From: AIIThingsX1013@cs.com Date: Sat, 1 Sep 2001 19:20:42 EDT Subject: "Another Kind of Challenge by Kasey Miller" Source: direct Title: Another Kind of Challenge Author: Kasey Miller Email: aiithingsx1013@cs.com Category: VRH Keywords: MSR Rating: PG-13 for language and bizarre situations Spoilers: None Summary: More challenge fiction! Disclaimer: I did it! They're mine! I won the auction on eBay and they should be arriving via UPS any day now... Author's Notes: At the end, please ***************************************** MONDAY MORNING...AGAIN SKINNER'S OFFICE "So Agent Mulder, are you prepared to tell me exactly what happened on this last case?" Mulder, seated in his usual "reaming" chair, looked over at his partner for support. She nodded at him imperceptibly, and he took a deep breath and began his story. "Sir, Agent Scully and I were in no way responsible or directly involved in the rather unfortunate incident that occurred in our presence. It started off as a simple evening meal after we closed the case. We decided to try the Golden Corral buffet, and in the middle of our meal, an exceptionally large, toothless man ran through the dining room screaming something about there being no more fried sweet potatoes. Now I like sweet potatoes as much as the next guy, but I didn't see the need for any alarm. It was obvious, however, that the rest of the patrons did not share my sentiment, as they proceeded to engage in various forms of protest that bordered on violence." Scully cleared her throat and continued with the story. "Using the Bureau-sanctioned crowd control techniques, we attempted to calm the customers with the aid of the restaurant manager. Regrettably, though, the restaurant manager had a slightly differing opinion on how to calm his customers. While we were waiting for local backup to arrive, the manager and several members of the kitchen staff brought out boxes of institutional-sized saran wrap and started to restrain the offending customers to their chairs. Thankfully, backup arrived as the crowd began to rebel against the questionable tactics displayed by the manager." The two agents sat back in their chairs and seemed pleased that their story-telling was over. Skinner, on the other hand, looked less than pleased. "Agent Mulder, that still does not explain the hotel incident." Mulder's knee began jiggling nervously. "Well, Sir, when we got back to the hotel after filling out the police reports, our building was engulfed in flames. Arson, I believe they determined later. The only other hotel in town had one room left, and I let Agent Scully take it. And may I say, Sir," he leaned toward Skinner, "it *is* fun to stay at the YMCA." Skinner turned around and looked out his windows. Scully took the opportunity to thwack Mulder on the arm and gave him a stern look. Finally Skinner went to his desk and picked up a file. "Here's your new case. Several murders have been occurring at an abandoned amusement park in New Hampshire. Locals believe it is drug related, but they are having difficulty finding any leads and asked for our help. It's a run-of-the-mill murder case, not an X-File, but Violent Crimes is so overloaded since Stuart retired and Guyton went on maternity leave. I would consider it a professional favor if you two would just go in and help clean this case up. Here's the file. Daylight's burning, Agents." ON THE PLANE Mulder was doing his usual airline routine of listening to CDs and reading Omni. Scully, having grown bored with her book, began flipping through his CDs. Pearl Jam, John Coltrane, Wynton Marsalis, Elton John, The Boss, The Stones, Leonard Nimoy, Barenaked Ladies, Bi...wait a minute. Leonard Nimoy? She pulled the liner notes out of the sleeve and read. It was true, Mulder had a CD of Leonard Nimoy covering Beck's "Where it's at." She nudged him with her elbow and held up the disc in question. He took his headphones off and opened the player. "You wanna listen to it, Scully?" "No, I want to know where you got it and why you got it." "It's a bootleg and I bought it off eBay. I got it because, well, it sounded interesting. I mean, how truly bizarre can you get?" She chuckled at the thought of Mulder finding something in the universe that was truly bizarre. "Mulder, stop listening to your music and entertain me. Let's talk about something. Anything. You pick." She sighed and nestled back into the seat, awaiting Mulder's topic. "OK, Scully. What was the worst job you ever had, other than this one?" "This definitely isn't the worst job. Um, I would have to say that my worst job would have been when I waitressed in undergrad. I hated waiting on people, I hated dealing with food, and I hated having to be nice to rude people. It paid the bills, but I didn't like it at all. What about you, Mulder?" He hemmed and hawed until she flicked his knuckle. "Come on. Spill it." "Do you promise not to think any less of me?" She snorted. "It can't be good if you have to preface it with that statement. OK, no, I won't think any less of you." He closed his eyes as his memories took him back in time. "It was the summer after my freshman year at Oxford and I was living with my mom in Chilmark. I was hanging out with one of my friends from high school who had 'discovered' himself during the school year and invited me to go to this club up in Boston. I agreed. When we got there, I found out it was a gay strip club who happened to be hiring dancers. On a whim and a dare, I applied and got hired." Scully turned to him with an incredulous look on her face. "You're kidding." "No, I'm not. I was young and even though I didn't have huge bulging muscles, I was a popular dancer. My outfit was simple: penny loafers, khaki pants, a white collared shirt with an Oxford sweatshirt over it and my glasses. I was the 'Academic' or something inane like that. It was the worst job because I hated being looked at like a hunk of meat. When I danced, I didn't think of anything, I just cleared my mind and got through the song. It paid well, no doubt about it, but it wasn't who I was. That was my last summer back home." Scully sat quietly as he finished his story. "Mulder, I can't believe you actually did something like that. I mean, I'm not upset or think less of you or anything. In fact, I admire you for doing it and having the experience. It just seems very out of character for you." He smiled and put his hand on hers. "It was. It is. I would never do something like that again. I met a lot of funny people, though. There was one guy who had a birthmark on his thigh in the shape of Ed Asner from 'The Mary Tyler Moore Show.' He got a lot of teasing for that. There's nothing quite like spending time with a bunch of gay guys, though. Especially in the late 70's." She wrapped her fingers around his hand and squeezed. "Well, I think it sounds like a neat experience. I wish I had been that carefree. Hell, I still wish I was now." "It's OK, Scully. You're just not a spontaneous person. That doesn't mean that you're missing out on anything. Oh, buckle your seatbelt, we're coming in for a landing!" AT THE MURDER SITE Mulder and Scully waded through the tall grass behind the local sheriff as he showed them around the abandoned amusement park, wackily based on the Care Bears. Mulder stumbled over an old Moxie glass bottle and smiled in remembrance. "Hey Scully, ever had one of those?" He pointed toward the Moxie bottle. "No, I haven't." "Remind me to buy you one later." The sheriff was explaining how they found all the bodies and who they had interrogated. Scully's attention was drawn toward a rather new looking machine standing next to a game booth. It was one of those prize vaults, where the player had to maneuver a claw in order to pick up and deposit a prize in the bin. Scully put her hand out expectantly towards Mulder, and he fished around in his pockets for some change. "Here, mooch." She inserted them in the machine and dug around until she got a hold of something. When it dropped in the bin, she reached her hand in and pulled out a severed human foot, which she dangled in front of her by the big toe. "Let's get this to the ME and get it checked out. We should see if we can find the maker or the distributor of this machine and talk to them. C'mon, Mulder. Let's get out of here." AT THE POLICE STATION The local police force was able to track down the owner of the business that rented out the prize machine where Scully won the severed foot, and was presently seated in an interrogation room at the precinct awaiting questioning from Mulder and Scully. After several long minutes, Mulder entered the room. "I'm sorry, Mr. Monroe, for the wait. My partner became unexpectedly ill and is taking some time to recover." Mr. Monroe looked up at Mulder and shouted. "FUCK!" Mulder jumped back and stared. "Excuse me?" "FUCK! FUCK! SHITSHITSHIT! WHOOP WHOOP!" Mr. Monroe continued yelling and wringing his hands. Finally he was able to motion for Mulder to bring him a pen and paper, on which he wrote: I HAVE TOURETTE'S Sighing, Mulder leaned back in his chair and wiped his face with his hand. It was going to be a long afternoon. THAT EVENING IN THE HOTEL "I can't tell you how sorry I am, Scully. I thought you might like it. I loved it when I was a kid!" Mulder was following Scully between their two rooms as she ranted and raved. "Mulder, that's no excuse. You knew that it tasted like shit, but you got me one anyway. Thanks for making my afternoon one to remember." "It's just a soft drink, Scully. It's Moxie, for God's sake. It's suppose to calm your tummy down." She humphed and walked away from him, closing the adjoining door behind her and leaving him in his own room. She changed out of her work clothes into something more comfortable: jeans and a midriff t- shirt. She went over and knocked on the door to Mulder's room and yelled at him. "I'M READY! LET'S GO! I'M HUNGRY!" He opened the door and smiled. She looked like she was from that whistling belly-button commercial with her midriff shirt and hip hugging jeans. He especially liked how her tattoo peeked out above her waistband in the back. But there was no time for naughty Scullythoughts. It was dinner time. AT THE STORE They had decided to stop at the neighborhood grocery store after supper to pick up some food for breakfast the next day. Mulder was calmly pushing a shopping cart down the aisles while Scully read every label and mentally did the math to make sure they were getting the best deal possible. "God, Scully, I feel incredibly domestic. I'm half- expecting you to whip out your coupons and buy ground beef in bulk." That comment bought him a bag of marshmallows to the head. "Owww, Scully. You wound me." "Mulder, you're such a pussy. Be thankful we weren't in the canned food aisle. Oh my god. Look at this." She pulled a container down from the shelf and held it out to Mulder. He grinned. "It's oleo, Scully. Haven't you ever seen it before?" She peeled her lips back in disgust. "No, I can't say that I have. I mean, I know what it is, but I've never had the distinct pleasure of seeing it on a supermarket shelf." "It's used a lot in old-school New England cooking. You know, where most people use Crisco, people up here use oleo. One of the best 'local flavor' dishes is fried squirrel and creamed oleo." Scully's face turned pale and she put the container of oleo back on the shelf and coughed weakly. Mulder laughed at her reaction. "I'm kidding, Scully. I'm only kidding. Relax." She straightened up and pushed the cart away from him. "Come on, *honey*, let's finish the shopping." BACK AT THE HOTEL It had been several hours since Mulder had heard any noise coming from Scully's room. He gently opened the adjoining door and peeked in. All he could see were her tiny feet coming from behind the bed. Panic set in as he dashed over to the bed and found her lying face down on the floor. "Scully, wake up. Are you OK? What happened?" He shook her shoulders and she moaned and rolled over. "Whoa, horsie. You're going too fast, Starlight. Slow down." She looked up at Mulder with glazed-over eyes. "Hey there, cowboy. You here to help me rein this beast in? I'd like to rein *you* in, cutie." She let her hand travel down his chest and settle on his... "Hey! What in the hell, Scully?" He pulled her up so she was sitting on the bed. "Scully? Who's Scully? I'm, I'm, I'm Dana. That's my name, don't wear it out!" She giggled. Mulder searched her room for signs of foul play and found an unmarked bottle of medicine on the nightstand. He peered into the bottle and saw only one small orange pill at the bottom. "Scully! What was this? What did you take?" "It's Dana, cowboy." "OK, *Dana*, what was in this bottle?" She pouted and started rubbing her belly. "My tummy hurt and my throat was burning so I took some of the nummy orange pills in there to make it go away." Mulder sniffed the remaining pill and licked it. He groaned. "Oh, Dana, this wasn't antacid. I think this is children's Motrin or something like that. How many did you take?" She looked up at him with a pout and puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it. I took them all. My tummy hurt something awful fierce." Christ, she was loaded on children's aspirin. It was like smoking oregano or something foolish like that. He leaned over her and picked up the phone to call the Poison Control Center. AT THE HOSPITAL, LATE THAT NIGHT Mulder was in the lounge of the emergency room waiting for word from the doctor about Scully. Finally, the double doors pushed open and a young man stepped through and extended his hand. "Agent Mulder, I'm Dr. Jingleheimer-Schimdt. Your partner is doing fine. We pumped her stomach and set her up on some fluids. She should be okay to go home in the morning." "Can I see her?" "Certainly. They'll taking her up to her room as we speak. I just want to keep her for observation tonight. Follow me, I'll show you to her room." IN SCULLY'S HOSPITAL ROOM Mulder pulled a chair over to her bedside and took her hand. They had both been in this familiar situation over the years, but never over something as stupid as this. He could forgive her mistake, but everytime he saw her in a hospital bed, it shaved just a little more off his life. "Hey Scully, you awake?" She stirred and rolled her head to the side, still asleep. "That's ok, partner, get some rest. I'll be here." Mulder fell asleep at her side with "I Wanna Be a Cowboy" running through his mind. **************************************** Author's notes: Another grand challenge from Aimee, my warped girlfriend. Here's the elements: 1. saran wrap 2. an excerpt from "YMCA" spoken, not sung, by either Mulder or Scully in an actual work-related conversation with Skinner 3. someone with OCD (I amended this to Tourette's, which is a form of OCD -- no offense intended) 4. Moxie (shit in a bottle, in my opinion) 5. the whistling belly-button commercial "I'm Coming Out" for Levi's 6. an abandoned amusement park whose theme was The Care Bears 7. creamed oleo (private joke -- sorry) 8. a bag of marshmallows used as a weapon (either in the bag or separately) 9. someone wins a severed foot in one of those claw machines 10. a bootleg copy of Leonard Nimoy singing "Where It's At" by Beck 11. widespread panic at the Golden Corral when they announce that there are no more fried sweet potatoes 12. Scully on a drug trip induced by an accidental overdose of children's chewable Motrin and explain how she overdosed 13. someone smoking oregano 14. Scully discovers the truth about one of Mulder's old jobs...he was a stripper at a gay club 15. a birthmark in the shape of Ed Asner ("Doesn't that look like that ghost we saw a few years back?") A little newsflash : I just read online that David Duchovny was voted one of the top ten men that lesbians would go straight for (voted upon by lesbians on PlanetOut.com). I would have to agree, but then there's always Gillian Anderson who's woman enough to bring you back. Oy vey. Recognition and thanks to Madeleine Partous, Char Chaffin, Susan Frankovitch, Shannon Kizzia, and Donnilee for their fantastic writing and inspiration. Much love to Aimee for her love, patience, and support.