From: "Bee ;-)" Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 20:02:36 +0100 Subject: bs Source: direct TITLE: Boredom Sucks VI - Last Orders AUTHOR: Bee Slayer RATING: PG-13 CATEGORY: S, H (kinda) R SUMMARY: Who'd have thought that anything else could go wrong? DISCLAIMER: If CC wants em back after this little series, he can have em! (As long as he doesn't blame me for the psychological scars) MY CRAP: Yeah, yeah, I did another one. The LAST one. Ever. No more. You can all breathe again, safe in the knowledge that I'll never spring one of these on ya again. Bwahahaa. I'd just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who's ever given me positive feedback over these (okay, so that's about 5 people) and a huge BOG OFF to everyone who's ever given me negative feedback. Hehe... Actually, I enjoy getting flames, it gives me the chance to be a bitch... Okay, can't delay the inevitable any longer, here goes... * * * * * "Great. This is just great." Scully turned to give her partner an evil look that Marilyn Mansun would be proud of. "This is so unbelievably typically Mulder, and shouldn't really surprise me, considering everything else that's gone wrong because of you in the last week or so." Scully stopped her tirade as she realised that Mulder seemed to be enjoying it. "Don't you have *anything* to say for yourself? Or are you just planning to sit there grinning psychotically for a few more hours?" Without even attempting to wipe the smirk off his face, Mulder defended himself, "first of all, this is not my fault, it's the rental company's fault. Secondly, I take offence to that comment. Thirdly," he waggled a suggestive eyebrow, "we could always make the most of the time we ha-" "It's not your fault?" Screeched Scully, looking as if she were about to go into orbit, "Excuse me, Mr 'I know this area like the back of my hand, so let's just take a shortcut along this empty road in the middle of the night' Do NOT try and tell me that this isn't your fault!!" Mulder exhaled loudly, debating whether to tell Scully to calm down. He - rather sensibly - decided not to. He didn't like the way that she appeared to be looking around for something to throw. "It isn't my fault the car broke down!" He defended, knowing that as excuses went, it was pretty weak. Scully, who had been staring out of the window and trying to ignore the urge to whack him across the nose (there was a lot of it to whack) with her temporarily useless cell phone, turned slowly to him, the expression on her face making him gulp. "Mulder," she said, trying to stay calm, "if you hadn't came up with the ever so bright idea of using a practically deserted road where even the cell phone companies don't want to install transmitters, it wouldn't *matter* that the car has broke down. But," He rolled his eyes, wondering how much longer this was going to last. "Because we're on this road, we're going to have to wait here and hope that someone comes past to help who *isn't* a serial killer, fetishist or Bj=F6rk fan." Mulder considered this for a while, trying to ignore the fact that Scully was breathing like she was- He stopped this thought before it could even form, knowing that it could get him into the kind of trouble he didn't particularly want to be in. Scully was pissed, and he didn't want to tempt fate. "Hey, Scully," he said tentatively. The Scully-glare which had presided on her face for a good ten minutes wavered slightly as she lifted an eyebrow and grunted. "Would this be a bad time to mention that I could really use a bathroom?" Scully grinned to herself as Mulder slammed the car door shut to go in search of a deserted bush or something. So far, the plan seemed to be working. She had to stop herself from laughing out loud as she pictured the look on Mulder's face as the car had rolled to a stop. The hardest part of the whole thing was making sure that he *did* take a shortcut, which she had pretty much taken for granted. He liked to make the pretence that he knew every back road in the US by somehow managing to get lost/stranded/laid (she had her fingers crossed) on every back road in the US. 'Fixing' the car had been a doddle. Mulder might like to think that only big, strong caveman know anything about cars, but Scully had grown up with two brothers. If it had taught her anything, it was how to play around with cars. It was just a matter of 'snip' So now she just had to wait until he got back from his toilet trip before getting the next part of the plan into motion. She gave an evil grin and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a full bottle of cheap booze. The door opened, and Mulder got back in, slamming the door again. "It is *freezing* out there!" he exclaimed, rubbing his arms. *Hope it's not *too* cold,* thought Scully, *wouldn't want anything to be damaged...* "I think I have something to warm you up." Mulder's mental cheerleaders - the product of waaay too many nights alone - perked up at this (as did something else...) and jumped around a bit. "Ah, Scully, never knew you cared," he drawled, not daring to hope that she meant what he... Ah. Alcohol. The cheerleaders gave a weak shake of their pom-poms, but he could tell their hearts weren't in it. He gave a mental shrug, alcohol might not quite be up there with sex, but for now he'd have to take what he was given. Twenty minutes later, there was an empty bottle and a very tipsy hoard of cheerleaders, not to mention a distinctly loosened-up Mulder and Scully. "So...Mulder, ever get the feeling we need to talk?" "Ever get the feeling the universe is conspiring against you?" *Constantly,* she thought. Delaying the inevitable was all well and good, but it wasn't particularly healthy. Contrary to popular belief, she *did* have a sex drive, and as long as she and Mulder remained in this ridiculous stand-off, it wasn't gonna be getting any. And in her current frame of mind - possibly a by-product of the cheap drink - that was a very, very bad thing. "I..." she mentally fumbled for the best way to start this, "I..." Luckily, Mulder was in a rare perceptive mood, and decided to jump in, "I think that was the most action the monuments of DC - including the assistant director - have seen in a long time." She rolled her eyes, "subtlety never was your strong point, was it?" "Nope. Anyway, since then, the passion seems to have died out slightly," he shot her a theatrical look of woe. "Mulder, that was only 3 days ago, and besides, we've been on a team-building seminar. People with the sex drive of dogs on heat would have trouble igniting passion with the knowledge that Bouncy-Butt was around the corner." He feigned hurt, "are you saying that I *don't* have the sex drive of a dog in heat?" Hmm, she hadn't thought of that. Maybe this relationship *would* have its advantages... "Anyway, are we actually going anywhere?" "I, uh...yes?" guessed Mulder, trying to avoid the death-glare being directed at him. "Do you take anything seriously? Here I am, cutting wires on fucking rental cars with my best nail clippers, storing bottles of dirt-cheap wine in glove compartments and sitting here in my best, most uncomfortable underwear - not to mention what is possibly the most revealing suit I own-" now *this* he had noticed, "-and you sit there and say 'I, uh, yes'? What the hell does that mean?" She blew a strand of hair out of her face angrily, slumping down in the car seat. "Why the hell did I even bother?" Her frustration was catching, even though Mulder really didn't have anything to be angry *about* (well, apart from maybe the fact that she had set him up). "Well, excuuse me, little miss perfect! And to think I was actually sitting here and *taking* the abuse you hurled at me when the car stopped, only to find out that it was your fault anyway? And just ignoring for now the fact that after the incident the other day you've pretty much ignored me, not even acknowledging the fact that it happened - " he broke off, "what the hell is that about, anyway? 6 fucking years together, and we finally kiss, only for you to completely ignore it? Well, excuse me if I don't jump to attention!" "I thought we were ignoring that," commented Scully dryly, not sure how she was keeping her voice steady, but glad that she was. "Well we were, bur we aren't any more! Deal with it!" "Grow up!" "You grow up!" He gave a sheepish grin, realising how stupid they were being. "Okay, okay, so we're better at forgetting that things happened than anyone else in the state!" She made a face, "I wouldn't say I forgot...not the kind of thing you forget, Mulder." He made an exasperated sound, he was going to get them to agree on something if it was the last thing he did, "okay, so we didn't forget about it, we just tried to pretend it didn't happen. Does that-" He didn't get a chance to finish, as Scully got sick of waiting for *him* to make the first move and leaned over to kiss him hard on the mouth, shifting her position so that she was practically sitting on top of him. In all of her fantasies, she had never imagined that she would want her and Mulder's first time together to be in the back - or front - seat of a car...But desperate times called for desperate measures, and she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to get Fox Stingy Mulder to book into a motel for no reason, and there was no way she was waiting until they get back home. So the car it was. "Mm, Mulder hang on a sec, I think I'm sitting in the hand brake," she managed to murmur in between kisses. "That isn't a handbrake, Scully." "I was hoping you'd say that." And the cheerleaders shook their pom-poms like never before... * * * * * Sorry for that last cheap joke...couldn't resist. You know the drill, flames, death threats, mail bombs, etc to bee_slayer@hotmail.com or bee.slayer@zoom.co.uk GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ------=_NextPart_000_023B_01BFDFA9.791130A0 Content-Type: text/plain; name="boredom sucks V.txt" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Disposition: attachment; filename="boredom sucks V.txt" TITLE: Boredom Sucks V - The Terror Returns AUTHOR: Bee Slayer *hides head in shame* RATING: PG CATEGORY: Humour? SPOILERS: Detour, DISCLAIMER: (To the tune of that song from Grease) Look at me, I am CC, lousy with reality. Um, yeah, okay, I'm not. I lied. I'm just me. Sorry. Mulder, Scully & Skinner aren't mine, Bouncy-Butt is. Anyone want her? SUMMARY: We re-join our intrepid duo just in time for Skinner's punishment... ARCHIVE: AUTHOR'S NOTES: I couldn't leave y'all hanging now, could I? Once again, I apologise :-) You love me really ;-) * * * * * X * * * * * "This is all your fault," muttered Scully threateningly, throwing in an evil glare for effect. "How, exactly, is this *my* fault? Last time I looked, it took two-" "Don't try and weasel out of this one, Mulder. You are to blame here, and you know it." Scully was - not surprisingly - in a bad mood, and Mulder was - also not surprisingly - taking the brunt of it. She was having none of his protests, because after all, it really *was* his fault that they were here. She carried on, "If you hadn't decided to run after me, thus causing us both to fall in, and then decided to kiss me, we wouldn't *be here*." Her voice was rising, and Mulder glared at her, he would rather that no one here knew about their little, uh, 'situation.' He especially didn't want them to find out right now, knowing his luck they would be made to talk it out in front of everyone. He could just hear it: "Is this something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" Things were surreal enough as it was. Plus, Scully had just used the word 'thus.' Things could only get weirder. "From where I was...um...swimming, you weren't exactly fighting me off." "That's not the point!" She objected a little too loudly. Several heads turned to look at them, most looking distinctly amused, a few looking angry. Mulder rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like you're all actually listening to her," Scully hissed at them, she really wasn't in the mood to deal with thirty-odd FBI agents hell-bent on 'teamwork'! She was even less keen on the alarmingly perky team-leader. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, folding her arms and trying to appear as if she was taking notice of the, um, slightly large blonde woman in front of them. To make them pay for their sins, Skinner - in his almighty wisdom - had decided to send the two agents to another team-building seminar to make up for the one they had missed all that time ago. Zippeddee doo dah. Strangely enough, no one had been convinced of Mulder's sudden haemorrhoidal problems, but at least he tried, you had to give him that. After ten minutes of the woman droning on about non-verbal communication, Scully got slightly sick of trying to initiate her own non-verbal communication by way of subtly giving her the finger, (it's very satisfying as long as you don't get caught) and turned to look at Mulder. He looked as fed-up as she felt, eyeing the ceiling tiles in disgust. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and whispered, " we'd never get a pencil up there." Scully stifled a giggle (and Scully *never* giggled - that alone showed how much this was all getting to her) and tried usuccessfully to glare at him at the mention of the incident that had got them into this trouble in the first place. They really *did* need to exercise some self-control, maybe Skinner was right about that. Things had certainly got a little out of hand recently. To say the least. She tried to focus on the woman speaking, and couldn't help notice that her hair bounced vigorously every time she emphasised a word, and she emphasised a *lot* of words. Scully couldn't quite work out how it happened, as she didn't seem to incorporate any extra movements, but this was how it went: "The *importance*" - bounce - "of *teamwork*" - bounce - "is *huge* when working in the *field*" - bounce...bounce - "and even when in the *office*," - bounce. And so on and so on. It was almost hypnotic, and Scully couldn't help wondering if it would be possible to set your watch by her. She wouldn't doubt it. She could feel Mulder looking at her, and turned her head to look at him. He had a slightly suicidal look on his face, and she noticed that he was eyeing the rather sharp letter opener on a nearby desk a little too eagerly. She briefly wondered if it was such a good idea to keep something that sharp there, within easy reach. She sighed, ignoring the disparaging look she received from the woman in front. If he was gonna kill himself, she wasn't gonna stop him. It would at least save her from having to do it. After all, this was *all* his fault, every bit of it. Not one thing that had happened could be blamed on her, no way. Especially not the time she kissed him in the office. Scully winced a little bit. Okay, so maybe she *did* play her part in the events of the past few days. But she never meant for it to escalate to this degree. It was never on the agenda for Skinner to find out about them before even *they* had found out about them. They didn't have an actual relationship, nothing much had actually happened between them, despite what everyone else thought. Scully herself wasn't sure what to think. She frowned, trying hard to block out the sounds of Bouncy-Butt prattling on about how the number of arrests made by agents who attended these particular seminars last year were far higher than those who didn't, conveniently leaving out the fact that it was usually only the 'good' agents (i.e. the irritating dick-heads) who voluntarily went to the stupid things. Everyone else shared the same opinion as Mulder, and avoided them if at all possible. And even when it wasn't. Anyway, Scully frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she still didn't know where she stood with Mulder right now. They hadn't mentioned yesterday's events, nor had they had the chance, as Skinner packed them off to pratt-central. To be perfectly honest, she wasn't sure if she wanted to mention it, it was a big step. *But,* she thought, *the whole of the bureau now thinks we're sleeping together, it would just be cruel to disappoint them...* She sighed again, ignoring the frustrated woman in front totally, who turned around and made a 'shush' motion. (She was lucky that Scully was ignoring her, as she usually had an extremely adverse reaction to this particular form of non-verbal communication) This was more complicated than it had ever been, and she didn't see it getting any better any time soon. Things were different between them, but neither of them were sure whether this for better or worse. She decided to stop thinking about it, and focussed instead on the mole on the neck of the woman in front. Mulder was one subject that she was *not* going to contemplate. Maybe. She had came very close to murdering him on the drive over. It had been a little tense, and very uncomfortable. It also hadn't been helped by Mulder's constant singing of anything vaguely water related. She was slowly building a mental wall around *that* (bounce) particular incident, Mulder's singing was as unpleasant as her own. At least when she sung, she didn't sing Celine Bloody Dion (the Titanic connection) or Barbie Girl (Aqua - some of his links were a tad tenuous, even *he* had to admit). She wasn't sure where his new habit of singing on long car journeys had originated, but she certainly didn't like it. The woman - Scully had blocked out her name, it was something double-barrelled, she preferred Bouncy-Butt anyway - had finished speaking, much to the relief of everyone who had been forced there, and was giving out sheets of paper. She heard Mulder groan from beside her, this was the 'fun' bit. The part where you got to build towers of furniture and other constructive things like that. She couldn't believe agents were sent to these things on the bureau's time, with the bureau's money. "God help us all," she murmured just loud enough for Mulder to hear her. He turned and offered a strained smile, enthusiasm was completely out of the question. Bouncy-Butt was too draining for anything more than that. She was exhausting to watch, all that raw perkiness. He shuddered at the thought, turning to face the desk to his left, complete with electric pencil sharpener and desk-tidy. An evil glint appeared in his eye, as he started to plot a fail-safe strategy for trapping Bouncy-Butt under a pile of office furniture. She started to speak again, and Scully subtly flung a rubber at her. "Let the games begin!" "Hey, Scully, ever wondered how to kill with simple office equipment?" * * * * * X * * * * * Anyone want more? Hehe RANT:::: You know something, it just dawned on me, I really enjoy writing these, regardless of whether anyone else enjoys reading them. Because you know what? I don't care anymore, I really don't. I am sick to death of reading the same criticisms for each one of these, from varied people, and I give up. It's impossible to please everyone, and luckily, (for me :-) the number of positive feedback is about equal to the negative. So if you're gonna send comments, don't you dare EVEN MENTION the word characterisation, realism, or anything else in that particular area. If you want realism, read the scripts, okay?? ::::RANT OVER Sorry Bee_slayer@hotmail.com ;-) ------=_NextPart_000_023B_01BFDFA9.791130A0 Content-Type: text/plain; name="boredom sucks IV.txt" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Disposition: attachment; filename="boredom sucks IV.txt" TITLE: Boredom Sucks 4 AUTHOR: Bee Slayer RATING: It's more than likely to stay at PG, maybe PG-13 SPOILERS: nun. Who needs spoilers? SUMMARY: Can it get any worse?? I think it can! DISCLAIMER: They aren't mine. Happy? ARCHIVE: Yeah. right. AUTHOR'S CRAP: It's baaack! And it's worse than ever. I'm not sure who I feel sorrier for, Mulder, Scully, Skinner or you guys. Or me, for writing it. Hmm... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "... I mean, it isn't as if I didn't expect this, I've seen it coming for years, but Jesus Christ, in the REFLECTING POOL??!!??!? Are you both INSANE??? What were you thinking?? And what the HELL are you grinning at???" Needless to say, Skinner was mad. Actually, no, he was steaming. Apocalyptic. Not happy at all. And the grinning comment was directed at Mulder, who had been trying to contain it since Skinner started his 'I should have seen it coming' speech. A fragment of song lyrics had floated into his mind, and he was powerless to stop it: 'Don't blame it on the sunshine, don't blame it on the moonlight, don't blame it the good times, blame it on the boredom.' It really wasn't funny. Not funny at all, not in the slightest, but when you're in the process of being screamed at by your boss, and you're dripping wet, standing in his office with your partner like a couple of naughty school kids, anything is funny. Even Not to mention that the way the light was reflecting off his head every time he moved was very distracting. As was the aforementioned very wet partner. She didn't look like she was about to burst into laughter, she just looked... bored, to be perfectly honest. Like she would really rather be anywhere else than there. Mulder normally got the same look when he was being chewed out for one reason or another. The look that he would have been wearing if those song lyrics hadn't popped into his head. Because along with that, there was also the image of him explaining to Skinner that this had all happened simply *because* they were bored. Something told him that it wouldn't go down too well. Skinner's rampage could probably already be heard down in the basement for crying out loud, if Mulder said anything wrong, they might be able to hear him in LA. "Do you find this funny, agent Mulder??!" Oops, he was off again. Mulder started paying attention again. "Because I don't find it the slightest bit amusing. I find it sickening, actually. The fact that after the incident in your office the other day you still can't find enough self control to - to - to control yourselves! How the hell do you expect me to explain this??" Mulder glanced at Scully, Scully glanced at Mulder. He bit his lip, looking away quickly. He had to, otherwise they would both be rolling on the floor in hysterics, and that would *really* not be a good thing. Time for a change of tactic. "Sir, can we please go and change into some dry clothes? I don't know about agent Scully, but in my mind there is something about wearing wet clothes that isn't very pleasant." The vein in Skinner's neck started doing handstands. That had been a BAD idea. "Pleasant? You want unpleasant, Mulder? UNPLEASANT is how it is going to be for me when I have to explain this mess! UNPLEASANT is the lecture that I am bound to get from the Director about controlling the agents under me! UNPLEASANT, Agent Mulder, is the headlines that are bound to appear in *at least* one local tabloid newspaper." Mulder could see it now: "FBI AGENTS HOT AND WET AT LOCAL MONUMENT." This served no purpose but to make him want to laugh again. He had to think bad thoughts. No, not that kind of bad. He now had to fish his mind out of the gutter and get away from all thoughts of the dripping wet Scully standing next to him. *Sad thoughts, Mulder, sad thoughts. What happened to all that guilt?* *Damn,* he thought, now was a very bad time for him to lose his self-pitying talents. Skinner let out a long breath, "just go, alright? Go and get changed before I get really angry. And come back here when you're done, I'm not finished with you yet." As the agents splodged out of the room, Mulder murmured quietly to Scully, but deliberately loud enough for Skinner to be able to hear, "Let's not invite him the next time we go skinny-dipping, huh?" He heard them both burst into hysterics as the door shut behind them. Skinner sat down. Hard. "Those two are going to be the death of me," me muttered, shaking his head, "they just never learn." So now, he just had to wait until they came back in with dry clothes before he could give them his 'punishment.' Of course, he had to think of one first... Hmmm...Now what could he make them do? He wasn't going to do anything that might jeopardise their careers, no matter how much they might deserve it, because luckily for them, he liked Scully. To tell the truth, he didn't mind Mulder either, although he doubted he would ever admit it to his face. He considered this for a moment. Sweeping the floors? Nah, they might sue. Mulder would get a great kick out of being on the other side of a lawsuit. Stealing Mulder's beloved I Want to Believe poster? He didn't want to die just yet, thank you very much. Telling the whole of the FBI and subjecting them to Mr and Mrs Spooky jokes for all eternity? By this time tomorrow the whole of the FBI would already know, judging from the crowd that had gathered at the, uh, 'crime scene.' Anyway, he wouldn't want to get a reputation for spreading rumours. He could always find a way to tell the three weirdos that Mulder seemed to hang out with, but he suspected that they had the area under surveillance already. So what could he do? They already had enough crap on file to get them fired by anyone else, there was no point in adding to it by making this official in any way. Then an idea came to him. It was perfect, he didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before! Now all he had to do was sit back, and wait. What Skinner hadn't figured, was that sitting back and waiting is not all it's cracked up to be. After ten minutes or so, it gets kind of monotonous, and you have to try and think of something else to do, rather than just sitting, waiting. Like what? He went over various options in his head... he had paperwork to do, but he wasn't that bored yet. In fact, the monthly expense reports that needed filling out were only likely to irk him even further. He then remembered something. He kept something special in his desk drawer especially for this kind of situation. He took it out and marvelled at it for a few seconds, turning it around in his hands, fascinated by the way the light played on it. Eventually he set it on the desktop. There was really no reason to keep it in the drawer, it was merely a standard 'executive toy,' five ball bearings that moved backwards and forwards each time one ball hit another. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. Over and over and over, until either it ran out of steam, or it annoyed someone so much that they stopped it. It didn't annoy Skinner, he found it very relaxing. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. Over and over and over. He sighed, leaning back in his chair to secure a better view. It wasn't that he was pathetic, he told himself, it was just that he had nothing else to do. He had a meeting later, and if he hadn't been waiting for his two 'favourite' agents, he would have gone out to get something to eat. But no, he was stuck in the office waiting for the delinquents. And he was starting to get bored of the toy. After all, it didn't really *do* much, it just went backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. Over and over and over. He gave it another push, it was starting to slow down. He picked it up again, pushing it harder. He wanted to see if he could get it to go over the top. It took him a few minutes, but he finally managed it. The balls flew over the top, causing him to drop it. "Yes," he exclaimed quietly, bending down to pick it up. He couldn't see it, so he got down on his hands and knees, peering under the desk. "There you are," he muttered, stretching an arm under to try to reach it. "Damn," it was just out of his reach, and he realised that he would have to lie down on the floor to get to it. He spread himself out, his butt sticking out into the air. It didn't occur to him at that point that he could just go around the desk, and be able to reach the toy much easier. Just as his fingers closed around it, the door opened, and Kimberly was just in time to hear the Assistant Director exclaim loudly, "Finally!" She grinned at seeing the Assistant Director behaving so weirdly, "whoops, sorry, I'll come back later when you're finished with your, um, desk." She closed the door behind her, and Skinner heard yet another person burst into hysterics as he sat up, clutching his toy. No doubt that by the time he left work tonight it would be all around the bureau that he was indulging in weird sexual acts with a desk, a carpet and a load of silver balls. He groaned, sitting back at his desk and putting his head in his hands. Could his day really get any worse? Kimberly knocked again, opening the door tentatively, "sir, Mulder and Scully are here to see you." Yes, it could. * * * * * X * * * * * That was *so* unfunny. I am so very, very sorry for making you read it. bee_slayer@hotmail.com if you wanna flame me for it, I wouldn't blame you at all. But if you even *mention* the word characterisation, I will set my little consortium on to you, and Spam your inboxes forever and ever and ever. So there. See, this is what you get for demanding a sequel. You have no one to blame but yourself. PPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLBBBBBBBBBBB!!!!! More?