From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Sun, 5 Dec 1999 16:03:22 -0600
Subject: Delight of Gods by Ned 'TG' Life
Source: direct

Reply To: sevencities@aol.com


Delight of Gods by Ned Life. (sevencities@aol.com)
Category: X-File
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Archive: Wherever
Feedback: Whatever
Disclaimer:  Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter's 1013 Productions
and Rupert Murdoch's 20th Century Film Corp. 
Summary: Mulder has some chocolates. 

 Delight of Gods

Wednesday morning. Brenda walked into the X-Files office and, abruptly,
she was enveloped in it.  The aroma filled her nostrils.  No, aroma didn't
begin to convey the experience.  Sensation. It was a sensation. A soft
caress on her check, a brief gentle e mbrace.  Brenda then saw the source
of the sensation.  A two-pound box of Chairden's Chocolates on Mulder's
desk.  The box was open with the lid turned upside down on the desk and
the body of the box, which contained the chocolates, propped in the lid as
if it were on display.  Brenda's eyes were riveted to the box.  The
luscious chocolates, wrapped in the stiff cellophane that crinkled so
seductively as they were unwrapped, filled her senses.  Of all the
chocolates ever made, Chairden's were the chocolat es that had stolen her
soul.  Other chocolatiers may claim that their chocolates were the finest
in the world, but Chairden's were truly a "mouthful of pleasure, delight
of gods."  Brenda had even toured the small factory where the Chairden's
Chocolates were made.  The proprietor of Charden's was dictatorial in her
demands in creating the chocolates.  She insisted that the storage area of
the raw materials be kept at a strict 68.5F.  The black, or dark,
chocolate contained no less than 70% of cocoa.  Most people found the dark
chocolate a little on the bitter side, but to Brenda it was the definitive
test of a person's claim to be a true chocoholic.  And she was a
chocoholic.  She firmly believed the Aztec Indians' legend that cocoa
seeds had been brought from Paradise.  She now anticipated the sacred
ritual of experiencing this delight.  The slow removal of the wrapper, the
slight, momentary pleasure of the chocolate pressed against her mouth
before she surrendered to its per suasive powers and parted her lips to
it. She then would hold it between her teeth and, with a slight
application of pressure, break it in half, savoring the sugar-rush
produced by the cream-filling against her tongue, oblivious to the
inevitable drop of cream that would adhere to her lower lip.  This ritual
had to be performed in distinct, separate phases.  Each phase must be
strictly adhered to.  You didn't simply pop it into your mouth.  That
would be a sacrilege.  In the n ext phase, the other half would then be
held against the lips and the tongue would slip out and press into the
cream-filled chocolate shell, probing it and scooping out the filling in
an action of the seduced disinterring the seducer.  The last phase woul d
then be the empty, spent shell being placed into the mouth for final
consumption of the consummation.  Brenda felt the start of an almost
orgasmic shutter going through her body when she pulled herself up short. 
She was on a diet.  This was the first t ime in her life that she had ever
seriously dieted.  She had always been lithe and thin. But, having reached
her mid-twenties, she had been stunned to find that her metabolic rate had
slowed to the point that even a glass of water consumed would add five
pounds to her weight.  Thus, Chairden's Chocolates were now a no-no in her
desperate battle of the bulge.  But what were those chocolates doing on
Mulder's desk?  It was common knowledge that Mulder's snack food of choice
was sunflower seeds.  Was this a welcome present from Mulder?  A few days
of filing hardly seemed to warrant this.  Taking time to straighten up
some paperwork while Dana Scully was on vacation, Mulder had requested
that Brenda be assigned to him from the ste no pool to help get things in
order.  She had only worked with Mulder once before and had been
uncomfortable the entire time. Her short association with him had
convinced her that his nickname "Spooky" had been well earned.  Could he
have overheard the co mments that she had made to her coworkers,
reinforcing his reputation for being odd?  He most certainly had heard
about her laments of having to give up Chairden's Chocolates.  She had
been very vocal about it and her laments were now an office joke that no
doubt had reached even the dark recesses of the X-Files basement.  That
bastard.  Vindictive, freaking weirdo.  And then the sensation began
again.  Her eyes took on a luminous glow.  Her olfactory senses were being
caresse d and then, on an auditory level, she heard them calling her name.
"Brenda."  A shutter went through her.  "Brenda?"  Brenda turned to face
Mulder standing in the doorway, sporting a subtle smirk on his face. "Good
morning, Brenda.  Excuse me for being o ut when you arrived," said Mulder,
walking past her to his desk.  "I needed to get a few copies made." 
Mulder sat in his chair and then innocently said, "Oh, help yourself to
some chocolates."  Having said that, Mulder himself took a piece of
chocolate o ut of the box, quickly unwrapped it and popped it into his
mouth.  The spell was now broken.  Neanderthal, Brenda thought.  The gods
of chocolate will hold you accountable one day.  Brenda worked until
lunchtime sorting papers and arranging files.  The lure of the chocolate
was kept at bay by her indignation at Mulder's childish game. At noon,
Mulder announced that they should break for lunch and that he might be a
bit late returnin g.  Brenda said that she would go in a few minutes after
she found a good stopping place.  After he walked out, Brenda was engulfed
in an embrace that made her moan with pleasure.  One piece couldn't hurt
that much.  It was lunchtime.  She would just hav e dessert first.  The
seduction was complete.  She quickly put down the files she had been
holding and rushed like an impatient lover to the box of chocolates which
was waiting expectantly for her.  Rushing the ritual of unwrapping the
chocolate piece, sh e closed her eyes to more fully experience the
penetration of her lips by the chocolate.  She felt and heard the
physically satisfying crack of the chocolate shell between her teeth.
"Forgot my cell phone."  Brenda quickly swallowed and ducked her hand
behind her.  Mulder crossed the office to his desk and opened the top
drawer.  Brenda turned to look at him with nonchalant eyes.  Mulder
withdrew his cell phone from the drawer and, with his other hand, pulled a
tissue from th e box on his desk.  Offering it to her, he said, "You need
to wipe your lip."  Saturday morning.  Brenda drove in reflective silence
to her grandmother's house.  Grandmother had been ninety-four and in
remarkably good health.  With the help of meals-on-wheels, a visiting
nurse and caring neighbors and relatives, Grandmother had been able to
stay in her own home until the end.  Going peacefully in her sleep,
Grandmother had left the family with the comfort of knowing that she
hadn't suffered.  But it was still sad when God called one of his angels
home.  Brenda was meeting her parent s and two sisters at Grandmother's to
dispose of the estate.  Her mother had decided to sell grandmother's house
and furniture and split the proceeds and any monetary holdings equally
among Brenda and her sisters.  Before the auction of house and property ,
the family was going to decide which personal effects they wanted to keep. 
Brenda was glad that her family was the kind who could deal with something
like this amicably, unlike some families that literally fell apart over
the division of an estate.  Having arrived at the house, Brenda found her
two sisters, both married, dividing up the dishes and cookware.  Having no
interest in either the dishes or cookware, and since it had been
understood by everyone that the photo albu ms were to be kept by Brenda's
mother, Brenda casually looked through a box of odds and ends that her
father had brought down from the attic.  "That's a collection of presents
that your Aunt Audry gave to grandmother," Brenda's mother told her. 
Technica lly, Audry wasn't Brenda's aunt, but rather a first cousin once
removed.  She was the proverbial black sheep.  Put a rule in front of her
and she would break it.  Make a dare and she would take it.  Aunt Audry
had been an adventurer.  She had been to all four corners of the world and
had climbed every mountain.  Sampled every cuisine, experienced every
culture.  Aunt Audry's last adventure had been a relatively placid plane
trip to the Florida Keys.  Brenda never believed that the plane had
gone down.  No doubt Aunt Audry had found a new dimension to explore in
the Bermuda Triangle.  Grandmother had always had a soft spot for the
little rebel and graciously thanked Audry for each gift offered.  Then,
when Audry had left, gran dmother would discretely store the inevitably
odd and unusual gift away.  "Well, this one is interesting," said Brenda,
holding up a small clay urn.  Coral, the elder of the sisters, walked in
at that moment and took the urn from Brenda. Turning it over several times
she then offered, in an authoritative voice, that the markings on the urn
suggested that it was an artifact of ancient Babylon.  "Probably, it was
used in conjunction with the Asask Marsuti. That was a series of twelve
formulae used against fevers and sickness.  The evil influence would be
transferred to the urn and then the formulae were recited over it.
Presumably, putting the lid on the urn would then trap the evil spirits,
so I wouldn't take the lid off.  You would release the dreaded plague
throughout this whole house."  Coral then handed the urn back to Brenda
and returned to the kitchen.  Yelling into the kitchen, Brenda asked,
"Aren't there laws against taking artifacts away from the country they
were f ound in?" Coral laughed and asked rhetorically, "So when did a law
ever stop Aunt Audry?"  Coral did have a point but Brenda was still a
little miffed over her sister's authoritative attitude.  Two classes in
archeology at the continuing education classe s at the local high school
and she was an expert.  Unable to fight the urge to one-up her sister,
Brenda said " I work with someone at the FBI who knows about spells and
supernatural incantations.  I'll take this to him and see what he thinks." 
Taking on ly the urn, Brenda returned home later that day.  Brenda then
ignored her sister's warning and lifted the lid from the urn.  Inscribed
inside the lid was "Handmade by Audry Assir."  Honestly.  So much for
ancient artifacts.  In a way, Brenda was pleased at her find.  Big
sister wasn't as smart as she thought.  Brenda wasn't proud of her petty
feelings toward her sister though and decided not to tell her about the
inscription.  Let Sis continue to be the ancient artifacts exper t.  No
need to ask Mulder to look into the origins of the urn now.  Then a
sinister thought crossed her mind.  If she did some research and laid it
on heavy about her Aunt Audry, she might be able to persuade Mulder to
waste his precious ghostbuster time tracking down the nonexistent ancient
origins of the urn.  She would simply take the lid off before giving it to
Mulder and it would be payback time for the "chocolate seduction."  Maybe
Mulder would even come down with the plague. 

Monday afternoon.  Brenda had done her research well. She had intrigued
Mulder with stories of her Aunt Audry's exploits.  Helping herself to a
tissue from the box on Mulder's desk, Brenda made the request that Mulder
check into the origins of the urn.  "  If what your sister said about the
urn is accurate and if this urn did at one time have a lid, your cold
might be a result of exposure to the urn. " said Mulder.  "Although its
surprising that the other members of your family haven't also become ill
afte r being exposed to the urn."  Brenda sidestepped that comment by
telling Mulder that she needed to get back to the steno pool.  "I will let
you know what I find out," said Mulder.  "Your sister was right about the
Asask Marsut, but the sickness or evil in fluence was usually transferred
to a wax figure instead of an urn.  The Ti'i tablets, of which there were
nine, gave recipes against headaches.  And then the Labartu incantations
repeated over little children were supposed to  drive away ogres and
witches.  There were elaborate rituals associated with these formula.  It
was also believed that there was white and black magic.  The Kashshapi or
unauthorized practitioners used black magic against mankind.  So the Code
of Hammuabi , adopted in 2000 BC, was used against anyone using black
magic to harm another.  The code was an ordeal by water and, if the
accused drowned, they were deemed guilty of intent to harm another." 
Brenda felt her eyes glaze over.  Get a life, she thought.  With any luck,
the urn would cause Mulder to get laryngitis.  Wouldn't it be a hoot if
Aunt Audry had used her urn to cure someone and now all those "evil
influences" were being released in Mulder's office?  Sweet revenge. 
"That's very interesting, Mr. Mulder," Brenda said as she steadily backed
toward the door.  "I appreciate your looking into this for me."  Brenda
timed her words so that at the word "me" she was through the door and
gone.  Setting the urn on his desk, Mulder returned to his paperwork. 
Only intending to stay a few more hours, Mulder knew he would probably be
there all night.  Scully was still out on vacation and, other than his
occasional dinner with her, Mulder's social life was nil.  Mulder hadn't
worked for long before he noticed the scratchy throat.  His constant
snacking on sunflower seeds did nothing to ease the irritation.  In fact,
they only made the pain worse.  Using the internet, Mulder let the
research he was conducting on t he urn keep his mind off his throat.  And
he bravely ignored the telltale signs of a coming headache.  He worked for
another hour until the headache, which had turned into a real thumper,
made concentrating impossible.  Rummaging through his desk, he fina lly
turned up two fuzzy aspirin.  He sat for a moment to see if the pain of
the headache would win out over his revulsion of the medicine.  Finally,
he got up, walked out into the hallway to the water fountain and rinsed
the pills off.  He then closed his eyes, popped the pills into his mouth
and washed them down quickly. Returning to his computer, he tried to
resume his research.  The sudden chills and the failure of the dust-bunny
aspirin to quell his headache caused Mulder to abandon his task and lower
his head to the desk.  Wrapping his arms around himself, he slowly rocked
in a futile attempt to generate some warmth.  Mulder finally got up and
made his way painfully over to the coffeepot that resided on the small
table by the door.  Forcing himself to go down the hallway to the water
fountain once more, Mulder filled the pot.  Back in the office, he plugged
in the pot and rummaged through the small collection of coffees and teas
that Scully kept on hand.  He selected a honey and lemon flavored tea and
poured the hot water from the coffeepot over the tea bag that he had
placed into a cup.  He then returned to his desk and slowly sipped his
drink.  The tea had a more medicinal effect than the aspirin had. 
Somewhat soothe d by the tea, Mulder again laid his head on his desk. 
Mulder dozed off and on for several hours, occasionally waking abruptly as
the chills shook his body.  Later, too disoriented by the raging fever
which had come to join the headache and replace the chills, he was
unable to summon any aid or even fix himself another cup of tea.  He
continued to sleep fitfully throughout the night.  Tuesday morning.  A few
minutes before nine, Mulder finally found the energy to call for a cab and
then dragged himself to the FBI building entrance.  No way could he drive
himself home.  While waiting for the cab, Mulder saw Brenda coming up the
steps.  "Mr. Mulder Are you alright?"  Mulder managed a weak smile.  "I'm
afraid your urn released its evil spirits on me. I've got one hell of a
case of the flu."  Wide-eyed, Brenda stuttered, "I'm so sorry, Mr.
Mulder."  Mulder laughed, "I was only kidding. I' m not holding you
responsible for my cold.  I may not be back for a few days, so if you
would like your urn back, it's sitting on my desk."  Just then Mulder's
cab pulled up. Brenda stared after Mulder as he entered the cab.  Hurrying
down to the basement , Brenda picked up the urn and retrieved the lid from
her purse.  No need to tempt fate, she thought.  Poor Mulder.  Brenda was
torn between a feeling of triumphal vindictiveness and a feeling of guilt
over Mulder's illness.   Maybe he would be over his flu by the weekend
and she could spend her planned weekend at the lake guilt-free.  Mulder
held the package at his side as he approached Coral.  "Mrs. Kimper? I'm
Fox Mulder.  I occasionally worked with your sister.  I am very sorry at
your loss."  Turning to him, Coral replied, "Mr. Mulder, it is so kind of
you to come.  Brenda has...ha d mentioned working with you."  Coral didn't
elaborate on the things that her sister had said about working with
Mulder.  "Excuse me for asking at such a difficult time, but your sister
showed me a small urn that had belonged to her grandmother.  I was wo
ndering if you knew where it is now," asked Mulder.  "I know the urn that
you are talking about.  But I have no idea where it is.  I had asked her
about it and she said she had gotten rid of it.  She didn't say where or
how, though.  I was curious about w hat she had done with it, but then
there was the accident.  The drowning."  Coral's voice broke off.  "I'm
sorry to have bothered you, Mrs. Kimper. You have my deepest condolences."
Mulder then turned and walked away.  He stopped beside the gravesite
that mourners had surrounded a short time ago.  Now Mulder alone was
there.  Standing silently for a moment, Mulder bent down and place the
package on the grave.  Straightening up, Mulder then paused for another
moment before leav ing. 

Visitors to the cemetery that day commented on the unusual box snuggled
among the flowers on the new grave.  The delight of gods.  THE END