From: Megan Kennedy Date: Sat, 10 Jul 1999 18:20:00 -0700 (PDT) Title: "Dialogue III: Twenty Questions" Author: Megan E. Kennedy Email address: mekamorph@yahoo.com Rating: G Category: Spoilers: Genderbender, Tooms (sort of) Keywords: Summary: Our heros play Twenty Questions in a hospital waiting room. Disclaimer: They aren't mine. They will never be mine. I am a frustrated novelist and I can't come up with any good characters on my own so I'm stealing CC's for the time being. If you sue me, I WILL cry. Author's notes: This is part of the "Dialogue" series but does not need to be read in that context. They are all simply humerous pieces light on description and heavy on talking. FYI, the other stories are "The Shrunken Head" and "Krycek's Bleeding." "Dialogue III: Twenty Questions" by Megan E. Kennedy "The admitting nurse says that there's a wait," Scully said, slumping down next ot her partner. Mulder arched his eyebrows around the ice pack. "How long? My face feels like it's going to fall off." "She can't say. And I'm not surprised, considering you were hit with a banjo." "That is the last time I raid a music store. The absolute last." "Relax, at least it wasn't strung. Then you'd probably have some nasty lacerations." "If it was strung maybe I wouldn't have to wait," Mulder grumbled, slumping down in his seat. "Don't be such a baby. You're not dying." "But I'm in pain!" "Would you like me to ask that nurse if I can have some Tylenol?" Mulder rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine. I'll shut up." And he did. For about twenty seconds. "Scully, I'm bored." "That's nice." "I'm _bored_!" "What do you want me to do about it?" she challenged. "Let's play 'Twenty questions.'" "Fine, if you'll shut up." She put down her magazine and looked attentively at him. "You start asking." "Fine. Animal, vegtable, or mineral?" "I thought you could only ask yes-or-no questions." "Answer me or we won't play." "Fine. Animal." "Human or beast?" "Human...I think." She rolled her eyes. "Have we investigated you in the X-files?" "Oh, yeah." "Male or female?" "Indeterminate." "Let's see...Brother Andrew?" "No, though I find it interesting that he's the first to come to mind-owch!" Mulder found her knuckles suddenly intercepting his arm at high speed. "Now you have to get me another ice pack." "Oh, shut up. Brother Martin." "Bingo. My turn." "Ask away." "Okay...person, place, or thing?" "Thing." "Hmm...is it bigger than a breadbox?" "What kind of question is that?" "C'mon, Scully, I'm hurting here." "Oh, fine. Yes, it's bigger than a breadbox." "Can you lift it?" "Yes." "Is it...hmm...is it round?" "Partially." "It's a banjo, isn't it?" "Yeppers." "Scully! That's in bad taste!" Mulder looked at her reproachfully. "Oh, come on, you were asking for it." She smiled. "Sure. Fine. Whatever. Your turn to ask." "Okay...Human, animal, alien, or other?" "Human. Or animal, depending on his mood and the company." "Someone I've met in person?" "Oh, yeah." "A Bureau agent?" "God, no!" "Frohike?" "How'd you guess?" "I'm magic. Your turn." Mulder paused to adjust his icepack, revealing the extensive bruising that was alreay coming up. His eye was rapidly turning into a shiner. "Animal, humanoid, or something in between." "Oh, definately animal." "An X-File?" "Nope." "Queequeg." Scully arched her eyebrow. "How the hell did you guess that?" He shrugged. "If it wasn't an X-file, it was either Queequeg or my fish." "Now why would it be your fish?" "Why not?" Scully admitted he had a point. "Okay, my turn. Matter or energy?" "Eh...energy, I guess. It's more of an idea." "An idea?" "Yeah." "Ookay...is it a conspiracy?" "No..." "That's a first. Hmm..." "You're pensive." "What?" "I said you were pensive." "What compelled you to say that?" "I was looking at you thinking, and I thought: pensive." "Well, thank you, I guess. Does your idea have anything to do with politics?" "No." "Hmmm..." "Not governmental politics, anyway?" "Oh? Just what kind of politics are you talking about?" "I can't tell you, that's not a yes-or-no question." "You're being silly. Oh, fine...office politics?" "Nope. Not normally, anyway." "That only leave...sexual politics?" "Bingo." "Why, Mulder, I didn't know you cared." "Just asked the questions." Scully condisdered dragging out her tourture and decided it was pointless. "Fine. Is it that book, what's is called? The Laws?" "The Rules. And no." "I'm not going to ask how you know that. Eh...is it love at first sight?" "Nope." "An Oedipus complex?" "Scully, that's just weird." "Well, you're not being forthcoming." "I think this is more than twenty questions," Mulder said, inexplicably uncomfortable. "No, it's only seven." Scully held up her fingers to demonstrate. "Fine. Ask." "Is it...I give up, Mulder, what is it?" He looked away. "It's, uh...fate. That some people are fated to be together." Scully blinked. She suddenly remembered a conversation. *If that's iced tea...could be love.* *Must be fate, Mulder, it's root beer.* A nurse in maroon scrubs came out. "Mr. Mulder, they're ready for you." this should only take a minute." "Bye, Mulder." Scully watched him go with a strange expression.