Date: 21 Jul 1999 16:59:16 -0700
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Evil Wars: The Dentist Menace
By Cerulean Blue 2 and Pinkus
Email: ceruleanxf@hotmail.com and pinkus1013@hotmail.com

Cerulean Blue, like an asshole that he or she is, took the name of 
another Cerulean Blue accidentally. So, henceforth, this Cerulean Blue 
will be known as Cerulean Blue 2, or CB2. This is all very complicated, 
and you do realize that CB2 has a very small brain. It's a lot worse 
than adding up two and two and coming up with five or something around 
there. So CB2 is genuinely sorry for using someone else's name. CB2 
was drugged, anyway.

Classification: MSR, XA, other/other slash
Rating: NC-17 (crude tripled)
Archive: oh yeah, baby! Just ask us!
Feedback: oh, baby? gimme that!
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are such cool, cool characters! We love 
them SOOO much! We think they were meant to be together! And CC and 
company, who they belong to, really, should write lots of romance and 
smut and stuff, and steam up the screen!
Summary: We all know that Mulder and Scully are perfect for each other, 
but what happens when their relationship is threatened by an evil 
force?

Author's Notes: Our friends, Red-Headed Chick, The Big Apple, and The 
Cuckoo Lady, were going to write a sequel to one of our sequels. They 
haven't so far. How come, pals? Just remember, we love you, and you 
give us inspiration every day. 

X-Files Office
Somewhere in the J.Edgar Hoover building

Sometimes, Mulder wanted to get inside Scully's head so badly that he 
would sell his yearly supply of fish food just to get some handy tools 
like a screwdriver and pliers, to finally look and see what she was 
thinking. He was just desperately wanting to know whether she loved 
him as much as he loved her, and if she thought of him constantly the 
way a puppy thinks about a delicious bone to snack on, and if she 
wanted to get some handy tools of her own to unscrew his head. 

He wondered all of these thoughts while staring at her with laser beam 
intensity while they did some of that gosh darn awful work that that 
mean Kersh had punished them with.  Gosh, she had been acting weird 
lately.  The past few days she had been scratching her neck -- like a 
red headed dog that had fleas, or rabies... or some other gross 
infestation.

Mulder really wanted to do all this scratching himself, and he thought 
that he would offer, but he was pretty sure that "Could I clean out 
your nose for you?" had to go before "Could I scratch your back?" He 
thought he would invite her over for a romantic dinner, set out just 
the way she would like it, with lots of black candles burning and red 
wine flowing and morbid music streaming from the stereo, to put her in 
just the right mood. Or maybe she was into the gothic scene?  Then he 
would do all these things he wanted to do for years, like hold her 
eyes up to the light to make sure that they were really blue and she 
wasn't wearing lenses, and claw at her lips to make sure they weren't 
injected with silicone, and then scratch her back.

Scully stood up straight, like a feminine soldier, "I have to go get 
my wisdom teeth out."  Mulder looked at her with much confusion.  Oh, 
he had long since studied her dental records and knew them like he 
knew the grooves in his feet.  "I thought you already had them out," 
he responded with his Mulder-esque voice.  "You don't understand," she 
said strongly.  "I  *have* to get them out."  She looked up to the 
ceiling of the office, as if the aliens were coming, as if she was 
expecting the sky to fall, as Chicken Little did in the child's tale, 
except Mulder adeptly noted, Scully looked nothing like a chicken.  
She walked mechanically to the door, reached out to grab the door knob, 
pulled open the door, moved her feet, and then walked out of the 
office, and then closed the door again, then continued walking.

Mulder thought that something was really fishy about it, and that it 
stunk awfully like lots of dead rotten fish that weren't used by the 
cook. He sniffed the air a few more times and realized that it was 
really not fish, and not even his feet that he forgot to wash a few 
days just because he was so lost in thoughts about his itchy scratchy 
beloved Scully. It was the smell as welcome as that of a muddy 
graveyard, replete with corpses oozing the gunk out of their eyes. 
It was the smell of Morleys.


A Dentist Office 
Somewhere in D.C.

Scully was sitting in the cowhide of the dentist's chair, feeling like 
she was drunk and floating on the whipped cream that was on milk 
shakes.  Goddamn!  Those drugs were damn good.  Cancerman stared into 
her cloudy blue eyes, wondering if his visual marbles had ever looked 
like that.  He turned toward the dentist and nodded, moving his head 
as if it were attached to a bouncy spring.  The dentist opened her 
mouth, and sprayed a bit of Bianca -- one could never be too sure 
about the state of the breath of federal agents.  Oh!  Weren't Agent 
Scully's pearls just so beautiful!  The dentist knew that right after 
this procedure he would need to write a sonnet about them.  But first 
he had to implant the chocolate chip into her teeth.  The marvels of 
chocolate DNA were unfathomable -- soon the aliens would be on their 
knees, begging like cheap flying zebras at the zoo.

She smiled at the dentist, because she thought that he looked really 
cute, the kind of a guy she'd like to bring home and show off to her 
girlfriends from highschool -- and boy, did she have a lot of them! He 
had a bouncy round belly, and the gleaming satellite of a head that 
just screamed, "beam me up," and his ears were wrinkly and utterly 
kissable. And his skillful fingers inside her mouth were so gentle, 
and warm, and she knew that she could love this man if he'd only 
accept her affections. She would give everything just to be the piece 
of chocolate stuck in his crooked teeth. 

The dentist thought that his patient looked awfully cute with that 
vaguely disgusted look on her face. Maybe she was trying to share 
that she didn't really like that fishy-smelly guy supervising the 
proceedings, or maybe she was just letting him know that the weather 
hadn't been so good lately. He liked bonding with his patients. When 
he was little, and said to his father, "Daddy, I want to be a dentist 
when I grow up," he thought not only that it would be a great place 
to apply his sadistic skills, but also a great opportunity to meet 
with people. 

Ten years later, a remission from lung cancer, a DDS degree, and a 
selling of his soul to the earthbound devils, here he was!  He looked 
at his tray of tools, perusing the many types of chocolate on his 
tray.  What to choose?  Milk chocolate was definitely the sturdiest... 
but the DNA of dark chocolate had a more feminine side to it... of 
course, white chocolate was known for its artistic capabilities.  He 
took his tweezers, being careful not to choose the ones he used to 
pluck his arm pit hairs with.  He settled on the Hershey's chocolate, 
because it tasted good, and carefully tweezed it between the red head's 
two back teeth.  Now it just looked like she had a big-assed cavity... 
but a delicious looking one at that.  "Take that, alien scum," he 
hissed, spraying "wake up" gas into Scully's face so that she would 
wake up, like sleepy birds do when they are just born.

Scully woke up, blinking her eyes with the frequency of a radio wave, 
and looked around like she wasn't sure why her teeth were so bad and 
why she needed to visit the dentist. She thought that brushing five 
times a day with a super-rotating toothbrush and a super-cleaning 
toothpaste would help her, but apparently she was doomed. 

"Spit right here," the smily bald man told her. He looked just like 
Skinner if Skinner was shortened down, and extended at the waist, and 
put a white coat on. 

He collected her spit very carefully, because it was going to be saved 
for lots of genetic experiments, very secret in their nature, but very 
sadistic and agonizingly torturous, nonetheless. He thought he 
wouldn't tell her that they kept that precious mucus derived from her 
mouth, because she would probably think it was violation of her body 
or something. 

But Agent Scully was too busy looking at the smelly-fishy bad man 
behind him. She thought immediately that she was in trouble and 
prayed that her brave and beautiful man would save her. 

"You stinky person!" she said with lots of meanness, looking for a gun. 
"What do you want now!"

Cancerman bared his teeth, and the dentist thought that he could use 
some chocolate himself, because they were really bad. His words 
chilled Scully to the bones of her little toes.

"You will eat chocolate for the rest of your life."


Scully's Apartment 
Somewhere in the USA

Mulder raced around Scully's apartment like a car at the Indy 500.  
Where was she?  Surely getting your wisdom teeth out didn't take this 
long.  I mean, the procedure, he thought very medically, relying on 
what he had learned from the Discovery Channel about dentistry on zoo 
animals, involved only cutting into the gums and then the jaw bone, 
and then crushing the wisdom teeth, and then extracting them, and 
sewing the entire mouth shut.  Nothing to it!  Where was his Scully?  
When would he next see her beautiful ears, and her little bunny-like 
nose?  Something that felt like gas in his gut was telling him that 
something might be wrong, like maybe he had left the iron on at home, 
or that he had left his car lights on, but perhaps it really was gas, 
so Mulder decided to do nothing.  Suddenly!  There was a knock on the 
door.  "I must get that," Mulder acknowledged.  Surely, he had to give 
some business to Jehovah's witnesses.

So when Mulder opened the door and behind the door there stood Diana 
Fowley, her entire face beaming with the unearthly joy, he knew for 
sure that she'd done something horrible to Scully just so that she 
could have him, Mulder, the unwilling and unwitting victim, all to her 
bad self. And he thought that the earth had split right under his 
stinky feet, so upset he was. Fowley took off her gloves, baring her 
claws, and then she smiled, baring her teeth. Her nostrils flew open, 
and he thought that she would have to slice him and dice him before he 
would ever clean that nose for her! Only Scully deserved such an honor! 
Mulder didn't know what to do. So he sat down on the floor and cried 
as if his apartment had just been burned down, and all the moldy 
treasures he kept in the refrigerator had gone to waste.

"Fox," she said with a false sweetness that oozed of too much cotton 
candy that made you puke afterwards.  "I loved you once, even if you 
think I'm grotesque.  So, here is a good bye present: Scully's getting 
sucked in by the chocolate.  You have one hour to save her before she 
becomes one of 'us'."  She kissed him passionately, smelling like 
passion fruit, knowing that the passion that they had once shared was 
gone, like cheap Cuban cigars that had been decapitated passionately.  
She slammed the door in his face, hoping that she would catch his big 
nostrils in the way - such was the risk with slamming doors.  Mulder 
fingered his lips, which were freezing with the fowl one's touch.  
Perhaps if he brought a hammer to them, his lips would shatter into 
quite a few pieces, complementating Scully's modern decor.  But enough 
of that!  He had to go to the dentist!   

Forget his paranoia: that dentists were really S&M sadists who had a 
recognized outlet to legitimately practice.  He spat on the floor.  
God, he would give his left leg for a good dose of garlic.  Anything 
to get rid of the taste of chocolate in his mouth.

So he wouldn't be able to kiss Scully when he saved her, and for a 
long long minute that lasted almost an hour, he contemplementated 
whether it was worth saving her at all. A kiss, one passionate, 
searing, earth-shattering, ear-destructive moment when her lips locked 
onto his, and a key was lost forever? He remembered, too late, that he 
would be really late in saving Scully if he didn't leave right now and 
he knew that if she became a chocolate addict that kiss would never be 
his to claim anyway. So he poured water on her flowers and made sure 
that he closed all the doors and windows, double-checked that the 
stove was turned off in the kitchen, and patted his pockets to make 
sure that he had his ID and if the police stopped him while he was 
driving like a speed demon to save his beloved partner, he could show 
it to them. He didn't want to delay things even further, after all, 
with the bad policemen, undoubtedly working for the Consortium, 
writing him a ticket.

So he left, and realized he had only five minutes to get to the dentist's 
office. He decided that he would be the wrath on all chocolate and 
cocoa beans everywhere. And then, when she was finally free, he would 
prove to everyone that Hershey's was a branch of Consortium. It would 
be easy.


Dentist Office
Somewhere on Earth

Scully could not move... it felt like her joints were stuck in cement. 
"I am a Scully statue," she thought sadly, tasting the milkiness of 
chocolate in her mouth, knowing that this would seriously screw up her 
daily dental regiment.  If only someone would save her!  If only 
someone would swoop down like a pelican and grab her in his claws 
from all this nastiness!  If only that someone would kiss her until 
her lips grew numb from lack of blood circulation and then grew 
gangrenous.  If only they could throw her onto the bed for a night of 
violent, passionate sex where sweat steamed off their bodies like in 
the Sahara desert.  Then she realized: Mulder was her one true love.  
How could she be so blind?  He had such eagle eyes... a nose that was 
so big that it could be a beak... feet that were so big that they 
could easily be webbed.

She swore that if she ever got out of this hell on earth where 
chocolate was more prevalent than all the little air-molecules, she 
would tell Mulder that she really, no really, truly loved him. And she 
didn't even need that screwdriver to get inside his skull and make 
sure that he felt the same way. Any normal and slightly abnormal guy 
would, after all: she always looked really cute, even while she was 
dying from cancer, and she made sure that her hair was always shiny, 
and that her eyes were always sparkling, and that her gait was always 
exuberant, like she just couldn't wait to get on with the rest of even 
the worst day. Oh, she thought miserably, but once I start eating 
chocolate, my skin will have acne, like in all those pizza-face 
commercials, and my teeth will rot, like that of that fishy stinky 
person, and I will grow fat and ugly and nobody will ever love me!

Oh Mulder, Mulder, she thought. Please love me even when I have really 
bad hair.

Mulder stormed into the dentist's office, like a bat out of hell, 
meaning no copyright infringement to Meatloaf, Mulder silently noted, 
although there had been many times where he wished that his parents 
had named him Bat Mulder instead of Fox Mulder.  "Scully!" he said 
very loudly, hearing his throat vibrate like the vibrators he often 
saw in those naughty stories in which he bought his magazines. He ran 
to her, picking her up in her arms, feeling his intestines grow cold 
as she didn't move.  "Oh no!  She's been turned into a Scully statue!" 
He dropped her onto the floor, falling onto his knees, knowing that 
the passage of time was becoming very important, like when you're 
writing a multiple choice exam and you've circled all the answers in 
the question book, but then you notice that you have a separate answer 
sheet with bubbles that you have to fill in with an HB pencil, but 
there's only ten minutes left, and there are two hundred questions.  
He ripped open her shirt, his eyes opening as wide as Uranus at the 
site of her silky red bra.  How had he not noticed this underneath 
that flimsy white blouse?

He knew instantly that he had to perform CPR, like he was taught at 
the Academy, where they made sure that you knew just what to do when 
your partner was turned into a statue. All he had to do was push on 
her chest really hard, making sure that there was a crack or two, 
because that let you know you were doing a fine job. Then he had to 
squish her ears, making sure that she heard no screams from all the 
people that would always tell him he was doing something wrong, 
because that would be very distracting, and Scully was already weak. 
Even if there were no people here, it was a part of the routine that 
he performed regularly on all the people who he'd seen turned into 
statues before. No one recovered yet, but that didn't deter him from 
trying. So he held her perfectly sculpted head tightly in his hands, 
pushing with one knee on her rising and falling breasts, and kissed 
her, sucking all the poison out of her. 

It was as beautiful as he'd always dreamed it would be: Scully lying 
under him, her bra touching his leg, his tongue licking her gums, 
dislodging badly installed DNA chips, and making her more human than 
human, becoming even more human in the process. That's what being 
human and in love was all about, after all.

Mulder's tongue swirled in his mouth -- Scully's saliva was like a 
bubbling hot tub that surrounded his pink, oral body.  He sucked and 
sucked like an angry vacuum cleaner, sucking all he can, not stopping 
even when his mouth muscles were getting tired.  Finally, Scully's 
mouth tasted nothing like chocolate, but of well... Scully's saliva, 
which Mulder's already had tasted when he had stolen her tutti frutti 
ice cream desserts, and once he had even tried putting on her 
lipstick... just for the taste of it.  Her arms suddenly waved around 
and her legs kicked at the air, just like a toddler who was undergoing 
a temper tantrum.  Mulder moved away; he wouldn't want Scully to bite 
down on his tongue -- that would just be too painful, and his little 
partner would never be able to hear the three magic words come from 
his mouth:  "Scully, you are my one and only Chunky Monkey."

Scully's depthless eyes were gazing at him like she was a lioness and 
he was food for her little children. Her expression was tender, yet 
hungry, and he suddenly thought that she was the most beautiful woman 
he'd ever seen in this room, and that she probably loved him just as 
much as he loved her and she probably wouldn't care if he shaved his 
head and stopped wearing Armani suits. He didn't have to pretend 
anymore, he could be whoever he wanted to be. 

Scully suddenly grabbed him in her arms, holding him tightly like he 
was going to escape just like a cockroach often disappears in the 
floorboards before you have a chance to grab him and kill him good, a 
few times, to make sure that he didn't give birth to any cockroach 
babies. "Mulder," she cried in wonder, "I remember! It's all so clear 
now, like it happened yesterday!"

Mulder was really glad that she remembered something, because usually 
those people who stopped being statues would not remember much, mainly 
because they would be dead and couldn't talk, so it was a very good 
sign. "What do you remember, oh love of mine?"

"Oh love of mine, my booger bum, they must have erased your memories! 
Now we will never be happy," Scully sniffed, her despair immeasurable. 
"Don't you remember?"

Mulder's eyes clouded over in confusion.  He was so confused.  What 
was she talking about? "Please explain it to me, Scully."  She smiled 
at the memory; it felt like a gust of wind refreshing her loins after 
a cold shower in a waterfall in the middle of January.  "That summer 
in Boston.  I was six, and I called you," she closed her eyes, feeling 
the memory pass over her like a lawn mower.  "Little Fox.  And you 
called me Little Dana."  She clapped her hands together and jumped up 
and down with glee.  "Oh, those were happy times.  We were so carefree, 
and young.  We played hopscotch and sang songs and ate cotton candy 
and walked along the beach and tore the legs off of spiders and ate 
earthworms and built forts and were the bestest of friends in the 
whole wide world."  Mulder slapped his forehead.  "Oh yeah!" he said, 
realization dawning like a mushroom cloud.  

They met when she was six, and he was? some age around that age, it 
was very difficult to count exactly. Mulder's parents brought him to 
the dentist, one of the good dentists that was not working for 
Hershey's, and Scully's parents brought her to the same dentist, at 
the same time, and they held hands while the good dentist polished 
their teeth. It was heaven. And now that they were back in the 
dentist's office, it all came rushing back: the taste of each other's 
spit, the old teeth that would fall out of their mouths while they 
were eating candy or kissing, the way little Dana was taller than 
little Fox, and he thought that if he didn't love her so much, he'd 
beat her up or something just for being taller.

"Oh wow," Mulder sighed, as all the realizations of his dreams tumbled 
down from heaven like a rain shower of cats and frogs. "We've broken 
their evil spell, Dana! We're finally free now that we remember who 
our friends were when we were six or around that age."

Scully's top was wide open, and red clothed fleshy moons were 
beckoning him like the moon often does for howling foxes.  Chuckling 
to him, congratulating himself for making such a clever pun, he gently 
licked her chin -- feeling his man's gland appreciate the gesture.  
Scully made a moaning noise, sounding like a hybrid experiment that 
had involved a cow and an elephant gone awry.  "More," she panted, 
tugging at Mulder's shirt with her pearly white, Hershey's-less teeth, 
just wishing that the damn thing was edible.  She sucked his nipple, 
bringing back memories of Boston and sucking Popsicles, and licking 
until your tongue and lips became raw and colored. 

And when she freed her throbbing groin from the panties that were 
sticking to it like postal stamps stick to the letter, and he guided 
his manhood inside of that hole that was waiting just for him, like a 
magnet attracting iron, they finally connected in that inevitably 
volcanic moment, and they decided that they would be everything they 
ever wanted to be, including sex maniacs. They would bump like bunnies 
every day and every night, on the floor, in the office, on the table, 
under the bed, and on a hanging lamp if they could find one. They 
would fulfill the destiny that awaited them since that inevitable 
first glance, first love, when they were in Boston and just a little 
boy and a little girl with bad teeth and ugly braids. 

And Cancerman and the evil dentist, while looking at such happiness, 
and getting profoundly turned on by such steamy sex, decided that they 
hadn't had any in a long while, and they looked at each other in tears 
of love and lust, and they kissed, the taste of Hershey's making them 
dizzy. 

Who could resist when love was in the air?

The End

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