From: "Diadem" <diadem@mcmail.com>
Date: Fri, 4 Dec 1998 12:33:27 -0000
Subject: Househunting 2 (1/1) by Diadem


Title: Househunting 2 (1/1)

Author: Diadem

Rating: G?  Pretty general.

Category: S, H.

Disclaimer: They are not mine.  They belong to CC, Fox, 
10-13, DD and GA.  I am making no money from this, but 
if I did, I would spend it all on XF videos anyway!

Archive: Gossamer, yes, all others let me know.

Notes:  Well, I got requests for a sequel (strange, that...), so here 
it is.  If you want more, let me know!  This one is from Scully's 
point of view, but I've kept Mulder the same as in Househunting (I 
hope!).

Feedback:  Of course:  Diadem@cwcom.net


Househunting 2 (1/1)
   By Diadem

It was light.  Dana Scully was awake, but she had decided not to 
open her eyes just yet.  She was lying on a mattress.  There was a 
dusty smell.  For some reason, the phrase "The morning after the 
night before" popped into her mind.  The house.  Ah yes, the 
house.  That would explain the dusty smell.  But there was 
something else, not just dust, a kind of, buring smell....
     She was standing almost before her eyes were open.  When 
she did open them, she wished she hadn't.  God, the house looked 
worse in daylight, and she hadn't thought that was possible.  
Anyway, she may not have to deal with that if it was on fire.  Two 
homes in as many weeks, her mind cheerfully reminded her.
     She made it out onto the landing without incident, and started 
to negotiate the stairs.  Her cast was still slightly restricting her 
movement, but she was getting faster.  As soon as she hit the 
floor, she half ran, half hobbled into the kitchen.  Her new kitchen.  
The house's saving grace.
     Well, that was definitely where the smell was coming from, she 
reflected.  For some reason she was calm.  There wasn't really 
anything else to do, in the circumstances.
     The pristine white ceiling had a black patch right above the 
stove.  The stove itself was mostly black, as were the counters in 
its immediate vincinity.  There were eggshells, at least two dozen, 
spread over every available surface, including the floor.  The smoke 
alarm looked like it had been attacked with a heavy object: yep, 
there was the rolling pin on the draining board, presumably where it 
had landed, judging from the large dent.  Several slices of burnt 
toast littered the table.  The whole effect was completed by the 
heavy curtain of smoke which filled the room, dispite the best 
efforts of the lone extractor fan, bravely battling with the onslaught.
     Scully just stood and surveyed the damage.  She was 
surprised: not to find the kitchen a mess, but to find the kitchen in 
this BIG a mess.  He could only have been up an hour or so, how 
could he have had time to do that much damage?  It was an X File. 
      Resigned to her fate, she sat down and waited for Mulder to 
appear.
     She did not have long to wait.  He emerged through the back 
door less than a minute later, coughing as the smoke caught in his 
throat.  He was wearing jeans, and a slightly charred sweatshirt, 
and was clutching a frying pan with both hands.  "Morning, Mulder."
     She could have sworn she heard him yelp.  "Ah, morning 
Scully.  Sleep well?"  He offered.
     "Fine.  Thank you.  Um, Mulder...?"  She couldn't help but 
wonder.
     "Oh, this!"  He gestured to the back door.  "I had to bring the 
frying pan inside."
     "Oh."  That explained it all.  She wasn't even going to ASK.
     "Would you like some breakfast?"  He coughed again.  "I would 
recommend the cereals."
     "She knew she shouldn't ask.  "Why?"  Bother!
     "Well, the other option is eggs, but I haven't found a way to stop 
them soaking into the bread yet."
     "Cereals are fine."  He reached for the cupboard.  She leapt out 
of her seat.  "Tell you what, why don't I get those?  You open the 
doors, see if we can get rid of some of this smoke, huh?"  She 
reached for a bowl.
     "Guess what we're doing this morning?"  Oh have mercy on my 
soul, he sounded enthusiastic.
     "What?"  Maybe she could pick up some prozac on the way.
     "We're going to the store to get paint!"  Three year old Mulder 
strikes again, Scully thought as she placed the bowl of Cheerios 
on the table.  Smoked cereal, now there was an idea.  Maybe she 
could market it, make lots of money, and buy her own house.  
Wait a minute!  PAINT!!!  Scully suddenly realised that she was 
going to be doing a lot more praying in the next few weeks, if not 
years.  Oh well, she thought.  Lock him in a room with a can of 
paint and a brush, how much harm can he do?  But as her gaze 
wandered over the kitchen, she had a feeling she knew.

End 2

If you want more, you gotta tell me!

Diadem@cwcom.net