From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: Sun, 12 Sep 1999 17:49:44 -0500 Subject: Johnny Rockets by Kate Source: direct Reply To: mochakoffee@hotmail.com Johnny Rockets (1/1) Author: Kate E-mail and Feedback: Tell me what you think: mochakoffee@hotmail.com Rating: very mild PG-13 (language) Archive: Anywhere, and everywhere, just please let me know so I can come visit Disclaimer: Well this one could be fun... first of all I own *nothing*! So here's the list of everything I don't own but wish I did, so thanks for letting me borrow it! Let's start with West Ed Mall ~ yeah *I wish* I owned that, all retail (Champions, Planet Hollywood, and, of course, Johnny Rockets), the rink, the Edmonton Oilers (kick ass), The Edmonton Journal, YMCA by the Village People, Last Kiss by Pearl Jam (and whoever the original artist of that song is), and of course Mulder, Scully and Kersh *shudder* (CC is God of TV). And to people, Doug Weight, Stephen King (for playing with your name), and Keith - I love the Ketchup. And to my Dad, You know what I like :) XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx Johnny Rockets (1/1) By Kate XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx December 21, 1998 Edmonton, Alberta 11:25 a.m. Federal Agent Dana Scully leaned tired on the counter and looked out the glassed wall of the busy store titled "Champions". The store overlooked an indoor ice arena where the city's hockey team the Edmonton Oilers were holding a practice in the city's West Edmonton Mall. The mall was extremely crowded, with it being near the holidays, but also this NHL team's practice seemed to draw at least another couple hundred fans to the area surrounding the arena to watch them skate. Scully was exhausted. She had already interviewed over 25 store managers in the bustling mall with no success. Two days ago she and Mulder were assigned by Kersh to track a suspected drug dealer, who was supposedly staying at the Fantasy Land Hotel in Edmonton. Both Scully and Mulder were immediately disgusted; another jack-off case that the FBI would normally not even give a second glance, rather hand it off to the local authorities. But since it had been a few weeks since Mulder and Scully had been out in the field Kersh decided he needed to send his two agents, with one of the highest success rates, out once again. Luckily, Mulder was the one who was stuck under-cover at a restaurant in the mall. He did definitely was *not* too pleased about it. Scully didn't blame him. Her thoughts returned to her boss, he was the one who assigned them here in the first place. Scully scowled silently to herself as she thought of her unreasonable and barely tolerable boss. His demeanour was just so... "Miss?" Scully's attention snapped back to the counter where a handsome, tall, young worker caught her attention, "Can I help you?" "Uh, yes." Scully fought to regain her professional composure as she stood up straight, "Special Agent Dana Scully, FBI," his young eyes widened as Scully flashed her badge and simultaneously placed a picture of the suspect on the counter. "I am conducting a search for this man," she pointed at the picture to prove her point, "his name is Stephen King and he is supposed to be currently staying at the mall here. Have you seen him within the past two or three days?" The young man's eyebrow arched with the mention of the name, but he made no comment. Instead, he gazed at the glossy photo in serious concentration. A pair of hazel eyes and bleached hair with blue streaks, and a bull type nose ring stared back at him. Scully knew this photo and the name combined added to the ridiculous nature of this case and she understood why most of the time today she wasn't taken seriously. "Ummm... sorry miss, I don't recognise him. Although I wasn't working yesterday, James was, I'll go show him... that is if you don't mind waiting a minute." The young man stalked over to where the other store clerk was working and handed him the picture along with, Scully supposed a detailed description of what was going on. She diverted her attention from the storyteller and his audience and once again focused her attention to the arena, as a familiar tune came on the stereo, "Oh where oh where can my baby be...". Ten, fine looking players skated about the ice in deep concentration, as they practised a scrimmage. Scully smiled as she noticed a young boy on the other side of the rink, with an Oilers jersey on laughing furiously. Her smile quickly disappeared as she noticed the commotion behind him. A tall, lanky man with a little white cap and a gun was in full sprint yelling two barely distinguishable words, "FBI! Freeze!" "Mulder." Scully whispered under her breath as she drew her FBI issued weapon and darted from the store. As soon as Scully exited the store she was immediately absorbed into a cheery crowd that was oblivious to what was occurring on the other side of the rink. Her attempts to run through the crowd to assist Mulder were useless, as the crowd was just too dense. Meanwhile she looked up across the rink and noticed that the suspect seemed to be gaining some ground on Mulder. "Enough of this," Scully said to no one particular, as she turned towards the rink and made her way to the front and under the protective net that was hung. She soon found herself staring into the player's box where about 15 curious hockey players diverted their concentration from their game to Scully's frustrated face. The player on the edge closest to her stood up and stated, "uh... miss you can't be, in front of the nets," he seemed a little rattled. *It's my gun* Scully thought. "Special Agent Dana Scully, FBI. I need to get across this rink immediately." Suspicious blue eyes stared at her with a 'yeah, sure' look, she exasperated, "Fine, I don't have time for this! I *am* going across this rink with or without your help," and with that Scully flicked on the safety switch on her gun, simultaneously tucking it in her holster, and grabbed onto the glass railing bordering the rink in an attempt to hoist herself on the ice surface. "Ok, ok," the player in the blue jersey realised her determination and stood, removing his gloves to help this 'FBI' agent onto the ice. "Weight! What the *hell* do you think you are doing?!" A powerful voice directed towards Scully and her helpful player. He consciously ignored that comment and instructed the 'crazy woman with the gun' to, "Hang onto my jersey." Scully grabbed fiercely onto the jersey strangling the number 39 that rested on the back, bracing herself as she began to glide easily across the ice. A fierce whistle pierced the air stopping the scrimmage and Scully suddenly realised that she now had an audience of an entire hockey team and about 4 or 5 hundred of their fans. "Dammit," she muttered under her breath as she ducked her head slightly, suddenly shy. Then she lifted her eyes searching for Mulder. She immediately saw him as she reached the opposite side of the arena and attempted to climb the steel fence, he had Stephen King handcuffed and was purposely escorting him away from the brightly-lit Planet Hollywood and towards the Security Desk. Before Scully was able to finish her ascent up the gate she was met and captured by 5 security officers, demanding that she drop her weapon and raise her hands where they can see them. Scully rolled her eyes and realised that her display obviously drew attention; however, she did as told. "Federal Agent Dana Scully. My ID is in my front right pocket," two officers exchanged glances then one approached her cautiously, however finding her ID right where it was supposed to be. "My partner has just captured our suspect and is escorting him to your security desk, so I expect since you want to take me there anyways, I would appreciate if we could go now." The officers shrugged and together they left towards the office. They were followed by a trail of news reporters and their cameras. ***** The Next Day Johnny Rockets Restaurant 12:45 p.m. "'Pulling some 'Weight'~ FBI Agents nab a dealer at WEM'. Well Scully I'm impressed. I do all the work, and somehow you get to have all the fun and all the praise," Mulder winked and took a sip of his milkshake as he pointed to the picture grazing the front page of the Edmonton Journal. A very determined Dana Scully clings purposely to hockey player, Doug Weight. Scully smiled sheepishly and stirred her vanilla coke, "Hey, all in a days work... right?" She glanced up mischievously, "So this is where you were stuck undercover? Doesn't seem too horrible to me," this time it was Scully's turn to wink as she glanced around the 60 styles restaurant with the workers in little white caps, the red and white tiles and matching booths, with little jukeboxes on each table, "I especially like the hats." "Hey, I thought it looked good on me," Mulder smiled, "I even have it right here..." Mulder reached in his pocket and pulled out a small little white cap and placed it on his head as their waiter Keith came over. "Mark? I thought you were supposed to be working today?" Keith obviously didn't know yet that Mulder was Mulder, and not the undercover 'Mark'. "Hey Keith, actually it's kind of a long story... My name's actually Fox Mulder, and this," he gestured to Scully, "is my FBI partner, Dana Scully." Keith's eyes widened with the mention of FBI as the front page of the paper rang a bell, "So you guys are the ones in the paper?" Mulder nodded, "Whoa! Very cool-" Suddenly Keith was interrupted as the song YMCA, by the Village People rang through the speakers, "hey, be right back," then he turned back to Mulder, "Come on Ma-, I mean, Agent Mulder on last time just for fun..." This time Mulder's eyes widened as he realised what Keith was purposing, "Uh no thanks, we're leaving right away anyways." Keith was persistent, "Aw, come on we all have to do it-" Scully cut in, eyes gleaming mischievously, "Yeah come on *Agent* Mulder," as she realised what was taking place. Mulder shot her a look; Scully noticed but ignored it. "Fine," it was more of a statement than an agreement but Mulder reluctantly stood and headed behind the counter of the restaurant and lined up with the rest of the workers. The music mirrored the staffs arm movements as they conformed to the letters of "YMCA." Mulder's abrupt yet perfectly choreographed movements adapting well to the situation. Scully sighed and shook her head at the sight before her, another jack-off case. Then she mused thoughtfully, at least this time it was more fun. XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx ~Johnny Rockets~ By Kate Likes, Didn't Like? Tell me: mochakoffee@hotmail.com XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx