From: mdillhoff@hotmail.com Date: Sat, 10 Jun 2000 13:14:04 GMT Subject: New 1/1 The Meandering Will Title: The Meandering Will Author: Soleta Summary: The events leading up to... the photograph. Category: V Rated: R for... very odd thoughts. Disclaimer: I didn't do anything with them that they haven't done themselves. Bet you anything. Notes: Written in second person. You can deal with it, I'm sure. M/S sex/relationship type thing. But it's not my fault. You head for the morgue office. You think that perhaps, you'd left your papers on the secretary's desk when you started stealing her chocolate. That had definitely been a bad idea, you think as you glance down at your stomach. You don't need to get any chubbier. The soft sounds of giggles echoed through the steel and chrome chambers as you walk in. That's odd, you think. Nobody should be in here at-you check your watch-nine at night. Hmmm. You've heard about a gang of freaks who decide they want to engage in necrophilia lately in the news; what if they've decided they want one of your `patients' this time? Glancing around, you see a set of gleaming scalpels on the table to your side. You pick up the biggest one, having a flashback to the time your father carved the turkey at Thanksgiving with one of your scalpels, and very, very lightly start to stalk towards where you think the sounds are coming from. They've changed, however. Now, soft moans and little sighs are coming from the room in front of you, the actual autopsy chamber. They're the sounds of sex; soft, fun sex, of the type that you haven't had for a while. You sigh in envy even while you hold the scalpel at the ready-someone's getting some, and it's not you! You shy away from the thought that you'd even consider necrophilia to end the dry spell you've unfortunately been having for the past forever or so. Guiltily, as you creep towards the entrance to the room, you wonder at the mechanics of females having sex with dead men-did their *cough* equipment stay... primed? Thankfully, loud masculine and feminine moans distract your attention from your insane thoughts and bring you back to the mission at hand. It sounded like they were finishing the race. Peeking into the door of the main bay, you see a familiar strawberry head laying on the chest of an unfamiliar dark man. You stand, stunned, forgetting even to breathe for a moment. *Dr. Scully* was having sex in the autopsy bay?! But with who? You inch into the room, trying to see the face of the man she was lying on, and you purse your lips as you recognize the face of the gorgeous man she occasionally came into the office with. Forgetting all about your notes, you sneak off as quickly as possible to fetch the camera you *knew* you'd seen in the office while hunting for your notes. Ah, there! Checking the shutter-too bad it was only a black and white camera-you hurry back towards the main autopsy bay. You manage to stick the scalpel back in its case while you're hurrying by, thanking whoever's listening for not dropping it and alerting both Sleeping Beauties over there. You're wondering how you're going to get a good shot of them without waking them up, however. Because you just know that if you wake them up, and they see the camera, they'll take it. Hmm. The only plan you can think of is to make loud noises in the next room over, and when they wake up, take the picture, and start to rattle the knob of their room, hopefully making them fear getting caught. The only problem is that... well... it's not exactly the best plan in the world. You almost chicken out of the whole thing, except for the fact that you'd hate yourself afterwards for missing such an event. So. You sneak into the room and arrange the camera on the shelf across from the lab table they're using as a bed. You wince at every soft *tink* of metal hitting plastic, every sound magnified in your intense desire to be as quiet as possible. You then slip into the next room and take a deep breath, firmly holding the camera remote in one hand and your nerves in the other. The hand holding your nerves quickly grabs the doorknob and rattles it a bit, producing a noise that nearly shattered your weakened nerves. You then realize that it will have to be louder in order to wake them, so you take another deep breath and rattle the knob as hard as you're worth. A smile comes to your face as you hear slight noises in the other room and you think of the old joke about rattling people's chains... You somehow remember to count the number of times you hit the 'expose' button. (That word brings to mind another image, thereby proving how badly your mind has become corrupted.) As you walk towards their room and have nearly taken all of the pictures on the film, you stow the remote in your pocket and bang some equipment around. There is silence from the other room now, and you decide they must have snuck out the other door. You snicker at the thought of the pictures and what they might "reveal" about Dr. Scully and her mystery man...