From: "David Hearne" Date: Fri, 25 Feb 2000 15:25:50 -0500 Subject: xfc: My F___ing Soulmate (1 of 1) Source: xfc TITLE: MY F___ING SOULMATE (1 of 1) AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE CLASSIFICATION: Post-ep for "The Jersey Devil" RATING: R ARCHIVE: If you feel like it, honeycake. WEBSITE: I keep forgetting to mention it, but I do have a website at http://members.dencity.com/hearne SPOILERS: Jersey Devil, Squeeze MESSAGE TO CHRIS CARTER, 10-13, FOX AND MEDIA OVERLORD RUBERT MURDOCH -- I did it for the feedback! The feedback! So you can take your lawsuit And stick it up your --- yeah! Stick it up your -- yeah! Stick it up your -- yeah! (Apologies to Limp Bizkit. On second thought, no apologies to Limp Bizkit whatsover.) XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "I'm so horny I could screw the crack of dawn!" -- Tom Waits XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "She was beautiful." Key-rap. That is so Mulder. Some prehistoric broad almost rips his stomach out and all he can think about were her looks. Come to think of it, that is so male. All this shit we keep hearing about the new sensitive man...it's all lies. The hump factor is a man's highest priority and a beast woman is his greatest fantasy. I'm so sick of listening to men whine that they've been emasculated by the "feminazis." You know who I'm talking about -- all those fools who go out into the woods with Robert Bly and beat on drums and try to "reclaim their penises." No, boys, the problem is that you can't control the damn things to begin with. There ain't a female alive who hasn't heard "I'm so sorry. I just got all excited." Okay. I'm starting to sound like Roseanne. Or a Terry McMillan novel. In truth, the average man would know to be scared if he was ever pinned down by a beast woman. However, Mulder is not average in his intellect, desires or personality. I can see the look in his eyes when he talks about "the unknown areas of human knowledge." He actually gets turned on when he thinks about ghosts and mutants. Often, I tempted to say, "Mulder, if you met an alien, you wouldn't know whether to study it or make love to it." All right. That isn't a fair thing to say, either. Sigh. I admit it. I'm a little disappointed about how my date went. Why shouldn't I be? It's not that I expected it to led to true romance, marriage and five kids. However, I wouldn't have been above some steady companionship and a little nookie. And I might have gotten that except for the fact... Sigh again. There's something to be said for a guy who's a bit of a beast himself. You know, a little hot blood to go with good manners? Just to keep you from falling asleep? Mulder had got plenty of hot blood. There are a lot of good agents who joined the FBI for the same reason other people become insurance salesmen or bank managers. It's what they're skilled at, but it's not an occupation they feel passionaite about. Mulder, on the other hand... Well, it will be pointless to bring up again how Mulder threw aside advancement for his beliefs. Whatever else I think about him, I admire his committment. The work has some solid purpose for him other than just a weekly check. It reminds me of why I chose to be an FBI agent in the first place. Yes, I did it because I wanted to feel that it was me and not my parents in charge of my destiny. Yes, I also did it because I wanted to prove that a short woman could handle herself as well as any no-neck G-man. However, I did it because I wanted to feel important to the world. And for some reason, I couldn't get that feeling from being a doctor. There were other problems I wanted to address. I felt a need to hunt down the people who would inflict pain on others. Contrary to what certain bozos might think, I'm not a FBI agent because I feel "endowed" by my gun. (I don't even *like* guns. I know all too well what they can do to a human body.) I've taken on this job because I want to bring a little safety and comfort to this beleagured world. That's not to say everybody in this profession is like that. Some of us put their own careers ahead of our obligations. (Rot in hell, Tom Colton.) Again, that's what I admire about Mulder. He's the opposite. In a way, working with him has been good for me, despite all the headaches. He's reminded me that there has to be some higher calling, something that transcends office politics and protocol in order to make this job meaningful. How did I get started on this? Oh, yeah. We were talking about my inability to get laid. I can't blame all the deficiencies of my lovelife on my job or Mulder (though they do comprise a good bleeding chunk of the problem.) I have never been able to quite...connect...with other men. In that way. On a regular basis. "I know why," a college roommate of mine once said as I brought up this problem to her. You must keep in mind that this discussion was being had over vodka screwdrivers poured into Snoopy cups so anything said is of questionable value. "By all rights, you should be romantically involved right now," she said. "You're pretty, you're smart, you're funny..." "Are you coming onto me?" "You wish. Anyway, you are overall one foxy chick..." "Shit, you are coming onto me." "Will you shut up? I tried a lesbian relationship once, but I realized it wouldn't work when my lover and I started arguing and I yelled, 'What is this? Are you having your period?'" "Oh, so you were the guy in the relationship." "Shut UP. Now... "...as I was saying... "What was I saying?" "You were saying that I was a foxy chick." "Right. Despite your attractive qualities, you are not regularly involved with somebody because..." She did a drumbeat on the floor we were sitting on. "...you haven't found your soulmate yet." "Huh?" "Your soulmate. Your cosmic lover. The one bound to you through space and time. That guy." "Oh, please." "I'm serious. There is this...definite vibe coming off you, Dana..." "You do realize that the seventies are over, right?" "Listen to me, okay? People look at you and they know...you're waiting for someone. And you know it, too. There is somebody out there...and this is the guy you'll be bound to throughout eternity, drifting through clouds of bliss." "'Clouds of bliss?'" "Trust me. You're not someone who is going to have a lot of boyfriends. What you're going to have is one true love." I looked down at the spiked orange juice in my cup. Snoopy was going toe-to-toe with the Red Baron again. "Well...I have to admit it's not an unappealing idea." My roommate looked me over and said, "Uh...you know...it doesn't have to be a guy. I meant it when I said you were a foxy chick. If you were to ever consider..." At this point, she barfed on the rug. A soulmate. No, it's not a bad idea at all. Still, I imagine you would have to look for awhile. Go through a few men before you found the real deal. Or maybe he's right under your nose. Oh, no. No, no, no. No, Dana, you silly woman. I trust Mulder as a partner. He's already saved my life. As I've said repeatedly, I admire his intelligence and steadfastness. And he *is* cute. However, when explaining why I wouldn't go out on a date with him, the first thing out of my mouth was "He's a jerk." I corrected myself but my first answer has a few kernel of truths in it. A basketful of them, in fact. My second answer was that he was wrapped up in his work. Getting involved with him means sticking with The X-Files. And that basement office is not where I want to spend my career in. It's not a question of advancement. I just feel that my destiny is not to be Mrs. Spooky. Destiny. Sheesh. How did a contemplation of my need for a good, simple fuck become so high-minded? Maybe, for now, I should get more basic. You know, make the scene with a magazine. And think about someone while I'm doing it. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX