From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: REPOST: PAINT-BALLS 1/? Date: 30 Sep 1995 22:42:58 GMT I really don't know if this is going to work, but here (hopefully) is the first part of Paint-Balls, written by Sheryl. Alex. ************************************************************************ Subject: TEST - PLEASE IGNORE If anyone's reading this, this is to find out what the hell is happening to my last few stories... I really don't know - I haven't changed a thing over the last six months... "This is annoying me, Scully." Mulder said "Then just blow his head off..." She added, passing him the large gun. "That's a great idea." He smiled, and then did so. This is only a test. If this had been a real story, you might have gotten a plot. Sheryl Martin =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: REPOST: PAINT-BALLS 2/? Date: 30 Sep 1995 22:49:13 GMT Written by Kath (mickf@lure.latrobe.edu.au) ************************************************************************ This is a cool story! I mean it. It's refreshing, short, to the point. Can i try a part two? Mulder sat down in the cafeteria for a coffee and two pounds of sunflower seeds as Skinner approached anger inscribed in every line of his face. "Agent Mulder was it you who just blew off Agent Scully's head?" "Yup." "......... Oh." ...... And the crowd goes wild......... I can see a virtual book being written here...... Kath. =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: REPOST: PAINT-BALLS 3/? (By Juliett) Date: 30 Sep 1995 23:12:06 GMT ************************************************************************ You are one sick puppy, Kath. And if you'll go back and reread you'll notice that the indefinite pronoun used in Sheryl's "part one," as you call it, was very DEFINITELY male. Therefore, Mulder did NOT blow Scully's head off (shame on you for even THINKING it!). And so, without further ado, I pick up the gauntlet in an attempt to salvage the situation. . . . *Part Three* Mulder shook his head. "I kind of hated to do it, to -- maybe because Alex Scully has the same last name as . . . well, *Scully*." Skinner grinned at him. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Besides," he said, taking a long, invigorating swallow of coffee, "I didn't notice that your sensibilities stopped you from aiming right at his *head*." Mulder grinned back over his iced tea. "Well, as you said. . . . " There was a rhythmic clacking of heels as Scully joined them. "Still discussing the fiasco?" she asked, sliding into the seat next to Mulder's. "Yup," he sighed sadly. She shook her head. "I told you, Mulder -- my lucky color in PaintBall is *blue*, NOT *red*." He stared at her. "Since when do you believe in 'lucky colors'?" "Since I passed my comps wearing a pair of blue socks." She paused. Of course, in med school I wore stockings. . . . " "So, what did wear that was blue for your boards?" She merely grinned wickedly. "Oh. . . ." Part Four, anyone? J Juliett@mail.aol.com Dragon posse, Lone Gunwoman #7, Eden Agent, WWtBJLSWWGU, TFOSG charter celebrant, BBTG, SSKS co-founder =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: REPOST: PAINT-BALLS 4/? Date: 30 Sep 1995 23:22:55 GMT Originally posted under the title of "PAINT-BALLS cont...." ************************************************************************ Hello everyone! Kath's introduced me to this newsgroup, and I'm hooked. She's got me writing this instead of studying for exams (curses, curses, Kath!), so if it's bad, blame her not me! :) 3.13 pm J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washingron DC. Scully was startled out of an hilarious report on an alleged "alien autopsy" by the thud of a very thick, very dogeared folder being dropped on her desk. She looked up to find Mulder, pale and shaken, standing before her. "What the hell's going on here, Scully?" She opened the folder, which was just as grotty inside, and littered with the remains of various foods eaten by various readers. "A *sunflower seed*?" She waved the half-eaten seed accusingly in his face. "Late night. No, read it." She scanned the contents. "*Alien DNA in paintballs? How much time have you been spending with the Lone Gunmen lately, Mulder?" She paused. "And these same allegedly contaminated paintballs are causing the deaths of every person they're shot at?" "Only red ones. Looks like blue really is your lucky colour, Scully." ************************************************************************ OK, Kath, your turn! Can I go and study now? hehehe. Oh, and thanks everyone, for all the entertainment this year. You're all fabulous writers. =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-ball story and disclaimer! Date: 27 Sep 1995 12:44:31 GMT O.K here's part 5! And a defient disclaimer that i am the cause of Alex 'taking time out' from her studies! LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE! Nyah, Nyah, Nyah! Part 5 Scully stopped staring at Mulder and began to read the file in earnest. Mulder was correct to have brought this to her attention. It looked as though this virus was the same, or at least very similar to, the one that had almost caused Mulder's death just a few months ago. But it WAS different. Apparently it was no longer airborne, it required the victim to be touched on the skin by the contaminated paintballs. Perhaps it even got in through clothing...... WAIT A MINUTE! "Mulder!" She dropped her glasses on her desk. "What about the paintballs we were using...." "I checked." He looked grim. "Agents Alex Scully, Bronwyn Cole, and Fiona Rose were reported missing only 6 hours ago. It appears that they were on their way back to their division in Violent Crimes from the games and just never showed up." "Well." Scully was desperately trying to hide her growing fear, trying to find excuses. "You know how unreliable Cole and Rose are in handing in their field reports perhaps they are just in hiding until they have caught up to 1985?" "Not funny Scully." "A menage a trois?" Mulder did not even reply to that and instead made a face, spitting a half chewed sunflower seed at her. Silence. "You know what this means don't you Scully?" ************************************************************************ =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-balls (6/?) and Disclaimer on the Disclaimer! Date: 27 Sep 1995 13:16:22 GMT Kath, are you defaming my character already? And with a law student in the room. Dear oh dear oh dear! Usual disclaimers apply. Blah blah blah. ********************************************************************* "You know what this means, don't you, Scully?" "What this means," she said, "is that we have to get a red paintball down to the lab as soon as possible and run a chemical analysis so we can work out what's causing this. Does Skinner have any red balls left?" Mulder did a Mr. Spock imitation. "The flaws in your Catholic upbringing are showing, Scully. Perhaps we should go check?", he added larconically. Scully didn't even deign to comment on Mulder's raised eyebrows. "No, I meant -" "It just so happens that I have a few left in my drawer." He crossed to his desk and opened the - "*MULDER!*" "They're already wrapped in plastic, Scully. Why? You wouldn't like to see me disappear on you?" "Mulder, that's ridiculous. Paint-balls are material objects. How could they just make a person disappear?" "Relocate." "*What*" "It's possible that the paint-balls have a connection with a gap in the space-time continuum, causing the victim to relocate, contaminated with the alien DNA." "Mulder, you never did tell me. How much time *have* you been spending with the Lone Gunmen lately?" This was getting interesting. The alien autopsy could wait. She poured herself a cup of coffee. Caffeine always made the brain work faster, a thing she definitely needed when working with Mulder. "Think about it, Scully. 'Samantha' fell off a bridge, yet was found three miles _upstream_. You disappeared, and mysteriously appeared in the hospital, with no person able to account for how you got there, with an unknown retrovirus floating around your bloodstream." ********************************************************************** Over to you, Kath! This is getting strangerer and strangerer. =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 7/? Date: 27 Sep 1995 13:31:47 GMT Disclaimer as usual and the extra bit about Alex wasting her time.... After 12 hours straight of the case file, cold ulcer inducing coffee, and a pound of sun flower seeds Mulder found himself having a fierce tug of war with Scully. "NO! Scully! Give me the goddamn file!" "Mulder you have been here far too long. Now stop behaving like a two year old and GIVE ME THE FILE." "NO." Mulder gave the file a hard yank and suddenly Scully was sitting in his lap. There was a tinkling sound as if, like in those corny 1950's movies an important realisation had been made - or maybe it was just all those sun flower seed hulls falling from his desk onto the floor. Mulder didn't care. He gazed into her eyes and ........ "ARGGHHHHHH!!!!! Now Skinner isn't the only one with red balls." "Well don't get fresh." Scully strightened up her suit and skirt and huffed at Mulder. He noticed that her face seemed alittle flushed and struck up a mental score 1 wincing as he rose up to follow her. She had his file! "Mulder." She shoved the file into her desk drawer and turned the little key. "Just go home." *********** Mulder staggered into his apartment kicking aside old copies of the Lone Gunman and a making a trail thru the trecherous litter of Sunflower seed hulls to his couch. He sat heavily in it and pouted. Scully was such a .... a.... mother sometimes. He punched the cushion next to him. Oh well, it was late he might as well take a shower and get some sleep. he yawned. Maybe.... just maybe Scully was right about him needing a break. Maybe. Mulder ran a hand through his hair and went into his bed room...... WHAT WAS THAT?????? Mulder heard the rustle in his closet and grabbed his gun. Someone was hding in his closet! He moved carefully. Heard a few expletives whispered from inside his closet.... Grabbed the door handle.... Careful. CAreful. Getting a good grip. And YANK..... "What the...?" Mulder found himself staring at the befuddled face of Fiona Rose. She was sitting in his sock and underwear drawer. There was a pair of his best boxer shorts on her head and she was still covered in the red paint! He blinked. And she was gone.......... ************************************************************************ OK your turn..... =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-balls 8/? Date: 27 Sep 1995 14:06:02 GMT "Skinner isn't the only one with red balls"???!?!?!?! Kath! I didn't know you had it in you *grin*. At this stage, Kath and I think that we really should thank Sheryl Martin for starting this all off. Sorry for stealing your idea, Sheryl, but it's the September holidays and we're bored. :) I think we all know by now that it's Kath with the warped mind! (Kath vows to flame Alex in her next posting...) ********************************************************** Mulder, you seriously need to get yourself some sleep. "But you never sleep", a little voice in his head told him. "And look what's happening," he told himself. "Sleep, Mulder." He forgot about his shower. He forgot about undressing. He flopped onto his bed for the first time in months, and closed his eyes. His last conscious thought was of how amazed Scully would be if she knew where he was lying just then. He woke feeling cool and refreshed. Rolling over, he gazed at the red digital alarm clock blinking on the bedside table. Ten minutes' sleep. His longest sleep in weeks. Scully really would be proud of him. After one last luxuriant minute of burrowing his face in his feather pillow, he finally rolled over and prepared to extricate himself from the warm cozy burrow that was his bed. He opened his eyes And was startled to find the blonde, bedazzling form of Bronwyn Cole lying in the bed beside him. He gasped, swallowing frantically, and did made a desperate bid to exit the bed. "Agent Mulder? Fox Mulder? What - Where - A *bedroom*?!?!? How?!" Fox. Fox.... He was in a twelve years old and in a shaded room, doing his best to avoid the burly figure that was approaching towards him. "You lost your sister, Fox. We left you in charge, and you lost her. Do you realize what this has done to your mother? *Do you*?" Fox. Ever since then, he hadn't been able to stand his name. *Don't call me Fox!* He pushed her out of the bed savagely. His hands made contact with her, and then - She disappeared. This was getting strange. Very very strange. He must be snapping. Within moments he was crouched on the cold bathroom floor, rocking backwards and forwards, dialling Scully's number. ********************************************************** All right, there you are, oh Kath of the Warped Mind. Your turn! Actually, we've just realized that there are probably quite a few confused people out there. We began posting from Sheryl's strange little ditty titled "RE: Test - Please Ignore". There's another "re" to Sheryl's message, and that's the second part of the story. The third part is a "re" also, and from then on the story is titled "Paint-balls". I hope that makes it a little clearer. Incidentally, folks, please respond to this! We've been checking the newsgroups every five minutes to see if there are any responses, and nobody has responded yet. Thus, we're going to bed responseless, and therefore slightly downhearted. Kath has vowed to continue to post until stopped, and if she does then I will too! You Know You're An X Phile When: you post something and have to immediately check the newsgroups to find responses. Alex. *********************************************************************** "Knowledge only breeds complicity and guilt. Ignorance has a certain dignity about it." - Sir Humphrey Appleby, Yes Minister. =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 9/? Date: 27 Sep 1995 14:22:08 GMT *Kath pokes her tongue out at Alex* It is infAct Alex who is little warped and getting worse everyday - but let us not tell her that - after all did she not say that ignorance has a certain dignity to it. Oh dignified, DIGNIFIED ALex. Such regal dignity i have never seen in one so young. Mulder punched in the numbers to Scully's phone and waited on the cold tiled floor for her to pick up the phone as she always did. Even in the wee hours Scully always answered his phone even if just to talk. Come on.... Come one...... He waited, rocking back and forth, trying to get alittle warmer. He looked down at his hands, noticing that he should really clean up his nails - sun flower seeds were no good for the hands. Nad he saw it. RED PAINT. Oh no. He felt his heart redefine fibrillation and cursed the slowness of Scully..... BLINK! One moment he was sitting on his heels on the cold tile of his bathroom floor and the next he was falling onto his back on a soft warm thing! He froze. RELOCATION!!!!!!!!! He had relocated! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. The warm thing suddenly moved! A deep male grumble. A clack! Harsh white light in the gloom of the new place. He steeled himself - he was in some guy's (GUY'S) bed! Oh god the worst place he could have ended up at this point in time! he swallowed. Clutched his mobile and cautiously raised his head. "Agent Mulder? AGENT MULDER! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED!" Skinner roared. ************************************************************************ Back to dignified Alex. =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-Balls 10/? Date: 27 Sep 1995 14:56:10 GMT *Dignity*? The dignity only comes of ignorance, which comes of being an innocent, inexperienced first year, oh exalted Kath of the Fourth Year and the Procrastinated Honours Thesis!!!! However, if it's dignified and regal that I (we) am (are), then we shall assume our crown and our throne and our coronation robes, and say that we most certainly are not amused...NOT! :) Very, very funny Kath, though a bit contradictory to submit dignified and ignorant Alex to a Mulder in Skinner's bed. However, as it's innocent that she is, let's just pretend that Mulder called an urgent late night meeting! Ha! ********************************************************************* *Skinner*? Of all the places he could have landed, he had to land in Skinner's bed. Why couldn't he have landed in Pamela Anderson's bed instead? Cool, calm and collected, Mulder. Pretend that this is the sort of thing you do every day. Where were his old sunflower seeds when he needed them? "You're not going to say how nice of me it was to drop in like this? Sir, I'm shattered." "Just get the hell out of here before my wife gets back from the bathroom, Agent Mulder." Work, you stupid red paint. Do what you're supposed to do and *relocate me*. However, the red paint had obviously decided that it wasn't going to obey they orders of all and sundry, and Mulder stayed where he was, cold, uncomfortable, and red with embarrassment. He couldn't have been much redder than Skinner though, Mulder mused, but Skinner's redness could probably be attributed more to anger than embarrassment. "Sir, I really need to talk to you. Urgently." Skinner gave a moan of tired exasperation and reached over to turn on the bedside light. "Mulder, what's - Mulder, you're bleeding." He reached out a tentative finger towards the sticky redness. "No. No. Don't touch it." He gathered the soiled sheets around him protectively. "It's contaminated." Another weary sigh was emitted from Assistant Director Walter Skinner. It really was too late for Agent Mulder's paranoia, regardless of whether Mulder had miraculously appeared in his bed or not. "With what, Agent Mulder?" "Sir, we're not sure, but we think it might be alien DNA." Now he'd blown it. Mulder watched Skinner's face turn three shades redder, if that was possible. His eyes took on a steely glint. "Agent Mulder, this can wait until the morning. Now _get_out_of_my_bed_." Damn. He really had blown it. One last chance, Mulder, before you're booted out the door to find your way home in your pyjamas. Think, Mulder! "Mr Skinner, I think we may know what happened to Agents Cole, Rose and Scully. But first, we're going to have to strip this bed before your wife contaminates herself." ******************************************************************** There you are, oh cruel and sarcastic Kath. A cliff hanger that's not a cliff hanger! Your turn. And peoples, I know I sound as though I'm nagging, but please say something. There seems to be a great empty void out there. Is anyone alive out in the real world beyond our residential college? =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-Balls 10/? Date: 27 Sep 1995 14:56:10 GMT *Dignity*? The dignity only comes of ignorance, which comes of being an innocent, inexperienced first year, oh exalted Kath of the Fourth Year and the Procrastinated Honours Thesis!!!! However, if it's dignified and regal that I (we) am (are), then we shall assume our crown and our throne and our coronation robes, and say that we most certainly are not amused...NOT! :) Very, very funny Kath, though a bit contradictory to submit dignified and ignorant Alex to a Mulder in Skinner's bed. However, as it's innocent that she is, let's just pretend that Mulder called an urgent late night meeting! Ha! ********************************************************************* *Skinner*? Of all the places he could have landed, he had to land in Skinner's bed. Why couldn't he have landed in Pamela Anderson's bed instead? Cool, calm and collected, Mulder. Pretend that this is the sort of thing you do every day. Where were his old sunflower seeds when he needed them? "You're not going to say how nice of me it was to drop in like this? Sir, I'm shattered." "Just get the hell out of here before my wife gets back from the bathroom, Agent Mulder." Work, you stupid red paint. Do what you're supposed to do and *relocate me*. However, the red paint had obviously decided that it wasn't going to obey they orders of all and sundry, and Mulder stayed where he was, cold, uncomfortable, and red with embarrassment. He couldn't have been much redder than Skinner though, Mulder mused, but Skinner's redness could probably be attributed more to anger than embarrassment. "Sir, I really need to talk to you. Urgently." Skinner gave a moan of tired exasperation and reached over to turn on the bedside light. "Mulder, what's - Mulder, you're bleeding." He reached out a tentative finger towards the sticky redness. "No. No. Don't touch it." He gathered the soiled sheets around him protectively. "It's contaminated." Another weary sigh was emitted from Assistant Director Walter Skinner. It really was too late for Agent Mulder's paranoia, regardless of whether Mulder had miraculously appeared in his bed or not. "With what, Agent Mulder?" "Sir, we're not sure, but we think it might be alien DNA." Now he'd blown it. Mulder watched Skinner's face turn three shades redder, if that was possible. His eyes took on a steely glint. "Agent Mulder, this can wait until the morning. Now _get_out_of_my_bed_." Damn. He really had blown it. One last chance, Mulder, before you're booted out the door to find your way home in your pyjamas. Think, Mulder! "Mr Skinner, I think we may know what happened to Agents Cole, Rose and Scully. But first, we're going to have to strip this bed before your wife contaminates herself." ******************************************************************** There you are, oh cruel and sarcastic Kath. A cliff hanger that's not a cliff hanger! Your turn. And peoples, I know I sound as though I'm nagging, but please say something. There seems to be a great empty void out there. Is anyone alive out in the real world beyond our residential college? =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 11/? Date: 28 Sep 1995 11:26:03 GMT Disclaim, disclaim, disclaim. Despite Skinner's confusion and anger he complied with Mulder's insistance that he back out of the bed and leave the stripping of the contaminated bed sheets to the Agent. Mulder waited until the AD was clear before carefully tclimbing out of the bed with the bright pink sheets tangled all around him. Once he was clear Skinner started up again. "What the hell's going on Agent Mulder." He hissed. "Just what i said sir." Mulder sighed in irritation. "This paint that it on me contains some kind of retrovirus that...." And Mulder was gone. ****************** Scully reached fumbled for her cell phone on her bedside table knocking off a glass of water, her alarm clock (what did she need that for anyway? Mulder was more reliable than it - if ONLY he did not like 4am wake upcalls!),and a copy of KNOW YOUR CORPSE monthly before she grabbed it. Pressed the right button and jammed it to her ear - NOTHING. GGGGRRRRRRRRRRRR! Scully slammed it back onto the table and sat up. Woozy. Oooohhhh. She fell back onto the bed. Mulder had better have had the Mother of all Nightmares to excuse this! She vaguely recalled the time on her once working alarm clock - it was only around 4.30am. SCully slapped her forhead, sighed explosively and, more under control, reached for the cel phone again. Punched in Mulder's number and waited. waited. Waited. Waited a bit more. Then started to get worried. Mulder always answered her call before the fifth ring. Always. Unless he was in trouble. like he probably was now......... ************************************************************************ OK dignified Alex! Your go! =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-Balls 12/? Date: 28 Sep 1995 13:19:39 GMT "Dignified"??? Ha! Shiver, shiver, shiver. Being held hostage and forced to watch a terrifying ghost story doesn't do much for one's dignity, oh exalted Kath! Incidentally, peoples, we haven't seen the third series premiere over here yet, so if it turns out that Mulder doesn't survive that fire after all (heaven forbid!), and by rights this story shouldn't have been written, please don't flame us, and above all, please don't tell us what we should have said. Let us live in suspense just a few months longer :). *********************************************************************** 4.31 am Scully's apartment Washington, DC. Three rings. Four rings. Five. Goddam it, Mulder. Why do you always have to disappear like this? She slammed the phone into her briefcase, grabbed her coat, weapon and car keys, and stormed out of her apartment, banging the door viciously behind her. Driving through the pouring rain, her mind began to remember the last time Mulder had disappeared. He had been talking to her on his mobile, describing the small-pox vaccination scars on some suspicious looking corpses when the connection had suddenly died. She remembered the gut-wrenching anguish she had gone through as she had waited to find out if he was dead or alive. Of course, he had survived that time, but a person's luck had to break some time, and Mulder had certainly been pushing his lately. Stop it, Dana. Stop thinking like this. It's not helping. Just shut up and drive. Fifteen minutes later her car was screeching into the one vacant car park near Mulder's apartment. Sixteen minutes later she was outside his door. "Mulder, are you there? It's me." ************************************* 4.31 am Basement office J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington, D.C. Mulder blinked and found himself in the familiar setting of the X Files office. Weird. Definitely weird. He just couldn't seem to be able to get away from the place. Even paranormal relocation seemed to be able to get him back to his office. Scully was going to love this. Scully. The phone. He tried redialling her number, but the phone was dead. Hell. How on earth could he contact her? Email. Not as good as the telephone, but at least she would get his message when she checked her mail that morning. He logged on to his account, and within minutes he was typing. Mail> send To> dkscully@fbi.gov Subj> The best of all out of body experiences Enter your message below. Press CTRL/Z when complete, or CTRL/C to quit: Scully, I need your help. I need you get in contact with anybody who was at the games yesterday and find out who was hit with a red paint-ball. Most importantly, I need to know whether Special Agent Cole was one of the ones hit. Remember that theory on relocation? I think we may be onto something here, Scully. Woke up this morning to find Cole in my bed, and it wasn't *that* sort of a night. Pushed her away, came in contact with red paint, and found myself in Skinner's bed. (No, it really wasn't *that* type of night!). Don't know if I'm going to have relocated by the time you get in this morning, but just in case I'm still here, can you drop by my apartment and grab some clothes and some sunflower seeds? I'm stuck here in a paint-soiled toga made from a sheet I took from Skinner's bed. Be careful, Scully. I think we may be onto something bigger here than we bargained for. Message sent, he poured himself a coffee, and settled in for what was likely to be a long, uncomfortable night. *********************************************************************** "Mulder?" She grimaced and, pulling a spare set of keys from her pocket, unlocked the door to Mulder's apartment. "Mulder? Are you in here?" Gun at the ready, she did a quick tour of every room. So far, so good. She opened the door to the bedroom. The bed. The bed had been slept in. She walked closer to the bed, and then recoiled in shock. On the white linen sheet was a smear of deep scarlet. Damn it, Mulder. How? There was no sign of forced entry to the apartment. No broken glass. No obviously picked lock. No sign of a scuffle. Either this was a professional job, or - . She remembered another time Mulder had disappeared. The only key she had to his whereabouts was a vague email and an even vaguer covert contact of Mulder's. Email. She turned on his computer, and dialled the number of the FBI server. Mulder wouldn't mind. User Name: DKSCULLY Password: ******** Last interactive login on Thursday, 28-SEP-1995 22:29:07.17 You have 1 new mail message. $ MAIL You have 1 new message MAIL> READ Scully, by the time you get this I will be too far away for you to stop me, but where I'm going I can't allow you to follow. I won't allow you to jeapordize your life and your career for reasons purely personal to me. You were right, Scully. A line has to be drawn for you somewhere, and I'm drawing it for you here. I'll contact you when I can. There was one moment of pure diziness as she remembered the last time she had seen that message. But the computer said that it was a *new* message, she thought. She scrolled up to find the original date of posting. It was over twelve months ago. ************************************ There you are, Kath. Ever wonder what happened to all those story parts that didn't post the first time around? Now you know. Your turn! ************************************************************************ If the dead wanted to be contacted, they wouldn't have died. - Mrs Leslie, Chiller. =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 13/? Date: 29 Sep 1995 06:20:15 GMT Disclaim everything! READY? BRACE YOURSELVES............ Here comes part 13..... ARRGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! ************************************************************************ Scully shook her head to clear away the terrible chill she had had from reading that old posting and scrolled back up...... Wait a minute what was that? She noticed a small icon at the top right hand corner. One that she had not noticed before. Curious, she clicked the pointer on it. EMERGENCY MESSAGES FOR SCULLY: A/ Scully, by the time you read this I will be gone. To drown my sorrows at the local boozer on finding yet another pair of fine goldfish have bit the big fish flake and gone to join Bit, Bot, Jaws (there was a LONG list of deceased fish here that only Mulder's memory could produce) in fish heaven. That extra few days on the case that kept me from their bottle of fish flakes proved too much. Scully. Don't try to find me. I need to be alone, at least until the pet shop opens in the morning. B/ Scully gone to restock in coffee and sunflower seeds at the 7-11. If i am not back in 10 minutes the shop has been held up. HELP! C/ Scully. Bye. D/ Scully. I have been visited by grey's and I want you to know that I have not gonE with them willingly. The thought of rectal probes and impregnating aliens does NOT excite me despite what everyone says about that night in Denver. I was drunk. I did not know what i was saying. HELP! E/ Scully. HELP! F/ Scully. Gone to see SPECIES. I think I need help. Call Dr Verber. G/ Scully. Gone to see SPECIES again. Bypass Dr Verber. I need to be committed. PS Whilst I am gone please feed fish. ******************** Scully exited the list and glowered at the screen. That boy was in BIG canine excreta when she found him! After quickly scanning the real message she grabbed up some clothes and sunflower seeds and ran from the house. ******************* By the time Scully reached the basement office Mulder was gone. Relocated. Either that or he had finally flipped. Still she remembered that small red stain on his bed sheets. Perhaps his wild theory WAS true. *RING* SCully picked up the telephone. "Scully." She said. "AGent SCully," It was Skinner. "Is Agent Mulder there?" "Err... No sir..... He's just..... popped..... out for something." "I see." Skinner did not sound pleased. "Then come up to my office yourself Agent SCully, you have got some explaining to do." ****************** Skinner was not happy with Agent Scully's cluelessness, nor her attempts to cover up for Agent Mulder's bizarre behaviour. He was pacing around his desk to get closer to her, tower over her chair and get more intimidating when suddenly Agent Mulder was there. BLINK. And there he was. In a pink toga. Clutching his mobile. Standing in the large potted rubber plant in the corner. He looked stunned, then confused, saw Skinner and went red, then saw Scully and smiled. "Scully thank god." Mulder grinned stepping out of the potted plant and trailing dirt as he hurried over to her. Skinner glared at the man - "What the hell is going on Agent!" He roared. "Sir I can explain...." "Please do so Agent Mulder and try to stay around long enough this time!" "Well it's like this..." And he was gone. BLINK. He was back. BLINK. Under Skinner's desk. "As I was saying.." Came the muffled voice. BLINK. Standing at the office door. "Where....? Oh there you are sir..." BLINK. Looking a bit pale and squatting next to Scully's chair. "Er... Scully do you think you could please..." BLINK. Sitting on the conference table. "...Get some..." BLINK. Back in the potted plant and looking queesy and greener than the plant leaves. "....Drama..." BLINK. Momentarily standing on his head before crashing to the floor in a tangle of pink sheets. "....mine...." And he threw up on the floor. BLINK. He was gone. Skinner sighed. "Agent Scully. Please, just take the damned paint-ball to the labs and find out what in God's name is going on. You have full use of all FBI facilities until this case is solved. Let me know if you need more people." "Thank you sir." Scully said. ***************** Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Scully nor Skinner, nor Mulder for that matter, the rather icky pile of regurgitated sunflower seeds and coffee suddenly disappeared. Arriving, somewhat noticably, with a big wet splat in the lap of a certain former president of the United States who was entertaining a group of delegates from China at the time. This former President looked down at his lap, and then at the aged Chinese official next to him. The official looked at him and down at the mess. The former president frowned, considered all the possible actions he could take before simply nodding and saying in a polite tone of voice - "Well, I guess that's fair. However I would like to point out that this exchange of partially digested food stuffs is NOT an American custom. You know I thought I made that clear the first time, I had the flu and......." Needless to say the dinner party ended rather early. ************************************************************************ OK ALEX - your turn! He he he. It can only get batter from here on! =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-Balls 14/? Date: 29 Sep 1995 09:04:50 GMT "It can only get *batter* from here on"??? What's this, Kath? Have you been listening to too many Alexander Downer speeches or something? Hehehehehe. (Alex snickers at gratuitous Australian joke.) *********************************************************************** Skinner had instructed her to submit those paint-balls to every test she knew of. She could have full use of all the FBI facilities until the case was solved. Terrific, Skinner. Thanks. Sometimes, Scully mused, FBI Assistant Directors showed an uncanny ability for losing contact with reality. Now, if he had volunteered to get all the paperwork out of the way so that she could actually get clearance into the labs, and have all tests approved by the laboratory budgeting staff, that really would have been something. Let's see. Cost analysis forms to be filled out in triplicate. Submission of FBI clearance to laboratory staff four hours in advance of anticipated use of laboratory. Request for the services of laboratory technicians. Request for permission to use the laboratory outside normal office hours. Four hours and sixteen cups of coffee later, she was finally ready to proceed to the labs. Grabbing her lab-coat and keys, she was just about to head out the door when the phone rang. She sighed in exasperation. What now? "Scully." "Agent Scully, I want to see you in my office immediately." "Yes, Sir. But what -" She was about to say more, but he hung up before she even had the chance to ask what she should do about the laboratory clearance she had just worked for four hours to obtain. He just better not be sending her on another marathon paperwork spree. She marched up the stairs, and brushed past the personal secretary's desk without so much as a glance. She knocked at his door. "Come in." Skinner looked pale and grim. The other man in the office had obviously made an effort to look inconspicuous that morning. Black suit. Grey tie. Shiny black shoes. In fact, the closer Scully looked the harder it was to find one characteristic that could make him stand out in a sea of faces. Not a freckle or a mole to be seen. Not a glimmer of life in his cement-grey eyes. It was as if he had finally suffered the effects of watching too many old gangster movies, and had become to look and dress exactly like one of the characters. Scully could just imagine him stalking up behind and garroting a mafia Don. That Skinner would associate with such people came to no surprise to her, though. You couldn't expect much associate-wise of anyone who had anything to do with Cancer Man. "Agent Scully, this is Agent Jason Hellwege of the CIA." "Agent Scully". He offered a pale, clammy hand. Oh God. She had to *touch* him. His hands were sweaty, but beneath the surface moisture there was a strange quality to the skin that she had previously only noticed when performing autopsies. Scully didn't relish the feeling of cold, clammy skin at the best of times. That was one of the advantages of wearing surgical gloves during autopsies. To have to force herself to touch such skin on a living person wasn't a particularly pleasant experience. "Agent Hellwege." Extricating her palm from his firm, relentless grip she turned towards the A.D. "Sir, what is this?" Hellwege answered for Skinner. "My department is concerned with...external affairs, Agent Scully. Your partner's been causing us a fair bit of trouble over the last twelve hours." He gestured towards a rather large mound of newspapers on Skinner's desk. The headline of the uppermost newspaper caught her eye. *AMERICAN FBI AGENT FOUND IN RESTRICTED IRANIAN MILITARY BASE - ARRESTED WITHOUT TRIAL*" ********************************************************************** There you are, oh exalted Kath of the warped mind (induced by fried rice of dubious quality, perhaps?). Your turn! Apologies for the strange format of my last two posts. I don't know what went wrong with the computer there. Alex. =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 15/? Date: 30 Sep 1995 06:19:44 GMT DISCLAIM EVERYTHING AGAIN! And a rather large raspberry to Alex the DIGNIFIED! Scully stared at the headline and felt faint. So this thing was working on a global scale! Oh no, poor Mulder! She looked back up at Skinner, choosing to ignore the CIA agent for the moment. "Sir, this changes nothing. The only way we can stop this thing is to find out what it is. The first step toward finding a solution is always defining the problem!" "Unless you just get lucky!" A familiar voice piped up from under Skinner's desk. "Mulder." Scully was crouched down in a second trying to get a glimpse of him, assess the damage of being in an Iranian jail. He waved for her to step back and when he was sure she was safe he pulled himself out. Scully scanned for injury but could find nothing new except a set of handcuffs around his wrists. He clanked them miserably. "Dont' happen to have your skeleton keys on you do you Scully?" Whilst she rumaged through her coat pockets the CIA agent and SKinner were left to gape at them both. Mulder turned to Skinner - "Sir, I am afraid that a few of the Iranian police department's finest touched me, as well as a a small goat and a screw driver. I don't know if this virus affects inanimate objects but I thought I should warn you." "Mulder..." Skinner was begining to feel near the end of his tether. Disappearing, reappearing agents were bad enough, now there could be a teleporting Iranian goat and several Iranian policmen - not to mention a screwdriver...... Good god...... He could not think what to say. The CIA agent beside him looked like he had forgotten what to use his brain for let alone knew what to say with it and instead just gaped at Mulder. "MAaaaaaa MMMMAAAAA!" "What the...!" Skinner recoiled from the barnyard noise as if it were the hiss of a snake as a scrawny nanny goat suddenly appeared on his desk. Mulder smiled at the goat and said hello. It looked at him before blkinking out of existance again. "Right!" Skinner pulled his thoughts together as Scully tossed Mulder the keys and he went to work. "This has got to stop before you , or any of the other affected people and.... goats..... infect anyone else. I am not going to be responisble for one of my agent infecting an elephant or anything else large and easily startled." He turned to Hellwege. "Get out!" he barked. The CIA agent jerked as if he had been hit, looked startled, then angry. "Like hell i will!" he responded. "My superiors have ordered me to stay on this case..." "Agent Hellwege if you do not leave my office, and this building, AND this case immediately I will order Agent Mulder to touch you!" BLINK! That darned goat was back andtook a rather large chunk of rubber plant leaf with it before disappearing again. Skinner wanted to howl. how dare anything damage his rubber plant!!!!! #%@^#^$&^@#%*!%$# he mentally cursed. Agent Hellwege took one look at Skinner's red face and left. Mulder was rubbing his wrists after removing the cuffs and stowing them and the keys in knots made in his pink sheets. He did not look like he was going to disappear again so Skinner ordered them both to get down to the labs and get to work on this problem. And to get his wife's best sheets back to him as soon as possible! Preferably dry cleaned and folded nicely. ***************** Mulder made it down to the lab without disappearing himself or anyone else which was a relief. Once there Scully passed him a box of Dramamine and a two pound bag o sunflower seeds and told him to sit on that table, that one with the plastic covers and not to move. "Mulder," Scully said from her bench where she was preparing an OH-MY-GOD sized hypodermic. "what side affects have you noticed from the paint, besides the obvious material instability?" He considered for a moment before deciding it would be best just to tell the truth. "Well," He said as he crunched into a particularly juicy looking seed. "I have been getting a little nauseous, but i guess that's just because i get teleport sickness (Scully raised her eyeborw at that), and....." he blushed. "And what? " Scully prompted as Mudler began to squirm in embaressment on the table. "It's kinda embaressing Scully?" "Worse than that time in Denver?" "Who told you about that? Look Scully it wasn't me in that photo and...." "Mulder!" A warning tone. "O.K." He looked down at his hands. "It IS worse than Denver. You see..." ************************************************************************ O.K Alex what is so embaressing? He he what a set up he he. Evil cackling from Kath..... =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-Balls 16/? Date: 30 Sep 1995 09:44:45 GMT It seems to me that Kath really is trying to break me of my dignity. Alex sticks her face in a paper bag to hide her blushing, and reaches over Kath's keyboard to steal her week's supply of bananas. Ha! (If Kath's predictable, she'll say that the paper bag is a definite improvement, but we all know Kath has a warped mind, so she probably won't.) Grimaces and stink-bombs to Kath for throwing me a nasty ending like Denver. Usual disclaimers. The names of Bronwyn Cole, Fiona Rose and Jason Hellwege have been illegally borrowed, and as of tonight, we have twenty-four hours to live until they come back to college and check the newsgroups :). ************************************************************************ "Look, Mulder, I don't want to hear this." "Well, you did ask." "I *didn't*. It was a rhetorical question." My, it was good to be back to playing mind-games with Mulder again. It was like old times, before they had started being stalked by government hit-men. "It didn't sound too rhetorical to me. What happened? You chickened out or somethi-". Scully had a very disturbing look on her face. Something between "you have a fatal disease, Mulder", and "your fly is undone, Mulder". Worse still, it could be "I've been reading my latest medical journal, and it says an Australian medical researcher has discovered a link between sunflower seeds and incontinence". "What is it, Scully?" "A problem, Mulder. How am I going to bleed you without infecting myself?" "Get that look off your face, Scully. There is no way that I'm going to bleed myself with *that* thing." "_Mulder_." "*Scully*." At that moment, a decidedly large goat with a decidedly bloated stomach materialized in the lab. It knocked over rack filled with test tubes, and a bottle of mercury, and, as if it hadn't caused enough havoc, finally stood by Scully's side, contentedly brunching on her lab coat. She shot Mulder an accusing glance. "You did that on purpose." "I did not. Besides, Scully, I think you were infected already." She was pointedly ignoring him. He watched in horror as she threw away the ohmygod sized hyperdermic and changed it for an ohellohell sized one. The needle alone looked big enough to mend holes in truck tyres. "Seriously, Scully." The look she gave him as she swabbed down his arm with alcohol was of pure sadism. "Don't you remember what happened yesterday? The way you suddenly materialized in my lap? You can't put that down to my magnetic personality." There was silence as Mulder watched the needle s l o w l y glide beneath his skin. There was a short, sharp pain as it pierced his vein, and then the blood started to flow. And continued to flow. She was taking so much that she hadn't even been able to take it directly through the test tube. It went through a little plastic pipe instead, thick and red, all the way up to the hyperdermic. Mulder felt slightly dizzy. How could it be possible to lose that much blood and still be conscious? "Mulder, that's ridiculous. I haven't had any contact with an infected person." Scully was back in her Doctor's Persona, efficiently disposing of the needle in the biohazards container. Brisk, business-like, and impersonal. "No, Scully, but when you were...returned...you had the waste products of a genetic experiment circulating in your blood. What if you had been the guinea-pig for the very same contagion that we're witnessing today?" Good one, Mulder, he said to himself, noticing how pale she had suddenly turned. Brilliant. "Scully -" But she had escaped his gaze. She was leaning on the window-sill now, intent on something outside his vision. "Mulder, come and look at this" she said in a choked voice. He followed her to the window and gazed out in stunned disbelief. Instead of the familiar view of the skyline of Washington DC, there was desert. Desert as far as the eye could see. ************************************************************************ Ha! That's for Denver, Kath. Alex (AKA Princess Leah the Dignified [but increasingly less so thanks to Kath's degenerate influence] and Paranoid Banana Queen) (sick college, joke, folks. Pity us.) =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 17/? Date: 1 Oct 1995 06:16:08 GMT Alex has given me a rotten ending but i will not be defeated! The Banana queen has no idea what (Alex has just massacred a fine ABBA song - Dancing Queen NOT Banana Queen! Sheesh!) a devious mind she is up against. Mulder joined Scully at the window and did not fight the urge to drop his jaw. My God. The entire building had relocated! That meant that this virus COULD infect inanimate objects - like the screw driver! he thought about this as he gazed out over the very non DC landscape - and noticed for the first time that it was pink! A rather vivid shade of neon pink that made his eyeballs ache in their sockets. EEEWWWWW!! "My god Mulder where are we?" "How the hell should I know?" He glanced down at his partner whose grey green face was clashing with the pink decor of the dessert. "But i think that we are in VERY big trouble." "No shit Sherlock." Scully jerked her gaze away from the awful colour and looked back up at him. "That means that we are all infected with this stuff." "MAAAAAMAMAMAMMA. MA!" Scully booted the goat out of her way as she went back to her bench. The goat looked very hurt. It gave a feeble mmaaaaa. Mulder gave it a pat before going afer SCully. The comforted goat followed, browsing contentedly, and unnoticed, on Mulder's bed sheets. BLINK. Clatter. The screwdriver appeared and dropped in a far corner. They all ignored it. ******************** Mulder was dreaming. In his dream he was sitting on his couch at home with a large sentient Sunflower seed watching a Sweedish movie and dinking Ice tea. It was all going very well. Until he got a bit peckish and took a huge involuntary bite of his couch-mate. He woke up with a horrified screech. Wobbled and fell off the bench. "Mulder!" Scully looked up and him in concern. "Are you alright?" "Fine." He said weakly from the floor. "where's the goat?" "Oh it disappeared about a minute ago." "How long have I been out?" "About 11 minutes." Scully sounded impressed and Mudler could not help being alittle smug about that too. He was getting better. Hell, soon he would probably just sleep away a whole 15 minutes of his life and miss everything! Sheesh. He did NOT need to turn into a sleepaholic at this stage in his career. "Found anything?" He asked climbing to his feet. He noticedthat Scully was using a plastic enclosed lab space, her gloved hands thrust through tow openings in the plastic cover. She had tubes and plates everywhere. "No." She admitted. "What we really need is an electron microscope." "Perhaps Skinner is here and we can requisition one." "From where?" "You have a point." he rubbed his bruised butt as he walked back to the window. The dessert was still there. Still looking very pink. Very hot looking. he suddenly came to a snap descision. "I'm going out for a looksee." "What? Mulder what happens if you or we disappear whilst you are out there." "I dn't think we will Scully. I think we are finally where we are supposed to be." "What?" "Think about it Scully. What if this alien DNA is NOT just a random teleporter. What if it isdesigned to teleport the individual or object infected to a predetermined place. A biological teleportation device! If you've noticed - I haven't made any unexpected exits in the last few hours." "Hmmm. Well if that is true then why is it so lousy at getting us here in one go!" "Perhaps it is designed for Alien bodies, not human ones." "Perhaps. Then where are we?" "I don't know? That's where the theory starts to get alittle vague. I'll be back in an hour." He stated, re ajusting his bed sheets and noting with a grimace the soggy goat nibbled holes. "You better be." ************************************************************************ OK Alex the dignified banana queen. Get them out of that! HA! HA! H =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 18/? Date: 2 Oct 1995 04:37:23 GMT Usual disclaimers.... ************************************************************************ 5.15 pm A bar in Washington DC If anybody had bappened to walk into Harry's Bar and Grill at 5.15 pm that Friday afternoon, it would have been to find a very disgruntled, very exhausted, non-descript-looking man drowning his sorrows in an early beer. If they had remarkable insight, they may have noticed the dark smudges under his eyes, but it was only a select few who would have known the cause of his troubles. The Players had eyes everywhere, and once you were in the game, there was no real place you could hide your innermost troubles. Players usually knew the identities of many of their subordinates, and it was for that reason that Agent Jason Hellwege of the CIA had taken himself to this particular bar on this particular Friday afternoon. Harry was a minor player himself, mainly involved in keeping an eye out for talk of treason and insurrection amongst the winos of Washington DC. Winos were notorious for knowing the scandals of a political hotspot like Washington, and the Players knew it. Jason also knew that Harry had a knack of reading the emotional state of his superiors. Friday afternoon wasn't the greatest time to tell one's boss that one had almost forcibly been thrown out of the FBI building where one was supposed to be investigating a particularly sensitive case. It'd be best to know how much...strife he was likely to be in over this before he went and blurted the whole story out to his superiors. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't at work that day, so after a beer, or a dose of Dutch Courage as it was so appropriately nicknamed, he left the bar for his unwanted and most certainly unwelcome task. Darkness still came early in September, and there was an eerie feeling to the streets. He hailed a cab as quickly as he could, and before too long he was in the vicinity of the CIA headquarters. He got out three blocks early (it wouldn't do to blow his cover unnecessarily), and walked the rest of the way to the building. The night was dark, and deceptively peaceful. Agent Hellwege knew that, before too long, the CIA equivalent of a severe dressing-down would be echoing down the corridors of that esteemed establishment. The anticipation of that dressing-down wasn't something he particularly relished. ************************************************************************ "You were *thrown out*. What the hell do you mean you were thrown out?!" Michael Sarkar rose in his chair, knuckles clenched threateningly. "I don't know what we're going to do with you. We can send you to Israel and Iraq no problem, but we send you down the road to FBI headquarters, and -" "I'm sorry. I'll fix it." "You'd better fix it, Hellwege. You'd better go right back there and rectify the situation immediately, or I'll want to know the reason why. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes, Sir." "Good. Now get out." Jason got a look of extreme sympathy from Sarkar's personal assistant as he left Michael's office. His eyesight, however, were too hazy to notice it. There seemed to be the most peculiar trembling in his knees, and his innards felt as though they had been wrenched through a parallel universe and back. He leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes until the diziness passed. It was for that reason that five minutes later, he heared Michael's outraged voice bellowing to his assistant. "Marion, get in here now!" In the executive office, Michael Sarkar was gazing, amazed, out the large plate-glass window beside his desk. Instead of the familiar view of the Washington skyline lit with the lights of a thousand houses, and the even more familiar elm branch brushing against his window there was darkness. Complete darkness. They stared out the window for five long minutes. The night was dark and still. And nothing moved. ************************************************************************ There you are, oh Kathling. Your turn! Alex. =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 19/? Date: 3 Oct 1995 08:23:13 GMT Disclaim everything. Meanwhile back at the pink desert...... Mulder stepped out of the FBI building and into the soft glow of the bublegum pink desert. It was warm, not hot like he expected, and the ground felt like gravel under his bare feet. There was no Sun that he could see, nothing marred the perfect orange sky. He looked about. Looked back at the blunt very non pink Earthly building and readjusted his sheets. Right, he thought, I will just walk out from here in a straight line. that way i can't get lost. Beneath the surface of his mind his subconcious was pretty pleased with this plan because it entailed staying out of Scully's bad books. Mulder walked for a long time, noting that the ground remained falt and even, no hills, no rises, no dips, just flat. He noted the occasional spanner, motorbike, rubber duck, infalatable sheep (!) as he walked, a few buildings in the distance and not much else. It was deathly quiet. Quiet, no smells, nothing alien to look at and that pink was beginning to get on his nerves. They way it clashed horribly with the orange sky made his limited fashion sense shudder. "BUGGER!" he declared his disappointment to a teddy bear that suddenly appeared next to him and crashed onto the gravel on his butt. No aliens. nothing even remotely alien if you discounted the scenery, which he was feeling very inclined to do at the moment. It was a terrible anticlimax. Mulder sat on the ground for a very long time quite unaware what an odd sight he made. he had not shaved in days, he was still swathed in a toga of pink goat gobbled bed sheets with a pair of handcuffs and a skeleton key knotted in them, bare feet and a teddy bear now siting in his lap. If he had been in LA he may not have raised an eyebrow but here he looked quite strange. Mudler scratched his stubble and pounted over the lack of aliens. On a whim he lay back on the ground, and using the ratty teddy bear as a pillow decided to lie arond this boring place for a while whilst he tried to figure out what was going on. ***************** Mulder was dreaming. He twisted in his sleep. It was always the same, everything began feeling fine. He was on the couch again with the giant 6 feet tall, sentient, sunfower seed, drinking ice tea and watching pornos. He moaned in his sleep. The nightmares always started the same way and now the horrible creeping dejavu was beginning to gain on him. Not again. He started to feel hungry. just peckish. he looked around his apartment. Hungry. There was no food. he looked at his large seedy friend and suddenly was hit with the most horrible thought. "AAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!" Mulder screamed in his sleep with no one to hear him, nor wake him up. And it was happening again! NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! he was moving closer and closer to the seed. he was going to take a bite. He fought the need for seed to no avail and woke with a shriek to find that he had bitten the belly out of poor Teddy. He spat the fluff out of his mouth and was totally sickened. Good thing Scully had not been there. EEEEWWWWW! Tenderly he gathered what was left of poor teddy and made a kind of cradle in his sheets, about chest height. Patted teddy's head and told it that he had a friend who was a doctor. Teddy did not look at all impressed. Mulder sighed and started to walk back to Scully and the misplaced FBI head-quaters. He began trudging back over the flat pink gravel staring moodily at his feet that were now covered in a fine pink dust when BANG! he was suddenly flat on his back. What the...??? He sat up with a start, what had he run into! He looked up and screamed a high E. It was the stuff of nightmares! It was THE SEED! ************************************************************************ OK Alex. Your turn. HAR HAR HAR. I feel the NEED FOR SEED! HA! Kath =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 20/? Date: 3 Oct 1995 21:26:21 GMT Decisions, decisions, decisions. To comply with Kath's need for seed, or to do the typical Alyxian thing and just ignore it? Aaaaaaah...you can't ignore tradition! Sorry Kath! :) Usual disclaimers ************************************************************************ 6.35 pm, Friday CIA Headquarters Somewhere. Blackout, Michael kept muttering to himself, conveniently ignoring for the moment the complete absence of elm trees and other things integral to the view from his office. It had to be a blackout. In less than three strides he had reached his desk and was dialling the number of the Washington Energy Council. The phone was dead. Sarkar was at a loss. The CIA, out of necessity, was autonomous in the way of power and water. It would never do for such an important government department to be vulnerable to the loss of resources from the outside. As well as a number of tanks filled with rainwater, and their own generator, the CIA had numerous little nooks and crannies stocked with enough provisions to ensure the survival of agency members through a six-month seige. How then could the phone be dead? Telephone lines always ran on a different power system. Their breakdown couldn't be explained by a normal blackout. It was as if some ... _person_ had conspired to burrow beneath the building and saw through every telephone line running in to and out of the building. Michael suppressed that thought. The witch-hunts could wait. First he had to find an explanation for his missing elm tree. "Marion? Can you get some CB radios in here?" Ten minutes later the CBs had been located, black and dusty from lack of use, but still functional. Sarkar set the channel to the bandwidth usually used by government agencies in small-scale emergencies. "This is Agent Michael Sarkar of the CIA. Can anybody hear me?" ************************************************************************ The messages radiated out from the building, almost incomprehensibly fast. They travelled through miles and miles of darkness, headed for the unknown. Meanwhile, in another part of the universe, a beer glass suddenly appeared out of the darkness. It hurtled around for a while, unfettered by such troublesome things as strong gravitational pulls, before ploughing into the very new, very shiny exterior of a United States Security intelligence satellite. ************************************************************************ There you are, oh esteemed Kath. Sorry that this was such a short one. Alex the Dignified and Terribly Tired Banana Queen. =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 21/? Date: 5 Oct 1995 13:21:22 GMT It's me again! I have had a few positive replies to my feeler about continuing Paint-balls and so i will... Nyah! Oh, Alex and i DO have a loose idea as to where this story is going so hang in there people. Oh before i forget i disclaim everything including myself - i was totally the idea of my parents and must disclaim all my silliness therefore as being all their fault! Well ............................ I think that i feel the NEED FOR SEED! Let's get started on the next enthralling totally realistic chapter! Mulder sat on his butt stunned by the appearence of the seed. For a long time noone moved. The seed sat there, Mulder sat there and Teddy still did not look at all impressed with anything. After a few more minutes during which a large tub of icecream, 2 dogs and a rather battered looking bicycle popped into existance around them the Seed and Mulder faced each other off across the short stretch of rather pink alien dessert gravel. Sat there. Sat a bit more. Mulder's butt started to hurt. His eyes were watering because he had forgotten to blink and still the Seed did nothing. "Errr." Mulder tried sitting up into a better position and extended a pink dusted hand. "Errr. Hello.... There.... I mean.... I ... Err." He stuttered hopelessly. The Seed did not move and Mulder began to get nervous. He did NOT want that nightmare that had been plaguing him for over twenty years to come true; I mean here was a new life form and it was not going to be at all the first encounter that was spoken of in Startrek if it did. Some how the idea of Captain Kirk extending the hand of friendship, waiting until the alien did so also and then biting it off at the elbow did not really..... And the Seed moved. Mulder froze. It rolled abit. Rocked and then stopped. Then suddenly Mulder felt a sensation inside his mind. Hunger. OH NO! He scrabbled away alittle horrified that he should be gastronomically lusting after this being. He locked his muscles down until he was sure he could not make any sudden animalistic lunges at the Seed. He would not be responsible for the first interstellar diplomatic incident. 'HELLO' The voice was a whipser, like wind thru leaves. Mulder stared around himself expecting to see another, maybe distant, person calling to him. Instead he saw only the melting icecream and the bicycle. The dogs had cleared off. 'Hello' MY GOD IT"S THE SEED! Mulder thought. 'Hello Fox' Mulder bit down the urge to beat the Seed to a seedy pulp for using his first name and instead said something really dumb - "You know my name?" He still felt increadibly seed hungry and was having a hard time not drooling. 'Know all about Fox' "Errr It's Mulder actually. How are you speaking to me?" 'Fox must listen' "To what?" He was curious and that was helping the need for seed but still he had to keep himself tightly under control. 'Listen' ******************** Scully looked up from her work startled as Mulder came crashing thru the door, he as covered in pink dust and there was a curious lump at about chest height in his sheets. He was panting like a steam engine. "SCULLY!" He lunged at her and grabbed her by the arms. "Scully I..." And he started to tell her, at about twice the speed that a human ear can take. "Mulder. MULDER!" She shook him. "STOP! Just stop. Calm down, now tell me what's going on?" "I met a Seed!" "You what?!" Scully blinked and felt the last of her ability to be in the least surprised by anything Mulder said drain into a crack in the floor. She did not know whether to laugh hysterically or simply sedate him - he had obviously cracked. "You met a Sunflower seed?" "Mmm." He nodded his head vigorously. A brilliant smile suddenly appeared on his face, one that she had rarely seen before. "And it explained everything to me Scully. I know what's going on." "It did." Scully humoured him whilst pushing him back toward the bench. Trying to figure out how to make him stay whilst she got the sedative. "And waht did it say?" "Oh, everything Scully." He shook his head at the emensity of it, still beaming happily. "It told me that it has been trying to contact me for years but the problem was that a side effedct of it's communication attempts causes me to get seed cravings. So every time it said hello I would just eat seeds. And my nightmares Scully. It explained them all." Scully pushed him back onto the bench and listened attentitively whilst she quickly grabbed up something to cure the hysteria. At least for a while. It looked like this virus also had mind altering qualities. She listened to him babble about the Seed and the meaning of his life, how the seed wanted his help to stop an alien invasion of Earth and how it was going to bring Sam back to him. Mulder did not see the needle until to late. He did not protest however, and a serene expression suddenly came over his face - "Scully i think i may have found..." He blinked sleepily and Scully smiled indugently at him. "Oh and Scully." He dragged his eyes open one last time and pointed to the bulge over his chest. "Could you fix teddy please?" ************************************************************************ Gasp! What will happen next? Stay tuned.... Kath =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 22/? Date: 7 Oct 1995 00:57:54 GMT Chuckle chuckle, chortle chortle. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. I think I might leave the humour to Kath! Thanks for the mail about Paint-Balls, everyone. I'm sorry about all the posting problems. The first twenty parts can now be found at Vincent's archive. Alex. ************************************************************************ Saturday, 10.15 am. "Sir, we have a problem." The middle-aged private secretary burst into the office of the President of the United States without even bothering to knock first. "Lawrence, don't you know how to knock yet?" "I'm sorry, sir, but this really is an emergency. Coming to see you is one of our chiefs of security. He'll be here any moment." "But I have a press conference starting in an hour, and a meeting-" "I've cancelled the meeting, Mr Ellis." At that moment one very immaculate darkly suited being stepped through the door. "Mr Ellis? I'm Matthew Erikson. Head of...well, our bureau deals with both internal and external affairs." The President took the proffered hand, and while shaking it, pondered on the nature of these dark suited people. Who were they? And why was it that they never revealed the name of their bureaus. Furthermore, why was it that despite his position as head of the executive branch of government, he had never managed to discover the names and locations of these supposed "bureaus"? In the hour long meeting that followed, President Ellis was exposed to a number of facts that would change his world outlook forever. Aliens aiding the American military in the development of more advanced weapons. Experimentation taking place in Washington DC to analyse the effects of alien viruses on humans. How all this had taken place in exchange for the supply of several human subjects for alien experiments, and that this had been going on, undetected by the mainstream media, for almost fifty years. It was mind-boggling. "But how...Surely the CIA and the FBI must have picked up on this?" "With all due respect, Sir, the CIA and the FBI are bodies that exist merely to ensure public peace of mind. Most CIA and FBI agents spend their entire lives digging for some really sensitive information, and they never find it. There are a few renegade agents, but we have ways of...dealing with such people. For the most part, the CIA and FBI are fairly ineffectual. It's the more...secretive...agencies like mine that have the most effect. But we're getting off the track. The CIA and the FBI is the main cause of our problem today. To be perfectly frank, they've disappeared." President Ellis choked on his coffee. "What do you mean, they've *disappeared*?" Governmental agencies don't just fall off the face of the earth, Mr. Erikson. The structure of both agencies is designed to withstand declines into near anarchy. There's no way they both would have disintegrated in the few hours between last night and this morning. What're you telling me? That the buildings and everybody in them have just vanished into thin air?" "Actually, Mr. Ellis, that's exactly what I'm telling you. There seem to be some side effects of these diseases that we weren't aware of, and it's causing many, many people and objects to mysteriously disappear. We're talking about a major security crisis here. What we need to work out now is how to control it." ************************************************************************ Meanwhile, in an isolated part of a parallel universe... Scully sat with teddy nestled safely in her arms. There was something oddly comforting about holding a battered teddy that your partner has half-eaten when you were stranded in a strange new world. There was something strangely soothing too about the pinkness of the desert. It was very much like lying on a larger version of the pink baby blanket she had had as a child. Soft, and warm, and comforting. She felt her eyelids begin to droop. Just for a few minutes... She was stunned out of semi-consciousness by the appearance of six very large, very menacing sunflower seeds. "Come," they said, and with great violence she was forced to her feet. One arm around Mulder, and floundering in the deep and slippery sand, they headed for the horizon, leaving the J. Edgar Hoover building, an ingongruous patch of grey in a pink desert, far behind them. ************************************************************************ There you are, oh exalted Kath. Your turn. I don't like this one either! Alex. =========================================================================== From: kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-balls 23/? Date: 13 Oct 1995 02:59:14 GMT Whooppeeeee! We're baaaAAAaacckkkk! And feeling the need for SEEDS!!!!!!!! Seed was having a bad day. First it failed to prevent the beginning of the take over of Earth, then it overslept and missed the garbage truck, and NOW, now it got found out and captured. It had just gotten in contact with that rather peckish looking human - Fox, (So strange how Seed got hungry for alittle human whenever it tried communicating with them, and strange how humans got gastronomically turned-on in the same way.) when it was surpized by a squad of brown shells and squad rolled into a dark, dank cell to await it's fate. Seed pondered this whilst it was being held in special custody pending it's mock trial and immenent deshelling. It lay on it's side in the dark and pondered it's failures with a deep misery that even overcame the thought of it's inevitable execution. Deshelling. The seed shuddered at the thought. it had heard of such methods of execution and had even, when but a little seedling, gone with it's classmates to see the huge, grisely nut-cracker at the museum. Never, not in it's wildest dreams of being chewed up by giant gastropods whilst being forced to sing 'Stayin' alive' by the B.Gees, had Seed entertained the thought that one day IT might be next in line to be puvlerised in the mighty ridged jaws of the Nut-cracker. Seed waited in misery. Rolling back and forth and feeling like a dried up husk. Then suddenly there was a clink and a bang and two soft thuds. Then another bang. Seed had company. ************ "Mulder?" Scully hurried to her partner's side and shook him. He groaned groggily and pushed her hand away, preferring to cuddle up to teddy (Scully had never been so insulted!) and ignore her. "MULDER!" She shook him harder. "Go 'way Scully I have a headache!" "Mulder if you do not wake up this instant I will personally," and she leant over to whisper her Loreena Bobbit inspired feather duster and Cane toad involved intentions to her partner. "I'm awake." he sat bolt upright in horror. "Scully are you SURE you are a good Catholic girl." "Of course." "Then i want to join up." Mulder slid her a side long sly glance. "Mmmm...Cane toads."mulder did a bad imitation of Homer Simpson. She hit him. Then suddenly noticed that he was not focussing his eyes on her, not on anything, and his face was beginning to curl in that special way that it did when ever he got seed cravings. "Scully." He croaked. "We have company!" ************************************************************** Ooh! Will the suspense EVER be broken! Sorry so short this time but.... blasted university responsibilities are calling again! $%#*!*&&#!!!!!!! =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT BALLS 24 / ? Date: 17 Oct 1995 07:12:33 GMT Hehehehe. Kath's handed me a doozie, hasn't she? Let's see. What can happen now to our fantastic trio? ************************************************************************ Seed was shocked. Seed was stunned. First he had been surprised by the sudden arrival of his protoge human, Mulder of the Seed Cravings (known in seed folklore as Mulder the Seedible, as opposed to cannible). Little had he expected that the Seedible himself would have another of his kind in tow, just like Mulder himself, but with the strangest red growth on its head. That there should be *another* of those strange looking shell-less creatures standing before him now was appalling. What were the Council up to? The Shell-less ones appeared to be equally confused as to whence this other one of their kind had come. The red-topped Shell-less seemed to be at a loss for words. It opened its mouth, and closed it, and kept making strange little gasping sounds. His Lordship the Seedible seemed to be more in control of his senses, for a slightly injured shell-less. "Hellwege?? What the - *How* the - ?" Shell-less the Third, otherwise known as Hellwege, didn't respond. He took one cynical look at seed, gasped, swayed, and landed on the floor in a crumpled heap. *************************************************************** Meanwhile, in a large office above the cell where our heroes were being held.... Big Chief Seed was angry. His plans were being toyed with, and that was a thing he most certainly did not appreciate. He was going to find out what was going on, and then somebody was going to have to pay. ***************************************************************** There was a scraping on the other side of the door, and an order was barked out in a strange language. In a sudden swirling of motion, a dozen oversized, overdressed seeds burst into the room. They grabbed Seed and seedhandled him out of the room, and then with as much brute force, hussled our heroes and Shell-less the Third through the narrow door as well. They were conducted along a dark and stuffy passage until they reached yet another collection of cells set in a wall resembling pink - tinted concrete. After a little struggling by the Seedible and the Red Topped one, the shell-less beings were finally locked in individual shells. That left Shell and the Assistant Chief Shells. The Assistant Chief Shells began approaching him threateningly. Seed felt a hollow trembling deep inside his shell. There was a breaking noise, and a small crack developed on his previously unmarked exterior. Seed screamed. ************************************************************************ There you are, oh esteemed Kath! I've left the torture scene to be handled by your warped mind. Methinks you'd be rather good at it. :) =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS 25/25 Date: 18 Oct 1995 02:10:18 GMT Disclaim everything for the last time. Mulder threw himself at the pink cell door one last time before his shoulder went completely numb and crashed onto the hard pink floor in weary defeat. He had heard, though telepathically, the horrible screams from Seed and the sickening crunch of seed hull but he had not begun throwing himself at the door until there was a sudden utter silence and lack of seed craving. Seed was dead. Mulder sat in silence wondering, through his strange sense of loss, what would become of he and Scully. Oh, and Hellwege. He wiped away the sweat on his face with his rather grotty raggy sheets and repositioned teddy into a more secure knot over his chest. Right. He climbed to his feet and began yelling for their captors. he was not about to go out cowering in the corner. For which his subconcious was really pissed. It would not shut up about how comfortable that corner looked, nor how his sheets would match the rather lovely shade of pink found there. Mulder told it to shut up and yelled and yelled until he heard the bolts being drawn on his cell. He tensed. The door was open! he threw himself at the giant guard seed and they rolled back onto the cold pink stone floor fighting. The Seed was big, heavy and had a shell like iron and mulder was sure that his knuckles would never recover after this, but he kept on pummelling as the Seed tried to roll on him and crush him. Finally, with his hands one punch away from a certain future of arthritis he 'heard' the Seed begin to call for help. That telepathic call like a whisper that sent his stomach into raptures. Mulder did not fight it and took a large munch out of the seed hull. And another. Another. Before he knew it he had eaten 6 feet of sunflower seed. He burped. Mulder, he told himself, that was perhaps THE most disgusting thing you have ever done! His subconcious was back, its ego bruised, and looking for a fight. Eating an alien life form that you have been looking for all your life - it scolded! Well, Mulder retorted heatedly as he banged a fist on his chest and fought the heart burn, you were with me when i did it so shut up. Scully! Mulder sprang to his feet and raced for her cell. He opened her cell door and froze in shock. She was not there. In all his yelling and screaming earlier they must have taken her away. DAMN! "Hey, hey!" it was Hellwege's thin scream. Mulder raced to his door and opened it. The CIA agent stumbled out. "What happened? Where's that thing?" "I ate it." "You WHAT?" Hellwege gaped, realised that Mulder was not joking, made a gasping sound and slid soundlessly to the floor. Mulder ignored the man and raced for the stairwell, he HAD to find Scully before it was too late. ************ FIRE. Mulder found Scully by following the whipsering in his head and by the amount of drool he had to wipe off his chin. Jesus! his subconcious was back wheedling away again - you'd think 6 feet of sentient Sunflower seed would do you. But FIRE! That realisation blew everythng else away, even the drooling for seed. Scully was suspended above a giant fire, like she was some kind of human BBQ surrounded by hundreds of hungry Seeds. FIRE. It just had to be fire. Fire. The one thing in this universe that made him reach for the rubber pants. The one thing that made him so unhinged with fear that he had had to tell Scully about it. Well, she had probably been a bit suspicious after that time that they had been toasting marshmellows over a pocket firelighter and had used a toasting stick that was 3 metres long...... Still, his fear aside Scully was introuble. Mulder swallowed, trembled abit, trembled abit more, then began looking for a way to save her from the public BBQ-ing. But there were so many SEEDS! There was no way he could eeat them all, even if they lined up to be munched into oblivion. Desperate he looked around at the room full of seeds and thought hard and fast. The room was full of seeds, yes that was true, and it was large and had a ceiling criss-crossed with beams and from them hung flaming candles for lighting. He squinted. Thought. Then suddenly with his subconcious screaming NOOOOOOOOOOO I DON'T WANNA DIE! Mulder began to scale the rough stone wall. And with the agility of a very drunk, elderly mountain goat he reached the beams unnoticed by the hugry seeds. He did not waste time. Untiing a rope from the nearest beam he launched himself away from the wall and Tarzaned his way in a graceful arc toward Scully. As he passed by over her head he snatched her, pole and all from the fire and sailed out of danger. The hall of hungry Seeds went wild. Rolling and rocking, snarling and rioting. The head of the Seed people could only watch as his hoards, that he had been trying to placate and keep on his side with this BBQ, went out of control. DAMN THOSE HUMANS! Mulder landed in a heap with Scully on top of him, against the far wall. "OOWWWW!!!" He yelped as she struggled to sit up. "Careful with that pole, i might wanna have little Mulder's one day." "GGfffbbbddd." Scully said through that gag. He narrowed his eyes. "Was that an insult Scully?" GGGGFFFFBBBDDD!!!!" She said more loudly waving the pole around in a mannor that threatened to sterilize him. "Watch it Scully!" He ducked, turning to the side. Then he saw it. The FIRE. It had caught onto the seeds, onto anything that could burn. IT was all around them, getting closer. There was no way to escape. Mudler could feel it burning him. Feel the heat scorching his skin. He felt himself turn to jelly, all his muscles gave out and he sat, horrified as it got closer and closer..... Suddenly there was a thunderous downpour of rain that got in his eyes, in his ears, that sizzled the fire and..... ************ Scully tossed the cup of water over her partner's face and waited as his spluttered, blinked and choked and finally opened his eyes. "What the...?" Were his first gracious words. "Mulder?" Scully grabbed his face and made him look at her. "Mulder can you hear me?" "Yeah. But what about the fire?" "What fire?" She asked as he suddenly sat up staring wildly around his apartment, goggling at it as if he had neve seen it before. Perhaps he had a concusion. After all, slipping in sunflower seed hulls then cracking his head on an Adult video box left lying on the floor could be a serious injury. She was thinking this as Mulder shot to his feet and began patting himsefl down, staring at his rumpled suit and tie as if he had suddenly woken up to find himself dressed as a giant Squid. "No sheets." he looked bewildered at her. "Where's teddy?" Oh shit. SCully thought. Sheets? Teddy? He rushed to the window and for a moment looked like he may launch himself throught it. "No pink! No Orange!" He crowed happily. He pulled himelf back in again and looked at Scully beginning to smile. "I'm home." "You are going to the hospital." "No." "Yes." "NO!" "YES." "NONONOONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO." "YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES. Yes times 20." "No times a million." mulder declared triumphantly and Scully scowled. "Mulder you are going to the hospital whether you like it or not and on the way we are going to take your water filter.... Again." ************************************************************************ Ah the end at last. What a literary masterpiece it was too. Comments, fan mail, flames and other stuff is welcome. Kath and the Dignified Alex now enter into the realms of end of year Uni maddness so you are all safe for us for a little while.... He he he. =========================================================================== From: Alex Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: PAINT-BALLS: EPILOGUE Date: 19 Oct 1995 00:20:59 GMT Excerpt from X File FM 95 001 029 791 final report, written by Special Agent D. Scully: "...Special Agent Fox Mulder was discharged from hospital three days later following intensive LSD detoxification and psychiatric analysis. Psychiatric counselling is continuing on a weekly basis. No explanation has been forthcoming as to Agent Mulder's sudden uncharacteristic aversion to sunflower seeds, nor to his sudden detestation for the colours of pink, orange and red. Nor has there been any explanation for the loss of his fear of fire. Agent Mulder has also been referred to a dietician in the hope that he will be able to construct for himself a healthy, sunflower seed free diet. Dietary reconstruction is continuing, but already a marked improvement in Agent Mulder's health and emotional wellbeing has been noted. Of more consequence is the origin of the LSD contamination in Agent Mulder's drinking water. Attempts to trace the origin of the LSD filter also found in Agent Mulder's water tank have been consistently blocked by FBI bureaucracy. At the specific request of Assistant Director Skinner, all attempts to locate the perpetrators of this contamination have been abandoned. Thus, X File FM 95 001 029 791 can no longer be regarded as suitable investigative material for this department. Other files regarding the extraordinary change in Agent Mulder's psyche have been referred to the professional counselling department. With permission to investigate the origin of illegal contamination of public drinking water denied by our superiors, this case must be regarded as closed." ************************************************************************ Well, that's it, everyone. Thanks for all the mail, and once again, our most sincere of sincere apologies for all the posting problems we've encountered. As is probably evident by now, Kath and I have left a lot of questions unanswered in Paint Balls. The main purpose of this was to allow people to carry on the joke of the continuation of Sheryl's test post still further. If anybody out there would like to follow up any of the threads we've left open, they can feel free to do so. I'm dying to know what happened in Denver! :) Alex. =========================================================================== From: Kath Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Paint-balls. The epilogue to the epilogue Date: 5 Nov 1995 12:01:30 GMT O.K i could not resist this........ usual paint balls disclaimer! Mulder bent low. Down in a squat against the wall. He did not have his gun. He could not find it after Scully had cleaned out his desk so bare hands would have to do. Careful. Inch by inch, praying that his knees would not crack or pop in this awkward position, hoping that his blurry vision would not hinder him. He was almost there....... Almost ready to pounce. Pausing to gather himself Mulder saw that his opponent had no idea, no clue that he was even there. He smiled tightly and gathered himself to spring. "AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" Mulder launched himself with all the spring he could muster and threw himself at his victim glaring wildly. He was an inch away from her face before he stopped dead and recieved an ear splitting shriek of "AAAAHHHHHH!!! ALIENS!!!!!!!." Then - "MULDER!!!!" Mulder blinked in sudden pain and winced as Scully ripped the 'wobbly eye' glasses from his face, scratching his nose. "OW!" He rubbed his hurt nose. "Mulder. That is the second time in the last hour that you have done that and I am warning you that if that is not the last time you are going to be autopsy fodder." "Aw Scully." He tried his famous whipped puppy look and had to duck the paper weight that was suddenly launched at his head. "Mulder....." She glared. "What part of stop it don't you understand?" "It." He pronounced. He ducked the pencil sharpener. "I'm bored." Scully pointed at the stack of papers infront of her . "And I am behind." "And what a nice behind it is too." He ducked the eraser. Mulder pouted, Scully scowled and then...... Nothing. Mulder started spinning around and around in his wheely chair. Scully gave him a Look. He stopped. Started drumming his fingers. Another Look. He sighed explosivley after about another 20 seconds. "Right that's it." Scully tossed her pen down and looked crossly at him. "What is the matter with you?" He grinned suddenly. Leaned across his desk and displayed all ten fingers and five toes. Scully could see that he was fairly quivering with pent up energy. "I got 15 minutes sleep last night Scully." He nodded like a maniac and waved the digits around. "Read 'em and weep." "I am impressed." He nodded smugly and put his sock back on, mouthing 15 again and again. "So what's the problem?" Scully asked. "I'm bored." "So go find a new X-file." "I tried but Skinner said that if I come up to his office again that he would graft a cactus to my butt." "Creative." "Mm." He nodded. "I said that to him." "And?" "My butt hurts." Scully blinked and decided to leave that one well alone. Suddenly she got suscpicous. "Mulder are you taking that medication I gave you?" "Yeah." "Really?" She looked intently at him. "Yeah." "Really." "No." he looked sheepishly at her. "It gives me a really embarassing rash in the shape of a...." "MULDER! That stuff I gave you was important. Do you want to get rid of that gunk out of your system or not?" "Oh. Alright I'll take some now! Satisified?" "Very." She watched as he went to get a glass of water and made an extravagant show of swollowing the pills. After she was satisified Mulder went back to his seat and she got back on with her paper work. Mulder sat there for about 10 seconds before he saw something that caught his eye. A black chunk of gunk on the ceiling. He wondered what it was. "Mulder what are you doing?" "There's something stuck to the ceiling Scully. I just wanna see what it is." he hauled himself onto his desk and tried to pick it off. It fell in his eye. "ARRGGHH!" Mulder shrieked, hand to his eye. He hopped off the desk and began running up and down the room shrieking . Scully tried to grab his hands but it did not even slow him down, she felt herself being pulled off her feet with every one of his hops and jumps. "OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW!" "Mulder hold still. HOLD STILL. JESUS CHRIST SON OF MARY IT"S LIKE LIVING WITH A TWO YEAR OLD!" Scully screamed back. Finally she broke through to him and got the tiny speck out of his eye. He blinked miserably at her and pouted. "Right Mulder that is it!" She grabbed his hand. "Come on we are going to the market." "Why?" "You'll find out." ********************* Scully sighed a big lung breaker in pure satisfaction as Mulder's sensible tie came off and was replaced with one sporting a large pink orangutan. And then the jumbo sized bag of sunflower seeds. "But I don't....." Mulder trailed as Scully looked at him threateningly. He grabbed a sunflower seed and bit down. Immediately the taste, texture, and pure psychological rush sent him weak at the knees and he crashed into his office chair. he sat there. Stupidly stunned. How could he EVER have given them up. He felt like singing to them but instead settled down to eat every last one. Then he sang Ave Maria in a high G to the packet . Scully finished her paper work in realtive peace. ********************** That was when the real problems began and Scully knew that things were back to normal. Mudler sat there eating contentedly between cases and Scully could get the paper work done and Skinner did not have to shell out for cacti anymore. Everyone, except Mulder's shrink and dietician, were very happy. There was only one problem. No one could understand Mulder anymore. His perpetual mouthful of seeds, now that everyone was unfamiliar with it, meant that all his words came with a spray of crumbs and appalling diction. That was when Scully set upon her idea. It was going to make millions and give Mulder back his ability to communicate. For weeks on end. Months even. Scully slaved. Worked her fingers into dust and gave herself brain strain. But she perservered. Mulder got moody the more she worked on her plan and ignored him. He started to get short tempered and had given Agent Hardy a black eye after yelling at him and spraying the agent in seed crumbs at such velocity that the poor man was temporarily blinded and concussed. Mulder's nickname had become The Spooky Firehose which only made him madder and madder until now he rarely slept more than 30 seconds in one go. And that was only when he was staring wide eyed at Skinner in Skinner's office. he claimed that the man's drone was the only thing that could send him to sleep. That and the lack of cacti grafting. All through this Scully worked diligently. Day and night. Ignoring Mulder's wake of destruction through the Hoover building. Ignoring Skinner's call for her to give him reports. Ignored the iguanas that were plaging the cafeteria and stealing all the paper napkins. Ignored even the urge to go to the toilet...... Well may be that isn't true but you get the picture. FINALLY IT WAS FINISHED! Scully sighed explosively and sat back at her desk. It was done. Perfect. "Mulder I've finished!" Scully pronounced to her sulking partner who was visciously rubbing out the eyes of the Lone Gunmen on their magazine cover with his last ink eraser. He did not even look up as he said "MMMFFFFKJMMDJERHGYTEEEENKDSANSJDNSKDFODFDJNEMLMDSMSLDM L WQQWOPWJRM:LWMVODVJDFJERKNSDNSKDN." Around a large mouthful of seeds. AAHH the acid test. Scully carefully looked through her masterpiece and made out the words - I don't care about that Scully. The iguanas ate my last pair of shorts in the squid - well may be it needed a few corrections Scully admitted. Still it was pretty good. Finally Mulder looked up. "Uugghhssssfffttthhh." He choked. "It's a Seed Speak Dictionary." "Huh? Moophcnnngggunggerstannnnmeeee?" "Yes i can understand you Mulder. And it's going to make me millions!" She went for her celphone. She never made it. On an instinctive level Mulder knew that she was going to call her publisist and every fibre of his being screamed like a pig in heat at the thought. He was Furious. Launching himself at Scully they hit the floor wrestling. All over the office. Knocking over chairs and files and scattering the inch high mounds of seed hulls that littered the floor. That was about the time that two things happened. The first was that Skinner came in, had one look and went to get his cacti. The second was that Mulder hit his head on his desk leg and was knocked out cold..... *********************************************************************** Sorry, could not resist. Please ignore spelling - it is very late at night.