From: Youkneek Date: 31 Jan 1999 21:19:06 GMT Subject: FIC: Round Files (1/1) AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story first appeared on atxc in the spring of 1995. Those were fun days and atxc was a playhouse for writers and readers alike. I've been absent from the group for a number of years, having grown weary of the feuding. However, I've recently decided that abandonment was the wrong approach. In an effort to restore some of the spirit of fun, which I remember so well from my early days at atxc, I'm reposting this story, which was written in that spirit. I hope it hasn't aged too badly And to any other writers weary of the feuding I encourage you to join me in this effort to take positive action to return atxc to the writers and readers. If we all work together we can rebuild the playground for everyone:) Oh dear, this was written before categories and all. . .let me think. . . Category: Humor/Parody Archive: Yes to Gossamer. All others please ask permission of author:) Spoilers: Season 1 and 2 Summary: When two weary TV stars switch places with their television characters, chaos ensues for everyone concerned. DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, other than names and minor physical details is coincidental. Profuse apologies to all the fine people who work so hard to bring us X-files for any liberties I've taken with their good characters. As someone famous once said....."I can resist anything but temptation." I have no idea how this should be rated - S for Stupid maybe? There are a few four letter words so be forewarned. Copyright 1995 This story is based on the characters created by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. Used without permission and no infringement is intended. The rest of the story is the byproduct of my own twisted imagination. Send it ricocheting around the net for all I care, just don't charge any money for it or publish it without my permission. The Round File (1/5 - Freaky Friday) by YouKneek@aol.com 4/1/95 "Gillian. David. Hurry up! We're going to try this one last time and then we're out of here." "Sure, that's what you said two hours ago," muttered David, stomping into the elevator as he pulled on the navy suitcoat. "Can we please do this right just one time? I want to go home." Knowing that she was at least partly to blame for his frustration, having screwed up her lines on the last take, Gillian hurried to join him in the elevator with an apologetic smile. He sighed, realizing she was probably just as sick of the set as he was at this point and joked, "Once more into the breach. . ." "Okay, people," shouted the director, relieved that his two stars were still talking to each other, "let's finish this up. Remember, Gillian, when the doors open you guys walk straight out as you turn to David and say, 'OK Mulder, I'll buy that, but just what makes you think this is an X-File?'. Got it?" "Got it," she confirmed, wondering how she could have screwed up such a simple line. As the director called, "Action!" she reached over and pushed the button to close the elevator door. "What the hell?" cried David as the elevator was suddenly bathed in a blinding blue light. "Isn't anything going to go right today?" "It's ok, David," murmured Gillian, as the lighting returned to normal, "the door's still closed. Do you need a minute to get ready before I push the button?" "No, go ahead," he replied, double checking to make sure he was still on his marks. Gillian pushed the button, the doors opened, and she started walking out with David at her side. "Okay, Mulder, I'll buy that, but just what makes you think this is an X-File?" she asked, turning to look up at him. "Shit!" screamed David. "Where the hell are the cameras? I don't believe this." Gillian looked around and realized that not only were there no cameras but the entire crew seemed to have disappeared. Even stranger, she had no idea where they were. The warehouse, all the stage lights, and the makeshift set were gone. Instead, they were in a busy office, crowded with desks and people, most of whom were staring at them with open mouths. "Looks like old Spooky's finally losing it," muttered the preppy looking man standing closest to the elevator. "Watch your language, Mulder. I think that's a lady standing next to you." "What the hell? Who is this guy? Will somebody please tell me what is going on? Chris, wherever you are, this isn't funny," yelled David. He shouldered past the man who was now blocking his path. Gillian continued to stand where she was, trying desperately to get her bearings. She had no more idea than David as to what was going on but if this was one of Chris Carter's famous jokes he'd gone all out on it. It looked like there were close to twenty extras in the room. Even for Chris though, it seemed like an odd time to pull a prank. He knew how cranky everyone was by Friday afternoon. "What's all the yelling about?" "At last, a familiar voice," thought Gillian, briefly wondering what Mitch was doing here. The situation between David and the idiot in the suit was deteriorating rapidly. "David," she whispered, pulling him away from the shoving match, "here comes Mitch. Maybe he knows what's going on." David turned to see Mitch striding towards them, looking extremely irritated. "Mitch, what's going on? I thought you left hours ago. Where is everybody?" Mitch stopped suddenly and looked behind him as if to figure out who David was talking to. Finding no one there, he turned back to David, fixing him with a steely glare. "In my office...both of you," he barked, then turned on his heel to stride back down the row of desks. "In his what?" asked David, turning to look at Gillian with a totally befuddled expression on his face. "NOW!" shouted Mitch, as he realized that they were still standing by the elevator. "Now you're gonna get it," chanted the guy in the suit, who was now really starting to irritate Gillian. Seeing that David was ready to belt the guy, she quickly grabbed his arm and yanked, indicating they should follow Mitch. "Do I know that guy?" hissed David, reluctantly following her. "He looks really familiar. I think he was on the show last season. What a jerk!" "Let it go, David," Gillian whispered, suddenly aware that everyone was still looking at them. "Let's just go see what Mitch is up to and figure out where we are." "I'll go see Mitch all right, but if Chris thinks I'm going to go back and shoot that stupid scene one more time after he pulls a stunt like this, he can forget it. I'm going home," he declared, as they came to a stop at a door marked "Walter S. Skinner, Assistant Director." "This is getting ridiculous." Gillian pushed open the office door, struck by how heavy it was compared to the usual doors they used on the set. "I can't believe Chris paid to build this set just for some stupid joke. The pencil pushers at corporate are going to kill him." "Shut the door," snapped Mitch, glaring angrily at both of them. "What do you mean by that display out there, Mulder? I know you and Colton have never gotten along but I won't tolerate my agents brawling like kids in a schoolyard." "Colton...," mused David, the missing name slipping into place in his far from eidetic memory, "that's who he played but what's his real name?" Hearing no response he continued, "Oh well, never mind, I'll just make sure that Chris never hires him again." Gillian stared with fascination as Mitch's face grew even tenser and he started to hyperventilate. He always had a tendency to lose himself in his part but this was absurd. Skinner would never lose his cool this badly. They both jumped as Mitch slammed the book he'd been holding down onto the desk. "Sit down, both of you," he managed to squeeze out, obviously making an effort to keep control of his temper. "Sure," said David, gratefully sinking into the closest chair and propping up his long legs on the desk. Gillian took the chair next to him, continuing to watch Mitch as he stared at David's legs as if he'd never seen them before. "Agent Mulder, get your feet off my desk," he thundered, catching David completely by surprise. His startled response sent the chair pivoting backwards, and it took several seconds of flailing limbs to rebalance and bring the chair back under control. Mitch appeared less than impressed by David's contortions. "I hope you have a good excuse for your behavior and it better not have anything to do with aliens. You can start by explaining why the report you were supposed to have filed two hours ago is not on my desk." Thoroughly exasperated, David pushed his seat back and lunged to his feet. "Look Mitch, I don't know what you think you're doing but if Chris put you up to this I am not amused. Can the bad acting. I'm not buying it. Just tell me where everyone went or let me get out of here. This has gone way past the joke stage." Mitch circled the desk, staring at David with an expression usually reserved for sewer slugs and circus freaks. With a quick glance at Gillian he asked, "Agent Scully, how long has he been like this?" Gillian smothered a laugh as she replied, "You mean irritable and moody? Oh, for as long as I've know him." David scowled at her. "Very funny, ha, ha." Taking a deep breath, Mitch turned back to Gillian, "Agent Scully, I think you know what I mean. Just what happened up there in New Jersey? You indicated that wildwoman attacked Agent Mulder but you didn't say anything about brain damage." Okay, two can play at this game, thought Gillian. "Well sir, I'm sorry about the report being late but my laptop battery died and I haven't had a chance to replace it. You'll have a full report on your desk in the morning. As for Agent Mulder, he's been under a lot of stress lately. I'm sure he'll be fine after a good night's sleep," she concluded, with a solid kick to David's shin when he started to protest. With relief she noted that David seemed to have taken the hint and sat silently rubbing his shin as Mitch continued to glare at him. Finally, Mitch seemed to tire of the whole charade and said with a sigh, "Take him home then and see that he goes to bed. Make sure you go out the back way or he and Colton will be at it again. I'll expect your report on my desk first thing Monday morning. You're dismissed." With a shrug, David gathered his coat and joined Gillian as she left the room. He started to ask her a question but she just shook her head, a finger to her lips. She practically pushed him out the door, noticing as she turned to close it, that Mitch was still watching both of them intently. "What was that all about?" asked David as soon as the door closed. "No wait, don't tell me. Let me guess. We're in a parallel universe and we have to act the part or we'll never get home." "Of course not," replied Gillian. "Don't be ridiculous. It's all a gag but I figured the quickest way to get out of it was to just play along. I don't know about you but my husband's expecting me home for dinner. Look, here's an elevator." She quickly pushed the down button. David stared at the elevator, obviously perplexed. "Okay, just tell me this. Why do we need to get in an elevator to get out of a building that only has one story? You know the other one was a fake." Just at that moment the doors to the elevator opened. Gillian, having noticed that the actor who played the Colton character was bearing down on them, quickly shoved David inside and pushed the button marked "1." The doors closed just before the Colton character reached them. "What is with you?" cried David, picking himself up off the floor. "And why is this elevator going down?" "Don't ask," responded Gillian, starting to wonder herself what was going on. "We'll figure it out when we get outside." It seemed like forever before the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened on a large lobby. Gillian hurried out, pulling David with her, and headed for the nearest set of exterior doors. "Oh good, it's stopped raining," she said, pushing open the door. They both stopped in shock as the heat and humidity hit them. Scanning from side to side, looking for familiar landmarks, they turned as one and looked back at the building they'd just exited. "Federal Bureau of Investigation, Washington, D.C." was clearly stamped on the door. In the distance, the Washington monument was barely visible in the late afternoon haze. Neither of them said anything for several minutes. "Do you see what I see?" asked Gillian, finally finding her voice. "I don't know," David whispered, still looking confused. "Tell me what you see." "We're in Washington you idiot," she snapped, obviously starting to lose it. "How on earth did we get to Washington? We were only in that elevator for a minute. Even Chris couldn't pull off anything this elaborate." "It's a dream," muttered David, shaking his head. "Here, pinch me and I'll wake up." He held out his arm to her. Gillian pinched him, causing him to yelp in pain. "Not so hard. That hurts. Anyhow, I've changed my mind. This is a nightmare," he said, on hand distractedly rubbing the sore spot. "What are we going to do?" asked Gillian, looking ready to cry. "I've got to get home." "Look, there's a phone," David said, hurrying across the plaza to a pay phone. "You can call Clyde and tell him what happened. Then we'll get a cab to the airport and catch a flight back to Vancouver." Surprised that he was being so 'can do' in the face of total chaos, Gillian followed him to the phone. "Shit, it's out of order," he cursed. The frustrated kick which accompanied this remark left no impression on the stone facade and the bruised toes merely added to his frustration. Just then his pocket started to ring. Fumbling in his haste, David almost dropped the cellphone as he yanked it out of his suitcoat. "Where did this come from?" he asked, flipping open the phone and nearly choking as he answered, "Hello?" "We've got to meet," said the voice in the phone. "You know where. . .midnight. . .come alone or I won't be there." With an abrupt click, the line went dead. "What the fuck?. . .Oh, screw it," David muttered, suddenly realizing that he held the answer to their communication problems in his hand. With a gallant flourish, he handed the phone to Gillian who immediately punched in her home number. He watched, growing increasingly concerned, as she disconnected and redialed the number. "Excuse me, can you tell me what number I've just called?. . . How long have you had that number? . . . No, no, I'm sorry. I must be mistaken," Gillian murmured, disconnecting once more. Looking up at David with utter bewilderment, she said, "That was the aquarium at the Vancouver Zoo. Somehow they've got my phone number and they swear they've had it for years." "Don't panic," responded David, snatching the phone out of her hand and starting to dial, "There's lots of other people we can call." Ninety minutes later they sat on the steps, staring at the broken phone, which David had finally hurled to the ground in frustration. "I think we've talked to every fast food joint in the United States. I sure hope we get out of here before that phone bill has to be paid," he groaned, trying to make light of their increasingly desperate situation. "So, David, tell me again about this parallel universe theory," Gillian sighed. "That was a joke. At least, I think it was a joke. You know I don't believe in that kind of nonsense." Meanwhile. . .in a grey sedan parked across the street a phone rang. "Krycek," answered the man sitting in the driver's seat, as he flipped open the phone. "No, they're still here. . .I don't know. They're acting really screwy, even for them. . .Okay, I'll let you know when they leave." He set the phone back down on the seat next to him as he continued to watch the couple across the street. Continued in part 2 The Round File (2/5 - Getting Weirder By the Minute) All disclaimers from part 1 still apply The dented yellow cab, which had definitely seen its better days, pulled up to the curb in front of the old brick building. Two passengers emerged slowly, pausing to pay the driver before they moved to the sidewalk. The redhead examined the building for a moment before turning to her companion and asking, "Whose idea was it to go to Mulder's place anyhow? I have a feeling that this is going to be a pit. Scully has a really nice place. We should have gone there." "Don't be such a priss," her companion replied, quickly moving towards the front steps. "Besides, I'm the one who had keys in my pocket, not to mention a wallet. You're the one who didn't want to go back in the building and try to find your purse. . .I mean her purse. Oh, forget it. It's too confusing. Let's just go in." She slowly climbed the steps to his side as he opened the front door. Neither of them spoke as they entered the elevator in the lobby. They were both exhausted and hungry. Try as they might to deny the reality of their situation, the facts overwhelmingly supported the unbelievable. The killing blow had come when David had gone to scratch a sore spot on his side and discovered a bandage over a long gash that definitely wasn't his. Invasion of the Body Snatchers had nothing on their current situation. Somewhere, in the tired recesses of his brain, David was laughing at the image of trying to explain this event in a future press interview. "And I'm supposed to be the skeptical one," he thought as the elevator doors opened. Stopping at the door marked '42,' neither one of them was really surprised when one of the keys on the ring David had found fit perfectly. Enough weird things had happened by this time that they were both beginning to accept bizarre as the norm. David entered first, fumbling for the light switch on the wall. The scene which met their eyes had an all too familiar look to it, from the walls in need of a fresh coat of paint, to the haphazard piles of books, magazines, and newspapers. "I still don't believe this." Gillian walked slowly through the tiny apartment, picking up occasional items to examine them more closely. "How is any of this possible? I mean, this is just an idea that Chris had for a series. How can any of this be real?" "Doesn't this guy eat anything besides sunflower seeds?" asked David, ignoring her questions as he searched through the slim pickings in the refrigerator. "Two beers and leftover chow mien is not exactly what I had in mind for dinner." "Look David, there really are fish," cried Gillian from the other room, as she paused in front of the aquarium. "Do you think I should feed them?" She looked up from her search for fish food to find David standing in the kitchen doorway with a stricken expression on his face. "Oh God, who's going to feed Blue?" "Blue? Blue? We're stuck in an alternate universe and you're worried about your dog? What about my baby? What about Clyde? Your DOG? Give me a break!" Abandoning the fish, she plopped down on the couch. "Hey, don't get mad at me. I didn't make this happen. Besides, you know Clyde will feed Piper. Hell, maybe SHE'LL feed Piper. If what we think is true she should have the equipment she needs," he shouted back at her. Gillian struggled with the image of some fictional character, nursing her baby and moving whole hog into her previously comfortable existence. "Oh god, this can't be happening," she sobbed, finally giving into the tears which had threatened all afternoon. The two men sitting in the paneled van across the street, monitoring the conversation in the apartment above, looked at each other in amazement. "Shit, they're on to us. I thought we'd hidden the bugs better this time. Why can't Mulder just react like a normal person and write notes when he thinks we're bugging him? I swear he pulls shit like this just to piss us off," swore Krycek, throwing his headset down on the seat. "Wait," cautioned his companion, stubbing out his cigarette, "I'm not sure this is all gibberish. It could be a code. This baby business intrigues me. Remember our suspicions about the trenchcoats and the way she hid behind counters all the time." Picking his words carefully, Krycek asked, "Well then what's the 'dog' business mean and all that stuff about an alternate universe?" "I don't know but I'll find out. Stay here and keep up the surveillance." The older man pocketed the tape and quietly exited the van, much to the relief of Krycek, who had been gagging on all the cigarette smoke. Wishing he could open a window to vent the smoke, Krycek set up a fresh tape and put the headset back on, resigning himself to listening to more of Mulder's bull. Despite any theory the Marlboro Man had, he was convinced Mulder was just jerking his chain. "Gillian, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," David apologized, sitting down next to her on the coach. "Look, I've still got $80 and a Visa card. Let's go out to dinner." Wiping the remaining tears on the handkerchief he gave her, Gillian didn't answer for a moment. "Isn't that stealing or something? I mean, it's not really our money after all." "Look, I'm having enough problems trying to cope here without worrying about the ethics of this whole situation. Figure it this way, he's got my wallet, I've got his. It'll all balance out. Let me just see if he's got something more comfortable than this suit to wear." Gillian, apparently accepting his logic, hurried into the bathroom before he could beat her to it. Searching through all the bathroom drawers and cupboards, she decided that if Mulder and Scully were sleeping together, as the show's fans liked to fantasize, they must not be shacking up at his place. There wasn't a lipstick or mascara to be found and there was only one toothbrush. Luckily, with the help of a washcloth and towel, she was able to repair most of the damage from the tears. When she exited the bathroom she found David looking considerably more relaxed in worn blue jeans, a navy tee shirt, and sneakers. Wishing that Dana had been indiscreet enough to leave some comfortable clothes here for her to wear, she resigned herself to putting up with her suit for awhile longer. David held the door for her as they exited the apartment. Having temporarily accepted their bizarre situation, the rest of the weekend went relatively smoothly. After a wonderful meal, at a small restaurant they found, they returned to Mulder's and settled in for the night. David graciously let Gillian have the futon and even helped her move the piles of clothes and newspapers off of it. He seemed content to curl up on the coach and peruse the amazing assortment of videos before falling asleep. They spent Saturday playing tourists, enjoying the chance to be anonymous. It had been a long time since either one of them had been able to stroll the streets without being accosted by fans. Whatever other problems Mulder and Scully had, being pursued by hordes of admirers did not appear to be one of them. Gillian resolved her wardrobe crisis, with the help of Mulder's Visa card. Due to twinges of guilt about the havoc this must be creating for Mulder's no doubt limited financial resources, she resisted the temptation to splurge and settled for necessities. David was basking in the enjoyment of walking the streets in peace. Despite the heat and humidity, the D.C. weather offered a welcome break from the rainy skies of Vancouver. Sunday was spent in much the same way and it was only as the evening approached that the feeling of vacation began to wear off. "David, I hate to seem ungracious after you've been so nice about all this but I would really like to get home," said Gillian as they lingered over dessert at a local cafe. "I miss Clyde and Piper and I want my old life back. How are we going to get home?" "Well, if I remember my Star Trek correctly, it has something to do with being in the transporter at the right time but it all has to be carefully coordinated," replied David, with a smile. "Actually, I hate to tell you this, but I don't have a clue. I guess I should have read more science fiction, less poetry." "OK, then answer me this. Do we have to go to work tomorrow? Because, if we do, we'd better figure out how to get that report written." David smacked his head with his palm, suddenly feeling all the relaxation of the weekend slip away. "Oh shit, the report. . .I forgot all about that. Yeah, we probably do have to go to work. I don't know if this makes any sense, but maybe if we hang out in that elevator we'll just switch back." Gillian considered that for a movement before responding. "I don't think that Skinner guy is going to be very happy if we try hanging out in the elevator all day. He's bound to get suspicious. Besides that, what happens if it doesn't work?" "I don't know. I forgot to bring my 'Traveler's Guide to Alternate Universes' with me. Look, let's just plan on spending as much time in the elevator as we can without arousing suspicion. Then we'll just fill in the rest of the time doing whatever it is Mulder and Scully do all day." "Pray tell, what is that? You have the easy part of this. Everyone already thinks you're crazy. I'm supposed to be the sensible one. And what about the stupid report?" "Will you knock it off about the bloody report!!! How hard can it be to write? We shot the Jersey Devil ep last season for pete's sake. You can just write up whatever was in the script." "You want me to file a report with the FBI based upon a TV script? What if it was a different wildwoman? I mean, maybe they deal with this kind of stuff all the time. Besides which, you know I never really write a report. They just script snippets. I don't know how to do it." David sighed, reneging on all of his earlier thoughts that maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. The report was a definite problem. Neither of them wanted to face Skinner without it. "I know, let's go back to the building and find our office. We know it's in the basement somewhere, down a corridor filled with file boxes. I'll bet Scully's laptop is in the office. Maybe she's already written the report. Then all we'd have to do is print it out and we're home free," David concluded, pulling Gillian to her feet. "I'll get a cab." Krycek pulled to a stop a block behind the cab and watched the two as they struggled to make the keycard work. He was in a foul mood, having wasted most of his weekend following them around. None of the conversations they'd monitored made any sense. Cancerman and his cronies were still trying to find a pattern in the dialogue but he seriously doubted that they would be successful. He still couldn't figure out what Mulder and Scully were doing spending the whole weekend together. Surely they didn't think they could get away with that without someone noticing. He waited several minutes before following them into the building, confident that they would probably head straight for their office. Opting for the stairs, to avoid alerting them with the noise of the elevator, he headed for the basement. Sure that they were already in the office, he was caught by surprise when he rounded a corner and crashed into Scully, almost knocking her over in the process. David and Gillian had begun to realize that finding the X-Files office was not going to be as easy as they had anticipated. The basement offered an abundance of corridors, most of them packed with shelves and old file boxes, that looked just like the set of the exterior of their office. None of the occasional markers on the basement walls provided any clues. They were close to giving up the whole plan when Krycek rounded the corner and ran into Gillian. FUCKFUCKFUCK! Krycek struggled to maintain a calm exterior, hoping Spooky wasn't able to read minds. At least Scully and Mulder seemed equally shocked to see him and after a number of false starts they abandoned any attempt at conversation. "Excuse me," offered Krycek, recovering first, "I was just looking for an old file. I didn't realize anyone else was down here." "We're just leaving," Gillian piped up, snagging David by the arm and pulling him back down the corridor. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to get out of this maze now that they were in it and made a number of wrong turns before suddenly stopping in front of a door with a lopsided nameplate, reading 'Special Agent Fox Mulder.' "David, give me those keys," she hissed, not wanting to alert the stranger who might still be lurking in the corridors. Handing over the key ring, David hissed back, "Gillian, do you know who that was? That was Krycek. I almost didn't recognize him without the Brylcream. What's he doing here? He doesn't even show up until the second season." Having finally managed to get the door open, Gillian shoved David through the opening. With a quick final check of the corridor she followed him in, turning to lock the door behind them. "Forget about Krycek. We've got bigger problems." Turning on the light they immediately started the search for the laptop. In just minutes they had located the laptop and powered it up. Any feelings of success were immediately quashed when the screen flashed ENTER PASSWORD. "We're screwed," moaned David. "We won't be able to figure that out in a million years." Gillian ignored him and after reviewing everything she knew about Scully, starting trying passwords. She rapidly ran through Starbuck, Trustno1, spooky, and a variety of others. It took ten minutes before she hit on the correct one, "OFU". "How did you do that and what kind of password is OFU?" asked David, incredulous that she had managed to figure it out. "It's UFO spelled backwards. Great minds think alike," she responded with a smug expression on her face. With a visible effort, David let that one go by. Gillian was racing through the options and had located a file that looked promising. Quickly scanning the document to make sure it was the one they wanted, they were relieved to find that the report was apparently complete and just needed to be printed. It took a few minutes to figure out how to print it and they both sighed in relief when they finally had the finished document in hand. Gillian snagged Scully's purse off the desk on her way to the door. Krycek barely managed to duck out of sight when they charged out of the office several minutes later. He followed them, at a distance, as they took the most roundabout route to the elevator possible. It was obvious to him that they suspected he was still following them so he opted once again to use the stairs. He followed them out and was surprised to see them flag another cab, still leaving Scully's car on the lot. Krycek noted that Mulder's car, parked on the street, now had an impressive stack of parking tickets under the windshield wiper. The business of using cabs all the time really had him puzzled. Reviewing his notes on the conversation he'd overheard in the corridor, he scratched his head over the 'second season' comment. Puzzling over how Mulder knew his name, he muttered, "No wonder they call him Spooky," as he climbed into his car. He was pleased to find his relief already parked at Mulder's apartment house when they got back. Finally, he could go home and forget these lunatics for the night. His hair flopped in his eyes as he backed out to the street and he found himself wondering if Brylcream would fix that problem. Gillian was already awake and in the shower when the alarm went off at 5am. By the time David had the coffee brewing she was out and dressed and David took his turn. It took him longer to get ready as he discarded one horrendous tie after another. It looked like Mulder could give the wardrobe guys lessons in this area. Resigned that he had to pick one, no matter how awful, he finally selected a navy silk number dotted with red and yellow flying saucers. "Nice tie, David. No wonder it took you so long. I hope the fashion police don't arrest you." "Be nice or we won't go by Scully's and you'll have to wear that suit again." The trip to Scully's went smoothly. Nothing like taxis for finding your way around strange cities. David waited in the cab while Gillian ran in and changed. "This place is definitely nicer," chirped Gillian, returning to the cab. "We should stay here tonight if we don't get home." "But I haven't watched all the videos yet. You know how I was looking forward to Bambie Does Dallas." "Watch out, David. I think you're becoming your character. Next thing you know you'll be looking for UFOs and having trouble sleeping." "You're one to talk. I had no idea that you were so proficient with computers." The banter helped distract them from the upcoming ordeal of trying to fake it through a day at the office. Paying off the cabby with his last twenty dollar bill, David reflected that they were going to have to get some cash soon if they had to stay here much longer. The trip up the elevator went smoothly, although they were disappointed to find themselves still in the FBI building when the doors opened on the sixth floor. They quickly deposited the report on Skinner's desk and headed back to the elevator, marveling at how smoothly everything was going so far. "Uh oh, look who's getting off the elevator. Quick, in here." Opening the closest available door, David yanked Gillian into the room with him. Unfortunately, he hadn't noticed that it was the door to the Men's Room. Immediately realizing the mistake, they were just turning to leave when Skinner entered. "Excuse me," murmured David, attempting to duck past him with Gillian in tow. Skinner immediately moved to block their path. "Agent Scully, what an unexpected pleasure. Would you care to explain what you're doing in here?" "Not really," muttered Gillian, looking daggers at David, who immediately started to babble. "It's all very simple, sir. Uhmmm, Gillian, I mean, Scully, she had kind of an emergency and the door to the Women's room was stuck so I suggested she use the Men's room and I'd guard the door for her." "In my office...both of you...NOW! "I knew this was too easy," muttered David, as they once again followed Skinner to his office. Continued in part 3 The Round File (3/5 - Meeting from Hell) All disclaimers from part 1 still apply. Assistant Director, Walter Skinner, was not having a good day. Days which started off with meetings with the smoking man were rarely good. He didn't trust the man at all but knew that he wouldn't have made the sort of accusations he had without some hard evidence. Mondays were bad enough under normal circumstances. So far, this day was nowhere near normal. Already primed for a confrontation with his wayward agents, the interchange in the washroom had added fuel to the fire. "Shut the door," he commanded, ignoring them as he moved to his usual position behind the gleaming desk. David closed the door before moving to join Gillian. Taking the same seat he had on Friday, he was careful this time to keep his feet well away from the desk. Skinner didn't say anything as he studied both of them in turn. Taking his own seat he seemed to brace himself before opening the conversation. "We're going to pretend, for the moment, that I never saw you two in the restroom. I have neither the time or the patience to listen to any more of your idiotic excuses. Let me just warn you both that you are skating on very thin ice right now." Despite his frigid tone, Gillian and David breathed sighs of relief at being let off the hook. David immediately discarded the six alternative excuses he'd thought up during the trip from the washroom to the office. Maybe this would all be okay after all. Taking a deep breath, Skinner locked his gaze on both of them. "I would like to avoid this conversation but your blatant disregard for regulations and refusal to even attempt discretion has made that impossible. Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, are you two having sexual relations?" David and Gillian stared open mouthed at the obviously furious Skinner before turning to look at each other. Any hope of responding to the accusation in a serious manner was lost once their gazes met. Seeing the beginnings of David's grin, Gillian immediately collapsed into a fit of giggles. David, similarly overcome with laughter, barely managed to squeeze out, "Don't tell me you've been reading all that junk on the net." Gillian lost all control at this point as both of them fell back in their chairs laughing until they cried. Skinner was grateful at that moment that he was not carrying a gun as the temptation to shoot them both was overwhelming. Folding his arms he waited in silence. Realizing that their "boss" was not enjoying the joke both Gillian and David struggled to compose themselves. Wiping away the tears, David forced his expression into a more serious mode. "I'm sorry sir. I guess your question just caught us by surprise." The corners of his mouth started to twitch again but by biting the insides of his cheeks he managed to maintain control. Gillian, grateful that David was avoiding her gaze, managed to assume what she hoped was an appropriately serious expression. "The humor of this situation escapes me Agent Mulder. Perhaps you would like to answer my question instead of babbling inanities about the net." "Yes sir. I mean, no sir. I mean. . .yes, I'll answer the question. No, we are not having sexual relations. Not now, not ever." Knowing that any eye contact with Gillian would send them both over the edge again he kept his gaze locked with Skinner's. Skinner looked for any signs that his star agent was being less than truthful. Unconvinced, he turned his gaze to Gillian. "What do you have to say about all this Agent Scully?" Her control was still shaky but she couldn't resist the temptation. "Sir, no disrespect to my partner, but he's not exactly my type." "Does that mean no, Agent Scully?" "That is a definite no, sir." "Then perhaps you can explain why you spent the entire weekend in Agent Mulder's presence, including three nights at his apartment?" "How the hell do you know that?" Suddenly remembering their meeting with Krycek, David yelled, "It was Krycek, wasn't it? He really is a creep." "Who is Krycek?" responded Skinner, puzzled at this reference. "Damn, that's right. You haven't met him yet. Never mind." Determined to ignore any more comments from the obviously deranged Mulder, Skinner turned his attention back to Scully. "I'm still waiting, Agent Scully." "Well sir, you told me to take him home and put him to bed. I was just following orders." Flummoxed by her response, Skinner stared at her for several seconds before barking, "Agent Scully, when I suggested that you put him to bed I meant that you were to deliver him to the door, NOT MOVE IN!" "I'm sorry sir. I guess I misunderstood. Perhaps you could be more clear in your directions in the future." Lunging to his feet, Skinner braced his hands on the desk as he stared at both agents looking for any sign of frivolity. They both returned his stare with expressions of the utmost innocence. Seriously considering early retirement, Skinner slowly resumed his seat. "I'm going to take your word on this matter for right now. However, I cannot protect you if you insist on ignoring basic protocol. You both know the bureau's policy regarding relationships between partners. Do not imagine that your partnership is invulnerable. I strongly advise you to be more discrete in the future." Removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes, he continued, "Moving on to other matters. . .where is that report you promised me?" "It's right there, on your desk, sir" responded David, relieved to be moving on to safer ground. Picking up the stapled sheets of paper as if they were contaminated, Skinner asked, "Has the bureau run out of folders or have you just forgotten how to use them?" "Folders? Damn, that's right, they're always in folders." Gillian quickly jumped to the rescue. "Actually, we couldn't find any when we looked and I knew you wanted the report right away. Besides, this is better for the environment. Less waste and all that. . ." Wondering what he'd done wrong in a past life to deserve these two, Skinner decided to drop the subject. He read through the entire report before looking up. "Where is the expense report?" David quickly looked to Gillian as a feeling of panic overwhelmed him. "Expense report? We never did expense reports on the show." Seeing that Skinner was starting to hyperventilate again, he quickly improvised, "Ummm, there weren't any expenses this time." "Agent Mulder, your expense reports are legendary. Do you seriously expect me to believe that you spent a week in New Jersey, including a stay in the drunk tank, and there were no expenses? Hell, the bureau has replaced your entire wardrobe three times over. Don't give me this crap." "Well sir, I realize that and that's why we were so careful not to spend any money this time." "I don't know why you're doing this, Agent Mulder. However, if you choose, for whatever bizarre reason, to absorb all of the expenses yourself I'm not going to push the point. Just don't bring it in later and expect to be reimbursed." Feeling a little guilty about the continuing havoc they were inflicting on Mulder's finances, David briefly reconsidered the whole matter. Deciding that finding the receipts and documentation needed to file an expense report in that mess of an office was way beyond his skills, he opted to let the matter go. Mulder would just have to straighten out this mess as best he could when and if he returned. Concluding that the matter of expenses was now closed, Skinner moved on to the next topic. Handing David a stack of files he said, "I have several cases here which I think might interest you. The most urgent one concerns a group of loggers who have disappeared up in the state of Washington. The Forest Service has requested our help in resolving this matter. You're booked on a 6:30 flight which should leave plenty of time for Dr. Scully to complete the Fletcher autopsy before you go. The other cases can wait until you return." Gillian, who had begun to relax, suddenly froze in her chair. Turning to David, who was looking equally panicked she whispered, "Not the bugs. . .please, anything but the bugs. Autopsy? Oh my God." "Excuse me sir, we'll be right back," said David, grabbing Gillian by the arm and quickly exiting the office. Skinner just stared, dumbfounded by their increasingly demented behavior. Gillian could hardly contain herself until the door was shut. Noticing the secretary, who was obviously watching them, David hushed her until they moved further down the corridor. "Autopsy? David, I can't do an autopsy. I know I once fantasized about being a marine biologist, but I nearly passed out when I had to dissect a frog in high school. And there is no way that I'm going to go anywhere near those bugs." "Hold on, just let me think." Several minutes elapsed. "Look, I'll take care of the bugs thing. You just worry about how to get out of the autopsy. Uh oh, I think we just ran out of time." No longer able to contain his curiosity, Skinner had opened the door and was staring at his two agents. They quickly returned to their seats in the office. David took the top folder and placed it back on Skinner's desk. "Sir, I think this is definitely not an X-File. It sounds like a simple missing persons case to me. I think it would be better left in the hands of the local authorities." "You haven't even looked at the file, Mulder. How can you possibly tell what kind of case it is?" "Sir, continued exposure to cases involving extreme possibilities has enabled me to evaluate them very quickly. I can tell from your excellent summary that this is not an X-File. I'm sure one of these other cases would be more appropriate." Opening the next folder he barely glanced at it before throwing it on Skinner's desk with the other one. Seeing his pallor, Gillian asked, "What is it?" "It's Tooms," hissed David. "That's even worse than the bugs." Offering up a silent prayer, he opened the third folder which he immediately dropped on the floor. "Oh god, it's the sewer thing. What is it about New Jersey? Why can't we do a simple alien abduction?" Skinner, now standing rigid, with his hands on his hips, stared as David practically tap danced in his efforts to avoid the files. "Agent Mulder, I am growing very tired of your behavior. I was not asking you whether or not you wanted the case." Hurling the first file at David, he continued, "I suggest that you take the time to review this file before your flight. You are dismissed." Resisting David's attempts to pull her out of the room, Gillian ran back to Skinner's desk. "Excuse me, sir?" "What is it now, Agent Scully?" "I don't think I should do the Fletcher autopsy today." Closing his eyes briefly, Skinner asked through a clenched jaw, "Why not?" "I've got a cold." "Dr. Scully, THE MAN IS DEAD! He's not going to catch your cold." "No sir, of course not. It's just that with my resistance being down and all, I might catch something from him." Gillian was obviously floundering at this point and looked close to tears. Feeling the beginnings of an ulcer developing, Skinner shouted, "Get out of my office. Both of you. Go do your jobs right now or I swear I'll put you both on wiretap detail for life. I don't want to see or hear from either of you until that case is resolved." Deciding that this would not be a good time to mention that the wiretap option sounded very attractive, they gathered together the files and left the office. As David closed the office door he noticed that Skinner was busy wrestling with a container of aspirin. Continued in part 4 The Round File (4/5 - The Plot Thickens) All disclaimers from part 1 still apply. "David, admit it, this isn't going to work. I need to get off of this thing before I throw up." "Come on Gillian, hang in there. Just one more trip." "No, this is stupid. We've been up and down this elevator six times now. People are getting suspicious." David glanced at their fellow passengers, who did indeed appear to be more than mildly interested in their conversation. As the door opened on the second floor, two young women quickly exited, breaking into giggles before the door had closed. The only other remaining passenger kept his eyes firmly fixed on the floor readout while standing as far away from them as possible. Gillian immediately hit the button for the first floor with a look that brooked no interference. "Fine, have it your way. I was just trying to save you from the dreaded autopsy," David sulked, hurrying to catch Gillian as she rushed from the elevator. "David, I already told you. I'm not going to do any autopsy. I don't care if Skinner fires us. I hate this job. I'm going back to Vancouver." "Gill, we've already been through this. There is no point in going back to Vancouver. Nobody we know will be there. Our only way home is through the elevator and we've got to keep these jobs to have access to the elevator." "Why are you so sure that the only way home is through the stupid elevator? We're practically collecting frequent flyer miles on the damn thing and in case you haven't noticed, we're still in Washington. And don't you dare spout that Star Trek junk at me again." Firmly believing that the elevator idea was correct, David struggled to come up with a valid argument to support his hypothesis. "Christ, now I know how Mulder must feel. Not everything can be proven scientifically, Gillian. Can't you just accept it? Besides, I haven't heard you coming up with any better ideas.?" "Just because I haven't come up with my own solution doesn't mean I have to accept yours." "Okay, let's agree to disagree for right now. Anyhow, I think I've come up with a way to get you off the hook on the autopsy. All we've got to do is figure out where the morgue is," said David heading over to the building directory. It took less than a minute to determine that the answer to the morgue's location was not going to be found on the directory. Abandoning that tactic, David sauntered over to the receptionist at the front desk. Quickly reading her nametag, he turned on the charm and asked, "Bonnie, maybe you can help us with something. Agent Scully and I were just having an argument about the quickest way to get to the morgue from here. What would you suggest?" The extremely attractive brunette looked up at him from under the thickest lashes he'd ever seen. With a sensuous pout she drawled in silky tones, "I'm not talking to you Mulder. You know how I hate to wake up alone. I warned you last time that it was going to be trouble if you did that to me again." Reaching over the counter and adjusting his tie she continued, "You've been a very bad boy and I'm going to have to think up an appropriate punishment." Feeling like he'd just stepped into the middle of a minefield, David struggled to come up with a response. It didn't help that his head was whirling with enticing visions of possible punishments. Resisting the temptation to inquire further regarding the exact nature of the discipline she had in mind, he attempted to steer the conversation onto safer ground. "Can we talk about that later Bonnie? Alone," he hinted, with a quick glance at Gillian who was watching the whole interchange with a definite smirk. "Maybe I don't want to talk. You know what they say. . . actions speak louder than words." She slowly ran her finger over her lips before continuing, "How about you come by my place at eight and we'll discuss it further." From the purr of her voice David figured it was going to be one wild discussion. "Sure," he gasped, anxious to get away from her before he totally embarrassed himself. Abandoning the effort to elicit directions to the morgue he quickly turned to leave. "Muuulderrr." "Yeah?" "Don't forget the cuffs." "Uhhh, the cuffs. . .right. . .no problem." Ignoring Gillian, who was doubled over in laughter, David took his chance and fled the building. Gillian followed at a slower pace, still laughing as she wiped tears from her eyes. "Oh god, David, maybe I better stop telling Mulder to get a life. It sounds like there's a whole side of this guy that Chris has left undeveloped. Of course, we may need to rename the show, the Sex Files." Still reeling from his own reaction to Bonnie, David refused to be drawn into any further discussion of Mulder's sex life. Perry would kill him if she knew the direction his thoughts were heading and he seriously doubted that she'd buy an alternate universe excuse. "Just drop it, okay. Let's see how you do trying to find the morgue, Miss Smarty Pants." Thirty minutes elapsed before they found their way to the morgue. The doors swung open soundlessly as David and Gillian crept into the large empty room. "I can't believe you wouldn't even try to ask someone else for directions. One little problem and I get stuck doing all the work," hissed Gillian, totally fed up with her partner's continuing silence. "Hey, you're not the one who has a date with Barracuda Bonnie. I'm afraid to talk to anyone else. Maybe she's not the only fling he's got going. Handcuffs? Shit, Gillian, maybe the stories on the net aren't so crazy after all." "Well, you could have asked one of the men couldn't you? Oh, never mind, I know how you guys are about asking each other for directions." "Why are we whispering?" "Because this place is creepy. Are you going to let me in on this little plan of yours now?" asked Gillian as she followed David around the room trying to avoid looking at the stainless steel tables and assorted jars. "Look Gillian, I think this is a brain. Cool." "That is not 'cool'. That is disgusting. Can we please just do whatever it is you expect us to do and get out of here before somebody finds us." "Sure, no problem. Looks like this is the right one," said David, stopping in front of a stainless steel drawer marked 'Fletcher'. As he reached for the drawer pull, Gillian grabbed his hand. "Wait, don't open that. There could be anything in there. What if it's one of those really gross corpses like we have on the show? What if some face eating mutant got it?" Gillian, if we're going to hide the body, we've got to open the drawer to get it out." "WE'RE GOING TO WHAT THE BODY???? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" "Sssshhhhhh, someone will hear you. Listen, it's a really good plan. We'll just hide the body in one of these other drawers and then tell Skinner you couldn't find it. You can't do an autopsy on a body if it's missing." Gillian studied his face for a long minute, looking for any sign that he was kidding. He just stared back at her with no apparent appreciation of the lunacy of what he was suggesting. "You are seriously demented. I can't believe I'm even listening to you say this stuff. We could get in a lot of trouble." David sighed in exasperation. "In case you haven't noticed, I think our current situation goes way beyond the normal boundaries of 'a lot of trouble.' Unless you've got a better solution, like maybe suddenly becoming a forensic expert and actually completing this autopsy, I think you'd better just shut up and help me with this." Her eyes darted to the closed doors as if hoping an alternative solution would magically appear through them. "Maybe the elevator idea wasn't so bad after all." Seeing his eyes lighten at her attempt at levity, she sighed and motioned with her head that he should go ahead and open the drawer. The drawer slid open easily revealing a black, zippered body bag, obviously full. They both relaxed, relieved to be saved from the unpleasant experience of having to actually look at the dead body. David, moving quickly, opened another drawer several columns away from the one marked Fletcher, in preparation for the transition. With an encouraging smile to Gillian, he gripped the side of the body bag closest to him, motioning that she should take the other side. "On the count of three. One, two, three." The body was much heavier and considerably more awkward than either of them had anticipated. They were both sweating by the time they managed to shift it to the other drawer. Eager to be done with their gruesome chore, they pushed both drawers closed. Suddenly the doors to the morgue flew open as a young man, who looked all of sixteen, fell through them. "Ooops," he murmured, as his face flushed from pink to red. "I was just checking the door catch and I, uh, slipped. That's right, I slipped. Maintenance and all that you know." With no further explanation, he clambered to his feet and quickly fled the room. By the time Gillian and David reached the door, the kid was nowhere to be seen. Chalking this interchange up to just one more bit of weirdness in their already maniacal existence they trudged back towards the elevator. "Gillian, I'm really hungry. What do you say we go get some lunch?" Gillian stopped, staring unbelievingly at her partner. "How on earth can you be hungry after what we just went through? I don't think I'm ever going to eat again." "I don't know how, I'm just hungry and not for any of that fancy restaurant crap either. I want some real food. You know, McDonald's, Burger King, something like that." "I can't believe you're saying this. You never eat that junk. What has gotten into you?" "I think it's more a matter of what I've gotten in to if you know what I mean. This body doesn't seem to be interested in following my health food regime. It needs some grease and the sooner the better." "Fine, far be it from me to stop you from trashing what looks like a perfectly fine body. You're the one who's got to live in it after all. I think there's a burger joint across the street." As they headed out David stopped, suddenly remembering something. "Uh, Gillian, stop me if I'm wrong but last time I checked McDonald's didn't take Visa." "Don't you have any money?" "No, I gave my last twenty to the cabbie. Check that purse again will you?" "Don't make me look again. You know I've dumped everything out of here at least five times. I can't believe Scully didn't have any cash. I'll bet Mulder borrowed it all from her." "Hey, don't go trashing my character. He's the one who's been paying for everything so far." Laughing at David's offended expression and the absurdity of defending some fictional character they'd never even met, Gillian dug a wallet out of the purse. "Hey, I've got an ATM card. We can use that to get some money." "I've got one too, genius. There's only one small problem with that. How are we going to figure out the PIN?" "Maybe we'll get lucky. I did pretty well with the password on the computer. Look, Scully's got a phone number written on the back of her checkbook here. That's how I keep track of my PIN. The number's probably in this phone number. We'll just try different combinations until we get the right one." "Sounds good to me. Let's find an ATM." The temperature had climbed into the high nineties and they both felt decidedly wilted by the time they reached the ATM. Inserting the card, Gillian tried one combination of numbers after another. On the third attempt the machine ate the card. Gillian turned to David in exasperation, "How can they do that? I mean, lots of people probably have to make more than three tries to remember their PIN. I'm always forgetting mine. How am I going to get the card back?" "You probably just have to go in the bank and show some ID but I don't think we should mess with it. Let me try Mulder's card instead." Since Mulder hadn't left any phone numbers or notes in his wallet that might provide a clue as to the number, David just punched in random numbers. In less than two minutes, the machine had devoured Mulder's card as well. They both stared at the machine in silence for several minutes, hoping that the cards would magically reappear. Resigning himself to another restaurant meal, David grabbed Gillian's arm and headed across the street. "Remind me never to swap places with a guy with a photographic memory again. This is the pits. I'm sure glad I'm not going to be here when Mulder gets back. He's going to be seriously pissed." An hour later, as the couple headed back to the office, the young man from the morgue hurried to beat them into the building. Flying down the basement stairs he rushed through the corridors to an unmarked door. Krycek looked up from his magazine as the door flew open with a clatter. "Shit, where'd you learn that move?" Looking up into the young agent's embarrassed face, he thought, "Jeez, they're snatching 'em right out of the cradle these days. This kid looks like he's still in high school." "Sorry," the 'kid' responded, struggling to catch his breath, "I wanted to warn you that they're on their way back. You better get ready." Sighing at the youth's eager enthusiasm, Krycek reached out for the packet the kid was holding, "Is this what I think it is?" "Yeah, they haven't figured out everything yet but the boss said to tell you that this stuff is solid." "Fine, message received. Anything else?" He was eager to get rid of the kid so he could review the contents of the envelope. "Ummmm, yeah, they haven't done much since they left Skinner's office. For some reason they went all the way up and down the elevator six times before they got out in the lobby. Then they stopped at the receptionist's desk but I couldn't hear the whole conversation. It sounded like Mulder and the receptionist were making a date but then she told him to 'bring the cuffs' so I think I must have gotten it all mixed up." Wondering how anybody could reach his twenties and remain so innocent, Krycek shook his head as he pushed an open notebook across the desk. "Just add her name to the list for all the good it will do us. If he holds true to form, she'll be history by the time we finish the background check." The kid did as instructed, marveling at the length of the list. "Wow, did he actually date all these women? I mean like, that's amazing. What do you think she wants the handcuffs for?" "Idiots, they're sticking me with idiots. I hate this job," snarled Krycek. "Look, just finish your report and get the hell out of here. " Squirming under Krycek's glare the kid stuttered through the rest of his report. "I ran into a little problem with the surveillance after that. I followed them to the morgue and I was trying to hear what they said through the doors when I sort of slipped and. . .well. . .I guess you could say, I sort of fell into the room with them." Krycek sagged disbelievingly in his chair as the kid continued, "But I think it's okay, really, 'cause I made up a good excuse and got out of there right away and I'm sure they didn't notice me after that. They spent a lot of time at the ATM and then went to Denny's for lunch. And like I told you, they'll be back in the office any minute." "Please leave," muttered Krycek, incredibly weary, "and try not to trip over them on your way out." As the kid closed the door, Krycek turned his attention to the packet in his hands. Tearing it open he quickly scanned the pages before throwing it down on the desk in disgust. "What a load of crap," he swore before picking up the document again to review it more carefully. "Feed the dog/Blue" = leak information to the press, probably the Lone Gunmen "What about my baby?" = refers to information Agent Scully must have on her abductors "Feed the fish" = supply false information regarding their activities to Skinner "alternate universe" = the bugged premises requiring that they speak in code "equipment she needs" = Unknown, possibly referring to necessary surveillance equipment or ID kits. Piper/Clyde/referring to themselves in the third person/second season: We have not yet deciphered these comments. Notify us regarding additional information as it becomes available. Throwing the report back onto the desk, Krycek quickly placed the headphones back on as he heard the tape machine start. Continued in part 5 The Round File (5/5 - The Journey Home) All disclaimers in part 1 still apply. "I can't believe you made me eat at Denny's. I thought the brain in the jar was disgusting. That was truly gross," Gillian declared as they made their way into the office. "Hey, it was okay. I mean it wasn't McDonald's or anything but it was pretty good just the same." "McDonald's is the standard by which we're now measuring culinary excellence? That's it. I'm not letting that body of yours pick any more restaurants. From now on I'll chose." "Yeah, whatever," muttered David as he hurried across the office to grab the ringing phone on Mulder's desk. In his haste to reach the phone he accidentally knocked a two foot high stack of files onto the floor. Ignoring Gillian's sigh at this further contribution to the general clutter of the office, he answered the phone, carefully setting his cup of coffee on the corner of the desk. "Agent Mulder, hasn't Dr. Scully finished that autopsy yet? Where's the report?" David covered the mouthpiece before whispering to Gillian, "Shit, it's Skinner. He wants a report on the autopsy. Doesn't this guy have anything better to do with his day than read reports?" Seeing from Gillian's shrug that she wasn't going to be any help on this one, David turned his attention back to the phone, "Sir, we had a little difficulty with that assignment. The body wasn't in the drawer so I'm afraid Dr. Scully was unable to complete the autopsy. I think this is another case of forces within the government trying to impede our investigation." Gillian reached out and tried to grab the phone away from him while she whispered furiously, "What are you saying? I thought you were going to be serious. He'll never believe that." David yanked the receiver out of her grasp, accidentally knocking his cup of coffee across Mulder's desk in the process. Scowling at Gillian, he turned his attention back to the phone call. The silence at the other end of the phone was deafening. "Ummm, sir, are you still there?" "YES, I'm still here. The question is whether either one of you is going to be here for much longer." Another period of long silence was broken by a sigh, "Just make sure you file a Missing Body Form before you leave for Washington." "Yes sir, we'll take care of that right away," assured David, before hanging up the phone. Gillian, meanwhile, was doing her best to remove the worst of the coffee mess from Mulder's desk. "Don't blame me for this mess," she exclaimed turning the slide projector upside down to drain out the coffee inside. What looked like hundreds of coffee saturated slides came sliding out with the liquid, dropping in clumps on the desk and the surrounding floor. "You shouldn't have left the cup sitting there like that. Damn, it's in the drawers and everything. Did you have to get the jumbo size?" David reached out to help, snatching the red cloth she was using from her hands. "Stop your griping. I made the mess. I'll clean it up." He shook out the cloth, attempting to find a corner of it that wasn't already saturated, splattering Gillian, himself, and everything in a ten foot radius with little drops of coffee in the process. Gillian glared at him for a moment before she grabbed at the cloth in an effort to reclaim it before he could do any more damage. A tug of war ensued, finally ending when the cloth ripped, leaving both parties collapsed on the floor. Gillian grabbed at Scully's desk on her way down, in an effort to break her fall, but only succeeded in pulling the computer monitor down with her. David scrambled to his feet, knocking file folders out of the way, and rushed over to make sure she was alright. "Oh, Gillian, I'm really sorry. Are you hurt?" It took him a moment to realize that the reason she was shaking so hard was that she was laughing hysterically. Reaching out a hand he helped her to her feet. "Oh god, David, look at this mess. I can't believe we did that." David started to chuckle, surveying the broken monitor and the mounds of coffee saturated slides and files. "Do you think we should leave them a note or something? Wait, I know what to do. I'll write a check to cover the damages," he exclaimed, pulling Mulder's checkbook out of the puddle in the desk drawer. He slid back down to the floor, clutching his side and gasping with laughter. He suddenly realized that he was still holding on to his share of the coffee saturated rag. Reaching out to throw it in the garbage can he suddenly stopped laughing. "Oh shit, Gillian, where did you get this from?" "It was on the back of Mulder's chair," she answered, still struggling to compose herself. "Why?" David spread out the rag on the floor exposing the lettering. REDSKINS was clearly stamped in large letters across what had apparently been a football jersey in its former life. "Oops," murmured Gillian, looking decidedly sheepish. "Do you think he'll miss it?" David just buried his head in his hands, wondering if their counterparts in this travesty could possibly be creating this much chaos in Vancouver. "David, forget the jersey. It's history unless you want to try stapling it back together. What did Skinner say?" "He says to make sure we file a 'Missing Body Form.' I guess this isn't the first time this has happened." "You mean he bought that BS about the 'government forces impeding our investigation?'" Where on earth do you get this stuff from anyhow?" "Hey, I thought that was pretty clever. Mulder probably gives him crap like that all the time. What's that line about messing with their heads? Actually, this is a lot like improvisational theater. I'm kind of getting into it." "You are one sick puppy," she chuckled, marveling at his ability to find a positive side to their predicament. "Are you sure he said a Missing Body Form? You have got to be kidding. Even the government can't have such a form." "Hell, you're the computer whiz. Check it out." Seating herself at Mulder's computer, Gillian searched the directories for forms. "Whoa, this is weird. There's one here for 'Bodies'. Select human, animal, alien, mutant, or undetermined." She hit the key for human. "Male or female? I don't know, we didn't look. What do you think?" "Well, statistically there are more women than men but the body was pretty big. I vote male. Wait, I know it was male. Remember, Skinner said, 'The man is dead.'" Punching in 'male', Gillian moved on to the next question, "Select missing, dead, abducted, kidnapped, mutilated, partial, other:" They continued through the form, guessing at most of the responses having to do with descriptive characteristics, until they reached the end. "Who should we send it to David? There's about a zillion choices here." "How about 'select all'? Then everybody who needs it is guaranteed to get a copy." David punched in the choice, noticing as he did that the computer started to click like crazy. "Shit, I hope that's ok. It seemed like the logical choice." The paperwork completed, a feeling of depression settled over the couple. "Gillian, I don't know about you, but I'm feeling like if I stay here much longer there's not going to be any me left. I think I'm turning into Mulder. We have got to figure out how to get home." She debated not answering, reluctant to concede that she'd finally bought into his theory. "I've been thinking, David. When we first got here we were alone on the elevator. We haven't been alone on the elevator since then. Maybe it won't work if other people are with us." Pushing more of the clutter off Mulder's desk to make room for his feet, David leaned back in his chair. "That's not a bad idea, Gill. Now we've just got to figure out how to keep everyone else off the elevator for awhile." Suddenly abandoning the chair, he rocketed to his feet and started to search the office, throwing things wildly off of the shelves. "I know there's got to be some here." "What are you looking for?" asked Gillian as she watched David destroy the little remaining order. "That yellow crime scene tape. . .Great, I knew they'd have it," exclaimed David having finally found a roll buried in a box in the corner. "Come on, Follow me." Krycek nearly strangled himself in his haste to remove the headphones. Throwing them on the desk, he jumped to his feet and started to pace. Pacing soon grew frustrating as the eight foot span between the walls left little room for him to walk. His instructions had been quite clear. He was to stay in the room and monitor any conversations from their office. Somehow, Krycek didn't think his superiors envisioned anything quite like the interchange he'd just heard. "Go? Stay? What the hell am I supposed to do now?" he swore, kicking a cardboard box of tapes out of his path. "What the hell does he want with crime scene tape and what on earth were they doing in there? God, now he's got me talking to myself." He moved to the door and slowly eased it open, checking to make sure the corridor was clear before he exited. Careful to stay close to the wall, he made his way towards the elevator, peering around the corner to see if they had gone yet. Jerking his head back suddenly he accidentally slammed it into the wall. "Shit," he whispered to himself, rubbing the sore spot, as he tried to make sense out of what he'd just seen. Gillian stood at the side of the elevator, holding her finger firmly pressed to the 'Door Open' button, as she watched her partner in amazement. Not only had he resisted all her attempts to restrain him from this folly, he had somehow managed to talk her into assisting. "Do you practice that 'wounded puppy' look in front of the mirror?" she'd asked, finally conceding defeat. David just grinned and explained what he needed. Her job was to hold the door open so the elevator would remain in the basement until he was done. David immediately set to work crisscrossing the door with the crime scene tape, alternating between the top and the bottom, pausing occasionally to loop the ends through the railing which circled the interior of the car. Apparently deciding that one or two strands would be insufficient to his needs, he was busy weaving a complex pattern that would leave most spiders green with envy. Gillian sighed with relief when the roll of tape ran out after the fifteenth pass, effectively ending the exercise. Throwing the empty roll back into the hallway, David signaled to her to release the button. Before she could comply, his hand reached out to stop her. "Wait, don't let go yet. We've got to figure something out first. Were we going up or down when we arrived in this universe?" "What do you mean were we going up or down? We were on an elevator that didn't go anywhere. Our only options were open and close." "No, no, you're missing the point. I know our elevator didn't go anywhere. What was this elevator doing when we got here?" "It was stopped at the sixth floor. Remember, we arrived just before the door opened." "OK, then that's our goal. Sixth floor here we come," cried David, as he punched the button for the sixth floor. "I think I've got this situation all under control now." Looking at the maze of crime scene tape and the coffee stains covering his suit, Gillian remained skeptical. The elevator moved smoothly upward until it reached the first floor. The doors opened despite David's frantic efforts to keep on shutting them with the 'Door Close' button. A large crowd of people stood waiting impatiently for the elevator. They stared with open mouths at the couple and the crime scene tape. David and Gillian breathed huge sighs of relief as the doors started to close. The relief was short lived. A hand suddenly blocked the closing doors. "What the hell is going on here, Mulder?" Colton yelled, obviously pissed. "Get this tape out of my way." His efforts to enter were unsuccessful as the sticky tape resisted his attempts to remove it from his path while still managing to stick to his suit. "Sorry, no can do," responded David, kicking at Colton's foot which was blocking the door. "As you can see, this is a crime scene. No entry allowed until all the evidence is collected." Gillian stood quietly observing at his side, content to let David try to dig them out of this mess he'd created. "What fucking crime scene, you asshole? The only crime I see is that you've somehow coaxed your partner into joining you in the loony bin." David, seemingly unperturbed by this outburst, responded in calm tones, "This elevator is already at capacity. There's no room for any more passengers." "Bullshit," screamed Colton, going red in the face. The rest of the crowd watched the exchange in awe, clearly enjoying this diversion from the Monday routine. "No, it's true. You probably can't see them because you're not open to extreme possibilities. They're all invisible." With a final kick and a strong shove, David knocked the flustered Colton to the ground. The doors slid closed before he regained his feet. Just before the doors slammed shut they heard Colton shout, "You jerk, serves you right that your car got towed. I hope you never get it back." Gillian and David sagged against the far wall in exhaustion. "You don't suppose it's going to stop at every floor do you?" Gillian groaned as she felt the elevator start to slow once more. David's initial delight that all he'd have to deal with at this stop were two women turned to terror when he recognized one of the women. "Bonnie, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be on the first floor." Leaning against the door frame, effectively blocking Gillian's efforts to close the door, Bonnie surveyed the scene with obvious fascination. "Soooo, Muuullderrr, what kind of crime are you investigating?" The blond who had been waiting with her giggled and whispered something in Bonnie's ear. Bonnie looked quickly from her friend to David before her eyes settled on Gillian. Turning her attention back to her friend she snapped, "You told me that was at night. Even he wouldn't try that during the middle of the day when Skinner's around. He's kinky but not that kinky." David looked to Gillian in a panic at this latest revelation of his character's idiosyncrasies. Neither of them had any doubt what the "that" was to which the two women were referring. David wondered how many more of Mulder's old flames he was going to have to deal with before they got out of here. Despite the urgent need to displace the woman and get the elevator moving again, David found himself reluctant to go anywhere near Bonnie. "You bastard," she hissed, suddenly turning her attention back to him. "You told me there was nothing going on between you and Dana. I should have known better." Gillian decided at this point that she'd had her fill of Bonnie and company. Planting her foot on Bonnie's well rounded derriere she gave a firm push. Bonnie went sprawling as the elevator doors closed once again. "Way to go, Gillian. I didn't know you had it in you," David chortled, delighting in this whole new side of his co-worker. "You showed her who was boss." Shaking her head, she responded, "Well, it was pretty clear who wasn't the boss. I think we'd better get you out of here before these women eat you alive. It appears that Mulder plays in a whole different league than what you're used to. These aren't screaming teenagers asking for autographs." The digital readout quietly clicked from 2 to 3 with no sign of stopping. "Wow, Gill, look at that. We made it past the third floor, no problem. Maybe this will work out after all." No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the elevator began to slow again. "Thanks a lot, David. Don't you know you're tempting fate saying things like that?" Preparing themselves for the worst, they waited for the doors to open. The little, grey-haired lady who greeted them seemed to be unfazed by the complex tapestry of crime scene tape and the sight of the rumpled, coffee stained passengers. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, I was just coming to your office to deliver your tickets. You've saved me a trip." She reached through the tape, handed David a packet of airplane tickets and left without a backward glance. Gillian and David stared at each other in disbelief as the doors closed once again. The elevator had barely resumed its upward progress when David suddenly reached out and hit the Emergency Stop button, setting off the alarm. "I can't take this anymore, Gill. I'm never going to be able to get in an elevator again. I think this isn't quite as under control as I hoped." He sank to the floor utterly exhausted. "Come on, David. How much worse can it get?" The look in his eyes said it all. "Never mind, don't answer that question. What do you propose we do instead? We can't stay here forever. That bell will drive me crazier than you do." She joined him on the floor, reaching out to take his hand in hers. David shrugged, fighting the urge to give up completely. "Can't we just rest here for awhile? I don't know about you but I'm beat." "Sure," replied Gillian patting his hand. "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you write a note to Mulder and explain everything? Otherwise, he's going to be really confused when he gets back." Since it made a welcome diversion from their current situation, David rapidly agreed to the plan. Gillian dug some paper and a pen out of her purse and handed them to David who immediately started to write. "Oh, be sure to tell him how much I like the sweater and give him the name of that little cafe we found." David laughed at the vision of Mulder's reaction to Gillian's comments but made the notations as requested. He was just winding up the letter when the cell phone in Scully's purse started to ring. Unsure of what to do Gillian decided to answer it, figuring she could always claim it was a wrong number. "Hello," she answered tentatively. "Agent Scully, what the devil is going on?" She groaned, recognizing Skinner's voice. "Going on? What do you mean sir?" "I've got people screaming at me right and left about you two. Where the hell is Mulder? His cell number keeps saying the user is unavailable." "Umm, I think that's because his phone broke, sir. He hasn't had a chance to replace it yet." "AGAIN? THE BUREAU CAN'T AFFORD TO REPLACE THOSE DAMN PHONES ALL THE TIME. PUT HIM ON THE PHONE RIGHT NOW!" David initially resisted Gillian's efforts to hand him the phone, having heard Skinner clearly from across the elevator in spite of the continuing racket the alarm was making. The look on her face decided him. Skinner on the phone was definitely preferable to dealing with Gillian pissed in person. Quickly tucking the letter into his pocket he took the phone. "Hello?" "Agent Mulder, what the hell do you mean sending that bloody form all over the place?" Momentarily confused as to what Skinner was referring to, David struggled to come up with a suitable response. Suddenly remembering the clicking computer he answered, "Well, I wanted to make sure everyone who needed a copy got one." "Since when does the President need copies of Missing Bodies reports. You know better than to hit 'all'. You sent that damn form to every government office in the country. I just got off the phone with the MIS director. He's screaming for your head. Do you realize what this is costing the bureau? Not to mention the fact that the CIA is now in on it and setting up there own investigation to find Fletcher." David was flabbergasted. The elevator was beginning to seem like a very cozy place compared to the possibility of having to deal with Skinner in this state. Gillian, having overheard the whole diatribe, waited anxiously to see what David would say in response. "I'm sorry, sir. I guess I made a mistake," answered David, deciding to try the honest way out. Somehow any attempt to come up with another explanation failed him. He could hear some background disturbance at Skinner's end of the connection. "MULDER," Skinner yelled, nearly breaking David's ear drum. "What is this nonsense Colton's telling me about you blocking the elevator with crime scene tape? Do you have any idea what sort of disciplinary action you're looking at here?" Groaning as he realized that Colton must have taken the stairs to the sixth floor, David responded, "Not really sir. Does it have anything to do with a woman named Bonnie?" Not waiting for Skinner's reply he severed the connection, dropping the phone on the floor. "We're doomed. We're never going home. Skinner's going to put me in a cell with Tooms, the bugs, and the sewer slug. I can see it all now. My life is over. God, what I wouldn't give right now for some simple problems like overzealous fans." Gillian knew that he was due for the lion's share of Skinner's wrath and sympathized with his plight but was growing increasingly anxious to get the elevator moving again. "David, we have to get going." "No we don't. We don't have to go anywhere. I'm staying here forever." She stomped her foot, frustrated with his continuing obstinence. Ignoring his protests, she turned the Emergency Stop button to release it and hit the button for the sixth floor. David started to reach for it again but stopped when she blocked his path. "Look, I don't know any other way to say this, but I've got to go and this place doesn't have the necessary facilities." As the meaning of what she'd said hit him, he broke into a grin as he teased, "Didn't you go before we left home?" He immediately sobered as the elevator started to slow for the sixth floor. They both faced the rear of the elevator, figuring that Skinner wouldn't be so hard to take if they didn't actually have to look at him. The sudden burst of blue light caught them by surprise. Hardly daring to hope they turned to look at the elevator doors. The crime scene tape was gone. David dropped to his knees and kissed the floor of the elevator as Gillian pushed the green button. As soon as the doors opened Gillian rushed out, followed by David crawling on his hands and knees. "Cut," shrieked the director. "What are you two doing now? I quit. I can't work with these amateurs." Neither Gillian or David paid him any attention as he stomped off the set. Gillian ran past the startled crew members, headed for the bathroom. David, ignoring a camera man's attempt to talk to him, rushed out the soundstage door. In his rush to reach his trailer and check on Blue he collided with a young girl coming from the opposite direction. Stopping to help her to her feet, he reached down to pick up her glasses and the photograph that had fallen on the ground. The girl shyly placed the glasses back on her face before taking the photo from his hand. She stammered several times before she found the courage to speak, "I. . .I. . .I'm so s. . .s. . .sorry. I didn't see you and now you're probably m. . .m. . .mad. I know I'm not supposed to be here and all, but I just think you're so awesome and like, I was hoping that maybe you'd like, autograph my picture. Please." David stopped the security guard, who had suddenly appeared on the scene and was preparing to escort the flustered teenager from the lot. Taking the photo back from her trembling hand, he asked, "What do you want me to put on it?" Her eyes were shining as she responded in a quaking voice, "Could you put 'To Betsy' and sign it 'Love, David'?" "No problem," he replied, signing the photo with a flourish that ended on the Speedo. Handing it back to her, he caught her by surprise when he gently lifted her chin and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "You're like a dream come true, sweetheart." The security guard caught the swooning teenager as he left. THE END. . .or is it? Have their problems really ended or are they just beginning? What have Mulder and Scully been doing in Vancouver all this time? Can Gillian's marriage be saved? Will Mulder be able to pay his VISA bill? How will they explain the crime scene tape to Skinner? Will Krycek quit the spy business and open up a fast food restaurant in Milwaukee? Does Scully figure out how to take one of the swimsuit pictures back with her? Just what punishment did Bonnie have in mind and will Mulder get the chance to find out? Will the CIA locate the missing corpse? Will Mulder survive the loss of his precious Redskin's jersey? How long until Skinner retires? And, the sixty four million dollar question. . .just what did David put in the note to Mulder???? For answers to these and other exciting questions watch your neighborhood newsgroup. The new thriller, RoundAbout, coming to a screen near you, eventually, possibly, well there are some problems with that. . . For all the readers who have taken the time to let me know they're still waiting for RoundAbout, I present the following dilemma: I pulled off the story because I felt uncomfortable once I reached the Vancouver universe, in that it was getting too close to the real people and their lives. I wrote this before GA's divorce, etc. Real divorces aren't funny for the most part. I still haven't made my peace with the moral quandary, so at the moment it remains unfinished. Perhaps it's best that it remain that way. All email, even critical stuff, cheerfully accepted at YouKneek@aol.com