The F-Files, by JeChant@aol.com ************************************************************ Before I officially disclaim, I'd like to warn you all that in spite of all of these fun little "vignettes", SOMETHING IS COMING. Be prepared. These characters belong to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. I am using them without permission. PLEASE write and say how you feel about it. Thanks to the people who have written, for your comments are very much appreciated. Ooh, one more thing: I wasn't too sure if my series should have a common thread, but now I have decided that they all should involve something silly.) ************************************************************ The F-Files, by JeChant@aol.com "Neila, no. No. No. No, that's... No!" Dana Scully shrieked as her dog careened into a can of paint. The can wobbled vicariously, then settled without spilling. Dana sighed as she watched the dog run off with its tail between its legs. Then, planting a firm look on her face, she marched to Neila's favorite hiding place- under a stack of freshly folded towels in the linen closet. Dana kneeled down and waited expectantly. Presently a tiny head peeked out to look sorrowfully at her. Dana had to laugh. The dog reminded her too much of a certain maverick agent she knew. A knock on the door startled her, and Neila as well. The dog shot out of the closet and ran, yapping all the way, to the front door. It then proceeded to throw itself at the door like a moth against a light bulb. Dana knew that it could only be one person. "Hello, Mulder. What are you doing here on a Sunday?" Mulder leaned against the door frame and adopted the same look that Neila had just worn. "I'm bored." "I'm not." His lower lip crept out, and Dana heaved a sigh for the second time that day. She opened the door, and he did his imitation of Kramer's patented entrance. It usually made her laugh, but today she was cross. "Don't be a moron, Mulder." Mulder turned. "My, aren't we chipper." He sniffed. "Do I smell paint?" Dana groaned. "Yeah. Neila peed on the wall, and when I was washing it I took off most of the paint." "Nobody could ever accuse you of making dull conversation, Scully." Dana looked at him squarely. "You stay, you paint. That's the deal." Mulder pouted. "I had several offers for dates tonight, you know. But instead I thought I'd see how my partner was doing-" "Bull. You wouldn't know a date if you tripped over it." Dana wore her best expression of skepticism, but in the back of her mind she wondered if he *had* been asked out. The secretaries all adored him, and his Speedo was a topic of great interest. Of course, Dana never participated in those lustful conversations. Not out loud, at least. Mulder shrugged, cheerfully accepting defeat. "Where're the brushes?" "Over here. I'll do the south wall, and you can do the north wall." "You mean the dog peed on two walls?" "I chose a new color this time. Have to do all the walls." Mulder groaned again, but was secretly pleased. It beat counting his fish. Scully was already hard at work on her wall. Mulder picked up his brush, and looked at the gray paint. An idea was forming... Dana took the roller and applied long, smooth strokes of paint to the wall. She admired her taste in colors, noting how well the gray went with the wood floors. She worked quickly, anxious to finish before Mulder. Their partnership was not a rivalry, but it always felt good to beat him at anything. Or with anything. She finished the bottom and middle, then stopped in alarm. She couldn't reach the top portion of the wall. Pulling up a chair would be humiliating, especially in front of Mulder. She turned to see how far he had gone, then stopped in shock. Covering her entire north wall was a portrait of a gray alien. Its eyes were exaggerated and large, and a UFO hovered overhead. Mulder sensed that she was looking, and spun around, a laugh on his lips. "Hey! No peeking!" Dana had to smile. "You better get that crap off my wall, Mulder." "Ooh, first pee, now crap. What next?" He realized what would logically come next at the same time as she did. She blushed and looked down, he blushed and looked up. Immediately he noticed the unfinished top part of her wall. "Hey Scully?" "Yeah?" Mulder grinned. "I always get paint all over the floorboards. Can you do the bottom part of the wall for me? I'll work on your side while you do mine." Her eyes shone gratefully. Ever since he had made that rude comment about her height, she had tried to hide it. She bought pumps with huge heels, and purposely placed things on low shelves or on their desks. She had often been teased about her height, and any reminder of it was painful. Mulder was back to his courteous, generous self, and she was relieved. Those pumps hurt like hell. She worked hard on his wall, covering up the spaceman, carefully painting the bottom, and making sure the strokes were even. When she finished, she realized her mistake at once. She had not checked on Mulder once since they had switched sides. Afraid to look, she finally turned and peeked through squinted eyes. They shot open in shock. "Mulder!" she screamed. Mulder looked up guiltily. It was his curse - he never knew exactly what was funny and what was outrageous. One look at Dana's face and he knew he had gone too far. He looked down at Neila, asleep in his arms. She now had very gray, very sticky fur. Mulder looked back at Dana. "Um... designer dogs?" he ventured. Funny, it had sounded clever in his head. Dana shook her head. "I can't be- I CANNOT believe y- how could- oh my-" She was so angry and amused at the same time that there was only one viable response. She took her paint-laden brush and smeared it on Mulder's head. Mulder stared at her in surprise. Slowly, a smile spread over his face. "Oh, Scully," he whispered, making her heart pound, "you're going to regret that." Dana shrieked, and ran through the house, Mulder in fast pursuit. * * * * * * * * * The receptionist stared at the attractive, paint-covered couple that stood in front of her. "Can I help you?" The woman held out a gray lump. "It's my dog. I think she inhaled some paint fumes, and I want to make sure she's okay." The receptionist gawked. "SOME fumes? Humph!" She clucked her tongue disapprovingly, then took out some forms. "Name?" "Dana Scully." "Dog's name?" The woman hesitated, causing the man to laugh. "It's Neila," he said. "N-a-y-l-a?" He smiled, charming even below the layers of paint. "No,no. It's "alien" spelled backwards." The woman looked at the couple again, fearing for her life. , she thought to herself. End