"Holy Alimony"
By: K. Judson (Katiefrog@aol.com)
January 28, 1997

Disclaimer: I have so mutated Chris Carter's characters that 
I can't possibly get sued for using them without permission.

Keep my name with this story or face the wrath of Agent 
Sibrava (His wrath is rather measly, but do it anyway).

Unauthorized duplication, while sometimes necessary, is 
never as good as the real thing. Thou shalt not archive 
without permission of the author (that's me!)

Author's insane ramblings: This is one of those "The Scully 
family goes to church" stories (Sort of like Earnest Goes To 
Camp, only slightly less stupid.) It is (very) loosely based 
on a wedding I was recently at. I'm about as Presbyterian as 
predestination, so I did several stupid things while at the 
Catholic service. 1.) I went up to take communion. I 
understand that you're not supposed to do that unless you're 
Catholic. In my church, you just have to be a baptized 
believer. 2.) You're supposed to do some Catholic hand jive 
when you go up to get your little piece of cardboard --sorry, 
wafer--(is it right over left, or left over right? At any rate, I 
did it wrong) and 3.) Once I had the wafer, I turned to my 
friend and said, "Am I supposed to *eat* this thing?" I did, 
and coughed loudly several hundred times trying to choke 
the sucker down. 

I'm probably being very blasphemous with this story 
(insinuating that God is a Democrat, talking about drunken 
priests, etc, etc, etc...)  So if you're offended, well, go watch 
Monty Python's _Life Of Brian_ Oh, and the "Daddy, 
Junior, Spook" thing was Paul's idea. I'm sure he'd want you 
to know. 

***********************************
"Holy Alimony"
By: K. Judson (Katiefrog@aol.com)
January 28, 1997
***********************************

Dana Scully adjusted her skirt for what might have been 
the millionth time and then fiddled with her hair again. She 
wasn't nervous, she was just... anxious. Okay, she was 
nervous. Scared to death. If she had been able to eat 
breakfast that morning, she would have thrown it up. 
Fortunately for her expensive clothing, the morning had 
been so nervewracking she'd lost her appetite. She fiddled 
with her skirt. 

If one were to go outside the room where Scully was about 
to lose her nonexistent breakfast, then upwards and a little 
to the left, depending on that individual's cosmic 
perspective, she might run into another interesting scenario 
which was unfolding...

Over the sanctuary, there was quiet. Perfect, tranquil 
silence, as though the room knew that at any moment, it 
would be simply crackling with excitement and was trying 
to take a nap beforehand. And then, from seemingly 
nowhere at all, a harsh whisper could be heard.

"Move! Move your big butt! I can't see."

It was a sharp contrast, to say the least.

"I'm trying," came the reply.

A third voice piped up. "You know, if you hadn't had all of 
that ambrosia and nectar yesterday..."

"Shut up. You just shut up. I was celebrating. This doesn't 
happen every day, you know."

"I know," said the first voice irritably, "And I'd like to see 
it, not just your behind, if you please."

The object of her annoyance heaved a great sigh and 
wriggled a bit. Had someone been watching, that person 
would only have seen a little wavering, as though the air 
was very hot, and perhaps a small cloud of dust. Then, if 
she were watching very, *very* closely, the dust would 
have parted slightly and three faces would have been 
visible, but just barely. It didn't matter, however, because 
there was no one around to see. 

The three faces looked about the room. The first one 
reached out and parted the hole with her hands. "Dad, can 
you climb through?"

The man started to climb out. A little pushing and shoving 
around the middle, and he was free. The woman climbed 
out carefully and held the opening for her other companion, 
who was able to climb out a bit more easily than the first.      

The three shades looked about the room again.

"Oh, thank God," said the thinner man, "No one's here."

"But they will be," the woman reminded him, "So let's find 
a seat." She turned to the other man. "Okay?"

He twisted a hankerchief around his fingers. "Um...okay..." 
He snuffled quietly. 

"Oh, no," said the red-haired woman, patting his shoulder. 
"Dad, I thought we were through with that. Everything's 
going to be okay. I promise."

"Do you?"

"I do."

"Okay, but...Missy, I never got to tell her I was sorry..."

"For what, Dad?" Her hand made slow, soothing circles on 
his back. She encouraged him to continue, though she 
already knew the story. She'd heard it about a gazillion 
times.

"I didn't tell her I loved her, that I was proud of her...I didn't 
tell you either..."

Melissa snickered to herself. "I never got to tell her I was 
sorry for hitting on her brutally hot partn--"

"What?"

"Nevermind. I'm here with you now. And in a way, she is 
too. We know how much you love us. Okay?"

"Okay."

The other man tapped his foot impatiently. "All right! All 
right! Come on. We're going to miss it."

"Sorry, Bill," replied the shadow of the Navy captain.

Bill Mulder cracked his knuckles. "Let's sit...over there." 
He pointed to a vacant space in the corner of the room.

"Oh, I don't know." Melissa narrowed her eyes. "I think it 
will get pretty crowded down there. Someone might bump 
into us. 

"If someone did bump into us, they probably wouldn't 
notice." Bill cracked his knuckles again.

"Bill," said Melissa, "That is so gross. How can you crack 
your knuckles when you don't really have any?"

"One of life's imponderables," he replied. "So what about 
that corner?" 

She shook her head. "Too dangerous. I've got a better idea."
 
*************************************************

"See?" asked Melissa, swinging her legs over the ledge. 
"Isn't this great?"

"I can see everything," her father replied, holding onto an 
organ pipe and leaning over the edge.

"I never liked heights," said Bill Mulder, clutching one of 
the sturdier pipes desperately. Melissa tickled him. "Stop 
it," he cried, "That is not funny!"

"I think it is," announced the elder Scully.

"You just shut up," Mulder said viciously. Melissa giggled. 
"You too," he barked.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

"Young lady," snapped her father, "I'm sick and tired of 
hearing you say that..."

"Look," she interrupted, "Someone is coming."

The three shades squinted down the aisle to the door. 
Someone was entering the sanctuary. 

"Oh, look," said Captain Scully, "A priest. I'm going to go 
try to convince him that I'm God."

"You tried that last week," said Mulder, "And it didn't 
work. Besides, you made the Big Guy pretty mad."

"If at first you don't succeed...Anyway, the Big Guy won't 
hurt me, he's always preaching that 'love your neighbor, 
pray for Welfare' stuff."

"Dad, just sit still. They'll be here any minute."

The priest continued up the aisle and went behind the altar. 
First, he looked around to see if anyone was coming. Then 
he carefully poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed 
it.

"I always *thought* they did that!" exclaimed Melissa.

"Good for the jitters," her father conceded.

Melissa started to laugh. "Remember Father Adams, from 
that church in San Francisco?"

"Oh, yes," said Captain Scully, "He was a drinker."

"Remember when he referred to the Holy Trinity as 'Daddy, 
Junior and Spook'?" 

"How could I forget? That was one of his finest moments."

"Look," interrupted Mulder, "Someone else is coming."

The priest hastily hid his glass. Frohike started up the aisle, 
crouching next to each pew and carefully looking under.

Melissa smiled. "He looks so cute when he sits like that, 
like a little toad."

Her companions stared at her for some time. "Melissa," 
said Mulder finally, "You're weird."

"I'm not weird," she protested, "I'm New Age."

"No," said her father, "You are weird."

Melissa didn't have much time to argue. People were soon 
filing through the doors, down the aisles, into the pews. 
The elder Scully saw many of his old friends and family. 
He started to get a little misty eyed again. Bill Mulder 
cheerfully chastised him until he saw an old friend and 
went all emotional. Melissa spotted her brother and 
decided to resurrect an age-old argument, since he couldn't 
hear her. "Bill," she shouted at the top of her non-corporeal 
lungs, "You're a NERD!" 

"Am not," he shouted back. Everyone froze. He suddenly 
looked shocked at the outburst, unaware of its purpose.

Melissa's mouth hung open. "I thought he couldn't hear 
me."

"He can't, not really," Mulder told her, "It's a 'brother 
reflex,' an involuntary reaction to being insulted by your 
younger sister."

"Oh."

"Bill," came a voice from down below. 

"Yes?" Melissa's father, brother, and friend all responded.

"Do you know how annoying it is that you are all named 
'Bill'? Really, people, get creative!" Melissa made a face. "I 
mean, there all these great names out there, like Moonunit 
or Ambersunshower, and a zillion people name their kids 
'Bill'! It's impossible to keep you all straight!"

Bill Mulder turned to Bill Scully. "I think she's loony 
again." Scully nodded. Melissa sat down in a huff just as 
Mulder (the younger) was starting up the aisle. (Looking 
quite devastating in a tux, the author wishes to add.)

"Wow," said Melissa under her breath, "I should have put 
the moves on him when I had the chance."

"Melissa, did you say something?"

"No, Dad, nothing. Nothing at all."

"Oh. I thought you did..."

"Nope, uh-uh, nothing, not at all, nada, zip, not me, no way, 
Jose..."

"Missy, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, of course, fine. Hey, look at Aunt Lydia! She must 
have gained a million pounds since I died!"

William Mulder was laughing to himself. "Ann looks really 
stupid. Where on God's green Earth did she get that hat? It 
looks like a goat chewed it." 

"You're right," agreed Melissa. "Oh, wow, that is so not my 
mother's color, is it, Dad? Dad?"

Captain Scully did not answer. He was crying into his 
hankerchief again.

"Dad, come on, stop it. Dad, you're going to miss Dana. 
Come on, stop it."

He looked up, sniffling. "I wanted to be here for this."

"You are, Dad."

"I wanted to give her away."

"I know, I know, I wanted to be a bridesmaid. Death sucks 
that way. But look on the bright side, those dresses are 
*really* ugly. I'd never wear it again." This thought did not 
go terribly far in consoling her father. "Oh, come on Dad, 
at least we're here, even if she can't see us."

Scully didn't answer. He was glaring down at his younger 
daughter and her intended. "I bet they've been sleeping 
together," he said darkly.

"Mmm-hmmm," replied Mulder with a touch of pride.

"You didn't know that?" asked Melissa, "Where have you 
been?" 

Her father shot her a look. "Heaven. Where have you two 
been?"

They looked at the floor. "Er, nowhere..."

"Shush!" Bill Mulder raised a hand for quiet. "They're 
starting!"

They passed the next few moments in reverent silence. 
That is, they behaved themselves until Melissa noticed that 
the soloist's fly was undone. A good laugh followed, until 
Bill Scully said, "Why were you looking there?" She 
couldn't answer.

When the congregation began to file up for communion, 
Melissa said, "Well, that's one good thing about being dead. 
I never have to eat those things again."

"I never understood how to do that hand thing," said 
Mulder, "Is it left over right or right over left?"

"Right over left, I think," said Melissa, "But I never paid 
attention in church. I always liked it when they put it right 
on your tongue. You didn't have to think about it." 

During the exchanging of the rings, nearly everyone cried. 
Even Melissa let a tear or two slip. Margaret Scully's eye 
makeup was terrifying. "She," remarked Melissa, "Has not 
yet mastered the trick of using waterproof mascara."

"Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, you have been united in holy 
alimony," said the priest, "You may kiss the broom." 

Bill Scully chuckled. "Whiskey getting to you, Father?"

"I think he meant groom," said Melissa. "Dana was always 
into that sexual equality thing."

"The sexual equality thing...I just got a funny mental 
picture," announced Mulder.

Melissa laughed. "Don't make me think about it, Bill. I am 
not thinking about it. I am not. Yes, I am. Damn!"

"What?" The joke had flown directly over Scully's head. 
Mulder and Melissa looked at the floor guiltily. "Nothing," 
they muttered. There was an uneasy silence. 

"Well, let's shove off," said Scully finally, rubbing his 
hands together. 

"But I want to stay," whined Mulder and Melissa at the 
same time.

"No."

"Come on," said Melissa, "I'll bet that bald guy is really fun 
when he gets a few drinks in him." 

Scully hesitated. "Well...okay, but you had better behave."

"We promise," they chorused.

They started to follow the crowd, at a safe distance, that is. 
"You know," said Melissa, growing serious for a moment, 
"I'm really happy for her, for both of them."

Bill Scully put his arm around his elder daughter's 
shoulders. "Me too," he whispered. "I couldn't be happier."

Dana Scully could have sworn she heard something, a 
whisper, perhaps. She turned her head to listen, but it was 
gone. 

~End~