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Disclaimer: They're owned elsewhere. No money is being made. Moose and squirrel are owned by... uh, Chris Carter? Fox? Something like that.
Notes: Er. Not really much here. Short and pointless. To blame: Timey. For keeping me up so we watched the XF two-parter the other night. And, this image? Wouldn't go away.
Beware the Leopard Special Agent Dana Scully didn't, as a rule, stay up past midnight. Her job required she be in the office early every morning. Sometimes, on the weekend she would stay up watching the late-night movies on AMC or TMC. Once in a while, a bad porno for variety. It was with relief that she would get home--usually after ten. Her partner, Fox Mulder, tended to want to spin massive theories on geological time scales around her. Her shoes would come off, and she'd walk around enjoying the feel of the alternating textures. Hard wood, carpet, tile, sometimes she'd even run a footbath and simply stand in it, happy to have the day over with. By midnight, she was in bed. On the current night, she was in bed reading. When the doorbell rang, she considered simply ignoring it. But it could have been something important. And she'd become more paranoid as time went on. Little things like being kidnapped, shot at, stabbed, stalked, and scammed tended to do that to a person. Grabbing up her big fluffy robe, she pulled it on. Then stepped into her dark purple bunny slippers. "This better," she muttered as she went through the living room, "be important." Special Agent Fox Mulder stood on her doorstep. He was wet, thanks to the rain pattering down behind him in the dark night. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the doorjam and eyed him. "I thought you might be hungry." He held up two bags that smelled faintly of good chinese food. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" "No?" "Uh-huh." She looked unconvinced. He tried his best damp puppy-dog look. "I bought General Tsao's chicken, and sweet and sour pork. And two fortune cookies." "Mulder, it's after midnight." "...Breakfast?" "It's not that late," She snorted, and finally relented. "I suppose you can come in. At least I know if that goes in my refrigerator, it won't become a new science experiment." She stepped back and accepted the bags from him. "I'll have you know," he protested as he shrugged off his jacket, "That that was for a high school science fair I was mentoring." "And the foot-high mold growing in the coffee mug behind the trashcan?" "It was named Fred." Scully snorted and walked ahead to put the containers in her fridge. Then she checked the level of water in the kettle and turned it on. "Hot cocoa or tea?" "Coffee, if you have it." "I'm out of instant." "Blecth. Don't you know that's blasphemy?" "Maybe." She pulled two mugs out, and grabbed two teabags out of a bowl of loose ones. One appeared to be PG Tipps'. The other might have been an off-brand orange peko. She didn't really care. "Sugar?" Mulder perked up slightly, and began rummaging through the cupboards. "Third door to the right of the fridge." Instructed Scully. She groaned as he pulled out a jar of nutella, and eyed it with interest. "Sugar, Mulder." "But Nutella has sugar in it." He pointed out. "That's logic from somewhere else, isn't it. Nutella does not go in tea." "But it might go in hot cocoa." "Mulder?" "Yes, Scully?" "I've changed my mind. I'm going to bed, now, you're going home." "But it's raining." "...I'll get you a pillow. Sleep on the couch." "Thank you, Scully." he said meekly. She growled. And left to do as she'd said she would. Mulder, opened the jar and stuck a finger in. "Mmmm. chocolatey-hazelnut goodness." -tbc?- © 2004 ALC Punk!. |