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OUTDOORS
2360 HEGAL PLACE
ALEXANDRIA, VA
SUNDAY
9:17 a.m.
There have been many things I have been subjected to in my career
which have left me near death, left irreparable wounds to my mind
and soul, and even caused me to question the humanity of my
colleagues and relatives. I have been shot at, drugged, beaten
and bound. The childhood trauma of my sister's disappearance was
only the first of many terrible things to affect me so utterly
deeply, frighteningly, and depressingly, that I adopted the
motto, "Trust No One".
In all my years as a profiler and defender of our rights and
freedoms, you could say I am ready for institutionalization or a
Purple Heart: it's a toss-up, really.
I have been regressed by a controversial therapist, bound and
gagged, subjected to horrible experiments in Tunguska, taken to
the far corners of the Earth and even slugged by someone who
looked amazingly like my partner during a wild ride in the
Bermuda Triangle, transported to the past.
Why is it that right now, as I shampoo the carpet of my car for
the twentieth time, I feel I am truly in Hell itself?
I was sitting at my desk, reading a freshly completed report, and
being a good F.B.I Agent when the whole predicament was about to
unfold. Scully walked into the office in her crisp, yet alluring
navy pantsuit, smiling away. "Hey, Mulder."
"Hey yourself, Scully." My usual reply. Oh, I had
forgotten something, and I think that's one of the reasons I'm
still suffering. But be patient, I will get to that. "So,
how was your weekend?"
"The wedding went off without a hitch, and I survived the
reception without a date."
Yes, I was supposed to let her know whether I was going to escort
her to the wedding of one of her dearest friends from college.
Oops. "Oh, I forgot, Scully," I said in my most pained
voice, and slapped my head. "After I took Mark Kendel to the
penitentiary in Seattle, I was... supposed...I was supposed to
call and say I wasn't able to go. I'm so sorry, Scully."
She was staring at the wall behind me, then gave me a glare that
would have burned down the Chrysler Building. "At least you
could have called, Mulder. We always keep in touch, just in case,
remember? And you gave your word you were going to let me know if
you were going to show. Bill freaked when I told him you were
coming. When you DIDN'T show up, he freaked again! It was
embarrassing, Mulder!"
She sunk into her chair and checked for e-mail.
"Well, I know there's no excuse for that, and I did say I
was sorry. After that little excursion, I got home five hours
after I would have been there with you, and no one answered the
phone where you were staying, so I looked through... some old...
would you believe X-Files from the late 1950's?"
She looked up from the monitor. No, she frowned. Burned a hole
right through my head with those eyes of hers. This woman can
show you her fury without uttering a word. "Well, you have a
chance to make amends, Mulder!"
"Really, Scully! That's very gracious of you. Oh, wait. What
do I have to do?" I didn't dare finish my question with the
words "for my punishment".
"I've been asked to host a birthday party for my godson, and
his mother and father won't be there this time. His great aunt is
dying, and they want to be there for her in the hospital."
"That's... I'm sorry, Scully. So, how can I help?"
"I think this occasion calls for some reinforcements, and
since I have only you because my other friend and her husband are
honeymooning in the Bahamas, it would be of great help to me if
you could be there to help host the party."
"Sure. Beats ruining my shirt in bile, being injected with
experimental antiviral, having my memory erased and losing my
gun." She's still not smiling. That is not a good sign.
She deleted a few messages, muttering something unrepeatable and
barely audible about Spam, and then the silence was broken.
"Can you really handle ten nine-year-old boys and girls,
Mulder? Because believe me, they can be a handful."
Well, I did have to think about that one. But hey, I learned
about kids that age in Developmental Psychology. Granted, it
involved very little practical work, but I did know something
about kids that age. "Yeah, I think I can handle it, Scully.
My services are available. When is this party?"
"Next Saturday afternoon. I'll pick you up and drive you
there myself. This time, our calendars are both clear, barring
the unexpected. So, don't read any weird tabloid articles your
buddies send you. You owe me big time, Mulder. Big time.
Especially since I have saved your life many times over."
"Yeah, you have. Many times over," I repeated softly,
in my most charming voice. Well, I needed the points. "For
which I am eternally grateful. Speaking of eternity, we have a
meeting with the bean counter in twenty minutes."
"Oh, joy."
"My sentiments exactly. So, that's why I have all the
receipts sorted by category this time. It'll be short and
sweet."
***
The week passed without incident. We had some re-filing to do, a
crime stats meeting and the usual briefings. There was nothing to
stop us from going to the little guy's birthday party except one
thing: Scully's car had been broken into on the Thursday night. I
drove her in to the office Friday, and we headed out to New
Rochelle, New York. We were booked into a motel by midnight, and
nothing further happened to us except a good night's sleep.
***
NEW ROCHELLE, NY
SATURDAY
11:49 a.m.
Scully and I arrived at the suburban house at noon to have lunch
with the family and help set things up for the party.
"Mulder, I'd like you to meet Jane Kirk and her husband
Ken."
While I shook their hands, Jane Kirk smiled and said, "So I
finally get to meet this gorgeous hunk you’ve been working
with.."
Scully's jaw dropped, then she promptly smiled awkwardly and
nodded. My face must have been some deep shade of red. Well, I
tried to break the ice. "So, where's the birthday boy?"
"Auntie Dana! Auntie Dana!" A brown-haired, blue-eyed
little boy ran up the sidewalk to greet us. I mean Scully.
"It's my birthday today!"
Scully knelt down and hugged the little boy. "It sure is!
And you're gonna be ten years old, Christopher!"
"You didn't forget, did you?"
"No, I didn't forget. I have the present in the car.
Christopher, I'd like you to say 'hi' to my F.B.I. partner, and
friend, Mr. Mulder."
"You work for the F.B.I.? No kidding?"
"Yes, I do. Do you play basketball?" I had noticed the
hoop over the garage door, and was itching to play.
"Sure I do. But it's my birthday today and we havta stay
clean till after lunch, and after everybody gets here. Right
Mom?"
"Right, kiddo. So come in and let's eat. We've got a lot to
do!" Jane was quite delighted to see that Scully had brought
me. I wondered whether Scully had spoken about me, or if the
woman was just glad Scully brought a tall reinforcement.
To my dismay, the Kirks were vegetarians, so it was a light but
huge serving of spinach salad generously peppered with chopped
almonds. I could have gone for at least a glass of milk, but
passed on the offer when I found out it was soy for the boy. Soy
milk. Do people dip cookies in that?
By the time we had decorated the house with balloons, streamers
and a piņata, it was nearly time for the guests to arrive, so
Christopher's parents left for the hospital. Christopher leaned
over the back of the living room couch hoping to see his first
guests arrive.
"Are you sure you're up to this?" Scully was checking
to see if I was ready to run, no doubt.
"I said I was and I am. I can do this, Scully. I'm an F.B.I.
Agent." Surely she wasn't serious.
Scully sighed and looked up at me with that doubt in her eyes.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you, Mulder, because there's
nowhere you can run now."
The doorbell rang.
We allowed Christopher to greet his guests.
"Hey! It's Adam and Sandy from across the street! C'mon,
I'll show you the neat model plane I got already!" Up the
stairs went the three boys, and Scully and I were left to answer
the door.
Three minutes later, the doorbell rang again, and Christopher
wasn't coming downstairs, so I answered the door. "Hi, c'mon
in."
A little blonde girl peered all the way up and screamed,
"It's Herman Munster!"
Luckily for me, Scully put her arm around the girl, whispered
something into her ear, and she giggled. The girls entered the
house and went into the playroom.
"What did you say to that kid, Scully?"
She tried to stifle a smirk, but lost the fight. "I told her
you were the Jolly Green Giant."
Okay. When we finally had all the guests downstairs at the dining
table, it was time to sing Happy Birthday and watch Christopher
open his presents.
"Wow! Cool! Pokemon Cards! Thanks, Greta!"
"I like you, Christopher," a shy brunette giggled.
Christopher ignored her declaration and opened his next gift. The
expression on his face pretty much said it all.
"Spiderman underpants," he said with a glum, sad face.
"Thanks, Todd".
A sad, skinny, red-haired little boy whined. "It isn't MY
fault. My Mom did it."
Scully hugged that little boy. I kind of felt for him, too.
"I'm sure your Mom meant well," she said with a smile.
"And I bet she knows Christopher likes Spiderman."
"Yeah. But not on my BUTT!" Christopher yelled.
Time for the Jolly Green Giant to step in. "Don't you think
you're a pretty lucky guy with all these friends and all the
trouble they went to get you presents?" I asked him.
"I think Spiderman's the coolest!" A little guy at the
far end of the table shouted. "And he can be on my bum any
day! He's there already!" This brought down the house.
We were about to cut the cake after Christopher made his wish and
blew out all ten candles, but Todd, the proud provider of the
underpants, ran for the bathroom and puked.
Scully pulled me aside and asked me to see if the little guy was
okay. "Me? C'mon, Scully. Don't I get enough just watching
you slice and dice at work?"
"I need to get these kids their cake and ice cream. We need
to keep things going smoothly. I'm sure it's just the
excitement."
*I can do this* I told myself. So, I bravely went to the powder
room off of the kitchen to check on Todd. He was in a bad way. I
gave him a cloth and he washed his face. Then I gave him a paper
cupful of water and he rinsed his mouth.
"Thanks, Mr. Mulder. I feel hot all over."
"SCULLLLEEEE!"
Scully bounded into the bathroom. "Mulder, what on
earth..."
She felt the boy's forehead. "I think I should find a
thermometer." She took his temperature and felt his lymph
nodes under his neck. "Well, I think he needs to be checked
out at the hospital. Todd, what's your phone number?"
As Scully took the information, I took a look at the other
children. Everyone seemed to be enjoying their cake, laughing and
calling each other "booger-head" or
"stoopid". But then another kid, a little girl, ran
into the bathroom, and that's why I'm scrubbing the carpet in my
car for the umpteenth time.
For their year-end class party the day before, the kids and their
teacher went to the nearby famous arches restaurant and had
burgers, fries, shakes, and the whole nine yards. It just so
happened that the three kids I ended up hauling to the Emergency
Ward had food poisoning. We took off as soon as the Kirks
returned home, and didn't bother looking back. I threw a blanket
over the mess on the floor in the back, and we got the heck out
of that town. Scully went to the trouble of buying me a can of
carpet shampoo, at least.
Did I mention the pants that I had to wash out six times?
Thank God I usually don't do this sort of thing. They WERE my
favorite cargo pants. Their cremation was an hour ago.
Fox Mulder. F.B.I. I chase sex offenders, kidnappers, and
oddities of nature, flukes and alien/human hybrid clones. I don't
think I'm cut out to work with children or animals. Guess I just
don't have the... uh, the stomach for it. And now Scully owes me
big time. I mean BIG TIME. This is my penance for all I've put
her through, but so help me, I will make her pay.
THE END
DISCLAIMER:
Mulder, Scully, The X-files are owned by Chris Carter, Ten
Thirteen Productions, and Fox Studios. I do not earn money from
this. I do not mean any copyright infringement. They're on
vacation, so I just want to bring them back for this story. Maybe
a few more.
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