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Title: The Fox And The Hare Summary: Sequel to Neon and I'm Not Irish. Mulder breaks the news prematurely. To appease Scully's ire, he is talked into a very unusual favor that leads to a series of embarrassing situations. The Macleod children return -- to Mulder's dismay -- and Mulder's Easter vacation becomes an exercise in domestic survival. The characters and situations of the television program "The X-Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This work will not be distributed for profit...Hey, I don't make anything on this so let's be fair about it. Summary: This story is a follow up to Neon and I'm Not Irish. Mulder breaks the news prematurely. To appease Scully's ire, he is talked into a very unusual favor that leads to a series of embarrassing situations. The Macleod children return -- to Mulder's dismay and Mulder's Easter vacation becomes an exercise in domestic survival. Yes, this one is mainly for fun and does contain MSR. Rating: Chapter 1 PG... Mainly for language and adult situations. All following chapters will be rated individually I had to start this all over again since my hard drive was fried by lightning so I'm reconstructing a lot of this from memory. Isn't Florida weather grand? Chapter One: It's Hard To Talk With Your Foot In Your Mouth Spring was in the air. The new day had dawned bright and crisp with the sudden burst of cherry blossoms scattering their splashes of cheery pink color across the landscape like the impressionistic artistry of a Renoir painting. The memory of her early morning elation clashed vividly with the dark shadows of the hallway that led from the X-File's basement office to the real world above. In the past few weeks, Dana had managed to keep a low profile. Well, figuratively speaking anyway, she thought with a snicker as she glanced down at her well-defined protruding belly. Realizing that the gossip-mongers were having a field day, she had made it a point not to venture too far outside the office except when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, this was one of those times. She'd never liked eating in the Bureau cafeteria but Skinner's announcement of an impromptu meeting left no time for her or Mulder to get lunch anywhere else so here she was...wading into shark filled waters. At the moment, it didn't help knowing that Mulder would be along to join her as soon as he gathered up what he thought were the necessary files that Skinner would want to review. She still dreaded going in here alone. Screw it! Making sure her coat was securely fastened, Dana took a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back, and barged into the place like she owned it. So far, so good They may be talking about her behind her back but so far no one had gotten up enough nerve to actually confront her face to face. The stares and whispers were annoying but nothing she hadn't learned to live with in the past several years. Moving through the food line, Scully picked up Mulder's lunch as well as her own in an effort to save time and headed toward an empty table at the far end of the room. "Well, that explains it," a familiar voice carried over the usual lunchroom chatter. "Explains what?" another taunting voice chimed in. "Those previously unsubstantiated reports that Agent Scully has been putting on a few unsightly pounds," the first voice replied sarcastically. Looking at Sully's tray, he added, "Now we know why." Crap! For once why couldn't fate be kind? Dana hurriedly brushed by the table that was presently occupied by Agent Carter and the merry members of the Buttmunch Brigade, ignoring them as much as possible. Okay, ignoring them was easier said than done. Ignoring them usually worked, but alas, not today. Perhaps Mulder's absence from the room gave them the courage to be more obnoxious than usual. Whatever it was, she was growing tired of it real fast. Forget it, they're not worth the headache, her conscience instructed. Glaring at them briefly, Dana placed a major portion of the food on her tray in front of the empty seat across from her. "Strapping on the old feedbag, huh, Agent Scully?" Carter asked loudly, becoming more bold when his group of cronies cackled like a flock of laying hens. "I've heard it said that overeating can be construed as an outward sign of sexual frustration," he leered among the sounds of his friends' sniggering and obscene comments. That's it Dana stood very slowly, walked over to their table, still grasping her tuna fish salad in one hand. "If that were true, Carter," she smile sweetly, "you'd be a Seaworld right now doubling as Shamu." She looked thoughtfully at her plate. "You know... maybe you can help me with an experiment I've been conducting. They say that fish is a brain food..." Reaching up suddenly, she overturned the plate on his head. "Mulder and I were just debating as to whether or not it could be introduced into the body through absorption as well as by ingestion. Why don't you leave it on for a while, call me later and let me know if it works." She turned on her heel and began to walk away when she felt an iron hand on her wrist as she was spun around and shoved up against the wall. "NO ONE!! No one does that to me, you cold, fat, little bitch," he snarled from between clenched teeth.. "Let go of me," Scully hissed under her breath. "Oooo, I bet you say that to all the guys. Maybe if you lost a little weight and stopped hanging around losers like Ole' Spooky, you might see a little action. What's the matter -- Spooky can't get it up?" he sneered into her face. It was at that moment that Agent Carter simultaneously felt a sharp pain shoot through the spot between his neck and shoulder as well as Scully's heel digging into his instep. "Ahhh God!!" he cried out in startled pain as he was yanked backward off his feet and thrown face first into the wall beside Scully. "To answer your very *personal* questions, Agent Carter," Mulder's angry voice seethed, close to the man's ringing ears, "Dana gets all the action she wants and Ole' Spooky has never had a problem getting it up or keeping it there. As for your unprofessional and degrading treatment of my partner...If you ever talk to her or touch her in that manor again...you'll be blowing your nose out through your ass. Is that clear?" Mulder threw the shocked agent back into his chair with such force that his companions at the table winced in sympathy. "I've had it with this shit!" Mulder exclaimed to nobody in particular. He looked around the room at the turned heads and heard the faint whispers revolving around him and this beautiful red haired woman. He really didn't give a fuck what the bastards thought about him...well, maybe just a little...but he could see the hurt in her eyes and it made him furious knowing how cruel some people could be. She shouldn't have to endure this crap. His mind strengthened with resolve. She wouldn't have to endure this crap -- not anymore. There's no time like the present. He took a butter knife from Carter's table and rapped it loudly on a half filled drinking glass. "Excuse me...May I have your attention please?" The room became silent and expectant eyes all stared in his direction. Reaching over to Dana, he pulled her in close and hugged her gently, then turned to the crowd with blazing eyes. "Some of you seem to feel that minding our business is part of your job and the most important question in your feeble little minds appears to center around the topic of whether or not Spooky Mulder is fucking his partner. So, here's a little confession to keep the rumor mills running for at least a couple of decades. "YES!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "We are goddamn fucking each other's brains out and I for one, wanna tell you...I can't wait until we can go home so we can go through every damn position in the book...twice. I'm deliriously happy about it and will continue to please her the best that I can until the day I drop dead from fucking exhaustion. This woman is my Wife and in about five or six months will be the mother of my children. So you figure it out," he glared at Carter and smiled. "She's not fat, you stupid bastard, just pregnant...with twins. And you didn't think Ole' Spooky could get it up? Up yours, Carter. Oh by the way," a slow grin slid effortlessly to his lips, "those of you wishing to contribute a belated wedding gift...a copy of the Kama Sutra would be most appreciated." Dana's mouth dropped open in muted surprise and mild mortification. She had expected that they would have to make some kind of announcement soon due to the fact that her condition was becoming more than just a little obvious. However, this wasn't exactly the way she'd envisioned sharing their joyous news with the public at large. She considered being angry with Fox for being so ... so...Mulderishly blunt and crude but the look on Carter's face suddenly made the little bit of embarrassment she felt...worth it. Mulder was pissed. No, she re-evaluated her husband's appearance. He was beyond pissed and well on his way to a full blown meltdown of thermo-nuclear proportions. Dana felt his body tremble through their embrace as she noticed the protruding veins pulse in his temple and neck. Uh oh she thought with alarm, he's reaching critical mass and there's's no place to run for cover She sent up a quick and silent prayer for divine intervention and visibly relaxed when she noticed Mulder's tightly clenched fist experimentally loosen slowly at his side when Carter began to apologize profusely for his lack of decorum and offered his congratulations. Wondering at the agent's sudden about face, Dana caught sight of Skinner in the cafeteria doorway holding security at bay. She smiled covertly. Faced with the very likely prospect of being decked by Spooky Mulder or put on report by Skinner, Carter had opted for the easiest out available. He backed down and groveled for forgiveness. Mulder stood, tense with an overload of adrenaline coursing through his system that had been denied immediate release. His mind and body had been geared toward a confrontation and when none had occurred, he found himself in the awkward position of towering over his cowering nemesis with absolutely no idea of what to do next. Holy Christ, Mulder! he chided himself, Get a grip on the situation. Do you really want to introduce this guy to the fun world of bargain basement cosmetic surgery? Yes! Yes, he really did. Just one solid punch to that smug, loud mouth would be so...so...satisfying. ...and you would be in such trouble He pouted like a child denied his favorite cookie. Mulder slowly became aware of a gentle tug on his coat sleeve and a soft voice urging him to sit down. "Mulder, come on," Dana repeated, dragging him back to their table. "Sit down and eat your lunch," she ordered. "I know you didn't have breakfast and you're a bear when you don't eat." Yeah, right. Like food and a really hefty shot of adrenaline are a great combination for healthy digestion, Mulder pondered with resignation as he sat down at the table. Picking at his food with quiet determination, it took several minutes before he could get up enough courage to look her in the eye. Well, say something, jerk "I um...I guess I...kinda lost it," he stuttered. Oh that was good, real smooth -- subtract another 10 IQ points. At this rate he would reach idiot level in only a couple of hours. "Yes, you kinda did," she replied sternly, eying him with fabricated disapproval. She could tell by his posture and unsteady speech that he was certain he was in deep doo-doo with her and was at this very moment trying to think of a way to redeem himself. Good, she could use this little insight into his psyche as a persuasive tool to convince him to do her a certain favor that she knew he would positively balk at. Shit! She was giving him that Mulder, I'm disgusted with you' look. He hated that look, although he had to admit that this time he actually deserved it. "Look, I'm sorry I said I was fucking you...not that I'm sorry that we're fuc...I mean, just that I'm sorry I said fucking,' out loud and in front of everybody. I didn't mean it to come out that way...sounding so crude and all...What I mean is...ah shit, Dana..." he dropped his head forward and into his hands, gently shaking if from side to side. It's a damn good thing you're not in the diplomatic corps "Fox," she whispered seductively. Mulder's head jerked up immediately and he questioned her with his eyes. That was a very familiar tone. "It's Good Friday. After our little meeting with Skinner, what would you say about cutting out of here early, going home, and showing me that book you were talking about earlier. I could swear there are some...chapters that we haven't even had a chance to...experiment with yet so I want to get started early. I certainly wouldn't want you to drop dead from fucking exhaustion,' now would I?" Mulder clamped down on his impulses and gulped. "No, I don't suppose that would be advisable." Dana wasn't sure but she didn't think she'd ever seen a man eat quite so fast before. Stuffing the last bite of lunch into his mouth, he attempted to talk around it. "Ooo...duhn et, Sculry?" in the years they'd spent together, eating on the run was not an unusual pastime so she'd become proficient at deciphering this garbled conglomeration of sound that she'd fondly referred to as Mulderese.' In fact, she'd become very proud of the fact that she usually knew what the hell he was saying when others just stood around scratching their heads in confusion. "Yes Mulder, I'm almost done. You're not in any kind of hurry to leave, are you?" "Ooo meh?" he asked, the sound muffled by a mouthful of turkey club sandwich. "No, I'm talking to your evil clone," she shot back snidely. Mulder gulped his ice tea to help wash down the rest of his food. "And you're going to sit there and tell me that you're not just a *teensy weensy* bit anxious about staying in this fishbowl while all those gossipmonging eyes drill holes in your back?" he whispered hoarsely. "Not in the least." She smiled seductively. Uh oh...what's this all about? He was very cognizant of that little familiar smile. Oh Lord, she was going to make him pay -- big time--for acting like some kind of comic book super hero. Yeah...some superhero he was. Superman would have never announced to a roomful of prickheads that he was porking Lois Lane no matter how torqued he was. Nope. He was in trouble and Dana had nothing to lose. He'd already blown any chance of making a *dignified* announcement so he was more than certain that he'd be paying for this little mishap through the nose. Good thing his was big enough to handle the extra pressure. "In fact, Agent Mulder," she purred erotically, "I think we should really give them something to talk about." "Huh?" Mulder squeaked and swallowed nervously. This was not the reaction he'd expected. He was prepared for her anger, not for this totally un-Scully-like proposition he detected barely hidden in her words. It would be completely unprofessional. Well, all right, pinning that overgrown, motherfucking troll, Carter, to the wall wasn't exactly acceptable executive behavior either. Might as well go for a record, chump "Dana," he ventured cautiously, "I think I'll just consider myself lucky that you're having twins." "Oh? And why is that, Agent Mulder?" "Because after this, leaving the AD's office with my manhood intact will be a miracle no less impressive than the parting of the Red Sea." "To get to that" she leered with a downward glance, "he'd have to get by me first -- and in case you haven't notice, getting by me hasn't been easy lately." "It's nice to know you have my best interest a heart...dear." He smirked. "I guarantee my motives are purely selfish." She smiled. "And by the way, why would you want to feed the rumor mill anyway? I've just informed the general Bureau population in this room that we've been screwing like rabbits and I've managed, against all odds, to impregnate you with twins," he gasped, running out of breath. "What the hell more could they possibly need to talk about?" "This," she growled deep in her throat as she leaned across the table, grabbed his pink cow tie and pulled him forward to meet her lips. "I want you, Agent Mulder." Her breathy voice tickled the tiny hairs in his right ear, sending shivers down his spine and urgent messages to an already engorged body part that was reacting in an inappropriate manor considering their situation and location. Shit. So this is my punishment for behaving rashly and spilling the beans? He'd have to do something fast or he'd be spilling' a lot more than beans. Dana grinned. She didn't have to look under the table to know what was happening here. The fire in his eyes contrasted too drastically with the rigid control he'd placed over his conscious movements. Continuing her torture, she moved closer to him as if to share some information that was in the folder she held in her hand. "I want you -- right here," she mumbled under her breath so only he could hear, "right on top of the FBI seal on the damn table cloth. I've had lunch, Fox," she teased without mercy, while slipping her hand under the table, "now I want dessert," she finished. "Mulder..." Dana expertly ran her tongue over pouty lips. "Think popsicle," she added as she casually brushed her hand over the enormous bulge straining at the material of his trousers like a giant eel caught in a net. Christ, better get him out of here before the ATF raids the place and labels him as a dangerous explosive device She glanced up, noticing that if he bit his bottom lip any harder, he'd draw blood. "I promise..." he wheezed in a strangled voice, "not...to...ever...come to your rescue...again...without a personal request." "Don't make promises you can't keep," she scolded. "We have a meeting with Skinner in ten minutes. Think you're up to it?" she added with a giggle. This last inquiry elicited a put upon frown from him, along with the trademark Mulder verbal return. "Of course I'm up to it," he answered with a touch of sarcasm," that's fairly obvious. Maybe for once I won't have to be on the receiving end of the reaming," he snickered with an evil gleam. Dana smacked at him playfully and in the process knocked her glass of ice water into his lap making him shoot from his chair like a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July. "Ahhh, that's cold," he yelped as he grabbed a napkin from the table. Dana covered her mouth in surprise. It really was an accident, however, she had no doubt it'd be difficult to convince Mulder of that fact taking into consideration the gist of the conversation they'd been having prior to the incident. "Oh god, Mulder, I'm sorry," she stammered in between giggles she just couldn't help, "here, let me help," she chortled, dabbing at his crotch with a paper napkin that just wasn't up to the task. She hadn't noticed the captive audience that that suggestive little move had garnered but he had. If these people held any doubt about the validity of their involvement with one another, it sure as hell was shattered now, because in spite of what they say about ice...it most certainly didn't do a damn thing to reduce his swelling. Maybe Skinner would be content to just take a big bite out of his already mangled butt instead and nix the lecture. One could only hope. Skinner's Office "Well, here we are again," Scully sighed, shoving her squirming other half in front of Skinner's office door. "You do the honors this time." "Dana, don't you know that chivalry is dead? I just killed it in the cafeteria not more than ten minutes ago when I was obviously not appreciated for my gallant intervention," he remarked smugly whiled backpedaling behind her. "Carter is one thing, Skinner on the other hand..." She paused for effect, "just this once, I'll allow you to be my knight in shining armor, Mulder." She smiled coyly and ducked under his arm. "Oh I see. I'm only allowed to be a gentleman when certain death is involved. How very damselish of you, Scully." "Why thank you, my prince, my hero, my lord..." "Scully...don't overdo it. Do you have any idea what this is about?" he swallowed nervously. "I haven't the faintest. There's only one way to find out." "Maybe I don't want to know," he countered, "ignorance is bliss..." "Mulder?" "What?" "Knock on the damn door." Mulder smiled. "My Dana, always the direct approach." "Fox?" "Hmm?" "Knock!!" "Okay, okay...sheesh." Mulder raised his hand and tentatively rapped the back of one knuckle lightly against the door. "See," he mumbled softly, "No answer...must have forgotten the appointment and left for the weekend," he said in a rush. Without waiting for a reply from the other side of the door, Mulder turned hastily to leave, nearly knocking Scully over in his attempt to make a quick retreat down the hall. There was a time when the AD's ire wouldn't have mattered to him in the least but in the past year or so things had changed. He'd come to care and respect the man in spite of himself. It was a lot more difficult to feign indifference to someone you wanted to please...someone who's respect you wanted in return and who you didn't want to disappoint. He didn't know exactly when it had happened but being chastised by Walter Skinner was somewhat akin to being accosted by his father...only more so. Though it was true that he loved his father in spite of everything he'd done, it was also true that in some strange way, he admired and respected Walter Skinner more, craving his approval and respect in a way that he never had with Bill Mulder. "Agent Mulder!" a booming voice echoed behind his retreating form, bringing his rapidly moving feet to a sudden and definitive halt. "Sir?" Mulder replied in a cracking voice while turning to face the disembodied voice that had growled his name. "Just where in the hell do you think you're going in such a hurry?" Skinner hissed in his best authoritative butt-chewing tone. Scully noticed the very faint upward tug of Skinner's mouth as he readied himself to rake Mulder's butt over the coals for the little altercation in the cafeteria. It was his turn to play with Mulder's mind a little. After all, it was such a rare occasion that the opportunity presented itself that Walter Skinner just couldn't pass up the chance to take advantage of the young man's obvious discomfort. Maybe next time, Fox, you'll think before stuffing your foot in your mouth. He was certain that Agent Scully had seen the smile before he'd had a chance to stifle it but she evidently knew what he was doing and for reasons of her own, had decided to go along with it. Dana observed the oh shit' expression that fell over her partner's face and had to raise her hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to hide the grin that she was valiantly trying to contain. Serves him right to get back a little of what he is so adept at dishing out...and who better to give it to him than Skinner Mulder slowly walked back to the office doorway and tried to think of something witty and annoying to say in an attempt to distract his boss from what he was sure would be another reaming of major proportions. Trouble was, either he couldn't think fast enough or perhaps walk slow enough to come up with anything worthwhile. Okay...fine. He was going to have to face the music on this one. It was his own damn fault that he was in this position in the first place. AD Skinner eyed Mulder critically and made sure that his stern I am the boss' expression was firmly in place before addressing the young man any further. Mulder in turn, straightened to his full height and handed a large folder over to Skinner before the man had a chance to speak. "Here are the reports from the Lawson Macgregor case," Mulder stated tersely, "I believe everything should be in order." Well, a good offense... "I just want it stated for the record that in this instance the dented bumper on the rental was in no way a direct result of any driving error on my part nor was the large purple stain in the back seat. I mean Christ, sir...How was I supposed to know the perp was hiding out in the back of a panel truck delivering $300 bottles of rare wine." Mulder threw up his hands in disgust. "I'm not goddamn psychic. The phone...well shit, you'd have dropped the damn thing too if you'd been popped in the eye with a fucking cork. I only stepped on it because at the time, I was temporarily blinded and didn't see the damn thing on the ground." Mulder looked up guiltily just in time to see Dana raise her hand to cover her mouth. "I didn't lose my gun or go to the hospital," he mumbled sheepishly. Fuck, why can't I just shut the hell up before I screw myself? Skinner's only reply to Mulder's self incriminating triad was one raised eyebrow. He considered the agent's words and attempted to keep a straight face. "I'm sure whatever reasons you elaborated on in your report are more than likely justified and I will take extenuating circumstances into consideration, however, that is not why I called this meeting." Mulder's posture stiffened in response. So it is about the little mishap in the cafeteria He squirmed in spite of himself and shot a questioning glance at his better half who merely raised both eyebrows and shrugged. Thanks a lot dear.' Walter was beginning to enjoy having Mulder on the other end of the head playing' game for a change but decided to clue the hapless guy in before he had a little too much fun with him. After all, Mulder had enough people trying to pull his strings and jerk him around for real...he didn't need a friend to do it as well, even if it was well meaning. "I had called for this meeting earlier," he continued in a serious tone, "to ascertain when you two were going to announce your change of status as it were. But I see that you, Agent Mulder, have made such a meeting virtually unnecessary by way of your usual undiplomatic and less than tactful flare." Skinner's mouth quirked upward into a soft and amused smile. "Keep up the good work," he muttered as he took Mulder's proffered file, returned to his desk and sat down. Pushing his glasses up on his nose with his forefinger, Skinner glanced over the rims at his two contrite agents. "Well? What are you waiting for -- Easter? Go on, get the hell out of my office," he said gruffly. "Go home!" "Did we just get thrown out?" Mulder mumbled under his breath as he collected his wife and headed for the door. "Sure looks that way," Dana replied with a mischievous grin. "I think we've just been exiled to an early Easter weekend. What do you say we go home and make like bunnies?" Making certain that Skinner's door was firmly secured, Mulder reached out quickly to grab a hand full of soft, pliable derriere'. "Just call me Thumper,'" he chuckled in her ear. If you only knew she laughed wildly in her mind. She could just picture him in the big white, fluffy suit with the floppy ears and soft cotton puff of a tail. Just add a little pink nose, all right...maybe not so little...and whiskers -- Thumper, indeed Oops! She must have been grinning like a hyena if the questioning look she was getting from Mulder was any indication. "What's so funny?" he asked, mildly annoyed. He could hear the little gears grinding away in her beautiful head and previous experience had taught him that this kind of expression in all likelihood didn't bode well for him. In fact, warning bells were going off in all sectors. Mayday, mayday All hands abandon ship "Oh...nothing," she replied, reaching up to plant a dainty kiss on the end of his nose. Now Mulder was really worried. Dana had employed the vague reply and attempted misdirection. His fate was sealed and though he had no idea in hell what she had planned for him, he was more than certain that it was something he wasn't going to like. Relax Mulder, it's a holiday for crying out loud. What could possibly happen in one lousy weekend? Night Moves Hotel Harley March and his brother Earl sat on the dirty, cracked linoleum of their cheap, tiny room and counted what remained of their savings. "Fifty dollas and fourdy-two cent," Harley snorted with a thoroughly disgusted southern drawl. "Shiiiiiit Earl, hanin't even nough ta buy food fer yer eyeteeth, never mind payin fer this dump. What're we gonna do now, son?" he asked as he wiped his nose on the back of his hand and then on the pant leg of his jeans. Earl shifted his weight to one side and let one fly, then reached up to scratch his nuts as a diversionary tactic. "First off, man you gotta stop wipin snot on yer pants. Them things is startin to look like they been tye died or somethin. If momma seen ya doin that, she wup yer ass." "Yeah, and who's gonna tell er' huh...you? We ain't got nough money to git across town so how you gonna git to Arkansas to rat on me, bonehead? We cain't go back now anyhow -- not until we prove to momma that we ain't losers like pop. So shut yer trap and help me think of somethin ta make us rich and successful in the big city." Harley suddenly slid back across the floor and wrinkled his nose in horror. "Jesus H. Christ, Earl, thanks fer the fuckin warnin. I've known polecats that smelled betterin you. Somethin crawl up there and die?" Harley ran the hand that had previously acted as a improvised kleenex through his long, greasy hair and sighed. "If ya hadn't snitched those damn cigarettes from the Stop and Shop, we'd still have couple hundred bucks instead of usin it fer yer stupid bail. When you gonna learn crime don't pay?" "Cain't help it Harley. You know that. Been liften things since I was two-year-old. Jus somethin bout things jus lyin around. Beside, crime's gonna have ta pay to git us outta this mess." Harley dropped his head forward and began to pick the lint out from between his toes. "Whadda ya talkin bout now? Yer not thinkin bout some illegal type stuff are ya Earl? Cause if ya are, I ain't too sure about it. Face it, we jus ain't good criminals." "How ya spose we're gonna git two hundred dollas ta git back home? Nobody's gonna give us a job, Harley. It'd jus be a one time thing ya know? Wait till the Stop n' Shop is kinda empty and ask the counter guy real polite-like for a loan of two hundred dollas and twenty-five cent. I mean, we can even leave an I.O.U. if yer feelin real bad about it. Then it wouldn't be like stealin ... right?" "Well, I guess if ya look at it that way...makes more sense. Which place ya wanna borry from, Earl?" "Hell, I dunno. I figur we betta plan this thing out first and we still got nough money fer a couple days. I think Sunday'd be a good time. It's Easter, people are in church or colorin eggs and shit and only Bozos'll be makin time in a trashy store." "Ya think that'd be such a good idea, Earl? I mean bein' Easter and all... Idn't that kinda like stealin' presents on Christmas?" "Jesus Harley," Earl whined with exasperation, "Afraid of bein' caught by the Easter Bunny or somethin'? It's just another fuckin' day fer crissakes." Harley studied the proposition mutely and reconsidered their available options. As far as he could tell, there weren't any. "Well, okay Earl...but iffin we get caught, it weren't my idea. You got that?" Earl looked disgusted. "Yeah right, it never is," he replied, letting his annoyance surface by way of the tone in his voice. Scully's Apartment Mulder staggered under the weight of several grocery bags while Scully unlocked the door and pushed it open with her foot. "Okay Dana," Mulder hissed between the creme filled chocolate eggs and the marshmallow bunnies, "I understand the concept of Easter candy' and the building of a myth to substantiate and support a commercially sound program of propaganda, but... why must one perpetuate the notion of an egg-laying furball with an overactive pituitary and why in the name of heaven, on top of everything else, do they have to be...colored eggs? Why can't they be white or brown? Oh, no... That's too damn easy. Let's make them fucking green, blue, pink, and purple with stripes and polka dots...no, no wait, we can write on them, plaster them with stickers, and turn them into more cutsie little animals. Oooo, I can't wait." Mulder lifted his brows in mock surprise. "But then...then, we can hide the damn things all over the neighborhood and hope the little munchkins find all the rotten rabbit eggs before next year when they reappear as rare mummified artifacts suitable for museum display," he shook his head in disbelief. "And they call me weird?" Dana turned as he dumped his load of groceries on the counter and favored him with her patented look of annoyance. "Fox William Mulder," she admonished him, "can't you just try to get into the holiday spirit? Why are you having such a problem with this? I mean it's not like you've never been on an Easter egg hunt before...is it?" Mulder suddenly shifted his weight from one foot to the other and contemplated the cracks in the floor. Oh shit. It had never occurred to her that that had indeed been the problem. "You've never done this before, have you Fox?" Still avoiding her gaze, he gently nodded his head no.' " The Mulder family has no time for wasteful, quaint pagan rituals,'" he seemed to quote from memory. She could picture in her mind the dour words being spoken by Mulder's stern, unyielding father and shivered. How did someone with her husband's sensitivity survive that kind of bullshit? "Look Dana," he finally managed to whisper, "I have no idea what to do with all this stuff and I sure as hell don't want to look like a idiot in front of Mengele's stepchildren. Catie's kids get a whiff of weakness and I'm dead meat." Mulder's brows knitted together with an accompanying frown. "Why in the hell did you agree to watch the little terrorists tonight anyway? I um...had plans," he grumbled with disappointment and a lustful leer as he began to unpack the groceries. What the hell was all this stuff? What is a package of Paas'? Well, there's a picture of a cartoon bunny on the front with a bunch of colored eggs...work it out, genius. Hmm... A bottle of vinegar?? Thought she was past that The stickers and the eggs he could figure out as well as his sunflower seeds, the beer, and of course the 2 pound bag of vinegar and salt potato chips. Damn Phoebe got him hooked on those Reaching the bottom of the last bag, his fingers froze as if he'd been electrocuted. "Dana..." Mulder spoke evenly, "Why is there a bag of dog food at the bottom of this bag?" He suddenly had a really, really bad feeling about this especially when Dana didn't respond to the question in what he considered a acceptable amount of time. Dawning realization was creeping in at an alarming rate as he slowly held of the red and white package over the counter with one outstretched hand. "Please tell me they're not bringing that hairy piece of shit mongrel, Riley, with them," he moaned in a child-like voice. Dana grimaced slightly and cringed. "Okay, they're not bringing that hairy piece of shit mongrel, Riley, with them.' How's that?" she asked, her lips quirking upward in a grin. Mulder plopped down on a bar stool and frowned. "Whatever happens you keep that mangy mutt off my goddamn ankles. I never agreed to Riley. Christ, that little mutated sewer rat is a menace to society and life as we know it and you know I would never readily agree to let the fucker in the apartment or anywhere near any exposed body parts. He makes good ol' Queequeg look like a pussy puppy'." Sighing with exasperation, Dana snatched the bag of dog food from his hand and dropped it to the floor. "Oh for heaven's sake, don't be such a baby. It's just a little dog. And Mulder...four bucks," she announced, holding out her hand and pointing to the cursing' jar on the window sill. "Four bucks?" he squeaked, "how do you figure that?" he asked reaching into his pocket, pulling out the bills and stuffing them into the jar. "You said, shit, goddamn, fucker, and pussy,'" she rattled off expertly. "Hey, pussy's not a bad word," he contested, "means cat'...at least in England and you said shit' too," he added with a self-satisfied smirk. "Yes, but I was just repeating what you said and it doesn't count. Come on, Fox, you've got to learn to tone down the language or our children will come out sounding like drunken sailors." "Jesus Christ, Dana, at this rate I'll have their damn college tuition paid for by the time they start kindergarten." Dana's eyes flickered with mischief. "That's another two bucks, Fox." She smiled sweetly. "Wait just a d...arn minute. I'll concede the one dollar penalty for the d' word but Jesus Christ' is not a curse word. If it is, I'm putting this blasted jar in the rectory of St. Ignatius and retiring early. Adopting a scowl of frustration, Dana explained as if she were talking to a recaltrant child. "In most religious circles, such a phrase would be considered as taking the Lord's name in vain' and therefore would be considered cursing.' Fox's eyes twinkled in mirth as he raised an eyebrow in contention. "That is of course providing that the person in question accepts the notion that Jesus Christ' is indeed a true and bonafide deity." "In any case," Dana quipped as she snatched two dollars from his hand, "don't let mom hear you say it with that tone of voice or you'll be burping bubbles for days from the soap when she washes your mouth out." "Ooo Scully," he purred lightly as he reached out and pulled her close, "I was kinda hoping you'd wash out my mouth...with your tongue," he managed to whisper hoarsely as their lips met, mouths opened and tongues dueled hotly. The doorbell rang...and rang. "Shit!" he grumbled as she looked up at him with amusement. Grinning sheepishly, Fox Mulder reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and removed a ten dollar bill, stuffing it reluctantly into the jar then upon hearing the infernal yapping at the front door, took out another ten and added it to the first. "That should hold me until morning...I hope," he said with a heavy sigh. Dana chuckled and patted him on the butt as they went to open the front door to the enemy. Chapter Two: An Egg Of a Different Color There were few things in this life that frightened Agent Fox Mulder. Number one on the list was the Irish ire of his loving wife...following close behind that was what waited for him on the other side of the solid oak door of his warm and inviting living room. Dana's words echoed softly in his memory. 'Come on Mulder, after all...they're just kids, right?' Somehow he could just picture somebody, somewhere, etching those fateful words on his tombstone. He Knew that mangy little mutt that always tagged along with the little trolls from hell...Riley, unable to dig him up and gnaw on his ankle, would probably just pee on his grave. Morosely, Mulder shook his head and tried to banish the thought from his mind as he reached for the door knob to admit this chaos into his sanctuary...his Eden...his Val Hala. Okay, Mulder, snap out of it. You're overreacting...Oh yeah, right. Just one more shot at verif ying your inadequacies as a father figure..sure, just what you need. Taking one last look at Dana, Fox gulped silently and opened the door. "Hi Cous, how's it hangin'" Alex blurted out loudly while bouncing three-year-old Flora on his hip. "And how are you holding up, Dana?" he asked with a wink. Catie nudged her boisterous husband in the ribs and smiled. "Knock it off, Alex. Is that any way to greet your cousin and his lovely wife after they've so graciously agreed to watch the kids for the night?" Alex shrugged his shoulders in typical Mulder-like fashion and looked appropriately apologetic. "Yeah, guess I better not antagonize him too much or we'll never get to that party, huh?" Dana caught herself grinning and just couldn't help the retort that slipped out of her mouth. "That's okay Alex, Fox is hangin' just fine and although he's a handful, I'm holding up his end as well as mine," she snickered as she noted with a certain glee the sudden red flush that crept into her partner's cheeks. Muder did a double take. Did she actually say that? And here he thought for all those years that he was the king of innuendo. He would have pondered this line of thought a little longer if time had permitted. As it were, he barely had a chance to recover from the blush before demon number one, aka Duncan, exploded beneath his arm and aimed himself like a scud missile toward he couch and the remote control. "I got first dibs on the TV," he yelled as another blur of motion, aka Caitlin, zipped beneath his other arm and dove for the remote on the coffee table. "Not if I can help it, zit head," she replied heatedly. Alex quickly hugged Flora and slid her to the ground. Bidding his cousin a very short farewell, he grabbed Catie's hand a beat a fast retreat to their waiting car before Mulder had a chance to change his mind about the whole situation. Never mind Mulder, Dana was beginning to have her own doubts concerning her decision on the matter. "This was your idea, right?" Fox asked her through clenched teeth. Dana nodded in affirmation then glanced down at the little munchkin that had wrapped her arms around her husband's leg, clinging to him like an extra appendage. "Unkie Fox...Unkie Fox," the tiny voice pleaded, "pick meup, Unkie Fox. I um..big girl. See?" She smiled happily as she turned, pulled up her dress and bent over, revealing a pair of pink panties with several rows of ruffles brandishing her little behind. "Hey look Dana, it's the next Victoria's Secret catalogue model of the year," Fox muttered under his breath. Dana poked him in the ribs with her elbow and tried to frown. "Toria's Secret," Flora repeated with glee while looking up at him from between her legs. Geez, the kid's a contortionist "Ah...yeah, Flora, they're really pretty but I think they'll be much nicer as a secret under your dress, ok?" Mulder, unused to this type of unabashed display of trust didn't know quite how to respond to the little girl with the auburn curls but she instinctively knew how to respond to him. Quickly she straightened and lifted her arms in a request to be picked up and held. This was something that on some primitive level, he understood and without conscious thought, pulled the child into his arms in a tender, protective embrace. Hmm...I could get used to this All of the sudden he felt the warmth of unconditional love as Flora wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and planted a wet sloppy kiss on his cheek. Mulder's heart melted into a big puddle of goo. Sure, the kid had spilled grape juice on him, peed on him, and caused him to shove his hands down a toilet to retrieve a lost bear, not to mention being the reason he'd gotten punched in the face and thrown in jail. That didn't matter. He'd slay dragons and anything else that got in her way. Mulder was hers and he was wrapped around her little finger so tight that the digit quite possibly would fall off from lack of circulation. Dana was well aware of that familiar look on his face and prayed fervently that they would have sons. Mulder was a sucker for little girls...always had been. "Ah come on, Flora," Duncan hissed from the living room, "Quit sucking up." "She's still too little to suck up, moron," Caitlin quipped as she pinched her brother's ear and stole the remote out of his hand. "Hey, dweebette, give it back. I had it first," Duncan whined. "Uncle Fox, I had it first. Make her give it back." Mulder stood in the foyer, toddler hanging from his neck like a talisman and his mouth slightly ajar with indecision. Oh God... That's it, I'm getting a vasectomy. He then directed a pleading look at Dana taking in at the same time her large belly poking out from her small frame. Well, it's a little late for that, 'Mister I only forgot it once'...don't you think? he reminded himself with a grin. There was no way in hell anyone was coming close to that part of his anatomy with a scalpel anyway so he'd just have to learn how to cope. Dana, noticing his lack of response took the initiative. "You can both leave the remote on the table and come into the kitchen. We have something else planned for tonight and watching an endless marathon of satellite TV is not on the schedule." Hey, wait a minute, Mulder's brain whirred. There's a game on tonight. The Knick's are playing for crissakes...The Knicks. "Uh...this isn't going to take all night is it?" he asked tentatively as he followed the reluctant parade into the kitchen. Looking nervously at the clock, he slid Flora to the ground. "I mean...this ritual thing will only take an hour or so right?" he asked anxiously. Snickering under her breath, Dana met his eyes. It was then he saw the laughter brimming in their depths. "Oh, I don't know Fox. If everyone pays attention and follows directions, there shouldn't be any problem," she stated with authority. "Yes, I know there's a game...and yes, we should be done by then," she whispered softly into Mulder's ear. Mulder visibly relaxed. This egg thing might be fun after all, he decided. He could be 'creative' couldn't he? This was something new...a challenge and he had never been one to shirk from a challenge. Maybe his sensitive, artistic side could find some release in this childish activity. It had to be better than his bizarre experience with sculpting gargoyles from clay. Don't even think about that "So what are we doing?" asked Duncan belligerently. "Yeah, what?" echoed Caitlin. Dana smiled enthusiastically. "We're going to color Easter eggs," her voice bubbled with excitement. "Aren't we kind of old for that stuff," Duncan replied flatly. "You're never too old for that stuff, Duncan," Dana offered. "You're going to have fun," she ordered forcefully, "And you're going to like it," she added, raising one eyebrow in challenge. Mulder stepped back, stared pointedly at the raucous little imp and coughed lightly into his fist. Ooo boy. This kid was going to get his ears boxed royally if he didn't watch it...and I get to watch! There is a God after all Fox smiled ever so slightly and gave what he considered some sage advice. "Take my word for it kid, the traveling eyebrow is a sure sign to shut up, do what you're told, and keep your comments to yourself. Now, if you insist on testing that theory, I disclaim all responsibility for the outcome. I suggest that you resign yourself to having fun even if it kills you. End of lecture," he added rather smugly. Placing her hands on what she could find of her hips, Dana tried to glower at her husband for that startling little insight into her body language but couldn't quite work up enough real annoyance to hold the pose for more than a few seconds. How did this man get to know her that well? Were all her little nuances that obvious to him? If he knew her this well only after a few years, what would he know after a lifetime? The thought was just a little...scary. After all, I'd like to keep a little...mystery. Wouldn't too much familiarity breed boredom? I'll just have to make sure that never happens. Then again, it works both ways. The way his jaw spasms when he's upset or angry, the glitter in his eyes when he's horny...he has a subtle language of his own and I read him like an open book. Would I ever become bored with him? Not in this lifetime, the little devil on her shoulder conceded. "Guess we're safe," she mumbled under her breath. "What?" Mulder asked, "Did you say something?" "Nothing important," she chuckled, as she herded the children away from the TV and into the kitchen. Caitlin took a moment to glance back into the living room. "That TV's kinda small anyway," she informed her uncle in a judgmental tone. Uncle Darin has a 60" big screen TV with surround sound and everything. Uncle Darin is rich." Mulder looked down at the pixie standing before him and grinned. "Yeah but *Uncle Darin* didn't want to watch you tonight did he. Besides, I've got something Uncle Darin doesn't..." Caitlin looked up expectantly and waited. "Okay, what?" she asked. Scully noted that Fox's eyes gleamed with an orneryness she'd also learned to recognize over the years...'Do you know what liver and onions go for on Reticula?' 'Sometimes messing with their minds.... ' Okay, I don't know what he's up to...and I was worried about becoming bored. Nope, never will happen. "Muldervision," he exclaimed as though they should all know what the hell that was. "Muldervision??" they all asked in unison. Dana threw him a questioning look that he obviously wasn't going to answer, at least not in front of the kids. "Yep!" he replied, "And nobody is going to experience it if we don't get these bunny egg things dipped and dyed and whatever the he...ck you do with them," he grumbled good-naturedly. Uncle Darin's a prick, kid. Yeah, he's rich all right...that's why he drives a fucking Geo. Probably had to knock a wall out of his living room just to be able to see his big 60" screen TV without going blind. Okay, Mulder conceded, that was unkind but he hated this one upmanship BS with a passion and good ol' 'Uncle Darin' had been pulling this crap with him since he was twelve. Every time he heard about 'Uncle Darin's' 60" TV he wanted to jump up and down and scream. Sure, with the money from his trust fund and the inheritance his father left him, he could buy a whole goddamn theater but that didn't matter. 'Uncle Darin' had the fucking thing first and for some reason that's what mattered. He'd purposely not purchased a bigger and better version of the object in question simply because doing so would perpetuate the notion that he, Fox Mulder, felt that such a thing was important and that he would be insecure enough to compete. An array of plastic and glass bowls covered Dana's counter top, each carefully filled with steaming hot water, colorful dye, and vinegar. Stencil pencils, stickers, and wire egg holders were strewn haphazardly between the containers. Stepping up to the counter, Fox wrinkled his nose. "Why do you need that stuff," he groaned, motioning toward the bottle of vinegar. "It makes the whole kitchen smell like a douche," he added under his breath. Dana shot him the look of death and proceeded to explain, "The vinegar makes the color stick fast to the egg shell. Where were you, Mr. Genius, during science class?" "Looking under Amy Mcpherson's dress," he quipped, then was immediately sorry for the outburst when he saw the evil flash in her eyes. Oops, I'm gonna really pay for that one a persistent tug on his pant leg brought his gaze downward to rest on Flora's upturned face. "Unkie Fox," she asked innocently, "what's a douche, Unkie Fox?" Shit! What's with this kid? Could she be Superman's illegitimate love child? How was it possible that she couldn't hear him yell at her to put up her toys but could make out every syllable of what he thought was mumbled incoherently under his breath? "Ah..." Mulder stuttered and looked pleadingly at his beloved lifemate as she laughed herself into oblivion. As soon as she could gather enough air into her lungs to reply, Dana noticed the chips on the counter by the stove. "It's Unkie Fox's favorite snack," she gasped, pointing to the salt and vinegar chips. He just loves the flavor," she added cruelly. Touche,'Dana, he thought as the crimson blush on his cheeks receded back to the tips of his ear. "Is not!!" Caitlin squealed in a loud voice. "I know what it is...It's that bottle of stuff Mom keeps under the bathroom sink to..." Mulder reached over and clamped his large hand over Caitlin's even larger mouth. "...To make the bathroom smell like potato chips," he finished for her. Why don't we get the show on the road and um...color these things, huh?" Slowly he removed his hand and picked up the wire thing-a-ma-jig. It kinda reminded him of...Uh uh don't go there He immediately bit his lip and withheld further comment. The first egg he tried fell off the wire and plopped into the cup with a splash. How come the kids could do this and he couldn't keep the damn thing in the holder? He then wondered in passing how with his apparent bad aim and even worse coordination, he'd ever managed to get Dana pregnant in the first place. Must have been dumb luck. "I think I'm getting the hang of it," he grinned stupidly, pulling a sad looking excuse for an egg from the swirling mix of muddy color in the cup before him. "Uncle Fox," Duncan groaned, "It's brown. Why would anybody want a brown Easter egg? It's *ugly*." "Ugly rabbits need eggs too..." Shit, it wasn't his fault he screwed up the red and green again. Maybe he could draw something on the only egg left that he hadn't dyed brown. It was time for an adult egg. Fuck the Easter Bunny. This was his creative urge now. He'd finished his little piece of egg d' art and handed it to Dana, not trusting himself to find a decent color. Unknowingly she dipped the hard-boiled ovum in the rich blue dye and watched the form emerge like a Polaroid print. What the hell? What stared back at her was the epitome of the earth mother figure from some primitive sexually explicit society. Large breasted, and round bellied, it quite accurately depicted an obviously naked and pregnant female. "Fox William Mulder," she croaked in disbelief, staring at him in open mouthed surprise. Oops. Could be I went just a tad too far...Could be I'm in a whole lot of trouble...Could be next year the damn Bunny's gonna have to dye his own fucking eggs. This stuff is too dangerous "Oh boy, what did you do?" Duncan piped up with delight. "I know what it means when I get called by my full name. You're in trouble...You're in trouble," the little twerp taunted him over and over again until he tripped and dropped the carton of raw eggs that he was getting for Dana from the refrigerator onto the floor. Mulder smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. What could he say? "I was inspired," was the only explanation he could think of at the moment. "We'll discuss this later, Mulder." She smirked. Looking down at the mess on the floor, she sighed. "Duncan, clean this up. I'm going to have to go out and get more eggs." No! She wasn't going to leave him alone with the trolls...he'd never give into his creative urges ever again...really....he'd promise... This was unfair punishment. Okay. Caaaaalmm dowwwwn. It can't be that bad. It'll only be for a half hour or so. No problem. You can handle it. After all...they're not serial killers or alien mutants...or are they? You're not going to be gone long are you?" he asked experimentally. "Mulder, you'll be just fine. I'm coming right back...just...just take five until then. Don't try to create any more culturally specific art while I'm gone, okay?" "Okay." He pouted as she walked out the door. Mulder took a look around. Flora was snuggled in the big fluffy chair in front of his not 60 inch TV and the other two terrors were sitting quietly on the floor in front of her. Maybe this wasn't so terrible after all...he yawned. God, holiday rites could be exhausting. His eyelids drooped then fluttered open...then slowly closed again. Just a catnap. He was a light sleeper. He'd know if anything was amiss. A soft snore drifted out from his softly parted lips as he sank down into the warmth of the comforting couch. Chapter Three: Op Art Is a Dying Medium Mulder moaned softly and squeezed the sofa pillow tightly to his chest. This was the best dream he'd had all week. Hot steaming water sprayed over his body, trickling in endless soapy rivulets down the ridges and planes of his muscles and taught silken skin. Dana ran her thumbs sensually over his lips, then pulled her fingertips roughly through his slick, wet, hair. "Oh yeah," he groaned out loud. He really liked the direction this dream was heading. Dana's nude, slippery body pressed up against him and he found her obvious pregnant form erotically arousing. Part of his brain wondered if this feeling was normal or slightly perverted. The other part of course opted to ignore the prudish first part and decided to just enjoy the seduction. Gently, she grazed his cheek with her velvety lips, then slowly knelt down before him and expertly began to lick his...toes. Toes?? Now wait just a goddamn minute. This was his dream and even his subconscious couldn't be that cruel. Could it? There it was again...a hot, wet sensation lapping at his toes and the bottoms of his feet. What? How could Dana be licking the soles of his feet when he was standing up? More important -- Why? While his subconscious was mulling over this latest inconsistency in his dream sequence, a sudden sharp pain lanced through his big toe. Mulder bolted straight up from the couch and his nap, yelling in an almost girly scream, "Oowww, shit," as his other foot lashed out and connected with the snarling mass of razor sharp teeth belonging to that little reject of genetic engineering, Riley. He was pretty sure it was Riley. The little shit was incredibly fast and all he caught was a blur but it had to be that crummy furball bastard. "God..." damn little mother-fucking piece of floating sewer shit he finished desperately in his head, remembering that there were children somewhere in the general vicinity. At least he thought there were. Oh no. Mulder began to panic. It was too damn quiet and no children were within his range of vision. Where in the hell are they? He tentatively wiggled his injured toe, quietly got up from the couch and limped into the kitchen. "Oh my God," he gasped in disbelief. "Oh my God, I'm gonna die. Dana's gonna kill me and use my nuts for paper weights. No...no...she's gonna use them for paper weights and then kill me." His knees felt suddenly weak and he collapsed onto the closest available chair. Mulder didn't notice the big puddle of red dye in the chair until it managed to seep through the seat of his pants and into his boxers. Nor did the bright blue doggie paw prints scattered across the highly polished tile floor register in his brain until he became aware of the purple hand prints that adorned almost every other available surface in the room. He felt a sudden urge to laugh hysterically as he compared the bright splashes of color on the wall and ceiling to a 60's psychedelic nightmare. Maybe this was just a flashback from that drug tainted water he'd ingested a while back and he'd wake up soon. Nah, he couldn't be that lucky. "Oh Christ!" he mumbled in shock. Their kitchen -- Dana's spotless, squeaky clean kitchen cabinets bore a striking resemblance to the "Laugh-In" joke wall and all he needed to finish off the effect was a fucking black light, granny glasses, and a lava lamp. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard "Born to Be Wild" playing over and over again. The reason for the blue paw prints scurried past him and slid across the kitchen floor and into the refrigerator door, landing with a thud. Not only was the mangy mut blue, someone had shaved a peace symbol into the hair on his ass. The sound of giggles reached his ears and Mulder cautiously made his way to the pantry door. Pulling it open, his eyes beheld the prime suspects in this latest edition of mayhem. The anger bubbled up from the very pit of his existence. This was it. This was the end. He could feel the veins in his neck pulsating and the heat in his face threatened to melt his eyebrows. Very slowly he managed to bring his voice under control. "Who is responsible for this?" he asked in what he felt was a reasonable tone considering his state of mind. Three totally innocent faces beamed up at him and echoed in unison, "I dunno..." Flora held out her dye-stained purple hands and chirped happily, "Unkie Fox, Unkie Fox...I make pretty pictures...see?" This was dirty pool. They were using the munchkin and he knew it. There was no way he could look at that chubby cherub face and yell at anybody. But damn it all to hell, they were gonna have to pay for this. He sure wasn't going to clean up this mess and he was fairly certain they would never get it done before Dana got back which had to be soon. "Get out of there right now and get this mess cleaned up," he ordered in a seething voice. Pulling the cleaning supplies out from under the sink and the mop bucket from the closet, he turned and added, "You've got thirty minutes. I suggest you make the best of it because this kitchen is Aunt Dana's pride and joy and if she's sees it like this I guarantee heads will roll." A clouded look of dread spread across each child's face, with the exception of Flora who just continued to study her purple hands with intense curiosity. Looks like the Imps feared something afterall...the Red Irish Terror. Mulder smiled triumphantly. He'd learned the first rule of parenting...how to threaten constructively or an edited version of wait till your mother gets home.' The cleaning project was well under way when the door bell rang. "No, not yet," Mulder pleaded to himself. She couldn't be home yet and she wouldn't ring the door bell anyway, he sighed to himself with relief as he reluctantly left the kitchen, crossed the living room, and cautiously opened the door. The primly dressed couple standing in the doorway, gasped in surprised shock and nearly dropped the stack of Religion Today' magazines on the floor. Mulder stared back at the open mouthed couple in confusion. Okay, just what I need. Religious fanatics. So why are they looking at me this way? Do I have 666 stamped on my forehead? Be nice, Mulder,' he could hear Scully's voice chiding him. Damn woman was his conscience even when she wasn't with him. "Can I help you," Mulder asked cordially. Still no answer. Hmmm...must be a new recruit or something. The man in the dark suit nudged the woman gently in the side and she began to speak nervously in a staccato manner. "Ah...um...Are you a Christian?" she asked in a whisper. Mulder raised one eyebrow as the woman shoved a magazine into his hand. He opened his mouth to speak but the woman didn't give him a chance to answer. "Are you ready for Armageddon?" she continued undauntedly as Mulder put up his hand for her to stop. All right, Scully. I'm trying to be nice but my religious beliefs are none of these people's business. "Ma'am, I'm not a really religious person and as for Armageddon?" Mulder looked over his shoulder as a crashing noise sounded from the kitchen. "I'm almost certain that it's already here so take a number and wait your turn." The woman glared angrily at him, threw the remaining magazines on the floor, turned abruptly and stalked down the hall, leaving her bewildered companion standing alone at the door. "Gee, I wonder what got into her?" Mulder asked innocently. Was it something I said? The man bent over and picked up the magazines then shook his head as he trailed after the woman who was by now uttering obscenities under her breath. Scully rounded the corner and nearly careened into what looked like a very pissed off Jehovah's witness who was muttering something about keeping the nutcases in this country locked up.' There was only one person she knew of in the area that could reduce a missionary to cursing and she picked up her pace, anxious to find out what he'd managed to get into this time. Mulder shut the front door and went back to check on the progress of the kitchen project. Well, it looked better. Okay, this was going to take some major scrubbing and he was going to be in some major ka ka. After the cafeteria thing this morning and now...this, he'd be lucky to survive the weekend. He might as well offer his body up for human sacrifice and throw himself at Dana's feet and ask for a merciful death. Dana let herself into the apartment and followed the noise to the kitchen. Holy Mary Mother of God... Mulder turned and met her eyes and as her jaw dropped so did the two dozen eggs she carried in her hands. Suddenly one hand came to her mouth as the other supported her belly and she dropped to a blue stained chair and laughed herself silly. "What???" Mulder cried out in frustration. "What the hell is so funny?" First the church lady now Dana. Fox took a quick glance downward to make sure his fly was up...not that that would be a cause for uncontrolled laughter but he was getting mighty tired of being stared at. "Fox..." Dana giggled between hiccups..."Have you seen yourself lately," she gasped. "Seen myself?" His confusion sent another peal of uncontrolled laughter tumbling out of her shaking belly. Flora smiled and grabbed her uncles hand. "Unkie Fox went for nappies. Sissy make him pretty." "Huh?" Fox asked still in a state of bewilderment. Scully pushed herself up from the chair, took Mulder's hand and led him to the bathroom. There, facing him in the bathroom mirror was a punker's wet dream. They'd attacked him in his sleep. His hair was pink. Pink. Not only pink but moussed straight up from his head. He vaguely recognized the style and could swear he'd seen the same do on Babylon 5. His lips were painted a bright rosy red and the little beauty school drop out had somehow managed to color his eyelids purple and tint his cheeks crimson as well. "F... Fudge," he roared, noticing Dana's silent warning concerning the F word. "I will kill them," he hissed. "I will kill them all," he repeated in a bad imitation of Boris Karlof. "Where's my machete," he bellowed just loud enough for them to hear, "A bullet's too good for them," he continued as he peeked out from behind the door. The spare bedroom door slammed with a vengeance and muffled children's voices accused one another of instigating the incident. "That should hold them for a while," he chuckled. Looking back into the mirror he turned his head from side to side admiring Caitlin's handiwork. "Must have given the missionary lady a mild coronary," he said, noticing Dana's amused gaze. "Think we can get this stuff out of my hair and this junk off of my face?" he asked with a worried expression. "We?" Dana asked seductively. "Yeah," he replied with a wink, "I want to tell you about this dream I was having...just don't lick my toes." "Lick your toes? Sounds kinky. Hope you weren't having this dream in front of the children." "No...just Riley." "Now I know it's kinky." She smiled as she turned on the shower and began pulling off his clothes. "Think it will come out?" he asked again with concern. He had enough trouble at work without going in with pink hair. "Sure," Scully remarked, shoving him into the warm water. "If it doesn't we'll just have to keep at it until we get it right." She smirked, getting in after him. "I see..." he gasped as the cold shower tiles slapped up against his back. Maybe next time he could get Caitlin to color his hair blue. He didn't mind the dye as long as Dana helped him wash it out. And ...Oh God....she didn't once lick his toes. Chapter Four: Bvds And High Fiber Dog Food The water was warm, he was warmer, and Dana was positively hot. He didn't know how but he could have sworn that Dana had peeked into his dream--well except for the toe licking part. The pink water going down the drain was reassuring but she was having a difficult time scrubbing the red dye that had seeped through his pants, off his ass.. She lathered him up once more and sighed. "Mulder, I think having the 'red ass' is supposed to be a figurative slang term not a literal reality. This stuff is just going to have to wear off. At least it's somewhere where no one will see it -- except for me," she added with a wink. "Thank God for small favors," he muttered in annoyance as he turned around and tried unsuccessfully to pull her closer. The straight on approach wasn't cutting it any more since her belly had begun to put a barrier between where he was and where he wanted to be. "Dana...um...I think..." "What?" she asked with bright, shining eyes, "What do you think?" "Ah...I think we're going to have to get a little more creative with positioning or I'm going to have a running appointment with a cold shower," he moaned while attempting to lift her up, "And a chiropractor," he added, quickly putting her back down on her tiny, little feet. Well, he thought she still had feet even though looking down at her from his lofty vantage point, he sure couldn't see them any more. God, he was tall. Right now the part of him she wanted most was stiffly poking her in the belly button and although arousing, it wasn't exactly what she had in mind. Well, shit. He couldn't lift her up and she couldn't bend over. "No problem is insurmountable, Sherlock," she panted, "love will find a way." Gingerly, she pulled him down toward the floor of the shower then slid down his frame until she rested squarely in his lap. "Remember what I told you at lunch this afternoon?" she whispered hoarsely in his ear. He remembered. Oh boy, did he remember. She knew he remembered. He remembered everything--always. He threw his head back against the cold tiles as she used his shoulders as a brace, lifting and lowering herself down on him again and again. Sweet Jesus. He was going to explode like an erupting volcano. A ragged gasp escaped through his parted lips, his control slipping out of his grasp like sand through his fingers. One last thrust from her and he was lost, screaming her name like a benediction. The only thing he could comprehend was the fact that he heard his own name being echoed in the same manner and a steady pounding on the bathroom door. "Uncle Fox, Aunt Dana!" Duncan's loud voice screamed as pounding fists hammered on the door. "Whataya doin' in there? Didya fall down or something? Hey!! What's goin' on?" Mulder's vision cleared and his brain slowly downshifted to first gear while the rest of his body did a sudden screech into park. Husband and wife stared at one another in alarm then scrambled awkwardly from the shower, both grabbing the first available towel that came into reach...the only towel that came into reach. It hung haphazardly on a lonely deserted towel rack next to a matching hand towel and wash cloth. "Give me the towel, Mulder," Dana hissed between clenched teeth. "What about me?" he asked while tugging the bath towel away from her. Dana inclined her head toward the towel rack and the tiny terry cloth square that occupied the remaining space. "Take that one," she offered as she yanked the towel back to her side. "I'm insulted." He pouted, then continued in a hurt voice, "you think that I could preserve my modesty with a hand towel?" "Mulder, last time I checked modesty was not high on your list of priorities." Fox looked down at himself and grinned. "Yeah but last time you checked my modesty quotient there wasn't a screaming kid pounding on our bathroom door either. Besides, you have clothes in here and I don't and there's no way I'm putting red tie-dyed boxers back on this behind," he growled, refusing to relinquish his hold on the precious piece of cloth. "Uncle Fox!! You Okay?" Duncan asked again. The pounding on the door accelerated in speed and sound until the voice of insane reasoning admonished in a cool, clear tone, "What do ya think they're doin,' stupid?" Caitlin flicked her brother's ear and grabbed his arm in mid knock. "You are such a dweeb. God, sometimes you're just soooo embarrassing." "What?" Duncan asked with a puzzled expression. The pounding stopped along with the yelling. Dana lifted an eyebrow and strained to hear the voices on the other side of the door. Mulder had no trouble making out the words, 'doin' the nasty' as they drifted into the steam filled room. Hanging his head down in disbelief, he gave up his struggle for the disputed owner- ship of the towel and plopped his red-stained butt down on the clean, cold porcelain and laughed until the tears in his eyes traveled unchecked down his cheeks. This was not exactly how he'd planned this evening. Having to listen to two little juvenile hall rejects describe in detail the finer points of 'doin' the nasty' was more than a little disconcerting, especially when they seemed to know more about the subject than he did. What kind of school did these kids go to and where did he have to go to enroll? "The nasty?" Duncan inquired further. "What's that?" "Geez, you really are an idiot. Where were you when they taught sex ed? Didn't they tell you where babies come from, doof?" "Yeah, so?" "So let's just say, they're in there makin' some." "But they already made two and they're not even finished yet. Why would they want to start on another one now?" "Oh God. You can't be my brother. Mom must have found you in the doggie food aisle at Safeway. Forget it. Just forget it, okay? Come on pinhead, they'll never come out if you keep standing there pounding on the door." Mulder sighed deeply and thought, 'Is this what I have to look forward to...trying to sneak in sex under the noses of omnipotent children? It was almost as bad as the time he had to lower Janet Kramer out of his bedroom window when his parents came home early one night when he was fifteen. He'd been so close to scoring that night that it hurt. Literally.' "Now I know why good ol' cousin Alex drop kicked the little trolls on our doorstep and ran for the hills," he muttered under his breath. "He probably hasn't gotten any since Vegas," he fixed Dana with a silent pleading look. "Promise me, Scully...we get away at least once a week. Just once a week is all I ask," he repeated softly. "No problem, Sherlock. But once a week is way too conservative for my taste. What's the matter, performance anxiety?" she grinned shamelessly, "Afraid of an audience? You know, Mulder, in many countries procreation, birth, life, and death all occur in a single room. If our little Uber-Scullies decide to barge in at some time in the future, I don't think it will scar them for life. Relax. Chill Fox," she teased. Dana retrieved her clothes from the floor and got dressed. Mulder picked up the damp bath towel that she had dropped to the floor and expertly tucked it around his waist as he headed for the door. "Meet you in OZ, Dana," he snickered while sticking his head out of the crack in the door to suspiciously search the hallway. All clear "Just beware of Toto. The fucking little shit bites." She opened her mouth to make a comment but he silenced her with a finger. "I already paid for the 'f' and 's' words. The money's in the damn jar." With that, he dashed out into the hallway and into their bedroom. Dana padded into the living room to round up the children for bed but when she arrived, the room was silent and empty. Christ, now what...the kitchen? What more could they do to her kitchen? She walked in and looked around. Well, her kitchen didn't look too bad. Evidence showed that they had at least tried to clean up the mess. However, it too was dark and silent. Don't panic, Dana, they're here somewhere She ventured into the spare room and heaved a sigh of relief. Caitlin and Flora were sprawled on the bed and Duncan was curled up on the daybed in the corner. With the moonlight floating through the window, they looked like napping angelic cherubs. Who knew? Scully turned and left the room, softly closing the door behind her and headed down the hall to her own little version of heavenly sanctuary. She had an appointment with a lanky version of a cherubic imp. Mulder dropped the towel to the floor again and proceeded to plunder through the pile of clean clothes by the closet door. He'd magnanimously offered to help with the laundry and single- handedly washed and dried three loads. He was insufferably proud of himself for not running a single color or spin-cycling any 'dry clean only' items, a mistake he'd made from an earlier attempt that cost him one of his 'best' silk ties. Unfortunately, the male in him couldn't see the importance of folding. In his eyes it was a redundant activity with no useful purpose so here he was searching through the laundry 'dump' for a clean pair of underwear. His fingers made contact with his favorite pair of black silk boxers and he pulled them from the pile. They felt awfully light. Sure they were silk but something was amiss here. The goddamn crotch is missing! "What the fuck?" he mumbled in disbelief as he held up and inspected the shredded material that dangled from an intact waistband. No...it said right on the label, 'washable silk' He'd followed instructions to the letter. "Okay, it just an aberration...must have gotten caught on something in the washer," he muttered. Another foray into the laundry jungle produced another pair of boxers with the irreplaceable Marvin the Martian collector's print. His heart sank. They too were crotchless. Laundry flew through the air as if being spewed from an angry volcano. "Shiiiit!!!" he panted breathlessly. Every pair of underwear he owned were minus their most important parts. Mulder sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, his bare butt stuck to the cold tile. The giggle started as a reluctant hiccup then progressed rapidly into hysterical laughter as an episode of 'Married with Children' blurred through his perfect memory. Maybe it was all a big conspiracy! Yeah, that's it. All the Grays had stolen from Al Bundy were his socks. It only serves to reason that when the little fuckers came back they'd opt for the crotches of 'Fox Mulder's' underwear. Wonder what boxer crotches go for on Reticula? It was from his position on the floor that he noticed movement from beneath the bed. Knowledge finally dawned as bright as a computer generated super nova on an episode of Deep Space Nine. "Okay you little shit...prepare to die," he growled as he shoved one hand under the bed and gripped a furry little paw. Dana quietly slipped through their bedroom door and started at the unexpected sight of one of her husband's best assets glaring up at her as he knelt on all fours while reaching under the bed and cursing. "Let go of that, you little boxer eating bastard," Mulder snarled as he yanked on something that she couldn't see. "Wait until I get my hands on you...you'll be wearing Tweety Bird silk around your fucking little neck. Oooww....Shit!" he squeaked, jerking his hand back and bumping his head on the bed frame at the same time. Mulder scooted out from under the bed and chased the hairy little mongrel toward the bathroom without even noticing Dana's presence in the room. She smiled. A nude, running Mulder was something to behold even if the situation reminded her somewhat of a film clip from a 'Keystone Cop' movie. She hadn't had this much fun in ages. Too bad the video camera was still packed in the closet. This was definitely blackmail material. Riley made a sharp turn around the toilet and sprinted past Mulder's outstretched hand, barreled through the bedroom, between Dana's legs and out through the space between the door and the jam. Mulder followed close behind and came to a screeching halt just in time to prevent himself from running over his wife. Dana let her gaze drift over his now perspiring form and raised one questioning eyebrow. Mulder, feeling slightly self conscious at having been caught with his pants down, or off, or shredded, held out the tattered remains of his boxer shorts and in explanation, moaned woefully, "He ate 'Marvin.' "How do you know?" Scully asked, the laugh catching in her throat. Mulder took her by the hand and led her into the bathroom, then pointed to something in the corner by the tub. "He left circumstantial evidence," he growled. Dana stood over the little brown souvenir that Riley had left them and managed to smile at the scrap of material mixed in with the mess. Stained but still recognizable was the cartoon face of Marvin the Martian requesting them to 'Take me to your leader.' Chapter Five: Where's a Wonderland Wabbit Hole When You Need One? "Mulder?" Dana intoned in a sultry voice while waddling toward the bed. "What?" the disheveled man growled with consternation. God, she really was beginning to waddle. He thought it was cute. She felt like a bloated duck. "Come to bed," she soothed. Mulder sadly glanced down at the collected pile of crotchless underwear. "But...but," Fox stuttered, "He ate all of my boxers and I'm missing the game!" One corner of her mouth took a downward turn. "Fox..." she warned lightly, "You won't need the boxers and I guarantee that the home team won't have any trouble scoring. An devilish light shone from his eyes. "Are the monsters asleep?" "Yes." She grinned. "You sure? I made that false assumption once and nearly got my nuts blown off. I wouldn't want to suffer a coitus interruptus due to intruding munchkins with prying little eyes. I can just see myself trying to explain to Alex that their 'innocent' little angels actually did know about 'the nasty' before seeing it in graphic detail." "Agent Mulder," she admonished. "Hmmm..." "Get your beautiful boxerless butt over here!" He slowly ambled over to the bed and slid under the covers. "I just love forceful women...with large bellies" he moved down, planting a kiss on her bulging belly button, "And big tits," he added as he moved up to claim them as well. That last remark earned him a playful smack in the head that did little to deter his lips luscious glide toward their intended goal. Saturday Morning Rays of sunlight filtered through the bedroom window and landed squarely on Mulder's eyelids. He felt the warmth softly nudging him toward wakefulness yet he refused to open his eyes. 'Just a few more minutes' his mind cajoled, 'just a couple more moments of blissful peace' he prayed. He attempted to snuggle more closely to the other warm, soft body in the bed beside him but rolled into something cold and wet instead. The frigid dampness shocked his drowsy body into full awareness. "What the hell?" he muttered as his eyes flew open in surprise. There was a body beside him all right...but not the one he was expecting. Soft auburn curls peeked out from under the covers in the space between where he ended and Dana began. Soft auburn curls whose owner was cute, dimpled, and obviously unable or unwilling to make a much needed trip to the bathroom the night before. "Oh...for Christ sake," Mulder moaned quietly as he gently prodded Scully's shoulder. Just pray the little imp doesn't wake up before you can get yourself presentable 'That's all you need,' he thought morosely. Here he was in bed, au naturale, with a toddler clinging to him like a baby opossum. Explain that to your cousin when the little mouth blurts out to the world that Unkie Fox sleeps without his jammies. Good God. "Dana, wake up," he whispered, glancing at the munchkin and hoping that supergirl's ears were still in La La Land. "Hmm....not now Mulder, go back to sleep," Dana grumbled sleepily, rolling away from him. Reaching over from his precarious position on the edge of the bed, he gently slid his thumb down her cheek and tweaked the end of her nose. "Hey...wake up," he repeated hoarsely. Groggy eyelids fluttered open and a slightly impatient voice muttered. "What?" "Uh...we've got company," he replied in a low voice. Sudden alertness born of necessity jolted her brain into gear as she cautiously turned her head and followed his pointing finger down to the warm lump that had settled between them. 'Oh my God,' she mouthed silently, taking in their present state of 'undress,' "how did she get in here? Didn't you lock the door?" Dana asked accusingly. Mulder paused in thought. "Of course I locked it...I'm sure I did...pretty sure...maybe..." "Mulder? Jesus," she hissed under her breath, "You're the one with the amazing memory. Don't you know?" Dana raised one Spock-like eyebrow, tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. Shit Can't fine you for the word, if you don't say it out loud, he mused to himself. "Forgive me okay? I was just a tiny bit 'distracted' at the time and I just don't remember." Well, that answer seemed to satisfy her anyway. Chalk one up for the G-man. "Mulder, cough it up." "Cough what up?" he asked in genuine confusion. "The buck for the bad word," she replied with a sly smile. "But...I didn't say anything," he argued with a slight crack in his voice. "No...but you thought it," she said, trying to hold back a grin, "didn't you? And don't try lying to me. I can always tell when you're lying." This was not fair. To his knowledge, Scully wasn't psychic...so how did she know... Was he that easy to read? Nah, she just knew him to damn well. He sighed with resignation. "Okay, fine, but you're going to have to take a rain check on this one. I'm a little short of pockets right now which brings me back to our original dilemma," he said glancing back down at the sleeping Flora. "It's not like my boxer inventory is up to par. Since that furry little boxer-eating bastard's transformed all my damn underwear into surrogate chew toys, I'm at a loss to find a scrap of cloth big enough to cover my butt and no way am I squirming into to your bikinis. I leave that sort of thing to famous sports personalities," he plopped back down onto the pillow in frustration and added as an afterthought, "take an IOU for the 'damn' and 'bastard' cause if this keeps up I'm going to have to take out a loan or hock my gun." Dana chuckled lightly, reached down and picked up her undamaged bikinis from the floor where she'd hastily discarded them the night before and slipped them on. "I'll go get you a robe. My lingerie' is intact," she snickered as she carefully slid out of bed. Well, at least the dog wasn't stupid. Piece of shit...maybe. But not stupid. Somehow in that feeble little brain of his, instinct had told him that messing with Dana's undies would land him a one-way trip to doggy heaven, probably with her foot still permanently imprinted on his furry little butt. Why couldn't he demand that kind of respect? Face it Fox, you're a pushover. Every kid within a 100 mile radius knows it...even the fucking dog...crap. There goes another piece of my inherited fortune...Dana's going to have to get a bigger jar Dana returned wearing a pair of old sweatpants and Mulder's ragged Bear Whiz Beer tee shirt-- sans bra. Dropping his jeans on the bed beside him, she took in the slightly anxious gaze with which he favored his little cousin. "Um...can you ahh...find a quick and painless method of reversing this docking procedure without jarring the little tick into wakefulness?" he asked nonplused. Scully leaned over and gently but firmly disconnected Flora's arms and legs from around her husband's lanky frame giggling quietly as her mind played out a similar future scene featuring her own children. Unfortunately, Flora was no longer a heavy sleeper and woke up when Scully attempted to move her to the other side of the bed. Flora stared at Fox with wide, inquiring eyes. "Unkie Fox? Where's your jammies?" Mulder blushed and pulled the sheet a little tighter around himself, trying to look stern and serious, which is a difficult thing to do when your drawers are piled in a shredded heap on the floor and the love of your life is snorting like a rooting sow. "Riley ate them sweetheart," Mulder purred sarcastically, "I guess he was hungry." "Oh," was all Flora muttered as she dropped to the floor and ran out the door. Mulder raised one eyebrow, squinted his eyes, totally undone by Flora's lack of concern. "Oh?" he mumbled dejectedly, "Just...Oh?" "Face it Mulder, the wearable condition of your underwear just isn't on the top ten list of a toddlers' priorities in life. Get over it. Sometimes you overreact, you know that?" "I do?" he asked with surprise. "Yeah, you do." "Oh." Okay...maybe I do. Just a little. He smiled coyly and held her image in his eyes. She was beautiful and round and tired looking around the eyes. She should rest some more. It's the weekend for god's sake and work would come full blown soon enough on Monday. "I'll make breakfast," he announced to her proudly. This profound statement got only the minimal reaction of one raised eyebrow on her part. "Really," he added when she appeared not to take him seriously, "Anything but eggs, though...I'm kind of burned out on eggs." Dana chuckled lightly, stood on tip toes and kissed him gently on the lips. "I don't know if I want you messing around in my kitchen. Remember I once told you that I wouldn't let you near mine? I meant it. "But the kids have got to eat and I want to do this for you. Hell, I'm an Oxford trained psychologist. I can do this." With a little help from a god I'm not sure about, fate, or maybe a tiny bit of luck How hard could it be? Okay, so last time I ventured into a kitchen for the purposes of cooking real food was an exercise in disaster preparedness. That doesn't mean that I'll fuck it up this time too, does it? That's it Mulder, pump it up with the ol' 'you can do it' pep talk. A sudden feeling of anxiety edged its way into Mulder's psyche'. Did he just volunteer to make breakfast of his own free will? That's what it sounded like to me, chump a small voice in the back of his mind growled in disbelief. What's the big deal? he argued back. It's not like I'm totally incompetent in the kitchen. he rationalized. No...just severely handicapped the little voice taunted in response. "Okay, that's quite enough," he inadvertently whispered out loud. "What's that Mulder?" Scully asked as the corner of her mouth quirked upward in response to his little slip of the tongue. "Uh...nothing," he managed to mumble while straightening his posture and taking on what he hoped would convey a aura of confidence. "It's just that I make one lousy mistake and no one will ever let me forget it," he finally blurted out in frustration. "Mulderrrrr..." she deliberately drug out his name and flashed a hundred megawatt smile in his direction. "You slimed your cousin's kitchen with exploding chicken guts the first time you tried to use it. The second time you burned it down, then flooded it waist deep in soapy laundry water." She paused for effect then stated with feigned chagrin, "then last night I come home to find my kitchen cabinets resembling an object d' art that appears to have been done by Picasso on acid. Pardon me if I'm just a weeee bit apprehensive about leaving you in there all alone without adult supervision." "Oh come on," Fox said with indignation, "You know as well as I do that there were extenuating circumstances in play at the time." All revolving around three pint sized juvenile delinquents he thought silently. "And it wasn't all my fault." "Mulder, with you there are always extenuating circumstances. Just be careful. I like my kitchen the way it is and I don't think our insurance company will look kindly on us if we should have to make another claim within the next decade." Well she did have a point. His culinary track record had about as many black spots on it as a firehouse dog. He'd once told her that if he'd ever tried to cook anything more complicated than bagel bites or pop tarts to just get out his gun and shoot him because in the long run it'd be less painful. Now, he contemplated the reliability of her memory and the probability that she might just actually consider carrying out the request he'd made while in the throes of a cooking crisis. Buck up, Mulder...tally-ho...chin up and all that rot...This is your chance to redeem male pride and reputation not only for yourself but for all the other masculine shcmucks trying to justify a superior attitude toward the fair sex. The fate of the entire male population may depend on your performance on this mission. "Your mission should you decide to accept it..." he trailed off with an overdone British accent while slinking down the hallway toward the kitchen like a secret agent traversing a gauntlet. Dana's eyes sparkled with mirth as Mulder rounded the corner of the hallway humming the theme from mission impossible. "Da da...da Da, da da da da ....." Mulder of course, never would be a Tom Cruise, Dana thought with a smile but then that was Tom's misfortune wasn't it? 10:02 AM Mulder sat sheepishly at the kitchen table and mutely watched his impromptu family scarf down another box of sugar coated saucer cereal. He covertly stole a glance at Dana who was still glaring at him from across the table. Hastily he averted his eyes and stared back down at his coffee, now lukewarm with bits of congealed cream forming a white slick on top. The mug was one of his favorites and had the word "G-Man" affectionately printed on it in big bold letters. It might as well have read "Fido." He thought morosely, for he was most certainly in the proverbial dog house once again. God knows he hadn't planned on fucking up but shit happens...and usually to him. Mulder really felt bad about 'the incident.' In retrospect, he should have used the mix. Showing off in front of the kids was a mistake too, not one he was bound to forget very soon either. Dana would be hard pressed not to remind him of it at every possible opportunity. It was obviously clear while he was a bachelor, why his normal gourmet breakfast consisted of donuts and coffee. He wasn't stupid. He wasn't normally uncoordinated either. Why then, was this kind of activity always ending in disaster whenever he was involved? It was embarrassing and humiliating that a halfway intelligent human being like himself just couldn't seem to cope with something so fucking elementary as making a batch of crummy pancakes without a major crisis ensuing. If it weren't so damn tragic, it'd be goddamn hilarious. "I got the pancake off the ceiling," he offered guiltily, still noting her unwavering stare. "Someone should sue that Galloping Gourmet guy for misrepresentation," he added," he said it was easy and anyone could do it." Well, he did... "I'll clean the batter off the cabinets too, Okay? Guess I misread the directions. I thought it said 'yeast.' Must have been looking at the bread recipe. Doesn't yeast do the same thing as baking powder?...it was an honest mistake," he hedged, "I mean, it could happen to anyone, right?" Shit. She's still pissed. "Um...I'll get new curtains as soon as I can get what's left of them out of the garbage disposal," he sighed. Dana had gotten the whole story in several different versions from the visiting juvenile devil children. Her only real regret was not the mess on her ceiling or the mess on her cabinets, or even her ruined curtains. Her only real regret was not being there to see it happen. According to Cailin and company, Mulder, evidently while trying to prove his finesse in the kitchen, decided to make 'homemade' pancakes. A little too much yeast ( not baking powder) caused a slight volcanic 'batter' eruption that proceeded to cover the counter and a good portion of the cabinets. Undaunted by this little setback, Chef Mulder managed to get the batter remains into a pan and while attempting to 'flip' said remains like his gourmet counterpart on TV, ended up with a pancake stuck to the ceiling instead of the pan. Any normal man would have gotten a ladder. Mulder's not normal. My inventive genius decided to climb up on the counter to reach the damn thing, slipped on the goo that he of course didn't clean up first, grabbed my curtains in a reflex action on the way down, and accidentally bumped the disposal switch with his elbow. The rest is...history. While processing this whole scenario through her mind, Dana found it difficult not to fall to the floor in unchecked hysterical laughter. Keep your cool Scully-girl she told herself. This would be a great time to get that favor out of him that you need so desperately. He Owes you big time. "Mulder," shestated coolly, "I need a favor." "A favor?" he gulped quietly, "Anything for you, Scully." "I'm really glad you said that, Mulder. We'll talk about this later when the children are gone." Now his interest was really piqued. Wonder what kind of favor she has in mind? "When did Alex say he was picking up this menagerie?" Mulder asked hopefully. Hey, he wasn't one to renege on favors, especially the kind that required the absence of children. He just wished he knew what kind of 'favor' he would be required to perform. Dana smiled at his apparent eagerness and tried to suppress a grin. She could read his body language and the kind of favor he was contemplating held little resemblance to the favor she was going to talk him into. "I think he said he'd pick them up around 3 this afternoon," she replied. Mulder frowned. Three hours... He had to keep himself and those three little Atila the Hunsters out of trouble for three loooong hours? One long look around the room made Fox cringe. Dana's cabinets were shadowed with the remains of multicolored egg dye, remnants of pancake batter still clung to the kitchen counter and ceiling, shredded remains of brightly colored curtains protruded accusingly from the garbage disposal, and as he contemplated the results of culinary Armagedon, he watched a mangy mongrel with a stained, shaved behind drag his mangled boxer shorts across the room and under a chair. Oh sure no fucking problem. He'd lock them all in the damn pantry except they'd probably find a way to make homemade explosives from vinegar, baking soda and any number of otherwise harmless household items. Thanks to 'educational TV,' and Macgyver, Mr. Clean and Betty Crocker could now be listed as terrorists on America's Most Wanted. "All right, listen up," Mulder shouted to the fidgeting threesome with dubious enthusiasm, "It's time for Muldervision, the video choice of the future...better than big screen TV...more electrifying than digital surround sound...so real, it' almost like being there!" He shot Dana a look of betrayal as she gingerly retrieved her purse and keys and headed out of the kitchen and toward the door. "Don't be long, *Dear*, his voice echoed through the living room as the door clicked behind her. Waiting until he was sure Dana was out of hearing range, Mulder eyed each child with a conspiratorial, mischievous twinkle. "The coast is clear, the cat's away....Let' rock!" he yelled with childlike glee. Three confused children stared at their uncle like he'd grown two horns and a spiked tail. This was not in the rule book. Grownups weren't supposed to act silly, crazy, and totally irresponsible. That was their job. Taken completely by surprise, Caitlin whispered, almost fearfully, "what are we gonna do?" Mulder grinned from ear to ear. Ha HA...gotcha...weren't expecting that, were you. This change of tactics might just work after all. If you can't beat em'... "First thing we're going to do is make popcorn," he stated with jubilation. Three children took three giant steps backward. "Oh come on," Mulder pleaded, "Microwave popcorn I can handle...trust me" he wheedled. Tentatively they inched forward, still dubious of their uncle's assurances. After all he had told them earlier that making pancakes was indeed a piece of cake and they all saw the results of that debacle. "Second thing we're going to do," he drawled out while pulling open the refrigerator door, "is relieve the icebox of all this burdensome soda." Mulder reached in and started handing over the bottles to a very surprised but agreeable Duncan. Suddenly, Uncle Fox wasn't just the babysitting adult but a co-conspirator and they all proceeded to empty every cabinet of every snack food available to the free world. "And the third and final thing we're going to do is go to the stadium and watch a rousing game of athletic competition in its most primitive form." He loved satellite...any kind of sport you could ever want, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, rain or shine. "Hey Unk, how are we gonna go to the stadium and come back before Aunt Dana gets home?" Catlin asked with a puzzled expression. "Yeah how?" Flora chimed in, trying not to feel left out. "I told you," Fox whispered secretively, "Muldervision....shhhh...." he hissed quietly, putting his finger to his lips and tip-toed into the living room. Saturday Dana parked the car in front of the house and paused in thought. She felt a little guilty. Okay, major guilty. First, because she'd volunteered Mulder to play the Easter Bunny at the family Easter egg hunt without bothering to mention it to him. Well, they were in a bind. The only suit left in town appeared to be one made for a rather tall individual and no one in her family fit the bill, especially not her brother, Bill, who usually played the part. So, she'd cast Mulder in the role. After all what was family for if not to help each other out in a jam? Mulder, of course, just might not see it that way. The second thing she felt badly about was that she'd left him all alone again with his cousin's children to fend for himself while she went out to retrieve the afore mentioned costume. This was going to take some heavy finagling on her part and some major concessions on his. She knew he'd argue, complain, and pout but in the end...he'd do it because she knew Mulder...was Mulder. He knew first hand the pain of disappointment and would never willingly subject a child to it if there was any way around it. Her husband talked a good game and could more than hold his own in the testosterone jungle but beneath all the pretense and posturing, he was also a gentle, and loving man who often cared too much for his own good. Dana was in fact so deep in Mulder musings that she nearly collided with good old cousin Alex and his wife as they vied for sidewalk positions outside her home. God, this was the second time in 24 hours that she'd almost run over someone. It's time to stop walking around with your head in the clouds and pay attention to what you're doing before you seriously injure some innocent bystander with your belly. Wouldn't that be something...the first known pedestrian fatality due to pregnancy. "My god," she mumbled, "That sounds like something Mulder would say." "What was that, Dana?" Alex inquired as he guided her up the front steps. "Nothing," she replied, "I just had a disturbing thought." "What's in the bag?" Catie asked, eying the package curiously. "My undoing," Dana sighed as she walked through the foyer. "Ohhh," Catie moaned when she saw the Costume Shop logo on the box peaking out from beneath the paper covering, "haven't told him yet, huh?" Dana frowned briefly and tucked the bag away on the top shelf of the hall closet. "Well, no...not yet." "Good grief, woman," Alex whispered, "don't you think you better let him in on it soon? That's not the kind of thing you spring on a guy at the last minute." Dana drew her brows together with contention. "That's exactly the kind of thing you spring on a guy at the last minute." She smiled, "gives him less time to think about reasons for not doing it." "Females," Alex grumbled, "underhanded, circumventing, manipulating..." he drifted off as Catie threw a dirty look his way. "...Beautiful, enchanting, graceful, endearing..." he added when he caught the look. "Hey, I just think..." he began before being interrupted by the loud sound of cheering coming from the general direction of the living room. "What in the hell is that?" Dana asked, almost afraid that she'd get an answer. Quietly the trio moved to the living room doorway and stared in disbelief. Three mouths hung open in muted surprise. Dana decided that her mouth was in this position a little more often since meeting Mulder than even she initially expected. One suspect adult and three definite children sprawled on various pieces of living room furniture. That in itself wouldn't have been cause for alarm. The sight was a little more disturbing when she noticed the fact that each child and yes, that included Fox was holding a set of binoculars to his/her eyes as they watched the modest sized TV. Finally, it was the collection of empty soda bottles, cups, and a popcorn laden floor that was putting her in a major funk and as she stared at the back of their heads another cheer went up. "He aims, he shoots, he scores!!!" Mulder yelled, jumping up from the couch as though someone had set his pants on fire. From the looks of this place...someone just might She thought rabidly. Duncan hissed and booed at the TV and threw popcorn at the screen. "Don't be angry my son," Mulder chided the boy in a vaguely familiar Obi Wan tone, "Your guy couldn't shoot ducks at the fair with a cannon let alone hoops...pay up." Fox bent over and snatched three dollar bills from Duncan's hand, Caitlin took two dollars, and Flora plucked out one and stuck out her tongue. "Let this be one of life's little lessons," Mulder added in the same voice, "Don't put all your eggs in one basket...hedge your bet a little." "Oh my GOD!" Scully managed to gasp along with Alex and Catie. "Mulder...what in the name of heaven do you think you're doing?" she added, while taking in the shocked look on her companions' faces. Fox took in a sharp breath. Caught... He could see his trial taking place behind her eyes and the case for the defense was looking mighty thin. "Um....ah...you said to entertain them and keep them out of trouble," he replied meekly. "I did." Those clear, innocent, hazel eyes looked up at her with that patented 'don't hurt me I won't do it again' expression that he employed so well and met with her steely blue 'don't give me that crap' stare. "Cheese it, the Feds," he muttered, "All bets are off." Fox wasn't sure but at that moment he was almost certain that he could feel his nuts employing that Tibetan thing where they shrink up into your abdomen. She didn't buy the little boy look and evidently, neither did his cousin, Alex. Guess you really fucked up this time, Sport. Damn. Okay, what now? Was she going to arrest him for contributing to the delinquency of a minor...or several? he silently asked himself with trepidation. Nah, she couldn't get him on that one. They were already delinquent without any help from him. Well, maybe she was having doubts about his fathering capabilities. Lord knows, he was. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. Christ Mulder, teaching kids to gamble is really low, especially when you don't let them win God, he wished that she'd say something...anything. Come on Dana. Yell, scream, tell me what an incredible ass I am Nope, no such luck. So...she's just going to stand there fuming with her hands on her hips and make me wish that the floor would open up and swallow me like a scene from Poltergeist. At this point, I'd go willingly and consider myself lucky Finally, Fox Mulder dropped his eyes to the floor and shuffled his feet nervously. "I'm in trouble, huh," he managed to croak in a uncharacteristically quiet voice. Dana considered the man before her. For an intelligent, no make that brilliant, man, her husband had the common sense of a lemming and her strict Catholic upbringing couldn't fathom what possessed him to undermine the moral fiber of the children in question. Well, maybe that was not quite fair. The children in question probably knew more about gambling than he did since his first foray into the subject had been his recent little gambling stint in Reno and these guys, especially Duncan, had evidently whittled Mulder down to his last dollar before chance "luck" had turned his way at the very end. Still, this was unacceptable behavior for an adult and she'd have to have a very long talk with him about it...but not here and not now. "Yes, you are," Dana stated in a matter of fact tone. Mulder glanced guiltily at his cousin and his wife. "I'm...I'm sorry," he stuttered self-consciously, "Guess I just didn't think. I mean, I'm not used to being around kids and it didn't seem wrong at the time. I haven't had much practice...not in 25 years, and everybody knows how that turned out," he choked. Turning back to Dana, he suddenly felt the inadequacies and guilt of that twelve-year-old boy wrap around his psyche and squeeze until breathing became physically painful. "Maybe you married the wrong guy," he gasped suddenly, "I've screwed up and my kids aren't even here yet...Jesus, Dana," he moaned while escaping from the living room, "Jesus, I don't want to mess up like he did. They'd be better off with someone else, someone normal," he added as he rushed into the bedroom. The words, "God, "I'm so damn screwed up," drifted into the living room as he shut the door behind him. There was no doubt in anyone's mind who the he was who Mulder referred to. Dana looked at Alex and Catie, expecting anger and perhaps a little outrage over the incident but instead found understanding and forgiveness in their eyes. "I'm truly sorry about this," she apologized. Alex grinned and pulled Dana into a hug. "Hey, no harm done. Don't be too hard on him, Dana. Adjusting to kids wasn't easy for me either and I made some major screw ups in the beginning but everything works out eventually. "You make sure you tell Mulder that he couldn't be like him even if he tried. You make sure he knows that. He's a good guy. It's not in him to be anything else." Catie nodded enthusiastically. "He's had some major bum raps in his life. Don't let him talk himself out of the happiness he deserves. You know better than I do that he's got a tendency to rag on himself for perfectly normal mistakes and I know for a fact that he really didn't mean what he said about you marrying the wrong guy. The man loves you more than life." "Thanks for the pep talk, guys but you haven't told me anything that I don't already know. He'll be okay. He just needs to sulk for a while. Geez, and after all that angst I'm going to have to talk him into a Bunny suit? "See you tomorrow at my mom's?" she asked hopefully. "Sure thing, Dana," Catie replied, "Let's hope the Easter bunny is in a good mood," she added with a wink. "Oh, I'm sure he will be," Dana smiled over the children's heads, "I intend to give him an attitude adjustment later tonight." Flora reached up and tugged on Dana's skirt. "You know Easser Bummy?" she whispered with wide-eyed wonder. Dana chuckled lightly. "I've met him a few times." Flora looked up thoughtfully. "He like lil' kids? He nice bummy?" she asked curiously. Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Dana took a deep breath and sighed. "He's big, he's cuddly, gentle, loving, and even though he's not around children most of the year...he's a real softy for little kids and loves them very much." Flora nodded her head in acceptance and appeared suitably impressed. Dana, however, heard Kaitlin and Duncan snigger to each other as they walked out the door. "There's no Easter bunny," Kaitlin whispered to her brother confidentially, "It's just Uncle Fox in a stupid bunny suit." "Yeah, but he cares enough to act stupid for a bunch of little kids so don't tell Flora," Duncan whispered back. A smile caressed Dana's face as she slowly shut the door behind her. The gig is up, Mulder. They've got your number Now to convince him... Chapter Six: Or the Bunny Wore a Badge Dana turned slowly away from her departing company with a deep sigh and made her way across her once tidy living room. Heading toward their bedroom, she felt the crunch of popcorn kernels beneath her feet and fought the urge to drag out the vacuum cleaner and suck up everything not nailed down. Right now, however, there was someone a little more important that needed her undivided attention and he waited for her behind the closed door. "Probably in a major funk too," she muttered, preparing herself for the dark mood he'd more than likely worked himself into. Mulder sat on the soft floral comforter covering their bed and fumed. He was angry with himself for once more contributing a dark cloud to an otherwise joyful holiday. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? Why did everything have to remind him of his past sorrows, crappy family life, and lingering guilt over something that he intellectually realized was not his fault? Mulder, you're a Schmuck...a real dickheaded, shit-eating, basket case Few people were lucky enough to find someone like Dana. He still found it difficult to believe even after all these years that someone so wonderful could actually love him, emotional baggage, bad habits, and all. There was no reason in hell for him to be depressed, upset, or melancholy, so why did he feel a touch of all three? Asshole He was just about to go round three with himself when the bedroom door opened and Scully walked in. "Hi," Dana whispered softly and smiled. "Hi," he muttered quietly in reply as one corner of his mouth fought the upward tug of a smile. "I'm a jerk," he stated in a deliberately factual tone. "Yeah, but you're mine," she added ruefully while padding across the room. Slowly she eased herself down on the bed beside him, reached over and gently squeezed his thigh. This time the smile broke free. "You didn't have to agree so easily," he chuckled partly to himself. "Mulder?" She reached up and delicately swept away the section of rogue hair that constantly hovered over one eye. "Mulder..." she repeated, making certain that she held his undivided attention. "I want you to know that I have the utmost faith in your abilities as friend, lover, husband, and ...father. I believe in you, Fox. I believe you will face this challenge with the same determination and intensity that you have always had with everything else because you don't know any other way. I will help you. You know that don't you?" "Yes, yes I know that...It's just...I'm so gut-wrenchingly terrified," he finally admitted, "I'm so damn scared of making a mistake. Scully, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. That was really stupid...teaching kids how to gamble. What a lame thing to do. It just seemed fun and I didn't see any harm. What if my judgment is always suspect? I just don't want to screw up," he sighed. Dana patted the thigh under her hand. "You're going to screw up. I'm going to screw up. That's life, Mulder. You make mistakes and you learn. I think our children will survive. Stop giving yourself needless anxiety. There will be enough of the real thing when the time comes." "Oh thanks for the upbeat pep talk, Scully, that makes me feel soooo much better.. My own personal cheerleader. As always...I owe you." "Yes you do. Now how am I going to exact payment?" "I'm all yours. Do with me what you will," he leered. "Is that a promise?" she asked coyly. "Cross my heart," he replied seductively. "Stay right there," she ordered. Quickly, she jumped off of the bed and ran, or rather, bounced out the door. Mulder eyed her suspiciously. Where in the hell is she going? Something's up and he wasn't certain he liked the way she'd maneuvered him into a promise. She knew he'd never renege on a promise. It was that damn honor' thing. Aunt Carol had said there was always an inbred Scottish thing about honor' and he'd just have to learn to live with it. Needless to say, his father wasn't Scottish. If he had been, maybe he could have avoided a whole lot of grief. Dana returned through the door with a large box and from that large box, she pulled out something very large white and fluffy. It took a few seconds for the object and her intent to register in his brain and a few more seconds longer than that before he could find his voice. Jumping up suddenly, he bellowed, "No! No way, no how, nah uh, not in a million years. You're kidding...right?" "Fox...please? You promised. The children will be so disappointed," she said sadly, her bottom lip slightly protruding. Oh no. Not the damn pout. Not that goddamn, fucking pout. Not the damn pout, the promise, and disappointed children too. This was not a fair fight. This was sneaky. This was...working. Shit, he owed her his life many times over and if it took a freaking bunny suit to make her happy, well so be it. He realized suddenly that he'd don the fucking ass end of a donkey suit and bray like a mule in the middle of Grand Central Station if it'd put a smile on her face. Christ, when did he become so pussy whipped? Who cared. Come to think of it, he kinda like those two words in the same sentence...hmm. Knock it off, Mulder...you perverted bitch you "Fox," she called his name again since he seemed to be elsewhere and not listening. "Hmm, what?" He looked at her with a startled expression. "The costume, Fox. Please?" she pleaded, then held her breath. "Yeah, right...okay," he replied reluctantly. "But..." he added belligerently, "We leave at five in the morning while it's still dark. If I have to travel in this get up, the fewer people who see it, the better. Deal?" "Deal," she agreed. Geez, that was a hell of lot easier than I was expecting "Now," he drawled with his smokey heavy-lidded hazel eyes peering from what had become narrowing slits of desire, "what kind of reward do I get for being so magnanimous?" Knew it was too easy "I'm sure you can think of something imaginative, can't you?" "Oh Scully, imagination is my middle name. How's about giving Ol' Thumper here some inspiration," he growled with a ferocity that reminded her of the big bad wolf. Oh yeah, Scully thought as reached for the lamp and turned out the light, this is good...this is very good. Red riding hood...eat your heart out. Night Moves Motel Earl March paced back and forth across the littered floor of the dirty, little room like a cat in a cage. Things were not looking up for him and his less than brilliant brother, Harley. D.C. seemed like such an uppity town. Stupid place required a diploma just to pick up the damn garbage or sweep a floor and Earl quickly discovered that the nation's capitol had little to offer two country boys with a tenth grade education. Harley couldn't take it any more. Earl's constant movement was making him dizzy. "Hey, Earl, plant it somewhere, will ya? All this draggin' your ass up one side an down tuther is makin' me wanna puke. We still got five bucks ya know. I mean it hain't like we're broke or nuthin'" "Five bucks? Five fuckin' lousy bucks?" Earl snarled, "Five bucks wouldn't buy horseshit at the rodeo." "Uh, Earl...Why'd ya wanna buy horseshit?" Harley asked with a puzzled expression. "Jesus H. Christ, Harley, sometimes I'ma wonderin' ifin' one of them Caleb County morons hadn't done snuck into the hospital an switched ya at birth cause there hain't no way in hell I could have a brother dumber than sheep shit." Earl shrugged his shoulders and hung his head with a sigh. "It's a figur of speech, Harley," Earl explained patiently like he was talking to a child. "It jus means that five bucks don't buy nuthin' Okay?" "Shit, Earl," Harley complained, "hain't no need to get nasty. Guess we're jus gonna have to borry some dough from that Stop and Shop' up the street. You got daddy's gun?" Earl pulled at his hair in exasperation. "No, Harley, I'ma gonna stick up the place with a fuckin' sling shot. Yeah, I got the gun. It's even got a couple a bullets in it too so I'm doin' the holdin' up. You'd probably shoot yer fool foot off." Harley picked his nose and wiped the offending booger off on his ratty jeans. "Damn it, Harley," Earl grumbled while swatting his brother's hand away from his clothes, We hain't never gonna be respectable type people if ya keep doin' gross stuf like that. Quit boogerin' up yer clothes. For god's sake...use yer arm." "When we gonna make the withdrawl?" Apparently lost in thought, Earl mumbled, "Oh, early mornin' I guess --maybe 5 or 6 o'clock. Not many descriminatin' shoppers wanderin' the aisles on Easter mornin' so everythin' should come off quick and easy. I wanna go home, Harley. I've had my fill of D.C. and it sucks Big Time. Go to sleep, son, cause I'm gettin' yer lazy ass outta bed at 4 am. Mulder Residence One dainty hand reached out from beneath the covers and abruptly silenced the blaring sounds of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' that had awakened her from blissful sleep. Rolling over, she silently considered the unnatural beauty of the man who was snuggled beside her, clutching his pillow possessively to his bare chest. She smiled contentedly. Mulder had once again proven the limitless boundaries of his fertile imagination. He was wrong, though, she thought with amusement. "Imagination" should undeniably be his *first* name not his middle one. Each time she thought she knew everything about him, he would surprise her. He'd stirred responses in nerve endings she'd not even known existed. Fox was a drug and she was a hopeless addict who prayed that a *cure* would never be found. At first she had been concerned that her increasing girth would hamper the more sensuous aspects of their relationship but now she realized that her fears were unfounded. Last night had been proof enough of that. Snaking her hand toward him, Dana lightly slid one fingertip down his arm causing it to twitch in response. When that failed to awaken him, she wet her lips and suckled on the male nubbin of a nipple closest to her and chuckled at the resulting jerk of his body. That got his attention Letting her eyes travel up his lean form, her gaze finally came to rest on two lazy eyes still heavy with sleep. "Rise and shine, Mulder," she greeted him happily. Mulder grunted sleepily, rolled away from her, and relocated the pillow from his chest to over his head. "Fox, come on. Get up! You're the one who wanted to get this over with early," she reminded the lump that was curled up under the sheet. All she got for her effort was a muffled, "sure, fine...whatever." "Okay, you asked for it," she muttered softly as she reached over, grabbed the sheet, and yanked it down toward his ankles and off the bed. "I Said... get up, G-Man!" Mulder rolled over onto his back with a weary sigh, "You're a mean and heartless woman, Scully," he moaned with resignation, "And in case you haven't noticed...I am up." Oh, she noticed all right. An early morning hard-on that impressive would be nearly impossible to overlook and although making good use of such an opportunity was incredibly tempting, going down that road right now would definitely cost them precious time. If he wanted to get to her mother's before daylight, they'd have to leave in half an hour. Experience had taught her that the term "quickie" just didn't exist in Fox Mulder's vocabulary so she reluctantly shoved his ass out of bed. "Go to the bathroom, Fox. We don't have time to remedy the problem creatively." The sleepy, rumpled man slowly fumbled his way toward the bathroom and blindly bumped into the door frame on the way in. "Do I really have to do this?" he asked pathetically over the sound of running water. "Yes," she yelled back, then chuckled quietly to herself. "I was afraid you were going to say that," he mumbled while emerging from the cloud of steam that he'd created like a ship escaping the shroud of a fog bank. Ambling over to the vanity chair, he hauled up the furry white suit and inspected the costume with complete and utter disdain. "What am I supposed to wear under this...this..*.thing*?" he asked in his most annoying, whiny voice. "And don't say boxers' because we both know the remains of mine are all on their way to the local landfill," he added grimly. Dana bit back a giggle, retrieved a set of clothes from their dresser, and placed them in his free hand. Try running shorts and a T-shirt. I'll bring a change of clothes for you in the car. I imagine it will get a little warm in there," she said, pointing to the suit, "so the less clothes, the better. Now will you please get dressed? It's getting late." Mulder dutifully slipped into his shorts and T-shirt then cautiously stepped into his furry prison. "Gee, Scully, What form of humiliation do you have planned for me on Halloween?" "Quit complaining, Mulder, or the Easter Bunny will be a fond memory...How does Marilyn Manson sound?" "Oh, right," he snorted, "put me in a fucking corset, garter belt, fishnet stockings with my ass cheerily greeting an unsuspecting public. Really, Dana, I don't think the world at large is ready for Fox Mulder in drag. "Why not? I for one think you've got a great ass," she said narrowing her eyes and licking her lips. After several minutes of fruitless struggle, he finally managed to get the damn costume on. No thanks to Dana's distractions. There was one minor problem, however... Dana was silent witness to the duel between man and bunny and from her point of view, bunny was winning. She resisted the urge to intervene until he could overcome his ego and stubbornness enough to ask for help...at least that's what she tried to tell herself. In actuality, the whole scenario was just entirely too much fun to watch...to stop. Finally, Mulder hunched his shoulders forward in defeat. You need help with this, he finally admitted to himself. Look at her. She's just waiting for you to crack under pressure. He eyed her confident stance of superiority, arms crossed...foot tapping. She's the reason you're in this predicament in the first place. Okay, that's not quite fair, he rationalized. She tricked you. She shouldn't have had to maneuver you into this. She should have been able to ask you to do this without feeling the need for subterfuge or coercion, he reminded himself guiltily. All right. Go ahead. Ask her but do it in a manly way and for god's sake --- don't whine. He was adorable... absolutely, positively adorable. This was an a number one Kodak moment and she'd be damned if she'd miss it. He had been so wrapped up with the Easter Bunny war that he hadn't noticed her trek to the closet to retrieve the camera. The bright flashes of light caught Mulder by surprise and he nearly fell over his extra large bunny feet. Dana snapped off the rest of the pictures, took the roll from the camera and expertly palmed it under a pillow. "Blackmail material, Mulder," she laughed while his rapidly blinking eyes tried to clear away the floating black splotches in front of his eyes. "Those pictures will never see the light of day," he vowed with certainty, "And I promise sweet revenge if by some miracle they do. Now if it's not too much trouble, could you find time out of your paparazzi career to zip this blasted thing up? Why in the hell they put the zipper in the back is beyond me. You'd think I was wearing a f....crummy evening gown or something." Dana walked across the room and stepped behind him. "Mulder, you're going to have to get on your knees," she informed him. One eyebrow crawled upward beneath his unruly hair. "Just what are you proposing now? Need I remind you that as the Easter Bunny any and all questionable behavior would be contradictory to the overall innocence of the myth...however, certain exemptions' can be made if such...behavior is with an adult bunny admirer and out of the immediate view of minors?" She grabbed a handful of tush as he lowered himself to the floor. "Don't get melodramatic. You're too tall and I can't climb on a chair to zip you up." Mulder cringed at the sound of the zipper being drawn up and he suddenly felt very claustrophobic. It was the same sound he'd heard at crime scenes when they sealed up the body bags. Oh, great analogy, Mulder. Think nice thoughts. He stood up awkwardly and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the floor length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Dana nodded her head in approval. "You look wonderful!" she exclaimed. Mulder studied his reflection one more time trying to see if she saw something that he didn't. "I feel ridiculous," he complained. "Yes, but the children will love it," she replied cheerfully. "They better," he grumbled. She turned him around slowly, reached up and tried to straighten one floppy ear that persistently drooped down over his forehead and over one eye. "Figures," she said with a grin. "Now all we have to worry about is the make-up." Mulder looked down at her in alarm. "I was just kidding about being in drag...make-up? What make-up?" Dana looked back up to him with surprise written plainly on her face. "Well, you honestly didn't think you could appear to the children in a bunny suit with a Mulder face.' did you?" she asked sternly while dragging him over and planting his puffy little bunny bottom on the bed. Actually, he didn't really have sufficient time to think that far ahead. "Well...uh...no, I guess not," he hedged. "Just sit still, relax, and don't talk," Dana said in a tone that demanded compliance, "this will only take a few minutes." Mulder sighed, "seems like you've done this before." "Yes," she said with a gentle smile, "every Easter for the last twelve years and Bill was every bit as fidgety as you. Hold still, damn it." Washington Ave Two lone shadows crouched behind an overflowing dumpster a block away from the 24 hour Stop and Shop. The roads were deserted except for an occasional car. The ever-present wino sat drunkenly on the curb outside the little store and studied the hole patterns on the soles of his dirty shoes. "You sure bout' doin' this, Earl? Hain't this kinda dangerous?" Earl suddenly cleared his throat, turned and spit a hocker into the alley behind them. "The way I see it, we hain't got a hell of a lot of choices here, Harley. We need money and they have it," he explained, pointing to the store. "Ya remember that Robin Hood story ma used to tell us?" Harley smiled in remembrance. "Yeah, sure I do. What's that gotta do with us?" Earl pulled out the gun and rechecked the bullets for the hundredth time. "Well, they's the rich and we's the poor...but not fer much longer," he snickered. "Hey Earl?" "What is it now?" Earl responded, annoyed beyond reason. He was losing patience at an alarming rate and if Harley kept up with these stupid questions, he'd might be forced to reduce his bullet supply by one. Why don't he know when to jus shut up? "Ya sure you know how ta use that there gun?" That's the last straw. Brother or no brother. This man was his flesh and blood and he was a complete moron. "I wouldn'ta brung the damn thing ifin' I didn't, stupid. Cain't be that hard a thing to do. Ya jus point it and pull the trigger. Besides, I hain't gonna hafta really shoot it anyways." Earl gazed at the store impatiently. "How long can that damn bum look at his fuckin' shoes? As soon as he leaves we can get this over with." "Why we gotta wait fer the wino?" "Jesus, Harley, hain't ya ever heard of witnesses?" "Well, sure, but hain't the cashier a witness too?" "Idiot! We'll be wearin' masks." "We got masks?" "Yeah, Harley," Earl replied patiently..."We got masks. Here..." he hissed, taking something from beneath his shirt and handing it to his brother. Harley fumbled with the object and looked up with confusion. "This here looks like a tater sack." "That's cause it is a dang tater sack. Good grief. Just cut eye holes in the thing with yer knife and stick it over your head. Drunk's gone. You ready?" "Yeah, guess so." "Okay, let's go," he growled, the words muffed behind the cloth bag. "What'd ya say Earl?" Earl moaned in frustration and lifted the bottom of the sack up to speak. "I *said*, Come on, Pinhead." "Oh." Mulder residence Mulder stood paralyzed in the front doorway of the house like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Finally finding his voice, he hissed crankily, "Turn off your goddamn brights, Scully. I'm not doing a song and dance here so douse the spotlight, Okay? Oh yeah, ha! ha! Very funny. In this get up all I need are mean dogs and moving vehicles. Give a guy a break, will you?" Nice touch, Dana. Just wake up the whole neighborhood while your at it...just place a huge neon sign over the porch saying Harvey lives here.'" Dana gave a snort as she slid out of the driver's seat of the car and walked up through the shadow to the front steps. "Where's your sense of humor, G-man?" "I left it with the cute' lil' ol' cottontail that you so adeptly closed in the bathroom door," he whispered in a low menacing voice. "Come on Fox, it was an accident," she said withholding a guffaw that was just begging to be set free. "Stop complaining, it's better than a stina henda luk.'" "A what?" It sounds vaguely Celtic but her accent stinks "A stone behind the ear," she winked. Oh god, Scully's picking up quaint Scottish sayings from my deranged aunt and butchering them beyond all recognition. How special. "You've been hanging around Aunt Carol again, haven't you? Better watch yourself or innocuous Scottish phrases will be the least of your problems. You'll start keeping goats in the kitchen, booze in the fish tank, and sticking your nose into everybody's business. I'm lucky the only thing that got stuck in door was a piece of fuzz or we'd definitely have a limited family base." Just quit stalling and get in the damn car, Mulder. It's no big deal. The safety pin will hold your tail on until we get to mom's so just chill out." "Easier said than done," he grunted as he carefully lowered himself into the passenger seat, slowly pulling his long legs and enormous feet into the car after him. He just heard the car door click shut when Dana shouted, "Mulder wait!" Oh bloody hell. Now what? He couldn't hear her voice through the closed window so he clumsily rolled it down. Damn bunny paws...it's like those stupid mittens mom used to make me wear in kindergarten "What?" he asked, his voice cracking like a nervous teenager on his first date. "Did my tail come off again?" Dana smiled. "No, but your right ear is closed in the door." Figures Mulder fumbled with the door handle and finally managed to free the captive ear. "Does Bill have this much trouble?" he asked tiredly. "No, but then he's had twelve years to practice. You're just an...apprentice bunny," she pointed out. "Oh gee thanks, Scully. I feel much better now." "Don't mention it," she replied over her shoulder as she walked around the front of the car and got into the driver's seat. Stop and Shop "All right Mr...." Earl squinted at the man's name tag. "Roberson, jus do what I tells ya an everythin will be jus fine and dandy." Earl waved the gun toward the cash register and ordered the man to open the drawer. "All I need is a couple hundred bucks. Ya can keep the rest. I hain't a greedy man. I jus need what I need. Anybody comin?" he asked the other man who was looking over his shoulder. "Don't see nobody yet, Earl," Harley answered. Earl elbowed him in the ribs and whispered under his breath, "Christ almighty, you moron, why don'tcha jus give the man our fuckin' address while yer at it." "I'm sorry. It jus slipped out," Harley cried out in apology. "Well, jus slip it back in, damn it." "As I was sayin'" Earl continued, returning his attention to the clerk, Open the damn drawer and gimme the money." The frightened man stood motionless, watching as Earl carelessly waved the gun around as he spoke. "What'sa matter," Earl asked. "Ya don't speak English or somethin?" He pointed at the register with the gun and repeated, "I said, Open the damn drawer!" "I...I...can't," stuttered Mr. Roberson, "not unless I make a sale," he added. Earl looked annoyed. "Listen. Ifin' I had the goddamn money ta buy somethin,' I wouldn'ta be needin' to do this...now would I?" Mr. Roberson nodded nervously. "No sir, I guess not but you see the machine won't open unless I make a sale. I don't have a key." Earl looked over at Harley. "Go find somethin' ya wanna buy and make it quick, son," he instructed. Harley nodded and roamed down one of the dusty aisle. Gee, Whatta I want? There's so much stuff here. When ya hain't worryin about what it costs everythin looks good "Hey, the beef jerky looks real tasty. No...maybe some of them moonpies...or a couple Yoohoos," Harley yelled across the store. Earl dropped his elbow to the counter and rested his forehead briefly on hammer of the gun. "Hit don't matter, you pea brain, jus pick somethin'...anythin' and come on," Earl spit out sharply, his voice betraying his irritation. Harley came to the front of the store with an armful of potato chips, beef jerky, a box of moonpies, two Yoohoos, and a couple chocolate Easter Bunnies. "This Okay?" he asked. "It jus fine," Earl growled, "put it on the counter an let's get this over with...plu....eeese." Mr. Roberson shakily began ringing up the merchandise. Mulder's Car Mulder gasped in pain. "Ow....shit." Dana jerked a sideways glance in his direction. "What? What's wrong?" "You want to know what's wrong? Do you?" he asked through a grimace. "Yes, Mulder. Yes, I want to know. I have an inquiring mind. Do tell me," she replied in exasperation. "Okay, I'll tell you. I think your temporary patch job on the bunny tail was just that...temporary. Something painfully sharp is jabbing me in the ass and I guarantee... it's Not pleasant. I've always wanted to try acupuncture but this isn't exactly what I had in mind, thank you very much." Dana sighed. This was almost more trouble than it was worth. "We're going to have to stop for soda anyway since Someone decided it would be great fun to drink everything we bought for the party. What were you thinking...giving all that soda to a bunch of kids?" "Oh now it's all my fault," his words grated belligerently. "If the shoe fits....Oh...maybe not," she snickered looking down at his furry feet. Mulder took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Let's just pull over to that Stop and Go and pick up some soda, okay?" As they pulled into the parking lot, Mulder caught a flash of metal from what appeared to be two customers at the check out. "Oh fucking shit! Why does this crap always happen to me...Huh? Just one goddamn day ...just one day. Dana, 211 in progress. Call for back up," he snarled, grabbing his gun clumsily from the glove compartment, while trying to extricate his bulk from the confines of the car. "Mulder, you're a bunny," she reminded him as he made his way toward the store entrance. "Yeah, and I'm one really pissed off mother fucker of a rodent too...Bugs Bunny with an attitude. I don't need this," he complained quietly. Scully grabbed the cell phone and contacted 911. Why in the hell did they want her damn badge number? She didn't have time for their bureaucratic bullshit protocols. Her partner was going into a possibly explosive situation and she belonged by his side not wasting time on the fucking phone. Stop and Go Mr. Roberson finished ringing up the merchandise. "That'll be 10.48." Earl shoved his free hand in his pocket and brought out a five dollar bill. "This is all I got," he slammed the bill on the counter. "Now open the fuckin' drawer." "But it won't open if the amount tendered isn't more than the sale," Mr. Roberson explained. Earl was totally out of patience. "I don't give a fuck. Type in somethin' and get it open or I'mma gonna open it the hard way with yer head. Got it, jack?" Earl shouted, waving the gun at the man's head. "Whatever you say mister," Mr. Roberson said with a shaking voice. The drawer came open about the same time as a big white blur busted through the front door. "Federal Agent! Drop your weapon," the big white thing yelled. Harley spun around and froze but Earl kept his focus on the terrified clerk in front of him, the gun visibly shaking in his hands.. "Hey Earl?" "What?" Earl screamed. "It's the goddamn Easter Bunny and he's got a gun and says he's a Fed. "Earl?' Harley paused, "this hain't fair. How come we cain't get a job cause we got no diploma but the goddamn government hire's the fuckin Easter Bunny?" "Is this a trick question, Harley or you been into the rot gut again. Hain't I told ya about drinking that shit? Any brains ya got musta leaked out yer ear." "I'd listen to him if I were you, *Earl*, a low sarcastic voice replied. This bunny's got a badge, he's had a real crappy weekend, and he'd sure hate to finish it off by wacking two escapees from Green *Fucking* Acres. Turn around slowly and drop the fucking, goddamn gun you stupid shithead." Earl slowly turned around and stared in disbelief before dropping the gun on the floor. Unfortunately, it was an old gun that fired off a round when it hit the ground. Four men dove for the floor as the bullet ricocheted off the drink machine, went through a Bud barrel and whizzed over Mulder and into an Easter display, breaking a large bottle of vinegar that dribbled the foul smelling stuff all over the fur on top of Mulder's head. The building was suddenly alive with blue uniforms and one very worried redhead. "Mulder, are you okay?" she yelled worriedly as she ran to his side. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... fu..." he stopped with his mouth partially open and emitted a sound that fell somewhere between a sqeak and a moan. "Fine. Did the D.C. cops apprehend the Ziffel Twins'? I'll bet one of them is named Arnold but right now...I couldn't say which." Dana wrinkled her nose as she stooped beside him on the floor. "God Mulder, you smell like a tub full of Massengil Mulder let his head fall back and closed his eyes. Just take a deep cleansing breath, he told himself, and everything will be a okay. Yeah...right... and the Cadburry Bunny is my long lost cousin Dana studied the love of her life as he sat, sprawled on the convenience store linoleum, adrift in a small lake of Mussleman's vinegar. He was rumpled, wet, and reeked to high heaven but he was safe. The only apparent injury that she could detect was possibly... wounded pride which was a hell of a lot easier to repair than the usual array of physical maladies that ordinarily followed a stupid Mulder stunt.' Silently, she said a prayer of thanksgiving and leaned in close to him. "Gonna get up, G-Man or sit there and pickle'?" "Well," he began then shut his mouth and shifted position. "I would be more than happen to oblige except for one teeny tiny little problem," he stated in a frustrated grumble. "And what might that be?" she asked with a grin. in response to her question, he struggled in vain to get big bunny feet under his body for leverage but the size of the feet and the liquid condition of the floor made him slip and he dropped back down to the hard surface with a resounding thud. "I'm like an overturned beatle and I can't get off this *fucking* floor!" he blurted out with embarrassment. Five minutes later with the help of Dana and two of D.C.'s finest, Mulder was once again standing awkwardly upright. "Thanks guys," Fox muttered, his face still a lovely shade of red. "Hey, I'm an animal lover," Officer Macdowell chuckled, "Anything for our furry friends' over at the Hoover Building," he added with a smile. "Oh," Officer Bryson stated as he turned to leave, "Don't forget to follow us down to the station to fill out the paperwork and file your report," he snickered with delight. "What??!!" Mulder sputtered. "Can't it wait until later? I've got a half dozen kids waiting at her mother's house," he said, pointing to Dana. Yeah, you big coward. Use the kids as an excuse. Hey, anything would be better than hopping into the police station in this get up "No, I'm sorry, Agent Mulder. We need the report. I'm sure it won't take long and you can be hippity hopping on your way in no time." "Great, just Great." This was getting worse by the second. Maybe I could get this over with quick and no one would notice. Sure...a six foot white rabbit walking into a busy police station. Just your normal every day felony arrest. I'm naive...but not that naive. Bastards. "Okay, fine," Mulder replied, "but if I have to write the damn report and fill out the forms, I at least want the pleasure of arresting the son of a bitch responsible for the harassment and corny rabbit jokes that I know are going to follow me around for the next several years when this gets out...and it will," he groused. "Hey Earl," Harley jabbed at his brother with one cuffed hand, "That there bunny rabbit is headin this way." Mulder tapped Earl on the shoulder with one paw. "Mr. Earl March," a gravelly, menacing voice floated over the prisoner's shoulder. Earl turned around slowly and frowned. God help him...Harley was right. The rabbit was a Fed. "You have the fucking right to keep your trap shut. Anything you say can and will come back and kick you in the ass if this disaster should by some small miracle make it to a goddamn court of law. You have the right to have a fancy ass high priced lawyer present while I try and find out what in the hell is going on here but by the look of things I don't think there's a chance in hell that's going to happen so I guess my tax money is going to be squandered trying to find a low-life son of a bitch to get you out on a goddamn mother-fucking technicality. Do you by chance have enough gray matter left in that vacuum tube brain of yours to understand what I just said?" Dana winced. That was the oddest interpretation of the Miranda rights she'd heard yet. Earl grinned from ear to ear. "He's the first damn person who's made any sense in this whole god forsakin town since I had the misfortune to end up here. Yep. I gottcha Mr. Fed Rabbit." Macdowell stared at Mulder, his mouth held tightly in a thin line as he tried unsuccessfully to swallow his laughter then just gave up and belly-laughed until his aching lungs threatened to give up the ghost. Turning to Bryson, he commented with a gasp, "Eloquent ain't he?" "Yeah...for a fucking Bunny," Bryson replied with barely controlled mirth. His wife would never believe this one. 23rd Precinct The noise level in booking was reaching a decibel that even the hardened veteran D.C. detectives found unbearable. Arrested gang members struggled against their captors and shouted obscenities to each other in graphic detail. Prostitutes dissed each other and propositioned the desk sergeant and anyone else who would listen while a parade of humanity clashed in a melting pot of technicolor hair, tatoos, and body piercings that strained the imagination. Captain Charles Morgan looked out over the melee and rubbed his temples for the zillionth time. Holidays were the pits. Every freak, toady, and psycho seemed to be out and it appeared that every single one of them had found there way to his station. He had a headache. A BIG headache that nothing short of a coma would relieve. Lucky for him and his command ... he had only an hour left to go of this shit and he'd be home snuggled in bed with his new wife of 5 months. "Just get me through another hour," he prayed out loud, "without incident," he added as a precaution. Over the din he heard a familiar voice, "Just shut the fuck up, will you? Please?" the voice pleaded. Oh God no...not him...not now. It can't be. Life can't be this cruel. Nothing short of mayhem accompanied that voice, at least that had been his experience. Spooky Mulder? Captain Morgan looked up with dread toward the sound of the voice. It wasn't that he didn't like Mulder. He did. It was just that Mulder always required extra effort and at this time of the morning with an hour to go, Fox Mulder just wouldn't be a welcomed sight. Why me, Lord? To his dismay, what he did see made him blink his eyes and look again. A large white rabbit lumbered through the bullpen...a clearly irritated rabbit, followed by a short little redhead with a suspiciously round belly. "Will you shut up?" the rabbit squeaked to one of the ratty individuals he was leading to the booking section. "Alls I asked was ifin you got a diploma or somethin. Me and Earl tried to get jobs but nobody would hire us cause we got no schoolin. What kinda schoolin does a bunny git to be workin fer the US government?" Harley asked in awe. Mulder threw up his hands. "I've got a fucking doctorate in psychology...Okay?!! I'm a doctor. That's D...O...C...T...O...R. Is that good enough for you? Now will you please put a sock in it?" he yelled. Suddenly the room was so quiet you could hear a debutante fart. Those individuals on drugs were more than certain that they'd finally gone over the edge and those who weren't were just as certain that they needed to be as the big white Easter Bunny turned over his charges to the booking officer. "Mulder? Mulder is that you?" Morgan asked. Mulder turned around and would have cringed if the suit would have allowed for the movement. Oh shit. Morgan...so much for getting out of this with anonymity. "Yeah..." Fox mumbled under his breath. Captain Morgan slid out from behind his desk, squeezed through the sea of bodies and stood in front of his friend. "Mulder...it Is you! Like your new choice in wardrobe. Is this a new Armani or are you buying off the rack now?" "It's Bill Blaas's new spring line," Mulder replied tongue in cheek, "trendy and overstated yet basically traditional. However, I must admit that my chances of becoming the next poster boy for the Animal Rights Movement just went down the toilet." "Hey man, what is this anyway...Fed's night out?" "Huh...what are you talking about?" he asked, momentarily forgetting about the annoying itch building up behind his right ear and the almost painful pressure beginning to exert itself on his bladder. "That brown nosing, kiss ass suit over there has been pissing and moaning all night long that we screwed up his bust. Jerk didn't bother to tell anybody his intentions so when the neighbors called the cops, we bagged the perp. Now he's threatening to bring down the wrath of J. Edgar on our heads if we don't dance to his tune." Scully followed Morgan's gaze to a short wiry form wearing the traditional government issue suit. The man was gesturing wildly with his hands while angrily making demands and issuing orders with an air of self important pompousness that made her embarrassed to be in the F.B.I.'s employ. She nudged Mulder in the ribs and whispered, "Look partner, it's our favorite special agent in charge of inter-agency relations." Mulder turned his attention to the man in question and nearly choked. "Shit, Dana, Just what I need to start off the day...and I only thought things could get better. How optimistic of me." Captain Morgan's eyebrows rose toward his receding hairline as he fought to keep the humor out of his expression. "I take it he's not one of your most favorite people," he stated as an obvious fact. "Oh we're just buddy buddy," Mulder replied sarcastically, "the man's a moron with a badge. He's been throwing his weight around huh?" "Yep, he's threatened us with everything from obstructing a federal investigation to jaywalking. But I've got to tell you, Mulder, the collar is ours." Mulder nodded with understanding and Morgan got the distinct impression that the big, noisy, fish in the little pond' was about to become shark bait. He'd worked with Agent Mulder a few times on some pretty nasty cases, cases that no one else had the guts or tenacity to take on. He knew the look.' This man could take a lot of abuse from a lot of people but when he got fed up, intellect, wit, and total fearlessness merged to forge a razor sharp mental scalpel that could so efficiently carve up his opponent's psyche with such precision that nothing short of major surgery could piece it back together again. Agent Fox Mulder could be lethal if he chose to be. Lucky for most of the poor schmucks he worked with, he wasn't usually a vengeful or vindictive person and it took a lot of goading before he'd strike back. Morgan smiled as Mulder lumbered across the room to stand behind the man as he ranted. Scully looked at Captain Morgan then dropped her head, shaking it slightly from side to side while pinching the bridge of her nose to try ease the ache that was starting to build into a headache. "You know what's going to happen don't you?" she asked. "Yeah, I know," he said guiltily, "but sometimes it's such a pleasure just to watch him reduce these self righteous, ladder-climbing mental midgets to a quivering pile of gelatinous slime. It's rewarding, satisfying, and downright entertaining. Our guys can't say diddly squat to this puke so excuse me if I sic your very adept partner on his ass. This'll make their day...and yes, I admit it, mine too." "Excuse me," Mulder said politely as he tapped the agent on the shoulder, "Are you always this big of an asshole or do you stay up late at night rehearsing in front of the mirror?" Agent Carter spun around ready to give a tongue lashing to who ever it was who'd had the nerve to touch him and stopped in shock. "Whaa...? he stuttered, as he looked up into the eyes of the big white rabbit. "Oh, it's you, Agent Carter," Mulder sniggered, "I assume that it's a natural talent then...Come on *Rupert*, a man of your obviously self-proclaimed genius should be able to communicate with more than one syllable phonetics. Try it again. Very slowly now, we wouldn't want you to strain any gray matter would we...that is if there's enough there to make a difference." Carter's eyes narrowed in anger then in recognition and he managed a derogatory laugh. "And what kiddie show did you escape from Alien Bunnies From Outer Space?" he sneered. Mulder raised one eyebrow and smiled amiably, "is that the best you can do? Originality is not one of your better qualities is it *Rupert*? Do you have any better qualities?" Mulder asked curiously. Carter fumed. "I for one am not Totally Insane unlike some people," he eyed Mulder with disgust. Mulder raised his paw' to his chin in a gesture indicating thought.' "So... I take it you don't believe in the Easter Bunny...hmmm. Guess there won't be any jelly bellies in your basket today will there *Rupert*? Muffled laughter could be heard from the blue uniforms that were crowded into the small room. As for being totally insane, well there's a possibility that's true. There are always...possibilities." Mulder's eyes became dark and clouded like a gathering storm as he edged in closer to the irritating man. "You want to find out?" he whispered confidentially. Carter instinctively backed up. "You're crazy, Mulder...a fucking looney tune." Fox smiled again. It was a sinister smile, one that betrayed hidden danger ... like a crocodile gliding beneath the water, unseen until it was too late. "Exactly," he purred quietly, "And that's what makes me your worst nightmare, you stupid fuck. Come on, use a couple of neurons. It won't hurt...much, I promise. Why wouldn't it be a good idea to piss me off?" Carter was silent, unsure of where the conversation was heading. He was thrown off by Mulder's demeanor and couldn't tell whether the man was serious or playing with his head. He didn't like the feeling of intimidation that was steadily growing in the pit of his stomach. Christ, the man's in a bunny suit. What's wrong with you? "Oh this is really starting to get boring," Mulder huffed, "You don't piss someone off who can hurt you. That's reason number one... and believe me, I can. Insane bastards don't give a flying fuck. I'm crazy right? You said so yourself. Oh and it's not a good idea to diss the boss especially when he can hear you. It always seems that asswipes like you forget one small thing. Although I don't exercise the perogitive on a minute by minute basis, I am a section head with all the duties, rights and responsibilities that go along with that . You...are not. I can write reprimands, issue disciplinary action and make your life a living hell should I desire to do so. Granted, I've been on the receiving end more often than the issuing one, however, not once had it been from the result of acting like a pompous ass. Let me give you some advice. If you want to go on report, at least make it worthwhile, not for stupid shit like this. Don't fuck with me. Because if you do, I will chew you up and spit you out like yesterday's chewing gum," he snarled. "Now, I want you to apologize to all these fine officers of the law for being a pain in their asses. Since you didn't appraise them of the situation, didn't issue an arrest warrant, didn't call for back up, I think I can safely say according to the FBI Handbook, Chapter 22, Sec 4, paragraph 2, you are full of shit and should you decide to pursue this idiotic course of action, AD Skinner will more than likely yank you out of his office by your dick...if he can find it. Do I make myself clear or do you need an interpreter?" "I'mm...mm going to call AD Skinner about this," Carter whined in protest. "Oh for Christ sakes, he's gonna go tell the principal. Scully have you got a quarter? I don't have any pockets." Dana reached into her pants pocket, pulled out some change and handed it to Agent Carter. "Here's a quarter. Go tell someone who cares. On second thought," she said dumping a handful of quarters into his hand, "You'll probably need a lot more than one." For the first time that morning Mulder was actually enjoying himself and began to laugh. "I couldn't have said it better myself. "She's great!" he said turning to Captain Morgan, "Isn't she great?" Mulder beamed. Morgan nodded in approval. His friend had single-handedly boosted his men's sagging holiday morale to the point that they were actually smiling. He never would completely understand the man and wasn't sure he wanted to. But he'd discovered that Mulder could play well with others and could be quite charming if he was allowed. Tonight he had made more than a few new friends in the D.C. police department and that was no easy task. "Hey Cap," Mulder yelled across the room, "I killed a whole forest filling out all of your bullshit forms...can we go now? It's getting light out and I've still got to conspicuously hide 3 or 4 dozen tye-dyed hard boiled eggs." "Yeah, get the hell out of my precinct, you goddamn troublemaker. Never thought I'd see the day," he added, shaking his head. "What?" Mulder inquired. "A domesticated Fox,'" he cajoled as he nodded his head toward Scully. "Eat shit, Morgan," Mulder said affectionately, moving toward the exit. As he walked out the door, they heard the echoing refrain of Here comes Peter Cottontail' being sung by the men in blue.. "You sure know how to make friends and influence people, Mulder," she chided him. "I live a charmed life," he remarked with a hint of sarcasm. "I'm never going to live this down. You know that." "It's okay. I love you anyway." "I appreciate that." "I knew you would." Mulder's car "Stop the car, Scully." "What now?" "I just realized something important." "Okay, give me a hint." "The adrenaline's worn off and I um...have to ah...drain the snake...choke the chicken...you know... Come on Dana...I gotta pee okay?" "Why didn't you go before we left?" "I didn't have to go then. Please help me get out of this thing." "Oh for Pete's sake," she muttered as she pulled along side of the road. Bill was Never this much trouble. Mrs. Scully's house "Did you hide them all, Mulder?" "No, I ate two." "You're not supposed to eat them. Hold still, you've got egg shells on your whiskers." "I was hungry. I haven't had breakfast." "You have now." "Oh that's sweet, Dana, first you try and sew fur to my back and now you starve me to death." "I told you it was an accident. It was dark and I wouldn't have had to sutcher the damn suit shut if the stupid zipper hadn't broken. I didn't know it was a local necking site and explaining to the cop what we were doing was not my idea of fun. I must admit, though, that moron's remark about never turning your back on a woman with a knife was totally uncalled for." "Oh right...telling the guy you were an M.D. and just checking me out for hernias was real swift, Scully, I'm sure he really believed that one." "He would have if you'd have coughed when I told you to." "Thanks for the exam, Scully." "No problem...any time." "Aaaa What's up Doc?" "You are." "In this get up...how could you tell?" "Come on Bugs, we'll discuss this later." Mulder raised and lowered his eyebrows in a bad John Belushi imitation, and muttered "Ain't I a Stinker as they wandered toward a house full of children. Fine
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