Title: Blind as a Fox
Author: joan the english chick
Written: October 1996
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully aren't mine, despite what the voices in my head might say. I've used them with love but without permission.
Rating: Humor, Vignette, PG-13. Possibly one or two mild swears, a tiny touch of UST.

Summary: Our Heroes dress up for Halloween. Can you figure out who they're going as before the last line of the story?

Author's note: I really wanted to write something non-FBI-party-related, but this one just had to come out. I, too, wanted to see Scully in something non-frilly...but still ultra-feminine. And if you can't picture Gillian in the referenced costume, well, honey, you ain't using enough imagination! :P~~~~

Mulder entered the office ten minutes later than usual, lugging an armload of garment bags. "Scully," he said breathlessly, "could I ask you a huge favor?"

Scully turned from her computer and glared over her glasses at him. "Mulder, if you're about to ask me to do your dry-cleaning..."

"No, no," he said hastily. "Although...I trust very few people with my coffee stains, ring-around-the-collar and translucent alien goo." Scully cracked a small grin. "Actually, I was hoping you'd give me your opinion on a couple of Halloween ideas."

"Oh? I thought the Bureau canceled the annual Halloween ball."

"They did," Mulder agreed. "But Agent Murray and Agent Parker are having their own little bash over at the ballroom in the Regent Hotel." He handed over a Xeroxed flyer.

"'One Time Only,'" Scully read. "'Costume optional; mask mandatory.'" She looked up. "Okay Mulder, but I warn you, I always did whatever Melissa did, so I don't know how creative my input will be."

"I just need help deciding," Mulder said. "I've got it narrowed down to four." He unzipped the first bag. "Whadya think?"

Scully looked dubiously at it. "It looks sort of familiar...."

Mulder rolled his eyes. "It's Luke Skywalker's flight suit. He wears it when he flies the X-Wing Fighter against the Death Star."

"Oh...right." Scully gave him a suspicious look. "And I suppose I'd go as Princess Leia? Not the virginal white dress, I hope."

"Well....no." Mulder looked at her face and decided not to mention the gold plated bikini from Jabba the Hutt's pleasure barge. "Next." He put the flight suit aside and brought out the next costume, holding the headpiece up to his forehead. Scully's face was blank.

"Mulder? What's with the sideways Mohawk?"

"It's a Centauri." Still blank. "From Babylon Five." Still blank. "It's a TV show - never mind. You need to get out more, Scully," he said in disappointment, reaching for the third bag. "Two more to go."

"I get out plenty," Scully began indignantly, but stopped as she saw the third costume emerge from its bag. She gasped, and then began to laugh in delight.

"You like it?" Mulder asked excitedly.

"Oh Mulder...it's PERFECT. It's so you!"


"And," said Scully with a mischievious glint in her eye, "I have the perfect thing to go with it."

Mulder's eyes widened. "You do?"

"Pick me up at seven," she instructed, and turned back to her computer.

Promptly at seven-fifteen, Mulder knocked on Scully's door. "You're late," her voice chastised from within. "It's not locked."

"Sorry Scully," he said as he entered, his voice somewhat muffled by the mask. "This thing was harder to get into than I expected."

"Nevermind that, let's just go," Scully said, emerging from the bedroom. Mulder's jaw hit the floor.

"Um....okay," he stammered, "who are you, and what have you done with my partner?"

Scully laughed. "It's really me Mulder. I got this for the Quantico party a few years back and didn't have the guts to wear it. But now, I figure if I'm gonna be Mrs. Spooky, I may as well dress the part one day a year. You think?"

Mulder didn't think. He merely gibbered.

"Oh for Pete's sake. Listen, Mulder, you have to carry my keys okay? I don't have any pockets and a purse would ruin the effect."

"Yeah," Mulder managed, pocketing her keys as they left her apartment. "Hey Scully...I hate to say this...."


"Well...you're no Julie Newmar," he apologized, "but lemme tell ya, Michelle Pfeiffer has nothing on you!"

"Aw, thanks Mulder. And for the record, you fill the suit better than Michael Keaton OR that Val Kilmer."

"What about George Clooney?"

"George who?"

"Oh nevermind," Mulder grumbled as he moved the car out into traffic. "You need to get out more anyway."

Later, as Mulder led Scully back to his car, he observed, "Well, everyone seemed to think my costume was quite appropriate. And you turned every head in the room."

"Do you think so? Agent Davis was fighting them off with a stick."

"Aah, that was just the booze talking. She didn't make that good a Jessica Rabbit anyway. Hey, Scully, what did Pendrell say just before you decked him?"

"He asked if he could try to make me purr," Scully replied, shaking her head ruefully. "If he - " She stopped suddenly, squinting across the parking lot at a shadowy figure in the gloom. "Mulder," she hissed, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Do you see what I see?"

Mulder looked. "Who is that?" he whispered. Dimly, the two agents could make out a mask and a garish costume...the mask bore a hideous grin most recently seen on Jack Nicholson. As they watched, a thin stream of smoke emerged from the Joker's mouth and curled sinuously up toward a streetlight. The agents' eyes met across the roof of the car.

"Holy conspiracies, Batman," Scully exclaimed. "Let's get out of here!"

They jumped into the Muldermobile and sped off into the night.


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