Author's notes: Yes, there really are dolls for boys just like the one I describe here. (I love Google.) Also, I had a lot of fun prowling around my house trying to figure out how a 2" tall person would do things, and studying screen shots of Scully's apartment to see what Mulder actually faced.
Title: the past tense "shrunk" is derived from the Old English plural past "scruncon", pronounced "skrun-kon".
My most Darin Morgan-esque story, IMHO.
Spoilers: Right after Folie a Deux, S5E19
Summary: Honey I Shrunk the Kids, X-Files style.
Thanks so much to Strbck23 for the great beta, this story is so much better for it
Scruncon
Suzanne Feld
Rated PG-13
May 1998
"Mulder, did you drag me on yet another snipe hunt?"
Prowling around the large, open room with his black trench coat swirling around his legs, flashlight pointed down toward the floor and away from the bank of windows along one wall, Mulder ground out in frustration, "I know there's something here, Scully. The—"
"Oh for crying out loud!" Scully pushed back the sides of her tan Burberry and put hands on slender hips, her flashlight pointing at the floor as well. Though it was spring, DC was going through a cold snap and both wore coats over their suits. It was a Friday night, and Mulder had dragged her out of work and halfway across town before she'd even had a chance to think about going home and changing. Since the Pinkus case in Chicago she was beginning to think he'd really lost at least some of his mind. Folie a deux indeed. "Mulder, it's nothing but a regular, non-alien-pod-growing research lab. I don't recognize some of the equipment but most is standard. There's nothing here!"
He turned and glared at her across a long, empty white countertop that was one of several dispersed around the room, and then began to walk around again. The place resembled a high school chemistry lab without the desks. It had scientific equipment both familiar and unfamiliar sitting on the counters along the walls. Though the overhead lights weren't on, there was enough ambient light from the parking lot lights outside the windows and the beams of their flashlights to see well enough, though there were plenty of dark nooks and crannies. "Scully, my informant said that they've actually achieved miniaturization, and that they may working for the Syndicate. Can you even begin to imagine—"
"All right, Mulder, that's enough!" Scully snapped, glaring at his back as he moved away, peering over his flashlight beam at a large machine set up in the far corner. To her it looked like an old computer mainframe with a small satellite dish set on top, a large grey cabinet with old-style magnetic tape reels on the front and switches along one side. "I really have had enough of this crap. Miniaturization? Honey I Shrunk the Kids miniaturization? Seriously? I'm going home and I don't want to hear a word from you until Monday, and I mean at nine a.m. when I arrive at the office!"
"Fine, whatever," he bit off on a cold voice, crouching down in front of the bulky gray cabinet and lost from her sight behind one of the long white counters dotting the room. "The next time you bitch me out for ditching you I'll remind you of this."
Huffing, Scully turned and left the lab, letting the door swing shut behind her, not even pausing to make sure the hallway was clear though they were in the building illegally after-hours. The clicking of her heels echoed on the industrial grey tile and bounced off the mold-green walls. She went back out the way they'd come in, through swinging doors at the end of the hall into a dark, cavernous warehouse. Then across it and to a smaller door next to the large loading dock that had been left unlocked for them by Mulder's mysterious contact. As it closed with a hydraulic hiss behind her, she didn't see the glaring crimson flash of light that lit the interior of the building for a few seconds, and then faded away with a hazy pink glow.
# # #
Mulder woke suddenly and looked around, realizing simultaneously that he was cold and naked and in the dark, surrounded by mountains of rough, shadowy material that he couldn't see past. For a moment he thought he was unconscious or dreaming, but as soon as he got to his feet, he knew that wasn't the case. He was, unfortunately, awake. He had apparently blacked out, but where was he?
It all came back in a rush. Sneaking into the closed lab, Scully bitching and getting on his nerves and then leaving, crouching down in front of the big gray machine and losing his balance, putting a hand out to steady himself—and then nothing. He looked up and, high above him, the satellite dish-looking thing was pointed downward in his direction, a curl of pale pink smoke wafting from its center. This had to be, he realized, the miniaturization machine—and like the baseball that had activated the one in the movie, he had bumped into it and apparently shrunk himself.
After a moment's amazement and wonder, it sunk in just how much trouble he was in. Not only couldn't he reach the switches far above, he had no idea how to reverse the miniaturization. If they even could.
Scully! He thought. She'll figure out how to fix me. Gotta catch her before she leaves!
He began to clamber out of the lumpy material, which he realized was his dark grey Armani. It was like climbing sand dunes or snow that had no support underneath, and he ended up all but crawling out of it on his hands and knees rather than walking or climbing. It seemed to take forever, but finally he slid down the dark blue cuff of his dress shirt and reached the floor of the lab, hissing as his bare feet touched the ice-cold tile. His gigantic flashlight lay a short distance away, lighting the floor for some distance.
Standing naked and shivering, he crossed his arms over his bare chest and looked around. He appeared to be maybe two inches tall, bigger than the kids in the movie but still really tiny, he realized with renewed horror.
Beneath the lowest ridge of the cabinets that jutted out a few inches, just above the floor, was what looked like piles of fuzzy boulders but what probably were dust bunnies and other flotsam missed by the cleaning crew. Mulder considered looking under there for something to wear, but thinking that there could, perhaps, be mice or cockroaches or, God forbid, chunks of freshly chewed gum that could trap him like quicksand, made him think twice. Plus, he still had to see if Scully had left the building—how long had he been unconscious?
Feeling more exposed than he ever had in his life, Mulder darted across the floor and, without even thinking about it, bent over and squeezed under the crack in the door. The hallway looked as big as the rocket bay at Cape Kennedy, the grey swinging doors to the warehouse appearing to be miles away. But he didn't let that stop him and, glad that he jogged to keep himself in shape, sprinted for the end of the corridor.
Though there were weak after-hours lights in the hallway, the warehouse he peered into under one of the giant swinging doors was pitch black. Scully had probably gone out this way since she knew that the door was unlocked and the alarm deactivated, never mind that her car was parked in the alley behind his. He couldn't see more than a foot in front of his face, and wasn't strong enough to push a door open to let in more light, so how in the hell was he going to get out?
Just then a faint cold breeze whispered past his bare body, raising goosebumps and making him shiver. He'd momentarily forgotten about being naked, intent on reaching his partner, and it was a bitter reminder. But then he realized that he could see a faint vertical light in the distance. He remembered that the outer door had not shut all the way behind them when they came in so it was possible that when Scully left, it had not closed again, and the breeze was coming from it. It was as good of a guess as any and he had no time to waste, so with some trepidation he moved out into the darkness, hands in front, feeling carefully with his bare feet on the ice cold, hilly concrete.
It seemed to take hours to reach the light. He was relieved to find that it was, indeed, the door, the light shining through the crack along one side it from a dim streetlight in the alley. It was easily large enough to allow him to slip through. He peered out carefully to see with some relief that Scully's car was still parked nearby, his grey Taurus in front of it. As he watched she came around the side of the car, grumbling under her breath, and popped the trunk open. After rummaging around in it for a few moments, she emerged with the scissor jack and tire iron in her hands. She went back around to the other side of the car. After a few minutes a loud ratcheting sound echoed through the alley, and then the front end began to rise.
She had a flat tire, he realized. Sometimes fortune does favor the foolish, he thought, because otherwise he was pretty sure she'd have been long gone. Luckily he hadn't given her a set of his car keys, because he thought she was so pissed that she might have taken his car and left him to change the tire on hers.
Keeping an eye out for cockroaches or, even worse, rats, Mulder scurried across the wide alleyway and underneath the car, pausing behind the driver's side tire and making sure he hadn't been followed. Every big bug or small person movie he'd ever seen was running through his head in a terrifying montage, and he wasn't sure if it was good or bad that he enjoyed B-movies which often featured one or both.
Turning the other way, he saw Scully kneeling next to the tire and the sound of grunts. Another freezing breeze whipped around his naked body, making him automatically cross his arms over his chest as goosebumps broke out over his bare skin. He had to find something to wear if he was going to be out here long, or risk dying from exposure.
"Goddammit!" Scully swore viciously, and as he watched, the tire iron sailed halfway across the alley, clanging loudly on the asphalt as it bounced even further. He ran over to the opposite tire and peered out at her. She was kneeling on the filthy asphalt with her head down, thick red hair hanging on each side of her face. Her shoulders were slumped beneath her tan Burberry, hands on the knees of her black dress pants. Mulder had a suspicion that she wasn't able to loosen the lug nuts on the wheels; he'd had the same problem the last time he'd had a flat tire. He'd had to stand on the tire iron to break their grip and even with his greater weight it had been difficult. There was, likely, no way that Scully could do it.
She must really be pissed at him, he realized, to not go inside and ask him to help.
Since he was only a foot or so from her, Mulder stepped out from behind the tire and jumped up and down, shouting, "Scully! Scully! Look down here, over here!"
She mumbled something that he couldn't quite make out and got up, pulling her cell phone out of her inside coat pocket. At least jumping up and down helped keep him warm, Mulder thought as he stopped, then lifted one foot at a time off the cold, bumpy asphalt. He backed up next to the tire, out of the wind, and listened as Scully called Information and then a tow truck. She was pacing back and forth next to the car and it was while watching her legs that it hit him: she had a low cuff on her pants which, if he could get to, he could probably fit in just fine. She was so agitated, however, that she kept moving and then, without warning, got into the car and slammed the door.
Mulder rammed his hands over his ears at the deafening thunderclap, then shook his head and looked around, rubbing his upper arms. There was plenty of garbage and flotsam in the alley but he was afraid to touch any of it, never mind wrap it around him. Besides, he was out of the wind and hadn't caught the attention of any predators so he was loathe to leave his spot. Instead of going in search of something to wear, he went back to jumping up and down to keep warm, which at least worked better than standing still.
He was exhausted by the time the tow truck arrived some time later. As Scully got out of the car in response to the headlights which pulled up behind her, he ran alongside, waiting for her to stop so he could jump into her pants cuff. But she met the driver, who was carrying a tire iron in one hand, at the back of the car, then they both went to where the car was jacked up at and she continued pacing as they talked. Finally, finally she paused and Mulder made his move, leaping up to grab the material and hoist himself up.
This was not, he thought in an aside, the way he'd always hoped to get in Scully's pants.
Unfortunately, he was heavier than the fold in the material so he hung from it, the cuff unfolding, as Scully stood there unaware, watching as the tow truck driver began to work on changing the tire with his own four-way tire iron. Then she began to walk and Mulder let out a yell as the freezing air whipped around his naked, shivering body. But he didn't dare let go or risk not being able to catch up to her again, he realized. He whirled out to one side like a stuntman hanging onto the side of a swinging truck door in an action movie and almost lost his grip. Then, on the backswing, his feet touched something hard and he curled his toes around it. Glancing down, he saw that he had ahold of the side of Scully's shoe. His position, while still precarious and freezing cold, was more stable so he hung on grimly while she walked over to where she'd thrown the tire iron, retrieved it, and took it back to the car where she tossed it in the trunk.
His arms and feet were both aching from the position he was in and going numb from the cold, but luckily the mechanic was almost done changing the tire by the time Scully returned from retrieving the tire iron. As they talked more he removed one hand and one foot at a time and flexed them, until at last Scully followed the driver to his truck. She handed over a credit card and waited while he ran it through the clacking manual machine. It seemed like days rather than minutes before she got back in the car, and as soon as the door was closed he dropped from her pants leg to the carpeted floor.
A blast of hot air knocked him ass over teakettle. He rolled beneath the front seat, fetching up against the carpeted bottom of the back one. The heat felt so good that he didn't care about bruises as he stood up carefully, hanging onto the nap of the material as the car began to move.
To his surprise, Scully began to mumble to herself, just loud enough that he could hear what she was saying. "Does not give a shit about me. Could care less unless I don't tag along. Rude bastard, don't know why I've stayed with him all these years. Didn't join the FBI so I could be his goddamn sycophant, got a career of my own. Hah! What career."
He had no idea that Scully got so pissed at him. He'd always thought she enjoyed going on after-hours investigations with him; why else did she bitch when he left her behind?
Then she snapped the radio on to a classical station and hummed tunelessly along with the music, leaving him to his thoughts. He sat down in the deep pile of the carpet, pulling his knees up against his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Now what was he going to do, Mulder wondered as he bounced and jounced with the car's movement. Warm air flowed around him, warming his numbed extremities. Not only was he barely a couple of inches tall and naked, he didn't have a clue as to his next move.
He glanced around to see if there was anything in the car he could use to cover himself, but it was spotless as usual. Scully had a plastic garbage bag, the kind given out at car washes, hanging from the radio knob and was strict about anyone who rode with her using it.
As he felt the car slow then heard the rumble of the engine stop, he realized that Scully was home and unless he wanted to spend the rest of his likely-brief life in the car, he'd better get a move on. He made it to the cuff of her pants just as she was opening the door, and the freezing air was an unwelcome reminder that he was still naked. But he managed to ride the side of her shoe into the apartment, not letting go until she was in her bedroom.
There had to be something he could use for clothing, he thought desperately as he let go of her cuff and jumped down to the cool wooden floor. Though it was warm in her apartment he knew he'd feel better with something on.
While Scully did whatever it was that she did after stomping away from him on an investigation, Mulder went on a hunt through her apartment. He needed to put something on, and even a gum wrapper like miniaturized Paul in the old movie Help! would do the trick at the moment. It occurred to him that the Quonochontaug house would have been a better place to get stuck like this, since their live-in housekeeper had done sewing and there had always been little scraps and bits of material around. His mother had complained endlessly about it, though she'd never minded getting her dresses hemmed for free.
But in the meantime he'd have to find something else, because he knew damn well that Scully would not leave something as plebian as a gum wrapper on her spotless floors. He prowled around beneath the furniture in the living room, finding nothing more than a few dust bunnies half-stuck beneath the feet of the couch and chairs where the vacuum couldn't pull them out. He was not surprised that Scully cleaned underneath her furniture, not just where people could see like he did.
Then, in the darkness beneath the large china cabinet in her dining room, he hit the jackpot. He slipped beneath the ornate edge and the first thing his eyes fell on was a large, oddly-shaped lump laying in the shadows a short distance away; it gave him a start at first, but he figured out what it was within moments. He dragged it to the lighted area. It was a soft, stuffed doll that appeared to be a little boy, a bit taller and larger around than he, wearing a pair of overalls, a blue checked shirt, and a John Deere cap.
Must be from one of Scully's nephews, he thought. He had no idea that there were dolls like this for boys, but he wasn't about to complain. There were several other dusty, unidentifiable lumps in the dark near the back of the cabinet, but he decided that he didn't need to know what they were just yet, if ever.
To his relief, the clothes were removable although it took a bit of work on his part and he had to dust them off; it looked like the doll had been under the china cabinet for a while. The sleeves of the shirt hung down past his hands, and the overalls were ridiculously big, but he made it all work. The John Deere cap he left, although he did manage to tug on the little brown cowboy boots.
He instantly felt better dressed, though it didn't last long. Before he was able to leave the cave under the china cabinet, the entire world went dark. Apparently Scully had turned out the lights and probably gone to bed. He now had no way to see where he was, or where he was going. Luckily he knew that the doll was right behind him and backed up a couple of steps until he felt his foot hit something soft, and sat down on it until he could figure out what to do now.
But after a few minutes his night vision asserted itself and he realized that he could see a faint glow. Moving carefully, he ducked out from beneath the cabinet to find that there was a dim nightlight on over the kitchen sink, just bright enough for him to see by.
His stomach grumbled and he was faced with a new problem. What in the hell was he going to eat and drink? Even if he did manage to find a few crumbs on the floor he wouldn't touch them, not even in Scully's apartment, and how would he get to water?
After a short walk around the roomy kitchen he had solved at least one of the two troubles. Scully's apartment was older, like his, and sure enough her appliances were plugged into sockets just above the baseboard. He had little trouble climbing up what turned out to be the cord to her blender with his feet braced on the kitchen cabinet. Once up on the counter, he went over to the sink and crawled out onto the silver faucet. It was easy to cup enough water from the end of it to slake his thirst.
Food was another matter entirely. He would have eaten pretty much anything on the counter knowing how she disinfected them, but there was nothing to be found—not a crumb or even a sesame seed. She had a white enamel breadbox that opened on top and he couldn't scale, so there wasn't even a loaf of bread for him to try and break into. He did discover a couple of soy sauce packets behind the toaster but he wasn't that desperate—yet.
She kept her oven mitts and hot pad holders in a woven wicker basket on the counter between the toaster and breadbox, and he thought that they would probably be a good place to sleep. If he ever quieted his complaining stomach, that was.
Grumbling, he sat down and dangled his legs over the edge of the counter, although the floor looked as far away as the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Luckily, heights had never bothered him. He let his eyes roam around the room, drifting past the squat, square-topped refrigerator which sat at the other end of the counter, and then snapping back a moment later.
There, on top of it and right at the edge, was a package of what looked like opened cookies. Even from here he could see the cellophane rolled up on one end, though he couldn't make out what they were. He knew Scully went for stuff like fancy high-end imported biscuits and such, but whatever it was, he was certain that he could get it open —if he could just reach it.
After a few minutes of pacing around and measuring his height against different appliances and such, Mulder had formulated a plan. He thought he could jump to the handle of the toaster, then climb up on it to reach the blender. Getting up on top of the tall glass pitcher would be difficult, but he thought he could clamber up using the measurement marks on the side, which looked to stick out just enough to be used as hand-and-foot-holds. Once on top of the blender he should be able to jump to the top of the low refrigerator since they were right next to each other, though he would have rather had a running start.
Just to be on the safe side, he dragged a few of the potholders over to where he'd be climbing, scattering them around the appliances and blocking the gap between the counter and refrigerator. If he fell into that they'd probably never find his tiny broken skeleton.
It took four tries, a ripped pants leg and skinned knee, and a heart-stopping moment hanging from the edge of the refrigerator before he made it. But it was well worth the effort; the cookies were almond pinwheels, some brand he'd never heard of but absolutely delicious. More rich than sweet, he decided, and just the thing for a 2" tall human to have for dinner. And with his luck probably breakfast, and lunch.
But then he realized he'd have to get down from the fridge. That would take him away from his only food source, but up here he didn't have water or shelter. Although he might be able to get Scully's attention since it was just above her eye level. Although how he was going to do that no matter where he was, he had no idea. Obviously she couldn't hear him, and how to make her see him? But that was a problem for later, after he'd gotten some rest and could think clearer.
At any rate, it was impossible for him to stay on top of the appliance. So, he pushed two of the cookies off the edge of the fridge. The first one tumbled to the floor though the other broke apart and mostly stayed on the counter. He made it back down to the counter safely, then stored a few crumbs of cookie at the bottom of the oven mitt basket. He then dragged the potholders back to the basket, though he wasn't able to lift them inside. Maybe, he thought, Scully would wonder why they were out, and why there was a cookie on the floor and investigate further, and perhaps spot him. He also realized that he'd forgotten to close the bag after he'd dragged the cookies out, which sat open and unrolled on top of the refrigerator. She was so anal sometimes, he thought as he snuggled down into one of oven mitts in the basket, she'd be sure to notice.
# # #
"And then he had the goddamned nerve to just disappear. He's not answering his phone and he's not at home. I hate it when grown men pout, and Mulder is a master at it."
"Then why do you keep working with him? You could have walked away any number of times," Ellen said with exasperation clear in her voice. "How many years have you been bitching about him, and here you are by his side."
Scully nearly hung up, but it was rare that she had time to chat with her few remaining friends anymore and resisted the impulse. Instead she continued to straighten up the kitchen after breakfast, tossing oven mitts and potholders into their basket and cleaning up bits of cookie from the floor without thinking. "The work is fascinating, and stimulating, like nothing I've ever done before," she finally said. "Sadly, I can't do it without him. He is the X-Files."
Ellen sighed heavily in her ear. "And to think I once encouraged you to date him."
Scully barked surprised laughter. "You did, didn't you?" she chuckled, going to the coffeepot. Though she usually tried to keep her caffeine consumption down to no more than two cups a day, it was a Sunday and she decided to splurge a little and have one more. "Trust me, that's never happening. He's got the most brilliant mind I've ever met, but emotionally he never passed twelve years old. I want to have children someday, not raise an adult one."
Ellen laughed as well. "At least these days you don't need a husband for that, just a turkey baster."
"Ellen!" Scully almost choked on her sip of freshly poured coffee. "What a thing to say!"
"Well it's the truth. Bob's niece Lana is a lesbian and that's how she had a baby, we heard."
"I don't think I'll ever get quite that desperate. I'm sure that someday I'll meet the right guy and settle down, but I've got time. There's no rush, and as I said before the work is intriguing. Just last week we—"
From the background came the sound of a wail, then a child's shout. "Dammit!" Ellen swore. "Sorry, Day, I have to run. Looks like Grant got into Vince's—put that down, don't you dare hit your brother with that!" she shouted.
Scully pulled the cordless away from her ear, wincing. Gingerly moving it back, she said, "I'll drop you an email, El. Take care and give the boys hugs from me."
She hit the disconnect button and set the handset on the table in front of her face-down. Propping her face in one palm, elbow on the table, she pondered her options while gazing down unseeingly into her half-empty coffee cup. Yesterday, without Mulder around to bug her, she'd gotten so much done that today was pretty much open. Beyond cleaning and organizing, she'd taken the time to get a mani-pedi, plucked her eyebrows, and treated herself a bikini wax at a day spa. It felt good to be a little feminine, she mused, even if there was no man in her life who would see it. Today she hadn't even changed out of her pajamas yet though it was after noon, since she had gone to Mass with her mother the evening before.
Still, she found herself missing him despite what she'd said in the lab and was annoyed by it. As much as he drove her crazy most of the time, his company was still the most stimulating and interesting she'd ever known. She hadn't lied to Ellen; she had no romantic interest in the man, but she certainly did like to be around him.
"Well, I can't sit here moping all day," she muttered to herself, then got up and put her coffee cup in the sink. As she turned away from the counter she saw that there was a soy sauce packet on the floor near the dishwasher, and picked it up with a curious frown. She knew that it hadn't been there earlier when she'd used the Dustbuster to clean up the cookie crumbs. Maybe it had been in one of the oven mitts she'd moved while cleaning up, and fallen out. Her nephews had been over the previous weekend and she'd gotten Chinese takeout, which had turned out to be a big mistake. The two boys had had a battle royale with the leftover soy and duck sauce packets, and she was still finding them in nooks and crannies all over the kitchen.
She tossed it in the trash and, straightening her back, decided that exercise was just what she needed. The first thing that came to mind was giving Mulder a call and asking if he wanted to go for a run, but she knew that he was probably still sulking. She didn't need his attitude to ruin her day. The Hoover had a great gym for its employees and was closer than any of the private gyms she'd checked out. She didn't let herself acknowledge that there was a good possibility that she might see Mulder there as they'd run into each other a few times in their off hours.
In the bedroom she took off her pajamas but before getting dressed, she paused in front of the full-length mirror naked to admire her bikini wax, turning this way and that. She lifted each leg to the side. The redness had almost completely faded away. She was lucky that she had such light, fine body hair that even yanking her pubes out with hot wax wasn't as painful as she had heard it could be. She preferred to wear a high-leg maillot when swimming laps so a bikini wax it was.
"You'll never see this, Mulder, unless you quit being such a narcissistic jerk," she said to her bare-skinned reflection, then laughed out loud. "Like he even sees me that way," she scolded herself, moving away from the mirror and going to the dresser for clean underclothes.
Just as she was about to leave her apartment with gym bag in hand, the cordless rang and she went back to answer it, thinking it might be Mulder. "Hello?"
"Agent Scully?"
She frowned, then recognized the voice. "Frohike?"
"That's me. Hey, have you heard from Mulder this weekend? We were supposed to… um, uh, do some stuff last night…"
Scully shook her head, smiling. "Whether it's hacking into the Pentagon or investigating the newest feature at the Pussy Willow, I don't want to know. At any rate, no, I haven't seen him since Friday night when I walked out on one of his snipe hunts. I think he's sulking."
"Mulder? Sulking? Noooo."
This time she laughed outright at the sarcastic tone of Frohike's voice.
"What'd he do this time? Talk you into going to see the Great Oompa-Loompa in Oz's castle?" The little man was laughing too.
"Even better," she chuckled. "He dragged me out to an industrial park in Bethesda to see what he claimed was a real miniaturization lab."
Frohike's laughter was cut off so suddenly that she, at first, thought that he'd hung up.
"Frohike? Still there?"
"That's no joke, Scully. We set him into that."
She sobered at the tone of his voice. "Come on, we all know—"
"That there's no such thing as miniaturization," he finished for her. "Until there is."
Scully frowned. "So are you saying—"
"Yeah, I think something happened. There's no way that Mulder would have missed what we had, uh, planned last night unless something stopped him. Tell me about the last time you saw him."
When she finished, Frohike sighed. "Do you remember where that lab was?"
"Yeeaahhh…" she drawled hesitantly. "But didn't you—"
"We'll be there in fifteen," he said suddenly. "Watch for our van around back."
Scully stared at the receiver in her hand, blatting its annoying dial tone. She wasn't sure if she should be angrier that he assumed she'd go along with this, or that the little monkey bastard had hung up on her.
# # #
The look on Scully's face when she finally discovered him was priceless.
After overhearing the conversation with Frohike from where he'd been riding in the mesh side pocket of Scully's gym bag, Mulder sprang into action. She'd set the bag on the arm of the couch which was behind the small table that the phone was on, and he scrambled out of it and ran across the hills and valleys of the upholstery.
Scully towered above him holding the cordless phone and staring at it with an incredulous look on her face as he ran out onto the glass of the table. "Scully, goddamn it, down here!" he shouted, jumping up and down and waving his arms. "Look down, goddamnit!"
And she did, for once she actually did what he wanted her to. "Mulder?"
The sound and volume of her voice knocked him off his feet, bowling him head-over-heels until he fetched up against the back of the couch. He shook it off and stood up, holding onto the knobby fabric, to find his partner's face inches from his, her chin level with the glass of the table as she knelt beside it. "Is this better?" she whispered.
"Yeah, can you hear me?" he yelled, rubbing his elbow. He ignored the rest of his aches and pains for the moment.
She nodded. "You don't need to shout. I'm not sure how sound waves work in this case, but even though you sound tinny I can hear you fine."
"I can tell you right where that lab is, have Frohike take us—"
"Mulder, it's Sunday afternoon, no one will be there," she pointed out. "That's what I was going to tell Frohike if the little shit hadn't hung up on me."
"Maybe we can—"
The cordless phone rang with ear-splitting intensity and Mulder clasped his hands over his ears, wincing. Scully scooped it up as she stood, fumbling to hit the answer button. "What! Oh, right. Yeah, I found him. It's—exactly, well, I—okay."
Scully flicked the switch on the side of the phone to silence the ringer. "The Three Stooges are outside. Let's go see what they think."
Mulder saw her start to put her hand out, but couldn't handle the thought of having her carry him like a doll. Instead he scrambled back to the gym bag, swinging up into the pocket with what he hoped was a manly show of agility. Tiny or not, he was no one's toy.
"Mulder… I have to ask… where did you get those clothes, and where is your suit?"
"It's a long story and I'll tell you later. Just get me back to normal!"
When they arrived at the industrial park, the lot in front of the building had two cars in it, and they could see lights on inside. Scully had insisted on taking her own car, followed by the Gunmens' Westphalia.
They somehow weren't surprised to find the front doors unlocked and without an alarm set though there was a keypad next to them. Inside, they found the lab brightly lit and several people hurrying around, though no one challenged them. Two were working near the machine that Scully had last seen Mulder at, the large grey cabinet with the small satellite-like dish on top. The first thing Scully noticed was the pile of cloth tossed over a chair nearby—undoubtedly Mulder's black trench coat and grey suit.
"Excuse me, but I think you may be looking for this man." Scully held up her gym bag, Mulder waving his arms madly from the side pocket.
"Oh my God, we knew something had happened!" A tall man in a white lab coat pointed to the clothing on the chair. "I came in yesterday morning to get some paperwork and found those. We've been looking for him all weekend!"
"Can you get him back to his normal size?" Scully said threateningly as she and the three Gunmen moved further into the lab. It occurred to her that if Mulder had stayed in the lab instead of following her home, they probably would have found and enlarged him when they'd discovered his clothing. She decided that discretion was the better part of valor and didn't say it, however.
And although Mulder had explained what had happened on the drive over (sitting on her shoulder, of all things) it just now hit her what it really meant. What had he seen her do, unknowingly, while two inches tall? She didn't think that Mulder was enough of a pervert to have watched her in the bathroom or shower… or would he? Her mind shied away from it and Scully quickly turned her attention back to what was going on.
"Yeah, yeah, no problem," a rotund woman in the ubiquitous lab coat said. "That's been the difficulty with this equipment. We can make tiny things large, but we've never managed to miniaturize something—or someone—before this. You'll have to tell us how you did it," she said to Mulder as she took the bag from Scully.
"Don't try to pick him up, he doesn't like it," Scully said. "Just let him get out on his own."
"Can't imagine how she knows that," Langley said in an aside to Byers, and she shot them a dirty look. They sobered up and stood back quietly after that.
The woman scientist set the bag on the floor at the base of the boxy grey machine and Mulder hopped out of the pocket. He stepped away as she moved the gym bag to the counter.
"Wait—wait—get everyone out of here, and put my clothes on the counter right there," Mulder yelled, pointing up. The woman frowned down at him, so he waved her closer and repeated the request.
"Okay, here's what we're doing," she said, straightening up. "He just reminded me that he has to be naked when he's enlarged since it won't affect his non-biologic clothing. Norman, bring his clothes over here, set them right there. Everyone else leave. I'll turn my back and activate the machine, is that okay, uh, mister…?"
"That's Agent Mulder," Scully said, pointing at him. "And I'm Agent Dana Scully. From the FBI."
"This day just gets better," the tall scientist mumbled as he brought Mulder's clothes over and set them on the counter across from the machine.
"Try my weekend, asshole!" Mulder shouted up at him, already undoing the buttons on his little plaid shirt. He was glad that he'd realized that he'd have to get out of these clothes because he didn't like thinking about what might have happened if they'd enlarged him with them on. As he stood naked and tiny on the floor, watching the woman in the lab coat adjust the dials and switches, he wondered if Scully—
The next thing he knew he was standing between two rows of counters, naked and chilled but regular size again, and fumbled quickly for his clothes. The woman scientist was standing with her back to him and he glanced around to see no one else in sight, to his relief, as he quickly dressed.
"Now, does someone want to tell me how in the hell I went from walking around in a dark lab to being in the same place but brightly-lit naked?" he said loudly.
The others came in from the hallway. "You really don't remember a thing about the past few days?" Scully said as she walked over to him. "Nothing?"
"The last thing I remember is you stomping out, then a red flash, and then I was standing here completely naked with this woman nearby," he snarled angrily, gesturing at the blushing scientist. "While I may be something of an exhibitionist, this is a bit much even for me. What in the hell is going on here?"
It took some doing but Scully and the Gunmen convinced him that it wasn't a mind-control plot by the Syndicate. He still recalled the incident at Ellens AFB and it took some doing to make him believe that it wasn't the same thing.
With a combination of apologies from the scientists and promises from the FBI agents that they wouldn't break in again, the small group left the lab. "Is my car still around the back?" Mulder said, pulling his keyring out of his coat pocket.
"As far as I know," Scully said, then reached out and rested a hand on his arm briefly. "I'm… I'm sorry I walked out on you like that, Mulder. I shouldn't have left you alone in there no matter what. We're partners and we should always have each other's backs."
He shrugged and gave her a crooked grin. Their eyes met and held in understanding. "No more ditching by either of us, then."
"Well, if this partner-bonding moment is over, we've got things to do," Frohike growled. "And so do you, Mulder. It's not too late for our, uh, plans."
"Nah—think I'm going to head home and take a shower and shave," he said, watching Scully out of the corner of his eye as he spoke. "If I've been miniaturized for two days I doubt I've had one since Friday morning, and I feel kinda hairy." He passed a hand over the two days' growth of beard on his jaw.
Scully visibly blanched then recovered and, squaring her shoulders, turned away. "See you tomorrow morning at work, Mulder."
"For sure, Scully." He watched her walk away, then turned back to the Gunmen. "Okay, guys, now let's figure out how to get our hands on that machine. You would not believe the things I saw while two inches tall the last couple of days…"
finis