Final Gathering
By: The one and only Skulz (of Dangly Chicken Inc.)
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor/Horror humor because it's a strange (dare I mention funny) idea, and horror because Skinner's in it.
Summary: Muld' and Sculls meet the Duchov' and Anders'.
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, The Lone Gunmen, and Walter Skinner belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and FOX. David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, Piper Anderson, and Chris Carter (I think) belong to themselves. 'Crafty' and his pet rat don't exist, and weren't based on anyone.
Spoilers: A bit of Hollywood A.D. but not quite, and the comment made by Mulder about 'Crafty' watching Scully was a line off 'The Rain King' (season 6). Also, there were references to the 'Dreamland' episodes (season 6). (And Ducky, no I'm NOT copying!!)
POV: Third person
Author's Note: I've been thinking about this for the longest time. I've really wanted to write a fic about Dave and Gill, but I couldn't find a good enough scenario... I thought about this one where they're secretly lovers, but I found it too strange to continue, so here's my second attempt.
Dedication: Let me put this simply: No one sane deserves this.
________________________________________________________________________
Our Bland Lives
It began the way every X-File should begin. Mulder and Scully were sulkily sitting in their office, wondering if they'd ever escape this treacherous search for truth. So far, they'd never actually found any hard-core proof, other than their own experiences. There was almost no hope for the future in their puny lives, and if there were, it would be far, far in the future.
"You want some coffee?" Mulder grunted.
"Mm-hmm," Scully mumbled.
Mulder went down to the cafeteria, dragging his feet, a frown on his face. The coffee sat in the middle of the table, looking just as bland and tasteless as ever. He sighed, and silently prayed that life would just simply end. There was really no point to it. Why did God even bother? Why was this so deeply depressing? Life was so dreary lately, and there was no light at the end of this tunnel. Mulder had almost lost almost all hope. But that was all about to change.
+
David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson were on a coffee break, they had been for the last couple of minutes, and as usual, they were bored out of their minds.
"Life has been crap lately," Gillian said.
"Mmm," David grunted in reply.
"I really wonder if life would be any different if we actually were Mulder and Scully?" Gillian asked.
"Well, of course we'd be different, Gill. Think about it. Mulder and Scully aren't actors, they're FBI. Instead of answering to Chris, they answer to Skinner. Actually, they don't answer to Skinner, they go off and do their own thing," David retorted.
"Well, yeah. Hey, wait! We don't listen to Chris!" Gillian said. Then she thought for a second. " But don't you think they'd be bored, too? If they really did exist, and we had control of what they did, then what would they do when we weren't playing them?"
"Gill, you're beginning to sound like Mulder," David laughed.
"And you sound like Scully, Dave," Gillian smirked.
"Maybe we should switch roles," David suggested.
"Yeah, sure," Gillian giggled, putting down her empty coffee cup. "C'mon, we've gotta get back to the set in a minute."
David got up and stretched his muscular arms. Then he trailed after Gillian, trying to remember his lines.
+
"Say, Scully, do you think we all have twins, you know people that look just like us, and have almost the same lives?" Mulder questioned, sipping his mocha.
Scully spat her latte out and laughed out loud. "Mulder! What kind of stupid question is that?"
"What? So you think this theory's bupkiss?" Mulder asked.
"Bupkiss? Mulder, what do you expect? I think we're all made unique," she replied.
"Come on, out of all the seventeen billion people on this planet, you think there's only one Mulder?" he inquired, "I mean, how impossible is that?"
"It's very possible that there's only one of you. How would you like it if there was a bunch of Mulder's running around?" Scully queried.
"Well, I don't know how I'd like it... But I know you'd just love it!" Mulder exclaimed, running over to tickle his partner.
Scully's face went red, and she laughed hysterically. "Mulder!" she cried between fits of giggles, "Stop it!" She gently pushed him away.
Mulder backed off, his partner looked so happy. "So, do you still think the theory's bupkiss?" Mulder smiled. "Or do you need some more reasoning?" He held his hands up, getting ready to become the 'Tickle Monster' again.
"Yeah, alright. So maybe there are other Mulder's and Scully's out there... and we're not unique at all. What exactly are we trying to prove anyways?"
"Ah, I was just seeing if you were ticklish," Mulder responded.
"Mulder!" Scully exclaimed, running over to her partner to tackle him.
The two agents ended up on the floor, play-wrestling.
Suddenly, in came A.D. Skinner. "Agents, what are you doing? I called you up to my office ten minutes ago! Move your lazy behinds and get over here!"
Mulder and Scully got up off the floor and followed Skinner to his office. What would it be this time?
+
"Mr. Duchovny, Ms. Anderson, where have you been?" Chris Carter exclaimed.
"We've been on our break, Chris, where else?" Gillian asked.
"Ms. Anderson, that break ended five minutes ago, you two are late. How can I run a show when my actors can't even get here on time?" Chris exclaimed. "And Gillian, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't talk back to your superiors," he added in a strict and annoyed tone.
David and Gillian kept walking.
"What the hell was all that about?" Gillian whispered.
Dave shrugged. "He's probably on his period or something," he reasoned.
Gillian laughed.
"And you know how upset he gets when people are late, don't worry, Gill. Don't take it too hard."
She smiled. "Thanks, Davie."
Duchovny and Anderson stepped into their dressing rooms to get changed into the clothes that were laid out for them.
David sat upon the sofa, and stared at the suit he had to wear. Mulder wasn't such a bad dresser, but then again, Mulder didn't exist. David took off his gray T-shirt, sweatpants and running shoes. Sometimes the suits got annoying, and the pants rode up his behind, and the ties choked him, but there was no way out, he'd have to wear them. "Stupid suits," he mumbled, slipping on the white shirt, and buttoning it.
Gillian held up the clothing of Scully. "Damn skirts," she said to herself. Gillian had always despised them. Why did Scully have to wear skirts? They weren't very good for running in, and it was especially stupid and vulnerable to wear them when you're doing fieldwork. Then there were the high heels. Why the heels? Who in their right mind would want to run all over the city chasing after aliens in heels? Gill figured Scully wasn't as bright as she seemed, but she began to put on the clothes anyway.
Back in Mr. Duchovny's change room, he was just finishing putting on his pants, when he heard a scream from the next room. Gillian's room. Dave did up his fly and ran straight into his friend's change room. (Thankfully, by this time she wasn't revealing more than necessary.) "Gill, what's wrong?" David asked.
Her eyes were wide with fear, and she pointed shakily at a rat that was crawling on the floor.
David rolled his eyes. "Come on, Gillie."
She shook her head.
"You, Gillian Leigh Anderson, are afraid of a stupid little rat?" David crossed his arms.
She nodded. Gillian really was scared.
David sighed. "Come on, it's okay." He put his arm around her shoulder and led her out of the room. "Can we get an exterminator in there?" David pointed to the dressing room.
Some kid from craft service rushed over. "Sorry, Mr. Duchovny, that's my pet rat."
"Okay, kid, next time, leave your pets at home. You're preparing our food for God's sake!" David exclaimed, raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry again, Mr. D.," the kid apologized and ran off with the rat.
Gill shook in Dave's arms. He looked down at her and kissed her head. "C'mon, Gill, it was only a little rat. Some kid's pet! Now get back in there and put on your jacket and heels. Chris is waiting."
Ms. Anderson nodded and headed back to her room in silence.
The Duchov' shook his head, grabbed his jacket from his room and locked the door. He'd go and wait for Gill with Chris and that rat kid from craft service.
+
Skinner stared at his two agents, drumming his fingers against the table, making them wait for his speech of the day.
Mulder's sat calmly, no smile upon his lips. It was quite obvious he was content, if you knew Mulder, that is.
On the other hand, Scully's heart was racing, pale cheeks, eyes wide open, and lips tightly pinched together. You didn't have to know her to figure out she was scared to death of what Skinner might say. She (unlike Mulder) had a passion for the rulebook, and having her career on the line was not one of her most acclaimed activities.
Mulder turned toward his partner, and smiled, trying to give her the strength he had within. It didn't work though.
"Agents, I am so disappointed in you two," Skinner boomed.
Scully's heart leapt.
"What exactly is this? This 'alien autopsy' crap! And the field report! 'The bodies, we believe, were taken by aliens'?" Skinner exclaimed.
"By aliens or some more supreme being," Mulder corrected.
"Agent Mulder, look at my face, and honestly tell me if I look like I give a..."
"I wrote the report," Scully admitted, just before Skinner had a chance to curse.
"Well, then, Agent Scully, maybe you can explain what happened out there," Skinner retorted.
"I, uh," Scully stuttered, trying to explain her thinking.
"Well, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked, giving her a questioning look.
"I can't explain it," she replied.
"Okay then, Scully. I sentence you both to a week in background checks as punishment," Skinner replied and pointed to the exit (as if they didn't know where it was).
The door closed behind the depressed agents.
"At least we're not scrubbing toilets," Scully replied.
"What are you talking about? Toilets are cake compared to background checks! Or at least they're not boring!" Mulder exclaimed.
"Okay, let's get one thing straight here: toilets and cake don't belong in the same sentence, okay? And also, what's so enjoyable about cleaning up sh."
+
"So, uh, Mr. Duchovny, what's it like?" the craft service kid asked.
"What do you mean?" he inquired.
"You know, being able to, like, kiss her," the kid said.
"Who?" David asked.
"Come on, Mr. D.! Kissing Scully!" 'Crafty' exclaimed.
The Duchov' beamed. "Well, I'm an actor. It's not as intimate as you think."
"I saw you blushing! You know you like her, Mr. D.," he replied, a twinkle in his eye.
"Kid, there's nothing between me and Gillian. And stop calling me Mr. Duchovny! My name's David for heaven's sake!"
"C'mon! I've watched you two, on TV, on the set, and even when you're on your coffee breaks. I know you like her!"
"Listen, Crafty, I can assure you we're not together. Now go get me another coffee," Dave ordered, in a sort of demanding, but sweet tone. "Oh! And Crafty?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't watch my Gillie."
Crafty laughed, and scampered off to the kitchen to get David's coffee (his rat had been put back in its cage).
Suddenly, a scream arose from Ms. Anderson's change room.
David stood up in an instant. He looked over at the rat's cage. The door was closed and locked. So what was happening in there?
He ran down toward his friend's room, pounding on the locked door. Dave backed up a little and rammed it once. It didn't fall down.
There were still screams from inside the room.
"Don't worry, Gillian! I'm coming!" David cried, and rammed the door again with his shoulder.
Still no impact on the door.
David tried one last time ramming the door with his painful shoulder, and it worked. He pushed the door wide open, and suddenly realized the screaming had stopped. There was no one in the room.
Duchovny turned around once. Twice. Three times. No one was in that room.
Where had the screaming come from? Had he just imagined it? And more importantly where was Gillian? He inhaled slowly, held it, and exhaled. Maybe the X-Files were getting to him. David turned toward the door, but something grabbed his ankle, causing him to fall flat on the floor. David grabbed the edge of the door, but whatever had hold of him wouldn't let go and he was being dragged, screaming across the floor into...
+
"...it?" Scully retorted.
Mulder just rolled his eyes. "I'm going to get some lunch, don't wait up for me."
Scully nodded and waved goodbye to her partner.
By: The one and only Skulz (of Dangly Chicken Inc.)
Rating: PG
Genre: Humor/Horror humor because it's a strange (dare I mention funny) idea, and horror because Skinner's in it.
Summary: Muld' and Sculls meet the Duchov' and Anders'.
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, The Lone Gunmen, and Walter Skinner belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and FOX. David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, Piper Anderson, and Chris Carter (I think) belong to themselves. 'Crafty' and his pet rat don't exist, and weren't based on anyone.
Spoilers: A bit of Hollywood A.D. but not quite, and the comment made by Mulder about 'Crafty' watching Scully was a line off 'The Rain King' (season 6). Also, there were references to the 'Dreamland' episodes (season 6). (And Ducky, no I'm NOT copying!!)
POV: Third person
Author's Note: I've been thinking about this for the longest time. I've really wanted to write a fic about Dave and Gill, but I couldn't find a good enough scenario... I thought about this one where they're secretly lovers, but I found it too strange to continue, so here's my second attempt.
Dedication: Let me put this simply: No one sane deserves this.
________________________________________________________________________
Our Bland Lives
It began the way every X-File should begin. Mulder and Scully were sulkily sitting in their office, wondering if they'd ever escape this treacherous search for truth. So far, they'd never actually found any hard-core proof, other than their own experiences. There was almost no hope for the future in their puny lives, and if there were, it would be far, far in the future.
"You want some coffee?" Mulder grunted.
"Mm-hmm," Scully mumbled.
Mulder went down to the cafeteria, dragging his feet, a frown on his face. The coffee sat in the middle of the table, looking just as bland and tasteless as ever. He sighed, and silently prayed that life would just simply end. There was really no point to it. Why did God even bother? Why was this so deeply depressing? Life was so dreary lately, and there was no light at the end of this tunnel. Mulder had almost lost almost all hope. But that was all about to change.
+
David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson were on a coffee break, they had been for the last couple of minutes, and as usual, they were bored out of their minds.
"Life has been crap lately," Gillian said.
"Mmm," David grunted in reply.
"I really wonder if life would be any different if we actually were Mulder and Scully?" Gillian asked.
"Well, of course we'd be different, Gill. Think about it. Mulder and Scully aren't actors, they're FBI. Instead of answering to Chris, they answer to Skinner. Actually, they don't answer to Skinner, they go off and do their own thing," David retorted.
"Well, yeah. Hey, wait! We don't listen to Chris!" Gillian said. Then she thought for a second. " But don't you think they'd be bored, too? If they really did exist, and we had control of what they did, then what would they do when we weren't playing them?"
"Gill, you're beginning to sound like Mulder," David laughed.
"And you sound like Scully, Dave," Gillian smirked.
"Maybe we should switch roles," David suggested.
"Yeah, sure," Gillian giggled, putting down her empty coffee cup. "C'mon, we've gotta get back to the set in a minute."
David got up and stretched his muscular arms. Then he trailed after Gillian, trying to remember his lines.
+
"Say, Scully, do you think we all have twins, you know people that look just like us, and have almost the same lives?" Mulder questioned, sipping his mocha.
Scully spat her latte out and laughed out loud. "Mulder! What kind of stupid question is that?"
"What? So you think this theory's bupkiss?" Mulder asked.
"Bupkiss? Mulder, what do you expect? I think we're all made unique," she replied.
"Come on, out of all the seventeen billion people on this planet, you think there's only one Mulder?" he inquired, "I mean, how impossible is that?"
"It's very possible that there's only one of you. How would you like it if there was a bunch of Mulder's running around?" Scully queried.
"Well, I don't know how I'd like it... But I know you'd just love it!" Mulder exclaimed, running over to tickle his partner.
Scully's face went red, and she laughed hysterically. "Mulder!" she cried between fits of giggles, "Stop it!" She gently pushed him away.
Mulder backed off, his partner looked so happy. "So, do you still think the theory's bupkiss?" Mulder smiled. "Or do you need some more reasoning?" He held his hands up, getting ready to become the 'Tickle Monster' again.
"Yeah, alright. So maybe there are other Mulder's and Scully's out there... and we're not unique at all. What exactly are we trying to prove anyways?"
"Ah, I was just seeing if you were ticklish," Mulder responded.
"Mulder!" Scully exclaimed, running over to her partner to tackle him.
The two agents ended up on the floor, play-wrestling.
Suddenly, in came A.D. Skinner. "Agents, what are you doing? I called you up to my office ten minutes ago! Move your lazy behinds and get over here!"
Mulder and Scully got up off the floor and followed Skinner to his office. What would it be this time?
+
"Mr. Duchovny, Ms. Anderson, where have you been?" Chris Carter exclaimed.
"We've been on our break, Chris, where else?" Gillian asked.
"Ms. Anderson, that break ended five minutes ago, you two are late. How can I run a show when my actors can't even get here on time?" Chris exclaimed. "And Gillian, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't talk back to your superiors," he added in a strict and annoyed tone.
David and Gillian kept walking.
"What the hell was all that about?" Gillian whispered.
Dave shrugged. "He's probably on his period or something," he reasoned.
Gillian laughed.
"And you know how upset he gets when people are late, don't worry, Gill. Don't take it too hard."
She smiled. "Thanks, Davie."
Duchovny and Anderson stepped into their dressing rooms to get changed into the clothes that were laid out for them.
David sat upon the sofa, and stared at the suit he had to wear. Mulder wasn't such a bad dresser, but then again, Mulder didn't exist. David took off his gray T-shirt, sweatpants and running shoes. Sometimes the suits got annoying, and the pants rode up his behind, and the ties choked him, but there was no way out, he'd have to wear them. "Stupid suits," he mumbled, slipping on the white shirt, and buttoning it.
Gillian held up the clothing of Scully. "Damn skirts," she said to herself. Gillian had always despised them. Why did Scully have to wear skirts? They weren't very good for running in, and it was especially stupid and vulnerable to wear them when you're doing fieldwork. Then there were the high heels. Why the heels? Who in their right mind would want to run all over the city chasing after aliens in heels? Gill figured Scully wasn't as bright as she seemed, but she began to put on the clothes anyway.
Back in Mr. Duchovny's change room, he was just finishing putting on his pants, when he heard a scream from the next room. Gillian's room. Dave did up his fly and ran straight into his friend's change room. (Thankfully, by this time she wasn't revealing more than necessary.) "Gill, what's wrong?" David asked.
Her eyes were wide with fear, and she pointed shakily at a rat that was crawling on the floor.
David rolled his eyes. "Come on, Gillie."
She shook her head.
"You, Gillian Leigh Anderson, are afraid of a stupid little rat?" David crossed his arms.
She nodded. Gillian really was scared.
David sighed. "Come on, it's okay." He put his arm around her shoulder and led her out of the room. "Can we get an exterminator in there?" David pointed to the dressing room.
Some kid from craft service rushed over. "Sorry, Mr. Duchovny, that's my pet rat."
"Okay, kid, next time, leave your pets at home. You're preparing our food for God's sake!" David exclaimed, raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry again, Mr. D.," the kid apologized and ran off with the rat.
Gill shook in Dave's arms. He looked down at her and kissed her head. "C'mon, Gill, it was only a little rat. Some kid's pet! Now get back in there and put on your jacket and heels. Chris is waiting."
Ms. Anderson nodded and headed back to her room in silence.
The Duchov' shook his head, grabbed his jacket from his room and locked the door. He'd go and wait for Gill with Chris and that rat kid from craft service.
+
Skinner stared at his two agents, drumming his fingers against the table, making them wait for his speech of the day.
Mulder's sat calmly, no smile upon his lips. It was quite obvious he was content, if you knew Mulder, that is.
On the other hand, Scully's heart was racing, pale cheeks, eyes wide open, and lips tightly pinched together. You didn't have to know her to figure out she was scared to death of what Skinner might say. She (unlike Mulder) had a passion for the rulebook, and having her career on the line was not one of her most acclaimed activities.
Mulder turned toward his partner, and smiled, trying to give her the strength he had within. It didn't work though.
"Agents, I am so disappointed in you two," Skinner boomed.
Scully's heart leapt.
"What exactly is this? This 'alien autopsy' crap! And the field report! 'The bodies, we believe, were taken by aliens'?" Skinner exclaimed.
"By aliens or some more supreme being," Mulder corrected.
"Agent Mulder, look at my face, and honestly tell me if I look like I give a..."
"I wrote the report," Scully admitted, just before Skinner had a chance to curse.
"Well, then, Agent Scully, maybe you can explain what happened out there," Skinner retorted.
"I, uh," Scully stuttered, trying to explain her thinking.
"Well, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked, giving her a questioning look.
"I can't explain it," she replied.
"Okay then, Scully. I sentence you both to a week in background checks as punishment," Skinner replied and pointed to the exit (as if they didn't know where it was).
The door closed behind the depressed agents.
"At least we're not scrubbing toilets," Scully replied.
"What are you talking about? Toilets are cake compared to background checks! Or at least they're not boring!" Mulder exclaimed.
"Okay, let's get one thing straight here: toilets and cake don't belong in the same sentence, okay? And also, what's so enjoyable about cleaning up sh."
+
"So, uh, Mr. Duchovny, what's it like?" the craft service kid asked.
"What do you mean?" he inquired.
"You know, being able to, like, kiss her," the kid said.
"Who?" David asked.
"Come on, Mr. D.! Kissing Scully!" 'Crafty' exclaimed.
The Duchov' beamed. "Well, I'm an actor. It's not as intimate as you think."
"I saw you blushing! You know you like her, Mr. D.," he replied, a twinkle in his eye.
"Kid, there's nothing between me and Gillian. And stop calling me Mr. Duchovny! My name's David for heaven's sake!"
"C'mon! I've watched you two, on TV, on the set, and even when you're on your coffee breaks. I know you like her!"
"Listen, Crafty, I can assure you we're not together. Now go get me another coffee," Dave ordered, in a sort of demanding, but sweet tone. "Oh! And Crafty?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't watch my Gillie."
Crafty laughed, and scampered off to the kitchen to get David's coffee (his rat had been put back in its cage).
Suddenly, a scream arose from Ms. Anderson's change room.
David stood up in an instant. He looked over at the rat's cage. The door was closed and locked. So what was happening in there?
He ran down toward his friend's room, pounding on the locked door. Dave backed up a little and rammed it once. It didn't fall down.
There were still screams from inside the room.
"Don't worry, Gillian! I'm coming!" David cried, and rammed the door again with his shoulder.
Still no impact on the door.
David tried one last time ramming the door with his painful shoulder, and it worked. He pushed the door wide open, and suddenly realized the screaming had stopped. There was no one in the room.
Duchovny turned around once. Twice. Three times. No one was in that room.
Where had the screaming come from? Had he just imagined it? And more importantly where was Gillian? He inhaled slowly, held it, and exhaled. Maybe the X-Files were getting to him. David turned toward the door, but something grabbed his ankle, causing him to fall flat on the floor. David grabbed the edge of the door, but whatever had hold of him wouldn't let go and he was being dragged, screaming across the floor into...
+
"...it?" Scully retorted.
Mulder just rolled his eyes. "I'm going to get some lunch, don't wait up for me."
Scully nodded and waved goodbye to her partner.