Title: A Day In The Park
Authors: "The Fearsome Foursome" aka Winged Rat, Chimera, Ishi (The
Pollen Warrior, Last of the Alienated Sandwich Making Women), and Kayla
Ariev.
Spoilers: Quagmire
Rating: R
Category: SHR
Keywords: Skinner/Maggie Romance. Skinner/Other Romance. Slash.
Mulder/Scully UST.
Summary: Skinner makes a furry new friend at the FBI picnic. Yes, it is
what it sounds like. Read at your own risk.
Any Park In D.C., FBI Annual Picnic
July 4 1999
11:21 AM
It was a dark and stormy afternoon, well; it was really warm but
not too humid. Scully and Mulder emerged from a red Ford Taurus, and
opened the back to let out Queequeg. The yappy little dog headed
straight to the tire and proceeded to relieve himself. Scully quickly
attached the leash and Mulder grabbed their green blanket.
"Hey, Scully," shouted Mulder, "should I bring the gun? This might
get dangerous."
"No Mulder." She shot him a dirty look. "Please try to behave
yourself. Remember what happened last time?"
"But Scully, I really thought we were still on the mushrooms when
I...."
"Mulder, leave the gun in the car."
Mulder reluctantly returned the gun to the glove compartment.
Out of the corner of her eye, Scully noticed her mother exiting
her sedan nearby.
"Hi, Dana!" Maggie exclaimed loudly. "Hi, Fox! I'm so glad to see
you two." Mulder cringed, but they both greeted her cheerfully.
"Good timing, Mom," Scully told her. "Thanks for coming."
Maggie could see Skinner's car pulling up in the distance. "Oh,
Dana, I see an old friend of mine," she cried. "I'll meet up with you
later, lovebirds."
It was Scully's turn to cringe. Mulder was now grinning. "Mom, I
told you, we're not...." It was too late. Maggie had already headed off
toward the assistant director's car.
So the partners proceeded to a nice bit of grass in the shade of a
tall oak. As Scully laid out the blanket, Mulder tried in vain to
remove the Pomeranian that had attached itself to his leg.
"Damn dog," Mulder grumbled. "I knew we shouldn't have gone back
to the forest to look for you. How was I to know we would actually find
you?"
"Excuse me, Mulder?" Scully gave him the eyebrow.
"I wasn't really looking for the dog, I was just trying to make
you feel better," he muttered. Scully smiled and helped pry the dog off
his leg momentarily.
"Walter!" Maggie screamed across the parking lot. "Remember me?"
A.D. Skinner turned to see the radiant complexion of the lovely
Miss Scully's mother. He knew the younger Scully was already taken, but
maybe he still had a chance with her mother....
"Of course, Mrs. Scully, how could I forget?" Skinner replied.
"Oh, Walter, just Maggie, please," she gushed. Maggie gazed over
her shoulder to find where her daughter and agent Mulder had situated
themselves, and then pointed in the other direction. "Care to join me?"
she hinted.
"I'd love to," Walter replied while focusing beyond Maggie's eyes
deep into the past. He took his checkered blanket in one hand and
Maggie's hand in the other, and the two headed down the grassy hill to
claim a spot.
"Isn't today a beautiful day for a picnic?" Mulder implied
sarcastically. Scully looked around, noticing that although the sky was
foreboding, the day was still warm. The scenery in front of them
included a fairly large pond covered in rowboats, reeds and ducks. On
the banks there were several tables cascaded with food, mostly potato
salads and abnormally large jell-o mold creations. Many fellow FBI
associates were gathered in groups on large blankets, discussing
business. Scully and Mulder made no attempts to join their colleagues.
They took pride in their anti-social behaviorisms.
Maggie and Walter had situated themselves by the water's edge, and
were engaged in an intriguing conversation on his work. Maggie gazed
into his eyes with an old passion left alive from years past. Walter,
however, seemed to keep the conversation strictly on a friendly level.
Mrs. Scully slithered closer to him. Walter kept the wave of nauseous
inside his rough exterior, and pretended not to notice. She obviously
wasn't playing hard-to-get.
Meanwhile, Mulder made attempts to discern why, after all these
years, Scully had finally not only agreed to go to the FBI Independence
Day picnic, but had convinced him to go along with her.
"I'll only go if you come with, Mulder," she had insisted. With
such flattery, how could he resist? So he had (reluctantly) come along
with Scully to the picnic. At least he was getting a free meal out of
the deal.
Mulder had always hated being social. He hated the falseness, he
hated the fallacy and he hated the perfidiousness of having to tell
people lies and having to plaster a counterfeit smile on his lips. He
only wanted to smile for Scully anymore, and whenever he did so, it was
genuine. None of that impersonal, falsified smiles people used for
photographs and for social gatherings, such as these.
Mulder also knew that Scully hated socializing as well. It seemed
she was just as bad as he was. She also had to deal with the
consequences of "invading the boys' club." Whenever he really sat and
thought about how much crap she had put up with, he could not help but
be in awe of her courage and her strength. She was an amazing woman.
"Scully, I don't know about you, but I am starving. I haven't
eaten in a while."
"I have no doubt," she quipped. "I've seen what you keep in your
kitchen." She paused as he looked at her quizzically and then
continued. "Matzo and sunflower seeds?"
"Ah," he said, nodding sarcastically.
They unanimously decided to go for food, and left the helpless dog
tied to the tree. Within moments, Queequeg had bitten through the leash
and was making a beeline dash toward the nearby forest.
Skinner, after consuming several beers, simply put, had to piss.
He excused himself from Maggie's company, and made his way to a nearby
tree, while Maggie watched discreetly. Rounding a bend, a flash of
orange fluff caught his eye, and he noticed Scully's dog making his way
to the forest. Now, Queequeg was no longer as young as he once was, and
had considerably slowed his speed. He also caught a glimpse of Skinner,
and for a moment their eyes met. It was like a spark igniting deep in
their souls. They both felt more complete by that single look then they
had in their entire lives. Skinner made a quick glance over his
shoulder, making sure Maggie had not decided to come looking for him,
and made off after Queequeg.
Queequeg trailed further and further into the dimly lit forest,
with Skinner following a few steps behind. The dog was just a little
faster than he was. Skinner felt a growing urgency to catch up with the
dog. Although Queequeg felt the same about this bold step in an unknown
direction, he played hard-to-get from the bald A.D.
They slowly wound their way toward an open yet secluded spot in
the woods. It was hard to imagine that they were just miles from the
capital of the United States. Here Queequeg stopped and sat up on his
haunches among the shrubbery. Skinner stared in awe. He slowly lowered
himself to the dog's eye level.
"This is against FBI regulations," Skinner whispered into the
Pomeranian's ear.
"Yip, yip," Queequeg replied. "Bark."
"I understand completely," Skinner told him. "I have my
reservations, too. But it's destiny, Queequeg, and we can never deny
our true love."
"Yip, bark, yip."
Slowly the dog began to sensually lick in a path up Walter's jaw...
"Where could he be?" Scully wondered aloud. She and Mulder had
searched the entire picnic grounds after finding the remains of
Queequeg's leash by the tree. She had asked for Maggie's help, but her
mother had said she was already busy looking for Skinner, who had
escaped similarly.
"Why would your mother be looking for Skinner?" Mulder asked
Scully.
"I don't want to know," Scully muttered. "I knew it was a bad
idea to introduce them."
"Queequeg!" Mulder hollered, wishing he had never gone back to
look for the stupid dog all those years ago. Whenever he got within
three feet of Scully, her dog would attach its sharp little teeth to
his leg, loyally defending its owner.
Suddenly, as if an apparition, Skinner appeared out of the
shrubbery, holding the dog in his arms. Both looked exhausted and were
panting heavily.
"I... um... found your dog," Skinner mumbled, as Mulder and Scully
stared. "He ran off. It was, uh, a long chase."
Scully smiled nervously and removed the dog from Skinner's grip.
The A.D. seemed reluctant to let go of Queequeg, but handed it over to
Scully. "Thank you, sir," Scully said, noticing her mother rushing
toward them.
"Walter!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "I was so
worried about you! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Skinner told her, "Just fine."
"My goodness, that dog certainly left enough fur on you," Maggie
exclaimed. Skinner glanced down at his jacket, which was coated with
orange fur.
"Agents, I'm, um, feeling a little ill," Skinner told Mulder and
Scully. "I'll be going now. Give the rest of the bureau my regards."
They watched in bewilderment as he hurried off toward his car.
Scully's apartment
July 5, 1999
11:21 PM
Mulder emerged from Scully's kitchen carrying a pot of chamomile
tea, and a bag of popcorn for himself. His partner didn't indulge in
saturated fats.
"Would you like a non-fat tofutti Rice Dreamsicle with that, Miss
Scully?" Mulder inquired. Scully shot him the look.
"Hurry up, Mulder, it can't be that difficult to operate the
microwave. Letterman is almost on."
On his way to the couch, Mulder tripped over Queequeg as he
engaged in extracurricular activities with the radiator. "I don't think
your dog gets out enough, Scully," he told her. "He's getting pretty
desperate."
"And your love life sets such an example, Mulder," Scully said
sarcastically. "You have a radiator, don't you?"
"I have a phone, too," Mulder replied. "1-800-REDHEAD never
fails."
"But really, Mulder, Queequeg's been acting kind of peculiar
lately," Scully mentioned more seriously. "Ever since that incident at
the picnic, he's been paying a lot more attention to household
appliances."
"Interesting," Mulder speculated. "You don't think Skinner did
anything to him, do you?"
Scully just rolled her eyes, as Queequeg sniffed out the vacuum
hose. But the thought had crossed her mind.
As they sat down to watch the Letterman show, Scully's mind
drifted to other places that will remain anonymous. By the end of the
show her head had found a final resting place on Mulder's shoulder.
Unwilling to wake her, he eventually fell into a dreamless sleep. And
further into the night, when every appliance in the house had been
discovered and put to use, Queequeg joined them.
The End
Author's Note: This story was written by four people who are
normally insane enough, but were even more so than usual at the time.
They were surviving on caffeine and sunflower seeds while half watching
X-Files and half writing this horrific Round Robin story. But it does
seem in character for Skinner.
Please send feedback, flames, and marriage proposals to:
missingthefun@hotmail.com
Authors: "The Fearsome Foursome" aka Winged Rat, Chimera, Ishi (The
Pollen Warrior, Last of the Alienated Sandwich Making Women), and Kayla
Ariev.
Spoilers: Quagmire
Rating: R
Category: SHR
Keywords: Skinner/Maggie Romance. Skinner/Other Romance. Slash.
Mulder/Scully UST.
Summary: Skinner makes a furry new friend at the FBI picnic. Yes, it is
what it sounds like. Read at your own risk.
Any Park In D.C., FBI Annual Picnic
July 4 1999
11:21 AM
It was a dark and stormy afternoon, well; it was really warm but
not too humid. Scully and Mulder emerged from a red Ford Taurus, and
opened the back to let out Queequeg. The yappy little dog headed
straight to the tire and proceeded to relieve himself. Scully quickly
attached the leash and Mulder grabbed their green blanket.
"Hey, Scully," shouted Mulder, "should I bring the gun? This might
get dangerous."
"No Mulder." She shot him a dirty look. "Please try to behave
yourself. Remember what happened last time?"
"But Scully, I really thought we were still on the mushrooms when
I...."
"Mulder, leave the gun in the car."
Mulder reluctantly returned the gun to the glove compartment.
Out of the corner of her eye, Scully noticed her mother exiting
her sedan nearby.
"Hi, Dana!" Maggie exclaimed loudly. "Hi, Fox! I'm so glad to see
you two." Mulder cringed, but they both greeted her cheerfully.
"Good timing, Mom," Scully told her. "Thanks for coming."
Maggie could see Skinner's car pulling up in the distance. "Oh,
Dana, I see an old friend of mine," she cried. "I'll meet up with you
later, lovebirds."
It was Scully's turn to cringe. Mulder was now grinning. "Mom, I
told you, we're not...." It was too late. Maggie had already headed off
toward the assistant director's car.
So the partners proceeded to a nice bit of grass in the shade of a
tall oak. As Scully laid out the blanket, Mulder tried in vain to
remove the Pomeranian that had attached itself to his leg.
"Damn dog," Mulder grumbled. "I knew we shouldn't have gone back
to the forest to look for you. How was I to know we would actually find
you?"
"Excuse me, Mulder?" Scully gave him the eyebrow.
"I wasn't really looking for the dog, I was just trying to make
you feel better," he muttered. Scully smiled and helped pry the dog off
his leg momentarily.
"Walter!" Maggie screamed across the parking lot. "Remember me?"
A.D. Skinner turned to see the radiant complexion of the lovely
Miss Scully's mother. He knew the younger Scully was already taken, but
maybe he still had a chance with her mother....
"Of course, Mrs. Scully, how could I forget?" Skinner replied.
"Oh, Walter, just Maggie, please," she gushed. Maggie gazed over
her shoulder to find where her daughter and agent Mulder had situated
themselves, and then pointed in the other direction. "Care to join me?"
she hinted.
"I'd love to," Walter replied while focusing beyond Maggie's eyes
deep into the past. He took his checkered blanket in one hand and
Maggie's hand in the other, and the two headed down the grassy hill to
claim a spot.
"Isn't today a beautiful day for a picnic?" Mulder implied
sarcastically. Scully looked around, noticing that although the sky was
foreboding, the day was still warm. The scenery in front of them
included a fairly large pond covered in rowboats, reeds and ducks. On
the banks there were several tables cascaded with food, mostly potato
salads and abnormally large jell-o mold creations. Many fellow FBI
associates were gathered in groups on large blankets, discussing
business. Scully and Mulder made no attempts to join their colleagues.
They took pride in their anti-social behaviorisms.
Maggie and Walter had situated themselves by the water's edge, and
were engaged in an intriguing conversation on his work. Maggie gazed
into his eyes with an old passion left alive from years past. Walter,
however, seemed to keep the conversation strictly on a friendly level.
Mrs. Scully slithered closer to him. Walter kept the wave of nauseous
inside his rough exterior, and pretended not to notice. She obviously
wasn't playing hard-to-get.
Meanwhile, Mulder made attempts to discern why, after all these
years, Scully had finally not only agreed to go to the FBI Independence
Day picnic, but had convinced him to go along with her.
"I'll only go if you come with, Mulder," she had insisted. With
such flattery, how could he resist? So he had (reluctantly) come along
with Scully to the picnic. At least he was getting a free meal out of
the deal.
Mulder had always hated being social. He hated the falseness, he
hated the fallacy and he hated the perfidiousness of having to tell
people lies and having to plaster a counterfeit smile on his lips. He
only wanted to smile for Scully anymore, and whenever he did so, it was
genuine. None of that impersonal, falsified smiles people used for
photographs and for social gatherings, such as these.
Mulder also knew that Scully hated socializing as well. It seemed
she was just as bad as he was. She also had to deal with the
consequences of "invading the boys' club." Whenever he really sat and
thought about how much crap she had put up with, he could not help but
be in awe of her courage and her strength. She was an amazing woman.
"Scully, I don't know about you, but I am starving. I haven't
eaten in a while."
"I have no doubt," she quipped. "I've seen what you keep in your
kitchen." She paused as he looked at her quizzically and then
continued. "Matzo and sunflower seeds?"
"Ah," he said, nodding sarcastically.
They unanimously decided to go for food, and left the helpless dog
tied to the tree. Within moments, Queequeg had bitten through the leash
and was making a beeline dash toward the nearby forest.
Skinner, after consuming several beers, simply put, had to piss.
He excused himself from Maggie's company, and made his way to a nearby
tree, while Maggie watched discreetly. Rounding a bend, a flash of
orange fluff caught his eye, and he noticed Scully's dog making his way
to the forest. Now, Queequeg was no longer as young as he once was, and
had considerably slowed his speed. He also caught a glimpse of Skinner,
and for a moment their eyes met. It was like a spark igniting deep in
their souls. They both felt more complete by that single look then they
had in their entire lives. Skinner made a quick glance over his
shoulder, making sure Maggie had not decided to come looking for him,
and made off after Queequeg.
Queequeg trailed further and further into the dimly lit forest,
with Skinner following a few steps behind. The dog was just a little
faster than he was. Skinner felt a growing urgency to catch up with the
dog. Although Queequeg felt the same about this bold step in an unknown
direction, he played hard-to-get from the bald A.D.
They slowly wound their way toward an open yet secluded spot in
the woods. It was hard to imagine that they were just miles from the
capital of the United States. Here Queequeg stopped and sat up on his
haunches among the shrubbery. Skinner stared in awe. He slowly lowered
himself to the dog's eye level.
"This is against FBI regulations," Skinner whispered into the
Pomeranian's ear.
"Yip, yip," Queequeg replied. "Bark."
"I understand completely," Skinner told him. "I have my
reservations, too. But it's destiny, Queequeg, and we can never deny
our true love."
"Yip, bark, yip."
Slowly the dog began to sensually lick in a path up Walter's jaw...
"Where could he be?" Scully wondered aloud. She and Mulder had
searched the entire picnic grounds after finding the remains of
Queequeg's leash by the tree. She had asked for Maggie's help, but her
mother had said she was already busy looking for Skinner, who had
escaped similarly.
"Why would your mother be looking for Skinner?" Mulder asked
Scully.
"I don't want to know," Scully muttered. "I knew it was a bad
idea to introduce them."
"Queequeg!" Mulder hollered, wishing he had never gone back to
look for the stupid dog all those years ago. Whenever he got within
three feet of Scully, her dog would attach its sharp little teeth to
his leg, loyally defending its owner.
Suddenly, as if an apparition, Skinner appeared out of the
shrubbery, holding the dog in his arms. Both looked exhausted and were
panting heavily.
"I... um... found your dog," Skinner mumbled, as Mulder and Scully
stared. "He ran off. It was, uh, a long chase."
Scully smiled nervously and removed the dog from Skinner's grip.
The A.D. seemed reluctant to let go of Queequeg, but handed it over to
Scully. "Thank you, sir," Scully said, noticing her mother rushing
toward them.
"Walter!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "I was so
worried about you! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Skinner told her, "Just fine."
"My goodness, that dog certainly left enough fur on you," Maggie
exclaimed. Skinner glanced down at his jacket, which was coated with
orange fur.
"Agents, I'm, um, feeling a little ill," Skinner told Mulder and
Scully. "I'll be going now. Give the rest of the bureau my regards."
They watched in bewilderment as he hurried off toward his car.
Scully's apartment
July 5, 1999
11:21 PM
Mulder emerged from Scully's kitchen carrying a pot of chamomile
tea, and a bag of popcorn for himself. His partner didn't indulge in
saturated fats.
"Would you like a non-fat tofutti Rice Dreamsicle with that, Miss
Scully?" Mulder inquired. Scully shot him the look.
"Hurry up, Mulder, it can't be that difficult to operate the
microwave. Letterman is almost on."
On his way to the couch, Mulder tripped over Queequeg as he
engaged in extracurricular activities with the radiator. "I don't think
your dog gets out enough, Scully," he told her. "He's getting pretty
desperate."
"And your love life sets such an example, Mulder," Scully said
sarcastically. "You have a radiator, don't you?"
"I have a phone, too," Mulder replied. "1-800-REDHEAD never
fails."
"But really, Mulder, Queequeg's been acting kind of peculiar
lately," Scully mentioned more seriously. "Ever since that incident at
the picnic, he's been paying a lot more attention to household
appliances."
"Interesting," Mulder speculated. "You don't think Skinner did
anything to him, do you?"
Scully just rolled her eyes, as Queequeg sniffed out the vacuum
hose. But the thought had crossed her mind.
As they sat down to watch the Letterman show, Scully's mind
drifted to other places that will remain anonymous. By the end of the
show her head had found a final resting place on Mulder's shoulder.
Unwilling to wake her, he eventually fell into a dreamless sleep. And
further into the night, when every appliance in the house had been
discovered and put to use, Queequeg joined them.
The End
Author's Note: This story was written by four people who are
normally insane enough, but were even more so than usual at the time.
They were surviving on caffeine and sunflower seeds while half watching
X-Files and half writing this horrific Round Robin story. But it does
seem in character for Skinner.
Please send feedback, flames, and marriage proposals to:
missingthefun@hotmail.com