Author's Note: I just checked the site today, Monday, and almost had a
heart attack. I've never gotten that many reviews for anything in my
entire life. Thanks from the bottom of my heart, everybody. Keep it up.
I am nowhere *near* finished yet. There's just too much fun left to be
had. :D Here's more!
Chapter Three: "The Cow Says Muumuu."
Skinner had actually been coping pretty well since he'd arrived that morning. Most of the Suits he'd met as he walked down the halls hadn't said a word, given his position of A.D. It also helped that while he didn't put up with any bullshit, he didn't give any, either. There was near-silence as he clopped down the halls in his heels towards his office, dressed very well in his tasteful outfit. A few people who remembered their manners nodded their heads politely. Then, of course, as soon as he was out of range, the whispering started.
"How the hell did he get his hands on that outfit?"
"He actually looks GOOD. Who helped him?"
"His wife?"
"Nah. She's out of town. Kimberly?"
"Please. She can barely stand him."
"Then who?"
"Who cares? I wanna see that tight butt of his again!" came the last voice, a bit too loudly.
Skinner turned around and glared at the pack of Suits in the hallway. He'd heard that. He was a proud ex-Marine, a man with a good job who was serving his country well, and for the second time, at that. He had his pride. But telling them to shove it, at least today, was out of the question. So, he gave them what they wanted. He turned around and walked away, letting his hips sway as much as he could without falling over.
The pack set up a cheer, and he felt ridiculously pleased at that. He had power. He had good looks. And now, he had a nice ass --- something else to put on his resume. This was going to be interesting.
He approached his office and, out of habit, opened the inner door. Everything seemed normal, except for his desk chair, which had its back to him. Skinner eyed it suspiciously, and then cleared his throat. There was a rustling. The chair turned around to reveal Holly.
"Walter! You look great!" she said pleasantly.
Skinner opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. *Walter?* Nobody called him by his first name. Well, maybe Scully, once, but she was sort of high on adrenaline because Mulder had been drowning in the Bermuda Triangle at the time. Finally the gears in his head creaked and he formed a word.
"Th-Thanks."
Holly smiled gently and stood up, tugging at her pants. Skinner was embarrassed. His suit was enormous on her. The neck of the shirt and its tie were very loose, her hands were buried in the sleeves, and she was ready to trip on the pant legs.
"Ready to get to work?" she asked cheerfully.
"Uh, sure," he said, as they both walked out into the 'outer hull,' where Holly's desk was.
Skinner set down his stuff and Holly turned on the desk's computer.
"Okay. You're a good boss, so I won't work you too hard today," she said, and winked. "First thing I need you to do is get started sorting and coding these expense reports."
She pointed at a huge pile of paper in one corner of her desk, and Skinner looked mildly alarmed. She saw the fear in his eyes.
"Walter, don't worry. It's easy. I'll show you."
"Excuse me. Before this goes any further, Holly, I would appreciate 'sir' today. Not Walter. It's just a bit strange, to hear that coming from you."
Holly looked down for a moment. "I'm sorry, but rules are rules. All secretaries are to be addressed by their first name. And you, unfortunately, will have to address me as A.D. Baker, or ma'am."
"Rules?" Skinner asked, puzzled. "What rules?"
Holly sighed. She gently led him outside to one of the myriad "Rules" posters all over the place. It was a laundry list of rules and regulations, all governing this one day.
"Number 14. Right there."
He read it in astonishment. She was right, and clearly not very happy about it, but determined to walk the straight and narrow on this one. He shrugged his shoulders and they walked back in.
"Walter it is, then," he said. "What do I do?"
***
The same thing was happening up on the fifth floor, although it was a lot less friendly. The first thing Kersh did when he saw Rhonda, in her hideous suit, sitting in his chair, was start yelling. He was *very* surprised when Rhonda started yelling back. She ordered him into the outer office, to get started typing up some depositions, and on top of that, insisted he remove his raincoat. He complied.
And she saw what he'd come to work in.
She didn't know whether to be appalled or amused. Her face white with shock, she murmured at him to 'get busy' and then retreated into her temporary office, shutting the door behind her. She had to tell somebody about this. However, the conversation from the day before was ringing in her ears.
*You are my temporary secretary.*
*You're not getting high marks from me right now.*
*If you screw anything up tomorrow . . . God help you.*
She stared at the phone on the desk, knitted her eyebrows, and made her decision.
"Oh, the hell with it. If I'm going to get fired, then I'll just go out in a blaze of glory."
She picked up the receiver and dialed. A minute later, a smile blossomed on her face.
"Holly? Rhonda. Big news."
***
The women were stretching in the X-files office. The men were adjusting themselves. They'd all settled in for a morning of paperwork and avoiding the rest of the planet, but so far, mostly there was uncomfortable silence and very little typing. Scully and Reyes were bored stiff with their partners' paperwork. And between the demonic possession stuff and the medical jargon in their partners' files, Doggett and Mulder were totally lost.
"Hey, uh, Scully?" Mulder asked.
"Hm?" she said.
"Could you, by any chance, help me with this paperwork? There are some questions that I just can't answer, because they're asking for your medical opinion and well, I'm not you."
Scully had been buried in her partner's paperwork all morning. She was pissed, the UFO tie was itching her collar, and she was not interested in being lured into doing work for Mulder, who she was now convinced was a total lazy-ass. She swiveled around in his chair and glared at him. Doggett and Reyes were watching, nervously. This was it.
"No. I can't help you," she said finally. "You know why?"
Mulder was looking frightened. "Uh, no."
"Because I *always* have to do the paperwork. Because you're lazy. And I can't understand it, Mulder, because you're so damn conscientious about everything else! So today, YOU will be doing the drudgery. Meanwhile, I," she said, standing up, "I, am going to go up and make an ass out of myself in front of the Deputy Director by trying to convince him of the validity of the Oongaboonga sightings in Rock Creek Park. Have a nice morning."
Mulder attempted to pick his chin up off the floor as she left the office. Doggett got up and clopped after her, catching her by the arm halfway down the hall.
"Agent Scully, you're supposed to take over the other person's position, not their *personality*," he hissed, scolding her.
She smiled slightly at him and patted his face. "Don't ruin my fun, John."
She walked away, and left him standing there. Blinking, he turned back and walked into the office. He understood. She was making Mulder squirm, because she had to. Just once.
He clopped back through the door just in time to bump into Reyes. She excused herself.
"Sorry guys, gotta use the ladies' room. I'll be back in a second."
And she took off, leaving the two men alone together. Doggett smirked at Mulder, then sat down to work again. Mulder glared at him.
"What?!" he finally asked, angry.
"Whpssh!" said Doggett, complete with cracking gesture, and he began to laugh at Mulder's situation.
The sound was kind of wheezy and high-pitched, and Mulder raised an annoyed eyebrow, the way Scully did all the time. He snorted in derision.
"Jeez, man. Now I know why I've never heard you laugh. You sound like a horse with pneumonia."
"Hmph. Says you," Doggett said, calming slightly.
"Damn straight, says me!" Mulder answered, tossing a pencil into the ceiling. "This work blows. I wish we had something interesting to do."
Perhaps it was fate, pulling its invisible strings. Perhaps it was dumb luck. But at that instant, the phone on Doggett's desk rang. He picked up.
"X-files Division. Doggett speaking. . . . Really. . . . Yeah, okay. . . . Uh, yes, ma'am. Mulder and I will be there in a few minutes. . . . Sure thing."
He hung up, turning to Mulder.
"That was Holly, or A.D. Baker, as she's called today. She's got an assignment for us."
"Holly has an assignment for us. Holly is doing Skinner's job? . . . Little Holly?" Mulder asked, measuring a short height above the floor.
"Yep," Doggett said, standing up. "But I wouldn't call her little, if I were you."
"No, I won't. It's just . . . wow. I hope she's up to it," Mulder replied. "Let's go."
***
The elevator dinged on the fourth floor and the two men stepped out. Almost immediately, the yelling and the catcalls started. Mulder put on his warrior face and charged ahead. Doggett stared straight ahead of him and gallantly resisted the urge to flip everybody off. They both scooted into Skinner's outer office and found the man himself seated in Holly's usual spot. The desk was a mess. *Skinner* was a mess. He was working like mad, holding a pencil in his mouth, hunting and pecking on the keyboard. (His typing skills were terrible.) Finally he looked up to see the two agents, who seemed slightly amused.
"What?" he asked around the pencil.
"Sorry sir," Doggett said. "We're here to see the A.D. for a Day."
He took the pencil and began to scribble a number on an expense report, hardly looking up.
"For the next . . ." he glanced at the clock. "Seven hours, eighteen minutes and thirty four seconds . . . it's Walter," he said. "And go right on in. She's expecting you."
Mulder and Doggett looked at each other, shrugged, and walked in.
***
"Close the door, Agents."
Doggett shut it. They walked over to the two chairs across from Skinner's desk, where Holly was organizing some papers.
"Please, sit," she said, gesturing to the chairs, her sleeves flapping.
They both sat. Holly looked down at the desktop immediately, blushing like crazy.
"And for Pete's sake, cross your legs."
They both yelped a bit in surprise and did so, fussing with their clothing, and settled their hands in their laps. Mulder gave her an embarrassed smile. She stood up and made her way around the desk. The two agents, already amused by her clothes, did their damndest not to laugh. She was waddling because everything was so huge on her, and the black and white of the suit made her look remarkably like a penguin. She stopped and leaned back against the desk, crossing her arms.
"I have an assignment for the two of you. I'm afraid it's very dangerous, but quite rewarding."
They were all ears.
"A report just came to me from the Deputy Director's office that Alvin Kersh, a man we all know and detest, has come to work in . . . improper attire."
"Like what, a g-string?" Doggett asked.
"Oh, yech. Thanks for the image," Mulder mumbled.
"No, Agent Doggett," Holly cut in. "Nothing that revealing. Deputy Director Kersch arrived this morning . . . in a muumuu."
The two men looked at each other and smirked. Then they turned back to her.
"A'right, so what do you want us to do?" Doggett asked.
"I would like you two to document it."
"You mean, take a picture?" Mulder suggested.
"Not exactly," Holly said, and waddled back behind the desk.
She came back around with a silvery box, that turned out to be a digital video camera, one of the latest models out on the market. Both men were fascinated by the technology. She handed it to Doggett. "Shiny" seemed to be his only awed comment, and he passed to Mulder, who managed to say, "Sweeeeet." They both looked back at her.
"Your assignment, gentlemen, is to get at least two minutes of usable footage of Alvin Kersh in a muumuu."
Mulder raised his eyebrows, interested. Doggett, who hated Kersh with a passion, let his face curl up into a feral grin.
"Now, I realize that just getting to humiliate the Deputy Director and play with that video camera is fun. But make no mistake --- this is a dangerous assignment. If Kersh catches you before you can escape, he could disband your department, among other things."
The men sobered at this, but continued to listen intently.
"So," she continued, "I'm going to add a little extra incentive. Once the tape is made, several copies will be circulated among the secretaries to boost morale, and another copy will be sent to the X-files office. For your own personal records, of course. And, should you be successful in your endeavor, you two will be allowed to use *this* for the entire evening tonight."
With that, she waddled over to the shelves next to Skinner's desk and pulled out a black box. She blew the dust off it and opened it, revealing to Mulder and Doggett something that was every FBI agent's Holy Grail --- the Bureau credit card.
"Whoa," Mulder said. "May --- May I touch it?"
Holly closed the box. "Not yet. First, I'll need you two to make that tape. And secondly, I need your solemn promise that whatever you do with the credit card tonight, you will take Agents Scully and Reyes along."
"Of course! / You have our word," they said together.
They would never have done otherwise, but it was nice to know that Holly was thinking of the women, too. They stood up, Doggett holding the video camera as if it was made of glass. Mulder reached forward and enthusiastically shook Holly's sleeve.
"We won't fail you, ma'am. We promise. Right, Doggett?"
"Right. C'mon. Let's go. We gotta figure out how to work this thing," said the other man, gesturing at the video camera and making for the door.
***
Scully had not gone to humiliate Mulder. She'd actually left to get some Skittles from the vending machine on the third floor. Then she decided to use the bathroom on the fourth, the nicest one in the building. She dawdled on her way, hoping to make Mulder squirm as long as possible. The first thing she noticed was a stoic security guard standing between the doors of the men's restroom and the women's. She smiled at the guard and tried to open the door to the women's restroom when there was a large, powerful hand on her shoulder. Uncertain and wide-eyed, she stepped back and turned her head.
The guard was staring at her.
"Is there a problem?" she asked politely.
"There is absolutely a problem," the guard said. "No gentlemen allowed in the ladies' room."
"Wha --- I ---" She looked down at herself, in Mulder's suit, and realized what the guard meant. She softened. "Sir, come on. I'm not physically a man. I think you can see that."
"Sorry, Agent. Not today. You can just use the little boys' room."
Scully pouted a bit, like she was about to protest, but the guard stopped her with a sharp look. So, feeling totally humiliated, she let her shoulders droop and walked into the men's room next door, only to be greeted by a long line of similarly dressed, similarly depressed, women. She got in line right behind Reyes, who was looking really uncomfortable.
"Hey, Dana," she said, and squirmed.
"Hey, Monica."
She looked around Reyes and into the bathroom beyond. The urinals were devoid of people. There seemed to be a bank of stalls, but she couldn't tell what was holding up the line.
"You been in here long?" she asked Reyes.
"Mm hm." More squirming.
Dana Scully had been raised not to put up with bullshit, and her friend clearly needed access to a toilet. "Hey! What's the hold-up?!" she yelled.
Someone near the front answered, "There's only one stall working!"
"Oh, great," Scully muttered.
The whole place smelled vaguely of sweat and urine, and Reyes was practically dancing up and down, she had to go so bad. Finally she stopped hopping.
"This is ridiculous! I've been waiting fifteen minutes, and my bladder's going to explode!" she yelled, and jumped out of line. "Nobody look, all right?"
The other women watched, astonished, as she approached one of the urinals. A few gasped, and they all turned their heads away in disgust as Reyes dropped Doggett's pants. His shirt fell to the middle of her thighs, hiding everything underneath, so she took the opportunity to wiggle her underwear down to her knees and position herself over the urinal, with one leg on each side.
She let fly, sighing in relief. Scully had just a few seconds to be proud of her when another brave soul joined her at the urinals, and then another, and another. Pretty soon, all the women were taking care of business, without looking at each other. With enough of their brains *not* occupied with "gotta pee gotta pee gotta pee," they all finally noticed the radio playing. It was WHIP, the local Country-Western station.
WHIP was a joke in the Bureau. Everybody hated it --- the "my girl done left me" and "let's get hosed" numbers got on everybody's nerves, and the squeaky clean love ballads and Jesus stuff made most of the hard-bitten females of the FBI want to puke.
Needless to say, no one had given it a second thought, or a second chance, until a hard and fast twangy guitar intro kicked in. Reyes apparently had some experience with this station. As everyone was cleaning up, she recognized the intro and yelled . . .
"Oh my God! IT'S GARTH! Yeah, baby!"
Everyone started to clean up at the sinks and snicker. Leave it to "Moronica" to listen to WHIP. Scully was wondering who in the hell had exposed the poor woman to this, but soon found herself caught up in Garth Brooks' famous patter song, "Ain't Goin' Down Till the Sun Comes Up." She began to dance around with the other women and laugh as Monica sang along with Garth's furious pace . . .
"Six o'clock on Friday evening,
Mama doesn't know she's leaving,
Till she hears the screen door slamming,
Rubber squealing, gears are jamming.
Local country station just a-blarin' on the radio,
Pick him up at seven and they're headin' to the rodeo.
Momma's on the front porch, screamin' out her warning,
Girl, you better get your red head back in bed before the morning!"
The chorus stayed with Scully long after she'd left the bathroom.
"Ain't goin' down 'till the sun comes up,
Ain't givin' in 'till they get enough.
Goin' round the world in a pick-up truuuuuuck,
Ain't goin' down 'till the sun comes up!"
Arm in arm with Reyes, they laughed their way down the hall and back to the basement office, Scully gently prodding her all the way to find out who exactly had exposed her to WHIP.
Reyes just smiled, but said nothing.
***
Who addicted Monica Reyes to Garth Brooks? And what will happen with Kersh and the muumuu? Find out in Chapter 4: "Nobody's Bitch." Coming Soon!
Chapter Three: "The Cow Says Muumuu."
Skinner had actually been coping pretty well since he'd arrived that morning. Most of the Suits he'd met as he walked down the halls hadn't said a word, given his position of A.D. It also helped that while he didn't put up with any bullshit, he didn't give any, either. There was near-silence as he clopped down the halls in his heels towards his office, dressed very well in his tasteful outfit. A few people who remembered their manners nodded their heads politely. Then, of course, as soon as he was out of range, the whispering started.
"How the hell did he get his hands on that outfit?"
"He actually looks GOOD. Who helped him?"
"His wife?"
"Nah. She's out of town. Kimberly?"
"Please. She can barely stand him."
"Then who?"
"Who cares? I wanna see that tight butt of his again!" came the last voice, a bit too loudly.
Skinner turned around and glared at the pack of Suits in the hallway. He'd heard that. He was a proud ex-Marine, a man with a good job who was serving his country well, and for the second time, at that. He had his pride. But telling them to shove it, at least today, was out of the question. So, he gave them what they wanted. He turned around and walked away, letting his hips sway as much as he could without falling over.
The pack set up a cheer, and he felt ridiculously pleased at that. He had power. He had good looks. And now, he had a nice ass --- something else to put on his resume. This was going to be interesting.
He approached his office and, out of habit, opened the inner door. Everything seemed normal, except for his desk chair, which had its back to him. Skinner eyed it suspiciously, and then cleared his throat. There was a rustling. The chair turned around to reveal Holly.
"Walter! You look great!" she said pleasantly.
Skinner opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. *Walter?* Nobody called him by his first name. Well, maybe Scully, once, but she was sort of high on adrenaline because Mulder had been drowning in the Bermuda Triangle at the time. Finally the gears in his head creaked and he formed a word.
"Th-Thanks."
Holly smiled gently and stood up, tugging at her pants. Skinner was embarrassed. His suit was enormous on her. The neck of the shirt and its tie were very loose, her hands were buried in the sleeves, and she was ready to trip on the pant legs.
"Ready to get to work?" she asked cheerfully.
"Uh, sure," he said, as they both walked out into the 'outer hull,' where Holly's desk was.
Skinner set down his stuff and Holly turned on the desk's computer.
"Okay. You're a good boss, so I won't work you too hard today," she said, and winked. "First thing I need you to do is get started sorting and coding these expense reports."
She pointed at a huge pile of paper in one corner of her desk, and Skinner looked mildly alarmed. She saw the fear in his eyes.
"Walter, don't worry. It's easy. I'll show you."
"Excuse me. Before this goes any further, Holly, I would appreciate 'sir' today. Not Walter. It's just a bit strange, to hear that coming from you."
Holly looked down for a moment. "I'm sorry, but rules are rules. All secretaries are to be addressed by their first name. And you, unfortunately, will have to address me as A.D. Baker, or ma'am."
"Rules?" Skinner asked, puzzled. "What rules?"
Holly sighed. She gently led him outside to one of the myriad "Rules" posters all over the place. It was a laundry list of rules and regulations, all governing this one day.
"Number 14. Right there."
He read it in astonishment. She was right, and clearly not very happy about it, but determined to walk the straight and narrow on this one. He shrugged his shoulders and they walked back in.
"Walter it is, then," he said. "What do I do?"
***
The same thing was happening up on the fifth floor, although it was a lot less friendly. The first thing Kersh did when he saw Rhonda, in her hideous suit, sitting in his chair, was start yelling. He was *very* surprised when Rhonda started yelling back. She ordered him into the outer office, to get started typing up some depositions, and on top of that, insisted he remove his raincoat. He complied.
And she saw what he'd come to work in.
She didn't know whether to be appalled or amused. Her face white with shock, she murmured at him to 'get busy' and then retreated into her temporary office, shutting the door behind her. She had to tell somebody about this. However, the conversation from the day before was ringing in her ears.
*You are my temporary secretary.*
*You're not getting high marks from me right now.*
*If you screw anything up tomorrow . . . God help you.*
She stared at the phone on the desk, knitted her eyebrows, and made her decision.
"Oh, the hell with it. If I'm going to get fired, then I'll just go out in a blaze of glory."
She picked up the receiver and dialed. A minute later, a smile blossomed on her face.
"Holly? Rhonda. Big news."
***
The women were stretching in the X-files office. The men were adjusting themselves. They'd all settled in for a morning of paperwork and avoiding the rest of the planet, but so far, mostly there was uncomfortable silence and very little typing. Scully and Reyes were bored stiff with their partners' paperwork. And between the demonic possession stuff and the medical jargon in their partners' files, Doggett and Mulder were totally lost.
"Hey, uh, Scully?" Mulder asked.
"Hm?" she said.
"Could you, by any chance, help me with this paperwork? There are some questions that I just can't answer, because they're asking for your medical opinion and well, I'm not you."
Scully had been buried in her partner's paperwork all morning. She was pissed, the UFO tie was itching her collar, and she was not interested in being lured into doing work for Mulder, who she was now convinced was a total lazy-ass. She swiveled around in his chair and glared at him. Doggett and Reyes were watching, nervously. This was it.
"No. I can't help you," she said finally. "You know why?"
Mulder was looking frightened. "Uh, no."
"Because I *always* have to do the paperwork. Because you're lazy. And I can't understand it, Mulder, because you're so damn conscientious about everything else! So today, YOU will be doing the drudgery. Meanwhile, I," she said, standing up, "I, am going to go up and make an ass out of myself in front of the Deputy Director by trying to convince him of the validity of the Oongaboonga sightings in Rock Creek Park. Have a nice morning."
Mulder attempted to pick his chin up off the floor as she left the office. Doggett got up and clopped after her, catching her by the arm halfway down the hall.
"Agent Scully, you're supposed to take over the other person's position, not their *personality*," he hissed, scolding her.
She smiled slightly at him and patted his face. "Don't ruin my fun, John."
She walked away, and left him standing there. Blinking, he turned back and walked into the office. He understood. She was making Mulder squirm, because she had to. Just once.
He clopped back through the door just in time to bump into Reyes. She excused herself.
"Sorry guys, gotta use the ladies' room. I'll be back in a second."
And she took off, leaving the two men alone together. Doggett smirked at Mulder, then sat down to work again. Mulder glared at him.
"What?!" he finally asked, angry.
"Whpssh!" said Doggett, complete with cracking gesture, and he began to laugh at Mulder's situation.
The sound was kind of wheezy and high-pitched, and Mulder raised an annoyed eyebrow, the way Scully did all the time. He snorted in derision.
"Jeez, man. Now I know why I've never heard you laugh. You sound like a horse with pneumonia."
"Hmph. Says you," Doggett said, calming slightly.
"Damn straight, says me!" Mulder answered, tossing a pencil into the ceiling. "This work blows. I wish we had something interesting to do."
Perhaps it was fate, pulling its invisible strings. Perhaps it was dumb luck. But at that instant, the phone on Doggett's desk rang. He picked up.
"X-files Division. Doggett speaking. . . . Really. . . . Yeah, okay. . . . Uh, yes, ma'am. Mulder and I will be there in a few minutes. . . . Sure thing."
He hung up, turning to Mulder.
"That was Holly, or A.D. Baker, as she's called today. She's got an assignment for us."
"Holly has an assignment for us. Holly is doing Skinner's job? . . . Little Holly?" Mulder asked, measuring a short height above the floor.
"Yep," Doggett said, standing up. "But I wouldn't call her little, if I were you."
"No, I won't. It's just . . . wow. I hope she's up to it," Mulder replied. "Let's go."
***
The elevator dinged on the fourth floor and the two men stepped out. Almost immediately, the yelling and the catcalls started. Mulder put on his warrior face and charged ahead. Doggett stared straight ahead of him and gallantly resisted the urge to flip everybody off. They both scooted into Skinner's outer office and found the man himself seated in Holly's usual spot. The desk was a mess. *Skinner* was a mess. He was working like mad, holding a pencil in his mouth, hunting and pecking on the keyboard. (His typing skills were terrible.) Finally he looked up to see the two agents, who seemed slightly amused.
"What?" he asked around the pencil.
"Sorry sir," Doggett said. "We're here to see the A.D. for a Day."
He took the pencil and began to scribble a number on an expense report, hardly looking up.
"For the next . . ." he glanced at the clock. "Seven hours, eighteen minutes and thirty four seconds . . . it's Walter," he said. "And go right on in. She's expecting you."
Mulder and Doggett looked at each other, shrugged, and walked in.
***
"Close the door, Agents."
Doggett shut it. They walked over to the two chairs across from Skinner's desk, where Holly was organizing some papers.
"Please, sit," she said, gesturing to the chairs, her sleeves flapping.
They both sat. Holly looked down at the desktop immediately, blushing like crazy.
"And for Pete's sake, cross your legs."
They both yelped a bit in surprise and did so, fussing with their clothing, and settled their hands in their laps. Mulder gave her an embarrassed smile. She stood up and made her way around the desk. The two agents, already amused by her clothes, did their damndest not to laugh. She was waddling because everything was so huge on her, and the black and white of the suit made her look remarkably like a penguin. She stopped and leaned back against the desk, crossing her arms.
"I have an assignment for the two of you. I'm afraid it's very dangerous, but quite rewarding."
They were all ears.
"A report just came to me from the Deputy Director's office that Alvin Kersh, a man we all know and detest, has come to work in . . . improper attire."
"Like what, a g-string?" Doggett asked.
"Oh, yech. Thanks for the image," Mulder mumbled.
"No, Agent Doggett," Holly cut in. "Nothing that revealing. Deputy Director Kersch arrived this morning . . . in a muumuu."
The two men looked at each other and smirked. Then they turned back to her.
"A'right, so what do you want us to do?" Doggett asked.
"I would like you two to document it."
"You mean, take a picture?" Mulder suggested.
"Not exactly," Holly said, and waddled back behind the desk.
She came back around with a silvery box, that turned out to be a digital video camera, one of the latest models out on the market. Both men were fascinated by the technology. She handed it to Doggett. "Shiny" seemed to be his only awed comment, and he passed to Mulder, who managed to say, "Sweeeeet." They both looked back at her.
"Your assignment, gentlemen, is to get at least two minutes of usable footage of Alvin Kersh in a muumuu."
Mulder raised his eyebrows, interested. Doggett, who hated Kersh with a passion, let his face curl up into a feral grin.
"Now, I realize that just getting to humiliate the Deputy Director and play with that video camera is fun. But make no mistake --- this is a dangerous assignment. If Kersh catches you before you can escape, he could disband your department, among other things."
The men sobered at this, but continued to listen intently.
"So," she continued, "I'm going to add a little extra incentive. Once the tape is made, several copies will be circulated among the secretaries to boost morale, and another copy will be sent to the X-files office. For your own personal records, of course. And, should you be successful in your endeavor, you two will be allowed to use *this* for the entire evening tonight."
With that, she waddled over to the shelves next to Skinner's desk and pulled out a black box. She blew the dust off it and opened it, revealing to Mulder and Doggett something that was every FBI agent's Holy Grail --- the Bureau credit card.
"Whoa," Mulder said. "May --- May I touch it?"
Holly closed the box. "Not yet. First, I'll need you two to make that tape. And secondly, I need your solemn promise that whatever you do with the credit card tonight, you will take Agents Scully and Reyes along."
"Of course! / You have our word," they said together.
They would never have done otherwise, but it was nice to know that Holly was thinking of the women, too. They stood up, Doggett holding the video camera as if it was made of glass. Mulder reached forward and enthusiastically shook Holly's sleeve.
"We won't fail you, ma'am. We promise. Right, Doggett?"
"Right. C'mon. Let's go. We gotta figure out how to work this thing," said the other man, gesturing at the video camera and making for the door.
***
Scully had not gone to humiliate Mulder. She'd actually left to get some Skittles from the vending machine on the third floor. Then she decided to use the bathroom on the fourth, the nicest one in the building. She dawdled on her way, hoping to make Mulder squirm as long as possible. The first thing she noticed was a stoic security guard standing between the doors of the men's restroom and the women's. She smiled at the guard and tried to open the door to the women's restroom when there was a large, powerful hand on her shoulder. Uncertain and wide-eyed, she stepped back and turned her head.
The guard was staring at her.
"Is there a problem?" she asked politely.
"There is absolutely a problem," the guard said. "No gentlemen allowed in the ladies' room."
"Wha --- I ---" She looked down at herself, in Mulder's suit, and realized what the guard meant. She softened. "Sir, come on. I'm not physically a man. I think you can see that."
"Sorry, Agent. Not today. You can just use the little boys' room."
Scully pouted a bit, like she was about to protest, but the guard stopped her with a sharp look. So, feeling totally humiliated, she let her shoulders droop and walked into the men's room next door, only to be greeted by a long line of similarly dressed, similarly depressed, women. She got in line right behind Reyes, who was looking really uncomfortable.
"Hey, Dana," she said, and squirmed.
"Hey, Monica."
She looked around Reyes and into the bathroom beyond. The urinals were devoid of people. There seemed to be a bank of stalls, but she couldn't tell what was holding up the line.
"You been in here long?" she asked Reyes.
"Mm hm." More squirming.
Dana Scully had been raised not to put up with bullshit, and her friend clearly needed access to a toilet. "Hey! What's the hold-up?!" she yelled.
Someone near the front answered, "There's only one stall working!"
"Oh, great," Scully muttered.
The whole place smelled vaguely of sweat and urine, and Reyes was practically dancing up and down, she had to go so bad. Finally she stopped hopping.
"This is ridiculous! I've been waiting fifteen minutes, and my bladder's going to explode!" she yelled, and jumped out of line. "Nobody look, all right?"
The other women watched, astonished, as she approached one of the urinals. A few gasped, and they all turned their heads away in disgust as Reyes dropped Doggett's pants. His shirt fell to the middle of her thighs, hiding everything underneath, so she took the opportunity to wiggle her underwear down to her knees and position herself over the urinal, with one leg on each side.
She let fly, sighing in relief. Scully had just a few seconds to be proud of her when another brave soul joined her at the urinals, and then another, and another. Pretty soon, all the women were taking care of business, without looking at each other. With enough of their brains *not* occupied with "gotta pee gotta pee gotta pee," they all finally noticed the radio playing. It was WHIP, the local Country-Western station.
WHIP was a joke in the Bureau. Everybody hated it --- the "my girl done left me" and "let's get hosed" numbers got on everybody's nerves, and the squeaky clean love ballads and Jesus stuff made most of the hard-bitten females of the FBI want to puke.
Needless to say, no one had given it a second thought, or a second chance, until a hard and fast twangy guitar intro kicked in. Reyes apparently had some experience with this station. As everyone was cleaning up, she recognized the intro and yelled . . .
"Oh my God! IT'S GARTH! Yeah, baby!"
Everyone started to clean up at the sinks and snicker. Leave it to "Moronica" to listen to WHIP. Scully was wondering who in the hell had exposed the poor woman to this, but soon found herself caught up in Garth Brooks' famous patter song, "Ain't Goin' Down Till the Sun Comes Up." She began to dance around with the other women and laugh as Monica sang along with Garth's furious pace . . .
"Six o'clock on Friday evening,
Mama doesn't know she's leaving,
Till she hears the screen door slamming,
Rubber squealing, gears are jamming.
Local country station just a-blarin' on the radio,
Pick him up at seven and they're headin' to the rodeo.
Momma's on the front porch, screamin' out her warning,
Girl, you better get your red head back in bed before the morning!"
The chorus stayed with Scully long after she'd left the bathroom.
"Ain't goin' down 'till the sun comes up,
Ain't givin' in 'till they get enough.
Goin' round the world in a pick-up truuuuuuck,
Ain't goin' down 'till the sun comes up!"
Arm in arm with Reyes, they laughed their way down the hall and back to the basement office, Scully gently prodding her all the way to find out who exactly had exposed her to WHIP.
Reyes just smiled, but said nothing.
***
Who addicted Monica Reyes to Garth Brooks? And what will happen with Kersh and the muumuu? Find out in Chapter 4: "Nobody's Bitch." Coming Soon!
