Author's Note: Hey, peeps! Thankee as usual for all of the amazingly kind reviews. Oh, just in case --- beef stroganoff, which is mentioned in this, is a robust, hearty dish. I've eaten it once in my life and it was very good. It's chunks of stringy beef in a thick brown sauce, usually served with vegetables. I think butter is involved. When it's made well, it's excellent. When it's not, well, it's not pretty. Here's Chapter Five! :D

***

Chapter Five: "Lord of the Rings."

At about noon, everything was done. Holly needed the triumphant heroes to sign wavers for the credit card and had asked them several questions about the video. They even watched it once on Skinner's television, together, to make sure it was viable. It was. She told them she'd have the copies circulating in less than a week, and shook both their hands very heartily. Then she'd handed them the card.

The guys, pleased at their success, were feeling about as fancy-free as possible in their confining skirts and jackets. In fact, their biggest worry at the moment was who was going to protect the credit card (with his life) and who was going to tell "the gals" the good news, because they figured they should split the duties halfway.

In the end, they flipped a coin. Doggett got the credit card. Mulder got announcing duty. But before they could go down to the basement, they both realized one thing: breakfast had finally caught up with them. They realized it at the same moment and gave each other a knowing look, then headed to the men's room on the fourth floor.

Mind you, they had no idea how they were actually going to USE the men's room the way they were dressed, but they went for the familiar door just the same. And a very large hand came down on Mulder's back. He turned around and blinked. It was the burly security guard, who was still at his post between the doors. He was looking very annoyed with Mulder.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he asked.

Mulder stared at him. "To use the restroom," he said, as though to a five- year-old.

"Oh, really! Well, that's lovely, *ma'am,* except you seem to be pointing at the wrong door. No women allowed in the men's room."

"We ARE men!"

"Sorry, honey, not today. Here, let me help you," he said, over Mulder's protests, and shoved him into the ladies' room.

Doggett just stared like an idiot. Finally, off the security guard's fierce look, he meekly followed Mulder into the women's room. He straightened up inside, rather surprised.

"Wow. Nice," was his first comment.

It was true. The ladies' room was tastefully decorated with an outer waiting room, complete with comfortable couches, and the inner portion was spotlessly clean and modern --- steel stalls, black and white tile flooring, and porcelain sinks. Classical music was playing from the speakers high above their heads. Mulder was wandering towards the stalls. He pushed open one door and stepped in, closing it behind him. Doggett followed him and pushed open another door.

"I don't know about you, but I'm not sittin' down," he said.

"No kidding," Mulder replied. "That would be totally unnatural." He heard the door open outside as somebody else came in.

Inside his stall, Doggett was whistling, preparing to do his business. It seemed to be a simple enough operation --- get the pantyhose down to a reasonable height (somewhere around the calf area), then yank his underwear down, hold his skirt up, and do what men had been doing in bushes for tens of thousands of years.

Unfortunately, he miscalculated the tension in the pantyhose. As soon as he pulled the hose down, the edges curled under, creating a snowball effect. The elastic waist zipped down his legs and snapped around his knees like a vice, yanking them unexpectedly together. And because he was basically on his toes in the heels, he lost his balance and pitched forward with a yelp, banging one arm on the side of the stall and reaching forward with the other.

By some luck, he just managed to grab the plunger and caught himself. Barely. His knees still hit the floor, albeit slowly, but his forward/downward momentum flushed the toilet. He ended up with his head in the basin, water splashing up into his face. On the plus side, the toilet water washed off the make-up.

"Doggett? Are you okay in there?"

"Yeah. Just perfect. Rackin'frackin'. . ." he was mumbling.

There was laughter from another stall. Doggett clumsily got up off the floor and angrily ripped a seat cover from the holder, water dripping off his face.

"If that was you, Mulder, so help me, I'll---"

"Wasn't me. I swear."

"Well then who was it?" Doggett asked, spreading the cover on the seat.

"God, you boys crack me up," came a familiar voice. "Especially you, Agent Doggett. Tryin' to be all manly in a dress. Just deal with it! Sit down, already."

Doggett was already seated. But Mulder recognized the voice.

"Bickerstaff?" he called.

"Yep," the burly agent said, and laughed. "You guys should hear the way they talk about the X-files in Accounting. Except for that kook Harrison, everyone calls your account 'the wasteland.'"

"Funny, Bickerstaff, I heard that's what they call your love-life," Doggett shot back.

Bickerstaff exploded. "Put a sock in it, beanpole!"

"Fat ass!"

"Doggett!" Mulder yelled.

"What?! Y'know, he can think whatever he wants about the department. He can snicker and laugh, as much as he likes, because I know we do good work and he's fulla bullshit," Doggett said, standing up, cleaning up, pulling up his unmentionables, and flushing the toilet. A few seconds later he was smacking open the door and leaving the stall. "But it's not my fault he's eaten one too many official FBI donuts."

"Oh yeah, you bastard?!" Bickerstaff hollered, coming out of his stall. "Well, it's not my fault Spooky's taken one too many hits off the official FBI crackpipe, but you don't see ME yelling about it!"

"SHUT UP! Both of you!" Mulder yelled, barreling out of his own stall.

The two combatants stood there, seething, but watching him.

"I've never been so disgusted in my life. What the hell is the matter with you two? You're grown men. You barely know each other. Doggett, you sit on your hands for a second. And as for you, Bickerstaff, Agent Doggett has never done anything to you, so as far as I can tell, you're the instigator here. Why cause a fist fight in the ladies' room? . . . You're angry? Is that it? You want to blame somebody, anybody, for the fact that you look like shit in that elastic dress?"

"Hey!"

"Well, what do you want? "Miss America"? You're not a woman, and you're not a supermodel. And we weren't laughing. You laughed first! At my associate's misfortune, I might add."

"Yeah!" Doggett threw in.

"So you have to apologize," Mulder concluded, crossing his arms and posturing.

Bickerstaff opened and closed his mouth a few times, but it was a moment before anything came out. Apparently, he'd seen the error of his ways. He hung his head.

"You're right," he said, rather ashamed. "This is actually my second visit. I found out about the interesting properties of pantyhose just like Agent Doggett did when I came in the first time." He looked up at the two of them. "I'm --- I'm sorry."

He extended his hand. Doggett, a bit taken aback, shook it.

"S'okay," he said gruffly. "Just watch it. Stuff like that hurts. Us guys gotta stick together, ya know."

Bickerstaff nodded. The three of them headed over to the sinks to wash up.

***

Lunch was a disaster.

Everyone was asked to report to the cafeteria at 12:30, because it was correctly assumed that no one wanted to leave the building. There was one huge seating. The agents from the X-files division tromped along together. Doggett was listening, rather pleased, while Mulder began his announcement. He managed to quietly tell Scully and Reyes that they'd made a videotape of Kersh. But due to his slight proclivity towards "good storytelling" and the group's fast walking pace, he didn't get to finish. Before he could explain the outcome, the four of them were separated.

The men were ushered in through one set of doors and the women were herded through another. A large drapery went down through the middle of the cafeteria, dividing it in two. There was no food allowed outside the cafeteria, mostly to keep people from escaping and switching lunches. There weren't even any options for this meal. Three different dishes on each side were passed out, at random, to those seated there.

The women's side of the cafeteria was sulky and silent. Reyes wasn't really hungry yet, since she was used to eating a bit later in the day, and Scully just didn't like being in a throng of women. She'd gotten some cold looks around the building before, but now the glances and sniggers were more vicious, since everyone recognized Mulder's UFO tie. She kept trying to remember his kind words to her, kept trying to bury herself in the hope of having a nice evening with him at home, the rest of the FBI be damned, but it wasn't working very well.

The guys were just hungry. Doggett and Mulder were sitting at a table with Skinner, Bickerstaff, and some others, and Kersh was at a table on the other end of the cafeteria, so they didn't even see each other. That was the saving grace of the "meal."

The women shifted a bit and most of them recoiled in horror at what was being put on their plates. Scully looked around her part of the cafeteria. There was apparently nothing but grease, meat, fat, and worthless sugar as far as the eye could see. "Man food," basically. Not a vegetable in sight. She had been served a double cheeseburger from McDonald's a large order of French fries, and an extra-large Coke. Perhaps Mulder's garbage disposal of a stomach could have handled it, but she was definitely having reservations about her own. Reyes was looking at a very unappetizing serving of beef stroganoff and a big cup of Sprite. She was poking the stroganoff with her fork and making a face.

The men were equally unhappy with their food. Doggett looked at the small bowl of salad in front of him, hoping that by blinking very hard, he could make it go away. It wasn't working.

"Goddammit. What do they think we are, rabbits? I'm not eatin' this crap."

That resolve lasted about four seconds, because he was so hungry that he began to pour salad dressing on it, in the hopes that it would make it go down easier. Mulder stared at his meal forlornly. It was a small cup of fat-free plain yogurt, a plastic container full of fruit and Grape Nuts, and a small glass of orange juice. He actually whimpered. Skinner had lucked out. He'd come away with a turkey sandwich, which he wasted no time eating. Mulder was eyeing it. Skinner eyed him back, chewing.

"Fightcha for it," Mulder said.

"Hell no," Skinner said, through a mouthful of food. It came out like "How no."

Back on the women's side, trouble was brewing. Adams, a chunky, surly agent in Accounting, had never liked Scully. She'd always been irritated at Mulder's friendship with her. So that morning, she'd followed the small woman in the hallways and made a point of staring at Mulder's tie around her neck, and was pleased with how riled up Scully got. At the moment, she was sitting a table away and licking her lips at Scully's meal.

Scully had never liked Adams. And the other woman's behavior today had been rude, to say the least. She narrowed her eyes defensively, gave Adams the mental bird, and took a big bite out of her cheeseburger. The grease ran down her chin, and she mopped it up with a napkin, disgusted with herself.

Later, she would be unable to decide between blaming herself and blaming genetics, because as a good scientist, she knew she had to take all evidence into account. After all, she reasoned, what happened wasn't entirely her fault. She hailed from good, tough, strong family. But her clan had a proud streak a mile wide --- it had caused some pretty phenomenal fights at the dinner table. No insults or rude looks were tolerated in her father's house.

And Adams kept staring and licking her chops. That did it. Scully glared at Adams, challenging her. Adams swelled with anger. Scully's response was her famous eyebrow raise, accompanied by a little grin.

She had decided, rather arrogantly, that she was going to teach Adams a lesson today: "Don't ogle what you can't have." So she smiled broadly, locked eyes with her adversary, and kept eating the uncomfortably large meal. Reyes stared in concern, as did some other women at her table, but Scully was very determined to make her point. She took bite after bite of the big, greasy burger, getting noticeably slower with each chomp. But she finished all of it. She even licked her fingers and watched in delight as Adams stared, with murder in her eyes. Then she washed it down with two- thirds of the Coke.

Big mistake.

Scully had been "low-fat/non-fat/no red meat/lots of vegetables" for so long that the mere sight of what she was eating was a turn-off. And now, all that meat and cheese and secret sauce was rolling around in her small stomach, in a soup of highly acidic soda. The effect on her petite, well- cared-for digestive system was immediate. Most of the cafeteria was watching, waiting something to happen.

They weren't disappointed. Scully blanched, stood up quickly, dashed towards the door, and began throwing up loudly in the trash can. The rest of the women looked disgusted.

Reyes, seeing her friend's reaction to the food, pushed hers away without touching it, ran over, and helped Scully hold her hair back, sighing a bit as the other woman retched. If anything had given her an appetite for Ding- Dongs today, it was that nasty-looking stroganoff.

And Adams, seeing her opponent down for the count, got up. She smugly walked over to Scully's place setting, and with one swipe, grabbed the French fries.

Somebody else took the Coke.

Holly and Rhonda, at a corner table, were the only ones to shout to Reyes, "Is Agent Scully all right?"

All they got was a strained smile and curt nod as the taller woman hustled the shorter one out of the cafeteria. Just in time --- Scully leaned over and retched in another trash can in the hallway.

***

The meal was over in twenty minutes.

Scully was very much the center of attention on the way back to the office. The men, grumbling and unsatisfied, had left the cafeteria not a minute later than the women and met them in the hallway. Reyes was looking ravenous --- Doggett stopped at a nearby vending machine and got her some Ding Dongs --- and Scully was looking white about the face. She spent the trip down to the basement leaning heavily on Mulder and moaning quietly, while Reyes told them what happened, opening up her package of food.

"Agent Adams can screw herself," Scully whimpered, holding her belly. "I'm never doing that again."

Mulder, in response, just pulled her close. His arm was so long on her that he got his hand over hers on her stomach. She smiled at him slightly. Doggett, not knowing Agent Adams from a hole in the ground, looked at Reyes for an explanation.

"Wruck," ("What,") she asked flatly, through a mouthful of Ding-Dong.

He just snickered and wiped some cream off her chin. "Never mind."

When they reached the basement, the men helped Scully into her desk chair. Doggett rolled a spare over so she could put her feet up. She did, and smiled her thanks at both of them, but they were still concerned. Mulder even took out a gray emergency blanket from the supply closet and spread it over her, just to do something.

Any thought of telling the women about the credit card had flitted clear out of their heads.

***

At 1:10, the computer lab called the X-files office to report that they had print-outs ready. It was data for a recent case, and necessary for the paperwork. But since Scully still wasn't feeling very well from lunch and Reyes was unwilling to go out in the halls without a buddy, that left the two guys to go pick them up.

So, Mulder and Doggett, grumpy because they hadn't gotten enough to eat, and annoyed at having to walk through the halls, again, made their way past gaggles of hecklers to the computer lab. They were expecting to find some really ugly women with glasses and some very beautiful men. They were assured, however, of getting the print-outs fast and getting gone, because Mulder knew the lab tech who would give them the papers.

"He's a nice Irish guy," Mulder said. "His name's Luke."

"Ah," Doggett said, his face blank.

They walked into the lab and were immediately struck by a gorgeous sight. A beautiful woman was sitting with her back to them, demurely seated in her chair, legs crossed, and typing quickly on her computer. Long blond hair trailed down the back of her jacket which matched her prim, knee-length skirt. Her amazingly high heels were deep navy, to match her suit.

"Whoa," Doggett muttered. "Somebody didn't get the memo."

"E-Excuse me, miss?" Mulder stammered. "We, uh, we need some help here."

The heavenly creature in the chair turned around, revealing a rather boyish- looking woman, who crossed her arms, pursed her lips momentarily, and responded in a bored baritone . . .

"Sure, Agent Mulder. What can I get for you?"

"Oh shit!" Mulder said before he could stop himself. "Luke?"

The shemale nodded.

"God, you poor bastard! What happened to you?"

"I was ambushed. The ladies in my lab threw me into this costume. I swear, it's the Pendrell Curse."

"Pendrell Curse?" Mulder asked. And then it dawned on him. "Your last name is Pendrell? As in Son of Pendrell?" he joked.

The man/woman laughed. "Cousin of Pendrell, actually."

Mulder introduced Doggett. Luke held out a hand and they shook.

"Everybody calls me Lucky," he said. "My family is very fond of irony."

"No kidding," Mulder said. "Oh, and please accept our very belated condolences for your cousin. We didn't know he had any family."

"Oh, that's all right. Pat always kept quiet about that at work. Thank you, though."

"Sure. So his name was Pat, huh? Scully and I never knew it."

"Well, it was really Patrick. Patrick Pendrell."

There was a pause.

"Ah. Well, I'll tell Scully that we've got another faithful Pendrell working for us."

Lucky gave them a small smile.

"And if it's any consolation, Lucky, you look damn good," Doggett offered.

He laughed mirthlessly. "I'm beyond caring how I look. These hose are the itchiest things on the planet, my feet are cramping from the heels, and now I'll miss the pick-up from Tiffany's!" He sighed, shaking his head. "Today is just one disaster after another."

"Tiffany's?" Doggett asked.

"It's *from* Tiffany's. I'm picking up a ring," he said.

"Really! For who?" Mulder teased.

Lucky blushed and grinned for a moment. "My girlfriend. She's so sweet, and smart, and pretty . . . I'd better stop, or I'll never shut up. We've been together for three years. I wanted to take her out to a nice restaurant tonight and propose, before I lost my nerve. Now it's hopeless," he finished, thoroughly depressed again.

"Oh, come on, now," Doggett said. "Nothing's hopeless. Why can't you just do what you're planning to do?"

Lucky snorted. "Hell-oo! A, I'm not leaving the building dressed as a girl. And B, if I get rejected . . . I don't even want to think about it."

He moaned softly and let his head hit the desk. Mulder and Doggett looked at each other. Clearly, this was an injustice of the worst nature. They had to do something to help.

"Where's the ring?" Doggett asked.

"It was shipped to Brilliant Jewelers at the Georgetown Plaza. I'm supposed to pick it up in half an hour. Why?"

"We'll go with you," he said, surprising Mulder. "That way you won't feel so stupid. Safety in numbers, man. C'mon."

Mulder was nodding, finding his nerve. "Yeah. I mean, we are agents, after all. If anybody annoys you, we'll just flash our badges or get out the Sigs, and they'll go away."

Lucky was stunned. "Y-You guys would do that for me?" he asked quietly.

"Of course," Doggett said. He looked very serious.

The tech grinned at them both. "You two are awesome. Just hang on a minute --- let me get my purse, and we'll be on our way."

They watched him as he gingerly got down off the chair, balanced precariously on his heels, and wobbled off to fetch his handbag. Mulder looked at Doggett.

"You do realize that we just agreed to spend our lunch hour in public, dressed as women."

"Yep."

There was a pause as they waited for Lucky to come back. Mulder was starting to fidget.

"Why are we doing this, again?"

"Because something has to work out right for somebody today. And if we can make it happen, then we should."

Mulder blinked a couple of times, but that explanation seemed to worked for him. He began to dig through the purse on his arm, impressed by Doggett's sense of duty to other people. He realized this was probably what Scully had come to respect about the man, even before she'd grown to like him. Finally, he found his prize and the plastic package crinkled in his hand.

Popping some sunflower seeds in his mouth he remarked, "I guess we'll just come back for the print-outs later."

"Yeah. We've got more important things to do," Doggett said. "Hey, can I have some of those?"

***

Mulder started humming the "Mission: Impossible" theme as he, Doggett, and Lucky sneaked out into the foyer of Headquarters. It seemed deserted. They were hoping to get out the door, through the parking garage, into Mulder's car, and to the mall without being spotted by too many people. Fat chance, of course, but blind hope kept them going.

Security was changing shifts right now, so there was no one at the door. That would change soon, though. Despite the humiliation factor that was keeping people from leaving the building, they had to be ready in case someone came in.

"Okay," Mulder hissed. "On three, we run for it. Ready? . . . One! Two! Three!"

They all took off at a dead run for the door, their jackets billowing out behind them. The heels were hindering them all, but they kept barreling along, their goal in sight. Then the unthinkable happened.

Doggett tripped on the carpet.

"Whoooaaa!"

*CRASH*

He went down like a pine tree, flat on his face, and the fall made his skirt flap and hitch up clear to his butt. The noise was enough to wake the dead, and the security guards came stomping down the hall, hurrying to change shift and see what was going on. Lucky was at the door, just behind Mulder.

The taller man shoved him through the doors and yelled, "Run! Save yourself! We'll catch up!"

Lucky ran. Doggett was struggling to get up. And Mulder made a noble sacrifice. He ran back from his position at the door, grabbed the other man by the shoulders and helped him up. They both made it out the door, Mulder running and Doggett hobbling, and zipped away, just as the first security guard entered the room.

They trotted into the parking garage to Mulder's Taurus, which Pendrell was leaning on.

"Oh thank God," he said, spotting the two of them and coming forward. "Are you two all right? You weren't seen, were you?"

Doggett was limping a bit and looking slightly pasty. He was leaning heavily on Mulder.

"No, we weren't seen. But Doggett did something to his knee," Mulder said.

"Aw hell, man, I just scraped it. Don't fuss over me. Let's get outta here and get that ring."

***

Compared to their great escape, the mall was a piece of cake. All three escapees, still hungry from "lunch," picked up sandwiches and soft drinks from the food court, and quickly devoured them. There was a lot of staring and laughing, and when Doggett and Mulder flashed their badges it just got worse, but in due time, they made it to the jeweler's. Lucky wrote his first check of many for the ring. He showed the diamond to his companions, who whistled in approval, and had the lady at the desk put it in a velvet box with a silk interior.

Mulder explained to her what was going on at Headquarters. She complimented them all on their tasteful clothes, gave Doggett a band-aid for his knee (he'd skinned it a bit when he fell) and made sure Lucky carried his prize off in a complimentary gift bag.

***

They were all just terribly pleased with themselves by the time they arrived back at Headquarters, so much so that they ignored the irritated looks security gave them.

"Where the hell did you three go?" a female security guard asked.

"To the mall," Mulder replied with a smile, and she blanched.

"You people are idiots," she said.

"No, we're not. We were on a mission. Besides, I would hardly categorize us as the idiots in this equation, given that you thought that mere humiliation could keep us from leaving the building. We took off and did what we had to because we HAVE. NO. SHAME," he said, sticking his face in hers defiantly. "So, HA!"

Mulder stuck his chest out and walked away. Lucky linked arms with him on one side, Doggett took the other, and they all skipped, *skipped,* past security and into the offices, leaving all the first guard to stare at them angrily, and the others to fall over on their asses laughing.

***

So. Lucky's got the ring. But will he get the girl? Will the men ever manage to tell the women about the credit card? Or remember to pick up the print-outs? How will Scully and Reyes cope with the increasing stress of being male for a day? Find out in Chapter Six: "Deh Man Ah Love."