Balls! By Piper Sargasso

Disclaimer: These are all mine. The real
characters would never be so stoopid!

Author's Note: This bit of idiocy is for the
Metaphor Challenge at Beyond the Sea. It's my
first (intentional) badfic.

Spot the fanfic cliches!


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Mulder looked at Scully sitting across the room
from him. A radio played in the background. It
played Sarah McLachlan's song, "Sweet
Surrender."


"You take me in
no questions asked
you strip away the ugliness
that surrounds me
are you an angel
am I already that gone
I only hope
that I won't disappoint you
when I'm down here
on my knees"

"Oh my God!" he thought, "That's just like us!"
But then he remembered that there's no way
Scully could love a loser like him because all he
could ever think about was Samantha and his
Quest for the Truth. That, and all he ever
watched was porn and he knew she could hear it
through the thin motel walls. How many times
had he wished she would come to him through
the adjoining door? He always left it unlocked,
just in case.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and
breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer
without Cling Free.

"Mulder," Scully said, breaking his reverie.
"Look at this invitation that conveniently
surfaced on my normally immaculate desk! It's
the Annual FBI Charity Ball!"

Suddenly, the phone rang. "Scully."

She listened while Mulder spit sunflower seeds
husks all over the floor. He even blew one all the
way over to land on Scully's desk. She gave him
The Eyebrow and went back to her conversation.

"Hmm, hmm. I see. Yes, Sir." Sighing, she
returned the phone to the cradle. "Mulder, that
was AD Skinner. He said we have to go to the
ball or it's our jobs. I never realized how
expendable two highly intelligent agents with a
high solve rate and a knack for uncovering
government conspiracies can be!"

And what will I wear?

Mulder looked at her. Dare he ask her? There
was really no one else and he was so afraid to go
by himself or ask another woman because he was
a social pariah and he still had no idea how he
got along all those years before Scully came
along.

He never wanted to trust her like he trusted the
endless parade of informants that lied to him
repeatedly. He never wanted to fall in love with
her like he did with Diana that hot, steamy night
in Switzerland with two blonde twins, Heidi and
Gretchen, and a bottle of Absinthe. But she grew
on him. Grew on him like she was a colony of E.
coli and he was a room temperature Canadian
beef.

He suddenly got courage all over the place. It
was like Jack in "Titanic", his favorite movie.
When he saved Rose. He smiled, remembering
that scene. Oh, Scully. My heart can't go on
without you.

"Scully?" his eyes grew dark and intense. "You
are my one in five billion. Please go with me."

She thought about this, then gave a deep, throaty,
genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just
before it throws up. "Of course I'll go with you,
Mulder. Everyone knows I can't get a date for
myself! And who cares about the whole "inter-
office dating" thing? I'm sure no one will notice
two infamous agents grinding on the dance floor
together."

Since there was only four hours until this Ball
began, and everyone else at the Hoover Building
apparently had their gowns and tuxes in their
desk drawers (and therefore had no need to leave
early to get ready), Scully left early to buy a
dress.

She found a boutique with the perfect dress right
away. She didn't have to worry about the price
or the fit, because it was all perfect. It was in the
window, so she asked the sales lady to take it
down. When she came out of the dressing room,
the sales lady cried.

"Oh! You look so beautiful! That green, off the
shoulder cut with bosom-heaving bodice is
perfect for you! Is there someone special you're
going with?" She winked like a woman with an
eyelash in her eye that won't come out no matter
how many times she blinks.

Scully blushed and went home to change.

Later --

Mulder knocked on her door. When she opened
it, he was blinded by her beauty. He fell for her
like his heart was a mob informant and she was
the East River. She was mesmerizing in her
green dress and he could see the color of her
flaming red hair for the very first time. Her
beauty cured his red/green colorblindness!
Maybe it was an X-File.

She saw the hungry look in his hazel eyes, the
kind you get from not eating for a while. She
decided to hurry up and leave before she had any
unpartner-ly thoughts about ravaging him on her
floor.

They pulled up in front of the hotel. The valet
hobbled to them and took the keys. Mulder
slipped him a $1 bill. "Keep the change, Buddy."

The man smiled in gratitude. He really was as
lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical duck,
either, but a real duck that was actually lame.
Maybe from stepping on a land mine or
something.

When they went inside, everyone stared at them.
"C'mon, Mulder. Let's forget about these people,
consume large amounts of alcohol and end up
forgetting ourselves. We'll show them!"

She spun away from him, twirling like a
ballerina to the music. She rose gracefully en
pointe and extended one slender leg behind her,
like a dog at a fire hydrant. Mulder was turned
on by her flexibility.

Then they danced together. Remembering her
flexibility, he looked deeply into her eyes. Her
hair glistened in the light of the opulent
chandelier like nose hair after a sneeze.

She blinked at the intensity in his eyes and he
held her closer. The whole scene had an eerie,
surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in
another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m.
instead of 7:30. Shivers ran down her spine as
his hand made contact with her bare back.

Mulder realized he was deeply in love. When she
spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a
garbage truck backing up. He imagined her
carrying his baby, standing in front of their
house. They would live in a typical suburban
neighborhood with picket fences that resembled
Nancy Kerrigan's teeth. He wondered how she
felt about the PTA.

Suddenly, they heard Tom Colton's voice from
across the room.

"I'm telling you guys, that Dana Scully's as easy
as the TV Guide crossword puzzle!"

Mulder was mad. He was as mad as a
construction worker that lost his sandwich when
it fell from a skyscraper beam. He walked over
and punched Tom Colton, who was very rude to
him before in the Tooms case, right in his ugly
face.

Impressed by his manly display of testosterone-
induced fury, Scully hooked her arm into his.
"Let's go, Mulder. Will you take me home
now?"

When they got to the street, they stopped and
looked at the stars. "You know, Scully," Mulder
began. "I've loved you ever since you dropped
trou in my motel room all those years ago."

Overwhelmed with love, she answered with tears
in her eyes. "And I've loved you ever since I first
laid eyes on you. Oh, Mulder!"

They kissed, and it was like fireworks were
bursting all around. The earth tilted on its axis
and their heads felt like they were spinning like
Linda Blair's in the Exorcist. It was magical.

"C'mon, G-man," Scully said with a wink. "Take
me home."

It was the most magical of magical things he
ever could've hoped for.


~ The End ~



A/N: God help the future of America, but nearly all
of the metaphors represented in this fic were actual
ones used in high school papers. I am suitably
terrified.