Once the Fab 5 had left, Mulder stood in a daze in the middle of his living
room. He was soaking it all in, slowly. He mourned for all of this old
things for a moment, things that he never would have been able to bring
himself about to throw away. He mourned his porn once more, for the
upteenth time. He heaved a grief laden sigh... and got over it.
Then he smiled, a bright quirky smile and began to whistle a hearty tune. He had his apartment made over! And it hadn't cost a dime! It looked amazing too! He was impressed with the way things had come off. His anger towards Scully was beginning to slide away, and was being replaced with anticipation at seeing her. He wondered briefly what time it was. He glanced at the wall clock and realized that he had only two hours to go about getting everything perfect. He rubbed his hands together in the way in which a man who had a grand, master plan to set about employing... and went to work.
Though he was a pretty ignorant guy, he knew he shouldn't cook anything with clean clothes on. That being the case, he had his way to the kitchen and took the neccessary dinner ingredients out of the now-filled refrigerator. He was sure to aquaint himself with the kitchen before he began.
First, he began to prepared the mushroom. He worked slowly this time, so that he wouldn't injure himself again. After a torturous twenty-five minutes, he picked up the pan and made his way over to the oven (which Mulder had miraculously remembered to preheat), but on the way, he stumbled (as he caught his reflection in the clean linoleum floor) and three of the mushroom caps tumbled off and *splatted* directly on the image of his face.
After uttering a few choice obsenities, he shoved the pan into the over and set about cleaning the floor... but not before stepping in the mess... twice.
After he was all cleaned up, he took out the salmon and, again, slowly began to fillet the fish. Mulder completed cutting it, and marinaded and breaded the fish just as the mushrooms finished baking. Quite proud of himself, he took the appetizers out, but was in a quandry as to where to put them. At first he thought he might put them in the microwave, but remembered the hot plate that Ted showed him. He pulled it out and set the plate down. He resumed with the finishing touches on the fish and put that in the on the counter. He reached under the counter and pulled out his George Foreman grill... the one new contraption that he knew how to handle.
He placed the fillets down on the face and shut the top. He looked at the time, smiled once, and danced his way over to the refrigerator to begin making dessert. He found this surprisingly easy. Once everything had been mixed, and a minimal amount of batter selfishly ingested, he popped the non- stick-shiny-new cake pan into the oven.
Ten minutes later he realized that he hadn't turned down the oven and rushed to fix his mishap. All was well once his little slip up was caught.
Like a good boy he put all of his ingredients away and even washed the dishes he had dirtied. With a hip check he shut the door to his refrigerator and danced his way into the bathroom to get ready.
A moment later he danced back into the living room, did a twirl, turned on his radio and waltzed back into the bathroom.
He pulled off his pants, and knowing that he'd be on camera, he folded them haphazardly and placed them on the toilet. He thanked the underwear gods that he had put on a good pair of boxers that morning. He could still hear the music as he soaped himself with the Dove that Kyan had bought him. He did enjoy the scent, he couldn't lie to himself.
As he listened to the music and shampooed his hair, he hummed to himself. He felt quite happy, even if this was a completely random situation which he would have been pissed at had it happened to him at a different time and had he-
He swore when he got shampoo in his eyes. He washed it out.
After conditioning, he set up his facial products around him. He cleansed, slowly, remembering that his face was not indeed a carpet, as Kyan had mentioned that he thought... he thought. Next, he pulled out his razor and applied a bit of creme to his face. Slowly, so slowly, he shaved his cheeks, chin and neck. Amazingly, he came off without a nick.
He toweled off and made his way into the bedroom to dress. He searched through his closet and inhaled the fresh scent deeply. His closet hadn't smelled that was in... forever. He extracted a green cable knit sweater and a pair of chinos with a belt. He laid them on the bed and pulled out a new pair of boxer briefs.
He dressed and then admired himself in the mirror. Damn fine, he looked damn fine or so he though. Spiffy and new, he set the table handsomely for two. He put the wine in the wine bucket like he was supposed to, he even folded the napkins like he remembered his mother doing.
Back in the Fab Five loft the guys were impressed enough to overlook his mushroom mishap. Ted was particularly impressed that he remembered to breathe the wine.
As he heard the faint knock on his front door. He jogged to it, but stopped suddenly. He turned around, jogged to the bedroom... and put on his glasses.
Then he smiled, a bright quirky smile and began to whistle a hearty tune. He had his apartment made over! And it hadn't cost a dime! It looked amazing too! He was impressed with the way things had come off. His anger towards Scully was beginning to slide away, and was being replaced with anticipation at seeing her. He wondered briefly what time it was. He glanced at the wall clock and realized that he had only two hours to go about getting everything perfect. He rubbed his hands together in the way in which a man who had a grand, master plan to set about employing... and went to work.
Though he was a pretty ignorant guy, he knew he shouldn't cook anything with clean clothes on. That being the case, he had his way to the kitchen and took the neccessary dinner ingredients out of the now-filled refrigerator. He was sure to aquaint himself with the kitchen before he began.
First, he began to prepared the mushroom. He worked slowly this time, so that he wouldn't injure himself again. After a torturous twenty-five minutes, he picked up the pan and made his way over to the oven (which Mulder had miraculously remembered to preheat), but on the way, he stumbled (as he caught his reflection in the clean linoleum floor) and three of the mushroom caps tumbled off and *splatted* directly on the image of his face.
After uttering a few choice obsenities, he shoved the pan into the over and set about cleaning the floor... but not before stepping in the mess... twice.
After he was all cleaned up, he took out the salmon and, again, slowly began to fillet the fish. Mulder completed cutting it, and marinaded and breaded the fish just as the mushrooms finished baking. Quite proud of himself, he took the appetizers out, but was in a quandry as to where to put them. At first he thought he might put them in the microwave, but remembered the hot plate that Ted showed him. He pulled it out and set the plate down. He resumed with the finishing touches on the fish and put that in the on the counter. He reached under the counter and pulled out his George Foreman grill... the one new contraption that he knew how to handle.
He placed the fillets down on the face and shut the top. He looked at the time, smiled once, and danced his way over to the refrigerator to begin making dessert. He found this surprisingly easy. Once everything had been mixed, and a minimal amount of batter selfishly ingested, he popped the non- stick-shiny-new cake pan into the oven.
Ten minutes later he realized that he hadn't turned down the oven and rushed to fix his mishap. All was well once his little slip up was caught.
Like a good boy he put all of his ingredients away and even washed the dishes he had dirtied. With a hip check he shut the door to his refrigerator and danced his way into the bathroom to get ready.
A moment later he danced back into the living room, did a twirl, turned on his radio and waltzed back into the bathroom.
He pulled off his pants, and knowing that he'd be on camera, he folded them haphazardly and placed them on the toilet. He thanked the underwear gods that he had put on a good pair of boxers that morning. He could still hear the music as he soaped himself with the Dove that Kyan had bought him. He did enjoy the scent, he couldn't lie to himself.
As he listened to the music and shampooed his hair, he hummed to himself. He felt quite happy, even if this was a completely random situation which he would have been pissed at had it happened to him at a different time and had he-
He swore when he got shampoo in his eyes. He washed it out.
After conditioning, he set up his facial products around him. He cleansed, slowly, remembering that his face was not indeed a carpet, as Kyan had mentioned that he thought... he thought. Next, he pulled out his razor and applied a bit of creme to his face. Slowly, so slowly, he shaved his cheeks, chin and neck. Amazingly, he came off without a nick.
He toweled off and made his way into the bedroom to dress. He searched through his closet and inhaled the fresh scent deeply. His closet hadn't smelled that was in... forever. He extracted a green cable knit sweater and a pair of chinos with a belt. He laid them on the bed and pulled out a new pair of boxer briefs.
He dressed and then admired himself in the mirror. Damn fine, he looked damn fine or so he though. Spiffy and new, he set the table handsomely for two. He put the wine in the wine bucket like he was supposed to, he even folded the napkins like he remembered his mother doing.
Back in the Fab Five loft the guys were impressed enough to overlook his mushroom mishap. Ted was particularly impressed that he remembered to breathe the wine.
As he heard the faint knock on his front door. He jogged to it, but stopped suddenly. He turned around, jogged to the bedroom... and put on his glasses.