Pattie's Pocketful of X-Fics

Mulder's Penance

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Rated: PG

Category: MT, MA, H.

Timeframe: Season 6.

Feedback: Let me know, good or constructive
criticism, patfiler2016@outlook.com



2360 HEGAL PLACE
ALEXANDRIA,VA
OUTDOORS
SUNDAY, 9:17 AM

There have been many things I have been subjected
to in my career which have left me near death, left
irrepairable wounds to my mind and soul, and even
caused me to question the humanity of my colleagues
and relatives. I have been shot at, drugged, beaten
and bound. The childhood trauma of my sister's
disappearance was only the first of many terrible things
to affect me so utterly deeply, fighteningly, and
depressingly, that I adopted the motto, "Trust No One".

In all my years as a profiler and defender of our rights
and freedoms, you could say I am ready for
institutionalization or a Purple Heart: it's a toss-up,
really.

I have been regressed by a controversial therapist, bound
and gagged, subjected to horrible experiments in Tunguska,
taken to the far corners of the Earth and even slugged by
someone who looked amazingly like my parter during a wild
ride in the Bermuda Triangle, transported to the past. Why
is it that right now, as I shampoo the carpet of my car for the
twentieth time, I feel I am truly in Hell itself?

I was sitting at my desk, reading a freshly completed report,
and being a good F.B.I Agent when the whole predicament
was about to unfold. Scully walked into the office in her crisp,
yet alluring navy pantsuit, smiling away. "Hey, Mulder."

"Hey yourself, Scully." My usual reply. Oh, I had forgotten
something, and I think that's one of the reasons I'm still
suffering. But be patient, I will get to that. "So, how was your
weekend?"

"The wedding went off without a hitch, and I survived the
reception without a date."

Yes, I was supposed to let her know whether I was going to
escort her to the wedding of one of her dearest friends from
college. Oops. "Oh, I forgot, Scully," I said in my most pained
voice, and slapped my head. "After I took Mark Kendel to the
penitentiary in Seattle, I was... supposed... I was supposed to
call and say I wasn't able to go. I'm so sorry, Scully."

She was staring at the wall behind me, then gave me a glare
that would have burned down the Chrysler Building. "At least
you could have called, Mulder. We always keep in touch, just
in case, remember? And you gave your word you were going
to let me know if you were going to show. Bill freaked when I
told him you were coming. When you DIDN'T show up, he
freaked again! It was embarrassing, Mulder!"

She sunk into her chair and checked for e-mail.

"Well, I know there's no excuse for that, and I did say I was
sorry. After that little excursion, I got home five hours after I
would have been there with you, and no one answered the
phone where you were staying, so I looked through... some old...
would you believe X-Files from the late 1950's?"

She looked up from the monitor. No, she frowned. Burned a
hole right through my head with those eyes of hers. This woman
can show you her fury without uttering a word. "Well, you have
a chance to make amends, Mulder!"

"Really, Scully! That's very gracious of you. Oh, wait. What do I
have to do?" I didn't dare finish my question with the words 'for
my punishment'.

"I've been asked to host a birthday party for my godson, and
his mother and father won't be there this time. His great aunt
is dying, and they want to be there for her in the hospital."

"That's... I'm sorry, Scully. So, how can I help?"

"I think this occasion calls for some reinforcements, and since
I have only you because my other friend and her husband are
honeymooning in the Bahamas, it would be of great help to me
if you could be there to help host the party."

"Sure. Beats ruining my shirt in bile, being injected with
experimental antivirals, having my memory erased and losing
my gun." She's still not smiling. That is not a good sign. She
deleted a few messages, muttering something unrepeatable
and barely audible about spam, and then the silence was broken.
"Can you really handle ten nine-year-old boys and girls, Mulder?
Because believe me, they can be a handful."

Well, I did have to think about that one. But hey, I learned about
kids that age in Developmental Psychology. Granted, it involved
very little practical work, but I did know something about kids that
age. "Yeah, I think I can handle it, Scully. My services are
available. When is this party?"

"Next Saturday afternoon. I'll pick you up and drive you there
myself. This time, our calendars are both clear,barring the
unexpected. So, don't read any weird tabloid articles your
buddies send you. You owe me big time, Mulder. Big time.
Especially since I have saved your life many times over."

"Yeah, you have. Many times over," I repeated softly, in my
most charming voice. Well, I needed the points. "For which I
am eternally grateful. Speaking of eternity, we have a meeting
with the bean counter in twenty minutes."

"Oh, joy."

"My sentiments exactly. So, that's why I have all the receipts
sorted by category this time. It'll be short and sweet."

The week passed without incident. We had some re-filing to
do, a crime stats meeting and the usual briefings. There was
nothing to stop us from going to the little guy's birthday party
except one thing: Scully's car had been broken into on the
Thursday night. I drove her in to the office Friday, and we headed
out to New Rochelle, New York. We were booked into a motel by
midnight, and nothing further happened to us except a good
night's sleep.

NEW ROCHELLE, NY
SATURDAY
11:49 AM

Scully and I arrived at the suburban house at noon to have lunch
with the family and help set things up for the party.

"Mulder, I'd like you to meet Jane Kirk and her husband Ken."

While I shook their hands, Jane Kirk smiled and said, "So I finally
get to meet this gorgeous hunk you've been working with... "

Scully's jaw dropped, then she promptly smiled awkwardly and
nodded. My face must have been some deep shade of red.

Well, I tried to break the ice. "So, where's the birthday boy?"

"Auntie Dana! Auntie Dana!" A brown-haired, blue-eyed little boy
ran up the sidewalk to greet us. I mean Scully.

"It's my birthday today!"

Scully knelt down and hugged the little boy. "It sure is! And
you're gonna be ten years old, Christopher!"

"You didn't forget, did you?"

"No, I didn't forget. I have the present in the car. Christopher,
I'd like you to say 'hi' to my F.B.I. partner, and friend, Mr. Mulder."

"You work for the F.B.I.? No kidding?"

"Yes, I do. Do you play basketball?" I had noticed the hoop over
the garage door, and was itching to play.

"Sure I do. But it's my birthday today and we haveta stay clean
till after lunch, and after everybody gets here. Right Mom?"

"Right, kiddo. So come in and let's eat. We've got a lot to do!"
Jane was quite delighted to see that Scully had brought me.

I wondered whether Scully had spoken about me, or if the
woman was just glad Scully brought a tall reinforcement.

To my dismay, the Kirks were vegetarians, so it was a light but
huge serving of spinach salad generously peppered with
chopped almonds. I could have gone for at least a glass of milk,
but passed on the offer when I found out it was soy for the boy.
Soy milk. Do people dip cookies in that?

By the time we had decorated the house with balloons,
streamers and a pinata, it was nearly time for the guests to
arrive, so Christopher's parents left for the hospital.

Christopher leaned over the back of the livingroom couch hoping
to see his first guests arrive.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Scully was checking to see if I
was ready to run, no doubt.

"I said I was and I am. I can do this, Scully. I'm an F.B.I. Agent."
Surely she wasn't serious.

Scully sighed and looked up at me with that doubt in her eyes.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you, Mulder, because there's
nowhere you can run now. "

The doorbell rang.

We allowed Christopher to greet his guests.

"Hey! It's Adam and Sandy from across the street! C'mon, I'll
show you the neat model plane I got already!" Up the stairs went
the three boys, and Scully and I were left to answer the door.

Three minutes later, the doorbell rang again, and Christopher
wasn't coming downstairs, so I answered the door. "Hi, c'mon in."

A little blonde girl peered all the way up and screamed, "It's
Herman Munster!"

Luckily for me, Scullly put her arm around the girl, whispered
something into her ear, and she giggled. The girls entered the
house and went into the playroom.

"What did you say to that kid, Scully?"

She tried to stifle a smirk, but lost the fight. "I told her you were
the Jolly Green Giant."

Okay. When we finally had all the guests downstairs at the
dining table, it was time to sing Happy Birthday and watch
Christopher open his presents.

"Wow! Cool! Pokemon Cards! Thanks, Greta!"

"I like you, Christopher," a shy brunette giggled.

Christopher ignored her declaration and opened his next gift.
The expression on his face pretty much said it all. "Spiderman
underpants," he said with a glum, sad face. "Thanks, Todd".

A sad, skinny, red-haired little boy whined. "It isn't MY fault. My
Mom did it."

Scully hugged that little boy. I kind of felt for him, too. "I'm sure
your Mom meant well," she said with a smile. "And I bet she
knows Christopher likes Spiderman."

"Yeah. But not on my BUM!" Christopher yelled.

Time for the Jolly Green Giant to step in. "Don't you think you're
a pretty lucky guy with all these friends and all the trouble they
went to to get you presents?" I asked him.

"I think Spiderman's the coolest!" A little guy at the far end of the
table shouted. "And he can be on my bum any day! He's there
already!" This brought down the house.

We were about to cut the cake after Christopher made his wish
and blew out all ten candles, but Todd, the proud provider of the
underpants, ran for the bathroom and puked.

Scully pulled me aside and asked me to see if the little guy was
okay. "Me? C'mon, Scully. Don't I get enough just watching you
slice and dice at work?"

"I need to get these kids their cake and ice cream. We need to
keep things going smoothly. I'm sure it's just the excitement."

*I can do this*, I told myself. So, I bravely went to the powder
room off of the kitchen to check on Todd. He was in a bad way.
I gave him a cloth and he washed his face. Then I gave him
a paper cupful of water and he rinsed his mouth.

"Thanks, Mr. Mulder. I feel hot all over."

"SCULLLLEEEE!"

Scully bounded into the bathroom. "Mulder, what on earth..."

She felt the boy's forehead. "I think I should find a thermometer."
She took his temperature and felt his lymph nodes under his neck.
"Well, I think he needs to be checked out at the hospital. Todd,
what's your phone number?"

As Scully took the information, I took a look at the other children.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying their cake, laughing and calling
each other "booger-head" or "stoopid". But then another kid, a little
girl, ran into the bathroom, and that's why I'm scrubbing the carpet
in my car for the umpteenth time.

For their year-end class party the day before, the kids and their
teacher went to the nearby famous arches restaurant and had
burgers, fries, shakes, and the whole nine yards. It just so
happened that the three kids I ended up hauling to the Emergency
Ward had food poisoning. We took off as soon as the Kirks returned
home, and didn't bother looking back. I threw a blanket over the
mess on the floor in the back, and we got the heck out of that town.
Scully went to the trouble of buying me a can of carpet shampoo, at
least.

Did I mention the pants that I had to wash out six times? Thank God
I usually don't do this sort of thing. They WERE my favorite cargo
pants. Their cremation was an hour ago.

Fox Mulder. F.B.I. I chase sex offenders, kidnappers, oddities of
nature, flukes and alien/human hybrid clones. I don't think I'm cut out
to work with children or animals. Guess I just don't have the... uh, the
stomach for it. And now Scully owes me big time. I mean BIG TIME.
This is my penance for all I've put her through, but so help me, I will
make her pay.
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, The X-files are owned by
Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and Fox Studios.
I do not earn money from this.  I do not mean any
copyright infringement. They're on vacation, so I just
want to bring them back for this story.  Maybe a few
more.