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Date: 1997/08/26

Category/Rating:  Humour/PG-13
Spoilers:  None
Disclaimer:  Don't own 'em.  CC does.

WONDERLAND
by CiCi Lean, 1997
***********
All comments welcome.
Send to cicilean@yahoo.com
***********

Dana Scully was having a nightmare.

And she didn't know why she was.  It had started out as a typical day,
with two cups of coffee, her usual routine of email, phone calls,
paperwork, and then, her daily walk to the lab.  She'd been in the middle
of that walk when it had begun, when the world around her had shifted to a
familiar place, but at an unfamiliar time.

"But, how did I get here, Mom?" asked Scully, looking at the dinner table
that had materialized out of nowhere.

"Shhh, darling.  Have some carrots," said Mrs. Scully, more motherly than
any human being could possibly be.

"But Mom...." Oh, this is unbelievable, thought Scully. I'm at work, just
strolling down the hallway, and suddenly I'm at my mother's having dinner.
She looked around at the other guests, and gasped.

Yes, I'm having dinner.  With Mulder.  And Skinner.

Oh, boy, Dana, you are losing it big time.  Mulder smiled at her through a
mouthful of mashed potatoes.  She grimaced back, with a tight, frightened
grin.  She looked at Skinner and wondered what the heck he was doing in her
mother's house.

"Sir," she said, nodding and wondering exactly when she would wake up. 
Maybe I fell and hit my head, she thought.

"Call me *Dad*, Dana," replied Skinner in a deep, warm tone that bore no
resemblance to the voice of the superior she once knew and respected.

"Dad?" asked Scully, with a slight squeak.  "Um, pardon me, sir, but *why*
should I call you Dad?"

"Well, since your mother and I entered the holy bonds of matrimony, Dana,
I think it's appropriate, don't you?" said Skinner, as Mrs. Scully's
giggles emanated from the kitchen.

Scully paled. "Mom?" she gasped.  "Can you tell me what's going on here?"

"Why darling, how could you not know?" said Mrs. Scully, coming out of the
kitchen with giant bowls of tapioca.  "You were at the wedding, sweets. 
Here, have some pudding.  I'll be right back with the flan."

"You can call me Papa, if that suits you better Dana," said Skinner in a
sweet, warm, un-AD like tone.  "Or fatti?  Padre?  Da-da?"

"With all due respect, you are not my father, Sir," replied Scully
indignantly.  "Mom!!!!" she cried out, as her mother brought in yet another
steaming plate of food. "What is going on here?!"

"Oh, Dana.  Hush now, and eat your peas dearest," replied her mother in a
sweet, indulgent tone of voice.  "More turnips, Walter?  Fox?"

"Mom, I don't *want* peas!  I want to know what's is going on here!" cried
Scully, her head starting to feel as though it were being crushed in a vice.

"I'll have some more, *Mom*" said Mulder, holding his plate up with a
polished smile.

Scully turned and glared at her partner. "Excuse me, Mulder.  When did you
and I become siblings?  Don't call my mother *Mom*.  That's very rude."

Mrs. Scully pursed her lips at her daughter with extreme disapproval. 
"Dana, now you apologize to Fox.  Of course, he can call me *Mom*.  In fact
I insist that he calls me *Mom*.  Now, eat your leeks, darling and be quiet."

"Hope I don't have to call you *Mom*, snuggums," said Skinner with a gleam
in his eye.  Mrs. Scully merely giggled louder.

Scully gaped and held her head between her hands. This is not happening,
this is not happening, she chanted to herself.

Mulder leaned toward her, with a sympathetic expression. "I think you're
just a little confused, Scully.  Here, let me explain. She's *Mom*," began
Mulder, pointing at a beaming Mrs. Scully. "He's *Dad* and you're Dana."

"And who the hell are you?" asked Scully hoarsely, for she truly didn't
think she knew this person in front of her.

But Mulder simply smiled at her and pinched her porcelain cheek between
his warm, loving fingertips.  "You know me, Dana. I'm *Foxy*."  He pursed
his lips and leaned in for what appeared to Scully to be either a kiss or
some sort of deadly blood-sucking ritual.  And while she prayed it was the
latter, she didn't want to take any chances.

She rose quickly, her chair falling down behind her and landing with a
thud.  "You're all crazy.  Every last one of you.  I'm getting out of here.
This is a plot.  Yes, a plot to drive me insane."

"But darling," began Mrs. Scully, tears starting to form in her loving eyes.

"Dana," said Skinner, firmly, but gently.

"Sweet pea," whispered Mulder miserably, his eyes moist with concern.

But Scully wasn't falling for it. "Don't come near me, any of you!" she
cried, backing toward the door with her hand on her gun.  "I'm leaving here
and none of you are going to stop me!  I mean it...I'll shoot!"

And Dana Scully ran from the house.

"Oh, Walter!" cried Mrs. Scully, bursting into tears, as the door slammed
in Scully's wake.

Skinner rose to comfort her...chastely, of course.

Mulder also rose, tearfully determined. "We'll find her, Mom! Don't you
worry."  His voice lowered to a whispered sob.  "I'll find you once
more...Dana."

But Mrs. Scully continued to weep. "But she didn't even finish her peas!"


********

"Sleeping With Your Partner Will Get You Fired."

Scully looked up in wonder at the huge sign in the main lobby of the FBI
building.  What the heck is *that* all about, she thought, as she strode
toward the elevators.  Shaking her head, she determined that the best thing
to do was to go back to the beginning.

Yes, where this nightmare began.

The elevator *pinged* to a stop and the doors slid open.  Scully entered
and leaned against the wall with a sigh.  A figure in the mirror caught her
glance.  Her eyes grew huge.

It was Mulder.

She shrieked and tried to hit the alarm without success.

"I thought I left you at my mother's house," she said, banging the panel
with her fist, in a futile attempt to open the doors.

"No, I'm always in this elevator." said Mulder, his broad shoulders, hazel
eyes and pressed white shirt aimed to tantalize.  Scully sniffed, and
grimaced as she smelled an odd combination of spearmint gum and Calvin
Klein cologne.  Mulder was wearing his glasses, peculiar because he usually
only used them for reading or studying slides.

He ran his tongue over his full lower lip.  "Going down, Agent Scully?" he
asked throatily.

"No," she replied, jabbing at elevator numbers with an angry finger.  "I'm
going up, thank you very much."

"We can get stuck in here, you know," said Mulder, his voice growing
deeper, and the smells coming off of him growing stronger.

"Yeah, and a bullet can get stuck somewhere too," growled Scully, kicking
the panel furiously and beginning to cough through a choking haze of
expensive aftershave, peppermint, shampoo, mousse, and that smell that was
Mulder's alone. "Oh, my god," she gasped. "I can't breathe."

His lanky, lean, swimmer's body slid up to her.  "I know, it *is* getting
hot in here, isn't it, Scully?"

"No, I can't breathe through all that crap you have on.  Jesus, Mulder,
less is more, you know." she said, feeling faint with nausea.  "And step
back, I don't have time for this."

"We have all the time in the world, Scully," he whispered, his body
blocking hers into a corner.  "Come on. You know it, Scully.  This
universe, it's too strong for you, Scully.  You're one of us now."

"I don't know what you're talking about." said Scully, shoving him out of
her way, as the elevator ground to a stop. The doors opened and she quickly
exited, breaking into a run once outside.

But Mulder persisted.  "I smell the strawberries in your hair, Scully! 
You can't deny it!" he yelled, as she sprinted down the hallway.  "If
you're not one of us now, you will be soon. Soon!"

Never, thought Dana Scully, as she ran for her life.

Never.

*********

I was heading toward the lab, Scully thought, trying to retrace her steps
from that morning.  She was slowly working her way down the hall, when she
heard it.

Singing.

Not a completely unpleasant sound in itself, but quite out of place for a
hallway of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.  She cautiously advanced
toward the lab, and saw a technician, his back turned and his labcoat
flapping as he waved his arms.

"Earth Annnggeeelllll" he sang, loudly and obliviously.

He's gonna get fired if he doesn't knock that off, thought Scully as she
gently knocked on the door to get his attention.

She gasped when he turned around.

"Oh, my goodness, Agent Pendrell!" said Scully, now knowing for certain
she was in some sort of terrible dream world.  "Well, I never thought I'd
see you...uh...I mean, how interesting that you're...uh..hmmm.  How are
you?" she said finally, biting her lip, not sure what to say.

Pendrell stopped in the middle of the song, and turned such an alarming
shade of red, Scully grew concerned. "Aaa..gg.. nnnttt..Scc-uuu-lll..." he
stammered like a moron.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What's wrong with you?" she asked with a
quizzical expression.  "Are you sick?"

Pendrell blinked at her, took a quick look around, and began to speak
normally.  "You're not from around here, are you?" he asked curiously, all
affectations of idiocy ceasing.

Scully shook her head.  "No. I think I'm in some sort of bizarre waking dream."

"Oh," said Pendrell morosely.  "Well, bully for you."

"What are you doing here?" she asked uncomfortably.  The dead didn't
bother her much, but she grew nervous when they were walking around and
singing off-key.

"Doing?  I'm acting like an idiot, that's what I'm doing. And that's all I
do. They keep making me sing," said Pendrell miserably. "And then I get
caught and everyone has a good laugh. Pretty much the story of my life."

"Oh," replied Scully, still not sure what to say.  "Well, it could be
worse, I suppose."  She didn't want to inform him that in her world,  the
only thing he was doing was decomposing rapidly.

But Pendrell seemed unfazed.  "You mean like being dead?  Yeah, like
that's some big deal around here. I've croaked a couple of dozen times
already. Do you know that one of them actually brought me back to life,
gave me cancer and then killed me AGAIN?"  Pendrell shook his head
distastefully. "And I think she enjoyed doing it too."

He sighed and Scully felt a slight surge of confidence.  "You know,
Pendrell, strange things have been happening to me also and..." whispered
Scully, in a small fearful voice, but she was interrupted.

"Hey, Pendrell!  You aren't flirting with Scully again, ARE YOU?" boomed
Mulder, walking into the lab with a swagger.

Scully quickly reached for her gun and leveled it at him.

But Pendrell merely blanched, shook his head violently and began to
protest in a loud and pitiful voice.  "Oh no, Agent Mulder, I didn't touch
her.  I swear it!  Honest to ..."

But before he could finish, Pendrell vanished.

Scully screamed at the sight.  "Oh my god!"  cried Scully, who had never
seen a person disappear into thin air before.  "What happened to him?!"

Mulder shrugged nonchalantly.  "That always happens. Usually mid-way
through the piece, right after you dump him for me.  He just, you know,
vanishes. *Poof*" Mulder rubbed his hands together gleefully. "And you what
that means, don't you, Scully?"

Scully shook her head, gaping at him in shock.

But Mulder merely grinned at her like a shark. "That means that the good
part is right around the corner."

********

"Jesus..."

Scully furiously yanked at the thong that was unceremoniously crawling up
her private area.  She had no idea how she'd arrived there, in a strange
facsimile of her own bedroom, dressed in an ice blue satin thong and bra,
its wires and lace forcing her breasts into a pair of painfully exaggerated
lumps.  Her gun was gone, her clothes were gone and Mulder was lying on her bed.

Naked.

She kept her back to him and tried to cover up her exposed areas without
success. The smells in the room were overwhelming her.  Even she herself
stunk of lip gloss, strawberries, L'air du'Temps, whipped cream, grape
jelly, rose petals and that Scully scent that was her's alone. Mix that
with the mousse, shampoo, hot water and soap, shaving cream, CK One, whip
leather, spearmint gum and scented candles, and you have one recipe for a
night of vomiting, she thought.

"Put on some music, Dana," came the husky voice from the bed.

"Uh, right," she replied, looking around desperately for her gun.  Hmmm,
the spare.  I keep that near the CD player, great.  "Um, what kind of music
would you like, Mulder?" she asked calmly, opening the drawer and searching
for a weapon.

"Oh, I dunno darling," the voice oozed back from the bed.  "How about some
Celine Dion?  Gloria Estefan?  Michael Bolton or hey, how about some
Hanson?  And that Canadian girl singer, Sarah McWhazit...god, I love all of
them."

Scully's face distorted into an utterly disgusted grimace.  Michael
Bolton?  "Oh, I don't think I have any of those, Mulder."

She cursed softly at the empty drawer.

"Well, just come here then, you red-headed goddess, you," said Mulder
suavely.  "Scully, this is gonna be just like coming home for me.  Yep, a
homecoming. Or whatever."

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened and Krycek sauntered in, his lean hips
swaggering and naked under his worn leather jacket.

"Krycek?!" Scully yelped.  "Oh, my god..."

"Don't look so frazzled, honey," drawled Krycek, tossing himself in the
bed and throwing a leg over Mulder's.  "You're not my type."

"Don't mind him, Scully," said Mulder quickly.  "We can work around him."

The door opened again.  Skinner walked in, white briefs shining as he
climbed into the bed.  "Gotta make this quick, Mulder, have to go back to
*Mom* at 7 pm sharp."

Dana Scully now knew she was going insane. Think, Scully, think dammit,
her brain wailed.

"I really I have to leave now," she whispered, as the bodies on the bed
began to multiply.  Soon, Marita appeared, but no one would touch her. 
Same for Mrs. Scully, but she looked disgustingly happy nonetheless.

"You'll have to join us, Scully." said Mulder, now nearly buried
underneath a mass of writhing bodies.  "You have no choice."

"No choice.  No choice." they chanted as they writhed.  "No choice."

"No, I don't think so," replied Scully loudly, her voice straining to be
heard over their chants.

"No CHOICE!"  they cried, as the noise in the room grew louder and more insane.

"Never!" she howled.  "Why, you're...you're..." she stammered, as they
laughed. "You're.."

"We're what, honey?" they replied in unison, their laughter turning into
shrieks.

"YOU'RE...YOU'RE ALL OUT OF CHARACTER!!!!"  Scully finally screamed.

Suddenly the laughter ceased, and a howling wind filled the room.  Scully
watched as their eyes grew huge with terror, and the world around her grew
dark.  She felt herself being lifted above the room and all the noises, all
the laughter, all the horrible smells disappeared.

Oh, thank god, thought Scully, as the world turned to black around her.

*********
"Scully?"

Dana Scully opened her eyes and saw a familiar face.

"Are you all right?" asked Mulder, with a distressed look.

Scully shrieked and looked up in terror at her surroundings.  The white
and clean walls of a hospital room greeted her and when she stared at
Mulder, he returned the look with his typical expression of brotherly
concern.  Suddenly, she felt relief flood her soul and fell back against
the hospital bed pillows, nearly crying with happiness.

"What happened?" she whispered, rubbing her temples, and thanking god she
was back on earth.

"You fainted in the third floor hallway.  When we couldn't wake you up,
you were brought here for tests," he said gently.  "Is everything all right?"

"Mulder, I had the worst nightmare. " said Scully, shaking her head.  "I
mean, the worst."

"I'm sorry to hear that.  Want to talk about it?"

Scully shook her head.  "No, I just want to rest.  I feel like I've run a
marathon."

Mulder nodded compassionately.  "All right.  Can I see you later?"

Scully smiled.  "Yes, I'd like that. Thank you, Mulder.  Thank you so much."

"No problem.  I'll be back." he replied, gently patting her hand.

Scully closed her eyes, fell back against the pillows and he watched as
she drifted into a deep sleep.  And Mulder left the room, closing the door
silently behind him.

Waiting in the hall was Mrs. Scully. "Is she all right now, Fox?" she
asked in a loud whisper.

Mulder turned to her and nodded, an evil gleam filling his eyes.

"I think so...Mom." he snickered, and she began to laugh with him, a
hoarse, unseemly noise. Soon, Skinner, Pendrell, Krycek, Marita appeared in
the brightly lit hallway and they all joined in the loud, wicked laughter.

And behind Fox Mulder, the huge hospital sign loomed brightly.

"GOSSAMER ASYLUM.  PLEASE BE QUIET."

***********
Fini.

cicilean@yahoo.com