From: marguerite@swbell.net

Date: Mon, 16 Feb 1998 18:15:16 GMT

Subject: Batteries not Included.Marguerite.atxc

An earlier attempt to post this failed...I think. If you DID see it, I

apologize profusely.

Title: Batteries Not Included

Author: Marguerite <marguerite@swbell.net>

Classification: Humor

Rating: Mild R (l, s)

Spoilers: Only your appetite...

Archive: Sure...

Summary: A response to Kelly Shuford's challenge. What would happen if

Mulder came upon Scully's vibrator?

Disclaimers: This is just for fun. CC and Fox, please don't sue.

Kelly, this one's for you. <g>

BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED

It is a well-known fact that airport luggage carousels are just an

illusion, that the baggage is actually carried from the cargo hold to

the revolving platforms by giant alien snails with no sense of

direction.

Maybe it was not a well-known fact, but it was Mulder's latest theory as

he waited for two suitcases to come through the chute. Scully had gone

off to deal with the rental car. "A big, manly man like you can handle

the luggage, can't you, Mulder?" she had asked with an airy wave of her

hand as she disappeared into the vast throng of people in the anonymous

airport.

That had been forty-five minutes ago, and he was still waiting. He

sighed heavily, leaning against a concrete pillar and counting the

ceiling tiles again. Suddenly a brown flash attracted his attention; it

was his scuffed suitcase coming toward him. With a possessive gesture

he lurched forward and took the ragged handle. Scully had pleaded with

him to get something more recent and dignified. "Honestly, Mulder,

that poor beat-up case is an eyesore and an embarrassment."

"Scully, I bought this back at Oxford. It cost a fortune. How could it

embarrass me?"

"When it finally splits open and spills your undies all over the baggage

carousel, don't you dare come whining to me."

*That shows how much you know, Scully,* Mulder thought. *Mine's still

in one piece, but yours...

...oh, God...*

The demure beige case, advertised as being able to withstand a truck

running over it, had been demolished by the baggage-handling snails. It

rested in an unseemly gray plastic bin, Scully's possessions scattered

all over it.

Mulder snatched the container from the carousel and inspected the bag.

The latches had given but weren't broken. He picked up Scully's

underwear (silk push-up bra, Scully?) and put it back inside. Her

sensible casual clothing and toiletry kit followed. His hand came upon

something he couldn't quite identify. It was cylindrical. It was

rubber. It was...

"Holy shit!" Astonished, he tucked the vibrator far under the clothing

and slammed the case shut. His face was a study in amused shock.

Scully was 'packing.' He'd never let her hear the end of this.

He'd never live to tell. If she knew that he knew, he'd be dead.

"Mulder?"

He started violently, his head contacting the concrete pillar. "Ow!

Yeah!"

"What happened to my suitcase?"

"It, uh, just turned up in the bin. Just like that. Someone must've

re-packed it."

*And just when WERE you planning to use your equipment, Agent Scully?*

"Mulder, what's the matter?"

"Nothing. Just my head." He was talking too quickly, sending signals

to Scully's radar. "I probably hurt the pillar more than it hurt me.

Let's get on the road, okay?"

*********************************************************************************************

The case had been a total wash-out, just as Scully had predicted.

Mulder would have been annoyed at her snipes had it not been for the

memory of the appliance he had found in Scully's suitcase.

*There has to be a logical, scientific, rational explanation,* he

thought as he stared out the window of his motel room. He had earphones

on and was listening to the Knicks game on the radio, trying to erase

from his brain the idea that Scully was about to make use of what he had

found. There was a knock on the adjoining door.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah. Come in." He slid the earphones down around his neck and

turned to the door as Scully entered. "What's up?"

"Do you have any double-A batteries? Mine've gone dead."

"........."

"Mulder?"

"Uh...just the ones in here." He indicated his walkman.

"Can I borrow them? I really, really need batteries. Just for a little

while."

"........."

"Mulder, ten minutes. Fifteen, tops. Okay?" She held out her hand

with that no-nonsense look which had never seemed quite so ominous

before. "I need to get comfortable, Mulder. You owe me for dragging me

here at the crack of dawn." Mulder opened the back of his walkman,

extracted the batteries, and handed them to his partner. She looked at

him; his face was pasty-white and he was starting to sweat.

"You look like you're coming down with something. You'd better go to

bed."

"Yeah. Umm..."

"I'll bring these back when I'm done.

"Oh, God..."

"Thanks, Mulder."

"Umm..."

She was gone. Mulder flopped face-down on the bed. "With my batteries,

yet," he grumbled. "This is too much."

But it was only beginning. He heard a faint buzzing noise through the

wall.

"You have GOT to be kidding." Even with a pillow over his head, he

could hear the buzzing. In fact, it seemed even louder. He could hear

Scully sighing happily.

All of the blood in his body went straight to his groin without passing

'Go' or collecting $200.00.

"That's so much better," he heard Scully whisper.

"No way! NO way!" he shouted. "Scully, stop that right now!" He

barged through the door, his hair and manhood both standing on end.

Scully was sitting on the edge of the bed in a pale-blue nightie, and in

her hands was...

...an electric razor.

Fox Mulder fainted dead away, suffering a concussion that put him in the

emergency room.

Dana Scully laughed so hard that she had to be sedated.

END

comments, flames, etc: marguerite@swbell.net