From: msk1024@yahoo.com   
      
   Title:   The Freedom Squad Birthday   
   Author: Kel and msk   
   Email: ckelll@hotmail.com   
          msk1024@yahoo.com   
   Rating: PG-13   
   Archive:  Just ask.   
   Spoilers:  Breaks with canon after Existence.  Also   
   assumes Mulder was reinstated to the FBI after Vienen.   
   Disclaimer:  Not ours.  Sigh.   
   Note:  Written for The Nursery Files May Challenge:   
   William's fifth birthday.   
   Summary:  Mulder and Scully as happy, average   
   people?  It's not only that we can't picture it,   
   but we don't really see the point.  Why take all   
   that history and turn it into "Leave It To Mulder?"   
   Here's how msk and Kel picture William's   
   fifth birthday.   
      
   May 20, 2006   
      
   The alarm clock buzzed and he flung out an arm to slam   
   down the snooze button.   
      
   "John?"   
      
   "Ten minutes," he muttered into his pillow.   
      
   "Wake up, John."   
      
   "Ten more minutes."   
      
   "What day is it, John?"   
      
   He scrubbed his gritty eyes with the heels of his   
   hands and squinted at her.   
      
   "It's. . . Saturday."  He chuckled, now fully awake.   
   "Mm, nothing like a little breakfast in bed."  He   
   reached over, grabbing a fistful of her shirt.   
      
   She squealed and rolled away from him.   
      
   "Is that all you ever think about?" she asked,   
   climbing out of the bed.   
      
   "Yeah, basically."   
      
   "Then it's time for your to stretch your mind.  What   
   were you doing five years ago today?"   
      
   "Hell, Monica, I don't remember what we had for dinner   
   last night."   
      
   "Think, John, think."   
      
   "Five years ago.  May 20, 2001.  Oh, crap.  I was   
   runnin' around the FBI building lookin' for guys with   
   spikes in their necks, and you were drivin' down to   
   Georgia with Dana."   
      
   "Exactly.  So guess who's having a birthday today?"   
      
   "Oh, hell.  And it's my job to get Mulder to the party   
   on time."   
      
   "Dana's going to shoot him if he screws this up."   
      
   "I'll shoot him myself, that son-of-a-bitch."  He   
   swung his legs to the floor and sat on the edge of   
   the bed.   
      
   "So you'll get him to the party?"   
      
   "I'll get him there, even if I have to lash him to the   
   fender to do it."  He stood, stretched, and scratched   
   the side of his neck.   
      
   "I'm going to Dana's early, to help her get ready."   
      
   "You sure we don't have time for a little *breakfast*   
   first?"   
      
   She gave him a kiss, then a sympathetic smile.   
      
   "I'll see you in the kitchen," she said.   
      
   A cup of coffee, a whole-grain toaster-pastry, another   
   kiss, and he was out the door.  He climbed into the   
   pick-up, but before he could turn the key, his phone   
   began to vibrate.   
      
   "Hello?"   
      
   "I need your help."   
      
   "Mulder, do you have any idea what day it is?"   
      
   "That's why I need you.  Meet me at the office."   
      
   That guy took the prize.  It was his son's birthday,   
   it was Saturday, and he was at work.  The only good   
   thing was he'd given Doggett a call, instead of just   
   disappearing without a word.   
      
   The garage was empty, and Doggett found a space right   
   by the elevator.  Gone were the days when their office   
   was tucked away in the basement.  Now it was hidden in   
   plain sight.  The sign on the door said "Anomaly   
   Resolution," but everybody still called it the   
   X-Files.   
      
   Doggett found Mulder leaning over his desk, polishing   
   something with an oily rag.   
      
   "Like it?" Mulder asked, holding up his handiwork.  A   
   baseball mitt--first base, now that he got a better   
   look.  Leather.  Nice.   
      
   "It's a little small for you," Doggett said.   
      
   "Now that's why our homeland is secure.  Guys like you   
   who don't miss a thing."   
      
   "You got it for Billy.  Good for you, Mulder."  As in,   
   good for  you, numbnuts, you remembered.   
      
   "He called me last night.  By himself."  Mulder   
   sounded proud, like he was the one who taught the kid   
   how to use a phone.  "He's all excited."   
      
   "Sure.  Birthdays are a big deal when you're a kid."   
      
   "He wants a Freedom Squad Battle Fortress."   
      
   "I'm sure he'll like that mitt just fine."   
      
   Mulder was grinding the ball into the glove, forming   
   the pocket.  Which really wasn't necessary, but still,   
   that's what a guy does with a new glove.   
      
   "I went to World O' Toys and Big Box Toys in Alexandria.   
   I called a couple of stores in Arlington.  I didn't get   
   very far."   
      
   "He didn't give you much notice," Doggett said.  As   
   in, maybe if you talked to him more than once a month,   
   you would have known earlier.   
      
   "After the stores closed, I looked around on line.   
   Back-order, everywhere."   
      
   "What you do, Mulder, is you go to one of the stores   
   and fill out a card, and they'll call you when it   
   comes in.  Meanwhile you give him a gift certificate.   
   And the mitt."   
      
   "There's a couple on Ebay."   
      
   "There ya go."   
      
   Mulder punched the glove absently.  Thunk, thunk,   
   thunk.   
      
   "What are you getting him?" he asked.   
      
   "Uh, 'The Wind in the Willows.'  See, I was gonna get   
   him the Turbothunder Figure-Eight Speedway, but Monica   
   thought it had too many small parts."   
      
   "That's a great book," Mulder said, and it took a   
   minute before Doggett realized he wasn't being   
   sarcastic.   
      
   "He'll get loads of toys today.  And when you get him   
   that battle thing, whenever it is, it'll be like   
   having an extra birthday," Doggett said.   
      
   "I told him he'd get it today," Mulder said.   
      
   "That was dumb."   
      
   "Your powers of observation continue to amaze me."   
      
   "Glad I could help."   
      
   "As a matter of fact, you can help.  Here's what we're   
   gonna do."   
      
   "I don't believe this," Doggett said.   
      
   Mulder tossed a manila folder across the desk and   
   flipped on the slide projector.   
      
   "The toy stores are circled in blue.  Department   
   stores are red.  Asterisks are for Wal-marts."   
      
   "I thought you hate Wal-mart."   
      
   "Desperate times call for desperate measures.  I got   
   Frohike covering the metro area, and Langly's doing   
   Maryland."   
      
   "This is crazy."   
      
   "Do you want Delaware or Virginia?"   
      
   "Mulder, the party's in five hours."   
      
   "Like I said, Doggett, you don't miss a thing.  Study   
   those pictures--I want you to recognize the box from   
   any side, any angle.  Don't forget your map."   
      
   "You're crazy."   
      
   "Let's get moving.  Toys-R-Us opens in forty   
   minutes."   
      
   ****************   
      
   "Dana, why don't you let me help you with that?"   
      
   Monica stood in the doorway of Scully's apartment, bags   
   of juice boxes and potato chips in her hands.   Scully   
   perched on a step ladder, hanging crepe paper streamers   
   in the dining room.   
      
   "I've got it.  But you can hand me some more tape."   
      
   Monica set her bags down and tore off some adhesive tape   
   for Scully.  Dana climbed down from the ladder,   
   blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and surveyed her   
   handiwork.   
      
   A string of metallic letters that proclaiming "Happy   
   Birthday" stretched across the top of doorjamb,   
   evidence of Scully's decorating efforts.   
      
   "I see you went with the *Freedom Squad* theme," Monica   
   said, eying the brightly colored plates and napkins   
   stacked on the table.   
      
   "It was what William wanted.  I suggested a circus   
   theme but he wouldn't budge.  The child has a stubborn   
   streak."   
      
   "Like father like son?" Monica asked, smiling.  Dana's   
   response was a sour look.   
      
   If she lived for a hundred years, Monica would never   
   understand the relationship between Dana and Mulder.   
   Intensely private, each of them clammed up at the hint   
   of prying.  Monica knew she was probably Dana's closest   
   friend, but Dana almost never spoke of personal matters.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)