From: susieqla@yahoo.com   
      
   CROSSOVER FIC – The X-Files and Seinfeld   
      
      
   Title:  The Bizarro World – Man Hands   
   Author: Sue   
   Rating:  PG   
   Spoilers:  The Bizarro Jerry   
   Category:  AU, the world of Seinfeld, as we think we know it.  Scully   
   and Mulder, well...you know.   
      
      
      
      
   New York City –   
   8:00 p.m.   
      
      
      
      
   As Scully perused the menu, she said, "So, I guess you'd say our   
   findings were inconclusive."  Still not looking away from the printed   
   page, she smiled.  The chicken dish sounded interesting.  She'd had   
   it before, not here, of course, and tried imagining how it would   
   taste with caramelized onions instead of sautéed mushrooms.  She   
   decided she'd compare.   
      
   Mulder, not taking his eyes off what, or in this case, who, he was   
   studying, casually replied, "The findings are our findings, Scully.   
   They are what they are."  A pointed look of mystification claimed his   
   face.   
      
   "And that would be?" Scully prompted.  Her light sigh had escaped of   
   its own volition.   
      
   "Open to subjective interpretation, which is what you'll supply when   
   you write the report.  I'll punch it up where it needs it, for extra-   
   terrestrial effect." Sluggishly, he muttered something incoherent   
   under his breath, and returned his eyes to his point of interest   
   several tables from them.   
      
   Scully looked up then, and noticed Mulder's inordinate absorption   
   with whatever was going on over her left shoulder.  "I'll see what I   
   can do with an objective conscience," she dryly remarked.  It was her   
   turn to stare.  Mulder hadn't blinked for a while, and his eyes were   
   widening all the time.  "Is there a problem?" Scully asked delicately.   
      
   "Hmmm?" he replied, sounding as though he was suddenly dining alone.   
      
   "Mulder..."   
      
   "Oh, sorry, Scully...it's just that..."  His voice trailed, and his   
   look that Scully had lately begun terming, `musey' reinforced itself.   
      
   She shifted, about to glance over her shoulder when their waiter,   
   with pitcher at the ready, asked if she wanted water.  "Yes, please.   
   No ice, thank you."   
      
   "Water for you, sir?"   
      
   Sounding removed, Mulder uttered, "It can't be."   
      
   "Honest, it's just water, sir, but if you'd like a drink...a   
   cocktail, some wine...I can get that for you.  What would you like?"   
   Mulder was miles away.   
      
   Scully shook her head, and the waiter got the message.  He said he'd   
   be back momentarily to take their orders.   
      
   "I don't believe it."   
      
   Scully's eyes demanded that Mulder's find hers quickly, or dinner   
   promised to be a bumpy ride.  As she rolled them, she rejoined, "Now   
   that's rich coming from you."   
      
   I haven't seen him since high school."   
      
   "Who?"   
      
   "But I'd know that face anywhere."   
      
   "Whose face?" Scully pursued.   
      
   "It hasn't changed that much."   
      
   "Mulder--who are you talking about?"   
      
   "Jerry Seinfeld."   
      
   "What's a Jerry Seinfeld?"  Warily, Scully looked in the direction of   
   her wound up partner's canting head.   
      
   "He was the eleventh grade's, well, no.  To be honest, the entire   
   school's class clown.  He was our answer to Milton Berle.  See him   
   there.  He's with the blonde looker."  `He's making up for all the   
   girls who hadn't wanted to be caught dead with him.  He was more   
   undateable than I was,' Mulder thought, immensely glad that he was   
   here with his attractive, shapely FBI cohort.  "Uh huh, they're   
   seated near the decorative plant-lined partition."   
      
   "Jerry Seinfeld," Scully intoned, a fraction tongue-in-cheek.  So, it   
   wasn't an EBE, a mothman or even your average Fiji mermaid, after   
   all.  It's a Jerry Seinfeld, an old chum from school.  Sometimes   
   normalcy had a wry way of asserting itself.  "So...are you planning   
   to go over and say, `hi?'"   
      
   "As a matter of fact, Scully, that's just what I plan on doing.  Come   
   on, I'll introduce you."   
      
   "But we haven't ordered yet.  Let's order first, at least.  That way,   
   our food will be started while you and he get re-acquainted.  I'm   
   starving, Mulder.  S-t-a-r-v-i-n-g."  There had been no breakfast, no   
   lunch, and Scully wasn't going to get shortchanged on dinner.  Yes,   
   they were physically here in the restaurant, but that did not mean   
   that having a plate of food before her was a reality.  Once Scully   
   was chewing and swallowing, that would be the reality.   
      
   Mulder, more bouncy than she liked to see him, was on his feet.  He   
   was motioning grandly for his partner to join him.  "It'll only take   
   a minute...promise."   
      
   "Yeah, sure," Scully muttered.  To their puzzled waiter, who regarded   
   his departing `servees' with a questioning look, she   
   explained, "We'll be right back."  Indicating Mulder, she   
   continued, "Saying hello to an old friend."   
      
   The waiter nodded after settling his shrugged shoulders back in place.   
      
   Upon immediate recognition, Seinfeld bolted to his feet and the old   
   school chums heartily embraced.  "How long has it been?" Jerry fairly   
   cheeped.  "Fox Mulder--well, uh, Mulder.  See, I haven't forgotten."   
      
   "Too long," Mulder corroborated, and nodding, he awarded, "and of   
   course you wouldn't.  You were the only kid I actually told my first   
   name to.  Self-preservation."   
      
   Scully raised an eyebrow dramatically, and her look of, `huh?'   
   flashed in her eyes.   
      
   "The bullies in our school were brutal.  Even teachers called   
   him, `Mulder,'" Jerry anxiously supplied.   
      
   Wanting to say, `that figures,' she decided a question would be more   
   fitting.  "Did I miss something?" Scully asked, reading the answer in   
   Mr. F. Spooky's eyes.   
      
   "Speaking of which," Mulder handily interjected, "Jerry, it's my   
   pleasure to introduce my right-hand woman, in a manner of speaking,   
   Miz Dana Scully.  Scully, Jerry Seinfeld."   
      
   Seinfeld's eyes flew to Dana's hands, and he grinned, liking how   
   small they were; they suited the petite redhead to a tee.  "Scully?"   
   Jerry questioned, a perky look of knowledgeableness sparking in   
   playful eyes.  "He calls you by your surname?"   
      
   "And I call him by his, as if you couldn't guess.  It's just   
   something we fell into," Scully said, sounding amenable.  She cast   
   incredibly soulful eyes Mulder's way.   
      
   He smiled, taking on her look with a potent one of his own.   
      
   Jerry redirected his attention and introduced his vivacious dinner   
   companion.  "Miz Scully, Mulder, it's my pleasure to introduce Miz   
   Gillian Mittmanus.  We've been seeing each other for...uh, well."   
      
   "Oh, Jerry, it's been about a month, now."   
      
   Jerry winked.  "Yes, that's right.  Nearly a month, hands down."   
      
   Scully shook Gillian's hand first.  Before Mulder went to take Ms.   
   Mittmanus' hand, he looked askance at Scully.  He couldn't help but   
   notice how she was flexing her hand, as though she might have been   
   working the kinks out of it.  Out the corner of his eye he could have   
   sworn that he saw Jerry look squeamish as the girlfriend grasped his   
   hand.  That was some grip; a vise had nothing on her.  It got weirder   
   for Mulder.  Losing feeling in his hand, as well as sight of it as   
   Gillian shook it vigorously, he worked to get his hand free.  Before   
   he could censor his gut reaction, "My, that's quite a grip you have,"   
   tumbled past his lips.   
      
   It had sounded innocuous enough, but Scully knew better.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)