From: k.morse@ntlworld.com   
      
   Title: Murphy's Law , (or All Foxes find their own holes.)   
      
   Category Story: Adventure or  (misadventure) H   
      
   Rating: PG some naughty words. Smelly situations. Mulder POV.   
      
   Author: WayneX  My pal is shy so can you send feedback to   
   k.morse@ntlworld.com   
      
   Disclaimer: CC and Fox are the big Honchos who own this. Written for the   
   March, Necessity is the mother of invention.   
      
   Feedback.: Later.   
      
      
      
   Murphy's Law   
      
   I've always believed in Murphy's Law. If shit can happen, you better have a   
   huge goddamn shovel on the ready. I suppose it's applied to me most of my   
   life and the situation that I've gotten us into now is no exception.   
   Scully's disdain is apparent with that arch in her eyebrow each time she   
   focuses her attention on me. If looks could kill, I'd be fucked.   
      
   This morning I received an email from an unknown source advising me of a   
   peculiar land formation that materialized overnight. Only an hours drive   
   away and as I was bored with endless report writing, I decided a little   
   expedition out of the basement would not only allow me some fresh air and   
   freedom, it might actually be worth checking out.   
      
   Now, really it's Scully's own fault she's in this predicament with me. I had   
   almost made it to the water cooler with thoughts of stealing a few hours   
   when she rounded the corner startling me out of my stupor.   
      
   "A little early for lunch, isn't Mulder?"   
      
   "I er."   
      
   Now, if I'd come up with a better, more articulate answer I just may have   
   gotten away with it but when she crossed her arms I knew that I was dead   
   meat; maybe even rotting meat with maggots.   
      
   "Were you planning on ditching me again, Mulder?"   
      
   "No, I just. I thought. Scully, I really need to get away from those   
   reports. You know, collect my thoughts."   
      
   "You mean leave me to finish them, don't you?"   
      
   "Of course not." I face the raise of her eyebrow. "Only a few hours,   
   Scully."   
      
   "Right." Unfolding her arms, she continued round the corner. "Bye Mulder."   
      
   An invisible icicle plunged through my chest, piercing the already   
   accumulating growth of guilt. I could feel my shoulders slump. Why is it   
   that women can manipulate men with just a few words or a certain look?   
      
   I catch her as she reaches for the door.   
      
   "How does a drive to the woods sound to you?" She virtually spins on her   
   heels, a cynical expression on her face, but she's silent, questioning.   
   "There's something I want to investigate, some kind of formation that's   
   appeared overnight."   
      
   "A formation? Crop formations, Mulder? Do you realize how many of those have   
   turned out to be hoaxes?"   
      
   "This isn't a crop formation, Scully. It's some kind of crater."   
      
   "Crater? Shouldn't you be contacting a geologist?"   
      
   "I'd like to see exactly what we're dealing with first."   
      
   "Right."   
      
   "You can come along or you can stay and finish your reports."   
      
   "Oh no. I'm not doing those on my own. I'm coming with you, regardless of   
   whether it turns out to be a hoax or not."   
      
   Now when I see her with dirt caked on her hands and the dagger looks she's   
   giving me at just the right intervals, I'm sure she's thinking those reports   
   are looking more fascinating every minute and wishing I'd ditched her to   
   finish them.   
      
   It all started out just fine. It was a pleasant drive and Scully must've   
   appreciated the thought of abandoning the reports as after stopping for gas,   
   she produced a bag of sunflower seeds and some ice tea. I'm sure that   
   agreeable mood was soon to be replaced by her not-so-impressed attitude.   
      
   The area indicated to me in the email was on the outskirts of DC and   
   although not quite the woods I was anticipating, it was country enough to   
   challenge Scully's balance over the terrain in her heels. I'm grateful she   
   didn't land on her ass those times she did trip or I would be doubly   
   regretting this venture.   
      
   The 'crater' turned out to be a hole. The only attestation to any paranormal   
   implication was that it was a perfect circle. Scully's quip that perhaps I   
   might think it was from the landing gear of a UFO didn't help my souring   
   demeanor. No farmer Mike confronted us with any other explanation so being   
   inquisitive I knelt down to take a closer look.   
      
   It was a fairly large hole, perhaps the size of a water tank in radius and   
   perhaps 10 feet deep at best. If I hadn't leaned closer to inspect the rim   
   of the aperture for any scorches or furrows made by machinery, I wouldn't   
   have lost my footing.   
      
   The bottom of the hole was soft and free of rocks, unlike the area above   
   ground so I sustained no injuries, apart from my pride. Scully's laughter   
   echoed down bruising that pride even further. After she recovered from her   
   moment of hysteria, we devised a 'rope' or sorts from our jackets to assist   
   me in climbing my way out. Unfortunately, the ground was soggy. Not only did   
   I manage to slide back down on my ass, Scully in her efforts to assist,   
   slipped and was yanked down, landing atop yours truly.   
      
   Ok I admit that was not the time for me to laugh or to utter "Hi Scully" but   
   how was I to know the whole area was soggy and she wouldn't find this   
   situation humorous.   
      
   She struggled off me, patting down her skirt and trying to implant some   
   space between us, which isn't very far in this hole.   
      
   "Ok G-man, you got any bright ideas to get us out of here?"   
      
   I attempted to kick out soil for footholds, clutching at roots poking   
   through the sides of the hole in order to recommence my ascent. After half a   
   dozen unsuccessful endeavors ending up on my ass each time, I surmised   
   perhaps we needed a new strategy.   
      
   Now, after sitting and replenishing my energy and my sore ass, I think I've   
   come up with a plan.   
      
   "I'd say this hole is about 10 feet deep, right?" Scully glances at me as if   
   I've just stated the obvious. "I'm over 6 feet, so if you climb on my   
   shoulders, you might be able to touch the top and climb out."   
      
   "'Might be able to touch.?"   
      
   Her hands fly to her waist. I can't imagine what I've said to piss her off.   
   Wasn't I finding the most possible way out of our predicament?   
      
   "What?"   
      
   "Mulder, for your information I happen to be OVER 4 feet tall!"   
      
   Ah. Right.   
      
   "What I meant, Scully, was that this could be more than 10 feet deep, I just   
   didn't phrase that well."   
      
   Good comeback. It looks like she's buying it as she peers up.   
      
   "I don't think I can climb on your shoulders, Mulder."   
      
   "Sure you can. You can use the sides to keep your balance."   
      
   "I'm in a skirt."   
      
   "I promise not to look."   
      
   She tilts her head to the side, thinning her lips in a mock smile.   
      
   "I can't maneuver well in this skirt, let alone climb onto your shoulders."   
      
   "Then take it off."   
      
   "No."   
      
   "Cross my heart, Scully, I won't look."   
      
   "No."   
      
   "Suit yourself. We may be stuck here for some time unless that farmer   
   decides to show up. Why did you have to wear a skirt today anyway?"   
      
   "Mulder, whatever I decide to choose from my wardrobe on a daily basis has   
   nothing to do with you and besides I had no idea we were going to traipse   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)