Downed by the Dogs Steven M. Wagner swagner@nando.net No Spoilers DISCLAIMER: This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot- lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Lee Ann, lwagner@nando.net, and I own/am owned by two Rotties and a cat. Lee Ann has referred to the Rotties occasionally when a story has been especially funny and her laughter makes the dogs head for the bedroom and quiet. The critters in this story are based on the three animals. Our female Rottie, Sammy, is going by the stage name "J.J." for this tale since the name "Sam" has special meaning in the X-Files' world. And, BTW, she does sit down hard and spaze. ---------------------------------------------------------------- "Blast it Scully, where are you?" Mulder looked at his watch for what seemed the 20th time since he had gotten to the park. Scully was supposed to be joining him for an early morning run. And his partner was not there at the park when he got there. And his partner was still not there half an hour latter. He hit memory dial #2 on his cel-phone to call Scully's home phone, #1 being for Luigi B.G. Pizza delivery. No answer. Hit memory dial #3 for her cel phone. 'That number is not in service at this time . . .' was the message. Must have it turned off. he thought. Unbidden, images came to his mind, Scully tied up in the back of a psycho's car. Fighting off a killer in her own bathroom. In shock, watching her own blood pump out of a severed artery. He was in the car driving to her apartment before he realized it. he thought, driving by the front of her place. He hurriedly parked the sedan and walked up to her door. After an unanswered knock, he decided it was time to go in. A quick check, the door was still locked and there were no new scratches by the deadbolt lock. he thought. He reached to the small of his back for his automatic. And grabbed a handful of sweatpants. Wishing that he was better prepared, he pulled out his own keyring and unlocked the door. It swung in normally. He slowly walked in, all senses at alert. No unusual noises, no odd smells. "Scully," he faintly called out, hoping against hope that she was ok. The only answer he got back was a low, almost silent growl. It was a primal noise, one that chilled the blood in his veins. Then a slight movement caught his eye. Long enough for him to see the smooth flow of black and mahogany, the flash of ivory, and the weight hit his chest and knocked him down. THUMP!! "What the . . .," the diminutive redhead said. thinking of the two Rotties and a cat she was watching for a couple. She quickly pulled on her bathrobe, grabbed her gun, and went out into the living room. The sight she saw brought a smile to her lips and a sparkle to her eyes. Her partner had lost the battle. Angus, the victor and one of the dogs, was sitting, staring into Mulder's face, drooling. 'J.J.', the other Rottwieller, was sitting on his thigh, wiggling, grinding the stump of her tail into his flesh. Spazing around. Mulder quickly regained his breath. And a low growl reminded him not to move. The dog that had tackled him was sitting down, looking down into his face, and Mulder would swear, was smiling. The corners of the Rottweiller's full lips were up, the long pink tongue lazily hanging out one side. he thought. "Nice doggie. Nice man just wants to get up and give the nice doggie some treats," he quietly begged. A slow move to try to get up earned him another growl. his thinking was stopped by the sharp pain of another large Rottie dropping its rump onto his left thigh. And starting to wiggle and swing its body. It was quite a painful experience. "The one grinding it's butt into your thigh is named J.J., the other is named Angus. And, by the way, I haven't fed them breakfast yet." Scully's alto intruded into his pain. Mulder saw what he could only describe as the most beautiful image in the world. It was not the copper curls wantonly loose. It was not the trim figure barely covered by the IBM blue silk kimono. It was not the shining alabaster skin, skin that was flushed, you knew not if it was from the bath or the bed. It was the 9mm FBI issue Smith and Wesson in her delicate hand and the look of determination on her face. "Scully, help," was his plaintive call. Mulder rolling his eyes backwards was precious, Scully decided. It was also time to 'call off the dogs.' "Angus. J.J. Come," she called out to the dogs. They obediently got up and walked over to her. "You can get up now, Mulder. They won't eat you." "Thanks, Scully," he told her as he stood up. "Who are . . . Ouch, what the . . ." Mulder turned and saw a black and white shorthaired cat sitting on the coffee table, looking very innocent. "That's just Lockheed. A cat. His owners told me that he just likes to reach out and touch people. Guess, you are somebody he wants to know," she told her partner. Seeing him rubbing the spot where J.J. tenderized his leg, she was suddenly concerned that he might really be hurt. "Are you really hurt," she asked, a bit of concern in her voice. "Not really. What's up," he asked. "Friends," she started. Seeing his eyebrows raise, "Yes Mulder, I do have a life, and that includes normal people. As I was saying, a couple that I know were called away for the weekend and asked me to keep an eye on their pets. One of them, who shall remain nameless, knocked the plug loose on my alarm-clock. And thus, I overslept." "I tried calling a couple of times." "I keep the cel-phone turned off while I'm home," she said absently as she went over and checked where the phone plugged into the wall. The plug was loose, and had little teeth marks. "I have done my investagation and believe that it is the cat who is the culprit," she said holding up the chewed phone plug. "Still want to go for a run." "I don't think so. I really don't want to leave these monsters alone, if I can help it. I would like to take the two Rotties with us, and they don't run too well." She stood and thought for a moment, scratching an itch with the front sight of her 9mm. "How about, I pack a snack, and we go for a walk instead?" "Sure." "Ok. While I'm getting dressed, think of whose lead you want to hold?," Scully asked heading for the bedroom. Mulder looked down in horror as both Rotties sat in front of him, leads in their mouths, looking like perfect angels. It was going to be a long walk. end