To: "XF Fanfic List XF/atxc posts", INTERNET:xff-atxc@lists.x-philes.com From: "Helen Wills", INTERNET:Helen.Wills@wills2.demon.co.uk Date: 11/8/99, 7:46 PM Re: Two Pig Night [1/1] by Helen Wills TITLE: Two Pig Night AUTHOR: Helen Wills EMAIL ADDRESS: Helen@wills2.demon.co.uk DISTRIBUTION: Gossamer, yes; Spooky's, yes; all others please ask first. SPOILERS: SR819 CONTENT: H RATING: PG13 CLASSIFICATION: V, SUMMARY: Everyone should have someone or something to love. (Response to the pot-bellied pig challenge on ATXC.) DISCLAIMER: "The X Files" and all the characters etc. associated with it are the property of 20th Century Fox and 1013 Productions. I am not making any profit from this story, and no infringement is intended. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: The paragraph about Skinner and the pot-bellied pig was originally posted to ATXC by Kel, and I take my hat off to her :-) The challenge to then write the story was posted by Julia Milton - so here it is, Julia. Hope you like it .... I also owe thanks to Gerry (for lightning proof-reading) and Red Valerian (for information and encouragement). NOTES: It was only after I finished writing this story that I discovered CazQ's excellent "Jiggery Pokery", which was also written around Kel's Skinner-and-pig paragraph. The similarities between her story and mine are pure coincidence, but are strong enough that initially I decided not to post "Two Pig Night". However, I've since contacted Caz and explained the situation; and she has very kindly told me to go ahead and post anyway. So here it is. I hope you enjoy it - and I hope that you'll also take the time to read "Jiggery Pokery". It's brilliant! XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX TWO PIG NIGHT By Helen Wills Helen@wills2.demon.co.uk XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Part 1/1 Inexplicably, Skinner had chosen that night to purchase a pot-bellied pig, and now, as he waited in line at the ATM, he wondered if it had been a mistake to leave it in the trunk of his car. It wasn't so much that it was a confined space; more that he was concerned about the effect the animal might have on the new pink fun-fur lining and upholstery. It had taken him most of the evening to install that. This thought was so distracting that he made his transaction on auto-pilot, withdrawing $200 and turning away from the machine in such haste that he nearly knocked down the customer standing behind him. "Sorry," he mumbled, clutching cash and card to his chest. "Got to get back to my pig." He scuttled away, unaware that Assistant Director Kersch was giving him a very puzzled look. But Kersch was a man with problems of his own; the potted rubber plant he was carrying in his knapsack was really beginning to make his neck ache. XXXX Next stop: "Paws, Claws, Whiskers, Fins and Jaws", a downtown pet store. After all, Skinner reasoned, pot-bellied pigs were one thing, but ring-tailed lemurs were something else entirely. Trying to detach the creature from his neck was a task he didn't feel it was worth wasting time on, so he left it where it was while he went into the store. Monkey nuts, that's what he really needed. It wasn't asking for much, after all. Faced with a large display of own-brand dog food, however, he had to admit that reinforcements would come in handy. He collected a shopping cart and dropped a couple of cans into it, thinking as an aside that they looked rather good next to the blue plastic litter tray and bag of assorted squeaky toys. Six for $2.50! A bargain. The lemur, being of a naturally more impatient nature, chittered in his ear. "Monkey nuts," Skinner reminded himself and began to manoeuvre the cart dextrously through the aisles. On the way, he picked up a small hexagonal aquarium, with sand, pump and filters included, and a bag of absorbent bedding. Then he remembered something, and backtracked to pick up a couple of miniature Snapping Turtles. You never knew. By the time he reached the checkout, the cart was over half-full and the contents beginning to get restless. Skinner hoped the pig wouldn't object to sharing some of the trunk space with the turtles, as he needed the passenger seat for the lovebirds. He was pleased that he'd had the foresight to get new, longer seatbelts installed recently; they would just fit around the cage. To his surprise, Mulder was standing in the queue ahead of him and turned, as his boss arrived, to nod a casual greeting. "Evening, Sir. Fancy seeing you here." "Had to get some monkey nuts for my lemur," Skinner explained, and the other agent nodded understandingly. "Nice armadillo," the Assistant Director added enviously. Mulder blushed. "I just came in to pick it out," he admitted. "She's always wanted one." "'She'?" "Scully. She was talking about it earlier, and I thought "What the heck - I'll buy it for her". Just as well, it was the last one." "Good choice," Skinner grunted. "Wish I'd thought of it myself." "Yeah, but you've got such a cute lemur!" Mulder stepped up the checkout and paid for the armadillo, apparently not seeing the suspicious look the assistant on the till was giving him. "Sir, are you aware that you need a licence to own an animal like this?" Mulder, occupied in wrapping a couple of sheets of white packing paper around the wriggling creature, took his time answering the man. "Don't worry," he said blithely, finally scooping up the half-wrapped armadillo and tucking it under his arm, "I'm with the FBI." He patted the holstered Sig on his hip, winked at the assistant, and trotted out of the store. "It's okay," Skinner told the assistant. "I'm his superior and I can vouch for him." The young man looked as though he wanted to differ with this statement, seeing the curious assortment of livestock and equipment roaming loose in Skinner's shopping cart, not to mention the ring-tailed lemur crawling around his neck. But he'd been dealing with similar incidents all evening, and when he'd questioned his manager, he'd been assured that it was okay when there was an "R" in the month. He had five minutes to go until the end of his shift, so he let it pass and processed Skinner's purchases as fast as he could. Pleased with the results of his shopping spree, Skinner hurried outside and set about loading the goods into his car. XXXX He arrived home, sweating and out of sorts. Who would have thought that lovebirds could suffer from travel-sickness? He'd been forced to stop and put the lemur in the trunk as well, since it had refused to leave the light-switch and horn alone. Getting everything out of the car proved to be a bigger problem, and for several minutes Skinner was stumped. Finally, he tied the pig to the handrail on the steps of his apartment building, told it to guard the aquarium with the turtles inside, and managed to struggle indoors with the caged lovebirds, lemur and potted rubber plant - - Potted rubber plant? Where the hell had that come from? Skinner paused inside the door, and nearly got slapped on the rump by it as it closed sharply behind him. He didn't remember buying a rubber plant. He stared at it fixedly for a moment or two, then shrugged and carried on down the passage. What the hell - maybe the lovebirds would like it inside their cage. He swerved to avoid the Shetland pony outside his neighbour's apartment, and staggered around the corner as the heavy terracotta plant pot overbalanced him. He was so preoccupied with trying to get his keys out his pocket while holding the birdcage, that at first he didn't see Agent Scully. "Sir!" she cried, and he nearly dropped the lovebirds in surprise. Her face was radiant. "Sir, I've been waiting here for hours!" Was that something to be radiant about? Skinner eyed her uncertainly, and suddenly became aware that she was holding a leash. And the leash was attached to .... A pot-bellied pig. Skinner had to admit he was shaken. Scully didn't strike him as the kind of woman who kept pigs. But then, he'd never thought of himself as a rubber-plant man until tonight, either. All the same, it might pay to proceed with caution. "Agent Scully...?" She strode forward, the pig trotting along at her heels, and held out one hand. "Here, let me help you with that," she offered happily, and took the birdcage out of his hand. "We can talk inside." Okay, now he felt nervous. Mulder had been inside his apartment once or twice, very briefly, and on one of those occasions Krycek had ended up handcuffed to his balcony, but there were no precedents for Scully and a pot-bellied pig. He didn't have the facilities on his balcony for a pig, no matter what kind of international conspiracy it was working for. Skinner vaguely recalled reports of dolphins trained by the military, and wondered if this was a new variation - Mulder would know. "Where's Mulder?" he asked her uneasily. "He went to see Elvis at Wal-Mart," she explained. "Elvis is doing a gig at *Wal-Mart*?" Skinner was staggered. True, the King had been brought pretty low in the last years of his life, but there were some places no one would play at. "No, silly!" Scully gave him a dazzling smile and slapped his arm playfully. "He's stacking shelves until President Clinton has time to see him." "Oh! Well, if the President's dealing with it, that's okay." Skinner fished his keys out - then paused. "So why did I see Mulder at the pet store earlier?" he frowned. "Never mind Mulder!" Scully exclaimed impatiently. She snatched the keys out of his hand, and unlocked his apartment door for him. "Now get inside and get 'em off!" XXXX She was gone, and Skinner heaved a cautious sigh of relief. It could have been worse. All the same, he wouldn't have minded knowing why she wanted his suit, and when he was going to get it back. She'd even taken his shoes, and while he could live with the fact that her skirt and blouse didn't fit him properly, it was going to be a bitch trying to walk outside to collect the pig and turtles in a pair of four-inch heels that were at least six sizes too small for him. On top of that, she'd left her pig with him, and he only had enough spare beds for one. Oh well, Scully's pig would just have to sleep on the sofa tonight. Shaking his head, Skinner tottered outside to collect the pig and turtles, narrowly avoiding his neighbour's pony again. Said neighbour was waiting for him on the steps, however. "Your snake has eaten my cat!" she snapped accusingly. "Nonsense!" Skinner retorted. "I don't own a snake." He bent down to retrieve the aquarium with the turtles, and was brought up short by the sight of a medium-sized boa constrictor curled up inside it. There was an ominous lump in one of its coils. "Ah ...." "Oh, you don't own a snake, huh? So what's that?" "My wife's handbag?" he tried feebly. "*If* you ever had a wife, which I don't believe, because no woman in her senses would marry a man whose Donna Karan skirt doesn't fit properly, even she wouldn't try and duck out of her responsibilities by claiming her handbag did it!" the woman snarled. "Now are you going to replace my cat or not? Because if my husband gets home tonight, and there's nothing for his dinner, I'm sending him around to you for an explanation." There was only one way out of this that Skinner could see. "Would you accept a ring-tailed lemur instead?" XXXX When a man has been forced to give up his lemur, it goes hard on him and his thinking can't be expected to be entirely straight. That was Skinner's excuse for leaving the snake in the kitchen sink, anyway, and with the addition of the bag of absorbent bedding he'd picked up earlier, it looked quite comfortable. The lovebirds had fortunately taken a liking to the rubber plant, so by dint of standing on the coffee table, he managed to suspend their cage from a beam across the ceiling, and that was them sorted out. The aquarium was another matter, though. After some thought, Skinner set it up on the dining room table, added the pump, filters and sand, and finally the water. Something was missing. The fish. He wasn't sure he wanted another trip back to the pet store, which presented a few problems. Were there fish in the Reflecting Pool or Potomac? And if there were, did he have a net large enough? Of course, there was always net curtains, and he had a sieve in the kitchen. Problem solved. So Skinner gathered up a bucket, the sieve and a net curtain. He was almost out of the front door when he realised that leaving two pot-bellied pigs alone in the apartment together might not be a good idea. He backtracked and wasted another fifteen minutes trying to catch the two pigs. Finally, he had them both on leashes, and quit his apartment with a sigh of relief. The Reflecting Pool called. XXXX There were no fish in the Reflecting Pool *or* the Potomac. This was a severe setback, and Skinner had to admit to himself that he felt pretty discouraged by it. On top of that, he'd been shouted at by an employee of the city authorities, for letting his pigs root up the shrubs planted tastefully nearby. What was a man supposed to do? Pigs *do* root. In the end, he gathered up his sieve, net curtain and pigs, and decided he might just as well walk home. It was late; he was getting tired; and he still hadn't decided what to do with the empty aquarium. Then it came to him - Mulder! Mulder had fish. Perhaps he would share. Heartened by this, Skinner set off for his subordinate's apartment ... ... Unaware that he was being cautiously shadowed by a dark sedan. XXXX Mulder took his time answering the door, and when he did, it was in a cautious fashion, barely poking his head around the edge. Since this was behaviour Skinner had come to expect from him, he didn't bat an eyelid, merely being grateful that Mulder had made it back from Wal-Mart already. "What?" Mulder asked, giving the pigs a suspicious look. He was red-faced and sweating, and seemed less than pleased to see his superior. Skinner didn't blame him for eyeing the pigs with askance; their behaviour had been a source of embarrassment for the last half a mile. The grunting sounded particularly loud in the close confines of the hallway outside Mulder's apartment, and he hoped the neighbours were so used to odd behaviour from the occupant of no. 42 Hegal Place that they wouldn't come out and look. "I need fish," he said tersely. "Do you have any?" "Battered or crispy crumb?" "Goldfish - alive!" Skinner barked. "Don't piss me about, Mulder - I know you've got a tankful in there and I need them now!" "Look, sir," Mulder said placatingly, "this is a really bad time - " Skinner lost patience altogether, and planted one meaty hand in the middle of the door, giving it a solid shove. The door flew open, Mulder recoiled - and was fully revealed to the Assistant Director. He was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing a worn pair of jeans that looked as though they'd been put on in a hurry. But it wasn't Mulder Skinner found his eyes riveted to - it was the armadillo the younger agent was holding upside down, by the tail. The armadillo was wriggling frantically, and in its mouth was a woman's brassiere. For several endless moments, Skinner found it impossible to tear his eyes away. And when he did, he looked up and past Mulder into the sitting room - and saw Scully hanging upside down from the light fittings, wearing nothing but his very own suit trousers, the ones she'd run off with earlier. This was too much. There are some things Assistant Directors of the FBI are not meant to know. "Forget about the fish," he told Mulder hurriedly. "I think I'll just ... go." "Good idea," Mulder agreed and hustled him out of the door again as fast as a man who is holding an armadillo by the tail can. XXXX After that, Skinner decided he might just as well go home. It had been a strange evening, and he still had to decide where the second pig was going to sleep. With a sigh, he set off in the direction of his apartment. Meanwhile, the dark sedan that had been following him slowed down and pulled up at the curb. The two men sitting inside watched with interest as the tall, balding, bespectacled man in four inch heels and a Donna Karan suit trudged up the street towing two pot-bellied pigs and a bucket containing net curtains and a kitchen sieve behind him. On the dashboard in front of them was a small device with a dial and a set of speakers which exuded an extraordinary range of noises coming from the inside of apartment 42, Hegal Place. One man was holding a small palmtop computer which he occasionally fiddled with. "It's cool, I'll grant you," Krycek told the older man next to him, who was languidly smoking a cigarette, "but the range is kind of dodgy - too many other people kept getting caught up with it. And *is* being killed with shame as effective as the nano-whatsits we used before?" The Smoking Man smiled slowly. "Relax. We have only to wait until tomorrow morning, when the effects wear off, to find out." Finis Feedback will always have a warm reception at my house. Thanks for reading :-) ----------------------- Internet Header -------------------------------- Sender: owner-x-files-fanfic@lists.x-philes.com Received: from humbug-3.soho.enteract.com (humbug-3.soho.enteract.com [207.229.163.235]) by spamgaae.compuserve.com (8.9.3/8.9.3/SUN-1.7) with SMTP id WAA05802 for <74720.1275@compuserve.com>; Mon, 8 Nov 1999 22:45:58 -0500 (EST) Received: (qmail 24610 invoked by uid 1000); 9 Nov 1999 03:27:25 -0000 Delivered-To: majordom-og-x-files-fanfic@chaos.x-philes.com Received: (qmail 24600 invoked by uid 1111); 9 Nov 1999 03:27:24 -0000 Delivered-To: lists-x-files-fanfic-outgoing@chaos.x-philes.com Received: (qmail 24574 invoked by uid 1000); 9 Nov 1999 03:27:22 -0000 Received: (qmail 5787 invoked from network); 5 Nov 1999 18:21:34 -0000 Received: from finch-post-10.mail.demon.net (194.217.242.38) by humbug-3.soho.enteract.com with SMTP; 5 Nov 1999 18:21:34 -0000 Received: from wills2.demon.co.uk ([212.228.47.94] helo=helenwil) by finch-post-10.mail.demon.net with smtp (Exim 2.12 #1) id 11jnzQ-0006wK-0A for xff-atxc@lists.x-philes.com; Fri, 5 Nov 1999 18:21:32 +0000 Message-ID: <001a01bf27ba$d2f90a40$5e2fe4d4@helenwil> From: "Helen Wills" To: "XF Fanfic List XF/atxc posts" Subject: Two Pig Night [1/1] by Helen Wills Date: Fri, 5 Nov 1999 18:23:12 -0000 MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Mailer: Microsoft Outlook Express 4.72.2106.4 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V4.72.2106.4 Sender: owner-x-files-fanfic@lists.x-philes.com Precedence: bulk Restrict: no-external-archive