Scully was checking her lipstick in the rearview mirror, wondering
what she had been thinking when she bought this particular shade.
Practically fuchsia. And why the hell did she have it in her
purse in the first place? Along with the four other lipsticks she
had found, half of a roll of dusty Certs, a ticket stub from a movie
she had seen six months ago, and, of all things, a Scooby Doo
Band-Aid. She had no idea where that had came from. The glove
compartment was even less interesting, although she had plotted her
way alphabetically through Montana. That had been fun.
And Mulder, who had said he would be "right back", had now been gone
for, she checked her watch for the 800th time, 37 minutes. She
should just go up there and see what was taking him so long. He was
acting slightly... odd. Not that it was unusual at all for her
partner. Still...
They had been on their way, following up on a tip—then a very brief
phone call had Mulder driving like a maniac back to his apartment,
saying he had to get something, but he would be "right back".
Someone should explain to him exactly what "right back" meant.
Didn't mean 37 and a half minutes; that's for sure.
Maybe it was one of his sources. That would explain the twitchy
behavior. Still, sure was taking a long time. Wouldn't hurt to
check...
She was in the process of wiping off her lipstick when she saw a blur
in the mirror.
Mulder yanked the driver's side door open with considerable force,
jumped in, and all but hung himself attempting to fasten the seat
belt.
"Okay! Ready to go? I'm ready to go! Let's go!"
"No, Mulder, I think I'd rather sit here for another half-an-hour,"
she grumbled. "It's fun. I still have maps left."
He slouched in his seat as he pulled out into traffic, looking
suitably ashamed.
"What was the holdup? You said you were going to be right back. And
who was that on the phone anyway?"
"Oh. Humane Society. They were coming to seize my fish. Seems
there have been reports of mistreatment. Bastards were trying to
break up our happy home."
Scully shot him a venomous glare.
"Actually, that was my landlord. My waterbed sprung another leak,"
he shrugged. "Gonna have to get rid of that dinosaur, although it's
so cozy on those cold winter nights. I put down a few pots and
pans. Should be fine till we get back."
"And that took 37 minutes."
"Well, I don't have a lot of pots and pans. I had to ask around.
And you know how well I get along with the rest of my neighbors."
She was silent for a moment, looking at all the shops going by.
Mulder sighed, relieved that the topic was closed for further
discussion.
"Was it a source? Were you meeting with a source? Because I really
should be in on those meetings. Surely there isn't anything they
tell you that they can't tell me..."
"No, it wasn't a source," he quickly cut her off. "And don't call
me Shirley."
Scully rolled her eyes. "Geeze, Mulder, if I didn't know better, I'd
say you were meeting with your crack dealer."
"Hilarious."
"Seriously, what were you doing?"
"Mopping up several gallons of water. That's what I was doing."
"Come on! You can tell me. I've missed lunch to follow up on this
tip, and then you make me sit in the car and wait. You owe me the
truth."
Mulder had a bad feeling about where this line of questioning was
going. He should have his bags packed and ready to board the Guilt
Trip Express. What the hell. He'd been wanting to get this off his
chest for a while now. No time like the present.
"Fine, Scully. You really want to know what I was doing?"
"Isn't that what I've been asking?"
"Okay, okay..."
He paused. She wasn't sure if it was for dramatic effect or he was
just stalling for time so he could put together yet another line of
bull for her perusal.
"It's like this; I had lent something to someone, and they wanted to
return it. That's it."
"It took 37 minutes for someone to return something they had
borrowed?" Scully's forehead furrowed. "Was it a big thing? Heavy
thing?"
"Nope. Not big or heavy. If you really must know, it was an article
of clothing. A personal article of clothing."
"A personal article of clothing? How personal are we talking?"
Mulder mumbled something she couldn't understand.
"Didn't quite get that."
He cleared his throat. "Underwear. It was underwear. Happy now?"
"Getting there." She smirked. "So, you've been lending your dates
undergarments? Aren't they a little big?"
"Well, he's almost the same size I am, so..."
"Wait a minute. `He's' almost the same size?" Scully sat for a
moment. "He? Well, aren't you just full of surprises. I had no
idea. Well, actually that's not true..."
"What? Not even this shocks you?" He gave her a sideways glance,
trying to judge her true reaction. "I must be losing my touch."
Mulder stopped for a moment, seeming to deliberate with himself. He
grinned at her. "I bet I could still shock you."
She was unimpressed. "Give me your best shot, Spooky."
"The person borrowing my underwear is none other than Alex Krycek."
Scully's eyes widened—then she snorted. "Yeah, good one. Almost
had me. Consider your touch firmly intact. Krycek. Right." Mulder
and his famous morbid sense of humor. This almost topped the story
about his date with a "real" vampire.
"It's the truth. Alex Krycek. We've been exclusive for almost a
year now."
"Uh huh, you and Krycek. Whatever."
"Really."
"You and back-stabbing, lying, traitor Alex Krycek."
"That's the guy."
"Gee, Mulder, I don't know when I gave you the impression I was
gullible." She sat for a moment, wondering how she was going to get
what actually happened out of him. "Besides. He's way out of your
league."
"Wha?" He smiled. He couldn't believe he was actually discussing
Alex with Scully. This was just too good. "He is so in my league.
In fact we play for the same team. We take turns pitching and
catching." He gave her a wink.
"Bleah! Spare me the gory details of your so-called love affair,
would you?"
"You don't believe me, Scully? I'm hurt. Deeply wounded. I may
cry. Besides, it's his fault the waterbed is leaking in the first
place. He had decided he didn't want to give the underwear back
after all, and a struggle commenced. They're my favorite pair."
Mulder pouted.
"Oh, yes, I completely and totally believe you and Krycek are
desperately in love, to the point of wearing each other's underwear.
I wouldn't be at all surprised to see you two walking down the
isle someday soon."
"Really? You really think he'd say yes?" He got a dreamy look in
his eyes.
This was almost too much, she thought. What the hell is he hiding?
Mulder could spin a fine tale when he had good enough reason, but
this—he was really selling it. She wished she had something to
throw. Where were those Certs...
He continued, lost in his own thoughts and unaware of the impending
attack. "It's funny you should say that. I've been thinking of
asking for some kind of...um... commitment or something. I just
don't know how he would take it. I mean, I love him, I think he
loves... no, I know he loves me, but..."
He stopped when he heard Scully viciously rummaging through her
purse, muttering something under her breath. She looked up at him,
noticing the silence. He gave her his best earnest smile.
"Feel better now, Mulder?"
"Actually, yes. Yes I do. So, you want to hear how I managed to get
my underwear back?"
"No!" She decided she couldn't care less what he had been doing
earlier. As long as it wasn't Krycek. She had a sudden desire to
completely derail that train of thought. "Isn't this the turn?"
"Crap!" Mulder swerved into the turn lane at the last minute,
severely pissing off the semi behind them. "Thanks."
The medical supply warehouse was looming in the immediate distance.
Time to end this particular discussion. "You sure you have enough
pots and pans. We could be here awhile if we don't find the
canisters right away."
Pots and pans? Pots and pans? "Pardon?"
"For the leak. Do you think you have enough pots and pans to hold it
till we get back? The entrance is on the right, just park here."
"Oh! Yes, the leak in the waterbed that my landlord was calling me
about. Yes, I think everything should be fine." He stopped the car
and pocketed the keys. Well, he had tried. Can't say he didn't try.
"Gah. Looks like a set from a horror movie."
"You said it. Well, maybe it's cheerier inside. Let's go find this
Frank guy, see if he's still interested in talking to us." Mulder's
cell phone chirped.
She gave him a wry look. "Probably your landlord again. You take
that, I'll go see if I can find Frank." She opened the door,
shivering as she took in the massive building. Oh, well, she
thought. Something to take her mind off Mulder's recent tall tale.
Mulder watched her go inside before unfolding the phone. "Mulder."
"Hi. So, how late were you?"
"Late enough. Don't worry, Scully was fine with it."
"Really? What did you tell her?"
"The truth. All of it."
"You told her everything? About us? I don't believe it."
Mulder wondered when he had managed to ruin his credibility. With
everyone. "Really, everything. Absolutely everything."
"And she didn't shoot you? Impressive, I must say."
"Well, I was driving at the time."
"That explains it. Oh, I patched up the waterbed. Good as new.
Until next time anyway."
"Thanks. Look, I don't want to leave Scully hanging for the second
time today, and those canisters aren't going to find themselves.
What did you want, Alex?"
Lying Effectively
by Kashmir
The first way to lie artistically is to tell the truth—but not all
of it. The second way involves telling the truth, too, but is harder:
Tell the exact truth and maybe all of it . . but to tell it so
unconvincingly that your listener is sure you are lying.
—Time Enough for Love—Robert Heinlein
