"So? I like this music. It's jazz. It's Johnny Mercer, for chrissake, Alex, and we're not
turning this off." Mulder stared intently at the road. He had insisted on driving.
Especially in their delicate condition, he did not trust Alex with the wheel of an
automobile.
"Johnny Mercer...? Didn't he do that 'shot a man in Reno...' song?"
"That's Johnny Cash, you halfwit," Mulder's tempting lips parted only slightly to
reply, not even wanting to give Krycek the honor, "and besides, what musical
landmark would you choose to grace us with, ratling?"
"Ratling!" Krycek grinned and pretended to shudder in half-delight, half
intimidation, "that is so...so...fitting! Mulder, you're gonna make me blush,"
dropping the charade quickly, Alex returned to his former state of being
nonchalantly difficult. He grunted as he attempted to find a way to adequately
position his wings around the seat and prop his knees against the dashboard.
"Whoever had this van before us left some great CD's...there's some Beastie Boys,
some Kula Shaker, some-oo-Mulder, we've got Bowie!"
Suddenly, Mulder let out a nerve-racking shriek, cutting the wheel sharply to the
side as he slammed on the brakes. Alex braced himself against the dashboard as
they lurched to a screeching stop, covering himself with the crown of his wings.
"What the fuck!!!! Mulder! Chill! It's pre-'Dancin in the Streets'! It's good stuff!!!"
"No! No!" Mulder rested a hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath. If Krycek
weren't so confused and determined to find out the cause of the disturbance, he'd
have taken the time to admire the arousing way Mulder's wings bobbed up and
down in time with the heaving muscles in his chest.—Actually, to hell with what
happened, this is far more interesting.....—. But of course his reverie was interrupted.
"Something-something just fell out of the sky!! Right in the middle of the road! I had
to swerve to avoid hitting it! Something very large! Very very large, Alex! Alex, I—"
Almost instinctively, Krycek reached out to pull Mulder's head against his chest. The
man was shaking. An FBI Agent who had faced down certain death hundreds of
times, and he was shaking with fear. Did this have something to do with being the
undead? And what was he babbling on about, anyway?!—I've got something very
large for you right here,—Alex thought with a creeping smile. He waited for a
response, and when Mulder didn't read his thoughts, he decided to gently imply his
piece verbally.
"You smell good," Krycek muttered as he stroked Mulder's hair in an attempt to
calm him. But of course this was too much at the wrong time, and Mulder broke
away, leaning into the van's door as he pushed it open and stumbled into the road.
Unable to believe that Mulder, at his sexiest moment in years, had just escaped his
embrace, Krycek remained in the car to pout. That's when he heard Mulder's voice,
loud and clear and quite broken with disbelief.
"Holy SHIT!!"
Mulder. Screaming. Mulder. Afraid! Mulder. In trouble? Alex scrambled out of the
car, not able to bear the thought that some unwelcome intruder would go so far as
to even place a hand on his Angel Fox, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw
what Mulder was staring at.
A second pair of wings, slightly more decrepit and almost definitely singed with
smoke, unfolded from a figure who was just coming to on the asphalt below. At
first Alex did not recognize the smallness of the figure, the paleness of the skin, and
the authoritative lilt of the voice as she moaned in pain, but as soon as he heard the
newest fallen angel cry out:
"Jesus H. Christ, that hurt like FUCK!"
He knew they were looking at an all new and improved version of Dana Katherine
Scully.
Krycek and Mulder glanced at each other, neither able to believe what was
struggling to her feet, wearing a pair of black pleather cigarette pants and a tiger
skin halter top.—
Scully?!—Krycek thought.—
It must be. I guess she changed a bit in the afterlife.—Mulder replied.—
But the bitch was an atheist!——
That may explain a few things...—
"Well. Thank you so kindly for helping a lady regain her bearings, you
cocksuckers!!!" Dana finally sauntered toward them, barely balancing on a pair of
spike-heeled black boots. As she came closer, both men noticed that her eyes were
lined in thick pitch black and she looked entirely...—
Amazing.—Thought Alex, nodding approvingly.
Mulder looked over at his far erstwhile partner, with an abandoned look of utter
rejection.—
I mean in a non-fuckable way, Foxy.—He clarified. This calmed Mulder a bit as
they proceeded to interrogate the new arrival.
"God damn, you two look like Grade A nimrods," Scully said, pulling a cigarette
from her bra and placing it between her ruddy lips. After patting herself down a
moment, she let out a nondescript expletive and asked, flatly, "either of you got a
light?"
In synchronization, Alex and Mulder shook their heads.
"Okay, fine, if you want something done right," to the enchantment, shock, and
absolutely freaked-out-beyond-recognition of the two speechless gentlemen, Scully
snapped her fingers and ignited a small, blueish flame from the tip of her black
painted nail. Using this to light her cigarette, she peeked over to behold the
incredulous looks.
"How did you—" Mulder finally pointed and began to speak.
"Shut up. I'll explain it all," Scully said, taking a long drag for effect (and nicotine
supplement), "I'm heree as an archangel. They won't really technically let me in
heaven but I'm down here to do the dirty work."
"So why the grand entrance?" Mulder asked.
"I wanted to catch up to you guys and this was the easiest way."
"Why the two dollar crack whore getup?" Alex smirked.
Dana held the cigarette at shoulder's height, between two fingers, as she narrowed
her eyes at the leather-clad angel. Pure sex or not, he was an annoying little
arsehole. "Fuck you." She said simply.
"No, really, Alex and I have some idea of how to get back into heaven. We might
need you to help us, Scully." Mulder explained quickly, eager to stall any impending
argument ('stall' being the operative word, since Scully and Krycek had never really
gotten their chance to... er... let out their aggravation with one another on the mortal
plane, and something was bound to hit the fan sooner or later).
"Yeah, yeah, I've been monitoring you two. 'Fuck each others brains out.' Oh, gee,
great plan, guys. If you don't mind my saying so, you're really going into this with
all flags flying."
Her sarcasm was overwhelming.
"Well, we—" Krycek started to defend their strategy when Scully interrupted yet
again.
"And besides, how could I help with that?" She looked over at the two, and, upon
realization, fell into a deep, squinting leer. "Oh, God. You don't want be to join in,
do you?"
Immediately, Alex and Mulder began waving their hands and shouting "No!" "That's
not it!" and "Don't worry!"
At last Mulder was able to get a word in edgewise. "Scully, you can help us by being
our middle man-er—woman... anyway! Talk to heaven for us! See what you can do!
Please!?"
"Mulder, really, what do you expect me to do..." she started walking toward the van,
"got air conditioning in this thing? Good. Do you expect me to walk up to God and
go 'Hey, Mulder and the Oily Guy are gonna just stay down there for a while and
make wild, passionate, orgasmic love, then they're coming back, that cool?'
Umm.... NO!"
She turned around, and, for some reason, looked right at Krycek. He only smield
back indifferently. "I don't really care what the hell you do, I just want his cock in
my mouth in as little time as possible. So if you don't MIND... we're getting back on
the road right now!"
They hustled into the van as Mulder suddenly asked, "Scully, you know God?"
"And he knows me as 'Oily Guy'?"
Back Door to Heaven III
by Shadow Omega
The Second Epistle of Shadow Omega
We are each of us angels with only one wing, to fly we need only embrace each
other.
~ Source Unknown~
"Mulder. Seriously." Alex pointed at the radio, taking a moment of his fascination
with the prodigious paper clip chain found in the vehicle's glove compartment in
order to comment on his companion's taste in music.
