Title:       Mulder at the Kiss
Author:      Tim Scott
Email:       tscott@fix.net
Rating:      G
Category:    H

Summary:     Don't get me started.

Disclaimer:  With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer...




The outlook wasn't brilliant for the X-Files-Man that day,
For Scully'd just been carted out in sickly disarray.
And then, when he got worried and the driver shot him down --
He knew, just *knew* the pricks were heading way, way out of town.

He woke to Gunmen in his room, a pounding head, and then
His boss arrived and it got worse.  And naturally there were men
Outside his sickroom door.  So then the only thing to do
Was strip poor Byers down so someone else would feel bad too.

When finally, rescue-bound, but intercepted by that Brit
Who, even more than Phoebe, made him truly want to spit
Determined, then and there, that he'd *finally* get a piece
He vowed when this was done he'd have his nose in Scully's fleece!

Now, on the endless rescue trip t'was tons of time to think.
To remember girls that got away, and other ones, and drink.
He thought of Bambi Berenbaum and shook his head again --
She'd surely been a knockout.  (Oh, admit it, man!  A ten!)

Then from within his weary brain there rose a lusty yell.
It jump-started his id and blew his conscience straight to hell.
It stiffened up his groin and made both his heads to swim --
For Scully, Dana Scully, was the only one for him!

[Ridiculous!] his Ego said.  [Why not Detective White?]
[Come now,] his Superego said, [she wasn't very bright.]
[Screw 'bright' -- and did you see those *legs*?  Is something wrong
with you?
D'you *want* to blow our chances?  Is that what you want to do?]

[Don't be a fool,] came the reply, [I'm on your side, you know.]
But Ego wasn't daunted and he quickly said, [If so,
Explain this thing with Krycek.]  Superego mumbled, [Well,
I don't have *all* the answers.  You can just go right to hell.]

[And what about Samantha?  Have you just forgotten her?]
Superego got so mad that everyting became a blur.
[And just how do you suggest I tell the real one from a clone?]
But answer came there none -- all Ego could do was groan.

Then from his lusty underbrain there came a wicked thought:
[Hey, how 'bout Diana Fowley?  She's right here in town, she's hot!]
[She's in Intensive Care, you sod!  How could you even think...?]
[Sorry, boys.  You're right.], Id said.  [I've had too much to drink.]

And when the plane had landed and he'd caught his charter flight
Then Mulder sat and planned a scorching soon-to-come Big Night --
And on the Ice, in his sno-cat, grinned like a crocodile
For he knew Scully soon would want to smile and smile and smile.

And now he's gotten Dana out from her deep-frozen state,
But now she's going into shock and there's no time to wait.
He uses CPR on her with maybe too much brawn,
She coughs, and blinks, and then she softly murmurs, "John?"

The gleam is gone from Mulder's eye but he attempts a smile.
He shivers with frustration but is cordial all the while.
He wonders where ol' Phoebe is, and if it's not too late.
He wonders if he still knows how to find a decent date.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in DC -- "Spooky" Mulder has struck out.