Title: Mishaps I: A Pair of UFOs
Author: Vesper (Regina)
E-mail: vespertanmer@yahoo.com
Warnings: none
Category: SH
Summary: What do you get when you cross shoes and a FBI agent?
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making any profit. Get off my back.
Oops, sound a little angry there. Sorry. (Hanging my head
abjectly.)
Archival: If you wish to archive, please link to my website.
Please keep all my headers intact.

*

What a day, thought Dana Scully as she sat down carefully at her
desk. Nursing the cup of coffee she'd just retrieved, she
contemplated _that_ poster. _I want to believe_, in bold white
capital letters across the bottom. A simple statement made
ridiculous by the slightly flattened spherical, blurry object
above a group of pine trees.

Scully smiled, despite the awful situations she'd found herself
in that day. Especially at how that macaroni and cheese had
turned her friend Kathy's blouse into an interesting imitation of
a Monet painting. She'd apologized, profusely, yet she had taken
a perverse pleasure at the look on Kathy's face. Just the memory
of it was enough to make her laugh. Then she winced. Her shoes
were killing her feet through pinch torture. She'd hoped to
break them in today--bad idea. She reached down to take them
off, and paused.

An outrageous thought had popped into her head. She smiled and
it widened to a mischievous grin as she said, "Who cares?" She
loosened them, then leaned back in her chair and kicked, sending
the shoe flying. It hit the door to the office with a solid,
satisfying thump.

"Yes! Goal!"

She smiled again, more devilishly this time, aimed, kicked, and
sent the remaining to follow its companion...

...as the door opened...

...and the shoe hit her partner, Fox Mulder (to whom the
improbable poster belonged) right between his eyes.

He fell like a stone dropped from the leaning tower of Pisa.

Scully stared in shock for a moment before rushing over to him,
doctor instincts taking over.

He dazedly looked at her and said, "I'm not in heaven, am I?"

"Good, you're okay."

Her somewhat cold answer brought him back from where he'd been.
He stood and rubbed his forehead.

"What was that, Scully?"

She held up the offending object. "My shoe. I'm sorry, Mulder.
I was trying to unwind."

"In that case, feel free to launch your UFOs. Just warn me to
duck, okay?"

"Sure, Mulder."

End.