Author's Notes: Special thanks to Joey for the encouragement, 
and a huge thanks to Rachelle for some out of the blue 
feedback that got me going again! :-)  
 
Category: PG-13, to be on the safe side...  
 
Feedback: You betcha! Love it! Need it! Gimme, gimme, 
gimme! (as long as it's friendly...) 
My addy is gaby@gaby.slashcity.tv  
 
My home is at: http://gaby.slashcity.tv  
 
Disclaimer: They're mine! All MINE!!! CC and consorts - eat 
your hearts out!!! Just kidding - no money, no rights, no 
infringement, but lotsa fun!!!  
 
Summary: It's Friday, and everything's looking rosy for the 
weekend - until Mulder pulls one of his famous stunts, and 
drags the AD down with him...  

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
 
In The Lioness's Den  
 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
 
by Gaby
 
 
 
Chapter 5: TGIF  
 
 
I hate muffins.  
 
Since Monday, there has been a freshly made muffin waiting 
for me on my desk when I arrive at the office. I just know who's 
responsible for it! At least Mulder gives me some variety - I had 
a different flavor each day.  
 
Monday I was surprised to find the muffin on my desk, and I 
thought it would be a coincidence. Kim sometimes bakes 
cookies or a cake for me, so why not muffins? When I 
congratulated her on it she looked at me blankly. That was 
when I knew something was up.  
 
Tuesday - another muffin. I suspected something but didn't let it 
show.  
 
Wednesday I called Mulder into my office but he feigned 
innocence, of course. So I decided to play private eye.  
 
Thursday I went to work at six in the morning. I know this is 
ridiculous. Not that this is such an unusual hour for me to start 
my day at the office, mind you, but I don't have that much work 
to do right now so I can live in abundant luxury and show up at 
the Hoover around eight. I decided to lay low in my en-suite 
bathroom, waiting for Mulder to pick my office door lock, and 
that way to catch him in the act. When I opened my door I saw 
a muffin already waiting on my desk.  
 
So now I'm sitting here, a day later, playing with a banana-nut 
muffin, grinning to myself. Mulder. It's gonna be so much fun to 
play with him again this weekend! I really don't know how I 
managed to get through the entire week without him or Scully 
but I guess those muffins actually helped a little.  
 
I miss Scully terribly. She's still at Quantico, and will be for 
some time. That, of course, depresses the hell out of Mulder. 
He has been sulking away for most of the week down in the 
basement. Just as well. That way he doesn't cause any trouble. 
Or migraines.  
 
Scully gave me that stupid butt plug when she dropped me off 
at Viva Towers last Sunday. She told me to use it every so 
often to keep me stretched. I guess she wants to play some 
more with my butt this weekend. I grin to myself again. God, I 
can't wait to see her again! Actually, I guess I'd even like to try 
out playing with Mulder a bit more...intimately. Only one week 
ago I never would've thought I'd say something like that. Look 
how far I've come!  
 
When I left our little safe haven Scully gave me an extra key to 
the house. I can go there whenever I like, with or without them. 
That's a nice enough thought. I didn't go there during this week, 
mind you, but it's nice to know that I can.  
 
Mulder was his normal self again Sunday night. It's amazing. 
Scully actually helped him through his ordeal. Of course now he 
is that trying, irritating, infuriating agent again. But I kinda like 
that about him. Don't tell him that, though.  
 
I glance at my watch. Almost two pm. Only a few more hours 
before I can go home. Or I could drive to our house. I packed 
an overnight bag just to be on the safe side. We decided to 
meet Saturday morning because Scully is working late today. I 
sigh contentedly. Could life get any better than this?  
 
That is when the phone rings. 
*****
 
So, now I'm sitting in some stupid little police station in some 
stupid little town in rural Maryland, waiting for my run-away 
charge to show up. I just knew this was too good to be true! 
Damn that man!  
 
I've spent several hours telling some stupid little police officer 
that Mulder was working undercover and that I authorize each 
and every step that he took. Whenever I didn't know what else 
to say I just reminded this dim-wit that the whole thing was an 
on-going investigation of national importance and that I wasn't 
allowed to reveal any further information. Of course he wasn't 
supposed to write any reports, either. Could've endangered the 
entire operation, after all. I guess my patented AD stare made 
an impression because all charges were dropped and all 
incriminating evidence was swept under the carpet.  
 
I have no idea what it was that Mulder did in the first place.  
 
It's almost midnight now.  
 
Mulder enters the room I'm sitting in, escorted by that dim-wit, 
wearing his 'I'm on a mission and I look really cool and 
dangerous in black!' outfit. He gives me a blinding smile, relief 
clearly showing on his face.  
 
"Sir, I'm so glad you're here! I take it everything has worked out 
just fine?" He looks at me beseechingly. "I mean, I did tell 
Officer Ramsey here that I wasn't allowed to disclose any 
information because it's a covert operation and all but..." Mulder 
gives me a 'please tell me you're backing me up on that crap!' 
look.  
 
"Everything's fine, Agent Mulder. I sorted things out."  
 
Mulder sighs in relief. "Thank you, sir." At least he has the 
decency to look contrite.  
 
I turn to that half-wit, Officer Ramsey. "Can we go now?" He 
nods, so I grab Mulder and propel him out of the police station 
and towards my car. Since he was picked up by a patrol I have 
to take him home, anyway. 
 
As soon as we're on the road, Mulder turns to me, grinning 
broadly. "That was so cool," he enthuses. "At first I thought I'd 
be in deep shit but then I thought I'd just tell 'em I'm under 
cover, right, and that my boss would back me up on this. I 
mean, I know you're a smart fella, Walter. And apparently you 
caught on rather quickly 'cause I'm out of the jam!" He leans 
over and gives me a peck on my cheek. "Thanks, Muffin!"  
 
I step on the brakes so hard that my car sways precariously. 
Mulder looks at me alarmed, his eyes going wide.  
 
"Let me get one thing straight, *Agent Mulder*," I say, trying to 
sound calm. I'm not succeeding. "What you just pulled was 
completely uncalled for. More than that, it was dangerous. 
Against the rules! You've jeopardized not only your own, but 
also my career! Don't *ever* do that again!"  
 
Mulder stares at me for a moment before turning to look out of 
the window, in full pout mode. I don't believe this! *He* is angry 
with *me* because I just chewed him out a little? For what *he* 
pulled off, mind you! I shake my head in disbelief. This is 
outrageous!  
 
"Okay, Mulder, I think we need to have a little talk," I say firmly.  
 
Mulder turns his head and glares at me. "What's to talk about? 
Nothing happened. I'm okay. Let's just drive home." He turns 
back towards the window.  
 
Fine. Have it your way. I start driving again and try to come up 
with a sure-fire way to get him to talk. And to understand. I 
mean, he really did something incredibly stupid! At least I think 
so. I still don't know what exactly he did in the first place!  
 
"Mulder, what do you think Scully will have to say about that?"  
 
Mulder's head jerks around, panic showing in his eyes. "You're 
not going to tell her, are you?" he asks, rather frightened.  
 
I shrug non-chalantly. "Well, I think she should know. After all, 
she's not there to keep an eye on you right now, being tied up at 
Quantico and all, so I think it's only fair..."  
 
"NO!" Mulder yells. He takes a deep breath and continues, 
somewhat calmer. "Look, she really doesn't need to know. I 
mean, nothing happened, right?"  
 
"Apart from you being arrested by the police for B & E? No, 
nothing happened," I retort sarcastically. He sighs. "So tell me 
about that nothing that didn't happen," I prompt.  
 
Mulder murmurs something that I can't decipher. After receiving 
a patented AD frown, Mulder repeats, louder, "I was, um, 
conducting some background checks. See? Nothing fancy. No 
need to worry Scully..."  
 
"What kind of background checks, Mulder?"  
 
Mulder sinks lower in his seat and stares at his hands that are 
twisting in his lap. "About Mrs Davis," he mumbles.  
 
Mrs Davis? The name sounds familiar but somehow I can't 
place the name. Then it dawns on me. The blue-haired dragon 
lady from next door. "Why were you snooping around Mrs 
Davis?" I bellow. Mulder flinches.  
 
"I think she's working for the Consortium, and I was gonna..." 
Mulder stops when he sees me taking out my cell phone. "What 
are you doing?" he asks nervously.  
 
"I'm chopping wood, stupid! What does it look like I'm doing? I'm 
calling Scully!"  
 
Next thing I know, Mulder is all over me, grabbing my cell 
phone furiously. My car almost swivels off the road, and I have 
to use both hands to keep us on the street. Naturally, Mulder 
has my phone now. I hold out my hand.  
 
"Give it back, Mulder. You're in enough trouble, anyway. Just 
hand it over."  
 
Mulder shoves my cell phone in the back pocket of his black 
jeans. Hmm. Almost there. "I said, hand it over, Mulder!" I click 
my fingers angrily but Mulder just raises his chin defiantly and 
goes back into full pout mode.  
 
"Look, Walter, just give me a few minutes and I can explain all 
about Mrs Davis. And I can also convince you to keep your 
mouth shut. Scully really doesn't need to know!"  
 
I stare at him in disbelief, and start to waver when I see the plea 
in his eyes. After a moment I make up my mind.  
 
"Okay, hot-shot. When we get to our house I'll give you ten 
minutes. After that I'll call Scully. Unless you've convinced me, 
which I seriously doubt. Take it or leave it."  
 
Mulder thinks for a moment, then he nods. I take the next exit to 
drive to our safe haven. 
*****
 
"Okay, I'm with you so far. So, you think Mrs Davis is spying on 
you for the Smoker. Fine. I can live with that. I don't necessarily 
have to believe it but I'm game. Now tell me, what does that 
have to do with breaking into a house in rural Maryland, 
terrorizing a sweet old lady who almost had a heart attack when 
she saw you falling flat on your face while you were entering 
through her den's window and got tangled up in the curtains?"  
 
We are in our house. Have been for more than an hour. I still 
haven't called Scully though I promised myself to listen to 
Mulder's cock and bull story for ten minutes tops. This man is 
just fascinating. He can keep going and going, like that 
Energizer bunny. Now there's a thought. I have to bite my 
tongue hard so I don't giggle.  
 
Mulder starts pacing the living room again. "Who said anything 
about falling flat on my face? I didn't fall flat on my face! I was 
merely..."  
 
"Get to the point, Mulder!"  
 
"Oh, all right." Mulder sighs heavily and runs a hand over his 
tired face. Then he looks at the empty beer bottle in his other 
hand before pointing at mine. "Want another one?" he asks.  
 
I shrug and hand over my empty bottle. Mulder comes back a 
minute later with two cold beers. I realize that he is slightly 
swaying and that he doesn't really make a bee-line towards me. 
Not that he isn't trying. I guess he had a little too much. Can't 
blame him, though. After all, if Scully finds out there'll be hell to 
pay, and I remember last weekend. That wasn't pretty.  
 
Taking another swig of my own beer I suddenly realize that 
Mulder isn't the only one swaying. I wait until the room has 
stopped swirling around me before I focus on the man in front 
of me. Who looks at me searchingly.  
 
"What?" I ask, confused.  
 
"Well," Mulder prompts.  
 
"Well, what?" I retort. We stare at each other for a minute or 
two, uncertain what our next move should be. I think Mulder has 
deliberately tried to get me drunk. Hmm. All that hard thinking 
makes me thirsty, and I take another swig, throwing back my 
head in the process. I lose my balance and almost fall off the 
couch.  
 
Mulder finds this incredibly funny and laughs so hard that he 
drops to the floor in a heap. I start laughing as well though I don't 
know why. I just think that everything is kinda funny right now.  
 
After sharing such a good laugh together Mulder and I decide 
that we have to have another round, so he gets up (finally 
succeeding on his third try) and staggers towards the kitchen.  
 
"Damn!" he shouts from the other room.  
 
"What?" I yell back.  
 
"No more beer! Think we should go get some more?"  
 
"Don't drink and drive, Mulder. We have to come up with 
something else..."  
 
Mulder appears in the doorway, hanging on to it desperately to 
keep himself from falling. "Maybe I should go and ask Mrs 
Davis. I'm sure she's got liquor stored away big time!" He 
giggles hysterically, almost losing his precious hold on the 
doorway in the process. I start laughing hard again. Yeah, I bet 
Dragon Lady has 'em all stored away - Jim and Jack and 
Johnny!  
 
Then I abruptly stop. Hmm. Mrs Davis. Wasn't there something 
I wanted to know regarding Mrs Davis? I wonder what it was...  
 
Whatever it is, it'll come to me later, I'm sure, so I shrug. Which 
isn't a very smart move because I'm not very steadfast right 
now and the slightest movement causes me to lose my 
balance. I let myself drop to the floor, leaning my back on the 
couch for further support.  
 
Suddenly Mulder appears in front of me; I think he has too 
much forward momentum because it looks like he won't be able 
to stop before running into me. Somehow he manages to stop 
on a dime, and I look up to him, which only makes me dizzy 
again. Bad move.  
 
"I have a wonderful idea, Walter," Mulder announces solemnly, 
the beer sheen on his face making him glow. 
 
I wait a few moments before I can focus my eyes on him. Then 
I frown. "What wonderful idea?"  
 
Mulder raises his index finger, poking the air, as if trying to 
make a point. A very important point. He opens his mouth, 
frowns as if remembering that he doesn't really have anything 
to say, then closes it again. He looks at me, searching for some 
answers I can't give him (or, at least, I don't think I can) before 
taking a deep breath, looking out of the window again. Then he 
suddenly beams with pride, looking for all the world like a little 
kid at Christmas who just got exactly what he wanted, and 
declares, "I'll show you!" He turns on his heels, takes a side-step 
to keep from falling, before climbing the stairs.  
 
I sit on the floor in the living room, staring at the empty 
staircase. He'll show me what? What's the wonderful idea? Why 
did we come here in the first place? And who drank all my 
beer?  
 
"I'll show you why I think Mrs Davis works for the Smoker!" 
Mulder yells from upstairs. His voice is making my head hurt 
and I cringe. When I see him coming down the stairs, my mouth 
drops open.  
 
Mulder is wearing his bathrobe but he has stuck a pillow in front 
of his belly so he looks rather fat. He has also put make-up on, 
most prominently red lip-stick. Lots of it, and slightly askew, 
which is probably the beer's fault. The curlers that he has 
somehow managed to twist and twirl into his short, spiky hair 
are the icing on the cake.  
 
He shuffles over to me and crooks one finger in my direction. 
Using a hoarse, falsetto voice very much like the one Mrs Davis 
has, he says, "Now listen, young man! I know you're travelling a 
lot but don't you think you could make sure that the lawn is 
mowed? And that the trash cans get emptied? And that the 
plants in your back yard grow more evenly? This isn't the jungle 
here, you know!" I laugh very hard again because Mulder 
doesn't just look like Mrs Davis, he sounds like her as well. He 
grins at me.  
 
"So, you think this is how a spy looks like?" he asks me in his 
normal voice again.  
 
I shake my head, no. "Absolutely not."  
 
"Precisely!" Mulder proclaims loudly, throwing his hands in the 
air as if receiving a gift from the Man himself. Then he turns to 
look at me again. "She doesn't look and act like a spy because 
she is one!" he explains triumphantly.  
 
He has definitely lost me in the middle somewhere. Or maybe 
it's the beer induced brain shut-down that is making it hard to 
concentrate on the most basic things right now, like breathing, 
let alone the more complex stuff. "You sure?" I finally offer.  
 
Mulder nods vigorously, then quickly decides that this isn't really 
a smart move in his current condition. He holds his head for a 
moment before opening his eyes again. "You bet. And once 
Scully finds out she'll kick some ass. But I want to present her 
some evidence first, Walter. So please keep your mouth shut." 
He looks at me pleadingly. I'm still not sure that this is such a 
good idea but I also know that Scully would have a fit when she 
found out about the stunt Mulder pulled today. She would 
definitely forbid him to dig any further, and of course he would 
ignore her, and one thing would lead to another, and pretty soon 
my poor Fox would be whipped by that mean Red Menace, and 
I couldn't let *that* happen, now, could I? Besides, I'd love to 
see Scully kick old Dragon Lady's ass once she has proof that 
Mulder is right. I giggle at the mental image forming in my head.  
 
Mulder is still looking at me, anxiously waiting for some kind of 
answer. I suddenly realize that he hasn't really seen any of my 
very private ass-kicking movie, and decide to give him a little 
demonstration. Slowly, very slowly, I ease myself up from the 
floor, looking around. Then I find the perfect prop.  
 
Walking towards the red table-cloth on the small coffee table I 
start to explain. "You know, Mulder, I think you're right. Scully is 
really narrow-minded sometimes. Unlike me. I mean, I can see 
the logic behind your theory. I'm also convinced that Dragon 
Lady is a spy. And we wanna see her assed kicked but good!" I 
grab the end of the cloth, yanking it off the table with a flourish, 
the way I have seen magicians doing it a lot when they snatch 
away the table-cloth and the entire silver and table ware stays in 
place. The magazines and the dish with apples go flying all 
across the room. Damn gravity!  
 
I turn around to Mulder, using the table-cloth as make-shift red 
hair. I throw my glasses onto the couch (or thereabouts), then I 
walk up to him, raising my eyebrow, giving him The Look. 
"Why, Mrs Davis, I think we need to have a little talk, don't you 
think?" I say in what I believe is a female voice. You won't 
believe how hard it is to sound like Scully!  
 
Mulder grins broadly, but then shakes his head. "Something's 
missing," he says, frowning.  
 
I frown as well. What does he mean? I'm not going upstairs, 
getting dressed in one of Scully's skirts, no, sir!  
 
Suddenly, Mulder launches himself at me, grabbing me 
forcefully, giving me a big, wet smooch. "Lipstick!" he informs 
me, jovially. I grin back at him. This is fun!  
 
At that moment we hear a throat being cleared. We turn around 
to look into a pair of ice-blue eyes. There is a small person 
standing at the entrance of the living room. Without my glasses, 
my vision is blurred, and the beer isn't really helping, either. 
Well, the red patch at the top end of that person gives me a hint 
or two. Somehow I more sense than see the arms folded, and 
that eyebrow raised.  
 
Mulder and I still hold each other, partly because that was one 
hot kiss, and partly because we can use all the support we can 
get to keep ourselves in an upright position. I glance at Mulder 
out of the corner of my eyes, and I have to grin. He just looks 
too stupid with those curlers and the pillow that is by now 
hanging somewhere near his thighs. The lipstick is smeared, 
and that makes him look a little like a circus clown. Then I 
realize what caused that lipstick to smear, and I lose my grin. 
I'm pretty sure that I don't make that big of an impression on 
Scully right now myself, with that red table-cloth on my head, 
and smeared lipstick on my mouth.  
 
"Actually, I just wanted to get here, though it's in the middle of 
the night, so I could sleep in. Didn't want to drive here early in 
the morning. Thought I could get some rest before my boys 
show up. Well, I guess I was *wrong*!"  
 
Both Mulder and I flinch because Scully's yelling only makes 
our headaches worse. We drop our heads.  
 
Scully walks into the room, taking in the damage. The 
magazines and the apples on the floor, the empty beer bottles, 
the potted plant that Mulder must have knocked over on one of 
his trips to the kitchen. "Care to elaborate?" Scully asks in this 
dangerous too calm voice.  
 
Neither Mulder nor I say a word. We both swallow convulsively, 
though. I hardly dare to look up at Scully.  
 
She walks around us, looking us over. Suddenly she stands 
behind us and gives both of us a hard slap on our butts with her 
bare hand. It still hurts, damn it!  
 
"Upstairs! Now!"  
 
Mulder and I run into each other on our way to the stairs, both of 
us desperately trying to get there first.  
 
Lady Enigma is back. We're doomed.  
 
 
 
THE END OF CHAPTER FIVE.  
 
 
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