Title: Cameron and Comfort Foods Author: Fox's Gal Feedback: I'd appreciate it. foxs_gal@bellsouth.net Archive: Just let me know. Rating: R for naughty language Disclaimer: (To the tune of "Row Your Boat") X-Files is a show that we all love to watch, We borrow the characters for our own fun, They don't belong to us! (Really: As if you didn't know, they're Chris Carter's. I think he shares them with FOX though...why should *I* care though, right? I mean, it's not *any* of us are making any money off of this stuff!) Spoilers: Um, you should have at least SEEN "Titanic" for this one. Yes, I'm serious. Summary: Mulder's pissed and settles in for a nice evening of Oreos, milk and Titanic." Note: Why did I choose Oreos? Two reasons. #1: It was what we had in the house. #2: RhymePhile did a nifty little story on Oreos and philosophy. RhymePhile's story kind of inspired this in a roundabout way. RP also wrote about Spam, but that has nothing to do with this. The thoughts expressed by Mulder at the end of this story mirror thoughts that I had myself whilst watching this movie with Oreos and milk and a pisspoor attitude. Now your second question: Why "Titanic"? Quite frankly, aside from my OWN thoughts whilst watching the flick, I have no earthly idea. Further note: Thanks very much to RhymePhile for beta-reading this AND for writing the first Oreo story... *~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "Cameron and Comfort Foods" By Fox's Gal *~*~*~*~*~*~*~* He rammed his key in the lock, turned it and shoved at the door angrily. He ground his teeth and felt a headache begin throbbing somewhere in the back of his head. The door gave and swung open, slamming into the wall with a loud THUNK. "Goddamn, mother--" He nearly stepped on the envelope that had been slipped under his door. It did nothing to alleviate his mood. Growling, he picked up the envelope and eyed the scrawl on the white paper. *Mr. F.W. Mulder, Apt. 42* "With my luck, it's my fucking eviction notice." He tore at the envelope and ripped the sheet of plain white paper out of it. Sighing, he read the typed words. Dear Mr. Mulder, We regret to inform you that the water heater that services your floor will be out of order for the remainder of the weekend. Repairmen will be in the building for the next few days and we hope to rectify the problem in a speedy and efficient manner. Your apartment will have no hot water during this time period. We are truly sorry for any and all inconveniences. The Management "Goddamn it all to hell. Dammit, dammit, dammit! Motherfff--AAAARRRRGH!!!" He turned and hit the wall with his open palm. He looked up and saw that the door was still wide open. Narrowing his eyes, he kicked at the door, smiling when it shut with an ear splitting slam. "First that fucking bastard fucking suspends me for five fucking days and now THIS." He stood there for a moment, anger washing over him, making his heart pound and his head ache even worse. The lack of hot water probably wouldn't have bothered him so much had it not been compounded by the fact that AD Kersh had suspended him without pay for five days. The reason? In Mulder's estimation, it was for showing a little initiative. Kersh's opinion differed slightly. In Kersh's opinion, Mulder had misused the privileges that the FBI had offered. In Kersh's opinion, Mulder was "a loaded gun, ready to go off." It probably wouldn't have been so bad, except for the fact that Scully was on vacation. With her mother. In Las Vegas. An idea suddenly occurred to Mulder and the red fog that had settled over his vision lifted somewhat. Scully was in Las Vegas. That meant that she was NOT in her apartment. Surely her plants would need to be watered. His grin widened. Scully's plants would surely need water, wouldn't they? Nice, hot, steaming water...with one of those neat-o loofahs that... It occurred to Mulder that Scully's plants wouldn't much appreciate hot, steaming water. But Scully had plants, she had hot water and Mulder would have been only too happy to take care of her plants whilst taking advantage of her hot water. He was really only doing it for Scully. He kept telling himself that as he packed his bag with approximately five days worth of clothes. Because he had no idea when her plants would get thirsty... The bothersome voice that he knew as conscience chose that moment to kick in. Don't you think you should at least ASK? He heaved a sigh. It probably wouldn't be a bad idea to at least ask her. He picked up the cordless and mindlessly punched in Scully's cellphone number. It rang. A few times. Just as he was about to panic, a very hoarse, very tired, almost Scullylike voice filtered over the line. "H'lo?" "Scully?" "Mmm...what? Mulder?" "Scully...I, uh, need to ask you something..." He heard her grunt and plunged on. "Um, my water heater's busted and I...uh need a place to stay while they fix it and..." he heard the deep, even rhythm of her breathing. It sounded very much as though his partner had fallen asleep on him. "Scully? You there?" "Hmmmwha?" "You fell asleep on me." "No, no...no. No, really. I'm here. I'm awake." He glanced at his watch. It was 3:00 PM in Washington. He did some quick math. It was only 1:00 PM in Nevada...or thereabouts. "What did you and your mother DO last night?" "Huh?" Her tone was innocent. "Oh, not much...just..." long drawn out pause, "girl stuff." "Uh huh. So, can I stay at your place this week?" "It's taking them a week to get you hot water?" Even through her sleep-induced stupor, he could hear the incredulous tone in her voice. Mulder shifted, blushing slightly. "Well, um...not entirely." "Do I want to know?" He paused a moment, considering telling her. "Probably not. So, can I?" The sound of her sigh across the line was mingled with static and he grinned. "Sure." "Thanks Scully I--" "Save it. One condition." "Anything for you, Scully. I'll water your plants, I'll..." "No pornos in my VCR." "Huh?" He heard what sounded faintly like a giggle before the line was disconnected. He stared at the phone in his hand, the dial tone droning tonelessly. "Damn." *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Scully's Apartment An Hour Later... With the large duffel bag slung over his shoulder and the bag of groceries balanced precariously in his arms, Mulder breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the door to Scully's apartment without dropping either. He plodded into Scully's kitchen and proceeded to empty his grocery bag, placing the contents on the counter. "Looks like we've got it all...whole milk, chocolate syrup, macaroni and cheese, peanut butter, grape jelly, Spam, rye bread, frozen pizza...and the piece de resistance...one ultra jumbo family sized box of Cocoa Puffs." He paused a moment. "Life is good." As he was putting the groceries away, mingling his purchases amongst Scully's skim milk and leafy greens, it occurred to him that he forgot one very important thing. Cookies. His brow furrowed. He would just have to use Scully's. That was if she even HAD cookies in her kitchen...that weren't made primarily of Wheat Germ. He rifled through her pantry, turning his nose up at the whole-wheat crackers and granola bars. He wasn't about to waste his time on granola bars that weren't even covered in chocolate, for heaven's sake. Then he found them, and for a moment, angels sang. One unopened package of Oreos. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Several hours later... *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* He had gone out to run in an effort to ease the frustration that had been flowing freely through his body. It had worked to an extent, but Mulder knew what he really needed: milk and cookies. He showered in Scully's too-small bathroom and struggled to force his slightly damp legs into sweatpants. After pulling a T-shirt over his head, he wandered into the kitchen under the pretense of getting something substantial to eat. "Peanut butter and jelly, pizza, Spam...no, no, and no." His eye wandered to the cabinet where the heavenly cookies hid. After waging an all too brief battle with his conscience, he poured himself a tall glass of milk and opened the package of Oreos, placing several on a plate. Mulder meandered into the living room and headed over to the smallish cabinet where Scully kept her, in his opinion, small and rather ho-hum collection of videos. He set the Oreos and milk on a nearby table, ignoring the also nearby coasters, and turned his attention back to the tapes. "'Steel Magnolias,' 'Thelma and Louise,' 'From Here To Eternity,' 'Titanic,' 'Tombstone,' 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre IV,' 'The Exorcist'...Scully, Scully...who knew? Chick flicks, Westerns and classic horror..." he muttered to himself, not sure of what, exactly, he wanted to kill time with. He closed his eyes and stuck his hand out blindly and withdrew a tape. He opened his eyes. His shoulders sagged. Titanic. "Like I'm going to do anything constructive in..." he examined the back of the box, "a helluva lot of hours." He popped the first tape in the VCR, turned the lights down and settled on the couch, placing the milk and Oreos on the coffee table. He snatched one up and inspected it for a moment. No one could have made a more perfect cookie. He mentally congratulated Scully for picking out REAL Oreos over those "Reduced Fat" imposters. Well...it would have been perfect had she picked the Double Stuffed, he wasn't going to complain...much. Scully wasn't around to hear him anyway. He sighed and flopped back on the couch. The movie was starting. He had heard once that the first tape was the girly stuff and the second tape was the manly stuff. He contemplated watching the second tape first. "Eh, I'm probably the last person on earth who hasn't seen this thing. Better get it over with and see what all the fuss is about." He had his own theories about the sinking of the ship. No one had ever asked *him* to make a movie though. Granted, alien life forms telepathically guiding the ship into the iceberg probably wouldn't have been particularly popular amongst the masses... *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Approximately 97 minutes later... *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* He never was amazed at Hollywood's ability to sum up good and evil with such stereotypical differences. Instead of white hats and black hats, there were blond pouty lipped protagonists and brunette pouty lipped antagonists. That redhead was cute though... So far, in between chocolatey bites of milk-soaked cookie, he was fuming far too much about Kersh and his suspension to pay much attention to the movie. He had already gone back to the kitchen for seconds on the cookies. He knew the ending, for god's sake. Everybody knew. The boat was going to sink. And though... He found himself holding his breath as the huge chunk of ice neared the bow of the ship. But then again, that could be summed up as simple emotional manipulation on the part of the moviemaker by merely using swelling music as a counterpoint to what, in actuality, wasn't really all that charged a scene. Really. He took the change in tapes as the perfect opportunity for a bathroom break, absently wondering what had possessed Scully to purchase such a girly movie. It was all fluff so far...well, aside from that nude scene and the iceberg scene... Mulder returned to his warm spot on the couch and eyed the glass of milk and plate of cookies. No more cookies and a half a glass of milk. He hated it when the milk outlasted the cookies. Now he had no choice but to get more cookies. No choice at all... Soon he was settled in and ready for Tape II. Death, destruction and panic...now this is more like it. He smiled indulgently at the special effects as the ship began to both fill with water and tilt precariously. Yup. She's a-gonna sink. Ohhh yeah... Nope. No getting off now. Oh damn...smokestacks startin' to fall.... Ouch. That's gonna leave a mark. Okay...if you think that holding on to the back railing's gonna help... Oops, shouldn't let go like that... The hull should snap in two just...about...now. Oh, look at that. Yeah, that probably hurt. One order of mass hypothermia, coming up. Hmm...no one's going back for 'em. Gotta love human nature... He sighed, realizing that he was, once again, out of cookies. He padded into the kitchen again, hurrying back so as not to miss anything... That water looks awfully chilly. Getting closer...closer...clooooooser... Yeah, you might wanna hold your breath. No, that floating piece of wood ain't gonna hold both of you. Nope. No! I told you, dammit. It wasn't gonna hold you BOTH! Oh look, they're goin' back. Mighty big of ya, fellas. Ah, rowing through floating bodies. That's a mood killer. I'll be damned. She's not dead yet. Delirious, but alive. Uh ohhh... Nope, nope, he ain't sleepin' there, Rosie. Nope. Oh damn...damned emotional manipulation again. Yeah, swelling music. Yep. Okay, beg him to wake up. Go on... Okay, yeah, yeah, yeah, you'll never let go. Yep. Okay. Now, go pull the whistle out of the dead man's mouth...germs are the least of your problems right now. Okay, denounce your family...take on a new name. Anyone up for a butterfly metaphor now? Oh damn...she actually HAD the fucking thing? Ahhhh...sound asleep. And probably dead. Oh look. An otherworldly reunion of free floating spirits. Now that warms the heart. The movie ended and Mulder heaved himself off of the couch, ejecting the tape from the player. He was turning back to the cabinet when something inordinately strange occurred to him. He realized, as he selected his second tape of the evening, "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre IV," that his face was leaking. He swiped at his cheeks in what was almost an embarrassed gesture. He couldn't believe he was *crying* at that movie. It was only a MOVIE! Mulder swallowed hard and sniffled. The noise was more along the lines of a "snuffling," and much louder... He dropped "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre IV" on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen for more Oreos. There were none left. This did nothing to ease the wetness on his face. He had eaten all of Scully's cookies. Indeed, he had not only eaten her cookies...he had eaten her OREOS!!! The phone suddenly rang and he looked at it, shocked. He glanced at the VCR. It was nearly midnight. Who the hell called Scully at this time of night? Besides him, of course. He opted to let the answering machine pick up. If it was anyone of the male persuasion and remotely attractive sounding, he would promptly erase the message and... "Mulder? Mulder, are you there? Mulder, you'd better not be watching pornos in my VCR!" He raced to the phone and picked it up. "Scully? I'm here. I'm here Scully." "Good, good...so, you've been behaving yourself? No, ah...tapes that aren't yours...right?" He swiped at his eyes again. "No, actually I was watching one of your movies." "Oh really?" She sounded inordinately surprised. "Which one?" "Ummm...that...one. You know...that one movie." He sniffled, and hoped Scully didn't notice. Fat chance. "Mulder? Mulder, are you okay?" The concern in her tone washed over him and he bit his lip, glancing at the now-empty package on her kitchen counter. Her cookies...all gone. Every last one of them, gone forever and ever. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Um, Scully? I..." "Mulder, what is it?" Oreos. No more. "I..." Gone. "What? Mulder, what's wrong?" Forever. Just like Jack... Tears spilled over. "I ate all your Oreos!!!" ********************************** Brain: "Pinky...my face is leaking." Pinky: "Your face isn't leaking, Brain...you're crying!" ___ end