Title: Urgepurge (1/1) Author: aka "Jake" Rating: PG-13 (A blaspheme or two) Classification: V Spoilers: Post-ep for "Genderbender" Summary: "I know what I saw, Scully, and I saw *you* about to do the wild thing with some stranger." -- Fox Mulder in "Genderbender" Disclaimer: Do these characters really belong to Chris Carter, FOX and 1013 Productions? If so, no copyright infringement intended. Fun, yes. Profit, no. This story is dedicated to dlynn. Urgepurge By aka "Jake" EN ROUTE FROM STEVESTON, MASSACHUSETTS TO WASHINGTON DC 11:21 AM Their car hits a pothole and Scully's stomach somersaults. The words "Pull over, Mulder, I'm going to throw up again" sit on the tip of her tongue. This X-File has been nothing but one big embarrassment. Mulder drives them home -- away from the crop circle, away from the Kindred, away from Brother Andrew, away from the most humiliating two days of her life. They hit another bump and bile bounces to her throat. "Are you doing that on purpose?" Mulder glances her way, eyebrows climbing. "No." His focus returns to the road. Mister Innocent. Cool as ice tea, totally relaxed. He sits behind the wheel, at ease in his own skin while she wants to crawl out of hers. Damn it, she itches where Brother Andrew... What the hell did he do to her anyway? **I know what I saw, Scully, and I saw *you* about to do the wild thing with some stranger.** The "wild thing"? He'd assaulted her. She was powerless to stop him. He drugged her...somehow. **Radar love, Scully. Only about a hundred times stronger than found anywhere in nature, strong enough to produce anaphylactic shock or a coronary.** A heart attack caused by pheromones? Not possible. Can't be. Can it? **This guy is a walking aphrodisiac. He's the ultimate sex magnet.** Sorry, but she's not buying Mulder's scented serial killer theory. Mulder watches the road. For once he isn't fidgeting. No tapping, no jiggling, no seed-cracking "Scully, I'm thinking this is a case of yada, yada." He drives one-handed; the other rests casually on his thigh. He slouches in his seat, alert but comfortable. With his tie hanging loose, suit coat tossed into the back seat, Mulder looks unperturbed by a night of fighting crime and rescuing her. To be honest, he looks damn tranquil for a guy who just got his ass kicked by a transvestite. Mulder's tussle with "Marty" left him rumpled, dusty and smelling kinda...nice. Eau de Mul-- Jesus, what is she thinking? She peeks at Mulder out of the corner of her eye, takes a teensy-weensy sniff. Research suggests that the subliminal scent of pheromones might accelerate puberty, control women's menstrual cycles, and allow mothers and infants to bond. Female Bombyx butterflies release a chemical called bombycol. As little as 100 molecules is sufficient to evoke a sexual response from a Bombyx male. **Why didn't you get out of there before he...** Is it possible she was rendered helpless by a mere odor? Oh God, if Mulder hadn't... **Get *off* her!** She's sure she's going to be sick. She rolls down her window a crack, lets in some fresh air. "You okay, Scully? You're looking a little green around the gills." I'm fine, Mulder. Quit looking at me. Another wave of nausea rolls through her gut. She swallows her mortification, and lowers her window a bit more. "If you could change genders, Scully, would you do it?" Oh, brother. "Mulder, it *is* possible to change genders." His eyes brighten. He's either thinking she believes his cockamamie theory about the Kindred, or else he's contemplating a sex-change operation. Fine. You wanna talk SRS, Mulder? "Gender dysphoria is treatable by orchiectomy, penectomy, vaginoplasty--" "Scully..." His brow creases and his hand moves to his lap. "I'm not talking about surgery." "Oh." "What if...what if you could, you know, do it anytime you wanted, just by...um..." "Wishful thinking? Magic? The answer would be no, Mulder. I'm perfectly happy the way I am." He chews on this for a minute. "Well, I'd try it," he finally says. "Just to see how the other half..." He hitches a bit in his seat. "You wouldn't be curious?" Now it's her turn to stare out the windshield; she scours the road ahead for some sign of wherever the hell they are. Are they even going in the right direction? Why does everything look so goddamn unfamiliar this morning? "Mulder...?" "Hmm?" Is he smiling? If he's smiling, she's gonna punch his-- "What do you plan...uh...to write in your report?" "We saw a crop circle, Scully. An honest-to-God crop circle. Has this been a great trip, or what?" He flashes her an extremely attractive grin. Lordy, he's handsome. She has a sudden urge to... Pheromones? "Mulder, pull over -- I'm going to throw up again." THE END Author's notes: When I heard from a cyberpal that she had won an opportunity to meet David Duchovny at the "Evolution" premiere in Sydney, Australia, I asked her to pleeeease take an inconspicuous whiff of him for me while she shook his hand (hey, I'm not too proud to live vicariously through others, and she was more than willing). Well, we were both a tad disappointed to discover he had no detectable scent whatsoever. I suppose it's nice that he practices good hygiene, but still, there's nothing quite like a little androstenone to make a girl go weak in the knees.