Title: Aliens Landed and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt
Author: Whimsicle-1
Feedback: Always welcome at Whimsicle.dreams@gmail.com
Disclaimer: This is not meant to infringe on copyrights held by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen, Centropolis Productions, Fox, or anyone else (and besides, I have no money-suing me would be a waste of effort). This story, however, does belong to me, so please don't reproduce it without something approaching permission.
Author's Note: This was actually written when ID4 first came out and someone on a list I was on at the time asked for and X-Files/ID4 crossover (hmm, I wonder if they came to regret that request). The idea actually occurred to me as I was leaving the theater, and I should probably warn you that my tongue is planted so firmly in my cheek it's tickling my ear. Btw, it should also be said that this is an earlier, not so angst-ridden Scully and Mulder before death, destruction, illness, and assorted oil slicks made them quite so damn whiny.
Originally written: 1996

Aliens Landed and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt
By Whimsicle-1

Fox Mulder's eyes rose from the computer screen on his desk as Dana Scully entered the office they shared, closely followed by her mother. "Hi, Scully...Mrs. Scully," he offered with a friendly grin.

"Hello, Fox." Margaret returned the expression with a smile of her own. She liked her daughter's partner. In fact, she had a few hopes that the two might be more than partners. It wasn't like Dana was meeting any other eligible men---monsters, werewolves, space aliens, and such, but the closest thing she's managed to a date with an available man in months had wanted to do her hair and nails. Not necessarily while she was still wearing them.

"Hi, Mulder," Dana added, glancing back and forth between her mom and her partner. There was something very weird about the relationship between those two. She had a sneaky suspicion it had something to do with her mother's admitted desire for more grandchildren. Scully cringed over the idea. That would mean seeing Mulder. Naked. Yech! "You ready to go?"

He shook his head. "Not quite. I want to log on and pick up my email. I'm expecting something from a friend at Terrestrial Witnesses to Extraterrestrial Relocation Plans. He claims to have gotten his hands on their moving schedule."

Scully's eyes narrowed in irritation. They'd planned to take her mother to dinner for nearly two weeks. The last thing she needed was for him to go off on another of his bizarre tangents. "Look, I think the guys at TWERP can do without you for one night."

Mulder winced over her use of the acronym. He suspected she enjoyed it a little too much. On the other hand, she really did get way too uptight about these things. He shrugged her irritation off, confident that with enough exposure, she'd see things the way he did. "It could be important."

Dana sighed softly and plopped into the chair behind her desk, turning an apologetic look toward her mother. Margaret Scully only shook her head and took up residence in the upholstered chair that sat in one corner. She was used to delays whenever she did anything with the two of them. She knew that Dana and Fox were trying to be nice and get her out of the house since Bill's death, but the truth was, it would have worked better if at least one of them learned the meaning of the word "schedule."

Mulder's computer rang and drew a busy signal, earning a soft grumble from the man staring at the screen. He punched a button and it rang again. Another busy signal.

Having added boredom to her irritation, Dana glanced past his shoulder. Her eyes went wide at what she saw on the screen. "AOL?" she muttered disbelievingly. "You're using AOL. Why not just use the email account the bureau supplies...for free?"

He looked up and frowned darkly. "People..." he put special emphasis on the word, indicating he was referring to the unnamed conspirators he was convinced spent their days and nights spying on him. Sometimes Scully thought he was right, other times, she just thought he was crazy. "…might be able to hack my private email if I did that..."

Dana's brows rose. "As opposed to what?" she demanded dryly. "Every twelve year old with the latest warez reading it?"

Mulder grumbled something uncharitable under his breath and continued dialing.

She folded her arms across her chest, unaware of the wry look on her mother's face as she watched the scene play out before her. "Look, can we just go? You can get your email later."

"Just a couple more tries," Mulder insisted. "If I still can't get through, we'll go."

Scully rolled her eyes. She'd heard that before.

He set it to dial again.

"Oh, hell," his partner groused. "At least set it up to autodial."

Mulder looked up, his expression blank.

Whoops, she'd forgotten, Mulder knew about as much about computers as he did good fashion sense. He was probably on AOL because it was the only service he could figure out how to use. She rose and reached past him, tapping a command into his computer so that it would dial on its own until it got through. Her efforts were met with another busy signal. "Look," she inserted, "it's probably down for maintenance. Why don't you check it when we get back?"

"I'm not coming back here, and the computer at my place isn't working," he answered distantly.

Scully sighed and dropped back into her chair. She glanced over at her mother and shrugged helplessly.

The intermittent buzz of a dial tone, followed by the pulse of the dialer and the beep of the busy signal played over and over through the small office with mind numbing, hypnotic intensity. Over the course of the first few hours, Dana tried several times to interject the suggestion that they leave, but Mulder kept insisting on a few more tries. Margaret passed out in her chair, and Dana dozed, dreaming bizarre nightmares of a world ruled by the phone company. It was not a pretty picture.

"...then if you take your standard daily rate and compound it by your evening rate, then subtract your weekend rate, and fill out this form listing any, and all persons that you might wish to call over the remainder of your life, and don't forget to include all phone numbers, past, present, and future---"

"No!" Dana Scully snapped awake, breathing hard and in a cold sweat from the hideous nightmare. Not even someone who routinely faced government hit-men, swamp monsters, psychopaths, and space aliens could face a nightmare about phone rates without waking up screaming. The only more frightening thing out there was the airline rate schedule. It took her a moment to realize that she was safely in her office in the sub-sub-sub-basement of the J. Edgar Hoover building. She straightened slowly, dropping her feet from her desk to the floor, as she worked the kinks out of muscles cramped from an uncomfortable sleeping position. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as they landed on the lanky figure of her partner.

Mulder was sprawled at his desk, his head resting on his folded arms. His computer screen was dark.

Scully cursed softly and rose from her chair. "Mulder," she hissed, shaking his shoulder.

He waved a hand at her, still half-asleep, and mumbled, "Just one more try."

Scully glanced back over her shoulder, spotting her mother where she was curled up in a chair. She turned back to glare at Mulder and shook harder. "Now!" she growled angrily.

He snapped awake with a startled groan. "Wha'-huh-wha'?"

"Wakey, wakey, rise and shine," Scully growled.

He blinked sleepily up at her. "Wha' happen'?"

She pointed at the computer. "You fell asleep." She pointed back to where her mother was starting to stir, awakened by the sound of her daughter's voice. "We ALL fell asleep...boredom will do that to people."

Mulder ran his fingers through his already ruffled hair as he peered at his dark computer. "Don' remember shutting it off," he muttered.

Margaret Scully yawned, twisting to work the kinks out of her neck as she found her feet. She sighed softly. Fox and Dana were at it again. Just another fun-filled evening with her daughter, and her---whatever he was: partner, lover, shoe salesman, whatever. She listened to the argument with one ear while peering around the room with curious eyes. Did the many file cabinets in the background hold X-Files, she wondered, or were they just a leftover remnant of their office's former (and perhaps present) life as a storage room? Given the disorganization, it seemed doubtful that even her daughter or Mulder was likely to be certain of the answer. A quick glance at her watch told her that they had managed to waste the night and well into the next day. Lovely.

Margaret glanced back at her daughter and Fox. Still arguing. She knew from experience they could go at this for days. She was just debating breaking into the continuing battle (really, there had to be a better way to express their affection for one another---and when, by the way, had they managed to get married without her noticing---because they were definitely acting a little TOO much like a couple) when she noticed something odd. The emergency lights were on. The two battery powered klieg lights in the corner were supplying the rather minimal illumination in the room while the overhead fluorescents were dark. She was about to mention the fact when her daughter's voice broke into her musings.

"Come on, Mom. Let's leave AGENT Mulder to his email," Scully snapped, her voice frosty enough to add several inches of ice to any glaciers that might be loitering in the vicinity.

"Sc-u-u-l-l-ly," Mulder whined.

Dana ushered her mother out of their office ahead of her.

Mulder was right behind them. "C'mon, Scully, I said I was sorry."

"Er..." Margaret started to break in as she noticed the emergency lights were also on in the hallway. Something strange was definitely going on.

Dana misinterpreted her mother's tone, thinking she wanted to slow down for Mulder. Dana was in no mood to forgive. "Don't you dare cut him any slack this time."

"But I---"

"Because he is PERMANANTLY in the dog house this time." Technically, Dana was speaking to her mother, but her words were meant for her partner.

Mulder finally had the decency or perhaps the common sense to at least look rueful. It wasn't nearly enough. Despite being taller than the two women, he had to jog to keep up with them as Dana led her mother toward the elevators.

Margaret nearly skidded on the plaster dust coating the floor as they rounded the corner just ahead of the service elevator. Dana never noticed.

Scully pounded on the elevator buttons, cursing under her breath when it didn't immediately arrive. Someone in the universe definitely needed to invent an elevator that responded in order of most urgent need (or even better, in order of the most vociferous threat).

"I just wanted to make sure I'd be relaxed and enjoy dinner," Mulder endeavored to explain.

Scully gave up on the elevator and headed toward the stairs, dragging her mother along behind.

"I really think there's something you ought to---" Margaret tried to break in. This time it was Mulder who cut her off, though in fairness, he was so focused on his favorite subject (himself) that he never noticed.

"I would have spent the entire night wondering what was going on."

"As opposed to the rest of us spending the entire night in desk chairs?" Scully growled. She automatically righted herself as her heel landed on a crumbling step, so used to traipsing through dark forests at night that she didn't think anything of it. Likewise, she didn't notice the crumbling plaster on the walls, the cracks in the ceiling, or the slightly smokey odor in the air either.

Neither did Mulder.

Some days, Margaret was inclined to wonder about the relative intelligence of those two. Today wasn't one of those days. Today, she knew they were both idiots. "Whoa!" she snapped and skidded to a halt, refusing to go any farther until someone listened to her.

Scully and Mulder turned equally confused gazes on the older woman.

"What's," Scully began.

"Wrong?" Mulder finished for her.

Margaret blinked twice. She hated when they did that. "Haven't you two noticed anything odd?"

Mulder and Scully looked at each other, then back at Margaret. "No," they said in unison.

"Nothing," Mulder added for good measure.

"Nada," Scully agreed.

Margaret rolled her eyes. "The lights are out except for the battery powered emergency bulbs."

Mulder and Scully shrugged in stereo.

"It happens sometimes in the basement," Scully explained gently to her mom. "I don't think they keep the maintenance routines up very reliably down there."

Mulder nodded. "Yeah."

"The elevator wasn't working," Margaret pointed out.

Dana shook her head. "It's always slow."

"The walls and the ceiling are cracking."

Scully shrugged as if to say-what can you do? "Government contractors."

"It smells like something's been burning in here."

It was Mulder's turn to explain. "Some of the agents sneak cigarettes in the stairwells, since the Federal anti-smoking legislation."

One by one, they knocked down every argument she had that something weird was going on, climbing steadily higher with every argument. It didn't really occur to either of them that they might be wrong until they stepped into the late afternoon sun.

There were several clues that something odd had, indeed happened.

The first was the smoky tinge that hung in the air.

The second was the utter silence that assailed their ears.

The third was the fact that J. Edgar Hoover building, and in fact, the entire city were---more, or less---missing...

Well, not missing, precisely. They were still there---just not in any recognizable form. Washington DC was so much rubble.

Scully's jaw dropped. "Ummmm...." She exhaled with her usual brilliant insight.

"Errrr....." Mulder added his own take on the subject.

"I TOLD you," Margaret gloated, and folded her arms across her chest. She settled onto an available piece of rubble. Oh well, if the world had come to an end, at least she'd finally have blackmail material to push her daughter into having children. After all, Fox and Dana would be left with the task of repopulating the planet.

"I think...something...happened...." Mulder decided at last.

"Noooo...really?" Margaret said dryly, and frowned, wondering if an entire species based on the genetics of those two was such a good idea after all.

They were still sitting there like that when someone came stumbling up out of the remains of another stairwell.

Walter Skinner shook his head slowly as he stepped into the sunlight, squinting against the brightness. He peered across the flattened remains of Washington, then froze as his eyes landed on the three figures a short distance away. "No...no...no..." he groaned as he recognized Mulder. He'd been in a sub basement, trying to find the right toner cartridge for his printer when the world---or at least Washington DC---came to an end (and isn't that ALWAYS the way). It had taken hours for him to fight his way up through the debris, and through it all, the only good side he'd been able to see to whole sorry mess was that he would no longer have to put up with Fox Mulder, his insane theories or his even more insane expense reports (it's not every man, who's asked to approve $123.32 for alien repellent in an expense report). He briefly considered going back down into the basement. Too late. They'd already seen him. Accepting the misery of his lot in life, he staggered toward the three. "Scully...Mrs. Scully...Mulder," the last name was said with same affection usually reserved for IRS auditors or dentists.

Scully snapped to her feet as their boss drew near. "What happened?" she demanded.

Skinner pulled up short. "Didn't you two see President Whitmore's speech?"

Mulder and Scully traded looks. "Speech?" they said in unison.

"The aliens!" Skinner exploded in disbelief.

Mulder's ears perked up. Finally, a subject that interested him. "You know, issue four of Intergalactic Daily had this incredible picture of a UFO over Area 51--"

"I still say it looked like a pie plate," Scully grumbled.

Skinner couldn't believe his ears. Mulder was babbling about some article about aliens when real, live ones had blown up the damn city. "The city," he croaked.

"Yeah," Mulder said, suddenly remembering the surrounding destruction. "What happened to it?"

"Aliens," Skinner babbled. "Ship ... fifteen miles across ... came down... just sat there for a while... AND OPENED FIRE!! HOW DID YOU MISS THAT??!!"

"Aliens came?" Mulder repeated the only part of the sentence that he'd heard.

Scully sank down onto the convenient rubble next to her mother.

"YES!!" Skinner bellowed. "ALIENS CAME AND BLEW UP THE CITY!!" He was seriously considering indulging in a massive myocardial infarction just to escape Mulder. No, with his luck, Mulder would have a seance in order to keep bothering him. That was just the way his life (and probably his death) worked.

Mulder's eyes went round as the truth sank in. A tear formed in the corner of his eye. He settled onto the debris next to Scully and her mom. "I missed 'em," he moaned, disappointment threading through his voice. "The aliens finally came and I missed 'em."

Margaret picked up a handful of rubble and let the plaster dust slide through her fingers. "Yeah...and they missed you too."

"Unfortunately," Skinner complained as he found the last open spot on the brick pile.

Dana sighed softly. "We should probably do something."

"I can't believe I missed 'em," Mulder continued to groan over an over until Scully finally shouted, "Jeez, Mulder, give it a rest!"

"But I didn't even get any pictures..."

As the discussion between the two agents devolved into something on the level of your average pair of two-year olds, Skinner turned to peer at Margaret. "So, you were trapped down there with them, eh?"

Margaret shrugged, flashing a brief glance at Fox and Dana. "Thankfully, I was asleep most of the time."

"Good choice," Skinner sighed. Mulder and Scully were really going at it now. Wonderful, if there were no other survivors, he was going to wind up spending the rest of his earthly days listening to the two of them argue. He massaged the back of his neck in an effort to relieve the stress engendered by that idea. "Ah...look..." he began hesitantly.

Margaret peered at him with raised brows.

"It's just that I'm starving...I wondered if you'd like to join me?"

"Er...in case you hadn't noticed..." she gestured to the surrounding debris.

Skinner shrugged. "Since cockroaches are supposed to survive Armageddon, I figure there's a fifty-fifty shot there's still a Dominoes operating somewhere in the city."

"Good point."

Margaret tried twice to break in and invite daughter and her---whatever he was---along

Scully, and Mulder never noticed.

So, as the sun set upon the remains of Washington DC, somewhere the human race was fighting for survival...but not here...nope...here, they were just fighting.

But what of Walter and Margaret?

They had a pepperoni and onion with double cheese.

The End

(Okay...okay...I figure I'm going to get flamed for this one, but you didn't really think that I viewed the destruction of Washington DC as a major tragedy-I'm joking...I'm joking....please put away those flame throwers...ouch! Hey! That smarts!--RUN AWAY!!!!!)