Teaser Gift for octoberaine
Teaser gift for octoberaine
Title: Happiest Place on Earth
Author: SecretSanta
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Rating: R
Spoilers: the whole show
Summary: a nightmare come true
Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the location are mine. Sadly.
Author’s note: Crack sent with XF Christmas love
*****
“Mulder, you do realize we’re more than likely the only people here packing heat?”
He leaned in and whispered out of the side of his mouth, “Better safe than sorry. Besides, did you see that greeter when we came in? Something is off here, Scully.”
She didn’t argue, instead nodding her head. “I feel it too, Mulder.”
“The brochure lied, Scully. This is not the happiest place on Earth.”
“Maybe it’s a conspiracy.”
“Ha ha.”
***
“Scully, Goofy’s arm just fell off!” Mulder looked from said arm, which was currently inching forward along the ground by its’ white-gloved fingers, to his partner-slash-significant other, and was pleased (and a little aroused) to note she’d gone into Kick-Ass Scully mode, her gun drawn and arm cocked, gaze sharp and alert.
She shot him a look that some might call patronizing. (He didn’t because she’d kick his ass and then patronize him all the way to the hospital to fix said ass.) “Of course his arm fell off, Mulder. Goofy is a zombie.”
His steps faltered and then stopped altogether as he eyed her suspiciously. Goofy’s white glove touched the toe of his boot and he gave the severed arm a good kick, briefly admiring the arc as the appendage sailed through the air. “All right. Who the hell are you and what have you done with my Scully?”
She smirked. “I thought we could skip the spiel. You were going to suggest zombies, weren’t you?”
It was rather deflating that she could predict most of his moves while she still kept him guessing. “You’re the skeptic, Scully, remember? I’m the believer.” He checked his gun. “And admit it, you love my spiels.”
“Just saving time,” she shot breezily over her shoulder as she maneuvered forward in a classic tactical advance pattern. “Come on. Don’t just stand there. We have to get out of Toontown and get to Fantasyland to find William.”
“I’ve got your six, G-mama.”
***
Goofy wasn’t the only zombie.
By the time they reached Fantasyland, they were tied - ten zombies apiece. (Not that he was keeping score). He’d taken out Mickey, Minnie and Snow White and all the Dwarfs (Grumpy was a tough little bastard), while Scully had dispatched Pluto, Donald Duck and a slew of pirates from the Pirates of the Caribbean attraction.
Head shots were the preferred method - the most efficient as well, determined through trial and error. Though sometimes the body or parts thereof remained animated and required further action. Mulder had become rather fond of punting the arms and legs (okay, and the heads) to ‘infinity and beyond!’
Guns blazing, working in perfect synchrony, they fought their way to the rendezvous point, neither voicing out loud the concern for their progeny. The shuffling undead seemed to increase in number and it became apparent they’d found the hub of zombie activity.
Thank Flukeman they’d had the foresight to bring extra clips.
***
The Morley-less old man (Dr.Scully’s order, along the lines of “smoke near my son and I’ll rip your lungs out”) formerly known as Cigarette-Smoking Man and other aliases, now went by the suave moniker Grandpa Spender, or on some days, Gramps. For all his mysterious and syndicate ways, he doted on his only grandchild, William, who was currently ensconced on his Grandpa’s lap, pointing excitedly.
Their precocious little bundle of maybe-alien DNA had learned a new word while apart from his parents.
“Zombie, Dada! Zombie, Mama!”
Scully was surprisingly philosophical about it. “With us as parents, he’s bound to learn all manner of disturbing names and phenomena. It’s no worse than ‘alien’, really.”
The two stalwart FBI agents-turned-zombie fighters set up defensive positions around William and Grandpa Spender and declared their location as the last stand.
Turned out their precautions were entirely unnecessary as William raised one little hand at the horde of approaching zombies and imperiously ordered, “Sit!” and the zombies obediently sat down en masse.
Gramps camouflaged his evil chuckle behind a racking bout of (ex-)smoker’s cough.
*****
(end)
Title: Happiest Place on Earth
Author: SecretSanta
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Rating: R
Spoilers: the whole show
Summary: a nightmare come true
Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the location are mine. Sadly.
Author’s note: Crack sent with XF Christmas love
*****
“Mulder, you do realize we’re more than likely the only people here packing heat?”
He leaned in and whispered out of the side of his mouth, “Better safe than sorry. Besides, did you see that greeter when we came in? Something is off here, Scully.”
She didn’t argue, instead nodding her head. “I feel it too, Mulder.”
“The brochure lied, Scully. This is not the happiest place on Earth.”
“Maybe it’s a conspiracy.”
“Ha ha.”
***
“Scully, Goofy’s arm just fell off!” Mulder looked from said arm, which was currently inching forward along the ground by its’ white-gloved fingers, to his partner-slash-significant other, and was pleased (and a little aroused) to note she’d gone into Kick-Ass Scully mode, her gun drawn and arm cocked, gaze sharp and alert.
She shot him a look that some might call patronizing. (He didn’t because she’d kick his ass and then patronize him all the way to the hospital to fix said ass.) “Of course his arm fell off, Mulder. Goofy is a zombie.”
His steps faltered and then stopped altogether as he eyed her suspiciously. Goofy’s white glove touched the toe of his boot and he gave the severed arm a good kick, briefly admiring the arc as the appendage sailed through the air. “All right. Who the hell are you and what have you done with my Scully?”
She smirked. “I thought we could skip the spiel. You were going to suggest zombies, weren’t you?”
It was rather deflating that she could predict most of his moves while she still kept him guessing. “You’re the skeptic, Scully, remember? I’m the believer.” He checked his gun. “And admit it, you love my spiels.”
“Just saving time,” she shot breezily over her shoulder as she maneuvered forward in a classic tactical advance pattern. “Come on. Don’t just stand there. We have to get out of Toontown and get to Fantasyland to find William.”
“I’ve got your six, G-mama.”
***
Goofy wasn’t the only zombie.
By the time they reached Fantasyland, they were tied - ten zombies apiece. (Not that he was keeping score). He’d taken out Mickey, Minnie and Snow White and all the Dwarfs (Grumpy was a tough little bastard), while Scully had dispatched Pluto, Donald Duck and a slew of pirates from the Pirates of the Caribbean attraction.
Head shots were the preferred method - the most efficient as well, determined through trial and error. Though sometimes the body or parts thereof remained animated and required further action. Mulder had become rather fond of punting the arms and legs (okay, and the heads) to ‘infinity and beyond!’
Guns blazing, working in perfect synchrony, they fought their way to the rendezvous point, neither voicing out loud the concern for their progeny. The shuffling undead seemed to increase in number and it became apparent they’d found the hub of zombie activity.
Thank Flukeman they’d had the foresight to bring extra clips.
***
The Morley-less old man (Dr.Scully’s order, along the lines of “smoke near my son and I’ll rip your lungs out”) formerly known as Cigarette-Smoking Man and other aliases, now went by the suave moniker Grandpa Spender, or on some days, Gramps. For all his mysterious and syndicate ways, he doted on his only grandchild, William, who was currently ensconced on his Grandpa’s lap, pointing excitedly.
Their precocious little bundle of maybe-alien DNA had learned a new word while apart from his parents.
“Zombie, Dada! Zombie, Mama!”
Scully was surprisingly philosophical about it. “With us as parents, he’s bound to learn all manner of disturbing names and phenomena. It’s no worse than ‘alien’, really.”
The two stalwart FBI agents-turned-zombie fighters set up defensive positions around William and Grandpa Spender and declared their location as the last stand.
Turned out their precautions were entirely unnecessary as William raised one little hand at the horde of approaching zombies and imperiously ordered, “Sit!” and the zombies obediently sat down en masse.
Gramps camouflaged his evil chuckle behind a racking bout of (ex-)smoker’s cough.
*****
(end)