Title: Domestic Disturbances Author: Rihannsu E-mail: maximana@yahoo.com Website: http://www.geocities.com/maximana/ Classification: Humor, Fake Slash Rating: PG-13 for the 'F' word and implied (sorry!) adult situations. Spoilers: general season 8 Archive: XFMU, sure. Otherwise, please ask, cause I'm obsessive like that. Feedback: go for it. Disclaimer: The characters of Doggett, Mulder, Scully, et al. are property of 1013 productions. This particular arrangement of words is mine. Summary: Babies, Puppies, Mini-vans. Stupid!Mulder, Clueless! Doggett, Snide!Scully. In other words, characterization abounds. Author's Note: This is part five of what I call the Stupid!Mulder Series. Blah Blah Blah, not bashing. Okay, so back during the middle of season eight it seemed like a bunch of spoiler pics had Doggett in close corners with a number of the X-file's gentlemen, Skinner (most of the season), Mulder (Three Words and Vienen), Absalom (Three Words). And so in someone's demented mind, the idea of John Jay Doggett: X-files Slut was born. An idean wherein we wrote mock slash about . . . well, everyone. This was one of the results. ***** "Honey, I'm home." The front door slammed. Mulder turned away from the pot he was scrubbing in the sink to glare at his overly cheerful mate. "You think that's funny, don't you?" He said sourly. "It is funny," Doggett insisted and snagged a beer from the fridge. "It's seven o'clock. Why are you so late?" Mulder whined. "Scully and I got stuck on a later flight out of Detroit," Doggett said making a placating gesture. "And then traffic was murder on the Beltway." "Speaking of Scully, where is she? Her offspring has been cranky all day, and it would be nice if she would re-claim it." Doggett hesitated. "Um, I, ah, I told her we'd keep the little one tonight. You know she hasn't had a day to herself in months . . ." Mulder was speechless for a moment. "SHE hasn't had a day to herself! SHE! What about me?" He screeched. "I'm the one who's trapped in this house with an infant all day every day. I'm the one who spends every day changing diapers and cleaning up baby puke. And cleaning the house. And while we're on that subject, when did you start leaving your socks everywhere? Do you know how many pairs of socks I've picked up in the last week? What happened to Mr. Ship Shape Marine who had a fit when I left books on the floor? Oh and you haven't taken the garbage out in a week!" Doggett stared at him speechlessly. "I, uh, I didn't know you felt this way . . ." Mulder began sobbing helplessly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just feel so trapped. You're off having adventures with Scully every day, and you know I love the little J. Edgar but sometimes . . .," He broke off to continue weeping. "Oh baby, I'm sorry," Doggett said and put a comforting arm around Mulder's shaking shoulders. "You should have said something." "It's okay. It's just that . . .the baby wouldn't nap today . . .cried for hours . . . and Oprah did a special on . . .kids . . .with . . . cancer . . . it was so sad. So, I fixed this nice dinner for us . . . to cheer myself up . . . and then you were late, and it's ruined. I can't do anything right I'm such a failure!" Mulder sobbed into John's shoulder. While Mulder had his face hidden, Scully had poked her head in through the back door and started to retreat when she saw what was going on. Doggett shook his head and made a come in motion. Mulder's sobs showed no sign of subsiding. "You live with this?" Scully asked raising an eyebrow. "Well, he's not always like this," Doggett hedged. Mulder raised his head from Doggett's shoulder. "I thought you were having a night to yourself," he said with barely disguised animosity. Scully traded a look with Doggett. "We . . . uh . . .," Scully started. Mulder shoved Doggett away from him. "You lied to me! Oh God, I knew I should have read that article in Cosmo more carefully . . . I knew it couldn't last. The hearts and flowers. The candlelight dinners. It was like a dream come true. I just knew it would have to end." "We don't do any of that," Doggett said bewildered. "What are you talking about? What article?" "Ten Signs Your Man is Cheating (And What to do About it)," Mulder said punctuating each word with a sob. "I knew I should have gone on that diet." "The hell . . .?" Doggett said looking helplessly at Scully. "He's not cheating on you, freak boy," Scully said firmly. "At least not with me." "Oh thanks for the vote of confidence there, partner," Doggett said. Scully shrugged. "What you do when you're out of my sight is not my problem," she said primly. "Well, then what where you doing?" Mulder asked, having calmed marginally, but his lower lip was still stuck out and his eyes watering precariously. "I was going to save it as a surprise and tell everyone at once, but . . ." Scully said, eyeing with disapproval her disheveled former partner and her dazed current partner. "I just bought the house next door. John went with me while I signed the papers and did a walk through. I thought it would be easier on you if junior and I were close by." Mulder didn't respond for a moment, but then realization dawned and a wide smile broke over his face. "You didn't!? That's fabulous!" He squealed. "Oh Scully, it's so perfect. We'll be just like a real family," "Yeah, one big, new age, alternative lifestyle, dysfunctional family. Just like the frickin' Brady Bunch," Doggett muttered under his breath. "Your Southern Baptist is showing, honey," Mulder said still grinning. He hugged Doggett tightly. "Don't worry, I forgive you." "For what?" Doggett bellowed. "I didn't do anything." Mulder looked at him severely. "Well, if you don't know, I'm certainly not going to tell you," he snipped. "But never mind that. I have a surprise for you." He hugged Doggett again and bounded out of the room. "Frickin' Ivy League, sissy-boys," Doggett muttered. "Hey! You didn't rearrange my bookshelves again, did you? I swear to God, if you . . ." Mulder re-entered the kitchen bearing a cardboard box. "Here. Open it." Mulder was nearly dancing with anticipation as he set the box on the kitchen table. Doggett looked at him balefully as the box moved a little. "Come on, John. Open it," Mulder said. "It's a present." "It's not Christmas or my birthday," Doggett said. "I don't need a present." Mulder's face fell. "It's an `I love you' present," he said looking wounded. "Don't be a spoilsport, John. Then man loves you," Scully said barely suppressing her snickers. "Open it." Hesitantly, John slid the lid off and looked at the box's occupant. A fluffy brown-furred head poked over the edge of the box, followed by two paws already the size of saucers. "A puppy?" Doggett asked. "In my house?" "Isn't he adorable?" Mulder cooed and lifted the squirming body out of the box. He handed the furry little animal to Doggett who took it reluctantly. "A puppy?" "He wandered into the backyard this morning. Poor thing was all wet and muddy, so I brought him in and cleaned up." "You washed a dog in the house?" Doggett said with deceptive quietness. Mulder ignored his tone. "He's so cute and so sweet. I knew we were meant to keep him." As if on cue, the little dog started to lick, Doggett's chin. "You brought a wet, muddy dog into my house!" Doggett howled. Mulder looked at him askance. "But you like dogs. Your mother said you always had dogs growing up." "Yes, we did. Hunting dogs. Big black, hunting dogs that stayed outside and earned their keep. Not fluffy little mutts that shed all over my . . ." Mulder's lip started to tremble again "our house and . . . What the hell is the point of dogs that don't hunt?" He asked in exasperation. Mulder grinned. "I love it when you go all redneck, macho man on me," he said putting the puppy back in its box and hooking a finger in Doggett's belt. "Gets me all hot and bothered." "I'll just grab my kid and leave you two alone," Scully said picking up the waiting baby carrier and diaper bag and slipping out the back door. "You're not going to talk me into keeping that mutt," Doggett said warningly as Mulder pulled him toward the stairs by the belt. "You're right I'm not. Talk that is," Mulder said. "Get upstairs, marine. I have some covert operations planned." "Oh Christ," Doggett muttered but followed. "How is this my life? Babies, puppies, next thing we'll be getting a fucking minivan." "Consumer Reports gave the new Dodge a five-star safety rating," Mulder said earnestly. Doggett paused on the step below Mulder. "You say one more word about minivans, and I'm going to dump you for Agent Harrison," Doggett growled in a tone that Mulder knew better to argue with. "I'm kidding when I do this," Mulder said hastily. "I love the truck. It's so butch," he said and made his come hither face again. "Some day you're going to get into something you can't talk your way out of." "Oh, I know; in fact, I'm counting on it," Mulder said. "Get up those damn stairs." Later, much later: "We're going to have to get new blinds for our bedroom window," Doggett said. "Why?" Mulder asked without raising his head. "The master bedroom of the house next door looks right into ours. It didn't matter when it was empty, but now that Scully's moving in . . ." "You think she would call the Falls Church PD and get us arrested for indecent exposure?" Mulder asked. Doggett looked at him funny. "No I was going to say, `did you really want to be looking into her and Monica's bedroom?'." "Ew, girls," Mulder said in disgust. "My thoughts exactly." "Now if had been Walt and Alex, on the other hand . . ." "What other hand? They haven't one to spare."