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From: measi2@aol.com (Measi2), Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative, Subject: Pinecones-New Story, Date: 28 May 1995 18:46:52 -0400

Happy Memorial Day weekend everyone!

This is a really short mind-break I finished this morning in my head... doing the same thing Scully's doing in the story. There's absolutely no plot. Just a scene. =)

Enjoy!

Comments welcome. Send to mkent@acs.bu.edu or Measi2@aol.com

Pinecones

by Melissa Kent
5/28/95

Dana Scully crawled around the base of a pine tree on her hands and knees on a warm Sunday afternoon. She had agreed to help her mom with some spring yardwork that afternoon and somehow had ended up doing the same remedial yardwork she'd done as punishment in high school-picking up pinecones.

She ran her hands through the grass to find the half-embedded cones so she could dig them up. There were a ton of them. Scully thought. She dug up another handful and created a new pile on top of the grass. She'd pick up the piles after she finished digging them. Right now she didn't want to deal with getting the trashbarrel.

Although she hated digging the cones up, she'd pleasantly discovered that the simplicity of the chore allowed her thoughts to drift. She'd already covered the lack of her love life, her sister's most recent New Age discovery, but she had purposely avoided any thoughts about work, and specifically about...

"Hey Scully. What are you doing?" the familiar voice broke her train of thought.

... about Mulder.

Scully sighed, but smiled. Well, maybe at least the thoughts can stay off of work. "Hi, Mulder. What brings you over here?" She stood up and brushed the mud off her hands.

Mulder walked through the soggy grass so he wouldn't have to shout.

"Your mom called me a couple hours ago. Invited me to stay for dinner if I'd help her lift a few pots."

Scully raised an eyebrow and bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing. "A few pots. Yeah, right. I think she means those whiskey barrels from hell."

Mulder blinked. "Whiskey barrels?"

"Yeah. Mom bought them about ten years ago at a local gardening center. They're really pretty planters. But since they're full of dirt, they're impossible to move."

"So why doesn't she leave them outside."

"They *are* outside, Mulder. She just wants to move them to the front steps from the backyard," Sculy said. "Hopefully the wheelbarrow still works. I don't think you can lift those things otherwise."

"They're that heavy?"

"Yup," Scully smiled again as she saw the slight sagging in Mulder's shoulders. "Let me pick these piles up, and then we'll go find Mom."

"What are you doing over here, anyway?"

"Picking up pinecones," she sighed.

Mulder nodded, understanding the sigh. "Is this corporal punishment in the Scully household, or did you offer to do this?"

"Both, actually. But I didn't realize there were this many cones in the yard."

Mulder shrugged. "Why don't you just let the lawnmower pick them up."

She stared at him incredulously. "That'll ruin the blades of the mower. Besides, there's a ton of them out here."

"Oh."

Scully grabbed the lid of the trashbarrel and started throwing the piles on it. Mulder started to work on another pile nearby. They were almost finished picking up the piles when Mulder made a face and threw a pinecone back onto the grass.

"What's the matter?" Scully asked, concerned.

Mulder wrinkled his nose even more. "Something gross on a pinecone."

Scully picked it up and rotated it until she saw what Mulder had reacted to. "Oh give me a break, Mulder. It's just a slug."

"A what?"

"A slug. They're just slimy blob things that latch on in dark, damp places," she replied, shaking her head. "I can't believe you freaked over a slug."

"It was squishy and sticky. I didn't know what it was. I thought some kid had spit or blown his nose on a pinecone," Mulder protested.

Scully noticed the defensive, wounded tone in Mulder's voice and decided to play on it for a while. "After all the things we've gone through, you get grossed out by a measley slug?" She laughed, considering the irony of it all.

Mulder sighed and started to protest again, but stopped before he said anything. "Oh, nevermind," he muttered.

"Come on, Mulder. Let's find Mom." She snapped the lid on the trashcan, and grabbed one handle as he grabbed the other, and they both stumbled across the yard with the can between them.