From:             "Agent Newbeau" 
Subject:          story submission P.O. Box 9847
Date sent:        Mon, 15 Sep 1997 06:32:49 PDT

Hi. This is a story I wrote over the summer and I thought I would submit 
it.

	P.O. Box 9847
	By: Agent Newbeau
	(karminoacid@hotmail.com)

	Hello and welcome to my story. It's sort of based on a song by The 
Monkees about a guy writing a personal ad. After repeated listenings of 
this song, (there is no such thing as too much of The Monkees) I thought 
it was perfect for a fanfic story. I can actually see Mulder doing 
something like this. Deep down it really bothers him that he has no 
personal life (videos and phone services don't count).
	This story is pretty safe, I would rate it G. No sex,  violence, or bad 
language, but it's still worth reading. Minor  references to Colony/End 
Game, Tunganska/Terma, Blessing Way/Paper Clip and Fire. Romance warning 
in effect so non- shippers bail out now. You know you can't fight it. 
They belong together. Do you hear me, Mr. Carter? They belong together. 
Advice to Chris Carter: Spend more time with Vince Gilligan. You might 
learn a thing or two.
	Disclaimer: Hey, Hey, I'm not Chris Carter, 10:13, or Fox, therefore I 
do not own the characters used in this story. I'd list them, but that 
would spoil the surprise. The song "P.O. Box 9847" was written by Tommy 
Boyce and Bobby Hart and performed wonderfully by Micky "No E in the 
first name" Dolenz. Sorry about that, but Micky has made the list of 
frequently misspelled names, right up there with Frohike and Krycek.
	
	Summary: Mulder tries to write a personal ad until a dream shows him a 
different possibility.
	Category: VR
	Rating: G
	Feedback: karminoacid@hotmail.com. I will try my very best to reply. I 
love feedback of any kind so whatever you think, e- mail me.

	And now to the story....

A Saturday afternoon in July
Apartment 42

	Fox Mulder sat, staring at the blank screen of his computer and tried 
to come up with something interesting to put in the ad. Was this what 
his life had come to, placing a personal ad to try to get a date?  
Scully was right, he didn't have a life. He took a deep breath and began 
to type.
	"Handsome, single young man, well respected in his town seeks a fine 
young lady from a similar background. Generous, responsible, successful 
man of means, socialized with Presidents and Queens. Reply P.O. Box 
9847."
	He stopped typing and read it over. "No, that's not right," he said to 
himself, deleting it. "Better try again."
	"Quiet, sensitive gentleman, well rounded and mature, fond of music and 
the arts, loves the theatre, educated, sensitive, a traveler of the 
world, wants to meet an eligible young girl. Reply P.O. Box 9847."
	"No, that's still not right. I've been to Alaska, Russia, and the 
spirit world, but nobody wants to hear about that. I want to forget 
those trips. As for education, well I got more than book learning at 
Oxford. Better do it again."
	"Lonely, understanding man, affectionate and true, looking for a girl 
to share his dreams and make them true. Humble, loving, sensitive, 
considerate, and shy. Only sincere ladies need reply. Reply P.O. Box 
9847."
	"It's still not right," he said, turning off the computer. Yawning, he 
got up and went to lay down on the couch. He soon fell asleep and began 
to dream.
	He was sitting on the couch watching TV when the door opened and in 
walked a woman carrying a baby and various baby items. "Hi, Fox," she 
said. "I have returned with your son. Did you miss me?"
	"Sam?" he said, realizing who she was. How was this possible? Sam was 
lost to him forever or so he had thought.
	"You were expecting maybe Tallulah Bankhead?" she said with a laugh. 
"Of course it's me. Now help me with all this stuff. I  never knew 
babies could be so much trouble. Makes me glad that Rick and I have put 
off children for a few more years." She handed him the baby and set the 
other stuff down. "I'd love to stay, but Rick's parents are coming over 
for dinner." She kissed him on the cheek and then leaned down and kissed 
the baby. "Be good for your Daddy, Micky. Auntie Sam loves you."
	After she left, Mulder sat on the couch wondering at just what was 
going on. Sam was back and he had a baby, but who was the mother? He 
looked down at the baby in his arms, hoping to find a clue. What little 
hair he had was brown and his eyes were blue, but that really didn't 
mean much. He knew that many babies were born with blue eyes that 
changed color later.
	He was still trying to solve the mystery when the door opened and 
Scully entered, carrying two grocery bags. "How did my boys do today?" 
she asked.
	"Scully? What, how... Hi, Scully."
	"We've been married for two years and you still call me that. What am I 
going to do about you, Fox?"  She set down the bags and took the baby 
from him. "Hi, Micky, did you miss Mommy? Mommy missed you."
	The baby began to cry.
	Mulder awoke with a start, knowing just what he had to do. That dream 
had been a vision of the future, a future that would be if only he would 
let it. He didn't need a personal ad to find the woman of his dreams. 
She had been there all along and he had never realized it.
	He picked up the phone and dialed a very familiar number. It wa 
answered almost immediately. "Scully."
	"Hey, Scully, it's me. You know the Science and History Museum is 
having that special exhibit on space travel and I was thinking that 
maybe you'd like to go with me and then maybe we could get something to 
eat, my treat. What do you say?"
	She didn't say anything for a long time and he was afraid he had made 
her mad or something. Then she said, "Are you asking me out on a date, 
Mulder?"
	"Yeah, I guess I am."
	"Then I accept. When do you want to go?"
	"How about tomorrow about noon? I'll pick you up."
	"Sounds great to me."
	"Great. See you then. 'Bye, Scully."
	"Bye, Mulder."
	He hung up the phone and sat down at his computer. He turned it on and 
deleted the ad. He wouldn't need it now.

The End.

What do you think? Love it? Hate it? Undecided? Wondering who Rick is? 
I'll explain in a sequel if there is enough demand. Sorry, I just 
couldn't resist naming the baby Micky. I do get tired of all those 
William's and Samuel's, not that I have anything against those names. My 
grandfather's name is Sam. I just wanted to be different. Is that okay 
with you? Too bad if it's not because "What I think is what I am."
One last thing, the line about Tallulah Bankhead is from some old radio 
show, I don't remember what it was. For those of you who don't know, 
Tallulah Bankhead was an actress back in the forties and fifties, I'm 
not sure of the dates and is also my cousin. She died sometime in the 
sixties.
The above quote is from Mike Nesmith.
Any and all feedback to: karminoacid@hotmail.com
Goodbye!

    Source: geocities.com/televisioncity/set/9847

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