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Title: The Truth About Socks 1:  For the Sake of
Curiosity 
Author: Amanda Larson
Category: X, H, Mulder Angst, M/S friendship
Rating: PG-13 for language and content
Spoilers: including sixth season, especially mythology
arc and including FTF

Summary: While on a case investigating why socks
disappear in the dryer Mulder and Scully get caught up
in something much larger than socks and Mulder finds
what may be a valuable link to the truth.

Disclaimer:  X-Files and the characters within it
belongs to Chris Carter and 1013 productions, I'm not
stealing them, just borrowing them for fun, not money.
 Sheryl, Tim and the featured animals believe it or
not are real people and were happy to be in this
story.

Archive: Anywhere just keep everything attached and
like it is.

Feedback: Yes, please let me know what you think.
***

For the Sake of Curiosity 
By Amanda Larson

Scully always wondered about my organizational
methods, particularly when it relates to my office,
probably because she has to look at it all the time. 
I guess she just doesn't understand geological
organizing.  I'll use this huge pile of paper that I
have been staring at for the last twenty minutes as an
example.  The new piece of paper goes on top, adding a
new layer to the mountain, like a volcano adding a new
layer of rock to the earth.  Eventually the layers
erode away like when I work my way down the pile to
find something.  Or in the event of a geological
disaster the bottom may suddenly surface, like when I
grab the bottom file.  Oops.  

That was definitely a disaster all over the floor and
Scully's chair and right on cue she walks through the
door.  Oh well, I guess after however long we have
been partners she has gotten to the point where she
can at least tolerate my messes.  Six years?  Is that
how long we have been partners?  

Doesn't look like it matters this morning she doesn't
look all that happy to see me.  Must be because of our
meeting with Skinner in a few minutes.  I don't know
why she is so upset with me.  It's not like I'm
looking forward to it either.  I'm the one he's not
happy with.  Besides, Scully doesn't seem to
understand that it is not her responsibility to make
sure that I stay out of trouble.

"Good morning Scully."  I attempted to see if I will
have an ally at our meeting.  She isn't responding,
just staring at the mess on the floor, now she is
shacking her head.  She won't even look at me. 
"Scully, I'm sorry I got Skinner upset about the
report.  I knew Skinner was expecting your report, but
I spilled coffee all over it.  I didn't think it would
be a big deal, I guess he didn't like my explanation
of the events."  She still won't look at me.  Come on
Scully please look at me.  Now she turned around, is
there something more to this that I'm not seeing?  

She is shacking.  Did I make her cry?  I walk over to
her attempting to comfort her.  I put my hand on her
shoulder, but she pulls away.  "Scully?" I asked.  Oh
please tell me what's wrong.  I try to look into her
eyes.  Then I see her face.  How could she?  My evil
partner Scully is standing there laughing at me.

"I'm sorry, Mulder.  I don't care what Skinner thinks
about your report.  I'm sure that it is very creative,
but what were you doing with those papers?"

"Nothing."  She smiled at me again, that's better.  

"Just like the pencils in the ceiling?" she asked
obviously enjoying herself.

"I need something to do while I wait for you."  

"How about you try sleeping and get here at a
reasonable time?  You're either late or ridiculously
early."

I guess there is a lot that Scully doesn't understand
and I don't have time to explain.  It's time to go pay
a pleasant little visit to Skinner.

***

"Agent Mulder, I find it hard to believe that Agent
Scully wrote this report."  I wouldn't believe it
either if I were him.  I may have added a little too
much of my own opinion, which may not have necessarily
fit in with her scientific description of events.

"I accidentally ruined hers so I wrote another one." 
I didn't want to tell Scully I ruined it.  I thought
that the entire thing was not based on the same case
that I thought we had been investigating.  Maybe I
subconsciously spilled the coffee on purpose.

"I don't want to read another one of your reports.  I
have a meeting in a few minutes, so I don't have time
to discuss what I think about your finance spending. 
I have a case for you I don't want any complaints,
just take it and go."

Great this is going to be great.  I take the case from
Skinner only because I can't handle the suspense if
Scully gets it first.  She takes the files and
examines all the pages before I get to look at it.  I
have to look over her shoulder to see what she is
reading.  I got this one first and she doesn't have a
chance to formulate her arguments against anything she
knows that I am going to say about it.  I'm pretty
sure she can read my mind.

Skinner saw me begin to open the folder, "Mulder, read
it somewhere else so I can have my meeting in peace."

I didn't know whether to be angry with him or excited
about this new case.  We are back on the X-Files now
so what ever it said it could not be as bad as the
damned errands that Kersh always had us on.  Scully
and I leave the office.  We walk past Kim and she
smiles and nods at us as we walk by she is busily
talking on the phone.  I like her; she's a nice
person.  So much better than the secretary Kersh had
working for him.  I don't know what her problem was. 
Ever sense our trip to Area 51 she had been looking at
me funny.  

When we get into the hallway I start reading the case.
 Ha!  Scully is too short to read over my shoulder.  I
have to admit out of all the expectations I had for
the case, this wasn't one of them.  Oh boy, Scully is
going hate this one.

"What is it, Mulder?"  I must have a strange
expression on my face.  Even for an X-Files this is
weird.  I better let Scully read it herself or she is
going to call me a liar.  I hand her the file and she
greedily takes it from my hands, that's Scully.  I
might be a lot bigger than her, but she never lets
things like that get in her way.  

"This has got to be a joke," she says in disbelief.

"You heard Skinner, no complaining."

"Do you think Skinner even read this case file?"  

I shrugged, it sounded interesting enough to me.  "I
would say that it is one of the great X-Files along
with big foot, the loch ness monster, and even UFOs."

She looked up at me with raised eyebrows, "Socks,
Mulder?"

"Why not, aren't you even slightly interested?"

"In where missing socks go?  No, to be completely
honest I'm not.  I am an agent with the FBI.  I
investigate things that are a threat to our society. 
I know we investigate strange things, but I don't see
how socks disappearing in a dryer is endangering
anyone's life.  If someone has a problem with their
dryer they should call the Maytag repair man, not the
FBI."

"Scully you got it all wrong.  It is not a dryer, it's
everyone's dryer.  Don't your socks disappear?"

"Mulder, I am not interested in discussing my
underwear with you.  Besides even if they do disappear
who cares?"  Now I'm really smiling.  I actually
wouldn't mind discussing her underwear, but I suppose
I should focus on the case and she is my partner.  A
gorgeous, caring, wonderful female partner.  I respect
her enough to let her keep her privacy, whatever
little she has left of it.  She spends the majority of
her life with me on cases, I hope she doesn't consider
that a bad thing.  Besides, I wouldn't mind knowing
about the socks, not that I would notice if any of
mine were missing.

"Sheryl Stevenson cares."  I don't know why she cares
enough to demand a FBI investigation.  I suppose the
strangest part is why the FBI excepted it.

"That's one."  Okay, she doesn't find it very
interesting that's okay.  "Let's get this over with."

"You're looking at this all wrong.  Do you have
somewhere you need to be."  Her look tells me she
needs to be anywhere but investigating socks.

"How's this any different than a background check?"  I
want to do it, sounds interesting, need I continue? 
She gets it.  "Okay let's go."

I took my case file and headed towards the car.  I
don't know why, but nothing is going to stop me from
investigating this case.

***

We should have gone first class.  Skinner would love
seeing that on the finance reports.  It would have
been worth it to have had some legroom for our cross
country trip to Auburn, Washington.  After our not so
enjoyable plane trip we spent the next forty-five
minutes trying to find this house that was only a few
minutes from the hotel.  

Scully was a little annoyed with this whole case,
maybe a lot annoyed, but the house had a nice large
yard with a lot of trees.  It was an All-American
house with the flag proudly waving in the front and a
basketball hoop in the driveway.  "See, Scully, at
least they aren't anti-government rebels."  That got a
little smile out of her

We walked over to the font door and Scully rang the
doorbell.  I looked into the large front window. 
"What the hell is that?"  I said partially to myself. 


"What?"  Scully asked.  "Where are you going, Mulder?"
 It probably looked a little strange.  I was tiptoeing
through the ferns in front of the window.   There is
something strange hanging from the ceiling.  It looks
like a missile.  "Scully I could be wrong about that
anti-government rebel thing."

"Mulder, get out of there, I hear someone coming." 
Okay, it probably wasn't the brightest thing that I
could have done being an Oxford grad and all, but I
dropped down on my hands and knees to hide in the
ferns.  Now Scully is shacking her head at me again.  

I crawl out of the bushes in a hurry.  Just in time to
be at Scully's side when the door opened.  My suite's
knees have a lovely coating of mud.  Mrs. Stevenson
doesn't seem to notice.  The woman is a heavyset with
short very curly graying hair and a large nose with
slightly high cheekbones.  She is wearing a worn out
sleeveless, black with flower prints dress and a very
large smile. 

She extends her hand to greet us.  "Hello, I'm Sheryl
Stevenson, come in."

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Stevenson, I'm Agent Scully and
this is Agent Mulder."  I'm still thinking about what
I just saw in the window, so I'm glad Scully handled
the introductions.

"Call me Sheryl."  She motions for us to come into the
house.  I follow Scully in and being my graceful self
trip over...what did I trip over?  I ended up on top
of a row of library books that had been piled next to
the door.  Now Sheryl's hallway looks like my office. 
What is that sound?  It sounds like they have Cujo in
the garage and... Wow!  I don't think that I have ever
moved that fast.  Cujo's friend devil dog came running
at me.  Of course I just slipped on more of the books
and just fell on my face and my poor ribs.  Someone is
yelling, "Bad dog!  Bad dog."

Okay so it a little green parrot screaming at me and
devil dog turns out to be a golden retriever with one
of those nifty red light up balls in his mouth.  Oh
shit.  I just found what I tripped over.  A military
style ammunition box.  Scully is saying something to
me, but I'm a little distracted by the row of rockets
on the fireplace.  Not to mention the things that look
like pipe bombs lying on the table in their living
room next to some laptops and a computer monitor. 

The teddy bears and the art supply corner are a nice
contrast I suppose.  So are the fish tanks and
birdcages.  I also think that there's a flock of birds
down the hallway.  Ouch.  Something just rammed the
back of my head.  A hamster in a clear plastic ball is
trying to pull my hair in through the tiny air slits
in the plastic.  Sheryl is laughing and Scully is
obviously as perplexed as I am.  Sheryl picks up the
ammunition box and sets it aside.  "I told my husband
to put that thing away yesterday."  I'm not going to
ask.  She then turns the hamster in the other
direction down the hallway as Scully helps me to my
feet.

"How about we talk in the dinning room.  I made some
cookies."  Now I know we've fallen straight into the
twilight zone.  I don't remember my mother ever making
cookies and that was the sixties.  Though who am I to
argue with cookies.

I manage to get off the book pile with Scully's help
and we follow her around the corner to the kitchen.  I
don't see a dinning room.  Why does this woman need
library books?  I have never seen so many bookshelves
in one house. Some libraries don't have this many
books.  I probably should have restacked those books I
kicked all over the hallway.  Did she say she had a
few cookies?  The kitchen counter is covered with
cookie platters.

Sheryl carries one of the small plates of cookies into
the room next to the kitchen.  Not exactly what I
would call a dinning room.  One wall is taken up by a
giant birdcage the opposite wall by a slightly smaller
one.  Another wall has a table pushed against it that
is covered with plants.  The last wall, another
bookshelf.  Please tell me that wasn't a rat I just
saw in that large birdcage.  No, there is something
just like whatever it was in the other cage.  They're
chickens, really little ones.  As a matter of fact
they're about the size of really big chicken nuggets.

"They're button quail," Sheryl tells me.  I guess she
wouldn't want me to eat them.  Those cookies look
really good and I'm really hungry.  They're good
cookies, really good.  "Excuse me for a minute, the
dryer is finished, don't want those dress shirts to
get wrinkled.  You know how it is," she says to me. 
Uh, sure I do.  Sheryl gets up and leaves the room.

All right I'm sure there is a perfectly logical
explanation for all of this.  Right Scully?  "You're
doing it, Mulder."

"Doing what?" I asked defensively.

"You're making that face."  Enough with the panic face
thing Scully.  I really don't know that it was a very
good idea to come here.

"You don't look like Ms. Calm yourself."

"Well I do think that the rockets, ammunition box and
pipes are strange."

"That's all you think is strange?"

"Okay Mulder, none of this makes sense, but you were
the one that let me walk in here after you saw that
fifteen foot rocket hanging from the ceiling," she
responded in a harsh whisper.  I shrugged, fine.  I
can take it.

Sheryl walks back into the room and looks at me
obviously very excited that we're here.  "I saw you on
the Jerry Springer Show.  It didn't have anything to
do with socks, but I knew that you were the kind of
open minded person I needed to help me.  I can't stand
to watch that Jerry Springer show any more, it gives
me a bad feeling about society.  You know?  It's like
watching a train wreck and you know that there just
going to fight part way through then he'll do his
final thought.  It really gets old after a while.  I
do love to watch Martha Stewart though, she is so out
of touch with reality.  I don't know what planet she's
from."  Oh no, not that Jerry Springer episode again. 
I'm sure this case lost all sense of respectability
that it had in Scully's eyes.  Yep, she has her 'Oh
please, Mulder' face on.

"But why start an investigation about socks?" I asked
trying to keep Sheryl on track with the discussion
we're trying to have.

"It's a story that needs to be told, Agent Mulder." 
Okay, this lady is even stranger than me, at least I
hope I don't come across as being that strange.  I'm
not going to completely write her off though, not like
everyone has always done to me.  I suppose this sock
thing might be a legitimate concern in some ways. 
Besides I'm all for making sure that the truth is
told.

Scully is getting ready to say something, this could
be bad.  I wish I could read her mind.  "So Sheryl,
what do you think happens to the socks?"  That was a
very good question, Scully, and you only said it with
mild sarcasm.  I don't deserve that nasty look, I knew
Scully was psychic.  Even though this isn't my fault
I'll make it up to her later.  I don't know how, but I
will. 

"I don't know, it's the dryer.  I don't know if they
are falling into another parallel universe or through
some wormhole, maybe aliens.  That's why I asked you
guys to come here.  All I know is that they go in as
pairs and they don't necessarily come out that way. 
Nothing else disappears in the dryer, perhaps socks
are just the right size and no one would notice things
like underpants that are the right size but don't come
in pairs.  I just thought of something it may not only
be socks.  What about gloves?  How could you possibly
clean out an entire closet and find single gloves? 
You don't put one in the closet then throw the other
away, it just doesn't happen."

"Sheryl, I don't mean to sound rude, but could you
please explain to me why this warrants the
investigation of the FBI?"

"I don't think anyone is in danger.  There is the
financial concern, think about all the money that is
lost because people can't wear all their strange
colored socks.  It's just socks now, but what if it is
a test to see if we notice?  Who's to say twins won't
begin to disappear?  You put two in the bathtub and
one comes out.  I don't believe that it is really a
concern, but if you don't investigate how will we
know?"

Scully is really rolling her eyes now.  Even I have to
admit my endless possibility philosophy is wavering. 
Either way I can't side with Scully.  Sorry about this
Scully.  "So what's your explanation?" I ask her.

There is the best glare I've gotten all day.  She knew
I had to ask.   "I think that..." Scully speechless? 
She wants to say that this is crazy she doesn't care,
but she is more considerate then that.  All eyes are
on Scully.  I think that even those quail thing
stopped running in circles to look at her.  "this case
falls under the category of things best left
unexplained.  It just doesn't have any relevance
too...."

"Who died and made you the goddess of what is
important, what is worth time to investigate?  You're
here under my taxpayer dollars.  Why do you get to
decide what is worth the time to investigate?  What
about Agent Mulder?  Does he have to drop the case
because you don't deem it worth your time?"  Oh no,
lady, you keep me out of this.  You and her discuss it
amongst yourselves and bring me back into the
conversation once you two have settled everything.

Now Scully is looking at me like this is my fault,
again.  No Scully, remember Skinner gave us the case. 
This wasn't my idea.  Scully turns back to Sheryl. 
"You're right."  She is?  Did Scully just admit to
having a God complex?  Or should I say goddess
complex.  "I just don't know how we would go about
investigating such a case."

The knock on the door pulled us all from our sock
discussion back to a more conceivable reality.  I
wonder who it is now.  Did anyone pick up those books?
 I have to hand it to Cujo, he's nothing if not
persistent.  Sheryl excused herself to answer the
door.  I'm feeling particularly brave at the moment. 
I follow her down the hallway.  She opens the door and
it is who I assume to be Mr. Stevenson.  He walks in
obviously surprised to see me there.  "Hello, Mr.
Stevenson.  I'm Agent Mulder."  He extended a strong
hand for me to shake.  

"Sir, I need to ask you and your wife a question." 
Sheryl looks at me surprised.  "What is all that
equipment in your living room?"

"The rocket equipment?  It's for model rocketry. 
Those are the engine tubes on the table and the fuel
is in the ammunition boxes.  It's a great hobby, you
interested?"  

"No," I reply absently.  Model rocketry, not some
terrorist's bomb setup.  I nearly had a heart attack
over model rocketry equipment.  I really need to
relax.  I need to go back to the hotel and zone out in
front of the television.  I didn't realize it, but
Scully is standing behind me.  

We sat around and talked for a long time with Sheryl
and her husband.  Every time Scully or I would make
some attempt at leaving Sheryl would have one more
thing we had to hear, about two hours worth of it. 
Don't get me wrong, I'm not really complaining.  I'm
starting to really like her.  Like what I said about
Kim, she's just a nice person.  Usually we deal with
angry and hurt people.  This is a whole different ball
game and I kind of like it.  

Her husband fell asleep in his chair shortly after he
came home, and boy can that man snore.  We had trouble
talking over him.  I really hope I don't snore
anything like that or when I do finally work up the
guts to get my relationship with Scully going beyond
work she's not going to want to sleep in the same
apartment I am.  Not that Scully and I have time for
that kind of thing, but maybe we should make it.  

Hell, what am I saying?  We're both workaholics. 
That's why we're here when we could be spending the
weekends at a movie or something.  I sure am being
presumptuous in assuming that if Scully had time off
she would spend it with me.  

At least I know most of what there probably is to know
about the Stevenson family.  That golden retriever,
devil dog or Bubba as they like to call him, is
psychic.  Sheryl told us, but I even witnessed it
myself.  Exactly at 7:30 p.m. that dog comes into the
room and starts barking for someone to feed him.  They
say he does it every night, might be worth some
further investigation, but Scully vetoed it.  

There goes Tim again.  He jumps in and out of the
conversation.  One minute he's snoring, the next he's
talking.  Excluding the extreme background noise and
the fact that we couldn't get out of the house
everything was going pretty good, until we decided to
leave.  

"Mulder we need to get back to the hotel," Scully
finally said.  Even Sheryl couldn't find a way around
that one.  Scully and I get out of your chairs to say
our good-byes and what do I do?  I fall down onto the
floor again.  This time it was that hamster in the
little plastic ball, ran right under my foot and I
kicked it right across the room.  I landed on top of a
tall lamp and send it smashing to the floor.  

Some how Scully manages to get me to my feet and I
finally see the carnage my latest little escapade has
left in its wake.  Hope they didn't like that lamp, or
the lampshade, or that chair that happened to be in
the way.  Looks like this was another big oops on my
part.  I guess the taxpayers are buying the Stevensons
a new lamp and chair.  I wonder if I could disguise
that as a work related cost in our next expense
report.  Either that or I hope they don't mind really
cheap replacements.

"I've needed to replace that ugly old lamp for years
and that recliner didn't work.  Don't worry about it,"
Sheryl assures me.  Yeah, okay, but I'm sure I'll be
getting the bill.  "Thank you so much for coming it
was such a pleasure," she says cheerfully.  Maybe I
won't have to pay for it, but I should.  At least the
hamster was okay.

I assured her I would pay for it and said goodbye to
them both before making my hasty retreat followed by
Scully who I have likely succeeded in completely
embarrassing.

End 1/3