Title: Splinterwood
Author: Chaostic Ventilation
Feedback c/o: Char Hall (drakkar@bconnex.net)
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder and Dana Scully belong to Chris Carter, 
1013 and FBC. We, the authors, do not intend to make any money.  
Notes: 1996 Starbuck winner for 'Best Horror Story'!
**********************************************************

When his leg bumped mine, I thought I'd die.  Just
the feel of his pant-leg was enough to send shivers to the
core of my heart.  Although I seemed to be so wooden in
complexion, he didn't seem to care.   I could often feel his
hands on my surface, just running them up and down my smooth
stomach.  He doesn't seem to notice just how I react to him,
like it was mechanical for him. But I don't mind.  I
especially enjoy it when he rubs the oil over me, using the
rag to carefully wipe it off.  Oooh, that feels nice.

Some days I go hours without seeing him.  Sometimes
he brings in other people.  Sometimes he's just by himself.
At times he'll share his coffee with me and I get a perk up
in the morning too.  I'm always here for him, but one thing
always pisses me off.  When she's here.  I have to keep
my emotions in check, like I'm his mistress or something.
Like he's dating her.  What a joke.

She's his partner and I've never heard anything about
them being a couple.  I knew I had nothing to worry about.  I
wouldn't have to fight for my beloved Mulder's attention.  I
could sit quietly, unmoving, unspeaking for hours on end,
just watching those two at work.

She's in here now.  Those fat lips.  That obviously
fake red hair clashing with that tasteless navy jacket.
She's so uptight.  Not his type at all.  I've seen him in
here when she isn't around.  He dims the light and plays
videos.  Just for the two of us.  He likes busty blondes, but
I'm never jealous of them.  It's me that he strokes while
he's watching them  flaunt their stuff. It's me that he
nudges teasingly with hard penis, and it's my breasts that he
lays his chin across when it ends.

Bitch.  Look at her.  She's doing "paperwork."  Tell
me she isn't flirting with him.  For God's sake, her skirt
practically grazes her underwear when she sits like that.
Next she's going to call him over, so she can have a closer
perve.

"Mulder, come and have a look at this."

God she's predictable.  What is he woman, you're
*puppy*?  Can't you see that the man is busy?  If you want to
show him something, you can get off your little-hitched-up-
tight-navy-skirt covered ass and show him.

But no, she can't do that.  He has to be the one
standing, so she can see what his buns look like when he
bends over.  Desperate.  That's what she is. Desperate.

No, not desperate.  Downright fucking laidless-for-
months.  Yeah, that's it exactly.  Oh God, I think I'm going
to die.   He's getting out of his chair and moving slowly,
almost swaying his hips.  I think I'm going to be sick. He
bends down, squatting so he's her height.  She's so damned
short it's a wonder he doesn't step on her.  She looks at him
with those absolutely lifeless blue eyes and puckers her
lips, just inviting him to take a chunk.

I want to scream out when I realize he's whispering
something in her ear.  Something new is happening, something
I don't think I ever expected to see in all of my four years
of watching them operate.  His hand... It's... Oh, God, it's
on her leg, squeezing and caressing.  If I could turn my head
away, I would.  No, that's a lie.  I wouldn't miss this for
the world.  I'll file the fucking sexual abuse report myself.
And I'll claim rape for all the things he's done to me.  He's
having an affair, right in front of me. How could he?

He's lifting her, shifting her weight so that he can
carry her.  Oh man, they're coming this way!   I can feel my
skin crawling.  He's not going to put her on me, is he?  Oh
my God, he is!

Son of a bitch!  I'd never have guessed he was into
threesomes!  I mean sure he watches videos, but...  What am I
talking about?  Of *course* he's into kinky.  How else could
he stomach doing...  *that* with her? Must be some kind of
weird fetish where he's turned on by being repulsed.
Interesting...

Urgh!  That's not the point.  He could be into doing
it in dumpsters, and I'd go along with it.  The point is,
there is *no* way.  NOOO way I'm doing anything with her.
The man must be out of his mind...

That's it!  She's possessed him...  Or drugged him...
He wouldn't act like this normally...  Ha!  Just wait till he
wakes up!  I'll be witness to this one, officers!

Oh God!  No, no, no...  Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurgh!
I think I'm going to throw up!!!  Get.  Off.  Me.  You.
Fake-haired.  Perverted.  Slut.

"Ouuuuuuuuuuch!"

"What's wrong Scully?  What happened?"

"Splinter."

"Splinter?  What are you talking about?"

"SPLINTER, Mulder!  You know.  Little sliver of
wood!"

"I know what a splinter is Scully, but...-"

"Get it *out,* Mulder!"

"Well, I-"

"GET.  IT.  OUT!"

"But...  W-where is it?

"Put it this way.  You ain't gettin' any until it's
out!"

I had to stifle a giggle.  He'd never get it out.
That splinter was as good as in.  She's going to need surgery
just to remove that sucker.  I smirked for a few minutes
longer, until I realized he was going to try.

Oh no.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.

"All right, Scully.  Just tell me where it is and we
can work this out," he said.

"It's right in my ass!  Where the hell else would it
be?"

Don't ask that question, Agent Scully.  Next time
I'll shove it up your nose!  I smiled at that thought...
Maybe I'll do it anyway.

Damn!  She's shifting around on the desk now, on her
knees.  Ouch, those knobby suckers are diggin' into me.
Maybe I should throw something at her... Uhhh... What can I
throw, what can I throw, what can I throw...  Ah! Pencil Jar.
Perfect.

I heaved it at her.  It missed her, hitting Mulder
just as he was bending down to lift her skirt.  Hmmm...

"Ouch!  Goddam it, Scully.  Why the hell did you
throw that?"  he asked.  His eyes were flashing with anger
and he rubbed his head.  I could see a bump forming.  Damn!
How could I miss such an easy shot.

"I didn't throw anything, Mulder,"  Scully said.  I
smirked.  This is good.  Maybe if I make him made enough at
her, he'll think twice about what he's doing.

Instead, he grumbled and pushed her skirt up.

"Uh, Scully?"

"What?"

"Your hose are in the way."

"So?"

"So...  Uh, you gotta get off the desk."

She grinned then, a half-witted smile that only I
could see.  She wiggled her ass as she moved backward off me,
nearly landing in Mulder's arms.

 "Fuck the splinter, Mulder."

"But, you... I-"

"No, forget the splinter, Mulder."

He opened his mouth and blinked.  I could see his
Oxford-educated-130-IQ-obsessive-mind whirring overtime to
come up with a logical solution. Preferably one that wouldn't
get him hurt.  Seconds past and his eyes widened in
concentration.  Finally, just as I was beginning to fear for
his eye health, he blinked again, his enormous thinking
effort having culminated into one thought.

If he shut up he'd get laid.

He closed his mouth.

Huh.  That's what he thought.  They were *not* going
to do it.  Not if I could help it.  Not here, not now, not
anywhere.  I couldn't just kill the bitch.  I had to hurt her
so bad she'd have one of those complexes that no therapist -
Oxford educated or not - would be able to cure.  And him.
After tonight, I'd make sure he had a paranoid, irrational
fear of short red-heads forever.

Scully wriggled a little more until she was all the
way off me and kneeling on Mulder's lap.  I would have sighed
in relief, but her smug little face was still three inches
from mine.  I glared at her and she pretended not to see me.

Still facing me, she stretched up.  I could see
Mulder's face wrinkle in agony as her knobby little knees dug
into his thighs.

"I'm feeling..." she paused, obviously expecting some
response from her partner.  Mulder shifted uncomfortably,
trying to discretely move her knees to the less sensitive
muscles of his lower thighs.

"You're feeling what?" he managed hoarsely.

"I'm feeling kinky," she announced.

Mulder paled.

Then a smile appeared, slowly.  I wanted to throw the
pencil jar at him again.  Scully shifted to block my view.
Damn!  Well, at least she's not killing him with her knees
anymore.

I wasn't prepared for what happened next, though.  I
saw Scully in front of me one moment.  Then in the next, I
heard a scraping of the chair and suddenly they were against
the wall, Mulder pressing her between it and his body.  I
don't think I've seen someone move so fast in my life --
don't ask me how he did it.

I marveled, though.  I liked the position, I could
see his ass so clearly now.  Too bad her hands were there,
squeezing.

"Kinky, Scully?  I can give you kinky,"  he said,
whispering into her hair, his lips close to her ear.

"Uhhh."

"How do you want it?  On the desk, rough and hard?
On the floor, cold and calculated?  Tied to the chair?  Come
on, Scully, answer me."

"Any way, Mulder!  JUST. DO. IT."

"Ah, I like the way you think.  We'll try the wall."

Oh no.  I don't want to watch this.  I tried to close
my eyes, but couldn't.  This would probably beat any of those
cheesy movies, no matter how much I hate her...

NO!  I can't believe I just thought that.  I cringed
at myself and set my mind into action.  How can I stop
this... Hmmm...

I heard a moan and was startled back to reality,
unfortunately to see that she had his shirt off.  I watched
as the muscles in his back rippled as he pressed her wrists,
high above her head, against the wall. She struggled and
moaned again.  He trailed kisses down her neck, causing
her to wriggle with delight.

I had to think fast.  Think fast.  Fast.  Yeah,
right.  I couldn't find anything else to throw, so I brought
out my secret weapon.  I aimed carefully and then let it rip.

Several splinters of wood shot out of my drawer and
scraped angrily down his back taking bits of skin with them.
I'm sorry, my love, I have to do it!  It's for your own
good...  One day you'll understand.

"Augh!"  he cried.  The sudden shock of pain made
Mulder jump and he crushed Scully against the wall.  She
cried out.  "Jesus!  Scully, you don't have to scratch me!"

"Mulder, my hands--"

"Oh, my God...  What the hell is going on?"

He must've realized that he still had a hold on her
wrists.  Uh oh. I'm in for it now.  I've revealed my
existence.  Damn.

"Scully, I think it may be a poltergeist."

At least, I thought I had.

"A poltergeist?"  She pushed him none too lightly
away.  "A *poltergeist?* Mulder, *please.*  If you don't want
to have sex, why don't you just say so?"

Oh yeah.  This was more like it.

"No really, Scully.  Remember the pencils that I
thought you threw at me?  The splinter that lodged itself up
your-"

"*Okay* Mulder."  Scully's mouth pouted into a
skeptical little line, and I leaned back comfortably.  This
was going to be good.

"Okay you believe me?" The poor sod said hopefully.

She tilted her head and against all logic, her face
broke into a wide grin. "A poltergeist, huh?"

Mulder nodded vigorously.

I waited for her to pull off one of her pumps and
start laying into him with the spiky little heel, but instead
the smile widened even more.  She circled him slowly,
glancing around the office.  "I've always wanted to be
watched."

Say *WHAT?*  I spun around, nearly throwing my drawer
out.  Right.  This had gone too far.  I was stopping it now,
before they did something that I'd regret...  Well okay,
before they did something else that I'd regret.  Paper,
pencils and splinters flew off my top, while the desk chair
crashed over with a resounding thud.

They both twisted to face me, their eyes widening in
horror.

"The desk," Mulder said shakily.  "The ghost is
making the desk move."

Men can be so thick.

More than thick!  This man didn't have a brain at
all.  Especially if he thought that doing *her* would be
fun...   Yech, I didn't want to think about it.  I thrived on
my anger and suddenly, I had the urge to hurt them.  *Really*
hurt them.  I thought quickly...

Legs.  Check.  Drawers.  Check.  Splinter stock.
Check.

Alright.  I'm set.  I released a ravishing squeal and
set into action.  Mulder never expected what he got.  I poked
my leg out, connecting between his legs.  He screamed and
hunched over.

"That isn't a ghost, Mulder..."  I heard Scully say.
I think she was getting smart, because she was halfway to the
door already.

Oh no you don't.

I sent a sliver out, but she was quick.  I should
have known that FBI agents weren't going to sit there and
take my shit.  She ducked the sliver, hiding behind her desk.
The next thing I knew, there was a bullet
shredding my leg to bits.  As I watched the thick amber sap
begin to stream out, I could only think of one thing:  How
could he have ever trusted her with his life?  She's got such
a *bad* shot!

I sent out another sliver, but it tangled in her
hair.  I was mad now.  My aim wasn't always this bad!  I'm
claiming injury as my excuse!

I was about to focus myself and kill her when
something slammed into my back.  It was Mulder.  He had
knocked the papers and things off me and was now standing on
me, firing bullets into me like a crazy man.

Guess I shouldn't have tried to mess with his woman.

Tough!  She shouldn't have messed with my man!

I bucked wildly, trying to get him to lose his
balance.  He held fast.  Finally I stopped moving, pretending
to be dead, but he kept firing. Ah, I love this man, he never
gives up!

He finished off the last of his clip.  I smiled.  Now
I was going to get somewhere.  I bucked my back legs and he
went flying, landing on his back before me.  I put my leg out
and stepped on his stomach, which incidentally was still
bare.

I realized that I should never have let it go as far
as I had.  I should have deterred them earlier.  As I gazed
down at him, seeing the fear in his eyes, I suddenly felt
sorry.

It flashed by in an instant.   I didn't care.

"If I can't have you--"  I started in a harsh and
husky tone, but I was cut off.

"Then I can!"  Scully screamed.

I had been so busy trying to dislodge Mulder that I
had forgotten about Scully.  I twisted to look at her just in
time to see her swing the standard issue fireman's axe down
at me.

She chopped off the leg that held Mulder.

I didn't know the woman had so much strength in her.
I squeaked again, this time in agony.  The next swing took a
huge chunk out of my side.

She kept swinging.  I lodged splinter upon splinter
in her arms, but she refused to stop.  Even as her arms began
to bleed, she screamed and kept swinging.  Her fiery red hair
looked tousled and stringy.

Finally, her blows were getting to me.  I no longer
had the reserves to fight back.  I was slowly going under.

Let me share something with you.  Fellow desks, if
your master is planning to have sex on your top--no matter
how much you hate it--don't fight with it.  You don't want to
mess with horny women!

This one would be the death of me, I knew.

You especially don't want to mess with horny women
who have axes and guns.

She swung again, making a huge dent in my smooth top.
The wood grain was showing and I could barely move.  Then for
a little variety, the bitch pulled out her little gun and
fired a couple of shots into my drawers.

I managed to get a kick in, and saw poor Mulder crumple up
and pass out next to his own chair.

She might have had it all her own way, but she didn't
bank on my weapon of last resort.

The stapler.

Little metallic piece after little metallic piece,
until she looked like a bulletin board with pins stuck on.
Then I hurled my last drawer while she was picking one of
them out of her cheek, and got a lucky shot to her head.

They lay crumpled on the ground out cold, bleeding,
bruised and pissed until security came to find out what all
the noise had been about.

She came around as they were being stretchered out.
She was still pretty woosy, but I heard her say one last
thing before I hitched a ride with a friendly removalist in
search of safer offices.

"Fuck you, Mulder, you're too much trouble."

Who said that desks couldn't smile?


The End