From: "Chad K. Tanaka" Subject: Submission: G-Woman With a Gun Date sent: Fri, 10 Apr 1998 17:02:13 -1000 Title: G-Woman With a Gun (1/1) Author: Chad Tanaka e-mail: chadt@aloha.net Rating: PG (some cursing) Category: SH Spoilers: Not really. Maybe Anasazi Keywords: Mulder\Scully Friendship Summary: Mulder expresses his interest in Scully and her gun. This is not a 'shipper story, but a semi-humorous one that delves into the aspect of Scully's requirement to carry a defensive sidearm as a Special Agent with the FBI. Most of you have no interest in guns, but please bear with it - it's just a plot device to allow some playful banter between Mulder and Scully. This story is an over- compensation for the previous MSR stories I have written. I have no official documentation of Bureau procedures and regulations concerning firearms, everything is made up (so no flames nitpicking any inaccuracies). As always, feedback is welcomed, PLEASE! Hopefully you will be able to enjoy this story as an escape from The usual fanfic subject matter (which, incidentally, I love). Thanks! Disclaimer: Sadly, Dana Scully and Fox Mulder are the property of Chris "God" Carter, Fox Broadcasting and Ten-Thirteen Productions. Their characters have been used without permission, for purely entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. G-Woman With a Gun by Chad K. Tanaka FBI Main Headquarters Washington, D.C. 10:00am The sign said, "Authorized Personnel Only! Eye and Ear Protection Required Beyond this Point." Mulder held the door open for his partner. "I really hate these requalifications," Scully muttered as she stepped over the threshold. The wave of burnt gunpowder fumes hit her at the same time as the loud cracks of numerous service pistols being fired. She really hated having to do this. "Hey, you need to keep in practice, so the next time you shoot me, you won't kill me," Mulder yelled as Scully put a set of ear protectors on. "Keep pushing it and you may yet find out how good a shot I am," Scully retorted deadpan. "Oooh, them's fightin' words in my country," Mulder said teasingly. Scully just rolled her eyes at him and moved to her booth. She began to set up her equipment, just as Mulder was doing in the next booth. She and Mulder intended to put in a little bit of practice before actually participating in the monthly requalification course administered to all Bureau field agents. Okay, she went over the checklist in her mind as she put the items on the table in front of her: Bureau-issue .40-caliber pistol, check. Three fully loaded magazines, check Extra box of ammunition, check. One set of targets, check. Scully took a target and set it up on the automatic track that would carry her target out to whatever distance she desired. She toggled a switch on a side panel, and the target moved out to 25 feet - farther than most real gunfights she'd been in, but this distance would give her adequate practice in the accuracy department. She put her protective eyewear on. It's funny, she mused. We have to put all this damn stuff on when we practice, but never in the field. It was ironic. Whenever they were in the field, they could use ALL the protection they could get. BANG! Mulder's first shot brought Scully out of her reverie. She loaded a magazine into the gun and chambered a round. She raised the gun and began readying herself to fire. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mulder was staring at her, not even shooting. "What," she said to him quizzically. "Oh...nothing. Sorry." Mulder turned away back to his gun, obviously embarrassed about something. Geez, sometimes Mulder could be so strange, she thought. Scully raised her pistol in a two-handed grip and lined up her sights. She took a breath, let half of it out, then began to pull back steadily on the trigger. She always had a hard time pulling the trigger on her service pistol. With her petite fingers, she could barely reach the trigger, let alone pull the 12 to 15 pounds of trigger pressure with just her right index finger. The one-size-fits-all aspect of the standard- issue weapon definitely had her at a disadvantage. She continued to squeeze the trigger. The shot is always supposed to surprise you, she thought, so you won't flinch and ruin the... BANG! Yep, she thought. That was a surprise. She shot more rounds into the target, until her gun was empty. She put the empty pistol down on the table and toggled the track controls. The target made its way back to her quickly and she pulled it off the mount. Not bad, she told herself. All her shots made a ragged hole in the center of the man-shaped target's center. The size of the hole was no bigger than her balled fist placed over the target. "Hey, not bad, G-woman," Mulder said over her shoulder. He held a similar-looking target with virtually the same damage. "You seem to be doing okay yourself," Scully remarked slyly. "Well, such displays of masculine prowess are bound to attract the attention of fair maidens," Mulder quipped. "What is that supposed to mean, Mulder," Scully asked. Mulder was definitely acting strangely. But that was one of the reasons why she enjoyed being with him and working with him. He was wholly unpredictable. "What, I couldn't be a fair maiden if I shoot guns just like you?" She wanted to see how he was going to get out of this one. "Not at all. Look at this target, Scully. Tell me this doesn't turn you on," Mulder said with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ha! In your dreams, Mulder," She said as she turned back to the booth. She shot the rest of the time during their practice with a smile on her face. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "Well," Mulder sighed. "We made it through yet another dreaded requalification." Mulder held the door open for Scully and they both walked out of the firing range. "Yeah," said Scully, in an exhausted voice. "Time to trash another outfit because of that awful smell." She was in a rotten mood. Oh well. It was indeed over and done with, though. "Come on Scully," Mulder said "The smell will remind you of my incredible feats of marksmanship and make you swoon with desire." He looked at her with yet another smirk. "Mulder, are you feeling all right," she said, incredulously. "I think you're the one who's smelled too many fumes." She headed for the basement elevator. They walked together in silence for a moment, until they reached the lift. Mulder pressed the call button. "I've been thinking," Mulder said thoughtfully, looking up at the elevator floor indicators. "Uh,oh," Scully said. Mulder looked down at her. She gave him a humorous grin. He smiled. The two stepped into the empty elevator. Scully pushed the button to the basement, where their office was. "As I was saying," Mulder went on. "Something that I never under- stood was why do you suppose the Bureau originally issued you that tiny little gun when you first came aboard the X-Files? Did they think you were too much of a girl and couldn't handle the manly stuff?" Mulder appeared genuinely interested in this seemingly trivial matter, at least in Scully's eyes. He went on. "I mean, most agents wouldn't even have used that type of gun for a backup, let alone a primary sidearm." Why was he talking about this, Scully wondered. Well I seem to remember that I did very well with that 'tiny little gun,' thank you very much," she said with obvious pride. "Besides, it was a lot easier to shoot and carry than the monsters that we have now," Scully mused. "I've always wondered how you keep such a sexy profile with all that steel poking out of your hip, especially with our new 'monsters,'" Mulder practically leered at her. Boy, was he feisty today, Scully thought. "Well a good trenchcoat always helps," Scully said, dryly. "You should talk, though. The Bureau hasn't been any kinder to you," she added. "What do you mean," Mulder said, confused. "Mulder, this is the same Bureau that issued you no less than five different types of service pistols the whole time you were with me in the X-Files," she explained. "Regardless of the fact that almost all of them were chambered for a similar caliber, the mechanisms and handling were all different enough that you had to relearn how to shoot your primary sidearm every few months!" She shook her head at him. "And you think *I* was the only one affected by Bureau inefficiency?" "Well," Mulder replied with a straight face, "at least they went well together with my wardrobe." Scully could only roll her eyes at Mulder. He's incorrigible, she thought. Can't take him anywhere. She stepped out the elevator and headed for the office. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Residence of Dana Scully Annapolis, Maryland 7:30pm She was scrubbing, but the powder residue wouldn't come off. Damn, Scully thought. If Mulder were here, she mused, he'd do this for me. She hated doing this almost as much as requalifications. And it *always* followed a requalification. Shoot, and then clean your service pistol. "All agents will keep their primary sidearm well-cleaned and functioning per Bureau Armorer's specs at all times," she recited from the FBI's firearms manual. Yeah, fine. Whatever, she thought. The phone rang. "Shit," she muttered. Scully hated to answer the phone while she was cleaning her gun. She got all that cleaning crap on the phone and it would stain her clothes when she cradled the receiver on her shoulder. "Hello?" "Hey, Scully. It's me" "What do you want Mulder," she was not in the mood. No, sir. Not tonight. "Nice to hear from you too," he said. His voice was devoid of anger. "What are you doing?" She was about to say something derogatory, but just didn't have it in her at the moment. So, she decided to be honest. "I'm cleaning my gun, Mulder." "Oooh, glad I'm not there, or *I'd* be cleaning it for you, right?" "I wondered why you refused takeout pizza and a Knicks game on my TV tonight," she said, with a sly grin on her face. "They don't call me Special Agent Mulder for nothing , you know." She could see the smile on his face. "Mulder, how do you get the smell of all this cleaning stuff off you, anyway?" God, she hated that smell. It was almost bad as Formaldehyde and some of the other stuff she used during autopsies. But this was in her home, for crying out loud. "I don't," he replied. "Are you kidding," she cried. "This stuff is awful, how can you stand it?" "I kind of like it," Mulder said quietly. Now she knew why he was called "Spooky." "You're nuts, Mulder," she said. But she knew he could hear the smile behind it. Insane, but that's what I love about him, she thought wistfully. "I might be. But I like it...because it kind of reminds me of you." As soon as the words were out, Mulder fell silent. Did I hear him right, she wondered. She didn't believe she heard right. "Come again, Mulder?" Silence. "Mulder?" "Yeah, it reminds me of you," a bit more forcefully, this time. "The smell of gun cleaning solvent, a smell that I detest, makes you think of me. Thanks, Mulder." She was dumbfounded. "No," he pleaded. "I knew you were going to take it the wrong way." he sighed. He went on. "Any smell that has to do with guns - be it burning gunpowder or cleaning solution - makes me think of the empowerment a weapon gives you." Mulder didn't seem to be making sense, she decided. "I really don't understand this, Mulder." She didn't. She hoped he would continue. He did. "Imagine being in trouble, real trouble. And an...attractive woman comes along, and pulls out a gun. She authoritatively and power- fully takes control of the situation. She rescues the man...I mean, person out of trouble. That's a pretty powerful and exciting image, Scully," he said in an unsteady voice. "And you're talking about me, is that right?" Scully had her tongue fully in cheek. Mulder must be loving this, she thought. She had finished reassembling her cleaned pistol. She closed the slide mechanism, and it made a resounding "clank." "OOOH!" "What did you say, Mulder?" If she didn't know better, she would have suspected he was watching one his porno movies while talking to her. "N-nothing," he said in a pained voice. She had an image of Mulder biting his lip. "Did you hurt yourself?" He was really acting weird today. Wait a minute. Was Mulder getting kinky over me handling my gun, she wondered. No, that would be too weird, even for Mulder. "Mulder, what's with you?" She said sternly. "What is it about me and my gun?" Finally he responded. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, Scully. I...I think we've got something special, you know?" Sometimes, Mulder had it in him to say the right things, Scully decided, with a sweet smile on her face. "But sometimes, I think of you, you're so strong, so powerful, yet you're feminine too. All of that is intensified when I see you with your gun out, you know?" "No, Mulder. I don't." She wished he would explain it to her. "Okay, Scully." He blew out a breath. "Watching you shoot a gun turns me on." She could see him wince. She wanted to wince. "You've got to be kidding, Mulder!" She couldn't believe what he was saying. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. That much she was sure of. "I know, I'm sorry Scully, but I can't lie to you." He did seem genuinely sorry. What a pervert, she thought. But, it was kind of flattering and sweet in a Mulder kind of way, she thought. Can't take him anywhere though, she repeated in her mind. "Is that why you were staring at me when we were at the range today?" He must have been so embarrassed. She relished the thought. "Yeah," Mulder said quietly. "Sorry." "It's all right Mulder. You probably have some kind of psycho- logical theory that supports this type of behavior." "I think most men fantasize about being dominated by a strong woman, " he said matter-of-factly. "It would be better if your dream dominatrix wasn't your partner, though Mulder." She was starting to enjoy this. Images of Mulder being tied up, a whip, some black leather here and there. No, no, she shook her head. You're only buying into this male fantasy, she tried to convince herself. But, hmmm... "I'm really sorry I brought it up, Scully," he apologized. "Forget I said anything." "Okay, I forgive you," she said. "But don't get any funny ideas. I'm not that type of girl." She was just teasing him now. "Yeah," he sighed. "I know. See you tomorrow Scully." "Goodnight, Mulder." She hung up the phone. She sat and stared at her gun for a while. She couldn't help but laugh. Leave it to Mulder to make every waking moment an exercise in the realm of the truly bizarre. And, she decided, she wouldn't have it any other way. My Mulder. What a pervert. Then she picked up the gun and walked to the bedroom, where she kept it under lock-and-key. "Mulder," she said out loud. "I can't take you anywhere..." The End Okay, you made it to the end! Too technical? Too boring? My wife didn't like it, but I thought it would be funny to have Mulder be fascinated by the powerful aura Scully projects when she breaks out her gun. Tell me what you think. Drop me a line at chadt@aloha.net so I'll know whether I should do more similar stories, or if I should avoid putting anyone through this agony ever again!