TITLE: The Basement Where I Died
AUTHOR: Jean Helms (jeanlhelms@yahoo.com)
CATEGORY: Badfic
SUMMARY: It's intentional Mary Sue for a Haven challenge.
RATING: G for gag.
SPOILERS: None
DISCLAIMER: Do I need one? No one from 1013 would ever want to
claim this Mulder and Scully. But just in case they do, I fully
realize that I do not hold the copyright.
ARCHIVE: Probably not, but you can ask.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.

~*~*~*~*~

The Basement Where I Died
by Jean Helms


One day, Dana Scully came to work but Fox Mulder wasn't there.

"Oh, he's ditched me again," Scully said. "Why does he always do
that? Sometimes I think I should be with Assistant Director
Walter Sergei Skinner instead."

Just then the door opened and Fox Mulder came in. Standing next
to him was a gorgeously beautiful girl with titian hair down to
her slender, perfect waist and eyes that gleamed like two perfect
sapphires. She was dressed in very conservative Donna Karan that
brought out the azure of her eyes and the coral perfection of her
lips, but not even the immaculately tailored suit could hide the
perfect curves of her luscious body.

"Scully, I want you to meet our new partner, Jeanne Helmsing,"
Mulder said. "She's Assistant Director Skinner's favorite niece."

"She looks awfully young to be in the FBI," Scully said. "How old
is she, Mulder?"

"She's not even 19 yet," Mulder said.

"Not 19?" Scully said. "How did she get to be a special agent,
Mulder?"

"She's absolutely brilliant, Scully," Mulder said in a low voice.
"Her IQ is so high it can't be measured. She finished her
bachelor's degree when she was 8 years old. Not only that, but
she got the highest grades anyone ever made in the history of the
FBI Academy, and she passed the Massachusetts bar exam on her
first try when she was 12. Oh, and she's never gotten less than a
perfect score on her firearms qualification tests."

"OK, so she's a genius," Scully said. "That doesn't explain why
she's with us now."

"We've been assigned to investigate what could be a real-life
Phantom of the Opera," Mulder said. "There's apparently something
with a paranormal flavor going on at the Metropolitan Opera in
New York. Jeanne sang the part of Carmen when she made her debut
there in second grade, so Skinner thought she might be able to
bring some of her incredibly insightful investigative abilities
to bear on the case."

"Oh, Mulder, we are so lucky to have this beautiful, brilliant
young woman helping us," Scully said. "Welcome to the X Files,
Agent Helmsing."

"Why, thank you, Agent Scully," Jeanne said, tossing her
shimmering crimson locks over her shoulder. "We should get
started soon, but first, would you like to have some of my
freshly baked apple strudel? I got up at 3 a.m. and made it from
scratch so that we would have something to eat with the Jamaican
Blue Mountain coffee that I made for you from beans that I ground
myself."

"Yes, I would like that, Jeanne," Scully said. "I hope you don't
mind me calling you by your first name, but I suddenly feel that
I like you and trust you as I never have anyone before, not even
Mulder."

"Oh, pshaw," Jeanne said, blushing modestly. "I'm sure you and
Agent Mulder would be much, much closer to each other and much
happier if you would just sit down and talk about your feelings.
You should give each other another chance when you are angry."

"I can't do that," Mulder said. "I think I am in love with you,
Jeanne Helmsing. I'm sorry, Scully, but I've never felt this way
before."

"It's all right, Mulder," Scully said. "I understand. After all,
Jeanne Helmsing is so beautiful and so perfect that anyone would
fall in love with her. I forgive you. I would like to be the
bridesmaid when you and Jeanne get married."

"Oh, would you, Dana?" Jeanne said, and her cerulean eyes
sparkled as though they were sprinkled with diamonds. "I would so
love that. I will make the dresses myself; I was the head
designer at Vera Wang when I was 9."

"Well, you had better lay off the strudel, then," Dana said. "You
don't want to gain weight before the wedding."

"Oh, that's not a problem," Jeanne said. "I won an Olympic gold
medal in figure skating when I was 11, and I still practice four
hours a day. I never have to worry about my weight."

"That's good," Mulder said. "Say, shouldn't we be leaving for New
York? It's almost time for our flight."

"Don't worry about that, Fox, darling," Jeanne said, twirling
around on her magnificent Manolo Blahniks. "I'm licensed to fly
my father's Learjet. I have been since I was 6. So we can leave
whenever you're ready."

"See, Scully?" Mulder said. "I told you she was wonderful."

"Yes, you did, Mulder," Scully said. "She is so wonderful that
even though I've loved you for seven years and I am beginning to
think I am pregnant with your lovechild, I cannot be jealous. She
is perfect for you."

"That's so nice of you, Dana," Jeanne said. "And if you are
pregnant with Fox's lovechild, I will be happy to deliver it. I
am a certified nurse midwife, and I have delivered 36 babies
since I was 16."

"Well, we'd better get to New York, then," Scully said. She felt
really relieved because she didn't know much about delivering
babies even though she was a doctor but she always knew more
about psychology than Mulder did even though he had a doctorate
in it, but she thought maybe that was because he spent too much
time screwing Phoebe Green while he was in college instead of
actually studying.

"We don't need to go to New York, Dana," Jeanne said. "I have
solved the case while I was standing here tossing my perfect
titian locks over the opposite shoulder from the one I tossed
them over last time. The Phantom is an old man who came into the
Met to get out of the cold and fell into a pot of theatrical
makeup that made him look really scary but not as scary as Freddy
Krueger or Barney the Dinosaur."

"Oh, Jeanne, you are so wonderful and perfect," Mulder said. "You
are a much better profiler than anyone else has ever been in the
entire history of the FBI."

"Oh, Foxy," Jeanne said, demurely. "It's just a talent. I can't
take credit for it."

Scully was just about to ask the lovely Jeanne to be her
lovechild's godmother when a bad thing happened.

"Oh, oh, oh," Jeanne cried, tears running down her face but not
spoiling her perfectly applied Chanel makeup. "I don't feel well.
I may faint. Fox, catch me!"

And then she fainted and Mulder caught her.

"Scully, what is wrong with Jeanne?" Mulder cried. "She is so
pale and she has fainted."

Scully knelt down beside Jeanne and Mulder. "She has Eastern
equine encephalitis," Scully said. "She will be dead in about
four minutes, maybe less. It's hard to tell."

"How did she get that?" Mulder said.

Just then, Jeanne woke up. "I probably got it from being around
the stables while I was practicing for a dressage competition
with my incredibly expensive and gorgeously perfect Andalusian
stallion," she said. "We have been winning events together since
I was 1."

"Oh, no!" Mulder cried. "I cannot live without you, Jeanne. Isn't
there something we can do to save you?"

"No, Fox, my darling," Jeanne said, and tears clouded her
turquoise eyes. "I earned a masters' degree in epidemiology when
I was 9, and I know that there is nothing you can do ... except
.... you must marry Dana and love her the way you would have loved
me. You should be with her ... now ..."

"I can never love anyone the way I love you," Mulder said,
weeping as he took her slender, perfect hand in his. "Never."

"Well, you could at least try, Mulder," Scully said, and then she
burped because she really was feeling a little morning sickness
because of Mulder's lovechild.

"Yes, you must try, Fox, my sweet," Jeanne said. "But don't ...
don't forget me. Here: Keep this platinum ring with the 27 inset
diamonds and sapphires. I designed it and made it myself in my
jewelry studio when I was 13."

"Oh, thank you," Mulder said, weeping even harder. "Goodbye,
Jeanne, my only true love."

"Goodbye, Fox, my beloved," Jeanne said and then she died. Mulder
could tell she had died because her perfect ocean-blue eyes
closed real slowly.

"Well, that's that," Scully said, brushing the tears off her not
perfect face. "Jeanne Helmsing is dead. She was the bravest and
most perfect person I have ever met."

"Yes, she was," Mulder said, weeping so hard his shirt was
getting wet. It was making his undershirt show through and Scully
thought it looked sort of rednecky, but she didn't say anything
because of the lovechild and because she was still hoping to bag
that diamond-and-sapphire ring.

"Scully," Mulder said, "I hope you won't be too pissed off, but I
don't think I can marry you. No one will ever be like Jeanne to
me."

"I understand, Mulder," Scully said. "I loved her too. There will
never ever be anyone else like her."

And then the agents sat down at the table and ate the strudel
because there was no meal being served on their flight to New
York, just a little packet of peanuts and a bottle of lukewarm
orange juice.

~*~*~*~*~

END (thank God)"The Basement Where I Died" (1/1) 
Feedback will be fearfully received: jeanlhelms@yahoo.com