Scully held up a hand in frustration. "And if we don't have whiskey? Mulder, there are nearly two dozen of these creatures in here."
"Then we, uh, run?"
"In a professional
and calm manner?"
"You learn
fast, G-Woman." Mulder edged back a little more and bumped into the corner
of a table. "Ouch!" His gun clattered to the floor and he dived down
to get it. When he lifted his head, he stared right into the blue eyes of a
jackalope. "Scully--" And all went black.
****
"Mulder?"
He groaned and stretched. Every muscle in his body ached. Instinctively, he flexed his fingers, and then opened his eyes. Scully was standing over him, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a bag in the other.
"Mulder, are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah, yeah, where are we?"
"In your apartment," she said. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her brow furrowing in concern. "What happened to you, Mulder?"
He blinked. "Weren't we in Wyoming this weekend?"
"No. I spent time with my mother and you--" Scully took a look around the room "-- you said you had some stuff to do that you'd tell me about on Monday. Well, it's Monday, Mulder, and you're late for work. Skinner expected us in his office at 8 this morning and you were nowhere to be found. He wasn't happy." She leaned forward and gently brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. She grimaced. "Mulder, you're burning up, you have a fever--"
Mulder stared at her in disbelief. "We were *there*, Scully, we were in Wyoming looking for the jackalope--"
"Jackalope?"
"A cross between a bunny and an antelope--"
"I shouldn't have to tell you--"
"That that's genetically impossible?"
Scully's eyes widened. "Something like that, yeah."
"Well, we did find them--"
"We did?"
"In a diner. A whole herd of them--"
"A herd of jackalope?" Scully sounded nothing less than amused.
"They attacked us--"
"Right, Mulder."
Mulder shrugged, but even that slight movement made his body scream in pain. "Just telling it like I remember it."
"Mulder, we did not go to Wyoming. There is no way, absolutely no way, I'd go all the way across the country in search of a bunny--"
"You said that, when we were on our way to Opal, you said that," Mulder said. He coughed slightly. Scully put her hand to his forehead; her touch was cool and comforting. "We were there, Scully, *you* were there."
"And you have the flu," she said. "Here, lie back down. I'll get you some tea."
Groaning, Mulder fell back against the pillows. He could hear Scully moving around in the kitchen and in a few minutes, she came back with a steaming mug.
"Scully?" he asked in a hoarse voice. He reached up to touch her cheek gently, drawing his finger down the thin scratch she'd tried so valiantly to cover up with make-up.
"Yeah?"
"There isn't anyone else I'd rather go jackalope hunting with."
Scully offered him a patient smile as she carefully lifted the mug to his lips.
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