Title - Chris Carter Writes a Smutty novel (1/1)
Author - Lucy Marchmont
E-mail address - lucymarchmont@hotmail.com
Rating - PG-13
Category - S, R, Humor
Spoilers - Fight the Future, All Things, Existence
Keywords - Mulder/Scully romance
Summary - Twenty years hence, Chris Carter decides
to write an erotic novel, detailing Mulder and
Scully's first time, only to discover that the
time delay has made it hard to find an original
idea.

Distribution: Sent directly to Gossamer. I am more
than happy for it to appear elsewhere, no need to
ask permission.

Disclaimer: Clearly nothing to do with me, but I
have my own multi million dollar fortune with
which to fight lawsuits - Chris Carter, if he truly
exists, belongs to himself.

Author notes: I discovered fanfiction very
recently, and only came across it by chance while
looking up the X Files (being overseas I was
curious to find out how the baby issue was
resolved), and this little piece is intended as a
tribute to all those talented authors who write
these stories. I have no idea if the following
scenarios exist, so apologies if there is anything
similar out there. Nor is this intended in any way
as a literal portrait of Chris Carter, about whom
I know very little, other than what I saw in a
television documentary late last year which stated
he was once a surfing journalist. And now, on with
the story . . .

Chris Carter was enjoying his retirement, no doubt
about it. Life was good, and he was pleased and
flattered that twenty years after its demise
people still loved and remembered fondly the
series that had made his name, 'The X Files.'

Yet he was still asked to explain 'THE TRUTH.'
How, the masses implored, did Mulder and Scully
get their baby, and when did they do IT for the
first time?

Ah, yes, IT. Few had equaled this achievement: one
of the sexiest shows ever made, and yet - No sex.

God, how he'd teased them, and God, how he'd
enjoyed doing so. He had laughed and laughed at
the disappointment caused by the near miss kiss in
the first movie, and the 'they must have done IT'
after 'All Things' had caused him many a mirthful
hour.

Patience, patience, he had mentally chided them.
He knew that one day he was going to give the fans
all the sex they longed for, but it was going to
be on his own terms. No one was going to push him
into doing anything, and that kiss at the end of
'Existence' would suffice for the time being.

A couple of years later he made a second film, and
he felt generous and indulgent (well, he might
have been thinking of box office sales as well,
but he wasn't going to admit to that) when he
included a tender love scene, shot in soft focus,
with Mulder and Scully doing IT in their new
bedroom.

The reaction of the audience was a shock. Critics,
audiences, message boards, and discussion lists
were incredulous. They refused to believe what
they saw. The verdict was that if Chris Carter had
written this scene, there must be more to it than
IT. After all these years, was it really likely
that Chris Carter would allow the TRUTH to be
visible? They concluded it was a drug induced
hallucination on the part of Mulder or Scully
(possibly both), or a dream sequence from the
sleepy world of an envious Frohike.

Chris Carter was surprised, but not despondent.
Well, if they chose to disbelieve, that was their
problem, not his. Besides, now he would go back to
his earlier idea, his retirement plan, and he knew
it was going to include a heck of a lot of sex.

Now, as he looked across the expanse of golden
sand which was the view from his office at home,
he thought of his own long held ambition. He was
writing a novel. A novel about Mulder and Scully
and all the great sex they had after overcoming
years of repressed handholding by hospital beds,
and intense forehead kisses. If that wasn't
exciting enough, he had a feeling it wasn't going
to be any ordinary kind of novel.

Oh, no, his gut instinct was telling him that it
was going to be part of a much more important
canon than the mythology of the X Files, that of
The Great American novel. For this novel had all
sorts of complicated themes, and subtexts, and
there were some passages of such incomprehensible
wordplay that it was sure to make the reading
lists of numerous college courses (and that ought
to bring in the royalties, he thought, doing a few
swift calculations). Could he provide the fodder
for essays following Freudian and deconstruction
theory? Of course he could.

He spent many happy hours, mentally penning the
congratulatory review in the 'New York Times,' and
imaging his epic work cruising its way to the top
of the bestseller list.

He already had a title, and it was a good one,
pretentious and literary. It was to be called
'Siege Perilous.'

Siege Perilous was the empty seat at King Arthur's
Round Table, reserved for the knight who was to
find the Holy Grail. Perfectly suited for Mulder's
quest, but with just the right touch of literary
allusion to appeal to college professors. Chris
checked that no author had used the title, and was
relieved to see that no published novel had.

Naturally, the novel contained an X File, that was
a given. He had even incorporated some of the
show's mythology, to draw those fans in too. A
little bit of intertextuality was always
appreciated. He didn't really understand all the
minutiae involved by now, but that had never
stopped him in the past either. Nor was he worried
about the case file sections of the novel. He knew
most readers would be thinking Blah, Blah, X file,
X file, as their sweaty fingers flicked through to
find the sex scenes.

The sex scenes. He was having more trouble with
them than he had anticipated. He knew he had to
get this aspect right, he was only going to get
one shot at the target, because he was creating
the definitive account of Mulder and Scully doing
IT.

Over the years his aides had informed him of a
phenomena called 'fan fiction.' In this fan
fiction, so he was told, Mulder and Scully had
sex, a lot of sex. He'd felt a little affronted on
learning this; they were his characters, damn it,
and only he knew their sexual needs and
peccadilloes. What was more, no one but him was
going to let them do IT, and he wasn't going to
allow IT anywhere other than his Great American
Novel.

Back to the sex scenes. He had written down a few
ideas in his ever present notebook, with lists of
the hows and the whys that had tipped Mulder and
Scully to face this final frontier.

His first idea was that Mulder was unable to get a
date for his high school reunion, and Scully
reluctantly had agreed to go along, posing as his
fiancee. It was cute, he thought, thinking of
Mulder infuriating Scully by flirting with his
favorite cheerleader (and now model for
'Playpen'), but maybe a little trite. Probably one
of those damn fan fiction writers had had the same
idea. He quickly used the search engine on a site
his secretary had told him about, called Gossamer.
Yep, thirty five fan fiction writers had come up
with that little scenario.

However, he thought smugly, it was THEY who had
copied HIM, for the X Files had had their own high
school reunion episode with 'The Rain King.' He
smiled when he recalled how he had had to
disappoint the writer of that one, Jeffrey Bell,
when he had forced him to remove the scene in the
script where Mulder and Scully had sex on top of
the dead cow.

Chris began to worry a little when he found a fan
fic entitled, 'How Mulder and Scully Came to Come
While Fucking on a Dead Cow.' Something about the
original script must have leaked out, he consoled
himself.

Still, it wasn't his only idea, there were many
others. Mulder or Scully, frightened by a
nightmare, ended up having sex with the partner
who was initially only trying to console them. Or
maybe it was the repercussions of a case that
ended up sending one or both over the edge, a case
where a vampire was trying to suck the life blood
from petite red heads and beloved younger sisters.
Another one he really liked involved a blow to the
head ('no, not the kind of blow to heads favored
by fanfic authors,' he smiled), resulting in
amnesia where neither partner could remember the
great sex they'd had after a night boozing and
marrying in Las Vegas.

Then there was the location to consider. A motel
room, Mulder's couch, Scully's bed, the
possibilities were endless. His personal favorite
was the Basement Office.

'Mulder swept the files and other debris from his
desk, and threw his partner upon it, and began to
remove her shoes, stockings, and panties. He did
so with a mixture of lust and reverence.'

He liked the sound of that. He awarded himself
some points for symbolism. For, as any self
respecting English Literature student would
observe, the Desk represented the Round Table.
 
When they had recovered they would have some more
sex in the elevator before leaving the building,
and then again at a motel - their passion was so
great that neither could wait to get to one of
their apartments.

Let it be understood once again, it was only
curiosity which made him check the Gossamer search
engine. What he found was disheartening.
Everything in his notebook had been done. Scenario
after scenario was taken.

With a weary sigh he wondered if he ought to play
dirty. He was as broadminded as the next man, and
he was trying to write erotica after all. Perhaps
he would have to think of something a little
kinkier.

He scribbled furiously: Mulder and Scully discover
they are hiring the same male escort. Best
friends, partners, and now sharing the favors of a
male prostitute. Social embarrassment abound, but
through the angst they admit their love for each
other, and the escort is no longer needed. It was
a bit seedy, but he thought he could deal with it
in a subtle and classy way, and there would be the
great sex when they got together.

He logged on. It had been done, only in the fan
fic Skinner was also sharing 'Brad's' services,
before the inevitable threesome with his two
favorite agents.

So had the next twenty scenarios he came up with.

In the course of his research he read a lot of fan
fiction. He began to feel a little insecure. Not
only had everything been done, but, well, some of
the sex was explosive. How was he to compete with
this? It was all smuttier than anything he had
come up with thus far.

In the realm of fan fiction every character
combination seemed to have been tried. Was there
anyone Mulder hadn't slept with? He had slept with
Krychek and Skinner just for starters, not to
mention Melissa and Margaret Scully, and even
Scully's Irish aunt Olive. It was fortunate, Chris
Carter thought, that he had killed Scully's father
off in the first season, and had never introduced
her brother Charles, for, no doubt about it, in
this world Mulder would have banged them too.

At long last Chris had his first time and his
location. There was nothing like it on Gossamer,
and it involved passions close to his own heart.
At least he didn't have to waste more time on
research with this backdrop.

His synopsis for his agent read, 'Mulder, modest
at his achievements in a certain sporting arena,
had never told Scully he was a surfer. So it was
quite a surprise when Scully, while vacationing in
California, came across him at a surfing
convention.'

He flicked through the four hundred pages of his
half completed typescript, his eyes drawn to one
line on page two hundred and forty two, 'As Scully
watched Mulder ride the crest of the next wave she
knew she wanted to ride him likewise.'

Was that line a bit corny? he wondered, briefly.
Oh, well, he liked it, and he skimmed the
following couple of paragraphs which were devoted
to Mulder's chest.

Chris closed his eyes and thought what a terrific
film it would make, with its beautiful surfer
locations as Scully followed Mulder round the
world to the best surfer gatherings: California,
Australia and Newquay in Cornwall, England. Scully
was looking pretty good in her green bikini too.
He had written a rather lush description of Mulder
removing the bikini, 'as Scully's cobalt (azure,
turquoise, aquamarine, sapphire-like all had to be
rejected because of fan fiction) eyes darkened
with desire.'

Now for the sex. Well, he thought he could handle
that without any trouble. He knew what the punters
wanted, and, whatever they thought of him, he knew
he could deliver. Could he spell cunnilingus? he
laughed. Actually, no he couldn't, but helpfully
the spellchecker alerted him to the double n.
 
At last, it was finished and perfect. Could he
hear his Pulitzer prize acceptance speech?
Absolutely.

Despite his pleasure at completion, Chris was
still troubled by a few paranoid thoughts. Not
even his secretary, not even his closest friends
and family, had been afforded a glimpse of his
masterpiece, so the chances of anyone stealing his
ideas were remote. But what if? No, he had
checked, it was fine.

But - just to make sure - he typed a few key words
into the search engine Google, only to find a
story of some ten thousand words, with almost
identical story and themes, housed on the website
of some little upstart calling herself 'Special
Agent Dr. Dana Katherine MSR Forever Scully-
Mulder.' So much for her disclaimer, 'Oh, but I
wish they were mine.' She'd fucked up his
millennium, that was for sure.

To add insult to injury, not only had she written
a terrific X file, her sex scenes were - well -
hot. Damn hot. Chris found himself loosening his
collar as he read about moist pulsating tunnels
and throbbing engines of love.

If this was not bad enough, to crown it all, Dr.
Dana had concluded her story with a wedding on a
beach after Mulder had won Olympic Gold for
surfing, and the epilogue described the elation of
the happy couple on the birth of quintuplets
thanks to IVF. How could he top that?

Chris Carter sighed. He had always been a secret
'shipper,' even when no one would believe it of
him.

Had he left it too late?

As a writer, he knew that a moral could be drawn:
that those who don't let their characters have sex
for years and years may find all the best first
times taken by others when they finally get round
to it.

It was no good. He was going to have to ask for
help.

He reached for his address book. Now, what was the
name of that retirement home where Vince Gilligan
lived?