by K. (1013@hehe.com) and Windsinger@aol.com (AKA Sue Esty)

2/23/96
 
 

Disclaimer: We don't own these characters and we don't mean to hurt

anyone's feeling or take candy out of the mouths of babes. We love

CC, DD, GA, and the Quantum Leap crew.
 
 

Warning: This is NC-17 or very nearly so. At least we think so.

Maybe not. Someone with kids between 13 and 17 tell us if this is

NC-17 or not. Lots of really BAD jokes, some bathroom humor, lots

of lust of various kinds, no violence except for cats dropping on

your head and chewing your ankles and the sex is heavily implied

but not graphic.
 
 

    K.'s notes:  I came up with the idea for this story and the

first chapter and then had no idea where to go with it from

there, so I sent it out to the Xangst Anonymous mailing list as

a tag team story. Sue and I began conversing about the story through

e-mail and she had a fantastic plot and some really great ideas,

so we decided to work on the story together. I have to admit that

Sue wrote almost all the rest of the story, but I've had a ball

with this! I eagerly awaited her e-mail installments and bombarded

her with my opinions and ideas. Besides all the fun I had, I made

a friend to boot! ;-)
 
 

     Windsinger's notes: This is a real diversion for me. A story

completely for fun!!!! and for outrageous plotting!!!! and for

animal lust!!!! and because I love QL and XF!!!! K., thanks

for starting this craziness. I needed a little bit a craziness in

my life, and thanks for putting up with my unbridled imagination.

No, Scully would not exactly act this way. (Scully, no, not the

gun!) And thanks to Micro, my husband's 18 year old cat. Seven

pounds of skinny inspiration who sits on top on my computer monitor

when I type (where it's nice and warm) and wants to know why

writing stories is more important than feeding her!
 
 
 
 

Mulder's Leap (1/9)

1013@hehe.com and windsinger@aol.com (AKA Sue Esty)
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     The way the surroundings fizzled into view reminded Sam

of the old, plain Aka Seltzers that his Dad used to drink after

one of his Mom's huge home cooked meals.  Not the stomach-

turning lemon flavored tablets that replaced them, but the

original ones that didn't taste half bad.  He mulled over this

until a bone-numbing chill shocked him out of his reverie and he

realized that it was snowing heavily.  Shaking from the chill, he

looked down at himself to see who he had leaped into this time

and gasped in shock.
 
 

     "Oh, boy!"
 
 

     It came out as "Meoooooow."
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     "Well, at least we have power.  They're predicting more

snow today and tomorrow.  Neither one of us is going

anywhere."  Dana Scully handed Fox Mulder a mug of hot tea,

then wrapped both hands around her own mug.
 
 

     "So much for skiing this weekend.  I'm sorry I dragged you

up here, Scully."
 
 

     "It's not your fault that this storm hit the same week that we

finally took a vacation.  If worse comes to worse, we have

plenty of firewood and supplies.  As for the skiing, I heard that

man at the General Store talking about seeing bright lights in the

sky for the last few weeks.  Fess up, Mulder.  You didn't even

bring your skis, did you?"
 
 

     Silence.
 
 

     "I guess I should be relieved.  We could be on a fishing trip,

trying to catch the elusive brain-sucking amoeba that's been

decimating the fish population in that lake in Oregon."
 
 

     A loud scratching sound interrupted Mulder's reply.

Startled, they both looked around, remembering that Scully's

dog Clyde was staying with her mother.  Cautiously, Mulder

opened the door and looked down at the most pitiful sight he

had seen in a long time.  A small black and white cat was

crouched on the doorstep, shivering violently.  It looked at him

with huge, terrified amber eyes.  He picked up the little creature

and slammed the door shut just before the last of the heat could

escape.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     Sam looked up at the largest door he had ever seen.  The

snow was coming down even harder than it had a few moments

before.  At the rate he was losing body heat, he knew he would

die if he didn't find some place to get warm soon.  His

scratching paid off when the door swung open.  Rationally, he

knew that people would be huge, but he was still unprepared for

the reality.  A tall, dark-haired man reached down and picked

him up.  It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to

scream and fight to make the giant turn him loose.  At least the

hands were warm.  Before long, he was wrapped in a towel,

warming in front of a roaring fire.
 
 

     "How do you suppose a cat ended up out here in the middle

of nowhere?"
 
 

     "He probably lives around here.  Maybe he got lost in the

storm."  Idly, Scully stroked his head.  "He doesn't look sick

particularly, but his fur certainly is odd.  No undercoat at all.

And he's awfully thin.  Must have a rough life."
 
 

     "Admit it, Scully, that's the ugliest cat you ever saw."
 
 

     Sam looked around the room until he spotted a mirror, then

shrugged off the towel and bounded onto the table so he could

look at himself.  His scrawny body was covered in long black

and white hair, but it fell straight, instead of fluffing out like

other cats' coats.  Rosy pink skin shone through in places where

his thin hair was tousled.  Sam stared at his reflection in the

mirror and growled.  Chuckles from the pair behind him did

nothing to lessen his irritation.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     The tall man and the pretty redhead had gone to sleep hours

ago, wrapped around each other on the converted couch in front

of the fire.  Sam had taken refuge in the kitchen beside the

refrigerator where the heat from the condenser came out. The

sound of the motor also helped mask the noises from the living

room. Of all the situations he could have leaped into, he had to

end up sharing a very small cabin with an amorous couple!

Unfortunately, the motor noise also covered the sound of the

imaging chamber door opening. The first he knew Al had

arrived was when he heard his friend's exuberant voice.
 
 

     "Way to go, Sam!"
 
 

     The little cat scurried into the living room.  Sam found his

friend bent over the sleeping couple, leering at the diminutive

woman.
 
 

     "Al!"
 
 

     "Sam?" As neither the man nor the woman stirred, Al looked

around the room trying to figure out where Sam's voice was

coming from.
 
 

     Petulantly, Sam leaped onto the end of the bed. "Where the

hell have you been?  Look at me!  Just look at me!  Can you

believe this?"
 
 

     Mouth open, Al stared at the bristling cat. "Sam?"
 
 

     Without waking up, Mulder kicked his foot under the covers

and Sam landed on his butt.  "Ouch!"
 
 

     "Sam, are you all right?"
 
 

     "Yeah, it only hurt my pride.  I thought felines were always

supposed to land on their feet."
 
 

     Al wildly began punching buttons on the candy colored

handset he was holding. "Sam, you can't leap into a cat!  This

can't happen!"
 
 

     "Well, it has!  What does Ziggy have to say about this?"
 
 

     "She says...you shouldn't be able to leap into a creature

that has substantially less body weight than a human..."  he

hit the handset in frustration.  "Ziggy doesn't have anything yet!

Do you know who these people are?"
 
 

     "His name is Mulder, her name is Dana Scully.  They work

for the FBI.  I think she's a pathologist.  She examined me and

they were joking about how she doesn't usually deal with live

patients," Sam volunteered eagerly.  It felt so good to be able to

talk to someone again!
 
 

     "I'll see what Gooshie can find out about them.

Meanwhile, you just lie low."
 
 

     "Don't leave me here alone, Al!  Al!"  Sam cried out, but

the whoosh of the imaging chamber door drowned out his small

voice.
 
 

     Sam looked around the huge room. Frightened as he was,

he really needed to make a call to nature. Sam guessed he would

have to use the litter box Scully had fixed up for him. At least it

was clean. THIS time.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     Sam had dozed off and on for what seemed like hours.

Hoping that Al would pop back at any moment, he had hidden

himself under an armchair in the living room.  His new,

magnified sense of hearing was becoming a real detriment.  At

every sound, no matter how small, his ears twitched and his eyes

flew open.  How could he change the future when he weighed

less that ten pounds?  When he couldn't communicate with

anyone but Al?  What if he ended up in the local pound, or

worse, at the vet's?  Something moved across the room and Sam

could have swore he saw a field mouse the size of a Rottweiler

run behind the bookcase by the kitchen door.  He slid a little

further under the chair.
 
 

     <At least things can't get much worse than this!> he tried to

console himself.
 
 

     No sooner than the thought crossed his mind, a light burst

through the uncovered window, turning everything inside as

white as the snow-covered terrain.  Mulder tossed the covers

back and leaped to his feet.  Quickly pulling on his boots, he

threw the door open and lurched into the cold.  Sam ran after

him.  The light was even brighter outside, if that was possible.

The last thing either of them noticed was the absolute,

unexpected quiet.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     Sam swam back to consciousness for the second time in so

many days realizing how cold he was.  A woman was shaking

him and talking in hurried, panicked voice.  "Mulder!  Mulder,

Can you can hear me?"
 
 

     He recognized the flame-haired woman, but the perspective

was all wrong.  She looked like a normal person instead of a

giant.  Sam felt his chest and his face in wonder...human,

male..."Thank God!"
 
 

     "Mulder?"  Dana stood up, looking at him

worriedly.  "Are you all right?"
 
 

     "I saw a light."  She pulled him to his feet and held his

hands between hers, rubbing them for warmth.
 
 

     "Let's get inside where it's warm, then we'll talk."  He

leaned on her and they turned toward the cabin.  The black and

white tomcat was lying a few feet away, still as death.  Scully

dropped to her knees and picked him up.
 
 

     "Is he alive?"  Sam felt a jolt of remorse, hoping his leap

wasn't to blame.
 
 

     "Yes.  He's breathing.  We better get both of you inside."
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     Sam stoked the fire while Scully worried over the scrawny

little cat.
 
 

     "Are you going to tell me why you ran out of here without

your coat?  I'd hate to see you spend *our* vacation in a hospital

suffering from pneumonia!"
 
 

     "Didn't you see the light?"
 
 

     "I woke up to find the door standing open and the two of

you unconscious in the snow.  Don't tell me I missed another

UFO sighting."
 
 

     "UFO sighting?"
 
 

     One amber eye opened warily and Scully made the mistake

of leaning in close to look at the little guy.  When her huge face

swam into view, the other eye flew open and a high-pitched

girly scream filled the room.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     "I think we should call him Sylvester.  He reminds me of

that cartoon cat that's always getting beaten up by a kangaroo.

He looks a lot like him, too."  Scully told Sam as she finished

setting the table.
 
 

     "Uh, yeah, Sylvester, it is."  Sam replied, stoking the fire.

When he turned around, Al had popped back into the cabin and

was looking around on the floor.
 
 

     "Sam, don't listen to them!  You're not anything like that

cartoon cat," Al called out.  Quietly, he added, "Don't they know

animals have feelings too?"
 
 

     "Uhmmm, Al!"
 
 

     Dana glanced at Sam.  "What did you say?"
 
 

     "Nothing.  I was clearing my throat."  When she turned

away, he waved at the hologram to get his attention.
 
 

     "Sam?  Kitty, Kitty?"  No one answered him and finally he

realized that the other man could see him.
 
 

     "I'm going to turn on the news.  See what's happening

everywhere else while we're cooped up here."  Turning the

volume up loud enough to drown out any conversation, he

ducked into the bathroom and motioned for Al to follow.
 
 

     "Sam?"
 
 

     "Yes, it's me. Al."  Quietly, he closed the door.
 
 

     "You leaped again?  Into the same situation?  This is

weird!"  The virtual cigar was dancing over the keys on the

handset while he talked.
 
 

     "I leaped early this morning.  Didn't you see Mulder in the

imaging chamber?"
 
 

     "No!  Nothing has changed!  That's why I didn't know you

had leaped."
 
 

     "There was a bright light, Scully says maybe it was from a

UFO, I'm not sure.  What if that has something to do with all this

weirdness?"
 
 

     "A UFO?  Really, Sam, you're starting to sound like this

Mulder guy.  He believes in all that stuff.  Speaking of which,

where do you think he is?"
 
 

     Sam's borrowed hazel eyes widened with realization.  "I

think he's hiding under a chair in the living room!"
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     "-so you see, we don't have control over any of this.  My

friend Sam,"  The cigar smoking man motioned toward Mulder's

stolen body, "is a really good guy.  He's helped lots of  people.

Could you let me know if you can see me?  A small gesture, a

meow, anything?"
 
 

     Mulder looked at the garishly dressed man on his hands

and knees who was looking under the armchair, trying to make

eye contact.  He peeled his lip back and growled.
 
 

     "Uh, thanks.  Just bear with us and everything will be fine."

Al made an awkward petting motion, but his hand went right

through Mulder's tiny head.  The cat's eyes grew even bigger.
 
 

     Sam watched the exchange, frustrated that he couldn't talk

to either of them without alerting Dana.
 
 

     Dana came out of the kitchen carrying a pot of coffee.

"Breakfast is ready.  I hope you're hungry."
 
 

     "It smells wonderful."  He looked at the table she had laid

out.  "You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble."
 
 

     "If the power goes out, we may get tired of cereal.  Besides,

I wanted to cook a nice meal for us to celebrate our first

vacation together."  She smiled and slipped her arms around his

waist.  "Hopefully, the first of many."
 
 

     He wasn't sure what to say, so he smiled and said nothing.
 
 

     "I have a confession to make.  I realized that you didn't

pack your skis before we left Washington."  With one arm still

around his waist, she toyed with the buttons on his shirt.  "I'm

not angry with you, though.  After sneaking around to see each

other for so long, I think it's really sweet that you arranged this

romantic getaway.  You knew we wouldn't have time to ski."
 
 

     Sam froze.  The real Mulder crawled out from under the

chair and glared at him, growling menacingly.
 
 

****************************************************

end part 1
 
 
 
 

===========================================================================
 
 

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Subject: NEW: Mulder's Leap/silly QL xover 2/9 by K. & Windsinger

Date: 7 Apr 1996 23:36:03 -0400
 
 
 
 

Mulder's Leap 2/9

by K. (1013@hehe.com) and Windsinger@aol.com (AKA Sue Esty)

2/23/96
 
 

See part 1 for notes and disclaimer.
 
 

**************************************************
 
 

   The hologram stepped between the little cat and the

couple standing by the table.  "Uh, Sam, I don't think 'our

friend' is gonna stand for this."
 
 

   Eight pounds of jealous feline jumped through Al and

wrapped its body around Sam's leg, sinking sharp canine

teeth into his ankle.
 
 

   "Ouch!"  Sam peeled Mulder off of his ankle and held

him away from his body like an angry ferret.  "Calm down!

I'm not after your woman!"
 
 

   "What?"  Scully's eyebrows shot up.
 
 

   "Uh, I've read about cats who become attached to one

person in a household and, hum, become very protective of

that person."
 
 

   "Quick thinking, Sam!"  Al called out.
 
 

   Dana laughed, but took the cat.  She cuddled him and

scratched his head until his growls turned into loud purrs.

"You may have some competition for my affections from

this little guy!"
 
 

**************************************************
 
 

   Sam dried the last glass and put it back on the shelf.

"Breakfast was great.  I've probably told you this before, but

you're a fantastic cook."
 
 

   Scully eyed Sam suspiciously. "This vacation is getting

to you, Mulder.  I usually have to beg you to help with the

dishes, and you never comment on my cooking."
 
 

   Sam coughed nervously and went back to studying the

dish he was drying.
 
 

   "So, what's on the agenda for this morning?" the lovely

woman asked suggestively, sliding awfully close to Sam as

she spoke. He had slid out of bed before she woke up, and

Dana felt they had some unfinished business to attend to.
 
 

   Sam glanced around quickly, looking for the cat, and

stepped away from her.  "I'm in the middle of this really

great book.  I thought I'd read for awhile."
 
 

   Hoping that he had indeed seen a book by the couch, he

forgot about Mulder for just a second.  As he walked

through the doorway, a sharp, hissing pile of fur flew off the

top of the bookcase and clawed his head before it caught

hold of his shirt and hung on for dear life.  Yelling in

surprise and pain, Sam fought to get away from the little

terrorist.  Dana plucked the cat off of him and tried not to

laugh.
 
 

   There was a book on the floor, <thanks goodness!> so

Sam grabbed it and flipped to the middle.  He plopped

himself into the armchair he had slept under when he was a

cat.
 
 

   Scully tilted the book so she could read the title.  "'I

was an Alien War Bride.' Great choice of reading material.

You know, we *are* on vacation.  Don't you get enough of

that during the other fifty weeks of the year?"
 
 

   "You can never read too many books about... ," he

looked at the cover, not able to believe Scully had read it

correctly, "...alien war brides."
 
 

   With a snort, she put Sylvester down and pulled Sam

over to the couch.  "I know I can't compete with your

Book-of-the-Month selection, but at least we can cuddle."
 
 

   The cat disappeared behind the couch and Sam put his

feet up on the coffee table to protect his vulnerable ankles.

Scully dug out a magazine and propped up against him.
 
 

   Sam had barely gotten through two paragraphs before

Mulder leaped onto the back of the couch and stretched out,

close enough to inflict some damage on his rival if he felt

like it.  <It's going to be a looong morning,> Sam thought to

himself.
 
 

**************************************************
 
 

   Scully was only pretending to read her magazine.

What she was really doing was trying to distract Sam from

his book.  She kept squirming and when her hands would

wander or when she would shift into a suggestive position,

Sam would receive a warning growl and a painful swipe

from Mulder's paw.  His arm was sore from the cat's abuse

and one of his feet had been asleep for a long time.

Obviously, reading had been a bad idea.
 
 

   "How about some hot chocolate?"  Sam asked

suddenly.  He tried to disentangle himself to stand up.
 
 

   "No, you stay put, I'll fix it."
 
 

   Sam stood up anyway when she went to the kitchen.

He groaned as the blood rushed back into his foot.  He was

so on edge that when Dana brushed her fingers against his as

she handed him his cup, he jumped, spilling hot chocolate

on the couch and on her.
 
 

   "Gosh, I'm sorry!"  They both wiped at the stain on her

sweater, but that only smeared it.
 
 

   "It's O.K., I'll get myself cleaned up and I'll be right

back."
 
 

   This could be the break he'd been looking for.  "You

know, if the storm causes the power to go out, we won't

have hot water.  Why don't you go ahead and take a long,

hot bath?"
 
 

   "It's not even noon yet.  How decadent!  You want to

join me?"
 
 

   He rubbed his arm.  "You go ahead.  I'll try and get this

chocolate stain out of the couch.  We don't want to lose our

deposit."
 
 

**************************************************
 
 

   Mulder leaped onto the vanity where he could watch

Scully while she bathed.  As much as he usually enjoyed

this, he couldn't help but shudder when she immersed

herself in the steamy water.  Without thinking about it, he

suddenly realized he was licking his coat and that he found

the activity not disgusting at all, but very soothing.  Before

he knew it, he was bent into a ridiculous position, washing

places he could never have dreamed of reaching before.
 
 

   His bath was interrupted by a noise from the living

room.  Perking his ears and listening carefully, he could hear

two voices.  Mulder padded silently into the room in time to

see the strange man who had been there earlier walk through

the wall.
 
 

   "Dana, I'm going to bring in some firewood!"  Sam

called out as he buttoned his coat.  Unnoticed, the cat

slipped out when the door opened.
 
 

**************************************************
 
 

   The door slammed shut before Mulder realized he had

made a really big mistake.  It had stopped snowing, but it

was still bitterly cold.  Soon he was shivering, trying

desperately to warm himself.
 
 

   He leaped from snow drift to snow drift but light as he

was the snow was lighter and he kept ending up over his

head after each leap.  Soon he was drenched all the way to

his pale pink skin.
 
 

   The man wearing Mulder's body was standing over by

the woodpile talking to his friend with the cigar, but to a

little cat whose continued existence was seriously in doubt,

eavesdropping had lost its appeal.  He shivered again.  What

was he going to do? Condescending to go over and beg the

man who had stolen his body to hold and warm and protect

him was totally unacceptable.  Mulder would die first.
 
 

   Glancing back over his shoulder at the huge cabin, as

impenetrable as a fortress, Mulder was afraid that might

very well happen.  He could freeze before Scully finished

her bath and realized that he was outside!
 
 

   Maybe he was meant to die out here. If so, that thief

would have his body and his lovely Dana, and he would be

nothing but a stiff little corpse for the crows to eat in the

spring.
 
 

**************************************************
 
 

   Sam scuffed his boot in the snow. "Al something

confuses me. Why were you so surprised when you found

me in a cat body last night? What do you have in the

imaging chamber, anyway?  What you should have is one

really confused cat, panicked out of its skull, wearing my

body."
 
 

   "That's the point," Al said, "we don't. That's why I

thought you had originally leaped into this Mulder guy.

What we've got is your typical POW syndrome. You - he

-just sits, won't eat, won't drink, won't talk.  A lot of males

do that, so we didn't think it was unusual until we found out

who you were supposed to leap into and probed into his

background.  Fox Mulder is not the type to submit meekly to

that kind of treatment."
 
 

   "What type is he? Who is this guy? Why was I

supposed to leap into him in the first place and why didn't

I?"
 
 

   "My, we are full of questions this morning aren't we?

Ziggy has been trying to access information on Mulder and

Scully since we found you.  Everything is classified!  The

NSA is demanding to know why we're interested in them

and it was 'suggested' that we should back off!"
 
 

   "Why?"  Sam blew on his gloved hands, trying to stay

warm.
 
 

   "I don't know.  Whatever they're messed up with is big.

Really big."
 
 

   "But why am *I* here?  What's going on?"
 
 

   "The only information we've got is that Mulder

disappears tomorrow night, never to be seen again."
 
 

   "What happens to him?"
 
 

   "Nobody knows, or if they do, they're not telling us."
 
 

**************************************************
 
 

   An old storage shed nestled just inside the tree line was

the only shelter Mulder could find.  As he got closer, his hair

tried to stand on end.  There was something in the shed.  He

wasn't sure how he knew that, but he was certain of it.
 
 

   Vicious, high-pitched growls and hisses greeted him as

he slunk through the hole beside the locked door.  A

long-haired brindle cat was flattened against the floor,

looking at him with murder in her eyes.  Try as he might,

Mulder couldn't stop staring into her eyes.  He sniffed

involuntarily and another chill ran through him.  It didn't

smell like his favorite perfume, but it had the same effect.
 
 

   Hisses and growls came forth of their own accord and

punctuated hers perfectly.  They circled each other like

mortal enemies, but there was lust in their hearts.  She

tackled him and they wrestled wildly then flew apart,

crouched low to the ground and barred their teeth at each

other.
 
 

   "What about Dana?" a tiny voice reminded him.  How

could he do this?  Did their relationship mean nothing?  Was

he doomed to succumb to every bitch in heat that crossed

his path?  She stuck her butt in his face and he sniffed the

heady aroma of her femaleness.
 
 

   Why couldn't people be uncomplicated like this?  They

could have wild, uninhibited sex and he wouldn't feel

obligated to call her in the morning.  She wouldn't leave any

embarrassing messages on his answering machine or show

up at inopportune times.  She wouldn't be there tomorrow to

love him and take care of him, either, the voice nagged.  But

Dana would never know, he argued back.  And if she did

find out, she would forgive him.  My God, if these weren't

extenuating circumstances, what *would* qualify?
 
 

   Mulder's burst of reasoning faded away.  Instinctually,

he grabbed the female's neck with his teeth to hold her

immobile and climbed on top of her.  Another brindle cat

torpedoed him from the side and suddenly he was tumbling

wildly, being scratched and bitten by his new rival.
 
 

   A terrified black and white streak misjudged the

distance and slammed into the cabin door.  Dana opened the

door and let him in.
 
 

   "Poor baby!  What were you doing outside?"  Wearing

a terry cloth robe with her hair wrapped a towel, she was a

goddess.  There was a lump in his throat and a tear in his eye

when he thought about how close he had come to cheating

on her.  He rubbed his head on her robe until she scratched

behind his ears.
 
 

   Sam finished stacking the snow-covered logs next to

the fireplace and peeked over her shoulder, careful to stay

out of reach of  Mulder's claws.  "Looks like he tied up with

another cat."
 
 

   "Yeah, he is missing some hair."
 
 

   Something tickled his chest and Mulder scratched

furiously.
 
 

   "Looks like he picked up some fleas, too."
 
 

   "Well, we don't have any flea shampoo, but a friend of

mine makes her own.  One drop of bleach to three drops of

dish washing detergent, heavily diluted with water."
 
 

   Sam made a face.  "That sounds horrible!"
 
 

   "It smells pretty bad, but it'll make his coat shine!  We

need to brush him first.  Can I use your comb?"
 
 

   Sam nodded reluctantly.  He felt sorry for Mulder's

predicament, despite the deep scratches on this arm and

teeth marks on his ankle, but this might occupy her for a

while.
 
 

   Scully had her face down next to the cat's making little

loving sounds.  As she drifted toward the bathroom, Sam

called over his shoulder, "I think I'll take a walk!" and

vanished out the door before she could reply.  *A nice

LONG walk,* Sam muttered under his breath.
 
 

   By the time Mulder suffered through her ministrations

and the flea bath, he didn't even remember his close call

with the brindle cat.
 
 

**************************************************

end part 2
 
 
 
 

===========================================================================
 
 

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Subject: NEW: Mulder's Leap/silly QL xover 3/9 by Windsinger & K.

Date: 7 Apr 1996 23:39:08 -0400
 
 
 
 

Mulder's Leap 3/9

by K. (1013@hehe.com) and Windsinger@aol.com (AKA Sue Esty)

2/26/96
 
 

See part 1 for disclaimer.
 
 

********************************************************
 
 

      Sam needed something to eat. Warily, he stuck his head in the

back door. He was watching for the claws - Scully's or Mulder's he

wasn't sure. Hopefully, he could grab something to go and be out of

there before Scully found out her wandering boy had come back.

Trudging aimlessly around in the snow, talking to himself and

sometimes Al, trying to figure out how he should go about doing

whatever he should be doing, and how to restore Mulder, and how the

cat figured in all this, required a lot of energy and he'd taken

off before lunch.
 
 

     The walk and soul searching had only helped to convince Sam

that this was one of the most dangerous assignments he had ever

been given. Dana was intelligent, attentive, amorous and expectant

and she had a super economy size box of condoms in the drawer

beside the couch. If Sam rejected her, that could have lasting

effects on their relationship. On the other hand, if he didn't,

that might have a lasting effect upon his life if Mulder had

anything to say about it.
 
 

     As he eased himself into the kitchen, Sam blessed his current

tall, lanky form. He had to admit, Mulder's body was a really nice

one. It was good to be in a body so much like his own for once and

the man kept it in good condition. Nice and lean. Of course, Sam

recognized, temperament had a decisive affect upon weight control,

and Mulder perhaps had a touch of hyperthyroid. The restlessness

certainly helped to keep the weight down.
 
 

     Mulder's stomach growled. Better hurry and feed the vessel,

Sam decided. He was beginning to feel a little light headed.

Hyperthyroid *and* hypoglycemic. This guy's moods swings must be

something to watch.
 
 

     Sam began hunting in the refrigerator. Salad stuff...

yogurt.... those must be Scully's.  Scully... Here he was calling

her Scully just as Mulder did. He wondered how the lovely woman in

question felt about being called by her last name all the time.
 
 

     Back to hunting and gathering.... Maybe there was peanut

butter in the cupboard. Nothing. There was a small pantry and it

was stocked, though a lot of the cans and bottles where dusty.

Well, the cabin was a rental. Former renters probably left the odd

can or two or ten behind. Sam resumed his hunt for PB and J and

found something even better. Spam.
 
 

     Before he could wrestle the key off the bottom of the ancient

can, a voice floated in from the living room.
 
 

     "Mulder, is that you?"
 
 

     Sam cringed, but knew his presence had been detected. Must

have been the rumbling of Mulder's stomach. "No, it's a rapist!"
 
 

     "Oh, I thought it was the guy I drove up here with." <Ooh,

that

was a cut on how inaccessible he'd been.> Music started in the

living room. An old, old song started playing on a cassette

recorder Scully had brought. "Afternoon Delight."
 
 

     The sharp can lid slipped just as Sam recognized the tune,

giving Mulder's index finger a fine little cut, the kind that hurt

like the devil. A glance at the wall clock told him it was two

o'clock.
 
 

     Yep, afternoon.
 
 

     If Mulder was anywhere around, Sam knew he'd be dead meat

unless he got out fast. There was no doubt in his mind that if he

laid a finger on Scully, Mulder would kill him. How an eight pound

cat can kill a one hundred sixty odd pound man, Sam didn't know but

he had read those golden eyes with their green flashes and he knew

murder when he saw it.
 
 

     Speaking of dead meat, thirty seconds later Sam had folded a

thick slice of Spam and mustard between two pieces of bread and had

opened his mouth when.....
 
 

     "Meoooooooow!!!!"
 
 

     Startled, Sam nearly dropped the precious sandwich. He did

have to make a lunge for the mustard jar to keep it from crashing

to the floor after knocking it with his elbow.
 
 

     Sylvester - eh, Mulder - had pushed open the kitchen door and

was sitting on the floor right in front of Sam, his eyes

proclaiming that in his estimation Sam was indeed - dead meat.
 
 

     "What's up?" Sam whispered. Then he noticed that Scully's home

made flea dip had definitely improved the cat's appearance. "Hey,

I like the blow job, who's your stylist?"
 
 

     Mulder meowed again, a shrill, unpleasant sound. Insulted and

definitely demanding.
 
 

     "Look I'm keeping away from her, okay. I've frozen my nuts for

the past two hours because of you, so get off my case."
 
 

     That meow again and this time a small pink tongue emerged from

behind the sharp, white teeth.
 
 

     "Oh, Zippy's transistors, you're hungry! Why didn't you say

so." Mulder gave Sam a look that would melt glass. "Okay, I guess

you tried."
 
 

     Sam went hunting and gathering in the pantry again coming up

with a can of tuna. He whipped off the lid of the can, plopped it

into a bowl and, with a flourish, set it down on the floor in front

of the offended cat. "There, how's that."
 
 

     In his own good time, Mulder rose and sauntered over to sniff

at the contents. His response was to sit down again and lift his

nose disdainfully.
 
 

     "This is what you guys fed me! In fact, this is better. I got

the cheap stuff, this is the expensive brand - solid white packed

in water." Mulder did not look impressed. Sam got down on Mulder's

hands and knees and stared into the kitty face from a distance of

about three inches. "Look, Fuzz, just be glad she hasn't been able

to get to the store or you'd be eating Friskies Seafood Combo and

you have no idea where *that's* been."
 
 

     In response, Mulder turned his butt to Sam's face, flipping

his tail under Sam's nose and suddenly was gone. Getting to his

feet, Sam found the cat had leaped onto the counter and was nosing

the forgotten Spam sandwich.
 
 

     "Hey, that's mine!" but when Sam made a grab for it, the

bright, sharp teeth dug in deeper, the stomach pressed low and

challenging to the ground, and a growl issued from deep in that

thin little kitty chest.
 
 

     Sam sighed, found a roll of foil, stashed the tuna in the

fridge and tossed his sandwich down on a plate on the floor, bread

and mustard and all. "Hate to tell you this, Mulder, but that's

probably got as much mystery meat in it as the Seafood Combo. At

least we have one thing in common. Neither of us have any taste

whatsoever."
 
 

     Mulder's tail flicked almost happily as he jumped down from

the counter and approached the plate. Without further ado, he dove

in.
 
 

************************************************************
 
 

     After lunch Mulder practiced gravity defying maneuvers as a

human he could only dream about. Being trapped in a cat's body had

some advantages. But even twisting and flipping in midair and

leaping tall pieces of furniture in a single bound got boring. For

a while Scully petted him, but she didn't for as long as he would

have liked. She was not in a good mood, in fact she was furious

that her Mulder had made a second Spam sandwich and ducked out the

back door when she had made plans for the long, snowy afternoon

which required both of them.
 
 

     Mulder tried to be philosophic about Scully's mood.  He had

wanted the thief who had stolen his body to stay away from his

female and, quite surprisingly, the man had obliged. It meant,

however, that Mulder no longer had a target for his attacks.
 
 

     That was where he was now, lying on the top of the highest

bookcase in the room, chin on his paws, tail twitching, ears perked

forward waiting in eager delight for that impostor to come back and

then Mulder would pounce, claws extended. A glorious pounce. The

last one had been good, this one would be better!
 
 

     Long minutes had gone by, however, and the man in his body had

still not returned and so Mulder was bored. Waiting lacked

challenge. Mulder's brain began to turn over. Only it was not

responding in its normal smooth fashion. Why were his thoughts so

muddy? No, not, muddy, just not particularly analytical. They were

more elemental, basic. <Admit it, Mulder, bestial.> Otherwise, why

had he gloried so completely in all those physical feats of daring-

do? And this pouncing for the sheer joy of it had seemed like such

a perfect idea at the time.
 
 

     Thinking was getting to be as tedious as waiting. Time to do

a little investigating. After all, investigating was what he was

paid to do. Mulder only hoped he would be paid to do that again and

sometime real soon.
 
 

     The universe of the cabin suddenly provided endless

possibilities for diversion.  Being so small made little, mundane

things suddenly not so little or commonplace, and, having a nose

that could smell its way to China, gave the big wide world a whole

new dimension. Mulder also found that he could squeeze into just

about anywhere his head would fit. Images of liver-eating mutants

came to mind. Especially the liver-eating part.
 
 

     Scully's drawers in the bureau was his first target. The

woman, however, was just too damn neat and had closed the drawers

tight. It would have been nice to get up close and personal with

her unmentionables. His own drawers, however, were open plenty wide

enough to admit one scrawny cat body. Nothing very interesting,

however, certainly nothing Mulder didn't remember though their

proportions where alarming. A roll of his socks was as large as his

head, the gun as long as his body. The gun was not the source of

interest Mulder had expected. It was hard and cold and tasted bad.

The holster, however, was a different matter. The leather smelled

delightfully of foreign places, animals, sex. Mulder had found

himself rubbing his chin against it, marking his spot. He stopped.

Sex? Must be the mink oil.
 
 

     More drawers, not much interest until Mulder found the bottom

drawer of the hall bureau open just enough to get a paw in. And

something in there smelled wonderful. As if fishing, the paw went

in, claws extended trying to snag whatever this amazing thing was.

The smell was like sex, but not sexy, like food but not eatable,

like sunshine but not warm. It was driving him nuts. He was

laboring so intently that he did not even notice when Scully walked

by.
 
 

     "What are you doing there?" she asked, a smile in her voice.

Mulder found himself shamelessly looking up into her face with

pleading eyes. Scully took pity and opened the drawer. In a wink

the cat hopped in, and in two had latched onto the object of his

desire. Scully, however, took it away which made the cat meow

loudly in protest. Scully opened the plastic bag to find a bright

yellow, cloth ball, about half the size of the cat's head.
 
 

     "Someone must have left this here. Looks like a pet toy. You

want it?" Before she could finish speaking Mulder was up on the

bureau, standing on his hind legs trying to snatch the object for

her fingers. "I guess you do, sport. Okay, here goes." And she

tossed it to the far corner of the room. Mulder gathered himself,

executed a mighty leap and tore up the carpet to reach it.
 
 

     It was his, all his. It was wonderful, it was enchanting, it

was invigorating. Mulder batted it with his paw, loving the way it

moved away but then felt a moment of panic that it would be gone.

He pounced on it, to roll around on the floor with it. Hid it under

the couch to find it again a second later by its incredible smell.

He lay on his back and played with it, tossing it up and down,

keeping it in position with all four feet and four sets of claws.

He felt light. Defy gravity? Kitten snuff to how Mulder felt now,

which was as if he were flying. There was no ground, no ceiling, no

sky, no earth, just a yellow ball, the center of his universe. His

whole world.
 
 

**************************************************************
 
 

     When Dana walked in from a walk in the snow - off looking for

Mulder - she found the living room in a shambles. The lamp was

knocked over and the drapes had tears, as did the tops of all the

chairs and the couch.
 
 

     "Sylvester!"
 
 

     Mulder slunk onto his stomach. The tone of that beloved voice

did not sound very loving. A hand came down, pulled at the soft

yellow ball which the cat had firmly in its mouth, but Mulder

locked

his jaws. He was not about to let this go. Not even for the

goddess. Another growl. Mulder was getting good at that.
 
 

     "I think I know what that is now. I don't know if you should

have it for so long." Scully sighed. The damage to the cabin was

done. There went their deposit. "Oh, I guess you're on vacation,

too.  Look, you play quietly or I take it away, you hear?"
 
 

     Mulder stretched out in front of the fire. He licked the

pretty ball, the prettiest ball he had ever seen in all his life,

the most beautiful object he had ever wrapped his legs around. He

bit it, tearing a little of the fabric, bringing the wonderful

substance which was inside outside and into his sensitive nostrils,

into his lungs. Into his head. The room was slowly spinning. Quiet?

Sylvester would be quiet. Very quiet. Just lying here staring into

the fire, smelling his lovely, lovely ball, the flames capturing

his attention, leaping, dancing, red and gold and yellow... yellow

and red and gold... over and over and over.... but yellow, the

prettiest of all.
 
 

*************************************************************
 
 

     Shivering in every limb, Sam finally returned for dinner. He

moved warily. He even stared up at the top of the tall bookcase

before walking under it. No mountain lion. No streak of black and

white flew out from under the chair, claws extended, to greet him

either. Where was the little monster?
 
 

     Sam found him. The cat was sprawled out in front of the fire,

legs stretched out like a dog's, its head pillowed on a scrap of

yellow fabric. The golden eyes were open and mesmerized by the

flames. As Sam took what was left of the ball, the little chin fell

down bonelessly onto the floor without a flicker of protest. Sam

shook his head sadly. From the front porch he threw the remains of

the catnip as far out into the woods as he could.
 
 

     Worse and worse, Sam thought as he stamped the snow from his

shoes. Mulder's psyche seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into

the cat's. Something Sam had not had a problem with, but then Sam

had not been a cat for as long and maybe his experience with

leaping gave him some protection. Mulder had been thrown in

completely unprepared.
 
 

     Scully had suddenly materialized before Sam. She was dressed

casually, but her flannel shirt was unbuttoned down to her navel

and underneath she wore a tight cotton eyelet-trimmed camisole.

Worst of all she was smiling everywhere. With her mouth, her eyes,

her hands, her whole body.
 
 

     And Sam's protection was lying on the floor, staring into the

dancing flames, utterly and completely stoned.
 
 

*************************************************************
 
 

     After dinner Sam wheedled Scully into a game of Scrabble. At

least she and Mulder had something in common besides sex. As it

turned out, she was totally amazing at it. She knew as many body

parts in Latin as he did and far more words in French for the

progenerative act. Being both intelligent, competitive players,

they soon found seven letters restrictive and mutually changed the

rules. When they ran out of letters, they made more until they were

soon spending more time cutting out little squares and inscribing

the alphabet on them than thinking up words. When they ran out of

room on playing surface, they cut up and ruled off blocks of paper

from grocery sacks and taped them onto the edges of the board.
 
 

     Sam was beginning to hope that he had a chance of keeping her

at this all night, when Mulder woke up. Sort of. At that point a

nimble leap was called for but all the shaky animal could manage

was a wobbly climb up Sam's back, claws extended for purchase on

Sam's shirt and skin, and an ungraceful dive from Sam's shoulder to

collapse into the center of the gaming area, scattering paper and

wooden letters everywhere.
 
 

     End of game.
 
 

     With a toss of her head Scully flipped back a fan of flame red

hair and laughed. The interruption was fine with her. She was ready

for bed anyway... emphasis on the *bed* part.
 
 

     They were just finishing cleaning up the mess and Sam was

wondering what his next distraction technique was going to be when

a scratching sound, much louder than the day before, came from the

direction of the front door. Sam and Dana both looked towards the

door but saw no black and white cat as they expected. Then they

looked towards the fireplace. Mulder/Sylvester sat perched on a

stack of wood doing his best to appear menacing and territorial for

Sam's benefit. By the twitching of his ears he had heard the sound

as well.
 
 

     A question in her eyes, Scully went to the door. Opening it,

she was met by a blast of cold air and - another cat. This one was

grey, not fat, but large and healthy looking, with elegant dark

striping. And clearly female. Like a queen condescending herself to

accept the adoration of her subjects, she proceeded to stroll into

the room. Dana stood back, hand on her hip, mouth open, staring as

she watched the stately entrance.
 
 

     "My apologies for not playing 'Pomp and Circumstance'," Dana

said in wide-eyed amazement, "but then maybe you would have

preferred the 'Masterpiece Theater' theme." Dana soundly shut the

door against the wintery mix threatening to suck all the warm air

out of the little cabin.
 
 

     Without a glance towards any of them, her majesty deposited

herself in the middle of the small room's carpet and proceeded to

lick the considerable snow off of her exquisitely thick fur. She

had grace, she had style, she was as proud as a peacock and an

arrogant as a lord, she smelled like a brothel and she made

Mulder's little, still-partially stoned animal heart sing - that

and a few other parts of him.
 
 

     Sam closed his mouth and looked from the female to Mulder's

rapidly flicking tail and curled lip and didn't need a map to know

trouble was on the way. What should he do? What would Mulder want

him to do?
 
 

     Too late. Sylvester was on the move, making his move, circling

the female, nose down low, inhaling long, luscious breaths of kitty

sex. He had hesitated in the tool shed. Not this time.
 
 

     "Scully..." Sam began warningly.
 
 

     Dana was watching, eyes aglow, wrapped in observing the

miracle of chemical attraction and wishing she could bottle it.

"What?" she asked, distractedly.
 
 

     "I don't think this is such a good idea."
 
 

     "Mulder, after what you watch for fun, I'd never have taken

you for a prude."
 
 

     It took exactly two seconds for Sam to figure out what Mulder

watched for fun. The night was going to be harder than he thought.

"Ah, well, that's fantasy. This is reality. And the reality is Her

Majesty there outweighs poor Sylvester two to one."
 
 

     Dana's eyes glistened. "Who's to say she doesn't want it."
 
 

     Sam felt his insides begin to heat up. <Bad Sam, bad Sam...>
 
 

     Sylvester had been circling, sniffing her aroma, making little

growling noises, announcing his intentions. The grey madonna had

not done so much as acknowledge his existence.
 
 

     The poor black and white bag of skin, bone and hair never even

got to first base. Mouth open, teeth exposed for the grip on the

back of her neck, Sylvester reached out to embrace his love between

all four legs - and with one nasty hiss and disdainful shrug of her

sizable shoulders, the female sent her black and white admirer

flying through the air to land with a wail of surprise and pain and

frustration almost in the fire.
 
 

     Sam took three quick strides to retrieve the rejected

creature, brushing the cinders off the clorox-scented coat as he

cradled the stunned little body in his arms.
 
 

     Dana had a smirk on her lips that mirrored the expression on

the grey female's pert face. "That's why they call it survival of

the fittest."
 
 

     Sam shook his head over the trembling little body. "Dana, I

think we're going to have to separate these two."
 
 

     "Oh, come on Mulder. Coming to the defense of your sex? He'll

learn. And, then, maybe she's just playing hard to get."
 
 

     "Scully... It's dangerous. He was pretty ill last night. He

might get hurt."
 
 

     Dana sighed, more than a little disappointed. "You're probably

right. I guess we'd better put Her Majesty in the kitchen if we

want to get any - " her eyes danced "- sleep."
 
 

     As Scully took the conquering female into the kitchen to get

her some food, Sam unfolded the bed, still wondering how he was

going to get out of his own ordeal. Once again he had no ally.

Mulder was sprawled out in front of the fire, a dejected lump of

sorrow.
 
 

     "Don't fret, Fuzz," Sam muttered to him sitting down on the

floor next to the grieving animal. "Someday you're going to be

really happy you don't have relatives in the animal kingdom. I

mean, look at that coat. Do you really think it's right to pass

along those kinds of genes?"
 
 

************************************************************
 
 

     Sam let Scully have the bathroom first to give him time to

think. Any plan he might have made, however, went right out of his

head when she emerged from the bath. The red of her crimson satin

camisole and high cut briefs reflected the fire and made her hair

glow like flame.
 
 

     Knowing he was working against a force of nature mightier than

he was, Sam grabbed up a fist full of magazines and headed for the

bathroom, muttering almost unintelligently, "Ah, I may be a few

minutes. Travel doesn't agree with me, I guess."
 
 

*************************************************************
 
 

     An hour passed. The bathroom was small and there was nowhere

for Sam to sit but on the toilet which didn't have a lid and he was

sore. And in trouble if the sounds from the living room he had been

hearing for the past forty-five minutes was any indication. First

she had stood at the door and offered creative suggestions, then

she tried tantalizing alternatives, finally she shouted rude,

disgusting insults at his physical condition and his manhood.
 
 

     After that, quiet reigned. When a half hour had passed without

a sound, Sam uncoiled his cramped limbs, moved his numb butt and

with trepidation opened the door.
 
 

     No crockery, bullets or spoken abuse was flung his way. Dana

was in bed, asleep on the very furthest edge on her side of the bed

she could lie on and not fall off. From the view of one arm which

lay outside the covers she had changed to long-sleeved thermal

underwear.
 
 

     Wearing his sweats and a t-shirt, Sam tiptoed to the bed,

crawled in, and, like Dana, balanced himself on the very edge on

*his* side of the bed and willed himself to go to sleep. It had

been a very long day and was threatening to be a longer tomorrow.
 
 

     A little sound made him raise his head. A black and white head

poked itself up over the edge of the bed, finally clawed itself up

to the surface of the mattress. Mulder seemed to have recovered

from the rebuff of his new lady love and had returned to defend his

old one. Contentedly, the cat circled around in the middle of the

ocean of space between the two human bodies, plopped himself down

and purred.
 
 

***************************************************************

end of part 3
 
 
 
 

===========================================================================
 
 

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Subject: NEW: Mulder's Leap/silly QL xover 4/9 by Windsinger & K.

Date: 7 Apr 1996 23:44:13 -0400
 
 
 
 

Mulder Takes a Leap 4/9

by K. (1013@hehe.com) and Windsinger@aol.com (AKA Sue Esty)

2/23/96
 
 

Warning: Everyone acquainted with Calvin Ball? It's a lot like

Fizbin. The laws of logic, physics, chance and reality are being

treated similarly in this story.
 
 

See part 1 for notes and disclaimer.
 
 

****************************************
 
 

     Sam woke to the feel of warm hair against his cheek and a

sharp pain in his ear. Mulder's furry body was draped across his

face and he had Sam's ear lobe trapped between two of his sharp

little feline canines.
 
 

     "Oh, get off it, Fuzz!" Sam grumbled sleepily. "I'm sure

pierced ears don't fit in with the FBI dress code. Haven't I done

enough for you already?"
 
 

     The pressure on Sam's ear increased and the cat began to pull.

Sam grabbed the little body up and held it aloft, spitting and

twisting. When Sam's sleepy mind finally figured out that the

unhappy animal was trying to look towards the door, he dropped it

onto the floor in an instant.
 
 

     "You want to go OUT? In this weather?" Sam's voice dropped to

an even softer whisper. "In case you haven't noticed, Mulder,

you're not a dog."
 
 

     Mulder meowed piteously and, swearing under his breath so not

to wake Scully, Sam put his bare feet onto the chilly floor and

reached under the bed looking for his shoes. Bending down, he spied

the cardboard box full of the closest stuff to sand Scully could

find. Remembering his own humiliating experience with the litter

box, Sam apologized to the miserable animal and willed his sleepy

body to move a little faster.
 
 

     As zipped up his coat, Sam muttered. "You know some cats learn

to use the toilet."
 
 

     If looks could kill, Sam would be toast.
 
 

     The night was clear and cold. At least the wind had died down

and the snow had stopped. Sam flapped his arms, wrapped them over

his chest and sat down on the top step to wait. Mulder bounded into

the relatively minimal amount of snow in the lee of the steps,

which was protected from the wind and the drifts, and was back in

three shakes, taking a flying leap into Sam's lap and burrowing

into the zippered opening of Sam's coat.
 
 

     Sam smiled and settled himself more comfortably on the step.

He was surprised by the attention. He thought Mulder hated him, he

certainly would in Mulder's place. In reality Sam actually liked

cats, even ugly ones like Sylvester. To gain their love was a real

accomplishment. He scratched under the little chin and enjoyed the

feel of the animal's purr against his skin.
 
 

     A guilty feeling flowed over Sam. The more Mulder behaved like

the cat, the further he was getting from being Mulder and Sam

wasn't helping. They had problems, big problems.
 
 

     But that was for the morning. In the meantime, it was a

beautiful night and now that he was out here Sam wanted to enjoy it

for a few minutes. Only Mulder had other ideas.
 
 

     The little cat had lost interest in snuggling. Instead, the

skinny little body was all a quiver. His mouth opened, his lips

pulled back, and a sound almost like a bird's squawk came out. He

began turning around and around and around in a frenzy on Sam's

lap. "What's wrong?" Sam asked, more than a little worried.  In

response, the animal opened wide and took a bite out of Sam's coat

and began to pull frantically.
 
 

     "Hey, that's my coat! Who do you think you are, Lassie?"
 
 

     And the night turned quiet and then white. Blinding, pure

seamless white. Sam found he couldn't move, couldn't feel. He felt

he was the filament inside an incandescent light bulb, glowing like

the sun but not burning. Time stood still.
 
 

     And then it was over.
 
 

***********************************************
 
 

     Mulder passed a hand over his eyes, a little dazed. He had run

outside to see the light and he'd seen it, like so many others,

tantalizing, but so far away. When he should have felt

exhilaration, he was left with only sadness and loss and

helplessness. Maybe Samantha was up there somewhere. He stood up.

No use sitting on the steps in the dark, freezing with the ugly

little cat in his lap. Besides, Scully was waiting in their nice

warm bed and suddenly the thought of her made him very anxious to

join her there, certain parts of him definitely more anxious to

join her there than others.
 
 

     Inside, as he was approaching the bed, Mulder sniffed. He was

smelling the femaleness of Scully. And, though he did not know it,

he was also smelling the scent of a female cat in heat which she

must have gotten on her when she held the grey cat. He didn't try

to identify the scents, however. He simply allowed himself to enjoy

how they affected him. He growled low in his throat and began to

circle the bed as he stripped off his clothes.
 
 

     Dana felt something large and warm and naked and insistent

laying up against her back. A warm breath was nuzzling her ear. She

should resist his advances, give him a taste of his own medicine.

She was furious over the day and the evening before. He had ignored

her, worse than that, snubbed her. Well, Fox Mulder could go take

a flying leap for all she cared. But lips and tongue and teeth

were working over her neck. Hands moved deftly and with heat over

her body. She turned over, meaning to tell him exactly what she

thought of him, but, before she could speak, he was there. His

mouth was there over hers, hot, demanding. More than hot. Fiery.

And his eyes above hers glowed golden in what was left of the fire

light and melted her down into her component parts.
 
 

     A few feet away Sam shivered, a tiny, furry lump under the

armchair, *his* chair. He tried not to hear the panting and

growling and moaning from the bed, tried to wrap his thin tail over

his cold nose. How could this have happened again? How...how...how?
 
 

     And then it came to him. Part of it anyway. Now where was Al

when you needed him?
 
 

     As if on cue Al appeared, dressed in, of all things a red

plaid lumberjack shirt and sleek black leather pants. He stood in

the middle of the room and stared at the bed.
 
 

     "Oh, Sam... Sam..." Al moaned, his voice showing his

disappointment even as his eye drank in the sight. Two more

beautiful human specimens he had seldom seen.
 
 

     "I'm down here!" Sam projected as loudly as he could in hopes

to be heard over the creaking of the ancient sofa bed and the

whimpers and sighs.
 
 

     Al heard but took a long count of ten before he could pull his

eyes away from the bed. Eventually, he did get down on the floor to

look face to face at the little cat. "Sam?"
 
 

     "Don't ask."
 
 

     "Then that's Mulder up there? I'd say he recovered quickly."
 
 

     Playfully, Dana made an attempt to lunge off the bed, but an

arm came out and grabbed her, pulling her down on top of the arm's

owner, her back to his front. Long arms and legs wrapped around her

and flipped her over with ease. Dana made a sound like a woman

possessed, and loving every minute of it.
 
 

     "Al, We *have* to get out of here. It's indecent."
 
 

     "They're not indecent. They're consenting adults."
 
 

     "*We're* indecent for being here."
 
 

     "Well, not including that closet-sized bathroom, this place

has exactly two rooms, this one and the kitchen and the kitchen

door is closed and I can't open it for you."
 
 

     Sam was so desperate he would try anything. He heaved himself

up and went to study the door while Al sauntered into the kitchen,

passing through the wall, with only one last lingering backwards

glance at the mating ritual going on in the bed behind him.
 
 

     Sam was finding that there were advantages to weighing eight

pounds, having the strength and agility, for your size, of a

Olympic gymnast and - again, for your size - the brain the size of

a planet. The kitchen door handle was the pull down kind. Sam

leaped to the top of the bookcase, gauged the distance, calculated

the speed and mass ratio, and dropped, pulling the handle down. His

momentum and the weight of his body was just enough to disengage

the lock and leave the door ajar from the frame an eight of an

inch. An eight of an inch was enough to give purchase to sharp

little claws.
 
 

     Sam was making use of the claws on all four paws to pull

open the door wide enough to admit his little body, when he paused

to project a very pertinent question, "Al, where is she?"
 
 

     Al didn't need to ask who Sam meant by 'she'. He had popped in

during that little encounter, but Sam had been too concerned about

'Sylvester' surviving his own little mating ritual to notice.
 
 

     "Her Majesty's asleep in the corner, or seems to be. You

hoping she's changed her mind?"
 
 

     "Oh, you saw that? Poor Mulder. Let's say I'm hoping she

hasn't. I plan to keep my distance from that man killer."
 
 

     Away from the distraction going on in the bed, Sam finally

remembered what he had wanted so desperate to tell Al.
 
 

     "Al, I think I know what's going on, or at least what's

causing Mulder and I to keep changing places."
 
 

     Al was interested. Even interested enough to take his mind off

what he was missing in the other room. "Anything you've got, buddy,

is more than we have now, which is nothing."
 
 

     Sam leaped onto the counter so he could be closer to eye level

with Al and wouldn't have to project so hard to be heard. After

all, he did not want to wake up Lacretia Borgia.
 
 

     "Al, there was a light tonight when we switched places. A

light in the sky. A brilliant white light and there was one the

night before, too, when Mulder leaped into the cat only I forgot

because I was up to my eye balls in snow at the time. Before the

light came I was the man holding a cat in my lap, after the light

I was the cat."
 
 

     "Uh, oh. You're thinking about UFO's again, aren't you? Just

because of what I told you about Mulder?"
 
 

     "You didn't tell me anything about Mulder except that what he

did was classified. Scully was the one who mentioned UFO's. That

and Mulder has a weird choice in reading material."
 
 

     "Didn't I? I meant to. He's a UFO chaser and I guess you could

say, a parapsychologist. He's the FBI's specialist in the

paranormal."
 
 

     "I didn't know they had one of those."
 
 

     "Your tax dollars at work. Are you thinking a UFO passed

overhead and that's what caused you to change places?"
 
 

     "That would explain a lot. We know the Quantum leap beam is

magnetized plasma. What if the UFO has a strong magnetic field?"
 
 

     Al rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's possible. I'd like to

check with Ziggy, though. This may even explain your very first

leap in this assignment. Maybe the Quantum Leap beam, which was

meant to take you into Mulder, was deflected into a cat due to a

similar interference with the UFO."
 
 

     "Maybe the magnetic field also modulated it," Sam suggested,

"to allow for the spacial dissimilarities."
 
 

     "By that are you suggesting that that's why you can leap into

something so small? Why the cat seems to be bigger on the inside

than it is on the outside?"
 
 

     Sam's golden tiger eyes fixed Al with a withering gaze.

"Right.

What you said. And maybe there's enough residual Quantum leap

'stuff' around to make the leap shift every time the UFO flies

over."
 
 

     "'Stuff'. Very technical, Sam. Don't let those kitty brain

cells turn your grey matter to oatmeal the way they did to Mulder."
 
 

     Defensively, Sam sat up, pushing out his narrow furry chest.

"Just who came up with this explanation anyway? Do you have a

better one?"
 
 

      "Not at the moment." Al sucked on his cigar and paced the

moonlit kitchen. "The first night you said you were unconscious

after the transfer. How did tonight go?"
 
 

     "Just some disassociation. The varying factor is probably the

distance we were apart at the time. We were a few yards apart the

first night and he was sitting on my lap tonight."
 
 

     Al rubbed his eyes. "This almost makes sense, which means I've

been talking to you too long. At least it's someplace to start.

I'll go converse with Ziggy." Al looked over to the grey cat in the

corner who was beginning to stretch. He winked at Sam's skinny,

little body. "Watch your step, killer."
 
 

     And Al was gone, leaving Sam alone with Her Majesty Lacretia.

Sam shuddered at the thought, dropped lightly down to the floor and

poked his head around the corner of the door.
 
 

     Mulder was propped up against the head of the bed, holding

Dana before him in his arms. She was panting, her sweaty body

glowing in the fire light.
 
 

     "Mulder, that was . . . *great*!  I never thought about the

back of my neck being an erogenous zone before.  You almost drew

blood when you bit me."
 
 

     He nuzzled his head against hers, breathing in her scent. A

rumble began again deep in his chest. "You smell sooooo good,

Scully."
 
 

     She snuggled back against him, liking the slick softness of

his warm skin. "I didn't realize how . . . inhibited we were having

neighbors so close by."  Dana giggled.  "If we were that loud at

home, the neighbors would have called the cops ."
 
 

     "Scully, dear, we are the cops."
 
 

     "In that case...." She turned in his arms and pulled him down

on top of her. "Can you do it to me again, Tiger?
 
 

     Sam pulled back from the door. Nope, not safe to go back in

yet. Not for a *long* time.
 
 

*****************************************************************

End of part 4
 
 
 
 

===========================================================================
 
 

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Subject: NEW: Mulder's Leap/silly QL xover 5/9 by k. & Windsinger

Date: 7 Apr 1996 23:46:11 -0400
 
 
 
 

Mulder's Leap 5/9

by K. (1013@hehe.com) and Windsinger@aol.com (AKA Sue Esty)

2/25/96
 
 

See part 1 for notes and disclaimer.
 
 

******************************************
 
 

     Turning from the living room and its preoccupied inhabitants,

Sam looked towards the spot next to the stove where Lacretia had

been curled up sleeping. She was gone. Sam scanned the floor.

Nothing. He heard a sound like a soft motor, but it was not the hum

of the refrigerator motor and it was coming from above him. Sam

looked up and up... He was standing under a high kitchen bar stood.

Something was sitting on that stool. Something that had not been

there before with legs and arms and a tail. Something nearly

Mulder's size.
 
 

     Slowly, Sam backed up, belly to the ground. By the light from

the moon outside he saw her, Lacretia, only now she was nearly six

feet tall. And she was not just large but human. Human, that is,

except that she was covered with silvery grey fur and the owner of

a proud full tail, long exquisite ears and ....
 
 

     Sam blinked. Breasts were peeking through the luscious belly

fur. Six of them. She opened her pert, lovely muzzle.
 
 

     "Well?"
 
 

     Sam shivered. <Well, what?> he wondered. He wasn't even quite

certain he was sane at that moment.
 
 

     "Ezeeka, stop playing games and reverse the polarity of the

fourth dimensional field." The tail unwound itself and moved with

more flexibility and deliberation than any animal tail Sam had ever

seen. Its tip touched him on the shoulder. He flinched. When it

touched his nose, he sneezed.
 
 

     Sam began to feel decisively odd. The room began to spin. Sam

clamped his eyes shut tight. The vertigo persisted. He felt as if

he was swelling, falling, diving, dying. The world settled down.

Sam opened one eye.
 
 

     Everything was the same and yet everything was different. Same

chairs, same appliances, same cupboards, only they where suddenly

much smaller. The room was smaller. No, Sam realized, almost

happily. I'm larger.
 
 

     And he was. Definitely larger, but still smaller than

Lacretia. He figured he was about Scully's size and he was sitting

on something like haunches, but just on his back legs. His paws

where no longer paws, but not quite hands, either, though there was

an opposable thumb. By the mirror like effect from the glass on the

windows he could tell that he was just as ugly as he had been

before. Certainly his black and white splotchy fur was as thin and

unbecoming as before.
 
 

     Lacretia just sat as he collected himself. "Ezeeka!" she

snapped to get his attention. The name rolled off her tongue. Sam

hit the floor on his belly.
 
 

     "Sit up, sit up, you fool," she said in her rich voice almost

like cloves in its uniqueness. "Has the terran animal host gotten

to what few brain cells you have? Save such fawning for the elders.

I speak as your -" After she used a word Sam didn't understand,

Lacretia stretched, obviously enjoying the rippling of her muscles

over the thick fur. Catching sight of Sam's bony body and scanty,

straggly fur, her slitted cat eye narrowed. "Leave it to you,

Ezeeka, to select the mangiest receptacle imaginable. Have you no

pride?"
 
 

     Still too awed to speak, Sam lowered his head.
 
 

     "Hrumpf! By now you'd think I'd know better. It wouldn't do me

any good to ask why you haven't completed your assignment, either,

I suppose. You were instructed to bring the human male to the place

of examination. Is that so difficult? You do not even need to

assist in the actual capture if he passes the testing. We'll take

care of that." Sam kept silent. He didn't even know if he could

speak, and, if he could, what would he say? Thankfully, she did not

seem that surprised at his silence.
 
 

     "You have until moon set tomorrow. We'll be waiting. Do you

remember where?" In answer to his blank stare, she snorted, gave

him some precise longitude and latitude coordinates then rose off

the chair, as graceful as a dancer well-rehearsed in her

choreography.
 
 

     The interview had seemed at an end, but then she continued.

"For my own amusement, Ezeeka, does he really show signs of a true

belief? Is he convinced that there is life beyond this world and

that we have come? I have not seen one of these believers with my

own eyes. I would like to, but then he will have to come with us so

perhaps that is not such a good thing for him. It is also not a

policy I agree with." She pulled herself up onto the counter,

drawing up her lovely legs. For the first time Sam realized she was

naked in her fur and he was comfortable with that. "Remember,

Ezeeka, any way you can get him there is acceptable. He can be

asleep, unconscious, whatever. It will make little difference to

the test. Just bring him, Ezeeka. Make us proud."
 
 

     At that she slid open the window above the sink with one paw.

"Close this after I am gone," she ordered, and with that, something

happened which made Sam's heart stop. The air wavered. She changed,

she shrunk, until only the grey cat which they had called Lacretia

remained. For an extra second, Lacretia stared at Sam where he sat

still sitting on his haunches on the floor, then with a swish of

her tail, she vanished out the open window.
 
 

     The cold from the open window finally woke Sam from his

paralysis. As he closed the kitchen window, he saw a large grey cat

move into the woods at the furthest edge of the moonlit lawn. He

stood and took in deep breaths, staring out into the night where

somewhere, a UFO waited.
 
 

     "Oh, Boy..."  Sam whispered, his mouth feeling odd as he

spoke.
 
 

     "You called?"
 
 

     Al winked into view, but his head was down as he looked at the

parti-colored display on his controller. "Ziggy's real impressed by

your hypothesis, Sam, however, she finds it a little far

fetched..."
 
 

     That was when Al looked up and for the first time saw the

unimaginable. Standing by the counter near the kitchen sink was a

large black and white cat (?) / humanoid (?)/ animal (?)/ whatever,

about the size of a preteenage boy. It's hands were thick and

shaped roughly like paws, the hair which covered its body, was long

and lanky.
 
 

     Al blinked. "Sam?"
 
 

     "In the flesh, so to speak," the giant cat answered.
 
 

     "W-What...h-happened?"
 
 

     Sam moved to hop lightly and with grace onto the stool where

Lacretia had sat. Being up on something felt somehow appropriate.

"Al, Lacretia was not just any cat. Neither was Sylvester."
 
 

     "That I'll buy."
 
 

     "She talked to me." Sam gestured to his chest. "*This*, Al,

belongs to an alien. Someone called Ezeeka. Well, no, not entirely.

There really is some poor, skinny little Earth kitty in here, but

overlaid is some kind of alien presence. I think Ezeeka's people

have got their own kind of Quantum leap beam but it's controllable.

He's even got a dimensional switch which allows him to appear

either as the cat or some amalgamation of himself and the host he's

selected.  Lacretia is its teacher, supervisor, whatever, and she

just dressed him down for messing up his assignment which was to

see that Mulder was taken someplace for an alien examination. Did

you get all that?"
 
 

     Al stared. "Are you saying this body is part real cat and part

alien and you leaped into it? Good going, Sam. No one's ever going

to believe that."
 
 

     "I guess that's why they never used this story in the series."
 
 

     "No guts, no glory." Al paced, eyes wide on the huge, mangy

cat perched on the stool. "You said something about an examination

and Mulder? What is this examination supposed to be about?"
 
 

     Sam sighed and crossed his elegant, furry legs. It felt good

to sit almost like a normal person. "They're interested in people

who believe in extraterrestrials. They are obviously interested in

collecting a few. Mulder's clearly a prime candidate for becoming

an unhappy passenger on a cruise to a distant planetary system."
 
 

     Al face opened in a look of wonder. "By Ziggy, it all fits

doesn't it? You were sent here to change places with Mulder because

you have always been very skeptical about the possibility of

extraterrestrials. Mulder believes in them fervently."
 
 

     Sam nodded. "Looks like it was intended for the aliens to

examine me. Since I don't believe, they'd reject Mulder. Then I

leap out, Mulder leaps back in, and that's that."
 
 

      "Only it didn't work that way. Your Quantum leap beam got

deflected by the UFO's magnetic field, and instead was attracted to

the similar magnetic resonance in that strikingly handsome form you

are now inhabiting."
 
 

     "And Mulder and I have been playing ping pong ever since each

time the UFO passes overhead."
 
 

     "And Mulder's still in danger." Al chewed his cigar. "What's

this examination entail? At the moment you appear to be one of

their 'people'. Can't you just swear to them that he doesn't

believe?"
 
 

     Sam's shoulders drooped. "Good try, but Ezeeka has to

physically deliver him to the examination point." Sam had searched

his eidetic memory against the geographical coordinates Lacretia

had given him. Thinking was certainly easier and more natural to

think in this form than when he had been a little cat. "That would

be about two miles northeast of here. That seems to be my only job.

They dip into the subconscious, by the way, which is why Mulder

can't just lie. I was sent here to give them a subconscious to

examine that really didn't believe. They even said I could deliver

him unconscious, if I had to, and the examination would still be

valid."
 
 

     Al frowned. "Then we've got to get Mulder out of his body

again. Good thing you've figured out how to control this alien

leaping. You just need to get the UFO to buzz this place on cue.

Too bad that Mulder's not going to like it."
 
 

     "Al, all I know is that this alien-cat hybrid acts as a sort

of catalyst or magnet for the UFO's magnetic field, I can't control

when the UFO flies over."
 
 

     Al paced the kitchen floor, thinking. Sam let him. When it

came to convoluted, screw-ball ideas, Al was the master. Suddenly,

the hologram's bowed head snapped up. "I've got it!" Al raised his

arms cigar in one hand, the control box shining like a pinball

machine in the other. "Sam, look at you. You're an alien. All you

have to do is walk up and *ask* Lacretia to have the ship to fly

over a couple of times."
 
 

     "You've go to be kidding."
 
 

     "Tell them it's to make absolutely sure Mulder doesn't

believe. If, after a couple of fly-by's he still doesn't believe,

he never will."
 
 

     "Al, listen to yourself. I don't know how to talk to an

alien."
 
 

     "So we find someone who can."
 
 

     "So where do we find an alien expert in the middle of the

night?"
 
 

     Al stared towards the now quiet living room.
 
 

     "Mulder?" Sam asked incredulously.  "In the cat again? I know

he has to vacate his body anyway, however, I don't like what being

a cat did to him."
 
 

     "What's he doing, marking the furniture?"
 
 

     "Not that bad - yet." Sam stretched. His joints felt all

wrong. It would be nice to feel human and male again. "I have to

admit, though, I wouldn't mind being Mulder again for a while."
 
 

     "With that hot number around, I don't blame you, but that

won't work, not any more." Al shook the holographic ashes off his

holographic cigar. "You've seen the alien Lacretia. Heck, look at

yourself! And you've seen what the UFO can do. Sam, tell me the

truth, do you believe in extraterrestrials now?"
 
 

     Sam felt this job getting very messy. "I'm afraid I do."
 
 

     "Mulder's ass is going to be killing time in a zoo in Alpha

Centauri then." There was silence then Al began. "Unless we find

another donor, someone who doesn't believe in ET's, to leap into

Mulder's body for a few critical minutes."
 
 

     Sam looked blank.
 
 

     "Who's left, Sam?"
 
 

     "You?"
 
 

     "Guess again."
 
 

     "I hate this plot."
 
 

     "So do I but it's all we've got. Guess again, Sam."
 
 

     "Scully?"
 
 

     "Bingo."
 
 

     "But surely Scully believes, she works with the guy."
 
 

     Al made a definitive negative gesture with his head. "She's

the ultimate skeptic."
 
 

     Sam's expression was as pensive as it could be under the

circumstances. "I wish I still had my slide rule, but at this point

I'd settle for a pencil and a piece of paper. I need to graph this

out. If we do manage to switch her into Mulder's body - and I have

no idea how we're going to pull that off - as soon as she sees the

UFO, she'll believe."
 
 

     "You said she could be unconscious. Drunk would probably work

as well."
 
 

     Sam's eyes opened wide. "And that's what you expect me to do?

Walk in there and say, 'Oh, Mulder, go get your girlfriend -"
 
 

     "- Partner -" Al corrected.
 
 

     "Partner? Is this an FBI definition of partner I have been

heretofore unacquainted with?" Sam sighed and began again.

"'Mulder, why don't you go get you *partner* drunk and then we're

going to project her into your body to be examined by aliens and

*you* - for you, we're going to turn you back into one scrawny

excuse for a cat.'"
 
 

     "Sounds good to me if it moves the plot along."
 
 

     Sam leaped lightly down from the stool. "Al, I can't just walk

in there. Scully's in there! Look at me! I'm a five foot -"
 
 

     Al cocked his head. "Four and a half, I'd say."
 
 

     "I'm a four and a half foot ugly cat! I gather he can hear me

speak now, while as a cat he couldn't, but that means she can hear

me, too. And what if she sees me? Then we're all dog meat!"
 
 

     "Then you are going to have to get him alone in order to speak

to him. By the way, now that you're a big, ugly cat, how do you

become a small, ugly cat again? Unless you stay totally out of

Scully's way, you're going to need to change your appearance to

something a little less - conspicuous."
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     After Al left to burn a few of Ziggy's circuits with the news

of what was going on, Sam sat in the middle of the kitchen, big and

hairy and ugly, and wished, more than anything, that he was small

and furry and that he was hiding under his chair. He wished that

the world and this assignment would go away and that Scully would

hold him. As quick as that thought, he was small and furry. With

practice and a little concentration, he found the opposite worked

as well. At least something was operating with minimal effort on

this nutty assignment. The space under his armchair, however, was

probably cold and the world had not gone away and Scully was in

there holding Mulder.
 
 

     One problem down but three more yet to solve. How was he going

to find a way to get Mulder alone for a long talk? How was he going

to talk him into getting Scully drunk and then how was he going to

convince the man to agree to their outlandish plan?
 
 

     Sam padded into the living room. He was only a speck again in

a giant world. What could he do? His tail dragged along the floor.

This half-baked plan had better work or Mulder was going to

disappear within twenty-four hours and that beautiful, sensual

woman would be left grief-stricken and alone.
 
 

     Sam headed for his desolate spot under the chair. He lay there

miserably for about five minutes, but the fire in the fireplace was

nearly out and it was cold. Seeking warmth and human companionship

Sam walked on soft little cat feet up to the couch bed and crawled

up as quietly as he could so that he would not wake the sleeping

couple. He picked a spot among the blankets above their intertwined

legs. It was lumpy, and lacked closeness but it would do. Suddenly

a large male hand came out of the dark. Sam cringed, afraid he was

going to be tossed off the bed, into the cold and frightening room.

Instead the large, gentle hand settled the cat into a warm hallow

between the man and the woman and began to stroke the little body

from the top of his head to the tip of his sorry excuse for a tail.
 
 

     Above Sam's head, Mulder's eyes glowed sleepy and golden and

satiated. "What's wrong little fellow? Do you feel all alone in the

world? No one loves you? I know just where you're coming from. You

just stick with me and I'll fatten you up, get you in shape and,

before you know it, you'll be able to hold your own with all the

other sex-crazed Toms out there. Then you'll get yourself a hot

little female just like mine."
 
 

     The hand moved down and began to scratch the little cat under

the chin. Sam felt all his tension and misery melt away. A few

minutes before he had felt he was in hell, now he was certain he

was in heaven.
 
 

*****************************************************************

end of part 5
 
 
 
 

===========================================================================
 
 

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Subject: NEW: Mulder's Leap/silly QL xover 6/9 by K. & Windsinger

Date: 7 Apr 1996 23:46:19 -0400
 
 
 
 

Mulder's Leap  (6/9)

by K. (1013@hehe.com) and Windsinger@aol.com (AKA Sue Esty)

2/23/96
 
 

See part 1 for notes and disclaimer.
 
 

****************************************
 
 

     Mulder was having the most wonderful dream.  There weren't any

images, just a feeling of being rocked and soothed. Half-awake, he

was fastidiously licking the back of Scully's neck just at the

hairline. She must have been having a  pretty great dream herself,

because she was making small, happy sounds, angling her head so he

could reach the soft skin just behind her ear.  With one final,

slow lick, he woke up and stretched.  In fact, he took an extra

long time stretching this morning, it felt that good. Scully slept

on.  He leaned over and kissed her, catching that scent in her hair

again. Lustful urges sprang to life once again. <What is up with me

anyway?> He crawled out of bed and looked down. <Now, that was a

stupid question.>
 
 

     The chill of the room and the distance from Scully's scent

soon deflated Mulder's enthusiasm for procreation as he started

thinking about the second must important thing on his mind -

food.  The engine was sputtering. He felt like he hadn't had a

decent meal in ages.
 
 

     Rapidly, he pulled on the discarded sweats, socks and

sweatshirt, staring at them for a second, trying to remember

when he had ever worn those colors together.  Funny, he thought

he had worn a t-shirt to bed.  Shrug.  Food was more important than

logic at this time of the morning.
 
 

     On his way to the kitchen, Mulder spied Sylvester sitting on

the back of the couch and gazing forlornly out of the window.

"What's wrong, fella? You look like you have the weight of the

world on your shoulders? Let's us menfolk find some breakfast."

With that Mulder picked up the little cat, plopped it down on his

shoulder with a rough, playful stroke and sauntered into the

kitchen.
 
 

     The contents of the refrigerator did not inspire confidence.

He did find half a block of Spam pushed to the back, which was odd.

Personally, he loved Span, though he would never admit it, but he

hadn't had any in years.  He certainly hadn't had any on this trip,

and he could not see Dana ever touching the stuff.  It must have

been left by some other renters, though they usually cleaned out

the refrigerator between guests. Hesitantly, he sniffed it,

wondering how old it was. It smelled all right, but with Spam one

could never tell. Mulder wasn't sure that stuff *could* go bad, but

he decided not to take the chance. As he pushed the block into the

garbage, he smiled with a kind of lustful anticipation. He had

other plans for the day, all involving Scully and creative mating

activities, and being sick wasn't on the agenda.
 
 

     So intent was Mulder on finding sustenance for his own

stomach, he didn't notice that Sylvester was gazing into the trash

can at the discarded meat with a mournful expression.
 
 

     Humming loudly which set off a pleasant vibration from his

sinuses all the way down into his chest, Mulder did find a bowl of

tuna covered in foil, seemingly untouched.  Deciding this was

probably Sylvester's, he scooted the bowl across the floor to where

the little cat was now lying sadly with it's chin on his front

paws. Then Mulder found something in the freezer which made his

heart beat faster. A salmon steak.
 
 

     Whipping it out of its paper and plastic wrapping, he tossed

it on plate and threw it in the microwave. Mesmerized, he watched

the seconds tick by. Fifty-three, fifty-two, fifty-one. For some

odd reason, he couldn't stomach the idea of cooking that lovely

pink meat until it was dry and tasteless. He stopped the timer and

pulled out the steak. It was thawed and still cool. Raw.
 
 

     A couple of minutes later a tousled, sleepy Dana stumbled

into the kitchen to find Mulder standing at the counter, gnawing

on the remains of the raw salmon steak.
 
 

     "Ugh! Mulder, what are you doing?"
 
 

     Mulder looked down at the remains of the raw mess in his

hands, almost as surprised as she was. Somehow it didn't seem

nearly as appetizing any longer. "Uh, eating sashimi. You know,

sushi without the rice?"
 
 

     Dana shivered. "I hope it was good."
 
 

     Hastily, Mulder put the rest in Sylvester's bowl. "Actually,

it tasted as if it had a bad case of freezer burn."
 
 

     Almost at a run, Mulder made for the bathroom where he

threw up the remains of the salmon along with something really

disgusting that looked like a hairball.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     Dana pressed the back of her hand against Mulder's

forehead.  He didn't seem to have a fever.  In fact, he seemed

fine since he'd finished throwing up.  Maybe he wasn't coming

down with anything.  Lord knew if he was, they'd both have it!

His skin was a healthy rose color, not the green tint it had been

earlier, but he smelled like sweat and sex and raw fish.  Pushing

her hair back with both hands, she realized she felt pretty grungy

herself.  "I'm going to hop in the shower, you want to join me?

Or we could take a long, hot bath together..."
 
 

     "I guess we could help each other scrub those hard-to-reach

spots...,"  he grinned.
 
 

     She laughed.  "Deal."  She pulled him out of the armchair

and led him to the cramped bathroom.  Everything was fine

while she ran the water and added the bubbles, but when the

time came to sink into the steamy water, Mulder froze.  Panic

caused his heart to flutter and his breathing to quicken.
 
 

     "Mulder?  What's wrong?  Do you feel sick again?"  Dana

climbed out of the tub and grabbed a towel to keep from making

a huge puddle on the floor.
 
 

     "Uh, no...Tell you what, why don't you take your bath and

I'll wash up later."  He backed out the door, muttering

reassurances to a worried Scully.
 
 

     Later, when he was alone in the bathroom, he turned the

shower on but couldn't bring himself to step under it.  Instead,

he washed his hair in the sink and gave himself a sponge bath with

the roughest wash cloth he could find.  Odd, but he found rubbing

the rough cloth in long strokes over his skin calming.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     An hour later Mulder announced, "I'm hungry. What sounds good

for lunch?"
 
 

     "It's not lunchtime, yet.  It's too bad we don't have some

goldfish for you to munch on."  Scully propped herself up on her

elbows and looked at him in mock horror.  "*That's* why you're

always having to restock your aquarium, isn't it?"
 
 

     "Ha ha.  A woman with a man-eating dog shouldn't tease

me about my goldfish!"  He looked so injured, she had to laugh.
 
 

     "How about a glass of milk and a peanut butter and jelly

sandwich?  Do you think you could keep that down?"
 
 

     "Yeah, I feel great now!  You stay put and I'll fix it,"

Mulder called out as he bound into the kitchen. "Do you want one?"
 
 

     They ate their snack in front of the hearth.  Scully took the

empty plates to the kitchen while Mulder savored his drink.  The

milk had sat close to the fire for a while and was warm now, but

still tasted better than he could ever remember it tasting before.

Some of it dribbled down his chin and he wiped it away with his

hand.  Discarding the empty glass on the hearth, he sniffed his

hand and licked it until all traces of milk were gone.  A full

stomach and the warmth from the fire made Mulder drowsy.  He

stretched until all of his joints popped and curled up on the

couch.
 
 

     Sam watched Mulder from his warm vantage point on top of the

bookcase. If he did nothing else on this leap, he had proven that

heat definitely rises.
 
 

     Sam meowed mournfully. How was he going to pull this off?

Unless he could communicate with Mulder somehow, they didn't have

a prayer. Jumping lightly down, the cat sat on the rug in front of

Mulder, and, staring eye to eye into the man's face, racked his

brains, trying to think of a plan.
 
 

     Scully came back from the kitchen a little perturbed over how

low the fire was burning. As she threw the last log on the small

blaze, Mulder raised his head. His eyes were heavy-lidded.
 
 

     "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
 
 

     "That's all right." He noticed what she had been doing and

groaned. "I'm not keeping up my end of the bargain, am I?"
 
 

     "I did agree to cook if you took care of the fire."
 
 

     "I just never dreamed how much firewood it was going to take.

I guess we should have opted for the rental with central heating."

He made a awkward move to get up.
 
 

     "No, no, Mulder. If having a nap will keep you from really

coming down with something I'll do it."
 
 

     "But we've used all the small stuff. A couple of big logs are

okay, but we need a lot of the other."
 
 

     Dana brought herself up to her full height and stared down at

where he sat slumped against the cushions. "And who says that the

macho male is the only one who can split wood? My father taught me

when I was twelve. Besides I need the exercise. We've been eating

like piranhas on this trip." Her eyes narrowed. "Get that look out

of your eyes, Mulder, I said we'd been eating like piranha, not

*eating* piranhas."
 
 

     He grinned lazily. "I wasn't thinking that at all. I was just

going to offer you another type of exercise." She patted him on the

head. "Oh, you'll get you chance, Tiger. Later. Which is why you'd

better get your rest while you can."
 
 

     He flopped back down into a prone position as she went to get

her coat and boots. "Promises... promises..." A minute later a

draft passed over him as the back door opened and closed.

Shivering, he grabbed a pillow and blanket, moved to curl up on

floor next to what was left of the dying fire and quickly drifted

off.
 
 

     No one had been paying much attention to Sylvester, but Sam

had listened eagerly to the whole exchange.
 
 

     Here was his chance! When he was certain by listening to

Mulder's breathing that the agent was asleep, Sam trotted to the

kitchen and leaped up next to the sink to peer out the kitchen

window. Scully was already at it. She had the big ax in her hand

and after a few practice swings was doing a fine job. A fine job

that would keep her occupied for a while. Not long enough for a

good long chat with Mulder, but maybe long enough to plant a

suggestion or two.
 
 

     Mulder was sleeping on his side with his front towards the

fire. Sam sat down out of sight at the man's back and concentrated

on the multidimensional switch. It took a while. For a moment, Sam

was afraid it wasn't going to work. This was not as simple a task

as putting on your shoes, when he had shoes, Sam thought,

begrudgingly, hoping on his next assignment he'd leap into

something nice and normal like a serial killer or a Republican.
 
 

     Finally, he felt the change begin, his vision blurred, the

ratio of his mass to the room decreased dramatically and just like

that he was in Ezeeka's version of Sylvester's incarnation.

Clearing his throat, leaned over and began to whisper in Mulder

ear.
 
 

     Sam whispered about sex. Not the most comfortable subject for

one heterosexual man to whisper to another, but he had enough

foreign films memorized to manage. He talked softly about how

lovely a woman Scully was. How it might be nice to see how she

would behave if she was *really* uninhibited, perhaps after a few

glasses of some really strong stuff. The words didn't matter. The

idea and the repetition were what was important. At one point Sam

leaned too close and his whiskers tickled Mulder's ear. The man's

hand came up and he batted with a curled fist, almost like a paw,

at where the giant cat's head had been a moment before.
 
 

     Sam's stomach twisted with guilt. He felt awful about this.

About this whole plan. What did he think he was doing involving

other people like this? He would probably have to tell Mulder about

Quantum Leap which was a definite no-no. And the way he and Sam had

talked about using Scully without her consent was shameless. They

would be exposing her to danger, too. And Mulder? Sam was very

concerned about Mulder's leaping into the cat persona again. Even

if all the bodies and personalities sorted themselves out correctly

in the end, Mulder may very well end up sniffing catnap for the

rest of his life and thinking that an object swinging on the end of

a string was a pretty good idea.
 
 

     Intently, Sam studied Mulder's face. There was a sexual glow

to him, a subtle but unmistakable roguish expression. The tip of

his tongue traced his sensual lips as if he had just tasted

something that pleased him. The man was clearly deep in a very

pleasant dream. Sam's subliminal messages had done that much. Now

to see where it would lead.
 
 

     Sam steeled himself and took a last look around the cabin.

Time to return to the land of the giants.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     Cradling an armload of wood Scully returned twenty minutes

later to stand in the main room of a cabin, a smile on her lips,

and wished she had brought her camera.
 
 

     Mulder was lying on his side in front of the fire like a great

big cat and Sylvester was curled in a ball almost within his arms.

They were so cute together. She hated to wake either one of them

but the fire was nearly out.
 
 

     Mulder did wake when Dana had to step over him to reach the

hearth, but he woke with a bright and eager eye. She was pleased

that the little nap had done him so much good. He even threw on his

boots and made multiple trips out to the wood pile to bring in

enough wood to last them for at least another day.
 
 

     They stacked it together. The fire was a high blaze now. The

room was warm, almost too hot. Scully pulled off her sweater.

Mulder pulled off his. She read the light in his eyes and eagerly

reached to help him off with his t-shirt, but he put a finger to

his lips as if he had a secret and vanished into the kitchen.

Sylvester followed like a shadow.
 
 

     Mulder took out glasses, then reached under the cupboard and

fetched a bottle of wine.
 
 

     <WINE!!!> Sam meowed with a spit and a hiss that got Mulder

chuckling. For the plan, Mulder would need the hard stuff. Well,

Sylvester could take care of that. When Mulder turned away to hunt

for the cork screw, one swipe from a well placed kitty paw disposed

of the wine.
 
 

     In answer to the loud crash, Scully raced into the kitchen to

find Mulder grumbling as he picked up the pieces of glass.
 
 

     "What happened?"
 
 

     "I was going to bring us each in a nice glass of wine but

Sylvester had other ideas."
 
 

     Scully smiled and picked up the little cat holding it high as

it squirmed. "Bad kitty, bad kitty."
 
 

     Mulder straightened up with a impish grin, holding up a dusty

bottle of a clear liquid. "Oh, I don't know. All the beer's gone,

but I found this we can use as a substitute."
 
 

     "Vodka?"
 
 

     He poured a sizable amount into two glasses. "Tastes not half

bad mixed with orange juice."
 
 

     "You're thinking Mimosas, Mulder, only those are made with

champagne. Thanks, but none for me."
 
 

     Mulder added the orange juice. When he turned, she saw his

expression had rearrange itself into a pout. "Oh, come on, Scully.

I want to see how you are when you are - wild, uninhibited."
 
 

     "More than last night?" she asked, incredulously.
 
 

     His smile had a wicked gleam to it as he handed her both

glasses. "Unless you try, you'll never know what's lurking under

that well controlled exterior, Dr. Scully." He had come closer. His

eyes were drinking in the sight of her. His body still radiated

heat from the fire and from his dream.
 
 

     Dana felt the tides threaten to sweep her away. To give in to

him was also what she wanted at that moment. He was so close she

could feel her knees getting weak as desire touched off all the

hormones. "I'll probably just fall asleep," she defended lamely, a

little afraid to find out herself.
 
 

     The next thing she knew he had lifted her, laughing, up in his

arms was carrying her off to the couch and the blazing fires within

and without.
 
 

     Sylvester sat on the kitchen floor purring with satisfaction.

So far so good, but, much as he hated to eavesdrop, Sam knew he

would need to monitor these two. Scully needed to drink

considerably but not Mulder. Sam sighed. Maybe during his next leap

he could oversee a rabbit farm or something like that.  Some place

where there was a little less sex going on.
 
 

     Before trotting into the living room, the cat stopped at a

puddle of the spilled wine Mulder and missed cleaning up and lapped

up some of the lovely liquid.
 
 

     "Waste not, want not," Sam rationalized.
 
 

*****************************************************
 
 

     "Mulder, get *off* me!"
 
 

     Mulder was hot, he was heavy, and he had passed out.
 
 

     When he only groaned in reply, Dana put the heel of a hand on

each bare shoulder and pushed him off. Turning on her side, she

propped her head up in one hand, and studied him. "You are *never*

going to live this down, Fox Mulder."
 
 

     A moan this time. "Wha' happened?"
 
 

     "You got drunk. By the way, didn't your teachers ever tell you

to be prepared to complete what you start?"
 
 

     Rolling over onto his stomach he put his head in his hands and

moaned again. "I'm *so* sorry, Scully."
 
 

     "I've no doubt you are."
 
 

     "I drank too much and you're not even woozy."
 
 

     "Oh, I had some, but if you hadn't distracted me I could have

told you that I don't become a Jersey Devil when I drink."
 
 

     "So at least I distracted you?" he asked hopefully.
 
 

     "You always distract me, Mulder," Dana said rising and

beginning to dress in her hastily discarded clothing. "Come on,

let's go for a nice long walk to clear our heads."
 
 

     The spirit was willing but the flesh definitely was not.

Mulder's head swam when Dana tugged on his arm and from somewhere

a memory of the freezing cold and being small and helpless induced

in Mulder a dread of the outdoors and a sudden deep shiver
 
 

     Dropping down by his side, Dana put the back of her hand to

his forehead again finding it damp and chilled. "Mulder, what's

wrong? You look like you're going to be sick again."
 
 

     "I didn't think I drank that much." In fact Mulder didn't

remember how much he had drunk. Clearly too much. What a fiasco.

Though he had never been around for their love making before,

Sylvester had always seemed to be in the way. The cat had actually

almost upset Mulder's glass three times, but Mulder had always

managed to rescue it. Now he was sorry he had.
 
 

     He gave Dana the whipped puppy look he had read in those

Romance novels that the women like so much. "I'm sorry, Scully. You

know I don't drink as a rule. That wasn't like me. I don't know why

I even started that. I don't know what I was thinking."
 
 

     "That's the point. You weren't thinking and you have been

acting a little weirder than normal today. Actually, a lot weirder

than normal."
 
 

     That comment really hurt and his fallen expression was not an

act this time. He knew he was behaving erratically. He just didn't

know why. In fact, that was probably the main reason why he

probably had drunk more than was good for him. Being anxious about

why he was acting so out of character had just caused him to drink

more, which itself was out of character.
 
 

     "Poor baby," Dana was crooning as she ruffled his hair. It

even hurt when she did that. "Maybe you'd better stay here and

sleep it off. I wouldn't want you to fall down the hill and go

boom." She paused and lowered her voice to a throaty purr. "Besides

I have plans for later and I want you awake. We have unfinished

business."
 
 

     His eyes lit from behind with that inner glow she loved. "You

mean we can pick up where we left off?"
 
 

     "I doubt you could, I doubt you'd want to, but we could start

over. Only my rules this time."
 
 

     He smiled. "I that case I'll make jello while you're gone."
 
 

     Playfully, she made a fist as if to hit him. "Enough already.

Is it all right if I go? I want to find that view the guidebook

talks so much about. That means I'll be gone at least an hour."
 
 

     Just as Mulder had managed to prop himself into a half sitting

position, Sylvester leaped, and Mulder went flat down on his back

again with a whoosh. The cat lay down on Mulder's bare chest with

an attitude that he was not about to let this one get away.
 
 

     "I'll be fine," he groaned. "The mighty hunter here will

protect me."
 
 

     Dana bent to pet the feisty little animal. "I agree I don't

think Sylvester wants you to go." Picking up the black and white

bundle of ragged fur, she held it up to her face. "I'll let Mulder

stay and play with you on one condition - that you don't let him

drink any more of that nasty concoction and, if he tries it, you

have my permission to bite him this time. Can I count on you?"

Wearing the most serious of expressions on its face, Sylvester

answered with such a definitive yowl that Dana laughed.
 
 

     "There's my little guy. You'd better watch out, Mulder. I

think he understands me." Quickly she gave the little cat a kiss on

the nose and patted its head and then she bent down and gave the

same to Mulder. "Now don't you two boys mess up the house too much

while I'm gone."
 
 

     As he watched Dana prepare for her hike, Sam sat on Mulder's

stomach, resisting a strong desire to territorially knead his paws

and nails into that skin. Dana was going, Mulder was his, all his.

Mulder was going to get the surprise of his life.
 
 
 
 

*****************************************************************

End of chapter 6
 
 
 
 

===========================================================================
 
 

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Subject: NEW: Mulder's Leap/silly QL xover 7/9 by Windsinger & K.

Date: 8 Apr 1996 00:06:17 -0400
 
 
 
 

Mulder's Leap (7/9)

by K. (1013@hehe.com) and Windsinger@aol.com (AKA Sue Esty)

2/26/96
 
 

See part 1 for notes and disclaimer.
 
 

*********************************************
 
 

     Mulder opened one eye. The room swayed blurrily, then focused.

He rapidly shut the eye. He definitely had had too much to drink,

eithe