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Walter's Wenches In Waiting
(W.W.I.W.)

THE LAST TEMPTATION OF DELPHI: PART I

THE PLOT IS HATCHED

by Delphi Priestess

Mulder sat slumped in his chair, his desk piled with junk mail, case files, and fan letters.  Despite his obvious popularity, his hoards of fans and his legions of devoted worshipers, his face was glum and morose.

"I'm glum and morose," he said to himself, balancing an official NBA basketball on the end of his nose.

"Why don't you try doing something constructive," Agent Scully said, arching an eyebrow at the heaping pile of paperwork littering his desk.

"Naw," he drawled lazily, giving the ball on his nose a spin, "I need to do something creative, something artistic, something worthwhile that will sate my nearly insatiable craving for truth and beauty."

"Yeah," Scully agreed sourly, rising stiffly from her cramped work space on his office floor, "that was a real shame about Krycek stealing your mirror."

The ball dropped heavily onto his lap, causing him to sit upright.

"C'mon, Scully," he whined, "back me up here."

Scully added the neatly, officially completed stack of files she'd been working on to his towering mess.

"Ya know, Mulder," she said grumpily, "I'm damned tired of supporting you.  I've been carrying you around like a stinking albatross for seven years and frankly, I'm sick of you AND your neediness.  'Love ME!'  'Help ME!'  'Feel sorry for ME!' Tell me, when is it MY turn?  When do I get to be the needy one?"

Mulder was lost in thought.  He had pulled his shirt from his waistband and was staring at his navel.

"Scully," he said in hushed, reverent tones, "did you ever stop to think of the alternative uses a hole in the human abdomen might serve?"

Scully let out a small squeek of frustration.  "That's it, I'm outta here!"

Mulder recovered from his reverey.  "Wait!  Stop!"

"What?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"And that would be....?"

Mulder cocked an eyebrow in the direction of the unfinished files that littered his desk.

"Scully, technically I am your boss, AND your immediate superior; and just because I allow you to avail yourself of my sexual accroutements off duty  doesn't mean that I can also allow you to slack off here at work."

He eyed her sternly, trying to immitate the AD's icy glare.

Scully slumped her shoulders, blew out a long breath and walked back into the office.

"You're right," she said, her voice resigned and obedient, "I suppose I was trading on your sexual generosity."

She snugged her breasts into his hard, muscled belly and ran her hands up his shirt, gripping his shoulders.  She swooned against him for an instant, then brought her knee sharply into his crotch.

Mulder faded like a piece of ice on an August afternoon.  He sat abruptly and rolled over on his side.  His hands were holding his bruised testes, his mouth and eyes wide with amazement.

"Oh, no!"  Scully pouted sarcastically, "Naughty me!  I bwoke my beautifuw, wuscious toy!  BAD Scully!" she scolded, and spanked her own rounded rump.

"Oh well.  Now that I can't use my toy anymore, I won't be tempted to be naughty with it and expect special treatment.  Oooh, ooh, I'm soooo disappointed in me!  I'd better take the day off as punishment for my trangressions.  Yes, I think I need to be alone to ponder the error of my ways.  Bye, Mulder, you sexually accroutemented, self-involved, braying moron!"


Mulder lay motionless on the floor for a long time.  Yes, mostly because even the batting of his own eyelashes caused him severe pain, but also because he felt deeply that Scully meant it this time.  He had lost his supporter, his devotee, his most excellent acolyte.

He took a deep breath and sat upright.

Not too bad.

What to do, what to do?  Without Scully to worship him, how could he survive?  How COULD she leave him?  HE was the one who was supposed to do the leaving!  Cold bitch!

So Mulder gathered himself up and walked from his office and entered the sanctum sanctorum of AD Walter Skinner.

And there, as fate would have it, he met his destiny.

She was the most fantastic creature he had ever seen; rich and lush of body and bosom, hair the deepest fertile brown and shot through with glittering silver.  Full, generous, mouth...a mouth made for laughing and loving and nibbling, a pert nose, and eyes that snapped with life and vitality, and....treasured gift of male genus....interest!  Interest in HIM!

"Come in, Agent Mulder," Skinner was saying, "I'd like you to meet the Delphi Priestess.  She is my Oracle, my jewel, my most wenchly joy."

Skinner's voice was deep and husky with emotion and Mulder couldn't believe that the AD was capable of such feeling.

The vision spoke:  "Oh, now Walter," she laughed, "Agent Mulder and I have met before.  Several times.  How are you, Agent Mulder?"

She extended one gracefully designed hand to him and something in his brain lurched, lunged, and broke free.

Mulder reached to his side and pulled his weapon from its holster.  With a deft move he was on the Priestess, placing her in a choke hold and shoving the barrel of the gun into her serene temple.

Skinner looked as if he would explode with rage.

"Mulder!  You idiot!  That's my Priestess your assaulting!  Let her go right NOW!"

"Not a chance, Skinner!"  Mulder shouted back.  "She's mine now!  And she will worship ME!"

"Never!" Delphi breathed.  "I will NEVER worship you!  For I have devoted my life to the worship of our most worthy SPG and can no longer belong to anyone but him!"

Mulder's lip curled nastily.  "You'll come around!" he snarled.  "You'll worship me or DIE!"

"Mulder!" Walter Skinner cried.  "Let her go!  She's my life!  Nothing is more important to me!"

"You have the rest!"  Mulder sobbed, "legions and legions of worshipers!  BRAWS and WWIWs and an alphabet of female devotees waiting on your every word!  Why, why must you have this angelic creature for your own?"

"Mulder," Skinner said, his voice struggling for control, "put down the gun.  Maybe we could work something out.  Time share!  She could worship us on alternate weeks!"

"No!  No!"  Mulder groaned.

"But Mulder, you have worshipers!  Bags of fan mail come in every day for you!  Letters and cards and fax messages!"

"Oh, sure!"  Mulder wept, his face pressed against Delphi's scented hair, "I've got mail....but most of it is from grim little girls with misspelled words and 'kewls!' every third line.  I want REAL worshippers!  WOMEN with good spelling skills and very few syntax errors and a sense of humor!  I want YOUR fans!!!!!"

"Mulder, think this through!  You'll never get out of here alive."

"If I die, I die with Delphi!"  Mulder shouted.

And with that he swooped the Priestess into his arms and sped from the office and the building before Skinner could recover enough to call security.


PART II


Delphi Priestess sat relaxed and serene next to Mulder in the front seat of his porsch.

"I didn't know FBI agents made enough money to drive Porsch," she said.

"They don't," Mulder admitted.  "but actors do.  I stole this from that dippy Duchovny guy.  He's got three.  He'll never miss it."

A frown of confusion marred Delphi's otherwise perfect brow.

"But aren't you and Duchovny the same person?" she asked.

"No more than you and Connie are the same," he smiled archly.

"I see your point," Delphi agreed, but the frown stayed in place.

"Where are we going?" she asked gently.

"To my lair," he replied.  "I'm beginning work on a temple of my own first thing in the morning.  I want fountains and statues of me and a chapel and gardens, and meditating doo-dads and, you know, the works.  And you're going to help me build it."

"Never," said Delphi.

"We'll have a cafe.  We'll call it the Planet Mulder.  We'll serve soft drinks and over priced hamburgers and sell Mulder memoribilia.  And there'll be a gift shop and a rec facility!  And we'll have a group of women worshipers called 'Mulder's Menches in Motion!"

Delphi eyed him skeptically.

"Mulder, do you know what a 'mench' is?"

"No, but it rhymes with 'wenches' and that's all I care about."

"And 'in motion'?  What is that, 'in motion'?"

"Well, Skinner's women are 'in waiting', but Mulder's women are 'in motion'.  Moving about, on the move, you know."

"Mulder....."

"And you will be my Priestess, my Oracle.  You'll give the Menches my words and fill them with my wisdom.  We'll change your name to...."

Delphi cringed and shook her head.  "This can't be good," she moaned.

"We'll change it to 'Mulder's Mo-Jo'!"

"No! No!"

"Not 'Mulder's No-No', 'Mulder's MO-JO'!"  he cried happily, a crazed glint lighting his eyes.

Delphi sobbed into her hands and longed for the comfort of her friends.  Soon Mulder sang, "Here we are!"

Delphi lifted her head and looked around. It was worse than she had imagined.  Worse than anyone could have imagined.

"Oh Skinner!", she breathed in horror, "It's.....it's....."

"Connecticut!"  Mulder finished for her.

"Yes, Connecticut," Delphi moaned.  "Your family's summer home in that town nobody can pronounce."

"That's the one!  Mulder said happily.  "Now let's go inside before anyone sees us.  I want you all to myself.  I have so many stories to tell you, so many feelings I want to share with you!"

"Please!"  Delphi begged, holding his shoulders and gazing into his eyes, "couldn't you just shoot me instead?"

Mulder thought a second, then said, "No.  Sorry.  There are days and days of Samantha angst alone.  We'd better get started."

"Nooooo!"  Delphi wailed, pushing him back toward the car, "you have a gun, I KNOW you have a gun, I SAW your gun, now get the damned thing out here and blow my brains out!  I order you to blow my effing brains out!!!!"

"Nope.  Sorry, Delphi, no can do.  If we hurry we can get up to my third birthday by bedtime."

In the end Mulder was forced to tie Delphi into a chair.  And by the time he was finished with this third birthday, her eyes were glazed over and her ears were bleeding, and if you didn't know better you have thought he'd taken the merciful path and shot her in the head after all.

TO BE CONTINUED(I'M BAAAAAA-AAAAACK)

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