Author: Folieadeux
Rating: None
Category: Vignette, Humor, Challenge
Spoilers: None
Distribution: Sure, as long as the headers stay intact. Please
let me know so I can visit.
Feedback: Hell yeah.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Too bad. No money made.
Summary: Jet plane weirdness.
Not beta'd - sorry for any mistakes. Love feedback in the form of
beta, btw.
Author's notes at the end.

xXx


"I hate coach." Mulder muttered under his breath as he stretched
his arms above him, laying his palms flat against the console.
"It's tall person torture." Arching his spine as far forward as
he could, the unmistakable popping of vertebra could be heard.

"It's not so bad." Scully replied, as she sat primly in the
window seat, feet barely touching the floor.

Wiggling in his seat Mulder tugged the fabric at his knees hoping
to relieve the uncomfortable bunching at his crotch. "Maybe next
time you could ride in the overhead compartment?"

"Very funny."

"Excuse me, sir. Did you need something?"

Momentarily pausing their bored bickering both agents turned to
the flight attendant - confusion flickering across their faces.

The woman smiled warmly at Mulder as she used her index finger to
point to the flashing light above his head. "You rang the call
bell, do you need anything?"

Pivoting his head upward Mulder watched the flashing light
above his head. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize I'd pressed the
button." He chewed self-consciously on his lower lip.

"That's all right." She leaned down in the aisle in order to
level her gaze at him. "Since I'm here already, is there anything
I can do for you?"

She smiled warmly at Mulder and he could smell her minty breath.
Looking over his shoulder at Scully, Mulder bugged his eyes out.
"You need anything?"

Leaning over her partner towards the aisle, Scully placed her
small hand on Mulder's knee, "Yes, thank you. May I have a 7-up
with a glass of ice?"

"Certainly. I'll be right back." The attendant straightened,
flashed Scully a too bright smile, and made her way to the back
of the plane.

Folding his arms across his chest Mulder relaxed into his seat, a
bemused expression on his face. "That was mean."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you ready to
play?" Scully looked at him blankly, a tablet of paper on her lap
and a pencil in her hand.

Keeping his arms folded Mulder rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.
"A."

Scully drew a head on his figure.

Scrutinizing the dashes Mulder continued, "E."

Scully placed an E on one of the dashes.

Pursing his lips, Mulder contemplated his next move. "I."

"Why don't you just say all the vowels and stop pretending you're
not going to say them?"

"Listen, my method is scientifically sound. Now quit trying to
distract me."

Scully filled in two blanks with the letter I.

"Ha! Told you."

"Good afternoon everyone, this is your captain speaking.
I hope you're enjoying the flight. As usual, I'm exactly on
schedule and we should be arriving in Seattle on time. If you fly
with us often you may already know that I have the best record
for on time arrivals in the fleet. If you didn't, well, now you
do."

No one spoke waiting for the voice to continue.

"What's he waiting for, applause?" Mulder snorted.

"That's okay people, feel free to applaud."

A smattering of claps could be heard throughout the cabin.

"Thank you."

Scully placed both hands over her mouth to conceal her burst of
laughter.

"Is he kidding?" Mulder mouthed, his brows knitted in disbelief.

"The flight crew will now be handing out a small pamphlet
outlining my career, just to let you know about my education and
experience. I find people are often curious about airline pilots
and I want you to feel comfortable and safe while you are flying
with us here at Heart Air."

By now Scully was folded over in her seat pressing her face to
her knees in an effort to control her laughter. Open-mouthed,
Mulder watched in astonishment as the flight crew began to hand
out small rectangular pieces of paper, the captain's head shot
could be seen at the top.

"No way." Mulder glanced over at Scully who was trying valiantly
to regain her composure and failing miserably. The look on
Mulder's face sent her into another fit of laughter and she
turned to look out the window in an effort to save herself.

"Would you like a handout?" A male flight attendant motioned
towards Mulder with the paper in his hand.

"Definitely. And one for her as well." Mulder motioned to Scully
who was staring intently out her window.

While Mulder was looking over his pamphlet the previous flight
attendant arrived with Scully's soda and plastic cup of ice.

"Excuse me ma'am. Here's your drink."

Finally turning away from the window Scully reached for her
beverage and cup. Her face was red and her eyes were bright with
tears of laughter.

"Thank you."

The flight attendant gave her a confused once over before
deciding she didn't really care and returned to her duties.

Mulder shifted his attention from the pamphlet to his partner.
His face reflecting a certain softness that was apt to overtake
him at displays of light heartedness on her part. "You okay?"

Scully took a long drink of her soda and let out a rush of breath
as it burned her throat. "Yes. I'm fine now. Thank god he stopped
though."

"Your face is all red."

"Don't talk about it or it won't go away."

"I don't think I want it to go away."

She pivoted in her seat in order to face him a bit more. Only a
few blotches remained at her throat. Laying her head against her
seat back she looked thoughtful for a moment.

Mulder mirrored her movement trying to pivot himself a little
more towards her direction. Leaning his head sideways he rested
against his seat back as well. "What?"

"I was just wondering how many hours we've logged together in
airports and airplanes. It must be an incredible number by now."

Mulder watched her face carefully for a moment, her expression
was clear.

"Not as many as Merhan Karimi Nasseri."

"Who?"

"Merhan Karimi Nasseri, he's lived in the Charles de Gaulle
airport since 1988."

"What?!"

"It's true."

Scully eyed him suspiciously but in the end, she gave in.
"Okay, lets here it."

Eyes smiling, he began his tale, "After being kicked out of Iran
for being a political dissident he tried to gain refugee status
from just about every European country without success. Finally,
the UN High Commission in Belgium offered him refugee status. He
only had to choose which European country he wanted to live in.
His mother had been British so he chose the UK. Unfortunately,
the briefcase containing his UN diplomatic papers was stolen on a
train in Paris."

"What happened?"

"He decided to board a plane for England anyway. But when the
authorities at Heathrow discovered he had no papers, they made
him go back to Paris. Then the French police arrested him for
illegal entry, but because he had no diplomatic papers, there was
no country to deport him to.

"Didn't anyone try and help him?"

"Uh huh. A human rights lawyer finally got the French courts to
agree that he had not entered the airport illegally, so he
couldn't be thrown out of it. But, the courts couldn't force
France to grant him citizenship. In fact, French authorities
refused to give Nasseri either a refugee or transit visa."

"That's insane. So he's just been sitting there?"

"His lawyer decided to appeal to Belgium, hoping they would
resend his papers to him, but Belgian refugee officials refused
to mail them to him in France. They argued that Nasseri had to
present himself in person so that they could be sure he was the
same man they had granted political asylum years before."

"Good Lord."

"So, Belgium said he had to show up in person to claim copies of
the stolen documents, but he's not allowed entry to the country.
Come to find out there's some sort of whacko Belgium law that
says once you've voluntarily left a country that has given you
refugee status, you can't go back."

"So he's still there?"

"Uh huh. Although in 1999 he was finally issued a travel card and
a French residency permit which would enable him to leave the
airport. But he refuses to sign them."

"Why not?"

"They listed his nationality as Iranian, and he wants the papers
to say he's British. So he refuses to sign and sits in the
Charles de Gaulle airport to this day."

"That's insane."

"Actually, that's exactly what it is. After all the years of
sitting in the airport, he's lost touch with reality. They say he
sits quietly with tattered suitcases at the same table in the
same spot and reads book after book. A man who time has
altogether passed by."

Scully stared at Mulder, wide eyed with concern. "You're not
lying to me are you?"

"No, I swear it. It's a true story." Mulder brought his hand up
giving her the Boy Scout salute.

Scully sat musing over the latest bizarre tale told to her by Fox
Mulder. Trying to figure out how sad she should let it make her
feel. Finally she couldn't take it anymore, "Mulder, that's such
a sad story."

"But doesn't it make you feel a little better about the amount of
time we spend in airports?"

"No!" She straightened herself in her chair and then leaned back
into her seat. "That's just awful."

Trying not to laugh, Mulder reached his hand out to rest it on
her arm. "I'm sorry, Scully. I didn't mean to depress you.
Really, I'm sorry if you didn't like my story."

"I didn't."

"Fair enough. O."

Turning her face to him she looked a little confused. Finally her
expression cleared and she reached down and retrieved the tablet
and pencil she had dropped during her earlier laughing fit. She
drew a line for the doomed figure's body. "I knew you would do
all the vowels."

"S." He replied smugly.

Smiling, she filled in a dash with his S.

"B."

A leg appeared.

"N."

A second leg appeared.

"This isn't one of those ridiculously unfair science words is
it?" Mulder scowled at her.

"No more ridiculous then FROWZY, thank you very much."

"Hey, that's a legitimate word; can I help it if it had only one
vowel?"

"You spend nights just scanning the dictionary for words like
that, don't you?"

"Are you implying that I have no life?"

Scully placed her hand on her chest in a mock expression of
surprise. "Would I do that?"

"M."

Scully gave him a letter on the first dash.

"Yes!" Mulder exclaimed with exaggerated glee. "Y."

Scully filled in the second dash and began to look worried.

"R."

The figure grew an arm. "Only one more guess, Mulder, and
you're toast."

"Can't we do shoes this time?"

"You know the rules, no shoes."

"Were you this mean to your brothers?"

"Come on, quit stalling."

Taking a moment to reflect on the dashes Mulder finally said.
"T."

Scully filled in the fourth dash.

"Mysti...mysti.." He tapped his index finger against his bottom
lip deep in concentration. "Mysti mysti bo bisti, banana fanna fo
fisti.."

Laughing, Scully asked, "Is that your final answer?"

"Crap." He placed his fingers against his eyes and tried to see
the word in his head. It was useless, he had no idea. Taking a
stab at it he said, "F."

Scully subjected Mulder's figure to the final throws of death.
Turning her head to him she gave him her best 'you lose' leer.

"So what the hell was it?"

Filling in the blanks Scully revealed M-Y-S-T-I-C-E-T-I. "It's a
toothless whale."

Looking at her blankly for a few moments, Mulder finally
straightened in his chair and began organizing his area for
decent. Standing up in the aisle he opened the overhead
compartment a pulled out his travel bag.

"Mulder?"

Continuing to ignore her he began placing various paperwork from
the seat pocket into his carry-on.

"Mulder, you're being a sore loser."

"A toothless whale!"

For the second time during their flight the look on Mulder's face
sent Scully into a fit of laughter.


THE END

Author's Notes: Written for the Haven's March 03 "Tell Us A
Story" challenge. Elements: Tell a story (myth, fairy tale, urban
legend etc), a heart, a muse (I cheated a bit here but I could
NOT figure this part out), torture, a whale, someone getting or
being organized, hubris. I struggled with this little SOB till
the very end so it wasn't beta'd - sorry if there's any mistakes.

Want to check out his story for real? Go here:
http://www.snopes.com/travel/airline/airport.htm