TITLE: Clap On
AUTHOR: D.W. Chong firstname.lastname@example.org
ARCHIVE: If you want to, feel free, just let me know
WHY: Because the author is anal, and upon charting the many reasons Krycek Lives!, she found a category that hadn't been plumbed (for good reason!) Therefore be forewarned.
by D. W. Chong
Peter Pan and Tinkerbell were flying over the Mid-Atlantic coast of North America looking for lost boys when the little fairy's light suddenly sputtered. She clutched her mid-section and tumbled down the sky.
Peter, no slouch in the rescue and stunt flying department, took a moment to reflect: "Wha--? Tink!" and dove after her. He caught her in his palm and hovered in the air to check her out. "Tink! What's wrong?"
Tinkerbell, who was too small for regular-sized ears to hear, tinkled her distress to Peter, who was instantly sympathetic.
"You did? Can you tell where he is?"
"Well, then! What're we waiting for! Lead on!"
Tink pointed her wand in the direction she sensed her distress, and the pair swooped down into a parking garage in Washington, D.C. A quick fly-by located a lone figure, laid out on the concrete floor. He was dressed all in black, and had a most unsettling hole in the middle of his forehead.
Peter landed beside the figure, bent to check his vitals, and jumped up. "He's still alive, Tink, but he's fading fast!"
Tinkerbell, having recovered from the shock of feeling the downed figure's assault, hopped out of Peter's hand to hover by the figure's face. She clapped her hands desperately.
Peter, breaking the `fourth wall,' looked directly at the audience. "Please, boys and girls, we can save him if you just believe! Come on! Everybody! Clap your hands! If you *all* clap your hands as hard as you can, and tell him you believe, he'll get better!"
Peter, following his own prompting, began clapping his hands loudly. Then he turned to look down at the fallen figure. "Clap harder! Keep clapping!"
Tinkerbell's light began to grow, encompassing all of the figure's head. She tinked loudly to Peter.
"What's that, Tink? It's working? Hurrah!" Peter turned back to exhort the audience at home. "Come on people! Clap! Tell him you believe!"
"Freeze! Walter Skinner, F.B.I.! Who are you, how did you get in here, and what the Hell do you think you're doing?" The new figure impinged on the scene, weapon at the ready.
Peter gulped. He stopped clapping, but set his arms akimbo in defiance. "I'm Peter Pan!" He tilted up his head and crowed like a rooster. "Ert-er-er! And that's Tinkerbell. And we flew in here to help *him!*" he pointed at the downed figure.
"By clapping?" Walter asked dryly.
"Well *of course* by clapping!" and, at Walter's dismissive look, he added: "It saved Tinkerbell's life, once. Do *you* believe?"
"I --I *want* to believe," Walter stammered.
"Then clap your hands!" Peter urged, resuming his own efforts.
Walter stared down at his felled foe and shook his head. "I haven't any right to clap for him. I'm the one who shot him in the first place. I- I just came back to dispose of his body."
"Then it's even *more* important for you to clap your hands. The magic is *sure* to be stronger if *you* want him back. You *do* want him back, don't you?"
Walter pooched out his lips and thought about it. "...Damnit to Hell! Yes! Yes, I *do* want him back!" Walter started to clap fiercely.
Tinkerbell's light grew stronger and brighter. The hole in Krycek's forehead began to close up.
"Now, tell him you believe!" Peter exhorted.
"I believe!" Walter shouted with all his being.
Krycek began to moan. All trace of the wound had disappeared. Finally, he sat up, holding his head as if he had the mother of all hang-overs.
"That's done it! Oh, thank you! Thank you everybody! Especially you, Walter!"
Krycek stood up. "Whoa! I *knew* there was a reason I kept insisting I was gay!"
"Krycek! You really *are* alive!" Walter exclaimed. "But, I don't understand....how?"
Krycek smirked. "Hey, they don't call gays `fairies' for nothing."
"Yeah, Walter! *Everybody* knows you can save a fairy's life if you clap your hands and tell them: `I *do* believe! I *do* believe! I *do* believe in fairies!'" Peter interjected.
"I don't believe it!" Walter marveled.
Krycek's eyes widened. His knees began to wobble. He clutched at his chest and slumped towards the ground.
Walter yelped and caught Alex before he could hit the concrete. "No! Alex! I *do* believe! Don't leave me! I didn't mean it that way! That is, what I meant to say is: if I'd known that was true, I'd have had Mulder clap for *me* when you killed me with those nanocytes."
"What? Clap for you?" Krycek echoed stupidly. "But --it only works for- you're *not!*"
Walter dipped Krycek and planted a wet one on his kisser. "I most certainly am."
"I do declare!" Krycek said as he batted his eyes and smiled up at the A.D dreamily.
Walter flushed and set Krycek back on his feet."Please tell me you're all right."
"Hah! Not only am I all right, for the first time in my life I'm happy I got `the clap.'"
"What happens now?" Walter wondered.
"Hmm....That all depends. Tinkerbell?" Krycek inquired, "do you think you could knock out the surveillance system, taking care to erase the last, oh, say, half hour's worth of videotape from the control room's machines?"
Tinkerbell tinked, flew up to the nearest surveillance monitor, and struck it with her wand. She then flew back to Peter with a `that's that' wipe of her hands.
"Wow!You're the best, Tink! Thanks!" Krycek said graciously, "but we'd better get out of here before the system comes back on-line." Krycek smirked. "One more X-file for Mulder."
"But, where will you go, what will you do?" Walter asked as the quartet headed for the exit.
"Oh, I dunno. I've always fancied playing with the `lost boys,'" Krycek speculated.
Walter pouted. "What about playing with me? *I'd* be lost without *you.*"
Krycek leered. "I was hoping you'd say something like that." He linked his good arm with Walter's and walked out of the parking garage, into a mysteriously convenient bank of fog. "Walter, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!"
Archived: December 29, 2001