Title: "Break Stuff"
Author: Jill (or JillyBee :-)
E-mail: MoonAngel07@aol.com
Rating: Umm, possibly PG-13, for language
Spoilers: None! This came straight from my head!
Short Summary: Through the "wisdom" of a new friend, Mulder goes into "survivalist" mode after unexpected bad news.
Note: This is my second Fox and Rat fic....enjoy!

A lone rumble of thunder roared outside Fox Mulder's open bedroom window, slowly awakening him. Sitting up in bed, Mulder yawned, scratching his stomach over Rocky and Bullwinkle pajamas. Turning toward the sound of more thunder and heavy rain at the window, he immediately moaned, "Oh, no!"

Alex Dana Melvin Ringo John Marita Kristi, the pet cactus he purchased only the day before, lay upside down on the floor, surrounded by shattered pieces of its clay pot.

Staring at the celing, Mulder howled, "Why?! My baby!"

Grief over the "demise" of his new pet was only temporary, after a quick glance at the red numbers of his digital clock....which read 10:13am!

"I'm late!" Mulder yelped, throwing on his work shirt, jacket, and tie as quickly as possible (for him, anyway). He raced out the door, grabbing his cellphone on the way out, without noticing his brightly colored pajama pants and bare feet.

Traveling the usual route to leave his building, Mulder stopped on the sidewalk to make a *very* important phone call. Just as he hit "speed dial", a "surprise" landed on his right shoulder.

"Oh, shit!" Mulder hollered, irritated at the gooey mess of bird "doo doo" dripping down his clean jacket.

While everyone around him gave Mulder a dirty look for his "potty mouth", a jogger, trying to hide her laughter, smiled. "Don't worry....it's supposed to be good luck."

"Hah, hah....yeah," Mulder fake smiled, as she took off down the street.

Sighing, Mulder continued his journey without even noticing the *very important person* at the other end of the phone.

"Hello?!" an annoyed young woman with a New York accent bellowed, as Mulder finally answered his phone.

"I'm so sorry, Cleo," he weakly laughed, "It's just one of those days...."

"....When you don't wanna wake up?" Cleo sang in response.

"Funny," he replied dryly, entering the subway terminal.

"So, you want the usual "special"?" Cleo answered, bored.

"Definitely," Mulder boarded the subway too quickly, tripping over passengers getting off. He tried to grab a woman's leg to catch his fall, but instead, she slapped him hard in the face.

"Pig!" the irate woman stepped on Mulder's back as she left, causing his phone to disconnect.

"Damn it!" Mulder responded louder than he should have, as he collected himself. Finding an empty seat, and ignoring a nearby mother putting her hands over her child's ears, the worn out Mulder hit "redial".

"We're sorry, but "Mind, Body, Spirit" psychic hotline is temporarily unreachable. Regular members will be notified when the service is up again. Thank you," a computerized woman's voice informed Mulder.

"No way," he gritted his teeth, as the subway came to a halt at his stop.

"It can only get better," Mulder reassured himself, until he noticed vomit mixed with bits of coleslaw on his chair and pajama pants.

"This is *your* fault!" Mulder exclaimed angrily, pointing at the child from before, who hid behind his mother, bursting into tears.

"Or Krycek's...." he pondered, racing out of the subway terminal, and into FBI Headquarters.

A few minutes later, amazed that he got past security okay, a calmer Mulder stepped into the crowded elevator with neatly dressed agents.

"What are *you* looking at?!" he scoffed at the agents' stares, obviously oblivious to the dried bird "doo doo" on his jacket and vomit on his pants, as the agents tried to distance themselves from him.

"Odd bunch of apples," Mulder murmured, getting off the elevator on the floor of Assistant Director Walter Skinner's office. He already had one foot in the doorway of the front office, until voices from inside froze him in his tracks.

"Where the hell is Mulder, anyway?!" Skinner's gruff voice drifted outside.

"I don't know," Dana Scully replied, confused and annoyed, "He wouldn't tell *me*, anyway."

"What about you? You're his roomie," Skinner asked.

"Sorry, no clue," Alex Krycek answered, shuddering at the word "roomie", "I haven't seen Mulder since yesterday....I think he was visiting those misfit friends of his."

"Whatever happened, even if he got "abducted" by *aliens* again," Assistant Director Kersh rolled his eyes, responding harshly, "....This kind of behavior from a federal agent *cannot* be tolerated! As of this moment....Special Agent Fox Mulder will be suspended!"

Outside, Mulder gasped in utter shock, "Nooo!"

"For how long?" Skinner questioned curiously.

"One day....If he shows up tomorrow....I'll forget about this," Kersh sighed, "Why am I so gentle with him?!"

Unfortunately, Mulder did not hear the last part of the conversation.

Dejected, he slowly stepped into the elevator. "It's all over," he shook his head sadly, not caring if anyone saw him talking to himself. "What about my fish?" Mulder began to sob, "My magazine subscriptions....aliens, Krycek, my phone debts to "Mind, Body, Spirit"!" he moaned, looking around the empty elevator for comfort through tear blurred eyes.

Suddenly, the ring of his cellphone broke Mulder's devastation. "Kersh?!" he answered eagerly, trying to hide the fact that he had been crying.

"Noooo," Cleo sighed, snapping her gum, ""Mind, Body, Spirit" is up again....You're a regular member, soooo...."

"Oh," Mulder replied, disappointed.

"Ugh, I was just trying to be nice!" she snapped, "Do you want your usual special, or not?!"

"Yes, especially now!" Mulder exclaimed, finally getting off the elevator, which had stopped minutes before. "Will I get my job back?!" he continued excitedly, walking in the direction of his apartment through pouring rain, without an umbrella.

"Umm...." Cleo spoke slowly in her sunny New York City office, shaking a Magic 8 Ball while spinning in her computer chair.

"Yes?!" Mulder shouted, narrowly missing cars as he walked past a "Don't Walk" sign.

"No," she answered, bored as usual, "You should start practicing living in a cardboard box, 'cause it's all you'll have soon."

"Oh," Mulder sighed, more hurt than ever, "Have a good day, Cleo."

After he hung up, Cleo sighed, whispering, "I feel sooo bad....I *hate* my job!" until the reciept from Mulder's $4.95 a minute call printed out. "Nooo....I changed my mind!" the teenage girl smirked, leaning back in her chair.

Meanwhile, Mulder kicked a stone along the sidewalk, until spotting a cardboard refrigerator box in front of an electronics store.

"Hmm, that box is big enough for a person," he mused, studying it, "It's my new home!"

Dragging the heavy box another few blocks, he stopped upon arrival at his apartment building, placing the box near the curb outside.

"Home," he whispered, stepping backward, "But, not yet."

Staring at people walking by, he finally grabbed the thick arm of an obese man. "Here, watch my house!" Mulder exclaimed, handing him fifty cents in nickels before dashing inside.

"Cheap ass," the man remarked once Mulder was gone, groaning at the small amount of money.

Inside Apartment 42, Mulder frantically scanned the interior, grabbing items and dropping them into his David Sunflower Seeds duffel bag. Hoisting the bag over one shoulder, he unplugged his fish tank, taking it with him.

"I would never abandon my babies," he cooed to the fish.

Back outside, the "house sitter" disappeared....along with the rain. "Whatever," Mulder shrugged, "unpacking".

Within ten minutes, the large box became as cozy as he could make it. "Okay....My inflatable alien, Scully Jr.," Mulder nodded to the toy, "Adult magazines, fish....injured Alex Dana Melvin Ringo John Marita Kristi...." He soon smiled, "Everything is here....even...."

Pausing to sit in front of the crowded box, he plunged his arm into the garbage bag he also brought. "....My guitar!" he exclaimed.

"This will be my *new* job," Mulder smiled again, plopping the mug he had bought Krycek for his birthday, which read "Alex is my buddy" in front of him, for passerbys to drop change into.

Strumming a few off key notes on the guitar, Mulder began to sing, "It's just one of those days, when you don't wanna wake up. Everything is fucked up, everybody sucks...."

Pausing midsong, Mulder remarked, "Hey, I sound like Fred Durst!"

However, the proud "musician" failed to notice passerbys' dirty looks and rude comments.

"If you don't shut up, I'll find something to break!" a man leaned out of a window from Mulder's building, shaking his fist.

Mulder ignored that comment, but not the following one.

"Mulder?!" Krycek leaned out of the fourth floor window, "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Krycek!!!" he shrieked like a child to its big brother, holding the mug in the air, "Please contribute to my "Save the Mulders" fund!"

Rolling his eyes, Krycek responded, "I'll be right down....stay!"

"I'm not a dog," Mulder sighed, hurt.

A few minutes later, after a failed attempt at chasing an ice cream truck, Mulder heard a knock at his "door".

"Foxy boy?" Krycek called, "What's wrong?"

Frowning, Mulder opened the flap of his box to let Krycek inside.

"Woah, what happened there?" Krycek scrunched his legs closer to his chest on the ground next to Mulder, gesturing toward the limp cactus.

"That's Alex Dana Melvin Ringo John Marita Kristi," Mulder spoke sadly, wincing after the cactus "bit" his finger.

"Kristi?" Krycek asked, puzzled.

"She's an old girlfriend," Mulder replied quickly, "I don't wanna talk about it....Krycek, let's get to the point."

"Right," he murmured in response, "This is about your job...."

"How did you know?!" Mulder exclaimed, amazed.

"I'm psychic," Krycek rolled his eyes sarcastically, "You're only suspended for one day, so what gives?"

Awestruck at the wonderful news, Mulder tried not to let it show that he didn't already know, "I know....this is raising money for charity."

"Sure," Krycek smirked, then patted his friend on the back, "You know....I would never let you live this way."

"You're....the best buddy and roomie ever!" a dumbfounded Mulder shrieked, embracing Krycek.

"Whatever, just bring your stuff inside....before I break *you*." Krycek pushed him away, leaving the box, and heading inside, while dialing his cellphone.

"Oh my God!" he suddenly burst into laughter into the phone, "I can't believe that worked on *poor* Mulder, and I managed to get everyone involved at work!"

"I told ya!" Cleo declared triumphantly, "Mulder is sooo easy! Wait 'till the next time he doesn't pay his bill to us!"