AUTHOR: Kiki Cabou

FEEDBACK: Loverly. R/R or give me something to read with delight at kcabou@hotmail.com.

DISCLAIMER: Any characters you recognize are not mine. New people are my creations. "The X-files" is not mine. I'm just messing with it. It's fun!

ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just let me know.

SUMMARY: Scully's in a tie. Doggett's in a skirt. Reyes is wearing a suit, and Mulder is wearing some big-ass heels. Has everyone at the Bureau lost their minds? No, it's just sensitivity training at the FBI --- Role Reversal Day.

NOTES: This takes place in a strange version of Season Nine where everyone is working at the FBI together. I'm pretending Mulder wasn't fired, Scully wasn't pregnant, and now they, as well as Doggett and Reyes, are co- existing peacefully on the X-files project.

SPOILERS: S8 and 9, generally. Specifically? Um, Pusher, just to know who Holly is. Avatar (Sharon has reconciled with Skinner. They are still married). Fallen Angel, but only because you need to know about Agent Pendrell.

DEDICATION: To all the wonderful folks who have so graciously and kindly reviewed my other stuff on FF.net and elsewhere, and particularly to my awesome friend Traci, who wanted to see some more of "Fox and Friends." She read most of this piece through before I put it up.

CATEGORY: Story/Humor/Romance/DRR/MSR/SkinnerSharonR

SOME POINTLESS CRAP: Thanks to J.C. Penny's, the Men's Wearhouse, and Payless Shoesource for providing some of the characters' wardrobes. Thanks also to all the cereals and musicians mentioned. You are real stores and products and people, and I'm giving you free advertising, so don't fine me.

RATING: I'll go with PG-13. There's cursing, lewd behavior, bawdy jokes, some violence, a teeny bit of bloodshed, and general nuttiness. Something for everybody. :D

On we go.

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Chapter One: "The E-mail From Hell."

It all started with a memo.

Doggett arrived at the basement office a few minutes after Mulder did on Thursday morning, at the lovely hour of 7:15 a.m. Mulder was sitting at his computer in the newly-widened X-files office. Since the project now had four agents, they had destroyed the wall separating the old office from a storage room next door and cleaned everything out, to make room for four desks. Mulder was at his station, watching the PC boot up and slurping his coffee, his eyes hardly open. Doggett was barely awake too, but they managed to wave amicably at each other.

Doggett crossed the room, sat down with a grunt, and turned his computer on, too. He looked over at Mulder.

"Mornin'," Doggett said.

"Hi," was the reply. "Hey, can I ask you something?"


"Okay. Don't take this the wrong way, but getting to the office at the crack of dawn is *my* job. What are *you* doing here?"

"'As a good question," he said, yawning. "I have paperwork to finish for Monica. We just finished a case, got a report due in two hours, and she's beat. She'll be in at nine."

Mulder smirked at Doggett and shook his head. "Oh, you poor bastard. You're really in trouble now. First she'll get you to do her paperwork, then pretty soon she'll have you vacuuming her floor and making her tea. Whpsssh!" he finished, and cracked an imaginary whip at Doggett.

"Oh, you mean, like, what Agent Scully has you doing the minute you get home?"

Mulder glared at him. Doggett smirked, took a long sip of coffee, put down the cup, and looked at the disheveled man across from him with his flinty blue eyes for a long moment. Then he made up his mind.

"I'm not whipped, Mulder. And you know what else? I won't do the damn paperwork. I don't feel like it. Instead . . ." He clicked the mouse a few times. "I'm going to check my e-mail."

"Go, girl," Mulder replied, deadpan, and took a sip of his own brew.

Uninterested in his own work and ignoring the Yahtzee game he'd minimized, he watched Doggett's face as the other man checked his messages, giving the screen a blank, bored stare for a few minutes, until his brow creased and he clicked the mouse. Then his expression gradually changed from interested to confused to pale and shocked. He turned to Mulder.

"Hey, Mulder? Check your e-mail."

"What for?"

"Just do it."

Mulder did. And he saw the memo.

"To all employees of the Federal Bureau of Investigation working at H.Q. in Wash. D.C.: Mandatory Sensitivity Training, effective building-wide for the entire work day tomorrow. Those who do not comply with these instructions will not be allowed in to work," he read aloud.

He read the rest of it silently, his mellow, sleepy eyes widening and the blood draining from his face until he looked just as bad as Doggett. Then, in typical Mulder fashion, he started to rant.

"Role Reversal Day? Dress up like women? 'Switch jobs with the woman closest to you.' What the heck does that mean? Man, Scully and Reyes are gonna go nuts over this." He snorted. "They'll probably order us around all day or slap our asses or something. 'It'll make us better people.' Bull, Shit. The only thing that seems to make me a better person is coffee in the morning."

"No kidding," Doggett said. "Drink some. Quick."

Mulder gulped some more down. "What do you want to bet that this is just some bad joke that someone's playing on our division?"

"And what if it isn't, Agent Paranoid? Then what?"

He sighed. "Well, if this is real, you know what the worst part is?"

Doggett looked up at him, lost for words, and shook his head. Mulder threw his hands up in disgust.

"I have nothing to wear!"


It turned out that everyone, not just the X-files division, had gotten the memo. There had been shrieks, gasps, and a few panic attacks, but by 3, everyone had settled down. Sort of. Because the fact was, this needed to happen.

There was a strong tradition in the Federal Bureau of Investigation that it was comprised of strong officers. Being a modern agency, the employees were supposed to be not so much "men" or "women," but simply people. This was a nice idea. It was also a bit of wishful thinking, because, as in any male-oriented profession, there were those in the bureau who considered women to be "intruders" of sorts --- a necessary evil.

Sexual harassment suits in the private sector and even a few in the federal field had clamped down on most of the ass-slapping and "hey honey"ing of the past few decades, and granted, women were making advances (at least three of the A.D.'s in the Hoover building were female). But a lot of the secretaries still complained that they were getting "the look" from their bosses and the men still yakked about "measurements" in the bathroom or around the water cooler.

Women (particularly female agents) were not encouraged to be feminine. Female "emotions" were signs of weakness. Whether a woman had just been through a bad day or had her period or had spilled coffee on herself on the way to work was irrelevant. She had to conduct herself like she was unbreakable.

Men too, had their own burdens to bear --- there was a certain "tough guy" image associated with the Bureau, and whether a man was a lab tech or a full agent or a security guard, there were expectations. That he could control his emotions. That he could control his life. And women were a part of his life.

So needless to say, there was a lot of tension between the men and women of the Hoover building. The men, on reading the memo, were creeped out. The women, particularly the much-abused secretaries, were delighted. Tomorrow would be a day of vengeance. An uprising.


The women of the X-files had seen the memo that morning. Scully and Reyes were not very interested in participating, and kept hoping that there would be some cases that they would all have to leave on, preventing them from reporting to the Hoover building the next day.

No such luck.

There were no calls and they were all drowning in paperwork, anyway. Except for Mulder. He was playing Yahtzee on his computer. He'd been goofing off all morning, and by one o'clock, Scully was annoyed. She picked up some paper, crumpled it into a ball and threw it at his head. Direct hit. She wasn't a Navy brat for nothing.

"Ow!" he said, and glared at her. "What?"

"Bad boy. Do your work."

Reyes, at her own station, was snickering. She'd just received an amusing e-mail from Doggett, who was sitting across from her. The letter and the irony of not just passing a note struck her as funny, but Mulder assumed she was laughing at him. Not that he wasn't pleased to find that Scully had a friend and confidante in Reyes, but it was a bit much. He had to leave.

He stood up and made an excuse, quickly. "Scully, can you finish the paperwork? I have to go talk to Skinner real quick."

"Why do *I* always get stuck with the paperwork?" she argued. "I'm not doing your homework for you."

"Yes you will," he said.

"I am not, you big bully. Forget it." She crossed her arms.

Mulder found this adorable and couldn't resist her. "Aw, come on. Please?" he asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her.


"Pretty please? With sugar on top?"

Scully sighed, but shook her head again.

"I'll buy you lunch," he offered.


"The restaurant of your choice."


"Thank you."

He was tempted to plant one on her forehead, but settled for a gentle squeeze and slipped out, leaving Scully sitting at her station, still a bit depressed. Doggett and Reyes, who'd just watched the scene, were looking at her, slightly amused. She looked at them both.

"His ass is *so* mine tomorrow."

The other two started laughing and got back to work.


Skinner was being extra nice to Holly today. He'd let her have an hour for lunch, actually given her a few choice smiles, and since she had the reflexes of a sparrow, he tried not to startle her.

Kim, his usual secretary, had been transferred to another department a few months ago. Holly had replaced her. It was quite a step up for the little thing, being the secretary to an A.D. Petite, with wavy hair, a round face, and wide eyes, she was always sweet and sensitive to other people's needs. She'd made the perfect phone operator, until she'd put in the request for a secretarial job and gotten it.

Skinner had drawn her name and groaned, remembering how she'd accidentally beaten the crap out of him during the Pusher case. Of course, his bruises were long gone. But he felt terrible about the way she'd shoveled the guilt on herself, even going to the extent of showing up at his penthouse after work that day with a "care package" of a hot sandwich, iced tea, some Advil, and a quilt. And she'd always been shy around him after that.

She really was a nice kid, though, and he liked her a lot. She was neat, organized and dependable, and unconsciously scored points with him by "moonlighting" for the X-files division, regularly sneaking extra supplies and donuts to the agents in the basement. Between Mulder's pencil-flinging habits, Scully's talent for losing pens, Reyes' knack for misplacing post- it notes, and Doggett's fixation with powdered sugar, she kept very busy. Skinner knew she was just being kind to the four people he'd grown to love and looked the other way on the finance reports.

He was usually nice to her, he felt. Today, though, he was being extra nice simply to save his ass from retaliation tomorrow. (There were rumors of a "shit list" circulating among the secretaries [and some of the female agents] as to who was going to get nailed.) And the part of the memo about cross-dressing sort of bugged him, because his wife, Sharon, was out of town and he had no way of getting his hands on some women's clothes --- that fit. But what really scared him was the part about switching positions with the woman closest to him. Namely, the woman who kept pesky people out of his office and took calls while he ran the show.

How on earth was Holly, of all people, going to do anything properly as an A.D.? He'd never even heard her raise her voice, something he did all the time. Loud noises freaked her out, for heavens' sake. He couldn't even imagine what she would do up against powerful people yelling in her ear through the phone. This was going to be a nightmare for her. He didn't know what to do, except offer his assistance if she was confused as to the Bureau's position on something, and pray she didn't do too much damage.

In the meantime, he decided to handle the other problem. Attire. He buzzed Holly on the intercom.

"Yes, sir?" came her friendly, quiet voice on the other end.

"Holly, can you please send Agents Scully and Reyes up to see me?"

"Yes, sir. Right away."


Scully and Reyes arrived a few minutes later. Skinner ushered them in, and they closed the door behind them. There was a long silence as the A.D. tried to figure out what to say.

"Agents . . . I need some help," he began.

"Of course you can come with us," Reyes interrupted, and smiled.

Skinner blinked at her.

"We're taking Mulder and Agent Doggett to Penny's after work," Scully explained. "We'll be happy to get you set up in something tasteful, sir. After all you've done for us, it would hardly do to have you laughed out of the building."

They both smiled pleasantly at him, and he nodded, slightly amazed that they'd read his mind.

"It was that obvious?" he asked, embarrassed.

Scully and Reyes looked at him, nodded solemnly, then stood up.

"Meet us at the front entrance to the Georgetown Plaza at 5:30, okay?" Scully asked.

Skinner nodded. The two ladies showed themselves out and closed the door behind them. On their way out, they noticed Holly, sitting forlornly at her desk, typing.

"Hey, Holly, what's wrong?" Reyes asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just don't know what I'm going to do for tomorrow is all," Holly said. "I don't have a suit."

"Wait a minute," Scully said. "What about your boyfriend? Doesn't he have a suit you can borrow?"

Holly flushed scarlet and looked down. Most of her friends, including Scully and Reyes, knew she'd been going steady with someone for a long time. They just didn't know who it was, and loved to tease her about it.

"He doesn't wear suits," Holly said.

"Ah ha! A clue!" Reyes exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. "No suit, huh? Well, it has to be someone in the building, since you're keeping it a secret. And he likes to go casual. Either that, or he wears a uniform. Hmm. Don't worry, honey. We'll figure out who he is sooner or later."

Holly giggled softly.

"I'm sure you can get one off a male friend," Scully said, giving her a gentle smile and a wink. "But we'll bring a back-up for you in case it doesn't work. C'mon, Monica. Let's get out of here."



Rhonda Macintyre, Deputy Director Kersh's secretary, had up to that moment been sitting with her feet propped up on her desk, reading and listening to a walkman. She jumped in fright, dropping her magazine and almost swallowing her bubble gum.

"S-S-Sir?" she gasped, and blinked at Kersh, who was standing in the doorway, none too pleased with her.

"Take your headphones off," he growled.

She slipped off her walkman and gave him an embarrassed grin. Rhonda had big green eyes and red curly hair and no interest in getting yelled at, so she decided to head it off with humor.

"Wouldja believe I was listening to 'Ten Ways to Be More Attentive to Your Work?'" she asked, and smiled again. She batted her eyes in a perfectly adorable manner and he rolled his, but seemed to cool off a bit.

He huffed out a sigh, cricked his neck, and asked calmly, "Where are the files on the Anderson case?"

"Oh, they're right here, sir," she said, and fished them out of the desk. "There you go."

"Thank you. Oh, and Rhonda?"


"I understand there's going to be some kind of role playing game tomorrow. Let me just say now, that you are my *temporary* secretary. Since you don't have civil servant status, you can be fired. And you're not getting high marks from me right now."

"Sorry, sir."

"Sorry nothing! I'm warning you. If you screw anything up tomorrow . . . God help you."

With an ugly look, he walked back into his office with the file and slammed the door. Rhonda cringed, then crossed her arms and pouted at her desk.

"Bastard," she muttered.


Most of the women in the Hoover Building had gone out in packs after work, hunting down suits in thrift stores or explaining rental requests to the people at Men's Wearhouse and praying the employees didn't ask too many embarrassing questions.

Scully and Reyes, on the other hand, only had to purchase shoes, because the men in their lives had gallantly offered them their suits. Doggett was only a little taller and broader than Reyes, and Mulder wouldn't have Scully walking into work in anything less than one of his Armanis.

But the guys needed clothes.

So, the entire X-files division met Skinner at the entrance to the Georgetown Plaza at 5:30 and they all went off together. The shoes took the women each a few minutes --- black flats for each. They each bought some super hold gel for slicking their hair back, and then they spent a hellish hour dragging three grumpy men through J.C. Penny's.

Mulder hated department stores on principle, but the purpose of this trip was what really irked him. He was bored, humiliated, and had lost count of how many skirts and jackets were in his hands. He could barely see Doggett and Skinner under the mounds of frilly-looking stuff the other guys were carrying, and then they were all roughly shoved into dressing rooms and told to try things on.

They began, grunting and grumbling, and tried to get into the first outfits. There seemed to be a small cloth tornado happening in the middle stall, where Doggett was.

Finally he yelled, "Goddammit, if I can't figure out how to put it on, then the hell with it!"

He flung a hideous-looking reddish dress thing, or whatever it was, out of the stall, and it landed on Reyes, who was waiting outside. Scully started laughing.

The three men had gotten a lot of funny looks on the way to the changing rooms, and suspected it would get worse when they came out for inspection.

They were not disappointed. After a few rounds of them coming out, a small crowd started gathering. Pretty soon there were makeshift scorecards going up, and loud wolf whistles, and the women had to chase the rabble-rousers away.

The memo's instructions were that everyone at the Bureau was supposed to mimic the opposite sex to the best of their ability --- clothing, make-up (if possible), and proper footwear. The guys were basically clueless about "lady things," as Doggett had put it, and Scully and Reyes mercifully kept them as ignorant as possible through the whole process.

How do you break the news to a man that he has to shave his legs, anyway?

And shoes were going to be hell. After the women were satisfied with the way the men were dressed, from blouses to pantyhose, the guys paid for their outfits. Mulder and Skinner refused to look the cashier in the eye and Doggett looked like a fire hydrant, he was so red. They all piled into Reyes' SUV. The women knew they would have to get creative, considering there was little chance of finding heels for the men at Payless.

"So what now?" Reyes asked Scully, who was riding shotgun.

"Jerry's," she said.

The three guys, smashed together in the back seat with their purchases, shot worried looks at each other.

"Who's Jerry?" Doggett piped up.

"He runs a specialty store near Georgetown," Scully said. "For, um, men who'd like a 'new look.'"

"Oh no," Mulder said, burying his face in his Penny's bag. "I went into this place with Scully once. She thought the enterprise was so hilarious that she ended up buying me some earrings."

"What's so hilarious about it?" Skinner demanded.

"Well, 'Jerry,' as he calls himself, is a physically a woman," Mulder answered. "All of his employees are transvestites. All of his *clientele* are transvestites and drag queens. The place is just drowning in sequins. But Scully knows Jerry, and she's got good taste. And hey --- at least they'll have our shoe size in heels," he finished miserably.

They stopped at a light.

"Wow," Doggett said, and panicked, loud enough for Reyes to hear. "You know, I'm feeling hot. I-I think I have a fever. And my back hurts. I uh, I think it's the flu. I really shouldn't go to work tomorrow, I could seriously infect ---"

Reyes turned to the back seat and growled, "John, shut up."

He did and hung his head like a scolded puppy. Skinner snickered. Mulder picked that moment to make the "whpsssh!" noise again, and Doggett shoved him, knocking him into the window. They drove on.


Jerry's House of Glamour was indeed drowning in sequins, and the three men, looking around while Scully and Reyes went to find Jerry, got curious and met some of the regular clients. It turned out that they were just as curious about the drag queens as the drag queens were about them. When they explained the situation, one queen named Crystal told them in a deep voice that she thought it was a wonderful idea, the FBI promoting tolerance for cross-dressers like that. It took a little more explaining to set her straight, but she still approved of the idea of promoting fairness and sensitivity among the men and women of the bureau.

Scully and Reyes called them to the back, and they met Jerry, who, with his butch haircut and doe eyes, made a very striking man. He was polite, friendly, never strayed from his chest voice, and had them all try on heels for about twenty minutes. Doggett ended up in a pair of beige pumps with a wedge heel, Mulder got a pair of navy blue Mary Janes, also wedge heels, and Skinner got tasteful black heels (open-toe).

It was 7 o'clock when they all arrived back at the parking garage. Scully, ever-practical, told Skinner to drop one of his suits off at her place so she could take it with her the next day, in case Holly hadn't found one. He assured her he would. Reyes was happily preparing to "wear the pants," (i.e. gently teasing all the guys she knew and really sticking it to Brad Follmer), while Doggett, Mulder, and Skinner looked as though they were being led to the gallows. Everyone went their separate ways --- the women chipper, the men miserable.

Tomorrow was going to be insane.


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