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It is late afternoon now. MULDER and SCULLY are lying close together in the bed sheets. They are obviously naked and rumpled from their previous activities. There is a sense of trembling joy, but also peace and rightness.
MULDER
So.
SCULLY (SMILING SOFTLY)
So.
MULDER
The world really didn’t end.
A beat; both Agents are processing what has just taken place: a culmination literally years in the making.
SCULLY (WHISPERS)
The world didn’t end, Mulder. I think it’s just beginning.
MULDER gazes at her for a good few seconds, his expression calm and hopeful. Every bit a man in love. SCULLY leans close and kisses him. CAMERA draws away slowly as they lay close together. All is right with the world.
Challenged myself to write a UH drabble based on this pic:
He’s sitting with his feet perched against the coffee table, a notepad balanced against his thigh. His writing stops periodically as he gazes at her, trying to concentrate on her book.
Finally she snaps her head towards him. “What, Mulder?”
With a secret smile he resumes his scribbling.
She rises, leaning over the back of his chair. “You’re writing a poem about me?”
He flips the notepad over, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “It’s not done yet.”
“But…”
She stares after him as he heads into the kitchen to start dinner.
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naaaah you gotta keep these tags (and write this fic):
#okay but does the fact that the knicks winning that nba#last nba of his normal childhood before sam was taken and his life fell apart#like how much weight does that hold in the fact that the knicks are his fav time#did cc do that because it represents his clinging to a childhood that he lost when sam was taken?????#cc when i catch you#need a fic about this where hes actually very emotionally torn up about knicks winning#he bursts into tears and scully holds him the whole night#because in a way the knicks winning marks this massive passage of time since sam was around#mmmm angst hurt/comfort potential so good
okay I was talking to a myoot about this a few weeks ago. the absolute sisyphean weight that GA is carrying in this scene because. this is? three seconds of film? and she manages to convey that 1. she’s proud and excited to tell him that she has a date, 2. she wants to appear aloof while doing so, 3. she wants to see how he reacts to this knowledge, then immediately 4. she’s a little embarrassed at having felt all those things because they’re flirty and not professional, so 5. she tries immediately to get a handle on herself and return to being Professional Scully.
AO3 Summary: May 1999. A mysterious death brings Scully's faith and personal history to the fore.
My Thoughts: Thank you to @spookysoph for this rec! It's a case fic set in season 7, but the case is very personal to Scully. In addition, Mulder and Scully are navigating a new relationship, while also being around her family. The story has the perfect amount of angst and everything feels realistic for the characters and their relationship at this point. The case felt like a true X-File - very unexplained phenomenon with religious undertones - and definitely could have been a s7 episode! It's one of those fics that when it ends, you want more! It's older, so I'm sure a lot of people haven't read it yet. Go check it out!
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I used to be an online fan on X-Files Usenet in the 1990s, back when there were still vocal noromos everywhere. This might be a hard thing for more recent fans to picture, but people genuinely debated whether (1) there was onscreen evidence for a ship at all (I know); and (2) whether it was a good idea for the show to go that direction. There were also always people taking more nuanced positions (like they shipped M&S but only for the very end of the show, or whatever).
Below, a 90s website (the "Institution for Relationshippers") gives advice on how to handle online attacks from anti-shippers, by which they mean people opposed to the Mulder-Scully ship.
Just in case anyone is new to the fandom and somehow doesn’t know this, this is, of course, where the terms “ship / shipper / shipping” originally came from. It was shorthand used in these early online X-Files debates that then jumped into other fandoms and eventually into mass usage.
Back then—at least in the later 90s when I first entered the conversation—a common anti-shipper argument was that shippers weren't really interested in sci-fi or plot or good writing; they just wanted substance-less, frothy, feel-good entertainment.
I think one thing fans in the thick of it didn't point out enough then (and maybe even now) was that this was often a gendered debate. Although I don't really claim to be an expert, I think this kind of gendered debate is still very much a Thing in other fandoms today (the Star Wars fandom comes to mind).
By "gendered debate" -- in case anyone is unclear -- I don't mean that everyone arguing one position is one gender and everyone arguing the other position is another. This was never the case and never that straightforward. But I do think more shippers tended to identify as women and girls, and more noromos / anti-shippers tended to identify as men and boys. Even more crucially, I think the ways shippers were denigrated often relied upon ideas that media aimed at women and girls was de facto silly, and media aimed at men and boys was more important and substantive.
Note: the below images come from posts on X-Files Usenet— a discussion board with the catchy name of alt.tv.x-files—which was a major fandom spot in the 90s. It looks like email because it was text-based, and also because it is now archived at Google Groups. I think alt.tv.x-files tended to skew more college student / academics / IT types because that is who had easiest access to Usenet in the 90s. There were other popular X-Files discussion sites (e.g. on AmericaOnline / “AOL”) that maybe skewed younger, as the Millennials were still youngsters at home dialing up with AOL on their parents’ computers. But I didn't know very much about those, and alt.tv.x-files is really well archived.
In those days I was a young woman, a people pleaser, and unfortunately not informed by the better sensibilities of today. I fear I often let people make me feel silly and frivolous, embarrassed that I actually wanted them to get together. I did consider myself a sci-fi/fantasy fan and someone who tried to be a serious, critical consumer of media, so I could be convinced that my shipping somehow made me lesser. I think this is an idea that online fandom since has sort of soundly refuted, but it was out there. (It's still out there.)
One of my lingering resentments of CC is that he played into this, and could talk about the "internet fans" and "shippers" in gendered ways. In one interview, he said directly about fans, "[t]here are these 'relationshippers' who kind of dominate the online chats. I’m a little dismayed because I don’t want to do a show about fuzzy warm Mulder and Scully. Never."
Elsewhere, he claimed: "As soon as you have them looking googly-eyed at each other, they’re not going to want to go out and chase these aliens. The relationship will supplant or subvert what’s going to make the show great, which is the pursuit of these cases." In an interview about the cancer arc in 1998, he maintained didn't write "gooily," allowing the characters to fall into one another's arms when they suffered. And tellingly, in 2000 he mentioned that people in the audience "are prone to want things that aren’t necessarily good for them."
The words Carter chooses to describe writing about an onscreen romantic relationship -- "fuzzy," "warm," "googly-eyed," "gooily" -- not only suggest a certain preconception of what a male-female relationship on TV will look like, but also, I would say, paint fan interest in a relationship as soft and unserious. He also clearly thinks it would change the show's genre, working to entirely displace the agents solving cases.
The concern that a relationship would cause the show to morph into a female-oriented genre made its way into the show's writing. In the script to Rain King, after Scully's "flicked switch" speech, the directions say: "This isn't the sort of thing we hear Scully articulate very often, so to remind us that we're watching 'The X-Files' and not a chick flick on Lifetime... [we see the sinks start to overflow]."
The "Mad About You" reference in season 8 to me always seemed like a direct reference to the writers' fear of the show becoming a light relationship comedy, too.
I would argue there is some irony to the anti-shipper argument that the show not be a soap opera. While trying to avoid a canonical ship while still perpetually teasing one, CC became rather addicted to using soap tropes (love triangles, who's-the-daddy, coming back from the dead).
And it wasn't until later that I really understood how inane this idea was at the core -- that you had to choose between being a sci-fi/fantasy fan and being interested in seeing romance/relationships. That it would have been impossible to have maintained a show about agents solving cases and resolved the ship onscreen. Of course there's nothing inherently frivolous or un-serious about being interested in love or relationships or sex as a subject matter; great literature has been written on the subject. It would hardly have cheapened the show to have addressed it, and while it was CC's decision to make, it was wrong to suggest that people who were more personally invested in the show's main ship than in the plot intricacies of alien bounty hunters were somehow intellectually lacking.
Whatever else the show was about, it certainly was about the relationship between Mulder and Scully. If many fans were interested in seeing shades and hues of that relationship, in seeing it unfold and develop, it wasn't something coming out of left field. It was baked into the entire premise from the Pilot on. People who watched the show from the beginning identified the possibility of a "romantic angle" instantly. Like, right away. (See a 1993 review of the Pilot in the San Francisco Examiner below.)
And I know some people argue CC always intended for MSR to happen, for Mulder and Scully to be a romantic ship, despite his many 90s (and more recent) denials of this intention. That what he said doesn't always match what he did in his storytelling. @Randomfoggytiger has argued rather convincingly that part of this is that he just literally does not use the word "platonic" the way most of us do; he means they might have attractions but are not acting on them. These kinds of explanations frankly just make his attitude towards fans asking about it even more galling.
To take this discussion into further speculation that takes me to the margins of my knowledge and is going to involve comparisons to other shows: my darling child is very opinionated on media (she and I are kind of a lot together) and has participated in the Sherlock, Supernatural and 911 fandoms to some extent. Thus the word “queerbaiting” comes up a lot in her vocabulary, meaning when a creator deliberately teases a queer ship to keep hardcore fans invested, but then doesn’t follow through. Sherlock and Supernatural are famous for queerbaiting, and 911 might be in the process of doing it (signs uncertain).
I mean, Supernatural did really do some wild shit (see below). If you never watched the show and weren't on Tumblr at that time, I'm sure you've still seen the meme. But it was some truly outrageous queerbaiting.
The “baiting” that happened with MSR and the X-Files was different, obviously; it makes a difference that it was a het ship, and the ship did become canon, albeit with frustrating ambiguity. (Actually, truth be told, there was mild queerbaiting on TXF. For example, the creators were amused by fans shipping Mulder/Krycek, and the result?)
But what TXF, Supernatural, Sherlock, and probably 911 have in common is that there is an inherent tension between pleasing fans who are eager to see the ship and fans who aren’t—fans who might even be outright offended if there were a m/m ship among leads on their genre show, or (in TXF’s case) even a romance at all. For all of these shows, they definitely wanted to keep the passionate shippers on the hook and watching breathlessly, but they also were worried about alienating those who didn’t want to think of it as that kind of show.
This is not only gendered, but comes back to money—especially because in the 90s, TXF for sure was judged “successful” not exactly because its overall ratings were so strong, but because it appealed particularly to the younger male demographic considered especially valuable by advertisers. I suspect this is also the case with Supernatural. (I know less about the money workings of British TV and Sherlock, and less about 911's world, the more complicated 2020s American TV business. Although I will say that 911 is kind of an old-fashioned network show.) But in the days of the original run of The X-Files it was certainly the truth: even if passionate online fans might be female, the fans that were always going to count with advertisers were male.
Real talk it’s been dry out here and you’re my favorite smut writer, so I need to know: what are your favorite smut fics? Calling all purveyors!
I mean, always and forever Contact High.
What are you looking for, anon? I lost all my bookmarks years ago and have never really gotten around to rebuilding them, so I have vague impressions of a ton of stories, but don't have specific titles or anything. Basically the only things I can remember are anything @mashnotesofthemythopoeic wrote and Aphrodesia, which I don't remember if I ever finished.
@numinousmysteries wrote a hot Skinner/Scully/Mulder fic, if that's your jam, and @muldersfingers wrote a Scully/Mulder/Hank-from-Californication fic.
I bet we can crowdsource some other recs if we know what you're interested in :)
Mulder and Scully were in the office, finishing up paperwork from their last case. They were working diligently and quietly, as per usual. They were model FBI agents and both had been Employee of the Month twice.
"Scully, we should go on a double date sometime," Mulder suggested out of the blue.
"A double date?"
"Yeah, now that we both are dating people, it might be fun."
"Fun?" Scully questioned. She wasn't sure it would be fun, but it would definitely be unprofessional. She might have to consult the employee handbook first.
"Come on, Scully, I know it's unlike us to socialize outside of work and we have set really good boundaries in our partnership, but maybe we should cut loose sometime."
Scully considered it and then agreed. "Fine. Where do you want to go?"
"There's this new restaurant that opened up - I'll get you the address. Does Friday at 7 work?"
"Sure, Mulder, we'll be there."
-------
A few days later, Scully entered the restaurant and made her way to the table where Mulder and Phoebe were already seated. After Phoebe's exceptional assistance on the arsonist case a year back, she and Mulder had rekindled their long lost university romance and had been inseparable ever since. Mulder made it a point to leave the office every day at 5 pm, and he never worked on the weekends. He was a doting boyfriend, but also never let his personal life affect their work.
"Hey, Scully, where's Carl?" Mulder asked once she approached the table.
"Oh, he's finishing up a cigarette outside. He may be a smoker but he thinks it's rude to smoke indoors."
"That's so considerate of him," Phoebe chimed in.
"He's really great," Scully beamed. "He was happy to take a break from his novel tonight."
"Once he's published, you'll have to get us some signed copies of the book," Mulder requested.
Scully wondered if this request was overstepping their professional boundaries. She spent a lot of time at Human Resources going over the employee handbook, so she had a pretty good idea of what was allowed between FBI partners. But she might email her representative on Monday, just to be sure. As long as the books were under $25, she was probably in the clear.
Carl finally arrived and took his seat at their table. He was an older gentleman, but distinguished in looks and character. As a rule Scully only dated men at least 25 years older than her. She liked that they could get the senior discount when they went to the movies. Unfortunately, the FBI didn't pay very well. Another complaint to her HR rep, she noted in her head.
The conversation between the four was pleasant. They didn't talk about work because it would be unprofessional to discuss cases outside of the office but instead chatted about the weather, politics, movies and tv shows they had seen. Scully found it absolutely riveting. She was often bored at work and needed to be challenged more. But debating whether spring would come early or late this year was right up her alley.
She was surprised that her, Mulder, Phoebe, and Carl got along so well. When Carl left for another smoke break, Phoebe turned to Scully with a mischievous look in her eye and wagged her finger between the two work partners.
"Fox always denies it, but I know you'll be truthful, Dana. Anything ever go on between you two?"
Scully's jaw dropped open. She was flabbergasted at such an accusation of misconduct.
"Absolutely not, Phoebe. That would be unprofessional and we are very by the book," Scully insisted.
"See, Phoebe, I wasn't lying," Mulder added. "The only emotion I feel towards Scully is positive collegial regard."
"Okay, just checking," Phoebe winked. "I pride myself on my work conduct as well. For instance, I would never sleep with a married man who was involved in one of my cases."
"Of course you wouldn't, Phoebe!" Scully exclaimed. She knew the woman had strong morals and was a little shocked that Phoebe was discussing such unsavory topics at dinner. But, it was Friday night, so Scully would allow it.
When the check came, the four decided to split it evenly - they were very egalitarian like that. And Carl got an AARP discount, which took 10% off the bill.
All in all, it was an enjoyable evening and Scully was proud of herself for bending the rules for once. She would still need to go to confession though.
Scully sat up in bed, her heart pounding. She had the strangest dream, and she had to assure herself it wasn't real.
"Mulder, wake up," she shook her partner, who was sleeping next to her.
"Hmmph," he grumbled into his pillow. When Mulder realized it was Scully waking him up, he became concerned. "What's wrong?" he asked, rolling over to turn on the light.
"I had a really weird dream. You were dating Phoebe" - Mulder made a retching sound - "and I was dating..." she paused.
"It's so awful I can't even say it," Scully decided. "I was really concerned about the rules and was going to HR to read over the employee handbook every day. And we had no relationship other than being work partners."
Mulder snorted. "Well, your dream is certainly lacking realism. We've probably broken every FBI rule at least once and most of them several times."
"We?" Scully asked. "You mean YOU. What rules have I broken?"
"Did you forget that we work together? And I'm currently sleeping in your bed?" Mulder asked.
"Okay, fine, but I think we deserve a pass on that one. Our work has only improved since we've gotten together," she countered.
"Well, I want to be good, like your Dream Mulder. So, I'm going to sleep on the couch," Mulder announced, grabbing his pillow and starting to climb off the bed.
"What? No, Mulder, don't go," Scully pleaded. She didn't want to be left alone thinking about the horrible dream she had.
Mulder sat back down. "Just admit you like breaking the rules."
"No," she said, doubling down.
"So, you don't like it when I do this?" he asked, a fingertip lightly tracing her collarbone, down to the vee of her shirt, where one button was undone.
"No," she repeated, but there was a hitch in her voice that Mulder clearly noticed.
He circled one of her nipples over the fabric. "And you hate this?"
"Yes," she whispered. It didn't sound convincing at all.
"Well, I guess we won't be breaking any more rules then," Mulder sighed, and tried to pull his hand away, but Scully grabbed it.
"Fine, you're right. I like breaking the rules with you, Mulder," Scully admitted.
Mulder smiled and then pushed her back on the bed. They proceeded to break a few FBI rules, several biblical codes, and probably a law or two in some conservative states. And Scully forgot all about the weird dream she had.
Mulder and Scully were in the office, finishing up paperwork from their last case. They were working diligently and quietly, as per usual. They were model FBI agents and both had been Employee of the Month twice.
"Scully, we should go on a double date sometime," Mulder suggested out of the blue.
"A double date?"
"Yeah, now that we both are dating people, it might be fun."
"Fun?" Scully questioned. She wasn't sure it would be fun, but it would definitely be unprofessional. She might have to consult the employee handbook first.
"Come on, Scully, I know it's unlike us to socialize outside of work and we have set really good boundaries in our partnership, but maybe we should cut loose sometime."
Scully considered it and then agreed. "Fine. Where do you want to go?"
"There's this new restaurant that opened up - I'll get you the address. Does Friday at 7 work?"
"Sure, Mulder, we'll be there."
-------
A few days later, Scully entered the restaurant and made her way to the table where Mulder and Phoebe were already seated. After Phoebe's exceptional assistance on the arsonist case a year back, she and Mulder had rekindled their long lost university romance and had been inseparable ever since. Mulder made it a point to leave the office every day at 5 pm, and he never worked on the weekends. He was a doting boyfriend, but also never let his personal life affect their work.
"Hey, Scully, where's Carl?" Mulder asked once she approached the table.
"Oh, he's finishing up a cigarette outside. He may be a smoker but he thinks it's rude to smoke indoors."
"That's so considerate of him," Phoebe chimed in.
"He's really great," Scully beamed. "He was happy to take a break from his novel tonight."
"Once he's published, you'll have to get us some signed copies of the book," Mulder requested.
Scully wondered if this request was overstepping their professional boundaries. She spent a lot of time at Human Resources going over the employee handbook, so she had a pretty good idea of what was allowed between FBI partners. But she might email her representative on Monday, just to be sure. As long as the books were under $25, she was probably in the clear.
Carl finally arrived and took his seat at their table. He was an older gentleman, but distinguished in looks and character. As a rule Scully only dated men at least 25 years older than her. She liked that they could get the senior discount when they went to the movies. Unfortunately, the FBI didn't pay very well. Another complaint to her HR rep, she noted in her head.
The conversation between the four was pleasant. They didn't talk about work because it would be unprofessional to discuss cases outside of the office but instead chatted about the weather, politics, movies and tv shows they had seen. Scully found it absolutely riveting. She was often bored at work and needed to be challenged more. But debating whether spring would come early or late this year was right up her alley.
She was surprised that her, Mulder, Phoebe, and Carl got along so well. When Carl left for another smoke break, Phoebe turned to Scully with a mischievous look in her eye and wagged her finger between the two work partners.
"Fox always denies it, but I know you'll be truthful, Dana. Anything ever go on between you two?"
Scully's jaw dropped open. She was flabbergasted at such an accusation of misconduct.
"Absolutely not, Phoebe. That would be unprofessional and we are very by the book," Scully insisted.
"See, Phoebe, I wasn't lying," Mulder added. "The only emotion I feel towards Scully is positive collegial regard."
"Okay, just checking," Phoebe winked. "I pride myself on my work conduct as well. For instance, I would never sleep with a married man who was involved in one of my cases."
"Of course you wouldn't, Phoebe!" Scully exclaimed. She knew the woman had strong morals and was a little shocked that Phoebe was discussing such unsavory topics at dinner. But, it was Friday night, so Scully would allow it.
When the check came, the four decided to split it evenly - they were very egalitarian like that. And Carl got an AARP discount, which took 10% off the bill.
All in all, it was an enjoyable evening and Scully was proud of herself for bending the rules for once. She would still need to go to confession though.
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First we were somewhere warm, then we were somewhere cold. So brutally cold. The cold left us no choice but to be rigidly still. We always kept close to each other, but now we were wedged together inside a hard vessel, not a breath of air between us. We drifted in and out of consciousness. We couldn’t feel time moving through us anymore, couldn’t feel ourselves growing older with each pass of its hand.
Most of all, we missed her voice. We don’t remember a time before we could hear her voice. We heard her cry out as a baby. We heard her childhood questions, the endless curiosity about how the world worked and her eagerness to find her place in it. We’d gotten used to the honeyed, breathy voice of the past few decades. We didn’t always understand what she said, but we felt her confidence, her intelligence, her moral clarity. We were proud to be hers. Eager to serve her, we sacrificed one of our own each month, always faithful this time would be the one that didn’t wash away in blood. We pride ourselves in our regularity, trusting she appreciated it.
But then, she was gone. Or we were gone. We’d never been without her, so it was hard to tell the difference. When we first went to the cold place, we assumed she'd come with us. But we couldn’t hear her voice anymore and we couldn't feel her softness, her warmth.
For so long, there was no warmth, no more sacrifices, no more her.
Suddenly, a shock of light is above us. There’s a hissing of air. A horrible jostling. Still trapped in our vessel, we’re shoved into a new place. It’s not cold, but not warm, either. It’s dark, but without the vacuum emptiness of the cold place. Light slips in as we move. Even from inside our vessel we’re overwhelmed by new smells. Is that…leather? Musk? We hear a familiar voice. It’s not hers, but it’s one we know nearly as well. It’s him! Feeling ourselves thaw, we tingle with excitement. He’s come to rescue us. To return us to her.
And we do hear her again. Her voice is so different this time. As if…from outside? Is this what she sounds like to the rest of the world? As comforting as it is to hear her voice again after so long, the distance feels too great to cross. She sounds sad. She cries. He cries along with her. She draws nearer and we feel her so, so close to us. We’ve almost completely shaken off the ice of the cold place and, even though this new not-warm, not-cold temperature feels somewhat suffocating, we buzz together, breathless at the two of them together again, and us, right where we belong, in between them.
But then she’s gone. And we’re alone with him. We like him, sure, but he isn’t ours. He can’t keep us safe like she did. We don’t believe it, but we start to miss the cold. We feel weaker, fuzzier in our integrity. We feel ourselves fading away entirely right when he moves us to a new place. Back in the cold, we feel oddly revitalized. It’s not as good a being with her, but we feel like this buys us time. We can at least survive here until they figure it out.
It isn’t as bad in this cold place. Occasionally, light peels in and we see him poking around for something else that shares our space. In the brief windows of light we try to make sense of what we see. What is Hungry Man? What is Stouffer’s? Our new companions come and go, but we remain. Sometimes we even get to see her—in the distance when the light briefly appears or even up close, her hand reaching around for Ben and Jerry, or Edy, but never us.
*
More time passes. This place isn’t home, but it’s better than where we were before. We learn to listen carefully beyond the walls of our enclosure and we hear her more and more. We take this to be a good sign.
Our status quo shifts one day when he reaches for us—for us! finally!—and takes us somewhere new. Even though he’s with us the whole time, this new place feels too oddly sterile—like the cold, lonely place. A new hand takes us, gloved in latex, and releases some of us from our vessel. This is unexpected. Suddenly, some of us are freed into a clear dish. There’s freedom to move around but, scared and unfamiliar with the concept, we cling to each other. Glass presses against the dish and we see an eye, magnified to a terrifying degree, hovering over us. We try to squirm and evade its sight, but there’s nowhere to hide.
“Well, Agent Mulder, this is quite a peculiar request,” we hear. We don’t know this voice, but we suspect it’s connected to the eyeball. “I can certainly run more tests, but just based on the history you’ve given and the…unusual storage method you’ve described, I have doubts about the sample’s viability.”
“Run the tests,” we hear him say. His voice is firm. “I have to know if there’s any chance.”
It’s clear now that we’re the subject of these tests. If they’re anything like getting stared at by a glassy eyeball, we’re not sure we’d like any more of them, but we trust him on instinct. Because she would. And we are part of her.
“Of course,” the eyeball replies. “I have to ask, though, how did this sample come into your possession? Such a thorough extraction like this would be medically impossible.”
“Maybe on this planet,” he says.
The eyeball chuckles in return, but he doesn’t return the laugh.
“And,” the eyeball continues. “To whom does this specimen belong?”
“Someone very important to me,” he says. “That’s why I need to know.”
It’s her! We know it must be. And we know we must be brave for her. For both of them.
We are brave and selfless by nature. We must be, given our fate; knowing nearly all of us will amount to nothing in the end. Whether we are sacrificed early on or left to wither away until the end of her days, most of us know we are not meant for greatness, but still we believe. In each other, in her, and now in him.
For legal reasons, this is a joke. Eggs are not people, no matter where they are stored. They do not have rights. They do ship Mulder and Scully though because come on how could they not? Also, none of this is real science, nor has it been beta'd.
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