TITLE: Hook, Line & Sinker AUTHOR: Penny Daza EMAIL ADDRESS: majick@webquest.com DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere, knock yourself out. Just keep my name on it. :-) SPOILER WARNING: None RATING: R, maybe NC-17 CLASSIFICATION: V, H. Schizoid MSR. SUMMARY: A little alcohol goes a long, long way. And it's not exactly what you're thinking. DISCLAIMER: All characters are property of his royal highness, Chris Carter and the Fox Network. And to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson who never cease to give me inspiration because of their talent, intelligence and good looks. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Have you got Fat Boy Slim's CD? Play it. Like, right now. FEEDBACK: Welcomed. Flames too, but be gentle. ---------------------------------------------------- Hook, Line & Sinker ---------------------------------------------------- I wonder if he knows, Scully thought. He had informed her earlier that morning that Agent Tomas had invited him to a cup of coffee and that he had accepted with many reservations. Mulder had blamed his acquiescence only because Scully had called in and informed him she would be coming in late and boredom had set in. After a dozen wasted sheets of paper had met their untimely deaths at his hands in the forms of paper airplanes, Agent Tomas had knocked on the office door and offered some cappuccino. It took a good three seconds for it to sink in, and with a raised eyebrow Mulder had bluntly asked Tomas, "What's the ulterior motive?" Tomas had simply shrugged and answered "Nothing. I was just wondering." Mulder looked around the office, at the cannibalized paper airplanes, the absence of Scully and decided whatever reason Tomas might have for inviting him for some coffee could easily be handled by his capable brain. After heading for the local restaurant, conversation had been strained in the beginning, Mulder weary of Tomas of course, but he relaxed and picked up when the subject of basketball was brought up. Mulder noticed that Tomas didn't bring up Scully's name at all during their one-hour chat, for which he was relieved but somewhat nervous as well. He knew fully well that tongues at the Bureau were constantly wagging in their direction, from the 'convenience' of having their office all the way down and isolated in the basement, to how two attractive people would find it downright impossible to maintain a professional relationship after a five year partnership. But Tomas didn't seem to mind any of that. Instead, his eyes brightened as soon as Mulder finally let out an unstrained comment, and he was soon gabbing it up with Mulder like an old-time buddy. They swapped information on where the other played basketball, and before Mulder knew it, he'd been invited and he'd consented to meet Tomas at a nearby court for a few games. It had all happened too fast for Mulder's taste, but he decided it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he was long overdue for some male companionship. It would be good, he thought, for him and Scully as well. He wouldn't feel like so much of a burden to her now, and she would be happy that he had someone else to bother. As he recounted the strange events of his morning to Scully, she smiled and nodded her head, while typing away at her computer. Vaguely, she wondered if Mulder knew what she knew. Of course, she thought. How couldn't he? Mulder's a damn fine psychologist, and very perceptive. Naturally he knows Agent Tomas is gay. "Looking forward to shooting hoops with him, Mulder?" she asked. Mulder leaned back into his seat and propped his feet onto the table, the shot an imaginary basketball into an imaginary hoop. "I guess. Haven't played one on one with anyone in a while." Scully nodded her head slowly, still engrossed in her file. "That's good." "Yup." Another imaginary play, and Mulder looked up at Scully. "Wanna watch?" "No thanks. I need to finish up something with my mom, but I know you'll do great." She saved her file and shut the computer off. "Now then. What have we got for today?" ---------------------------------------------------- Scully walked into her apartment, already preparing in her head what she was planning to cook for dinner. She and Mulder had left the office at 6 PM and headed home, both a tad dismayed that the case they had been planning to look into turned out to be a hoax. As was her routine, she walked over to her answering machine while taking off her shoes and earrings. Her eyeballs bugged when the little digital indicator read "28" for new messages. Frowning at what it might be, she played the tape and walked into her kitchen. "Hi Dana. Remember me? Jim Taylor from college? How you been? Gimme a call at 555-1231." "Dana! Jim Taylor. Maybe you didn't get my first message, remember me from college? Hey, give me a call and we'll catch up on old times. 555-1231." "Guess you aren't home yet, Dana. It's me! Jim Taylor again. From college, remember? You have my number, drop me a line!" "Jim Taylor, Dana! Where's that call of mine?" Message after message sounded almost identical. Jim Taylor from COLLEGE. HI! Give me a call! Scully winced after the first message, the name of Jim Taylor provoking nothing more than a quick gag reflex. Mr. Big Man on Campus and all around jock, Scully guessed he hadn't changed all that much in the dozen or so years she had not seen or heard from him. He was everyone's crush, but simply not her type. What he had for in muscles, he lacked in IQ. What he thought was devilishly charming was frustratingly irritating to Scully. Yet he pursued her precisely because he knew about all that, and it had become such a big deal to prove to himself and his friends that no, EVERY single woman on campus had the hots for him. Only four of the 28 messages on her machine didn't belong to Jim Taylor from college, and it irritated her to no end that he had taken up so much space on her cassette. She momentarily chastised herself for behaving somewhat immaturely, like a jilted prom-queen of sorts, but quickly justified her decision. Jim Taylor was, is and always would be, the arrogant, self-centered bastard he had been in college now and forevermore. With that pleasant thought in mind, Scully started on her pesto pasta dinner and some nice red wine. ---------------------------------------------------- Back at his apartment, he picked up his much-loved basketball and was dribbling it absent-mindedly as he picked up the receiver. The phone rang just as Mulder was about to call Scully. "Mulder." "Hey, Mulder. Tomas here." Mulder frowned briefly. This was really getting weird. "What's up?" "Just wondering if you wanted to play some b-ball tonight. There's a game over at the court I play in and they're two guys short." Mulder picked up the basketball and set it beside him on the couch. I really need to freshen up on my social skills, Mulder thought. Why the hell do I find a co-agent calling me up for basketball weird? "What time?" A small pause from Tomas before he answered. "Ummm' 10 PM?" Mulder looked at his watch, scanned through what he had planned for the evening and decided a basketball game could be more interesting than watching Dawn of The Dead on TV. "Sure. What time do you want me there?" "9:45 should be enough time for me to introduce you to the other guys. See you then." Mulder nodded before putting down the phone. He stood, headed for his closet and pulled out his gym bag, stuffed with clothes that had been in there since the last time he used it. Tossing in a towel, t-shirt, and toilet kit, he thought briefly of calling Scully to tell her he wouldn't be home after 9:30 PM, then decided against it. After all, why should Mulder make Scully feel responsible for him? ---------------------------------------------------- She was just washing up her dishes when the phone rang. Wiping her hands on a towel, Scully was already assuming it was Mulder, no doubt calling her up to make sure she'd gotten home safely or to just chit-chat. "Scully." "Hey! Dana! Jim Taylor! From college, remember?" Oh, good lord. "Just got in?" he asked. "Yes, actually." Scully answered. Her hand had involuntarily already started rubbing at her temples. "I KNEW there had to be a reasonable explanation you hadn't called me." Scully could almost make-out the slick grin that must be forming on Jim Taylor From College's face. "Anywho. Dana! I'm in town for the next month or so and I was wondering if oh, maybe you and I could get together, eh?" Scully winced. She wondered if Jim heard it. "I really don't think so, Jim. I'm extremely busy with work, even on the weekends." "Aw, come on! You're at home NOW, aren't you? Just a cup of coffee, some good conversation. One hour tops!" Give it UP, Scully thought. "Like I said Jim, I just got home from work and I'm really pretty exhausted." Totally ignoring her obvious reluctance, Jim just seemed to get even perkier. "Well, don't you fret about anything, Dana. I'll drop you a line everyday at around this time just in case those slave drivers at the FBI give you a little leeway." That caught her attention. "How did you know I was working for the Bureau?" "Oh, the same way I got your number. Jessie Morris. She and I bumped into each other at the mall and told me all about you. You sure made it big for a woman, lemme say that!!" One of Scully's eyes closed in irritation. Some things really never changed. Jim Taylor was still the arrogant hunk-jock, and Jessie Morris was still the regional pillar of information. In all probability, thanks to Jessie, Jim probably had her address too. ---------------------------------------------------- The florescent light of the indoor court were a tad uncomfortable for Mulder, but the discomfort was only momentary. His eyes quickly adjusted as he looked around for Tomas, the spotted him talking to a group of five other people. He stopped when he was about four feet from them, and Tomas turned when one of the players he was talking to motioned to Mulder. "Mulder! Glad you could make it. These are the guys we'll be playing with." He placed a hand on Mulder's back and coaxed him forward. "This is Dax, Lee, Bobby, Paul and Alex. Guys, this is Fox Mulder." Mulder walked down the line shaking hands one by one till he reached Alex who gave him a smile and held his hand a tad longer than the rest. "Craig sure wasn't exaggerating when he told me about you." "Craig?" Mulder asked. "Tomas." Tomas had moved in on him and Alex. "That's my first name, Mulder. You've got one too, remember?" he said, chuckling. The jest didn't register. Mulder was too busy wondering what Tomas had said to Alex. What was there to exaggerate about? Tomas certainly had never seen him play basketball before' "Let's start the game, guys!" Dax bellowed, blowing on the whistle around his neck, as he tossed Tomas the ball. ---------------------------------------------------- The following morning, Mulder and Scully had bags the size of Florida under their eyes. Mulder's team had won the game, the opposing team asked for a rematch. Two of them. As much as he'd wanted to leave them, he couldn't find the heart to the men he'd just met who had been easy enough to get along with. Jim Taylor from college refused to be put off. After threatening Scully to go over to her apartment to 'catch up' if she put the phone down on him, she decided to keep him on the line while she read her case files, not really listening and instead murmur "uh-huh" from time to time. Jim had finally let her go at 1 AM. "Looks like you had a rough night too, Scully." Mulder greeted. She nodded and sat down on his table, only noticing then he looked as haggard as she was. "What happened to you?" "I didn't get home till after midnight," he muttered. "They asked for a rematch." "Your basketball game lasted till after midnight?" He picked up a piece of paper and started folding it into an airplane. "Yup. But it was fun. Tomas is actually a pretty nice guy." Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking, Scully would never know. But for some reason, her temper flared at his ignorance. "He's GAY, Mulder. G-A-Y." She would've given anything in the world to see his expression again. "Well I can be friends with a gay man, Scully. It's no bid deal," he tried to answer nonchalantly. "Mulder," Scully said, leaning across the table so they were face to face. "I heard him tell Skinner's secretary you had a butt to die for." "It was an observation. A woman could say that about me and it wouldn't mean she wanted a relationship with me," he countered. "I've seen him WATCH you without you knowing it when you go for your swim at the pool!" Mulder's mouth formed a little "oh", and he hastily perused his airplane's aerodynamics. Scully smirked and hopped off his table. She was just about to put her laptop on when Mulder suddenly asked, "Are you sure he's gay?" Scully shot him a dirty look. "'Coz' he asked me to dinner tonight." "I guess that answers your own question, Mulder." He nodded and threw his plane, watching it rise then fall to the ground. "Guess I better cancel then, huh." She grinned. "Unless you're interested, Mulder." He frowned at her comically. "Do you doubt my sexual orientation, Scully?" *It'd explain a helluva lot* she thought. But the subject, she decided, was better left alone than dwelled on. "So aren't you going to ask why I look almost as bad you do, Mulder?" "Why do you look almost as bad as I do, Scully?" "A blast from the past named Jim Taylor. Kept me up all night." "Oooo. Should I be jealous?" Mulder leered. "Not even close. He kept me up on the phone trying to make me see what a prize-catch her was in college and now. He's the most arrogant, conceited, self-centered male in the world. Even more than you, Mulder." "Gee, thanks." "And aaarrrggh. His pick-up line is getting too damn old. 'Jim Taylor! >From COLLEGE, remember?'" Mulder chuckled, picking up his plane from the floor and pointing it at her. "Well, we've got something to keep your mind off of it for a little while." He handed her a small message scribbled on a piece of paper. "What's this?" she asked, taking it from him. "A lead on the Boyer kidnapping." "Says here if our informant isn't at this place by 10 PM, it means it was too dangerous?" "Yup. So dress funky tonight, Scully. That's a local club with all the loud music and strobe lights." ---------------------------------------------------- "10 PM, Mulder. We're outta here." Mulder glanced up and Scully, then cocked his head off to the side, listening to the music. "Fat Boy Slim." "Excuse me?" "Fat Boy Slim. The music's by Fat Boy Slim." An eyebrow arched gracefully into the air. "Is that supposed to mean something to me, Mulder?" Mulder gestured to his beer before replying. "Let me finish my beer first." Scully sat back into her chair, and let her gaze fall to the dance floor. People their age were gyrating to the heavy bass of the music, some of them 'freaking' if Scully remembered her slang. Couples pressed hard against each other, men's hands clasped possessively over the waists of their girlfriends, women's arms raised, framing their dancing partner's faces. All in all, it looked like a very sexual, primitive and carnal mating ritual with invisible hands pounding out drums to the rhythms of passion. She suddenly felt voyeuristic, as though intruding on a couple's private world, and let her eyes fall back to Mulder instead. The strobe lights reflected off his face, hand and beer, giving him an ethereal glow. She noticed that his eyes were fixed on the dance floor, at the same thing she had been observing just seconds before. She was about to wonder if he was getting turned on by the spectacle when a familiar figure stepped into the club. "Ohhhhh SHIT," she muttered. Jim Taylor. From college. Swell. Mulder barely heard her, the idea of his partner saying the word "shit" totally alien to him. "Did you just say 'shit', Scully?" he queried, watching as she made an attempt at hiding from something behind him. "It's Jim Taylor. He just walked in, dammit!" Mulder eyes widened a fraction. "From college? Where?" He looked behind him and saw who he presumed was Jim Taylor, making a beeline for their table with the most ridiculous grin on his face. Mulder observed Taylor weave his way to the table. The receding hairline, the paunch of his belly, his ungraceful gait. It somehow seemed unimaginable he used to be "the big man on campus." He looked over to Scully who was too busy wincing silently to pay him any attention. Jim had been doing a pretty good job of heading for Scully's table, but the sheer volume of people inside the club was making it difficult. By sheer coincidence did he find her inside, and he was convinced that the fates had something planned for him and Dana Scully. Dance clubs were really not his thing, but SOMETHING had told him to go inside and check it out. The fact that the first thing his eyes locked on was Dana Scully only reinforced his convictions. His eyes had spotted the man she was with, but all he could see from his angle was the back of his head. Jim wasn't worried. The guy could look like Richard Gere but Dana would have eyes only for him once he turned on the charm. Scully didn't know what she was going to do. Shooting Jim was out of the question of course, but she was sorely tempted to do so. Mulder would support her alibi, wouldn't he? She could see that Jim was less than 10 feet away from their table. Her head shook from side to side as though visibly disagreeing with some invisible force, but what she as really trying to do was find an escape route. No such luck. ---------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile, at the other end of the bar, another figure walked in ready to party the night away. His date had cancelled at the last minute, but he wasn't feeling low. Mulder was a busy man, after all. And besides, it was partially his fault for giving him such short notice. He decided to head for the bar and look for anyone he knew, when a familiar nose and sad eyes caught his attention. Mulder. ---------------------------------------------------- Mulder took in Scully's facial expression of absolute dismay, disgust, fright and fear. This goes down in my calendar, he thought. She's kicked alien but, but I have NEVER seen that expression before in my life. His mind's gears started working, and Fox Mulder came up with a plan. Before he could finalize it, the crowd mysteriously parted just enough for him to see the smiling face of Agent Craig Tomas, scanning the club. "Ohhhhhhh SHIT." Scully looked up at him, startled. He couldn't be teasing. She was sure he had the same look she had when Jim walked into the bar. "What, Mulder?" His only response was to take a profound interest in the bottle of beer in his hand and a nod to the area behind her. Scully turned slowly, almost afraid of what she might see. As her face came into his line of vision, Agent Tomas' eyebrow arched. Well, well! he thought. So the rumor mills at the office might have been right after all! Mulder and Scully WERE an item, and he was really HETEROSEXUAL. The plot grew even thicker though, when Craig spotted someone weaving his way to Mulder's table. His trained eye told him that at one point whoever it was probably once very good-looking, but the harsh realities of aging had caught up and his pot belly hung precariously over his belt. Craig wondered if the mysterious stranger was Mulder's acquaintance, or Scully's. He watched as the stranger made a beeline for Scully, who stood up, gave him a pained smile and waved to Mulder, apparently introducing them. Mulder stood to his full length, in what looked to be an intimidating posture. Oh my god, thought Craig. Mulder JEALOUS of a male friend of Scully's? Hmmmmmmmmmmm'. ---------------------------------------------------- Back at their table, Mulder shook Jim's hand and let him see the good five inches he had over him. His mind's gears were now working overtime. He and Scully could kill two birds with a single stone. He had barely been able to whisper to Scully to leave everything to him and to just play along before Jim arrived. Scully was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about when Jim had sauntered over. It was a good thing too, Mulder thought. If Scully knew exactly what was brewing in his head, she would have already given him the look that could melt icebergs in the North Pole. "Jim Taylor, this is -" Scully started, before Mulder interrupted her. "Fox Mulder." He had shaken Jim's hand then, taking a perverse satisfaction when Jim had winced and tried unsuccessfully to shake the pain Mulder's grip had caused from his hand. "Jim Taylor," he managed. "From-" "College. I know. Dana's told me about you." Jim nodded, trying to figure out what Mulder meant by that. With dismay, he saw that the table they were occupying had only two seats. Had a third been available, he would have sat down without invitation and dazzled Dana with conversation and made this Fox Mulder character look like Mr. Rogers. "Too bad this place is filled to the brim, huh, Jim?" Mulder asked, his voice barely loud enough for Jim to hear. "Otherwise of course, I'd invite you to sit with us. Maybe you can hang around the bar for awhile till a seat's available. The waiters here are friends of mine and I'll make sure we get you one as soon one's available. That sound good?" The club had now reached its maximum capacity. The music louder than it would ever get for the night, and all hopes for a seat totally eradicated. Mulder being buddies with the waiters gave him one over Jim, and would make him look even better to Dana, but Jim didn't want lose this golden opportunity to dazzle Dana with his charm and machismo. And that bit from Mulder about how Dana had told him about him, well, heck! That HAD to be a sign. He gave them both a dazzling smile and nodded, then patted Mulder on his back. "Great! I'll see you both then," Jim said, before winking - in his opinion very attractively to Dana - before heading for the bar. "Tell Charlie to give you a beer. On me." Mulder called. Without a doubt, Mulder knew that Jim knew he had a few points over him with Scully. So far, he was already beating Jim to a bloody pulp in the mind game called Macho Men. "Mulder what the hell was that about?" Scully demanded, as soon as Jim was out of earshot. Mulder grinned. "We're going to kill two birds with one stone, Scully." "What are you talking about, Mulder?" Mulder nodded over to Agent Tomas. "Since you were nice enough to inform me about Agent Tomas' ` er ` probable intentions with me, I've been in pretty much the same bind as you, Scully." She looked at him quizzically, then almost broke out into a soft chuckle. "I guess so, Mulder. What did you have in mind?" The grin on Mulder's face scared her more than the Moth Men could ever have. "Just play along with me, Scully." Before she could object, he held his hand up and continued. "No, I'm not going to do anything to embarrass you. Two, things won't get out of hand - unless you want them to," he added. "That'd be neat-o, Scully." She plunged her finger into her glass of diet soda and stirred the ice, looking at him wearily. He was being evasive again, and an evasive Mulder was a scary Mulder, but Mulder's plans usually worked. "I have your word on numbers one and two?" she asked him. He crossed his finger over his chest. "Absolutely." "Okay, Mulder. What do you have in mind?" -------------------------- From both ends of the club, two pairs of eyes watched as Mulder and Scully moved to a corner of the club. Mulder's hand was rested comfortably on Scully's lower back, guiding her through the throng of people engrossed in dancing, drinking and conversation. Mulder leaned against a wall off to the wall near the disc player's booth and splayed his legs, where he gently tugged Scully to stand between them. He lowered his head and whispered something in her ear that made her smile, and she reached behind herself to grasp his hand and place it on her hip. It remained there for a few seconds, then slowly traveled to her belly, where it stopped and Mulder's palm raised a fraction as his fingers spread open to interlace with hers. The two observers' eyes widened. ---------------------------------------------------- Through clenched teeth, but with a smile never the less, Scully murmured, "Mulder, I'm going to kill you for this." Never had she held hands with Mulder in this way, and never had Mulder propped his chin on her shoulder to whisper seductively into her ear, giving her instructions. "It's working, isn't it?" he asked solicitously, hoping Scully wouldn't suddenly turn and kick him in the family jewels. "Look at them, their eyes are as big as saucer cups." Scully looked. Jim looked forlorn, Agent Tomas looked shocked. "If word about this gets around the Bureau and word about this WILL, we're both dead meat." Mulder nodded slowly, making a big production and smiled seductively for the benefit of their audience. "It isn't like we aren't used to those rumors, Scully. Tomas can yak all he wants. The beauty of this is that everyone he tells will think he's spouting off because he's jealous and making stories up because he was wrong about my sexual orientation." Scully sighed. What Mulder said was true, and she had to admit, it looked as though the chapter in her life entitled Jim Taylor From College would finally close with this stunt she was playing. "You better be right about this, Mulder. What's next?" ---------------------------------------------------- A waiter brushed by Jim, practically bowling him over in haste as he delivered a beer to Dana and Mulder. Mulder had grinned to the waiter as he picked the beer. The waiter grinned back and waved to Mulder before he left. The schmuck WAS friends with all the waiters. To the very last second, he was hoping it had been a lie and Dana would see through it. Now, he watched in painful agony as Mulder's head transferred sides to Dana's other shoulder and his intimate whisperings began once again. He watched in jealousy as Mulder's other hand (the one that WASN'T on her waist) reached forward and cupped Dana's cheek, tilting it up and to her left so that their faces were mere centimeters apart. Mulder kept smiling seductively, and from time to time arched an eyebrow, as though Dana was saying things that were delightfully naughty to his ears. What I'd give to find out WHAT the hell they're talking about, he thought. ---------------------------------------------------- "You're too damn close, Mulder," Scully smiled. Mulder smiled but didn't make a move. "How much do you want me to pull back, Scully?" "Ten feet. Anything less and I'll kill you." "But we're doing so well." Scully's smile didn't falter as she muttered, "This better be worth it." Mulder's smile was angelic. "Oh, it is. Time for the next step, Scully." "Why am I very afraid of what you're going to say next, Mulder?" He took his hand from her chin and slowly placed his arms on her shoulders, so that his hands crossed in front of her, his beer dangling from them. "I'm going to reach behind you and sweep the hair off your nape, Scully. Then I'm going to lower my head so that its next to yours. Okay with that?" "Do I even have a choice?" she asked. "At least you don't have to crane your neck, short stuff." Scully nodded slowly, her small smile still in place. "I'm going to get you for that, G-man." "Looking forward to it, G-woman." ---------------------------------------------------- Tomas couldn't have been more shocked than he already was. Scully and Mulder in such an intimate embrace, he was practically beside himself with excitement. This was almost worth getting brushed off by Mulder, and he was certain that Mulder hadn't seen him. Surely, this wasn't for his benefit. If Mulder knew he was there, he would definitely not be doing what he was doing to his partner for fear of the Bureau tongue waggers having something new to talk about. He watched as Mulder seductively brushed away Scully's hair as they went practically cheek to cheek. Scully raised her arms and placed her hands on Mulder's biceps, then all the way down to his fingers and back again. Craig wished he had a camera. No one at the Bureau was going to believe this. ---------------------------------------------------- "Is this still Fat Slim Boy, Mulder?" asked Scully. They'd been in the same position for the last 6 minutes, Mulder having come to the conclusion remaining as they were was beneficial to their mission. "Fat Boy Slim, Scully. And yes, it is." "What passes for music these days," she muttered. "Many a libido's skyrocketed from this music, Scully. Listen closely. It's actually very primal, in spite of the techno." Scully looked up at Mulder behind her, then at his arms circled around her waist. She swiped the beer from his hands and took a healthy swig. He chuckled and signaled to a waiter, who brushed his previous customer's call and who just happened to be Jim. "What do you need, Mulder?" "Two more beers, Mike." "Gotcha. Be back in a sec." "How DO you know all the waiters in this place, Mulder?" Scully asked. She'd thought he was pulling Jim's leg, but Mike was the second waiter Mulder knew by name, not including the bar tender. "There's a basketball court a block away from here. These guys would shoot hoops before their shift, which would be around the same time I used to play there after work." Mike was already headed back to them, their beers balanced on his tray. "Ready for the next act, Scully?" Scully nodded. Mulder waited for Mike to get back to them, waiting for him to hand them their drinks. He then straightened up from the wall and placed his hand on Scully's hip, introducing her to Mike. "Mike, remember the partner I was telling you about? This is her in the flesh. Agent Dana Scully, Mike O'Brien." Mike held out a hand. "Cool! Mulder's told me all about you, Agent Scully. But he never mentioned you and he were -" "We're not," Scully interjected, the smile she offered telling him she was in no way insulted at his presumption. Mike looked at them curiously. "Don't turn around, bud. At the bar, the guy in the purple turtleneck near Charlie and the guy near the exit in the brown leather jacket. Scully and I are putting on a little show for their benefit." Mike grinned. "I gotcha, bud. Listen, this place is really busy tonight, but I'll keep an eye out for you and Agent Scully. Make sure you guys get everything you need, and I'll tell Vince and Tony too. How's that sound?" Mulder shook his hand. "Sounds great. Thanks, Mike. See you around the court." As Mike turned to leave, he gave Scully a smile and left to attend to his other customers. "Nice guy," Scully observed, taking a sip from her beer. "How long have you known him?" Mulder resumed his position against the wall and pulled Scully between his legs again, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Two, maybe two and a half years," he answered, taking a swig from his beer. For some reason, he was getting a little tipsier than usual at a faster rate. He held the bottle up and peered at the label. What he saw should have made Mulder panic, but he was already a little too fuzzy to react realistically. The beer he and Scully had been consuming had an innocent enough name, and it tasted like wine cooler. BUT had more alcohol in it than an entire bottle of vodka. Cool, a fuddled Mulder thought. It didn't even occur to him maybe he should tell Scully. Instead, he tightened his grip around her a little more before swallowing another mouthful of his beer. ---------------------------------------------------- Jim had seen enough. More than enough, actually. Dana and Mulder had been pawing at each other like teenagers in heat. Those lusty looks they gave each other, the constant physical contact, the whispers against each other's ear. He knew when he was beat, but it didn't stop him from sour-graping. After all, he was a little heavier than his college days, and Mulder was well over six feet (chicks always digged the tall guys) but well framed, and he bet a month's salary those eyes of his and tamed to perfection hair always got him what he wanted. Craig had wanted to wait for Mulder and Scully to actually kiss. For the last hour, all their body language pointed to that direction, and he had waited with baited breath in anticipation. The girls in the typing pool would die if he could tell them as much. But it was getting pretty late, and he was getting sleepy. Besides that, Mark had mentioned he might call, and now with Mulder obviously out of the picture, Craig would need someone else to talk to and spend romantic evenings with. He turned to leave, then decided just a few more minutes wouldn't hurt. ---------------------------------------------------- As she finished the rest of her delicious beer, Scully smiled. The evening was turning out pretty well. Mulder hadn't overstepped any bounds as promised, and the last time she checked on Jim Taylor from college, it was obvious that the show she and Mulder had put on had succeeded beautifully. She expected she would no longer get any annoying calls from him for at the very least, the next 10 years or so. She leaned further back into Mulder and asked him if he'd finished his beer. Mulder smiled happily, chugged the last drops from his bottle and answered yes, then asked if she wanted another one. She gave him a nod, and he motioned over to Mike for another two. The euphoria she was feeling was making her feel languid in a wonderful sort of way. Her senses became more aware of Mulder's scent, his touch, his breath against her neck where he hadn't moved from for the last 15 minutes. She couldn't be drunk, could she? She'd only had a little over a bottle, and the alcohol content couldn't be that much. It tasted more like bland soda pop to her than beer. "When's the next act, Mulder?" she asked, her mind telling her that Mulder's touch - the warmth and protectiveness - was not enough and that she had better come up with something to rectify that as soon as possible. His response was a long, slow, and deep intake of breath before placing his hands on her waist and turning her around so that they were chest to chest. His cheeks were a little flushed, which Scully the medical doctor should have concluded was a sign he was intoxicated, had Scully the medical doctor been 100% sober herself. So, in effect, it was Scully the woman who gleefully concluded the blush on his cheeks was adorably cute. Mulder's hands linked themselves behind her lower back as he bent down low to sweep his cheek across her forehead. Both of them barely suppressed the groan that escaped from their lips at the contact. It was suddenly feeling very hot in the club, they both decided. The music had gotten so loud they could feel their heartbeats practically losing its own steady thump to dance along. Scully's arms snaked around Mulder's waist, beneath his leather jacket, then pulled back and traveled from his belly up to his chest, then back down. She watched as his blushed faced turned a deeper red and his eyes half-closed. "What do you think you're doing, Scully?" His sensuous tone drove her hormones into overdrive. Her answer was a slurred, "You're neglecting the act. I'm just providing a supplement." It pretty much got out of hand after that. Mulder moved to cup Scully's face in his hands, their eyes closed, relishing the contact through their intoxicated state. The person in their arms was no longer the FBI partner. To Mulder, he had a beautiful, flesh and blood woman in his arms whose scent was drugging him into a splendid languor. He could feel the heat emanating from her, from the soft but firm flesh and muscles under her clothes, and it was driving him insane slowly, in degrees. For Scully, a newly discovered fascination with the sinewy muscles of Mulder gave precedence to explore and seek contact. She couldn't reason why she hadn't investigated sooner. The masculine scent of him mixed with his cologne was his unique smell, and it made her feel light-headed. Their faces were close enough to breathe in the same oxygen, their lips a mere inch apart. Mulder's fingers were caressing the nape of her neck, Scully's were travelling up and down his chest, her thumbs brushed against his nipples and he shuddered ever so slightly. "Sinker," Mulder murmured. "Hm?" Scully asked. "We've hooked, we've lined, and now we sink 'em." Their hips had started gyrating against each other to the beat of the music, their foreheads were pressed against each other. Scully's arms were now over Mulder's shoulders, and Mulder's hands had transferred to her hips, swaying along with them while occasionally pulling her a little closer. The smiles on both their lips were seductive, their eyes drilling into each other. A silent dare for the other to take the next step. "And how do you propose we sink them, Mulder?" He moved his lips close enough so that they touched her ear. "I'd rather show you, Scully. If you let me." The contact sent shivers of pleasure running up and down her spine. She nodded in total acquiescence, whatever Mulder had in mind was sure to be just as pleasing or even more pleasing than what they'd been doing. Time stopped for her as she watched his lips close the gap between them. He brushed them over the bridge of her nose, while feeling his hands cup her face once again. Her head tilted involuntarily, as she craved more of his touch, and decided that her hands would better be suited cupping the back of his head to bring him closer. "You want more, don't you, Scully?" he whispered. "Tell me." "I'd rather show you, Mulder. If you let me." Her hips swayed seductively, brushing against the front of his jeans. She smiled in pleasure as Mulder's head tilted forward, as though he had lost control of his balance. They eyed each other piercingly, and Mulder could do nothing to suppress the moan that escaped from his lips as he watched her eyes close and her lips open slightly. In this moment in time, they shed their statuses as FBI agents, as partners, as close friends and as confidantes. For now, it was Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. Fox Mulder was a man. Dana Scully was a woman. And that was all that counted. The heat they could feel pulsing through their veins was one that neither had ever experienced. It was partially the alcohol, it was partially the atmosphere. The heavy bass, the strobe lights, the other couples recklessly grinding against each other without reservations with only their pleasure in mind. Mulder was having a hard time breathing. The front portion of his jeans was becoming extremely confining, but he couldn't figure out why. Instead, he wanted the senses to be heightened and his hand, on their own volition, yanked Scully by the waist even closer. Her lithe body felt damn good and again he wanted more. Scully had always acknowledged that Mulder was a good-looking man. Some might even recall her calling him cute, but through her eyes right now, he looked dangerously delicious. And the last threads to sanity finally gave in to primordial lust. He kisses her face ever so lightly, but his urgency quickly builds. Scully is left with no doubt she wants him as much as he does her. Her arms move again, to cup the nape of his neck and bring him closer. His lips feather over hers, over and over again, savoring the shivers she emits, while all the while trying to restrain himself. He knows that the longer he prolongs this, the more gratifying it will be for him and her. Another brief touch, and her mouth opens beneath his. He feels her warm breath, like an invitation to come inside and he deepens it, so that their lips part and dance with each other. Impatiently, she pushes her tongue past his lips and his low moan is lost within the caverns of her mouth. She suddenly feels giddy with power. She starts exploring his mouth in earnest, but the flames are suddenly stoked when his tongue decides to become participative as well. Tongues slip against each other, mouths suckle hungrily. All the while, their bodies are still pressed against each other, still swaying to the beat of the music around them. His hands move again. One to her nape, the other to tangle in her hair. They become impossibly close, and he can feel her nipples harden against the thin cotton of his shirt, while she feels his erection pressing against her arrogantly. The heat from her center takes her by surprise. She gasps when it shouts out to her how aroused she's become and she breaks their kiss, to raise her head and look at him. His eyes are still closed, not at all angry she broke contact, because he contents himself with kissing and nipping at her exposed throat. His hands move down to her hips, his thumbs making slow and lazy circles as he finally opens his eyes to give her a seductive stare, and an all-knowing smile that says he knows what she likes. He looks down between them, to see her hips pressed against his groin, rubbing sensuously. "I know what you want, Scully," he whispers. And before she can even reply, he presses one leg between hers and lets her do what she wants. The contact sends her head spinning, and her orgasm is fierce and total. The music drowns out her guttural moan, as does Mulder's mouth, clamping over hers as his tongue thrusts inside once again, as if by doing so, he can experience her orgasm as well. He rides it out with her, and she feels a devilish and proud grin on his lips as they continue kissing. "Tell me I'm a good boy, Scully," he whispers. All she can do is nod, and something else. Her hand moves between them and she coyly tugs his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, pressing her fingers against his belly, hidden from the eyes of prodding voyeurs under his shirt. Her nails scratch lights over his abdominal muscles, feeling them contract and harden, before she dips her fingers lower. A delicate eyebrow arches. "No boxers for you tonight, Mulder?" He nods imperceptibly. "Or briefs, as long as you're asking." "Good timing," she whispers back huskily, just as she surrounds his hardness. It's his turn to gasp now. He takes her completely into his arms, a small voice still warning they're in public, but the self-same voice consenting because they're in a dark corner, and no one bothers to watch them. Everyone else is going through the same thing. He's almost gasping now, as he feels her fingers move over him, from the base to the shaft of his arousal, over and over again. She feels that he's almost over the edge, the throbbing in her hand becoming more pronounced, and from the way Mulder clutches at her. He comes suddenly, forcefully. His hips almost buck, but he grits his teeth and closes his eyes. He feels her gently pull her hand out, and her arms frame his neck again. His breathing is till ragged as she smiles at him. "You're good, Mulder. But I'm better." He slumps against the wall, mouth agape at what's just happened. He pulls Scully back to between his legs, and makes her rest against his chest. "That was some show, Scully," he mutters. She frowns, only then starting to come out of her drunken state to realize what she and Mulder have just done. Her eyes widen bit by bit, a blow-by-blow recollection in the form of flashbacks. At her and Mulder's wanton behavior. A flush creeps up her cheeks, to join the flush of afterglow and she whirls around to look at Mulder. "Uh-oh," he mutters, as he sees the indignation on her face. He figures they came out of the drunken stupor at about the same time. "Hey, Mike!" Mulder calls, gulping in air, anxious to postpone what will surely be a verbal and physical tirade from his partner. "Where'd those two guys I pointed out to you go?" "They left an hour ago, Mulder. WOO HOO!!" he yells, winking at them both before moving to the cashier. Mulder was out the door before Scully even had a chance to close her mouth. ----------------------------------- The End