TITLE:		Par-tay (1/1)
AUTHOR:		Avalon	
EMAIL:		avalon@fuse.net	
CATEGORY:	SMSRH, IWTB Birthday Party Challenge
		fic (look!  A new genre!)
RATING:		R for language and sexy material
SPOILERS:	Set sometime in season 7, I guess...the
		events of season 8 have not transpired.
		Some knowledge of the IWTB list is 
		vital to the enjoyment of this story.
DISCLAIMER:	Mulder, Scully, Skinner, and the Gunmen
		are not mine.  The other characters that
		appear here are also fictional...they just
		have really familiar names, and possibly
		some familiar personality traits.  No
		infringement intended.
FEEDBACK:	Please!  You know the drill.
ARCHIVES:  	Exclusively for my site and IWTB.  I really
		don't think anyone else would want it...but
		if you are desperate for material, send me 
		an email and I'll let you know.
SUMMARY:	Mulder gets called to a party at Scully's.
AUTHOR'S
NOTES:		This is my answer to ga's Birthday Challenge
		on the IWTB list.  Challenge elements appear 
		at the end of the story.  

		This fic is lovingly dedicated to the members
		of I Want To Believe.  I hope it is enjoyed by 
		all as much as I enjoy all of you.  I tried my
		very best to include as many people as I could
		in this story.  Please remember this is written
		in love and fun.  


Par-tay (1/1)


Ringing.  Right next to my ear.

I groan and slap at the offending sound, my sleep-muddied 
mind thinking the noise is the alarm clock on my 
nightstand.  I hit the snooze button just like I do every 
morning, rolling onto my back to catch another five 
minutes in a dreamland populated by tiny, pumps-wearing, 
red-haired doctor-agents before I finally haul my ass up to 
hit the shower.  The ringing continues, and I start to realize 
it isn't my alarm clock.  I grab my cell phone that sits next 
to my watch and bring it to my ear, fumbling for the lamp 
as I do.  The digital red numbers tell me it is 11:21 p.m.

"Mulder."  My voice sounds like gravel under the wheels 
of a rusty truck.  I scrub at my chin and try to focus, my 
ears picking up the sound of some eighties tune from 
twenty years past playing across the crackling line.  Damn 
phone.  It hasn't been the same since that Monday I 
overslept.

"Agent Fox Mulder?"  The voice is high, female, one I 
don't recognize.  The only woman's voice that ever greets 
me on my cell phone is Scully's, and this is definitely not 
her.  Besides, her familiar, "Mulder, it's me," always gives 
her away.

"Yes, who's this?"  

"My name is Gail," the caller tells me, and the rest of her 
sentence collapses into muffled giggles.  I blink and shift 
on the bed, uncertain what to think.  I start to say 
something, but then she continues.  "I'm a friend of 
Dana's."

"Dana's?"  I must sound stupid.  I must, because it takes 
me ten seconds after the words come out of my mouth to 
realize that she is talking about Scully.  Dana Scully, my 
partner.

"You're Dana's boyfriend, aren't you?"  More giggles, and 
I think I can hear other whispered voices in the 
background.

I clear my throat, pointedly ignoring that question.  After so 
many years, I am a master at sidestepping that issue.  "Gail, 
is it?  Gail, are you with Dana?  Is something the matter?"  
I try to concentrate.  Something is nagging at my mind, 
something that Scully mentioned earlier today at the office.  
Something about her plans for the evening...

A new voice cuts into the conversation, and I realize 
someone must have picked up an extension.  "You better 
get down here, Foxy," this woman says, the laughter 
bubbling up out of her.  

"What?  Who is this?"

"Char," she titters in my ear, and I groan inwardly, 
suddenly remembering:  Scully was getting together this 
weekend with her old college girlfriends.  They were 
having a party, a celebration that took place in a different 
city each year, and this time, they were all converging on 
D.C.   Scully had been excited about it all week, planning 
the whole event, chattering excitedly about all her old 
friends.  And this name, Char, rings a bell in my memory.

"You're--" I start to say, but she cuts me off.

"Dana's old roommate.  That's right, Foxy.  Well, she told 
me you were smart!  I knew I wanted to meet you."  There 
is more laughter from the others in the background.  
"Anyway, I think you better come over here.  Dana's 
feeling a bit sentimental right now, and I think she needs 
you."

"What do you mean, sentimental?"

The first voice cuts back in, the woman named Gail.  "To 
be blunt, she has locked herself in the bedroom and is 
sobbing hysterically."  Gail grunts.  "She always was 
overly dramatic."

"What?"  I am on my feet, grabbing my jeans from their 
spot on the chair and stepping into them.  "What did you do 
to her?" 

I hear a thud, and I realize that someone has dropped a 
phone.  Muffled sounds come through the line, snatches of 
dialogue that sound a little like an argument, and then 
another voice greets me.  This one is lower, richer, more 
melodious than the first two...and definitely drunk.  "Fox, 
this is Paige," she tells me, and my head starts to spin, 
trying to keep track of all the names, searching my brain to 
remember any snippets that Scully may have told me about 
these women.  "As the designated mommy of this group, I 
am ordering you to come down here immediately!  Oh, 
goody!"  Her voice fades away, but I can still hear her. 
"The stripper is here!"

"Stripper!"  I yell.  I am shrugging into a shirt, trying my 
damndest to button it correctly while balancing the phone 
on my shoulder.  

"Ooooo, and you should see him, Fox."  This voice is also 
new, replacing Char's.  "He's really cute."

"And who is this?"  I demand, stabbing my feet into my 
shoes and grabbing my car keys as I head for the door.

"This is Peggy.  But don't worry, honey.  I won't let Dana 
watch him.  I'll keep her in the bedroom with me.  I 
wouldn't want to corrupt her."

"Peggy, we're going to corrupt * you *!"  Another 
laughing voice comes on the line, taking up the place where 
Paige was before.  "This is Kimberly.  Sorry, Fox, I had to 
lead Paige away from the phone.  She thinks she is the 
mother of this group..." she drops her voice a little, as if 
bestowing a terrific confidence on me. "...but really, it's 
me."

"Kimberly, you sound reasonable."  I am already in my 
elevator, watching the numbers speed by.  "Can you please 
tell me what's wrong with Dana?"

"Oh, Fox, I'm sure she'll be fine just as soon as you get 
here."  There is a smile in her tone, and I draw a deeper 
breath, somehow relieved.  "Besides, we're having a great 
party.  We even invited some of the other people in Dana's 
address book."

I feel all the color drain out of my face.  "What?"

A slurring voice interrupts her.  "Thass right, Foxy!  We 
invited Walter, and those three guys Dana calls the 
Stooges.  I can't wait to meet 'em!"  

"Kimberly, who was that?" I ask, hearing the telephone 
plunk down again.  

"Tam.  She's on her eighth B52.  Just ignore her."

"Jesus.  I'll be right over."  I disconnect and dash to my car.

*****

Scully's apartment door is open a crack when I arrive, and 
it is all I can do to push my way into the crowded room.  
Frankie Goes to Hollywood is cranking from the stereo, 
and over by the fireplace, several women are grinding in a 
sweaty tangle of bodies, beer bottles and cocktail glasses 
clutched in their fists.  Every piece of furniture is covered 
with women, and the smell of booze and party food assaults 
my senses.  I move cautiously forward and bump right into 
a woman with long, dark hair.  She spins around and looks 
at me, and her eyes widen along with her smile.

"Foxy!" she screams, and almost everyone in the room 
turns to look at us.  She throws her arms around my neck 
and hugs me, practically choking me.  "I'm Paige, dah-ling!  
So glad you came!  We've been dying to meet you!  Come 
on, let me introduce you to everyone!"  She pulls me by the 
hand into the kitchen, where a small knot of women are 
gathered.

She points to a woman bent over the stove.  "That's Angel.  
She's making some of her delicious chocolate-covered 
Oreos for us all."  The cook smiles and waggles candy-
coated fingers at me.  "And that's Rose.  She's reading 
Marie's Tarot cards."  Both of these women smile, too, and 
drop their eyes back to the spread on the table in front of 
them.  Paige leans into me and lowers her voice 
conspiratorially.  "As if Rose doesn't already know 
everything about Marie!  They've been friends for years.  
Some psychic!"  I suppress a grin.  Paige gestures toward 
another woman by the sink, engrossed in the business of 
mixing a drink.  "And that's Kimberly.  She's making 
another martini for me. Isn't she a doll?"  Kimberly rolls 
her eyes and grins good-naturedly.

I feel someone sidle up behind me, someone who rubs 
herself against my back.  I jump, startled, turning to see 
who it is.  

The woman in front of me buries her face in my neck, 
sniffing madly.  I put my hands on her shoulders and try to 
push her away, confused and oddly aroused at the same 
time.  I open my mouth to speak when I see something 
small and chocolate sail past my head and hit the woman 
squarely in the chest.  A voice comes from behind me:  
"Christ, Char, leave him alone!  He's Dana's!"

The sniffer laughs and steps forward again, undaunted by 
the Devil Dog thrown to slow her advances.  "I know, Rae!  
I know!  I just want to see what he smells like!"  Char grabs 
me by the collar and pulls me down to her face.  She closes 
her eyes and inhales deeply, and a smile breaks.  "Oh, you 
smell good, Foxy!  Like leather and musk and bed sheets."  
She opens her eyes.  "Did we wake you up?"

I ignore her question, wondering how it is that she can get 
into my head so easily.  I look back at Paige.  She has 
crossed to the table, where she extracts a balloon from a 
package.  She takes it to the sink and starts filling it with 
water.  "Anyone for a water-balloon fight?" she shouts.

"Hey, everyone!"  A breathless woman runs into the 
kitchen, her eyes wild.  "The stripper is ready to start.  
Come on!"  A cheer rises from the lot of them, and Paige 
drops her balloon, pushing past the messenger.

"I'm Julie," she says to me.  "Are you here to see Dana?"  
The rest of the women move into the living room

I nod.  "Is she in the bedroom?"

"Yup.  Although I gotta warn you: it's not pretty."

I feel my brow furrow.  I have never seen Scully drunk, 
unless you count that night in Hollywood when Skinner 
gave us the credit card and ordered us to have a good time.  
She was a happy drunk that night.  A happy drunk, and a 
horny one.  There was an awful lot of heavy petting going 
on in the back seat of that limo that night, but we both 
passed out before anything really meaningful could happen.

I feel my cock stir in my pants.  Down, Mulder.  This isn't 
the time, and it certainly isn't the place.

"What happened, Julie?"

She shrugs. "We were just playing a drinking game.  You 
know, a little Truth or Dare.  I guess the truth was a little 
too much for Dana.  She started talking about you, and she 
burst into tears and ran into the bedroom.  Peggy got her to 
open the door and let her in, but she hasn't come out since."

I feel my heart clutch.  Scully's crying about me?  What the 
hell does that mean?

"I'll go talk to her."  I square my shoulders and walk out 
into the living room, just in time to hear Joe Cocker's 
version of "You Can Leave Your Hat On" start thumping 
from the stereo.  A man is posed in front of the fireplace, a 
fedora cocked over one eye.  He is wearing a black tuxedo 
jacket with tails, and his bare chest gleams in the light.  He 
starts his gyrations, reaching up to remove the bow tie from 
around his neck, moving with the beat and thrusting his 
pelvis near every approving face.  He stops in front of 
Paige to let her tuck a dollar bill into his jacket pocket, and 
she throws her head back and whoops.

"Go, Jay bay-bee!  Take it all off!"  Char hollers this from 
her seat on the couch next to Paige, bouncing up and down 
on the cushion for all it's worth.  I start to wonder when she 
will stand up and sniff his neck.

The stripper named Jay notices me walking past, and he 
slides over, blocking my path to the bedroom.  He grins as 
he starts to peel off his jacket, and I feel a blush start across 
my face.  He gets dangerously close to me, wiggling 
around, obviously fishing for a tip.  I flinch as I feel 
someone slap me on the ass, and I frown down at another 
woman sitting next to Char on the couch.  

"Give him something for his trouble, Fox!"  She laughs up 
at me, and I recognize her voice from the telephone.  Gail.

I shake my head at her, and then double my efforts, shaking 
it even more vigorously at him.  He smiles again, tosses his 
tuxedo jacket to me, and moves away, shaking his butt at 
me as he does.  I throw the coat to Char, and she 
immediately buries her nose in it. 

I practically run down the hallway to Scully's bedroom. 

I try the doorknob, but it won't turn, so I knock on the door, 
pressing myself against it in an effort to hear better.  
"Scully?  Scully, it's me.  Open the door."

I am rewarded by the turning of the deadbolt, and a woman 
I don't recognize pokes her head out.  "Are you Fox?" she 
asks, her eyes darting around suspiciously.

I nod, and she pushes the door open wider so I can enter.  
"I'm Peggy," she tells me as I step into Scully's bedroom.  
"I'm really glad you're here."

"How bad is she?"  My anxiety kicks up a notch.  The 
bedroom is pitch-black except for a pinpoint of light from 
one small candle burning on Scully's dresser.  I can see a 
small form huddled beneath the covers on the bed, her back 
to me, and I can hear the distinctive sound of Scully's 
sniffles from across the room.

Peggy shrugs in answer to my question.  "I don't know, 
Fox.  All I know is that it's time for the reruns of Babylon 5 
to start, and I'm going in the other room to watch.  You 
take care of her."  She slides the door shut on her way out.

I approach the side of the bed where Scully is curled up and 
crouch down next to her.  Her eyes are closed, and the 
tracks of her tears are running her make-up.  She smells 
like beer and cigarette smoke, but she still looks beautiful 
to me.  I reach over and run my fingers through her crimson 
hair.  "Scully, it's me."

Her eyes fly open and lock onto my face.  She lunges at me 
and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me across the 
bed so that I am almost covering her.  The motion surprises 
me, just as her strength does.  "Oh, Mulder!" she moans, 
and her tone of voice makes me hot, not to mention the fact 
that I am now sprawled on top of her on her bed.  But she is 
crying again, and I push up on my elbows.

"Scully, don't cry.  Come on.  Tell me what's wrong.  
What's all this about?"

She shudders for a moment, trying to calm down.  I think 
she's gotten it together, but then she looks at me, and the 
tears start trickling again.  "Oh, I can't tell you!" she cries, 
and she covers her face with her hands.

I pull them away and hold them between us.  "Yes, you 
can.  Come on and tell me, Scully.  No secrets, right?"

She takes a deep breath and nods.  "Well, we were playing 
a game of Truth or Dare."

"Yeah, Julie told me that part."

"Well, it was Rachel's turn..."

I search my mind for a moment.  "I haven't met her yet."

"Well, she asked me if we had made love yet...and...and I 
had to tell the truth, didn't I?"  The tears are starting to flow 
again, and I feel mine start to prick my eyes, realizing what 
she is saying.

"Are...are you saying you want to make love, Scully?"  I 
can hardly believe I am asking this question, and my voice 
is shaking.

Her eyes are intensely blue.  "Yes.  I do want to, Mulder."  
She touches my face with one finger.  "And I'm not 
drunk," she adds.  "I'm a little tipsy, but I am well aware of 
my actions." 

"Oh, Scully."  I kiss her, not just a pansy-assed New Year's 
Eve kiss, but a full-blown proprietory one.  She kisses 
back, starting to move underneath me, and I realize things 
are escalating faster than I expected.  She breaks the kiss, 
panting a little, and whispers, "Mulder, get up and lock the 
door."

I blink at her in the semi-darkness.  "Now, Scully?  With all 
those people here?"

She giggles, sounding just like her friends did over the 
phone.  "Well, it's not like they've never heard me screw 
the daylights out of someone before."

"That is too much information, Agent Scully.  I don't need 
to know that."  I lower my head to kiss her again, but the 
door flies open, the light from the party spilling over us like 
a searchlight hunting an escaped convict.  We both turn our 
heads, squinting into it.

Three silhouettes stand in the doorway, all women.  
"Dana!" one calls as she steps into the room.  "Sorry to 
interrupt, but we need to borrow something from your 
closet."  The other ladies follow her in, and they all 
congregate in front of Scully's wardrobe.

This is enough to set Scully's squirming beneath me, but 
not from lust.  She pushes me off of her and jumps up.  
"Wait a minute, you guys!  I am not letting you borrow my 
clothes."  She snatches a pants suit away from one woman.  
"No way, Tess!  The last time you borrowed something of 
mine, it ended up getting...stained...in a very obvious spot.  
It was ruined."

The other women laugh, and the one called Tess speaks.  
"Come on, Dana.  Mo spilled red wine all over her blouse."  
She points at one of the others, who, in this light, looks like 
she was just shot through the heart at point-blank range.  
"She has to wear something.  All those men will be here 
any minute."

Scully shoves the suit back in the closet and glares at her.  
"What men?"

Mo, the one who looks like a shooting victim, extracts a 
turtleneck sweater from Scully's closet.  "The ones you and 
Fox work with."  She points at the other woman standing 
with them.  "Lara called them and invited them over."

Lara nods.  "I think this party should include everyone you 
work with, Dana.  Not just Fox."

"Besides," Mo interjects, "we want to meet men!"

I see Scully roll her eyes.  "I can't believe you guys!  All 
right!"  She grabs the turtleneck back from Mo and pushes 
a dark-colored t-shirt into her hands.  "You can wear this, 
Mo, in case you decide to have more wine."

"It wasn't my fault.  The pizza man bumped into me."

I sit up, my stomach suddenly growling in response to the 
mention of food.  "You ordered pizza?"

"Yeah, it just came.  Go help yourself."

I push up off the bed and grab Scully's wrist.  "Come on, 
Scully.  Let's eat something."

"You go on, Mulder.  I want to clean up my face a little."  I 
must look apprehensive, because she gives me a little peck 
on the check and an encouraging smile.  "Go on.  They 
won't hurt you out there."

"That's what you think.  Char already tried to inhale me."

She laughs and spins me around, propelling me toward the 
door.  "I'll be right out.  And I want a rain check for our 
little tryst."

"Yes, ma'am."  I peek down the hallway, hoping the 
stripper has finished his show.  It looks clear, so I head for 
the kitchen, following the odor of fresh pizza.  I nearly 
collide with the delivery man.  He steps back, muttering an 
apology, and I spot his name embroidered on his red 
windbreaker:  Brandon.

"What's on the pizza?"  I ask him, trying to see over his 
shoulder.

"Hell, I don't know, man.  I just deliver them."  He waves a 
sales slip at me.  "You the one paying?  I got a bill here for 
a hundred and twenty bucks."

I swallow hard and pat my pockets.  "Sorry.  Not me.  I left 
my wallet at home."

He rolls his eyes.  "Figures."  He turns back to the kitchen, 
where a group of Scully's friends have descended on the 
pizza like vultures on a corpse.  "Hey, ladies, I need 
someone to pay this bill!"

Char's head pops up, and she spots me standing behind 
Brandon.  "Foxy!" she yells, propelling herself forward and 
pushing Brandon in between us.  "Would you be a 
sweetheart and go collect some money for this man?"  She 
smiles winningly at the delivery man and takes his arm, 
drawing him into the kitchen.  "How about a beer while 
you wait, handsome?  I bet you have some interesting 
stories to tell about the delivery business."  I watch as she 
leans into him a little bit more, surreptitiously trying to 
steal a whiff of his neck.

I sigh and wander out into the living room, hoping there 
will be some food left by the time I am finished with this 
assignment.  The space is packed with people, and the 
eighties music has started up again.  Duran Duran pounds 
into my head, whining about The Reflex.  I notice a woman 
by the fireplace, chatting up the stripper.  He is wearing 
nothing but his g-string but doesn't seem the least bit 
embarrassed by that fact.  I turn toward the women seated 
on the couch, engaging my very best smile.

"Ladies," I interrupt, and they all swivel their heads to look 
at me.  "I need to collect some money for the pizza."  I 
realize as they all begin to elbow each other that I haven't 
met any of these women yet.  Jesus, just how many friends 
from college does Scully have?

"Robin, you owe me ten bucks, so give him a twenty," the 
woman in the middle calls to one seated on the arm of the 
sofa.  This one, Robin, puts down her beer bottle and starts 
fishing through the pockets of her jeans.  She stands to do 
this, but her hands come up empty.  

"I don't have any money left, Amanda," she tells the first 
one in an exasperated voice.   She looks pointedly at the 
girl seated next to Amanda.  "Shoshana, you can cover us, 
right?"

Shoshana slams her beer bottle down on the coffee table so 
hard it sloshes up out of the neck and onto her hand.  She 
leaps to her feet.  "Shit, Robin!  I have paid for your entire 
trip!  You can't even pay for some pizza?"

Robin spreads her hands in a gesture of acquiescence.  "I 
gave all my money to the stripper!"

Shoshana digs into the breast pocket of her oversized shirt 
and draws out a wad of cash.  She pushes it into my hands.  
"Here.  Just take what you need."  I smile at her sheepishly 
and count out six twenties.  I hand the rest of it back to her, 
and she sits down again, grabbing her beer.  "I want to 
believe that someday, the rest of you will get jobs," she 
mutters.

The woman sitting on the other side of her puts her arm 
around Shoshana's shoulders and gives her a friendly 
squeeze.  "You're the best, Sho.  Let me give you a hug."

Shoshana hugs her back.  "Thanks, Sallie."

I turn to go back to the kitchen, nearly tripping over the 
woman and Jay, the stripper.  They have moved out into the 
middle of the room, and the girl has pompoms in her hands.  
She is shaking them this way and that, and Jay is imitating 
her, looking like some kind of weird cheerleader for 
Hustler.  I back away, right into another woman, who 
laughs at the stunned expression on my face.

"That's Stephanie.  She's a professional cheerleader, and I 
guess she's teaching Jay a thing or two."  She puts out her 
hand to shake mine.  "I'm Mel, by the way.  You must be 
Fox."

"I must be," I mumble as I take her hand.  "Do you all 
know Jay?"

She laughs again.  "Oh, no.  But we're a friendly bunch.  
And we love men.  By the way, when are your friends 
coming over?"

"I have no idea.  I didn't even know they were coming until 
one of you ladies told me."

As if on cue, the front door opens, and I see Skinner 
standing there, the light glancing off his glasses and shiny 
head.  He scans the scene quickly, sizing up the situation, 
and he spots me.  He starts to push his way across the 
room, but he is swarmed by women.  I can hear Paige's 
voice above the others.

"You must be Dana's boss, the Assistant Director!"  
Skinner begins to answer her, but she cuts him off, taking 
his arm and steering him into the throng of women.  "Let 
me introduce you to everyone!"  He throws me a look, but I 
just smile and shrug at him, heading for the kitchen again.

I find Brandon and hand him his money, which he takes 
and tucks into his pants pocket without even looking at me.  
He is enraptured by another woman, who is seated on 
Scully's counter.  She is speaking in a storyteller's voice, 
weaving a tale that seems to have something to do with 
pasta.   I start to listen, backing up into a small woman 
behind me, who smiles when I step on her foot.

"Sorry," I say, moving away quickly, steadying myself 
with a hand to the table.  

She is sitting in a kitchen chair, a book cracked open in 
front of her.  "It's OK," she laughs.  "I know what a good 
storyteller Amy is.  You can get hooked right into her tales.  
Are you Fox?" 

I nod again, feeling like one of those figurines whose head 
bobs in the windows of cars.  "And you are...?"

"Teresa.  I had to move out into the kitchen so I could get 
some reading done.  I am way behind."

I don't have a chance to ask what kind of reading she is 
doing, because Scully spins into the kitchen at that moment 
with Paige.  She is laughing and talking excitedly, and I 
smile to see her looking so happy.  "He's not married, 
Paige dah-ling," Scully says, and I chuckle, knowing she is 
talking about Skinner.

Paige gives another whoop similar to the one she sounded 
during the stripper's dance.  "Well, let me just say that I am 
worshipping at the Walter Altar, Dana!"  She stops 
suddenly, her head cocked to one side like the RCA 
Victrola dog.  I listen too, trying to get a sense of what she 
is hearing.  A laugh bubbles up out of her, and she grabs 
Scully's hands.  "Listen, Dana!  Do you hear what I hear?"

Scully hops up and down like a frenzied schoolgirl.  
"'Mony Mony!'"she shrieks at the top of her lungs.  I have 
never heard Scully sound like this in my life, and it is kind 
of strange and alluring at the same time.  She turns to me 
and yanks on my sleeve.  "Come on, Mulder.  It's time to 
dance!"

I stumble after her and Paige.  "No, no, Scully," I protest, 
"I can't dance.  I don't dance."  She ignores me, and before 
I know it, she has shoved me across from her on the 
makeshift dance floor in front of the fireplace.  While we 
were in the kitchen, someone moved the couch and the 
tables up against the walls, and the open space is now 
crammed with people, clapping and singing and jumping 
along to the beat.  I watch as Scully starts her own rhythmic 
bouncing along with Paige and her other friends, and I try 
to sway a little as the singer starts to wail:

"Here we come down, say Mony Mony,
Hey!"

"Hey what!" the women scream back.  "Get laid, get 
fucked!"  Scully yells right along with them, pumping her 
fist into the air.  She and Paige look at me, laughing at the 
incredulous expression on my face.  We continue to pogo 
around the floor, the music and the voices swelling into a 
deafening crescendo.

I glance across the knot of dancers in time to see all three 
of the Lone Gunmen come through Scully's front door.  
Byers looks perplexed by the scene, while Frohike and 
Langly just nod and smile in appreciation.  I notice a 
woman trailing after them, and I peel myself away from 
Scully and go over to them.

"Mulder!"  Frohike slaps me on the back.  "Thanks for 
inviting us, man.  Looks like a great party."

"I didn't invite you, Frohike.  Scully's friends did." 

"Any single ladies?"  He rubs his gloved hands together in 
glee. 

"Several."  I eye the woman standing next to Langly, who 
seems oblivious to my silent inquiry.  Finally, Byers 
speaks.

"Mulder, this is Kimpa.  She's doing some artwork for the 
next issue of The Lone Gunman."  

The woman smiles at me.  "Great party," she says.  

I feel a hand on my arm, and Paige has appeared at my 
elbow.  Boy, she sure gets around!  "Foxy!" she hollers, 
and I cringe.  I just can't get used to these women calling 
me that.  "Introduce me to your friends!  Immediately!"

I do, and as I turn to Byers, I notice another new woman 
standing next to him.  "I'm sorry," I say.  "I don't know 
your name."

"It's Jenna."  She hardly looks at me.  Her eyes are on 
Byers, and he seems to have noticed her attentions.  The 
tips of his ears are turning bright pink.  She puts her hand 
into his and shakes it.  "It's nice to meet you, John."

Byers mumbles thickly, his normally articulate exterior 
completely blown to hell, and I watch like an amused 
parent as he follows Jenna to the dance floor.  Several other 
women have wandered over and are chatting up the two 
remaining Gunmen and Kimpa.  Frohike looks especially 
pleased.  I am just about to go into the kitchen to see if 
there is any pizza left when the door to the apartment bursts 
open, and the night comes to a grinding halt.

I can see the flash of badges on a background of dark blue, 
and I groan inwardly.  Cops.  The tall, male one spots me 
next to the door and marches over, followed by his smaller, 
female partner.  I recognize his face from crime scenes, and 
I try to smile.  He doesn't return it.

"Special Agent Fox Mulder."  His hat is pulled so far down 
over his eyes I wonder how he can actually see.  "I 
should've known.  You always seem to find your way to 
trouble."

"Sergeant Stoddard-Hunt.  Nice of you to drop by.  Some 
party, huh?"

He nods.  "Yeah, you could say that.  This your 
apartment?"

"No.  It's my partner's."

I feel a tiny hand snake its fingers through mine, a hand I 
would know anywhere.  Scully appears next to me, eyeing 
the officers.  Stoddard-Hunt looks at her hard.  "Agent 
Scully, this your house?" 

"Yes."

"Well, you're going to have to break up this party."

"The neighbors have all been complaining," his partner 
chimes in.  "We've gotten several complaints down at the 
station."

Scully is just staring at her, and I glance at the officer's 
nametag.  Witts.  She looks young enough to be in bed at 
this hour...of course, I was in bed tonight at nine-thirty.  
Go figure.  But I can hardly believe my ears when Scully 
opens her mouth and says, "Officer, are you even old 
enough to be at a party where alcohol is served?"

The woman bristles and gives Scully an evil glare.  She tilts 
her cap back on her head, pushes past us, and finds the 
stereo controls on the console, shutting off the music with 
an unceremonious twist of her wrist.  An indignant wail 
rises from the dancers in the living room, and I see a few 
heads pop out of the hallway and kitchen.

Witts raises her voice above the din.  "All right, everyone.  
The party's over.  Clear out!."

People start to move toward the one exit, and Scully takes 
up her place next to the door, kissing and hugging and 
chatting as people leave.  All the women hug and kiss me, 
too, calling me Foxy, rubbing their hands playfully through 
my hair, goosing me, sniffing my neck...and I smile at 
them all, because I can't quite believe I have actually had a 
really good time.  

Skinner comes to the door, with Paige and Peggy on each 
arm and Jay, the stripper, trailing right behind him.  At least 
Jay has his pants back on.  Skinner brushes a light kiss on 
Scully's cheek.  "Great party, Agent," he says, his normally 
rough tone softened just a bit.  He shakes my hand, and I 
notice a tiny gleam in his eye.  "Behave yourselves, 
Mulder."

I chuckle.  "I could give you the same piece of advice, sir."  
Peggy blushes, but Paige leans in and lays a sloppy kiss 
somewhere near my lips.  

"Foxy, you're a doll!  Dana is so lucky!"  She squeezes the 
Assistant Director's arm and looks at him with adoring 
eyes.  "But I am feeling lucky tonight, too."  He laughs and 
whisks them out into the hallway.  Jay winks at me and 
follows.

The Lone Gunmen are the last to leave, and Scully closes 
the apartment door behind them, leaning her back against 
it.  She smiles at me as I step in close to her, pressing my 
body up against hers.  "Great party, Agent," I whisper, 
running my lips across her jaw and down her neck.  She 
sighs next to my ear and weaves her fingers into my hair.  

"We can have a party of our own now," she says, and I 
grin, moving my head lower toward her breast.  I nearly 
jump out of my skin when a loud buzz erupts next to me.

"Shit!" Scully squeaks.  She pushes me away and whirls 
around to the call console next to the door.  She presses the 
button.  "Who is it?"

The voice crackles across the line.  "Dana?  It's Bertha.  
D.S. and I are out here freezing our butts off.  Let us in!"

Scully releases the button and looks at me helplessly.  
"Come on.  They are notoriously late, and I can't just make 
them leave without seeing them."  She opens the door and 
leads me down the hallway.  "I had the front door propped 
open so people wouldn't have to buzz in.  I guess someone 
closed it on their way out."

Two women stand shivering on the doorstep, right next to a 
couple of bums who are huddled together on the porch.  
Scully's friends glance at the homeless people and look 
back to Scully.  "Dana, you have some vagrants in front of 
your building," one of them says.

"Hey, I resemble that!"  This voice comes from one of the 
bums.

Scully smiles good-naturedly.  "Shut up and go back to 
sleep, Trajan.  No one is going to bother you and Bad."

"Good."  The man hunkers down again next to his friend.  
"Because I need my beauty sleep."

Scully turns back to her friends.  "Girls, the party is over.  
We got busted, and everyone had to leave."  She takes my 
arm and winds her own through it.  "But at least you can 
meet Fox Mulder, my partner."

One woman extends her hand, and I take it.  "Fox, I'm 
Bertha. It's nice to meet you finally."

"I'm D.S.," the other one tells me, hugging me, and then 
leans in to hug Scully.  "He's cute, Dana," I hear her 
whisper, and I feel a flush start across my cheeks.

"Well, we'll go find the others back at the hotel," Bertha 
says.  She hugs me and gives Scully a peck on the cheek.  
"Call us tomorrow, Dana."  She eyes me a moment and 
smiles.  "But do sleep in, you know.  It's late."  The women 
wave and bounce down to the curb, somehow hailing a cab 
in record time.

Scully and I go back to her apartment.  The silence is 
deafening, and I walk over to the stereo and turn it back on, 
thumbing the volume down to a reasonable level.  The 
eighties hits just keep on coming, and Berlin's "Take My 
Breath Away" plays.  I hold out my hand to my partner and 
she comes willingly into my arms.  I pull her close and 
sway with the song, dropping my head down to press my 
forehead to hers.

"Some party," she murmurs.

"I like your friends," I tell her.  "I always like people who 
think I'm cute."

She chuckles.  "I like them, too."  Her arms tighten around 
my waist.  "But I think I like this even better, Mulder."

"Yeah, me too."  I kiss her, her mouth sensual and inviting 
under mine.  She pulls away and looks at me, her eyes full 
of promise.  "Let's go to bed, Scully."

"OK, but you know what this means, don't you, Mulder?"

I blink at her, suddenly unsure of what she is saying.  "I 
think so."

"If you stay the night, you have to help me clean the 
apartment tomorrow."  She laughs gently at the relieved 
expression on my face.  

"Gladly, Scully.  Anything to get you into bed with me."  
We walk arm and arm to her bedroom, where the candle on 
the dresser keeps its silent vigil.

***End***


Ga's Element Challenge:

1.	A balloon, or something made of latex.  CHECK
2.	A candle.  CHECK
3.	Someone blubbering, with or without
	alcoholic inducement.  CHECK
4.	The truth, a dare, and/or someone on top. 
 	CHECK ALL THREE
5.	A crowded room.  CHECK
6.	A pin and/or a tail (by any other name) 
 	CHECK--Jay is wearing tails.
7.	The phrase "I want to believe" spoken by someone
 	other than Mulder.  CHECK
8.	The names of one or more IWTB members
	CHECK!!!!!

Bonus Elements:  Quotes, paraphrases, or references 
		from five or more XF episodes:
		
1.	Millennium kiss
2.	Mulder the bad tipper
3.	Hollywood A.D.
4.	Monday
5.	It's 11:21 p.m.
6.	"Mulder, it's me."
7.	"Scully, it's me." 


Thanks for reading, everyone.  I hope it was fun for you!  And
please forgive me if you are not mentioned in the story...I did
my very best to include as many people as I could.  I know I will 
have forgotten someone...my apologies, but know that each of you
hold a very special place in my heart.  

See, I don't need alcoholic inducement to blubber!  :)