She was drunk. Incredibly so. But that's what two bottles of wine on an empty stomach does to a woman. Especially one as tiny as Dana Scully.
She'd never been this drunk before. Scratch that, yes she had. She'd passed out on the bar after Missy broke up with another one of her boyfriends back in college.
Dana Scully + tequila did not end well.
Dana Scully + wine, however, was a different story, Scully smiled lopsidedly.
Come to think of it, she didn't think the vast amount of deep red liquid she'd just consumed could constitute as wine. It cost less than toilet paper, and apparently, sober Scully thought that was a good idea.
But it did the trick, Scully mused as she emptied the last of the bottle into her mouth and throwing it across the floor. You could tell it was cheap as the bottle was made from plastic and bounced across the dingy tile floor. Scully had just been drinking from the bottle for the past bottle and a half, having given up on the dumb plastic cup hours ago.
She could feel her eyelids droop but she wasn't sure if that was because she'd drunk two bottles of drain cleaner masquerading as wine, or because she'd been on her feet for 14 hours straight. Probably both.
And why?
Fox Bloody Mulder. That was why.
Once again she'd willingly followed him to some random, crappy town in the middle of nowhere, chased down 'monsters' and stayed in the most disgusting motel known to man. Seriously, even the cockroaches avoided this place.
And why?
Because she'd go to the ends of the earth for him. And not just because he was her partner. Because she was stupidly, head-over-heals in love with him!
And how did he thank her?
By gawking at the dumb blonde detective with giant boobs and legs longer than Scully herself.
Scully looked down at her own legs and realised she was still in the bath. The bubbles had more or less disappeared and the water was only lukewarm now.
She pouted. She didn't have supermodel legs or big boobs. And she wasn't dumb and blonde.
Ok, maybe she was dumb, because she was highly intoxicated on cheap wine, in a dingy motel, whilst sitting in a bathtub full of water.
Stupid Mulder! This was all his fault! The cheap wine was his fault. Her foul mood was his fault. The walls spinning and defying the laws of physics was his fault. The bathwater going cold was his fault. The God awful hangover she was going to have in the morning was his fault. War was his fault. Famine was his fault. Everything was his fault and yet she still bloody loved him!
That was his fault too!
The water was getting colder and colder by the second and Scully figured she'd better get out of the bath before she either a) passed out and drowned or b) froze to death or c) all of the above.
As she clumsily made to get up, the water sloshed over the side of the tub and made it even harder to get out.
She couldn't even see properly so getting out of the bathtub was going to be an almighty challenge. Scully tried again, but her hand slipped and she found herself still sitting in the rapidly cooling water.
Stuck. She was stuck. She was a fully grown, independent woman who had managed to get so blindingly drunk that she had forgotten how to get out of the bathtub.
Also, Mulder's fault.
Her fingers and toes had started to wrinkle, which, in her current state, Scully found hilarious.
After she had finished laughing at her Granny like finger's, Scully pouted, trying to formulate a plan on how to get out of the bath. But all she could think about was Mulder.
His goofy grin.
His beautiful, warm eyes.
His muscular arms.
His toned abs.
His cute little butt.
His soft, inviting lips.
His lips on hers.
Scully sighed angrily and splashed some water, very much the way a child would do.
She was now sitting in a tub full of cold water with no way out. And to make things worse, she needed to pee. And puke.
Before she knew it, Scully was banging on the paper thin walls, shouting Mulder's name and crying for help. She could her the muffled sound of the TV and the low hum of the beds magic fingers and Mulder's slight moans.
"Mulderrrrrrr!" She shouted, banging her fist against the wall.
"Scully?" She heard Mulder say as the TV shut off.
"I need your help!" She slurred. "I can't get out the tub! I'm stuck!"
There was some shuffling, the bang of the door shutting, the click of her front door opening and then the knocking on the bathroom door.
"Scully? You okay? Do you need help?"
"Yes! I'm stuck!"
"Did you fall?"
Yes, in love with you. Dumbass.
"What do you care? Just help me!"
With that, Mulder pushed open the door and as soon as he set eyes on Scully, he immediately snapped them shut.
"Jesus, Scully! Are you drunk?!" He asked, tripping over an empty wine bottle.
"No! I just forgot how to get out of the bath on my own accord!" Scully quipped sarcastically.
Mulder, still covering his eyes with one hand, held out his other for Scully to grab on to. Only his free hand was nowhere near Scully and he was facing the wrong way.
"Are you drunk too?" Scully asked.
"No!"
"Then why are you holding your hand out to the toilet?!"
"Because- wait, what?" Mulder said, sneaking a quick look and realising he had his back to Scully. "Sorry" he mumbled, turning around to face her and feeling a cold, wet hand grip his arm. "Jesus Scully, you're freezing!" He said, pulling her up.
As Scully stepped over the bath, her foot came into contact with the bottle which rolled, causing Scully to land on the cold tiled floor with a thump.
"Ooowwww!" Scully pouted.
Again, Mulder's fault.
"Crap! Are you okay Scully?!" Mulder asked, grabbing a towel and handing it to Scully as he crouched down beside her.
"That wine is better than I thought" Scully smiled, ignoring the towel that Mulder was using to shield his view of her nakedness.
"Oh God"
"Y'know" Scully slurred, tapping Mulder's stubbly cheek as he pulled her up. "This is all your fault!"
"You getting blind drunk on cheap wine is my fault?!" Mulder laughed and Scully nodded. "Well how dya figure that?" He asked as he led, or dragged, Scully out of the bedroom.
"Because you're Fox Mulder" she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You like dumb blonde women with bigger boobs than IQ"
"Okaaaaay?" Mulder scoffed as Scully flopped down on her bed, her towel coming undone in the process. "Dammit, Sculllyyyyy" Mulder shut his eyes and pointed towards her towel.
"Sorry I'm not blonde and don't have supermodel legs!" Scully mumbled.
Oh good lord she was testing him tonight.
"Scully" Mulder sighed as he sat down next to Scully.
The ceiling was spinning and it was making her stomach turn.
Stupid bloody Mulder and his stupid bloody Elle McPhereson wannabe.
"Nothing happened between me and Detective Ryan"
"Sure" Scully groaned.
"Dana, I promise you, nothing happened" Mulder said in a serious tone.
Oh God.
Scully turned in the opposite direction of Mulder and vomited all over the bed. Even Mulder had to admit that the dark red vomit spruced the place up a bit.
"I don't feel so good" Scully groaned again as she dashed to the bathroom and vomited again. She felt Mulder hold back her damp, wavy hair as she threw up what looked and felt like more wine than she remembered drinking.
Suddenly, she was floating. Was she dead? Was she on her way to heaven?
Oh no wait, Mulder had scooped her up into his arms and was carrying her out of her motel room and into his.
"You made me throw up" Scully slurred as she snaked her hands around his neck and rested her head on his chest.
"I know, and I'm sorry" Mulder said sweetly, pulling Scully's door shut.
"You made me hurt" Scully sighed sadly as Mulder plopped her down on his bed, handing her the plastic trash can as he turned to look for one of his t-shirts for her to sleep in.
"Did you hurt your leg when you fell?" Mulder asked.
"Not my leg. You hurt my heart"
"Oh Scully, I'm so, so sorry" Mulder sighed as he handed her his Nicks jersey.
"Its your fault if I puke on this" Scully laughed as she failed to get her head through the right hole. "...Mulder, I'm stuck again"
Mulder turned to face her and chuckled as he saw she'd stuck her head through the arm hole.
"C'mere" Mulder laughed as he helped her get the t-shirt on properly.
"Mulder this isn't my bed" Scully looked confused as Mulder settled her under the covers.
"I know. You puked on yours so you can have mine"
Scully then went on to imply the dirty meaning of sleeping in Mulder's bed, and he told her that he would sleep on the floor.
"I love you, y'know" she sighs dreamily as she snuggles down into Mulder's bed.
"You're drunk" he replies, trying to get comfortable on the smelly floor.
"I know that" she answers, throwing down a pillow for Mulder. "But I still very much love you"
"Scully stop" Mulder sighs, folding the pillow in half before laying his head down. "You're going to regret saying all this in the morning"
"Not as much as I have regretted not telling you for years" Scully yawns, her eyes drooping and finally losing the battle and succumbing to sleep.
"I love you too" Mulder replies, but Scully doesn't hear him. Her soft snores are already filling the room.
This was just something dumb I wrote. I hope you liked it, please review. Thank youuuu:)