Summary: Dana Scully and Catherine Willows meet in a bar and talk about relationships. AU fic, X-Files set after 3 of a Kind and the CSI world is current through season 8 (and Catherine is still dating Chris). MSR and GSR.

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine and if CBS wants to come after me, they bring it because I'm having a bad day.

A/N: This was originally a second fic for the Elemental Ficathon (prompt cancer). Special thanks to ddangerlove and junglemag for their editing skills and patience.

Two of a Kind

Walking through the massive winding halls of the MGM, with a lethal combination of hunger, irritation and exhaustion racing through her, Scully stopped in the bar in CraftSteak and have a nice meal and a drink before going back to her room. Or maybe two. She buzzed past the hostess stand merely pointing in the direction of the empty bar, earning herself a slight disinterested nod from the young woman standing there that was eagerly chatting about the latest Paris Hilton sighting.

By heading straight to the bar, Scully didn't have to deal with the awkward pitying glances from the hostess and wait staff. It occurred to her that she found it much simpler to deal with the death and violence of her everyday world, flukemen and freaks included, but there was still something unnerving about a nineteen-year-old supermodel asking when the rest of your party is going to arrive, followed by the eye roll.

With the pick of the entire area, Scully opted for one of the plush barstools directly in the middle of the mahogany and granite bar. Scanning the room looking for a bartender, she was thankful that she had arrived during a slow period. To her, the vacant room meant that there would be no witnesses to her upcoming conversation with her partner, Fox Mulder. It was going to be a frank, detailed discussion of what she planned to do to each of the Lone Gunmen when she got back to D.C.

Scully intently watched as the bartender as he came out of the back and began to mindlessly start his task of setting up the bar for the night. He was about to start cutting limes, when he looked up and Agent Scully, who was staring him down; anxiously taping her finger on the bar caught his attention

"Hey there," he said as he dried his hands," What can I get for you?"

Looking at all of the bottles in front of her, she zeroed in on one. "Tequila. I'll take a shot of tequila," she said pointing to the bottle of Patron.

"Ok, give me a second and I'll cut some fresh lime for your shot," the bartender offered.

Scully shook her head at the young man. "No thanks... don't worry about it. Just the shot please."

With a nod, the bartender brought out a glass and poured the agent her shot. Scully took the tequila and tossed it back like it was second nature, even though the last time she did shots was when she was back at the academy. Scully looked at her empty glass and then back at the bartender, who was ready to ask her order, when she said simply, "Another."

She knew she had to do something to take some of the edge off otherwise it would cut Mulder in two when she called him. Scully tossed back her second shot with equal enthusiasm as the first and feeling a bit more in control, asked for a glass of their finest merlot. When Scully walked in, she had already decided that this entire meal, the entire trip for that matter, was going to be funded by the Lone Gunmen, and she was going to try and make the best of it.

The bartender carefully polished a red wine glass, paying particular attention to the rim of the glass, ensuring that any spots or lipstick from a previous customer was wiped clean. While watching the bartender's show, Scully started to wonder if three shots would have been a better idea. She knew Vegas was all about the show, but she really just wanted her damn drink. Finally, he was satisfied with the glass, he placed it in front of Scully and delicately poured the wine to the proper level, give or take a millimeter.

"Would you like to see a menu?" he asked in his best, bartender trying to get a bigger tip voice.

"Sure," she said, taking a tentative sip of her wine. It was everything that a wine connoisseur would say a perfect merlot is – lush, with hints of sweet black cherries and chocolate – an overall good choice. The wine soothed her nerves a little more, picking up where tequila left off.

The bartender nodded as he pulled a menu out from behind the bar. "Let me know when you're ready to order and I'll take care of you," he said with a wink.

"Thanks," she said, sliding the heavy menu off to the side. She was starting to feel a warm buzz creeping through her and was content to sit for a moment, absorbing her surroundings and enjoying her wine and solitude. With her flight back to DC and the "real world' in the morning, she had the evening entirely to herself, something that was a rarity. She was going to sit and relax, and not concern herself with any late night calls from Mulder wanting her to hop out of bed and autopsy an invisible man or a wolf man. No chupacabras tonight, she thought to herself, taking a healthy drink from her glass. Scully decided that she could wait until morning to call Mulder. The only thing their conversation would accomplish now would be a head start for the Lone Gunman.

As if on cue, Scully's phone began to vibrate on the bar. Glancing down to the cell screen, she inwardly groaned when saw who the caller was.

Mulder.

With a deep cleansing breath and another gulp of wine, she answered the phone with a sharp edge to her voice, leaving no room for misinterpretation as to how pissed she was again, "Scully."

Using the universal signal of waving her nearly empty glass to the bartender for another drink, Scully started in on Mulder, "No! That is not how it happened! … No! I don't care what that little shit told you…"

Taking full advantage of the bartender's attention as he dropped off Scully's wine, Catherine Willows walked up to the bar next to where Scully was sitting, to order a drink.

"First, I'm going to kick Frohike's ass and work my way down."

As Catherine ordered her vodka and tonic, the fiery redhead's side of the conversation intrigued her. She pulled the barstool out, sitting down, trying to stealthily continue her eavesdropping. A show like this usually came with a two-drink minimum, and Catherine didn't want to miss a beat.

"If by serve a purpose you mean the three stooges main mission in life is to irritate the shit out of me, then, yes, they are meeting that goal."

By the time her drink had arrived, Catherine had surmised that the woman on her left was arguing with her husband or partner about their three sons, all of which were in serious trouble. Catherine noticed the lack of a wedding ring on the woman's finger, so she was going with ex-husband.

"No! Mulder! We are going to continue this conversation when I get home!" Scully barked into her phone as she snapped it shut, effectively ending their conversation. She sighed finishing her glass of wine, now keenly aware of the woman sitting next to her and by the way she was looking at her, she had most likely heard her entire conversation. Scully offered a shy smile and nod in her direction before turning her attention back to her now empty wine glass, hoping that her look of acknowledgement would be the beginning and end of their interaction.

Catherine picked up the lemon edge hanging on the edge of her drink and gave it a little squeeze as she dropped it in and looked over to Scully and offered one word. "Men."

Looking slightly confused, and feeling more than a bit warm from the tequila and wine combination that she had consumed, Scully let out a less than eloquent "Huh?"

Pointing to Scully's cell phone on the bar, Catherine repeated her comment. "I couldn't help but over hear you, it sounds like someone got themselves into trouble while you were out here on your trip."

For a fleeting instant, Scully felt completely exposed and self-conscious. She was sitting in the bar of one of Las Vegas' finest restaurants, wearing a perfectly respectable black "all business" pant suit, and this woman next to her was wearing a not so typical fantastic little black dress. Her "neighbor" was a living, breathing advertisement for the concept of Sin City – "What Happens Here, Stays Here." Maybe she is an escort or a showgirl, although she seems a little old for the latter. Adding an additional insult, this woman also seems to be under the misguided notion that she is some soccer mom from the suburbs.

"No, he's my partner," Scully rambled, looking to the bartender for another drink, irritated that she felt like she had to rationalize her conversation to a stranger.

"Your partner? Well, good for you," she continued.

He's my partner at work," Scully answered, silently cursing herself for even getting into the conversation in the first place. Her relationship with Mulder was complicated enough and trying to explain it to a stranger after drinking was damn near impossible.

Quirking an eyebrow up, "Law enforcement?" Catherine asked.

Scully remained silent, trying to assess why this woman was asking her so many damn questions and if there was a way to stop her.

Sensing her hesitation, Catherine answered her own question, "I'm a CSI here in Las Vegas."

Scully politely nodded, "I know a little something about that." She thought for a moment, "So, you must work with Dr. Grissom?"

"I do," Catherine said as she reached for her drink. If it wasn't bad enough that her boyfriend Chris was late, now she had herself stuck in a conversation with a stick in the mud, but what might be possibly worse – a Grissom groupie. Taking a long drink, she gathered the will to continue on. "How do you know Grissom?" she asked with her best fake smile.

"Oh, I don't know him personally. I attended one of his lectures several years ago. He created a fascinating timeline of decomposition using the life stages of the blowfly as a definitive measure."

"Interesting. If you enjoyed that, you should see what he is doing now," Catherine sarcastically added, recalling all of the stings that Grissom and Greg got when they pulled that giant beehive out of their crime scene. Looking over her shoulder, she surveyed the room, checking the people that had started to arrive for their dinner reservations, hoping she would catch a glimpse of Chris.

Scully nodded and tightly pursed her lips, trying to not let out a laugh. She didn't know this woman very well and didn't want to offend her by sharing the fact that although her boss was intelligent and intriguing; his lecture was also dry as the Nevada desert. She actually started to feel a little sorry for the woman. Her panic, while well hidden was still evident. There are few situations more problematic than running into a friend of your boss. Feeling the urge to confess and let the woman off the hook, "Well, truth be told, I nodded off," Scully offered with a guilty smile.

Raising her glass, Catherine said, "Try working with him. Don't get me wrong, the man is fascinating, but staff meetings are murder." She held her hand out to the agent, "My name is Catherine Willows."

Scully shook her hand, "Dana Scully, nice to meet you."

The bartender came back to check on his only customers, "Ladies, can I get you another round?"

They both nodded.

"Ok, how about a starter of our wonderful crab bisque?" The bartender asked as he leaned forward on the bar.

Scully glanced at the novel of a menu that she had set aside earlier. She didn't particularly feel like wading through all of the options and was considering just going with his suggestion.

Catherine leaned in close towards Scully, "If you are thinking about it, go next door to Emeril's – much better."

Considering her new friend was a local, Scully thanked the bartender for his suggestion but politely declined, for the moment she was content with her wine.

"So…" She started before her attention was diverted to her cell phone that was vibrating across the bar again. Picking it up, she turned it to see who the caller was. Mulder. Again. "Is he serious?" She asked herself out loud, clunking the phone back down on the bar without answering it.

Winking, Catherine pointed to the phone vibrating on the bar, "The partner again?"

Scully nodded. "He's making me crazy right now. "

"So…are you two – you know?" Catherine asked wagging her finger back and forth between Scully and the cell phone.

"Who? Us? No. No. We're not. No. We are completely different people. I'm a scientist. I believe that everything that happens has a reasonable explanation, he tends to lean more to the unexplained, or specifically the unexplainable."

"The evidence never lies," Catherine shook her head.

'Exactly!" Scully exclaimed a little too loudly. "But he is one of the most loyal people I know, and he's a great friend. Probably my best friend," Scully quietly told her wine glass.

While listening to this woman talk about her partner, maybe a little too passionately, Catherine couldn't help but think of Grissom and Sara. Scully seems to share Grissom's qualities, the idea that there is no true mystery, just problems that have not yet been solved. Looking at Scully's immaculate demeanor, this woman probably has a hypothesis and theory for every situation. Everything is neat and tidy and in order within the confines of her universe.

"Tell me more about your partner." Taking another drink, she wondered if this Mulder was anything like Sara. Maybe it was because of Sara's ordeal and abrupt departure still being fresh in her mind, but she couldn't help but to compare the couples. The whole thing seemed heartbreaking to her - thinking about all of the time that Grissom and Sara wasted in the shadows, unable or unwilling to share their relationship. After Sara's kidnapping and God knows what in the desert, they were thrust out into the open, only to be blown apart.

Scully thought for a moment, considering Catherine's request carefully. She was trying to select the perfect, most appropriate words to convey the nuances of her complicated relationship with Mulder. Smiling, she started, "Well, he tends to be completely illogical – the scientific theory means nothing to him. But, he's also dedicated, you couldn't ask for a better partner. Absolutely loyal to a fault. Idealistic."

The fact that Scully was smiling as she talked about her partner was not lost on Catherine. She once again fell back into her thoughts. She had a flash of memory when Sara was convinced that her vic had succumbed to spontaneous human combustion and tried to prove it by dressing up a pig in a flannel nightie and giving it a cigarette.

She wondered how she had never seen it before, Grissom and Sara's romance, how could she of all people miss the signs? She was a CSI after all. Looking back though, it all made perfect sense. Grissom starting to lose a little weight and eating healthier. Sara becoming the second most knowledgeable CSI in terms of forensic entomology. Was it as evident to Scully and Mulder's colleagues as it is to her that there is something more than friendship smoldering below the surface?

Catherine focused her attention back on Scully who seemed to be waiting for a response to something that she said. "I take it you don't believe in fishing off the company pier?"

"No. It just makes things too complicated …and weird. Mulder and I are just good friends."

"Uh huh, " Catherine said, not at all convinced. She was curious if the people that worked with Mulder and Scully worried about them, concerned that they were both alone. Did they make up elaborate stories to avoid the setups by well meaning coworkers? Was it as obvious to them as it is to her how much they care about each other or are they just as clueless as she and the boys were with Grissom and Sara? For their sake, she hoped that they could get it together before it was too late.

A hand resting on the small of her back interrupted Catherine's inner musings. "Hey babe. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, just a second, " Catherine stood up and turned to Scully, "It was nice to meet you. Good luck with your partner,' she said with a grin.

As Catherine and Chris walked away, she turned back to look at the agent that had just picked up her cell. No doubt to call her partner and pick up where they left off - and hopefully a little more.