Hey everyone! Jenni here. People keep asking me for a sequel to this, and I don't know if it's going to happen. I'm becoming piled with homework and, really, the next time I'm going to have any time whatsoever to write is May 2, and I have a job interview that morning. So, for the sequel, things are up in the air. I do think I'll write one, it's just not going to come out anytime soon. Sorry. But other than that, I'm really happy with all of the positive comments. Thanks to all the reviewers!
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Not Doing That Again
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Dana Scully's Apartment
Washington, D.C.
2:43 AM (Scully's POV)
BRRIINGG!
BRRIINGG!
BRRI--
"Hello?" I say groggily into the receiver. I look over at the clock. 2:43 a.m. Shit.
"Scully?" the word was slurred into the phone.
"Mulder? Do you know what time it is?" I rub my temple in agitation.
"Umm... nope 'hic' I can't read the clock, the numbers keep moving."
I can almost see Mulder squinting to read a clock, bottles of some type of alcohol lying next to him, empty. I sigh.
"Where are you, Mulder?"
"Um..." I hear the telephone move and a hand come down on the receiver. A muffled "Where am I?" comes through and then a slight rush of air as the phone is moved.
"Sorry, my name's Barry. Your friend here isn't in pretty shape. He's at Barry's Pub. It's a block down from the Hoover Building."
"Thank you, sir. I'll be there soon." A dial tone comes over the phone and I hang up. I shrug the covers off my body and head to the dresser and start getting dressed.
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6 Hours Earlier
(Mulder's POV)
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Skinner continued to chew me out.
"What the hell were you thinking, Mulder?! Innocent people could've been hurt by your incompetence! What the HELL was going on in that pea sized brain of yours?!"
"Um..."
"I don't want to hear your sorry-assed excuse! Get out of my sight!" Skinner turns his back towards me. I open the wooden door that leads into the hallway. I hear Skinner mumble "sorry-assed excuse for an agent.." as I close the door.
God, I'm *not* doing that again. I sigh and walk to the elevator. Pressing the down button, I silently scream at it to hurry up. The doors open with a 'ding' and Scully walks out.
"You looked beat, Mulder. Skinner chew you out that bad?" I nod and walk onto the elevator.
"See you on Monday, Scully."
"Okay, Mulder. See you Monday."
The doors close and I lean up against the cold metal wall. The elevator jerks to a stop at the basement floor and I head to the small office where the X-files are based. Opening the door, I reach around and grab my coat. Closing the door, I decide that I'm paying a visit to Barry's.
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Present Time
Barry's Pub
(Mulder's POV)
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One bottle, two bottles, three bottles... bottles.. he he... funny word. I slowly pick the label off another Budweiser bottle and watch the letters spin in an amazingly cool fashion. I close my eyes.. the letters were starting to make me sick.
God, I'm going to have a _really_ bad hangover in the morning
"Hic"
I hear the bells on the door jingle as someone walks into the bar. I turn slowly and see a twisting image of Scully in jeans and a tee-shirt, the red of her hair and the blue of her jeans twisting together.
"Cooool" I try to stand up, but my legs don't follow my brain's signal. Scully walks towards me, anger clearly written on her face.
"Mulder, so help me God.." she grabs my arm and my coat hanging over the back of the chair.
"Mulder, stand, stay, don't move." I follow her directions to the word, except for the swaying, I kinda can't stop that. I hear Scully ask Barry, the bartender, for my car keys. The clink of them landing on the wooden bar is quiet to my booze soaked head. I feel her hand tighten on my arm and jerk me towards the door. Only thing is, I don't move.
"Mulder, come on."
"I can't."
"Why, Mulder?"
"You told me to not 'hic' move."
"Mulder, move!" she yanks on my arm again and I follow her out of the building. I slip my arm out of her tight grasp and walk/wobble towards the driver's door of her car. I reach for the door handle and miss. I try again... and miss once more.
(Scully's POV)
I put my hand over my mouth, stifling the laugh that threatens to come out at the sight of Mulder reaching again and again for the car doors handle. I swallow my laughter and nudge Mulder out of the way. This small action sends him crashing onto his ass. A small laugh comes out of my mouth, but I stop before any more can come out. I lean over and help Mulder up.
"I think you might want to drink less next time you have a bad day, eh Mulder?"
"Yup 'hic'."
I laugh. I can't help it. Seeing my usually composed partner reduced to hiccups and such a thoroughly boozed state is FUNNY! I get a crossed-eyed "Look" from Mulder, which is funnier than it is threatening. I grab his arm and slowly walk him around the car to the passenger side door. I open it and let Mulder in, making sure he doesn't kill himself in the process. He hits his head on the car frame, but doesn't seem to notice. This is going to be a long drive.
(Mulder's POV)
I hit my head. Ow. Oh well.
I reach for the seat buckle and luckily I manage to get it in one go. Scully opens her door and gets her seatbelt buckled. As the car starts to move forward, a sputter comes from the engine and it dies.
"Oh, shit." Scully swears under her breath as she tries to get the engine to turn over, but is very much unsuccessful.
"He, he, he, he, he." I start laughing, but my humor is rewarded with the dreaded "Look". Gulp.
he, he, he, he, he, he, he, he, he... I laugh in the inside of my head instead, and Scully doesn't seem to notice the big grin on my face. Why is it that most bad luck seems hilariously funny when you're drunker than a Scotsmen? I decide to ask Scully.
"Scully..."
"Mulder, SHUT. UP."
"But, Scully..."
"I *said* shut up."
Damn. I'll have to ask her later... what was I going to ask her? Never mind. Scully smacks the steering wheel, unbuckles her seatbelt and climbs out of the car. I see her muttering as she walks in front of the car.
"Mulder, pop the hood, would you?"
(Scully's POV)
"Mulder, pop the hood, would you?"
Mulder nods enthusiastically from the passenger side door. He reaches for one of the many buttons and levers.
"No, Mulder, that's the..."
The alarm turns on and reverberates through the empty street and I hear a garbage can crash from an alleyway next to the bar.
"...alarm."
Mulder reaches for another one and I'm suddenly blinded by the high beams.
"Whoops. Sorry, Scully!" Mulder yells over the still blaring alarm. The light's switch off and on his next attempt he manages to hit the switch that turns off the alarm. He reaches again, and the sunroof opens, the trunk springs up, and windshield wiper fluid sprays onto the windshield and is soon squeegeed away by the wiper blades. Sighing, I leave from the front of the car and open the door.
"It's this one, Mulder." I say, flicking the right lever that opens the hood of the car. Mulder smiles sheepishly at me as I turn to start work on the engine. This should take no time.
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30 Minutes later
(Mulder's POV)
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One swear word, two swear words, three swear words... poor Scully. Scully's been working on the engine for the past thirty minutes and hasn't gotten anywhere. The bar closed at 3:30 and now it's almost 3:45 and help won't be coming soon.
"Fucking, smart assed engine. Why the hell won't you start working? Piece of shit..." I hear Scully muttering as the clank of the repair kit she found in her trunk hits parts of the engine, urging it to start.
"Hey, Scully? Want me to give you a hand?"
"No, Mulder. I don't want you to give me a hand. You're not even up to standing, much less working on a complex piece of machin...shit!"
(Scully's POV)
The engine got oil all over my favorite tee-shirt. Fuck the damn thing. I hear the car door open and the unsteady steps of Mulder as he heads over in my direction.
"Mulder, get back in the car."
"Nope. I'm going to 'hic' help you fix it." Mulder comes and stands next to me, smirking at the oil stain recently given to me by the damn thing. He rolls his white shirt sleeves above his elbows, somewhat sloppily. Pushing me out of the way, he squints into the engine and reaches a lightly wavering hand out, and gives the engine a good whap. To my complete and utter amazement, the engine coughs, sputters and jumps to life.
"Mulder, how? What?"
"It always works on the TV." he shrugs. I pack up the various tools lying around and put them back into the trunk. Still in shock at what Mulder was able to accomplish, drunk, in one move that had been tormenting me for the last half hour. I huff as I start driving. Mulder rolls down the car window and sticks his head out, letting the wind blow through his hair. I pull him back in and close the window.
"Don't DO that, Mulder. You could get killed."
"Awww, you're no fun, Scully."
"No, I'm not."
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Mulder's Apartment
4:23 AM
(Mulder POV)
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Scully pulls me up the stairs, very much pissed. The engine had killed her shirt and when I gave it my patented 'Mulder-whack' and brought it back, she got even madder. Hell, she wouldn't even let me ride with my head out of the window. Hurumph.
"Okay, Mulder. We're at your apartment. Get in and go to sleep." I wave goodbye at her and she glares at me in response. As I close the door, I hear her mutter "Hope he has a killer hangover in the morning." And I'm pretty sure she'll be pleased when I wake up.
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Next week
Mulder's Apartment
Washington, D.C.
1:56 AM
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BRRINNG!
BRRINNG!
BRRINNG!
"Coming!"
BRRIN-
"Mulder."
"Mulder, I need you to 'hic' pick me up."
Oh, God.
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----------THE END----------
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Thanks to the reviewers! Angelofcloud9 (glad you got a laugh out of this) Dana-Mulder-1013 (you're the one who convinced me to even think about writing a sequel and I hope the librarian didn't get too mad), Laurie (glad you liked this as well) IrishRavenX (glad you liked the ending. It's probably my second favorite part of this, first being the car scene)
The sequel will be started/worked on during my free time in between high school, "Child of the Moon", my clarinet, and my job. Adios, amigos!
Started on: August 8, 2000; Completed on: August 9, 2000; Posted on: August 12, 2000.