Author's note: I got this story idea from another writer of another fandom, who is far more talented than I will ever be. I thought it was a fun plot to send our Moose and Squirrel to Las Vegas too. This fic is going to be angst-free (I will try my damndest, though I am a sucker, as you all have learned, reading my other stuff). My hope is that this is just funny, fluffy, smut-ridden goodness. Minimal tears. Timeline? I don't even know. Season six-ish? Pre end of season seven for sure, except it's present-day Las Vegas. This is just a bit of a teaser of what is to come. Enjoy!
Bright light city gonna set my soul
Gonna set my soul on fire
Got a whole lot of money that's ready to burn,
So get those stakes up higher
There's a thousand pretty women waitin' out there
And they're all livin' devil may care
And I'm just the devil with love to spare
Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Vegas
-"Viva Las Vegas", Elvis Presley
HOOVER BUILDING
BASEMENT OFFICE
MONDAY – 8:34am
"Wait, what?" said Dana Scully, incredulously.
Scully had just gotten into the office, running a few minutes late thanks to Monday morning traffic. She came in, huffy, annoyed she'd not had coffee yet, and just ready to start the day. When she'd entered their basement office, her partner didn't even greet her. Instead, Mulder immediately began yammering on about some convention.
"ParaCon, Scully," he tossed at her again, as if she were supposed to know what that meant.
"Dare I ask what that means?" she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she hung her coat on the hook of the door and made her way to her desk to sit.
"It stands for 'Paranormal Convention', Scully," Mulder said gleefully. "And it's in Las Vegas this year."
Scully's eyebrow hit her hairline. "Well I guess I can assume what you'll be doing on your vacation then."
"Oh no, no, no, Agent Scully," he returned, enjoying this conversation too much, knowing the protests that were about to rise from her. "You and I will both be going."
She immediately protested. "You must be crazy, Mulder, if you think I am going to waste what few vacation days we do get to go to some gathering of UFO nuts."
"You wound me, Scully," Mulder smirked. "But alas, this one is out of your hands. I've just gotten our travel vouchers approved from Skinner. We leave in the morning."
Scully's mouth hung open, forming a perfect "O". "You mean to tell me that Skinner approved airfare, lodging, and per diem for meals for that?"
"Yes ma'am," he said, attempting to keep a straight face.
"On what grounds?"
"Professional development and networking," he said evenly, studying his nails.
"Oh brother."
Las Vegas, huh? Scully thought to herself. Thought oughta be interesting.
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN
MONDAY – 8:00pm
Later that evening, Scully sulked in her apartment while packing for this utterly ridiculous trip. She yanked open her closet door, pulled down her roller suitcase from the top shelf, and heaved it on the bed with a sigh.
While she secretly admitted it would be nice to get away from the usual cases and do something a bit non sequitor, this was not at all what she had in mind. She pictured herself her first week of medical school, during the white coat ceremony. There were so many plans and dreams she had for herself. None of which involved or was remotely even related to a Paranormal Convention in Las Vegas.
She hated to admit that she adored the idea of going to Las Vegas with Mulder far too much. Of course, he'd be too busy with the booths and the expos to even notice her. And given his vast taste in adult entertainment, it pained her to think of what would preoccupy Mulder by night. A surge of jealousy flowed through her at the very notion. Of course she was hopelessly devoted to Mulder, professionally and personally. She loved him, and she'd loved him for a while. So the idea of Mulder at some titty bar on the Las Vegas strip actually made her skin crawl.
She'd only been to Las Vegas once before, during a spring break trip with her housemates, her senior year of undergrad. The collegiate version of Dana Scully was studious, especially since she was pre-med. But there was something about Las Vegas, even then, that made her feel carefree and wild. No wonder they say, "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas". Not that she'd ever really done anything scandalous there, but there was just something about that place.
Hell, maybe this was the time to kick back, and show Mulder she isn't actually a prude. She could wear clothes that were much more revealing than she normally did. Maybe they could go out for drinks, see a show, or hell, maybe even wind up at a club, dancing close together. Sure they were there for five days on "official business", but this was certainly not an FBI matter. This was Mulder's idea of a joke, somewhat, and she wanted to be sure to play along.
When Scully slept, she didn't dream of Mulder the way she normally did – kissing him, touching him, the usual suspects. Instead, she dreamt of doing body shots off him in a swim-up bar in Vegas.
It was certainly going to be an interesting trip indeed.
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ALEXANDRIA, VA
MONDAY – 9:30pm
Mulder could barely contain his excitement. He hasn't been to Las Vegas in years. Sin City was one of his favorite places in America. Sure, it could be cheesy, but some of the hotels there were absolutely luxurious. Of course, the government per diem rate for Las Vegas left much to be desired. Most of the motels they were used to staying in didn't really exist in Las Vegas unless they wanted to stay somewhere really sketchy. Besides, he knew Scully wasn't exactly thrilled to be going to Vegas, so Mulder took it upon himself to book adjoining rooms at Caesar's Palace, and he would just pay the difference of what the per diem rate didn't cover. Hopefully that would be a pleasant surprise for Scully. His partner was never one to complain on the road, but he could often tell she was displeased at the places they had to stay at when they were out in the field. Caesar's was one of the nicest places to stay, and pretty central to everything. The convention center was just a quick monorail ride away.
The other thing Mulder omitted from this whole story was that the Gunmen were going to be there. The guys went every year, promoting their publication The Lone Gunmen, to which Mulder, of course, faithfully subscribed. The guys were the ones who put the idea in Mulder's head about going to ParaCon, they'd been trying to get him to go for years. He and Scully had a lull in cases and he thought this came at just the right time.
He pitched the idea to Skinner on his own, knowing Scully wouldn't even let him make it to the elevator to see Skinner. Mulder wasn't stupid, he knew he was out there, and often times did things for shock value. So when he marched up to Skinner's office and pitched the idea, he expected to be shot down. Much to his surprise, Skinner reluctantly agreed, helping Mulder package it as a professional development thing, so the Section Chief would approve it.
Mulder assumed Skinner just wanted them out of his hair (so to speak). As it turned out, he was exactly right. With budget cuts, the FBI was being audited by the Department of Homeland Security. With the recent budget cuts and the rise of terrorism, the federal government wanted to eliminate any oversight. The FBI and DHS often stepped on each other's toes, and no one was there to dear a clear line of jurisdiction.
Since their office burned down awhile back, the X-Files were unofficially shut down. Slowly things began to pick back up, though it seemed that the X-Files itself was officially unofficial and off the record. So when the bean counters come by, Skinner didn't want the activities in the basement office to even be brought up. Opportunity, packaged as ParaCon, presented itself, and Skinner was more than happy to sign off on it.
Mulder checked his itinerary once more. Their flight was leaving at ten in the morning from Dulles, which gave them plenty of time to get moving, even with traffic. He threw the itinerary into his briefcase, along with their passes for ParaCon, as well as their hotel information.
He tried to approach this whole Vegas thing with a rational mind, with no expectations. It was completely plausible that Scully would be a prude, in bed by ten every night, and by day she'd be trailing Mulder at the convention, with that incredulous look permanently plastered on her face. On the other hand, Vegas was a town like no other and sometimes it could turn even the straightest laced people into wild versions of themselves.
Silently, Mulder hoped for the latter.