Title: Beads

Rating: PG-13

Summary: After being suspended for two weeks, Mulder goes to Mardi Gras and discovers something that draws Scully into party central.

Author: The Syndicate

Disclaimer: The x files and the characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 productions and Fox broadcasting. This story belongs to the Yahoo! Group MSRPhiles, a fanfiction group.

A/N: We are the Yahoo! Group MSRPhiles, and this is our first group project in which a different member writes each chapter, and the chapter is named after that member. If you have an idea for this story, or are interested in joining MSRPhiles, please e-mail either Natalie (Icesparklesz@hotmail.com); Jamie (YippySkippyDoo@hotmail.com) ;Juliet (Pandora1251@yahoo.com);or Kiki (Kcabou@yahoo.com) or visit our site at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MSRPhiles/

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Chapter One

By: Juliet

"Two can be as bad as one. Its the loneliest number since the number one."

Midnight

One week before Fat Tuesday

French Quarter New Orleans, Louisiana

It always amazed Fox Mulder when someone spoke of feeling alone in a crowd of thousands, for he could always sympathize with the feeling. Although up until this exact moment, he'd never actually felt lonely in a literal crowd of thousands. Looking down ruefully at the plastic cup in his hands, Mulder frowned. Beer was supposed to make him more social, not the opposite.

"Hey mister, throw me some beads," called a voluptuous blonde leaning off one of the many balconies on the streets. Without even looking up Mulder tossed a string of brightly colored beads up towards the balcony.

"Hey baby, the party's up here," yelled an equally voluptuous brunette from a different balcony. Ignoring both woman, Mulder made his way to a part of the French Quarter less densely populated by partygoers and took his cell phone out of his pocket. Dialing the Washington DC number, Mulder wondered exactly when this sort of life had stopped appealing to him and he had become so predictable.

"Lone Gunman," came a voice from the phone.

"Langly, turn off the tape," Mulder said reciting the standard greeting.

"Hey what's the word from party central?" Langly asked as Mulder could hear the excited chattering of the other two Gunmen in the background.

"Not much," Mulder began. "How many chicks has he scored?" Frohike shouted in the background.

"Dude I am not asking him that," Langly said to Frohike, then to Mulder, "So uhm how many lovely young woman have you met in the Big Easy?"

"Have you talked to Scully at all this weekend?" Mulder asked ignoring the question.

"Hold on a sec," Langly said putting the phone down. As he did so, Mulder could hear the three Gunmen conferring in the background.

"You're kidding me right?" Frohike said picking up the phone. "You go hightailing it down to Mardi Gras, yeah Mardi Gras man, where the women are literally a dime a dozen and all you can think about is Scully. I mean not that she's not the ultimate mental picture, but leave some for the rest of us here."

"So you haven't talked to her?" Mulder said letting his attention drift to the mysterious figure walking by the St. Louis cathedral. He took a few steps closer, trying to scare whoever it was away.

"Sadly no," Frohike sighed wishing for a visit from the redhead. "Ok, I'll talk to you later then," Mulder said hanging up the phone and replacing it in his pocket. When he looked up again, the figure was headed towards Bourbon Street, where Mulder had just come from. However he or she had dropped something in front of the cathedral doors. As Mulder bent to inspect the object, his cell phone began to ring.

"Mulder," he said absently trying to figure out why the figure had been carrying some sort of child's toy.

"Hey its me," Scully said from Washington DC. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" Mulder said hoping he didn't sound too drunk.

"Well I don't know Mulder, we get suspensed for two weeks so you dash off to Mardi Gras, then proceed to call Frohike at midnight sounding completely out of it. You tell me," Scully said trying to sound too worried about her partner.

"I just missed the sound of your voice so I called Frohike and," Mulder stopped realizing that he was not making any sense.

"How much have you had to drink?" Scully asked softly.

"Actually not that much," Mulder said picking up the small doll that the figure dropped. Realizing that it was made from a bone and human hair, Mulder whispered,

"Oh my god." Scully's apartment Washington DC "What?" Scully said recognizing Mulder's tone as the one he reserved for those discoveries which were either amazing or dangerous, most of the time both.

"Well it looks like I just..." Mulder began. Then Scully heard a female voice in the background say, "Hey sweet thing."

"You know Mulder next time you call me I'd appreciate it if," Scully began trying not to sound completely jealous.

"No Scully that's not what I," Mulder said cutting her off. However before he could finish the phone was disconnected. Even though she knew she should be angry with Mulder, Scully couldn't help herself from suddenly feeling very worried about her partner. As much as she hated to admit it, over the last few years when Mulder had a hunch it was normally something to be looked at even if the results were less than perfect. Picking up the phone, Scully wondered when she had become so paranoid about her partner's well- being. "This is Special Agent Dana Scully," she said into the phone. "I need to book the next flight to New Orleans."