27.6.09

Rated K+

I decided ages ago I was gonna write a more funny, less emotional x-files fic, and now I've finally gotten round to it....so read and review? Thanks :)

Hugs to every one who has reviewed and/or added my stories to their list, you can't imagine how happy it makes me.

Again, this is slightly based on personal experience. I had my prom on Thursday night which was a little anti climax but still really fun...I was at my friends party and we were dancing to Survivor....when we heard Michael Jackson died!! Omigod! (and slightly ironic!)

Also, why are you asking me for a disclaimer? I OWN THE XFILES, HOW OFTEN MUST I TELL YOU? Its actually slightly annoying, cos I left Skinner, Scully and two of the Lone Gunmen behind at prom, along with my phone...they better take care of it for me and not use up any credit, or i'm leaving them there forever, and anyone who wants to watch the x files in future will have to just imagine those characters....

Virtual-cookies to whoever reviews, okay? Even if you hate it.

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"Scully?

Scully?

Scully.

Scullyyy......!"

"What?"

Sometimes, when I'd spent a few hours listen to my friends complain about their bosses who publicly belittled them,and yet still considered it acceptable to try to feel them up at the annual and obligatory office Christmas party, and their colleagues,who gossiped about them and stole their biros, I'd silently thank god I didn't have to deal with any of that.

I'd sit back and think about the tiny office Mulder and I shared where nobody disturbed us or moved anything around or tried to clean up (well, technically, I tried to clean up. But it wasn't to be. I think I'd known all along it was a losing battle and that it was easier to just shut my eyes than to try to create any semblance of order from the tide of clutter.)

And I'd think about how lucky I was- that somehow I'd managed to bypass the whole colleagues-thing and instead had ended up with....just Mulder.

Mulder, my partner.

Mulder, my friend.

Mulder who I could work with and get things done with.

Mulder who never humiliated me or le me down, and who hardly ever stole my pens or forgot to bring my coffee.

Mulder, who'd probably never try anything.

Never.

No matter how drunk we were.

Mulder, who'd never try anything, ever, because....well, because he just wouldn't.

It would be unprofessional. And weird.

And it wasn't as if he thought of me like that.

Because he obviously didn't.

And that was good.

Because I didn't think of him that way either.

So I was lucky there was no chance Mulder would ever come on to me. And I appreciated how lucky I was.

I did.

Really.

So there I'd be, all quietly content with how lucky I was, with the secluded, quiet office, and the interesting work, and the good company....

And then there'd come a day like today, when paperwork had us buried in the stupid office that nobody ever came to, when the air conditioning didn't work, when all I wanted to do was get everything done so I could go home and take a long hot shower (and possibly stick some pins in a doll of whoever had given me this lousy assignment in the first place)....

I flopped back in my chair with my eyes shut, and thought about how Mulder's company bore a disturbingly close resemblance to the company of my four year old nephew.

"Scully-"

"What?!"

"Do you want to play some poker?"

I sat up and sighed irritably. "What?"

"Play some poker?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because. It's stupid, it's too hot and I really don't feel like it."

"Ever played?"

"Did I never tell you about my years as a professional poker player? Yeah, it goes hand in hand with med school. Gambling your money away before a big operation apparently really helps the concentration."

Mulder eyed me, his face expressionless until I stopped.

"To quote whoever invented text abbreviations, Scully....lol."

"Whatever, I still don't feel like playing."

"Come on, Scully, how do you know that if you've never played? You don't know what it feels like to feel like playing poker. How you feel now might just be a result of thirty years of being a poker-virgin."

"Mulder, what I feel now is a result of ten hours imprisoned in this tiny corner of hell with out air conditioning or caffeine. I seriously doubt you can help me gamble my troubles away."

Mulder pulled a pack of cards from his desk drawer with a flourish, and grinned.

"Oh, you doubt me now, Scully...."

I looked him in the eye "With every fibre of my being. Now leave me alone and let me finish this before I have to kill you."

"Scully..." Mulder sat up straight and leant towards me. "I don't think you understand quite how bored I am. I am so bored that I would happily sell my soul to Satan, if he promised that after I'd sod it, he'd play desk-soccer with me for an hour of two. Scully, I am so bored that I have spent the last two hours contemplating sawing off my own arm with THIS biro, just for something relieve the boredom! I'm so bored that-"

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"That's MY biro!"

"Well, I was going to use my own, but..." Mulder jerked his head toward the ceiling. At least fifty different coloured pens and pencils were stuck into the ceiling. At my look, he shrugged. "I get bored easily...."

"Hey, you picked this job. Choose to work in an office, prepare to be bored at lot."

"Then why did you come here?"

I shrugged nonchalantly "I had the shoes for it."

"Fair enough. So, anyway, play some poker? Or am I gonna have to sell my soul in return for a little desk-soccer?"

I groaned. "Omigod....hang on, how come your not bugging me to play desk soccer?"

"Because you suck at it."

"I don't suck!" I folded my arms and sulked at the floor. "It sucks....you suck..."

"Aw, you're so cute when you pout, Scully...."

"Whatever. I'm definitely not playing with you now."

His face fell. "Sculllly....." His tone changed suddenly. "Scully, when they find me, with my arm chewed off because you took your biro back, they're gonna find a note, written in the last moments of life, when I explain how I died of boredom because you refused to play with me..."

"Somehow, that doesn't make poker any more attractive."

"Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"If I die, i'm gonna come back and annoy the hell out of you-"

"Okay, okay...."

"Thank god..." Mulder gave a sigh of relief, as if bugging me was something incredibly exhausting, and not just something he did for the fun of it, and started to lay out the cards.

"Okay, Scully, listen carefully and don't interrupt, cos i'm gonna explain how you play. Poker is about sequences of cards...."

*

(I was going to write out their conversation as he teaches her, but I cant remember the instructions myself, only the bit about card sequences)

*

I didn't hear Mulder come into the office the next morning. I didn't even notice he was there, until he grabbed my shoulder and made me shriek.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry...."

Grinning, Milder attempted to shield himself as I tried to hit him with my bag, and raised an eye brow from behind the refuge of his desk. "Nice singing, Scully"

Blushing, I dropped my bag back on my chair and quickly pulled my head phones from around my neck. Dear god in heaven, PLEASE make him let this go.

"Funny, cos I don't FEEL hungover...and i'm pretty sure I still have the motel key..." He stopped and started searching his pockets "...somewhere..." I scowled at him. Mulder leant against the wall, still grinning at me. "But do you want me to ask Skinner if he's seen your fake I.D anywhere?"

(For anyone who doesn't know the song, those are some of the lyrics to Waking Up In Vegas by Katy Perry, the song Scully was singing along to. It's an awesome song.)

"Shut up, Mulder."

"You should sing more often, Scully."

"Shut up."

"I was starting to think the only song you knew was that one about the bullfrog...."

Annoyed, I grabbed a pile of folders and slammed them onto the desk with more force than necessary. "Leave the bullfrog song out of it, Mulder,ok?"

"Fine. Any special reason I get to hear you singing this morning and not the others?"

"You weren't supposed to hear that..." Whatever. It was too late now anyway. "...but not really. I just...that song came on the radio last night,... actually, I have played before."

"Played what?"

"Poker. Just the one time time. I'd completely forgotten about it...I think the song reminded me." At his look. "You know...Vegas, gambling, poker..."

"Really?" Mulder looked completely intrigued. "When?"

"Well-" Might as well make a story out of it. I cast a glance to the pile of untouched work I had yet to get through. Yeah, should definitely make a story out of it.

"I was sixteen, and it was prom night-" I broke off at Mulder's incredulous expression. "What?"

"Prom? You went to prom?"

"Why is that so surprising? Yeah, I went to prom."

Mulder shook his head. "God, Scully..."

"What??"

"Um...nothing. Go on."

"It was completely stereo typical....you know, tux's for the guys, long dresses for the girls, that disgusting fruit punch stuff... Really not my thing, but everyone was really into it. So afterwards, some of my friends who didn't go to prom were having a party. So instead of going home, like Bill had made me promise I would... I went there. By the time I got there, everyone was kind of drunk, and then some one got the idea that a bunch of us should play some strip-poker...."

I glanced across to catch Mulder's expression, and burst out laughing. "Joke, ,Mulder."

"Yeah, sure..."

"I was the only one who'd never played before, and this guy who happened to be sitting next to me (I don't know who he was, a friend of a friend) started explaining it...."

"Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know you're blushing?"

"Omigod..." I put my hands over my face and continued talking. "Honestly, nothing happened, he was just...really cute. And sweet. And funny. Okay, he was great, but I wasn't going to do anything..."

"How come?"

"How come what?"

"If you liked him that much, how come you didn't do anything?"

I looked at him "Because...that's why! It was me...I didn't talk to random guys as easily as I do now!"

"Scully, you know you still don't talk to random guys?"

"Then imagine how much worse I was at it when I was sixteen."

"Fair enough."

"I wish I had, actually. I really wish I had..." I trailed off and traced a pattern on the desk with my finger tip. "I got the biggest crush on him just sitting next to him and talking to him while we played. I nearly passed out when he touched my hand... I've never really thought about it until yesterday."

"Did you-"

"I never saw him again. And I didn't know his name. Somehow, it didn't come up." I shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter now anyway... I remember at the end of the night....well, by then it was next morning but whatever... I saw him slip one of the playing cards into his pocket..." I felt my cheeks turning pink, already regretting that I was admitting this to Mulder "I kind of hoped he'd saved it to remind him of me...That's what I used to pretend, anyway...."

I stopped. Mulder was looking at me strangely, and for once he wasn't saying a word.

"Mulder, are you okay?" He seemed to jump suddenly out of his reverie.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Good story..."

"Um, thanks...?" Something was weird with Mulder today, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. "I'm gonna go get some coffee before I start, do you want some?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Why did he seem so distracted?

It's nothing, I told myself. He was probably just thinking about...i don't know. Getting the pencils down from the ceiling....or something. Really it's nothing.

*

Alone in the office, Fox Mulder slid open a drawer in his desk. Smiling softly to himself, he looked down at the faded queen of hearts.

Then he closed the drawer again.

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What did you think??? I didn't plan to make this story so romancey, but somehow it just turned out like that...

Read and review using that beautiful little button underneath, and forgive me any mistakes.

Just to make it clear, yes I know Scully and Mulder didn't live near together, and yes I know poker is not a very catholic thing to play. I'm just using some artistic lisence. But I honestly think Scully would like Waking Up In Vegas.

Hugz xxx