**Just to let you know that everything you read in here about Poitín (put-ch-een) is true and god bless the man who invented it!**
The week passed by with assured monotony. All the paperwork required for the court case kept them busy. Mulder trod tentatively around her aware that she was feeling somewhat perturbed by her emotional display last weekend. The quick exit she made from his apartment did nothing to alleviate the unease he felt and it only seemed to grow as the days went by. All conversations pertaining to anything remotely personal were swiftly shunned and avoided, but at last he found himself looking down the long end of a Friday night alone.
"Got any plans this weekend?" he asked cautiously as she gathered her things that evening.
"Nothing beyond a relaxing time at home. Some research on a paper and a lot of sleep."
"Sounds exciting," he said smiling.
"Sounds perfect," she said hoping her tone would kill any ideas he had on popping round.
With a cryptic smile she pulled her coat on and walked out the door, leaving him bathed only in the light from his desk lamp. He sat back into the chair and propped his legs onto the table as he followed her with his mind through the streets of Washington and home to her apartment. His thoughts shadowed her as she stepped through her living room and into her bedroom. He imagined the room flooded with the soft light from her bedside lamps as she pulled of her jacket and kicked off her shoes.
Pushing himself away from the table he quickly stood and grabbed his coat. He had already promised himself he wouldn't call by her place this weekend and had even gone so far as to work late all week to stay away. But now with the vast expanse of an empty weekend ahead of him he needed to come up with a distraction…quickly.
Driving through the city he avoided her turnoff with some difficulty and soon found himself parking outside the Lone Gunman's Office. After a few heavy knocks he gazed up to the camera, offering it his cheesiest smile, he listened for that familiar sound of the locks being undone. Sure enough the clanking of the chains began at his feet and ended over his head before the door swung open.
"Is this a raid Mulder?" Frohike asked as he stepped aside to let him in.
"Only on your liquor cabinet."
"Well you picked a good night. Langly just got back from Tijuana and brought a stash of tequila and cigars!"
"Sounds perfect," he said mimicking Scully's words from earlier as he fell rather than sat onto the couch. Langly joined him with a bottle of whiskey that seemed to be fused to his hand. "No tequila for you?" Mulder asked.
"No, after two weeks down south I need to clean out my system."
"With a bottle of Bushmills?" Mulder asked as he took a shot of tequila from the heavily laden tray Frohike had just left on the table.
"Yeah," Langly replied as if it were obvious and watched as Mulder licked the salt from the back of his hand and finished the gold liquid in one go before sucking on the lemon slice.
"Bad day Mulder?" Byers asked from his vantage point at the PC as Mulder reached for another shot.
"Bad week."
"Where's the delectable Agent Scully?" Frohike asked passing him the saltshaker.
"Home."
The three men exchanged glances above his head and watched as he reached for a third shot.
"So how goes the underworld of America?" Mulder asked the alcohol already taking affect as his speech slowed and his frown dropped.
"Not bad Mulder, not bad," Langly said from behind the bottle of Bushmills. "Get this, down in Mexico-,"
"Why were you in Mexico?"
"I was researching," Langly began but Frohike let out an almighty roar that drew all their attention.
"Researching my ass. He was following a chickadee…some babe he met at the Comic Con last month," he shouted through his laughter.
"A chickadee?" Mulder questioned turning to Langly who was obviously uncomfortable.
"No way I was down there testing out a new tracking system."
"You bugged her?" Byers said with an incredulous smile.
"No…I was testing…the equipment."
Mulder laughed along with the others as he reached for his fourth drink.
Much better, he thought. Much better. The haze fell over his brain in slow succession as the night progressed in a mixture of tequila and whiskey and he let it pass over him releasing some of the tension he had been building up all week, removing his need to think about her…much.
Dammit, his mind screamed as he pictured her lying on her couch watching the Friday night prime time shows, but he shook the image free and listened again to Byers as he explained the new theory for implant usage.
***
Letting herself into her apartment Scully rushed into the kitchen delighting in her decision to do the grocery shopping on a Saturday at lunchtime. She had heard stories of people who met in the produce section but she never dreamed it would be her. But as she reached for the last pineapple, suddenly having and urge for pineapple an ice cream a large hand covered her own. For a second she thought it was Mulder and that's why she turned around with the warm smile but she found herself looking into a pair of dark brown eyes, not the amusing hazel ones she expected.
"Oh sorry," he said his voice a deep baritone, "I didn't see you there."
"No problem," she got out looking up the expanse of his chest to see his face smiling and open.
"You take it," he offered standing back with his hands raised.
"No, please you," she said holding the fruit out.
They argued half-heartedly for a moment before he laughed a nervous laughed and put his hand on the pineapple.
"How about we share it?"
"Share it?"
"I was just going to use with some ice-cream, would you care to join me?"
She faltered at the invite but suddenly the picture of her mother and her new friend flashed tauntingly into her mind so she turned to the stranger with a smile.
"I'd love to."
"Tonight? I'll throw in some dinner too."
"Okay. What time?" she asked unable to believe the words as they spilled from her smiling lips.
He gave her his address and phone number and told her to be by at around seven. She relinquished the pineapple and left him standing in the aisle as she finished her shopping and made her way home.
Now alone in her apartment as she rushed to put the food away and have enough time to shower and pick out clothes. Most of the shopping was pushed unceremoniously into the fridge and while she started the water she mentally ran through all the clothes in her wardrobe. Pulling a towel from the hot press she locked herself into the bathroom and quickly showered. Dashing through the apartment she had already decided what to wear and patted herself dry quickly. It was only quarter to six but she had no idea how to get to his address so she wanted to leave time for error. Slipping into the silky blue blouse, she loved the feel of it against her skin, and couldn't help the ripple of laughter she felt at the excitement building in her chest. The black trousers were long and slightly flared but she liked the way they hugged her slim waist as she admired her choice in the full-length mirror. She fastened the sandals carefully and walked around the room making sure they were going to be comfortable. As she walked backing into the living room she absently pressed the answering machine to replay her messages but to her surprise there was none.
She ignored the pang of disappointment and continued into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. She was sure that Mulder was going to call by last night and when he didn't she was convinced he would be there at lunch today. She had waited around until nearly two o'clock before leaving to go shopping half expecting a slew of messages to be waiting for her as he tried to convince her to follow him to Costa Rica or Ohio or some other place in search of the unknown. But there was none. She took her keys out of her coat and grabbed her light jacket from the hall before leaving.
***
Mulder woke to the incessant ringing of the alarm clock and slammed his hand down onto it, only succeeding in knocking it off the table and out of his reach. With a muffled groan he pulled his weary body out of the bed and kicked the clock to switch it off on his way to the bathroom. Ever since Friday night his movements were measured in equal efforts and his normal agility seemed to have vanished as he struggled to hold his toothbrush still to put the paste on it. The hot water from the shower removed some of the haze but did nothing to heal the pounding in his head. Drying off he relished the clean taste of the paste in his mouth but he knew it wouldn't last for long. Saturday had been a blur. An alcoholic blur.
Once the tequila was finished on Friday night the whiskey was started but even that didn't last long. Langly left in search of something stronger but didn't return until eleven am on sat morning. He hammered at the door until one of them was able to answer. Byers started to cook and Frohike stayed sleeping but Mulder and Langly sat on the couch staring in wonderment, albeit a drunken wonderment at the bottle he had produced, from under his jacket once the door had been closed and locked behind him.
"What is it?" Mulder asked picking up the large bottle of clear liquid with no markings or labels.
"I got it in a bar on 3rd street. It's called Poitín."
"Poitín? I never heard of it," Mulder admitted.
"Did you say Poitín?" Frohike's voice called from the other room.
"Yeah, Langly got a bottle of it."
"No way, I haven't had that since back in the sixties."
He emerged from the back bedroom and bee-lined his way over to the couch, ignoring Byers insistence that they all eat breakfast first.
"What is it?" Mulder asked again at the look of awe on Frohike's face.
"It's a very old Irish drink. Super potent. If it's made right it can last in your system for days."
"How?"
"I'm not sure exactly but one cupful of this will be more than enough. No hangovers but the more water you drink the following day the more drunk you get as it flushes back into your body."
"You're kidding?" Langly said already standing to get clean glasses.
"It's actually illegal in Ireland. You can get tamer versions of it for sale but the real thing is…far out."
Langly held out the glasses and Frohike poured. The smell was forceful enough to make them all hold it away glancing at each other. Byers came over and stood watching them shaking his head slowly from side to side.
Whatever it was Mulder had come here to forget he was doing a good job of it he thought as he watched them hesitantly sip from their glasses.
Now as Mulder struggled with his tie he rushed from the building and hit the Monday morning traffic with a sigh. It was half past eight before he walked into the office, his tie loose and his laces undone.
"Bad morning?" she called from her desk with a knowing smile of someone who could still feel the remnants of a hangover.
"Bad weekend," he muttered not wanting to divulge the details of his drunken sordid weekend.
She didn't probe and he settled into his desk, focusing on the swimming keys. At eleven Skinner called Scully up to his office and Mulder took the opportunity to contact Frohike.
"Hey Mulder, how's the head?"
"Terrible. How do I get rid of it?"
"You didn't drink any water yesterday did you?"
"Yeah…why?"
"It's just starting all over again."
"So, no water."
"Yeah for the rest of the day. Until your head clears."
"Oh god…thanks."
He hung up and rested his head onto his arms before the ringing from the telephone cut through the silence. Fumbling with the receiver he managed to hold it up to his ear.
"Hello."
"Hello, Dana Scully please," the unfamiliar male voice said.
"She's not here at the moment, can I take a message?" Mulder asked his curiosity bursting through the fog on his brain.
"That's okay, I'll call her later."
Mulder sat back into his chair and locked his fingers behind his head. It wasn't long before she walked back into the office and was surprised by the change in his mood and posture.
"Feeling better?"
"Not really."
"Want some coffee?"
"No thanks, you just missed a phone call."
"Oh? From who?" she asked her voice steady and her face clear of the blush he was expecting.
"He didn't leave a name."
"If it was important I'm sure he'll call again."
Mulder watched her carefully as she crossed the small room and slid into her desk, placing her glasses on she studied the screen without affording him the slightest glance. Inside her mind was screaming with delight at the confused and curious look on his face but she wasn't ready to tell him about the dinner date she had.
A date, he thought traitorously. She had a date. He wasn't sure what was worse. The fact that she had a date or the fact that she wasn't telling him about it.
The week passed in a series of phone calls and clandestine meetings. Or that's the way it felt to him. She was busy every evening with the research for her paper or so she claimed, he sneered. But the joy he felt at seeing her smile more often and laugh a little freer made him guilty for feeling jealous.
Jealous, I'm not jealous, he thought to himself wondering where the stray thought had come from but the silent way she packed up her case and slipped into her jacket, sending him only the briefest farewell before leaving him in the office, alone, again, on a Friday evening, stung him in more ways than it had ever done.
It had taken him the best part of four days to get over his last binge with the Lone Gunmen so tonight he just drove home. Sitting in his empty apartment finding the VCR in his lap as he unscrewed the top off he sighed a deep sigh and almost wished he had convinced her to go to Idaho on Tuesday to check out the sightings. But she had convinced him otherwise. With no cases on the scene there were no excuses to call her up so he lifted the lid off the machine and carefully removed the spatula, fork and tape before fixing it back on. The phone rang loudly making him jump. He left the VCR half closed on the table and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Karen Whyte, died today at approx 15.45," the computer generated voice said.
"What? Hello?"
"She lies in Washington General Hospital."
"Who is this?"
"Hurry."
The voice was replaced by a dial tone and Mulder quickly dialled the bureau for a trace. He grabbed his trainers and slipped into them racing out of his apartment while dialling her number.
"Scully, I got a tip off. A Body in the morgue at Washington Gen."
"Mulder I cant-," she began but he continued and she could hear him closing a car door and the engine starting.
"I'm just leaving my place I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes."
"Mulder," she argued but he had already hung up and she replaced the phone and looked over to Jason. After having dinner at his place last weekend she had offered to return the gesture.
"Work?" he asked as she sat next to him and sipped her wine.
"Yeah. I'm not sure what's going on but my partner is on the way over here to pick me up."
"Oh the life of an FBI Agent."
"Yeah, it's all go."
"I better be leaving," he said with a small smile. "Don't want to get in the way."
"I'm sorry about this."
"Forget it Dana, It was a lovely dinner. I'll take a rain cheque on desert."
She walked him to the door and he dropped a soft kiss onto her waiting lips before slowly making his way out to the car. Scully watched him pull away before she went back to her bedroom and changed out of her soft black cardigan and trousers and threw on a pair of jeans and a top. If Mulder was going to make her perform an autopsy she wanted to be comfortable. She was sitting on the couch tying her laces when Mulders insistent knock echoed through the room. Opening the door she found him barely able to stand still as he walked past her and paced the room.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"I got a call from what seemed to be a computer generated voice telling me about a Karen Whyte that died in hospital."
"And?"
"And I was to hurry to Washington General to see the body."
"Mulder, Jesus. If some one rang you and told you to jump from the Hoover Dam would you rush over there too?"
"Was it a computer voice that told me?"
His attempt at humour only made her angrier and when she turned away from him to get her badge and gun he noticed the two glasses of wine on the table. He was fairly sure that one of them was Scully's from the faint traces of her dark lipstick but he was also sure that the other wasn't for him.
"I had the call traced and it came from a payphone."
"Okay, so what are we going to find?" she asked ignoring the anger and stepping into investigator mode as they walked out to his car.
"I dunno. That's why I called you in case we need to do an autopsy."
"We?" she said with a laugh. "That's rich."
"We both have out strengths and weakness," he said. "Yours are your ability to slice and dice so efficiently."
"You remember that Mulder."
They arrived at the hospital and were shown the body without fuss once they flashed their badges. As Karen Whyte was listed with no next of kin the permission for an autopsy was obtained from the Chief medical officer of the hospital, who after being bombarded with FBI regulations by Mulder gladly handed the rights over to them and provided them with a facility.
"It says here that she died of a heart attack," Scully said as she placed the mask over her face and read the lady's chart.
"Well did she?"
"Looking at the EKG she was attached to at the time I'd say yes."
"So why are we here?"
"Mulder!" she exclaimed looking up to him. "You've got to be kidding?"
"No Scully I still want you to do the autopsy, I'm just thinking out loud."
"This is insane," she muttered as she started the first Y-incision and Mulder stepped away from them.
It was nearing 2am when she finally finished closing the body off tightly and placed it back into the freezer. She changed back into her own clothes and discarded the scrubs. Coming out into the hallway she found Mulder sitting on one of the chairs with a few pages on the floor by his feet. His head had tilted back to the wall and his mouth opened as he slept. She reached out and shook his shoulder.
"Mulder, wake up."
"I'm up, I'm up," he mumbled as he sat forward and gathered the pages. "What did you find?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
"I don't understand."
"Neither do I." They walked back to the car in silence and he drove her back to the apartment.
"Do you want to come in for coffee?" she asked having caught him nodding off twice on the trip back.
"No I better get going."
"Mulder if I hear about you falling asleep and crashing you had better come back and haunt me so I can kill you."
"Okay, one coffee, a weak one."
Sitting on her couch he spied the incriminating wine glasses and waited for her to bring over the coffee.
"Here," she handed him a cup and dropped a plate of sandwiches on the table between them. "You haven't eaten have you?"
"Eh…no."
"Help yourself." She gathered the two glasses and left them into the sink before joining him.
"Sorry for spoiling your evening," he admitted as she reached across for a sandwich.
"Forget it Mulder."
"Was…was it…" he stammered unable to get the right words out.
"What?" she asked knowing what he wanted to know but needing him to ask her properly.
"Was it a date?"
"Something like that."
"With who?"
"A guy I met," she admitted unable to hold the blush back any longer.
"Are you being cagey Scully?"
"No Mulder. But I dunno what it is so I never mentioned it."
They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke up.
"So what about the body?"
"Karen Whyte? I don't know. I'm going to do a background check tomorrow and see if I can come up with something."
"Tomorrow at work? Do you want me to help you?"
"If you got plans-," he started but her smiling shaking head stopped him.
"I don't."
"Okay."
He finished off the rest of the sandwich and swallowed what was left of his coffee. Standing he stretched his arms up high above his head letting out a deep moan.
"Thanks for the sustenance, Scully."
"Thanks for the diversion."
He wasn't sure what she meant so he ignored the comment and walked over to the door. Turning he didn't expect her to be standing so close and he found his breath caught in his throat, trapping a delicious smell of the perfume she wore.
"Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow at ten-ish," she said holding the door open for him.
"Yeah, tomorrow," he managed to get out and without thought he bent down and kissed her cheek before disappearing into the night.
Scully lay in bed that night thinking about the two men that had kissed her that night. Both standing in her doorway, both saying goodnight with an air of expectancy but only one made her heart skip and only one made her wish for more. Now all she had to do was figure out how to ask for more.
**This chapter is all over the place but I like it. I like to torture the characters with a little angst and it make the following fluff all the more enjoyable!!**