************************************************************************ This author's e-mail address has changed to: tamarie@interchange.ubc.ca ************************************************************************ From: Tara Avery Date: 9 Apr 1999 01:37:38 -0700 Subject: New: Bellini Confessions (1/1) Tara Avery Title: Bellini Confessions (1/1) Author: Tara Avery Email: tavery@ntonline.com Rating: PG Category: VARH Spoilers: Arcadia and all that came before. :) Keywords: MSR Summary: Mulder persuades Scully to see a movie with him... and things get crazy from there. Archive: Sure, but let me know where it goes. Disclaimer: Not mine. CC&Rs state that Mulder, Scully and the X-Files belong to Chris Carter, Fox, 1013. Feedback: Love it. Live for it. Send it my way? tavery@ntonline.com :) Author's Little Note: This was originally written as an improv for the Scullyfic list, but I thought I'd send it out. It was a fun story. I'll list all the items I had to include at the end of the fic. A note to all of you who sent me an item--you're mean. Wen--you are definitely mean. The next lobotomy is for you, girly. ************************* Bellini Confessions (1/1) Tara Avery tavery@ntonline.com Scully flipped the page absentmindedly before thoroughly engrossing herself in John Gray's description of why men sulk in their "caves" when they feel they've been affronted. Although she didn't tend to buy into pop-psychology, she had to admit that "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" was giving her insights into Mulder's personality--and the personality of their relationship--that she had never dreamt of. The phone rang. She studiously ignored it. "You've reached Dana Scully. I'm not here right now. Leave your name and number at the sound of the tone." "Scully? Come on, Scully, pick up. I know you're in there. Scuuulllyyy.... Sc-u-ll-y." Scully reached over and snatched the phone from its cradle. "I'm not here right now, Mulder." "I knew you'd pick up." Scully made a non-committal sound that sounded suspiciously like a grunt. "So, Mulder, you've come out of your cave?" He paused for a moment, as though lost in thought. "You're not reading "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" are you?" Scully chuckled in genuine amusement and shut the book on her lap. "Actually, yes. Some of us *do* read books of quality. With no naked women involved." "I'd hardly rate John Gray as a writer of quality. Especially in the world of psychology." Scully smiled at the challenge in her partner's tone. "Oh really. And what was the last *real* book you read?" "Well, I just finished *re*-reading Crime and Punishment." "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Scully imagined Mulder's confusion on the other end and almost laughed aloud. Having studied Crime and Punishment herself at some time in her undergraduate career, she was strangely reminded of Porfiry Petrovich, goading Raskolnikov in the police bureau. Mulder rose to the challenge with an insolent, "What do you mean by that, Scully? Crime and Punishment is a *classic*. Considered one of the best crime novels--" "Precisely. I find it somehow amusing that even when you're *not* working you still find a way to be involved with work. Criminals, strange phenomena... what exactly was *your* profile of Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov?" "He was dark and brooding and misunderstood. It was the goddamned women in his life, actually." Although she knew he wouldn't see it, Scully shook her head. "You amaze me, Agent Mulder." Mulder snorted. "Okay, Mulder. There must be *some* reason you called. What bogeymen do you have for us to chase *this* weekend?" "Martians, oddly enough. My Favorite Martian." "The little green-slash-grey reticulans aren't your favorites?" Mulder's voice sounded drier than usual through the crackle of the phone line. "Ha. Ha. Ha. I meant the movie. I thought we could celebrate our life back on the files." "Life or lack thereof, you mean." "Oh, Scully, you're killing me tonight. C'mon, Scully it's *one* movie. I won't even dignify it with the name of a date--I won't take you out for dinner... just one movie... a comedy at that. It'll remind us that the world is not necessarily swimming in conspiracies." "Excuse me...? could you return the real Fox Mulder to the line, please?" "C'mon, Scully." She hated to admit it, but her partner's voice had descended into what could only be termed a whine. She knew if he were sitting in front of her he'd have pulled out the puppy-dog eyes in full force. "Okay, Mulder. One movie." "I'll be right there to pick you up!" "Mulder--" The phone clicked on the other end. Scully frowned. It was going to be a long, long evening. ***** "You have to admit, Scully, it was a pretty funny movie." "All right, it *was* a pretty funny movie. Not even plausible, but it was... amusing." Scully smiled up at her partner, and found herself startled by the knowledge that she didn't want to go home. She didn't want to send Mulder on his way. She didn't want to sit alone in her apartment and watch reruns of bad eighties movies. As though reading her thoughts, Mulder asked, "So, do you want to call it a night?" "No," she answered without thinking... before she could talk herself out of it. "Let's go for a drink." "Scully, you daring thing." "Occasionally, Mulder. Occasionally." ***** Scully was working on her third bellini in half as many hours. Although she would never have admitted it, she was feeling the buzz. The tantalizing mixture of peach slushy, champagne, rum and ... something else, was turning her head to clouds. She chortled to herself at the thought of her head *actually* turning to clouds. "What are you thinkin' about, Scully?" She pondered the question thoughtfully before replying, "A curious X-File." His eyebrows quirked upward and a light smile teased the corners of his mouth. "What X-File?" "What it would be like if my head *actually* turned into a cloud." Mulder laughed. "A friend told me once there was nothing as amusing to watch as a champagne-drunk." Scully felt her cheeks flush with indignation. "I am *not* drunk, Fox Mulder." "Sure you aren't. You know, you're nearing the end of your *third* bellini and there are a full 2.5 ounces of liquor in each." "Have you ever *tried* one of these, Mulder?" It was Mulder's turn to chortle. "That is what we men call a sissy-drink, Scully. Come on. Slushies? I'd as soon drink a cherry coke Double-Gulp from 7-11 and pass it off as a man drink. In fact, I think a Double Gulp is more dignified." "If cherry coke Double Gulps included, uh, 7.5 ounces of alcohol maybe... I think you should try one, Mulder. Come on. I went to see your stupid kids' movie about aliens--you could at least try my drink." ***** Scully realized, some time after her fourth bellini, that she was getting drunk. It started with the warm champagne feeling in her stomach that somehow managed to float right up into her cloud-brain. She was working on her sixth drink when she noticed how beautiful her partner's mouth was and found she couldn't take her eyes off of it. Mulder, however, was lost in bellini bliss. Against his better judgement he traded his rum and cokes for "sissy-boy" slushy drinks. Scully thought he was on his fifth, but she had lost count somewhere around his third and her fifth. "Hey, Mulder," she whispered, leaning close to him. He looked up with a drunken twinkle in his eyes and murmured, "Hmm?" "You have a really, really nice mouth." He pouted his lips into something resembling a fish and then started to laugh. Scully wasn't sure if she was angry or amused by his tactic, but she kissed him anyway. Mulder's eyes opened wide as she pressed her lips against his, but before he could respond, she backed away to her corner of the booth. "You taste like bellini," she said, with an un-Scully-like giggle. "That's so funny. Mulder, you didn't even want to try one!" "I never said I was brilliant, Scully." "You didn't?" "Okay, well, maybe once or twice..." Scully cut him off with a quiet, "Hey, Mulder." "Yeah?" "Are you drunk?" "Are you?" "Yeah. Yeah, I'm drunk." "Me too," he admitted. "I'm sorry." "It's okay." She looked at the ceiling fan for a moment and was transfixed. When she finally looked at her partner again, she found the willpower to say, "I think we should go soon." "We'll have to call a taxi--I'll come back for my car tomorrow." "Mulder?" A look of something near pain crossed her partner's face as she spoke his name. "What's wrong, Mulder? Wasn't this fun?" "Yeah, Scully. This was the best night of my life. No, really. It was. But I can't go home with you. If I go home with you I'll want to go home with you tomorrow... and the day after that... and all the days after that. I'll want to make you... I don't know... overbaked banana bread in the morning and Kraft Dinner for supper." He smiled a little and continued without giving her a moment to say anything. When she tried to interrupt, he hushed her gently. "I'd want us to be... happy, I don't know. House with a white picket fence... some big, stupid dog, like a Rottweiler or something... give her a ridiculous name like... hell, like Daphne. We could play Frisbee in the back yard... when I had a dog I used to make him catch this raggedy old Minnie Mouse doll of Samantha's. So, me and Daphne, we could hang in the yard with Minnie and a Frisbee. You could play with us. We'd be this big happy family, the three of us. And then we'd go to work together--you and I, not Daphne, and we'd keep being Special Agents, but it would be different. None of this stupid, chickenshit, yellow-bellied fear that you'll run away if I ever get up the nerve to tell you this stuff... 'cause you'd be there with me, Scully. We'd be together. Don't you think that's the way it should be? And we'd be so goddamned happy... me as a psycho psychologist and you as a po-podi--path--podiatrist? No..." "Pathologist, Mulder." He looked up at her as though he'd forgotten she was there, and a look of terror sparked in his eyes. *He had forgotten I was here* Scully thought. "What the hell am I saying anyway. I just don't think I can go home with you, Scully." "Mulder... there's nothing in the FBI... nothing in FBI CC&Rs that says you can't come home with me..." She paused for a moment. Afraid of herself, afraid of Mulder. Afraid of telling him the truth. Afraid he wouldn't recognize the reference to CC&Rs. "Mulder. I want you to come home with me. This has been one of the happiest nights of my life too. Come home with me. I love banana bread and Kraft Dinner. Even *overbaked* banana bread. Hell, Mulder, I love you. I'm *in* love with you. There's nothing I want more than for you to come home with me." "I'm in love with you, Scully. You know that." Mulder eased himself next to her and returned the kiss she had offered earlier. ***** The end! Okay--this was so not my usual turn of tale. It's SO romance! Wow. Although I have to admit... a certain experience with bellinis was part of the inspiration (I only had two :))... if you've never tasted one... my GOD you're missing out. They're so wonderful. Go. Order one now. Right now. Okay, now for the improv items... I think I ended up with an offering of about fifteen or so, but I only included 10. Pendrell and Krycek made no appearance in this tale (sorry, guys!): The FIVE that HAD to be included were: M&S drunk and whispering sweet nothings. the book "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" "My Favorite Martian" A podiatrist (!) EVIL A Rottweiler named Daphne. the others I included were: an overbaked banana bread CC&Rs A minnie mouse doll a cherry coke double gulp from 7-11 AND CRIME AND PUNISHMENT (thank God I'm finished studying that book... oh, the angst.) By the way <-- Wen should be shot for telling me to include this element. Grr.. Thanks so much for sticking through to the end! All feedback will be kissed, hugged and cuddled at: tavery@ntonline.com THANK YOU!!! Tara Avery tavery@ntonline.com ICQ 2570912 www.ntonline.com/tavery/index.htm for X-Files fanfic: http://www.angelfire.com/bc/TaraAvery/fanfic.html "Cowards die many times before their deaths -- the valiant never taste of death but once." ~Shakespeare