From: Moonie777@aol.com
Date: Sat, 8 Aug 1998 03:06:42 EDT

Well, this is a little diddy I whipped out one afternoon while sitting at home 
staring at a wall.  It's a light-hearted little piece of fanfic.. nothing too 
heavy.. though I am perfectly capable of cranking out an angsty tear-jerker, and 
I plan to have one out soon for y'all to indulge yourselves in.  Anyway..  I'll 
cut the crap and get right down to the essentials...

Disclaimers:  Mulder and  Scully belong to Chris Carter and Tenthirteen 
Productions, as well as Fox Entertainment (even though I'd very much like to own 
Fox Mulder..).  The songs "Honey" and "You're Making me High" belong to Mariah 
Carey and Toni Braxton respectively.  No infringement of copyright laws 
intended.  Please don't sue me... I ain't got nuttin to give but my old Shamrock 
computer, the tiny TV set I watch X-files on, and the cardboard box I live in.

Title: CALL ME DANA, DAMMIT!
Author: Oriental Spice
Rating: PG-13 (for a little bit of language and some other junk)
Classification: UST
Spoilers: Small referances to Never Again, Syzygy, and War of the Coprophages
Keywords: drunk... enough said
Summary: Scully deals with her stress by going to a bar and ends up dancing on 
top of the counter, singing into a bottle of vodka.  (Winner of 1997 PPWHSTDP 
award for Best UST).

                                        CALL ME DANA, DAMMIT!
                                      
"AAARRRGGHHHH!!" screamed Dana Scully as she flung the file she was holding 
across her room.  She watched it hit the wall, the papers fluttering out
of the 
folder and dropping to the carpet one by one, like so many dying butterflies.  
She exhaled deeply and  lowered her head into her palm, slamming th=
e mattress she was sitting on with her clenched fist in fury.  
It was the same every day.  It never stopped.  Never.  Once she finished
one 
ridiculous case, another one came in to take its place, and before she had 
realized where her life was going, she was trapped in this monotonous cycle from 
which escape would mean heartache and eventually regret.  Yet,
she was sick of vampires, mutants, ghosts, and murderers, but most of all, she 
was sick of being wrong all the time.  Or maybe she was sick of Mulder being 
right all the time. She wasn't sure of anything at the moment.
 All she knew was that she was beginning to have a nervous breakdown.  The words 
on the papers she had just been viewing a moment ago danced behind her eyelids 
when she lowered them.  She felt the tension in her chest building, threatening 
to explode like an arsenal of nuclear weapons.  Sitting up in her bed and 
running her fingers through her hair copper-gold hair in frustration, she 
quickly considered what would give her momentary release from this world in 
which the X-files dominated every aspect of her life and her mental well-being.
A date.
She needed a date.
She hadn't had endulged herself in one since the guy with the talking tattoo.  
She glanced at her watch.  It was only 7:15..... not too late, but....
"Stupid, Dana.  Really, really stupid" she said to herself, grinding the
palm of her hand against her eyes.  She pondered over which men she could get to 
go on a date with her on such short notice.  She half sobbed, half chuckled at 
her plight... a thirty-three year old single woman, dateless, childless, and 
lifeless, and to top it all off, she realized that she
was desperate.  She searched the databanks of her mind for a man - any man- whom 
she could ask out on a whim, and found no such possiblity.  Well, at least she 
wasn't sure she could find a man whom she could trust not to try burning her 
body in a furnace her like the last guy did.  The only
people she could think of were Frohike (and God knew she didn't feel desparate 
enough to date that loser) and Mulder.....
No.
Her relationship with Mulder was strictly professional, strictly platonic. 
*Platonic* she worded to herself, unsurprised that it left a bitter taste on her 
tongue. Yes, she did "enjoy" having the tall, dark, and devilishly handsome man 
as a partner.. and one who respected her at that.  But the attraction burned 
within her every morning when he casually smiled his greeting from his desk when 
she entered the office.  It shot through her like lightning when she watched his 
lips curl around the rim of a styrofoam cup brimming with steamy coffee while he 
poured himself over files and when he placed his hand on the small of her back 
without discomfort when he walked next to her down the hall.  She knew that he 
felt the heat between them as well.. or at least she hoped that he did.  Yet if 
he did, and if he was summoning the power of his self-restraint every hour of 
the
day as she was doing, then apparently denial plagued thier relationship.
 The nagging proffessional side of her screamed for her to suppress her 
emotions.. the natural yearnings any woman would feel for such a kind, 
compassionate, and ruggedly attractive man. She found, however, that with each 
passing day, it was becoming harder and harder to listen that inner voice that 
kept her in check.  There was, of course, another voice, a quieter yet sweeter 
voice that contradicted the other in philosophy.  It told
her, on more than one occasion, to sweep the unorganized contents on Mulder's 
desk and throw him onto the surface... to experience the pleasure of his body 
against hers.. to taste the sweetness of his tongue in her mouth.  For the most 
part, she ignored this voice.  She decided, to ignore this voice again tonight.  
She shook her head, trying to clear all thoughts of Mulder out, but to no avail.  
At this point, she felt only more lonely.. more desperate.  Fuck it.  A date was 
out of the question.
A drink.
Yes.. she needed a drink. How long had it been since she had lost herself in the 
blissfulness  alcohol had to offer?  How long had it been since she had truly 
felt wild and deliciously young?  Drinking was normally not
an activity she cared to participate in unless she was at a party, but tonight, 
that was exactly the reason why it was appropriate.  "I just need
to do something <I>different</I>, damn it." she thought to herself as she 
grabbed her coat off the back of a chair and hurried out of the room.  "I can 
trust myself not to get too drunk," she thought with a smirk, knowing that her 
self-control was capable of passing this simple test after enduring  and 
resisting five years of battering from Mulder and his precious X-files.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mulder sat up on his couch looking over the file in his hands.  He had to 
admit... this one had him stumped.  Maybe Scully had a few theories about the 
case.  Whatever they were, he was sure of the fact that she would dismiss the 
thought of paranormal activities as being the answer.  That was just the
way she 
was.  Scientific. Skeptical.  And he loved her that way.
He smiled to himself as he took his cell phone out of the pocket on his charcoal 
suit.  He had Scully first on his speed dial.  It rang seven times before he 
hung up and dialed her home phone number.  "That's weird...." he thought
as he 
hung up and tried her cell phone number again.  Why wasn't she picking up? Maybe 
she was in the shower (<I>don't go there unless you want your mind to plummet 
into the gutter, Mulder</I>).  Maybe she was on a date and decided not to bring 
her 
cellular phone. "Ha... that's funny," he mumbled to himself.  Scully....
on a 
date?  Yeah right.  It wasn't that he thought she couldn't get one.  Certainly 
not. It was quite to the contrary.  In fact she was the type of woman any guy 
would kill for.  Hell, even he......
It was just that with a job like hers, there simply wasn't time for 
relationships.  He knew that better than anyone.  So why the hell wasn't
she 
picking up?  He put down the phone and returned his attention to the file once 
more.  He would try again later.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Gimme another one," she demanded crudely while motioning to the bartender.
"Lady, I think you've had enough."  he said, but all the while reaching for 
another glass.  For the past hour he had listened to her prattle on about her 
partner.  "God, what a bastard," the bartender had thought when she had broken 
into tears for a brief moment halfway through the story, specifically at her own 
mention of a Detective White and a Bambi.  He admired the way she was able to 
cut the flow of tears abrubtly, demonstrating
extreme self-control even in a drunken state.  He decided early that night that 
he would not interrupt her drinking.  He had seen the wonders booze could do for 
a broken heart.
Scully stared into the frothing golden liquid in the mug in front of her
and slowly gripped the handle.  Screw self-control.  She had drowned it a couple 
of drinks ago.  Screw the case.  It was going nowhere anyway.  <I>Screw 
Mulder</I>.  If it wasn't for her feeling towards him, she might be on a date 
tonight. 
She tipped the mug to her lips and downed it, slamming the glass container down 
next the the five others on the counter next to her.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mulder woke up with a start when he heard the ringing.  He groggily reached for 
his cell phone as the file slid off his chest where it had fallen when he dozed 
off. "Hello?" he croaked into the receiver, but the ringing continued.. 
Realizing that it wasn't his cell phone, but the phone mounted on his kitchen 
wall, he stumbled from the couch, stepping over empty pizza boxes and crumpled 
papers to pick it up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Spooky!" said the voice.  It was Bill Jefferson, from work.  Mulder had 
never liked that smart-ass.
"What do you want Bill?" he asked with a sigh.
"Hey!  I just thought you would like to know that I was down at the Tropicana 
Bar, and I noticed that your partner was putting on quite a show for the
fellas. 
She's pretty hot, ya know, Spooky?  Spooky?  Mulder?  Hellllloooooo?
Mulder was already out the door.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He could hear the hoots and shouts from the bar as he stepped out of his
blue 
Ford Taurus in the parking lot.  He slammed the car door and practically
burst through the swinging doors into the overwhelmingly smoky atmosphere.
What he saw was a group of twenty or more drunk men, crowded around the 
counter... and Scully posed on top of it.  From the looks of it, she was
drunk as 
well... a fact that was a marvel in itself.  A slit was ripped up the side of 
her skirt, exposing her upper thigh.  The two buttons on her blouse
were undone, and her collar bones portruded visibly from her pale skin. She was 
singing Toni Braxton's "You're Making Me High" into a bottle of vodka.
"Oh, I get so high...... when I'm around you baby...I.. can touch the sky...." 
she sang as she pranced around on the counter.  The men were hooting and 
hollaring.  Heck, some were even waving dollar bills at her.  The bartender 
watched with a sympathetic look in his eyes... but not without a shimmer
of interest accompanying it.
"Thank God she still has her clothes on......" Mulder thought as he tried 
pushing through the crowd, "But not for long.." resounded a voice from the back 
of his mind.
"Hmmm... she's pretty good...."
He shook that thought out of his mind immediately.  He had to get her out of 
here.  Shoving past a few more people, he cupped his hands over his mouth and 
hollared, "Scully!  C'mon.. we're going home",  his voice breaking through the 
pandemonium that surrounded him.
She paused, blinked twice dreamily, and glanced down at Mulder, who was standing 
there with his hand stretched toward her.
"Mulder..." she cooed as she hiccuped.  "How nice of you to come.. I'm jus' 
having a little fun, honey." she said as she flashed him a crooked smile. Her 
speech was slurred and she was swaying back and forth, coming dangerously close 
to toppling right off the counter.  After lifting the bottle of vodka to her 
lips and 
taking another swig, she tossed it over her shoulder.  As the bottle shattered 
against the wall, much to the agitation of the bar tender, she burst into song 
once more.  This time it was melodic lines of Mariah Carey's "Honey".
" And it's just....like.... honey.. when your love.. comes...over me....".  
Before she could burst into another verse, Mulder stepped onto a stool, grabbed 
Scully around the waist and lifted her off the counter with one arm.  "You've 
had enough fun, Scully...." 
Once her feet touched the ground, she started leaning to the right.  Mulder 
quickly pulled her body towards his to support her as turned, praying
that he could get her to the door without too much trouble.
 " Hey, buddy...  what do you think you're doing?" protested one of the men as 
he stepped in front of them.  So much for that thought.
"Hi Bobby!" chirped Scully. 
"Jesus!" thought Mulder. "She knows these guys by name already?"  He tried 
shoving past the man. "I'm getting her out of this hellhole..." he said through 
clenched teeth, giving the guy a glare.
"No you aren't..  she's the entertainment...." the guy said as he grabbed 
Mulder's shoulder.  That was it.  He had had enough of this shit.  All he wanted 
to do was to get his partner out of here.. away from these people=
.  In one fluid motion, he 
swung around and pounded his fist into the man's jaw, sending him backwards into 
two other drunken men.  Then he turned back just in time to catch Scully
before 
she fell over without his body to stabilize her.  Picking her up, he shouldered 
his 
way out the bar door and started running toward his car.  
The bartender's voice rose above the others as he made his mad dash.  "Hey! that 
must be that Mulder guy she was bitching about! Someone go kick his ass!"  A 
roar of approval followed his statement.
"What the *hell*!?" wondered Mulder before it dawned on him.  He had done this 
to her.  He had done something to hurt her...something that drove her to drown 
her sorrows at a bar.  Guilt swept over him like a tidal wave as memories of  
her cancer flashed across his mind.  It had been his fault then too. "Mulder, 
you're one sorry sonofabitch." he mumbled to himself as he realized that he 
couldn't figure out what he had done this time to hurt her.  
As he approached the Ford Taurus, he could hear angry shouts behind him.
 Scully 
giggled and kicked her feet enthusiastically, seemingly enjoying this little 
adventure.  Mulder dropped her quickly into the passenger seat of his car before 
running over to the other side and getting in himself.
Scully suddenly spoke up. " Why do you always get to drive?  Cuz you're the guy?  
Cuz you're the big macho...." 
"Oh, don't start that again, Scully...."  he said as he stuck the key into the 
ignition just as the men in the bar came pouring out, hollaring angrily.
He stepped on the gas and sped out of the parking lot.  He heard a beer can 
bounce off his window as he left.  He glanced over at Scully.  She had her eyes 
closed and apparently had fallen asleep.  Running his fingers through his hair, 
he breathed a sigh of relief.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ten minutes later they arrived at his appartment.  Mulder stepped out of
the car 
and opened the door on Scully's side.  Kneeling down, he gently shook her 
shoulder to wake her.  Her eyelids fluttered open and she smiled tiredly
at 
him.
"Hi Mulder.." she whispered.
"Hi Scully.." he replied softly as he took her hand and pulled her out of the 
car.  She immediately began leaning heavily against him.  For a brief moment, he 
realized the awkwardness of the situation... how strangely dependent on him she 
had become. He slowly led her up the stairs and down the hall to his apartment.  
She had always taken care of him when he needed her... when his water supply 
had been poisoned with cyanide and he had become weak from drinking it.... when 
he had almost died in the Arctic.  The least he could do was make sure she was 
safe until she was sober again.  
He was brought back from his thoughts when he felt her hot breath against his 
neck, folowed by her lips.  Her soft, moist lips began planting kisses along his 
jawline, and she began giggling like a school girl.
"Stop it, Scully," he said as he jerked his head to the other side, feigning 
annoyance when in reality he was getting incredibly turned on. His eyes almost 
slipped shut in sheer indulgence before he caught himself.
"I don't wanna......" she hissed before she started up again.  He tried to 
ignore it as he fumbled with his keys and opened his apartment door.  Kicking 
away empty food cartons and magazines scattered all over his floor, he led her 
over to the couch.  When he let go of her, she dropped onto it almost instantly.  
"Scully... you're drunk.." he said slowly as she tried to make an effort
to sit 
up. 
"No I'm not.." she said as she shook her head from side to side.
"Yes you are, Scully.."
"AAAAAARRRGGHHH!" she screamed as she looked up at him with fire in her eyes.  
He stepped back, startled.
"Stop calling me Scully!  My name's Dana, dammit!  Dana!  D-N-A, Dana!!!"
"Ok..Ok..." he said as he raised his hands in surrender. "Dana."   He stifled a 
laugh.    D-N-A, Dana?
Her expression softened at the sound of her name and she stood up slowly, 
pushing herself up from the couch.  He noticed the change immediately.  Her eyes 
darkened, and her expression became flooded with the longing that=
 haunted her soul. She slowly stepped toward him and began licking her lips 
seductively.  He looked at her apprehensively.
"Oh God....." he thought to himself as he realized what was coming.
"Mulder..... you're a damn good-looking man..." she said, her voice dripping 
with honey as she unbuttoned the third button on her blouse.  He reached
out  
briskly and gently took her hands in his, pulling them away from her shirt.  
This was 
wrong....
"Scul.... Dana, don't do that." he said.  That took much more self-control than 
he 
was letting on.  He couldn't betray his cool exterior, especially under these 
circumstances in which he had to think rationally for both their sakes.  It was 
apparently his duty now to salvage thier professional relationship, a job he 
already hated doing. 
" Oh, Scully....you don't know how much I... but I can't... not this way... I 
can't take advantage of the situation.." he thought to himself as he looked at 
her longing expression, her eyes reflecting the inner conflict she was 
experiencing... the same inner conflict he was experiencing himself at the 
moment.
Her lower lip stuck out in a pout.  She was clearly wounded.  Her eyes welled up 
with tears of desperation as she stepped back.
"You think I'm ugly..." she whimpered.
"No..no, Dana.. it's not that...." he started as he stepped toward her slowly.  
A tear spilled out of her eye onto her cheek and made its slow journey down to 
her chin.
"You think I'm fat and ugly.. and you don't want me no more...." she whined as 
she rubbed away the tear.
"Don't cry.." he pleaded, placing a hand on her shoulder gently.  "What a mess." 
he thought to himself.  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
"There's someone else, isn't there?" she sobbed, looking up into his face.
"No...."
"Oh, my gosh!" she gasped as she shook away his hand.  "It's Skinner, isn't it?  
I knew it all along!" 
"What?"  he asked in disbelief.  Exactly how many glasses of alcohol did
she 
have?
Suddenly, she jerked her head up, balled her hand into a fist and punched Mulder 
hard in the stomach.
"Ooooff," he groaned as he winced and clutched his abdomen. She was stonger than 
she looked.  Much stronger. He ducked quickly as she lunged forward and swung 
again, this time for his head.  He was able to avoid two more swings before she 
kicked him in the shin and he fell over against a wall, bringing his hands up to 
block any more 
blows.
And just as suddenly as she had started, she stopped, gasping for breath.  He 
sat on the floor doing the same.  She looked at him and burst into fits of 
laughter.
"What's so funny?" he croaked after he had finished coughing.  He looked
at her, 
standing in the middle of the room, just about ready to fall over herself.
"I beat you up!"  she said in between chuckles. "You got beat up by a girl!!"  
Then she really did collapse, rolling all over the carpet in laughter.
Mulder rolled his eyes as he painfully stood up and walked cautiously over to 
her.  There was no point in arguing that he *let* her beat him up.  In fact, he 
wasn't even sure if that was true.  He bent down, grabbed her hand and pulled 
her to her feet, relieved when she didn't try hitting him again.
"Come on," he said softly. "You better get some sleep, Dana."
Her laughter subsided as she frowned at him.  "Don't call me Dana.  Call
me 
Scully.  I even made my parents call me Scully."
Mulder didn't bother to hold back his laughter this time.  It came out softly, 
but genuinely, and she smiled at the sound of it.  He put his arm around 
her shoulders and led her back to the couch.  He didn't have a bed.
She sat down and positioned herself so that she was curled up like a kitten,  
but as Mulder turned to get a few blankets so he could sleep on the
floor, he felt a tug at his jacket.
"Fox.... stay here with me." she pleaded with a whimper.  He paused before 
placing 
himself next to her on the couch.
"All right... if you promise to be good.." he said jokingly with a tired
smile.
She looked up into his face with her big blue eyes before closing them and 
whispering, "'Kay... I promise.."  She placed an arm across his chest and her 
head on his shoulder against his neck.  A small sigh escaped her lips. He looked 
down as her eyelids slowly closed shut. Mulder gently laid his own head onto 
her's, burying his nose into her hair and inhaling the sweet
fragrance of her strawberry shampoo.
"Mulder?" she murmured, her eyes still closed.
"Hmmm?" 
"I love you."
He smiled as he closed his eyes. "I love you too, Scully."  His soflty pressed 
his lips lovingly onto her forehead before drifting into sleep himself.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Scully woke up with a pounding headache.  She realized with a start that
she was enveloped in someone's arms, and looking up quickly, she realized it was 
Mulder, who was still sleeping.
"Mulder..." she callled softly.  He groaned as he slowly opened his eyes
and rubbed them, taking his arms away from her.
"How do you feel, Scully?" he asked with concern etched in his face as he 
brushed a trendil of hair away from her face with his finger.
She rubbed her temple.  "Like my head is about to blow up.  But I'll be fine, 
Mulder.  What happened?"
He smiled slightly before answering.  "You got drunk at a bar and started 
singing and dancing on the counter."  
She shook her head in disbelief.  "Oh, my God...  I'm so embarassed..." s=
he 
moaned. pressing her hands over her eyes as images came floating back to
her.
"No.... you don't have to be.  You're pretty talented Scully.  You were a big 
hit with the guys at the bar.  Ever consider a job in show business?" he
asked 
jokingly.
The corners of her mouth twitched as she tried holding back a smile. "And give 
up working with you?  Never."  
"Scully... do you..." he began, but stopped, breathed in sharply, then started 
again. "Do you remember anything from last night?  Anything you said?"
She knitted her eyebrows before answering. "No, I don't Mulder.  It's all a 
haze.  I'm sorry.  Why do you ask?"
"No reason. Just curious," he replied with a sigh.  "Oh well..." he thought 
wistfully. "Someday...."
In truth, She had a pretty good idea of what she had said and done that night.  
After all, alcohol didn't create thoughts and feelings, but simply weakened the 
holder enough to allow them to be exposed.  However, admitting this fact to 
herself and to Mulder would easily destroy their existing relationship.  Their 
professional relationship.  Their *platonic* relationship.
"Mulder, It's 7:30.  Can you take me back to my apartment? I have to change for 
work." Scully said, gingerly fingering her ripped skirt.
"Sure," he said,  helping her stand up from the couch.  "Back to work..." he 
thought to himself with a smile.  "Back to the old Scully.......and just
when I 
was starting to like the new one too..."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

THE END
That's all folks! I'll bet you all want to kill me for making this a UST
instead of a MSR, huh? Don't worry.. I'll make it up to y'all in my next
piece (hint hint)! Send all comments to Moonie777@aol.com