Date: Mon, 17 Mar 1997 14:20:12 +0000 From: "Denise A. Agnew" Subject: NEW: (1/2) Leprechans by D. Agnew Please don't post this fan fiction on atxc. I'll do that myself. Any other archives, please let me know if you decided to archive this piece. Thank you. Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the television program "The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Spoilers: None Rating: PG Classification: H, UST Summary: Mulder and Scully discover during a St. Patrick's Day party that everyone thinks they are doing the wild thing. Author's Note: I love St. Patrick's Day! Must be the Irish in me. :) I seriously doubt if Chris Carter would let Scully and Mulder act the way they do in this piece, but you judge for yourself. I'd love to hear what you think of it. The Leprechauns Have Landed (1/2) By Denise A. Agnew writer@agnewdt.demon.co.uk Skinner's Conference Room FBI Headquarters Monday, 9:45am St. Patrick's Day "Ouch! Mulder, stop poking me with that thing. It's as hard as a rock." "If you'd just get both hands around it and pull it up-" "Mulder!" "All right already. Here. Move to the left a little more and then you'll be able to touch it." Scully scowled at Mulder as she bent slightly at the waist and tried to reach the huge cardboard shamrock Mulder held up to her. But, try as she might, she couldn't quite reach one of the four scalloped edges of the green cut out. "You're going to have to get on the ladder." The blaze in his eyes was a second shy of becoming thunderous. He realized he was being cranky because he was worried about her falling off the ladder. "You shouldn't even be up on this ladder in the first place. I should be up there. I'm a lot taller than you." She glared at him. "Just hand me the damned shamrock." Mulder sighed and stepped up one rung of the ladder to pass her the green contraption. He couldn't believe he'd gotten roped into this anyway. When Skinner had announced a couple of weeks ago that he was having a small St. Patrick's Day party in his conference room, Mulder had snickered. Skinner was not amused. Therefore, Mulder had found himself summarily volunteered against his will to help Scully with decorations. Almost as surprising that Skinner would have a party in the first place was that Scully would eagerly volunteer. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her so enthusiastic over a holiday. True, she had Irish ancestry, but it was Mulder's experience that about 99.9% of the population of the United States claimed Irish blood when St. Paddy's Day came around. If only to have a reason to drink Guinness and sing Oh Danny Boy when they couldn't carry a tune in a bag. Perhaps it was his inattention, or the fact that Mulder had big feet, but the ladder got a mind of its own and decided right then it was going to tip to the side. Scully let out a gasp, and then a squeak as the ladder disappeared beneath her feet. Mulder cursed and had one thought. Keep her from being hurt. He did the only thing he could. Catch her. While she wasn't very heavy, her momentum hit him square in the chest as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. He stumbled under the force and fell straight back, barely missing the corner of a table. "Ooof!" The jarring impact with the floor stole his breath, and for a few moments he couldn't do anything but lay like a beached whale trying to suck in oxygen. Scully struggled in his arms, and when she twisted she ended up facing him. Where he would have hoped that she'd be appreciative he'd saved her from injury, instead her blue eyes turned green with irritation. Green. Irish. He wanted to giggle, but instead he coughed. "Let me go," she said in a deadly soft voice that sent chills up his spine. Unable to draw a deep breath, he allowed the feel of her curvaceous figure pressed tightly to him to distract him from her request. Hell, no. This felt too good. Opportunity was at hand. Literally. When he didn't move, and she began to struggle again, he decided her squirming body wasn't exactly helping his libidinous thoughts to calm down. "Mulder, I swear, if you don't let me go now, I'm going to make sure Gabriella Fortuna corners you at the party tonight." Oh, oh. Not big, bad Fortuna. Gabriella Fortuna was tall, blonde, and exceptionally exquisite, but she was also a barracuda and Mulder didn't relish being caught in her ravenous jaws. She'd taken a piece out of him yesterday when he'd hurled one of his more temporal statements at her, and she'd come back with a riposte that outstripped him of the heavy weight title. He released her, and when she stood up she began to dust off her clothes with angry swipes. "Mulder, I ought to kick your-" He let out a heavy cough, and closed his eyes. Scully paused and looked down on him. Oh, my God! Had she hurt him when she fell on him? He did look awfully pale. "Mulder?" Kicking into doctor mode despite the dusty floor, she sank down on her knees beside him and touched his shoulder. "Mulder, are you okay?" He kind of liked the concern in her voice, but he realized if he played wounded fly boy too long she was likely to hit him in the chops once she realized he wasn't damaged. Inhaling heavily, he gasped, "I'm fine." "That's my line." She stood up and resumed dusting off her clothes. "I think my suit is ruined." He sat up slowly and groaned. "I'll buy you another if you promise not to let Gabriella within a hundred yards of me. She's a shark." Pulling himself up, he felt every muscle protest as if he'd been in a race. "A very large, very angry Great White shark. And I think she'd like a chunk of me." She shook her head and put her hands on her hips. "You wish. Gabriella's nice enough. You just don't like it when a woman comes onto you with both barrels blazing." Turning away from him, she picked up the heavy ladder and righted it again. "And you don't like it when they come on to me either," he said softly, letting the smallest of smiles curve his lips. Dropping her arms to her sides, she opened and closed her mouth like a fish a couple of times before a becoming pink surged into her cheeks. Wordlessly she stepped back to the ladder. "Oh, no you don't. You're not going up on that ladder again. I'll do it," he said, taking her arm and moving her out of the way. She liked the concern in his voice, and she had to admit it had been a not all together unpleasant sensation to be plastered against him. As he turned away from her to ascend the ladder, she noticed he had dust on his rear. She grinned and shoved away a salacious thought. She could just reach out and dust him off. "NOT," she said out loud. "Huh?" Mulder said, turning around and staring at her, his brows drawn together. "Uh...thanks for catching me," she said reluctantly. He stepped onto the ladder and went up a couple of rungs. "Get ready, Scully. If I fall off, it's your turn to get smashed. Hand me that stupid shamrock will you?" End Of Part One The Leprechauns Have Landed (2/2) Skinner's Conference Room Monday, 6:45pm St. Patrick's Day Scully had been at the party for an hour when she realized that Mulder wasn't going to show up. Several choice words popped into her head. Coward was the first one. Looking at the tall, leggy blonde across the room sealed Scully's belief that Mulder was a chicken of the biggest kind. So far Gabriella Fortuna hadn't spotted her, and for that Scully was grateful. The conference room was already full of people and threatened to burst at the seams. Most people had decided to forgo the silly green and silver pointy party hats and snake tongue noisemakers. The green punch and non alcoholic beer flowed freely, however, and conversation had risen to a headache inducing din. Scully saw Agent Pendrell across the room, and he lifted his green drink in salute. When she smiled at him, he promptly retrieved another punch glass and walked toward Scully. Oh, no. Scully looked to her left, then to her right, and decided there wasn't anywhere she could go without Pendrell realizing she'd deliberately run from him. "Enjoying the party?" Pendrell said as he came up to her. "As well as can be expected," she said as he handed her the punch. "Thanks." Pendrell leaned close. "Where's Mulder?" he asked softly. "Dare I hope he's been abducted by aliens?" Scully almost choked on her first sip of punch. "We should be so lucky. Actually, I think he's been turned into a chicken." She took another sip of the punch and grimaced at the taste. "Agent Pendrell, this punch is alcoholic." "I know. I spiked it." Astonished, she couldn't say a word for a moment. Finally, after taking another sip of the tasty, bubbly punch, she smiled. "If Skinner finds out we'll be in big trouble. He'll probably think Mulder and I did it since we helped set up." "Oh, don't worry. There's no chance of that." He smirked conspiratorially. "Your glass is the only one that's spiked." "What?" He wiggled his eyebrows and started to reply, but at that moment, he spied Gabriella Fortuna strolling through the crowd toward them. "Crap." Scully groaned internally and swallowed the remainder of her punch in one gulp. She handed Pendrell her cup. "Pendrell, I could use some more of that spiked punch." "Right away," he said, and scampered off, obviously glad for the opportunity to escape as the people around Gabriella moved out of her way like the sea had parted for Moses. As Gabriella glided toward her, Scully noticed that the sequined green dress Gabriella was wearing was about a size too small. It bulged and plumped in all the right places. Scully looked down at her suit and was glad she had enough sense not to dress like a Las Vegas show girl. "Dana." Gabriella sauntered up to Scully with a sway of her hips and a glint in her large, round, blue eyes. She swung her long, straight hair back from her face with a dismissive flick of her fingers. "What a nice...suit. So urbane. So...FBI." Scully strapped on her most pleasant face and thanked God she was such a good actress. "Gabriella. How are you?" "Splendid. Absolutely marvelous party." Her words were syrupy and sultry, and Scully wondered if Gabriella knew how ridiculously dramatic she sounded. Gabriella looked around the area immediately surrounding Scully and pouted. "Where is that delicious Agent Mulder?" Remembering a line from the movie Lethal Weapon 3, Scully looked at the bar behind her and then back at the buxom blonde. "Why, he's cowering on all fours behind the bar back there." Gabriella smiled, and her large, white teeth gleamed like an advertisement for a tooth paste commercial. "Okay, well, if you see him, you be sure to tell him I've got something for him." When the statuesque woman was out of ear shot Scully murmured, "I'll bet you have." Much to Scully's surprise, Gabriella disappeared and about two minutes later Pendrell brought her more spiked punch. Not long after, Scully was on her third glass, and Pendrell was tremendously pleased with himself. "Agent Scully, I hope I'm not being too forward, but would you mind if I give you a little a little personal advice?" Pendrell asked. Feeling distinctly fuzzy headed, she didn't really care what he asked. She rarely drank alcohol, and had forgotten how easy it was to get tipsy. The punch had been so delicious, however, she'd devoured it with out remorse. When she smiled at him he looked at little stunned, as if he were the proverbial deer caught in headlights. "Agent Pendrell, after this punch, you could probably ask me what color my underwear was and I wouldn't flinch." He turned bright red, straight from the roots of his hair down to his shirt collar. "Uh...well...uh, I don't think that'll be necessary. I did want to tell you...um...that people are taking bets." "Bets? As to which day Martians attack?" She took a sip of her punch. "No. They're taking bets on if you and Mulder are, ahem, you know. Doing the hunka chunka." With his usual fortuitous timing, Mulder appeared at the door to the conference room simultaneous with Pendrell's statement. This time Scully did choke on her drink, and Pendrell had to pat her on the back. She caught Mulder's gaze and he meandered through the crowd toward her and Pendrell. Pendrell seemed to think this was his signal to leave, and he disappeared into the boisterous crowd. "Whew, that was a close one," Mulder said as he approached. He looked around frantically, as if he expected sniper fire from all corners of the room. "I saw HER leave and thought now was my chance to sneak in." "Don't get too comfortable. I doubt she's left for good," Scully sputtered, still unnerved by Pendrell's blatant revelation. Mulder gave Scully conspiratorial smile. "She should be gone for at least a couple of minutes." "How do you know?" "I had her paged. She thinks Agent Pendrell is looking for her." "Why Agent Pendrell?" "She has the hots for him, too." "She could do a lot worse." Looking suspiciously wounded, Mulder said, "Are you implying wanting a piece of Pendrell is significantly more admirable than wanting me?" Scully didn't smile. Instead she raised a brow and gave him a superior look. "I think it's remotely possible someone might think you're hot, Mulder." "Where have I heard that before?" he asked. Then stiffened as if someone had jabbed him with a hot poker. "Oh, great." Calmly, she watched Gabriella sashay back into the room. "Watch out, Mulder. Incoming." He shifted his feet nervously, and he glanced a Scully. "Scully, you've got to do something." "No way. You got yourself into this, you can get yourself out." "Hey, this isn't my fault. She's a nymphomaniac." "Well at least you admit it isn't your unflappable, irresistible male charm that has her entranced." Scully finished her punch and set it on a table to her left. Mulder moved to stand slightly behind her. "Save me Scully." Not bothering to turn and look at him she said, "What do you want me to do? Pull out my gun and shoot her?" "Works for me." She shook her head and turned to him. "Time to face the music." As she gazed up at him she caught a quick spark in his eyes which should have tipped her off that she was in big trouble. Before she could protest, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. "Play along, Scully." "Mulder, what the hell are you doing?" She squirmed, but he only hugged her tightly to him. "People are staring." His gaze centered on Gabriella. "The torpedo is slowing down." Indeed, the hungry look had faded from Gabriella's eyes, and she stopped completely when Mulder suddenly dipped his head and kissed Scully full on the lips. The contact only lasted a few long seconds, but when Mulder drew back, Scully felt several emotions flare at one time. Anger, surprise, and...oh...oh... That damned punch. It had to be that punch. Little tingles like champagne bubbles seemed to pop and fizz within her head, and she felt like her endorphins had been flipped to high. "Damn it, Mulder," she said as she pulled from his arms. "Now everybody is going to believe what Pendrell said." "What did Pendrell say?" he asked, leaning in close to her and looking vastly pleased with himself. Sighing as she felt a blush equal to that of Pendrell's earlier display, she decided there was no point in trying to hide the effect Mulder's quick kiss had on her. She looked up at him and laughed. "He said that people are taking bets on whether you and I are doing the wild thing." Mulder laughed, and it was loud enough that several people turned to look at him. Their knowing expressions made Scully blush even more than she would have thought possible. "Scully, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were blushing." He'd remained close enough to touch, and his breath tickled her ear. People were still giving them knowing looks. She thought about the paperweight shamrock sitting on her desk that Mulder had brought her that morning and envisioned herself chucking it at him. "If it weren't a Federal offense, Mulder, I'd kill you." He didn't smile, instead he gazed at her steadily. "What was that green substance I tasted on your lips?" "Pendrell's recipe. He spiked my punch." Mulder's eyes widened. "Our Agent Pendrell?" He did grin this time and then lowered his voice. "Can I have another taste?" "Not even if Leprechauns landed on the White House lawn." As she stared at him with a ferocity designed to fry his cookies, he cocked one eyebrow. "Scully, are you angry?" She took a deep breath and decided that she was equally angry at Pendrell for spiking her punch and angry at herself for drinking it. That had to be why her pulse was still hammering frantically, and her face felt continually hot. "Don't worry, Mulder. Pay back is a bitch." She caught sight of Gabriella, and waved to her. "Scully, what the hell are you doing?" he whispered. "Extracting pay back." His mouth dropped open. "Close your mouth, Mulder, you're attracting flies." The End -- Denise A. Agnew