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  This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com
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***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references
in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter,
and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it.

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Everclear and Kool-Aid
by shannono
shannono@iname.com


Vignette, Maggie Scully first person, Mulder/Scully UST

Rated PG

Spoilers (minor) through "How the Ghosts Stole Christmas"

Summary: Maggie and Dana endure the New Year's Eve party 
from hell. Sequel to "Rum and Coke."

Author's notes: This may not be quite the sequel all of
you had in mind; it's certainly not what I expected. All
credit/blame for the POV to Brandon Ray, who gave me the
idea. <g> Also unedited, so any mistakes and/or confusion
are, once again, all my fault. (And yes, there's more 
coming ...)

Dedication: To my old college buddy Aaron, who won't read
this unless someone tells him to, for inspiring the title.
I never forgot the story he told about the most drunk he 
ever was ... <g>

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Everclear and Kool-Aid
by shannono


Ahhh, the neighborhood New Year's bash. Fifty or so people
related only by proximity, drinking way too much and trying
not to permanently insult each other. Of course, refusing
the invitation would have been the worst insult of all, so
here I am, dragging my reluctant daughter behind me.

I figure two hours should be enough punishment.

That's my Dana. Never one to put familial duty ahead of 
those in *real* need, especially during the holidays.

And is Fox ever in real need.

If it had been solely up to me, I wouldn't have said a word
about her late arrival on Christmas morning. But with Billy 
there, I had to do *something* to head off his annual 
blustering rant against Fox, so I built up a good Scully 
head of steam and told her I was "so disappointed" in her.
She, of course, apologized meekly, and agreed, however 
reluctantly, when I asked her to come to this shindig with 
me.

Shindig. Yeah, that's the name for it. Noisy, crowded, full
of drunks on their annual rampage. This is *not* the kind
of place you'd ever find me, if I didn't have to live with
these people the rest of the year.

Excuse my cynicism. It's not like me, but this party just
seems to bring out the worst, in everyone.

I'm not going to touch that bowl of punch with a ten-foot
pole. I made that mistake two years ago, and ended up with
a glass of a bright red concoction that burned my sinuses
when I sniffed it. I did a little investigating, and
discovered it was cherry Kool-Aid spiked with Everclear.

Lovely. Just the crowning touch they needed to make this
a real frat party.

Dana and I have been wandering together for over an hour
now, and I'm a bit surprised that I've attracted nearly
as many would-be suitors as she. Of course, the average
age of this crowd -- chronologically, not mentally --
is much closer to mine than hers.

So we're fending off passes as we go, my goal only to
make sure everyone knows I showed up, and then get us
both out of here in plenty of time for us to get back
where we want to be.

You see, for the past four years, I've brought in the New
Year in the same way -- on the front porch, alone with a 
glass of champagne, with my eyes tightly closed and the 
memory of Bill's arms around me. Last year, the porch was
Billy's, not mine, but I kept up the tradition.

This year, I want to be back at home.

As for Dana ... well, there's no way I'm going to let her
be alone tonight. I know what was happening this time
last year, and I know exactly where she needs to be 
tonight. She'd never admit it to *herself*, much less me,
but if she's still here or at my house when the clock 
strikes midnight, she'll never forgive herself.

So I'll give us another fifteen minutes of mingling
before we're out the door, and then I'm going to send
her on her way with instructions to wish Fox a Happy 
New Year from me.

And she'd better not try to resist. Because if I have
to drag her over there kicking and screaming, those two
are going to ring in this New Year together.

Call it my New Year's resolution.