From: jzyvarek@udel.edu (Jzyvarek)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: Pizza,Wine, Vodka, and a Fistfight
Date: 11 Dec 1995 15:00:41 -0500


ok, this one is based almost entirely on a true story.  except that i am
not an fbi agent and it did not involve my partner. just somebody i worked
with. and it was a t a party... let me know what you think, i alreayd know
this isn't one of my best. i just thought it was funny. and i had such a
great time that night that i wanted to share it with all of you...
later,jessica ;-) comments to jzyvarek@udel.edu

Pizza, Wine, Vodka, and a Fistfight
 Ouch. Everything hurt.  Every single part of her body.  And the sun was
out to get her.  She was sure of it. She tried to stand up to shut the
cutains, but she was tangled up in the blankets and succeeded in doing
nothing but knocking herself of the bed. And that made everything hurt
even more.  Finally, she was able to stand up and turn out the lights.  It
was the  middle of the day and the lights were on.  She tried to remember
exactly how she'd gone to bed with the lights on and couldn't figure it
out. Giving up on understanding how she got to feel like this, she headed
for the shower.  It would definitely make her feel better.  She stepped
under the stream of water and sighed, thankful for the relaxing feel of
hot water.  Then it hit her.  The smell.  It was so strong, she almost
gagged, reminding her stomach that it was rather upset at her.  It was
beer.  Definitely beer.  She didn't know why she smelled like beer.  She
didn't even like beer.  But it was quite definitely all over her.  After
washing her hair about seven times, almost satisfied that the smell was
gone, she got out of the shower and put on her robe.  Then she looked at
the sweater that she'd been wearing.  The white sweater.  The one with the
streaks of beer and large orange and yellow pizza sauce-colored stains all
over it.  It smelled too, as did her jeans.  She'd gone to bed fully
dressed. Why didn't she remember this? 
  Confused, she stumbled out to the kitchen, hoping coffee was going to
fix whatever mess she was currently in the midst of.  But the smell alone
was enough to turn her stomach.  She gave up and put the coffee pot away.
She walked to her living room, intent on curling up on the couch and
sleeping through the next five years.  As she sat down on the couch, she
noticed something strange.  
  The couch had feet. And the couch didn't much care for her sitting down.
 In fact, it sat up and blinked at her before groaning and falling back
down.  OK, so it wasn't the couch.  It was Mulder.  He didn't seem to be
taking much better to the daylight than she was. And he smelled three
times worse.
  And then she remembered.
 
  It had been a boring Friday.  The perfect end to a perfectly boring
week. And Mulder suggested pizza and movies.  But Scully didn't want to go
out.  They'd decided to rent movies and then order in.  And it would have
been fine.  Except that Mulder'd shown up with the movies and two bottles
of wine.  And Scully had wine coolers in the fridge.  And the night went
downhill fron there. 
  She'd insisted that they eat before they watched the movies.  She didn't
want to get pizza on the couch.  It would never come out.  So, between the
two of them, they finished off one bottle of wine before the movies even
started. Scully'd eaten less and drank more so, she decided that she
really wanted to watch the movies and she was still hungry and eating on
the couch would now be permitted.  Mulder didn't argue.  When he ate,the
food usually ended up in his mouth. Usually.  And he didn't plan on having
a food fight. Plan being the operative word. Not even halfway into the
movie, the second bottle had disappeared and Scully made two trips into
the kitchen for her wine coolers. Two trips because the first time she got
there, she forgot what she was looking for. And two wine coolers into the
pack, Mulder produced a bottle of vodka.  It had seemed really funny at
the time.  Really funny. And that was when the fight started.
  He poured a shot into the glass in front of him.  Scully laughed.  For
no reason, she just really felt like laughing. And he joined her.  But she
thought he was laughing at her. So she stopped laughing.
  "Don't laugh at me." Her voice was a little higher than normal. But
still understandable.  When he didn't obey, she tried again "DON'T LAUGH
AT ME!" Way too loud. Way way way too loud.  
  So he laughed harder.  Then more upset she got, the funnier it got. 
Three shots later, he thought everything was funny. And then a piece of
cheese hit him right in the face.  He retaliated, even though he was still
laughing. 
  The pizza hit her right on the front of her sweater. She was not happy.
So she threw a whole piece at him.  And she missed.  It landed top down on
the couch. She wanted to cry.  And he was laughing at her.
  "So what! I don't plan on entering a pizza throwing contest any time
soon." She knew her voice was too loud and she really was trying to stop,
but she kept forgetting. 
  "Good, cause you'd lose." To punctuate the fact that he was doing better
than her, he picked up the slice of the couch and placed it in her face. 
And he held it there until she screamed. She looked even funnier with
tomato sauce and cheese on her face.  He was  laughing so hard that his
stomach hurt.  It didn't occur to him that his stomach hurt for entirely
different reasons.  And it didn't occur to him to stop drinking.
  It didn't occur to her either.  And she decided that shots of vodka were
more fun than the wine coolers.  So she picked up the bottle.  The bottle
seemed really really heavy. She let it go.  Between the two of them, they
got the bottle off the floor before all of it soaked into the carpet. She
returned to her mission of getting a shot of vodka. She didn't see any
empty glasses.  Of course, she was in the living room, so the only glass
at all was the one Mulder was using. She knew there was no way she could
make it out to the room where the glasses normally were since the room was
spinning so much more than it did on a regular basis.  She decided that
she was drinking the vodka, glass or not.  She simply started taking
swings from the bottle.  Mulder pulled it out of her hands.  
  "Hey, don't drink all of it!" He was sure that if he just drank a little
more, then his stomach would calm down.
  They were quiet for a minute, passing the bottle between them.  And then
Scully broke the silence. "You now, whoops. I meant-  I could beat you if
we ever had a fist fight, you know that?"
  The thought struck Mulder as hilarious.  No way was she beating him in a
fist fight.  She was way to drunk.  But he hadn't exactly taken stock of
how much he'd had recently. "Noway." One word.  For some reason, the words
forming in his head weren't coming out of his mouth like he'd intented.
  "YES I COULD!" She didn't even notice that she was screaming this time. 
  Mulder resorted to shaking his head.  He didn't trust his mouth anymore.
 She didn't like that answer. 
  "Then I'll prove it." She spoke slowly and carefully, making sure the
words came out right. "Let's go outside." Then she stood up and the room
really started to spin. But she made it outside. And he followed her. She
leaned against him because she wasn't sure if she could stand up anymore
by herself."Mulder, I'm cold. Why are we out here?"
  He shook his head.  She was definitely much worse off than him. "You
challenged me to a fight, you drunken fool." He was just kidding. 
  But she was drunk and didn't think it was very funny."Then we'll fight."
With that, she launched herself at him, making a pretty good attempt to
wrap her hands around his throat.
  He started to cough and pulled her hands loose.  She was actually
trying, as hard as she could in her state, to strangle him. "Ok, you win,
let's go back in."
  She started to laugh.  "Back in where?"  Now her entire body weight was
resting against him.  And she didn't even know it until he lost his own
balance and the two of them ended up on the ground.  
  They sat there laughing for a good ten minutes, freezing.  And then they
remembered that they had wanted to go back in.  When they made it back
inside, Mulder was still laughing.  And it was at her.  She'd tried to go
to the wrong apartment and then had literally fallen in the door of her
own place.  And Scully still didn't get it, or like it, even though she
was laughing herself. She picked up the bottle of vodka and threatened him
with it.  
  "Stop laughing at me now or I'll dump this over your head." He thought
she was kidding.  So he kept laughing.  And then she dump the bottle over
his head.
  He stood completely still for quite a few mintues trying to process what
had happened.  He was now soaking wet and he smelled and there was nothing
left to drink. He tried the fridge.   In the very back, pushed behind
everything else that was there was a bottle of beer. And grinned and
grabbed it. "Hey, Scully, one word: RUN."
  She didn't know what he was talking about.  She was too busy staring at
the television.  It wasn't even turned on anymore, but for some odd
reason, it had become rather fascinating. Mulder walked up behind her and
without one more word of warning, dumped it over her head. And for the
second time that night, the second time in all the years he'd known
her,she screamed. But she didn't make any attempts to move. She'd actually
forgotten that she had the ability.
  Satisfied with his revenge, he sat, tripped, actually, next to her on
the couch and finshed off the bottle of beer,  Scully found the remains of
his glass of vodka and drank it.  Then she dropped the glass on the floor
and fell back on the couch. She was out cold before Mulder managed to drag
her back the hall.  Not that he was in much better shape. 
  After he'd pretty much tossed her on the bed, he paused, trying to form
a few thoughts.  But it was difficult. It did occur to him that she'd be
uncomfortable if she was sleeping in her clothes. But then, she wasn't
sleeping, she was passed out. He sat on the corner of the bed for a
moment, not entirely trusting his legs to carry him.  But he had enough
sense to know that he wasn't in any shape to drive. So he literally drug
himself out to the couch and finally allowed himself to pass out.
  Thinking it over, she wanted to die.  She couldn't believe that she'd
gone and gotten completely drunk to the point of passing out.  And she
couldn't believe that she'd done it with Mulder.  One of them should have
had enough sense to stop this. She slid off the couch and began attempting
to clean up the room.  There was pizza pretty much all over, vodka st,
looaining the carpet, and empty plates and bottles all over the floor. 
But leaning forward, her hear reminded her that she'd drank well over half
of the mess she saw in front of her.  She was too tired to clean it up. 
So she decided instead to stumble back the hall and grab a handful of
aspirin and a glass of water.  She took half the pilss, and then placed
the other half, as well as the remainder of the water, on the coffee
table, where Mulder would find it immediately upon waking up. She was
going to go back and sleep in her bed, but suddenly, it seemed like such a
long way off and the couch, even with another person on it looked really
comfortable.  She squeezed herself on the edge and out of it as he wa,
Mulder slid over to give her more room.  The last thing she felt before
she fell back asleep was Mulder's arm sliding around her waist.
  The first thing Mulder noticed upon waking up was that he couldn't
breathe.  But that probably had to do with the hair that he'd somehow
buried his head in.  Still, it smelled good, definitely smelled better
than he did, and it was comfortable.  Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly
remember who's hair it was.  He pushed himself up, just a little, because
for some reason, it hurt like hell. He immediately reognized the room. 
And then he recognized the hair. He'd never seen it that close up before. 
That was all he thought of before the room started to spin around again.
And then he noticed the water and aspirin. And he was actually able to
smile. She must be feeling a lot worse than he was and she'd still thought
of him. 
  After gulping down the aspirin and water, he realized that he needed to
return the favor.  So he slid out from behind her on the couch and started
picking up what he could.  He discovered that if he moved very, very
slowly, then hte room wouldn't spin.  And that's how he was able to get
the place more or less straightened up.  He tried to clean up the spot the
vodka had left on the rug, but without more than a wet rag, he couldn't
get very far.  All he'd succeeded in doing was making the room smell even
more.  If that was possible.  He wasn't exactly helping, since he was
wearing as much, if not more, than the carpet.  And there was no way he
could get the pizza out of the couch without waking her up. Satisfied that
he'd done all he could feeling the way he did, he decided that he'd earned
a shower. And since he didn't have any other clothes than the ones he was
wearing, he decided that they were all getting a shower together. He'd
momentarily forgotten how uncomfortable wet jeans were.  And once he was
sufficiently not smelly, he stood in the middle of her bathroom floor
dripping.  He now couldn't leave the bathroom until he was dry because
he'd already ruined enough of her furniture and the living room rug. 
  He'd settled himself uncomfortably next to the bathtub when she finally
woke up and went looking for him. Even the way she was feeling, it was
hilarious to see Mulder looking like a drowned rat curled up asleep
leaning his head on the bathtub.  She didn't want to know why he'd gotten
in the shower with all his clothes on, but she did note how much better he
smelled when she woke him up. Neither of them could think of anything
appropriate to say, so Mulder just grabbed his coat and his keys and left.
  And Monday, when he got to work, he found a cleaning bill from Stanley
Steamer for the carpet and couch cleaning.
  And Tuesday, when she came into work, she found the dry cleaning bill
for his coat sitting on top of her desk.
 
 ****************************************************************
i will reiterate: true story. comments please!!!!!!!!!!!! later,jesica ;-)
(jzyvarek@udel.edu)
 
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i don't know and i don't care if i ever will see you again   
i don't know and i don't care if i ever will be there
(lisa loeb- do you sleep)

if we weren't all crazy, we would go insane
(jimmy buffet-changes in latitudes,changes in attitudes)

you belong somewhere you feel free
(tom petty- wildflowers)

you're not too tired for this life and it's not going to matter if you
fall down twice
(lisa loeb-snow day)
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