What if someone gave Scully a life that *didn't* involve sleazy
bars and icky pick-ups? What if the woman actually *has* a GASP!
*social life*!!!! Yes, Our Lady Dana, not-quite-a-saint, Scully of
the FBI, has a, say it all together now  children, PARTAY!!! And that 
utter cock, Fox William Mulder is *not* inivited. You know why?
Because he's a COCK!!! 'Nuff said.

Disclaimer: Look, dammit, don't sue me all right? I know damn well I
            didn't ask you could I play with your toys Mr. I-know-so-
            damn-much-my hair-stands-on-end-because-my-brain-produces-
            so-much-electricity. I didn't ask Fox Network if I could
            play with their toys, either. But I asked Dana and Fox if
            I could play with them and they said I could, so there!!!
            Nah,nah,nah,nah,boo-boo.

Rating: Look, if you're old enough to partay!!!! you're old enough to
        read this. Down with ratings!!! They stifle an individual's
        sense of self. 

Partay!!!!
by 
Who else's stories are on this page? Answer me that, Turnbull!!!
(sorry...extraneous and gratuitous Due South reference there.)

    The music was live, loud and pumpin'. The remixes were spinning,
the booze was flowing, and the cheezy poufs were disappearing faster
than if Eric Cartman was there himself. People were crammed into just
about every available space gyrating along with the beat. It was hot, 
dark, and getting to that point were there was *just* a hint of 
palpable sweat hanging over the apartment. 
    *Oh yeah...Now *this* is a par-tay!* Scully thought. Hell, it 
seems that what no one would've ever expected was that Scully could
throw a kick-ass party. Her frosty image kinda precluded it. But
judging from the number of people sweating their drunk asses off to
Cam'ron and Mase's "Horse and Carriage" the rumors were untrue.
    *Ha. And I was *not* going to invite that cock, Mulder, to MY
lovely party. He doesn't deserve it. He's only my pet, able to enjoy
himself when *I* say so, and I DON'T say so! Bwahahahahaha! Oh, shit,
they're dancing on the table again.*
    Scully got the drunk fools off of her coffee table before the
glass shattered. Making a tour of the room, she saw the refreshments
were gone. So she went to the kitchen to get some more cheezy poufs 
and chips. There was a crowd around the keg of Rolling Rock. And not
enough cups. She tossed a package of them over to the mob and the 
dispensing of beer was under way again.
    The phone rang. One of the guests picked it up. 
    "Hello?" The young man yelled over the blare of the music.
    "Hello? Is this the Scully residence?" We all know who it is, but
if you don't, well, then, I'll tell you, it was none other than our
favorite Cock, Fox William Mulder.
    "Scully? Ohhh, you mean Dana, right, dude?"
    "Yeah." Mulder replied hesitantly. "Is she there?"
    "I don't see her, dude. She must be somewhere makin' out with some
dude, man. Just between you and me, she is soooo hot. I wouldn't mind
havin' a piece of that, you know what I mean?"
    "Look, just put her on the damn phone."
    "I already told you, dude, I don't - wait, there she is. *Damn*!
She's lookin' as hot as ever. HEY!!! DANA!!!" The man yelled. 
    "WHAT?!!!" She answered back over the noise in the room.
    "PHONE!!!" Mulder took the phone away from his ear.
    "WHO IS IT?!!!"
    "SOME DUDE!!!"
    "THROW IT TO ME!!!" The dude threw the phone and Scully caught it
easily.
    "AND THE PASS IS GOOD!!!!" The dude flashed Scully a cheeky grin 
and a thumbs up.
    "Hello?"
    "Scully?"
    "OH! HI, MULDER!" Insert fake-ass-good-to-hear-from-you-voice here.
"What's up?"
    "I should be asking you that question. What is going on over 
there?"
    "I'm having a party!"
    "And you didn't invite me?"
    "Nope." *heh heh heh, you cock.*
    Mulder was reduced to whining. "But whyyyyy?"
    "Because, Mulder, I do-HEY!! GET OFFA THE DAMN COFFEE TABLE!!!"
    "People are on the coffee table?!!"
    "Duh, Mulder, duh." 
    "Look, can I come over?" He sounded sorry, sad, tired and pitiful.
So, being the not-quite-a-saint that Our Lady is destined to be, she 
felt compassion for the poor, friendless child that is Fox William 
Mulder, OFC. (Our Favorite Cock, just to make things a little easier)  
    "Yes, Mulder, you can come over, just don't stay too long." Hey,
she isn't quite a saint, after all.
    "Thank you," he replied pathetically, like a little puppy.
    "Just get your ass over here before I change my mind." She growled
at him before she slammed the phone down.
    Fifteen minutes later there was a loud, insistent knocking at the
door. Scully made her way over and looked through the peephole. Mulder
was standing out there with a shitload of case files and a shit eating
grin.
    *Fuck.* Scully opened the door and Mulder's mouth nearly dropped
open from shock. His lovely, irritating, buttoned-down Scully had on a
blue tank with the words "Porn Star" emblazoned on it in curvy silver
letters and a pair of those blue Adidas snappy pants all those damned
college kids wear and a pair of Birks. (Hey, why not? I hate those
boring-ass-non-work clothes they usually make her wear. It's not like
she *can't* wear it.) Her hair was in a loose ponytail with streaks of
blue and silver through it.
    "Hey, Scully. You look different." *Understatement of the year.*
    "Come on in." She stood aside and let him pass into the crowded,
hot, sweaty apartment. As he passed by her, noticed a bottle of Boone's
in her left hand. Scully closed the door and a cheer went up in 
the room as the Bloodhound Gang's "Lift Your Head Up High And Blow
Your Brains Out" began to play. It seemed like the entire apartment 
was vibrating with the music and the energy of the people dancing.
    "Gee, Scully, this is some party." OFC said, unnecessarily.
    *No shit, Mulder.* "Isn't it? Are those for me?" She gestured to
the shitload of files with the hand that was holding a bottle of 
Boone's.
    "Yeah."
    "Well, as you can see, I ain't doin' no work, Mulder. So you can
just toddle on back to Hegal Place."
    "Can't I stay and party?"
    "No, you cannot stay and partay. You don't know how to partay."
    "Who says?"
    "I say."
    "Oh, yeah?"
    "Yeah!"
    He looked at her mutinously and prepared to fire off some lame 
comment, but she beat him to the punch.
    "Well, Mulder, why don't you do me a favor?" He looked at her 
expectantly. (All you HCL fans should know what's coming) "FUCK OFF!!"
    He was speechless. And then he retaliated in kind.
    "Hey, Scully, read sign language?" He flipped her the bird.
    "Is that your IQ or the number of dipwads your mother had?" She
asked innocently.
    "Just take the damn files and shut up."
    "Gladly, if it'll get you outta here. Come with me." And as he 
followed her, he saw she not only had a bottle of liquor in her hand, 
but a fat, chronic blunt was clenched in between those slender fingers. 
She lead him into the bedroom, which was thankfully devoid of people.
    "Put them on the bed." THUMP! There was some sound in the room, 
but with all the other noise, they disregarded it.
    He put the paperwork on the bed. "You know, Scully, you're a mean
drunk." OFC strikes again. WHUMP! There it was again.
    "Only with you, darlin'." THUMP! WHUMP! "Goddammit." Scully said
as she crossed to the closet. She opened the door and a couple fell
out. "Get outta here! And don't come back!" They picked themselves off
the floor and scurried out of the room. "These people, I don't know 
why I even bothered to invite them. Now, if that's all you came here
for...get out."
    "Jesus, you're a mean bitch."
    "Thank you. I pride myself on my bitchery. Come on, Mulder, chop
chop. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here."
    Grumbling, Mulder exited the bedroom and crossed the living room 
to the door so he could leave. He was about to open the door when a 
familiar flash caught his eye. Mulder turned around...and there she 
was.
Marita. Dancing with Walter Sergei Skinner on the glass coffee table, no less.
    "HEY! DIDN'T I TELL YOU TWO TO STAY OFF OF THE TABLE?!!!" Scully 
pulled them down from their perch.
    "Marita and Skinner are here?!!!"
    "Of course they are." *Duh.* "I invited them."
    "You what?!!"
    Then a voice called from the general area of the kitchen. "Fox!"
    "Diana?!! You invited her, too?!!!"
    "Yep. I sure did. Spender and Tom Colton are, too. Along with Kim,
Skinner's secretary, Frohicke, Langly and Byers. The whole gang's here
Mulder."
    "You invited Spender and Colton, but you didn't invite me?"
    "Nope." She grinned at him rakishly.
    "And I can't believe you're smoking that thing with Skinner right there!"
    "Where do you think we got it from?" She replied. Mulder looked 
over at Skinner and sure enough, the AD was sharing a bowl with Marita,
who was so stoned she looked like she about ready for a threesome 
with Skinner and Krycek, who eyed his blonde ho' from across the room.
    "This is a disgusting display, Scully. I expected more from you."
    "You're such a tight ass, Mulder. You wanna know why I didn't
invite you, I'll tell you. You know those people you're only friends
with because you fell sorry for them? Well, Mulder...you're one of
those people. We're only friends with you because we feel sorry for 
you. Nobody likes you. We all think you're the most pretentious,self-
absorbed wanker we've ever met. A real cock. Now, is that clear? Have
I made it perfectly clear that you are a friendless child and no one
wants to play with lil' Fox?" Scully paused and she saw that Mulder
was on the brink of tears. He turned and walked out of the apartment.
    Spender oozed up to Scully, his brown leather pimp coat swinging
around his legs, red velvet platforms with the goldfish in the clear
sole of the shoe clacking on the floor, plethora of gold chains 
clinking. "I think you did the right thing. He's real dick." 
    Scully could hardly stomach the smell of his Drakkar Noir cologne,
and the long feather in his green suede fedora was tickling her nose. 
    "Hey, Sexy Scully, want to dance?"
    "Not on your life, you snake."
    "Hey, babe, everything's copacetic. Lemme know if you change your
mind." He slimed his way back to his ho', Diana, slutty as ever in a
black vinyl jumpsuit a la 'Austin Powers'. They gyrated together on 
the makeshift dance floor. She looked over at the CSM. He was dressed
in an outfit similar to his son's. CSM gave SuperPimp, jr. a thumbs-up
and a wink. Scully rolled her eyes and shook her head.
    * Like father, like son. A match made in heaven. Speaking of
soulmates...I better go make it up to him. Damn.* Scully went to the
hall closet and pulled out a black leather jacket. She left the party
in full swing to go after OFC. Now, if that's not love, I don't know 
what is.
    She jumped in her car and sped after him. Scully caught up with 
him at an intersection. She rolled down the window and yelled across
to him.
    "HEY! MULDER!"
    He looked over and saw her there along side his car.
    "WHAT?!"
    "WANNA RACE?!" Scully gunned the engine.
    Mulder could never resist a challenge. He revved *his* engine. The
light turned green and he yelled "EAT MY DUST!!!"
    The two cars shot off down the street. But since Scully was
driving a blue Mustang, a la "Chinga", and the thing *was* a stick and 
she could switch gears well because she had dinky little feet, she won.
    They decelerated and eventually pulled up at curbside.
    "Damn, Scully. I had no idea you could drive like that!"
    "With two brothers? You better believe I can handle myself in an
automobile." She grinned at him. "Now, about what I said back there..."
    Mulder's face fell. "That's all right. You're right. I *am* self-
absorbed. If nobody wants to be my friend, then it's nothing more than
I deserve."
    It was on the tip of Scully's tongue to agree with him, but then
she looked at him and saw the pitiful expression on his face. 
    "Mulder...*I* want to be your friend again."
    "Really?" He looked like a little boy.
    "Yes, Mulder. What do you say? You can come back and partay with 
me and everybody else. Hell, I'll even let you kick Spender and Diana
out."
    "For real?"
    "No, Mulder, for play. Now, come on. You've already missed
too much partying for one night."
    They climbed back into their cars and went back to the party. 
Mulder was able to kick Diana and Spender back to the gutter they 
climbed out of and everyone partied happily ever after. Or at least
until everyone went home.
End.
***********************************************************************
Was that sufficiently horrid? I hope so. I had to get it out of my 
system. Hmm...maybe I can go back to "Think Again" and the "Valentine's
Day" series now.