From: gillianinchains@yahoo.com   
      
   Hellooo everybody! (Hi, Dr. Nick!) Okay so, I realize   
   this is the fourth time that I've posted this story,   
   (the 3rd in it's entirety) but I feel that I needed to   
   clarify a few things. Although there are real   
   individuals involved in this story, I need to state   
   that this needs to be classified as a parody/humor,   
   and that none of the individuals involved either   
   condone or encourage the use of drugs or alcohol, and   
   all of the activities within were inspired by   
   idealistic Cheech and Chong humor that my parents   
   listened to when I was growing up. Thank you.   
   Up for the down Stroke (or Kiss me on my Funky   
   Emotions)   
   Author:  gillianinchains   
   rating: NC-17 with all things funky   
   timeline:  around season 7, which was ripe with sexual   
   frustration   
   disclaimer and summary:  The characters of Fox Mulder   
   and Dana Scully are not mine. We all know who created   
   them, and it wasn't me. I'm just gettin' em funked up   
   in this biznatch. Anyhoo, this is a Scully pov,   
   involving   
    funkateers and the funk nasty. Good times had by all!   
      
      
                                   I'm at this point in   
   my life where I feel I'm going to die alone. Oh sure,   
   I have Mulder and our working   
   relationship, but it's odd how much he really *doesn't   
   know about me, considering all the years we've worked   
   together.   
   I don't feel that there's one person on this planet   
   that really knows all my likes and dislikes.   
                                  For example, I dislike   
   stirrup pants, Soccer moms, current popular music, and   
   NASCAR. However, I   
   love brushed cotton, my hidden DVD collection of   
   "South Park", and dancing around my apartment in my   
   underwear   
   to Parliment/Funkadelic. I love funk music; and I'll   
   make a bet that no one ever pinned me for that one.   
   *Especially* P-   
   Funk and most of the offshoot groups like Bootsy's   
   Rubber Band and the like. I've been loosely seeing the   
   shows on and   
   off for about twenty years, since I was a teenager and   
   I saw them for the first time at an outdoor festival.   
   This was back   
   when they still had the mothership, and  I was   
   completely just blown away by it. I only have one   
   other person in my life   
   that shares this particular obsession, my cousin   
   Erica, who's five years younger than I and is   
   currently living in St. Paul,   
   Minnesota. I don't see her that often anymore,   
   obviously due to proximity and my job, so I am   
   surprised to get a phone   
   call from her when I am actually at home.   
                                  "Dana! Hey, it's Erica,   
   what's going on? I haven't talked to you in like,   
   forever!"   
   	          "Erica! Wow, how are you doing? How's   
   Zane?" I asked, Zane being her son.   
   	          "Oh, he's doing great. He hasn't had to   
   have surgery in a while, but he does still have a   
   little bit of a   
   nervous stomach. I can't believe he just turned five!"   
   Zane was born with a heart condition, and has endured   
   quite a   
   few surgeries the first years of his life. I am happy   
   to hear the news, " I've been keepin' myself busy,   
   Mower and I moved   
   in together and we got a house on the Westside of St   
   Paul across the street from Ryan and Pepper, and I'm   
   going to   
      
   school to expand my horizons."   
    	           "Ryan and Pepper?" I querie.   
   	           " Oh, you remember that Mower's a bassist,   
   right?"   
                                   "Sort of. The last   
   time we talked you two had just gotten together; it   
   was a band called Check, right?"   
                                   "Yeah, Ryan was   
   Mower's guitarist from that group, then they changed   
   their name to Perfect Orange,   
      
   and made a couple of albums with that before they   
   split up. Pepper is Ryan's girlfriend and a personal   
   homie. She's   
      
   awesome,   
   and we're both singing divas in Ryan and Mower's   
   newest creation, Plasmatic Brain Spasm."   
                                    I laugh, "You're in a   
   band, Erica?"   
   	           "A *funk* band. I knew you'd appreciate   
   that shit, of course. Are you still chasing aliens   
   with your super   
   hot partner?" she asks coyly. I had showed her a   
   picture of him at a family reunion a few years back,   
   and she   
      
   immediately   
   developed ideas in her head.   
                                    "Yes, I'm still   
   working on the X-Files with Mulder." I answer vaguely.   
   	            " Did you guys do it yet?" she asks   
   bluntly.   
   	            "No!" I answer quickly, "It's not like   
   that, Erica. We're partners and colleagues, that's   
   *all*."   
   	            "Are you seeing anyone else?" she asks,   
   as if to prove her point.   
   	            "No, I don't have time for romance. I   
   chase UFOs for a living, remember?" I answer, "Why   
   does it matter   
   to you?"   
   	            Erica sighs, "Well for one, I care about   
   your happiness, Dana. You're my favorite cousin, and I   
   know if   
   I didn't have nooky as long with you've been without,   
   I'd be climbing the fucking walls! Especially with the   
   Fox. Is he   
   still ultra-sexy for your pleasure?" she laughs. Erica   
   has a big, warm,  hefty laugh that you can't help to   
   go along with   
   her.   
   	            "Okay, okay, he's a goodlooking man and   
   yes, he *still is* a goodlooking man, but he's too   
   fucked up   
   over his obsession with exposing the Truth to find any   
   time for anything like romance." I tell her, trying to   
   get her off   
   my back.   
   	            "Oh-ohhhh, I think you're hot for his   
   bod, Dana!" she teases, "You want him to do it to you   
   on your   
      
   office   
   desk; I bet you think about that shit all the time,   
   huh?"   
   	            Not that I'll to allude to it, but she   
   pretty much hit the nail on the head with that   
   statement. I refuse   
   to answer and she's egged on by my silence, "Oh it's   
   true!" she chuckles, "You so totally want to do it to   
   your partner, and   
   I don't blame you." she adds approvingly.   
   	           So here's where I break down and tell the   
   first live person my naked feelings about Fox Mulder.   
   It's not   
   like she knows Mulder, or would blab to anyone at the   
   Bureau, so I figured I was safe with my cousin. Plus,   
   I just really   
   need to get this off my chest, "Yes. I want to fuck   
   Mulder. You're right." I say as she gasps in delight,   
   "It's been forever   
   since I've had sex, and honestly, I have no taste for   
   any other man *but* him."   
   	         "And he's the seemingly unattainable, so   
   therefore you just rock yon vibrator every night and   
   think of   
      
   him,   
   don't you?" Erica interrupts, chuckling.   
   	           "Yes. It's more than just a physical   
   attraction to him though, and that's why I can't cross   
   that line. When   
   sex gets involved, people's minds become muddled. It's   
   the quickest way to ruin the only friendship I have   
   right now. I   
   truly love him Erica, and I'd die without him in my   
   life."   
   	           "Sounds like your whole deal with the Fox   
   is based on your abject fear of men and getting hurt."   
   	           "Did you take psychology, Erica?" I laugh.   
   	           "Last semester." she answers, chuckling,   
   "Well, listen Dana, I had an alterior motive for   
   calling you, and   
   I think it's one you'll like. How do you feel about   
   visit?"   
   	            "You want me to come to St. Paul?" I ask.   
   	            "Think about it. We have an extra room at   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)