From: djmckent@neo.rr.com   
      
   Title:  Fair Enough   
      
   Author:  mimic117   
      
   Email:  mimic117@yahoo.com   
      
   Rating:  PG-13   
      
   Setting:  Season 6-ish, sequel to Fair Game   
      
   Summary:  What else are friends for?   
      
   Archive:  Sure.  Have at it.  I'll do Gossamer and Ephemeral   
   myself, thanks.   
      
   Disclaimer:  M&S belong to CC, but Darlene, Kelly and Marie   
   are all mine.  The rating belongs to the MPAA, silly people that   
   they are.   
      
   Thanks:  To my ever-patient Twinsy for the loving whacks   
   upside the head.   
      
   This one is for bellefleur in celebration of her birthday, which   
   is my birthday, too.  There's no one I'd rather share it with.   
      
   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
      
   Fair Enough   
   by mimic117   
      
      
   Dana Scully's apartment   
   10:47 AM   
      
   "Come on in, Marie.  Where are the Terrible Twosome?"  Dana   
   gestures for me to enter, gracing me with the big, toothy grin   
   she reserves for special occasions and special people.   
      
   "Still in the car, primping.  Lord forbid there should be one   
   strand of hair out of place."   
      
   Dana chuckles softly, the way she does when she's highly   
   amused.  "How bad was the hangover this morning?"   
      
   I smirk as I follow her into the living room.  "We would have   
   been here sooner if those two could've stopped wallowing in   
   self pity.  Personally, I drank a lot of water and took some   
   aspirin before bed and I feel fine.  Best advice you ever gave   
   me, Dana."   
      
   She smiles again and I feel like the worst kind of friend.  I   
   wonder if it shows on my face.  If Dana only knew the   
   discussion going on while we were driving to her apartment,   
   she'd be calling Darlene and Kelly something worse than   
   "terrible."  But I can't bring myself to tell her about the   
   whispered conniving up in the front seat.  I tried to ignore them   
   as much as I could, yet I understood the gist -- Darlene plans to   
   seduce Mulder away from Dana.  Why she thinks it'll work any   
   better now than it ever did in college, I don't know, but   
   every time Dana got a new boyfriend, he became fair game as   
   far as Darlene was concerned.  She'd enlist Kelly's help to keep   
   Dana distracted while Darlene cozied up to the current flame.   
   The fact that she always made a fool of herself doesn't   
   seem to have taught her anything.  I can't believe she's   
   planning to try her old tricks again.   
      
   Maybe it's a good thing we only see each other at class   
   reunions these days.   
      
   I'm saved from blurting out what I know by a voice from the   
   kitchen.   
      
   "I got the faucet working, Scully, but I still think you should   
   have the super look at it.  I'm a Federal Agent, not a plumber."   
      
   It's Dana's partner.  Not that we've been formally introduced,   
   but I'd recognize that voice anywhere, even after only hearing   
   it last night.  I'm not sure I'd recognize the face as easily,   
   though--he's no longer wearing the smoldering look that first   
   attracted my attention in the bar.  He's not wearing a shirt,   
   either, and it's his chest that's getting most of my scrutiny   
   this time, although his jeans are pretty noteworthy, too.  They   
   ride low on his hips, the ragged waistband sagging slightly below   
   his navel.  Long, bare feet stick out from under the shredded hems.   
   The snug-fitting thighs are faded nearly transparent, frayed   
   slashes in the threadbare denim allowing his skin to peek through.   
   The fly buttons strain against the frizzy buttonholes, testifying   
   to the impressive package that had Darlene drooling last night.   
      
   Dana always did have good taste in men.   
      
   "Mulder, where's your shirt?"   
      
   He holds out a sodden wad of gray in one hand.  "It, umm, got   
   wet."   
      
   "You didn't turn off the valve in the closet like I told you to,   
   did you?"   
      
   "Of course I did!"  Dana raises her eyebrow at him.  Mulder   
   scuffs his shoe on the carpet and suddenly he looks like a   
   ten-year-old who's been caught putting curlers on the cat.   
   "Eventually."   
      
   "It serves you right."  Dana's voice is stern, but there's a   
   twinkle in her eyes that belies her tone.  The air is electrified   
   for a second as he gazes back.  Neither of them says anything and   
   I have no idea what's going on, but I feel like I should turn   
   away to give them privacy.   
      
   Mulder is the first to break the connection as he extends his   
   hand to me.  "We didn't get to meet properly at the bar.  I'm   
   Mulder."   
      
   His hand is cool and firm.   
      
   "Marie.  I've heard a lot about you."   
      
   He glances at Dana with a rueful expression.  "I'll bet.  Sorry   
   about last night.  That was entirely Scully's idea."   
      
   Dana smacks his arm.  "I didn't hear you putting up much of a   
   fight about it."   
      
   "You know I always bow to your superior strategizing skills,   
   partner." He salutes.  "Where the Captain leads, I follow."   
      
   She rolls her eyes, then waves her hand at him and says, "If   
   we're going out to lunch, you'd better add to your ensemble.   
   You're missing something."   
      
   Mulder bounds over to the sofa and wiggles his feet into a scruffy   
   pair of sneakers sitting on the floor.  Then throws his arms out   
   to the side and exclaims, "Hey!  I'm wearing shoes!"  The three of   
   us watch as his wet t-shirt goes sailing out of his hand.  It   
   squishes against the far wall.  The glower Dana shoots him would   
   stop a charging rhino in its tracks, but Mulder just says, "I'll   
   get that," and saunters across the room to pick it up.   
      
   When he bends down, a tattered rip in the seat of his jeans   
   provides proof of Kelly's speculation last night in the bar--   
   Mulder isn't wearing underwear.  The rip is too large and   
   perfectly positioned to leave any doubt.  The squeak that   
   emerges from my mouth is unavoidable.   
      
   Hands on hips, Dana glares at Mulder's exposed backside.  "If   
   you're quite through flashing us--"  She's interrupted by a   
   loud knock on the door.   
      
   Mulder jumps and claps a hand to his ass.  Wide-eyed, he   
   glances from me to Dana to the door, where the knocking   
   resumes amid high-pitched giggles from the other side.  He   
   points toward the hallway and says, "I'll just go and..." then   
   lopes in that direction, long fingers still splayed over the rip   
   in his pants.   
      
   Dana yells "Chicken!" and turns toward the apartment door.   
   She looks at me and grins.  "I told him last night that Darlene   
   has the hots for him."   
      
   No wonder the poor man looked panic-stricken!  Dana was   
   probably teasing him about it all morning.  I'm glad that she's   
   on to Darlene's antics.   
      
   When Dana opens the door, I can't believe what I see.  That's   
   not the same outfit Darlene was wearing when we got into the   
   car!  She had on a soft, buttoned sweater.  Now the tops of her   
   more-than-ample breasts, framed by the open sweater, spill out   
   of a tight, low-cut, spaghetti-strap tank top.  They jiggle like   
   pale bags of Jell-O.  Her pants are so tight they look as though   
   they are painted on.  She's wearing black stiletto heels instead   
   of the sensible flats I saw earlier.  Her makeup is much too   
   heavy for the middle of the day and completely unlike what she   
   had on before.   
      
   That witch!  I have half a mind to march her right out to the car   
   and drive her back to the hotel.   
      
   Darlene and Kelly prance through the doorway and hug Dana as   
   though they haven't seen her in years.  I recognize that tactic.   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)