TITLE: Relative Anonymity
AUTHORS: Kasey Miller and Aimee Morse
EMAIL: AllThingsX1013@yahoo.com
CLASSIFICATION: SRH
KEYWORDS: MSR
RATING: R-NC17 for language and sexual situations
SPOILERS: Hollywood A.D.
DISCLAIMER: Not ours.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was originally a challenge piece for Aimee, but she chickened out and we ended up writing it together. The challenge elements have escaped me now.
SUMMARY: Requisite post-ep fic for Hollywood A.D.

*****

"I'm in love with Associate Producer Walter Skinner," she said as she dumped the bowl of popcorn on a statue.

"Yeah, me too."

They laughed as they left the set, hand in hand. He pushed open the door for her out into the muggy California night and hailed a cab for them.

"Hotel Beverly Ernesto," Mulder said, sliding into the backseat beside Scully. The cabbie started the meter and drove away from the curb. Mulder put his arm around Scully's shoulder and pulled her against him. 

"So have you given our night on the town any thought? Or would you rather just go back to the hotel?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed.

"I think a night on the town would be wonderful. We can go anywhere, do anything we want in relative anonymity. When was the last time you stayed out all night and had fun?" 

He looked at her in surprise. "Why, Scully, don't you consider those all night cases fun?"

She laughed again. God, he could get used to the sound of her laughter. "How about another kind of fun? Seriously, Mulder, we may never get this chance again."

"You're absolutely right." He leaned forward to talk to the cabbie. "Excuse me, driver? We're not familiar with the area, but we'd like to find a nice place to eat that doesn't require reservations. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Whaddya in the mood for? Ethnic? American? I mean, we got everything from McDonald's to five star."

Scully leaned forward to join the conversation. "Somewhere out of the ordinary. Off the beaten path. And the cuisine doesn't matter."

The cabbie scratched his head as he wove in and out of traffic. "Off the beaten path, huh? Well, I know of a little place that isn't much to look at, but it serves the best food you'll ever eat."

"Take us there." Mulder smiled and leaned back to snuggle Scully some more.

The cab eventually brought them to the restaurant, which was situated in a less-than-desirable part of town with every kind of ethnic group represented walking up and down the street. Mulder got out and handed the cabbie his fare and went to help Scully.

"Enjoy!" the cabbie shouted as he drove away.

They stood in front of The Hey Mon Bistro and contemplated their cab driver's choice of restaurants. "You're packing, right Scully?"

"In my purse, Mulder. I've got your back."

"Good. Well, shall we?" He put his hand on her back and guided towards the door.

Once inside, they were surprised at the subtle décor with soft, muted lighting. They were seated right away in a back booth, and Mulder glanced at the menu and immediately ordered a Red Stripe for both of them.

Scully busied herself with the menu as Mulder took in the surroundings. "Isn't tthis great, Scully?" he said, throwing her a sly grin and picking up his own menu. Scully looked over the top of her menu at him and rolled her eyes. "Methinks the lady is not impressed," he said, still smiling. "We can leave if you want...I think I saw a Thai place a few doors down."

"I'll be fine Mulder...I just don't know what to get." She looked down at her menu again and sighed. How many different meats could they "jerk"?  

"I can pick for you," Mulder said, putting down his menu and grabbing her hand. He pulled it up to his mouth and kissed the top tenderly. "Give me a chance to impress you." 

"You do that everyday, Mulder." Scully replied. 

"And every night, too." he said, smiling mischievously. "Goody, here comes our waiter...and his hair."  

"Hey mon, you ready to order?" the waiter said, putting their drinks on the table and taking out his order pad. He looked at Mulder expectantly.

"Yeah, *mon*," Mulder said. Scully kicked him lightly under the table and gave him her best "don't" look. He smiled and continued. "I think we'll start with two bowls of the black bean chili. Then, I'll take the jerk chicken with beans and rice as the side. She'll have the curried goat with rice, easy on the heat, if you don't mind." 
	
"Mulder, I really don't think that's what..." she started to say. 

"Oh, just give it a try, Scully...you might be surprised." he interrupted, handing their menus to the waiter. 

"Or, I could be totally disgusted and spend the rest of the night puking into a sewer grate." 

"You trust me, don't you? I promise you'll like it. Goat, when made correctly, is a lot like lamb, and I know you like lamb. You won't be disappointed; in fact, I'll bet that you eat all of it."

She stuck out her hand. "That's a bet I'll take."

Forty-five minutes later, Scully was still moaning and sighing with delight over her entrée. "What did I tell you, Scully? Good, isn't it?" Mulder asked.

"God, yes, Mulder. I would say it's even better than lamb." She took a big swig of her beer, plunked the empty bottle on the table and leaned back in her chair.

"Now all you need is a cigarette, huh?" he teased.

Her eyes widened in surprise and an evil grin came across her face. "You know, that's exactly what I was thinking. Maybe we could find one of those cigar bars and drink martinis all night and smoke a big fat Cuban."

"You can't smoke Cubans in this country, Scully, but I know a Jewish boy from Massachusetts that wouldn't mind having your lips wrapped around his cigar."

Her look of shock soon gave way into uncontrollable laughter. "Mulder, I think that's the naughtiest sexual innuendo you've ever thrown at me. I don't have anything to say."

"Yes would be a good start."

"Hmmmmm, maybe later. Right now I want to explore...I think there's a bar down the street that we should visit, just to sample some more of the local flavor."

He pulled out his wallet to pay for the meal when Scully remembered the Bureau credit card. "No, Mulder, allow me," and she laid the card down with a flourish on the little tray with the check.

"Thank you, America, for this wonderful meal," he quipped as they rose to leave.

The streets were crawling with people, talking and laughing loudly. Every few minutes a jacked up car would amble down the road, infusing the heavy bass line and machine gun rap of the stereo into the already boisterous atmosphere.

"I feel like I'm at Mardi Gras," Scully muttered as she huddled under Mulder's protective arm.

"So if I give you a strand of cheap beads you'll show me your tits?"

She deliberately bumped into him, knocking his stride off course. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

He regained his footing and put his arm back around her. "Actually, yes, I thought I was. Hey, what's this?"

They stopped in front of building with a bright neon sign that read "The Silver Spur." Hoots and hollers could be heard coming from inside, as well as loud music.

A sign on the darkened window said "Karaoke TONIGHT with Slim and FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY - Bullriding!"

"Mulder, I want to go in," Scully said as she took his hand and looked up at him pleadingly.

He returned her look with his panic face. "Scully?"

"Please, Mulder? One night only...how can we pass this up?"

He sighed and bowed his head. "All right. But if things get spooky, we're leaving, OK?"

She led him into the bar and the smell of beer and too many people assaulted their nostrils.

Mulder took her hand and led her into the back of the bar. A huge crowd was grouped around a padded ring with a large mechanical bull in the middle. There was currently a cowboy wanna-be picking himself off the floor, all to a chorus of boos and raucous laughter. They stopped to watch for a minute as another rider strapped on a helmet and got on. This one fared no better; he was off in an instant.

"There's a booth, Mulder." Scully said, pointing to a dark section in the very back.

"Looks romantic, Scully. You trying to get me alone?" Mulder said, grabbing her around the waist and giving her a lingering kiss.

"Hmmmmm...maybe." she answered, leading him over to the booth and sliding in beside him. She put a hand on his upper thigh, rubbing her fingers lightly over the crease on his pants. He slid his arm behind her back and put his hand on her waist. They sat for awhile, not talking, just taking in all the action going on around them and enjoying being together. After a few minutes a waitress approached their table.

"What can I get for y'all?" she asked, giving Mulder the once, and then twice, over. Scully cleared her throat, distracting the waitress from the task of mentally undressing him. She looked at Scully, obviously perturbed by the interruption.

"We'll take a bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold with two shot glasses and two Coronas, please." Scully placed the bureau card on the table in front of the waitress. "And put it all on that."

"Sure thing, hon." the waitress said, giving Mulder another look before walking away.

The waitress was back quickly, setting down their drinks, along with a dish of limes and a salt shaker.

"Just holler if y'all need anything else. And don't forget we got karaoke tonight."

Mulder picked up the bottle of tequila and poured them both double shots. Scully downed hers in an instant, taking a giant swig of her beer to wash it down. Mulder watched her, shocked.

"Damn, that's smooth," she croaked, grimacing and shaking her head. She moved her glass back in front of Mulder. "Load me up with another one, G-man."

"Let me get one first, Scully." Mulder said, pouring salt onto the back of his hand. He drank his with considerably less bravado, shoving a wedge of lime into his mouth right after he swallowed. He sucked on the lime until the bitter taste of the alcohol gave way to the salty-tang of citrus. He spit the lime onto the table and coughed.

"Shit...it's been awhile." he said as he poured another significantly smaller shot for each of them.

Two hours, 8 beers and the full bottle of tequila later, Scully and Mulder were shit-faced. Mulder had decided that he wanted to try bullriding. Scully was able to talk him out of it, just barely, after convincing him that he could hurt his "package" if it was bumped up and down too hard on the bull. She had told him an injury like that would require at least two months of total sexual inactivity on his part. So what if it wasn't true? It kept him from making a total ass of himself.

"So can I karaoke, Scully?" Mulder asked, "or will the strain on my vocal cords mean I can't scream your name when I come for at least five weeks?" Scully giggled and punched him in the arm.

"No, schilly, you can karaoke, if you want to. Mulder," she got dramatically serious for a moment, "I've never heard you sing. I wanna hear you sing. Go sing a song for me." She went in search of a song list and threw it in front of him.

"Scully," he whined, "I can't sing. That's why you've never heard me. I don't know any of these songs." He was flipping through the list, not really paying attention to the words on the pages. He was too entranced at the sight of a very drunk Scully.

"Suuuuuuure you do. Here, sing this one." She pointed to a song by Travis Tritt.

Ten minutes later, Mulder was standing on the little stage in front of the entire bar singing "That's My Story (And I'm Sticking to It.)" The patrons were giving him some good-natured ribbing about his tuxedo, and more than one horny, drunk female was throwing slips of paper with their phone numbers at him.

The crowd burst into wild applause as he took a little bow and staggered off the stage back towards Scully. The gleam in her eye and the shit-eating grin on her face let him know that she approved of his singing.

"So, girlfriend, what are YOU gonna sing?" he said as he slid back into the booth.

"Um, I didn't know I was singing."

Mulder slapped the song list in front of her and waved for the waitress. "Oh yes, Scully, you are gonna sing. I'm not the only one who's going to make a fool of themselves tonight. Now pick a song."

An evil grin crossed her face as she began looking through the list. Mulder busied himself by ordering them more beer and a pack of Marlboro Lights.

Scully had found her song by the time the drinks and smokes came, and was already heading towards Slim with her selection. As she climbed on stage and took the microphone, the crowd exploded with catcalls.

Slim introduced her. "Now this here is Dana. Doesn't she look purty?" The audience erupted again in agreement.

"Dana, do you wanna make a dedication a'fore you start singin'?"

Scully looked nervously around the bar before speaking. "Well, yeah, I guess. Um, this is for my boyfriend, so if I mess up it's his fault."

Slim cackled as he eyed her. "Well folks, I think that about says it all. Here ya are, lil lady."

The unmistakable opening strains of "Son of a Preacher Man" blared over the speakers and the whole crowd went crazy. Scully was still a little subdued during the first verse, but by the time she hit the chorus she was in fulll swing and playing it up for the herd of young men clamouring for her attention at the front of the stage.

When the song was over, Scully had to push her way through the throng of people to get back to Mulder. A hunky young cowboy with tight Wranglers came up to her and pressed something into her hand. She looked down and saw a glow-in-the-dark condom with a phone number on it.

Laughing all the way back to their booth, Scully stopped short when she saw Mulder smoking a cigarette. "Mulder?" she squeaked.

"Hey babe, great song. Sit down," he patted the booth beside him.

She stood still, not believing her eyes. "Where did you get the cigarettes?"

"I ordered them from the waitress. Why?"

She finally saw the pack lying on the table and lunged for them. "Gimme the matches," she mumbled as she held a smoke between her lips.

He handed them over wordlessly, mesmerized by the image of Scully's ruby red lips taking a deep drag and exhaling. "My god, Scully, you're fucking beautiful," was all he could muster.

She winked at him and ran her fingers through her hair. She had shed the headband eons ago, it seemed, and the humid air had made it fall in waves around her head.

"So Mulder, what are we going to do next?"

Before he could think of an answer, "Boot Scootin' Boogie" began playing on the jukebox. Scully gave a whoop and dragged Mulder out to the dance floor, beer in one hand and her cigarette still dangling from her lips.

Mulder quickly got the hang of the line dance and was having a great time until disaster struck. The young cowboy who had given Scully the condom decided to make his move on her, which incensed Mulder. He came over to the guy and pushed him back, making him stumble a bit. The cowboy ran at Mulder, who ducked just in time.

Not one to be fooled twice, the cowboy once again came at Mulder, who grabbed him by the shirt collar and bitch slapped him twice. Hard.

The bouncer appeared and kicked them all out of the bar, insults and comments about each other's heritage flying rapidly between Mulder and the cowboy. Some friends came to collect the cowboy outside while Mulder and Scully found a bench.

"Mulder, that was stupid. I mean, you were in a BAR FIGHT. That's so cool!" 

Mulder chuckled. "Make up your mind, Scully. God, I'm so drunk. What are we going to do now? It's not even one o'clock yet."

Scully scanned up and down the block for a new form of entertainment. "Well, there's a strip club which I am not going to, and there's a Chinese market..."

"There!" Mulder was pointing across the street.

"A tattoo parlor? Mulder, you're not serious."

He smirked at her. "Serious as a heart attack. Besides, I don't wanna feel left out." He moved his hand to her back where her tattoo was.

"No, Mulder, that was a long time ago and it was done for the wrong reason."

"I want one, I don't care. Come on."

They staggered across the street to the Imperial Gothic Body Art Center and walked in. A large, heavily tattooed man dressed in leather greeted them and handed over a couple of flash books to look through.

"I just don't know what to get, Scully."

"Oh, I know! Why don't you get an alien?"

He thought for a moment before answering. "An alien - that would be perfect. Yeah, I want an alien."

They were able to find a near perfect rendition of an alien that Mulder was going to get put on his shoulder blade. That is, until the large, heavily tattooed man dressed in leather got a whiff of Mulder's breath.

"No way, man. You're drunk, and by law I can't tattoo anyone under the influence."

Mulder glared at the man, then whipped out his FBI badge. "I am the law, Bubba, and you can go ahead and give me that tattoo, if you don't mind."

The man peered over the counter at Mulder's badge, then looked at him and Scully and laughed. "No can do, brother. Come back tomorrow when you've sobered up. Now get out of my shop."

Scully had gotten increasingly frightened by the large, heavily tattooed man dressed in leather and tugged on Mulder's arm. "I think we should go. If you still want a tattoo tomorrow we'll come back. Come on, Mulder."

Mulder shot the man one last glare and followed Scully out the door.

"What now?" Mulder asked, sitting heavily on a bench. His tux was crumpled and he looked, to put it kindly, deflated. "We're drunk off our asses, I look like shit, and we still have money to spend," he continued, busily removing his bow tie and unbuttoning the top three buttons on his shirt.

"Why don't we go over to that little store and get some munchies and beer and then take a cab out to the beach?" Scully suggested, joining him on the bench.

"That sounds like a plan," Mulder smiled, then grimaced as he put his hand up to his mouth.

Scully reached over and touched his lip. The cowboy at the bar had landed one decent punch and now Mulder's bottom lip was split. "That asshole at the bar got you good, huh?" she asked.

He huffed and scowled. "You should have shot him, Scully. It would have been well within our rights," he said, pouting as best as he could. "All I wanted to do was protect your honor."

"I doubt a come-on is sufficient cause for using lethal force, Mulder. Besides, you fought another man over me. That's as chivalrous as it gets, not to mention just a bit primal. It kind of turned me on," she smiled slyly at him.

"Scully, if the world wasn't spinning so much right now, I'd kiss you."

"Then let me meet you halfway," she said, leaning towards him.

Their lips met and his injury was forgotten as they savored the taste of each other's mouths, all spicy with Jamaican jerk and tequila and cigarettes.

"Ummmmmmm," Mulder hummed as they parted. "I wanna do some more of that."

"Yeah, that sounds good. But first, let's go to the store." She was already up and waiting for him to join her.

He hauled himself to his feet and offered his arm to her. "Shall we, milady?"

"My knight in shining armor," she said sarcastically.

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Hey Scully, have you ever met my sidekick?"

"Your what?"

"My sidekick. Here, let me introduce you." He brought his leg nearest to her up and gave her a swift kick in the ass.

She jumped forward and squealed. "You suck, Mulder."

"Sure, fine, whatever."

They walked into the small corner convenience store and split up, Mulder heading towards the beer cooler and Scully perusing the snack food aisle. The clerk made no acknowledgement of them, as if two drunk FBI agents in formal evening wear came into his store all the time.

They met at the counter with their purchases. The clerk did give them both the once over as he rang up the twelve pack of Heineken, but didn't say a word or ask for any ID. Scully handed over the Bureau card, which the clerk looked at before processing the transaction.

"This yours?" he asked.

"The lady gave it to you, didn't she? You saw her take it out of her purse, didn't you? Then it must be hers." Mulder retorted.

The clerk shrugged. "Doesn't make it hers. I need some ID."

Scully was more than happy to whip out her badge, giving the clerk a smug smile as he glanced at her picture. "Yeah, you're OK," he said.

"No shit, sherlock," Mulder mumbled.

The clerk ran the card through and handed Scully the receipt to sign. They grabbed the beer and the bags of food and headed out to catch a cab.

Several cabs completely ignored Mulder's outstretched arm. "God dammit, what do I have to do to hail a cab? They're worse than D.C."

"Maybe you're not pretty enough, Mulder, let me try." Scully set down her bags and stepped out on the curb. She raised her hand and almost immediately, two cabs screeched to a stop beside them.

Mulder rolled his eyes as they got into one of the cabs. "There's a sexist remark here somewhere but I can't figure out what it is."

"Where to, sweetheart?" The cabbie craned around in his seat to look at Scully.

She gave him a flirtatious smile and ran a hand through her hair. "Oh, we were looking for the nearest public beach. How far away is it?"

"About fifteen minutes. That ok with you, doll?"

"Absolutely. And thank you," she leaned forward and squinted to see his license, "Sam. We appreciate your help."

Sam puffed out his chest with obvious pride. "Just doing my job, ma'am. So, you folks been out partying tonight?"

"Nothing major. We were at a film premiere and then decided to skip the party afterwards and do some exploring on our own."

"Really? Have I heard of the movie?"

"It's called 'The Lazarus Bowl' and it's a piece of shit," Mulder interjected.

Sam looked into his rearview mirror at his reaction. "Whassamatta, pal? You lose some big bucks in production?"

Mulder snorted. "Not exactly. It's a long story, Sam, and one I'd rather not go into. Just promise us that you won't go see the film, OK?"

"Whatever you say, pal." Sam maneuvered the cab through a hairy patch of traffic that left Mulder and Scully clutching each other's hand. "So, you folks from around here?" He seemed very intent on having a conversation with them.

"Actually, we're from D.C., taking some well-deserved vacation time." Scully answered.

Sam whistled in admiration. "D.C., huh? You guys work for Uncle Sam or somethin'?"

"Somethin' like that. We would tell you, but then we'd have to kill you." Mulder said.

His remark made Sam nod knowingly and kept him quiet for the rest of the trip. When they got to the beach, Scully went to pay for the fare but he waved them off. 

"Don't worry about it. My treat. And if anyone asks, you were never in my cab." He winked at her and drove off.

Mulder and Scully looked at one another, completely flabbergasted. "What was that all about?" Mulder asked.

"I don't know, but I'm not going to complain. Here, hold these," she handed the bags to him and bent over to take her hose and heels off.

"Scully! What are you doing?"

"I want to walk on the sand in my bare feet, is that OK?"

Mulder gulped as he caught an eyeful of Scully's thigh. "Fine by me."

They set off walking towards the sound of the ocean, stopping halfway so Mulder could take his shoes and socks off as well. "Hard to walk on sand in dress shoes," he said.

Finally, they found a suitable spot to crash and Mulder laid his jacket down for them to sit on. He handed Scully a beer and took one for himself.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully?"

"Why did you get Heineken?"

"I thought you liked it."

"I do, but I don't have a bottle opener."

"Oh shit! Why do I suck?"

Scully reached for her purse. "Never fear, I have my handy-dandy special agent bottle opener in here somewhere."

She tossed out her badge, gun, pager, handcuffs "Oooo, Scully, you know what I like," a compact, and finally, she found what she was looking for.

"Ta da!" She produced her Apollo 11 keychain that Mulder had given her as a birthday present and popped off their bottle caps.

"Hey Scully, you're a regular Macgyver."

They sat in comfortable silence, listening to the surf and drinking their beer and snacking on chips and M&Ms. After several beers apiece, Mulder had to break the silence.

"Scully?"

"Yeah, Mulder?"

"How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

"Gosh, let me think...I was eighteen. How about you?"

"Sixteen. Tell me about it."

"Well, it was the summer before I went to Berkeley, and one of my friends was having a party. There was this guy named Marcus that I was dating at the time and he had occasionally pushed me to have sex, but I was so afraid of getting pregnant that we never did. But the night of that party, I had made up my mind that if Marcus mentioned it again, then I would go all the way."

Mulder settled down next to her and propped his head on his hand. "Go on, I'm all ears."

She nestled beside him and he immediately wrapped his arm around her. "Mulder, there's not much to tell. It was a typical teenage party. Lots of alcohol and pot and sex. I was drunk and so was he, and it was completely unmemorable."

"Come on, Scully, you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

The idea of hearing about Mulder's first time was worth the embarassment of sharing hers. "Oh, all right. We were in a spare bedroom and we started off making out and touching each other. Then he told me he had brought a condom and so we took all our clothes off and got under the covers. I got so nervous that whatever arousal I had been feeling was gone, and with alcohol being a dehydrator, I was way too dry and tight for him to put it in."

"Ouch," Mulder supplied.

"Ouch was right. But we went ahead anyway, probably because we felt like we were past the point of no return, and needless to say, it was over in a matter of minutes and I got absolutely no enjoyment out of it."

Mulder squeezed her and dropped a kiss on her neck. "I'm sorry, babe. The first time is never what it's cracked up to be, is it?"

"No, it's not. So, what about you?"

"Well, like I said, I was sixteen and it was the summer my parents forced me to go to this camp for gifted and talents students instead of letting me go to basketball camp like I wanted."

Scully turned over to watch his face as he told his story.

"There was this girl from Jessop Academy, Sarah, who was in my activity group and we got to be pretty decent friends. One night after our campfire I walked her back to her cabin and she laid a big one on me. We would end up making out every night from then on, and on the last night of camp we stayed out all night in our sleeping bags and did the deed."

"Details, Mulder, details."

"Oh, fine. Well, we weren't drunk or high, but we were scared shitless that a counselor or someone would find us, so we left most of our clothes on. She told me she was a virgin but there were no barriers to break, if you know what I mean. Things were smooth sailing, pretty much, and I actually think I lasted for at least five minutes."

"So did you ever see her again?"

"Nope. Never wanted to, really. I found out later that not only had she not been a virgin, but she had slept with one of the counselors the year before."

"Wow. What a slut."

"Yeah, she was. Oh well. So, Scully, you've had several sexual partners...how do I compare?"

She snuggled tight against him and brushed her lips over his mouth. "No comparison, my dear."

"Does that mean that I don't live up to their standards or that I'm better..."

She shut him up with a deep kiss, tangling her tongue with his in a lover's duel. He wrapped one arm around her waist and one hand went straight to her hair to touch the silky tresses.

She slid a hand up his shirt and caressed the soft skin and firm muscles of his back while her toes ran up and down his leg. She tilted her head back to allow him better access when he dipped lower to kiss her neck and shoulders.

"Mmmm, Scully, you taste so good," he mumbled in between nips.

All she could do was sigh and hum as he alternated between gentle kisses and rougher nibbles on her skin. She placed one hand on his erection and stroked him through his pants.

"Yesssssssssss," he hissed in her ear. He moved a hand lower to cup her mound, and she immediately arched into his touch.

"We can't, Mulder...it's a little too public...oh, God, right there."

He had wiggled his hand under her dress and discovered that she hadn't worn underwear this evening. It made his quest for her clit that much easier. He found it and started rubbing with his thumb while he slid two fingers inside her.

"Christ, Scully, you're wet. Oh yeah, just like that."

"Fuuuuuuuck, Mulder, that feels so good."

She continued touching his cock and he fingered her in time with her strokes. His mouth found a hard nipple through the thin material of her dress, and she bucked against his hand even harder.

He groaned. "Shit, Scully, I'm gonna come..."

"So am I...right there, right there..."

"Oh god, oh god, fuuuck, Scu...Scullaaay!"

"That's good, Mulder, make me come...just like that...yes, yeeeeesssss...Oh god Mulder!"

He jerked against in her grip as her muscles clenched around his fingers and their lips met in a fumbling, sloppy kiss. Once their climax was over, they settled along side one another, entwining their arms and legs in a tight embrace.

"Just like baby cats, Scully," he murmured.

"Mulder, they're called kittens."

"Baby cats, kittens. Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe."

"Mulder, shut up and keep me warm."

"Scully, we're in Los Angeles. It's never cold here."

"Even the desert gets cold at night. Plus, we're by the water. There's always a breeze coming off the ocean."

"Sure, fine..."

"Don't say it," she interrupted.

They laid there in silence for a while, just enjoying the scenery and the company. The sound of the ocean nearly lulled Scully to sleep, until Mulder's voice startled her back into consciousness.

"Hey Scully, pretend for a minute that we don't have to go back to D.C. tomorrow, that we have no obligations to anybody but ourselves. What would you do?"

She pondered the question for a moment, then looked at him. "I would make you buy me a big boat, a yacht, and then I would want to set sail for the Mediterranean. We would have a permanent dock in the Italian or French Riviera, and own a beautiful villa up in the hills overlooking the sea. All we would do is cruise up and down, visiting the little ports and enjoying the sights and each other. We could invite our family and friends out for vacations and meet other rich American socialites."

"Whew, Scully, you've given this a little bit of thought, haven't you?" He chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"Well, maybe just a little bit. But it's something I've always dreamed of doing. What about you?"

"Hmmmm, I was thinking along the lines of buying some land up in the Pacific Northwest and building a nice cabin or something. I'd like to settle down in a quaint little village, where I could be the history or English teacher at the local high school, and I could coach basketball, and my wife could be the town doctor, and we could have a couple of kids and just be normal for a change."

His revelation left her silent. "So you wouldn't want to be with me, then."

"Scully, I never said that. Of course I want to be with you. What makes you think I wouldn't want that?"

"You mentioned children. I know you'd like some of your own, and I'm sorry I can't give that to you. You'd be better off finding someone who can." She tried to twist away from his embrace and he clung to her more tightly.

"Scully...Dana, don't start with this. First of all, it's just some wishful thinking, ok? Not like it's going to happen in the near future. Second of all, even if it did, we can adopt or try the in vitro again. But it doesn't matter to me if I never have a child of my loins. All that matters is that it would be ours, to raise and mold and love and nuture into a fine human being. As much as I would love to have a child with you, it's not what my love for you is or ever has been about. It's only been about you, and about what I am when I'm with you and what we are together."

"And what are we together?" she asked shakily.

"Unstoppable. An undeniable force. Haven't you figured that out yet, Scully? Our love is so good and so right that it cancels out everything that's wrong or bad with the world."

"Now you're being romantically ridiculous," she said, laughing through her tears.

"But isn't that how you feel? I mean, I feel like fucking Superman when I'm with you."

Now she burst into a full chortle. "Oh Mulder, I'd rather you feel like fucking me when you're with me."

He threw a little bit of sand in her general direction. "You know what I mean."

"Do I, Mulder?" She was already getting up and backing away from him.

"You had better run, g-woman, because I'm gonna kick your ass when I catch you." He took off after her down the beach and brought her down in a gentle tackle.

"You're such a brute, big bad FBI man. Poor little ol' me." She sniffed twice for effect.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Hey, you wanna go skinny dipping? Last one in is a rotten egg."

All Scully had to do was shimmy out of her dress and shed her bra, and she was headed for the water while Mulder was still struggling with the buttons on his shirt.

"Hey, no fair! I have buttons!"

"Fooo-ooox is a rotten egg! Fooo-ooox is a rotten 
egg!"

"All right, now you are really gonna get it, Dana Katherine." He quickly took off the rest of his clothes and ran into the surf, diving into a wave and taking off in a strong crawl to catch up with her.

"Oh no, it's the FiJi mermaid!" she taunted him.

He dove underwater and grabbed her leg, pulling her under for a moment. He instantly resurfaced with her in a tight hold. "Now I've gotcha."

"That was a mean thing to do, Mulder." She was still spitting salt water out of her mouth.

"Yeah, but you called me Fox."

"Why can't I call you Fox? Everyone else calls you Fox."

"No they don't."

"Well, what if I forget and call it out in the heat of passion?"

"I suppose I could forgive you that one small transgression."

"Gee, you're so generous."

"I don't call you Dana, do I?"

"No, but I just figured you had forgotten my first 
name."

"Do you want me to call you Dana?"

"That's not necessary. If you want to, you can. I probably wouldn't know who you were talking to, though."

They were treading water about 50 yards off shore, basking in the glow of the moon and revelling in the sensation of the ocean on their bare skin.

"This has been nice, Mulder?"

"What has been nice?"

"Tonight. Dinner, the bar, the beach, being with you. It's been real nice."

"Nice? Is that all?"

"OK, it's been wonderful. I haven't felt this carefree in a long time."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I mean, we're grown-ups, with responsibilities and important jobs and bills to pay and all that junk. Tonight I wasn't worried about any of that. I wanted to be irresponsible and a little crazy."

"Well, I'd say we definitely accomplished that. But there's no reason we can't do stuff like this back home."

"You know I'm not exactly a spontaneous person, and the atmosphere at home isn't exactly conducive to this sort of behavior."

"Then I'll have to try harder to bring more spontaneity and irresponsibility into our relationship."

"I'll try harder too. What time is it?"

Mulder pulled his wrist out of the water and looked at his watch. "Eight."

"Eight? That's impossible! It's barely getting light!"

"Oh, you're right. It's eight in D.C. so it's five here."

"Let's body surf back in and get dressed. It's almost time for breakfast."

"All you think about it food, isn't it?"

"Food and sex. I'm as bad as a man."

"I'm not complaining."

They rode on the waves back to the shore and shook off the water from their bodies. Mulder used his jacket and dress shirt to dry them off, and they stuffed their damp bodies into their suddenly uncomfortable evening wear.

"Next time we do this, remind me to bring a change of clothes," he said as he balled his jacket, dress shirt, and socks together. "I don't even want to put my shoes on."

"Wait until we hit the sidewalk and you can brush the sand off first."

They threw away their garbage and walked hand in hand back to the sidewalk that led them to the street. The lack of cabs at this time of morning forced them to sit on a bench for a while before one came along.

By the miracle of The Yellow Cab, they ended up getting Sam as their driver again.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't my two favorite government secret agents. How was the beach?"

"Wet. But fun," Mulder answered.

Sam looked at them in the rearview mirror. "You guys swam? You're lucky you didn't get picked up by the beach patrol. They usually try to crack down on late night skinny dippers."

Scully blushed as Mulder squeezed her hand. "I guess we're just lucky, Sam."

"I guess you are. So where to, folks?"

"Scully?" Mulder turned to her. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Do you guys have a Denny's out here?"

"Oh sure, sweetheart, we've got 'em. That what you want?"

"Yes. I'm needing some pancakes."

"Your wish is my command, doll." Sam pulled a U-turn and headed off in the opposite direction.

Sam kept them entertained on the ride to Denny's by telling them stories about the interesting people he had driven around. 

"Have you driven a cab all your life, Sam?" Mulder asked.

"No, I used to drive a limo for Warner Brothers back in the fifties and sixties. I met all the movie stars, Marilyn Monroe, Rock Hudson, Joan Crawford, you name them, I probably drove them."

"That's so fascinating, Sam. I'd rather meet movie stars than politicians." Scully said.

"Eh, movies stars...politicians...there's not much difference between 'em, except I've found that movie stars are much better lookin'."

Sam's comment made them all laugh, and soon he pulled into a Denny's near their hotel. "So, you folks gonna need a ride back to wherever you're stayin'?"

Mulder helped Scully out and they both leaned in to talk to Sam. "Actually, no we won't. We're just staying in the Ernesto down the street, so we'll probably just walk. But thanks anyway. We appreciate your hospitality."

"Well, you're certainly some of the most polite people I've had in my taxi. I hope you've enjoyed your time out here. No, don't worry about it," he waved off Mulder's money for the fare.

"You're the man, Sam, take it easy." They bid him goodbye as he drove off.

"What a nice guy, Mulder. He let us off the hook both times, which would have cost us about fifty bucks altogether. Who says there aren't unselfish people in Hollywood?"

"I think they were referring to people in the business, Scully." They picked a booth in the smoking section and sprawled out over each side of the table.

"Smokes, Mulder." Scully laid her hand out on the table expectantly.

"Did you used to smoke?"

"In medical school. Who didn't?"

"I smoked when I was in Violent Crimes. Some people did drugs, some people drank. I smoked. I still get the craving every once in a while."

"I've always liked to smoke when I drink. It's just something that I've associated with each other since I started college. My mom smoked, so I'm sure it's in my genes."

"My dad smoked and drank, so I've got double trouble. I did a lot of drinking in college, but not a lot of my friends smoked. Well, not a lot of them smoked tobacco, I should say."

"You smoked, didn't you?"

"Yeah, did you?"

"Of course. But it made me paranoid and edgy, so I didn't enjoy doing it often."

"It just mellowed me out, heightened all my sensations to a certain point."

"I thought it basically numbed you."

"Sometimes, but there's nothing better than having sex when you're high. It's like everything you do or touch is like the first time, only better because at least you know what you're doing."

"Hmmmmm...maybe we'll have to try it someday."

"Seriously?"

"Sure, why not? That would be spontaneous and irresponsible, wouldn't it?"

"Absolutely, my dear."

The waitress appeared and brought them some coffe and took their order. They spent their time waiting for their food by smoking and silently observing the people in the restaurant. There were several tables full of loud, boisterous young folks who looked like they just got back from a club, and a few tables with older men drinking their morning coffee.

Soon the waitress was back with their food and they flirted while they ate, Mulder stealing forkfuls of egg from her plate and she swiped a piece of bacon.

"Mmmmmm, that was exactly what I wanted," Scully said as she leaned back in her seat and pushed her empty plate away.

"Yeah, that was tasty. Smoke?" Mulder offered her the pack.

"Why not?" She lit up and took a deep drag.

Mulder simply stared her. "I don't think I'll ever get over the sight of you smoking a cigarette, Scully. It gives you this sex kitten look that drives me crazy."

She took that opportunity to exhale, making a perfect smoke ring.

"Rrrrrahhhhhrrrrr," he growled.

The waitress cleared the table and they both declined another coffee refill. "I'm ready for bed, Mulder. Let's get on back."

"Good idea. You got the check?"

"Yep." She went up to the counter and presented the cashier with the check and the Bureau card.

"Everything ok?" the cashier asked as she rang up their meals.

"Just great," Scully answered.

The credit card machine beeped twice and the cashier looked at it oddly. "That's weird. It says that this card has reached the limit."

"Try again," Mulder offered.

The cashier tried again, twice, to no avail.

Mulder was mortified while Scully could barely contain her laughter. "Now why doesn't that surprise me? We couldn't have put more than $150 on this thing tonight."

"Here, just use mine," Mulder held out his own card. "I'll turn it in on our next expense report."

The cashier just did as he was told and didn't feel like asking what was going on. Finally the transaction was completed and they were on their way back to the hotel.

"Wanna go back to the hotel room and be irresponsible and crazy with me?" Mulder asked as they strolled along in the warm morning sun.

"Only if that includes taking a shower. I've got sand in places I'd rather not mention."

"I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

"It's a deal."

They reached the hotel and the doorman held the door for them. A few feet in front of them was Assistant Director Skinner and his "friend" from the movie premiere.

"Scully, is that...?"

"Yes, I believe it is."

"He's really gone Hollywood now, hasn't he?"

"Sweetie, he's gone and done Hollywood, by the looks of it."

"Naughty woman."

"You love me anyway."

"You're right, I do love you anyway."

"I'm glad. The feeling's mutual."

"Can't you say it?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

"I'd rather show you."

"Now that's what I'm talking about. Lead on, g-woman."

End