Alcoholic Confessions by Alanna Guinevere Rating: PG Category: SHA Disclaimer: Such a sad, beautiful boy. And I like Scully, too. They both belong to Chris. Author's Notes: Anyway. I'm really quite proud of myself with this one. I'm finally learning how to use my Microsoft Word, and this was the first fanfic I typed with it. And, might I add, I think it rocks ass. Yes, I realize Mulder was completly drunk off his butt in "Fight the Future." But, since it's my story, I'm going to pretend that didn't happen, and he met that weird doctor somehow else. :) This is a bit of a companion piece to "Between God&Me." However, they can both stand alone, and you don't have to read one to understand the other, but I hope you read both of them. And "Cleansing." And "I Love You Daddy." And "Canvases." And yes, that was a shameless plug. For David, again. I have a grand plan, and you'er part of it. Just wait. :) "Buy you a drink?" Dana Scully slipped into the booth across from her partner, tossing her beige overcoat in before her. "Nah." Mulder smiled at her, somewhat- ironically? bitterly? regretfully, maybe? Scully couldn't quite place it. She shrugged. "Do what you want, I'm having a vodka tonic." Mulder arched his eyebrows at her. "What would Daddy say?" "That I should have had a beer." "Talk about Irish." "Hell, yeah." Scully grinned. This was nice. They'd been doing this more and more lately, throwing cracks on each other, flirting a little, and she liked it. It made her feel like they really were friends, not just closer-than-normal partners. Which was part of the reason she had asked him to meet her for after work drinks. They'd just closed a case that had to be straight from hell, not to mention completely cursed. It would be nice to relax. Like friends. She was also hoping to pick his brain a little. Lately, when they did the not-just-close-partners thing, she had begun to realize that she really didn't know him that well, and it bothered her. She'd known the man for five years, and really didn't know him. Scully considered that for a while, then decided it really wasn't the case. She knew him, probably better than any one, but she didn't know anything about him. Like his favorite color, or what he ate, except for sunflower seeds, which she had decided didn't count, where he went to school. Etc., etc., etc. Lather, rinse, repeat as desired. Just tidbits that didn't matter, but she wanted to know any way. And this was the perfect opportunity. "You folks set?" The waitress conveniently jarred her from her thoughts. "Um, I think so. A vodka tonic, and...an iced tea?" She glanced to Mulder for confirmation. He studied her, then, without taking his eyes off her, said "And an iced tea." When the waitress left, he tilted his head at her. "Penny for your thoughts." Scully grinned. "Is it that obvious?" Mulder laughed quietly, which she had been trying to get him to do more often. "Only to me." "Oh, well, I'll have to work on that. And my thoughts are worth at least a quarter." Mulder grinned. "Fifteen cents." "Only if you want the abridged version." "Such a politician. Fine, a quarter. But this better be good." Scully frowned and glanced towards the bar. "Where's my vodka?" "Hey!" Mulder protested. "You're not getting out of spilling your thoughts that easily, sweetheart." Scully stuck her tongue out at him. How very Ice Queen-ish. "No fair. What if I was thinking about my vodka?" "You weren't." "You're right, I wasn't." "So? C'mon Scully, don't make me beat this out of you." Mulder leered at her, managing to somehow look quite charming. "Not here anyway." Scully leaned back in her chair, pretending to pout. Game, set, and match to Agent Mulder. Mulder raised his eyebrows at her again. "Scully..." She straightened up. "I guess I was just wondering." "About?""You're not going to let this go, are you?" "You looked pretty serious. About?" She shrugged. "You." The eyebrow thing again. "You make it a point to wonder about me?" She smiled. "At least twice a day." He grinned, but said "No, seriously, Scully." "Just lately, I've been thinking-" The waitress came back and set down their drinks. Scully smiled at her quickly, then turned serious again when she left. "I've been thinking, I don't know that much about you. I mean, just quirky little stuff, favorite color and such, and it just seems weird." "Spooky, even?" Scully tossed a napkin at him. "I'm not done. I guess I think I should know this stuff by now. I've been working with for you five years, and I'd like to think we're friends." "We are." "So, why don't I know this stuff?" He shrugged. "There's not that much to know. What you see is what you get." Another napkin. "Is not." "Is too." "Not." "Too." "Watch it, Mulder, I'm the youngest of four, I can keep this up for hours." "I bet you can." "Wanna find out?" Mulder grimaced. "Not particularly. What exactly to you want to know?" "Umm...." she focused on his iced tea. "Why don't you drink?" "What?" "I've never seen you take a drink of anything stronger than iced tea." "You also don't know what my favorite color is." "Mulder!" "God Scully." He leaned back, putting a hand over his eyes. "Ask hard questions why don't you." She looked at him, concerned. "It's that bad?" He shrugged, pulling himself together. "I guess not." "You don't have to tell me." "You should probably know." He sighed, trying to organize his thoughts. "There's no nice way to say this, there really isn't. My father was an alcoholic." "Oh God, Mulder." Scully's shock and pity were evident on her face. Mulder looked at her. "Don't, Scully, okay? I don't need pity. It won't change anything. Anyway, it could have been worse. He had been sober for a year when I was born, and he didn't relapse until the summer after Sam disappeared. Fourteen years isn't bad." Scully looked at him. "Mulder, what aren't you telling me?" "Scully, don't," he whispered. "Please." "Talk to me, Mulder." He turned away from her, looking at the wall with icy eyes, swallowing hard. "He was abusive. He used to come home drunk, and- God, this is hard." He smiled, humorlessly. "Anyway. He'd beat me. It- it just wasn't a good time for me." "Why didn't you tell me? Before this, I mean." "It's not really something I tend to bring up in polite conversation. Ever." "You could have told me. I would have listened." "I know. It's just-God I might as well go all the way with this. There's more I have to tell you." "Anything, Mulder." "What would I do without you? When I went to college, I started drinking. I mean, God, you'd think I'd be smart enough not to, but- I just had a lot to deal with, I guess. That's really not an excuse. Don't ever let me make excuses, okay?" "Anyway. I'm just like him. God, I'm just like him. I'm abusive when I drink. Verbally, physically, emotionally, take your pick. I had to take a year off and get my life together. No easy task, I assure you." "So, you're telling me you're an alcoholic?" "Ask a silly question." She reached out to him, putting her hand on top of his. "Seriously, Mulder." "Yeah. I guess I am." He turned his hand over to hold hers. "I love you, you know that? In my own psychotic, addicted, platonic way." "Yeah. I know. I love you, too." "Drink your vodka." "Is that gonna bother you?" "Naw. I'll live through you." "Never a good idea." "Would you prefer I revert to an alcoholic state?" "Absolutely." "Don't ever let me do that, Scully, I mean it. If you ever catch me drinking, drunk, hung-over, about to drink...you have my permission to shoot me again." "Mulder." "I'm serious." "Okay, I will." "Good, I appreciate it." "I hope so." Scully took a sip of her drink, then choked. Mulder looked at her. "What?" "It's warm." "Oddly, I'm amused by that." "Should I order another?" "You're asking ME?" "Never mind." "No, I just don't feel like playing designated driver." "I bet you don't." "Hey, that's how I ended up seeing Phoebe." "Really?" "You don't want to know." "I'm ordering another." "Oy. And I speak from experience." "I know." "Give me the keys." "Melly, I ain't so very drunk." "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn." "Ooo, and he reads too." "Be impressed." "You know I am." "I even looked something up in a dictionary once." "Mulder-" "What?" "Drink your iced tea."