TITLE: Las Vegas Gamble (1/1)

AUTHOR: Shoshana

EMAIL ADDRESS: shoshana1013@excite.com

DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere

SPOILER WARNING: Tithonus, Milagro, Three of a Kind

RATING: PG

CONTENT STATEMENT: MSR

CLASSIFICATION: VR

KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance.

SUMMARY: Post-ep, Mulder flies out to be with Scully in Las Vegas.

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me.



Las Vegas Gamble

By Shoshana



     What am I doing?  I am standing in the Las Vegas airport waiting

for Mulder to fly in from D.C.  He insisted I stay here, reserve two

rooms for tonight, and pick him up at 9 a.m.  I don't have a clue what

he has in mind, other than a cryptic comment he made about having a

little fun for a change.  I think I've probably had enough fun in the

last twenty-four hours to last me for weeks, and the sad thing is I

can't remember half the stuff that happened to me yesterday.



     I know I told him I wanted to kick the Gunmen's asses, but now I

really just don't care anymore.  I managed to get some sleep last night

and I finally feel like the drugs are out of my system.  Mulder might

have some idea how to retaliate against them for luring me out here, but

I'm losing interest in revenge tactics.  I'd just like to have a good

time for the rest of the day and get away from the three geeks before

they drive me mad.



     I'm actually glad Mulder's flying out.  We seem to be having a lot

more fun together these days, and I hope its an ongoing trend.  Ever

since I got shot in New York this year it's been a succession of

injuries or disappointments for both of us.  My latest injury, courtesy

of Philip Padgett, was primarily psychological, causing me to have

nightmares for weeks after it occurred.  If not for Mulder, I wouldn't

have made it through those weeks.  He slept on my couch for almost a

week after Padgett's death.  I told him he didn't have to stay over, but

I didn't discourage him not to.  He was there when I'd wake up in a cold

sweat, screaming and anxious, fearful that someone was there to steal

the heart out of my chest.



     So, we could really use a break.  And like my mother always told

us, 'When you get lemons, just make lemonade.'  God, that sounds corny.

 But it's true.  I'm going to get something good out of this trip after

all.  I wave at Mulder as he stands at the baggage claim and walk over

to greet him with a hug.



     "I hope you don't want to spend all our time seeking and destroying

the Lone Gunmen, Mulder."



     "Nah, I already prepared a special little something for them.

They'll get it in their E-Mail today.  Directions to the home of a

well-known computer hacker.  Except, by the time they follow the

directions, they'll be so lost in the desert they'll even be begging the

military helicopters for assistance.  They won't be bothering you for

awhile, Scully."



     "When did you have time to dream that up?"



     "It was a long flight and I couldn't sleep.  What's this about you

being drugged?  You look fine now."



     "All the side effects have worn off.  I can't remember half of what

happened yesterday.  One minute I was doing an autopsy, the next I'm in

a hotel room with The Three Stooges and Suzanne Modeski.  I'll tell you

more over dinner.  Let's go get settled first."



     I grab his arm and practically pull him out of the airport.  Maybe

my lack of inhibitions yesterday was carrying through to today.  I

really don't give a damn what anyone thinks of our relationship anymore,

especially while we're on our own time in Sin City.  I'll be damned if

I'm not going to have a great time today, with my handsome partner in

tow.



     Mulder seems a bit shocked by my mood, probably thinking that I'm

still under the influence of something.  I am just happy, happy that he

is here, and that we can spend some time together as anonymous tourists,

rather than Federal Agents.  No one will recognize us here if we stay

away from the hotel Def Con is located in, and apparently our only D.C.

'friends' are off on a wild goose chase today.



     He also is a little surprised that I only reserved one room.  It

was really hard to get that one room, considering how many

conventioneers are in town.  It is a suite however, with a sofa bed in

the living room and a separate bedroom.  I feel more comfortable with

Mulder in the next room anyway, just like on the road.



     "Scully, are you sure you're comfortable with this arrangement?,"

he asks anyway.



     "What's the problem Mulder?  Scared of my bad influence?"



     "No, you're not the influence I was worried about..."



     "Just remember that  I'm armed and dangerous and you'll have no

problem, Mulder."



     "What, me have problems?  Come on, we have places to go and Elvis

impersonators to see, Ms. Scully."



     We spend most of the day acting like real honest-to-God tourists.

We even go to the Liberace museum just for the hell of it.  And to the

Star TreK Experience, Guinness World Of Records Museum, and to see the

white tigers at the Mirage hotel.  I have never, ever had time to take

off for Las Vegas and just have fun.  Not in college, not in the

Academy, and certainly not since joining Mulder on the X-Files.  And I

couldn't have a better companion for it all.  Sometimes I feel like I

have a kid by the hand, not a grown man.  And I insist on holding his

hand.  If he thinks it's because I'm a little woozy from yesterday,

that's fine.  I'm getting used to it and I'm not letting go now.



     When we get back to the hotel, we change into nicer clothes and go

down to have a real dinner in a candlelit restaurant.  Considering all

the crappy places we usually eat, I am delighted.  This was Mulder's

idea, and I am impressed.  He wants to know more about the fiasco

yesterday and I fill him in on the details.  He can't believe that Byers

was still carrying a torch for Suzanne Modeski, but he guesses that

those guys don't get out much and that lightning only strikes one of

them every ten years.  I really want to ask Mulder if lightning bolts

have ever struck his seemingly dense head, but I decide that maybe that

is just too much of a hint for now.  I want us to create our own

electrical storm later, courtesy of Ms. Dana Scully's devious plan.



     It is finally time to push this relationship over the edge, and

although I was told by the guys of my flirtatious activities yesterday,

I know that the only thing that was missing yesterday was Mulder, the

man I truly care about.  I am sure he is in love with me, especially

after he took me out on that baseball diamond, and knocked a few out of

the park with me.  I saw desire in his eyes that night, mixed in with

the familiar, steadfast conviction that he might screw things up

royally, crossing the wrong damn line in the sand.  He had all but left

it up to me.  And I'm ready to hit a home run now, taking that seductive

game of baseball to its logical conclusion.



     So, we walk around outside after dinner, enjoying the lights and

excitement of the Strip.  I don't care to gamble, at least not while I'm

sober, I guess.  The spring air is crisp and clean.  Hot summer

temperatures haven't set in yet, and the nights have cooled down to a

comfortable level.  We stop and pick up a decent bottle of wine and head

back to our room.  We haven't seen one person we know all day.  We

haven't witnessed, walked in on, or prevented one crime all day.  I feel

like a different woman, a woman with a secret life that I can only share

with Mulder, and he can only share with me.



     We watch some very bad science fiction on a cable channel, drink

our wine slowly, and to my delight Mulder puts his arm around me and

never lets go.  Maybe Plan B is unnecessary.  Maybe I don't have to go

change into something sexy, maybe things will just happen.  I know he

has something on his mind when he mutes the television, looks straight

at me, and expresses a solemnity in his eyes I haven't seen all day.



     "Scully..."



     "Yeah..."



     "I had a wonderful day today."



     "I did too."



     "Scully..."



     "Mulder, I love you, too."



     I could tell him that aliens are launching an attack right this

minute and he wouldn't hear a word I was saying.  He heard me say those

five affectionate words and his face went through a sweet metamorphosis,

spellbound by the weight of them.  The smile in his eyes matches his

goofy grin, as he leans over and kisses me briefly, experimentally,

before we make the leap into passionate, deep kisses that last as long

as we want them to.



     I almost want to thank the Lone Gunmen for making this possible.

Unfortunately, they are probably lost in the desert at this very moment,

cursing Def Con, Dana Scully, and the U.S. Government.  They'll get over

it.  Fortunately, I am never going to get over Fox William Mulder.



fin



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