Fantasy Suite, Caesar's Palace

Las Vegas, NV

6:30PM

Scully looked back at her reflection was satisfied with how she looked. She hoped she wasn't too over the top. This was Las Vegas though, the capital of all things over the top.

She was wearing a black cocktail dress. It was a one-shoulder dress that draped over her left shoulder, leaving her right arm and shoulder exposed. The dress cinched at the waist and had a narrow silhouette, the hem stopping mid-thigh. It was shorter than anything she ever wore, but it was still very classy. She remembered what her sister Missy said when they were in college. If you are going to show cleavage, cover your legs. If you are going to show leg, cover your cleavage. Scully felt classy and fabulous in this dress. She was wearing pumps higher than she normally wore at work, but she bought them on a whim a few months ago and didn't have anywhere to wear them, so they sat in her closet, collecting dust.

Her makeup was perfect. She wore a bit more than usual, feeling caught up in the glamor of Vegas. She did a smoky eye for her eye makeup, and a berry colored lip stain. Unsure of what to do with her hair, she simply dried it upside down after applying some root lifter and straightened it. Her hair appeared as a longer and sleeker version of her usual bob.

Scully couldn't lie, she felt like a million bucks. And now she was off to meet Mulder for dinner?

Perfect.

Eiffel Tower, Paris Hotel

Las Vegas, NV

7:03pm

Mulder checked his watch nervously, for the millionth time. He scored them last-minute reservations at the restaurant atop the Eiffel Tower at the Paris hotel. After that, they were meeting up with the Gunmen for drinks at some place Frohike texted him about. He hoped Scully would enjoy herself.

Appearing out of nowhere was someone who looked a lot like Scully, but who totally knocked Mulder's socks off. There she was, clad in a short little black cocktail, showing off her porcelain, toned thighs. On her feet were black fuck-me pumps that gave Mulder an immediate hard-on. Her eye makeup pulled the whole look together. She was dripping with sex appeal, and that sexy little smirk on her lips let Mulder know that she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

"Hey you," she said with a knowing smile as she approached Mulder.

Scully gave him the once-over, appreciating what she saw before her. Mulder was wearing black dress slacks and a white button-up shirt, which happened to he her favorite shirt of his. Something about the way it sat on his lanky frame made him look so deliciously masculine, it made her shiver with delight.

"Uh," Mulder fumbled, trying to be cool. "Scully… you look amazing, and I…"

Raising an eyebrow, she stifled a laugh. She loved watching Mulder squirm. She loved that he was squirming because of how she was dressed.

"Don't we have reservations, Mulder?"

"Oh, yeah, right," he said lamely. "Let's go."

The restaurant was on the eleventh floor, so they made their way to the elevators, which were made of glass. The elevator whisked them up and opened just by the bustling kitchen of the restaurant. Scully always thought restaurants with open kitchens were very cool.

They moved forward to the dining area and were greeted by the hostess stand. Behind the stand was a tall, willowy brunet. Scully thought she was drop-dead gorgeous and immediately felt a surge of jealousy run through her veins as Scully watched the girl look at Mulder precisely the way Scully looked at him just minutes ago.

Mulder seemed oblivious, as usual.

"Reservation for two, for Mulder," he said, looking down at Scully and seeing her glare at the hostess.

Was she being territorial? Was he reading that exchange wrong? If so, Mulder thought he'd die right there in the restaurant. He lived for the day he'd see Dana Scully territorial over him. And of course she didn't know this, but she had every right to be, because unbeknownst to Scully, Mulder had surrendered himself to the notion that he would only belong to Scully a few years ago. All she ha to do was ask.

"Right this way," the hostess said coolly, leading them to their table.

Mulder placed his hand again at the small of Scully's back and guided her through the restaurant.

The restaurant was stunning. The carpet was a rich maroon, and the tables were covered in a whited linen tablecloth, with chairs that matched the carpet. The lighting was low and intimate. The shape of the place was half-circle, in the center was a luxurious full bar. The entire outer circle of the restaurant did not have a wall, instead it was all glass, giving them a stunning view of the other hotels on the strip. Where Scully and Mulder seated, they were overlooking the Bellagio fountains.

"Jesus, Mulder," she said in wonder, picking up her menu.

"Pretty swanky, huh?" he said with a grin.

Just then, their waiter appeared with menus.

"Good evening, I'm Richie, and I'll be your server tonight," he said, giving them their menus plus a drink menu. "Can I get you two started with something to drink?"

Mulder looked at Scully, indicating she should go first.

"Do you have a drink you recommend?" she asked, finding no inspiration in the drink menu.

Richie nodded. "Our Ciroc white grape martini is to die for."

Scully smiled. That actually sounded very good. "I'll have that then."

He turned to Mulder. "And for you, sir?"

"You don't happen to have Bulleit, do you?" he asked. It was Mulder's favorite brand of bourbon, and next to nowhere carried it.

"We do, in fact."

"I'll have a Bulleit then, neat please."

After he left, they picked up their menus.

"What's Bulleit, Mulder?"

"It's a high-end bourbon," he said, perusing the menu. "It's my favorite."

Scully made a mental note to go looking for Bulleit once they got home, to keep around her place.

"What sounds good on the menu, Scully? You want an appetizer?"

"We shouldn't, Mulder, it's kind of expensive," she said wistfully. The jumbo sea scallop appetizer sounded amazing, but she couldn't justify spending twenty dollars on an appetizer.

She looked up when she felt Mulder's warm hand over hers. She tossed him a quizzical look.

"Tonight is my treat, Scully," he said sincerely, looking into her glittering blue orbs. "You get whatever you want, you have as many drinks as you like. Okay?"

She smiled coyly. "Are you trying to get me drunk, Mulder?"

"Who me?" he said, his smirk betraying his innocent tone.

Richie came back with their drinks and took their order. Scully caved and ordered the appetizer, along with the sautéed sea bass as her entrée. Mulder opted for the braised short ribs.

"Mmm," Scully sighed. "This drink tastes so good. This was a good choice."

Dinner went on nicely. Scully was feeling the effects of the combination of Mulder, the clearly romantic ambiance of the restaurant, and the several grape martinis. She felt divine. The conversation at dinner was nice. No shop talk, just chatting. Scully told Mulder about the first and only other time she'd ever been to Vegas.

The entire gesture of dinner and drinks tonight on Mulder felt so intimate to her. It felt so good and so shockingly natural to be doing couple things with Mulder.

After declining dessert, things began winding down.

"So where to now?" she asked.

Mulder picked up his phone and scrolled through his messages, trying to find the info. "We're meeting the guys at some place called Crazy Horse. It's off the strip so we'll have to take a cab."

"Hoo boy," was all she could manage.

CRAZY HORSE GENTLEMAN'S CLUB

LAS VEGAS, NV

9:45PM

The cab pulled up to this Crazy Horse place that the guys had texted Mulder. When they got out they both immediately realized it was not just a bar – it was, in fact, a strip club.

"Mulder, you've got to be kidding me right now," Scully groaned.

He snorted. This was so typical. "Humor me, Scully. Let's go have a few drinks with the guys and we'll get outta here. No harm, no foul."

"No harm, no foul," she muttered, following him into the club.

Scully had to hand it to the guys. While they'd brought them to a strip joint, she had to admit it was a pretty classy one. The please was quite upscale and very clean. It was obvious that the girls that worked here made a lot of money from a very upper class clientele. But the place was also a nightclub, bursting with younger kids, probably out here for twenty-first birthday parties or spring breaks.

They wove their way through the club, and found the table the guys were at. They were already a few drinks in, trying desperately to not look like the misfits that Mulder and Scully both knew they wore. Scully somehow found this terribly endearing, though at this point she could probably blame that thought (and all future ones) on the alcohol.

"Mulder! Scully!" Langly greeted them, standing up, along with Byers. Frohike, however, was unable to speak or move, or take his eyes off Scully in that dress and that makeup.

"Holy Moses…" he said, finally.

"How was dinner?" Byers asked

"It was incredible," Scully said, taking a seat. "Where are the drinks? Do I have to go fetch my own at the bar at a place like this?"

Mulder smirked. Scully was turning out to be quite the soak in Vegas. He couldn't lie – he loved it.

"Let me flag down the girl who has been taking care of us," Langly said.

Five minutes later, a tall, busty brunette approached the table. She was wearing only a black, lacy bra up top. Her torso was bare, and the only things covering her lower half were a thong, a garter belt, and black fishnet thigh-high stockings which had little hot pink bows atop each one. On her heels were black fuck-me pumps.

"Hi there," she purred, reaching out to stroke Mulder's face. "I'm Destiny. Can I get you something to drink, handsome?"

"Um… uh…." Mulder fumbled. He looked at Scully, who now donned a look that could kill every person in this room. "Dana, what would you like to drink?"

Destiny turned her head, obviously missing Scully when she approached.

"Oh," she said plainly. "What can I get you?"

"Grape martini," Scully returned evenly. "And a double shot of tequila."

Clearly she was going to need a lot of alcohol to get through tonight.

Once she took their drink orders, Scully seemed to settle a bit as the group began to chat. Scully kept her observations on Mulder, who tried his best not to look like a kid in the candy store. This place had girls on poles out the wazoo here. Besides, his taste in adult entertainment was no secret.

An hour and a half later, there was no doubt the group was drunk. Everyone was laughing, having a great time, and knocking back drinks like there was no tomorrow. Mulder found that he was unable to stop touching Scully. She in that dress and those heels combined with his umpteenth scotch was a dangerous combination. Scully didn't seem to mind – at all, in fact. Their touchy-feely demeanor even made the guys raise an approving eyebrow.

It was about midnight when the music in the place really got going. Scully began to really feel old, hearing songs about getting "slizzard". A part of her wasn't even positive she knew what she meant. She felt the beats of the music lulling her though, and she felt like she was drunk enough she wanted to get on the dance floor. Perhaps Mulder would come with.

Momentarily, the guys got up and left to go somewhere. Mulder turned to Scully. Jesus Christ, that dress.

"Are you having a good time, Scully?" Mulder asked, touching her face.

"Mmm hmm," she said, closing her eyes at his touch.

"Good," he said, scooting closer to her, his mouth now right next to her ear. "Scully, did you put on that dress tonight with the intent of driving me wild?"

Scully smiled a very drunk feeling smile. "Maybe a little," she admitted.

"Well, mission accomplished," he murmured into her ear.

"So what are you gonna do about it, Agent Mulder?" she challenged, though her voice was beginning to slur.

Before Mulder could answer, he heard someone clear his or her throat. The guys were back at the table and witnessing their cozy exchange.

"What the hell is this?" Scully said with a raised eyebrow, leaning back and acknowledging the tray of shots the guys were bringing to them.

"Shots for all of us," Langly said with a grin, sitting the tray down at their table and passing them out.

"Yeah, we ordered a 'three wise men' shot, you know, after us," Frohike sad, motioning at himself, Langly, and Byers.

Mulder snorted. "Unbelievable. Dare I ask what's in these?"

"Equal parts Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels."

"God, I can already tasted the hangover in my mouth," Mulder deadpanned.

"Cheers," Byers said, lifting his up. Everyone else followed suit, clinking shot glasses. The group all knocked them back and made faces at the taste, except for Scully, who didn't even flinch at the taste. This did not go unnoticed by Frohike.

"Whoa-ho-ho, Agent Scully, I had no idea you could shoot whisky!" he leered. "That's hot."

She tossed him a modest grin. "If you all will excuse me, I need to go to the ladies' room."

And with that, Scully got up and made her way to the bathroom. She was feeling pretty light headed. When they left the restaurant, she felt pretty buzzed, maybe even slightly drunk. It was hard to admit, but she felt so relaxed and so sexy tonight with Mulder. Sure alcohol was the unseen hand, but hell it was Vegas.

She used the bathroom and thought about she and Mulder's little exchange. A huge part of her knew Mulder would never do anything with her tonight because of the sheer quantity of alcohol they've consumed tonight. She wondered if she'd have the courage sober to try to start something.

After she adjusted her hair in the mirror and touched up her makeup, she headed back to the table. What she saw before her was her very worst nightmare coming true. There was Destiny, straddling Mulder, who was probably about to receive a lap dance. As Scully approached, Mulder got the deer-in-headlights look. The guys had bought him a lap dance as a job, and this would probably kill things, whatever those things were, with Scully.

"Don't let me interrupt," she said casually. "I just needed some cash."

She snatched some bills out of her wallet and headed to the bar. Scully wanted something to erase her mind right now.

Mulder finally got rid of Destiny after what seemed like an eternity. He turned to look at the guys, who were all smirking.

"God damnit!" he said, glaring at them. "You all pretty much guaranteed Scully will want nothing to do with me after that little stunt!"

The guys genuinely felt bad. Sometimes it was hard because so often they treated Scully like "one of the guys". So they hadn't even stopped to think about that dynamic whenever they'd ordered the lap dance.

The next thirty minutes were spent given drunken confessions, most of which involved Mulder talking about how in love he was with Scully.

"Speaking of," said Byers, looking at his watch. "Where is Scully?"

Shit. She'd been gone awhile now. Mulder hoped she wasn't mad. He hoped she'd wake up tomorrow and not remember anything about anyone named Destiny.

Langly and Byers disappeared for about ten minutes, looking for Scully. Not long after, he hears, "Mulder, come quick! Scully's all grinding up on some dude on the dance floor!"

The guys rushed over to the nightclub area of the venue. Sure enough, there was Scully, who now had a bottle of Miller Lite in her hand. Her ass was grinding into some guy's crotch, and this guy had both his hands on her hips. Fittingly, "Single Ladies" by Beyoncé was playing.

Without hesitation, Mulder marched up to them, tapped this guy on the shoulder, and growled, "Get off of her."

The man looked annoyed with Scully. "You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!"

"I don't!" she said, before spotting Mulder.

Never the less, the man stalked off, leaving them both on the dance floor. Scully continued to dance now, with no one. Mulder was mesmerized by the sway of her hips with the beat of the music. He'd never seen her dance before, and it was so incredibly sexy.

"What happened to Destiny?" she slurred, nearly stumbling in her heels.

"She's gone. C'mon, Scully, let's get you home. You're drunk."

"Uh-uh," she said, shaking her head, her swaying hips now coming dangerously close to grinding into Mulder. "If ya liked it then ya shoulda put a ring on it."

In any other situation, Mulder would have laughed at Scully's witty execution there, but right now, he needed to get her home to bed. It was three o'clock in the morning.

He finally grabbed her by the waist, almost picking her up, and drug her outside, where there were cabs already lined up, since it was close to lased call. Mulder didn't even bother to say goodbye to the guys. He was all too sober now, he just wanted to get them back before the night turned into a complete disaster.

"Where to, mister?" said the cab driver.

"Caesar's Palace," he said, before nearly gasping. He felt Scully's hand on his inner thigh.

When he looked over at her, she was on both her knees. One hand was on Mulder's inner thigh while the other grabbed his head, stroking his hair while whispering one of the very few things he never expected to come tumbling out of Dana Scully's mouth.

"Mulder, I'm horny," she purred.