Rating: This story does not contain excessive violence, vulgar
language or gratuitous sex scenes, but readers below the age of
seventeen might want to take a look at it anyway.

It was previously published in a number of archives, sometimes under the current title, and sometimes under "Laced." I used to go by "Darkflurb," and "The Dark Eyed," as well as my real name, under which I posted pieces based on The X-Files, Gargoyles, and Sliders, to name a few.

Spoilers: "All Things," very minor.

Standard Disclaimer: STOP! DON'T SUE!

Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, the Lone Gunmen and the rest of the characters
from TXF were invented by Chris Carter et al at FOX and I in no way wish to take the blame um! I mean, the credit for The X-Files. Please enjoy this slightly twisted little tribute.

I wrote this quite some time ago, but I don't think it's gone bad.

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"Scully," said Mulder, looking somewhat distraught, "am I your
girlfriend?"

"What?"

"I was talking with Langly and Frohike-"

"Well there's your problem."

"-about the other night when I got back from England and you made
me tea and we talked about stuff that had been bothering you."

"Yeah?"

"Well, since then, you've been making me tea a lot."

"Yeah?"

"And Langly says that women only do that with their girlfriends!"

"And you listened to Langly? When was the last time that he talked
to a woman without hearing the words 'dotcom,' 'autopsy,' or 'get
away from me, freak'?"

"Six, maybe ten years. What's your point?"

"Never mind. But Mulder, you've drunk tea before. And we've talked
about things that bothered me. ...though rarely, I might add."

"But never at the same time. Scully-"

"You're wondering if the only reason that I made you tea and told
you about Daniel was because I'm starved for girl talk?"

"Well..."

"Mulder, if I were starved for girl talk, I'd have broken out the
cookie dough ice cream and spent six straight minutes talking about how
men are idiots."

"Oh yeah."

"That's right. That was way under six minutes."

"But that still doesn't answer my question: why _have_ you been
making me tea?"

Scully sighed. "I guess you were bound to find out sooner or later."

"Find out what?"

"It's laced."

"Laced?"

"With antidepressants."

"But I'm not on medication!"

"I beg to differ. The new Bureau director of mental health told
me that you're on 'em or you're out. I figured it was the only way to
get you to take your meds."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?!"

"We figured you'd be too happy to care. Here. Drink this."

"Scully!"

"What?"

"I can't believe you'd do this to me, Scully!"

"But Mulder, you've been so much easier to live with! You let me
drive! Twice!"

"So what?"

"You haven't tried to lodge sharpened pencils in the ceiling since
you've been on them."

"I never threw sharpened pencils into the ceiling!"

"Mulder, one time you nearly speared me in the chin."

"But I thought you were still in the - um! I mean, doesn't giving
me medication without my informed consent violate some kind of doctor thing?"

"Oh probably. I never practiced as a doctor, so there are lots of
things that I don't have to worry about: 'I shall do no harm.' 'I
shall obey my HMO.' 'I shall not put a bowel relaxant in my boss'
coffee.' And yet, miraculously, I can still order around hospital
staffs."

"Scully, how can I still trust you after-"

"Omigosh, Mulder DUCK!"

"Aaaack!"

"Okay. You can get up now."

"Scully?!"

"Yes."

"Yes what? What was it?"

"Nothing. I was just trying to see if you still trust me. It seems
like you do. While you're down there, would you tie my shoe?"

"Arrgh, Scully..."

"What?"

"What have they got _you_ on?"

"I don't know, but I think it's some kind of stress medication."

"So that explains the dancing daisy lamp."

"I thought the office needed something."

"Well, that's certainly something. You know, Scully, this really
bothers me. These men are in charge of our lives in ways that the
evil conspiracy never was! They control our paychecks. They can
transfer, fire or otherwise dispose of us at any time, and now they're
trying to control our body chemistries, our attitudes, our very
thoughts! How far will it go before we reach something too sacred,
and lose all sense of self, all sense of - Why are you looking at
your watch?"

"I'm timing you. You're four minutes and a sundae short of being
my girlfriend, Mulder."

"Oh shut up and drink your tea."

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There. The end. Like it? Hate it?

Reviews welcome.