~~Title: Only More Twisted ~~Author: Chel Scully and Trustyone ~~E-Mail address- delphia@mailcity.com and/or Trustyone@thewebbs.demon.co.uk ~~Rating: PG (the 'a' word and the 's' word) ~~Category: SHR (R, right?) ~~Keywords: ~~Summary: Rachel Scully stops by Mulder's apartment to drop off a case report for her sick aunt, and finds him drunk... things escalate when he mistakes niece for aunt. Sequel to "Three Sheets to the Wind" ~~Disclaimer: (to the tune of "Walking After You" by Foo Fighters) Tonight I think of fanfic as I frown/Writing it down/I don't own these characters, matter of fact/Ohh Ohh Ohhhhh/You can take'm back/You can take'm back/Ohh Ohh Ohhhhh/You can take'm back/They're all owned by Ten-Thirteen, and Fox even more/(Aren't they adored)/I don't own these characters, matter of fact/Ohh Ohh Ohhhhh/You can take'm back/If you sue me for this/You're suing me for poo/If you sue me for this/You're suing me for poo/Except for Rachel (I made her, too)/You can take'm back/I don't own these characters, matter of fact/Ohh Ohh Ohhhhh/You can take'm back/You can take'm back/Ohh Ohh Ohhhhh/You can take'm back/ If you sue me for this/You're suing me for poo/If you sue me for this/ You're suing me for poo/If you sue me for this/You're suing me for poo ~~Chel's note: What keywords can you use here? It should be Mulder/other romance, but Mulder thought is was *Scully*, so it could be Mulder/Scully romance... *sigh*. ... Thanks to Trustyone for being my partner-in-writing here, thanks to Ris for giving me the inspiration to give Rachel a Michael T. Weiss fetish, and thanks to Liv for not getting *too* mad when I told her Rachel was based on me... although she did put up a decent fight to have the character be named "Olivia" instead... Hee hee hee... And plus, I love "Walking After You," it really hurt me to turn it into a Disclaimer Theme and slaughter it so. No disrespect to this beautiful song was intended... ~~And a word from Trustyone......I'd just like to say that I had nothing to do with the disclaimer, but I did help with the plot. And I'd like to thank for Chel for taking me on board this twisted rollercoaster of a fanfic!! I loved every minute of it! :) So I'm twisted, no more than this gem a of a story.....and *now* we go to the story..... X~~~~~~~~~~~~ Only More Twisted ~~~~~~~~~~~~X Dana Scully was sick. Really sick. Sick enough to convince her visiting niece to drop off a case report at her partner's apartment. "It's not like I don’t have anything better to do," Rachel grumbled to herself as she got off the city bus. Not only would she be missing The Pretender for the second week in a row, but she would have to spend an hour at Mulder's apartment until the next bus came. Not that this was an all-together bad thing. She just didn't want to make a total ass of herself in front of him. "42... 42..." She murmured as she walked down the halls, jangling her aunt's keys and listening to the sharp sound they made in the empty hall. "42!" She found the winning number. "The meaning of life," she told herself absently. She put a hand on the doorknob, and tried to use the key. But the knob twisted and the door opened without it. Rachel blinked in surprise. Scully told her that the door would be locked... Rachel remembered the countless number of stories her aunt had told her about Mulder's fake deaths and the number of people who had died in his apartment, outside his apartment, above his apartment...Rachel just hoped that she wasn't about to find a dead Mulder, or a dead MIB... she thought, pushing the door further ajar. Rachel entered the apartment cautiously. She could hear a TV. She took a few more steps deeper into the apartment, until she could see him sitting on the couch. He had his head in his hands, his lanky frame rocking back and forth, and a half-empty, unmarked bottle sat on the coffee table next to him. "Mulder?" She asked suspiciously. She took another step forward, the floor underneath her creaked. He jumped, and his hand flashed across the table towards his gun. Luckily for Rachel, his hand-eye coordination failed him, and he knocked over the bottle instead. He picked it up quickly, and squinted at her. "Scully?" He asked, getting up in a very wobbly way. "_Rachel_ Scully," she corrected him uneasily. He gave her a slight frown, and walked past her to the door. Rachel took this opportunity to examine what he'd been drinking out of. The bottle was made of thick clear glass. There was a little bit of torn paper on it; the remains of a label. She smelled what was left in the bottle, and pulled back in disgust. It had a sour, citrus-y smell, like peeled oranges left in the sun. For a few months. "You didn't drink all that, did you?" Mulder asked in a disgusted, yet alcohol induced tone Rachel whirled around. "No I didn't! You did!" Mulder took the bottle from her, and analyzed it quietly. "*I* didn't drink all that," he concluded, and walked into the kitchen with it. "What was it, anyways?" Rachel asked, pulling the case report out of her backpack. It was a while before he responded. "Vodka," he admitted. "Orange concentrate." he grinned with an evil smirk. She froze. "You've been drinking?" "Yes, I have, which is... funny, because I usually, normally, never... I don't drink. By the way, did I ever tell you..." He came out of the kitchen and approached her. "How sorry I am about Detective White?" Rachel set the case report on the coffee table. "Detective *WHO?*" "Detective *White*," he deadpanned. Rachel frowned, trying to think what this had to do with her. Then she laughed. "But I'm not *Dana* Scully, I'm *Rachel* Scully, I just came by to drop this off." She pointed at the case report. Mulder didn't seem to take this information in straight away. There was a long moment of silence as he seemed to be digesting this. He laughed suddenly. "You drank more of the vodka than I thought," he remarked, running his hand through his hair. "I might say the same for you," she muttered under her breath. She looked at him for the first time that night. His hair was a little messy, probably from running his hand through it one too many times, he was wearing blue jeans -- <*tight* blue jeans,> she noted with an interesting twist to her stomach -- and a shirt that was halfway unbuttoned and left one of his shoulders exposed. she thought. She swallowed. Hard. "But I've got to go now," she said quickly, and made her way to the door. When she got there, she realized it was locked... She grinned. <*Now* he locks the door.> Rachel tried to unlock it before Mulder could say anything. "Scully..." "I'm *not* Scully," she tried to explain. But he grabbed her by the arm and forced her to face him. "Before you go, I need to tell you something," he said quietly, his face unnecessarily close to hers. "But, I..." She stammered, and tried to repeat her obvious identity. He gave her such a puppy-dog-look she felt her internal organs turn to oatmeal, and she was just about ready to do *anything* he told her. "Alright," she gave in, and exhaled a strangely Scully-like sigh. "What do you have to tell me?" He opened his mouth to say something, but speech failed him. He closed his mouth again, let go of her arm and walked into the TV room. Rachel saw her chance to bolt, but she also wanted to hear what he had to say. she berated herself, and followed him into the TV room. He was pacing in a rather unsteady way. Rachel sat down on the couch. "Well?" He stopped pacing, and gave her a strange look. There was a glint in his eyes that probably wasn't because of the vodka. "I, uhm..." He sat on the edge of the coffee table opposite her. "I..." Speech failed him for the third time, and he ran his fingers through his hair, again. He looked back up at her, a little desperately. Rachel just looked at him expectantly. she thought, trying to justify her actions. He suddenly seemed to get his words together. He gave her a level stare and simply stated, "I love you." <...Shit.> Rachel's mouth swung open. "You... you...?" She blinked, and laughed. "Now would be a good time to remind you that I'm *not* Scully!" She got off the couch and walked towards the door. "Wait!" He caught her by the arm. When she turned to look back at him, the pained look on his face absolutely broke her heart. "I'm sorry..." she gasped. "But, I'm really not Scully... I'm sure that if I was, I'd be happy, but..." The look on his face never wavered. "I can’t let you drive if you're drunk," he stated quietly. "Then, what..." She asked despairingly. "I spend the night??" *Now* the look on his face changed. Rachel caught her mistake too late. "Oh, waitwaitwait, that's not what I meant..." "Are you *sure* that's not what you meant?" He asked mischievously. He stood up in front of her, a little too close. "Because you *are* drunk," he whispered. Rachel stepped back. "So are you," she retorted, just barely keeping her voice level. "Can I use a phone?" Mulder sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, it's over there." He motioned vaguely, and made his unstable way back to the kitchen. Rachel found the phone on her own, and swiftly dialed Scully's number. *Ring*... *Ring*... *Ring*... There was a click, and someone coughed and rasped "Hello?" "Dana! Dana, it's Rachel. Listen, I've got a big, big problem here..." "Are you at Mulder's apartment?" Her aunt interrupted. "Yeah... but he's... drunk." There was a brief silence. "He is?" "Yes." "Is he hurting you?" She frowned. "Umm... no..." "Then you'll be okay." "But... Dana, I..." "Could you please pick me up?" "Rachel! I have pneumonia!" "You have the *flu*!" Rachel protested. "I have the flu *now*, but if I expose myself to the cold outside while picking you up I may *develop* pneumonia." Dana rasped in her evident matter-of-fact, doctor-knows-best tone. "Doctors are the worst patients." Rachel grumbled. "You better believe it! Now, just sit tight and hope that Mulder doesn't mistake you for Detective White." Dana had venom in her voice as she spat out the name. Rachel really wanted to know more about this detective. Rachel pressed her mouth into a thin line. "Fine. Sorry to bother you." She hung up as violently as possible. "Are you okay?" Mulder emerged from the kitchen. She sighed. "I'm fine." she pushed past him into the kitchen. "Six years, and all I get it 'I'm fine, I'm fine...'" He muttered, sitting on the couch. Rachel didn't have a clue what he was talking about, and she didn't want to waste any brainpower trying to find a clue. She inspected the inside of his fridge. she thought absently. She grabbed a glass bottle of water and took a big swig. It tasted a little sour, but she swallowed it anyways. She took another big gulp of water from the bottle. She glanced at the label on the water, and practically choked. It wasn't water. It was vodka. <...Only more twisted.> Rachel set the bottle down on the counter. She had drank almost half of it. "Jesus Christ..." She whispered. "How could I have drank that much without knowing?" "What?" Mulder staggered in. Rachel pointed at the half-empty. "I just drank a *lot* of alcohol... In a few minutes, I'll be horribly drunk!!" He cast her a strange look, worried but hopeful at once. "As if you weren't drunk enough already." "I'm *not* drunk! And I'm *not* Dana!" She cried, and ran into the TV room. "But, in a few minutes, I guarantee that I'l be drunk, but I can't say the same about turning into my aunt..." She plopped down on the couch in defeat. Mulder followed her, looking more worried now. "Scully, I think you should maybe..." "I'm *not* Scully!!" Rachel yelled, and jumped up. He looked a little startled. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." She apologized quickly, leaning against a wall. "I think I just need to be alone for a while." He seemed to understand. "Okay... okay, I'll be here..." He sat on the couch, and focused his attention on the TV. She closed her eyes. Time passed, thoughts wandered. She wondered, and checked her watch. Then she remember she didn't have a watch. While her eyes were still open, she looked around the room until her head swam. It hurt to move her eyes, so she just focused them on Mulder. That at least took her mind away from the major headaches in her eyes. He looked over at her, and waved slowly to try and get her attention. "Hello, Earth to planet Scully..." She tore her eyes away from him shoulders and look at his face. "Sorry, I was just..." She giggled. "And I'm not Scu..." Her legs slid out from under her quite unexpectedly, and she fell to the floor. "Ow." "Are you okay?" He stood up. "I'm fine," Rachel gasped, and then she giggled again. "Ooh, ouch..." She stood up slowly, and steadied herself against the wall. Her eyes wandered back to where Mulder was still standing and staring at her. There was a stretched moment of silence between them. "What time is it?" Rachel asked suddenly. He jumped and glanced at his watch. "9... 8." "Nine eight... alright!" She laughed. "I have..." Rachel counted on her hands. "4, 'til the bus comes!" He looked hurt. "Why do you wanna leave so badly?" "Ohhh..." Rachel felt so bad she walked over and gave him a hug. "I just don't want either of us to do something we'll both regret." He hugged her tightly, and put his hand through her red hair. "I wouldn't regret it." She pushed away from him slightly, to get a look at his face. He let go of her completely, and turned around dejectedly, combing his fingers through his hair. "No wait, let me do it..." Rachel stood next to him on tiptoes, and ran her own hand through his hair. She giggled. "Now I know why you do this so much." He grinned at her, before his face dissolved into something more serious. He put his hand on her waist and pulled her a little closer. Her eyes got a little wider. Her heart beat a little faster. She started to feel very dizzy, and didn't think it was because of the vodka. As he bent his head down and started to close the distance between them, she stammered softly, "but... I... I'm not..." her mind chanted, but the alcohol made her ignore the alarm bells going off in her clouded head. The sound of the door opening filled her ears. Rachel whirled around to see her aunt coming through the front door. "Sculleeeee!" Rachel cried, and ran to hide her face in her aunt's trenchcoat. Scully just stood there, a little startled. "See, see, he's drunk..." Rachel pointed at Mulder, who was slowly sitting back down on the couch. Scully caught a whiff of her niece's breath. "So are you," she rasped flatly. She peered into the apartment. "Mulder?" She called. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," he called back. "Six years and all I get is 'I'm fine, I'm fine...'" Scully muttered. She helped her niece down the hallway to the car. ~~~~~~~~~~~~X "Rachel, can you run in to Mulder's place and drop this off?" Scully pulled over in the parking lot, and handed her niece a case report. Rachel looked at it like it was infested with an alien virus. "Kay." She took it, and slowly got out the car. She bit her lip, and ran up to apartment 42. she thought desperately as she knocked on the door. Mulder opened it. "Scully?" "What, are you still drunk?" Rachel snapped bitterly as she forced past him. She slapped the case report on his coffee table. "So long." She gave a sardonic wave, and tried to leave. "Rachel..." he caught her by the arm, and forced her to face him. She swallowed. "I, uhm..." He bit his lip. "I would... appreciate it, if you wouldn't tell Scully... what happened, Wednesday." "Yeah..." She swallowed again. "Don't worry. I'm good at keeping secrets." She flashed him a fake smile that was more like a showing of teeth, and left as fast as she could. She straightened her trenchcoat as she walked quickly down the hall. She paused to absorb this, then started running. X~~~~~~~~~~ fini ~~~~~~~~~~~~X To send compliments, constructive criticism, cute Mulder pics... On AOL Instant Messenger: ChelScully On ICQ: 14580789, Chel Scully or Chel On Mailcity: delphia@mailcity.com On Yahoo: pusher1189@yahoo.com On WBS: Chel12562 And/or to Trustyone@thewebbs.demon.co.uk Liv: "No! No! Of course not. No, never!" Suzie: "Oy vey..." Ris: "All right... can I be scared now?" Kel: "What do you mean, 'the teacups are real?!'" Amm: "Well, I can't help it!!" Sam: "RRRAAAAANNDOOOOO!" Me (Chel): "The pics are... um... *ahem* daymdukomy..." Me (Trusty): "Can someone please tell me what I'm doing?"