Title: Crooked Teeth
Summary: In which this authoress will attempt to create as many vignette's based on one song as possible. Vignettes all based on the song Crooked Teeth by Death Cab for Cutie.
Spoilers (for this vignette): During 7th season. Post-Millenium, at least.
Disclaimer: X-Files owned by Chris Carter and Fox. I own nothing, except my laptop.
Random Info: I'm basically using small exerpts from the song as the theme for each vignette. They aren't in the order of the song.
"You're so cute when you're slurring your speech, but they're closing the bar, and they want us to leave."
I stepped out of the shower to hear my cell phone ringing loudly. Mulder popped up on the screen, and I flipped it open, wrapping my hair in a huge white towel.
"Let's go get ice cream." Mulder's overly loud voice filled my ears.
"Mulder, it's nine o'clock at night. Why do you want to get ice cream?" I switched the phone from one ear to another, trying to put on clothes.
"Because I feel like ice cream, Scully. Inhaling a hot fudge sundae distracts me from the utter failure and hellhole that my professional and personal lives have become." I sighed as Mulder played the angst card on the other end of the phone.
"Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker." I pushed a button on the phone and set it on a shelf on my bathroom. "Okay, you can talk again."
"So will you- wow, why is my voice echoing? Are you in a cave or something?" I snorted and resisted retorting with a smart remark.
"No, Mulder, I'm in my bathroom, trying to get dressed. You called as I was getting out of the shower."
"So you're naked?" I rolled my eyes, and grabbed some underwear out of the nearest drawer. I regarded them quickly, then slipped them on.
"Wipe that mental image away, and get your mind out of MY gutter. I'm putting on clothes as we speak."
"Okay, okay. Just dry your hair, and get all girly or whatever, and I'll be at your place in fifteen minutes. We're getting ice cream." I hung up the phone, and sat down on the cold tile floor of my bathroom. As much as I loved SpontaneousMulder, if he didn't start taking me out for vegetables at various hours of the night, I was going to start getting chunky. I quickly got back up and picked out a dark green sweater and dark wash jeans to wear. Putting on the jeans, I plugged in my hairdryer and began to multitask. I decided to forgo makeup, and I headed into the living room to wait for Mulder to arrive.
Mulder, for once, was prompt. He opened my door at 9:18, and whisked me away to the nearest Dairy Queen.
"Truth or Dare?" Mulder inquired, winding a string of caramel from his massive sundae around his spoon.
"No," I sputtered with a mouthful of vanilla ice cream. "We are not playing that, Mulder. I'm going to start feeling like I'm on my first date again."
"You went to Dairy Queen on your first date? This is a truth of dare in and of itself." Mulder teased, sucking the whipped cream off of his cherry.
"It was with Marty Masters, and his mother had to drive us there," I giggled, slurping more ice cream out of my spoon.
"Well, I know what can make this less like your first date and more like a real date." Mulder said, scooping the last bit of his ice cream out of the plastic container.
"Oh, really? And what might that be?"
"Mulder, is it bad that I can barely breathe right now?" I could hardly see either. The "Stripping Maven" bar obviously allowed its patrons to smoke to their hearts (and lungs) content.
"Maybe. But you wont notice that after long." He winked at me, and waved over the bartender. "I'll have a beer, and she will have-"
"A Cosmo, please." I cut in, plopping down on a barstool. Mulder sat down beside me. An awkward silence followed.
"So," I started. "This is very romantic, Mulder. Every girl's dream is to be dragged from Dairy Queen to a smoke-filled bar filled with large men with menacing tattoos." Mulder laughed as the bartender handed us our drinks.
"Scully, do you think I'm cuuuuuute?" Mulder slurred as I tried to slide him off the barstool. He had had six too many beers, and the bar was closing, and this was NOT how I expected the evening to go.
"Yes, Mulder, you are very, very cute. So cute that I think we should go back to my place, okay? So, let's go." I dragged him towards the door, and snatched his keys out of his pocket. We stumbled to his car, and I began to drive us back to my house. I couldn't just drop him off at home, and besides, DrunkMulder usually recovered after a few hours.
"Scully, I have a very, very, very serious question," he stated fake-soberly, punching buttons on his stereo.
"I'm sure you do. What is it?"
"Do youuuu lovvvve meeeeee?" He began to sing haplessly, and I couldn't help smiling. The night hadn't gone that bad, and besides, Mulder was very cute when he mixed up his words and sang questions and slurred his speech.
"Of course I do."
Final Notes: Wow, I pumped that out in half an hour. Hope you guys enjoyed it!