Title: She's More Fun When She's Drugged

Summary: The Gunmen have quite a bit of explaining to do.

Classification: VH

Rating: PG, for language-nothing you wouldn't hear out of any 13 year-old's mouth.

Spoilers: "Three of a Kind", "Unusual Suspects", but nothing major.

Disclaimer: Ah, what the hell, sue me. I've got nothing better to do.

Feedback: Feedback can be sent to AnnieW177@aol.com. Remember-only you can prevent cyber-fires......no flames, please!

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She's More Fun When She's Drugged

by Annie Wright

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Scully was waiting for the Gunmen when they returned to their hotel room, lying casually on one of the beds.

"I just talked to Muder," she said calmly, checking the clip in her gun. "Care to explain to me why I'm here, gentlemen, or shall I shoot first and ask questions later?"

"Agent Scully, we can explain," Byers said.

"Go ahead, I'm listening."

Byers sat down in the straight backed chair at the desk where Langly had his computers set up. "We needed help, specifically, help from a federal agent."

"Why didn't you call Mulder?"

"That's what I asked," Langly said.

Frohike nudged him. "Shut up, you hippie jerk. She's already gonna kick our asses."

"Mulder is too high profile, especially for something like this," Byers explained. "We needed someone who had enough government pull to help us out."

Scully sighed and put her gun away. "Would you mind telling me exactly what I was supposed to be helping you out with?" She looked at the three men in front of her. "I am assuming this has something to do with Suzanne."

"It always has to do with Suzanne," Langly said rather snidely. "Byers has his head up his ass when it comes to her. And she isn't even a real blonde.....did you see those roots?"

Frohike sighed. "Pay no attention to that punk-ass." He sat down next to Scully on the bed. "Has Mulder ever told you how we met him?"

"A little bit here and there, nothing definite," she replied. "Is she a part of it?"

"Part? Try all," Langly said. "She turned Byers here from a narc into a conspiracy theorist."

"Suzanne? The woman who just left?"

The three men nodded in unison.

Sighing, Scully kicked off her shoes and settled back into the bed. "Order room service, boys......something tells me it's going to be a long night." She rubbed her eyes. "Start at the very beginning, and don't leave anything out."

"So you mean to tell me that Suzanne was part of a larger government conspiracy? That she used to work for the DoD and invented some kind of hallucinogenic chemical that the government was planning on testing on the public at large?" Scully was having a hard time believing the story she had just heard.

"Yes," Byers said. "When she tried to go public with this information, the government put a warrant out on her, saying that she had killed numerous people. Ultimately, they kidnapped her, brainwashed her, and forced her to return to work for them."

Scully sighed and rubbed her temples. "I need a drink," she muttered to herself. She sighed again. "How exactly do I fit into all of this?"

"We needed someone with government clearance," Frohike said. "Someone who could get us the information we needed on her, to see if she was still working for the DoD. Someone who could find out what was going on in that conference room today."

"And because Mulder had been involved in that....fiasco.....several years ago, he would be too high profile to help you out, so you called me instead."

"Exactly," Byers said. "You could help us out without arousing suspicion."

Scully sighed and got up off the bed, putting her shoes on. "You know what? I have had just about enough for tonight. I'm going to bed, and tomorrow morning I am catching the first flight back to Washington." She walked to the door, but stopped before she opened it. "Guys, next time you decide to engage in some harebrained scheme involving DoD employees......don't call me." And she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

"She was more fun when she was drugged," Langly said.

The following Monday, Mulder was already at his desk when Scully arrived. "Heard you had quite a weekend, Scully," he said, spitting a seed husk into the trash can.

"How did they get my cell phone number?" she asked, sitting down in the chair across from him.

"I lost it in a poker game," he replied nonchalantly.

"You what?"

"I was playing poker with the guys a couple of weeks ago......I had run out of money and couldn't cover my losses, so Frohike said if I gave him your number, he'd call it even."

"Gee, thanks," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"So what's this I hear you pinched Frohike's ass?" Mulder asked with a smirk.

"What?" Scully's eyebrow shot up. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Calling Langly 'cutie', pinching Frohike's ass......maybe I ought to take you to Vegas," Mulder said. "Then I'd see a little of that action."

"Mulder, what the hell are you talking about?" she asked. "I didn't do any of that."

He grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Apparently, you did. You had been drugged.....some sort of drug that prevents upper-level thought." He gave her an amused look. "I hear you were the toast of Vegas."

"Mulder, you are delusional," she said. "Nothing of the sort happened."

"I'm serious, Scully.......you were drugged and apparently acting like a drunken high schooler on the night of the prom."

Scully rubbed her temples. "No.....No, Mulder, you're making this all up."

" 'Fraid not, Scully." He chuckled. "Frohike can now die a happy man, you've touched his ass."

She shot him a dirty look. "Mulder, shut up." She stood and walked over to the coffeemaker.

"So, Scully.......what do you say we take our next vacation in Vegas? We could go, gamble away our pensions, get hitched in the Elvis 'Hunka-Hunka Burnin' Love' Chapel, maybe take in a Tom Jones show?" He ducked as the container of non-dairy creamer flew past his head. "What, you don't like Tom Jones?"

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Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, I'll be here all week. Remember to tip your waitress.

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