"I don' wanna wear this costume anymore," she pouted with a playful lilt, smiling after successfully undoing the third button of her shirt after twenty minutes of struggling.

A chorus of 'No's and 'Jesus Christ's erupted from the three men before Byers grabbed her hands and gently dragged them away from herself. "Scully," he stated like an angry parent. "Stop trying to take off your clothes."

"But isn't this wha' you want?" she teased, leaning forward to kiss Beyers who let go of her like she was on fire.

"He's going to kill us. Simple as that. Mulder is going to get here and murder each and every one of us," Beyers moaned, rubbing his hands over his face as Scully giggled and fumbled with her fourth button.

Byers had ended up calling Mulder shortly after they lured Scully here, he just was too afraid of what the redheaded agent's reaction would be that he felt it imperative that Mulder come to act as a barrier. He could tell Scully was beginning to tolerate, maybe he could even dare to say like, them, but he knew for a fact she wouldn't blow up on them as much if Mulder was here to talk her down.

But that was before she was drugged.

Now not only did they have to deal with a drugged up Special Agent Dana Scully whom seemed to think her work attire was an outfit for a strip tease, who undoubtedly would tell them all off in the morning, but Mulder was due any time now. However mad Scully would be about her situation was eclipsed by the hellfire her short tempered partner was sure to enact on them when he saw the state she was in.

"I thought the shot would counteract the anoitic effect or whatever," Langley stated while they all watched Scully struggle to pull herself upright on the bed.

"That's what Suzanne said," Beyers exclaimed as she continued struggling with the button that would turn a disheveled appearance into an indecent one.

"Where is she anyway? I think a feminine influence would be better for this type of situation," Frohike asked nervously, trying to avoid gawking at Scully.

"Oh no, I broke it!" Scully whined from the bed, holding the button out for Beyers to take from her.

"Scully, please," he pled, taking it from her as she used his arm as leverage to stand up.

"But issa party!" she proclaimed with a giggle.

"Scully, scully," Langley repeated, trying to get her attention and ended up inadvertently holding her in his arms, careening his head away from her attempt to snuggle him. "You have to wait to take off any of your clothes until the guest of honor gets here, okay?"

"What are you-" Beyers started, stopping short as Langley shot him a look.

"Who's that?" Scully asked, kicking off her shoes haphazardly.

"Your partner, Fox Mulder. Tall, broody, and comley," he told her.

"Oh Muldey!" she exclaimed with a beaming smile.

"Yeah, do you know who he is?" Langley asked slowly.

"He's my favorite person in the whole wide world," she confessed dramatically.

"You're his favorite too, which is why you need to stay dressed okay? When he gets here you can strip as much as you want," Langely replied, trying to direct her to sit down with no avail.

"Langley!" Beyers chastised. Last he'd heard, Mulder still hadn't made any sort of move on Scully nor her on him.

"What? Like he'd care," Langely replied, watching as Scully slipped out of his grasp.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly before focusing on Frohike who was sitting in a chair trying to track the data they'd gotten. She took a few lazy steps towards him until she was close enough to sit on his lap and wrap her arms around his neck. "But can we have some fun before he comes?" she asked, hugging Frohike's head against her breasts.

"What the fuck is going on?" an angry voice shouted from the entryway. They all turned in time to see one fuming Fox Mulder standing in front of Suzanne.

"I'm sorry, I thought this was your friend," Suzanne apologized as she walked behind Mulder's thunderous footsteps.

"He is," the three replied in unison.

"Muldey, you're here!" Scully beamed from her seat on Frohike. Her enthusiasm caused Mulder to falter and shoot Frohike a look of pure confusion. They all stayed still in rigid anticipation of what was to happen next. Scully, oblivious to it all, raised her hands towards Mulder and exclaimed, "Happy Birthday!"

"What the hell did you guys do to her?" he asked, taking one of her hands in his own and helping her off of Melvin's lap and into his arms.

"She was drugged," Frohike responded, trying to conceal his blush.

"She was what?" Mulder exclaimed, jumping in surprise when she leaned up to press a kiss to his throat.

"It's a long story," Beyers sighed. "But she was given an anecdote, so it should wear off relatively soon," he explained.

"I missed you sooooooo much," Scully whined, drawing his attention away from the three men and back to the petite redhead swaying in his arms.

"I missed you too," Mulder reassured quietly, moving his hands to stabilize her before looking back at Beyers. "Is she okay?"

"Yes," Suzanne spoke up. "The drug will wear off relatively soon, she just needs to sleep it off. Anoitic histamine impedes higher brain functions. It promotes suggestibility which is why she's acting different."

"Different? She seems completely out of it!" Mulder exclaimed, trying to keep his voice neutral for Scully, but his worry permeating through nonetheless.

"Anoitic histamine is often used for mind control. Brain washing," Suzanne explained.

Scully giggled and held tighter onto Mulder, burying her face in his chest which he acknowledged but only seemed to get more anxious about. "And why the hell was someone trying to get her in this state?" Mulder seethed.

"Well not everyone who is inflicted turns into a bimbo," Frohike responded. "It's not what you're probably thinking."

"What did you just say?" Mulder barked, turning around with Scully attached to him.

"Oh no, Muldey's mad," Scully proclaimed with a mock expression of anger that was too cute to be in anyway intimidating.

Mulder let out a frustrated sigh before putting a hand on her back to get her attention. "No-no I'm not mad, Scully. I'm just worried about you," he mumbled sweetly, obviously only wanting her to hear that, but the room was too small for it not to be broadcast to everyone else.

"What Melvin meant was that whoever did this didn't mean for her to get in this state to take advantage of her. They probably wanted to get her in this state so she would be too airheaded, sorry," he added at Mulder's glare, "-to finish the autopsy."

"Autopsy?" Mulder repeated.

"Wait, you mean-?" Frohie said at the same time.

"Yeah. I don't think she was jet lagged like Langley thought. I think they injected her sometime around then so she couldn't determine cause of death."

"Beeeeeeeeep," Scully exclaimed from her position on Mulder's chest.

Mulder let out an aggravated huff as he figured out his next move. "Listen," he demanded, looking at Beyers. "I want to know everything that went on, but taking care of her is my first-" he got distracted as he looked down and saw Scully unbuttoning his shirt. He reached up and grabbed her hand, halting her motions, much to her dismay. "-my first priority. She will be okay right? This is only temporary?" he asked.

"She just needs to sleep," Beyers nodded.

"Not that that'll be happening anytime soon," Langley joked.

"Do I need to do anything?" Mulder asked, trying to back away from Scully who was still trying to undo his shirt.

"I'd just make sure she didn't escape to the bar downstairs. There's a line of men dying for her to come back," Frohike said severely.

"What-" Mulder started defensively before getting distracted by Scully's hands on his face. "Wh-what do you need, Scully?" he asked in a much gentler tone, giving her his full attention.

"I don' wanna wear this anymore," she whined, pulling at her shirt.

Mulder's gaze followed down to her partially-exposed breasts before shooting back up. "Oh yeah," Langley added. "She thinks she's a stripper for some reason."

"Excuse me?" Mulder asked, grabbing her hands in his own again to prevent her from taking off a fifth button.

"Long story, but she's been excited to see you," Langley responded, holding in a laugh as Mulder turned red as Scully loudly proclaimed words of affection at him.

"You're so han'some Muldey. I missed you so much. I'm so glad y-you're here. Can we go han' out?" she rambled, swaying back in forth in what looked to be an attempt to get Mulder to dance with her.

"O-okay, Scully. We'll go," he reassured, wrapping an arm around her middle and walking her to the door.

"We're not done with this conversation," Mulder said severely, walking out the door Suzanne was propping open for them.

"Good luck," Langley shouted out as the door closed before turning to the remaining people in the room and stating, "He has no idea what he's in for."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Scully, please," he begged for what felt like the hundredth time since they'd entered his room all but five minutes ago.

"Aw come on Muldey, I jus' wanna have some fun with you," she cooed, tantalizingly swaying her hips side to side like a drunken metronome.

For some damn reason, she was under the impression she needed to give him a striptease. He'd tried unsuccessfully in the elevator to button her shirt back up, but one of the buttons was missing and she'd just kept pushing her chest out so that his fingers would end up grazing her breasts.

Now that they were in his hotel room, she was insatiable.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed she'd pushed him on and was watching with fascinated anxiety as she continued unbuttoning, more accurately - ripping, her blouse. Scully didn't wear undershirts. Noted. Each undone button deepened the ivory line that was as dangerous as it was tantalizing, the only break was a thin black strip in between the valley of her breasts.

It was a Catch 22, if he got up to stop her, she'd be all over him, but if he sat here and watched her, he felt like he was taking advantage of her. He was going to have to ask Frohike what exactly happened in the hotel lobby, because when he tried to ignore her, she'd threaten to go down there. Short of trying her to the bedm which he was not going to do, he was at a loss.

"Scully, can we watch a movie or something?" he asked as she ungracefully pulled her shirt out of her skirt to gain access to the remaining buttons.

She shushed him before taking a few stumbling steps towards him, now making her close enough for her perfume to waft towards him. When she'd pushed him on the bed earlier 'to get a front row seat', he immediately grabbed a pillow and kept it on his lap the whole time. Having her all over him and acting so affectionate was having more of an effect on him than he cared to let her know.

She managed to get the last few buttons off and with a squeal of excitement, she shed the blouse to the floor, leaving her in a black skirt and a matching black lacy bra. Fuck.

"Scully, I have some spare clothes in my bag, you can use one of my shirts as a nightgown," he offered, suddenly taking great interest in the painting of a poppy field on the wall.

Ziiippp

He glanced over just in time to see her bending over and trying to step out of her skirt. However, her balance was shit right now and he saw her careening over right next to the sharp edge of a countertop. "Scully, hey," he shouted, jumping off the bed and grabbing her upper arms to prevent her from hitting her head or falling.

She used his support to stand up fully and look up at him with a beaming smile that made his throat clench. "Awwh, are you tryin' to sweep me off my feet?" she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body flush against his own.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself," he replied honestly, trying to reign in a groan building at the back of his throat from how good her abdomen felt against his erection.

"You're funny," she snickered. "You don' wanna hurt me but you're stabbin' me."

He cocked his head to the side before realizing what she meant. He grabbed her arms and gently pushed her away at the same time he concaved his hips away from her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Noooooo," she whined uncharacteristically. "I liked it."

He let out a slow breath as he realized she was now clad in only her bra and underwear. She wore cheeky, tiny underwear. Duly Noted. "You won't like it in the morning."

She took a step towards him, and he took a step backwards. This pattern continued until his legs were flush against the bed and he fell on his ass on it. Scully used this opportunity to step in between his spread legs and reach behind her back, pushing her breasts in his face. "I think I will," she nodded.

It took him a moment to realize what she was struggling to do, and his hands instantly shot out to still her movements. The last thing he needed was for her bare tits to be directly in his face. "You're killing me," he exhaled, not knowing what to do.

Scully pouted her bottom lip at her worry and let her hands fall. "Do you need a hug, Muldey?" she asked.

Before he had a chance to say no, she wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him to her chest, effectively smashing his face in between her breasts. Her creamy smooth breasts that felt pillow soft against his cheeks and lips and smelled torturously like her. "I loooooove you," she beamed, swiveling in place so that her chest kept rubbing against him constantly.

"Mpfhsully," he mumbled against her skin, placing his hands on her hips in an attempt to get her to still. Oddly, in this moment he was reminded of what Clyde Bruckman had told him all those years ago. Would suffocating in Scully's breasts count as auto erotic asphyxiation?

"I don' want you to be sad," she confided in a comically sad voice.

He was able to pull back enough to say, "I'm not sad, Scully. I promise." His affirmation seemed to make her happy because her frown quickly became a smile. At the same time he smiled back to placate her, he noticed the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders. Shit.

She hadn't stopped earlier because she was distracted, she stopped because she'd unclasped it. He leaned away in an attempt to get away, but the movement only resulted in the bra straps coming to rest in the crooks of her arms, revealing her rosy tipped breasts to him. His cock ached at the sight and he had to close his eyes to tune out the sensory overload going on. "Do you not like them?" her sad voice asked, so much vulnerability coming through despite the drug that it broke his heart.

"They're very nice, Scully. I just don't think you really want me to see them," he replied. They're perfect, Scully would've been a more accurate response, but he'll keep that to himself.

"I always wan' you to look at them," she argued.

He felt a hardened nipple graze his cheek and he jumped violently in response, opening his eyes and seeing she'd managed to get closer. He'd always pictured being in this position before, but usually he got to put her mouth on her rather than careen away. This was the ultimate cruelty, Scully was finally making a move on him and he couldn't do a damn thing. He'd never forgive himself if he took advantage of her while she was vulnerable.

While he was looking around for something else to pay attention to while he lectured her, she'd reached down and grabbed his hand and had pulled it up to her chest, resulting in him cupping one of her breasts. The weight of it in his hand felt amazing, but he pulled away immediately. "Stop doing that," he chastised lightly, not wanting to hurt her feelings. He was learning drugged Scully had a tendency to pout and openly declare her sadness - two things sober Scully never did. Thank god for that too, because he was quickly learning it was his weakness.

"Why?" she asked, sliding one leg onto the bed next to his so that she was half-straddling him.

"Because you aren't you right now, and I won't let you do anything you'd regret," he replied. Too late.

"I am me right now," she argued, trying to get her other leg up but not having the energy to do so, resulting in her swaying and grabbing Mulder's shoulders for balance.

"You've been drugged, Scully," he told her sternly, trying to jostle her leg back down so he could stand up.

She made an exaggerated gasping sound as if this was news to her. "That's awful!"

"I know," he responded with just as much enthusiasm, as if confiding a secret with her.

"S-so," she started as he stood up fully and switched positions with her, sitting her on the bed so he could grab his bag. She seemed to be struggling with her words and he could see a line of frustration wrinkling her forehead. "So, we can' have any fun?" she asked sadly.

"We can have fun, Scully," he replied, tossing the bag next to her on the bed before unzipping it. "Just fun that involves us wearing clothes."

She whined and fell backwards onto the bed, letting her arms splay out at her sides. Oh how he'd imagined that exact visage so many times. She rolled her head to the side so she could look at him over her breast. "Can I see your penis?"

He let out a huff of shock as his eyes widened. "What?"

"We'd be even. You got to see my boobs," she explained, lifting her arms up to squish her breasts together in emphasis as if he could have ever possibly forgotten what they looked like.

"I told you not to show me your boobs, so that's on you. Besides, my penis wouldn't be nearly as pretty, so it's not an even trade," he replied, barely believing this was an actual conversation he was having right now.

At that, she sat up and scooted closer to him, so she was flush with the bag. "Hey," she declared, trying to get his attention.

"Yes, Scully?" he deadpanned, wishing he'd packed some sleeping pills or anything that might calm her down.

"Look a' me," she demanded.

With a heavy sigh, he stilled his motion in the bag and looked directly in her eyes to appease her. She had her face set in the most stern, no-nonsense Scully look he'd ever seen, but it was like a caricature version of herself that was so endearing he had to bite back a smile.

Pleased that she had his attention, she reached up and grabbed the sides of his head carelessly. She leaned forward and he wanted to laugh at how seriously she wanted him to take her words. "I don' wan' you to doubt yourself," she demanded. His forehead crinkled in confusion, but before he could as what she meant, she added, "You have a very pretty penis."

Jesus Christ.

"You've never seen it," he retorted. "And no penis is pretty."

She nodded her head exaggeratedly. "Yes I have. Well, not like that," she said, pointing to his erection. "But I've seen you fl-flaccid and it was very nice. I don' like hearing you be down on yourself, Muller. Everythin' about you is pretty," she reassured.

Dana Kathrine Scully giving him a drugged lecture on body positivity, Vegas really was as wild as people said. "Okay, thank you, Scully. I appreciate that."

Accepting his statement, she nodded and let her hands fall into her lap. Now that whatever that was had passed, he was able to find one of his nicer t-shirts for her to wear and he pulled it out of the bag. It was barely visible fpr all of three seconds before Scully whined, "Noooooooo."

"Scully, you need to wear something for bed," he stated.

"Not that one!" she demanded.

He sighed and set it back in the bag. "Okay, which do you want?"

"The Oxford one," she replied almost immediately.

He quirked a brow in surprise, but looked for it regardless. "But it's worn out and got holes in it."

"But i's my favorite shirt of yours. You-" she broke to hiccup. "You wear it when we hang out an'-an' it looks so good on you."

The statement made him curious as to how much of sober Scully was actually coming through in this conversation. Deciding not to give it too much thought, he found the shirt and passed it to her, only to have her raise her arms over her head. He decided to indulge her and rolled up the shirt so he could drape it over her with minimal touching. When it fell down on her, he brushed his hand across her neck so he could untuck her hair from underneath the shirt.

She smiled sweetly at him before yawning and turning around to crawl up the bed. He'd never been so happy to see someone yawn before. "Hey!" she called as he set the bag on the ground. He turned to look at her and she violently patted the bed next to her.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Find something on TV okay?" he told her, hoping to distract her while he changed into his pyjamas - which was just his undershirt and boxers. It luckily worked and he was sliding under the covers within a minute, free of any sexually suggestive comments from the peanut gallery.

She left it on Die Hard and snuggled into the bed, turning so she was facing him. "Thank you for taking care of me Muldey," she murmured, succumbing to her exhaustion with heavy lids.

"Of course. It was about time I tried to repay the favor," he laughed.

Her lips quirked and he felt like he could finally enjoy looking at her. Her hair was spilling out onto the pillow and the reflections from the tv were casting shadows on her serene face. Somehow this felt even more intimate than when he was defacto motorboating her earlier. She mumbled something but he couldn't quite hear. "What was that Scully?"

"You really are my favorite. You know that right?" she mumbled a little louder, reaching her hand out to grab his.

He let her fingers interlaced in his as he watched her nose twitch. He had no idea what she was talking about, but felt touched nonetheless.

"You're my favorite too, Scully," he replied to her sleeping form, placing a kiss to her temple before watching her for just a while longer.

Much like she'd watch him when she woke up, a smile tugging at her lips at the endless ways her partner managed to make her fall for him.

I have another Three of a Kind fic on my page called "Illicit Desires" if you want to see another take!