"Scully, I'm a beer man, but I don't know how you can
drink this stuff." Mulder grimaced and handed her back
her pint of Guinness.

Scully grinned. "I'm Irish, Mulder. It's practically required.
I don't know how you can stand that watered-down swill you
call beer."

"Excuse me? This is Sam Adams, 'the best-tasting beer in
America.' Watered down?"

"Yeah, whatever." Scully drained the rest of her beer and
set the empty glass down with a satisfying clunk. "You look
ridiculous in that hat, you know."

"Yeah, whatever," he said, echoing her mockingly. The bright
green cardboard hat with the words Happy New Year written
on it in silver glitter perched precariously atop his head. "It's
New Year's Eve. Let your hair down a little."

"My hair is down." She smiled at her partner. The truth was
he looked downright endearing in the silly holiday hat, but she'd
be damned if she let him know it. This had been a good idea,
she decided. After a month of pretending to be lining up dates
and contemplating parties, they had both finally admitted they
had nothing to do on New Year's Eve, and decided to spend
the holiday with each other. At Mulder's favorite bar, no less.
They were seated at a cozy, semi-private table in the corner
of the room, an oasis amidst the drunken revelers, and she
was genuinely enjoying herself, discussing New Year's Eves
of Days Gone By, their all-time Worst High School Experiences,
and the Knicks' chances this year of getting past the Rockets.

Mulder watched Scully pursing her lips thoughtfully and idly
wished she was wearing one of the cardboard hats they were
giving away at the bar. She'd probably look pretty cute in one.
Not that she didn't look cute already, in black jeans and a tight
green bodysuit that emphasized every curve of her trim figure.
Don't even think about it, he admonished himself, taking a swig
of beer. Dangerous thoughts, indeed.

"Where'd our waiter go?" Scully wondered aloud, craning her
head around. "Hey, Steve, over here!" The tall, Adonis-like
waiter was there in a flash, as if magically summoned. "Another
pint, please, and more of that sissy beer for my friend, here."

"Are you sure that's all I can get you?" the waiter asked. Mulder
had the distinct impression that this alcohol-serving Don Juan
was trying to look down Scully's bodysuit. Hey, no one else was
supposed to do that! At least, he thought, trying to comfort
himself, Scully was way too smart to fall for such an obvious line.

"Why, what are you offering me?" Scully asked, smiling up at
the young man. Mulder almost choked on his beer.

"Anything you like," the kid said lasciviously. "Whether it's on the
menu or not."

"Well, when I think of something, I'll let you know," Scully told him,
obviously enjoying herself. Mulder watched Scully watch the waiter's
back -- okay, who am I kidding, Mulder thought -- the waiter's butt --
as he walked away. She studied the bottom of her glass for a while,
smiling to herself, apparently lost in some fantasy he probably didn't
want to think about too closely.

"Scully?" No response. "SCULLY?"

"Huh?" Her head jerked up. "Sorry, Mulder. I was just...thinking."

"I'll bet. Looks like you might wind up with a date for New Year's
after all," Mulder ribbed her good-naturedly.

She looked at him from beneath heavy-lidded eyes. "Maybe I will.
What's the matter, Mulder? Jealous?"

"Would you be disappointed if I said no?" he countered.

Her steady gaze met his. "Maybe I would."

Eye contact lingered for long moments as Mulder struggled for
something to say. "Maybe I am," he finally managed.

"Mulder..." They stared at each other, wondering if they were about
to cross some invisible line that had been drawn for them the instant
they had met in a small basement office.

Adonis/Steve naturally chose that moment to reappear, setting fresh
beers down in front of them. The mood was broken. "This round's on
me," he told them, but he was looking at Scully as he said it.

She tore her eyes away from Mulder and looked up at the young man.
God, he was gorgeous, with those blue eyes and black hair, and those
muscles...wow. "Thanks."

"Let me know if there's anything else you want."

"I certainly will." She turned back to her partner, who looked like he
had a bad taste in his mouth. "So, what were we talking about?" she
asked innocently.

Mulder cleared his throat. "I believe we were about to discuss your
taste in men."

"That's funny. I thought the matter under discussion was your jealousy."

"Okay, then, new topic," he bellowed.

A smug smile spread across her face. "Fine." She searched for a safe
subject, hit upon the most obvious one. "So what's your New Year's
resolution?"

He grew serious, taking a drink before replying. "Same resolution it's
been every year since I was 12."

She nodded, reached out and covered his hand with her own. There
was no need for him to say more. "I hope it's this year, Mulder."

"Thanks, Scully. So, um, what's your resolution?"

She pulled her hand away and smiled. "Same it's been every year
since I was assigned to the X-Files. To have a date. Uninterrupted,"
she said pointedly.

"Frohike's always available," he reminded her.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm not *that* desperate. Yet."

"Well, when you are, just let me know," he said, teasing her. She glared
at him in response.

"It's almost midnight," she noted, glancing at her watch. "Hmph."
She rested her face in her hands.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing." The sadness in her eyes belied her words, and he
searched her face curiously.

"Come on, Scully, don't leave me hanging like that."

She sighed a sigh tinged with despair and disappointment. "It's just that...
well...I've never been kissed at midnight on New Year's. Every year I hope
and...well, it's silly."

The countdown started around them as he stared at her intently.

Ten, nine...

"There's a first time for everything, Scully."

Eight, seven...

Her cheeks colored. "Mulder, that's not necessary."

Six, five, four...

He leaned in close, his mouth hovering above hers. "What are you
afraid of?" he whispered.

"Nothing. I..."

Three, two, one...

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The bar erupted around them in a cacophony
of excited cheering and honking noisemakers. Before she could even
think about stopping him, Mulder pressed his lips to hers, softly, gently,
undemanding. Time stood still as Dana felt an electric thrill run through
her at the feel of his warm lips against her own. The kiss was somehow
sweet, chaste, and incredibly erotic, all at the same time.

He pulled away finally, and caressed her cheek with the palm of his
hand. "Happy New Year, Scully," he said quietly.

"Happy New Year, Mulder."

end.