Language: We're potty mouths, all of us.

Sex Disclaimer: subtext, innuendo, a nudge and a wink, but nothing graphic.

Location: Washington, D.C., the nation's capital. Some places are real, some (sadly) are now closed, some are made up.

Part 7

Scully and Gabrielle were standing by the door when I returned.

Scully smiled her thanks as she took her coat from me. "Looks like there are plenty of cabs outside."

"Thank goodness. It's cold out there." I handed Gabrielle her coat.

She wordlessly shrugged into the black leather jacket, her eyes still scanning the dance floor. Finally, not finding what she was looking for, she turned and walked out the door.

Scully and I looked at each other for a moment before I spoke. "Do you think this is a good idea? Going to another bar, I mean?"

"It's a good place to sit and talk, and I think that's probably what she needs right now." Scully buttoned her coat. "Let's go."

I looked out the grimy cab window as Scully quietly gave the driver an address. When she settled back into the vinyl seat, I said, "M Street...that's in Georgetown."

"That's right." Seeing my skeptical expression, she added, "But it's not what you'd call a typical Georgetown bar. No Marines, no frat boys."

I nodded. "How do you know about it?"

"I live nearby."

"Oh." I once again turned my attention to the dark and empty streets of D.C.

The rest of the short ride passed in silence, and we soon found ourselves in front of a narrow yellow building with a dingy green awning. Several older black men in jackets and hats stood around the door smoking cigarettes and talking. On seeing us, one of them pulled open the door with a wink and an "Evening, ladies." Even Gabrielle smiled as we entered the bar.

I breathed in the warm amber air and looked around the room. There was a small stage to the left of the door; just ahead of us were several round tables crowded with people listening to the smoky blues coming out of the battered speakers.

"I usually sit back there," Scully pointed to some dimly lit booths in the back of the room. "We can still hear the music, but it's not too loud to talk."

We found an empty booth and sat down, Gabrielle and Scully facing the stage. I arranged our coats against the wall, creating a makeshift backrest, and stretched out sideways.

In front of me was a long, battered wooden bar. "Wow, looks like that's been here forever," I breathed.

"It has. Came with the place." Our waiter put down some cocktail napkins, then gave Scully a friendly nod. "What would you like?"

"Single malt. Do you have Caol Ila?"

"Good choice. I'm sure we do." He smiled approvingly and turned to Gabrielle.

"That sounds good. I'll have the same."

"Very good. And you?"

I looked past him at the row of beer taps that lined the bar. "Dominion ale and a glass of water, please."

"Sure thing. I'll be right back with your drinks, ladies." He turned and walked over to the bar.

Gabrielle was tapping her foot as she watched the band, her shoulders visibly relaxing.

Scully leaned her head against the back of the booth, then looked over at Gabrielle. "Better?"

Gabrielle bowed her head slightly then, with a tentative smile, said, "Yes. Thank you."

"Good. I'll be right back." Scully stood, hesitated, then turned to me. "Staesh, I need to get something out of your purse."

"Sure." I pulled it out from under the coats and handed it to her. "Take it with you."

"Thanks." She turned and walked toward the restrooms.

Our waiter reappeared. "Dominion ale and a glass of water, two Caol Ila, and some spring water." He looked at me. "Would you like to start a tab?"

"What do you think, Gabrielle?"

She shrugged. "The band's pretty good. Might as well."

"All right then. My name's Jack. Just call if you need anything." He tucked his tray under his arm and left.

"Nice guy," Gabrielle commented.

"Mmm-hmm." I watched as she poured some of the spring water into her scotch.

She lifted the glass and inhaled deeply before taking a small sip. "Oh, that's good."

I couldn't stifle a smile. "You certainly do enjoy your food and drink."

"Everyone always says that," she said with a small laugh. "It's true, though. Did you want to try this?"

"Oh, no thanks."

"You don't like scotch?" She fidgeted for a moment before settling down, crosslegged, in the booth.

"I do, actually, I'm just sticking with beer tonight."

"Good idea. I probably should have done that myself," she said as she arranged her skirt over her knees.

Looking up, I saw Scully come out of the restroom. Rather than heading toward us, she went up to the bar and spoke to the bartender. He nodded and handed her something, and she returned to our booth.

She set my purse, a pack of cigarettes, and a book of matches onto the table before sliding onto the bench, kicking off her shoes, and tucking her legs under her body.

Gabrielle and I watched as Scully rapped the pack against her wrist, then unwrapped the cellophane and foil, balling them up and putting them on the table.

She pulled a cigarette halfway out of the pack, then stopped. "Is this going to bother you?" She looked from me to Gabrielle.

"No. Go ahead." Gabrielle picked up the ashtray and moved it closer to Scully.

"Uh-uh." I shook my head. Keep quiet, Staesh. This is none of your business.

"You can go ahead and say it," Scully said to me, then lit a cigarette. She took a deep drag, then continued, "You know you want to."

I blushed and looked down at my drink. "You're a big girl, you can do whatever you want."

Scully smiled at me then said seriously, "I do appreciate your concern."

"So, what's it like having guys with guns coming after you every day?" I took a sip of beer.

"Have you been in many shootouts?" Gabrielle's eyes were wide with curiosity.

Scully laughed. "Shootouts? No." She flicked the ashes off the end of her cigarette. "Nope, no shootouts."

"Oh, that's right. You go after renegade palm readers."

Scully and Gabrielle both laughed at my comment. "Haven't come across any of those," the FBI agent said, "though I won't rule out the possibility."

"So what kinds of cases have you worked on?" Gabrielle leaned her elbows on the table, her interest piqued.

"You know, the usual. Crazed housecats, giant alligators, mutated flukeworms." Scully prepared her drink and took a sip. "Mmm. Peaty."

Gabrielle looked at her in disbelief. "Crazed housecats."

"And those were the cases with scientific explanations. Well, reasonable hypotheses, at least." Scully snorted.

Gabrielle and I looked at each other. She's got to be pulling our leg.

"Go on." Gabrielle reached for the cigarettes.

Scully handed her the matches. "You know those things are bad for you, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Gabrielle impatiently waved a hand. "Keep going."

"Well, as I said earlier, we investigate cases that deal with the paranormal. Things that cannot be easily explained."

"That covers a lot of territory, doesn't it?" I bent one knee, crossing my arms loosely around it.

"Yes, it does." Scully nodded. "Myths, superstitions, UFOs..." Her voice trailed off and she shrugged her shoulders.

I laughed. "The FBI investigates UFO sightings? I thought the Air Force was in charge of that."

Scully sighed. "We get called in sometimes, usually by private citizens. My partner has a...reputation...in certain circles."

"I see." I leaned back against the wall. "So, how did you get involved in all of this? It just seems odd for a pathologist, I mean, I would have expected-"

Scully smoothly cut me off. "You'd think I'd be working in the lab." She stubbed out her cigarette. "Actually, I was teaching forensics at Quantico until they teamed me with Mulder."

"Who's Mulder?" Gabrielle tilted her head, her chin cradled in one hand.

Scully picked up her drink. "He's my partner."

"The one you shot?" I reached for my beer.

She said, with a touch of amusement, "Yeah."

Gabrielle looked from me to Scully. "You *shot* your partner?"

Scully nodded as she took a sip. "Mmm hmm. In the shoulder. Years ago." She looked at Gabrielle, then put down her glass. "He didn't leave me any choice."

"And you're still partners? He must really trust you," Gabrielle said softly.

"Yes, he does. We've been through a lot together." Scully reached for the cigarettes, tapped the pack on the table, then set it back down. "So, how long have you and Xena been roommates?"

Gabrielle remained silent for a moment, flicking the ashes from her cigarette. She took a last drag, crushed the butt into the ashtray, then said, without looking up, "Three years."

Scully nodded. "Were you friends before that?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "No, not really." She took a deep breath. "We..." She shook her head again, then looked up at me. "It's a long story."

I shifted to face forward, resting my chin on one knee. "How did you meet?"

"It was right after I moved here. I had just started working for the clinic, doing outreach, needs assessment, stuff like that." She dropped her hands into her lap. "I stayed out later than usual one day, so it was already dark. I was walking to the subway when these kids tried to jump me."

My eyes widened.

"She came out of nowhere. Before I even had time to react she'd taken down the leader and the rest ran away." Gabrielle smiled. "It was amazing."

"Sounds like it." I finished my beer. "Then what happened?"

"For a minute I just stood and stared at her." Gabrielle's voice softened. "She was just so...wild. Feral, almost. She could barely keep still long enough for me to thank her."

Scully and I sat, silent, waiting for Gabrielle to continue.

"She asked me where I was going and offered to walk with me. I told her it wasn't necessary, but she insisted. Said she'd feel responsible if anything happened to me. She walked me all the way home."

Gabrielle looked down at her hands for a moment, then continued. "She told me that I shouldn't be out there at night by myself. I got so angry--I mean, who did she think she was, anyway?" Gabrielle's face flushed as she recalled her indignation. "I yelled at her, told her I could take care of myself. She just smiled. Didn't say another word until we reached my apartment."

Scully added the last of the spring water to her drink, swirled it gently, then took a sip. Glancing over at our empty glasses, she leaned slightly out of the booth, gave a small smile and a wave, and settled back in her seat. "Then what?"

"I thanked her for helping me. She told me to be more careful, then she left."

"And that was it? She just left?"

Gabrielle laughed at my outburst. "That was it."

Our waiter came up to the table. "Sorry for the delay. I was just talking to some friends," he gestured toward the crowded tables in front of the stage. "Can I get you another round?"

"Well, actually..." Distant warning bells sounded in my pleasantly fuzzy mind. How many drinks have I had tonight, anyway? Hope I have some gatorade at home.

"Oh, come on, Staesh." Gabrielle put a hand on mine. "Just one more."

"All right," I drawled, "but this goes against my better judgment."

"I'll bring those right out." With a smile and a wink, the waiter walked back to the bar.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the booth. "Nice arms."

Gabrielle giggled. "He is a cutie."

"You two." Scully's smile belied the teasing tone in her voice.

To be continued...