***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter, and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it. ========== Mixed Drinks: Everclear and Kool-Aid by shannono shannono@iname.com Vignette, Maggie Scully first person, Mulder/Scully UST Rated PG Spoilers (minor) through "How the Ghosts Stole Christmas" Summary: Maggie and Dana endure the New Year's Eve party from hell. Sequel to "Rum and Coke." Author's notes: This may not be quite the sequel all of you had in mind; it's certainly not what I expected. All credit/blame for the POV to Brandon Ray, who gave me the idea. Also unedited, so any mistakes and/or confusion are, once again, all my fault. (And yes, there's more coming ...) Dedication: To my old college buddy Aaron, who won't read this unless someone tells him to, for inspiring the title. I never forgot the story he told about the most drunk he ever was ... ========== Mixed Drinks: Everclear and Kool-Aid by shannono Ahhh, the neighborhood New Year's bash. Fifty or so people related only by proximity, drinking way too much and trying not to permanently insult each other. Of course, refusing the invitation would have been the worst insult of all, so here I am, dragging my reluctant daughter behind me. I figure two hours should be enough punishment. That's my Dana. Never one to put familial duty ahead of those in *real* need, especially during the holidays. And is Fox ever in real need. If it had been solely up to me, I wouldn't have said a word about her late arrival on Christmas morning. But with Billy there, I had to do *something* to head off his annual blustering rant against Fox, so I built up a good Scully head of steam and told her I was "so disappointed" in her. She, of course, apologized meekly, and agreed, however reluctantly, when I asked her to come to this shindig with me. Shindig. Yeah, that's the name for it. Noisy, crowded, full of drunks on their annual rampage. This is *not* the kind of place you'd ever find me, if I didn't have to live with these people the rest of the year. Excuse my cynicism. It's not like me, but this party just seems to bring out the worst, in everyone. I'm not going to touch that bowl of punch with a ten-foot pole. I made that mistake two years ago, and ended up with a glass of a bright red concoction that burned my sinuses when I sniffed it. I did a little investigating, and discovered it was cherry Kool-Aid spiked with Everclear. Lovely. Just the crowning touch they needed to make this a real frat party. Dana and I have been wandering together for over an hour now, and I'm a bit surprised that I've attracted nearly as many would-be suitors as she. Of course, the average age of this crowd -- chronologically, not mentally -- is much closer to mine than hers. So we're fending off passes as we go, my goal only to make sure everyone knows I showed up, and then get us both out of here in plenty of time for us to get back where we want to be. You see, for the past four years, I've brought in the New Year in the same way -- on the front porch, alone with a glass of champagne, with my eyes tightly closed and the memory of Bill's arms around me. Last year, the porch was Billy's, not mine, but I kept up the tradition. This year, I want to be back at home. As for Dana ... well, there's no way I'm going to let her be alone tonight. I know what was happening this time last year, and I know exactly where she needs to be tonight. She'd never admit it to *herself*, much less me, but if she's still here or at my house when the clock strikes midnight, she'll never forgive herself. So I'll give us another fifteen minutes of mingling before we're out the door, and then I'm going to send her on her way with instructions to wish Fox a Happy New Year from me. And she'd better not try to resist. Because if I have to drag her over there kicking and screaming, those two are going to ring in this New Year together. Call it my New Year's resolution. ==========END==========