Rating: PG-13-mostly lots of liquor.

Summary: You don't need a summary to enjoy yourself this time. Just sit back, drink and be merry. And Martha, you know which scene is for you!

Many of the events which occurred at this reception happened at my youngest brother's wedding-and I've got the photos and video to prove it.

Spoilers: Nah.
 

"You see I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
It's all brand new
You'll feel it in my kiss
I'm crazy for you..."

Madonna, "Crazy for You," from the film 'VisionQuest'. Copyright 1983 and used without permission.
 

Quae Fuerunt Vitia Mores Sunt
 

May 15, 2000

The Reception Continues.

I have no idea how many people I'd danced with; I know I danced with both of my brothers, all of the Elvis impersonators, Walter Skinner and a whole batch of Fibbies, hackers, academics...

"Excuse me, can I cut in?" the voice of Michael Frohike called out, and I realized he was referring to me and to my partner, who at the moment was Agent Pendrell, who, if it can be believed, is an even worse dancer than I am. Doing 'Jump Jive 'n' Wail' was probably an invitation to both of us being crippled, but it was fun...except when I was getting my toes stepped
on...

"Michael, next dance is yours," I promised. I hadn't seen any evidence that Michael was any better on the dance floor than Pendrell, and I'd just as soon wait for a less hazardous number.

The next number was 'Norwegian Wood,' one of the few Beatles tunes I can stand (shoot me, I'm not much for the Beatles), and I danced a slow dance with Michael, who, dressed in a tux and without his doesn't-occur-in-nature haircolor, actually looked incredibly adorable.

"This is a great wedding!" Michael declared with enthusiasm. "Well, okay, it needs more girls, but it's still a great wedding!"

"Aren't you saving yourself for Kellie Martin?"

"Well, yeah, but it's a wedding. There're way too many ugly guys here and not enough pretty ladies."

"I haven't noticed you've had any problem getting dance partners," I observed. And he hadn't.

"Well, that's 'cause everyone is drunk and they don't give a fuck who they dance with."

"Michael, there's a rule about weddings-it's not a time for your low self-esteem to shine through. Now smile for me, and quit worrying. Tomorrow you can go back to beating yourself up, if you want, but right now, you're on my time, and I'm really happy you're here." And I was.

"Really?" He said it in a small voice, as though he couldn't believe it.

"Really. I mean it."

He beamed.
 

"Hey, it's my turn to dance with the bride!" Mulder exclaimed.

"You mean you're not going to dance this one with the lovely Dana Scully?" Frohike marveled. And there was truth in that statement-Mulder hadn't danced with anyone else the whole night. That moment when I felt that it was just Langly and me alone in the world? I think that's how it feels all the time for Dana and Mulder when they're together. "Fine. I'll just have to ask her to oblige me, then." Not that this was about to cause any great hardship for Frohike-I just hoped Dana wouldn't turn him away. To my relief, she graciously accepted.

Mulder is a gorgeous piece of male, I have to admit, and he can dance, so I didn't even hesitate. After that, I had the opportunity to dance with Renegade-while his partner, Luanne Russell, she who busted Langly, was happily dancing with her second-favorite bust. I don't know what they were talking about-Luanne's a hacker as well-but whatever it was, they were
laughing pretty hard. Luanne leaned over to kiss him when it was over, and he actually kissed her back. Considering how easy it is for Langly to have a grudgefest, it was testament to his maturity that he'd quit blaming the woman.

And it didn't hurt that she'd gotten out of law enforcement, either.

Renegade is huge-he makes Langly look tiny-and he actually had me off the ground.

"You take good care of that boy, you hear?" he admonished me as we concluded.
 

Cutting the cake was a messy affair-fortunately, we only had to cut one cake. Since they were ice cream, everything was turning into a drippy, sticky mess.

"Smash that thing in my face and you get none tonight," I warned Langly severely.

"Shit, I'm not even sure I can pick this up. It's going from solid to liquid pretty fast."

"One good thing, though."

"What's that?"

"It's ice cream. There's no way we can freeze it to eat on our first anniversary."

"Well, we'll just have to get a new one, won't we?"

We cut into the nicely decorated cake. Chocolate with cookies and cream.

A good sign.

But he still smooshed it in my face, anyway.

I was going to have to come up with a suitable revenge.
 

"Okay, it's time for karaoke," the DJ announced.

"What?!" I gazed at Langly in horror.

"Yeah, this could get scary," he agreed.

"Too scary for me. I'll be at the bar."

I joined a number of staff from CU-everyone in my office, including Jo-in a feast of drinks and cigarettes as the first Elvis impersonator got up...and then another...and then another...I thought my mother said we had to be out of here by 8:30?

A number of the impersonators were really quite good-I just wanted to rest my feet, which were not particularly happy in their Payless sandals. My mother was right about one thing: always wear good shoes. Of course, since these were going to be worn only one time, I figured it would be a waste of money to purchase something other than a cheap pair.

On the other hand, you don't feel guilty about tossing cheap shoes, which is exactly what I did-right into the trash can. Doing weddings barefoot was getting to be a tradition-if you count two weddings as a tradition.

From my seat at the bar, I could see Juliet standing and talking to Mulder. Interesting-the two had never really gotten along, so I was happy to see them caught up in the goodwill of the occasion.

Not.

The discussion quickly turned heated-I'm not sure what it is about Mulder that pushes Juliet's buttons and vise versa-but they seem to have the same affinity for one other as a cobra does for a mongoose. Their voices were loud, but their speech was indistinguishable.

I didn't see Byers slip on to the scene-he must have come from the washroom-but when he saw Juliet and the expression on her face, he ran over to her. I saw a few words exchanged with Mulder, and then...

I must really be drunk, I thought. I just saw Byers knock Mulder on his ass.

"Oh, my God," Jo jumped up from the bar and ran over to where the altercation seemed to have taken place-I guess it really did, since people were gathering there. While many of them were in the same state of inebriation that I was, I doubted we were having a group mirage.

"Julie, what the hell happened?" I asked her when I'd reached her. I'd followed the crowd, lemming-like. My will gets weakened when I'm drunk.

"Just two stupid little boys duking it out," she grumbled.

"Well, you and Mulder looked pretty pissed off."

"It was nothing!" She brushed her hand in a gesture of insignificance. "We were simply arguing about the existence of extraterrestrial life-"

"Okay, that's enough to get Mulder's juices flowing.

"And John is drunk as a skunk and he thought Mulder was hassling me!" She shook her head in amazement.

"He's not as skilled in this kind of consumption as the rest of us."

"Well, he's acting like an idiot."

"Hey, you could work that to your advantage, you know. I certainly plan to." I grinned devilishly, and she returned.

"You know, you're right...I could take him back to our room, seduce him, get him to fuck my brains out, make a baby..."

"Don't do it, Julie. Not tonight."

"What, get him to fuck my brains out or get pregnant?"

I laughed. "The latter. As for the former, well, be my guest."

"I think there's going to be a lot of that going around tonight," Juliet observed. "I've seen a few people that I KNOW came separately hanging on each other like they're joined at the hip."

"I dunno. Langly is willing to bet money that Dana won't give him any tonight."

Juliet snickered. "I doubt that. He may be an ass, but he's her ass, and mark my words, I won't be the one having the kid nine months from now...but bet you money she will."

"How much?"

"20 bucks says he knocks her up tonight."

"You're on." I was willing to make a little easy money.
 

Karaoke ended with Mulder performing a Chuck Berry medley-by now, Dana had had enough to drink, and realized that everyone around her had had enough to drink-that she need no longer die of embarrassment.

"The next dance is for Ringo Langly and his stepdaughter, at her request."

I really was drinking a lot, I thought. I mean, sure, Miranda liked Langly a lot...but...

I felt my eyes misting up-again-as I watched the two of them take the dance floor. The bigger shock was the tune she'd selected-the Back Street Boys playing, "As Long as You Love Me."

I hummed along as I listened to the mundane, but so suitable lyrics...I don't care who you are, where you're from, don't care what you did, as long as you love me...and the crowd was singing along with it, in a hundred different keys. At least.

I hoped the photographer was going to get a lot of shots of that one.
 

I signed to Dana, "You know that Byers knocked your husband right on his butt."

Dana sighed, what happened now?

"Well, Byers thought he and Juliet were having an argument, and he's drunk-"

Dana interrupted my diatribe verbally, with an evil grin. "You know, sometimes it's good for him to get knocked on his ass."
 

"May I have your attention please?" My brother Jason had taken the FM wireless from the DJ. "The next dance is...pants optional."

What?!

As the evening wore on, more and more clothes were getting shed; it was warm in the convention center. Langly still had a shirt on, but it was three buttons open, the tie had been long abandoned-one of the guests was apparently wearing it as a headband-and I hoped he could find the jacket so he'd at least get some of his security deposit back. I noticed that more
and more buttons were getting unfastened, more ties getting loosened, more shoes being shed.

Our DJ started the tune "Shout" and the entire place was a mass of alcohol and sweat...and various male members of the crowd had tossed away their pants.

My husband included.

I thought Joan was going to die of embarrassment; her cheeks were bright red, but otherwise, there were a lot of catcalls and shrieks for "Take it off!"

I ended up dancing in a huge group with my sister-in-law Laurie, Anne, my nieces, a bunch of Fibbies, a couple people from CU, and Juliet.

"OH MY GOD!" I could barely hear it, but it was Juliet's scream above the crowd noise.

"What is it!" I screamed back.

"I don't believe this!"

I didn't, either. It was one John Fitzgerald Byers...joining the "pants optional" brigade.

I looked at her and shrugged. "Be grateful it wasn't Frohike."
 

The impromptu striptease ended, and the participants were looking, with mixed success, for which pants belonged to whom.

"I think these are Jason's," Langly mumbled to me. They were about four inches too short, which would be in line with Jason's height in relation to his.

"So trade with him."

"I think Jason got someone else's."

Kiss those security deposits goodbye, boys.
 

"Okay, who slipped Neil Diamond in?" I demanded as "Sweet Caroline" started up.

"Frohike," Miranda stated, going off to find a new dance partner.

The "pants optional" brigade and the Elvis impersonators had joined forces on this one-and it was probably the loudest, if not necessarily the most artistically finessed-version of the song I'd ever heard-but probably still better than it deserved. Frohike could get away with a lot, but Neil Diamond?

Yeah, but only because he's Frohike.
 

It was time to do the tosses. Our DJ announced this event by turning on the theme music from "The X-Files."

"How much you wanna bet Juliet'll run over somebody to catch that thing?" Langly asked as I prepared to do an over-the-shoulder to the crowd of single ladies lined up behind me.

"I don't think she'll run over anyone. I think she'll kill them."

"1...2...3..."

I hurled my flowers upwards-I'm not much of a pitcher, anyway, and you try doing it after this much tequila if you think you can do better. I turned around to witness a heavy skirmish in process.

With Juliet the victor. Of course.

"So Langly, you gonna toss yours to Byers?"

"I'm just gonna throw it. After that, it's up to them." He bent down to see where I'd stowed the damn garter. "Ally, you're such a chickenshit! It's barely up your calf!"

"Well, it kept slipping down. And trust me, nobody needs an unobstructed view of my thighs. There's enough violence in the world."

"Hey, they're great thighs."

"Langly, get this over with, okay?" Having my dress hiked up in a room of over 500 people is not my idea of a great time.

And we had a winner...and it was...Frohike.

I think Juliet was a little bummed that Byers didn't catch it, but it was really fun to watch Frohike in action...and if he got it any higher, I think they would have called out the vice squad.

And besides, Frohike could always work on Byers about this.

In any event, I think the idea of working a small piece of fabric up the lovely thigh of Juliet Parker would have been sufficient to make his night.

And seeing both Juliet and Byers blush was well worth it.
 

The music got louder, the guests drunker, and the dancing wackier. I've always maintained that anybody can do the Hustle-but this crowd was trashed enough that they could barely manage the steps. I knew Langly was well beyond wasted when I saw him dancing with my mother.

I danced with Agent Lowry, who was a far better dancer than I was, at least until he passed out on the floor. I noticed that Byers was dancing with Gizzie, who looked as if she could easily flip him over her shoulder. Frohike was dancing with every female there-he'd done at least a dozen dances with Jo, several with Joan, one with me, one with Miranda, one with
Shelby, one with my mother-he really had been hitting the J&B pretty hard--one with Martha, and with every tattooed love angel there. I wondered if he'd been propositioned yet. He danced with all my girlfriends from LA-several of whom thought he was incredibly cute. I'd have to relate that to him. He isn't a blusher, but he can look as if he were about to.

The DJ put on "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw," and we had another crowd sing along, none louder than Mitch and Mulder, who were outsinging the entire crowd. I finally ended up near Langly again.

"I think we've taken care of the drunk part," he said, slurring and giggling.

"So when do we take care of the rest?" I was feeling the room spinning. I'd had a LOT of tequila.

The DJ announced that the following number would be the last number of the night, and that the party would continue at the various hotel bars in the area, and everyone was welcome to join the pub crawl.

"Oh, God," Langly moaned, and for once, I had to admit that I might actually not be able to drink any more.

"Well, babe," I noticed I was slurring at this point, "at least my mother can't complain that you didn't drink your 40 dollars' worth."

"I think everyone drank their 40 dollars' worth."

"Well, that makes me happy that my mother is paying the bartender and not us."
 

The last song was Madonna doing 'Crazy for You', and it was a slow dance-I found myself melting into my husband. I was so damn buzzed-and loving it. You know it's true, I'm crazy crazy for you...

The DJ informed us that we were being turned out into the streets at this point, and that he'd see us at the pub crawls.

"So Langly? Are we going pub crawling?"

"Maybe." Then he smiled. "But not quite yet."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Getting out of these clothes, for one."
 

Fortunately, the Westin was only half a block away. Unfortunately, we were barely able to walk, and we were falling all over each other, cracking up laughing as we went. I don't know how long it took us to get back to our room, but it seemed to take forever. We could barely fit the passcard in the slot.

We flopped down on the bed, still laughing our asses off. I rolled over on to him and kissed him with abandon.

"Did you say something about tequila making you horny?" he giggled.

"That, and being alone with the sexiest man in the universe." I started unfastening the buttons to his shirt.

"Oh, God, that's great," he murmured.

"I'm just getting your shirt off."

"That's what's so great." The shirt was totally sweat-soaked. His hair was damp and began to curl under in small tendrils around his head. "Mmm. God, what happened to your dress?"

I hadn't even noticed my dress. Miranda had pinned the train up in the back at the start of the reception and that was the last I'd paid any attention. I was surprised when I looked down to see what a shambles it had become. The skirt had become detached from the bodice, and the lace near the floor was a series of tattered threads.

"Hey, it's not like I'm going to wear it again."

"Yeah. I don't think I could do this again." He closed his eyes, then opened them again. "I mean, it was killer and all, but if I had to do it again, I think it would kill me."

"Tell me about it." I reached around to try and start unhooking all the buttons, but in my current state, dealing with the dozens of fabric loops was more than I could deal with. "I could really use some help about now."

"C'mere." He began fumbling with the buttons in back. "Jesus fuck, how many of these are there?"

"Way too many."

He fumbled around for a few more minutes, sighing in frustration.

"Ally, you said you're not gonna wear this dress again, right?"

"I think once was enough, thank you."

"Okay. Here goes." I heard a loud rip in the back and felt the dress fall away from my shoulders. I was down to the long chemise underneath it, which, fortunately, was a button-free zone.

"God, did you see Byers tonight?" Langly was laughing again.

"That was Byers? I thought an alien took over his body." We were both laughing. "I've never seen him that drunk."

"I have. Once."

"I think he was having fun."

"Yeah, think so, too."

"I was really surprised about Miranda."

"How'd you think I felt?" His eyebrows shot up. "Seriously, though, it was real cool of her. Sometimes I think she hates me-"

"Then she turns around and blows you away. That's Miranda."

"Yeah. She's a great kid."

"And Joan was there."

"Yeah." He grinned broadly. "Joanie made it to my wedding. I've really got her back."

"Nice of her and Jo to offer to take the kids while we hang out in Mexico."

"Oh, yeah." He smiled again. "Now that's the part I'm looking forward to."

"Langly..." I was going to tell him about Roy, then thought the better of it. Later. Not now.

"What?"

"We owe Frohike big time for this."

"Yeah, Fro can throw a hell of a party. At least as long's Eleanor's paying."

"We need to send flowers to my mother."

"Tell Frohike in the morning." He looked serious. "Eleanor was pretty quiet, wasn't she?"

"She was partying with her friends and all."

"Yeah, but she seemed...I dunno. You know her better than me."

"Not really." I was a bit saddened to realize how little I really knew of my mother.

"She loves ya, ya know."

"I know she does."

"Hey, c'mere." He pulled me into him. "What was that Godawful song Mulder and Mitch were singing?"

"You mean, 'Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw'?" We were giggling again.

"Well, we're certainly drunk enough."

And I made love to my new husband for the first time.

END OF PART 88