When Fantasies Collide
Disclaimer: Fraser, Welsh, Ray, and Turnbull belong to Alliance and the Pauls.  Spike belongs to Joss Whedon.  Jack Sparrow belongs to Disney.  Mulder belongs to Fox.
Notes: written for the Kaleidoscope Eyes challenge



“You look like shit, mate.”

“I’m sorry.  I think that Leftenant Welsh’s eggnog is a little stronger than I thought.”

“S’all right.  I’ll help you home.”

“Thank you, Spike.  You’re a true friend.”

The vampire rolled his eyes at Ren and sighed.  You knew a vampire meant it when he sighed because they really don’t have to breathe, do they?

“Just don’t let it get around.”

“I wonder what was in,” Ren said pausing to burp before continuing, “that eggnog, excuse me.”

“Rum, of course!  What else is fit to drink?”

“Ah, Captain Sparrow, so good of you to join us!  Do you know Spike?” Ren asked indicating the amused looking vampire.

“A fellow of fine distinction if ever I met one,” Jack said giving a wobbly sort of bow that looked far more impressive than it actually was.

Ren hid his mouth behind his hand and whispered loudly, in the usual way of the drunken who thought they were being discreet, “He’s quite dead, but don’t bring it up.  He can be a bit sensitive about it.”

The pirate nodded thoughtfully before throwing his arm around Ren’s shoulders, or at least attempting to.  Ren was quite a bit taller than the man, but he hunched over accommodatingly.  The action threw the drunken pair off balance and only vampire reflexes kept them upright.

“Careful you two before you end up arse over tea kettle!” Spike reprimanded, and then paused.  “Bloody hell!  How’d I end up the responsible one out of this lot?”

Jack and Ren snickered at the grimacing vampire.

“Here hand over that bottle!”

Jack looked down at the bottle of rum in his hand and then back up to Spike.  He repeated the action a few times.

“My rum?”

“I don’t care what it is.  I’ll be buggered if I let you two have all the fun.”

“But… my rum?”

Spike flashed a bit of fang at the pirate.  Jack only blinked back at him stupidly.

Ren interrupted, “Oh let him have it, Jack.  We can always get some more.”

Sparrow thought this over for a second before smiling.

“Right you are, here.  Drink up me hearty!”

The jug paused for a second on that and mumbled, “Yo ho, ya daft ponce.”

The trio walked further down the sidewalk.  Well, in all honesty, Ren stumbled, Jack swayed with a bit of a shimmy, and Spike swaggered down the sidewalk.  They’d made almost the length of the block when a familiar black car rolled up.

“Ren!  Ren, hold up!” Ray said jumping out of his car.

“Ray!” Ren said happily.  “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t believe you actually tried to walk home, Turnbull.  Actually, I can’t believe you’re still standing after all that eggnog.  Come on, I’ll take you home,” the Detective said guiding him towards the GTO.

Ren peered at the sleek vehicle.  He looked in the window at the back seat.

“I don’t know, Ray.  Do you think there’s room for all of us?” Ren asked.

Ray paused and looked at Ren and then up and down the empty street.

“Uh, yeah, I think we’ll fit.”

Spike leaned over Ray’s shoulder and asked, “Do you think he’ll let me drive?  This baby’s like sex… with tires.”

“Nope!” Ren giggled.  “Nobody drives the Goat but Ray!”

“That’s right,” Ray said man handling the large Mountie into the passenger seat.

Spike and Jack seemed to be comfortable in the back, though Ren wasn’t quite sure how they’d gotten there.  Jack was sprawled hugging his rum bottle. Every once in a while he would peek out from heavy lidded eyes.  Spike was practically bouncing (though he’d never admit it if you asked him) and holding onto the back of Ray’s seat.

“Come on man!  Opener up!  You drive like a bleeding grandmum!”

Ray didn’t acknowledge him.  Ren leaned his head back against the headrest, when a thought struck him.

“Should you be driving, Ray?”

The blond grinned at him and replied, “I’m technically still on duty so I didn’t get any eggnog.  Every time I got near the table both Frase and Welsh gave me the hairy eyeball.  If had been just one of them, maybe I would have gotten at least a sip, but both of them?  No freakin’ way!”

“Should have just bashed their heads in,” Spike commented.

Ren gasped in horror at the mere thought.

“What?” Ray asked.

”That wasn’t very nice!” Ren told the vampire.

“Tell me about it,” Ray said.  “What happened to good old holiday cheer?  I ask you.”

“What?” Ren asked.

“What what?”

“What did you want to ask me?”

Ray laughed.  Ren thought it was a nice sound.

“How many eggnogs did you have?”

Ren scrunched his face up in thought.

“If you can’t remember than it was just enough, savvy?” Jack said suddenly.

Ren glanced back at him, but the pirate’s eyes were closed again.

“Just enough,” he finally answered Ray.

Ray laughed again.

“You know, Ren.  You’re a pretty entertaining drunk.”

“Thank you.  Would you please quit bouncing?  It’s making me ill.”

“I’m not bouncing,” Ray and Spike said simultaneously but in two completely different ways.

Ren sighed.  He was very tired.  He leaned over curling up as best as his large frame could in the seat and laid his head on Ray’s thigh.  The Detective tensed for a second before dropping his hand from the shifter to Ren’s soft hair.

“Don’t pass out, Ren.  I’ll never be able to carry you up to your apartment.”

Ren heard the muttered, “Shirtlifter” from the backseat but chose to ignore it.

“Night, Mulder,” Ren said and drifted off to sleep.



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