Title: Three Wishes
Author: JBeanfest

Hi. This story is kind of a mixture of a B-movie and an X-File. It was kind of a sequel to the three Leprechaun movies at first, but I've changed the storyline a little. Anyone who's seen these extremely cheesy movies knows that the stories in the three didn't match too well anyway. If you haven't seen the Leprechaun trilogy, and if you like your cheese, go rent one of them, or all of them. You don't have to see them in order to understand this story, however. Anyway, this story's just for fun so don't take it too seriously. I encourage you to e-mail me and tell me exactly what you think. There isn't a detail too small to complain about, feel free to rip me to shreds, but tell me what you like, too. This was sent to EMXC last winter some time, just warning you. It’s rated maybe PG-13 to an R for language. It’s a borderline romance although I am a devout anti-relationshipper.   The X-Files and every wonderful aspect thereof belong to the brilliant Mr. Chris Carter, FOX Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions. The Leprechaun movies and Fazio belong to Trimark Pictures, I think. Oh, and the quickly-mentioned *Lois and Clark* belongs to ABC and DC Comics. Sorry. I use all this stuff without permission and I apologize sincerely.  


Las Vegas, Nevada
October 20, 10:12 p.m.  

Not far from the busy colored lights and action of the strip, in the endless shadows masking the alley behind the Lucky Shamrock he sat. Beside a dumpster twice as tall as he, bathed in darkness, he concentrated on the task at hand, his dark green eyes glowing with satisfaction and greed. Little fingers carefully counted out lustrous golden coins, one by one, and stacked them in impeccably straight stacks of ten.

"Ninety-eight," the little man whispered, "ninety-nine," suddenly an uneasy silence descended on the dark alley. A coin was missing. In a fit of passionate rage, the little man kicked at the dumpster, leaving an imprint from the buckle on his shoe in the dirty green metal side.

"Stevens." The man hissed, starting for the back entrance. As the door swung open, light spilled into the alley and onto the little man's face, revealing a malevolent, dagger-toothed smile.  


Washington DC. October 22, 9:06 a.m.

On the screen, the slide showed a dark-haired man in his early thirties dressed in a glittering blue suit. He appeared to be some type of performer. Scully surveyed the picture, noting two outstanding things: the look of terror frozen in time on his face, and the fact that he had been cut in half at the waist. Scully winced and looked over to Mulder. He stood to the right of the screen, looking back at her with a slight smile on his face.

"Scully, meet Don Stevens, otherwise known as "Fazio the Great."

"Well, I see he wasn't David Copperfield. What happened?"

"He was performing his act in a second-rate Vegas casino when he was joined by an assistant." Scully nodded. Mulder continued, "In front of a crowd of about twenty, his "assistant" slightly botched the old saw-a-man-in-half bit." Mulder reached over and handed Scully the file.

"So, what's your interest in this case?" she asked. Mulder went to the next slide, a black-and-white that looked to be taken from casino security cameras. "What am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Him," Mulder pointed out a very small man sitting on a roulette table. He was dressed in a suit, a top-hat and little shoes with big ridiculous buckles on them. "Twenty witnesses have somehow all come to the same conclusion that he is a leprechaun."

"Mulder," Scully sighed, "leprechauns are fairy tales; they're about as legitimate as Santa Claus."

"Next you're going to tell me the Easter Bunny's a fake," Mulder said, smiling back at her.

"Did it occur to anyone that this was just a sick, vertically challenged man in a Halloween costume?"

"Leprechaun or not, this man is responsible for one death, possibly more. Grab your dice and your lucky horseshoe, Scully. We're going to Las Vegas."  


Las Vegas, Nevada 3:34 P.M.

On either side of the road, tall, elaborate buildings reached toward the pale blue desert sky. In their green rented Ford Taurus, Mulder and Scully cruised the Las Vegas strip, headed for the Mirage. Al Fred, a blackjack dealer at the Mirage, had been at the Lucky Shamrock the night Don "Fazio" Stevens was murdered. Al had reportedly been bitten by a rather short man in a green suit an hour before Fazio's last exit. In the passenger seat of the Taurus, Scully glanced over the files once more. In the past week, four deaths had occurred at the Lucky Shamrock, three accidental. One woman, Tammy Toman had fallen down an empty elevator shaft, a young man named Jeff had drowned, while skinny-dipping with his friend Michele, in the pool, and the owner himself, Wayne Grayson, had been electrocuted while plugging in his television. Since then the hotel and casino had been closed. The deaths were ruled accidental, but Scully figured Mulder thought they were somehow connected with the leprechaun.

"Al Fred mentioned something about graffiti on the elevator wall," Mulder said as he pulled into a space in the Mirage parking garage, between a pink Lincoln and a Volkswagen Minibus.

"I remember a mention of that in the police report, but what does it have to do with the murder of Don Stevens?" Scully asked. Lately, she had been experiencing less resistance to Mulder's ideas, but the idea of evil Irish fairies seemed just too far past the realm of plausibility.

"Scully, there's only one thing you have to do to a leprechaun to get on his bad side." the last elevator on the right was the one. Mulder pressed the button.

"And that is?" Scully asked. The elevator opened, and she followed Mulder inside. He looked around, then kneeled on the floor to get a good look.

"One should never try to steal a leprechaun's gold," Mulder said. He looked up to Scully and gave her a little half-smile. There it was, scrawled plainly on the wall in green crayon.

It was at least thirty degrees closer to decent inside the casino. Mulder walked quickly through rows of slot machines, headed for the blackjack tables. He paused in front of a machine titled "Luck 'o the Irish," reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. He looked to Scully and smiled before popping it in. A rainbow, a shamrock and a pot of gold fell in line across the machine. He lost.

"Try your luck, Scully?"

"Mulder, do you know the odds? These things lure you in and take all you have." Mulder dropped in another quarter.

"Well there it goes, all I have." He smiled. Three shamrocks lined up across the front of the machine. Eight quarters fell into the tray, making a satisfying metallic clang.

"You just have to quit while you're ahead." Mulder gathered his winnings and shoved them in his pocket. Scully smiled.

Mulder recognized Al Fred from the Polaroids he had taken of his bitten arm for the police. He was an older man, thin and tall, standing behind an empty blackjack table. Mulder reached for his badge as they approached.

"I'm Special Agent Mulder and this is Special Agent Scully, we're with the FBI We'd like to ask you a couple questions."

"About what?"

"About the man who reportedly bit you," Scully replied.

"That wasn't no man, that was a leprechaun. The same leprechaun who killed that magician."

"Do you have any idea why he bit you?" Mulder asked.

"It was about some gold. He had some rhyme... I don't remember how it went. He kind of followed me around for a little while before he asked me about his gold and when I said I didn't have it, the little bastard bit me."

"Do you know who might have actually had the gold?"

"Well, actually, last week sometime, I had some lady come around here with a gold coin she found. She swore it gave her good luck, and I'll be damned if she didn't win at least five grand." Mulder's expression changed to a kind of excitement as he felt the case beginning to unfold.

"Do you remember her name?"

"Hmmm. It started with "T". Terry? no, Tammy. it was Tammy. I don't think I caught her last name, though. She was staying at the Shamrock."

"Mr. Fred," Scully asked, "would you mind if I took a look at your arm?"

"Not at all." Al said, pulling up the bandage. Scully grimaced at the ugly wound. It was an obvious bite-mark, swollen with an almost greenish liquid oozing around it.

"I suggest you go to your doctor, that's a pretty bad infection." Scully said. Al nodded.

"Funny thing is," he said, "it doesn't really hurt. And get this, I know it sounds crazy, but ever since that little freak bit me, I've been craving potatoes."  

The silent, dark building looked dead. There was a certain feel to the place, and it wasn't good.

"The police have already searched the casino and Fazio's stage, but I thought we might take a look around just in case they didn't know what to look for." Mulder explained as he led Scully around back.

"And what would they have missed?"

"Whatever really is at the end of the rainbow."

They entered through the back stage entrance, the one the murderer had to have entered and exited through without being noticed by the casino patrons. Mulder fished the keys to the condemned building out of his pants pocket. He had picked them up earlier from the Vegas police. As he was trying different keys, he noticed a faded, torn poster taped to the wall.

"Topless girls of Glitter Gulch?" Scully asked. Mulder replied with a slight smile.

"I hear they're more entertaining than Sigfried and Roy," he said, pulling the heavy door open. Scully followed him into the dark, poorly decorated hallway, and into the third door on the left, Fazio's dressing room. Mulder flipped on the light. From ceiling to floor, Fazio's dressing room was filled with various magical items. Mulder eagerly dove in, immediately sifting through a box of trick cards and top hats. Scully looked around Fazio's closet. It was filled with elaborate costumes. On the floor lay a sparkling blue cape and a pair of white gloves. From under one glove, something shiny caught her eye. As she got closer, she realized it was a large gold coin, unlike any she'd seen before. Without hesitation, she bent over and retrieved it. The coin was heavy, polished and new, decorated with writing alien to her. As if it were a mere penny, she put the coin away in her pocket and forgot it. She found that the past few minutes escaped her. It must be the heat, she reasoned, and continued looking, not the slightest bit aware of the magic coin.  


5:44 p.m.

The Lucky Shamrock search turned up nothing. Mulder flipped the keys to the Taurus to Scully. They ate at Denny's and then headed to their hotel, the Excalibur. An Elvis impersonator convention was in town, and so two rooms at the medieval hotel and casino were the only ones left. The Excalibur was a large white castle with colorful towers, decorated inside with medieval items such as swords and dragons. Scully found the place a little tacky, but fun, and Mulder didn't seem to mind. Just outside the doors, they discussed plans for the rest of the night. They could not get an interview of any witnesses until the following day, so they had the night free.

"I'm going back downtown to see if I can find any of the Lucky Shamrock's former patrons," said Mulder, "Would you like to come?"

"No thanks," said Scully, "I'm going back to my room to work on the report."

"Are you sure, Scully? As long as we're here, we should take advantage."

"You go ahead, have fun," she said, "but not too much." Mulder nodded, and then Scully gave him the keys to the rental car and watched him walk away.

Her hand fell down to her side, to her hip pocket where the coin lay. She didn't notice it's heaviness or it's unnatural coldness. She headed inside. The clamor and lights of the casino made her uneasy. Scully headed for her room, walking briskly through the rows of slot machines. At the end of the last row sat a machine similar to the one Mulder had won two dollars at earlier. Scully looked at it and suddenly felt like putting a quarter in. She sat down and fished a shiny quarter out of her right pocket, the one without the gold coin. She slipped the quarter into the slot and pulled the handle down.   The wheels spun. One rainbow, two rainbows, three rainbows. On the first pull.

  The machine came to life, a siren, and multicolored flashing lights alerted the whole casino to the fact that Scully had just won herself 1500 dollars. She sat in awe, staring at the three rainbows. She felt as if she were trapped under a thick fog and she could no longer trust any of her senses. A casino attendant came and congratulated her, shut off the chaotic yell of the slot machine, and gave her fifteen one-hundred-dollar chips. Through the fog, people congratulated her, and she responded with nods and a fake smile. Unwittingly, she reached to her pocket for another quarter. The fog lifted. A shudder ripped down Scully's back and she stood, battling dizziness for a few seconds. Suddenly, her senses came back to her and she felt extremely out of place. She counted the chips in her hand. Fifteen hundred dollars. Now she didn't even remember winning it, but she *knew* it had happened. She sat back down and went over the past few minutes in her mind. In great detail, she remembered watching Mulder leave, then turning toward the casino, entering, walking down the isles of slots. She remembered seeing the end of the casino near, she was almost past it all and then, the next thing she knew, she held fifteen hundred dollars in her hand. *Why can't I remember? I know it happened,* thought Scully. Maybe it was the dry desert heat.

Whatever it was, Scully needed to get to her room, take a shower, and relax.

She wasted no time getting over to the cashier and trading her chips for a $1200 cashier's check and $300 in cash. As she hurried to her room, she just couldn't shake the feeling of lost time. It was the same feeling of powerlessness she had when she discovered the implant in her neck. She couldn't think about it. Even thinking about what had happened in her past was too close to accepting the impossible. She told herself she could handle it, and to just forget about it. As soon as she was able to relax, she was sure she would remember winning the money. Scully entered her room, turned on the lights and shut and locked the door. It seemed very large and hollow, so to chase away the silence, she turned on the TV. The first show she tried was "Lois and Clark: The new Adventures of Superman," but she found it to be weak in plot, and the Lois character was quite annoying. Although the lead actor was, in her opinion, quite attractive, one thing outweighed the other and Scully found a football game to watch instead.

Scully, momentarily engrossed in the football game, forgot her concerns. An hour passed before she remembered she had been about to take a shower. As she stood, there was a knock at the door. She wondered what Mulder had learned downtown, and hoped it wasn't anything to do with little killer Irish fairies. Scully opened the door, and gasped. At the door stood a certain little killer Irish fairy. He pushed his way in. Scully drew her gun.

"Don't move," she ordered.

"Pardon me," the creature hissed. His face was twisted and wrinkled, with green eyes that seemed to almost glow with a cold, inner light. "Have you seen me gold?"

"Put your hands above your head," Scully began, ready to arrest their suspect. The case had gone from hopeless to solved. Scully kept her gun aimed at the sick, short man. When she looked, she had no gun, but a limp, dead snake in her hands. She dropped it to the floor, and the leprechaun advanced.

"Now," he growled, "where's me gold?" Scully backed away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I smell me gold. It's here," the green-clad man yelled. The door was open behind him. Scully didn't know whether to make a run for it or not. She couldn't even be sure she wasn't trapped in some strange dream.

"Why did you kill Don Stevens?" Scully asked.

"He had me gold, now it's here, and I want it back, me little dear." The leprechaun reached out for Scully's gun which was no longer a snake. She froze, unsure of what her next move should be. The door was still open, maybe someone would come by and see what was going on. Her luck was just incredible.

"Well if it isn't Rumplestiltskin."

He stood in the doorway with his weapon ready. The leprechaun whirled around. He smiled, revealing two rows of razor-sharp, yellow teeth.

"There were two FBI agents from DC
Who took me gold coin from me
To get ye off my back
And keep you off track

I'll cast a spell of love on thee," the little man crowed. Scully wasn't buying it. She went for her gun. The little man clapped, and she fell to the floor. The leprechaun's evil magic covered her in a fog of confusion. A warm, pleasant feeling came over her. She looked at Mulder and sighed. Like a tidal wave, a powerful, pulsating current of love washed over the both of them, knocking reason away. Mulder holstered his gun and walked over to Scully, slowly. The passion that engulfed him was indescribable. He helped her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. She looked into his sad eyes and saw something new and very powerful. He leaned closer, his hot breath brushing against her flushed cheek. Emotion tightened around them, binding them together, and they fell into a kiss. The leprechaun watched and cackled with pleasure. Hardly any of his magic powers had to be wasted; they only had to build on feelings that already existed. At once, he began tearing through the contents of the small room, searching for his coin, ignoring the couple as they sauntered out the door.  


Alongside the busy cars and flashy lights, in the crowd, but alone in eachother's eyes, Dana and Fox ran down the sidewalk. Their hands locked together, they dodged the evening pedestrian traffic. After about three blocks, Mulder stopped and turned to Scully.

"Dana," he panted, out of breath from the run and the lengthy hotel kiss.

"Mulder, I've never felt like this before."

"I know," he whispered. The leprechaun's spell had left them both oblivious to anything but eachother. Although this was strong and undeniable, reason and their true feelings tried to poke through, like the sun behind a patch of stubborn clouds. This barrage of conflicting emotions left them both confused at their own actions, but happy as well. The result was a mixture of truth and intoxicated hallucination that flowed out in word and deed. "I feel, Scully," Mulder said quietly, close to her, "we are perfect partners. I have never had as much trust, respect and admiration for anyone as I have for you. I love you." She was about to return his sentiments with ones quite similar, but before she could, he turned her to face the building he'd stopped in front of. The large, flowery sign explained:  

TRUE LOVE WEDDING CHAPEL

Share Your Special Day With Us!

Make Your Wedding Day Unforgettable

Be Serenaded Down The Aisle By Elvis ($19.95 extra)  

Scully stood back and stared speechlessly at the sign. Her dreams seemed to be coming true right in front of her, and she let Mulder lead her into the small chapel.

"Can I help you?" A man dressed in a spiffy black tux asked as they approached the reception desk. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but we'd like one as soon as possible," Mulder said.

"Our next open time is at midnight tonight-"

"But we have to get married *now*." Mulder insisted, shocked by his own urgency.

"I'm sorry, but we appear to be booked solid for the time being. I'm not sure to what extent I can juggle the schedule around here. . ." Without hesitation, Scully whipped out her three-hundred-dollars in cash and slapped it on top of the man's appointment book.

"Oh, I'm sure you can figure something out," she suggested, raising one eyebrow quite suggestively. Mulder shivered with excitement.

"I see," the man said, grinning, "You said *now*. I thought you said something else. How silly of me. Fill this out, please." The man handed them a marriage license application, and they filled it out together. "Come right this way, folks." Mulder and Scully were led through a shop with everything from flowers, to tuxes, to the ring. "If you see anything you want, just holler," the chapel employee said as he led them along. Scully looked over all that was there and knew she needed noting. Mulder was all she wanted. Something did catch her eye, however. The last tux on display before they hit the actual chapel was a God-awful cream-colored thing with a kind of floral design stamped into the material. Scully just had to stick her tongue out at it; it looked as if it were made from someone's old couch or curtains, yet strangely, she could see Mulder wearing it.  

The chapel itself was decorated with very fake flowers and giant wacky paper bells. That didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the feelings that the spell had created.

  It turned out the receptionist was also a judge.

"You folks ready? I assume you have the ring?"

"Ring? It slipped my mind," said Mulder. That just wasn't important.

"We don't need one," Scully reassured him, as they stood before the altar side by side. She moved closer and placed her hand lovingly on his firm buttocks.

"Shall we begin then? Good. Do you." The man pointed at Mulder while flashing his wide, pearly TV-evangelist style grin.

"Mulder,"

"Do you, Mulder take-"

"Dana"

"Do you, Mulder take Dana to be your wife to have and to hold... yadda yadda yadda, so help you God?"

"I do," Mulder purred, never for a second taking his eyes off Scully.

"And do you, Dana, take Mulder to be your husband?"

"I do," she answered softly, hardly listening to the question. She was too busy squeezing Mulder's ass.

"By the powers granted to me you're now stuck with eachother. Here's a coupon for five dollars worth of chips at Caesar's Palace. You may now kiss, but hurry up, this chapel's reserved for six." Curtly, the man turned around and scurried back the way they'd come.

Mulder nor Scully saw the man leave. Their energies were all focused one thing. Feelings more intense than any of the videos Mulder'd ever seen pulled them together so hard, they nearly melted into one. Scully was sure they would have ended up on the floor if the next couple hadn't stood behind them, very blatantly clearing their throats.

"Sorry," Mulder said with great difficulty. Lately breath seemed to be a very elusive thing. He turned back to Scully and panted, "let's consummate this thing."   Scully thought she was going to explode. Mulder wasn't sure he hadn't already.  

Scully reached back into her pocket nervously. Her fingers played upon a cold round object. I do?" Scully asked, the spell broken. Mulder looked around, confused.

"Are you going to keep the name Scully, or are we now Mrs. and Mr. Mulder?" He asked playfully.

"Mulder, look at this," Scully opened her hand, revealing the shiny, round gold coin. "I have no idea where I got this." Mulder took the coin from her fingers and examined it carefully. He handed it back to her. For a moment, he stood staring straight ahead at something that wasn't there. Scully couldn't tell if he was recovering from the hazy feelings left by the spell, or actually thinking about something.

"He must still be in the hotel room," Mulder said and took off, running back down the aisle. At a loss for words or rational thoughts, Scully followed.  

On the sidewalk just outside the Excalibur, Mulder came to a sudden halt. He looked around frantically, searching for a patch of grass among the topiary.

"Mulder," Scully asked as she caught up to her partner, "What are you doing?"

"Scully, do you see any grass?" he asked, circling a large bush carved into the shape of a colossal dragon.

"Grass?"

"Clover, really," Scully laughed, but he didn't hear. He was too busy climbing into the decorative sculptures.

"Mulder, we have no time for this." Now this was getting strange, even for Mulder. First, she lost control of her mind enough to **

wait, she thought. What exactly just happened? An uncomfortable feeling washed over her, tightening in her throat. She had kissed him... and actually enjoyed it. That was hard to acknowledge. Her relationship with Mulder had been purely platonic. She had never had stronger feelings for a man in her life, but those feelings had remained in friendship and nothing else. She wanted it to stay that way. Like so many other things hard for her to think about, she pushed what had happened to the back of her mind, replacing them with focus on the case at hand. Now, she looked to Mulder, who had apparently lost his mind.

"Scully," Mulder called from beside the dragon. He sat on his hands and knees, sifting through a sparse patch of green.

"What are you doing?"

"We need a four-leafed clover,"

"Mulder, the odds of finding one in the little time we don't even have are overwhelming," She looked down to the thin patch of green, "I don't even see any clover."

"I'm not sure if clover even grows out here in the desert. You're the science expert, Scully, what do you say?"

"Mulder, I don't know. I do know that our perpetrator's gonna be on the next plane to Ireland before we get to him if you don't come with me *now.*"

"We *need* a four-leafed clover. It's the *only* way to kill a leprechaun."

"Are you sure it's the only way? Maybe it will be as effective if we get some silver bullets or something. . ." Mulder paused in his search and looked up at her, grinning widely.

"I found one," He stood and swiped absently at the dirt covering his pants. He held out the fragile green plant triumphantly.

"What do you plan to do with that?"

"All I have to do is touch it to his skin, and he'll die." Mulder began jogging towards the hotel.

"Mulder," Scully called, struggling to keep up with her partner's lope. *Men just don't realize how damn hard it is to run in heels,* she thought bitterly, as he slowed down to a walk, to allow her to catch up. "Wait a minute here. First of all, we don't have any proof that our perp is even an authentic leprechaun. And if he is- if what you're saying is right- we have no right to just kill him. Even leprechauns are entitled to a fair trial. . ." she let her voice trail off, overwhelmed by how ridiculous she sounded.

"Scully- I mean- Mrs. Mulder, just trust me on this one. You can't jail a leprechaun. You've already seen what his magic can do,"

"And what if he decides to cast another "spell" on us?"

"We won't give him enough time. Just don't lose the coin- as long as you're holding the coin, he can't hurt you."  

Mulder drew his gun for dramatics, if nothing else, and held the clover hidden between the cold metal and his palm. He crept along the wall, towards Scully's room. The door was still open, and he could hear glass breaking. Good, he was still searching. Mulder quietly stepped into the room to find the little Irish fairy rummaging through Scully's suitcase, tossing clothes all around. Mulder turned his head for a second, to find Scully next to him, her face a mask of disgust as she watched the leprechaun ravage her belongings. Mulder turned back and stepped forward, opened his mouth to tell the little man to stop, when an airborne bra landed on his head. A little cry of surprise escaped his lips, and the leprechaun wheeled around.

"Aah, 'tis me friends," the green-clad monster crowed, walking up to the quite embarrassed Mulder. Scully whipped the bra off his head before he could do anything about it.

"Stop, FBI. Put your hands up. . ." Mulder ordered. The little fairy just smiled.

"Look at yer shoes. They're all dirty, let me shine them up, I'm a shoemaker, ye know," he said, puling a cloth from his coat pocket. Mulder looked down at the little green man and shifted his hand on the gun, feeling for the clover. A little closer, and it would all be over. The leprechaun stopped dead in his path to shine Mulder's shoes and looked up. "I want me gold!" He growled, sending his fist into Mulder's groin. Scully gasped as Mulder's inhuman screech filled the room. He slowly fell to the floor, consumed by pain. The little leprechaun laughed wickedly and kicked him in the head.

"You little bastard," Scully growled, falling to the floor at Mulder's side. She put one hand on her partner's back, but could not do anything for him; the leprechaun was coming towards her.

"I'm sorry I had to hurt your friend,

But you seem not to quite understand

Even though you've been told

That I want me gold

You continue to hold it there, in your hand," he hissed, walking up until he was only slight inches away. He had noticed the coin as she fell to Mulder's groaning side. The leprechaun looked her in the eye, and she shuddered. His breath was really bad.

"Alright, I'll give you your gold," she said, voice shaking.

"No-" grunted Mulder.

"Yes," the leprechaun sneered.

"Here!" Scully yelled, jamming her hand forward, into the leprechaun's face. She opened her fingers, and the four-leafed clover found the little Irish man's nose. He screamed, and stepped backwards. Scully sighed. She was glad Mulder was able to slip her the clover without the little bastard noticing.

"Melting! I'm melting," he gasped, as indeed he was. His features first became muddied, and wet-looking, and soon started to drip away. Scully didn't watch, she didn't care if Mr. Lucky Charms was turning into a puddle right there in her hotel room, she had to make sure Mulder and his manhood were going to live.   Epilogue:

October 22, 11:48 P.M.  

Scully looked over at him, sitting at the machine next to hers, staring intently at it. He wasn't playing, just staring, and she was afraid the leprechaun had hurt him worse than he'd admitted.

"Are you okay, Mulder?"

"What? Yeah, I was just thinking," he turned to her.

"Mulder, don't worry, the paramedics said you'd be as good as new in no time,"

"Not that." Mulder grinned.

"I'm *not* staying your wife,"

"Not that either, although it might be an idea." Scully shook her head.

"Mulder. . ."

"We forgot to use our three wishes." Mulder shrugged and turned back to the slot machine and threw in a quarter. He lost. Again.  

The End.

 

The preceding is dedicated to Lindsay and Michele (who wouldn't really go skinny-dipping with Jeff- well she probably wouldn't)


 

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