Author's notes at end.

No betas were harmed in the making of this story; this one's al-l-l-l on me.

For Silke, who started this whole thing with one innocent recommendation.

Thanks!

.

Gullible
Rated PG
By Suzanne L. Feld

"Scully! What the hell?"

She paused in the dining room and then turned to look at me. I was standing in the living room gazing at her Christmas tree with disbelief. "What, Mulder? What's wrong?"

I reached out and snagged the bright neon-green ball from a branch of her cheerfully dressed Christmas tree about eye-level for me. Holding it up with the thin metal hanger hooked over one finger so that she could see it, I said, "I couldn't find this when I left my house, I thought maybe it'd fallen off my desk and rolled under the couch or something. What's the big idea, Indian giver?"

"That is an offensive racial slur," she said in an offhand voice as she came over to me and took the Christmas ornament in one hand. Painstakingly hand-painted on one side of the lurid green ball was a triangular grey alien face with huge black eyes and a tiny square mouth, a perfect Reticulan. She told me that she had spotted it at a craft fair at her mom's church back in June and bought it for me then. We'd exchanged gifts yesterday and I glanced over to see the original one-volume 1888 copy of Little Women that I'd gotten her sitting beneath the tree. "How did that get there?"

Scully doesn't lie well; I've know this about her for years. Usually I can pick up on her lies and this didn't seem to be one; she really didn't seem to know what was going on. "You didn't snitch it from my apartment?"

She stared at me for a moment before handing it back. "Why would I do that?"

I shrugged, setting the ornament in a small clear glass dish of red and green M&Ms on the coffee table so it wouldn't roll off and I wouldn't forget to take it home. It was one of the best Christmas presents Scully had given me and I honestly treasured it even if I didn't have a tree to put it on. Still, it would be Exhibit A on my desk from now on. "To yank my chain?" I guessed as I walked over to the table. "How else did it get here?"

She looked at me with narrowed eyes, now standing at the counter wearing oven mitts. "You could have brought it over and set me up."

I raised my brows; I hadn't thought of that. "Wish I had thought of it."

Shaking her head, she turned back to the oven.

"Need any help in there?" I asked, but kept my distance. I had been well-trained in holiday dinner etiquette: stay the hell out of the way unless requested. Women in kitchens at this time of the year terrified me more than a Fluke-man crossed with a Jersey devil and rolled in Heuvelman's Lake slime.

"Nope, I'm fine. You can carve the turkey once it rests for a few minutes, and it's easier for me to just put the dishes on the table from here."

"Want me to open the wine?"

She flashed me a smile, dimples peeking out, which I saw all-too-rarely. "There you go. You know where everything is."

I had brought a good bottle of sauvignon blanc and now wrestled the cork out, wishing she'd get a corkscrew with a longer handle. By the time I'd gotten glasses down and poured, she had most of the food on the table. "Wow, Scully, you didn't have to go to all this trouble."

She shrugged, lifting her blue and yellow flowered apron over her head. "Since I couldn't make it to San Diego with the rest of the family I didn't want to go without Christmas dinner, Mulder. I think you and I will do this spread justice."

"I can guarantee you I will!" I assured her, taking the carving knife she held out handle-first to me. "If you don't want most of this food gone by the time I leave, you'd better tell me now."

Holding the platter for the slices I was carving off the medium-sized turkey she'd bought, Scully grinned up at me. "That's why I invited you, Mulder."

This was more like it, I thought as I returned her grin then turned back to the bird. We were still recovering from the John Lee Roche case and the strain it had put on our friendship, so this was just what we needed. We'd gotten held in D.C due to the investigation behind Roche's shooting and though I hadn't thought she needed to, Scully had stayed by my side. We'd already had it out several times so I didn't bring it up again, though I did wish she had been able to go spend time with her family.

We sat down at the table and I waited respectfully while she said a silent grace, then we set to. She had made a scaled-down traditional dinner: turkey and bread stuffing, real mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, crescent rolls, olives, sweet and dill pickles, with a homemade apple pie for dessert since I didn't care for pumpkin and she didn't like mincemeat.

"Scully, that was as good or better than anything I've had at a holiday dinner," I told her honestly some time later, pouring the last of the wine into our glasses as she mopped up gravy on her plate with a scrap of roll. "If I said it was better than my mom's she might find out and shoot me so I don't dare, but it was a wonderful meal. Thank you."

She colored slightly with pleasure and returned my toast. "You're welcome, Mulder. Want to sit and digest and perhaps watch a little TV before dessert?"

"Yeah, I couldn't eat another bite right now," I agreed, rising with my glass in my hand. I followed her over to the couch, and then stopped in my tracks so suddenly that I nearly sloshed wine over the side of the tall tulip glass. "Where's the ornament?" I blurted, surprised, staring at the candy dish where I'd put it earlier.

"Right where you put it," she said, pointing at the tree.

"I didn't put it there, Scully. I set it in the candy dish," I said, sitting next to her and pointing at the innocent item.

"Why'd you put it in the candy dish? You don't know where it's been!"

"So I wouldn't forget it. You know I always grab a handful of M&Ms before I leave when you have them out," I explained. "So how did it get on the tree?"

We sat on her couch a few inches apart, staring at the tree. "You didn't put it there, Mulder?"

"I wouldn't say I hadn't if I had," I said, turning to her. "You believe me, don't you?"

"This does seem a little elaborate and pointless for a practical joke," she admitted. "But what the hell, Mulder? Do you really think that damn thing is moving itself around?"

I shrugged, looking over at her. "I believe damn near anything, you know that. What do you think?"

"I'm beginning to wonder if you're putting me on, but let's forget about it and sit back and relax for a bit."

We both leaned back holding our wineglasses. She had the fire burning and I watched it idly, kind of wishing I had a fireplace in my apartment. I sighed with contentment, for once in my life perfectly happy to be where I was with no thoughts or worries about what I might be missing.

I looked away from the fire and there was the neon green alien head ornament in the candy dish where I had originally put it.

"Okay, what the hell?!" I all but yelled, jumping to my feet and this time sloshing wine down the front of my dark grey Rangers t-shirt. "I know damn well that thing was—"

Scully was bent over laughing, her wineglass on the end table as her hands were occupied with cupping her sides, arm wrapped around her slender waist. "Oh my God, Mulder, I had you bigtime!" she howled, rolling back on the couch and laughing so hard that her face was turning red and tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I can't—can't believe you fell for that—oh, ha ha ha—"

At first I was offended, then I saw the humor in it and couldn't resist laughing along with her. I sat down next to her, placing my glass on the coffee table, and slung an arm around her shoulders to pull her against me in a friendly hug. "All right, Scully, you win this time, but—"

Our eyes caught and held, smiles fading simultaneously. She was gazing up at me with lips parted, and it was all I could do not to lean down and kiss them. But this wasn't just any woman, this was my partner and my best friend and I would do nothing to jeopardize that. Instead I let go of her as she wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt and reached for my wineglass, raising it to her. "To Dana Scully, the most devious and delightful partner a G-man could have."

She smiled back, apparently also relieved that the unexpectedly solemn, charged moment had passed. "To my partner Fox Mulder, the smartest man I know who is sometimes gullible but never, ever boring." We tapped glasses and drank, still grinning at each other.

"I'll second that emotion."

"You about ready for that apple pie?"

"In a minute." I picked up the ornament as she turned away and went over to hang it on her tree, folding the tiny metal hook tightly around the prickly branch before walking away. Despite her little joke, this was still one of the most enjoyable and relaxing evenings I'd had in a long time.

At least until she tried to move that ornament again…

finis

The neon-green alien head ornament is not a figment of my imagination; it was a present from my friend Silke who saw it at a year-round Christmas store and couldn't resist getting it for me. It's got a double meaning because although I love The X-Files, I'm an atheist/skeptic and don't believe in aliens or anything else I can't see/feel/touch. (All of my friends call me Scully. All of them.) This little bug-eyed grey face on my desk right below my monitor reminds me that despite my beliefs, there may be more things in heaven and earth than we know.

Or maybe it's just amusing.