The X-Files: The X-mas Story
(Spoiler: "How the Ghosts Stole Christmas")
By Damandabear 2
I knock at Mulder's door, hearing the TV shut off just before the door opens. Mulder looks at me questioningly. "I, uh, I couldn't sleep," I say. "I was… Can I come in?"
"Yeah." He gently grabs my shoulder and guides me into his apartment. "Aren't you supposed to be opening Christmas gifts with your family?" he asks in a mixture of genuine confusion and mockery.
Dismissing the question, I ask him my own. One that has been bothering me all night. "Mulder…none of that really happened out there tonight…that was all in our heads, right?"
His eyes are wide in thought. "It must have been."
The moment turns a little more casual, and I feel the need to get close to him, but I resist. Instead, I say, "Not that my only joy in life is proving you wrong."
"When have you proved me wrong," he asks, bringing an instant blush to my cheeks.
I stare at him confused. "Well, why else would you want me out there with you?" I ask.
"You don't want to be there?" Somehow, he has turned this back to me, but I am left momentarily without words. "Oh, that's, um, that's self-righteous and narcissistic of me to say, isn't it?" he asks, feeling a little guilty for putting me on the spot.
"No," I assure him. After all, it's not his fault I realize. "I mean…maybe I did want to be out there with you." I think I half smile…I'm not sure. But I notice he is smiling back. His smile, perhaps a tad bit mischievous, makes me suspicious of what he is about to say. He quickly runs his eyes up and down me, not necessarily checking me out, but more trying to move the conversation along.
"No, um," he begins, walking to his shelf behind me. He grabs what appears to be a paper towel tube rolled in Christmas paper with ribbon tied on the ends and holds it up in front of me. "I know we said we weren't going to exchange gifts, but, uh…I gotcha a little somethin'." I think I am about to start laughing at the goofy grin on his face, but my attention is taken by the mysterious gift as I accept it in my grateful hands.
"Mulder," I groan, my tone insisting he didn't have to get me anything.
"Merry Christmas," he says, still grinning foolishly.
I roll my eyes, a little smitten by the surprise and even more so by the look he is giving me. What on Earth could he have gotten me that would fit in this? I wonder, getting excited to share a little secret of my own. "Well, I got you a little somethin', too," I smile. I am probably mirroring the same goofy grin as I slip out a small, wrapped package that I have been hiding in my coat. He chuckles and shakes the box. We exchange childish grins and scamper off to the couch. Even as we sit down, he is still shaking his box. End of episode.
I start to untie the ribbon on one end of my gift but stop and find myself waiting for his reaction to the gift I had picked out special for him. For promising each other we wouldn't exchange, I must admit to going a little overboard with my gift…maybe too overboard. As he opens the box, which shows no signs of wrapping paper anywhere on it, thanks to his care in un-taping and untying, I watch his face. Mulder looks down at a brand new Rolex watch with shock displayed on his face. Thank goodness, it's the good kind. He quietly chuckles and brings the band to his teeth pretending to bite it.
I playfully elbow his arm. "It better be real," I joke in response to his. Then he eyeballs my gift.
"You gonna open that or what?" he inquires, nodding toward the tube.
"Yeah, I am," I assure, trying to keep him patient with my tone. "I just wanted to see your face." I finish untying the ribbon and open the paper on that end. He blushes slightly as I tilt the tubing and a long velvet box slides into my hand. Before even opening it, I give him a glance of my wide surprised eyes. "What's this?" I ask rhetorically, more out of reflex than expecting anything in reply. However, he does.
"You gotta open it to find out," he urges teasingly. I do, and I gasp at the sight of a bracelet speckled with diamonds. Real ones. A lot of real ones. "Interesting that we both got each other jewelry, huh? And wrist jewelry on top of that…" he muses aloud. When I still don't say anything, he grows nervous. "Do you like it?" His face shows concern that he may have gone a little too overboard as well.
I place the bracelet back in the box and gently lie the box on his coffee table. "I do," I whisper and pull him into a warm embrace. "Thank you so much." He lightly kisses the side of my head, never leaving the hug. For reasons I know, but still refuse to accept, I feel butterflies swirl around in my stomach. I am just starting to get comfortable in his arms when my cell phone rings. "Oh, sorry," I say, not really feeling as sorry for him as I do myself. I hold the phone up to my ear and speak into it. "Hello?" The voice echoes loudly in his apartment, and I know Mulder can hear every word. "Mom?"
"Dana, where are you? I tried calling your apartment when you didn't get here at your normal time, but there was no answer. Are you okay?"
"MomMom, slow down. I'm fine. I'm at Mulder's," I say, not even thinking.
Her response is laced with an embarrassed tone. It's almost as though she suddenly thinks she may have interrupted something. "At four in the morning?"
Again, I have to elbow Mulder, who is threatening to laugh and tickle me in hopes of making it sound like she had interrupted something. That would not make this late night early morning (even worse)meeting any easier to explain to my already suspicious mother, who is no doubt trying to decide how to excuse my tardiness to Bill. "You know what, Mom? I'll be there as soon as I can." I glance at my partner and notice he has suddenly become quiet…almost depressed that the fun is over. "Hold on," I say into the phone and then cover it with my hand. "Do you have any plans today?" I ask Mulder. A hopeful glint in his eyes settles it as he shakes his head. "What about your mother?"
"She has…other…plans," he states softly, but immaturely. His pouty tone suggests it's a long story that I will be listening to later…in the car most likely. Good. It'll take my mind off my family.
I smile and return to the phone. "Mom, would it be okay if Mulder joins us?"
"Of course, dear. Just drive carefully."
Mulder snatches the phone away and says into it, "Thank you, Mrs. Scully, and don't you worry. I'll get Dana there safe and sound." From here, I can hear her thank him and hang up. "Well," he sighs.
"Well…" We look at each other and grin. "Let's go!" I stand up and drag him up with me.
Just as I had predicted, I am entertained by his story the entire drive to my mother's house. We are pulling into the driveway when he finally finishes with, "…and that is how the Grinch stole Christmas, Scully…by whisking her off her feet and talking her into a Mele Kalikimaka Christmas."
I tried to stifle my giggle but failed horrifically, finally giving up and allowing a full laugh to fill the air. "I'm sorry, Mulder, but you have to admit it's kind of cute." He gives me a questioning look and waits for an explanation on why it's so cute that his mom ditched him to spend Christmas in Hawaii with someone he has never even met. "It's just really sweet that she isn't alone during the holidays," I giggle.
"Yeah, well…"
"Come on," I say and squeeze his arm. "Let's go inside and get drunk on spiked eggnog."
"Your mother spikes the eggnog?" he asks with a shocked expression on the verge of laughter.
"No…" I grin mischievously and continue, "Bill and I have been taking turns since I was fifteen. My mom doesn't know, and it's kind of an inside joke, so don't say anything." He lets out a tremendous laugh at my teenage-like immaturity, realizing how little he really knows about me. I can almost sense that this realization both intrigues him and depresses him, so I pat his hand and open my door. "Hey, mom," I call when we walk in the house. I know where they are but resist going straight to them. First, I turn to Mulder and whisper, "Remember you are my guest, and I want you here…no matter what my brother says. 'Kay?" He squeezes my hand, which I have forgotten is still in his from the walk to the door.
"Dana!" my mother announces, confirming my presence. "I'm so glad you could make it." She, then, turns to Mulder, addressing him with the same affection she would address a son-in-law…hint-hint. I roll my eyes at her less-than-subtle glare at me as she does so. "Fox. How have you been?"
"Good, Mrs. Scully. Thank you."
"Oh, please," she says insistently, "would you call me Maggie already?" giving him a warm smile.
"Maggie," he corrects himself.
Behind our mother, my brother, Bill, walks into the roomimmediately engulfing me in a hug. "Merry Christmas, Dana," he chimes, bringing instant joy and a sentimental ache to my heart. "I've missed you." I watch carefully as he notices Mulder a few feet away. Apparently Mom hasn't mentioned that he is joining us. Talk about awkward. "Mr. Mulder," he greets cautiously.
"Mr. Scully," Mulder greets back and accepts his hand in a hardy shake.
Everyone in the room is silent for about fifteen seconds before I realize they are all staring at me. "Oh!" I jump, startling them all, "Bill, can you get us each a glass of eggnog?" I ask with a wink. He tries to hide his smile as he nods and leaves for the kitchen. "Let's go see the tree," I say to Mulder, leading him into the living room. "My mom decorates it beautifully."
She has a fire lit, and its warmth is comforting. So much of this room takes me back to my childhood. The smells…the sounds of laughter…my family. It is times like this that I miss my sister and my father so much that it hurts. Lost in melancholy thought, I feel my body lean closer to Mulder against the couch. He senses my discomfort and pulls me close. Bill and Tara sit on the couch behind us, whispering, and it makes me feel a little self-conscious, so I sit up again. "What's wrong?" Mulder asks, pulling my shoulder back into his arm.
"Nothing…I'm fine." I see that my brother has been whispering about something else, so I relax back into his arms. "So, did everyone get the gifts of their dreams this year?" I coyly call out, wanting an excuse to show off my new bracelet. I look down and notice my partner wearing the watch I got him.
"Well," my mother begins, grabbing at her pile of treasures, "your brother and Tara bought me a beautiful new skillet with some wooden spoons, a spatula, and some spices: garlic powder, garlic granules, salt and pepper, onion powder, onion salt, oregano, sage, basil, and rosemary."
"Wow," I say impressed. I glance back at my brother and give him a congratulating grin.
"How about you, Dana?"
Ah, the million-dollar question. I fake a long, dramatic stretch, bringing my wrist into perfect view. "Oh, you know," I groan, a grin emerging on my lips as I see their reactions.
"Who got you that?" asks my brother, even though he already has an idea.
"Mulder," I gleam, looking back into my partner's eyes.
My mother scoots closer to get a better look. "Wow, Dana, that is gorgeous!" She looks at Mulder approvingly. "And what did you get for him?"
I grab his wrist and hold it up. I don't think he minds… Anyway, she notices the watch, but I can tell she is looking for something less expensive. Finally, she looks up at me. "This?" she asks, pointing out the watch. I nod. "That's lovely." I reach for my glass of eggnog and sip at it quietly.
For the next hour, we sit at the kitchen table having brunch, and talking about the past. Mulder is enjoying this more than I am because most of my mother's stories are about me. On one hand, it's nice to see him socializing with my family so well, and I have to admit that I am excited that he is learning so much about who I really am. It's especially nice that my mom is telling these stories and not me because many of these things I wouldn't be able to share in normal conversation. On the other hand, the stories bring back memories of happier days, and I feel the desire to dive into my eggnog grow more and more with every aching gulp. The conversation finally dies down to a gentle simmer and I feel more than ready to get going. I start to say something to my partner, but I can tell I am slightly slurring my words. "How many of those have you had," Mulder asks with a grin, thumbing my empty eggnog glass.
"Nooot too ma-ma-ny," I slur, my eyes locked in half closed positions. I may not be sure how many glasses I have had, but I know I've had more than anyone else…though I don't care for eggnog much. I don't really want to admit this, but I don't think it was particularly the eggnog that made me want more.
"I'd say you've had at least seven or eight," he teases.
What? There's no way I could have had that many. "No," I continue to slur, "four at most."
He trails his fingers in circles on my back. "No. I'm pretty sure you hit four almost an hour ago."
I blush as I look around the table and notice everyone looking at me again. What do they find so darn interesting about me? It's starting to bother me. A lot. "Mulder," I whisper, "what time is it?"
He chuckles as he looks at his new watch with an exaggerated, "Well, let's see…" I feel my head starting to pound and instantly regret having so much eggnog. "Eleven-thirty-seven," he chimes.
"What?" I ask through the pain pulsating in my head.
I hear him laugh at me as I close my eyes. "Well, if you can't even remember your question, then I think it's time to go home." I squint and peek at my family, who is mumbling among themselves.
"Okay." For a second, I worry that I might have drooled that out, but I know now that I hadn't as I run my fingers under my mouth. Dry. Thank God.
"What's the matter, Dana?" asks my oblivious mother. Bless her heart for never picking up on Bill's and my little secret tradition.
"Oh, she's fine, mom," I hear Bill say. I guess he wants her to stay oblivious. If I didn't feel like throwing up, I might laugh.
"Mulder," I whisperI mean to whisper, anyway"I think I'm going to be sick." I feel his arms help me into a standing position and practically carry me to the bathroom, although, I hope it looked like I was at least trying to walk.
In the bathroom, Mulder holds my hair back out of my face as I hurl relentlessly into the toilet. I am embarrassed beyond words, and I know he can sense it. Maybe for that reason, or maybe because it's simply the type of person he is, he grabs a wet towel to cool my face and wipe my mouth. Then, he pulls me back to sit between his extended legs on the floor, letting me rest against his chest. "Feeling better?"
I turn my head to give him a what-the-hell-do-you-think? Look and add a sarcastic, "Terrific."
He laughs, but not at me necessarily, and pulls me back again. "Why does it bother you so much to talk or hear about your past? It sounds fun…happy…full of little adventures. And you," he beams, "you are not the Dana Scully I thought you were!" I try to grin but realize that I can't. I feel too crappy to grin.
"I did have a good childhood," I concede, "but that's why I don't like to talk about it."
"I don't understand."
"I was so happy then."
"You aren't happy now?"
I give a light chuckle at the irony of him asking me this right after I watched my entire morning's worth of eggnog in reverse. He notices and chuckles too. "I don't know, Mulder. I guess I am, but it's different. My family is far away…my dad is gone…Missy is gone…I live alone…" I think he is getting the idea when I feel him squeeze me a little tighter. In any other circumstance, I would surely enjoy this urge of closeness, but given my weak stomach, I have no choice but to loosen his hold on me.
"You know what, Scully?" he murmurs into my hair. "It sounds to me like you need to spend more time with your family. So let's go out there and enjoy ourselves. Huh? What do you think?"
I know he's right. Boy, do I hate it when he's right. Just once would I like to…oh well. I think I'm reading too much into things again. Figures. "Okay," I finally give in. Suddenly I hear Julie Andrews tell Dick Van Dyke, "If I must, I must." Oh, wait…that is my voice…never mind, I think as he helps me up to my feet. I can already tell tomorrow will be a stay-in-bed day.
We walk back into the kitchen where my mom is noticeably concerned. "Are you okay, Dana?"
"Yeah, Mom," I answer, looking at Bill. "I probably just caught a bug yesterday at the mall."
"Well, you get some rest then," she insists.
"I will, Mom. But I would like to stay a bit longer…if it's alright."
I swear to you, her eyes double in size as she gives me a hug and says, "Of course, dear."
The rest of the day goes by seamlessly. We actually roast chestnuts on the open fire and listen to Christmas songs that the radio provides. I have a wonderful time visiting with Bill and Tara and even their kids who have finally come downstairs to join us. I'm surprised to learn they remember Mulder from last Christmas, despite how brief their meeting had been. I blush and laugh as Bill stands and invites Tara to dance with him for "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," and I try to smooth the goose bumps on my arms as the eerie version of the song takes me back to Mulder's car before the haunted house incident. Oh my gosh, I grin as I muse the events of the previous night. What the hell was that all about, anyway? I recollect the things that Elida had said about the lover's pact and how the two ghosts had gone on to make me think Mulder had shot me. I knew he couldn't, but it had seemed so real. It still feels real. Then, he had thought I shot him. I laugh at the thought. If I were emotionally (and legally) able to shoot him, I would have done it years ago. Oh, actually, I did once, didn't I? Ha-ha! Well, that was for his own good, and he forgave me for that one. The song ends and I realize Mulder is inviting me to dance now. "No," I decline, feeling a bit embarrassed when I feel my face flush at the gesture. His shoulders slump, and his eyes sadden. I certainly don't mean to offend him…it's just that I don't want everyone staring at me again. "Oh, fine," I smirk, rolling my eyes. He obligingly lifts me to my feet by my hand and pulls me close. I guess I had taken too long to make up my mind, or it was a short song, because it is already over, and a new song is beginning. Perfect, I think sarcastically as I realize what song it is.
"I
don't want a lot for Christmas
There's just one thing I
need…"
Oh, crap!
"And I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree…"
Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!
"I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know…"
What? I am definitely flushed now, as he pulls me into him even closer and looks into my eyes.
"Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you!"
Oh, wow! He has beautiful eyes! I am finally starting to relax in his arms and feel the desire to continue dancing slowly the way we had been for the song thus far, when I hear the beat hasten. What gives? I was just beginning to like this! The song continues, and I practically stumble over my feet as he quickens the pace of our dancing in accordance with the song. Lucky for me, no one noticed because my nephews had gotten up to join us on the "dance floor." Whew! By the time the song ends, I am thoroughly tired and ready to leave.
"Look, Auntie Dana!" cries out my oldest nephew in his young, naïve voice. "You and Misser Moder are under the mistletoe!" I quickly look at my mother, who is innocently looking aimlessly around the room. Smooth, I think as I grunt a sarcastic laugh. Sure enough, I look up to find mistletoe above us. How cliché is that?
I look to Mulder, who is moving his head around to catch my attention. "What?" I ask, even though I already know what he wants.
"Has the rule about mistletoe changed in the last twenty-five years?" he grins.
I feel my lips quiver as I try to answer but find I am too afraid. "No," my mother interrupts. Thanks, Mom. He slowly dips his head down, and I close my eyes, hesitant to feel his landing. Suddenly, without warning, I feel his lips plunge into mine, and I try my best to refrain from breaking away too quickly. It is a sweet, simple kiss, but the look on my face suggests it is more. I rub my cheeks as if it would wipe away the new redness that covers them. They are hot to the touch. I look around, slightly bewildered, at the sight of my family turning away to continue their conversations as though nothing had happened. But something did happen. I look up at Mulder again, who is very aware that I feel I enjoyed the brief, chaste kiss more than I think I should have. He smiles, and I know he his chuckling at me, but I ignore him. He turns to give my mother, Tara, and my nephews hugs and my brother another hardy shake. He opens the door for me, but I request a minute before I follow him out to the car. "Mom?" I whisper when the door closes behind him.
"He's waiting, Dana," she hurries me along, biting her lip to hide her guilty grin.
"Mom, wait."
"What is it, sweetie?"
I look at Bill and Tara, and they quietly walk to the other room. "What was that?" I ask.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," she lies. I can tell she is toying with me.
"He is my partner. I can't do that!"
"And you think I had something to do with it?" She is really good…but not good enough.
"Mom," I smile, knowing for once I have caught her in a lie, "this mistletoe wasn't here ten minutes ago." Her face changes from mock oblivion to a mischievous grin.
"He's a nice guy, and he thinks the world of you. Honestly, now…do you think there will ever be anyone out there better for you than him?" I know the answer, and it saddens me to understand that, as partners, I would never be allowed to have a true relationship with the one man I want to be with more than anyone else in the world. No. I can't think about him like that. It will only hurt me more to admit how I feel about him. Too many risks. Too much potential pain. I would never be able to get over him if anything were to ever go wrong. "Dana," my mother blurts, bringing me back to the here and now. "Go with him. Everything will work out. It always does when it's meant to be." Her words bring a smile to my lips as I join him in the car. He looks at me questioningly, and I pull him toward me by the collar, placing one finalat least for nowmagical kiss on his lips. This is definitely meant to be.
The End