A/N: Charles Scully is the invisible member of the Scully clan. We heard about him throughout the series, but we never got to see him (flashbacks don't count). I've always imagined him as the perfect blend of everyone else in the family – a seaman like his father and eldest brother, warm and compassionate like his mother Maggie, intuitive like Melissa and a redhead like Dana. I've been playing around with this idea for ages, and it's finally complete, so I hope you enjoy it. Characters are still not mine (although Charlie kind of sort of is). Feedback is always welcome.

Her Little Brother

He couldn't help but smile as the plane's wheels touched the ground upon arrival at the Washington National Airport. He could feel it still hanging lazily on his lips as he filled out a form to rent a car, and pulled into the heavy traffic on his way to town. It had been ages since he had seen his family, let alone on Christmastime, but he finally made it. It wouldn't be a long visit, but he was pleased to have managed that, at least. It was definitely long overdue.

The drive to his mother's place was oddly familiar given that he had never actually lived there. He could barely remember the last time he had visited. His parents moved to DC so that they could be closer to their daughters while both their sons were stationed in different parts of the country. His parents had moved quite a lot in their lives due to the nature of his father's job, yet nonetheless had managed to make each of those houses a home for their four children. A pang of sadness washed over him as it occurred to him that there would be no other homes for them, now. This was the place where his father had died.

He turned off the radio, cutting short the marathon of merry Christmas songs. The image of his father lingered, though, and he had to take a few deep breaths to compose himself. It had been several years, but the thought of his father's demise was like a punch to his stomach, still capable of knocking the breath out of him. As always, remorse overwhelmed him. He should make greater effort, visit his mother more often. Only now, being here, he realized how little he had seen her since his father died. He knew she understood, that she was proud of him for taking after his father in his naval career. Still, it didn't quite ease his guilt.

He forced a smile back on, sending the darker thoughts away; turned the radio back on and sang along loudly, even though it was a song his father despised. Soon his mother's house came into view. Another rental car was parked in the driveway, and he assumed it was Bill's. His older brother and his family were staying with his mother, having arrived the day before Christmas Eve, and he was looking forward to seeing his nephew. He glanced at the rearview mirror as he put the car on Park. There was no other car close by enough for it to belong to Dana. Perhaps she was living close by enough for her to just walk over.

He hopped out of the car, grabbed his overnight bag and his share of gifts for everyone, and jogged to the front door. The scent of his mother's cooking was beckoning him forward. His rare homecoming entitled him the guest of honor of her annual Christmas brunch, and while the title was both daunting and anticipatory, he was still on the wrong end of the door.

His mother all but tore open the front door merely seconds after he rang the doorbell, flinging himself into his arms. "Charles!"

"Hi, Mom," he laughed softly. Her scent washed over him, lavender and vanilla extract, homely and familiar.

"I'm so happy you're here with us, honey," she said, slowly pulling away to look up at him. Her eyes were glistening; he felt himself begin to tear up as well. "It's a real shame Maureen couldn't join you."

"I know," he shook his head sorrowfully at the mention of his fiancée. He had only proposed about a month ago, when it was already settled she would visit her own family in New York for Christmas. "She would have loved to finally meet you," he added, jokingly ruffling his mother's hair. She slapped his hand away laughing, and ushered him inside, then upstairs to show him his room.

By the time he joined his family in the living room, feeling much more energized in fresh clothes, the gifts he had brought were already placed underneath the tree. Bill slapped him a high five and fixed him a drink as he said hello to Tara and fussed over baby Matthew. But something was still missing; the reunion he had long yearned for was incomplete. He looked over at his mother, who was standing in the entrance to the living room, watching her two sons with moist eyes. "Is Dana not coming? I figured she would be here first thing in the morning, given she's the only one of us who actually lives around here."

He pretended to see a grimace form on his brother's face at the mere mention of their sister. There was the briefest exchange of glances between his mother and Bill, and then his mother replied, "Dana slept through her alarm this morning. Apparently she was working late last night."

"Working? On Christmas Eve?"

His mother shrugged. Bill handed him his drink wordlessly. They all seemed to be thinking the same thing. It wouldn't be the first time Dana was keeping weird hours during holidays. "I'm sure they're on their way, though."

"They?" This was news to him. He and Dana had been keeping a steady correspondence for years now, through postcards as well as long emails when their busy schedules allowed it. Was she seeing anyone and had somehow forgotten to mention it?

"Only her partner," his mother said, sensing as always the questions in his mind. "When I spoke to her earlier, she mentioned he had no place to go to today, so I invited him to join us."

He wasn't imagining Bill's sourness, then. He hadn't seen his family in months, but his brother's abhorrence towards Dana's partner was common knowledge among the Scully clan.

"So, Charlie, we were all hoping to meet your fiancée," said Tara, flashing an encouraging smile at him. She was obviously trying to keep her husband's rage at bay by changing the subject. His mother looked grateful as she excused herself and disappeared in the kitchen. He told Tara and Bill about Maureen's plans for the holiday, but was secretly relieved she didn't tag along after all. With Dana's partner on his way, who knew what ways Bill would find to embarrass himself. That in itself should be quite amusing, but he didn't want it to be Maureen's first impression of his family.

The sound of the doorbell echoed around the house about fifteen minutes later, disrupting their conversation. Bill grunted, not even trying to conceal his discontent with their mother being out of sight. Tara placed her hand against his knee. "Be nice," she pleaded.

"So what exactly is the deal with this guy?"

"He's trouble," replied Bill. His eyes were hard, unforgiving. Tara shook her head in certain defeat, as if she knew whatever protest she might utter wouldn't deter her husband.

"Come on. He can't be that bad; Dana would never – "

"Dana's been blinded. This guy almost got her killed on multiple occasions. He got Melissa killed. Excuse me for not sharing Mom's sentiments."

"Well," he said, standing up. "I'd like to see for myself what he's about." He left the living room before Bill managed to protest.

He could hear his mother's enthusiastic chatter at the foyer, and his sister's soft alto. He hadn't seen her in years. The one family reunion he had managed to attend over the past few years, she had been forced to skip because she was away, working on a case. Hearing her voice so close by made him all choked up again. He didn't realize how much he had missed her.

He didn't make his presence known right away, though, wanting to observe the scene first. There was a lot one could find out undetected. Dana looked different and yet exactly the same, a dichotomy he had never thought possible until that moment. She was dressed much smartly than he remembered, in black slacks and a dark green cardigan that made her fiery hair pop. Even from his hiding place, he detected the worry lines on her forehead and at the corners of her eyes. She looked as though she could use a good night's sleep. As she spoke to their mother, something had suddenly occurred to him. They weren't little kids anymore. They were aging, all of them.

He looked away from his sister as if to send the grim thought away and focused his attention on her companion. The infamous Agent Mulder was taller than he'd imagined, probably as tall as Bill or himself. His mother asked him something and he replied politely, but there was warmth to his tone, a certain familiarity one he wouldn't necessarily associate with a partner's mother. Nonetheless, he was standing rather awkwardly on the doorway as though feeling out of place. Either that or he had feared Bill would pounce at him at any moment.

He didn't even realize he had snorted out loud at the thought until Dana looked up, suddenly alert. "Is Charlie here?"

He couldn't help but smile at the longing the question carried. Suddenly, he felt silly for putting off their reunion. He stepped into the foyer and let his eyes meet hers. Dana let out what sounded distinctly like a girly squeal as she launched herself at him and crushed into his chest, much like their mother had done earlier.

"Hi, baby sister," he laughed, wrapping his arms around her. Some things never changed; she may have looked older, but she still wasn't taller than his chest. She pressed her nose to his dress shirt, breathing him in. He held her tighter.

"Technically, I'm older than you," she said into his shirt, looking up only to scowl at him. People had often said they were a mirror image of one another, except that her eyes were blue and his brown. Now it suddenly dawned on him that her eyes looked just like their father's. That revelation tugged at his heart.

"Well, you lose points for height," he pointed out as she slowly pulled away from him. "Or its lack thereof," he added, jokingly moving back as she punched his chest. "Gee, Dana, I hope you left your weapon at home." His eyes darted to the lanky man again, who was observing their banter with amusement, but with certain sadness in his dark eyes. "And who is this?" he asked, in a tone he knew would make his sister blush.

"That's my partner, Fox Mulder."

"Partner, huh?" he asked, only to watch the color in her cheeks deepen.

"Mulder, this charming young man is my little brother, Charlie."

"Pleasure," he said, walking forward to shake Mulder's extended hand.

The older man returned his smile somewhat fretfully. "Is it?"

Dana linked her arm with his, chuckling at her partner's hesitation. "He's scared you'd want to kick his ass like Bill."

"Oh, I'm yet to decide whether I'm Team Mom or Team Bill about you, Mr. Mulder. Besides, you do have a weapon, don't you?"

"I wouldn't want to exploit your mother's hospitality."

His mother, who was listening to their exchange, smiled warmly. "Come in, you two. Can I take your coat, Fox?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Scully."

He watched his mother more closely as she took Mulder's coat. The smile lingered on her lips; her eyes were practically gleaming. She obviously admired the man Bill had so passionately loathed. How could it be, he wondered, that he had heard so many contradictory stories about this man?

They all stepped into the living room, where Bill had suddenly found the front yard incredibly interesting, as he barely turned to acknowledge their entry. Tara, who was sitting on the carpet next to Matthew, jumped to her feet. "Dana! You're here!" she beamed.

"Hi, Tara," said Dana, moving forward to hug Tara. "You remember Mulder, don't you?"

"Sure, we met last year," said Tara, her bright expression darkening ever so slightly as she shook Mulder's outstretched hand. Once again, he felt miffed by his inability to join his family as often as he had wished. He seemed to be missing out on so much. Already he was beginning to wonder what happened the previous Christmas that made his sister-in-law react to Dana's partner in this way.

"He's grown so big!" Dana exclaimed as Tara picked up the baby to say hello to his aunt. He looked at his sister with awe as she held her finger out for Matthew to grab. Matthew was the first baby in the family and he had never envisioned any of them having some sort of interaction with such small children, Dana included. It was strange to think she would never get to experience all that firsthand. Watching her now with Matthew, the notion of her barrenness was particularly heart wrenching. He noticed Bill watch the scene with similar dismay. The murderous glare he had shot Mulder right afterwards made it clear he was holding him responsible for that fact.

Thankfully, their mother had saved them all from an awkward incident, because Bill was clearly gearing up for a fight. He breathed a sigh of relief as she announced brunch was ready, and they all followed her to the dining table. He noticed how Mulder was lagging behind, then guiding Dana forward, placing his hand gently against the small of her back. He found the gentlemanly gesture unexpected, and incredibly sweet.

His mother directed everyone to their seats, and he was relieved to discover she had placed Bill at one end of the table, as far away from Mulder as possible. The baby chair was placed between him and Tara, and that should provide some distraction for Bill, anyway.

"So, Agent Mulder," he started, glancing sideways at his sister, who nearly choked on her sip of red wine. "Working on anything interesting at the moment?"

Trying to block the discontent on Bill's face, he focused on his sister's partner, who smiled sheepishly. "Unofficially, but I doubt your sister will want me to discuss it over brunch."

"Unofficially?" Bill interjected, narrowing his eyes. "Are you dragging her into one of your personal crusades again?"

His tone was so poisonous even their mother froze for a moment, ready to scowl him if necessary. But it was Dana who snorted and shook her head. "Hardly. We merely spent the majority of last night wandering about the premises of a haunted house," she said casually.

"Ghostbusting," he let out a whistle. "That's where my tax money is going, then?"

"You'll be surprised where all this money ends up," Mulder told him, but there was no animosity or malice in his tone. He didn't seem eager to please either. He was just being himself, by the looks of it.

"A haunted house? Really?" asked Tara, looking away from baby Matthew for a second. She seemed genuinely interested. "Did you meet any ghosts?" she inquired, promptly ignoring her husband's glare.

Dana's cheeks were turning pink. "Actually – "

"We encountered two, Lyda and Maurice, an old couple who lived and eventually died there, by their own hand. It was a lovers' pact."

"We haven't encountered anything. The house and the storm were just messing with our heads, that's all."

Mulder all but tossed his fork aside as he pinned Dana with an incredulous look. "I can't believe we're back to that after everything that happened last night!"

"Now that I slept on it, I realized how implausible the whole thing was."

"They turned us against one another, that old lady made you shoot me!"

"Well, you don't seem injured to me, Mulder," said Dana. Bill muttered something about the golden opportunity that had gone amiss, but he was generally ignored.

Their part banter part quarrel went back and forth in a dizzying pace and was actually quite entertaining. Dana's cold, logical approach was clearly pushing Mulder, challenging him, making him argue his point even more passionately. Funny, but Mulder's freakish viewpoint sort of reminded him of Melissa. The ghosts of two lovers trying to send a message from a world beyond? This could easily have been a heated discussion between his sisters around the dinner table all these years ago.

Try as he might, though, he couldn't get Bill's attitude. Sure, Melissa's absence was always more poignant during family gatherings, but from there to blaming Mulder for her death, for ruining Dana? He stole another glance at his sister. There was this glimmer in her eyes; she looked far from ruined. Judging by what he had witnessed, Mulder treated her with utter respect. He didn't look down on her or dismissed her opinions. He had never doubted Dana's sharp mind, and her partner's intellect impressed him just as much. The way he saw it, they were complete opposites, but also perfect equals. Mulder seemed to not only know that, but appreciate it as well.

As they recounted other strange cases they had come across over the years, he listened with fascination. It was almost as though there was no one else around. They completed each other's sentences. There was this level of intimacy between them that he and Maureen, in their two year relationship, were yet to attain. By the time his mother was serving dessert and conversation had shifted to other topics, he found himself entertaining Mulder with stories about Dana's childhood, much to her dismay, and Bill's.

"Great. Thanks, Charlie," she sulked as he concluded yet another anecdote, but the frown never reached her eyes. Mulder also noticed, and his expression softened. It was the way he was looking at his sister – with such admiration – that settled it. Whatever this man had done in the past, there was no way he could resent him. Not when he clearly cared for Dana. It was quite palpable, the way they sort of gravitated towards one another. The most beautiful thing was that they didn't seem aware of it. One glance at his mother assured him he wasn't imagining things. It was there alright. She had noticed it too.

"Right. Charlie, could you give me a hand with the dishes, please?" his mother stood up, looking at him pointedly.

"Oh, I'll help you, Mom," said Dana, already halfway up.

"No, no, honey. You sit back and relax for a change, you both look as if you need it," his mother said, rolling her eyes as if the thought of Dana chasing ghosts in the dead of night amused her. "Charlie?"

He followed her to the kitchen and they listened how the clamor from the dining table slowly receded as everyone shifted back to the living room with their cups of coffee.

"So what do you think?" his mother asked, whispering even though they were a safe distance away from the rest.

He stared at her in mock astonishment. "Really, Mom? That's why you wanted my help?" She jokingly slapped his arm. He kept on a straight face. "I don't know. What do I think about what?"

"Stop it," she giggled. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I think," he started, but soon faltered. All jokes aside, putting his thoughts into words was harder than he'd imagined. "I think it's been a while since I've seen Dana so… comfortable in her own skin, I guess."

"That's an interesting way of putting it," his mother mused, promptly ignoring the pile of dirty dishes that needed sorting as she sat down. Her eyes were gleaming as she looked up at him. "But you noticed it too, didn't you?"

She didn't say what it was, but she didn't need to. He knew exactly what she meant, and so he nodded as he sat across from her. They said nothing for a moment, then his mother giggled somewhat guiltily.

"Your father would have hated him," she said.

"Oh, God, yes," he laughed, as Mulder's obvious dread from Bill came to mind. It could have been – would have been – much worse had their father been alive. He loved all his children, but it had never been a secret that his attachment to Dana was different. She had a certain hold of his heart none of the other Scully siblings had ever come close to achieve. Bill's wrath was nothing compared to their father's had he met the partner of his precious Starbuck.

"Do you think they know…"

His voice trailed; once again, he was at a loss. That they love each other was close enough, but inaccurate. But like he'd done before, now his mother seemed to know what he meant. "I think that they aren't ready to face it just yet. But once they do… Well, it seems to me it will be something they'll only gain from."

It was observations like this one which made him miss his mother. He smiled. "I'm almost sorry you haven't hung any mistletoe in their proximity. It could have been hilarious to mess with Bill like that."

"He isn't doing it out of spite," his mother said. "He loves Dana in his own way. He thinks he's protecting her, that it's his job to do so now that your dad can't. I think he would have hated anyone she'd bring home, even if he wasn't just her partner at work."

He nodded. It sounded just about right.

"Go, get out of here," his mother nodded towards the door. "Go spend some time with your brother and sister. I'll clean up here."

"Are you sure, Mom?" he glanced at the menacing pile of dishes. For the past two days she'd been cooking and helping out with baby Matthew. Even though she didn't let it show, she must have been exhausted.

"Positive. We should all make the best out of your time at home." She reached out from across her table, and he took her wrinkly hands in his, wrapping them protectively.

"I wish Dad and Melissa…"

"I know, sweetheart," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "But they are here with us in their own way."

He found himself getting all teary eyed again. Suddenly he missed them both so much. "Do you really believe that, Mom?"

Through a veil of tears, his mother smiled softly. "I want to believe."

He meant to step into the foyer, but stopped when he heard Mulder and Dana's hushed conversation. He smiled to himself, imagining Bill's unabashed attempts to eavesdrop. He was probably standing there at the entrance to the living room, doing his best to listen over Matthew constant babble.

"You don't have to go, you know," Dana's voice was soft, sorrowful.

"It's probably for the best, Scully. Bill looks ready to pounce, and although your younger brother seems nice enough, well…" He paused for a breath, glancing in the general direction of the kitchen. "When the jury is out for so long, it can only mean one thing."

Dana seemed to want to protest, but then shook her head as if she thought better of it. "You said your mom was with friends out of town. Where will you go?"

"To the office, for a while." And then, before she managed to utter a protest, "And the Gunmen's Christmas dinner is an annual tradition I rarely miss."

"As exciting as this sounds, Mulder, are you sure you don't want to stay for a bit?" Trying a new tactic, she took a step closer and took her hand in his, looking up at him pleadingly. Not like a lover; like whatever it was that could best describe the intricacy of their relationship. "I want you to stay."

For a moment, Mulder looked torn, held captive by his partner. Dana held his gaze with her typical bravery, as if daring him to look away. He found himself holding his breath until, a long moment later, Mulder slowly pulled his hand away and shook his head. "Tell your mother how grateful I am for her invitation," he said, somehow not shrinking against the sadness that suddenly overtook Dana's eyes. Then, as if he thought better of it, he leaned over to lay a kiss on her cheek, lingering slightly more than appropriate. "Merry Christmas, Scully."

"Merry Christmas, Mulder," Dana murmured in certain defeat, looking away as if embarrassed.

He couldn't bear seeing his sister like this. He was approaching them before he even realized what he was doing. "Leaving so soon, Mr. Mulder?"

They both seemed shaken by the abrupt interruption to their intimate moment. Mulder composed himself first, and took a step back, as if their close proximity was somehow against the law. "Yeah, there are… a few people I need to see."

Dana rolled her eyes at that, but kept her opinions to herself. She wasn't going to get in her partner's way, but he was going to. For her sake; a Christmas gift from her little brother. "Surely you can stay for a while longer. We haven't even played Scrabble yet."

Dana looked both horrified and impressed as she quickly caught on. Mulder seemed intrigued in spite of himself. "Scrabble?"

"It's an old family tradition," he fibbed, all the while hoping with all his might his mother still had the old Scrabble set from their childhood. Throwing Dana a look, she was obviously hoping for the same thing.

Mulder, otherwise paranoid and observant, failed to notice their wordless exchange as he looked at his partner curiously. "I didn't know you played Scrabble, Scully."

"She's pretty good, too," he said.

"I'm decent," Dana replied, obviously embarrassed to suddenly be put on the spot.

"If we lace her chamomile tea with something, we might stand some sort of chance," he flashed Mulder a cunning grin.

Mulder seemed somewhat hesitant still, but then slowly nodded. "I guess… I can stay for a few rounds."

"Excellent," he smiled, satisfied. "Why don't you go back to the living room while I find our Scrabble set?"

Dana lagged behind as Mulder headed back to the living room. She looked on fretfully as though she was scared to leave him alone with Bill, but then, as if she decided he would be fine on his own for a moment, she took his hand and gave it a little squeeze. "Nice save, little brother."

"Anything for you, sis," he smiled.

"So, umm, I'm guessing this means Team Mom has got your vote?"

"It wasn't really a tough call, you know."

"I know," she replied, absentmindedly touching her cheek, the exact spot on which Mulder had kissed her a few moments earlier. He decided against pointing it out. He didn't want to embarrass her further, and besides, his mother was right. They would figure it out on their own eventually.

"I'll go get that set."

Finding the Scrabble set turned out to be easier than he'd imagined – right in the room he was to stay at. He grabbed the box and hurried downstairs, not giving his sister's partner a chance to slip away. Only upon returning to the living room, he realized there was no reason to hurry. Mulder wasn't going anywhere. He and Dana occupied one corner of the room, heads close together but still somewhat professional looking, a position he figured they had come to muster in six years of partnership. He looked at the ceiling and smiled, still yearning for a mistletoe that would make them face whatever it was between them, no matter what his mother said. His thoughts drifted to Maureen, to how much like his mother she was. He knew that had she been there she would have scolded his impatience, told him to give them time, that if it meant to happen, it would.

Well, this time between Christmas and New Year was all about resolutions, and so, that would be his. He would give them time. A year. Next year would mark the Millennium after all, and so why not make it all the more symbolic? If nothing happened between the two of them within the year, he would have no choice but interfere. That was what little brothers were supposed to do after all, wasn't it?

And so, filled with new resolve and feeling quite pleased with himself, he headed straight towards his sister and her partner to lay the seed for his scheme.