Title: Good Things Come in Little Packages

Rating: G

Author's Note: This is the first X-Files fic I've been brave enough to post, so please be gentle. My muse beat this sappy vignette out of me, so I hope it's not too corny. It is, of course, every shipper's fantasy, and I did take some guilty pleasure in writing it.

Dedication: This one's for Karen ("Skywalker Child" here at Fanfiction.net), the Queen of X-Files fan fiction.

Disclaimer: I wish they were mine, but they're not. Mulder, Scully, and Co. belong to the very brilliant Chris Carter. I'm merely borrowing them for my own amusement. This work of fiction is not meant as an infringement upon any copyrighted material. I understand the X-characters do not belong to me, however my words do. Please ask my permission before you post this story on another webpage. Chances are, I'd be delighted to donate it. And without further ado…

Good Things Come in Little Packages

By Sarie

*~*~*

Maybe the Sci-Fi channel would be running a Christmas marathon. Fox Mulder snatched up the TV Guide, hoping against hope, that there would be some sort of paranormal entertainment he could be tuning into, other than the seasonal screening of It's a Wonderful Life. A quick flip through the pages revealed a ten-hour run of The Twilight Zone-- perfect. Mulder sighed contentedly, relieved with the sudden twist of luck. Perhaps the evening wouldn't be a complete loss after all.

Sure, he was spending Christmas alone this year, but it wasn't exactly a new development. After the disappearance of his sister, Samantha, and the inevitable divorce of his parents that quickly followed, Mulder had grown accustomed to empty holidays. In fact, that was often how he operated best in his estranged lifestyle-alone. Of course, that was all before her. Life had been a game of solitaire for Fox Mulder, and he had tricked himself into preferring it that way. When no one else was involved, when there was no one around to complicate things, you held all of the cards. But Dana Scully had changed all that; from the first moment she waltzed into his office and began to challenge his eccentric system of belief. When it came to Scully, Mulder had to be perfectly honest with himself-- there was no other company he'd rather be keeping than that of his fiery, redheaded partner. But she had a life of her own, a family to spend the holidays with, and he wasn't about to hold that against her.

At least it wasn't snowing though. D.C., with its city lights flickering gently through a veil of glistening snow would have been too much. With the absence of the winter embellishment, he just might be able to forget that it was actually Christmas. Plopping down on his worn, leather couch, he grabbed the television's remote and began flipping through the channels. Maybe the William Shattner episode would be aired tonight, Mulder mused absently; wondering whether or not a few glasses of vodka would help to enhance the show's entertainment factor.

His stomach grumbled in protest, reminding him that, holiday or not, it still required it's dinner. Wandering into his rarely used kitchen, he began to rummage through empty cupboards and dusty shelves, scouting for something remotely edible. By the residing cobwebs and lone box of stale saltines, it was clearly evident that his quest was in vain. In a last ditch effort to save himself from a carton of week old Chinese food, Mulder opened his freezer and peered inside. The sight of last month's supermarket, blue light special greeted him from under a shroud of frost.

"Salisbury steak it is," he muttered aloud, removing the frozen package from his barren freezer. He stared at the unappetizing tv dinner for a moment, wiping away the lingering ice particles. Hardly a Christmas feast, but it sure beat the mutated leftovers he had growing in his fridge.

A steady knocking recaptured his immediate attention, and puzzled, Mulder put down his dinner to answer it. He wasn't expecting any company this evening, and though his heart swelled with anticipation, he fought to keep a level head. There was no use getting his hopes up when it was probably coming from the neighbor's door. Mr. Barsely always threw an annual Christmas party for his friends and floor mates, celebrations to which Mulder was never invited.

Opening the door with a characteristic deadpan, Mulder was startled to find that instead of his neighbor's poker buddies, stood a familiar and most welcome sight.

"Scully?" He stated the obvious, still blinking back his astonishment. "What're you doing here?"

"Merry Christmas, Mulder." She greeted him casually, as if her unannounced appearance at his doorstep on Christmas Eve was nothing at all out of the extraordinary. "I figured I'd save us both from a boring evening at home," his partner continued, stepping past him into the dimly lit apartment.

Mulder smiled down at her, his hazel eyes warm and inviting as he allowed his fingers to thread through her copper strands. "You came," he said simply, his words laced with an underlying gratitude.

She paused to meet his gaze, her porcelain cheeks still flushed with a rosy hue induced by the frigid December air. "Yes, well, not even you deserve to spend Christmas Eve alone, Mulder." Scully flashed a shy smile, a little taken back by how right it felt to be with him now.

"What, no Scully family traditions tonight?" Mulder quipped, reluctantly drawing his hand back away from her hair. "Just think, you could be carving up the turkey right now with Bill Jr."

"Nah," she lied, dismissing his inquiry. "We save that monotonous holiday cheer for Christmas morning." Though her mother had sent out the annual Christmas invitations to both Dana and her brother Bill, Scully had apologetically declined. Somehow, the thought of leaving her partner alone for another dreary round of holidays in an empty, and most likely filthy apartment, was unbearable. Oddly enough, everything within her confirmed the feeling that it just made more sense to venture out to Mulder's instead. Her mother had fortunately been full of maternal understanding, unlike Bill, who had demanded that she get her priorities straight.

But by the mischievous flicker in his eyes, Scully was sure he knew that she wasn't being entirely truthful. After years of working side by side, through the most trying and heart-wrenching situations, he could read her like an open book. Decipher her moods and emotions merely by the pitch of her voice, by the thoughtful manner in which she pursed her lips, the way she said his name.

"Thanks," he acknowledged her effort with a light smile. "I'm glad you came, though I'm afraid I can't offer you any of the conventional Christmas fare tonight. I was just about to crack open my own tasty, Yuletide treat." He plucked something off of the kitchen counter, brandishing it proudly with the flick of a wrist.

Scully made a face, viewing the packaged meal with dismay. "A tv dinner? Gee Mulder, and I always thought you were a no-frills kind of guy."

"Don't be misled by the simple packaging, this is hearty, satisfying meal. Or so it claims." He squinted down at the labeling, and pointed knowingly at the bright yellow print. "See? It says right here, 'extra fixin's for the hungry man'."

"Well, put it away. You're not eating that tonight." Scully declared firmly, giving the white bag in her left hand a little shake. "I brought dinner."

"Takeout on Christmas Eve? That's no easy feat." Mulder looked particularly impressed with her holiday resourcefulness. "Why Agent Scully, however did you manage?"

"Anything's better than that frozen artery-clogger." She nodded disdainfully in the general direction of boxed atrocity. "Besides, it's not takeout. Mom sent some goodies along with her best wishes."

"Mrs. Scully cooked for me?" He looked nearly starry-eyed with the concept.

"It just needs to be heated up a bit in the oven." She arched an auburn brow, incredulous. "You do have an oven, right?"

Mulder grinned in response to her trademark skepticism. "And I have no idea how to use it. But that's the beauty of owning a microwave." He gratefully accepted the bag from her, gleefully inhaling the rich aroma of roasted chicken as he returned to the kitchen.

Peeling off her black overcoat, Scully fished through its side pocket to retrieve a wrapped object. Against her own chiding judgment, she had purchased a Christmas present with him in mind. Though they had agreed to forgo the gift-giving tradition, she just hadn't been able to resist.

"Look, I know we said we weren't going to exchange gifts this year…" Scully began sheepishly, turning the package over in her hands. "But…"

"Scully, we say that every year." Her partner replied with a smirk, striding over to his disheveled sofa. From between the couch cushions, he plucked a small, brightly colored gift and held it up for her to see. "Since when do we ever listen?" Favoring her with a boyish smile, he gestured for her to join him.

Obligingly, she followed him to the couch and took a seat, handing him his present. Mulder eagerly snatched it from her extended fingertips with childlike enthusiasm, and tossed her the other gift. He flopped down beside her, peering over her shoulder expectantly. "Open yours first," he insisted, a lopsided smile crossing his features. Eyeing his suspicious countenance, she began to carefully unwrap the rumpled paper.

"Awww, come on Scully," Mulder whined at her delicate approach. "Just rip it open."

She shook her head at his impatience, but did her best to comply. "I'm trying to… did you use the whole roll of tape on this wrapping job?" Scully teased, tearing through the festive red and green spread.

Mulder gave a playful shrug. "What can I say?" He intoned dryly, "I have a passion for scotch tape."

"Among other things…" Scully gingerly opened the remaining paper box, fearing the inevitable hokey gag that was sure to be lurking inside. Instead, nestled in the cardboard interior, lay a small sprig of mistletoe. Her expression registered in surprise and then shock as the logic of it all sunk in. Fingering the little plant, she fought to calm the rapid beating of her heart.

Scully lifted her eyes to meet his; the mistletoe still clutched in her hand. "Hinting at something here, Mulder?" She questioned curiously, doing her best to maintain her sensible composure.

"That depends," came his mysterious reply. He scanned the room around them, his gaze falling to rest on her. "No bees…" A roguish grin bent his lips and Scully felt her breath catch in her throat. "Looks like we're in the clear tonight."

Before she had the time to think up an appropriate response, he was drawing closer, watching her intently. "Merry Christmas, Scully." His breath was a slight quiver upon her neck, and as his lips sank into hers, she felt a pleasant warmth settle over her. His hands trailed up her shoulders, grasping them firmly as he leaned in to deepen the kiss. The rest of the world seemed to fall away, until there was nothing else save for the sensation of her body melting against his

Mulder broke away first, his skin still tingling from the contact. An awkward moment of uncertainty hung over them, and Mulder's brow furrowed, as if in thought. "You know, the Lone Gunman also hooked me up with a pair of tickets to D.C.'s annual UFO convention…" Her partner offered lamely, as if saving the best gift for last. "If you'd prefer that instead..."

There was a brief pause as Scully chose her next words. "As tempting as that sounds," she stated matter-of-factly, a wry smile quirking her full lips. Blue eyes flickered with amusement. "I think I'll stick with the plant."

*~*~*

The End

So what did you think? I'd love to know! E-mail me at SarieGirl1@aol.com