Chapter Text
Mulder was not a Christmas person. If one were to ask him what his plans for the holiday were, he would only shrug and mumble something about catching up on sleep. He never really ‘did’ anything for the holidays, and so he preferred to keep it that way.
That didn’t mean his partner was devoid of the holiday spirit, though. It was the only time of year that he felt she came to life more so than usual—she was more receptive to his jokes, more patient, more kind and understanding.
It’s got to be a Christian thing… Mulder reasoned, as he watched Scully type up her report in the office. She seemed genuinely at peace with herself, and her work, and part of Mulder was annoyed because he felt that there was really no difference between Christmas, or any other time of the year. He knew better than to comment on her mood, or mention his irritable one, though it was apparent to anyone who cared to look that Mulder did not enjoy the holiday season.
So it stood to reason that he also was not fond of the music. It was just as well, because him and Scully could never agree on what kind of music to play while they drove in the car. It was on a particularly clear night that they found themselves coming back from closing a case in Pittsburgh. It was late, but quiet in the car, and so Scully took her chances and turned on the radio lowly. The effect was not immediate. In fact, she wondered if he had noticed at all. He did not respond negatively or positively, and so she left the radio on, murmuring Christmas music lowly as she drifted off to sleep.
When she woke up, she realized the radio was still on, but it seemed louder. She glanced over to look at Mulder, but she was surprised to find that he was singing along, lowly, to himself with the radio. That made her smile—she had not been under the impression that Mulder was much of a singer. In fact, she thought, I’ve never heard him sing before.
There was really no reason for them to have ever really burst out song like in a musical or something, but still, she recalled very distinctly, that she had never really heard him sing, not even part of a joke. She suspected that the reason was probably because of the way his voice had a tendency to crack at times—like the way it was doing at the moment, as he tried to nail downSilent Night. She realized he was probably not aware that she was listening to him, because he most likely would have stopped; it was terrible.
"Mulder, please," Scully said gently, sitting up proper. Mulder seemed genuinely surprised and immediately shut the radio off, and stopped singing. A silence fell over the car, and then—
"How much did you hear?"
"Enough to catch your rendition of Silent Night. I can see why you don’t sing." Scully jibed, though Mulder seemed genuinely rattled.
"I thought you were sleeping." His voice was on edge, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t’ve been doing.
"I was but I woke up," Scully gave him a shrug and leaned over to turn on the radio again. "I don’t mind if you sing. I’ll sing too."
Mulder shook his head. He had not taken his eyes off the road the entire time, but she could tell he was embarrassed. Scully, on the other hand was more amused and sleepy.
"No, it’s fine." He said, though that didn’t stop Scully from humming along to the radio.