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They walked quietly away from his apartment, his hand at its usual spot on her lower back.
He hadn't expected her to come over tonight, not after...whatever the hell happened back there. He was still reeling from the fact that they almost shot each other in the entryway of a haunted house.
Merry Christmas, indeed.
His mood brightened considerably when she appeared on his doorstep even if she was still convinced everything that happened was all in their heads.
They'd exchanged gifts - a copy of Apollo 13 for him and fancy bath salts for her - and he'd made her some tea. They sat comfortably for a while, watching little flecks of white dance past his window. He could admit to himself now that this was what he'd wanted all along. To not feel so alone. He'd felt the need to frame it as a case when he'd have been perfectly happy just spending a quiet evening in with her.
After several yawns his guilt about keeping her from her family Christmas gathering finally got the best of him and he offered to escort her out.
Passing evergreen garlands and a few wreaths that his landlord had put up in the hallway, she protested, "You really don't have to walk me to the elevator, Mulder."
"Strange things have been known happen in this hallway. You can't be too careful."
He realized as he said this they were just passing the spot where she was stung the previous year. The spot where he'd poured his heart out to her when he thought she was leaving him. The spot where they had almost kissed. He wondered if she thought about it as often as he did. He wondered if it also kept her awake some nights...wondering.
Scully pressed the button to call the elevator and the door opened immediately. Not much demand for it this time of night/morning/whatever.
She entered and turned to face him again, offering him a sleepy but warm smile.
His eyes traced the soft curves of her face. "Say hi to your mom for me," he said, bracing the door open with one arm.
Just then something caught his eye. Hanging from the ceiling of the elevator was a cluster of evergreen leaves and white berries. "Is that...?"
She had followed his eyeline and before he could finish his sentence she suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket and brought his lips to hers. Startled, he stumbled into the elevator with her.
The reality of kissing Scully was far beyond what his fantasies had conjured up. And he'd had some pretty fantastic ones catalogued away by this point. Even the memory (hallucination?) of kissing her 1939 counterpart paled in comparison to present-day Scully. Her lips were warm and oh so soft. She tasted like chamomile and fate and he immediately wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her for the rest of his life.
He circled his arms around her as she ran her tongue along his bottom lip. Groaning, he opened his mouth and gladly accepted her in. His tongue wrestled with hers as she made desperate whimpering noises that were making his head spin.
After several minutes (and a concerning lack of oxygen) they broke away simultaneously.
Breathing heavily, he brought his forehead to touch hers. "Wow," he panted.
"Yeah," she agreed.
He gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I need to go," she sighed.
"Yeah." He reluctantly reached behind him and hit the button for the ground floor.
When the door opened she raised up and kissed him lightly on the lips again. She slipped out from his embrace tossing a flirty smile at him over her shoulder.
He shook his head as if to clear it and hit the button for his floor.
Next time he saw his landlord he'd make a point to compliment him on his decorating skills.