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“Mulder, have you seen my coat?”
Scully’s voice is muffled as she rummages through the coat closet, one step away from disappearing inside completely. Mulder allows himself a moment to admire the shape of her waist in her dark green dress before answering.
“I’m one step ahead of you, Scully.”
He steps behind her, one hand cupping her elbow to draw her closer. Mulder holds out the coat for her to slip her arms in, pulling it tight around her with quick, sharp movements. His palm lands on the small of her back to usher her toward the door, forcing her take two steps for every one of his. She throws him a suspicious look over her shoulder and digs her heels in a little.
“You’re rushing me out of the room,” she says, her tone amused.
“I’ve got a girl coming over,” he teases, keeping his eyes trained on her and taking pleasure in the way her suspicion melts into a smirk.
“You think your date will go so well that she’ll go home with you?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Scully,” he replies cheekily, “but I’m the most persuasive agent to ever grace the FBI’s basement.”
Scully laughs, rolls her eyes, and allows him to lead her out the door.
Mulder pauses, smoothly looking up at the mistletoe hanging in the doorway and then back down, and expects to see her craning her neck up toward him.
Instead, by the time he looks down again she’s slipped away from him, already at the car.
“Scully?”
“Mulder, what are you waiting for? It’s freezing!” she calls, her red hair just barely visible over the open car door.
Now that would’ve been an excellent place for mistletoe, he thinks. He could’ve gotten her with an offer to open the door for her.
Never mind that he can kiss her whenever he wants, but he’s determined to surprise her with the gesture. The list of haunted houses he wants to take her to is extensive, after all. His more festive method of wooing her will definitely earn him brownie points before he brings those up again.
Scully calls his name again before she shuts the car door. He grins at her.
After dinner it is.
-X-
Scully manages to sabotage his efforts entirely on the ride back with a single phrase. He scrambles to catch up to her when she leaves him momentarily paralyzed in the driver’s seat, and his mind goes pleasantly blank at the sight of her stripping off her heels and dress.
His next plan has to be less obvious, he decides later that night with the weight of her against his arm. He’s up at dawn to move the mistletoe, tiptoeing around the kitchen with practiced ease.
“Scully, I think I need some help here!” he calls when he hears the bathroom faucet run.
Mulder schools his features into an appropriately bewildered expression as Scully pokes her head in the doorway and surveys the mess of dishes that crowd the counter space. She’s adorably disheveled and bleary-eyed, but she’s never one to miss a chance to raise a skeptical eyebrow at him. Mulder holds his breath and takes two quick steps to meet her because it’s there, right there, but she moves in response to him, turning back to the bedroom. She shakes her head and sighs.
“Mulder, it’s too early for this. Come back to bed.”
“But Scully–” He tries, trailing after her.
“Bed,” she says with finality, doubling back to grab his hand and pull him along with her. Well, how can he argue with that?
-X-
His next dozen plans all fall through, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was doing it on purpose. He hides the mistletoe so she won’t see it unless she’s looking for it, and if she’d found it, he thinks she would have said something. Still, she’s suspicious at the very least, and there are only so many doorways, dark corners, and shower rods a man can hang mistletoe before he starts to grow frustrated.
“Scully,” he finally says, almost a week later, looking up from the expense reports on his desk.
“Hm?” she hums across from him, gaze still focused on her paperwork.
“How is it that we’ve uncovered the greatest conspiracy known to man, and somehow we’ve managed to avoid the time-honored tradition of kissing under the mistletoe?”
She looks up at him, her lips pursed to stifle a laugh. “Those two things aren’t related in the least.”
“They are in that they’re both true.”
“Okay.” She smiles, interest piqued. “So this is what’s been on your mind all week.”
Mulder nods fervently, searching through his desk drawer suddenly.
“That’s quite an egregious oversight on our part.” Scully leans forward in her seat just the slightest bit. “What do you propose we do about it, Mulder?”
“Like I said,” he shoots her a boyish grin and holds up a yellow sticky note triumphantly. “I’m way ahead of you, Scully.”
She catches a glimpse of the word “mistletoe” scribbled down messily before he’s leaning over the rest of the way to kiss her sweetly. Scully rises up in her seat to keep his close for a few seconds longer, and when she breaks away he’s grinning wider than before.
“Hey, Scully. Are you up for some ghostbusting?”