Work Text:
“Only three shopping days left until Christmas folks, so make sure you-”
Scully changed the station on the radio, thumbing through her presets to find something decent to listen to. Commercials, commercials, and more commercials.
“...fit to give a king, pa rum pa pum pum…”
She sat back in her seat with a sigh. Only three shopping days left, indeed. The mall was a madhouse and she’d been stuck in the exit line of the parking lot for over half an hour, inching her way towards freedom. A light snow had begun to fall and the wipers squeaked off rhythm with the Christmas music. The windows began to fog and she adjusted the defroster once again and held her fingertips to the heating vent, making a mental note to bring her car into the shop when she got back from California.
“Finally,” she muttered, rolling forward as the traffic began to move. Her cell phone rang and she blindly groped one-handed at her overcoat crumbled beside her in the passenger seat. “Scully.”
“Hey, Scully, it’s me.”
“Mulder.”
“Where are you?”
“Purgatory,” she replied, coming to a stop once more behind the sea of taillights.
“You’re still shopping?”
“I finished shopping an hour ago. What I’d like now is to escape the parking lot.”
“You know I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but with only four shopping days until Christmas-”
“Yes, thank you,” she interrupted, her voice clipped with annoyance. “I am well aware of the time crunch, however if someone hadn’t dragged me out of town the last three weekends in a row, I might not be in my current predicament.”
“Maybe if you’re a good girl next year, Santa will make sure all the unusual crimes are contained to the DC metro area.”
She sighed and deflated just a little. “Sorry, Mulder, I know it’s not your fault. I’m just…”
“I try not to take offense to anything said under the influence of road rage.”
“At least I can finally see the traffic light up ahead.”
“There’s hope yet. When do you think you’ll be home?”
“Why?”
“Well, I was calling to see if you were up for stopping by to take a look at something, but I think I’ll just come to you instead.”
“Mulder, I leave tomorrow, I’ve got packing to do, wrapping to do, I can’t-”
“It won’t take long.”
“Can’t it wait?” She closed her eyes for a brief moment and shook her head. “No, of course it can’t.”
“I’ll be out of your hair in no time. Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a boy scout, Mulder.”
“It’s the thought that counts though.”
Scully craned her neck up as she caught sight of the red traffic light changing to green. “Half an hour if I can make it out at the next light or two,” she said. “You can let yourself in if I’m not there.”
“See you soon.”
She heard the soft click of disconnection and tossed her phone onto her overcoat. She might have been exasperated, but a small smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth. She didn’t know what Mulder had up his sleeve, but she was fairly certain it wasn’t work-related. It had been happening a lot lately; whether a late night game of baseball or a spontaneous stop at a frozen yogurt shop on a long drive or a video rental and popcorn on a Friday evening after work, Mulder had been finding little ways to connect with her on a personal basis. She’d been seeing a different side of him this past year, one that she was initially afraid to admit that she liked, but if she were being honest, she liked it a lot.
As it turned out, she was not lucky enough to make the next light, or the one after that, but after twenty more minutes inching her way towards the exit, she was finally free, but the snow had gotten heavier and it made for a more cautious, slower drive home. By the time she parked in front of her building, the streets were white and the estimated time of arrival she’d given to Mulder had doubled. She was a little surprised he hadn’t called to check her status.
The building superintendent was outside salting the sidewalks and he gave her a little wave and offered to help with her bags, which she politely declined. She shouldered open the lobby door and went straight to the elevator, shaking her head lightly to displace the snow in her hair and eyelashes. She could already feel the melt in her collar. Thankfully she’d chosen boots to wear that morning and not pumps, even though it was an in-office day, so at least her feet weren’t wet or frozen.
It was obvious Mulder had let himself in when she opened her door. Her TV was on, displaying the yule log channel, and the soft strains of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas were playing on her stereo. His jacket was draped over one of the kitchen chairs and the light was on above the stove. She dropped the bags next to the door. Suddenly, Mulder’s head popped up from over the couch, where he’d apparently been relaxing.
“Oh, hey,” he said, pushing the arms of his dark grey sweater up to his elbows as he came towards her. “I was starting to get a little worried.”
“The snow didn’t help with the traffic,” she answered, taking a glance behind her as he helped her out of her jacket.
“Supposed to let up within the hour though.”
“I hope so.” She bent to unzip her boots as Mulder hung her coat on the rack. “So, what’d you want to show me?”
“First thing’s first.” He started to back away towards her kitchen. “Stay right there. Or, I mean go sit down. I’ll be right back.”
She leaned slightly to the side to try to see past him, but he made a shooing motion at her and then pointed to the couch. She gave him a suspicious lift of her eyebrow, but started towards the couch and then changed her mind.
“You do whatever mysterious thing you do and I’m going to go change,” she called to him.
“Fine,” he answered, waving a hand with his back turned to her.
She wanted to get comfortable, but not too comfortable. Not because Mulder was there, but because she still had to pack for California, still had to wrap her last-minute presents, still had to shower and make sure her plants were watered. She went with jeans and a baby blue sweater, one she always liked but hadn’t worn in years. Her mother had once suggested she wear it to a church function that turned out to be an attempted set-up with a single man that had joined the parish. It just really brings out your beautiful eyes, Dana.
When she came out of her room, Mulder was still in the kitchen, so she sat down on the couch and tried not to let her curiosity get the better of her. “You need any help in there, Mulder?” she asked.
“Almost done.”
She turned her face up and sniffed lightly at the air. She didn’t smell anything cooking, or burning for that matter, but she did think she’d heard the snap of the stove igniting just before she’d shut her bedroom door to change. It was quiet, save for the crackling of the faux yule log on TV.
“Okay,” Mulder called. “Close your eyes.”
“My eyes are closed.”
“Great, now really close them.”
She smiled a little and then covered her face with her hands. “They’re covered. Happy?”
“No peeking.”
She could hear movement, soft and slow, and it made her heart start to hammer a little harder. Even as a child, she’d hated surprises, but it wasn’t fear she was feeling, it was anticipation. She felt the couch dip at her side and there were a few moments of adjustment.
“Alright,” Mulder said.
Scully hesitated, and then opened her hands and squinted one eye open. There were two coffee mugs on her table, one that was painted like Rudolph and one like the Abominable Snow Monster that she recognized from the classic stop-motion movie that always played when she was a kid. Each one was topped with mini marshmallows and had a candy cane draped over the mouth.
“Hot chocolate?” she asked.
“Not just any hot chocolate, Scully, Swiss Miss, limited holiday edition instant peppermint hot chocolate.”
“Oh, I see.” She reached for the mug closest to her and paused with her fingertips on the handle when she saw Mulder shift a little out of the corner of her eye and then bite his lip. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing…”
She picked up the mug and then handed it to Mulder. “You want the Abominable Snow Monster for yourself, don’t you?”
“I mean, I didn’t think you’d actually go for that one.”
“Where did you even get these?” she asked, taking the Rudolph one for herself.
“I have my sources,” he answered in a low, serious tone. “Cheers.”
They cautiously tapped their mugs together, conscious of the potential for spillage. Scully blew across the top of the mug, briefly dissipating the swirling steam rising from the hot liquid. The marshmallows were quickly dissolving into thick, creamy white bubbles and the candy cane was sweating. She took a tentative sip and nodded in approval.
“It’s good,” she said. “But, I don’t imagine it’s what you wanted me to ‘take a look at,’ is it?”
“Ah…” Mulder chuckled as he set his mug back down on the table and then bounced his fingers together a few times. He got up and went to where his jacket was draped over the chair and pulled out a box hidden beneath. It was flat and rectangular, the kind of box a shirt might come wrapped in, and it was wrapped elegantly in gold paper and a thick, gold and silver ribbon.
“Mulder…”
“Look, I know we said we wouldn’t do gifts, but…I got this awhile ago, so I couldn’t just…I was going to give it to you today before you left the office, but I…I guess I chickened out. Merry Christmas, Scully.” He put the box in her lap and sat back down on the couch, immediately picking his mug back up as though needing to fill his hands with something.
“We did say we weren’t going to do gifts.” She set her mug down and ran her fingers over the loops of the bow formed by the ties of the ribbon. “The thing is…I got something for you too, it just isn’t wrapped.”
“That’s okay. One less thing to do.”
“Let me go get it.” She took a sip of her cooling hot chocolate and left the box to save her seat while she went to grab Mulder’s gift.
Like Mulder, she’d gotten this particular gift some time ago and held onto it, initially thinking she might give it to him for his birthday, but it felt too extravagant somehow for a birthday present. She’d only suggested they skip doing gifts for each other this year because he’d grumbled about the holiday shopping seemingly starting earlier and earlier every year and how he couldn’t even get a parking spot at his local shopping center just to get some new socks on a weekday morning last month. He’d seemed reluctant to agree when she brought it up, but acquiesced with an eventual shrug.
The book had been an unexpected find while out for an afternoon at an antiques flea market with her mother. It had caught her eye because of the bright and unusual cover, a colorized version of a 19th century engraving from a piece she was unfamiliar with titled L'atmosphère Météorologie Populaire, according to the inside cover. She’d thumbed through the pages, normally not drawn to books on space, that was her partner's milieu, but she’d never seen anything that quite blended history and science and art in such a seamless way. The way it was crafted with illustrations, anecdotal asides, stunning photographs, it seemed like a real labor of love, and perfect for Mulder. It was also in surprisingly perfect condition for having been published nearly thirty years ago and tucked within a haphazard stack of dusty books.
It had been in her closet for five months, and she was glad to finally be able to give the gift away, but she wished she’d had the forethought to wrap it. As a last minute thought, she grabbed a clean towel from the linen closet and folded it up inside so at least he could unwrap something.
By the time she returned, Mulder had finished half his hot chocolate and was sucking on the remnants of his candy cane. She handed him the towel-wrapped gift before she sat down and he lifted it up and shook it by his ear.
“Thought you said it wasn’t wrapped,” he said. “This looks pretty Bed, Bath, and Beyond official to me.”
“I tried.”
“You go first.”
Scully took her time untying the bow, but tore through the paper for Mulder’s benefit, knowing how antsy he got when she tried to carefully cut through wrapping without causing any rips. The box was plain and as she suspected, the kind that some sort of article of clothing would usually be wrapped inside. The white tissue paper that held the mystery inside was taped closed with a gold sticker.
“Oh,” she breathed, uncovering a black cashmere scarf and a pair of black, suede gloves. Without even checking for a brand, she knew either one of them could cost a month’s rent. “Mulder, this is too much.”
“They don’t fit?”
“I mean…I mean you shouldn’t have, they’re…”
“Perfectly matched to that jacket you got last spring.”
“What jacket?” she asked, pulling on one of the gloves and flexing her fingers.
“The one you wore the night we slapped a piece of horsehide with a stick, I think was the expression.”
“Oh,” she said, tugging the glove back off and returning it to the box with its mate. “The green one.”
“I liked it. It was soft.”
“It is soft, just not very work friendly.”
“Maybe that means we should aim for some non-work friendly environments to meet up in next year.”
Her stomach did a quick somersault. “Yeah, I…I guess we could aim for that.”
They held eye contact for probably a few moments too long and Scully finally looked away, tucking her hair back over one ear. She ran her hand over the scarf. It felt like touching a cloud.
“Me next?” Mulder asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t think it’s the E-Z Bake Oven I asked Santa for,” he said, tapping his fingers over the top of the towel.
“Maybe next year.”
The book landed upside down in Mulder’s lap when he unraveled the towel. He turned it over and then quietly studied the cover. He nodded a few times and then his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.
“This is really beautiful,” he said. “Where did you find it?”
“At a flea market.”
“I love it. It’ll keep me occupied for the rest of the week.”
“Anything to keep you out of trouble.”
He smiled a little. “Or keep me from missing you.”
“Oh.”
Scully felt a heat rise from her chest to her cheeks and she buried her sudden rush of emotion in her mug of hot chocolate. She sat back and surreptitiously watched Mulder slowly turn the pages of his new book. He looked rapt, not in the focused and determined way he put together his slide shows, but more like a child discovering magic for the first time.
She finished her drink and gathered up the wrapping to take to the trash, leaving an engrossed Mulder on her couch. The bag of mini-marshmallows sat unopened on her counter and the box of hot chocolate packets was tipped over, but the kettle had been placed in the sink and the candy cane wrappers had been thrown away. She tidied up the small mess and as she turned, started when Mulder was suddenly behind her with his empty mug.
“I should probably get going,” he said. “I can wash those, before I go.”
“Leave it. I need to run the dishwasher tonight anyway.”
Scully followed as he went to pick up his jacket. The book was on the table nearby. He pulled his jacket on and then tucked the book under his arm.
“There is one more thing I wanted to show you,” he said.
“Oh?”
They were paused together in the doorframe between the dining area and living room. Mulder nodded and lifted his eyes up. Scully did as well. A small sprig of mistletoe was taped to the top of the frame. When she dropped her eyes to his, he was biting his lip.
“You know the Druids believed that mistletoe was sacred,” Mulder said. “Since it flourished year-round, even in the harshest of winters, it was considered a symbol of vitality.”
“Is that right?”
“They thought that if it ever touched the ground, it might lose its magical properties. It used to be hung in doorways at the winter solstice to ward off evil.”
“I think I could get behind that tradition.”
Mulder hesitated and shrugged one shoulder slightly as he shook his head. “Are there…other traditions involving mistletoe you could get behind?”
She held his gaze, her heart thudding rapidly against her chest. She licked the curve of her mouth and noticed his eyes dart down to her lips and back before he swallowed. She nodded softly and then tilted her chin up ever so slightly. Her eyes drooped shut as he leaned towards her and she felt him press a light kiss to the side of her mouth.
“Merry Christmas, Scully,” he whispered.
She felt a pang of disappointment when she opened her eyes and Mulder had straightened. Her mouth opened and she tried to speak, but ended up sighing instead. His hand came up, cupping her cheek.
“I thought I’d worked up enough nerve to do this and now I don’t know if I can kiss you and let you go for a week.”
“You could come with me.”
He chuckled softly and stroked the apple of her cheek. “Your brother would love that, I’m sure.”
“Or I could stay.”
“Your brother would love that even more.”
“Mulder…”
“Something to look forward to. For both of us?”
She reached up and took hold of his wrist. “What are you doing New Year's Eve?” she asked.
“No plans.”
“There’s another tradition that night I could get behind.”
“So could I.”
“So…”
“So…it’s a date?”
She nodded. It was difficult to step away from each other, but she finally let go of his wrist and his hand slipped off her cheek.
“Well, then,” he said, lifting his other arm up at the elbow to flash his book. “Travel safe. I’ll see you in a week.”
“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”
Scully locked the door behind Mulder and then pressed her hands to her cheeks and took a sharp breath. Her night was not something she had envisioned would happen, but it was something she’d hoped for. She went back to the dining table and pulled a chair out to reach the doorframe. Even on tiptoes, she wasn’t nearly tall enough to reach. As soon as her fingers touched the mistletoe, she paused and then stepped back down from the chair without taking it down, deciding it could stay right where it was. It could be useful next week and she had wrapping to do.
The End