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The wine goes to Scully’s head quickly since she hasn’t made it to the buffet table yet, so she’s a little fuzzy on how much time has passed. Still, it seems to be taking Mulder longer than necessary to return from the simple errand of getting two drinks. Maybe he stepped outside to get some air, she thinks with a smirk, recalling the flush that had spread across his face as they’d met. She scans the crowd for others she knows, catching a glimpse of Skinner across the room. She should at least say hi, and it’ll give her something to occupy herself instead of standing around like an abandoned date. She sets her empty glass on a tray and heads toward Skinner.
The Bureau has sprung for a live band this year, and they’ve set up near the base of a staircase with a small wooden dance floor spread out in front of them. They’ve only been playing a few minutes, but the sound of classic holiday tunes is turning the cavernous space into a cozy party. A few couples have begun to sway together to a jazzy arrangement of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”
Scully can’t stop the smile that creeps up as she watches the dancers, the movement of the musicians, and the twinkle of tea lights throwing shadows around the room. She can’t remember when she has last been to such a nice party, and wonders why she has avoided these in years past. Tonight, she can’t think of anything other than “Peace on Earth and Goodwill toward Men.” Or at least one man in particular.
That’s when she sees him, in the last place she’d expect. On the far side of the dance floor, she sees the back of his head and the familiar span of his shoulders. Draped languidly around those shoulders are two white arms.
Scully feels her stomach flip and the heat of embarrassment jolt through her veins. She can’t move. She just stares, long enough for Diana to catch her gaze. Diana raises an eyebrow at Scully and moves her head closer to Mulder’s cheek, closing the distance between he and her. Mulder’s hands sit loosely on her waist and they’re both sort of shuffling side to side like two middle schoolers at their first clumsy dance.
Diana is wearing a long black velvet gown with a slit up to her thigh, and her dark hair is pulled back in a twist. Somehow, she looks effortlessly mysterious and desirable. Together, she and Mulder look like a matched set of brunette paranormal-fighting action figures.
Despite herself, Scully suddenly feels small and silly in her overtly sexy dress, as if she’s been wearing a mask and someone has just ripped it off to reveal the short, freckled girl underneath. She turns away from the dance floor before Mulder sees her, but not before catching a glimpse of smug satisfaction in Diana’s eyes as the two of them continue to sway.
The whole scene reminds her entirely too much of their case with Phoebe Green when she’d stumbled across she and Mulder dancing in that Boston hallway. She had felt jealous then and that had confused her. They’d only been partnered a few months at that point, and rationally, she had known there was no reason for the possessiveness she felt watching them.
But now? Now, things are different. She thinks they’re different, aren’t they? There have been no conversations, just dozens of gestures, heroic rescues, and drugged-up confessions of love. Haven’t there?
She wants to leave. All the enjoyment of the party she’d been reveling in moments before has been snuffed out as surely as if she had been a bright candle.
“Good to see you, Agent Scully,” a voice interrupts from behind her.
“Sir, good to see you too,” Scully turns, greeting A.D. Skinner as he moves to intercept her. “Merry Christmas.”
Skinner purses his lips and fumbles to shake her hand, momentarily unsure if this is the right move or of how exactly he should be greeting her in this social setting. Scully shakes his hand and raises up on her toes to place a quick friendly kiss on his cheek. This seems to unsettle him more and it takes a moment for him to look her straight in the eye.
“It’s always nice to see you at Bureau functions, Agent,” Skinner continues once he’s recovered his power of speech. “When was the last time you came to one of these?”
“I don’t remember, Sir. It’s been too long.”
“Have you seen Agent Mulder here?” Skinner asks, assuming as everyone does, that if she’s here, he must be too.
“I have.” Scully replies bluntly, offering no further comment.
Skinner tilts his head waiting for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. In the background, the band has ended the song and moved into a slow, moody version of “White Christmas.”
“Would it be inappropriate to invite you to dance, Agent Scully?” Skinner asks.
“I don’t think so, Sir,” she smiles. “Just this once.”
Skinner offers his arm and she takes it casually, the two of them moving back toward the music. Just as they are about to step onto the dance floor, a fast-moving Mulder almost collides with them.
“Scully!” He grabs her by the wrist, trying to turn her toward him, but she won’t meet his gaze. “Where did you go?”
She looks up at him coolly. “I didn’t go anywhere, Mulder. Where did you go?”
“Fox?” Diana now steps up beside him. “Let’s get something to eat, why don’t we?”
Scully looks slowly from Mulder to Diana and then back again, her eyes narrowing as if in accusation.
“Excuse me, Mulder, but Skinner and I were about to dance.” She lowers her arm from Mulder’s grasp and steps onto the floor. Mulder watches as she brings her arms up around Skinner’s neck and swallows hard as Skinner places one hand at the curve of her waist and the other in the center of her bare upper back.
Mulder opens his mouth to try to explain, but before he can make a sound, Skinner has turned her away into the small crowd of dancers. Mulder’s hands drop to his side and Skinner throws him an exasperated look that says either, “get it together, dude” or “lost your chance, buddy.”
“Fox?” Diana interrupts again. “Fox, are you coming?”
“No Diana,” Mulder replies shortly, “I’m not. I’m getting out of here.”