Subject: Christmas Story - pt 2

From: [email-masked] (Deborah Davis)
Date: 9 Dec 1994 00:38:28 -0700

There is no X-file case in this tale; it's strictly a
relationship story, and it's also bound to disappoint anyone
who's looking for a Mulder-Scully romance.  I just got to
thinking about what can happen to friendships (especially
male-female ones?) as friends' lives change over time.  This
was the result.  I wrote it in one long sitting, which has
NEVER happened for me before, and which serves as my excuse
for any lapses in grammer or spelling.

This is my first posting to this group, and my first fanfic
ever.  I'd love to hear from anyone who has an opinion on
it.  Please let me know if I bungle any of the technical
aspects of posting.
Address comments and flames to:  [email-masked]

The characters are, of course, the property of Chris Carter
and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and no copyright infringement
is intended.

                                                           A
CHRISTMAS STORY -- Part 2

     Christmas day had filled the Scully house with the
smells of cooking and the sound of children's laughter.  The
newest grandchild was screaming for a bottle, Christmas
carols were playing on the stereo,and Margaret and her older
daughter were at work in the kitchen when they heard a car
in the drive.  Melissa looked out the window and smiled with
satisfaction.  "Mom, we need to set another place for
dinner."
     She met him at the door. "If it isn't the Grinch"
     "If it isn't the Little Drummer Girl," he answered,
handing her a shopping bag of presents.
     "You shopped." She peered into the bag. "Football
videos for everyone, right?"
     "Only for those who were good this year."
     Two small boys careened past them as they entered the
living room.
     "My nephews," she explained.
     "We got 'Alien Combat'," one of them said, brandishing
a video game cassette.  "Will you play with us?"
     "Absolutely.  It sounds like my line of work." Mulder
said, then he caught his breath.  Out of the kitchen
steppped a little girl with long dark hair and a velvet
dress.
     "This is Dana's stepdaughter, Sarah," said Melissa.
"Where's Dana, honey?" she asked the child.
     "With Daddy."
     Mulder kept looking at the child, dismayed.  There
wasn't any resemblance really, just the dark hair, and a red
velvet dress like the one generations of girls must have
worn at Christmas.  It just brought back memories he didn't
want right now.  He turned away from her and looked down a
hallway -- and saw Dana.
     She was half-turned away from him, talking to someone -
- Daniel, probably -- in the bedroom behind her.  Mulder
found himself studying her.  Was he expecting her to look
the same, or different?  He wasn't sure.  Her hair was about
the same, but the dress was like nothing he'd seen her wear
at work, all soft folds of green velvet, a grown-up version
of Sarah's.  All the same, he noticed the crisply starched
collar and cuffs, the tightly cinched belt; it was as though
the neat, precise Sully-persona he knew was working its way
through all that uncharacteristic velvet and lace.
     "Go ahead and rest; I'll call you for dinner," he heard
her say.  Then she closed the door, and for a moment, her
shoulders slumped and he saw the strain in her face.  He
also saw the moment that she straightened up and put it
aside.  Then she turned and saw him.
     For a moment, she looked so shocked he wondered if this
had been a good idea.
     "Mulder?  What --"
     "Melissa invited me."
     "Oh."  She smiled slightly.  "This must be my Christmas
surprise."
     "Told you it wasn't a scarf this year," Melissa called
from over his shoulder somewhere.  He could hear her herding
the children out of the living room to some other part of
the house.  Dana came down the hall to join him.  There was
an awkward moment when they met, as if neither of them were
sure what greeting was appropriate.  He thought for a moment
she was going to hug him.  They settled for grabbing each
others' hands.
     "How have you been?"
     "Fine.  How are you?"
     "Fine," she said insincerely.  "California is fine."
     "How is Daniel?"
     She read his gaze and dropped his hands.  "Melissa must
have told you."
     "Yes.  I'm sorry."
     "Well"  She looked away.  "We're coping."
     He felt he should say something more, but he didn't
know what it was.   He felt the urge to touch her, caress
her shoulder or her face, but after all this time he no
longer felt comfortable doing that.  Miserably, he stood
with his hands in his pockets.  He didn't want to continue
this stilted little conversation they were having; it made
them seem like strangers.  An uncomfortable silence
stretched between them.
     "It was nice of you to come," she said at last, as if
he were some stranger who'd shown up at a funeral.  "I know
how you hate these family things.  It's all right if you
don't want to stay."
     The polite dismissal in her voice cut into him.  How
had he let this happen, he wondered desparately.  More
importantly, how could he fix it?  He suddenly realized how
badly he wanted to fix it.
     "Scully, I  . . . need . . . to apologize.  Not just
because I didn't stay in touch, but . . . because . . . I
tried to make it hard for you to leave."  At last, he'd
found the words he needed.  "It wasn't fair."  He held his
breath.
     "No, it wasn't."  Then she met his eyes. "but it's all
right."
     "It is?"
     "It is now."  This time she smiled, not the teasing
grin he was used to, but the rare and radiant full smile.
He started breathing normally again and smiled back.  "I
missed you."  The words were out before he knew he was going
to say them.  She smiled again, wrapped her arm around his,
and lead him toward the sofa.
     "Now I want to hear how your new partner is working
out."
     "Salter?  Oh, I wore him out.  You know, they just
aren't making partners like they used to."
                               ***
     It *was* all right, he decided as the day wore on, even
the family dinner, family jokes, and the nephews who
demanded he play with them.  His presents went over well;
most of them were just generic: tins of cookies for the
adults, action figures and paint sets for the kids, a book
for Daniel.  He'd bought scarves for Scully and her sister,
one short, soft, forest green wool, and one long silk
paisley with fringe.
     "Well done," Melissa told him.  She'd been shooting him
looks of approval all day, and he wasn't sure how he felt
about it.  She made him nervous, he realized.  It was one
thing to have Dana know him so well after all they had been
through.  Melissa seemed to know him better than she should
on short acquaintance.  It made him feel uncomfortably
transparent.
     "Tell me something," he said under the hum of family
conversation.  "Did we meet by chance the other night, or
were you looking for me?"
     "Sheer serendipity, Mulder.  You can call it chance if
you want to."
     "But you call it -- what? -- Fate?" he asked, amused.
     "I believe things happen for a purpose.  Energies
converge.  I think you believe that, too, when you're not in
denial."  She handed him a small package.  "This is for you.
I didn't tell anyone you were coming, but I had hope."
     He opened the box and sniffed at the contents.  "Should
I arrest myself for possessing this?"
     "It's tea, Mulder.  The kind you drink.  I had my
herbalist make it up especially for you.  It's good for
insomnia."
     "It looks like lawn clippings."
     "Closed minded, isn't he?"  Melissa said to her sister.
     "It's a selective thing.  He believes in aliens, but
not herb tea."
     They were laughing at him, and he was actually enjoying
it, until Sarah started to sing.  A little girl's piping
voice, singing "Silent Night."  It threw him back over 20
years.
     ("Fox, listen to me; everyone listen.  I know all the
words!"  And Sam's little girl voice, high and sweet and
full of Christmas excitement. . . )
     "Mulder, are you all right?"  There was a hand on his
arm.  The words and the gesture were so familiar, he
expected Dana, and was surprised to find it was Melissa.
     "Yeah."
     She studied his face.  "It's all right to feel what
you're feeling."
     "Melissa . . ."
     "Ok, no homily this time," she held up a hand to stop
his protests.  "I just meant that it's natural to miss
someone at Christmas.  I just wanted to know if you were all
right."
     "I'm fine."  And, surprisingly, he was.
     Not long afterward, he decided to leave, and went
looking for his coat.  Opening what he thought was a closet
off the hallway, he startled Daniel, who was seated at a
large desk in a room Mulder figured must have been Admiral
Scully's study.
     "Oh!  Sorry," he said, as Daniel dropped the small tape
recorder he'd been dictating into.
     "It's OK.  You just caught me in the act.  Working on
Christmas; Dana would give me hell."
     "Well, I promise not to tell her."  He was about to
back out, but Daniel gestured him in.
     "Have you got a moment?"
     "Sure."
     Carefully, Daniel retrieved the recorder from the
desktop and turned it off.  From the way he held it, Mulder
could see he had trouble using his fingers.  A heavy-looking
cane rested between his knees.
     "What are you working on?" he asked, so he wouldn't
seem to be scrutinizing the man's disabiliites.
     "I had an idea for a book that I needed to get down."
Daniel made a face at the recorder.  "I hope I can get used
to this dictating business; I'm used to thinking and
revising as I type.  I like to see my words."  He waved away
Mulder's murmurs of sympathy.  "That's not what I wanted to
talk about.  Did Dana tell you we're planning on moving back
East?"
     "No," Mulder said with some surprise.
     "Well . . . it's still in the works, but I'm sure it's
what we want to do.  We want to be near our families; I want
Sarah near her grandparents.  It's funny how your
perspective can change; that lab I was sure I couldn't live
without will just have to get along without me now.  But my
point is about Dana.  She has this idea she'll take a leave
of absence, maybe quit working entirely, to help me.  I
don't want that."
     "No?"
     "No!  I didn't marry her to make her my nursemaid, and
I can hire an assisstant if I need one.  Besides, I have
work to do.  I'm not going to get any writing done with her
hovering and scolding.  So I want your help."
     "My help?"
     "I want you to help get her back to work.  Tire her up
and drag her in if you have to. "
     "I doubt I can get Scully to do anything she doesn't
want to do."
     "I'm not so sure about that.  Anyway, I don't think she
knows what she wants in this case.  Or she knows, but she's
doing what she thinks I need.  But she's wrong.  Tell her
you need her help.  Tell her aliens are rearranging your
furniture, I don't know!  Just help me convince her to do
what we both know she's happiest doing."
     "I'll try."
     "Good."  Daniel grinned.  "I have faith in you. .   By
the way, how long have you been seeing Melissa?"
     "Seeing . . .?  I'm not."
     He must have looked shocked; Daniel laughed.  "My
mistake -- I think!  Go get started on Dana, so I can finish
this damned dictating before she catches me."
     Out in the hall, Mulder located the closet, and
retrieved his coat.  Before he could put it on, Melissa
appeared and relieved him of it.  "You won't need that just
yet.  I want to go for a walk later."
     "A walk?"  Why did this woman always catch him off
balance?
     "To look at the stars.  It's the way I like to end
Christmas.  I just have to help get the kids to bed first."
She was gone with the coat before he could protest.  "I am
in the hands of Scullys," he thought.  "There is no escape."
     He sat alone in the living room for a while, watching
the lights on the tree, listening to the sounds of children
being put to bed, and adults retreating to their rooms.
Margaret Scully looked in on him once.  "Oh, Fox, you're
still here.  There's a bed made up for you in the guest
room; Dana can show you. She's in the kitchen.  Good night
and Merry Christmas!"
     Mulder headed for the kitchen, and found Dana loading
the dishwasher.  She looked worn out.
     "Scully!  I finally get to see you do something
domestic!"
     She smiled.  "I was thinking of the year my dad gave
mom this machine as a Christmas present."
     "Oooh, how romantic."
     "It was, actually.  It was his way of pledging that
they were finally settling down, after all those years of
moving from one Navy base to another."
     "I take it back; it's a very romantic dishwasher."  He
moved to help her load.  "Are you all right?" he asked
softly.
     "Isn't that usually my line?  I'm fine."  She didn't
look up, but he could hear the unshed tears in her voice
"It's just that it's so hard to see someone you love . . .
struggle."
     "I know."  Now, it was easy to put a hand on her
shoulder, to brush a stray hair out of her eyes.  "He's a
great guy, Scully."
     "It means a lot that you think so."
     For a moment, they stared at each other, smiling.
Enough had been said.  He went back to loading dishes.
     "So, can you come into the office tomorrow, Scully?  I
have something I want you to see."
     "Tomorrow?  The day after Christmas?"
     "Does crime take a holiday? I need your professional
opinion on something."
     "Tomorrow I promised to take Sarah skating."
     "You ice skate?"
     "I had a few lessons as a kid."
     "Ah, a budding Dorothy Hamil."
     "I preferred to play hockey with my brothers."
     "A budding Wayne Gretzky.  I should have known." He
cocked his head, looking at her from a different angle.  "I
keep forgetting; you're someone's mother now."
     She laughed out loud this time.  "It's true.  Things
really have changed."
     "Not all things."
     "No, not all things," she agreed.  The clear affection
in her blue-green eyes warmed him.  "I could come Tuesday."
     "I'll dust.  There's a lot of room in that basement
these days, Scully."
     Before she could answer, an impatient tapping at the
window made them both jump.  Melissa stood outside, holding
his coat.
     "I forgot; she wants to go for a walk."
     Dana nodded.  "Does it every Christmas; it's become a
tradition.  When we were girls, she used to say she was
saying good night to the stars."
     Mulder gave an exaggerated sigh.  "We're probably going
to read their auras.  You coming?"
     "I wasn't invited this year."  Dana looked amused.
"You know, " she said, looking out at her sister, "this is
one thing that may take some getting used to . .."
     "For you and me both." he said wryly.
     He left her laughing as he went to join the waiting
woman.
     
     THE END