From: Moonrock66 Date: 28 Dec 1999 00:54:06 GMT Subject: NEW: Gumdrops (1/1) Title: Gumdrops Author: Georgia Email: Moonrock66@aol.com Category: MSR Rating: PG Distribution: Freely Spoilers: Through Millennium Summary: The missing Christmas celebration. Author's notes: I've been out of town, so here's my late contribution to the tasty feast of Millennium stories. Eek...it also wants to be FBI formal fic. I'd make excuses except that I've always had a soft spot for the old FBI ball and well, tis the season.... ------------------------------- Scully, or anyone who knows me well (i.e., Scully), will tell you that my mind doesn't necessarily function in a logical, linear manner. My thoughts circle around each other, one feeding the next like a conversation where you have to backtrack to remember what you were originally talking about. One minute I was thinking about spinach and how I don't really like it and why does every holiday dip have to have that green goop in it. The next I was pondering the true definition of insanity and the design of the 1989 Mercury Cougar. It's all relevant, I guess. ---------------------- The FBI Holiday party is not the big deal everyone makes it out to be. The men don't wear tuxes. The women aren't decked out in crushed velvet or emerald satin. For the most part, everybody just heads over directly from work, wearing the same nondescript suit they'd worn hours earlier while filling out expense reports or setting up a stakeout. Jackets do come off and ties are loosened. And of course there's always that one person who has to wear the Santa hat or decides to opt for sequins. But it's really more like the cafeteria with liquor than a gala event. I'd never had any desire to go. Until I saw the pictures from last year. ----------------- Powdered sugar or chocolate. That was the important decision occupying my mind as I lumbered into the third floor breakroom that morning. At first I just rolled my eyes, wondering what geek had felt the need to tack the party pictures up on the bulletin board. I didn't even stop to look. With my mind firmly leaning toward chocolate, I approached the vending machine. Ah yes, E6. Nothing like a little chocolate wax for nutritional value. I punched the E and was about to hit 6 when something familiar caught my eye. The slope of her shoulders. A flash of red. Top right photo. I moved closer barely recognizing what I saw. She was relaxed. Happy. Head thrown back in a laugh. Smiling that smile I'd only seen a handful of times in seven years. Scully. Lit up like a Christmas tree for a roomful of strangers. For a minute I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. Why was she so happy? Whose arm was that in the corner of the picture? Was Scully always like this, so carefree, when she was out of my presence? Maybe, I rationalized, it was just because of Christmas. Or too much yuletide punch. Regardless, I made up my mind right then never to miss the holiday party again. To see that look on Scully's face for ten seconds would be worth any party torture I might endure. I turned to retrieve my donuts. Damn it. I had hit E5. Fucking Cheetos. ----------------- So there I stood, almost a year later, pressed against the bar in the Marriott's Capitol Ballroom, trying to understand what all the hoopla was about. I only knew about twelve people in the room. And out of the twelve, I liked two of them. Skinner included. It was everything I had expected in an office party. Boring shop talk. Tall tales. And an excuse to push the boundaries of office etiquette. If I wasn't crazy, Agent A hadn't removed his hand from Agent B's ass all night. Speaking of which, where the hell was Scully? I motioned to the bartender for another drink. If she didn't show in another 15 minutes, I was leaving. Whether I missed head tossed back laughter or not. At least I had a new answer. If she ever asked my thoughts on dying again, I wouldn't have to bring up the Ice Capades. God damn it. There she was. I hardly ever got to just look at her. She really was amazing. She was still wearing the black suit she'd had on when I left her, though she'd opened the coat and unbuttoned a button or two on her blouse. And she'd tussled up her hair so that it fell across her face, reminding me of how she always ran her fingers through it after a windy chase. That berry red was different, too. Scully's lips were one thing I knew. I'd thought that maybe I'd just watch her for a few minutes. See how she interacted with people when I wasn't around. I convinced myself that I wasn't spying. But I should've known it wouldn't work. Scully scanned the room slowly, nodding to a few people as she stepped up to the buffet table. I slid out of sight behind Agent A, but I could feel it coming. We reached the point long ago where we could sense each other. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. Yep, her eyes on mine. Five seconds. Not bad. The blue sparkled, surprised for a moment. And then, she turned away. And I sighed. Scully came to this thing every year. And every year she asked if I wanted to go with her. I guess she was just being polite. I was about to find out. "Mulder?" she approached me quizzically, her eyebrow reaching for her hairline. "Don't worry Scully," I said polishing off my drink. "Nothing's wrong." And I saw the corner of her mouth raise in that half-frown she gives me when she doesn't understand. "You said you didn't want to come." "I changed my mind." "Why?" "Why not? Does it bother you that I'm here?" She waited a second too long to answer. "No." Oh. "I was going to leave soon anyway," I heard myself explain. "Just pretend like I'm not here." She stared up at me for a moment, again with the frown. Then she answered in her best Scully "fine" and turned to rejoin the party. Don't you love a bartender with a sense of humor? A fresh drink, now a double, was waiting on me when my sorry, shot down ass fell back on the barstool. Ba fucking humbug. It was official. I hated Christmas. I would drink my drink and leave. In the meantime, Scully managed to mingle her way into the laugh a minute little group in the corner. Boy that guy must've been a real comedian. He had Scully grinning two seconds after she walked up. Better laugh while you can buddy, I chuckled to myself. Lay your hand on Scully's shoulder one more time and she might rearrange an organ or two. But to my amazement, when his hand brushed her arm again, Scully actually leaned toward him. Then her head dropped back with a full belly laugh. The expression that had transfixed me before, now made me nauseous. I passed her on my way out. "Merry Christmas, Scully," I wished emotionless to the back of her head as I stomped out of the room. You're an idiot. That was my only thought as I shoved through the revolving door. A huge idiot. She caught my elbow before I hit the stairs. I turned to meet her questioning eyes, wandering in her pained expression for a moment before I saw her shiver. She didn't stop for her coat. "Scully it's freezing out here," I scolded, pulling her inside my coat. "Why didn't you want to come with me?" she whispered. Shit. I was a bigger idiot than I thought. "I...Scully...that's not it." She shook her head. "Then why?" "I don't know," I paused. I wasn't sure how to explain this. "I....I guess I just wanted to see how you were with other people. To see the real you." I think I expected a heartfelt answer to my heartfelt confession. That's not what I got. She tried to pull herself from my grasp. "Mulder, that's ridiculous. You know me better than anybody on this planet. You saw that picture, didn't you?" I nodded, holding her tighter. I couldn't keep the self-pity from my voice. "You don't laugh like that with me, Scully." "No Mulder, I don't. But did you ever stop to think that I might get nervous and silly and drunk like everyone else?" In about 45 different fantasies. "I take what we do seriously," she continued. "I know I overdo it sometimes, but this is all I have. You're all I have." 'Really?' my eyes begged for confirmation. 'REALLY' hers said in reply. I wanted to cry. "What about the Mr. Saturday Night?" I joked, opting for humor. She rolled her eyes. "Please," she groaned. I smirked in relief, letting my hands stroke up her back. "You want your Christmas present, Mulder?" came her peace offering. "It's in my car. I was going to stop by in the morning on the way to the airport." "Ah, Scully. Yours isn't ready." Actually I just hadn't worked up the nerve to deliver it. "It's okay, Mulder. You didn't have to get me anything. Just let me get my coat." We walked back down the street to the Hoover in silence, my upper arm brushing against her back. She popped the trunk when we finally reached her car and pulled a shiny green package from a full shopping bag. "Merry Christmas, Mulder," she said, placing it in my hand. I tried to be careful with the paper. It looked like she'd put some effort into the job. But I ended up getting impatient and ripping it open. A book. 1999 American League Box Scores. "I thought you'd like it" she explained. "With the Yankees and all." Baseball and Scully. Life didn't get any better. "It's perfect," I said taking her hand. "Thank you." "You're welcome," she breathed, smiling an uncharacteristically toothy Scully grin. My eyes locked on her mouth. Her lips. Her teeth. And the tiny piece of spinach caught in between them. I couldn't keep myself from staring. God. She'd probably be embarrassed. But at that moment, I wanted that spinach more than anything else in my life. I wanted to personally remove it. With my tongue. I took a step closer, leaning in over her, watching as her eyes widened, the pupils dilating. Her familiar scent ran through me as her breath hit my neck. And I couldn't do it. I couldn't move. How many times would I let this moment pass? Stand there thinking Scully's lips were just going to magically appear on mine because I stood looking at her? Wasn't doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results one definition of insanity? I took a deep breath and inched toward her. To my amazement, she didn't move away. Instead, her mouth opened and her eyes slipped shut. I let my eyes follow. Was that Jingle Bells? It was. From the radio of a 1989 Mercury Cougar that came flying around the corner. I've always hated that car. We both jumped back a step, amusement shinning in our eyes. Her tongue came out to wet her lips, and then, her smile fell. I knew she'd felt the spinach. Her face reddened as she looked away. "I've got an early flight," she said finally, avoiding my eyes. I dropped a kiss on her cheek before she got in the car. And for some reason as she drove away, I was thinking about gumdrops. ------------------- "Merry Christmas, by the way Scully." "Thank you. Merry Christmas to you too." We hadn't spoken since the parking garage. Scully spent Christmas in San Diego. I spent it on my couch. I went back in my thought process, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember why I thought of gumdrops. Samantha and I always got them in our Christmas stockings. Stuffed right down in the toe. Red was my favorite. Prickly and sweet on the outside. Soft, pliant, and gooey inside. I climbed out of the grave and didn't give it another thought until a few minutes after midnight. ------------------ I kissed her. I actually did it. One minute I was watching the ball drop. The next I bent down and smoothed my lips over hers. I didn't even hesitate. Neither did she. The kiss itself wasn't much. Innocent and sweet. But the smile that lit her face made the party photo a forgotten memory. She was literally beaming. So why was I still insecure? "The world didn't end." Her face fell. What did she think I meant by that? I take it back. It did end Scully. It did. "No it didn't." She turned away. I wanted to say something. To make her understand. I meant that in a good way. Nothing changed. We were still who we were. "Merry Christmas, Scully," was all I managed. "Merry Christmas, Mulder," she returned with the barest of grins. I lead her from the room, my arm taking its new spot around her shoulder instead of pushing from behind. It's time we went side by side. "Did you like your Christmas present?" I asked in my best half flirting tone as I pushed open the door. "Mmm," she said, not looking up at me. We continued down the hall in silence. Maybe this wasn't what she wanted. Thank God I expected to chicken out and bought a back up. "I got you a real present," I stammered. "It's in the car." Right before we reached the hospital door, she turned to me. "If you don't mind, I'd like to keep this one," she whispered dryly, her downcast eyes finally rising to meet mine, her smile not far behind. This time her mouth found mine, opening softly. And I remembered why I was thinking about gumdrops. end. ------------------------------ Happy Holidays! Make my season bright with some feedback? Moonrock66@aol.com