From: keri40980@aol.com (Keri 40980) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Snow Daze 1/2 Date: 25 Dec 1995 23:10:22 -0500 Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and the other characters you recognize belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and Fox Television. No infringement is intended. I met MaryKate after reading and responding to her creative story 'Phone Tag'. So, several months later, we're writing together. Hope you like it; it just kind of popped into our heads, it being December and snowing and a few days from Christmas d:^) Yeah, well, Keri kept bugging me about writing a story with her . I really enjoyed her story, "Reunited" (everybody should read it!) and thought it would be a great idea to write together, especially about X-mas! All in all, I'm glad I made a good friend. Thanks, Keri. 'Red Shoe Diaries' is property of Showtime. 'It's a Wonderful Life' is Frank Capra's movie, so we suppose it belongs to him. 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' belongs to Dr. Seuss and is a Cat in the Hat production! Comments, ideas, flames (we can take it), and constructive criticism can be sent to either address and we'll make sure the other one hears about your response: robinson@htp.net --or-- Keri 40980@aol.com This story starts off on December 22 of this year, with Christmas in mind. We'll adjust our writing to follow the show's progress. SNOW DAZE pt. 1 BY: Keri Gontarek and MaryKate Robinson "How high would you say the ceiling to my apartment is?" Fox Mulder frowned, thinking about the question. "About . . . nine and a half feet?" "Okay, good. How does an eight-foot tree sound?" "Absolutely ridiculous." Dana Scully folded her arms across her chest and sighed, her breath coming out a white and smoky blur in front of her face. "And just what does that mean?" "Well, look at it this way. You are a single woman of thirty-something who's buying an eight-foot pine tree to put in her apartment for three more days. You're barely over five feet tall! No one will see it, the only presents under it will be your own--" "--and Clyde's," she interrupted. "And Clyde's," he corrected swiftly. "I'll leave the tree up until New Year's, when you'll help me take it down." "Oh, joy . . . " The two agents agents were standing in Fred's Tree Lot, examining the remaining pines. They had just spent two hours at an FBI Christmas party and were still wearing their formal outfits, covered by large parkas to protect them from the whipping wind and the lightly falling snow. Mulder shivered as Scully studied more trees. The wind chill factor must have been two million below zero, and here he was, standing out in the freezing cold wearing a tuxedo and a cold weather jacket that went down to his knees. Of course Scully was colder. Her knees were shaking, legs covered only by pantyhose. She was wearing a maroon velvet dress that almost went down to her knees. Over it she wore a fur jacket, the hood pulled over her head, protecting her hair. He had just decided that they should forget the tree and go out for some hot chocolate when she and a man came over to him. The man was carrying a large tree. "Where do you want this?" Scully frowned. "Well, we don't have a pickup . . . " Mulder almost choked when he realized that they had come in *his* Ford Taurus, the one he had just had cleaned only *yesterday* from the last adventure they had undertaken for the FBI. "Gee, don't you think that tree is a little bit big?" She glanced at it suspiciously. "It's only six feet tall. If I get a chair, I can reach the top." "No, no . . . *width*, Scully, *width*." That did seem to be a problem. She suddenly came up with an idea. "We'll just lay it on the roof!" He rolled his eyes. "Why don't we just get a different one? One that's tied up already." She stood akimbo and glared at him. "*I* *want* *this* *tree*," she growled. Then she turned to the man with the tree, who looked rather scared. "Do you have a pickup we could borrow?" "Right in back," he answered quickly. "I'll get it ready." She rubbed her gloved hands together as he walked off. "Good." As it just so happened, Scully rode in the pickup with the man, and Mulder drove his car. He felt strange because he was following a tree. The pine Scully had chosen took up the entire back end of the truck, so all Mulder could see was a huge tree in front of him on the road. A few of the needles and once an entire limb landed on the windshield, and he was forced to use the wipers to get it off. When they reached her apartment, the man didn't wait for a tip; he put the tree on the ground and drove off quickly. That left the two agents to figure out a way to get the tree *in* the building. "What now?" Mulder asked, shivering next to Scully. "We have to get it inside." "No kidding. How?" "I don't know. Backwards, maybe, so we don't break the branches?" He neglected to tell her that half of the tree had landed on his car as he grabbed the trunk and headed into the building backwards. She supported the rest of it, and they finally got it through. "Okay . . . " he began. "Now into your apartment." "Shouldn't be hard. Do the same thing." He grabbed the trunk again and, once she had opened it, pushed through the door. He stepped on something, and that something yelped loudly. Scully gasped and dropped her half of the tree. "Oh, Clyde!" she cried, picking up the fluffy, little pooch that had ran out of the apartment to her whining. "Poor baby!" Mulder, inside the apartment, was struggling. The tree had suddenly gotten very heavy. "Scully," he groaned, feeling his grasp weaken. "Help . . . " He released the trunk, and it landed on the floor with a loud thump. Scully, in the hallway holding the dog, glared at him. "Why did you drop the tree?" "I didn't drop it! *You* dropped it, which caused a chain reaction." "Mulder, I'm out here, nursing Clyde. You nearly broke his little feet." "How was I supposed to know he'd walk underneath me?" "Hey!" a neighbor yelled from the hallway. "Keep it down on here, will ya?" "Sorry," Scully apologized softly, setting Clyde on the floor and picking up her half. "Come on, Mulder." He grabbed the trunk, grumbling to himself, and dragged it inside. ______________________________ ______________________________ "Lift your end up, Scully." "You see, Mulder, there's this thing called 'height difference.' You are six feet, I am five two. Ergo, when I hold it up as far as I can, it does not meet your standards. Got it?" He made a whistling sound. "Okay, okay." He lowered the trunk to reach her height limitations. "What put you in a bad mood?" They had entered the apartment. "You." She dropped the tree in the middle of the living room. "I'm *trying* to get in the holiday mood here, which is pretty hard to do considering all that happened this year, and *you* keep ruining it." Mulder was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry, Scully. It's just that... well, after Samantha disappeared Christmas wasn't special anymore. I know this means a lot to you. I'll try to be better, I swear." It always made her cave in. Scully gave her partner a smile. "Thanks Mulder. Why don't you stay a bit and help me put up the tree?" Seeing his hesitation she added an incentive. "I'll make you coffee, just the way you like it - with a shot of Baileys." "Oh, you Irish know how to make a good liquor." He looked around. "Where did Clyde go?" "Don't know." Scully looked around. "Clyde?" No answer. "Mulder, why's the door open?" "Well, it would be kind of hard to close it when you are carrying a tree." He realized his mistake. "You don't think..." "Yes, I do." She grabbed her coat. "That dog just made a break for it. Come on, Mulder, we have a dog-search to conduct." They made their way outside. It seemed as if the temperature had dropped another ten degrees, as well as wind picking up and the snow increasing. Willing himself to make an effort for Scully's sake, he looked around. "Where do you think he would go?" "He likes those bushes over there." She pointed to a scratchy looking bush, near the building. "You're not asking me..." She gave him The Look. "You lose my dog, you crawl on the ground." Scully watched as Mulder lowered himself on the white earth. He tried to ignore the cold wetness seeping through his coat and pants, but with no avail. He called back to his partner. "I know I said I would be good, Scully, but this is really pushing my holiday spirit." A voice traveled to his ear. "Just do it, Mulder." He groaned. Not only was he cold and soaked, the bush was actually more painful than it looked. Every movement caused the prickly needles to pierce his skin, creating pain in places he never knew about. "Clyde?" He finally crawled into the little space that looked like the dog's nesting area. No dog. Mulder slowly crawled backwards out of the bush. "No Clyde there, Scully." He straightened, trying to brush the ever present needles off his coat. Scully was distraught. "Where do you think he went?" Mulder bit back the caustic remark and put his arm around her. "I'm sure he's fine, Scully. Why don't we go inside and dry ourselves off? Then we can look later on." "Okay." They walked back to her apartment, arm in arm. "Clyde!" The door opened to reveal a warm, dry, *comfortable* pooch sitting on the settee, looking at the two humans who entered his domain. Scully rushed to give her pet a hug, while Mulder plotted his revenge against the pet. He watched as owner and dog shared a heartfelt reunion, then interrupted with a loud "Ahem." "What is it, Mulder?" Scully was still coddling the dog in her arms. "Could you help me out here? I'm kind of dripping, while feeling pneumonia setting in." "Sorry." She carefully set the canine on the ground and took the wet coat from her partner. "Would you like me to dry your clothes? I think I have a pair of jeans and a Tee shirt you left over here the last time. Go and take a hot shower and everything will be ready when you get out." "Thanks." In the bathroom he stripped, passing the clothes out to his awaiting partner. The scalding hot water did much to ward off the chill in his bones (and remove the needles lodged in his skin), although the shot of Baileys would be the final touch to warm his body. He stepped from the shower to find his clothes folded neatly on the counter. Dressing quickly, he exited the bathroom to meet Scully in the kitchen. "Okay, Scully, I'm ready for my coffee now." He sat at the counter, looking like a child waiting for Santa. Hearing the yapping at his feet, Mulder kicked the dog. Feelings hurt, Clyde skulked out of the room. "Here we go." Scully had also changed. Like Mulder, she too dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, although he didn't seem to have the oversized pink fuzz bunny slippers. "Interesting choice of footwear, Scully. Why don't you wear them to the office?" "Hey, be quiet. These are really warm and comfortable. Want to try them on?" He looked up from his coffee cup and grimaced. "I don't really think that pink is my color." "I guess that means I have to return your Christmas present, then. Okay, Mulder, finish getting liquored up, and then you are going to help me put up the tree. You promised." He groaned. "Yes, I remember." Mulder finished the last drop of brown liquid and followed Scully to the living room. "Where do you want to put it?" "In the window." Living in the first apartment on the second floor, everyone would have the opportunity to see tree. Unfortunately, there was a couch in front of the window. "You don't want to move that, do you?" "Well, we'll have to to put the tree there." She went over to the sofa and picked up and edge. "Ready?" The two moved the couch to the other wall and set the tree stand in front of the window. Gently they set the tree into the red and green stand. Mulder held the tree while Scully screwed the pins into the trunk. Finished, they stood back to look at their creation. "It's crooked," Mulder pronounced. "No it's not." "Yes it is. Loosen the screw while I fix it." "No." He stared at her. "I went outside, looking for a dog that was inside, and crawled in the snow under a bush. I don't think a Christmas tree indoors is that much trouble." "Okay." She pulled the screw out, feeling Mulder pushing the tree to the right. The pin was replaced and she straightened. "*Now* it's crooked." He gazed at the tree. "Yep, you're right." After three more tries they both agreed that a slanted tree was better than none at all. Looking at his watch Mulder sighed. "After midnight. Sorry, Scully, gotta go. I hear Showtime is holding a 'Red Shoe Diaries' marathon." "I know how important that is. Help me decorate tomorrow?" she asked as she showed him out. "Sure." The two stopped at the outside door. The weather had gotten progressively worse, reaching the point where the road and Mulder's car could not be seen. At least ten inches of snow covered the ground (if there was one). Mulder gulped. "Scully, we have a problem." ______________________________ Oh, that's great! Brings back memories of mid-western snowstorms!> ______________________________ The two of them retreated to her apartment and shut the door. Scully went up to the window where the tree was and looked through the branches. "I can't believe we didn't notice it." "Of all the stupid times *not* to set my stupid VCR." Both pairs of eyes turned to Scully's nice home entertainment center sitting by the fireplace. The whole batch of blank video tapes lined the side of the cabinet with the glass door. The TV Guide sitting on the coffee table let Scully read what was on the channels that she had--which was every channel the cable company had, as well. They raced to the television set. He jumped over the couch, and she ran around it. Clyde hopped onto the coffee table and barked ferociously at Mulder, who froze in place, as Scully snatched the remote control and blocked the VCR. "Oh, Scully, *please* . . . " "I won't let you watch that in my house," she told him. "What we need to watch is . . . good, quality, *family* entertainment." He gulped. That didn't sound good. "I'd let my kids watch 'Red Shoe Diaries'." "Sit down." Clyde turned to her and sat on the table. Mulder flopped down on the couch, glaring at the dog. She slid a video into the VCR and pressed play. It was black and white, and there was a large bell ringing. He frowned. "This isn't Disney." She frowned and headed into the kitchen. "Hey, Scully, you're going to watch this, too, or I'll turn on Showtime." "I'll be there once I finish making popcorn." "Scully!" he yelled when he saw the title. "You're going to make me watch 'It's a Wonderful Life'?" "It's a wonderful movie." She grinned, carrying a beer to him. "Not funny." He took the beer gratefully. Clyde jumped to him and sniffed at the can. Mulder looked to make sure Scully was safely in the kitchen, then dumped some into the palm of his hand and let the little pooch lap it up. "There you go, dog. Drink and be merry." He laughed, taking a drink from the can. Clyde thought the liquid tasted funny but drank it anyway. When he was finished, he headed for Scully's bedroom, feeling slightly dizzy. Mulder watched the pomeranian stagger into Scully's room and laughed loudly. Scully came into the living room with the bowl of buttered popcorn. "You're not even watching the movie." "You're right; I'm not." He gave her a sorry look. "I will now, okay?" She smiled sweetly. "Hmm . . . what's that smell?" "Maybe your dog threw up." She frowned. "Where is Clyde, anyway?" "He'll find his way here. Now be quiet so I can watch this movie." She allowed him to put his arm around her, but she was still wondering what was wrong. She soon found out. Clyde came out of the bedroom an hour later and vomited all over Mulder's feet. Then the dog passed out. She couldn't figure out what was wrong. Nearly crying, she picked up the unconscious pup and set him gently on her pillow. She sniffled. "If it wasn't storming, I'd take him to the vet to see what's wrong." Mulder felt miserable. He probably killed the damn dog. "Um, Scully . . . I know what's wrong." She turned to him, her eyes red. "What happened?" "Well, I gave him some of my beer and . . . I guess he got a little drunk." Mulder could never have prepared for Scully's next move. The last thing he saw before blacking out was her fist coming into contact with his face. A faint humming of 'Silent Night' woke Mulder from his sleep. That, glass breaking, and Scully saying every colorful word in the book. "Damn bulb. Didn't like it anyway," he heard Scully mutter. The light that was shining on his face suddenly vanished. He opened his eyes to see Scully standing over him. "Oh, you're up." She stepped on his hand as she started for the kitchen, and he grunted. "Scully!" he spattered, sitting up, wincing when unbearable pain shot through his head. "You're violent this evening." "Violent? And you wonder why. You get my dog drunk, make my tree incredibly crooked, and drive me insane with your constant whining for your porno flicks." She peered down at him after returning. "And it isn't 'evening' any more. It's seven a.m." "Where have I been?" "Sleeping on my living room floor, that's where." She stepped on his hand again, and he grabbed her ankle, bringing her crashing into his lap. "Just what is your problem? Okay, so I never should've given Clyde some beer, but he should've come when he was called instead of making me crawl around under a damn bush." She just blinked at him and stood up. "There's some egg nog and gingerbread if you want some." "Ooh, the five star breakfast." He stood up slowly. "How's the weather?" "You're still stuck here, if that's what you mean." "No, I just want to know if I'm . . . " His voice lowered. " . . . still stuck here. Hmm." He dipped his finger in the frosting. "What are you doing, making Christmas cookies?" "Close. A gingerbread house." She hung a few more icicles on a branch. "You can help if you want." "How's Clyde?" he asked a while later, once he had found the egg nog. "Suffering from the doggie equivalent of a hangover." He took a sip of the beverage and raised his eyebrows. "What did you put in this--whiskey, brandy, or wine?" "D. All of the above." He sighed. "That's not good. No wonder it tastes so funny." He took a gulp anyway. "Well, you have to be thinking on my level. I figured that this storm isn't going to let up any time soon, and it struck me that I'd be cooped up with you . . . hence I put a hell of a lot of booze in the egg nog." She hung a bulb on one of the branches, and it fell off, landing on the floor with a crash. "Son of a bitch!" Mulder chuckled and went over to her. "See why my floors are carpeted?" He took another bulb and hung it up. It stayed there. "Be gentle." Together, they decorated the tree and were done by 8:30. At that time, Scully checked on Clyde while Mulder channel-surfed. "Hey!" She came into the living room, Clyde in her arms. "What is it?" "'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' is on! I love this movie." "Why--because you starred in it?" He paid her no mind as he began to speak along with the movie. "'The Grinch hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season. No, please don't ask why, no one quite knows the reason. It could be perhaps that his shoes were too tight. It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. But I think that the most likely reason of all may have been that his heart was two sizes too small.'" Scully chuckled, sitting next to him. "Well, Mulder, you're either into porno or cartoons." "Ever seen a porno cartoon?" "No. And I don't want to either." Clyde merely yawned. ______________________________ ______________________________ The half hour was up, and they sat back and smiled. "Okay, you were right Mulder. It was a great cartoon." That's not even the best one. Too bad that 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' isn't on." "I can't get the show on TV, but I can bring the music to you." She walked over to the stereo, selecting a CD and placing it in the player. Almost immediately the music of Vince Girabaldi and Schroeder floated throughout the living room. "What do you want to do next?" It was only nine in the morning, and already Mulder was bored. "Clean?" "No way. You've seen my apartment." "Wrap Christmas presents?" "I don't have any to wrap." "Well, you can help me wrap mine." Scully disappeared for a minute, then returned with three bags full of presents and wrapping paper galore. "I hope you're good at this." "Yeah, sure." One hour later, Mulder found out how hard. "Mulder!!!" "What?" he exclaimed innocently, holding out the wrapped package. "You don't like it?" "Where's the paper?" The Snoopy Sno-Cone machine she had bought for her niece Sally looked God Awful. Paper stuck haphazardly across the box gave an illusion of "wrapped" but not enough of one. "It was too short, and I didn't feel like wasting it, so I..." Scully groaned, putting her head in her hands. "Did you do all the presents like this?" "Yes." "Okay, get out." He started to say something but she kept on talking. "I am going to finish the wrapping. Go and do something constructive. Leave before I have to use bodily force." "You already have," Mulder replied, rubbing his jaw. He cleared the doorway before the crushed gift wrap hit him. * * * * * As soon as he left the room, he felt sorry. This year was rough on both of them, losing family members that meant so much. Even though her pain was greater, she was going out of her way to make his holiday a good one. Monday he was joining the rest of Scully's family in Norfolk to celebrate Christmas. The least he could do was try to do the same for his friend. He decided his course of action would be to make lunch. Refrigerator bare of all food, he looked outside. Pulling on his coat and putting Clyde's leash on, Mulder yelled a hasty goodbye to Scully and headed out to the convenience store three blocks away. * * * * * A door opened and then a crash. "Damn damn, *DAMN*!" The little dog raced into the apartment as Mulder dropped the packages. "Scully!" "What?" She raced to the foyer, only to be confronted by a dripping Mulder picking up the dropped bags. "I could use some help here." Scully stopped laughing long enough to pick up a bag. "Where did you go? I thought you were just taking Clyde for a walk." Shaking his head from the offensive snow he answered. "Seven-Eleven on Maple Drive. Funny how many people you meet in a 24 hour convenience store during the middle of a blizzard." They entered the kitchen, both dropping the bags on the counter. Mulder took off his coat, trying to warm himself in front of the space heater. "This doesn't work." "Oh, really? That kind of quick thinking must be inane only to geniuses." Seeing how much he looked like a drowned rat, Mulder's partner took pity on him. "I dried your clothes from last night. You can take *another* shower, put those clothes on, and I'll dry this outfit." "A tuxedo, Scully? Don't you think I'll be a little overdressed for the occasion?" Even as he said so he was shrugging out of the sweatshirt and heading for the bathroom. "Silly rabbit." Scully put away the food he had bought. Non-alcoholic champagne, international creamers, Ruffles, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and Spaghetti O's. "Unfortunately, this is the best that 7-11 has to offer." Making sure the clothes were placed inside the bathroom (trying hard not to peek), Scully lit the fireplace and sat there, listening to the soothing music. She heard Mulder sitting down next to her. "Very nice, Scully. This will really take the chill off." She turned to face him. "What were your Christmases like when you were a kid, Mulder?" He stared into the flames. "Before Samantha died, they were great. We would go to my grandmother's house on Christmas Eve and exchange presents. You know, the boring ones - underwear, socks, sweaters. Then we would get the toys on Christmas Day. Dad would play football with me in the backyard, snow or not, while Samantha and Mom started dinner. It was just the four of us. After the abduction, nothing was the same. Dad had to go away on Christmas, and my grandmother passed away. We still had presents, and Christmas dinner, but not like it had been. There was no joy anymore." "There were six of us. Everybody would come over Christmas Eve and we would have a big party. Then at eleven o'clock we headed over to Saint Joseph's for midnight mass. We lit candles and sang carols. When we arrived home we would open up our gifts and on Christmas we would go to my aunt and uncle's." "That's nice." Mulder suddenly had a need to be honest with his friend. "Sometimes I wish I had your family." "You are part of the family, Mulder." she smiled, then became grim. "Can I ask you a question, Mulder?" "Sure." "Do you believe in God?" "That was out of the blue. Anyway," He thought for a moment. "I believe in a higher power. I don't know whether it is God, or E.T., Barney, or what. My family was never religious." "Mine was. I attended religion classes every year until eigth grade. I made my confirmation, and even became a eucharistic minister. I don't know what happened to me, Mulder. I believed so strongly. Then I entered medical school and the F.B.I. So many things tested my beliefs. I saw deaths, horrible murders, what happened to myself and Missy, all those x-files. No humane God could ever do that to the world." She looked so lost, helpless even. "What about your experiences with Kevin Kryder?" "I felt something I hadn't in a long time. No matter what you say Mulder, it was a miracle. God chose me to protect Kevin, who was a messenger for Him. Finally some good was done in the world. Kevin was saved." "I don't understand, Scully. Do you believe now?" "I don't know!" She was softly crying, her dilemna understandable. "I want to, I do. I don't know if I have the faith anymore." Mulder leaned over and enveloped his partner in his arms. "Once you finish your search for the truth, Dana, you'll know. You'll know." They sat there silently, drawing strength from each other. ______________________________ End of part 1 . . . =========================================================================== From: keri40980@aol.com (Keri 40980) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Snow Daze 2/2 Date: 25 Dec 1995 23:18:59 -0500 Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and the other characters you recognize belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and Fox Television. No infringement is intended. I met MaryKate after reading and responding to her creative story 'Phone Tag'. So, several months later, we're writing together. Hope you like it; it just kind of popped into our heads, it being December and snowing and a few days from Christmas d:^) Yeah, well, Keri kept bugging me about writing a story with her . I really enjoyed her story, "Reunited" (everybody should read it!) and thought it would be a great idea to write together, especially about X-mas! All in all, I'm glad I made a good friend. Thanks, Keri. 'Miracle on 34th Street' is used in this part. It belongs to . . . Santa Claus (good an answer as any). Mulder's wonderful Christmas music is, as follows: "Santa Claus is Watching You" by Ray Stevens on his 'I Have Returned' album (MCA Records); "Santa Claus is Tapping Your Phone" I don't know who wrote it, but it came in the mail and I liked it! Comments, ideas, flames (we can take it), and constructive criticism can be sent to either address and we'll make sure the other one hears about your response: robinson@htp.net --or-- Keri 40980@aol.com SNOW DAZE pt. 2 BY: Keri Gontarek and MaryKate Robinson Mulder sighed. Scully was asleep in his arms on the couch. Clyde was snoring softly nearby. The television was turned to the Weather Channel. Right now, the meteorologist was ranting about the "heavy snowfall in the East, particularly in Washington, D.C., where it snowed a record-breaking two-and-a-half feet!" He frowned at the set. "Yeah, bud, but you ain't livin' it." He slid out from underneath Scully and poured himself another glass of egg nog. He would have to try to duplicate Scully's recipe some time. The telephone rang. He grabbed it before Scully fully awakened. "Hello?" "Oh, Fox . . . merry Christmas." He smiled. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Mrs. Scully." "Where's Dana?" "Well, she's asleep right now." "No, I'm not," came Scully's groggy voice from the living room. "Yes, you are," Mulder protested, handing her the cordless. "It's your mother." She turned it on. "Hi, Mom." "Happy holidays, Dana." "Thanks, Mom." "I heard the weather was atrocious! Are you going to make it down to Norfolk?" "I think we can manage," she said, giving Mulder a shy smile. He grinned back and continued to sip his beverage. "What's Fox doing at your house at this hour?" She glanced at Mulder in the kitchen. He was filling another glass. "Getting drunk." Mulder picked up the other line. "That is not true. I am merely indulging in the holiday spirits." "Spirits is right!" Scully added. "*I* wasn't the one who put rum, brandy, *and* wine in the egg nog." He hung up again. "Dana, you put all three in?" "Well . . . yeah. I'm stuck with Mulder. He's been here for . . . " She glanced at her watch with a sigh. " . . . twenty-two long hours." "I heard that!" Mulder hollered, on his way to the bathroom. Margaret smiled slightly. "Well, at least you're having fun." "That's a matter of opinion. My tree is crooked, my bulbs are broken, my dog is intoxicated, and my car is covered with snow." "Oh." There was a crash on the other end. She sighed. "Looks like your bulbs aren't the only ones broken. Sally just collided with the tree on her tricycle. I'd better go." "Okay, Mom. Love you. Bye-bye." She hung up and shook her head. Sally was always breaking things. She had inherited her father's klutziness. Scully's youngest brother had always broken things, usually unintentionally, sometimes on purpose. Like the time he had decapitated Scully's favorite Barbie doll. Or unloosened the screw on the school bully's bike wheel. Hopefully Sally got most of her mother's common sense and peaceful personna. "Dinner is served," Mulder announced with a butler's accent. He handed her a bowl of Spaghetti O's and a glass of wine. They sat around the table in front of the fireplace. She smiled. "You know, Mulder, this hasn't been *too* terrible of a Christmas weekend." "No, it hasn't." He sneezed. "All except for the cold I think I caught while crawling around under the bush and going to get dinner." She nodded. "I guess we're going to have to buy more food and some cold medicine later, eh?" "Perhaps." While they ate, they watched the newest version of 'Miracle on 34th Street'. Scully rolled her eyes through it, and Mulder watched with the awe and wonder of a child. "Now *that* is better than any 'It's a Wonderful Life'." She shook her head. "That guy just *happened* to look like Santa Claus." They headed for the kitchen and put their dishes in the dishwasher. "You mean you don't believe?" She frowned. "And that surprises you?" "Scully, Scully . . . Santa is real." "Santa is a legend. I was listening to the radio, and there was a story about how Santa Claus's image came about. It's the self-portrait of an advertiser." "And where did you hear this?" "Paul Harvey." Mulder wrinkled his nose. "Who do you think brings your presents on Christmas Eve?" "My parents did when I was little." "Nonsense!" "You are infuriating!" "Tomorrow night, look in the sky. When you see a shooting star, it's not a star." "It's a meteorite." "It's Santa Claus." She folded her arms across her chest. "You mean to tell me that on Christmas Eve, you stand outside in search of a flying *elf*?" "He's not an elf. If you say that, you'll insult him." "Sorry. So what is he? An E.B.E.?" He considered it. "It's possible." ______________________________ ______________________________ "Yuh-huh, Mulder. Sure." She stepped away from the counter and opened the refrigerator. "I need dessert." "Me too." Mulder craved a sweet. "What about those peanut butter cups?" "Um..." she stalled. "What happened to them, Scully?" The way she stepped away from him, avoiding her eyes, told him something was up. "Well...I ate them." The last words came out in a rush. "You what?" "Well, I was really hungry and you were in the shower, so I ate them." "*I* bought them. *I* wanted one. Did you think of saving me one? Noooo." He sat on the counter, depressed. "I'm sorry, Mulder. Don't be mad at me." "I'm not." He heaved a huge sigh. "I just want something sweet. You know when that happens, right? It's an obsession, a craving. I *need* something sweet." He stared off at a fixed point in the distance. "Well, maybe I could make a cake. I think I have a mix somewhere..." Her voice trailed off as she saw where his gaze sat. "No, not the gingerbread house. I spent all morning on it. I am taking it over to Mom's house. No." He slid off the waxed counter, slowly heading for the cookie apartment. "This is an emergency. You don't want me to die of starvation, do you? I could see the headlines - 'FBI Agent Dies at Partner's House - Domestic Dispute.'" He picked up the house, licking his lips. "NOOOOO!" She jumped up, trying to take away the confection. "Don't think so, Scully." Mulder held the gingerbread house high above his head. She jumped, but he was too tall for her. "Come on, Mulder, don't be a jerk." He stuck his tongue out at her. For a moment she was reminded of her battles with her brothers. Remembering, Dana reached out and tickled her partner. "D'oh!" Doubling over, he dropped the gingerbread house. Scully rushed to save the treat, but was too late. Catching only the roof, she watched as it dropped to the kitchen floor with a crash. "Damn it!" She stared at her lovely dessert, shattered to pieces. Clyde, wondering what had awakened him from his twenty three hour a day nap, wandered into the eating area, looking at the mess on the ground. Wasting no time, he immediately began licking the ground. Mulder watched the dog eat what was supposed to be *his* treat. He quickly realized the hilarity of the situation and began to laugh, a long, loud laugh that reverberated through the room. It was contagious. Soon Scully joined in, the outrageous happenings of the past two days catching up to her. The tears poured down her face, while Mulder held his sides, the laughing causing him pain. "I needed to do that." Scully dried her tears, smiling. She helped her partner to his feet. "You okay?" "Yes." He watched the dog eating the sweet treat. "I'm still hungry, though." "Well, I think I can help with that problem." Dana held out the salvaged part of the gingerbread house. "Will this do?" Mulder's face lit up. "Definitely." He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the sparkling cider. "Care to celebrate, Doctor Scully?" "I would love to, Mr. Mulder." * * * * * December 24, 1995 11:24 a.m. "I have a huge headache." Slowly Mulder rose from the sofa, trying not to cause any more pain to his body. "Scully?" No answer. He looked around the house, finding his caretaker in the kitchen. "Morning," she said, a little bit too cheerily for his taste. "We'll see about that." He headed for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "Heaven." She stared at him. "You're acting as if you have a hangover. As a doctor, Mulder, I can tell you that you cannot get inebriated from a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne." "That's what you say. What's for breakfast?" "Raisin Bran. Did you look out the window?" she asked as she placed the bowl in front of him. "What's the point? I have seen sheets of snow before." "Not anymore." She drew back the curtain on the kitchen window. "See? It's stopped snowing and the roads have been plowed. You're free to leave." "Trying to get of me, Scully?" "Yes. Come on, Mulder. We've been cooped up in this apartment together for three days. We're going to be spending the next three days together after this. I think we need a break." "I agree." They sat there in silence, finishing breakfast. Mulder got up, put the bowl in the dishwasher, and gathered his belongings. "Sorry to be an imposition on you, Scully." "You weren't." The mood became serious. "Thank you, Mulder, for keeping me company. You made a difficult time very easy." "So did you, Scully." They stood there awkwardly for a few minutes until Scully broke the silence. "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow morning, okay?" "Got it." * * * * * 11:24 p.m. The knock on her door awakened Scully. Making sure that she was decent, Dana made her way to the foyer, checking through the peephole before opening the door. "Mulder?" The door flung open. "What are you doing here?" "Hey, Scully. Are you ready?" "For what?" She shook her head, as if to clear the cobwebs. "I told you we were leaving at seven tomorrow, right?" "I'm taking you out. Someplace special." His tone belied nothing else. She looked down at her clothing: jeans, sweater, pink bunny slippers. "What should I wear?" "What you're wearing now." Heading for the door, Mulder turned back. "Well, I guess you should change the slippers too. Now hurry up. We're going to be late." "Yes, sir." She pulled off the offending footwear and started to lace her Keds. * * * * * St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church Alexandria, Virginia 11:54 p.m. "Why are we here, Mulder?" Scully stepped out of the car and waited for her partner to meet her on the curb. "You're not the religious type." "No, but you are." He took her arm and led her through the double doors. "I know you are confused, Dana. I thought maybe this would bring back some good Christmas memories, as well as help you decide." Scully turned to thank him, but remembered the unspoken rule of silence in church. Instead, she smiled, blessed herself with holy water and made her way to an empty pew. "Could everyone please rise and sing number 251 in the blue hymnal, 'Angels We Have Heard on High'?" The congregation rose, ringing in the coming of Jesus Christ. Scully watched in awe of the unity that the church possessed of the blind faith and trust they put into their beliefs. They sat, and the service began. It amazed Scully how much she remembered. She knew when to sit and stand, didn't need to look at the book for the Our Father or the Glory to God. She listened intently to the readings of the Bible, and more importantly the homily of Father Steven. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome and Merry Christmas. Christmas is a time to commemorate the birth of our Savior the Lord Jesus Christ, but it is also a time of believing. Every day we have to believe. We have to believe that one day we will go to Heaven, believe that our loved ones are in Heaven, and most importantly believe in God. Every year it gets harder, but we pray that it will become better. When I was a child, I asked my mother was Santa Claus real. She looked me in the eye and asked me, 'Do you believe in Santa?' I answered yes, and she replied, 'Whatever you believe in is real.' If you believe in aliens, they are real. If you believe in yourself, you are real. If you believe in miracles, they are real. If you belive in God, He is real. Trust in your beliefs. If you belive strongly enough, anything is possible." He sat back down, composed himself, and sang out, "Let us proclaim the mystery of faith." As Scully chanted the words aloud, she thought of the priest's speech. "Peace of Christ be with you." Scully and Mulder shook the hands of their neighbors around them, wishing them a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Turning to her partner, Dana reached out impulsively and gave him a hug. Surprised, Mulder quickly covered and squeezed her tightly. "Thank you Mulder. I needed this." He wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm glad it helped you, Scully." He kissed her on the top of the head, gently releasing her. * * * * * They walked to the car slowly, relishing the quiet moment between them. The services had touched both Mulder and Scully. He stared at her, transfixed by her understated beauty and quiet elegance. Her hair was pulled away from her face with a black piece of cloth, reminding him of an Irish folk song. "Her eyes, they shined like diamonds. You'd think she was queen of the land With her hair hung over her shoulders Tied up with a black velvet band." Scully's thoughts were broken when she noticed Mulder staring at her. "What's the matter?" They had reached the car. Mulder unlocked the passenger side and opened the door for her. "How Irish are you?" "One hundred percent. Both sets of my grandparents came from Ireland. Why?" "I had a feeling." He closed the door and circled to the driver's side. ______________________________ ______________________________ Scully didn't get much sleep; at precisely seven a.m., Mulder was knocking on her door, and Clyde was barking. She groggily crawled off the couch, wearing the same clothes she had worn to midnight mass, and answered the door. "Merry Christmas, Scully!" he cried cheerfully, his arms full of packages and other assorted goodies. She felt like slamming the door back in his face but smiled as sweetly as she could. "Gee, Mulder, you shouldn't have." "I brought your two Christmas presents, one for little Clyde, one for your mother, one for your niece, one for Skinner that you have to write your name on and sign the card, and a batch of chocolate chip cookies." He dropped the packages on her kitchen table. "Now, hurry up. We have to get to Norfolk by lunchtime." "Mulder, it takes about two and a half hours. One hour and forty-five minutes if you drive." She picked up the gifts that belonged under her tree. "We'll make it in plenty of time." "Oh." He shrugged. "Hey, where are you going with those presents?" She stopped and turned. "I was going to put them under my tree." "No, no, you have to open them. Clyde, too." She looked at the bone with the red ribbon tied around it. "I don't think he'll have too hard of a time." "So give it to me." He took it from her. "Here, Clyde!" The pomeranian heard his name being called and entered the kitchen, his little toenails clicking on the linoleum. He spotted a huge bone and barked, his tail wagging furiously. When the evil man didn't give him the bone, he got upset, jumping up and taking not only the bone but some skin as well. Mulder yelled out in pain. "Ow! Jesus, Scully. Does that dog have rabies?" "Clyde!" she scolded as the dog tottered off with the bone in its mouth. She sighed and dampened a washcloth. "Here, put this on it until I can find my peroxide." He stiffened at the word. "Gee, thanks. This feels better already." She understood and glanced at her two packages. One was small and rectangular; the other was bulky and medium-sized. "Which one do I open first?" "The bigger one." He beamed. "You'll like it." She raised an eyebrow. "If you insist." She carefully began to undo some tape. "Did you wrap this, Mulder?" "Like hell I did. They had free giftwrapping at the mall. Best to let qualified people handle the task." "Ah ha." She removed all of the paper and discovered a white t-shirt. She unfolded it and read the message aloud. "'Kiss me--I'm Irish'." The black letters were printed over a large shamrock. "It's . . . nice. Thank you." "You have to wear it to your brother's house today. Your mother can appreciate it." "Okay." She looked at him. "Let me go get one of yours. The other one I didn't wrap because I kept tearing the paper." She disappeared into her bedroom, shirt in hand. He sat down at the table and sighed. He was tired. He hadn't gone to church in a long time, much less one that started at midnight. But he knew that it had made Scully happy, which pleased him as well. Scully finally returned, carrying a package and wearing her new t-shirt. "Here you go." He glanced at her. "Hey! It fits! I was right when I guessed your size." She frowned. "Mulder, the tag said 'one size fits all'." "Really? I didn't notice." He picked up the gift and shook it. "Hmm . . . is it proof that Roswell was an actual alien landing?" "Not exactly, but you'll like it just the same." He ripped the paper to shreds to uncover the complete, up-to-date version of all of the episodes of 'Red Shoe Diaries'. His face lit up. "Scully! These are all of the ones I missed on Friday night plus the ones that I saw but my VCR ate afterwards. Thank you!" He looked over the cover. "Where did you get this?" "Well, I called Frohike. He directed me to a porno shop downtown. So I went there, told the cashier your name, and . . . she knew you . . . I told her what I wanted, and she got it for me." He squeezed her hand. "We'll have to watch this together sometime." She shook her head defiantly. "Never. And if you bring that to Norfolk, I'll kill you." "Bet your brothers wouldn't." He set it aside with a chuckle. "Open the other one." "All right." She began the unwrapping process and, when she was finished, she found a gold wristwatch. She gasped and removed it from its box. "Oh, Mulder, it's beautiful! Thank you." "Read the inscription." She raised an eyebrow as she carefully turned it over. Aloud, she read, "'Keep searching for the truth.' You shouldn't have." "I thought it was appropriate." He grinned. "Merry Christmas, Scully." "Merry Christmas." After adoringly putting her watch on, she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom. "Come on; I have to show you your other gift." He followed her into the room and immediately noticed his other present. "I wondered what happened to it!" He went up to the 'I Want to Believe' poster that was now in a nice frame. "This is great. Thank you." "Now it'll be preserved instead of full of tack holes and such." She glanced at her new watch, which was already set at the right time. "You're right; we'd better hit the road. Who knows what kind of traffic will be out on Christmas day!" "Boy, it's a good thing we brought my tape of Christmas music cause we're gonna be here til next year." Scully sighed and glanced at the long line of traffic heading out of Washington on interstate 95. "I'm glad we left early." Mulder pushed his cassette tape in. The music began. "Well, you may think you can sneak around, get away With something but there ain't no way! Cause Santa's no fool, He's really super cool, He's the secret head of CIA. Eash, ash, the crime don't pay. You can't do nothing cause you're never alone. He's even got a wire tap on your phone!" Scully shook her head. "Mulder, that's ridiculous. What is that?" "Ray Stevens. Don't tell me you don't know who Ray Stevens is." "Oh, I know." She chuckled slightly. "I know." Clyde, who was feasting on his bone while sitting in Scully's lap, growled at the music. "And he say 'On Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen and Bruce and Marvin and Leon and Cleetis and George and Bill, Slick and Dooright, Fred, Ace and Slide, Blacky and Queeny and Prince and Spot and Rover.' So where's Rudolph? They say he's on the stakeout at your house!" "Christmas for the paranoid," she muttered softly. But Mulder heard her. "You want to hear paranoid? How about this? I picked this up off the 'net. I had some of my musically inclined friends make it into a song." He fast forward to the end of the song. "Ah, here it is." "You'd better watch out, You'd better not cry, You'd better not pout; I'm telling you why. Santa Claus is tapping Your phone." She sighed. This was going to be a loooooong trip. ______________________________ Norfolk, Virginia Three and a half hours later . . . "Oh, Dana, you made it!" Margaret Scully hugged her daughter. "What took so long? I thought you were leaving at seven." "We left at seven-thirty, and the traffic was *terrible*." As she and her mother chatted, Mulder and Clyde made their way into the kitchen, where a nice Virginia ham was baking in the oven. "Hmm . . . I always love a Scully Christmas." He shook hands with Bill, Jr., one of Scully's brothers. "How are you?" He frowned down upon his little sister's friend. He didn't really like him. "Fine. And you?" "Good." He made sure his hand still had a blood flow to it; Bill had a strong grasp. Sally, Charles's daughter, ran into the kitchen. "Hi, Uncle Fox!" He swung the girl up in his arms, not correcting her. "Hey, there, Sally! Merry Christmas." "Merry Christmas to you, too. Where's Aunt Dana?" "She's with Grandma in the living room." He pulled a present out of his coat pocket. "Here's your gift." "Gee, thank you!" She kissed his cheek and was set on the ground. "I have to put this under the tree." She hurried off. Scully's youngest brother entered the room. "Fox! I didn't know Dana was bringing you all the way down here for Christmas." They shook hands. Charles liked Mulder much more than Bill did. "How's work?" "It's good. What have you been up to?" "Oh, the usual. Hey, we're watching the football game in the other room. Care to join us?" He smiled. It was nice to be accepted into a family. "Sure. Just give me a few minutes, okay?" "Meet you there." Charles grinned. "Great to see you again, Fox." Scully stepped into the kitchen. She gave her brothers hugs and kisses. "Going off to watch football, eh, fellas?" "Yep," Charles replied. "I even got Claire to watch it with us." "Oh, no, not Claire, too." Scully sighed. "Who's going to wash dishes?" "That's our job this year, dear," Maggie told her, passing them and heading for the stove. "And dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. You guys get washed up." Everyone scattered. Scully and Mulder headed outside to get Sally's present. "I'm glad the snow has subsided," Mulder said as they opened the trunk. "Not me," she answered. "It made everything prettier. I can't imagine Christmas without snow." "Well, think of all the people living in Arizona and California. Think any of them own winter coats?" She shook her head with a laugh and closed the trunk, Mulder carrying the gift. She followed him and was struck with an ingenious idea. She dropped to the ground. " . . . pants, either." Mulder stopped walking when he didn't hear his partner's feet crunch in the snow behind him. "Scully?" He turned around just in time to get pelleted in the face by a large snowball. Slowly, he put Sally's present on the ground. She giggled childishly at his expression. Her laughter stopped when he grabbed her and knocked her into a snow pile on the front lawn. She lifted her snow-covered head and frowned. He grinned, kneeling beside her. "Still like the snow, Scully?" An all-out snowball fight ensued. They were unaware of the amount of time they had spent playing in the snow until Maggie poked her head out the door. "Hey! Come on; dinner's on the table!" Mulder helped Scully to her feet, and they brushed themselves off. Arm in arm, they entered the house. He stopped and looked at her. "What is it?" she asked in confusion. He pointed to the ceiling. She looked in that direction. Mistletoe. "Can't break tradition, can we, Scully?" "We could, but I don't like to break tradition, do you?" "Nope." They kissed quickly, partly because their facial features were blue and frozen and partly because they had an audience. Mulder whispered to her, "I'll get you later." She raised an inquisitive eyebrow and grinned. She saw her niece at the dinner table and gasped. "Oh, my God. Mulder, we forgot the present in the driveway!" Suddenly, the final dinner guest, a friend of Bill's from the Navy named Anna Wright, burst through the door. "Merry Christmas!" Mulder went up to her. "How'd you get here?" "In a car," she replied with a frown. Scully's eyes widened. "You didn't park in the driveway, did you?" "Yes--why?" She pulled the wrapped box out from behind her back. "Looking for this?" Scully breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God." Yet something still seemed wrong. "Where's Clyde? He usually barks when someone arrives." Mulder gulped. "Uh oh. Um . . . Scully?" He pointed to the back door, which was wide open. "Where does Clyde hide when he's in Norfolk?" She sighed. "Here we go again." THE END Happy Holidays! --Keri and MaryKate