From: laster Date: Mon, 05 Jun 2000 09:56:29 -0400 Subject: Twas the Night before X-Files dlynn &Paige Caldwell Source: direct TITLE: 'Twas the Night Before X-files AUTHORS: Dlynn and Paige Caldwell RATING: PG CATEGORY: vignette, FEEDBACK: dlynn1550@my-deja.com and paigecaldwell@hotmail.com DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Ho...ho...ho...A big ole fat NO...just kidding, sure, go ahead..just please let us know.... SPOILERS: slight for A Christmas Carol, small potatoes...okay, a teensy, weensy Amor Fati one.... SUMMARY: This vignette is in answer to Amy's Christmas fanfic. Challenge. We were to incorporate a holiday tradition into Mulder and Scully's lives. DISCLAIMER: Dlynn and Paige refuse to take any responsibility for this mess. The insanity of the holidays drove them insane. "Mulder, what are you doing?" Scully asked, peering over his shoulder at the computer screen. Mulder quickly hit the close button, effectively blocking out her snooping eyes. Man, this woman could tread as quietly as Santa's reindeers when she wanted. He whirled his chair around, expecting to be prodded by questions as sharp as antlers, but found himself staring smack dab at her chest. Not that that was a bad thing...just a forbidden one. O.K. it was technically her fault since she was leaning over the desk to sneak a peak at his unmentionables. But, here he was... doing the same thing. And, from his perspective, her unmentionables were far more enticing. "What are you looking at Mulder?" Scully smirked, watching his hazel eyes shift from guilty to guiltier. Not that she minded. Actually, it was exactly the look she had been waiting for, the payoff from all those lunch-time trips to Victoria's Secret in an effort to "boost" her "don't touch the touchstone" image. Watching his mind formulate a plausible lie to appease her curiosity, Scully decided to save the man the effort. Hell, he was as fidgety as a child who got caught peeking into a Christmas stocking. Besides, it was Christmas and her own quick glimpse of the "unmentionables" had left her intrigued. This was not a holiday tradition she would associate with "Bah, humbug, Mulder." In fact, in all the years she'd known him, she'd never been the recipient of this brand of Mulder's holiday cheer. "So, Mulder, how come I never get one of those?" "Actually, Scully, I was thinking the same thing," Mulder deflected, reaching into his in-box to grab a stack of manila folders. Opening one, he began to peruse the top sheet. He could do dumb, yep, best to play dumb. But Scully was not to be denied. She reached over his shoulder, flipping the monitor back on and retrieving the mysterious file. Watching it open, Mulder wondered if fates would smile today. Now would be a good time for Skinner's secretary to call informing him of his weekly "chew Mulder up and spit him out" fest. He'd rather be called on the carpet, than explain this little holiday tradition to Scully. "If you show me yours, Mulder, maybe I'll show you mine." With a sudden, eager look, Mulder shoved to the floor some things he'd stacked on an empty chair by his computer. "Take a load off, Scully. I'd hate for you to get a crick in your neck while invading my privacy." "Better my neck, than yours, hmmm?" Scully chuckled, taking a seat in the chair. "Mulder, if you hadn't wanted me to read it, you shouldn't have been working on company time, especially considering the company you keep in this hovel. Haven't you figured out what a snoop I am?" Looking affectionately at his partner, Mulder teased back. "I just never figured that your so-called investigative techniques would turn into an internal investigation." Scully lifted her eyebrows, making a mental note to remember his remark for future reference. "Oh yeah, I can see the transformation in your eyes.... from Dana Scully/Ghostbuster to Little Dana/Giftbuster," he laughed. "You probably searched the house for Christmas gifts. Didn't you, Scully. Not content to just shake the packages, huh?" "Shaking's fine, albeit amateurish. A true snoop can unwrap, peak and wrap a present back up without anyone being the wiser. And I'm a regular Nancy Drew when it comes to presents. My parents' could never get anything by Missy and me. We knew all the good hiding places." Fingering the cross that hung from her neck, Scully's face took on a wistful aspect. "Missy and I had just found the boxes which held our crosses, when mom came into the room. We would probably have stuck to our old tricks and..." "Modus operandi, Scully?" "Yeah, our modus operandi," she acknowledged, playfully smacking his arm. "We would have had those out of the boxes and re-wrapped so expertly, no one would have ever known. Did I ever tell you I worked in a department store one year for Christmas? You know, wrapping gifts. Let's face it. I was a natural." "At wrapping or unwrapping," Mulder reached down to the edge of her sleeve and tugged it mischievously. "Mulder!" Scully cried in pretend exasperation. "Sorry," he withdrew his hand immediately. "Right. Well, anyway, mom knew our tricks. She had just placed those under the tree right before we came into the room. She stayed hidden in the kitchen and came out before we had a chance to snoop. She'd wanted them to be special." Reaching over to toy with the slight sliver of gold, Mulder gently laid it against her open collar. "She may have fouled up the Scully sister's "nosey parker" tradition, but I believe she began another one," Mulder said, alluding to the fact Scully always wore her cross. "Yeah. This cross is not only a symbol of my faith but it's a tie to Mom and Missy." In quiet contemplation, Scully remembered fondly that very special Christmas. Then with dawning realization, she lifted her eyes to his. "You're good, Mulder. Oh, you're good." "What, Scully?" he said, appearing every inch the injured party. "You're trying to side track me. It's not going to work." "It's not?" "Nope, like Desi said to Lucy, 'Mulder, you got some 'splainin' to do', "Scully replied in her best god awful Cuban accent, pointing to Mulder's computer screen. "But, you're the one with the red hair, Scully, not to mention Lucy's a-hem, less than operatic voice...." Scully didn't even bat a lash at his comment. Her eyes were glued like Stick-'em bows on the computer screen. There in full Technicolor, four-color glory, sat one of those holiday newsletters. Mulder had not only typed in a letter but he'd created a whole stationary montage of Christmas pictures. There were smiling Santas, gaily wrapped presents, and yep, over in the corner, she did believe she saw sugarplums. At least, she hoped they were sugarplums.... "Since when do you send holiday newsletters, Mulder?" Looking sheepish, he replied, "I don't. I write them, but I don't send them." "What? You go to all the trouble of composing a Christmas sonnet and then you don't bother to mail it?" she queried, quite perplexed he'd spend this amount of time on something he had no intention of anyone seeing. With a melancholy gaze, Mulder said, "We all have traditions, Scully." "And yours would be to write Christmas newsletters and not send them?" she asked, shaking her head with confusion. "No, our tradition was to send them, every Christmas, like clock work." "Until Samantha disappeared..,"Scully finished, realizing why he looked so melancholy. "Exactly. Every year we, as a family, would write these silly holiday newsletters and send them out. We had a whole production. We'd eat dinner and mom would get out a plate of cookies and hot chocolate. We'd sit around the table and compose nonsense, pure unadulterated nonsense. Nothing was off limits, the wilder the better. Sam and I could even contribute because as you know, Scully, kids say the darndest things." Signaling that she was listening and he should continue, Scully placed her head upon his shoulder looking at the screen. "Well, I...ah... I came across a box, yesterday, and it had some of the old Christmas letters in it. I thought maybe... I'd... try and write one of my own. I don't think I'll send it but...." Raising her head from his shoulder, Scully picked up his hand and laid it over her cross. "You thought you'd carry on the tradition." "Yeah, Scully, I felt like carrying on the tradition." Noting that he wasn't quite finished with his letter, Scully asked," Mind if I help?" Placing a warm, lingering kiss upon her palm, Mulder answered, "I'd be honored." He then led her hand down to the keyboard so they could compose together... 'Twas the Night before x-files And all through the house. Not a creature was shape-shifting. Except Eddie Van "Louse" The Gun Men were nestled all snug in their bed. While visions of conspiracies danced in their heads. And Scully, in her black, and I, with my seeds Had just settled down to take care of our needs. "Mulder," Scully gasped in mock shock as his fingers danced over the keyboard. "Ssh, Scully...you're quelching my creative juices," "Well, as long as you don't expect a quick squeeze," When out in the sky there arose such great light I sprang from my office to see what's the sight. Away from my partner, I did do a "ditch" And she in her own way proceeded to bitch. The moon on the breast, (shh! We don't mention that word around CC) ofthe new fallen snow. Gave a luster to alien ships as they buzzed down below. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, The consortium et. Al. All shouting "Oh, dear!" With a smokey old man, so loathsome and dire I knew in a moment it must be Spender, esquire. More rapid than bees his minions they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them By name: "Now, Krycek! Now, Marita! Now, Deep Throat and X! On, WMMan! On Strugold! On, Spender and Fowl Sex!" To the top of J. Edgar ! To the top of The Mall. Now dash away! Dash away! Dasha K All! As dry heaves after the "Wild Turkey" fly When I'm down on my knees, with a gutfull of rye. I seen them, down to the basement, the minions they flew. With a sleigh full of angst and Old Smokey Man, too! And then in a twinkling I heard at the door. The cackling and calling of each CG whore. As I drew in my head and then looked around, Down the elevator, Old Smokey, he came with a bound. He was dressed in a suit, not Armani like mine. And his clothes were all smokey with ashes, not fine. A bundle of trouble, he'd flung on his back. And he looked like the devil just opening his pack. His eyes, how they pierced us! His dimples, how dreary! His cheeks were like dead things. His nose kind of hairy! And his droll little mouth was drawn tight in a scowl. ST. Nick he was not, the old putrid, old cow! The stump of his Morley, he held tight in his teeth. Like "Smoke on the Horizon", he gave us such grief. He had a mackerel face, a dead fish he doth stank... He scratched at his balls, gave his knickers a yank... He was nasty and lewd, a right squalid old elf. And I swore when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head "Everybody havin' a good time", was all that he said. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task. I wish I could introduce him to my good ol'friend "Jack." And poking his finger out into my sight. He went back up the elevator into the night. He sprang to his car, to his minions gave orders. And away they all drove, leaving FBI quarters. But I surely exclaimed as he drove out of sight. "You son of a bitch, you're lucky tonight!" Mulder and Scully stared at the screen. Neither spoke. Words frankly escaped them at this moment. First to break the silence, Scully said, "We wrote that?" "Yep. You're a poet and don't deny it." "God, Mulder, it's terrible. I can't believe that drivel came out of our addled brains." "I know I've always been considered a bit insane. What's your excuse, Scully? You been hitting the old office egg nog again?" "Mulder, we need to delete that. I'm sure that's not exactly what you had in mind when you started your newsletter." With his finger poised over the delete button, Mulder reached around his partner and turned on the printer. Raising her eyebrow at him, he shrugged. "Scully, we gotta give at least one copy to the Lone Gunman." Chuckling, she agreed. She pressed print on the file and they watched their handiwork be revealed. Grasping the sheet, she went back to the print key. "O.k. Mulder, maybe we could send one to Skinner, too." "Yeah, and how about, Chuck? He'd like it." "Alright that's enough, Mulder, no more." "Come on, Scully, we've got to send one more. We've got to send one to Amy at Haven for her fanfic challenge." Think if we do, Iona will let us in on some spoilers?" "You never know, Scully. Last I heard, she had you down on all fours." "And, where might you be?" "Ah...I think I was walking into a door." "Works for me, Mulder." Scully pushed the print button one more time and they watched another piece of holiday magic spew forward. Merry Christmas, x-philes. And to all a GOOD NIGHT." Some of you might have noticed slight references to stories or authors of the fanfic world. It was intentional, you are not hallucinating.