TITLE: Merry Christmas, Scully AUTHOR: Stephanie Kaiser E-MAIL: scully@galenalink.com Rating: R Spoilers: Yes, up to and including Redux II Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Summary: Mulder and Scully exchange gifts, dreams and love this Christmas. Disclaimer: As much as I wish I had a hand in creating The X-Files all rights belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Entertainment. I do however believe that Mulder and Scully belong to David and Gillian, without them there would be words but no soul. Suing me would do no good, I would just have more time to write in jail. Author's notes: If you're looking for a tale of adventure and angst, you're not going to find it here. If you're looking for a sweet Christmas romance, sit back, relax and let me tell you a story. Any comments can be sent to: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "I really am sorry, Scully." Mulder took his eyes from the road momentarily and looked at his partner. He knew she was disappointed--she had been silent for most of the drive. "It's not your fault, Mulder," she reassured, more quietly than usual. "I know how much you wanted to spend Christmas with your family at your aunt's in San Diego." "Mulder," she sighed. "It's not your fault that our last case made me miss my flight. It's not your fault that the next flight I could get on was the day after Christmas. It's a busy time of year. I do appreciate you trying to convince the airline that it was emergency government business." "Too bad it didn't work," he scowled. "I wish you would have left me to wrap the case up and made your flight." "Leave you to your own devices? Now that's spooky." A smile threatened to emerge when she felt him cast an unamused glance her way. "You needed my help." "Always," he assured her. Without taking his eyes from the road he sought out her hand and squeezed it gently. He twined his fingers with hers, keeping their joined hands between them on the seat. Silently, he rejoiced when she didn't pull away. He had been so close to losing her. She had almost slipped away from him. That night in the darkness of her hospital room, as he had cried in agony, he vowed to himself that if she survived he would tear down the walls they had built up between them. He ran his thumb along the inside of her palm. Brick by brick, the walls were coming down. Scully was surprised how at ease she had grown with Mulder's touch. How much she had grown to crave it. Mulder had always been a physical person. He needed to feel connected to her. His hand on the small of her back while they walked. His arm around her shoulders to draw her closer when no one else was supposed to hear their conversation. His arms around her waist when she needed comfort. His hand in hers when he was the one needing comforting. There were invisible lines they never crossed. There were unspoken rules they never broke. Since her release from the hospital over a month ago, Mulder seemed intent on crossing all the lines and breaking all the rules. Her stay in the hospital had changed them, both. When she had first gotten home, she expected a certain level of over-protectiveness from him. He hadn't let her down. Mulder had always displayed tendencies to be over-protective. But this time was different. This time he called at all hours just to check in and ask how she was. This time he kissed her cheek whenever he said hello or before he said good-bye. This time he would rest his hand on her arm or on her hand, like he was doing now, for long periods of time just to feel close to her. This time she encouraged his need to feel close. Not at the office, of course. He was still very professional at work, but that was different too. The change there had been subtle, yet just as unnerving. The rules that they followed had always defined their relationship. Now as they traveled together, the rules governing the limits of their emotional and physical boundaries lying in a broken rubble somewhere far behind them, she found simple pleasure in the warmth of his hand on hers. "Scully?" "Hmmm...?" "You left me there for a minute. Where did you go?" This time it was Scully who tightened her fingers around his. "I didn't go anywhere. I'm right here next to you." "You Ok, Scully?" Mulder took his eyes from the road and held her gaze briefly. She nodded. "You never did tell me where we're going. Where is Skinner sending us on such short notice?" "Just an errand, really. We're almost there." "This didn't come out of Skinner's office--did it Mulder?" She looked at him suspiciously, feelings of both annoyance and anticipation coursing through her. "Give me about five more minutes. Everything should be clear then." "Promise me I'll make my flight." "Scully," he laughed. "your flight isn't until the day after tomorrow. Besides, that's why I told you to bring everything you want to take to San Diego along with you. Just in case." "Mulder." Her voice held a trace amount of threat. "I promise," he insisted. He smiled at her suspicion. He was actually surprised they had gotten this far without questions. He didn't want to mislead her, but he wasn't about to spoil the surprise yet either. The driveway he'd been waiting for came into view. He felt her questioning eyes on him as he slowed the car and made the turn. The car followed the drive as it wound its way back through a dense thicket of trees. He smiled when he heard her quick intake of breath as the cottage came into view. The small house sat nestled within a protective embrace of pine trees on three of its sides. It was two stories tall and looked like something Scully remembered seeing in a fairy tale book when she was a child. Pine roping, with just a few decorative white lights hung along the balcony on the second floor. The lights shining brightly against the darkening sky. A wreath with a red bow adorned the front door, welcoming them. The snow that had been lightly falling for the past hour dusted the cottage and the pine trees, creating its own holiday splendor. Mulder pulled the car up in front of the house and turned off the engine. Scully turned to him, her eyes bright with wonder. "It's amazing. Who lives here?" "Do you want to go inside?" She nodded and quickly jumped out of the car and hurried up the steps. Her fingers ran softly over the velvet bow of the wreath. Leaning toward the decoration she deeply inhaled its rich pine fragrance. "Go ahead." She heard Mulder's voice from behind her. "Open the door and go inside." "We can't just walk into someone else's house," she protested, turning to face him. She was about ready to burst with curiosity, yet Mulder still saw her hesitate. He walked to her and placed both of his hands on her hips, pulling her near to him. "Merry Christmas, Scully." He whispered in a soft, low voice next to her ear before he caressed her cheek tenderly with his lips. He held her to him briefly before turning her around. She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck as he leaned forward and opened the door of the cottage. Her curiosity got the best of her and she slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. A child-like smile spread across her face as she viewed what waited for her inside the cottage. The house itself was completely open in design. One large room made up the downstairs with areas designated for a kitchen, dining room, and parlor. Stairs off to her left led to the second floor, a partial loft area, also open. From where she was standing she could just barely see the top of the canopy bed in the master bedroom above. It wasn't the design of the house that made her smile. It was the array of majestic Christmas decorations that would have fulfilled any child's holiday fantasy that filled Scully's heart. Mistletoe and holly were spread across the mantle of the lit fireplace where two stockings hung in wait. An elaborate winter village, complete with lights and skaters on a frozen pond, spread across the coffee table between the couch and the fireplace. Baskets of pine cones and poinsettias were strategically placed throughout the cottage. The only light in the room came from the fire, a few candles burning on the mantle and dining room table, and from the colored lights that wrapped themselves around the Christmas tree. The tree was spectacular and Scully found herself drawn to it. It was in the back far corner of the room, along the same wall as the fireplace, but a safe distance away. She walked towards it and gazed up in astonishment. She guessed it stood approximately ten feet tall, only about two or three feet short of the ceiling. Colored lights, shiny glass bulbs, tinsel, crepe paper bows, and antique wooden ornaments filled its limbs. A heavenly ornate angel with long red tresses and a silk and burgundy gown rested on the upper most branch. The lights on the tree began to blur as her eyes grew warm, threatening tears. Realization had begun to dawn on her. She turned back to Mulder, who had stepped inside and closed the door. "Did you do this?" She asked softly, not fully trusting her voice. Mulder stepped out of the shadows, into the fire light and nodded. "I know how perfect you wanted this Christmas to be. You didn't decorate your apartment because you were planning to be gone over the holidays. I couldn't stand the thought of you sitting home alone tonight and tomorrow morning without so much as even a tree." The tears that had threatened to fall moments before trailed a path down her face. Determinedly, she walked to where he stood and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. She pressed her cheek against the hardness of his chest, breathing in the masculine scent she knew to belong only to him. Her arms snaked beneath his jacket and kneaded the firm muscled planes of his back. His arms encircled her and she felt his chin rest gently on top of her head. They held each other, motionless, for several moments. "Is it what you imagined?" He whispered. "What I imagined?" She stepped back and gazed questioningly into his eyes. There were times she found herself lost in those eyes. This was one of those times. He reached inside his front jacket pocket and pulled out a folded, glossy advertisement from a magazine. Carefully unfolding the paper, he handed it to her. She took it from him and studied the image. The cottage they were standing in was practically an exact replica of the picture on the page. "Mulder?" "I saw you looking at this on the airplane several months ago. You stared at it the entire flight. Scully, there was such a sadness in your eyes when you looked at it. Such longing. You left it sitting on the seat when we landed and I picked it up. When you missed your flight, because we were working, I knew I had to give this to you." She smiled at him tenderly before moving to sit on the couch in front of the fire. She shrugged out of her coat and sat back, giving the magazine photo her full attention. Mulder quietly removed his jacket and sat on the sofa next to her. "When I saw this on the airplane..." she began but faltered. She looked up and found the strength she needed to continue in his eyes. "When I saw this, I was dying. I wasn't sure I would still be alive this Christmas. At the very least, I thought I'd be in the hospital. It was the first time, Mulder. The first time I thought of the disease as something that was going to take away my future." "It wasn't taken away. The disease is gone and it's Christmas Eve and you're here. We're both here, together." He reached out and pushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "How did you have time to do all this? We just got back to DC yesterday." "I was able to hire some help, but if I fall asleep over dinner, don't take it personally." He joked easily. "Dinner? Was that the phone call you made when we were almost here?" He nodded. "I wanted everything to be perfect when we got here. I needed someone to light the fire, the candles and plug in the tree. And yes..." he flashed his patented boyish grin at her. "to start dinner. They promised me that when we got here, even a trained baboon could finish dinner without messing it up." He stood and held out his hand to her. "So, do you want to come into the kitchen and monkey around?" She put her hand in his and he pulled her up from the couch. "I'd love to." --- ---- They sat on opposite sides of the table. Candle light illuminating their features. Their demeanor relaxed, comfortable, yet charged with intimacy. Soft laughter filled the room. "Mulder. Thank you. For tonight. I don't remember the last time I felt this relaxed." "It's only going to get better." "More surprises?" "Presents." He smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. "Mulder." Scully reached across the table with only a trace of her usual hesitancy, placing her hand over his. "You gave me my life back...and all this." She gestured around the room. "I don't need another present." "They aren't from me. Santa Claus brought them. I know he'd be very disappointed if you didn't open them." She looked at the two colorfully wrapped packages under the tree. She grinned with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning. "I would hate to disappoint Santa. Even though I'm sure he had help delivering these particular gifts." "I'm a little too tall to be called an elf, Scully. Come on." He stood and walked to her side of the table. "Now?" "Why not?" "You are throwing all tradition to the wind here aren't you?" "Tradition? I am not going out in the snow and singing. That's where I draw the line." "No, not caroling," she laughed. "Every year when we were growing up we ate dinner on Christmas Eve and we had to do the dishes before we could open a present." She stood and followed him to the tree. Mulder grabbed one of the throw blankets from off the over-stuffed chair next to the tree and spread it out on the floor. They both sat down on the blanket. "Didn't your family have any holiday traditions?" "We didn't celebrate a lot of holidays after Samantha was taken. It was too hard for mom the first year. After that it became more of a tradition to ignore the holidays." "I'm sorry. Everything you've done tonight has been so perfect, I didn't mean to bring up unpleasant memories." "That's what tonight is for, Scully. Making new memories." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. Encouraging the contact she ran her hand up the length of his arm and cupped his face. He pulled away and smiled. "Can I open my present now?" Much to her surprise and delight, he kissed her quickly on the tip of the nose. Reaching past her, he grabbed the larger of the two gifts and handed it to her. "You are incorrigible," he teased. "Thank you. Can I open it now?" He nodded and she began to carefully tear the paper from the box. Mulder watched for what seemed, to him, to be an eternity. "I thought you were in a hurry?" "I'm savoring this." "Savor it a little faster, would you?" Scully raised an eyebrow at him, but her pursed lips couldn't hide her smile. She pulled the last piece of paper from the box. She placed it on the floor in front of her. Carefully, she lifted the lid. She looked up at Mulder in surprise. "Name plates?" Her voice was filled with bewilderment, her eyes overflowing with wonder. "This one," he said reaching into the box and pulling out a flat metal name plate reading DR. DANA SCULLY, "is for the door to the basement office. And this one," he reached back into the box removing a larger name plate, attached to a metal stand, reading the same as the first, "this one goes on your desk." "My desk?" "That's the other reason I needed to keep you out of the office today." "You got me a desk?" Despite her best efforts, her voice cracked with emotion. "There isn't room in that office for another desk. You said so yourself." "I was wrong. All we needed to do was a little creative arrangement and a storage closet down the hall. That office....The X-Files are as much a part of you as they are me. They almost cost you your life. Your name belongs on that door and you deserve your own desk in that office. Our office." "Our office?" "It's been *our* office for a long time, Scully." "Thank you." She sat quietly for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I know that I go to that office every day, that I belong there...with you. Not just because that's where I've been assigned, but because of the work we do there...and because of you. These name plates and the desk show me that you think I belong there too. That's the best gift you could have given me." "There's still one more box under the tree with your name on it." His voice was soft, his expression a mixture of pride for choosing the right gift and guilt for not giving it to her long before. "Mulder, you've given me so much." She protested. "What's gotten into you?" "Maybe this is just the first Christmas in a lot of years I feel like celebrating. I'm making up for lost time. Just go with it, Scully." She smiled as he placed the smaller gift into her hands. She removed the ribbon and the wrapping paper. A small white box remained. Taking the lid off, she removed a gray velvet jeweler's box. Looking up briefly with anticipation, she slowly raised the lid. Laying in a satin bed was the most exquisite ring she had ever seen. Lifting it from its resting place, she examined it more closely. A brilliant blue sapphire was set among intricately woven swirls of gold that made up the breath-taking band. Elegantly crafted and painstakingly detailed. "It's Irish." Mulder explained. "The stone is supposed to be an emerald but I thought a sapphire would look better on you. I had it specially made. The legend states that a blessing was placed on the area where the gold was found. It says that whomever wears the ring is wrapped in the protective embrace of a guardian angel and no harm can come to her." He tenderly took the ring from her hand and placed it on the third finger of her right hand. "I know you don't believe in legend and myth, Scully, but I feel better knowing that you have your own special guardian angel now," he whispered, bringing his lips to gently kiss the hand he had just placed the ring on. "I always thought that my own special guardian angel was you." "It never hurts to have back-up." He smiled. A single tear rolled down her face and he reached out to wipe it from her cheek. She leaned toward him, stopping only when her lips were a mere inch from his. "Mulder," she breathed. "Are you ever going to kiss me?" She had barely gotten the question out before his mouth came down on hers. It wasn't perfect; it was much, much better. Suddenly she was in his arms. Her reaction was instantaneous. Her entire body responded to his kiss, and when his tongue brushed against hers, she imitated his action and kissed him with all the pent-up passion inside of her. One kiss wasn't enough. Frantic to get as close to him as possible, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers gripped his hair while his mouth ravaged hers. She had waited for this for so long. They had waited so long. Her senses were exploding with new sensation, yet she had to stop, but only for a moment. "Wait," she pulled away breathless and slid back away from him. She was shaken by the hurt she saw in his eyes. She leaned forward again briefly and nuzzled his cheek. "I have a present for you." "That wasn't it?" "No, that wasn't it." She laughed. She slid on her stomach under the tree and reached in back where she pulled out a gift he hadn't seen yet. "When I went outside to get my bag, I grabbed this from the trunk. I was going to give it you before I left, but I want you to open it now." He gingerly took the package from her hands and studied the wrapping. He looked up into her eyes and she nodded to him. He slowly pulled the ribbon off and tore the paper away. What he held in his hands was a photograph. The image in the frame brought tears to his eyes and he looked at Scully for conformation. She slid into sitting position beside him, so that she saw the picture as he was looking at it. A woman, a man, and two small children; one boy and one girl. The woman in the picture was his sister, Samantha. "You found her?" His voice cracked with the magnitude of emotion laden in those simple words. "It wasn't easy, but with the description you gave me and knowing that she had a family and wasn't deliberately hiding, we were able to find her. I had some help. The Lone Gunmen's *unofficial channels" were very helpful. This is her husband, his name is Jack," she said pointing to the photograph as she went. "Their daughter, your niece, is named Elisabeth and their son, your nephew, she named after you. His name is Fox." Mulder looked up from the photograph and she saw the tears brimming in his eyes. "Poor kid." "He doesn't like it any better than you did. He makes everyone call him by his last name, Elliot. Only his mother can call him Fox, only Samantha. She didn't forget you, Mulder. All those years, she never forgot you. I have her address for you. You can go and see her and her family." "She doesn't want to see me. She made that clear when I saw her in the diner." His voice was small, fragmented. "Mulder, she does want to see you. I went to her. I told her how hard you searched for her. How much she means to you. I told her how much you loved her and how much you want to be a part of her life. She wants to see you, very badly." "You did that? You went to see her?" Scully nodded. Mulder looked up at her, fear in his eyes. "Will you go with me? To see them?" "If you want me to. Of course I'll go with you." Mulder nodded and then crushed her against him. He held onto her as tightly as he could without hurting her. She stroked his hair and his back. They held onto each other. Each afraid to let go. The initial movement was hers. She tangled the fingers of her hand through the rich darkness of his hair, pressing his head closer to her, urging him to follow her down to the floor. His lips sought hers. He kept her glued against him while he continued to try and devour her. He couldn't get enough of her. He rolled over, positioning her so that her body covered his. She was pressed tight against him, but the feeling he wanted was dulled by their clothing. Mulder groaned in frustration and began to take her clothes off, his mouth never leaving hers. God, but she tasted wonderful to him. He unbuttoned her blouse, tore it free from her waistband, and then pushed the straps of her lace bra down over her shoulders. His hand moved beneath the fabric and began to stoke her breast. The feel of her smooth skin against his moved his control even further away. He could barely think now. Scully broke away, her breathing shallow and fast. She sat up, straddling his hips. Reaching behind her back she unclasped the lace and let the material fall to the floor. Leaning over him, she began to unbutton his shirt, planting feathery kisses on his chest and abdomen as she freed him of the garment. His belt was the next to go, followed by all of the other remaining obstacles of fabric. She took her place once again upon him. Flesh against flesh. The first touch of him jolted through her, much as a first drink of wine, before diffusing warmly through her body. Flesh against flesh. She cradled his head against her breast. His warm lips seeking equally warm flesh. Scully moaned and struggled to get closer. No other sound was necessary. Words might be needed later, but not now. Now--now she wanted no words to shatter these ethereal, impossible, wonderful sensations. He moved tentatively, as gently as she, almost as though he, too, were aware of the fragility of the moment. Carefully, with excruciating slowness, he slid one hand to her hip. The sensations of the soft silk of his hair in her fingers and his warm lips on her breast were not enough. She eased her hand across his chest in delicate tracery, and then down his torso, feeling his smooth, firm muscles as her fingers inched lower. He slid upward. His mouth found the pulse in her throat and lingered there before moving up to the one behind the shell of her ear. He had needed her for so long. Needing her was as much a part of him as breathing. Her gentle touch both soothed and enflamed him. He put his arms around her and pulled her beneath him. Her body ached for him. Scully twisted beneath him, but he still denied her that touch. His lips caressed her eyes, her temples, her cheeks, and finally her lips. She sighed against his mouth as he claimed hers. She clenched her fingers into the muscles of his back as their kiss went on forever--possessive, wistful, hungry, giving. Mulder's hands and mouth moved with delicious thoroughness as they learned her body. And hers, as hungry as his, refused to deny themselves the touch of him, the taste of him. He was hers. And she was his. He overwhelmed her senses until she was incapable of thought. She thought he asked her to tell him if he did anything she didn't like, and she really tried to answer him, to tell him that nothing he did could be wrong, but every time she tried to speak, he did something more wonderful to her, and she couldn't get more than a sigh or a whimper out. If he meant to drive her crazy, he was succeeding gloriously, When he finally came to her, she caught his face in her hands and joined their mouths as he joined their bodies. He savored each whisper, each movement. Her body racked with tremors, but her soul sang, as together they sought and postponed, and sought and postponed their ultimate goal. When at last the need to find release became unbearable, he forced her fulfillment by increasing the rhythm and tightening his grip. Ecstasy such as she had never experienced before began to ripple, then increased within a heartbeat to an explosive climax. She clung to him as the world fragmented into a thousand brilliant stars. Together they reached the wonder of their lovemaking and found it filled with beauty and joy. It took several minutes for him to recover. He rolled so that she lay again on top of him. He held her close to him, nuzzling her neck and lazily stroking her. "Are you all right?" he whispered. She didn't answer him, but she did sigh against his ear, and he knew, before he found enough strength to lift his head and look at her face, that she was happy. Without disturbing her he reached out for the second blanket on the chair and covered them with its softness. He was arrogantly satisfied to know that he had exhausted her. She fell asleep clinging to him, her legs entwined with his, her face nestled in the crook of his neck. For this moment in time, she belonged completely to him. This woman that he loved. He would tell her how much he loved her tomorrow, when they awoke together on Christmas morning as they lay under the tree. "Merry Christmas, Scully." He whispered, kissing her temple lovingly before joining her in sleep. The end. --- --- Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night ;)