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Title: (Christmas) Baby, Please Come Home! Summary: It's William's first Christmas, and Scully's first Christmas without Mulder. It's also Mulder's first Christmas without Scully. How can they keep the spirit of the season alive when they're so far apart? Disclaimer: X-Files characters belong to Fox Corporation and 1013. Author's Notes: This was a difficult season for Shippers, and I tried to make this a happy piece, although I think it comes off a bit melancholy. Hope it will brighten your holiday spirit, anyway. Please email me any comments or questions! After having listened to "Blue Christmas" on her Brenda Lee Christmas CD, Dana Scully sighed in exasperation. Picking up her young son, William, she set him gently on the changing table and proceeded to change his soiled diaper. "Whew," she mentioned to the boy, after observing- and getting a whiff of- the little gift he had left for her in his diaper. "Wow, William, that really stinks!" She smiled down affectionately at the infant, who seemed unfazed by his offense. When she ran her fingertips across his small stomach, she elicited a coo and a giggle from him that made her heart soar. Once the job was finished, she lay her child in his crib, then grabbed up the offending diaper. "Mulder," she murmured out loud, "there are so many times I wish I had you here with us..." She glanced down at the smelly item she was about to shoot into the diaper genie. "This is one of them." Chuckling to herself, she was actually surprised she could still even exhibit humor. The pain of Mulder's absence seemed especially rough around the holidays. After thoroughly washing her hands, she picked her son back up and brought him into the living room where she took the baby to her breast for his evening meal. As he began to suckle, Scully found herself reminiscing over the past couple of years' holiday seasons. Last year at Thanksgiving, Mulder had still been missing, but the one before that he had spent with her at her mother's house. She warmed at the memory. Her partner had finally gotten to meet her "elusive" brother Charlie and his wife and kids. Charlie and Mulder had hit it off quite well- unlike the unhappier meetings he'd had with her other brother, Bill, who gratefully had kept his distance from her partner the entire day and said nary a word. It was a little uneasy when the two of them accidentally went for the same sticky bun at the dinner table, but, thankfully, it remained a civil affair. And whenever Bill wasn't skulking about, it was obvious Mulder was having a marvelous time. Truthfully, he wasn't used to so many people gathering around him, but he did seem to enjoy being with her family- well, except for Bill. This past Thanksgiving, however, had not turned out so well. True, it had not had been as bad as last years', when he was still missing and she had no real idea as to whether he was alive or dead, on earth or some other, far away galaxy. Add that to the fact that she'd been suffering from morning sickness, and several times she had to excuse herself from the table to run into the bathroom to throw up half of her mother's wonderful dinner. (She had gotten around this by claiming to have suddenly come down with a stomach virus. With the knowledge that she was a doctor herself, nobody really questioned it, although she could see her mother's concern.) This year, she had her beautiful son with her and enjoyed showing him off to her relatives. Her younger brother Charlie and his family had not been able to attend this Thanksgiving, but of those family members that had shown up- including her older brother Bill, his wife Tara and their son Matthew- instantly adored him and accepted him. Unfortunately, Bill's adoration of the child did nothing to improve his opinion of the baby's father. In fact, it seemed to have lowered it, if that were at all possible. It had been pretty plain to all concerned of William's parentage, before she had even told anyone. The baby looked so much like Mulder, save for his blue eyes and fair hair- which was blond but leaning towards red- it couldn't have been more obvious than if she had put a tee shirt on the boy with the phrase, "Yes, I'm a Mulder!" printed on it. Mulder's absence only infuriated her older brother all the more. In Bill's eyes, the sorry son of a bitch had taken off- again!- and left his little sister with a child to raise and care for all by herself. To him, it was abandonment, plain and simple and just another reason for him to hate the guy. Scully had spent much of the evening defending Mulder to Bill, until she had finally tired of it and left the holiday gathering early, going home to an empty apartment, with only a young baby to keep her company. Thankfully, Monica Reyes had called her. Surprisingly, it had nothing to do with a case. She had only called to ask about William, who was getting over a cold. Their conversation veered off in several different directions, until she realized they had talked for over an hour. She'd had to end the phone chat because William needed to be fed and changed, but she realized afterwards that it had helped her out of her bad mood. Monica was an... interesting person to say the least. She seemed to be half Melissa and half Mulder; two people Dana loved very much. Monica, besides having delivered her child- Mulder's son- had managed to endear herself even more to the normally reserved, not easily trusting, Agent Scully, just by being Monica. Though she would have a tough time showing it, Dana was actually thrilled to have a girlfriend again, after years of losing friends to her career. The fact that Monica's life was similarly complicated made things easier. Neither would be offended if the other couldn't meet up for coffee or an afternoon movie every week. The X-Files had a life of its own; it was a jealous lover, and did not care to be forgotten about in lieu of outside interests. But within the X-Files circle, the people trapped inside of it could reach out to one another, offering comfort, companionship, friendship. And in her and Mulder's case, something even more special and precious. Unconditional love, rooted in friendship, but escalating to that of the be all end all of human existence... the love of a soul mate, a significant other... a romantic partnership. Sighing wistfully, Scully had to add, not to mention the best love life I've ever had. Intimacy had never been her strong suit, both in the physical and the emotional sense. She'd always had trouble opening up to others. And perhaps it had been that way with Mulder as well. But the magical part of the story was that he had been able to unlock the secrets of her heart, her very soul. Once she had finally let her hair down, so to speak, and allowed herself to be, well, herself, Scully truly found her soul mate, the love of her life and the most ardent and satisfying lover she had ever known. Another tune started up on the Brenda Lee CD and Scully, recalling this song, felt another twinge of pain in her chest. Why the hell had she even bothered with Christmas music? Despite the fact that it didn't really feel like Christmas without Mulder around anyway, she couldn't seem to find a Christmas album to put in that didn't have at least one or two sad and depressing songs. Ugh! What happened to singing about red-nosed reindeers, snowmen coming to life and jolly, fat men that left presents under the tree? As she absently patted the baby's back, William gurgled, then spit up on the silk blouse that she had forgotten to change out of after returning home from work. With a sigh, she put William into his playpen in the living room and ran to her bedroom, searching for a fresh shirt. She slipped out of her work clothes and put her pajamas on. It wasn't even seven o'clock yet, but she already felt like she was ready to drop. At the last minute, she changed her pajama top for one of Mulder's old, gray tee shirts. It was one of several that she had "stolen" from him and purposely had not washed, so that she could discern his personal scent on the soft, worn fabric. "Mulder," she sighed with longing, as she inhaled deeply into the shirt. Damn, I'm just determined to be depressed tonight, aren't I? Without even thinking, her attention returned to the Christmas song coming out through the state-of-the-art speakers the Lone Gunmen had insisted on buying and installing for her. "Oh, soon it will be time for Santa Claus. And surely he will bring you back because... Without you here beside me, my world will be so gray And Christmas will be just another lonely day (another lonely day)! Another lonely day (Another lonely day)..." Scully sat there, holding William on her lap, willing herself to listen to the sappy, contrived, but unfortunately true sentiment of the song. "Stupid Brenda Lee, I hate you!" she muttered under her breath, even as she was smiling at her son and kissing his brow. "Wherever you are, I hope your Christmas sucks..." In a small house in New Mexico, a man and a boy sat together on a worn, faded couch, viewing "Home Alone 2: Lost in New York" on their television, a large bowl of popcorn placed between them. The boy seemed pretty interested, watching as a youngster named Kevin McCallister had somehow managed to sneak off to New York by himself, while his family had traveled to Florida. "My family's in Florida and I'm in New York..." Kevin said in realization, waggling his eyebrows mischievously at the camera. The boy watching from the couch laughed. The man sitting beside him didn't seem to notice Kevin's mirth, or his young friend's amusement. His thoughts were narrowed down to a beautiful, petite redhead and a tiny infant with that redhead's lovely blue eyes and- he still cringed at this- his own nose. He sighed, his lashes fluttering, as he closed his eyes for a moment to remember their faces. So beautiful, his mind recalled, and he smiled through a few unshed tears. Scully, God how I miss you, and our son. I'd even change his crappy diapers, if only I could be there with you guys right now... "Mulder, do you mind?" the boy sitting next to him grunted in annoyance. "I'm trying to eat popcorn. I don't want to be thinking about poopy diapers. Gross!" "I can't help it," Mulder mumbled. "I just miss them. And now it's only three days till Christmas- William's first- and I'm... I'm going to miss it." This time a few tears did fall, cascading down his cheek, dampening his five o'clock shadow. "Oh jeez," the boy groaned. "This is even worse than having to put up with your... your sex memories! Come on, Mulder! Snap out of it. Scully wouldn't want you to be like this. Especially not on Christmas." Mulder seized the boy's arm, giving it a light squeeze. "Can you tell, Gibson?" he asked hopefully. "Do you know what she's thinking?" "I already told you, I'm too far away from her to read her thoughts," Gibson explained, his voice going softer, the tone suddenly more sympathetic. It was as if he had forgotten Mulder's anxieties. While Gibson had been used to hiding out by now and usually preferred solitude to having to listen to everyone's inane thoughts, he had not realized how difficult it would be for anyone else- especially someone like Fox Mulder. The former FBI agent had a strong, loud mind, that was constantly whirring and moving and making observations, replaying images and events, stored back all the way from early childhood. Having an eidetic memory was hard for a tormented soul like Mulder, who often unconsciously made himself relive the most traumatizing events of his forty-one years. And the only thing worse than Mulder being trapped inside of his complex, over-active mind was Gibson being trapped inside of his complex, over-active mind. Plus, the man really had it bad for Agent Scully. When he wasn't fantasizing about their more intimate moments together, he was mourning the loss of her presence and feeling tortured over his separation from her and their child. It was making him beyond miserable and taking Gibson unwillingly along for the ride. "I wonder if she's thinking of me," Mulder whispered, not actually trying to annoy his companion, but unable to stop his pathetic lamenting by this point. "You know she is," Gibson reassured him, patting the man's arm before scooting further away from him. The man's depression and loneliness was starting to get to him again. "But I thought you couldn't read her mind so far away," Mulder challenged, not meaning to be contradictory; he was just sad. "It doesn't take a mind reader to know how you guys feel about each other," Gibson reminded him. "Remember, I've seen your..." and he paused, his adolescent mind reeling from the thought, "... eh, intimate moments in your mind. She loves you, trust me." Mulder's face began to blush almost as much as Gibson's. He had never intended to introduce his young charge' in the ways of procreation- especially his own, but the times he'd spent in Scully's arms, while too few and far in between, were precious to him, and he found himself going over each time with affection and longing. He'd had to do something on all those lonely, sleepless nights. "Um, sorry about that," he said, his tone low and his expression filled with shame. "That's okay, Mulder," Gibson managed to smile, albeit awkwardly. "Pretty much everybody has those kinds of thoughts once in awhile. At least you're not thinking about stupid "Baywatch" episodes anymore. Agent Scully is a lot... prettier than those fake looking... um..." "Yeah, I hear ya," Mulder agreed quietly, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Damn, here I go corrupting yet another innocent mind... Gibson easily picked up on Mulder's guilty vibe. "Don't sweat it, Mulder. I once lived among a lot of people, remember? And believe it or not, many of them have even dirtier minds than you." Mulder chuckled, partially relieved, but still wondering who could have a dirtier mind than he and what that person might be thinking. He decided better than to ask, or to give it another thought. No need to give Gibson something else to complain about. "Um... thanks... I guess." Both turned their attention back to the old television set. The scene had Kevin riding around in the back of a taxicab, and enjoying the sights of New York City. A song was playing. "...people window shopping on 5th Avenue All I want for Christmas is you! I gotta know- nobody ought to be alone on Christmas Nobody ought to be alone on Christmas Nobody ought to be all alone on Christmas..." "God!" That's when Mulder lost it. He wiped at his eyes, sniffling, and he jumped up from the couch to retrieve a tissue and compose himself. Gibson Praise shook his head. "Oh, I knew I should have chosen to watch the Grinch!" "Dana, I really think you and William ought to come with me out to San Diego. Charlie and Jenny and the kids will be there, too, you know. Please? And you know Bill and Tara and Matthew would love to see you." "Right Mom," Scully spoke sarcastically into the phone, as she puttered around the kitchen in her apartment. "I'm sure Bill would just love to see me. That way, he'd have an even bigger audience for when he starts insulting my partner again." Maggie Scully sighed into the phone. Of all the traits her youngest daughter had to inherit from her father, why did it have to be his stubborn attitude? "Dana," she replied gently, but was unable to hide a hint of exasperation, "I've already talked to Bill about the way he acted at Thanksgiving. And he knows you wouldn't be willing to come to California with me if he kept up his... his... anti-Fox compaign. I made sure he knew that." Dana chuckled quietly, easily picturing her mother threatening her big, tall brother with bodily harm, and subduing him into submission with just a hard stare. Maggie Scully was willful, if nothing else, a skill she had honed to perfection raising four almost as willful children nearly on her own. Suddenly, she thought of her father, Bill Sr. as well as her sister Melissa and her mood darkened once again. It wasn't bad enough that her lover was missing, now she had to dredge up long ago memories of deceased family members. "Damn," she whispered. Her mother heard the quiet curse, but wisely refrained from mentioning it. She realized her daughter was under a great deal of stress. Despite Dana's assurance that she and Fox were committed to one another, the fact remained that Mulder was currently out of the picture. Add that to her daughter's strange and time-consuming job, and the fact that she was trying to raise a baby all by herself... well, stress was probably an understatement. "I wouldn't let Bill pick on Fox, Dana. I promise." "I know that, Mom, and I appreciate it, but... but the sentiment would still be there. Maybe he wouldn't say anything, but I would feel it. Every time he looked at me, or at... at William..." her voice trailed off, her throat constricting momentarily. Couldn't her family realize that if it hadn't been for Mulder, she would never have had her beloved son, the baby they all regarded so adoringly. "I... just couldn't take Bill berating my partner, Mom- the father of my child, by the way- whether he said anything aloud or not." "Honey," Maggie murmured sympathetically, "you can't know what anyone is really thinking. Besides, technically, Fox isn't your partner anymore and..." "He is my partner, Mom," Scully spoke up, a little too harshly. She forced herself to calm down before continuing, not wanting to take her anger on her brother out on their mom. Maggie actually loved Mulder and she knew that. "Maybe we don't work together at the FBI anymore, but he'll always be my partner. My life partner." "You're right, Dana, I'm sorry," Maggie amended. She didn't really understand her daughter's and Fox's need for this self-imposed separation. Yes, Dana had explained, somewhat, how Mulder's going underground would keep everyone safe, and possibly enable them to uncover the biggest conspiracy the world has ever known, but Mrs. Scully didn't see how keeping a man away from his family could save the world. Yet, as it was Dana's and Fox's decision, and as it had already been decided and executed before she'd even had a chance to talk them out of it, she usually kept her mouth shut about it. "I just wish," she found herself murmuring in spite of her best efforts not to, "that you two had at least gotten married before... well, before he went away." "In our hearts, Mom," Dana told her in no uncertain terms, "we already are." "I know that," Maggie grumbled, "but it would have been nice to help you buy a wedding gown, maybe walk you down the aisle." Scully smiled, and her mother seemed to sense it. "I don't know, Mom. Can you imagine the kind of wedding Mulder and I would have?" "It would be very nice," Mrs. Scully scolded her playfully. "You could have decorated with UFO garland, and had it on Halloween." As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she bit her lip, unsure of what her daughter's reaction might be. She was trying to be silly and knock Dana out of her bad mood and into the holiday spirit, but she was never sure how her third child would take the joke. To her great relief, Dana laughed out loud, and for a moment, the two women had the fun fantasy of planning such a wedding. "Yeah, Mom, we could have Chewbacca and Mr. Spock be groomsman." "Princess Leia could be your maid-of-honor," Maggie piped up. "And Ripley and Barbarella could be the brides maids." "And Captain Kirk could marry us on the Enterprise," Dana giggled. "Oh, really, Dana," Mrs. Scully said sternly, "wouldn't Captain Picard be a much better choice?" Scully laughed some more, then paused to ask, "Why?" "Well, Captain Kirk is such a womanizer..." "True," Dana chuckled. "And we all know how protective- hell, jealous- Mulder can be. I'd hate to see the headline the next morning: Captain Kirk phasered to death on the Enterprise by FBI agent for hitting on his bride." "It would create a scandal," Maggie had to agree. She stopped. She could hear sniffling. "Dana? Honey?" "I'm sorry, Mom," her daughter whimpered into the phone. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? I... I didn't mean to upset you. I was just making fun, trying to lighten the mood a little, that's all." "I know, Mom, I know. It's just..." and Mrs. Scully heard Dana Scully- the strongest person she knew- start to sob into the phone. "I... God, how I miss him. My partner... my Mulder. I- I don't even know where he is, Mom. I don't know if he's safe, if he's getting enough sleep or eating right. What if he isn't taking care of himself? He tends to neglect himself when he gets depressed. And I know he was always a self-described loner, but he wasn't really. He wasn't a loner at all, he was just... lonely. But he wasn't lonely when he was with me. I- he told me that once..." She stopped speaking, her silence ladled with despondency. "I know all of that, darling," Mrs. Scully soothed. She hated for her daughter to be so depressed and upset, especially during the holidays, but she had the feeling that Dana needed to get this out, to say it, recognize and acknowledge it. Once she did, she could begin to heal. She realized there would be a large hole in her daughter's life- in her heart- for as long as Mulder was gone, but she needed to try and come to terms with his absence, and learn to lean on others for support until he returned- particularly her family. "Dana, I realized that he loved you the first time I met him." "What!? When was that?" Dana asked, somewhat more composed now, and longing to hear a new story about her beloved. Mrs. Scully could hear the younger woman blowing her nose away from the phone. She sighed, but continued, knowing that hearing anything about Mulder- even something that had happened years ago- might help her cope. "It was when you went missing, when that... that Barry person had abducted you." She paused, surprised at how much anger she still had for the man, even though she knew he had been mentally disturbed and that he was long dead. "I remember seeing Fox that first time. He was... well, there's hardly words to describe the look of pain and anguish on his face. We met at your apartment, while the police were looking around." "What did he say?" Scully asked breathlessly. "I don't remember exactly," Maggie said. "It was quite awhile ago, and I was so upset and out of my mind with worry. But he reassured me, made sure I was okay. He soon became very important in my life during those months you were gone." "How so?" "He would, eh... report to me every day, for lack of a better word. He discussed any leads, however outlandish they might have been. He wanted to give me hope, keep you with us, even though you weren't there. He had found your cross and tried to give it back to me. When I saw the sadness and heartbreak in his eyes, I couldn't bring myself to take it. I had no idea at the time whether Fox was religious or not, but I wanted him to keep a piece of you with him; a part of your faith, so that he might draw strength from it as well. He wore it until you returned." "He did?" Scully asked in surprise. Mulder had never told her any of this. Sure, he had begrudgingly let her in on facts from her case, but he had conveniently omitted the personal hell he had gone through during her time away. "Yes," Maggie replied matter of factly. "After awhile, I started inviting him to dinner with me on Sundays. He only refused once. I asked him again the next week, and he hesitated, but finally agreed. Then, after a lot of hemming and hawing on his part, we mutually decided to make it an every week thing." "Was he... what did you talk about?" "You, of course," Mrs. Scully told her with a soft chuckle. "At first, it was only just about your case. But it didn't take long before he was telling me about your skill and bravery on the job and I would share some of my fondest memories of your childhood." At this, Scully groaned. "Oh, Mom! You didn't tell him anything embarrassing, did you?" "Well, I didn't tell him about the time you wet yourself when the neighbor's dog chased you down the street when you were six, if that's what you mean." "Mom," Dana groaned again, feeling her cheeks redden at just the mention of that humiliating experience. Still, she silently thanked her mother for keeping that one to herself. "Then, what did you tell him?" "Oh, there are too many stories for me to count, honey," Maggie said, unable to stifle a yawn. She glanced at the clock and realized it was coming close to midnight. "Anyway, the point is, we shared. We shared our memories of you. We shared our fear over your disappearance. And we... we shared our love for you, in those stories." She felt herself tear up, trying not to cry. She did not want to upset her daughter again. "Um," Scully murmured, before she herself began to cry again, in spite of her mother's best efforts to hold any tears at bay. "Dana? Honey, please don't cry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." "You didn't," her daughter assured her, wiping away the tears with her fingers. "Well, it's getting late, dear. I'm going to have to get to bed. Are you sure you don't want to come to San Diego with me?" "Yes, I'm sure," Scully replied shakily, still trying to compose herself. "I think it's best if William and I just stay home for Christmas." "All... right," Mrs. Scully reluctantly said. She certainly did not agree with her daughter's decision to go it alone, but she knew there would be nothing she could say that would change Dana's mind. Her daughter was just too stubborn, just like her father had been. "Well, I'll stop by tomorrow to drop off your Christmas gifts." "Mom?" "Yes, Dana?" "You already gave me the best gift of all." Maggie smiled, understanding completely. Her story about Mulder had warmed her daughter's heart. She was just glad that she didn't tell her about all the photo albums the man had looked at- including the ones chronicling Dana's awkward teenage years. They said their good nights and hung up simultaneously. Getting ready for bed, Dana sat down by the nightstand and whispered her prayers. She made a quick trip to the bathroom, then checked on William one more time before slipping under the covers and turning off the lamp next to her. Reaching under her pillow, her hand felt around, then retrieved another one of Mulder's dirty tee shirts. She brought it to her nose and inhaled, then clutched it tightly to her, tucking it partially under her chin, reveling in the warm memories it brought to her as much as the physical warmth. "Good night, Mulder," she whispered out loud. "I love you..." She was asleep within minutes. Scully's mother had called her early that morning before work to tell her that her flight had been changed at the last minute, and she would have to ship her gifts to her overnight once in San Diego. Dana found the whole situation rather strange, to say the least, and her mother had been elusive as to explanations, but the fact was, Scully was so depressed about the upcoming holiday, she did not even bother to push her mom into giving her a more detailed and reasonable explanation. If Mulder had been there, he would have classified it an X-File. Of course, if Mulder had been there, she wouldn't be so damn depressed and they might have even gone to California with her mother for the holiday. Scully sighed, looking in on William, who was still asleep, then popping in for a quick shower. She shaved her legs, mostly out of habit than anything else. Who was going to appreciate them, much less touch them? It wasn't like her co- workers really paid attention to such a detail or even cared one way or the other. It wasn't as if William would ever say, "Wow, Mom! Your legs are just so smooth!" While she was having her coffee and getting William fed, Scully sat on her sofa, listening to the radio playing another sad Christmas song. Darlene Love's soulful voice spilled out through the speakers. It was a song she knew, and to her great dismay, found herself singing along to the words, absorbing them, understanding them, living them. "(Christmas) The snow's comin' down (Christmas) I'm watching it fall (Christmas) Lot's of people around (Christmas) Baby, please come home (Christmas) The church bells in town (Christmas) They're ringin' a song (Christmas) What a happy sound (Christmas) Baby, please come home! They're singing "Deck the Halls" But it's not like Christmas at all I remember when you were here And all the fun we had last year! Oh, baby please come home! Baby, please come home..." Dana had to stop, once she realized how late it was getting to be and that she had cried all over the back of her son's downy head. "I'm sorry, William," she whispered, kissing the boy's round cheek. "I guess I'm just missing Daddy right now..." Since today was her last day at Quantico before the holiday break, she was bringing William with her to work, as she was only planning on doing paperwork in her office. She would leave early, stop at the store for some last minute Christmas necessities, then head home to a lonely apartment where only she, her son and the memories of the greatest love she'd ever known, dwelled. Back in the small house in New Mexico, Mulder had just gotten done talking to the Lone Gunmen on a secured line. After the call, he threw the non-traceable cell phone away, walking from the kitchen into the living room. Gibson sat in front of the television set, wasting an afternoon away watching Home Alone 3. "Everything set?" Gibson asked, even though he already knew the answer. He always knew the answer really, but understood that nobody else he knew could read minds- Mulder included, except maybe for Agent Scully's- and he realized that most people needed to have some sort of verbal interaction to keep from going insane. "Yeah, the guys have it all in play. Scully's going to get the Christmas surprise of her life. I actually can't wait till Christmas, even though I won't really be there." His glee suddenly turned toward the morose. Gibson tried to keep from rolling his eyes. Even if he couldn't read minds, the open-book expressions Mulder displayed lately would easily let him know what the man was thinking and feeling at any given moment. He had a strong case of the missing-Scully-blues. The boy tried to cheer him up. "Want to watch Home Alone 3 with me? It just started." "Nah," Mulder sighed, heading towards his bedroom. "The franchise just wasn't the same after Culkin left." He stopped, shook his head clear. Did I just say that out loud? he wondered. "Yes, you did," Gibson answered him, grinning wickedly. Unable to stop blushing, Mulder made a hasty exit, hurried into his room and flopped down on the bed. Flipping on the radio, Mulder reached for the framed photograph setting on his bedside table. The picture was of his lover and son that he had taken himself before he had left them behind in Washington to face the world alone, while he hid out like a coward in New Mexico. William, his beautiful baby boy, lay in his mother's loving arms, sleeping and drooling on her sleeve. Scully was smiling at the child she held and at the man behind the camera, whom she loved just as dearly. But Mulder could see the sadness in her eyes. It was taken after they had made the decision to separate for now in the hopes that they would be safe enough for a future together. Mulder had taken pictures of his wonderful family before the warnings had been given and the plans had been made, but he kept this particular photo at his bedside for a reason. William's sleeping face gave Mulder the daily reminder to always be on his toes, and to try to find some way to get back to them soon- not to drift off to sleep, or to lose sight of his new mission, his new purpose in life. And Scully's expression- both happy and sad- was a reminder to Mulder of the sadness he must endure without them, but also of the happiness being reunited with them would bring. Carefully holding the precious picture against his chest, Mulder glanced out his window, watching storm clouds gathering from the east, as the sky darkened, even though it was only mid-day. He again became aware of the radio playing. The song on currently was a sad, Christmas song. Bono from U2 was crooning with great agony. It was a song he knew, and sadly, one he could easily identify with. Without even realizing he was doing so until it was too late to stop, Mulder found himself singing along to the song, absorbing the words, understanding them, living them. "(Christmas) Pretty lights on the tree "(Christmas) I'm watching them shine "(Christmas) you should be here with me "(Christmas) Baby, please come home! They're singing Deck the Halls But it's not like Christmas at all I remember when you were here And all the fun we had last year! (Christmas) If there was a way (Christmas) I'd hold back these tears (Christmas) But it's Christmas day (Christmas) Baby, please come home! (Christmas! Christmas!) Oh, Baby, please come home Baby, please come home! Ohhh..." As the song ended, Mulder began to sob in earnest, hot, wet tears streaming down the sides of his face and falling into his ears. He sat up, wiping away the evidence of his grief, but it was too late. He saw Gibson standing in the doorway watching him with knowing, sympathetic eyes. They were the eyes on a young man's face, but with an old man's soul. And Gibson understood his grief, having listened to Mulder's sadness, whether it had been spoken out loud or not. "You okay, Mulder?" the boy asked. Gone was any of his usual annoyance and frustration. "Um, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Mulder flinched inwardly. That's Scully's- "Scully's line," Gibson finished for him. "Yeah, I know. You think she used to say it to you all the time to keep you out of her heart." He sniffled. "She used to." "Maybe she just used to say it to protect you from her pain. I'm sure she realized how much guilt you put on yourself for anything that goes wrong around you, especially when it relates to her. She didn't want you always feeling so down because something bad had happened to her." "Nah, I think she just didn't want me know how she was really feeling at the time," Mulder corrected the youth. Gibson offered a smile. "Yeah, maybe that, too. She was always a rather private person. I used to have a hard time reading her thoughts sometimes." "Was that before or after she found out you could read minds?" he asked in curiosity. "Both. Agent Scully is a tough nut to crack." To Gibson's delight, Mulder actually laughed. "Yep, that's her, all right. A real nut. After all, she fell in love with me, didn't she? And I'm going to quote you on that someday. Tell her what you said." "Right," the boy called him on it. "I'm sure when you see her again, the first thing to pop into your head will be to tell her I called her a nut." Mulder smiled sheepishly, averting his eyes as his thoughts veered in the direction of the erotic. "Okay," he admitted, "maybe it won't be the first thing I'll say." Gibson motioned to him with a hand, purposely not commenting on Mulder's latest mind delve into the intimate details of his and Scully's love life and trying to erase the image of his companion shoving his tongue down his partner's throat. "Come on, Mulder. You promised we would decorate the tree today. And I'll even put on another movie for you if you want." Setting the picture back onto his nightstand, Mulder stood up and joined Gibson, wrapping a fatherly arm around him as they ventured back to the living room. "Do you have the movie Scrooged?" he asked hopefully. "No, but I have The Muppet Christmas Carol." "Even better," Mulder chuckled, and actually meant it. He and his young charge' began to decorate the tree just as Michael Caine began to interact with a bunch of furry muppets. And for the moment, life was okay. Scully just got home from stopping at the grocery store after work. With the skill that only a single, working mother could have, she managed to carry in her son in his car seat, as well as three full bags of groceries. Carefully setting William's car seat into the playpen (while the boy slept placidly), she ventured into the kitchen to put her groceries away. Most of it had been jars of baby food and some yogurt and fresh vegetables, but in light of her son's first holiday, Scully had splurged a little and bought some eggnog and the ingredients to make her family's famous gingerbread cookies recipe. She recalled having made them for Mulder a few times, during their last few Christmases spent together. He had loved them. Ate them up like they were going out of style and, with just a simple "please" and one of his trademark puppy dog faces, he'd gotten Scully to whip a fresh batch right then and there while he watched and waited. She had made them last year, too, hoping beyond hope that he would be there to eat them with her. When Christmas came and went without him, she had thrown away the whole batch, left completely uneaten. She was not able to bring herself to eat them without him. After all, she had made them for him. She knew that this year she would not be able to eat any with him because of his absence, but she did have his son here, and though he wouldn't be able to eat them either, she could share with him the wonderful aromas and the tradition of making them, something she had shared with her own mother, and one that her mother had shared with hers. She wanted her son's first Christmas to be filled with as much joy and happiness and tradition as possible. She knew it would be difficult enough without having Mulder around to help out and to enjoy the holiday together with them, but she was determined not to mope about and bring down everyone's Christmas spirit, particularly William's. Maybe her son couldn't talk yet, but she knew that infants were intuitive to their parents' moods. She didn't want the boy sensing anything too unhappy from her on Christmas. At least, she was determined to try to be cheerful and make the holiday shine. After spending the evening making dinner as well as several batches of cookies- which she promised to give most of to the Lone Gunmen, and to Monica and John and Skinner at work- she put her son to bed and headed off to bed herself. She was exhausted. She was exhausted from work, and from taking care of the baby alone, but most of all, she was exhausted from having to pretend she was happy for the sake of the holidays and for those around her that only watched her with worried, knowing eyes, concerned for her and wondering if she was really "okay". How can I be okay? I've got a baby to take care of, and the father of that baby- the love of my life- is gone, his whereabouts unknown, and I'm sad and depressed on Christmas and trying not to show it for William's sake and for mom's and everyone else who cares about me. All I want to do is lay in bed and cry all day, but I can't do that. I have to be strong. Strong for my son, and for his father, and even for myself. Because if I'm not, then there's no way I can do this... That sobering thought put her to bed, and she fell asleep, dreaming the strangest dream, that Skinner was Santa Claus, John and Monica were his elves, and she kept asking for Mulder for Christmas. The worst part about the entire, bizarre experience was that she woke up before finding out whether she got him or not. "Damn, I don't even get him in my dreams," she sighed sadly, wiping away a few stray tears, and suddenly wishing fervently that she had taken her mother up on her offer and gone with her to San Diego for Christmas. Mulder woke up bright and early on Christmas Eve morning. He sighed. This was the big day. Today was the day that his plans went into play. He hoped they turned out all right. He was really nervous about everything and wished so desperately to be there in person. There was nothing he wanted more than to send a big package to Scully's door, only to pop out of it himself when she was alone in her apartment, but he knew that wouldn't be possible this Christmas. Maybe next Christmas... he thought with a sad smile. And maybe I could just wear those mistletoe boxers for her that she bought me last year... He remembered after his return from the dead, after she had gone through a terrible scare during her late pregnancy- the partial abruption- and he had presented her with Samantha's old doll as a keepsake. Later that evening, she had brought out four wrapped boxes and set them on the coffee table in front of him. He had asked her what was going on, especially after noticing that the wrapping paper had been of the Christmas persuasion, and she then explained that these were the gifts he missed getting last Christmas and that she wanted him to have them now. Without further ado, he'd ripped into the first package to find a new leather jacket. He smiled with glee, then moved onto his second gift, which was one of those DVD players that had suddenly become so popular. The third present went with the second, being Close Encounters of the Third Kind on DVD. "Wow," he'd said, smiling mischievously at her, "how'd you get my life story on film, Scully?" to which she'd laughed appreciatively. Only the fourth present remained, and he remembered how Scully's demeanor had suddenly grown shy and evasive. Her porcelain skin began to blush and she averted her eyes as he unwrapped the small box. "Jeez, Scully, what the hell is it, a dirty movie, or something?" he had asked in response to her reaction of his merely lifting the gift up in his hands. "I..." she'd begun, then turned away again. "Well, maybe you shouldn't..." "Shouldn't what?" he had asked, giving the box a hard shake and enjoying the way she squirmed and more curious than ever about the contents of the mysterious package. "Well, I bought that for you not long after you'd gone missing, right after we started..." And her voice had trailed off again, this time with great sadness and longing in her tone. "You may not... want it... from me... anymore," she'd murmured softly, staring down at her huge belly and hiding the tears forming in her eyes. "What the hell is it, Scully?" he had asked again, growing suddenly confused and concerned over this latest mood swing. He knew pregnant women could be moody and hormonal, but this outburst seemed like something more. With newfound trepidation, he had carefully opened the box. In it he had found the Christmas boxer shorts. They were red in color, and the green mistletoe emblazoned on them appeared right over the opening in the front. Though Mulder was red/green color blind, the message of the article of clothing came across loud and clear and in living color. "Whoa," was all he'd said, realizing that if he'd had any trouble remembering if they had actually ever consummated their relationship before his disappearance, this little number more than cleared up any confusion. Her face bright red, her eyes blinking back tears, Scully had taken the underwear from his hand and snatched it away. "I'm sorry," she had mumbled, unable to look him in the eye. "I never meant to... to embarrass you, or to assume that we were still... I mean, I... I'm sorry..." She had struggled to stand up, so she could go off and hide away her humiliation, Mulder had gathered. Instead, he had gently tugged her back down next to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Scully." "I... sorry," she had said again, then began to cry in earnest. "There's nothing to be sorry for," he had assured her. "I mean, sure I can't really make out the colors too well, but that's to be expected, seeing as they are Christmas boxers, right?" "Um... I..." she had seemed at a loss for words. It was then that Mulder had pulled her closer and gave her the embrace she had been waiting for ever since he had awoken a few weeks earlier. "I love them, Scully," he had whispered into her hair. "In fact, they're probably my favorite of all four gifts." She had looked up at him with teary eyes, sniffling and shamelessly wiping her nose against his shirt. "Really? Even more than the DVD player?" "Of course," he had assured her with a chuckle, running his fingers through her soft hair, relishing the silky feel of it and all of the memories doing such a thing evoked. "I mean I certainly can't wear the DVD player in hopes of seducing my favorite pregnant woman, now can I?" Mulder returned to the present, having already showered and dressed, recalling with a bittersweet sigh, how Scully had then fallen, sobbing uncontrollably, into his warm embrace, and they had held each other, and kissed passionately. Though he hadn't asked her at the time and though she did not offer him any answers, it was then he knew, without a doubt, that the baby Scully was carrying in her womb was most definitely his. And it was then he knew that she was still madly in love with him and wanted him to be with her forever. It was then he knew with the utmost clarity where he fit in. Wiping away a few stray tears, Mulder pulled open his jeans and looked lovingly down at the Christmas boxers he'd been given on that day last spring. "One of the best Christmas presents I ever got," he said with certainty, and then he marveled approvingly at the healthy bulge appearing in those boxers from the memory alone. Gibson walked by and made a face. "Ugh! Mulder, if you're going to be looking down your pants, can't you at least shut the door?" The former G-man made a face right back at Gibson, while quickly buttoning up his fly. "I don't know what good that would do since you can just read my mind and know what I'm thinking about, anyway!" "True, but at least I wouldn't have to see it." Mulder rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm heading out. Gonna check out the electronics store, look for that cord I need and then hit the post office. You going to be all right for a couple of hours?" "Sure," Gibson replied brightly. "After all, I've got Home Alone 4 waiting for me in the VCR." "Yecch, the worst one yet, I'll bet," Mulder grunted. "I tell you, they should have stopped after the second one!" "I know, I know, not the same ever since... Macaulay left the franchise," the boy mocked him. "I'd tell you to shut up, but then I guess I don't really have to," Mulder replied with a grin. He mussed up Gibson's hair, then put on that same leather jacket Scully had given him along with the boxers and left. "And for your information," Gibson retorted, only after knowing that his companion would not hear him, "every guy thinks he has a big one!" Scully stared out the window, watching the snow falling quietly, blanketing everything outside in pristine, white wonder. It was beautiful and, when she closed her eyes for a moment, she could actually picture herself with Mulder, standing behind her and wrapping loving arms around her waist as they watched the snow fall together. Can you see it, Mulder? she wondered. Can you see the snow falling? Can you feel the chill from the cold glass pane of the window? Can you feel the warmth of the fireplace at your back, and the warmth of me filling your arms? Can you smell the gingerbread cookies and hear little William gurgling from his playpen? Can you taste my kisses, or smell the perfume on my neck? Can you hear me whisper, "I love you"? Just as the tears threatened to fall, Scully was startled out of her reverie by a knock at the door. "Who could that be?" she asked out loud, glancing at William for a moment, who seemed equally clueless, then heading over towards the door as she wiped at her eyes. She looked through the peephole, then sighed, and unlocked the chain, smiling in spite of herself. "What are you guys doing here?" she asked, inwardly laughing at the festive attire her guests wore. "Why, we're here for the Christmas party, of course," Byers told her, walking in carrying a cheese and cracker platter. Gone was his usual dark jacket. In its place, he wore a green and red sweater. Even his tie was in holiday spirit, as it was red and sported a picture of a reindeer on it. "Yeah, it's six thirty, isn't it?" Langly asked, checking his watch to confirm it. He came in holding a bottle of champagne and a box of Christmas cookies. He wore his usual jeans and rock 'n' roll tee shirt, but on top of his head he sported a red Santa hat. On the end of the hat was a jingle bell, which clinked with every step he took. "And I am the ghost of Christmas future," Frohike said, venturing in, wearing a Santa Claus tee shirt under his battered, leather jacket and carrying a large box, full of wrapped gifts. At this, Scully did laugh. "I see," she murmured, then turned as the baby started to cry. "Oh, William-" "It's okay, Dana," Byers said, setting the cheese tray down and retrieving the baby himself. "Hi there, little guy. Merry Christmas." Langly set his stuff on the coffee table next to the cheese tray and stood beside Byers, giving the baby's cheek a pat. "Yeah, little dude. How's the world's youngest conspiracy nut doing?" "Conspiracy nut?" Dana repeated with an incredulous grin. "Well, he'll probably take after his old man, after all. Won't you, Mulder Jr.?" Frohike said, glancing over at the baby with a silly expression that made William giggle and he set the box down on the couch, then pulled something from his pocket. "Speaking of which, Mulder wanted me to give you this." She saw that in his hand he held a sprig of mistletoe. With an indulgent smile, Scully leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek, then offered him her own cheek. "Uh, I think Mulder mentioned something about tongue," Frohike stated, watching Dana's eyes grow wide. "Frohike!" Byers shouted at him. "Gross, man," Langly added in agreement. "What are you guys really doing here?" Scully asked, wisely refraining from commenting on Frohike's latest statement. "What's this party you're talking about?" Before any of them could answer, there was a knock on the door. With a confused expression, Dana answered it to find Assistant Director Skinner standing in her doorway, still dressed in his office attire, but looking very much out of place carrying a large pot of poinsettias in one of his large hands. In the other, he held a beautifully decorated, store bought Christmas cake. "Sir?" Scully asked, completely dumbfounded. "Agent Scully," he replied, smiling, albeit, feeling a little awkward. "Merry Christmas." "M-Merry Christmas," she murmured, just standing there and staring at him. "Um... may I come in?" he asked after a long moment. "Oh, yes, of course," Dana said apologetically, stepping aside for him to enter, then closing the door behind him. Skinner walked in, noticed the Gunmen and headed over, shaking hands with Byers and giving William's little hand a light squeeze. "I... what is..." Scully stammered, but before she could release a coherent sentence, there was another knock at the door. With a raised eyebrow, she opened it. "Agent Doggett?" she sputtered. "Yeah, hi ya, Merry Christmas," he said, also wearing his suit from work and holding two gaily wrapped Christmas presents under one arm, and a bag of side dishes like potato salad and coleslaw in his other hand. He looked even more awkward and out of place than Skinner had a moment before. "How ya doin', Agent Scully?" "I'm... fine," she answered, "a little bewildered, but... fine..." "Great," he said, then made a little gesture with his hand. "May I...?" "Oh, yeah, sure, come on in," Scully told him, stepping aside to allow another unexpected visitor. "That's funny," she went on, starting to close the door again, "I would have thought that Agent Reyes would have been with-" "Hold that door!" someone called from down the hallway. Dana opened the door fully. "Monica," she said, a smile in her eyes, "what kept you?" "Sorry," Agent Reyes replied, oblivious to Scully's amusement. "I got held up in traffic. I had to stop home and pick up a few things." "I can see that," Scully said, grabbing a couple of the bags Monica was trying to carry all at once and letting her in. She noticed her friend's beautiful velvet red dress and felt the skirt swish against her leg as Monica turned around. Red velvet made her think of Christmases past, with her mother, her sister and herself in more of the same. "You look very nice," she commented. "Oh, thanks, Dana," Monica responded. "So do you." Scully glanced down at the simple dark slacks and white silk blouse she wore. It was nothing fancy. "But I'm not really..." "You look beautiful," Monica told her, smiling warmly. "Doesn't she, guys?" she asked of the men in the room, who were all watching the exchange, almost salivating over the two beautiful women in front of them. "Uh, yeah," they all mumbled sheepishly, averting their eyes and becoming suddenly interested in William, who was currently pulling on Byers' festive tie. "You look great, too, Mon," John Doggett had to add, then felt his ears grow hot as everyone stared at him for a moment. Frohike gave him a knowing poke in the ribs, while Skinner just sighed and muttered something like, "Not you, too? What is it about that X-Files office?" "Love in the basement, Skinman," Frohike stated, causing Doggett's ears to burn blood red. "Ain't nothing hotter than that!" "Don't call me that," Skinner grumbled at him. "Frohike!" Byers, Langly and Scully all groaned at him. Doggett momentarily avoided eye contact with anybody, and Scully was blushing furiously, realizing now more than ever that her relationship with Mulder was pretty much common knowledge, especially down at the Bureau. Monica merely grinned at them all, without a hint of embarrassment, her dark eyes twinkling with the reflection of the Christmas tree lights. While Skinner, Doggett and the gunmen occupied William's attention, Scully followed Monica into the kitchen, watching her remove some of the items from her numerous bags of goodies. "A turkey?" Dana squeaked, her eyes wide in surprise. "Monica, you made me a turkey?" "Would you have preferred a ham?" Reyes asked in all innocence. "Uh, no! No, a turkey is just great, but... I don't understand why you made it at all. Or why everyone is here." "We're here for the party," Monica replied no- nonsensely, emptying another bag filled with food items and going on to the bag filled with Christmas presents. "What party?" Scully demanded to know before softening her tone and leaning in close to whisper. "Monica, it's not that I'm not happy to see all of you, but I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about or why everyone is here." "What? Didn't you get an invitation?" the taller woman chuckled. "No. Did you... get one?" "As a matter of fact, I did," Monica said, and produced an invitation from her coat pocket. "See, it says right here, bring these items on the list, come at six thirty and be prepared to par- tay!" Dana took the invite from her friend and studied it carefully for a couple of minutes. "Oh, my God," she whispered, momentarily losing her breath. "This is... it's his handwriting. I... oh, Mulder..." She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. "Hey, it's all right," Monica said, wrapping a sisterly arm around her friend, trying to calm and steady her. "Dana, Mulder sent us all the invitations because he knew you would be lonely during the holidays and he doesn't want you to be." "I... I don't even know where he is... if he's okay and..." her sobs turning into hiccoughs, she quieted again, resting her titian head against Monica's shoulder. "Shh, I know, Dana," Agent Reyes murmured soothingly, as she gently rubbed her hand up and down Scully's trembling back. "But wherever he is, he wants you to be happy. I bet that would make him happy, too. He loves you." "I know," Scully sniffled, trying to compose herself before she ventured back into that room full of over-protective brotherly figures. "I love him, too. I just miss him so much... God, I can't believe he would do this for me." "Of course he would," her friend assured her. "And I... I can't believe that all of you would take time out of your own holiday plans to come here and be with... me..." "Of course we would," Monica told her in no uncertain terms. "We love you, too, you know. And there's no place else we would all rather be on Christmas." She gave Scully's shoulder a squeeze and kissed the smaller woman's cheek. "She's right, Dana," someone said from the doorway, and Scully looked up to see Skinner and all of her other party guests gathered there. Byers was still holding William, who was running tiny fingers over the man's beard and giggling happily at the strange sensation it produced. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold it in if her life depended on it, and realizing that everyone in her apartment right now were people that loved and cared about her, Scully broke down in Monica's arms, sobbing harder than she had all season. But the difference was, these were tears of happiness and joy, and in a rare moment of vulnerability, she allowed herself to cry in front of all of them, letting her guard down, and in turn, letting them in. Her friends were all too happy to offer her a bit of comfort, coming closer and enveloping her in the biggest group hug since the one that had aired in the last episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show over twenty years earlier. And she accepted the hug gratefully, without refusal, without insisting that she was fine and she didn't even bother to deny that she really needed and relished this rare bit of human kindness. Wherever you are, Mulder, she whispered in her mind, thank you. God, I love you and I miss you and wish you were here now...Thank you, darling. Thank you... Another knock came at the door, putting an end to the big lovefest. Scully wiped at her eyes, sniffling and said, "Jeez, I wonder who that could be? Everyone I know is already in this room." They all laughed, then stepped aside to let her pass into the living room so she could answer the door. She looked through the peephole, but could only see someone standing there carrying a large box. "Who is it?" she called. "Delivery for Dana Scully," a man's voice declared. "Oh, just a second," she said, recalling that her mother had said she was going to send her Christmas presents through Federal Express. "Monica, can you grab my purse? I need some cash for a tip." "I'll take care of it, Agent Scully," Doggett responded, pulling out a five dollar bill from his wallet. He handed it to her. "Thanks," she whispered, then opened the door. A man walked in and set the box down on the floor. As he turned around, Scully started to hand him the money. "Thank you," she said. "Is that all I'm worth? Five bucks?" asked a familiar voice. Her eyes grew wide. She had not seen this man in over two years, but she knew her little brother and his sarcasm anywhere. "Charlie?!" she gasped. "Hey, sis," he said, smiling and enveloping her into his arms. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice muffled against his coat. "Why, delivering your presents, of course. Which reminds me, I have some more in the hallway." "Oh," she said, wiping at the renewed tears and pulling away. "Let me help you with them." "That's okay," Charlie told her, "they can find their own way in." She stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" By way of reply, her entryway was suddenly filled with family members. "Surprise!" they all shouted gleefully. Dana saw her mother, her older brother Bill, and his wife Tara, carrying their son Matthew. She also saw Charlie's wife Jenny, and their three kids, sons Brandon and Joshua and her namesake, their daughter Dana. They all held more packages and bags of more food for the party Dana had not known about. "Mom!" Scully exclaimed. "Bill? Tara? Jenny! Kids!" "Hi, Aunt Dana," Brandon, Charlie's oldest child said, smirking at the shocked look on the woman's face. "How's it hanging, Aunt Dana?" Joshua, the precocious ten-year-old asked, to which his mom smacked him upside the head. Dana laughed, knowing that her young nephew had probably learned such language from his father. Her little brother was known for his colorful phraseology. As if in confirmation, Jenny eyed Charlie pointedly. "See, I told you he's just like you!" "But-but-but... what are you all doing here?" Scully stammered, stepping up to receive hugs and kisses from each new arrival. She picked up her six-year-old niece for a moment and rubbed noses with her, which was a Dana Scully tradition- for both of them. "We got Fox's invitation," Maggie explained, having already snatched her newest grandchild out of Byer's hands. "He knew how you'd be feeling without him, honey, and he didn't want you to be alone on Christmas." "He also knew how stubborn you would be and that you would refuse to go anywhere, or have anyone come over," Charlie stated next to her. He gave her a meaningful look, to which she averted her gaze. "Mr. Mulder had heard you refused my invitation to come spend Christmas in San Diego," Bill further explained. Scully inwardly cringed at her brother addressing her would-be husband and his would-be brother-in-law so formally, but it was certainly a lot nicer than what he'd been calling him on Thanksgiving. "How could he know that?" she asked, then glanced over at the Lone Gunmen who had taken it upon themselves to hook some other contraption to her already overloaded computer. All of them were smiling knowingly, and Byers tapped a finger to his noggin. She shook her head in disbelief. "And since he knew you wouldn't come to share Christmas with us," she heard Tara, her sister-in-law, pipe up, "he thought it would be nice to have everyone come here, to bring Christmas to you." "I... I don't know what to say..." Dana Scully murmured, overwhelmed by the volume of people in her apartment, as well as by the love and care they brought with them. "Well, I'll be damned," Skinner said, grinning from ear to ear. "Agent Scully is actually speechless. Figures only Mulder could manage that, even if he's not here to see it." Everyone chuckled in agreement. "Who says I'm not?" came another familiar voice, sounding sort of tinny and far away, but it was unmistakable nonetheless to everyone there, no one more so than Scully. "M-Mulder?" Scully asked, her heart pounding through her chest. "Over here, Scully, at the computer," the voice said, and Dana moved numbly through the crowd of people to her desk where her computer sat. On the screen, she saw one Fox Mulder, who gestured for her to sit. It was then she noticed that the Gunmen had set up a webcam. "Oh, my God! Mulder!" she nearly hyperventilated. "Hi, partner," he whispered into the speaker, and she knew his eyes were on her. "God, Dana, you look so beautiful." "I..." she choked out, unable to find her voice for a moment. "Where's William?" he asked. "Right here, Fox," said Maggie, who, after having taken him around to meet or reacquaint him with members of the family, brought the baby over and set him on his mother's lap. "Merry Christmas, son," she said, smiling into the camera. "We love and miss you." "I love and miss you, too, Mom," Mulder replied, sounding a bit awkward, but full of sincerity. "Merry Christmas everyone!" he went on loudly, as if trying to talk over his mother-in-law's shoulder. "And thank you all for coming to Scully's party!" He could hear people shouting, "you're welcome" and "Merry Christmas" to him. Behind Dana and her mother, he caught glimpses of some familiar faces. It was wonderful to see them- even Bill- and he was grateful that they had all agreed to help him bring some Christmas cheer to his beloved and their son, but he did not have a lot of time to spare and he really wanted to speak privately with Scully. "Byers? Did you bring the gifts?" "Yes, we did," the bearded man replied, "and I see you obviously got our box." "Yeah, forwarded about twelve times. When did you send it?" "End of October," Langly told him, coming closer. "Hey," he whispered quietly into the speaker, "you want some privacy with the little woman and the offspring?" "Who are you calling little?" Dana asked the stringy haired blond, her eyes narrowing. "Aw, come on Scully," Mulder chuckled into the camera, "you have to admit that you are the smallest adult in the room... with the exception of Frohike, of course." "And Merry Christmas to you, punk ass," Frohike spoke up, coming closer to the camera as well, while Byers and Langly politely asked everyone to gather over near the dining room and kitchen. "And before you can ask, yes, I delivered your special present." "Good," Mulder said, smiling wickedly at Scully. She returned the grin. "But she wouldn't let me slip her the tongue, like you'd instructed," Frohike added slyly. Dana's eyes grew wide again, and she stared at Mulder. "Scully," Mulder promised her, "honestly, I did not ask him to... Melvin, get lost, you pervert!" "Yeah, right back at ya," Frohike said, then walked off to join the others at a safe distance, to afford the couple a little privacy. "Yeah, that was my Christmas present to Frohike," he said, chuckling. "He always wanted the chance to smooch with the irresistible Agent Scully." Mulder waited a moment for Scully to say something. When she still seemed too overwhelmed to say anything, he averted his attention to the cute, chubby fellow sitting upon her lap. "God, Scully, he's getting so big. Hi, William! Hi, little man, it's me, your dad." Hot tears cascaded down Dana's cheeks. Her heart warmed as much as it broke to hear Mulder address his son. She only wished it could have been in person. William responded favorably to Mulder's voice. His baby gaze focused on the monitor, watching his father make silly faces at him. He gurgled and laughed, his tiny hands reaching out to touch the computer screen. "Hey, he recognizes me!" Mulder exclaimed happily. He looked away from his camera for a moment to wipe away his tears, but Scully knew exactly what he was doing. "I wonder if he misses me. At least he's talking to me. Scully...?" Finally, the portion of her brain controlling speech jump-started into action. "Oh, Mulder, of course he misses you. And you know I do." "And I certainly miss both of you," he told her. "God, Scully, I'm going stir crazy here without you." "C-can you come home?" she asked, not even noticing how childlike and needy her voice sounded. Mulder did notice her tone and it made him smile, but he made no mention of it to her. "I wish I could, Scully, but not yet. It's still not safe for me." Scully closed her eyes for a moment, then realized that by doing so, she was missing out on looking at her lover, so she opened them again. "I- I can't believe that you did all of this for me, Mulder. I can't even begin to thank you. I'm not sure that I could ever do so adequately." William took this moment to tug on her blouse, revealing a bit of cleavage to the camera. "Well, it looks like my son sure knows what I like!" he said, enjoying the blush he could see befall Scully's cheeks. "Thank you, Will!" "Mulder," Scully mumbled in embarrassment, readjusting her blouse. "Remember we're not the only one's here." "Oh yeah, like they don't know that I love your breasts," he said, watching her blush grow deeper. "Mulder!" she cried, scandalized. "God, you're so beautiful," he told her again, his eyes misting over at the vision of loveliness staring at him on the computer screen. "So are you," she replied, reaching up a hand to caress the image on her own screen, longing desperately to be able to physically run her fingers across the five o'clock shadow on his cheeks, but still grateful to at least be able to see him. "You think I'm beautiful?" he asked, this time his cheeks flushing. "Of course I do, Mulder," she assured him. "You've got to be the most beautiful man on the planet." "Or off it, if you recall," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. Surprised that he could joke so casually about his abduction, Scully didn't comment about it, unable to make light of that harrowing experience. "Yes, you're the most beautiful man anywhere," she reiterated. "Um, Scully?" "Yes, Mulder?" "When you say beautiful, you do mean that in a... manly sort of way, right?" Scully laughed out loud, causing a few heads to involuntarily turn to look at her for a second or two. "Yes, Mulder, very manly." From behind Scully, Mulder saw Byers approach discreetly. "Mulder, only a few minutes left, okay?" "Right," Mulder sighed, and they both waited until the Gunman walked away before resuming conversation. "A few minutes?" Scully questioned sadly. "Yeah, unfortunately we can't talk on this too long. Can't afford to take a chance of being traced." "I... understand," she agreed, although she never wanted this connection to end. "So, I got the presents you sent, via the Gunmen," Mulder was telling her. "Thanks, Scully. I'm going to open them tomorrow. And I sent you and William some presents, too. The guys should have them. Hope I got the size right." "Well, you know my figure isn't what it used to be after having the baby," Scully reminded him. "I'm talking about William," he laughed. "Besides Scully, I know instinctively what size you wear. And yes, there's a little something I did get for you to wear tonight- after everyone has left and you've gone to bed, I mean. I'd... well, maybe it's stupid, but I'd like you to wear it for me... if you don't mind." "I don't mind, Mulder," she promised, touched to tears by his request, although curious as to what he had sent her. He could see the wheels of her mind turning. "Don't worry," he assured her. "It's sexy as hell, but it's tasteful. I would never send you anything less than that." "I know, darling, I know," she said, smiling lovingly at him. "I also sent some of my tee shirts," he whispered, grinning like a fox. "Unwashed." Blushing, but unable to conceal her pleased expression, she asked, "How did you know that I...?" "I just know," he told her. "Besides, I have a couple of your shirts, as well as a few... personal items here with me." "You have my underwear?" she blurted, just a little too loudly, and everyone over by the dining room tried to pretend they didn't hear it. Mulder laughed loudly. "Hell, yes! A couple of your bras, too. Not that I wouldn't give anything to have what's supposed to be in them here with me, too." "I feel the same, my love," she said, her face flushed in hot desire, mingled only with the sadness that he was not there to either stoke, or extinguish her flame. "So, you do miss when we would... I mean, I know we only did... it a few times, but do you ever miss...?" Mulder rambled incoherently. She understood anyway. Leaning closer to the microphone in the camera, Scully whispered confidentially, "Mulder, I miss making love with you every waking minute." His face broadened in a wide grin, and she could swear his chest was puffed out in manly pride. "God, I miss that, too, Scully. I think about it constantly. I dream about us all the time." "So do I," she admitted, trying not to feel embarrassed. After all, this was Mulder. "Hmm, maybe if we could coincide on our dreams, we could meet up sometime..." he suggested, winking at her. "I'd love that," she whispered, and he could see the need and desire she held for him in her smoky, blue eyes. His own eyes beginning to smolder, he nodded and his voice came out sounding seductive and thick as honey. "Me, too, Scully. You don't know how much I've needed that- needed you... needed us." This time it was Langly who crept over, looking apologetic. "Sorry to interrupt your... uh, Internet... sex chat, but you guys better wrap this up now." Then he hurried back to the group as if Scully and the man on the computer were covered in "love cooties". "Shit," Mulder muttered, then apologized. "Sorry, baby- eh, babies. I just... I just don't want to hang up." "Neither do I," Dana said, starting to cry again. "Oh, no, Scully, please don't cry," she heard Mulder plead. "I'm sorry. I just can't help it." Her sobs brought him to tears again as well. "I guess I can't either. It's okay. It's hard to say goodbye, but I'm so glad I got to talk to- and see- you and Will." "We are, too, Mulder. We're so grateful," she told him. "We love getting to talk to and see you, too. And I hope... I pray that this new year will bring you back to us." "Me, too, Scully. I think it will." "You do?" she asked, her glistening eyes lighting up with hope. "Yes, I honestly do," he promised. "The guys and I are doing a lot of research and finding out a lot of stuff. Besides, even if we can't solve all our problems, the fact is, I'm going to have to see you in person soon. I need to hold you in my arms... and kiss you... and... and... I need to be with you." "I need all of that with you, Mulder," Scully said, "but please be careful. Stay safe. That's what's important right now." "What's important is my family," he amended. His gaze focused on the cherubic little angel sitting upon Scully's lap. "Hey, Will. You be a good boy, okay? You take good care of your mom, and behave for her. Trust me, your mom is not someone you want to piss off." "Mulder!" she scolded. "See what I mean?" he chuckled. Then his tone grew more serious. "Goodbye, little William. I love you, son." As a Christmas present to his father, William took that moment to say, "Da da!" "I don't believe it! Scully, did he just say...?" he stuttered in amazement. "Yes, he did," she confirmed, equally amazed. "What can I say? He's a smart boy, just like his daddy." Mulder wiped away at the wetness on his cheeks. "Yeah, well, his mom is no slouch in the brains department either." Dana burst into a new fit of tears. "God, Mulder, please don't go. Please!" "Scully, I have to," he said, already noticing that Frohike was walking up behind the woman to tell them to cut the connection. "But I do have one more present for you." "What?" she sniffled, her shoulders trembling with sobs. Standing up and showing his middle torso to the camera, Mulder unbuttoned the fly of his jeans, and pausing long enough to think Forgive me, Gibson, he dropped his pants to reveal his mistletoe boxer shorts. "Oh, my God!" he heard Scully exclaim in surprise and renewed desire. "Do it, Scully," he whispered, his crotch still on camera. "As an extra Christmas present to me. Do it, please." Not realizing that Frohike was fast approaching, and only wanting to please her partner and give them each an erotic memory to savor, she leaned forward and kissed the screen right on his... mistletoe. Mulder groaned audibly when he saw his partner press her lips to the screen against his image over the webcam. "God, Scully! I love you!" "I love you, Mulder," she cried passionately. "Cut the connection," Frohike demanded from behind her. "Oh, for the love of God, cut it now!" "Love you!" they both said simultaneously and their fingers touched on the screen before the connection was broken and they were left with dark, empty space. Scully began to sob hard now, and she rested her head against Frohike's chest, while William sat on her lap, tugging on her blouse again. "Shh, it's all right, Sc- uh, Dana," Frohike whispered, awkwardly patting her shoulder, although she knew the sentiment was genuine. "I'm sorry we had to cut you off, but we have to keep safe." "I know," she murmured into his shirt, smudging the white beard on the Santa face with her mascara. "Besides, watching you kiss Mulder's crotch just about killed me," he blurted. "What!?" "Um..." and he quickly backed away from her, before running into the coffee table and falling onto the couch. Charlie Scully, who was sitting there and unaware of what had just transpired between Frohike and his sister, chuckled jovially at the little man and said, "Whoa there, fella. You had a little too much eggnog?" "Yeah, but there's no alcohol in it," Frohike admitted, causing everyone to laugh. From her place at the computer, even Scully smiled. Then she returned her attention to the darkened screen and touched it once more, warming at the memory of the face that had just been on it. She did not hear her mother approaching her from behind. When she felt a maternal arm go around her shoulders, Dana sighed softly and rested her head against her mother's chest, much more familiar and comfortable than Frohike's, especially after the humiliating comment he'd made. "Hey, Mom," she murmured. "How are you doing, honey?" "Good, Mom. Especially now that I know he's okay." Maggie Scully smiled, leaning down to kiss her daughter and retrieve her now fussy grandson from her lap. "I figured you'd feel better." "I can't believe all that he did for me. And all that everyone here did for me. You knew all along, didn't you? Even when we were talking on the phone and..." "Of course I did, dear." "But how could you keep up that secret?" Scully questioned, surprised that her mother had been able to hold it all in. "Well, I couldn't very well ruin Fox's surprise," the woman replied. She leaned down to press another kiss to her daughter's cheek. "I knew how much it meant to him; how much it would mean to you and Will. Dana, why don't you come back over? Join the party? Remember, Fox wanted you to be surrounded by your family and friends tonight." "Yeah. I will, very soon. I just... I just need a moment more... okay, Mom?" "Sure, sweetheart," Maggie said understandingly. "I love you. You take your time and then come join us for some good old-fashioned Christmas-time fun. Bill wants to open a few presents and Charlie wants to have an eggnog chugging contest." "Well, I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'll actually have to side with Bill on this one," Scully giggled. "I concur, but I do have to inform you that between the Gunmen, your nephews and that Mr. Doggett fellow, your vote is sorely outnumbered," Maggie said, taking William and heading over to where the group of partygoers gathered by the couch. "See you soon?" she called back over her shoulder. "Very soon," Dana promised, watching her mother and her son rejoin the festivities. Getting up from the computer chair, Scully ventured over to the same window she had been standing at when her unexpected guests had started arriving. She looked out at the falling snow, now covering cars and the streets they sat on and smiled. This time, it wasn't hard to imagine Mulder there with her at all, because she knew he was there. He was there in the party he had thrown. He was there in all the guests he had invited. He was there in the face of her beautiful son. And he was there, always, in her heart. "Good night, my love," she whispered quietly, staring at the brightly shining North Star. "Merry Christmas, Mulder." Then she turned and ventured into the warm, loving circle of family and friends. Somewhere in New Mexico, Mulder sat in a small, two- bedroom house, half-heartedly listening to the television, as Tim Allen became Santa behind him, while staring out into the night sky. He seemed to focus on the North Star, mostly because it shined the brightest, but also because he knew in his heart of hearts, Scully had been staring at that same star only moments before. He missed her now more than ever, longed for her to be physically beside him. But he realized that she was there with him in his heart, she and William. And he was grateful for the erotic dream he was sure he was going to have tonight, falling asleep thinking about her wearing his Christmas present to her, as well as from the little kiss she had given him before they had to hang up. Man, that was hot! he recalled, his emotions all a tremble. "Good night, my loves," he whispered quietly, reverently. "Merry Christmas, Scully. Merry Christmas, William." He turned and ventured back over to the couch, seating himself beside his drowsy companion. Gibson looked over at him and nodded. "Good talk with Agent Scully?" he asked, already knowing that it had been. "Very good, yes," Mulder confirmed. "You tell her you miss her?" "Yep." "You tell her that you love her?" "Sure did." "She say the same?" "Yeah," Mulder sighed dreamily. "Good." The two watched as Tim Allen learned about The Santa Clause. They sat in companionable silence for a long time, just watching the movie, munching on popcorn and sipping hot apple cider. Finally, Gibson said, "Incidentally, Mulder? That whole mistletoe underwear thing? Totally disgusting!" Mulder smiled in satisfaction. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" Gibson shook his head. "You're corrupting me, you know." "I'm always happy to do my part in warping a young man's mind," Mulder replied, his mood too good to be goaded. "You're a sick man, Mulder." "Thank you." "Merry Christmas, Mulder." The former FBI agent glanced down at his young friend and wrapped a fatherly arm around his shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Gibson." The End
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