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Title: I Snowflake You Summary: Their first Christmas on the road. Author's Notes:Just a little something I thought up for Christmas. Happy Holidays! I do not own the characters. I do not make any money from this. Enjoy! Dana Scully lay on her side of the bed staring at Fox Mulder. The curtains were drawn, and even if they weren't, it would still be dark outside. She raised her head to read the red numbers as they taunted her from the other side of the bed. 4:14 am beamed out into their room. She sighed and went back to staring at him. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his face twitched and smirked every once and a while, and his leg absently kicked from time to time. He was having, for all intents and purposes, a very restful sleep. She mashed her arm under the pillow and pulled it toward her more. She was not deluded into thinking this would help, but short of watching more ads for As Seen On TV products there was nothing else to do. She knew exactly why she couldn't sleep, and she knew that thinking about it now would make it worse, but how much worse could it get? It was her first Christmas away from her family. Her first Christmas without William. The first Christmas in her whole entire life she wanted to skip, pass over, forget. But somehow, like a bad joke, it was being drawn out painstakingly, minute by minute. She would experience more hours awake for this horrid Christmas than she had spent awake for all the wonderful ones. This was her lot. As soon as the first ornament had been hung in the department store in which she worked, she knew that she was being slowly tortured. The Christmas music, the happy people, every corner of the store dripping in merriment, was her cross to bear this year. She came home one night and announced to Mulder that she wanted no mention of the holiday. Not a decoration, not a tree, not a card, not a present. They would treat the day like any other day off and then go back to life as usual. He looked up from his bag of pretzels as the TV glowed blue on his shirtless chest and said "okay" and returned to focusing on his show. She was happy he had not asked any questions. Her thoughts drifted off to Christmases of her childhood. Standing at the door to her room with Missy waiting for the clock to strike seven and her mother to tell them they could all come out of their rooms. The race down the stairs to get to the best spot in front of the tree. The endless hours it seemed to take for her parents to make coffee, and put out a plate of goodies that only they ate. The flurry of activity when gifts were handed out. And finally the agony of being ripped away from said gifts way too early because they had to go to Aunt Martha's for lunch. Dana vividly pictured the smiling faces of her brothers and sisters as they were young and glowing. She remembered the happy contentment on her parents faces as she drifted off to sleep. The next time she awoke it was because the bed was moving. She opened her eyes to see Mulder madly looking under the covers for something. "What are you doing?" she groaned as she raised her head. "I've lost a sock and this is my last matching set. Too many motel beds have eaten my socks. I'm walking out of this one with a matching pair." "Mulder," she sighed, patting his back. "We're here for another five days so I can get all the...sale hours." "I know," he said with his torso buried under the sheet. "But if I don't look now, I'll forget about it." "Ah ha!" he said triumphantly, as he came out from under the covers with a gray sock in his hand. "Feel better?" she asked with a smirk. "Much better," he said as he put on the sock. "What time is it?" she groaned, remembering the date again, and hoping he wouldn't make mention of it. "10am," he said snuggling up to her. "Is it really?" she asked straining for a look. "It's 10:32 but..." "Mulder, you have to get to work" she said. "That's why I lied about the time," he said burying his head into her shoulder. "What time do you have to open?" "11am, but I doubt they are sticklers for..." "You are working at the only bar in town that's open on... today...I bet there's a line-up already." "You're probably right." He nuzzled closer. "Go get a shower." She peeled him off her, "I want to get some more sleep anyways," she lied. He knew it. They both let it slide. "Fine," he said vaulting himself from the bed. Dana lay back in their bed, moving over to Mulder's side, to feel the warmth of his body for as long as it would last. She heard the shower sputter on and closed her eyes, attempting to sleep again. Her thoughts drifted this time to a Christmas when she was a tween. Bill and Missy were older and trying to pretend that they didn't care about waking up early. Dana had been laying watching Missy pretend to sleep for almost 40 minutes when a pillow whacked her upside the head. She turned toward the door to see her brother Bill's pajama's scoot past their room in the hallway. 'so, he wasn't so mature after all?' was her one thought. Then, when their mother called that everyone could come out of their rooms Bill pretended to still sleep and Charlie had to jump on his bed to wake him. Dana thought that her brother, the adult, wasn't much different than her brother the moody teenager. He was always trying to pretend to be something he wasn't because he thought that's what people expected of him. "I won't be home until late." Mulder roused her from her thoughts as he pulled a turtleneck over his head. "I know," she said, trying not to sound too lonely. "Want me to bring you back something to warm you up?" he asked leaning over her to give her a soft kiss. "You warm me up." She smiled into his kiss. I'll always do that." He smiled. "I meant something more in the liquid form." "No, I'll probably be long asleep by the time you're back." She sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow Mulder." He threw on his coat, scarf and gloves and smiled at her from across the room. "Be careful," she said, knowing that she didn't need to. "I will." He waved as he exited their room. They had successfully avoided the topic of Christmas. Mulder had done as she asked, not a decoration, not a mention, not a present. He had done exactly as he was asked, and she wanted to cry. She wanted to run outside in the snow and hug him and say "Merry Christmas" and tell him his life, his safety, was the best present she could ask for this year. She wanted to tell him about William's first Christmas, about Christmas morning when she was a child, she wanted to tell him everything, as she spray painted fake snow on their motel window in the shape of icicles. But it was done, their Christmas together, the few moments they had together, was already done for this year. She only had herself to blame. How could he possibly know that with all her protestations, she still wanted to celebrate. That in the deepest recesses of her heart there was more to the story than her mad need to forget the day. Dana cried her eyes out. She cried for the loss of this day, because she had lost so many others, and not by choice. That this loss was her doing, and hers alone. She padded across the room to wash away the self-pitying tears and when she flicked on the light to the bathroom, she saw it. One lone paper snowflake, taped to the mirror. He knew. The end
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