Title: White Christmas
Author: Susan
E-mail: susanf34@comcast.net
Classification: Christmas vignette
Archive: No archive without permission.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to each other, not me.

Author's notes at the end.

Summary: Outside it's snowing. Inside people are watching.

Outside the snow dropped from the sky, its white flakes quickly covering the ground.

Inside was a little boy, watching them.

"I like the snow," he stated, jumping up on the couch in his brand new Christmas slippers and looking out into the back yard.

"Oh, and why is that?" asked his grandmother, walking over to the rocking chair, then sitting down in it.

"It's white," he said simply, suddenly hopping off the cushion and plopping onto her lap.

"White's a nice color, I guess," she said, dropping a soft kiss on his forehead. "But that's not the only reason you like the snow, is it?"

His arms wiggled, his legs swung back and forth as she held him, and it was all she could do to keep him from sliding off her legs and onto the floor.

Then again, he was just like his dad that way...always moving, always needing to be doing something new.

"No, I like it because of mommy," he replied, reaching up to touch her angel necklace, then pinching the beads between his stubby little fingers.

"Oh, is that so now? And why is that, peanut?" she asked, sweeping her hand across the brown curls on top of his head.

He giggled at the use of her nickname for him, then said, "'Cause mommy says there was snow the day I came out of her tummy."

He threw his arms around her then, hugging her tightly around the neck.

"Hey, take it easy there, buddy," said his granddad, coming into the room from the hallway. "Your grandma's not a toy."

Immediately letting go of her neck, he flew off her lap and ran into his grandfather's waiting arms. "Grandpa, you're silly," he said, squeezing the older man's nose and making a honking noise the way he always did when he greeted him.

"And your grandma wouldn't have me any other way," said Mulder, smiling over at her, then suddenly lifting his grandson up into the air and blowing a rather loud raspberry right in the middle of his belly.

Kevin squealed with delight, then tried to squirm out of Mulder's arms, but was no match for his stronger grandfather.

"Everything okay in here?" asked William, walking into the room, a dish towel in his hand. "'Cause if he's too much for you, just say the word, and I'll take him off your hands."

"We're fine, William. Go back and help Sarah finish the dishes," said Scully, motioning with her hand for him to go back into the kitchen.

"Well, okay, if you're sure," he said hesitantly, wadding the dish cloth into a ball and pressing it against his thigh. "It's just that I know how wild Kevin can get sometimes. He can be pretty hard to handle."

"Not any harder than handling your father," teased Scully, looking over at her husband and raising her eyebrow at him the same way she'd been doing for nearly thirty-five years.

"Hey..." objected Mulder with mock disgust as he gently set his grandson back down on the floor. "Go on, Will, your mom and I can take care of things out here," he added, smiling at the beautiful woman sitting over in the rocking chair. "Go spend some time with your wife."

Shaking his head, William chuckled and said, "Geez Dad, it's not like we're on a date or something. We're just doing the dishes together."

Scully stood up from the chair then, walked over to her son, and put her hand on his arm. "Cherish the simple things, William, and don't take *anything* for granted," she said quietly as the three of them watched Kevin busily load his dump truck with blocks and zoom it out of the room.

Looking over at his dad, he bent down and kissed his mother's cheek. "Okay mom, I won't," he said, tossing the wadded-up dish cloth up into the air as he headed back into the kitchen.

"I thought he'd never leave," said Mulder, stealing a quick kiss from his wife, then leading her over to the window.

Resting her head against his shoulder, she slipped her hand into his and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Mulder."

"Merry Christmas, Scully," he whispered back.

And together they watched the snow fall.


I wanted to tell a story that made me feel good about Christmas and family and the joy of simply spending time with the people you love, and after writing this, I have to say I'm feeling pretty good about things. <g> Hopefully, after reading it, you're feeling pretty good too.:) Have a wonderful Christmas, everyone.

Originally posted December 2002.

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