table setting

Title: Happy Thanksgiving
Author: Ghostshipper
Written: 1997
Rating: G
Category: SR
Spoilers: None that I know of
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
Disclaimer: UGH! I hate to waste my time writing this, but Mulder and Scully belongs to creative genius Chris Carter, the Fox Network, and Ten-Thirteen Productions (I made this!). This is purely for entertainment. Sorry for stealing your characters!

Summary: Mulder prepares to spend another Thanksgiving alone, until...

I wanted to write a Thanksgiving special. I hope you all enjoy this! Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!!!!!!


Scully finished writing her case report and slams the pen down on her desk.

"Done!" she cried, getting up to put on her coat. "I'm not wasting another minute in this hellhole."

Mulder watched her with curious eyes. "Big plans for Thanksgiving tomorrow?"

She shrugged. "The usual. Mom is making me bake the pumpkin pie this year. She knows I can't cook!" She smiles. "So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Absolutely nothing." He leans back and puts his feet on his desk. "I'll have to finish this huge pile of paperwork..."

She nods. "Well, I gotta go now, Mulder. Happy Thanksgiving!" She rushed out the basement door.

Mulder sighed. He hated holidays. That's when he felt the most alone. His mother wanted him to come home, but he vowed that he would never spent another holiday in that dreary place. He sighed again and turned back to his work.


He didn't remember how he got home. All he knew was that he had collapsed on his couch and was awakened at 9 A.M. the next day by the ringing of the doorbell.

"What the--" He was barely awake and he was so groggy he could barely get up.

There was a rustle of keys. In popped Scully, with her arms full of groceries. "Hi, Mulder," she said cheerfully.

He was awake in a instant. "Scully! What are you doing here, with all that stuff?"

She smiled brightly. "We're going to make the biggest Thanksgiving feast you've ever seen!" She set the bags on the kitchen table and starts looking for the pots and pans.

"Uh?"

Scully looks at him sternly. "Mulder, did you think I'd let you spend Thanksgiving alone?"

"So this is out of pity." He made it sound like he was kidding, but couldn't help the hurt in his tone of voice. Mulder gave her the sad puppy dog face.

Her eyes softened. "Of course not. Nothing I do for you is out of pity. I just wanted to spend Thanksgiving with my best friend."

He smiled. "But what about your mother..."

"She insisted that I be with you. She even made yams for us!" Scully pulled a carefully wrapped dish out of one of her bags.

Maybe this Thanksgiving won't be so bad after all, Mulder thought.


"Okay, the turkey's in the oven and the cranberry sauce is done. What's next?" They had cooked feverishly for an hour. Actually it was mostly Scully. She was an amateur cook but Mulder didn't have a clue about culinary art.

"You're avoiding the pumpkin pie," he pointed out.

"Oh, I can't make those!" she whined.

Suddenly, Mulder noticed a piece of paper sticking out of the plastic bag that had Mrs. Scully's yams in it. He picked it up and smiled in spite of himself. It said:

Dear Fox,
You know how my Dana always worries about baking the pumpkin pie because she says hers can never compare to mine. But to tell you the truth, the recipes I use weren't even mine! Mulder, I don't know if you cook yourself but if you want the pie you'll have to make it yourself. (Buy an already made crust, dear, that's the hardest part.)

Love,
Margaret

"Mulder?" Scully called for him and he slipped the note into his pocket.

"Scully, why don't you let me take care of the pumpkin pie?" he asked.

She breathed a sigh in relief. "Oh, thanks, Mulder!"


Five hours later, the food was all cooked and ready. They sat down at his kitchen table it could barely support all the food that was on top of it: pumpkin pie, turkey, baked potatoes, yams, cranberry sauce... They ate hungrily. Scully complimented Mulder on his pumpkin pie and had extra helpings.

Mulder couldn't remember having a happier holiday.

"So what are you thankful for?" Scully was looking at him curiously.

"You," he said without thinking. "Scully, I've never thanked you properly for everything you've done, all these years even if you didn't come by today. Putting up with my moodness and you know, all of my crap. I don't deserve a friend like you."

Her smile was priceless. It lit up the whole room and shined hope into his heart. Hope that they could be more.

"I was going to say the same thing. Mulder, before I met you there was this whole world I'd never known. Sure, it's strange and often enough dangerous, but I never regretted being partnered up with you, not for a second."

They spend the rest of the night watching Thanksgiving specials. Finally, they fell to sleep exhausted on the couch.


Sunlight seeped through the curtains into Mulder's apartment. He was never a morning person, but today he woke up with a big smile on his face. He glanced at Scully, who was asleep beside him. The light made her hair shine like the sun. Her ivory skin was soft and delicate. A strand of red hair fell across her face. He took his hand and brushed it back up, gently touching her forehead. "I love you," he said. He was about to go back to sleep when he heard her voice.

"I love you too."

~The End~

~The End~

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