Under the Mistletoe
More X-Files fic.
Under the Mistletoe
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Chris Carter and 1013 own these characters; I don’t. Duh.
Summary: Set in an AU S7. Mulder and Scully have that first kiss just a little earlier.
A/N: Written for my 2008 holiday request ficathon for adriana_is.
Scully didn’t notice the mistletoe until nearly lunch time. She and Mulder had been working on getting their expense reports up to date before they left for the holidays-or, rather, until she left. Mulder hadn’t mentioned what his Christmas plans were, and she could only hope that they didn’t have anything to do with ghosts.
Seeing it hanging in the doorway, however, Scully realized that Mulder had been very quiet all morning, probably waiting for her to notice it and say something.
“Mulder?”
“Hm?” He adjusted his glasses as he looked up at her.
“Is there something you wanted to tell me?”
“About what?”
“You know about what.”
He frowned, clearly confused. “No, I don’t know. What did I do?”
Scully pointed to the mistletoe, waiting for him to confess, or at least smirk. Instead, his face remained completely innocent-although that didn’t mean much, since this was Mulder.
“I wonder how that got there,” he mused aloud.
“Mulder!”
“What?”
Realizing that she wasn’t going to get anywhere, Scully rose. “I think I’m going to grab lunch. Do you want anything?”
“Cheeseburger and fries?”
“What was your cholesterol level at your last physical?” she countered.
He grinned, and Scully had to admit-if only to herself-that her heart beat just a little bit faster at the sight. “We all die eventually, Scully. Why not go out with a bang?”
She sighed, knowing that this was an old argument that she was never going to win. “I’ll be back.”
Scully skirted the mistletoe as best she could and headed out. When she returned an hour later, Mulder and the mistletoe were nowhere to be seen. She raised her eyebrows, then shrugged, plopping the greasy sack with Mulder’s lunch on his desk and returning to her seat. She really needed to finish up her paperwork if she was going to be able to enjoy her holiday.
Mulder breezed through the door a minute later, looking absurdly cheerful for a man who had just spend the morning filling out reports, and who would be doing the same thing all afternoon.
“What has gotten into you today?” Scully demanded her tone a little sharper than she meant it to be. Although she enjoyed Christmas, Bill and Tara and their perfect family were in town, and Scully always felt like a failure in comparison-especially when her aching desire for a child was so acute.
He just grinned at her. Clearly, her bad mood was not going to dampen Mulder’s enthusiasm. “Look up, Scully,” he suggested after a moment.
With a flutter of what might have been either anticipation or dread in her belly, she did so. The mistletoe hung there, right above her head. “Mulder-”
“What? It’s traditional, right?” His lifted eyebrow reminded her that she was usually the one who liked traditions; he was the one who bucked them.
Scully wasn’t sure that this was a good idea, but it was clear that Mulder had planned this out, and he wasn’t going to let it go. Taking the offense was the only way to play the game and keep her dignity. “What are you waiting for?” she challenged him.
Mulder leaned down, one hand bracing himself on his desk, the other lightly gripping her shoulder. His hazel eyes glittered with amusement, and then his lips touched hers.
It wasn’t earth-shattering, as kisses went; it felt like coming home. When he pulled back, Scully found that all her ill-humor had dissipated. Mulder didn’t say anything; he just looked at her, waiting for her reaction.
“Mulder?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m still sitting under the mistletoe.”
Under the Mistletoe
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Chris Carter and 1013 own these characters; I don’t. Duh.
Summary: Set in an AU S7. Mulder and Scully have that first kiss just a little earlier.
A/N: Written for my 2008 holiday request ficathon for adriana_is.
Scully didn’t notice the mistletoe until nearly lunch time. She and Mulder had been working on getting their expense reports up to date before they left for the holidays-or, rather, until she left. Mulder hadn’t mentioned what his Christmas plans were, and she could only hope that they didn’t have anything to do with ghosts.
Seeing it hanging in the doorway, however, Scully realized that Mulder had been very quiet all morning, probably waiting for her to notice it and say something.
“Mulder?”
“Hm?” He adjusted his glasses as he looked up at her.
“Is there something you wanted to tell me?”
“About what?”
“You know about what.”
He frowned, clearly confused. “No, I don’t know. What did I do?”
Scully pointed to the mistletoe, waiting for him to confess, or at least smirk. Instead, his face remained completely innocent-although that didn’t mean much, since this was Mulder.
“I wonder how that got there,” he mused aloud.
“Mulder!”
“What?”
Realizing that she wasn’t going to get anywhere, Scully rose. “I think I’m going to grab lunch. Do you want anything?”
“Cheeseburger and fries?”
“What was your cholesterol level at your last physical?” she countered.
He grinned, and Scully had to admit-if only to herself-that her heart beat just a little bit faster at the sight. “We all die eventually, Scully. Why not go out with a bang?”
She sighed, knowing that this was an old argument that she was never going to win. “I’ll be back.”
Scully skirted the mistletoe as best she could and headed out. When she returned an hour later, Mulder and the mistletoe were nowhere to be seen. She raised her eyebrows, then shrugged, plopping the greasy sack with Mulder’s lunch on his desk and returning to her seat. She really needed to finish up her paperwork if she was going to be able to enjoy her holiday.
Mulder breezed through the door a minute later, looking absurdly cheerful for a man who had just spend the morning filling out reports, and who would be doing the same thing all afternoon.
“What has gotten into you today?” Scully demanded her tone a little sharper than she meant it to be. Although she enjoyed Christmas, Bill and Tara and their perfect family were in town, and Scully always felt like a failure in comparison-especially when her aching desire for a child was so acute.
He just grinned at her. Clearly, her bad mood was not going to dampen Mulder’s enthusiasm. “Look up, Scully,” he suggested after a moment.
With a flutter of what might have been either anticipation or dread in her belly, she did so. The mistletoe hung there, right above her head. “Mulder-”
“What? It’s traditional, right?” His lifted eyebrow reminded her that she was usually the one who liked traditions; he was the one who bucked them.
Scully wasn’t sure that this was a good idea, but it was clear that Mulder had planned this out, and he wasn’t going to let it go. Taking the offense was the only way to play the game and keep her dignity. “What are you waiting for?” she challenged him.
Mulder leaned down, one hand bracing himself on his desk, the other lightly gripping her shoulder. His hazel eyes glittered with amusement, and then his lips touched hers.
It wasn’t earth-shattering, as kisses went; it felt like coming home. When he pulled back, Scully found that all her ill-humor had dissipated. Mulder didn’t say anything; he just looked at her, waiting for her reaction.
“Mulder?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m still sitting under the mistletoe.”