Au gui l'An neuf
TITLE: Au gui l'An neuf
AUTHOR: memories_child
SPOILERS: None
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 250
CHALLENGE: Holidays
DISCLAIMER: Let’s just pretend they’re CC's Christmas present to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for the xf_drabble challenge.
Scully wraps her arms around herself and stamps her feet to try and ward off the chill that's settled between her toes. The cemetery is cold and dark, the dim light given off by their torches failing to illuminate much beyond the nearest headstone, and snow whirls down before her, resting cold and wet on her red hair.
Mulder, of course, is oblivious to this; the weather, the darkness, her rapidly failing mood. He tramps among the graves, swinging his torch this way and that, muttering the names of the family they have come to find ("The family, Scully, that is said to haunt the barren country lane every Christmas Eve," he had told her as they left the office).
She watches the light from his torch swing upwards and stamps her feet louder, willing him to take the hint.
"Look, Scully, mistletoe."
"Mulder, it's poisonous," she sighs as she walks towards him. "Mistletoe is the common name for a group of hemi-parasitic plants of the order Santalales that grow attached to and within the branches of a tree or shrub. If ingested it can cause acute gastrointestinal problems, including stomach pain and diarrhoea, not to mention hallucinations, convulsions, increased blood pressure, heart attacks, cardiovascular collapse, and even death..."
But she kisses him underneath it anyway.
AUTHOR: memories_child
SPOILERS: None
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 250
CHALLENGE: Holidays
DISCLAIMER: Let’s just pretend they’re CC's Christmas present to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for the xf_drabble challenge.
Scully wraps her arms around herself and stamps her feet to try and ward off the chill that's settled between her toes. The cemetery is cold and dark, the dim light given off by their torches failing to illuminate much beyond the nearest headstone, and snow whirls down before her, resting cold and wet on her red hair.
Mulder, of course, is oblivious to this; the weather, the darkness, her rapidly failing mood. He tramps among the graves, swinging his torch this way and that, muttering the names of the family they have come to find ("The family, Scully, that is said to haunt the barren country lane every Christmas Eve," he had told her as they left the office).
She watches the light from his torch swing upwards and stamps her feet louder, willing him to take the hint.
"Look, Scully, mistletoe."
"Mulder, it's poisonous," she sighs as she walks towards him. "Mistletoe is the common name for a group of hemi-parasitic plants of the order Santalales that grow attached to and within the branches of a tree or shrub. If ingested it can cause acute gastrointestinal problems, including stomach pain and diarrhoea, not to mention hallucinations, convulsions, increased blood pressure, heart attacks, cardiovascular collapse, and even death..."
But she kisses him underneath it anyway.