Twelve Scenes of Christmas Past and One of Christmas Future 2 of 2
10. Santa Claus is Coming to Town: Christmas 2002
She'd always worked hard. She'd spent hours on her feet in autopsy bays, spent hours poring over crime scene photos and reading reports. There really was no such thing as an eight hour day or a five day work week when they were on a case.
None of that compared to standing on her feet in front of a cash register for twelve hours, smiling mechanically, wishing each and every customer a Merry Christmas, counting back change, handing over receipts, explaining the return policy, rinse and repeat.
As God was her witness, she would never be impatient with a store clerk again.
"Miss Diana," Mr. Patel approached her during a momentary lull. How she hated her alias.
"Yes, Mr. Patel?" he always treated her courteously, unlike some of the other bosses she'd had. One had actually propositioned her in the stockroom, but a quick knee to the groin had taken care of that. Mulder never knew, and that was a good thing.
"Miss Diana, it's Christmas, you know," Mr. Patel said. "After tomorrow we will not need all the staff."
Her heart sank. It wasn't a great job, but it was a job, and they'd not been easy to come by without references or much of a job history. Her cover was that she'd been recently divorced and had been out of the workforce for a while. This satisfied some people, but it had only enflamed the manager at the last place; hence the knee to his groin and her immediate resignation. In another life she would have had him up for sexual harassment, but that was the kind of attention they needed to avoid right now.
"However, I'd like you to stay on," Mr. Patel continued. "You could be head cashier, maybe even third assistant manager before long. I could give you five cents an hour more."
What a proud moment, Scully thought. I always knew I could distinguish myself. "Thank you, Mr. Patel."
They were busy right up to the last minute, but finally the last customer was rung up. She closed out her till, keeping one eye on the parking lot. She said goodnight to her co-workers and Mr. Patel locked the door. A chorus of "Merry Christmases" back and forth, and everyone headed home.
"Miss Diana, do you have a ride?" Mr. Patel asked. It was ten minutes after midnight, officially Christmas Day.
"Yes, he's just a few minutes late," she said. He was never late.
Mr. Patel looked uncertain. "You should not be waiting alone out here."
"I'm fine." She gestured to the gas station across the street with its lights blazing. "I'll go wait over there. Goodnight, Mr. Patel." She started walking across the street. As soon as Mr. Patel drove off, she walked back to the front of the store.
Another five minutes passed, then five minutes more. She paced back and forth, watching the cars come and go at the gas station across the street, looking for one particular car.
Where was he? Maybe the car wouldn't start. Maybe he'd had to work longer.
He said he had some errands to run after work. She'd assumed he had some Christmas surprise up his sleeve and so hadn't questioned him.
He'd promised he wouldn't do anything dangerous. Not without her to back him up.
At twenty-five after twelve, she told herself she'd start walking toward their apartment if he didn't show in another five minutes. She'd probably meet him halfway.
She missed her cell phone. "Mulder, where are you?" she whispered into the cold night.
At half-past midnight, she saw the beat-up Nissan compact pull into the parking lot.
I won't be angry, she told herself, no matter what.
Mulder pulled up next to her, keeping the engine running. "Get in, if I turn it off, it'll die again."
"Where the hell have you been, Mulder?" she had to speak loudly over the rattling of the engine.
"Car trouble, among other things," he said, grinding the gears.
"What other things?" she said suspiciously.
"I had to go get some things I had in storage," he said, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Mulder, you promised --"
"I promised I wouldn't do anything dangerous. It wasn't dangerous, Scully. I went in, got my stuff, and came right back here. Then the damn car wouldn't start. I had to find someone with jumper cables, and you try doing that late on Christmas Eve."
She understood his anger and frustration; she was feeling the same thing, but she forced herself to stay calm. "Where did you go?"
"I just went to the next town over. We finally moved close enough to the place I put things for safekeeping, uh, before, uh, Mount Weather."
"What did you leave behind that was so important?" And how is that not dangerous, Mulder? She wanted to yell.
"Everything," he said. "Access to my accounts, new IDs, contacts, you name it. I didn't want to have anything on me that might be used against me or anyone else when I went to Mount Weather."
"Why didn't you tell me that's where you were going?"
"Because I knew you'd try and talk me out of it."
"You're damned right I would have." The anger was beginning to win. "How could you take such a risk? For all we know, you're on the Ten Most Wanted list."
"You saw the news stories, same as I did. I'm presumed dead in a fire fight in New Mexico. They were eyewitness accounts, Scully."
"That story could have been planted to give us a false sense of security, Mulder. It's happened before."
"Have a little faith. Maybe it was a little risky, but I thought it was our turn to catch a break."
"I can't even begin to express how disturbing I find it that you'd consider risking your life based on the theory that it's your turn to have a lucky break."
"I didn't," he insisted. "Look, someone once told me that every life, every day, is in danger -- it's just life. And the only way to change the odds in our favor is to take a risk now and then."
"I should have gone with you," she said stubbornly.
"It was safer for me to go alone."
They rode in silence for a while except for the sound of the car chug-chugging. Mulder had to rev the engine at every stop so it wouldn't die.
He broke their silence first. "You know what this means, Scully? No more working at the Ninety-Nine Cent Store or the Stop-n-Save. Maybe we could find a place where we could stay for more than a couple of weeks. And, we could work on getting you cleared."
"Just me, Mulder? Not you?"
"I think that might be a little harder. You didn't breach security at a restricted military facility. You weren't convicted of murder." His expression was bleak as he said the words. "And, as far as anyone knows, you had nothing to do with my escape. Once you're in the clear, we can work on me."
He pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building. He pulled into a parking spot and didn't turn off the engine so much as he just let the car die. The sudden silence was deafening.
He gave her a lopsided grin. "I hope you like your present, Scully. It's not much, but it's the thought that counts, right?"
"Mulder, I -- I don't know what to say." The urge to yell at him and shake him faded. The anger was there, but tempered with the realization that his most bone-headed moves were often motivated by his concern for someone else. Lately, they'd mostly been about her.
He shrugged. "You'd have done the same for me. Hell, you have done the same for me. You stormed the gates of Ellens Air Base. You sprung me from prison." He paused, and then added, "You're here with me."
"I don't want to leave you," she said quietly. "I won't go back without you."
Mulder really smiled at that. "And I don't want you to go. I just want you to have a choice."
"Mulder..." she couldn't help the tears. "I do have a choice. I choose to be here, with you."
"Don't cry, Scully. Come on, let's go inside. I splurged: there's pizza, and ice cream for dessert."
They entered their tiny studio apartment and Mulder turned on the one lamp. For once he'd made up the sofa bed. A tiny plastic tree stood on the battered kitchen table.
"So this is the Christmas surprise you were working on." She smiled a watery smile.
"What, the pizza and the ice cream?"
"You know what I mean," she said. "You took a huge risk. Thank you." She kissed him and hugged him tightly. "But I didn't get anything for you, Mulder."
"Yes, you did."
~*~
11. Baby, It's Cold Outside: Christmas 2004
She'd worked so many double shifts lately she'd almost forgotten what day it was. Working in the children's ward of a Catholic hospital, however, she'd have to be especially oblivious to not know it was getting close to Christmas.
It had been threatening to snow all day. It had just started as she left the hospital, but it must have gotten a head start in the higher elevations. In town it had been a mix of freezing rain and snow; here it was just snow falling in large flakes that began to accumulate on her windshield.
All she wanted for Christmas was a long, hot bath. And a foot massage. That should thrill Mulder although she was sure he had something else planned. He'd sent a message from his "stealth email" account, carefully coded, to confirm what time she'd be getting home. For someone who'd always claimed to be technologically impaired, he'd learned a lot of tricks from the Gunmen.
At long last she pulled into the driveway. She had a glorious thirty-six hours before she had to be back at work.
The house looked completely dark. They didn't leave the porch light on, but she could usually see a little light seeping through the front window. Scully tensed up, and instinctively reached for a gun that was no longer there. She opened the front door cautiously.
"Mulder? Are you there?"
"What's up, Doc?" Mulder's voice floated in from the kitchen. "Don't move."
Mulder's voice sounded calm. She expelled a small breath of relief. "Mulder, are you okay? Why is the house so dark?"
"I'm fine, everything's fine. Hang on a second." His voice was closer; she could see his outline faintly, crouching in the doorway leading to the kitchen. "Ta-da!" he said triumphantly, and suddenly the living room was festooned with strings and strings of colored lights. Mulder stood up, grinning.
Scully stepped forward, looking all around her. Mulder had been busy in the two days since she'd been home. There was a small tree in one corner. Tinsel rope had been strung along with the lights, reflecting the colors and casting a cheerful glow over the dingy room.
"Oh --" she started to say, when the lights flickered and went out.
"Crap." She heard rummaging around, and then the beam of a heavy-duty flashlight illuminated a spot in front of her.
"What happened?" she asked.
"The extra lights must have tripped a breaker." Mulder followed his beam of light and handed her another flashlight.
He led the way down to the cellar, making sure to wedge the door open before they descended the rickety stairs.
Scully held the flashlight while Mulder flipped breakers back and forth.
"Do you know which one it is?" Scully asked.
"I'm more of a trial-and-error guy," Mulder said.
"Wait a minute and I'll go upstairs and yell when the lights come back on." When she got to the living room she yelled, "Okay, Mulder, try another one."
Nothing happened. She waited a little longer.
"Mulder?"
Footsteps stomped up the stairs. "What?"
"Nothing's happening." She trained her flashlight around the room. "No lights."
"I don't think it's a blown circuit, Scully. Maybe there's a more widespread power outage."
Scully called NOVEC's outage center. Eventually after cycling through the many prompts, she discovered that the outage in their area wasn't expected to be fixed until the following day.
Mulder groaned when she told him. "You know, it's things like this that make living 'off the grid' more and more attractive, Scully."
"Do you have an emergency generator on your Christmas list?" Scully asked.
"I do now." Mulder shut the cellar door. "You know, I liked this house when we first saw it. It lured us in, and since then it's just been one thing after another."
"It was empty for a long time before we moved in," she reminded him. "It wasn't exactly move-in ready. Besides, it's not the house's fault."
"Yeah, I guess." Mulder's good mood had fizzled.
"At least we have a gas stove." She shivered, "and a fireplace."
"Good thing I chopped all that wood."
"Who'd have thought you'd be so handy with an axe, Mulder?"
"Yeah, lumberjack is my next career."
"You've got the flannel shirt. All you need is a beard, and you'll look the part."
"Don't tempt me," he said. He put his arms around her and rubbed his freshly-shaven cheek against hers. "Merry Christmas, Scully, such as it is."
"Mmm. Is this the rest of my Christmas present?" she whispered in his ear.
"I had big plans, Scully. Now it looks like we'll be lucky just to keep warm."
A sudden memory made her think of a way to salvage the situation. "Do we still have those sleeping bags?" she asked.
"Yeah, they're in the closet in the spare bedroom. Why?"
"Someone once told me," she said, drawing a line down his chest, "that the best way to keep warm was to get into a sleeping bag, naked, with someone else who was also naked." She kissed him. "I think now is our chance to test that theory."
For a moment he gaped at her like a fish. Then he recovered himself and said, "Don't move, I'll be right back."
She heard him pounding up the stairs, and smiled.
~*~
12. We Wish You a Merry Christmas: Christmas 2008
"Dear Ones:
"It's been another outstanding year for Team Stephens. Laura started her second semester at Smith, and grows livelier and lovelier with each passing year..."
The downside of coming out of hiding is the dreaded Christmas Letter. Scully tossed the latest one on the pile.
Her mother must have been working overtime sending out their address to all and sundry. If anyone was looking for them, with ill-intent or otherwise, they needed to look no further than Margaret Scully's address book. Telephone, telegraph, or tell Mom, Scully thought sourly.
The sound of the back door whooshing open and then being kicked shut roused her from her uncharitable thoughts.
"Honey, I'm home!" Mulder called. He walked into the kitchen from the mud room, surrounded by an aura of cold air. He pulled his knit cap off, his hair crackling with static electricity. "I'm thinking I need to grow my beard again," he remarked. "It's damned cold out there."
"Fine, I'll stop shaving my legs, too," Scully retorted.
"Ooh, sexy," Mulder smirked, unfazed. "Dare you." He gestured to the letter. "What's this?"
"It's a Christmas letter."
Mulder picked it up and scanned it. "Do you know these people?"
"Friends of the family," Scully said. "Mom has been giving out our address like candy canes."
"You're not worried about that, are you? You said yourself that if anyone was really trying to find us, they probably could have."
"No, it's not that," she sighed. "It's just -- well, it's symbolic of a different kind of life."
Mulder was silent for a long time, and she feared he was taking her comment completely wrong.
"I'm not saying it's a life I want," she added. "I made different choices. My mom still doesn't see it."
"Yeah, I get that. I don't know how she can help it, though. How much have you really told her over the years? About our work, what we've seen."
"I can't imagine telling her about some of our cases. Anything I told her was suitably edited. She'd never have believed some of them anyway."
"That's exactly my point. So, now that we've miraculously resurfaced, she's not going to look too far under said surface. You're a doctor, you're married to your former partner, and everything is 'back to normal'."
"Except it isn't," she said. "It's a given that our normal isn't her normal, and I wouldn't have it any other way. However, we can't ignore that continuance of anyone's 'normal' in the future -- not just for us, for everyone -- is still uncertain."
"You can't blame them for ignoring something they know nothing about. We seem to have switched sides again, Scully. You're making my usual argument."
"I don't see you settling for the 'status quo' any more than I am, Mulder."
"Of course not. Maybe we should send a little letter of our own. Take a letter, Ms. Scully."
"Someone has been watching too much 'Mad Men.'"
"You can dictate and I'll write, if you like."
"No, I want to hear this."
"Okay then." Mulder cleared his throat theatrically and began to dictate:
"'Dear to Whom It May Concern:
"'The Mulder-Scully Collective has been busy since Dana sprang Fox out of jail seven years ago. Besides being the center of a global conspiracy, Dana took time to update her medical license and is now considered to be one of the finest pediatric neurosurgeons in the country'."
"Don't you think that's exaggerating just a little?"
"Which part, the global conspiracy?"
Scully rolled her eyes.
"To continue: 'After many years of playing house husband, Fox has now found himself in demand as a profiler. He consults part-time for the FBI while organizing the resistance to the coming alien apocalypse.'"
"Well, that should get their attention," she said dryly.
"I'm thinking we should include an application form if they want to be part of the Resistance," he said. "We might get some new recruits."
"Be serious, Mulder."
"I am," he said with a straight face, "partly serious, anyway. Even though we've got the old gang back together, more or less, we could use more help."
"I don't think we'll get them from a Christmas letter. Most people probably barely read them, and the ones that do won't take it seriously."
"You never know until you try."
"I never thought of you as an optimist," she said.
"It's the new me," he said. "Freedom is a heady brew. Hope and change is in the air. Trust everyone."
"Keep it up, Mulder, and I'll begin to think you're a shape-shifter."
"Does that mean you don't want to send out the letter?" He pulled a pout. She couldn't help but smile.
"I think you're thinking too small," she said, suddenly struck with an idea. "Write up an application and post it on those chat groups you're a member of. Ask them to help spread the word. You've heard of the term, 'viral marketing'?"
"Yeah..." he said slowly, "it's just not the kind of virus I'm used to hearing about from you. I like it, though. I think it's the germ of a great idea."
Scully rolled her eyes again. "I can't believe you just said that."
"I got a million of them," he grinned. "Do you think it's too soon for me to have my own website?"
~*~
13. Happy Xmas/War Is Over: Christmas 2022
The room was lit only by the desultory flames of a low-banked fire. There were no strings of lights, no tree, no holiday music, either cheerful or melancholy.
It was perfect, or at least it would be shortly. She heard the back door open and boots stomping on the mat.
A moment later Mulder entered with an armload of wood. "I'm getting too old for this, Scully."
"You say that about doing anything you don't like to do," she observed. "You know all you have to do is say the word, and you'd have people lining up to chop wood for us."
"They did," he grinned. "All I had to do is go out back and haul it in." He dumped the wood on the hearth and flopped onto the sofa next to her.
"You big faker," she said affectionately, ruffling his hair.
He nuzzled his cold nose into her neck. "How much time do we have?"
"The chopper's not scheduled to pick us up until tomorrow afternoon," she said. "I think they want a couple of photo ops of us here. They wanted William and Melissa, too, but I said I didn't think it was a good idea."
"William is old enough to make up his own mind about it. I agree about Melissa, though. She should stay put with the family at the Vineyard. I'm sure your mom is spoiling the heck out of her."
"Don't remind me," Scully said, rolling her eyes. "I shudder to think what Mom's promising her for Christmas."
"Time enough to worry about that later," Mulder said. "Don't we have better things to think about right now? How long has it been since we've had some time together, just the two of us?"
"It's been a while."
"It's been too long a while. It's been so long that I've been having almost fond memories of our years of enforced solitude."
"That's good, since we sent the car away and we're going to have almost 24 whole hours of enforced solitude."
"Really? No emergency calls? No last-minute change of plans? No requests for interviews, autographs, a pound of flesh?"
"Everything we could plan for, we did," she said. What she had hoped would be a simple return to their old house had practically turned into a state visit. "We've been promised no interruptions, except for emergencies."
"I think word got out about our little visit. There were several people hanging around the front gates."
"I've been told on any given day that a lot of people come here. They leave notes. They take photos. Some have tried to break into the house, which is why there's a full-time security detail here now. With the anniversary, there have been more visitors than usual. Some are camping out in anticipation of the dedication."
"They're going to get awfully cold out here between now and then. The ceremony isn't until after Christmas, right? And it's going to be broadcast?"
"Yes, but there will always be people who want to be eyewitnesses so that they can say, 'I was there'."
"It's just a house, Scully. A run-down little house with bad plumbing, although it does have a kick-ass security system."
"It's 'just a house' the way the Liberty Bell is just a bell with a crack in it. It's a symbol now. It's where the Resistance was born."
"Not really."
"Well, close enough. And when the legend becomes fact, print the legend."
"Catchy. Did you make that up?"
"No, I heard it in a movie a long time ago."
He got up to poke the fire and throw another log on the embers, causing a flurry of sparks to fly upward, fading out as they rose. "All things considered, I think things turned out pretty well, don't you think?"
"Better than you expected, or better than you hoped?"
"Let's see: we're both still here, a little battered, but in one piece."
"Mm." Scully nodded.
"And the world didn't end."
"No, it didn't."
He leaned in for a kiss. "We saved the world, Scully."
"Yes, we did."
They sat in companionable silence, watching the fire.
When the clock struck midnight, Mulder turned to her. "Happy Alien Apocalypse Ending Day, Scully." He kissed her soundly.
"It's Alien Menace Liberation Day, Mulder," she corrected him when she could speak again.
"For awkwardness, there's not much to choose between them. But at least it's not 'Liberation from the Alien Menace on Earth'. Who'd want to celebrate a holiday whose acronym is LAME?"
"I like that; there's a certain ring to it." Scully said. "Let's call President Skinner right away. Maybe he can issue an executive order to change it."
"Nah," he said. "I have much better things to do." He gathered her up in his arms. "Just between you and me, I call it 'Mulder was Right Day.'"
"That's not at all immodest, is it?"
"Come here and show your appreciation of the conquering hero, and I'll show you mine."
"I only put up with this because you're the father of my children."
"Not because of my personal charm? My mordant wit? My alien-destroying talents?"
"If I recall, there was a little matter of an anti-viral that helped out with that, too."
"I'm not dismissing your considerable talents, Dr. Scully. Everyone knows you're the true hero of the day. And by 'everyone,' I mean me, too."
"That's more like it," she said, relaxing back into his arms. "Not that you didn't do your part, just as important."
"'Resistance Leader' does have a sexy ring to it, doesn't it?"
"It certainly works for me," she agreed. "Though 'Special Advisor to the President' has a nice ring to it, too."
"What a long, strange trip it's been, Special Agent Doctor Surgeon General Scully," Mulder took her face in his hands, his eyes serious. "Any regrets?"
She met his gaze and took her time replying, watching him watching her, savoring the moment.
"There are a few things I'd like to forget," she replied. "But I still wouldn't change a day. Not if it led to this moment here with you."
"Me too Scully," Mulder said. "Me, too."
The unexpected serious turn took them both by surprise.
Mulder recovered his equanimity first. "Where's the champagne? We should be toasting."
"We're not champagne people, are we Mulder? I have it on good authority that there's beer in the fridge. And pizza. And ice cream for dessert."
"That's more like it. Don't tell me you have a copy of 'Caddyshack' too?"
"Not on your life. I'm sure we can think of better things to do." She got up and sashayed into the kitchen, confident that Mulder would follow.
~ end ~
Author's Notes: As the episode reference for each vignette, I chose the episode that aired the closest to Christmas. For Season One, however, I couldn't ignore "Beyond the Sea," although "Fire" does get a reference because of when it aired and because it fit into Scully's musings about her partner at that time.
Here's the list:
1: Fire/Beyond the Sea
2: Excelsis Dei
3: Revelations
4: Paper Hearts
5: Emily/Christmas Carol
6: The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas
7: Millennium (with a dash of "Per Manum")
8: Via Negativa (also a bit of "Within/Without")
9: No specific reference (maybe foreshadowing "TrustNo1" a little bit)
10: The Truth from S9
11: Pre "I Want to Believe"
12: Post "I Want to Believe"
13: Reference to a hoped-for 3rd movie? We'll see...
I am so indebted to the "Inside the X" website for its transcripts.
http://www.insidethex.co.uk/
Feedback, good or instructive: msnsc21@yahoo.com
Thanks for reading!