if the fates allow
on the longest night of the year, some cozy holiday fic
(p.s. ONE MORE DAY OF SCHOOL, I am for sure more excited than the students)
through the years we all will be together
if the fates allow
until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow
December 23rd, 1993
“Got any big plans for Christmas?” he asks as Scully starts to pack up. It’s just about closing time. Mulder doesn’t like being between cases - there’s nothing good about going home at five o’clock.
Scully continues loading files into her briefcase. She can’t seriously be planning to tackle all of that shit over the holiday - she’s only taken off Friday and Monday.
Of course, that’s two more days than he’s taking off. Possibly four more, if he comes in over the weekend. Mulder spent last Christmas in his basement office. He’d snapped a branch off an evergreen tree in front of the Bureau and given the finger to the security camera. His office smelled good for days.
“My parents are coming over,” she says, and there’s this little twinge of anxiety in her voice that reassures him, somehow. He’s always imagined the Scullys as a perfect television family: the captain and his wife and their four red-headed children running around the lawn. It’s nice to think that even her family is nerve-wracking. “And my brother and his wife are flying in. Usually my parents host it, but they weren’t up to it this year, so…”
She glances at him and sighs. “It’ll be nice,” she says, like she’s trying to convince herself. “I just have to do a lot of cleaning before they get here.”
While he hasn’t spent all that much time at Scully’s apartment, this assertion seems wildly unlikely. Her books are alphabetized. He’s sure her underwear drawer is color-coded. Do not think about her underwear drawer, he reminds himself. That’s definitely one of the Ten Commandments of Platonic Partnerships.
She asks, “How about you?”
He aims for nonchalance, but doesn’t quite get there. “Drinking expired eggnog. Watching ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind.’ The usual.”
The surprise in her voice touches him. He’d assumed it was obvious.
“Yeah, the Mulders don’t really go in for big family gatherings.”
“Well, you could come over to my place.” She’s not looking at him when she says it, so he’s not sure how seriously to take the invitation.
“Nah. The fish would miss me. Thanks, though.”
Finally she stops moving paper around and looks at him. “Seriously, Mulder. You shouldn’t have to be alone on Christmas. My family is…well, I’m sure they’d be glad to meet you.”
This, too, strikes him as highly unlikely, but he keeps his mouth shut. “I appreciate the offer. Enjoy your holiday.” He pats her on the shoulder as he leaves, but her gaze follows him out.