My Dad’s Toys Magazines
In the dinning room of their new house.
Mulder and Scully sitting at their dinner table waiting for their 8-year-old son to join them for dinner.
Mulder (exasperated): Where is he again? What is he even doing?
Scully (calmly): He’s probably just in his room doing some tidying up. I asked him to do it yesterday, but he kept finding excuses not to.
Mulder (surprised): And you let him?
Scully (frowning): What do you mean?
Mulder (smiling): I mean, you let him get away with his excuses? If I’d known you were that lenient I would have…
Scully (sighing): He’s our son, Mulder. He can prove to be quite persuasive. Especially with his cute little face and his angelic eyes. I wonder from who he gets those.
Mulder (reaching for his wife’s hand): Those baby blue eyes. They’re his most beautiful feature.
Scully (acting as if she were shocked): …
Mulder (leaning forwards, over the table to kiss her): I like it when you pretend to be obfuscated.
Their lips are almost touching when they hear their son rushing in the stairs. He bursts in through the kitchen holding a big pile of magazines and catalogs.
William (sitting at the table): Mom, I just finished cleaning my room. I found these toy catalogues. They were in a box at the bottom of my wardrobe.
Scully (smiles fondly at her son): Thank you Will. What was written on the box?
William (quizzically): “M. Study. Upstairs”. I don’t know what it means.
Mulder (truly shocked): Was it scealed?
Scully (curious): The movers probably put it in Will’s room by error. Is it one of yours, Mulder?
Mulder (nodding emphatically): Yeah, it belongs in my study.
Mulder tries to grab the pile of magazines besides William. The little boy puts his hand firmly on it.
William: Dad, no! I know why it was in my room! Since Christmas is coming, you hid those magazines so Mom couldn’t find them. They are toys catalogues!
Scully (very interested): Is it so, Mulder? That’s so sweet.
She pats her husband’s hand, but notices his flustered face. She looks at the cover of the first magazine Will is trying to shield from her.
William (frustrated): Come on, mom! You don’t want to spoil your Christmas gifts! That’s not fair for Dad.
Their son shakes his head, messing up the strands of hair falling across his forehead. He looks so much like her husband.
Scully (insisting): Will, can you hand me one, please?
William’s sighs dejectedly and pushes the entire pile towards his mother. Scully’s eyes widen and she looks up at Mulder who seems to be ready to explode. His face is crimson and his ears are redder than tomatoes.
Scully (eyebrows disappearing under her red-haired frange): Mulder.
Mulder (deeply embarrassed): Yes, honey?
William (picking up a carrot from his plate): Mom, you don’t want Dad to pick your gift from those catalogues?
Scully (muttering): Mulder, kitchen. Now.
She doesn’t need to repeat herself. Mulder is gone in a flash with the stack of magazines under his arm. William gapes at his father’s empty seat.
Scully (forcing on a smile and turning to her son): Eat those carrots, Will. We’ll come back in a sec.
William knows when he shouldn’t reply and this is one of those occasions. He gently takes another carrot and chews it gingerly. His mother joins his father in the kitchen. The little boy can hear them murmuring but he can’t quite make out the words. He stops trying to listen and concentrates on picking at his mash potatoes.
In the kitchen.
Mulder holds the magazines to his chest and waits anxiously for his wife to say something.
Scully (closing her eyes and sighing deeply): Wtf, Mulder?
Mulder (apologetically): Sorry, Scully. I remember now that I couldn’t find them.
Scully (throwing her hands in the air): You hid your didty mags in your son’s room?
Mulder (sheepishly): I meant to take them and place them in my study. Like you said, the movers must have mixed up the rooms and it ended up in Will's…
Scully (facepalming herself): Mulder, I told you years ago to throw them away.
Mulder (puppy face): But… they’re collector’s editions! You can’t throw them away.
Mulder (protesting): And you can’t say no. I had them before I met you!
Scully (pressing an accusing finger on her husband’s chest): You should be thankful, Mister, that your son is still naive and thought these were toys catalogues.
Mulder (can’t help grinning): Want to order something for Christmas, honey?