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Mulder/Scully Residence
Christmas Eve
December 24, 2001
4:15 pm

Mulder moved into the kitchen, scanning the finger foods Scully and her 
mother had prepared and laid out for their coming guests.  It was 
something he'd never before imagined he would do - throw a Christmas 
Eve party.  Was he domesticated or what?  

Yes.

Did he mind?

Not in the least.  Which surprised the hell out of more than just him.  
Scully, though she seemed to accept it with ease, still often wore a 
look of puzzlement she could not disguise, though she tried to hide it.

Skinner, the Gunmen, too, watched him with curious eyes.

It was difficult to explain how events in the past year or two had 
changed him, to anyone other than Scully, and even she could never 
fully comprehend the sheer enormity of it all.  Difficult to explain 
how the knowledge of having been abducted, despite the fact that he had 
no memories of it, and learning of what had happened to him when he had 
returned had been and was still a life-altering experience.  To explain 
how watching his child being born, and spending time with William since 
leaving the F.B.I. for consulting work had shown him there was more to 
life than looking for what he believed he now already knew about - the 
existence of aliens.  

Shrugging off the mood-sinking thoughts, he went back to business.  
Scoping out some of the food.

Non-alcoholic Eggnog, pass.  Vegetables and dip, maybe.   Fancy cheeses 
and crackers, possibly.  Interesting yet also scary-looking pate with 
more fancy crackers, fat chance.

Chips, pretzels and cheesies - his contributions - check, check and 
check.  He had to sample some of each, of course.

Wouldn't you know it the minute he dipped his hand in the first bowl, 
Scully walked into the kitchen?  One of the few times his Scully-radar 
failed.

"Mulder!"

He jumped, whirling around in surprise. "Scuh-LEEE!"  His voice rose 
and cracked like an adolescent schoolboy's, and he felt his ears 
redden.  Putting his hands on his hips, he tried for innocent 
indignation.  "What?"

"No snacking," she told him, coming over to waggle her finger in his 
face.  Then she had the audacity to pat him on the belly and turn away, 
teasingly calling back over her shoulder as she moved to the fridge, "I 
wouldn't want you to lose that fine figure of yours."

Sucking in his gut exaggeratedly, he swaggered after her.  "Ah, but 
Scully," he crooned as he draped himself over her slightly bent figure 
while she reached into one of the fridge's lower shelves.  "I know I 
have you to help mework it off."  Adding a little thrust of his hips 
to punctuate his come-on.

Scully responded by wiggling her ass and remarking in a sex-kittenish 
voice that was totally ruined for him by the sarcasm he realized it 
contained, "Oh, baby, take me right here, right now."  She then 
straightened and stepped back, using her not-inconsiderable strength to 
push him out of her way, turning to face him.  Her eyebrow arched, and 
she continued in a droll voice, "With our guests due to arrive in 15 
minutes, and my mother upstairs with William."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Scully?" he teasingly pouted. 

"Taking a break," was her quick and slightly muffled response, tossed 
over her shoulder as she had turned back to reach into the fridge.  A 
second later she had turned to face him again, thrusting a jar of 
pickles into his mid-section.  "Open this and put some in that pickle 
tray on the counter, please," she requested.

"Yes, dear."  Pickle jar in hand, he moved over to the counter and 
began to do her bidding.  Behind him, he heard rustling noises as 
Scully removed something else from the fridge.  He glanced over his 
shoulder to see her carrying a large platter of what looked like deli 
meats.  Now that was something he could eat.

Cellophane crinkled as she apparently uncovered the tray.  By the time 
he turned around with the pickles and sweet onions artfully arranged, 
if he did say so himself, the other trays and platters on the table had 
been shifted about, with the meat platter at one end, near a basket of 
rolls and a dish of butter pats.

His stomach rumbled.  "Looks great, Scully," he told her honestly, 
watching her nod absently, the curls of her hair bobbing.  

Her hair.  She had styled it differently, with some of it pinned up, 
and the rest curling to dangle around her ears and neck.  It looked 
good.   Really, really good.

Sexy.  Hot.

He realized with a start that he had not complimented her on her 
appearance at all, that he hadn't even really looked at her outfit.  
His eyes slowly traveled appreciatively over her figure, from her high-
heeled clad feet to the diamond studs in her ears.

A long, silky, ankle-length black skirt that hugged her hips and ass, 
and flared just a little at the hem, and an equally feature-hugging, 
clingy, short-sleeved top in a dark purple accentuated her trim, sexy 
shape.  The neckline of the top, square and a bit low, garnered an 
extra bit of attention, of course.

She looked ravishing.  And sadly, there was no time for him to do a bit 
of ravishing.

"Scully," he said softly, and when she turned her head to look at him, 
he continued, "You look incredible."

She flashed him a dazzling smile, her cheeks pinking charmingly, and 
said, "Thank-you, Mulder."  Her head cocked to one side.  "You're 
looking rather handsome yourself, you know."  

He dipped his head in a nod of thanks, and rocked back on his heels a 
bit, holding his hands out in front of himself, gesturing at his 
attire.  "What, this old thing?" he joked.

This old thing was the khaki pants hunter green v-sweater she had 
requested that he wear.

"It looks sexy," she murmured, her lids lowering as she eyed him from 
head to toe, and set his heart a-thumping.  "But we've no time for 
that," she said a bit wistfully, and looked away.

Mulder sighed.  Later.  Much, much later.

Stepping back a little then, Scully instead eyed the table.  "It does 
look good, doesn't it?"  Her voice was filled with pride.  A second 
later she murmured, "Except we're missing the napkins, plates and 
utensils.  I wonder where I-"

The doorbell rang, halting her in mid-sentence, and they glanced at 
each other and then the clock on the wall.

4:30 on the dot.  Punctual.  He wondered if it was Skinner, Doggett and 
Reyes, or the Gunmen.   Guess he'd find out soon enough.

"Why don't you get that, and I'll find the plates and napkins?" Mulder 
suggested.  He was fairly certain he knew where everything was, not to 
mention that this way he could filch a few bites of various goodies 
without witnesses.

Scully nodded, and brushed a fleeting kiss in the vicinity of his cheek 
as she moved past him to go answer the door.

~*~*~

Pausing at the mirror on the wall in the front alcove, Scully gave 
herself a quick once-over, then moved over to peer through the 
peephole, rising on her toes.

Skinner's large, oft-times imposing figure was easily recognizable, if 
somewhat distorted through the lens, as was Monica Reyes' dark hair.   
Other blurry shapes that she recognized as John Doggett and the Gunmen 
milled around the two.  Smiling, Scully unlocked the door and twisted 
the knob, letting the heavy wood swing open wide.

Before she could say anything, Monica leapt forward, pulling Scully 
into her arms for a hug, exuberantly chirping, "Ho ho ho!"

Startled, Scully did not immediately react, her hands hanging limply at 
her sides for a moment, before she responded.  Giving Monica a hug in 
return, she murmured, "Merry Christmas, Monica."

After Monica had released her and stepped back, Skinner then embraced 
Scully, somewhat awkwardly, one arm extended outward, laden with gaily 
decorated Christmas gift bags.  Scully noted with inward amusement as 
she was pulled against his chest for a one-armed hug that the AD's ears 
were the same endearingly red color Mulder's had been when she had 
caught him attempting to snack on the food in the kitchen.  Something 
she was positive Mulder was doing right that minute.

"Good to see you, Ag--, ah... Dana," Skinner said, his hand squeezing 
her shoulder as he let her go.

"You too, Sir," she replied, and then laughed.  "I mean, Walter."  They 
exchanged smiles before he stepped aside.  Seeing John and the Gunmen 
apparently lined up for hugs as well, their arms likewise-burdened with 
Christmas gifts, she said, "Why don't you guys come inside first?  It's 
chilly out there!"

Everyone shuffled in agreeably once she had stepped back inside the 
house, one hand on the edge of the door, the other gesturing them in.

Boots and coats were removed, to be placed in the shoe tray or hung up 
in the closet, more greetings and hugs exchanged, and then they moved 
en masse to the family room where their Christmas tree had been set up.

William was there with his Grandma, wearing an outfit she had bought 
for her grandson for this occasion - dark green corduroy overalls, red 
Christmas socks with candy canes all over them, and a red turtleneck.   
He babbled excitedly when he saw everyone, particularly Frohike, who 
got a loud, "BA BA BA!" when the little man moved over to chuck 
William's chin.

Mulder walked in a few seconds later, suspicious cheesie-like crumbs 
dotting his sweater, his right hand brushing over his face quickly.  
Scully moved over to wrap one arm around his waist, her other hand 
brushing the crumbs away from his chest before she brought it up to 
swipe at his lips with her thumb.  "You missed some, Mulder," she told 
him.

He merely grinned unrepentantly at her, before pecking her cheek 
quickly and pulling free of her embrace to go shake the men's hands and 
to press a kiss of welcome on Monica's cheek.

Once everyone had said hello to all, for it seemed their arrival at 
their front door had been a coincidence, with Doggett and Reyes having 
come together, and Skinner and the Gunmen in their own vehicles just 
minutes after, they sat down to do a gift exchange.

William, of course, made out like a bandit.

Toys, clothes, books, computer software.  And that was just from the 
Gunmen.   John and Monica had gone in on a gift together, and gotten 
William several Walt Disney movies.  Skinner had purchased his godson a 
savings bond and a rather elaborate train set.

The adults were next, gifts shared with much laughter, before they 
moved into the kitchen to partake of the buffet-style food.  While her 
mother happily dealt with William and his dinner, Scully began to fill 
her plate.

A warm familiar hand slid over her lower back, fingertips grazing the 
top of her ass, to cup her hip, and Mulder's rangy body pressed up 
against her backside.   His voice whispered in her ear, sending tingles 
along her spine as his mouth just touched her lobe.  "I just had to 
tell you again how incredible you look."  He paused, breathing softly, 
and then added, "Sexy.  Mouth-watering.  Delectable."

Her head fell back, helplessly, revealing more of her neck to him, and 
she swayed in place.  His voice had amazing power over her.  As did his 
hands, now cupping both her hips, and his lips, gently nibbling on her 
skin.

Frohike grumblingly interrupted their moment with a comment.  "Hey, 
take the love-fest elsewhere.  Some of us are hungry."

Oh, I hunger, Scully thought, and felt the blush bloom on her cheeks.  
"Sorry," she coughed, straightening up, hearing Mulder's unabashed 
chuckle, followed by his retort to Frohike.

"Jealousy'll get you nowhere, little man."  Mulder's tone, light and 
teasing, took away the sting of the words, and both men laughed after 
Frohike flipped Mulder the bird.  As did everyone else.

The meal was as enjoyable an affair as the gift exchange, everyone 
finding somewhere to sit in the family room - the floor, sharing the 
ottoman, hunched over a filled plate on the couch.

Later, Skinner set-up the train set, and sprawled unconcernedly on the 
floor in front of it.  William was sitting with his back resting 
against Skinner's middle, the man and the baby watching the train go 
around the track over and over again.  They all laughed each time 
William squealed with delight.

Scully announced she was going to put on coffee, and Frohike sprang to 
his feet, offering his assistance, an odd, and perhaps anticipatory 
smile on his face.  She thanked him and they headed to the kitchen.  
There really wasn't much for him to do as she filled the carafe with 
water and set the ground beans to percolating, so they chatted about 
their plans for the following day.

Mulder, William and she were going to her mother's house for Christmas 
dinner, and Byers was going to be cooking the Gunmen's turkey, complete 
with all the trimmings.

It was while she was reaching up in the cupboard for the coffee mugs 
that she heard Frohike cough, followed by a rustling noise.  When she 
turned around to see if he was all right, after putting the mugs in her 
hands on the counter, she saw that he was standing less than a foot 
away, a sprig of mistletoe held above his head.

Oh, dear.

His expression was part leer, part hopefulness.   The little man 
waggled his eyebrows then exaggeratedly looked upwards.  "Oh, look, 
it's mistletoe!" he exclaimed.

Scully had to laugh at his antics, and he grinned in response.  

"So, whaddya say?" he asked then, giving the mistletoe a little shake.

There was movement beyond Frohike, at the doorway, and her eyes flicked 
from the little man to see Mulder standing there, looking amused.  She 
opened her mouth, and Mulder shook his head, bringing his finger to his 
lips, presumably asking her to be silent about his presence.  He 
started to creep forward.

Shifting her eyes back to Frohike, she nodded and murmured, "Close your 
eyes, Frohike."

They immediately closed, and her smile widened.  What a sweetheart he 
was.  A pseudo-pervert, but a sweetheart nonetheless.  She moved to his 
side, just as Mulder silently reached Frohike's other side.  Her brows 
creasing, she sent him a look, one that asked 'what are you up to?'

He grinned and pursed his lips at her, jutting his chin towards 
Frohike, and held up one hand, showing her three fingers.  

Understanding dawned.  On the count of three, they would act together.  
She nodded and watched his hand, watched him count to three.  

When he reached it, they simultaneously kissed Frohike on his cheeks.

His anticipatory smile turned to a frown, and Scully knew his mind had 
registered two different sets of lips kissing him.  His eyes popped 
open wide.

The expression on his face when he saw both her and Mulder was 
priceless still leaning towards him.  Their combined laughter drew 
everyone else's attention, and Scully let Mulder tell the tale.  To 
Frohike's chagrin.

~*~*~

Christmas Eve
Later...

9:50 pm


Mulder watched Scully approach, admiring the gentle sway of her hips, 
and the way her clingy top hugged her breasts.  His cock stirred.

"William asleep?" he asked softly when she had sank down onto the couch 
beside him, leaning slightly into him, their bodies in contact from hip 
to shoulder.

She nodded.  "Yep.  Out like a light, and I do believe down for the 
count."

"That's good."  He lifted his left arm and draped it around her, his 
hand cupping her shoulder briefly before he started stroking his 
fingers gently up and down.  "We had a nice time today, didn't we?"

"That we did," she agreed, turning slightly towards him and snuggling 
into him, her head lying back to rest on his arm.   "Mistletoe and 
all."

She rolled her head to look at him, and they shared a grin at the 
memory of Frohike's pained comment of mock-disgust after he had 
realized Mulder had kissed him as well.

Settling back down, a moment or two later she murmured, "The Gunmen are 
going to spoil William rotten.  They got him some wonderful gifts."

"Mm-hmmm," he hummed, thinking both about the Fisher Price Baby 
Smartronics Computer Learning System, and the heat of her body aligned 
against his.  The stirring intensified.  

"Speaking of gifts," he said after a moment or two of comfortable 
silence, deliberately letting his voice trail off.

Scully waited a second before responding, waiting for him to continue, 
he knew.  "What about them?" she asked, sounding drowsy and only half-
interested.

He turned his head so he could nuzzle his face into her hair.  Letting 
his voice become teasing, and hopefully intriguing enough to rouse her 
interest further, he murmured, "I've got another early Christmas 
present for you."

Her body twitched, and he heard her quick inhalation.  She cleared her 
throat, and replied, trying desperately to not sound eager, "You do?"

"Yup," was all he said, counting silently in his head.  One, two, 
three-

"Where is it?" she demanded, sitting up and twisting her body so that 
she faced him, one hand coming to rest on his chest.

When it came to presents, she was so predictable.   Smiling, he covered 
her hand with his, squeezed her fingers.  "In the bedroom," he told 
her, having snuck in there while she was putting William to bed.  He 
had gambled that she wouldn't go to their room when finished, but 
instead seek him out, knowing he had been sitting on the couch before.  
Fortunately he had won the gamble.  Though it wouldn't have been a big 
deal if she had found it first, other than perhaps spoiling - just a 
little - the activity he had planned to go with the present.

He felt her fingers flex, and his smile deepened.   She was holding 
back, barely.  "Why don't you go open it, then meet me back here?" he 
said.  Hopefully wearing it, he added silently.

An eyebrow arched, and a smile curved her lips, curiosity rampant in 
her eyes.  "O-kay," she said slowly.  "I'll do that."  Leaning forward, 
she pecked him on the cheek, before using her hand on his chest to 
lever herself off the couch, laughing at his grunt of surprise.  "Be 
back in a few," she promised, and made him smile again at her attempt 
at nonchalance as she headed quickly to their bedroom.

Once she had cleared the room, Mulder was off the couch in a flash.  He 
turned the two table lamps off, so that the room was lit now only by 
the lights of the Christmas tree, and then reached behind the sofa for 
the blanket he had stashed there earlier, taking it over to the tree.

After spreading it out to his satisfaction, he stripped down to the red 
silk boxers he had changed into during his mission to deposit Scully's 
present, elegantly wrapped and decorated with a pretty red bow, on the 
middle of their bed.  In an obvious attempt to display it so that there 
would be no way she could miss the rather large box.

He paused, imagining her approaching the bed, quivering with excitement 
as she entered the room, and then spying the present.  She had two 
styles of gift opening, and he wondered which one it would be this 
time. There was the method she usually used with company, carefully 
peeling each piece of tape off with her fingernails, so as not to tear 
the paper.  Taking her time.  Then there was the uncontrollable ripping 
that sometimes occurred when he surprised her with presents as he was 
want to do, tissue paper and scraps of Christmas wrapping flying 
everywhere as she strove to get to the gift as quickly as possible.

His mind then moved on to her reaction when she opened the box and the 
tissue paper inside.  Was she laughing right now, already changing into 
it?  God, he hoped so.

Picturing her in it, his cock became semi-hard, the silk of his boxers 
an exquisite torment on his sensitized flesh.

"Slow down there," he said quietly to himself.  "Slow and easy."  He 
gathered up his discarded clothes and laid them in a messy pile on one 
corner of the couch and retrieved one last item before returning to the 
blanket.

He knelt down, fixed the one corner that was under the tree, fixed the 
Santa Hat atop his head, and then arranged himself so that he lay on 
his side along the blanket.  Propped on one elbow with his ankles 
crossed negligently.

Waiting, while his heart pounded furiously.

He sensed her nearing even before he heard the quiet click of her 
heels.  As he'd always been able to, for years.  How, he'd never 
questioned.  He'd just accepted it.

Appreciated it.  Treasured it.

Excitement and anticipation had his breath stuttering in his lungs.  He 
stared at the doorway, and could not blink when the vision of sexy 
loveliness filled his eyes, and his heart.

Scully stood poised, posed, her arm up so that her hand rested high on 
the jamb, supporting her weight as she leaned into it.  Along with the 
nearly sheer, red teddy trimmed with imitation white fur and the sheer 
white stockings and red garters he had bought at Victoria's Secret, she 
was wearing red stiletto heels he hadn't known she owned.  

His eyes didn't know where to start or to stay.  They moved from her 
breasts, where her hard nipples were clearly visible, to the shadowy 
triangle of her mound, making him squint as he tried to figure out if 
she was wearing any panties or not.  Not, he decided happily after 
several pleasurable seconds.  The garters around her thighs had him 
swallowing thickly, had his cock twitching.  And the shoes, God the 
wonderful things those shoes did to her already incredible legs.

It took him a long moment to find his voice.  Even then he was only 
capable of uttering her name in a low, guttural tone.  "Scuh-leee."

"Mm-mmm," she murmured, shaking her head playfully.  "Mrs. Claus."

Striding forward in this graceful, leopard-like way, her hand trailing 
slowly and seductively down the wood of the doorjamb as she left its 
support, she purred, "Has Santa been naughty or nice?"

God, he loved her.

"He...he's been naughty," he rasped.  "But he's going to be really, 
really nice now."  He held a hand out to her, which she took after 
toeing her shoes off and nudging them aside, and helped her to kneel 
down on the blanket before him.

"Does...does Mrs. Claus like her present?"  he got out next.  The Mrs. 
Claus lingerie outfit had been partly a gag gift, partly a secret 
fantasy/wish, one he had not been entirely certain she would 
appreciate.  Even though she had surprised him in the past with the 
get-ups she would wear to spice up their sex life.  Or the get-ups she 
had asked *him* to wear.

"Yes, she does," she murmured, one hand coming up to toy with the 
neckline of the negligee, drawing his eyes there immediately.  "Very, 
very much."

"Santa's glad," he told her.  Then semi-echoed her words, "Very, very 
glad."

With a seductive move and whisper of sound, Scully shifted to lie as he 
was, facing him, only inches separating their bodies.  "This is...well, 
this is wonderful, Mulder," she said, breaking their Santa/Mrs. Claus 
play.

He grinned - he had to be him.  "It will be."  

Bringing his free hand up, he cupped the back of her neck and applied 
gentle pressure to urge her face closer to his, leaning his into her at 
the same time.  Their mouths met in a gentle, closed-lipped kiss.

That grew into more as they opened to one another, breathed in each 
other's breath, and each other's love.  Tongues touched delicately, 
almost tentatively, before becoming bolder, stabbing at and sliding 
against each other.

They broke for air briefly, and immediately dived back in.  

Their passion intensified.  Hands fisted in hair, breasts pushed 
urgently against muscled chest, legs twined together.  Pelvis met 
pelvis, rocking and thrusting.

Unable to hold himself up any longer, and desperate to feel her body 
beneath his, Mulder rolled Scully onto her back, settling his weight 
partly on top of her.  In doing so, their mouths were separated.  He 
compensated by burying his face in her neck, by sucking on the tendon 
that stood in sharp relief as she arched into his embrace.

Her hands grew wild on his back - nails lightly scoring his flesh, 
fingers digging into muscle.  Swooping down to clutch at his ass.  Up 
again to fist once more in his hair.

His own hands were equally busy.  One was in her hair, while the other 
was occupied with cupping and shaping each of her breasts through the 
negligee, then inching the sheer material slowly upwards to confirm 
that she was indeed panty-less, fingers now dipping down to toy with 
one garter.  Retracing the same route, over and over.

On the next path, his hand slid down past the garter, to stroke over 
her stocking-covered thigh.  Lifting his head to stare into her eyes, 
he nudged the garter up, his fingers next sliding under the hem of her 
stocking to begin tugging it gently downward.  "And the stockings were 
undone by the chimney with care," he intoned in his best storybook 
voice.

Scully laughed - a deep, full, body-shaking laugh that *he* felt clear 
to his toes.  "Mulder!" she spluttered in between lingering giggles.  
"That's not how the story goes!"

"It does the way I tell it," he crooned, and then successfully removed 
the first stocking with dexterous one-handed maneuvering.  Shifting 
once again, he trailed his lips upwards along her smooth, bare calf, 
his tongue coming out to circle her kneecap before he looked up again, 
blinking lazily at her.  "It's much more fun my way, Scully."

With that, he moved his hand to her other stocking, this time using his 
nose to push that garter out of his way.  Smiling to himself when she 
shivered and her legs moved restlessly.  He took his time skimming it 
down her leg, his mouth following behind his fingers, nibbling and 
licking at her soft, fragrant skin.  

After pulling it free of her sexily painted toes and tossing the thin 
bit of gossamer silk over his shoulder, he cupped his palm around her 
heel, lifting her foot up to his mouth.  He traced the knob of her 
anklebone with the tip of his tongue before drawing it into his mouth 
and sucking on it.

Her foot twitched in his hand, and she moaned.

Releasing her foot, he laid it back down on the blanket so that her leg 
was stretched out once more, and then traveled up her leg thusly, 
meandering and sometimes backtracking - kissing, licking and sucking.  
No rhyme or reason to his path, no way for her to anticipate where he 
might go next.  

Keeping her on the edge, feeding her arousal.  And his.

When he reached the obstacle of the garter, he nipped at it with his 
teeth, making sure he scraped at her tender flesh as he did so, pulling 
it away from her thigh.  He tugged gently, looking up to meet Scully's 
smoldering gaze while making a playful growling noise low in his 
throat, and then he released it, letting the elastic snap back.

Scully jumped at the erotic pain, her back arching briefly.  "God, 
Mulder."  

He flashed her a toothy smile, and resumed his garter-play.  Once he 
had both garters off, also tossed somewhere over his shoulder like her 
stocking, he slid up until they were face-to-face, propped on his 
elbows and laying in the cradle of her legs.  

"I've been remiss again," he said softly, shifting to lean on one elbow 
so that he could bring his other hand to her face and skim his 
fingertips along her cheekbone to her jaw and back.  Again and again.

"How's that?" Scully whispered back.

"I didnt tell you how beautiful you look in this."  His hand slid down 
her neck to toy with a negligee strap, his finger absently following 
the neckline, dipping into the vee of her breasts and up to the other 
strap.

"Yes, you did," she assured him.  When he drew his eyebrows down in a 
silent question, she explained, "You told me by the way you looked at 
me.  By the way your eyes caressed me.  By the way your breath came 
faster and your hands trembled.  You told me with every action of your 
body, instead of with your voice."

Her words enflamed his passion, his soul, and he preceded to show her 
without words how very much he loved her.  Wanted her.  Needed her.

Afterwards, they snuggled together, partially wrapped in the blanket, 
lying beneath their Christmas tree.  And when the mantel clock quietly 
bonged midnight, he awoke his sleeping beauty with a tender kiss, 
smiling when her eyelashes fluttered opened and closed.

"Merry Christmas, Scully," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Mulder."

THE END

Merry Christmas everybody.

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