Title: Tokens of the Wise
Author: Philiater
Category: Christmas Vignette, Mulder/Scully, mild angst.
Timeline: Post The Truth
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were.
Beta thanks to Sallie-above and beyond the call of duty.
Author's Notes at the end.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Teena Mulder *would* choose a watch that no generic
band would fit, Scully thought with despair. The row of
gleaming metal bands inside the jeweler's case seemed to
mock her. Mulder's wristwatch was a Smith-Martin;
something affordable in years past, but now was one of
the most expensive timepieces on the market. The paltry
sum in her pocket was nowhere near the amount it would
take to purchase even the cheapest of them.
The plastic salesman inside the upscale jewelry store was
polite with her inquiries, but one look at her modest
clothing told him she was in no position to purchase
anything from him. The moment a client with a designer
suit and an expensive dye-job strolled in, he vanished.
As she left the mall, Scully silently cursed Mulder's
mother, their appalling circumstances, and her inability to
do anything about it. Trying to replace the broken
watchband as a Christmas present was turning out to be a
pipedream.
Mulder told her that he'd had the watch for close to
twenty years, a personal gift from his mother when he
graduated from the academy. It had survived corrosion by
alien slime, blood sucking vampires, and narrowly
escaped being abducted with him.
Like her cross, it had been left behind to be discovered by
those who loved him. Skinner had stumbled onto it as it
lay among the rocks and dead pine needles that covered
the cold ground in Bellefleur. It was also the only thing
Skinner had been able to bring back with him from
Oregon, and he'd turned it over to her.
"It was all I could find," he'd whispered in her hospital
room.
"I'll keep it until he gets back," she'd answered with cool
conviction.
Skinner had bowed his head in shame. "Yes, just until he
gets back."
She'd held onto that watch, never letting it leave her sight.
She'd had to remove several links to accommodate her
small wrist; the interlocking clasp circling all the way
around the band to reach the other side of the watch face.
Even then, it dangled loosely about her wrist. The extra
links were wrapped in a handkerchief and placed inside a
box to wait in dark silence for him to return.
When he came back, she placed it on his wrist and buried
it with his lifeless body. It was still working when he was
exhumed three months later.
"Hey, Scully," he'd joked. "I'm just like my watch. 'Takes
a lickin' and keeps on tickin'."
She hadn't seen the humor.
In the end she realized the watch had come to mean more
to her than to Mulder. She wanted to save it. Somehow
saving it meant they'd be all right; that they'd stay alive a
little longer. They could stay free.
As she made her way back to their cheap hotel, an idea
struck her. With new purpose, she passed their building
and stopped in front of one two blocks down.
The pawn shop's yellow lights winked merrily in the
gloom. It would only be for a little while, she told herself.
They could buy it back later.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Absently, Mulder fingered the small box inside his pocket
as he walked briskly across the street. It wasn't safe to be
out in public for very long, even among the holiday
crowds of a large city.
It was Christmas Eve, and he'd finally managed to secure
Scully a gift. Because they were always together, he
knew it would be impossible to purchase one without her
knowing about it. When she'd suggested they split up
briefly so that one could shop for the other, he'd jumped
at the chance.
"Just for a little while," she'd said. "I'd like to surprise
you."
It had been a good idea at the time, but the longer he
looked for something special, the less likely he thought
he'd find it
The real problem was that he couldn't afford to buy her
much of a Christmas gift. They were just scraping by as it
was and simply couldn't spare the extra cash. If the
Gunmen had been alive, they could have smuggled some
of Mulder's inheritance out of the bank without raising
suspicion.
They weren't alive, of course, and he lacked their
extraordinary expertise at subterfuge. His modest fortune
was left to rot away in a New Hampshire vault, quietly
earning interest for a man who could never spend it.
Irony, thy name is Mulder.
Occasionally, Skinner was able to get away without being
followed, and he gave them what money he could. Like
everyone else they knew, he was watched too closely by
'them' for it to be very often. Every time he met with
them on some back road or inside a dingy motel room in
a godforsaken small town, he said the same thing.
"I know it's not much..."
"It's plenty, sir. Thank you."
"Do you need anything else? Food, medical supplies?"
More often than not, he was looking at Scully when he
asked. Mulder also suspected Skinner slipped Scully
extra cash when he wasn't looking.
"No, sir. We have enough."
Neither believed the thin lie, but they let it go to spare the
other embarrassment. After a few minutes of inane small
talk, Skinner would leave as quickly as he'd come.
His brief visits were some of the few bright moments
Mulder and Scully had shared. Even though they looked
forward to seeing him, ultimately they were left with a
feeling of emptiness. Skinner was a reminder of their past
lives and the people they'd left behind.
Scully would retreat from him emotionally for hours after
a visit, and he'd find her fingering her gold cross with
absent concentration.
Her cross was her talisman, having journeyed with her
through years of harrowing X-Files encounters. No
matter how many times it was nearly lost, somehow it
managed to find its way back around her neck.
He'd kept it for her during her abduction and returned it
when she'd come back. She'd given it to Emily, her only
daughter, but it reappeared when Emily's coffin was
found to contain nothing but the necklace and sand. He'd
also retrieved it when she was abducted again and taken
to Antarctica.
Over the years, the cross had become the physical
embodiment of his partner, and he'd let it become as
important to him as it clearly was to her. Now, she never
took it off, not even in bed, an issue he liked to bring up
to tease her about.
"I'll take it off when you take that watch off," she'd sniff.
"Now wait just a minute-"
She usually shut him up by kissing him and more, making
him forget all about it in lieu of the matter at hand.
He finally stopped the teasing one night when she
answered him with something other than her usual retort.
"We have so little. I don't think I can stand to lose
anything else."
The quiet pain he'd heard in her voice had cut into his
soul. She seldom allowed her true feelings about their
situation to show through, and he knew this was a rare
glimpse into her heart.
They *had* lost more than any two people should.
They'd lost too many humans they loved to the causes of
nameless, faceless men inside governmental conspiracies.
And William. He couldn't stand to think about William.
Loss was the reason he'd purchased her this particular gift.
He noticed the clasp on the chain that held her cross was
broken. She'd pieced it together using some ugly type of
black wiring and kept it at the back of her neck so it
wouldn't be seen.
Something about the simple act of her repairing it without
a comment touched him deeply. In all the time they'd be
on the run, Scully had never asked for anything for
herself. She'd endured a seemingly endless series of
dumpy motels, bad food, and fly-by-night jobs, all
without a single complaint. She deserved something
special.
The idea to replace the broken gold chain was one that
wouldn't leave him alone. He didn't want to buy
something cheap and turn her neck green; she might as
well wear the old one if that occurred.
He toyed with the idea of stealing one, but the
consequences if he were caught would be too great.
As he was returning from the stores in defeat, a street
vendor with the proverbial store-in-a-suitcase accosted
him.
"Hey mister, you need a Christmas gift for the little lady
in your life?"
"No, no thanks." Mulder tried to dodge him, but the man
was persistent.
"Ah come on. I'll bet I have something you'd want."
The hustler opened his case and a row of gold chains
twinkled out from a cheap black velvet interior. The sight
made Mulder pause and he reached forward to finger a
pretty box-chain that he thought would be perfect for
Scully's cross.
"See, I knew I'd have something you want. Real pretty,
huh?"
Mulder knew the necklaces were probably hot and that
the huckster was trying to unload them quickly, but he
doubted he'd have enough cash to bargain with him.
"Yeah, but I don't think I have enough to buy one."
"Wait a minute, maybe we can work something out."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. If you ain't got cash, you got somethin' to trade?"
A slow smile spread across Mulder's face. "You got a box
to put it in?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Scully was already in their room when he got back. He
knocked with three short raps; their agreed upon signal.
She answered with two long knocks, letting him know all
was well within.
When he opened the door, he found their dank little room
had been transformed into a warm, almost festive place.
Several small candles were lit and scattered around.
Aluminum foil had been shaped into stars, crumpled into
balls and hung around to reflect the candlelight.
Snowflakes cut out of white paper were taped to the
grimy windows.
Their linoleum dining table was covered with a sheet and
a meager, but great-smelling Christmas dinner was placed
on top. She'd done a terrific job in spite of their limited
funds.
"Hey," he said and kissed her sweetly.
"Hey."
He reached behind him and dragged a small, rather thin
Christmas tree through the door before closing and
locking it securely.
"Where did you get this?" she asked with a raised
eyebrow.
"A nice man in a tree lot gave it to me. Actually, he was
trying to get rid of the rest of his trees and this was the
best he had left."
"How nice of him," she said dryly, but there was humor
underneath the sarcasm.
"AND," he said whipping a package of microwave
popcorn out of his pocket," we can put this on it for
decoration. Just like when we were kids."
"Mulder, just how were you planning on doing that? We
don't have any needles or thread to string it."
"Oh." Clearly he'd forgotten the most important part.
Didn't she have a small sewing kit somewhere?
"Put that tree over in the corner and sit down. Dinner is
ready."
He propped the tree against the wall and used an armchair
to keep it from falling over.
They ate dinner slowly, discussing their individual
adventures in the crowded malls. Both had decided that
Christmas shopping was far overrated and not missed by
either of them.
Scully was getting up to clear the dishes when the urge to
grab her became too great. Pulling her down into his lap,
he kissed her surprised mouth.
"Have I told you lately how much I love you Scully?"
She laughed at his impulsive move. "Yes."
"Yes, and?"
"And?" she asked in feigned confusion.
"You supposed to say and I...," he trailed.
"I love you too."
He smiled and kissed her again, trailing his lips around
her face and down her neck. With one hand, he
unbuttoned her shirt so he could gain better access. He
loved to nuzzle the juncture where her neck met her
shoulder. Right where...
"Scully, where's your cross?" he asked, pulling back in
alarm.
A look of guilt flickered across her face before she
replaced it with one of false cheer.
"Let's talk about that later."
"No," he said with rising dread, "I want to talk about this
right now."
Turning her face away from him, she said "Promise you
won't get angry."
"Angry? Why would I get angry?"
"I pawned it."
"You pawned your cross, Scully? Why?"
"To buy you something decent for Christmas."
"Scully, not your cross. Anything but your cross," he said
anxiously.
"It was worth it," she said with conviction. Without
leaving his lap, she reached into her back pocket and took
out a flat, rectangular box.
"Merry Christmas, Mulder."
Staring down at the small container, he wasn't sure if he
could take the top off. She'd pawned her cross for this?
"Open it, Mulder. Please."
With a slight tremor in his hands, he took off the
beribboned lid and reached inside.
A perfect, new watchband lay in a nest of cotton. She'd
bought him a watchband.
After a moment of staring at it, he started to laugh with
loud guffaws, leaning back and nearly sending Scully to
the floor.
"Why are you laughing?" she asked in bewilderment.
"I traded my watch for a chain--a chain for your cross."
He watched as understanding washed over her face, as
she realized as he had, that they'd sacrificed their dearest
possession for the other.
The irony was bitter indeed.
"Oh, oh no." She buried her face in his neck. Her
shoulders began to shake, and he thought she was
laughing. When he felt moisture fall onto his exposed
skin, he knew she was crying.
"Don't cry, Scully. Please don't cry."
"I don't know whether to laugh or cry."
He kissed her tears away, his heart nearly splitting in two
in the face of her selfless gesture. She did laugh finally
and they cried together until they were spent. All the pain,
heartache and loneliness they'd been experiencing while
on the run, came pouring out in a cathartic rush.
"Take me to bed, Mulder," she whispered seductively
into his ear, immediately changing the mood. She didn't
have to ask twice.
They made love slowly, sweetly as if it were the first time
all over again. Afterward he held her close, reveling in
his renewed feelings of hope. In the warm darkness, he
loved her more than ever.
They had nothing, nothing at all, but he considered
himself to be richest man on earth.
"Merry Christmas, Mulder."
"Merry Christmas, Scully."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~End
Author's note: In case you haven't guessed by now, this
story is based on The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry. I
realize Mulder never had a 'special' watch, but it was
important that he own a sentimental object that could go
with him into exile and would be equivalent to Scully's
cross.
****'And here I have lamely related to you the
uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who
most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest
treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of
these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these
two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts,
such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They
are the magi.'
--O. Henry, Gift of the Magi.
(
geocities.com/xmas_files)