Title: Upon This Tree
Author: Gina Rain (ginarain@aol.com)
Rating: PG
Category: MSR
Spoilers: Nothing major. A few small ones pre-
season 7.
Disclaimer: The X-Files belongs to CC and
Company. Is that a shocker, or what?
Summary: Lights . . . mistletoe . . . action!
Special thanks to: Mary Beth. If it weren't for
her providing much needed computer help last
week, they would be fitting me for a padded room
with complimentary shock therapy treatments by
now. Thank you so much!
And once again: Thank you, Sybil, for your great
(and very funny) beta. I am using the original
title of the story in your honor (and because the
alternate title sucked).
XXXXX
She would have paid cold hard cash for a moment
like this. Instead, Santa decided to give her an
early Christmas present. The sight of Mulder
trying to get a stray branch of pine needles away
from his mouth, while not dropping her tree, was
far more precious than silver, gold or
commemorative space flight key chains.
"Do I go in first, or do you?" he asked, as he
paused by the front steps of her apartment
building.
"You do. Otherwise we'll be going against the
direction of the branches and I'll end up with a
very tall twig in my living room."
"Well," he said as climbed the stairs backwards,
holding onto the trunk of the tree, "I thought I
should ask in case the magical laws of Christmas
trees contradicted those of common sense."
He laid the trunk of the tree against one
upraised knee and held out his hand. She lay the
top of the tree down on the step, pulled out her
keys and tossed them up to him. He made an
impressive one-handed catch, managed to open the
door, and they both made it up to her apartment
without losing too much of the tree along the
way. That was teamwork in action.
After storing their outerwear, stopping Mulder
from scrubbing the sap off his hands with a
Brillo pad and setting up the lights and the
boxes of decorations in neat piles, they got down
to the real work.
"No, Mulder. You have to really slam the tree
down against the stand. It needs to be embedded
on those spikes."
"It is."
"It's not. It's wobbling."
"Only because you haven't tightened the screws."
"I know I haven't tightened them. It's because
the tree is not embedded on the spikes. If it's
not, the tree will fall even if the screws are
tightened."
He held on to the middle of the trunk and let out
a huff of air. "I thought I was here for fun, not
tree torture."
"It will be fun. Right after you get over the
frustration of getting the tree in the stand."
He slammed the tree down as hard as he could,
peppering Scully's hair with green needles.
"That's more like it," she said, approvingly, as
she got down on her hands and knees and started
to tighten the long screws against the side of
the trunk.
"That's an older model, isn't it?" Mulder asked,
as he held the tree straight.
"Of what?" she asked.
"The tree holder."
"Oh, yes. I guess so. My parents had a spare
stand and, when I moved out, I took it with me."
"When was that? 1982? And the stand was probably
20 years old then. I now know what to get you
for Christmas: a new stand that doesn't mutilate
the bottom of the tree and elevate my previously
perfect blood pressure."
She smiled to herself as she finished up. She
liked hearing him complain. His slightly raspy
voice made Mulder in whiny-mode more amusing than
annoying.
"So, Scully, how did you manage to get your trees
put up before you invited me here? I mean, I'm
trying to picture you simultaneously holding,
slamming, embedding and screwing. Frankly, the
idea is surprisingly un-sexy and downright
unsettling. Did you borrow some burly guy like--
oh, say Skinner to come here, strip down to the
waist and do it for you?"
Scully resisted the urge to try and remove some
of the sap from her hands by rubbing them against
her jeans and gestured for him to follow her into
the kitchen.
"Skinner has not been prancing around my
apartment in his skivvies, Mulder. Without your
company, I paid the young man who normally
delivers the trees a little extra and he helped
me." She reached in under her sink, removed a
bottle of paint thinner, put some on a rag and
gently worked the sap from her hands.
"Shirtless?" Mulder asked.
"Are you trying to tell me something here,
Mulder? Do you have a need to go topless? Because
I have to tell you, the sap removal from your
chest hair might be a little more complicated."
He smiled and took the container from her.
In a few moments, they were back to the business
of tree trimming. Scully stopped Mulder as he
attempted to string the lights on the tree and
did it herself. It was a delicate operation and
she knew if she left it up to him, she would have
a thousand lights in one spot with the rest of
the tree in darkness. Mulder made himself useful
by sitting on the couch and removing the
wrappings from the ornaments. As he carefully
pulled off each paper napkin from each
decoration, he put it on a pillow that he had
laid on the coffee table.
Scully worked in silence and then stopped. The
room was too quiet. She turned to Mulder and saw
him sitting back and looking at the pillow
covered with ornaments.
"What?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'm just looking at this
little collection. I've seen your trees before
but I never paid that much attention to them. The
tree you are decorating here is not exactly the
type of tree I would expect you to have."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, first of all, you're very practical. A
'real' tree is not at all practical. It's messy.
And, you are also kind of," he stopped himself.
She could see the wheels turning as he tried not
to verbally 'step in it,' as they both knew he
was about to do. "Well, let's just say I would
expect you to have a tree that had only white
lights on it, with Christmas balls that were all
the same color, or maybe two colors--tops.
Instead, you have this real tree, with
multicolored lights and these no-two-the-same
ornaments. It's just not the first thing I'd
expect from you."
She didn't know whether to be flattered or
insulted that he pigeonholed her in such a bland
way. Still, the qualities behind the pigeonholing
were qualities she possessed, and she supposed it
was good that he noticed and appreciated them.
Yes, a woman loved being admired for her sturdy
qualities.
"The trees I had grown up with were all real. I
love the fragrance. It's part of the holidays for
me. And as far as the ornaments, my Grandma
Scully once told me that a tree is more than a
tree. It's a reflection on your own life more
than anything else. I could buy glass balls that
mean nothing to me, or I could hang up my little
collection of ornaments, each of which tells some
sort of story."
Mulder leaned forward and picked up an ornament.
It was an ugly, neon pink spray-painted circle
made up of old aluminum pop-top tabs tied
together with wire.
"Tell me this story," he said.
Scully laughed. "My mother subscribed to Family
Circle. That decoration was in the craft section.
It was so beautiful in the magazine. Melissa and
I went on a non-stop soda-drinking binge for two
weeks. Our results were far less impressive but
it's managed to survive for the last quarter of a
century. Not improving with age, I might add."
She could see the fleeting grimace cross his
face. She knew what he was thinking. The ornament
survived, Melissa did not. Sooner or later, he
would come across the little whale that reminded
her of her father and a similar thought would
spring to mind.
Mulder picked up a beautiful, blown-glass heart.
It was a glowing red with a sprig of glass
'evergreen' on top. "And this?"
She frowned. She wasn't sure she wanted to tell
that story. Well, what difference did it make? It
was a life: her life. And she made the commitment
to share part of it when she invited Mulder to
join her in her little two-person tree-trimming
gathering.
"I bought that one about thirteen or fourteen
years ago. I was still in school and thought I
was in love. During Christmas shopping I saw
these decorations on one of those sample trees
they have in the department stores. At the time,
I thought they were the most beautiful things I
had ever seen. Even though they were expensive, I
bought two of them, one for me, and one for him.
I was 'giving him my heart,' as corny as that
sounds."
"And was he touched?"
"He had no clue. He looked at it as if I had
given him something horrifying and just thanked
me. I saw him the next day and asked if he put it
on his tree and he told me that he had stuffed it
in the pocket of his pants and it broke. He more
or less implied if I hadn't bought such a
ridiculous gift, it wouldn't have happened.
Which, of course, is true."
"And yet you kept your ornament. It's not the
greatest memory."
"Yes. As I said, it's a life: good, bad and ugly.
And the heart is intact and in my possession; not
broken in some guy's pants."
Mulder laughed and went back to unwrapping the
ornaments. Scully finished with the lights and
joined him. She smiled as she uncovered one of
them.
"Look. You're represented on my tree," she said,
as she held up a little green, glow-in-the-dark
alien.
"Aw, Scully," he whined.
"Yes, I know. It was in my early, unenlightened
days. Back when I didn't know aliens are actually
gray." The alien reminded her of something
important. She excused herself and left the room
for a moment.
She quickly went into her bedroom and pulled out
a small box from her dresser. She took a deep
breath and left the room. After a quick detour to
her closet, Scully returned to the living room
with an ornament in her hand.
"What's that?"
"This year's new addition," she held up a small
porcelain dove. It was white with a beautiful
face and eyes that were focused upwards.
"It's beautiful," Mulder said. "And what does it
signify?"
"Well, the dove traditionally symbolizes peace
and love. But it's also a symbol of the spirit
and soul. A dove in flight is free, yet it's on a
journey: a search for something bigger and
greater than itself. It's flying but very much
tied to everything it believes in."
"That's kind of a nice sentiment for this time of
the year. I approve of your choice," he said.
Mulder stopped unwrapping, and looked at her. His
look was one of pure curiosity. It almost made
her uncomfortable. Whatever he was about to ask
was not going to be easy to answer.
"Scully, why did you invite me here? I mean, I'm
not objecting but why now? You've done this on
your own for years. You've hired burly boys with
no shirts to pound your tree. You don't exactly
need me. You've been taking care of all this
holiday stuff yourself for a long time."
Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to answer. Not if
she shut off her internal censors and stuck to
the facts. "Yes, but I realized I don't have to.
I told someone once that loneliness is a choice.
And maybe it's not the right choice for me
anymore. I mean, last year, I think what I
learned from our 'ghostly' encounter was I did
want to be with you. Maybe even *needed* to be
with you that evening. We never have the
opportunity to celebrate holidays with each
other. We're either working, or I'm out with my
family--and that's important to me. But if I were
going to be completely truthful, I would want to
spend the holidays with you. So, if we can't do
it on the day itself, I thought we'd have a mini-
celebration a little early. Besides," she said
with a small smirk, "the naked boys you talked
about were not available this year."
Mulder got up and walked over to the tree. "Tell
me where you want these to go," he said as he
picked up a couple of ornaments.
They worked steadily and, once again, fairly
silently for the next hour. After every ornament
was placed on the tree, Scully brought out a tray
holding a plate of cookies and large mugs of hot
chocolate garnished with peppermint sticks. She
replaced the overhead lights with those on the
tree, and sat next to Mulder on her couch,
watching in amusement as he stared at the stick.
"You use it to stir the chocolate, Mulder. It
gives off a light taste of mint."
"I figured as much," he said, giving the mixture
a perfunctionary stir.
Scully removed her own peppermint stick out of
her drink and licked off the chocolate before
putting it down on the tray. Mulder watched her
and followed suit, smiling a bit as he took his
time completing his task. He laughed softly as he
put the stick on the tray. "Actually, one of my
videos began this way. That was pretty much the
entire plot with 'mmmmmm' being the only
dialogue. It was from the Holiday Classics
Collection."
Scully laughed in response.
He leaned back against the cushions and took a
sip of hot chocolate. The playfulness of the
moment before disappeared and the silence
stretched out until it was almost uncomfortable.
Scully would have sighed but didn't want to draw
any more attention to their awkward situation.
They didn't do casual moments well and they
certainly didn't do lighthearted celebratory
moments at all. Well, not planned ones, anyway.
She put down her drink and sat looking at it for
a moment. Should she say something that gave him
'permission' to leave early? She glanced at
Mulder. His cup was on a side table and he was
staring intently at the tree. He suddenly turned
toward her.
"You tree of life is very full, Scully. But the
stories behind a lot of what's up there just
bring back sad memories. I know they are part of
life but in your season of ho-ho-ho-ing, I'm not
sure they'll get you in the right spirit."
"If I took off everything that reminded me of
something sad, I'd have to go out and buy those
practical ornaments you spoke of, or sit here
with an empty tree. No?"
"I guess. Life is kind of cruel that way, isn't
it? The older you get, the more even the happy
times are tinged with the bittersweet."
"Yes."
Great. Perhaps that double suicide their ghostly
friends were trying to talk them into last year
was one year early.
"Scully?"
She looked at him again. She had spent quite a
few moments looking down during the last half-
hour or so. "What?"
"If it was in my power at all . . . " he trailed
off and looked down. When he looked up, there was
pure, and yet very complicated, emotion in his
eyes. "Well, you know what I'd wish for you."
She smiled. She wished him the same: a tree full
of happiness with the sad or bittersweet just
silent counterpoints in the background.
Scully moved closer to him. There was one way of
dispelling the darkness. She had thought of it
often, especially during the past few months. It
was one moment of happiness she no longer wanted
to deny herself. She stood up, sat back down on
the couch on her haunches, and put her left arm
on his right shoulder and turned him to her. Then
she slid her arms around his neck and moved even
closer to him. She almost laughed at the
expression on his face. It was that shocked look
she was pretty sure she had worn almost a year
and a half before. A moment in time in his
hallway that was a mixture of welcome surprise,
exquisitely sweet anticipation, tinged with a bit
of fear. They were thinkers. That was their
problem. No moment went un-contemplated.
She looked up at the ceiling. "Mistletoe," she
said, hoping a simple explanation would stop his
thought process.
But he needed proof. He looked up. "There isn't
any . . ."
"Must have fallen," she said and then kissed him
before he could think of anything else to say to
delay the moment. She kissed him with a soft,
sweet press of her lips against his. She locked
her arms behind his neck to keep his face close
and felt his hands grab her waist and his fingers
softly press into her sides. She moved her head
back after that first long kiss and moved back in
for another. This time, her lips were slightly
parted and he took full advantage of it. She knew
he would. She wanted him to.
She stood up on her knees and he wrapped his arms
around her waist, both still locked at the lips,
tasting chocolate and mint and the sweet
victorious fulfillment of a thousand separate
moments of yearning. But this wasn't about total
fulfillment. They weren't ready for that. Not
yet, anyway. She pulled away and rested her head
against his cheek. She felt his soft lips move
over to her neck and softly nip at the skin
there. His grip on her had loosened. He
understood.
She looked at the tree. "Mulder?"
"Hmmmm?"
"Look at the tree."
He reluctantly lifted his head from her skin and
looked. She saw the lights reflecting off the
light in his eyes and saw a small smile reach
every portion of his face. "It seems brighter,
somehow."
"That's what I thought, too."
"Maybe we're looking at things from a different
perspective," he mused.
"Maybe. Or maybe it's just a power surge."
"I told you you're a practical woman," he sighed.
"I really should go."
"Yes. If you don't, I might just forget I'm a
lady," she teased.
He narrowed his eyes and looked down at the tray.
"I'm pretty sure I could do a mean reenactment of
the peppermint stick scene from my movie."
She laughed and went over to the closet. In a
moment, she helped him into his jacket.
"Thank you for helping me with the tree, Mulder."
"Thank you for asking me."
They stood by the door and he leaned down and
gave her one more kiss. One more kiss to brand
her lips with his softness. When they pulled away
from each other, she looked up over her door.
"More phantom mistletoe?"
"Yes. I see it, don't you?"
"Me? I don't need proof. If you believe it, it's
good enough for me."
"Where is a tape recorder when you need it most?"
He said and started walking backwards down her
hallway. At the stairwell, he gave her a goofy
little grin and was gone.
Scully walked over to her tree. It was a life. A
life in all its colors and hues, all its memories
and moods, all its laughter and sorrow.
And all its dreams.
She touched her newest ornament and the dove
swung on the branch. She was free to fly as high
as any being could and yet had a purpose to her
flight. And she had a partner to soar the deep
blue skies and starlit nights with.
It was a life that, in spite of everything, was
good; a life that made a lovely tree.
One hour later
The hallway outside of Apartment 42
Mulder stopped in the middle of the hallway on
his floor. He softly touched his lips and smiled.
It took a year or so but the actions started so
long before had been completed. And the wonderful
part was, it was just the beginning. And the
really wonderful part was, if it was just a
'holiday greeting' type of thing, New Year's Eve
was just around the corner. And, hell, it wasn't
just a run of the mill New Year's Eve. It was the
turn of the century, the dawn of a new
millennium. That was worth another kiss or
thousand kisses.
At least.
He reached into his pocket to get his key. He
felt something there; something small and square.
He pulled out the box and opened it. Inside was
an ornament matching the one Scully had bought.
He noticed his fingers shake slightly as he
unfolded the tiny note tucked inside. "This can
mean whatever you want it to, Mulder. I'm either
giving you my soul, my dreams or simply a
porcelain dove to signify my wish for world
peace. Whichever way you interpret it, it's a
gift given with love. Scully."
It was a gift received in the same way. And a
gift he would wrap in phantom gossamer and keep
safe, protected and very, very cherished.
The end.
(
geocities.com/xmas_files)