TITLE: HAPPY CHRISTMAS, YOUR ARSE (1 of 1)
AUTHOR: DAVID HEARNE
CLASSIFICATION: Post-ep for "How the Ghosts Stole Christmas," Holiday Fic
RATING: R
DISTRIBUTION: Can go anywhere without my permission
SPOILERS: How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, Christmas Carol/ Emily
Send feedback to ottercrk@sover.net
Website is located at http://members.dencity.com/hearne
DISCLAIMER: "The X-Files" belongs to Chris Carter. "Fairytale of New York"
belongs to The Pogues. And that one line about "starting out with nothing"
belongs to Rusty Dewees.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The snow seemed to turn gray just by touching the bar. A string of electric
lights around the front window looked as out-of-place as a yellow smiley
button on an AIDS patient. Time had almost destroyed the wooden sign
declaring "THEO'S PLACE." Any second, it would fall on the head of a person
entering the bar. Through the window, clouds of cigarette smoke could be
seen and almost smelt.
"This is it," Agent Fox Mulder said.
"This?"
"Yep."
"This is where you spend your Christmas nights?"
"It's my tradition, Scully. Other people sing carols or watch 'It's A
Wonderful Life.' I go to Theo's."
"And just how long has this been a tradition?" Agent Dana Scully inquired.
"Six years tonight. That is, provided I go into there. And I won't go into
there without you."
Scully looked at Mulder. She looked at the bar. She looked around at the
whole neighborhood -- a dark, run-down section of Washington, D.C. 'Theo's
Place' was the only building with the lights on.
"Why?" she asked. "Do you need back-up?"
"I need...I would like you to know with whom I spend Christmas."
Scully tapped her fingers on her knees. Then she said, "All right."
The two FBI agents got out of the car, made sure it was locked, then entered
the bar.
"...and Fred coughs up this big bloody condom right into the cop's face!"
This was the apparent punchline of a joke being told by the white bartender.
He had a long pony-tail which was comprised of more hair than the amount
existing on the top of his head. A curly beard encircled his smiling lips
and blue-tinted glasses were perched on his nose. He wore a tie-dyed shirt
with only one sleeve occupied.
The five people seated at the counter were laughing. When the bartender saw
the new customers and cried out Mulder's name, the five people turned to the
door.
The closest person to the door was a black woman wearing a short purple
skirt, a low-cut pink sweater, tremendously high heels, and fishnet
stockings. She looked a little too old to be wearing that. The younger white
woman next to her wore a similar outfit and looked somewhat less trashy in
it, but she seemed a little too masculine to be wearing any kind of skirt.
The middle person was a black male teen with a white handkerchief tied
around his head. Scully caught a gleam of metal under his Raiders jacket.
The fourth person was an elderly black man. His tall, thin body was topped
with salt-and-pepper-colored hair resembling a wire brush. His brown clothes
had wrinkles which would never be let go and mud stains which would never
wash away.
The fifth person wore better tailored clothes, but they were misused and
stained with vomit. This fortyish white male had a glass stuck in his hand.
Mulder smiled at every one of them and said, "Hey, guys. Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas!" the gang cheered back.
"Yo, check it out!" the black teen said. "FBI got a lady friend!"
"Oh, my goodness!" the suspicious-looking woman said in a deep voice. 'She'
pressed 'her' hands against 'her' cheeks and widened 'her' mouth. "Has our
boy grown up into a man?"
"It depends on where he met her," the older woman said, taking a careful
look at Scully's clothes.
"Yeah, where did you meet the lady, Mulder?" the one-armed bartender asked.
"That's no lady," Mulder replied. "She's my partner."
The bartender and his five customers looked briefly at each other, then back
at Scully. Their eyes covered her with discomfort.
"*This* is Agent Scully?" the bartender asked.
"So you weren't making her up," the older woman said.
"Of course I wasn't," Mulder said. "Why would you think otherwise?"
"Mulder, you've showed signs of a very active imagination from the day I met
you."
"Well, let me prove Scully's reality once and for all. Scully, this is Glenn
Keller."
Putting on her best friendly face, Scully held out a hand and said, "Hello."
Glenn shook Scully's hand, giving her a very cool look. Noticing the look,
Scully said, "Is something wrong?"
Glenn smiled and pressed her other hand into the handshake. "It's not you,
honey. I was just thinking that I would be doing a lot better right now if I
looked half as good as you do."
"Uh, thanks."
Mulder gave Scully a little nudge, pushing her over to the next stool. "And
this is Angie Faithful. Of course, that won't be official until she gets the
final operation."
Looking Mulder straight in the eye (and this was easy to do since they
almost had the same height), Angie said, "Fox, I will always be the woman of
your dreams, no matter what I'm carrying in my panties." Then she gave
Scully a brilliant smile and grabbed her hand. "Oh, sweet Mother Mary
Matalin, I can't believe this. I'm actually meeting Dana Scully!"
"I'm...having trouble believing it, too." Scully said as she shook hands
with Angie.
"This lad over here is John Bronson," Mulder informed Scully as he prodded
her to the next stool.
"Yo, wazzup, Miss S?" the black youth declared.
"Hello," Scully replied. "You must be an electrician."
"Huh?"
"I'm assume that's the reason why you're carrying a screwdriver in your
jacket."
Still smiling, John said, "Ah, no, I steal car stereos."
"And right over here is Howard Stark."
The elderly black man stood up with such a quick, awkward lunge that he
almost knocked over Scully. With a wide grin, he said, "I-I-I'm very
g-g-g-glad to m-meet..."
He suddenly sucked in his breath. His lips tightened as his throat muscles
pulled under his grainy skin. John was about to slap Howard on the back when
the old man bent over and opened his mouth. After a shuddering cough, a
chunk of mucus as big as a silver dollar fell to the tiled floor, right at
Scully's feet.
One second went by with everyone's attention focused on that big brown
loogie splattered in front of Scully's shoes.
Then she looked up and said, "Mr. Stark, when was the last time you had a
medical examination?"
"Uh...I...I can't q-quite recall..."
"Before you leave this bar, I want to have a look at you. Okay?"
"Th-that's v-v-very nice of you, A-g-g-gent Scully..."
"Call me Dana," Scully said and smiled back.
With his own smile on his face, Mulder directed Scully to the next person on
the tour. "And we have Patrick Vierling."
"How d'you do?" Patrick greeted Scully with breath reeking of enough alcohol
fumes to kill a nation of cockroaches.
"Patrick is a lobbyist with the AARP."
A sour look pinched up Patrick's face. "Goddamn motherfucking senior
citizens. Can't give enough of anything to those bingo-playing assholes.
Always wanting more, more, more..."
"Yeah, we've heard it, Patrick," the bartender said.
"Always more," Patrick grumbled as he lifted his glass to his lips.
"Finally we have the master of ceremonies," Mulder said. "Theo himself."
"Merry Christmas, Scully," the bartender said, raising two fingers on his
one hand in a V-shape.
"Theo opened this bar ten years ago. That's about the time you stopped
dealing drugs, right, Theo?"
"That's right, man. I only do the legitimate stuff now. Speaking of which,
sit down and have one, Scully."
This would have been a good time for Scully to say "Hell, no" and run to the
car. Instead she sat on one of the remaining stools. Mulder sat down next to
her.
"Whiskey all right for you?" Theo suggested.
Whiskey on Christmas night? Sure, why not? "That'll be fine," Scully said.
"So," Theo said as he poured whiskey into two small glasses. "you're the one
who has been working with Mulder for the past six years."
"That's me. And I have a feeling you know a lot about our experiences
together."
"Well..." Theo turned to the others.
"Are you implying that Fox has told stories out of school?" Angie inquired.
"I'm just wondering what kind of impression Mulder gave you."
"Nuttin' but good," John assured her. "Mulder say he glad to have you for a
partner."
Scully looked at Mulder. He smiled and spread out his hands.
"He did say you're stubborn as all hell," Patrick mumbled.
"Hey!" Mulder snapped.
"Come on, man," Theo said.
"Don't make me take you outside, Pat," Glenn warned.
"Well, did he or did he not say words to that effect?" Patrick said in a
rising voice.
"Yeah, but you don't have to say them, too," Theo told him.
"It's all right," Scully said. "Mulder kind of says this to my face as
well."
Mulder looked away from her, embarrassed.
"According to him," Scully continued. "I've not been as accepting of certain
'extreme possibilites' as I should have been."
"You mean, all that crap about flying saucers," Glenn said. "I hear you
where you're coming from."
Mulder quickly turned his head back. "Now just a minute. Scully will also
tell you that she's become a lot more open to believing such things. Right,
Scully?"
"Uh..." Scully said.
"Is it true, then?" John said. "All that crazy shit about flyin' saucers and
alien abductions?"
All eyes were focused on Scully, including Mulder's.
Her face was expressionless for a moment.
Then she smiled and lifted her glass of whiskey. "Come on, guys. It's
Christmas. Let's not talk shop."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
As the evening went on, Theo explained how this group came to meet at his
bar every Christmas.
"It was Glenn and Mulder who were the 'original members.' They were my only
customers on this day six years ago. Now I'm trying to remember -- why were
you here, Glenn?"
"Because I wanted to leave my fucking apartment and this was the only place
that was open," Glenn said, lighting up a cigarette. Her voice was more
straightforward than bitter.
"That's...kind of the same reason for me," Mulder said. "Why were you even
open, Theo?"
Theo smiled. "Same reasons, man. Anyway we ended up talking and...didn't you
try to pick up Mulder for a date, Glenn?"
"I wasn't hooking then," Glenn said.
"She tried to pick me up next year after that," Mulder reminded Theo.
"That's right, that's right. Anyway, we ended up making a promise to see
each other next Christmas. We were all kind of smashed at the time..."
"But we ended up having a reunion anyway," Glenn said. "Kind of amazing,
really. That's when we were joined by Howard. Right, Howard?"
"Wh-what?" Howard had been staring at his glass of bourbon.
"1994. That's when you became part of our Christmas group, right?"
"Was it?"
"I'm pretty confident of it."
Howard nodded as if that was good enough for him. He took a long sip of
bourbon.
"Angie and Patrick both joined us in 1995," Theo said.
"Thass right," Patrick said, his head bobbing. "Me and the queer came in
together."
"And do you remember what you and the queer were even doing together in the
first place?" Angie replied in light tones.
Before Patrick could ransack his memory, Angie spread out her arms and
declared, "I remember that time well. I strode in with a drunken lobbyist as
full of self-hate as I was full of self-love. And why shouldn't I love
myself? Every year, I grow more and more beautiful..."
"Thanks to heavy doses of injected estrogen," Glenn reminded her.
"It's the nineties, girlfriend." Angie squeezed her breasts. "These are as
good as any natural product and a lot more durable. Now all I have to do is
save up enough pennies to get myself fixed south of the border. Then Fox can
finally lose his virginity to me. Isn't that right, Fox?"
"Really?" Mulder said. "I think it would be the other way around."
"Oh, ho, ho! Not on your life, sweetpea. I am as impure as the cocaine sold
in D.C. In fact, I know the name of a certain Baptist preacher..."
"Anyway," Mulder said. "1995 marked Angie and Patrick's entrance into our
group. 1996 brought John over here."
"Uh-huh," John said. "I come here 'coz of *my* family's Christmas
tradition -- gettin' drunk-ass and then wailin' on everythin' that moves. I
lay down low here and wait for them to wear themselves out."
"I do hope you're not continuing your family's tradition here," Scully said.
John snorted. "No way. I wouldn't drink even if Theo let me. I seen what
that shit can do, know what I'm sayin'?"
"Indeed," Mulder said. "Of course, we're leaving somebody out. 1994 is also
when Wayne joined up. Where is Wayne, anyway?"
A lot of looks were exchanged -- nervous, uncomfortable looks. Mulder's
stomach tightened. "What happened?" he asked.
"Wayne died last year," Theo said quietly.
"Jesus. How did...?" Mulder shook his head. "Dumb question."
"He was a junkie," John said. "Was gonna happen sooner or later. He died
right here."
"What?"
"It's true," Glenn said. "His heart just stopped. He fell to the floor and
didn't get up."
"Wait a minute. You mean, it happened last Christmas?"
"M-hm. You had left about a half-hour before and...well, there you are."
"For God's sake, why didn't anybody call me?"
"We tried to, man," Theo said. "We couldn't reach you at your apartment."
Mulder slowly turned to Scully. Only they knew why Mulder hadn't been at his
apartment. Theo must have called there after Mulder had heard the message on
his answering machine; the one left by Scully; the strange one where she
sounded close to tears.
Mulder looked away from the memory to be seen in Scully's eyes. He lifted up
his glass.
"To everyone we lost," he said.
Everybody raised a glass as well, except for Scully.
Then, after a moment's hesitation, she lifted her glass as well.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A hour later, Scully was sitting next to Glenn and Angie. Patrick's head was
resting on the counter. Howard was swaying slightly, his eyes looking in no
particuarly direction. John and Mulder were checking out the jukebox in the
corner. Theo was cleaning a glass with surprising adeptness, considering he
only had one hand.
"I've done a lot of jobs over the past ten years," Glenn said. "'Ho is the
one I keep comin' back to. And damn if I'm not back to it by the end of this
year."
"That's why I keep telling you to come work with me, you silly thing," Angie
said.
"Girl, I could never do that phone sex shit. Talking dirty and all that."
"Oh, but you can spread your legs and let a bunch of perverts play with your
pussy for a half-hour, right?"
"Well, anybody can do that, Angie. But knowing the right things to
say...that's different. Besides, I can't do that sexy phone voice of yours."
Angie chuckled. "Oh, that's the truth. I could make an eunuch come..." Then
Angie looked at Scully and said, "Oh, my stars and garters! Here we are,
talking of our seedy ways to an FBI agent!"
"It's fine," Scully said with a smile.
"Well, I'm sure you've heard enough about the dregs of society. Tell us both
about life among the legit."
"Actually, Mulder and I...well, our territory is a gray area. Our own
superiors treat us like criminals sometimes." Scully paused, then said, "And
I occasionally wonder if we are."
"Really?" Glenn said, offering Scully and Angie each a cigarette. At first,
Scully wanted to decline, but she decided to take it anyway. (The three
glasses of whiskey she had previously imbibed were probably an influence on
her decision.)
"Mulder has told me about your work difficulties," Glenn said as she lit up
the cigarettes sticking from the mouths of the three women. "I'm not sure
about how much of what I've heard is true..."
"Probably most of it," Scully said, blowing a cloud of smoke. Jeez, she
thought as the flavor of tobacco rested on her tongue. That feels remarkably
good.
"You mean, this whole conspiracy..."
"Oh, I don't want to hear what the boring ol' government is doing!" Angie
insisted. "I want to know if Scully has gotten into Mulder's pants!"
Scully looked at the transsexual and said, "No."
"Have you ever been tempted?"
"No."
"Oh, come on..."
"I've seen Mulder naked. His dick is way too small for me."
Angie and Glenn looked at Scully in astonishment.
Then Scully's deadpan face cracked into a smile. The prostitute and the
transsexual broke out laughing. "Oh, God forgive us!" Angie cried out.
"We've corrupted a good Catholic girl!"
Back at the jukebox, John shook his head and turned to Theo. "Yo, Theo! When
you gonna put some good music on this jukebox?"
"There is good music," the one-armed bartender replied. "We've got The
Beatles, The Stones, CCR..."
"I mean, sumptin' up to date. DMX, Jay-Z..."
"I take it those two are rappers."
"'Course."
"No way, man. That stuff is garbage."
"That's what they used to say 'bout The Stones. C'mon, man..."
"A-ha!" Mulder declared. "The perfect song." He deposited a quarter into the
slot.
Upon hearing a string section, Scully turned to Mulder and shouted out, "Oh,
no, Mulder, not that one!"
"You know this song, Scully?"
Before she could answer, a raspy and slurred voice rose from the jukebox.
"It was Christmas Eve, babe/ In the drunk tank/ An old man said to me, won't
see another one..."
John made a face and said, "Who the hell is that?"
"Shane MacGowan."
"Shit, he sings like Patrick."
"Please, Mulder," Scully said. "Turn it off."
"You don't like this song?
"Mulder, when I was back at Quantico Academy, they used to play this song
all the damn time around December. I've heard it enough."
Mulder looked at Scully from his distant spot and said, "Well, you're gonna
hear it one more time, Scully. You know what else you're going to do?"
Scully sighed. "What?"
"You're going to dance with me."
Everybody except Patrick watched Scully as she stared at Mulder for a long,
long moment.
Then she snubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray. As she walked across the
tiled floor to Mulder, Shane MacGowan croaked, "So Merry Christmas/ I love
you, baby/ I can see a better time/ When all our dreams come true."
Scully placed her hands against Mulder's sides. He reached around to her
back.
The music picked up the pace, fiddles and penny whistles jumped in, and a
new voice sang on the track -- a clear, pure female voice. "They've got
cars/ Big as bars/ They've got rivers of gold/ But the wind goes/ Right
through you/ It's no place for the old..."
Patrick lifted his head and blinked his eyes at the dancing couple.
"When you first took my hand/ On a cold Christmas eve/ You promised me/
Broadway was waiting for me/ You were handsome..."
"You were pretty," Mulder interrupted. Actually, it was the cracked male
voice who interrupted, but Mulder was lip-syncing the voice to Scully's
face. "Queen of New York City/ When the band finished playing/ They howled
out for more."
He stopped 'singing' when the female voice returned. He looked at Scully in
expectation. It took her a few reluctant moments, but she opened her mouth
and lip-synced, "We kissed on a corner/ Then danced through the night."
The chorus came up. Neither of them sang it. Instead, Mulder said, "Here
comes the 'good bit,' Scully. Are you ready for it?"
"Yeah," Scully said. "I'm ready for it."
When the female voice kicked it, she leaned forward, looked Mulder in the
eyes and 'sang' --
"You're a bum/ You're a punk..."
To which Mulder responded --
"You're an old slut on junk/ Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed."
Scully replied, "You scum bag/ You maggot/ You cheap lousy faggot/ Happy
Christmas, your arse/ I pray God it's our last."
Neither of them blinked or lost the beat as they directed these insults at
each other. Their faces managed to be grim and amused at the same time.
"Oh, my," Angie said upon observing this.
"Hey, this song is not fit for young ears," John observed.
The chorus repeated itself and was followed a brief moment when the strings
played the melody. Then Mulder looked up at the ceiling and 'sang,' "I could
have been someone..."
Scully reached up and pulled his head back down by the chin. "Well, so could
anyone," she 'sang' to his face. "You took my dreams from me/ When I first
found you."
Mulder finally grinned. "I kept them with me, babe/I put them with my own."
He leaned forward and touched his forehead to Scully's. "Can't make it all
alone/ I've built my dreams around you."
And now Scully was smiling. When the song reached the chorus for the final
time, they sang along for real this time. In fact, everybody in Theo's Place
sang the chorus in cracked, toneless voices.
"The boys of the NYPD choir/ Were singing 'Galway Bay'/ And the bells were
ringing out/ For Christmas Day."
The rest of the song was just the strings playing. Mulder and Scully danced
to the end, foreheads touching.
When it was done, Patrick began to sob. "That was beautiful, just
beautiful..."
Glenn rolled her eyes at him and said, "You are such a pussy."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
As the others played games with spoons and glasses at the counter, Scully
was examining Howard in the bathroom.
"Hmmm," she said after she was done.
"Wh-what is it?"
She reached into her pocket, pulled out a notebook, and wrote down an
address. "This is the name of one of my friends. He offers free medical
care. I want you to go see him."
"Ah...th-thank y-y-you very m-m-much..."
"It's no problem," Scully said as she tore off the note and handed it to
Howard. "You just promise me..."
"I have a daughter."
Scully didn't say anything. Howard's mind had simply jumped tracks and there
was no point in being confused by the change.
"She l-l-lives h-here in D.C. She don't th-th-th-think a lot of m-m-m-me.
I...I...I don't blame her. Look at
m-m-me..."
"Howard, listen to me."
Howard's weak eyes focused on Scully.
"She's your daughter. You are her father. That means something. That will
always mean something. Whatever she might have said to you, she can't change
who you are. I think...she needs you a bit more than she might say."
"You think so?"
Scully nodded. "Promise me you'll try to see her. Try to talk with her."
"I w-will. I promise."
Back at the counter, a spoon spun through the air and landed neatly into a
glass. "Motherfuck!" John exclaimed. "Mulder always wins!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
John was the first to leave. ("Gots to see if the folks have set the
apartment on fire, know what I'm sayin'?") Angie and Glenn then wrapped
thick coats around their flimsy clothes. "Good-bye, darlings!" Angie
declared. "May you survive the next 365 days without me!"
Just before she left, Glenn looked at Mulder, then turned to Scully and
winked.
Scully winked back.
A cab was summoned to pick up Patrick. He left Theo's Place mumbling about
"goddamn worthless old carcasses" and "Soylent Green." Mulder also paid the
cab driver to take Howard to the nearest shelter.
"M-m-merry Christmas," Howard said. "I'll remem-b-b-ber what you s-s-said,
D-Dana."
"What did you say to him?" Mulder asked Scully as the cab drove off.
"Just a little thing about family," she said.
Twenty minutes later, Theo said, "Well, folks, I think it's time we closed
up."
"Yeah," Mulder said. "We need to get going. I don't want to leave the car
out there too long. I bet you John is going to come back for the stereo."
As the two agents prepared to go, Theo said, "So what did you think of our
Loser's Christmas Special, Agent Scully?"
"Is that what you think of yourself as being? A loser?"
Theo considered her question for a few seconds, then said, "After I lost the
arm in 'Nam, I went through a long period of self-pity and loathing.
Becoming a drug dealer was just a capstone to a lot of sordid experiences I
deliberately put myself through. Nowadays, I feel a lot better about myself.
I'm still a loser, but a proud loser."
"What's a proud loser?"
"Let me put it this way. I started out with nothing." Theo grinned. "I've
kept most of it."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Well, that's how I spend Christmas," Mulder said as he drove himself and
Scully away from Theo's Place. "I'm not asking you to come back next year,
but..."
"I'll come."
"Really?"
She smiled at him. "Really."
"Are you accepting your position among the losers?"
Instead of answering that question, Scully asked this one. "Why did you
choose to take me to Theo's this year?"
"Well...I figured that after what we saw..."
Scully gave him a look.
"After what we *thought* we saw at that mansion, I thought -- well, we ought
to go somewhere to feel good. And Theo's always makes me feel good. I don't
know why."
"Well, I do feel good. I don't know why, either."
"Maybe because they're more pathetic than we are?"
"I wouldn't go that far, Mulder."
"Hm. Then what is it?"
"Maybe because...it's nice to know Christmas can fulfill its promise. That
it can be the one day where anybody can have a bit of happiness and
togetherness."
Neither one of the agents spoke for a minute. The only sounds in the car
were the breathing of the heater and the squeak of the wipers.
Then Mulder said, "Happy Christmas, Scully."
"Your arse," she replied.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Merry Christmas to all of you. But keep your fucking carolers
away from me. I have boiling cauldrons of pudding and a gun which fires
stakes of holly.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX