Title: Happy Turkey Trot
Category: M, S, UST, Mulder/Scully torture, post-Ep. Spoilers: The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas Summary: Scully never did make it to the family roll call, and here's why.
Archive: Gossamer, any other nice home. I'll chill the wine and come visit.
Disclaimers: Thje original series, title, and story belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. So do the Characters. I hurt them this time, darn me!
It had to happen this year. Finally, Mulder and Scully were spending Christmas together, and wouldn't Bill Scully just want to take a nice, sharp carving knife to his sister's partner. Just because they all knew she was enamored of the man from the moment she saw him, and seemed to fly whenever his name was mentioned.
Yes, there they were. At Mulder's apartment. On Christmas Day.
Surely the ghost things hadn't happened, and it was all a dream, really, caused by a combination of office parties, work-related fatigue, and kissing up to Kersh and Skinner. Maybe there had been those "Christmas Carol" and "It's A Wonderful Life" movies advertised and shown ad nauseum all month long. And the continuous carold blasting throughout the malls, coffee shops, and even variety stores.
However they believed they arrived at this situation, they were, indeed, destined to spend this Christmas t-o-g-e-t-h-e-r-. Fate. That's all she wrote.
After having driven back to Mulder's apartment for a reality check and a presentation of a present, Dana Katherine Scully was still there in the early morning hours. She had fallen asleep on his couch, of course, but she had not made morning roll call at brother Bill's home. She called him to say that the falling snow was just too much of a risk with all of those drunken Washington jerks headed out on the road. Maybe Boxing Day. As fate would have it, she awoke as the last of the flakes were falling in Alexandria, and the couch really wasn't all that bad a place to be: For right above her sleepy little head was Fox Mulder, head cocked off to one side, slumped against the couch. His thighs were firm, yet relaxed enough to be comfortable.
Scully awoke slowly and tried to stretch the kinks out of her shoulders. "Hey, Mulder... "
"Hey, Scully," he drowsily whispered. "Merry Christmas."
"Sorry I fell asleep on you... "
"Well, after all that whatever it was last night, I couldn't blame you. Thanks for thinking of me this year."
"Well, I got to thinking about it, and thought, what the heck."
"Yeah, me too." He nodded knowingly. Faithful friends deserved gifts, and they both knew they were dear to each other. It was an unspoken yet understood thing.
"I bet you didn't get a turkey this year, did you?"
"Scully, I think you pretty well know how I spend Christmas."
"Well, I have one in my freezer, Mulder, at all times."
"You can do a lot with ground turkey, turkey legs, turkey breasts. But enough of that because I see the wheels turning in that testosteronebuzzed brain of yours. I want to make you a Christmas dinner with all the trimmings."
"Scully, say we're not driving out to your place in this weather," Mulder moaned.
"Well, no, Mulder. I had a perfectly frozen turkey at home. When I came back here last night, I left it out in the courtyard where no one would get it. And it will be safe to eat, since it's about 25 degrees out there. I can safely thaw it and it might be ready by about 9:00 tonight."
Mulder smiled warmly. "Amazing. And I thought I was the one who really didn't want to be alone for Christmas. You planned."
"No, I didn't, Mulder. But it was a series of happy coincidences."
"All right. The bachelor with the barest pantry in the state will let you have your way with his kitchen. But, be warned, I am not a complete minimalist where the necessities of life are concerned." One up for Mulder, or so he thought.
"Do you have bread?"
"That will do. Vegetables of any kind?"
"Okay. I think we can put together something. And Mulder?"
"No cracks about slicing and dicing."
"Roasting pan ain't been used in ten years."
Scully laughed. "Everyone knows that! Relax. I'll get things in gear."
It did take a few hours to ready the turkey for roasting. And it was true: Mulder's roasting pan hadn't been used for at least ten years, but Scully had him scrub it to her complete satisfaction, and wash it in hot, soapy water until well-sterilized.
Who cares if it was instant mashed potatoes they were in for tonight? This was Christmas, and they were living it up. Scully made gravy from scratch! Mulder didn't know she could cook, but he didn't dare say it. He marvelled at her dexterity with knives. It was kind of sad he couldn't once kiss a boo-boo better, but she was HERE!
"Bread, parsley flakes, onion powder, some margarine and we have stuffing," Scully called out from the kitchen, as Mulder had begun to watch another cartoon about "that red-nosed whatever" that had been running through his head since childhood.
"Real stuffung," Scully assured him, as she dried her hands with a tea towel. "Everything should be ready in about six hours or so. Nine tonight, as I said."
Mulder's eyes were watery, as he saw Rudolph finally fitting in with the other reindeer.
"What is it, Mulder?" She took a seat beside him on the couch. "All the reindeer loved him... "
"He was different Scully. And I'm different, sort of like him. I don't have a shiny red nose, but I've just never really fit in. You know? And I guess I just miss the old days back when I was a kid."
"Yes, and Samantha. And, I guess I just feel as though I've missed the boat in a lot of ways, Scully."
"Oh. Well, I think we've all felt that way. Look at me, Mulder. I am still running off to family roll call at my age? The other women around here just do the "Howdy-do-here's-your-stuff-folks thing and head home to be with their new families... oh, my! We are getting maudlin. Look, I have a few more things to check up on, and then we'll put on a comedy or something, okay?"
"That would be wise." Okay, so now I've bummed her out. Didn't want to do that to her. My best friend. "Forgive me, Scully?"
"For what?" she cheerfully asked.
"Being a wet blanket!"
"Go have a shower or jog or something. Feel good, Mulder! That is an order!"
"Tender," Mulder remarked. "It passes my requirements. And the stuffing tastes just like the store used to make it... I mean that in a good way, Scully."
"I know. Saw the empty box in your garbage last Thanksgiving. So, you actually had a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. That was very thoughtful, Mulder. And devious."
"And a good year," he added.
"And a good year. So, you had a real turkey dinner and it didn't hurt a bit. Now, remember, you never need to be alone at Christmas. Next year... "
"Next year Bill could stab me right in the heart, but you'd be there to save me?" Mulder had a half-hearted grin on his face as he finished eating.
"No. He wouldn't do that. But he might protest, and Mom would tell him what to do with his protest, out of my ear-shot, and you'd be welcome. You really would. Mom was thinking about it this year, but I said to wait and see."
"Okay. Would you like some more wine?"
"Why not. I think we deserve it. Merry Christmas, partner."
"Merry Christmas, partner."
At midnight, a newscast was just winding up, and Scully was fast asleep on the couch, as Mulder looked out the window at the snowy street and the holiday lights. He didn't really feel that well, but he brushed his brow and chalked it up to the damp air around the haunted house the night before. That is, until he did the turkey trot. The dance one does straight to the bathroom, very, very fast with no step pattern but forward and down... down... down...
"Oh my God!" he hollered in agony, grabbing his belly which had just done more aerobics than the best instructor at the gym. "Scullly!"
"Coming!" She ran into the bathroom to find her partner hunched over in pain. Her nose told her the rest of the story. "Oh, no. No." She wet a washcloth and placed it on his face, gently cleaning it and checking his pulse with her other hand. "We'd better get you to the hospital. You are burning up."
"Yeah, I think I might like that, compared to the list of painful alternatives... "
Come to think of it, Scully was having a hot flush as her head began to pound. "Move over or get out of here, I think it's a toss up, and I think you need to hold your nose and close your eyes really..."
Well, all was not lost. They had each other. Even if it was in the Emergency Department, with complementary Boxing Day I.V. drips. With red bows tied to the poles. That might have actually been appreciated at another time and for other people.
"At least we're not alone," Scully drowsily mumbled through the partition. "And I AM sorry."
"And we both feel the same way, don't we? That's good, Scully... "
"Not fair, but good, Mulder."
"Not a word to the Bureau," Mulder whimpered.
"Never, never, never. Ditto to you, partner."
"Yeah, but at least we're together, Scully. Even if it kills us."
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