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.