"It's not that, Mulder, it's just—" Scully turned the
freshly-unwrapped object over and over in her hands, trying
to figure out just how to respond. "It's a—a—"
"It has two speeds, see?" Mulder took it away from
her, and switched it on. It started a low rumbling. "And less
noise. The salesman said—"
"Mulder, it's a vibrator."
"Well, I sort of didn't even think about it being
Christmas until last night, and the only place open was the
Sex Shack. It was either that or edible underwear. And the
underwear seemed a little—personal."
"But a vibrator isn't?"
"Depends on what you use it for." He grinned at her,
pleased that she hadn't hit him with it. It looked like it would
hurt, especially if wielded with the sort of accuracy he
knew his partner was capable of, in a bad mood.
"Good point."
"So you like it?"
"Well—" She looked back and forth from his hopeful
face to the neon-green monster in her hands. It was just so
- Mulder. "Yeah, I like it. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"You can open mine, too."
He picked up a rectangular package from the coffee
table, and started ripping the paper open.
"Uh, Mulder—"
He had the paper on the floor and the box open before
she could say another word. He was even more nonplussed
than she had been. "Scully—you shouldn't have." He
sounded as if he meant it. "Really."
They both looked at the pastel-pink gift, lying stark and
unavoidable in the white tissue-paper-filled box. Scully went
a little pink herself, while Mulder was turning a shade of
green not far off from the vibrator's.
Finally, one of them had to speak. "Edible underwear?"
"Mulder—"
"Um, Scully, there's probably something that I should
tell you—"
"Mulder, really—"
"I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it. We've
been partners—friends—for five years. I'm closer to you
than almost anyone—probably closer than anyone in my life.
But I'm—"
She thought she might have to pull her gun on him.
Again. "Mulder, I didn't get you that."
He stopped. "What?"
She handed him a similar small gift-wrapped box. "I
got you this. I don't know who got you that."
He looked around, on the floor, sorting through the
wrapping paper. "There's no card."
"Are you holding out on me?" she asked, a smirk on
her face.
He flushed, and started to unwrap the gift she had
gotten him. "Oh, Scully—tube socks! Thanks."
"They'll go with your new 'look'," she said, kissing him
on the cheek. "I should probably get back home. The folks
will be up soon."
He nodded.
"You want to come? There'll be a lot of food, and
plenty of room—"
"Nah, I don't think so. But thanks anyway."
She got up and he walked her to the door. "Merry
Christmas, Mulder."
"Oh, don't forget—" He retrieved her gift.
"I should have brought a purse," she said, stuffing the
vibrator into her pocket. The top of it stuck out a couple of
inches, but it wasn't too obvious. Hopefully she'd be able
to stash it somewhere before her mother saw it—
"Merry Christmas, Scully."
He'd just taken his leather jacket off and settled back down
on the couch, new tube socks on his feet, tv set to the first
showing of "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians" on the
SciFi Channel, when there was another knock at the door.
"I didn't buy extra batteries, Scully," he called out
before opening it. "If you run out, you'll just have to wait until
Radio Shack is open tomor—"
He was thrown back against the wall, hands twisted
behind his back, door kicked closed, mouth assailed by a
set of lush lips, face-to-face with some very familiar
long-lashed green eyes. He closed his eyes and kissed
back, trying to remember where he'd left his gun. Probably
in the bathroom.
Finally they moved, still kissing, into the living room.
Alex backed him up to the couch and fell on top of him,
attacking his clothing, ripping the white t-shirt up the front.
"Nice. Better than the suits, Mulder." Before he could
remove anything else, Alex turned his head towards the tv
and grinned, then spied the open box on the coffee table.
"Ah," he said, plucking out the peach-flavoured underwear,
"you got my little gift..."
The End
Season's Greetings
by Mona Ramsey
"You don't like it. I can take it back if you don't like it."
Mulder patted his pockets down. "I'm sure I have the receipt
somewhere—"
Mulder nodded.
"A green vibrator."
"You don't like green."
"No, no, I like green. I'm just a little curious—why
exactly did you get me a—" she paused, mentally calculating
"—nine-inch, green vibrator for Christmas?"
