Title: Home is Where… Author: Jaime Lyn Email: Leiaj@bellsouth.net Category: V, R Keywords: MSR/UST (Is ‘fluff’ a keyword??…) Rated: Totally ‘G’ Fluff… Spoilers: “How The Ghosts Stole Christmas,” but not much at all about it is mentioned, so if you haven’t seen it, don’t sweat. Chances are, you’ll get this. Disclaimer: I don’t own them. Sorry. I’m just borrowing them for a little while… Summary: What happened after Mulder and Scully opened their gifts? Archive: I’d love to see this on “Haven’s page, but if not, then anywhere, just email me and let me know!! I love to visit! ~X~ Author’s note: This is something I never thought I’d do… write a post episode story… I guess for some reason, I never thought I’d do that. But I was inspired (And in the holiday spirit too) so I sat down and wrote this. Also, I don’t know what Mulder and Scully REALLY gave each other. (Only CC knows that for sure, I guess) so this is my take. Enjoy and send feedback—I love feedback. Happy Holidays! ~X~ Geranium--- for 7 years we’ve been best friends. That’s a long time, huh? Even though we’re thousands of miles apart, you’ll always mean the most to me. This is for you. I’ll be home for Christmas. You can count on me… I’ll be home for Christmas. If only in my dreams… -------- “I’ll be home for Christmas” ~X~ Home Is Where… ~X~ By Jaime Lyn XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX She couldn’t even recall the exact moment she had made the decision to go. It just sort of… happened. But maybe it needed to… So needless to say, she had made the resolution, relenting, perhaps after sitting on her couch alone, saying to herself, “oh what the heck…” while spying his neatly wrapped present lying on her kitchen counter… But why, she half wondered, why---after an exhausting evening----exhausting putting it mildly, and interesting to say the least, why would she want to go to Mulder’s? Why would she want to be with him? The whole night had been HIS fault, after all… hadn’t it…? If he hadn’t have decided to steal her car keys… But was that really the point, she thought? Did it really matter now, now at 10 to 3 in the morning, whose fault that entire fiasco had been? No, she didn’t think so. So why had she felt so… Alone, perhaps? Was it fear of not having anyone? Of not having Mulder, right there with her, when she woke up surrounded by family? Happy family, with spouses and children and dogs and… At any rate, she had gone home, wishfully hoping for sleep, desperately needing to get her mind off of…things… But it didn’t work. For some reason, going home only made her feel worse. Standing in her empty apartment, in her lonely hallway, next to her always empty bed… it made her uneasy, restless. But most of all, it made her feel cold. Sad and alone. And suddenly, home stopped feeling like home to her. So maybe that had been it. ---Feeling like a stranger in her own home----in her own life. So it could have been that, an almost unsconcious effort, that had taken her there---to Mulder’s, when lord knows she should have been trying to sleep— getting ready for her good old-fashioned family Christmas. Empty apartment… empty rooms…. Empty bed… Something was missing there… So no, Scully hadn’t wanted to sleep. She had also discovered, somewhat ruefully, that a part of her hadn’t wanted to go to her mother’s, either. No, not after what had happened tonight. Not after that… haunting…or… whatever… Not only was her mind miles away… But trying to explain it to her family, why she looked and felt like a mac truck had hit her, was just not something she wanted to deal with. Nor was it something she was prepared to handle. She could even see the expression on her brother Bill’s face. The cadence in his voice when he would say, “It was that Mulder again, wasn’t Dana? That Bastard…” No thank you… So perhaps it was that---that and her desire, her sudden need for companionship- --for MULDER’S companionship actually, that suddenly took over. Maybe it seized hold of her, causing her to impulsively grab his Christmas gift, her keys, and her overcoat, and then rush out of her apartment, like a blizzard, and feeling just as cold…chilly mostly…as if she were missing something---something safe and warm. Something important. She had left feeling as if she were lacking something, something that was missing at her apartment—something she desperately needed to find. She had wanted to find it here…And maybe… just maybe she had… Because it was something that started to fill the moment Mulder opened his door. Something is different here, she had thought. She could feel it. It was something she had first noticed when she walked in---when she had crossed the threshold to his apartment. Something that she hadn’t noticed before tonight, for some reason. Something strange---or, no… not strange exactly, because strange was a word she would now reserve especially for their so –called “haunting” earlier. For their brush with…with whatever that was… Strange was the way she would have described ghosts and hallucinations on Christmas Eve… So no, this wasn’t “strange,” it was just… Different… comfortable in nature, familiar---but still markedly different. Or, at least, it was just something that felt somehow markedly different---better than her place, for some odd reason----her usual territory. But it wasn’t like any obvious physical difference, any aesthetic difference in décor, and it wasn’t the fact that his fish were so under-fed that they were probably holding picket signs… No. That wasn’t it. And it wasn’t even this… this PLACE either. It wasn’t the room. It wasn’t the surroundings. It was… the feeling. Yes. The feeling here was different. The air here was tinged with… something. She hadn’t quite been able to pinpoint what it was exactly that was different, what it was that made her feel so… so at home…yes. Yes, that was it, she supposed. She felt like she was home. But even that didn’t explain it completely. After all, it wasn’t his apartment that made her feel that way. It wasn’t the building, the area, or any inside cozy furnishings and comfortable surroundings. It was just… It was just this feeling that she could… sit here forever… stare out the window or curl up on the couch---with him, like here was home. But here wasn’t home--- -home was across town----a bigger apartment, comfortable, roomy, with nicer furnishings. Home was…—well, she thought she knew. Home was where she laid her keys at the end of the day---where she could sit and read, watch TV, lounge around in sweats, or just… be. Here is not home, Dana, she told herself. No, of course it wasn’t. She knew that. She knew it was not, but yet… Why? Why, when she could be in her apartment doing those things, why was it better here? When had home stopped becoming home? “Scully?” Her thoughts suddenly interupted, Scully glanced at her partner with half- confused, half-weary eyes. She was tired, exhausted beyond belief, but she still held a soft smile for him. “Hm?” she responded, and forced herself to stifle an impending yawn. Slyly, she managed to disguise it under the guise of letting out a groan while cracking her neck. Under her feet lied the remnants of ribbons and bows, wrapping paper and tape. A piece of tape was stuck to her heel… It felt nice. Scully was tired, incredibly, insanely tired but…well this was just nice. This felt nice. This being with Mulder… it felt…right… good. Better than any sleep she couldn’t see herself getting anyhow within the next few hours. But she knew that if she started to show signs of exhaustion, Mulder would only stealthily, guiltily, insist that she go home and rest. And she didn’t want to. Yes, home was home she supposed, but she wasn’t ready to go home just yet. Mulder grinned softly. He looked as if he had too much say and not enough time to say it in. “Um, thanks,” he commented. “Thank… Thank you, a lot for… Well, thanks for the tape,” he finished, running his fingers over his gift. She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, a half smile gracing itself across her lips. “It’s just a tape,” she reasoned lightly. He still grinned. “But you’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” Silence fell over them… peaceful comfortable… that feeling she couldn’t decipher… Why, exactly, she felt the urge to say something, she didn’t know. “It was…” She began to wring her fingers gently. “I didn’t know what to get you…That is… I couldn’t decide…” Her voice trailed off then, for some reason, phrases evaporating, words suddenly failing her. Her hand lingered in the air for a quick moment, as if still in mid-explanation, but she dropped it to her lap. Her eyes glanced down for a second, out of automation, and her face became flushed for some reason she was not aware of. Out of habit and stupid pride, she usually tried to hide emotions from her partner when she could, and right now, she didn’t want him to see her blush. Mostly, because she didn’t know what it was she was blushing about. Come to think of it, she couldn’t even remember what she had been about to say… So tired… “Maybe it’s teamwork,” she suddenly heard him whisper, and her head glided up to meet his gaze. “Mulder?” she questioned. “Teamwork, Scully,” he repeated. “Because no one gets there alone, right?” He bit his lip in what seemed like slight anticipation. He wants to know if I’m following him, she realized. She cocked her head to the side, slightly befuddled. Exhaustion was beginning to slow her brain, turn it into molasses, and for some reason, she had a feeling that this was important.---That he thought for sure she’d get what he was reffering to.---That’s she’d recognize what it was he was talking about. Blame it on late nights or strange evenings, but she just didn’t. .. And she KNEW that she should… “Apollo 11?” he prodded, searching to see if she understood now. The look on his face gave away slight disappointment. His eyebrows raised and he searched her eyes. Her gaze fell upon his new tape: “Apollo 13.” Then it dawned on her, sleepy as she was. Scully smiled, realizing what he was talking about, remembering why she had picked that particular movie. A part of her felt ashamed for being so slow to remember it… the grin she wore when she had seen it in the store… The guilty feeling, recalling, ‘Ok, Scully, so no presents this year, right?’ “Just returning the sentiment,” she told him, glancing over to her keychain, placidly lying atop his coffee table. The gold shimmer against black enamel caught the light and sparkled. Home is where I drop my keys, Scully silently mused, staring at her gold key- ring. Home is where I settle down for the night. Home is where I feel safe. Home is where… Home is across town, she reminded herself. But the warm feeling lingered. It’s different here… “Mulder?” she suddenly asked. Mulder looked up from his new tape, his eyes slightly smudged with circles—lines of worry and from lack of sleep---if she were to guess. “Yeah?” His expression was soft. And rarely did she ever see it that soft. His eyes smiled at her, gentle and caring, but as always that look of mischief glimmered behind them. That look that said, ‘say what you must Scully, but I warn ya, I’m 3 steps ahead.’ She’d never admit it to him, but she really enjoyed that look sometimes. She rolled her new Kaleidescope gently across her palms, back and forth over them. The shiny tube glittered in the half-light. “This is great, thank you.” Scully shot him a full-wattage smile----one she rarely ever used, mostly because she saved it for special occasions…But…well, she and Mulder were here---together and not fighting, surprisingly enough, so she figured this would be as special a time as any. Its effect was immediate. His glow warmed her all over. Outside it was snowing---characteristically stereotypical for Christmas, normal even, on some level, but here, she realized, here it wasn’t cold. Not even remotely cold… Outside it was cold. In her car, it was cold. Even in her apartment, it was cold. It was cold almost everywhere, she noticed, even when she cranked up her heater to its highest setting. Even when she pumped it so high that flamingos could come in to sunbathe... Even then, it wasn’t warm like it was here. Here it was… different. Inside, she wasn’t shivering. “Scully?” Mulder watched her with slight amusement. She seemed to be mesmerized by his present, caught up in rolling it between her palms. Harder and harder she stared at it, and Mulder repeated her name. “Scully?” Scully’s head snapped up from his Christmas gift. “Yeah, Mulder?” He looked down almost sheepishly. “You really like it, or are you humoring me?” His question caught her off guard, mostly because Mulder was usually relatively cocky and quite sure of himself when it came to these things. She could even remember the grin on his face two years ago---the smirk he wore when she had opened up her key-chain. Why would he think she wouldn’t like it? Didn’t he know that she’d like anything he gave her, as long as it was from him? Scully frowned slightly. “Of course I do,” she reasoned. “Why wouldn’t I?” Mulder shrugged, looking for all the world like a neglected puppy. To be honest, he looked almost… lost. Her hand rose of its own accord to touch his shoulder, her fingers running reassuringly down his biceps. “Actually Mulder,” she continued, “I once wanted one of these when I was a kid, but my father… He said they were pointless---without purpose. He said, ‘Starbuck, what do you want with a silly thing like that?’ ” This time, it was Scully’s turn to shrug, her nearly sad gaze catching the shadows on the carpet. “But I just thought it was pretty…” Mulder’s hand rose up and covered hers---warm and safe. Companionable quiet hovered nearby, the feeling of something different lingering here still. Their eyes connected. Warmth spread. It felt like home. Home is where a person is warm. Home is a place you long for when you’re away-- - where you lay your keys when you come back… No, this is not home, she had to remind herself. Home is across town. Off the interstate----2 blocks past Maple and Wiltshire. Home is not here… “I didn’t know that about you,” Mulder said, as if it had just struck him. “Well, I never told you,” was Scully’s reply. This time, her yawn was loud, and unmistakable. Scully reached a weary hand to her mouth, her quick glance towards Mulder telling him that the action was unexpected and unintentional. But it had happened, nonetheless, and now it was out in the open. Yes, she was very tired. Yes, she had needed to yawn… Hand now lowered, Scully studied Mulder studying her. His gaze unreadable, she watched his eyes for any hint of a reaction. “Tired?” he asked softly. “A little,” she admitted. She hoped he would be able to hear the inflection in her voice. The tone that said, ‘But I’m not ready to leave just yet…’ Their gazes caught again. Warmth, she thought tenderly. Here there is warmth, companionship. Here there is shelter. Her home had always been where she slept---where she relaxed. It was where she laid down her keys at the end of the day. Mulder’s home had been where he did the same. Relax. Sleep. Lay down his keys… But it wasn’t really home. It didn’t feel like home. Not really… Sometimes, she mused, sometimes the office was home---warm and inviting, even if it was often dank and dingy. Sometimes home was a dusty motel room, Mulder always on the other side, bursting through her door with his greasy food and insane theories… she usually on the bed or at the desk, glasses perched on nose, eyebrow raised. Sometimes home wasn’t even on the ground either--- sometimes it was in the air---Hundreds of thousands of feet up, while she ran through files, and he pushed an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. Sometimes home was a smile. She lived in her apartment, slept there, ate there… but home… Home was someplace else entirely. Home was the feeling---this “difference” she just couldn’t seem to place. It was the rush she felt when he opened the door and smiled. It was the reason why her heater couldn’t keep her from shivering, why she was warmer here than anywhere else. Here it was different. Here it felt different. And it didn’t seem to matter where “here” was, because here felt like home. “Hey Scully, ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ is coming on…” Good…He wasn’t going to ask her to leave… Could it be that he really wanted her here as much as she wanted to stay? Scully’s eyes were half closed, her head having faltered holding itself up. Under her cheek, she could feel Mulder’s heartbeat… In the midst of her musings though, she couldn’t, for the life of her, remember lying back into Mulder’s chest. But she was, nevertheless, and his arms encircled her----safe strong. “Mulder,” she mumbled affectionately into his shirt, “It was on 5 times yesterday, 8 the day before, 3 different channels this morning alone…” She couldn’t see his face anymore, but something told her that he was smiling. “Actually 4,” he corrected her dryly. “Telemundo. Don’t forget the Spanish channel.” Scully shifted, and Mulder’s arms tightened around her. “Sorry, my mistake,” he heard her muffle sleepily through his t-shirt. “Feliz Navidad George Bailey.” Mulder chuckled slightly, and grabbed the remote. Clicking the power button, he watched as the TV set flicked on in a blaze of bluish color. ‘May all Aquaintance be forgot…’ He set the volume on mute, and his heart beat slightly faster as Scully’s arms rose up to rest upon his chest, her head finally settling there. His eyes drifted from the TV set to his gift---an Apollo 13 video that Scully had carefully purchased for him. It would most likely end up being one of the only “tasteful” movies in his apartment, he realized, amused. God, out of all the things to happen to us tonight, he thought, this is the most real. This is the most rewarding. At first, he had thought that ghost hunting would fill a void this year----that by doing something with her---something like ‘old times’, like the X files, he would somehow be able to keep her from leaving him and going away. Every time she did, for whatever reason, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Sit in the apartment, dribble a basketball. Go to work---toss spit wads up at the ceiling---like the mature adult that he was. Sit idle and think, evaluate, analyze…Another holiday on the couch, another Christmas by himself, with only his shadow governments, conspiracies and his bitter pill to keep him company. Maybe the ghosts had been right---maybe all this was, was a last ditch effort to keep her around, to keep her from leaving him----from leaving him alone. Truth be told, he was terrified of being alone now---now that he had her with him. Now that she was a constant---so close… His one truth in the world. Sometimes, sitting in this apartment, his apartment, and usually more often on the holidays, he would feel…this… unhappiness… this feeling…----That certain despair that accompanied lonliness. But that wasn’t here now. No, it wasn’t here. Tonight it was different. Tonight his apartment actually felt warm, comfortable, like home, and not just the place where he laid down his keys at the end of the day. “Merry Christmas Mulder,” came her soft whisper. Mulder smiled. Embolded, probably by her drowsy state, he leaned his head over to kiss the top of hers, his lips lingering in the copper gold of her hair, his fingers stroking her cheek. “Night, Scully,” he whispered back, and bit his lip. “I know it may not make up for… for me ruining your Christmas eve… but … I’m just glad you’re here with me.” The sigh that he knew would accompany that statement arrived expected and on schedule. The voice that came next was one heavy laden with overdue sleep. “You didn’t ruin it, Mulder…” she mumbled, half -coherent in a drowsy haze. “You know that I don’ t do anything I don’t ----“ She yawned and continued, “Don’t want to do. Besides, I like where I am right now…I don’t want----“ She yawned again, “to be anywhere else…” Mulder’s eyes began to droop just listening to her. Her yawning was contagious, and he stifled one of his own. He listened to her words… Her words gave him something he felt he had lost… Something to hope for… And a feeling… A feeling he felt inside his apartment now, but one that was usually not there. What… what was it? It made the place feel different, somehow. Comfortable, Familiar but… Different… It was like home. But was it just Christmas? Was that it? Was it this holiday, this day that was somehow making his apartment feel like more than just a few walls and a roof? Was it the essence of what all those cheesy movies said it was? No…No, it couldn’t be that… All his other holidays—his other Christmasses, they had all been so…bleak… But this… It really was like coming home. And it wasn’t the room or the place. It was something else… “Um, Merry Christmas Scully,” he whispered softly into her hair, this feeling he just couldn’t seem to shake wandering over him. “Uh huh,” she muttered back, more asleep now than awake. “Before I have to… have to shoot you…Mulder…” She sighed into the soft cotton of his shirt, and he smiled. “Shut up… and get some rest… fall asleep with me...” He smiled and rested his eyes upon Scully’s key-chain for a moment, lingering there briefly, before he slowly drifted away. Suddenly, Mulder wasn’t so afraid of being alone. His fatigue deepened, then ebbed as he gently nodded off. On his chest, Scully slept with a soft smile on her face, her tender expression for-telling of dreams and a feeling… She had no name for it, other than ‘home.’ The feeling blanketed and protected them like the snow gathering on Mulder’s fire escape. Because, after all, home is where you rest your head----where you are safe and warm. Home is where you lay your keys after an exhausting day… And Scully’s keys were on his coffee table. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Ahhh… A fluffy Christmas tale… Sigh…. At any rate, I hope you liked it, and please send feedback if you so wish… I love feedback!! It’s great stuff!! And don’t forget, ‘Have yourself A Merry little Christmas.’ … Happy holidays everyone!!