#ficmas2023

He arrived at the Christmas party with the simplest of plans: find her in the crowd, confess his love for her and hope for the best. The best has happened without him having to lift a finger. He grins, letting Scully lead. That has always been the way to her heart.

“Where are we going?” he asks her.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Just- away.”

That’s enough for him. They’re standing in front of the elevator, waiting. Their hands till entwined, they turn to each other. They’re both slightly out of breath, but breathing in sync. The smile on Scully’s face is carefree and reckless. He doesn’t know what he looks like, can’t even begin to guess, but he knows he’s full of love for her.

She said she’s scared and he’s taking it to heart. He won’t confess his love for her now, or here. The words want out, but he can keep them inside a while longer. Until she’s ready to hear them and not give him another “Oh, brother”. He knows what she’s feeling. He knows it’s love. He’s seen it in bright colors, has heard it loud and clear when he could read her mind. For now, that’s all he needs.

“Away sounds good,” he says, stepping closer to her. The elevator is taking its time. Standing here in a hallway isn’t the most romantic setting for a first kiss. Her only stipulation though was for them to get away from their ex-partners. What were the chances of Diana and Ethan being there? They could have avoided this if only they’d talked beforehand. But they’ll never learn.

“Why are you smiling?” she asks, sporting a smile herself.

“You,” he says simply. “You make me smile.” She blushes furiously and it makes him hold her closer. Anyone could see them here but so far, she doesn’t seem to mind. He, of course, couldn’t care less who sees them.

“Where is that damn elevator?” she mumbles, slipping from his embrace and pressing the button a few more times. He follows her, needing to be close.

“Hey you,” he says quietly and it sounds loud here with no one around. She turns to him and tips up her face. He’s been reading her expressions for years. He knows this one; it’s impatience. She, too, wants this. Their first kiss. All they have to do is take that last step. But Mulder hesitates. Should he just plunge in or resist and wait until they’re out of here?

“Mulder?” He’s been thinking so hard, analyzing this to death, that he hasn’t noticed how close they’ve come. Like magnets, they’ve drawn close. Their bodies have no doubts or tribulations. They know exactly what they want. Their heads are the problems.

“I can’t wait,” he says, his eyes fluttering shut. Their heads move closer and there she is; he can smell her. Her breath comes fast, and so does his. Their noses bump together in their blind approach and they both giggle. Mulder cracks one eye open to see hers closed, and her mouth open slightly. An invitation. She, too, doesn’t want to wait any longer.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” she breathes and he can taste the word on his lips. This is the moment. This is it. His heart is hammering against his chest and his whole body buzzes. There’s music somewhere in his head, growing louder and louder. Their lips brush for the first time and then, in that same instance, the elevator dings and the doors open. They jump apart flustered and come face to face with the smiling faces of a group of Christmas carolers dressed as elves and reindeer.

“Silver Bells,” one of them sings, and the others join in, “It’s Christmas time in the city. Ring-a-ling, hear them ring.” Mulder stares at the carolers, dressed in green and red before his eyes find Scully. She’s biting her lip, her cheeks red as ripe tomatoes, and her eyes full of glee. He smiles, touching his lips absent-mindedly. They tingle in anticipation of what’s to come. But first, he takes a deep breath, and when the carolers are back on the chorus, he joins in.

“Ring-a-ling,” the carolers sing and Mulder answers with a slightly out-of-tune “ring-a-ling" of his own. He grins at Scully all the while, and she looks at him as if he’s hung the moon. They may not be kissing yet, but this moment is theirs all the same.

“Hey, you should join us.” One of the carolers shakes his hand after the song. “We’re here for the Christmas party.”

“Maybe next year,” Mulder says. “I have a date.” The whole group turns to look at Scully, who’s slipping away into the elevator, barely waiting for Mulder to join her.

“We need to get out of here,” she says.

“I will follow wherever you go,” Mulder says. The elevator takes them downstairs, and then, a few glorious moments later, they’re outside. “I took a cab here.”

“So did I,” Scully says.

“Should we-” He doesn’t get to ask his question because just then, a snowflake lands on his nose. Then another, and another, and another. Scully lifts her face to the sky, snowflakes catching in her lashes. He’s been waiting for the perfect moment, and he doesn’t know who he has to thank, but he knows he won’t wait another second.

He touches her arm and she turns to him, her mouth turned upwards. He pulls her close and she crashes into his chest. He lowers his head, their mouths meeting halfway. Finally. Their lips moving against each other, their tongues getting acquainted, he thinks he hears music again. But he only smiles, kissing her until they’re both out of breath.

“I’d ask to take you home,” Mulder says, not letting her out of his arms, “but-”

“I’m taking you home with me,” Scully says and it’s settled.

If you have any other questions feel free to send an ask!

I will be adding links in the prompt list so you can see the posts in a chronological version as the event days come up (can’t link to something that doesn’t exist)

December.

The final month of the year. 

His least favorite.

Sure he had his holiday special of a ghost fight, but that didn’t exactly make all his issues with this time of year magically go away.

It just added to it.

He tried to be better at not snapping at others. 

He was doing a better job at not being obviously grumpy when he was with his friends.

He was trying so hard.

It was exhausting. 

It didn't help that his usual outlet of ghost fighting was off the table because of the truce.

Despite his best efforts to not be a total downer, his friends noticed.

“Hey Danny, I think I know what will cheer you up!” Tucker said just as they sat down for their last school lunch of the year.

He tried to protest that he didn't need cheering up, but it died in his throat when his friends gave him a look.

“What’s your idea, Tucker?” Danny asked reluctantly.

“Well, I was thinking that maybe we could get together over break and do something.”

“Anything in particular?” Sam asked.

Danny was starting to get the feeling that this idea wasn't as sudden as Tucker made it seem at first. 

He didn't interrupt, but he was starting to brace himself.

“Yeah, actually,” Tucker said innocently enough, but it filled Danny with dread. “I don't know if you know this Sam, but,”

Tucker was interrupted by Danny dropping his head onto the lunch table with a moan. Of course this was his plan.

Tucker just continued like nothing happened, “Danny’s birthday is over winter break.”

“Wait, seriously? Why is this the first time I'm hearing of this?!”

Danny tilted his head so his chin rested on the table instead of his forehead, “because it doesn't matter.”

“Geez, I know you're in your annual winter funk, but that's a bit more depressing than usual.”

Danny just rolled his eyes as he sat up instead of answering. 

“Okay, this is happening. No backing out!” Sam ordered.

“Good luck with that.”

“Just tell us when and we'll make a day of it.”

“That's the problem.”

“Danny, stop being difficult.”

“I'm not!”

Sam crossed her arms, “then what do you call it?”

“Being realistic.”

“Okay I'll bite,” Tucker said with a sigh, “why is it going to be a problem?”

“Because everyone is going to be busy,” Danny answered firmly. Then he asked a follow-up question, “Sam, when's Hanukkah this year?”

“It's-” she started but abruptly cut herself off, “why are you asking?”

“Cuz it's one of those moving holidays, right?” he clarified, suddenly worried he just offended her somehow.

“It is.”

“So are you going to tell me?”

“You want to know if it falls on a certain day this year?”

“Yeah?”

“A specific day.”

“Yes…” he didn’t like where this was going, but he didn’t think there was any way to stop it now.

Sam just squinted at him for a solid minute before her expression changed.

“No. It can't be! Can it? I guess it's not impossible.” Sam said mostly to herself.

Danny just sighed.

“Wait, what just happened?” Tucker asked.

“She figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“His birthday,” She said with a smirk.

“Really?”

“Yup. Kinda surprised you haven't yet.”

“Don’t leave me hanging! You’ve gotta tell me now!”

They’re getting closer. It’s as much in the air as the scent of fresh pine and gingerbread. Her heart pitter-pattered when Mulder asked her if she was busy after they got home. Said he wanted to exchange Christmas presents before she left for San Diego. She said yes. They’re not even pretending they didn't get each other anything for Christmas this time like they did last year. This year they’re unabashedly honest. At least about the fact that they got each other gifts. She’s been carrying one of his gifts with her for a while. It’s nothing special, just something she thought funny, and that she hopes he’ll appreciate.

“After exchanging gifts,” Mulder says, fetching his keys from his coat pocket and glancing at her. “Would you like to stay and watch a movie?” The way he blushes makes her smile. They’ve known each other for seven years, and they’ve spent countless hours together, and yet, he blushes asking her this.

“I’d like that,” she replies with a soft smile. Mulder unlocks his door with his eyes still fixated on her face. He’s grinning from ear to ear and Scully has to stop herself from not just skipping a few steps and jumping his bones. She’s the rational one here, after all.

“I think I know what- what the fuck.”

Scully doesn’t register right away what made Mulder stop dead in his tracks as she’s about to take off her coat. She stops with her arms mid-air when she sees what Mulder is seeing too. There, in front of his desk, surrounded by soft glowing Christmas lights, stands Diana. Wearing a tiny Santa costume, a smile, and not much else.

“There you are,” she says sounding chipper. There’s not a hint of discomfort on her face or in her behavior. She glances at Scully and blinks, but then her attention is back on Mulder. “You should have called and said you’d be late.” She throws herself at him and he catches her – much to Scully’s chagrin.

“Did you drive Fox home?” Diana asks Scully with raised eyebrows. Up close, she can get a good look at the other woman. Who isn’t at all shy, despite Scully’s presence. As if, as Mulder’s partner, she was of no consequence to Diana. The other woman is waiting for her to say something. But what? Scully’s mouth is dry. She fears that if she does open her mouth, she will be sick.

What she knows for sure is that this sight will haunt her for years to come. Diana’s dress clings to her, revealing every curve the woman has. Except where the dress ends mid-thigh. Scully wishes she could close her eyes, cover her ears, and run out of here. Her heart tightens, and so does her throat, when she realizes what this means.

The way Diana is acting, the way she’s not as all taken aback, she knew when Mulder was coming home. Meaning he must have told her. Which also means he knew she would be here. Diana is still hanging from his neck, and while Mulder looks pale and surprised, Scully doesn’t think it’s because of Diana. It’s because he forgot she was here and he invited her in. She was never supposed to see this, or know about this.

Her fantasy crumbles like a dry piece of cake. There’s not going to be a kiss under the mistletoe for her and Mulder. There’s not going to be a shift in their relationship. All these little moments she’s accumulated over the months amount to nothing. His touches weren’t lingering, his smiles weren’t brighter. Or if they were, it was because of Diana. Knowing she was waiting for him at home. Knowing he had someone to come home to. Who knew Mulder would get out of the car before she did – and with someone else, too.

“I’m just- I’m gonna go,” she says, falling over her words as much as her feet.

“Good idea,” Diana says sweetly. There’s bloody red lipstick on her teeth when she gives Scully a devilish smile. All the fight has gone out of Scully and she finds herself walking backward towards the door.

“Scully, wait,” Mulder says, shaking a clingy Diana off, who pouts at him. For a moment, though, his full attention is on Scully. There’s a haunted look in his eyes and he’s pleading with his words, and his gestures, but Scully barely hears him. She backs away, needing the distance between them.

“This is not what it looks like,” he says.

“Don’t lie to her, Fox.”

“I’m not lying.” His voice is menacing when he turns back around, addressing Diana. “I don’t even know how you got in here.”

“You gave me your key last time, remember?” It’s that last blow. Her words feel like a slap and Scully gasps. Tears sting her eyes, and she knows that if she doesn’t leave right away, she will break down in front of Diana, and she refuses to give the other woman that satisfaction.

“I’m leaving,” she says so quietly she’s not sure either Diana or Mulder hear. And if she’s honest, she doesn’t even care. She needs to get away and lick her wounds. Alone.

“Scully, please.” But she just keeps going, the clack of her heels her only companion because Mulder isn’t running after her. She keeps the tears at bay until she’s in a cab on her way back home.

How could she have read these last few months so wrong?

As much as he relishes the sight, he knows he can't let her sleep. She's due at her family soon, and he's not going to get in the way of that.

"Scully," he whispers, gently tracing his finger against her cheek. Her skin is rosy and feels warm against his own. Butterflies take flight in his stomach as he watches her nose scrunch before she blinks her eyes open.

"Did I fall asleep?" she mumbles. "What time is it?"

"Early something. I didn't want you to miss Christmas with your family." She groans and stretches, her sweater riding up and revealing milky white skin. He's trying not to stare and knows he's failing.

"I need to get going." She uses Mulder's shoulder to heave herself up from the couch, leaving him in a cloud of her scent. She smells like vanilla and cinnamon, intoxicating him.

"Are you- have you thought about it?" Before she fell asleep, she asked him to accompany her to her mother's. Like every year. And like every year he said he'd think about it, knowing well he's going to decline. That was before he woke up to a sleepy, adorable Scully on his couch, whose face is so disarming that he's no longer sure what he should do.

"It would make my mom happy," she says. "It would make me even happier," she adds quietly. He can't say no. Not when she looks like she does. Or when she looks at him like this.

"How about," he begins and he sees her face fall. "I drive you to your mother's and then when you and her still want me there-"

"Mulder," she cuts him off, exasperation in her voice that he decides to ignore.

"Then I might stay an hour or two. What do you say?"

She observes him for a long, languid moment before she says, "let's go."

The roads are empty and they get to her mother's easily. And way too quickly for Mulder to have made up his mind. He parks the car and Scully throws him a smile, sweetly asking him to help her with the gifts. There's no way he can deny her.

They make their way to Mrs. Scully's house, their arms full with gifts. He's carrying a few more so that she can ring the doorbell. He hears a happy "Fox!" and mumbles a hello as he's ushered inside.

"Put the gifts over there." Maggie Scully pushes him into what he presumes is the living room. Once he's put down the boxes, he finds himself looking at a brightly smiling Mrs. Scully. Mulder has never seen her this delighted.

"I'm so happy you've finally decided to join us for Christmas, Fox." She engulfs him in a hug so tight that he's afraid he won't be able to catch another breath. A typical Scully hug. But usually, he receives them from her daughter and after he's almost died. He prefers it like this.

"I told you," Scully says smugly once her mother lets go of him.

"I had a feeling," she says, taking his hand into hers and pulling him toward the kitchen where various pans and pots are filled with pleasantly smelling delicacies. His stomach grumbles. Neither he nor Scully have eaten in a while.

"Dana said you're half Jewish," Mrs. Scully explains. "And I asked around, wanting to make something that would show you how much we appreciate you, Fox." With every word she says, the noose around his heart tightens. "I made latkes. Now, this is the first time I made them, but I had my neighbor try one and he said if you don't show up, he'll eat every single one of them. Do you like latkes, Fox? Oh, I hope you do." The knot in his throat prevents him from speaking, so he just throws his arms around Mrs. Scully, hoping she understands what this means to him.

"He loves everything that's made from potatoes," Scully says to her mother, and both women smile at him. A feeling of warmth spreads in his stomach. It feels very much like love.

"First things first," Mrs. Scully says, clapping her hands. "We have several little children - and a few adults - who want to open their presents. Come on you two."

In the next few hours, Mulder experiences a Christmas like he never has before. People he's never met treat him like he's part of the family. When Bill Jr. shows up, he grumbles exactly three times and then his expression softens. He pats Mulder on the back, lets him hold baby Matthew, and if he's heard right, gives him his blessing. For what, Mulder can only guess.

Scully remains by his side like a shadow. She falls asleep on him once while they're waiting for dinner. When she wakes up, and he moves a strand of hair off her forehead, her smile is like the first breaths of spring after an ice-cold winter. It takes his breath away.

She brushes his cheek with a finger, wiping away an invisible piece of lint, and her touch lingers. He still feels it when he stuffs himself with latkes, unable to stop himself. He thanks Mrs. Scully profusely in between bites, making her grin from ear to ear.

"Leave some for the rest of us," someone says to the amusement of everyone. He holds his breath while Bill Jr. tries one and only lets go of it once he announces that he likes it. There's laughter and joy, happiness and love. To Mulder, it feels surreal, like a dream. He barely dares to blink, afraid that if he does, he'll wake up in his cold, dark apartment, all alone.

"You look like a deer caught in the headlights." Scully is leaning against him and has her face tipped up. She's smaller than either of them is used to without her heels.

"Not to be pathetic," Mulder says, "but this might be the best Christmas I've ever had."

"Does that mean I won't have to talk you into this next year?" When she laughs, he feels it vibrate through his own body. Her eyes are sparkling and he's sure it's from the mulled wine they've had. He feels the effect of the alcohol, too, and can't stop glancing at her berry-red lips that are so deliciously inviting.

"You're going to get sick of me."

"Hmm, not gonna happen." She wobbles and he puts his hands on her waist to steady her. "I like having you here."

"I like being here."

"Then it's settled," she says, sighing. She turns in his arms, looking up at him. Should he dare? Should he try and make this night perfect?

"I wish there were mistletoe here," he whispers.

"I'm just not ready to face everything yet." A crack in her voice and her armor.

"It's okay. We can drive all day."

"My family would worry."

"Eh, just tell them it's my fault." It feels like it, too. He'll do his penance. In front of a God he doesn't believe in, if he has to. Anything for her. He glances over at Scully, shocked at how ashen her face is and how devoid of life. Only weeks ago, the color returned to her cheeks. After she beat her cancer, he thought this was it. He thought they were in the clear. But there's always something else waiting for them, trying to take them down.

Years ago, Scully told him how much she loved Christmas. They were younger then, their friendship new and untarnished. She told him about Scully family traditions and that no matter what, they always laughed. Back then he didn't know the Scullys, had yet to meet Mrs. Scully, Melissa, and Bill Jr. When he pictured them, it was always with crinkled laugh lines around their eyes and a smile on their lips. The same one Scully wore when she mentioned her family.

Today, there is no laughter, no joy. And he can't bear it. She deserves more. She deserves a Christmas where she can smile, laugh, and just be herself.

"Hey, Scully?" He decides not to think too much about it. Just do whatever it takes. No matter how ridiculous he's going to look or sound." Let's taco about Christmas." It's a bad pun, but it's the first one that comes to his mind.

"What?" Her voice sounds weak. If he wants to make her laugh, or even smile, he has to up his game.

"I'm pine-ing for you this Christmas?" he tries.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her eyebrows knit in concern. At least he's distracting her from her pain.

"I'm up to snow good."

"You're..." he feels her eyes on him, and since there's not much traffic, he turns to look at her. Her expression is neutral, but he thinks she's thawing. He can't ease her agony; only time can do that. No one can stop him from trying, though. He will make her smile today, come what may.

"I've got high elf-esteem."

"You're insane." And he hears it. Soft, almost shy, but decidedly there: a giggle. A real, honest cackle. He grins, glancing at her. Tears shimmer in her eyes, and he reaches over the console to grab her hand.

"There's no gift like the present." Scully chortles and his heart soars. "I have something for you, by the way. I must admit I stole it from your brother's house, but I think it was a brilliant idea. Are you hungry at all? I'm a bit hungry. Reach into my coat pocket."

"This is not a trick, is it?"

"What? No." Her eyes on him, she sticks her hand into his pocket and fishes out two candy canes.

"Stole it last night and look, these candy canes are in mint condition."

"I'm not hungry."

"You don't need to be hungry for a candy cane, Scully." The plastic crackles as Scully unwraps the candy. Soft peppermint aroma fills the car. She's just holding the candy cane as if unsure what to do next.

"Want me to lick it?" He realizes the implications of what he just said a moment too late. Their eyes meet and then, miraculously, they're roaring with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. Mulder stops the car at the side of the road, needing a moment. Their laughter dies down slowly, a few chuckles falling out of their mouths here and there.

"Want to share?" Mulder asks after a moment.

"Snow be it," Scully replies, the corner of her mouth twitching. She breaks the candy cane in two, handing one half to Mulder. He's almost too mesmerized to notice it. Scully takes her half and bites off a large chunk, chewing slowly.

"I know what you're doing," she says. "And I appreciate it. Thank you." She puts her hand over his on his thigh. Her face is close to his and she smells sweet and fresh, like the candy cane. "I- I needed a moment of, um. I just needed a moment."

"I can come up with another thousand bad puns," he says earnestly.

"You never give up, do you?" Her smile is shaky.

"Only if absolutely forced to." She nods, quickly wiping away a few tears.

"I think I'm ready to go to my brother's house now."

"Are you sure? We can keep going. Hell, say the word and I'll drive us home."

"I know you would." She squeezes his hand. "I don't want to ask but..."

"You can ask for anything, Scully. Anything at all."

"Will you stay with me a while?"

"No one can stop me. Well, your brother could, but I won't let him. And if you need-"

"I know, Mulder. I know. Now tell me another one. I can see it in your eyes. You want to make another joke." Her smile may be colored in sadness, but it's still a smile, and he helped put it there. He starts the car again, Scully's hand falling from his and onto his thigh.

And soon.

While his hands are on their journey, Scully's hand starts wandering, too, and finds its way into his underwear.

"What's the matter, Mulder?" she asks, her voice still gentle. He tries. He really tries, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on this moment, on his dream come true.

"This isn't working." It's Scully's voice and it's not. Mulder sighs, and opens his eyes, staring at the egg-white wall before him. Gone are the cabin, the fireplace, and worst of all, Scully. His fantasy a mere bubble that has burst.

His own hand lets go of his soft penis, the sense of failure pricking his mind. He told Scully that he's a pro at this part and as it turns out, he's not. Giving himself a moment, he sits down in the plastic chair and flips through the provided magazines. His mind, however, is elsewhere.

What is a father? And what will he be, if this works?

He and Scully haven't talked about it yet, both too scared to mention it. Neither of them dares to bring it up, fearing it will cause an avalanche of questions with consequences for their relationship. It's easier to push it aside, and up until now, he's managed. Now, in this room, where it counts, he can't stop thinking about it. About who he'll be in the child's life. About what shadows of his heritage will fall over this new life.

Once, years ago, Scully asked him about his family, his genetic makeup. Back then, he didn't know what he knows now. Can he still do this?

His timing - and location - suck, but he needs to talk to Scully. And he needs to do it now. She picks up after a few rings, seemingly happy to hear from him.

"Are you, um, finished with your... donation?" she asks and he wonders if she's blushing on the other end of the line.

"Not quite," he admits with a sigh. "I'm not- I'm lacking inspiration."

"And you called me to help you?" She doesn't sound as shocked as he would have expected, and for the first time in a while, his penis throbs, giving a sign of life.

"Not quite that either."

"You're not making sense, Mulder. Is there a problem?"

"There is. I- I started thinking about the implications of what we're doing."

"You've changed your mind." He thinks he can hear her heart break through the phone.

"No," he stresses. "I want to do this. That's not it. But what if... Scully, you know who my father is. I'm scared I'm not your best choice after all."

"I know who you are, Mulder. That is the only thing that matters to me. You're nothing like him. Nothing at all. Our child won't be either."

"Our child," he murmurs, closing his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. An idea with wings, ready to fly.

"It doesn't have to be," Scully says, falling over her words. "You don't have to be anything you don't want to be."

"I want to be," he admits. A father. A parent to this child that's half him, half Scully. He thinks of his own father - the man he grew up calling dad - and how he's shaped his life, and who he is. There are shadows in his biology that he may never shed light on. Maybe, he thinks, they don't matter much anyway. He trusts in what Scully sees in him.

"Thank you, Scully. I knew calling you would help."

"I should thank you. For doing this. Do you- do you need help with anything else?" He grins, wonders what she'd do if he said yes. But he has a date for this already. His fantasy Scully is still waiting by the fireplace.

"I'm good. I'll call you later, if that's okay. We could grab something to eat?"

"I'm sure you'll be hungry," she teases and Mulder knows he'll have no problem doing his duty now.

"In my pocket." It's been there for months. A few years ago, he considered giving it to her for the first time, afraid he was going to lose her. This time he's not afraid. He's not going to lose her. This is just to show her that she's his choice. That no matter what, he wants to be by her side. Wants her with him. For always. His smile is as shaky as his hand as he reaches into his pocket to take out the small box. Scully looks at it, then back at him.

"Mulder, I'm not sure that-"

"Relax," he says, "I'm not asking you to marry me. Unless you want me to." His wink is met with an amused eye roll.

"But I want you to have this." He puts the small box into her palm and closes her fingers over it.

"Can I look?" she asks him.

"Of course." He waits, watches her as the box comes open with a soft squeak. Scully gasps and stares at him open-mouthed.

"This is a- I can't accept this."

"It's yours."

"Mulder, this is a ring."

"Oh, is it? I thought it was sunflower seeds."

"This isn't funny."

"No, it isn't. I- Scully, I meant what I said. I want you to have this ring. After last year and the whole thing with Diana, with us doing IVF and- I found this again after my mom's death. Have I ever told you about my grandmother?" Scully, still staring at the ring, shakes her head.

"Let's sit down on that bench over there." His hand lands on the small of her back and they walk the small distance together, the golden ring catching a ray of sunshine as they do.

"My grandmother on my mother's side was Jewish. She and my dad never got along and after Samantha... I didn't see her often. The last time I did was shortly before I went to Oxford. She was old by then and sick. I was too young, or too much in denial, to understand that she was dying. She gave me this ring, making me promise that I wouldn't sell it, and would never let my dad have it. I thought she was crazy." He chuckles softly.

"She said this ring has been in her family for ages. I wasn't listening. You know me. I just wanted to get away from everything, even her. She'd always been good to me but I was young and dumb. What I remember is that she wanted me to give it to someone special. Someone I consider my family. I took the ring with me that day, barely looking at it. I left it with my mom. She asked me once if I wanted it back."

"Diana?" Scully asks, reading between the lines.

"Yes," Mulder admits. "But I laughed it off. I never wanted Diana to have it. My mom gave it to me after her stroke. Said it was time. Said that maybe I'd need the ring soon. And I almost did." Tears shimmer Scully's eyes when he glances at her face.

"I almost gave it to you back then." His voice cracks. "I would stare at this ring, thinking I should give it to you. But I was scared, Scully. I wasn't ready to admit it. I wasn't ready to stop fighting. It seemed too final. I could have - maybe should have - given it to you after you beat your cancer. But I- I didn't. But it's time, isn't it?"

"You said this wasn't a proposal." Scully sniffs and he puts his arm around her, pulling her into his side.

"It isn't, it's... a promise." Scully laughs and when their eyes meet, all he sees is love. It's no surprise to him. They don't need to speak the words to know they both feel it. Though he has said it. Even if Scully never says them, and he never dares to repeat the sentiment, it's there in everything they do. And he wants her to have something tangible to remind her.

"A promise to never ditch me again?" There she is again, teasing him.

"A promise to always come back if I do?" he offers in return.

"If I wear this, people will notice," Scully says, taking the ring out of its box. "I still can't believe it, Mulder." When she tries it on, she gasps, realizing it fits perfectly.

"I had it fitted. But I don't expect you to wear it. I just want you to have it. No matter how we define this - us -, you're my best friend, Scully. You're my family. There's no one else I can imagine giving this to. I don't want to either. It's you." Forever, he adds in his mind.

"I did not expect this," she says. "But- I love it, Mulder. The ring is beautiful and I appreciate the thought."

"Do I hear a but?"

"No buts, Mulder," she says, observing the ring on her finger. He does, too. It looks good. More than that, it looks right. His grandmother was right. There was a special person waiting for him all along.

"Thank you." She touches the side of his face and presses a long, lingering kiss to his cheek.

"No kiss on the mouth for a ring?" he jokes, grinning.

"Not in public."

"Does that mean I'll get another one later when we're alone?"

She gets up, the ring still on her finger. She offers him her hand and he takes it. Neither lets go as they start walking.