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His mood has already plummeted into nothingness when he hears the commotion. There are few people here in the store; it’s Christmas Eve and most people have all they want and need at home.
Still, it takes Mulder a moment to realize that the sound of angry, fighting people is coming exactly from where he left his friends. He sighs, making his way back to them.
He didn’t want to come here in the first place. Why do they need a tree now? When Christmas is almost over anyway? They had three weeks to buy one. Mulder couldn’t care less. For the tree or the festivities. He shouldn’t have asked the Lone Gunmen if he could spend Christmas with them in the first place. Looks like he’s still always making the wrong choices.
There they are: Frohike, Byers and Langley, who is wearing a Santa hat and clinging to a shrimpy fir, looking ridiculous.
“We saw it first!” He complains now, his glasses fogging up from his fury.
“You did not!” A woman with long, wavy hair retorts, trying to push him away.
“Please refrain from violence,” Byers says, sounding anxious.
“This is my tree,” the woman says. “Its aura is clearly attuned to mine.”
“Its what?” Langley asks, exchanging looks with his friends. Mulder can no longer stand here and do nothing. He takes a step forward, opens his mouth and-
“Stop fighting about the damn tree,” a voice that’s decidedly not his own says. “We can go somewhere else, Missy.” It’s another woman, smaller than her companion, with hair that looks like a golden autumn sunset. Mulder finds himself gaping at her.
“It has to be this tree,” the woman - Missy, Mulder thinks - sobs and gives Langley a death glare. Mulder doubts he can even see it, considering how fogged up his glasses are by now.
“We need this tree,” Frohike says, stepping forward. It’s three against two and Mulder has never been one to fight unfair.
“Actually, we don’t,” he says, causing everyone to stare at him. The woman, the tiny, feisty one, looks him up and down as if appraising him. He wants her to like what he sees even though she’s a complete stranger.
“What are you doing?” Langley asks.
“How about,” Mulder clears his throat, buying himself some time. “We, um- you know. The two of us will discuss it and make a decision.” He points at the smaller woman, whose eyebrows shoot to the sky.
“We?” She asks, pointing back at him.
“Do it,” Missy nudges her. “I want this tree. It’s mine.”
“It’s my tree but yeah, fine with me,” Langley says with a shrug.
“Don’t run away with it,” Mulder warns his friends and they nod. He and the woman stand to the side, keeping an eye on the tree and the squabblers.
“Hi,” he says with a smile, extending his hand. “My name is Mulder, Fox Mulder. But everyone calls me Mulder.”
“Everyone?” She asks, taking his hand. Her own is soft and feels small in his. But her handshake is firm, not shy at all. “I’m Dana. Dana Scully. But no one calls me by my last name.”
He’s still smiling at her - and she’s smiling back. Dana Scully. Her name sounds like it has the power to change his life.
“A shame, Scully.” He winks at her and she playfully rolls her eyes. Someone clears their throat, reminding them to get on. They’re not here to make acquaintances or to flirt. Though both options sound more appealing to him. There’s something about her that draws him in, makes him forget everything that’s gone wrong this year. Hell, his whole life.
“We’re a bit- that’s my sister Missy over there - we had a tree until last night when her girlfriend left her and took the tree with her,” Dana explains, bringing him back to their problem at hand.
“She took the tree?”
Dana nods. “She knows how much Missy loves Christmas and she just up and left with it.” Mulder casts a glance at Missy, whose face is pale and tear-streaked. She’s wearing a reindeer sweater, reading ‘I’m cooler than your grandma’. This woman deserves a Christmas tree, no matter how ugly it may be.
“The boys didn’t care about the tree until I said I’d spend the day with them,” Mulder says.
“So the tree is for you.” He hasn’t thought about it before and looking over at his friends now, his heart softens. They’re doing this for him. As misguided as it may seem, they were just thinking about him and trying to spread some Christmas joy to cheer him up.
“Seems that way. My, um, my father, he… he passed away recently and I think they feel sorry for me.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” She touches his arm and when he looks at her, he sees genuineness in her beautiful, blue eyes. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he and his father weren’t close. His father’s death didn’t hit him as hard as his mother uninviting him. She wants to be alone this year, she said. He knows what that means. There’s a new man in her life and there’s no place for her son.
“Missy will understand. You take the-”
“No, no,” he says quickly. “I don’t care about having a tree. The Three Stooges did that all on their own. You have the tree. I want you to have it. It’s my Christmas wish.”
“Your Christmas wish, huh? Anyone ever tell you you’re full of shit, Fox Mulder?” There’s a twinkle in her eyes that fills him with new hope. Whatever challenges she’s throwing at him, he wants to take them.
“Oh, you’d be surprised.”
“Would I be?”
“Hey Mulder,” Langley yells, interrupting their moment. “Can we take this tree home now?”
“Sorry, boys.” Langley groans but gives over the tree to Missy who, in a fit of giddy excitement, hugs not only Langley but also Frohike and Byers.
“So this is it then,” he says, reluctant to say goodbye.
“I guess so. Unless… what are you doing on New Year’s Eve? Feel free to decline but Missy always throws a party. It’s fun and it’s my last day hurrah before I start my new job. Why don’t you come? You can bring your friends too? Just as a peace offering for stealing the last tree from you.”
“I’d love that,” he says, his heart in his throat, his hands sticky like a teenager’s. He watches her scribble down a phone number and an address.
“I hope I’ll see you again… Mulder.” She hands him the piece of paper with a big smile before she joins her sister to help her with the fir.
“Mulder, what the fuck happened here?” Langley asks him, hitting his shoulder. But he’s still thinking about the way she said his name. He wants to hear it again.
“She was hot,” Frohike throws in unnecessarily.
“Now we need to change our plans for Christmas,” Byers says with a sigh.
Mulder is still holding the piece of paper, not listening at all. He still feels the touch of Dana Scully’s hand as it brushed his.
He will have to see her again because she just walked out of this store not just with a Christmas tree but his heart, too.