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whiskeycoffeeTitle: Cosmic Christmas Pizza
Author: m.jules
Rating: PG for wackiness
Fandom: X-Files
Genre: Gen, pointless fluff
Timeline: Approximately sometime around Season 3, I think.
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder and Dana Scully and their universe belongs to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, foremost, though for all legal purposes, I have to mention Chris Carter, 20th Fox, and 1013 Productions. This story? Well, let's not name names, shall we?
Author's Notes: Well, I WAS going to write a whole handful of holiday drabbles for various fandoms, and I started with Moose & Squirrel. Go figure, once those two got started, they wouldn't shut up in under 100 words. (You try getting Mulder and Scully in the same room without them going on for PAGES about nothing.)
So instead of a post with multi-fandom holiday drabbles, I will just post them one at a time as they write themselves.
And no, I will NOT write the story behind Mr. Valerio and the pizza.
“Mulder…”
Mulder couldn’t help grinning at the grimace on Scully’s face, the petulance in her voice. Nobody could whine like Dana Scully, especially at quarter to five on a Saturday morning.
“I know it’s early, Scully,” he said by way of apology as he stood in the hallway of her apartment building, wondering for just a moment if she was going to let him in. She still had sleep in her eyes and her hair was adorably mussed, an unflattering terry-cloth robe wrapped around her petite frame. “But I wanted to catch you before you went to your brother’s.”
She gave him a long-suffering look – the one, he knew from experience, that preceded her giving in to him – and stepped back to let him in, glaring at the tiny, wrapped gift he held in his hand.
“I thought we said no gifts,” she muttered unhappily as she closed the door behind him.
“It’s not, really,” Mulder grinned. “It’s just a little something.”
“Well, have a seat on the couch. I’ll be right back.” She shuffled off into her bedroom, leaving him to obey and settle awkwardly on the edge of the furniture. When she came back, she’d pulled her hair into a low ponytail and had a gift in her hands.
“Scully!” he cried in affected distress. “We said no presents!”
“Yeah, well,” she shrugged as she sat beside him on the couch, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I know better than to trust you.”
Mulder sobered, something altogether too serious flitting through his eyes. “You know you can trust me, Scully.”
Rare fondness crept over her features and she leaned back so she could look him in the eye. “I do trust you, Mulder. I trust you more than I trust myself.” She glanced down at the present in his hand. “Except when it comes to Christmas presents, the real reason we’re going on a case, and who ate the last piece of pizza.”
“That wasn’t me!” Mulder protested loudly, shoulders squaring as if for a fight.
“So who was it, then?” Scully challenged, eyebrows arching imperiously.
“I told you,” he sniffed, sounding offended. “It was Mr. Valerio.”
“Mulder,” Scully drawled, and he secretly loved the way she lingered on the ‘l,’ making the consonant sound indulgent and luxurious. Sometimes he thought he might provoke her just to make her say his name like that. “Mr. Valerio was dead long before that pizza disappeared.”
“If you recall, Scully,” Mulder rejoined, boyish glee in his expression now that the argument was well and truly joined, “The pizza delivery boy is the one who reported poor Mr. Valerio’s untimely demise. He died before he got his pizza.”
Scully rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t quite hide the smile that was threatening to overtake her expression. “By your own theory, Mulder, the only reason departed spirits would linger in this world is to take care of unfinished business.”
“Yes.” Mulder nodded emphatically, and she spread her hands in exasperation.
“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that pizza is important enough to delay Mr. Valerio’s passage into the afterlife.”
“Well you know, Scully,” Mulder said thoughtfully, sucking on his lower lip. “The hauntings did stop after that.”
“Great,” Scully said wryly. “You can start your own business – pizza and ghostbusting all in one. You could even make a movie about it – it’ll be like The Exorcist meets Mystic Pizza.”
Mulder laughed softly, surprised, and Scully smirked, knowing she’d won this round. She ducked her head a little and thrust his gift toward him. “Here, cosmic delivery boy,” she grinned. “Open your present.”
He took the gift obediently and handed hers over. “If you don’t like it,” he said as she began tearing at the wrapper, “It’s from Frohike.”
Scully snorted indelicately and he grinned as he casually leaned his shoulder against hers. After all, he thought, the purpose of “no presents” was so he could wake his partner up at an ungodly hour on Christmas morning and argue about ghosts who like pizzas. Hey Santa, he thought, in a mental voice that sounded alarmingly like Langley, Stick that in your chimney and smoke it.
He shook his head as he began to tug on the tape that held the wrapping paper on the gift Scully had given him and made a silent resolution not to attend the Lone Gunmen’s Christmas Eve party next year… or at least force Scully to attend it with him.
Author: m.jules
Rating: PG for wackiness
Fandom: X-Files
Genre: Gen, pointless fluff
Timeline: Approximately sometime around Season 3, I think.
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder and Dana Scully and their universe belongs to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, foremost, though for all legal purposes, I have to mention Chris Carter, 20th Fox, and 1013 Productions. This story? Well, let's not name names, shall we?
Author's Notes: Well, I WAS going to write a whole handful of holiday drabbles for various fandoms, and I started with Moose & Squirrel. Go figure, once those two got started, they wouldn't shut up in under 100 words. (You try getting Mulder and Scully in the same room without them going on for PAGES about nothing.)
So instead of a post with multi-fandom holiday drabbles, I will just post them one at a time as they write themselves.
And no, I will NOT write the story behind Mr. Valerio and the pizza.
“Mulder…”
Mulder couldn’t help grinning at the grimace on Scully’s face, the petulance in her voice. Nobody could whine like Dana Scully, especially at quarter to five on a Saturday morning.
“I know it’s early, Scully,” he said by way of apology as he stood in the hallway of her apartment building, wondering for just a moment if she was going to let him in. She still had sleep in her eyes and her hair was adorably mussed, an unflattering terry-cloth robe wrapped around her petite frame. “But I wanted to catch you before you went to your brother’s.”
She gave him a long-suffering look – the one, he knew from experience, that preceded her giving in to him – and stepped back to let him in, glaring at the tiny, wrapped gift he held in his hand.
“I thought we said no gifts,” she muttered unhappily as she closed the door behind him.
“It’s not, really,” Mulder grinned. “It’s just a little something.”
“Well, have a seat on the couch. I’ll be right back.” She shuffled off into her bedroom, leaving him to obey and settle awkwardly on the edge of the furniture. When she came back, she’d pulled her hair into a low ponytail and had a gift in her hands.
“Scully!” he cried in affected distress. “We said no presents!”
“Yeah, well,” she shrugged as she sat beside him on the couch, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I know better than to trust you.”
Mulder sobered, something altogether too serious flitting through his eyes. “You know you can trust me, Scully.”
Rare fondness crept over her features and she leaned back so she could look him in the eye. “I do trust you, Mulder. I trust you more than I trust myself.” She glanced down at the present in his hand. “Except when it comes to Christmas presents, the real reason we’re going on a case, and who ate the last piece of pizza.”
“That wasn’t me!” Mulder protested loudly, shoulders squaring as if for a fight.
“So who was it, then?” Scully challenged, eyebrows arching imperiously.
“I told you,” he sniffed, sounding offended. “It was Mr. Valerio.”
“Mulder,” Scully drawled, and he secretly loved the way she lingered on the ‘l,’ making the consonant sound indulgent and luxurious. Sometimes he thought he might provoke her just to make her say his name like that. “Mr. Valerio was dead long before that pizza disappeared.”
“If you recall, Scully,” Mulder rejoined, boyish glee in his expression now that the argument was well and truly joined, “The pizza delivery boy is the one who reported poor Mr. Valerio’s untimely demise. He died before he got his pizza.”
Scully rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t quite hide the smile that was threatening to overtake her expression. “By your own theory, Mulder, the only reason departed spirits would linger in this world is to take care of unfinished business.”
“Yes.” Mulder nodded emphatically, and she spread her hands in exasperation.
“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that pizza is important enough to delay Mr. Valerio’s passage into the afterlife.”
“Well you know, Scully,” Mulder said thoughtfully, sucking on his lower lip. “The hauntings did stop after that.”
“Great,” Scully said wryly. “You can start your own business – pizza and ghostbusting all in one. You could even make a movie about it – it’ll be like The Exorcist meets Mystic Pizza.”
Mulder laughed softly, surprised, and Scully smirked, knowing she’d won this round. She ducked her head a little and thrust his gift toward him. “Here, cosmic delivery boy,” she grinned. “Open your present.”
He took the gift obediently and handed hers over. “If you don’t like it,” he said as she began tearing at the wrapper, “It’s from Frohike.”
Scully snorted indelicately and he grinned as he casually leaned his shoulder against hers. After all, he thought, the purpose of “no presents” was so he could wake his partner up at an ungodly hour on Christmas morning and argue about ghosts who like pizzas. Hey Santa, he thought, in a mental voice that sounded alarmingly like Langley, Stick that in your chimney and smoke it.
He shook his head as he began to tug on the tape that held the wrapping paper on the gift Scully had given him and made a silent resolution not to attend the Lone Gunmen’s Christmas Eve party next year… or at least force Scully to attend it with him.
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-22 04:59 pm (UTC)I also like you icon! =)
no subject
Date: 2006-12-22 06:56 pm (UTC)Sadly, that is currently my only X-Files icon. But "Bad Blood" is my second-favorite ep (my first-favorite is "Pusher"), so...
no subject
Date: 2006-12-22 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-22 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-22 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-22 07:07 pm (UTC)It was also supposed to be a lot shorter. But then Scully brought up the pizza and it all went to hell.
*laugh*
no subject
Date: 2006-12-22 06:42 pm (UTC)*luffs*
no subject
Date: 2006-12-22 06:54 pm (UTC)*laughs*
(Frohike was going to get blamed for something or other. At first I was going to have them open their gifts, and Mulder's was going to be a video of Scully performing an autopsy on an 'alien.' But then I decided that was already done in Jose Chung and I didn't feel like going back there. But Scully was going to say she was regifting from Frohike.)
no subject
Date: 2006-12-23 01:56 am (UTC)Regifting from Frohike.
HEEEE.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-23 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-16 08:07 pm (UTC)