No, this is not a "Ghosts Who Stole Christmas" story, so no spoilers
for that, but there are still presents involved!   :)


TITLE:  Simple Gifts
AUTHOR:  Susanne Barringer
EMAIL:  sbarringer@usa.net
ARCHIVE:  Already sent to Gossamer.  Anywhere else okay with these
headers attached.
CATEGORY:  SR 
KEYWORDS:  MSR (UST?) could be either, but I lean toward MSR
RATING:  PG for a few words
SPOILERS:  Up to Triangle
SUMMARY:  Does the world need another
Scully-tries-to-find-a-Christmas-gift-for-Mulder story?  Well, you
get one anyway.  And there's a surprise in it for Scully as well.
DISCLAIMER:  Nope, not my characters.  They belong to Chris Carter,
1013, and Fox.  No money is being made off this; no infringement
intended.

______________


AUTHOR'S NOTE:
It's my turn to write the sappy Christmas story.  Sappy, schmoopy,
schmaltzy, mushy, whatever you call it, this qualifies!  :)  Oh, and
I gave Mulder a normal bedroom (just for the sake of the story). 

_______________ 


Simple Gifts
by Susanne Barringer


I slump on a bench in the center of the mall.  My feet hurt, my head
aches, and the crowds are starting to make me want to lash out and
slap someone.  But my Christmas shopping is finished at last.  All
except for Mulder that is.  I have absolutely nothing at all for
Mulder, and no ideas either.

Actually, I'm not really obligated to get Mulder anything.  We have
never exchanged Christmas gifts before.  The first year we were
partners I did buy him something--a flying saucer tie tack.  However,
when he left for the Christmas holiday without giving me so much as a
card, I held back the gift and returned it to the store the next day.
 It wasn't that I was being petty; I just didn't want to make Mulder
feel uncomfortable when he obviously had not thought to buy me a
gift.  The memory makes me smile.  I clearly didn't know Mulder very
well then or else I would have known that nothing embarrasses the
man, especially something as silly as not having bought a present for
his partner.

The incident did, however, establish the precedent, and since then I
haven't bought Mulder a gift, nor has he given me one.  In truth, we
never exchange gifts for any occasion, except that one time that
Mulder got me an Apollo keychain for my birthday.  To say it
surprised me is an understatement.  It was just so unMulder-like. 
Ultimately, though, I've generally been relieved that I never gave
him that tie tack.  If I had, I would be more or less committed to
buying him something every year, and choosing gifts for Mulder is
difficult, as I am just now discovering with a vengeance.  

We've gone through five years of partnership with hardly a gift
passed between us.  Nothing says that can't continue.  But this year
is different.  This year we almost kissed, much to my initial dismay
and later curiosity, then he said he loved me, which he may or may
not have meant since he was flying high on pain-killers at the time. 
In any case, I want to buy him something, something nice.  The
problem is, I have no idea what.

I have that horrible feeling you get when Christmas rolls around and
you are in the beginning of a relationship.  Of course, Mulder and I
are hardly at the beginning, and we don't really have a relationship
relationship, but the feeling is the same.  It's that feeling of not
knowing how to match the gift to the level of the relationship--are
you at the $25 point, or the $50 point or the $100 point?  Would a
generic wallet or tie be too casual and simple?  Are you serious
enough yet to move to the personal gifts?  Would it be inappropriate
to go for the big ticket item?  I often think that is one of the
advantages of being married; you don't have to play guessing games
anymore about appropriate and inappropriate Christmas presents.  Not
that it matters really--I haven't been in gift-limbo all that often
anyway.  Only once in my entire life have I committed myself to the
truly personal gift, and that was when I bought the engraved watch
for Jack Willis as a birthday present.  

My relationship with Mulder has changed over the past year, despite
all the struggles on both our parts to fight against it.  Perhaps
that's why I feel the urge this Christmas to buy him something nice,
something to symbolize that change and my gradual, albeit reluctant,
acceptance of it.  The main problem still remains, however.  What can
I get him that would be something he would love, that would be
personal from me to him, and that doesn't cost more than I have in my
savings account? 

Unable to make a decision, and tired of trying, I decide to throw
caution to the wind and visit the gift suggestion booth at the center
of the mall.  I've always thought the whole idea of relying on the
advice of a total stranger for a gift for someone you know personally
is pretty pathetic and desperate, but, well, I'm desperate.  Besides
it can't hurt.  If I don't like their ideas, I won't have lost
anything.

I approach the woman who is running the booth, and who looks about
half my age.  I'm not sure I trust her wisdom.  "Need a gift?" she
asks with an annoyingly perky attitude.

I swallow my pride.  "Yes, I could use some advice."

"Man or woman?"

"Man."

"Relative, friend, co-worker, or significant other?"

For some reason I hesitate on that question.  It's not like it's not
obvious.  "Friend.  Good friend."

The woman seems to sense my hesitation.  "Boyfriend?"  I feel my face
turn red and I resist the urge to flee.

"Friend," I reiterate, "Good friend."

"I see," says the woman.  "Good friend."  She punches the information
into the computer.  "His interests and hobbies?"

Porn, adult films, 1-900 lines.  I decide to skip mentioning those
particular hobbies, especially since the gifts on any list generated
by that information would probably come from Fredericks of Hollywood,
and that's not the kind of "personal" present I had in mind.  "UFO's,
anything paranormal, space travel, science-fiction, and, uh, fish I
guess.  And sports."  

The woman doesn't even bat an eye, just goes on tapping on the
keyboard of the computer.  "Type of job?"

"UFO's, anything paranormal, space travel, science-fiction," I
repeat.  This time the woman looks at me with irritation.  "FBI
agent," I say, and she nods her approval at my revised version and
enters it into the computer.

"Is he a social kind of guy, or a stay-at-home kind of guy?"

"He travels a lot, but mostly for business.  He's more of a
stay-at-home person.  I definitely wouldn't classify him as social,"
I can't help the smile that I feel when I say that. 

"Okay, then, I'll run this through and see what comes up.  Then we
can limit it some more if we have to."  She hits a key and sits back
to wait.  I can't believe I'm getting advice from a computer about
what to buy for my own partner.  We wait and wait and wait.  "Doesn't
usually take this long," she says with an apologetic look.  It
figures Mulder wouldn't be programmed, categorized, or easily
referenced.

Finally the machine beeps and the woman leans forward to read.  "Well
there's a lot of the usual stuff listed--ties, cologne, sports
equipment--but that's probably not what you want since he's such a
'good' friend," she says with a note of sarcasm.  "The only really
unique thing listed is . . ." she clicks the mouse a few times. 
"Telescope."

Telescope.  Now why didn't I think of that?  It seems perfect for
Mulder, and I know he doesn't have one.  "Thanks," I say.

"Science and Nature Emporium, third store on the left past the food
court," she directs.  "Hope your 'good' friend likes it," she says
with a smile.

A half hour later, I leave the mall packing an extremely large and
unbelievably expensive telescope.  Since I know nothing about them, I
had to trust the salesman when he told me it was definitely worth the
extra hundred and fifty bucks to go for the top-of-the-line model. 
I'm sure I've been suckered, but it's for Mulder so I don't mind the
cost.  On the way home, however, I suffer from second thoughts.  It's
not the gift itself.  I know he'll like it and probably even love it.
 It's just that it's so big, a major gift.  I'm worried he'll
misunderstand.  Misunderstand WHAT exactly, I'm not sure, but a
four-hundred dollar gift from out of the blue definitely leaves room
for a hell of a lot of misunderstanding.  



***********************


"You got me a present, Scully?"  Mulder looks surprised as I wrestle
my way into his apartment with the box that must weigh fifty pounds. 
All the second thoughts I've had in the days since I made the
purchase come bubbling to the surface again.  "I thought we didn't do
the Christmas present thing," he says with his eyebrows furrowed. 
God, he IS going to misunderstand this, no doubt about it.  Too late
though.  There's no way I can not give it to him now that it's here.

"I know, Mulder, but I just saw it and thought it would be something
you'd like."  Now there's a lie.  I just saw it?  A four-hundred
dollar telescope?  Right.  I had to ask a damn computer to think of
it for me.

"It's heavy!" Mulder comments with a look of curiosity as he takes it
from me.  "Uh, I didn't get you anything, Scully," he says with a
look that isn't all that guilty, just as I figured.  "I mean, I
didn't know . . ."

"Don't worry about it Mulder.  Like I said, I just saw it and thought
of you."  Mulder nods and motions to me to have a seat on the sofa. 
He sets the box carefully on the coffee table, then sits next to me. 


"Should I open it now?" he asks, looking at me like a little kid who
just got a visit from Santa.  I figure he might as well, then I can
cut out of here if things get too awkward.  Mulder opens the small
card I've attached.  He reads it aloud:  "I'd give you the stars if I
could, but maybe this is close enough."  

I kick myself.  It didn't sound that mushy when I wrote it.  It was
supposed to be a cute joke, but it doesn't sound like a joke when he
doesn't know what's in the package yet.  He's going to get the wrong
idea.  Sure enough, he looks at me oddly, then hardly hesitates
before reaching down to unwrap the paper.  Inside is a plain black
case.  I watch Mulder's face as he unhooks the latches and opens the
lid.  His eyes grow wide, then, to my surprise, cloud over in a mask.
 

Without a word, he slowly reaches in and touches the shank of the
telescope.  He lifts out the main section and looks at it carefully. 
His eyes run up and down its length, then his hands stroke gently
over the steel.  He touches every part of it, his eyes never leaving
the instrument.

I'm confused, to say the least.  His reaction is not at all what I
expected.  It's intense and brooding and seems out of place in a
holiday gift-giving session.  I'm not sure what to make of it all,
except that I've made a huge mistake, so I break the unbearable
silence with explanation.

"I've always been surprised you didn't have one, Mulder.  It seems
like your kind of thing," I prompt, trying to clue him in that the
proper thing to do at this point is to say something--any comment
will do.  I cannot place the sudden look that falls over his eyes. 
It seems melancholy, sad, and I can't understand what I've missed.

When he finally speaks it is softly, sadly.  "I used to have one. 
Once.  Before Samantha . . ." his voice trails off like a puff of
smoke, and suddenly it hits me.  The piece I've been missing looms
with revolting clarity, but before I can speak, Mulder continues.

"My parents bought me a telescope for my eighth birthday.  I loved
it.  I'd sneak out of bed after they thought I was asleep and just
gaze at the sky for hours.  I used to make up stories, about
spaceships and astronauts and all kinds of creatures that came from
the stars."  A half-smile graces Mulder's face at the memory.  

"Then Samantha was taken.  I couldn't believe it.  I couldn't believe
that whatever it was that had taken her away from us had come from up
there, from the beauty and glory that I had watched and studied every
night for as long as I could remember."  Mulder pauses, but still
doesn't look at me.  His hands continue to caress the instrument in
front of him, never stopping their movement.  It's as if he just
can't accept that something so wonderful could betray him so
horribly.  

"In the weeks after she disappeared, when it became clear that I
would never see her again, I never once looked into that telescope. 
I just couldn't bring myself to look out at the place where she was,
or at least where I thought she was.  One night, I went out to the
garage and got a hammer, and I smashed my telescope into a million
pieces, just like those million pieces of shining glass in the sky
that had brought me so much happiness for so long."  Mulder finally
looks at me, just in time to see the tears that have sprung up in my
own eyes.

"Oh, Mulder.  I'm sorry.  I wasn't thinking."  I can't believe how
royally I have screwed this up, how I have managed to take what
should be a beautiful gift and instead brought back the nightmares of
Mulder's past.

Mulder reaches across and takes my hand.  "No, Scully.  That was a
long time ago, another lifetime.  I have new things to look for in
the skies.  I have new stars in my life now."  I'm honestly not sure
if Mulder is being sincere or if he's just trying to be polite
because he sees how upset I am about my poor choice of gifts.  Then,
he reaches over and touches my face so that I am forced to look into
the night sky of his eyes.  "I love it, Scully.  Thank you."  He
leans forward and kisses me lightly on the lips and I close my eyes
to keep from losing it.  "I mean it.  This is the best thing anyone's
ever gotten me."  I smile at him, not really knowing what else to do.
 I love him for making it okay.  He looks at me for a moment, then
turns to start taking out all the parts of the telescope.

"So, what do you say you help me set this thing up and we create some
new memories for me, huh?" he says in a tone a thousand times lighter
than where we have just been.

I follow his lead.  "Now Mulder, that telescope is for looking at the
stars, not at the neighbors." 

Mulder laughs heartily, a pleasant change from the melancholy scene
we've just played out.  "Right, Scully, I'll try to remember that."

I help Mulder put together the telescope, reading the directions out
loud since he seems to have absolutely no intention of reading them
himself.  Every time I hand Mulder one of the parts, he meets my eyes
with a smile.  Within minutes, we have the scope put together and
attached to its base.

"We'll have to put it in the bedroom I think; there's no way to get
to the window here."  His desk, which is piled with stuff, is in
front of the only window in his living room.  I follow him into the
bedroom and plant myself on his bed while he sets up the scope.

I watch him as he looks through the eyepiece, his back hunched over,
his legs wide apart in stance.  I can only see him in profile, but
his brows are furrowed in concentration and he is biting down on his
lower lip.  After several minutes of scanning the skies, he finally
speaks. "God, this is incredible, Scully.  I forgot how beautiful it
could be.  Have a look."  He motions me over to the telescope.

"It's set right now so you can see Venus."  I look through the
eyepiece at the twinkling planet and am surprised how much bigger it
is through the telescope.  I really had no idea what I was buying and
how good it would be.  There's a surprising clarity and detail, even
from millions of miles away.

"Move up and to the left slightly," Mulder instructs me, stepping up
behind me and placing his hands on my wrists to help me guide the
telescope, "and you should be able to see a small cluster of tiny
stars in the shape of a triangle.  See them?  See how blue they look
through the scope?  Isn't that incredible?"  Mulder's voice is
enthusiastic and excited, like a child's, and I realize that I have,
after all, chosen the right gift.  

He remains standing behind me as I look in the direction he has led
me.  I had no idea how beautiful the stars could be when seen through
a lens.  I lean away from the eyepiece so Mulder can have a look at
the cluster I've been focused on, and he bends forward while still
standing behind me.  His shoulder brushes mine and he places a hand
on the small of my back as if to signal me to stay where I am.  We
stand that like for a moment, Mulder looking at the stars as I look
at him.  It seems like the story of our whole lives.

After several long seconds, Mulder pulls back and turns his face to
look at me.  "Beautiful," he says sincerely.  "Thank you for giving
me back my stars, Scully."  He gazes at me in a way that I have seen
only once before, in the hallway outside his apartment right before
he was about to kiss me.

I suddenly feel extremely uncomfortable.  "I should go," I tell him
as I step back.  "It's late."

"Okay," Mulder says simply and follows me to the living room.  As I
scoop up my coat and begin to head toward the door, he grabs my arm. 
"Wait, Scully, I have something for you."

I'm surprised, and confused.  "I thought you said you didn't buy me
anything."  Why didn't he say something sooner?  I mean, I'm on my
way out and he just now mentions it?

"I didn't.  I mean, I did, but I've had it for a few months.  I saw
it and it reminded me of you, so I bought it, but I just never gave
it to you.  I guess it didn't seem appropriate, and I wasn't sure
what you'd think.  But I want to give it to you now."

I look at him curiously, thinking how odd it is that he's had a gift
for me all this time.  I wonder what it could possibly be that he
didn't think he could give to me.  Of course, I had the same feeling
about the telescope, but that's different.

Mulder walks over to his desk and rummages through a drawer. 
Finally, he pulls out a small black box.  "I'm sorry it's not
wrapped," he says.  "I didn't know I'd be giving it to you tonight." 
I nod, and Mulder comes to stand in front of me.  I put down my coat
since I don't want to appear to be in a hurry to leave.  I'm
definitely not in a hurry now--Mulder has fully aroused my curiosity.

Without warning he reaches out and touches the cross I wear around my
neck.  He takes it into his hand and caresses it, running his thumb
across the gold, his knuckles rasping over my skin with every stroke
in a way that can only be construed as erotic, at least in my current
state of mind.  "You wear this cross to symbolize your faith and your
trust in that faith," he says softly.  He lets go of the cross and
hands me the box.  "I hope you'll wear this as a symbol of my faith
and my trust."  His eyes move to the floor and then back up to meet
my eyes.  "In you."

My hands tremble as I take the box from him.  His words, the way he
is looking at me, send cold chills up my spine and hot flashes back
down it.  I slowly reach for the lid, trying my best to control the
shaking that reveals how much his words have affected me.  As I
remove the lid, Mulder places a steadying hand on mine and I curse
myself for being so transparently weak and emotional.  

The top of the box finally falls open and I gasp audibly as the light
hits the object nestled in black velvet.  It is a gorgeous pendant of
what looks like a ruby, cut in a heart shape and surrounded by small
diamonds all the way around.  It captures the lights of the room in a
dizzying array that mingles with the weakness that suddenly takes
over my knees.  I stand motionless and speechless, staring at the
beautiful gem before me.

"Mulder, it's . . . "  But the rest of the words won't come, cut off
as they are by a surge of tears that I can no longer hold back
despite all my efforts.

"Scully, what's wrong?  Oh, God.  I'm sorry.  It's too much, isn't
it?  Oh shit.  Scully, I'm so sorry.  I shouldn't have done it.  I
didn't mean to freak you out.  It just reminded me of you--fiery,
sparkling, elegant, hot . . . well, not hot like that.  Not that
you're not hot like that.  I mean, I'm sure some people think so,
but, I mean, that's not what I meant."  

I realize that I'm making Mulder feel guilty and I struggle to get my
words back in order to reassure him.  "It's beautiful.  Really.  I
just never expected this, Mulder."

"It's nothing, Scully," but I know that is a lie.  The necklace is
fabulous, and I know it definitely cost way more than that telescope,
but it's the sentiment that seeps into me and makes me feel woozy. 
His faith in me.  It's that strong?  I had no idea, not really, not
even after all he has said to me, all he has done for me.

Mulder takes the box from me since I'm doing nothing but staring at
it.  "I know you wear that cross, Scully, but maybe sometimes you
could wear this too?"  He removes it from the box and holds it up in
between us.  "My trust in you Scully.  As strong as your faith in
that cross you wear.  Never forget that."  Dear God, I feel like I'm
going to pass out.  This is so unreal.  Mulder looks at me
questioningly.  I nod agreement through my tears and resist the urge
I have to throw myself into his arms.  Instead, I pull myself
together and turn around so Mulder can put the necklace on me.

He raises his arms over my head to string the pendant around my neck,
then attaches the clasp in the back, his fingers again brushing
against me, this time at the back of my neck, the place where so much
illness and tragedy have been born to me.

"Let me see," he says hoarsely and I turn around to face him 
"Dazzling," he says, although his eyes have not left my face.  I feel
the blush rising, so I look down to see the ruby hanging a few inches
below my cross, just the right amount of distance.  How did he know
how well it would fit?  How did he know it would hang just perfectly
so that I could wear them both at the same time?

"Thank you," I say, not seeming to be able to come up with anything
better.  

"As forever as the stars you've given me, Scully," he says, reaching
out and centering the pendant below my collarbone.

That sends me over the edge once and for all and I burst into tears,
sobbing against Mulder's chest as he pulls me into his arms and holds
me so tightly I can feel the muscles in his arms taut against me.

"Jesus, Scully, it's just a necklace," he teases and I can feel him
smiling as he rests his jaw on the top of my head.

"And it was just a telescope, Mulder," I say, my sobs receding in the
protection of his arms.  He says nothing, just tightens his hold on
me.

Then, in a shaky whisper that I can barely hear, "It isn't just a
telescope, Scully."

I pull back so I can look into his eyes which are sparkling with the
tears that I have allowed release but he hasn't.  "And it's not just
a necklace," I whisper back.  He smiles a wide grin and nods his head
in understanding.


END

___________


feedback to: sbarringer@usa.net

All my fanfic available on my webpage:
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