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11 December 2005 00:40![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cog_nomenI feel this is my weakest offering. Oh well, everyone has a dud from time to time, and I'm afraid I couldn't convey what I really wanted to with this piece.
Fandom: X-Files
Theme: Surprise
Rating: G
The dreary little closet that had hosted the X-files department was downright festive. Monica had found some hideous alien head lights and blow up green men, and hung them around the office. Scully, in a sudden fit of inspiration, had purchased Santa hats to go on each green head. Mulder had also gotten into the spirit, wittily hanging a sprig of mistletoe over each alien.
"Gotta keep up our foreign relations," He'd joked slyly at Scully, planting a big smooch on the alien's plastic, mouthless face.
Doggett's desk now bore a Poinsettia, prettily straining to be the one normal Christmas decoration in the room. It was drooping - probably due to the complete lack of natural light in the basement office.
Unanimously, they'd decided to have a Christmas get-together here. The office had pulled them close, filled with memories of things that no one else might ever see. They sat in a circle with beer, wine, and festive party foods. Somehow, Mulder got drunk first.
"No, I mean it. Maybe Santa Claus is an alien." Before anyone could protest, he held up a hand, his beer bottle curled in all the fingers except for the index, which was extended to indicate a point. "Think about it, how else could he get around the world so fast? The red lights aren't reindeer noses."
"Santa Claus mythology has been around for hundreds of years," Scully tried to rationalize.
"UFO's have been depicted in thousand year old tribal artifacts," Mulder smiled, had another sip of beer.
"But they -aren't- piloted by jolly fat men in red suits, nor pulled by eight flying reindeer, tiny or no." Dogget was about three beers shy of tolerating nonsense. He'd been taking things slowly, practically, with an eye for moderation.
Reyes pressed another beer into his hands, kicking her feet up on his desk. He started to protest, but she spoke over him. "It's a party!" she exclaimed. "But it doesn't feel right yet."
Scully took advantage of the lull in the conversation to pull a wrapped tube out from under her chair. She handed it over to Mulder, who looked at her inquisitively. "It's a star chart," she explained. For a moment, he just looked incredulous.
"What?" she asked.
"I didn't even get to start tearing the paper off." He let the tube drop slightly, then braced it between his knees. "Now I have to -pretend- to be surprised."
"Surprises are only important when you're a kid," Doggett admonished.
Mulder played deaf, and ripped into the wrapping paper with enthusiasm. When he pulled the promised star chart out of the tube, his face affected a caricature of amazement. "Oh, Scully." He said, emotionless. "A star chart. I never guessed. What a surprise." He handed over his gift, thanking her. Scully took it into her lap.
"What is it?" she asked, without touching the paper.
Mulder threw up his hands in exasperation. "Scully," he said, evenly. "You're ruining Christmas."
"I'll be surprised when you tell me," She tried, grinning.
"That's not part of the romance of Christmas spirit." Mulder scolded, unfurling his star chart and eyeing the walls for a place where it would fit. "Besides, I took extra time to wrap it well."
"You're awfully childish about Christmas," John interjected, about halfway through the beer Monica had pressed on him.
She seemed ready to pounce him with another as soon as he finished.
Mulder's eyes lit up mischievously. Star chart across his lap, he leaned back, hooking one arm over the top of his chair. "What's so wrong about that?" He held his hands up. "You never had a Christmas morning where you couldn't sleep all the night before, excited about the tree, and the gifts, and the food, and seeing how other people reacted to what you got them? I mean, there's something magical about that," Mulder fairly purred, remembering. "Sneaking down the stairs when you were sure your parents were asleep, to see what was there. What had happened when you were finally too exhausted to keep your eyes open."
"Well, sure, there's nothing wrong with that," Doggett meant to continue with 'if you're a kid'. Mulder cut him off, leaning forward as if his point were proven.
"Except that you can't see the world that way anymore?" Mulder had a rare moment of insight. Doggett just looked unhappy.
"Because that's not how it is." Doggett stared at Mulder, still two beers shy of anything other than frankness.
"Your world is how you define it," Mulder elaborated, drunk to lucidity. "With a positive spin or a negative, that's up to you."
"It'd be nice if it worked that way-"
"Open it, Scully, I'm going crazy!" Reyes interjected, disrupting the argument.
When all the paper came off, it was from the star registry, informing Scully that she had one of the stars registered in her name.
"Bring it here," Mulder said, smilingly. "And I'll show you where it is on the star chart."
Fandom: X-Files
Theme: Surprise
Rating: G
The dreary little closet that had hosted the X-files department was downright festive. Monica had found some hideous alien head lights and blow up green men, and hung them around the office. Scully, in a sudden fit of inspiration, had purchased Santa hats to go on each green head. Mulder had also gotten into the spirit, wittily hanging a sprig of mistletoe over each alien.
"Gotta keep up our foreign relations," He'd joked slyly at Scully, planting a big smooch on the alien's plastic, mouthless face.
Doggett's desk now bore a Poinsettia, prettily straining to be the one normal Christmas decoration in the room. It was drooping - probably due to the complete lack of natural light in the basement office.
Unanimously, they'd decided to have a Christmas get-together here. The office had pulled them close, filled with memories of things that no one else might ever see. They sat in a circle with beer, wine, and festive party foods. Somehow, Mulder got drunk first.
"No, I mean it. Maybe Santa Claus is an alien." Before anyone could protest, he held up a hand, his beer bottle curled in all the fingers except for the index, which was extended to indicate a point. "Think about it, how else could he get around the world so fast? The red lights aren't reindeer noses."
"Santa Claus mythology has been around for hundreds of years," Scully tried to rationalize.
"UFO's have been depicted in thousand year old tribal artifacts," Mulder smiled, had another sip of beer.
"But they -aren't- piloted by jolly fat men in red suits, nor pulled by eight flying reindeer, tiny or no." Dogget was about three beers shy of tolerating nonsense. He'd been taking things slowly, practically, with an eye for moderation.
Reyes pressed another beer into his hands, kicking her feet up on his desk. He started to protest, but she spoke over him. "It's a party!" she exclaimed. "But it doesn't feel right yet."
Scully took advantage of the lull in the conversation to pull a wrapped tube out from under her chair. She handed it over to Mulder, who looked at her inquisitively. "It's a star chart," she explained. For a moment, he just looked incredulous.
"What?" she asked.
"I didn't even get to start tearing the paper off." He let the tube drop slightly, then braced it between his knees. "Now I have to -pretend- to be surprised."
"Surprises are only important when you're a kid," Doggett admonished.
Mulder played deaf, and ripped into the wrapping paper with enthusiasm. When he pulled the promised star chart out of the tube, his face affected a caricature of amazement. "Oh, Scully." He said, emotionless. "A star chart. I never guessed. What a surprise." He handed over his gift, thanking her. Scully took it into her lap.
"What is it?" she asked, without touching the paper.
Mulder threw up his hands in exasperation. "Scully," he said, evenly. "You're ruining Christmas."
"I'll be surprised when you tell me," She tried, grinning.
"That's not part of the romance of Christmas spirit." Mulder scolded, unfurling his star chart and eyeing the walls for a place where it would fit. "Besides, I took extra time to wrap it well."
"You're awfully childish about Christmas," John interjected, about halfway through the beer Monica had pressed on him.
She seemed ready to pounce him with another as soon as he finished.
Mulder's eyes lit up mischievously. Star chart across his lap, he leaned back, hooking one arm over the top of his chair. "What's so wrong about that?" He held his hands up. "You never had a Christmas morning where you couldn't sleep all the night before, excited about the tree, and the gifts, and the food, and seeing how other people reacted to what you got them? I mean, there's something magical about that," Mulder fairly purred, remembering. "Sneaking down the stairs when you were sure your parents were asleep, to see what was there. What had happened when you were finally too exhausted to keep your eyes open."
"Well, sure, there's nothing wrong with that," Doggett meant to continue with 'if you're a kid'. Mulder cut him off, leaning forward as if his point were proven.
"Except that you can't see the world that way anymore?" Mulder had a rare moment of insight. Doggett just looked unhappy.
"Because that's not how it is." Doggett stared at Mulder, still two beers shy of anything other than frankness.
"Your world is how you define it," Mulder elaborated, drunk to lucidity. "With a positive spin or a negative, that's up to you."
"It'd be nice if it worked that way-"
"Open it, Scully, I'm going crazy!" Reyes interjected, disrupting the argument.
When all the paper came off, it was from the star registry, informing Scully that she had one of the stars registered in her name.
"Bring it here," Mulder said, smilingly. "And I'll show you where it is on the star chart."