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randomfoggytiger · 7 months ago

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Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part VII): Trickery, Terror, and Tears

Mulder and Scully have, overall, managed to navigate his return from the dead rather well.

The distance put between them is constructed from his guilt and shame, not misplaced or irrational anger. He knows, logically, the baby is his (posts here and here); and she's backed off from bringing it up for the sake of his recovery. He's sneaked into the basement and sneaked into the evidence room and sneaked in a shove (to Doggett); and she's sneaked along (disapprovingly) after him.

But there's a bit of a shift that happens here: boundaries are clarified, and Mulder and Scully follow faulty personal decisions to their dissatisfactory ends (and also share tender angst and another near-death experience. What else is new on The X-Files?)

WALKING THROUGH (FIRE)WALLS

Back in the saddle, Mulder is alive with the scent of the chase, nodding and swiveling his eyes from one talking head to another as Scully and the Lone Gunmen fill him in. He has, indeed, found something big.

“All right, what are you boys waitin’ for, get crackin’.”

It’s Frohike who pumps the breaks: “Unless you think we’re all idiots, it’s only Langly who’s the idiot.”

Mulder, pulled up short, looks at the guys in confusion while Langly decries the allegations brought against his expertise.

Frohike, meanwhile moves further down the table to look over Langly’s shoulder… but also to stand next to Scully. (During the rest of this conversation, he and she will exchange loaded glances that are very interesting.)

Scully shifts around as she uncomfortably explains that nearly impenetrable firewalls were recently constructed, making it not only increasingly difficult but also exponentially more dangerous to hack the system.

“And why do that?” Mulder’s rhetorical is filled with muted ire, and a thrilled, sarcastic little smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth. He’s ready to dig up more information, track down more villains, and shove them back into their chairs (ala the Doggett treatment here.)

It's here that Frohike and Scully begin to share subtle glances: the Lone Gunmen will try to keep Mulder off the field; but the burden of talking him out of it falls solely to her.

We, the audience, later find out that TLG and Scully had an off-screen conversation, concluding that Mulder needs to be kept off the case. However, Mulder’s findings have proven to be substantial; and Frohike’s serious, firmly resolved expression is showing his change of heart-- letting Scully know that, if Mulder pursues the truth, the guys will back him up. Scully sees this; and, frustrated, looks to the others for confirmation before sighing.

“Because I’m right,” Mulder crows, delighted to have his instincts proven once again.

He’s back. And he is. And Scully is aware of this, is aware that TLG are aware of this, is aware that something needs to be done and by someone. She is also aware that Mulder is insisting he be that someone-- and right now, Scully is convinced Mulder's not ready for hero work.

Scully wanted him back on the X-Files with her, like old times; but since Mulder’s apathy, his sudden desire for reinstatement, and his prickly insistence on charging ahead without listening to reason, she now believes (correctly) that this mission is tainted with dark intentions and darker outcomes for her partner.

At Mulder’s “Because they would kill to protect what’s in those files,” everyone becomes fidgety.

“Unless you’ve got a password,” Byers stipulates, “we don't any way short of that of getting a hold of this data.”

“And the thing is, even if you have a passcode, you’d still have to break into the FFC just to use it,” Langly adds, a nice little period to the other’s statement.

The camera shoots from Byers’s watchful, appraising stare of Mulder to Mulder’s befuddled reaction as he tries to process why the guys wouldn’t consider breaking into the FCC as a matter of course.

Then Langly-- true to Frohike’s claims of idiocy-- reveals the hidden agenda: “We all agree. You’re going to have to let this one go.”

Mulder takes a moment to respond, scratching at his face as confusion morphs into anger. He feels placated rather than respected: that Scully has overstepped in her zeal to protect him.

“Oh. I see.”

Mulder turns the full weight of his rebuke at Scully-- a first in the entire episode. Before, any flare of irritation had been extinguished by her support, reason, and even humor; but now… now he’s caught her plotting behind his back with the expectation that it’d go right over his head. It’s such poorly executed manipulation that it irritates more than angers or upsets; but if not for his instinctive understanding of Scully, Mulder might have felt truly hurt or betrayed. Instead, he feels coddled and head-ruffled; and responds in kind.

“Somebody’s been doing a little campaigning for her cause,” he smirks. It’s a warning more than a flat-out accusation-- this is a line you do not cross-- that directly addresses Scully’s actions and indirectly references her underlying motivation (i.e. Mulder being around for the baby.)

Scully is taken aback by how quickly she was caught out, opening her mouth and looking over at TLG (possibly to fumble together an excuse.)

Mulder ends the conversation with, “Well, just remember boys this is America-- just because you get more votes doesn’t mean you win” before turning from TLG to Scully, letting his meaning sink in with a pointed staredown.

Now the question is: did his remark wound Scully? No-- nor did he intend it to-- because she is exasperated (even a touch amused) instead of hurt or ashamed. The distinction is crucial; and lays groundwork for the next scene.

NOT EVERYTHING IS CHANGED

After the Lone Gunmen leave, Scully is caught outside her apartment by Doggett, who eagerly fills her in on the (very conveniently handed over and named) password. Conflicted, torn, and fearful over having the responsibility to tell her partner herself and potentially lose him (or not tell him and potentially lose him anyway), she trudges back inside with tears nearly spilling from her eyes.

Freezing just inside the doorway, she turns her head side-to but stays still and silent. For all intents and purposes, Scully stares at Mulder like she’s seen a ghost (or will again, if we factor in her partner’s spectral form in This Is Not Happening.)

The music softens as we pivot to Mulder, who is hunched over his computer, guard down, silent himself: likely staring with dwindling hope after his and the Lone Gunmen’s fruitless attempts. It’s an all-too-rare look into Mulder’s state: fragility that he covers up with distance or constant movement-- the look of a man who'd rather sit in his apartment than seek reinstatement.

In this frame of mind, he looks up, taking a half-second to focus fully in the present.

“Scully, what are you doing here?” he asks, expression guarded but voice soft and intrigued.

It’s another incredibly rare glimpse into Mulder and Scully’s Three Words off-screen dynamic: his question zeros in on her, not the case; and, while more open and interested than we have seen him, Mulder still bolts upright and scoots back into a less vulnerable position. Work is stabilizing him-- which explains why Scully lobbied for Mulder to come back to the FBI as soon as she did-- and his interest in Scully’s comings-and-goings are an extension of his gratitude and buried tenderness.

When Scully turns fully, Mulder jumps to his feet, on-edge with worry: “Did something just happen?” he demands, walking swiftly over with dangerous intent for whoever bothered or hurt her.

“I’m… um…,” she begins.

Mulder reacts to her vulnerability: he tents his eyebrows, loosens his jaw slightly, and bites his lip briefly.

After Scully evens out her shaky voice, she replies, “I’m not exactly sure I should tell you, Mulder.”

On the heels of her secret meddling earlier that day, It’s the worst thing Scully could have said.

He blinks, gathers his thoughts, and says, “Scully, if you know something that can get us moving forward again, then you need to tell me” with increasing frustration. Mulder has never taken kindly to being kept in the dark, especially concerning important mytharc information-- in fact, most of their professional (and personal) fights bloomed from either his stubbornness or her purposed silence. Now that it’s of life-or-death importance to him to end these abductions, Scully quibbling over sharing important information with him is stretching the last of his patience thin. Still, he doesn’t handle her roughly: insistent, but not angry; sharp, but not caustic; demanding the truth but not prying it out of her.

Scully is even more shaken, knowing she can’t keep this from him but wishing, deep-down, she could. The last six months have stripped her of her past denial: she is no longer able to fool herself with half-truths or half-hearted ignorance-- and she was never good at lying to Mulder, regardless.

So, she tells him the truth. Unfortunately for them both, it's actually a lie.

MULDER'S SOUL LAID BARE, PART ONE

By the time Doggett shows up to save the day, Mulder's already hacked into the system and is working fast and furious towards (what he believes to be) the truth. He ignores the other man's ferocious banging and warnings, turning once towards the door to take in the view before turning back to the task at hand; and brushes off Frohike's concerned question with a flippant, "Just a fly buzzing around the window."

Doggett shoots the glass out and Mulder startles, staring blankly in his direction while the Lone Gunmen react in pain on the other end of the line. It's an interesting symptom of Mulder’s months of torment: an underreaction to milder forms of pain or fright (the opposite of his typical response.) When no other shots are fired, he, again, turns to the computer while Doggett, closer now, implores him to get to safety.

Mulder's response perfectly exemplifies the turmoil, pain, resentment, bitterness, and fear he is fighting with: nearly in tears-- and without meaning to-- he lays his soul bare: “I think you’re trying to keep this information from ever seeing the light of day just like you did with this before, Agent Doggett. That’s what I think. …[A lot of other people] Are going to learn they’ve been targeted because of their genetic profiles for abduction....”

He pauses, tightening his mouth for a split second before continuing in an increasingly distanced voice-- “and replacement by alien facsimiles.”

He swallows another wave of emotion while flippantly asking, “What’d you say we start with the Washington Post?”

It’s painfully obvious that this mission is about righting the wrongs done to him, more so than exposing the truth. And that’s not a bad thing-- it’s a reckless thing, with so many variables that can (and will) go wrong because of the willful abandon with which he’s acting out.

The only other time Season 8 tackles Mulder's fears to this transparent depth are in his opening monologue in Essence-- too few moments for such a potentially rich, complex storyline.

“You can believe whatever you want, but that information’s never going to make it outta here,” Doggett warns.

“What are you gonna do, shoot me?” Mulder sarcastically snipes, daring him to do so. He isn’t surprised when the other man doesn’t, figuring Doggett’s intentions aren’t lethal because there isn't a bullet already lodged in his head.

The cavalry shows up; and Scully calls in, telling the Lone Gunmen to get Mulder out of the building.

Mulder immediately blames Doggett-- who had brought Scully the password-- but continues his reckless truth seeking, accepting that his life may very well end in a matter of minutes. When Doggett tries to pull Mulder off the computer, he fights back, then sinks down to continue typing. (This dynamic between them builds on itself in Vienen, when Mulder doesn't want to die.)

It’s pretty clear Mulder is willing to perish for this truth; and Doggett, realizing the gravity of the situation, gets eye-level in a last attempt to get through to him.

“If I set you up, I wouldn’t be here trying to convince you to go. They’re coming to kill you-- they’re gonna kill me, too. That’s the setup.”

Mulder drops his deaf pretense after Langly’s voice pipes through, confirming that it’s useless to pursue this data; and he looks up at his hated rival with clearer, eyes, only shifting them away when yelling over Byers’s fumbles for an escape route.

The last we see of him is their quiet escape through the ceiling.

CONCLUSION

Mulder and Scully drive away (together or separately) have a conversation, maybe some space, and iron out a few things between them. ...We'll never know what those things were exactly; but we'll be making a deduction or two as we go. That conversation had to, at least in part, address his PTSD symptoms and recovery; though, again, to what extent we'll never know.

Personally, I believe Mulder and Scully laid out a plan post Three Words; and part of that plan involved him putting the pieces of his life back together in paperwork and therapy. (Perhaps that's why Scully thanked him for joining her in Lamaze-- because he rescheduled a therapy appointment for her.) Who knows?

Inferences can (and will) be made about the missing scenes between this episode and Empedocles; but those will be explored in the next post. Until then...

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma #In-Depth #Part VII #Trickery Terror and Tears #xf meta #meta #xfiles #x-files #the x files #S8 #Three Words #Mulder #Scully #TLG #Doggett #mine

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randomfoggytiger · 1 year ago

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How the Ghosts Stole Christmas In-Depth (Part VII): Mulder Will Never Let Go

The last part is here at last-- here we go!

We pick up with either Maurice or Lyda popping on a background vinyl as the ghosts prepare for the FBI agents' lethal gun down (my bets are on Lyda.)

Scully wakes with another flash of lightning and crack of thunder, turning her head and slowly coming to life. Immediately, she gets up and starts crawling back to her escape: she’s a fighter, she won’t give up, she won’t let this thing beat her.

Mulder, meanwhile, crumples his way downstairs… which means he somehow crawled up that ladder, mounted the second story, and wobbled his way through the door, down the hall, and to the stairs with a gunshot wound (perhaps that should have been the giveaway.)

Also: I noticed brown patches on the front of his pant-thigh… did he have those before? They disappear after this scene... so, are they blood stains or padding for David Duchovny?

Fatigue and desperation warring for supremacy, Mulder drags himself face-first down the rest of the steps; and, after scraping himself along to the main foyer, finds Scully’s snail trail of blood nearly beating him to the exit.

The song the ghosts chose just happen to be singing “From now on our troubles will be miles away--” as the two agents' paths collide with their weapons handily close by.

Even with all this bad blood between them, Mulder still calls out a hesitant “Scully?” when he sees her collapsed body. This effort is too much for him, and as he collapses as well.

Snail Scully is on the move, not responding as adrenaline gives her a little boost to get going again… especially since Mulder-- the (as she currently sees him), raving lunatic-- is inch-worming his way closer.

“Scully,” he calls out again in agony.

She knows she’s not going to make it out of the house; but that doesn’t mean she won’t go down without fighting for her dignity, even against Mulder (perhaps even for Mulder.) Scully may not live, but her death will be on her terms; and she’s not going to let Mulder make that choice for her, half out of his mind or not.

Abdominal crunches are no joke, and a shot to the gut on top of it makes everything worse… but none of that matters to a Scully in survival mode.

As Scully pulls up her gun, Mulder raises his own gun-- not surprised so much as stressed and frustrated with the seemingly insane choices his partner keeps making.

“Pfff… I’m not gonna make it,” Scully admits, eyes fluttering in defeat.

“Nno, you’re not,” Mulder snaps, repressed anger surging to the surface; and he refocuses with deadly intent, “Not without me you’re not.”

And here we see the touch of madness to old Spooky: drawn to the romanticism of a Lover’s Pact, he was betrayed by the only person he trusted; and his corpse was about to be left for dead. Maurice so effectively got into his head and twisted his darkest fears-- Scully leaving him-- that he cannot see past his own pain and fear to notice that he’s acting out what his partner is afraid of: dragging her down into the depths of madness with him. He WILL be avenged: Scully’s shot (unlike Anasazi) was an act of selfishness which robbed him of a chance to find closure for his sister, the ultimate treachery. The one person he relied on to be selflessly steadfast and loyal (which the ghosts spun into purely consuming and self-absorbed motives) was, again, the one who gutted him, like all the others before her.

But does that stop Mulder from wanting Scully for all haunted eternity? No: just as Mulder fell for Phoebe’s tricks and settled for Diana, so too will he cling to Scully until there is nothing corporeal left. And Scully, ordinarily, feels wanted and needed and “whole” being consumed; until she looks about, finds half her life gone and nothing to show for it except an ouroboros. Mulder is satisfied with second (in this case, hundredth) best, clinging unhealthily to what he believes makes him happy, or at least secure… or at least is close enough to happiness that he can endure it and try to be content.

Scully lets out a gasp of pain (and fear); and decides to get to the heart of the issue. It takes guts (heh), but there’s no denial left to hide behind. “Are you afraid, Mulder?”

Maurice has told her he is; Lyda has told her he is; and Mulder has been told he is (and he is, to an extent.) But Scully asks him if he is: she must have proof, yes, but she also will always ask and listen to Mulder when no one else will.

He says nothing, only grips the gun with both hands and inches even closer.

With another gasp of pain, Scully falls back and, metaphorically, breaks the first part of the curse with her courageous and trusting admission: “I am.”

Mulder turns away, his hands loosening their grip as her confession seeps in, hurting and healing at the same time. “I am, too,” he says in a soft, vulnerable murmur.

Scully takes another first step, clunking her gun down (with safety in mind) and fully giving in to the pain of death. Mulder turns on his back, too, mirroring his partner’s actions.

His anger has not abated, however, redirecting itself into chastisement-- bickering over the truth to the last. “You should have thought of this.”

“You should have,” Scully bites. She is not taking the blame for this sordid misadventure when she did nothing wrong and advised him against it.

“YOU SHOT ME,” Mulder yells, enraged that the truth is being denied even on Death’s doorstep.

“I didn’t shoot you, you shot me,” Scully counters, her voice even, unwilling to be taunted into a screaming match during her final moments… but not willing to have Mulder’s ridiculous assumptions be the last word on the matter.

This is a full-blown domestic fight, courtesy of Chris Carter.

Mulder’s brilliant mind makes all the connections in literally four seconds, staring at himself, then Scully; then back at himself to test his theory. Poking at bloody, gooey crime scenes has always been a pastime of his, anyway.

“Scully,” he perks up, way too much zest in his voice for a man who took a slug to the stomach. After Scully’s “What?”, he upgrades from inchworm to upright seal, plopping his gut to the floor with careless abandon; then rises to his knees, a jubilant smile on his face as he slaps the illusion blood on his chest.

Ahh, Lyda, you almost got ‘im.

“Get up,” Mulder commands, slip-sliding his way to his feet.

Scully immediately protests. “I can’t,” she stresses, emphasizing the last word as a pointed reminder.

Looming over her triumphantly, Mulder visually demonstrates: “We’re not shot."

Scully, covered and rolling around in her own leaking blood, asks, “...WHAT?”

Ecstatic (and a little bit crazy with relief), Mulder gently reaches for her. “C’mon,” he cajoles, helping his partner off the floor.

Her mind starting to implode with all the hoops it's jumped through in the last hour, Scully passively lets Mulder hoist her dying body up and slap his bloody mitts to her wound, proving to her rational mind that this, at least, is real enough.

And now for a tenderly romantic scene from Mulder’s perspective and an absolutely mind-melding one from Scully’s:

Mulder has a dark thought-- this happy ending might have a twist to it-- and leaps for the door, pulling a barely-processing Scully firmly along with him.

By the time they bolt outside, she’s gained her independent stride, both awed and spooked with her partner over their fresh, clean clothes. He, wisely, continues their winning streak and runs with her across the lawn, booking it to his car without looking back (but waiting until Scully’s car is turned on before hightailing it away from the mansion.)

Midnight strikes-- another failure for the year.

“Two such lonely souls…” Lyda ruminates, contemplative and moody.

“Can’t let our failures haunt us,” Maurice says amicably, self-awareness at an absolute zero.

Lyda admits to the game: “Do you wonder what they were really out here looking for?”

“Hard to say. People now… this is just another joyless day of the year.”

“Not for us,” Lyda reflects, the bitterness of her talk with Mulder melting away. She’d rather be dead and old with Maurice than playing eternal mind games with handsome, haunted young men.

“We haven’t forgotten the meaning of Christmas,” he agrees.

It’s Lyda who reaches out first, Maurice clasping her hand tenderly with his own; and the two vanish, awash in the glow of love and Christmas joy.

It’s their own twisted way to bring love together, seeing eternal restless and devious acts as a conspiracy all their own; one that Mulder and Scully had to beat together.

Back in Mulder’s lonely apartment, he’s interrupted from his dreary, morose mental contemplations (where he sits in front of while not watching an old black-and-white Scrooge laugh over not deserving so much happiness) by an unexpected knock on his door. It’s so unexpected that Mulder’s sudden happiness is doused with suspicion. He peeks from his living room warily, mulls over his next move, and decides to investigate.

Doubling back, Mulder clicks off the tv, taps his living room doorway posts (for good luck-- knock on wood? nervous energy both?) before launching into the unknown.

It’s Scully-- and she looks both annoyed and amused with herself over her inevitable pitstop.

“I, uh…” she casts about for an excuse, pivoting her eyes away from Mulder while scrambling. Finally she gives up, surrendering to the clumsy truth (hunching her shoulders up, squinting at her smooth ineptitude, knowing her upcoming question will be awkward for them both.) She heaves a big, dramatic sigh-- “Can I come in?”

“Yeah--” Mulder says too quickly, guiding Scully in by her shoulder, a soothing gesture for the both of them (in fact, for him it passes from soothing straight to thinly concealed joy.)

Still. Mulder has to know, ever dedicated to finding the answers: “Aren’t you supposed to be opening Christmas presents with your family?”

And here’s the set up to unwrapping presents between the two of them as an acknowledged family. Mulder and Scully have yet to claim or label the family tag-- Mulder because he doesn’t know what he can claim of Scully or even what he can offer, and Scully because she doesn’t know how much Mulder will let himself claim and she’s not going to be rejected ala The Beginning again-- but their confessions and unspoken affirmations by the end of the scene seal the deal in a way only the two of them can do. It's a little extra gift of their own.

“Mulder,” Scully begins, swinging away from his dark and undecorated living room (another sacrifice to his Spartan living for his quest-- better to chase aliens or look into haunted mansions than to wade the holiday lines at the nearest department store. Besides, who would stare at the tree with him? His fish?) “None of that really happened out there tonight. …That was all in our heads, right?”

Mulder can work with denial, especially because he was gutted (metaphorically, but also) all night; and he’d rather not get into his new, sinking opinion of his actions.

“Y…must have been.”

“Hm.” Scully mulls over her next thought, not too satisfied with her own experience but feeling she owes Mulder at least a half-baked apology… though for what, she isn’t brave enough to say (yet.) She may be filing the ghosts under hallucinations or paranoia, but Scully is going to dismiss what she thinks are repressed and untrue thoughts of her partner. She pokes a little at herself-- “Not that, uh… my only joy in life is proving you wrong”-- and hopes that Mulder will reassure her that those thoughts never entered his head.

Her teasing brings out Mulder’s natural banter-- “When... have you proven me wrong?”-- but it, too, butts up against Maurice and Lyda's poisonous words. Mulder can be stubborn about his opinions, willing to chase them and ditch Scully if need be; and it leads to her hurt at his dismissals and his anger at her scoffing (ex. The Beginning and Field Trip) That selfish tendency to forget all for the chase ultimately tightens the noose of stagnation around Scully's throat: when he does so, it leaves her foolishly floundering for answers, feeling like she contributes nothing and only slows down Mulder's work.

But tonight is not about the noose for Scully: tonight is about stamping out Mulder's joy just to get a cheap thrill of self-importance: “Well… why else would you want me out there with you?”

Fascinating: it’s early S6-- after The End shattered her confidence and FTF restored it, after The Beginning struck away her importance to the work and Drive reestablished it, after water boy tossed an “I love you” in Triangle but dropped the “normal life” cue in Dreamland I-- so this episode isn’t about Scully’s stagnation like Never Again-Milagro-All Things are: it’s about realizing her lonely, lovely man knows that, yes, she’s sticking around… but can only guess at how long.

Mulder is touched by her Starbuck-ism: wanting to always be there, his helping hand, lovingly spieling away about the connections between lonely people and footsteps in the attic while waving her gun ready to cap anyone that threatens him.

But her lukewarm, unsteady answer only sloshes at the wound’s vicinity rather than cleaning it: “You don’t want to be there?”

Scully sees two options before her: 1. wiggle her way out of a confession or 2. admit. While she is ruminating, torn on her next action, Mulder misinterprets her silence.

“Oh, that’s…um,” he pauses, closing his eyes to search for Maurice’s exact wording. “...self righteous and… narcissistic of me to say, isn’t it?” Mulder adds in a low and burdened voice as he grimaces and swivels his head in self-reproach.

The manipulation of his higher impulses cuts deep, casting his need for Scully in the same box as his thoughtless, single-minded actions. They are not equivocal; but the camaraderie he was enjoying melts away as he sinks back into that self-lashing low his partner had interrupted.

“No, I mean…” Scully trails off, diagnosing the problem she and Mulder are suffering and, like a good doctor, deciding to disinfect it as quickly and efficiently as possible. She’s not used to being the candid open-book in this partnership; but some of the blame does fall on her shoulders; and she won’t let Mulder take his undue share (while she shoulders perhaps more blame than she deserves, too.) “Maybe I did want to be out there with you.”

She turns her earnest little face up, giving Mulder a complete and unprotected look into her soul.

Mulder here completes the role-reversal: he keeps his guard up-- a defensive half-smirk cloaking his reserve-- as he tensely probes Scully’s expression. When she doesn’t waver, he softens, loosening his tense posture and smiling more deeply, touched and honored.

Scully’s had enough ungainly revelations for one night, scrunching her face in discomfort and briefly opening her mouth to answer her partner’s “You know…” while Mulder takes the opportunity to nip over and grab a surprise Christmas present.

“I know we said we weren’t going to...“ Mulder begins sheepishly, swiping it off the tv and shyly avoiding his partner’s eyes, “exchange gifts…but, uh…”

Scully melts, posture slumping and face shifting to touched and inept in the face of his tender-hearted little gift.

“It’s, uh, a little somethin’,” he beams, a little less embarrassed at her reaction.

“Mulder…” she croaks, turning up his gigawatt smile even more.

“Merry Christmas.”

Scully has a little surprise of her own, too-- and boy, does she love surprises-- but not before rolling her eyes, again, at her own antics. She’s hopeless.

“I gotta a little somethin’, too,” she adds, digging his present from her coat; and Mulder’s contentment at her happiness transforms into conspiratorial delight, chuckling deeply in anticipation and of course we both did, Scully.

Shaking the present like a teasing little boy, Mulder entices Scully to the couch-- who takes after him with the same gleeful, naughty delight she had when unwrapping presents with Melissa-- where we get a glimpse of his only decorations: a stocking hanging by the fish and what appears to be a reindeer paperweight to hold it down. Ever a hopeful man, is Mulder.

The camera pans out as Mulder continues to rattle his gift until Scully smiles; and the two of them begin their celebration by tearing into their gifts together-- as it should be.