‘Tis The Season…



“Ding dong merrily on high…”


“Hmph. What?” Skinner opened his eyes blearily to find his lover prancing around the bedroom naked except for a sprig of strategically placed mistletoe.


“Oh come all ye faithful…” Mulder emphasised the second word with a suggestive leer.


“Mulder why are you so obscenely cheerful?” Skinner groaned, pulling a pillow over his head.


“It’s Christmas Eve, Walter. Where’s your Christmas spirit?”


“In the whisky bottle – where it belongs?” Skinner suggested.


“‘Tis the season to be jolly…” Mulder sang happily, pulling the sheets off his lover. “Come on, Walter. Time to decorate our tree.”








Mulder danced Skinner around the tree, singing loudly. “‘Rocking around, the Christmas tree…’ Walter? What are you doing?” Mulder gazed quizzically at the handcuff that held him secured tightly to the tree.


Skinner placed a garland around his lover’s head, and bestowed a kiss on his nose.


“You were in danger of combusting internally due to an overdose of seasonal goodwill, Mulder,” he shook his head sadly. “If you’re good I’ll let you go in an hour or so.”


“And if I’m bad?” Mulder pouted.


“Then I’m afraid, my little Rudolph, that Santa might need to get out his reindeer whip…”













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