Title: Gold Embossing Author: Christina Email: christinalynne1227@yahoo.com Classification: V, A Keywords: Skinner POV Rating: PG, for a couple of mild curse words Spoilers: Requiem, but nothing specific for season 8 Archive: Yes please, but let me know, if you can, so I can come visit. Disclaimer: The X-Files and its characters belong to CC, Fox, and 1013 Productions. No infringement intended. Summary: And now I find myself, three days before Christmas, wrapping a present I picked out for Agent Scully. Author's notes at end. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Gold Embossing by Christina ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It's been a hell of a holiday season. Who am I kidding? It's been a hell of a year. For some reason, I find myself looking especially forward to the new year, the new millennium. I've been trying to stay grounded, my nose to the grindstone, but for some reason, I'm finding myself drawn closer and closer to her. It's a bigger burden than you'd think, carrying around her secret. I have no goddamned idea how she's done it for all these months. But as hard as it's been, I still remember how my heart swelled with some unknown emotion when she told me what precious thing was within her. Yes, I was shocked, but after I got over it, I became...I don't know...protective, I guess. I've tried not to bring any suspicion, I hope I've been successful. And with the protectiveness came...warmth. Warmth. Affection. Concern. Loyalty. Any of these things in and of itself is not a big deal. But this is Scully we're talking about. And these feelings of friendship began to drift...in a direction I cannot control. It's a fine line, a balancing act. How do I take care of Scully without her realizing I'm taking care of her? How can I get closer to her without jeopardizing our working relationship? And Mulder. Don't think I don't have guilt about Mulder. Enough guilt for a thousand lifetimes. But there is only so much that even an Assistant Director to the FBI can do. I hope both Scully and Mulder forgive me for that. But Scully is my here, my now. She is my main concern. When Mulder comes back, I'll worry about that then. And now I find myself, three days before Christmas, wrapping a present I picked out for Agent Scully. I hate Christmas shopping. I rarely do it. A lifetime ago, Sharon did all the shopping for us. She knew exactly what to pick out, wrapped things just so, made sure everything was off to UPS on time. She signed the Christmas cards from both of us, decorated the house, did the baking. All I ever had to do was buy a gift for her. I'm wrapping a gift to another woman. It's been a long time. My hands tremble slightly while I try to tie the bow into a respectable knot. I've picked out what I hope is nice paper--thick gold, embossed with swirls and stars. I've topped it off with gold ribbon. I hope Scully likes it. I've gone to pains to make the edges come out right, not too much tape, the corners nice and crisp. These are things I think Scully will notice. But what about what's inside? Is that what counts? Or is it the thought? Will Scully know my thoughts, my feelings, my intentions? Before I'm completely unnerved, I make my way to my car, present tucked under one arm. The drive to her apartment does not take nearly long enough. I sit out in front, watching the shadows from inside her apartment. I feel weird, watching her like this. Before I start to feel like a pervert, I grab the gift and leave the car. In the hallway, I start to sweat. Feeling like a fool, I wipe my hand over my forehead, then straighten my tie. My steps slow as I reach her door. More nervous than I've been in a long time, I debate what to do next. Do I knock and have her let me in? She'll ask me in, she's polite. But then I'd have to answer her questioning look by presenting my gift to her. Then she'd probably insist on opening it there, in front of me. I can't do it. There's no way I can face that kind of firing squad. She'll either love it or hate it--either welcome my advances or bring them to a screeching halt. I'll screw everything up. It'll change things. Scully will look at me differently. And it will never be the way she looked at Mulder. Having made up my mind, I place the box on the floor at her door. I take a deep breath and knock, once, twice. I hear Scully's muffled "Who's there?" and with my heart in my stomach, I rush from the hallway and out into the early evening. Merry Christmas, Scully. ~End~ Author's notes: I have no idea where this came from. But here it is. Hope you enjoyed. Big thanks to my beta, Triton, and to all the cool gals at XScenes. You guys are the greatest. What did Skinner get Scully? I don't know that, either. If you have any ideas, let me know at: christinalynne1227@yahoo.com Visit my other stories at: http://www.geocities.com/christinalynne1227