Things got a little bit better once we emerged from the bathroom. The whole family was gathered around the tree, opening gifts. My lovely wife quickly jumped into the fray, mingling with her siblings, trading brightly colored packages, and doting on her young nephews.   They were all so busy, they hardly took notice of me, which was more than fine.

I stayed back out of the mob and kept an eye on William while he crawled all over the place--well, that's being kind, I suppose. He still didn't quite have the motor skills to be able to crawl with any kind of proficiency; he tended to wobble more than anything else. Still, he was able to get around a bit, and always managed to find trouble wherever he went, so I was quite conscious of keeping him within my sights. Mrs. Scully, meanwhile, was following him around, snapping pictures left and right. 

As I watched Dana open a present from Charlie, I couldn't help myself from envying her. It must've been nice to grow up in a family like this one. Things were never this cheery and merry in my house. Gramma tried, but dad never really got over mom's death, and the holidays just weren't as festive after she was gone. And once Gramma had passed on, we just didn't bother any more. 

Never really celebrated the holidays again until I hooked up with the guys. John loved Christmas, and it was always a kick to see the joy of the season on his face.   He loved the lights and the decorations and the shopping.   He never saw the commercial side of it--for him, Christmas was a return to earlier, more innocent times. As for Langly, well, he was in it for the food and the gifts, both of which made him so happy, almost child-like in his glee. Damn, I didn't realize how much I was gonna miss them--maybe next year, Dana and I could somehow include them, too. 

"Hey, Frohike." I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear Dana right away until she was standing right beside me. "I found a gift under the tree for you."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. Here," and she handed me a fancy-wrapped box. I checked the tag to see who it was from, but all it said was 'Santa'. Had to be Dana. She didn't want me to be left out.  

God, I love this woman.

I carefully unwrapped the beautiful package to find an equally beautiful die-cast model of a 1957 T-bird, perfect down to the last detail. Man, this was even better than the Kennedy box set she had gotten me. "Dana--thank you!"

"Why are you thanking me?" she asked, puzzled.

"Well--didn't you get this for me?"

She just shook her lovely red-maned head. "No, it wasn't me." She looked at the tag, "The handwriting doesn't look familiar. Maybe it really WAS Santa."

"Looks like you got yourself a Christmas X-File on your hands, hon," I joked.   She just laughed, but I was still left standing there, wondering who had given me the car.

Once all the gifts were unwrapped, Mrs. Scully called us all in for dinner. What a spread! Turkey and ham, dressing and homemade cranberry sauce, and more side dishes than you could shake a stick at. Everyone had brought their own specialty--Dana's was mashed sweet potatoes. I had watched her make them, and she had thrown in everything but the kitchen sink. Apparently, it was everyone's favorite dish, because it was the first to go.

Dinner seemed to go on for hours, as we went back for seconds and thirds. Lots of conversation, even more laughter, it was an honor to even be sitting at the table. True to my word, I was on my best behavior. I pretty much stayed to myself, even when I desperately wanted to participate in some of the discussions--knowing how unpopular my opinions would be, however, I refrained.   Dana kept looking over and me, and giving me little encouraging smiles, and I knew she was pleased with me. I so wanted to make a good impression on her family--I didn't care so much if they liked me, I just didn't want to embarrass Dana more than I already had.

As dinner was winding down, I saw Mrs. Scully get up, and start cleaning off the table. Without waiting to be asked, I quickly jumped up as well; grabbing up mine and Dana's things, I followed her mother into the kitchen. Cleaning off the plates, I put them near the sink, then went out for more. I saw the look of surprise and admiration on Dana's face, and knew I was doing the right thing. I again cleaned off the plates in the kitchen, and went back into the dining room to continue my task.

By this time, I had attracted the attention of Dana's brothers, who just looked at me as if I had just arrived from another planet. (Actually, Bill probably thought I had.) I couldn't believe they were just sitting there, waiting for their mom to cater to them. I mean, where were their manners? No matter, I just scooped up some more plates, and headed back to the kitchen.

This time, though, I was stopped from returning to the guests by one Mrs. Margaret Scully. "Mr. Frohike, what are you doing?"

Had I done something wrong? I looked down at the pile of dirty plates in my hands and stated the obvious, "Just helping you with the clean-up."

She chuckled at that. "I was wondering how that table was getting so clean so quickly. That's very kind of you, but you're a guest in my house. You shouldn't be working…"

I went over to the trashcan, and cleaned off the rest of the plates. "Nonsense, Mrs. Scully. You made us a delicious meal. We should all be waiting on you now."

"My!" she gasped. "I wish my boys thought that way."

Last dish scraped clean, I added them to the pile near the sink. "Just the way I was raised, ma'am."

"There's no need to be so formal, Mr. Frohike," she scolded, good-naturedly. "It's Maggie, please."

Well, if she wanted to drop the formalities, I could go along with it. "Ahhh, Frohike here," I corrected her. "Just Frohike."

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed dramatically. "What is it with the men that Dana brings home? They all want to be called by their last names."

"Well, I hate my first name," I explain for about the thousandth time in my life.

"So did Fox but it didn't stop me from using it, if only to annoy him."

"That's not really an incentive, you know," I informed her.

"Well, I don't see what's so bad with Mel," she said. "It's just like Gibson."

I did a quick glance down at my short, dumpy body (which looked even dumpier in the stupid suit I was wearing) and grumbled, "Hardly."

"Oh, don't be so sure. You've certainly enchanted my Dana, maybe more than the other Mel ever would."

"Too bad that charm didn't work on the rest of the family, huh?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"C'mon, Mrs. Scul--ahh, Maggie. It was pretty obvious what everyone thought of me out there."

She shot me a raised eyebrow. . .now I know where Dana got it from. "I hope you're not including me in that generic 'everyone'."

"No, I mean, yeah--I mean. . ."

"Do you think I'm being nice to you because it's Christmas?" she demanded.

Damn, I hate it when my mouth works faster than my brain. "Ahhh. . ."

She dropped her arms and placed her hands on her hips. "Mel! What on earth gave you the idea that I didn't like you?"

I shoved my hands in my pants pockets, and mumbled, "Just. . . just this feeling I've got, that's all."

"Well, I can assure you your feeling is wrong. Here, sit down for a second." She gestured to the small kitchen table. 

"But--but there's still more dishes out there," I argued.

"They can wait. Sit." I knew a command when I heard it, and wasn't about to disobey this one--I quickly sat down across from Maggie. She paused for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, then began: "Now, I will admit when Dana first told me of this--unorthodox--arrangement, I thought she was out of her mind. My little girl has always marched to her own drummer, but this time. . ."

"She wasn't even in the same parade?" I offered.

That got her laughing. "I suppose that pretty much sums it up. You have quite a way with words, Frohike."

"Yeah, and they tend to get me in a lot of trouble," I grumbled.

"Something else you and Fox share," she observed.

But I didn't laugh. I couldn't forget the fact that Mulder had been here, too--and first. In fact, Mulder was first in everything when it came to Scully, including her heart.   I wasn't so naïve to think she could ever love me as she loved him, and if he hadn't skipped town, it was a sure bet I wouldn't be sitting here in her mom's kitchen on Christmas Day. The only reason I had the position was because the first guy had stepped down. 

Just call me Gerald Ford.

I looked down at my hands, clasped on the table, and noticed yet again my bare ring finger--hell, even JOHN'S got a wedding ring, and he didn't even MARRY Susanne! Just one more reminder that I could fantasize all I wanted to, but Dana would never really be mine. "You thought he'd be the one, huh?" I asked, quietly.

The table shifted a bit as she rested her elbows on its surface. "I'd be lying if I said no. Dana was crazy about Fox, and they made such a handsome couple. But--he was so wrong for her." My ears perked up at that--I rarely heard anyone say a bad word about the great Fox Mulder. "Oh, I know he adored her, too, but he could have never loved her the way you do."

"No, I doubt he could," I muttered under my breath. Dana was my life--no one could love her as much as I did.

She fixed me her gaze on me and smiled, as if she could read my unspoken thoughts. "You know, I may have had my misgivings about this union, Mel, but after seeing you two here today, together--the respect and tenderness you show my daughter, and your obvious devotion to my grandson--well, I understand now, and I approve."

"So--I'm good enough for Dana?" I asked, hesitantly. Why her mother's opinion of me mattered so much suddenly, I'm not sure. I guess I just figured it'd be nice to have at least ONE Scully on my side.

She reached across the table and clasped my hands in hers. "I'd be hard pressed to find someone more worthy of her."

Speaking of the devil (or the angel in this case) Dana took that moment to stroll into the kitchen, carrying the rest of the dirty dishes. "Mom? The natives are getting restless out there. They want dessert, and they want it now. I don't want to be around if they don't get some of your pumpkin pie--and soon."

Maggie turned and gave her daughter a big smile. "Sorry, sweetie--Mel and I were just having a little talk."

"Oh, so THAT'S why my ears were burning," Scully shot back, as she stacked the plates near the sink. "Is everything okay?"

Her mother turned back to me and winked mischievously.   "Fine, honey," I laughed. "Everything's fine."

Dana just looked back and forth between the two of us. "Why do I get the feeling you're not being truthful with me?" she asked, skeptically.

"Oh, pish and posh," Maggie scoffed. "You've gotten too paranoid for your own good, young lady." That earned a major guffaw from me--I wondered if she knew she was sitting at the table with the King of Paranoia. "I was simply thanking Mel for that lovely crystal bowl you both gave me. In fact. . ." She got up from the table and went over to one of her cupboards, pulled out a bag of Hershey's kisses and handed it to Dana. "Here. Why don't you fill it with these until we get back out there."

Scully just rolled her eyes and exclaimed, "If you want me to leave, just say so, mom."

"In that case--Dana. . .leave," Maggie told her, straight-faced.

"Fine, I can take a hint." Clutching the bag, and trying to maintain as much dignity as she could, Dana started to walk out.

"Only when you're whacked over the head with one," Maggie retaliated.

I'll admit that I was so busy watching the playful teasing between mother and daughter, I almost missed Maggie's next comment, which was addressed to me. "See, Mel, you just have to know how to handle her."

"I'll be sure to remember that," I snickered. Maggie was really a pretty cool lady after all.

Dana, who by now was standing near the kitchen door, turned and stuck her tongue out at both of us before she left, effectively getting in the last word. 

"She must've been quite a handful," I commented before I even realized I was speaking the thought out loud.

"Always," Maggie concurred. "Never a dull moment with that one, but it was well worth it. She turned out to be quite a special woman."

"She certainly did," I wholeheartedly agreed. "A very special woman indeed. Like mother like daughter, huh?"

"Mel--you flatterer," she tittered.

And in that moment it hit me. "YOU gave me that car, didn't you?"

Giving a slight nod, she explained, "Well, Dana told me that you liked classic cars, and when I saw it, I thought it was rather cute. Do you like it?"

<Unfamiliar handwriting, indeed. I was gonna have to have a talk with my significant other when we got home.> "Very much. Thank you, Maggie. I. . ." and I stopped, not knowing quite how to verbalize the feelings I was experiencing.

She gave me a sympathetic, knowing smile. "You're quite welcome, Frohike--and if you really want to show me your gratitude, you could help out with these."  

I jumped up and went over to her; she handed me two homemade pies then reached back into the fridge to get the can of whipped cream. Stopping by the cupboard to snatch up the dessert plates she turned to me and said, "You know, it's been years since I've seen that special twinkle in her eyes. Thank you, Mel."

"What for?" I asked, puzzled.

"For making my little girl happy."

"It's all I want for her and for William," I told her, truthfully. 

She flashed me a smile that would outshine the sun. "I know--that's why you were the right choice." And with that, she walked out into the dining room.

I stood there stunned for a moment before trailing after her, dessert in hand.

MAGGIE:

The rest of the visit just seemed to fly by after my little 'intervention' in the kitchen. Mel was noticeably more relaxed, and actually started participating in the conversations and discussions. He proved himself to be quite charming as well as knowledgeable on a wide variety of topics, and when his opinions went against the status quo, he presented his side with logic and quiet conviction. 

And if Bill was less that thrilled that Mel had found his tongue, well, the rest of us were more than happy to hear his views. Dana in particular sat enthralled as her husband expounded on yet another current event, content to sit there with a smug little smile on her face and let him redeem himself without any interference. One thing I was certain of is my little girl would never be bored if conversation was as stimulating as this at her house.

All too soon, however, the late hour commanded an end to the evening. My boys and their families were staying with me at the house, so the whole group of us walked Dana and Mel to the front door. They were all packed up and ready to go, loaded down with gifts for the baby, supplies for the baby. . .the actual baby. As before, Frohike had the little guy bundled close to him in one of those popular front pouches or papooses or whatever they call them. Never really understood the reason for those silly contraptions, but the way William had instantly snuggled in contentedly against Mel and fell fast asleep, I could see their appeal.

When they reached the door, Amy giggled and pointed to the mistletoe hanging from the doorframe. Since I was the only one who knew about Dana and Frohike's little secret, I couldn't help but wonder how they would handle this challenge.

They didn't disappoint.

Dana's hands were filled with bags, so Mel reached up, cupped her face gently in his gloved hands (can't imagine those odd finger-less gloves are any use in this weather) and pulled her in for a tiny, sweet kiss. It was such a special tender moment, I had to snap a picture of them, but I doubt they even noticed the flash go off.

Truth be told, I really didn't need a picture to see the love Mel has for my daughter--it's written all over his face whenever he looks at her, or even mentions her name. Dana may believe this 'marriage' was one of simply friendship, but she was wrong, so wrong. I desperately wanted to take her aside and talk to her, try to shake some sense into her. He loved her so much--couldn't she see that? How could she not know how he feels?

Or didn't she want to? Perhaps as long as she didn't acknowledge his feelings, towards her, she wouldn't have to feel guilty about not returning them. It was such a shame--I was sure he could make her very happy, if only she would allow him into her heart. He may not have been the handsome prince you find in fairy tales, but he was a good man, and he would never do anything to hurt her, of that I knew. 

I watched as they made their way to the car; once they had the packages in the trunk, and the baby secured in his car seat, they both turned and waved to us. I should have yelled out, "He's a special man, Dana--don't break his heart." But I didn't. She was a grown woman now, and I had no right to interfere in her life. So instead, I smiled and waved back. . .

It was all I could do.

THE END