Thanksgiving Day
by Lolabeegood

E-mail: lolabeegood@gmail.com
Distribution: Anywhere as long as my name stays 
attached.
Rating: PG
Category: S
Keywords: Mulder/Scully, Post-series
Spoilers: The whole series and all movies, 
although this takes place before IWTB 
Summary: A day in the life of Fox Mulder while 
living in long-term isolation.
Author's Notes: This is part of my 'Day' series of 
stories.  It can be read independent of all the 
others as they are only loosely linked.  Enjoy!

I do not own the characters.

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Dana Scully carefully took the cover off the turkey 
and basted it in its juices.  The aroma from the 
bird was intoxicating and she looked at the clock 
not wanting to believe it would be another hour 
until it was done.  She opened the oven door and 
carefully slipped the turkey back inside shutting 
the door behind it.  

She grabbed her glass of wine sitting on the counter, 
and walked back into the living room where Mulder 
was perched on the couch yelling at the TV.

"I'm sure they can hear your calls," she mocked him 
as she sat down with her back into the arm rest.

"Wine?" he asked with a raised eyebrow as he looked 
at her.

"Yes, wine," she said taking a sip before she put the 
glass down on the coffee table.

"That's un-American Scully," he chastised her as he 
raised a beer bottle to his lips.  "Beer is the 
official drink of Thanksgiving."

She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he 
took a long pull from his bottle.  He was quite a 
sexy man normally but, she'd always liked watching 
him drink.  It was a secret little turn on of hers.

He turned to look at her smiling face and dreamy 
expression.

"What?" he asked amused.

"It's California wine," she replied with a smirk as 
she shook herself out of her state of attraction.

He smiled back at her.  "The turkey smells amazing."

"It'll be another hour," she said as she tucked her 
feet under his thigh.

"At least this year there aren't any toxins 
involved," he snickered as he sat against the 
back of the couch.

"I'm sure it was probably fine, but you never know 
about the off-gasing from the plastic," she explained.

"I didn't know they stored the damn stuff inside the 
bird.  Shouldn't they just chuck it out to avoid 
mishaps?"

"The sandwiches were good," she said as she rubbed 
his shoulder.  She knew he was sensitive about his 
Thanksgiving turkey disaster last year.

"But this year, it'll be a nice meal, thanks to you."

"I've always wanted to do this," she said thoughtfully.  
"But my mom cooked the turkey every year so there was 
never a need."

"Well if it tastes as good as it smells, I promise 
I'll do some serious damage to it."

She looked at him very introspectively for a moment.  
And he, sensing she wanted to say something, kept 
quiet.

"Mulder, beside the obvious, what are you thankful 
for?"

"What's the obvious?" he asked.

"You know, being out of prison, not being dead..."

"Oh, those obvious things?" he snickered.

"Yes," she said.

"I'm thankful you cooked a nice turkey, I'm 
thankful...it's going to be a mild winter so I 
can still run," he looked at the line across her 
forehead and knew he wasn't answering right.  "What 
do you mean Scully?"

"Forget it," she said as she reached for her glass 
of wine.

"No, really, what?" he asked as he rubbed her knee.

"You can run?  That's what you came up with?"

"Yeah, why?" he asked, not sure where this was 
going.

"Nothing to do with us?" she asked, obviously 
ticked off.

"Huh?" he asked, confused.

"You're not thankful for me, or our relationship, 
or..."

"Scully," he interrupted and leaned closer to her 
face.  "You said 'not the obvious'"

"Huh?" she asked confused.

"I thought anything to do with you fell under the 
category of 'obvious'" he said in all seriousness.

She tilted her head slightly to the side, indicating 
to him that he needed to continue.

"I love you," he said truthfully.  "I'm thankful for 
you and everything that comes with you.  I'm also 
thankful when you come, but..."

"Mulder," she chastised him.

"Speaking of which," he said leaning back to look 
at the clock.  "We have 50 minutes to work with, 
here."

"You're serious?"

"Deadly," he leaned in to kiss her.  

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