Mulder sat on his couch, his stomach rumbling with hunger. He had been off work since he came back from Bermuda. Bruised ribs, a slight concussion, and scrapes and bruises on odd spots of his body kept him home and resting.

Scully had checked in on him, bringing food and staying for a little while every couple of days. Still working on the background checks, she complained about it to him when she came over, rolling her eyes and sighing a lot.

She was out of town for the next few days. Her brothers were both in town and the entire family had made plans to go to Connecticut for Thanksgiving weekend. He was happy for her to get away for awhile and hoped she was having a good time.

His stomach growled again and he sighed as he glanced toward the kitchen, knowing the only thing he would find in there to eat was two cans of chicken noodle soup and some orange juice; which was most likely expired.

The thought of getting up and going out for something made him groan. The hour was far too late anyway and his desire to leave was more than minimal. And ordering in… well, he could only eat so much pizza and Chinese food.

Sighing again, he surfed through the channels, finding nothing of interest, until he landed on a cooking show. Setting the remote down, he rested his hands in his lap.

The woman on the screen was preparing a chicken with roasted potatoes. His mouth began to water as she started to describe the spices she was using and demonstrated how to cut the potatoes.

As the food was set in the oven, she took out ingredients for a strawberry shortcake and he audibly groaned as she whipped cream. He could practically taste the sugar and vanilla on his tongue.

His stomach growled again and he pushed himself from the couch, stumbling heavily into the kitchen and opening the cupboards, hoping some food had magically appeared.

Of course it had not, and he was forced to eat the chicken noodle soup, sighing repeatedly as he did, the meal a poor substitute compared to the one he had seen on TV.

Putting the spoon in his bowl, he sighed. The meal not satisfying, he got up and searched the cupboards in more depth. Finding a box of Pop Tarts way in the back, along with a single bottle of ketchup, he sighed again.

Placing his bowl in the sink, he grabbed a pack of Pop Tarts and headed to bed. Tomorrow morning, he would go to the store before it closed for the holiday, and buy some much needed staples. Perhaps he would even buy some items to make himself an actual meal every now and then.

Standing in a cookware store, he looked around, overwhelmed by the choices in front of him. Pots and pans, different cooking dishes, and types of utensils. Shaking his head, he walked past them and looked through a few cookbooks, finding simple recipes he could follow without screwing them up.

Deciding on one, he tracked down a sales associate. Showing her a few of the recipes and asking what she would recommend for a beginner like him. She laughed and led him back to the cooking dishes and utensils. As she explained how to use them, he listened intently.

Thanking her for her help, he took all of his items and headed to the register. Stopping as he passed some aprons, he doubled back. Laughing as he looked at them, he made an impulse decision, aprons not an item he had planned to purchase. Grabbing both aprons, he continued to the register.

When he arrived at the store, he took the cookbook in with him, to see what he would need to create the recipe. As he walked through the door, he heard Christmas music playing, and he shook his head, the holiday arriving earlier every year.

He pushed the shopping cart around the store, filling it with his regular items before adding chicken, vegetables, and spices he would need for the recipes he planned to try.

Two trips to and from the car, and he had everything sitting on the table. Staring at it all, he sighed. It was more food than he had ever had in the apartment. Ever. Sighing again, he began to put it all away.

Once he was finished, he opened a bag of sunflower seeds and sat down at the table with the cookbook. Reading the step-by-step instructions on how to make the chicken and potato dish, he nodded, ready to try it out. Clearing away the pile of sunflower shells, he stood up and walked into the kitchen.

He washed the potatoes, cut them as directed, and placed them in a bowl. Pouring olive oil on top of them, he added the spices, and mixed them up. He washed the green casserole dish he had purchased, and dried it. Greasing the bottom with a little bit of olive oil, he placed the seasoned chicken breasts in the middle of it, pouring the potatoes around them.

Staring at the dish, he shrugged as he opened the oven door and set the dish inside. Cleaning up the mess he had made, he periodically checked the oven, sure he had done something to make the dish incorrectly. But soon, the apartment was filled with a delicious aroma of spices, and his mouth began to water. When the timer sounded, he picked up his newly purchased oven mitts and pulled the dish from the oven.

It bubbled and sizzled, and he closed his eyes and he took a deep breath, breathing in the delicious smell. Setting it down, he took off the oven mitts and smiled as he stared at the meal he had created.

"Well goddamn," he said quietly.

Letting it cool, a few minutes later, he filled his plate and took a small bite. Raising his eyebrows, he nodded as he chewed a larger bite of chicken and potato.

"Well goddamn," he said again with a smile.

Thanksgiving day, he went for a run and upon returning, he found he had missed a call from Scully. Not wanting to bother her, he did not call back, but smiled as he listened to her greeting, checking in on him

and telling him happy Thanksgiving.

Walking into the kitchen for some water, he looked at the apron he bought for her, and the one for himself, and he laughed softly. He was sure she was going to absolutely hate it, but would also get a kick out of it.

He made a decision as he stepped into the shower. When she came back, he was going to surprise her with a home cooked meal and the gift of her apron, an early Christmas gift.

Over the next couple of days, he tried a couple more simple and small recipes, surprising himself with his ability.

As he cleaned up his most recent mess, he looked at his watch. He knew Scully was due to come home that day, but he was not exactly sure of the time. Putting the dishes away, he walked into the living room, intent on calling her.

But then his cell phone rang with information from an unknown informant who worked at area 51. All other thoughts left his mind as excitement coursed through him.

Hanging up, he called Scully, grinning from ear to ear the entire time.

"Scully."

"Hey Scully, it's me. How do you feel about taking a little trip?" he said, already walking into his room to grab a bag and pack some clothes. He heard her heavy sigh and he paused, realizing he should have asked how her holiday was and how she was doing, but the chance to go meet the informant had taken precedent.

"Nice to hear from you too, Mulder," she said and he could practically hear her roll her eyes. "Fine, Mulder. Where are we going?" He smiled, as he continued grabbing some clothes and placing them in his bag.

The trip to Nevada was a bust, although some strange unexplainable things happened while they were gone. His apartment was clean, like really clean. And his bedroom… the boxes he had been moving around before he was injured, had begun to pile up, leaving only a path to the bathroom, had been cleared and put away.

A new bedroom set had appeared out of nowhere and the mirrors on the ceiling… they had added to some interesting moments when he was alone in bed. No one fessed up to doing it when he asked the Gunmen. He did not mention the mirrors, knowing the questions Frohike would ask.

The strange occurrences aside, they were back to the boring scut work placed on them by Kersh. They were bogged down with background checks, and even flew out to small towns, to talk to people who did not want to speak to them. He understood their irritation, as he himself did not want to be there.

They stayed in crappy motels or took red eye flights back home, both of them tired and annoyed with the assignments. Dragging himself home, he did not have the time to make any food, which eventually was thrown out, as it had collected mildew in the fridge as did the fruit on the counter. He looked longingly at the casserole dish, remembering the taste of the meals he had made.

Christmas was fast approaching and he knew Scully would have plans with her family. He wanted to have her over for dinner before she did, offering a home cooked meal as a thank you for putting up with him the last few months. He knew he was more difficult to be around and she had put up with a lot from him.

A lot.

Plans were made for her to come over on Saturday the 19th. He purchased the food that he would need, the same chicken and potato meal he had made first, along with some wine.

Donning his apron, he put the meal together and placed it in the oven. About 25 minutes in, when it was beginning to fill the apartment with its delicious aroma with the wine open and breathing, he heard her knock at the door.

Stepping over to let her inside, he smiled as he opened the door. Whatever she was going to say died on her lips as she looked at the apron he wore.

"Wh… what?" She said her eyebrows going up.

"Step inside and you'll see that what the apron says is true; Something Smells GOOD," he said, extending his arm to bring her inside with a smile. She sighed, but allowed him to pull her in and help remove her coat.

"It does smell good in here," she said, staring at his apron and then at him. "Have you seriously been cooking? Really?" He grinned with a nod. She stared at him in disbelief and he motioned to the kitchen.

She walked into the kitchen and he followed, wanting to see her expression. As she looked around, at the knives, cutting Board, and oven mitts, she raised her eyebrows, smiling in surprise.

"Impressed?" he asked, and she looked at his apron again and nodded with a smile. "Wine?" He poured them each a glass and they sat at the table as they waited for the food to finish cooking.

"So, you've become a chef the past few weeks? Mulder, you just keep opening like a flower," she teased and he chuckled as he took a drink.

"Not exactly a chef, but I have learned to cook a few dishes."

"How many have you burned?" she said, her eyebrow up, the wine glass and her lips. He raised his eyebrows and she smiled.

"Agent Scully, you wound me," he said, a hand on his heart. She laughed and he went to her.

They continued to talk about nothing as they waited for the dinner to be ready. When the timer went off, she followed him into the kitchen to watch him take the dish from the oven.

"Well, well," she said, crossing her arms. "It actually looks edible." He looked at her with an expression of mock hurt and she laughed.

When it had cooled down, he served up their meal and brought it to her as she sat at the table. He nervously waited and watched as she took her first bite. Surprise, shock, and happiness crossed her face. She smiled and he nodded as he began to eat.

When they had finished and the last bit of wine was all that remained, she stared at him and he knew a question was formulating in her mind. She sighed as she glanced down at his apron again and then she laughed softly.

"That apron, Mulder…" She looked at him and he looked down at it. "What gives?"

"An impulse purchase and false advertising if I had failed, so I had something to aspire to," he explained and she raised her eyebrows in appreciation. "Plus, you know, it protects my clothes from the day when I will inevitably spill something on it, as aprons do." He smiled at her with a wink and she chuckled with a nod as they finished their wine.

When she stood a few minutes later, claiming it was late and she should be going, he stood with her.

"Scully, I know this has been a rough time for us. I wanted to say thanks, and this meal seemed like a great way to do it. So thanks… for putting up with me, going along on the off the book trips, and for just being there."

"Since when have we been completely "on the books" with our trips?" she asked with a smile, as she grabbed her coat and put it on, buttoning it up and staring at him.

"True. To a point," he said with a shrug. "Still, thank you." He touched her shoulder and she nodded.

"Well you're welcome, Mulder," she said, opening the door. "Thank you for the meal, which was very good, and especially for the fun that the apron brought to the evening." She smirked and he laughed as she stepped into the hall and turned around with a smile.

"Good night, Mulder."

"Night, Scully," he replied and she chuckled softly, walking to the elevator.

Stepping back inside, he closed the door and took off his apron. He laid it over his arm as he picked up the plates and glasses. He hung up the apron and washed the dishes. Turning off the kitchen light, he grinned as he glanced at the apron.

"Now, um I know we said we weren't going to exchange gifts, but, uh… I got you a little something," he said, holding up her gift.

"Mulder," she said.

"Merry Christmas."

"Well, I got you a little something too." She held up her gift and he happily exchanged with her. They grinned at each other and ran to the couch to open them.

As she untied the bows, meticulous even in how she opened gifts, he paused, wanting to watch her as she opened it. Catching his eye as a ribbon was set down, she raised her eyebrows, silently asking him a question.

"I just… hope you like it," he said with a smile.

"Now I'm a little nervous," she said as she ripped off the paper. He smiled as she looked down as the paper fell away.

"What… What is this?" She took the top off the plastic tube and pulled out what was inside. Unrolling it, she turned it around and laughed.

"Mulder…" was all she could say before she stood up, placed it over her head, and turned toward him. "This is hilarious."

He grinned as she stood wearing the black apron that was similar to his own white one. Except hers was slightly different as it read "Something Smells Goo-ood" in big, white block letters.

"You bought us matching aprons?" she giggled as she looked at him and he shrugged with a smile. "Mulder, this was not at all what I had pictured would be inside of that gift. Oh my God! Open yours!"

She laughed and clapped as she sat down beside him. the apron strings billowing behind her. "Open it!"

He grinned and opened it, tearing the wrapping paper, and throwing it on the coffee table. Flipping it over, he laughed as he looked at the title of the video tape she bought for him.

"Cooking is Easy," he read out loud and she laughed, grabbing his arm. He looked at her and he laughed again.

"I thought it was funny, but now it's even better," she laughed as she gestured to the apron. "I mean, this is either really funny or I'm just super tired." She pulled the apron out and looked at it, laughing again. She looked at him and he winked as he stood up and walked over to the VCR. He opened the tape she bought, pushed it inside, and turned on the television.

He joined her on the couch as he grabbed the remote. Turning up the volume, they sat together as an overly happy woman began to explain how easy cooking could be.

Scully giggled beside him and he glanced at her with a smile as she wore his silly gift. She moved a little closer to him and put her head on his shoulder, as she mocked the happy tone of the woman on screen.

"This video is so much better than I had imagined," she laughed. "I'll have to have you come over for dinner now, Mulder. My apron has something to prove."

She yawned with a little moan, shifting her head on his shoulder. He smiled as she did, happy that she had not hated the gift at all. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it.

He glanced over at the window and saw that the promise of a white Christmas had arrived. Smiling at the drastically different way the evening could have ended, he rested his head on hers, closing his eyes as he let the happy cheery voice on the video, explaining how to add water to a pot, lull them both to sleep.