xmas letters

[psifi872]

December 24 Eight forty-five p.m.

Dear Saint Nicholas,

If you exist, which I doubt, you must be surprised to be receiving a letter from a soldier who is almost forty years old and who has been accused of being an assassin and worse. Well, if you do exist, you know whether I've been naughty or nice, right? Of course, those terms are kinda relative, aren't they? I certainly wouldn't call a lot of what I've done the last few years "nice," but it's for a good cause! I'm trying to save the human race, after all, so I hope you'll excuse some of the dirtier tasks I've had to perform. For the sake of this letter, I'm going to assume I'm forgiven. Otherwise, there's not much point to my writing you, is there?

Actually, 'why am I writing you?' is a very good question. I assume you don't get many letters from lucid adults. Do you remember a man named Fox Mulder? I'd really love to know if he made your nice list when he was a kid or if he occasionally got himself on the naughty one. The man may have ironclad morals, but he's also stubborn, arrogant, and a trouble magnet.

Anyways. Mulder believes in everything. I would not be at all surprised to learn that he believes in you. Unfortunately, Mulder has a scary habit of being right, especially about things that could be called bizarre, unusual, or paranormal. So, since there are things I want and I haven't been able to get them for myself, I decided to hedge my bets and send you this letter.

The first thing I want for Christmas is world peace. I'm serious. I mean, I'm not asking that you stop every stupid little border skirmish or make the USA and the Middle East best buddies. I'm trying to keep this realistic. However, I did mention that I have a cause I'm fighting for, namely keeping humanity from extinction. The human race is running out of time and if something doesn't change your very last toy run will occur in roughly fifteen years.

Trust me, the Colonists just aren't the types to celebrate peace and goodwill, not to mention the more religious aspects of the holiday season. So, while we're dying, you'll be facing unemployment. I'm not threatening you! I just want to be very clear about the danger. So, I could use some help here. A working vaccine against the black cancer would be very useful.

The second thing I could use is a new prosthetic. It'd be nice to have something like Luke Skywalker got in Empire Strikes Back! Yeah, I could get one myself, but not easily. I mean, I'd have to find a doctor I could trust and I hate doctors. They aren't as trustworthy as you might think. They all seem to have at least a bit of a God complex. Of course, the only ones I'm familiar with work for the Project, so maybe I'm biased. Plus, even if I could find a good doctor, I'd have to get an exam and fittings and crap and I'm kinda busy! You know, that whole saving the world thing? It's a bit time-consuming.

Sorry, if I seem to be harping on the point, but you know how it is. So, I could really use a good, durable prosthetic. I'm kinda rough on them.

Lastly, the thing I want most is Fox Mulder's friendship. I want him to understand me and the choices I've made. I want him to forgive me. I think Mulder and I could be very good partners against the aliens. I really don't understand him. I mean, he's a federal agent.
He knows about tough choices for the greater good and he certainly knows how dangerous the Colonists are. I'm not sure what he expects me to do...or not do, maybe.

If you're real, then you probably know our history and it isn't pretty. Well, there has to be some way to convince him that I want to make things right. I want him to know that I'm sorry for hurting him. He's had too much of that and I regret adding to it. Problem is I've had to lie to him a few times and he's not going to believe anything I say. That's where you come in. I know you're not a matchmaker or anything, but can't you give him proof that I'm on the right side...on *his* side?

I don't know why I'm writing this. I just have to try. I can't think of any way to approach him that won't end in a fight. He doesn't trust easily and I burned him once and I don't know how to win his trust back, without endangering our species! So, if you could help me, I'd very deeply appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Alex Krycek

Alex threw down his pen and rubbed his eyes. He felt foolish. Vodka and loneliness only excused so much irrational behavior and Krycek was fairly certain he had crossed the line. Writing to Santa? Spilling out his frustration and need for a friend in a Christmas wish list? Krycek vowed to avoid the Hallmark channel during the holidays from now on.

Stretching and yawning, he decided to call it a night. He stumbled wearily towards the dubious comfort of his bedroom. Just as he shut the door, something happened.

Green, red, and silver sparkles began dancing merrily around Alex's letter to Santa.

Then it disappeared!

In the morning, Alex noticed it was missing and put the entire episode down to a liquor-inspired waking dream.


December 25 12:31 a.m.

Krycek stumbled into his kitchen, intent on coffee, but came to a halt just inside the door. Something was wrong. Scanning the room from left to right, he started. He had a guest, sitting calmly at the small kitchen table wedged into the right-hand corner of the room.

"Mulder? W-what are you doing here?"

"You asked for me to be here," Mulder reminded him, smirking.

"I asked..." Krycek began, then broke off, confused.

He walked over and sat across from Mulder, his nose wrinkled in sleepy thought, as he tried to figure out what Mulder meant. Mulder chuckled and handed Krycek a large, cream-colored envelope. Krycek's name was on the front in elegant calligraphy. Krycek took the envelope and opened it carefully. He looked at Mulder again, questioningly, but Mulder just nodded towards the envelope again, smiling softly. Krycek opened up the letter.

Dear Alex,

Merry Christmas, dear boy. Of course, I exist. It's sad that when men and women gain the experience of adulthood, they lose the gentler wisdom of childhood. I was not surprised that you wrote to me. Ah no! Children are not the only ones who feel the need to write to me. I know of your war and your cause. I know your battle is an ugly and difficult one that sometimes forces you to use methods that are unsavory. Yet, that must be balanced against what is at stake. Obviously, you have made the nice list, for this year at the least.

I am glad to see that young Fox is having an influence on you. His willingness to believe and accept life as it comes to him is one of his greatest strengths, despite the fools and jackals who ridicule him. I certainly will not tell you what parts, if any, of his youth were spent on my naughty list. Ask him, if you insist on knowing. Perhaps you'll learn something about each other.

World peace. Oh, my dear young man, how I do wish I could grant this wish. But, I am not God. You must know that there are powers far greater than mine. In the end, I am but a toymaker and a reminder of the hope and joy that this world can hold. I can support you, but I cannot win this war for you.

Still, you mentioned a vaccine. I am not a doctor and know very little about medicine. However, you will find a second sheet of paper in the envelope of this letter. On that paper is the name and address of someone who will eventually become important to your fight. My advice is that you not seek this person out, just yet. Your paths will cross, when the time is right. However, when you meet this woman, you must introduce her immediately to Agent Scully. Until then, remember this. You are not alone in your fight. There are as many, hopefully greater, powers with you, as against you.

Now, as for a new prosthetic, this is something I can grant! Well, within reason! I think a prosthetic such as Luke Skywalker's would draw some very uncomfortable attention to you! Still, you are very hard on your limbs and not just the fake one! I gave the problem to my elves and I think you will be very pleased with the result. If anything, this new limb will be much more comfortable than your previous ones.

And, speaking of comfort, I admit, playing matchmaker, even just for friendship, is not comfortable for me at all. I was very reluctant to interfere in your relationship with Fox Mulder. However, you asked me to intervene for you and to help convince him of your sincerity. I have done so as best I can. He knows now where your loyalties lie.

Where you two go from here is between the two of you. You're stronger together-that is one reason I granted your wish, but such things cannot be commanded. You will be friends or enemies as you both choose. I wish you well.

Sincerely,

Saint Nicholas


Krycek stared down at the letter in amazement. It had worked! He'd actually received presents from Santa Claus. He looked up at Mulder, who smiled gently at the wonder in Krycek's eyes.

"What could he possibly have said to you?" Krycek asked.

"The truth," Mulder answered, shrugging. "He showed me some things...what you'd tried to do and been through. He showed me how my bitterness had colored my perceptions of you. He said we need each other. He showed me your letter to him. Points for a very earthy eloquence."

Krycek chuckled, his nose wrinkling in irritation, though he couldn't help being amused as well.

"Thanks, I think. Look, Mulder, I just...I'm tired of fighting this war alone. Y'know?"

"Yeah, me too," Mulder agreed, earning a surprised look from Krycek. "Yeah, I have Scully, but, then again, I don't. She doesn't believe and I'm beginning to think she never will."

"She doesn't want to and, frankly, I don't blame her. If Cancerman would let her ignore this whole ugly mess and lead a normal life, I would tell you to just back off and let her."

"Ignoring it won't make it less real," Mulder countered sadly. "Ignorance may be bliss, but it's not protection."

"No. It's not. So, what now?"

"Now? We celebrate Christmas. Next week we get back to work."

"Good thing I went grocery shopping."