My December

Title: My December.

Author:TRUTHWEBOTHKNOW dragonrider1@ntlworld.com

Rating:PG version.

Category: MT MSR M/S/SK friendship Angst-o-rama &

Christmas fic

Disclaimer: Season of goodwill and all that. I’m

just borrowing them from CC and Fox who own them.

Il send them home full of eggnog, a bag of prezzies

and full tummies. No profit Bah humbug. ;))))

Summery: Sometime after 2am, Scully succumbed to her

exhaustion, watched over by the concerned brown eyes

of Walter Skinner as he sat vigil beside his two

agents. Holding the hand of one as she slept,

tucked up beside Mulder on the bed, and gently

bathing the fever from the other’s face, with cool

water. They looked like a couple of kids, instead

of two FBI agents. He glanced at his watch and

pulled his lips into a tight sad smile, as he went

back to the task of bathing his injured agent.

Merry Christmas, Fox and Dana.

My December lyrics by LINKIN PARK

beta By Vickie Moseley and Susan Proto, warm fuzzy

Christmas greetings and thanks girls. The chocolate

cyber Mulders are in the post!!

Special engagement for IMTP VS10, Holiday special

Distribution: Exclusive for two weeks at IMTP VS 10

then anywhere at all. (My Evil muse NC17 also

available later)

Feedback or snowballs to above email.

My December

This is my December,

This is my snow covered home……

These are my snow-covered trees.

“How is he doing, Scully?”

“I need to keep him warm. He’s like an ice block….

Sir. Blankets”her voice was kinder this time, her

eyes never leaving her patient. Her fingers were

making short work of the hapless agent’s sopping

clothes. Galvanized into action, Skinner rifled the

closets for blankets or sheets, vaguely aware that he

might have bumped his own head. He wasn’t usually

this slow on the uptake. From rolling the car onto

its roof and sliding down the bank, to locating

Mulder and kicking in the door here, everything had

happened so fast. All thoughts of any injuries they

might have had on this god-forsaken night paled when

they realized that Mulder, like Elvis had left the

building, well in this case the wreck of their car.

The sight of the fresh air windshield, the blood

splatters on the dash, had them out of the car like

rats deserting a sinking ship, scouring the deep

woods below the bank.

And then they found him.

Skinner was standing and straitening his own back

while he watched her moving the stethoscope against

Mulder’s chest again, listening intently. The

younger man still heaved for breath, bound arms so

still now after so much struggling, his eyes looking

lovingly at Scully. The AD winced, his wrists looked

chaffed and raw, a testament to how powerful and

desperate his pain had made him.

Several hours alter, it was over. The worst of it

anyway.

“How is he?”

“Hanging in there. Just so glad we got it all out of

him. Just taking 5 sir, before…”

Skinner gave her a wan smile watching the shadows

from the fire and candle light dance over her face.

They both felt good Mulder was calm again but he

balked at the thought that the poor guy still needed

stitching up and any rest he was having was going to

be short-lived, until Scully finished. Hell, they all

needed a break before the inevitable second stage of

purgatory began again. He wasn’t sure he could take

much more , let alone the nightmare Mulder was

going through. A lesser man would have crumbled but

Mulder had held himself admirably, facing down all

the trauma, only haring out completely when his

considerable pain threshold finally disintegrated. He

had to admit he had a new found respect , seeing such

fortitude in his agent , but at the same time , it

left him feeling that Mulder was spookier than ever.

All his own years in the hell of Vietnam, he’d never

see any one so strong in the face of pain, Mulder had

more courage than he previously given him credit for

and that had always been considerable.

“Erratic heart beat still but that’s to be expected.

His lungs are okay but a little wet sounding. I need

to sort out his leg and bind his ribs. He should feel

much more comfortable then, until we can get him to a

hospital.”Her free handing continuously stroking

Mulder’s hair while she took his vitals. “There’s a

lot of damage to flesh and some broken ribs. Nothing

major compromised, thank god, but infection and

pneumonia is something we have to be vigilant about.

I’m going to need some more pillows or blankets to

pro him up with. I have to watch him closely.”

“I can watch him if you want to sleep tonight. You’re

hurt yourself, Dana and your dead on your feet. I can

always…”

“No, she cut him off, eyes flashing protectively in

Mulder’s direction. ” With due respect, Walter, he

needs my trained medical eye, if he deteriorates in

the night with shock or infection then its best I

spot it as quickly as I can. I’ll crash later but

right now…”her eyes fell lovingly on her patient’s

sleepy face. “I’m not going to be able to sleep with

him like this anyway. I could use a coffee though.

Please tell me you found some something out there.”

Her eyes glittered hopefully despite her tired pale

face.

“I found something, if you can call it coffee.

There’s some tinned food, some of it well…odd. But

I’ll see if I can come up with something. Necessity

is the mother of invention. I thought I saw some

camping equipment in one of the kitchen closets.

Might be able to boil up some water on a stove or

something. Failing that, the fireplace has a hook

where I can hang the kettle. I should have done it

before but there was too much going on with Mulder.

I’m going to get that started and then get some air”

“I’ll love you forever if you bring me coffee sir,

…I mean, Walter. I’m going to need warm water to

bathe him with ..and some ice or something for his

head…and mine.”

“Hey , she’s spoken for…” Mulder’s voice, strained

and wheezy from screaming, startled them both. He’d

appeared to be asleep. Both Skinner and

Scully stifled a laugh, Scully gently ruffling

Mulder’s hair.

“Better believe it Mister, she whispered to only to

him and smiled at his sleepy eyes, before turning to

her boss “Take a break, Walter, I think you’ve

earned it. Beyond the call of duty and all that,

Mulder and I will okay alone for a few minutes.”

“I’ll be back shortly with the water….er I was

going to hike back to the car,, see If I could

salvage anything else useful or try and flag down

someone who can get us help or back to civilization.

The storms worse though. Il go first light, it will

be easier and safer. Don’t expect anyone will be fool

enough to be driving out tonight, but in the morning

I might find other cabins with phones or power. I

suspect now a search will have got underway, but hell

its Christmas, and they’ll be less manpower looking.

I think most people will be at home with their

families.”Scully nodded, a sad wistful expression on

her face. At least Mulder was alive, probably the

best present she could have hoped for under the

circumstances. They had each other.

“I’m just grateful; for this cabin, if this hadn’t

been so close by…?” Skinner nodded, sucking in a

tired breath.

” I think this was a our Christmas gift, Scully. A

place of shelter and safety, even if it is lacking in

more modern conveniences. ”

“A true miracle sir, our lives and this place. Just

here when we needed it the most. The fire and the

candles, its not home, but it is Christmassy. Really

pretty, Walter. Thank you. If Mulder wasn’t…if he

…hadn’t…” Several lumps got caught in her throat

and Scully prayed she wouldn’t embarrass herself. The

days events were catching up with her , adrenalin

fading fast and all the unshed tears threatened to

run down her face like an avalanche of fear , relief

and stress of the close call they had all just come

through.

Mulder wasn’t out of the woods yet and that terrified

her more than anything. She sent up a silent prayer

of thanks for her strength that had seen her through

these last desperate hours, for Mulder to be out of

pain and her faith that they could all be at home

very soon with their families, choking back the

silent sob that formed over her heart with the

unbidden image of her mother’s worried face that her

only surviving daughter and partner again were

missing when they should have been celebrating the

joy of Christmas, instead ruining the occasion with

worry and dread for that knock on the door. “…This

would have been perfect” she barely whispered.

“Il get that coffee. Holler if you need me, Dana.”

Scully sniffed, and forced a smile.

“..Yeah.” Skinner locked eyes with her for a second

or two longer that he intended. Wanting to tell her

that she and Mulder felt like the only family he’d

had in a while now. His jaw muscle twitched under the

urge to impart that to her, but part of him thought

better of it. He left them to their privacy.

Scully rechecked his dressing and the open wound

underneath, then scooted up the bed, taking care not

to jolt him. Mulder felt her hair tickle his face.

One warm arm slid ever so carefully around and under

his back so his head rested against her shoulder

while her other hand worked at the knots binding his

wrists. He leaned into her as she undid them one at a

time, releasing them with great tenderness, pressing

warm lips to the poor tortured skin on each with

barest pressure in a gesture that shouted, “I’m

sorry.” Pain still held him in a vice like grip but

it seems less now. He was sweat drenched and

frightened, his chest tight and throbbing but the

depth of love in Scully eyes as she looked at him,

made up for all that.

“Hey, G -man, you with me, you okay?” Lips against

his forehead, warm breath and a feeling of her

pushing his hair back. “Your poor head, we’ll get

some ice on that. ”

“Yeah.” A faint smile on the corner of his lips. A

pale shadow of his usual goofy morning grin.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry I had to put you

through that. ” Any more stroking and he’d purr like

a cat, despite the agony.

“S’alright, Scully. Had to be done. …. Was I a

complete asshole?”

“You don’t remember any of that, do you?”

“Thankfully not much, although…Scully, did I puke

on Skinner? Please tell me I didn’t…It’s vague.

I…”

“I think you owe him a new pair of loafers and suit

pants. Don’t worry; I guess he’ll think of a good

penance. ” She couldn’t quite hide the amusement in

her voice as her lips brushed his temple again. “And

you asked me to shoot you once or twice.” Mulder

closed his eyes in a painful grimace, knowing he’d

put her through hell. Again. When was she going to

get a break with him? When he looked in her eyes

again, he could see the unshed tears that refused to

fall and felt like seven kinds of heel.

“…And you’re hurt ,Scully. Are you okay? ” His

fingers shakily reached out for hers, they met,

joined and entwined.

“I’m fine Mulder.” Her eyes softened as at the crease

of worry on his face, she kissed his shoulder and put

her forehead to his. “Really. I’m tired, but I’m

okay. You came off worse than all of us put

together….” Mulder’s heartbeat began to thump

unhappily at something in her hesitation to go on.

She was playing with the hair at the nape of his

neck. Nervous breathe in his ear. Suddenly he felt

his brain catch up.

NO.

“You’re not finished? …. Scully…..”

“No, No I’m not , sweetheart. Here’s the deal….”

She felt a tightening in her stomach as she watched

the fresh anxiety pass like dull clouds over his

eyes. Her arms tightened as if trying to soften the

blow he knew was coming. He wanted nothing more at

his point to disappear into her skin and never

venture out again, heart pounding so fast , it made

him lightheaded and sick. Despite the warmth of her

body so close to him, ice ran riot in his veins.

“Mulder, honey, I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting, but

I’m going need to bathe you and clean you up a

little, then I need to do a bit of needlecraft on

that wound. Walter should be back with warm water

shortly then I can start. Just rest up a little , I’m

so sorry, we all needed to catch our breath. God this

is so hard…”

Mulder felt the first warm tears fall on his bare

shoulder. She startled when she found his fingers

worrying her cheeks, trying to catch them before they

fell. Several more streamed down her face at the

unconditional forgiveness in his eyes., the tiny

smile of affection that meant more to her than

anything right now. She was going to have to cause

him pain again, and he was giving her permission in

that gentle beautiful face. She couldn’t have loved

him more at that moment.

“You untied my arms, I…I ”

“I can’t see…that again, Mulder. See you like

that…I know…I know you shouldn’t be unconscious,

god knows this goes against all I was trained for,

all of this…But I… since you were passing in and

out while I was removing the wire, I guess… it’s a

moot point. If you feel you can’t…then you can let

go. Do what you need to get through this, even if it

means you pass out.” She couldn’t finish.

His fingers stroked hers, brought them slowly to his

lips and kissed them. “Shhh , its okay. Il be fine.

Just hope your needlework’s better than your

cooking. “He caught her eyes with a hint of a smile.

He felt exhausted, nauseous and not ready face this

again, he shuddered at the thought of more pain, but

he could see what this was doing to her. She sniffed

back her tears and wiped her eyes.

“I’ll remember that while I’m tiptoeing across your

pectorals. Besides, you said you liked my cooking.”

Fever filled eyes beamed at her, then closed. He

wasn’t going to stay the course. Not this time. She

squeezed his hand. “I’ll be as quick as I can and

very, very gentle okay?” he nodded almost

imperceptibly into the warm haven of her shoulder. If

they got out of this, he’d make Christmas up to her

and make it one to remember.

“Love you Scully.”He was crying in earnest now.

“Love you too, so much…I’m sorry. Make it up to you

soon G-man.”She kissed both eyes and rubbed his

cheek.

He nodded, eyes closed, mentally calling on all his

strength to stop himself flying apart. Walter soon

returned with ice and warm water. Mulder finally let

oblivion take him just as his tortured brain cells

registered the smell of coffee. He never even stirred

by the time Scully put the first needle through his

devastated flesh and lay deathly pale and still, 200

or so inner and outer stitches later. They couldn’t

wake him. They didn’t have the heart, to try. They

let him be and felt some kind of comfort at least

that he wasn’t awake for this. The rattle increasing

in his lungs was frightening confirmation that he had

contracted pneumonia, his struggles for breath and

fever burning brightly hours later, turning his skin

to a furnace. Her fear for his life increased ten

fold.

Scully cried again as she worked while Skinner kept

her supplied with coffee and much needed moral

support. A joke when things got too hard to see what

she was doing in front of her, to bring her back, a

comforting warm hand to let her know that she wasn’t

in this alone. In the space of a tragic few short

hours her boss had been replaced but a welcome but

unexpected friend. She thanked god again for the

100th time that night.

Somehow Scully held herself up long enough to bathe

Mulder, stitch and strap up both ribs and ankle.

Mulder stirred in fever dreams, soft flickers from

the fire giving him a child like, peaceful look, so

different from one convulsed in such pain earlier.

And sometime after 2am, Scully succumbed to her

exhaustion, watched over by the concerned brown eyes

of Walter Skinner as he sat vigil beside his two

agents. Holding the hand of one as she slept, tucked

up beside Mulder on the bed, and gently bathing the

fever from the other’s face, with cool water. They

looked like a couple of kids, instead of two FBI

agents. He glanced at his watch and pulled his lips

into a tight sad smile, as he went back to the

task of bathing his injured agent.

Merry Christmas, Fox and Dana.

Eventually the cabin in the mountains fell as silent

as the snow falling outside, except for the crack

popping of the waning fire and the occasional murmurs

of pain from Mulder as he fought demons in his

troubled sleep. None of them saw the door slowly

open, the multi-colored lights that bounced off the

cabin windows and the light flurries of blizzard

flakes swirling through to the living room and around

the night visitor as he made his entrance from the

wintry night, patting the snow from clothes and

beard, the thud of his boots as he stamped off the

snow.

Oh My, he chuckled to himself gruffly, peeping round

the door to the bedroom. Eyes twinkling like candle

flickers.

The old man sucked on his beloved pipe , savoring

the rich aroma as he took in his unexpected guests. A

bald man with glasses, kind of authoritarian,

looking, stocky. A petite red headed beauty, who on

closer inspection had her arm possessively around the

waist of the younger, dark haired man in the bed

covered only by blankets. He looked like a boy , eyes

closed tight against unknown pain, dark lashes

forming crescent smudges under his eyes.

Tsk tsk tsk, the sound almost silent, muffled by his

substantial beard. Oh dear.

As he got closer still, he peered right down into his

face, noting the sweat soaked hair, feeling heat,

distress, watching intently as soft moans spilled

from his lips. The sweat that poured down his face

and gave his chest a glowing sheen in the dying

candlelight, spoke of acute sickness. His chest rose

and fell in erratic, painful looking spasms and he

could see his pulse jumping in his pale neck like it

wanted to escape. There was something in the air

tonight beside the smell of candle wax, the ever-

pleasing aroma of burning logs. He sniffed the air,

Blood tainted through all the other smells and his

eyes fell back to the young man, sorrow in his gaze.

Then his eyes fell on the dressings and various blood

stained blankets at his feet and around the bed. The

man’s huge girth swelled with empathy.

Poor handsome Laddie, you’ve had a rough night

haven’t you.

He slowly put a finger out to touch him, and then

withdrew as if burned. He was close enough to hear

the frantic beat of his heart. Pursing his lips, he

closed his eyes for a second, listening to the sounds

of life now filling the cabin, this room, before

shaking his head. Slowly and silently he closed the

door leaving them all to their sleep. It had been a

long night.

An old man sat by the fire in his favorite chair,

smoking a pipe and rocking gently while the blizzard

outside raged against the Blue Mountains, thinking it

was good to be home. But he was deeply troubled; his

thoughts returning time after time to the sick man

who burned in fitful sleep in his bed tonight. So

long since anyone had come to call, so long since

anyone had really needed him. Not his family, he had

trouble picturing them now. Not The Great Malls of

America, too old they’d said, too eccentric. Too

generous and not enough profit. They’d let him go

with a kindly but insincere handshake, after all

those years of faithful service. It was his joy to

give, much better than receiving and he was so

lonely. This was the worse time of year to be alone,

even for him. He’d come home to lick his wounds.

He missed the children, their laughter, their joy &

honesty, their ability to see magic in every living

thing, uncomplicated by the doubts and skepticism

that the passage of time brought to their hearts too

soon. They’d made him soar and gave him a chance to

fly. He was old, old and obsolete like many of his

predecessors before him. The children believed in him

once too, that made him picture the face of the young

man, the face of a believer, of magical things. The

others and the tell tale signs of exhaustion and

struggle etched in their faces, the real powerful

magic that was the love that bound the trio together,

that made them fight for his life. To give their all

for the one who had fallen.

The old man scratched his craggy white beard. That

young man in his room needed him. It hit him like the

light from the brightest star in the galaxy. He had

so few gifts left before….

But this, this he could give, some how he just knew

that this was right. For the first time in many years

he let the warmth from the fire seep into his tired

old bones as he rose from his favorite old chair, his

only friend for a long time. With renewed purpose he

moved silently back to the bedroom, the lines and

crinkles of too many unkind years melting from his

face like snow flakes, his eyes shone and cheeks

glowed beneath his mane of white beard for the first

time in as long as he could remember.

No worthier souls than these.

Something cool and wet eased across the fire of his

forehead, rousing him finally from his fevered

dreams. He opened his eyes, expecting to find

Scully’s loving hands bathing him with ice water but

the ones he was seeing were rough and calloused. He

and delirium were old buddies and deep down he

knew he had to be it its grip, but never before had

he woken like this to find Scully at least 300 pounds

overweight and sporting a craggy white beard and

nose hair. His mouth opened in hazy wonder and

somewhere along the way he thought he’d pass out

again. He squinted in the flickering flame light, a

grin slowly spreading until it blew up a riot in his

eyes.

“Aren’t you Kenny Rodgers?” Mulder’s midnight

Samaritan grinned wickedly and put a finger to his

lips.

“Shhhhhhhh …” .

“Who are you?” Kenny, or whoever he was, now seemed

to be bathed in his own multi colored light source

that spread to envelop Mulder with tiny warm

pinpricks all over his body that seemed to reach

right inside him, easing the pain, the fire of

infection, the thunder in his head.

“Do you believe, son.? I feel it strong inside you.

Don’t ever let that go.”

“I…I…want to…” he was too hypnotized by the

sights and sensations that held him in a some kind of

suspension and were physically healing him from the

inside out, to form any kind of coherent sentence. It

was the most amazing feeling he could ever remember.

Like love, like pure energy, so intense he wanted to

laugh and cry at the same time. He nodded finally;

feeling dizzy as this light entity surrounded and

engulfed him, bathed him in some kind of microcosm of

pure peace and contentment. The last thing that

registered before his heavy eyelids closed was a

soothing voice full of joyful laughter. “Believe…”

“…When you were seven, Fox Mulder… that was an

imposter…I’m the real deal.”

“What…?”

SNICK

“Get way from him, NOW”

Scully pointed her Sig at the beefy old guy hovering

over Mulder’s body. Wide eyed and voice shaky from

disturbed sleep and fright, she became the epitome

of a professional FBI agent. Skinner by her side in

an instant, following suit with his own sig. The old

guy smiled, a gentle smile on his face a thousand

years old. The bubble that held Mulder grew outwards

to envelope them both and the last thing they

remembered was the soft laughter and sound of snow

falling against the window. A far away voice echoed

all around them.

“Merry Christmas. It’s a time for miracles…choose

your dearest wish. It’s magic if you believe…”

Mulder rolled over, feeling another warm body, he

leaned into it, stretching and spooning with a

contented sigh. Strawberry shampoo reached into his

lungs as he buried his nose in her hair and breathed

her in. A smile crept over his face as he snuggled to

enjoy the contact with her skin and slid an arm over

her waist. She stirred just a little leaning back

into him and making that little noise that drove him

crazy. Mulder’s tongue made tentative little swirls

over her earlobe, delighted when she shuddered. So

content, he could stay here all day just basking in

this love so new and largely unexplored.

Tap tap tap There its was again. He wasn’t imagining

it.

One eye opened lazily at the shy knock on the door.

It opened just a crack to reveal the delightedly

grinning countenance of Margaret Scully. She was

bouncing in the doorway like an overly excited

Doberman, Bill’s baby son, Matthew bouncing along

with her on her arm, wearing a funny little Santa hat

with a glowing bobble on top, Charlie’s four year old

daughter Lauren, hiding halfway behind her legs

hugging what looked like an new dolly.

Scully, now wide awake, emerged from the warm cocoon,

otherwise known as Mulder and peered, nonchalantly

over the covers, pulled up tight to hide both

their present nakedness. She practiced, grinning like

the good catholic daughter she was, despite their

current dubious positions, not that her mother

noticed one iota in her current state of Christmassy

exuberance. Mulder got a sudden urge to poke his head

down the blanket and study his chest. He noticed

Scully looking too. A few seconds later he shrugged.

Scully glanced at him, faint smile on her lips. She

could almost hear Mulder’s considerable brain going

through its machinations, trying to equate this

scenario coupled with fragments of screeching tires,

copious blood, Mulderscreams and a laughing old man .

It tickled the parts of their consciousness that they

couldn’t quite fathom, no matter how they tried to

work it out.

“Dana, Fox, Merry Christmas. Darlings what a

wonderful surprise. I never heard you come in. I’m so

pleased you decided to come early. Come on , we’re

just about to open the presents.” She bounced a bit

more. If that was possible “So sneaky of you. Not

that I mind of course. Just so happy you decide to

share your first Christmas with us all as a family.

I’ve warned Bill, that under pain of death he will

have to behave. I’ve even invited that lovely boss of

yours, Mr. Skinner. Can’t have that lovely man lonely

at Christmas can we? Hope you don’t mind. Ooh, this

is going to be as the best Christmas ever.” The door

snicked shut and soon the sound of Christmas carols

wafted up from downstairs along with various pleasing

smells of Christmas dinner, “Aw, Scully”.

Blue eyes met hazel in joint utter stupefaction..

Mulder was grinning, not uncharacteristically like an

idiot. Scully shook her head, her smile lightening

his heart. She looked as confused as he was. He

shrugged, the movement baring his deliciously

inviting chest. She couldn’t pull her eyes away.

“Do you believe, Scully?” Scully’s finger found

itself trailing to a point on his left chest,

expecting to find…something. When she looked up all

she saw was the love he’d carried their in his hazel

depths for more years than she could remember. Her

constant. Her touchstone. How she loved him. He

leaned down and kissed her.

“What happened Mulder?” That was his Scully, logical

as ever. The bottom lip came out in an bemused pout.

“I…”

“Ummm?”

“Dunno, Scully. Guess it’s a kind magic…if you

believe.” His hazel eyes twinkled with an unknown

knowledge.

“Do you?”

“I.. believe in love and that you will be there for

me no matter what.” He kissed her tenderly. “Merry

Christmas, baby,” He broke away breathless. Watching

her fingers as they settled over his heart, stroking.

“Something…. Happened…I”

“Let’s just believe, go join the others. It’s our

first Christmas. C’mon. The thought of your, mom’s

Christmas dinner is getting me hungry.”

“Okay, …okay. Merry Christmas, Mulder. I love you.”

“Love you, Scully. I’ll make you believe that

later…after Billy’s gone home.”

“Gonna hold you to that, G -man.”

Mulder looked out the window of Margaret Scully’s

back garden. The day had been perfect as any he could

have imagined. It was about love, family; acceptance

and being together, even Billy had called a truce.

Another man slid into the refection behind him,

watching the tree lights flick on and off.

“Mulder?”

“Yes sir?”

“Why do I get the feeling…”

“I know…I know sir, its something. I…” He looked

at the stars and saw them move all of a sudden as if

they were dancing just for him.

“Sir…Walter…?”

Scully walked out to join them at the back door, her

arms sliding around both their waists. She planted a

kiss on both their cheeks.

“Yeah, Mulder?”

“Nothing I’m just …well …feels like we have been

given a wonderful gift. I,er… can’t explain.”

“Know what I think, Mulder? ”

“It’s a kind of magic.” They all said in unison.

“If you believe…”Mulder voiced drifted into the

night.

The old man took a bow. His last gift gratefully

received.

The End.

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