As of December 1st, all of Washington became alive with Christmas fever. The sickness extended into the shopping centres, grocery stores, and to professional office buildings.
It had become impossible to visit a grocery store, parking garage or gas station without hearing a holiday themed music. The Hoover building was not immune. Thanksgiving had come and gone.
Agents who did not have active cases took long weekends and joked about the one perk to government work was the all of the mandatory holidays they were able to take.
The FBI secretarial pool had decorated every nook and cranny with tinsel.
Whether it was the string of gold and cranberry red beads or the metallic silver and green strings, every office door, every elevator looked like Christmas had vomited all over it.
A giant Virginia Pine tree stood in the lobby and some of the directors and section chief's offices had their own smaller ones.
The variety of white to evergreen, real to fake depended on the sense of humour of each director. A.D.
Kersh had a small evergreen tree in the corner of his outer office with popcorn and cranberries on a string as well as small paper snowflakes and hand drawn gingerbread men.
Nothing could have been more confusing to Mulder, who spent the entire morning after he saw the tree trying to profile their new boss.
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