<![CDATA[
Merry Christmas, Scully 2: Making Snow Angels
by Stephanie Kaiser
<scully@galenalink.com>
Sequel: Yes this is a sequel to Merry Christmas, Scully. You could probably
read this without having read the first one, you would just be missing some
of the finer details of what has happened. If you need Merry Christmas,
Scully, e-mail me and I would be happy to send it to you.
Classification: R (M/S) with a dash of A for flavor.
Rating: R
Spoilers: Yes, up to and including Detour
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
Summary: Mulder remembers spending Christmas day with Scully as he fights a
blizzard to return to her at the cottage to make snow angels.
Disclaimer: As much as I wish I had a hand in creating The X-Files all
rights belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Entertainment. I do
however believe that Mulder and Scully belong to David and Gillian, without
them there would be words but no soul. Suing me would do no good, I would
just have more time to write in jail.
Author's notes: If you're looking for a tale of adventure and angst, you're
*still* not going to find it here. If you're looking for a sweet Christmas
romance, sit back, relax and let me tell you a story. Special thanks to
Melissa and Karen, who insisted that there needed to be a sequel to make use
of the canopy bed ;) Any comments can be sent to: <scully@galenalink.com>
Merry Christmas, Scully 2: Making Snow Angels
The snow fell from the heavens mixing with the strong north
wind creating a world filled with a swirling, disorientating, blinding
whiteness.
Fox Mulder painstakingly inched his car slowly along what he
hoped was still the road. He wasn't certain any longer since it had long
since been blanketed with snow by the blizzard raging around him. His only
plan of attack at this point was to keep the car between the two rows of
telephone lines running on either side of the road.
"Is the entire universe against me?" he questioned sardonically,
to no one in particular, since he was alone in the car. "Or do you all take
turns and today happens to be Jack Frost's lucky day?"
He scowled and gripped the steering wheel of the car tighter as
the tires momentarily lost traction. The engine gunned briefly before the
car again began crawling forward. The thought of pulling off to the side of
the road until it at least quit snowing had been abandoned. He wanted to get
to Scully--needed to get to Scully.
It had been the longest ten days of his life. Mulder had spent his
life alone, it was what he knew, it was what he had accepted. He had spent
his entire existence, up until five years ago, searching in a self-induced
solitude. Searching for his sister, for the truth, and although he had never
realized it, he had been searching for Scully.
Eleven days ago he had held her in his arms. Ten days ago he had
driven her to the airport, helping her to leave him, trusting that she would
find the answers she was seeking within herself and return to him. Scully
always returned to him.
For the past ten days he had sat in their office staring at the
emptiness, missing her presence there. In the past his work had been his
solace, now he only found comfort when he was with her. Her voice this
afternoon on his answering machine had warmed his soul.
"Mulder, it's me. I...um.....I came back early. I was hoping you
could meet me. We could....make snow angels, like the last time you brought
me here."
He smiled as he remembered the sound of her voice, the hesitant
shyness he had heard in her words. The memory inflamed his need to feel her
against him and he pounded on the steering wheel in frustration. The tires
continued to crush the snow against the pavement as it gradually moved
forward. A road sign to his right made his spirits soar. He was fifteen
minutes away from the cottage--away from Scully. Fifteen minutes away from
having her in his arms.
He gripped the steering wheel with a renewed sense of purpose and
remembered what it felt like to hold her, her body against his.
He remembered the feel of her skin, smooth and warm against him as
she slept cradled securely in his arms. He had lain awake for hours
lavishing in the simplicity of her warm breath on his neck and the sensation
of her heart beating in rhythm with his own.
He had given her his heart on Christmas Eve. In truth, she had been
holding his heart delicately in her hands for a long time now, guarding and
protecting it as ferociously as she guarded and protected him.
Christmas morning was the first time he had awakened with her in his
arms. That memory had kept him warm during her absence. He had drifted from
sleep to wakefulness before she had, taking enormous pleasure from the
weight of her body on his. He thanked the fates above before he had even
opened his eyes that morning. He had tightened his arms around her and she
began to stir.
"Don't open your eyes." He whispered softly and then smiled when she
kept her eyes closed but her brow furrowed.
"Why not?" Her voice was groggy with sleep but her body revealed her
joy of waking enclosed in his embrace as she teased him by running one of
her knees lazily up and down his thigh.
"Scully..." he growled in mock warning, tightening his arms and
kissing her on the top of the head. "You can't open your eyes until you make
a Christmas wish."
"A Christmas wish?"
"Before you open your eyes on Christmas morning you're allowed to
make one wish."
"Says who?" She challenged, her eyes still closed.
"Santa Claus. Scully, this isn't a difficult concept; keep your eyes
closed and make a wish."
"Mulder," she raised her head up from where it rested on his chest
estimating, due to her temporary inability to see, where his face was. "You
do realize that there's no such person as...."
Mulder silenced her by covering her lips with his own.
His kiss was intoxicating and sharp waves of desire flooded her
senses, causing her to forget her argument, which of course had been his
intention as well as his pleasure. She moaned in protest when his lips left
hers. His face stayed next to hers, the morning stubble on his cheek
brushing roughly across her jaw line before he eagerly took her earlobe into
his mouth. She inhaled deeply and nuzzled against him. Slowly he allowed the
gentle suckling to stoke the fire burning low in her belly but he hoped that
it was the low rumble from deep in his throat that would cause scorching
heat to rush through her veins.
"Shhh... I want to believe." He breathed. "Make a wish, Scully."
This man, using that voice...she could deny him nothing.
Mulder watched her expression grow momentarily serious before a
content smile lit her face and her eyes scrunched tightly together as she
made her wish. She opened her eyes and now that she could see her target she
crushed her lips to his. Her tongue taunted him, running only across his
lower lip. When his mouth opened to receive her, she pulled away, leaving
him wanting.
"That's not going to work every time." Her voice was scolding but
her eyes danced with mirth.
"Kissing you? It works for me." He leaned forward to recapture her
lips but she leaned out of his reach.
"No, kissing me to keep me from disagreeing with you."
"Can't blame a guy for trying, Scully."
"I'm looking forward to you trying, Mulder. I'm just warning you
that it isn't always going to work."
He leaned towards her and this time she met his lips, basking in the
sensations that he was offering her.
"I'll just have to keep practicing until it works every time." He
muttered against her lips.
"I don't know. I can be pretty stubborn when I want to be. It's
going to take a lot of practice."
"I think I'm up to the challenge." He smiled, pulling her more
tightly against him. The blanket that had been covering them shifted,
revealing her legs to the cold morning air. She shivered.
"It's cold in here."
"The fire went out," he stated simply.
"Well? Maybe you should get up and start another one."
"Scully, I don't want to get up. It's cold in here." He protested in
a voice that bordered a whine as he nuzzled his face into her hair.
"I'm beginning to think I got stuck with a defective `Indian Guide'
for a partner." She teased.
"Woman build fire," he replied with a sober expression using stilted
words. "Indian guide turn up furnace."
"Mulder!"
"If you want a fire, of course I will build you a fire. I'm just not
ready to let go of you yet." He shifted beneath her and pulled her so that
the warmth of his body gently covered her. "Better?"
"Much." She responded as she traced his jaw line and down his neck
with soft, fluttering kisses. "Don't think you're off the hook with the fire
though."
"Scully?" She stopped her caresses and looked up into his eyes.
"What did you wish for?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Why not?"
"If you tell someone what you wished for, your wish doesn't come
true."
"That's only for birthday wishes." He rolled his eyes in
exaggerated disgust at her lack of knowledge of
wish protocol.
"Are you sure?" She eyed him skeptically.
"I'm sure. What did you wish for?"
"One day." She held his gaze but a small trace of shyness was added
to her expression.
"One day?"
Scully could tell that it was important to him that he understood
what she was asking. She reached out and took his hand in her own and
brought it to her lips, kissing the inside palm.
"I want one day with you. One day where it's just you and me. A man
and a woman. One day when we're not Special Agents Mulder and Scully, a day
when the rest of the world doesn't exist. I don't want to think about what
happens when we go back to work. I don't want to think about what happens
tomorrow when we leave here. I just want one day."
He saw the emotion in her eyes and he thought he understood how much
her request meant to her, but she needed to understand that what they had
wasn't going to end after one day. It had taken them too long to get here.
They had fought too hard, lost too much. He wasn't going to lose her now.
"But Scully, it doesn't have."
She brought her fingers up to his mouth and firmly placed them over
his lips, effectively silencing him.
"One day. Can you give me that Mulder?"
He would have given her the world, if it had been in his power. He
would give her today, and then he would give her tomorrow, and every day
after that. Mulder looked into her eyes and saw there the need of her soul.
"Today is yours Scully," he managed to whisper before he sealed his
pledge with his mouth.
The burning of her lips, of her seeking tongue, sent fire rushing
through every vein. His answering response caused her to moan a deep,
primitive sound that thrilled every nerve in his body.
"Are you sure, Mulder? Can you forget everything else for one day?"
Scully implored when he finally lifted his lips from hers to end the sensual
devastation of the kiss.
"If that's your Christmas wish, I will spend the day doing anything
you would like." He promised her with his heart as well as his words.
"Thank you." She whispered quietly.
"How would you like to start your day?" He raised his eyebrow
suggestively at her as his hand teased her body under the blanket.
"Why don't you start by making a fire and I'll make breakfast." She
smiled as his face transformed into the boyish pout she secretly found to be
incredibly alluring. She kissed him, much too quickly for his standards, and
reached for the fallen shirt he had discarded the night before. "That doesn'
t work all the time either."
He sighed but sat up as she pulled his now wrinkled work shirt
around herself and began to button the buttons. The shirt had never looked
so good. Scully stood up and looked down at him.
"Fine. Man build fire, woman go kitchen," he ordered, imitating his
version of an Indian guide. The look she gave him was patented Scully. Even
as she stood there, her hair combed only by his fingers, her lips slightly
swollen from the pressure of his own, and her sensual body, that had writhed
beneath his own during the night, outlined beneath his shirt; she was a
force to be reckoned with when she gave him that look. A beautiful force.
His beautiful force. His Scully. "One fire coming up."
She turned to go to the kitchen but not before gifting him first
with a smile. Almost as an afterthought she turned once again to face him as
he gathered the afghan around his waist.
"Mulder? What was your Christmas wish?"
"Matches." He joked as he headed for the fireplace. He turned around
when he felt her eyes still watching him. "My Christmas wish is a little
complicated, but I promise I'll tell you later." He hoped she would let it
go at that and he turned and knelt in front of the fireplace. After a moment
he heard her move to the kitchen area and start breakfast.
--- ---
Mulder remembered that morning as the car still continued its
journey through the onslaught of snow that swirled furiously around him. She
had asked him for one day and in his opinion, and hers, it had been perfect.
They had eaten breakfast and sat cuddled on the sofa watching old Christmas
movies. Enjoying the Christmas tree, the warmth of the holiday classics and
the warmth of simply being together. She had finally relented to his pleas
and had let them watch "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" between showings of
"It's a Wonderful Life" and "White Christmas". They had fallen asleep
watching the shows and when they woke, they mourned for even the shortest of
time lost during their day together, but had consoled themselves with the
notion that they would need their strength for later. It was when they had
gotten up from their nap that she had decided they should go for a short
walk outside.
It was a clear, crisp day. The snowfall the night before had created
a winter wonderland just for them to enjoy. The surrounding wooded area was
magnificent, the trees all covered in a lustrous blanket of snow and the
scenery competed with anything that they had just witnessed on television.
They had walked the distance from the cottage to the road, hand in hand, as
if they had been lovers for years, and not merely hours.
Mulder smiled as he remembered the catalyst that had paced the rest
of the day. A single, solitary moment in time when he had decided that she
would look attractive with a light dusting of snow in her hair.
It had begun innocently enough. They had stopped walking when Scully
had spied two rabbits ahead in the clearing. They had stood and watched them
for awhile, afraid that if they moved the animals would be frightened away.
Scully had watched the rabbits race around, kicking up snow with their hind
feet. Mulder had watched Scully. The winter wind had added hints of red to
her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her eyes were bright as she watched the
creatures play.
If he had stopped and thought about his action that followed, he may
have reconsidered; but he doubted it. The child-like prank still brought a
smile to his face. As she watched the rabbits he noticed the snow-covered
branch directly over her head. His hand, of its own volition he was certain,
reached out and firmly shook the branch. Mounds of snow from that branch as
well as the two above it fell upon her.
She gasped in surprise and in the shock of the coldness of the snow
now covering her hair, sticking to her eye lashes and running down the back
of her neck. She slowly turned to face him. When her eyes met his and he
viewed the promise of revenge he saw there, he did what any self-respecting
FBI agent would do in the same situation--he ran.
He hadn't gotten very far away from her when he checked over his
shoulder to see if she were pursuing him. His world exploded into painful
whiteness as the first snowball hit him in the face, and the second between
the shoulder blades. The third hit him square in the chest when he turned,
taking the offensive, and began to chase after her. He heard her laugh as
she ran and he took delight in the sound until she ducked under a low
branch, pushing it forward so that it was his turn to be sprayed with snow
when it snapped back and hit him in the shoulder. He stood covered with
snow, unable to help thinking that although he had started this little
battle in the snow, he was getting his ass kicked.
Another snowball brushed past his ear and he set out after her with
determined intent. Scully lost her footing and she slipped on a patch of
ice. She twisted her body so that she landed hard on her butt in the snow.
Still laughing, she laid back in the snow so that her arms were next to her
sides. Mulder walked up to her and watched as she moved her arms and legs
out and back.
"What are you doing?"
"Making a snow angel." She pointed to a clear patch of snow close to
her. "Go and try it."
"I don't think so."
"You don't want to make a snow angel?" Her voice reflected her
disappointment.
"Nope." He smiled as he answered, then he dropped down trapping her
beneath him. "I'd rather make love to an angel in the snow." He whispered
softly before kissing her tenderly.
She squirmed beneath him, and not taking his mouth from hers he
captured both of her hands in his and pinned them above her head. He
deepened the kiss and she responded in kind, but she also raised one of her
legs to gain some leverage beneath him. Mulder shifted slightly to the side,
making it impossible for her to move. A low rumble of laughter in her throat
and in her chest caused him to pull away and eye her questioningly.
"Scully, I'm trying to seduce you. You could be more cooperative.
What is so funny?"
"So now you *want* to wrestle?"
Her reference to the cold night in the woods that he spent curled up
in her arms brought a rumble of laughter from his throat as well.
"You can be such a tease." She accused, her voice warmed with
fondness.
"*I'm* a tease?" He questioned. "If my memory serves me right you
won the gold medal for teasing that night."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was filled with
innocence but her eyes were all knowing.
"Maybe if it rains sleeping bags you'll get lucky? No rampant sexual
innuendo there."
"I haven't been your partner for five years without learning
something about rampant sexual innuendo." She stated matter-of-factly.
"Then if that weren't enough," he continued, choosing to ignore her
comment. "There was the singing."
"You made me sing," she said defending herself.
"It wasn't that you sang, it was how and what you sang."
A small guilty smirk began to form on Scully's lips before she was
able to restrain herself.
"And don't tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about
because I can tell by the look on your face that you do. It was bad enough
trying to fall asleep with visions of sleeping bags dancing in my head, but
then you had to take it one step further. The first verse, even the chorus
was fine, but the second verse..." he bent his head so that his lips merely
tantalized hers before descending to her jaw line. His lips and tongue
blazed a trail to just below her ear. The feather-like movements tickling
and exciting her beyond words. She attempted to free her hands, but he held
on tightly, keeping them above her head. "The second verse was sweet torture
at its best." He nipped softly at her ear lobe with his teeth and caressed
the spot on her neck, the one he recently discovered drove her mad, with his
tongue. "Your voice dropped to just above a whisper and you lowered it to
just the right octave so that the words that left your throat sounded like a
seductive growl."
Mulder lifted his head and looked into her deep blue eyes. He saw
there the effect his movements were having on her; they were wide with
desire. He wasn't ready to give in to her yet. He wanted her to want him as
badly as he had wanted her that night. His lips began their sensual attack
on the other side of her neck.
"If I were King of the world. Tell you what I'd do." The words of
the song she had chosen that night washed over her in a molten flood of
heat. His hot breath as he spoke softly into her ear caused her eyes to
drift closed, and her breath came out in a sigh. Her heart raced, and she
almost had gained control of it when he continued his sultry serenade.
"I'd put away the cars and the bars and the war and make sweet love
to you."
Mulder punctuated each of the last few words with the touch of his
lips against her skin. When he was finished his lips found hers. Scully's
mouth opened instantly for him, and their tongues touched and mingled as
thrill after thrill pulsed through her.
After a few moments she turned her head slightly, breaking contact.
"Mulder." Her voice was deep, raw with passion. "Take me inside. You
can make love to an angel in a canopy bed. If we stay out here much longer
the explanation as to why my ass is frostbitten is going to be
embarrassing." She smiled up at him coyly.
Instantly realizing how cold she must be he jumped up, pulling her
with him and up into his arms.
End of part 1, continued in part 2.
Merry Christmas, Scully 2: Making Snow Angels
by Stephanie Kaiser
<scully@galenalink.com>
See disclaimer in part 1.
Mulder carried Scully the short distance to the cottage, her head
resting against his chest. Once inside he set her down and helped her remove
the wet coat and her boots.
"We need to get you warm." He ran his hands up and down her arms
generating heat. Scully stopped him and held out her hand.
"All I need is you Mulder."
He took her hand without hesitation and followed her as she led him
up the stairs to the bedroom. The afternoon was growing late and Mulder left
her side only for a moment to light a few candles in the room.
She walked towards him, her eyes as soft and luminous as the candle
flames. He held out his arms and gathered her to him. She squeezed her eyes
closed, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close, as if fearing
that any moment, what she was feeling could be torn away from her.
He kissed her. Whispered to her. Touched her until her whole body
ignited with passion. When he pulled away, she drew him back for another
kiss. Whispering to him. Caressing him until she could feel his heart
hammering beneath her hand on his chest.
Lips still meshed, fingers busy with the task of removing their
clothing, they began a slow dance toward the bed. Candlelight shadowed her
face as he stared down at her. Scully shivered at the intensity in his eyes.
Knowing what was about to happen, yearning for it, and yet wishing, somehow,
that this moment could be preserved forever.
"Thank you, Mulder, for making my Christmas wish come true."
His eyes softened, and he smiled at her so tenderly her eyes grew
warm with tears. He sat down on the
bed and held out his hand. She took it, allowing herself to be drawn once
again into the thrilling warmth of his arms.
He brought her with him, to lay fully stretched out on the bed.
Scully's hands began to explore him hungrily, her fingertips intent on
knowing every inch of his body. His own hands found their way to her breasts
and his lips and tongue searched out her nipples, wanting to send the purest
of pleasure down into the deepest part of her.
Somewhere within him a fire raged, a fire that demanded he possess
her immediately. But the desire was overruled by a greater need to take
things slowly, to make the night last forever.
He kissed her temple, her eye lids, her cheeks, his hands running
down the length of her back, delighting in the feel of her skin, as warm and
smooth as silk. His tongue tasted and urged and slowly drove into her mouth
while his thighs pressed into her. Rigid thighs. Demanding.
"Touch me," he whispered to her, half-afraid of what would happen
when she did. Afraid that he would burst into a thousand shards of pleasure
from her touch.
The shaken sound of his voice made Dana's hands tremble as she bent
low and covered his nipple with her lips, teasing it with her tongue. Mulder
inhaled sharply and ran his hands through her hair in encouragement. She
continued her explorations with her tongue, moving ever so slowly downward,
stopping just below his navel and then traveling back up. Mulder groaned and
she smiled at the idea of being able to exert such control over the man who
always demanded he be in control. He hoped the fact that he was
relinquishing that control spoke to her in more ways than his words would
never be able to.
Together they were caressing hands and eager mouths and limbs, each
trying to give the other pleasure. His groan was her music and her sigh was
his benediction. They clung together while her body welcomed the slow
thrusting heat of him. What began, as a gentle rocking became fierce,
demanding thrusts. She strained toward him in trembling need and he drove
into her again and again in a desperate desire to take her with him as high
as he climbed towards the heavens. She cried out and held him when she found
it, and he joined her there.
For long moments, they were conscious of nothing but clinging to one
another, feeling the pounding of their hearts slow to a more relaxed pace.
As his own ragged breathing became quieter, he continued to hold himself
inside her. He savored the warmth, the intimacy of their joining, never
wanting it to end.
But in time he eased himself from on top of her. He gathered her in
his arms, nestling her head against his shoulder. Releasing a sated sigh of
satisfaction he knew he needed to tell her the words before his body
betrayed him with sleep.
"I love you Scully." He whispered, his voice a faint rustling next
to her ear. He delicately kissed her cheek before allowing sleep to carry
him away from her.
Sleep only evaded Scully as she lay in Mulder's arms, the tears
falling down from her eyes. She knew that tomorrow this fairy tale like
dream would come to an end.
Mulder woke from his deep sleep several long hours later and before
he even opened his eyes he felt as if a part of himself were missing. He
reached out for Scully but was greeted only with an armful of empty sheets
and blankets. He was instantly alert and opened his eyes, sitting up in bed.
He saw her standing across the small loft that served as the bedroom. She
was standing, wrapped in the quilt from the bed, in front of the large
picture window that took up the far wall. The sun was beginning to rise and
the hues of reds, oranges and fire yellows danced off her skin and hair
making her appear even more vibrant than usual. The sunrise was beautiful as
it reflected off the snow, but it paled next to Scully.
"Hey you, come back to bed." His voice was deep with sleep.
"I'll be there in a minute."
Her voice was raspy also but he suspected that it wasn't from sleep
but from crying. He wrapped the remaining blanket around himself and walked
to where she stood, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back
against his chest. She resisted momentarily, her body rigid in his arms, but
then she slowly took the refuge he was offering.
"Tell me what's wrong."
"The sun's rising."
"It's beautiful. It's the beginning of another new day." He kissed
the crown of her head, breathing in her scent.
"It's not the beginning, it's the end," she answered her voice
catching momentarily on her words.
The end of what?"
"Our day. Today we're Agents Mulder and Scully of the FBI again.
They don't have beautiful beginnings. They don't sleep in each other's arms
to keep away the loneliness and the monsters that visit in their dreams.
They don't tenderly make love to one another. They don't make angels in the
snow. They argue and second guess each other. He ditches her on occasion and
most of the time when he asks her if she's all right she lies and says she's
fine. They're not allowed to feel anything, and when they do express
affection towards one another it's brief and fleeting, least any one see and
can use it against them. They're both afraid to take a chance because the
other one could pay with their lives. That's who we are today." Her voice
was cold, emotionless. He was worried and when he turned her to face him he
was slightly reassured by the fire still burning in her eyes, although it
was weaker than it had been the day before.
"It doesn't have to be like that. We don't have to be like that." He
insisted.
"What's changed?" She challenged.
"We have."
"No we haven't. We just gave in. I've wanted this for a long time,
and I suspect the idea wasn't novel to you either. We've just done a better
job of fighting it up until now."
"I'm tired of fighting it. Last night I told you that I loved you."
He put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to meet his eyes. "I meant
it."
"You can't love me. Don't make this harder than it is."
"It's too late." He looked deeply into her eyes, trying to read what
she was thinking. "You're scared." He stated after a moment. "What are you
scared of?"
"That they'll use this. That they'll use us against one another."
"Let them try. We're stronger together. You know that."
"Mulder, the last time they used me against you, they gave me
cancer." They were both silent and Scully walked away from him and sat at
the edge of the bed. "What if they took you this time? Took you away from
me, somewhere where I couldn't get to you?"
Mulder walked to where she sat and knelt on the floor in front of
her. His face level with hers. He took both of her hands in his and met her
gaze.
"Scully if you want to end this, to let it go, because you don't
care about me, because you don't feel everything that I do, that's one
thing; but don't let go because you're scared. Don't throw everything away
because you're scared. When you're scared you're supposed to hang on. Hang
onto me Scully."
She sat silent for a moment and hope flared up within him when he
saw a hint of something cross her eyes. It died just as suddenly when she
stood and walked across the room, leaving him kneeling next to the bed. She
dropped the blanket she had been wearing and started to rummage through her
suitcase for her clothing. She began to dress and Mulder moved to sit on the
bed in wait.
"We better get going if you're going to get me to the airport on
time. It's an early flight," she said not turning around but continuing to
dress.
"Scully..." he began, but stopped when she turned to face him, a
certain desperation on her face.
"I need time to think." She whispered. "You promised me that you
would get me to the airport in time to make my flight. Are you going to keep
your promise?"
He watched her for a moment before nodding. The sight of her
shoulders sagging in relief took the air from his lungs. He stood unable to
face her, gathered his clothes and went down the stairs.
Agent Mulder drove her to the airport in silence. Their good-byes
were curt and emotionless. He asked her if she had her cell phone and she
asked him not to call. She boarded the plane without even looking back at
him. His heart went out to her and he wanted to scream after her that she
didn't need to go through this alone, that he would miss her, that he loved
her. He didn't scream out. He turned and silently left the airport after he
watched the plane safely take off, trusting that time would bring her back
to him.
--- ---
The shrill of Mulder's cell phone brought him from his reverie. Not
taking his eyes from the snow-covered road he searched the seat next to him
until his hand found the phone and he brought it to his ear.
"Mulder."
"It's me. Where are you? Did you get my message." Her voice was
tentative, not as sure as he was used to it being.
"I'm almost there." He reassured her.
"I thought you weren't coming, and then I looked out the window and
saw how bad the weather had gotten and I was concerned that something had
happened to you."
"I'm just a couple of minutes away from the drive way. Give me about
10 minutes and then call out the dog sleds. Scully, I think we're going to
be snowed in for a few days."
"Good." Her voice grew stronger. "Mulder, I'm not scared anymore. I'
ll be watching for the car. Be careful."
"Nothing is going to keep me away from you, Scully. I'll be right
there."
Scully hung up the phone and stood in the doorframe of the cottage.
The door was open and she stared out into the blinding whiteness. She
wrapped her sweater around herself more tightly, her body rejecting the
meager substitute as it longed for Mulder's arms. She had been a fool.
She had walked away from him at the airport without even looking
back. She had been terrified to look back, knowing that if she looked into
his eyes one more time, she wouldn't have the strength to leave. The
airplane ride had been torture, she had cried silently for most of the trip
and her mother had questioned her incessantly when she had picked her up at
the airport. She had blamed a case of motion sickness.
Scully had thought that once she got to San Diego she would be able
to immerse herself in family activities and forget Mulder. She had found
that the more she tried to forget the more she wanted to be with him. She
knew that it was impossible and that only made her miss him more. She longed
for him more and more with the passing of each day. She had picked up the
phone on several occasions and had actually begun dialing his number before
she made herself put the phone down. More than once she had considered
dialing his number to hear his voice on his answering machine recording.
Only the thought of her catching him home by accident stopped her. Would she
be able to hang up on him if he had answered? Hearing his voice became an
obsession. She knew that it was the only thing that would calm and reassure
her, regardless of how temporary. She had lasted nine days without him and
only the sound of his voice would get her through the next five until she
returned to DC.
When her family had gone out shopping she had snuck upstairs to the
room she was using while she was there and dug her briefcase out of the
closet where she had put it when she arrived. She laid it on the bed and sat
briefly staring at it. Giving in, she unlatched it and opened it on the bed.
She reached deep into the pocket and pulled out a miniature tape recorder.
She didn't allow herself this indulgence very often, only on rare occasions
when she needed his reassurance, times after he had ditched her or after an
exceptionally bad argument and she needed his validation. When she needed to
hear how much she meant to him, when he was unable to tell her directly. She
felt guilty at times, knowing that he was unaware of the fact that she had
the tape, that she had even heard it. She justified its new ownership in
that he had initially made the recording for her. She had come upon it
accidentally when she had gone to get him at the satellite tracking station
in Puerto Rico. She had seen it lying on the floor and picked it up, shoving
it hastily into her pocket when she had seen him on the floor, and thought
that he was dead. She shivered at the memory. She had meant to give it back
to him, but when she listened to it, the words had touched her and she
realized that the only person that would benefit from its existence was her.
Leaning back against the pillows of the bed she pressed the play
button and let his voice, although a bit strained, wash over her.
"I was sent here by one of those people. Deep Throat said trust no
one. It's hard Scully, suspecting everyone, everything. It wears you down.
You even begin to doubt what you know is the truth. Before, I could only
trust myself, now I can only trust you, and they've taken you away from me."
Scully stopped the tape. The impact of his words taking on new
meaning this time. "They've taken you away from me." They had done it again.
They had forced them to separate. Her anger grew hot inside of her at the
injustice of having to spend her life denying herself. Because of a
conspiracy she didn't even understand, men who had no names were deciding
her future. A cold reality replaced the searing anger when waves of
realization overwhelmed her. It wasn't outside forces keeping her from
Mulder, she was. She had left him. Willingly. The thought brutally struck
her and she forced herself to take deep breaths into her lungs. She had left
him. He had told her that he loved her, and she had walked away. She wasn't
afraid of a secret shadow organization, she was terrified of the feelings
she had for him. She hadn't allowed herself to feel for so long.
She jumped up from the bed and dragged her suitcase out from under
it, throwing her clothing into it as fast as she could. She would go back to
him, today. They would have a beautiful beginning. She just prayed it wasn't
too late.
--- ---
Having him meet her at the cottage had seemed like a good idea, but
it hadn't been snowing when she had left the message on his answering
machine. She watched with apprehension and her blood surged and she felt
butterflies deep in her stomach when she caught sight of his car coming up
the driveway. She couldn't wait a minute longer and she ran from the house
towards the car.
Mulder saw her run from the house and he pushed down on the gas
pedal in an effort to reach the house more quickly. The car spun and the
front tires slid into the shallow ditch next to it. Slamming the car into
gear and turning it off, Mulder jumped from the car and ran to meet Scully.
The force of the impact when they joined knocked them both, laughing, into
the snow. His lips found hers and she held on tight vowing to never let him
go.
"About time." She teased when he let her come up for air.
"I could be saying the same thing to you." He countered.
"Anything worthwhile is worth waiting for. We've waited five years,
I think that's enough. Whatever the future holds for us, we're going to face
it together. Not apart, never apart again."
"Are you sure?"
"Are you going to spend the day talking or are you going to make
love to an angel in the snow?" Her smile lit her eyes and he loved her.
"What about frostbite?"
She could tell that he was concerned, but she could also tell by the
look on his face and the feel of his body that he was aroused and eager to
make love to her outside in the falling snow.
"We're going to have to be quick." She laughed already pulling at
his belt.
"I can be quick," he assured her, laughing as his mouth and his
hands took possession of her.
"As long as you promise to be slow once we get inside."
"I can do that too. I'm a man of many talents, Agent Scully."
"Prove it, Agent Mulder."
The fire of his kisses warmed her soul as well as her body.
"I love you too." She whispered into his ear as he lavished her neck
with his incredibly talented lips.
He stopped his sensual explorations of her and his eyes found hers.
"I love you too." She repeated.
The emotion in his eyes carried her to new heights of her adoration
of him, but worried her too.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No," he answered quickly, without hesitation. "Thank you, Scully,
for making my Christmas wish come true."
The end.
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