TITLE: AS THE DRIVEN SNOW AUTHOR: JOHNIE E-MAIL: JOHNIERED@AOL.COM RATING: NC-17 Disclaimer: Fox Network, 1013 Productions and all those other nice people who let me play with their toys as long as I put them back where I found them, are the real owners of the characters used in the following story. Category: Romance Spoilers: none Summary: Fox Mulder returns home on college break and meets... someone. Comments: to JohnieRed@aol.com. Thanks to everyone who's written to me about previous stories. I love to hear your comments, critiques, and suggestions. I always take them into consideration when I next sit down at the keyboard. ***Special THANKS! to Erin and Kate*** Also thanks to Charleyne Hall, whose story Dance with Me gave me the idea for this one. xxxxxxxxxxxx January 1982 Fox Mulder was in a depressed funk. He had come home from Oxford on holiday break two weeks ago and was very sorry it was another week before he was scheduled to return. Why, why, why, he asked himself, pounding the steering wheel for emphasis, was I stupid enough to think my parents would be any different than they were two summers ago. Generally, he avoided trips home at all costs, preferring instead to backpack through Europe during breaks. This year he had planned on taking the ferry to France and spending his month off at a youth hostel in Paris but when he had spoken to his father about it he had been berated for ruining his parent's Christmas, after all, he was their only child now... His father knew just where to twist the knife in. But apparently it had merely been another excuse to make him feel like a guilty, unworthy son because neither of them had spent more than three hours in his company the entire time he was visiting. He drove down the Mass Pike cursing himself for having believed they actually might have missed him. He had been so stupid. A week with his father on Martha's Vineyard and a week with his mother in Connecticut and he was ready to move to England permentantly. Or maybe if I hid behind the iron curtain they wouldn't be able to get to me, he thought. He took a deep breath, he was driving to Boston to visit his friend Roger at Boston College. Roger had been one of his few friends during high school and was the only person in the States he bothered to keep in touch with. Roger had called him at his mother's house five hours earlier. "Fox, I can't believe you dained to jump the puddle and grace us Americans with your presence," Roger had joked by way of greeting. "Well, you know how it is, I have to be the dutiful son and come home for my annual stint as the family scapegoat," he chucked. He knew Roger understood, his parents were divorced and had both remarried. Roger now had a stepmother almost his own age and a stepfather with four children from a previous marriage who resented him. "That's why I volunteered to stay on campus to give tours to potential students, my friend. This year whipping boy Roger will not be appearing on stage at the old homestead theater. Let my stepdad pick on one of his own damn kids for a change. Besides, I usually visit my father at Christmas and this year he took my stepmother on a cruise to St. Thomas. I think he bought her a new bikini for each of the twelve days of Christmas to show off the new tits he bought her last year." Mulder started to laugh in earnest, "I think you win the dubious award of being the only one I know with a family more hellish than mine." "Yeah, I know that's why you keep in touch- to boost your self-esteem," Roger laughed back, "Why don't you come up and visit me? My roomate's gone so I have an extra bed." "Are you sure?" "Actually, I've been staying at my girlfriend Renee's most nights so you could have the room to yourself most of the time," he offered. "Give me directions and I'll be there in a couple of hours," he said, relieved to have an excuse to leave his mother's. "Okay when you get off the Pike..." After having an arguement with his mother about cutting his visit short he had been only too glad to leave. He took the exit Roger had told him to and began to make his way through Boston. His thoughts drifted back to Phobe Green, the girl he had met a month before he left for break. She was blond, pretty, intelligent, and she hadn't minded his reserved nature. Everyone at Oxford thought he was a driven, ambitious student and was much too serious about his studies to engage in many social activities. But the truth was he had few friends and almost never went out on dates because he was painfully shy. He felt perfectly confident in class and with casual acquaintences but failed when it came to developing more personal relationships. He had a basic distrust of others and was afraid of their ability to hurt him so he simply held everyone at arms length. He figured that was far enough away to keep them from bruising his already scarred heart. In high school girls had been intrigued by the despondent aura that surrounded him, and attracted to his good looks and sensitive nature. He had dated a little, always being the perfect gentleman, concerned and polite but never quite interested. Or, he reflected, never brave enough to risk being interested. But Phobe had stuck it out graciously refusing to be put off. Maybe it was time to date more seriously when he went back to Oxford, he thought. He couldn't live like a monk forever. After all, he told himself, he was healthy young male and he did have the sex drive of one. He pulled into a visitor parking space in the lot Roger told him to park in. He locked up the car and pulled his suitcase from the truck. He felt his muscles groan in response to it's heavy weight, he hadn't worked out since he came home. He sent up a silent prayer that Roger's dorm wasn't difficult to find. **** "So, Rog how go the applications for med school?" Fox asked while unpacking. "Oh, tediously. I'm applying for next January so I'll have to take the MCAT's, interview and apply for scholarships all over the summer to keep my last semester from being a living hell," he replied, tossing himself down on his bed and folding his hands under his head. Roger had placed out of a semester's worth of classes the same way Fox had but since Mulder had a double major of psychology and criminology he was graduating after the usual eight semesters and Roger was finishing early. "So what's this about giving tours to incoming students?" "I volunteered to show persceptive students around campus because the Admission's office considers me to be such a fine example of-" Fox snorted. "Let me guess, you volunteering has nothing to do with having the first shot at the freshman canadiates," he teased, knowing full well Roger was besotted with his girlfriend Renee. Roger laughed. "Fox you've known me too long," he joked, "everyone here thinks I'm just a nice guy." Then he became serious. "How much have you been dating at Oxford?" Fox bit back the urge to groan. Most of the dates he'd had in high school had been instigated by Roger. His friend was always urging him to crawl out of his shell a little. "I take it by your expression it hasn't been much. Really, Fox you can't live like this. You're going to end up a hermit in a cave on a remote mountain top in Nepal if you don't learn to make yourself open up to people a little. I know it's hard. After living with my psycho parents for years I thought relationships were a curse from hell but Renee's been great, we've been together for almost a year now and... Fox! You're not even listening to me!" "Sorry," Mulder mumbled, pulling himself out of his day dream and sitting down at Roger's desk. "Where you go?" "I was thinking about, amoung other things, how nice it must be to have sex with someone other than yourself on a regular basis," Mulder said wryly. Roger smiled, "Yes, that's one of the many advantages to having a steady girlfriend. That and the fact that after awhile you can just be yourself. I always hated all the first date nonsense. Where are you orginally from? What's your major? And all that." Roger noticed Fox's attention wandering again. He knew that although Fox would never admit it he was terribly lonely and longed to have someone in his life he could depend on, trust, share things with, and when needed take comfort in. He decided to give his friend a kick in the right direction. "Okay. Get up! I've got to meet the lastest candidates in fifteen minutes and you're coming with me, my social impaired friend," Roger ordered. Fox knew Roger, he would make him talk to every girl in the group and would continually draw him into the conversation. He attempted to protest, "But-" "No buts about it Fox. You are going. This is the perfect opportunity to practice talking to women. The tour is only an hour or so long and then we take them to dinner in the dining hall. At most you'll spend three hours in their company and then you'll never see any of them again. It's good practice with no pressure and if you are interested in anyone I'm taking them on a little field trip tomorrow, you can come on that if you want." "Okay, okay," he said, "I'll go." Fox paused, looking down at his jeans and sweater. "Do I look all right?" Roger rolled his eyes, "You're just adorable. Come on!" ***** An hour later Fox Mulder was wandering though the library in search of something to read. Roger was going to kill him for ducking out of the campus tour but he hadn't been able to take one more minute in the company of the cute but vapid brunette named Sarah that attached herself to him. He may be lonely but he wasn't desperate he thought to himself. He was sure Sarah wasn't stupid but she had been shallow enough to kill any interest he might have had. She had hung all over him and kept repeating over and over how jealous her friends would be when they found out she had met an Oxford man. He sighed, attractive or not, he couldn't stand clingy, obvious women. They just seemed so insincere and artifical to him. He pulled a copy Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness off the shelf and slumped down into an overstuffed chair. *** Dana Scully pulled open the door to the library and rushed in. Once hidden among the stacks she took a deep breath. God, she thought, how could so many annoying people be in the same place at the same time. Relax, she told herself, this is the last campus you have to look at. She had just finished her first semester at Berkeley and had been touring east coast colleges on her college break. Her father was being transfered to a naval base in Maryland and although she liked Berkeley she was reluctant to stay in California so far away from her family when she knew she couldn't afford airfare home for breaks. Boston College was the last stop on her list. She had been to Penn State, University of Maryland, UConn, and Brown University. Five colleges in eight days. She laughed. It sounded like some sort of bad vacation tour package. Everthing had all blurred together in her mind and she found herself unable to deal with one more campus tour. So now here she was hiding in the library from both the tour and a very annoying man named Dennis who kept hitting on her. He was a master's degree canadiate and kept hinting she could benefit from the wisdom and experience of an older man. Between him and the irritating droning of some twit behind her's voice she couldn't take it anymore. She snickered to herself as she thought about Dennis. Ugh! The experience of an older man indeed. It may be a month before I turn eighteen but I'm hardly a naive idiot. Although, if I told anyone about my boyfriend last semester they might think I was, she reflected. Dana was still smarting from the break up of her last relationship. She had been seeing a senior at Berkeley who unceremoniously dumped her at Thanksgiving. She hadn't been heartbroken, not really, but her pride was still bruised. He had dumped her the minute he got accepted to Columbia's graduate school. He had met another journalism major there while touring the campus and never given her a second thought. She wasn't sorry about having dated him though. She had learned to go after what she wanted and had also learned if it didn't work out she was strong enough to deal with it. She didn't regret sleeping with him either. Her first experience had been with her high school boyfriend Marcus. It had been special, enjoyable, and worth repeating. She had been in love with him at the time but they had gone their seperate ways when they left home for college. When Kevin had asked her out after the first week of classes, she hadn't been instantly attracted to him but he had a good sense of humor, was polite and fun to be with so she had decided to give it a chance. She always found things worth having were worth taking chances for. She walked up several floors and wandered through the stacks idlely looking for something to read. The library was almost completely deserted. In fact, she thought she was alone until she turned the corner and almost fell over a tall lanky man reading in a lounge chair. He looked up at her. She found herself looking into guarded hazel eyes partily covered by stray locks of brown hair. "Oh, god. He's gorgeous." He blushed slightly and laughed, "Thanks." She flushed a deep crimson red. She hadn't realized she had spoken out loud until he replied. "I, uh..." she faltered, she had never been so embarrassed. "My name is Fox," he said, offering her his hand and gesturing to the chair opposite him indicating she should sit down. He liked her instantly. She was the only person he ever met as awkward as himself, and she was cute too. Petite and dainty with long red hair in a french braid, and a very nice body he noted. "I'm Dana," she said, shaking his hand. As his fingers trailed over her palm she felt a strange warmth spread up her arm into her chest. She quickly broke the brief contact and sat down. He felt her start at the jolt that passed through them both as their hands touched. His hand felt electrified, the sensation moving straight to his groin. Nevermind cute try almost unbearable sexy, he thought. "I'm hiding out from a dreary campus tour," she explained. "Persceptive freshman?" he asked, praying she was older. "No, a transfer student. And you?" "I'm here on break visiting a friend. He's giving one of those deary tours. He tried to coerce me into going but I ducked out and now I'm hiding from him." he admitted sheepishly. He mentally sighed in relief. She was already in college so she must be only a year or two younger than him. He was twenty one so she must be nineteen or twenty, he reasoned. He was relieved, it would be just his luck to be interested in a high school girl. "What are you studying?" she asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Psychology. And you?" "Pre-med." It was the beginning of a conversation that began as stilted but quickly gained momentum. Two hours later Mulder looked out the window and noticed it getting dark. "It's getting late," he noted. He didn't want her to go. He had never felt so comfortable with anyone and he was reluctant to leave but he was sure she had plenty friends and suitors. She was intellegent, good looking, had a dry, witty sense of humor and was easy to talk to. He was certain she was just being friendly, passing the time. He watched her look out the window. "I should go," he said, moving to stand up. "Wait," she pleaded. Afraid he would leave before she knew how to find him again, she stood up abruptly to stop him. Her left foot was asleep from sitting on it, she shifted to compensate. She was attracted to him and found him fascinating. She had never met anyone so good looking and intellegent, and obviously aware of it but still so subdued. She even liked his quirky sense of humor even though he seemed determined to repress it. Several times during their conversation she noticed him holding back a comment as though he thought she might be put off by him. "I don't even-" Her request was cut off as she put weight on her numb foot and fell slightly forward. She put her hands down, bracing herself on the chair's arms to keep from falling on top of him. Her hands landed on top of his. She sucked in a sharp breath as she managed to stop her fall with a foot between their noses. "I'm sorry I-" she stopped again as she looked into his eyes. In the brief second she studied them she read of a thousand longings, needs, musings and wishes. She had never had such a profound and deep look into another person. Whew, potent stuff, she thought. She felt dizzy staring into his eyes, watching them shift color. Silver to green, green to gold, gold to chocolate brown. It seemed reality had briefly shifted. She leaned further forward and when he didn't pull back, she kneeled onto his chair, one leg on either side of his and sat in his lap, sliding her hands up on to his shoulders. Then she leaned forward and lightly kissed him. He stiffened and she almost pulled back. Oh god, what am I doing, she thought, he's going to think I'm an oversexed lunatic. Then she felt his hands on her back pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. She leaned further into him, reaching up to twist her fingers into his hair. He moaned softly as he felt her tongue slide into his mouth. She had such a lush mouth, and the movement of her tongue was bringing to mind images of kittens lapping spilled milk off the floor. He had never been so turned on by a simple kiss. Of course, this wasn't just a kiss, some part of his brain reasoned. He could feel her ass pressing into his thighs, her palms lightly caressing his cheeks, and her breasts crushed against his chest. He was suddenly aware that he was holding her almost too tightly. He released her slightly from the embrace and turned his attention to her neck. She responded to the kisses and light nibbles with a whimper, shifting against his obvious erection. The sound of distant voices in the stairwell suddenly made him remember where they were and he pulled away slightly, his arms sliding to her elbows. "Dana," he whispered. She was afraid to look him in the eye again. "Dana," he repeated. She raised her head to meet his gaze and was stunned. He was looking at her with such intensity she found it hard to breath. He was just as affected by that as I was, not just physically but mentally too, she thought in amazement. Fox was having simular thoughts. She's beautiful, and so tiny I can barely feel her in my lap but I can feel her pulse rippling beneath my hands like wind on a lake. She didn't want to stop anymore than I did, he thought in amazement. If he were backpacking through Ireland like he had done on his last break, he would have thought she was a sprite materialized from the forest to play tricks on a gullible human who could not possibly resist the spell cast by her fairy charm. Suddenly he smiled, happy to be foolish and mortal. "How about I take you to dinner?" She smiled back, "Okay, Fox." End 1 of 4 Part 2 of 4 As The Driven Snow By Johnie JohnieRed@aol.com See part one for disclaimer The next morning he awoke to a sudden blinding light as Roger yanked the blinds open. "All right Houdini. Just where did you disappear to yesterday?" he demanded. "I ah, grph, agh," was all Fox managed. "Oh for god's sake," Roger said thrusting a paper cup at him, "drink the damn coffee. I forgot you lose 40 IQ points every morning before you have it." Fox gratefully peeled the plastic lid off and took several gulps before speaking, "I went to the library." "What about Sarah?" "So shallow she could drown in a puddle Sarah?" Roger laughed, "Okay, I get the point. I won't meddle any further on this visit. Are you coming to Quincy Market and the Aquarium with me and the recruits?" "No, made other plans," he answered deliberately telling him as little as possible. He didn't want Roger pumping him for information. He wanted to hold the experience close, afraid if he mentioned Dana out loud she would disappear like the wood sprite he had imagined her to be. "I won't ask. I'm going out with Renee tonight I'll probably spend the night at her place but let's meet for lunch tomorrow." "Okay, sounds good." He sighed in relief when Roger left. He was supposed to meet Dana in two hours. They had talked for hours over pizza last night and then he had walked her back to the dorm she was staying in. He had only meant to give her a chaste goodnight kiss but she had clung to him, kissing him as deeply and passionately as she had in the library. He pulled away after several minutes, panting. He had kissed her lightly on the forehead and quietly told her he see her tomorrow. He had slept deeply, dreaming of the taste of her pouty lips, the silkiness of her hair, and strangely enough, of kittens. He stretched and padded across the room to the shower eager to start his day with Dana. They spent the entire day together, going to the Boston's Museum of Fine Arts and out to dinner again. They had explored the entire museum, discussing academy art vs. impressionism and several other points of contension in art history. At one point during the day after having talked about an exhausting variety of topics, Dana had asked him, "Shall we discuss cabbages and kings?" Fox had burst into laughter. Dana thought it was one of the loveliest sounds she had ever heard, she suspected he didn't laugh easily. She was shocked at how close she felt to Fox after only two days. She hadn't even minded when he goofily kissed her finger after she cut her cuticle on their map of the museum. It wasn't as though she was always reserved the way she suspected he was. She was usually friendly but didn't develop many intimate friendships. It usually took her awhile to really open up to someone and her family had moved often, not exactly a recipe for finding kindred spirits. She was also shocked at how overwhelming her attraction to him was. She had been in love with Marcus, granted it was puppy love, she realized, but it had still been love and she hadn't been this affected by his voice, his kisses, his touch. With Fox, the awareness of his presence, the very sound of his breathing, and even the involuntary, monotonous movement of his chest as his lungs filled with and expelled air became terribly erotic. If she had stopped to think about it she probably would have been frightened by the severity of it but they were cramming months worth of conversion and dating into two days so she didn't have the time. In fact, she realized they didn't have much time at all, she was flying home tomorrow at noon. So when he offered to walk her to her dorm she stopped walking and turned to look at him. She was freezing and her feet were wet from walking through grey, city slush but she still found herself dreading her return to sunny California tomorrow. She paused for a moment, unsure. "I'm sharing my room," she informed him. She knew his friend was gone for the night. He had told her about Renee and Roger earlier. He said nothing. She stood up on tiptoes and kissed his lower lip. "I want to spend the night with you," she whispered. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle, letting her know it would be okay if she didn't. "Yes, I'm sure," she answered. Oh, so very sure, she thought to herself. This was something worth having, worth taking a chance for. End 2 of 4 Part 3 of 4 As The Driven Snow By Johnie JohnieRed@aol.com see part one for disclaimer They walked back to the dorm in silence. Do this, he urged himself as they negotiated around puddles and slush on the walkways. The voice in his head kept time to the rhythm of their feet on the pavement, give yourself to this woman, this woman, this woman. Fear was skittering around in his skull like a spider trapped under a drinking glass but for once he ignored it. For once his desire was stronger than the frantic movements of the fear. Once back at the dorm, inside the room, Fox turned only the desk lamp on. It illuminated the room with a poor glow, casting more shadow than light. Dana sat down on the bed to pull off her wet suede boots. She watched him pull off his hiking boots and then move across the room to turn the radio on. "Don't," she requested. He sat down next to her and looked at her an explanation. "I want to hear you. I want to hear us, every sound we make," she said softly as he leaned down and kissed her. She felt his lips brush hers and sighed. He tasted like the mulled wine spices she remembered from Christmas eve. She pulled him back on the bed on top of her. They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. Dana felt her universe shrinking to contain only his lips, breath, tongue, and teeth. She had never known kissing to feel like a shifting of energy, each graze of his teeth, each soft lapping of his tongue building an immense static storm in her. She felt his fingers lightly tracing her collarbone, the tendons of her neck, the curve of her cheekbone as if she were a fascinating braille text and he was desparately trying to read her. Then she realized he was reading her, that her body's reactions were telling all her secrets. She dropped her hands to push him slightly off her to the side, to briefly rub his erection through his jeans before beginning to unbutton his shirt. Fox felt his insides tremble as she began to touch him. Having never been so caught up in another person, he was amazed at the control she had gained over his senses. It was as though she had bypassed his brain and was telling his central nervous system what to do. For the first time he eagerly relinquished that control, giving himself completely to the euphoria, until he felt her hand flutter over his heart, parting his shirt. She rested her palm over it. Too close, she can hurt you, a voice in his head screamed. Logically he knew his the seat of his emotions wasn't his heart but the openess and symbolism of her gesture terrified him momentily. And then looking directly at him, she peeled off her own shirt, unclipped her bra and rested his hand over her own rapidly beating heart. He was almost surprised to still feel it in her chest when he could so clearly see it in her eyes. He pushed her bra off and moved down to lavish attention on her breasts. Licking, suckling, fondling, teasing, first one nipple then the other, feeling he might die hearing the soft mewing sounds of pleasure she was making. She pulled him back up for a kiss. The static in her crackled. "Fox, I, I know this sounds trite but nothing has ever been like this. I..." she trailed off, embarrassed. "How is it different?" he asked, curious. "It's..." she paused, she didn't think she could describe it, "it's more intense. I feel like I'm falling into you. I thought..." "What?" he asked, rolling onto his back, pulling her across his chest. She felt his fingers fiddling with the elastic band holding her french braid in. "I shouldn't talk about past experiences it's... well, not polite." He chuckled, "Why were they all better than this?" She noticed his smile didn't reach his eyes and felt a tension pick up in his shoulders. Does he not know what he's doing to me, she thought. She saw the insecurity behind the tension and decided to try to form a description. "I almost feel like I can't even remember them now. You've... ," she paused unabled to put words to it. "Fox, I've been with two other men. One was my high school sweetheart. It was a little awkward between us, it was both our first times but it was warm and loving. I enjoyed being with him but even though I was in love with him at the time, he didn't make me feel like you're making me feel right now," she finished. "Dana," he whispered, kissing her again. She felt his hands in her hair undoing the braid. "I want to see it unbound, I want to see it frame your face," he explained, "I want to watch it spill across my chest and I want to wrap it around my fist." She shook her head back, delighting in the gasp that escaped him as her elbow lenghten hair cascaded down her back and into his hands. "You are so beautiful," he said, winding her hair into his fingers and using it to pull her down for another kiss. "Dana," he whispered, "This will be my first time." She pulled back slightly, shocked, "But..." "But what?" he asked. "But you're so gentle, so good at-" "Well, I have touched and kissed a woman before, you know," he said wryly. She knew he was twenty one years old and also knew almost every women she was even remotely acquainted with would love to be spawled half-naked across his chest like she was. "But you're so much fun to be with and so... so sexy. Why-" "Because I've never wanted another woman the way I want you. And because I don't do meaningless things." She was stunned. He leaned up to suck on her earlobe and whispered against her skin, "I love the way you smell- like sunshine and honey." The pulling sensation on her ear caused her to wiggle in his embrace, impatient to have the rest of her clothes off and she said so. He chuckled, "All right no more clothes." Her hair brushed across his face as she leaned forward placing kisses across his chest. "No more clothes for you either," she demanded, shimmying out of her jeans. "Okay," he agreed, allowing her to undress him. He watched her hands work the buttons on his jeans and tug them down, he saw her hands slide into his boxer shorts and luxuriated in the blissful, mind numbing feeling of her small hands stroking his penis. He pulled her hands away after a few minutes. "If you keep doing that, I won't be able to manage much else," he told her, rolling her onto her back, causing her hair to fan out over her breasts, arms and the bed. She didn't know how the rest of their clothes came off. Everything left between them except skin, tissue, blood and bone seemed to disappear. "I don't share any of myself easily but I want to make love to you, Dana." "Yes," the tiny sound exploded from her mouth. She was so overwhelmed she couldn't manage any other words. Years later, when she won an award for resident of the year she would reflect that although it was satisfing to have her hard work recognized, no accolade she had earned, no praise she had received, nothing in her life had ever made her feel so honored, so exceptional as having Fox be a virgin for her. "Tell me what you like. I want to touch you," he told her. With gentle guidance she showed him, her hand over his. She found he was a quick learner and she promptly removed her hand to enjoy his innovations. When she felt his long fingers slide inside her she began to writh uncontrollably. "You're so wet" he groaned, stroking her. "For you, Fox. For you," she said. "Please, now. I-" "No, Dana. Let me watch you. You are so beautiful like this, so abandoned. I want to watch you come, Dana." Her pulse was racing out of control at his words. She felt the static sharpening to a lighting strike. "I..." She couldn't answer, couldn't consent. The thought of given herself so completely to someone was frightening. Him watching her, playing with her, taking all his pleasure in seeing her and knowing he was doing this to her. She paused, thinking of what he was giving her. "Yes," she managed to force out in a strangled whisper. She let go. The lightening hit, it's bolt becoming lost in the brightness that enveloped her. Then she became the light. Light lost in light. Fox had to fight to continue breathing as he watched her. All of him was so focused on her, pleasing her, seeing her, that he found he had to consentrate on involuntary bodily functions otherwise he was afraid his heart would stop. "Please," she requested when she could speak again. She watched him fumble with a condom and then eagerly pulled him down to her. She could feel him shaking. Wrapping her legs around his waist she arched up around him and felt him slip inside her. "Dana," he whispered. It was a barely recognizable version of her name. Moving with him she realized how inadaquete her earlier attempt at a description was. She wasn't falling into him, she was becoming him. She was a cartoon character whose black edges had been erased. Her colors were bleeding out into him, leaving her a shell with the only color she could see behind her closed eyelids a bright blinding white before the world, and she, collapsed into blackness, all the colors in the rainbow mixing in him, and rushing back into her at once. **** In the early am, Dana woke up to the feeling of Fox's lips on the back of her neck. "Good morning." She snuggled back against him. "What time is it?" she asked. "Around four-thirty I think," he answered. Neither of them commented on the time, they both knew how few hours they had left. Dana turned in his embrace to face him. His eyes were grey-green in the faint light, she found herself unable to look away from them. "Make love with me again," she requested. "Yes," he murmered, his lips descending to hers as she pressed her palms into his chest, wishing she could reach in and leave an imprint on his heart. ******** Roger quietly turned the key in the lock and opened the door. He was back early and he didn't want to wake Fox if he was still asleep. He knew his friend had suffered from bouts of insomnia since his sister was kidnapped. Peeking in to see if he was awake, Roger received the shock of a lifetime. Fox was asleep all right. Asleep, lying on his back with a petite red head draped across his chest like she grew out of him. A thought popped into his head. So this is where the red-headed Berkeley student had disappeared to. Her roomate told him she had said she would be "busy". He chuckled to himself, I guess my matchmaker days are over. I thought Fox didn't like redheads. He slowly pulled the door closed. The faint click in the lock woke Dana. She looked at the clock, it read 10am. Shit, she cursed, her flight left at noon. She slid out of Fox's embrace and pulled on his sweater to ward off the chill of the room. It hung down to her knees. "You look much better in that than I do." She turned around. He was still lying on the bed, his hair mussed, spawled out completely naked on the white sheets. "I like what you're wearing too," she commented dryly. He laughed. "Fox, my flight leaves in two hours," she said pointing at the clock, "I have to hurry so I can catch the subway out to the airport." "Don't hurry. I have to bring my father's car over to the airport anyway I'll give you a ride," he told her. "But I thought you were staying a couple more days?" He paused. "No, no I'm going to leave today." She smiled mischievously, "Then we have a little extra time. You said no one's in the adjoining suite, we have the bathroom all to ourselves. Want to share a shower?" "Sure, if you promise to let me wash behind your ears for you." End 3 of 4 Part 4 of 4 As The Driven Snow By Johnie JohnieRed@aol.com See part one for disclaimer While Dana retrieved her luggage and listened to several snide comments from her temporary roomate about having been out all night, Fox called the airline. He was able to get on a 4pm flight to London. As he hung up the phone Roger walked in. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass on lunch Rog," he apologized, "I'm catching a flight back this afternoon." I guess last night didn't work out, he mused. Then he thought about the way they had been holding each other. "Is everything okay?" he asked, sensing something different in his friend. Fox smiled at him, "Everything's fine." ****** The final boarding call for Dana's flight had just been announced. She pulled back from Fox's embrace. "Dana," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Goodbye, Fox," "Goodbye," he returned. She hesitated and then reached up guided his mouth down to hers. The kiss was different. She felt herself falling not into, but away from him. "Goodbye," she said again. She walked to the terminal, turned around to look at him one last time and disappeared. ****** Fox stared out the airplane window as his flight took off. "Mercy! That wasn't as bad as I thought," said a voice next to him. He looked over at his seatmate, an elderly woman clutching a rosary. "First time flying?" he asked unnecessarily. "How did you know?" she asked, and went on to tell him her name was Stella and all about how she was going to Britain to visit her first grandchild. She stopped, "I'm sorry I've been going on and on and I haven't even asked your name." He was about to speak when the erotic image of Dana, in the early morning light, astride him with her head thrown back, her hair streaming down to tickle his thighs, came to him. In the back of his head he heard her voice moaning his name, "Fox, Fox...". He smiled, extended his hand to Stella and said, "Mulder, call me Mulder." ****** September 1982 As Dana Scully boarded her flight to Baltimore she couldn't help but think about last time she boarded a plane. She was a different person than she had been those nine months ago. Not drastically so, she reasoned, more like a different hue of the same color. She found she had become a little more reserved, a little more serious, more self-contained and intense than she had been last winter. A little more like Fox. As though the part of him he gave her had stayed with her and integrated itself into her personality. Becoming Fox's lover had somehow made parts of her darker. The experience had been a blinding flash that left an afterimage somewhere inside her. In it's brightness it cast shadows, shadows that, she mused, accounted for the deeper shade of her character. She didn't know that Fox had noticed simular but contrasting charges in himself. And she didn't know that he often wondered what school Dana Scully had chosen to attend after Roger informed him that she turned down Boston College. Sometimes she tried to imagine what Fox was doing but since she only knew his first name and where he went to school, she knew she couldn't really find out so mostly she didn't bother. She wasn't the wistful type. Instead, she found she often tried to imagine what the form the afterimage he left on her had taken. Usually, she pictured it as the negative image of an almost impossibly white neuron burned into a black background. The neuron floated peacefully, it's axon and the delicate tendrils of it's dendrites stretched out into the darkness, receptors waiting. Waiting patiently for a message, a message they were sure would come again. END 4 of 4