"Perception of Snow"
Category: Christmas, MSR
Rating: NC-17
Summary:  Christmas Eve with Mulder, Scully reconciles with herself events from
past year.
Spoilers:  Mainly FTF, Triangle, Detour, Emily, Flukeman, many small references
to past cases.
Disclaimer:  They don't belong to me, they belong to Chris Carter and 1013, so
please don't sue me...it's Christmas, you know.

Dedicated to downtown St. Louis, which looks beautiful from my office view at
34 stories.  


"Perception of Snow"

I looked up at the monitor in the middle of Lambert airport. The word
"canceled" flashed harshly by Delta's Flight 148 to Washington, D.C.

The east coast was under ice and snow and all flights were canceled.  

I thought about my mom, about her cooking, about waking up tomorrow morning to
the smell of her pancakes and muffins. To the sounds of my nieces and nephews
happy cries at discovering Santa's visit. To going to church in the
mid-morning. All things Christmas in the Scully tradition.

And I thought about Mulder. About how his lips felt pressed against mine when
he kissed me good bye an hour ago.

Merry Christmas, Dana Scully.

I walked down the corridor, searching the monitors for Mulder's flight to
Greenwich, Connecticut. He was heading back there to spend Hanukkah with his
mom, his first time in years spending the holiday with her. I didn't know the
flight number. I just knew he was gone and I wouldn't be seeing him for days.

We had been downstairs, in the baggage claim area. Mulder was returning the
rental car. It had been a stressful case, one about a serial rapist on the run.
Mulder's expertise as a profiler was used to try and determine his whereabouts
and where he might have fled to. We were both tired and Kirsch had us
overworked. To top it all off, it had started snowing in St. Louis and made us
late. I hated the snow.

His flight was leaving before mine, and was in the opposite direction of my
terminal. This was the story of our lives.   Barely enough time to finish one
thing before it's off somewhere else. I wanted to talk to Mulder, to tell him
things I wanted him to know, before the holiday. Before the New Year. But
Mulder heard his flight number over the intercom and turned to me with his best
apologetic face.

"That's my flight, I better go," he said. His hand was on my shoulder and he
gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Have a good holiday," I said. I wanted to hug him, but his other hand was
holding his overnight bag and his shoulder was supporting a garment bag. I
opted for a kiss on the cheek and so I rose up and leaned in, but he suddenly
turned his head to the right and I was kissing his lips instead.

It was unexpected. I had no idea how long it lasted. But his mouth was warm and
I could feel his breath escape against mine. He tasted of sunflower seeds and
coffee. He pulled away and smiled softly at me. "I'm sorry, Scully."

"Sorry?" I whispered, my head spinning from the sensation.

Mulder's eyes turned upwards, "Mistletoe."

My eyes followed his. Sure enough, someone had hung mistletoe amid the pine
roping and bows.

"I'll call you when I get there," he said as he turned to go.  

I watched Mulder walk away, his tall form shrouded in his overcoat. He stepped
on the escalator and turned around to stare at me.  

I fought the urge to follow him. Instead, I watched him disappear out of my
life.

I shook the memory out of my head and walked to the ticket counter. Life had
become so unpredictable lately. We had been through so much. Losing the
X-files, Gibson Preiss, working for Kersh.  

Mulder telling me he loved me four weeks ago.

I touched my lips, they were chapped from the cold.

So much had changed, except for us. We were still together. Still searching for
answers and finding only more questions. 

I stood in line at the Delta counter for about twenty minutes. The next flight
they could schedule me on was tomorrow evening, weather permitting. They were
going to put me up for the night, at a nice hotel downtown for my trouble and
because it was Christmas Eve.

I gathered my bags and walked through the airport, heading for the main exit to
try and catch a taxi. Lambert was so crowded, and with all the flights being
canceled, I fought my way through the gates. I should call my mom and let her
know I wasn't coming home tonight.

"Scully!"

Someone was calling my name...or a name that sounded like mine. It was hard to
hear in the crowd, but I heard it again.

"Scully!"

I stopped and looked around, at the sea of faces around me.  

"Scully, over here!"

It was coming from a small, airport bar over in an alcove. It was Mulder. He
was sitting on a barstool, waving at me like a lunatic.  

I pushed my way through the crowd, I could feel relief washing over me at the
sight of his face.

"Scully, aren't you going to miss your flight?"

"Did you miss yours?" I replied, perching on the barstool next to him.

"Canceled." he said. I'd only been separated from him about an hour, but it
felt like forever. His tie was shoved haphazardly in his coat pocket. His hair
all askew. A five o'clock shadow had fallen on his cheeks. I could tell by his
breath that this wasn't his first drink.

"Mine too. They're putting me up for the night." The bartender looked
inquisitively at me, but I shook my head.

"Oh." Mulder downed the remainder of his drink, and smiled even wider at me.
"Well, I guess my bad luck has rubbed off on you. I was hoping you'd have made
it home."

"Have you turned in your ticket yet?"

"Uh, no. Got it right here." he tapped his breast pocket. "I just came here
when I saw my flight was canceled. So, where are you staying?"

I pull my voucher out of my purse. "The Marriott Downtown."

"Downtown?" says Mulder, pursing his lips up. "That's a while from here.   In
the snow."

His last words sounded almost ominous, I didn't know if it was deliberate or it
was from the alcohol. Mulder and I have no love of the snow, not since
Antarctica.

"Mulder, why don't you find out if your flight has been rescheduled. I'm here
until tomorrow night."

"Well, if you're here and if I'm here, do you want to spend Christmas Eve
together?" he asked carefully, as if he was intruding on me in some way.  

I reached out and touched his arm to reassure him. "I don't want to be alone on
Christmas."

Mulder's hand covered mine, his thumb tracing small circles. I could feel my
facing flushing at his touch. He leaned closer with a look of intensity.
"Neither do I."

*****

Mulder managed to flag down a taxi for us. The snow was falling even harder,
and a good three inches already covered the road. It had also gotten much
colder. We huddled together in the back seat for warmth. Mulder's face was red
and his fingers were freezing, he had forgotten his gloves. I took the liberty
of warming them in my mitten-clad ones, rubbing them back and forth. Mom's
stocking stuffer from last year had come in handy.

It took over an hour to get from Lambert Airport to downtown St. Louis, with
highways being in the best condition and the side streets still covered. Our
driver seemed unphased by the snow, but after a few skids, Mulder and I weren't
so confident. He took us right into the heart of downtown, which was lit up
with lights everywhere. I peered out the window and tried to forget about the
snow.

It continued falling steadily and it filled me with such dread, the sight of it
made me feel strange and sick.

"Kinda like D.C., isn't it?" Mulder commented, his face near mine as he stared
out with me. Mulder was good at invading one's personal space, something that
took me a while to get used to. He was always standing close to me, his hand
often resting on the small of my back or reading over my shoulder. Mulder
always gives me his undivided attention, his dark eyes focused completely on me
when I speak.   I had gotten so used to his presence, that sometimes when he's
not with me, I feel incomplete.

"Hey, that's where Mark McGwire his #62," Mulder exclaimed, pointing at Busch
Stadium a few blocks ahead.  

They had put alternating red, green and white spotlights along the top, and it
was glowing in the haze.

"Scully," Mulder whispered, his lips against my right ear.

"Yes?" I answered, trying to focus on the Stadium and not his extreme
proximity.
  
"I'm determined to make your Christmas better than last years."

That was a tall order to fill. Last year was Emily. My sweet angel Emily who
came into my life for such a brief moment and changed it forever. I still cry
at night over her, when her face haunts my dreams.

The Marriott was located right near the Stadium, and our driver pulled sharply
up on the curb. Mulder shuffled me inside, holding my arm to keep me from
slipping on the ice. I hadn't packed any boots, so my heels were little
protection against the wetness and cold. Mulder took care of our suitcases and
brought them in.  

The hotel was beautiful, much nicer than a lot of the places Mulder and I end
up. We'd been everywhere in the last six years, frequent flyer doesn't even
begin to describe it for us. The X-files had brought us to most of the fifty
states, Canada, Russia. I told Mulder I'm waiting for a flukeman to end up in
Paris, so at least I can see France someday.

"Welcome to the Marriott Downtown," the single hotel clerk said. "Do you have a
reservation?"

"I have a voucher." I started digging through my purse. "My flight got
canceled."

"Yes, we've had a lot of that this evening," she replied, taking my ticket and
typing the information into her computer. "I can upgrade your room to a suite
with a breakfast buffet. Would you both like a room overlooking the Arch?"

I heard Mulder laugh underneath his breath. This happened often, people assumed
we were together.

"I need a separate room," he said, winking at her and wearing his know-it-all
grin. "We've had a little fight and...."

"Mulder," I warned.

"Careful, Scully, you need to be nice or Santa won't bring you anything
tomorrow," he said, pulling out his wallet and slapping his credit card down on
the counter. "Or would you rather be naughty?"

"Mulder, I think you're naughty enough for both of us," I quipped.

The girl at the counter was trying not to laugh at our banter. "Are you both
staying for one night?" 

"Unless our flights get delayed tomorrow," I replied.  

The computer printed out our receipts. "Room 768 and 1294. The elevators are
around the corner. Enjoy your stay."

"Thank you." I folded up the papers and shoved them into my pocket as we headed
for the elevators.

"Scully, why don't we meet in about an hour for dinner, at 8:00 p.m.? It looks
like they have a nice restaurant here. I know it's not a substitute for your
mom's cooking, but...."

"It's fine, Mulder," I said, taking my bags from him. Our fingers brushed in
the exchange. "We'll make it work."



I was glad I upgraded my room. It looked more like a living room than a hotel
room, with a nice couch and warm furnishings. The bathtub was huge, complete
with whirlpool jets. I quickly turned on the water as hot as I could and walked
back out to sit on the bed. 

My shoes were damp, I quickly pulled them off and laid them to dry on the
heater.    

I peeled off my suit and searched for my toiletries bag. By the time I walked
back into the bathroom, it was steamy and warm. I sunk into the tub, letting
the jets soothe my cold limbs and tired neck. I had brought a small bottle of
vanilla body wash, which smelled rich and relaxing to me. As I lay submersed,
my thoughts drifted sleepily to Mulder and the passing thought that he could
fit quite nicely in the tub with me. Of the look on his face smiling back at
me. 

Then the image faded and I saw Mulder, lying on the ice and snow beside me.  
Unconscious. In the middle of that frozen wasteland all alone. I was sure we
were going to freeze out there. That he was going to die saving me. I crawled
across the bitter snow, clad only in his snow suit and gathered him in my arms.
I could barely feel my hands, my legs, my face. I held him tightly, trying to
share whatever body heat there was. I rocked him back and forth, whispering his
name. Pleading with him not to die and leave me all alone. I promised God
anything just to let him live.

I shivered myself awake and found that the bath water had grown colder.

I glanced at my watch, which I had left on the bathtub edge. It was already
7:30 p.m. and I had dozed off for a good 15 minutes. I wrapped a thick towel
around me and padded out to my room.

I picked up the phone and automatically dialed. "Hi mom, it's Dana."

"Dana, we called the airport and they said your flight was canceled. Where are
you?"

"Still in St. Louis. It's starting to ice and snow here too, but they have me
rescheduled for tomorrow night."

I could hear her sigh, "Well, I'm glad your safe and sound. The east coat was
hit hard. Is Fox with you?"

I smiled when I heard his first name. Not Fox, Mulder. "Yes, his flight was
canceled too."

"Good. At least I don't have to worry about either of you." I could hear my
nieces and nephews yelling in the background. "We'll miss you Dana. But we'll
spend the weekend together. And, we'll have lots of celebrating left to do when
you get home. If Fox has missed his holiday plans and wants to come along, I've
still got a spare bed."

"I'll tell him," I said. She always seemed to understand me, my job, the risks.
My mom rarely passed judgment. And that understanding applied to Mulder, even
if other people in my family blamed him for past events. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, Dana. You and Fox have a nice Christmas Eve and I'm thinking about
you both."

"I'll call you tomorrow. Night, mom."

"Night, sweetheart."  

I hung up the phone and stared at the receiver for a good five minutes. Then I
smiled.

I looked through my wardrobe, all wrinkled and distorted from my suitcase.
There was nothing really appropriate for an impromptu Christmas dinner. I
wanted to look nice for Mulder.    

One of my suits was a two piece ensemble, with a straight tank dress underneath
a blazer. It was a dark hunter green. Without the blazer and a few accessories,
I could make it work.  

I dried my hair out, letting it be fuller and curlier than usual. I wore a
little more makeup, in darker shades. I knew Mulder had never seen me in a deep
red lipstick before. I had some small poinsettia earrings I could wear with my
cross. As luck would have it, I had one pair of hose left with no runs. I felt
almost nervous as I slipped into my dried shoes, or was it anticipation?

*****

I saw Mulder standing in the lobby and it made my heart stop for a second. I'd
seen that particular suit on him many times, but tonight, it didn't look the
same. The cut was perfect for his tall frame, the light pinstripes giving
definition. He had even chosen a very plain and classic stripe for his tie.
Normally, his ties were explosions of silk color that had a life of their own.

His eyes met mine and he made a face as if he approved of my choice of attire,
pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes. 

"Mulder," I said, approaching him. "Are you ready?"

Mulder winked at me. "I'm sorry, Miss...as beautiful as you are, I'm here with
someone."

"You are, huh?" 

"My partner. She's about your height, wearing a black pantsuit, FBI badge on
her lapel. She smells of formaldehyde."

"Well, if I see her, I'll tell her you already have plans with me."

"Our table is ready," Mulder said. His fingers casually reached over and
grasped mine, lacing with them. He pulled me into the dining room. "Nonsmoking,
of course."

Mulder held the chair out for me, and after I scooted in, his fingers came to
rest on my bare upper arms. I felt his face near mine. "You look beautiful,
Scully."

I could hear the sincerity in his tone, it wasn't one of his funny offhand
remarks or clever innuendo. It was serious.  

"Thank you," I replied, after he sat down across from me. It was a small table,
intimate.   I noticed there was a bottle of wine chilling. "Wine, Mulder?"

He grinned his Cheshire cat grin. I pulled the vintage out. It was a very
expensive Merlo.  

"You know Kersh will love this on the expense reports."

"It's Christmas Eve, Scully. That's the last time I want to hear Ebenezer
Kersh's name."

Our waiter came and poured the wine. It tasted smooth and rich and it warmed me
from the inside out.  

"Do you like it?" Mulder asked, his eyes studying my reaction.

"It's wonderful," I replied. I could feel my face flushing and he watched me
take another sip. I had no idea Mulder knew anything about wine. But with his
eidetic memory, who knew all the strange and useful things stored in there?

We had nearly half the bottle by the time our food arrived, Mulder insisted
that I order something extravagant, so I opted for the seafood wellington,
while he chose a prime rib. I've eaten many meals with Mulder, from fast food
in the car to every greasy spoon across this country to fine restaurants at
many hotels. I could order for him pretty much anywhere. Was there life before
Mulder? I was starting to wonder.

"I called my mom," I said, spreading the napkin in my lap. "She was glad we
were safe and sound. Did you call yours?"

Mulder avoided my eyes and stared down at his plate, "Uh, yeah."

"I bet she was disappointed, since you haven't spent Christmas together in a
long time."

"Well, holidays at the Mulder's hasn't been exactly "happy" since Samantha.
And, after the divorce....well, it was pretty nonexistent. You get used to it."


"I guess this year, you both were starting over?"

Mulder sat back in his chair and exhaled. "Scully, I'm not going to lie to you.
Not tonight."

"Mulder?"

"I wasn't going to spend it with my mom. We tried getting together over
Thanksgiving, and it didn't go well."

"Mulder," I said., reaching across the table and covering his hand with mine.
"You should have told me. You could have come home with me."

"I knew you were going to say that, and I didn't want you to make me the Scully
family charity this year," he withdrew his hand.

The bitterness in his tone was just a defense mechanism. Mulder was very good
at pushing people away and I knew him well enough not be pushed. "Mulder, I'm
serious. When I spoke with my mom, she even invited you over for the weekend."

"Oh, I know Bill would just love having me there."

"He'll be gone by the weekend, he has to work. My mom cares about you, Mulder.
You're my partner, you watch my back."

"Scully, I don't want you to feel obligated..."
 
"It's not obligation, Mulder. It's because I wanted to be with you on
Christmas. But I wasn't going to keep you from your family given the
circumstances."

Mulder closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head. He leaned in again and took
my hand in both of his. "I'm sorry, Scully."

"You're forgiven," I smile reassuringly at him. "This time."

"You know, Frohike made me a nice offer for Christmas day....."

"Really? And what might that be?"

"Checking out Y2K glitches by hacking into government computers."

"Hmmm, maybe I'll spend Christmas with Frohike," I replied, finishing another
mouthful of shrimp.

"Please, Scully.....do you have any idea what he's going to say when he finds
out I'm spending it with you? I mean, that's Frohike Scully Fantasy #103."

I laugh out loud and cover my mouth with my napkin, "I don't even want to know
what one through 102 are!"

We finished our dinner, reminiscing about the Gunmen and other strange
characters we had met. Anyone who could hear us must have thought we were
insane, talking about shape shifters, demons, aliens and the Stupendous Yappi.

"Can I interest you in dessert this evening? We have a special tonight-Death by
Chocolate, featuring three kinds of chocolate, fresh strawberries and cherry
liquor," the waiter asked as he cleared our table.

"Dessert, Scully?" Mulder inquired.

"We'd have to split it, I doubt I can eat a whole piece by myself."

He brought back a large slice of cake placed on a triangular plate, two colors
of chocolate drizzled over it in a crisscross pattern.

I watched as Mulder takes the fork and cut off a piece which I assumed was for
him. But he brought it to my lips and waited for them to part.

"Tell me what it tastes like."
 
I opened my mouth and closed it around the cake. It tasted like my mom's
brownies, only richer with cherry liquor. I smiled at its flavor, I smiled at
Mulder. "It's very rich."

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. His finger reached up to the corner of my mouth
and wiped a bit of chocolate sauce off. I could feel my face blush red at his
touch. My heart raced when he brought his finger to his own lips and tasted it.
"Very rich."

I cut the next piece and pretended to put it in mouth, but then I offered it to
him.  

He laughed underneath his breath, "Are you tempting me?"

"What does the Death by Chocolate mean? Do you think anyone has really died
from this dessert?" I asked thoughtfully, distracting myself from the way his
mouth tugged playfully at the fork.

"I think I might," he whispered, watching me devour the next piece.  

*****

After dinner, we wandered the hotel. Mulder's hand holding mine as we walked
around. There was nobody in the bar, except a solitary bartender and one piano
player, a young kid who looked like he was in college. He was tapping out
"Merry Christmas, Baby" with a lot of flair.

"Wait here." Mulder left me by the bartender and walked up to the piano. He
whispered to the kid, and they both stared at me. Only God knew what he was
telling him. I watched Mulder slip him some money.  He strolled back to me,
with that grin that always made me wary.

"How much did you give him,Mulder?" I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow at
him.

He dodged the question, and took me in his arms. "He'll play any song you want.
For as long as you want."

I had danced with Mulder before. Dancing is a wonderful diversion, you can hold
someone as close as you want in public and it's completely acceptable.  

The kid played softly a familiar memory. He surprised us by singing, low and
quiet to match his playing.

"....make the Yuletide gay......from now own, our troubles will be miles
away......"

For now, troubles did seem very far away. My world was just Mulder, this
evening, this dance. His body was pressed against mine, moving with me in
perfect tandem. I closed my eyes and dreamt of Christmases past. Of Ahab. Of
Melissa. Of getting up early on Christmas morning and fighting with my brothers
over the toys.   

".....faithful friends....who are dear to us....gather near to us.....once
more......" 

I thought of Mulder spending this Christmas alone, and I whispered a silent
prayer of thanks that he was with me.  

"...and have yourself....a merry little Christmas....now....."

Maybe it was the music, the wine, the dancing, but I felt happy and giddy.   I
stepped away from him and grinned wickedly.  

"Joy to the World," I called out to the kid. "The Three Dog Night version."

Mulder stared at me, and I watched his face light up with recognition.

"You said any song, Mulder," I reminded him.  

He banged the keys hard and boisterously and started the song off for us,
"Jeremiah was a bull frog, was a good friend of mine, I never understood a
single word he said and I helped him drink his wine."

"C'mon Mulder, you made me sing this to you. It's your turn." I laughed as he
swung me around in his arms.

"Singin' joy to the world, all the boys and girls, joy to the fishes in the
deep blue sea, joy to you and me," Mulder sang softly along with the piano
player. I laughed, the second verse was mine.

"If I were the king of the world, I'd tell you what I'd do, I'd throw away the
cars and the bars and the wars and make sweet love to you," I sang loudly and
off-key. That night, out in the forest, I didn't have the nerve to sing that
line to him. But I did now.

"Oooh, Scully, you tease," he whispered as we rocked back and forth.

"Joy to the world all the boys and girls, joy to the fishes in the deep blue
sea, joy to you and me," the kid sang. He was very good. 

"Next verse, Mulder," I ordered.

"You know I love the ladies, love to have my fun, I'm a hot night rider in a
rainbow flyer and a straight shootin' son of a gun," he sang in a low and sexy
voice, just to me.

"Joy to the world, all the boys and girls joy to the fishes in the deep blue
sea, joy to you and me....."

****

We closed the bar. I had never closed a bar before, but at 1:00 a.m., it was
time to go. Ryan, our piano player, wished us both a Merry Christmas.

My feet hurt from dancing, and I took my shoes off, carrying them in the hand
that Mulder wasn't holding. I smelled of cigarettes and sweat and Mulder's
cologne.   We walked back through the hotel, which was dark and quiet.  

Something sparkling caught my eye and I stopped, tugging Mulder's arm.

"What is it?" he whispered.

It was a Christmas tree. A huge Christmas tree at least 12 feet tall. It was
lit up in pure white lights, with a golden angel on top. The garlands were in
gold and silver, weaving their way down. The ornaments reflected the light in
glass shimmers of every color. It was beautiful.

"Merry Christmas, Scully," Mulder said, breaking the silence. "C'mon, there is
something else I want you to see."

It wasn't until we were on the twelfth floor that I realized we were going to
Mulder's room.  

"It's the view, Scully," he reassured me as he opened the door. "You have to
see this."

Mulder didn't even bother to turn the lights on, we walked across the dark room
to the window. Mulder drew the thick drapes apart. "Look."

I stepped to the glass and stared out at the river front. The Arch was a dark
silhouette, reaching up to the sky and then falling back again. The lights from
downtown were reflected in the river. Boats docked along the edge were
decorated for the holidays. But there was snow. It fell into the water, it made
the air hazy, it was everywhere. The sky was thick with it, and from the
reflections, it made the night glow something unworldly. It was a silent storm
of white. Unrelenting.

"It's beautiful, Mulder," I said quietly, my forehead resting against the
glass, my fingertips pressed against it. "Except for the snow. I can't handle
the snow."

I felt his arms slide around my waist, pulling me back into his arms,
protectively. He knew what I meant.

"Do you think snow will ever be the same for us, after Antarctica?" he asked.  

"I don't know," I whispered, my voice shaky and distant.  

Images flashing in my mind again. Seeing the ship. Holding him. The sun
blinding us both against the snow. Bitter, bitter cold. Mulder went to the end
of the earth to find me. He risked everything to find me...and I couldn't even
tell him...

"Scully," he said gently.  I had started to tremble and he turned me around to
face him. I could feel the tears in my eyes, stinging.    When I blinked, one
fell and he brushed it quickly away. I never cry in front of Mulder, at least,
I never try to. I'm supposed to be the strong one.

"Antarctica.  I'm sorry I mentioned it," he whispered.

I was determined not to cry. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on
something. "No, Mulder. I'm glad you mentioned it. We never talk about. We
never talk about that day. I can never repay you for what you did for me. For
risking everything to bring me back. Sometimes Mulder....how I treat you....I
don't know why you even put up with me. I mean, you tried to tell me something
a few weeks ago, but I wouldn't listen. I just dismissed it as something you
didn't mean, something said under medication. But it's because I'm afraid
Mulder. I'm afraid of losing you, of all that we are, of all that we
have....Mulder, I don't know what I'd do without you...."

I was rambling, thoughts jumping in my head faster than I could verbalize them.
But he understood.

His eyes searched mine, I didn't know what he was looking for. But I could feel
his hands on my face, tracing the curve of my cheek, the fullness of my lips.  

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Scully."

Before I knew it, my lips were on his. I was kissing Mulder. Hard. I could feel
the scratch of his stubble against my chin, his tongue in my mouth. Everything.
I wanted to pour everything I couldn't say into this kiss, I wanted my
intentions clear.

Our lips parted and we just stared at each other.  

I was not sorry. 

"I love you Mulder."

The words just came out of my mouth and I felt such a sense of freedom the
moment they were spoken. It was over. There was no more denial.

Mulder's eyes grew dark, but in them burned an intensity I'd never seen before.
He tilted my head up to meet his lips and he kissed me again. This time, it
was slower and deeper. I finally had to break away to catch my breath.

It wasn't until Mulder's thumbs brushed away tears that I realized I was
crying. But they were tears of relief.  

"You are all I have, Scully," he said, kissing my forehead. "There's isn't a
place in this world I wouldn't go to get you back. It all starts and ends with
you."

Mulder stepped away from me and sat in an armchair. He reached out for me and
drew me into his lap, into his arms.   We sat there in the dark for a long
time, holding each other. We spoke little, letting our hands and lips say what
we couldn't.

The deep understanding we had for each other was never more apparent. Our lives
had been parallel lines, each mirroring the other. Now that final barrier was
down, there was nothing stopping us from letting the lines cross. 

There was no mistaking the haze in the air, the feeling in the room that
surrounded us. It was arousal. All I wanted was to be with him, completely.  
Mulder's hands stopped mine as I fingered the buttons on his shirt.

"Scully," he breathed. "You don't have to do this. Believe me, I could die
right now and I'd be a happy man."

"I don't want you to die, Mulder," I said with a kiss to his ear. "But let me
make you a happy man." 

I loved him. This was the man I loved and I wanted him. We'd nearly lost each
other so many times, that it just scared me. How much time had gone by that I
had wasted not being with him.   I envied Mulder, his eidetic mind. This night
would forever be in his memory.  

We kissed with reckless abandon, reaffirming our decision. No regrets.

Mulder found the zipper at the back of my dress and I gasp when he pulled it
down. I had to stand up to let it fall of my body, he smiled wickedly when I
did. He stood up and embraced me, lifting me off my feet. We shifted closer to
bed. It was chilly by the window.

His fingers had moved to the sensitive skin my stomach, working their way up my
ribcage. Caressing me.

He fumbled with the back of my bra and I heard a low moan escape his lips. His
hands came around to the front and found the hook there. "In all my fantasies
about you, I never had your bra fastening in the front."

Mulder was enjoying this, and so was I. I wasn't embarrassed or shy about
anything. This was Mulder, my Mulder. I knew him better than I knew myself.
That's what made it so easy, so pleasurable, so familiar. I trusted him
completely.

His fingers unhooked my bra, and his hands slid over my breasts. My head reeled
from the sensation.  

Suddenly, our clothes seemed like obstacles. I worked my arms out of the bra,
feeling freed from its constraints. I pried Mulder's shirt off, wanting nothing
more that the feel of his skin on mine.  

"You are so warm," Mulder commented. "Your skin is all flushed." 

I kissed his neck, his clavicle and I worked on unfastening his pants. I think
I impressed him with how quickly I managed to remove them.

"Scully, remind me never to let you strip search anyone," he mused, his hands
everywhere.

I could feel him against me, hard and insistent. It aroused me further, just
knowing that there was no going back at this point. That I wanted him so badly
inside me, to know what that felt like. It was powerful.

He picked me up and laid me on the bed, settling himself beside me. He kissed
roughly and playfully as he slid my hose and panties down my legs. "You are so
beautiful, Scully."

I touched the scar beneath his collar bone, from where I shot him. We looked at
each other, sharing that memory silently.   I slid his boxer off, using mostly
my toes.  

"Your talents scare me," he said. His fingers were laced with mine, and he
rested them back on the bed, pinning me gently.

"Don't move," he ordered. I felt his body slide down mine, stopping to kiss me
in various places as he worked his way lower. 

I was scared, I was thrilled, I was on fire. I felt out of control, wild and
dangerous all at once.   I watched the shadows on the ceiling as his mouth
descended on me. The sensation of his face against my thighs, his tongue across
my clitoris and the knowledge that this was Mulder was so overwhelming. I was
gripping the headboard, trying to steady myself against him. He was kissing me
in places I never dreamed of. I breathed raggedly and forced my body to relax.
The tension was consuming me fast.

My hands traveled down to his head, and I ran my fingers through his hair, to
get his attention. He looked up at me and I nodded. It was time, I couldn't
hold on any more.  

Mulder's hands caressed me as he settled back against me. His elbows were on
either side of my head, so his face was just inches from mine, his hands in my
hair.

"Slowly," I instructed . . wanting to savor every single second. "Carefully."

"Anything you want."

I kept my arms around his neck, keeping him close to me. He moved with the
utmost gentleness and skill into me and once I relaxed around him, I smiled at
him. I could see his dark eyes even in the low light, they glistened. I wanted
him to know.

"I love you," I said, as his hands lifted my hips against him. "I do."

Mulder stopped for just a moment and stared at me. He said nothing at all.
Instead, I felt him inside me, moving, thrusting. It was so intense. I felt a
sigh escape my lips. What was unspoken, he was telling me in other ways.

I could sense his loneliness, his desperate need for me, to be wanted.

I kept his eyes locked with mine, watching him make love to me. His face was at
once mysterious and unreadable and yet, held an openness and closeness. I
kissed him a couple times between jagged breaths as we fell into the rhythmic
thrusts. He was watching my reactions, too. What pleased me. The sounds I made.
He focused on me.    I cried out when I climaxed hard and it consumed me
whole.

I was still reeling from my own pleasure when he came. It felt warm and
wonderful and complete. He moaned and held himself inside me, and I could feel
him. That in an of itself gave me such happiness. To feel his release. To know
he shared this with me.

He fell against me, I could feel his heart against my chest. I kept him locked
in that position for a long time. 

When he lifted his head. . .I brushed the perspiration from his forehead. ..and
he gazed down at me.   His face held no anxiety, stress, or whatever it was
that constantly haunted Mulder. He smiled and I smiled. 

"I love you," he said, fingers smoothing the hair from my face. "I love you so
much."

They were the last words spoken before we fell asleep, happy, satisfied,
exhausted.

******

I crawled out of bed, the room was still dark. Mulder was asleep, his tall form
had been curled around mine. The clock read 6:23 a.m. I never could sleep late
on Christmas.

I quietly walked over to the window, our clothes and shoes were lying
everywhere. The aftermath, I smiled.

I peered through the window, it was still snowing lightly. But, the heavy
clouds were gone.  In the morning's early sun, the snowflakes looked like tiny
diamonds falling from the sky. Each sparkling, crisp, clean, white. It was
beautiful to me again. The whole city covered in a blanket of sparkling snow
for Christmas. A White Christmas.

Everything had changed because of the snow.  

I smiled back at Mulder.  

I decided to wake him up. It was time to start our new life.


The End

Happy Holidays, fellow Shippers!
written by MoJoBer@aol.com

Get MoJo'ed at: http://members.aol.com/mojober/index.html