Work Text:
4:37PM, December 23rd, 1999. Barton County, Idaho
“Hey Scully, how many snow plow drivers up here do you think are just really smart Sasquatches in flannel?”
Mulder smirked at her across the console, earning him an unserious eye roll and a smile that warmed him despite the struggling of their rental car heater. They’d wrapped a regrettably mundane case in the beautiful but remote Kaniksu National Forest earlier today, and were attempting to drive back to Spokane before the blizzard they’d seen predicted earlier in the week.
Scully took the bait, eyes bright from the recesses of her hooded parka, “Shave one for the driver’s license photo and you'd hardly tell the difference. If they existed.”
The jab was tempered by a twitch of her lips and a tilt of her eyebrows that he’d have called wry before, but was laced with an undertone of mirth that he’d been oh-so-happily wringing out of her for the last eight months. His baseball lesson in April ended with her pressed up against the backstop with her legs wrapped around his waist and the frantic exploration of hands and mouths, tearing down their carefully built walls of denial and restraint. He was the luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived and he knew it with every lingering glance and surreptitious touch. He knew what it was to wake up with his nose pressed into her hair, her puffing soft breaths into his chest, body bare and spent from glorious evenings spent discovering each other. Two mugs in the sink. Her falling asleep in his lap on her couch. Leaving work in two cars only for one of them to inevitably suggest pizza and a movie. Parting in the morning to arrive separately, barely concealing their grins. It was enough to make him weep, which he had, which they both had, when they finally admitted to each other what they’d wanted for so long.
They’d agreed that at work and in public the status quo must be maintained, for now. The last week had been a struggle, working with agents from the National Forest Service and separated into mens’ and womens’ cabins for the duration of the investigation, not even left alone for more than a moment. The kicker was that their flight was due to arrive after midnight, and early the next morning she was due to drive to the Scully matriarch family home for Christmas eve. They’d decided to part ways with her at the airport so she could rest before heading out. She’d passed along her mother’s invitation, as she had for years, but he declined, as he had for years. He just didn’t think he could keep up the charade around her family, and he hadn’t wanted to invite the inevitable confrontation with her brother if he slipped. So, he'd call his mother, eat Chinese with the Gunmen, and count the hours until she returned and he could enjoy the only gift he'd ever want for the rest of his life.
“Yeah well looks like someone needs to tell Bigfoot to get a move on, I can barely see the side of the road,” he muttered as he squinted through the flurries.
Scully wiped her side of the windshield with a gloved hand, “I thought the storm wasn't supposed to hit until tonight, how can it be this bad already?”
By the looks of the road, the predictions were about 6 hours and a foot of snow off in the wrong direction. At this rate they’d be lucky if their flight wasn’t cancelled entirely. He glanced over sympathetically but looked back to the road when he saw her squinting through the windshield at something ahead of them. “Is that a police car up ahead?”
He caught the flashing lights, too, and slowed. “Seems to be. Maybe an accident?”
He pulled to a stop in front of the Jeep and rolled down his window, badge in hand, as the officer strode over. The wind howled into the open window, sending stinging flurries into their faces. “What seems to be the problem, officer?”
All he could see was a dark blue bundle with a pair of eyes peering between a thick scarf and a fur-lined hood. “Road’s closed, conditions are getting too bad too quickly for this pass to be safe. Sorry, but you folks are going to have to turn around,” she said over the wind.
Mulder unfolded his badge and lifted it into her line of sight, “We’re FBI, we need to get back to Spokane.” He glanced over at Scully, who flashed her own badge from the passenger seat.
“The Bureau? You all the ones they called up to help the Forest Service up in Kaniksu? That was an odd one, I’m sure they appreciated the help.” She shrugged as sympathetically as she could under all the layers. “Be that as it may, none of the roads in that direction are going to be passable until at least morning, maybe later. The weather service underestimated the hell out of this one. Do you all have any place close by to stay?”
Mulder locked eyes with Scully and his shoulders sagged. She didn’t react but leaned over and said, “No, actually, we’d appreciate any suggestions.”
The officer nodded, “My cousin runs a campground, he’ll have some open cabins this time of year. It’s called the Round Lake Resorts, back the way you came about five miles. I’ll let him know you’re coming, he should be able to put you up.”
Mulder looked between Scully and the officer, looking for any other option other than giving up before conceding with thanks, rolling up the window, and turning the car around. The idea of her missing yet another holiday with her family hit him in the gut and he scrambled. “Maybe we can try the back roads and -”
Her blue eyes narrowed into incredulity. “Mulder. I don’t feel like spending the night freezing to death on a logging road. It’s fine, let’s just get out of here.” Her face was placid, devoid of any trace of disappointment, and to his surprise she let her hand rest on his thigh.
“I’m sorry, Scully. When we get there we can call the airline, hopefully we can get out tomorrow.”
She squeezed his knee and he felt his heart rate slow and some tension release from his shoulders. She was looking out the window, keeping an eye out for the campground sign, but he swore he saw a trace of a smile on her rosebud lips. He thought with a twinge of guilt for his selfishness that if nothing else he gets an evening with her before they part ways for the holiday.
They found the campground, a well-spaced cluster of faux-rustic cabins set in a clearing backing up to thick woods, surrounding a slightly larger main building. They parked at the main building and were blown into the door of a reception area with the usual tourist brochures but decidedly upscale log cabin decor, a far cry from the taxidermied jackalopes and mediocre wolf paintings he'd expected.
“Hello?” called Scully as she pushed her hood back, and a blonde man who could have walked out of a Brawny paper towel ad popped his head out from the back room behind the counter.
“Hello! Are you the two FBI agents Brenda called about?” He walked out carrying a plastic-wrapped gift basket, through which Mulder could see chocolates, oranges, and…was that a bottle of champagne?
The man set the basket on the counter and extended his hand, “Steve Batteiger, nice to meet you.” They introduced themselves and he shook Mulder and Scully’s hand in turn. “Brenda told me you all were stuck up here, needed some place to ride out the storm?”
Another man, shorter and less rugged but with a warm smile and, blessedly, a set of keys in his hand walked out behind Steve and put an arm around his waist. Steve clapped him on the chest and said “This is my partner, Emmett, we run the place. Happy to help you guys out, these storms can really sneak up on you up here.”
Scully stepped in and said, “We appreciate it, thank you.” She reached for her wallet but Emmett frantically waved it away. Scully looked confused and glanced over to Mulder, equally confused.
Emmett crossed his tattooed arms and shook his head, “We won’t hear of payment. You all were up here helping the forest service find those missing rangers earlier this week, weren’t you?”
“Yeah?” Mulder questioned.
Emmett beamed back at him, “My brother’s one of the rangers. Robert Hawkins - you two got him out of that cave system. Saved his life. Your money’s no good here.”
Scully responded firmly but warmly, “That's very kind of you to offer, but FBI ethics policy prohibits agents from accepting gifts from family of victims, it wouldn’t be right for us to -”
Steve shook his head and chuckled, “Ma’am, you can hand me that credit card to make yourself feel better but I'm not going to run it.” He cocked his head to the window where snow was now blowing sideways. “You can take the cabin and our gratitude or sleep in the car, because by the looks of it you all don't have much other choice at this point.”
He and Scully both started to protest but looked at each other and shut their mouths when they simultaneously realized that Steve was right. Mulder stepped forward and took the keys from Emmett’s outstretched hand, “I guess that’s us told, then.”
“Guess it is!” Emmett chimed. “Yours is number five, off to the left. Linens are all fresh, no TV, but all the cabins have generators in case the power goes out, a stereo, full kitchen, full bath, separate bedroom. Just one, though.” He smirked at them, “Is that going to be a problem?”
He bit back a laugh when Scully colored just the slightest shade of pink and coughed, “No, we’ll be fine, thank you.”
“One more thing,” said Steve. Mulder grunted as Steve shoved the gift basket into his midsection across the counter.
“The cabin’s available because some wealthy couple from San Jose prepaid the reservation, paid us to stock it with groceries, husband even had this delivered - then cancelled at the last minute. So it’s all yours if you feel like being…” Steve paused to pluck the card off of the gift basket, “...Maude and Roger Phillabaum for the day.”
There were no words to describe how bizarre this situation had become, all he could do was pick up the basket and goggle at Scully, shaking his head. “What do you say, Maude ?”
He saw the wheels turning in her head, debating again trying to protest the ethics issue but decide against it. She shrugged, “Let's go, Roger. ”
Steve clapped his arm around Emmett’s shoulder and they both waved them out the door back into the snow. The sun was rapidly setting, and they could barely see the cabin for the driving snow and wind which buffeted them back to the car to grab their bags and then through the door of the waiting cabin.
What awaited them was far beyond their meager expectations from years of roadside motels. The cozy main room featured overstuffed furniture in front of a natural stone fireplace, warm lighting, built-in shelves with books and a few board games. To the side was an open kitchen nicer than his - maybe even nicer than Scully’s - all giving more a sense of ritzy ski lodge than roadside campground. He dumped the gift basket on the kitchen counter, slung his bag on the ground, and noticed Scully turning in a circle taking in the cabin, lips slightly agape.
“I don’t think this is your average hunting lodge, Mulder,” she said with a touch of awe, shucking her parka off and onto the kitchen island. Her cheeks were red from the cold and flakes clung to her hair, rapidly melting into drops that glittered in the warm light, and his arms suddenly itched to envelop her.
He shed his own coat and bent to unlace his snow-crusted boots. “I think the only thing the clientele here hunt are snow bunnies, Scully.”
By the time he stood up she’d kicked off her own shoes and stood directly in front of him, almost between his feet. God, she was beautiful. Her blue eyes sparkled up at him and her lips curled into the sly smile he’d come to know so well, the one that betrayed the whirring of her inescapable mind. She twined her delicate hands behind his neck at the same time he clutched her hips in his hands and pulled her flush to him. She fit like a key in the hollow of his chest and pushed up to kiss him for the first time in days, soft as a sunrise. He couldn’’t believe he’d lasted six years without this when just the last week was torture.
His eyes fluttered open and he kneaded her hips with his thumbs. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she breathed, and scratched the back of his neck gently, sending shivers down his arms. “We seem to be stuck here despite our valiant efforts to return. How will we explain it to Skinner?”
He dipped down to nuzzle her neck, eliciting a sigh and a hum of appreciation. “He can look at the Weather Channel and draw his own conclusions,” he said. He pulled back to drink her in, sliding his hands to clasp around her waist, then remembered. “Do you want to call your mom and tell her you’re delayed? I’m sorry you might miss Christmas eve with your family, I know you were looking forward to it.”
Scully let her hands slide down his chest to the hem of his sweater and her cool fingers brushed the skin just above his waistband. He inhaled sharply, not from the cold but from her deft, practiced hands undoing his self control with just a few swipes through the patch of coarse hair that ran from his navel to his now-twitching cock. She’d turned him into a teenager again. She kissed the pulse point of his neck and murmured, “Later. I have more important things on my mind.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that we’re alone with nowhere else to be and no work to do for the first time in way too long. Would you care to check out the sleeping arrangements?” she asked with a lilt in her voice and mischief in her eyes.
His face split into a smile and any worries he had about her disappointment fell away. He scooped her up in his arms, earning him a squeal of surprise turned delight as he carried her, laughing, toward the open bedroom door. He’d never expected, had no idea, how playful she could be and it was an immense privilege to be able to see that side of her, to see all sides of her, each more beautiful than the last. Her laugh was a treasure made more valuable by the fact that he’d caused it, earned it, that she felt him worthy to share her joy. He set her down gently on an expansive king bed loaded with thick quilts and switched on the lamp on the bedside table to warm the gloomy grey light from the windows. He crawled over her, slotting a knee between her thighs and bracketing her head with his arms. Already half-hard, she pushed up against him, grinning and his lips found her neck.
“I missed you so goddamn much,” he murmured into the elegant curve of her throat as he dropped kisses from the angle of her jaw to her collarbone. “I was one night away from sneaking out and throwing rocks at your window.”
She stretched to give him better access and ran her palms under his shirt, up his chest and around his shoulders, leaving sparks on his skin in their wake. “I missed you too,” she sighed into his shoulder, sending a shudder through him straight to his groin.
He groaned and pressed into her, craving her skin, her warmth, her smell, to be surrounded by only her. She turned her head back to kiss him, capturing his lower lip in hers and sucking before opening to him. They swam in each other until they were both breathless and panting, and he barely noticed that she’d rucked his shirt up to his underarms. He lifted himself up to let her pull it over his head, then sat back, straddling her thigh. She raked her eyes over his body like she was claiming her territory, what once would have made him self-conscious now aroused him beyond belief to see just how much Dana Katherine Fucking Scully wanted him. His cock strained against his jeans almost to the point of pain, not helped by the way she pressed herself against his thigh and squirmed. It took every ounce of restraint to not tear her clothes off, drop his zipper and push into her right then and there, but it had been too long not to give her every ounce of attention she deserved.
She twitched under his hands when he splayed them over the soft skin of her belly and sucked in air as he traced the pads of his fingers up, over her ribs under her shirt to brush the underside of her breasts. His thumbs teased her nipples through the thin blue fabric of her bra, earning him a hiss and moan before he eased her shirt up and off over her head. He dipped low to taste the creamy expanse of her skin, nipping at her collarbone as he massaged her breasts.
“Mmm, Mulder…you feel so good,” she murmured into his hairline as she arched up into him and scratched gently down his back.
He quickly undid the front clasp of her bra and her perfect breast fell into his hand. Fucking hell, she was perfection in every way, and he would take that as gospel until his dying day. He felt liquid, hot pulses running straight to his core, only amplified by her cry when he sucked one hard nipple into his mouth and gently squeezed the other. She ground herself onto his thigh, chasing the pressure and friction he knew she craved, her head thrown back against the pillows. One of her hands slipped down and cupped him through his jeans, pressing up against his swollen head with her palm, and he moaned around her nipple, sparks dancing in front of his eyes as he thrust forward against her hand. Her lack of restraint, her passion, her openness, her honesty as a lover pulled feelings and urges from him he hadn't known he was capable of. As in their partnership, as in their friendship, they gave what the other needed without hesitation, combined into more than themselves.
He would give her what he needed - she groaned when he moved his leg away but inhaled sharply when he started kissing his way down between her breasts, around her navel, stopping only at her waistband. He sat back on his knees, frustratingly out of reach of her hands now, and guided the zipper of her pants open before shimmying them down her hips and off, leaving her bare in front of him. It was his turn to marvel at her body - strawberry curls at the apex of her legs, strong calves, faint scars of their tumultuous life lived together, swell of her hips and dip of her waist. She was Titian’s Venus brought to life from seafoam, disguised in suits and sensible heels but completely unable to erase the radiance that poured from the tips of her fingers, the ends of her hair. He bent down, intent on his goal, but was stopped by the press of her small foot against his chest.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she challenged, raising her eyebrows at him.
He took her slender ankle in his hands and kissed the hollow of her Achilles tendon. “That would require me to stop what I’m doing,” he said as he kissed up her calf, “And I don’t think you want that.”
She kicked her leg out of his hand and crossed it over her other leg as she moved back to prop herself up on the pillows, arms out like a queen surveying her court of one. “I think I do,” she said, and motioned with her eyes at his pants. He laughed and threw up his hands, stepping back off the bed to stand while he undid his belt. Their eyes locked and he met her wolfish gaze with his own, not breaking eye contact while he undid his fly and let his jeans and boxer briefs drop to the floor. His cock bobbed up against his belly, and when she bit her lip and couldn’t help but glance down he took himself in his hand and gave a few slow, tortuous strokes for her which did more to amplify his need than relieve it.
Her eyes widened and she looked back up at him, cheeks coloring, “Much better.”
He chuffed again, “I’m glad you approve,” then crawled forward toward her in the bed to kneel in front of her. She allowed him to uncross her legs and resume his journey kissing up her leg. He arrived at the back of her knee, swirled his tongue in the hollow there and was rewarded with a fit of gasping laughter. He moved up her inner thigh, nibbling and sucking at her skin as he drew closer to her core. Finally he reached the crux of her thighs and buried his nose in her short red curls, teasing her folds before probing gently with lips and tongue. The moment when she sighed and sank into the pillows as he began to lick and kiss her already-glistening cunt was both transcendent and, to his immense fortune, blessedly familiar now.
He was a quick study in the language of Dana Scully’s pleasure, knew how to circle around her clit at first, brushing closer and closer until she fisted her hand in his hair. He lapped her in long, slow strokes, eliciting needy moans and ragged breaths. Her legs tensed and twitched, fighting the conflicting urges to both thrust into his face and to keep his tongue exactly where it was. He could die a happy man exactly like this, worshipping her body with his mouth and hands, drowning in the sweet, salty taste that was her, sending her to new heights of pleasure with every movement. He didn’t believe in God, but he was as sure of her divinity as he was that the sky was blue, and he would pray to her altar as often and with as much devotion as she would allow. His cock strained against the mattress as he lay prone below her while he ate her, and he couldn’t resist grinding into it to relieve the urgency, moaning into her.
At this she cried out, “Mulder- please, I need-” and thrust up into him, tugging on his hair. He pressed one hand just under her navel to steady her and with the other pressed two fingers into her and up against her unbelievably slick walls, finding the soft spot that she loved by touch memory. He closed his mouth around the swollen center of her pleasure and sucked gently, and with a cry of his name she fell over the edge into ecstasy. Her legs twitched and her hips bucked into him as she gasped obscenities and clutched at the headboard with her free hand. As she spasmed around his fingers and writhed against his lips he backed off just enough to avoid overstimulating her, riding her orgasm out with her to prolong this as much as he could.
When her hips started to slow and her cries turned into satisfied purrs he rose up to cover her with his body, slotting himself between her legs with his erection rubbing tantalizingly against her. He brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her forehead gently. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, with pupils blown dark with desire. She pushed herself up to kiss him roughly, exploring her own taste with her tongue, and reached down to wrap her hand around him. She stroked him slowly, caressing him with her skilled hands, and he groaned into her mouth, it was so much. His head dropped to her shoulder and she kissed his neck as she guided him toward her.
“I need to feel you,” she whispered into his ear as he entered her, driving with aching slowness into her warm depths. He shuddered as he filled her to the hilt, like she was made for him, like coming home. They held there, his forehead pressed to her temple, barely breathing, before he started to move. The hot springs coiled at the base of his spine wound tighter as he ground into her, clutching at her hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, explored his back with her hands while he nipped at her mouth, her neck, her collarbones.
His thrusts were punctuated with cries of her name. “Scully, fuck - I can’t…can’t believe how good you feel. Christ, I love you so much,” he stammered out as he gripped her hips tighter to shift them the way he knew she needed. He snapped his hips, chasing the tension building deep within. There was only her body, her warmth, surrounding him and accepting him and wanting him in ways he’d never been. Nothing existed outside the two of them, nothing would ever be more to him than this, than her. It took every ounce of restraint he had to not fuck her with wild abandon, to last for her, he was already so close he could taste it.Not without her, though, not without sending her again over the precipice.
She cried out and rose up to meet him with increasing fervor, urging him on with her heels in the small of his back. “Oh my God - “ she moaned, and quickened her pace. She snaked her hand between them and found her clit, circling around it with her finger, and nothing was so primally sexy as Scully getting herself off around his dick. “More,” she cried as her eyes fluttered closed and her head fell back, “ Please, Mulder . ” Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him deeper than he'd thought possible. She wrenched her eyes open and looked him dead in the eye, “Let go…let go for me.”
At that his control broke and he gripped the headboard with one hand and her hips with the other for more leverage as he lost himself in her, the fire of tension in his belly spreading into his chest and limbs. The bucking of her hips grew more frantic, her cries more ragged, matching his as he pumped into her. The world narrowed to nothing more than their ecstatic bodies enmeshed as deeply as their souls. The two of them were no longer individuals but a singularity, the universe compressed into a single point of light. Suddenly she tensed and came like a thunderclap, her hands clawing at his back and her walls spasming around him. This was all it took, and he shouted her name as he spilled inside her, waves of pleasure shaking him to his core. His legs trembled through the last few frantic thrusts before he slowed, spent, and collapsed on top of her.
They could do nothing but pant for a few minutes with sweaty limbs tangled and his head resting on her shoulder. He registered that she was pressing her lips to his forehead and carding her fingers through his hair, so he moved to roll away and off of her but she tightened her arm around him. “No, stay,” she breathed.
“I’m too heavy, I don’t want to crush you,” he mumbled into her shoulder.
“No you’re not, this is perfect. You’re perfect.”
He kissed her and shot her a lopsided grin as he remained in her grasp but did shift some of his weight to the side, pulling her over with him. He rested one hand on her bare hip and squeezed before trailing his fingers up to rest on her waist. She had a lot of nerve to call him perfect when she was the embodiment of the word.
Scully buried her face in his chest and sighed, “I should call my mom and let her know we’re delayed. But…” she began, and started rubbing his bare chest, “...I’d be lying if I said I was upset with the situation.”
He swiped a strand of hair stuck to her misted forehead behind her ear. “Really?”
She nodded. “I know we decided to go home separately, but that doesn’t mean I had to like it. If being late for the festivities is the price to pay for being alone with you, then let it snow.”
His chest tightened, and while no one, least of all Scully, would ever have said that he was at a loss for words, he found he couldn’t speak, just pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair. He could love her every day for the rest of his life and it would never, ever be enough.
At that inopportune moment his stomach growled, and he chuckled. “Want to see what kind of groceries Roger and Maude paid for?”
“I’m starving. I’ll call mom and be out.”
He kissed her again and rolled out of bed, swiping his boxer briefs off the floor and quickly tugging them on. He lingered just long enough to watch the heart shape of her backside as she rolled over onto her stomach to rifle through her clothes on the floor for her cell phone.
He discovered a selection of cold cuts, cheese, fruit, and vegetables in the refrigerator along with some other basic staples. In the cabinets he found a loaf of sourdough bread, cereal, coffee, pasta, and some baking supplies. The sound of Scully talking to her mother filtered from the other room while he took stock of the gift basket. Seems like Roger had pretty good taste - he was greeted with a selection of exotic jams, oranges, chocolate truffles, pears, and a bottle of actual French champagne, which he popped in the fridge for later. He grabbed their suitcases and quietly dropped them in the bedroom just as Scully hung up. She'd stolen the beige sweater she'd taken off of him earlier, which hung halfway down her thighs and over her hands, and was staring out the window at the falling snow in the last of the light, ethereally beautiful.
He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his head atop hers. “Your mom take it ok?”
“Yeah, she understands, she's glad we’re safe. She says hi.” She leaned back into him, “I think she's starting to suspect something about us.”
Mulder contemplated for a minute and swayed back and forth with her in his arms. He stared out the window in thought, images of him embracing Maggie at a Scully family function and begrudgingly shaking hands with Bill while Scully looked on playing through his mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
She turned in his arms to face him. “So, what do our accidental benefactors have on the menu?”
“They have pretty good taste, actually. Think we can pair champagne with turkey sandwiches?”
She raised an eyebrow in approval, “Champagne? Merry Christmas to us.”
He kissed her quickly and let go, “Come on, G-woman, let’s eat.”
He pulled his jeans and undershirt back on while she pulled a pair of leggings out of her bag to slip on under his sweater. His sweater, he thought, and again couldn’t stifle the smile. He set to work spreading fig jam onto two slices of sourdough and layering on turkey, prosciutto, slices of brie, and arugula - a combination he’d recalled from his mother’s garden parties with nostalgia. He wondered if his own mother had any suspicions about him and Scully, but he doubted it.
Scully walked in, turned on the gas fireplace, and sat on the couch watching him prepare their meal with obvious pleasure. In eight months they’d barely gone on a real date, dinners out on the road notwithstanding, sticking to takeout and nights in rather than the risk of being seen by someone from work, or worse, by someone they didn’t know who would use their relationship against them. He didn’t mind - it made it just that much easier to get each other out of their clothes - but sometimes he wasn’t sure why they bothered anymore. They’d been each other’s greatest weakness from the moment they met, lovers or not. The potential professional repercussions were still enough to keep their relationship a secret, but moments like this he could almost see a future with a shared address, her medical texts mixed in with his cryptozoology, and disagreements about sorting laundry. After everything they’d already done, how much more pissed off could Skinner be?
He dropped two plates with sandwiches, chips and fruit and the box of truffles on the coffee table and sat down next to her, “Not too shabby, eh?”
She took a bite and nodded in approval, “Mulder, this is delicious. Have you been holding out on me?”
He preened,“I’m a man of hidden depths, Scully.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes before he sat back and peeled an orange, “So, what is it that normal people do when they get snowed in? Last time it happened to us there were alien ice parasites involved.”
She swallowed. “First of all, we never documented anything to suggest they were extraterrestrial in origin, they could just as easily have been a previously extinct species frozen in the ice, and we’ll never know. Second…we’re not exactly normal people, Mulder.”
He rolled his eyes at her, a novelty. “Fine, fine. The question still stands.”
“Well if the stories of occasional local increases in birth rates after significant storms are to be believed, I think a fair number of them do the same thing we just did,” she deadpanned.
“You know I’m always up for a repeat performance,” he teased with a waggle of his eyebrows.
She plucked a truffle from the box and bit it seductively. “Maybe after I kick your ass at Scrabble.”
He jumped up to grab the box from the nearby shelves, “Ohhh, you’re on.”
And she did kick his ass, up until he turned her ‘otic’ into ‘quixotic’ on a triple word and double letter score and swept the rest of the game, resulting in a threat to shoot him again and a challenge for a rematch. By this point they’d popped the champagne and were each a glass deep. She glowed in the firelight as she shuffled the letters around, and he stared at her trying to sear the image of her like this, warm and relaxed and happy, into his mind forever. After everything they've been through, he thought she deserved it. Maybe…maybe he did, too.
She solidly trounced him the second time around as they worked through the rest of the bottle, only once having to argue about Mulder’s attempted use of the word ‘embiggen’. After calculating her winning score she downed the last of her champagne and pumped her hands in the air while he hung his head for emphasis but grinned like a madman.
He took advantage of her distraction to pull her into his lap and kiss her deeply. She responded by crawling the rest of the way toward him, straddling his hips, and exploring his mouth with her tongue. Soon their clothes littered the floor again and she tilted her forehead against his and slid down onto him, inch by inch, enveloping him in her delicious warmth, then started to move. She ground against his pelvic bone and undulated her hips around him, and he lost himself in her. Backlit by the fire, her hair glowed around her face like a halo as she let her head fall back, lost in her growing pleasure. She gasped when he dipped down to take a rosy nipple in his mouth and swirl his tongue around it, lightly squeezing the other with his finger and thumb. Her pace picked up and he pushed up into her to meet her hips with each thrust, his own control rapidly falling away as she wrung surges of electric tension from him. She braced herself on his shoulders for more leverage as he brought a hand between them to seek out the hard center of her pleasure with his fingers. When he found it, she cried out and her thighs twitched and shuddered against his, she was so close.
He breathed into her ear, “Scully, honey…do you think you can come for me?”
That was all it took and she was coming apart in his arms, crashing into him erratically as she gasped and moaned his name into his neck. He gripped her hip with his free hand and came with a groan as she clung to him through the aftershocks. After a few ragged thrusts they sank, boneless, into each other and made no effort to separate as he softened inside of her. Her arms were around his neck as she breathed into his shoulder, and he wrapped his around her to hold her to him and stroke her hair.
After a few minutes he felt her shiver against him, so he slipped out of her and shifted with her in his arms, to lay back with her sprawled on his chest. There was a quilt laid across the back of the couch, so he pulled it over them and tucked it around her, savoring her soft weight and warmth atop him.
He picked up stroking her hair again and kissed her temple. “Mm, you were right. This is perfect.”
She nodded and sighed into his chest. “Told you I'd kick your ass, the first time was a fluke.”
“Could always go for a tiebreaker.”
“That would require moving. Let's just leave it at a draw,” she mumbled.
He let his head fall against the armrest and stared up at the beams on the ceiling. After a few minutes, “Hey Scully, I know this is a dangerous prospect, but I've been thinking.”
She picked her head up to look at him, “About what?”
He kept looking at the ceiling. “Does it…bother you, that we’re not normal people?”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “Normal people don't have to pretend to be just work partners. Normal people can…go on dates, rent cute little ski cottages for the weekend…visit each other’s families on holidays without worrying about being targeted at work.” He looked down to meet her clear blue gaze. “You deserve more of this,” he gestured around at their surroundings, “and I worry that what I can give isn't what you deserve.”
She stared hard at him, chin resting on his sternum. To his galled surprise she said, “You and Bill have more in common than you think, you know.” When he couldn't come up with a response she continued, “You both worry more about what you think I need than what I've told you I actually want. Mulder, I know what I want and what I want is you. Exactly as you are, exactly as we are. You give me so much more than you know, and someday I'll find a way to make you see that.”
He found he couldn't speak around the lump on his throat so he gazed down at her and stroked her back until he was able to croak out, “I just don't want you to think I'm ashamed of this. Of how much I love you. I'm just…so afraid you’ll be taken away from me.”
He saw the tears spring to her eyes before she said. “I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Mulder. You’re mine. I'm yours. Even if they kick us both out of the FBI tomorrow, you're the only partner I'll ever want.” She rested her cheek right over his heart, which was pounding a relentless beat. “But…I don't think the world will end if we stop hiding from it. When we’re ready.”
He tightened his arms around his unimaginably brave, kind, understanding, enigmatic Scully. He really was the luckiest son-of-a-bitch who ever lived, and he would spend everyday making her feel the same if it was the last thing he did. Her breathing had started to slow and her limbs relaxed.
He nudged her shoulder, “Hey Scully?”
“Mm?”
“Bill isn’t a Yankees fan too, is he? Might be a place for me to start.”
“Padres,” she responded sleepily.
He kissed the top of her head, “I can work with that. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”
He sat up with her and took her hand to lead her back to the bedroom. They brushed their teeth, shoulder to shoulder, before crawling into the rumpled bed together. She rolled away from him with her head cushioned by his arm and his other slung around her waist, legs intertwined and his nose brushing the nape of her neck.
She was fading fast, but before she drifted off she took his hand at her waist in hers and kissed his palm. “Love you, Mulder…”
He kissed the back of her neck, “Love you too, Scully.”
—-------
He woke the next morning to the ringing of the phone on the bedside table. Scully stirred and rolled over toward him when he reached around to answer it. “Hello?”
Steve’s obscenely chipper voice responded “Good morning! Just wanted to let you know, Brenda called, and the roads opened up about a half an hour ago. Plows must have been going all night. Hope you two had a good night!”
He sat up in bed, “Uh, yeah. Very comfortable, we can’t thank you enough for putting us up.”
“Not a problem! Take your time, no rush to check out.”
He thanked Steve again and hung up, then shook Scully’s shoulder gently. “Hey, the roads are open. We should get going.”
She opened one bleary eye at him, “Do we have to? I’m warm.”
He prodded her gently, “Come on, if we get a move on we could have you back before the first course.”
She assented, and they both rose and started to get ready. A pleasant but disappointingly non-erotic shower and some to-go toast later and they walked out to crystal blue skies behind the piney mountains and a world that glittered with fresh snow. He’ll be damned, one of the owners had even swept the snow off their car. Mulder shook his head and loaded their bags into the trunk. Scully buckled in but he paused before starting the car.
She looked over at him questioningly, “What is it, Mulder?”
He turned the car on but unbuckled his seat belt. “Just want to do one thing, just take a sec.” He got out and jogged toward the main office while she stared after him, confused.”
When he returned a minute later and put the car into gear she asked, “What did you need to do?”
“Nothing, Scully, just wanted to thank Steve and Emmett. Ready?”
“Yeah. I think I’m going to miss this place, though,” she sighed.
He grinned and thumbed the business card from the front office in his pocket, already planning how he would get her out here for a few more days next year.