From: nsimpson@gpu1.srv.ualberta.ca (Nicola Simpson)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW SHORT-"Precipitation"
Date: 11 Nov 1995 16:43:37 GMT


Disclaimer!  Disclaimer!  Disclaimer!
All characters property of Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions and
Fox Television.  I'z jus' playing wid dem...
This story consists of romance and some, well, sex.  Mild sex 
nonetheless, but don't say I didn't warn you.  I started off as 
just romance, but I was just dying to use the term "tender assault"...  
You know... 
In the interests of the story, I have named the dog Clyde.  I
personally think Yappi is better, but there's just no way I could
see that, if she kept the dog, she would name it Yappi. 
Everything else, copyright to me, 1995.
All comments to me at nsimpson@gpu.srv.ualberta.ca


Precipitation
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
by Nicola Simpson


     Something was licking her feet.  Dana shifted in her warm
cocoon of down patchwork quilts and tried unsuccessfully to nudge
the tongue away.  

     She sighed, still half-asleep.  "Mulder..."  Wait a minute,
Mulder didn't have such a cold tongue, did he?  She bolted awake
to discover a lump under the covers below her knees.  She lifted
the quilt and stuck her head in the small cave to discover Clyde
eagerly lapping up from salt from her ankles.

     Scully reached in and plucked the Pomeranian out from the
cozy little nook by her heels and ungainly dropped him on the
floor.  He yelped as his feet hit the cold floor, but Scully
wasn't listening.  She flopped back down on the bed and burrowed
under the covers, shivering from exposure to the chill air. 
Until she smelled coffee.  She reluctantly eased her legs onto
the floor, wincing as sharp icy needles shot through her toes.
She grabbed a robe and some slippers and padded softly out into
the main room of the cabin.

     "Morning, Scully."  

     "Mulder, you made coffee."  It was more an incredulous
statement than a question.

     "Don't worry, it won't kill you."  He grinned as he
demonstrated, lifting a blue enamel mug to his curving mouth.  He
sipped and sighed in satisfaction before putting the cup on the
table and moving towards the fireplace.  Dana poured herself some
coffee and leaned against the counter to watch him build a fire. 
She was so busy watching the way his jeans stretched over his
body when he kneeled down to light the long match, that she
didn't notice the hot liquid scald her tongue and stream down her
throat in further agony.

     "Unhhunhh!"  She slammed the cup down on the counter, the
coffee sloshing over the edge, and ran to the door.  She yanked
it open and jumped off the porch to scoop up a handful of snow,
which was gratefully stuffed into her burning mouth.

     Mulder looked only mildly worried, but mostly amused as he
sat back on his heels, the fire starting to catch before him. 
"Burn yourself?"

     Scully plodded back into the cabin, her slippers now cold
and wet.  "Uh huh," she nodded, her mouth still of melting snow. 

     Mulder stood up and crossed over to her.  "Let me see," he
demanded, cradling her chin in his lean hands.  Dana turned
crimson, and swallowed the snow noisily, her eyes dropping to his
plaid flannel-covered chest. *Big mistake,* she thought, *looking
at his body was just as bad.* Her pale blue eyes slid up his
chest and neck to meet his questioning hazel ones.  She frowned
at him and stuck out her tongue.

     He looked at it carefully, clinically, and she could feel
her blush abate, being slowly replaced by warmth from the now
brightly crackling fire a few feet away.  When he reached up and
ran his index finger lightly along her upper lip, she froze in
shock, his gentle touch numbing the throbbing pain in her mouth. 
He didn't look at her, and turned away, his hands dropping to his
side.

     "You'll be fine.  Put on some lip balm, it'll help."

     She stood there silently, until Mulder had disappeared into
the other bedroom.  She became aware of Clyde yapping around her
heels and exhaled slowly.  She walked into the kitchen, the small
dog running around her feet, to get him some breakfast.  Her
appetite was as numb as her lips.  After plunking a dish down on
the linoleum for Clyde, she sat down on a large oak chair and
wrapped her fingers around a mug.  Sticking her tongue out
experimentally, she found the coffee now a tolerable temperature,
and sipped cautiously.  

     She sat there in silence and realized that she must have
been nuts to have suggested this inane trip.  Why did she feel so
responsible for Mulder's happiness?  She didn't have to invite
him along on her vacation.  She didn't have to be so pleased when
he agreed to come to her aunt's cabin in the Adirondacks.  It
wasn't like they *needed* to spend more time together.  It wasn't
like they even *wanted* to spend more time together.  Oh, who was
she kidding?  She wanted to spend time with Mulder.  Away from
the office, relaxing, warm, happy...  They just never seemed to
get a break these days.

     The fire started to pop and hiss as the flames licked
through some wet wood.  She stood up and started towards the
bathroom to take a shower.  She began feeling stupid and
miserable as she stripped off her red union suit, and
commiserated with the sighing emanating from the fireplace. *This
was a mistake,* she admitted to herself, *I never should have
asked him.* But at least she could try to make an effort, which
seemed to be more than he was willing to do.

     Mulder sat on the bed in the guest bedroom, a thick navy
wool sweater half on, half off. *I never should have come,* his
mind raced. *This is just too difficult.* He knew that she was
planning this winter trip, and he had asked Skinner for the same
vacation time.  He planned to just relax in his apartment, but
part of him secretly hoped that she would invite him to come
along with her to the mountains.  When she finally asked, he let
out a silent whoop of relief, and laconically said yes.  He never
quite figured out whether she asked him out of pity, or did she
want him with her?  He told himself that it didn't matter, he was
just happy that they were together, relaxing away from the
office.  Unfortunately, they had been there two days, and both of
them were rigidly aching from tension.  They sat quietly during
the day, reading in front of the fire, going out for the
occasional walk, making soup.  At night, they listened to each
other getting ready for bed, and the shifting sighs of the beds
as they tossed and turned, listening to each other breathe softly
through the thin cabin walls.        
     
     It was driving Mulder up the proverbial wall.  He realized a
long time ago just how much his petite flame-haired partner meant
to him.  It was easier to swallow his feelings surrounded by
filing cabinets and black bloated bodies, but here, with the
frost streaking across the windows and the fire merrily burning,
it was harder.  He didn't realize how hard it would be to listen
to her brush her teeth, and murmur to Clyde late at night. 
Clyde, who slept in her bed with her.  Mulder felt a slight
twinge of jealousy towards the dog, whose great contribution to
the outdoors so far was demanding that he and Dana take him
outside themselves.  Oh no, they couldn't just let him out the
door, Clyde wanted them to cater to his every whim and need. 
Mulder was really starting to hate that dog.

     He thrust his head through the neck of the sweater and
yanked on the sleeves.  Resigned, he grabbed the book he was
currently reading and trudged towards the living room.  Scully
was by the front door, putting on her boots.  At least he thought
it was Scully-under the goretex jacket and pants and the polar
fleece hat and neckwarmer.  Muffled sounds emanated from the pile
of arctic gear as she tugged on the laces of her boots.  She
looked up at him briefly, then reached over to grab his boots,
drying by the fire.  They clattered to the floor by his feet as
she tossed them.
     
     "Excuse me?"  He raised his right eyebrow effortlessly.

     She blew a stray strand of auburn hair out of her left eye
and squinted at him.  "I've had enough.  We are going to try to
have a good time this week, okay?  I didn't come out here to sit
quietly and read, I can do that at home."  She saw his face
unexplicably fall, and amended quickly, "Not that I don't usually
have a good time with you, Mulder, but you have to admit that the
last couple of days have not exactly been stimulating."
     
     Mulder reached down to help her up from the floor.  He
pondered something, then reached for his coat and boots.  Scully
beamed triumphantly and went out the door.  He watched her
disappear around the back of the cabin through the front window,
and finished tugging on a toque.

     When he found her a few minutes later, she was digging in
the shed around the back of the house.  Grunting and pawing
through what looked like fifty years of junk, she finally found
what she was looking for, and thrust it into his hands.

     "You've got to be kidding," Mulder said wryly, looking down
at the antique sled in his hands.  

     "Would you rather go snowshoeing?"

     He weighed it over in his head, and imagined them pressed
tight against each other on the tiny strip of burnished wood. 
The hat was making his head hot and dizzy.  Yeah, the hat. 

     "Time's up, Mulder.  C'mon."  She stomped out of the shed,
not looking back.  

     They walked for about seven minutes to a small hill, where
Dana suddenly stopped in her tracks.

     "This is it."

     "Yeah, it sure is."

     She turned to scowl at him, and found him grinning at her. 
She smiled back hesitantly.  "We used to come here all the time
when we were kids."  She eyed the bumpy landscape warily.  "I
guess it seemed bigger when we were six."

     Mulder shrugged.  "Everything seems bigger when you're six."

     She tilted her head at him quizzically and opened her mouth,
but shut it again quickly.  Left wondering what she was going to
say, he followed her up the hill, dragging the sled behind him on
a rope.  When they got to the top, she pivoted to face him.

     "I get to go in front."  Now she sounded like she was six.

     "Why you?"  He wasn't really complaining, he just wanted to
make some trouble.
     
     "I'm smaller and it's my sled."

     "Right."  But he acquiesced, and held the sled on an even
patch for her to climb onto.  Her knees were slammed up against
her chest, and she waited stiffly for him to get on.  He snuggled
up behind her, his long lean legs wrapping around her hips and
tucking into the grooves in front of her.  She could feel his
warmth through the layers of clothes, but her breath didn't catch
in her throat until she discovered his arms snaking in between
her stomach and her raised thighs.  

     "Um, Mulder?"
     
     He didn't answer her and jerked his hips against hers to
move the sled.  They must have been on a patch of ice or
something, because it rocketed off down the hill, drenching them
in icy wind and snow.  Dana couldn't help laughing as they hit
the bottom, and the peals of glee echoed in the cold stillness
around them.  She pushed him away and jumped out of the sled
quickly, already running back to the top of the hill.  He managed
to catch up with her, the sled dragging behind him, and they got
in again.

     This time, they were halfway down the hill when he let out a
small gasp of excitement right in her ear, causing her to twitch
violently and send the sled into a skid of ice.  They rolled over
and over, until they landed in a heap at the bottom.  They had
both lost their hats, and the sled was several feet away, propped
up indignantly in the deep snow.  Fox was lying on top of her,
his chest heaving against hers.  Frosty plumes of his breath
caressed her pink cheeks and mingled with her erupting giggles.

     "Still bored, Scully?"  He made no motion to move, and her
giggling stopped as she met his warm hazel eyes.

     She couldn't answer.  She tried to get the words out, but
either her tongue was frozen, or the heart that was lodged in her
throat was just too large an impediment to speech.  She swallowed
the lump and answered shakily.  "Not bored, exactly."
     
     He realized that he must be crushing her, and rolled over so
that they were lying side by side.  His arms remained like steel
braces around her, unwilling to let her go.  She realized
suddenly that she didn't want him to let her go.  Ever.  The
questions burning in him were cooled and tempered by the snow,
but then ignited by the hot blue flame of her eyes on him.  He
groaned and twisted her now wet and stringy hair in his gloved
fingers and tilted her lips up to meet his.

     She was drowning in him.  It was like falling into an abyss. 
Hesitantly, she moved her mouth under his, nearly gasping when he
nibbled softly on her lower lip.  She pressed closer and let her
tongue run across his upper lip, a wordless moan catching in the
back of her throat.  The frost on her hair melted under his
fingers, and dripped seductively down her temples.  Tiny droplets
of water slid between their fused mouths, swallowing, tracing,
binding them together.  When they at last pulled apart, Mulder's
eyes were glazed over and Scully had a similarly lost expression 
on her pink face.     

     "Um, Mulder?"
     
     "Hmm?"

     She smiled at him, and it was like looking into the sun. 
"I'm freezing."

     He grinned back at her and pulled her up to her feet. 
"Better go back to the cabin.  We're soaked."

     He looped the sled rope around his wrist, and held out his
other hand for Scully to cling to as they hiked back to the
cabin.  By the time they got there, the melted snow on them had
frozen into a thin sheet of ice covering their bodies, and Scully
was shivering violently.  As soon as she got in the door, she
started tugging off her clothes, while Mulder looked on, amused.

     "Scully, there's nothing I'd like better, but-"

     She interrupted him by reaching over and yanking off his
sweater.  

     "In the interest of science, Mulder.  We can't afford to get
hypothermia."

     "Hypothermia?"

     "Hypothermia."  By now she was down to a t-shirt and silk
longjohns, and Mulder wasn't far behind.  The snow from their
clothes whipped around the room and hissed as droplets hit the
roaring fire.  She hesitated, her hand at the waistband of her
leggings, then her arm dropped to her side, and she plopped down
in a large chair by the fire.  She reached down and pulled off
her wet woolen socks, then thrust her bare feet out by the hearth
and flexed them in the firelight.  

     "Well, Mulder?  Aren't you going to make me some hot
chocolate or somethi-?"  The flames glowed on her face and hair,
making her eyes sparkle as she looked up at her partner.  Her
naked partner.  The teasing words died on her suddenly parched
lips as her bright eyes slowly drew up his body, lingering around
the middle.  Her mouth formed a silent oh as she finally met his
eyes. 

     They gleamed in the firelight as he swooped down beside her. 
"Definitely or something."

     Later, she didn't exactly remember how he pulled her onto the
braided rug on the floor by the hearth, or how he peeled the rest
of her clothes from her feverish body.  She couldn't precisely
recall the words she moaned in his warm ear as his fingers danced
across her writhing stomach and breasts and thighs.  She vaguely
remembered pushing him back at one point and draping herself over
him, her tongue flicking the sweat and icicles from his chest and
hips.  She did remember screaming his name as he finally plunged into
her, filling her with a fire that burned through her body
and seemed to shoot out her fingertips and toes, and the ends of
her hair as she sank into oblivion in his arms.

     Later, they lay together, still on the floor, an old blanket
from the couch pulled over them.  Clyde was watching them from the chair, 
a supremely bored expression on his face, after trying unsuccessfully to 
wrench the blanket off them with his nipping teeth.  Dana absently traced a 
fingernail over his left nipple, and glanced over at the window. 

     "It's dark now," she observed.

     "Hmm."

     "Started snowing again."

     He propped himself up on his elbow and grasped her chin in
his hand.  She turned to look at him, and what she saw no longer
scared her.  It completed her, fulfilled her.  His eyes twinkled.

     "Let's melt it."

     And they did.  Again and again and again.

THE END...  
     
     
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                  		um, nic
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