A Winter's Tale, Part 10
Dec. 31st, 2007 12:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anjouficTitle: A Winter's Tale 10/21
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
comice aka Anjou (Anjou@rocketmail.com)
Posting Date: December 2007/January 2008
Rating: R for language and sexuality; M for Mature readers
Classification: Mulder/Scully, UST/MSR, AU
Archive: No archival until the story is completed, please. I'll be submitting to Ephemeral and Gossamer myself.
Spoilers: Through Two Fathers/One Son (S6), then AU. In other words, no Arcadia and beyond. Mytharc-y.
Disclaimer: All X-Files personnel belong to 1013 and Fox. All other elements are mine.
Author's Note: It's pretty definite that this story will be 23 or 24 parts. I'm hoping to get it off to final beta in the next couple of days, and will have a better idea by then.
Daily posts can be read on my fic journal: anjoufic, as well as Ephemeral and other XF fic sites. The whole tale will be archived at my website, No Other … , maintained by the generous dtg, when it is completed.
As always, thanks to my sister and editrix, Suzanne, for her support.
Summary: Cast your memory back to the dark days of Season 6, to the period immediately following the confrontation between Mulder and Scully in the Gunmen's Office. It is late winter, dark and cold, the landscape obscured and transformed by snow and ice. One must step carefully, for the very ground can be treacherous. This is a lesson Mulder and Scully have already learned when the pristine snow in Antartica yielded a long-buried secret. But the winter can hold many secrets, and could tell many tales, if it so chose.
This is but one.
~*~
It was her turn to keep watch, which was just as well, since she didn't think she would be able to sleep anyway. Mulder seemed unconcerned that anyone would try and grab Hannah on such a beastly night, but to Scully it seemed that a night like this would provide the perfect cover. She flattened herself against the wall and peered out from the side of the drapes at the outside world. The night was still except for the constantly falling snow. No car had been by their motel in hours, not even a snowplow on its way to the nearby interstate. The wind had picked up and drifted the snow, but she had to believe that it had snowed several more inches in the hours since Mulder had returned.
She crossed the room quietly and placed her gun back on the bedside table that stood between her and Hannah. She and Mulder had swapped sides of the bed, but Mulder was curled on his side, facing Hannah even in his sleep. Mulder was a surprisingly quiet sleeper. She'd assumed that he'd snore terribly because of the size of his nose, but over the years had learned that he only did so when he had one of his infrequent colds or was sleeping on his back. Turned on his side, as he was now, he slept with almost no sound, the line of dark lashes resting on his cheek as he dreamt. One hand was placed in front of him, open palm down on the bed. It looked like he was extending it toward Hannah, but she knew that he was looking for her, had watched him place his hand in the space where she'd been lying when she rose 45 minutes ago. She turned from her observation of him when he began to stir. Mulder was a notoriously light sleeper, and she didn't want to rouse him unnecessarily.
She picked his watch up from the bedside table and watched the second hand roam across its face as she slipped her fingers under the covers to find Hannah's wrist. Hannah slept heavily, but Scully could see the shadows under her eyes, and the rosiness in her cheeks seemed stark, too-bright spots of color against the pallor of her skin. She listened to Hannah's pulse while the wind kicked gusts of snow against the building. It was slower than when she'd checked an hour ago, but still fast and strong for a pediatric pulse. She made a note on the pad on the bedside table, and then picked up the ear bulb and inserted it gently into Hannah's ear. She hadn't let herself check Hannah's temperature endlessly, knowing that it would take time for the medicine to reduce her fever. She held her breath as the numbers rose over 100, and then stopped at 101.2. She sighed. It was a reduction, even if it wasn't as much as she'd hoped.
"Scully?" Mulder was wide-eyed in the dark.
"101.2," she answered.
Mulder closed his eyes in relief. "It's going in the right direction, Scully."
She nodded absently, drawing the dose up into the eyedropper, and then giving it to Hannah, who had a quizzical expression on her sleeping face. She drew the covers back up around her, then straightened out her animals. She could feel Mulder watching her as she smoothed the hair back from Hannah's brow and sent a silent prayer heavenward, but she didn't turn to look at him again. She felt too vulnerable. Instead, she cleaned up the bedside table and got things ready for Hannah's next vitals check and dosage. She crossed the room and went to the bathroom, washing and setting the cup and eye dropper to sterilize in a plastic container she'd had Mulder buy for the purpose. She used the toilet and washed her hands carefully, swinging open the door to find Mulder sitting on the side of the bed waiting. She was startled and wary to see him so – she wasn't really in the mood for talking, but Mulder stood before she could say anything and moved toward the bathroom, making his intentions clear. She passed him in silence and went to her side of the bed as he closed the door, lying down on her side to face Hannah.
He was quiet when he came out of the bathroom, climbing into the bed and lying down behind her without comment. Without looking, she knew that his body rested in a pose that was a mirror of hers. He wasn't touching her, but the gap between their bodies, just a few inches, seemed charged with energy. She could feel the warmth emanating from him, and closed her eyes and tried to will herself to relax, and to maintain her position and not to drift magnetically backwards toward him. Last night, when she had been so bold to share a bed with him, the atmosphere had been different. Tonight, something between them had mended, but something else had changed.
She opened her eyes and watched Hannah sleeping in the faint light that bled out from the bathroom door. Still, it wasn't the right time for her to be feeling this way. It never was.
She sighed and Mulder stirred behind her, as if roused from a light doze. She felt his hand sliding across the gap between them just before he brushed his fingers over her spine, resting his open hand against her waist. "Go to sleep, Scully," he said thickly, his voice heavy and slow in the mid-night air. "Stop thinking. Rest." The last word was expelled almost on an exhale, and she closed her eyes and tried not to think, willing herself to sleep … and to stay on her own side of the bed this time, keeping the only point of contact between them the one he had initiated.
*~*
She must have fallen asleep at some point, because her first reaction when she rose to that liminal state where thoughts were cascading through the back of her mind and merging with the remnants of her dreams, was surprise at the feel of Mulder's breath against her cheek. Her eyes popped open to see that she was still in the exact same place that she'd been the last moment she'd been aware of, but now she was held fast in Mulder's arms. He was wrapped around her thoroughly, his head behind hers on her pillow. Somehow, he'd gotten both of his arms around her without waking her and gathered her in so closely that her upper body was barely resting on the mattress. His arms were crossed over her torso as possessively as Hannah's around her tiger.
When she stiffened in surprise, his arms tightened and she could feel a quizzical rumbling from his chest. She forced herself to relax and Mulder's grip on her loosened as he sighed. She could hear his early morning stubble as he rubbed his face against the pillow, his feet shifting restlessly somewhere far beneath her own.
She shifted a hand out from under the covers to the table, reaching for Mulder's watch. It had been almost two hours since the last time she checked Hannah's vitals. She took one more minute to savor the warmth of Mulder's arms and to record the physical sensation of being held this way. She'd never have imagined Mulder to be a cuddler, or maybe it was just her -- she didn't seem to inspire cuddling in her partners. She'd also never noticed how low in the bed Mulder slept. His feet were definitely hanging over the edge of the mattress -- she could feel the draft from the bottom of the bed where the bedclothes had been kicked out. Mulder's long legs weren't tangled up with hers, though. Curled on her side, her toes were somewhere just below his knees, her bottom pressed against the base of his abdomen, but above his groin.
That was probably for the best, she mused, and moved to get up, resigned to the fact that doing so would wake Mulder and lead to an awkward scene between them. To her surprise, Mulder moved away from her easily, flopping onto his back but remaining asleep. She stood next to the bed and peered at him. He wasn't pretending. She stopped at the foot of the bed to cover up his big feet as she went to use the bathroom and wash her hands before checking Hannah.
When she returned to the room, she resisted the impulse to take Hannah's temperature again, and just focused on observing her and recording her pulse. It was definitely slower this time, and more relaxed, both good signs. She marked the results down and turned back to the bed to find Mulder's eyes on her. Interesting that he hadn't woken when she'd broken away from him, but now appeared wide awake.
"Scully?" he whispered urgently, at her continued failure to give him the information that he'd woken up for.
"She's doing fine, Mulder," she answered, slipping under the covers, and reaching for her glass of water to cover the sudden awkwardness she felt. He probably had no memory of holding her in his sleep, an idea that made her terribly sad.
"Scully?" she felt his hand search hers out under the covers and give it a squeeze.
"I'm OK," she said. "Tired."
Mulder nodded, and got up out of the bed, picking up his gun from the bedside table, and shivering in the cooler air. He prowled to the window and pulled the curtain back warily. "Still snowing," he said. He wandered by the front door, absently checking the bolt and then, scratching his stomach, went into the bathroom.
When he came back out, she was lying on her back with her eyes closed, trying to will herself back to sleep. She had tried to lie on her side facing Hannah, but her back felt so cold that it practically ached. She chastised herself for feeling bereft over something that was probably just instinct on Mulder's part. It was cold, and she was a warm body in the bed next to him. There was nothing more to it than that. Her rationale firmly in place, she kept herself still when Mulder got back into the bed. The mattress dipped under his greater weight and she felt herself slide a little bit toward him. He turned onto his side, facing her, and after a minute she felt him tuck the blankets down in between them so that she wasn't getting a draft.
"Thanks, Mulder," she said softly, eyes still closed.
She heard his answering chuckle, and then felt his hand tuck the hair behind her ear. "I got your back, Scully," he whispered.
She could feel herself smiling as she drifted off once more.
~*~
It was still very early when she awoke for good. Mulder's watch told her that it was just before six o'clock, but his side of the bed was empty. She lay there for a minute, wondering if it was still snowing. She had a few minutes to wait before taking Hannah's temperature again, and if Hannah's fever stayed reduced, she'd like to get some breakfast in her before giving her next dose of medicine. Hannah's four o'clock temperature had been 99.4. It wasn't close enough to a normal temperature for Scully to consider Hannah's fever reduced, but it was a good sign, as was the fact that Hannah's temperature was conforming to normal circadian rhythms despite the persistent elevation. Still … Hannah had to achieve and maintain a normal temperature for at least 24 hours before she'd stop worrying.
She sighed and sat up, picking up her water glass. Just as she realized that the bathroom door was still slightly ajar, Mulder's head and shoulders appeared, hovering over the foot of the bed.
"Jesus, Mulder!" she spluttered around a mouthful of water. "What the hell are you doing down there?"
"Push-ups," he whispered, smiling at her. "And be quiet!"
Hand over her pounding heart, she noted his posture, with his hair hanging over his forehead. He was slightly flushed as he dropped back out of sight. She flopped down after placing her water glass back on the nightstand. It suddenly occurred to her that she'd most likely be spending the day trapped in a tiny motel room with a man whose energy level could power a small city on a normal day, and a little girl who was sick. She groaned aloud, but quietly, and Mulder's head appeared over the edge of the bed again.
"Scully?" he asked, standing up and coming around the bed. "You're not getting sick, too, are you?" He really looked worried.
"No, no," she said hastily, levering herself up on an elbow. "Just, uh … my back kinda hurts."
Mulder looked mystified. "Really?" he said. "I thought that was one of the better motel mattresses I've ever slept on," he was gesturing expansively but whispering, standing there in his too thin pajama pants with his t-shirt clinging to his torso. The muscles in his forearms were corded in definition due to his recent exertions. "I had a great night's sleep." He was just a bit more than six feet of walking temptation, thrumming with energy and total obtuseness.
She bit back a moan at this confirmation of her theory and shooed him back to the foot of the bed. "Exercise, Monster Boy," she ordered. She dropped back down onto the bed.
"Scully!" he whispered from the end of the bed. Sit-ups this time, she surmised, raising her head to see what he was doing. "It's still snowing," he announced.
She covered her head with his pillow and moaned. Thank God she had reminded him to get more coffee.
~*~
Part 11
Author:
comice aka Anjou (Anjou@rocketmail.com)Posting Date: December 2007/January 2008
Rating: R for language and sexuality; M for Mature readers
Classification: Mulder/Scully, UST/MSR, AU
Archive: No archival until the story is completed, please. I'll be submitting to Ephemeral and Gossamer myself.
Spoilers: Through Two Fathers/One Son (S6), then AU. In other words, no Arcadia and beyond. Mytharc-y.
Disclaimer: All X-Files personnel belong to 1013 and Fox. All other elements are mine.
Author's Note: It's pretty definite that this story will be 23 or 24 parts. I'm hoping to get it off to final beta in the next couple of days, and will have a better idea by then.
Daily posts can be read on my fic journal: anjoufic, as well as Ephemeral and other XF fic sites. The whole tale will be archived at my website, No Other … , maintained by the generous dtg, when it is completed.
As always, thanks to my sister and editrix, Suzanne, for her support.
Summary: Cast your memory back to the dark days of Season 6, to the period immediately following the confrontation between Mulder and Scully in the Gunmen's Office. It is late winter, dark and cold, the landscape obscured and transformed by snow and ice. One must step carefully, for the very ground can be treacherous. This is a lesson Mulder and Scully have already learned when the pristine snow in Antartica yielded a long-buried secret. But the winter can hold many secrets, and could tell many tales, if it so chose.
This is but one.
~*~
It was her turn to keep watch, which was just as well, since she didn't think she would be able to sleep anyway. Mulder seemed unconcerned that anyone would try and grab Hannah on such a beastly night, but to Scully it seemed that a night like this would provide the perfect cover. She flattened herself against the wall and peered out from the side of the drapes at the outside world. The night was still except for the constantly falling snow. No car had been by their motel in hours, not even a snowplow on its way to the nearby interstate. The wind had picked up and drifted the snow, but she had to believe that it had snowed several more inches in the hours since Mulder had returned.
She crossed the room quietly and placed her gun back on the bedside table that stood between her and Hannah. She and Mulder had swapped sides of the bed, but Mulder was curled on his side, facing Hannah even in his sleep. Mulder was a surprisingly quiet sleeper. She'd assumed that he'd snore terribly because of the size of his nose, but over the years had learned that he only did so when he had one of his infrequent colds or was sleeping on his back. Turned on his side, as he was now, he slept with almost no sound, the line of dark lashes resting on his cheek as he dreamt. One hand was placed in front of him, open palm down on the bed. It looked like he was extending it toward Hannah, but she knew that he was looking for her, had watched him place his hand in the space where she'd been lying when she rose 45 minutes ago. She turned from her observation of him when he began to stir. Mulder was a notoriously light sleeper, and she didn't want to rouse him unnecessarily.
She picked his watch up from the bedside table and watched the second hand roam across its face as she slipped her fingers under the covers to find Hannah's wrist. Hannah slept heavily, but Scully could see the shadows under her eyes, and the rosiness in her cheeks seemed stark, too-bright spots of color against the pallor of her skin. She listened to Hannah's pulse while the wind kicked gusts of snow against the building. It was slower than when she'd checked an hour ago, but still fast and strong for a pediatric pulse. She made a note on the pad on the bedside table, and then picked up the ear bulb and inserted it gently into Hannah's ear. She hadn't let herself check Hannah's temperature endlessly, knowing that it would take time for the medicine to reduce her fever. She held her breath as the numbers rose over 100, and then stopped at 101.2. She sighed. It was a reduction, even if it wasn't as much as she'd hoped.
"Scully?" Mulder was wide-eyed in the dark.
"101.2," she answered.
Mulder closed his eyes in relief. "It's going in the right direction, Scully."
She nodded absently, drawing the dose up into the eyedropper, and then giving it to Hannah, who had a quizzical expression on her sleeping face. She drew the covers back up around her, then straightened out her animals. She could feel Mulder watching her as she smoothed the hair back from Hannah's brow and sent a silent prayer heavenward, but she didn't turn to look at him again. She felt too vulnerable. Instead, she cleaned up the bedside table and got things ready for Hannah's next vitals check and dosage. She crossed the room and went to the bathroom, washing and setting the cup and eye dropper to sterilize in a plastic container she'd had Mulder buy for the purpose. She used the toilet and washed her hands carefully, swinging open the door to find Mulder sitting on the side of the bed waiting. She was startled and wary to see him so – she wasn't really in the mood for talking, but Mulder stood before she could say anything and moved toward the bathroom, making his intentions clear. She passed him in silence and went to her side of the bed as he closed the door, lying down on her side to face Hannah.
He was quiet when he came out of the bathroom, climbing into the bed and lying down behind her without comment. Without looking, she knew that his body rested in a pose that was a mirror of hers. He wasn't touching her, but the gap between their bodies, just a few inches, seemed charged with energy. She could feel the warmth emanating from him, and closed her eyes and tried to will herself to relax, and to maintain her position and not to drift magnetically backwards toward him. Last night, when she had been so bold to share a bed with him, the atmosphere had been different. Tonight, something between them had mended, but something else had changed.
She opened her eyes and watched Hannah sleeping in the faint light that bled out from the bathroom door. Still, it wasn't the right time for her to be feeling this way. It never was.
She sighed and Mulder stirred behind her, as if roused from a light doze. She felt his hand sliding across the gap between them just before he brushed his fingers over her spine, resting his open hand against her waist. "Go to sleep, Scully," he said thickly, his voice heavy and slow in the mid-night air. "Stop thinking. Rest." The last word was expelled almost on an exhale, and she closed her eyes and tried not to think, willing herself to sleep … and to stay on her own side of the bed this time, keeping the only point of contact between them the one he had initiated.
*~*
She must have fallen asleep at some point, because her first reaction when she rose to that liminal state where thoughts were cascading through the back of her mind and merging with the remnants of her dreams, was surprise at the feel of Mulder's breath against her cheek. Her eyes popped open to see that she was still in the exact same place that she'd been the last moment she'd been aware of, but now she was held fast in Mulder's arms. He was wrapped around her thoroughly, his head behind hers on her pillow. Somehow, he'd gotten both of his arms around her without waking her and gathered her in so closely that her upper body was barely resting on the mattress. His arms were crossed over her torso as possessively as Hannah's around her tiger.
When she stiffened in surprise, his arms tightened and she could feel a quizzical rumbling from his chest. She forced herself to relax and Mulder's grip on her loosened as he sighed. She could hear his early morning stubble as he rubbed his face against the pillow, his feet shifting restlessly somewhere far beneath her own.
She shifted a hand out from under the covers to the table, reaching for Mulder's watch. It had been almost two hours since the last time she checked Hannah's vitals. She took one more minute to savor the warmth of Mulder's arms and to record the physical sensation of being held this way. She'd never have imagined Mulder to be a cuddler, or maybe it was just her -- she didn't seem to inspire cuddling in her partners. She'd also never noticed how low in the bed Mulder slept. His feet were definitely hanging over the edge of the mattress -- she could feel the draft from the bottom of the bed where the bedclothes had been kicked out. Mulder's long legs weren't tangled up with hers, though. Curled on her side, her toes were somewhere just below his knees, her bottom pressed against the base of his abdomen, but above his groin.
That was probably for the best, she mused, and moved to get up, resigned to the fact that doing so would wake Mulder and lead to an awkward scene between them. To her surprise, Mulder moved away from her easily, flopping onto his back but remaining asleep. She stood next to the bed and peered at him. He wasn't pretending. She stopped at the foot of the bed to cover up his big feet as she went to use the bathroom and wash her hands before checking Hannah.
When she returned to the room, she resisted the impulse to take Hannah's temperature again, and just focused on observing her and recording her pulse. It was definitely slower this time, and more relaxed, both good signs. She marked the results down and turned back to the bed to find Mulder's eyes on her. Interesting that he hadn't woken when she'd broken away from him, but now appeared wide awake.
"Scully?" he whispered urgently, at her continued failure to give him the information that he'd woken up for.
"She's doing fine, Mulder," she answered, slipping under the covers, and reaching for her glass of water to cover the sudden awkwardness she felt. He probably had no memory of holding her in his sleep, an idea that made her terribly sad.
"Scully?" she felt his hand search hers out under the covers and give it a squeeze.
"I'm OK," she said. "Tired."
Mulder nodded, and got up out of the bed, picking up his gun from the bedside table, and shivering in the cooler air. He prowled to the window and pulled the curtain back warily. "Still snowing," he said. He wandered by the front door, absently checking the bolt and then, scratching his stomach, went into the bathroom.
When he came back out, she was lying on her back with her eyes closed, trying to will herself back to sleep. She had tried to lie on her side facing Hannah, but her back felt so cold that it practically ached. She chastised herself for feeling bereft over something that was probably just instinct on Mulder's part. It was cold, and she was a warm body in the bed next to him. There was nothing more to it than that. Her rationale firmly in place, she kept herself still when Mulder got back into the bed. The mattress dipped under his greater weight and she felt herself slide a little bit toward him. He turned onto his side, facing her, and after a minute she felt him tuck the blankets down in between them so that she wasn't getting a draft.
"Thanks, Mulder," she said softly, eyes still closed.
She heard his answering chuckle, and then felt his hand tuck the hair behind her ear. "I got your back, Scully," he whispered.
She could feel herself smiling as she drifted off once more.
~*~
It was still very early when she awoke for good. Mulder's watch told her that it was just before six o'clock, but his side of the bed was empty. She lay there for a minute, wondering if it was still snowing. She had a few minutes to wait before taking Hannah's temperature again, and if Hannah's fever stayed reduced, she'd like to get some breakfast in her before giving her next dose of medicine. Hannah's four o'clock temperature had been 99.4. It wasn't close enough to a normal temperature for Scully to consider Hannah's fever reduced, but it was a good sign, as was the fact that Hannah's temperature was conforming to normal circadian rhythms despite the persistent elevation. Still … Hannah had to achieve and maintain a normal temperature for at least 24 hours before she'd stop worrying.
She sighed and sat up, picking up her water glass. Just as she realized that the bathroom door was still slightly ajar, Mulder's head and shoulders appeared, hovering over the foot of the bed.
"Jesus, Mulder!" she spluttered around a mouthful of water. "What the hell are you doing down there?"
"Push-ups," he whispered, smiling at her. "And be quiet!"
Hand over her pounding heart, she noted his posture, with his hair hanging over his forehead. He was slightly flushed as he dropped back out of sight. She flopped down after placing her water glass back on the nightstand. It suddenly occurred to her that she'd most likely be spending the day trapped in a tiny motel room with a man whose energy level could power a small city on a normal day, and a little girl who was sick. She groaned aloud, but quietly, and Mulder's head appeared over the edge of the bed again.
"Scully?" he asked, standing up and coming around the bed. "You're not getting sick, too, are you?" He really looked worried.
"No, no," she said hastily, levering herself up on an elbow. "Just, uh … my back kinda hurts."
Mulder looked mystified. "Really?" he said. "I thought that was one of the better motel mattresses I've ever slept on," he was gesturing expansively but whispering, standing there in his too thin pajama pants with his t-shirt clinging to his torso. The muscles in his forearms were corded in definition due to his recent exertions. "I had a great night's sleep." He was just a bit more than six feet of walking temptation, thrumming with energy and total obtuseness.
She bit back a moan at this confirmation of her theory and shooed him back to the foot of the bed. "Exercise, Monster Boy," she ordered. She dropped back down onto the bed.
"Scully!" he whispered from the end of the bed. Sit-ups this time, she surmised, raising her head to see what he was doing. "It's still snowing," he announced.
She covered her head with his pillow and moaned. Thank God she had reminded him to get more coffee.
~*~
Part 11
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-12-31 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-31 07:15 pm (UTC)there is a change is the athmosphere...
Date: 2008-01-01 01:22 am (UTC)Re: there is a change is the athmosphere...
Date: 2008-01-01 07:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-02 02:11 am (UTC)*off to read part 11*
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 08:14 am (UTC)I wish I had something more helpful to say, but "yum" is about all I'm capable of at the moment.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 11:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 07:16 pm (UTC)Regarded I am a bit late to it all (what happens when you visit Haven only sporadically) -- so, must hurry along to catch up with the next bit!
Only comments so far :
Mulder reads *poetry* ... I suppose... sounds rather romantic, no? [but definate cause for Scully!rolleyes and *THAT* I can definatly envision ;D]
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 11:43 pm (UTC)