From: xftruth@aol.com (XF Truth)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: Snow Under the Tree NC-17 (1/2)
Date: 25 Jan 1996 14:22:35 -0500


This story comes about as a result of two challenges recently posted on
the net.  One asked for a romance written in honor of the blizzard of '96.
 The other was a request for an NC-17 story set Under the Tree.  These
seemed to be combinable, so here is the result. I'm sorry if it seems a
bit contrived...

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of these characters.  I guarantee it would
cost more to sue me than you could possibly gain in return.  Chris Carter,
10/13 and FOX television are the proper owners of the X-Files and all
characters affiliated with it. (And they should have won some Golden
Globes for their efforts)

Disclaimer II: I don't know very much about the song that is used here. 
It was given to me by a friend. This is the information I have: "The
Captive"  Freedom, Flight, and Fancy, Firebird Music.

***NC-17 Warning***  If you're underage, don't read this.  If you are
opposed to romance/sex between our two favorite characters you probably
should also skip this.

    SNOW UNDER THE TREE


Dana Scully's apartment
January 5, 1996, 3:17 pm
 
 Fox Mulder shivered slightly as he followed Dana Scully through the door
to her apartment.  "I cannot believe that the heat broke," he complained
as he removed his coat.  "What if we had needed to use the facilities in
the Hoover building?" he fumed.
 "If you need to use the facilities, its down the hall," Scully rejoined
with a faint smile.
 Mulder grinned wryly.  "I think if we just finish the explanation of the
kidnapping and the events which followed, Skinner will be satisfied and we
can quit for the three-day weekend."
 Scully nodded wearily and booted up her computer, easily calling up the
half-completed file.  Mulder wandered into the kitchen and started up some
coffee, anticipating a struggle ahead.



 Several hours later found the two of them going over the same ground. 
"But why don't you want to report what you think you saw, Scully?" Mulder
demanded, reaching for the mouse.
 "No!" she insisted, leaning forward to hit save before Mulder could
change the document.  "I don't want this report to be anything other tham
professional."
 Mulder rolled his eyes.  "How professional  is it to leave out your
observations because its inconvenient to report them?" he demanded.
 Scully whirled in her chair and glared at him.  He met her gaze steadily.
 She sighed, "Look, I prefer to think of those events as private, OK?" her
eyes begged him to give in.
 Mulder shrugged.  "Whatever.  I should probably go before that monster of
yours rips my coat to shreds."
 "He can hear you when say things like that," Scully warned, following
Mulder back into the living room.
 Picking up his coat, Mulder glanced at the Christmas tree by the window.
"Are you going to leave this up all year?" he asked.  The sudden silence
made him turn to face her.  "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing the sadness
that marred her features.
 "Nothing," she answered automatically, then, upon seeing the skeptical
look on Mulder's face added, " That's exactly what my father asked me the
night..." she broke off suddenly.
 "I'm sorry, Scully," Mulder responded, instantly feeling guilty for
having reminded her.  He gently put his arms around her and held for a
moment.
 Scully enjoyed the sensation of being wrapped in his arms, but quickly
backed away, knowing the dangers of getting too comfortable in such a
position.  Mulder glanced at her questioningly, but steped back, somewhat
frightened himself of the emotions that being close to Dana Scully always
stirred.
 "I should go," Mulder repeated, heading for the door.  Scully nodded
absently, staring fixedly out the window.  Mulder assumed she was
depressed, so he opened the door quietly.
 "Hang on a second," she ordered softly.
 "What?" he asked in surprise.
 She moved several steps closer to the window, then burst into laughter.
 "What?" he repeated, impatient to know what was going on.
 "Look out the window," she responded.  
 Mulder did so, and his jaw dropped open in shock. "What in the...how
on...where the hell did all that snow come from?" he demanded, as if she
could provide an answer.  He stared out at an all-white world, covered in
a still-thickening blanket of snow.  He could barely see the street for
the storm.  What he could make out of his car indicated that it would be
extremely difficult to dig out, even if the streets weren't a total

disaster area.  He groaned loudly.
 Scully smiled sympathetically at him. "It could be worse," she pointed
out dryly. 
 "Really?  How?" 
 "We could be snowed in at your place," Scully observed.  "Then we
wouldn't have any food."
 "I have food," Mulder responded autmotically, not really willing to rise
to the bait.  His mind was following other tracks. "Snowed in," he echoed
softly. "We really are, aren't we?"
 Scully studied Mulder quietly, wondering how to interpret his reaction. 
"Yes," she confirmed.  "Until the snow stops and the streets are plowed we
are very much snowed in."
 Mulder glanced about uneasily, then shrugged out of his coat and tossed
it over a chair.  Instantly, a small ball of moving fur attached itself to
the chair and began to explore the coat. "Scully!" Mulder groaned.
 She stifled a smile.  "That's not his name," she pointed out, heading for
the kitchen.
 "OK, you little monster," Mulder growled, "you and I are going to have a
chat."
 Scully poked her head out of the kitchen.  "As long as you two are going
to chat, would you mind taking him for a walk?"
 Mulder stood dumbfounded for a minute, then reluctantly snapped the leash
on and dragged the dog out the door.


 Scully started at the sound of the door slamming, then giggled as she
heard Mulder swearing from the next room. "Lovely weather this time of
year, isn't it?" she called.  Mulder's complaining increased.
 She emerged from the kitchen to find Mulder staring fixedly at the
television screen, switching channels at a frightening rate of speed. 
"C'mon," she offered, "have some soup.  It's good food."  She was rewarded
with a quick smile as Mulder obediently followed her to the kitchen.  She
was unsurprised when he grabbed the bowl of soup and headed right back to
the TV.  Rolling her eyes, she followed him.
 After a few trips through the stations it was clear that there was very
little on.  Mulder left The Weather Channel, in hopes of learning
something new about the situation.
 While the weather person explained about the problems of living in
Georgia, Mulder examined Scully's tree.  He was pleased to see that she
had put up the ornament he had given her the year before, a Marvin the
Martian replica that had taken him days to find.  He couldn't contain a
laugh at the sight of another recently acquired ornament.
 "What?" Scully asked, startled out of her concentration on cooling the
soup enough to eat.  "The weather is funny?" She raised an eyebrow in
surprise.

 Mulder grinned wickedly.  "No, I just didn't expect you to put up the
ornament that Frohicke gave you, that's all."
 Sculyl glanced at the tree, then blushed slightly at the sight of the
small plastic square dangling from a wire hook.  "It's red, that's
Christmasy," she defended.
 "The package or its contents?" Mulder asked smoothly, provoking a deeper
blush.
 "The package of course.  Why would I know about the contents?" She
observed Mulder deciding whether to continue the conversation or not and
was pleased when he dropped the subject as the weather person's focus
finally shifted to D.C.
 "And in the nation's capitol there is an unusual amount of accumulation
this evening, which may reach as high as 24 inches."
 "24 inches!" both agents echoed in horror.
 "There seems to be no indication of the snow stopping anytime soon.  As
the Doppler radar shows..."
 "I can't believe it," Mulder moaned.  "They finally get the government
reopened and its going to be closed on account of snow."
 "I sincerely doubt they're going to close the government, Mulder," Scully
said in exasperation.
 Without a word, Mulder switched to CNN, where a reporter was standing in
front of what might have been the White House saying, "...except for
essential personnel, the US government will be closed again, this time,
due to weather." Mulder cast a smug look at Scully, who was busily
ignoring him.
 "Well," she said after a minute of silence, "maybe we're essential
personnel."
 "Essential personnel?" he repeated scornfully. "We're the Spooky Patrol."
He paused at the sound of a bark and the sudden appearance of the
Pomeranian from out of the depths of his coat.  "What?" he asked
irritably.
 Scully tried to stifle a grin.  "He thinks you were calling him."
 Mulder's eyes shot daggers at her.  "What a stupid thing to name a dog
anyway," he grumbled.
 Scully smiled sweetly.  "You would maybe have preferred Fox?"
 "I would have preferred if you gave this silly creature away.  What do
you need with a dog?"
 Scully shrugged.  "What do you need with fish?  Anyway Clyde gave him to
me."
 Mulder frowned thoughtfully at that response. Scully had a faraway look
in her eyes and he wondered what she was thinking about.  When she finally
looked at him again, he raised a questioning eyebrow. "I was just
thinking," she answered his unasked question quietly. "Do you ever think
about the things he said?"
 "Not really," he lied casually.  "Why, what did he say to you?"

"He said...he said that I wasn't going to die.  What do you make of
that?"
 "I think that goes well beyond the realm of extreme possibility, Scully,"
Mulder responded quietly.  "As a scientist, you must know that that's
impossible."
 Hesitantly, Scully nodded.  "I guess you're right.  He was probably just
kidding." Then she grinned broadly.  "How about you?"
 "How about me what?" Mulder asked suspiciously.  Scully just looked at
him.  Mulder began to color. "You know he wasn't serious about that."
 "Do I?" Scully asked lightly.  "How do I know what you do when you're
home alone at night?"
 Mulder moved closer to her on the couch to glare at her more directly.
"Would you like to know, Scully?  Would you like to know what I do when
I'm home alone at night?" his voice had an eerie calm tone to it.
 Scully blinked, suddenly nervous.  "I don't know, Mulder," she responded,
careful to keep her voice from shaking. "Would I like to know?"
 Mulder hesitated, then suddenly pulled back. "No," he confessed with a
sheepish grin, "probably not."
 Scully relaxed and picked up the TV remote in hopes of finding something
distracting to watch.


 They endured the exploits of Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy, Strange Luck
and Xena.  Periodically, one or the other of them would peer curiously out
the window, only to return to the couch with reports of more and deeper
snowfall, with no sign of letting up.  
 Mulder was beginning to increasingly suspect that he was going to be
trapped at Scully's overnight at least. He could not explain to himself
why this made him so uncomfortable.  He'd stayed here before, right? 
True, the last time he was here he was so sick and drugged that he had no
recollection of the event, but that shouldn't matter.  There was nothing
inappropriate about staying over at one's partners house, he firmly
reminded himself.  Then why did he seem to be having such inappropriate
thoughts?
 Scully shifted position uncomfortably on the couch.  Though she tried to
focus on the television, she found her thoughts wandering in the direction
of her seatmate.  She was aware of his every move and sigh.  The thought
of him being trapped with her overnight or longer made her heart beat
unusually fast.  It's no big deal, she told herself.  He's just going to
sleep on the couch while you go into the bedroom.  It's no different than
being in adjoining hotel rooms.  She tried not to think about the sorts of
erotic dreams that adjoining hotel rooms inevitably brought her.
 Mulder let out a sigh and Scully automatically glanced his way.  Their
eyes locked, then both parties dropped their gaze, embarrassed about the
way their thoughts were headed. Mulder recovered first, tilting his head

to one side as he examined Scully studying her hands.  He wondered what
she was thinking about that had produced such an unusual reaction.  He
decided to watch her hands as well, in case there was something he was
missing.
 A moment later Scully glanced shyly up at Mulder and followed his gaze in
bewilderment.  He was staring at her hands, of all things.  "Mulder," she
began quietly.
 "Hmmm?" he responded, not willing to lift his gaze.
 "What are you looking at?"
 Finally, he raised his eyes to meet her own.  "Umm your hands?"
 Scully studied him for a long moment, then stretched her fingers
luxuriously.  "I use Palmolive.  Can you tell?"
 Mulder stared at her for a long moment, then burst into laughter as her
reference sunk in.  Absently, he reached out to check the smoothness of
her hands.  He took her right hand in his left and stroked it gently. "Ahh
very nice," he praised lightly.
 Scully grinned at him, trying to cover the sudden increase in her
heartrate with banter. When he continued to hold her hand, staring oddly
into her eyes, the grin faded and she colored slightly.
 Mulder finally realized that he was staring and that his hand was on fire
from the contact.  He abruptly released his hold, causing her hand to fall
back into her lap.  Seeing the color rise in her cheeks, he quickly
glanced away and attempted to find something to divert their attention.
 Displaying unusually good timing for a nusiance, Spooky sneezed into the
silence.  Scully instantly focused her gaze on the small pup, doctor mode
in full gear.  "Come here, Spooky," she called softly.  Sensing impending
medication, the dog promptly scooted into the bedroom to cower under the
bed.
 Scully sighed and rose to follow.  Mulder began to stand as well, but she
shook her head.  "It's OK.  He does this a lot.  Relax and watch your
show.  I'll be back when he's taken care of." Scully headed for the
bedroom and closed the door to prevent Spooky from dashing back out and
finding a new hiding place.
 Feeling an unexpected pang of sympathy for the dog, Mulder sat back on
the couch and attempted to relax.
 
 Scully entered the bedroom, determination in her eye, carefully not
asking herself why she was so relieved to be away from Mulder's
overpowering presence.  She opted instead to focus upon the task at hand:
locating and treating the dog.
 A small sneeze caught her attention, and Scully knelt next to the bed and
called out gently.  Spooky came out hesitantly, suspicious of Scully's
intention.  Finally, he came close enough for Scully to scoop him up and
carry him into the adjoining bathroom, where she set him in the sink for
an examination.

Spooky whined and clawed at the sides of the sink, but could not get a
hold on the slippery surface.  Scully examined his ears, eyes, and nose,
trying to decide what would help.  She suspected that what the dog needed
most was to stay inside where it was warm and get some rest. Scully
completed her examination and carried the little bundle back into the
bedroom, despositing him gently into the wicker basket that was his bed.
 Defiantly, Spooky sat up, not willing to go to bed just yet.  Scully
cocked her head to one side, thinking. "Go to sleep," she suggested. 
Spooky wagged his tail.  "Lay down," Scully tried.  Spooky wagged his tail
harder.


=====================================================================
=====

From: xftruth@aol.com (XF Truth)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: Snow Under the Tree NC-17 (2/2)
Date: 25 Jan 1996 14:22:40 -0500


This is part 2 of "Snow Under the Tree'  see disclaimers in part 1
***NC-17 Warning still in effect***


 Scully sighed deeply, then absently began humming as she thought.  Much
to her surprise, the dog stopped wagging his tail and sat down, studying
her expectantly.  "So?" Scully said softly.  "Its music you want?"  She
glanced at the bedroom door, unwilling to have Mulder hear her.  She
relaxed as she noted that the door was closed and the sounds of sports
casting drifted under the frame.  Mulder would be far too distracted to
notice.
 She began singing softly, words from a song learned long ago.

She sits and she weeps, and she weeps all alone.
In a prison disguised as a bower.
She was bought by a lord for her wealth and her land.
She was sold by her father for power.

Now she who was free as a bird in the wood
Is caged in a prison of gold.
And wing-clipped she mourns for the life she has lost.
A wild swan that no one could hold.

 Scully closed her eyes and was lost in the tale.  Spooky settled onto his

tomach, watching and listening intently.

Below in the hall where her lord sits to drink
He boasts how he conquered a bride
"Just a touch of the stick." "Did she not run away,
As she did as a child?"  "Oh, she tried.

But I was prepared for her tricks You have seen. 
I've no forest, just croplands and fields.
All my horses are guarded, my sentries alert
And 'gainst elf magic, cold iron shields.

Though we caught her before she was out of the gate,
And I taught her to never try more,
What I get I will hold!" He was raising his cup
When a sentry appeared at the door.


 Mulder watched the evening news patiently, wondering what was taking
Scully so long.  When the major news stories had been finished, then the
minor ones, and then the weather, Mulder began to be concerned.  As the
discussion of sports events began, Mulder rose to check on the pair in the
bedroom.  He paused at the threshold, hearing Scully talk. 
 "So?" he heard,  "its music you want?" Mulder grinned despite himself,
wondering what would follow. He had never heard Scully sing and doubted
that she had much of a knack for it. As the tune began, he was surprised
to discover his mistake.  Fearing that his entrance would put an end to
the performance, he stood with his ear pressed to the doorjamb and
listened quietly.
 Scully remained unaware of her audience;  while Spooky's eyes drooped,
she sang on.

"There's a mountebank, sir, a magician," he said.
"That for shelter and hope of reward
Says he'll entertain you, sir, and all of your guests."
"Well, is he any good?" asks the Lord.

"Why judge for yourself," cried the mage at the door,
Though whence he came no one could say.
And with that he began to produce wondrous things,
Such marvels their breath stole away.

When at last he was done, they shook off the trance,
And the Lord tossed him gold with a smile.
Saying "Well done, Sir Mage. Would my lady were here,

ut she finds evening gatherings a trial."

 Mulder listened intently, sensing the emotion underlying the words but
uncertain as to how to interpret it.  He'd never heard the song before,
but it was obviously quite familiar to Scully.  As he absorbed every word,
she sang on.

"Good my Lord," said the mage, with a low humble bow,
Though his eyes were not humble at all,
"I pledge in the morning before I depart
In the meadow in front of your hall,

I will show you more wonders than you have yet seen
Bid your lady come watch if she will."
"She will come!" said the Lord, "I'll escort her myself."
Though the mage smiled, his eyes were cold still.

Came the morning assembled in front of the hall
Were all that could get leave to be.
And the Lord and his Lady, his grip on her arm
Leaving bruises where no one could see.

 Mulder winced at the pain he could hear in Scully's voice, wondering what
haunted her past that helped her empathize so clearly with the young
woman's plight.  He held his breath as he awaited the progression of the
plot.

And the mage moved his hands, and the crowd hushed its noise.
Each one staring as hard as he could.
And at last, she looked up, and he gestured once more,
And the people froze still where they stood.

Now he walked to the lady, a smile on his lips,
And a tenderer smile in his eyes.
And he took both her hands, and he said, "You are free,
What, do you find this a surprise?

You once the friend of the feathered and furred
And found yourself trapped in the net.
You were beloved of the forest's fair folk.
Did you think that your friends would forget?

With cold iron this brute kept the elf lords at bay.
Cold iron stops their magic, it's true.
But they called upon me, who am also their friend.

nd I am as human as you.

Now come!"  And he drew her away from the Lord
Who never more her lord would be.
For the joy in her face he'd have risked ten times worse.
Then he cast the last spell to set them free.

Now as though from deep slumber the people awoke
At his side, then the Lord felt a lack.
Saw his Lady was gone. Well then over his hall
Flew two wild swans, a white and a black.

 Unheeded, tears flowed down Scully's face as she opened her eyes and
witnessed her sleeping dog.  Pleased with the success of her strategy, if
a little off balance at the emotion she had just experienced, Scully did
not immediately react when the door opened.
 Mulder peered in cautiously, uncertain as to what he would find.  He
suspected from the tone of her voice as she sang the last verse that
Scully might be crying.  He met her gaze uncertainly.  She put a finger to
her lips and motioned to the basket.  Puzzled, Mulder glanced down at the
snoozing pup and smiled.
 Scully followed Mulder back into the living room and shut the door gently
so as not to wake Spooky.  She wasn't sure what, if anything, Mulder had
heard, and was hesitant to meet his eyes.
 She settled back down on the couch, Mulder by her side.  He studied her
face, then reached up and gently wiped away her tears.  Scully started
slightly, but did not pull away.
 "I heard you singing," he confessed shyly, glancing away for a moment.
 "I hope it wasn't too horrible," Scully whispered self-deprecatingly.
 "It was beautiful," he countered. "But why are you so sad?"  Scully shook
her head, unable to explain the feelings she'd stirred up.  
 Mulder watched her reactions and put forth his theory.  "You see yourself
in that song, don't you?" an undefinable sadness in his tone.
 After a moment's hesitiation, Scully nodded slowly, still not quite ready
to speak.  She puzzled over the pain she saw reflected in Mulder's eyes.
 He drew a slow careful breath.  "Its me, right?" he asked brusquely. 
Scully froze, not wanting to respond, then nodded again, barely. Mulder
winced.  "Why didn't you say anything," he whispered sadly. "Why didn't
you tell me I was hurting you this way?" he rose, as if wanting to leave.
 Scully frowned in confusion.  "Mulder, I..." she broke off as he whirled
to face her.
 "Is that how I make you feel?" he demanded.  "Trapped?  Caged? 
Restricted from doing what you want to do? How could you let this go on
this way?"
 Scully's jaw dropped as she attempted to assimilate Mulder's reaction

into a logical assessment.
 "Do you think I'm foolish?" he asked plaintively.  "Did you think I
wouldn't recognize myself as the Lord?"
 Finally, Scully understood and, for lack of a more logical reaction,
laughed. Mulder stared at her in disbelief as her body was wracked with
giggles.  He did not know how to interpret this behavior, except as signs
of Scully cracking altogether.
 "I think I should go," he said, with as much quiet dignity as he could
muster over the sound of her laughter. 
 Scully sobered quickly, realizing that Mulder really would attempt to
leave despite the foot and a half of accumulation outside.  She pulled
herself together and called out, "Mulder wait."
 He held himself stone-still at the door, waiting, thought he knew not
what for.
 She took a deep breath.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to laugh.  Its
just..your reaction was not what I expected."
 He turned a look of disbelief on her and she decided that more
explanation might well be in order, reluctant as she was to offer it.
 "Umm...you're not the Lord, Mulder," she paused to look him directly in
the eyes, to be certain he was paying attention. "You're the Mage," she
barely whispered.
 Mulder felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest.  He wasn't
imprisoning her.  He was the Mage. He was the Mage? Mulder took a long
moment to interpret the significance of this role. He saw the fear on her
face and realized that she had meant the statement exactly the way it had
sounded.  
 "So, I guess that makes the Lone Gunmen the elves?" he joked lightly.
 The relieved smile on her face told him that she was glad he had taken
the humorous approach.  Neither was sure they were ready to handle the
alternative.  "Why don't you take off your coat and stay awhile," she
invited cheerfully, noting that Mulder was still standing next to the door
as if he were about to leave.
 "Ahh...good idea," Mulder mumbled, removing his coat once again.
 The two stood there in awkward silence for a minute, then, without
speaking, headed to the kitchen for an evening snack.

 Settled in to watch Letterman, Mulder and Scully sat silent, neither
knowing what to say.  The bad jokes and cheesy banter on Letterman soon
filled the gap, allowing them to loosen up in each other's presence.  By
the first commercial break they were trading witticisms about Letterman
and the band just like always.
 Mulder found that he was surprisingly tired considering how little work
he'd actually done that day.  As Scully noticed him drifting off, she
slipped off the couch and settled in a chair, allowing Mulder to stretch
out more completely.  When she saw Mulder's length covering the entire

ouch, with his knees to his feet hanging over the edge, she couldn't
contain a giggle.
 Mulder started sleepily. "Wha?" he muttered, trying to figure out why his
normally comfortable couch felt so strange.  He quickly assimilated the
environment and realized where he was.  "Did you have this couch made
especially short on purpose?" he inquired dryly.
 "Yup," Scully responded brightly.  "Just to annoy you."
 Mulder shot her a dirty look as he sat back up, way too uncomfortable to
sleep. "Suggestions?" he asked.  
 Scully frowned thoughtfully.  "I don't know," she confessed.  "The last
time you were here you slept on my bed..." she broke off as she saw the
leer on Mulder's face. "And I slept on the couch," she concluded quickly,
suppressing a grin at his open disappointment.
 "Well," he said generously. "I'm willing to share the bed with you this
time." He carefully schooled his expression not to reveal how desirable he
thought this setup would be.
 Scully rolled her eyes and ignored his comments.  "Maybe you would be
more comfortable if you made a bed on the floor?" she offered.  "You could
take the pillows off the couch and lay them end to end."
 A quick examination of the available floor space left Mulder suspicious
of this idea.  "Unless I actually sleep under the Christmas tree, I don't
see how there could be enough room for that."
 Shrugging, Scully observed, "Sleeping under the tree wouldn't be that
bad. It would be like a nice trip to the forest."
 Wincing at the recognition of his own words, Mulder decided to give the
idea a chance.  He was surprised to discover that there was plenty of
space under the tree to make his bed.  "More comfortable than a futon," he
said with a smile.
 Scully grinned.  "Glad to hear it.  Night, Mulder."  She headed into her
room to finally get some sleep. As she stretched out on her bed, she tried
not to think about how easy it would have been to let him sleep with her. 
She told herself that they were both mature enough to sleep in the same
bed without anything happening.  But she knew it wasn't true.  She knew if
she invited Fox Mulder into her bed that there would be no sleep for
either of them.  What scared her was how much she wanted to invite him in
anyway.
 Mulder lay on his back, staring into the branches of the tree.  He tried
not to think about what Scully was doing right then, tried not to imagine
her undressing and getting ready for bed, but it was difficult.  I
shouldn't be here, he thought. What if I have one of those dreams about
her and she hears me? he wondered. He sighed and flipped over onto his
side, staring into space until he drifted off.

 **CRASH**
Scully jumped out of bed at the sound and grabbed her gun, not even

pausing to grab a robe as she dashed into the living room.  She could make
out moving shaped, but  could not interpret what she was looking at.
"Who's there?" she called out firmly.
 "Whoh, Scully, it's just me, Mulder," he called out.  
 "What's going on?" she asked in confusion, putting her gun on the table. 
She walked over to examine the problem and found Mulder trapped under the
dying Christmas tree.  "What exactly did you do?" she asked, careful not
to laugh just yet.
 Mulder sighed irritably.  "I rolled into the tree, I guess, and it
attacked me," he complained.  "My leg is caught."
 Scully flicked on a lamp so she could see the situation more clearly. 
Sure enough, Mulder appeared to have knocked the tree over in his sleep
and it had landed directly on top of him. "Hang on," she said.
 She knelt next to Mulder and got a good grip on the tree. Slowly, she
lifted it back into position, double-checking to be certain it wasn't
about to fall again.  When she was satisfied, she turned her attention
back to a sheepish-looking Mulder.
 "Let me see your leg," she commanded.
 "I'm fine," he rejoined sulkily.
 "Mulder, let me see your leg," she repeated, staring him down.  She
crouched down next to him and began checking his leg over, feeling up and
down the thigh and shin to see if anything was broken.  She reminded
herself to maintain a professional demeanor.
 Mulder was careful not to say or do anything while she was examining him,
but he could not keep his heart from pumping a little faster and a blush
from rising to his cheeks.  When Scully finished and looked up at him, he
could barely stand to meet her gaze.
 Concluding that there was no serious damage, Scully leaned back slightly
on her heels and studied Mulder's face.  She presumed that he was flushed
from the exertion of trying to lift the tree himself. She was startled to
realize how close they were.  With him sitting up, and her crouching, they
were the same height for once.
 Both parties were so distracted by the nearness of the other, that
neither heard the bark nor processed its significance until after the
fact.  Suddenly, Spooky was behind Scully, pawing at her back and
demanding to know what was going in.  Startled, Scully lost her balance
and fell forward. Mulder reached forward and caught her gently, breaking
her fall by laying her across his chest.
 For a long moment, Scully stayed frozen in that position, enjoying the
closeness though she knew she ought to move away.  She pushed herself
partially up, so that was just over Mulder's head. "Thanks," she said
softly.
 Mulder stared at her, unable to answer, unable to believe that she was
this close.  Don't just sit there, he thought to himself, do something.
But he didn't have the nerve.

For a second Scully thought he might kiss her (and she knew that she'd
let him) but then he didn't move.  Maybe she had misjudged the situation
after all, projecting her desires onto him.  She shifted position to give
her leverage to sit up and then paused, as she noticed something
unexpected.
 Scully looked at Mulder directly, unsure as to what to do about the
hardness pressing against her leg.  When he saw from the look she gave him
that she'd noticed, he was embarassed.  Scully easily read his
embarassment, but she saw something more in his gaze as well: desire.
 Quickly, before she could think about her decision and change her mind,
Scully leaned forward and pressed her lips against Mulder's.  
 At first, she was afraid she'd made a mistake, as there was no response
at all.  She started to pull back, already worried about what to do next,
when Mulder snapped out of his fear and gave in to his desire.  He wrapped
his arms tightly around Scully and drew her back against him. His mouth
covered hers easily, his tongue seeking entrance boldly.
 Scully could not keep from moaning as she opened her mouth to him,
wallowing in the sensation of his tongue stroking hers.  She ran her hands
up and down his body eagerly, reaching under his t-shirt to feel the hard
muscles beneath.
 Mulder's mind was spinning as he absorbed the feeling of Scully kissing
him, touching him, even wanting him.  He could not believe that this
wasn't just another dream.  He needed to feel her skin pressed against
his.  Eagerly he slipped his hands under the front of her shirt, pleased
that he wouldn't have to struggle with removing her bra.   His fingers
lightly encircled her nipples, bringing them to taut peaks.
 Scully had managed to slip Mulder's shirt over his head, barely
interrupting their deep and exciting kisses.  She ran her hands over his
chest and stomach, then they drifted lower onto his hips, pushing down his
loose pants and shorts in one smooth motion.
 Mulder gasped as he felt  her take his hardness in one hand and explore
it tenderly.  He swiftly removed her shirt and began to suckle her
breasts, drawing moans of delight.Since his hands were now free to
continue their examination, he gently cupped her bottom and pulled her
tightly against his erection, wanting her to feel just how much he wanted
her.
 Scully rocked against him, wanting to feel him inside of her. She reached
down and removed her own bottoms as a delighted Mulder looked on. "Should
we move to the bedroom?" he asked softly, running his fingers over her
thighs.
 "No," she gasped.  "We are not going anywere.  Right here, right now, I
want you."
 Her words stirred something in Mulder, who responded promptly.  He
flipped them over so that she lay on the bed of cushions and he was above
her.  As he positioned himself to enter her, Scully put a gentle hand on

is chest. "Protection?" she inquired cautiously, wondering if she would
have the strength to refuse him if he didn't have any.
 Mulder bit his bottom lip in thought.  It had been a long time since he
had bothered to carry any with him.  Then he smiled as a thought struck. 
He reached carefully up into the tree branches and pulled down a small red
square of plastic, which he triumphantly ripped upon and presented to
Scully for inspection. "Look at that, I am a mage."  He silently noted
that it was, in fact, red.
 She chuckled low in her throat as she slid it over his throbbing manhood.
 "I'll have to remember to send Frohike and the other elves a thank you
note," she observed.
 "Later, I hope," Mulder countered, as he began to thrust his way gently
inside her warmth.  
 There was no more talk as the two quickly established a rhythm to match
their ever-rising passions.  It had been so long for both of them, it was
unsurprising that neither was able to last for long.  Scully dug her nails
into Mulder's back as she felt the excitement building in her, almost
drawing blood as she finally released with a gasp of delight.
 Mulder, thrilled by the feel of Scully's orgasm, was unable to hold out
himself more than a few more seconds.  Then, he exploded into a world of
pleasure unmatched by any experience he'd ever had.  As he came back to
reality, he noticed Scully staring past him, into the Christmas tree.
"What?" he asked softly.
 She grinned shyly.  "I was just thinking how glad I was that I decided to
keep my tree up a little longer this year."
 Mulder laughed. "Me too.  As far as I'm concerned, you should never take
it down."  He looked at her affectionately, then took a deep breath.
"Scully, I...ummm"  even after this, he still didn't know how to say it.
 "Yes, Mulder?" she asked, though she suspected she knew what he wanted to
say.  The exact same thing that she had on her mind.
 "I ....wondered if we could move to the bedroom for the rest of the
night.  These pine needles are killing me."  That wasn't what he'd meant
to say.  What was the matter with him?
 Scully gave him a long look, then smiled at him. "Sure thing, Mulder. And
you know what?"
 "What?"
 "I love you too."  She watched the astonished, then relieved looks that
passed over Mulder's face.  Then she squealed as he scooped her up in his
arms and carried her into the bedroom.
 Mulder never told her that he loved her that night, but Scully wasn't
worried.  They had forever after all.