Title: Sweet and Sour Frustration
Author: Gina Rain
Category: MSR, UST, SA, H
Rating: R (mostly language)
Spoilers: Small (blink and you'll miss) for 
Millenium and Amor Fati
Feedback: ginarain@aol.com
Archive: Would be lovely
Summary: They have survived it all. But, can Mulder 
and Scully survive 6 hours on a smelly southbound 
bus in the middle of a snowstorm? Warning: Deep 
thought and spooning ensue.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Thank you, O Great Creators, 
CC and 1013. I partake of the bounty of your 
collective imagination.
Dedicated to: The great Christina, who is really 
taking this rusty old writer and giving her the 
beta-equivalent of the WD40 that she so desperately 
needs. Thank you so very, very much!


She navigated her body back down the aisle, 
wrinkling her nose in disgust. The bus now reeked 
of vomit. That was enough to qualify it for 
Scully's growing list of trips from hell. Mulder's 
head was leaning against the window and he was 
half-asleep in the brief time it took her to 
relieve herself and return. The seven other 
passengers, with the exception of the little girl 
who had apparently just thrown up in the rest room, 
were asleep.  She turned and went back in the 
direction of the child. Up close, she wasn't as 
young as she initially thought. She was probably 
about 12 or so. Still, she was alone and ill.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," the girl said, turning a paler shade of 
green and facing toward the window. 

"I'm a doctor, if that helps any."

"No. I just get a little carsick sometimes. I'm 
fine." 

How could she argue with the very same declaration 
that frequently poured forth from her own lips? 
This girl didn't want sympathy. She wanted to take 
pride in her independence--however misguided that 
desire was. Scully left the younger version of 
herself and went back to Mulder.

His legs were already pretty cramped and hanging at 
odd angles over her abandoned seat. She didn't have 
the heart to wake him. She took the seat directly 
behind him instead. 

The snow was still falling heavily and steadily. It 
was interesting to be leaving the driving to 
someone else under these conditions. The dead of 
night was brightened by the eerie glow of the 
falling snow, as the bus almost soundlessly tracked 
over the soft powder. She willed herself to relax. 
It wasn't easy. She would need a few days. Maybe 
just the holiday weekend--maybe more. "Unless it's 
da end of duh whole freakin' world--I don' wanna 
hear abow dit," as their newfound friend, Tony, 
might say.

She smiled.

 Mulder would take it personally. He would consider 
her need to be away from the x-files as a need to 
be away from him. What else was new? That was part 
of the reason her frustration level was now too 
high to handle. Nothing was new. Personally and 
professionally, it all boiled down to more of the 
same.  In between earth shattering cases, the FBI 
still sent them on wild goose chases whose sole 
purpose seemed to be to provide yet another answer 
to the riddle: when is an x-file not an x-file? 

"Hey." His face appeared in the tiny space between 
the window and his seat back. "What are you doing 
back there all by yourself?" 

Why did his voice have to be so sexy when he was 
half-asleep? What would it sound like with the 
lights completely off--in the stillness of her 
bedroom? What would it sound like first thing in 
the morning after a long night of lovemaking? 
Questions kept running in and out of her mind--
chasing the other questions already there. No 
answers. Never any answers. It was nice to know her 
frustration was multi-dimensional and complex. She 
did so enjoy being an overachiever.

"You need your leg room, Mulder. You're just too 
tall."  She made it sound light and teasing.

"Ummmm. And you are just the right size for a bus 
trip. Just the right size." He smiled softly. She 
forced herself not to travel in any other direction 
with that statement. He didn't mean anything by it. 
It was just Mulder being Mulder. Nothing to get 
excited about.

"No one is the right size for a bus trip."

He smiled again. His eyelids were already leaning 
heavily toward the closed position. She leaned 
forward a bit and whispered.

"Good night, Mulder. I'll wake you when we hit DC."

He mumbled something unintelligible and was out. 
She was still wide-awake.

No one was the right size for a long bus ride. But, 
they wouldn't be on the bus if she hadn't insisted 
on going home tonight. They would be stranded in 
ugly adjoining motel rooms in  New York. 

Mulder had seemed content with that prospect. 
Although, in all honesty, he probably needed the 
rest after sliding into the Bronx River--face 
first. Designer shoes just didn't have the right 
traction for a foot chase on a snowy riverbank. His 
fall, however, did precipitate the adrenaline rush 
Scully needed to propel herself at the suspect and 
haul his ass over to the local police. The looks on 
the beefy cops' faces were priceless. She was sure 
that the fact that a petite redhead caught their 
"perp" would not make it back to their dinner table 
conversations. But, at that moment, she didn't 
care. What she cared about was the man in front of 
her: icy, drenched and carefully picking a slimy, 
used condom and other unidentified paraphernalia 
off of his designer duds. And, duds they now were.

"God, Mulder. Are you all right?"

"Peachy, Scully. And, you?"

She grabbed his hand and helped yank him further up 
the semi-steep incline where another patrol car 
stood waiting. They hadn't rented a car, since 
getting around in the city was, according to 
Detective Anthony Rubistello, "a real bitch." He 
had been their chauffeur in the three days they 
were there. "Tony" was already holding up what 
looked like a horse blanket. As it was draped over 
Mulder's shoulders, Scully caught Mulder giving her 
a strange half-shrug and a sweet smile. "Yes, 
Mulder. My arms would do a better job than the 
blanket," she thought. She shook her head. He was 
probably just smiling at her to let her know he was 
going to be fine. Damned imagination. 

Within an hour and a half, they had their newest 
answer to the riddle. No ritualistic overtones. No 
alien-induced actions. Just some sick fuck who 
liked eating people but was enough of a gentleman 
to bury the bones afterwards. When was an x-file 
not an x-file? When it was simply a disgusting 
little case. When no one else wanted to touch it, 
they suddenly referenced possible werewolves, 
lights in the sky, unexplained somethings-or-other, 
and it was time for the fearless duo to emerge from 
the darkness of the basement to go traipsing 
wherever ...to solve...whatever. 

"With all due respect, sir," Scully had said to 
Skinner when they were initially handed the 
assignment. "This case is crap." That earned her 
twin looks of astonishment from the men in the 
room. She would not miss the pleasure of telling 
him, "I told you so," after her break.

Mulder might be content traipsing around the world 
like a bloodhound with an olfactory disorder--
hoping to stumble on something that fit into his 
life's work. She was not. She was at a point where 
she wanted--needed--to be more selective. For her 
own self-worth and sanity.


While Mulder went to the room to shower, Scully ran 
back out to the car and asked Tony to take her to a 
pharmacy.  They didn't drive in silence for long. 
Tony liked to talk.

"He's a nice guy--Mulder."

"Yes, he is."

"Didn't even have a cow over that suit of his. 
That's good for shit, now."

She smiled. It sure was. Poor Mulder.

Tony broke the companionable silence once again.

"You know, I kind of like snow. Makes coming home 
even better. Although, coming home is always great. 
People wouldn't think it but this is a great place 
to live. I've lived in the same neighborhood all my 
life. Go to bed smelling the bread baking down at 
the corner bakery. Ladies starting Sunday dinner  
even before Church. It's great. This place is 
alive. It has character. And--it is what it is. You 
know where you stand--always. Even when you don't 
want to know, sometimes."

"That sounds nice," she said. 

Tony gave a short laugh. 

"It is nice. But, probably not for you and Agent 
Mulder. You're used to--I don't know. I live kind 
of a simple life, you know? Aside from the job, 
where I can see all kinds of weird things--the rest 
of my life is family and friends. I still walk 
through that door after 10 years of marriage and 
love seeing my Theresa. Love playing with my kids."

"I think that's a very nice life, Tony. I really 
do." And she did. But, he was right--it wasn't a 
life for her. Her job wasn't part of her life. It 
was her life. The "rest of her life" didn't seem to 
exist. The only one she could ever want to "come 
home to" was "home"--at work. Other people had 
lives. She had a destiny.  She let Tony chatter on 
as she sighed and continued to look out of the 
window.

Scully walked into Mulder's room with and 
ophthalmoscope and a Rite-Aid bag, while he was 
still showering. She could imagine him following 
her orders and getting every single bit of grime 
off of every single, solitary place he could reach. 
It was sad that she derived joy only  from her 
imagination, while the real man was so near. 

Mulder emerged from the bathroom with a towel 
draped around his waist and another roughly 
scrubbing at his wet hair. Scully could not tear 
her eyes from him. He truly was magnificent. Even 
after all this time, the pull toward him was as 
strong as the first time she experienced it. Maybe 
stronger.  She cursed whatever strength of spirit 
and obvious weakness of mind she possessed that 
kept her from giving in to it.  He stopped in mid-
stride when he realized she was there.

"Scully? What are you doing here?"

She waved the instrument in her hand." I have to 
examine your eyes. I just want to check for 
irritation. We should have had an eye wash applied 
immediately after, but I was so happy when you told 
me you hadn't swallowed any water, I forgot about 
your eyes." As if that were even possible.

He plopped himself down on his bed and put down the 
hair-drying towel. 

Like a dutiful patient, he looked straight ahead. 
"Ok, Doc. I'm all yours."

Shit. Why couldn't that be true? Or, why couldn't 
it be true in the way she wanted?

She stood between his legs, trying desperately not 
to look down--in case his towel rode up at all. She 
bent over him. He had obviously brushed his teeth. 
All minty fresh. Heated mint. She could never be an 
optometrist, she decided. How could they stand 
being this close to living, breathing people all 
day long? Right eye clear, she moved over the left. 
There appeared to be some irritation and she moved 
just a bit closer. She moved the device this way 
and that and focused her entire attention on 
Mulder's eye until she felt something on her lips. 
Just the lightest of whispery soft touches. So 
light that she realized that she wasn't sure if it 
was a kiss, or just the workings of an over-active 
wishful thinking component in her mind.

She moved quickly away from him. His face revealed 
absolutely nothing. His towel was threatening to 
reveal quite a bit, if he moved in any direction 
quickly. 

"Mulder, I bought you some eye wash. I need you to 
go in the bathroom and just use a liberal amount in 
both your eyes. I think they'll be fine, but I do 
see a bit of irritation in your left eye, and it 
would be best if you just flushed them with the 
wash."

"Oh, okay." He got up and half of the towel stuck 
to his right hip. A more than generous view of his 
thigh was in plain sight.

"Mulder," she warned, eyeing his towel.

"It's not like you haven't seen it all before, 
Scully. Jeez. Get a grip." 

A couple of days in the Bronx and he was already 
picking up the lingo. Amazing.

He smirked and went into the bathroom. Get a grip. 
She did need to get a grip. But, on what? On him or 
on her own self control? Tony had said he liked 
knowing where he stood. She never knew where she 
stood. From one day to the next...on the job, and 
off. She suddenly hated motels. She hated the 
walls, the moldy bathtubs, the stale-smelling 
bedspreads. She needed to be in her home. She 
needed to be in her home now. She needed to be away 
from Mulder. Away from his phantom lips and 
amazingly mobile towel. The sad part was if that 
towel had fallen off, she knew what he would have 
said. If she were the one wearing the towel, and it 
had fallen off, she still knew what kind of a joke 
he would have used to make the entire situation 
diffuse into small components that had less weight 
than her dream kiss. There--that was confirmation. 
She was obsessing over something that didn't even 
happen. It was time for a rest. Time to be alone in 
her apartment doing Dana-type things. She knew 
where she stood there. She stood alone, but it was 
stable. It was non-upsetting. She needed that right 
now.

She picked up the phone and dialed the airport. 
They were closing. Picked up and dialed the rails--
running, but extremely crowded due to the upcoming 
airport closing. Buses.  They were running and not 
crowded. Not too many people were that desperate 
yet. Just be prepared to be a little more than the 
5 1/2 hours that the trip normally took. That was 
fine with her.

Mulder came out in boxers, lifting up the edges 
like a girl would lift up her ballet tutu. "Look, 
Mom--I'm decent."

Hardly.

"Put your clothes on, Mulder. We have a bus to 
catch."

"What?"

"In one hour and ten minutes there is a bus to DC. 
We're going to be on it. Come on, we have to call a 
cab to take us to Manhattan, and I have a feeling 
that might be trouble in this weather."

"Scully. You have got to be kidding. I took a swim 
in toxic soup, we've been running around all day 
and now, when we're finally dressed for bed--or 
undressed for bed, you want me to get on a bus, of 
all things? I hate buses."

"Mulder--fine. I don't care. I'm going home. You 
can stay here and get snowed in here for a week. 
I'm leaving." She picked up the phone and dialed 
the front desk, informing them that she would be 
there in five minutes to check out.

He stared at her. She really was leaving.

"Gimme a second. I'll get my clothes on."


And, here they were, she thought wryly. Antarctica 
on a snowcat and DC on a bus. Just for her. What a 
guy. She closed her eyes for a few seconds--
drifting away just enough for things to seem 
slightly fuzzy, but not enough to lose total 
awareness of her surroundings. 

The bus was stopping to pick up passengers. The 
door opened and the heady stench from the bathroom 
wafted down the aisle. The little girls' stoic face 
came to her mind again. She opened her eyes only to 
find that same girl stepping out of the bus and 
into a much older woman's arms. Going to visit 
Grandma. Scully couldn't help but smile. In her 
mind, a chorus of "over the river and through the 
woods" was being played as a soundtrack to the 
perfect scene in front of her. The little girl was 
no longer a humiliated ice princess. She was once 
again a child with a tummy ache who would be given 
chicken soup and toast. All the harshness of the 
world and the sour faces of the fellow passengers 
would fade away. No more role-playing.  She could 
be herself. Happy endings. Scully loved happy 
endings.

Two other passengers left the bus at this station 
and Scully continued to look out of the window as 
two more were about to enter. DC was the next stop 
but was still a good two hours away. A slight young 
man hobbled aboard--defying some bizarre law of 
gravity with the weight of his backpack. The second 
boarding passenger was a blond in her mid-twenties 
who stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes hit 
Mulder's form. In spite of the fact that a good 
forty seats were empty, she decided she needed to 
sit on the one his legs were occupying. Bitch.

"Excuse me," she said in an attempt to be both 
seductive and loud enough to wake the sleeping 
Mulder. "Is this seat taken?" Mulder started awake 
as her hand touched his knee.

"Um--yes, actually. My wife--is around here 
somewhere." He turned to his left and right, then 
finally to the space between the seats where he 
knew he'd find her. "There you are," he gently 
said, as his eyes had that "please go along with 
this--even if you hate the idea--I've got a female 
barracuda at 12 o'clock and apparently she's 
decided I'm her guppy" look. 

"I'm here, honey," Scully said, getting to her 
feet. "You fell asleep and I didn't want to be an 
inhumane beast and wake you." She swept her eyes 
over the blonde who withered and slid what was left 
of her five foot ten inch frame into a seat toward 
the back of the bus. Scully took the seat next to 
Mulder's.

"Your wife, huh?"

"Do I have to get down on my knees and beg your 
forgiveness for that one?"

"No."

"Good. "

No explanation was requested. No explanation was 
forthcoming. The driver had opened the back window 
and applied Lysol after the girl disembarked. 
Scully wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.
 
"Did you get some sleep, Scully?" She caught him 
glancing down at her self-protective pose.

"No. I just listened to you snoring for a while."

"Ummm. The excitement must have been overwhelming."

"It was strangely relaxing." She leaned forward and 
arched her back a bit.  Cold and sore--nice 
combination.

"Stiff, huh?"

"My back hurts, my legs hurt, my behind hurts, my 
everything hurts."

"What should I massage first?"

She smiled softly and leaned back in the seat. 
Harmless flirting. Maybe if she stuck a label on 
everything, it would all take on its proper 
perspective again. The bus driver went back, closed 
the window, turned up the heat and resumed his 
driving. There was just something about riding on a 
bus that made her feel unsettled and melancholy 
somehow. Everything that was wrong in her life--or, 
more accurately, everything that wasn't quite as 
"right" as it could be, seemed to be just under the 
surface, ready to emerge. She felt exhausted 
holding it all back. She felt "antsy." She wanted 
to be in that safe place "little Scully" was in now 
and just be herself--howl at the moon if she 
wanted, curl up in a little ball if she wanted, and 
have someone's unconditional love and acceptance to 
do either.

"We should be home in another couple of hours, " he 
said.

She said nothing in response.

"Did you get over your--whatever that was--about 
the Bronx?"

"It wasn't about the Bronx, Mulder. There was 
nothing wrong with the Bronx."

"Then what was it?"

"I just need some down time. Just these next three 
or four days to not be on the x-files. To actually 
take the holiday weekend--and maybe a few days 
more. To not be anything except me--doing normal 
everyday people types of things."

"A few days more?" That was definitely the panicked 
voice. "You're that sick of all of it?"

"No.  Just a bit tired and a little burnt out. I 
need a small break. I need to re-group," She 
sounded like a seminar on dealing with office 
stress. She'd like to go to one of those, she 
thought with a twisted sense of humor. She'd like 
nothing more than to bring a few flukeman 
references into the conversation when someone 
bitched about the brand of coffee in the office 
coffeemaker. "I just want my break to start now.  
It can't start in a motel room while I'm still in 
work mode. That's all," she finished softly.

He shifted uneasily in his seat and moved his body 
in the direction of the window. 

"You will be happy to know that the entire left 
side of my tushy is entirely asleep."

"Did I bore it that much?"

He gave a short laugh.

"That was rather funny, Scully."

"See, I can be funny if I'm on a break."

She looked over at him--such a large, gangly man 
mushed up in the corner of a too-small-for-him bus 
seat. He was leaning away from her, with his entire 
weight resting on his right hip and his numb left 
side right before her in firm, solid splendor. She 
turned in his direction and leaned a bit over him. 
Her nether regions were numb as well and she would 
love it if Mulder put actions to his words and 
massaged her.  "Just do it,"she told herself, 
silencing the inner voices before they even began 
their protests. "Do what you want. You're his 
'wife,' for heaven's sake," She had an almost 
irresistible urge to giggle. He was always so 
careful with her, in his own way. A whole lot of 
talk, but completely and totally respectful in 
every single action. There weren't too many men out 
there like that. She smiled softly. She really 
shouldn't. It would shock the hell out of him if 
she did. But, she wanted to--for herself and for 
him. She was tired of fighting every thought and 
feeling. She put her hand out and softly and slowly 
began to rub the left side of his behind. She felt 
him stiffen beneath her touch.

"Scully?"

"No one else has taken my place in the last moment 
or so."

"You are aware, aren't you, that your hand is on my 
ass?"

"Yes, I am aware of it."

"Oh."

She continued to rub him, with a bit more pressure, 
but he did not relax.

"Relax, Mulder. I'm a doctor." 

"You massage a lot of stiffs?"

She let out a small laugh before she could help 
herself. She looked over and saw the edges of his 
ears turn pink. 

"Interesting choice of words there, Mulder." The 
pink hue deepened a bit.

"Do you want me to apologize?" She asked him 
softly.

"No. That won't be--necessary." He didn't seem to 
be enjoying this. Maybe it was too much for a bus 
ride. 

She stopped her ministrations and leaned completely 
against him, placing her head on his back and her 
hand curving lightly around his upper thigh. It 
just was a place her hand naturally came to rest, 
she told herself. It was a tad short of an innocent 
place to rest against him, and a tad short of being 
an indecent place to rest against him. He could 
take the gesture any way he wanted to. She just 
wanted to lean against him for a while. Feel his 
body. Feel his warmth. Experience a "moment."

"Scully?" 

She sighed. He had a habit of complicating things.

"Yes, Mulder--I am aware of the placement of my 
hand."

"Oooh--kay." he said.

"Scully?"

"What Mulder?" This time, her tone did not hide the 
impatience she was feeling. 

"Well, I just am--confused."

Shit. Confused sounded about right. The guy didn't 
have a fucking clue. Or, maybe she didn't. Try to 
be spontaneous, she thought. Try to make the first 
move and stick to it. That'll teach you. Or, maybe 
there wasn't a first move to be made. Maybe this 
was just a truly, truly deep friendship and never 
destined to be anything more at all.  Touchstone, 
my ass. Happy New Year, my ass. This was just a 
year--like every other year before it. Like every 
year ahead of it. Too much of nothing much at all.

She removed her hand abruptly and went back to the 
seat behind him, leaning her head against the cold 
window. Now she was "little Scully."  Sick at 
heart, humiliated and a bit petulant. She didn't 
care. She had a right.

He sat up and looked completely lost.

"Scully?" He looked at her through their seats.

"Shut up, Mulder."

"What did I do?"

"Nothing. Just go back to sleep, okay?" She closed 
her eyes tightly and tried to relax. It was nothing 
she was doing or not doing. Maybe what you saw with 
Mulder is what you got. He hadn't had that much 
trouble telling her what her friendship meant to 
him. She was the one who went a step further and 
equated it with love. With desire. Maybe he didn't 
give anymore because there was nothing left to 
give. He had had a quest--and that was the sum 
total of his life. No room for anything else. Or 
maybe just no room for her. Not in that way. She 
squeezed her eyes shut tighter--trying to back any 
tear drops that even dared to near the surface of 
her eyelids. 


She felt a hand snake around her waist and a head 
lean on her shoulder. His warm breath caressed her 
neck.

"Mulder?" knowing damned well who was there.

"Present."

"Are you aware," she asked, in her best haughty 
tone, "where your hand is?"

"Very aware, thank you. I'm kind of scared of you, 
or I would return the favor of the butt rub you 
gave me before."

She saw her reflection in the window. It was 
smiling, in spite of itself.

"It was a favor?"

"Yes, it was."

"You didn't seem all that happy about it, at the 
time."

"I'm an ass...no pun intended."

"Sometimes." She agreed. "I thought you were 
'confused' as well. "

He sighed into her neck, sending a slight shiver 
through her. 

When he spoke again, it was in quiet and measured 
tones.

"Can you blame me? You have no reaction to my kiss. 
No--scratch that. You immediately want to leave 
town after it, and then a few short hours later 
you're playing with my ass and circumnavigating my 
crotch. In a bus. In public."

"So you did kiss me?" 

"You weren't sure? I must be slipping."

"Well, applying a little pressure during a kiss 
might help, Mulder."

"Agent Scully teaches me to kiss. Lesson 405. I 
might just have to flunk so I can repeat the 
course."
He smiled. "I didn't want to be presumptuous, 
Scully. Look, I know how frustrated you've been. I 
can't change the x-files. They are--whatever--they 
are. What I can do--what I don't do often enough, 
is tell you how happy I am that you've come with me 
on this--wild ride. That you stay with me, in spite 
of everything." 

She closed her eyes again. She had to redouble her 
efforts at pushing back those wayward tears. Part 
of her hated when he was so nice to her. She felt 
him not so subtly sniffing her hair.

"Mulder? You don't have to--why are you doing 
this?" Might as well nip this in the bud.

"Doing what?"

"This. This spooning.  This sniffing. I mean, I'm a 
big girl. I took a chance. It didn't work. You 
don't have to give me a--mercy snuggle."

He gave a short, rather loud laugh. 

"Mercy snuggle, Scully? Remember, I was the one who 
kissed you earlier. Even if it barely registered."

"Well, how do I know what that kiss meant? It could 
be because of the proximity of our bodies during 
the eye examination, or a gesture of friendship. 
Oh, God. That's what this is, isn't it? A gesture 
of friendship?" The words were out before she could 
censor herself.  She felt like hiding her head 
somewhere and coming out when they were both too 
old to remember her folly.

"Good friendship." A light touch of his lips on the 
tender flesh of her neck accompanied his 
affirmation. The man knew what he was doing in the 
barely-there kiss department, she thought. "The 
best of friendships." He applied more pressure and 
kept his lips on her neck longer. Scully closed her 
eyes, on the verge of drifting off. These were 
nice, maybe slightly overly friendly gestures. 
Comforting. Loving. If that's all it was, she'd 
have to settle. It wasn't so bad, she thought, her 
resistance slipping away. A few loving moments here 
and there would have to keep her. She lost a bit of 
the sleepy haze as she felt the tip of his tongue 
lightly taste her flesh. She felt his lips part and 
she gasped as he sucked her flesh between his teeth 
and bit down gently, running his tongue back over 
the victimized skin as he released it. 

"I love friendship," he murmured as he repeated the 
gesture--over and over--each time opening his mouth 
a bit wider and sucking in just a little more of 
her. She could feel his warm, heavy breathing and 
hear an occasional stifled groan. He could show 
remarkable self-restraint when he wanted to, she 
thought.  He lifted his head and brought his soft 
wet mouth to her ear, "We are going to be so good 
together, Scully," he whispered to her. Between the 
vibrations from his words, and his descending mouth 
against the silkiness of her neck, she decided she 
had to put an end to it right then and there before 
she was thrown off the bus for spontaneous lewd 
behavior. She quickly turned in her seat to stop 
him. He was in mid pucker and landed on her 
cheekbone--pretty much giving it the same 
treatment. 

"Mulder," she said, somewhere between a gasp and a 
giggle. "Stop that."

"Not enough pressure, Teach? Give me another 
chance. I'm good at make-out exams. Oops--make-up 
exams." 

She pushed her hands on his chest, pushing him away 
from her with a big grin on her face. "You are such 
an idiot sometimes."

"No. The theme of the evening is the ass. I am such 
an ass sometimes." 

"OK. I'll go along with that." 

He leaned back in his seat and sighed. "Oh, Scully, 
Scully," he said in a very melodramatic way, then 
changed gears and got serious. "I'm not good at--
whatever we have here. I've just had no experience 
with it.  At work, I trust and believe in your 
strength. I consider you much stronger, in many 
ways, than I am. But, with this--I'm just lousy at 
it. And, I keep thinking of everything I've ever 
cared about. How it all gets taken away. So, I'm 
not about to get greedy and have that happen with 
you.  See that snow out there? How each tiny 
snowflake is a miracle?  If you get greedy and 
touch one, it melts. I guess in some warped way, I 
think of you that way."

She gave a small laugh. 

"You're comparing me to slush, Mulder?"

"Hey--work with me here. I told you I'm not good at 
this. That was sweet-talk, Scully. Didn't you get 
shivers? Didn't you just want to grab me and pull 
me into the rest room with you for the rest of the 
trip?"

"You haven't seen the rest room, Mulder. We'd die 
of suffocation."

"Ah, but what a way to go." 

The bus driver made an announcement. "Folks--we'll 
be arriving in DC in about 10 minutes. Last stop. 
Get home, get warm and thank you for traveling with 
Greyhound."

"Last stop, Scully. Want to share a cab?"

"Yes."

"Good. A few less minutes to miss you during this 
horrible long weekend." Finally, he seemed serious 
again. Not flirty. Just--sad.

She looked him in the eye. She started the internal 
debate. Whose turn was it to make the first move 
this time? Why did this have to be an issue? Why 
was there always so much pressure between the two 
of them? She saw him smile. She knew he knew what 
she was thinking about.

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

She saw him swallowing a bit harder than usual.  He 
reached out and lightly ran his finger down her 
already bruising neck. "I'd like to--try. I'd like 
to try and be better at this. " He fumbled.

She looked into his eyes. She knew it wasn't 
possible, but it seemed as if they were holding 
their breath. "I'd like to, too." She smiled 
softly. "For one thing, I'd like to show you that 
there are differences between females and 
snowflakes. And--" she just looked at him. She 
didn't have to say anything cute or funny. They had 
both said what was important. They wanted to try. 
They wanted to begin. 

She gave him a whisper soft kiss on the lips. For 
this moment, at this time, in this place, it was 
just the right amount of pressure.

The End