Soft and Warm
By Christine Leigh

Summary: Mulder and Scully contemplate a happy new year.
Rating: PG
Category: V, MSR
Spoilers: Takes place following the events of How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, but there aren't any spoilers.

December 27, 1998
2:30 a.m.

"So Scully, what do you think about a short vacation? I think we deserve it, and Hawaii or somewhere else lush and without snow for New Year's would be great, don't you think?"

No, I don't think. I can't say so just now, because he's holding me. His skin is unbelievably soft. Of all the things I'd ever imagined about Mulder, this came as the biggest surprise. His skin - it's his second-best physical attribute. This is what I've dreamed of all my life - since I was around thirteen. And for the past five years the dream has had his face, not to mention his body, attached. We're in my bed and the apartment is so cosy and warm, with the fire from the last log he tossed on around one just now fading. I left the tree on, so that we can see the glow from the lights in the bedroom. This scenario - Christmas time in bed with Mulder, and the snow falling quietly outside, is something I don't want to let go. I want to freeze time and stay here for at least another two months.

Most people I know prefer the warm weather, even at Christmas time. Given their choice they'd rather be on a beach than say, in a cabin or any other dwelling in some sub-zero region. Not me, I love the cold. Especially at Christmas time. When we lived in San Diego, I was the only one in the family who wasn't thrilled to have all that unseasonable sunshine. And despite everything else that was happening at this time last year when I was once again there for Christmas, I still remember hating the 75-degree sun in December. Mulder, on the other hand, likes it warm. That beach in Maui has his name on it.

I need to tell him that he is all that I want for New Year's Eve. Okay, so I also want my apartment by the light of the Christmas tree and the fire, and some decent champagne. But first and foremost I want him, this amazing man who has given me more than I had ever hoped to have in this life. Maybe that's another reason why I'd like to freeze time - if it turns out to be a dream, I'll at least have had it longer than three days.

"I don't know Mulder," I start to say, "don't you think it would be a little extravagant to do something like that on such short notice, I mean the airfare alone would be at a premium, and a hotel might be impossible to find at this late date."

He's looking at me with an expression in his eyes that I first saw five- and-a-half years ago, but that is now tempered by love. It's a hybrid, this expression. It's saying "yeah, all that's true, but I love you and want to celebrate the New Year somewhere special, and warm wouldn't hurt either." So I give him a look back. Mine's not a hybrid, it's new. A new look for this new aspect of our love. It's saying "I love you and if you really want this, we'll do it, even though my dream is here." Moments pass. Soft, warm, moments. His arms are something I don't ever want to be without. I think we will be staying.

~ End ~

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This story is (c) Copyright 2000 by Christine Leigh. "The X-Files" and its characters are the property of the Fox Network and Ten-Thirteen Productions and are borrowed here without profit or intent for profit.