This Place Called Home by Susan E-mail: touchstone98@tx.rr.com Classification: post-movie Thanksgiving vignette Spoiler: I Want to Believe Rating: G Archive: No archive without permission. Disclaimer: On paper, these characters aren't mine. In my head, they are. Author's note: For this story, I assumed that the events that occurred in I Want to Believe happened before Thanksgiving, even though I got the impression that they actually occurred sometime later in the winter. Then again, it's been months since the last time I saw the movie, and I could be wrong.;) Summary: There was a time when he thought he'd never settle down anywhere, that he'd never want to stop moving. ~~~~ Beads of sweat sat on his forehead like glistening pearls, each swing of the axe causing another one to appear. He'd only been out in the backyard for a few minutes, yet it felt as if he'd been chopping wood for hours. Wiping the droplets off his face with his arm, he raised the axe yet again, forcefully slamming the blade down into the thick piece of wood and splitting it in half. Two weeks ago, it could've been his neck beneath the same kind of axe, he knows, just as he knows that she got there in time to save him. He still dreams of that night sometimes, still dreams of the moonlight flickering across the blade as it was raised in the air above him. And he still dreams of seeing her face just inches above his afterwards, the steam from her breath wafting across his cheeks as she said his name. He got lucky that night just as he got lucky the day she walked into his office all those years ago. And he got lucky the day they decided to come here, to settle down in this place, the place they now call home. There was a time when he thought he'd never settle down anywhere, that he'd never want to stop moving, but then their lives were turned upside down and all they had left was each other. And it was then that he know that it was all he needed. *She* was all he needed. Tossing the newly split wood chunks into a wheelbarrow with the other pieces he'd cut, he started to haul the load towards the house. "There you are," said Scully as she pushed the back door open, took one step down on the stairs. "What took you so long, Mulder?" she asked, wrapping the small blanket draped around her shoulders around herself even more tightly as she let the screen door close behind her. "I was getting cold in there." He pushed the wheelbarrow right up next to the stairs, let go of the handles. "I can fix that," he said as he reached up over the railing and pulled her chilled body towards his warm one, then kissed her. "And bringing all this wood inside might help too," he teased. She smiled. "I don't know. I'm already feeling warmer." Running her palm over his hair, she let the soft strands slide between her fingers. "Are you saying you don't need this firewood anymore?" "Maybe." He let go of her then, but not before kissing her again. "In that case, I'll meet you by the fireplace in ten minutes. Be there and be naked." "Let's not push it," she laughed. "How about you bring all this wood inside, then I meet you in the kitchen with the last piece of pumpkin pie instead?" "Got any whipped cream left?" he asked, taking hold of the wheelbarrow handles again. "It depends on what you want to use it for," she said, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she reached for the door handle. He loved being with her when she was like this, loved seeing her playful side and knowing that he was the one who had coaxed her into showing it. And he loved that they'd been sharing another Thanksgiving together here, their fourth one in this house. It had been a perfect day, a day in which he'd watched Scully happily prepare the stuffing with mushrooms for him even though she didn't like it way. A day in which he'd eaten way more food and watched way more football than he should have. A day in which they'd simply sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, his hands massaging her feet, her hands busily turning the pages of the new book she'd just bought. A day in which he realized yet again how incredibly thankful he was to have her in his life. "Mulder, did you hear me?" she asked, her soft voice breaking through his reverie. "What?" he asked, his hands still clutching the handles of the wheelbarrow. "Are you okay?" she asked, the crease in her forehead deepening with concern. "You had a strange look on your face." "I'm fine," he replied. And he was fine with who he was now, with who they were after all these years. He'd found a sense of normalcy in this place, a level of comfort he never thought he'd feel, and though someday he might want to take another trip back into the life he once knew, for now he had what he needed. "So does that offer of pumpkin pie with whipped cream still stand or what?" he asked, his mouth curving into a smile. She smiled back. "I'll meet you in the kitchen," she said as she pulled the door open. "With two forks." "It's a date," he replied. Watching her step inside, then close the door behind her, he pushed the wheelbarrow into the open garage and began to haul the heavy load of wood into their house. And he was still smiling. ~end~ Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a very Happy Thanksgiving.:) possibilities http://possibilities.bravehost.com/