Title: Same Thing
Author: ScullyAsTrinity AKA Barenaked Bostonian
Rating: R, for implied situations. I know Ms. A is proud, three fictions WITHOUT smut! Go me!!! Okay, without DESCRIPTIVE smut, still...
Keyword: MSR, UST MAJOR ANGST (or at least *I* think!)
Distribution: Yeah, I'd really like my work to gain a reputation outside of
Gossamer please. PLEASE ARCHIVE ME!!!! WAAAAAAAAH! Though even I admit, it sucks, alot.
Disclaimer: Yes. I own Scully and Mulder. Scully and I do each other's hair and nails and then we play with Mulder. We *play* with him. Okay, I haven't
written smut in awhile and it's seeping out.... right now.
Summary: Would it kill Mulder to make love to Scully? What about for just one night?
---
Her back was toward the head dining chair and he was resting on the armrest
of her sofa, facing her. He still wore his leather jacket, which encased his gray tee-shirt clad chest. His legs adorned jeans that fell onto his Doc Martens, that were caked in dry mud.
His face was losing its essence of sleep that it held when she let him into
her apartment. And his hair hung slightly damp, into his eyes.
She stood in front of him, trying not to let her true emotions show through. She was trying to stand absolutely still, but he could make out the shaking that was racking her shoulders. She looked down at her hands, which were clasped in front of her waist, the knuckles turning white. To the untrained eye, it would look like she was in perfect control of the situation. Only Mulder *was* trained, and he knew what was really going on- almost.
"Mulder..." She mustered all of her courage and brought her face up to meet
his eyes with her own. "I want- I need you to love me tonight. Just tonight." Although the words seeped through her down-turned lips,
She ended there, and left the topic in the air. She was staring straight at him.
He knew what she was asking, but doing this without... something... was impossible.
"Scully, I..." His voice was barely a whisper. He face hadn't changed since he began, and it held the same firmness now. His face, however, was solemn and angst-ridden, his voice trying, and failing, to portray all of the emotion he was feeling.
"I can't." He finished, and her face fell just a bit.
She gestured with her hand to the door, the light from the dying fire illuminating her face in the dark living room.
"Sorry to wake you." He resolve broke and she gasped for air. Embarrassed beyond words she started toward the door before she was stopped my his hand
grasping her wrist.
"I can't Scully. Not just for one night. I can't love you for one night. Not when- not when I've..."
He trailed off, his voice braking. She turned to look at him, the tear stains evident on her porcelain cheeks. Her eyes prompted him to continued,
so he swallowed the grief that was rising in his throat.
"Scully, I can't just use these feelings tonight, and pretend like it never
happened. It's... it's impossible for me to just love you with my- with my
body."
She blinked, that was all.
"Do you understand?" He asked her, his voice clearing. "It would kill me." He whispered, his voice once again breaking on the tears that surfaced.
Her whole body trembled. She knew what he was saying, but did he realize the weight of his words?
His hands came off of her wrist and he turned abruptly toward the window, standing in front of it and staring down at the street.
"I never would have thought it would be so hard, but then again I did." He
sighed through tears. "You know, it used to be so goddamned easy to control
my emotions, to cast out my demons. No one existed but myself in my blatant egotistical mind. Nothing but me and my memories. Then you saved me from myself. And I tried..."
He turned to her, speaking the words directly to her soul.
"Then I wasn't me again. It tried so hard not to let my feelings come into
play. I thought it would fuck up my judgment, what's left of my rational."
Her lips twisted into a small smile.
"I was never like this." His face was serious, but held a hint of remorse. "You changed me, I didn't think anyone could." He stared at her for a moment, and the sobered up.
"This isn't me, I- I'll go now." He made for the door.
She sobbed, loud and clear, she sobbed. It was like nothing he had ever heard before. It held grief and frustration and angst. He stopped dead in
his tracks. Standing silently facing the door, he could hear her crying amongst the dying crackle pop of the fire.
He walked over to where she now sat on the couch. He sat beside her and she
shied away from his body.
He touched her hair, but she sobbed louder, no longer caring about her resolve, no longer caring how he saw her. If he saw her as anything.
"I didn't think you'd want more." She whispered. "I didn't think you saw me- at all. It was all about the work. The work you thought was just yours."
His brow furrowed.
"I didn't think you wanted anything more, so I never thought of anything more. I never thought there *was* anything to be had between us, because it was your call." Her voice held anger and contempt for him, for taking such
liberties with her character. She didn't realize it had been herself that had taken those liberties, not him.
"Scully, there's always something more." He said so softly, leaning into kiss her hair.
She slowly withdrew from her self-cocoon and looked at him, her eyes still wet and red.
"There's always something more." He repeated, stoking the side of her face with his thumbs. She leaned into his touch, making very unlike herself and
closed her eyes. She sighed, and he brought his lips down onto hers softly, so soft she thought she had imagined it.
And then it hit her. Tonight was not a night of unbridled passion and lust,
although she knew he possessed both. Tonight was about what they knew they
shared for each other, a moment that had been in the making for some time now.
He intensified the kiss, smothering her. Her lips slid open and his tongue
played over hers. She thought she might faint. All this man had done to her was kiss her and she thought she might faint.
She returned his kiss as best she could, she was now becoming light-headed.
He advanced and gently pushed her onto the couch, waiting for any sign of resistance, she showed none.
They stayed on the couch for an unknown amount of time. Time no longer mattered. To Mulder, they had the rest of their lives to complete this.
She broke away, gasping for air and gently pushed him off of her. She was smiling shyly as she took his hand and led him toward the bedroom.
Clothes flew off and softly lilted to the floor. Clothes or their placement no longer mattered when he gently placed her on the bed. There would be time for wild abandon and raw passion later.
Now, now was a time to express their love for one another.
He wondered, as he drifted into her, how hopelessly in love he could be. If he knew that what he was feeling was love. His thoughts were cut away from
him when Scully let out a low moan and arched into him.
He invaded her like a tidal wave, crashing, crashing, crashing...
Until they both crashed.
The blue comforter was wrapped comfortably around their torsos as they stared at each other in the dim moonlight that filtered in through her partially open blinds.
He reached out and stroked her cheek, and silently rebuked himself for being so mushy, so sentimental. But he needed this, he needed to love her and be loved in return. Touching her was a way of making him real to her.
She sighed and her eyes fluttered shut, but only for a brief moment. When the tears began to escape the clamped lids, she opened them, no longer content to hide them.
His brow furrowed in confusion. Why was she crying? Had he done something wrong? Had he-
"I..." She began. Oh God, she regretted it, didn't she? It had all been one
huge giant mistake and now she was going to expel him from her heart and from her bed.
"I should have told you before. I should have... I should have told you ages ago, but." She paused for a moment, finally making eye contact with him.
"This may take a moment, because I don't have much experience doing this...
I... I don't know what love is. I mean, I mean I'm not sure. I mean.... I've never actually loved someone so completely before. None of my past experiences have been about... love. And Mulder, I... I love you. I think,
I mean-"
And he kissed her then, gently. Completely.
"I was thinking the same thing." He said, smiling at her, after they had regained their breath.
She smiled as well.
"Mulder, it's going to be okay right? I mean..."
"Scully, it's going to be spiffy." He said, and she started to laugh. "Nothing's gonna change. Now I can just express my love for you physically."
He waggled his eyebrows as seductively as he could at her. She lightly smacked him on the cheek.
"What makes you think I'll let you? Huh?" She asked playfully.
His face became somber and serious as he picked up her hand off of the bed.
He brought it to his lips and kissed each of the fingers.
"Scully, I'm going to make love to you every day for the rest of my life, and then, I'm going to make you eat buttered popcorn and whole milk. Then,
once you've gotten to eat *real* food, we're going to ride a roller coaster
until we puke and go running together. I bet I have a better mile than you."
"In your dreams." She whispered, and looked deep into his eyes.
"You know, the psychological repercussions of this should be tremendous." He said, not quite interested, at the time being fascinated with kissing the vein on the back of Scully's arm. "But albeit, pleasurable."
She could feel him smile against her skin. "Hmmm, very pleasurable." She sighed. "It'll give me something to think about during that consultation we
have on Monday."
Monday. Work, suits and superiors. "Nothing is going to change on Monday Scully, you know that right? I mean, we're not going back to the way things
were. Or at least I'm not."
He held her hand tight and searched her eyes for some sort of answer.
"Mulder, I fully plan on making love to *you* every night for the rest of my life. Give or take Sundays-" The smirk she was wearing was swallowed in the
kiss that he gave her.
He rolled her so that she was resting on his chest, his fingers playing in her hair.
"Tomorrow is Sunday." He said, pulling the comforter tighter around them.
"Shut up Mulder."
---
Her heels crushed the snow under her brand new flats. The scarf, which was soft gray, was wrapped tightly around her neck. A walk had seemed like a good idea at the time, that time being twenty minutes ago, but now it just seemed- cold.
She picked up her steps and turned her face away from the wind. It was then that she felt the snowball pelt her back. She froze in her tracks and spun
around to find a sheepish looking Mulder standing before her.
"Are you following me Mulder?" Her voice was desperately trying to sound annoyed but she wasn't pulling it off. How could she, when he was wearing that face?
"Now why would I do a thing like that Scully? Why would I follow you when I
could fully well call you on your cell phone... which is shut off, so yes, I followed you."
"How long have you been following me?" She rocked on her heels and hugged herself tighter, trying to expel some of the chill that currently resided in her bones.
"Seven blocks, give or take, I saw you come out of your building." His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and the snow that fell on his lids made him look like a six year old child.
"Yes well-" She pauses and puffed out a breath of white air. "I didn't realize how cold it actually was until about six blocks ago. It's cold."
She smiled, as did he, and he took a step closer to her. She almost stepped back, out of habit, but reprimanded herself before she had a chance to.
"Wanna indulge one of my fantasies Scully?" He asked, sounding so very hopeful. She quirked an eyebrow and attempted to wipe the smile off of her
face. Her attempt was futile.
"Well, it depends on what that fantasy is, now doesn't it Mulder?"
He bent down, as if to kiss her, but all he did was rub his nose to her's in little Eskimo kisses. She laughed and then sighed. How could such a child-like gesture invoke such intimate feelings in her? It made her feel cherished, and just for that one moment, everything was perfect.
"Be my snow angel, Scully." She began to smile but saw the look in his eyes. How the hell was she supposed to do that?
"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" She asked, half of a laugh sneaking past her lips.
"I don't know, come and make snow angels with me in the park." His gloved hand gestured down the street. In the direction of the Daniel P. Griffin Playground.
She quirked her eyebrow toward him and began to move in the general direction, but he caught her, and wrapped her up in his arms.
"You're cold." he said, matter-of-factly.
"Hmmmm, and you're warm." Settling her body into his chest, they took off down the street towards the playground. It was difficult to walk with her in front of him, but he'd make do. It wasn't every day you get Scully wrapped contentedly in your arms.
Three blocks from their destination, he began to speak again.
"Snow is like magic. It looks like magic, you know?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "I've always loved the snow, especially the Nor-Easters that kept us out of school on the Cape, those were the best. The neighborhood kids would go down to the pond and ice skate, play hockey. But I always had to go in early because I got too cold. Mom would give me hot chocolate and wrap me in a blanket. But I couldn't have fun like the rest of the kids."
"I'm not cold anymore Scully."
"Neither am I Mulder."
They had reached their intended destination, and he quickly took off in the
direction of a rusty swing set. He brushed the snow from the seat and then
did the same for its neighbor. She sat next to him, and the both began to rock a bit, not quite swinging.
Abruptly, he stopped. She was quite confused at his display of behavior, but he stopped her swing as well.
Leaning his face down, he kissed her, softly, on the lips. All notions of chapped lips flew from her mind. *That's what they make Chap Stick for Dana.* All she could concentrate on was his soft mouth, loving hers.
"Snow angels, Scully." He got up slowly, and took her hand. He led them through a jungle gym, and past the tire swing, out into the baseball field,
where he laid down in the snow, which showed no signs of stopping its descent from the sky.
She sat next to him, her backside becoming incredibly cold, and desiring to
finish with this little project so that they could get back home. His smile lit up his face as he moved arms and legs in tandem. His laugh cut through
the night air like a razor, making it more serene, if that was possible.
She smiled back at him, and flopped herself back into her own heap of snow.
Following Mulder's lead, she proceeded to make a snow angel, only slightly imperfect from her shoe mark, where she had placed her foot to stand up.
When she jumped to get out of the impression, she fell, on her back, back into the snow. Mulder wasn't far behind her, covering her body with his and presenting her with more tender kisses. Soon, it had become too cold to stand anymore, and they made their way out of the park.
They headed home.
Author: ScullyAsTrinity AKA Barenaked Bostonian
Rating: R, for implied situations. I know Ms. A is proud, three fictions WITHOUT smut! Go me!!! Okay, without DESCRIPTIVE smut, still...
Keyword: MSR, UST MAJOR ANGST (or at least *I* think!)
Distribution: Yeah, I'd really like my work to gain a reputation outside of
Gossamer please. PLEASE ARCHIVE ME!!!! WAAAAAAAAH! Though even I admit, it sucks, alot.
Disclaimer: Yes. I own Scully and Mulder. Scully and I do each other's hair and nails and then we play with Mulder. We *play* with him. Okay, I haven't
written smut in awhile and it's seeping out.... right now.
Summary: Would it kill Mulder to make love to Scully? What about for just one night?
---
Her back was toward the head dining chair and he was resting on the armrest
of her sofa, facing her. He still wore his leather jacket, which encased his gray tee-shirt clad chest. His legs adorned jeans that fell onto his Doc Martens, that were caked in dry mud.
His face was losing its essence of sleep that it held when she let him into
her apartment. And his hair hung slightly damp, into his eyes.
She stood in front of him, trying not to let her true emotions show through. She was trying to stand absolutely still, but he could make out the shaking that was racking her shoulders. She looked down at her hands, which were clasped in front of her waist, the knuckles turning white. To the untrained eye, it would look like she was in perfect control of the situation. Only Mulder *was* trained, and he knew what was really going on- almost.
"Mulder..." She mustered all of her courage and brought her face up to meet
his eyes with her own. "I want- I need you to love me tonight. Just tonight." Although the words seeped through her down-turned lips,
She ended there, and left the topic in the air. She was staring straight at him.
He knew what she was asking, but doing this without... something... was impossible.
"Scully, I..." His voice was barely a whisper. He face hadn't changed since he began, and it held the same firmness now. His face, however, was solemn and angst-ridden, his voice trying, and failing, to portray all of the emotion he was feeling.
"I can't." He finished, and her face fell just a bit.
She gestured with her hand to the door, the light from the dying fire illuminating her face in the dark living room.
"Sorry to wake you." He resolve broke and she gasped for air. Embarrassed beyond words she started toward the door before she was stopped my his hand
grasping her wrist.
"I can't Scully. Not just for one night. I can't love you for one night. Not when- not when I've..."
He trailed off, his voice braking. She turned to look at him, the tear stains evident on her porcelain cheeks. Her eyes prompted him to continued,
so he swallowed the grief that was rising in his throat.
"Scully, I can't just use these feelings tonight, and pretend like it never
happened. It's... it's impossible for me to just love you with my- with my
body."
She blinked, that was all.
"Do you understand?" He asked her, his voice clearing. "It would kill me." He whispered, his voice once again breaking on the tears that surfaced.
Her whole body trembled. She knew what he was saying, but did he realize the weight of his words?
His hands came off of her wrist and he turned abruptly toward the window, standing in front of it and staring down at the street.
"I never would have thought it would be so hard, but then again I did." He
sighed through tears. "You know, it used to be so goddamned easy to control
my emotions, to cast out my demons. No one existed but myself in my blatant egotistical mind. Nothing but me and my memories. Then you saved me from myself. And I tried..."
He turned to her, speaking the words directly to her soul.
"Then I wasn't me again. It tried so hard not to let my feelings come into
play. I thought it would fuck up my judgment, what's left of my rational."
Her lips twisted into a small smile.
"I was never like this." His face was serious, but held a hint of remorse. "You changed me, I didn't think anyone could." He stared at her for a moment, and the sobered up.
"This isn't me, I- I'll go now." He made for the door.
She sobbed, loud and clear, she sobbed. It was like nothing he had ever heard before. It held grief and frustration and angst. He stopped dead in
his tracks. Standing silently facing the door, he could hear her crying amongst the dying crackle pop of the fire.
He walked over to where she now sat on the couch. He sat beside her and she
shied away from his body.
He touched her hair, but she sobbed louder, no longer caring about her resolve, no longer caring how he saw her. If he saw her as anything.
"I didn't think you'd want more." She whispered. "I didn't think you saw me- at all. It was all about the work. The work you thought was just yours."
His brow furrowed.
"I didn't think you wanted anything more, so I never thought of anything more. I never thought there *was* anything to be had between us, because it was your call." Her voice held anger and contempt for him, for taking such
liberties with her character. She didn't realize it had been herself that had taken those liberties, not him.
"Scully, there's always something more." He said so softly, leaning into kiss her hair.
She slowly withdrew from her self-cocoon and looked at him, her eyes still wet and red.
"There's always something more." He repeated, stoking the side of her face with his thumbs. She leaned into his touch, making very unlike herself and
closed her eyes. She sighed, and he brought his lips down onto hers softly, so soft she thought she had imagined it.
And then it hit her. Tonight was not a night of unbridled passion and lust,
although she knew he possessed both. Tonight was about what they knew they
shared for each other, a moment that had been in the making for some time now.
He intensified the kiss, smothering her. Her lips slid open and his tongue
played over hers. She thought she might faint. All this man had done to her was kiss her and she thought she might faint.
She returned his kiss as best she could, she was now becoming light-headed.
He advanced and gently pushed her onto the couch, waiting for any sign of resistance, she showed none.
They stayed on the couch for an unknown amount of time. Time no longer mattered. To Mulder, they had the rest of their lives to complete this.
She broke away, gasping for air and gently pushed him off of her. She was smiling shyly as she took his hand and led him toward the bedroom.
Clothes flew off and softly lilted to the floor. Clothes or their placement no longer mattered when he gently placed her on the bed. There would be time for wild abandon and raw passion later.
Now, now was a time to express their love for one another.
He wondered, as he drifted into her, how hopelessly in love he could be. If he knew that what he was feeling was love. His thoughts were cut away from
him when Scully let out a low moan and arched into him.
He invaded her like a tidal wave, crashing, crashing, crashing...
Until they both crashed.
The blue comforter was wrapped comfortably around their torsos as they stared at each other in the dim moonlight that filtered in through her partially open blinds.
He reached out and stroked her cheek, and silently rebuked himself for being so mushy, so sentimental. But he needed this, he needed to love her and be loved in return. Touching her was a way of making him real to her.
She sighed and her eyes fluttered shut, but only for a brief moment. When the tears began to escape the clamped lids, she opened them, no longer content to hide them.
His brow furrowed in confusion. Why was she crying? Had he done something wrong? Had he-
"I..." She began. Oh God, she regretted it, didn't she? It had all been one
huge giant mistake and now she was going to expel him from her heart and from her bed.
"I should have told you before. I should have... I should have told you ages ago, but." She paused for a moment, finally making eye contact with him.
"This may take a moment, because I don't have much experience doing this...
I... I don't know what love is. I mean, I mean I'm not sure. I mean.... I've never actually loved someone so completely before. None of my past experiences have been about... love. And Mulder, I... I love you. I think,
I mean-"
And he kissed her then, gently. Completely.
"I was thinking the same thing." He said, smiling at her, after they had regained their breath.
She smiled as well.
"Mulder, it's going to be okay right? I mean..."
"Scully, it's going to be spiffy." He said, and she started to laugh. "Nothing's gonna change. Now I can just express my love for you physically."
He waggled his eyebrows as seductively as he could at her. She lightly smacked him on the cheek.
"What makes you think I'll let you? Huh?" She asked playfully.
His face became somber and serious as he picked up her hand off of the bed.
He brought it to his lips and kissed each of the fingers.
"Scully, I'm going to make love to you every day for the rest of my life, and then, I'm going to make you eat buttered popcorn and whole milk. Then,
once you've gotten to eat *real* food, we're going to ride a roller coaster
until we puke and go running together. I bet I have a better mile than you."
"In your dreams." She whispered, and looked deep into his eyes.
"You know, the psychological repercussions of this should be tremendous." He said, not quite interested, at the time being fascinated with kissing the vein on the back of Scully's arm. "But albeit, pleasurable."
She could feel him smile against her skin. "Hmmm, very pleasurable." She sighed. "It'll give me something to think about during that consultation we
have on Monday."
Monday. Work, suits and superiors. "Nothing is going to change on Monday Scully, you know that right? I mean, we're not going back to the way things
were. Or at least I'm not."
He held her hand tight and searched her eyes for some sort of answer.
"Mulder, I fully plan on making love to *you* every night for the rest of my life. Give or take Sundays-" The smirk she was wearing was swallowed in the
kiss that he gave her.
He rolled her so that she was resting on his chest, his fingers playing in her hair.
"Tomorrow is Sunday." He said, pulling the comforter tighter around them.
"Shut up Mulder."
---
Her heels crushed the snow under her brand new flats. The scarf, which was soft gray, was wrapped tightly around her neck. A walk had seemed like a good idea at the time, that time being twenty minutes ago, but now it just seemed- cold.
She picked up her steps and turned her face away from the wind. It was then that she felt the snowball pelt her back. She froze in her tracks and spun
around to find a sheepish looking Mulder standing before her.
"Are you following me Mulder?" Her voice was desperately trying to sound annoyed but she wasn't pulling it off. How could she, when he was wearing that face?
"Now why would I do a thing like that Scully? Why would I follow you when I
could fully well call you on your cell phone... which is shut off, so yes, I followed you."
"How long have you been following me?" She rocked on her heels and hugged herself tighter, trying to expel some of the chill that currently resided in her bones.
"Seven blocks, give or take, I saw you come out of your building." His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and the snow that fell on his lids made him look like a six year old child.
"Yes well-" She pauses and puffed out a breath of white air. "I didn't realize how cold it actually was until about six blocks ago. It's cold."
She smiled, as did he, and he took a step closer to her. She almost stepped back, out of habit, but reprimanded herself before she had a chance to.
"Wanna indulge one of my fantasies Scully?" He asked, sounding so very hopeful. She quirked an eyebrow and attempted to wipe the smile off of her
face. Her attempt was futile.
"Well, it depends on what that fantasy is, now doesn't it Mulder?"
He bent down, as if to kiss her, but all he did was rub his nose to her's in little Eskimo kisses. She laughed and then sighed. How could such a child-like gesture invoke such intimate feelings in her? It made her feel cherished, and just for that one moment, everything was perfect.
"Be my snow angel, Scully." She began to smile but saw the look in his eyes. How the hell was she supposed to do that?
"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" She asked, half of a laugh sneaking past her lips.
"I don't know, come and make snow angels with me in the park." His gloved hand gestured down the street. In the direction of the Daniel P. Griffin Playground.
She quirked her eyebrow toward him and began to move in the general direction, but he caught her, and wrapped her up in his arms.
"You're cold." he said, matter-of-factly.
"Hmmmm, and you're warm." Settling her body into his chest, they took off down the street towards the playground. It was difficult to walk with her in front of him, but he'd make do. It wasn't every day you get Scully wrapped contentedly in your arms.
Three blocks from their destination, he began to speak again.
"Snow is like magic. It looks like magic, you know?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "I've always loved the snow, especially the Nor-Easters that kept us out of school on the Cape, those were the best. The neighborhood kids would go down to the pond and ice skate, play hockey. But I always had to go in early because I got too cold. Mom would give me hot chocolate and wrap me in a blanket. But I couldn't have fun like the rest of the kids."
"I'm not cold anymore Scully."
"Neither am I Mulder."
They had reached their intended destination, and he quickly took off in the
direction of a rusty swing set. He brushed the snow from the seat and then
did the same for its neighbor. She sat next to him, and the both began to rock a bit, not quite swinging.
Abruptly, he stopped. She was quite confused at his display of behavior, but he stopped her swing as well.
Leaning his face down, he kissed her, softly, on the lips. All notions of chapped lips flew from her mind. *That's what they make Chap Stick for Dana.* All she could concentrate on was his soft mouth, loving hers.
"Snow angels, Scully." He got up slowly, and took her hand. He led them through a jungle gym, and past the tire swing, out into the baseball field,
where he laid down in the snow, which showed no signs of stopping its descent from the sky.
She sat next to him, her backside becoming incredibly cold, and desiring to
finish with this little project so that they could get back home. His smile lit up his face as he moved arms and legs in tandem. His laugh cut through
the night air like a razor, making it more serene, if that was possible.
She smiled back at him, and flopped herself back into her own heap of snow.
Following Mulder's lead, she proceeded to make a snow angel, only slightly imperfect from her shoe mark, where she had placed her foot to stand up.
When she jumped to get out of the impression, she fell, on her back, back into the snow. Mulder wasn't far behind her, covering her body with his and presenting her with more tender kisses. Soon, it had become too cold to stand anymore, and they made their way out of the park.
They headed home.