Title: In From The Cold
Author: cdavis
Email: cdavismsk@earthlink.net
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: X-Files
Pairings: M/Sk
Date: 10/21/99
Beta: MoonShadow, my guiding light
Category: Vignette
Disclaimers: Everyone knows to whom the characters belong. They're not mine.
Summary: Mulder thoughts while reclining on a Skinner couch.


In From The Cold
by cdavis

Walter's chest makes a nice backrest as we lounge lengthwise on the couch. It's broad and solid and I especially appreciate its warmth up here in this old cabin. Trust him to think winter is a nice time to spend time in a place without central heating. I can't imagine why he wanted to come up here now unless he likes having me plastered against him at every opportunity...well, maybe that's why he did it.

There's a fire in the fireplace and as long as I have these nice, big arms around me I don't even mind the cold much. I can deal with it when he holds me. Walt's sipping on a scotch and I'm nursing a cognac to chase away what's left of the cold after our foray to bring in the groceries. So I've got the heat going on the outside and the heat going on the inside and I'm feeling rather lazy.

The thought that I'm not holding up my end of the relationship begins to bother me. I should be stirring something up. Creating a little of my own brand of havoc. I'd like to play with Walter but I'm just not very good at it. Never have been. I tried it a couple of times when I was a kid but the results were never what I expected.

One case in point was back when Sam was five and we were all at the summer house. Sam wanted to get something out of the closet but I wouldn't let her. I threw my back against the door and told her I wouldn't let her in because there was a ghost inside. She didn't believe me at first but I guess I was pretty convincing because soon she was squealing in the way she did when she was having a good time. I guess Dad didn't think she was having a good time. And I don't want to think about what happened next.

I'd like to play with Walter. Not the kind of games we engage in at the office where he growls at me and I pretend to not give a shit. And not the kind that involve any of the toys at the back of the bedroom closet - although I like those a lot. Just something meaningless and fun.

I startle, just a bit, to get his attention. "Walter. I think there's a ghost in the closet," I whisper, doing my best to sound sincere.

"Only one?" he chuckles, kissing my ear, and I feel his fingers carding my hair. "Don't worry. I won't let it get us."

I settle back again, somehow reassured. I'll get this playing thing down pat one day. And when I do, Walter won't know what hit him.

END