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Title:           Snowmen and Sleigh Rides
Author:          Lovesfox
E-mail:          lovesfox@rogers.com
Website:         http://www.geocities.com/fanficcorner/index.html
Rating:          PG-13
Category:        MSR, Fluff
Classification:  SR - Story/Romance
Spoilers:        None

Summary:         Wintertime with Mulder, Scully and William

Archive:         Yes to Gossamer and Ephemeral, others please ask

Disclaimer:      Mulder, Scully and William do not belong to me,
                 they belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.
                 I mean no harm.
 
Thanks:          To Nancy

Author's Note:   This short story is a continuation of a
                 universe I created in a longer story called
                 The Eyes of a Child.  You do not have to
                 read TEOAC in order to follow this one, but
                 I'd love it if you did!  Just know that
                 Mulder and Scully are together, and William
                 is their son.  It diverts from the show just
                 before This is Not Happening.



Snowmen and Sleigh Rides
by Lovesfox

***

Mulder/Scully Residence
December 22, 2003
3:00 PM


"Okay, William," Scully said as she knelt in front of their son, 
tapping his nose with one index finger.  "Are you sure you don't 
have to go to the bathroom before we get your snowsuit on?"

"No potty," William responded emphatically, shaking his head with 
an equal intensity.  His chin had the often mutinous set of his 
father's, and his bow mouth was curved downwards in a frown.

From his perch on the third riser of the stairs, Mulder smiled to 
himself as Scully's jacket-covered shoulders rose up and down on 
a sigh.  William had made this very same avowal three times in the 
past two days already, only to need emergency potty runs in all 
three instances.  Of which two had been too late.

"Why don't we try, just in case?" Scully asked reasonably, a 
cheerful, if somewhat false smile on her face.

"No potty!"

Shrugging, Scully reached for William's bright red, one piece 
snowsuit and instructed their son to sit.  He did, with exuberance
and glee now that the potty questions were done with, giggling 
madly as his mother made a sound of surprise.  Excited to being 
going outside in the snow, however, William skipped his usual 
shenanigans and docilely allowed her to guide his legs through the 
foot holes.  Once that was done, he accepted Scully's helping hand 
to stand up, and sang softly to himself as she slipped his arms in 
their appropriate sleeves and then helped him to don his boots.

Frosty the Snowman was the song, and a fitting one it was.

His woolen hat, courtesy of Grandma, was next, pulled snugly over 
his ears and chin, leaving only the oval of his face uncovered.  
Long mittens slid over his fingers and covered his sleeves, and 
then Scully was pulling his hood over his hat and zipping up the 
snowsuit.  Next she wrapped a scarf around his neck and tied it 
securely.

Snickering, Mulder called out, "Can you still move, buddy?"

Scully glanced over her shoulder at him, one eyebrow raised in
playful warning.  "Behave yourself, Mulder, or you won't be allowed 
to play outside."

"Yes, dear," he replied with mock-repentance.  A trickle of sweat 
slipped along his neck and he reached up with one hand to tug at 
the collar of his turtleneck.  It was getting rather warm sitting 
there all dressed for snow time.  They had discovered it was much 
easier to get themselves ready first and then William, so that snow 
time could begin almost immediately.  For it generally ended 
prematurely.

Scully rose to her feet and reached for her own boots, slipping 
them on quickly.  Mulder rose as well, and found his boots, tying 
them up with a hurried efficiency as Scully retrieved both their 
pairs of gloves.

Together the three of them tromped to the door, William taking 
exaggerated steps so that his boots stomped loudly, and they were
finally outside.  They followed the stone path that Mulder had 
cleared earlier that morning around to the backyard, a place he 
had declared as ideal for snowmen making.

Pristine and untouched, the snow in the backyard shone in the bright
late afternoon sun, sparkling and glittering with tiny diamonds of 
light.  The air was crisp and cool, the sky a brilliant blue and 
cloudless, a perfect day to be outdoors.

As Mulder surveyed the area for prime areas of snow for their family 
of snowmen, Scully took William's mittened hand and led him to one 
side.

"We're going to make snow angels, sweetie," Mulder heard her say.
Turning to watch, Mulder started patting his pockets, trying to
remember if he had put the digital camera in one or not.  He had,
and pulled it out.

While he readied it, Scully lay down on her back and showed William
how to make a snow angel, her arms and legs moving with enthusiasm
and grace to form the wings and skirt of the angel.  Before she
could rise to help their son, he scampered to a spot beside her and
lay down with a surprising grace of his own.

If his movements were choppy, they were still correct, and in 
moments Mulder was snapping a picture of his two snow angels, with
identical blue eyes, rosy cheeks and big grins.

Tucking the camera back in his pocket, which he zippered shut again,
Mulder then carefully helped Scully to her feet, saving her snow
angel from destruction.  William stood up without assistance and 
moved several steps away from the snow angels, whereupon he threw
himself down in a fresh spot of snow to make another one.

When he had tired of that, four snow angels later, he ran over and
threw himself against Mulder's legs.  "Snowmen, Daddy?"

"Snowmen, buddy."

And they got to work.

Mulder showed William how to start a snowball and let his son roll
it a few times before taking over as it got too hard for William
to push.  Fortunately it was packing snow, and held well.  William 
began another one while Mulder continued to roll what would be the 
base of their first snowman.  Scully started another ball, 
announcing it would be the middle.

A potty-free hour later, they had their snowmen family completed.
Daddy Snowman, Mommy Snowman and Little Boy Snowman, after William
declared, "I not a baby!"  Each snowman had a carrot for his or her 
nose, black button eyes, rocks for their smile and twigs for their 
arms.  The mommy had a pretty scarf around her neck, and both the 
daddy and the little boy had baseball caps on their heads.

Obligatory cute pictures were taken with the digital camera, of
course, and then a snowball fight started, after the camera was
tucked safely away in Mulder's pocket.  The unprovoked, purely 
sneak-attack snowball fight, as Mulder was inclined to tell the 
story later, perpetrated as he was crouched down re-tying a boot 
lace.

In her slyly devious way, Scully showed William how to make a 
snowball, and helped him to throw it at his unsuspecting, innocent 
father.  And with stunningly accurate aim, as Mulder told it, or 
incredibly good luck, in Scully's opinion, said snowball struck 
his father in the back of the head.

Then, taking advantage of his surprise, Scully proceeded to pound
him with a barrage of further deadly accurate snowballs, though she 
continued to claim it was only two.

Just as Mulder was about to exact his revenge and dump Scully in
the nearest snow bank or pile, William chose that suspiciously
timed moment to exclaim quite loudly, "Go potty!"

Scully's face registered alarm, and she moved with an amazing speed,
scooping William up and racing out of the yard, muffled giggles of
victory trailing in her wake.

Sighing dejectedly at having lost his chance to play in the snow
with Scully, Mulder followed.

***

Christmas Tree Farm
December 22, 2003
10:00 PM


Scully guided the Jeep into a spot near the entrance to the Tree
Farm, shifted into park and killed the engine.  Glancing over at 
Mulder, she saw that he was regarding her with rampant curiosity  
in his gaze.

"Scully, why are we here again?" he asked plainly.  

They had already picked up their tree the previous week, having 
returned once again this year, due to the friendly service and 
atmosphere.

"It's more than just a tree farm, Mulder," was her only reply,
her voice just this side of teasing.  She pulled the key from the 
ignition and pressed the release button on her seat belt, fighting 
to keep a smile off her face.

Mulder copied her actions with his own seat belt.  "That's not
helping any, Scully."

"I know," she replied, and opening the door, exited the vehicle.
She caught his mock-huff of exasperation as she shut it behind her,
and the smile had its way after all.  Waiting until he had also 
exited, she then engaged the lock/alarm combination as she rounded 
the back of the Jeep.

Stepping into his personal space, tight against his side, Scully
stretched up on tiptoe and stole a quick kiss.  His lips were cool, 
and she was tempted to linger, to warm them, and her own, but she 
didn't.  Flat-footed again, she took a step back and lifted her
head to meet his still-curious gaze.  "It's a surprise, Mulder."

Huffing again, he said dryly, "You're the one who loves surprises, 
Scully."

"True," she drawled out the word as she tilted her head to one
side coquettishly.  "But...you love me, so it balances out just 
fine," was her comeback, accompanied by an impish grin.

"Nice rationalization."

She let the grin widen, reaching out to grab his hand and tug him
along after her.  He'd find out in a few short minutes what the
surprise was, and she hoped he'd be pleased.  Was mostly certain
that he would be.

They were met just inside the gates by the owner herself, Ann
Tyler.  The older woman remembered them, smiling warmly.  "I've
got hot chocolate, if you're interested?"

After a quick glance at Mulder, Scully declined on their behalf, 
and with another smile, Ann indicated that they should follow her.  
Their footsteps crunching in the snow and breath steaming the air, 
she led them around back of the long, one-storey building that 
served as the Farm's main entry.

There they saw a barn, painted a bright cheery red and illuminated 
by artfully placed white floodlights, and several other 
outbuildings.  Despite the relative lateness of the evening, there 
was a bustle to the place -- employees moving about, tree-shoppers 
coming in from the Farm.

Ann continued on past the barn, where she came to a stop in front
of a red and black-painted, old-fashioned sleigh parked several 
yards away.  A large bay workhorse wearing a leather harness decked 
in sleigh bells was placidly waiting to take them for a brisk trot 
in the snow.  Another similar-styled sleigh, somewhat larger and 
pulled by two horses, had just left, leaving fresh tracks in its 
wake.

"Here's your ride, folks," Ann said with obvious pride, giving the 
horse a gentle pat on its flank and getting a nicker in return.  
"Your driver's name is Ryan, and he'll be along in just a moment.  
Enjoy!"

"Thank-you," Scully replied and after the owner had departed, turned
to look at Mulder.  He was studying the high-backed sleigh, his eyes 
wide and his lips slightly parted.  A moment later he was flashing 
his teeth at her in a wide grin.

"I think I'm going to like this surprise, Scully."

She took the necessary strides to bring herself next to him, and
snuggled into his side, her arm sliding around his waist as his arm 
came up to wrap around her shoulders.  "I'm glad."

A young man in his mid-twenties dressed in a thick plaid jacket and
a hat with ear flaps and carrying a blue Thermos approached a few 
minutes later.  "Hey folks, I'm Ryan, and I'll be your guide for
tonight."

Ryan assisted Scully into the sleigh, and she sat herself down on
the plushly padded, comfortable bench seat.  Mulder slid in next 
to her, and though there was probably enough room for a third 
person, he chose to sit so that their bodies touched from shoulder 
to thigh.  Not that she was complaining.  Ryan handed them a thick 
blanket to cover their legs once they were settled, and then set 
about checking the horse.

In mere minutes, they were off.  Ryan seemed to sense they didn't
need his patter, and after a brief introduction and explanation,
kept silent.

As it had been earlier in the day, the air was crisp and fresh, 
cold, but not the kind of cold that made one want to hibernate 
inside.  Still, Scully was glad for the heat generated by Mulder, 
who now had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and for the 
blanket covering her legs and feet.  She leaned her head back on
the strength of his arm and looked upwards.  The sky was clear
and dark velvet black, with thousands of stars dotting its inky
canopy.  It was a great night for a sleigh ride.

It was also a great night for some good, old-fashioned necking,
while Mulder's hands roamed hither and yon.  His murmured
endearments served to keep the chill at bay while they kissed 
and nuzzled as the sleigh carried them along the snow and the 
wind rustled in the trees.

Thus the flush on her cheeks was not only from the cold winter
air when they arrived back at the Farm.

After thanking Ryan, and then Ann for a lovely experience, they
walked hand-in-hand to the Jeep.  Scully surrendered the keys
without protest, planning to doze during the ride home.

And doze she did, waking up as Mulder pulled the Jeep into their
driveway.  He smiled tenderly at her, his hand coming up to
stroke along her cheek and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Come on, sleepyhead," he said, and let his hand fall away.  They 
climbed out of the vehicle simultaneously, and Mulder engaged the 
locks once they had both shut their doors.  He waited for her to 
round the car, his hand outstretched for hers.

She should have been suspicious when he claimed to have forgotten
his gloves in the Jeep halfway to the house, but lulled by the 
wonderful evening and her nap in the car, her radar remained
calm.

His snort of laughter was all the warning she had, just before
a snowball smacked her in the back of the head.  She turned and
gave him a patented Scully glare, so named by Mulder himself.

"Turnabout is fair play, Scully," he smirked, tossing another
snowball from one hand to the other.

Smirking herself, she replied, "Funny, I had a different kind of
play in mind."  With that, she turned around and dashed the rest
of the way to the door.

The second snowball did not come, only a panting Mulder, eager
to get them inside and upstairs to bed.

***

The End

Merry Christmas to all.
December 23, 2003