Collage by Jessica - archived at Dare To Believe

TITLE:  Nonessential Personnel
AUTHOR:  Lara Means
CLASSIFICATION:  SR
RATING:  PG
ARCHIVE:  Gossamer, YES; Spookys site, YES; Ephemeral, YES; 
anywhere else, YES, but if possible please let me know

SPOILERS:  Millennium

SUMMARY:  Mulder and Scully have a snow day.  (Set between 
Millennium and Rush.)

DATE POSTED:  01/27/00

FEEDBACK:  Hey, writers live for this stuff.  Constructive 
criticism is welcomed, on the newsgroup or at LaraMeansXF@aol.com 

DISCLAIMER:  "The X-Files" is copyright Twentieth Century 
Fox Television and Ten Thirteen Productions.  The show, its 
premise and characters were created by Chris Carter and are 
used here without permission.  No copyright infringement is 
intended, no profit will be realized.  (I've also borrowed 
the name of a character from Carter's "Millennium" as a 
pseudonym.  Same disclaimer applies.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NONESSENTIAL PERSONNEL

by Lara Means

Dana Scully's Apartment
January 25, 2000
8:12 a.m.

"So Scully, how's it feel to be nonessential?"

"Mulder, what are you talking about?"  She was dripping wet, 
a towel wrapped around her head, cordless phone to her ear.

"Haven't you been watching the news?  Haven't you looked 
outside?"

"I've been in the shower."  She headed for the window seat 
in the living room and peered through the shutters.  "Oh my 
God."

"Five inches in downtown D.C., more in the suburbs, more 
expected later on.  The government's been shut down, all 
nonessential personnel told not to report.  That's us."  Her 
call-waiting signal beeped.  "That'll be Skinner.  I'll hold 
on."

Scully sighed and clicked over to the other call.  It was 
indeed Skinner, and he relayed essentially the same 
information Mulder just had.  She sighed again and clicked 
back over to Mulder, who was still inordinately cheerful.

"So, how do you want to spend our snow day?"

"I suppose I could run some errands..."

"What, you mean, like shopping?  Turn on the TV, Scully.  I 
doubt the malls will be open today, either."

She bit back a groan -- she *had* thought about looking for 
a belated birthday gift for Matthew.  "You have a better 
idea, Mulder?"  She could almost hear his broad smile over 
the phone lines.

"I'll be there in twenty."

"Mulder, if it's that bad, I'm sure they're asking people to 
stay off the roads unless absolutely necessary."

"But it *is* absolutely necessary."  She heard him smile 
again.  "We've got a snow day!"

She shook her head as he hung up.  My partner is a thirty-
eight-year-old child, she thought, staring out the window 
again at the thick blanket of white stuff that just kept 
falling, and falling...

Forty-five minutes later Mulder stood in her hallway, 
stomping his boots and slapping his gloves together.  She 
handed him a cup of coffee and noticed his reddened nose and 
cheeks, shook her head.  "You really ought to wear a scarf, 
Mulder."  She reached up and brushed the snow from his hair, 
letting her fingers run through the damp, silky strands an 
instant longer than necessary.  "And a hat."

"It's a lot more fun without one."  Her eyebrow raised a 
millimeter, and he grinned.  "You wouldn't brush the snow 
out of my hair if I had on a hat."

She snatched her hand away just a touch too fast and shot 
him a look.  "Mulder, ninety percent of your body heat..."

"...escapes through the top of your head," he finished with 
her.  "Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Excuse me, Dr. Scully, is your 
Inner Child at home?  Can she come out and play?"

She fought back a smile and waved him inside.  "Scully, 
you're going to freeze to death in that."  She was wearing 
jeans and a sweatshirt -- he appeared to be ready for an 
arctic expedition.

"Not if I don't go outside -- which, the news reports tell 
me, is the best thing to do on a day like today."  She held 
out her hand for his parka and was met with his patented 
MulderPout.  "You had something else in mind?"

"Let me guess.  You spent your entire childhood in San Diego 
and have no idea what a snow day is."

"For your information, Mulder, we spent plenty of winters in 
the northeast and I know perfectly well what a snow day is."

"Then you know that snow days are meant to be enjoyed 
*outside*."  He turned her around, toward her bedroom, and 
shoved gently.  "Now go get changed."

With Scully more properly dressed, they emerged from her 
apartment building to find another two inches of snow on his 
car -- and a two-foot drift blocking it in, courtesy of the 
City of Georgetown's Street Maintenance Department.

"Looks like we're not going anywhere after all, Mulder."

He took her hand and pulled her away from the car.  "Who 
said we were planning to drive?"

She stopped, tugging on his hand until he turned to face 
her.  "Mulder, you can't be serious.  It's twenty-seven 
degrees out here."

"We've survived worse, Scully.  More than a few times."  He 
smiled, traced a gloved finger along her cheek.  "Come on.  
It'll be fun."

She returned his smile, secretly delighted to see this side 
of him.  He'd kept it too well hidden from her over the last 
seven years.  "So where we goin'?"

She was rewarded with a rare full smile, teeth and 
everything.  He pulled her along, and hand-in-hand they 
tromped through the snow to a nearby park.  About a dozen 
school kids had gotten there ahead of them and were already 
engaged in a vigorous snowball fight.  Mulder grinned and 
tried to pull her toward the battlefield, but Scully dug in 
her heels.

"Mulder, you are *not* gonna drag me into a snowball fight!"

"*Fun*, Scully!  Remember fun?"

"Getting hit in the face by a snowball isn't..."  Just then 
she *was* hit -- not in the face, but close enough.  Mulder 
let go of her and she fell on her ass, a look of shock on 
her face.

From the battlefield came a small voice.  "Sorry, lady!"

Mulder shot her a grin and started to back away.  "Sorry, 
lady," he laughed, then turned and ran to join the kids.

Scully stared daggers at her retreating partner and 
struggled to her feet.  "You *better* run, Mulder, 'cause 
your ass is *mine*!"

"Language, Scully!" he called without turning around.  If he 
had, the snowball would've hit him square in the chest.

The kids seemed to welcome the bigger targets, and the 
grown-ups weren't shy about nailing the kids with a few 
well-thrown bombs, but Mulder and Scully concentrated most 
of their firepower on each other.  At one point Scully snuck 
up on her partner while he and two of the older boys were 
engaged in a skirmish, and Mulder found himself on the 
receiving end of a huge slushy mass right in the ear.

Scully laughed, tried to run -- but between the deepening 
snow and his long legs, he quickly tackled her.  They 
tumbled to the ground, Mulder on top of her, shoving snow 
down her collar.  She was giggling, halfheartedly 
struggling, when suddenly they both noticed that he was 
*right there* -- hovering above her, looking deep into her 
eyes.  Before either of them knew it was happening, his lips 
were on hers.

They hadn't kissed since that first time on New Year's Eve.  
That kiss had been gentle, almost chaste.  This kiss... this 
kiss was different.  More.  Questing.  Demanding.  Full of 
passion and promise.

Their mouths joined, their tongues exploring, they lay 
together in the snow until they heard laughter and a voice 
from somewhere nearby.

"Jeez, mister, get a room!"

They broke the kiss then, and an embarrassed Scully brought 
a hand to her face.  Mulder just laughed and got up.  "Can't 
a guy kiss his best girl in peace?"

He pulled Scully to her feet and held her close.  She gave 
him a look.  "Best girl?"

"*Only* girl."  Another look.  "Woman."

"That's better."  She glanced around and saw that the kids 
had lost interest and wandered off.  "Looks like we lost our 
battalion."

"Who needs 'em?"  He leaned in and kissed her again.  
"Thanks for coming out to play with me."

"Thanks for forcing me."  He frowned a little, but she 
smiled.  "This was fun."

Mulder gasped.  "She said the 'f' word!"

Mock-indignant, Scully punched him.  "I know how to have 
fun."

"I'm sure you do, Scully.  I just don't get to see it that 
often."

She stepped back, out of his embrace, but grinned and held 
onto his hand.  "Funny.  I was thinking the same about you."

He started to protest, then sighed.  "Yeah, I guess we're 
both just a couple of sticks in the mud."

They walked through the park in comfortable silence until 
they reached the swings.  The snow was almost up to the 
canvas seats, but Scully was undaunted.  She brushed one of 
them off and stood on it.  Mulder stood behind her, which 
put him just slightly shorter than her.  He put his hands on 
her waist and gave her a gentle shove.  He did it again as 
she pumped, the rusty snow-covered chains groaning in 
protest.

"I wasn't always a stick in the mud, you know.  I was a fun 
kid.  A tomboy, even.  Been in *lots* of snowball fights 
before today.  Won most of them, too."

"Bet Bill was a formidable ally in a snowball fight."

"I wouldn't know.  Bill and Charlie always ganged up on 
Missy and me."

"Boys against the girls?  That's heinous."

"Ahab thought so, too.  That's why he always fought on our 
side."

Mulder laughed.  "So you had an unfair advantage."

"Just evening the odds."

He made his way around in front and caught her on the 
downswing.  They stood together for a moment, his hands on 
her waist, hers on his shoulders.  She smiled, looking down 
at him.  "I like this.  Being taller than you."

"Evening the odds?"

She just smiled again, leaned down to kiss him.  They 
tightened the embrace, deepened the kiss.  When they ended 
it, breathless, they stayed close and she nuzzled his face.

"Your nose is cold.  We should get back."

He tightened his arms around her and lifted her off the 
swing.  He set her down and she looked up at him, groaning.  
"I hate being so damn short."

"I think we fit together well, Scully."  He rested his chin 
on top of her head, stretching because she was wearing a 
hat.  "See?"

Scully laughed and disentangled from him, pulling him along.  
They walked in silence again, arms linked, headed in the 
general direction of her apartment building.  "So Mulder.  
Is this how you spend all your snow days?"

"Some of 'em."  He didn't say anything for a minute, then 
went on.  "I remember one time, Samantha had just turned 
six.  First grade.  She was into school big time.  Her first 
snow day, she actually *cried* when she found out we weren't 
going to school."  Another pause.  He slowed their pace as 
they neared the monkey bars.  "We had a big hill out back of 
our house -- perfect for sledding.  So I dragged her outside 
to play..."  He cast a sidelong glance at Scully.  "...sort 
of like I did with you."

She smiled and let go of his arm, then climbed onto the 
monkey bars.  The snow reached almost up to the lowest 
level.  Mulder climbed up to join her and they stood there 
side by side, pulling on the crossbars and swaying.  After a 
moment, he continued his story.

"Dad had just bought us a brand-new Flexible Flyer.  He 
hadn't been around much that fall -- his way of apologizing.  
So Sam and I, we trudged up the hill with our new sled.  
She'd never been on one before, she was a little scared.  I, 
of course, was an expert..."

"Big brothers always are."  He glanced at her and she 
grinned.

"Anyway, I sat her down in front of me and wrapped my arms 
around her, told her it'd be fun, and I pushed off.  We went 
flying down the hill... and she was *screaming*.  God, she 
was so loud, I thought...  I just held on tight, to her, to 
the sled.  When we got to the bottom of the hill, I don't 
know, we must've hit a rock or something, because we rolled... 
We kept rolling over and over and... I couldn't hold on to her.  
When I finally stopped, she... she was a few feet away from 
me, next to a big tree.  She wasn't moving.  I got to her as 
fast as I could and I shook her and yelled at her to wake 
up, come on Sam please wake up..."

He was breathing hard, staring down into the center of the 
monkey bars.  Scully just watched him carefully, not wanting 
to break whatever spell he was under.  She knew he'd be 
okay, that he'd go on when he was ready.

"She just laid there, not moving, for so long...  Then her 
eyes popped open and she had this huge grin on her face and 
she said, 'let's do it again, Fox.'"

Scully started to laugh, and Mulder joined in.  "So I 
smacked her, helped her up and we did it again.  And again, 
and again, and again..."

"You're a good big brother, you know that?"  He shrugged, 
glanced at her, grinned.

Scully stood up straight and smiled, then pushed herself 
backwards.  Mulder reached out to catch her, but his fingers 
closed on nothing but air as she landed on her back.  She 
looked up at him, still smiling.

"Did you ever make snow angels when you were a kid, Mulder?"  
She flapped her arms, her legs.

"Angels?  Me?  Aliens, maybe."

Satisfied with her angel, she stood and smiled up at him.  
"Come on, Mulder, I know you've got an angel in there 
somewhere."

He gave her a look, then stood up straight and pushed off.  
He landed hard, sending up a puff of powdery snow.  He 
didn't move right away, though, and Scully frowned.

"Mulder?"  No response.  She took a step closer.  "Mulder?  
Don't screw around, now..."

Then she saw his grin, and he opened one eye.  She sighed, 
shook her head.  Such a little boy, she thought.  He flapped 
his arms and legs with gusto, both of them laughing.  "How's 
that for an angel?"

"See for yourself."  She held out her hand, helped him up.  
Mulder stepped behind her, wrapped his arms around her and 
rested his head on her shoulder.

"Look, Scully.  Our wings touch."

"How 'bout that."

They stood there together, admiring their handiwork, when 
suddenly he tightened his arms around her and his voice got 
soft.  "I miss her, Scully."

She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned into him.  "I know you 
do."

He took a deep, shaky breath and held her tighter.  "What if 
I never find her?  What if... what if I never find out what 
happened to her?"

"Shh..."  She turned in his arms, brought his head down to 
rest on her shoulder again.  "We'll find her, Mulder.  I 
know we will."

"You and me, huh?"

He raised his head to look at her, and she smiled gently.  
"You and me.  Partners."  She reached up and kissed him 
softly.  "Let's go home."

Arms around each other, they headed back.  As they neared 
her building, she glanced up at him.  "This was always my 
favorite part of a snow day.  Going home."

"How come?"

"Ahab would build a fire, the four of us would troop in and 
strip down to our long-johns, and Mom would make us hot 
cocoa.  None of that instant stuff, either -- the real 
thing.  Milk simmering on the stove, genuine Hershey's 
Cocoa...  We each drank it a different way, too.  Different 
additives."

"Additives?  What would you add to hot chocolate?"

"Hot *cocoa*.  Pay attention, Mulder, there's a difference."

He chuckled softly.  "Sorry.  You were saying?"

She gave him a look, went on.  "Bill drank his straight.  
Real cocoa powder has a slightly bitter taste, and Bill 
thought it made him seem manly."

"Sounds like the Bill Scully I know and love."

"Charlie liked his with marshmallows.  Not the miniature 
kind -- the big ones.  'Cause when they melted this thick 
foam would be over the cocoa."  She laughed.  "He always got 
some on his nose."  Mulder laughed with her.  "Melissa liked 
mint.  The kind of mint that's... I don't know how to describe 
it.  You know those chocolates you buy at restaurants?"

"About an inch long, green on the bottom?"

She nodded.  "That's what Melissa's cocoa tasted like."  He 
smiled, shook his head.  "What?"

"You Scully kids sure were picky."

She bumped him with her hip, and he bumped back.  "We were 
not."

"So how'd you drink your cocoa?  With whipped cream and 
sprinkles?"

"No, silly, that's ice cream.  I like my cocoa with 
cinnamon."

He smiled a little.  "Really?"

"Cinnamon and cocoa are actually very complementary flavors.  
Each one brings out the subtleties of the other."  She 
glanced up at him, saw a faraway look in his eyes.  "What?"

"On cold days like this, Samantha liked hot apple cider.  
Mom would put it on to heat before we'd go outside.  By the 
time we came in, the whole house smelled like... cinnamon 
and nutmeg."  He smiled at the memory.

"Never pegged you for an apple cider kind of guy, Mulder."

"Well, I prefer hot chocolate -- excuse me, *cocoa* -- but 
Sam..."

Scully stopped, turned to face him.  She looked up at him 
with unabashed affection and tenderness.

"What?"

"You're a good man, Fox Mulder.  I think you always have 
been, even when you were a little boy."

Mulder dipped his head shyly, let out a small laugh.  "I 
know a few people who'd argue with you."

"Nobody I'd care to consult."

He looked into her eyes, cupped her face in his gloved 
hands.  "Maybe I just needed a good woman to bring him out."  
He leaned in to kiss her again.

The other kisses they'd shared in the snow ran the gamut 
from quick and friendly to deep and passionate.  This kiss 
was borne of admiration and respect, of the love that true 
friends and comrades share.  When the kiss ended, Scully 
laid her head against his chest and they held each other 
close.

"So Mulder.  How do you drink your cocoa?"

"Marshmallows.  The little ones.  I like to capture them 
with my tongue, let them melt in my mouth."

"Lucky marshmallows."

They shared an easy laugh and went inside.

Divested of their wet boots and outerwear, Mulder started a 
fire while Scully made hot cocoa -- cinnamon in hers, little 
marshmallows in his.

They spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the floor in 
front of the fireplace -- sipping cocoa, holding hands, 
talking about mostly inconsequential things.  Childhood 
memories.  Favorite song.  Favorite game.  Favorite 
Charlie's Angel.

They kissed a little more, too, and touched a little.  They 
didn't speak of love, or commitment, or devotion -- it 
wasn't time yet, and they knew it.  There was so much 
unspoken between them -- those discussions could wait for 
another snow day.

By the time the sun went down they'd fallen asleep, wrapped 
up in the blanket Scully had pulled off the bed, wrapped up 
in each other's arms.  They woke some time later, when the 
phone rang, but decided to let the machine get it.

"Agent Scully, it's Assistant Director Skinner.  I've just 
heard from the Director's office -- we'll be shut down again 
tomorrow.  Nonessential personnel should not report."  There 
was a grunt that might've been a laugh.  "I suppose that 
would be us.  Enjoy your snow day, Agent Scully.  See you 
Thursday."

They didn't get up, didn't acknowledge the message right 
away.  Just lay on the floor together, watching the fire.

"Scully, are we really 'nonessential personnel'?"

"Only as far as the federal government is concerned."  She 
brought a hand up to stroke his face.  "To me, Mulder... 
you are *most* essential."

He smiled.  "Back at ya, G-woman."  She drew him to her, ran 
her fingers through his hair.

"So Mulder.  What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"Think we can find a Flexible Flyer big enough for two?"

"We can certainly try."  She snuggled up close to him.  
"I'll make some hot apple cider... with lots of cinnamon 
and nutmeg..."

He smiled and held her tight, and they both drifted off to 
sleep again.

Outside, the snow continued to fall.

END

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  When I started writing this, it was Tuesday 
afternoon and I was sitting in my Los Angeles apartment 
(where it was 68 degrees and rainy) watching news reports of 
the Blizzard of 2000 that had brought the east coast to its 
knees, wondering what Mulder and Scully might do with an 
unexpected day off.  By the time I finished it was late 
Wednesday night, and the story had become more than the 
little ball of fluff I'd envisioned.  Oh well.  It happens 
that way sometimes.