From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Mon, 25 Jun 2012 06:56:22 -0500 (CDT)
Subject: Strange Things Done (BTC) by Dryad
Source: direct

Reply To: dryad@puritycontrol.co.uk

Disclaimer: Alas, Alack, they are not mine. Yadda, yadda, 
yadda.

Title: Strange Things Done
Author: Dryad
Rating: R
Spoilers: Ice
Archive: yes please. A note where would be nice.
Summary: The Arctic in Eight Moments
Feedback: I like it. hekateris at gmail dot com
Note: Written for Haven's 'Bad Touch' Challenge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Arctic...is a unique and biologically special place that 
should be
preserved.
- Dan Lipinski
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


~*~ 1 ~*~

At first the sun shone at full strength onto the snow, the 
brightness nearly overwhelming the special sunglasses she was 
wearing. The wind was another matter entirely, and she hurried 
behind Mulder to get into the station.

Twenty four hours later Ice Cape had become a trap it would 
seem neither one of them would escape from. On the flight in 
Bear had said it was the calm before the storm and even though 
Scully knew the weather in Alaska could change at a moments 
notice, she still thought Icy Cape was gorgeous.

~*~ 2 ~*~

Hodge was a complete and utter asshole who clearly had a thing
about women in science. Scully disliked him intensely, even 
though up until that point he had done nothing to arouse her 
suspicions.

As for Da Silva, she was the kind of woman Scully would at 
best call an acquaintance, perhaps even only a work colleague. 
No self-respecting woman would let a man treat her like Hodge 
did. She had to make an effort to not treat Da Silva in the 
same way.

~*~ 3 ~*~

She hated Icy Cape.

~*~ 4 ~*~

Sliding down the wall after moving the desk, she let her head 
fall back and then forward against her wrists. Give her a body 
any day over the detritus of a life cut short. Who the hell 
brought wrapped gifts with them the Arctic, anyway? What on 
earth was the point of that?

~*~ 5 ~*~

"In here I'll be safer than you."

Scully stood outside the room she had just locked Mulder into 
and wondered what she was going to do next.

The cold of Icy Cape, the mistrust of the others had 
momentarily distracted her from the dangers inherent in her 
job. Looking back at the closed door she silently berated 
herself for losing focus. This thing could cost Mulder his 
life - her life, too, damnit! Not for the first time, of 
course, but this time more was at stake than the two of them.
Humanity itself which could be lost.

~*~ 6 ~*~

Hodge was still an asshole and Da Silva was still a damp rag, 
albeit one that needed sleep. Who didn't?

~*~ 7 ~*~

She closed her eyes in relief. He was fine, he was going to be 
fine. They could rejoin the others and fight this thing. She 
turned and took a single step forward before she was stopped 
by his hand her shoulder, then splayed wide against her neck. 
With a gasp she stopped, tried to look back but was stopped by 
his gentle hand splayed wide against her neck.

~*~ 8 ~*~

Both of them were trembling from the dreadful combination of
exhaustion and terror, but that wasn't enough to make them 
stop.

Mulder pulled away a little bit without letting her drop. "We 
can't do this here."

"I know," she whispered back, tightening her arms around his 
neck, her legs around his waist. He smelled like fear and 
sweat and familiarity and she didn't know what was going to 
happen outside this moment in time. "Just one more?"

With a soft groan he mashed his lips against hers, losing his 
balance and tipping them against the stacked boxes along one 
wall. Scully rocked her hips against his and for an instant 
wondered at the incongruity of making out with Fox Mulder 
while two people who were ready to kill them stood outside the 
unlocked door.

And just like that, pleasure sheeted through her like 
lightning, leaving her stunned and quivering and later on, in 
the plane, utterly embarrassed.

"Did you just --?"

Letting her legs down, Scully nodded weakly. She began 
readjusting her clothing and after a second Mulder did the 
same. Not looking at him, she said, "Are you ready?"

~*~ fin ~*~


Note: We won't talk about how long it took me to write this. 
Or, as I like to call it, rewriting. The worst part? It all 
came together in the final 12 hours...

Title from Robert Service's 'Cremation of Sam McGee'

hekateris at gmail dot com
www.dazzleships.net/puritycontrol

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