From: Isahunter@aol.com
Date: Thu, 10 Dec 1998 01:18:10 EST
Subject: Househunting 4 (1/1) by Diadem


Title: Househunting 4 (1/1)

Author: Diadem

Rating: G?  Pretty general.

Category: S, H.

Disclaimer: They are not mine.  They belong to CC, Fox, 
10-13, DD and GA.  I am making no money from this, but 
if I did, I would spend it all on XF videos anyway!

Archive: Gossamer, yes, all others let me know.

Notes: OK, I lied!  This is not the last part, but I'm going
as fast as I can!  This story will probably not make 
much sense if you haven't read 1, 2 & 3.  If you want them, 
just let me know!

Dedication: I don't usually dedicate any of my stuff, but 
this one is for Isa: thanks for all your help and encouragement, 
and be assured that the problems are on their way!!

Feedback:  OK, my server is really playing up, so Isa has sent this 
one through for me.  If you hit reply, it will go to her, so you will 
have to type in my address, I'm afraid!  Of course I still want 
feedback, though:  Diadem@cwcom.net    

My old address, Diadem@mcmail.com NO LONGER WORKS!!!


Househunting 4 (1/1)
   By Diadem

It had been a bad idea to paint her bedroom first, Scully 
reflected as she lay on her matress.  The fumes from the 
paint were giving her a headache, and she had to keep coughing
to clear them from her throat.  She would have opened the 
window, but she knew from her training that asphixiation was a 
much quicker death than freezing.  There had been forecasts of 
snow: needless to say, one of the first things Mulder had 
moved in had been his television.
     She rolled over, cursing as her cast bumped aginst her good 
foot.  She coughed again, trying to remember where she had left 
the asprin.  Possibly the kitchen.  But she couldn't be bothered 
to move that far.
     After spending the day stretching to make up for her small 
stature, Scully was sore.  She could have asked Mulder to do the 
ceiling: he would have done, if she had asked.  But she wasn't 
about to give up her independance just because she was living with 
the man.  Living with the man.  It suddenly dawned on her that she 
had never lived with a man before.  Good job it's only Mulder: her 
mother would have a fit if she had decided to move in with anyone 
else of the opposite sex.
     Oh, her head was swimming.  Asprin.  Kitchen.  Movement.  
Less pain.  It was worth it, she decided, as she clambered to her 
feet.
     Entering the kitchen, she wrinkled her nose at the still 
slightly smokey smell of the kitchen. Was there any room in this 
house that didn't smell funny, she asked herself as she reached 
for the cupboard that held the asprin.  Correction, the cupboard 
she had THOUGHT had held the asprin.  Think.  What could have 
happened to it?  The answer was not difficult.  The same thing had 
happened to the asprin as had happened to the rest of the house.  
Mulder.
     She checked all the surfaces, and the rest of the cupboards.  
No luck there.  Resigned, she climbed the stairs once again, and 
trudged into the bathroom.  Not on the sink, not on the window sill, 
not in the cabinet.   Where then?
     There was only one possibility left.  Mulder's room.  She 
pushed the door open gently, not wanting to wake him.  There he 
was, sprawled across his matress, breathing softly.  And next to 
him... the asprin!
     Victory!  Scully was about to shake the little round tablets 
into her hand, when she stopped.  Her headache was gone.  She 
no 
longer felt the desire to cough.  Mulder's room was not filled with 
fumes or smoke or any other vapours.  Sure, it was a little dusty, 
but it was the best she was going to get.
     Crouching by the side of his mattress, she gently poked 
Mulder in the ribs.  "Shove over!" She hissed.  Unconsciously, he 
obliged, grunting as he rolled over.  Gratefully she pulled the 
covers around her shoulders.  What am I doing?  She asked 
herself.  
She could only imagine what kind of teasing she would have to 
suffer in the morning - Mulder just wouldn't be able to resist.  
But it was probably better than getting no sleep.  In the end, 
reason won the battle, and Scully drifted into slumber.

     She woke with an arm slung across her middle.  Mulder.  She 
must have turned in her sleep.  Wondering how best to move 
without 
waking him, she coughed: no doubt an after effect of coughing so 
much the night before.  The arm tightened, and before she knew 
what was happening she was pulled tight against a still un-
conscious Mulder.
     Shifting slightly, she managed to loosen his hold on her.  
Being careful not to jar him, she moved downwards, slipping herself 
out of his embrace, and made a successful escape onto the 
landing.
Only once she was there did she let out the breath she hadn't 
known 
she had been holding.
     Deciding that it was probably safer for her to make breakfast 
herself, she wandered into the kitchen, and filled the kettle.  With 
Mulder still asleep the house was peaceful.  It was kind of pretty, 
she admitted to herself.  It had evidently been beautiful in the past, 
and she was secretly hoping that she could make it look that way 
again.
     She stared out of the window.  She hadn't really looked before, 
but there was a garden.  Only small, and very overgrown, but it too 
could be restored, she decided.  As soon as the house was 
finished.
     It had not snowed the night before, but there was a heavy frost 
covering the ragged plants.  Pulling her robe around her, Scully 
unlocked the back door and stood, taking in the view of the garden. 
 
Mostly the plants were dead, or at least struggling.  But right by 
the wall there was a holly tree, strong and very much alive.  The 
dark green leaves were accentuated by the patches of bright red 
berries.
     She was mulling over the possibilities the tree held regarding 
the upcoming Christmas season when she heard a yelp from 
behind her.  
"Kettle's on, Mulder."  She didn't even bother to turn round.
     "So I noticed."  She heard footsteps approaching from behind 
her.  "Sleep well?"
     "My room was full of paint fumes."  She explained.  "I'd have 
sufficated if I'd stayed in there."
     "It's OK."  He slipped his arms round her waist, rested his 
chin on her shoulder, and stared out at the garden with her.  "I 
just wish I'd known in advance."
     Laughing, she swatted his arm.  "Don't push your luck!"  She 
took hold of his hands.  "It's pretty, isn't it?"
     "Sure is."  She couldn't have known he was looking at her.  
Sighing, she let go and turned back inside, leaving Mulder in the 
doorway.

End

I know, I know, that one was really short.  It's really only an 
interlude while I work on Part 5.  As always, comments to
Diadem@cwcom.net