Title: Snowthunder

Author: Vickie Moseley

Summary: Snow and lightning can make for plenty of thunder.

Rating: E for everyone

Category: Fluff (just like the white stuff that came from the

sky)

Written for the Virtual Season 13 “Lights in the Sky” special

Archive: two week exclusive on VS 13, then anywhere

Disclaimer: Scientific disclaimer: During the Blizzard of ’06, I

don’t know that there was lightning during the snowstorm.

However, it is documented that some parts of Nebraska got

over 20 inches of snow in less than 24 hours. So I figure it had

to have been coming down pretty hard some of that time. If

there wasn’t any lightning, there probably should have been.

Fan fiction disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.

Comments: vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com

Snowthunder

By Vickie Moseley

I-80, Eastbound

100 miles out of Lincoln, NE

March 20, 2006

8:14 pm

“Have you noticed we’re the only car on this road, Mulder,”

Scully ventured to speak after half an hour of silent foreboding.

All around them was white. Not for the first time since they’d

started out that day was she wondering how her partner

managed to keep the car on the road — it all looked like a

blanket of marshmallow fluff to her.

“What time does our plane leave?” he asked, ignoring her

comment.

She looked over at him and noticed his fingers were in a white

knuckled grip on the steering wheel. She felt some relief; at

least he wasn’t oblivious to their precarious situation. But at

the same time, it angered her that he seemed to be pushing on

when reason and common sense would have had them holed

up in some high school gymnasium by now. Only in the

Midwest would there be a blizzard on the first day of spring!

“Scully? Departure time?” he repeated in a low growl.

“Nine forty-five,” she said through clenched teeth. She glanced

at the speedometer. They were crawling along at just over

forty miles an hour, as fast as they dared to go in the slick and

deep snow. “I don’t think we’re going to make our flight,” she

said quietly.

“No, right now I’m just hoping to make Lincoln,” he admitted.

“Maybe we should stop,” she suggested.

He took his eyes off the windshield long enough to give her a

dubious look. “Have you seen an exit sign lately?” he asked

derisively. “Because if you have — ”

She was about to answer, and not very politely, when Mulder

let out a gasp and steering wheel seemed to take on a life of its

own. Mulder fought for purchase against wheels that were

intent upon blazing a new trail, one not in the visions of the

civil engineers who designed the interstate system. The car

spun helplessly, leaving the two occupants slightly seasick.

There was a terrifying second when the world seemed to up-

end and then just as quickly, the car stopped, windshield now

pointing at a 45-degree angle to the horizon.

The only good thing about spinning out and sliding into a ditch

in a blizzard was the fact that it tended to include a soft

landing. Since both agents were wearing their seatbelts, and

the car’s front end was pointing upwards, thus avoiding any

airbag deployment, injuries were of a more emotional nature.

It took Scully a few moments to calm her pounding heart and

work the kink out of her neck enough to look over at her

partner. He was staring straight out the windshield, his panic

look firmly in place.

“Mulder?” she ventured, but one look and she knew it was not

the time to speak. They sat in strained silence for a few

minutes and then Mulder seemed to gather his inner resources

and look over at her.

“Cell phone?” he asked.

She dug through her purse, pulling the phone out and clicking

the on button. She chewed on her lip. “No Service,” she said

sheepishly.

“A hundred miles out of Lincoln and they don’t have cell

towers,” he stormed, then just as suddenly, he took a deep

breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Sorry. I know that’s

not your fault.”

“Mulder, I’m sure they have trucks out. Someone is bound to

find us,” she offered.

“Scully,” he said, licking his lips. “While you were asleep a little

while ago — ”

She frowned at him. Then, she realized something. The radio

was off. Mulder’s constant companion on any long car ride —

any oldies station he could find. When she’d fallen asleep after

the last fill-up, the radio had been on. Now, the car was silent.

“Mulder, why did you turn off the radio?”

” — and you know how these state troopers are, always closing

this or that with the first snowflake — ”

“Mulder, what was on the radio that caused you to turn it off?”

she demanded, fear now gripping her chest tightly.

“They closed the interstate,” he blurted out. “About two hours

ago.”

She looked at him with confusion. “How could they — ”

“They said the storm is right over the I-80 corridor. It’s stalled.

But see, I knew we were only about 150 miles from Lincoln and

I figured that we could make 150 miles easy and if it got bad

we could pull over in some little town along the way — ”

“They closed the interstate and you kept going?” she clarified,

her voice taking on a particularly shrill tone.

“I didn’t think — ”

“Well, that’s sure as hell painfully obvious,” she shot back.

Suddenly the sky was lit in all directions and almost

immediately a clap of thunder shook the car and rolled for

several seconds.

“Scully — ”

“We’re in big trouble,” she answered.

“Doesn’t that mean — ”

“Very heavy snowfall. Yes. Sometimes as much as 3 or more

inches an hour,” she finished his sentence. “Mulder, we’ll be

buried.”

The next flash seemed to surround the car and the thunder

roared and rolled even louder. “It’s right over head,” she said.

“Really? I was sort of hoping it was going to be one of those

times when we ‘lose nine minutes’,” he tried to joke. She

wasn’t buying it. “OK, serious conditions here.”

“Turn off the car,” Scully said suddenly.

“Scully, we need the heat — ”

“Carbon monoxide, Mulder. The exhaust pipe is surely clogged

with snow at this point. We can’t risk it.”

He nodded reluctantly and in a second the engine stopped but

the car lights stayed on, running off the car battery. “What

provisions do we have?” he asked.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and crawled into the back seat. In

a few minutes, she’d pulled down one section of the backseat to

reveal the interior of the trunk. It took some pulling and one

nail was lost to the cause, but before long she had both their

suitcases and briefcases lying out in the back. She zipped open

first Mulder’s case and started handing him articles of clothing.

“Layers, lots of layers.”

“Of all times to forget my sleeping bag,” he pouted, but did as

she ordered. It wasn’t easy for him to get his sweatpants on

while sitting at the steering wheel, but soon they were both

layered to the point it was difficult to move.

“Scully, not to be a worry wart, but how much air do you think

we have in here?” Mulder asked, noting that the windows were

now covered with snow.

“We should have enough for a while. Snow doesn’t pack down

that hard. If it gets stuffy, we can make a hole with the ice

scraper out the window,” she suggested. She crawled back into

the front seat and started to rummage around the floorboards,

smiling triumphantly when her search was successful.

“Hungry?” she asked. In her hand were a bag of sunflower

seeds and a 32 oz. bottle of water.

“So that’s what you were doing inside while I was pumping the

gas,” he said with an answering smile. He took the seeds and

tore open the package with his teeth. After pouring out a

handful he handed the bag back to her. “So, I guess this

means you really do love me, huh?”

She smiled at him and shook her head. “Guess so,” she

agreed.

The lightning flashed around them, the thunder seemed to

shake the car for hours, even though it was only a couple of

seconds. Mulder reached over and took Scully’s hand, noting

how cool it was. To his dismay he also found it was trembling.

Drastic times called for drastic action.

“Hey, we might not have sleeping bags, but nothing says we

have to stay in the front seat,” he suggested with wiggling

eyebrows. “C’mon.” He dropped her hand and climbed

between the bucket seats. When he was settled the back, he

patted his lap. “Hey, good lookin’ — wanna neck?”

She couldn’t help herself, she burst out in giggles. “‘Neck’,

Mulder?”

“Yeah, well, we live together, we share a bed, but when was

the last time we necked in the backseat of a car, Scully?” he

asked playfully.

“Mulder, we’re stuck in a ditch in the middle of a blizzard on a

closed road that no one is going to travel down for days — and

for your information we have NEVER ‘necked’ in the backseat of

a car!” she exclaimed, but before he could apologize, she was

sitting in his lap. “Hi there,” she said coyly.

“Hi,” he replied back, giving her the shy smile she found so

endearing.

“So, how do we go about this ‘necking’ stuff,” she asked,

batting her eyes for effect.

He chuckled and leaned forward. “Well, if I remember correctly

— what I’ve read, mind you — you kinda start like this . . . ”

The lightning had moved on from overhead, but every once in a

while the car still shook with the sound of thunder. The car was

shaking for other reasons, as well and the two people in the car

need not have worried about keeping warm. The windows were

fogged and sweating. It was just starting to get interesting,

from Mulder’s point of view, while he tired to figure out the best

way to remove the three layers of sweatpants and dress pants

he was encased in, when Scully froze.

After a minute, he noticed she wasn’t returning his favors and

started to get worried. “What? What is it?”

“Isn’t it awfully bright in here?” she asked. She barely had the

words out of her mouth when the car started to shake violently,

sending her sliding off Mulder’s lap to land on the back of the

seat.

It was bright, very bright and the shaking had turned into

movement. He grabbed for her to keep her from tumbling any

farther because the car was slowly being dragged up the side of

the ditch. Without warning, it stopped.

They looked at each other in terrified silence until there was a

pounding on the driver’s side window. Muffled by the wind,

Mulder thought he heard someone yelling.

He scrambled to get into the driver’s seat and unlock the door.

Shoving against the now frozen lock, he finally got the door

open and was greeted by a wide-eyed young state trooper.

“Thank God,” the trooper said, shaking his head. “Are you

alone?” A beam of light was flashed around the car, finally

landing on Scully, still in the back seat.

“Um, no,” Mulder said, although he realized it was a moot

point. “My partner — ah, we’re with the FBI, we were trying to

get to Lincoln — ”

“Well, this car will never make it there under these conditions.

C’mon, I think there’s room in the truck cab. We’ll take you to

the nearest town and you can pick up your car when the

weather breaks.”

Kearney, NE

10:45 pm

It had been a long and near silent ride to the neighboring city

of Kearney. Mulder couldn’t help but notice the grins that were

exchanged between the trooper and the state highway

department truck driver, but both men were polite enough not

to laugh out loud in the agents’ presence. He just hoped they

weren’t the type to write letters to their Congressman.

Scully’s face still burned bright red in the light of the dash.

Whether from the wind beating it had taken while they moved

from stranded vehicle to state truck, or from the rather

compromising position they’d been found in — Mulder would not

even venture to guess. But he was pretty sure she wasn’t

speaking to him. For that matter, he was just a little afraid

they might live their lives with her never speaking to him again.

It certainly didn’t help matters that she had to sit in her

partner’s lap for the ride, since room was indeed limited.

When they arrived in Kearney, they were taken to the high

school where the Red Cross had set up a shelter in the gym.

Cots were assigned, along with blankets and pillows. Coffee,

hot chocolate, tea and snack foods were in plentiful supply.

After the initial rush, they were able to make their way back to

their cots and settle in for the night.

The silent treatment was killing him. As Scully took off her

shoes and prepared to lie down with her back toward him,

Mulder couldn’t take it anymore.

“OK, I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry,” he blurted out,

probably a little too loudly.

She rolled over and eyed him critically. He did his best to look

contrite. In fact, he looked pretty darned miserable. She sat

up on her cot and rested her arms on her drawn up knees. “Do

you even know why you’re apologizing?” she asked with one

raised eyebrow.

“For not stopping when the road was closed, for not pulling

over when it got really hard to see, for making us miss our

plane, for trying to seduce you in the middle of a blizzard — ”

At her harsh look he lowered his voice. “Well, for _almost_

seducing you in the middle of a blizzard.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not mad at you, Mulder.”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “You sure could have

fooled me,” he shot back.

She looked at him again, this time with a bland expression.

“Mulder, in all the time we’ve been together, how do I usually

express my disgruntlement with you?”

“You yell at me. You slam things. You get this little wrinkle

right in the middle of your forehead and you give me the death

glare that never fails to turn my bowels liquid.”

She snorted. “Nice image, thank you,” she said dryly. “Mulder,

have I done any of those things tonight?”

He thought for a moment and then slowly shook his head. “No.

You haven’t. Which is what has me so scared,” he admitted.

“I’m afraid I’ve really screwed things up this time.”

Her soft chuckle should have given him some comfort, but it

only confused him more. “OK, then why have you been giving

me the cold shoulder since we were rescued?”

She leaned over and grabbed his shirt collar, since he’d long

since dispensed with his tie. She pulled him over so that he

was only inches from her face. “I’ve been trying to figure out

how the hell we’re going to find someplace dark, quiet and

_deserted_ in this school full of refugees so that I can finish

having my way with you.” She smiled at him and gave him a

small shove so that he landed on his own cot.

His grin was first delight and then deviousness. He looked

around, carefully surveying their surroundings. “There has to

be a janitor’s closet around here somewhere.”

Outside, the thunder boomed.

the end.