Author's Notes: Yes, I wrote this on the train. So sue me. (For once, I think, no one's going to ask me "Where did you get the idea for this?")

Summary: It's a thirteen hour train ride and Mulder bores easily. Heaven help Scully.

Spoilers: Very small for The Unnatural, Dreamland II. Takes place sometime in late Season 6.

On The Train
Rated PG-13
By Suzanne L. Feld

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

Mulder grinned down at his partner, unrepentant. They stood on a long, narrow Amtrak train platform in Toledo, OH surrounded by a good two dozen or more fellow travelers, many of them probably from cancelled flights as well. Hard, tiny pellets of snow swirled around them in the darkness, plinking lightly off the long silver and blue train they were lined up to board. "Aw, c'mon, Scully, it'll be fun," he cajoled, gently nudging her upper arm with his elbow. "Have you ever taken the train cross-country?"

"Once, for our senior class trip. However, it was in a sleeping car, unlike our seats on this trip. I am not looking forward to this, Mulder. I've heard stories about how difficult it is to sleep or move around in coach, and it's a thirteen-hour ride."

"We've got our books and travel games and your laptop, and each other to keep company," he said, undaunted. "Besides, you agreed that it's possible we could miss Thanksgiving if we waited for a flight out with this weather. We were lucky to be able to get seats at all, you know, and it could be an X-File if we manage to get them together."

"Lucky is not the word I'd have used," Scully muttered as the line began to move, but she held her peace after that. Mulder was like a child, excited and happy, whereas she was dreading this trip. But she did have to agree that it was better than missing her mom's turkey and stuffing while stuck for countless days in a cheap motel in Monroe, Michigan where they'd just finished up an unsuccessful X-File; funny he should mention that, she thought. An investigation into how they'd managed to find seats together on a crowded train right before the holidays would probably be better received than the one they'd come out here for. Skinner was going to hit the ceiling, she knew, when he saw the expense report for an investigation into a haunted septic pond. Just thinking about it gave her a headache. "And that remains to be seen. At any rate, I wish the sleepers hadn't been sold out."

Mulder got on first and helped lift her suitcase from the platform to the train while she shouldered the heavy laptop case and ascended the narrow staircase into the car. He led the way down the dimly lit aisle between the gray and blue seats, getting more worried by the moment as it seemed like every one was taken; seating was not assigned like an airplane, but he had been told they'd be able to sit together when he'd made the reservation, and was going to make sure they did. Most of the people they passed were sleeping, not unusual since it was nearly three a.m. and the train had originated in Chicago. "We're going to the next car," he called back to her, hitting the door release so it slid back, and walking between the cars on the enclosed metal platform.

Here they were in luck; other than a large group of Mennonites or Amish—he never could tell the difference—settling in at the front of the car, the rest was nearly empty. He got them seats near the back, close to the restrooms, and effortlessly heaved both of their suitcases into the overhead rack. Scully took the window seat first without asking, but both knew they'd be switching off during the trip.

By the time he got settled in the car was nearly full, though most were single people in a double seat. Scully was already curled in her corner, the leg and foot rests of her seat pulled out as well as the back reclined so that she could stretch out comfortably since there was a good amount of leg room between the seats. She'd left her book and laptop in the overhead compartment since she'd told him that she had plans to do nothing more than sleep until it got light out.

There was plenty of leg room for not-tall people, Mulder thought with some annoyance as he pushed his feet into the aisle. It was much better than cattle-car airline seats but still not enough for his lanky six-foot frame. He tried turning sideways towards Scully but the leg rest of her seat banged into his knees, and when he put his seat back he had nowhere to go with his long legs.

"Mulder, quit fidgeting. We'll change places; I see the problem. You can stretch out sideways and I'll put my legs over yours. Good thing I wore slacks."

"Thanks Scully," he said gratefully, not hiding it. Sometimes it didn't hurt to let her know that he appreciated her… when he thought of it, that was. Which he had been more and more, matter of fact.

They got up and shuffled around, finally ending up with Mulder leaning back against the window with an Amtrak-provided foam pillow behind his head, his suit jacket as well as trench coat wadded up behind his back to protect it from the rather blunt arm rest. Both leg rests were pushed up to support their legs, and he had his crosswise towards the aisle with Scully's knees bent over his. There were no armrests between the seats, which she thought might be odd if you sat with a stranger, but it worked well in this situation. She relaxed into in her fully reclined seat, touching him nowhere but their legs, and closed her eyes with a tired sigh. Though it looked a bit awkward, both of them were fairly comfortable and settled down to sleep as much as they could as the train began to move silently and smoothly away from the station.

* * *

She woke warm, comfortable, and curled against a hard male body. For a few seconds she just let herself enjoy it and didn't try to figure out what was going on despite the swaying she felt. Then a familiar baritone voice spoke close and softly into her ear, puffing warm air into it and causing her to shiver in a way that had nothing to do with being ticklish. "Wakey-wakey, G-woman, I need to get out," he said gently, almost sensuously into her left ear. "Sorry to wake you, but I really have no choice at this point."

Scully found that she was tucked beneath his right arm which was curled around her shoulders, leaning against him and touching from hip to shoulder, her legs still over his. "Mulder, how did this happen?" she said groggily, reluctantly pulling herself away using the armrest on the outside of the seats. Though she'd never admit it to him, waking cuddled together like that had been really nice. "Getting a little familiar, aren't you?"

"You snuggled up to me, Scully," he said with no malice, lowering the leg rest on his side and she followed suit so he could stand up and move out into the aisle, holding onto the tall seat back. "Not that I minded, but don't blame me for it."

She huffed but didn't reply, standing in the lightly swaying aisle and straightening her clothes as he strode away towards the restrooms just a few feet away at the back of the car. This time she took the inside and by the time he returned, she had gone back to sleep curled against the window. With a heartfelt sigh Mulder stretched his legs into the aisle, crossed his arms, and mourned the loss of his pillow and coats which she now rested against.

* * *

She woke sometime later and the train wasn't moving; a glance out the window showed that they were at a station, though not which one. It was still dark, but a look at her watch showed that it was close to dawn. Looking the other way she found Mulder beside her sitting with his arms folded, head down and eyes open, frowning, knees bent so they'd fit in the space between the seats and his feet weren't sticking out in the aisle. He was the very picture of dejection. "What's wrong?" she rasped and then cleared her throat, sitting up from the slumped position she'd gravitated to while asleep and rotating her head so her neck would pop and relieve the pressure of having slept with her head to one side.

"Nothing," he said with an attitude and tone the belied his words.

Scully decided to give him one more chance before she began ignoring his whiney mood. She had choices; going back to sleep or reading or pulling out her laptop was preferable to putting up with her partner in full sulk. "Either tell me or bite the bullet, Mulder. Last chance."

"I'm just kinda cold, you've got my jacket and coat over there," he pointed out sullenly. Sure enough, he was dressed only in his button-down shirt with tie hanging loose, and suit pants. They'd both taken their shoes off earlier and she noted that he hadn't put his back on yet; apparently he'd walked to the bathroom at the back of the car earlier in his stocking feet.

"Well, dammit, why didn't you wake me up and get them?" she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. God, he was such a child sometimes! Leaning forward, she reached back and found his London Fog next to her and pulled it out as he reached behind her for the suit jacket. Just then the train began to pull out of the station; while that was normally a fairly smooth operation, this time there was a jolt and a bang and Scully ended up thrown sideways and back against Mulder, who wrapped both arms around her to hold her steady so she didn't slide to the floor from her precarious perch on the edge of the seat.

She turned her head to the right to find his face only millimeters from hers, his eyes intense and parted lips soft and inviting. For a split second, totally without thinking and acting only on instinct, she began to lean forward to kiss him, then her mind shrieked what are you doing. However, by then it was too late; Mulder had closed the gap between them and was kissing her.

Scully froze in shock; she had not seen this coming. His kiss was firm but not demanding, gentle rather than rough. He parted his lips and caressed hers with them, but didn't bring his tongue into play or attempt to deepen the kiss any further. It was far more than the New Year's kiss a few months ago, but nowhere near what she suspected the hallway kiss might have been if not for that damned bee.

While she was immobile, he broke this kiss with a last lingering caress of his mouth on hers then let go of her, leaning back into his seat with both coats in his hands. "That was nice," he said in a very deliberately featureless voice.

"Why'd you do it?" she blurted unthinkingly, sliding back into her seat as the train began to pick up speed.

He shrugged, a tiny smile playing around those sensual lips. "Seemed like a good idea the time."

She narrowed her eyes at him, folding her arms across her chest. "Because I'm a woman and nearby?"

Why did she always do this? Mulder wondered, fighting back his temper. Every time he went to make a move on her, she deflected him by acting like she was nothing more than a convenient female, that he didn't want her, Dana Scully, to the exclusion of everything and everyone else.

"Scully, there are a lot of women on this train right now but you're the only one I would have kissed," he said, low, while leaning forward and shrugging into his wrinkled suit jacket. "You can't tell me you think that I'd have just planted one on any of the females nearby. Besides, I've wanted to kiss you again for a long time."

In for a penny, in for a pound, Scully thought. "Then why didn't you kiss me again after last New Year's Eve?" she challenged.

His brows went up and he stared at her in surprise. Sometimes he thought he'd imagined that sweet little kiss; she'd never given any sign that she'd liked it or disliked it or even wanted to remember it. He shrugged, deciding that honesty was the best policy. "Between your response to that and what I said to you after my adventure in the Bahamas, I didn't think you were interested in me that way."

Now it as her turn to shoot the eyebrows up. "We're not going to get into that again, are we?"

"Get into what?" he kept his voice low, leaning closer.

"What… what you said. I told you before that I'd never hold you to something you said while on morphine."

"And I've told you before that even though I was a bit doped up, I knew exactly what I was saying and feeling. Why don't you believe me?" he asked, frustrated.

"Because we're work partners, we face life and death situations every day. You are the closest friend I've ever had; I'm closer to you than I've been to any man other than my father, I think. It's easy to get attached and think—"

"Scully." He turned as much as he could in the seat to face her so she could see his face in the pale dawning light outside the windows when he interrupted her. He put one hand on her upper left arm, which she had resting across her lap, but didn't grip it tightly knowing she'd probably pull away if he did. "Listen to me. Let me make this clear for once and for all." He made sure he had her attention, her wide blue eyes staring back at him almost fearfully. Keeping his voice low but speaking clearly enough that she had no choice to see that he meant it, holding her eyes with his even as he reached over and put a gentle hand on her other forearm, he said, "I am in love with you, Dana Scully. It's not friendship love or partner attachment or the Florence Nightingale syndrome or anything other than what it is, and that's a true and abiding romantic love between a man and a woman. Scully, you are everything I have ever wanted and needed in a life partner and just never knew it. You are everything I told you once before: my constant, my touchstone, you keep me honest; on top of that you are the most incredible person I have ever met. You're stunningly beautiful but not conceited, strong in every way imaginable, and deserve the respect you get from everyone around you.

"If you don't feel the same way about me I can live with that, Scully. What I can't live with is not letting you know how I feel any longer, and I'd like to know how you feel about me if you'll put me out of my misery."

God, he'd made a speech, finally told her how he'd felt with no plans beforehand to do so. Right here on an Amtrak train as the sun rose behind a blanket of thick white clouds and filtered through blowing snow, rocketing along in Ohio or Pennsylvania or wherever in the hell they were at the moment. He really had no idea where all this had come from out of the blue, but knew deep down that it really was about damn time.

She bit her full lower lip, eyes suspiciously bright. "Aren't the soliloquies supposed to be my domain?"

"We can switch places again if it makes you feel better."

Still feeling a bit reckless and figuring she had nothing to lose, she decided to stick with the truth. Holding his eyes and keeping her voice equally low, Scully heaved a sigh then said, "I don't want to love you as anything other than a friend, Mulder, but God knows I can't help myself anymore either. You are not the man that I would have chosen for myself, but you're the love of my life and I can't deny it any more either."

His jaw fell briefly, heart jolted at her words and it took him a minute to realize that he had heard her correctly. He began to feel dizzy then realized that he wasn't breathing, and took a deep breath. Passing out when Scully was finally telling him how she felt was not the way to react to her declaration, he suspected, if he wanted her to take him seriously.

"We are so different, Mulder, for all that we're united on your quest for the truth. A romantic relationship will make us or break us, truly bring us together or tear us totally apart for good. Are you ready for that?"

He lifted the hand he had on her forearm and cupped the side of her face, but made no other move. "I've been ready for a long time, Scully. Just waiting on you."

She gave him one of her mysterious and beautiful little close-mouthed smiles, cupping his hand and rubbing her cheek on it as her eyes held his. "Then why don't we make a date for the day after Thanksgiving."

"Our first real date?" he smiled back, his heart lifting.

She nodded. "My place. Dinner, and whatever else happens, happens. No strings, no expectations, no worries. Let's just see where this takes us. Sound good?"

His eyes went from happy to intense and aroused in a matter of moments; the suddenly intense, loving look he was giving her caused her to catch her breath. "Sounds good indeed," he breathed in return, sliding his hand out from under hers to wrap it gently but firmly around the back of her neck beneath her hair, bringing his other hand up to meet it on the other side. "If you don't want me to kiss you again, Scully, you'd better—"

"Mulder, would you shut up for once?"

He grinned down at her then did as asked, leaning forward and meeting her halfway.

* * *

"'Kleenex' is a brand name, which is not an allowed word," Scully said, shaking her head. "You know better than that, Mulder."

He shrugged, giving her a crooked grin before looking down at the travel Scrabble game again. "Worth a try, and with the double word score I would have kicked your—"

"But you didn't get it, and I'm winning by a comfortable margin," she said smugly as he removed the six letters from the board. She turned to look out the window as he studied the tiles on the tray in front of him.

Pennsylvania was flying by, distant mountains soft and misty in the light snow that drifted down. It was just a few hours past dawn; they'd had breakfast in the dining car, each read for a while, now she was kicking his ass in Scrabble. But it was difficult to concentrate when all she could think of was the kisses they'd shared, the way he'd looked at her, the things they'd both said, and how her heart jumped every time she thought about any of it. She felt sixteen again, only this was better because she was old enough to truly enjoy it. Though all they'd done was kiss, things had gotten a little steamy between them and it was by silent agreement that they'd stopped and gone to breakfast. Though the train seats had high enough backs that no one could see them unless they walked by in the aisle, she didn't want to risk anyone seeing them doing anything but kissing.

He ended up making 'keener', then she laid down 'fringe' over the 'n' with a triple letter score on the 'g' that popped her score even higher past his. One of the best things about playing games with Mulder, Scully thought, was that he wasn't a sore loser, nor did he ever let her win. They were pretty well matched in most things, though Mulder tended to beat her more often in chess and board games, whereas she was better at anything to do with language or drawing.

His next word was "premiere", which got him within ten points of her score, and took the last three tiles. They did three and four letter words from there on in until running out; Scully didn't gloat, but mentally notched another tick in her win column although it ended up being closer than she liked.

Mulder made a run to the snack bar two cars away, bringing back a Diet Coke for each of them, a bag of hot chips for himself and a Rice Krispy Treat bar for Scully. "How'd you know I like these?" she asked, unwrapping the sticky treat. "I don't let myself have them very often."

"Observation, Scully, nothing gets by me," he said smugly, dipping red-powdered fingers back into the small bag of chips. "I am a trained investigator, as you so well know. That, and you missed your shot at the waste basket last week."

"I feel so much better knowing you're monitoring my caloric intake."

"Better a Rice Krispy Treat than that—"

"If you bring up that damn Tofutti Rice Dreamsicle once more time, Mulder, I may have to hurt you."

"I was gonna say bee pollen. Hey, ouch!"

"That's just as bad."

With the Scrabble game set aside and snacks consumed Scully settled back in her seat, relaxing and adjusting the flat foam pillow behind her head. Mulder settled down next to her, turned on his side facing her with his legs curled against the footrest. He tugged his London Fog over his shoulder so that it partly covered her as well, letting one hand settle gently on her thigh beneath it.

She turned her head and looked at him, but he had his eyes closed and appeared as peaceful as a sleeping child with his cheek against the seat. The innocent appearance did not fool her, however, and she was braced for whatever came next. So when the hand began to move, she wasn't the least bit surprised. She did, however, wait to see just where this hand was about to go, just what kind of liberties he thought he might be able to take with her after just a couple of kisses.

But to her relief he only curled his hand around her waist and snuggled closer, resting his chin on her shoulder and kissing the side of her neck briefly before settling down. His cheek rasped against her jaw with a day's growth of beard, causing her to shiver but not with displeasure. "What do you say we take a nap?" he murmured, already sounding half asleep. "This time we can snuggle for real."

Though it was barely noon, she didn't have the heart to turn him down; it did sound nice even if she wasn't sleepy. She'd sit here and enjoy his warmth and nearness for a bit, then get her book and read while he dozed.

Ten minutes later they were both sound asleep and rocking with the gentle motion of the train, Mulder's head on her shoulder and Scully's cheek against the top of his dark head. When the conductor came by to announce lunch a short time later he didn't have the heart to wake them.

* * *

"Damn but you smell good." The gravelly voice was her partner's, but closer than she'd ever heard it before. It was right next to her ear, in fact, but before she could pull away, his hand tightened on her waist. "Don't move… this feels nice," he rasped, sliding his other arm around her back and pulling her closer.

"What're you doing, Mulder?" she murmured sleepily, but let him hold her. She turned her head and found her face in his hair, which smelled of his wonderful natural musk and the no-nonsense shampoo he used. "Mmn, you smell good too," she said without thinking.

The speaker overhead crackled to life. "Next stop Harper's Ferry, West Virginia… next stop, Harper's Ferry. Ten minutes."

"How long did we sleep?" Mulder said, sounding more awake and quite surprised. "We're almost there."

They both sat up, letting go of the other reluctantly. Looking around, Mulder noted that the car was now almost half empty; apparently many people had gotten off while they were sleeping and the only seats still occupied were in front of them. Just then a conductor walked by and he asked how long it would be to D. C. Smiling at the handsome, tousled couple with sleep-marks on their faces, he allowed that it would be about an hour and that they were running forty minutes or so early.

"We'd better get our stuff together," Scully said, pointing out the Scrabble game that still sat on the pull-out tray. "And it's my turn to use the restroom."

"Ah, the mysterious female bathroom rituals," Mulder said as he rose, then paused to stretch with his hands braced against the overhead rack.

"It's the same thing you do, only with different plumbing," she said with a small grin, trying not to stare at the strip of golden skin exposed on one side when his dress shirt rode up and suit jacket flapped open.

"No, I meant all that primping and floofing you girls do in there," he said, giving her ass a surreptitious caress as she squeezed out in front of him.

She laughed as she walked away, and he heard "floofing?" waft back over her shoulder as she disappeared through the bathroom doorway, the heavy metal door sliding shut behind her.

He mused on how amazing it was that their romantic relationship had begun, of all places, on a cross-country train ride. He thought of all the times he'd tried to make himself do exactly what he'd done without thinking today, and it happened with no forethought at all. More than once he'd braced himself to kiss her, been almost shaking with the excitement of finally doing it, then chickened out yet again; impulsiveness had been the way to go and he just hadn't realized it until it happened. And regardless of whether or not it was a good idea , he mused, this time he was going to follow through on those kisses…!

Grinning, he stretched his legs out onto her side, relaxing for a moment since he knew she'd be after him to clean up once she got back.

Which was exactly what she did, making him pick up and throw away the trash from his trip to the snack bar and put away the Scrabble game in her suitcase since he was the taller one. He mumbled something about having gotten it down as well, but she ignored him knowing it was a token grumble and expected.

They both shrugged into their overcoats, slipped on shoes, and sat down to wait as the train hurtled on. "God, I'm starving," Mulder said suddenly, turning away from the window. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it, I am—we must've slept through lunch, it said on our tickets that the dining car was serving lunch between noon and three and I had planned to eat then. But it was a good nap, and we obviously needed it."

"It's nicer sleeping with someone snuggled up to you, isn't it, Scully?" Mulder said with a rakish grin, nudging her lightly in the side with his wrist. "Imagine how fun that'll be in a bed under covers."

She turned and raised a brow at him. "Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you, Mulder?" she said dryly. "I invited you over for dinner, not to move in."

"Ahh, but you said wherever this takes us," he said, still smiling. "I make no bones about where I want this to take us."

She gazed back at him, the eyebrow still up, and he couldn't resist leaning over to kiss her, sliding one hand around the back of her neck to bring her face towards his. At first her lips were cool and closed against his, but within moments they were warm and moving and parting so that her tongue could come out and play with his.

"Ahem… lovebirds… ten minutes to D.C."

They broke apart guiltily; somehow Scully had ended up half in his lap, breasts pressed to his chest and arms wrapped around his neck. Moving back into her seat she glanced up at him, and he shook his head ruefully. Then she reached in her coat pocket and got a tissue out, wiping the majority of her freshly-applied lipstick from Mulder's mouth and using a small pocket mirror to fix hers.

"Still think we're not going to end up in your bed day after tomorrow, Scully?" Mulder said with humor clear in his voice as the train began to slow and the few people in the rows ahead of them began to rise from their seats.

Although on one hand she didn't like him assuming, Scully knew he was right; there was no way this was not going to end up in her bed no matter how much of a bad idea she thought that might be. If their enemies or their bosses found out that they were romantically involved… but what the hell, she thought. Time to keep him on his toes.

"Who says we have to wait a couple of days, Mulder? Why don't you just come home with me; I have food at my house," she said silkily, smiling slightly over at him. "We were going to share a taxi anyway."

"What, tonight, now?" he blurted in surprise, hoping he wasn't making his panic face. But this was classic Scully; when she made up her mind that she wanted something or had a task to accomplish she never put it off, she always forged ahead with single-minded determination. How that would translate to her actions in bed… he had to stop thinking about it, he realized, or she'd get a preview of coming attractions!

"Unless you've changed your mind and don't want to," she said with a shrug, turning away to hide her grin. It wasn't often she got the upper hand and she was going to enjoy this while she could.

He took a deep breath as they both rose and reached for their suitcases. "The answer is no I haven't and yes I still want to, but isn't this kind of sudden?"

She turned to stare at him wide-eyed. "We've been partners nearly seven years, Mulder. Are you kidding me?"

Laughing, he followed her out into the aisle and off the train. "Let's go find a cab, G-woman. Your place it is."

As they headed for the exit, Mulder by her side, Scully decided that though she would never admit it to him, taking the train had been one of his best ideas yet.

finis