Well, AOL still isn't working right....

Hm, some basic info...Most of this story was written during an XF convention while waiting for a ride to the BART station and while on the train. The Title is from an old Kris Kristofferson song called Bobby McGee. Yes, it is an Erin Mulder story, set around February 96, so it is after Piper Maru and Apocrypha. In Erin's timeline, it follows 'Yes, Erin, There Is A Santa Claus'(which I didn't write, BTW). It is, as usual, half comedy, half romance, and very weird. It is also dedicated in loving memory to the Epworth Youth Group Snow Trip of '89, where we not only froze but dyed our socks blue, too:D

The X-Files and all characters within that universe belong to Chris Carter(god) and his associates. Erin Mulder is mine, as is this story. It goes anywhere you want, as long as my name goes along with it. Third season spoilers too, kay?

Hey J, here's to you and Sharp technology, huh? grin

Freedom's just another word for
nothing left to lose
nothing ain't worth nothing, but it's free;

Feelin good was easy, lord, when
Bobby sang the blues
Feelin good was good enough for me;
Good enough for me and Bobby McGee.

It was snowing again. Two feet, maybe three by the end of the day.

Fox Mulder crunched through the thin layer of ice and frozen leaves on the ground, his sneakers soaked, the tips of his jacket dark from the water. His shoulders already had a few millimeters of unmelted white stuff, and the top of his head felt uncomfortably cold.

It never snowed in Chilmark, or very rarely, anyway.

His gloves were long since discarded, left on the park bench for some bum who needed them more anyway. His shirt felt wet. Cold. The reflecting pool looked icy in the overcast light.

Samantha loved snow.

He remembered trips-to the coast for him in the summer, for the swimming; to the mainland in the winter for her, for the snow.

Even after...it...even after the separation, the divorce, his father still took him to the snow every year until he left. Winter in Oxford, he found a snowfield and watched other little kids play. Back home, again, he went alone, or met his father somewhere. They just knew where to go, and when.

This year he didn't even have his dad to turn to. No point in going up there. No one to go with. No one to meet. Not even the half-apologetic, half-accusatory conversations he was used to when he dealt with his father.

He'd asked Phoebe Green to come with him, one year at Oxford, in another lifetime. She'd told him plainly that he was insane. He'd asked Reggie Purdue his first year in the FBI, hoping to show some semblance of normality. His partner had come, but he knew he hadn't understood. And his father had taken a violent dislike to Purdue. After that, he simply came alone.

It wasn't worth going anymore.

Not that he'd lost his faith, far from it, he felt stronger than ever in his convictions, especially after the surreal last encounter he'd had, when he hadn't even been able to control his own mind. But he didn't try to kid himself, he didn't have the time to uphold some useless tradition. At least, that's what he told himself. He was getting to where he half believed it.

Hell, he could sit and watch the kids here play in the snow and still get that hopeless, suicidal feeling. And this way, the owners of that field up in Mass. wouldn't watch him and gossip about the 'crazy Mulder men.'

Crazy Mulder *man*, now, remember? Probably the last, too, the way your life's been lately.

Someone screamed nearby-he started, hand automatically going to his hip holster.

Just a kid, wiping a snowball off his shirt. The little girl nearby fell in the deep drift of snow, laughing her frozen little butt off.

The name of the game in paranoia he reminded himself.

Then he heard another noise behind him, and something cold and hard hit the back of his head.

His gun was out of the holster even before he turned, before his hand went to his neck, before he felt the cold slush slide down past his collar and settle somewhere in the small of his back.

Erin Mulder, snow still on her gloves, smiling at him. "Don't shoot, I'm unarmed."

"I'll believe that when I see it," he replied, watching her smile. "You've got a full round of snowballs, I know it."

"What're you doing out here?" She walked up, taking the mound of show out from behind her back.

"Making like a target, apparently. You want to get my attention, or are you just in a particularly bad mood today?"

"Little of both. You looked depressed."

"Thanks."

"Anytime." The girl hefted the snowball and considered it. "I talked to Da and he said I should come up when I had the chance, see if I couldn't beat a little sense into you."

"Give him my regards."

"Well, not in as many words." Erin tilted her head. "He wouldn't tell me why, though. And if I've driven all the way up here, including learning how to put chains on a tire halfway down the freeway, for nothing, you are going to be in big trouble."

"Chains?" he asked quizzically. Somehow, it was hard to reconcile the picture of this kid with someone tying chains onto car tires.

"It's snowing, remember? We've already got a few feet down by the diner."

"Oh."

They walked a few more feet in silence. Finally, she stopped again. "Hey, you changed the subject."

"So?"

"Damn, Fox, you know better than to play mindgames." She grinned. "It's something to do with Samantha, hm?"

"Just thinkin'."

"About her?"

"No, actually. More about my father." He answered, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets. She pulled her hat off and jumped lightly, managing to toss it onto his head, and grinned. "You look great in green, anyone ever tell you that, Fox?"

He pulled the hat off. "Yeah, the same people who sell me my ties." Studied the knit cap in detail. "We took trips to the snow. Seemed odd, everyone else was complaining about it and we went looking for the stuff."

"We?"

"My parents. Samantha. Once upon a time, I did have a family, you know." He smiled lightly to mask the hurt. They *had* been a family, his father and mother and sister and him. Then they each became just a person, William and Caroline and Fox and...no Samantha.

A cold arm slipped through his, and she leaned on him. "You still do have family, you know. Mike and me and Dana and Margaret-and don't you dare deny that." She pointed a finger at him when he opened his mouth to protest. "Family isn't who you're tied to by blood. But..." She trailed, "If you want to...I'll come up to Massachusetts with you."

At his startled look, Erin tapped her temple. "Remember, I know what you are thinking...."

He muttered something about invasion of privacy and damned telepaths. She laughed and broke away, ran a few feet ahead, turned around, began walking backwards, facing him. "Come on, it'd be fun. Or we could just mess around here. You know, I don't think I actually recall when I was in one town long enough to really get any time to play in the snow? Wonderful stuff. Here, catch." She pegged him with another snowball.

God, she looked *just* like Samantha.......

His face broke into a grin and he began to run. "You're gonna pay for that one, child."

She giggled and ran on ahead, managing to get a few yards before he caught up and grabbed her around the waist, tossing her into a drift nearby. At the last minute she caught ahold of his coat and he stumbled, falling back into the snow himself. She sat up and filled her hat with snow, dumping it on him. He spluttered, pulled it off, and tossed the loose flakes back at her.

"You know, I thought I might find a few kids here, but I never did think that they let anyone that immature stick around out here."

Erin rolled over, glancing up into a familiar pair of blue eyes. "Jeez, Fox, get up, wouldja? You're sitting on my leg."

"Mhf?" He wiped snow off his face. "Scully!" He shot out of the snowbank, dusting himself off. The dark stains from the snow didn't go away when he brushed at them. Erin followed, hugging the older woman briefly before recovering her hat from the bush nearby, where it had landed.

"Having fun?" Scully asked, trying hard not to laugh. The picture of her partner lying in a snowbank with a ridiculous green hat on his head would be with her for a long time. He grinned back. "Time of my life. Wanna join us?"

"No thanks, I'd like to stay halfway dry." She eyed the two of them. " So, who's being a bad influence on whom here?"

"He started it." Erin pointed. "All his fault for getting so darned depressed in the first place."

"I never-" He broke off, realizing she was teasing him.

"I see." Scully said.

"Aw, come on, Dana, you sound like a mother. It's fun." Erin flicked a few small bits of ice off her sleeve. "Want to help me build a snow fort?"

"In the middle of a public park?"

"Yup."

"No thank-"

"Nope, don't get out of it that easily. Come on, here's the perfect spot." The teen dragged them both out onto what had once been grass, and now was a plain white field. "Start packing."

The two agents exchanged wary looks.

"Fine, if you don't want to build a fort, you get to pay the price." Dual snowballs hit them. Another uninterpretable look between them, and they both tackled the girl, sending her flying in a puff of cold wet stuff.

"Uncle. Uncle." She yelled, muffled by the snow. "It's freezing out here, Fox, what happened to your gloves, and can I steal your jacket? Dana, gimme my hat back."

"*Now* she starts complaining," Mulder commented.

"Typical." Scully shook her head.

"Yeah, you two laugh, you've got training in unarmed combat and I'm just a poor defenseless kid."

"Defenseless my-"

"Mulder."

"Right..."

"God, I'm freezing." Erin burrowed out of the snow. "I'd go sit in the car, but it's freezing there, too."

"I think it's time we found someplace dry and a change of clothes for you." Scully dusted her gloves off lightly. "Your apartment's closer, Mulder."

"Off we go, then. I got dibs on your SCHWA sweatshirt, Fox, and I want some dry socks." Erin bounded away, most likely to figure out where she'd left the car. Mulder stared at the impression she'd made in the snow for a minute, slightly surprised.

"You all right?" Scully asked quietly, taking his hand. Her glove was a lot warmer than he was.

Are you upset? Do you feel responsible, do you feel guilty? Do you miss her? I'm here, you know, always.

"I'm all right. Better, now," he replied, looking up slightly, towards the DC skyline.

I was upset. Till you came along. I miss her a lot. But I'm doing okay. Thanks.

He walked off after his cousin, Scully trailing, leaving behind the fresh imprint of a snow angel on the small clear area where they'd fallen. **

"So I said to the guy, 'I'm a waitress, not a psychic', Da burst out laughing, and the flambe he was working on caught his hat on fire."

Erin grinned in reminiscence and hunched deeper into the vastly oversized sweatshirt and equally large pants she'd stolen from Mulder's wardrobe. "It was the most fun that place has seen in a long time. Anyway," She changed the subject abruptly, "Spill, what have you been up to? I want to know who's gone where, what's gone down, and if your boss has grown hair I'll eat my car keys. No, wait, don't start yet." She corrected herself. After a second, the crystal she usually wore around her neck hit the kitchen table. "I know if I keep this thing on and you start telling me stuff, I'm going to get grotestque images of gargoyles or something, and I just don't want to go there. By the way, Fox, this cocoa is awful." She indicated the steaming mug in front of her and took another sip.

"I'm not surprised. The mix has been in my cupboard for about five years," he replied easily. She spewed the liquid back into the cup and reached for his mug of coffee, downing half before she spoke again. "You might have warned me."

"He may not make good chocolate, but I hear he mixes a mean screwdriver." Scully put in, seating herself across from him at the table.

"Fox Mulder, my cousin, the straightest of the straight, who doesn't even keep beer in his fridge, mixes drinks?" Erin's eyebrows went up.

"I'm not-hey, wait." Mulder eyed his partner curiously. "The last time I..."

"....mixed a drink, was in Comity?" Scully examined her fingernails innocently. "Detective White and I had a nice phone conversation the other day. Very informative."

"I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"When you're older, Erin. A lot older."

"Okay, look, it's not like I'm a total fool..."

"Trust no one."

"Deny everything."

"My god, it's the invasion of the pod people. Who are you and what have you done with the real Fox and Dana?"

"Weee keeep theee redddheaddd in theee baseeeement." Mulder cracked.

"I think someone's had a little too much caffiene." Erin replied. "Seriously, though. Was your last case classified?"

The two agents exchanged looks across the top of her head. Mulder had debated, after the fact, on whether or not to tell her about their dealings with Model, the Pusher. After all, her abilities could stem from the same sort of condition he had-she'd never had any neurological work done, and while she seemed healthy, if she were to die from a tumor too.......

He took a deep breath and telegraphed to his partner. You go first.

She's your cousin.

You're the doctor.

He was after you.

Finally, he sighed in resignation. "We were tracking a hit man who could....um...force his will on other people."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up, as always, whenever they told her about their work. "How totally cool."

"Not really." Mulder shifted uncomfortably. "Do you know how to play Russian Roulette?"

"Yeah, one bullet, six chambers, and if you're dumb or suicidal enough to try it more than once, you'll probably end up dead. You...didn't, did you?"

"I didn't have a choice." More emotion seeped into his voice than he'd intended.

"Wow." The impact of what he'd said quieted her down instantly. "What happened?"

"I shot him. If Scully hadn't pulled the fire alarm, I would have shot her, instead."

"Yikes. Was he telekinetic?"

"Was he what?"

"Telekinetic. You know, moves things with his mind?" She picked the crystal up off the table and swung it back and forth.

"Psychokinetic, maybe." He tilted his head. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Well, if he could 'talk' you into putting a loaded gun to your head, he probably could rig it so that no matter what, the gun fired a bullet when he wanted it to."

"He gave me first shot. If he'd wanted to kill me...."

"Well, maybe it wasn't you he wanted to kill. I gather from what you've said-and haven't said, omission is a sin too, Dana-that both of you were in on it?"

"But if he'd wanted me dead...of course, that was why he wasn't afraid to die, he knew when that bullet was coming." Scully murmured.

"Okay, see it from my point of view." Erin glanced at her. "If I wanted to, with a little effort I could look straight through your eyes, see what you saw, see the expression on Fox's face when you, dear cousin, put that barrel to your head and pulled the trigger. I could look out from your opponent's eyes the second you pointed that same barrel at him and a bullet came out. He could do that, too, probably. No wonder he wanted to die."

"You know, there are times I seriously envy people with normal jobs." Mulder said softly. The teen shook her head. "A week of being an accountant, a lawyer, god forbid a therapist, and you'd kill yourself out of boredom. And then who would be around to annoy Dana?"

"Well, you do a pretty good job." Scully smiled. "But I think I'll stick to one Mulder at a time."

"Then you two stick close, okay?" Erin got up and walked over to the oven in the small kitchen. "Fox, you ever use this before?"

"Once or twice." He stretched.

"Figures. Well, at least they're dry." She pulled her shoes out of it. "But I'd clean it out before trying to dazzle anyone with your meatloaf."

"That's what microwaves are for."

"No, microwaves are for heating up prefab tv dinners made out of styrofoam. Come down to the diner soon, we'll remind you what *real* food tastes like," she said in his ear as she passed. "Bring your redheaded girlfriend, too."

"I think I'll stick with my Sharp turntable for now." He ignored the jab she shot at him completely. She let it go.

For now.

"You bought a Sharp? May you never pick out a computer for me. Oh, I'll have your sweats back to you some time next week." Shoes on, she squeaked out into the front room and shut the door behind her.

"Hey, that's my favorite-" Mulder started, but the door was already closed.

"Looks like you'll have to survive a week without plastering a huge alien head across your chest." Scully remarked. "So, are you going to 'dazzle' me with your cooking, or should we order out?"

"For you, I cook. Do you want peanut-butter crackers or week old deli sandwiches? They come in green and brown."

"Chinese food."

"Make my day."

"Haven't I already?" she asked, grinning. "I got you away from Model, didn't I?"

"It was close." The mention of their Pusher again startled him into honesty. "He made me want it. It would have been so easy to accept it, if a bullet had come out just then....he made me hate you..."

"No, he made you think you hated me." She corrected absently. "Two totally different things." Firm fingers gripped his chin and he looked up at her. "It's over now."

"Yeah." His tone was expressionless, but his eyes told her what she needed to know. "It is."

Somewhere on the freeway between Alexandria and Bethesda, a girl touched two minds and laughed to herself. One man, working *against* them, had cemented in two or three days what it had taken her months to build. She ran quickly over the few scattered images and feeling she'd managed to pick up from her cousin's wonderful photographic memory. Finally, she settled on one in particular, the sensation of another hand in his. Hold that thought she smiled wryly, And we'll make a couple of you two yet, dear cousin.

The end of the beginning, but not even the beginning of the end.....

The Erin Stories-My writing's so bad, you'll read 'em and weep!

Phantom-The Original. Not yet posted [archivist's note: does not seem to ever have been posted]
Debut-revised, and coming soon to a newsgroup near you!
Gossip-The monster.
The Message-Missy? Dead? Noooo!
Links-Pop psychology!
Shall We Dance-The King and I, and Erin
Masquer's Prank-There are strange things done on Haloween...
Gossip 2-The monster returns
Yes, Erin, There Is A Santa Claus-What a lovely X-mas present!
Unicorns And Dragons-Erin and Jackie. Be afraid.

Coming Soon-Dreamer And a special crossover, Vacation 2, featuring the wonderful Will McCormack!