Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. It sure ain’t Florida. It’s January: they’re on the run. They stop for a breather here, in this reindeer sweater and hot cocoa city cradled in a valley between majestic mountains, covered in a blanket of snow.
Mulder has splurged on LL Bean duck boots for both of them - a true Yankee - but they’re no match for the ice underneath the white clouds on the ground.
In their room, Scully ices and massages his twisted ankle in her lap as he slumps back on the bed, dozing with Tylenol PM in his system.
Before sleep claims him, he hears her tuneless singing:
“d'Alene, d'Alene, d'Alene, d'Aleeeene, I’m begging you, please don’t take my man…”
Whatever we are waiting for - peace of mind, contentment, grace,
the inner awareness of simple abundance - it will surely come to us, but
only when we are ready to receive it with an open and grateful heart.
her eyes are still bugging me but every time I change them I hate them more. I feel like they are still to wide but I wanted her to kind of have big eyes so…I dunno. If I didn’t suck so she’d be perfect already.