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He was unsure how he ended up at her door. It had to be about three in the morning. But he always had gravitated toward her in times of need. He gently knocked, with the hand that did not contain the worn picture of baby William, and he prayed that she was home. He heard the door unlatch, and it opened, revealing a groggy Scully in a bathrobe. She gave him a sad, knowing smile, remembering all the times she had opened the door for him at the ungodly hours of the morning while they were still part of the X Files. He entered her sterile apartment, glancing around at the immaculateness and order, parallel to the structure of his own home.
"Scully, I..." His eyes wavered and they silently communicated the fifteen years of pain shared over the loss of William.
"I know. Come here" She opened her arms to him and he fell into her, stifling the hurt had he promised to never feel over his son. She smelled like he remembered: a mixture of powdered hospital gloves, fruity shampoo, and something warm, but undeniably Scully. He kissed her hair as she laid her head below his chin, her arms still wrapped around his middle. He had missed Scully's hugs.
They both sat on her couch, a slight distance apart from each other, palming untouched mugs of coffee, staring at her blank television screen. Scully checked her watch, "Mulder, we both need sleep." She stood up, lethargically stretching her small frame and grabbing his full cup of coffee.
"Uh...should I sleep on the couch?" Scully thought for a moment, knowing he should, but she was selfish and missed sleeping next to him.
"No. You can sleep in my bed." Although he was extremely pleased with her response, he was too overcome by a sense of grief, he simply shuffled to her bed, laying down under an unfamiliar duvet. She had the tendency to change her sheets after he slept over which made his heart ache. Her warm body finally entered the sheets and he instinctively reached out his arm to pull her closer toward him. Though she cringed at his touch, she allowed him to pull her closer, his outer leg wrapping around hers, both arms looping around her frail body. She started to shake, wracked with silent sobs, a mixture of happiness for Mulder's company, and sadness for the life that they could have lived. His large hands rubbed her shoulders and back, an attempt to comfort her, but after no avail, he rotated her body so he could see her face. He had studied every inch of her face over the last twenty years. Memorizing her freckles, wrinkles, the creases by her eyes and lips. But today he looked at an unfamiliar face, with dark circles, wrinkles, and marred with a silent pain. His lips automatically met hers, and she did not pull away, drinking in the feeling she had missed for eight years. His lips were soft and she savored the pillowy feeling. Her body automatically reacted to his, she was unable to prevent it. Her hands snaked through his hair, pulling him closer. They kissed until they were out of breath, both regretfully pulling away. She remained close to him, his breath tickling her cheek, as his hazel eyes searched her deep blue ones.
"Scully, I love you. I can't live without you."
"I know." His hands travelled down to the small of her back, where he had guided her throughout their years as professional partners. She kissed him again, a tear rolling down her cheek.