She’s always been so meticulous, so methodical. When they first knew each other it used to drive him insane, just how much she notated and observed and…examined. Now he finds it endearing, just another one of the many traits he admires in her.

At this boring meeting though, he thinks her focus is a little pointless. Nothing the speaker is saying is new to any of the veteran and experienced agents in the room.

She looks so focused as the lecturer drones on and on, the occasional squeak of his whiteboard marker breaking up the sonorous mumbling that no doubt isn’t being absorbed by anyone in the room except his studious partner. Scully doesn’t even look up, she just keeps scribbling away.

He watches her profile as she writes, the way the sweep of her hair drapes down over her forehead. The way she occasionally licks her lips. He promised himself that he was going to be professional today, that he wasn’t going to let what happened between them interfere with their work. But all he can think about right now is how last night he finally discovered how she felt and tasted and sounded…

She surprises him when—without even glancing his way—she pushes her little notepad in front of him. Automatically he glances down and reads the half-filled page.

I have to write this down, otherwise I’m going to scream, he reads in her neat scrawl, I can’t stop thinking about last night. My heart keeps pounding every few minutes because I keep wondering if I imagined or dreamed it.

He inhales sharply when he realizes what this is. He risks a glance at her, but she’s not looking at him, instead staring straight ahead. He can see by the rise and fall of her chest that her breathing is shallow, and there’s a slight flush in her cheeks.

I can’t stand being here, just inches away from you, and I can’t touch you. I have to SIT HERE and feel your warmth and quietly go over and over in my head the thought that I now know what it’s like to kiss you, to feel you inside me, to fall asleep in your arms. It’s killing me, Mulder.

I want our relationship to be a relationship in every sense of the word, be it work, friends, and lovers. I don’t want last night to be the only time we do this, and I’m putting myself out there, because after last night I’m beginning to believe you feel the same.

Can we…talk tonight?

He feels hot and flushed, absolutely astounded with wonder. He’s just been given everything he ever wanted in a miniature Mead notepad. He pushes it back in her direction with a slightly shaky hand and leans towards her.

“I would like nothing more,” he whispers as quietly as he can. He avoids looking at her in the guise of paying attention to the speaker, but he can still feel her shy smile. She scribbles again, pushing the notepad back in his direction, and he almost has a heart attack when he reads it.

I want to feel you bite my neck while you fuck me from behind in the shower.