A/N:

Title: Late Night Visit
Category: X-Files (MSR)
Summary: A little vignette inspired by a beautiful drawing posted on tumblr.
Rating: A strong PG-13 for some sexual situations.
Spoilers: Only for Brand X, I believe.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, otherwise they'd be having a lot more fun between cases.

This is inspired by le beeson's amazingly beautiful pencil sketch, posted on tumblr. There is so much talent in this fandom, it's unbelievable. I wish I could link it here, however, I very much strongly suggest checking out her tumblr and her amazing artwork. While you're there, you might as well check out the artwork of other bloggers as well. You will be inspired!

ps: I don't necessarily believe that in the episode all things was the first time they slept together. It just happened to work well for my story.

'This is stupid,' she thought, tossing over in her bed for what felt like the hundredth time. 'We've done it once already. I could just go over and say, "Mulder, I'm horny. Let's have sex."'

With that, she sighed, and flopped over in her bed once more. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut, willing herself to just sleep. Sleep, perchance to dream, and she knew exactly who would be starring in those dreams. It may end up more agonizing that what she was going through now.

She threw back the covers and stood up, pacing back and forth in her satin pyjamas. She could make the excuse that Mulder wasn't well yet – after all, it was only a few short weeks ago that he had insect larvae pupating in his lungs – but as his personal physician of record, she knew he was better. Much better, so much so that he'd been cleared for field duty, which meant his lung function was up to par. He was ready for strenuous physical activity.

Her mind drifted to the one time they had made love before. It was wonderful. The things he did to her, the things he made her feel… the way he made her feel… just remembering it made her heart pound in her chest. He was an amazing, giving lover. So different to the selfish jerk he could be at work. Mulder the lover was definitely someone she wanted to know a lot better.

Finally she stopped pacing. "That's it," she said to the empty room. "I'm going over." She pulled on her jeans and a sweater, grabbed her coat and her keys, and left her apartment before she could change her mind.

Her knock went unanswered, and it was almost enough to make her turn around and go back home, but if there was one thing Scully was not, it was a quitter. She didn't back down from anything she set her mind to, and tonight she'd set her mind on Mulder.

Using her key, she slipped into the dark apartment. She peeled off her jacket, and slid out of her shoes. Going into the bedroom, she saw the object of her desire sprawled out on his bed, bare chested, sheets tangled around his legs. She smiled. He was a beautiful man, but never more beautiful than when he slept. His face relaxed, his mouth slightly open, his breathing deep. If possible, her need for him increased.

She pulled off her jeans, then tossed off her sweater, leaving it next to the heap of clothing already piled on his floor. She spied the shirt he had worn to work that day and picked it up. He'd rolled up his sleeves by three o'clock, deeply immersed in his research on ancient Native American curses, his glasses on and sunflower seeds cracking in his mouth. She stared at him almost all afternoon without him noticing. She brought the shirt to her nose and inhaled. It smelled just like him. She impulsively slipped it on.

She took another step into the dark room, and stumbled over a pair of sneakers. She cursed softly, but it was enough to wake him.

"Who's there?" he said in a sleep-rough voice, sitting up.

"It's just me, Mulder."

"Scully?" She watched as he rubbed his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I…." she had no answer, and she blushed furiously. How does one tell her co-worker she is desperate to feel his naked body against her own?

"Are you wearing my shirt?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

"Yeah," she said, a bit shyly, looking down at her outfit with a smile of her own.

"It looks good on you. What else have you got on?"

"My panties."

"I think I once dreamt of a situation like this. It ended pretty well."

"You're not dreaming."

"Come here, Scully."

She moved then, putting her knee on his bed, prepared to sit next to him. Instead, he pulled her to straddle his legs, still sitting up. He pushed the shirt up her body, feeling the soft skin of her belly and tickling her. She giggled, relaxing.

"What brings you over at this hour?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

"I don't know. I wanted..." she couldn't adequately put her feelings into words.

"You don't need a reason. You're welcome anytime," he said, pulling her hips closer so she could feel the immediate effect she had on him. She gasped as a surge of pleasure flowed through her.

"Mulder," she sighed. She felt him kiss her collarbone as she began running her fingers through his hair. She'd never wanted anyone so much.

"Stay the night?" he asked, lifting his head to hers. In response, she bent her head and met his lips in a kiss.

"Yes," she whispered against his mouth, and parted her lips for another kiss.