Set sometime between seasons 3 and 5. This isn't based off of any specific episode/scene, I just like to think that they fall asleep together sometimes, in sleazy motels, on each other's couches, whatever. Un-beta'd, and my first X-Files fic, so please be kind :)
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He is aware of her lying next to him, her breathing slow and deep. He feels her bright red hair; it smells of spice and something that he could only describe as pure Scully, against his cheek, and her arm that's looped around his waist, clinging onto him, even in sleep, although he is sure she would hate it if she knew that she did this.
She shifts, and murmurs something in her sleep. He moves his head forward, just an inch, and presses his lips to her pale forehead, almost hesitantly. He swears that her mouth shifted into a smile as he did this, but he can't be sure. He closes his eyes and stays that way for a few minutes, losing track of time, of everything, losing himself in one of these rare, tender moments shared between them.
He adores these moments, more then he knows he should, being only her F.B.I. partner. But he isn't just that, he's so much more. They've formed such a close bond over the years, and although neither of them would admit it to the other's face, they couldn't lose each other, ever. She needed him, just as much as he needed her. He couldn't be sure if she loved him as more then a best friend, but at moments, he feels like she has to, the way she looks at him sometimes.
But for now, he's content with these moments.
