Scully didn't know what to reply. A thousand thoughts were racing through her mind, but none of them slowed down enough for her to catch.

This was it. They were standing at the crossroad, and it was up to her to decide which route to take from here. Were they about to cross over from being partners, friends even, to... what exactly? Whereas she had no (oh so no) troubles picturing them in bed together, she couldn't quite imagine them being... a couple. Spending their lives together. They were just too different. Heck, they couldn't even agree on where to stop for lunch on their many road trips, how could they ever make vitally important decisions together?

Sure, she wouldn't mind doing something about this unresolved sexual tension between them (yes, she had noticed it). Not mind at all. Actually, there was less she was more keen on doing right about now (or pretty much any time). She had fantasized about them countless times. Flashes of them together appeared out of nowhere, unbidden more often than not. When he rolled up his sleeves during a meeting with Skinner, when she checked his head after one of his countless accidents, every time he put his hand guidingly on her lower back, heck, even when he wept bundled up in her arms. And in her fantasies they were good together. Oh so good. And the thing was, she was sure they would live up to her expectations. The sex would be good. Mind-blowing-good. But what then? After a while, one of them (her?) would want more, while the other (him?) would want less. One of them would get hurt, whereas the other would feel guilty. She didn't even care which applied to whom, either way was bad. Bad enough to avoid it from happening at all? Probably.

"Mulder..."

"Yes, Scully?"

"I think we should really get some sleep now. I have an early autopsy to conduct tomorrow, and you should start interviewing possible witnesses as early as possible."

Mulder didn't reply.

Scully felt bad, an ache spreading from her belly to her chest for having once again rebuffed his advancements. But it was for the better. One of them had to keep a cool head, and they both knew that this was her task. She closed her eyes again but was miles (light years actually) away from sleep. Had her decision been right? She was torn between letting him know that his feelings were reciprocated and keeping things safe. She wished there were a way to let him know that she cared about him just as much as he cared about her (probably even more) without any consequences. But she knew Mulder, he never did things half way. With him it was all or nothing. Which was another reason actually not to pursue this any further...

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"I know you think about me too."

She inhaled sharply. She hadn't expected him to press this. To call her out. She could either deny this and hope he would get the hint to let it drop, or she could tell him the truth. Lying was easier, and much safer. So much safer. But he had mentioned her integrity and she just couldn't get herself to lie about this. There were so many truths evading him, it was heart-breaking to watch. She could at least offer him this one truth. The truth about them.

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes, Scully?"

"Yes, sometimes, Mulder. We spend so much time together, thinking about us being together is unavoidable."

"Is it?"

All of a sudden Mulder was sitting right next to her. He was close. Very close. She could hardly make out his form in the dark, but she could feel his presence. Feel his warmth. Smell his scent. She arched her eyebrows in surprise, and defensively pulled up her legs.

But Mulder stopped her movements by putting a hand on her knee.

"Do you ever picture me doing this?" he drew small circles with his thumb right above her knee.

"Maybe"

"How about this?" He gently brushed his fingers across her arm. Starting at her wrist, slowly crawling up her arm, higher and higher.

"Yeah" she whispered. Shuddering under his touch.

"Do you ever picture us kissing?" He asked at the exact moment when his fingers reached her shoulder. Her bare shoulders. Of all trips, it of course had to be this trip she thought bringing just a tank-top and shorts to sleep in would be a good idea.

She considered what to reply next.

But before she could form a reply, his lips were on hers. His kiss was sweet and slow in the beginning, but quickly intensified when he felt her respond. It went from sweet to hot in seconds. So. fucking. hot. If his kiss was a harbinger of what sex with him would be like she was done for. If she didn't stop him now, there would be no turning back. And her mind had provided all reasons as to why this was a bad idea mere minutes ago.

"Mulder, don't". Then, in a whisper "please, don't."