Mulder was in paradise.

He was floating naked in clear and quiet waters on his back, his arms and legs fully stretched, his face just above the surface and his water line effortlessly maintained by Scully's left hand under his neck.

The water was pretty fresh, even freezing cold by expected paradisiac standards, but it wasn't spoiling the clichéd postcard of the scenery: a nice waterfall upstream (but so smaller than the one Mulder had to climb up), a wide and deep stream pool welcoming their sore and dirty bodies, luxuriant trees and colored flowers surrounding the river, and rays of the now glorious sun warming and brightening the whole decor.

Then, of course, there was his naked naiad standing in the water just so close, her bare skin against his and her breast floating at eyes' level.

"Feel like I'm featuring in The Blue Lagoon," Mulder said, breaking the comforting silence that had wrapped them for a couple of minutes.

"You're too old, Mulder," Scully replied with a smile. "Besides, this is no ocean."

"Yeah, but we're good on the skinny dipping part, the natural attractiveness of our perfect bodies, the friendship leading to love, the took-them-seven-years to discover what sex means, and, also, the shipwreck on a lush tropical island. Metaphorically for the latter, if not literally."

"We're not cousins at all."

"Stop naysaying me, Brooke Shields."

"Come on, Richard Gere."

"Wrong actor!"

Scully smiled and gazed at Mulder's body displayed in all its glory, just below the surface of the transparent water or just above, especially for its unique and male feature that was freely and attractively floating at her right hand's reach.

"And our story leads to the unexpected and puzzling pregnancy?" Scully suddenly asked loudly.

Surprising herself by the question that had been poured out of her soul against her best will and reason, Scully dropped her hand and immediately turned around, overwhelmed by her own words.

Mulder's head immediately dived, making him swallow water and preventing him from answering in a beat. He quickly rose on his feet, retrieved his breath, then took Scully's body in a tight embrace from behind.

Himself out of immediate comforting words —what could he say knowing how much this meant to her after the failure of her attempted IVF— Mulder just put gentle kisses on her neck while stroking her crossed arms, and, for all the time she needed it, he let Scully tear out her sorrow.

Then, when her sobs stopped and her body relaxed, he whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry, Scully. I didn't want to hurt you with my lame comparison."

He wanted to add something much more meaningful and closer to the truth, such as apologizing that his quest had been the very cause of her stolen ova, that she should beat him with her angry fists till he bled to atone his sins, or that he wasn't deserving her love if it meant sudden outburst of tears because of his very existence.

But his heart was weak and, by the time his brain searched for the most appropriate words of regrets, Scully had turned around and settled her head against his chest.

"It's not you, Mulder… And don't dare stop your lame jokes, it's part of your irresistible charm."

Mulder smiled, then kissed Scully's wet hair while smelling their sweet fragrance.

For her, he was never the cause of her grief and sorrow, but he never bought it, not completely. Sometime, some day, she would acknowledge it, and, for this moment to come, Mulder hoped he wouldn't chicken out and would bravely take the blame.

"Okay, won't stop…" Mulder simply said.

Then, after a second, he added while stroking her back: "Oh, now you're shivering, Scully. Let's get out of those freezing waters before you get a cold!"

Scully raised her face and looked up at Mulder's head.

"You're right. And now we've cleaned you, I have to take a proper look at your injuries."