The insistent knocking on her bedroom door woke Scully up.

"Come in," she mumbled, unwilling to open her eyes, let alone get up to open the door. "What's wrong, honey?" she asked, automatically uncovering the unused side of the bed with an inviting gesture. "Get in."

"Who are you expecting?" she heard Mulder's voice. It was enough to make her sit up and glare at him through now half-open eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "It's late. I thought Betty had a nightmare."

"Betty," Mulder nodded. "Does that mean there's no man hiding in your closet somewhere?"

"What?" she was too sleepy to try and make sense of his words.

"If not," Mulder kept going anyway. "Is the invitation to your bed still open?"

"What?" she repeated. She looked down on the soft warm pillow and shrugged. "You want to join me? Fine, get in."

"What?" it was Mulder's turn to ask.

"Just get in," Scully was already back in the lying position, her eyes wide shut. "Get in and tell me what's bothering you."

Mulder just stood there until she almost fell asleep, then carefully joined her on the bed, over the blankets, keeping as much distance as possible.

"You'd be more comfortable without all that clothes," Scully suggested.

"I'm comfortable," Mulder lied.

"I've had a long day, don't argue with me," she warned.

"I'll just sleep on the couch," Mulder jumped up, ready to leave. But Scully wasn't having it.

"I can't talk to you if you are in the living room," she reasoned. "You didn't come here to sleep on the couch, you already have that at home."

She watched him as he hesitantly disrobed, until he was standing in nothing but boxers. He just stood there, staring at the floor. Scully had seen him in his underwear, even naked, more times that she bothered to count (maybe she used to count, but stopped a long time ago). However, she never saw him embarrassed about that.

"Are you afraid of me?" she asked gently.

"No," he said unconvincingly. "I just, um, don't want to intrude."

"Come in, Mulder," Scully opened the sheets a bit further. "I don't mind the company. It gets lonely in here."

She chastised herself for admitting as much, but she was so tired and it was so late that her self-control wasn't really working as expected. Still, she didn't want to take any of it back, especially not when Mulder's warm body joined her under the sheets. It felt better than sleeping in his shirt that she liked to borrow sometimes, shamelessly pretending that she forgot her pyama, just to be wrapped up in his smell.

She didn't resist the temptation to enjoy that smell right from its source now, and she snuggled to him, placing her head on his chest.

"You're safe here," she told him. Or maybe she said it to herself.

Mulder wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, wholeheartedly accepting her embrace with all of his being. Except his mind.

"I'm not enough of a man for you," he sighed regretfully.

"Don't be so self-conscious, Mulder. You have a lot to offer."

"Not in the department of, um, basic primal needs."

Scully smiled and placed a chaste kiss on his chest. She was pleased that he was thinking about that stuff, enjoying how far he'd come from that awful day when the unbearable truth was revealed to him.

"Did I ever tell you about my first time with a man?" she asked.

"No," she felt him tense underneath her. "And I don't want to hear it."

"We were in high school," she said anyway. "It was a first time for both of us. We had no idea what we were doing, but our bodies did and... It was amazing. It really was. I don't think I ever had a better lover. Experience isn't everything, in fact I believe it's overrated. It takes some magic out of it."

Mulder entangled from their embrace and turned his back to her. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to think about her... like that. Naked. Used. Enjoying it. How could a woman ever enjoy someone doing that to her? How could anybody? He understood the urge to give it to someone, he felt that same urge, but he couldn't understand the willingness to receive, let alone enjoy the process of... having it given to you.

"You'll be a great lover, Mulder," Scully said to his back. "You have so much passion and you care deeply... It's all you need, you have all that it takes."

"I've talked to Roger," he tried to change the subject. "He's gay."

"Oh," Scully didn't know what to say.

"He lied to me. All these years he kept lying to me."

Scully turned to her back and stared at the ceiling, realizing she might have to give up sleeping.

"He wasn't obligated to tell you. You are his patient."

"His patient?" Mulder turned around to face her. "I thought we were just friends. I haven't been to a therapy session in years."

"It doesn't mean you never will."

"A patient," Mulder repeated with disgust, turning on his back. They both stared at the ceiling now, both getting agitated.

"Mulder, it's not the same," Scully sighed. "What two consenting men do in the privacy of their homes is nobody's business. You can't, in any way, compare it to an adult man abusing a defenseless child."

"Jesus, Scully," Mulder was petrified. "I never said..."

"You don't have to say anything," Scully reached under the blankets to search for his hand. "You just have to sort through your feelings."

Mulder accepted her hand and raised it to his lips. They both turned to face each other.

"I keep wondering if he's thinking about me," Mulder reluctantly confessed.

"You mean romantically?"

"I mean... Sexually."

Scully immediately started to wonder about that too.

"I wouldn't blame him if he did," she admitted. "You are..."

"What? I'm what, Scully?"

"Cute," she smiled and run a hand through his hair. "You are a handsome man. I don't know about Roger, but if I ever have, um, thoughts like that, I… I think about you."

"Like a patient?" he snapped, getting it all wrong. "Are you trying to fix me, Scully? Is that what this is all about? The date, the invitation to your bed..."

"Mulder..." Scully's voice was full of hurt, but he didn't even notice.

"Tell me the truth, Scully," he demanded. "I sacrificed everything for the truth, as you are damn well aware of. I need the truth from you."

Scully sat up and turned her back to him.

"The truth," she sighed. "Mulder, the date was your idea."

"No. My idea was that you accept an invitation from a colleague, not to go out with me."

"If that's how you feel," Scully was almost crying at this point. "Then all you had to do was say no."

"I didn't want to say no," Mulder admitted. "I don't... I don't regret it. I just need to know, um, where we are going with… this."

"I don't know the answer to that. I just... All these years you never encouraged me to date. You always considered it a waste of time. So when you suggested that I should... I dismissed it at first, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and… You were right, it's been a long time since the last time I..."

"Why me?"

"Because I trust you. Not just with... I trust you not to, um, push for anything I'm not ready for. A date seemed like something small, something both of us might be ready for."

Mulder didn't say anything. They stayed in silence, lost in their own thoughts, waiting for the other to speak first. Mulder felt like Scully had more to say, but it was still his turn.

"What's wrong, Scully?" He finally asked.

"Nothing's wrong," Scully sighed. "I just... I don't feel anything anymore. I mean, physically. I mean... Down there... After the abduction, cancer, IVF, almost dying at birth... I feel like my body isn't mine anymore... Like it's a lifeless vehicle I'm just using. Right before I was diagnosed with cancer, I went to a bed with a stranger, just to see if I would feel anything. I didn't, and he tried to kill me. It put me off dating for a long time and then it just kept getting worse. After the cancer, my focus was on getting pregnant, having a baby. I almost died, but it was worth it. And now... There is no baby inside of me, I am not getting kidnapped or terminally ill. For years, my body's been only mine again. I wanted to see if maybe... I don't know."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry," Mulder said quietly.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be this hard on you. I was only thinking about myself... I don't pity you, Mulder. I drive my strength from you. If anybody deserved pity on our date, it wasn't you, Mulder. It was me."

Mulder sat up and carefully placed a hand on her back.

"What do you need, Scully?" He asked gently. "What can I do?"

She stared at the darkness of the wall, her gaze piercing through the emptiness of the night, searching for the lost depths of her soul. His hand started to burn a hole in her back, creating energy that traveled all through her body, awakening butterflies in her stomach. For a moment she wished he was like other men in her life, assertive and initiative, ready to claim her body without needing much more than a mere consent from her.

But she walked away from all of those other men.

She turned back to Mulder, searching for his eyes in the dark.

"You like touching me," she whispered.

"Sorry," he quickly pulled his hands to himself.

"Why?" she asked, missing the warmth, craving for more. "Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry for…" his mind quickly skimmed through the endless list of things he was sorry for. "I'm sorry for accusing you of trying to fix me out of pity… I guess I, um, don't know how to deal with the information."

"What information?" Scully was confused.

"About you," he tried to explain. "Thinking about me. Like that. It's a…"

"Is it wrong?" she asked self-consciously.

"No," Mulder chuckled. "I guess not. I just… What do you think about, Scully?"

"Well," she was suddenly grateful for the privacy of darkness between them. "I really like to think about acting with you in one of those videos."

"You…?" Mulder chuckled again. "Wow. I don't even know what to say."

"It's all very professional, of course," she wanted to clarify. "The cameras, the lighting, makeup crew… With Skinner as a producer, barking orders at us."

"Jesus, Scully! You want Skinner to watch?"

"It's a fantasy, Mulder," Scully giggled. "I don't want him to watch, but… I sometimes like to imagine him watching."

"Scully!" Mulder playfully shook his head, trying to sound seriously. "I had no idea you were so… badly influenced by me."

"Who said it was your influence?" she teased.

"Was it Skinner?" the alarms went on in Mulder's head. "Did he ever-"

"No," Scully playfully slapped him on the chest. "He's always been perfectly professional around me. Don't you get it? We'd need someone professional to film that, someone with great capacity for self-control."

Mulder shook his head in an attempt to get rid of that picture.

"Stop!" he laughed, pulling her into a hug. "Just stop! I never in a million years pegged you for an exhibitionist, Scully."

She buried her head in his chest, giggling with embarrassment and glee. "Good to know I still keep you guessing."

"You do," he kissed the top of her head. "Damn right you do."

Their breathings slowed down and Mulder pulled Scully down on the bed with him. He thought she had fallen asleep, when he heard her murmur.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Do you ever think about being with me?"

He heard her clearly now, but a part of him wished he hadn't. It was a dangerous question, and his answer, or lack of it, had the potential to turn their lives upside down. For better or worse.

His home had no sign of porn anymore, no adult videos or magazines under the couch, no expensive phone calls. He only took cold, quick showers. His place was a princess castle now, and his thoughts about naked bodies were as pure and as innocent as his daughter's.

Until about two weeks ago when Scully had dropped a fork and bent down to pick it up. He noticed the outline of her underwear and something inside him reacted to the sight in front of him. Well, a very particular part of him, the one that lay dormant for years. The one that started to look forward to privacy when Betty wasn't at his home. The one long forgotten, despised and dismissed. The one with the mind of its own.

Maybe Scully was right, Mulder started to wonder, maybe this really was his idea after all.

"Yes," he finally answered. "Only you."