He's about to lift his head when her hand catches his. They can't lie to each other at a moment like this, and maybe they never could - but especially now, when reading her body has turned out to be exactly like riding a bicycle. You get back on, and it turns out you never actually forgot. And that minute tension is the equivalent of a klaxon, ringing out loud and clear: Stop, Fox. Turn back.

Instead, he turns his attention to her earlobe, catching it lightly between his teeth as he considers her offer. It's all he can really hope for, when they get down to it: Scully's here now, and she might leave, but he'll probably come at least twice between those two points, and she'll fall asleep with her head on his shoulder at least once. Which will beat everything else, even feeling her come when he's inside her, because Scully failing to stay awake for the duration of a movie feels like home in a way nothing else ever has. Mulder can't ask her for more, and he especially can't try to wring a yes, I'm going to stay out while they're screwing, but he wants both to touch her and to talk about this.

"I think we are starting with that," he answers, his mouth still on her ear. His thumb moves over her nipple in a lazy circle. "I'm just interested in where you want to be next week."