With her hand on his chest, she can't miss the shuddery way his breath comes out of him. Everything about this is familiar. Everything about it is new. The weight of Scully resting against his is the stuff of fantasy, at this point, but his body still knows its cues; his arm cradles her closer before he realizes he's moving, his muscles growing slack under her touch.

There aren't words for what it's means to feel her this close again, the mix of relief and lingering sadness. In the moment it's everything he wants. It's going to end, and he'll be back in an empty bed, listening to the wind as it moves past his lonely little house - but right now, he has her.

Enjoy it while it lasts, Fox. Someday she'll look at him with the same despair and walk out the door...but at least tonight's less empty than it could be.

"If there's anything else you want to know," he murmurs, staring up at the ceiling, "I'll tell you."

Whispered stories in a darkened room seem safer than trying to explain their lives in the daylight.