Of course it's supreme foolishness to think of her future self and wonder, how could you leave that behind? No doubt it was complicated. No doubt she had-- will have-- her reasons. And she's not really so shallow that getting off is the name of the game-- but there's something in the way he touches her, the way he holds her even now, that touches the parts of her heart she tries not to acknowledge.

The thing is, she shouldn't love him. And in the past, with other men, she's seen that almost as a challenge-- part of why she'd avoided admitting it for so long was the knowledge that she's been down that road before. But it isn't the same. Mulder loves her, and she can-- God, that sounds sappy-- she can feel it every single time he touches her.

She's oversensitized and overheated and can't even think about pulling away from him; they lay together for what feels like a long while, quiet and-- at least on her part-- content. Though there's a bittersweet edge, the thought that she could have had some comfort like this for weeks, months, if she could be a little braver.

But she ought to focus, she thinks, on whatever the future might be. And so at length she reaches for his cheek again to pull him down to kiss her, hopeful that this time might be more mutual.