They're a couple of dweebs sitting there on a borrowed couch, and Mulder couldn't care less. He wraps his arms around her as she settles in against his chest, his cock slipping wetly out and lying soft against his leg. All he's ever wanted is this closeness, and the inherent trust that comes with it. Scully's a singular comfort in a discomfiting world; her presence is the one thing that always makes sense, even when nothing about her presence actually makes sense.
"Sure," he agrees, brushing a gentle kiss over her hairline. "Just you and me. I'm at your service."
A quiet day, the two of them living like they're supposed to be here together. She might get a taste of the reality of what their life together was like - the better parts of it, at least. If they can't find anything else to go on, at least they can enjoy their time together.
(And maybe it'll give them time to figure things out. Maybe it's like watching Plan 9 - he lets his mind wander along some kind of fantasia over Scully's existence, and free association leads to a way to save her.)
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"Sure," he agrees, brushing a gentle kiss over her hairline. "Just you and me. I'm at your service."
A quiet day, the two of them living like they're supposed to be here together. She might get a taste of the reality of what their life together was like - the better parts of it, at least. If they can't find anything else to go on, at least they can enjoy their time together.
(And maybe it'll give them time to figure things out. Maybe it's like watching Plan 9 - he lets his mind wander along some kind of fantasia over Scully's existence, and free association leads to a way to save her.)