It's a good kiss - unsurprising, given that it's Scully kissing him - and more than anything else, it feels decisive. Settled. Proof positive that he's saying the night, and maybe longer. Mulder cups her cheeks, feeling the edges of her jaw rest against his palm.

"Sure," he says, making no effort to get up - not until he's kissed her again. It's the equivalent of inking a contract, if significantly more enjoyable than discussing legally binding decisions. The question asked: Do you want this, for as long as I want you here? The question answered: I want to be anywhere you are.

Even, it turns out, if that anywhere is cleaning out the fridge. He gets up, a little like he owns the place as he starts walking back toward the kitchen. "Grocery trip tomorrow?"