He lay beside her, propped up on one elbow, watching her sleep. He was still in awe that he was here, that she had invited him, welcomed him into her bed. Part of him was still reeling from the . . . the honor. Hokey word, but true.
This was still so new. They hadn’t been together enough to make a decent honeymoon, but he was working on that. In his 40 years, he’d never known anything even close to this.
Because of the heat they had generated, the sheet was only pulled up enough to cover her hips. Her breasts and her damn sexy abdomen were exposed to him. He’d never been a stomach man before, but with her every part drew him. Hell, he could probably spend hours fondling her toes. Must be an X-File. But the best part was the fact that she, Dana Scully, was lying here nude and completely vulnerable to him. That had been hard won, for this woman to let her guard down enough to feel this safe with him.
Their bodies in synch finally, he would have said things were going perfectly between them. Until tonight.
Tonight as he held her while they both returned to themselves after the mind-blowing sex, she had cried. Not sobbed, not buried her face in his chest and wept, just a few tears, but he’d been terrified. The big brave G-man reduced to a quivering mass by a few drops of salty fluid because they came from the eyes of Scully, his Scully. Nothing had been said. The fear had left him speechless and she had drifted off to sleep.
For the first time since she had become ‘his’, he couldn’t sleep. He knew nightmares awaited him tonight.
Had he hurt her? In his enthusiasm, his delight in her body, had he been too rough? Would she tell him if he were? Not the kind of thing they had ever discussed.
Or maybe she’d just had a bad day. But he’d been there for her day, Kersh hadn’t been seen. No one had come down on them as far as he was aware. Had there been a Mrs. Spooky comment in the ladies’ room? Had someone noted their new closeness and made her uncomfortable? He could understand that, it was why he had insisted on discretion even more than she had. Being his partner certainly hadn’t won her any friends at the Bureau. Could work, normal work, cause Scully to cry?
Maybe she wasn’t feeling well. He had kind of forced his way over tonight. But he’d know if she were ill, wouldn’t he? It wasn’t the cancer, though the very thought caused a sick feeling in his stomach. No, she’d seen her oncologist just a few weeks ago and she’d been given a clean bill of health. He’d seen the report. Once she realized that the check ups were as important for his well-being as her own, she’d begun to share them. Another sign of their closeness.
Or . . . shit, maybe she’d decided this was a huge mistake and didn’t know how to tell him. It wasn’t a mistake. Nothing in his life had ever been less of a mistake. But for her . . . oh god, for her. Maybe she had realized . . .
Shit, had he woken her? “Go back to sleep Baby.”
She ignored that, “Can’t you sleep?”
“Scully are you all right?” He couldn’t help it; he had to know.
“All right?” She gave him a puzzled smile. “Any more all right and I don’t think I could stand it.”
“Then . . . “ He hesitated again and her hand caressed his cheek.
“Why were you crying, earlier?”
She looked at him more closely; he was truly worried. She felt herself fall a little more in love with the man. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep?”
“Scully - “
She reached up and tugged his face toward her. “Don’t you recognize tears of joy when you see them?”
His lips parted in surprise and she took advantage of the fact, suckling on his lower lip before slipping her tongue into his eager mouth.
When she drew back, she saw that his eyes had grown moist. “Any more questions, Mulder?”
He just shook his head, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead as he drew her closer and let his eyes drift close.