AN: Disclaimer: I wrote this at 2am in recognition of the sex on our screens last night.

Dedicated to Caribs and Sam for their consistent love and hounding. X

Mulder towelled himself off in front of the motel mirror, his mind racing at the fact that his partner was in the next room getting ready for bed. With him.

Meanwhile, what the hell was she thinking? Was she actually proposing they sleep in the same bed tonight? Even when motels didn't have enough rooms they've always figured something out, but a compromise like this was never the outcome.

'Technically we're not on a case.'

'The next motel is 50 minute drive.'

Right..

The Dana Scully he knows would have made the drive. In fact the Dana Scully he knows would have never come, she would have just blasted him from the other end of a phone and told him to get his ass back to the office.

He sucked in a breath. Fine. If she didn't have a problem sleeping in the same bed after all these years, neither would he. He'll just play it cool, waltz back in there like it's nothing, throw on his boxers and get into bed.

With her.

Fuck.

He opened the bathroom door before he could change his mind, steam spilling from his feet as he moved through the threshold. He spies her from behind, dressed down to a white tank top and light purple pyjama bottoms. She's rifling through her suitcase and he tries not to linger on the way her pyjamas hug her backside.

He rounds the bed, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and he grabs a t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers from his bag. He feels her eyes on him but he doesn't meet her stare, instead he tugs on the t-shirt before his hands reach for his boxers and he slips them on beneath the towel before tossing the damp cloth onto the desk chair opposite the bed.

When his eyes finally meet with hers, she is just watching him, toothbrush and toothpaste clasped in her hands, transfixed like she's at a goddamned U2 concert.

His eyebrows raise at her boldness.

"Are you right?" he says with a smirk.

Because fuck it. He's calling her on it. She's not one for subtly tonight and he needs her to quit it if he's going to be getting any sleep tonight.

Her eyes finally move away from his.

"Didn't pick you for being modest Mulder," she says with a smile.

The comment lands between them but he's quick.

"Didn't pick you for hitting on your partner Scully," his tone is gravel deep and he stares at her almost accusingly.

That jars her a little, her eyes flit between his, seemingly at a loss for a comeback for the time being. She hadn't expected the bravado but in true Scully form she simply leaves him with a nonchalant look before making her way into the bathroom.

He hears sounds of water running as she brushes her teeth and he turns down the comforter. He's trying to play it cool but inside he has no idea what the hell has gotten into her and what the hell he is supposed to do about it.

When she returns from the bathroom she pulls down the sheets and he's unable to help himself. She had removed her bra in the bathroom and his eyes slip down to her breasts as she bends over the bed. She slides in, the mattress bowing beneath her weight and Mulder feels himself tilting in her direction from the motion. She doesn't seem concerned with keeping a respectful distance or retaining personal space.

"Speaking of modesty," he indicates, his eyes slipping down to her breasts, her nipples now painfully erect through her tank.

He's propped up on one elbow, just watching as she lies back and eyes the ceiling.

"In my mad rush to save your job, this is all I have." Her tone sounds less than amused but her body language says otherwise.

A few beats pass as he just stares at her.

"Lucky me," he whispers.

The hint of a smile plays across her lips as she closes her eyes.

Silence invades their moment before her hand comes out, patting the bed beside her with her eyes closed, hunting for the remote between them, trying to shut off the muted TV that was blinking back at her. Her hand brushes his chest stilling momentarily before she grasps the remote and shivers run through his body.

She clicks the TV off, the only remaining light coming from his bedside lamp and she looks over at him questioningly, her eyes raking across his stubble before she is moving upward. His chest pounds then, thinking she is moving up for a kiss but she is reaching over him, her breasts pressing intimately into his chest as she clicks off the lamp, a small sound of exertion coming from the back of her throat from the motion.

They're encased in darkness now, the moonlight catching the outline of her mouth and he's done with restraint. His palm slides across her cheek, drawing up her mouth down to his and pressing their lips together in a deep lingering peck. He waits a few beats before he is opening her lips with his, her breath hitching as he pulls her top lip between his and gently sucks. She exhales against his mouth, her fingers pressing into his ribcage as she moves up to deepen the kiss. His tongue slides in then, and he catches her breathy response, his teeth gently nipping at her lower lip as his hands rake through her hair.

Their lips part with a slick pop, jagged breaths intermingling as his lips tease hers with a featherlike touches. He can feel her mouth desperate to reclaim his once more but he holds her at a distance, just out of reach.

"Just make sure you keep to your side of the bed Scully," he murmurs against her mouth. "We've got a long drive in the morning."

It takes a few beats for her to register what he said. Her eyebrows raising in the darkness as if she's trying to gauge if any part of him is serious.

"Not funny Mulder," she whispers, her voice a few octaves lower before she is moving forward, pressing her mouth against his once more. He smiles against her mouth as her insistent lips part against his.

"Not funny at all," he mumbles against her mouth.

The End.

Lol.

AN: Not funny at all I know..