Disclaimer: I do not own The X Files. And I really should be getting some sleep! It's much too late to be writing! But this one wouldn't leave me alone either! It really is only rated T.

Scully's thoughts are in italics. The words in bold and italics are the opening monologue of "all things". They are what inspired this piece. Along with the song, "The Sky is Broken" by Moby.

Enjoy. :-)

Time passes in moments.
Moments which, rushing past, define the path of a life.
Just as surely as they lead towards its end.

The first thing Scully noticed was her ear. It was cold. Her hair had been brushed back behind it as she slept – not something she generally did. There was a scratchy blanket tucked up underneath her chin, and it made her skin itch. Her head had lulled to one side as she fell asleep. The kink in her neck was excruciating. Forcing open her heavy eyes, Scully took in her surroundings. For a moment, nothing seemed familiar in the soft glowing light. Then she smelled the cologne. It was masculine, but not overpowering. Gentle.

Mulder…

Everything fell into place in a rush as she recognized his apartment. I must've fallen asleep in the middle of our conversation. Her first instinct brought the blush of shame to her cheeks. But she'd learned much in the past few days, and embarrassment no longer held sway over her emotions. Particularly not where he was concerned. She knew he would not only forgive, but understand her fatigue. As he seemed to understand everything else about her. She blinked and stared at the fish tank – the toy U.F.O. bobbing serenely in the water. A smile graced her features, and she leaned her head back again.

Her eye caught the window next. She could still see remnants of tape in the lower right-hand pane. A beacon-call for aide long since silenced. Who would help them now? The bullet hole in the wall above her. She traced the faint scar on her brow. Mulder had one, too. From the night she'd been taken away – barely aware of what had happened in the moments leading up to black.

How rarely do we stop to examine that path.
To see the reasons why all things happen.
To consider whether the path we take in life is our own making,
Or simply one into which we drift with eyes closed.

"You've kept me honest. Made me a whole person."

Words flooded through her. Feelings. There was caring – warmth. No, she told herself. Not warmth. Heat. His strong hands on her neck; his thumb stroked her cheek. Her heart hammering in her chest as his lips descended. And then there was pain. Scully shut her eyes, forcing away the unpleasant. She focused instead on the moment before, running her fingers over her lips. They tingled at the touch, as she imagined his soft mouth on hers. The one line they couldn't cross.

But what if we could stop…
Pause to take stock of each precious moment before it passes.
Might we then see the endless forks in the road that have shaped a life?

She stood – the blanket falling to the floor in a pool of lost inhibitions. The apartment was dark, but she knew it as well as her own. His blanket had shifted as he slept, a slight sheen of sweat beading on his brow. A low moan escaped him as his eyes moved frantically under their lids. Nightmare.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she traced the lines of his face. Too many. He was too young for such burdens. They both were. He relaxed, opening his eyes. She brought a finger to his lips – first to silence, and then to sense. They parted, and she could feel his hot breath caress her hand as he stared up at her. Perhaps he thought he was dreaming still. Perhaps they both were.

And, seeing those choices…
Choose another path?

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. Tomorrow there would be awkward questions, but the future would take care of itself. Sighing into his mouth, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders as he ran his hands through her hair.

No more wandering…

Holy cow! Don't know where that came from. You like? Or is it gibberish? Let me know, please! I'm seriously wondering about this one… :-P