As we stand outside Tony's hospital door, I remember a previous conversation with one of the deputies.

"Hey, there is one thing I want us to do before we
head back to headquarters. The other deputy said he'd
take us back out there, show us an outcropping of rock near the cave that's also been rumored to have some of the same qualities."

"Mulder, I really don't think there's any reason for
us to go back there."

"It's probably nothing Scully. But could we just run
by there for a few minutes? Please? For me?" I say
with a grin. I'm parroting the words she said to me a
couple of days ago and, for good measure, I mimic her
actions as well. She was fiddling with my tie and the
buttons on my shirt when she gave me this speech. I
make do with her necklace, running my fingers along
the chain and lifting the cross gently.

She rolls her eyes at me, but smiles and says, "Okay,
Mulder."

When we arrive at the site where we parked yesterday
evening, I remember to mention what else the deputy
told me. "Oh, yeah. It may be a while before the
deputy gets here. He had some paperwork to finish up
first."

"So what are we going to do while we wait for the
deputy?" Scully asks me, one eyebrow quirking up.

"Well, it *IS* the local make out spot, Scully," I say with a grin.

"Mul-der," she says rolling her eyes.

This is weird. For the past few moments, neither of us have said anything. Scully's just sitting there,
looking at me with this odd, amused expression on her
face. Finally, it hits me. What she just said. Or, to
be more precise, what she DIDN'T say. She didn't say
"In your dreams, Mulder." or "We're not teenagers,
Mulder." Or anything that would indicate she has any
objections to what I've just suggested. She's just. .
.sitting there. Like she's waiting for me to make a
move.

Oh, shit! I might as well *BE* a teenager, given the
sudden attack of nerves that just hit me. Scully's
smiling at me now. God, she's gorgeous when she
smiles! I lean over cup her face with my hand, then
brush her lips with mine. The kiss lasts slightly
longer than the one on New Year's Eve last week and
when I finally lift my mouth just a fraction, she
smiles against my lips.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully?"

"You know how, sometimes, I say "Shut up, Mulder"
because I want you to keep your mouth closed?'

"Yeah?"

"Now would not be one of those times."

It takes me a moment to get what she's suggesting,
then I grin. "Why, Dana. Katherine. Scully," I say,
dropping a tiny kiss on her lips after each word.
Teasing Scully has been my favorite indoor sport for a *LONG* time, but she's just raised the stakes. "Are
you saying you want me to put my tongue in your" my
words get cut off then. Because Scully's just locked
her lips onto mine and thrust her tongue into my
mouth. That's my Scully. She's never one to stand on
ceremonies or let us get locked into sexist
stereotypes. What Scully wants, she goes after.

I let her control the kiss for a few moments; just
when I can sense she's about to pull back in
embarassment, I turn the tables on her. I start
kissing her back. Hard. Using my superior weight and
upper body strength to press her back against the seat and letting my tongue dance against hers. When we finally come up for air, we're both gasping and
smiling.

I keep one hand against her face and, without
conscious thought, allow the other one to drop to her
breast. Her eyes go wide and she gulps in another
breath.

"I'm sorry," I say, beginning to pull my hand away.
Kissing is one thing, but apparently this is a bit too much for Scully. She shakes her head and stops me with a hand on my arm.

"I just wasn't expecting to be touched there. I like
it, Mulder."

I smile at her and begin to drop tiny kisses along her neck. I stroke her breast gently with my thumb and, even through the cashmere of her sweater and the lace of her bra, I can feel her nipple pucker in response. What surprises me is the lack of urgency I feel. For years, I've felt that if I ever got in a situation like this with Scully, things would move at warp speed. Instead, despite the tightness in my groin, I'm quite content to just kiss her, nuzzle her, fondle her a bit. I can't remember when I've last been this happy. Maybe I never have.

I move my mouth back to hers and we kiss again. Long,
wet and deep. I let my hand slide down her rib cage to her hips and she places a hand on my chest. At first I think she's just fiddling with my buttons, like she was when she was flirting with me in the hallway of the police station, but then I realize she's actually unbuttoning my shirt. I've got no idea where she's going with this, but I can't wait to find out.

Unfortunately, I don't find out, because just then
there's a loud knocking on my window.

"Hey! Break it up in there. Step out of the vehicle
and let me see some identification."

I unroll the window and find myself looking directly
into the face of the deputy we came out here to meet.

"Oh, it's you Agent Mulder. And Agent Scully. Sorry.
When I saw the windows were all steamed up, I just
assumed. . ."

"Actually," Scully says, sounding remarkably composed
for a woman who's just spent the last ten minutes in a make-out session, "a car's windows will steam up just from a couple of people sitting inside it and
talking."

"That's what they all say," the deputy says with a
grin. "You two ready to see what we came out here
for?"

"Yeah," I agree, reaching for the door handle, but
Scully stops me with a hand on my arm.

"We'll be with you in just a moment, deputy," she
calls out. As soon as the deputy has moved a few feet
away, she brushes her thumb across my lips. "You know, Mulder, I think we'll stand a better chance of being taken seriously by local law enforcement officers if you don't have my lipstick smeared all over your mouth."

"I guess it might help if I button my shirt all the
way, too," I suggest.

She nods and we smile at each other, then exit the
car.