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Scully wakes slowly, drifting into consciousness. She takes inventory, smiling when she feels Mulder behind her, his arm slung over her waist. They don’t always have the luxury of sleeping in. Not even at their age. But today, on Sunday, they do.
Happiness floods her, filling the cracks time and their life have carved into her. Their separation, their son, her mother. There’s so much grief and darkness that will forever follow them. She’s tried to outrun them once. Now she knows that she can’t. They can’t. All they can do is weather any storm together.
“Good morning,” Mulder mumbles sleepily against her neck, kissing her there.
“Morning.” She snuggles back into him, his body a solid wall of heat behind her. Her hand is on his arm, stroking it gently. She’s smiling against her pillow, but of course, he can’t see that.
“Can feel you smile,” he says in that morning-hoarse voice of his, making her chuckle. He knows her too well. And she’s glad he does. She moves back into him, slow and questioning. “Hmm, woke up a bit horny, did ya?” His lips move from her neck to her shoulder, driving her half insane.
“Maybe,” she concedes. After all these years, he still has that effect on her. She still feels like they have to make up for time lost.
“I’m not a young man anymore, Scully. I thought maybe we could just…”
“Could what?” She turns around in his arms, looking at him. His hair is spiky, his eyes full of sleep. He, too, is smiling. Warm and soft. Her Mulder.
“Cuddle.” He averts his eyes, sounds shy. “I thought we could just cuddle.”
“I love cuddling with you,” she says, touching his cheek. To prove her point, she wiggles closer, craving his nearness. He tightens his arm around her, making her feel heard, feel safe. She buries her nose in the crook of his neck, taking in his warmth, his scent. This is all she needs.
“I missed this,” he admits. “I missed the sex, too, but this- I missed this most of all. I missed you.” She hums against his skin, leaving a kiss against the pale scar where she shot him over two decades ago.
“You have me.” It’s a promise. They just hold each other, and Scully feels herself drift back to sleep, lost in this cocoon of love. That is until she hears the soft whining from behind the bedroom door.
“Daggoo,” Mulder groans. “He needs to grow thumbs so he can open the door himself.” He detangles himself from her body and gets up from the bed to let their dog in. The small, white furball comes running with his tail wagging.
“We could just let him sleep in here,” Scully says as Mulder slips back into bed. He slings his arm back around her. Daggoo stares at them, his tongue hanging out. He puts one paw up on the bed, trying to see what happens. Mulder hasn’t seen it yet and Scully nods at the dog, who immediately jumps up.
“You two conspiring against me?” Mulder mumbles as Daggoo walks around in a circle before plopping down next to Mulder’s head.
“He just wants to cuddle, too,” Scully says, stroking the dog’s soft fur.
“Just because it’s Sunday,” Mulder says, and seeing that his eyes are closed again, Scully winks at Daggoo. “I saw that, you know. Fine. He can stay in here from now on if that means we can cuddle more.” Scully smiles and leaves one last kiss against his shoulder before she snuggles back against him.