"That says a lot. It says a lot, a lot, a lot. Probably more than we should be getting into at this late hour." Mulder's voice trailed off as he turned his head toward Scully and found her apparently asleep, her head resting against the back of his couch. For a moment, he considered tapping her gently awake but he thought better of it almost immediately. Their conversation had taken a very unexpected turn and it seemed that slowing things down a bit at this point would be the wiser course. So instead, he pulled the Indian print blanket from the end of the couch and spread it gently over her, tucking it lovingly around her, taking care to cover her bare legs and feet which were stretched out across the coffee table.

He paused for a moment, gazing thoughtfully at her sleeping form, still puzzling over the past few hours' revelations. Some of what Scully had told him tonight came as a mild surprise: her relationship with a married man should have shocked him but didn't. With what he had already known of her liaison with Jack Willis, a textbook father figure, he wasn't terribly surprised to hear that it wasn't her first such experience. The part that had shocked him to his core was the way she seemed to feel her entire life experience was suddenly clear and explained, categorized and tidied up -- all in the space of two days. It was unnerving to say the least, and highly improbable. She was in for a rude awakening, he was certain of that. And how would she react when she realized her 'enlightenment' was only a first step? He was concerned for her. With a last gentle touch of his fingers to her cheek, he rose quietly from the couch and crossed to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

***

An increasing ache in her back, coupled with the scratch of a wooly blanket under her nose woke Scully to the sound of water bubbling next to her head. She opened her eyes to the wavering, watery light from Mulder's fish tank and she smiled. The dream she had just interrupted was both familiar and different. Its imagery was already fading, but she could recall that it had been about Mulder. That was the familiar part. What had seemed strange was the feeling the dream had left her with, one of unease and a vague sense of loss. Not emotions she usually connected with her partner and best friend.

The smile faded from her face as the dream's light chill settled over her. What was it? Not a nightmare, something more subtle. She sat up, moved her legs from the table and pushed the blanket aside, noticing that her feet had fallen asleep. She rubbed absently at the tingle of returning circulation and tried to retrieve the dream, to pin down the source of the uncomfortable sensations it had left in its wake. Again, the sense of loss swept through her, no less vague than the first time but more disturbing because it was accompanied by the image of Mulder, a sad smile on his face, turning away from her. A voice (his?) seemed to speak softly in her mind, 'Too late'.

With all she had learned over the past two days, she felt empowered and in control to a degree she hadn't experienced in a very long time. The past was finally where it belonged and she was ready to move on. The next step wasn't quite so clear. Move on to what?

And suddenly she knew.

***

Mulder was startled out of a dreamless sleep by the mattress dipping slightly away from him. He jerked his eyes open to find Scully's face inches from his own, her hand raised as if to touch him, arrested in mid-motion by his gasp of surprise.

"Oh, Mulder. I'm sorry." Her tone was contrite but her expression was mildly amused. "I didn't mean to startle you. Guess I'm lucky your gun was out of reach." She lowered her hand and tried to read his eyes.

As he came fully awake, Mulder was stunned to realize that, not only was Scully lying next to him under the sheet, but she was - to all appearances - totally nude. The concern for her he had felt earlier tonight now flared into alarm. What in the hell could she be thinking? Well, it was fairly obvious *what* she was thinking. What he couldn't fathom was what moved her to this point, that thought followed immediately by the certain knowledge that this was going to end badly.

His silence was beginning to generate the first flutters of fear in Scully's chest. The upturned corners of her mouth slowly falling, she tried again. "Mulder? Please say something. I've imagined your reaction to this many times, and I have to admit, I'm not seeing the unrestrained glee I was expecting." She tried for another smile, only partially succeeded.

"Scully, I.." He didn't know where to begin. None of the words that were coming to mind held any promise for her understanding.

"What is it? Please tell me what you're feeling, Mulder. I need to know." The flutters of fear had become a thudding dread that she could feel all the way down to her toes.

He tried again. "Scully, I don't know what to say." At least that was honest, if not especially helpful. He knew he was hurting her but he didn't know how to stop and had never felt more off balance in his life.

"It's just.. Well, I guess I'm a little surprised." He gave her a small smile and moved his hand to cover hers where it rested on the sheet between them. "Pleasantly."

He did *not*, she noticed, move any closer to her and in fact seemed to be pulling back almost imperceptibly. It was more a feeling than anything tangible and suddenly the chill of her dream covered her and raised gooseflesh along her bare arms. She thought she knew this man so completely, and yet here she was, face to face with a side of him she had never imagined. He was looking at her with eyes full of... what? compassion? pity? love? No, none of those. It was something more akin to... She froze with the crashing realization. It was the face from her dream. The sad smile. 'Too late.'

"Scully, I know that 'look'. Please stop thinking so hard. You're making more out of this than you should be." His voice was soft and gentle, his eyes kind, as his thumb moved slowly back and forth across her hand, soothing her. "I'm just really worn out and I guess I'm not handling this very well." His smile lost a little of its sadness but something cold squeezed her heart. She began to pull her hand back, her eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry, Mulder," almost tonelessly, "I'll let you get some rest. We'll talk in the morning. I should get going..." She moved back toward the edge of the bed but his hand tightened over hers.

"No, don't go, please. I don't want you to leave like this." His fingers were suddenly cupping her chin, raising her eyes to his. "Why don't you just sleep for a few hours, right here, and we can pick up where we left off when I'm a little less scattered. This has been a rough 48 hours, for both of us." His smile warmed even further and the chill in her heart lessened slightly. 'Okay', she told herself, 'so you may have miscalculated a little, but it's still Mulder and this is still *right*.'

She smiled back. "Okay", very softly. "But I couldn't find a tee shirt to put on." She hadn't looked. "Could you find one for me?"

He pulled the sheet back, got up and walked to the dresser. He was wearing boxers, not nude as she had originally thought from the way his bare leg and chest showed amidst the tangled covers. He got back in bed and handed her the shirt. Suddenly shy, she sat up and turned her back to him to pull the shirt over her head. Suitably covered, she turned back to him with a rueful smile.

"Let's get some sleep," he said as he settled back against the pillow. His expression was warm, but his eyes held something she couldn't identify. Or didn't want to. She lay down next to him, close but not touching.

It wasn't the first time they had shared a bed, but these were very different circumstances and she felt acutely uncomfortable. "I'll go back to the couch," she whispered, but he stopped her with a touch.

"You won't get any rest out there and you know it. Just stay where you are and relax, Scully." He smiled again, this time with some real warmth. "You can trust me."

'That's what I'm afraid of' she thought with a mixture of amusement and mild irritation.

"All right, I'll stay here. Just behave yourself", she could hear the false bravado in her deceptively light tone. He seemed not to notice and turned slightly away from her, partly onto his side.

"Night, Scully." And in a few minutes, he was breathing evenly, deeply asleep.

***

Scully lay on her back staring blankly into the darkness, sleep impossible. What had just happened here? She felt certain that Mulder loved her, deeply and completely. God knows he had shown her to what extremes he would go to keep her safe and by his side, saved her life and her sanity on countless occasions, often at the very real risk that he wouldn't live to enjoy it. And there had always been something under the surface, a half-hidden longing for more than the friendship they allowed themselves. So she had felt no reservations about finally taking the next step, fresh from her journey of self-revelation, full of the surety that her path was clear. Mulder wanted her as she wanted him, she had been certain of that. All he had been waiting for all these years was her consent. And she had just given it in a way that he couldn't have mistaken, yet he had turned her down. There was no way to call it anything else.

She could feel her walls coming back up, denial rising to the surface once again. The cold squeezed at her heart and she closed her eyes against the sting of tears before she mentally grabbed hold of herself. No going back, Scully. Haven't you learned anything? Backpedaling at this point was exactly what she had braced herself against before she walked into this room, however she hadn't really thought for a moment that Mulder wouldn't welcome her advances. So, Dr Scully,what is your next move? Where is that famous analytical mind when you really need it? He was surprised and he was exhausted, you knew that. What had he said? 'Don't read more into this than there is.'? She was trying desperately not to do just that, in more ways than he had probably intended.

She turned carefully toward him and allowed her gaze to rest adoringly on his face, turned away from her in quarter profile, and her heart swelled with a love so overpowering that her breath caught. She couldn't imagine her life without him. Then her dream came back to her with sudden clarity and chilled her to the bone. 'Too late...'

No, it wasn't possible. She couldn't allow herself to even entertain the thought that her relentless self-absorption had finally stretched his patience beyond the point of caring. Despite herself, the dreadful possibility of a life without his love taunted her and she could actually feel her heart crumble with the awful understanding that he may have made his peace with their relationship and moved on. Without her.

Stop it! You're doing exactly what he asked you not to do. Reading volumes into a simple honest plea for patience and understanding. But the ache in her heart remained, tinged with self-recrimination and regret. Suddenly she couldn't face the thought of him waking up next to her, his eyes telling her much more than she was ready to know.

Careful not to wake him, she moved quietly out of the bed and crossed to the bathroom. The glare of the light assaulted her eyes when she unthinkingly flipped the switch. She glanced back over her shoulder toward the bed, but his face was still turned away and he hadn't moved. Good. She couldn't face him right now. She needed to think, to get herself under control and push away the doubts that threatened to catapult her back from the peace she had thought was finally hers.

Her eyes in the mirror made her catch her breath. No peace there. Only a deep pain that shook her to her core. ‘No', she told herself as she dressed, ‘I won't allow it.' She had never been more convinced of anything in her life: Mulder and she were meant to be together. No other outcome was possible-- or bearable, she reminded herself.

She walked back into the bedroom and stopped at the foot of the bed to pick up her jacket. As she pulled it on, she looked once more at Mulder's sleeping face. Are you dreaming of me, Mulder? *Do* you dream of me, or is that time past for us? 'No', she shook herself mentally, 'I'm ready to do whatever it takes to make things right between us, no matter what.'

As she closed the apartment door softly behind her, one thought consumed her: "It can't be too late."

***