Scully is humming.

Not singing, not words. Just a happy little indiscernible tune, coming from deep in her chest. The sound invaded my dreams like a soft wind, making me wake up smiling. I lie with my eyes still closed, listening to that remarkable sound. Listening closely, I try to imagine where she is and what is causing her to do such an extraordinary thing. Sighing contentedly, I add this sound to a whole library of new Scully sounds I’ve learned in the past few days. All right, water running, pan clanking – Scully is in the kitchen.

Managing to crack open one eye, I pick up my watch off the bedside table. Summoning up enough strength to focus, I read 10:13 a.m. The last time I looked at my watch, it read 5:28 a.m. I groan softly as I hold a quick debate with myself over whether to pull the covers over my head or get up. My bladder wins the argument, insisting that a trip to the bathroom is top priority. Besides, I smell coffee perking, and Scully is still humming.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, I hunt for my clothes. Jeans and briefs I find, but my tee shirt has disappeared. Padding softly across the hall, I enter Scully’s bathroom. Remnants of last night’s bubble-bath-for-two remain. Scully has piled the used towels in the corner, reminding me that I have promised a trip to the laundromat today. I take care of my nagging bladder, and follow my nose to the kitchen where I find my tee shirt.

Scully is humming and wearing my tee shirt. And, evidently, nothing else. I stand in the doorway for a minute admiring the way it looks on her, when she looks up from reading the coffee can label. A coy smile replaces the humming, and I immediately miss the sound. But another sound takes its place, the sound of Scully’s voice, and I am content.

She smiles that only-for-Mulder smile that I have recently found. As she touches my arm, Dr. Scully appears. She inquires about my injured arm, and I let her fuss over it.

I assure her that all is well, and accept a cup of coffee. One of the few things we actually have in common is a lack of interest in breakfast, preferring to wait until later in the day for food.

I’m grinning like a Cheshire cat as I watch the way my shirt covers but doesn’t cover up her body. Scully colors as she realizes what is causing my smile. I admire how it fits and she giggles.

Suddenly we are a little embarrassed to be acting like teenagers. We both find other things to look at, standing next to each other, drinking coffee and looking out the window. Scully comments on Skinner’s demand that we take time off after our experience on New Year’s Eve. I wonder if he meant for us to take it together. She laughs softly at my remark. Shifting my coffee cup to my injured arm, I put the other around her shoulders, and sigh as she leans into my side.

This is right. This is the feeling I’ve missed for so long. Scully is my other half, my missing pieces. She fits perfectly into the hole in my soul. Together, we are whole; apart, we are broken. With her, my universe makes sense.

I set the cup down and turn her to face me. Those beautiful blue eyes are bright with anticipation. My eyes hungrily search hers for the answer to my unspoken question. As I lower my lips to hers, I feel her arms slide around my unclothed body.

The kiss seems to last forever, but too soon is over. I open my eyes to see her flushed face, and watch her gasp as I reach under my tee shirt to cup her breasts with my hands. Her nipples harden immediately, and her breath comes in short pants. I roll her nubs between my fingers, and she moans. I lift the shirt up over her head, and replace fingers with my lips. As I move my hands down to her waist, I feel her tugging at my waistband. She finally frees the stubborn button, and slides the zipper down. My fingers have moved down to find that throbbing center of her sex.

I realize that Scully is naked, and we are standing (barely) in her kitchen. With a few murmured words, we manage to reach the bedroom. As we tumble into the bed, Scully is making funny little moaning sounds deep in her throat. This is a sound I have learned to love, knowing what it foretells. She pushes me onto my back, and straddles me. I can feel her body humming with excitement, as she tugs off my jeans and briefs. My penis springs into life, and she hungrily mouths it. I reach for her and turn her body so that I can taste her moist center. Her breasts brush my abdomen, adding to the unbelievable senses I am experiencing. As my tongue darts in and out, I feel her humming in her throat. Reaching with my hand, I find hot nipples and warm breasts, and Scully groans again.

With all my willpower, I stop her suckling. Although it is a marvelous feeling, it isn’t how I want this to conclude. She turns around and slides me into her, clutching tightly with her vagina muscles. We begin the dance, moving in perfect rhythm. Our hearts beat in time with our thrusts, speeding up as we move toward that exquisite conclusion. With a gasp and a cry, Scully climaxes, and as I feel the waves of her passion, I arch into her and fill her. As our ragged breath slows, I hold her against my chest.

With all the mistakes I have made in my life, it is a miracle when I make the right choice. And my miracle is here, right now. Scully is humming.