Summary: A collection of drabbles and snippets from throughout the years of Mulder and Scully's relationship. Ratings may escalate.

Disclaimer: I don't own The X-Files or anything I may mention in the following text. (Side note: are these actually necessary?)

A/N: More X-Files trash in no particular order. This is basically going to be a place to drop all of my one shots and snippets when I can't be bothered to turn them into full stories- there are a lot, because Mulder and Scully own my ass. I'm thinking of doing one for Han and Leia, too. And if anyone has any suggestions, feel free to drop them by me on here or Tumblr! Enjoy and don't hesitate to review x

Sortis

Astra inclinant, sed non obligant.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us.

NATIONAL PARK, MARYLAND 20th FEBRUARY, 2000

It feels like the most natural thing in the world to reach out and hold Fox Mulder's hand in this gentle, earthly silence, so she does so without thinking.

She catches herself an instant too late, and her fingers are wrapped around his before the thought of any consequences reach her mind, so she stays perfectly still and tries to act like nothing has happened.

Mulder looks at her. She can't meet his eyes.

"My stories got you scared, Scully?"

Truth be told, she hasn't been listening to him at all for the last few minutes, but he can't know that. Instead she tries to act nonchalant and settles for her de facto response to whenever he renders her speechless.

"Shut up, Mulder."

She tries to pull her hand from his, but to her surprise he tightens his grip; not enough to prevent her from moving away if she chooses, but enough to tell her that he wants her there, he likes the contact.

Sparks travel up her arm, reminding her of the way her lips had felt when he kissed her on New Year's and sending warmth to her heart. She keeps her hand in his, still avoiding eye contact, and lets him entwine his fingers with hers.

They've held hands before. This isn't anything new.

So why is her heart racing so much?

They both fall quiet, letting the birds and trees make conversation as they keep walking. The forest is beautiful. They haven't passed anyone for over half an hour, and here, on the beaten track surrounded by dappled sunlight and sir still with reverence, the world seems to become obsolete. There is only her, him, the hushed noise of nature and the steady pulse of their hearts, felt through two hands, interwoven.

She feels safe.

She feels safe, and she can't remember the last time that happened.

Mulder's thumb begins to rub over her hand in gentle, absent-minded circles, only relaxing her muscles more. Again, it feels natural, and despite the novelty within a minute or so it's as easy as breathing. Isn't everything with him?

The ground starts to level out, relieving them of the uphill slope they have been climbing for the past few minutes, and now, as the path starts to head into the open, Mulder steps behind her and covers her eyes.

"Mulder!" There's laughter in her voice even as she complains.

He keeps his hands in place. She can hear him smiling. "Keep walking, Scully."

"I can't see where I'm going. I'll fall over."

"Okay, just keep your eyes shut." Mulder tells her, dropping his hands to her shoulders and squeezing once, briefly. "Humour me."

They walk like that, his hands guiding her as she places blind faith in him once more. With her eyes closed, Scully's other senses are heightened; she can feel the heat from Mulder's hands seeping through her jacket, and the sounds of the birds in the trees seem to intensify as they walk, filling her entire being.

It seems like both eternity and the briefest of moments before Mulder applies the slightest pressure to her shoulders, and she knows him well enough to know he means stop. They stay in silence for a second before she feels his voice, warm and light against her neck, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"Open your eyes."

She does. They are at the top of a hill, sheltered on either side by evergreens stretching out over the drop off in front of them. Large boulders form a barrier between them and the slope downwards, not impassable but still a challenging obstacle to continuing onwards. Not that she particularly needs, or wants, to, though: the view from here is stunning.

Even though it's still winter, the sky is clear and the sun warms her face as she looks out over the forest ahead. The trees are evergreen and deciduous alike, creating a mismatched pattern over the rolling hills, and she squints out at the blanket of branches and leaves, trying to measure the distance in her mind. There's not one sign of human life- the woodland lies untouched, pure, perfect, in stark contrast to the sprawling city of DC.

"Like it?"

"It's beautiful." It's an understatement. Even the bare, barren trees have a sense of ancient beauty about them, and they spread as far as she can see, over the hills into the distance, an ever shifting mix of greens and browns that remind her of Mulder's eyes.

The cool breeze stirs the hairs against her neck, and when she raises her hand to automatically push the strands behind her ear she is shocked by the presence of his fingers there already, doing the job for her. He plants a whisper of a kiss to the now exposed skin there as his hand returns to rest on her shoulder, and she wonders if he can feel her pulse thrumming beneath the surface.

"Happy birthday, Scully."

She doesn't know what makes her do it. Maybe it's the silence, or the warmth of the sun, or the happy singing of the birds all around them. She's been in many beautiful places with him, and he's created even more inside of her with his presence, but none compare to this moment right here. This moment where anything feels possible, and she's never felt more alive. Maybe, in the end, that's why she does it.

She turns to face him and his hand moves to her cheek, not moving, just resting there and waiting for her to make the next move.

Scully feels her lips drift upwards as she guides Mulder's face down to hers, and once they meet in the middle she can feel him smiling back. It is their second kiss, but their first for any number of reasons.

Their first initiated by her, their first that they both knew was coming, their first away from prying eyes… their first real kiss.

She had almost forgotten what his lips felt like- those seconds on New Years' didn't last nearly long enough, and by the time she'd come to her senses and tried to memorise every detail he was already pulling away. This time there's no rush, but her mind goes blank again, because this is Mulder she's kissing, Mulder who she's loved and hated and fought with and fought for and fought beside for all this time, Mulder who she will gladly give her life for, Mulder who makes her feel a way no one ever has done previously… and then he breaks them apart, and she curses herself for not paying attention.

He is about to say something but she uses a new method to shut him up, capturing his lips with her own again and this time focussing on every breath, every movement, every spark of heat and love flying between them. Mulder shuts up a lot more willingly that usual.

The kiss feels like the past seven years and all the heartache and joy and horror they entailed all rolled into one. He tastes of sunlight and stars and every answer to every question she has ever asked, which makes sense because he is the answer to most of them, and the entire world crystallises into this one, perfect moment where nothing else matters.

It feels like coming home.

It isn't even her birthday yet.