Mulder thinks he can feel her relax, but whether that's syncing or just her muscles losing their tension, he couldn't say. Both? It might be both. Synchrony with Scully is nothing like synchrony with anyone else, based on his limited experience; it's just sitting with her, maybe feeling slightly warmer than usual.

"Good." There are plants starting to peek through the cracks in the asphalt, growing leisurely over their shoes. These are the dark green ground cover of wood anemone - if they sit here long enough, delicate white flowers might bloom around their toes. More importantly, Scully's exactly who she always is, but nearer: her cheek at his shoulder, the scent of her coffee rising towards his face.

If she wants to talk, she'll talk. Until then, he's quiet, letting himself indulge in her nearness.