We settle down on the couch as the opening credits of
"Caddyshack" flicker across the TV screen. Less than
halfway through the movie, we've both finished our
beers and as much of the popcorn as we care for. I
slide my arm along Scully's shoulders and pull her
closer. She responds by smiling at me, then kicking
off her shoes and drawing her legs up beneath her.

After a few minutes, she turns her head and looks at
me. When I shift my focus of attention from the screen to her face, she leans in and kisses me softly. "Do you want to turn off the movie?" I murmur.

"No," she whispers. "I just wanted a kiss. Is that
okay?"

"It's fine, Scully." That's one of the things I've had to work on since our relationship became intimate - convincing Scully that it's okay for her to touch me, kiss me, even when she doesn't want sex. Of course, I also have to work on convincing certain parts of my own anatomy that a kiss or a snuggle isn't necessarily an invitation to jump her!

By the time the final, climatic scene is being played
out, we've shifted into our favorite TV watching
position. I am flat on my back - or as flat as you can get on a futon, anyway - with my head turned toward the television. Scully is lying on top of me. That's how Scully likes to fall asleep, too; not next to me, not even beside me, but on top of me. I use one hand to smooth the hair back from her face and move the other hand down to her ass and squeeze gently. I'm still amazed by the fact that I can touch her there and not get shot.

"Caddyshack" ends and I can tell from Scully's even
breathing that she has fallen asleep. I use the remote to flick off the TV and pull the afghan on top of the couch down to cover both of us. I remember the last time Scully feel asleep on my couch; she ended up in my bed, in my arms and finally, after seven long years of fantasizing about such a moment, I ended up in her. . .

I take a deep breath and try to calm down. Scully is
sleeping. She'll still be here in the morning; plenty
of time then to resume the activities we've pursued
frequently over the past six weeks. Instead, I turn my thoughts to the Jeannie. Scully would say Jen wasn't a Jeannie and try to come up with all kinds of rational, scientific reasons why everything we'd seen over the past few days had occurred.

Even Jen had seemed surprised when, after botching my
first wish and using my second wish to undo it, I
lifted the spell with my third wish. But, honestly,
altruism hadn't worked. As for a more selfish wish. .
.a few months earlier, I might have wished to know my
sister's fate, but I've finally found out what
happened to Samantha. Other than that, what do I have? Let's see. I've got a job I love and it comes with the bonus of not being the kind of job anyone is anxious to try to take away from me. I've got more than enough money, thanks to some prudent investing on the part of my grandparents and the fact that I was the sole beneficiary of both my parents' wills. I don't have a lot of friends, and the ones I've got are a trio of paranoid geeks, but they're loyal beyond the limits of what any man has a right to expect.

Most of all, I have Scully. A beautiful, kindhearted,
intelligent woman whom I love to distraction. A woman
who loves me, too. What more could a man wish for?