Mulder and Krycek were fucking.
They were fucking on a sagging mattress in a cheap motel where the curtains wouldn't close all the way and the vacancy light flashed red in Mulder's eyes.
There was sweat on Mulder's upper lip. He couldn't remember stopping the car, let alone undressing. Let alone who had even started this.
It occurred to Mulder that he wasn't thinking very clearly.
Afterwards, Mulder pulled on his clothes. Krycek stared.
"I can't sleep," Mulder said. "Let's drive."
Krycek sighed, then started to dress.
Mulder jangled his car keys. "We'll find her," he said. "We'll find her."