Author's Notes: This is the first MSR I had ever written. And it's a *happy* story. Am I going mad? you ask. No. I just decided that after watching "Milagro" I needed to do a happy MSR. But don't worry. I still believe that Mulder and Krycek belong together. And Scully deserves much better than either. C'mon, now. You really think that either of the boys is a match for the strong and beautiful Dr. Dana Scully? Yeah, that's what I thought.

A Happy MSR

written by Strausser

Scully sat back against the black leather of Mulder’s couch. Her painted lips curved lightly to a smile. Ever since Paget’s novel, she found the part of herself that she thought dead. The part of her that could love, and be loved. The part that deserved the perfect fulfilling love that only one man could provide. And that man was in the kitchen pouring them tall glasses of iced tea.

“How’s it coming?” she asked languidly. Every muscle in her body relaxed against the soft creases of the couch. Never before had she felt so at home. Maybe that was because she felt most wanted here, in apartment forty-two.

Mulder’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Almost ready, Scully.”

She smiled again, remembering their conversation five minutes ago. She had told him what was in her heart, that she loved him, and he had done the same. It was the brightest point in her entire life, better than chocolate, better than graduating from college at the top of her class. Better than sex, and that made her giggle. He saw her for who she was, what she was, more than any man could, more than Paget. Paget had told her that she was already in love, and it took near-death for her to realize whom she was in love with.

Fox William Mulder, the Spookster himself.

Mulder came out of the kitchen holding two full glasses of brown liquid, ice cubes bouncing on top. Carefully, he stepped to the couch and handed her one of the glasses. He sat beside her sporting the biggest grin she had ever seen on his face. “I’d like to make a toast,” he began.

She quirked an eyebrow.

“To together forever.”

“And a white picket fence with two-point-five kids, a dog and a mini-van,” she added, eyes glowing radiant even though the lighting in the room was dim.

“Two-point-five?” he asked, showing white teeth. “I was thinking more along the lines of four. A big family, like yours was.”

Scully tapped his glass with hers. “Only if the adoption agency lets us.” And she took a sip.

Mulder’s face fell for a moment. She understood what his thoughts were. Her long, slender fingertips rested on the back of his hand. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. I don’t need to birth my own.” Her eyelids lowered, showing her sly gaze. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want them to call you Daddy.”

Mulder smiled. “Okay. Just as long as. . .”

She stopped him by kissing his lips. It was chaste, simple, similar to all the other kisses she had given him over the years. But the charge of electricity that passed from his lips to hers was unmistakable. Shaking from her fog of desire, she placed the glass on the coffee table and leaned foreword to claim a deeper kiss. His lips tasted like cool liquid spice. Each time his teeth nipped at her lips she could feel hot current travel down her spine to make home between her legs. Never in her fantasies had he kissed so hard, and it was that passion she felt that kept her going. But if he didn’t stop and take her soon, she would finish before they even started.

“Mulder. . .Mulder,” she whispered against his lips.

“Scully.”

“I haven’t had sex in six years.”

He chuckled, the noise vibrating against her chest. “Waiting for that special someone?”

She placed his glass of iced tea next to hers and crushed his body close. “I found him. No more waiting.” The husky tone was not lost to her ears. She wanted it, and she wanted it bad.

Mulder ran his fingertips along her arms. “I love you, Scully."

Those words sent a heatwave across her stomach. “Prove it, Mulder. I need hard evidence.”

He rolled on top of her. “I’ll show you hard evidence.” And his lips were on hers, sucking and nipping, tongues colliding. She pressed her knee gently between his legs, and relished the sound of his moan. Soon they would be like two teenagers, fumbling around with fingers and mouth, unable to stop tasting and touching each other. She shuddered with pure excitement at the thought of his lips moving all over her overheated skin. And she longed to taste every inch of him as well. ‘Ah,’ Scully thought as her new and permanent lover began flicking off the buttons of her blouse, ‘this is the life.’

FIN