A/N: Hi.

Fox Mulder stared at the ceiling, his back pressing into the dampness of the sheets—try as he might, he could not contain the grin that sprawled out across his face. His college girlfriend—not Phoebe, the other one—always told him that there were two kinds of smiles: ones that reached the eyes and ones that didn't.

This one, the one he was wearing in this moment, he knew, reached his eyes. In fact, he was damn near certain it reached all the way down to his toes—he was elated. There was simply no other word for it. Well, there were about a hundred other words, all of them fitting. And, always one to bend an ear, given the chance, he'd probably list you every single one.

And every single one of them began and ended with the woman by his side, her pale skin glowing despite the yellow tint of the streetlight outside. He resisted the urge to resist touching her, and instead, ran his hand languidly up and down her spine. He had spent so many years not touching her when he wanted to, that he was at once pleased and apprehensive now that he was allowed. She made a sound in the back of her throat—one he heard for the first time tonight. But, he knew, it would not be the last; he would spend his life chasing that sound.

They had finally taken the great cosmic leap—the one from partners to lovers—that is to say, sex. They had been lovers for years now—they'd just added sex tonight, and taken on the pesky task of actually admitting that they'd been lovers for years.

Mulder began drawing light circles on her back, and enjoyed her slight hum of contentment.

"You," he said, "are absolutely fantastic."

Chuckling, she turned her head to the side, facing him—she propped her head on her arm, "Back at'cha." She said, her voice heavy and thick, her eyes fluttering.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he let the gravity of the situation wash over him. He let it creep into every part of him—his voice was gravelly and raw when he spoke. "I've never been happier," He paused slightly, "Dana."

Dana Scully shut her eyes and bit back a laugh—the last thing she wanted to do was laugh at Mulder's happiness.

"You did not." She bit her lip, and stared at him.

Mulder was perplexed—his hand stopped their circles—his brows drawn together, "What?"

She groaned, "You did not just turn a potentially beautiful moment between us into something awkward and unnecessary."

Scully watched as a myriad of emotions flickered over his face. His emotion settled in hurt, "What do you mean?" He queried, his body frozen—of all the things in his life he didn't want to fuck up, this was number one. And, yet, here he was, not ten minutes after their first time together, and he appeared to be doing exactly that. His mind raced through the things he could say—the ways he should backtrack—the ways he could recant his happiness.

Scully narrowed her eyes—"Gee, I don't know, why would I possibly say such a thing… Fox?" She took her time with his given name, letting her lips wrap around every single letter—the end coming in a slight hiss.

Mulder's eyes widened as realization dawned upon him—"Yeah. That's definitely not gonna work." He chuckled, then, and his hands began drawing random patterns on the soft skin of her back.

"Mmm, precisely." She said, glad to have made her point. "What were you saying about happiness, though, Mulder?" She said his name with a smile on her lips.

He loved the way she said his name—"Ah, yes," He said, shifting slightly, his free arm coming to rest under his head. "Happiness. I have it. With you." His finger traced a heart on her back, "In fact—I've never been happier," his voice dropped, "Scully." He emphasized her name.

To both her pleasure and dismay, Scully felt her eyes begin to burn—chuckling, she ran her fingers through her messy hair, "That's much better." There was just something about the way Mulder said her surname, as though the weight of his world rested around it—"And for the record, if one exists…"

Mulder tapped her back, "One always exists."

She nodded—"I feel the exact same way."

"Glad to hear it." He said, leaning his head, kissing her gently on the lips. He pulled back from her, "I'm glad we got this name business out of the way, Scully." He murmured against her mouth.

"I am, too, Mulder." She said, kissing him—deeper this time. "Very glad." She sounded as though she had a secret to tell, her voice held a slight playful taunt.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, a smile playing on his face.

"Mmhm." She answered, kissing him again.

"And why is that?" He asked, in between kisses.

She hummed low in her throat, and Mulder felt it immediately in his groin—Her voice was a heady whisper when she spoke again, the lust evident—"So I'm certain what name you'll be moaning—"

His mind flashed back to their activities only moments ago, "Isn't that the truth?" Mulder laughed even as he felt his blood change direction—his voice was deep with desire as he narrowed his eyes—"Only ever yours, Scully." He ran his tongue along her lower lip-"Only ever yours."


A/N: This came about reading fanfic during which I would shake my fist at the sky and scream "THEY WOULD NEVER DO THAT!"- Sex changes things; but not all things. (see what I did there?)