And We All Live Happily Ever After
Fandom: The X-Files
Summary: Mulder loves Scully. Scully loves Mulder. So we all live happily ever
Disclaimer: Something isn’t right when you don’t know who owns these people by
now. 1013. CC. FOX Network.
Once upon a time–
Actually, it was more like two months ago, Mulder.
That’s right. Thank you so much for reminding me. Is it some sort of
anniversary I have to remember?
You don’t have to remember *any* anniversary. By the way, it was two days
ago, and I accept Visa, MasterCard or Godiva Chocolatier. So get on with
the ever-so-touching story, dear.
Dear? That makes me feel ancient. Who are you, my mother?
Do you want me to be your mother, honeylovin’? I could baby you. Oh, wait,
I already do that. I didn’t realize being your lover meant I also became
your unpaid maid, cook, and personal shopper.
You don’t have to be my personal shopper. I liked the way my ties looked
before, pookie bear. Anyway, I was going to tell the story, but you keep
interrupting, love of my life, Dana of my heart.
I’m quiet. Not a word from my mouth.
Fine. Once upon a time, which was two months and two days ago–
Don’t be snippy.
So, two months and two days ago– well, the story starts before that. I mean,
it sort of starts the day we met, doesn’t it, Scully? I mean, it was a little
love at first sight.
Don’t confuse lust with love, dearest. And don’t even try to say there was
You either, sweetie pumpkin.
Are we going to fight, Mulder? You sound awfully irritated. I’m just saying
we weren’t on the best of terms when we introduced ourselves. I mean, you
were cute, but I was sent to spy on you. I mean, I liked you right away, but
you were also a spooky schmuck.
Don’t you make us sound romantic. You were cute, too, but your hair!
What was wrong with my hair?
I don’t know, you changed it pretty damn fast after we met. I have nothing
else to say, okay?
But you’re telling the touching story of how we fell in love, sweetest. I
wanna hear your version of this. It should be priceless.
My version? What, you have a different version? I mean, this is my version.
We work together five years. We become closer than two people have any right
to without sharing a bed. So one night, I come over and we talk for a long
long time, and we kiss. And then we decide to hell with that platonic crap.
Then there’s all that happily ever after, stuff.
You are the most unromantic, most absolutely insane– You come over we talk
we kiss we have sex finis? You’re lucky I don’t shoo–
I’m lucky you don’t shoot me again. Get another line, honey lover.
What is this with all the new endearments? What, Mulder, you don’t like my
I love your name. I love every last bit of your name, Dana Katherine
Sculleeeeeee. It fits you so perfectly. Your red hair. Your big blue
eyes. Your porcelain doll complexion. Your slim, curvy figure. It makes me
so happy I believe in the happily ever after. Until you make me miss the
Knicks game so we can go to dinner with your mother.
Mul– OOOH! You’re going to get it!
Slow and sweet or fast and furious, Scully?
Mulder, if you don’t stop it, I’m going to slap you until my hand hurts,
then I’m going to slap you for making my hand hurt! Are you in love with
me or not?
Scully? Are you serious?
I don’t want to waste my heart, mind, soul, and body on someone who doesn’t
love me. I love you, you big stupid goof. You do know that, right? I mean
it. You have all those awful, ungodly habits, you leave the toilet seat up,
you leave empty milk cartons in the fridge–
You put your cold feet on me– you leave the bathroom covered in hair stuff.
You use my razor.
You make that little sound sometimes– you know that sound. It’s not quite
a groan, or a moan, or a grumble. It’s just this sound, and it makes my hair
stand on end. Any woman deserves sainthood for dealing with that sound,
Have you been replaced by Elaine Benes all of a sudden? That sound? I
mean, I could go on about this thing _you_ do in bed–
Don’t even go there, Mulder. You’re funny sometimes, but you are definitely
no Seinfeld in that respect.
So, are you really serious? You know I’m crazy about you. You wreck me,
jeez, I fall to pieces every time you get a paper cut, Scully. I love you.
I adore you. I worship you.
Mulder– God. Well. You know I love you. You know that, right? I’m
absolutely out of my mind in love with you.
That– well. Damn. You’ve totally screwed up my storytelling, Scully, but
who cares? We know how we fell in love. Who the hell cares if anyone else
Not me. Why don’t we make dinner?
Well, if not dinner, then how about whipped cream, strawberries, and
Scully, you know what I like.
If that isn’t the understatement of the century, Mulder–
You think we’re gonna live happily ever after?
What the hell does that mean, Mulder? I’m just trying to enjoy an evening
with my lover involving whipped cream and he can’t get past once upon
Oh. Oh My.
Oh. Oh. My. God.
….and the prince and the princess fell in love and got married and lived
happily ever after. Until the next morning. Then life started up again and
ever after got postponed until at least after next Christmas.
You always have to have the last word, don’t you, Mulder?
I do not!
There you go again!
Can this just be over now?
All right, but I get to say it. Okay?
Say it. I’m not stopping you.
The End. And we mean it.
Very nice, Scully darlin.
(And this continues, like it should, world without end, amen.)