[As Good As It Gets]

 Mulder learns fulfilling his obligations has its benefits . . . a sequel to
                             "Girls' Night Out."

I swear I'm not making this up.

The day after Scully and I became lovers, somehow I ended up at the wedding
of people I'd never met, surrounded by people I didn't know, and the one
person I did know was in the back of the church with the bride doing
whatever it is that bridesmaids do. Giggling and joking about the wedding
night, I'm sure, though it's hard for me to picture Scully giggling. She's
not a giggler. She laughs whole-heartedly when she laughs at all, none of
this "dainty" garbage for her.

It was hard to believe that less than eight hours ago we had become lovers
for the first time. And the second. And the third. I'm not trying to brag,
I'm just saying the truth. I always knew Scully was passionate but I'd never
witnessed her passion so fully before, and being on the receiving end of her
passion is . . . beyond description.

And to think, it never would have happened if I hadn't had an attack of
jealousy. Lucky, lucky me, that Scully was more concerned than upset. When
she showed up at my place I sincerely thought I was in for a good scolding -
but instead she kissed me. Instead we made love. Instead she spent the night
in my bed, and we left only two hours before she had to be at the church.

Note to self: buy stuff for breakfast. This morning we had to make do with
leftover spaghetti, which was the only thing in my fridge besides beer and
Yoo-Hoo. "Carbos," Scully said to me, grinning wickedly, "are really good
for energy." So of course we ended up making love again. Ah . . . my girl.
My woman. My lady. However you want say it, it just feels good to call her
mine.

But it was still strange to be in a church full of Scully's friends and not
know anyone. When I came in an usher asked me if I were bride or groom, and
I said, "Uh . . . bridesmaid?" he sent me to the bride's side. So now I sat
in the third row and people kept asking me how I knew the family. I knew I'd
been here a long time - I drove over with Scully at two and the wedding
wasn't scheduled to start until four-thirty - but I was starting to feel
like a fake, here in my best suit, trying to make small talk, which has
never been one of my talents. I don't even know how to act at a formal deal
like this. My own wedding - god, it's weird to say that - was one of those
rushed registry-office jobs. I think I wore this same suit.

"Fox?"

At last, a familiar voice! I stood and turned, and gave Maggie Scully a kiss
on the cheek. Her smile was puzzled but pleased.

"What are you doing here, Fox? Do you know Anna and Joel?"

"I met Anna briefly last night. I'm, uh, Scully's date. Would you like to
sit with me?"

"I'd love to sit with you." There wasn't not much room left in the pew, but
Maggie is a tiny woman and we wedged in nicely. "Dana told me she wasn't
bringing a date."

"She just asked me last night." Actually it was about four a.m. this
morning, but somehow it didn't feel right to tell Scully's mother that.

"I'm glad. She hates going to these things alone. Her friends are always
trying to fix her up." Someone she knows came up, and there was much
exclaiming and hugging. And I couldn't help but wonder what happened to my
parents' friends as I grew up - did they abandon us completely or were they
pushed away? Or, even worse, were they all shadowy figures who retreated
once they had what they wanted?

Maggie put her hand on my shoulder. "You've not a big wedding fan, are you,"
she said gently. "You look pained."

"I haven't been to many. The last wedding I saw was 'Four Weddings and a
Funeral.'"

"I'll let you in on a secret. Dana hates weddings too."

"Oh?"

"I think it's the bridesmaid dresses. I'm so glad she's finally marrying off
a friend who has some fashion sense."

I hadn't seen Scully in the dress yet. She wore jeans and a t-shirt to the
church, to change with the other bridesmaids, her dress carefully swathed in
a drycleaner's bag. All I knew was that it's green velvet.

Maggie glanced at her watch. "Almost showtime. Isn't the music lovely?"

"Uh-huh." They had a string quartet playing Classics Lite in the vestibule.
It was pretty, but not terribly original. We'll have a pianist playing a
meaningful love song at our wedding, probably 'Somebody'--

Whoa. Where'd *that* come from?

I glanced at Maggie, but her face was tranquil and expectant. That uncanny
Scully intuition wasn't in gear, apparently.

I ran my hand through my hair. Our wedding. I hadn't even thought ahead to
Monday, let alone the rest of my life.

But the thought of marrying Scully . . . it wasn't terrifying. It's not
terrifying. Not like marrying Diana, because we thought she was --

The string quartet fell silent, and the groom, the best man and the pastor
took their places at the head of the aisle. Everyone turned expectantly, and
when the bridal march began we rose.

It was the usual rigamarole. The mother of the bride, looking exhausted and
relieved, on the arm of an usher; a tiny ringbearer and a doll-like flower
girl, awed into good behavior by the number of people and their own finery;
a teenage bridesmaid and usher, awkward and solemn; one of the women who was
with Scully last night and the usher who thinks I'm an idiot; and finally,
on the arm of an usher who looks like he wants to devour her, was Scully. I
heard a theory once that bridesmaids' dresses are so hideous so that no
one's attention is drawn away from the bride, but if that's true, in
Scully's case at least, it failed.

She was beautiful. Her hair was pulled up at the back of her head and
spilled in soft curls around her face. Her skin had that post-coital glow,
her eyes were bright and her face was animated and smiling. She was right
last night: everyone did know she felt good.

And the dress--the dress was amazing. The deep color accentuated the glow of
her skin. The neckline emphasized the fullness of her breasts, that not five
hours before I had in my hands and in my mouth. The roses in her bouquet
were not as soft as her skin, and didn't smell as sweet. Even in her
high-heeled shoes she didn't reach the usher's shoulder, but no matter:
everyone could see, couldn't they, that she's lithe and strong, and her
heart is even stronger.

This was embarrassing. There I was at a formal wedding with my lover's
mother right next to me and I had a hardon like the Washington Monument.
Good thing those were dress pants.

The bridal march ended when the bridesmaids and ushers were all in place.
The maid of honor - Jamie, I think her name was - appeared at the door, and
then, over the speaker system, there was piano. Jazz piano.

A woman's voice sang, "'My baby don't care for shows, my baby don't care for
clothes, he cares for me . . .'" Jamie walked down the aisle, grinning, and
finally, there was the bride, Anna, and her father. He had tears in his eyes
but he smiled too, and the bride was beaming.

At the front of the aisle Anna took her place next to her groom. Her father
lifted her veil and kissed her, lowered the veil and sat down next to his
wife.

I barely paid attention to the ceremony-I only had eyes for Scully. I did
notice, though, the shyly pleased smiles on the new couple, their whispers
and blushes, the tender way they spoke their vows. I noticed, too, that
Scully had to wipe her eyes more than once.

Finally the pastor said, "I'm pleased to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Joel
Simpson!" and the church erupted in applause. The couple strode up the
aisle, looking bashful and proud, followed by the bridal party, and then the
congregation moved out as well.

Maggie Scully smiled at me. She looked like she wanted to say something, but
instead just patted my cheek and stood up to go.

"Are you staying for the reception?" I asked quickly.

"No, I don't think so. Will you be taking Dana home?"

"Yeah, we came together." I flushed at my unintentional double entendre, and
only hoped Maggie didn't notice.

"I'm not planning to stay long, at any rate. Frankly," she leaned down and
said softly, "there are too many people here who knew my husband, and if I
get anymore sympathy I may break down."

"I understand." Scully was dreading that too, this morning. I squeezed the
hand that still rested on my shoulder, and she squeezed back and left the
pew.

Alone in the church except for the clerk, I leaned over to rest my elbows on
my knees. I felt strange, light-headed, almost. Marrying Scully. I'd thought
about it, of course, in the same hypothetical way I thought about making
love to her until last night. But our being lovers was now real . . . just
about every other fantasy, every other wise I've had, can be real as well.

When Diana left me, I didn't notice for two days. We were that distant, that
disconnected. But we'd never been friends the way Scully and I are. We'd
never gone through hell for each other. The way I love Scully is so
different from the way I've loved anybody-there's no manipulation, no fear,
no wondering if this is as good as it gets. Because nothing could be better
than what I have with Scully, nothing could be more true.

But on the other hand, could I really ask her to share the rest of her life
with me? She's all I have and if I lose her - I don't want to think about
losing her. I have so little to offer her. I have only myself, and who can
say, in the long run, if that will be enough.

"Are you all right, son?"

I looked up to see the pastor sitting down in the pew in front of m, his arm
over the back so he could face me. I sighed and told him, "I'm okay. The
wedding has made me think, that's all."

"Considering it for yourself, are you?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah . . . Do you ever advise couples *not* to marry?"

"Yes," he said with a sigh, "and it's one of the things I dread. There are
times when it's obvious, you know, when there's abuse going on -"

"But what about when it's not a question of . . . I don't know how to
explain it. When it's a question of safety."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I'm afraid if I marry the woman I love it will endanger her because of the
enemies we have."

His frowns deepened and he said quietly, "That certainly is a serious
concern."

"I'm not crazy, if that's what you're thinking."

"I wasn't thinking that, son. I wonder, though, if your fears for her are an
excuse not to act on what you truly desire."

"I look at it this way: it's my happiness or her life. Her life, my
happiness." I weighed my hands like a banker's scale. "I don't know, her
life is worth a lot more."

"What about her happiness, and your life?"

I stared at him, despondent. Didn't he see that her life *is* my life? Her
happiness *is* my happiness?

"I don't pretend to know or understand your situation," the pastor said.
"But I do know this for certain. It is better to be together than alone."

I had no answer for that, and in a moment he left to join the reception.

I know I'd rather be with Scully than without her. In the end, despite
everything, I'd rather be with her.

I stood up as well, and went to the church's reception hall. They were
taking pictures of the families and the bridal party. Scully wasn't
listening to the photographer - instead she was scanning the crowd,
searching for . . . me?

She must have been, because when our eyes met a look came over her face, one
I never expected to see, much less bring. Relief and happiness and love. She
smiled one of her electric angel smiles and turned her attention to the
photographer.

In another few minutes they were done, and Scully hugged her friends and
made her way through the people, to where I waited with a glass of
champagne.

"Hey, you," she said, sitting down beside me.

"Hey. How are you holding up?" I offered her my glass, and she took it and
had a sip.

"I'll survive. How are you?" She gave me back the glass and I drank the
rest.

"I kept expecting someone to stomp on a glass and I wanted to shout 'mazel
tov,' but I behaved myself very well."

"Yes, you did. Have I told you that you look fantastic?" she said with a
secret smile.

"You outshine the bride," I replied with an answering smile.

"Thank you, kind sir."

"Your escort looked like he wanted to gobble you up."

She laughed. Somehow her hand had worked its way to the inside of my leg,
and she slowly stroked my thigh. "Actually, what he liked is the dress.
Cousin Doug lives most of the time as cousin Deborah, when he's not
imitating Liza."

"That guy? Are you serious?"

"Uh-huh." She leaned into me so that our foreheads touched. "I'm remarkably
energetic for the night I had."

"So am I."

"Know what?"

"What." Almost unconsciously we rocked against each other.

"I want to be bad."

"Why, Agent Scully," I said softly. I wanted to be bad too.

"I know where we can go. The dressing room. There's nobody there, the door
locks, and there's a couch."

"Oo, the magic words." I put the champagne glass aside and Scully stood,
holding my hand. I stood up as well and followed her out of the reception
hall towards the back of the church.

She still held her bouquet. "Why don't you put that down?" I said, reaching
for it.

"Oh, no, I've got plans for these." She hid the bouquet behind her back, and
when I made a grab for it she pulled away from me, laughing, and backed
right into an elderly woman who squealed with surprise. Scully whirled and
exclaimed, "Aunt Katie! Hello!"

"Dana, sweetheart. Wasn't it a lovely wedding? You're looking beautiful.
Who's this with you?"

"This is - uh, my partner, Fox Mulder. My aunt Kate Scully."

I shook hands with her aunt and tried to stand behind Scully so that my
excitement wasn't too obvious.

"Where have you been hiding him?" Kate asked Scully, holding onto my hand.

"I keep him in a cardboard box under my bed for emergencies," Scully said. I
smothered a chortle.

Kate laughed outright and squeezed my hand before letting it go. "Do you
know where you're sitting for dinner?" she asked Scully.

"Um, the head table, I think." She slipped an arm around my waist,
discretely under my suit jacket so she could slip her hand into my
waistband.

"Did your mother come, dear?"

"I saw her earlier," I said. "She's around here somewhere." I squeaked a
little in the middle of 'somewhere,' because Scully slipped a finger into
the very top of the crack of my ass. Kate looked at me with mild surprise.

"Excuse me, Aunt Katie," Scully said, "but he's got a rare adrenal condition
that requires him to be horizontal three times a day, and it's therapy
time."

"Oh, of course," Kate said with an understanding smile. "Have a good time."
She walked away, shaking her head.

"Adrenal condition?" I said as we walked quickly out of the hall.

"I love my aunt Katie dearly but she can be long-winded sometimes. Come on."
Her hand left my butt and we all but ran to the dressing room.

There was a feral look in Scully's eyes as she closed the door and locked
it. She grinned at me and licked her lips, and said softly, "Take off your
clothes."

I found I coulnd't speak, I could only obey her. Off came the tie, the
shoes, the socks and the jacket. She watched me, her lips wet from constant
visits of her tongue, her eyes hungry. I almost wanted to make a game of
this, to tease her, but all I wanted, really, is to be naked, to be inside
her, to make her come.

Finally all my clothes were off and I waited for her next move. She smiled
again and plucked a rose from her bouquet, walked to me and ran the plump,
soft head of the flower lightly over my chest.

"You're a beautiful man, Mulder," she said softly, and I closed my eyes as
the rose petals stroked over my nipples. Down it went over my stomach and
hips as she whispered, "I love your mouth. I love your hands. I love your
arms and your feet. And I especially love your cock." I gasped as the rose
slowly, slowly drew down the length of my cock, and I clenched my hands and
my teeth. "Though I shouldn't worry about that, should I. I mean, it's part
of you. It gives me pleasure. Holding your hand or sucking your cock, it's
the same. It's me loving you, and you loving me, and that's beautiful. Very,
very beautiful." The rose left my skin and she put her arms around me,
pressing her exquisite body against me. The velvet was as soft as the rose
petals. We kissed deeply, and I reached around to her back. I slipped the
buttons from their loops and carefully lowered the dress from her arms. She
lifted her arms from my neck so I could strip her to her waist.

Beneath the dress she wore a white lace bra that was anything but demure. I
rubbed my face against her breasts and kissed them, and I unhooked her bra
carefully and took it off. Her breasts were perfect, as creamy as the rose
she still held, their tips the same pink as her lips.

I lowered her dress down her body and she steps out of it and lays it over
the back of a chair. She wore just lace panties and white thigh-high
stockings, with a band of lace to hold them up around her slim legs. "Could
you leave these on?" I said, still kneeling on the floor.

"They stain," she said regretfully. With a sigh I eased them off, and rose
up on my knees to kiss her stomach.

Softly she moaned my name and knelt down, holding my face in her hands and
kissing me fiercely. I slid my hands down her thighs and lifted her up to
lie her down on the floor. I kissed her thighs, her stomach, her breasts,
her neck, her face. She sucked on my lips and ran her hands through my hair
as I kissed my way back down, and I hooked her knees over my shoulders. When
she realized my intention her breathing sped up to whimpering pants, and her
hands tangled into my hair as she guided my head to where she wants it.

I bury my nose in the soft curls and breathe in the spicy scent of her
arousal. "Mulder," she moaned, grinding her hips against my face. "Lick me,
please lick me--oh, god!" she shouted when I did lick her, a long, slow
caress with the entire length of my tongue over her clit. She's loud, my
girl, loud and vocal and not afraid to ask for what she wants and I love it,
I love following the sounds she makes to show me what I'm doing right.

So I licked her slowly, now teasing her clit with the tip of my tongue, now
ignoring it entirely and concentrating on the opening to her body or the
folds of her lower lips, now sucking on her greedily. Her body rocked and
heaved beneath my mouth, and she pulled on my hair frantically.

I lifted my mouth and she mewled in protest. "I want to have some fun too,"
I whispered, kissing her, and she smiled and wrapped her legs around me.

"I guess that depends on how you define fun," she said, cupping my balls in
her tiny hand. I moaned against her neck and pulled her legs higher up so
they're just under my arms.

"Can I?" I moaned, biting her neck. "Are you ready? Can I fuck you now?"

She laughed throatily and rolled us so that I was on my back and she knelt
over me. "You don't need to ask," she said, and took me inside her.

Oh, god. Oh, god, oh god. It was so hard to keep my eyes open but I couldn't
stop watching her. We've begun to find our mutual rhythm and we fell into it
easily, much like everything else we've done together. She ran her hands
over my body as she rode me, she kissed my chest and shoulders, she watched
me as intently as I watched her.

I sat up and she moaned at the new angle. I had to move her with my hands,
her legs aren't long enough for this position. I moved up onto my knees and
her legs wrapped around my waist again, and her arms went around my neck. I
leaned her back against the couch and thrust within her deep. She groaned in
my ear with each thrust and her nails scraped over my back but I barely
noticed the sting. When I make love to Scully everything disappears but her.
Even I disappear.

"Mulder, I'm--oh, god--" Her words broke off into a high-pitched cry and her
head whipped back and forth though she struggled to keep watching me. Her
back arched and her hips writhed, and I pressed my face against her neck and
groaned into her ear as I came. I don't know if her orgasms are multiple or
just long, but it's always a beautiful thing to witness.

We both sagged to the floor, panting and spent. Scully ran a lazy hand over
my face. She traced my ears and stroked the back of my neck, she cradled my
forehead and kissed my temple.

I moved carefully to prop myself up on my elbow and gently stroked her
stomach. "You okay?"

"I'm great." She smiled, her eyes sleepy.

"Should we go back to the party?"

"Mm . . . eventually."

I was in no hurry to go back to other people either. I wished we were back
in my apartment, someplace private where we can make love as long and as
often as we want to. I envy Anna and Joel their honeymoon--they have time to
adjust, while we have to keep our new status a secret from even the people
we love.

"You know what?" I whispered, kissing her face.

"Mm."

"I want to steal you away from all this. I want to squirrel away with you on
a mountaintop or out on an island somewhere. I just want to be alone with
you."

Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. A sadness came into her eyes that I
knew was going to take a lot of comfort to completely drive away. She pulled
me down to her and kissed me hard, and whispered fiercely, "I love you. You
understand that, don't you? You know how much I love you?"

"I know. I understand. I love you so much. I just wish . . ." I didn't know
how to explain it to her, and so I just kissed her.

"We'll be all right, Mulder. We will." We kissed each other gently for some
time, and then just held each other, reluctant to re-enter the real world.

"I'm so glad you came today," Scully said softly. "The only reason I agreed
to be a bridesmaid was because I've known Anna for years. Our mothers have
known each other since they both were newlyweds. But I hate . . . maybe hate
is too strong a word. I . . . don't like that all the people know me but
don't know me, does that make any sense? They've watched me grow up but they
haven't an idea of even what I do for a living."

"I don't even talk to my relatives. I think they've forgotten me."

She kissed my forehead. "I'm so glad I have you."

"It's gonna be something to get rid of me."

"I think I'll keep you around awhile. You're a good lay."

I smacked her butt and she laughed, rolling away from me. "Time to get
dressed, Mulder."

"Do you want to sneak out and find the nearest hotel?"

"Yes . . . but I should stay until the reception's over. It's part of the
whole bridesmaid thing." She already started putting on her clothes, her
panties and bra and those delicious white stockings. I sighed and started
dressing as well. In a few minutes we looked perfectly respectable, that
we've only been for a walk outside in the cool autumn air. She even managed
to put up her hair as it was before, with just a few passes with a comb and
a twist of the clip at the back of her neck.

As she did this I stood behind her and put my hands on her shoulders,
watching her in the mirror. She smiled at me questioningly. "You don't have
to stay longer than you want to."

"Then how will you get home?" I put my arms around her waist and hugged her
tightly. "I said I'd stay with you. I'm staying. Especially," I added with a
grin, "if we can find a little B&B with a big double bed and a weekend rate
. . ."

"You find the B&B and I'll stay as long as you like." She turned in my arms
and kissed me. Most of her makeup was sweated or rubbed off, but she was
radiant, she was so beautiful she took my breath away.

"You're wonderful, you know," I whispered.

"Oh, stop." But she was smiling.

"I mean it. In the literal sense. You fill me with wonder." I turned her
back around and looked at our reflection on the mirror. "Look at you," I
whispered. "Look at the roses in your cheeks. Look at the sparkle in your
eyes. Look at how you can't stop smiling. Knowing I put them there - knowing
it's because of me - that fills me with wonder."

"Well, in that case," Scully said softly, reaching back to put her arms
around my neck, "you're pretty wonderful too."

"No, I'm not-"

"Yes, you are. Look at you." She directed my head so I had to look at us
instead of just at her. "Fox Mulder, smiling," she said. "Smiling and
relaxed, and not looking over his shoulder. Not waiting for the next
disaster to strike. Happy to be where he is."

"With you."

"And that's why I'm happy, Mulder. Because I make you happy. And if that
isn't wonderful I don't know what is."

I leaned over her shoulder to kiss her, and we held each other for several
minutes before reluctantly going back to the party.

*^*^*^

Dinner was good, the food wasn't terribly weird and for dessert there was
this fluffy chocolate mousse concoction that I fed to Scully spoonful by
spoonful. After dinner were the toasts and speeches, and none of them were
too bawdy or rambling. The newlyweds barely paid attention to anyone else,
anyway, lost instead in a world of their own creation. I suspect that Scully
and I had much the same look as they did, that of new lovers still in awe of
their love.

Throughout dinner, though, there was the band. They played soft instrumental
stuff while we ate, switching to pop songs between courses so people could
dance. It wasn't bad. I only wished they'd play a song I liked. Really
liked.

I leaned over to whisper to Scully any number of obscene suggestions, when
we both paused, recognizing the opening chords the pianist was playing. And
when the singer stepped up to the microphone and began to sing, was looked
at each other and smiled, and in unison stood and went onto the dance floor.

                      "'I want somebody to share, share the rest of my life,

                       Know my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details,

                        Someone who'll stand by my side and give me support,

                                 And in return she'll get my support . . .'"

Scully pressed her cheek against my chest and I held her tight around her
waist. Anna caught my eye and gave me a big grin, and I knew the song was by
her request, especially for us. I smiled back in thanks and hugged Scully
tighter.

                                "'She will listen to me when I want to speak

                             About the world we live in and life in general,

               And though my views may be wrong, they may even be perverted,

                         She will hear me out, and won't easily be converted

                       To my way of thinking, in fact she'll often disagree,

                      But at the end of it all, she will understand me. . ."

Scully looked up at me, and there were tears in her eyes. I started to ask
her what was wrong but she pulled me down for a kiss, which I gladly gave.

                              "I want somebody who cares for me passionately

                                   With every thought and with every breath,

                     Someone who'll help me see things in a different light,

                                 All the things I detest I will almost like,

                                I don't want to be tied to anyone's strings,

                        I've carefully tried to steer clear of those things,

                                         But when I'm asleep I want somebody

               Who will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderly . . ."

We ended our kiss and danced on, our foreheads touching, our arms around
each other. I wanted to tell her everything in my heart, my fears and my
hopes, but she already knew them. She shared them. It astounded me, how much
she is like the dream girl in the song, how she makes me look at the world
in ways I never considered, how much I've fought to not become attached to
anyone and how fully I became attached to her, how she has changed me and
only for the better. How, last night, I woke up to feel her kissing my face,
and she gathered me into her arms closely and whispered that she loved me.

The band finished playing "Somebody" and went into a really odd cover of
some teenybopper song, and Scully and I stopped dancing and held onto each
other, reluctant to move because it might end the magic. Finally Scully
whispered, "Maybe it's time to go," and I licked my lips and nodded.

We started to leave the floor when I realized what I wanted to do, and I
said, "Wait, I want to talk to the band first. I'll just a minute."

"Okay," Scully said, obviously puzzled, and went back to our table to wait
for me.

I went to the bandstand and waited for the singer to announce their break.
"Can I ask a favor?" I said, and when I explained it e grinned and said he'd
be happy to help. I got up onto the stage and caught sight of Scully's face,
which had her "you'd better not be doing what I think you're doing"
expression.

"We've had a special request," the singer said. "This gentleman here wants
to hear an oldie, but since I don't know the words he's graciously agreed to
sing." He gave me the microphone and sat down at the piano, and nodded to
show me he was ready.

I nodded back, my mouth suddenly dry, and I wondered if this was actually a
very stupid idea. Too late now. The singer played a brief intro and I took a
deep breath. Five years of singing lessons when I was a kid was a very long
time ago.

But I've always loved this song.

                "'There were birds in the sky, but I never saw them winging,

                            No, I never saw them at all, till there was you.

                 There were bells in the air but I never heard them ringing,

                          No, I never heard them at all, till there was you.

                                        Then was music, and wonderful roses,

                  They'd tell me in sweet fragrant meadows of dawn, and dew.

                     There was love all around but I never heard it singing,

                          No, I never heard it at all, till there was you.'"

Videotape available for blackmailing purposes.

But Scully, my sweet, beautiful Scully, was smiling and crying, and her
hands were clasped together in front of her mouth. People clapped when the
song ended, so I guess it wasn't too terrible. But I wasn't done yet.

I stepped off the little stage and said, "I have a question. I have this
best friend. I love her with everything that is in me. Do you think if I
asked her, right now, to marry me, she'd say yes?"

General laughter, and a few people shouted, "I would!" Scully's eyes grew
wide, and I suddenly noticed that her mother was still there and looked just
as shocked. I grinned and said, "I guess there's only one way to find out,"
went to Scully and knelt down.

She was crying in earnest now, and smiling so joyfully she could light the
Eastern Seaboard. "I love you," I said softly, taking her hand. She clasped
mine tightly. "Marry me."

"Yes."

"It's not going to be perfect - did you say yes?"

"Yes." She nodded, biting her lip. "Yes. Always. Forever. Yes."

The hall erupted in applause for the second time that day, and I rose up
onto my knees and hugged her tight.

As good as it gets can be pretty damn good sometimes.

                                    End.

                                  *^*^*^*^

 "My baby just cares for me" belongs to Nina Simone. "Somebody" belongs to,
  of course, Depeche Mode. "Till there was you" is from "The Music Man" by
             Meredith Wilson. All were used without permission.