A/N: This story is based off two writing prompts I stumbled across during an internet search. The two prompts are, "Start your story with this line: Her laugh broke the silence." and "Write a story with the following plot: Losing the winning lottery ticket." I found this very interesting and fun to write! I hope you will find it fun to read! :D

A Very Lucky Man
by: musingsofasolipsist

Her laugh broke the silence. He was serious. He really was. Dana Scully's manicured fingers grazed her forehead. With the slight shake of her head she spoke again, "I don't believe it."

"Better believe it, Scully, I just won twenty-five million dollars."

It took her a moment to validate the fact she hadn't been asleep, that this was indeed reality. Mulder had managed to win the lottery. Out of sheer impulse, he purchased a ten dollar scratch ticket with his usual bag of sunflower seeds during a trip to the convenient store. He'd never deemed himself very lucky prior.

She held the scratch ticket in her hand. Her analytical eyes must have scanned it close to twenty-five million time themselves. Since she'd met Mulder there were many things she couldn't come to believe in. In this case it wasn't the paranormal, but it certainly was some kind of phenomena.

She patted it down on the wooden desk in front of her. Her fingers tapped over it to make sure it was really there.

"What are you planning on doing? A lump sum?"

"No way, Scully, A lump sum is the government's way of being selfish."

"Mulder. Don't tell me you're going to withdraw twenty-five million dollars and expect to carry it around in your wallet."

"Of course not. I do have a bank account you know."

"Twenty-five million dollars," She repeated unbelievably. "I take it you're not going to quit your job." She stated. He didn't primarily work for money, and with such an emotional and personal attachment to his career, quitting seemed out of the question.

"No, actually, I was thinking about getting myself a nice Mercedes and go cruising down Death Valley. Either there or the Anza-Borrego Desert where I hear you can see some pretty astonishing Northern Lights."

The numerals flashed in her mind, bolded in bitmap red like a digital clock.

"How does it feel to be looking at a millionaire, Scully?"

"I wouldn't consider yourself to be the next Donald Trump just yet."

Mulder smirked. He leaned back in his chair and twirled a pencil. "Pretty darn close."

She folded her arms. "Well, you certainly are a lucky man."

The ringing of the telephone jarred her from her sleep. Scully reached over to her nightstand and pulled the corded telephone off of it's receiver. "Yeah?"

"Scully, Scully, I lost it." Mulder's voice was out of breath.

It took a few seconds to register, but once it did, Scully shot up. She sat with her back against the bed's headboard. "You're kidding..."

"I left it on my desk. I came back and it was gone. It's gone, Scully!"

"Jesus, Mulder... Whatever happened to responsibility?" She couldn't believe it. He could have been a millionaire by now.

Her eyes averted to the digital on her nightstand. It hadn't even been one in the morning yet. She sighed as she pushed down the covers. "I'll be right there." And with that, she hung up. She knew he was still at work, rummaging through his cluttered desk in hopes of locating his newest prized possession.

It didn't take long for her to change from her pajamas into casual work attire, not putting too much effort into it considering it was the early morning hours.

She entered the office to see papers being flung.

"Why don't you try cleaning?"

The entire office looked like the victim of a natural disaster.

"It's gone. It was right here, Scully!" He pointed down to the desk. "I was gone for not ten minutes. I came back and it was gone. Vanished."

Feeling empathy, Scully decided to assist Mulder in this fruitless search. After a half an hour of this quest, and needed cleaning, the ticket was still nowhere to be found.

He plopped down on his swivel chair and his eyes flickered to Scully. She looked exhausted. After all, he woke her up at quarter to one and obligated her to help him on a pointless search. But maybe it wasn't obligation. She wouldn't have come if she had not wanted to. She didn't advise him to hold off until morning. She came to help him. She always did.

That's when he smiled for the first time that morning. Millionaire or not, he had her. And that made him a lucky man.

A very lucky man.

FIN.