AGENT, MALE

By Char Chaffin

MSR/UST, PG-13, third person POV, Scully POV

Written for Fandomonium's Voyeur Challenge

Spoilers:  Does previous fanfic count???  <g>

Disclaimer:  Clones on Loan

NOTE:  This has actually become an addition, a 'pre-quel' of sorts,

to my series "Harriet and Johnson."  You might want to read that

first to better understand this story.  Here is the link:

http://char.chaffin.com/series_page.htm

Just page down to "Harriet and Johnson."  

Thanks to:  Becky Carpenter and Toniann, for agent ideas and preview

duties!

Summary:  'I thought I'd seen some good-looking men in my time...'

"Agent, Male"

Oh, my... 

I couldn't stop staring.

I thought I'd seen some good-looking men in my time; after all, I

did live in Hollywood for a few years... but I'd never seen anyone

like him, never.  And on my second day at work, too.  I was just

turning a corner, and there he was. 

Of course part of me wanted to simply scream it aloud, "THERE HE

IS!"  Another part of me wanted to drop to my knees and whisper

reverently, "Thank you, God."  Yet another part wanted to walk up to

him, jump into his arms and kiss him senseless.  And all after one

initial glimpse of him.

Tall.  Very tall.  Broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted.  Dark hair, my

favorite hair color on a man.  Eyes, oh Lord... what those eyes did

to me when he finally looked up from the file he was holding.  And he

wasn't even looking at me.  But his glance fell in my general

direction, enough that I could see the color of those fabulous eyes.

I'm a real sucker for hazel eyes.

He was dressed in Armani.  God, what an exquisitely-tailored suit

will do for a man should be illegal in some states, and come to think

of it, probably was.  I wished I was close enough to smell him.  I

wished I was close enough to touch him...

Okay, I had to get a grip.  It was only my second day on the job.  I

wanted to make the very best impression I could and here I was,

drooling over one of the agents, someone in a more important position

within the Hoover than I.  For what had already gone through my mind

as I stared at him, he could have brought sexual harassment charges

against me and nobody would have questioned his right to do just

that.  These ARE quite modern times, after all, and men can find

themselves at the end of unwelcome sexual attention as easily as

women.  I know this.  Did that stop me from standing in the corridor,

frozen in place, just about eating this man alive with my eyes?

Oh, hell no.

What DID stop me was the worry that sooner or later he'd feel

someone gawking at him and he'd look my way, see how I was

practically drooling over him, and then press charges.  It was that

thought, and only that, which got my legs moving and my brain

functioning with some sort of coherence, and I walked quickly in the

opposite direction before I could make an utter and complete fool of

myself on only my second day of work.

Oh, but at least I knew he was an agent; I could tell by his badge.

I hadn't been close enough to see the name on it, but he worked in

this building; he wasn't just a visitor.  I'd see him again.

Please, God.

******************

~~  Later that day  ~~

For about the tenth time, she made herself stop staring in Mulder's

direction.  Nose buried in a folder, leaning up against the desk,

crunching on yet another seed, he was hard to resist staring at.  But

she was trying, she really was...

Never had there been a more unaware man than Mulder.  It was most

definitely part of his charm, his appeal.  If he'd been arrogant,

vain, conceited, no doubt he'd lose a great deal of his

attractiveness, at least to her and probably other women in the

building.  But that wasn't him, not a bit.  In the years they'd been

partnered, Mulder had never exhibited a bit of narcissistic "Look at

me" behavior.  And thank goodness for it, because if she'd had to

deal with that day upon day she would have transferred out, PDQ.

He hadn't a clue of his own visual worth, not to mention his inner

value.  Scully sat across from him in the office they shared and made

herself concentrate on her laptop screen.  Forced her attention away

from the singular beauty of Fox Mulder in slate gray Armani, cream

shirt; tasteful, muted (for a change) tie.  Hair just the smallest

bit disheveled, seed held between those long fingers, bringing it up

to that full, lush mouth...

God!

What was the matter with her?  This was her partner, her best

friend!  This was someone she trusted above anyone else, including

some members of her own family.  Part of the basis of that trust had

to do with the utter reliability of Mulder to see her as his equal,

both personally and professionally.  It meant the world to her.  It

was grossly unfair of her to be looking at him as nothing more than a

pretty face, regardless of how she valued the mind and the heart

behind that face.  If he'd ever done the same thing to her, Scully

would be beyond pissed, and she knew it.

And yet... and yet...

Lord, he was a beautiful man.  There could be no better word.

Scully gave up trying to pretend she had a conscience, and simply

gazed her fill.  To his credit, Mulder didn't even notice; he was too

absorbed in setting up another stack of evidence slides.  Turned to

the side a bit, offering her an unfettered view of his profile, one

comma-like chunk of hair slipping over his forehead, Mulder was a

visual delight and Scully was tired of depriving herself.  She'd say

an extra "Hail Mary' at confession on Saturday.

The quiet in their office was broken by an occasional 'whirr' from

the projector. Scully's fingers tapped against the keyboard of her

laptop as she pretended to type but continued to scope out her

unsuspecting partner. Mulder exhibited his usual foot-bobbing,

knuckle-cracking and soft whistling that indicated boredom and

impatience with what he was viewing.  He raked his hands through his

hair, and Scully imagined it was her fingers combing through the

thick dark silk, holding him still so that she could swoop in, and

catch that full bottom lip between her teeth, and bite, softly, then

maybe a little rougher.  She'd bet money just one nip would make him

groan.  Just to hear him groan in passion, that raspy honey-silk

voice of his, groaning for her...

Stop. it. Dana.  Just STOP, already! 

Yelling at herself seemed to have no effect at all.  Scully jumped

to her feet abruptly, stammered out a strangled, "Ladies room, be

right back, Mulder," and she fought to walk to the door without

running as if demons dogged her heels. Once it closed behind her, she

released her pent-up breath and slowly headed toward the elevator,

deciding some cold water in the face might not be a bad idea.

She had it under control.  She really did.  As she entered the

ladies' room one floor up, Dana Scully told herself more than one

lie.  She'd be saying several "Hail Marys' come Saturday.

Better believe it.

*************************

~~  One week later  ~~

I could not believe my luck.  Out wandering around the Capital Mall

during lunch, down by the reflecting pool; who should I see but that

gorgeous Agent Mulder, sitting on a bench and staring out over the

shimmering water.  One whole week had gone by and this was the first

glimpse I'd had of him since day two of my new assignment at

Headquarters. 

Luckily for me I was wearing a new suit that was particularly

flattering.  Lucky that I'd just gotten my hair cut the other day and

my stylist had done a very fine job.  I was looking my best; today

was the right day to approach Fox Mulder - could a first name BE any

more fitting for a person, I ask you? - and strike up a conversation,

get to know him.  Let him get to know me.  This was my chance. 

Oh, he looked wonderful.  Just wonderful...  I was standing and

staring again; I couldn't help it.

Today it was a dark navy suit, with a blue shirt.  His hair was

tousled from the breeze.  He wore sexy Ray-Bans that gave him a movie-

star polish.  Leaning back on the bench, arms relaxed at his sides,

what looked like a bag lunch balanced on one knee. Long, long legs

stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle.  Shiny wing-

tips on his feet.

His feet...  My, my.  Agent Mulder had quite large feet.  I'm only

human, so of course I had to wonder if those large, elegant looking

feet could equate to any other vital areas of his body...

I told myself I'd find out, sooner or later.  This man was meant to

be mine.  I knew it; only a matter of time before I made sure he knew

it, too.

So I stood there daydreaming, several yards away, readying myself to

approach him, thinking of a clever opening line, peering down at

myself to assure I still looked my best... and when I glanced up

again, someone was sitting next to him.  Someone petite and pretty,

someone I'd seen around the Hoover a couple of times already.

His partner.  I couldn't recall her name but that was who'd taken

the seat next to him.  And as I stood there only yards away, I may as

well have been on the other side of the moon for all the notice they

took of me.  They seemed to be that wrapped up in each other. 

They chatted in low murmurs but their body language spoke louder

than any of their words.  I saw the way Agent Mulder leaned into her

personal space; at this angle I could also see the way his face lit

up in her presence, was so much more animated.  When he reached out

and caught one of her hands, she looked down at the clasp of their

fingers for a moment and when she raised her eyes again I swore even

from a distance I could see a blush on her face.

And I knew, right then, right there... this was not a free man.

This was most definitely a taken man.  Maybe he didn't even know it

yet.  Maybe they both thought they were still only partners and at

the most, friends.  But I could see it.  Sometimes a third party,

outside the perimeter, can see better than anyone else. 

I may be a lot of things but a poacher I am not.  There was no

question of my backing off, walking away. Of course that was exactly

what I'd do.  What I did, three full minutes after watching their

closeness, their friendship, their budding romance. 

Romance?  Definitely a romance.  And I'd bet they'd never think to

call it that, but as I said, sometimes a third party sees more than

others.

Ask me if I was sad... yes.  Ask me if I was jealous... oh, yes.

Ask me if my practical, realistic nature took over and beat some

sense into me? 

Well, yes.  That newfound sense was what got my legs moving.  I

turned and walked the other way, toward the Hoover.  All the way back

I couldn't help but think: how lovely, if I'd been the one who sat

next to Agent Fox Mulder on that bench and held his hand, looked up

into his hazel eyes, melted into his warm regard. 

How lovely, indeed.

I got back to the Hoover in record time and hopped on the first

elevator that opened.  I leaned into the corner and tried hard not to

brood... well, not too much.  I told myself Fox Mulder was probably a

vain dickhead with no sense of humor and possessed a load of

arrogance to boot.  Of course, as soon as I thought it I discounted

it.  He wasn't that kind of guy, I could tell. 

I could also tell it would take some time for me to forget the

luscious way he filled out expensive Armani.

The elevator stopped at Floor Three and the doors opened.  Staring

down at the tops of my shoes, I failed to notice who had gotten on

the elevator, until the light scent of vanilla and lemon tickled my

nose. Two of my favorite scents in the world; I looked up to see who

would wear both at once...

Oh, my.

She was tall, slender, elegant in a dark gray, severely-cut suit the

color of storm clouds.  Donna Karan, I'd bet my last dollar.  Dark

hair, cut short and tousled around her face; large, lovely hazel

eyes.  Full lips, painted red.  She was perfect.  Just what I'd been

looking for.

"Hi.  You're new, aren't you?  I'm Lisa Everly.  I work in

Procurement."

I smiled at her, thinking that sometimes, just sometimes, people are

given a second chance.  "Nice to meet you, Lisa.  My name's Barry

Cooper.  I'm the new agent in town."

As I shook her hand and the sensation of touching her skin sent a

pleasant shiver throughout my body, I was suddenly - for the first

time in my life - happy that I liked women as much as I liked men. 

She'd do nicely.

She wasn't as beautiful as Fox Mulder, but then, who in hell is?

End

End note:  Barry Cooper gets lucky!!  Hey, I had to give him

something, after letting him have only a glimpse of Mulder in the

men's room, right??  <g>

Ender note:  I just realized I wrote UST.  Will wonders never cease?

Hope you enjoyed my little return to the "Harriet and Johnson"

universe!

Love to hear from you anytime; email me!  char@chaffin.com

The website enjoys visits from friends!  Http://char.chaffin.con