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From the first time I saw him I wanted him. I had admired him ever since I first heard of him, back when he was still a profiler, but when I first laid eyes on him, well, it was like being struck with lightning. If he had set out to put my libido into high gear he could not have succeeded better.
It was in the swimming hall that I first saw Fox Mulder in the flesh. I had thought no one would be there that early in the morning but as I entered I saw a water drenched figure getting up at the end of the pool. The glittering of water drops on skin, the tightness of those small red swimming trunks, the hand with those long sensitive fingers stroking unkempt damp hair out of eyes I knew to be hazel - I had studied his file carefully, preparing myself for the job - all combined to make me blush and retreat into the shadows. This was the man I was being set to guard, to stop him from finding the truth, to keep him from the X-files? I tried denying my feelings, blaming the sudden lack of saliva in my mouth and the tightness of my trousers on the fact that I couldn't even remember when I had last gone to bed with anyone. But good as I may be at lying I am lousy at lying for myself. When I was introduced to him, when he gave me that arrogant look and said: "I don't need a partner. I work alone." then I realized I was hooked. Hooked on the drug that is Special Agent Fox Mulder of the FBI, hooked on the pouty lower lip and those clear hazel eyes. He can never hide his feelings, no matter how hard he tries. It always comes out in his eyes. I want to see those eyes burning with passion, clouded with desire, nibble on that lower lip and feel those hands all over my body. I walk around like a time set bomb, the most casual touch can start a chain reaction that transfers itself to my groin. I am glad I do not blush easily or he would have found it all out long ago.
He has come to trust me, he treats me like a partner. Not like Scully, of course, but like something more agreeable than pond scum. He does not know yet that I am pond scum. Sometimes we have lunch together, talking like friends. I live for those moments, yet I dread them. The last time Scully was there too. I do not know what to think about Agent Scully. I do not want to think anything about her, yet I cannot stop. She is so close to Mulder, closer than I will ever be. That was why...
Sometimes Scully looked at me with those penetrating blue eyes of hers, looked at me as if she could see right through me. As if she knew everything there was to know about me. But if she knew, she would have told him, would she not? And she has never said anything about her suspicions. But every time she looked at me I felt like six-years-old Aleksandr again, caught stealing cookies, standing there, just waiting for the blow to fall.
Scully. Dana Scully, his former partner, the one Mulder trusts above everything. I think he sees her as his sister, someone to count on at all times. I wish that one could be me.
Scully is the reason I am here now. I am sitting in a car. He is driving, driving recklessly and too fast, bending over the wheel and holding it so hard his knuckles have whitened. The way he clenches his teeth will probably give him a headache. I have never seen him this tense, this single-minded. His face is just a mask now. He is going after Scully. And all I want to do is to help him find her, to take him home and run the tension out of him, kiss away his troubles and make him forget his nightmares, at least for one night. But that is the one thing I cannot do. I cannot even touch him because I know that if he looks at me like that again, with that look of combined helplessness, anger and desperation, then, so help me God, I would just melt into his embrace and tell him everything.
He probably would not kill me. But my boss, the man he calls the Cancer Man, would, and it would not be a good death. One does not cross Cancer Man. This car ride is the one thing I have before he finds out. Before he starts to hate me. After this I will only have memories.
He will not call me 'Alex' again.