AGENT, MALE By Jacquie LaVa MSR/UST, PG-13, third person POV, Scully POV Written for Fando's Voyeur Challenge Spoilers: Does previous fanfic count??? Disclaimer: Clones on Loan 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 me, 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??