This story was written in response to a challenge on alt.startrek.creative (write it online, no betas, include your favorite pair, involve swimming). It turned into a crossover. Um. Yeah. Have fun.
Title: Things You Don't Expect in the FBI Gym at 3 AM
Author: Laura Jacquez Valentine (laurav@stones.com)
Codes: S/?, Mulder/?
Rating: PG
Summary: Response to Sydvick's challenge of 8 May 1999
Series: TOS/X-Files Xover
Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom. FOX. Chris Carter. 1013. Pas moi.


Things You Don't Expect in the FBI Gym at 3 AM.

Fox Mulder ran on the treadmill. He'd been running for half an hour, and hadn't yet run the demons out of his soul. He shook his head, feeling the sweat spray from his hair, and stared at the clock. 3 AM.

He should have gone home hours ago, but he'd stayed. Work had done nothing to stop the fantasies, running had done nothing. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and he closed his eyes.

When he opened them, someone else was in the room.

Someone who looked exactly like Spock. From Star Trek.

Mulder blinked.

Spock was still there.

I am obviously going insane, Mulder thought to himself.

He stopped the treadmill and headed to the locker room, where he stripped and put on his Speedos. When he got to the pool, Spock was there, testing the water with his toe, his Starfleet boot in his hand.

Mulder ignored him and dove into the water. Laps would help. He'd swim it out of himself. And Spock would go away, and he'd be too tired for fantasies, and...

And he stopped at the other end of the pool to see if Spock was still there, and he was. Wearing only black boxer briefs, and dangling his legs in the water.

Mulder groaned and swam back. He could feel the Vulcan's eyes on him.

I've completely lost it, he thought. They're going to lock me up for sure this time.

He reached the end of the pool and held onto the side. "Well?"

Spock looked at him impassively. "You are Fox Mulder, correct?"

"That's me. And you are a fictional character."

The Vulcan frowned at him. "So are you. We all are."

"Who's we?"

"You. Me. The person writing this story."

"There's no one writing this story."

"It's easy to believe in UFOs, isn't it? Easy to believe in logic. Not so easy to believe that you are an imagined being, like a unicorn. Except that unicorns are real."

"I am going crazy."

"It doesn't matter. It will be over soon." Spock lowered himself into the water. "Humans always amaze me. So few of them have any sense of the value of water." He patted the surface of the water with the palms of his hands, sending little splashes in all directions.

"Why are you here?"

Spock stopped patting the water. "You needed someone to talk to, and you couldn't talk to your partner."

"What makes you think--"

"One, you don't believe I'm here, which will make it easier to talk to me. Two, you identify with me, quite strongly. Three, you know I have had a similar problem."

Mulder stared at him for a full minute.

"All right. Fine. So what do you do when you're in love with your boss? And he's male? And straight?"

Spock ducked under the water, and came up, droplets shining on his eyelashes. "You either tell him, or you don't. If you do, and he says no, you accept it or you leave. If you don't, you either get over it or you leave. That is why I went to Gol."

"Did you ever tell him?"

"Yes. He was quite...demonstrative."

"Huh."

"I confess that I had hoped for more eloquence on your part."

"At 3 AM?"

"Humans are enslaved to the clock. I have never fully comprehended it."

"Yes, well. So you think I should tell him?"

"Yes. I think you should tell him. You will not have a moment's peace until you do."

"What's Kirk like? Really."

"Really? He is no more real than I. To me, he is...brilliant. Unashamedly, wantonly human, but very intelligent, and very controlled. I find the combination fascinating."

Mulder grinned. "Any good in bed?"

"Am I what, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder blinked. Spock was gone. Standing above him, dressed only in--oh God--black Speedos--was Assistant Director Skinner.

---
The End