Title: The Muse
Author: Chad
Email: Im_havoc@yahoo.com
Date: April 18th, 2001
Fandom: The X Files
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete
Archive: Yes, please
Feedback: Please
Disclaimers: Fox Mulder, Alex Krycek and Walter Skinner all belong to Mr. Chris Carter. I'm only borrowing them.
Summary: An author experiencing writer's block finds his inspiration.

Part One: Blocked

Everything was in place. A tall, cool glass of ice water; a favorite CD in the stereo; a comfortable pillow behind the back; and a framed photograph of Fox Mulder sitting on the desk. Checking for the third time I find that nothing is missing... Yet, why is the sky blue of the computer screen staring blankly at me?

With the sound of cracking knuckles I try again. Limber fingers hover above the waiting keyboard while the melodic strains of John Williams' score for THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK reaches my ears. The Imperial Walkers are attacking the rebel base on Hoth -already! By the time the CD reaches track #5 I'm usually writing the middle of a chapter! Why isn't it working tonight? For goodness sake, I can't even think of a proper title!

Perhaps what I really need is mood music? Maybe the exciting battle suite isn't the right note - if you'll pardon the pun - for composing the type of story I want.

I search through the various CD titles looking for something to catch my eye. Something that will get the creative juices flowing. There's a million story ideas fighting for attention in my mind. Unfortunately, not one of them will find its way to the screen.

I realize that I'm still a bit wet-behind-the-ears concerning X Files slash fiction. That's no excuse! I've written seven consecutive fan fictions for Charmed, why am I having trouble creating an opening scenario for The X Files?

As I consider the metaphorical stone wall baring access to my imagination, my eyes alight on a particular CD. Soon the rock 'n' roll sound of Def Leppard's "Photograph" invades my senses. Now this is more like it! Certainly a fantastic story will leap out at any moment.

'I'm outta luck, outta love
Got a photograph
Picture of
Passion killer
You're too much
You're the only one
I wanna touch.'

Come on! You can do it! I notice my fingers remain frozen, hovering over the keys. I've waited so long that the screen saver - appropriately enough an image of Mulder - appears. Sighing, I take a sip of water and stare over to my favorite picture. "Why can't I think of anything?" I ask it aloud as the music continues.

'I see your face
Every time I dream
On every page
Every magazine
So wild, so free
So far from me
You're all I want
My fantasy.'

So true! I think, holding the picture up to the light. I can actually feel my heart skip a beat. "Mr. Mulder, it should be against the law to be so good-looking!"

'You got some kinda hold on me
You're all wrapped up in mystery
So wild, so free
So far from me
You're all I want
My fantasy.'

Okay, I think I've chosen the wrong song! My thoughts are running out of control and this is no way to begin writing a story. Argh! This frustrated, no wonder I can't think. All I want to do is write a good story...

"You know, I've always liked that picture," a familiar, husky voice said over my shoulder.

A chill suddenly ran up my spine resulting in a wave of goose pimples. The song reaches the bridge...

'You've gone straight to my head!'

...and all I can do is agree. Turning slowly, my mouth drops open from shock. For standing beside me was none other than Special Agent Fox Mulder!

Blinking several times, my eyes refuse to dismiss the vision before me. Criminally handsome in his slightly buttoned down dress shirt complete with rolled up sleeves and dark pants. He bit his bottom lip and moved his head in time to the music. I nearly fall out of the chair and I finally remember to breathe.

"Great song," he smiled.

Somehow I found my voice. "Am I deaming?" I whisper.

Mulder knelt beside me and the intense look within his startling eyes matched by the intoxicating scent of his body causes me to go completely limp.

"Pinch me and find out," he laughed. The sweetest sound I'd ever heard. "No, you're not dreaming. I'm here to help you."


PART TWO: Inspiration

Fox Mulder - THE Fox Mulder - is here to help me?! I can barely believe my eyes let alone what I just heard. This very real figment of my imagination is in my bedroom... there's no way I'll let this moment pass me by.

"Call me The Muse of Slash if you like, but I'm here to get you back on track," Mulder told me.

"H-how?" I manage to stammer.

Suddenly, Mulder became very animated. "You see, I know every thought inside your head. You've got so many exciting ideas... We've just got to get them out."

"I want to so badly," I tell him. "I don't know why..." I stop mid-sentence and whisper to myself, "You're actually talking to Fox Mulder!"

Mulder came round the other side and pulled up a chair. "Now, I know you can do this. You're already taking part in two round robins..."

"I know, but..."

"No buts about it!" He thought about this for a second. "On the other hand, that is an inspirational image."

I chuckle at this and it does stir up a fascinating visual. As if reading my mind he continued, "See I told you."

I look back at the tauntingly blank computer screen. The words refuse to materialize. I realize that my concentration is nil with Mulder sitting beside me.

"Come on," he said gently. "Writing is your destiny."

"Destiny? Isn't that just a fancy word for blind luck?" I ask.

Mulder shook his head. "Trust me."

I cock my own head to the side and give him a crooked grin. "And you were the one that taught us to Trust No One!"

I found myself rewarded with a sly grin. One of those patented Fox Mulder smiles that makes you melt in your socks. You know the one I mean!

"I can see I'm just going to have to show you," he announced. Suddenly he turned my chair around and pointed toward the bed.

"The most popular fan fics pair me with Krycek," he told me.

I quite literally feel my eyes standing out on stalks. Lying in my very own bed were Mulder and Krycek completely naked and kissing passionately.

"Hot, don't you think?" Mulder teased. I feel a hot wave envelop me and just as quickly as the mirage appeared, it was gone.

The crack of leather on leather made me nearly jump out of the chair. Mulder turned me around again and I find myself face to face with Walter Skinner decked from head to toe in glistening black leather.

"Gordon Bennett!" I exclaim.

"Then there's the sub/dom fics," Mulder indicated.

Skinner waved the riding crop in Mulder's direction. "Down on your knees, boy!" he ordered.

The vision faded and Mulder coughed under his breath. "I think I'll save that one for later," he said with a wink.

The next thing I knew, the bathroom door flew open of its own accord. Mulder swung me around once more to be greeted by the sight of the Lone Gunmen stepping out of a steamy shower.

"Mulder, we've been waiting for you," Frohike called from across the room.

Mulder turned back to me with a mischievious gleam in his eye. "See, we've only scratched the surface."

"For the love of Fox," I whisper, not knowing how many more scenes I can take.

With a wave of his hand, Mulder closed the bathroom door and gave me a curious stare. "Ah-ha!"

"What 'ah-ha'?"

"I think I've found the source of your writer's block!" he announced.

"You have?" I sit up, eagerly anticipating the answer.

Mulder began to pace around me, putting on the voice he usually reserved for explaining his theories to Scully.

"You're a romantic at heart. I can see that you'd like to write a love story."

I nod, following his lead. He abruptly halted in front of me.

"What is love?" he asked, point blank.

I consider this. "Well, when you care about something or someone more than yourself, I guess."

"Exactly!" He snapped his fingers as if making the greatest discovery in the universe. "I'm very touched that you want to write a love story for me. Keep in mind what springs from love - passion."

I click this over.

"Make your fantasies come to life," Mulder pressed.

"What fantasies?" I blush.

"About me," he said. "All of those pent-up dreams are the fuel you need!"

As the first notes of Lynda Carter's "Fantasy Man" play from the stereo, I can't deny his statement. Fox Mulder is the ultimate fantasy man. And the dreams I've had about him could fill up a library!

'You're my fantasy man And loving you is easy You're my fantasy man When I'm alone you keep me good company Oh, it's where I always wanna be With my fantasy Fantasy man.'

Swivelling my chair back in front of the desk, Mulder leaned his head over my shoulder. "Take all of those built up fantasies and create your story," he advised.

He moved toward the bedroom door. "I better go now. Skinner and Krycek are waiting for me in a story..." There was a sudden look of concern on his gorgeous face. "Just think of your dreams whenever you feel stuck. We're all depending on you..."

Suddenly, I jerk awake. I find that the music has lulled me to sleep before the computer; Mulder's photo still clutched in my hand. I was really living in a dream world!

"Thank you," I tell his image. I have a story, several in fact; all I need now is a snappy title for the first one.

Smiling, I tap out on the keys:

Chapter One