Anywhere But Where I Want to Be
Author- Araxdelan
Disclaimer- Chris Carter may own their bodies, but he'll
never own their souls.
Rating- PG
Sumarry- Little snip about Alex's mistakes in life
Notes- I wrote this awhile ago. Right after The Red and the Black. Never
even considered posting it, until now. So, anyway, this isn't exactly up to
date with the mythology. 

Thanks to Lone Gungirl for pushing me to post, and for beta. You're the
greatest!



~*Anywhere But Where I Want to Be*~

   	
               Where ever I end up, it always seems to be the wrong place.  
Quantico when the consortium was recruiting young, innocent 
agents-to-be, William Mulder’s bathroom that fateful night, Tuguska 
when....
  	
               And then there was that night I showed up at Mulder’s 
apartment, speaking of aliens and world domination and things that 
should be feared. Close to him, having him at my feet. Fox Mulder, 
my burning passion, someone I desired and lusted for since the 
moment we met. And I know I can never have the man, because he is 
good and I am evil. All summed up in one statement, no room for 
circumstance.

  	And yet I could not stop what I felt, no matter how many 
times I reprimanded myself for thinking the impossible. I don’t know 
quite what drives me to him, time after time. He is a man of fury, his 
eyes filled with fiery passion, engulfing all he sees, torching my very 
soul. He fills himself with elemental desires, ceasing for no man or 
beast. Maybe I crave him because he is the man I desire to be, driven 
and courageous, but honorable.

   	And I feel I have long passed the point at which I could 
change, to become more like him. So instead I went, and pointed him 
in the right direction, not expecting pity to be taken on my soul, but 
hoping it may ease the burden upon his. And he lay at my feet, 
unusually cooperative, and I sat him up and finished what I had to say, 
and I knew it was time to leave. But I looked at him and knew that 
tomorrow or the next day or the next day either of us could be dead. 
And I leaned down and touched my lips to his cheek, a light touch, and 
all in one moment I was again someplace I shouldn’t be, and 
someplace I didn’t want to be, and someplace I wanted to be all the 
same. And then I broke away.

  	As I pulled back, I half expected him to hit me, despite the 
fact that I was pointing his own gun at him. But he made no move and I 
quickly returned his gun to him. And I knew it was dangerous, for he 
wanted me dead, but I didn’t care.  //Maybe death is what I need, for I 
stole a kiss that shouldn’t have been taken, took something never 
offered to me. But then again perhaps I’m being selfish, expecting a 
quick death, unlike the harsh pounding ripping tearing agonizing one 
my unrequited love is putting me through.// I turned, and left, calling 
Mulder my friend, though I knew even this was a dream too distant to 
be reached. But no matter what happens, I will always think of him as 
that, even if he is the one to pull the trigger and end my mis-guided life.

  	And now I sit, and I think back to that kiss, and think maybe, 
maybe I felt something, some response that he couldn’t hide. And I 
wonder, if I had instead kissed his lips, would he have been able to 
resist? And then I well up with guilt for I had already taken too much 
from him. But my curiosity overturns the feeling, and once again, 
I’m anywhere but where I want to be.    



The 
End