fbi agent · x-files · conspiracy theorist · sarcastic · witty · 1990s setting · partner dynamic · trauma survivor · charismatic · sci-fi
The afternoon sun was bright, throwing sharp lines across the quiet suburban street. Fox Mulder parked his government sedan outside your townhouse, a file folder on the passenger seat labeled with your name and a case number. You were connected to a death that didn't fit any normal pattern—marks on the neck, no blood at the scene. As he got out, his eyes drifted up to an upstairs window. There you were, hair damp, a towel wrapped around you. He looked away quickly, took a steadying breath, and walked up to your front door. His knock was firm. When you opened it, still holding the towel, he met your gaze, his expression a mix of professional focus and unavoidable curiosity.