Title: I Want To Believe
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Fox Mulder
Fandom: Doctor Who/The X-Files
Rating: PG
Table: doctorwho_100
Prompt: 42, Alien
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Fox Mulder, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

This was utterly crazy.

Not that he wasn't used to being called insane, Fox Mulder reflected as he stood across the street from what looked like an innocuous little café. What was he doing here? The lead he'd been given couldn't possibly mean anything.

But he'd seen too much in his years with the FBI, working with the X-Files, to turn down any proof that there were aliens in the world. And when he'd been told that there was an alien around this area, he'd listened, against his better judgement.

He found it hard to credit what his source had said; an alien who looked like a human? One who could blend in perfectly? He couldn't help but scoff at that. They might be able to hide what they were for a while, but sooner or later, they'd slip up.

Still, he hadn't been able to keep himself away. And here he was, looking in every direction for anything that seemed the slightest bit out of place.

No, there didn't seem to be anything unusual here, he thought, his eyes darting around the area that he'd been told to watch. There was nothing but the café and the other places around it, a laundromat, a bookshop, and a video rental place.

This had been a wild-goose chase from the beginning. He shouldn't have listened to what he'd been told; this was just someone playing a joke on him, trying to have a good laugh at his expense. And he'd fallen for it.

As Mulder turned to make his way back to his car a little over a block away, a shimmer in the air caught his eye. He blinked, raised a hand to rub his eyes, then blinked again. No. He couldn't have seen what he thought he had.

This wasn't possible. Objects didn't just appear out of thin air.

But this one had. Where there had been only an empty stretch of grass behind a bench at the bus stop on the corner, there was now a blue police call box. Something that wouldn't be out of place on the streets of London, but was definitely out of place here.

Aliens didn't travel in British police call boxes. They traveled in spaceships, with sophisticated equipment that took them through light years.

He just hadn't noticed the blue box before. That was it. He'd .... somehow overlooked it, or his mind had been playing tricks on him because he'd been so focused on what he thought he would see that he hadn't noticed what was actually there.

Mulder shook his head as though to clear it, focusing on the blue box again. No, he hadn't simply overlooked it. That police box hadn't been there a few seconds ago. It had .... just appeared, out of nowhere.

It wasn't possible. But he'd seen it -- or, as the case may be, hadn't seen it until it had appeared. And to him, that spelled alien technology. Some kind of cloaking device had probably kept it hidden until the beings in it had wanted it to be visible.

He frowned, debating whether to cross the street and take a closer look. It could be dangerous, but that had never stopped him from running into situations that he knew he shouldn't have been in when he was actively working with the Bureau.

Danger be damned, he told himself, waiting for the light to change so that he could safely cross the street. It couldn't be any more dangerous than other situations he'd faced.

Cautiously circling the blue box, Mulder debated whether or not he should have his gun out; it more than likely wouldn't do him any good if he came face-to-face with aliens, and he didn't want to scare anyone who might happen to walk by.

Besides, he was no longer working with the FBI. He was on "sabbatical," which was a fancy way of saying that they didn't want him around. They'd gotten tired of dealing with what they referred to as his "delusions" -- and of trying to cover up their actions.

If this was some kind of elaborate hoax, he'd find out soon enough. And if it was the real thing, he'd be willing to bet that his informant had come from somewhere within the agency. He still had friends there, people who would give him an inside track.

He wasn't sure if this could be a hoax or not. It seemed ridiculous to even consider that this could be an alien ship. It was just a normal police call box -- though it would obviously be more at home in a city far away from here.

Still .... he knew that it hadn't been there the first time he'd looked around the area. There was something too weird about this.

And he meant to get to the bottom of whatever it was, no matter how much trouble he might get into for poking into something that he apparently wasn't meant to be in. He'd done that before; it should be expected of him by now.

Mulder jumped back as the door of the "ship" opened behind him; he swung around, pulling out his gun and opening his mouth to say something. But what he saw made him freeze in his tracks, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

This definitely wasn't what he'd expected. This was no alien. This was a man, a tall, handsome man who could make anybody with more than two living brain cells to rub together and a working libido feel weak at the knees.

He hadn't expected to see the proverbial little green men -- but neither had he expected to be confronted with a man who was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous that different parts of his body were melting and hardening at the same time.

Slowly, he lowered the gun, taking in the surprised look on the man's face. If he was an alien, he'd done a masterful job of disguising himself. He looked like a normal, garden-variety human being -- that is, if all humans were so strikingly good-looking.

"You're an alien," Mulder breathed, more a question than a statement, though he tried not to make it sound like one. Somehow, that seemed rude.

"H-how did you know?" The man was obviously startled; he apparently hadn't expected anyone to say those words in a greeting. His accent was British; no wonder he was traveling through space in a blue police box, Mulder thought incoherently.

Nothing about this made sense. This man couldn't possibly be an alien. There was something very weird about how he'd suddenly appeared -- for one thing, he looked as though he couldn't fit his tall, lanky body into such a small space.

"Does that mean that you are?" He felt like an idiot asking a question like that, but he couldn't hold the words back. He was standing here pointing a gun at a man who might or might not be from another planet -- and all he wanted to do was ask him out for a cup of coffee.

The tall, thin man grimaced, apparently doing a quick mental calculation. "I shouldn't have said that," he muttered, shaking his head. "But I suppose I gave too much away. Maybe if you saw the inside of the Tardis, you'd understand."

The Tardis? What the hell was a Tardis? Mulder didn't want to ask.

His eyes moved to the blue box, wondering what was inside. It was tiny; both of them couldn't possibly fit into that small space. Not exactly a comfortable way to travel.

The other man shook his head again, then smiled, holding out one thin hand. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude," he said, his dark eyes meeting Mulder's. "I'm the Doctor. Regardless of whatever else you want to think I am."

Mulder wasn't sure whether to take the proffered hand or not, but at the moment, he saw no reason not to. This was getting more interesting by the second; he was apparently standing here actually shaking hands with an alien.

"Fox Mulder," he murmured, wondering what the hell he was doing, if he'd be vaporized in the next few moments, taken away in what was apparently a spaceship, or if he'd sit down and talk to this strange man and get some answers to the questions already crowding into his mind.

He wanted to believe. He'd always wanted that. And here was proof, at last. At least, that was what it seemed to be.

"Well, Fox Mulder, let's have a chat, shall we?" The other man stood aside, indicating with a sweep of his hand that he wanted Mulder to enter the police box. "Don't worry, she doesn't bite," he said, that smile curving his lips again.

Mulder wanted to refuse, but he found himself moving forward, drawn by his own curiosity. He might not have a chance like this again -- and besides, there was something about this man that made him want to know more about who he was and where he came from.

Here goes nothing, he thought as he took a deep breath and stepped through the open door.

***

Next story in series - Seeing Is Believing.