Title: What A Way To Meet

Author/pseudonym: Charlie MC

Email address: camelotslash1@qwest.net (but prefer you comment to the list site -- unless you're shy!)

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: "Profiler" "X-Files" crossover

Pairing: George Fraley/Fox Mulder

Date: 9 December, 2000

Archive: yes - please tell me where

Series: probably no

Category: Slash

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, they are only on loan... I mean no disrespect to either tv series or anyone
connected with them.

Summary: George and Mulder 'meet' in a Chat Room. You can guess the rest! (Might add John Grant in a future part.)

Don't have any particular seasons or eps in mind...

Warnings: If male/male relationship bother you, go away now.

Previously cross-posted at the Georgeprofilerslash list.


What A Way To Meet
By Charlie MC
xxxxx

As George tapped away at the keys, he heard the tiny tone that signaled incoming email. He knew he should stick to his research, but he'd been at it for over two hours straight, and he was both tired and terribly bored.

He glanced around the room and found it empty, though through the large glass windows he could see people walking around in the adjoining areas. Still, there was no sign of Bailey...

He brought up his email, and highlighted the message, noting the subject line. It read simply, "Blackberry Jelly." He glanced nervously around him at the words. It was a code that he knew well. George had recently joined a very interesting list...

Opening the email, he quickly scanned it, and found himself laughing out loud. It was witty and teasing and he found himself both delighted and flushed with excitement. The tag line invited him to come to a chat room, and the time it gave was only 20 minutes away...

"George? How's it coming?"

George almost jumped at the husky sound of John Grant's voice behind him. Good God! John had not only entered the room without George noticing, but managed to walk right up behind him, too!

George cleared his throat to give him time to think. "Ahh... it's coming along slowly. I don't seem to be finding what we're looking for."

Grant's hand fell on George's shoulder, and again he suppressed his surprise -- but just barely!

"Yeah, I guess we take you for granted sometimes. It just seems like you can always pull the rabbit out of your hat there," Grant said, gesturing down at George's computer.

George gave a nervous giggle. "I guess usually I can," he managed to get out, leaning in and minimizing his email. He began to type quickly, anxious to make John believe that he was too engrossed in work to continue to chat. Oh God! 'Chat' was hardly the word he wanted jumping around in his > head at this moment...

John squeezed George's shoulder before releasing it. "Don't worry. Something's going to break on this case. It's only a matter of time." He yawned widely, and George realized that he wasn't the only one who was tired.

"You should head home, shouldn't you?" he suggested. "Be fresh for tomorrow?"

Grant nodded. "Yeah. The rest of the team's gone. I just wanted to give you a head's up and send you home. Bailey called in and isn't coming back 'til morning." John grabbed up his leather jacket and flung it over one shoulder. "So pack it in, cowboy," he continued, and walked out the open door.

George smiled, struck as always by John's good looks and sense of style. Even casual the man dressed beautifully. And he took care with his hair and manicure. Very dapper...

George started as his computer again signaled an incoming email. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was time for the chat he'd been invited to. Should he go, or simply head for home?

xxxxx

George forced himself to stand and stretch, glancing through the windows at the people still working in adjoining areas. His computer sat beckoning him...

He sat down again, and pulled up his bookmark for the list. He quickly selected Chat and waited, somewhat impatient now...

He was prompted for a username for chatting, and decided on 'Georgie' - feeling a bit silly as he typed it in. He entered, and waited, scanning the page. He wanted to find out what was being discussed, and to see if the person who had invited him was already logged in...

He'd been to this Chat Room a few times before, and had been well entertained by the messages which seem to fly back and forth. This wasn't a typical area with either obnoxious teenagers or too many computer geeks (though he could hardly discount the fact that he was certainly the latter!). Rather, it seemed to have more than the usual share of intelligent and clever-minded people, who were quick to type in a response to the messages sent by others...

Typing a clever line of his own, George smiles at the quick-witted replies. He loves playing these pleasant little internet sex games... It's almost as good as the real thing!

Someone asks for a more detailed description of the act George has just made a veiled reference to. He ponders, and finds himself with a growing erection. He shifts in the chair and considers again, typing swiftly.

'X-rated' signals to George to go to a private chat. Could this be his mysterious friend? The only way to know is to agree...

=You were pretty outrageous when you chatted last week.=

Deciding to be a bit coy and non-commital, George types a quick two-word answer.

=Was I?=

=I think last time you were here as 'JohnnyG' - weren't you?=

George grins. Found out!

=Yes. Just borrowing a friend's name for the chat. He wouldn't mind.=

=A 'good' friend?=

=Sure. The best kind.=

John would kill him if he knew, but seeing as he wouldn't find out...

=I'm jealous.=

=No need. I suspect you were here as 'TheTruth' last time. Or maybe I'm wrong...?=

=Pegged! Guess we've gotten to know each other rather well.=

=Who is the list master for this site?=

=Not me. You're wondering if I have access to your addy...=

=Actually, I was thinking we could dump the middle-man here, and just email back and forth. I guess the truth is out (excuse both puns!), and I'd really like to just have a little internet 'affair' with you.=

=I'm flattered -- and game. But my job screws with my access sometimes. We'll have to try and be flexible about the timing.=

=Let's come up with a new subject line to notify each other. How about something innane but 'normal' like Subject: Computer Class Available?=

=Yeah, that'd be us. Taking our computer courses!=

=That's the point. No one would think it was anything that would actually interest us. : )=

=Oh God! Don't start with those ridiculous 'smiley faces' and other crap! You haven't seemed like the type until now...=

George grinned again, and typed faster.

=Sorry! Everyone seems to expect that.=

=I love the internet, but think we're killing the English language. I hope you're not going to resort to symbols in place of hard, descriptive language for what you want to do with me!=

=Trust me. I can spell it all out in glorious detail. I'm practically ready to fall off my chair right now thinking about it.=

=I'm a sofa kind of guy. I'm sitting there right now. If things get hot, I'll just sprawl here.=

=I like that picture.=

=Damn! Sorry, but I have to answer my cell phone. Sit tight, okay?=

=Sure.=

George finds the minutes crawling by while he stares at the screen, waiting for his e-lover to return.

=Back. Sorry to break this up, but I have to go to work. I'll invite you to take a Class as soon as I can! Okay?=

=I understand. I'll be on pins and needles 'til I hear from you.=

=That sounds both kinky and masochistic! I'll contact you as soon as I can.=

George sighs as his new 'internet lover' leaves the Chat Room. Time to log out and head for home...

He finds that his erection has dwindled, so he'll be able to stand and walk out without embarrassment. Damn work, anyway...

Too bad Rich is out of town, he thinks. But I'd just have to go home and wake him if he weren't! George grins to himself. It wouldn't be the first time he'd jumped a sleeping Rich after coming in at some ungodly hour...

Before signing off and shutting down his computer, George runs the software to dump anything that might not have been caught by his personal shielding program. No point in having any sign of his fun left for prying F.B.I. eyes to read and object to!

Finally it's time to head home. Yawning, George grabs his jacket and snaps off the light. Hopefully he'll be able to get a few hours of sleep before coming back in for another tedious day of computer research!

xxxxx

"George? You're really drooping today."

Straightening at the sound of John's hissed whisper, George notices that Bailey is glaring at him from across the room. Terrific. That was all he needed...

"And... as I was saying, Rachel feels the motivation here is possibly monetary, so let's check out bank records. George?"

"I'm on it," he answered quickly, shifting to his keyboard as eagerly as he could manage.

"John," George winced at Bailey's tone. "Check out those three men we discussed yesterday."

"Alone?" John sounded unhappy at the prospect.

Bailey didn't answer, but shot John a hard look.

"Rachel, there's no sign of pollen anywhere. I checked both the clothing and the bodies again, but it's not there."

"Thanks, Grace. It was just a hunch."

"Rachel and I are going back to the last crime scene. We'll check it again, in case we overlooked pollen."

"Ah... Bailey?" John started, still in his seat next to George.

"Are you still here?" Bailey asked, turning to glance at John.

"I'm on it," John answered, his voice a bit tight. George felt for him. John seemed to get all the grunt work...

Not that it was so pleasant to do the computer searches! Sometimes George wondered if Bailey knew how hard the things he wanted were to find. He should try doing a standard search with some user-friendly browser, George thought. Bet he couldn't find his ass with both hands. For some reason that cheered George, and he smiled to himself.

"I don't know what else I can do with the forensic evidence, Bailey. I've looked at it ten ways to Sunday, but you know my findings as well as I do."

"I appreciate the effort, Grace. Why don't you head home until there's something new."

"Thanks."

Rachel grabbed up her leather jacket, and she and Bailey exited, leaning close as they chatted. Wonder if there's something up there, George thought briefly, before turning back to his computer.

George found his mind wandering as he almost automatically sought out the bank accounts of the three male suspects. After arriving home last night, he'd suddenly realized that he hadn't asked "X-rated" (otherwise known as "TheTruth") what his email address was...

George was sure he could trace it easily enough -- though this was a completely illegal act! -- but wasn't sure if he should...

Maybe 'X-rated' would rather that he wait 'til they could go back to the Chat room and 'officially' exchange their addresses. Or maybe he'd be flattered that George had been so industrious in attempting to find him. Hmmm...

The phone suddenly began to blare insistently, and George grabbed for it, bumping his elbow a nasty whack in the process. He cursed under his breath, and answered.

"Fraley."

"George, it's John. I haven't really had any luck here. Without Rachel along, I'm only guessing as to what I'm looking for..."

John's voice sounded very low to George.

"Hey, cheer up. You're doing the best you can! Besides, you've become a pretty damn good profiler yourself, John."

"Thanks, George. I needed to hear that."

George found himself smiling, glad he could make John's voice lighten and ring with pleasure. He thought -- not for the first time -- of just how much he cared about John Grant.

"Are you coming back in?"

Static flowed through the phone for a moment. "Yeah. I'm on my way. I'd like about two hours more sleep, but what the hell. Maybe Bailey or Rachel will call..."

"See you when you get here," George replied, and after saying their goodbyes, he returned the phone to the receiver.

Better think about his personal life later. He didn't want to be totally distracted when John came in. It might make the man curious...

==================

The case was finally solved, though not without another death and some messy manuevering. Seeing John's ashen face after the death of the final victim, George was glad that he hadn't been called into the field. The girl had been very young, and freshly pretty before the killer worked his horrible ways with her. George knew that John was pretty immune to discomfort after all his years as a cop, so it was a disturbing thought to know that even he could be shaken. How awful it must have been...

George continued with the necessary paperwork that a finished case involved, glad for once to be a bit bored. He watched Rachel and Bailey laughing as they exchanged some joke, and listened as Grace chatted with some other forensics specialist. Only John was sitting motionless. His
lips were parted, and there were bags under his eyes. He really should be home in bed, George thought. That brought a quick flashing heat across his face, and he glanced quickly away from his colleague. He had enough complications in his life right now as it was!

Pondering the page in front of him, George jumped at the sound of an incoming email. He pulled it up, thinking it would be the form he had requested earlier in the day. Instead, the subject line read, "Blackberry Jelly." He hadn't seen this since his last forray into what he thought of as the 'forbidden zone!'

That wasn't the real name of the list, but he always tended to think of it as that. In fact, he couldn't remember the real name of the list...

Opening the message, he saw that there was a Chat scheduled for the following night. I wish, he thought, that it was tonight. Richard was gone yet again, and he hated going home to his lonely apartment and cold, monastic bed...

He felt the usual flush of excitement. He glanced guiltily around the room. The bulge in his pants wasn't just for the thought of the risque chatting he'd so been enjoying... it was also the thought of talking to 'X-rated' again -- and this time asking for a private email address...

How would he be able to sit still for two more boring work days? It seemed impossible...

George started at the sudden noise. His gaze jumped to John Grant, who was slumped over the long table. He'd dozed off, and in the process had knocked over his empty coffee mug. Thank heavens it was empty, George thought. Otherwise John would be here late re-writing the forms scattered in front of him...

I'll just wake him, and tell him to go home, George thought, rising from his chair.

"John!" Bailey Malone's voice was loud and sharp.

John roused straight up in his chair, his hair slightly touseled. He smoothed his tie on auto-pilot, and shot a quick glance toward George before looking into Bailey's face.

"Go home. You're crumbling all your work."

John stood, and nodded. "Yeah. See you guys tomorrow." He reached for his jacket and slipped into it, moving toward the door. He stopped behind George and leaned down.

"I think we've all earned an afternoon off, George. Tell him you're out of here, too."

George leaned his head back and looked up into John's face. God, the man was so damned handsome! It made him wonder what his chat-partner was like. Well, he could imagine him any way that he wanted. I guess he looks just like John, George decided.

"I'm okay, really. Thanks for the thought, though." John patted his arm and continued out of the room.

"A problem, George?" Malone inquired.

"No. Just chatting." There was that word again!

George settled to the tasks before him, glad that Bailey wasn't quite as hard on him as he always was on John, for whatever reason. Poor guy really did need a rest...

George knew that he'd be going home after dark, to an unlit room. Then he'd grab something unremarkable to eat, maybe while half-listening to the tv in the background. Then...

When finally in bed, he'd think back to his happy Chats, and reach his hand reluctantly down to aid his fantasty. Thank God for clever fingers, he thought with a small smile.



END PART 3