OMGWUT. How have I only seen three of these pictures before? HEY REMEMBER THAT TIME THEY FLIRTED FOR LIKE, SIX WHOLE SEASONS AND NOTHING CAME OF IT SPENT SIX WHOLE SEASONS CRAZY RABBIT-FUCKING BEHIND THE SCENES? I LOVE THEMMMMMM OMG. I was never particularly fannish about the X-Files and I guess somehow I forgot how much I loved them? AND NOW IT IS ALL COMING BACK TO ME. CAPSLOCKCAPSLOCKCAPSLOCK. Did you know there is an X-Files bigbang? I only discovered this recently! Also I approve of this X-Files AU! It would start something like this, amirite?
As far as he can tell, Arthur (Dr. Pendragon to FBI agents and other subordinate life-forms) has two options: he can view this assignment as the borderline-demotion it probably is, or the opportunity for advancement that he knows he can make it. It would be easy to be pessimistic about this; four years of medical school, and three year residency in pathology (OR WHATEVER, LIKE I CARE WHAT KIND OF DOCTOR HE IS) at MassGeneral, and now he's here, in the basement, about to meet his partner, the eccentric (translation, if rumours are to be believed: batshit crazy, education-and-life-squandering) Merlin Emrys, graduate of Princeton and Oxford, specialist in (oh God) paranormal activity. It's not perfect, but Arthur is nothing if not a pragmatist; you don't spend eleven years on your education if you don't think you're damn well going to get something out of it, and he knows he can damn well get something out of this too. This is: until he meets the agent in question. Well, he meets the mess first, and the agent shortly after, and thirdly, the poster on the wall that declares (almost as if he's fucking proud of it, the psychopath - not that Arthur believes in misusing medical terms, even archaic ones; he genuinely thinks this might be the case here) that the owner of the poster "wants to believe" in fucking aliens. Or flying saucers, whatever. "Admiring my poster?" asks Emrys. He glares. "Hardly. But I must admit, I'm glad to know what you want out of the FBI: to believe in aliens? Really? And I'm sure you know what I want, so we can just agree to not get in each other's ways and this will work out fine." It's sort of insensitive, considering Emrys's sister's unsolved disappearance, but Emrys just leans against his desk with an infuriating smirk and says, "Haven't you heard the rumours? I already do." "I don't listen to rumours," says Arthur.
no subject
FLIRTED FOR LIKE, SIX WHOLE SEASONS AND NOTHING CAME OF ITSPENT SIX WHOLE SEASONS CRAZY RABBIT-FUCKING BEHIND THE SCENES? I LOVE THEMMMMMM OMG. I was never particularly fannish about the X-Files and I guess somehow I forgot how much I loved them? AND NOW IT IS ALL COMING BACK TO ME. CAPSLOCKCAPSLOCKCAPSLOCK. Did you know there is an X-Files bigbang? I only discovered this recently!Also I approve of this X-Files AU!
It would start something like this, amirite?
As far as he can tell, Arthur (Dr. Pendragon to FBI agents and other subordinate life-forms) has two options: he can view this assignment as the borderline-demotion it probably is, or the opportunity for advancement that he knows he can make it. It would be easy to be pessimistic about this; four years of medical school, and three year residency in pathology (OR WHATEVER, LIKE I CARE WHAT KIND OF DOCTOR HE IS) at MassGeneral, and now he's here, in the basement, about to meet his partner, the eccentric (translation, if rumours are to be believed: batshit crazy, education-and-life-squandering) Merlin Emrys, graduate of Princeton and Oxford, specialist in (oh God) paranormal activity.
It's not perfect, but Arthur is nothing if not a pragmatist; you don't spend eleven years on your education if you don't think you're damn well going to get something out of it, and he knows he can damn well get something out of this too.
This is: until he meets the agent in question. Well, he meets the mess first, and the agent shortly after, and thirdly, the poster on the wall that declares (almost as if he's fucking proud of it, the psychopath - not that Arthur believes in misusing medical terms, even archaic ones; he genuinely thinks this might be the case here) that the owner of the poster "wants to believe" in fucking aliens. Or flying saucers, whatever.
"Admiring my poster?" asks Emrys.
He glares. "Hardly. But I must admit, I'm glad to know what you want out of the FBI: to believe in aliens? Really? And I'm sure you know what I want, so we can just agree to not get in each other's ways and this will work out fine."
It's sort of insensitive, considering Emrys's sister's unsolved disappearance, but Emrys just leans against his desk with an infuriating smirk and says, "Haven't you heard the rumours? I already do."
"I don't listen to rumours," says Arthur.
OMG I AM SORRY, I TALK TOO MUCH. D: