Rated: Adult
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was bored. Bored, bored, bored ..Bored with a capital B.
My latest target had been felled by the wrath of God before he could experience the warmth of a heart to heart with yours truly; the dumbass had been struck by lightening on a golf course a week ago and several more empty weeks yawned before the next job. Nothing new had come up to fill in.
Maybe because of the heat, 100 degrees and humid as hell. Even conspirators want a vacation sometimes and I guess my clients were out of town on their yachts and so forth. Y see my lifestyle isn't geared to inaction, I'm off to a different destination almost every week; a break-in here, an assassination there; even the monotony of surveillance didn't bore me like this. And of course, with a life like mine, you don't get a chance to make new friends (except in the line of business, and they re reluctant to socialise after you've betrayed them) and old friends are either to be avoided or dead.
So there was no one to hang out with: I was reduced to redecorating my latest apartment during the daytime with an occasional foray downtown to scout round the private galleries. I was hoping to pick up a couple of new pictures for my freshly painted walls, I'm not short of money and I like modern art, and it's kinda fun to see if the critics pick up on the artists I've chosen.
Well that was office hours, but evenings and nights I had a hobby; Mulder-watching. Lurking outside his apartment, following when he went out, like some flaky twitcher crouched behind a bush with his binoculars observing the habits and behaviour of the Lesser-spotted green-winged crossbeaked pine-warbler. Go on, pity me, I know it's adolescent, I know it's sad, I know I should get over it, but Mulder's been my obsession since I first laid eyes on him.
Y know, I could take that birdwatching analogy further. Like the dedicated scientist, I knew Mulder's daily routine, his feeding and grooming habits, his height and weight, I'd inspected his nest (many times), the extent of his territory, his reaction to threats (same and alien species) God help me, I've even seen his excrement! I could write a thesis on Home Sapiens (subspecies Fox Mulder).
Information was lacking in one important area, however. At least ornithologists get to study their specimen's sexual behaviour. Now, unless you count Mulder's love affair with his hand and his eclectic collection of porn videos, I hadn't observed the Mulder-bird's mating ritual at all. Oh, he's a master of the smutty remark, the double entendre, and I know he's had lovers in the past (sadly all female), but recently nada. It's a shame, because even though memories of his expressions as he jerks off on his couch are useful props for my Fox-fuck fantasies, I'd have expected my diligent voyeurism over the years to have yielded better fruit.
So this night I was watching his door as usual when he got back from work. It was about 6.30pm I suppose, and still sweltering. Mulder was in his shirtsleeves when he got out of his car and even from across the street I could see he looked limp, despite the air-conditioning. No run tonight, then. He d probably go out in the early morning, when it was cooler. Up to his apartment, and a few minutes later I saw him pass the window. Another half-an-hour passes and the pizza van arrives; I know all the pizza places he uses, the Chinese too. A nasty thought sprang into my head, Don't you think you ought to give this up and get a life, Alex?
But I know I can't, not now, not yet anyway, not while my face flushes and my breathing quickens when I think of the times I've spied on him naked in his home; not while I feel faint and get butterflies in my stomach if I'm in his presence; not while I nearly come in my pants if he touches me, if he hits me. I'm hopelessly infatuated, and despite the history between us, which he'll never forgive or forget and which my actions will probably worsen as time goes on, I illogically hope that he'll be affected by a magical love potion, and fall into my arms. Hey, how much of a loser can I be?
About 8 he came out again and drove off. I followed him carefully, I don't think he ever realised how often I was tailing him. We arrived at the building where Mulder's three geeky friends live and I expected that if he wasn't out within a few minutes, I'd be here for quite a few hours, maybe overnight. If I were to be truthful with myself, I'd have to admit that despite his physical charms, Mulder was a geek too: but, you know, his obsessions, his arcane knowledge, even his nave desire to believe in the most obvious of shams just make him more endearing to me.
So he and his buddies would probably be sticking UFO reports into their scrap-books, or searching the net for alien conspiracies or maybe just playing Scrabble until the early hours. I didn't know, because the Gunmen's hideout was one place I'd never managed to penetrate. If there was a prize for paranoia, those three would walk off with it. The place is one big booby-trap, it bristles with spy cameras, listening devices, pressure pads, trembler'switches - it would be easier to smuggle a blue whale into the White House than pay them a surprise visit.
There was no sign of Mulder after 20 minutes, so I knew that I'd be sitting here for hours. It was pointless to wait, really. Mulder would be safer there than almost anyplace else and I was wasting time hoping for a glimpse of him. Fuck it, I thought, it's been months since I've done anything but work, or if I go out, sit and drink alone in a bar. I'm squandering my life wishing for the unobtainable and making myself miserable. I decided to abandon my post, go home and change and visit a club. Then maybe I'd meet someone amusing to talk to and there d be a chance of a night of meaningless but relaxing and distracting sex.
For once, and probably because I'd been bored all week, I decided to act on my impulse. Soon I'd been home and changed into my baggies and a loose T-shirt and was off to Bruce s. Yes, perhaps you've guessed, run by an Ozzie, *very* laid-back, and with the added merit of a roof-top terrace open in the summer.
I admit, I hadn't been there since the previous summer and the clientele had changed somewhat. From being gay-tolerant the emphasis had changed to 75% gay and the atmosphere was distinctly hot, and not just because of the weather. Well, all the better, I thought, for a lonely hit-man on his night off. I perched on a bar-stool and gazed around the meat on offer.
Somehow the barman talked me into trying the "Cocktail of the week". Christ knows what was in it, it was luminous green and bristling with little umbrellas and plastic swizzle sticks shaped like sharks; but it was long and cold and slid easily down my throat, and after I'd imbibed a couple the view across the city lights took on that twinkly, spikey look that you get with a starburst filter on your camera. Pretty. The talent on display was pretty too, and I was just wondering whether to ease myself through the crowd round the bar and go downstairs to check out the dance floor when I felt a warm body press against my back and a familiar voice whispered in my ear,
"Hey, big boy, want me to show you a good time?"
My head whipped round so fast I almost dislocated my neck. I know my jaw must have dropped open with the shock and I managed to utter a totally uninspired "Unnhh" before Mulder put his forefinger gently under my chin and pushed my mouth shut and said
"Come on Alex, you'll be catching bugs in there if you keep on with that guppy impersonation."
I was even more dumbstruck when I saw what he was wearing, in fact my higher cortical functions completely shut down as my brain's blood supply was diverted straight to my prick. Sandy-coloured combat trousers, one of those loose singlet things with the enormous neck and armholes that showed generous amounts of golden Mulder's skin, a tight leather thong round his neck with a little pewter alien head hanging from it, and the ensemble was topped off with spiked up hair, a stud in the top edge of one ear and I swear a touch of eyeliner round those beautiful eyes of his.
I nearly melted off the stool with desire. As my senses returned a whirl of thoughts raced through my head. He was at the Gunmen's, so how come he was here? What was with the outfit? Was he working under cover? This guy was grinning at me, no sign of hostility, it couldn't be Mulder. But it was Mulder. I recovered the power of speech
"Uh, Mulder?"
and suddenly realised I should be searching for my gun, not drooling like a St. Bernard when it hears the rattle of the Doggy-bix packet.
"Mickey," Mulder called to the barman, "get Alex here a beer. That Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster he's been drinking has addled his brain. Get me one too, while you're at it."
He pushed past me to the bar and suddenly I had Mulder's cotton covered ass pressed firmly against my thighs.
"Uh, Mulder" I managed again, though this time it came out as a strangled croak.
He wriggled round and handed me a frosted bottle. Now I had him facing me, close enough to feel his breath. The crush round the bar was so great he'd ended standing between my legs as I sat on the high stool, and I could smell him, musky and slightly sweaty and oh so delicious. Thank goodness for baggies, I thought, there's no way he could miss the state I was in otherwise.
"I'm Fox, Alex. No one has heard of Mulder here. You must call me Fox, too, cos I don't answer to anything else .except perhaps Hey gorgeous where have you been all my life?'"
He raised his eyebrows and took a swig from his bottle, then gave me a big grin.
"C'mon Alex, don't say you're not pleased to see me, cos the Fox is definitely glad to meet you at last" he purred as he ran his hand down my chest, hesitating at my waistband before continuing down and resting it on the top of my thigh. It was suddenly too much.
"What's with you Mulder? What the hell are you on?" I hissed. "And what are you doing here? I haven't seen you here before. And get your goddam hand off my leg."
"Fox is here, Alex, not Mulder. Mulder doesn't visit bars like this, you must know that. He doesn't go clubbing, he calls you Krycek, not Alex, he's never friendly to you, and he definitely doesn't grope beautiful men in public places. *I do* though."
I felt his hand slide down and then up inside the leg of my baggies. I couldn't stop a moan escaping and I was sure a damp spot was forming on the front of my clothes where my cock was leaking. If his hand got any closer I would have come there and then. My potential embarrassment was spared, however when Mulder was grabbed round the waist in a bear-hug and lifted off his feet by a huge blond apparition that would have looked right at home in a Conan the Barbarian' movie.
"You little slut," growled Mr. Universe "five minutes late for our date and already you're hitting on another guy." He began nuzzling the side of Mulder's neck, making him giggle.
"Stoppit, Joe, that tickles! And put me down. Anyway, I got lonely when you weren't here and you know how I hate to be alone Alex, this is Joe -- Joe, Alex." Mulder was set back on his feet but the Incredible
Hulk kept his arms round him, and very sensible too, I thought, he needs restraining if he carries on all the time like he just did with me. My mind did a back-flip; this is Mulder I'm thinking this about, Mr. Reserved, Mr. No-Relationships, Mr. Definitely-not-Flirtatious, Mr. Straight; remember him Alex? Jeez, it was easier to believe in the tooth fairy than the Mulder fairy wriggling sensuously in the arms of Joe-the-giant.
My hand was taken in a crushing grip and shaken vigorously. "Pleased to meet you, Alex. Haven't seen you in here before?"
"No, it's been about a year . I don't get much time for relaxing in my job. A lot of travelling, y'know, and irregular hours."
My attention was wrenched away from the conversation by the sight of Joe's muscly hands working their way inside Mulder's singlet and his thumbs rubbing on his nipples until I could clearly see them standing proud under the thin cloth. He arched his back in pleasure and looked up at Joe, licking his lips lasciviously, his chest rising and falling with deep shuddering breaths. My mouth went very dry and I took a big gulp of my beer.
"You better stop that, baby, you're making Alex blush. And don't forget we're supposed to be going on to a party we're not going to get any further than a nice dark corner downstairs if you don't." Mulder murmured.
"So what do you do for a living, Alex?"
Mulder interrupted Joe before I could think of an innocuous reply, though I suspect with the distraction their floor-show was providing I might even have blurted out the truth.
"He's in the same business as me, aren't you Alex? We've known each other quite a while, we used to work together, but then he had a better offer from a rival so now we're on opposite sides." He quirked an eyebrow at me and shook his head very slightly. So we were keeping secrets from Joe then, were we? Mulder obviously didn't want his cover blown, but if this was all an act, he had certainly thrown himself heart and soul into his part. I smiled back at him and drawled,
"Yeah, yeah. It's like he says, we go way back, but I can't say I've met *Fox* socially before today."
"Hey, I didn't know the IRS had any rivals"
"Oops.. so it was you who got the tax inspector's story," sniggered Mulder, "I couldn't remember whether I'd told you that, or the marketing consultant for linoleum sales one. I so *loathe* talking about my work, Joe, I always say something really dull so people will stop asking."
"Now that's a shame. It really cheered me up to think that when the IRS come to look over my accounts I might get a session over my desk with someone as cute as you" Joe bent his head down and, tilting Mulder's face towards him, put his lips on Mulder's and kissed him. I forgot to breathe as the kiss went on and on; the sight of Mulder getting it on with this mountain of a guy was so hot I could feel my whole body flushing and my head began to swim. I stumbled from the barstool and they broke off their kiss and looked at me.
Joe grabbed my arm to steady me.
"That'll teach you to keep off Mickey's special' cocktails next time you come here" said Mulder, righting the bar-stool. "Anyway we've got to go, got some serious partying to do. Have a nice evening, Alex. Bye" and he pecked me on the cheek, took Joe's hand and had disappeared into the crowd before I could come to my wits. By the time I'd realised they'd gone and started shouldering my way through the exit to follow them there was no sign, no hope of finding the direction they'd gone in. The doormen had seen them leave the club; after all, who could miss Joe, he must have been six-five and had a body like one of those TV wrestlers, but they'd hailed a cab and were streets away by then. I returned to the roof to question Mickey the barman.
Fox' had been a customer for at least 3 years, but Joe was new to him, he told me. Came in about once or twice a month, usually with a different guy, or if he was alone he wasn't when he left. He'd overheard him talking about other clubs, too, but he didn't know which ones. He said if I had an itch for Fox I'd have to get in line, he was pretty popular, and I'd not have to be a shrinking violet because he was totally uninhibited and up for anything. My mind was reeling; this was *not* Mulder, even working undercover this couldn't be the Mulder I'd known for so many years.
I walked out of the club in a daze, found my car and drove home.
The encounter had totally put me off my original purpose, finding someone to take my mind off Mulder for a few hours. How could I fuck someone else now with the vision of his mouth open and eager for that muscle-man's tongue, his skin being caressed by those enormous hands, his lean body made to look delicate and fragile as it rubbed against the wall of hard flesh that was Joe?
My hands were shaking as I unlocked the door of my apartment. I slammed it behind me and dragging my baggies off as I crossed the room, threw myself on the couch and grabbed my dick. I pumped gently, I seemed to have been hard for hours and would come in seconds if I wasn't careful.
Thinking about what I'd seen at the club, I took Mulder and his boyfriend on a few hours on to a bedroom somewhere; not Mulder's, definitely not Mulder's, there was no way I could see Mulder entertaining a guy like Joe in that dismal hole Mulder called home. Anyway, it wouldn't fit with the Fox image, *Fox* would live somewhere trendy, not too expensive though, and the rooms would be bright and full of kitch accessories and new-age paraphernalia. I smiled to myself as I imagined the mood-crystals, the meditation pyramid, the scented candles. Maybe a full range of skin cleansers and revitalising body lotions in the bathroom, jostling for space with the designer towels and potted ferns. It got me wondering whether he actually had a secret bolt-hole, cos *I* sure as hell hadn't seen anyone like Joe visiting No. 42, and I hadn't seen Mulder leaving there dressed in anything outlandish.
In the end I chose a Joe bedroom for my fantasy, because my flights of fancy with a Fox boudoir were making me giggle too much. A large plainly decorated room sprang to mind, with an enormous bed, built-in closets with mirrored doors, a couple of side-tables with lamps on, and, in the corner a rack of weights and a rowing machine. The door opens, and in comes Joe with Mulder wrapped round him like ivy. Mulder's arms are around his neck, his legs wrapped round Joe's waist and Joe's arms are under Mulder's ass for support. They are kissing passionately and Mulder is grinding himself against his lover's hard body. Joe backs up to the bed and flops across it with Mulder on top. Mulder sits up and kneels across Joe's groin, rubbing himself against Joe's hard-on through their clothes. He pulls off his singlet and Joe reaches forward to pinch his nipples. Mulder groans and says,
"Yeah, that's good, do it harder. " He's biting his bottom lip and his eyes are closed. He pushes his hands up under Joe's tight T-shirt and leans forward and rests his weight on Joe's chest.
"Let's get the rest of those clothes off" says Joe, and rolls Mulder off him so he's lying on his back with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He straddles Mulder's legs and unbuttons the combat trousers and pulls them and Mulder's thong (now, Fox wouldn't wear boxers, would he!) right off together. He looks down at the man on the bed, who begins to caress himself sensuously while waiting for Joe to strip. Mulder's body is lean and wiry and his skin is golden-brown. From the sparse down on his chest a narrow dark line of hair descends to merge with the luxuriant pubic curls from which his cock springs, hard and smooth, the tip reddish-purple and glistening. Mulder rubs his hands across his thighs and cups his cock and balls, squeezing gently as he watches his body-builder's glories being revealed.
You can see every flexion and relaxation of the muscles under Joe's skin as he pulls his clothes off. His body has been evenly tanned and, apart from his groin, has been shaved of hair'so that his admirers may better appreciate the effort that has gone into this body. He wouldn't have been my choice, I find such over-development grotesque, but the Mulder of my fantasy doesn't share my taste. He's licking his lips in anticipation, his breathing deepens.
"C mon Joe, I need you now " he gasps. Joe's dick springs out of his shorts. It is a monster, thick and rosy red where the blood shows through Joe's fair skin. Fat veins snake along it, and the tip looks like a ripe plum, dripping in anticipation of burying itself in Mulder's body. Mulder sits up and cradles Joe's enormous balls in his hands as his tongue stretches out and strokes the head of the penis bobbing in front of him. Joe moans and, grabbing Mulder's hair in one hand and his shaft in the other, rubs the tip of his cock over Mulder's face, leaving a shining trail of mucus over his cheeks and chin, before nudging it against Mulder's lips until he opens his mouth and sucks the first few inches in.
Mulder's lips are stretched wide around the thick organ that is invading his mouth, and Joe fucks his face slowly, gradually driving himself deeper into Mulder's throat. Mulder braces himself on Joe's hips, pushing back as Joe's hand on the back of his head urges him to impale himself more deeply on the huge dick.
"Oh, that's good babe, so good" sighs Joe. "But you re going to have to stop cos I want to feel it in that tight little ass. Turn over, babe, and spread yourself for me." He pulls his cock from Mulder's mouth. The shaft keeps coming and coming, even more engorged, and glistening with Mulder's spit, momentarily leaving a gossamer thread connecting it's head to the swollen lips that have just been straining to take it all in.
Mulder gazes up at Joe, his eyes dilated with lust, his breath shuddering. His own penis is leaking and twitching. He rolls over and scoots up the bed and crouches there on his knees, his legs wide apart and his shoulders and face pressed against the mattress, presenting his spread buttocks and asshole to his giant lover. "Fuck me Joe," he whimpers, "I can't wait. I want you to split me open. Please hurry, please "
"Ok, babe, let's just stretch that little hole of yours. I'll be wanting to screw you again later, and I don't want you so sore you can't take me" and he pushes an enormous thumb well coated in lube into Mulder ass. Mulder gasps and his muscles clench as he is penetrated, and his neck snaps back, his eyes are squeezed shut and he's biting that lip again as his mind savours the mixture of pleasure and pain. Joe pulls out his thumb and inserts a couple of fingers, then, as Mulder relaxes round them, a third, rooting around until Mulder gives a shriek as his prostate is rubbed. "Please Joe, I'm ready, *fuck me*, fuck me *hard*" he shouts, and Joe pulls out the fingers and presses the bulb at the end of his prick against the opening.
One beefy hand guiding his prick, the other clamping Mulder's thighs, he forces it inside the tiny hole. The skin around the sphincter is tensioned to nearly breaking and white where the blood has been forced from the tortured flesh. Mulder is groaning from the pain, yet forces his hips up to help the invasion. "Take me," he whispers, "I want you all the way".
"That's what I'm planning on", growls Joe. "Here it comes, open up, boy" and he pushes himself slowly and steadily, inch by inch, into Mulder's body. The shaft seems to go on forever, becoming ever thicker near the root and Mulder's cries turn to exclamations of pleasure as he is stimulated and filled by Joe's member. He rams home the last couple of inches, his hips slapping against Mulder's ass and eliciting a howl from the man pinioned on his huge cock. Joe begins to pump gently, and Mulder's sighs and groans, his ass writhing as he seeks the most pleasurable position.
The thrusts become longer and more brutal as Mulder's sphincter relaxes around the invader, the powerful strokes pushing him toward the head of the bed until Joe grips Mulder's hips and virtually lifts his legs from the mattress, holding his body at a convenient angle to penetrate as deeply as he can. Mulder is helpless in his grasp, his hands convulsively clutch the bedcovers and his face grimaces in almost unbearable ecstasy. Joe is panting and grunting, his steady thrusts becoming more jerky and spasmodic as he nears his climax, and suddenly Mulder's screams and shudders, his anus clenching round Joe's prick as he ejaculates, the forceful grip from his ass muscles taking Joe with him.
The fantasy had brought me right to the edge, and as I imagined Joe's seed pumping into Mulder's body I came hard myself, covering the front of my T-shirt with sticky semen. I slumped back into the cushions of my couch, and overwhelmed by the surprises of the evening, fell asleep.
It was the early hours when I woke and I was sorely tempted to go over to Mulder's place and find out what the hell was going on there and then, but it occurred to me that he could still be somewhere with Joe, and it would probably be better if I gave what I had discovered more thought and try and work out what I was going to say when I next saw Mulder. This would have to be soon though, cos I was burning up with curiosity. Accosting him in the street or bothering him at work wouldn't be a good idea, I'd more than a suspicion that a lengthy face-to-face chat was needed, and I expected that I would have to hold my gun on him to encourage him to open up to me.
As I cleaned myself up in the bathroom and climbed into bed for what remained of the night, reasons for what I'd seen swirled through my brain. Topmost on my list of possibilities was the undercover work idea, but while I could see the Mulder I thought I knew going along with such a task for a week or two, and finding it a laugh, I couldn't imagine him being so dedicated to the FBI that he d be willing to virtually prostitute himself for years, *and* without me finding out about it. Unless it was to do with the X-files, of course. But how does living a life of gay abandon fit in with the X-files? Perhaps Mulder had a theory that his elusive aliens were all queer .he's come up with crazier notions.
Perhaps, as I'd said to him, he was high on something. If he was gay anyway, and just repressing his feelings, some drug might allow him to shed his inhibitions and express his needs. How couldn't I have noticed that he liked men, though? He must've buried it very deeply, and would he be willing to compromise himself by using drugs to indulge his sexuality if he was so repressed? I didn't think he d risk being so out of control. He had a low enough tolerance for alcohol and I'd found him wary of getting drunk, I couldn't imagine him screwing up his mind with more powerful chemicals.
It couldn't be a bet or some practical joke just to wind me up, cos it was a long term thing. So the only other idea that occurred to me was that Mulder was even kookier than I suspected and was like Jekyll and Hyde, a split personality, maybe the Mulder part being unaware of the other's existence.
Tonight I would be waiting at apartment 42. The truth was out there.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
5.30pm saw me ensconced on Mulder's couch, a cup of tea in one hand, a copy of Seamus Heaney's new translation of Beowulf in the other and my gun lying ready on the coffee table. I'd already ransacked the apartment looking for evidence of Fox's presence, but as I expected I found no clue that he even existed; I'd searched the place many times before on various pretexts, there d been nothing to make me wonder then if Mulder had an alternative social life, why should there be anything now, now that I *knew* he did?
As I heard the key scrape in the lock I grabbed my gun and nipped behind the door. He was early home from work as I suspected he might be, no doubt regretting flaunting his secret before me (why had he done it? He could so easily have slipped away in the crowd, I wouldn't have known he d been there.) He d probably been unable to concentrate all day, expecting me to confront him in a car park or a remote corridor of the FBI building as I've done in the past. Now he was home, and he knew that if I wasn't waiting for him I'd be calling soon. I readied my gun. Y'know, in the circles I move in, the approved way of keeping a secret is to eliminate anyone who shouldn't know it, and if Mulder had regrets, he might be considering this option. Yesterday, well yesterday's Mulder wasn't the one I was going to meet. He might have given me a beating but I wouldn't have even considered him killing me, at least not in cold blood. But I didn't know the man coming in the door, so I needed to get my move in first.
The door opened and in he came, pretty much dressed as he d been when I watched him arrive home from work just a day ago. It was almost as much of a shock to see the old Mulder as it had been to see Fox at the club; I found myself staring at him for traces of that other self, a forgotten ear stud maybe, or the hole where it had been, hickeys on his neck from his activities with Joe. He glanced at me, completely unsurprised, then turned and gently closed the door. Dumping his jacket and briefcase, he walked over to the couch, sat down and bent over with his head in his hands and his elbows resting on his knees.
"OK, Krycek," he said, his voice expressionless, "what's the price? Or have you already told your employers my sordid secret, and this is purely a courtesy call to inform me that my future may not be quite as I planned it"
It hadn't crossed my mind to blackmail him over this. *Right*, you re thinking, Alex Krycek, Rat Extraordinaire , passing up a golden opportunity to get a hold over Mulder. Of course, as soon as he put it into my mind I could see the possibilities, but up to then I'd been confounded by what I'd discovered, and my only coherent thought had been that maybe I had hope and I wouldn't need that magical love potion after all.
"Why the fuck did you speak to me then, *Fox*, if you didn't want to face the consequences?" I sneered at him.
He flinched and looked up at me sadly.
"Don't call me Fox. I'm Mulder. Fox spoke to you, Fox betrayed me, he wouldn't listen, I couldn't stop him."
"Jesus Christ, you re not going to tell me that you've got a twin brother, with the same name as you, that you've been concealing in your *closet* all these years? Or maybe it was a green blooded alien Mulder clone that was coming on to me last night, with its hand right up my pant's leg? C mon Mulder, if I hadn't been rescued by Mr Muscles you would have been sucking my dick right there at the bar within five minutes."
He shook his head. "It wasn't me, I told you, it was Fox." He spoke the words slowly and clearly, as a patient parent would to a child who was refusing to understand an obvious fact. "*I* don't do that. *Fox* was with you, Fox wanted to touch you, and, yeah, give you a blowjob if there d been a chance. But he's not Mulder, and I c-couldn't stop him" Mulder's voice broke and I swear he was going to cry. He looked so forlorn I wanted to hug him and tell him not to worry, Uncle Alex will make it all right. But I didn't I'm not *renowned* for my altruism and I didn't want Mulder even more confused than apparently he was already.
Well, there goes the undercover cop theory, I thought. Let's put our money on Mulder being a complete fruitcake shall we?
He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. The guy can be so gross sometimes, well, the state of his bathroom is evidence of that. He took a deep breath and said, as if he d read my mind,
"I'm not quite ready for the funny farm, Krycek. In fact you could put the gun away, I won't start foaming at the mouth and biting your ankles. I *really* don't want to talk about this, so can you just accept that the Fox is *another me*, an alter ego that crawls out of his hole occasionally and takes over my body. I have all his memories, he has mine; I'm not so divorced from reality that I'm going to deny he exists. OK. Now can we get to the nitty-gritty and talk about what you re going to do with your new-found discovery? I never thought I'd be willing to say this to you, and I have limits, but as you found out yesterday they re probably more relaxed than you thought. So what do you want from me; what's it going to cost me for your silence? Or am I too late?"
I looked him in the eyes and smiled. "You re not too late Mulder, I haven't told a soul, hence the insurance." I gestured with the gun. "I thought you might be regretting letting me in on your secret, and you might've decided to repair the damage by a bit of rat extermination. And, well, my price is negotiable, because, to be honest, while I'm not going to pass up this juicy morsel, I'm not sure what to do with it. Maybe a bit more research is required, a little more frankness on your part."
He got off his couch and stood in front of me, his body tense, his mouth grim, but his voice was back to its normal even tone when he said
"I'm not discussing my behaviour with you, Krycek. I don't owe scum like you any explanations, any excuses. I've got myself into a situation where I'm forced to bribe you to let me get on with my life, so make up your mind what you want. I warn you, if it's something I find intolerable, I'll kill myself rather than face people knowing the truth."
"You dumb shit, you forced this on me, you knew what would happen" I yelled at him. I hauled him over to me by the front of his shirt and pushed my gun up under his jaw. His body was hot against mine, his heart beating wildly. "Maybe you d like me to sort it right away. I could kill you and your problems would be solved .or you could try and kill me . hmm? Then it d all be tidy again."
"I told you" he whispered fiercely, "didn't you hear me? It was Fox. Him. Not me. I never wanted you to know, but he's been nagging me for years to meet you. I've stopped him seeking you out, but last night your paths crossed accidentally and there was no way I could stop him. And now you know, and I can't take the knowledge away, and I can't kill you because *he* won't let me. He'll let me hurt you the sight of your skin, bruised and bloody, excites him. But I can't kill you. So, rat-bastard, you re safe to practice your extortion skills. Call me when you want to discuss terms. Now let go of me."
I released his shirt and stood back. "All right Mulder, a little something on account will do for now. You can let me have the balance later. I want Fox, I want to talk to him, find out what's going on in that sick brain of yours. You may not want to *share* but he seemed *very* keen to establish a rapport. Give him to me for an evening and maybe I can work out what I want."
Mulder lifted an eyebrow and gave a knowing leer. "Yeah, well even *I* can work out what you want if that's part of your price. It must have been obvious to you that Fox's interests are mainly in non-verbal communication not chit-chat. Have you got the hots for me, Ratboy? You want to fuck my body like you've fucked with my life?" I could feel myself blushing and glanced away. "Well, well .and I thought your interest in me was purely professional. I didn't realise you were getting your rocks off by making me suffer and screwing up my work."
I forced myself to look back into his eyes and say, "Don't flatter yourself, Mulder. Just think how I'm going to enjoy seeing you squirm with embarrassment, with humiliation, after I've let Foxy-baby play his games with me. You'll have no dignity left by the time he's sated himself on Alex Krycek. What does he like best, hmm? Is the vanilla stuff good enough or has the strangle-hold you've got on your warped emotions perverted his tastes to balance the scales? I could see he's not shy about public performances, and if he wants me, he thinks it'll be rough."
I stepped forward, pressing my gun to his temple to hold him in position, then ran my hand across his cheek and mouth, pausing to trace his lips with my fingers. Throughout the whole of our encounter I'd been hard, desperate to drag him to me and grind my throbbing groin into his. I wanted him to know how I adored him, but there wasn't a way to tell him that here, now. I thought if I could delve into Fox's motivations, get close to him, then, maybe, there would be some way of building a different relationship with Mulder. But I couldn't show any weakness, I was afraid he d back off if I didn't turn my proposal into a dare. Mulder is petrified of allowing others close to him, but he dives into physical danger without a second thought. He had to believe it was a thug that wanted Fox, a criminal with no sensibilities and no morals, so that he wouldn't stop to analyse my motives. So instead of declaring my love I licked my lips and murmured lewdly,
"Does he liked to be spanked or I could tie him up and use my belt on that beautiful little butt instead. Make it all hot and sore so that later, when he's gone, you'll have to think of me when you sit on that hard office chair of yours. And then when I've had my fill and he's lying on the floor, bruised from his beating and sticky with my semen, I'll piss on him. I bet he d love that, Mulder, he d roll around in it and rub it into his skin. He'll be on his knees holding his face into that hot stream, it d be dripping off his hair and running into his eager mouth. Would that turn him on, Mulder? Would that make him come?"
Mulder's eyes were wide with shock, and he had turned quite pale. Shaking his head he tried to back away from me, but I wound my hand in his tie and dragged him back. "You re a sick, sick cunt Krycek. You're filth. Get out of here .get away from me." he rasped. Gotcha! I thought. Let's wind you up a bit more, Agent Mulder.
"I've got a lovely little knife, too. Sharp pointed clean as a scalpel. Does he like the sight of your blood Mulder? A few little cuts in that silky skin Fox was showing off in the club yesterday and we could watch it dripping down his body. I could lick it off as I fuck him. I could carve my name in his chest, leave some pretty scars, and then you d belong to me too, you would be marked as mine as well. He d like that, wouldn't he Mulder? He said he'd been waiting a long time to meet me; the little faggot wants to take it any way I want to give it to him, he wants to be abused and he wants you to be left with the pain and the humiliation while he gets the fun. Are you going to let him, Mulder? Are you going to give him to me?"
"You disgust me, Krycek, you and your twisted fantasies," he spat at me, struggling to pull his tie from my grasp. Suddenly he went completely still and started gasping for air through his mouth. Then, in a different tone, putting his hands on my chest and pushing hard, "Quick! Let me go let me go dammit ..I'm gonna puke"
I'd seen Mulder do that before, under stress. I dropped his tie like a hot coal and leapt back from him as he made a dash for the toilet, but he d only got halfway across the room before it caught him and his stomach ejected its contents onto the lounge floor. The foul stench and sounds of Mulder's heaving followed me into the kitchen where I gathered up a glass of water and a dampened towel to clean him up. When I returned Mulder was on his hands and knees over the mess, panting like a dog, a string of drool dangling from his mouth, and as I touched his shoulder I could feel him trembling. "Sit up" I said, pulling back on him, and I offered him the cloth. He sat back on his heels and took it from me, wiped his face and reached for the water. After a couple of sips he spoke, his voice low and quivery,
"You can have him, Krycek, you can have him and you can keep him. You re what he deserves. Use him however you want, just keep the fuck away from me. And if you leave any permanent marks on him, I swear I'll cut your balls off. This is between you and him, I don't want any reminders of you filthy hands on this body."
"When?"
"Two weeks."
"Two weeks? I think tomorrow would suit me better, Mulder."
"You don't understand yet, do you?" His voice was becoming more ragged and when he looked up at me there were tears on his cheeks. "I can't choose to be him, it builds and builds in me until I can't hold him in any more. Sometimes I can keep him in check longer, but usually after two weeks he's ready to take over. It literally can't happen before then. At that club, two weeks from today, 9pm."
Wow, I was thinking, he is one seriously disturbed guy. Do I really want to get tangled up in Mulder's psychoses? And, more to the point, he's the psychologist, he must know how screwed-up he is, he must know he needs help. But, y know, I'd found a seriously big chink in his armour, and I wanted to wriggle right inside there with him. This was no time for sentimentality or pity, not when I had the physical embodiment of Mulder's libido at my beck and call in the shape of Fox. Jeez, I wasn't just pandering to his delusions; he almost had *me* thinking of himself as two people now. I looked down at him, still on his knees, his shoulders shaking as he wept silently into his hands, the picture of defeat. I put my hand down to his head and gently stroked the dishevelled hair. He didn't flinch away.
"OK. Two weeks."
I collected my book and my gun and let myself out.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
It was a damn good thing that there was a message waiting on my e-mail that evening with details of a job that needed doing immediately. Chasing round California after a guy that had been supposed to be laundering some money for my client, but had decided instead on an impromptu vacation using the funds, kept my mind off Mulder most of the time. But I would wake up in the night and be unable to sleep again, brooding about what I had said to him. I was torn between the guilt I felt by driving Mulder to tears with my cruel and crude suggestions for Fox's entertainment, and the fact that I got so horny thinking about really doing some of them to Fox, when, to be frank, my feelings for Mulder were of a nauseatingly romantic (not to say soppy) variety.
How could I reconcile wanting to debase Fox and cherish Mulder? They were the same person, I had to remember that, no matter how much Mulder denied it. My attitude to one part of him would influence how the other part felt about me. My emotions swung from lust to love, from fantasies of strewing his path with rose-petals to ever more inventive uses of ropes, clamps and gags. It was enough to drive a man to drink. However the oblivion wasn't worth the hangovers, and the brevity of the relief I got taking out my frustrations on a hapless rent-boy didn't justify having to scramble out of Carmel in such a hurry after I'd tossed his battered (but still breathing) body out of my car at the local hospital's front door.
I was home with a couple of days to spare, with only a few bruises and scrapes, the missing money and a severed hand in a cool-box. The client had wanted to verify I'd got the guy he d said fingerprints would do for proof.
As the evening of my date with Fox approached I became more and more jumpy. Waiting doesn't agree with me anyway, and here I was as nervous as a teenager going out with his first girl-friend. It took me hours to decide what to wear, by the time I left the whole contents of my wardrobe were strewn around the bedroom. It would have been reassuring to wear my favourite jeans and old leather jacket, but the weather was even hotter than it had been a fortnight ago, so I settled for a pair of light loose pants, and a RATM T-shirt that until recently had belonged to my playmate from Carmel. Stowing essential hardware in my pockets, I grabbed my keys and headed for Bruce s.
I arrived with a few minutes to spare and took a seat at the bar. Discretion being the better part of valour, I resisted Mickey's latest concoction and settled back with a beer to wait for Fox. An hour later I was on my fourth, and still no date. Y know, standing up Alex Krycek is not recommended if you want to live a long and healthy life, and I was seething with rage by the time I left the club and cursing myself for not insisting I collect him from his apartment to stop him chickening out.
The windows of Mulder's place were dark when I arrived and it was then I had a sickening thought. Maybe I'd been the last straw, maybe Mulder couldn't face Fox meeting me, maybe the only way to stop him was to stop himself .to kill himself. My skin went cold and I thought I was going to faint. He d been so overwrought when I left him two weeks before; he might have done it then
I dashed out of the car and up to number 42. For once, I knocked, but there was no answer, and my fingers were shaking so much it took me a couple of minutes instead of seconds to pick his door lock. Inside it was silent and dim, the only light a restful green glow from the fishtank. There was no smell of rotting Mulder, and none, thank God, of vomit, though when I flicked on the lights the floor where the mess had been was several shades lighter then the area around it. Dammit, Mulder, I thought, you could have washed the whole thing while you were at it, it can't have been scrubbed for years.
A quick look in the rest of the rooms confirmed that there weren't any corpses of attractive FBI agents to be found, and I slumped down on the sofa with a sigh of relief. It was then that I noticed the slip of yellow paper stuck to the TV screen. I peeled it off. Sure enough, it was for me.
"Called away for work. Back Thursday morning latest. Be outside here Thursday 10pm. or leave a contact number"
Damn. I hadn't remembered he might need to get in touch. I'm so much in the habit of hiding, I'm not used to handing out my phone number. I wasn't about to leave it for anyone to find in Mulder's empty apartment either, so I scrabbled round on his desk till I found a highlighter, scrawled OK in large letters on his note and stuck it back to the TV. Before I left I fed his fish. Y know, I reckon it's only the softheartedness of people who break into Mulder's apartment that keeps the little buggers alive.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Thursday came, and the weather broke. The thunder roared and crashed and constant flashes of lightening strobed the wet streets, illuminating the heavy raindrops that bounced and splashed on the road outside Mulder's apartment block. No dithering over my outfit tonight the leather jacket was back. Hey, a heavy coat's a darn sight more useful than any number of pockets when you've got weapons to hide.
On the dot of ten a tall figure in a long raincoat and umbrella emerged from the door of the block. I switched on the car lights and he dashed over and jumped inside, tossing his umbrella on the rear seat.
"Watch the upholstery, Mulder, this car's only on loan."
He paused in his struggle to wriggle out of the raincoat, and turned and looked at me, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
"Sorry .*Fox*"
"Right. Try to remember, please, Alex. You don't want to ruin a beautiful friendship before it's had a chance to begin by calling me insulting names." The sodden raincoat joined its partner in the back. "Anyway, for on loan don't you mean stolen . What's your worry if the seat's wet?"
I shrugged. "Silly me not my problem is it? You'll be on the *bottom*."
His face creased up and he began to snigger. I snapped on the interior light to take a look at my companion for the night. Gone was the FBI agent with his business suit, his neat hair and his serious pale face. The creature beside me wore a faded black T-shirt, ragged where the sleeves had been ripped out, a pair of extremely tight black leather pants and heavy boots that sported far more buckles than was decent. The spiky hair was back, along with tiny dagger-like ornaments through his earlobes and a generous brush of black around his eyes giving him a gaunt and feral look.
He had demonstrated his tastes ran on similar lines to my own by completing the ensemble with a leather bondage cuff on each wrist and a narrow studded collar round his neck from which a tiny metal tag dangled. A sturdy silver chain hung round his neck as well. Christ, however am I going to keep him glued together as one person in my mind? I thought. However long has this split being going on for? His whole body language is different it's not just his clothes, his attitude.
"Well, Alex, d you like what you see? Look, I even wore a label so you won't forget who I am." He jingled the tag on his collar at me and as I leant forward to take a look I felt his warm tongue caress my ear, a hard *something* catching in the folds as it stroked. I jumped back as if he d given me an electric shock and he began to laugh in earnest. "Stick out your tongue" I demanded. As I suspected a tiny metal stud was embedded in the flesh. "How many fucking holes have you got in your fucking body? Are there any bits that aren't pierced?"
"Not many. Wanna look?" he said, grinning at me and fumbling with the fastenings of his flies.
I gulped. "Not right now, thanks" I hurriedly replied and tried to grab the hand that was busily undoing buttons. Before I could blink he d got his hand on top and my palm was pressed firmly against the warm, hard, leather-covered bulge between his wantonly spread legs. "Oooh Alex," he crooned, "see what you do to me."
"I bet you say that to all the boys" I said dryly, snatching my hand back.
"True." He cocked his eyebrow at me. "Shall we be off?"
I started the car and set off down the road.
"Where are we going?"
"The Pit. After your cosy tete a tete with Mulder it seemed like the appropriate place to go to start our *session* together."
The Pit is a fetish club in a rather seedy part of town. I'd been there once or twice; it's dark and rambling and equipped with convenient frames, cages and other paraphernalia for use by customers who like to make public displays of their kinks. Just about anything goes as long as all the parties taking part are agreeable, and there's no damage to the premises. The booze is cheap, the clientele ranges in age from 18 to 102 (I was once told this was their oldest member) and covers all sexes (definitely more than your standard two.) The police tend to leave it alone cos they re pretty picky about letting in under-agers, and they discourage drugs. They were sued once by a guy who was too stoned to notice that someone had used a branding iron on him cost the club a fortune in plastic surgeon's fees.
"You re a member then? It's never come up in any of the files on you."
"Oh come on, Alex, you don't think Mulder would let *me* join anything under our real name, do you? I've had several false identities at various times, and it's been a piece of cake since I've known the Gunmen."
I goggled at him, causing him to warn me to watch my driving. "The Gunmen know about you?" My voice came out as an embarrassing high-pitched squeak. I felt his hand grip my thigh and gently squeeze, and he said in a low breathy voice "Don't worry darling, they don't know a thing, they aren't your rivals for my affection."
He let his hand run firmly up and down my leg, and, struggling to keep my mind on the road and away from the uncomfortable tightness of my clothing, I asked,
"So what do they think you re up to? Don't they want to know why you need false credentials?"
"Oh, you know them, they see danger and conspiracy round every corner."
"So does someone else not a million miles from here!"
"Yeah, right. Well it's his job to worry and mine to have fun. Anyway, Mulder only has to drop a few hints about traitors in the FBI, nervous informants and UFO's and they come up with the goods. They re how Mulder manages to become me, too. He's seen you tailing him sometimes, but you d never seen me until Bruce s, had you?"
I shook my head. Fox's attentions to that thigh were causing me to lose the power of speech. "I keep my stuff there I've got a room, no more than a large closet really, at the far end of their building. They think it's full of evidence and dangerous alien artefacts, I've let their imaginations run riot and they re too scared, and I s'pose too respectful of Mulder, to pry. We sorted a route connecting old service tunnels, empty buildings and so on for me to get in and out unnoticed. It has to be modified sometimes if one of the buildings gets a tenant, but at the moment it comes out a block down and nearly two buildings over from their front door. I insisted on no cameras around my area, so they retaliated with extra locks." He jingled a bunch of keys in my face that an Alcatraz gaoler would have been proud of.
I cleared my throat and said,
"How come you re telling me all this? Mulder wouldn't give me any personal information voluntarily for fear of what I'd do with it."
"He shouldn't have let me loose with you if he didn't want me to blab. He's the one with issues here, not me. I don't give a gnat's fart if he thinks you re a traitor, a spy, the guy that killed his father or even the guy that shot JFK. My goals, my raison d'tre, they re different from his."
"Hey, I wasn't even born yet when Kennedy was assassinated."
"*That* wouldn't stop him from suspecting you." he replied cryptically.
The rain was still belting down when we reached the club, and Fox insisted we share his umbrella to make a dash for the porch. There's usually a small crowd outside of people coming and going, waiting for friends and so on, but the weather was so foul even the bouncers had taken refuge just inside the doors and we had it to ourselves.
He stuffed the thin wallet he had retrieved from his coat into his back pocket with some difficulty. There really wasn't room for anything but Fox inside those pants, they could have been painted on. He handed me his membership card to look after while he fiddled with something at his neck, then, taking it back, he passed me a thin leather strap instead. "Hold tight" he said, "you wouldn't want to loose me. It can be pretty crowded in there and I don't always come back when my master whistles." By this time he was grinning widely at the expression on my face as I realised, with horror, that I was holding onto one end of a leash. Fox had attached the other end to the chain round his neck, not an ornament, as I now saw, but one of those choke chains that you use to curb impatient dogs.
"I can't do this," I exclaimed "What the *hell* are you thinking of, Mulder?"
"If Mulder were here it d be round your neck and he d be doing his damnedest to throttle you with it" he answered tartly. "I'm just trying to make sure Mulder's side of the bargain is kept. He gave me to you ..but you've got to keep me on a short leash if you want me to stay with you. When he said we deserve each other he meant that I can be as much of a lying, cheating, manipulating cocksucker as you, sweet Alex. And I like to fuck and there'll be no shortage of offers in here. So if you want me to stay around so you can use me like you promised, you d better hang onto that strap."
"You little whore" I growled, giving the leash a sharp pull so he stumbled toward me, "You do what I say tonight or Mulder will face the consequences."
"Make me" he managed to rasp out through his constricted windpipe, his lip curling in a sneer. Y'know I just don't think sometimes, and this time I walked right into it. I backhanded him across the face and he flopped to his knees in front of me. Loosening the chain round his neck, he turned his face up, and his bloodied mouth lifted into a dreamy smile. His eyes were black with desire and his voice shaking with passion as he groaned "Oh yeah lover, that's so good, you never hit him, never fight back. Make me your victim, babe. I'll take it any way you want to give it, just like you said."
I felt like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. The simmering lust that had been clouding my judgement cleared and I began to get an inkling of what was going on. Consciously or not, Mulder had set up a trap for me by letting me meet Fox. We weren't here because Fox needed a good reaming, or because Mulder was scared of exposure. I was starting to wonder if I was a punishment, the fate Mulder had earned for his failure to keep Fox subdued; he d convinced himself he was worthless and so he d given himself as a plaything to his most despised enemy.
I'd be useless for his purpose if he knew that I loved him, that I was knotted with guilt for having made him bleed. He d turn his back on me and find someone else to make him suffer. Somehow I had to play along enough to keep him by my side without becoming irrevocably linked in his mind with the Fox part of him. Some might say he d be even more degraded by being the object of my love, I thought wryly. A sudden vision of Wayne and Garth chanting "We are not worthy" flashed into my mind. I smiled to myself and my mood lightened. Maybe *I* wasn't worthy, but this time my intentions were, even if my methods were dubious.
I took his arm and pulled him to his feet, and carefully wiped the blood from his face with my handkerchief. "Come on, you re asking for dessert before we've even started our meal. You might be happy to be arrested for lewd behaviour in public, but us spies have a certain anonymity to preserve. OK, if you want to be my bitch this evening, I'll play along" and I gave his leash a little tug, "but don't provoke me. I don't want the Canine Defense League down on my head."
Inside the club was dim and noisy. The heavy throb of Rammstein's Bestrafe Mich could be heard intermittently as the soundproofed doors of the dance area swung to and fro. Appropriate, I thought, glancing at Fox's face where a livid bruise was beginning to form. However in this company injuries could be considered a designer accessory and didn't excite comment. In fact I was the one who stood out in my plain jacket and jeans, amongst the rubber-clad French Maids , the bondage clothing and the androgynous guys in tightly laced corsets and stockings.
We got some beers, and headed for a table by the dance floor. Fox was obviously a regular visitor to this place, because he exchanged nods and smiles with several groups of people on the way, though they seemed surprised by the leash, judging by the lifted eyebrows and speculative glances at myself. A live group began to play, mostly death metal and industrial rock. The music was far too loud for any conversation, so we sat silently watching the uninhibited gyrations of the tightly packed crowd for a while until he twitched the leash from my grasp, took my hand and plunged us both into the thick of them.
I was immediately surrounded by a blanket of seminaked sweaty flesh, surging and heaving with the activities of the bodies in the mosh-pit. For a while I was lost in the hypnotic and ear-splitting rhythm, the bass notes vibrating through my body, until the music slowed and became more melodic and suddenly Fox was back at my side.
For a short time he just stared at me, and the music and the other dancers receded from my consciousness until he and I seemed to be alone in a vast echoey space. Then he smiled gently and my mouth went dry and I began to shiver; I felt as if I should run for my life, for my soul, run as fast as I could away from this man who had unknowingly owned me for so long. He reached out, and cupped my face in his hands, and drew me towards him. I was shaking like a leaf, I couldn't breathe, and all I could think as I watched his beautiful mouth approach me was that I was dreaming, it wouldn't happen, I would wake up unfulfilled as I had on so many lonely mornings. But this time the alarm clock didn't ring, the mouth found mine and Mulder's tongue brushed my past my lips and battered against my teeth until I submitted to his will and found myself penetrated, invaded, conquered.
On and on went that kiss, our lips caressing as our arms drew us together and we slowly swayed with the music. It was the song finishing that brought us back to reality and as the kiss ended he lay his head on my shoulder and I blew gently into his ear and explored his lobe and its vicious little ornament with my tongue. "What's the matter, you re shivering" murmured Fox.
I was so overwhelmed I replied without thinking, "I'm scared stiff. I've wanted this for so long, wanted *you* for so long, it feels like I've wanted that kiss for my whole life, Mulder." I felt him stiffen in my arms and, pulling away from me, he snarled "*Not* Mulder", and he was suddenly pushing past the dancers to get away. Fuck, what have I just said, I thought. Could I have said anything *more* stupid?
I reached out and snagged the leash that he had looped loosely round his neck while we were dancing, bringing him to a choking halt. Then I set off for one of the side-rooms without a backwards glance, keeping a firm hold on the strap, and letting Fox follow as best he could to avoid being strangled. By the time we d forced our way out of the crowd and away from the loudest area of the floor Fox was staggering and wheezing, pulling back on the leash with one hand so that he could release the tension enough to insinuate his fingers between his skin and the chain that had been embedded in the muscle of his neck. People watched with amusement as, coming to a clearer space, I gave the lead an extra tug, and catching Fox off balance, sent him sprawling, face down, at my feet.
The guy was messing so much with my head, sending my emotions on a sickening fairground ride, I was appalled and terrified by my helplessness in the face of this new intimacy with him. The mixed feelings, as usual with me, were expressed by violence. I walked up to him and kicked him hard a couple of times in the belly. He tried to curl up the floor to protect himself but I reached down, relieving the constriction on his throat, and pulling hard instead on the leather dog-collar round his neck, got him up on his knees.
"Did I tell you that you could leave, bitch?" I said, shaking him. "I think we better take some time to sort out the rules here. If we don't stop running on instinct you re going to be in the ER before bedtime." But I was thinking about my fantasies and how they were coming true .worship for Mulder, abuse for Fox already I was out of control how could I let Mulder use me as a punch bag, and yet want to beat Fox to a pulp, and how could both scenarios make me so hard that I couldn't control my reactions.
I let go of the collar and he reached out and steadied himself on my hips. I thought he was going to get up, but he leaned forward and began licking the cloth over the bulge in my jeans, earning applause and cat-calls from the audience we had acquired. I blushed hotly and tried to lever him off, telling him to stop between gritted teeth, but I couldn't back away because the people behind me were pressing forward for a better look. Someone behind me called
"Where did you find him, Fox? Can I have a taste too?"
Fox looked up and smiling at him, replied, "I found him in the sewer. That's where rats live, isn't it Alex? I found him in the sewer and he tastes of disease and shit and rotting corpses. My Ratboy is *so* delicious, and if you want risk trying him, be my guest, but I warn you he's vicious!" I finally managed to pull him to his feet and bundled him out of the main area into the quieter room, leaving our erstwhile audience behind. I thrust him onto a bench in one of the booths and was annoyed to see he was helpless with laughter. I sat opposite him and said curtly,
"What the hell were you thinking of? Don't you think we should keep a lower profile?"
"Come on, Alex, you started it" he guffawed. "Even *here* you can't kick the shit out of someone on the main dance-floor and attract *no* attention. You've just tetchy because your pants are damp."
"And about to get damper." said the voice from the dance-floor as a hand gripped my shoulder. "Good evening, Alex. Wie geht, Fchsin?"
"Es geht mir gut, Siggy" Fox replied in the most execrable German accent I have ever heard, standing and greeting the speaker with a kiss on both cheeks. Which freakshow does Mulder find his friends in? I thought, taking in the appearance of this latest specimen. He was tall, and rail thin with sharp features and a wide happy smile. His skin was paper-white and dotted all over with the freckles that went with his orange curly hair and albino-white lashes. His eyes were the palest blue and very large and at that moment running over my body as if his sight could penetrate my clothing.
"Mmm, er ist toll. Where is this sewer, Fchsin? I would like one of these rats for myself."
"I too" piped up another voice, and suddenly another pair of blue eyes were contemplating me. I glanced questioningly at Fox and said "Well, aren't you going to introduce us then, *Fchsin*?"
"Oh, yes Alex, this is Natalie and Sigismund. Twins, this is Alex."
"Guten Abend, es freut mich, Natalie, Siggy," I said, shaking their hands. At first glance, I had taken them for identical brothers, so alike were their faces and build, but you could tell one was female when she moved and her tiny breasts and rounded stomach were outlined against the loose weave of the sloppy knitted sweater that was the match of her brother s.
They sat down either side of Fox. Siggy immediately turned to Fox and, clasping the back of his neck in one pale spider-fingered hand, began running his tongue over the bruises I had made with the choke-chain. Fox sighed and stretched his neck for the caress, glancing at me through slitted eyelids. Natalie gave the leash a little shake, jangling the chain around his neck, and with her other hand stroked the welt on his face. "So, what is this, Alex? Have you tamed die *Fchsin*? Has he given himself to you? We will be very upset if you keep him all to yourself. My brother and I enjoy his company so much, he has such enthusiasm for our games."
"He had no choice. He was given to me this evening as part-payment for a debt. If he pleases me," I drawled, with a suggestive smile, "I may decide to keep him, and write off the debt. That is, if his owner and I can come to an agreement."
"I did not know he belonged to anyone, Alex. He has not ever mentioned this to us."
The turn of the conversation had attracted Fox's attention and he was looking at me in alarm. "Oh yes," I replied, "He's been under someone's control for some years, isn't that right, Fox? I believe he's not allowed out on his own very often, and maybe from now on, not at all, if he becomes my property."
"But surely you could share him sometimes. I find it hard to get suitable play-mates for my brother and die Fchsin is so obliging, so obedient." The brother under discussion had by now pulled Fox's T-shirt up and was running his hand over Fox's stomach.
"You surprise me" I said, frowning at Fox. "I've never known him to do what's expected of him; he's a real expert at pissing people off. As you can see, I've already had to correct him a couple of times this evening."
"Such a pretty bruise he marks so nicely, and heals up so quickly, I have noticed. Not like my poor brother, who cannot suffer as much as I would like him to because his skin is so easily damaged, and I do not wish to make too many scars. I expect if you are having trouble with him you have not made it clear who is in charge, or maybe he is trying to force you to be harsher with him. I have found it necessary to limit him sometimes, he would let me flog him so hard he would be useless for fucking afterwards. But you must know this, you have known him a while?"
The images that were springing to my brain had left me speechless, and it must have been obvious to Fox how freaked out I was becoming as each revelation distorted further the assumptions I had made about Mulder. Stifling a laugh, he decided to add to my discomfiture. "He's known me and my *owner* a long time, Natalie, but it was purely through business. He only had the first hint of how I spend my leisure hours a few days back, so I think you re going to shock him if you tell him in detail about how you like to whip Siggy and I, and how you like to watch us fuck each other. Perhaps you d like to watch too, Alex? Natalie says we put on a good show."
I goggled at him. "What *here*?" I exclaimed, and glanced round at the dais in the corner of the room, where a couple of dykes were demonstrating their enthusiasm for cunnilingus.
"We prefer more privacy for those sort of games." But not all your games, I was thinking, as I noticed Siggy was making a determined assault on Fox's flies. Fox realised where I was looking, and smirking at me, asked, "D'ya mind, Alex? Siggy loves sucking dick, and he's excellent at it, they both are or you could have one and I'll take the other?"
"Fine go ahead, don't worry about me I'd really like to see this." I stuttered. Natalie scooted round the table and, snuggling up to my side, put her hand on my crotch and felt the contours of the hard-on that was threatening to split the stitching of my jeans. "Are your sure, mein Freund? This feels like a good mouthful and Siggy and I were not joking about wanting to try a taste of the rat that unsere Fchsin finds so appetising."
"Oh, I'm sure but thank you, maybe another time. Remember, tonight I've got Fox for a trial run and I'll need all my stamina so I can test *his* talents thoroughly." I grinned nastily at Fox.
"But you don't mind ?" and she gestured at the couple opposite. I shook my head. "Sehr gut. Let us sit back and enjoy the performance." I lifted my arm and she settled against my side with my arm around her shoulders. They were broad and boney, I could feel the tight muscles in her arms, muscles that felt capable of inflicting a long, thorough beating, and I wondered if I would surrender to my sadistic desire to show Fox that I could better her.
Fox slid down in his seat to give Siggy better access to the zip of his pants, a prudent move, given their tightness and his apparent lack of underwear. Siggy's hands looked ghostlike, so thin and pale against the black leather and the golden tone of Fox's skin. The right one delved inside and eased out Fox's cock, not an unknown quantity to me considering my hobby as a Peeping Tom, but now assuming a different significance, because, although Fox's hands were stroking Siggy's head and back, his hazel eyes were staring relentlessly at my face.
Fox was already hard and drips of pearly liquid were oozing from the slit in the ruddy head of his cock. Siggy gripped the shaft with the tips of the fingers of his left hand, as one might hold a clarinet or flute, then collecting the liquid with the slender forefinger of his right hand, reached across the low table between us and offered it to me. Never taking my eyes from Fox, I presented my tongue as people do for the communion wafer and let Siggy anoint it with my love's juices. He gave a little smile to his sister, then bent to his task, working Fox's shaft with his right hand, his left buried in the dark curly hair at Fox's groin, stroking his thighs and scrotum.
His long pink tongue travelled all over the cock-head, teasing and tickling, and then, slipping from his seat and wriggling down between the table and Fox's spread legs, he took it in his mouth and drove his head down to Fox's groin. I was mesmerised by the sight of Fox's thighs, tightly imprisoned in shiny black, bucking and straining to push his prick ever deeper into the man at his feet, the tangle of ginger hair bobbing with the rhythm of Fox's thrusts. Fox began to pant and whimper, dragging my attention back to his face, his eyes, his lips. Those eyes had not a single glance to spare for the man who was sucking him, his whole attention was focused on me and my reaction to his arousal.
A wave of heat flushed through my body, and the air seemed suddenly as thin as if I were on a mountain top. My mouth opened and I ran my tongue over my lips, as if I could taste him, as if I were the man kneeling for Fox, forced open for his pleasure. I didn't need to watch the act any more, didn't need to be touched, the bliss on his face was enough, we were making love to each other just as surely as if we were in each other's arms. He was gasping for breath now, groaning and arcing his body back, his hands clenched in Siggy's hair, and I could feel myself approaching my climax too, and I knew I was going to come in my pants like an overexcited schoolboy when he gets his first real kiss. He gave a little cry, and as his whole body tensed and shuddered he smiled sweetly at me and pushed me right over the edge; my body spasmed, my prick throbbed and a warm wetness spread across the front of my groin.
I was brought back to earth by Natalie's giggle as she remarked "You should have accepted my offer to take care of that, Herr Rat. It would have been less messy." I looked ruefully at the dark stain on the front of my jeans and replied, "Guess your brother was right about me getting damper after all."
I excused myself and headed for the john to clean up, trailing Fox behind me on the end of his leash, to the amusement of his friends. When he protested I retorted, "You've managed to convince me about keeping my eye on you. If I don't, I reckon you'll have screwed your way right round this room by the end of the evening."
"Christ, Alex, I'm not *that* cheap. The twins are old friends, it would have been rude to ignore them. Looks like they d like to know you better as well, though I get the impression that tonight you've only got eyes for your Fox?" He stopped in front of me, lifted an eyebrow quizzically and squeezed the wet cloth between my legs. "Does this happen when Mulder looks at you, too? When he asked if you had the hots for him I think he d have had an apoplexy if he d known you d got it this bad."
I blushed and looked down at my feet, then back at him with a wry smile. "Too many secrets, I'm on overload here, Fchsin. Hey, why do they call you vixen, not Fox, anyway?"
"They think Fox is a nickname, and Siggy said it reminded him of people like Zorro, or the hero of a trashy detective novel or some gung-ho bomber pilot. They said it didn't suit, I was too sly and selfish and ruthless. So they gave me a sex-change. It's OK." He shrugged his shoulders. "Helps keep my secret. Some of the others call me that, too"
"Then why didn't you use a completely false name? You've got the paperwork."
"Because when I'm not Mulder, I *have* to be Fox. I'm not pretending here, Alex. I'm not playing a part. This is the only chance I get to be myself, I won't spoil that by hiding behind a different identity. Mulder won't allow any physical evidence, so we have counterfeit credit cards, driver's licences and so on. But I'm not giving up the chance for people to know me and call me by my real name."
This was too much, and I began to laugh. "Let me get this right are you telling me that Mulder is a party to credit card fraud? Or does he end up somehow paying the bills?"
He bit his lip and tried to look serious. "Well yeah I suppose that makes him a criminal, because I have no idea who pays the bills .the Gunmen just lose them somehow. Don't worry, it's not weighing on his conscience." He looked sidelong at me. "Wanna know another secret? One that Mulder and I both enjoy?"
"OK"
"When one of the twins is blowing me I'm usually thinking of Scully. It's the red hair And when Mulder looks at Scully and she's putting him down in that oh-so-reasonable manner of hers, or showing him up in front of someone, he thinks of the twins and how he d like to shut her up by stuffing his dick in her mouth."
"She'd bite it off."
"Umm you've got a point."
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
Fox's friends had replenished our drinks by the time we returned. Natalie rose as we approached, and taking the leash from me, said, "May I have your pretty pet for a while, Herr Rat? A little exercise on the dance floor would be good for him, and if you are going to be claiming his time in future I would like to enjoy his company while I can. Don't worry, I'll keep him under firm restraint."
Fox's throat received further punishment as she pulled the strap sharply to bring him to heel. He tried to hook his fingers inside the chain and rasped, "Shit, I must have been mad to come up with this idea. If I ever suggest it again, talk me out of it would you?"
"Nonsense, you have found the perfect means to enforce your obedience. I wish I had thought of it myself. Now let go and follow me quietly, or your voice will be permanently silenced." She tweaked the leash and winked at me over the top of Fox's head. With her stilletto-heeled boots on she towered over Fox, barefoot, she must have been at least six feet tall.
"You re welcome, Natalie. When you return, perhaps you can give me some advice on how to control him, should I become his new master?"
Fox looked startled. "You've got enough evil ideas of your own, Alex. I'm sure Natalie can't have anything to teach you."
"Your opinions aren't really important, now are they, bitch? For someone who's only interested in non-verbal communication you sure have a lot to say; I think you should keep that lovely mouth for what it was designed for "
I took his chin in my hand and kissed him hard, earning a rude gesture as Natalie towed him off to the larger room.
I sat down by Siggy, who was watching their departure with a thoughtful expression on his face. He turned toward me and frowned slightly. "You understand, this situation is a surprise to us, one that we must think about."
"Frankly, it's a surprise to me too, Siggy. I can't say much, because this isn't settled, and involves secrets that aren't mine, but this has happened suddenly, and, I think, unintentionally. I knew nothing of Fox's life outside his work, and when his owner offered him to me, I didn't realise I still don't realise what I may be in for."
"Whatever you decide, we hope that we may still keep die Fchsin for a friend, that you will not claim all his time. We do not often see him anyway, and as we are due to go home to Germany soon, probably before the baby is born, we would like to make the most of the weeks that are left. I think this is so for Fchsin as well."
Paralysed, motionless, the word tumbling over and over in my mind baby .baby *baby*. I turned my head'very slowly, as if the slightest jar would send it crashing from my shoulders to roll across the floor, and fixed Siggy with a look of disbelief. "Did you say what I thought you just said? Are you telling me that Natalie is *pregnant*?"
"Why, yes!" he gave a little laugh and shake of his head, "You think she has a little beer-gut, perhaps? Die Fchsin did not say anything about this?"
"And Mul Fox is the father." I made it a statement, not a question. Siggy became coy, "W..e..ll, we are not completely sure, it was not planned, you understand, an accident, even these days such things happen. But Natalie and I found that we were so happy about it, that there was no way we would get rid of it."
"And he's happy too?"
Siggy pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, and no. I feel he is happy that there is a baby, that he may have a child which is his, but he is unhappy that it happened in the first place. He fills Natalie's head with vague warnings of danger, warnings that he will not make clear, except to say emphatically that no one must know he is the father."
"But he may not be the baby's father, you said. What about the other possible man or men?"
"There is only one other that it could be." Siggy looked down at his lap, where his pale fingers writhed with each other like the tentacles of a sea anemone. He glanced up briefly, and then back to his hands. "It could be me."
"I see. You know, people here wouldn't be tolerant if that were so."
He took a deep breath and fiercely looked at me. "It is so in Germany, also. But even if we had known for sure that it was my baby, there would have been *no* abortion, unless the doctors had said it was abnormal. There is no sign of any problem with it, and there are no genetic diseases in our family not even shortsightedness, certainly nothing serious like cystic fibrosis. Unless you count our complexion not a survival trait in a world with no ozone layer, hmm?." He looked at me questioningly, seeking understanding. "We have arranged all the tests we could. We do not want to make a child who will have a life of suffering or severe disability. But my sister and I love each other dearly, and though we would not have chosen for this to happen, we cannot kill a part of ourselves. It is, however, more likely to be Fchsin's baby."
"You re only telling me this because you may not see him again, right? Despite him asking you not to tell anyone he is the baby's father."
"No no you are different he has had many boyfriends since we have known him. But he has allowed none of them a relationship . With die Fchsin it is all for pleasure, there has been no meaning, no love, no hate, just lust. You say that you may *own* him now, and if you had been just been another man on the scene we would have said nothing, though we would have tried to keep in touch with him. But you are the first person we have met who knows who he really is, who has known him as something other than the sex toy he pretends to be. Many people here, of course, conceal who they are, and until this happened it was not important to us that Fchsin did too. Now, though, now this is hurtful, especially to my sister."
"So you re asking me to betray him, to let you know things that he wants to hide so badly that he won't even give you his name, so that one day his child can know who it's father was."
He reached over absently and took my hand and began to stroke it. I don't think he realised what he was doing, his concentration was all on our conversation. "Yes, I suppose I am, or at least to tell me *why* he keeps himself a secret from us. We met him a while ago you know, last time we were in America, and he has visited us in Germany. We like him'very much and we thought he was a friend, and assumed he was happy to be our lover for so long because we needed no commitment from him, no promises, because he understood that Natalie and I are complete together.
He knows us well enough to realise that we can be discreet, that we re not interested in blackmailing him he knows we don't want money, or to cause him embarrassment, and he need not be involved in bringing up the child. He knows we care for him. So what is it that stops him telling us his name? It doesn't have to be written anywhere, the birth certificate can be blank, but how can we tell our child that we knew it's father but he did not care enough even to be a real person." He gripped my hand harder, and his voice became bitter, "I would not be ashamed, I would be the father, but I must not be. I can never be more than a doting uncle, even if it is my baby, I can never claim it, it would never know how deep my love would be. He has this this honour, and he throws it away and insults us by giving no reasons."
I could see an abyss opening before me. One way or another I was going over the edge. The piece of information I had just been given was going to shove me right in, Mulder too, and probably these poor unsuspecting bystanders. I couldn't *imagine* the uses the Consortium would make of it, how much it could be worth to me to tell them. And all the twins would be thinking of would be cheated wives or blighted political careers. They would have to go on thinking that, there was no way that the truth would make their position less dangerous.
"You shouldn't have told me this, Siggy. You should have kept the secret. Listen to Fox's warnings and don't let anyone link him with the baby, and don't tell him you've told me; he d be petrified to hear that I know. "
"Surely he will be pleased that I have told you, he trusts you. I saw how he looked at you, how he responds to you. He loves you Alex, I've seen him with many men and he's never reacted like he does with you, the emotions are like a radiation pouring from him. I have heard him say your name in his sleep, you know, and the way he says it is like a caress." He smiled crookedly, and gave my hand a little kiss. "I must say I have not been disappointed by the man who gives meine Fchsin his wet dreams."
I shook my head sadly. "He can't love me, Siggy. He desires me, but the only other emotion he feels for me is hate. I've hurt him and cheated him, though some of the things he thinks I've done weren't my fault. He doesn't believe me if I tell the truth, because he's believed so many of my lies. He'll be sure to expect me to find a way of hurting him through the baby. He might be right I've done quite a few despicable things to ensure my survival."
I pulled my hand from his and leant back in the seat, studying him from under my lashes "I've been dragging him round on a dog lead all evening, for fuck's sake. You saw me kicking him, you've heard me abusing him. Maybe that looks to you like foreplay, but to me it looks like he's using me, goading me, to be a person I don't want to be, to make me lose my self-respect. He and I, and his owner, we have quite a history. There have been a lot of *business* disagreements a lot of bad blood. I'm sorry to beat about the bush, I can't be any more explicit."
"So, your answer is no ."
"It's not just no , it's no, don't even consider asking anyone else, and it's no, you can't be his friend any more, you mustn't be seen with him. The danger is real, and I am not going to explain either."
He frowned at me and said crossly, "You are both ridiculous with your talk of secrets and dangers . You are both just frightened of a little scandal, and if there were one, we would not cause it." He tensed himself to get up, but I gripped his arm and stopped him.
"Please Siggy, believe me," I pleaded, "forget Fox, let the baby be nameless, go home and stay away from Washington. Imagine Fox as being involved in a gang war. Each side has ruthless men, men who don't flinch at murder, at threats against a helpless baby, anything to get their own way. Don't get involved, please don't get noticed by these people."
"Next you will be telling me that he is Salman Rushdie in disguise," he sneered, "or maybe Hilary Clinton's gigolo, or the leader of the Ku Klux Klan. OK, we won't ask any more questions, we will try to make sense of this." He bit his lip, and took my hand again, and gently ran the tip of one finger over my knuckles. The he said quietly, "I am sorry I spoke of it to you, but since I have, please let me know if die Fchsin changes his mind, or if you do. May we let him know when the baby is born?"
I put my hand up to his cheek and looked into his sad eyes, and, feeling like a complete bastard I said "Really, Siggy, it's essential that there is never any more communication between you. If I take him on, I'm not going to let him contact you, though I won't tell him I know about the baby. I'll pretend it's selfishness, that under his new regime I get to choose or discard his friends. If you run into him at all, ignore him, show him you don't want to know him any more. I'm sorry about this, it's obvious that you care about him, and there aren't many who do. Give me you number, and if I can, I'll get in touch and pass any news between you. If things change, I promise to tell you. OK?"
He nodded his head, and scribbling on one of the drip mats, said, "Here is our address while we are still in America, maybe two more months. There is also our e-mail this will not change when we go home." I stowed it away in my coat.
I sighed and smiled at him, and giving a self-conscious laugh, said, "I'm sorry about this for my own sake, too. Sounds like M Fox has been having a hell of a lot more fun than I have lately, I reckon I could have enjoyed being part of your menage."
He lifted his eye-brows and pursed his lips. "Does this mean, Herr Rat, that I get to taste before we part forever."
"That's what I was hoping you d say." I purred, and ran my eyes greedily over his long, slim legs, the lithe body revealed where his sweater was pulled taut against his chest and that enormous smiley mouth that had been doing such luscious things to Mulder a while ago. Freaky, yeah, but damn sexy. "But I'm not up for a public display. Have they got anywhere more private?"
"Yeah yeah, not completely, but more than this " He licked his lips and grinned, took my hand and pulled me to my feet. "C mon." He lead me over to the bar and, whispering something to one of the staff, was pointed towards a curtained door to the side. "They have a couple of rooms for patrons who are a bit shy. But one usually has to share still, you understand. So if you cannot *perform* in front of others we will have to find ourselves a quiet alley out in the rain."
"S OK, that's cool. It's just that out there in the club I'd feel like a circus act, y know."
"I find that adds a certain frisson "
"Hmm"
Through another curtain and we were in a shabby, dimly lit room, three of whose walls were lined with wide benches covered in scuffed leather. A low table in the centre of the room was covered in empty beer bottles and glasses, and a bin completed the furnishings, thoughtfully provided by the management for used condoms. The room's only occupants were a couple of muscular black guys, totally naked, engaged in a vigorous 69 on the left hand bench. Either they didn't notice or politely ignored us, though Siggy and I took a moment to admire the glorious tight buttocks of the one on top as they flexed and thrust.
I felt Siggy's breath on the back of my neck as he pulled my leather jacket from my shoulders and dumped it on the bench behind him. Then he was kissing me, licking me, his chest pressed against my back and his long sinewy arms clamping me still against his body as his hands explored the skin under my T-shirt. Like his sister, he was wearing boots that exaggerated his height, and when he turned me round to take my mouth he had to bend down to reach.
"Do you want to bare all too, little rat?" he asked.
"Yeah, and get those damn boots off, unless you re planning to screw me through my belly button." That belly button was being crushed against the impressively large bulge between Siggy's stilt-like legs. I pushed up his sweater and gave my attention to his tiny pink nipples and the smooth china-white skin of his chest. I licked and nibbled at them as he struggled out of his knit-wear, then tilted my face up and pulled his head down for another kiss. His long tongue slipped between my lips and explored my mouth, and my cock began to throb, reminding me that it would appreciate a bit more freedom. I took his hand and put it on my flies and he obligingly started to undo my jeans as I slipped my own hands down his back and inside his pants to caress his backside.
He broke off the kiss and said, "Come, let us remove the rest of our clothes or we will fall over in an inelegant heap on the floor, and I, for one, do not fancy that." It was, indeed, unsavoury-looking. We helped each other undress and I pushed Siggy down on a bench and proceeded to give him a thorough examination with my mouth and tongue. I'd never before been with someone so ginger-haired, and it was fascinating to see how his skin was mottled in elegant patterns with swirls of freckles, down his back and across his shoulders. The orange hair on his head gave way to gleaming gold wire on his torso, before darkening again to a fresh copper hue at his groin.
His erect penis was sea-shell pink, long and slim, with a scatter of freckles at its base; and crowned with a softly wrinkled foreskin, whose secrets I began to explore with my tongue. He groaned and reached down to fondle my hair as I pushed it back and caressed his naked cock-head with my lips, so much juicier and more sensitive than a circumcised one, then sucked the skin back and nipped at it teasingly.
"You had better tell me how you want this, or the decision will be made for us, if you continue doing that" gasped Siggy.
I stopped immediately and sat astride him, undulating my hips so that my prick was rubbing delightfully against his.
"Would you fuck me, Siggy? I'd really like that. Take me up against the wall and nail me to it."
"So" he said, looking at me speculatively, "You did not give the impression that this is what you want when you were with your Fox, huh?"
I sniggered. "We don't have to tell him. He thinks I'm a real hard man, I don't want to disappoint him." I tugged him to his feet and ran my hands over his hips and groin, while he began to nibble and suck at my neck and ear again, covering my skin with goosebumps. His hands clasped my cock and balls and fondled them firmly, then reached round and parted my buttocks and his fingers ran up and down my crack, tantalising my anus with little rubs and nudges. Soon I was moaning with need, thrusting myself back onto his hands and pumping his shaft to encourage him.
"Go and brace yourself, Herr Rat. I will prepare myself and then I will make you into the piece of pussy that you wish to be, nicht wahr?"
My legs were quivering as I crossed the room to the clear bit of wall beside the entrance. It must have been over six months since I had let someone fuck me, I'm usually too on edge, watching for danger, expecting betrayal, expecting a bullet or a knife I can't relax and let someone else take control. It's easier to get release when I'm sure I'm in charge of the situation, and that usually means a hooker or a blowjob. But this is what I like best, to give it all up and let my lover take what they want, to make my body respond at their pace, not mine. I put my hands against the wall and let my forehead rest there too, taking deep breaths as my heart-rate slowed a trifle.
Siggy's hand stroked down my back to my buttocks and I bent forward a little and spread my legs for him. His hands felt somewhat slimy with lube as he parted my butt and positioned himself at my hole, but that was all the notice I got before he grabbed me by the hips in a vice-like grip and slammed his cock into me. The world went white with pain, and I shrieked and tried to pull away from him, but those skinny arms were as strong as steel hawsers and he held me fast as he thrust himself in and out, ignoring my whimpers and pleas. Slowly the pain subsided and an aching fullness replaced it, and I realised his voice was hissing in my ear, a litany of filthy endearments, suggestions, in his own guttural language. There's nothing like being fucked in German for making you feel dirty and decadent, I don't know if there's a name for a kink like that, but it sure does it for me.
Soon I was begging him to do it harder, faster; pleading with him to touch my cock, to finish it. Suddenly a warm softness engulfed it and when I looked down I discovered one of the guys from the bench was at my feet, and my prick had disappeared, right up to the root, down his throat. He began to work it with his lips and tongue, and it was just too much. I vaguely heard myself groaning over and over, "Jesus, oh Jesus" before I came, spasming violently and filling the mouth below me with my come. I would have collapsed, my legs were like jelly, but Siggy held me up as he thrust into me powerfully for a few more times and before climaxing himself, biting down hard into my shoulder muscle as I felt his cock pulsing inside me.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
It was well past 1am when we emerged from the back room into the noise of the club. I hadn't known what to expect of this date , but in my most lurid dreams I don't think I would have come up with anything to rival the revelations and events of this evening.
I hadn't exactly managed to start forging a relationship with Fox, unless hitting him a few times and fucking one of his friends counts, and, I was thinking as we made our way back to the table, I wasn't going to achieve much more tonight. I'd said earlier to Fox that I was on overload, well now I felt like a computer with too much data and not enough memory y know when they re so busy shuffling stuff around to fit that they can't process any of it. Add to that the lassitude you get from the comedown after all the adrenaline and sex, and a sore butt - (Siggy had been rather apologetic about that, especially when he saw a smear of blood, but I told him he was more than welcome.) and you ve got an Alex Krycek who s ready just to go home and sleep. What a wuss, you re thinking must be getting old
The others were sitting at the table when we returned, and if they were in any doubt what we d been up to, Siggy made it quite clear.
"You have excellent taste in rodents, leibe Fchsin," he said, putting his arm round my shoulders, "But I found him not at all vicious. Maybe you are not used to handling him, hmm? He responds beautifully to my touch."
I was amused to notice that Fox looked a bit peeved. "You shouldn't have offered him that taste, Fox. He s been rather greedy and I don't think there s any Alex left for you now. I'm exhausted, so say goodbye, cos we re going home." I clasped my hands round the back of Siggy s neck and pulled myself up to reach his mouth for a long tender kiss. "Goodbye, Siggy," I whispered in his ear. "I wish it could be Auf Wiedersehen . Please remember what I've said and keep away from Fox."
I said goodbye to Natalie as I took Fox s lead from her and urged him to his feet. "C'mon, someone has to work in the morning and he'll be mad at me if I get you home late." We started to make our way to the door, but Fox had other ideas.
"Hey, I'm not tired. You go if you want too, but I'm still having fun."
"Oh, I don't think so. Hasn't that neck of yours had enough punishment for one evening, or do I have to drag you along again? By the way, how *are* you going to explain the bruises to Scully?"
"Not my problem, is it Alex?" He gave an evil smile. "He s had to think up reasons for a hell of a lot of strange marks over the years. Luckily most of my souvenirs are covered by the suit. Mulder can cope with this sort of thing because it fades, but he gets wild if there are any lasting marks makes him feel soiled.. Usually he pushes my existence right to the back of his mind, but of course if I acquire a scar he can't deny me to himself. Otherwise he d have a tattoo or two by now, but unfortunately I couldn't convince him that people would believe they d been done by aliens."
"But what about this?" I asked, taking his earlobe in my fingers, and nudging the spike in it.
"He got some of them before I appeared, so they don't count. Remember he was at Oxford in the early eighties, with the punk movement on its way out, and the New Romantics starting." He shrugged, and continued dismissively, "He was a teenager, as much of a fashion victim as any of them. It s just one of those things you did when your parents weren't around to stop you. He s let me do some more where they re not obvious. You ve seen one of them," he stuck out his tongue and waggled it at me. "And you know I'm looking forward to showing you the others." He pouted and rubbed his crotch suggestively.
"I'm sure you are, but not tonight. You re going back to the apartment, back to being Mulder, and I'm going to bed. To sleep. On my own. OK? You can give me that treat when Mulder lets you out again."
"And how am I supposed to get in touch? Y want me to set the Gunmen to trace you, or do it through the FBI, uh? I didn't think you or Mulder would want to attract the attention."
"Yeah, good point. Here " I found a ballpoint in my pocket and scrawled one of my e-mail addresses on his forearm. "This one shouldn't be traceable."
"Gee, thanks, use me for graffiti. Be my guest "
By this time we were at the door. The storm had passed and the gleaming street was garnished with tendrils of mist, as the heat stored in the asphalt during so many hot days evaporated the rain-water. Our footsteps echoed in the quiet street as we walked back to the car.
"You re being a total drag, Alex. I *really* don't want him taking over again so soon; honest, he usually lets me be until early morning, then just goes back to the Gunmen s to shower and change and goes straight to work. C'mon, one sleepless night a fortnight can't hurt him. God, listen to me, I sound like a kid trying to wheedle a few minutes extra before bedtime." He twined his arms round me and pushed me back against the car, rubbing his cheek against mine. "If you take me back now, I'll just sneak out again once you re gone." he murmured.
I pushed my hands up under his T-shirt and rubbed his warm back.
"I could cuff you to a radiator, or knock you out. Then you d stay put. Look, I'm not kidding you, I'm so tired I'm going to drop on the sidewalk any moment. So why don't we go back to your apartment, and I'll crash on your sofa if you like. You can do what the fuck you want, be Fox all night, but you'll have to be him in my company, sleeping or waking, because you were given to me for this evening and that s that." I turned my face in towards his neck and began giving him little kisses along his jaw-line. "Give me a break, eh? I need my beauty sleep."
He pulled back and looking me in the eyes, he smiled softly and said, "No you don t. Beauty sleep would be wasted on you. Nothing could make you more beautiful to me, Krycek."
Suddenly his mouth was on mine, and his tongue inside me and he was kissing me demandingly, brutally, pinning me painfully against the car. It dawned on me that this wasn't Fox, this was Mulder, breaking through.
The kisses were like his blows, full of anger, spiteful and selfish, pounding against the wall of hurt and blame that he had gathered from his life and embodied in me. But he must have realised what was happening too, because he abruptly stiffened and jerked away from me, holding me at arm s length with an expression of horrified disgust on his face. His hands clawed into my jacket and he span me round and threw me across the sidewalk.
I lay there dazed as he scooped up the keys I'd dropped, jumped into my car and screeched off down the road.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
I woke midmorning still feeling pissed with Mulder.
I'd got a cab home easily enough, but it had taken me forever to break into my apartment and disable the alarms without my keys. Maybe Mulder can sleep at night with a door lock that I could have picked in elementary school; I'm not so complacent. But it was warm and comfortable in bed, and as I dozed, watching the specks of dust dancing in a shaft of sunlight across the room, I turned over the events of the previous night in my mind and began to feel more charitable towards him. He d obviously had his life in a sort of order, a balance, albeit an unhealthy truce between how he thought he ought to be, and all the feelings that he didn't want to have. In typical Mulder fashion he d gone over the top with both behaviours. I suspected that as Fox became more outrageous, Mulder compensated by inhibiting his feelings even more, and focusing on his job.
Now Fox had thrown a spanner in the works, and, I supposed, for the first time, he (they?) had to cope with the two lifelines crossing over. Well, Mulder certainly needed to sort his life out, but there was no point in me pussy-footing around and trying to be Mr. Sensitive. If he d let it go on this long (and I wondered exactly *how* long) then my recommended solution would be to put a bomb under him and see how the pieces put themselves back together. I rolled over and picked up the phone and dialled Mulder's office.
"Scully"
"Hiya, Agent Scully, and how are you this beautiful morning?"
"Well, it was a beautiful morning until I heard your voice. What do you want, Krycek?"
"My keys, Scully. My house and car keys. Lover-boy helped himself to them last night and it's a damn nuisance without them." I swear I could hear the sound of furniture falling over in the background and Mulder's voice calling urgently for her to give him the phone.
"And by Lover-boy you would be referring to "
"Why, Agent Mulder, of course," I sighed passionately. Mulder was now demanding that she should pass it to him. "Is he there? You can tell him I'm not mad at him anymore for running out on me last night."
There was a scuffling noise, and Scully's voice saying "Mulderrrr". Then Mulder snapped "Coffee table" and slammed down the phone. And I love you too, I thought, chuckling as I hung up.
I pushed the bed-covers down and stretched thoroughly, basking in the heat of the room. By rolling over on the bed, the sun-beam I'd been watching fell on my naked back and ass, warming my skin, and I wondered how many years it had been since I'd lain on a beach, dug my fingers into the sand and let it glide out between them. I felt good, more optimistic than I'd been in a long time, and I knew it was because my relationship with Mulder was going finally to be sorted. Y'know, it really didn't matter to me at that moment whether the outcome would be good or bad, whether we d be lovers or mortal enemies. I'd been in limbo so long, on hold so long, any resolution would be a relief, a chance for my emotions to be let out of that cell in which they d been locked since I first met him.
I bussed over to Mulder's that afternoon. Sure enough, my keys were on the table, resting on a sheet of paper bearing the single word Again? He d left a pencil alongside, so I wrote Yes , adding a few XXX's beneath. I couldn't resist having another look around while I was there, and soon found a sports bag containing last night's outfit. There was also a little box with quite an assortment of body jewellery, some of which left me baffled, a wicked-looking switchblade and the wallet I'd seen which had a set of documents made out in the name of Marvin Aday. Someone had a sense of humour. I rummaged around until I found the leather collar, and helped myself to the metal dog-tag, then putting everything back as I found it, I let myself out.
He d parked the car right across the street from his apartment, and I'd soon driven home. However, it wasn't until I was opening my front door that I realised that there was an extra key on the ring, one of the same make as the lock on Mulder's apartment.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
That evening the Smoker sent me out of town to raid the files of a microbiology lab on the outskirts of Baltimore. It was a cinch, their security was laughable, and by early morning I'd delivered the copy I was ordered to get, to him, and received an edited version for Mulder's perusal.
I was told to hand it over in person, and for once I discovered I was reluctant to face him, sort of embarrassed, y'know, like when you get blind drunk and don't want to face your friends because you don't remember what stupid things you may have done? But the Smoker insisted the postal service wasn't good enough, it didn't introduce that element of doubt that receiving information from me did.
So 9am. found me back at Mulder's place, bleary-eyed, sweaty and unshaven from my all night shift. I used my new key to let myself in, half-hoping Mulder wouldn't be there, but, surprise, surprise, he was snoring gently on his couch clad only in a pair of boxers. The noise of the TV tuned to some inane kid's cartoon effectively blocked out the sound of my entry, and he slept on, oblivious to my presence. I tip-toed over and studied him, and a warm, kinda cosy glow swept over me. It took all my self-control to keep from kissing him, on that pale tan chest, maybe, or on those inviting lips, or even his fingers which were twitching slightly, as baby's hands do, while he dreamt.
I let him sleep on, and watched him for a while, until it occurred to me that he d given me a key, which *could* be interpreted as an invitation to use the place as my own. Leaving the file I'd brought on the coffee table, I braved the slime-pit, which Mulder fondly believes is a bathroom, for a shower and a shave, and then wandered back into his bedroom, wondering if he d blow a gasket if I borrowed some of his clothes, since mine were pretty rank.
I could've only sat down on the bed for a moment, but I must have totally zonked out, cos next thing I knew something cold and hard was butting against my forehead. My eyes snapped open, and for a few seconds I was completely disorientated, until I realised that the person attached to the other end of the gun, *my* gun, was Mulder. He was squatting on his haunches at my side, still just in his boxers, and with his hair sticking out at peculiar angles from being messed in his sleep.
"I didn't anticipate you d interpret the key as an invitation to cohabit, Krycek." he said quietly. "What happened, your landlord couldn't stand your foul stink any more? .or maybe you regard my humble abode as a step up from the cess pit where you belong."
"What can I say?" I replied, with a little laugh, scooting up on my elbows to look at him. "The thought of living with you was too tempting. All that laundry, spring cleaning, tidying, just begging to be done. My mouth was watering at the prospect. Why di D'you give it to me, anyway?"
"Not sure I think fear of you finally getting caught breaking in, and either getting arrested, or splattering one of my neighbour's brains all over the wall. Your welfare is more my concern now, I guess, since you might be tempted to tell on me if you re in trouble. The longer you keep my secret, the less I'll be worried, though. Your bosses would be seriously angry if they knew you re keeping this information quiet."
I was letting my eyes wander over his body. I could see the bruises I'd made now; two sharp-edged black brands on his torso, a fading red mark on his face and a necklace of overlapping stripes round his throat, all the proofs of my love, all the kisses, *my* kisses. My cock was hardening rapidly, pushing aside the inadequate towel that I'd wrapped round my waist. Consciously I knew I should fight my arousal, but my subconscious had other ideas about me lying semi-naked in Mulder's bedroom, an equally unclothed Mulder not two feet away. My deepening breathing must have alerted him to my condition, because he glanced down at my groin, his lip curling disdainfully, and delicately took the top edge of the towel between a finger and thumb and twitched it loose.
"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Krycek?" he asked scornfully, staring at my twitching cock, which was more swollen and hard than I could ever remember it to have been. "Aren't you disgusted to be such a dirty queer? Why don't you try to hide your perverted lust from me? Or is being a fag just the cherry on the cake, the ultimate qualification for a motherfucker that's passed his examinations in lying, treason and murder?"
I sat up and looked him in the eyes. "I'm ashamed of myself for a lot of the things I've done, Mulder, not least the things I've done to you. I'm an evil person, I'm a violent man, and I've done some dreadful deeds, some of which even *I d* rather not believe I would be capable of doing. But I'm *not* ashamed of being homosexual, because for me it's normal, and natural, and I'd only be perverted if I tried to deny it. It could be normal for you too, if you d only let it. You've torn yourself in half, trying to refute what you were born to be. Why the hell haven't you had professional help to sort yourself out?"
"I had it sorted, Krycek, til you came along. Mulder was who he was supposed to be, who his parents taught him to be, and anything he wasn't supposed to be was taken care of by Fox. OK?"
"I don't think it's OK, Mulder. It's a long way from that." I grabbed his wrist, and tore off the dressing he had on his lower arm. I'd been wondering what it was for, and it had finally connected. The flesh beneath was deeply scored with fresh cuts, criss-crossing over the area where I could still see faintly the pen marks I'd made on his skin. His face went blank, and his eyes empty, and in a scary little voice he said, "It wouldn't wash off. So I used a razor on it . You were mean to Fox, Alex. Why didn't you write him a love poem instead, a little love poem written on his neck, instead of these nasty bruises." I was clutching the arm with the gun, and he began to massage and pull at the skin on his neck with his other hand. His voice turned into a harsh rasp. "I would have had an excuse to slit his throat."
He shook me off and jumped to his feet, cocking the gun. "Anyway, he didn't get long enough last night, Krycek. I pushed him out too soon, and now he's needling me to let him come back. I'm twitchy, I can't concentrate, I'm irrational, and if I'm going to get through work next week I'm going to have to have a bigger fix. Do you want him tomorrow? I'm assuming that you want to continue with the arrangement" he added sarcastically.
"All right," I answered. "tomorrow's all right. But I didn't realise I was going to be the guardian of your sanity, Mulder. Last time you called me depraved for the suggestions I made to you. Now you re virtually encouraging me, using me as human Prozac."
"You *are* depraved," he sneered, "and I *am* disgusted by you, but no more disgusted than I am by Fox. He's done all the things you taunted me with, and more. I don't deny him anything, any vice, so long as he keeps our secret and doesn't do major damage to this body. That includes precautions against disease, in case you were worried."
"He didn't keep your secret, though. He's told me, and he's put you in danger. So he's broken your agreement, hasn't he?"
"That's why I was so upset when you came to see me that night after you met him. I was livid at what he d done, and terrifie D'you would expose me. But I needn't have worried; you re just as interested in keeping this quiet as I am, aren't you? So long as you can enjoy this body, you don't care a shit about advancing your master's business, do you Krycek? You first, and let the rest of the world go to hell. Look at you, you can't control yourself, can you?" He stepped closer, and ran the gun down my stomach, giving my hard-on a little tap with the barrel. "Shall we see just how desperate you are, my cocksucking friend? Lie down again, I'm going to try an experiment."
I grasped his gun hand again and snarled, "Go screw yourself, Mulder. You can't kill me, you told me yourself. We re on my terms here."
"Maybe, maybe not. I won't have any problem with maiming, though." He captured my other hand and slapped the palm against the muzzle of the gun and pulled the trigger. My heart stopped, time stopped. There was no pain, no blood. I began to shake violently, and from a distance I could hear Mulder's voice calling me. It slowly dawned on me that I hadn't been shot, and Mulder was telling me my hand was still whole. I looked at him dizzily.
"I took some of the bullets out, Ratboy. Three of them, to be precise. I don't know which ones wanna try it again?"
"You bastar D'you *fucking* bastard, Mulder." I screamed at him. "You lunatic. It's not loaded at all is it? Christ, I nearly shit myself."
There was an almighty explosion as Mulder's TV shattered into a million pieces. He d shot it through the door.
"Again, Krycek? Are you going to lie down like I said, or do you want to gamble?" He cocked an eyebrow at me. I lowered myself slowly onto my back, and lay still. My erection had completely subsided and my pulse was fluttering. Mulder looked at me pensively for a few moments, then went over to a chest piled with boxes. Rummaging in one of them he unearthed a small bottle, half-full of yellowish liquid, and put it beside the bed. A hunt in the jacket of a suit, hitched onto the closet door, yielded a coin which he put beside the bottle. He sat on the bed beside me, close enough that my bare thigh was resting against his boxers. He idly ran the gun barrel up and down my chest, teasing my nipples erect, and then down to my groin where my irrepressible penis was stirring again.
"How much do you want me, Ratboy? Are you game for a bit of fun? D'you think you can get it up for me if your life depends on it, eh? I'm going to stick this gun up your ass. You can try and jerk yourself off. If you can come in, say, fifteen minutes, I'll pull it out and toss that coin. If it's heads, you can have the gun and shoot it where you like at me, I suspect. I'll have a one in four chance of not being shot. Got that?"
I was shaking my head. "You re not serious, you can t.."
He pushed his face up to mine and barked, "I said *got that*?"
"Yes"
"If it's tails, nobody shoots. OK?" I nodded. "On the other hand, if you don't come, the gun stays put, and I toss the coin, as before. If it's heads, and there's a bullet in the chamber, you get shot in the ass. I guess there'd be three possible outcomes if that happens, depending on the angle of the gun. You get a perforated gut, but they d probably be able to patch you up, assuming I bother to call an ambulance. Or you die." He grinned. "Or, and this is my favourite, dear Alex, I shatter your spine, an D'you spend the rest of your days in a wheelchair."
"And what about if I say, No fucking way, Agent Mulder, you are completely out of your addled mind if you think I'll play Russian Roulette with you "
I spat at him, catching him on the cheek. He laughed at me and, digging the gun into my navel, he murmured, "Why then, Alex, I forget the coin and shoot anyway, straight through here and splinter your backbone. Alex the cripple. 75% chance."
"Please, Mulder, don't do this. Give me to the law if you want revenge for all the things you think I've done to you, but don't make me play this stupid game."
He was awkwardly opening the bottle one-handed, keeping the gun trained on me. "No police any more, not now you know my secrets, Krycek. Go on, beg me to stop. I'd like to hear that."
He wasn't going to hear me beg, though, because I'd started to get angry, and when that happens I forget caution and common sense. "Screw you, and your stupid ideas." I said defiantly. "I'll do it, if you've got the guts to do something for me. Afterwards, if we re both still in one piece, you kiss me Mulder. A proper kiss, and from you, not Fox. Deal?"
He studied me, pursing his lips, and then shrugged. "Deal. Hold out your hand, please" He poured a little puddle into my palm from the bottle. It was gun oil, and he held out the weapon for me to slick it. "Now you." He gave me a little more, and I worked it into my asshole, wincing as it seeped into the sore areas I'd got from Siggy's fucking. I'd actually been thinking I'd have no problem masturbating in front of Mulder, because it usually felt like I had to concentrate to *stop* myself coming when I was with him, but this turned out to be different. I pulled my knees up and opened my legs, and he knelt in between, spreading my cheeks with one hand and gently working the gun-barrel in with the other.
It went in easy enough, it was smooth and slippery, and no bigger than a thumb, and soon warmed to my temperature. He and I both glanced at the wall clock, and I grasped my half-hard cock and started stimulating it, running my other hand over my chest and pinching my nipples. I gazed into his eyes, a little pleadingly, if you want the truth, but his expression remained calm and inscrutable, and he made no effort to fuck me with the gun, to give me any encouragement at all.
After a few minutes, with my cock, if anything, getting limper, I shut my eyes and tried to conjure up a fantasy. But the images that kept recurring were of my time in the FBI, of interviews with the Consortium when I'd agreed to sabotage Mulder's work, of Scully's sister, of all the dirt on my hands. I knew it was no use, and he did too, and we watched the last two minutes ticking away together.
There were tears leaking from my eyes and running down the sides of my face, into my mouth, and I savoured the salt, the last thing I might ever taste. He said, "Just in case, goodbye , Krycek. I won't wish you good luck." He threw the coin in the air and I saw it spinning over and over, before it landed with a little plop on my stomach. There was a long silence, and I felt the bed rise as Mulder got off.
"Get dressed and go, please, Krycek." he said, and he slipped on a pair of trainers and went out into the lounge, crunching across the broken glass.
I squinted down at the coin. Sure enough, tails was uppermost, but, y'know, instead of being relieved, I felt guilty for surviving, for failing to atone for my crimes. I put the coin on the table by the bed, and gingerly removed the gun from my anus. The oil on the barrel had mingled with smears of shit and a hint of blood, and I wiped it clean on Mulder's towel before checking the bullets.
The next two shots would have been live rounds, before another empty appeared; I automatically refilled it before stowing it in my coat. So, he had been telling the truth, the toss of a coin had saved me, and I popped it into a pocket as well, with vague thoughts about talismans.
I redressed in my soiled clothes. I was weary, drained, empty, my feelings about Mulder, love, rage, and now fear - of him and for him, were like the far gleam of the sea when the tide has ebbed, leaving a vast plain of rippled sand.
He was sitting on the couch, blankly staring at the ruin of his television when I entered the lounge, but got up when he saw me. I pointed out the envelope on his table and explained where it had come from. He nodded, but didn't comment. I knew I had to talk to him about the twins as well.
"Mulder, if we re going on with this relationship, I want you to keep away from Siggy and Natalie, and any others that Fox is particularly friends with."
"Or else?" he asked quietly.
"No or else . I'm not threatening them, but being seen with us is a threat in itself. If they re spotted with both you *and* I, they re sure to be investigated, their private lives pried into. It wouldn't be fair to drag innocents into this business, and make our unscrupulous masters aware of them - I'm assuming they are completely ignorant of your work, by the way?"
"They don't know anything. They re hydrological engineers . flood control, groundwater pollution, aquifers, that sort of thing. They're on a government contract, but that's all our jobs have in common. I'll speak to them."
"Don't bother. I've already told Siggy not to get in touch. I tried to warn him, without saying why. Sounds like you d already put them on guard, though."
He glanced sharply at me, but tried to sound unconcerned as h