What Further Happened In The Cabin

<partial transcript of phone call>

RhymePhile: What do you mean, you left him there? You complete sadist.

Sunny: He didn't have a concussion. There was food and water. After seeing Alex's scars, that was pretty damned merciful of me.

RhymePhile: Well, you don't know what Michelle and Jasmin were doing.

Sunny: Oh, I know what they were doing. This was different. Oh, speaking of which, they did not want to let go of him. I had to threaten and scream and howl. But Alex calmed me down on the way. You know how he is. And as for Mulder, I'll send the med-evac copter up. He'll be gone by the time you get there.

RhymePhile: Don't bother. The poor guy needs some Tender Lovin'. Alex and I will take good care of him.

Sunny: Well, different strokes for different folks, he he he. Have fun!

<click>

A Cabin By The Shore Of Lake Ontario, Canada
Thursday, June 24, 1999
11:30 A.M.

RhymePhile's eyebrows rose at the shiny black Cadillac parked in the driveway. The door opened at her touch, the light glinting of the chrome-plated revolver in her hand.

The sweet sound of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata echoed throughout the apartment, marred only by the muffled cries of the bound and gagged man on the floor. She gently knelt down and took the cloth out of his mouth.

"Thank you." Mulder said gratefully. "Listen to me carefully. I'm an FBI agent. There is a very dangerous man here. You have to untie me so I can take him into custody."

Suddenly a sweet, low voice echoed from the bedroom. "Rhyme, sweetheart, is that you? Everything you asked for is here. You're not going to keep me waiting, are you?"

RhymePhile looked down at Mulder and smiled. "Of course, he's dangerous." She purred. "That's part of his charm. I'll untie you if you promise to be a good boy."

He glared up at her, his face a mixture of horror and hate. But the look slowly dissipated as she stood up and took off her blouse, the soft, sweet scent of her perfume rising off her young firm flesh.

"You're a good looking man yourself, Fox Mulder. I might even ask you to join us."

The sweat ran down his face, his eyes locked to her chest.

"Are you going to be good, now?"

He nodded, helpless in the dark trap of his own pent-up lust.

She gently untied him and led him across the living room by his tie.

Alex Krycek lay across the bed in a open black robe, wearing a specially designed pair of chocolate-flavored briefs. Beside him on the leopard-print fur was a silver tea tray with a piping hot teapot, cups, cream and sugar, a bottle of Hershey's genuine chocolate syrup, and a plate of homemade cashew shortbread, sweet and buttery.

He smiled invitingly as she walked in the bedroom, then scowled darkly as he saw who she'd brought with her.

"What's he doing here?"

She reached into her bra and held out her 'Get Alex Into Bed Free' card. "Look at Clause 2 on the back."

Clause 2 read: The redeemer of this card shall be entitled to whatever gives her pleasure, including the involvement of a third party, if desired.

"All right, I suppose. But if he gets out of line," he glared at Mulder, "all agreements are off."

"I can always settle with you later, bastard." Mulder replied. "Now, let's have our tea and see to this lovely young lady."

Rhyme poured the tea and passed around the shortbread.

<INSERT: Graphic sex scene. Since I don't really know exactly what my dear ListSister would do with two six-foot plus muscular men and a bottle of chocolate syrup, (though I have a pretty good idea) I will just fantasize about what I would do, and ask you all to do the same.>

Two hours later

RhymePhile awoke wrapped in the fur, her body still tingling with pleasure, a glob of chocolate syrup still in her hair.

She sighed estatically and went back to sleep.