Chapter Eight
Dying is easy it's living that scares me death
I want to be with you baby, slip me inside of your heart
Salmon Falls, CA
Skinner sensed the impatience in Garren as they walked further from the camp.
He stopped near the small river's edge and watched as Garren's eyes roamed
the bank, a flicker of unease in his tropical eyes. Though there was little
light now, neither man had any difficulty seeing. The stars were as bright
as Skinner had ever seen them, even as a child staring up to watch for
shooting stars or better yet, satellites. He stared up for several minutes,
seeking the serenity of his youth but not finding even a whisper of it.
"Ascendant." Garren growled. "Are you deliberately keeping me waiting?"
Skinner nearly smiled at the warning tone. For one who had followed Murdoch
around like a tame puppy for countless centuries, Garren was certainly sure
of his own position.
"No. Just thinking about how to begin," Skinner said quietly, reflectively.
"Best to start at the beginning and do it now! I would like to see my mate
for more than one quick look."
"He is what I want to speak to you about... one of the things anyway."
Skinner turned to face Garren, standing far enough away so that he didn't
have to crane his neck up to see the huge man's youthful face. A face of
angelic beauty.
Garren frowned. "You are not going to keep me from him, Ascendant. I am
warning you. I will not tolerate... "
"No. No I am not."
Garren frowned. He hadn't really expected to win this easily. The
ascendant, Skinner, was a powerful man, not one who would give up so easily.
The faint glow of red in the man's eyes reminded Garren that this was no
fatted calf led easily to the kill. He was immediately suspicious. "You
accept my claim then?"
"I do." Skinner kept his eyes focused on Garren's and let none of his
remorse show.
Garren's frown deepened. "Is this trickery?"
"No. I will concede him to you... if you will make certain he is safe."
Garren narrowed his eyes. "Do you insult me? I will always keep him safe.
More safe than you have kept Fox."
Skinner held back his anger. It wouldn't do to jump at any insult,
especially ones that were shaded with such truth.
"Then I charge you with his safety, Garren. Go! Take him tonight." Skinner
held his breath. What if the wolf didn't care for Alex as deeply as Skinner
suspected he did? What if Garren took up his offer and left with Alex,
unmindful of the bond between Fox and Alex?
Garren looked surprised. "Leave with him?"
Skinner looked impatient. "Yes. Do you think I want a reminder of my
failure? That I couldn't keep both him and Fox from Murdoch?"
"What does Murdoch have to do with this? He wants your Fox."
"He wanted Alex too. Or do you forget why you broke with Murdoch?"
Garren shook his head. "No, I do not forget. But he hasn't come for either
of them."
"Except in Fox's dreams... you knew Murdoch had such power didn't you?"
Garren took a deep breath. "He takes him to the dark place from which we all
come... it is no dream. He has taken Fox there already?" He was concerned,
though didn't show it. If Murdoch were to take Alex there, there would be
nothing he could do... not until Alex woke on his own or by some other force
and he would be forced to watch the whole thing. He felt his blood chill and
the hairs on the back of his neck rose just at the image of that. His eyes
blazed with anger and he shook his head.
"You smelled his blood," Skinner hissed. "Murdoch did that to him. I cannot
protect them both and the Gunmen too. Not and do my duty to balance things.
So take Alex, but know this. If you harm him I will come after you, Garren.
And your wolves will not save you."
Garren was still contemplating Murdoch when what Skinner had said sank in.
"You will give me Fox to take with Alex?"
Skinner laughed. "You are kidding aren't you?" He laughed again. "Wolves
have senses of humor after all."
"Alex is attached to Fox," Garren pointed out, trying to sound reasonable and
sounding impatient instead.
"Yes, well, he'll just have to suffer, for I am not giving you Fox as well.
Don't ask again." Skinner made as if to move away, but Garren took his arm.
"Are you trying to manipulate me into something, Ascendant? You know I will
not make Alex suffer," his voice was coming close to a hiss for all its bass.
"Manipulate? I give you Alex and ask you to leave. How is that a
manipulation? Don't you want him?"
Garren growled then. "You know Alex will not want to leave Fox. He
will... he will not be happy, Ascendant." Garren was frowning furiously at
Skinner.
Skinner felt some hope now. It was obvious that Alex was not just some
beautiful trophy to the pack leader. It made things easier to bear. A bit.
"And I am not giving you Fox. You better think of something, Garren"
Garren shook his head. "I will travel with you then. Alex will not be upset
if he can have Fox around. This would not bother me overly much." He
sounded arrogant when he said this, as if he was deigning to let Skinner into
his presence.
"I cannot trust you, Garren," Skinner said quietly. "You are still loyal to
Murdoch. And he is my enemy. If he gains in power, then everything I love
is in jeopardy. More, you know it and do nothing about it."
Garren smiled a bit then. "So this is what this is about. You want me to
turn away completely from Murdoch and you think to buy this with something
that already belongs to me. I am not a fool, Skinner. I have been alive
longer than your civilization, you cannot think to trick me. Do not try to
manipulate me."
Skinner had to smile then. Garren was a surprise. "You are right, I did try
to manipulate you. Let me be frank."
"It is time," Garren agreed, his eyes narrowed.
"I seek to protect what is mine. Also I seek to aid my brothers who
challenge Murdoch. You know why I do. It has been pointed out to me that to
be successful I need you. So I made a decision. A concession."
Garren tilted his head. "It was a risk, for as I have said, Alex is mine
already. You concede that, yes. But, you would have been forced to anyway.
I see that as no incentive to join you. I, unlike you, have no need for
allies against Murdoch. I can protect what is mine, and I have no cares or
worries about your brothers. Don't mistake me for one of the good guys,
Skinner."
Skinner shrugged, "I didn't mistake your intent or your history. I simply
thought to risk that you cared enough for Alex. Perhaps I was wrong. In any
case, if you are not an ally then you are an enemy. I do not travel with
enemies."
"You are a fool, Skinner. I need not be your enemy. I simply find no reason
to turn on Murdoch. It is not a reason to take Fox from my mate!" He was
pacing now, his irritation clear. "I will give you my word that I will not
aid Murdoch in any way." He smiled to himself then. Skinner would surely
accept that. He had to. He could not face the heartbreak taking Alex from
Fox would cause. When he had first taken him he had not cared. Alex had
simply been something he wanted to own. As his mate, he now deserved as much
care as possible.
"I see. But you will not help me keep him at bay, or to destroy him?"
Garren shook his head, the silky hair sliding forward. "If he attacks this
group then I will aid you in... "
"I need an ally, Garren. If you are not going to be one, then I assure you I
do not need your help in protecting this camp. Take Alex and go." Skinner
walked away, only to bump into Antonio who had sought them out. The two
ascendants shared a look, inscrutable.
"Don't push me, Skinner, I know full well that your Fox will not be pleased
with this either," Garren growled.
Skinner turned and let Garren feel his displeasure. Red eyes glared into
topaz and Garren was pushed back a few steps by the simple power of Skinner's
thoughts. "No, Garren, don't push me. I give you Alex because I can't
afford more enemies and I must think of the millions who scream for
protection. But, I will not abide someone near me who will not lift a hand
to help me. I know that Fox will hate this! I hate this. Do you think I
want to lose Alex? But I need your help."
Garren was incredulous. "Do you realize what I am? I slaughter humans, or
have you forgotten this? Those humans scream for protection from my kind.
The pack hunts, Skinner. They always have, they always will. Murdoch
understands this, embraces it. You would seek to end it. Because I have
care for my human mate does not make me an ideal ally. I will not forbid the
pack from hunting and know that you will seek to end it. I cannot allow
that. The pack is my responsibility every bit as much as Alex is."
Skinner drew a deep breath. Garren was actually sounding reasonable. It was
the first time the pack leader had spoken as if to an equal, as if he were
really trying to get Skinner to understand. "You are correct, but I don't
seek to control the world, Garren. Just to make sure that there are places
of safety... always."
"A balance," Antonio offered, his voice without inflection. He knew this was
the way, but was not overly excited by it.
"Yes," Skinner nodded. "Balance and safety."
"Places of safety from things like me," Garren insisted.
Skinner sighed. It was more than true. "But, your pack is not attacking
now... nowhere in my protection."
"Because they are frightened of your strength," Garren explained.
"So they go outside my protection to hunt?" Skinner asked, his voice
deceptive in its casualness.
"Yes," Garren growled before he realized what he had said. "So you are
willing to let the pack roam off your lands? As if the people there do not
need protection?"
"I cannot protect... was not meant to protect everyone, Garren. That is
what the balance is. It is the natural way. For every force there must be
an equal and opposing force. I seek only to stop Murdoch from unbalancing
everything as is his desire."
Garren looked away. "I will think on it, Ascendant. It seems a fool's
agreement. We are at cross-purposes. But I will think on it."
"That is all I ask for the moment."
"I give no promises," Garren warned.
"I'll give you one," Skinner said slowly, quietly, but with iron force. "I
will not let you stay if you decide against me."
"If you can even get the pack to go against Murdoch, that is," Antonio put
in, unable to stay his ire a moment longer. He felt as if he should have some
part in this discussion, even if it were a very small part.
"The pack will do as I command, Ascendant," Garren snarled. "I go to Alex
now. You will go to Fox?" This last bit he directed toward Skinner,
dismissing Antonio without a second glance.
Skinner nodded, wanting nothing more than to scream that Garren could not
touch a hair on Alex's head, knowing that Garren would do much more than
that. But he remained silent.
"You give him Alex and he does not even agree to help us?" Antonio asked
incredulously when Garren disappeared into the darkness. He was tempted to
simply disappear with both Alex and Dana and be damned the consequences. But
he was reluctantly convinced that Skinner was at least trying for the correct
balance. He only wished the wolf could be bought with some other toy. Not
the lovely Alex. But again, perhaps the wolf would share where Skinner would
not. He already seemed more than willing to share Alex with Fox.
"He will agree," Skinner sighed.
"How do you know?"
"Because everything depends on it. He must and that is it."
In the shadows nearby, unnoticed, Baku stood. He was well pleased by the
conversation, but not as certain as Skinner that things would go well. He
knew how to spur the pack leader on if he decided not to take up Skinner up
on his offer.
He would simply suggest to the young Alex that he could somehow harm Murdoch
were he to call to him. Of course, once the pretty, green-eyed man called to
him, Murdoch would come and take him. It would probably take Garren awhile
to rescue him, but Murdoch would effectively become Garren's enemy. In fact,
nothing would assure that more than the pretty mate being taken. There would
be nowhere for Murdoch to hide. He would have to kill every wolf on Earth to
end the war that would blow over him like no storm on Earth.
He didn't feel the slightest remorse when he considered what Alex would
endure in Murdoch's embrace. It was true to say that the good of the many
outweighed the good of the few. Far outweighed. It was also true that,
changed now like Walter's FBI Agent, Alex might very well like what Murdoch
did to him. Might like it quite a bit.
It was irrelevant in any case. The alliance must be forged. It must be.
And it must be made strong. Perhaps he would whisper in Alex's ear, come
what may.
He slid back into the scrub bushes and silently made his way back to the
Dorl's camp.
Salmon Falls, CA
Mulder woke with the distinct feeling that something was wrong. His breath
was catching as if waking from a frightening dream and his pulse raced.
Immediately he was aware of Alex beside him, gently breathing and some
measure of his unease was leveled. Alex was all right. He could make out
Alex's features by the light of the lamps lit outside the tent and he smiled
a bit to himself. If Alex knew how young and vulnerable he looked while
sleeping, he would surely never want to sleep again.
The sense of unease grew again and he immediately thought of Scully. Was she
safe? Surely Antonio would keep her close, but Scully was independent if
nothing else. Maybe something had happened to her. The idea that maybe
something akin to his experience with Mikhail or even worse, Murdoch, should
happen to her appalled him, made him almost physically ill.
Suddenly the need to find her, to make sure she was safe was too compelling.
More compelling than the heat of Alex beside him. He sat up and began to
look for his clothes, quietly so as not to disturb Alex. So sure was he that
he was silent that when Alex spoke he jumped a bit.
"What are you doing, baby?"
He shook his head and then patted Alex's thigh, trying to ignore how good the
muscled flesh felt under his hand. "Don't worry, just go back to sleep. I'm
going to go find Scully... have a chat... shoot the breeze. Partner stuff."
Alex chuckled a bit. "And here I thought I was your partner now."
Mulder smiled. "You are definitely my partner but, well, Scully is my
partner."
"I know," Alex assured, with a feline yawn and stretch that captivated Mulder
and, for an instant, made him forget all about his intention to find Scully.
"I was teasing. I don't have a problem with your relationship with Scully,
Fox. She's been a better friend to you all these years then anyone else."
Mulder nodded. "I'll be back soon."
"You better."
"I will."
"I'll get cold," Alex sighed, stretching again, this time letting one hand
trace down his torso; the tips of his fingers grazing the dark hair that grew
just below his belly button.
"Very soon. If I can warm you up when I get back," Mulder affirmed, his
voice gone husky with desire. He had to swallow several times as his eyes
made out the slow movements of Alex's hand. Wanting to beg Alex to put on a
show for him. Hungry for the sight of Alex's strong hand toying with
himself, to see those narrow hips pump up to the rhythm of Alex's fist. He
licked his lips quickly.
"That is the whole point of me saying it," Alex purred, arching his back a
bit, the movement thrusting his hips up lazily. "I want you to think of ways
to warm me up."
"I did get that, babe," Mulder chuckled, the beating rhythm of his heart
beginning to pound most predominantly in his groin. He stood, pulling on his
jeans, his every move watched by Alex who sighed in pleasure at the sight.
"You're so beautiful, Fox." His voice still held a certain amazement caused
by the sheer fact that Fox was with him at all. He felt a heaviness grow in
his groin, a steady thrumming that made him part his legs slightly. So like
his Fox, Alex realized with a grin. Parting his legs wide whenever he was
aroused. Little slut. His little slut, Alex amended with a silent growl.
It wouldn't take much to get Fox on his hands and knees, begging to be
fucked. He grew completely hard at the image.
Mulder shook his head. "You are seriously mirror challenged, babe. You
really are."
Alex laughed a bit. Fox said the oddest things. "Why is that?" He asked,
while still running his fingers around his lower belly, teasing the now wet
head of his cock in the darkness, hearing in his mind, Fox's voice,
whimpering, begging. God he smelled so good. So good.
"I'll tell you later, after I check in with Scully," Mulder promised. There
was still that feeling, the-little-hairs-on- the-back-of- his-neck-rising
feeling of something off... something wrong.
"I can hardly wait," Alex sighed. "But, what if I am too cold then to
listen?"
"Oh," Fox pretended to ponder while he put on his shoes. "It does tie in
with why I will love to warm you up. Yes, it definitely ties in."
Alex watched as Fox put on shoes, narrowing his eyes as Fox winced from the
pain in his abused nipples. "Fox."
Hazel eyes raised to his while hands still attended to the lacing of straps.
"Yes?"
"Don't wander far."
Irritation flashed on Fox's face and he tugged on the laces of the shoes a
bit harder then needed. "I do not intend to wander off like some child,
Krycek."
Alex raised a brow, unrepentant, secretly thrilled to be Krycek again. Fox
ruffled so prettily. "Good."
"Unless Scully isn't nearby," Fox finished with a challenging raising of
brows.
"Don't wander far, no matter what," Alex repeated. "Or did you not want me
to get rest?"
Fox took a steady breath, calming himself at the obvious threat of
accompaniment. "I'll be okay, Alex. I'm not going anywhere."
"Good," Alex repeated, not feeling the slightest guilt. Fox needed a keeper.
He didn't expect a reply and wasn't surprised when, after pulling on a
loose-fitting T-shirt, Fox left without another word. He lay there for
another moment or two and decided to get up as well. He was hungry. Fox
couldn't expect him not to eat.
Mulder saw Scully sitting on a large log near the small fire that had been
lit for ambience more so than heat. Space heaters sat around the camp, their
plugs uselessly trailing behind them, attached to nothing. Yet the small
devices glowed red with heat. He felt a chill at that, another reminder that
things weren't the same, would never be the same.
A sudden panic overwhelmed him. They were, all of them, concubines now. Did
it matter that Skinner was noble, handsome and gentle? Did he have a choice?
He knew that it was irrelevant. All of his concerns were. He had to start
thinking in the here and now. That was what he needed Dana for. She would
ground him, make him face reality. He couldn't help but feel a bit of envy;
she was perfectly content with the situation.
Though looking at her now, she seemed anything but content. Her lips were
pursed and her brows were raised to the limit as she sat, staring at her
clenched fists. Antonio was walking away into the darkness and he felt one
moment of guilty glee. Things weren't as peachy as could be after all.
He sat down beside her, expecting her to cheer a little at his presence,
feeling a cocky assurance that she would smile for him, if not for the
interloper.
She didn't. She only looked more distressed to see him. Her eyes opened a
bit wider and her lips parted only to slap closed in a straight, ungenerous
line.
He frowned, "What is it, Scully? What has he done?"
She shook her head to indicate that Antonio was not to blame, but Mulder was
not ready to let it go. "You look like someone fed your adopted dog
to... sorry, that wasn't really what I meant... "
"It isn't Antonio, Mulder. It's Skinner and that damn wolf!"
Mulder moved his head back in surprise. "Garren? He's here? Are they
fighting? Is Skinner... Walter... is he okay?" Mulder was moving to rise, his
heart beginning to beat out a steady tattoo of fear.
"No, they aren't fighting. They are probably in godly agreement about what
should happen to us mere mortals... Mulder!" she gasped, finally recognizing
that he had made a comment about her dearly departed dog. "You remembered
some more!"
"I remember everything, Scully. Down to the fish... God help the little guys
now. They have to be dead by now, don't you think?"
She smiled then, a radiant smile, one that he rarely saw. She grabbed him in
a hug and held him tight. "Oh, Mulder, that's wonderful!"
He wrapped his arms about her in return and grinned against her neck at how,
even in her exuberance, she was careful not to disturb his stitches. He
wondered, as he had so often in the past, why it couldn't have been her that
he loved. Now of course, he wouldn't give Alex up for anything... Skinner,
well he was a definite pleasing confusion, if he would but simply leave Alex
alone.
Alex stepped out of the tent and frowned a bit to see the two embracing
friends. He knew they were close, but the embrace was not ending and he
scowled. His attention was taken away from the overly friendly friends by
the appearance of a large man to his left. He stepped back and though he was
immediately alert to possible danger, the only thought that passed through
his head was that Fox had just trotted past the huge man without the
slightest knowledge of his presence. How the hell had he lived so long? He
truly did need a keeper!
The man stood then and Alex narrowed his eyes, recognizing him for a wolf as
soon as the man's eyes reflected the firelight in an amber beam. Only
animals had such reflection. Humans did not. The effect was almost
horrifying on a man who looked so human otherwise. It looked like two coins
alight, molten inside the sockets.
"Another wolf? Jesus, do you fuckers do nothing but breed?"
"I am Akael. I will be your protector."
"Oh shit! Well just stay out of my way. I don't need any help... "
"Do you need correction, I am certainly willing to inform my Garren," Akael
growled, unused to such contrary, undisciplined encounters. Even the Garren
as a pup was obedient to a certain extent. Disobedient, weaker charges
endangered themselves.
"If you feel the need, go right ahead," Alex sneered and turned to saunter
away, not even questioning his comfort around the beast he knew could rip him
from groin to sternum without blinking an eye. He had already accepted,
though not consciously, that Garren would never sanction any harm to befall
him from one of his pack.
"You will be an interesting charge," Akael finally said as Alex made his way
to the delicious male who smelled slightly of blood. That one, like all
changed humans must, looked as if he needed personal care, to be taken away
from all others and kept. Preferably kept close. Close enough to lick and
to taste. Close enough to hear the heart race in passion as he was taken
hour after hour after hour. Sweet, changed human.
But Akael was too old for such things. Not too old to enjoy them, but too
old to be carried away by them.
He stayed for love of his young Garren. He would stay as long as it took for
the pack leader to adjust to the new world and to having a mate to care for,
and then he would seek rest. He followed the mate and had to appreciate his
beauty. Not so changed as the other temptation, but beautiful still. He
stood a discreet distance away from where the mate had stopped. The three
males standing near the mate stared up at him nervously. Akael thought it
amusing. To these little men the mate was dangerous. Humans were very
amusing. They were afraid of Alex, but not of him. He who could tear their
skin from their flesh layer by layer and tear out their hearts, all before
they even knew he had moved. Yes, very amusing.
He chuckled, remembering the old Garren's mate, Dani, saying that humans were
the most interesting part of life. The old Garren had laughed at her,
something he had come to regret in the cold nights ahead, but Akael had
agreed. Humans were interesting.
When the pretty mate threw him a glare, he shook his head and tried to be
patient. The Garren would have to discipline this one, for he could not, not
without express permission to do so. And judging by the level of devotion
Garren was already showing, he didn't assume that permission would be
forthcoming.
After all, Garren knew first-hand how well Akael could discipline.
He sensed his leader's ire and confusion then and almost went to him, old
protective habits were hard to break, but he stayed by his new charge and let
things progress with the ascendants and Garren.
Mulder pulled away from Scully, smiling a bit. He saw Alex out of the corner
of his eye and he had to grin. The bastard really didn't trust him at all.
Their eyes met and Alex looked supremely indifferent, his jade eyes direct
and untroubled. Daring Mulder to comment on his being outside the tent.
Mulder grinned at him. "Brat," he mouthed.
Alex smiled suddenly, happy that Mulder wasn't disturbed. He didn't care
about the wolf Akael any more. He grinned at Frohike and patted Langly on the
shoulder. Langly gave a muffled shriek but held his ground with irrefutable
courage as Alex made his way to Mulder's side. He had had enough private
time with Scully. He straddled the log behind where Mulder sat and bent to
kiss his ear. "I was hungry," he explained.
"I see," Mulder chuckled. "It had nothing to do with being over-protective?"
Krycek grinned, boyishly, his eyes twinkling in the warmth of Fox's
affection. He kissed Mulder's cheek, right above his mole. "Nah, I don't
care what happens to you."
Mulder leaned his head back to look into Alex's eyes. "You don't?" His voice
was soft, tempting. As if his words were meant to be heard only by Alex,
though he didn't bother to whisper.
Alex nuzzled him, his nose cool on Fox's face. "Unh unh. Not at all." He
wrapped his arms about Fox's waist and squeezed. "Why would I care about an
old, ugly mud fence like you? A boring one too."
Mulder laughed and forgot completely about Scully, the Gunmen, the trees, the
wolves... everything faded away until all he saw was Alex. Beautiful, loyal
Alex. "God, I love you, Alex." His words were fierce, his eyes moist with
emotion. He would cheerfully kill for Alex, he knew then.
Alex squeezed him tighter. "You're damned right you do."
"And you kinda like me a little too," Mulder insisted, opening his mouth so
Alex could place a wet kiss there and sighing as Alex took advantage and did
just that.
When Alex pulled back and began to grin at Scully, Mulder elbowed him.
"I said 'and you kinda like me a little too!'" Mulder scolded.
Alex laughed and shook his head. "But, I don't." When Mulder started to
pull away in a pretended huff, Alex wrapped his arms tighter around Mulder's
waist. "You know I love you. More than anything." His voice was no longer
teasing. It was husky, but sincere. His words a prayer at a sacred altar. A
benediction. An oath.
Mulder believed him and favored him with a beautiful smile.
It made Alex want to cry.
Scully felt like screaming... like weeping. They were so in love it was
painful to watch. They glowed. She knew it was a silly, romantic thing to
say, but they did. They were staring into each other's eyes and she knew
that the camp could catch fire and they would not know. She had never seen
anything as tender as Alex's expression when he stared at Fox. Nothing.
Ever. It was as if Fox was the entire world and Alex would have it no other
way. And Fox? He looked happier than she had ever seen him, even in the
midst of all this insanity.
And she would have to tell them something that would tear that happiness
away. Garren was going to take Alex away.
Washington D.C.
Murdoch had taken a shower. Not cold, for he had slaves to tend to his
desire should he require that. No, the shower was hot, and he thought of
Fox's eyes when he had torn the marks of another from his tender, sweet
nipples. Such desire had shone there. Oh, one had to look beyond the pain
and fear, Murdoch mused. But, desire was there as well. Foxling remembered
the pleasure of Murdoch's bed. How many times had he cried out for more?
How many times had his pretty lips parted on the pleading that would bring
Murdoch close?
Too many times to discount.
Foxling belonged to him. As surely as did everything else. Was he not the
most changed? Yes. It was settled. As the one true Ascendant it was only
right that he receive the greatest gifts from the change. The green-eyed
Alex had been there trying to interfere. That one Garren claimed.
If he could take Alex then he could woo Garren. He frowned. It was
certainly unseemly for him to have to woo that which was his by right of
history. Wolves were the perfect tool though and so he must include the
sweet Alex in his plans.
Still, it irritated him to no end that Garren had dared defy him. Had dared
claim Alex. It was he who should command. He who always was obeyed. Hadn't
Garren always obeyed? It was infuriating when he considered. Perhaps
instead of wooing, Garren needed to be disciplined. Brought to heel.
He allowed his foxling alikes to dress him and he went to meet with a
representative from a man who claimed to be Foxling's father.
He thought of bringing Fox's mother to the meeting, but decided she would
rather dine alone as was her want to do. He instead had several videos sent
to her for her enjoyment. She had every luxury, every convenience, and still
she stared at him with eyes that even he found cold. He liked her.
Even had he not, she would have been treated well. She had given him Fox.
She was royalty, even if she didn't care.
As he walked to the room in which the messenger waited, he considered the
failure to find Walter Skinner's parents. They were, he assumed, dead. It
was another irritation in a string of like circumstances. The man needed to
be put in his place. Destroyed.
A smile lit his features when he considered the pig on a pike that graced the
balcony of his penthouse. The head of the African ascendant who had defied
him. One day, Skinner, he mused. One day.
Salmon Falls, CA
"Mulder, I have to tell you something," Scully muttered. When Mulder did not
seem to hear her she placed one, shaking hand on his arm. "Mulder!"
He turned to her, his attention now fully focussed on her, a worried frown
slowly taking over his smile in increments of concern. "What is it, Scully?"
He raised his brows as he remembered her first words to him. "Skinner and
Garren?"
Alex tensed behind him and Mulder heard his breath catch in his throat.
"Yes. Mulder, you and Alex... you should just go now. Just get some things
and go." Even as Scully said it she knew she wouldn't want him to go. It
was too dangerous... even for men like Krycek.
"What is it, Scully?" Alex asked soothing Fox by little strokes on his arms
and small rubs of his cheek onto Fox's.
"Skinner is... he is... " Scully looked away.
"What?" Alex and Fox sad together.
"What is it?" Byers asked, as all three Gunmen moved close.
"Giving you to me, cat," Garren said from the edge of the camp. The firelight
lit his golden hair and for an instant every member of camp was struck by his
otherworldly beauty.
Until his words were dissected and understood.
"What?" Mulder gasped. "What did you say? What did he say, Scully?"
"You heard me, little Fox," Garren said casually. Deceptively so, for he was
watching Alex's reaction carefully.
"He... he wouldn't," Alex whispered. Struck by what he knew to be true.
"He... he wouldn't."
Mulder rose, his eyes burning, a forest afire. "You are lying. Skinner
wouldn't do that!"
"Mulder, he did," Scully cried, coming to her feet. Fear that Mulder would
launch himself at the big wolf moving her to grab his arm protectively.
"No!" Mulder barked, shaking off her hand. "No, he wouldn't!"
"He did," Garren assured him. "Alex is my mate, little Fox. You would do
well to realize it now."
The fact that his voice was devoid of taunting, or any other indication that
he was bragging, simply made Fox tremble even more in anger. Garren acted
like he felt almost sorry for him.
"He wasn't Skinner's to give, wolf man!" Frohike glared. "He's his own
person, and I didn't hear him say he wanted to leave us... to leave Mulder."
The little man was pumped up with rage as he looked around the camp. "Did
anyone else hear Krycek say that he wanted to leave?"
The other two Gunmen shook their heads.
"I'm not leaving," Alex hissed. "I don't care what Skinner may or may not
have said." He stood and wrapped his arms back around Fox's waist.
"Skinner did not do anything of the sort," Mulder insisted. "He didn't."
"I did." The voice from the shadows startled them all, save for Garren and
the older wolf who seemed incredibly bored by the events.
Mulder shook his head. "No. No you didn't."
"I did, Fox. I had to."
"It was for the best. For everything," Antonio added as he took his place at
Skinner's side.
"The hell you say," Mulder spat.
"You... you gave me to him?" Alex whispered. There was a wealth of hurt in
his voice and Skinner looked away.
Mulder turned to Alex and touched his face in reaction to the hurt tone. His
anger burned brighter still when he saw that lost little boy yet again on
Alex's face. "Baby. Baby... " He had no words to make Skinner's betrayal
less. He could only say. "I won't give you up."
Alex was opening his mouth to reply when he was plucked from Fox's embrace
and held close to Garren. "You will not hurt any more, Alex. I won't forbid
you to see Fox."
Mulder moved to rip Alex from Garren's embrace, but felt himself go slack,
frozen, unable to move as Garren cradled Alex to him. Blue topaz met Fox's
wide, furious eyes.
"When he has accepted this, then I bring him to you. For now, this is too
much stress," Garren said as he turned to leave.
Frohike lunged at Garren and was immediately batted aside by the older wolf.
Alex cried out in anger to see his friend fall to the ground and Garren
turned his head toward Akael who stood over the still furious little man.
"Don't," he ordered.
It was enough to make Akael turn, forgetting Frohike's attack, and follow.
Alex wouldn't scream or struggle. It would be too humiliating. Garren
paused beside Skinner. "I take him just a short ways away. Tomorrow perhaps
he will spend time with Fox. Is that acceptable for you?
"It is," Skinner husked. He wanted to avoid Alex's eyes, but felt he should
give Alex the chance to show his anger, his hurt.
When he met Alex's eyes there was no expression at all.
Absolutely nothing.
He was the cold assassin once more.
When the wolves faded into the darkness with Alex, Skinner released Mulder
from his hold.
Immediately Mulder made to go after him. He was frozen again, this time
tears made their way down his face. At least part of him was not controlled
by the ascendant.
When Skinner released him again he tried to lunge at Skinner. "How could you
do this?" Mulder cried, as he was grabbed and held tight in Skinner's arms.
"I'm sorry, Fox," Skinner whispered against Mulder's fragrant hair. "So
sorry. I love him, too."
"Bullshit!" Mulder lashed out and won his freedom only to try and follow
Alex again.
"Mulder," Scully commanded her voice firm, incontrovertible after Mulder had
been frozen and released in a horrible series that seemed would never end. A
scene that all the members of camp were watching with some level of despair.
He turned to her, his expression showing his mutiny.
"Stop. Just stop. You can't change this." When her words settled, they both
stared at one another. "You can't fix this, Mulder."
"Scully, I... what do you want me to do? I can't let him take Alex. I
love... "
"Wake up, Mulder. Do you think this is the same world we were in just a
month ago? Do you think I want this? Do you think the Rat... Krycek does?
None of us chose this, but you can't fight... not now."
Mulder felt a hand on his arm and looked into Antonio's dark gaze. "Skinner
did not do this to hurt you, or Alex. It wasn't about you at all."
"Antonio," Skinner warned.
"No. He should know," Antonio growled. "Right now, as we speak, Murdoch has
the head of one of our brothers. He has him as a trophy. This man, this
ascendant who stood, like Skinner to give shelter to the people of his
country. To defend against Murdoch's forces that would come in the night to
feed on them."
At Mulder's mutinous expression Antonio sighed. "Murdoch will continue until
only the ascendants who aligned with him stand, and then the world will be
his. Do you understand what that means, Fox?"
Fox frowned, too angry to care. "So what does that have to do with selling
my lover? Is that the kind of world you two are fighting for? Where slavery
exists? I think I might prefer Murdoch's. At least he is honest about what
he wants."
"You don't mean that," Skinner said softly. "You wouldn't be able to watch
as millions were slaughtered."
Mulder wouldn't look at him. Didn't want to hear the truth of those words.
"People are being gathered together in herds, Fox," Antonio continued. The
old that survived the opening are being burned. The infirm are being fed to
the beasts. The beautiful are being brought to breeding camps. They must
worship Murdoch's followers, abase themselves in front of their family, their
friends, in order to survive. In D.C. Murdoch has hundreds of slings set up
in which men and women are set to be tortured, publicly. Children are put in
rooms with hungry dogs... for the amusement of the Pure bloods. There are
things that hunt that would make those that have come for you seem docile."
He paused as Mulder seemed to pale.
"That's enough, Antonio," Skinner growled, seeing Fox's pretty face go white.
"No, it isn't. Do you remember when we arrived in Fort Bragg? The old woman
who only had a bloody cane to remind her of the husband that wolves had
eaten? Do you remember the faces of the survivors? Do you remember their
faces after Skinner took control and forced the hunters out?" When Mulder
refused to answer. He grabbed him and shouted in his face, "Do you remember?"
Skinner took Fox from Antonio. "It isn't his responsibility, Antonio. It is
ours."
"Yes, but does he understand that responsibility? Does he think you gave
Alex away for laughs? Does he realize the sacrifice you made?"
"Antonio, that is quite enough," Scully said quietly.
The firelight illuminated the faces of all the remaining in the group.
Maggie Scully was wiping tears from her face and Frohike was staring moodily
into the fire. Langly and Byers were looking at Antonio with as much
hostility as they did Skinner.
Mulder looked sick. Both Antonio and Skinner were looking at Dana Scully.
She was furious. "You. Both of you," she hissed. "You," she said, pointing
to Skinner, "you could have warned them... could have prepared them and
explained your reasoning. You say you want to help the world? Fine, but
start by treating Mulder like a human being, not some reluctant child you
need to lead around by the hand. And you," she growled, turning cerulean
fire on Antonio. "You act as if this is Mulder's fault! Would you have
given me up so easily to save the world? Would you even care? Because
Mulder isn't a God like you two, you think he doesn't have feelings? To Hell
with you both!" She grabbed Mulder's arm. "Let your godlike compassion keep
you both warm tonight. Come on, Mulder," she hissed, propelling her still
stunned partner away and toward the tent she had staked out as her own.
A few seconds after the two partners disappeared into the tent, several
articles were ejected quite violently. All Antonio's.
Skinner and Antonio blinked in surprise. They felt the eyes of the rest of
the group on them and though they knew the decision had been correct, they
felt the censure almost too heavily.
"You shouldn't be able to sell people," Frohike growled, before getting up
abruptly, wiping suspicious moisture from his face. "If I could, I'd go
after Krycek and bring him back to Mulder. But I am just a mere human and so
I can't." With one last glare, he stormed off toward another tent. The
other two gunmen nodded in perfect agreement, as if they had said the words
and they turned to follow Frohike away from the light.
Maggie sighed, shook her had a bit and made her way too, silently toward the
small tent that was her own.
"They don't understand. They can't. They are only humans," Antonio
complained.
Skinner wanted to disagree, but it was true. They were only humans. Not
able to see all that he and Antonio could see. Not able to hear the screams
of the tortured. He wished he could simply be human again as well.
McClellan Air Force Base
"He isn't reasonable. The clone likes personal attention," Dr. Jack Morson
complained to his fellow scientist as he watched the clone touch everything
in the room that had been prepared for his use.
The clone turned and held out a clock toward the two scientists. "Time," he
proclaimed proudly. "Time, time."
"He is so adorable too," Dr. Mark Namble added, his voice petulant and
adoring at the same time.
"Indeed. So proud of every accomplishment," Morson agreed.
They both sighed as the clone set the clock down and picked up a hardbound
book. He frowned a bit, the full lips pursing with his concentration.
"Book."
"Very good!" the two scientists crowed, startling the clone, but causing him
to smile happily.
A full, lower lip was drawn in slowly, nibbled on to a chorus of sighs as he
flipped open the book he held, but he was thinking of what the two men had
said. "Good? Very good. Good boy?" he asked looking down toward his now
covered crotch.
"Oh Lord," Dr. Morson moaned. "So responsive and eager to please. Why are
we just standing here? Surely it is a confusion to the sweet thing."
"You were right," Dr. Namble agreed as the clone seemed confused by his now
flaccid state, "he is unreasonable. We wouldn't hurt the dear boy."
"God forbid! We only want to make him happy and well-adjusted."
"See how he smiles at us? He truly does want us to play some more."
The clone set down the book and knelt to look under the bed. He shook his
head when he found nothing and moved on to the next item.
"He certainly is curious," Dr. Morson sighed. "He will find out all
about... sex soon enough. Why not now?"
"It isn't like he is a child. He is fully matured." The clone knocked into
table and watched as a glass figurine of a porpoise almost fell to the floor,
without trying to stop it, having no idea that things would break.
"Careful, little Fox," Dr. Morson cautioned.
The clone stooped suddenly and looked confused. "Fox?"
"Yes that is your name sweetheart," Namble informed him, unable to prevent
himself from drawing near.
The clone shook his head. "Not Fox. Human. Male."
The scientists chuckled together and moved close to pet the frowning clone.
"It is a name, an appellation, sweetheart. Your name is Fox. You aren't a
fox," Dr. Morson was kind enough to explain while he pushed a lock of hair
out of wide, hazel eyes.
"Well, my generation would have called you a fox," Dr. Namble said.
"Don't confuse him," Morson barked.
The clone tilted his head, processed the information, nodded and turned away
from the two men to continue exploring his world with boundless enthusiasm.
He picked up a shoe and smelled it, shook his head and wrinkled his nose.
"It's a leather shoe," Namble explained. When the clone smiled at him, he
was forced to move closer, to touch the full mouth, to trace the mole with a
finger.
"Face," the clone supplied, thinking to touch the doctor's face. Realizing
for the first time in its young life that touch seemed a part of
communication.
"You see, Morson?" Namble panted. "He simply wants us to make him feel good,
to spread him out on the bed and take him to heaven. He knows! Look at him,
he is practically begging for it."
The clone blinked and moved toward the silent television, unaware that he was
apparently on the brink of begging the two men to pleasure him. "Oven... no."
He shook his head resolutely. "What is this?"
"He asked a question. A real question," Dr. Morson exclaimed, for one moment
his scientific mind aflame with the reality of their success. This clone was
getting off to a great start, despite having an odd genetic structure. Odd?
Hell, one never before seen in nature. One he had it on good authority that
the aliens had never seen in all their millennium of conquering.
They were changed from normal humans somehow. Beautifully so.
McClellan Air Force Base
Bill Mulder watched carefully the men handling his sons. They weren't really
his sons, but they were. The same feeling of unreality that he felt upon
seeing the first clone of his daughter washed over him. Of course his son
wasn't dead like his daughter had been so after that first successful
cloning, but even still it was odd.
They looked like his son. They were inspecting everything around them and it
made him chuckle a bit. How like his son. So curious. Too curious.
Beautiful too. He felt proud that he had created something so lovely. He
frowned as a clone stumbled and stubbed his toe on one of the cots. The
instant tears and hurt look on its face as it looked around in search of an
answer to the sudden pain in his foot caused Bill to straighten his back
sharply.
The clone was whimpering and looking at the injured toe, poking a finger at
the flap of skin it had damaged and looking to his curious brothers for
assistance.
Murdoch would teach them quickly about pain, he knew. It was for the
betterment of the world. If he did not make some arrangement with Murdoch,
then the aliens might well depart... without any clue as to how to power their
technology. The world would be run by the ascendants... good or bad.
It would be better for the world to have men who knew how to run things, run
things. He smiled then. Yes, it was worth it.
He watched as the other three clones gathered about their quieting brother
and sit near him, unsure what to do to help him, but all staring at the
offending toe with identical expressions of dismay.
They had each other, Bill decided.
"Get them ready. We leave as soon as possible." He didn't look at the older
man he spoke to, but instead watched the four clones. "I want them to learn
to clothe themselves, clean themselves and attend to themselves. They can
practice speaking as well. But, make it a fast learning experience, Dr.
Thomas, we leave in exactly thirty-six hours."
Though there was no visible reaction to Bill's words the handlers and
scientists alike were unsure they could perform such a feat. When Bill
Mulder left he indicated that the young guard at the door attend him, leaving
the men in the room to hurry to the clones in anticipation of a crash course
on adult life.
To the guard Bill held up one finger. "I want a full compliment of guards at
this door at all times. No one is to touch these clones in an intimate way.
Is that understood?"
The guard nodded, rather confused as to why anyone would. "Of course not,
sir."
Bill knew the young guard had yet to be in the clones presence long enough to
feel the effect, an effect even he wasn't immune to. It was only his sense of
duty and the fact that the clones might as well be his own son that stayed
his impulse to lie with one or more of them, to taste their sweet, soft
flesh. To put his face in their crotches and lap hungrily. He was growing
hard, iron hard. But, he walked away. They would be virgins when Murdoch
took them. He didn't trust any of the handlers or the lovesick scientists to
be as strong as he.
"Shoot anyone who tries. Anyone."
The guard nodded again, his brown eyes serious and intent. "Yes, sir."
Bill made his leave and was already thinking of something else when the guard
radioed in for backup. He was going to have to deal with Spender soon. A
small smile curved his lips. He did enjoy sparring with his old friend. It
was one constant in an otherwise unstable world.
Salmon Falls, CA
Garren set Alex down in the middle of a small clearing. The ground was hard
and stony, as unforgiving as Alex's stare. Garren cared little for comfort,
the hard ground was as good a bed as any, better if the moon was full and
beautiful. It was waning now, the pull not so insistent, but enough to make
a night outside preferable to one inside. His mate, however, might not be
comfortable.
He commanded that supplies be gathered... some sort of mat... perhaps a pillow.
"You needn't look so despondent, Cat, you will see Fox tomorrow," Garren
promised as he pulled Alex down with him, setting him on his lap like a
child. Though he knew Alex would not be able to see him clearly in the
darkness, he saw the jade eyes flash at him. For only a moment though was
there the customary fire. Garren was uneasy to see that Alex's expression
was devastated. He knew Alex would not reveal his emotions if he knew how
well Garren could see him, so he said nothing to indicate that he could see
the sorrow on the pretty face. Instead, he tried to assure him again.
"Cat, I promise not to keep you from him."
Alex shook his head and Garren realized why his mate was hurting. "It is
because the ascendant gave you away? That he didn't fight for you? This is
why you hurt?"
The expression on Alex's face was one of utter surprise at Garren's
perception and then anger. "What do you care? You got what you wanted?
Don't pretend you give a shit. You are just like him... you think I am stupid
enough to believe that you actually care!"
"Cat, I could not leave you with him. You understand. You would not be
happy. You are bonded to me now. You have to be with me. You have felt
this certainly."
Alex tensed, but didn't try to draw out of Garren's embrace. He didn't even
think of trying to leave those strong arms. It was somehow so comforting and
so right to be held close to Garren, smelling the scent that was his alone.
"I belong with Fox. You know it... I know it... Skinner, the traitor, knows
it."
Garren chuckled as Alex turned to put his face in the crook of Garren's neck
as he spoke those feisty words, snuggling closer and sighing as he did so.
His actions did not match his defiant words.
"You are where you belong now, Cat." He kissed the top of Alex's head.
"But, I will concede that your love for Fox is exceptional. All other
attachments would have long since been buried in the passage of our bonding.
That you still keen for him tells me this. This is why I will not allow him
to be kept from you."
"What in the hell are you talking about?" Alex grumbled. He was becoming
uncomfortably aware that he was becoming stimulated by Garren's scent, that
he was starting to imagine what the two of them could be doing. The memory
of the field; of Garren, so beautiful in the moonlight, inside him. He
moaned and shifted a bit on Garren's lap.
Garren smelled Alex's arousal and was immediately aroused in response. "We
are bonded now," he repeated pushing Alex back and sliding over him slowly.
Growling as Alex moaned. "You feel it... the need. The scent of me driving
you crazy-the thought of me... "
Alex whimpered in response. His emotions a bitter turmoil.
"It is the bonding-from the first night when I infected you with my spore,"
Garren assured him.
Alex gasped, eyes wide in the darkness. "What?"
"The spore that binds us all together as a pack-and binds our mates to us,"
Garren explained, smiling a bit as his pretty little cat looked as if he were
close to spitting. "It is particularly, and deliciously, effective on
humans." He bent and tongued the healed wound, the slide of his tongue over
the spot making Alex cry out in sheer lust. "Here is where I put it, and
here will always be erogenous for you, Alex." To prove it he slid his
tongue, wet and hot, over the spot several times, making Alex forget all
about spitting and made him purr instead.
"You will never be free of it, my little mate. You see?"
"Shut up, Garren, and just take off your clothes-take off mine-please," Alex
pleaded-everything fading in importance with shameful speed-all his concerns,
his hurt and even, for the moment, his need for Fox. Inside he cried out
against such abandonment of that which he held most dear, but he was helpless
in the wake of some incredible tide of lust for Garren.
Spore.
What did it matter for now? For now all he wanted was for Garren to show him
how rough he could be, to take him in the dark, on the cold, hard ground.
But Garren was kissing him gently, almost reverently. Stroking the column of
Alex's throat with long, strong fingers. Testing the pulse there with the tip
of his tongue. Nipping slightly with strong, white teeth, ever careful not
to break the skin. Garren trailed his right hand down Alex's back while his
left still attended the pretty face, stroking the black stubble on the
angular jaw and tracing the darker brows. He captured Alex's mouth in a wet
kiss, slow and gentle.
"I will never give you up, Alex. No force on Earth could make me do that. I
would as soon have every human slaughtered as give you up."
Alex shivered at he husky promise. Garren would keep that vow too he knew.
He felt the assault of tenderness as if it were a violent rape. If he could
not even pretend that he had no choice, even while he was begging for more,
then how could he ever look Mulder in the eyes again?
"Not like this," he gasped as Garren's mouth slid smoothly down his throat in
search of his erect nipples. "Please-oh God-Garren, not this way."
Garren stilled, his mouth hovering above Alex's chest, his hands still
cradling Alex's body, one beneath his back to keep the frail, human body off
the rocky ground, the other under his head. His eyes glowed in the ambient
light and for an instant Alex could see the contours of Garren's face in that
strange blue light. Gas flame eyes. Burning blue.
"What way is that, Cat?" Garren bent and nipped at the clothe-covered
nipple, partially listening to the distant howls of pack members; their song
was one of frustrated desire. The pack wanted to hunt, even if it meant
hunting other hunters, tracking down and devouring anything that would bleed.
He sent the majority of the pack away-toward hunting grounds. Akael, he
knew, would not leave, nor would those that had been sent to fetch the items
his mate would require. He didn't dwell in his happiness at seeing his old
guardian, his focus was for his mate. With that he tuned out all but the
sounds of Alex gasping, the sound of his thighs sliding together in
anticipation. "What way, my sweet Alex?"
"Gentle," Alex panted, feeling the incredible hardness of Garren's body, the
sheer size of it, pressing down on him, but somehow not pressing him into the
dirt.
Garren could hear the desperation in Alex's voice. His mate was falling and
trying desperately not to.
"Take me as the wolf," he panted making Garren rub against him in a fury of
desire.
"No," Garren growled. "Not yet, Cat-not here. You aren't ready for that. I
might hurt you without intention."
"Please," Alex whispered, some wild need driving him to wrap himself around
the massive beast that was Garren changed, anything save this gentle beast
whose every touch broadcasted his adoration.
"In time," Garren promised as he shredded Alex's clothes from him with hands
that were suddenly claws. The scrape of them on Alex's flesh, gentle and yet
eliciting fevered moans. "We have all the time in the world." And those
words too were a promise.
Salmon Falls, CA
Scully stared at her partner, wondering at his sudden calm. The hazel eyes
were narrowed in contemplation, but his expression did not reveal the studied
concentration, some people insisted he looked dazed, not her, that he usually
displayed when truly trying to solve a particularly devilish problem. She
shifted on her thick, air mattress and let him think for a few more silent
moments.
"Mulder?"
He looked at her and she realized that his calm, rather studied expression
was in fact shock, a true daze.
"Mulder, since this has begun we haven't had time to talk... so much... so much
has happened since we returned from Berkley. I mean we have just been bowled
over by events and haven't really even stopped to consider what they mean-or
better yet-if they can be challenged."
Mulder's expression changed a bit, he was listening to her intently.
"We were closing in on The Mediggo... we were," she insisted.
"We were too late, Scully. In case you haven't seen the paper, the score was
Mediggo seven, world zip," Mulder said with only an obligatory sarcasm.
She smiled gently. "Yes, I did notice that. But, my point is this. If we
were able to uncover something before... say a weakness... maybe we could have
stopped it."
"So? What good does that do us now?"
"So, maybe a weakness is a weakness. Whether the change-or whatever happened
or not. It isn't like you to just accept things you realize."
He almost grinned then. "I do remember that from a hundred years ago."
She sighed. "Okay, so maybe Skinner and Antonio and these other-never before
seen of brothers are the only ones who can confront Murdoch, but maybe not.
Why can't we talk to Baku ourselves? Why are we letting the game play out
while we sit on the sidelines?"
"You want to take charge, Scully?" Fox was incredulous. It wasn't like they
were the same-as if anything were the same.
"What? You like being the little woman?" Her voice was quiet, but her eyes
were a challenge.
He frowned. "No! Of course not, but I-"
"But nothing. I am not fool enough to suggest we go off on a fact-finding
mission on our own, but dammit, we can at least speak to Baku. Understand
this thing. Find out what role he plays."
"Yeah and maybe I will even wear that damn medallion he gave for me to wear.
He gave one to Alex as well." At the mention of Alex's name, Fox's eyes
dipped to the floor of the tent. "I didn't trust the old man enough to wear
it, but he swears it will keep whatever is changed about us from showing."
She brightened. "You think they work?"
"I don't know, Scully. I tossed them in a bag somewhere. Why?"
"They could help us."
He stared into her determined eyes and realized what she meant. If they
could pass as normal people, they would get into less trouble... especially in
the area that Skinner was protecting. He smiled, the old investigative
juices percolating up from the artesian well of his curiosity. "We could
even... wander... a bit in a reconnaissance mission to find Baku."
She pursed her lips and tried to look disapproving. "Sneak out?"
He nodded. "Maybe find out something about the bastard that has Alex."
She met his gaze and the two sat in silence for a moment in perfect
communication.
"Then it's settled?" she asked.
"Yes, just give me time to find the medallions. I think they are in one of
the bags Alex grabbed when we left Fort Bragg. I think so anyway."
She sighed. "Mulder, you shouldn't go get them tonight. Not tonight.
Skinner will want to... to talk."
"To hell with him," Mulder growled, surprised when Scully did indeed look
disapproving. "What? You saw what he did! He gave Alex away!"
"Yes, I saw. But I also know he wouldn't have ever done such a thing without
a good reason. Not," she held off Mulder's protest, "that I agree with the
way it was done. But, Mulder neither of us really knows what the hell is
going on. But I do know this. Skinner has never seemed the type to do
something out of spite. He is honorable-"
"Scully, he gave Alex away! Are you getting that? He gave him away to
something that rips humans apart without a second thought. A werewolf for
God's sake!"
She sighed and settled down on her sleeping bag. "I know. I don't understand
it either. I am just saying... "
"That Skinner wouldn't do something like that? Well, he isn't exactly the
same Skinner we knew is he? He is some sort of part of this. I still have
yet to get a decent answer as to what he and Antonio were actually doing when
they went to "close" things. I know he didn't want to give Alex away, but
the fact remains that he did. End of story."
Scully stared at her partner for a long time before nodding. "Another reason
not to go traipsing out right now to look for the medallions."
"If not now, when?" Mulder asked.
"Just before dawn. Maybe everyone will be asleep," she replied. "We should
get some sleep ourselves."
He looked incredulous. "Me? Sleep? With Alex out there being raped-"
"We both know that isn't what is happening, Mulder," Scully cut in. "At
least be honest with yourself about that. While you were gone, I hate to say
it, but Alex was never far from Garren and he liked it that way." At
Mulder's hurt look she hastened to add, "Of course he was going crazy for
wanting you back, but-I don't know-he is attracted to Garren."
Mulder recalled Alex's words at the river's edge, the intensity in his voice
and eyes as he hissed that yes he did want Garren, that he did wonder when he
would see him again. No, Alex wasn't being raped. He felt the wind go out
of his sails. Would Alex even want to come back? "Garren did something to
Alex. I am almost certain," he mumbled. "It is the only thing that makes
sense, Scully. I know he loves me."
Scully nodded. "We will get to the bottom of it, Mulder. I promise. Now,
please, let's try to rest." She patted the sleeping bag near to her, the one
that would have been zipped up with hers to make one big sleeping bag should
Antonio still had been welcome, but which was still only a solitary bag at
the moment.
Mulder crawled toward it. "I won't sleep," he warned as he slipped under the
flap of the warm bag.
"Just try," she wheedled turning her back on him and snuffing out the Coleman
lantern. In the darkness she heard him disrobing, and the scent of him made
her flush. She diligently suppressed the sudden desire and closed her eyes.
Mulder heard her breath even out, the way she shifted one last time before
sleep overtook her with the suddenness of the very drunk or very young. He
had always envied that in her. She could stay up all night if she had too,
but she could fall asleep on a dime. He was certain that he would be unable
to sleep.
Too much had occurred. There were too many questions-too many
uncertainties-how could he ever sleep?
The memory of Garren in the woods as the Schell burned-Alex's solicitous
concern for the beautiful, deadly creature and the surety that Alex wanted
Garren were stimulants that would not release his mind from the frenetic pace
he was sure to be caught in.
Still, despite his concerns, his body shut down. Sleep claimed him utterly.
Cradled him in uneasy dreams and did not release him until fingers of light
began to make their steady way from the eastern sky-pale fingers that scraped
at the starlit blackness with such stealth that, though there was no true
division between night and morning, within minutes the stars were banished
and gray shadows grew from darkness.
Salmon Falls, CA
After orgasm came sanity, with sanity came regret. Lying atop Garren's body
Alex shivered though not from the cold. Misinterpreting his shiver Garren
made some small noise and shadows detached themselves from larger ones and
Alex was startled to find two more wolves come upon them bearing things in
their arms. Garren dismissed them with a look and set about making a place
for Alex to sleep. He spread out several pads and blankets and lowered Alex
onto them.
"If you get cold in my arms, Cat, more blankets can be brought. If you
hunger or thirst you need only say so and I will make sure you are satiated,"
Garren growled softly, nuzzling Alex's cheek with his full lips.
Alex let himself be drawn into Garren's warm embrace, spooned up in front of
the huge man, covered with insulated blankets he closed his eyes and tried to
block out just how whorish Garren could make him act. How quickly his ploy to
be taken roughly had been dismissed by Garren and how he relished every
minute of the slow seduction until Garren had taken him hard, had made him
beg for more. Had made him buck and scream, filled so tight he wanted to die
with pleasure.
Simple kisses had turned to long strokes of Garren's tongue over Alex's body.
Clothing shed and every bare inch investigated. He had stared up at the
star-lit sky and licked his lips, spreading his legs in anticipation of
Garren's caress, that huge hand travelling down his belly causing his flesh
to squirm away with an overly-sensitive speed.
"You taste so sweet, Cat, you taste so sweet," Garren choked out.
Alex wanted to taste Garren, wanted to kneel between the muscular thighs and
suck on Garren's erection all night. He licked his lips again, just imaging
that. He could taste the musk in his mouth, could feel the way Garren's
narrow, muscular hips would slowly bump upwards, pulling his cock in and out.
"I want to taste you," Alex whispered making Garren moan. "Please let me
taste you." He met Garren's lips, which had descended on him with sudden
lust and their tongues lashed together plunging into the hot recesses back
and forth, mating as surely as the two men would later.
Alex sucked on Garren's tongue, hard, bobbing his head a bit to imitate that
action, which he longed to perform. He broke away, gasping. "Slide up here,
Garren. Please. Oh God I want to taste you. I want you in my mouth. Now."
Garren had taken Alex's discarded clothes and made a pillow to place under
Alex's head before he stood and disrobed. Even in the dim light Alex could
make out the magnificent form. Garren was nothing short of male perfection.
Massive and powerful and yet strangely sleek, dangerously graceful. And his
erection was a dark club in the night.
Alex wanted it. Needed it more than was normal.
Spore?
If so, he didn't care. Not one bit.
Garren lowered himself down, teasing Alex by rubbing the tip of his cock over
Alex's belly, his ribs, his nipples, first one and then the next, sliding his
wet head over the rubbery flesh making Alex begin to pant.
Garren chuckled. "Are you so eager, mate?"
"Y-yes. God, yes," Alex hissed. Not satisfied until Garren slid up,
supporting his body over Alex with one arm, using the other to feed Alex's
open, hungry mouth, his cock.
"Then take it, Cat, take it," Garren growled, hissing in pleasure as the heat
of Alex's mouth received him. Liquid fire and hot velvet tongue.
Alex's mind blurred, events crowding together. How long had Garren crouched
over him, moving himself in and out of Alex's avaricious mouth? Not long
enough for when he pulled back, greatening with pleasure, Alex had tried to
grasp the impossible hard thighs and force Garren's cock back into his mouth.
Wanting to taste the hot seed that was surely just about to spill.
Garren's belly was shivering with denied pleasure and his chest heaved.
"Stop, Alex. Stop or I will spill my seed now."
"But I want you to," Alex whined, lifting his head to follow the wet cock,
but being held back easily by Garren. The strength in that hand no longer
frustrated Alex, it turned him on. He really was helpless with Garren. He
wasn't dangerous to him, wasn't even a slight threat. Quite simply Garren
was the most deadly thing Alex had ever met. He would never flinch at Alex's
anger or fear his moods. Consequently he would never be prone to leave him
should the fear ever become too much. There was something utterly freeing in
that.
"I want to come inside you, Cat. Deep inside you," Garren growled.
Alex was immediately assuaged. "Oh."
Garren chuckled at the eager note in his cat's voice. What a little baggage
he was. Of course he would be scratching and spitting in the morning, but at
least he didn't smell of hurt for the moment. Garren frowned thinking of
that scent and then turned his attention back to their mutual pleasure.
"I am not going to let you sleep at all tonight, Alex. I intend to show what
it means to be mated to a wolf."
Alex had purred. He had begun to beg when Garren's tongue had been attending
to him for so long his legs felt numb from being parted, high and loose over
Garren's shoulders. His anus was overly sensitive as Garren fingered it, bit
it and swabbed it with his tongue, over and over again.
When Garren entered him hard and fast, Alex had cried out with the suddenness
of it, the welcomed suddenness of being filled so tightly.
The thrusts were so slow at first that Alex wanted to kill Garren, but they
increased in tempo until they were both panting and growling in each other's
ears, whispering encouragement. They came together that first time, but
Garren had only just begun to play with Alex.
When they were finally still, Alex was exhausted. After orgasm came sanity,
with sanity came regret. He had not once asked to be taken back to Fox. Of
course it was useless to ask, for even if Garren would do it, which he would
not, Skinner had given him away, but he hadn't even tried. If Fox had seen
how eagerly he had spread his legs and his lips, he would never believe
Alex's vows of love. And even now, in the warmth of Garren's arms, in the
surety that Garren was correct, he did need the big wolf now, even then, he
longed for Fox. Longed to have those moss eyes closing in sleep as Fox
nestled his face into Alex's neck and fell sweetly asleep atop him. God he
had never wanted Fox more than this minute. When he couldn't have him.
Skinner had given him away.
He closed his eyes tight and tried to bury the way that bit of knowledge made
him feel. Given away, tossed aside. For so long that was how he felt
thinking his parents had not wanted such a disrespectful boy. It hurt too
much to feel that way again. And yet, he could not let it go. Skinner had
not been happy to do it, he knew, but he had done it. He had kept Fox and
given him away like the trash he probably still thought Alex was.
Garren growled in his ear and demanded that he stop hurting, making Alex
almost smile. Alex resolutely made himself sleep, leaving Garren to stare at
the dying night sky alone and uncertain of what to do. Uncertain after
centuries of certainty.
He could let his mate hurt. He did not want to let his mate hurt. When he
sensed that the little cat was asleep he spoke softly. "Akael, what would
you do?" He knew, without having to sense him, that his old protector was
near.
Akael didn't rise from his position nearby but with a warning growl he sent
the other packmembers away. It wouldn't do for them to overhear words
between he and the young Garren.
"You must do as you see best, Garren," he said respectfully.
"Yes, but what is that? He is hurting and I don't like it. Me! Me who
cares little for human frailty."
"It is not human frailty you concern yourself with, it is your mate's
happiness. That is nothing to be ashamed of. Human or no, you have picked
him. He is your mate now for his whole, short life." Akael sighed. "You
will learn."
Garren glared into the sky. He had not wanted to think of the brevity of
Alex's lifespan. "He aches for the pretty Fox, but I think mostly because he
thinks Skinner threw him away. Why does he care?"
Akael sighed impatiently. "Do you not know anything of humans, pup?"
Both of them were surprised by the brief departure back into Garren's youth
when Akael had leave to call him such, but neither mentioned the breech.
"Your mate feels like he is cast aside like something unworthy. He must feel
that Skinner did not care for him. And for that to hurt he must have cared
for the Ascendant."
"I had not considered that," Garren muttered. "But, surely he knows the
foolish reason Skinner did voluntarily give him up! Not because he didn't
desire Alex, but in order to secure his precious balance."
Akael was silent for a moment. "I will not dare to interfere in whether you
align with the Ascendant, but if Murdoch comes for Alex I will try to rip him
to shreds, friend of yours or no. I am not as certain as you, Garren, that
Murdoch will not want him. Your father did not trust him fully. And nor
should you. When Josia and Emil come to share in the honor of guarding Alex,
I will inform them of my concern."
Garren was stunned, but didn't show it. His father had been as loyal to
Murdoch as he himself had been. His old taskmaster leaned back and it was
apparent he meant to sleep while Alex did. Though he could demand Akael's
attention, and though Akael would certainly answer him as obediently as any
other packmember, Garren was still understandably respectful of his old
protector and fell silent too, his mind in even more a tangle. Josia, his
father's brother, and Emil, the most vicious wolf Garren had ever known,
older than Josia, but younger than Akael. Both would take their lead from
Akael. As Garren's old protector and taskmaster, Akael's rank was higher
than that of any other save for Garren's own littermates. Thus, would all
three wolves distrust Garren's old master. They would never go against
Garren's decision, but they would not want the true Ascendant near their
charge.
An interesting situation.
Why hadn't his father fully trusted Murdoch? It made no sense. Murdoch had
been no threat. He hadn't ascended; he was trapped in human frailty for the
most part. He had needed the pack for protection. Why then? It did bear
thinking on. He found himself wishing, for the first time, that his father
were still alive. He had never needed him for direction before. And
wouldn't now save for that question.
Garren thought over Skinner's proposal. If he aligned with Skinner then
Murdoch would become his enemy. Murdoch would have no choice but to attack
the pack wherever they roamed. He had no illusions that many wolves would
die if that were the way of things. But, he had his mate to consider as
well. Though he had not decided fully, he sent out a command to the pack,
one which caused every member concern, but one which was obeyed.
Alex muttered in his sleep. Uneasy even there in dreams. What did he dream
of that made him begin to twist in Garren's arms? Garren growled then,
quietly as Alex whimpered in fear. Was it Murdoch? Akael was beside him
suddenly, staring down at Alex with studied concern. If it were Murdoch come
to reap the bounty of his mate's beauty then he would never rest until
Murdoch paid the price of such an action. What could make his brave little
cat afraid?
"He dreams only," Akael finally said and returned to his position.
Garren relaxed a small bit, but frowned still as Alex shivered. He pulled
him closer and whispered what he hoped were comforting words in Alex's ear
until Alex stilled and slid into silent slumber.
"So you have decided?" Akael asked in response to Garren's earlier command to
the pack.
"I have not. I merely prepare the pack."
Akael fell silent once more. Garren stayed awake for several more hours,
uneasy. His thoughts consumed with Murdoch coming and taking Alex in dreams.
Salmon Falls, CA
Mulder was roused slightly when he heard the sound of twigs snapping and knew
someone was walking just outside the circle of tents—walking away from the
campsite. He came awake then, absolutely, without any residual confusion
that some wakers suffered those first delicate minutes of consciousness. He
looked to see Scully snuggled deep in the confines of her navy colored,
insulated sleeping bag. One strand of red hair peeked out like an antenna,
but nothing more.
He dressed hurriedly. Wanting, for some reason, to find the person who was
leaving camp. As he carefully unzipped the tent flap and re-zipped it, he
grew impatient. The footsteps on dry twigs were inaudible now. Whoever it
was, though, had been walking toward the small river. He hurried in the same
direction, wondering at his impatience to confront the person who he
followed.
A small part of him knew who he would find—needed to find—to deal with!
And so, he was not surprised to come upon Skinner standing in the newly
birthed light by the river, hands in his front pockets and staring up at the
sunrise. He was taken aback for a moment at how different Skinner seemed.
He wore faded denim jeans and a cable knit, cream sweater. His glasses were
absent and Mulder wondered if he even needed them anymore. The familiar
surge of desire for Skinner pulsed for a moment before Mulder resolutely
pushed it aside.
"Plotting whom else to bargain away?" he asked. The sarcasm in his voice was
no less bitter for its soft tone.
Skinner turned his face toward Mulder, closed his eyes slowly and then
reopened them. He seemed about to say something, before he rubbed one hand
over his balding head and just stared intently at Mulder.
"What? You aren't bothering to deny it?" Mulder moved toward him, his eyes
narrowed and furious. "Who's next? Scully? Langly? Who?"
"Fox. Please don't look at me that way. I know what you are thinking but I
honestly did what I thought was best." When Fox just glared at him, the
hazel eyes filled with such reproach, Skinner felt the heaviness on his chest
magnify. "I have no desire to separate you from Alex. I know I could... but
I won't." He turned from Fox then, looking at dawn's riotous arrival on the
low brush and slow-moving water. The display of color was almost a mockery
in its beauty. "When I am assured that Garren will ally with myself and the
others who will fight Murdoch—I will let you go to him as well. To go to
Alex."
Mulder frowned at that and looked at Skinner through lash-shaded eyes.
"You'd give us both away?" he said with a hint of scorn in his monotone voice.
Skinner looked at him. "I want you both. I love you both. You I love with
my entire self—Alex I wanted to cherish—wanted to show him that not everyone
would betray him." He gave a sarcastic laugh, "Fine job I did, too. But, if
there is to be any type of peace in this new world, then I have to be willing
to sacrifice everything." He made as if to touch Mulder's face and then
withdrew his own hand as if Mulder was radiating some intense, unfriendly
heat.
"You didn't even warn us," Mulder whispered.
"And what would you have done? Run?" Skinner shook his head. "Mulder, this
world is not the same one in which you skipped about for years—Scully behind
you, believing in you is not quite enough to protect you anymore. You
wouldn't last a second-"
"Which is why we, Alex and I, agreed to be with you—for our prote-"
Skinner laughed, hollowly. "You agreed to what I wanted you to agree to,
Fox. I didn't even really give you a choice did I?"
Mulder lifted his chin defiantly. "What do you hope to prove? This martyr
act isn't working. You gave my lover away to some creature. I want you to
get him back. Now!"
Skinner considered him, took in the flushed face, the pretty lips and he
wanted him. Wanted to pretend for just a few hours that they were still in
D.C. that there had never been such a thing as the Mediggo or the opening.
Wanted to take that look from Fox's face—the same wild, distrustful look he
had given him when Scully had been dying in the hospital.
"I can't. But I can let you go to him, Mulder. Either way, you will be
forced to accept that he isn't ever going to be just yours alone."
Mulder blanched at that. For whatever reason, he did not want to go to
Garren. He wanted Alex to come back. He knew with certainty that he would,
in fact, go to Garren if that was the only way to be with Alex, but that was
not something he looked forward to. Those gas flame eyes, that cruel smile.
He had seen more warmth in the eyes of serial killers. Which, of course,
Garren was. Minus even the more interesting psychosis that caused serial
killer to kill. No, he mused cynically, Garren just liked to eat humans.
He shuddered. This was what had Alex?
"Not good enough," Mulder insisted. Denying that his not wanting to go to
Garren had anything to do with the fact that he felt like hitting and holding
Skinner at the same time. He could not forget the sweet moments after
Mikhail, when he had wanted Walter all for himself. How sweet Walter had
been. How much he loved him. Of course, he knew who he wanted—needed—to be
with, but looking into the sad, chocolate eyes, he could barely keep from
going to him for succor when he had caused it all.
No. Murdoch had caused it all. Was still working his dark purpose in the
world, even as they stood there in the cool morning.
"Fox, my sweet Fox," Skinner sighed, unable to prevent his hand from sliding
down Fox's arm. "It is what can happen for now. Antonio was telling you the
truth last night. The world is in shambles. It is as bad as if the invasion
you were so sure would happen had happened. Maybe worse. People are being
slaughtered-"
"And what role did you play in it?" Mulder asked. "You went to end it—both
you and Antonio, but you were part of it weren't you? Garren calls you
Ascendant and Antonio, too. What are you? What did you do? What exactly is
going on dammit!"
Skinner wasn't surprised by the questions, only that Fox had waited so long
to ask them. The old Mulder would have been hounding him for the truth as
soon as he had been hustled into the helicopter and flown westward. "It is
not as simple as you might imagine."
"Indulge me," Fox sneered. "Pretend I have an extremely high IQ and that I
can understand what you tell me."
Skinner nodded and began his tale. When he finished telling Mulder
everything—all he knew from beginning to end, including the ceremony and the
conversations with Baku, the history of the pure bloods—it was full morning.
The heat of the day was already beginning to make itself known and insects
were buzzing in the bushes and over the relatively still waters at the bank
of the river.
Several minutes of silence followed Skinner's last words. Finally, Mulder
looked again at Skinner with something less than full hostility. "I am not
going to pretend that it is okay for me that you gave Alex away. But, I will
say that I understand your reasons."
Skinner knew that Mulder did not condone his actions, never would, but he
hoped that by letting go of him—the very idea of which tore at his heart with
intractable claws—would one day lead Fox to forgive him for what he had to
do. He wished he could be selfish enough to keep Fox—to keep him in spite of
the certain hatred that would follow. Or he simply wished not to be
responsible for the balance. That delicate balance between good and evil.
Even were Murdoch to be destroyed there was enough evil in the world to
counter good intentions. It would make things so much easier. If he had a
choice, he would have given away his power and responsibility and lived out a
happy life with Fox Mulder.
"There must be some way to get Garren to give Alex back to us."
Skinner stiffened at Mulder's word choice. He had said, "to us" not "to me."
It was telling. "Fox, do you not want to leave me?"
Mulder frowned at the quiet whisper. Skinner's eyes were wide with something
akin to hope and he wanted to dash it, to hurt him like he had hurt Alex.
But he couldn't. "No. No I don't. But, I will go where Alex is. You have
to understand that. And, Walter, you hurt him. I can forgive the rest,
eventually, as I know why you did it, but I can't forgive that. Not that."
Walter nodded. The memory of Alex's beautiful face, so shocked, so betrayed,
hurt him, too. "I can never forgive myself for that. I can only say that
you must believe I would never have given him to Garren if I didn't know
that Garren would treat him like a priceless jewel. Nothing would have made
me do it, if I thought Garren might ever hurt Alex."
Mulder glared. "He's raped him! He's drugged him somehow—I'd say that is
hurt enough, Skinner!"
"He's not drugged him, Mulder. He has bonded with him as I have with you,
only in a different way. Alex loves you, Fox, but he wants to be with
Garren, too. You know it as well as I. Alex told me so himself, and he
admitted that he had upset you with the knowledge."
Mulder looked away. "I don't care! He loves me. He wouldn't leave me."
The last words were almost whispered, confused and full of doubt. "Would he?"
Skinner did pull Mulder into his strong embrace then, cradling Fox's lean
body to his with a groan. "I don't believe he would, Fox. I don't believe
he would."
"I need to see him. Neither you nor Garren will stop me," Mulder promised,
pulling away from Skinner. Their eyes met. "I need to know that he is all
right. He needs to know that I want him here."
The implication was clear and though Mulder's intention was not to dig the
blade of self-recrimination deeper into Skinner's heart, he did. There was
no way around the guilt. He had hurt Alex, had promised never to give him up
or let another have him. He had given Alex a glimpse of what it was like to
be protected and safe and then had betrayed him as surely as anyone ever had.
He would never forget the way that had felt, or how Alex's pain had washed
over him like a tidal wave—a tsunami charging toward delicate shores.
He nodded.
Mulder made his way back to camp, hoping to find Scully up and alone. He was
relieved to see her dressed and waiting for him just outside her tent. She
gave him a small smile as she sat lacing up her boots. He took a moment to
study her as she attended to her recalcitrant laces. There was a sad tilt to
her lips, which he suspected had everything to do with Antonio's absence.
"Did you speak to Skinner already?" she asked, looking up at him through a
fell of red hair.
He was put back for a moment before nodding. "I did."
"And," she hedged finishing with her boots and standing.
"And his giving of Alex stands. Of course he is now willing to let me go as
well in order to be with him."
"Do you believe that?" Scully asked, a worried frown marring the otherwise
smooth brow. Her eyes were narrowed with concern and Mulder shrugged.
"Well?"
"What reason would he lie now?"
"To lull you into a false sense of security," she said sharply, as if
worrying that his mind had indeed made it back intact from Mikhail's care.
"Security is something I don't think I will ever feel again. Not really,"
Mulder said bitterly. He looked around the camp. "Where is everyone?
Shouldn't they be up by now?"
"The Gunmen came out for some food a bit ago, but are officially protesting
Alex's departure and won't come out again for three hours."
At Mulder's confused look, she shrugged. "I don't know why three hours,
Mulder, I just repeat the odd things they say."
"And your mother? Antonio?"
At the mention of Antonio's name she raised a brow and stared at him until he
had felt as if he had cursed loud and long in front of her and an entire
cathedral of the devout. She cleared her throat when she felt he had been
sufficiently stared down and said, "My mother said she wanted to go for a
walk and Antonio went with her. The coward."
Mulder nodded, not at all unhappy that Antonio was on the outs for the
moment. Scully was fully focussed on their joint mission. A niggling guilt
informed him that their mission was certainly his mission, just as nearly
every mission he had ever dragged her into had been. And yet her outfit
suggested that she was ready to go traipsing through heavy brush and take on
the Consortium, if the Desert Eagle .50 Magnum at her side could be
considered any indication.
At his nod toward the black, deadly looking weapon she half smiled. "Frohike
is, among other things now, an assassin in training, or something like that.
He wanted me to have a weapon."
"He didn't get me one," Mulder objected, his eyes flickering to the silent
tent that housed the protesting Gunmen.
"Yes, well I did ask about that, but he said that you had... never mind," she
ended abruptly. "Let's go to your tent—look through yours and Krycek's
things for the med-"
"What did I have?" Mulder pressed. He placed one hand on her narrow shoulder
staring intently into her eyes.
"Mulder, it doesn't matter. Are we going-"
"What, Scully?"
Scully sighed. "Fine. He said you had Krycek and that was weapon enough."
Mulder looked away and Scully was horrified to see the look of naked anguish
that passed over his features. His lips tightened with determination and he
released her shoulder. "Let's go get those medallions and go find out where
Alex is—or, barring that, find Baku and get some damn answers."
She hurried after him, her little legs having to double his pace in order to
keep up, but she didn't ask him to slow his pace. What use would that be?
Mulder never slowed his pace, he plunged headlong into things. Of course,
now all of them were headlong—at least her partner and she were used to it.
Finding the medallions proved simple as Alex had kept them close to him, in a
small bag in which he kept a change of underwear and socks. Mulder's throat
moved reflexively as he touched Alex's things.
"We'll get him back, Mulder," Scully promised. "And you won't have to go
off with that wolf either. What could Skinner be thinking to say such a
thing?"
She was shaking her head as Mulder placed one of the two medallions around
her neck. "He was thinking to assuage me and Alex-"
"Assuage his guilt more likely," she sneered.
"No doubt," Mulder agreed. He put on the second medallion and the two were
silent for a moment. "I thought I would maybe feel different—maybe become
invisible," Mulder drawled.
Scully shrugged. "Well, either they work or they're just another smoke and
mirror routine, which is my personal bet-"
"Dana Scully, skeptic to the bitter end," Mulder chuckled.
She gave him a look and continued. "You would think super wonder twin power
necklaces would have some other quality—some pizzazz wouldn't you?"
He raised the tent flap for her and gave her what he hoped was a stern look.
"It is irrelevant anyway as we are going to go charging out into the badlands
with one gun and—well that's it. If the medallions work it would be one
chalk up for us. We are due one."
He ended up following her from the camp, her determined stride leading south
and they walked for several minutes before conferring again on the possible
location of Baku.
Skinner watched them go, knew what they were about and sensed that Baku had
left in the night. He wouldn't stop the two from their search though,
perhaps them being alone, together as a team again might give Mulder some
purpose, some way to get through the next few days of waiting for Garren's
decision. Guilt plagued him but even more so because he knew he would have
Mulder again, as often as possible before he would cross the bridge of giving
him up. He had already informed Antonio that he was to take the rest of the
group on to San Francisco that afternoon and wait for him there.
Of course that would mean Scully and Mulder only had a few hours of
togetherness, but it was all he could give them. He tried to rationalize the
taking of Scully, the second most important person to Mulder, from him so
soon as Antonio was not staying San Francisco after they arrived, but had
planned to leave immediately for South America and most certainly the
Scully's would go with him. So, Mulder would have lost her anyway.
The rationalization did not make him feel better, but he did not dwell on it.
Things were in motion now. One of his brothers had been taken, his zone
overrun and destroyed. Others were fighting and doing well, but he would not
risk it. Giving up Mulder had not been his original intention. He had simply
planned on weathering the storm of Mulder's fury and then hoping Garren tired
of Alex soon—though he had no real hope of that—and then settling down with
Mulder, if not with both Mulder and Krycek, for the rest of their lives.
Antonio and Maggie walked in from the east and Maggie gave Skinner a tired,
sad smile and asked him if he were at all hungry. Without waiting for an
answer she bean to arrange things for a meal for them all. The Gunmen sent
out Langly to fetch them food when it was done and neither Skinner nor
Antonio commented on their rebellion. They would have to come out in a few
hours for the trip anyway.
"What if the Gunmen want to come to South America with me, Skinner?" Antonio
asked as he sat alongside Skinner at a foldout table.
"No. Mulder needs them—if he stays with me," Skinner mumbled.
Antonio simply raised his brows, but said nothing in response to that
insanity—Mulder having a choice in anything. Skinner was certainly not in
the mood to hear that he treated his chattel too well.
Salmon Falls, CA
Garren frowned at Alex, a dark ferocious glare that didn't phase the young
man at all. "Alex, you will eat and that is the end of it," he repeated for
the third time. "I told you, you would see Fox today, there is no need to
protest in this way."
Alex glared back at him. "I am not protesting anything as I have said to
you two times. That would indicate that I thought I could effect the outcome
of this situation—that maybe I thought you and Skinner both would just leave
Fox and I alone. I am just not hungry. I don't have to eat as much as some
people do." This was directed at Akael who had happily eaten several
platefuls of fire heated beans and corned beef hash. "And this isn't my meal
of choice."
"Nor is it ours," Garren growled as he stood, pacing about the fire in the
middle of the little clearing he claimed. "You'll eat," he assured Alex and
was furious when Alex flipped up his middle finger at him. He grabbed Alex
up and shook him a bit. "You forget that I am not averse to punishing you,
Alex," he threatened. To show he meant it, Garren reached behind Alex and
slapped his rear with a wide, strong hand.
Green eyes blazed at him, but there was no show of remorse or any intention
of obeying. Garren made Alex sit and placed a plate on his lap, determined
not to lose his temper. The pack members still allowed nearby grew restless
and anxious at Garren's displeasure, unsure as to what to do. When the human
mate flung the plate of beans and hash into Garren's face, they wanted to
retaliate, to kill, but of course, they would do nothing of the sort.
Akael chuckled, receiving a hot topaz glare for his troubles. He finished
his plate and stretched, standing. "Mate, your little Fox and the female are
coming near. Do you want to have him find you being punished as you so
richly deserve?"
Alex masked his surprise so well, that Akael would not have known he had
affected the pretty male at all if his smell had not changed dramatically.
Alex shrugged. "I am still not fucking hungry."
Garren raised his brow and looked to Akael. "If you don't eat, then you
won't see Fox at all this day."
Alex glared at him, his eyes hot with the emotion he had denied Akael. "You
bastard. I said I wasn't hungry. If you want me to eat, find something
other than pork and beans, heated over a fire." At Garren's unflinching
stare he gritted his teeth. "Jesus. Give me some then," he hissed, hating
to give in, but unwilling to be denied the chance to see Fox.
"You won't have to eat this way forever, Cat," Garren informed him as he made
another plate of the steamy, lard shiny food. "Just until the Ascendant
realizes that I am not letting him take Fox from you. That we will be
traveling with them. I am sure your Fox will fix you better meals than this."
The tone of Garren's voice, the way he so obviously had relegated Fox to a
submissive role to Alex, grated on Alex. It was one thing for him to think
of Fox that way, but quite another for someone else to assume. "I'll have
you know that I cook for Fox. That if I relied on him to cook I would eat
less than if you did."
Garren shrugged. He had no interest in the conversation anymore, Alex was
eating. He had gotten his way. He was getting control of the situation.
Soon Alex would obey prettily. He smiled at Akael, but the old wolf's face
was averted, the amber glow of his eyes bright and intense. He was tracking
something, Fox no doubt. He stood and left Alex sitting beside the dying
fire.
"Akael, I go to speak to Skinner."
He was already ten paces away before Alex stopped him. "What? Why?"
Garren sighed. It was of no concern to Alex why. He had not even considered
telling Alex where he was going. "Just eat, Alex. Wait for your Fox. Obey
Akael-"
"What? Never! I won't even obey you," Alex ground out.
"Or he has my permission to—to make Fox leave."
Akael grinned again. It would have been far more normal for him to grant him
permission to punish him physically, but he had been right in his estimation
of his Garren's susceptibility for the lovely, changed male.
Garren made his way to the ascendants' camp only making his decision moments
before he faced the two. It was one that would potentially harm his pack,
something he didn't take lightly, but one that would perhaps, lead to
security for Alex—and happiness too.
"So where do you think Baku is?" Scully asked as she and Mulder made their
way through the low brush.
"I don't even know if he is still around, but I have a feeling he is."
"You and your feelings, I've learned to trust both," Scully sighed
reluctantly, making Mulder smile. "If he is around, he'll want to be close."
"But not too close," Mulder observed.
"Why Baku?" When Mulder gave her a questioning look she continued, "I mean
he was working in Club Lune, and not even a high position from what I could
see. Why him?"
"You mean why is he the one giving the messages, following us?" At her nod
Mulder shrugged. "I guess even in strange occult circles there are spies."
"So he was a spy? Spying on the Meddiggo? Pretty dangerous considering
their obvious-" she paused uncomfortably, "powers."
He shrugged. "I suppose so, but maybe he had the ability to block them—keep
them from finding out he was a spy."
"That he was with the Dorl," Scully added. She explained quickly what she
knew of the Dorl, what she had uncovered during his time with Mikhail.
"So this group, this Dorl is the same group that Dr. Reeves was working
with," Mulder mused.
"I can't think of any other answer. And if that is true, and this Baku is
somehow their leader, then we have to talk to him. Surely he'll be able to
give us some information that will be helpful." She stopped suddenly and
held one hand up to quiet the question that was forming on Mulder's lips.
"The birds," she whispered.
He tried to listen to any birdsong but there was none. He stiffened. "There
are no birds."
"Exactly," she agreed. "They went silent."
Both agents stood tense. Sudden cessation of sound, even in this odd world,
meant only one thing. A predator was approaching, one that the animals of
the forest disapproved of more than they did the arrival of two humans. The
hairs on Mulder's neck stood rigid. Something was watching them. This
wasn't the forest of Fort Bragg, but a sparser, more lowland forest, one that
held little cover in most places, but still, something was watching them.
"What is it?" Scully asked, peering to the left and then the right.
"Something Tweetie and company don't like, that's for sure," Mulder
whispered, the intense feeling of being watched increased and he had the
insane urge to run, to grab Scully by the arm and run.
Salmon Falls, CA
"We are not going to accomplish anything in here," Langly complained for the
third time. "No one cares if we are upset. Skinner doesn't care if Mulder
is pissed about Alex, so why would he care if we were?"
Frohike looked at the back wall of the tent and brooded.
"Langly's right," Byers finally said. "We need to take action."
Frohike smiled darkly. "Yeah! We strike now, go get Alex and-"
"No, Melvin," Byers corrected, "we sneak out the back way—so no one knows
what we're up to. We go get Mulder and the four of us go find Alex—maybe
even the strange old man who started this."
"Baku," Langly whispered. "That is what his name is. I heard it when I went
to tell Skinner that he was here to speak to him. You know when we thought
Krycek was beating on Mulder."
"I never thought that," Frohike asserted. "Krycek wouldn't really hurt him."
He had of course, been the one to tell the other two men that Krycek might
have lost it and tried to hurt Mulder, based on his viewing of the assassin
at the river's edge with Mulder. But, neither Byers nor Langly felt like
reminding him of that.
"We can go out the back of the tent—cut our way out and then go to Mulder's
tent and spring him."
"He isn't a prisoner," Langly sighed.
"We all are," Byers insisted.
"No, he and Scully left a bit ago. I heard them go by," Langly insisted.
Byers sighed. "So why didn't you tell us?"
"We were on strike."
Frohike looked through his bag of weapons and handed Byers a gun. ".357
Magnum. It'll knock down a charging grizzly. It'll stop anything. Take it."
Byers took the gun and checked it out with expert attention. His smooth
motions and precise handling startled his two friends. He shrugged almost
embarrassed. "I know guns a little. Don't like what some people do with
them, but I know them."
"What d'ya have for me?" Langly asked. He leaned over the bag and peered
inside curiously.
"Nothing. I gave Scully the only other spare I have the first day on this
little trek," Frohike said apologetically as he strapped on his two ladies.
"Well, give me one of those," Langly pointed to the two guns strapped to
Frohike's chest.
Frohike looked aghast. "No! These two are a team. We'll just have to rely
on you to do the springing." He handed Langly a hunting knife and Langly
took it with a whistle.
"Okay, I can hang with this. Rambo."
Frohike grinned. " Get cutting."
When the three had silently slid out the slit Langly had made in the back of
the tent they immediately followed in the direction Langly had thought he
heard Scully and Mulder take. They moved low and slow until they were
certain neither Skinner nor Antonio would stop them. Byers had a feeling
that Antonio was watching them leave and he flushed. He didn't want to think
about what he and Antonio did two nights ago, how Antonio had made him do
things he would never of thought of doing with a man. And he didn't want to
think about the way he enjoyed those things, the way he had whimpered and
begged toward the end of his ordeal. He was glad to be on a mission. It
would help keep his mind off the feel of Antonio's hands on him, the dark
gaze that was so tinged with red that he was nearly frightened.
They fell into line, single file like Indians hiding their numbers. They
were silent and determined. They were heavily armed. They were ready for
anything. Ten minutes later when they saw Garren coming toward them, they
melted into the shrubs around them and hid. When Garren passed they
reemerged onto the trail and grinning at having hidden from a werewolf of all
things they continued, surely as silent as wraiths, smokelike and deadly. A
few twigs snapped and branches swayed in their wake, Langly cursed when he
stumbled, but they didn't consider that too much noise.
Garren found Skinner and Antonio waiting for him. They were solemn looking,
but otherwise they seemed utterly calm. "The friends of your Fox are hiding
in the forest," Garren said casually.
"We know. They cut their way out of the tent, so we wouldn't know they were
looking for Alex," Antonio said softly, his melodious accent making his words
seem even more relaxed than he looked.
"Looking for Alex?" Garren asked, suspicious. "Why?"
"They're his friends—sort of," Skinner growled, his tone belying the ease of
his expression, "they're understandably upset with this and worried about
him."
Garren grinned, his lips revealing white, perfect teeth, teeth a Hollywood
hopeful would kill for. "You can't control any of your people can you?"
Antonio's dark eyes flashed and he looked to Skinner as if to say, "Do we
really need this clown?"
"What is your decision, Garren?"
"I will agree to align with you." Garren could smell the tension in the two
ascendants fade with his words. "I have already informed the pack of this.
Murdoch is our enemy." He didn't reveal to Skinner that the biggest reason
by far that had compelled him to agree to this, had been his fear while
holding Alex in his sleep. Fear that Murdoch might take him, take him in a
place where Garren's claws and incredible strength—indeed not those of the
entire pack—could save him. A place that only another ascendant could call
one back from "I will help you and your brothers, but I have conditions."
Skinner felt a weight ease from his shoulders but he showed nothing on his
face. "Name them."
"You will promise not to keep Fox from Alex."
"Done."
"You will not interfere ever between me and my mate. Ever To do so is
to question my right to him, and that I, nor my pack, will tolerate."
"If you don't hurt him-"
"Ever, Ascendant, means ever. I will never hurt Alex, unless he needs to be
punished. Though I owe you no explanation, I will say that Alex is safer
with me than anywhere else on this earth."
"Fine, what else?"
"Nothing. I need nothing from you, Ascendant. You are the one who needs me."
Garren grinned at the disgruntled looks on the ascendants' faces. They were
born to rule the world but hadn't figured out how to do it. They were
struggling with their powers as any child might struggle to learn to ride a
bike, or to walk and they didn't even know of the struggle. "I would ask
that I be able to take Fox to Alex now, but Fox is already on his way to my
mate."
"Yes, I know," Skinner sighed.
Garren saw the same bewildered look in Skinner's eyes as he felt in himself.
They were both powerful, Garren more used to his power, but both were letting
weak humans call some of the shots. They were pathetic. He was glowering
before he knew it and with a growl he turned away. "We both need to get
control of our mates."
Skinner's laugh made Garren turn his head back to the big man. "Yes, but how
in the hell do we do that?"
Garren glowered and because he had no answer, he remained silent. "What
plans do you have against Murdoch," he ground out to change the subject of
contrary, beautiful, changed males.
McClellan Air Force Base
Three stood at the back side of the room, watching. Four was still looking
at his toe, watching it with what Three would call intense concern. One was
looking at books that none of them could read yet and Two was having his hair
stroked by one of the White Coats. Though Three was unsure as to what
exactly he was, he knew that he and the others, Two, Four and One, were
different from the White Coats. Too, he knew more than he was letting on.
Though he had refused to speak, except to Four when he had made his toe leak,
Three was comfortable with the language of the White Coats. He didn't
understand why he was uncomfortable nor could he name the emotion they
engendered within him, but if he could know, he would have named it mistrust,
and even fear.
When Two cried out in the same tone as had Four when his toe had been
injured, Three looked toward him. The White Coats had put another needle in
Two making him make that sound of pain, but even more interesting was the
wetness on Two's face. The word for wetness of the face came to Three.
Tears. The White Coats were hurting Two, and Three didn't like it. He moved
toward the huddled group and sat close behind Two, wrapping his arms about
him. Physical contact had seemed to calm Four and so it was with Two.
"They feel empathy for one another," one of the White Coats said and Three
just stared at her. Of course they did. Empathy, the ability to imagine how
it must be for another, the cousin of sympathy. Did not all humans have the
ability? Another thought made him uncomfortable. Were he and the others
even human? Is that why the White Coats were so surprised, yes that was the
word, when he or the others displayed human emotions and qualities?
"Hurt," Two whispered and Three held him closer.
"We have to give you shots, Sweetheart. You don't want to get sick do you?
I mean you are perfect, but you are still susceptible to disease."
"Sick?" Two questioned. He knew what that word meant. So did Three. Four
and One, sensing some tension from their brothers came forward, their
expressions delightfully vague, almost ditzy.
"Sick as in having an illness, which may or may not destroy the body?" One
asked worriedly.
"You aren't going to get sick if you get your shots, like good boys would,"
the female White Coat assured.
Three was fascinated with the female. Was she the mother? Her face was
strangely lined and her hair more white than black, but he knew there had to
be a mother. Her voice was different too. Softer than the males. She was
smaller than most, but he had felt her grip, she was not weak.
As if thinking the same thing about her maternity, Four asked, "Are you the
mother?"
She looked strange then, and Three could not name her expression. Her eyes
widened, as did her mouth. She looked to her fellow White Coats and then
back at the four of them, all wearing different shades of the same vacant
look.
"Why no, no sweetie, I am not your mother. You don't have a mother. Only a
donor."
Four looked to Two and One looked to Three. They were not sure of the
response. They waited until Three nodded before Four and One went back to
their previous occupations. Three stayed with Two until the White Coat who
was not their mother placed her hand on Three's arm.
"Two has to go with Doctors Roberts and Shenk now. He is going to learn to
shower. Let go of him, Three. It is your turn for a shot."
Three let Two go and he followed the two male White Coats from the room, his
expression no longer vacant but relaxed. Three did not want a shot. He knew
they hurt. He had had two already. He almost prevented her from giving him
one, but the threat of "sick" stopped him. Sick was scarier then shots. He
didn't cry out as had Two when the needle pierced his flesh, but he didn't
like it.
The White Coats smiled at him, two males led him to the shower area as well.
They asked him why he wouldn't talk like his brothers, but he just stared at
them blankly. He knew Two and Four were not truly uncomfortable with the
White Coats, but he had seen One considering them strangely. One and he had
shared several looks of concern.
He could not explain why, he had no reason to wonder about the White Coats,
but they smelled different, they were not the same as the others. He let
himself be taught to shower and he had to admit that the feeling of their
hands on him felt good. Especially when one had taken his penis in his hand
and stroked it slowly, gently with soap and water. Three had almost spoken
then, in surprise when his penis grew. The pleasure combined with the
strange sight of his deformity nearly made him break his determination not to
speak.
"God, they're so pretty," the White Coat who stroked him whispered to his
fellow, staring into Three's pale, hazel eyes. The kaleidoscopic melange of
green, blue, and brown almost hypnotizing the man. "Aren't they?"
"Yes, but we better watch it. The old man has guards posted. He's their
father for God's sake!"
Three's attention was diverted from the pleasure in his penis when he heard
those words. Father? Old man?
"But, they smell so good. Look how he is watching me? He doesn't know what
I'm even doing, but he likes it." His words were proved when Three gave a
small moan and moved into the man's eager hand.
"Jesus, of course he likes it," the second White Coat hissed, "but you aren't
supposed to do it."
Three noted that after that exchange the pleasure ended and the hand was
removed. His shower lesson was pleasant after that but the White Coat's hand
did not return to its pleasurable exercise again. Three wondered at the point
of the shower, wondered why it was necessary to learn such a task. It seemed
a waste of time to him.
Later, Three and the others were taught how to dress themselves, what type of
clothes suited what type of weather. Again, Three wondered at the usefulness
of such things. One strenuously objected to wearing clothes. He repeatedly
removed the articles put on him and Three watched with curious fascination as
One's mouth kept moving oddly. The lower lip grew bigger it seemed,
especially when one of the White Coats would insist he put back on his shirt.
Three didn't mind the clothing too much, neither did Four or Two, but One
would not cooperate. Finally, he was left alone, allowed to remain in only a
loose robe, to which he did not object.
Three knew that the White Coats did not know how much data he had inside his
mind, nor did he think the others knew. Somehow, someway, he was different
from the others. That was not something he wanted. He was only comfortable
with the others and did not want to be different from them. But, they were
all different from one another in small ways, so he supposed this difference
was not so great.
When it was time for the lights to go out, he found he wasn't so different
from his brothers as he thought. They all pulled covers from their assigned
beds and made a large place to sleep. Curling together, nervous about the
sensations they were all experiencing, this dulling of senses, they all fell
into their first sleep.
Salmon Falls, CA
Alex waited until Garren was long gone before standing and finishing
dressing. He had eaten all he would. All he wanted now was to not look like
some cheap harlot when he saw Fox. He knew his lips were swollen, not from
Garren's kisses alone, but from the delicious slide of Garren's erection. He
flushed anew as the memory of his own hunger assaulted him.
He had a name for it now, but what good did knowing that he was infected with
some sort of spore do him? Infected or not, he still acted like some eager
bitch. Was there a cure for it? Now, that would be interesting. And the
one person who could perhaps find such a thing, if it even existed, was
Mulder. He spared Akael a glance, startled anew at the seemingly relaxed
nature of this creature. Though Garren was entirely different from the other
wolves Alex had seen, more controlled, this wolf was even more so.
"What do you think you are doing anyway? I don't need a shadow."
Akael just stared at him a small smile on his lips.
It was infuriating for Alex. He had grown used to his own threat, had gotten
so used to being deadly that he hadn't even noticed it anymore. That Mulder
had never guessed Alex's dangerousness had been a credit to Alex's acting
ability. Now, this man—this thing—was looking at him like an amusing
child. Amber eyes glowed and no ire rested there. He wanted to pick up
something and throw it at the big man, just to see if that smile could be
wiped away.
"You think I need or want a protector? Well, you're wrong!"
Akael stood then. "Are you getting ready to go look for the little Fox?"
"Go to Hell. If you want to know what I am going to do, then you figure it
out," Alex growled. He put on his boots, laced them tight and stood.
"You're wasting your time you know."
"How's that?" Akael asked smoothly.
"I'm not going to be Garren's mate for long, so you might as well get used to
not shadowing me."
Akael nodded solemnly. "I see."
"You don't believe me? Fine. But, I am wasting my time." He turned and
after a moment's consideration he went east.
"Fox is no longer coming straight to us, Alex, he is more in a northerly
direction," Akael supplied helpfully. "Garren passed he and the little
female not so many minutes ago.
Alex didn't appear to hear the advice though he switched directions and
headed north. He needed to see Fox, to tell him that Garren had infected
him, had made him want him. He knew it would change nothing, but maybe Fox
would understand.
McClellan Air Force Base
Spender gave the two operatives their final orders. They were to infiltrate
Skinner's little, merry band and get a message to Krycek. Once that was done
they were to help set up the retrieval. Spender had no doubts whatsoever
that Alex would come to him. Perhaps not to heel as he had been trained so
well to do, but come nonetheless. From observation satellites Spender had
been able to easily track Skinner's group and could even see the print on
whatever book Scully's placid mother was reading at any given time.
Though the United States government ceased to exist, its little toys were
still at the ready. Most interesting to the remnants of The Consortium were
the spy satellites, the so—called space observation points. Satellites that
could reposition themselves and hone in on any given location and see a
mosquito land on a baby's palm. The alien technology had no trouble
interfacing with the technology of man, for it was essentially the same. One
the child of the other. The technological revolution was nothing but the
bastard offspring of compliance with the aliens, rewards as it were for
illicit coupling.
The spy satellites, fully armed and deadly, were positioned around the globe
with utility descriptions as innocuous as geographical study, used by
geologists in their quest to better understand Earth. Of course these
satellites did function in many benign uses and those who used them had no
true idea of what they were capable. From his vantage point in the main
relay room, surrounded by dozens of high resolution monitors and technical
equipment straight from a paranoid movie of Big Brother, Spender could even
see what Murdoch was doing. The sights that greeted him were unsettling,
even to one such as he.
Tapping into the defense computers, after operatives had infiltrated several
U.S. defense bunkers and had physically set the power parameters to the
non-effected alien power source, had been simple, they had always had access
to the satellites even if Uncle Sam was turning a blind eye to it. The
operatives were still waiting for him to dismiss them, having already been
shown all the various actors in their upcoming production. They were trained
killers, excellent deep cover operatives and yet they seemed nervous.
Spender forgave them their weakness.
It was quite unsettling to see the creatures that now roamed, and even more
so to know that they would be in the midst of them. Skinner, they were told,
would not be easily fooled. It was for this reason that these particular
operatives were chosen. Not only were they efficient, a nice pseudonym for
being extremely good at killing, but they looked as innocent as any Iowa
farmer. Open faces, free from lines of worry or strife, soft smiles and even
softer voices. He was pleased with the choice.
He dismissed them and they didn't hesitate to go. They would succeed or they
would be killed by Skinner or those man things that changed into wolves, back
and forth sometimes, like ripples on water. Intelligence had supplied that
the wolves were afraid of Skinner, too afraid to stay changed for long. It
worked well for Spender that that was so. His operatives would stay clear of
the man/wolves things anyway. Just to be on the safe side.
Other precautions had been taken as well. Neither operative knew why the
message to Krycek was being delivered. Neither knew anything of the clones
and so could not be forced to talk. Nor could their thoughts be plucked from
their minds as easily as might have been. They had been told only to repress
any thoughts save for the false background they had been drilled with. Alien
technology had even helped them there. With the correct use of light, drugs
and repetition, the operatives were close to believing their own cover.
Spender was pleased. Very pleased. Soon Alex would be with him again. With
the help of the little clone, Alex would soften toward Spender and they would
be together. Sweet, deadly Alex. He shivered. Of course with the
acquisition of the true Fox Mulder as a benefit, he would be forgiven all.
Bill Mulder would most likely give the delicious, troublesome agent to
Murdoch. The Consortium would be held in high esteem by that powerful, if
frightening man. Yes, all was proceeding well. This was going to be a
wonderful, exciting world.
End of The Alliance
uvalley@msn.com
Outstanding Skinner AU
The Alliance
by Czara (Nicole)
The Clones
Come to me, run to me
Do and be done with me
(cold cold cold)
Don't I exist for you
Don't I still live for you
(cold cold cold)
Everything I possess given with tenderness
Wrapped in a ribbon of glass
Time it may take us but God only knows
How I paid for those things in the past
I could be so content hearing the sound of your breath
Cold is the color of crystal the snowlight
That falls from the heavenly skies
Catch me and let me dive under
For I want to swim in the pools of your eyes
Don't I belong to you baby
Don't you know that nothing can tear us apart
Come on now come on now come on now
Telling you that I loved you right from the start—
But the more I want you the less I get
Ain't that just the way things are—
—Annie Lennox "Cold"
West of Santa Rosa
Day Nineteen
Hour 2300
West of Santa Rosa
Day Nineteen
Hour 2345
Penthouse
Day Nineteen
Hour 2030
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0020
Sacramento, CA
Day Twenty
Hour 0950
Sacramento, CA
Day Twenty
Hour 1845
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0020
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0030
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0325
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0645
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0800
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0830
Sacramento, CA
Day Twenty
Hour 2030
West of Santa Rosa
Day Twenty
Hour 0830
Sacramento, CA
Day Twenty-One
Hour 0530
Book III: The Conquering
Honorable mention
