'Love Me Tender' was playing on the jukebox at the bar when they met.
Now, three and a half hours later, Mulder was still humming snatches
of it, mindlessly, as Krycek drove them through the night. He was
intently studying the data from a stolen file, and to Krycek's
occasional glances, the pale, greenish light of the laptop
monitor made Mulder seem as if he were underwater.
"We have to stop meeting like this," Krycek said. "It is too
dangerous."
"I need the files," Mulder replied as if that settled things.
Krycek grunted, "We can arrange a drop off point. You'll copy them,
and I'll pick them up again. We don't need to be together while you
peruse the damn things."
Mulder closed the open programs and shut down the computer. The car
was immediately dimmer, with only the widely spaced streetlights
sending sporadic beams across their cheekbones; making their eyes
flash, and their mouths take on a sinister cast.
They'd fought this battle before. It was only the latest skirmish in
their turbulent history.
"It's better like this. This way we know I got the files,
successfully made copies, and returned them to you personally. No
chance for them, or you or me to disappear, Mulder added, "Or for any
misunderstandings."
This was the point that rubbed Krycek raw each time Mulder refused to
do things the safer way. The mistrust and paranoia never abated. "I
have just as much to lose, asshole," he said.
"Yeah, so that makes my reasoning even more valid. We win or lose
together," Mulder said without inflection.
"This is not some fucking game. This is the beginning of the end, and
you need to be alive to see it all the way through. You get caught
with me, and you're toast. Both the Syndicate and the FBI will fry
your ass. I get caught with you—I'm dead. It's as simple as that."
Mulder stretched and settled back in the seat, "You sound like a
broken record of a mother hen, Krycek."
Fuck, he didn't want to spend this much time with Mulder. Not only
was it dangerous, it was meaningless. Mulder wasn't suddenly going to
understand or be friendly just because they spent these endless hours
of the night in each other's company. The few feet of distance
between them might as well have been miles.
The silence oppressed Mulder; he never made any headway with Krycek.
No conversation other than was strictly necessary about the files, or
the danger, or the risks. "You want me to drive for a bit? We can
stop and get something to eat," he said.
Krycek sighed inwardly. Mulder was as impenetrable as he was adamant.
He knew he would stop, because Mulder hadn't eaten. "The next exit
looks like it has restaurants. We can find something there," Krycek
said.
"Okay, and I have a few days before I need to get back to Cincinnati.
I have nothing to do there, while the trial motions are heard, and
the Grand Jury is called on the Simmons Case. We could find a place
to stay and go over everything we have accumulated thus far. That way
when I get back to DC next week, I can present it to Scully and
Skinner as a fait accompli and be able to answer all their questions."
"Are you nuts? We can't just hide away and play office. Spender can
add you know. You missing, me AWOL, he might just make an equation
out of it," Krycek fumed.
"Are you AWOL? I thought you didn't report to him anymore," Mulder
commented.
Krycek hissed out an impatient breath, "I don't, but that doesn't
mean he can't keep tabs on me. The Brit is his competition for
leadership on the Council. I'm sure he has his eyes and ears out
everywhere trying to keep ahead of him."
"Look, the Brit knows you're with me, right? He'll cover you on his
end. We're in a car rented with false ID; we'll get a motel room with
different fake ID. We're armed. That's about as discreet as either of
us can ever be," Mulder elaborated in an impatient tone.
That this scenario was accurate did nothing to appease Krycek. That
he would have spent the next few days doing the exact same thing,
sans Mulder, was no comfort. "We don't eat out; we don't leave the
rooms at all, and you don't call anyone. I mean anyone, Mulder, even
Scully or Skinner, from your cell phone," he conceded with as many
caveats as he could think of on the spur of the moment.
"I think we ought to get one room—it would be strange to ask for
connecting ones—and then only one of us has to go register," Mulder
said, accepting Krycek's ultimatums.
"We'll end up killing each other," Krycek said, and he wasn't kidding.
Mulder laughed anyway, "I think we've been there and done that,
Krycek."
"Yeah well," Krycek added sourly, "practice makes perfect, you know."
Mulder laughed again, "There's the exit, make a right."
He drove until he found a chain known for having large rooms and mini-
suites, passed it, made a U Turn and drove all the way back to the
highway, got off the next exit and parked in front of a store. "Go
get whatever shit you can't live without for a few days," He
said, "and get me cokes, and a NY Times. I'll go in and register when
we get back to the motel."
"Okay," Mulder said, getting out of the car, "nothing else?"
"I'm on a diet." Krycek answered sarcastically, "Since when do you
care what my tastes are Mulder?"
"Just trying to be considerate, you know; I can be when I try.
Besides food tames the savage beast," Mulder deadpanned.
"That's, 'food is the way to a man's heart,' asshole. And I am not
the lion who lays down to your lamb anyway, 'Fox'."
Mulder slammed the door and went in the shop, "We'll see, 'Alex'," he
said to himself, "we'll see."
Krycek got his bag out of the back seat, awkwardly changed into a
sweater and added a baseball cap and glasses. The glasses were really
his; he needed them for reading the fine print these days, but he
intended to let Mulder think he just carried handy disguises. He
put his jacket into the bag and put his gun in his boot.
Mulder roamed the aisles for goodies. As he searched the shelves he
searched his mind for justification, for what he was about to
attempt. He found chips, salsa dip, sunflower seeds, and a large jar
of what passed for the best brand of instant coffee. He had a sudden
inexplicable need for fig newtons. The fig newtons were all
strawberry filled imposters, so he passed them up. The bakery case
caught his eye and he went closer to look.
It was there he found what he was looking for. It was a coffee cake
with slivered almonds on top of the glaze, but Mulder knew that when
he took a slice there would be raisins and currants inside. He'd
always loved the raisins and wanted to spit out the currants.
When he'd been a child his grandparents always served coffee cake,
they would give him a big slice as if to make up for the lack of
frosting or icing on a more childlike dessert. He'd take it out to
the porch and attempt to pick out all the currants. The problem was,
it was hard to tell the difference until he actually took a bite and
could distinguish between the sweet raisins and the bitter bits. By
the time he'd pick and crumble his way through the cake there would
be nothing much edible left on the plate, and if he scooped the
crumbs into a big mouthful he'd find he somehow missed a lot of
currants, no matter how careful he'd been.
The X Files, Scully, his father and Alex, somehow it all made sense.
Bitter and sweet, truth and lies, life and death, closeted or out,
and he couldn't pick only what he wanted out of any of it. Either he
took a bite and chewed it all, or he had nothing on his plate.
His grandparents made the dry cake palatable with large sips of
coffee; Sam would dip her piece in a cup of milk. It was time, he
decided as he added the cake to cart, time to have his cake, bitter
bits and all and eat it too.
He added condoms and KY to the basket, hefted a twelve pack of coke
in his other hand and checked out.
Krycek made no comment on the large sack Mulder tossed into the back
seat. Mulder made no remark on Krycek's disguise. In amity they drove
back onto the highway and took up residence in the motel.
There'd been no suites available, but the room was a large double,
and it had a small refrigerator and a coffee maker.
Krycek went into the bathroom and returned with his prosthetic arm in
his good hand. The sweater sleeve flapped and got in his way when he
opened his bag and put the arm inside. He twisted the empty sleeve
into a knot before he faced Mulder. "I'll take the bed by the wall,"
he said.
"Fine," replied Mulder, "just remember I'm between you and the door,
so don't shoot me instead of an intruder."
"I don't shoot what I'm not aiming at," Krycek said coldly in a clear
icy voice, and Mulder remembered whom the lion was he wanted to lie
down with tonight.
Mulder turned on the TV, and Krycek ordered pizza. He didn't ask
Mulder what topping he preferred.
And The Beat Goes On...
Mulder settled on a VH1 retro-view of Sixties Rock Bands while they
ate. The pizza was hot, greasy, and the extra cheese stayed put, for
once, instead of sliding off the crust. Krycek rolled his pieces into
fat crescent shapes and methodically took bites from either
end to keep the sauce and cheese from oozing out.
The Doors were onscreen and singing 'Break On Through' with sweaty
rock and roll abandon. Krycek had always loved the song, and the
wailing intensity as it got louder 'til the singer almost screamed.
Krycek held the soda can between his knees and popped the tab with
his hand. He poured it into a cup of ice and drank. "An apropos song,
don't you think?" He asked nodding to the screen. "The data on the
syndicate should be enough for cracks to appear, if not make the
walls fall in."
"Don't you ever talk about anything other than work, Krycek?" Mulder
asked, knowing it was an absurd question as soon as he asked it.
Krycek covered his complete astonishment with another long swallow of
soda. He supposed they were indeed 'working' together, although he
hadn't expressed it that way even to himself. He'd seen it more as
providing Mulder with the tools to get the work done. Besides, what
the fuck did Mulder want him to talk about? "What the fuck do you
want me to talk about, Mulder?" He said aloud, and Mulder was
startled. Krycek had been silent so long he'd thought his question
had been ignored.
"You want to hear the sad story of my life, how it all went wrong
when I was orphaned and left to make my way alone, in the snow?"
Krycek continued facetiously. "I know—you want to know what
fraternity I joined in college and my golf handicap? Oh, nothing
so plebian then, my favorite piece of art or poet? Maybe you want
indulgence instead, the first time I got laid perhaps, or would an
orgy description satisfy?"
Mulder felt his head spin. What button had he pushed so hard anyway?
It must have been a doozy, whatever it was. "Jesus Alex, I was just
attempting conversation."
"Why bother," Krycek said as he got up, took a pair of sweats and a t-
shirt out of his bag and headed for the bathroom, "you never believe
anything I say is the truth, anyway." He went into the bathroom, shut
the door and locked it.
My, my, my, Mulder mused, abashed by Krycek's scornful tone, and here
I thought he didn't care what I thought of him at all.
Mulder, occasionally, knew when to keep his mouth shut. Krycek came
out of the steamy bathroom, and Mulder handed him the remote, went in
and showered. The room was still steamy, but there was no water on
the floor or junk in the sink, and the damp towel had been hung
neatly on the rack. The soap Krycek'd used was in the baggie with his
other meager supplies, placed out of the way in the far corner by the
sink. He's not here even when he is here, Mulder thought with
nonsensical precision.
Krycek poured himself another coke and regained his equilibrium.
Mulder wanted to be buddies now, or something, that much was clear.
Why he wanted this was a mystery. His best guess was simply that
Mulder liked mind games and puzzles, and having a captive
Krycek to play with was just his style.
He ruthlessly tamped down other more personal bits of speculation,
then sighed to himself and let them flow. As long as Mulder was in
the shower he could speculate privately. After all this time, and all
the water under their respective bridges, nothing regarding Mulder
could be deemed casual, at least not to him. So even if Mulder leaned
towards tall green-eyed brunets of the masculine variety, and Krycek
suspected that he did indeed lean that-a-way, it was far too late.
Mulder came out of the bathroom, in black silk boxers, squeaky clean
and freshly shaved, plopped down on the end of Krycek's bed, tossed a
new box of condoms and a tube up next to his hand and said, "So Alex,
do tell me about the first time you got laid."
And The Beat Goes On...
Alex took the supplies and pushed them under the pillow beside him.
Propped himself up against the headboard, switched the TV remote to
the radio frequency and said, "Turn off the lights, Mulder."
For the first time in their entire history, Mulder obeyed him with
alacrity.
Alex decided to enjoy himself, neither miracles or Mulder had ever
come his way before, and if the contrary gods were going to throw
both at him in the selfsame gesture, he was going to grab them with
the one hand he had left and hold them tight.
He patted the empty side of the bed invitingly. Mulder grinned, took
the pillows off his own bed, added them to the pillow beside Alex and
joined him.
"Once upon a time," Alex began, and Mulder laughed. "There was a boy,
a lonely boy," Mulder kissed him. "He was on an overnight camping
trip with his youth league," Mulder rolled on top of him and kissed
him again. "Do you want to hear this or not?" Alex said,
breathlessly.
"Are you kidding?" Mulder replied and snaked his hand down inside the
elastic waist of Alex's sweats, "Of course I do. I want to hear
everything. But later, Alex later would be a good time. Just now," he
captured Alex's cock and squeezed. Alex moaned. "There are other
things," he ran his fingers under Alex's balls, "we really, really
need to do with your mouth."
"Okay," Alex panted, "later is good for me too." He pushed himself up
on his elbow, careful not to dislodge Mulder, and lightly bit his
shoulder. Mulder twitched, and Alex bit the same spot a little
harder. "I always loved 'lamb' chops," he breathed on Mulder's
neck, "rare with mint jelly."
Mulder laughed, pushed down Alex's pants, took his cock in his mouth
and sucked for a moment. 'Yellow Submarine' began to play on the
radio, the long version from the album. Mulder began to hum along,
and Alex growled. Mulder raised his head, looked Alex in the eye and
replied, "I knew I'd get the 'lion's' share, in fact, I was sure of
it." He went down on Alex and didn't come up for air until Alex said
entirely without mockery, "Thank god."
Mulder chuckled deep in his throat, came up for air and said, "Amen."
And The Beat Goes On...
While Alex recovered, Mulder shucked his boxers and drank what was
left in the cup of coke. He saw Alex had covered his eyes with his
arm and had bent his leg, half covering his nakedness. He still had
the t-shirt on, although it was bunched up to his armpits. He'd
wanted to 'destroy' Alex, in a good way, but he hadn't thought
further than a return demolition.
He took his time, iced another cup and poured another coke. Alex was
looking at him now. "Give me that," he said "and get back here."
Mulder complied; his arousal hadn't abated one iota, only now
something else had been added. A new dimension of intimacy,
perhaps even tenderness. He panicked for a moment. Fun and games,
machismo and a touch of sarcasm were all right in bed with a guy. He
saved tenderness, gentleness and all that came with it for his seldom
realized encounters with women, not that random sex with men occurred
with regularity, by any means.
Alex was staring at him over the rim of the cup. "I was raped by a
friend of my father's, with a pool cue. My father had died the year
before and my mother wouldn't let the friend 'comfort' her. He
decided to be useful and teach me to be a man instead. I was
fourteen and wild after my dad died. My mother worked twelve-hour
shifts on weekends. She was a nurse. He heard my buddies and I making
a lot of noise. I wasn't supposed to let them come over when my mom
was at work. He lived next door."
Mulder didn't breathe.
Alex continued, "It was Saturday night, his wife was out with their
kids. He kept the pool cue in the umbrella stand by the door 'just in
case'. I guess I should be grateful it wasn't a baseball bat." Mulder
reached out, but Alex batted his hand away and spilled the ice on
the sheets. "The door wasn't locked; he came right in—yelling and
cursing. My friends ran. He hit me across the arm with the stick. I
started screaming at him, "you're not my dad—you can't do this
to me". It made him crazy. He'd been drinking. He lost it, grabbed
me and pushed me over a chair. I think he meant to give me a beating,
but I was still wearing my bathing suit and it started to slide down,
baring my ass. It triggered something; he ripped the suit off and
screamed at me, "faggot—fucking faggot—I'll give it to
you up the ass, boy."
Mulder couldn't stand it; he swept the ice off the bed and pulled
Alex into his chest. They were both breathing hard. Alex made as if
to push back, but Mulder held on and wouldn't let go. "I didn't tell
my mom. His wife was her friend, and she was barely coping without my
dad anyway. He didn't touch me again and left off coming around."
Alex finally relaxed in Mulder's arms. "When I was in college I found
myself alone with this boy I admired a lot. I was so much more real
as Agent Alex than you could ever imagine, Mulder. He explained
himself to me. I wasn't repulsed exactly, and I was too lonely to not
be flattered. He was a sweet kid and completely sure of his identity.
He was unashamed, and his confidence impressed me. He seduced me, and
I allowed it. Somewhere in the middle of it all, I found I liked it
too."
Alex nuzzled Mulder's neck, "That was the first time I got laid."
"I believe you," Mulder whispered.
"Good," Alex whispered in return and pushed Mulder back onto the bed.
Billy Joel crooned in the background, 'Yes, they're sharing a drink
they call loneliness But it's better than drinkin' alone', while Alex
began his siege of Mulder.
He demolished him first with kisses, sweet and cool from the iced
coke. He changed key and became fierce over chest and abs. Mulder
sang a continuous harmony in ragged moans and pleas. Alex became the
hunter when he searched out every weakness, feasting on cock and
balls and asshole. He brought out the condom box and the lube. "Put
it on yourself, Mulder, hurry." Mulder's hands were clumsy, but he
didn't falter. Alex got astride him. "Do me with the lube." He never
let up on Mulder's mouth, his neck or his shoulders. His mouth was a
furnace now.
Mulder squeezed the cool gel on his fingers. He closed his eyes, it
was too much, and they weren't even there yet. He found Alex's
opening and circled it trying to take his time. Alex hissed and
leaned onto his fingers, "Hurry," he whispered again. Mulder slid a
finger in; the second almost didn't fit, so tight, he was so
tight. "Now," Alex panted.
"No, no, it'll hurt, let me..." Mulder choked out.
"Now," Alex demanded, "fuck me now." He moved up off of Mulder's
fingers and positioned himself over Mulder's erection. "You have to
do it," Alex said, "I can't balance myself."
Mulder realized Alex's arm was shaking with the effort to support his
weight. He grabbed his cock and found his way. As soon as Alex felt
the broad tip line up he pushed back. Mulder helplessly thrust in.
And The Beat Goes On...
Alex came back to bed after he'd cleaned himself up. Mulder had
shaken out the pillows and straightened the sheet. Alex took off his
t-shirt. He added his gun to the collection under his pillows.
The midnight news came on the radio; mercifully they kept it brief.
The late night DJ had a whiskey voice and announced the late night
jazz lineup. Brubeck began the set. Mulder and Alex lay side by side.
When the drummer began the counterpoint to the piano, Mulder reached
across Alex's chest, took his hand and brought it to his lips, kissed
it and entwined laid both on his hip, "Collaboration, Alex," he said
gently as if the idea itself was a tenuous thing and could snap at
any moment.
Alex turned towards Mulder and brought their hands up to cover
Mulder's heart, his damaged left side was pressed against Mulder.
"The lion lay down with the lamb, which was really a clever fox in
disguise," Alex murmured.
"A very clever fox," Mulder echoed.
Shirley Bassey took over after Brubeck, and then the DJ played an
extended set by Ella and Satchmo.
And The Beat Goes On...
They woke to Lind's light, tenor voice singing the very last
refrain 'Across my dreams with nets of wonder—I chase the bright
elusive butterfly of love' They'd slept the night through, together.
Krycek was surprised because his last thought had been to get up and
move to the other bed.
He was getting up and heading for the toilet and the shower, but
Mulder hooked an am around his waist, mid-rise. Mulder kissed his
shoulder blade and bit down gently. Krycek stiffened. "I can't
remember the last time I was with someone through the night and
wanted to stay to have breakfast," Mulder said, into the back of
Krycek's neck.
"You remember everything, Mulder." Krycek replied.
"Not everything, and ancient history was never my strongest suite,"
Mulder added a caressing hand to the warm kisses, working his way
down Krycek's back.
Krycek stretched into the sensations, "I can't remember anything
feeling this good."
"Even last night?" Mulder asked.
Krycek twisted his back sinuously against Mulder's chest, "Better,"
he said, "this is better; don't stop."
"Oh," Mulder pulled Krycek back down and pushed him on his
stomach, "Don't worry about a thing. I'm not stopping anytime soon."
He rose on his knees and began a strong kneading, starting at
Krycek's shoulders and continuing down his back. He skipped over
the buttocks and massaged his legs deeply, using his fist to push
hard into the corded muscles. Krycek groaned.
Mulder reached his feet, and Krycek began to believe in God
again. "Mulder, this is too good—too much. I can't stand it."
"Oh yes you can; you can take it. It's going to be fine, I'm going to
make you feel so good," Mulder murmured and bit down on Krycek's
Achilles tendon.
Krycek reacted with, "Christ!" His ass rose off the bed.
"Yes, yes," Mulder said as he worked his way with small sucking
bites, back up Krycek's legs, "just like that." He didn't pass over
the ass this time. He rubbed the firm roundness and reached up to
retrieve the lube. "Slow this time, Alex. Gonna do you slow."
He placed his greased fingers in Krycek's channel and rubbed back and
forth, but not in. Alex wriggled his hips entreatingly.
Mulder laughed, deep in his throat. "If you knew, Alex... if you
knew how much I want to have it all. I want to watch my hand give it
to you one finger at a time and make you swallow my fist. I want you
to twist on it until there is nothing left between me and your guts,
and then I wanna reach all the way to your heart."
"Fuck, fuck, Mulder... god damn!" Alex cried out in agonized
arousal as Mulder slipped a second finger in, massaging his prostrate
ruthlessly. "I can't stand it," he gasped out, half pleading for more
and half afraid as Mulder's blatant sex words ratcheted up his
need.
"Oh you can, baby, you can. And you will," Mulder added a third
finger with just a hint of roughness.
Mulder thought he'd never been part of a more totally sexual
experience in his life. That he had initiated it and was in control
turned some hitherto unknown animal brain on. He removed his hand and
watched Krycek's hole quiver and start to contract. He bent three
fingers and plowed back in with his knuckles, twisting his wrist.
Alex screamed and began to climax. Mulder quickly leaned over and
rammed his cock deep, until Alex screamed again, his orgasm
tightening his asshole around Mulder's penis.
Mulder grunted and came.
A scant second of peaceable silence was ruined when he yelped, "Fuck,
Alex! I forgot to use a condom."
Alex began to laugh weakly, surprising him. "This is funny?" Mulder
asked.
Alex laughed some more and wondered why he was so amused lying there
wasted, in a pool of his own semen, ass all loose, sore and slimed
and happier than he'd ever been in his life. Mulder's panicked and
pissy tone only made him laugh harder.
"Fuck, Mulder!" He mimicked, "You certainly did, fuck... that is."
He chuckled at his own wit, and Mulder smacked his leg. "This is
serious, asshole!" He said.
Alex gave way to paroxysms of laughs, "Asshole... yes! Well you
would certainly know about that, huh?" He turned over and dragged
Mulder down into the stickiness of his chest, rolling him into the
wet spot. He held him there, still laughing. Mulder scowled, but he
couldn't hold the expression. Whoever 'this' reckless, charming and
absurd person was, he was sure he'd never met him before, but damn if
he wasn't someone he wanted to keep around.
Alex rubbed his sweaty unkempt hair all over the mess that had spread
to Mulder's chest and groin. Mulder squirmed under the assault. "Quit
it!" He said. "You ticklish, Mulder?" Alex asked and lightening fast
grabbed just above his kneecap and jimmied it. Mulder howled and
tried to shake Alex off.
Alex stopped tickling and bit Mulder's other knee, hard. Mulder
yelled, "What the hell was that for?" Alex got up and bent over him,
kissed his mouth lingeringly and with expertise. When Mulder sank
into the kiss and returned it, Alex pulled away, "I'm gonna fuck you
blind later. Fuck. You. Blind. Bitch. Just thought I'd let you know."
Having made his point he snatched up his sweats and went into the
bathroom.
Mulder gaped, open mouthed, at the closed door. Christ-on-a-crutch!
Who was that masked man? And laughed helplessly amidst the mess. I
can't wait for my lion to roar tonight, he thought.
And The Beat Goes On...
Katie Couric was chatting up Bette Midler on the Today Show when
Mulder got out of the shower. Alex had donned his check-in disguise
and broke his own rule. He went out to forage for breakfast and good
coffee.
Mulder didn't doubt for a moment he would return and felt strangely
lighthearted because he wasn't afraid Alex would set him up or betray
him this time. He argued with himself that the sex hadn't made the
difference in his outlook and finally admitted that this was
partially true, but not the whole truth. He still had no explanations
for how or why or what Alex was, or who he had been within the
Syndicate. He knew Alex was guilty of murder and assorted other
serious crimes. Perhaps what had changed was Mulder himself. It
wasn't that the crimes didn't matter anymore, either the ones he'd
seen and felt personally or the others—the ones he only suspected.
It was more that the years of chasing shadows on his white charger
had yielded so little in results or progress compared to the pain.
Perhaps it was that Alex was real, good and bad, somehow solid in
Mulder's world of wraiths.
He'd always gone with his instincts, trusted in them, been betrayed
by them on occasion, but overall they'd led him onward. Whatever Alex
had been before Tunguska, he was not going to betray Mulder again.
Mulder opened the laptop and began to work, hoping Alex would return
soon with large coffees and a huge breakfast.
Alex ordered just about everything on the breakfast menu and was
having his first cup of coffee while he waited for the order to
arrive. His mood remained rather fuzzily happy. He wondered about
this unusual lack of wariness and caution. It meant another hard fall
when their time together ran out and they returned to business. He'd
avoided anything near emotional attachment for years. It was simply
too dangerous and made him sloppy.
The last time had been with Mulder as well. Certainly not at their
current intimacy level, but back when they'd worked together and he
had begun to relax and Mulder had started to rely on him. He'd been
vulnerable then, vulnerable to the allure of friendship and trust
from this brilliant and handsome man, regardless of the increasing
pressure coming from Spender.
Ah well, he thought as he sipped his coffee—that was then. He
smiled and shifted in his seat, enjoying the ache. Who the hell would
have guessed they would venture so far—so fast this time around.
Or, for that matter that Mulder would turn out to be so ruthlessly
thorough and uninhibited in bed.
His order was ready, and he poured himself another coffee, gathered
up the bags and started back to the motel. He really wasn't overly
concerned about the two of them being discovered. His tracks were
well hidden.
When he parked the car and made his way to the room, he was amazed to
find he was actually more sure than not that Mulder was waiting for
him in the same mood in which he'd left him. Something had changed
and not just because of the sex. It scared him. There was so much at
stake, and now, with so many feelings involved, it behooved them
both to remember their place in the scheme of things.
He shrugged it off. He could have these few days. Just once in his
life, he was entitled to some happiness. Besides, he had a return
engagement in bed waiting. He was determined to fulfill the promise
he'd made.
And The Beat Goes On...
Alex tapped on the door and Mulder unlocked and opened it, keeping
himself covered behind it. "Coffee!" he exclaimed and took a bag out
of Alex's arms. Mulder moved the laptop to the bed, and they sat at
the small table and dug in.
"God," Mulder said through his food, "I haven't gorged on a breakfast
like this in a long time." He snagged some more of the pancakes and
transferred them to his plate. He gave Alex a sly look, "Must've
worked up an appetite somehow."
Alex gave him a clear cool look in return and slowly bit into a
crispy slice of bacon. He chewed slowly, never taking his eyes off
Mulder and carefully licked the greasy residue off his fingers. He
offered the next bite to Mulder. After Mulder bit it he said, "That's
right Fox, chow down; you need to get that energy level of yours
way..." he put the rest of the piece in his mouth and once again,
chewed it slowly, licking his lips, "...way up," he concluded and
took a sip of coffee.
Mulder stared at him. Grinning, he rose, walked around the table,
picked up a rather squashed strawberry and smeared it across Alex's
lips. He bent and licked it off and when Alex leaned into the kiss,
backed off. "Vitamin C and all that, you know, it builds strong
bones and a healthy disposition."
Chagrined at having his own trick played back on him so soon, he
smiled at Mulder and saluted him with another strip of bacon. Mulder
laughed. "Speaking of a 'healthy' disposition," Mulder began in a
questioning tone, Alex interrupted, "Clean," He said in a serious
voice, "I'm clean."
"Good, I am too," Mulder, answered the question as well.
"I wasn't too worried," Alex, said, his voice remaining
serious, "some things are worth the risk."
Mulder leaned back down and kissed Alex, taking his time, kissed his
forehead, his cheek and finally his mouth. They were soft kisses, and
he said gently, "Yes. Some things are worth it."
Alex turned his face into Mulder's stomach, and Mulder held him
there. He cupped Alex's head and then his neck. He sank to his knees,
and they exchanged places, Mulder's head now pillowed against Alex's
abdomen. "Come on," Alex said, "finish your food."
Mulder rose and sat at the table. They resumed eating. A celebrity
game show came on the TV and Alex clicked it back to radio.
Midmorning oldies played softly.
They finished breakfast and worked on the files, trying to choose
which information was the least traceable back to Alex, and most
provable, to be credited to Mulder. It was difficult to decipher. The
chain of experimentation was rather clear, but the choices of
subjects made less sense. Men. Women, children of all ages and races
were present, but no clear pattern of commonality popped up.
Mulder took a break and made some of the instant coffee. Alex turned
up the volume on the radio. Stevie Wonder was crooning and Alex
hummed along, tapping the edge of the table with his pen.
Mulder watched Alex and thought about asking him how he'd become a
victim of the one-armed brigands. He almost voiced the question when
he realized it didn't matter. Alex had somehow survived, and Mulder
realized, with sudden insight, it would shame him to have to explain
the horror and detail the recovery. Caught up in his dawning
epiphany, Mulder leaned against the wall and considered the chain of
events that bound them together. It wasn't about truth and lies or
crime and punishment, maybe it hadn't ever been. It was about free
will. On the surface it appeared as if Mulder had chosen to be
dedicated to his obsessive quest, and Alex determined to amass power
within a lawless syndicate.
What lay below the surface was the key. Two young men, it was
possible there were others, but he knew of only the two of them.
Krycek and himself, and their shared imperative to be stronger than
the pain inflicted upon them. They shared the same set of
manipulative elders and performed in the same arena, paths
crisscrossing time and time again.
Their need for approval and inclusion had not been shameful or weak;
all young craved guidance, respect and love. If they didn't have it
at home, they found it where they could, and when they found it to be
false, they abandoned hope and set off alone, becoming isolated and
further from the ideal.
They'd played their roles to perfection, countering each other with
lies, violence and pain. Like stags in rutting season, they'd butted
their proud young antlers until they were both blooded, but the
manipulative old head of the herd had been cunning. He'd waited
until they were damaged and exhausted, and then he could easily
maintain his superior position, beating them both with skill instead
of might.
Mulder felt a sudden piercing joy. Somehow they'd each survived with
enough 'self' intact to stop the game and work together. If they were
daring and acknowledged their need to belong again, if only to each
other, maybe they had a chance. "Alex," he said in a choked voice.
Alex looked up and, catching the expression on Mulder's face, stopped
tapping and came to full attention. "Alex," Mulder said again in a
stronger voice, "let's to to bed. Make love to me, with me, we've
been out in the cold such a long time."
And The Beat Goes On...
Alex got up. He knew this wasn't simply a request to fuck. Mulder had
moved on to a new place, one that included some dangerous
implications. 'Make love' was something altogether different than
having great, uninhibited romps for the weekend. He felt a
yearning to comply, to give in to this man and allow needs like this
to surface unimpeded and acknowledged openly. Trust Mulder to dare to
even suggest the attempt. But he knew this would be much harder to
walk away from. Possibly to leave at all.
"We have work to do," he said flatly, but Mulder had also risen and
taken his hand. The simple gesture threatened to destroy him. "We
have work to do," he repeated. "It's important. We can screw around,
I want to, you want to, but we have to keep our heads clear here,
Mulder. This isn't a good idea. We have to leave in a couple of days.
There is no future to this."
"Don't panic, Alex," Mulder said gently and tugged him toward the
unmade bed. "It'll be just fine. This is just us, for us alone. We
can and must continue the work, but we can have more than that
between us now. We'll be stronger, I promise. Together we can be
tougher and surer because 'we' have taken some measure of control for
ourselves. This has been what we've been robbed of all these years,
you know."
"And when you doubt me the next time? What then? You'll decide this
was part of the deceit, some ruse to take advantage of your
loneliness. I know you Mulder. A week back at the Bureau and some new
dead end or missing evidence and 'Krycek' will be to blame or have a
hand in it. Then you'll think about the intimacies and add e 'outing'
you to your list of grievances. What about the next syndicate asshole
who 'dies' before testifying or a new rash of abductees? You'll write
my name all over those too." Alex struggled to resist as Mulder
undressed and began tugging the zipper of his jeans.
Mulder wasn't dissuaded by Alex's fears and warnings. He undressed
and began to work on Alex's clothing. He'd kicked his boots off
during breakfast, so when Mulder dragged down his pants and poked him
until he sat on the bed; there was no impediment to getting them off.
He was sitting there, still lecturing Mulder about what a bad idea
this was and looking vaguely ridiculous in his shirt and socks and
undeniable hard-on.
"You look stupid in those socks, tough guy, here let me get them
off," Mulder said interrupting him and went down on his knees. He did
remove the socks, but he didn't stop there. He'd gotten Alex's number
earlier. Feet. Alex was a sucker for having his feet touched. Mulder
began to caress his feet and Alex stopped mid-sentence and groaned.
"Fuck Mulder, you have to stop this." Mulder paid no attention at all
and stroking an ankle he grasped Alex's cock with his other hand.
Without preamble he took it into his mouth.
Alex pushed him away, stood up and practically tore his shirt off. He
left the arm attached, "Get in the bed, Mulder. Now. If my words
aren't getting through to you, I'll make you understand this way." He
had Mulder on his back and savagely bit his thigh.
Mulder laughed, "Come on bad boy, show me."
The taunt made a red haze form in front of Alex's eyes, "I am, you
bastard, you think everything has been a fucking joke? You think this
is a game, bitch? Brandy and moonlit walks? So you got some ass for
the first time in ages, and my ass at that, and you think it is
romance?" He was panting now as he continued to bite and pinch and
scrape his nails across every available inch of Mulder's body. He
propped his hard left arm between Mulder's legs. "I could fuck you
with this hand, cunt, and make you come. Just like you'll come with
my dick up your ass. You're so sure that it's 'love', Fox?" Alex
mouthed Mulder's balls and added a hint of teeth.
Mulder gave a momentary thought to being afraid. Alex could hurt him
if he wanted to, or was angry enough or to prove his point. But he
didn't think that would happen. Alex wouldn't be so pissed if he,
Mulder, hadn't tempted him, made him yearn for tenderness.
Besides, this was its own liberation, of sorts, to let himself be
savaged and impaled and 'wanted' so damn much. He'd win, they both
would. Alex would burn out the fear in both of them, and what
survived the flame would be honed steel.
"Come on tiger, fuck me blind. I'm waiting, leather boy, show me your
stuff," Mulder taunted again, "Take us all the way, anywhere you
want, however you want it."
Alex let go. He let go of every caution, consideration and reason why
committing himself to Mulder's fire was a bad idea. He was going to
fuck Mulder, finally, finally... echoed in his head, and not just
once, not just this time. Mulder wanted a relationship? Well he was
going to have one and take it whenever he, Alex, wanted it. Mulder
would have to kill him to stop it after this.
He continued his assault on Mulder's body, gentling only slightly
when realized Mulder was going to allow him anything and was not
afraid. He maneuvered him onto his knees and made him place his hands
on the footboard. This would secure Mulder's position when he mounted
him from behind and allow Alex free use of his hand to fondle
Mulder's cock.
Mulder got the idea and offered himself willingly as Alex prepared
him quickly. He felt the thick tip of Alex's erection press against
him, and deliberately Mulder exhaled, deciding he wasn't going to add
to very real possibility of pain. Alex entered him inexorably, but
with care. When he was fully penetrated, it seemed to Mulder that
Alex underwent a massive change in mood. The thrusts, instead of
being hard and fast, became languorous and sensual, sliding cock-head
to root slowly. Alex's stopped pinching and scoring his flesh, and
his caresses became light and teasing. He skimmed chest, abs,
nipples and cock with an appreciative hand. Mulder found himself
gasping and pushing back for more.
Alex gripped Mulder's erection and found he couldn't resist kissing
the back of Mulder's neck and shoulders. Beautiful, beautiful, he
thought as Mulder's back flexed and became shiny with sweat. In the
end, he found he didn't want Mulder this way and withdrew from his
body. "Turn around," he whispered, 'lay on your back now."
Mulder barely heard the soft instructions, but he moved immediately
to comply. He would have done anything, at this point, to have Alex
back inside him. When Mulder offered himself to Alex, raising his
knees and spreading his ass, Alex felt that this was more than he
could stand and ever return to himself and what he had been before.
He penetrated Mulder slowly and lay belly-to-belly, chest-to-chest
upon him. He kissed Mulder's cheeks, ears and neck and picked up the
pace of his slides in and out of Mulder's ass. He got his hand
between them and took hold of Mulder's cock. Mulder braced himself on
his forearms and arched his ass. They were fucking in perfect sync
and as Mulder began to orgasm, Alex did too and panted in his ear, "I
love you... I love you."
And The Beat Goes On...
Mulder found the remote control. He clicked off the radio, reached
over and turned off the light. With the curtains still drawn, the
motel room settled into a dim, cool cocoon while they caught their
breath and used the crumpled sheet to wipe themselves off. Mulder
snatched the bedcover and tossed it over both of them. He laid his
head in the crook of Alex's shoulder and held him close. "I love you
too, you know," he said simply.
"Yeah," Alex answered, "I know."
"Good," Mulder said and dozed off. Alex joined him a few moments
later.
They woke near nine P.M. and ordered Chinese. Showered and dressed,
Alex went looking for the linen room and returned with clean sheets
and towels. After they ate, he went out once more and stuffed the
dirty laundry on the maid's cart and the accumulated trash in the
dumpster. The bed was made when he returned. By mutual decision, they
didn't work, but found a movie and watched it together, critiquing
the inept and unbelievable adventure of the hero, on his impossible
mission to save the world.
Krycek turned it off before the pedestrian sidekick and the lovely
leading lady saved the day, and the hero got the credit. "How are we
going to have a relationship and maintain our positions safely?" He
asked.
Mulder stretched and considered his answer. "I'm not sure. We've been
meeting fairly often for months, but only for a few minutes or an
hour or two at a time. I don't want to see you just to fuck. I want
that as a major component, of course," punched Alex lightly in the
gut.
Alex grinned, "Of course."
"What we have together is more than either of us expected. In a way,
this gives us power we did not previously possess. No one, not even
the Brit, and certainly not Spender, would ever believe we could
trust each other."
"Well," Alex interrupted, "Neither will Skinner or Scully."
"Yes," Mulder went on, "this gives us an edge. While all of them
believe we are forever at odds and full of trickery and hate, we can
work together on a level they would never imagine. Skinner and Scully
won't shoot you on sight, and I think I can convince them not to
arrest you either. They won't be pleasant to you, if you do meet up,
but they will trust me enough to believe I am benefiting from our
association, especially if I have new, solid information from time to
time. They just never need to get wind of exactly how close our
association really is. By the same token, the Brit and Spender will
use you to feed me false information. I will just have to be 'duped'
often enough to maintain the pretense. In fact, I think they will be
pleased to think I am so desperate I would even begin to 'trust' you
again. This will make me seem more inept and ineffective than ever."
"That might work in theory or for a short time," Krycek said. "It
runs the risk, though, of them ordering me to do something major to
screw you over, if it benefits them."
"We will just have to be very careful to keep in touch. We can work
out the details of each situation as it arises and keep all of us as
safe as possible. There are no guarantees, but then we have never had
any. All I know for sure is that we have to find a way to be
together, both for the work and for us. We've each waited a lifetime
to belong to someone the way we do now. It's more than the 'romance'
you accused me of earlier. It is our life force. In many ways it is
what began the whole mess," Mulder explained.
Alex considered Mulder's assessment of their situation. He did
possess more autonomy than he'd actually let on, and the Brit was
more of an ally than he'd let Mulder know. Spender had become almost
an outcast among the other members, his personal agendas interfering
with too many of their own and the group's projects.
Still, he hesitated, he knew himself very well and doubted he could
maintain a relationship based on the kind of emotional attachment
Mulder was describing. Yes, his heart yearned and his libido was more
than keen, but... just fuck! "Look Mulder, it's not as if either of
us are poster children for the well adjusted."
Mulder snorted, "You got that right. So we'll be maladjusted
together. It's not as if we're setting up house, you know. I need
you. I need to be able to express things without all the posturing. I
want to be affectionate, damn-it, and have you know it doesn't make
me a weakling or a whiny bottom boy. You've got to admit we've come
pretty far along those lines so far. I believe you need me in the
same way." He paused, searching for the right words, "It's like
this," he turned towards Alex and cupped his jaw. "I can tell you I
love you, want you, 'worry' about you and yet, we both know it
doesn't stop the work we have to do. In return you express what you
feel, and I don't judge you."
"I'm not sure I know how," Alex began. "We can try, Mulder, but don't
push so hard. Sometimes, hell, most of the time we're not going to be
able to have 'quality' moments, you know. Information exchanges, some
B&E, whatever and a quick fuck, if we're lucky. There simply won't be
the luxury of hanging out."
Mulder eased the tension, having won the concession from Alex to
consider a relationship at all. He chuckled, "Shit, Alex—
information, a security breach and a quick fuck is a wet dream come
true."
"Yeah, it is at that," Alex echoed.
Agreement reached, they undressed, returned to bed and actually slept
the night through.
And The Beat Goes On...
Four months after the first weekend together, Mulder rented an
efficiency apartment on the third floor of his Hegal Place apartment
building. He had the Lone Gunmen arrange the deal and as far as the
management knew John Byers was the new tenant. Inexpensive
Alexandria apartments were known for being occupied by transient
Yuppies in government service, so no one was interested when John's
friend, also named Jon, came and went as well. It was the most secure
two-room flat in the state of Virginia.
Jon always arrived in a suit and tie and with a suitcase; John Byers
was always dressed in a suit as well. They both had beards, and Jon
wore glasses. Mulder visited the apartment, but the two J's were
never there at the same time. None of the tenants noticed.
The Brit and Spender, knowing John Byers was a friend of Mulder's and
suspecting they were collaborating on the known type of Lone Gunmen
interests, soon disregarded Mulder's stop-ins. They tried to bug the
place occasionally, but were neither surprised nor alarmed to have
their bugs discovered. They did know the LGM capabilities, after all.
Scully, pleased John was asserting some independence from the other
Gunmen, bought a house-warming gift of an easy to care for plant, and
most of the time forgot he was even here. If she arrived at Mulder's
without notice, she simply let herself in his apartment. She called
John's, if she did not know Mulder's whereabouts, and if he were
there he would come upstairs right away. Skinner did not know, and if
he had known, wouldn't have cared in any case.
The LGM knew that Jon was Krycek. It had taken Mulder a lot of time,
effort and six-packs to convince them that Krycek was worth
protecting as his prime informer.
Alex, being more paranoid than all of them combined, set up his own
counter espionage and debugged the bugs the LGM left behind to bug
him.
Six months after the motel weekend, Alex finally deemed it safe
enough to stay at apartment 38 Hegal Place for an extended period. He
arrived with beard on, two suitcases and a grocery bag. Mrs. McCann,
who lived in No 27, was happy to hold the elevator for him. Alex
thanked her nicely, he knew all about her and, for that matter, all
the rest of the tenants at Hegal Place. He had visited No. 38 before,
but never when Mulder was around. He'd wanted to secure it first.
They had seen each other during the past six months. Fleeting
meetings, under less than ideal circumstances, and unsatisfactory in
just about every way. The secured emails generated better results.
Alex felt more comfortable writing to Mulder than trying to get
his thoughts in order on the spur of the moment. His whole life had
been reactive to stress and immediate stimuli, writing was a luxury,
and he was more open and truthful for the time it took to ponder.
He put away the groceries and started a pot of coffee. He was
thoughtful as he removed the beard, glasses, left arm and the suit.
They had 'talked'. Such a simple thing on the surface, and yet they
had never really done so except for that weekend, six months ago.
So they talked the way he imagined normal people did when they tried
to get to know each other. Movies, armaments, books, surveillance
devices, a few childhood things, but not a lot of that, and a deep
difference of opinion over sports made up most of the letters.
They had avoided some things entirely—his arm, Bill Mulder, Scully,
and how he'd become involved with Spender to begin with. They'd been
careful about a few other things too. Mulder was adamant about being
completely hetero, even with his friends. In that lie, Alex began to
understand how Mulder could become his lover and possibly allow past
wrongs to remain unavenged. He wasn't a psychologist, but he was an
astute judge of people, especially those who devoted a lifetime to
being something or making of themselves, something other than what
they were.
Still and all, it had been a courtship of sorts.
Alex wanted this day alone in the apartment. He would send Mulder an
email to let him know he was there later in the day. He showered and
made the bed. On his previous visits to the place, he'd brought some
things and stored them in a closet. He brought them out now, a pile
of bed pillows because he was more comfortable and sex was easier
when he could prop them under his left shoulder, a pile of cds
because he'd never had a place before where he could collect and
store his favorites, and likewise a pile of books. They were all new,
and he undid the plastic wrappings, stacking them on a shelf. Byers,
following Mulder's directions, had furnished the place simply, but
had left space for Alex to keep stuff. He unpacked the extra suitcase
into empty drawer space. He briefly regretted the need for his
disguise, it would be a pain to put on every time he left the
apartment, but it was a needed precaution. It was simple enough to
throw on the glasses, and the beard only took a moment to attach, if
someone came to the door unexpectedly, they would just have to wait.
He ate a sandwich, fiddled with the TV and emailed Mulder. This was
it. Soon Mulder would be there, and they would be together. He turned
on a cd. He'd listened to it in on the classical station a few weeks
ago while on a long drive. The enormity of the depth of the art of
these men had struck him. They had not been afraid to express
themselves and the beauty they had created lasted well beyond their
own lifetimes. He'd thought it suited the moment and bought it to
play for Mulder. He thought Mulder would appreciate both the music
and the meaning.
And The Beat Goes On...
Stuck in traffic on I-270 between Jermantown and the capitol beltway,
Mulder opened his laptop and checked his mail. Scully was driving and
they had reached an impasse regarding their current case. They
continued to argue amicably about who was going to tell Skinner about
the unauthorized side trip they'd made to Hagerstown. The address had
been bogus, but the dent to the fender of the Bureau car was real
enough.
Alex had set up an email account purporting to be a new organization
of college students who believed in ETs. Mulder read the email with
growing excitement.
From: ETGenerations@UST.org
To: FMulder@Basement/FBI.gov
Re: New Recruit
Dear Mr. Mulder, Happy to report the freshman dorm at UST has a new
member of the organization in residence. I know the growth of
ETGenerations has been slow to recruit new members, but the new one
shows promise of being exceedingly interested. I think he may turn
out to be a serious addition to our group. Sincerely, RSTurner
Mulder read the email with growing excitement. Finally! Alex was
going to stay at the apartment. He replied immediately.
From: FMulder@Basement/FBI.gov
To: ETGenerations@UST.org
Re: Re: New Recruit
Dear Mr. Turner, Glad your membership is growing. This one may be a
keeper and fully invest in the organization. I certainly hope he
stays for the duration of his enrollment. I will check in with you
shortly and see how he is doing. Yours, FWMulder
Feeling a burst of energy and wanting to get the loose ends of his
current case tied up, Mulder wrote up the report to Skinner as they
continued to inch their way along the highway.
Scully was surprised by Mulder's willingness to get right to it, but
was happy at the prospect of an actual weekend without paperwork to
do. They finished the report and changed places in the car. With
Mulder driving, Scully wrote up her findings and a brief mea culpa
regarding the vehicle. They emailed the whole thing to Skinner's
office. By the time they reached the Capitol Beltway, they were in
both pleased to be ahead of the game and decided to return to the
Hoover building only briefly before starting the weekend.
Mulder made a quick stop in the basement office and shoved some files
into his briefcase. He requisitioned another vehicle and headed for
Alexandria. He stopped only once, to pick up a slew of books he'd
ordered. They were copies of his favorites and he wanted Alex to have
them. Alex had objected when Mulder wanted to move them to No. 38,
claiming that he and Byers were not that close. Mulder conceded and
bought Alex the new copies. He saw a selection of fine chocolates at
the checkout counter and bought a box of them as well.
He went to his apartment first, switched his phone line, courtesy of
the LGM, to ring in No. 38 and took a quick shower. Armed with his
cell phone, gifts, last night's leftovers and a bottle of Scotch, he
headed downstairs. The stairs were empty.
He suffered no bout of nerves or hesitation. The past six months had
only whetted his need to move forward with Alex. He'd given up trying
to make sense of it, enemy, friend, lover, enigma; Alex was all these
things and more. The equal physicality of the sex and the imperfect
beauty of his body made Mulder ache with longing. There hadn't been
time or safety to do more than blow each other since the weekend six
months ago, and even that indulgence had been rare.
He was glad he'd seen and bought the chocolates. Later, he planned to
feed them to Alex slowly and make up for lost time. There were a few
things he wanted to teach Alex and making out was one of them. Alex
had been loath to kiss him, except in the heat of the moment, and he
wanted that mouth, oh yes, he wanted those lips, and all that went
with them.
And The Beat Goes On
Alex unlocked the door, and Mulder, arms full, entered. He motioned
for Alex to take the stuff he held in his right arm. He took the
bottle of Scotch and the leftovers and headed for the kitchenette.
Mulder tossed the rest of the stuff on the table and crowded Alex
against the cabinets. Alex turned towards him, and suddenly they were
both very serious.
Mulder, his eyes bright, said, "You're here."
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Do you know why you're here?" Mulder asked, seriously.
For a moment Alex wanted to punch him, hit him, smash his fist
against Mulder's jaw. Why does he always have to push so hard? I'm
here, aren't I?
Mulder waited.
"I'm here to be with you," Alex answered slowly.
Mulder smiled, "I'm here to be with you too."
"We're going to make a life, try to live the life we have, here
together, Alex. It won't be easy, and it's full of risk." Mulder put
his hands on the cabinet behind Alex, imprisoning him. Alex
stiffened. "I can't keep you here with brute strength. I can't force
you to stay, anymore than I can will you to be happy. I want you to
be here with me, and I hope you'll be happy being here. I want to be
with you and, as insanely inexplicable as it may well be, I feel this
is the way to whatever happiness we're going to find."
"Mulder, Christ! I don't know how to talk this way, say these kinds
of things," Alex replied, "and... and tie it all up in promises.
I'm here; against everything reasonable I'm here. Let's just get on
with it and live. I wouldn't be here, if I didn't want to try."
"Okay Alex, come see the presents I brought you, but first..."
Mulder kissed him. Then Mulder kissed him again, and Alex's arm went
around his back and held him tight. "Hi lover," Mulder
whispered, "I'm home."
"Good," Alex replied and lightly bit Mulder's neck, "Just so you
know," he ran his tongue across Mulder's ear, "I intend to be very
high in the maintenance department, so it's a good thing you came
bearing gifts." And Alex laughed and pushed Mulder away
and started towards the bags on the table.
Mulder laughed too and grabbed him by the elbow, "Now wait just a
minute..." he said.
The End
Love Me Tender
Love me tender, love me sweet,
Break On Through
You know the day destroys the night
Yellow Submarine
IN THE TOWN WHERE I WAS BORN,
WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE,
AND OUR FRIENDS ARE ALL ABOARD,
WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE,
FULL SPEED AHEAD, MISTER PARKER, FULL SPEED AHEAD!
AS WE LIVE A LIFE OF EASE,
WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE,
WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE,
Piano Man
It's nine o' clock on a saturdayThe regular crowd shuffles in
Da da da da de de daDa da de de da da
Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
Da da ...
Now Paul is a realestate novelist,
INSTRUMENTAL
It's a pretty good crowd for a saturday,And the manager gives me a
Da da...
Dave Brubeck—Take Five
Bob Lind
You might wake up some mornin'
Don't be concerned, it will not harm you
You might have heard my footsteps
Don't be concerned, it will not harm you
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
Laughing Matters
Live at Five and CNN
Bad guys win.
Time bombs tick.
The truth is scarier by far
Oh, what to do, what to do?
'Cause there's a place in the sun
Like an old dusty road
'Cause there's a place in the sun
The Surfarius/Instrumental
The Lion Sleeps Tonight (Wimoweh)
We-de-de-de, de-de-de-de-de de, we-um-um-a-way (drum fill)
(repeat wimoweh chorus with vocal ad lib)
Night Tracks
John Denver
Almost heaven, West Virgina
(Chorus) Country roads, take me home
All my memories gather 'round her
(Chorus)
I hear her voice, in the morning hour she calls to me
(Chorus)
And the Beat Goes On
And The Beat Goes On
by Flutesong
And the Beat Goes On...
Love Me Tender
Break On Through
Yellow Submarine
Piano Man
Take Five
Elusive Butterfly
Bathhouse Betty
Movin' On
Wipe Out
Quiet Time
Night Tracks
Country Roads
Elvis
Never let me go.
You have made my life complete
And I love you so.
Chorus:
Love me tender, love me true,
All my dreams fulfill.
For, my darling, I love you
And I always will.
Love me tender, love me long,
Take me to your heart.
For it's there that I belong
And we'll never part.
Chorus
Love me tender, love me dear,
Tell me you are mine.
I'll be yours through all the years
Till the end of time.
Chorus
When at last my dreams come true,
Darling this I'll know
Happiness will follow you
Everywhere you go
Chorus
Doors
Night divides the day
Tried to run
Tried to hide
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side, yeah
We chased our pleasures here
Dug our treasures there
But can you still recall
The time we cried
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side
Yeah!
C'mon, yeah
Everybody loves my baby
Everybody loves my baby
She get
She get
She get
She get high
I found an island in your arms
Country in your eyes
Arms that chain us
Eyes that lie
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side
Break on through, oww!
Oh, yeah!
Made the scene
Week to week
Day to day
Hour to hour
The gate is straight
Deep and wide
Break on through to the other side
Break on through to the other side
Break on through X4
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Lennon and McCarthy
LIVED A MAN WHO SAILED TO SEA.
AND HE TOLD US OF HIS LIFE
IN THE LAND OF SUBMARINES.
SO WE SAILED ON TO THE SUN,
TILL WE FOUND THE SEA OF GREEN,
AND WE LIVED BENEATH THE WAVES,
IN OUR YELLOW SUBMARINE.
YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE.
WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE,
YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE.
MANY MORE OF THEM LIVE NEXT DOOR.
AND THE BAND BEGINS TO PLAY.
YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE.
WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE,
YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE.
FULL SPEED OVER HERE, SIR!
ACTION STATION! ACTION STATION!
AYE, AYE, SIR, FIRE!
HEAVEN! HEAVEN!
EV´RYONE OF US (ev'ryone of us)
HAS ALL WE NEED. (has all we need)
SKY OF BLUE (sky of blue)
AND SEA OF GREEN, (sea of green)
IN OUR YELLOW (in our yellow)
SUBMARINE. (submarine, ha! ha!)
A YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE.
WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE,
A YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE.
YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE.
WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE,
YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE.
Billy Joel
There's an old man sitting next to me
Makin' love to his tonic and gin.
He says, "Son can you play me a memory?
I'm not really sure how it goes,
But it's sad and it's sweetAnd I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes"
Sing us a song you're the piano man,
Sing us a song tonight.
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody.
And you've got us feelin' alright.
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke
Or to light up your smokeBut there's someplace that he'd rather be.
He says "Bill, I believe this is killing me,"
As a smile ran away from his face.
"Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place."
Sing us a song you're the piano man,
Sing us a song tonight.
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody.
And you've got us feelin' alright.
Who never had time for a wife.
And he,s talking with Davy
Who's still in the navyAnd probably will be for life.
And the waitress is practicing politics
As the buissnessman slowly gets stoned
Yes they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinking alone.
Sing us a song, you're the piano man,
Sing us a song tonight.
Well we're all in the mood for a melody.
And you've got us feelin' alright.
smile.
'Cause he knows that it's meThat they've been coming to see.
To forget about life for a while.
And the piano sounds like a carneval
Ande the microphone smells like a beer.
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say "Man what are you doin' here ?"
Sing us a song...
http://www.8notes.com/school/riffs/saxophone/dave_brubeck_take_five.asp
Elusive Butterfly
To the sound of something moving past your window in the wind
And if you're quick enough to rise
You'll catch a fleeting glimpse of someone's fading shadow
Out on the new horizon
You may see the floating motion of a distant pair of wings
And if the sleep has left your ears
You might hear footsteps running through an open meadow
It's only me pursuing somethin' I'm not sure of
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love
Echo softly in the distance through the canyons of your mind
I might have even called your name
As I ran searching after something to believe in
You might have seen me runnin'
Through the long-abandoned ruins of the dreams you left behind
If you remember something there
That glided past you followed close by heavy breathin'
It's only me pursuing somethin' I'm not sure of
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love
Sung by Bette Midler
by Mark Waldrop and Dick Gallagher
from the album Bathhouse Betty
keep us all abreast
of breaking stories that can tend
to make us anxious and depressed.
Problems with no answers
hang on like some chronic cough.
And every day some brand new issue
rears it's head to piss you off.
Optimism's wearing thin.
Things are spinning out of control.
Cynicism's all the fad.
World events could make us mad
as hatters.
Almost every day
some underpinning slips away.
These aren't laughing matters.
People keep on getting sick.
And a nickel's not worth a cent.
Wickedness and greed abound.
Just as peace is gaining ground
it shatters.
Hate is here to stay,
and justice goes to those who pay.
Friend, these aren't laughing matters.
than anything that Stephen King could write.
The stories in the paper are
the daily small decline and fall
spelled out in black and white.
how to take a brighter view
when your noodle's totally fried.
Human spirits need to be
leavened by a little levity.
So take those blues
and bounce them off the wall.
Keep your humor please,
'cause don't you know it times like these that
A Place In The Sun
Stevie Wonder
Like a long lonely stream
I keep runnin' towardas a dream
Movin' on, movin' on
Like a branch on a tree
I keep reachin' to be free
Movin' on, movin' on.
Where there's hope for ev'ryone
Where my poor restless heart's gotta run.
There's a place in the sun
And before my life is done
Got to find me a place in the sun.
I get weary from the load.
Movin' on, movin' on
Like this tired troubled earth
I've been rollin' since my birth
Movin' on, movin' on
Where there's hope for ev'ryone
Where my poor restless heart's gotta run.
There's a place in the sun
And before my life is done
Got to find me a place in the sun. most of all.
Wipe Out
Robert John
We-de-de-de, de-de-de-de-de de, we-um-um-a-way
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
A wimoweh, a-wimoweh a-wimoweh, a wimoweh
In the jungle the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight
In the jungle the quiet jungle the lion sleeps tonight
(repeat Wimoweh chorus—with vocal ad lib similar to the intro in the
foreground)
Near the village the peaceful village the lion sleeps tonight
Near the village the quiet village the lion sleeps tonight
(repeat wimoweh chorus)
Hush my darling, don't fear my darling. The lion sleeps tonight.
Hush my darling, don't fear my darling. The lion sleeps tonight
Vocal/Instrumental
by: Ralph Vaughan Williams, Wojciech Kilar, Giuseppe Verdi, Antonin
Dvorak, Johann
Sebastian Bach, Camille Saint-Saens, Erik Satie, Rene Eespere,
Patrick Cassidy,
Anonymous
Take Me Home Country Roads
Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, flowing like the breeze.
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads.
Miner's lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusky, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye.
Radio reminds me of my home far away
Driving down the road I get a feeling
That I should have been home yesterday (yesterday)
Cher
The beat goes on, the beat goes on. Drums keep pounding a rhythm to
the brain.
La de da de de, la de da de da. Charleston was once the rage, uh huh.
History has turned the page, uh huh. The miniskirt's the current
thing, uh huh.
Tennybopper si our newborn king, uh huh. And the beat goes on, the
beat goes on.
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain.La de da de de, la de da de
da.
The grocery store's the supermart, uh huh.
Little girls still break their hearts, uh huh.
And men still keep on marching off to war.
Electrically they keep a baseball score. And the beat goes on, the
beat goes on.
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain. La de da de de, la de da
de da.
Grandmas sit in chairs and reminisce Boys keep chasing girls to get a
kiss.
The cars keep going faster all the time.
Bums still cry 'Hey buddy, have you got a dime?'
And the beat goes on, the beat goes on.
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain. La de da de de, la de da
de da.
