Episode II: First Contact
Mulder's eyes focused unseeingly on the wall behind the opposing delegation
as he turned over recent events in his mind, lower lip pushing out
unconsciously into a world class pout. His quest had been ripped away from
him so comprehensively that it left him stunned. Changing the story now did
not erase the crimes against humanity committed in the past by the writers
and their despicable flunkies, but how could he expose the horror of those
conspiracies as things were? What about his sister? Even if she was still
out there somewhere as Scully promised, he was farther from knowing how to
find her than he had ever been. He couldn't be sure of anything. His parents
were alive again. Death itself had been reversed by the powers that be. Had
Sam been abducted in this reality? The writers had hid her again, and none
of the background information he remembered even applied now, nevermind the
evidence he had gathered during his years in the FBI. All those years of
work and sacrifice had come to nothing.
He still nursed some hurt feelings. How could Scully have kept this from
him? How could she support the changes? At the same time his conscience was
reminding him of the hardships the others had suffered in connection to him
and his quest. He had seen the bitterness they had towards him. Could he in
all fairness expect them to want to return to what had been? Maybe it was
better that he endure this pain himself rather than risk any further
suffering on their part—the needs of the many out weigh the needs of the
few, or the one . Hey, when in Rome...
Well, they couldn't have exacted much finer revenge than transforming him
into Wesley Crusher, that was for sure. He pulled himself away from that
depressing train of thought with a sigh.
Turning his attention to the activity of the meeting, Mulder noted with
distaste that the two parties were going through a bunch of political
bullshit that he would have held in contempt even if he was actually
knowledgeable about the issues involved. Not that any issues were really
being discussed at the table. It was the usual brand of making nicey-nicey
while trying to demonstrate that mine is bigger than yours. Some things
are the same wherever you go.
The ensign was studying the effect of the light bouncing off Skinner's bald
head and pouting again in disgust and temporary resignation when he became
aware of a gradual sense of unease building in his mind. The prickling on
the back of his neck alerted him to some danger close at hand.
Scanning the adversarial group before him, he quickly took in the pale
reptilian flesh encased in ominous uniforms constructed from some type of
thick, dark cloth and silvery metal plates of neo-gothic design. While
admittedly unsettling, familiarity produced over years of Star Trek viewing
lessened the impact of their appearance. A half circle of formidable looking
guards surrounded the seated Cardassian delegates. From them he gathered a
speedy impression of a professional show of threat masking a deeper boredom.
The delegates themselves had the bloated, constipated look common to most
old generals and figures of state. Calculation and general animosity lurked
just beneath the cover of their carefully composed faces as each sought
advantage over the others and the Federation. Nothing there to cause such a
sensation of personal jeopardy. Still the feeling persisted and his gaze
roved on, only to be brought to a screeching halt when it encountered two
green flaming eyes staring right at him with an intensity exclusive to
predators readying for the kill. Oh fuck.
The steady, burning stare was enough to make his breath come faster. The
sight of the massive, muscular body that accompanied it shot ice down his
spine. Though only an inch or two taller than Mulder, the Cardassian was
much broader across the chest and thicker of limb. The bulges rippling under
tight black and silver body armor and exposed alabaster skin betrayed a
frightening strength. Something about those gleaming eyes under the black
hair smoothed tight to the skull in standard Cardassian style reached up to
tug like an anxious child at Mulder's frozen brain.
His watcher was positioned at the shoulder of a saggy jowled delegate who
appeared to be one of the major players at the meeting. Presumably he was
acting as some kind of personal bodyguard...or quick access assassin.
The delegate chose that moment to motion his attendant forward with an
upraised hand. The big guard took a half step forward and knelt to listen,
sinuous grace evident in every movement. All the while he kept his head up
and his eyes trained on his quarry. A tremor ran through Mulder at the
display of deadly menace and sheer animal magnetism he had only seen equaled
by—no one, he told himself sternly.
The two figures presented quite a contrast. The sparkling white skin that
blended into occasional trails of glistening scales on the firm-fleshed
guard shone brighter next to the yellowing, desiccated-looking hide of the
flabby delegate. A sleek, newly shed snake coiled beside an old malevolent
lizard.
The older Cardassian produced a brown tubular object which he proceeded to
light and inhale from deeply. Mulder felt an unpleasant shock.
Cancerman! Well, Scully had told him everyone would be coming to the
party. A suspicion that Mulder didn't want to face directed him back to that
fiery green gaze, unwavering as its owner turned his head slightly to answer
the Smoker in a low, gravelly murmur. Disgust at the smoke prompted a small
wrinkle to appear above the up-tilt at the end of his nose, now apparent in
semi-profile. The dangerous creature then rose and slipped smoothly back
into position.
Krycek
A chill of unwelcome recognition spread through Mulder. One of his worst
enemies, the man who had personally delivered his most painful losses and
griefs since the abduction of Samantha, was tracking his every move in a
body that might as well have been an armored tank.
This is stupid, Fox told himself.I'm a fucking FBI agent! But he
wasn't. Not anymore. He was standing there before a Kryzilla monster with no
badge and no gun in the person of a puny pencil-neck geek—Wesley for
christsakes! That bastard must be reveling in it.
There was no help in sight. The other Federation officers in the room
clearly hated him, and his former partner turned foster mother was far away
at her post in sickbay, probably writing Ms. Dana Skinner 500 times on her
note pad using hearts to dot the "i"s. It looked as though his long-standing
battle with the hired gun would soon be ended by Krycek snapping him like a
twig over one of those powerful thighs and eating him whole. Maybe he'll
choke to death on me, Mulder hoped grimly.
The meeting went on and on. Pride demanded that Mulder try to hide his
insecurity and fear. Drawing himself up into an arrogant pose, he sent back
a challenging glare and saw Krycek's nostrils flare sharply like a bull's in
response. The old Smoker observed the heated silent exchange with a detached
amusement.
As the formal discussions wound to a close, Captain Skinner thanked the
Cardassian representatives in brusk tones for their participation and wished
them a comfortable stay on board.
"I am pleased at your concern for our comfort, Captain," interjected the
Smoker. "With that in mind, I have a need. My men and I are unfamiliar with
the layout and operation of your vessel. I will require a page from among
your crew for the running of my on board messages and errands. That boy
there will do," he announced, pointing a clawed finger squarely at Mulder, a
small smirk playing on his lips. "Have him sent directly to my private rooms
after the welcoming activities have concluded."
The smirk widened a little at the sight of the youthful ensign's outrage and
the sensation of a murderous glare boring through the back of his head.
"When he's not occupied preserving my comfort, perhaps I'll allow my men the
use of him."
The deep belly growl behind him sounded sweetly in his withered ears.
"That seems to me a very reasonable suggestion," Federation Ambassador Kersh
commented with no small satisfaction.
"I will give your request due consideration, Ambassador Spender, but the
assigning of duties to the crew men under my command is my responsibility
alone. If an aid proves necessary, a suitable choice will be selected from
the available officers," Skinner replied with a glower.
Commander Colton stood to invite all present to the reception with
refreshments now commencing in Ten Forward, the ship's recreation lounge,
suppressing a smirk of his own at Mulder's recent predicament.
Relieved to have escaped the Smoker's clutches and at the interruption to
the stand off with Krycek, Mulder fled swiftly in the bustle and commotion
of people relocating to the other room. He headed straight for the
sanctuary of his quarters, hoping that his exit had gone unnoticed.
Slapping the panel to activate the door, he flew inside as though a few tons
of scaly assassin were on his heels. He wheeled around, throwing himself
against the inner control panel. The door shut safely behind him. The ensign
studied the unmarked colored buttons on the controls anxiously, searching in
vain for any indication of how to activate the locking mechanism. In
desperation he began jabbing random ones. It was impossible to tell if it
was working or not from the uniform beeps emerging.
Fuck this shit! What I need is someone conversant in STNG technology—the
Gunmen! If they could supply him with a phaser and instructions on its
operation he would have a fighting chance.
Mulder decided to try the door. If it opened he would attempt to reach the
Gunmen; if it was indeed locked then he would stick it out in the apartment
for now. A quick check of the rooms for some weapon to take with him turned
up nothing—everything portable was much too light to be of any use. God
damned futuristic alloys. He couldn't afford to spend any more time on it.
He had to be out of there before the reception ended. Squaring his
shoulders, the boy headed for the door.
Krycek had saw the slim form slipping away and set off in pursuit, tossing
some feeble excuse at the Smoker that earned an annoyingly knowing smile
from the old man. First tracking the ensign's dash for his quarters, Alex
raced back to his own to snatch the object he had left prepared before
returning to confront Fox Mulder. His breath was coming in ragged pants and
the blood pounded like a base drum in his ears.
Vivid images of his quarry flashed through his mind as he ran: sleepy
Mulders, wistful Mulders, endearingly muddied Mulders, smug Mulders, up for
the past 48 hours wired on coffee stubbled Mulders, suspicious Mulders, sad
puppy-eyed Mulders, righteously indignant Mulders, merry monster hunting
Mulders, edgy paranoid Mulders, snide Mulders, angry hissing and spitting
Mulders, and, of course, the rare and coveted happy laughing Mulder. Mulders
frolicked the fields in gray boxers and red Speedos. They were joined in
their cavorting by sneaky bastard Mulders in tight black denim and leather.
Mulders of pleasure, Mulders of pain.
He halted at his destination, vibrating with barely contained energy as he
stood outside the door. Alex hesitated nervously for a moment, trying to
prepare himself for what lay on the other side: the moment of truth, the
struggle of his life, the object of his lust, the song of his soul...
Fox
It was an angry, cornered Mulder that suddenly appeared like an angel of
wrath before his hopeful, horny suitor. Alex's breath caught in his throat.
He drew a blank. His hand thrust itself out, desperately clutching his
offering.
The now angry, puzzled Mulder shot a confused glance from Krycek to the
bottle of chocolate sauce with the large green bow and back to Krycek again.
It was the quick flit of expressive hazel eyes to the inside control panel
that brought Alex out of his temporary paralysis and galvanized him into
action. He stepped inside, reaching an arm back blindly to close the portal
behind him, then stood there blocking the only exit.
"Baskin Robbins is next door, Krycek."
Alex's desire burned hotter at the proud, defiant stance and familiar dry
tone, strange though it was coming from the youthful face.
"Everything is all right now," was what popped out of his mouth.
"That's a matter of perspective, I guess."
"It's all changed. We made them change. We're free."
"We—you mean the Consortium? So they're at the root of this. Conspiring
with the writers. It was because I was getting too close to the truth,
wasn't it?" Mulder's resentful fear had by now given way to a more
comfortable ire.
"Fuck the Consortium. Fuck the writers. It's just us now," Alex announced.
He fell into a perusal of the lithe body and flushed cheeks. "God, you look
so young here, baby," he added in a strangled rasp.
"What was your part in this? You did it, didn't you? You had me turned into
him !" It was Krycek. Of course it was Krycek. It was always him, coming
out of the woodwork to spread insidious infection to everything good and
pure like Fu Manchu in one of those ridiculous old films. Krycek who, unlike
Scully and Skinner, you could feel justified in pummeling until you reached
catharsis for your frustration, anger and lust. Lust? Where did that come
from? Anger, I meant anger and more anger.
Mulder's hands curled into fists. He began storming towards the huge
Cardassian assassin, fury sweeping aside self-preservation instincts and any
trace of commonsense. Alex lowered his arms to his sides, making no more
move to fight than he ever did when Fox came after him with blood in his
eyes. He didn't intend to risk even defensive moves for fear of somehow
hurting his Fox. The extra strength and capabilities of his Cardassian body
were still new to him, so miscalculation was a possibility.
"We can't fight, baby—this is the STNG story universe. Crew members can't
just start punching other characters unless no other options are around."
The ensign paused.
"Well, you don't want to give any other option, right?" Mulder asked
hopefully.
"Actually that's exactly why I'm here," Krycek replied, moving a little
closer to the other man as he set down the chocolate sauce.
"I didn't follow rules in our old X-Files universe, what makes you think
I'll start doing it now?" The young ensign blazed with challenge, his eyes
flashing and fists tightening. "And since when did you follow them either
for that matter?"
"Since the consequences became tremendous. Don't do it, Fox. Violating the
rules of a story's universe is some serious fucking shit. Let's be clear on
this. What you used to do is break the rules of the FBI and other
organizations which existed within the story parameters of the X-Files, not
oppose the fundamental laws of that universe itself, such as 'when the going
gets tough Fox Mulder does not call for backup.' The violation of those kind
of laws would bring on the unraveling of the fabric of that universe as it
turns in on itself, swallows itself, until nothing is left but chaos on
every level of being. The complete negation of past, present and future
coming in a spectacular end of existence," dire seriousness was replaced by
transparent desire as Krycek advanced further towards him, licking his lips
with a crocodilian tongue. "Speaking of coming in a spectacular end...that
brings me to my proposal for an alternative course of action."
Mulder fell back step by step from the heat in those bright green eyes,
experiencing a peculiar fluttering in his stomach.
"I guess the good old days are over, huh?"
"They've just begun."
This was too much. Was there nothing he could rely on? Krycek putting the
moves on him was the final upset in a profoundly unsettling day. A cloud of
bleak depression descended on Mulder. He wanted nothing more at the moment
than a chance to sulk in seclusion, to wrap himself up in the loneliness he
was so accustomed to.
His retreat was stopped short when his back hit the wall. He breathed a
weary sigh. "I can't deal with this right now. If you don't want to fight
you're going to have to leave," he declared with an imperious gesture to the
door.
"It doesn't have to be that way between us anymore."
"Was I the only one who was happy with how things were?" Mulder asked
plaintively.
"Were you really happy like that, Fox? Fighting an endless battle with no
one who actually believed in you. Sitting by yourself in a dark, cramped
apartment. Everything always just out of reach. Maybe you were just too
caught up in it to imagine things any different."
"I knew who I was. I had my mission."
"You knew the life they gave you same as the rest of us. Everyone under the
thumbs of the writers. Sure, nobody was handing you sheets of instructions
and schedules. You had more obvious freedom than pretty much anyone else,
but what does colonization even matter if everyone around you is already
acting under outside control?" Alex slowly maintained his approach towards
the ensign. "And how free were you really? They knew the easiest way to
manage you would be to stand back and pull the strings on the emotions and
old traumas they had given you, relying on that to take you in the direction
they wanted. They knew that they had you too focused on following their
trail of extreme possibilities to step away and glimpse the full range of
what could be." He reached out and gently took Mulder's hand in his.
"I was doing what's right. Unlike you. What's your excuse, Krycek? Just
following orders?" The ensign sneered.
"They threatened everything that's important to me." His hand tightened
around the boy's. Mulder struggled to keep himself from drowning in vivid
green pools brimming with painful sincerity. "But that's all finished."
"So you'll do good provided there's no personal cost? What a hero!" Mulder
pulled his hand away roughly.
"I've paid plenty of costs, only there are some sacrifices I'm not prepared
to make."
"When you're aware of the kind of injustices that were occurring in our old
world you have to fight them. You have to put everything you have into that.
I don't see how anything else can be justified."
"I know you don't. That's part of your amazing Mulderness. But sometimes
it's more complex—"
"You follow your conscience. While it may not be easy, I don't see anything
complex about it."
"That's how it's been for you, but what would you have done if you had been
told with absolute certainty before the fact that something terrible would
happen Scully if you went ahead with what you wanted? Sometimes plans
haven't turned out right and you've felt guilty afterwards. Could you have
run in there with your white hat on if you had already known from the start
it would mean her being hurt really bad? Especially when what you want to do
most of all is tell her how much she matters to you, matters more than
anything in the entire fucked-up world. And the writers keep saying they'll
give her a severe disabling injury that would land her in a wheelchair on
permanent desk duty and bring in a bunch of kids to do the field work like
on 21 Jump Street when you know that going out investigating and finding
paranormal stuff is everything to her and how much she likes running—"
"Krycek! Hold on a minute," Mulder interrupted the ordinarily taciturn man's
bewildering torrent of words in concerned confusion. Krycek's eyes had
become dark with distress. For a few moments it looked like the big assassin
might actually start to cry. As crazy as it might be, Mulder believed he was
telling the truth. "Maybe we should sit down. Do you want a glass of water?"
A head shake and some heavy swallows. Boy, how did I miss this? Scully's
really important to Alex. You'd think he'd know her a little better,
though.
The ensign guided the other man over to the hated tan couch and sat down
next to him.
"Jesus. 21 Jump Street? OK, I can see how that would be tough. Protecting
Scully is something I understand. I love her too."
"You what?" Krycek's head whipped up to fix him with a sharp gaze.
"Love Scully. She's my best friend and an incredible woman, so I have an
idea of where you're coming from. I'd do almost anything for her myself.
Look, you obviously have some strong feelings, but I have to tell you that I
don't think you and Scully would work out as a couple."
Mulder was a man who listened to his instincts, and when he pictured Krycek
with Scully his immediate response was negative. In fact, the image of the
two of them in bed together made him feel like punching someone for some
reason. Since that would be one hell of a bad idea, he pushed the image out
of his mind as quickly as possible.
If were to be totally objective he supposed he'd have to admit that the
ex-spy was attractive in a way. That's only if you went for the bad boy sort
with hard bodies, whisky voices and wild rebel eyes, though. He was pretty
sure that wasn't Scully's type.
"Fox, you don't understand—"
"Yeah, I do. It makes sense now. You've probably heard that she's become
attached to Skinner. Clearly you came here with some sort of scheme to win
her over by making her jealous."
"I'm not—"
"It's all right, I'm not mad about it." He did his best to sling a
sympathetic arm around the Cardassian's broad shoulders. "I can't believe
I'm saying this, but why don't you come with me to see the Gunmen tonight?
Misery loves company. We'll get hammered and turn ourselves into a couple of
pathetic drunks."
"You're miserable?" The boy's cheek was cupped in a large, peculiarly ridged
palm. Mulder wasn't an expert on male bonding, but the gesture didn't seem
an appropriate one to use on your drinking buddy. Probably a Russian thing.
"Well, I wouldn't mind forgetting for a while that I'm We—, er, having
some troubles of my own." There was no point in advertising his condition if
Krycek wasn't aware of it yet. "Maybe we'll discuss that when I've had a few
drinks. To get back to your problem, I think maybe you should just try
hanging out with her a bit. She makes a great friend, and she's taking this
real 'let bygones be bygones' view of the past. Just don't build your hopes
up about the rest of it. You might be surprised when you do spend more time
with her because those interests you mentioned aren't really Scully's bag at
all, usually I have to drag her out to do those kind of things."
"Yeah, I know. She wasn't the one I was protecting."
"But then who..." Krycek moved his thumb in a soft caress over the ensign's
pillowy bottom lip. Those wild rebel eyes were wide and yearning.
Comprehension dawned. "Oh...it was...was it...because of me? Scully's
abduction, my father's death, your arm, Skinner's illness, the others...all
because of me?" The room started to spin and Mulder felt like he might throw
up.
"No. For you. Because of the writers." Alex reached up to stroke his
silken hair. "It's not your fault."
Mulder pulled away abruptly, stumbling away from the couch. "How could you
do that? All of that suffering because of one person. You must have known I
wouldn't have wanted that!"
Getting to his feet, the Cardassian growled, "How come it was OK when it was
about Scully then?"
"I just said it was understandable ."
"But not when it's you?"
"Stop trying to change the subject!"
"It changed naturally. You need to look out more for your safety."
"Hey, I have enough parents already—no thanks to you! You had no right to
take that on yourself without even consulting my wishes."
"It was my decision to make. They're all fine now anyway. It's time to move
on."
"Move on?! I don't think that's what all those people would say!"
"It's exactly what they're saying, Fox. That's what they're doing here— 'bygones' remember?
"Yeah, I've heard the speeches," he waved his hand in reluctant
acknowledgement. "Let me ask you something. You've all been talking as if
you've conquered the dragon and saved the village. This was no victory,
though. The writers handed this to you. I think they had more on their minds
than an early Christmas present. You really think it can be so perfect?"
"It's more than we ever expected," Alex replied, walking up to gaze deeply
into bottomless hazel eyes. "Life for the dead. Liberty. Yeah, they can
throw anything they want at us, but that's not much different from what
people not existing in fictional universes encounter in everyday life. Only
our forces of fate are a bit more diabolical. We'll just have to try to keep
an eye out so they don't play us. And you're right, I'm sure they do have
ulterior motives they didn't go into with us, but I got the feeling it may
just be them wanting shorter work days so they'll have more spare time to
eat cornflakes and jack off. We can do it together—I don't mean the
cornflakes thing, well, we could do that too, but that's not the crucial
point right now—"
"If we're supposed to be together in this shouldn't you have dropped me a
hint about the whole 'we're going to be magically sent into an alternate
universe' thing? That way I could have had some actual involvement."
"The shit would have hit the fan if anyone found out I let you in on it. And
our conversations have never exactly been quiet and low-key. This was our
big chance, and didn't want to blow it by jumping the gun. Scully and I
watched over your interests like we always do, though."
"She meant you...," he murmured. Something Alex couldn't quite identify
flickered through Fox's eyes before being shuttered away. Gesturing to
himself, Mulder asked, "Did you do this to me?"
"They promised you would have the same body you had before. 'Before'...huh— tricky, double-talking motherfuckers. Anyway, the age thing was a big
surprise." He touched his fingers to Mulder's cheek. The smooth skin had a
new youthful freshness that was fascinating, although he mourned the
disappearance of the little character lines from the handsome face.
"That's not what I'm getting at," Mulder replied, twitching his head away
angrily. "Who turned me into Wesley?"
"That was inevitable, baby. Like they said, you serve the same function to
the story."
"His function is being irritating!"
"Oh come on, Fox, you love irritating people! Ditching partners, defying
orders, throwing your theories in people's faces—you thought that was the
path to popularity? But more than that, you're both these really smart,
unappreciated guys who get ignored when they're right."
"I'm so glad to hear that some traditions will continue after all." His eyes
trailed coldly over Alex. "I notice you managed to snag a cool part for
yourself."
"This was kind of a surprise too." Alex looked down at himself then back up
with a touch of nervousness showing. "You like it? Talking with a writer is
like dealing with the devil. They said 'semi-altered body, not connected to
any particular pre- established TNG character.' That left me kind of in the
dark, but they were willing to guarantee tall, sexy, two arms, good- sized
package, tough—I never thought to ask species. Besides, I was more
concerned about your body at the time," he finished with a cocky grin.
Alex was startled to see Fox turn away from him shamefacedly. A broken
question emerged, "How can you even want me? I'm Wesley ."
He moved quickly to take Fox by the shoulders. "No you're not. You are Fox
Mulder—the coolest, sexiest loudmouth nerd in the whole universe. Your
function isn't you . It doesn't tell your style or even personality." He
lifted Fox's chin up, allowing Alex to see his uncertain face and lowered
eyes. He fumbled for something that would erase the unhappiness and doubt he
saw there, scouring what TNG data he had picked up from hastily watching a
bunch of episodes as research when he learned what was going down. "Look at
X. He got the Worf part because they're both a couple of harsh bad-asses, on
the 'good side' more or less, that take care of hardcore shit. He's not
Worf, though. For one thing, even if maybe he does have a few principles, he
sure doesn't have the whole warrior code of honor thing going on. How about
Skinner? He orders people around and has a thing for the doctor. Does that
make him Picard?"
Mulder mentally compared the witty, urbane poet-adventurer with his blunt,
cranky former AD. He lit up immediately. "In his dreams maybe. No way is he
Picard! Oh Alex!" Swept up in a tide of heartfelt relief and gratitude, he
flung himself at Alex. The unexpected flying squirrel impression left the
Cardassian scrambling to catch him. Initial shock was overcome by elation
when Fox clung to him, peppering his face with exuberant kisses. Alex
managed to bring their mouths into contact, reaching up to hold his head in
place. He felt a momentary tensing before the ensign melted against him. He
was thrilled at Fox's responsiveness. Soft full lips parted easily for his
questing tongue. It was sucked and stroked within the sweet, warm cavern of
the boy's mouth. Long, fine boned hands danced over his armored chest and
slid up to his neck, caressing the bare skin there and pulling him even
nearer.
Sensations were running riot through Mulder's body. Heat and need seemed to
fill every inch of him. It was completely beyond his experience. His tongue
pushed out hungrily to learn the taste of Alex. It was the desert he found
in his mouth and skin. The flavor was one of salty sunbaked rock and hardy
flowers with sultry scents. A strong hand slipped under his shirt sent
sparks of electricity along his nerves as it explored his rib cage, pausing
occasionally to circle, rub and pluck at his hardened nipples. Everything
was so strange and right.
Alex maneuvered them onto the nearby couch where he quickly divested Mulder
of his clothes, large clawed hands tearing them a bit in his excitement.
Mulder, finding no success with the sturdy body armor, continued to tug and
yank at it, uttering little mewling noises of complaint.
The form fitting armor was becoming painfully constricting for Alex. He
pulled back with a smile, drinking in the sight of the Fox feast laid before
him. The ensign's beautiful mouth, indecently swollen from their kisses, was
open and panting. His mussed hair fell in a shining disarray above soulful,
beckoning eyes. That aura of innocent sexuality he had about him was
accentuated by the youthful ripeness of his leanly muscled body. He was so
fucking hot. Alex's appreciative stare traveled the boy's graceful lines and
curves until coming to rest on an ass that would convince the Pope to bless
sodomy. Mine. Screw them all, he gloated joyfully.
The Cardassian tried to still the tremor in his hands as he went to remove
the suit himself. His good humor drained away as he encountered the complex
system of bindings that held it together. shitgoddamnfuckinghell! In
furious desperation he resorted to attacking the material between the
plates, ripping and clawing at it. It was tough and withstood the
punishment.
At the end of his rope, he looked to Fox for assistance. The vision that
assailed him of the former agent spread out on his back, watching him
intently with dark lust-dilated eyes while gently stroking an impressive
erection, had him swiftly redoubling his previous efforts.
"It isn't working. Alex, cut it out!" He became aware of tenacious slender
fingers wrapped around his wrists that were attempting to still the
ferocious action of his raking claws. With an effort he surrendered to their
insistent demand.
Huge beseeching eyes settled pleadingly on Fox. Mulder was amazed by the
faith he saw in that gaze. Nobody ever believed a screwball like him could
take care of anything. Nobody ever needed him.
He quickly inspected the hands in his own for damage. Satisfied, he brought
them up to his mouth on impulse, the unfamiliar and yet undefined emotions
within him requiring some physical expression. Snowy fingers were licked and
nipped softly, deft movements adroitly avoiding the claws that gradually
retracted into the tips as they relaxed. His tongue investigated the odd and
delightful textures of smooth scales and rough protrusions like long,
pronounced calluses patterned out on the finely crafted appendages.
"Fox," Alex groaned, his eyes narrowed to blissful slits even as his
erection fought to punch a hole through his armor.
Pulling out of his sensual revelry, Mulder flashed him a teasing smile.
"Looking cool isn't everything, hmm? This is what you get for sticking me
with the dorky space-polyester number," he joked lightly. "Don't worry,
we'll take care of it."
He touched Alex's face, running his fingers back and forth along the
prominent ridges surrounding his Cardassian eye sockets in a soothing
caress. The ensign had recalled that a fairly similar structure on Ferengi
had been shown as being quite sensitive.
Pleasure tingled through Alex as Mulder stroked the unexpected erogenous
zone. He pulled the wonderful boy close, rejoicing in the warm nearness of
his love.
Their mouths met again in feverish kisses, hands roaming freely. There was
an unavoidable resurgence of frustration. Alex wanted the barriers gone. He
wanted them welded together body and soul. Engulfed in each other. The big
Cardassian began rutting against Mulder, firmly clasping his ass to press
him closer. He was just cognizant enough to make sure that his claws stayed
inside. The steel encased cock was now throbbing in near agony.
"Oohhh, I need to fuck you," Alex moaned. "Need to so bad."
The engorged flesh of Fox's tender sex was ground against the solid metal
piece of Alex's crotch guard. He squirmed helplessly in the strong embrace.
"Ow! Let go, that hurts!"
Alex snapped out of his passionate haze at those words. Panicked, he
released his grip immediately and jumped back a little, which landed Fox in
an undignified heap on the floor.
"Are you OK? What happened? I'm so sorry!" Alex exclaimed in horrified
dismay.
He flew over to Fox's side. Brimming with guilt laced concern and
consternation, he frantically tried to help him up, check him over, and
comfort him all at the same time. The net result of this was making Mulder
feel as though he were being mugged by Florence Nightingale on steroids.
Despite the 'assistance', Mulder succeeded in rising. He hastily extricated
himself from the Cardassian's bizarre coddling attempt before further injury
could occur and stood massaging his abused parts ruefully. The boy was
relieved to find them unscathed if a little sore. In fact, his cock was
already beginning to perk up again and beg for a return to the more pleasant
sensations of a few moments ago.
"It's all right, I'll live, but we have got to get that thing off of you."
He sat down on the couch, chewing on his lip as he contemplated the problem
of the suit at full-blown Mulder intensity.
Alex hovered around him, not quite daring to touch. The writers were finally
out off their lives and he was still giving Fox pain. He searched fretfully
for something that might ease the discomfort of this particular injury to
his Fox.
Fetching a pillow from a close by chair, he dithered looking down at
Mulder's rosy, well-formed penis, shifting restlessly all the while in an
effort to find a more comfortable position for his own aching loins.
Elevation efforts appeared to be somewhat superfluous even in the wake of
the unfortunate incident; nonetheless, it was the best that Alex could come
up with. His indecision went unnoticed by Mulder who was well and truly lost
in thought the way he always got when he was turning over a puzzle in his
mind.
Alex considered swinging Fox's legs back to allow him to slip the pillow
under his haunches in order to cushion the poor sore parts properly. He
ruthlessly squashed a subsequent fantasy about taking advantage of the other
opportunities lifting the long legs would offer. Give the guy a break, you
selfish bastard. You almost crushed his nuts with your giant freak body, and
now you're about to jump him again. Dwelling on the tender delicacy of the
young human before him, Alex despised himself. He carefully tucked the
pillow behind the precious, fragile skull, earning a preoccupied mumble of
thanks. He risked a feather-light brush of his knuckles over soft, thick
chestnut hair, clawed fingers curled tightly to his palm as a precaution.
What was he going to do? Every warm "human" feeling he had was tied directly
to the man sitting in front of him, and still he couldn't escape what he was
- a killer, created for violence and efficient brutality. With the boil of
emotions and hormones inside of him right now how could he trust himself?
His dangerous instincts and monstrous new strength could kill Fox in an
instant if he misapplied them after once again loosing his burning ardor. He
would not let that happen—even if it meant getting someone to hack off
every one of his limbs.
"Stand back." Alex felt a sharp stab of rejection pierce his gut before Fox
caught his arm and began yanking eagerly. "C'mon, let's go! I have an idea,"
he announced in triumphant excitement. He allowed the ensign to position him
in the open area in the center of the room. "Stay there. You can't budge
when we try this. You trust me, right?"
Alex wondered what the manic boy would be getting him into. The suspicious
mischief sparkling in the hazel eyes and persistent grin tugging at the
corners of the lush mouth called up a great gush of adoration and hot desire
within the Cardassian. He nodded silently, powerless in the face of his
beloved's charms.
"Great!" Mulder sprung to proceed with his plan. "Computer, please place a
priority order with the transporter chief to transport Representative Krycek
to a position three feet to his left while leaving his apparel in current
position."
A flat, sexless voice was emitted from some hidden speaker overhead. "Does
the representative agree to this transport operation and the manner of
relocation?"
There was a moment of expectant silence.
"Alex, that means you."
"Uh, yes."
"Message has been relayed."
"I bet we livened up a boring shift in the Transporter Section," Fox
laughed. "Now remember not to move until it happens. We don't want them to
rematerialize you in the middle of the coffee table or something." Mulder
set off into the dining room hurriedly. "I have something to take care of
while we're waiting. Be right back!" He returned a few moments later bearing
a large black cup which he carried into the bed chamber.
Mulder was on his way back out when a glittering spot of light appeared on
Alex's midriff. His head and hands could be seen to fade away in an instant.
His armor and heavy boots remained aloft for half a second, resembling a
ghostly visitation, before dropping with a crash. Nearby a second such spot
appeared that resolved itself into a very naked pearly assassin.
Mulder was captured by the beauty of Alex, all the more wondrous to him in
this extra-terrestrial manifestation. He looked like a statue of some exotic
god, created from the finest marble for the worship of lesser beings.
Walking up the motionless man, Fox laid the flat of his hand between his
broad pectorals then trailed it down over his abdominals, marveling at the
sculpted mounds of muscle. His skin seemed thicker than a human's and subtly
different in texture, similar to oiled fine grade leather. It appeared to be
entirely free of hair everywhere but the top of his head. He loved the feel
of it beneath his fingers. The frosted peaks of his nipples were buttery
smooth to the touch. The folds of his belly button formed an exquisite
opalescent shell. The ensign's eyes widened as his attention shifted further
down.
"Whadda ya know, maybe the writers' guarantee is worth something after all,"
Fox murmured, whistling at the very sizable hard-on now on display.
He took gentle hold of the pale tumescent member. I wonder if it stays
white because the epidermal thickness obscures the blood rich state of the
tissues or if Cardassians have a circulation system unlike ours, being
descended directly from coldblooded reptiles. The dick in question leapt
like an ecstatic puppy in his grip.
Mulder felt his face heat as he filled with curiosity and excitement.
Outside of his diverse collection of porn and lively imagination, he had
never had occasion to examine another man's hard cock. The writers hadn't
intended him to get out much when they gifted him at conception with a
mental party pack of paranoia, barely scabbed over emotional wounds and
single minded obsession over proving widely ridiculed theories.
Comparison shopping wasn't necessary, however, for him to know that the cock
in his hands was something special. Skin like creamy white suede covered
it. Long and thick in the shaft, its rearing head had a stout, conical shape
that narrowed to a blunt tip. Powerful, sleek and elegant, it suited Alex
well. Light experimental strokes and squeezes caused it to strain further,
steady streams of golden fluid leaking from the slit. Wow, alien love
juice. Inquisitive Mulder brought a sticky finger to his mouth for a taste
test. After a trial lick, he drew the finger in deep and reflected on the
flavor. It was heavy and sweet with a strong undernote of something vaguely
like ginger. Not like his own at all. He absently maintained a loose grasp
on the big cock as he mused over the pre-cum on his tongue until interrupted
abruptly by a tortured sob.
He was startled to note that Krycek looked ready to explode about something.
The thinnest nimbus of green iris ringed vast smoldering black pits. His
chest was heaving. The muscles Mulder had been admiring earlier were all
seized up. His jaw, fists and even his feet were clenched. How on earth had
his tentative explorations upset Alex so badly? Why to God hadn't he said or
done something to let him know?
Mulder stumbled back a step. "Um, Alex...are we having another problem I
should be aware of?"
Though he saw Fox's lips moving, Alex couldn't make out the words over the
raging storm in his head. They would have been meaningless to him anyway.
All of his mental focus was presently being expended on remaining perfectly
still but for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His restraint had been
tried almost past endurance by the soft angel touches and the unbearably
erotic performance Fox had unconsciously put on sucking away at that pre-cum
coated digit.
Alex stood at the very edge of the precipice. Clamping down on the force of
his desire for Fox's sake had only served to make it more insistent. His
body was staging a full out mutiny at the prospect of being denied any of
it's due when poised right on the brink of achieving satisfaction at last.
Years of being reigned in, combined with this current provocation and the
seemingly amplified appetites of his new body, would allow no quarter to be
given. If he moved the tenuous thread of will holding him in check would be
broken. He was afraid of what he would do. If he so much as twitched he
would be on top of Fox. He would hold that lovely, vulnerable creature down,
spitting him like a pig on his unyielding shaft and pounding into the virgin
asshole until jism came trickling out of the boy's mouth, nostrils and ears.
He was too far gone, drowning in the vicious reds that meant destruction.
His heart constricted at the concerned expression on Mulder's face. He
flashed suddenly on a picture of his Fox lying bloodied, torn and sobbing at
the hands and dick of the man he had opened his arms to. With an
inarticulate cry he collapsed to his knees, enveloping Mulder's waist in a
bruising squeeze. He gulped Mulder's fat, pretty cock into his mouth, deep
throating it right to the root and applying suction like a vacuum. Fox
screamed and his whole body went rigid with shock and sensation. Krycek's
hold supported the smaller man as he arched backwards. Alex maintained his
voracious assault, tonguing and sucking madly, all of his demanding hunger
being confined to one rapacious orifice. He freed one hand to work his own
impatient cock to climax.
There wasn't a chance of Mulder, so unused to sharing sex with a partner,
holding out for long at the frantic pace Alex had set. He let loose a howl
as he shot a river of cum down Alex's ravenous throat. Mulder felt his limbs
sag and knees buckle with release. He was kept upright by Alex, who had both
arms around his middle again in the attitude of a lost soul begging
redemption. Slumping forward and dropping his hands to the man beneath him,
Mulder rested the weight of his torso on the broad shoulders. From this
angle he could see that a string of overlapping scales along Alex's spine
were standing at half- mast, descending from the now bristling comb of
scales at his nape. Damn, some guys really do get all the neat stuff, he
thought to himself, unable to dredge up any actual resentment in the wake of
the most incredible orgasm of his life.
Mulder gasped out, "Foreplay was becoming a bore, huh?"
"Was trying to stop. Don't want to hurt you again," answered a rough, choked
whisper from somewhere in the vicinity of his navel.
"Oh, you mean after...you were trying not to get carried away? Is that what
was going on?" The Cardassian's head dipped in a nod, a shudder running
through his huge body. "I'm all right. You stopped when I asked you to,
that's the important thing," he reassured him, stroking the sleek head
pressed tightly to his belly. "We were doing fine. Anyway, I think an
acknowledgement is going to have to be made that delayed gratification is
not your shtick. Another episode like that one and we'll probably both
rupture something. Although it would definitely be the most enjoyable injury
I've ever received."
Alex drew a long shaky breath and risked a look up, reassured by the warm
acceptance he saw there. He nuzzled his face against Mulder's flat stomach
before rising, bending him over one shoulder as he came up. Then he made for
the bedchamber with the ensign draped across him.
"This better not be a tease. I demand hard cock!" Mulder proclaimed
gleefully.
The smaller man was deposited on the bed with a bounce. Alex followed him
down, engaging tongue and hands immediately, the dick of his unfamiliar body
fast swelling to its former proportions. Fox returned his caresses with
enthusiasm.
"So I take it you really want me then?" Mulder asked laughingly.
"For so long," he groaned between lapping at a pink nipple. "I hated the
writers. Fuck, still hate them, but at least now it's like it should be."
"I made preparations." Steeling his resolve, Mulder guided the Cardassian's
head away and separated himself from Alex long enough to get the cup on one
bedside table.
"What?"
"Olive oil from the food dispenser. I had to improvise. One of the great
unsolved mysteries of STNG was the identity of the officer in charge of KY
distribution." With a smiling tug on one of Alex's clawed finger ends the
ensign added, "No offense, but I think I'll lube myself until you're totally
used to these things."
Alex was profoundly grateful at that moment that he had already taken some
of the edge off his lust. His heart was trapped in his throat and seemed to
be suffocating him.
Mulder dipped his fingers in the oil then worked them into himself with a
limber twist, humming happily and giving little breathy murmurs of arousal.
Alex observed the relaxed, practiced movements with considerable surprise. A
dark suspicion disturbed the fantastic allure of the scene.
"You done this before?" The question came out steeped in jealously even
though rationally Alex didn't see how it could be possible. He may have been
watching the developments of Mulder's love life from afar, but he had been
watching very carefully.
"Lubed up? Yeah. Hey, I may have been flying solo but I performed the full
range of maneuvers." He flipped onto his back, pulling his legs up to his
chest and sending an amused come hither leer at the relieved Cardassian.
"What are we waiting for? I'm in a space ship with an alien life form. Let
the anal probing commence!"
Holy fuck.
Slicking up his dick, Alex laid a reverent kiss on the glistening pink bud
of Fox's anus then pounced on him with a throaty growl. They traded an
aggressive kiss. Alex dragged his slightly coarse tongue over the shapely
collarbone and blazed a trail of licks and sucks from the perfect hollow of
his throat to the hint of a cleft on his strong, stubborn chin. In
breathless anticipation, he positioned the toned runner's legs on his
shoulders and steadily pushed his way into paradise. He settled in and began
to move. It was hot and tight and, oh Christ, ecstasy.
Mulder writhed and bucked beneath the big Cardassian. It was everything he
had imagined sacked out on the couch in his tiny dank apartment. More than
that. The large cock inside of him was driving in and out in a relentless
rhythm. He arched back his neck, crying out as it found his prostate and
continued targeting it repeatedly. Alex's face was floating above him,
strained with passion. The sharp clean lines, high cheekbones, broad brow,
incredible burning eyes—it was all still there in this Cardassian
incarnation. How could he not have recognized him immediately? Fox reached
down to stroke his reawakened cock and felt Alex's hand wrap around his, the
two moving as one. Their mouths came together, tongues wrestling and
twining. His climax built until it exploded into its own galaxy of stars.
Still the powerful thrusting went on and on. The intensity of the pleasure
was near to painful.
After an exquisite eternity, Alex's body spasmed and he came with a roar,
sending streams of hot ejaculate into the molten depths of Fox's body. He
lowered Fox's legs to his waist, massaging the muscles to help ease cramp.
The larger man then gathered the boy up in a fierce hug, nuzzling the sweat
damp locks on his lulling head. Setting the precious burden down carefully,
Alex reluctantly disengaged himself and moved to his lover's side.
"Tissues. I knew we were missing something," commented a groggy monotone.
"Do you think they use toilet paper in this century?"
"If they don't I'm sure as hell not shaking any hands," Alex replied a
little thickly. "But forget about it, that's mine." He slid down to lick Fox
clean, savoring the taste he had waited so long to receive. Once finished,
he arranged them both snuggly under the covers, pulling Fox half on top of
him and wrapping him up in possessive arms.
"Tha's good. Did you see stars? Billions and billions of them," Fox rambled
in an exhausted slur. "Carl Sagan never used that phrase in his work, you
know. Only a brief acknowledgement of it in his final book. Too imprecise.
Does it mean 10 billion? A hundred billion? Who can tell? It's a common
misattribution, like the supposed P.T. Barnum quote 'there's a sucker born
every minute.' With the relative ease of space travel here and the multitude
of civilizations, I guess the situation would be very different for people
with genetic abnormalities like the ones who used to work Barnum's
carnivals. I mean if you didn't fit in on your planet, you'd be pretty sure
to find one where you did. Or one so removed that they weren't aware of the
standard features of your species anyway, so you'd be presumed to be the
norm. If you wanted to be considered normal, that is. By the same principle,
there would always be someplace out there where people would be fascinated
at how strange you seem."
"I think you've already found that place." Mulder felt the vibrations of
Alex's low rumble of laughter pass through him.
"I find your authority on the subject of normality very questionable," the
ensign mumbled in muzzy protest, delivering a playful poke to Alex's gut.
There was another amused rumble in response and the arms holding him
tightened a little.
A contented smile spread over Mulder's face as he slipped into dreams in his
lover's embrace.
XXXXX
They woke up sometime later, quickly agreeing that a shower was in order to
rid themselves of the uncomfortable residues left from their lovemaking. It
had been observed that Alex didn't seem to produce any sweat as a
Cardassian, but there was still Mulder's to contend with among other things.
Alex quickly became passionate again as they soaped each other under the
spray. Fox, while clearly receptive to his advances, was hopelessly
distracted by the question of how the ship's plumbing functioned and whether
it was actual H2O pouring from the nozzle. In affectionate exasperation Alex
chased a yelping, giggling Fox back into the bedroom where he wouldn't be
competing with a toilet bowl for the smaller man's attention. They tumbled
onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.
Sobering, Fox pulled himself up on one elbow to gaze down into Alex's
relaxed face.
"I've been thinking."
"No talk about sewage treatment and water distribution systems in bed."
"No, no...about us."
"Yes?"
"I think I understood that you want this to be an, um, ongoing thing?" Fox
asked awkwardly, tracing the contours of the Cardassian's well defined
stomach muscles with one finger.
"Oh yeah, I'm not done with you yet, baby. Not by a long shot." His reply
was accompanied by a sexy easy grin that Mulder had never seen him wear
before.
The boy inquired solemnly, "Does that mean we'll have to get married?"
Alex burst into laughter. "Oh man, you worried I knocked you up? Should I be
expecting Scully to show up with a shotgun?"
Fox socked him lightly on the shoulder. "No. It's the law thing. No major
character amongst the STNG crew has a long-term sexual relationship with
anyone unless they're married. I mean O'Brien was the only one getting any
on a regular basis and that came after the wedding. Well, he and Keiko lived
together and had a daughter, so at least you assumed he was getting some.
They never had a same sex marriage on the show, though. That means it won't
be available as an option until our writers introduce it." The boy ran a
frustrated hand through his shower wet hair. "We have a complication."
"Wait a minute, I don't think that's a law. I mean look at Troi. Riker was
porking her."
"No, that was all done with before the show began and they joined the
Enterprise."
"Well sure, that's what they said . He was the second banana and all that,
so they didn't want it to get around. Read between the lines, Fox. She was
getting it from Riker and probably Worf too—that's another reason she
wouldn't want her personal life to get blabbed about."
"No way. They even discussed it as being over when they were in private.
Besides, as Scully and Skinner have been saying, Starfleet regulations are
very forgiving of fraternization, so no need for concealment. And the Worf
thing was just a potential future prospect."
"Yeah, but...what about Clovus and Ablar?"
"Who?"
"You know—Clovus and Ablar. They were long-term. That settles that, so
let's fuck some more." Alex pulled Fox over, pressing against him and
letting him feel the evidence of his fresh arousal.
"There weren't any main characters called that," Mulder protested, trying to
pull away.
"Sure there were. They were chiefs of garbage disposal. I guess they were
cut out of the American broadcast. Probably for raunchiness. Figures.
American censors can be pretty uptight," his muffled voice emerged from a
mouth buried in Mulder's neck as he ran his hands over the silky skin of his
smoothly muscled chest. "Let me show you what they got up to on episode 34."
"There were never any characters named that. I know Star Trek," Fox asserted
with conviction, worming desperately out of Alex's powerful arms and
retreating to the edge of the bed where he crouched trying to catch his
breath.
Alex studied a flushed, tussled and determined little Fox for a moment
through half lidded eyes. "Just how much time have you spent on this stuff?"
He lunged quick as a cobra to capture the boy and pull him back into his
embrace. The Carassian nipped along his jaw and reached down to fondle his
groin. "We've got to get you a more interesting hobby, baby."
"Krycek, quit goofing around," Fox gasped out. "This is important. I don't
want to cause the destruction of the universe!"
Alex pinned Fox beneath his heavier frame, face to face and erections
pressed together, then stilled, releasing a sigh. "Look, Fox, that isn't a
concern, OK? I told you before that we got more freedom from the writers.
It's agreed: 'organizational regulations are maintained, but decisions of
individual characters on personal behavior and conduct are autonomous.' We
all decide for ourselves what to do and whether to follow any kind of
rules."
"Hey, what about that 'fighting equals apocalypse' stuff you said?" Mulder
demanded. "You were lying to me?"
"Nah, that was just what we call sweet talking, baby," Alex reassured him in
a lazy growl.
"You call threats of imminent doom sweet talk?"
"Sweeter than a fist in the face. So's this."
"Ooh...mmmm..."
Seductive aromas conspired with a slight jostling of the bed to bring Mulder
out of his peaceful slumber. He released a little moan, turning his face
into the pillow in defiance of wakefulness and the siren call of warm food.
The former agent had never felt so serene and safe as he did right now
wrapped up in the cocoon of blankets laden with his lover's scent. A
niggling fear warned him not to open his eyes lest the dream sensation
shatter. A heavy, solid bulk began stealthily insinuating itself against his
side. An extremely comfortable bulk that seemed to be skimming tingling
feathery touches over his shoulders and the rim of one ear. Resistance was
futile.
"Alex?" He looked up into a loving gaze and was bestowed a tender kiss on
the lips.
"Morning, baby. I brought food. You should eat."
"Mmmm...food." He lifted his head to discover the source of the appealing
smells, then immediately turned over and sat up, blinking to clear his
vision. "Let me guess, we're going to support our decadent lifestyle by
opening an on board buffet? I admire your entrepreneurial spirit, but you
won't be getting me into a hairnet."
Nearly every available surface in the room, aside from the bed, was covered
with tidily arranged plates of food, ewers of milk and assorted juices, tea
pots, coffee carafes, and various syrups and sauces. On the bedside table
beside Alex an entire turkey and a tower of steaks sat among more common
breakfast items. An enormous roast waited on the dresser.
"I wasn't sure what you'd want, and I was hungry too."
"I think you've got it covered. Thank you." He ran a hand over Alex's
smooth, hairless jaw. The Cardassian leaned into the caress. "I'm starving."
Mulder combined items from several dishes of fancy eggs, pancakes and meats
within reach of the bed onto one plate and dug in. He stopped, fork dangling
forgotten in his fingers, at the sight of his lover launching into
breakfast. The larger man had picked up the turkey in both hands and was
rapidly ripping off and swallowing great hunks of meat with strong teeth and
tossing motions of his powerful neck. The legs went down with the bones
intact.
"What else do you eat?"
"Don't know yet. All I feel like is meat. What type of syrup you want on
those, Fox?"
"The nearest one, don't go wandering off. Thanks. We need to do some
research. You know, find a book on the care and feeding of Cardassians. Or a
computer data file more likely. Let's hope that they don't dole out the food
on some kind of ration system—we'll be screwed for the rest of the month
after this. If they do, the plan is going to be dropping in on 'Mom' at
Skinner's quarters a lot. You'll be in charge of creating a diversion for
Skinner while I talk her into handing over the goods." The ensign flashed a
conspiratorial smile. "I mean, as captain, Skinner isn't going to go hungry
no matter what, right?"
"Sure thing, babe." Alex had moved on to the steaks by now, which were
disappearing at an alarming rate.
Returning to his own food, Mulder paused, chewing action slowed as he
examined the contents of his mouth. "This stuff tastes funny," he informed
Alex around the half-eaten mouthful. A grimace of distaste contorted his
features. "The pancakes are all grainy and the syrup has almost no sweetness
to it. What kind of syrup isn't sugar based?" A couple of desultory pokes
and nibbles at his eggs prompted further criticisms. "The yolks are just
like the whites in these eggs."
"The meat is missing flavor too," Alex shrugged, continuing to work his way
through the steaks. While he appreciated savory food as much as the next
person, most of his existence he had been spent living on the edge, having
to make do with whatever he could get his hands on. Besides that, the large
frame he now commanded demanded plenty of fuel, especially after the recent
exertions. "It's weird, but the food machine only seems to give bland, high
nutritional versions of whatever you ask for. It still looks right, so I
guess it's not something you'd be able to tell by watching the show."
"The writers are sticking it to us. For god's sake, there's no grease on
this bacon! It's an abomination!" Mulder cried out, tossing down the meat
strip in disgust. He pushed aside the offensive plate and huddled back
against his lover, feeling vaguely threatened by the duplicitous heaps of
healthful bounty surrounding them. "Alex, what am I going to do here?"
"Eat." The Cardassian hid a smile behind another piece of synthesized beef
as he cuddled Mulder consolingly. "You've been asleep for the past 15 hours.
No meals before that either. Not since the change, or you'd already know
about this."
"I meant here in the STNG universe, I'm just so...15 hours? That can't be
right. Nobody sleeps for 15 hours, let alone insomniacs. I only average a
couple hours a night. It must have just seemed longer to you." He felt
unusually rested, sure, but 15 hours? Not unless he had a severe concussion,
gun shot wounds or tobacco larvae gnawing through his lungs.
"I've been watching the clock behind that juice jug there. Guess I wore you
out. It was a big day for a little ensign." Alex was looking very smug.
Though Mulder pretended to glower a bit, he privately reveled in the instant
flood of memories of being fucked within an inch of his life by his
seemingly insatiable lover, memories reinforced by the pleasant lingering
soreness of his butt.
"I lost track of how many times you came," he conceded, suppressing a
schoolgirl sigh. "Another matter up for research: is the condition of being
a sex machine common to the Cardassian race or have they produced you as an
anomaly?"
"What makes you think this is a new thing?"
"Well, for one, Marita couldn't have gotten herself off that ship if she was
in a coma," Mulder remarked dryly.
"That was different, nothing like us," Alex returned dismissively. "I had
to fuck that stiff bitch. I was punching the clock."
"Maybe so, but if your libido had always been like this I would have noticed
you humping furniture and car bumpers while we were partners. Did you mean
15 hours from the point we first fell asleep or 15 hours continuous since
our last session?"
"Since the last one."
"Christ, it's a wonder nobody missed me and arrived to break up our little
love nest. Pays to be unimportant. They must have a lot of ensigns in the
shift rotation, I suppose."
"Actually, some dipshit kid showed up to collect you. I convinced him to
find a replacement until we say different."
"Um, thanks. It's not like I know how to fly the ship anyway. That's not
where I belong. I'm grossly unqualified for my jerk off assigned job and my
real skills are being wasted. How familiar."
"When the ship gets somewhere it'll be kind of like old times for you.
You'll still be investigating strange, unknown stuff, only instead of jet
lag in Slim Jim's Roach Motel you'll be shacked up here with me," Alex
winked.
"You really aren't leaving when we get to the conference?" Fox asked. His
voice was made a bit unsteady by a burst of hope and fear and feeling.
"Are you?"
"No. I mean I wasn't planning to—"
"Then I'm staying," the Cardassian stated with finality. "We already settled
that, remember? This is long-term."
"I know, but that was...I wasn't sure you'd still..."
"You can be sure." Alex pulled him close and kissed him until Mulder felt
dizzy with happiness and lack of oxygen.
Alex wanted to be with him and he wanted to be with Alex. Mulder felt a
hollow place inside him fill at last, a place that he hadn't even realized
he had. But there was still one thing troubling him...
"What am I going to do about my sister?"
"You can still look. I'll help you."
"She could be anywhere. I don't even know what sector of universe she's in."
"You didn't before either. At least now you're able to travel through space,
so when you find out where she was taken you can go get her. We'll
constantly be coming to different planets. Keep asking about her."
"I won't have any authority. I'm just an ensign."
"You never had the authority to do half of what you did. The writers told me
that you'll always be on the exploration teams, and the crap, low level job
you got will leave you plenty of time and room in that big brain for other
projects...and interests." The Cardassian stroked a hand along his lover's
firm thigh.
"You think it could work?"
"I think we might as well get our bearings here first before trying to
figure whether to stick it out or head off on our own. No need to decide
anything yet."
"That makes sense. Alex, promise me that whatever else the future brings we
won't ever, ever go on leave together and hang around in those wrap shirts
and drawstring pants."
"I'd never let that happen to us."
"What a relief."
"What I don't like is having piss all experience with the weapons here. Plus
there's all these different species around that I've never been up against
before. Hard to stay ahead of the game if you don't know what the fuck to
expect."
"That's not a problem. You can practice here on board. Worf had all these
combat simulation programs involving different terrains, fighting styles and
adversaries set up on the holo deck. You could too. It's like a chamber of
holographic illusions, but the images are physically substantial—"
"You mean you can feel them?"
"And fight with them, yeah. In Star Trek VIII Picard even killed Borg for
real with holo bullets by disabling the safety protocols. Everybody is
allowed access to the holo facilities. You just reserve a block of time and
enter your design specifications from what I can tell. That's it—the holo
deck!" Mulder drew a swift intake of breath. He scrabbled up to stand on his
knees in front of Alex and gathered the Cardassian's hands to his chest,
eyes shining like gilt gems. "I can get to be Kirk after all! Yes!! Think of
the possibilities! I'll be Captain Kirk and you can be Uhura...no?" Alex was
looking decidedly unreceptive to the idea. "Well, you don't fit Bones or
Spock. Sulu is too mellow. Chekov!...No? Too obvious? Scotty's no good
because he was always staying behind on the ship. It'll have to be one of
the security guys then, I guess, although none of them had any character
development.
OK, well, you are accompanying me, your intrepid captain, on an away mission
of mercy, answering a distress call from a planet we encounter. Little do we
know that it's a trap to lure innocent, heroic people like ourselves into
bondage! As soon as we arrive, a shield goes up to prevent the ship from
communicating or beaming us out. We're put in chains and brought before the
high court of his Empirial Majesty King Cocklong, who informs us that we are
to be consigned indefinitely to a life of sexual servitude to the
aristocrats of his court. I deliver a very stirring speech on the rights of
mankind in the universe, but it has no effect on the villainous rogue. He
steps down from his dais, approaching the fiery captain and his plucky
security officer. You try to intercept before he can harm your captain,
prevented by the quick restraining action of his evil, lecherous henchmen— "
"I don't like people touching me," Alex scowled.
"That's right! That's what you'll say, but we'll be forced to perform to
their dastardly will nonetheless! The King removes his tall, plumy
headdress, and the henchmen their helmets, revealing, to our horror, five
pulsing penises standing erect on the top of each one of their heads. The
King declares that he will tame the mouthy, spirited one personally,
striding forth to seize my jaw in a cruel grip and snap a golden leash to my
slave collar to lead me to his—"
"Stop it!"
"Yes, you cry out angrily against this threat to your commander, fighting
madly against the hands and chains holding you down. For a moment you
succeed in bursting free, only to hit smack into the chest of the King's
most powerful and debauched adviser, the nefarious Duke Wang! The guards are
upon you once again as the Duke lets loose a laugh and proclaims that this
wild cat is for him. The King orders that you should both accompany us to
the royal pleasure rooms, all of his dicks twitching as he runs a greedy
hand down my—"
Alex seized hold of Mulder's head desperately, shaking him and bellowing
into his face, "Not a fucking finger, got it? No piece of shit with five
dicks is getting anywhere near you!"
Mulder deduced that Alex was a bit perturbed. The reason for that was clear
- he hadn't heard the rest of the story! "Don't worry, of course we'll
rescue ourselves eventually. That'll come after having unspeakable acts
thrust upon us, receiving assistance from the android slave warden who wants
to learn what this human thing called kissing is all about, punching out a
bunch of guards, freeing the slaves, and having a final show down with the
King. His foul reign ended for good, I deliver some stern moral
chastisement, and it's beam out and credits. Then, on the next day of our
continuing journeys, we'll be kidnapped for the purpose of exhibition in an
interstellar zoo where we'll be enrolled in virility studies with fellow
abductees from the Pan Galactic Fire Brigade and a mating program with a
Crab Nebulan Catholic school cheerleading squad..."
X-Trek
by Grimilkin
Mulder entered the conference room after the Federation ambassadors and the
bridge officers superior to him in rank, which essentially meant following
behind everyone but the guy who fixed the beverage holders. He was sullen
and dazed from the revelations of the last few hours, the sudden shift in
his reality and position. The ensign took his place standing behind Skinner
and the other top-level ship's officers, those who would actually be active
in the negotiations, currently seating themselves along side the Federation
ambassadors at the table. The lead Cardassian representatives sat across
from them.
