The Animal I Wanted by Ladyluck Chapter Five The Blackbird I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendos, The blackbird whistling Or just after. —Wallace Stevens Scully was in the shower when Mulder awoke to bright sunshine and the loud, insistent cries of birds. Alex was up, showered and dressed. He was wearing Mulder's sweatshirt again. Mulder felt warmth spread through his chest at seeing that. Alex fixed him a cup of coffee and passed it across the counter. "Thanks," Mulder said. He took a sip. "Nice day." Alex cocked his head. "Outdoors, I mean," Mulder said, giving Alex a little smile. Alex gave him a look from under his lashes, penetrating and definitely flirtatious. Not the blatant eye-fuck he had given Merriman. This was something else, deep and intense, the green eyes full of promise and a simmering excitement. "Yeah, it is," Alex said. "We should take a walk after breakfast." "Yeah, we should." He expected an argument from Scully, but she was surprisingly agreeable to the idea. Well, the three of them had been cooped up in the cabin together with no respite for days now. She was probably just as eager to have some time alone as they were. Walking along the trail, he felt Alex's hand brush the back of his. If he had been with a woman—Scully, for example—he would have taken her hand. But the fact that Alex was a man, and the history between them, made it difficult. It would have been very comfortable, very natural with Scully. Or maybe it wouldn't have; maybe this was always the way when you became lovers. And he could not imagine feeling this kind of anticipation, making his breath catch in his chest and his whole body tingle, with anyone else but Alex. Impulsively, he seized Alex's hand and pulled him around for a kiss. Alex returned the kiss with fervor, even rubbing against Mulder a little and biting him on the neck. Mulder kept hold of Alex's hand after the kiss, leading Alex along the trail toward the clearing that was becoming their chosen spot. It did feel a bit strange, a bit awkward, to be holding Alex's hand as they walked along, but Mulder decided he liked it. Alex darted an odd look at him a couple of times, but he did not pull his hand away. "So," Mulder said as they reached the clearing. He dropped the backpack on the ground and grinned at Alex. "Wanna fuck me?" Alex dug a bottle of water out of the backpack. He cleared his throat. "Actually, Mulder, I—" "Oh, hell, of course—you're not in any shape to—I forgot. Okay, we can—" "I want you to fuck me." Alex took a little drink of water, not looking at Mulder. His tone was casual, no-big-deal, but it was a big deal, it was huge, and Mulder knew it. "Okay," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, hoping his voice would not betray the surging excitement he felt. He got some water out for himself and spread the blanket on the ground. They stood for a moment, sipping water and eyeing each other. Mulder could feel himself getting hard. He capped the bottle and tossed it to the ground. "C'mere," he said. Alex stepped forward, into his arms. Mulder stroked Alex's jaw and the line of his oddly elfin ear. Combing his fingers up through the silky dark hair, he pulled Alex's mouth to his, opening wide and kissing him deeply, capturing Alex's tongue with his own. Alex bit him lightly, sliding his teeth over Mulder's tongue with the barest of pressure, a deliberate caress. Mulder closed his eyes. It took so much trust for both of them just to be with each other, to open up like this. At any given moment there was the possibility of inflicting damage. When he opened his eyes Alex was watching him. Looking into Alex's eyes was like walking into a forest; he could disappear in there. "You're still wearing my shirt, you know," Mulder murmured. "You want it back?" Alex's voice was low and smoky. "Yeah. Take it off." Take it off me. Take it off me. Alex had said those words before, in Mulder's apartment, in considerably different circumstances. Mulder glanced at him quickly, but there was no malice in Alex's face now. He was watching Mulder intently. The words were an olive branch: I'm giving you another chance, to get it right this time. Mulder smiled at him. Slowly, he reached for the hem of the shirt and began to pull it up. Somewhat hesitantly, Alex lifted his arms. Excitement made Mulder clumsy, and then there was the matter of the prosthetic arm. He tried to remember how Alex had done it, the few times he had seen Alex remove his shirt. Alex seemed a little tense as Mulder struggled with the shirt. The last thing Mulder wanted was to make him feel self-conscious. "Sorry," he said. "I'm no good at this." To his relief Alex smiled, very slightly, and wriggled his right arm out to help Mulder tug the shirt over his head and then down over the prosthetic arm. Mulder bent to lap and suck at Alex's exposed nipples. Alex gave a low moan, his fingers stroking through Mulder's hair. As soon as Mulder lifted his head, however, Alex stepped back and began unlacing his boots, clearly anxious to get on with it. He stripped off his jeans, fast and businesslike. One of these days, Mulder thought, he was going to make Alex sit still so he could undress him slowly and sensually. Today, however, Mulder was equally eager to get the show on the road. He pulled off his own shirt and drew Alex to him for a kiss. Alex returned the kiss, then surprised Mulder by leaning forward and pressing his face into the crook of Mulder's neck for a second. His breathing sounded a little shaky. Was he nervous about this? It's okay, I understand. I'll be gentle, take it slow. Mulder knew he would be met with furious resistance if he expressed this aloud to Alex. He massaged Alex's neck and shoulder, trying to convey the message without words. Alex stepped back. He smiled. "Get undressed." Mulder removed his shorts and sneakers. Alex gazed at him, lips parted, then ducked his head, looking shy and almost proud. Mulder felt a surge of elation at Alex's clear appreciation of his body. Alex cleared his throat. "Not bad, Mulder," he said softly. Mulder reached out, trailed his fingers down Alex's belly. "Likewise." Alex met his eyes and held them for a moment. Then he slowly reached for the straps of the prosthesis. Mulder watched with trepidation as Alex undid the straps and laid the prosthesis carefully on the ground. Then Alex stood before him, completely stripped now of all his black denim and leather and hardware. He could have been a broken piece of classical statuary, Mulder thought. That image made it easier to take, to focus his eyes where they did not want to go. Except that Alex was not a statue; he was too vividly, fiercely alive. His eyes met Mulder's, filled for a moment with a terrible trust, then moved to rest on a spot in the trees beyond Mulder. Mulder drew in a breath through dry lips. Alex was offering him so much; his body, inside and out. He forced himself to look, really look, at Alex's arm, the horrible ridges of scar tissue where the flesh had been burned and ripped. He could see what a mess it must have been, how savagely Alex must have struggled against the knife. It was almost unbearable to think of it, to view it, and yet he knew he had to force himself. He could not close his eyes and flinch away this time. Shit, Mulder, you just have to look at it. He had to live through it. And with it. He focused on the rough, jagged line that ran up along Alex's bicep. The blade must have slipped there...Alex must have managed to rip his arm from their grasp for a second... For the first time he understood that the scars were not only a testament to the horrifying disfigurement and suffering that Alex had undergone. They were also a testimonial to Alex's courage, his determination, how ferociously he had resisted and fought back. He would never be taken easily; he would not be beaten by this. These were battle scars. Alex was a fighter, not a victim. Mulder reached to touch Alex, running the back of his hand down along Alex's chest and belly, going lightly over the still-dark bruises and the scars and marks from other, older wounds. He smiled at Alex, letting the admiration show in his face. "You're incredible." He walked around to stand behind Alex. Alex tensed, ever so slightly, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Mulder. Mulder put a hand on Alex's back, stroking with his thumb in a gesture of reassurance as he let his eyes travel downward. The muscles of Alex's thighs and calves were long and powerful, and his ass was utterly gorgeous. Mulder slid his hand lower to Alex's hip, then ran a finger along the little crease just under Alex's buttocks; he knew Alex liked that. Alex responded with a quiet hiss of pleasure. Mulder stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Alex from behind. He felt Alex instinctively stiffen, then relax and lay his head back on Mulder's shoulder. Alex reached back to run a hand over Mulder's flank, giving a proprietary squeeze. "Fuck me," he whispered. "You bet." Mulder settled to the blanket, pulling Alex down beside him. There was a momentary awkwardness as they looked at each other, Mulder waiting for direction and Alex seemingly unable to give any beyond the whispered words, "Fuck me." "Uh, how do you want it, Alex? On your back?" He didn't want to do it from behind, didn't want any reminders of that other time. "Sure, that's fine." Alex seemed relieved that Mulder was taking the reins. He stretched out on the blanket, gazing up at Mulder. The air seemed heavy with expectation. Mulder leaned down to kiss him, deep and slow, putting his hands on either side of Alex's face. Alex reached up to cover Mulder's hand with his own, kissing Mulder back passionately. But after a moment he pulled away, laying his hand on Mulder's chest. "Got a rubber?" "Uh...yeah." Somewhat taken aback by Alex's terse tone, Mulder fumbled in the bag for the condoms and lube. He squirted a generous amount of lube on his fingertips and reached down to the cleft of Alex's ass. He remembered Alex really liking this when he had done it before. This time, however, Alex seemed to tense up, closing his eyes and drawing in long, deep breaths. "Okay," Alex said abruptly. He wasn't really hard yet, and Mulder frowned, wondering if he was doing it wrong. Alex didn't seem to be nearly as vocal or responsive as usual. He still felt very tight and tense to Mulder, but it had been a long time since Mulder had fucked anyone, and Alex undoubtedly knew his own body better than Mulder did. Alex shifted, lifting his legs a bit. "Go ahead," he said. Mulder rolled on a condom, wishing Alex would be a little more—participatory. He seemed edgy and closed off. Was it just nervousness? Or was it Mulder's inexperience? Maybe his technique was faulty; he didn't know how to turn Alex on for this. His vast knowledge of porn was of no help here. Those guys were always instantly good to go. "Ready?" Mulder said. Alex opened his eyes and nodded. Mulder felt reassured. He slathered on the lube and positioned himself. Alex closed his eyes again, biting his lip. Gently, Mulder pressed into him. Alex froze up instantly, resisting his entry. He had broken out in a fine sheen of sweat. Mulder stroked his leg. "Just take it easy..." Alex frowned, setting his jaw with a resolute expression. His look at Mulder was challenging. "Just been—a long time—and you're not—not small, Mulder. Go on." Mulder felt the hard ring of muscle gradually relax a tiny bit, enough to let him push his way in. The sensation was unbelievable, velvet heat squeezing the head of Mulder's cock. Pleasure flooded his circuits, making him gasp and groan. Alex also gasped and gave a small, choked cry, but it didn't seem to be from pleasure. His legs were shaking and he was quiet and still, never a good sign. Mulder looked at him in concern. "It hurts? You want me to stop?" Alex's teeth were clenched, but he shook his head. "S'okay...I'll go slow..." Damn, Alex was so tight, almost painfully so, a hot fist around Mulder's cock. It took all Mulder's self-control to keep from thrusting in hard. He rubbed Alex's chest encouragingly and pushed in a little further. Alex stiffened, his fingers clenching on Mulder's arm, and grimaced in pain. His eyes were tightly shut and he had lost his erection completely. Mulder waited a few moments, giving Alex time to get used to the sensation, but Alex seemed to be getting more distressed and tense by the second. It looked like he was digging his toes into the ground. "Alex..." Mulder bent to kiss him and tasted blood. Alex had bitten his lip so hard he had reopened the cut there. Shocked, Mulder pulled back. "Alex...Christ. What's up?" "Shit, Mulder, just fuck me!" "No. I told you I wasn't a rapist." He pulled out, sitting back on his knees. Alex sat up too. He was breathing erratically, staring down at the ground Mulder laid a hand on Alex's knee. Alex glanced at him, almost angrily, then looked down. A dark flush colored his cheeks. "Listen, don't—" Mulder rubbed Alex's leg. The muscles were rigid under his hand. "There's plenty of other ways we can play. Just tell me what you need." Alex gritted his teeth. "I need you to shut up and fuck me." "Forget it." Mulder shook his head in frustration. He rolled the condom off and tossed it on a corner of the blanket. "I'm not going to keep hurting you." "You've never had a problem with hurting me in the past." "Do you really want to drag out the past, Alex?" The belligerence in his own voice shook Mulder. If Alex had been wearing a shirt he probably would have grabbed him by it at that moment. He took a deep breath, struggling to stay calm. In another second they would be at each other's throats and then Alex would storm off back to the cabin and stay silent for the rest of the day, fighting his demons alone. And Mulder would never get to fuck him. Alex lifted his head and shot Mulder a look, rage and pain and shame and fear and longing all mingling in that one searing glance. Mulder laid his hand on Alex's jaw, letting his fingers splay out to stroke Alex's neck. Slowly, he rubbed his thumb across Alex's lips, first the upper and then the lower. Alex seized the pad of Mulder's thumb in his teeth, biting almost hard enough to hurt, then sucked at it. Mulder brought his other hand around, ran it down Alex's chest to his belly. With a small, strangled growl, Alex reached for him, rolling him over and pinning him to the ground. "Mulder," he said, his voice rough, "what part of shut up and fuck me don't you understand?" Mulder ran his hands down the muscles of Alex's back. "Well, kiss me, you aggressive beast." Alex's kisses were like the first time, hungry and desperate, attacking Mulder's mouth. Mulder rubbed his back in long, rhythmic strokes, trying to calm him down a little. Not that this wasn't exciting—any other time he would have responded enthusiastically—but Alex was too wound up right now. He wanted to make this good. "Easy, easy...work with me here, baby." "Baby?" "You don't like that...sweetcheeks?" Alex stared at him for a second, looking outraged, then the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. "Asshole." Mulder moved his mouth to Alex's ear, made his voice a caress. "Cocksucker." Alex bit Mulder's lower lip. Mulder grinned up at him, pinching his ass. Okay, he's smiling a little, that's good. Alex shifted lower now, sucking and nipping at Mulder's nipples, then moving lower still, the hot wet vortex of his mouth closing over the head of Mulder's cock. He's blowing me now, that's—UNNNGH—really good... All capacity for rational thought was deserting Mulder. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the pleasure of Alex's tongue. Groaning, he tousled Alex's hair, pushing his fingers roughly through it this way and that. His excitement was building, almost unbearably; he knew he would not last long this way. "Hey," he managed, "better...tone it down there...if you want..." Alex stopped immediately. "Okay," he said briskly. "You ready?" Without waiting for an answer, he rolled over to lie on his back again. Mulder slid over next to him, lying propped on an elbow so he could look into Alex's eyes. "Sure, I'm ready. How about you? What do you need?" Alex didn't answer. Mulder laid a hand on the side of Alex's face and leaned down to kiss him, slowly and gently. "Do it now, Mulder," Alex breathed. "I don't want to fool around. Just fuck me." Mulder studied his face in silence. Alex seemed determined to force it into a quick and ugly rut that would feel like rape to both of them. He wondered why. Fear? A wish to punish Mulder for what he had done? Or did he get off on that? True, Alex had had a hard-on in Hong Kong, when Mulder punched him and shoved him up against the phones, but Mulder had always thought that was due to proximity, not pain. He remembered his own hard-on, grinding up against Krycek, the smell of Krycek's fear and his sweat. Was this why Krycek never hit back? "Alex," he said curiously, "do you like it when I hurt you?" He saw Alex's shock, the play of feelings in those expressive eyes, Alex going still again and shaking his head, very slightly. No. "Alright, I didn't think so. Just take it easy, let me catch my breath a little. We have time." Suddenly it hit him, and he could have smacked himself in the head for not realizing: Alex saw this as a weakness, and he was deadly afraid of looking weak. To push ahead and get it over with, no matter how traumatic and painful, would, in his mind, be proving something to himself. To let Mulder take time, take care of him, be gentle, would be showing weakness. Mulder remembered himself, the first time, urging Alex on—"C'mon, give it to me, harder, don't be a wuss"—slapping Alex on the ass. So now he thinks he's gotta do the same. But it hadn't been painful and traumatic for Mulder. And he wasn't buying the been-a-long-time excuse. Hell, it had been about sixteen years since Mulder had been fucked; he had felt some discomfort at first, but nothing like this. Nor did he believe it was due to any inordinate size on his part, flattering though that thought might be. This seemed more psychological than physical. Alex, you fucked-up, wounded, beautiful...macho dumbass. What the hell am I going to do with you? Mulder decided to give him an out. He sat up, giving Alex a light slap on the thigh. "Listen, I know you're probably still in bad shape from—the other day. And we probably shouldn't be out in the open like this. Let's not push it. We can try this again when you're healed." "Mul-derrr..." Alex said in that husky, insistent tone, the one that could strip Mulder's skin off. He sat up, too, giving Mulder a piercing look. This was something Alex wanted, and as usual he was determined to get it. Mulder made his voice as gentle and neutral as he could. "Alex." At the change in Mulder's tone, Alex froze. "Yeah?" he said, almost inaudibly. "I just need to know, Alex—was it—because of what happened in my apartment?" The muscles of Alex's jaw tightened. He blinked, looking down. "No—yeah—I—fuck." He punched the ground, exhaling sharply and turning his head away. "I'm sorry," Mulder told him. The words sounded terribly inadequate. "Just—leave it alone." Alex's voice was strained. "It's not—just—drop it." Alex clearly wasn't ready to talk about what had happened to him, but Mulder got the picture. He wanted to punch something as well. He kept a tight control over his reactions, not wanting Alex to misunderstand. It was not Alex he was so angry at, but himself. His actions might not be the cause of this, but, as Alex had said about the silo, they sure hadn't helped. I would have given you what you wanted. Why did you have to take it that way? "Mulder..." There was a hardness to Alex's tone, a warning: I'm going to tell you something you don't want to hear. But Mulder could guess. "You killed the one that did it." Alex swallowed hard, lifting his chin a fraction. Mulder could almost sense the battle going on inside him, could feel Alex fighting his inclination to throw this in Mulder's face, put up the walls, pull away. "Ones," Alex whispered. "Yeah." He had not pulled away, and the ball was in Mulder's court now. But he felt no condemnation, only a fierce, almost protective sorrow. "Good." Alex gave a small dry chuckle. "Your morality's changed," he said, his voice rusty. Mulder put his arm around Alex's shoulders. It did not feel like a sexual gesture. Maybe it was not. He had said they were friends. "A lot about me has changed." "Yeah," Alex said. "Me too." They sat for a few moments like that, without speaking. A small movement caught Mulder's eye: one of the little red-spotted salamanders had crawled out and was sitting on a log. Mulder sent a silent call to it. Hey, aren't you supposed to be my spirit guide? Tell me where to go from here; what do I do now? But the little animal just went on basking in the sunlight. "We should head back," Alex said. He was staring off into the distance with his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. His tone was flat, quiet; only the tenor of his voice, higher than usual and sounding slightly strained, gave any indication of what he might be feeling. Mulder could sense how disheartened Alex was, and his tension, his dislike of being so exposed in every way like this. The heat of Alex's skin seemed to flow up through Mulder's palm, traveling along his arm. The light shifted, and a breeze gusted through the trees, sending leaves spiraling down and riffling through their hair. Something shifted inside Mulder as well in that moment, the walls dropping away, leaving him filled with a calm sureness. It was such an unexpected benediction that he laughed aloud. Alex shot him a look, unsure and suspicious. Mulder rubbed his shoulder some more. "Alex." He was elated to hear his own voice, low and warm; he sounded seductive and in control. "You know how long I've wanted to fuck you?" Alex opened his mouth, looking at Mulder with a little frown. Mulder chuckled again. "Since the first time I met you." Alex's eyes widened at that. He still looked hesitant, but no longer seemed ready to bolt. "Yeah. We waited a long time for this, Alex. I don't want to it to be quick and dirty. I want to go slow and enjoy every minute." He reached with his other hand to turn Alex's face to his. Alex's hair was mussed down over his forehead, and Mulder used his lips and tongue to gently brush it back. Alex made a tiny, breathy sound. Mulder traced his tongue over the fine dark arch of Alex's eyebrows, then moved lower. Alex had his eyes closed, and Mulder delicately licked the thick, feathered lashes. Alex said, "Hey!" very softly, a little gasp of surprise and near-laughter. Mulder outlined Alex's lips with his tongue, and Alex reached for him, sucking at the tip of Mulder's tongue before Mulder withdrew it. Alex licked and bit his own lips. He was starting to get hard again. He leaned in a little to try to kiss Mulder, but Mulder had moved on, catching Alex's earring in his teeth and then tonguing Alex's ear. Alex tilted his head, making a soft growling noise. Mulder ran his hand down along Alex's chest, just brushing his thumb over one nipple. Alex tried to kiss him again, and again Mulder eluded the kiss, smiling at him. "Mulder..." "Oh yeah," Mulder breathed into Alex's ear, "yeah, that's right, I'm gonna tease you a little. Yeah, I know you say you don't like being teased, but it's all about trust." He darted his tongue into Alex's ear again, then gave a gentle nip to the sensitive spot just beneath, causing Alex to arch his back with a tiny hiss. "Oh yeah, that's nice, huh?" Mulder kept up his oral attentions, licking and nuzzling and nibbling. "You're gonna like this, I'm gonna get you so hot, I'm gonna make you get noisy and beg for this..." He began to gently push Alex back down to the blanket. He felt invincible, irresistible. "You've just gotta trust me on this. We'll get there, Alex. You just relax and enjoy the ride." He reached for Alex's hand, linking his fingers through Alex's and pulling Alex's arm up above his head. Alex stared up at him, his lips parted. Again Mulder saw that mixture of apprehension and arousal. Mulder gripped Alex's left shoulder, then leaned down to kiss him hard, tongue-fucking that succulent mouth. Alex growled softly, thrilling Mulder. With his tongue, Mulder traced a path from Alex's chin down along his sensitive neck to the hollow of his throat. Alex arched his head back and growled again. Mulder took his time on Alex's nipples, sliding his teeth over them ever so lightly, then increasing the pressure almost to the point of pain, before using the flat of his tongue to lap and soothe them. Alex's little gasps became moans and then definite deep groans as Mulder drew first one and then the other into his mouth, sucking hard and deep. He was definitely getting vocal now. Mulder kept it up for several minutes, alternating, until Alex's nipples stood up hard and swollen. "Mmm, yeah...you look so hot right now." Mulder kept talking whenever he came up for air. Alex arched his back, pressing up against Mulder's mouth as if trying to direct Mulder, but he did not move his hand from where Mulder had placed it. Mulder ran his hands lightly up and down the sides of Alex's body and over Alex's thighs. Slowly, he trailed his mouth down Alex's belly. Alex was completely hard now. Alex let his legs fall open, and Mulder rubbed his cheek against Alex's thighs, letting the stubble graze him lightly, then bit and sucked on the hard long muscles. "Go down on me," Alex panted. "Is that a whine I hear?" Mulder traversed Alex's belly with tiny nips, just above the thatch of silky dark hair. He felt the silk heat of Alex's cock nudge his cheek, but he avoided it, moving his tongue to the edge of Alex's thigh. "Mul-derrr...c'mon..." Definite whining. Mulder could feel Alex quivering, taut as a drawn bowstring. He flicked his tongue into the juncture between cock and thigh, and Alex actually whimpered, much to Mulder's delight. Oh, yes, one day he was definitely going to tease Alex past the point of endurance, make him lose control completely. But not today. Today he wanted Alex to relax and trust him. He traced the tip of his tongue delicately up the shaft of Alex's cock, then swiped the flat of his tongue roughly across the head. Alex gave a deep, guttural moan as Mulder began to pleasure him in earnest now. He had never felt so in tune with Alex's body, so able to read his sounds and signals. He could tell when Alex was getting close; could hear his breathing change and feel his body start to tighten up. "Hey, you want to come?" He ran a hand down Alex's thigh. "You might be more relaxed that way, huh?" "No...no." Alex raised his head. "I want to come with you fucking me." Goddamn stubborn Alex. But Mulder had told him they would get there, and maybe they would. "Okay, then, you better settle down a little." He turned his attentions to Alex's balls, taking first one and then the other into his mouth to suck on them gently as Alex very vocally showed his appreciation. Mulder flicked his tongue under Alex's balls and Alex responded by lifting his legs a bit more. Encouraged, Mulder went a little lower, tonguing lightly along the cleft of Alex's ass. He could smell the faint almond fragrance of Scully's expensive bath soap, mingled with Alex's own sweet musky scent. Alex gave a deep low moan that was the most erotic thing Mulder had ever heard. "Oh yeah, that 's what you wanted, huh?" Mulder traced with his tongue, exploring the satiny heat that bloomed under his attention. The muscles of Alex's thigh grew taut under his hand. Alex's cries became louder, sounding almost astonished, as Mulder swirled his tongue around, more forcefully this time. He thrust the tip of his tongue inside, gently at first, then harder and deeper. Coming up for air, Mulder noticed that Alex was curling his toes again, from pleasure and not pain this time, he hoped. He lifted his head further to check. Alex was arched up, running his hand over his chest and belly and crying out incoherently. Mulder felt his own cock pounding and knew he better calm down a bit, or fucking Alex would be a moot point. He closed his eyes briefly. Alex growled softly. Mulder opened his eyes to find Alex had raised his head too and was looking at him. "Good, huh?" Mulder gasped out. For answer, Alex reached out and pushed Mulder's head firmly back down, holding him there. Mulder grinned in delight. He went to it with gusto, tongue-fucking Alex. Alex groaned and bucked and clutched Mulder's hair. It sounded like he was going into sexual overdrive. This was good, very good. Mulder wet one finger and gently inserted it next to his tongue. Alex loosened his grip on Mulder's head enough so that Mulder could reach the lube. He squirted a generous dollop of Astroglide onto his fingers and resumed his slow, rhythmic penetration. "Oh yeah, that's it...do it, Fox!" "You ready, Alex?" Alex lifted his head up a bit, meeting Mulder's eyes. He nodded. Mulder rolled a condom on, squirted on more lube, lots more—hope this stuff is biodegradable!—and positioned himself, just pressing the head of his cock up against Alex. He stroked his hands down the sides of Alex's body and up along the outside of his thighs. Alex had his eyes closed but still seemed fairly relaxed. Mulder pushed in and Alex tensed and pulled back, his fingers curling into a fist. Mulder stopped. He reached for Alex's hand and held it. "I'm okay...go on." He squeezed Alex's hand. He remembered Alex fucking him, going slowly, and reassuring him. "This happened with me too, Alex...the pain will pass. Take a few deep breaths and try to relax." Gently, he pushed in a little further. He was glad he had taken it slow before; he no longer felt so close to the edge. Concentrating on Alex was taking his mind off his own need. "Yeah, I'm good," Alex said hoarsely, "fuck me." He wasn't totally good, Mulder thought, he still looked stressed and was gripping Mulder's hand just a little too hard. With his free hand, Mulder reached around for the lube and managed to maneuver the cap off and squeeze some into his palm. He felt inordinately proud of having done so; Krycek wasn't the only one who could do things with just one hand. He took hold of Alex's cock, sliding his fingers smoothly around the shaft, feeling it stiffen in his hand as he pushed in a little further. Alex gave a little growl; from pleasure, not pain, Mulder hoped. He began a gentle rhythm, moving his hand on Alex in time with each slow thrust as he pressed inward, keeping it gradual, tantalizing, not satisfying. He needed Alex to want this, not just for what it would mean, but physically as well. Alex's hand was kneading his now, urging him. Alex shifted his ass, pushing against Mulder. It was maddening for both of them; every nerve in Mulder's body was screaming with the strain of not driving into Alex, not fucking him hard and hot and wild. He kept up the deliberate, unhurried rhythm, stroking his hand slowly up the shaft of Alex's cock, drawing out a bit, then pushing in while plunging his fist down over Alex's cock, firmly and suddenly. He could hear Alex catch his breath and moan softly each time he did that. Stroke. Slow... Plunge. Stroke. Alex's little moans were growing louder, more desperate now. Slowly, slowly... Alex let go of Mulder's hand and grabbed his ass—damn, Mulder had forgotten how strong he was!—ramming Mulder forward. "Fuck me!" he gritted. Mulder looked down into Alex's eyes and felt engulfed by the intensity there. His control began to crumble and he pushed into Alex with equal urgency, sliding it home, all the way, oh god...fantastic... And then they were there, he was in, and Alex was right there with him, they were riding the wave together. He cupped his hands under the round taut muscles of Alex's glorious ass, lifted him up a fraction so that he was hitting the sweet spot with every thrust. Alex's mouth and eyes rounded and he let out a single soft "Oh!" that seemed tapped from the very center of his being. Mulder felt the rush of it through his own body. Ohmygod, look at him, so hot, I'm gonna come right now... Baseball stats, he tried to think of baseball stats, major league pitchers with the highest ERA... Alex lifted his legs higher, wrapping them around Mulder's waist. Mulder started a slow, steady rhythm, trying to make sure he was angling just right, loving the feel of being inside Alex. Alex had his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open, lifting his chin with every thrust. Mulder loved looking at him, loved knowing that he had done this. On impulse he leaned down to kiss Alex, and Alex's mouth opened greedily into his, sucking at Mulder's lips and tongue Alex grimaced suddenly, grunting sharply in pain, and Mulder had a heart-stopping moment of doubt. Shit, maybe there really is something physically wrong. But then Alex was pushing at his chest. "Mulder...shift your weight..." Mulder breathed in relief. "Forgot...your ribs...I'm sorry." He rolled to the side, pulling Alex over with him. "This better?" Alex let out a deep cry that Mulder took to mean, "Yes." Mulder began to move again, slowly. Alex dug his fingers into Mulder's back, emitting loud, bestial sounds that were only sometimes intelligible. "Ohyeah... right there...oh god!" In this new position, Mulder found he could not thrust as fast or hard, which was good, as it slowed things down a bit. Fucking Alex was the most incredible thing he had ever felt, and he wanted it to last a while. He kissed Alex hungrily, relishing the sensations, then wrapped his arms around him. Alex squeezed him back; his right arm, under Mulder, was around Mulder's back, and he reached with the stump of his left to give Mulder a little hug as well. Emotion surged up within Mulder. It felt as though their bodies were in perfect synch, his own pleasure blending with Alex's, their scents and cries mingling in the air. He rubbed his nose against Alex's, laughing. Alex smiled back, breathless and disheveled, sweat running down his face. Mulder licked it away. They were approaching the home stretch, the rhythm and urgency increasing. Mulder rolled Alex onto his back again, careful to support his weight on his arms this time. Looking down, he savored the view of their two bodies moving together, Alex's cock rubbing against his stomach and his own cock sliding in and out of Alex. He began to thrust faster, harder, building up the force and pace until they were slamming together in a fierce, frenzied passion. He heard himself grunting aloud, everything in him gloriously unleashed. Alex was panting, flushed, as close to total abandon as Mulder had ever seen him. He cried out incoherently, clawed Mulder's back and bit him. Mulder felt himself about to go over the edge at seeing his lover's arousal. "Yeah, Mulder! Oh yeah ...ohyes...Fox! Fuck me!" "That's it Alexei," Mulder grunted, "come for me...let go..." Then he could feel it, the powerful tremors surging through Alex's body as Alex's muscles tightened around him. Alex arched up, throwing his head back in a long, raw, animal scream. Mulder was sure he could be heard by Scully, any lurking members of the Consortium, the local constabulary, and everyone else within a ten-mile radius. He really couldn't say he cared, though, because his own orgasm was gathering like a fierce bright wave in his gut. He felt Alex's wild, ecstatic release as intensely as if it were his own, the hard surges of pleasure reverberating in his own body. Alex's orgasm seemed to go on and on, unabating in its intensity. Then the wave crashed through Mulder with unbelievable force. He was conscious of his own voice yelling and Alex shuddering under him, the sensations splintering through him in a thousand fragments of ecstatic, pulsating, spiraling light. Mulder came back slowly, aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through him. He was lying half on top of Alex, his head bowed against Alex's shoulder. "Jesus Christ," Mulder breathed. He lifted his head to look at Alex. Alex's eyes were wide, staring upwards through the leaves in a kind of wonder. Mulder pulled out as gently as he could, and started to roll off Alex, but Alex tightened his arm around Mulder, holding him in place. Mulder was astonished. Alex never cuddled after sex. But now he was clinging to Mulder as though Mulder was a life preserver and he never wanted to let go. Mulder made himself comfortable, bringing his hand to rest at Alex's waist and kissing Alex lightly on the chest. He could hear Alex's heart beating, the rhythm gradually slowing to normal. Such an incredible thing, to lie with your head on someone's chest and listen to the beating of their heart. It struck him that he could not remember the last time he had done that. If he ever had. All his senses felt heightened, the warm breeze like fur brushing over his skin. He licked Alex's chest, tasting him, smelling him, breathing him in. Every soft little sigh was magnified. He had an urge to ask Alex to say something, just so he could hear that sexy voice rumble under his ear, but he didn't want to break the mood. Feeling supremely content with Alex's arm wrapped around him, he let his eyes drift closed and drowsed. He became aware of Alex shaking him gently. Alex kissed his hair. He turned his wrist to show Mulder his watch, sighing ruefully. They dressed in silence, but it was not an awkward or distant silence. The little smile Alex gave him squeezed his heart, and when Mulder reached to brush some leaves off Alex's back, the touch seemed to crackle between them like an electric current. "Christ," Mulder said, as they began walking back. "I think that was the most intense orgasm of my life." Alex didn't reply, just smiled again. When they got back to the cabin, Alex did something else entirely unexpected: he curled up on the cot, kicked off his boots, and promptly fell asleep. This was unprecedented; Alex never took naps. He would sometimes sit against the wall and close his eyes, but they would fly open at the slightest disturbance. Now, even the crash of Scully dropping a pan on the floor did not rouse him. Mulder sat at the counter, snacking on microwave popcorn and feeling a certain amount of smugness as he gazed at his sleeping younger lover. Mulder, you big stud, you wore him out. Scully was also gazing at Alex, much less complacently. "Mulder, maybe you shouldn't have taken such a long walk. He's still recuperating." Mulder smiled benignly at his partner. "He's okay." "You didn't push him, did you? To prove a point, or whatever?" Mulder could only laugh helplessly. "No...it was good, we worked some things out that we needed to, I think." To forestall any further questions, he added, "What's to eat?" "Yogurt...oranges." "Too disgustingly healthy." Scully leaned back in her chair and stretched. "Next time I'll get you some deep-fried chocolate-covered pork rinds." "Only if they have hot sauce on them." "Krycek's wearing your shirt again," Scully observed. She sounded somewhat disapproving. Mulder shrugged. "That's all right. It looks better on him anyway." "On Krycek?" "Yeah...you don't think he's good-looking?" Scully made a small face of distaste. "I think he looks like a thug." "You think he is a thug. But if you just saw him, not knowing anything he's done, wouldn't you find him attractive?" Are you blind, Scully? Haven't you looked at his eyes, his ass, his mouth? Doesn't that voice make your toes curl with desire? The way he moves, his legs and his neck and...well, you haven't seen everything but believe me, he's incredible. "Some people might like him, I suppose..." Scully cast a dubious glance at the sleeping Alex. "He's not really my type." Who is, Paul? Paul is hotter than Alex? Not in this zip code, baby. Mulder decided to end this conversation before he started dancing around the room singing 'My boyfriend is cuter than yours!' He scooped up another handful of popcorn. "So, did you talk to Skinner?" Scully ran her fingers through her hair. "I had a long talk with him today. They're trying to figure out what to do with Krycek." Mulder forced himself to keep a neutral tone. "And?" Scully shrugged. "They're still not sure. Witness Protection, possibly. He asked if I'd be willing to come back here for another week, after my two days off, so they can sort it out." "Would you?" Scully smiled wryly. "I suppose, Mulder." She tapped her pen against the table. "So you think someone else hacked into the system, to set Krycek up?" Mulder nodded. Scully frowned. "Why him?" "They probably suspected he was working behind their backs and wanted to put him away. They've tried to kill him—" The words caught in Mulder's throat, sending an unexpected and turbulent swell of emotion through him. He felt hot and cold all over, the hair on his arms standing up. Scully was staring at him. "Mulder? You okay?" Mulder coughed out a popcorn kernel. "Just...went down the wrong way." Scully returned to her paperwork, sorting through fragments and making notes. Mulder knew he should join her, but he had already gone through everything they had gotten off the retrieved hard drive. The Gunmen were working to get stuff out that had been wiped clean, but they had nothing new yet. He felt himself incapable of doing anything at that moment but sitting there watching Alex sleep. What would happen now? What did he want to happen now? Of course, he didn't want Alex to be in danger. But neither, he had to selfishly admit, did he want Alex to disappear into the Witness Protection Program. Would Alex even be happy there, renamed Wally Bland and stuck out in Goatsucker, Iowa working at the local Bob's Big Boy? He knew what they would tell him. Krycek's happiness was not a factor. Just his safety. And what the hell was he going to do without Alex? He forced himself to get a grip. He had lived most of his life without Alex Krycek as his lover. It was stupid to think he couldn't go on that way again. Sure, if he was honest, he had to say he wanted Alex in his life. But how was that possible, without endangering both their lives? Well, at any rate, they would have two days alone here. Mulder let his thoughts drift into happier realms. "Mulder? Mulder!" "Huh? What?" "What do you want for dinner?" Alex Krycek. Just give me his luscious ass on a plate. And that cock, that mouth, the sounds he makes...did I mention his ass? His hot muscular body, the way he smells...the way he looks at me with those eyes...I did say his ass, didn't I? "Mulder?" And then for dessert...Alex Krycek. Dipped in chocolate, with whipped cream on top. "Um...I don't know...heat up a frozen pizza or something..." Scully laid down her pen, rubbing her arms. "It's getting a little chilly. I'm going to put on a sweater." Mulder shook himself. "I'll build a fire." While Scully was in the bedroom he took the blanket from the couch and laid it over Alex. He wished they were alone. He had an overwhelming urge to crawl into the bed with Alex, snuggle under the covers together and awaken Alex slowly by doing something unspeakably pleasurable to his body. Alex was a very light sleeper; the least little thing would cause him instantly to open his eyes and pull back against the wall, surveying his surroundings warily. Just once Mulder would like to see him wake up gradually like a normal person, yawning and stretching and rolling around in bed. He built a fire with the last of the logs on the hearth, and headed out to bring in some more firewood. Liking the feel of the cool night air on his face, the wind coming up that probably meant rain, he took his time hunting for sticks and twigs to use as kindling. When he returned Alex was sitting, gazing into the fire, a totally unguarded, peaceful look on his face. He had one foot drawn up, his arm resting on it. A surge of affection hit Mulder, and he reached out as he passed by, unthinking, to rub the back of Alex's neck. He felt Alex's startled response at the same time as his brain registered Scully's presence in the room, staring at him. In an instant, Alex was on his feet, his expression wary and flustered. "What—what are you—?" Mulder tamped down his swirling emotions, tried to make his voice as bland as possible. "Just checking for any strange bumps, Krycek. Don't be so jumpy." Alex's eyes widened fractionally and his hand went to his neck in an automatic gesture. Mulder tossed the wood down on the hearth, cursing inwardly. He felt angry at everything: that he had to lie to Scully like this; that he had been so stupid as to let that slip; that Alex, who had looked so uncharacteristically relaxed and at peace a moment ago, was now standing by the fire with his habitual closed-off, hypervigilant expression, doubly spooked by Mulder's mention of the alien bumps. Mulder looked at him, trying to convey, "I'm sorry," with his eyes. Alex gazed at him for a moment, a strange expression flickering across his face. Then he relaxed fractionally, giving Mulder a fleeting, tiny smile. Awareness passed between them, a swift-running current that Mulder could no more fight than he could change the past. He could not stop looking at Alex over dinner, and he felt Alex watching him too. It was not like the first few days, when the sexual tension was heavy in the air. He did not know what this was, could not explain it. He wanted to touch Alex, not necessarily fuck him again—although he certainly wouldn't say no to that—but just reach across the table and touch him. He was fascinated by the play of firelight across Alex's face, and everything Alex said seemed immensely memorable and thrilling, although Alex wasn't saying much beyond, "Pass the garlic." The rain came after dinner. Mulder sat listening to it fall, feeling almost in a trance, as Scully watched something on TV and Alex sat on the cot with his back against the wall, reading "Steppenwolf." The news ended and Scully headed off to bed. Mulder turned off the TV and dimmed the lights. He came to stand by the cot, leaning on the wall. To his surprise, Alex moved over on the cot, clearly making room for him to sit. Another first. Mulder sat down on the cot, his back against the wall like Alex, keeping a little distance between them. Alex slid over to close the gap, surprising Mulder again. It was dark, the fire fading to coals now, crackling embers and the patter of the rain mingling with their quiet voices in the night. "Too bad it's raining." "Yeah." Small laugh. "I'm still high from before." "Me too." Smile. "Though I could go again." "Oh yeah." They watched the fire for a few moments. Alex shifted slightly and gave a tiny grunt. Mulder laid his hand on Alex's knee, palming it like a basketball. "How're you doing? Sore?" "I'm okay," Alex said huskily. "I know you're still injured—I didn't mean to be so—" "Fuck that," Alex laughed softly. Mulder could not catch his breath for a moment. Each impression—Alex's laugh, the dusky sweep of his lashes as he looked down, the gold circle of his earring—exploded inside Mulder like fireworks on a summer night. "Wish I could sleep with you." Alex slid a glance over at him, his eyebrows flicking up. "No—literally. Like, lay down in bed together and spend the night." All night together: his arm wrapped around Alex, his face nestled into Alex's hair, his cock pressed up against that luscious ass... "I don't...sleep well with others," Alex said quietly. Yeah, you don't do a lot of things, Alexei—get fucked, get teased, cuddle, nap, share your space. But you did them with me today. They kissed, warm and slow. Mulder leaned his forehead against Alex's. He had the strange and amazing thought that he had never felt so close to anyone in his life than he did at that moment with Alex. "This is as good as it gets, Mulder," Alex said, a hint of laughter in his husky voice. Mulder rubbed his cheek against Alex's hair. "This is good." From a deep sleep, Mulder was awakened by something—a tiny sound, a breath—that told him someone was nearby. Reflexively, his eyes shot open and he tensed. He was stunned to see Alex kneeling by his bed, gazing at him in silence. Confused, he started to speak, but stopped himself, caught by the look in Alex's eyes, a deep and helpless desire. Mulder reached out and laid his hand against the side of Alex's face. Alex leaned into the caress. He moved closer, pressing his face into Mulder's crotch and running his hand along Mulder's thigh. The blood was pounding in Mulder's groin. Lifting his hips, he rolled his boxers down. The night air felt cool against his skin but he knew Alex's mouth would be so very warm. Alex began to suck him. There was none of the teasing and sensuality of the other times. Alex came to him as a man stranded in the desert comes to an oasis. His mouth was thirsty and desperate. Mulder reached out and took hold of the back of Alex's head, pushing his fingers firmly through the short silky hair. Alex stiffened slightly but he did not object or push Mulder away, letting Mulder guide his head and almost roughly fuck his face. Mulder came very quickly, feeling almost as though it was out of his hands. "So...bedside service, eh?" He forced a light tone. "Will you do anything I ask?" Alex did not lift his head, but he turned his face slightly to look at Mulder. His voice was a whisper, full of emotion. "Yes..." Mulder felt the waters closing over his head and he was lost. Unable to speak, he stroked Alex's hair. His own throat felt tight and his breathing was shaky. He stared upwards into the dark, desperately trying to bring himself under control. No, Alex, don't do this, don't give yourself to me like this. I could hurt you... He was startled by that thought. And you could hurt me, you could destroy me with this. If all this—if any of this—is an act, you would be ripping out everything I have inside. Mulder ran his hand over Alex's shoulder, down to the small of his back. Alex's skin felt warm and smooth. Mulder slid his hand around to the front. He could feel, even through the fabric of the cut-off sweats, how intensely aroused Alex was. When Mulder touched him he gave a small choked moan, then no sound at all save for his harsh rapid breathing He wondered if Alex really would do anything he asked. What if he said now, "Alex, get up, go back to your own bed and stay there. Don't speak, don't touch yourself, just do it." Would Alex simply obey? He was both unsettled and titillated by the thought. But he knew he wouldn't do that. He didn't want Alex to go. He wanted to touch him, hold him, give him that release. Impulsively, he wrapped his arm around Alex, pulling him over a little closer. He buried his face in the curve of Alex's neck, inhaling the dark, toasty scent of Alex fresh from sleep. Alex's breathing speeded up and he shivered as Mulder began to stroke him. "Hard," Alex breathed, then, "please," he whispered. Mulder complied. Alex kept his head bowed against Mulder's hip, his hand gripping Mulder's thigh so hard Mulder knew there would be marks the next day. Tiny sounds squeezed out from between Alex's clenched teeth. It only took a few minutes before Mulder felt him go rigid, then shudder violently. Still he made no sound except for a single choked cry, and loud, ragged breathing. Alex stayed as he was for several minutes, his head down against Mulder's leg. Mulder twined his fingers through the soft damp hair. Alex rose from the floor. He headed for the bathroom and returned a few minutes later with a warm, wet cloth. Silently, he cleaned Mulder up, then went to the cot and lay down, sprawled out in the dim light with his arm across his eyes. Mulder lay awake for hours, watching the last faint embers of the fire. He felt shaken, overcome by the emotions of the night. Here and there does not matter We must be still and still moving Into another intensity For a further union, a deeper communion Through the dark cold and the empty desolation, In my end is my beginning. —T. S. Eliot Mulder awoke with a headache. He was grateful that neither of his roommates seemed to be around. Soaping himself up under the last vestiges of hot water, he was conscious of both a crazy need to see Alex, and a strong wish to be alone for a while. The events of yesterday—Alex's actions, his own inexplicable reactions—made him feel suffocated, even panicked. Scully would be leaving that afternoon, and he and Alex would be alone for three days. He felt both aroused and uneasy at that thought. Quickly, he dressed, pulling on his running shorts. He had to get out of the cabin. Maybe he would go see Tomasina again. He was sick of babysitting Krycek, the green eyes that bored into him every way he turned. He needed some time to himself. Scully was sitting at the table when he emerged, but thankfully Alex was still out on the screened porch. She looked distinctly put out when he announced he was going running. "Alone? You're not taking Krycek?" "I, um, thought I'd let him get some rest today." "Why?" Scully's tone sharpened. "Has he been having more symptoms?" Mulder rubbed his head in frustration. "No, I just—" The porch door opened and Alex stepped into the room. He took in Mulder's attire in silence, his eyes unreadable. "I won't be long," Mulder said lamely. He started to head out the door. "Mulder." Alex halted him, his voice low and insistent. "If I don't go out with you, I don't get to leave this damn cabin at all." Fuck. "All right, get ready. I'll wait for you outside." He didn't really want to wait while Alex got his shoes tied, or have to slow his pace so Alex could keep up. On the front porch, he ran through his stretches, looking up at the sky. Turning, he was startled to see Alex leaning in the doorway, watching him. Mulder swung his arms back and forth. "Go ahead and get warmed up." Alex came slowly out to stand by the cabin rail, stretching. "You can take off if you want to." Mulder grimaced impatiently. "I can't leave you." "I'm armed. You should be, too." "Christ, Alex. It's just a run." Despite his words to Alex, he set a brisk pace, not looking back. The ground felt spongy from the previous night's rain, and a few drops sprinkled down from the trees overhead. He spotted a spiderweb festooned with glittering droplets, and turned to point it out to Alex, but Alex was about fifty yards behind him, walking rather than running, looking around warily as though casing the area. What a nature lover. Mulder resumed his swift jog. On impulse, he cut left, heading in the direction of the old church, although he knew Alex was probably heading for the clearing where they usually went. When he looked back a few moments later Alex was nowhere to be seen. A sudden crack! shattered the peace: the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. Mulder spun wildly, trying to see what direction it had come from. Where the hell was Alex? Oh shit, he should never have taken off and left him alone like that. And then he heard the pounding of footsteps, and Alex came hurtling out of the woods, his gun drawn, charging right at Mulder, knocking Mulder to the ground and holding him in place. Mulder struggled, the wind knocked out of him momentarily. Alex crouched over him, his knee in the small of Mulder's back and his prosthetic hand pressed to the back of Mulder's neck. It was a setup. Alex was the shooter. He's going to kill me now. He was stunned to realize the depths of this betrayal. For a moment he could not breathe, not so much from the physical impact as from the emotional shock of this, after everything. Twisting, he managed to turn his head enough to look up at Krycek. Alex had his gun raised, not pointed at Mulder. He was scanning the trees intently. "Krycek! What the fuck are you doing? Let me up!" "Ssshhh!" Krycek hissed. He was tense, trembling slightly. Slowly, he moved off Mulder, but kept his hand pressed against Mulder's shoulder, holding him down. Mulder shook him off, sitting up. "Just hunters, maybe," Alex whispered. "Sounded like a rifle." "What the hell were you doing? What were you running from? And why did you sit on me like that?" Alex stared at him furiously. "Because you're not armed and you're standing there staring around like a moron! Why don't you just paint a fucking target on your head?" He was protecting me? Running to, not from. He could have gotten shot. Mulder got to his feet cautiously, and Alex followed suit, still surveying the area in that hypervigilant way. Mulder brushed dirt off his shirt. "Shit, Alex, you made yourself a running target! Next time you hear shots, just get down on the ground. I can take care of myself." Intensity blazed in Alex's eyes, and he spoke in a low whisper. "Next time you bring your gun, asshole! This isn't a damn camping trip, Mulder. If I tell you to carry a weapon, do it. And keep your goddamn voice down." Krycek ordering him around snapped the last of Mulder's frayed nerves. He spun around and slammed Alex backward into the nearest tree. "Listen, Krycek—" Alex shoved him off, equally hard. "Get the hell away from me, Mulder! I have people trying to kill me. I don't have time to worry about your fucking anger management problems." He was shaking, his eyes wide. He's scared, really terrified. Mulder looked him over. "You really do think they're going to kill you, don't you? You really believe you're going to die soon." "It's a definite possibility," Alex said in that hoarse whisper. "That might not worry you, but—" "Why wouldn't it worry me, Alex?" Alex's face twisted. He pulled his arm away from Mulder and began walking off quickly through the trees, his head up, his gun still drawn and at the ready. Mulder was used to danger, had had enough close calls so that paranoia was as much a part of his life as brushing his teeth. But he was realizing now that Alex truly did believe that his days were numbered, that he would inexorably be hunted down, and soon, by the people he had turned against. So you throw him against a tree. Yeah, that's helpful and reassuring. Alex had only gone about fifty feet when he stopped and turned to look at Mulder. Seeing Mulder still standing where he had left him, he jerked his head impatiently in the direction of the cabin. Mulder followed slowly. His earlier irritation with Alex had dissipated, and he felt somewhat shell-shocked. Scully looked up sharply as Mulder came in. "Is everything all right between you and Krycek?" "We heard a gunshot in the woods. Probably just hunters." Mulder made a sandwich for Alex, got a soda and went out on the back porch. Alex was sitting in his usual place, holding his gun in his left hand, the prosthetic one. It looked like he was trying to learn to fire the gun with it. "Practicing to shoot with your left hand?" "Trying to." Alex sounded defensive, ready to fight. "Hope that thing's not loaded." Alex bared his teeth in annoyance. "Not at the moment." Mulder came closer and set the sandwich and soda down on the table. "Made you a sandwich." A corner of Alex's mouth quirked upward. He lifted the can of soda, popped the top, and drank half of it down thirstily. He looked at the sandwich, then back up at Mulder, then unexpectedly started to laugh. Mulder stared at him. "I have an anger management problem? You need Prozac." Alex choked a little, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You just can't ever admit you were wrong and say you're sorry, can you Mulder?" Mulder shrugged. "I thought I'd let you piece it together from subtle clues, give you something to do on these long afternoons." As Alex ate his sandwich, Mulder hunted for the pump filter schematic for the hot tub in the piles of papers and books inside the wicker table. It didn't turn up, but he did find a user's manual that might prove helpful, although it seemed to be translated from the Japanese by someone whose third or fourth language was English. He settled in a chair with his feet on the covered hot tub, and began to make his way laboriously through it. Alex finished the sandwich and took up the gun again. Mulder looked over at him curiously. "Knowing you, Alex, I would've thought learning to shoot a gun would be the first thing you'd do." "I can shoot a gun with it," Alex said. "I can't—react and shoot back with it while I'm shooting with my right." Mulder raised an eyebrow. Alex tipped his chair back, twirling the gun idly with his right hand. He sighed in exasperation. "If someone shoots at you, you don't think, your body just reacts. But this—" he touched the prosthetic arm "—isn't part of my body and I have to think about what I'm doing when I use it. I can't react with my right hand and be thinking about the left at the same time. It throws me off too much. I want to be able to just shoot with it, just react, if I need to." Mulder was tempted to make a crack about Alex and his Bionic Arm, but having seen the extent of Alex's very real fear, he just nodded and went back to reading up on ring valves. Alex resumed his practice with the gun. He seemed to be getting a little frustrated; Mulder could hear it in his quick intakes of breath and muttered curses. Mulder gazed out through the screen. A pair of blackbirds were circling and darting through the trees, their wings iridescent in the sun. For a moment he forgot everything else and just watched, captivated. I should fill up that bird feeder for them. He wondered if this was what normal life felt like. Just puttering around, fixing the hot tub, feeding the birds. His entire life had narrowed with a white-hot intensity to his search for the Truth, as if by understanding he could find that one puzzle piece that would make him whole again. He had forgotten that all around him everyday people were living their everyday lives, doing fix-it projects on the house, sitting on the porch watching wildlife. Here, in this enforced idyll, he was finally getting a taste of what normal might be like. As normal as it could be with my one-armed lover over there trying to become a two-fisted gunfighter. He chuckled and returned to the manual, pondering a sentence that read: "Removing power before perform this procodure, Can lead shocking and/or elocution!" Alex missed his grab and the gun clattered to the floor. "Fuck," he snarled under his breath. Still perusing the pump manual, Mulder glanced up at him. "You'll get it," he told Alex. His tone was affectionate, casually confident; he had no doubt Alex could do anything he set his mind to. He was unprepared for the reaction he got, Alex's face tightening as he looked away suddenly. Mulder regarded him a moment longer as Alex sat with his head turned, drawing in a couple of deep breaths. After a few minutes, Alex picked up the gun again. He seemed calmer now, with a new resolve. Slowly, he began to run through the individual motions needed: picking up the gun, getting his finger on the trigger, releasing the safety, pressing the trigger. Mulder observed him with fascination. He was seeing the gradual, painstaking process by which Alex had relearned all the little tasks a person with two hands took for granted. He recalled his earlier impatience with Alex's tying his shoes. How many frustrating hours of practice must it have taken to learn to do that? Alex glanced up and caught him watching. He looked at Mulder questioningly. Mulder got up. He was taking a chance, he knew, but he had to touch Alex. Walking over to Alex, he slipped an arm around Alex's neck, embracing him from behind, then leaned down to nibble and suck on his earlobe. He felt Alex shiver and tasted the metal of the tiny gold earring. Alex shot a glance at the doorway, making sure Scully wasn't there, then leaned back into Mulder's embrace. His eyes searched out Mulder's with a little inquiring smile. "Just missed our...fun," Mulder whispered. "Goddamn hunters." Alex laughed. "Fox Mulder, FBI. Get the hell out of these woods so I can screw my—" Mulder waited, curious as to what he was to Alex. Lover? Friend? Fucktoy? "—brains out." Alex disengaged gently, with a pointed look at the doorway. Mulder leaned down to kiss him and then bite him lightly on the back of the neck, before reluctantly returning to his seat by the hot tub. Alex leaned back in his chair, gazing over at Mulder. "What're you doing?" Mulder held up the book. "Pump manual." "That sounds dirty," Alex purred smokily. "Pump...manual." "Yeah, the way you say it. Doing my taxes could sound dirty the way you say it." Alex grinned at him, spread his legs sluttishly, and arched up to stretch. "You better watch it, or I'll come over there again, and this time you won't get off without a mark." Alex was all wide-eyed innocence. "Scully." "I think she's actually on the phone with her boyfriend." Saying the words no longer bothered him. "Maybe they're having phone sex," Alex suggested. "Don't take it there, Krycek." Mulder's voice held a warning, sharper than he had intended. Alex stared at him for a long moment, a strange expression playing over his face. When he spoke his voice was low, a bit huskier than usual. "Are you in love with Scully?" "What? No, of course not. I'm—" I'm in love with you, Alex. No. No he wasn't. This wasn't love, or anything of the sort, it was purely physical, a creative sublimation of the need to fight each other, a culmination of years of mindless attraction and lust, a way to get it out of his system. Sure, he cared about Alex, but it was the way he would care about any fellow human being, not to mention that it was his job to protect Alex's life. "I love her, probably more than anyone else in my life. I respect her more than anyone I've ever met. But I'm not—the one for her." "Did you want to be?" Alex's voice was quiet. He pointed the gun at the screen, not looking at Mulder. "Maybe at one time.... No, not really. We don't—click—in that way." He recalled Scully smiling at him at dinner that day: "Someday you'll find someone, Mulder, and you'll understand. Someone who'll really knock you out of your orbit." Alex Krycek? No, no, no. "We're close friends. She's my partner. And I think she deserves a little respect, that's all." Alex nodded in apology. Mulder thought he saw relief in the green eyes for a second, but he couldn't be sure. "What about you, Alex?" "Me?" Alex looked startled and cornered. "Yeah, you. Why don't you like her?" Again Alex seemed relieved. Mulder wondered what Alex had thought he was going to ask. "It's not that I don't like her. I like her, I just—" The object of their discussion appeared in the doorway, smiling to herself. "Mulder...I'll be ready to leave in about half an hour." As Scully went back inside, Mulder grinned at Alex. "So, you gonna cook us up something good for dinner tonight?" "Sure." Alex looked pleased. "Whaddaya like?" "Can you make," Mulder tried to think of something Russian, "hmm, pirogies?" "Pirogies?" Alex looked incredulous. "What do you think I am, Mulder? The fucking Cooking Channel?" "You could be the Naked Chef." Mulder winked at him. "Okay, how about...swordfish with puree of violet lentils and—" Alex huffed out a breath. "Look. I can grill a steak, I can make spaghetti, or chili..." Moving closer, Mulder rested his foot on the edge of the settee. He bent to fiddle with his shoelace, then turned his head to lick Alex's ear. Alex darted a quick glance toward the door. Seeing that Scully was not around, he ran his hand up Mulder's pants leg. They smiled at each other in anticipation. Mulder felt a powerful thrum of arousal go through him. A sound from inside made them pull apart. Mulder stepped back. He tossed a pad and pen over to Alex. "Chili's good. Make a list of what you need." "Just so you know, I don't use beans. I hate beans." "Well, good. That'll save me from having to come up with a bunch of Blazing Saddles jokes." Scully poked her head out again. "Mulder, could I—" She beckoned him inside with a little jerk of her head. Mulder followed. In the cabin, she looked up at him. "Mulder, tell me the truth...are you and Krycek going to be all right here alone together?" Mulder felt the slow, simmering excitement rising in him. "Oh yeah. Yeah, I'm sure we will." "How's his health—as far as you know?" A chilly cloud brushed over Mulder for a moment. He shook it off, feeling a stab of determined anger. "Fine." She lifted a pile of the printouts, loading them into her bag. "I'm still trying to understand all of this." Oh, if you only knew. "Me too," Mulder said. Scully went into the bedroom to finish packing, and Mulder returned to the screened porch. Alex handed him the pad with a little smirk. "Here." Mulder looked at the list. Everything was written out carefully in Alex's neat block printing. A little too carefully maybe. Mulder read: "CILANTRO (AN HERB—IN PRODUCE SECT.)" "In the produce section? You're a wiseass, huh, Krycek?" Alex smirked. "Sorry." He took the list from Mulder, scribbled something and handed it back. Mulder looked at it. Alex had crossed out "PRODUCE" and written in "FRUITS AND VEGETABLES." Mulder wandered through the aisles of the mammoth suburban supermarket in a product-induced daze. The place was roughly equivalent in square feet to the entire Hoover building, and about as easy to navigate. Although he had mocked Alex's compulsively organized list, he was grateful for it now. Without it he probably would have been lost in there until Scully returned and organized a search party. The drive to the train station and parting with Scully had been all about the subtext, Mulder thought, both of them almost giddy with the anticipation of a few days with their lovers, yet outwardly trying to maintain an aura of cool professional concern. In a dairy section so huge he suspected there was a herd of Holsteins concealed in back, he spotted a large display card titled, "Household Hints from Deb." The card read, in bright red letters, "Deb Says: Everything Goes Better With Whipped Cream!" Under that, in flowery script, were the words, "Try some on your lover's balls." Intrigued, Mulder walked over to the display, which featured a woman who looked like a perky dominatrix brandishing a can of Reddi-Wip. Now that he was nearer, he could see that it actually said, "Try some on our lemon bars." He pulled out his cell phone to call Alex, because it was taking longer than he expected, and because he liked the idea that he had a lover waiting for him. Alex answered his phone without speaking, waiting to see who was on the other end. "Hey, it's me." Mulder spoke quickly to reassure him. "Hey." "I've got a little more shopping to do. I'll be back in about an hour." He was struck by how normal it all sounded. "Did you find everything on the list?" "List? I need a damn road map to navigate this place. It's bigger than God's ass." Two women standing nearby in American flag t-shirts looked at Mulder askance. "Seriously, they've got everything—tires, live bait, shrunken human heads..." Alex laughed at that. The two women moved off, looking distinctly affronted. Belatedly, Mulder realized he wasn't doing a very good job at not calling attention to himself. "See you soon." "I'll be waiting." Alex's voice turned low and enticing, causing a definite physical reaction in Mulder. Trying to look nonchalant, he dropped a canister of whipped cream in the cart and strolled on. He drove back as fast as he could without actually speeding. He felt aflame with desire, barely able to sit still in the seat. Coming in, he was careful to turn off the alarm, not wanting to spook Alex and spoil the mood. His hand was nearly shaking as he unlocked the door. Alex was standing by the window. Mulder let his packages drop to the floor. They looked at each other across the room. Neither of them spoke or moved for a few seconds. Alex's eyes were nearly glowing. "I, ah, changed the sheets on the bed." "You changed—whoa." Until that moment the possibility of taking over the bed for themselves had not even occurred to Mulder. Moving more quickly than Mulder had ever seen him, Alex crossed the room, seized Mulder's hand and dragged him into the bedroom. He shoved Mulder down onto the bed. Laughing, Mulder grabbed him, pulling him down as well. Alex fell onto Mulder's chest. He was laughing too, somewhat breathlessly. Mulder reached for Alex's shirt, practically tearing the buttons off. Alex swung his leg over Mulder's hips, straddling him. With equal urgency, he began tugging Mulder's shirt up over his head. Mulder pulled him down for a kiss, feeling Alex's hard-on press against his belly. "I'm gonna make you come over and over again," Mulder told him. "I'm gonna make you scream." "We'll see who screams," Alex promised him. It was the kind of sweaty, voracious, no-holds-barred sex that Mulder hadn't had since adolescence, the two of them rolling around on the bed, gasping and grinning. Alex was never exactly quiet or shy, but Mulder had never seen him this noisy or aggressive before. "Beg me," Alex purred. "Beg this, baby." Alex's mouth on him, that hot little tongue. "Beg me." Mulder begged him. How had he ever lived this long without Alex in his bed? He couldn't get enough of him. Passion sated for the moment, they lay sprawled on the bed. "Hey," Mulder suddenly recalled, "I've got groceries. Including—oh, hell—ice cream." "Ice cream?" Alex roused himself. "What flavor?" "Godiva chocolate," Mulder informed him. Alex bounded off the bed and began hunting for his clothes. Mulder grinned at him. "You don't have to get dressed." "I do if I'm going to cook. Hot stoves and naked skin don't go well together." Alex started pulling on his briefs. "Oh, hey!" Mulder suddenly remembered. "Brought you something—wait a sec." He hunted through the bags until he found the one he was looking for. Returning to the bedroom, he tossed it to Alex. Somewhat hesitantly, Alex opened the bag. He looked both amused and a bit rattled by Mulder's gift of black underwear. A light flush spread across his cheekbones. Mulder smirked, to hide the self-consciousness he was feeling. "Not your brand? Well, they don't carry Versace in Wal-Mart, sugarcube." Alex appeared speechless. "I...ah, yeah..." Mulder wanted to say, "Try them on," but he felt constrained, for once in his life. He decided he might as well go the whole distance, and handed Alex the other bag. "And this." Alex appeared almost afraid to open it. Finally he peeked in, apprehension giving way to excitement when he saw the large chef's knife inside. He took out the knife and balanced it in his hand. "What—I, ah—this is a pretty good knife." He looked at Mulder with a little smirk. "You put this on the expense account?" Actually Mulder had not. While he thought nothing of billing the Bureau for a trip to Russia or Japan to investigate a case, he didn't really think buying presents for his lover was a legitimate expense. But Alex looked so gleeful at the thought that Mulder did not disillusion him. Mulder donned his boxers and clipped his cell phone on, since Scully had said she'd call when she got to D. C. Alex looked at the prosthetic arm, seemingly deciding whether or not to put it back on, then shrugged and simply pulled a t-shirt over his head. He still seemed a bit thrown by the idea of Mulder bringing him gifts. It was probably an unaccustomed experience for both of them, Mulder reflected; it had felt a bit awkward, but on the whole he didn't think it had been a mistake. "I got all the necessary food groups," Mulder said as they put the groceries away. "Ice cream, sunflower seeds, potato chips...and a case of beer." "You shouldn't eat so much junk food, " Alex commented, ripping open the bag of chips. "It's gotta be bad for you." "Yeah, that's why you're stuffing your face with them." "Just removing temptation from you, Mulder." "First he's willing to take a bullet for me, now he'll eat the bad foods to save my arteries. My baby's so altruistic." Alex choked on a large mouthful of potato chips. "I'm not your baby, Mulder." "Not the friendliest little crayon in the box, either." "You better be nice to me, if you want me to make you dinner and let you fuck me tonight." "I'm nicer to you than anyone's ever been, Krycek, and don't you forget it." Something flickered in Alex's expression, and Mulder saw that his last remark had gone a little too far. Whether it was because it was too true, or too patently untrue, Mulder wasn't sure, but it had clearly struck a nerve in Alex. Mulder could see him debating whether to respond in kind. He wondered what he could do to placate Alex, bring the mood back. Alex stalked into the kitchen. He began setting out the ingredients he needed: onions, jalapenos, tomatoes, meat. "Can I help you make dinner?" "No." "Well, can I just sit and watch in an adoring and awestruck manner, cooing bits of helpful advice and licking your sweat from the knife blades?" Alex snorted with laughter at that. He got out the chili powder and oregano. Mulder opened a couple of beers and sat at the counter watching Alex chop vegetables. Now he understood why it was important for Alex to have a large knife. He used the weight of the knife for leverage and to move the vegetables where he wanted them. Mulder leaned back on the stool, sipping his beer. "How did you learn to cook?" "Well, I could always cook, Mulder, from when I was young. I had to eat." Alex gave him a puzzled glance. "You never learned to cook at all?" Mulder shook his head. "My mother wouldn't let me in the kitchen." Alex's expression was a little wistful. "She's a good cook?" "She's a terrible cook. She thinks pepper is an exotic spice." Mulder took a long drink of beer. "She hated to cook, but she thought it was her duty. She made all these meals, always totally bland and balanced. Boiled meat, boiled potatoes, boiled vegetables. Now that—now that she's alone, she lives on Diet Coke and vanilla wafers." Mulder sighed and turned his head. Through the window, he could see the trees being whipped about outside by a fierce wind. He felt the familiar weight of his mother's unhappiness settle on him. Rationally, of course, he knew it was not his responsibility to ease her pain. But rationality dissolved in the face of the terrible guilt lodged in his heart. He turned back. Alex had lit the stove and was shaking cumin and oregano into the pot. The fragrance of browning spices filled the kitchen. "Don't tell me you cooked like this as a kid," Mulder said. "I could barely make a peanut butter sandwich." Alex shook his head. "After I lost my arm, when I was learning to use the artificial one." His voice was low, carefully casual. "They gave me stuff to do, occupational therapy. Sorting little pieces of plastic crap—y'know—boring, useless—" He whacked the flat of the knife down hard on several cloves of garlic. "I had no patience for that." He began removing the papery skins from the garlic cloves. "So you used it for cooking instead." "Yeah. You need to use your hands a lot, plus—" Alex gave him a quick grin, "—you get a good meal out of it. And I always liked cooking." Mulder recalled how Alex seemed calmer in the kitchen. "It relaxes you." "Yeah. I needed something to take my mind off—" Alex drew a deep breath. "I would get so fucking angry sometimes. I wanted to just—" Kill somebody, Mulder finished silently. Once again he felt the ghosts around them, the pervasive shadow of all that was not being said. He shook it away. That was the past. Here and now was the smell of fresh garlic, the feel of Alex's body against his, and Alex telling him this, letting him in. He reached out and thumped Alex's arm lightly with his fist. "I know." Intense feeling filled Alex's eyes, and he turned away quickly, stirring the pot. After a few minutes he turned back, holding out a knife and the bunch of cilantro to Mulder. "Here...want to cut this up?" Mulder took the knife and began hacking at the cilantro. Alex watched him for a few seconds, looking amused, then resumed chopping garlic. Mulder tried to keep his voice unconcerned. "So, you cook for all your lovers?" Alex grimaced. "I don't really have lovers, Mulder, especially since—" He scooped the chopped garlic up with the blade of the knife and dumped it into the pot. Alex, you just keep unfolding like a flower. While Alex browned meat, Mulder opened the cans of tomatoes. He noted that it would be completely impossible to do that with one hand, and wondered how Alex had done it, when he didn't have the use of the prosthesis. Alex caught his look and smirked. "Electric can opener, that's what we need. Before I got one, I held them between my knees and used a knife." "And here I thought you carried that switchblade to cause bodily harm." "'Course not." Alex gave him an innocent look. "Culinary purposes only." He lifted the salt, trying to maneuver it so that he could both hold it and shake some into his hand. A small frown creased his face at finding this impossible. He flicked the salt open and started to shake it into the pot. Mulder set his beer down. "Alex." Alex turned. Mulder reached to take the salt from him, took Alex's hand in his and poured salt into the palm. Alex touched the salt with his thumb in a reflexive gesture, then rubbed his fingers over it, one by one. He glanced up to meet Mulder's eyes. Mulder saw that understanding again. Somehow he had known Alex wanted this small thing, missed it, and Alex was letting him give it, was thanking him for it. "That enough?" "Little more...that's good." Alex shook the salt into the pot, rubbing his thumb across the palm again. Steam from the pot and sweat had dampened his hair at the edges. He reached for the bar of dark chocolate on the counter. Seeing chocolate on the list, Mulder had thought Alex wanted it for dessert, but now Alex broke off a square and dropped it into the pot. "Chocolate, Alex?" Alex flashed him a grin. "It's my secret ingredient." While the chili cooked, they sat outside on the porch. The sky had turned dark, and the winds were raging, buffeting the cabin so hard Mulder thought he could almost feel it rocking. "Storm's coming up." Mulder could feel the air almost crackling. "I used to love storms when I was a kid." "You would," Alex said. Mulder was surprised by the expression on his face, thoughtful and affectionate. Mulder leaned back, resting his head against Alex's shoulder. He felt, as usual, Alex's little startled quiver; then Alex sighed deeply. The rain began to fall, hard torrents of it. "Sure does rain a lot here." "Ayup." Mulder affected the accent of an old New England farmer. "Good for the corn crops, boy." "And the apple trees," Alex said softly. Mulder squeezed his knee. They sat for a while in contented silence, drinking beer and watching the rain come down. The cell phone rang, making them both jump a little. Scully. He felt Alex stir, expecting him to get up and go into the other room to take the call. Deliberately, he stayed where he was, leaning against Alex. Scully sounded happy to be back in D. C. She reminded him to check in with the office every day. "Yeah, yeah, I'll call Skinner." Mulder made a jerking-off motion, prompting a snicker from Alex. "Are you going to see the Gunmen?" "I'll go over there tomorrow and see if they were able to recover anything else." "Great. Oh, don't forget to stop by and feed my fish." He said goodbye to Scully and closed the phone. "Scully has a key to your apartment?" Alex's voice was overly casual. "For emergencies. And the fish." There was a short silence. Alex sipped his beer. "I don't need to give you a key," Mulder said. "You get in whenever you want, anyway." "Just twice, Mulder. When it was necessary." Mulder felt the slight uneasiness under the words, for both of them. But he did not lift his head, and Alex did not pull away. "I like your apartment," Alex said softly. Mulder shrugged. "It's a place to sleep." Alex stared off through the screen. "No, mine was a place to sleep. Yours fits you. Everything is so—Mulder." He grinned. "Except for that waterbed. I couldn't believe that." Mulder started to ask him where he had lived, and what his apartment had been like, but Alex went on. "Tell me the truth. You really never had sex with anyone on that bed?" "No, I never did." Mulder stroked his hand along Alex's thigh. "You'll be the first." He heard the little hitch in Alex's breathing at his words. It was a promise, and they both knew it. Part of his mind backpedaled furiously, telling himself that Alex would soon be vanishing into the witness protection program anyway. But that part was overridden by the strong sense of rightness he felt at the thought of taking Alex into his bed. Not to mention that the appeal of having a mirrored ceiling was suddenly becoming vividly clear to him. Alex rubbed his chin against Mulder's hair. They sat for a few minutes in silence. "I should check that chili, make sure it's not burning," Alex said quietly. "I got dessert," Mulder said. They had eaten three bowls each of Alex's excellent chili and were lounging at the table, pleasantly buzzed from the food and beer and sex. Mulder pulled the ice cream and whipped cream from the refrigerator. "But it must be eaten on the bed." Alex cocked his head. "Why on the bed?" Mulder grinned. He squirted some whipped cream onto his fingers and held them out. Alex greedily licked it off. Mulder bent down, putting his tongue out to remove a smudge from the corner of Alex's mouth. "Because I plan on eating it off your body," he told Alex. In the bedroom, Alex obediently stripped and lay on the bed. Mulder fed him a couple of spoonfuls of ice cream. Slowly and deliberately, he shook up the canister of whipped cream, noticing how Alex's eyes widened and his back arched in anticipation. He brought the nozzle of the whipped cream down to Alex's nipple. Alex's breathing quickened. He was looking intently at Mulder's hand. Mulder flicked the tip against Alex's hardening nipples a couple of times, then depressed the nozzle. A rosette of whipped cream bloomed out. Alex gave a small breathy chuckle. Mulder bent his head to Alex's chest, trailing the tip of his tongue through the whipped cream. Alex bit his lip, gazing up at Mulder. Mulder was surprised at Alex's restraint. Alex wasn't trying to grab Mulder or touch himself; he wasn't even demanding, although he was clearly very aroused. He's letting me tease him! With the painstaking precision of an artist constructing a still life, Mulder festooned Alex's body with whipped cream: twin peaks on his nipples, a line down his belly, and a sizable glob on his balls, as per the supermarket suggestion. "Mulder..." Although Alex still gripped the headboard, making no move to touch Mulder, the tone of his voice suggested that he was reaching his limit. Mulder turned his attention to Alex's nipples once again. Knowing Alex was expecting more teasing, he dove right in instead, sucking hard and biting a little. A deep groan broke from Alex. He appeared ready to levitate off the bed. "Easy, tiger." Mulder reached for the ice cream spoon. Dipping up some of the whipped cream from Alex's belly, he fed it to Alex, along with more ice cream, as Alex settled down a bit. Alex covered Mulder's hand with his own, guiding it to his mouth. Alex looked up at him. "Take...take your clothes off." Mulder grinned. "Beg me." "Please," Alex said huskily. Mulder stood and quickly shucked his boxers. Alex ran his hand down Mulder's thigh, giving him a little smile. Mulder scooped some cream into his palm, wrapping his hand around Alex. Alex closed his eyes and let his head drop back. Mulder loved looking at the expressions on his face, loved hearing the sounds he made. He loved the long strong lines and curves of Alex's thighs and calves and ass. Moving onto the bed once more, he began to pump Alex rhythmically with his hand, lapping eagerly below with his tongue. "Ahh, yeah, that's it!" Alex encouraged him on, becoming very vocal now. Mulder thought the whipped cream would probably work to take it to the next step. He reached for the canister, letting his tongue trail slowly up over Alex's cock. But Alex, apparently thinking more teasing was in store, had had enough. He sat up swiftly, pushing Mulder down onto his back with a knowing glint in his eyes. Mulder did not object. Although he could have gone on licking Alex all night, he did not generally eat a lot of desserts, and he was reaching sugar overload. Alex sprayed a line of cream across Mulder's lips, then bent to lick and suck it off. Their tongues met and mingled with the sweet cream. Mulder slid his fingers up through Alex's hair, wrapping his other arm around Alex's waist. He felt a surge of exhilarated tenderness. He could not remember the last time he had had so much fun with a lover. With a pirate-like grin, Alex lifted the whipped cream again, spraying a creamy gob into Mulder's ear. Mulder yelped, twisting in Alex's hold. Every nerve in his body sprang to attention and he shivered as Alex's tongue pursued it, licking with firm, catlike strokes. Alex continued downward, decorating Mulder's body and lapping it up with gusto. Mulder gripped the sheet at the sensations: the cool, light touch of the whipped cream sliding over his skin, followed by the rougher, hotter feel of Alex's mouth. Unlike Mulder, Alex apparently would have no difficulty ingesting an entire canister of whipped cream. He devoured it, and Mulder, sucking hard and nipping lightly. "I'm going to be black and blue," Mulder complained laughingly. Alex winked at him. "Yeah, better keep your clothes on when Scully's here, or she'll get arachnophobia." He sprayed a sizable dollop into Mulder's bellybutton. "Yum..." Mulder's hard-on was starting to demand more than that. "Hey, what am I, your dessert plate?" "Mmm..." Alex grinned at him. "That gives me an idea." He reached for the container of chocolate ice cream and spooned some up. Instead of eating it, however, he brought it down to Mulder's cock and balls. The sudden intense chill was so shocking that Mulder felt his scalp constrict and thought his heart might actually have stopped for a second. Then he leaped away, letting out what his mind registered was probably a very girly scream. Alex smirked at him, another spoonful of ice cream on its way to his mouth. Mulder grabbed him, forcing his head down. "Lick it off," he ordered. Alex complied, his eager tongue soothing away the cold. Mulder wrestled the spoon from his hand. Ice cream splattered onto the bed. "Dammit, Mulder, I just changed those sheets." "Shhh..." Mulder scooped up some more ice cream and fed it to him. Alex's eyes gleamed in understanding. He bent his head and took Mulder into his mouth. The simultaneous sensations of heat and cold on Mulder's sensitized skin were incredible. He ate a spoonful of ice cream himself and groaned aloud in voluptuous pleasure. Alex reached for the canister of whipped cream, spraying a large dollop directly onto his tongue. He went down on Mulder again, taking Mulder in deeply. It felt like Mulder's cock was sliding into a warm, velvety cave. Alex's tongue nudged against him like a curious dolphin. Mulder groaned again, more loudly, letting pleasure take him over. Setting the spoon down, he took hold of Alex's head with both hands, pulling him up for a kiss. Alex tasted of chocolate and whipped cream and Mulder. "Turn over," Mulder said. Alex made a deep sound in his throat, obeying without question. Whether it was the beer, the whipped cream, or the fact that they were finally alone, he seemed more relaxed and trusting tonight. With Alex lying facedown on the bed, Mulder pulled his hand up over his head, holding it there. Armed with the whipped cream, he sprayed a line along the cleft of Alex's ass. Alex shivered. "Mmmhh..." "Looks like whitewater rapids..." And like a kayaker riding the crest, Mulder's cock glided through the creamy channel. "Oh yeah, this is nice...oh yeah..." Alex moaned, clutching the pillow. Mulder leaned down to bite him on the back of the neck. He picked up the pace, rubbing himself into the silken foam of whipped cream. It was melting, running down over Alex's balls. Mulder stroked the head of his cock over the muscles of Alex's cream-slick ass. Alex looked over his shoulder. "Fuck me already," he urged breathlessly. "Yeah, this stuff works pretty good as lube." Mulder started to spray some more onto his fingers, then had a better idea. Spooning up some of the ice cream, he dribbled it where his cock had been a moment ago. Alex did not seem to notice. Mulder got a larger portion, reached down, and applied it directly to his target. "AAAH!! Fuck!! That's cold!" Alex thrashed madly under him, throwing Mulder off onto the bed and smearing ice cream everywhere. Mulder landed on his back, laughing. "Payback's a bitch, huh?" His glee turned to concern as Alex gripped his side, doubling over. "Hey, Alex, you okay there?" Alex nodded, grimacing. He swore softly under his breath and looked away. Mulder understood that it was not Mulder he was angry at, but his own injuries. He rubbed Alex's back. "Sorry. I should have remembered the warning on that whipped cream—'Not for use by pregnant women and guys with broken ribs.'" Alex gave him a pained smirk. "Any ice cream left?" "It's pretty much all over the bed now, but there might be a tiny bit." Mulder reached for the carton and spoon. Slowly and carefully, he fed Alex the remaining ice cream. Alex licked the spoon clean. Mulder kissed the tip of his nose. "You up for finishing what we started?" Alex gazed around at the sticky mess on the sheets. "I think we better take this into the shower." This late in the day, there was not much warm water left. Stepping under the spray, Alex handed Mulder the soap. Mulder started automatically to scrub down, but Alex stopped him with a gentle touch on his arm. Taking the washcloth, he soaped it up and began to wash Mulder. The look on Alex's face—intent, unguarded, tender—flooded Mulder with something close to pain. He closed his eyes. Alex took his time, stroking the washcloth over Mulder's body as though he were restoring a fine painting. One part of Mulder wanted to pull away, jump out of the shower, and just have mindless sex all night. He forced himself to stand still and enjoy the unusual feeling of being cared for like that. "Turn around," Alex said softly. Somehow it was easier as Alex washed his back, and wholly enjoyable as Alex moved lower. Alex handed the washcloth to Mulder and lifted the shampoo. He began to wash Mulder's hair, firmly massaging away the faint traces of a headache that had begun. Mulder groaned in appreciation. When Alex had finished, Mulder took his turn, rubbing the soap over Alex's body in long strokes. Alex stood very still. Understanding his uneasiness, Mulder did not prolong it, but scrubbed briskly with the cloth, pinching Alex's nipples and hitting all his favorite spots along the way. He turned Alex to wash his back. Alex had a small birthmark under his left shoulder blade. Mulder traced it, entranced by this new discovery. He slid his soapy fingers down to Alex's ass. Alex bent forward, holding onto the towel bar and spreading his legs a little to allow Mulder access. Mulder used his free hand to play with Alex's nipples and caress his cock, feeling it grow hot and hard in his soapy palm. "Oh yeah," Alex panted, "do it!" Mulder reached for the lube. Alex gave a deep cry as Mulder entered him. Mulder clutched the towel bar as well, reaching down with his other hand to stroke Alex's cock. The water, barely lukewarm now, ran down his neck and back as he pumped into the heat of Alex's ass. He licked droplets from Alex's shoulder. Alex's wet hair rubbed against his face as he picked up the tempo. Alex came hard into his hand, heat spilling over his fingers. Mulder braced his arm against the wall, supporting Alex as he collapsed against the towel bar, breathing heavily. With a coyote yell of jubilation, Mulder drove it home. He slid down, bringing Alex with him to sit kneeling on the floor of the tub, still joined. He leaned against Alex's broad back. The cool water washed over them. They rested that way for several minutes, until the water began to get chilly. Drying off, Mulder rubbed Alex's back with the towel. He could not resist teasing Alex a little more. "So how do you dry your back?" Alex gave him a look. "I usually get some hot fibbie to do it for me." Mulder backed him up against the wall. He was leaning in for a kiss when the lights went out, suddenly and shockingly enveloping them in profound darkness. Alex was immediately tense, pushing Mulder away. "Where's my gun?" he barked sharply. Mulder opened and closed his eyes. He could see nothing either way, not even Alex, although they were touching. Feeling his way, he located the door and opened it. The living room was still faintly lit by the embers of the fire, providing enough visibility to navigate the room. "Watch out." Alex gripped his arm. "It could be some kind of trap." The hairs rose on the back of Mulder's neck. He strained his ears, hearing rustling and banging. Wind and rain, he wondered, or someone deliberately cutting the power to ambush them? He forced himself to keep his voice calm. "It's probably just the storm." Cautiously, they made their way into the bedroom. Mulder found he could actually move better with his eyes shut. His visual memory provided a better guide than the dim vestiges of firelight. Feeling more secure with guns and flashlight in hand, they made a thorough inspection of all the rooms. None of the windows or doors appeared to have been tampered with, and the electrical panel looked intact as well. Alex hissed out a long breath in relief. "Storm. Knocked out the wires. They should have a backup generator." "Goddamn primitive living." Back in the living room, Mulder built up the fire. Alex got some large citronella candles from the screened porch and lit them as well. "Want a beer?" Mulder asked. Alex nodded. Mulder went to get a couple of bottles. In the back of the refrigerator he caught sight of the Ziploc bag containing the vaccine apple and the little vial of serum. He hoped the power wouldn't be out very long. They sat, drinking beer, in watchful silence. Now the question became how to pass the time. There was no TV, no computer, and not enough light to read. It was too early, and too much adrenaline had been unleashed, for them to be sleepy. "Shadow animals?" Mulder suggested. Alex gave a short snicker. Mulder pondered some more. "I guess we could play Spin the Bottle. Or Truth or Dare." "Cute." Alex still sounded somewhat on edge. "Actually," Mulder decided to take the plunge, "maybe we should." Alex slid closer. "First dessert toppings...now Spin the Bottle, huh? Well, why not? What's better to do in the dark?" "Whoa there." They had already done it twice tonight, and Mulder wasn't quite ready to go around again. Besides, his mind had pounced on the idea like a cat with a small rodent, and wasn't about to let it go. "I meant telling the truth. Answering all the questions." "Are you nuts?" Alex sounded incredulous. "I don't want to get into any of that shit." Mulder thought for a minute. "Okay—how about this. Just three questions each. Anything at all. You have to answer truthfully, completely, everything. Everything. Then after this we let it go, never speak of it again." "Forget it, Mulder." "C'mon Alex. We need to clear the air. All this shit, the past, it's hanging over our heads every time we touch each other, every damn conversation we have..." He laid a hand on Alex's leg, feeling the tension in Alex's body. "Let's just get it out into the open, face it for once and for all." A low rumble of thunder sounded. Alex hissed out an angry breath. "Is this more of your fucking search for the truth? Because you're not going to find it this way." Mulder kept stroking his leg. "I know that, Alex. All I want is three questions answered. We can make it interesting if you want." Alex raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Like...if you lie or try to avoid the question," Mulder said, "no more sex tonight." Alex rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah...this sounds like a helluva lot of fun." Mulder gazed at him. He made his voice low and hypnotic. "C'mon, Alex. We need to do this." Alex looked down, then up again at him, frowning. "Just three questions?" His voice sounded strained. Mulder nodded. Alex rose and went over to the cot. "Well, I'm not doing this crap naked." He pulled on a shirt and sweatpants. Returning, he sat down a few feet from Mulder. Mulder took a sip of beer, trying to appear calmer than he felt. "Do you want to go first?" Mutely, tensely, Alex shook his head. Mulder ran over the questions in his mind. There were so many. He couldn't bring himself to ask the big one just yet. But there was something else he was avidly curious about; something Alex probably wouldn't tell him on his own. "Okay. Alex, when you were in the—" Alex swallowed convulsively. He stared at Mulder as though waiting for some horrible beating. Mulder suddenly realized how cruel it would be to make him relive that experience now, with the darkness all around them. "No, never mind. Strike that." He decided to start off with a puffball, let Alex know he wasn't out to torture him. "Okay. The truth. You didn't have anything to do with blowing up the lab, right?" Alex stared at Mulder open-mouthed for a second, as though still expecting the question about the silo. He shook himself. "I—ah—no. I didn't blow it up. I didn't kill those men." "And you didn't hack into the FBI database?" Alex seemed to relax somewhat at that. He gave a little smirk and shook his head. "You knew as little as we did," Mulder said, nodding. He felt his anger at Spender returning. "Who would think they'd blow up their own fucking lab, just to—" He broke off abruptly. Alex was looking at him with a wary, measuring expression, not saying anything. "You didn't know anything about this, did you, Alex?" Alex pulled back slightly. He looked about to speak, but still said nothing. Mulder felt his insides turning cold. He leaned forward, holding Alex's eyes with his own and speaking urgently. "Alex. You have to tell me the truth. Did you know that lab was going to blow up?" Alex shut his eyes briefly, then opened them. He had that closed-off look again. "No." "Stop jerking me around, Alex! What did you know?" Alex sighed hard and looked down. "I knew about the explosives in the walls." "What?" "Spender—Spender told me, one time—if anyone double-crossed him, he had the building wired to blow sky-high." Alex's eyes met Mulder's. "I didn't know for sure if he was—if he was just—threatening me, or—" "Shit," Mulder breathed. "But you let us all walk in there." "No!" Alex's voice went high. "I was going to go in first, check things out—but Skinner fucked that up. I never meant for anyone to get hurt, Mulder!" Mulder stared at him. He remembered Alex frantically calling him back as he ran toward the building. "I thought Spender was lying, but I knew there was a chance he wasn't," Alex said. "I didn't think they knew we were going in that night—I thought we were safe on the timing. I had to get in there, Mulder, we need that vaccine. I had to take that chance." A flash of lightning illuminated the room for a moment. "This is war, Mulder," Alex said. "People get hurt in war, they get killed." Mulder finished the last of his beer. Why had he thought this would be a simple question? Nothing was ever simple with Alex. "Is that why you wanted me with you?" "Yeah," Alex whispered. "You...you're..." His voice trailed off. Shadows danced over his face in the wavering light. He cleared his throat. "You're necessary for the project." "So are you. Were you willing to sacrifice yourself?" Alex shrugged and looked away. Mulder suddenly didn't want to pursue the subject any longer. He got up and put another log on the fire. He could feel the distance between them now as he returned. Alex sighed, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He took a long drink of beer, then finally looked at Mulder. "Told you I didn't want to play this fucking game." "Yeah." "Happy with what you found out?" Alex's voice sounded higher than usual. "I asked. You answered." Rain lashed the windows. Mulder gave Alex a strained smile. "Well, it's your turn now. You get to put me through the wringer." Alex nodded. He chewed his lip for a few minutes, considering. A devilish glint appeared. "Ooo—kaaay, Mulder...You said you had fantasies about me. Tell me everything." It was Mulder's turn to look startled and find himself at a loss for words. Alex flicked his eyebrows up, grinning at Mulder over the neck of the beer bottle. "Everything. When you first started, what we did—in detail—and if you ever thought about acting on them..." "When I first started...I guess when I told you to blow me." Alex tilted his head. "In your apartment?" His voice was wary, skeptical. "In the car. When we were partners." "Really?" Alex's eyes widened. "You had fantasies back then? I didn't think you even remembered that." "Sure...hell, I always wondered if it would have really happened." Mulder took a swig of beer, suddenly finding it hard to look at Alex. "I had fantasies like that, I imagined—seducing you." "Seducing me?" Alex sounded almost wondering. "Seducing me how?" "Well...I probably would've invited you back to my apartment, to watch a game or something..." Mulder shifted uncomfortably. "And then—?" "Uhm...well, I didn't have any clear-cut plan. I probably would've just...let things happen naturally. I didn't want to push you." It all sounded so pathetic and lame. "I thought you were young and innocent back then." He met Alex's eyes with an ironic smirk, hearing the defensive edge in his voice. "Meanwhile you were probably out every night picking up rough trade, weren't you?" Something flickered in Alex's eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then shut it again, giving a tiny shake of his head. Mulder looked at him curiously. "Tell me something. If it had happened, and maybe more...let's say if we had been lovers...would you have trusted me then?" A dark flush colored Alex's cheeks, and he looked away, clearly upset. After a moment he turned back, his expression hardening. "I'm asking the questions, Mulder." But there was a slight quiver in his voice, a sorrow and yearning in his eyes, that belied the toughness. Mulder shrugged. "Well, that was pretty much it." Alex drew a deep breath, as if to steady himself. It didn't sound like he had quite succeeded when he spoke again. "So your fantasies ended when—when we weren't partners anymore?" "How many fucking questions do you get?" "If you recall, I said tell me everything." Mulder picked at the label on his beer bottle. "No. No, they didn't end there." "Well?" Alex prompted after a moment. Alex, Mulder reflected somewhat irritably, had never learned to be quiet and wait for disclosure. He just needled people until they told him whatever it was he wanted to know. "I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to—" I wanted to do what I almost did in my apartment. At the anger in Mulder's voice, Alex had drawn back. "Do you still want to hurt me?" Mulder took in Alex's wary look and tone. He reached over to rub Alex's thigh. "No...no, I don't want to hurt you Alex. I can think of much better ways of making you scream." Alex slid a little closer, his voice dropping back into that husky purr. "Really. Well, since we're into games, how about some show and tell?" Mulder caressed him. Alex leaned over, pulling Mulder closer. His mouth was cool and demanding and tasted like beer. Alex bit Mulder's throat lightly. "Isn't this better than playing games?" he murmured. Mulder realized what Alex was up to. Even so, he was strongly tempted to forget the game. But, as always, he had to know. He pulled back. "I still have two more questions." Alex sat back too, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. His eyes turned sharp and watchful. Mulder cleared his throat, not without some regret. "Scully's abduction." Alex took a wary sip of beer. "What about it?" Mulder regarded him with a level, hard gaze. "Tell me about it." Alex was silent. Not about to let him off the hook, especially after the earlier disclosure, Mulder prodded him. "In what way were you part of it?" Alex flushed slightly, looking down. "I, ah, I told Spender she was more of a threat than he thought. Because—" It seemed hard for Alex to get the next words out. "—because the two of you were so—so close. Barry used the chip to find her. I thought they were just going to use him to scare her a little, so she wouldn't want anything to do with the X-Files." "Obviously you underestimated her," Mulder said dryly. "And you." One corner of Alex's mouth quirked upward. "How the fuck you figured out he was taking her to Skyland Mountain..." He shook his head. "And then you insisted on taking that damn tram to the top." "Did you kill that tram operator?" "I knocked him out. I don't know what happened to him after that." Mulder took a long swig of beer. He regarded Alex steadily. "Were you trying to kill me, up there on the tram?" Emotion surged into Alex's eyes, and he shook his head vehemently. "I was supposed to stall you, keep you away from Barry. I stopped the tram to try to strand you up there. I didn't know you'd climb out on the top!" "Pure desperation," Mulder said. He remembered the metal swaying under his feet, the wind blowing through his hair, the cold-steel fear that he would not be in time. His mind racing—what had happened? The machinery malfunctioning, the tram operator shutting it down and Krycek not having the balls to stand up to him? "You were going for the tower," Alex said. "I thought you'd get killed. I got scared and started it up again and then—" Alex closed his eyes for a moment "—you almost fell off." He opened his eyes, gazing at Mulder. His voice shook on the words. "I've never tried to kill you, Mulder. I could never do that." Mulder looked at him for a long moment. The firelight played across Alex's face. "No," Mulder said. "When it came right down to it, Alex, I could never bring myself to kill you either." Alex tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling. He sighed heavily; whether from relief or stress Mulder wasn't sure. A log snapped in the fireplace, sending out a shower of sparks. Mulder went to get another couple of bottles of beer. He felt a little lightheaded walking across the room. In a corner of his mind he questioned whether he should really be drinking any more. Returning, he thumped Alex on the knee. "Your turn. Ask me anything." "Anything at all, huh?" Alex said. His eyes on Mulder were intense. "Okay, when are you going to stop hating me?" Mulder started to speak, and Alex shook his head quickly. "No...that's not really my question." He tipped his head back to take a long drink of his beer. "My question is—" Alex looked down, drew a deep breath and blew it out, pursed his lips, and looked back at Mulder. "You just asked me to confess to federal crimes. And I did. You might ask for more before the night is out. Are you going to prosecute me?" "What—no!" Mulder could hardly wrap his mind around the question. The idea of prosecuting Alex for what he was telling Mulder tonight had not even crossed his mind. But it should have. He realized that Alex had asked him something else, was staring at him with that peculiar intensity again. "What, Alex? I said I'm not." "And I said, why?" "Why?" Mulder pondered that, turned it over in his mind, decided to answer it despite the fact that technically it was another question. "Well...it wouldn't be fair." "It wouldn't be fair." "Well, yeah. I wanted to play this game, I told you it was a game. It wasn't supposed to be a federal interrogation. If you're answering me truthfully, it's not fair for me to use that against you and call it an oral confession. Besides," Mulder said, deadpan, "I didn't give you a Miranda warning. So you have nothing to worry about. It wouldn't hold up in court." "It wouldn't be fair, and—and you didn't give me the Miranda." Alex was really starting to sound like a dazed parrot, Mulder thought. The younger man's reaction was baffling him. He had expected Alex to be relieved, maybe even smile a little. Instead Alex was looking at the floor with an expression almost reminiscent of when Mulder had told him he had only been seeking the alien craft. "Alex, what's up?" He nudged Alex's knee. "What, did you want me to prosecute you?" Alex's head came up in quick shock. "No! I just—it's your turn Mulder." "What the hell is going on with you?" "Is that your question?" "No. But I want an answer anyway." Alex swallowed, fixed his eyes on Mulder's. "Is that the whole truth? The fact that we're playing a game, that's the only reason you wouldn't do it?" His hand on the beer bottle seemed to tremble. He pressed the bottle against the floor and cleared his throat. "If I told you—things I've done—tomorrow morning, you would prosecute me?" Mulder understood now. Alex was asking if he could trust Mulder. Would I prosecute him? But he knew the answer with a frightening certainty. I couldn't do that to him. How did I get so far gone? "No," Mulder said. "No, I wouldn't, all right?" Unable to sit there any longer, he stood and walked across the room to the kitchen area. "That's how fucked up I am as an agent." He leaned heavily on the counter, staring down at the scratched Formica surface. Alex got to his feet too. "Mulder..." "Maybe you're right, Alex. Truth, justice—maybe those terms are meaningless. Maybe we're all just creatures of the id, thinking with our dicks. The Freudian pleasure principle. So now I value you above my—" He stopped, not sure what he had been going to say. His job? His ethics? His father? He gazed at Alex's face, seeing the way the candlelight illuminated the fine planes of his features, the muscles of his neck, the long slender bones of his bare feet. "I wish I could just look at you, Alex. Just look at you and touch you and fuck you and never have to deal with any of this." Alex gave a little shake as though startled by Mulder's words. "You can," he said, low. Mulder walked toward him. "No. No, we can't. It's always here with us...all we know. All we've done." He stopped a few feet from Alex. A piece of green wood cracked in the fireplace. The sound burned in the air for a moment, then there was only the steady falling of the rain. Ask him the question. One of the candles wavered and went out. Alex did not move or speak. He was watching Mulder. Ask him. Ask him. Ask him. Mulder turned away. He rubbed the scar on his head. Scully had removed the stitches before she left, but it was still irritating him. The concussion, the tension, the unwelcome revelations, and the three beers he had drunk were all combining to give him a mother of a headache. Alex's bottle of Demerol stood on the counter, mostly untouched. Mulder pried it open and downed one. Alex was watching him with a little frown. He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to lecture Mulder on the stupidity of mixing Demerol and alcohol. "Alex." Mulder held up a hand. "Do you remember in my apartment, when you said it turned me on to think you killed my father, because I hated him?" Alex flinched at that. "Mulder—shit—I'm sorry, I—" "Were you close to your father, Alex?" Alex looked stunned for a moment. "I, ah, I—I was eight." He swallowed, looking away. "He was—pretty strict. I looked up to him a lot..." "I did hate my father at times," Mulder said quietly, "but I looked up to him too. And looked down on him. And...and I loved him, and I wanted him to love me..." He was choking on the words now. "It's not always black and white, Alex." He saw comprehension in Alex's eyes, and an enormous grief. Stop, a voice in his head warned, stop now, it's too much, too close. But the emotion was overtaking him, and he slammed his hand against the wall in frustrated despair. "He asked me for forgiveness, Alex! I wanted to forgive him! And I wanted him to forgive me." Alex shook his head. "Forgive you? For what?" "You know damn well for what!" The sound of her terrified voice, calling his name. The years of helpless searching, always leading to dead ends. The reproach on his parents' faces. "I let them take her." The words were out. A crushing grief settled on him, and he could say nothing further. "Bullshit!" Alex said. Mulder stared at him. Lightning sheeted through the sky, filling the room with a ghostly light. "That wasn't your fault." "Alex...you don't know." Alex's eyes held his. "They went out and left you alone. He sold her out, Fox, he gave her to them, and then he couldn't face what he'd done. So he went out and left the two of you alone that night." A crack of thunder sounded. Mulder closed his eyes. He could hear Samantha screaming his name, begging him to save her. "Alex, it was just the two of us there. Nobody knows. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't—" "He knew they were going to take her," Alex said. "But he couldn't face it. So he left you there. He never gave a thought to what that would do to you, he never gave a shit—" Mulder ran both hands through his hair. "How do you know all this? And why do you care so much?" "I know because he told me. He got drunk one night and told me." Was Alex telling the truth? Was he lying? "Why the hell would he tell you anything?" Alex was silent, watching Mulder with a cagey, measuring expression. "No, don't say it," Mulder told him. "I don't want to know. I don't want to know that you were best buds, that you wormed your way into his confidence like you did with me." Alex's chin went up fractionally; he looked about to speak. "And I don't want to know that you thought he was an asshole, that you had some kind of personal vendetta against him!" He turned, too fast. For a brief, dizzying instant everything turned surreal and frozen, as if he were seeing and hearing it from very far away. The beer and Demerol were kicking in, blurring his perception. His headache hadn't even gone away. In frustration, he slammed the beer bottle down on the counter. "And I sure as hell don't want to hear any more lies, Alex!" Alex shook his head. "I'm not lying." He had to get out of there. Somewhat unsteadily, he walked across the room to the window, where the black sheets of rain came down. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, trying to quiet the pain. "Mulder..." Alex's voice behind him, closer than he expected, made him jump. Mulder turned. Alex was walking toward him "Get away." "Maybe you should sit down," Alex said in the level tones he used on Skinner. Like a brushfire, Mulder felt the rage rising within him "What the hell do you want from me, Krycek? When it comes right down to it, I chose you!" It was taking him over, unstoppable, the fury and pain and grief. He wanted to hit Krycek, wanted to hurt him, break him, shut him up—He stood facing Alex, breathing hard. Alex pulled back, seeming to brace himself. Mulder lifted his hand— A sudden memory flashed, knocking him off-balance. His father's hand, cracking against his face. The shock of it, the pain shooting through his cheek and jaw. What had he done that time? He couldn't remember. Just the anger, flaring suddenly, as it always did, and his father's voice, full of disgust and contempt. "I chose you, Fox." Jesus Christ. "Why?" Mulder asked. Alex blinked at him. "Why me?" It came out in an anguished cry. Impatiently, he shook his head. "Why did he choose me, and let them take her?" More memories were piling on, making it hard to speak. "Why was Scully the one abducted, and not me? Why did—?" Why did you lose your arm, and not me? Alex was staring at him with a strange expression. He shook his head. "He—he didn't, Fox." "So who did?" Mulder demanded. "You?" Alex's mouth fell open. "Me?" Mulder rubbed his head. Disturbingly, he realized that he was no longer thinking very clearly. Of course Alex had not given the order. He had been no more than six or seven at the time. "Spender?" Alex did not answer, but his expression told Mulder he was on target. Mulder seized his arm. "Why, Alex? Why me?" Alex stiffened, turning his arm in Mulder's grasp. Mulder stepped closer. Alex's arm was like a steel bar, holding Mulder off. They stared at each other. "Tell me, Alex. That's my question." "No, it's not." "It's my question." "I'm not answering it." "Fuck!" Frustration, pain and confusion were overtaking Mulder. He shoved Alex away from him, letting go of his arm, and whirled away. Moving too quickly, he rammed his toe against an unseen chair in the darkness. He grabbed the back of the chair for support. "Goddammit, why?" He heard his own voice screaming, felt the pain shooting through his foot, as if it were happening to someone else. Only the emotions, raw and out-of-control, were real. Lifting the chair, he smashed it into the wall, snapping two of the legs. His chest was heaving, his head pounding. Letting the broken chair drop to the floor, he lurched backward, knocking over one of the citronella candles. Alex leaped to right it. "Watch out! You almost set the place on fire." A wave of vertigo hit Mulder. "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" From the floor, Alex stared up at him, open-mouthed. "Fox, you're not making any sense." No, no he wasn't. Nothing was making sense. There was no order in the world, no justice, no safe place. The black void was looming. He slumped to his knees, burying his face in his hands. If he held really still, maybe he wouldn't fall in. Maybe he could be transported back to the beginning of time, become an arthropod, a one-celled animal...a stone... He was aware that time had passed. He smelled citronella and wood smoke. A hand was stroking his forehead, so gently and tenderly that he felt completely disoriented. Who in his life touched him like that? Scully...it must be Scully, but the hand was too big, and the voice was all wrong, that low sandpapery voice. "It wasn't your fault, Fox. They shouldn't have done that to you...you weren't to blame...don't let them tell you that." "I couldn't save her. I couldn't save Scully. I couldn't save Alex..." "Christ, Fox! I never asked you to save me, I only wanted you to—" The low voice rose, nearly cracking for a moment. There was silence for a few minutes, just the hand in his hair. Then Alex spoke again. "You're only human, Fox. These things are out of your hands." He couldn't believe the words, couldn't trust them yet, but they brought him some solace nonetheless. The whir of electrical appliances coming back to life woke Mulder. It was morning, the sky pale gray. He was lying with his head pillowed in Alex's lap. The floor felt hard under him. Alex was sitting with his back against the couch. He had pulled the blanket from the couch down to cover Mulder, but had nothing on himself. "Alex." Mulder sat up and stretched. "What time is it? Have I been here all night?" "Pretty much." Alex was stretching too, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his legs. "Why didn't you wake me up and tell me to go to bed? This can't be comfortable. Are you frozen?" "I'm okay. I tried, but you were out for the count." Memories of the night before were coming back. Mulder pulled himself up, finding it hard to look at Alex. "Did you get any sleep?" Alex yawned. "Yeah, some...I was mostly thinking." He got to his feet and walked stiffly toward the bedroom, favoring his left side. At the bedroom doorway he stopped. "Ahh, fuck," he said, sounding disgusted. Mulder came up behind him, peering over his shoulder. The bedroom was just as they had left it the previous night, pillows knocked asunder, sheets splotched with chocolate and sticky smudges of whipped cream. The sight seemed incongruous in the daylight, but it broke through the distanced, self-conscious atmosphere. Smirking wearily, they stripped off the sheets. With the bed made, Alex dropped onto it and stretched out. Mulder tossed the sheets in the laundry pile for later and returned to the bedroom. "Hey, Alex, roll over on your stomach." Alex gave him a look from under his lashes. "Mulder, you're insatiable." "Christ, Alex, what kind of sex fiend do you think I am? I was just gonna rub your back. You must be stiff from sitting like that all night." He sat on the edge of the bed next to Alex. Many of the women in his life had told him he was good at giving backrubs, but he could not recall ever giving one to another man before. Remembering what Alex had said, he used more pressure and force, digging in with the heels of his hands and using his full weight. Alex appeared to appreciate it, judging from the sounds that resulted. He only tensed visibly when Mulder put his hands on the left shoulder. Mulder moved on without comment. He let his hands travel down to Alex's ass. "Mmm, you feel really tense here. I'm going to have to really work on this a lot." He bent down. "I might even have to use my tongue as backup." Alex became even louder, responding very vocally to Mulder's attentions. He lifted up a little, pulling Mulder's hand around to where he wanted it. Mulder grinned. "Now who's insatiable?" They lay entwined afterward, breathing deeply. Mulder reached down to the floor and snagged Alex's t-shirt to clean up with. "I guess nature abhors an unstained sheet." "Aah, just move over out of the wet spot, it'll be fine." Alex's eyes were half-closed, but he was not asleep. Mulder scratched circles on the back of his neck, in that special spot that Alex liked. When he did that, Alex made soft little sounds, a cross between a purr and a whimper, that sounded ecstatic and heartbroken at the same time. Mulder kept it up until Alex's eyes closed and his little noises became no more than soft breathy sighs. He started to get up but, without opening his eyes, Alex tightened his grip on Mulder, holding him there. Mulder chuckled softly. Okay, I get the message; don't stop. He continued until Alex was truly, deeply asleep, then slipped out of bed and headed for the kitchen to make coffee. I must be losing it. Did I just sit and rub Krycek's neck for half an hour so he could fall asleep? Yep. And now I'm going to cook him breakfast. Definitely losing it. He had never felt better. Humming to himself, he grilled some breakfast sausage links and toasted up some frozen waffles. It was a warm, balmy day outside, sun pouring in through the windows and everything looking washed clean by the torrential rain of last night. Mulder fixed plates, put some butter and syrup on the waffles, and turned the oven on low to keep them warm. He fixed a cup of coffee the disgusting way Alex liked it, with loads of sugar and cream. Alex lay exactly as Mulder had left him, sprawled across the bed in a picture of sensual repose. Mulder lay down next to him, just admiring the sight for a few minutes before reaching to shake Alex's shoulder. Alex startled awake, staring at Mulder open-mouthed, a look of dazed alarm on his face. Mulder rubbed his bicep. "Hey, hey, it's me. Made you breakfast." Alex blinked at him a few times, still seemingly half-asleep. Instead of waking fully for breakfast, as Mulder expected, Alex slid up close, nuzzling against Mulder. He burrowed into the crook of Mulder's arm, wrapping his arm and leg over Mulder, then settled back to sleep with a few small contented noises. "Jeez," Mulder said, bemused. "Thought you didn't like to snuggle, kid." Alex tightened his hold and smiled in his sleep. Mulder felt an overwhelming rush of feeling, making it hard to breathe for a minute. Christ, Mulder, get a grip. He just smiles and you turn to a puddle of goo? He stroked his fingers through Alex's hair, brushing it back. "Your hair's getting longer, lover. I like it." Alex made a soft humming sound. "Did I ever tell you how much I love all those noises you make?" Mulder took a sip of Alex's coffee, grimacing at the taste. With his other hand, he caressed Alex, loving the feel of him, all that sleek solid muscle so warm and relaxed. Here, while Alex slept, he could relax too, talk all kinds of nonsense that he would never say to Alex's face. "You're beautiful, you know that? Just so fucking gorgeous and hot. Hey, are you going to snooze the day away?" It appeared that way, as Alex snored blissfully against Mulder's chest. He certainly didn't seem to be having any trouble sleeping now. "Guess you just needed to get laid, baby." On impulse, Mulder ran the tip of his finger back and forth through Alex's thick lashes, something he had always wanted to do. Alex batted Mulder's hand away without opening his eyes. Mulder chuckled softly, imagining what would happen if he tried that while Alex was awake. He drank some more of Alex's coffee and then slid down in the bed, trying to get a little more comfortable without disturbing Alex. It was past noon when Mulder awoke. Vivid fragments of a dream chased through his mind. Samantha, sitting in the old cemetery behind the church. He was there too, the two of them reclining on the sun-warmed ground. Sam had gathered a handful of those weeds that looked like furry green caterpillars. She tickled him under the nose with one. "Come on." Mulder felt a heaviness in his body, a sleepy reluctance to move. "Let's just stay here." "It's Tomasina." Then they were walking. Tomasina beckoned them. She was feeding her chickens, throwing grain out in steady arcs. Mulder opened his eyes. Sunlight was pouring into the bedroom and Alex was lying next to him, gazing at him in that disturbingly tender way again. Looking into those green eyes for a moment, Mulder had the dizzying sensation of all the walls being down, of Alex opening himself up completely for that split second. Then Alex lowered his lashes, grinning invitingly at Mulder. "Don't get up just yet." He wanted to say how much he appreciated what Alex had done last night—not just sitting with him all night, though that was enough—but telling him the truth as well. He knew that had not been easy; knew Alex had risked a lot to do it. He wanted to tell Alex as well how glorious it was to wake up next to him in bed. He tried to tell him without speaking, pulling Alex close, kissing him, and running his hands over Alex's body. "Oh, but I am up." After sitting in the oven for hours, the waffles and sausage Mulder had made now resembled corrugated cardboard with a side of beef jerky. "Well, it's the thought that counts," Mulder said as he scraped them into the trash. "I thought you'd get up and eat them." Alex threw him a look. The expression on Alex's face, which Mulder had seen a hundred times before, suddenly sent a rush of feeling through him. He pushed Alex back against the refrigerator, kissing him. Alex gazed at him, his lips parted. He was just Mulder's size, and could look him right in the eyes, which Mulder found exciting as well. He was used to looking down. "So," Mulder murmured, "you going to make us breakfast now?" Alex seemed to relax fractionally. "Oh, that's what you want, huh?" As Alex got out the skillet, Mulder poured himself another cup of coffee, reflecting that Alex seemed easier with getting smacked around than with any sort of expression of affection. He could not help feeling a pained impatience with that. Rationally he realized it was because it made him feel sad, and guilty, two emotions he hated. Rationally, he also knew that it must be very hard for Alex to trust anyone, and that Alex would let him in to the degree he had was extraordinary. Still, there was a part of him that wanted to just take those walls down by force, thrust himself into Alex's psyche the way he had thrust his cock... "You like onions in your omelet?" Mulder blinked. "Yeah, sure." He sat at the counter and watched Alex carefully loosening the edges of the omelet. With a little smirk at Mulder, Alex flipped the omelet up and caught it in the pan. "Hey Alex. How many of those did you drop on the floor before you learned to do that?" Alex smiled at him. "A lot, my friend." As they ate, Mulder told Alex about the dream. He felt a mounting excitement, listening to his own words. "She was there, Alex, with Tomasina! I knew there was something about that place, I told you about the weird vibrations I felt, and how time would stop. It's got to be a portal of some kind." Alex looked for a moment like he wanted to speak, but he was silent, merely finishing his eggs and carrying his plate to the sink. Mulder jumped to his feet. He felt energy bursting through him, an incredible sense of being on the verge of something. "We have to go there! If she is there, I have to see her." "Mulder..." Alex's voice was quiet. "It might be just—" "A dream, I know, Alex. But I was there, I felt it. Come on." He let Alex take the first turn in the shower to get the lion's share of the hot water, in case Alex was still stiff from sitting on the floor all night. Shaving at the bathroom mirror while Alex showered, he was struck again by how domestic and normal it all seemed. It warmed him, and at the same time felt strangely surreal, as though he was standing inside someone else's life. Like one of those stories in his mother's Reader's Digest magazines: "All was as usual on that morning. They never suspected that disaster was about to befall them!" He shrugged that thought off as Alex emerged from the shower, wet and totally alluring. Mulder was very tempted to postpone their outing for a while. But he was equally anxious to head out. Well, outdoors was nice too. They could always bring a blanket. He spotted the gold circle of Alex's earring lying on the sink "Hey, Alex, don't forget this." Alex took his earring from Mulder. He stood there for a few minutes, trying to put it on one-handed. Having no success, he tilted his head toward Mulder, looking somewhat irritated. "Mulder...can you...?" Mulder was momentarily floored. Alex had never asked him for help doing anything before. Even in the cell in Trenton, he would have spent the whole night with his head on the toilet rather than ask Mulder's assistance in getting on the bed. Trying to appear casual, Mulder reached for the small gold ring. Inexperience and nerves made him clumsy, however, and after enduring a few minutes of Mulder's fumbling, Alex gave an exasperated huff and reached up to do it himself. Mulder swatted his hand down. "Stand still...I've almost got it." "Leave it, just leave it off." "No," Mulder said absently, focused on his task. "I like it." Finally he got the tiny wire threaded through Alex's earlobe. Alex stepped away, shaking himself like a wet dog. Mulder followed, wrapping his arms around Alex from behind. "Patience is not your strong suit." "Yeah, and dexterity isn't yours." Mulder let his hands roam. "That's not what you said last night." Alex turned in his arms, pressing up against Mulder. But they were both eager to leave the cabin, and after a few minutes laughing and petting, they dressed, loaded up the backpack and headed out. Despite his injuries, Alex kept up a fairly good pace, and they were there sooner than Mulder expected. He felt a quicksilvering of anticipation all over at seeing the peeling whitewashed exterior with its flamelike tendrils of ivy. Grabbing Alex's hand, he pulled him onward, into the church. Alex seemed much less eager, entering with the stiff, edgy stride of a cat in a strange house. His wide, wary green eyes surveyed the interior, checking it out. "Look at this place," Mulder breathed. "It's got to be a couple of hundred years old." Alex said nothing; Mulder had the impression he'd have preferred to have his Glock in hand. He squeezed Alex's arm lightly. "Relax." Alex nodded. He moved cautiously toward the altar, staring fixedly at the beam of dancing light. Mulder felt, again, that overpowering attraction and excitement pulling him in. He propelled Alex toward the altar. Alex moved forward with great reluctance, the immovable object to Mulder's irresistible force. "This is it, this is the door!" Mulder could barely contain himself. "I don't have a good feeling about this." Slowly, Alex put out his hand. His fingers brushed the light. He recoiled violently, as though he had touched a live wire. Mulder spun to stare at him. "Alex? You all right—?" Alex backed away. His face looked white and he was shaking. "No. No, that's too—" He hurried back down the aisle, toward the door. Mulder followed him. "Yeah, I told you it feels weird, but it—" "I'm not going in there." Mulder stared at him incredulously. "Well, I'm going in." "No!" The note of desperation in Alex's voice gave Mulder pause. Alex took a deep breath, seemingly trying to get himself under control. "No, Mulder. Don't." "Why the hell not?" "What if you don't come back?" Alex's eyes were wide. Mulder tried to speak calmly, to make Alex see reason. "Alex, I've been through there twice already, and come back. I know what's there. It's nothing—" "You said it was harder to leave the cemetery each time, harder to find your way back," Alex said. "What if you don't find your way back?" Unable to answer, Mulder simply looked at him. "You go in there and time is all screwed up and it's harder to find your way out again each time, and now your dead sister tells you she's in there." Your dead sister. Mulder grabbed Alex by the shoulder, gripping him tightly. "What do you know, Alex? Do you know my sister is dead?" With hawklike intensity, he studied Alex's face for any trace or flicker that would tell him. Alex's expression did not change. "I don't know anything for sure, Fox." His voice was low. "That's just what I—" He broke off. What you believe. "Don't call me Fox," Mulder snapped. He wanted to lash out at something. Why can't you ever be a fucking optimist, Krycek? "I tried to find out," Alex said softly. "I did as much digging as I could, but..." Mulder turned from him and sat down in one of the back pews. He ran his fingers over the wooden seat, feeling the well-worn grooves where someone had carved their name into it decades ago. High on the wall, sunlight slanted in through one of the stained-glass windows, a depiction of Saint Francis of Assisi surrounded by a flock of blackbirds. It reminded him of Tomasina in the dream, feeding her chickens. A sharp despair pierced him; a feeling of something irrevocably slipping away. If he did not go through the door, Samantha and Tomasina might be lost to him forever. But if he did go, he might lose Alex. Alex sat down next to him in the pew. He caught Mulder's eye but did not touch him or speak. Mulder had the sense that, for once, Alex did not have a plan of any sort. He was not anticipating what would happen next. He was simply waiting to see what Mulder would do. Mulder looked toward the front of the church, at the beam of light. Was it really some kind of portal to the past, to the dead? What was it Tomasina had said about the trees? "They will be bigger in your time." He had thought she meant during his lifespan, because he was younger than she was. But what if she had meant it literally? He had to know. He always had to know. Mulder got to his feet. Alex looked up at him. He did not speak, but Mulder could sense his agitation. Alex stood, too, blocking Mulder's way. Mulder looked at him. "I'll come back." "No you won't." Alex's voice rose. Fierce emotion flooded the green eyes for a second. Alex glanced toward the front of the church, the beam of light, then quickly looked away with a faint shudder. Mulder reached out, taking hold of Alex's chin. He wanted to ask Alex why it would matter so much to him if Mulder never did come back. He wanted to make Alex say it, admit his feelings, whatever they were. But the words did not come. He recalled last night, Alex stroking his hair and talking to him. The expression on Alex's face when Mulder returned to the cabin yesterday. Alex kneeling by the couch, offering himself up. He had said he would do anything for Mulder. Mulder leaned forward and kissed Alex lightly on the lips, then released him. "Let's go," he whispered. Alex looked at him in bewilderment, as though unsure what was happening. Mulder gave him a little push, and Alex stepped out of the pew. Mulder took his hand and started to walk toward the altar. Alex froze. Mulder felt his shock. Alex took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Mulder was uncomfortably reminded of Alex preparing to climb into the car trunk. It brought him up short. Was he really going to put Alex through this, because of something that had come to him in a dream? Alex took a small step forward. Mulder stopped. He turned around and led Alex out of the church. Outside, Alex blinked at him, looking shaken. "You're not going in?" he asked, sounding agitated. Mulder drew a deep breath. "No." Alex gripped Mulder's arm, looking searchingly from Mulder to the church and back again with big, intense eyes. "But..." Mulder could see the strong emotion in Alex's expressive face, could see him struggling to take this in. Come on, Mulder wanted to say, but his legs would not start walking. He stared down at the ground, where two crossed sticks lay beside a yellow leaf, feeling a great heaviness settle upon him. Alex put his arms around Mulder, pulling him into a tight embrace. He whispered something that might have been, 'I'm sorry' or 'I saw her' or 'stars.' Mulder leaned his head on Alex's shoulder. They breathed in unison. Mulder heard a bird cry, high and clear. When they started walking again, Alex put his arm around Mulder's shoulders. Mulder moved the backpack to his right hand so that he could slip his arm about Alex's waist. They walked in melancholy silence, as though leaving a funeral. Alex took the lead now, pulling Mulder onward until they reached a flat grassy spot. He looked at Mulder questioningly, as though gauging Mulder's emotional state. Mulder put his mind at ease by pulling him close and kissing him deeply. Their lovemaking was tender but passionate, a laying-on of hands to ease away the memories of the truth-telling and the moments in the church. Afterward, they lay together, fingers loosely clasped. A butterfly was on the tree, orange wings spread against the white bark. Alex turned his head, looking at Mulder. "I love the way you laugh when you get excited." Mulder was overwhelmed for a moment. Alex had never said anything like that to him before. He rolled onto his side, moving closer. "I love all those sounds you make. Are you always this loud?" Alex flushed slightly, slanting a look at Mulder. "Well, they're damn hot." Suddenly remembering something, Mulder laughed. "This guy, my old lover, he used to just go 'hmmm' when we were fucking, over and over, just like that, like he was walking around an art museum looking at paintings or something." Mulder chuckled again, remembering how monotonous and irritating he had found Cedric's noises after awhile. It was one of the reasons he had been attracted to Phoebe instead. Diabolical as she was, she was never boring. "It was so—" Mulder broke off as he noticed Alex staring at him with the most peculiar expression. "What's the matter, Alex?" "I didn't know you had a lover. I thought you just—fooled around in college." "That too," Mulder grinned. But Alex did not smile back. "Yeah, I had a lover, for a while." He stared at Alex questioningly, perplexed as to why it should matter. It wasn't as if he had lied to Alex. "He was—" "That's okay." Alex raised his hand sharply, not looking at Mulder. Incredulous realization struck Mulder. "Don't tell me you're jealous." Alex's frown deepened. "No, I just—" "You are jealous!" Mulder gave a whoop of laughter. "Of something that happened over fifteen years ago. Krycek, you never cease to—" "Mulder, just shut up." "Come on. You haven't exactly been the poster boy for abstinence. I don't get upset about that." Mulder reached for the bottle of water and took a long swig. "I don't even complain when you yell someone else's name while we're fucking." Alex's head came up. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't—" "So who's Lisa?" Alex looked dumbstruck for a second, then stiffened just a bit, his lashes coming down to shutter his eyes. "Hmm?" "You called her name when we were going at it. Couple of times, in fact." Lise, moy lisa, lisitsa. "Who is she?" "Oh that...Nothing really...it's just a—a nonsense word." "Bullshit." Alex sighed. "Okay, it's—it just means 'fuck me.'" Fuck me? Well, that would account for the way Alex had said it, his voice ragged with longing and desire. But why would Alex be hesitant to tell him that? He certainly wasn't shy about yelling 'fuck me' in English. "Nuh-uh. Double bullshit." The way Alex had said it...when he was most lost to passion, about to go under, like an old, familiar mantra, a caress, like—"No, it's somebody's name." Mulder laid a hand on his lover's smooth chest. "Was she someone you loved?" He hoped his tone was sufficiently casual, that it did not betray any of the wild curiosity—jealousy?—he was feeling. Alex covered Mulder's hand with his own. He was gazing at Mulder, his face full of emotion Mulder could not quite identify: sadness, amusement, yearning? That intense look, like he wanted Mulder to understand something, like he expected Mulder to understand something... Was Mulder supposed to know her? Frantically, he racked his brain. Lise, Lissa... "Melissa?" he said in disbelief. "Scully's sister?" The instantaneous change in Alex's expression, his face slamming shut, turning glacial, told Mulder just how badly he had miscalculated with that guess. "No." Alex snarled. "Christ, Mulder, just let it drop." He got to his feet swiftly and started pulling on his clothes. "Alex..." "Let's get back. It's getting cold." Mulder zipped up his jeans. "Damn, I can never say the right thing with you." Alex threw him a look. "Mulder, you don't even try." He turned and started walking back to the cabin. Mulder hauled the blanket up and followed. "You're worse than a woman." Alex snorted. "And you would know this from your extensive experience with women, huh?" "As opposed to yours?" "I like women." The little smile Alex gave him was smug. "And women like me." Mulder grabbed him, pushing him back against a tree. Alex flinched, his hand going up automatically. "Hey, hey, easy..." Mulder leaned forward, brushing his lips against Alex's neck, then running his tongue lightly over Alex's lower lip. "I can make you forget them all, you wild thing...even Lisa." Again that strange expression on Alex's face, for just a moment, before he closed his eyes. They spent the afternoon hanging out on the screened porch, Alex reading "Steppenwolf" and Mulder trying without much success to get the hot tub pump running. Mulder had bought some birdseed at the supermarket and he filled up the feeder, hoping the pair of blackbirds would return. He let the "Lisa" matter drop, deciding instead to investigate it through other means. Around six o'clock his cell phone rang. He took it inside this time. "What've you got, Fro?" "I didn't find anyone named 'Lisa' in any of the files we pulled off there, or any of the disks you got from Krycek," Frohike said. Mulder shrugged; it had been a long shot. "This is interesting, though," Frohike went on. "You asked me if it had any meaning in Russian. Guess what it means?" "Fuck me?" "Fox." "Don't call me Fox." "That's what it means." "Fuck me?" "Jeez, who's on first here!" Frohike sighed. "Mulder. Lisa, or lisitsa, is the Russian word for fox." Mulder hung up the phone and sat shaking his head. That sneaky bastard Krycek. He knew Mulder hated the name. But Alex had never called him that to his face, only during the wildest moments of sex, when he hardly even seemed to know what he was saying. They heated up the leftover chili for dinner, and Mulder made a salad while Alex toasted garlic bread. They worked together in easy companionship, not speaking much. Mulder felt warmed by the simple pleasure of cooking together, the delicious aromas of garlic and chili, the sight of Alex so engrossed in what he was doing. Alex took a taste from the pot, then held the long wooden spoon out for Mulder to sample. This is as good as it gets. But he also felt that strangeness again, that feeling of surreality and foreboding, as if it was all too good. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. After dinner they spread a blanket out in front of the fire, reveling in being able to lounge around naked in the living room, to make love openly, to lie together afterward without worrying about the time. "Does Scully have to come back from D. C.?" Alex asked with a little grin. Does this have to end? Do you have to go into the witness protection program? I told you I would never prosecute you—what does that mean for us? They watched a baseball game, then the news, then channel-surfed, working their way through the case of beer and getting into pointless, laughing arguments over baseball, foxes, domestic vs. imported beer... Neither one of them wanted to revisit the soul-baring of the previous night. It occurred to Mulder how much he was enjoying this, just hanging out as buddies. Alex switched the channel to some late-night music show. A reggae version of "Red, Red Wine" was playing. Mulder got up to use the bathroom. Coming back, he realized Alex was singing along with the band. He did have a pretty good voice. "Alright! Sing it Alex!" Alex gave him that pirate-like smile and began to sing louder. "It's up to you All I can do, I've done But memories won't go..." Mulder listened, entranced. Alex wasn't just good, he was fantastic. His deep voice rose and fell, carving out the melody with a raw edge the reggae singer lacked. Listening to him, Mulder felt the hairs go up on his arms. He crawled closer, totally captivated by the sound and sight: Alex shirtless, in the firelight, smiling like that as he sang. Mulder thought he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. "I'd have sworn, that with time Thoughts of you would leave my head I was wrong..." Alex took a drink of his beer, then came in right on cue as the vocals started up again. He tipped his head back, exultant, the last bars of the song soaring out in that dark, soulful voice. "Red, red wi-ii-iine... Stay close to me-e-e... Don't let me be alone..." Mulder crawled the last few feet to Alex and collapsed with his head in his lover's lap. "You are fan-fucking-tabulous!" "You are so drunk, my friend." "You too, Alexei, totally plastered. But I'm not complaining if it means I get to hear you sing." Alex took another long swig of beer. "I don't really like that name." "Alexei? Why not?" "Too Russian-sounding." "I like it." "Well, I like Fox." Mulder smiled. "Yeah, I know, Alex." Alex looked momentarily startled, then flushed slightly. Mulder watched in amused fascination. Alex's eyes searched his face. "So..." Mulder said smoothly, "tell you what. I'll stop if you will." Alex started to speak, hesitated. "Mulder...I don't..." "Yeah, I know, Alex." Mulder grinned as Alex's flush deepened. Oh, he was loving it. Alex Krycek, blushing and stammering, because of him. Alex was giving that little frown, signifying he had had enough of Mulder's teasing. He set the beer bottle down, huffing out a sigh. "Fuck, I haven't been this drunk in...I don't know how long. If anything happens tonight I'm screwed." "I'll protect you." Alex snorted. "My hero. You're in worse shape than I am." Mulder thought how much he liked the sound of that, Alex calling him "my hero." He grinned up at him. "Hey, you know, if this saving the world from aliens thing doesn't work out, you could always become a rock singer." "Only if you'll be my groupie." "Oooh." Mulder drained the last of his beer. "A-lex-ei." "Aah, what the fuck." Alex gave up. "It doesn't even sound Russian anymore, the way you say it." He played in Mulder's hair, pushing his fingers through it. "Fox fits you. You look like a fox, with this thick hair." "Give it a rest." "The first time I saw you," Alex said softly. "I wanted to run my fingers through your hair." "Are you serious?" Alex looked down, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Sure." He swallowed. "Even before I met you, when I saw your picture, and read your file...I thought about you all the time." "Yeah," Mulder said dryly. "I was your subject." "No...it was more than that. I..." "Wanted my body?" Mulder gazed up at him. "Planned on doing the horizontal mambo atop the nearest desk?" Alex looked away. "Something like that," he mumbled. "Yeah, I liked you too, Alex." A small, wistful silence fell. Glancing up, Mulder found Alex staring at him with that strangely intense, yearning expression again. "What?" Alex continued to gaze at him without speaking. "I wish I could read your mind." Alex began to speak, slowly at first, then gradually building up speed. Mulder was so captivated by the sound and cadence of his voice that he did not notice at first that Alex was not speaking English but Russian. Alex went on speaking for several minutes, the words pouring out of him. His voice was heartfelt and passionate, breaking with emotion at times. Mulder felt like he was in a trance; he could have listened all night. Floating on the words, he did not notice at first when they stopped. Alex drew in a deep, shaky breath. Mulder lifted Alex's hand and kissed the palm. Not looking at him, Alex squeezed Mulder's arm. "All right, get up. We're not sleeping on the floor again." Mulder felt a little thrill at the thought of sleeping in the bed with Alex all night. They brought their guns and flashlights in and set them on the table by the bed or, in Alex's case, under the pillow. It occurred to Mulder that they wouldn't have to worry about dressing for bed either. He liked that thought. Alex was already in bed when Mulder returned from brushing his teeth. Happily, Mulder spooned up against him, pulling him close. Alex tensed and twitched in his hold. "Mulder...I can't really fall asleep like this." "Oh...okay." Mulder moved away to lie on his back, giving Alex a pat on the hip. He felt somewhat disappointed, but not really surprised; he knew Alex was not used to this. Alex slid over to the very edge of the bed, lying stiffly with his back to Mulder. Mulder wanted to tell him to relax, but sleep overtook him before he could open his mouth. Mulder was pulled out of a deep sleep by the bed shaking. His head ached, and he felt vaguely queasy. Fuck, he had a hangover. He struggled against it, feeling a surge of annoyance for whatever was disturbing him. Reluctantly, he dragged his eyes open. Alex was moving jerkily in his sleep, making tiny, indistinct sounds. "Alex, hey." Mulder laid a hand on his chest. Alex's eyes flew open, dark and terrified-looking. "You were dreaming," Mulder said. He could feel Alex's heart pounding under his palm. Alex rolled onto his back, putting his hand over his face. He swallowed convulsively. Mulder ran his tongue over his lips. His mouth felt full of sand. "Y'all right?" "Yeah..." Alex's voice was a hoarse whisper. He sat up, looking around at the room. Mulder propped himself up on one elbow. He reached for Alex, rubbing his back and shoulder. "Alex...c'mere." He fully expected Alex to shrug his hand off, but, surprisingly, Alex allowed Mulder to pull him down into his arms. With a little sigh, he settled down stiffly, his head against Mulder's shoulder. His eyes remained wide open, staring into the darkness. He was shaking slightly, and Mulder could hear his teeth chatter before Alex clenched his jaw to stop the sound. Mulder shut his eyes, wishing his head would stop throbbing. He felt exhausted and irritable. He really wanted sleep, but Alex's state of semi-vigilance was getting to him, and the shaking was making his nausea worse. "So what was the dream?" "I don't—" Alex shook his head. "Nothing." "It's not nothing. You're still all on edge." "You going to interpret my dreams now, Dr. Freud?" Alex did not sound pleased. Yeah, like the field of psychology could never be of any help to you, Krycek. You're not screwed up in the least. "Sometimes it helps." Alex drew a short, ragged breath. "I—I don't want to t-talk about it, I don't even want to think about it," he said. "Mulder...just..." "What is it?" He gave Alex a little shake, rougher than he meant to. "Talk to me." Alex exhaled sharply through his teeth. He pulled away to lie on his back again, staring up at the ceiling. Mulder knew he should be gentle and reassuring, but he was losing patience with Alex's constant stonewalling and shutting him out. He folded his arms across his chest. Several long moments went by. "I was a prisoner..." Alex's voice was low and halting, surprising Mulder in the darkness. Alex turned his head to look at Mulder. "In this little dingy, um, pretty filthy cell." Alex had been a prisoner a few times, and he was not a person who took to the experience well. Mulder was not surprised he had nightmares about it. "And I felt...like...like I would rip off my own fucking skin to get free." Mulder shut his eyes for a second, sickened by the imagery. His heart was speeding up, adrenaline jolting through his body, wanting to rescue Alex. "And the guy...the guard...he was a real sadistic asshole. One of those guys who'll just stop at nothing, you know?" Alex drew a deep breath. "He, ahh, he...he even..." Alex's voice was shaking ever so slightly. Mulder felt a tight clenching in his gut. He reached out a hand, laid it tentatively on Alex's stomach. "What?" he asked, as gently as he could. "He even...ate my candy bar!" Alex stared at Mulder for another second before flashing his wolfish grin and dissolving into laughter. Mulder felt like Alex had punched him. "You suck, Krycek." Alex was still shaking with laughter. "Yeah, and you love it when I do, Foxy." "Fuck you." Mulder rolled over, his back to Alex. "I'm going to sleep." He couldn't believe he had fallen for that, that Krycek had played him so well. "It was a joke, okay?" Alex said, sounding tired. "You're overreacting." Mulder noticed that Alex hadn't said he was sorry, or made any attempt to reach out to Mulder. Alex never said he was sorry. He just played people for what he wanted, rationalized it, and went on his merry way. Mulder stayed silent, disgusted with Krycek and with himself for falling for it. "Okay...well, goodnight..." Alex said softly. He sounded a little sad, almost forlorn. Mulder did not respond. He lay staring at the cabin wall, too wound up to fall asleep now. The heavy silence hung between them, punctuated by the maddening sound of the crickets outside. Mulder could tell from Alex's breathing that he was lying awake too. The bed seemed too small now, crowded with the both of them in it. Mulder got up, used the bathroom, and swallowed a couple of aspirins. The kitchen light hurt his eyes, shooting shards of pain through his head when he turned it on. He quickly switched it off and stood looking out the window, taking his time sipping a glass of cold water. He couldn't believe how he had reacted to that, the way his own body had responded in sympathy as he listened to Krycek's totally fabricated tale. He had felt a protective rage, knowing how Alex feared being confined in small spaces, suspecting what had happened to him in prison... If any of that was true. How many other times had Krycek been playing Mulder, and just not bothered to let him know? How much of what he told Mulder was ever true? Krycek knew exactly what strings to pull, knew Mulder too well, while Mulder apparently didn't know him at all. Just like old times, Alex, when we were partners. I worried about you, while you played me for a fool. Yeah, I was about ready this time to take you home with me and buy you a puppy. That's what a fucking sap I am. He recalled his earlier feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Well, now it had; right on his head, and it felt like his skull was going to crack open. Lie, deny and justify. He thought about staying out on the couch, but there was junk piled all over it. And he didn't want to seem like he was more upset than Krycek, who was probably curled up sound asleep, the whole thing forgotten. He rubbed his temples wearily and headed back to the bedroom. Alex was sitting there against the headboard, his knees up, his fist pressed to his mouth. Staring into the darkness, he looked young, lost and afraid. But then, you could look any way you want, Krycek, and who knows what's really going on. You're a master at that, mindfucker. Alex's eyes fastened on Mulder's as Mulder approached. Mulder ignored him and lay down on the bed, turning his back. He heard Alex swallow, clear his throat quietly like he was about to speak, then sigh softly. The bed shifted suddenly as Alex turned toward him. Mulder felt Alex's hand settle on his arm, a tentative ghost of a touch. "Mulder..." Alex's voice was no more than a scratchy whisper. Mulder felt the anger, hot and tight in his gut. "Get your fucking hand off me, Krycek, or I'll knock you across this room." Instantly, Alex's hand was withdrawn. Mulder could feel another tiny shift of the bed, then nothing. Alex was sitting very, very still; Mulder could hardly hear him breathing. Jesus, Krycek could be a stone when he wanted to. When had he learned to do that? As a triple agent, ratlike, laying low in hidey-holes? Or earlier than that? Not even watched TV, I just sat there. It was like I was invisible... For just a moment Mulder had an impulse to forget all this, just roll over and take Alex in his arms again. But he had had more than enough of Krycek's bullshit for one night. Chapter Six: The Fox ereshkigal44@yahoo.com

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