He knew he had been hurt in some way that defied description. Not a
physical injury, but something else, darker and more frightening. And
now he feared sleep, as he had never done before.
He feared most of all the dark place inside his own mind, and the
nightmares that sprang from it. The eyes. The terrible burning red eyes,
that glared out at him from the darkness. The eyes of the one who hurt
him. He whimpered at the memory of the monstrous amusement they
showed.
Being held prisoner by these other people was easy in comparison. They
blustered and threatened him, but after the other place, this was
paradise in comparison. If they killed him, or even tortured him, still
it would be far better than the things the evil one would do......
He had told his captors again and again the truth. That he couldn't
remember, and he did his best to answer their questions. Trying to
please them, wanting an end to the endless rounds of threats and
demands.
They were finally beginning to believe him. Even all of their drugs and
a violent beating in one session had yielded up no memory of who he was
or why was he here. He wanted to please them, really he did. He wanted
to know, as much as they, the answers to those questions. He told them
as much. But by now they were losing interest in him. They thought him a
nobody, a bum, in the wrong place at the wrong time. They thought it was
coincidence that he had been there when the craft crash landed. Maybe he
was a new age freak or hippie communing in the desert, and had found
himself a whole heap of trouble.
That was the thought running round inside the head of the lead man right
now. The amnesiac realised perhaps, that if he told them something like
that, perhaps they would leave him alone. It worked. He found the lie
easy to tell, and sighed inwardly with relief at the immediate lessening
of interest they displayed, when he claimed allegiance with the unknown
tribe of "Hippie." Only later did he come to wonder how easily he read
their small minds and how effective his strategy was.
The Cigarette Smoking Man watched the latest of his test subjects on a
video feed as the young man sat patiently facing a blank wall,
apparently happy to wait in silence and isolation for whatever fate
brought to him. The young man really was a nuisance. He had been found
less than a hundred yards away from the crashed UFO, apparently stunned,
deeply unconscious. Of course, he had to be brought in for questioning,
to determine firstly if he was entirely human, you could never be sure
these days. And secondly, whether he knew too much for his own good.
The young fool was amnesiac, it had been confirmed by the doctors after
extensive tests. He was probably just what he appeared to be. Some young
idiot on a "pilgrimage of enlightenment", doing drugs in the middle of
the desert, who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had no
memory of how he got to the crash site. Just a bum. And yet....... No
records in any Federal database, which should be impossible. And an odd,
stilted accent, as if he wasn't used to speaking English.
Puzzling.
He had a solution though. Alex would take the young man off his hands
and use his own unique skills to determine the truth. No one could
match Alex Krycek for being a duplicitous son of a bitch!
Alex stared resentfully at the man sitting next to him in the rented
car, who was just finishing the fries and coke that Alex had bought for
him at the drive-in along the road. What a dead end waste of time
assignment this was. A couple of weeks shepherding some fool who had
lost his memory, to see if he was a threat to the Consortium's plans.
There was apparently some question as to his mystery companion's origin,
and certain puzzling anomalies about him. So bring in good old Alex, who
loved dead end assignments. Who may be a skilled operative, but still
only had one arm. They saw him as vulnerable, and a high risk, despite
the lengths he had gone to in proving himself.
Well at least the guy he was shepherding was young and good looking.
Maybe he could get something out of this after all. He decided to try
his luck. He extended his hand slowly, and rested it momentarily on
mystery man's warm thigh. Hmmmm. Firm and well muscled. At least the
guy
worked out. And better still, he wasn't immediately rejecting Alex's
advances. The blue eyes flickered towards Alex, momentarily surprised,
then the response came as a small, gentle smile.
Alex continued his surreptitious exploration of his companion's upper
leg, sliding up and round, rubbing gently back and forth along the inner
thigh with his thumb. He heard breath quicken and a small gasp, and gave
a predatory smile. The day had just improved a great deal. Time to rent
that Motel room.
The one they had assigned to watch him, Alex, was a warrior. Perhaps he
had even been involved in dark deeds and unethical acts. The man sensed
that such things would once have bothered him. But in truth, he felt
strangely safe when he was close to Alex. The hand on his leg was
gentle, and promised a human contact of a sort that sent a flush of
warmth through him.
There was a dangerous edge to Alex, and he was an obvious veteran of
combat. So when Alex initiated foreplay, it wasn't unwelcome. Such
things were acceptable to him. It would feel good in fact, to tire his
body with physical activity, and sleep in the arms of the handsome Alex.
And maybe it would even keep the nightmares away.
The room where the two of them were staying was an unfamiliar design to
the amnesiac. From the odd coverings on the bed to the way the water
dispenser operated in the "bathroom." In fact he found a great deal of
the world around him to be strange and alien. Disorienting. But there
was one thing about it that was comforting. Alex Krycek lounging lazily
on the bed after he had cleansed his body in the shower facility.
Wearing only a towel, the warrior projected a lazily sensual image that
sent a familiar frisson of sexual energy along the amnesiac's nerve
endings.
This he knew well. There had been an unspoken promise in Alex's eyes
when he led them into the room, shrugged off his jacket, and started to
unbuckle the straps of his prosthetic arm. Alex had challengingly stared
at him, daring him to react.
Whatever had happened to him in the past must have been horrific. The
scars on the remains of his arm suggested it had been hacked off by a
butcher. Didn't they have better technology here? Seeing no negative
reaction, Alex grinned and headed for the shower, and soon afterwards,
emerged, his skin still moistened by tiny droplets of water, his hair
slick and dark. Alex lay down on the bed and stretched his arm above his
head, parting his lips and licking them sensually, in open invitation.
In fact, the amnesiac's body was already responding to the attractive
image of Alex reclining on the bed. He felt himself becoming aroused,
and shedding the last of his clothes, he moved towards the bed, kneeling
on it, beside Alex. The green eyed man's fingers once again played
across his thigh, but this time climbed higher and grasped the velvety
heat of his semi-erect cock.
Triumphantly, Alex watched his partner's body react to the touch. It
felt good to be desired by this man. Too many men were uncomfortable
with the sight of his arm, but not the amnesiac. He was a good looking
young man too, superbly fit, now that Alex could see his body properly.
Alex decided to show his appreciation by tasting the thickening cock he
held in his hand. The younger man cried out appreciatively, and pushed
his hips forward urgently.
Alex smiled slyly, and cupped the younger man's sac in his hand,
enjoying the way its contents felt as they tightened under his touch.
Deliberately he drew the swollen head of his partner's erection into his
mouth and teased it with his tongue.
"Please.... Oh please!"
The pretty young man was barely able to hold himself back. Not
particularly experienced then, Alex mused. His own cock was a throbbing
ache but by an effort of will, he was able to restrain himself. Taking
control, he shoved his pretty conquest down onto the coverlet, and
bestrode him. An opportunity like his came too rarely in his life to
waste.
With a predatory grin, he kissed the younger man, and felt the warm
mouth yield itself up to him. Sweet tasting and opening so readily
beneath him. His bedmate seemed as desperate for contact as he was.
Alex could have done anything with him at that point. What he did do in
fact was to go down on the younger man and suck him in as strongly as he
could, grasping the base of his cock to retard orgasm. With a wail, his
lover arched up off the bed, and thrashed his had from side to side in a
vain effort to come.
"Beg for it!" Alex purred, exhilarated by the responsiveness of his
partner. He teased the small slit at the end of the younger man's cock
with his tongue. "Tell me what you want...." He teased.
"Suck me please, Alex!"
Alex was pleased to grant his wish. He sucked in the younger man so far
that he took in the full length of his erection, and applied suction to
it. His head was clutched tightly as the other man thrust into him again
and again. Finally, Alex released his tight grip on his lover's shaft,
and almost immediately the younger man came, jets of his creamy semen
hitting the back of Alex's throat.
Alex momentarily relished the taste as he swallowed, then his own body
reminded him of its needs. The younger man was so relaxed in his arms,
he felt almost boneless, a dreamy contentment in his eyes. Alex decided
that it was time for some fun of his own. He nudged apart the long, firm
legs, and knelt between them. He fondled one thigh affectionately for a
moment, then reached between them, finding the tightly puckered
opening.
Languid and unresisting, he let Alex do whatever he wanted. Alex was
experienced and knowledgeable, and seemed to understand the responses of
his body well enough to make him beg. Being enclosed in his mouth had
been like nothing else in his limited memory. It made him feel so good
that he forgot for a while the terrible emptiness inside him. Then even
that was filled by the long, hot burn of Alex slipping inside his body.
He clutched Alex to him, not wanting this to end despite the fact that
the talent of the other man was bringing him quickly to the brink again.
He came for the second time, and felt Alex shudder against him, loosing
himself into his body. At some point he heard himself cry out Alex's
name, and saw briefly a hint of pleasure in Alex's eyes at that. Alex
sagged against him tiredly, unable to support himself on his arm any
longer. He didn't mind. Alex was a warm, comfortable weight that he held
close to him, and when the older man started to move away, he was held
closely and a whispered "stay..." made him relax again. They kissed
again, tongues weaving together as they lay together contentedly,
tangled in each others arms. Both of them happy not to be alone.
And in the drifting, relaxed aftermath of pleasure he remembered
something. once he had been held like this by another. One who had
brought him such pleasure, and had called him an affectionate name.
Padawan.
He curled up next to Alex, in the dark depths of the night, and pressed
his body closer. The sleeping Alex sighed softly and allowed himself to
be drawn into the embrace. It was good for once to drift towards sleep,
knowing that he would be safe tonight. That someone else was there who
would hold him if the nightmares came. A strong arm around him, and the
memory of Alex's hard body inside him, filling up the empty places in
both mind and body.
He pondered the revelation he had experienced at the height of his
pleasure. Someone close to him, who had called him Padawan. Not a name,
but a term of affection and respect. It was still all he had of his
past. The only memory that he could claim. Who was he? What had happened
to him? He drifted off to sleep with the question uppermost in his mind,
head resting on Alex's shoulder. And for once, he didn't dream.
That had been good. Alex could still feel the relaxation that came
with good sex. And he had learned a great deal about his mystery guest
during their night together. The young man was no virgin. He had
instinctively known how to react to Alex. Though his knowledge had been
that of an enthusiastic amateur, rather than being coldly professional.
He had been tender and willing to please.
Alex wasn't used to being appreciated.
Still, despite the pretty face and the sweet ass, the Consortium would
demand that Alex got rid of him soon. A loose end that needed tying up.
Pity though. It would have been nice to keep him around a while longer.
He studied the younger man, who was braiding the strands of hair at the
side of his face in an attractive, almost Native American fashion.
He had asked Alex to call him Padawan, though he said it wasn't his
name, just a nickname. But it was the only clue he had to his identity.
Well Padawan would have to tag along on his next piece of business. Time
to see a certain doctor who was trying to renege on his obligations to
the Consortium.
"Stay in the car, Padawan!" Alex said. "You'll only get in the way!"
That was the last thing Alex had said to him before his departure.
Padawan knew it was because Alex was up to some sort of amoral activity.
Threatening someone in order to keep a secret. He had wanted to tell
Alex it was wrong, but that would have revealed his own secrets. For his
study of Alex had revealed that the inhabitants of this world did not
routinely practise this skill, despite their potential for developing
the ability.
This world? Where had that particular thought come from?
Alex's was a strange mass of contradictory impulses. The green eyed man
thought of himself as an assassin, but in reality, he was a pawn of more
powerful men, scurrying to obey their instructions at considerable
danger to himself. He thought that he was playing his own game,
manipulating them. But his efforts were like dust in the wind, a
nuisance which was barely tolerated. Not entirely honourable towards him
either, though having Alex manipulate the situation so that they could
have sex wasn't entirely unwelcome. And at his core, something lonely
and insecure. Alex was quite likeable in fact, if you could get past all
of the defences erected by years of living on the edge.
Some instinct made him banish that particular train of thought and look
towards the building which Alex had entered. A feeling of impending
danger. As if something bad was about to happen. A terrible feeling of
apprehension and oppressive terror. An urge that nudged at him almost
palpably.
Alex was in trouble! He would have to help. Despite the dubious ethics
of the situation, he couldn't let Alex be harmed. Alex was the only one
who had treated him with any consideration on this world. Even if he had
only intended a quick sexual encounter.
And besides, he liked Alex.
Alex had left his amnesiac friend outside while he kept his rendezvous
with the doctor in question, one Dr. Haines who had been studying alien
DNA and had been threatening to sell his data to a "rival concern.".
Unless his employers provided a large sum of money, that is. The good
doctor was about to be given a demonstration of how exactly the
Consortium viewed independent enterprise. Perhaps a gun in his mouth
would change his mind.
Alex readied himself, though he was not expecting much trouble from the
good doctor. They had met before on several occasions, and it was Alex's
opinion that Dr. Haines was a spineless worm. Nevertheless, Alex had his
duty to do. An if the doctor chose to ignore the warning, well then he
would become more closely acquainted with the business end of Alex's
gun.
Alex crept into the doctor's office, expecting to find him sitting
behind his desk, but found to his displeasure that the doctor apparently
wasn't there. Alex frowned. The time of their meeting had been made
quite clear to Haines and he wasn't the type to show that much courage.
If he had tried to run.....
That would be inconvenient. Alex started to search the house, just in
case the little weasel had hidden himself in the bathroom. It didn't
take him long in the end to find the doctor. He saw a foot sticking out
from behind the bed in the doctor's bedroom and when he investigated, he
saw that the man was dead, with most of his head missing. The tan carpet
was stained scarlet for a foot around his corpse, and blood was still
leaking messily from the hole.
Someone had taken care of Haines, and they had done it in the last few
minutes. Alex tensed, his gun suddenly a reassurance in his hand, and
started to turn towards the door. Too late. From the closet behind him,
a body launched itself forward and he was knocked to the floor with a
weight between his shoulder blades. A foot ground down on his wrist as a
second figure joined the first.
Alien bounty hunters!
One of them was too strong for Alex to tackle without the element of
surprise. The odds that he could get away from two, let alone consign
them to the hell they deserved..... All but impossible. Then his good
arm was wrenched back behind him and he cried out in pain.
"Where is it?" one of them hissed?
"What?" Alex gasped. "I don't understand....."
"We want the formula, human!" the second demanded. Suddenly the pressure
on his arm increased agonisingly, forcing a scream of agony from him.
"I don't know about any formulas......" Alex tried to speak.
The alien smiled grimly and increased the pressure.
When he entered the building, Padawan looked around for a weapon. This
strange new instinct was telling him to hurry, but the only thing that
seemed appropriate was a large sword that was hanging on the wall of the
plush reception area. That didn't seem quite right somehow. Shouldn't
it be glowing?
A scream from upstairs drew him onwards.
Creeping silently up the stairs, he followed the sound and peered into
the room where it originated, through the partially open door. Alex was
sprawled on the floor, helpless with two strange identical men standing
over him. Alex was white faced, and clutched his arm, moaning in pain.
The wrongness Padawan had sensed before redoubled when he looked at
Alex's twin tormentors.
"Leave him alone!" Padawan shouted. He moved into the big room, watching
his two opponents carefully.
This he knew, fighting like this. It was a part of him he had somehow
forgotten, but it felt right. Defend the innocent and do what you
believe is right. Well, even if Alex Krycek wasn't precisely innocent,
they were wrong to torture him like that.
Alex groaned, thinking him dead already. But it was a little early to
dismiss him.
Simultaneously, the two men attacked, one either side. He swiped the
sword at them, and only missed because his opponent dodged to the side
with more than human reflexes. That too was familiar.
Instinct took over again. Without thought, he let it guide him. He felt
his muscles tense, then he was leaping upwards, flying through the air,
over them, somersaulting to make his move unpredictable to them and
slashing outwards as he did so.
"The back of the neck!" Alex yelled, even as he moved. And the instinct
obeyed. The blade changed its trajectory in mid-movement, and as he flew
over them, he hit the required spot with pinpoint accuracy. He landed in
a crouch, and flipped his body immediately, so that he was facing the
other of his opponents. He was dimly aware of Alex's gasp of surprise
at his athleticism, then the second bounty hunter flung a thin blade at
him, almost too fast to see.
But not as fast as thought.
The same trustworthy instinct that he had relied upon today came to the
rescue. He reached out with his mind and caught it. Held it immobile
in mid air.
Alex sucked a breath in, disbelief and awe warring on his face. The
blade swung itself round in mid-air, as Padawan flipped it
telekinetically. Then it flew towards its owner who had turned to flee,
with stunningly precise accuracy that denoted long practice.
The instinct had brought other things with it in those final moments. He
knew now that Padawan was not a name but a title of sorts. A term of
respect and affection used by a master to his apprentice. His real name
was Obi-Wan, though he wasn't sure how he had got here, or where he was
from.
But he knew he had never seen these vile creatures before, whose bodies
were dissolving into green slime before his eyes. They felt evil though,
and that he knew.
He reached out to help Alex up, taking care to put his arm round the
other man to steady him. After a moments hesitation, Alex accepted the
support. He held his injured arm close to his body until Obi-Wan
retrieved a sling from the doctor's surgery.
"What are you?" Alex said finally, after the two of them were far away
from the scene of the crime.
"My name is Obi-Wan and I'm a Jedi Knight..." the Jedi responded.
Alex shook his head. "I don't know what that is."
"I protect the innocent....." He paused and then unhappily admitted, "I
don't remember......" He shook his head. "I knew you were in trouble. I
could feel their evil...."
Alex frowned for a moment. "You're not from round here, are you?" The
Jedi shrugged helplessly. "I wonder if it was entirely coincidence that
you were found next to that UFO."
"Are you going to tell your employers?" Obi-Wan asked.
Green eyes looked as troubled as a stormy sea. Considering it.
Alex sighed and shook his head.
"No. Not at the moment"
How the hell did he get himself into such weird situations. His lover of
the previous night had just turned out to be an alien of some kind,
though not of a type he was familiar with. He seemed friendly, and he
had fought the bounty hunting bastards with some incredible moves. Alex
had never seen anyone, even an Olympic athlete, move like that. And as
for the psychic abilities he showed.....
Maybe there was advantage in this. His employers were ignorant of this
valuable commodity, too close beneath their noses, as it were. If Alex
took on a partner, at least while his arm was out of commission..... who
among them would care.
Obi-Wan had certainly felt human enough last night. And he had tasted
good too! Alex wondered momentarily about the possibilities of unknown
alien diseases. Well if the sperm he had swallowed didn't kill him over
the next couple of days, he would probably be alright.....
Alex grinned. Well if there were any negative effects, he could arrange
for the X file to be sent to Mulder. Now THAT would make an interesting
case for the agent to solve!
In the meantime, with his wrenched arm out of commission, maybe he could
persuade Obi to help him out a little. If he couldn't use his hand, he
would have to find some other way to take care of the hardness between
his legs, that woke in him when he thought of the Jedi.
And besides, the thought of an alien going down on him had a deliciously
dangerous thrill to it.
In many ways, Alex was so outrageous. Obi-Wan supposed he really
shouldn't read the other man's mind like that, though the ability came
in rare flashes that sensed mostly emotion rather than specific
thoughts. Still, the picture of what Alex wanted him to do was
challenging, as well as appealing. He proceeded to fulfil Alex's fantasy
with enthusiasm.
End of Stranger and Lover
meg
Stranger and Lover
by Megaera
He didn't remember who he was. Or where he was from. Or how he had come
to this terrible place. Nothing in fact. There was only a dim awareness
that something very bad had happened to him. Something too terrible to
remember. If he tried really hard, he had a vague impression of fleeing,
an awful darkness, wrenching nausea, and the sense that he was falling,
falling. Nothing else.
