He had felt like a starving man invited to a feast and forced to
watch others eat. He'd met with Mulder and Krycek to discuss what
they referred to as the game. Every unconscious gesture between the
two proclaimed how successfully Walter had played cupid. It killed
him.
Walter knew it was wrong to be torturing himself with
might-have-beens when he should only have been thinking about the
deadly serious game they were playing. The covert operations they
were running against the aliens, the consortium, and even to some
extent, the alien rebels were the real war. Most of what Skinner
handled every day on this job was bullshit, unmitigated bureaucratic
bullshit. If he didn't have to stay in position to tap official
resources, he might have flushed the whole thing.
Ricky wasn't part of the covert operations. Alex had a sentimental
streak toward his young clone. He seemed to regard Ricky as a
younger brother. He wanted Ricky to keep his innocence, the
innocence that had been ripped from Alex when he was just a kid.
Walter and Mulder agreed.
Ricky wasn't even in Skinner's department. He was an intern in a
domestic terrorism. For some reason, the director wanted Ricky on a
political hot potato of a case that had just been assigned to
Mulder.
Ricky bounded in. Walter thought he resembled a Golden Retriever,
not that he was a blond, oh no. His sister, Beatrice, had a Golden
Retriever that seemed to believe it was one of her energetic kids.
When Walter visited, the dog always started with a play bow, put a
paw on his knee and gazed at him sincerely as if about to propose
marriage. If Walter encouraged the dog even slightly, it would crawl
up on the couch and present its silky belly for a rub.
Walter momentarily had a vision of Ricky offering his naked belly
for the same treatment. Shit! 'Naughty Walter, you need to get
laid." Walter chided his straying mind. He'd have to make an
appointment at the club. He was too busy for a real romance, male or
female and honesty compelled him to admit, if only to himself, that
he was not really interested.
Peel away the hate he had layered over his previous passion for Alex
and what was left was just the thwarted desire to pick up the
threads again. Walter pictured the way Mulder and Krycek had been
looking at each other and thought... 'not in this life-time'.
Ricky offered his hand, somehow overbalancing the file he held with
the other. Papers spun lazily to the floor. Ricky blushed and said,
"Oops, just a minute, sir."
Walter spotted a picture that slid under his desk and reached for
it. Ricky reached at the same time and their hands met. Ricky
blushed again and said, "Ah, yeah, that's the one I wanted Mulder to
see..."
Almost on cue, Mulder's laconic voice remarked, "Hmm, I think I
recognize those shoes. Agent Caruso? Sir, did you want me to come
back later?"
Walter managed to extricate himself despite Ricky's effort to tangle
him in a set of long, long legs. Flustered, Walter sat back behind
his desk. Ricky brushed back a straying lock of hair and muttered to
himself as he tried to put his file back in order.
Mulder looked very amused and settled in the other chair as if
getting ready to watch a comedy. Walter snapped, "Agent Mulder? Am
I entertaining you?"
Mulder at least had the courtesy to pretend to be intimidated. He
sat a little straighter and said, "No, sir."
Walter glanced at the black and white crime scene photo and winced.
The two men in the picture had been tortured. They had been left to
die of their injuries in a little traveled part of a state park not
far from where they had lived. Walter swallowed a lump in his
throat. Even in death, the two men clung together. The older, much
older lover, draped over his young sweetheart protectively, probably
trying to keep him warm.
Mulder said, "It's not an X-file. I guess the Senator must have
heard something good about me and suggested that I take the case.
The younger man was his son."
Walter nodded although it surprised him that they were willing to
use Mulder. His reputation was more often the subject of amusement
than praise. He turned to Ricky and asked, "What's the domestic
terrorism angle?"
Ricky blushed and said, "There isn't one. My boss gave the file to
me because the director seems to think I could go undercover on the
case."
Mulder looked from Walter to Ricky and said, "The director had a
good idea. I can see it. I'd be willing, but the age difference is
really better between Skinner and you, Caruso."
Walter checked the pictures again and said, "No."
Mulder said, "I'm sorry, sir, but the director wants you on the case
if I'm on it. He doesn't want any screw-ups and I guess he doesn't
trust Scully to keep me in line. He's the one that suggested you
play December in the affair. I think he initially had me in mind for
the May, but Ricky was a better thought. This way Scully and I can
skulk around on the outside, someone to watch over you two..."
Walter could have said, 'No'. He went to meet with the director
intending to say, 'No".
Correction, he could have said, 'no' and the political backwash
would have lasted for years. He heard the director say, "Solve this
case and I don't think we have to worry about Ways and Means for the
next four years."
That said without saying, that if they didn't make every effort to
bring the killer to justice, Mulder's X-Files would be the first to
go. The current administration had enough to worry about without the
cool, clear light of science shining into Mulder's spooky basement
of horrors.
Walter went home, mind racing. It was late and his bedroom was dark.
He was down to his briefs when the darkness spoke with Alex's voice.
"I know someone who can help with the case."
Alex knew someone? Of course, Alex knew someone. Didn't he always?
Walter didn't turn on the lights. He loved Alex at midnight; sleek,
nocturnal animal that he was...moonlight became him. Walter
struggled to just hear the words, but the voice beguiled, so
invitingly rough yet enticing. Something like fine whiskey...smoky,
burning, yet with an underlying smoothness that burned its way into
your veins and made your blood rush.
Alex said, "I have an old friend. He's looking for someone to lease
his cottage, but he could put it off for a while so you and Ricky
can use it as a front. It's five houses down from the home of the
murdered men. The killings are all in that community so it's
perfect."
Walter nodded. That was all that really had to be said, but he
wasn't really ready to have Alex leave. He seldom saw the man
without Mulder.
Walter thought of those clandestine meetings and secret missions; it
was the stuff of Russian novels. Mulder sprawled, legs wide open,
hair like sage honey, lips parted, sleepy eyes and silken slur of
voice discussing life, the universe, and everything. And
Alex...antithesis of his lover, dark, yes, but at those moments, his
shades were all deep velvet...seductive, enticing, and plush. Walter
closed his eyes for a moment, seeing in his mind's eye: Alex
prowling across the floor, incandescent with his dark fire. He was
like a never-ending night, a timeless space spent in some
pillow-like bed, secrets exchanged in lover's voices, pleasures that
would whisper forever in your mind. Walter between the two was
helpless with lust, sternly maintaining a façade while he pretended
to be the strong one, the logical one. Just once, damn it, just
once, Walter wanted to be whom he used to be, passionate and fierce,
a warrior, a soldier, a lover.
Alex reached out to touch him, his fingers brushing the top of
Walter's hand. He said, "Take care of Ricky, please. He's a tough
kid, but not as tough as he thinks."
Walter replied, "I will. It wasn't my idea to use him, you know."
Alex said, "I know. Hey, he's ambitious. I know he leaped at the
chance. And he's pretty comfortable with the role." Alex turned so
his profile was cameo-like against the full moon's caress. Walter
wished he could trace those lines, the elegant carving of that face.
Walter asked, "Alex, who the hell is he? Your brother?"
Alex said, "In a way, another clone...but I don't know. I feel
differently about him. When I look at him, I see myself. As if part
of me got away before the smoking bastard stole my life away."
Walter understood. He moved closer to Alex, approaching him as if to
some wounded creature, wild, feral, yet demanding his help. He
touched Alex's cheek, tipped up that delicate chin. He wanted to
kiss him and sensing that would be allowed Walter leaned closer. A
sweet, intoxicating kiss more inebriating than any wine.
Alex moved back. He said, "Mulder wouldn't like it."
Walter nodded. Alex said, "Ricky likes you. He likes you a lot. What
ever we had...don't let it stop you if it goes there. Just don't
hurt him, okay?"
Walter understood what was left unspoken, 'don't hurt Ricky as you
hurt me..."
Alex said, "And you be careful, Walter. Mulder and I need you."
When Alex left, Walter felt as if some cold void had sucked all life
from the room. He sat on the bed, bowed his head, knotted his fists
together and stared at their dim outline. His mouth tasted bitter as
if the sweet wine of that kiss was now poisoning his soul. He might
have sat there until morning, but the phone rang. It was the
director confirming that Ricky and he should go undercover promptly.
Walter explained Alex's idea, describing the cottage as belonging to
friends of a friend.
Walter sat in a flower-upholstered chair and looked around at the
cottage. It was bright, warm, and tastefully decorated. The
wallpaper was art deco, handsome velvety shades in a frame of
expensive wood. The furniture was comfortable and fit Walter's large
frame very well. No surprise, the younger of this pair looked as if
he had been a big man before cancer ate him from within. Right now,
he sat with an oxygen tank close at hand, an occasional grimace
crossing his face. His older companion held his hand, brown eyes
misted as watched his lover suffer. Mr. Huntington gestured at their
surroundings. He said, "Since David and I need to be away, I felt it
proper to offer this residence for your operation. I'm a friend of
Senator Fielding and I knew his son. I was the first person he told
when he decided to come out. David and I helped Lee and Paul plan
their commitment ceremony. I knew two of the other four victims.
This is one little thing that I can do to stop the monster that is
preying on my community."
Mr. Huntington gazed at Ricky, who was perched on the edge of his
chair, big green eyes blazing in his serious face. The seamed old
lips parted in a sigh. He said, "Beautiful."
Walter flinched. He agreed with the old man. The director had no
idea how hard it was going to be to have to share a bed with Ricky
Caruso. The man looked the image of Alex Krycek when he'd been an
agent under Walter's command. He looked like Walter's sweet young
lover whom he had rejected to chase the will-o- the-wisp that his
reconciliation with Sharon had turned out to be. Posing as
May-December lovers in this mostly gay artist's colony was going to
hurt like hell...every moment reminding Walter of what had once been
his and what he longed to taste again.
Ricky bounced up, wandering around a little. He was coltish; you
wanted to move breakables out of his way. He moved to the window,
staring out at the garden. "Pretty." He said. "I used to help my mom
in her garden. Do you have someone in or do you want me to take care
of it?"
Huntington asked, "Do you really want to work on it?"
Ricky smiled and nodded. He stretched, his suit threatened by the
swell of his muscles. Enviously he said, "Man, I'd love to have a
place like this. I'm so tired of apartments!"
Huntington said, "Well, we are thinking of leasing it...perhaps
selling it. Only to the right person, of course."
Ricky sighed, his heart shaped lips parting softly with the puff of
air. His velvet lashes slowly lowered and as slowly rose. Ricky
said, "Yeah, I'd love it, but I'm lucky to afford the place I have
now."
In that moment, Walter wanted to buy him the house, offer him the
moon, anything. The words were out of his lips before he had a
second thought. "I might be interested in buying. I'm tired of my
apartment."
The handsome, haggard Mr. Huntingdon said, "That's very good. And
there's plenty of room for two. Here, let me show you around."
Leaning down, Huntingdon kissed the silver hair, brushing aside a
reckless strand. "I'll be right back, Tony. Ring the buzzer if you
need me sooner."
Walter sighed as he saw for one moment the beauty behind the papyrus
skin and pain-filled green eyes. Huntington said, "Tony and I have
been together since a few years after World War Two. Almost sixty
years, not many couples can claim that."
Walter nodded, wistful thoughts passing through his head. Huntington
said, " I remember the first time I saw him, those shoulders
bunching beneath his tight tee shirt... It was at a minor league
baseball game. He hit a home run and ran like a deer. I fell in love
right there. However, I courted him for two years before he realized
that I wanted more than just his friendship; another year after
that, before he realized that he wasn't afraid to try what I
offered. I have no regrets. He's worth every moment."
Walter saw Ricky's face, curious, unashamedly wanting. He brushed
the young agent's elbow and said, "Agent Caruso? Excuse me."
Ricky realized he was blocking the doorway and moved on. They
entered a hallway and from there moved into a room with a vaulted
ceiling. It was a large bedroom. An alcove with a window seat
created a private space out of ornately framed stained glass
windows. Beyond that, a sliding glass door led out into a
courtyard. The king sized bed was massive. Walter thought it was big
enough for three men; briefly flashing on whom he would want the
other two to be.
Ricky said, "Wow, damn, that's an incredible bed."
Huntington said, "Custom made. Haven't been sleeping here lately.
Tony needs a medical bed and I can't bear to sleep apart from him.
We've been using the other bedroom. Come through here and see my
masterpiece."
Walter thought it was decadent...delicious and frivolous and
wonderful. It was a bathroom fit for a Roman orgy or the seduction
of a vestal virgin. A whirlpool bath stood surrounded by curving
walls. A large skylight above nourished an abundance of plants.
Stairs surrounded it so a man could sit there, dabble and play with
someone in the tub. Not that there wasn't plenty of room for two to
bathe in the Jacuzzi. Walter had never seen such a large spa.
The more prosaic features were slightly separate, but they all
matched the jade marble finish of the spa. Walter said, "This is
incredible."
Huntington said, "I like to indulge myself and Tony. It hasn't
always been easy for us."
Walter nodded. Caruso was kneeling on the stairs, peering into the
tub. He said, "You really won't mind us using this tub?"
Huntington laughed quietly and said, "I only regret not seeing you,
young man. If I was sixty years younger and if I wasn't still as
madly in love with Tony as I was from the first time that I saw
him..."
The rest of the cottage consisted of a cheerful kitchen, a sunroom
converted into a dining room, and the smaller bedroom, currently
furnished with a large hospital bed. Huntington said, "I'll have
that moved out later. Tony and I...won't be coming back after this
cruise. If you do decide to buy it, I'd appreciate it if you kept
the other furniture. Most of it was made for this house or collected
to suit our tastes."
Walter said, "I won't change a thing if I can afford it."
Huntington smiled and said, "Really, Mr. Skinner, you'd be
surprised. It was all paid for long ago when the dollar could buy
more. Your young man would look as beautiful as my Tony in this
setting. I would be honored to think that this cottage would again
hold such beauty."
Somehow Walter couldn't explain that Ricky and he weren't a real
couple...it seemed to give Huntingdon such pleasure to think they
were. As he took down the contact information, he saw Ricky wheeling
Tony Edwards-Huntington in the garden. They seemed lost in
conversation. Caruso was easy to talk to. Much as Alex had been when
he first played his rookie role in those bygone days.
Two days later, Walter met Ricky at his apartment, a place hardly
worthy of the name. It was a little larger than a housekeeping room,
but not much. The rug smelled of pesticide and old urine; the
hallway reeked of greasy cooking. Ricky looked embarrassed and said,
"Well, I'm out of here regardless. I decided not to renew again.
I'll stay with ...a friend if I can't find some place better."
Walter found himself saying, "You could rent that spare room. I've
pretty much decided to buy the cottage. Huntington is all but giving
it away."
Ricky said, "I know. Um, this cruise, I don't think that they're
coming back."
Walter said, "I know. I assume that Huntington will want a place
near the hospital."
Ricky shrugged and said, "I don't think so. The way Tony was
talking...they just sail on and one day, well, they take their boat
out and ...you know."
Walter stared and said, "He told you that?"
Ricky said, "Not exactly, but hey, if it was me...if I loved someone
like that."
Walter shook his head. Ricky had some of Alex's situational
morals... but perhaps he was right. If the two men didn't want to
part, then he wouldn't stand in the way of their lover's pact. He
grabbed a box of assorted sports equipment and walked out to the
car.
Ricky's boxes provided a natural activity to catch a watchers
interest. Neighbors dropped by at intervals; a lovely pair of women,
Audra and Natalie Moore strolled by with a delightful curly haired
toddler in tow. The little boy took to Ricky instantly, chubby,
grubby hands further mussing the young man's chestnut hair. Both
women were in their mid-thirties and elegant, one light and the
other dark. Natalie had a mass of honey colored curls of her own.
She was winsomely plumb and very vivacious. Audra was black haired,
slender and tall, with an old fashioned elegant carriage that made
her seem older than her smooth olive complexion suggested.
Audra warned them about the serial killer adding that, so far, the
killer had chosen couples that were further apart in age.
Walter gravely listened to Audra while Ricky played with the little
boy and chattered with Natalie. They could compare notes later.
Audra was an interior designer while Natalie was a photographer.
Walter wasn't surprised to hear from Ricky that Natalie wanted to
use him as a subject. Both Alex and Ricky photographed well. The
women walked on after inviting Walter and Ricky to a neighborhood
watch meeting with the police the day after tomorrow.
Everything settled in place; Ricky and Walter moved back outside.
Ricky had on shorts. Cutoffs. His legs sprawled across a length of
garden as he relaxed on the bench in the courtyard. He had lemonade
in hand and ran the frosted rim of the glass over his pink and
sensuous mouth. "Mmm, this is the life!" Ricky remarked.
Walter's eyes followed a drop of condensation down the pillar of
throat, curving off at the Adam's apple, slithering as if it lusted
for the flesh it explored. Ricky reached up, a finger dabbing up the
drop. His legs sprawled further apart, revealing that one of the
frayed ends was ripping yet higher. Walter's eye traced the tear
until his eyes hit the pale glistening hint of Ricky's inner thighs.
Ricky spread his legs languidly, one hand curved gracefully over his
roundly muscled leg.
Sourly, Walter grimaced and remarked, "Don't get too used to it,
Ricky." More civilly, Walter added, " I'm going to make dinner."
Ricky asked, "Want help? I could manage a salad or something."
Walter said, "No, stay out. I can take care of it."
Ricky ate as if it was his last meal. No one had worked on his
manners and he ate with a robust carelessness very different from
the polish that someone had drilled into Alex. The Beef Wellington
might as well have been a hamburger on a bun for all the time it
took for the young man to devour it. However, Ricky made
appreciative noises and said, "Sir, if it was allowed in this
country, I'd propose marriage on the spot. Wow, I used to think I
was doing well if I got the gourmet kind of frozen dinners. Of
course, Alex can cook. He ever cook for you?"
So Ricky didn't want to play a game and pretend the other was not
well acquainted with Mulder and Alex Krycek. Walter said, "A time or
two."
Ricky said, "He's a good cook. Good at most things, I guess. Not
that I'd trade lives with him even if it meant..." Ricky smirked and
said, "'Having all the good men' to misquote Conner MacLeod."
Walter sighed. Not Ricky too. Mulder and Krycek were always laughing
over the television series and making jokes about taking each
other's heads. Walter couldn't understand it himself. He didn't mind
a little swashbuckling, but he preferred a classic Errol Flynn or
the Three Musketeers.
Ricky stood up and said, "I'll do the dishes. You cooked."
Walter stepped outside for a while. He knew Mulder was watching out
there and he suspected that Alex was as well. Hopefully, their
arrival was noted by whoever was killing happy couples in this
formerly Elysian community. They matched the profile as if it was
designed for them. Older men, powerful men with an air of authority
and well exercised bodies. Younger, beautiful men as lovers...
The killer, he decided, was not just homophobic. He was picking and
choosing his victims with care. He drugged them first. Each had been
gone for more than a day before they were found dead. The couples
were dumped alive although none had lived long enough to tell
anything about their killer. Despite the torture, the killer left
the faces untouched and the genitals intact. The men were always
arranged tenderly. Some obviously had been clinging to each other in
the final moments, but others must have been placed in the loving
positions in which they were found, hands joined, younger man's head
cradled against older man's chest. It reminded Walter of something,
but the subtext eluded him.
About to go in, Walter was surprised to feel warm arms embrace him.
Ricky pressed his freshly shaven cheek against Walter's rough one
and said, "You should kiss me out here."
Walter stood suddenly, having to catch Ricky when he threw him off
balance. "What?" Walter demanded, sounding like a nervous virgin.
Ricky said, "You know, if he's watching and he's looking for a
loving pair, you had better show some tenderness, sir."
Walter knew that was the truth. Hesitantly, he touched Ricky's hair.
Ricky embraced him, leaning closer, nuzzling Walter's throat. Ricky
looked up and his voice sounded like Alex's, sounded like it was
fresh from some heated bed, rough from moans of pleasure and screams
of delight. The contented sigh Ricky made when Walter's arms drew
him close was exactly the same sound Alex made when they kissed
after closing some door behind them.
There were differences. Ricky was not as yielding. His kiss was
questing, demanding from the first. Walter finally struggled away
from the pleasure and looked at Ricky's kiss reddened mouth, the
shine of arousal in his eyes.
Ricky laughed shakily and said, "Well, that ought to fool them."
Walter couldn't laugh. He was fighting back the urge to drag Ricky
into the house. To peel those shreds of denim from his lithe body
and plunder his treasures with greedy abandon.
Ricky held out his hand and said, "If we were lovers, you'd take my
hand and we'd walk toward the door..."
Walter found himself obeying. Ricky paused in the open doorway. The
play of light and shade suited his features...Da Vinci would have
loved to paint him. Ricky looked at him; malachite eyes in an ivory
face. Ricky said, "We would kiss here."
Walter leaned on the doorway and kissed Ricky; he loved to frame
that face with his hands, feeling huge and crude, a beast to his
beauty. No, that was Alex. He needed to remember that, what ever
happened. He brushed back the dark chestnut hair, traced the winged
brows. Ricky turned to kiss his hand.
Ricky said, "I want you."
Walter knew one thousand reasons why he should not do this and he
knew that he would eventually give into Ricky's beauty. Still
fighting temptation, Walter said, "It's not going to happen."
Ricky asked, "Why not?"
Walter said, "Because you are a rookie agent and I'm an AD."
Ricky said, "That's not a good reason." He stomped away. Walter
locked up and noted Ricky scowling and sprawled on the couch. He was
watching some show involving squealing tires and gunshots. Walter
picked up a book, "Beloved and God: The Story of Hadrian and
Antinous"
Walter was pages into the book before he finally realized that he
was reading about a passionate love affair between a youth and the
Emperor Hadrian. Great. Wonderful choice. He kept reading though; he
hadn't seen this before and he enjoyed history. Hmm, well, maybe
Ricky wasn't all that young after all. Antinous was beautiful.
Walter wondered if the youth had been murdered? The writer didn't
think so, saying he had no enemies. The investigator in Walter
snorted at that. That's what people said in a hell of a lot of
murder cases. Show him a person who had no enemies and Walter was
sure he'd be at his or her funeral.
Ricky came strolling in. Nude. Wet. Not even a towel. Walter was
wearing sweat pants worn comfortable and thin with time. He was
bare-chested. He never could stand to sleep with anything on his
chest...unless it was a lover's head pillowed there.
Walter said steadily, "If you forgot pajamas, I could loan you
something."
Ricky posed at the window. He was pale, of course. Fair skinned like
Alex. His white skin looked as marble-like as the statue of the
beautiful Antinous. The night sky was the perfect backdrop. Ricky
said, "I don't wear anything to sleep. Pajamas make me itchy."
Walter wished there was still a bed in the other room. The couch was
comfortable, but if anyone was watching they might notice that the
lovers slept apart. Walter could see the stubborn set in Ricky's
chin and the glint in his eyes. All right. He could ignore it.
Walter set aside his reading glasses atop the book. He switched off
the Tiffany lamp on the antique bed stand and rolled over facing
away from Ricky.
Ricky muttered something scatological and got into the opposite
side. He turned off his matching lamp and said, "You can at least
say good night."
Walter smiled, feeling that he had won this round. He said, "Good
Night, Ricky."
Ricky seemed to have forgotten his peevishness in the morning. He
downed a bowl of oatmeal with apparent enjoyment and finished
unpacking his boxes. Walter regretted his offer of a room. What had
he been thinking? The only way he could get out of it was to not buy
the cottage. And really, he hardly wanted to do that. The price
Huntington had quoted may have been what he had paid, but on today's
market, it wouldn't buy a condo in a tenement.
Ricky said, "Sir, look. About last night..."
Walter said, "Forget it."
Ricky said, "Not what I intended at all. I just meant to say that I
haven't changed my mind."
Ricky was wearing even scantier cutoffs than yesterday. He stood,
sans shirt and in those obscenely tight denim scraps. He said, "No
strings, Walter. Where would I hide them? Come on. Relax. It doesn't
have to be complicated."
Walter wasn't a saint or monk. He examined his conscience and
shrugged it away. He said, "Maybe. Just maybe. But it can't get in
the way of our work, Ricky."
Ricky held out his hand and said, "Deal."
When Walter took the hand, Ricky pulled him close and wrapped around
him. Walter took control of the kiss. Tempting to just drag the
young beauty back to the playing field of that vast and comfortable
bed. Walter grabbed for a shred of discipline, swatted Ricky on the
ass, and said, "Tonight. We have work to do. Being seen. Right?"
So they made rounds of the suburb. Went and enrolled at the gym.
They were given the tour and then left to enjoy the well-equipped
gym. Ricky went to the free weights. Walter observed briefly then
corrected his grip and stance. Ricky grunted, reminding Walter that
this wasn't Alex. Even before Alex lost his baby soft looks, running
from everyone and everything, he had always been extremely fit.
Ricky was lithe and, of course, active but he needed to develop a
little more to fill in the gawky places.
After the gym, they had an invitation to lunch with the Moore women.
Not at their house. The women had laudable caution. They met at a
sidewalk café that served excellent hearty soups and salads, hunks
of freshly baked breads, steaming on the side. Walter let Ricky
handle the social chatter. He was watching, looking for the patterns
and flows of the community. The murderer was someone who had many
chances to observe his victims. Walter looked for someone who might
have access to the victim's home. Someone who no one would be
surprised to see in all sorts of place.
Audra mentioned one possibility. She had been discussing the
murders, an amateur sleuth of sorts. She pointed at a grocery
delivery truck and said, "See, he could be one of those delivery
men. That store delivers to half the people in this community. He
could case the houses, gain the victim's trust and..."
Her partner looked amused. She said, "Audra is a mystery buff, you
know. We met at one of those events where you enact a murder
mystery. I was with a friend who was mad about the things. Of
course, she was the first victim and had to spend the rest of the
weekend over at a different bed and breakfast. Natalie laughed and
said, "Audra came back and questioned me four times before asking me
to dinner. Someone else solved the mystery, but we were the ones
that really won the prize."
The women clasped hands; affectionate looks exchanged across the
table. Walter smiled at them. Natalie asked, "And how did you two
meet?"
Ricky said, "Oh, we work together. Haven't come out there yet; it's
not that kind of place. No personal lives allowed. But one advantage
is that no one socializes out of work very much so we thought that
we could have a home where we could relax and fit in."
Audrey said, "Well, as soon as this killer is caught, you'll be able
to relax." She smiled and said, "We have to pick Matthew up from
Montessori school. Now, don't forget about that meeting tomorrow."
The rest of the day was spent in mock indolence. They chatted, sat
and read newspapers, listening to undercurrents. Drank espresso
until their bladders threatened to give out. Of course, everyone was
talking about the murders, but Walter didn't hear any real hints
that anyone knew who was doing it.
When they finally went back to the house, both men ended up in that
lovely garden again. Ricky was befriending a feathered resident, an
Oriole Tony Edwards had raised from a naked foundling. The bird was
interested in the crumbs of bread with which Ricky enticed it. It
was just a little nervous, bright black eyes jittering from cocked
head.
Ricky threw the rest of the bread and then sprawled again. Walter
took his qualms and shoved them into a locked drawer of his
subconscious. He put an arm around Ricky and felt the warm supple
body mold into his.
Walter asked, "Are you certain that this is what you want? You're
very young, Ricky."
Ricky guided Walter's hand to his tightly clad crotch. Walter felt
the heat and the straining even against the harsh boundary of the
cutoffs. "Yeah, I may be young, but I'm not that innocent."
Ricky stood up and held out his hand again. This time Walter pulled
him close and set out to kiss the ambient temperature to Sahara
gradients.
Ricky shut the door behind him and locked it carefully. He smiled
again and said, "I hope that madman doesn't plan on making a try for
us tonight."
Walter said, "I'll protect you." And laughed harshly at his words.
He hadn't been able to protect them before. Couldn't help Alex.
Couldn't stop them from taking Scully. He couldn't stop Spender from
playing cat to Mulder's mouse. But he tried and he always hoped he
would succeed some day. Put the right sword in his hand and he would
be the knight to stand fast before the darkness.
Ricky walked to the bedroom and turned again. He said, "Not much to
take off me, but do you want to undress me?"
Walter nodded. He gently undid the button, brushed the little
indentation between navel and groin. Alex liked it when he kissed
him there. Ricky shuddered and said, "Yeah, that's nice."
Ricky wasn't wearing underwear, no room under those skin-tight
shorts. Walter eased them down. Ricky kicked off his battered
running shoes and he was naked, perfect, strong chest, smooth
pectorals, slim waist, and legs that made Walter want to kiss every
inch of them. Walter groaned as Ricky returned the favor, removing
Walter's more substantial clothing, jeans and an old white shirt.
Ricky ran his hands over Walter's chest, tangling his hands in the
thick fur. He kneaded Walter's muscles in admiration and said,
"Damn, you do work out."
Walter said, "I have a lot of frustrations I take out in the gym."
Ricky said, "I might be able to help you with those." Ricky reddened
a little and said, "Um, I haven't done a lot with guys. Only let one
guy inside me. Only trusted one enough."
Walter said, "That's all right; I don't need that." Walter hesitated
and then asked, "Mulder?"
Ricky reddened more and said, "Alex. I trusted him."
Walter nodded. There was an awkward moment as they lay down and
turned to each other. Finally, Ricky broke the impasse, scooting
forward into Walter's arms. He said, "I like to be kissed all over.
How about you? Anything you don't like?"
Walter said, "Lot's of things, Ricky, but none that you probably
know about. I like kissing too."
Ricky was apple pie; Walter decided. Spicy, sweet and wholesome. He
wasn't Alex, but he was dear and delicious. He certainly did enjoy
kissing and he was even more oral than Alex. He had the recovery of
a twenty year old, which was a good thing. Walter had just been
stroking him while they kissed. The substantial cock had shuddered
and Ricky gasped as he came over Walter's hand and his stomach.
Ricky said, "Whoops."
Walter said, "I'm glad that I excite you so much."
Ricky said, "Oh, yeah, you do. It feels different. I mean, Alex and
Mulder...we're all, you know, like peas in a pod. Well, I know that
sounds stupid, but even Mulder seems like part of Alex when we do
it. You definitely aren't part of me. You are big, solid, strong,
and fucking beautiful."
Walter was amused. He said, "You and Alex must have the same odd
gene. He was always saying that too. I don't see it."
Ricky said, "Mmm, like one of those big horses the knights used to
ride."
Ricky slithered down Walter's chest, a kiss, a lick, a nibble,
tracing his way. He nuzzled Walter's cock before taking the head in
his mouth. Walter groaned at the touch, moving up to lie back
against the pillow. He always liked to watch his partner do this.
Walter could feel the silken hair brushing his thighs; Ricky's face
was dazzled with lust; eyes heavy lidded and face a pretty rose
color with the heat of his actions. Ricky teased his slit before
running his tongue under the heavy head to play with the shaft. He
said, "Mmmm. Mmmm." Walter loved that, the buzz on his sensitive
flesh making him harder yet.
Ricky took him in his mouth, moving faster. Walter restrained him
self, giving all the control to his lover. He dug his hands into the
bedding as Ricky allowed him deep. His heart was racing. It felt
like liquid fire running through him, overwhelming him, blotting out
the world. Walter heard his voice gasp, "Ricky, ah, Ricky." Before
the scarlet rush took him away for a few minutes.
Walter opened his eyes, finding Ricky's face inches from his face,
cat-curious. Ricky leaned down and kissed him as soon as Walter
stopped gasping. Ricky said, sounding pleased with himself, "Not bad
for amateur night."
Walter said, "Very, very good, Ricky."
It took a little leverage to flip Ricky over to ravage his lips,
mark his neck savagely, and then tease each nipple into crimson
peaks. Walter took Ricky all the way in and worked him until the
hips thrust hard at him.
Walter stood up; he had brought lube and condoms so maybe he always
planned this. Either that or he hoped the fuck fairy was late coming
for his wisdom teeth.
Ricky looked at the things and his eyelashes veiled his green eyes.
The lips parted, but he didn't say, 'No'
Walter said, "I don't do this for everyone either. Just a few times.
Even for Alex, just two times, but I'm good at it. Or so I'm told."
Ricky understood. He took the supplies and laid them aside. Walter
wanted to see Ricky; wanted to watch that beautiful face wild with
passion. He said, "Do you need help? Know what to do?"
Ricky nodded and said, "Mulder likes it as much as Alex does."
Walter winced at that. Jealous. He had no wonder that the two let
Ricky inside while they kept him out. Mulder wouldn't be able to
resist this beauty that looked like his lost love. As for Alex,
well, maybe this other self intrigued him.
Ricky whispered, "Maybe they just didn't think I was enough to
threaten their relationship as you would?"
Had Walter said anything aloud? He didn't think so. Ricky just had
that same preternatural awareness that Alex had. Walter said, "It
doesn't matter."
Ricky bent over him, teasing him back from his satiated collapse
before settling Walter's legs over his shoulders. Walter felt the
slide of a finger inside him. His entire body heated, quickened with
anticipation. He willed Alex away. This was Ricky and Walter wanted
to show him that he wasn't just a taker. As much as he would like to
get inside Ricky, he could wait and in the meantime, this was bliss.
There was just a whisper of pain as Ricky stretched him. Walter was
surprised to find himself hot, hard, sweating with anticipation.
Ricky groaned deeply as he pushed slowly into Walter.
Ricky was bowed over him; his fingers white on Walter's sides. His
mouth was open, panting as he thrust. Walter felt that first
implosion of feeling. It was not only the sensation of Ricky's cock
finding that spot within him. It was the connection...feeling as if
they had merged into one achingly yearning creature, hurling in all
this fiery flesh closer and closer to some penultimate goal. Walter
heard his own voice, barely recognizable as he pleaded madly for
Ricky to move faster, to surge deeper with him. They grasped at each
other, needing so desperately to connect, to find one being out of
their incomplete souls. The sound that rang from their throats as
first one burst over the edge and then the other was not only
pleasure; it rang hollow...one being separating into two.
Walter found himself holding Ricky, sweat damp, breathing like a
marathon runner, hair plastered to his face and eyes like green
fire, burning even from beneath the half closed eyes. He swept the
wild locks of hair aside from the heated forehead. He nuzzled his
way down and found the lips he loved to kiss. Sighing, they lay
together, errant caresses lazily defining territory of each other's
flesh.
The bath finally drew them from the post coital indolence. A quick
shower in the over sized stall sluiced away the effluvia of their
sexual play before they entered the mammoth bath. Walter sprawled
back, feeling as if he was dissolving in the caressing currents of
the spa. One of Ricky's long legs invaded his space; a toe stroked
the inside of his thigh. Walter caught the foot and said, "No use
nudging...it's dead."
Ricky said, "I believe in resurrection, Walter."
Walter laughed and rubbed the foot, pressed a kiss on the sole. He
played with the toes before tickling the foot until Ricky pulled it
back. Ricky sighed and said, "That was good. Next time, you can do
that to me."
Walter said, "It's not tit for tat, Ricky. I wanted you that way."
Ricky said, "Well, me too...I just needed to know if I could trust
you. I don't want to spoil that for myself. Alex says that if the
other guy does it wrong that it hurts. I don't like pain. Alex
does, at least a little, I think. But not me. I'm not a complicated
guy."
Walter said, "You don't have to be. You know I shouldn't be doing
this."
Ricky said, "Fuck "should" I wasn't getting anywhere with all my
should do and shouldn't have done. This was good. I promise you I
won't fall in love with you or cause you any problems. I like you. I
like your big strong body. I like the way you make love to me."
Walter nodded in agreement and sighed. If he didn't get out of this
warm, comforting bath, he was going to fall asleep. He got up,
drowsily remade the ravished bed and lay down. Ricky snuggled close;
face pressed between his shoulder and neck, a claiming arm around
his body and soon subsided into deep untroubled breaths. Walter lay
awake, his eyes open to the darkness. So close, so beautiful and
never enough....someone else...a man who lived edged in darkness,
but he was no demon for all he had done.
Walter overslept, a crime of which he was seldom guilty. The bed was
cool beside him. After a shower and a badly needed shave, Walter
made his way to the kitchen to find Ricky laying bacon strips next
to sunny side up eggs. Ricky looked up with a smile. He said, "Hey,
want to make some toast? I want to try out the juicer."
Walter shrugged. What the hell...may as well abandon all the
strictures in which he bound his life...he'd do his penance later.
Walter and Ricky spent the day much as they did the day before. The
tennis court, a local café, several small shops...Walter's
well-trained eyes looked for any unusual interest, but spotted none.
That was no surprise. Many serial killers masqueraded so well that
even wives and lovers didn't realize what kind of beast they slept
with every night. It could be anyone...the over-eager sales clerk at
the pottery store or the scowling muscle man posing at the
park...less likely given that most serial killers were white males,
but still it could have been the agile woman who trounced Ricky so
thoroughly on the court that he returned to Walter's side, muttering
about being tired from the night before.
As Ricky relaxed, Walter was amused to find out that the seemingly
diffident agent had a smart mouth when pressed. He was clever,
brash, and very naïve in his way. Ricky was Alex with none of the
baggage and twice the energy. He was still coltish, long legs and
long arms not quite so smoothly developed, but the ass must have
been nature's gift because Walter was not the only person male or
female who had a constant eye on it.
Ricky had inveigled a game of basketball. Walter stretched for a
while and did some shadow boxing before contenting himself with
being a spectator. Ricky was good, very competitive and ruthless in
his play. Walter didn't get up from his shady knoll when Ricky had
won. He watched as a moderately good looking man with a bland face
and thinning dishwater blond hair circled Ricky like a lion seeking
prey. Walter snorted. That trim body was developed at a gym. If he
stopped, no doubt it would soften quickly. Walter shrugged feeling
the heavy roll of his considerable muscle. He was proud of his body;
nature had provided the template and will had completed the picture
with brawn that came from his varied labors and sports. It would
have taken deliberate indulgence and abuse to ruin his alpha male
physique.
Walter waited to see how Ricky would deal with the heavy-handed pick
up techniques of the cruising blond. Ricky's lips curved in a smile
as he listened to the man drop car, club, job, and other brags.
Ricky said, "Excuse me. I'm with someone."
Ricky bounded over and threw his sweaty, testosterone rich body down
next to Walter. The blond followed and said with an incredulous
sneer, "That old man? You can do better."
Ricky smirked and said, "Not from where I'm lying." Ricky reached
out and patted Walter's groin. "If I'm with a man, I want him to be
a real man." The blond huffed off. Ricky waited until even Superman
would have had to strain to hear him. "Hmm, think that could be
him?"
Walter couldn't resist a swat on the teasing ass that wiggled beside
him. He said, "Could be, but I doubt it. The one that we want has
intense feelings about the older man, younger man pairing. Although
he's killing the couples, he also is enshrining them. That guy just
saw the age difference."
Ricky said, "Ha, he should have seen you last night."
Walter smiled, but only replied, "You need a shower, Ricky. The
meeting Audra and Natalie spoke to us about is two hours from now.
And we'll want dinner before we go."
The meeting room at the library was full. Walter and Ricky ended up
standing. That suited Walter anyway. He bet the killer was among the
people here. Serial killers often played cat and mouse games with
the police. They saw themselves as supernatural figures, above being
caught by mere mortals. He looked carefully at expressions and knew
Ricky was doing the same. He assumed that Mulder and Alex were also
watching from some hidden place. Ricky's hand crept into his as
Audra Moore stood up to speak.
Walter diverted a little attention to hear his neighbor speak. Her
questions were to the point and her demands for increased police
attention were reasonable. Of course, she didn't know about the FBI
investigation. The room applauded as Audra sat down. A few other
people spoke.
The police spokesman was nervous. He kept pulling at his collar and
fidgeting with the microphone. He was definitely not at ease with
the issues here. Of course, the question of hate crimes was raised.
Walter dismissed that. No, these crimes were more than hate. It was
an elaborate and twisted play for the person who perpetuated the
murders. For all Walter knew, the murderer could also be gay.
Walter and Ricky stayed to the end, covering their vigilance by
helping to fold up the extra chairs in the meeting room. The Moore
family also lingered. Audra seemed quite the community organizer.
Walter complimented her on her questions and said, "Have you thought
about running for the city council?"
Audra nodded and said, "I've just started putting together a
campaign. Much as I abhor the vacuous discharge of politicians, this
community should be represented. For example, couldn't they have
sent someone more confident over to speak?"
Chatting led to dinner and then to a nightclub. The place was
tasteful. Lots of couples of either and any gender. No obvious
groping although no one blinked at kisses exchanged between the same
sex pairs. Ricky wanted to dance and pulled Walter onto the floor.
He moved well; hints of future grace in his choreography. It had
been years since Walter had taken a chance like this, dancing with a
man in public. Of course this was in the line of duty...
After saying good night to the women, Walter and Ricky drove home.
Ricky stayed behind the wheel and said, "I have to get some snacks.
Do you want anything?"
Walter said, "No, but be careful, Ricky. We really don't know how
the couples were taken. It could well have been separately."
Ricky shrugged and said blithely, "I can take care of myself,
Walter. Don't worry."
Walter moved out into the garden, feeling adrift and unsatisfied. He
rubbed his temples; it had been a long day and tense with the
watching. He sat on the bench, drowsy until he heard a noise.
Walter thought it was Ricky at first, thought that Ricky had
forgotten something. Ricky was a little on the absent minded side in
everyday things. But no, Ricky didn't wear the darkness like a
velvet cloak. Ricky did not glide like a panther out of the shadows.
It was Alex.
Alex tilted his chin at the door and said, "Better go in."
Alex wore his dangerous face. The one that Walter still saw in
nightmares. Walter checked the man's hand. He was relieved to see
neither gun nor a reemergence of the palm pilot that controlled the
nanocytes. Although Alex had assured him that they were gone and
that he had destroyed the science that developed them, Walter still
felt some fear that it was all a trick.
Alex moved to the shadows in the comfortable room. Walter followed.
He said, "You shouldn't be here."
Alex said, "I've been watching. I was watching last night."
Walter blushed. The heat ran through him no matter how foolish it
was. He knew that Alex had no cause to be jealous. He had Mulder and
why would he need someone like Walter, who knew he was not beautiful
like his extremely difficult and attractive agent? Walter said, "You
know that Ricky and I are playing a role here."
Alex hissed, so dangerous, so feral, so incredibly fascinating,
"Playing it to the hilt, are you?" And that green venomous gaze
turned its fire and ice focus right at Walter's groin.
Walter said, "I won't hurt him." He left unspoken the words, 'As we
did each other.'
Alex turned away; his profile was cool and sharp, distantly lovely,
a cameo cut against the dark skyline. Alex said softly, "He's not
me. If you care about him, remember that..."
Irresistible, Walter stepped forward, was drawn closer and closer, a
bird fascinated by a serpent, a moth to the flame. He stretched his
fingers toward this icon of his desire. Touched flesh, which was
neither fire nor ice. Just a man. Alex allowed the touch, turned
toward Walter with his old expression, longing, fear, the
expectation of pain.
Walter helplessly drew Alex into his arms. He always wanted to
shelter him there when they were lovers. Somehow he always knew that
something was wrong, terribly wrong in his young agent's life, with
his beautiful darling.
Walter tilted up the chin. Sharp little chin...delicately he traced
the line of the jaw until he stroked a finger underside the full
under-lip. He thought of Mulder, hard to think of one without the
other. Mulder's lip was plump and heavy, like fruit hanging ripe on
the vine. Alex's lips were like cherry blossoms, ephemeral and
lovely, sweeter for all the transitory nature.
And thinking of cherry blossoms, Walter had to ravish that lip, to
crush its delicate beauty beneath his profaning mouth.
Alex pressed against him, his body speaking a language Walter could
hardly forget. Walter said, "There's never a day that I don't think
about you, you know. Sometimes I wake up and I can taste you. I feel
you like...like something missing; a phantom part of my soul."
Alex withdrew a little. He looked at Walter with a hard expression,
apparently thinking that Walter was mocking him. Walter hung his
head, 'Good going, Walter, learned that in all those human resource
classes, did you?'
Walter said, "I wasn't thinking, Alex. I'm sorry, but it is how I
feel."
Alex's lip twisted in that blade of a smile, an expression that went
sharp and deep into Walter's heart. He said, "And when did you
discover I was your missing soul, Walter? When I had to run from you
and Mulder? When the two of you bought Spender's cute little trick
with the cigarettes? When I played a cowardly goon, pounding on your
helpless body in that stairwell? When you beat me in your apartment?
Or maybe when I held your life in my hands, huh? You a masochist,
Walter?"
Just to shut him up, to stem the flow of the acidic words, Walter
surrounded that face in his strong hands, captured his lips all over
again. He felt Alex's hand on the back of his neck, holding on to
him desperately for a long moment.
Alex pushed him away. Walter felt the hard thrust of Alex's
desecrated arm. Alex's lips were open and glistened, shiny with the
effects of their lust. His eyes were wild, showing their whites,
pupils huge. His face was flushed, burning. Alex said, "I can't,
Walter. God damn it. I can murder, cheat, spy, and it hardly hurts
at all anymore, but I can't betray Mulder again. It's too late for
us, Walter. I'm sorry. Just be good to Ricky. I had no right to be
jealous."
Alex was gone so swiftly that it seemed he was a demon in the night.
Walter sat alone in the dark for a very long time. Finally, he made
his way to bed. Ricky wasn't back yet. It worried him, but then
again, Ricky was young. He might have found a million distractions
on his way back here.
Walter lay in the bed and, despite his weariness; sleep wouldn't be
coaxed to ease him away. He checked the clock. It was near midnight.
Not too late, but Ricky should have called. They were working and
despite Ricky's playfulness, he took his FBI position seriously.
Ricky still hadn't come home or called by morning. Walter sat by the
phone waiting. When it rang, it was midmorning. Walter picked it up,
thumbing the button that alerted the wiretap team at the same time.
It was probably a futile gesture, but Walter was hardly a careless
man. The voice that whispered in his ear was distorted. He assumed
that the man was using some type of voice distortion. "He's
beautiful, really hot and sweet. I'm so tempted, but then, he's not
for me. Do you love him?"
Walter said, "Who the hell is this?"
The voice answered, "I'm your avatar. Your chance to prove your
love...Haven't you wondered what you would do for him? What he would
do for you? But I'm forgetting something. Listen..."
It had a tinny sound as if it was recorded, but it was Ricky's
voice. It sounded thick, drugged, and very, very pissed. Ricky's
voice said, "Get your god-dammed hands off me, you bastard. Get the
hell away from me." There was more, ending with a gasp and a groan.
Walter said, "What have you done with him?"
"No questions. It's time to see if you are worthy. If you love him,
meet me at the lion's gate. Take the taxi that you see there." The
distorted voice ordered.
Walter hung up, chilled to the bone suddenly. He used his mobile
phone to call the wiretap team. "Did you get anything?"
The familiar voice of Sparky Morton answered. He said, "Nada. We got
nothing. He's running it though a computer program, bouncing the
signals all over the map. We'll see if we can do a trace anyway
through a back door program. I don't have a lot of hope. Guy's a
geek."
Walter called Mulder next. Mulder said, "Yeah, I heard. Shit, Scully
was on Ricky, but she couldn't follow him into the men's room at the
gas station. I don't know how he got Ricky out the window, but he
sure and hell didn't walk through the wall with him."
Walter said, "All right, stay out of sight. I don't want to inspire
any drastic actions."
The Lion's Gate was simply an imitation of a Greek ruin. The arch
had bas relief works of men hunting lions from chariots, which
explained the name. Walter saw a Gray Liner taxi and got into its'
musty smelling interior. He looked at the driver. Was this the
killer?
The man said, "Man said to bring you to the corner of Antioch
Street. He'll meet you in the alley."
Shortly Walter was standing in an alley waiting. No one met him. He
didn't want to leave, thinking that this was part of the test that
the man mentioned. After an hour, he decided to check his voice
mail. A different distorted voice said, "Bad man. Very bad man.
Listen..."
Ricky's voice cursing and then groaning in pain emerged from the
phone. The killer's voice said, "He's suffering for your sins.
You're supposed to be his shield, Walter. How could you let me hurt
him? I saw the man following you. Lose him. Lose him or lose your
beautiful boy."
Walter stood there numb. He couldn't tell Mulder. Mulder wouldn't
listen. But lose him; Walter could do that. The problem was that
Alex was watching as well. Losing Alex was a talent that Walter
didn't think he could develop any time soon. An almost smile crossed
Walter's face. He realized it wasn't a problem. He might not be able
to lose Alex, but he doubted that Alex would be seen either.
Walter said, "Where do you want me to meet you?"
The man laughed and said, "Do you think I'm a fool? I'll meet you
when and where I choose."
Walter said, "Don't hurt Ricky any more...please."
No answer. Walter walked out of the alley. He ducked into traffic;
climbed onto a waiting bus, rode a block before doing his best to
blend with the large group of people also disembarking. He moved
into the warren of arts and crafts stores. The place was having a
show, which explained the large number of people who took this stop.
Walter moved in and out of the crowd. He spotted Mulder in a mirror
displayed among myriad others, all etched with trivial designs.
Walter was amused as he saw the man blocked by a trio of chubby
ladies with strollers and bags. He ducked into another small shop
and was gratified to see a back door. He barreled through it, as the
proprietor was busy showing a customer a tray of beads.
Walter noted that he was in a narrow hallway, which linked the
stores from behind. He faced a restroom and another door marked,
janitor. Walter followed the maze like passage out and found himself
in another alley. He caught a cab by dint of extreme rudeness,
shoving aside a harried man before he reached the door. The driver
protested until Walter dropped a twenty on the seat. Walter spent
the next two hours, moving from place to place. He was tired. Hadn't
slept more than a hour last night. Walter drifted to the park, back
to the basketball court. He stood for a moment thinking about Ricky
playing basketball, sweaty, color high, a happy healthy young animal
in his exuberance.
A voice came from near by. "I was watching. I watched that man try
to pick him up. He looked so lovely. Don't turn around, dear Walter
and don't try anything. If I don't get back to your beautiful boy,
he will not be happy. He will be very unhappy."
Walter walked ahead of the man, following his directions. He walked
to a battered white van. He felt a sudden sharp pain. Dizzy, he
collapsed forward. The still unseen man said, "Walter, Walter, I
told you not to drink so much. Here let me help you."
Rough strong hands helped him into the van. Walter blinked as his
fading vision caught sight of the man. Handsome, handsome and blond,
hair cut short, features like a Macedonian coin. Walter fought the
drug for a moment and then, feeling ill and numb, he lost his
battle. He tumbled into the well of darkness.
Walter woke shivering; cold air circulated around him. He looked up
into a mirrored ceiling. Fuck, he was naked and tightly bound to a
medical examination table. He looked to the side. Ricky occupied
another table. Walter winced at the burns now marking Ricky's
nipples and his groin. He said, "Ricky?"
"Yeah." The agent said, "I'm here. I know this has to be some kind
of plan because we aren't stupid enough to both end up caught like
this."
The man entered. He wore a white tunic and Grecian sandals, leather
bound up his strong legs. "Awake already. You're strong. The
strongest yet, I think. The strongest and the most beautiful. It's
perfect."
Walter growled, "Now what?"
The man rubbed his hands together and said, "Now, you get the chance
to die gloriously or perhaps live. I really wanted to have a chance
for you to fight...you do know how to use a Theban short sword don't
you? But if one goes about hiring thugs, word gets out, don't you
think? Now, I think you are ready. The rules are simple. No
cowardice and you must have perfect faith in each other. The others
did well enough, most of them, but not quite perfect enough, never
good enough. Better than him though. He betrayed me. Wanted a
younger one when I lost my ephebes."
Walter said, "If you're angry with him...why not take it out on
him?"
The man said, "Because he's gone. He and his new lover. They weren't
perfect. Not willing to lay down their lives for each other. No
single shield..."
The man shook out a case and withdrew a syringe. "A little sleep and
then the opportunity of a lifetime."
Walter grunted as the needle bit into his skin. He watched as the
man did the same to Ricky.
"So beautiful..." the man said, tracing the lines of Ricky's face.
"Be in me as the eternal moods of the bleak wind and not as
transient things are; gaiety of flowers. Have me in the strong
loneliness of sunless cliffs and of gray waters. Let the gods speak
softly of us in the day's hereafter. Shadowy flowers of Orcus,
remember thee." The man said, "It's better to die when you're so
beautiful, so young. I won't touch your face. Trust me."
The man's finger strayed too near Ricky's mouth. Walter heard the
yell as the man drew back half bitten through fingers. Walter
thought as the drug subdued him, 'Good teeth, Ricky and Alex both
have good strong teeth...'
Walter woke up untied. He was lying on a cold floor. It was dark. He
heard a soft moan. The man had dressed them as they slept, but it
was damp in here and the moisture had seeped through to his
shivering skin. He said, "Ricky?"
"Yeah." Warmth scooted nearer.
His head clearing, Walter realized that there was something on his
eyes. He reached up and explored, finding patches. They wouldn't
come off. He'd used some sort of surgical glue. Walter kept trying,
but he only succeeded in hurting himself.
Ricky said, "Your eyes and my hands. I'm cuffed behind my back."
Walter said, "What's his game?"
Ricky said, "He kept talking about lab rats and mazes. I guess we're
the rats. Alex has us bugged, but the guy knows that. He couldn't
find get the transmitter. He said it must be inside us, but he did
jam it."
Walter said, "Mulder and Alex will find us. We just have to stay
alive until they do."
Ricky whispered, "He wants to make us suffer. See if he can break
us. Get one to abandon the other. So that's why each of us has a
handicap."
Walter said, "We could sit right here and not entertain the
bastard."
The sound of laughter came wet and repulsive. It made Walter feel
filthy just to hear it. The man said, "You need some encouragement."
At first, it was just alternating jets of water. It wasn't pleasant,
but Walter had showered in water just as cold and stinging. He and
Ricky stood, turning to the wall to shield their faces. Walter felt
the first tingle of electricity with an instant knowledge that it
would get worse. And it did. Painful shocks moved them further into
the room. Walter clung to Ricky as he moved through obstacles set in
the room.
It took a few moments to establish a rhythm...for Walter to remember
to let Ricky lead him. Even so, he stumbled into some of the
barriers. Sometimes it was no more than furniture. Other things gave
out a painful shock. A few were edged jagged with something fine and
sharp.
Ricky guided him through another narrow opening. Walter was frankly
terrified. He felt so helpless without his vision. He was panting,
his wet clothing stuck to him and he shook with cold and tension.
Ricky was in no better shape. Walter put his arms around his lover
for a moment. Ricky leaned into him, shivering just as hard as
Walter was. Ricky said, "Alex will beat the jamming. I know he
will."
The jet of water alerted them to move on. Ricky said, "These rooms
are big, but not as big as they must feel to you with all the turns
we have made. He has them cluttered with stuff, plywood walls in
some places, in others, barbwire, and old furniture embedded with
broken glass and razors."
At one point, they had to squeeze through a tunnel. Each time,
Walter brushed a wall the shock was agonizing. At the last, Ricky
had to drag him the last few inches. They collapsed on the floor,
clinging to each other.
Their torturer gave them ten minutes to rest before his oily voice
said, "Not that you don't look sweet together, but it's time to move
on."
Cut, bruised, nerves trembling from shocks, cold, and exhaustion,
Walter might have given up were it not for Ricky. He knew that Ricky
felt the same. He knew that Ricky was drawing strength from his
embrace and he gave it willingly.
Finally, they were in a larger space. Walter's skin, hypersensitive
from pain and fear, could feel the difference. They were holding
each other upright, welded together as if they were one being.
Walter felt a brush of warmth. Him! Walter could smell him. Could
feel the difference in the air. Berserker strength arrived from some
unknown Nordic ancestor. He bellowed like a silverback gorilla and
blindly charged. He heard a scream gone high with surprise. They hit
the floor together, Walter's weight slamming the man breathless.
Walter's hands found a soft throat and despite the panicked
resistance, he squeezed, thumping the hated head again and again
against the floor.
Walter was dimly aware of the man going limp in his hands. He
couldn't stop. Over and over still screaming in rage, he smashed the
man against the hard floor.
Walter half heard Ricky saying, "Walter, he's dead. It's over. It's
all over." Still, his world narrowed to the pulpy sounds that
resulted as he exerted his mad strength on his dead enemy. Finally,
Alex's voice called him out of it. Even in his madness, he knew who
that was.
Alex said, "Walter, time to stop. Here, let me see your eyes. Come
on, I can help."
Walter slumped back on his heels. He would have fallen except Alex
was there to catch him. Walter yelled, "Ricky!"
His young lover folded free hands around him. Ricky let loose a
sobbing sigh and then caught it back. Ricky wearily said, "Okay,
now. We made it and I am so glad, so very glad that he's dead."
Although they wanted to admit them both, neither Ricky nor Walter
wanted to stay at the hospital. Walter's eyes still stung from both
the lingering results of the adhesive used to bond the eye patches
to his skin and from the dissolving agent that the doctor in
emergency had applied. He wore a pound or two of bandages on the
outer parts of his body and he was sore from head to foot. Ricky was
in no better shape. In one accord, they moved to the bedroom the
instant they were back at the cottage. They gingerly crept in the
big bed, moved to the center, and wrapped each other tightly despite
the aches.
Alex sat on the bed, kissed each forehead and gently patted each
face. "Don't worry. Mulder and I will be right outside. We'll watch
over you."
Thus assured, Walter snuggled Ricky even closer and let himself sink
deep into the healing arms of sleep.
The following day, back at headquarters, Walter was disconcerted to
learn that they had lost an entire day and night in the maze. It
didn't surprise him in the least, however, that it was not the ant's
nest of police and official resources that belatedly found them. It
was the combined efforts of Alex, Mulder and the Lone Gunmen, who
finally found a way to chart their location by calculating the
effects of the jamming device's distortion on the transmitters that
Alex had thoughtfully implanted in their bodies.
Still limping and feeling like he had gone ten rounds bare handed
with a dragon, Walter lowered himself into the offered seat. The
Senator looked pale and drawn. He said, "I hear that you were the
one who killed that monster. I want to thank you."
The Senator's hand trembled as he brushed under his eyes. He looked
old and frail, a face he never showed on the campaign trail. He
said, "I loved my son. We argued about his life style. Hardly spoke
after he moved in with that man. Now, if I could take it back..." A
quiet sob interrupted his words. The Senator stood, moving for the
door. At the last moment, he turned back and asked, "Do you think in
the end he was not afraid because he was with someone who loved
him?"
Walter said, "I know he was comforted by his lover, sir. And I'm
sure that he knew that you still loved him."
The Senator said, "I hope he did. By God, I'm going to do something.
He wanted to marry his lover. I probably will lose the election for
supporting that bill for same sex marriages, but I'm going to do it.
I'm really going to do it."
No one had anything to say as the stricken man left. Walter's eyes
moved around the familiar room. Same portrait of the
president...always the same frame through four presidents so far.
The oak desk so immense that it seemed the room was built around it.
The director's hands were clasped in the middle of a snowy white
scratch pad. Walter noted they were trembling.
Walter said, "I'm going to take a few more days off. I'm moving,
buying that house. Agent Caruso is going to...bunk down with me for
a while. We became very close during that ordeal. I know it's
against regulations, but frankly, sir, I don't give a damn."
The director sucked in his already cavernous cheeks. He said, "I
don't have a problem with it. Election doesn't come up for another
two years for the Senator. For right now, we have a staunch ally and
after that, well, I'm retiring in a few years anyway." A smile,
fleeting, but sincere, crossed the lined face. He said, "Walter,
you're one of the good ones. What ever makes you happy...."
They knelt on the warm earth together, gently pulling the weeds from
around the tender pea plants. Their hands met as both reached for
the same blade of grass. Walter stopped, drew Ricky's face close and
kissed him. The oriole sang in the trees. A zephyr touched Ricky's
richly colored hair and displaced an errant lock. Walter brushed it
back, held the face cupped in his hands. Just for now, a cherry
blossom caught in a perfect moment...
The two men walked inside, leaving the door open behind them. And
the garden sang with love shortly after.
The End
Outstanding Skinner Crossover Story
A Garden of Earthly Delights
by Ursula
Fingers forming a steeple on his chest, Walter leaned back in his
chair. The pile of work, that usually kept him from everything but a
hurried trip to the bathroom, had inexplicably vanished. His next
appointment was... Walter punched up his schedule and groaned. Oh
shit, the last thing he needed after last night was Ricky Caruso,
Mr. Pink Cheeks, that adorable Alex look-a-like.
Honorable mention
