A Lighter Weaknesses Vignette
Scully surreptitiously tried to loosen her handcuffs and kept staring
at me as if trying to decide how she could make this out to be my fault. Mulder, similarly
handcuffed, had this bemused expression on his face that suggested he appreciated
the surreal humor of the scene even as he thought desperately of a way
to get us and forty other hostages out of here safely.
I just wanted a chance to talk to him and, maybe later, fuck him blind.
It seemed that he and Scully had only wanted to meet up with a source for one of their bizarre
cases. Who knows what the six nuts with the guns want? I don't know if even they
know.
It started out as three nuts with guns. When they popped up Mulder
and Scully quickly dispatched them. No one expected the other three to show up and
reverse the tide.
I had to help them subdue the first three and brand myself a hero.
I softly rattled my handcuff against the railing to test it. Seeing my mutilation, they put
one cuff on my surviving wrist and the other around the rail. I still
had a pretty good range of motion. I might be able to pull something off before the crazies slaughtered us in the name of their alien gods
or whatever the hell they're doing this for.
"The gray ones demand a sacrifice! They want entertainment!Their
faithful servants shall be assumed into heaven," the leader declaimed. "How shall we entertain
them?" the leader declaimed.
I watched Mulder close his eyes in rueful disgust. These believers
inspired the kind of ridicule he fought against in his own pursuits. I also watched him struggling
not to laugh.
"We could kill these sacks of meat one by one. The wise ones would
find that amusing, watching all the unbelievers die in agony. Or… someone could sing for
them."
What?
"Oh, yes. This is a karaoke bar after all," the crazy said, obviously
warming up to the idea.
The cowed crowd stared back at him in terrified silence. Scully
looked like she hoped she would wake up soon to discover that this had been a bad dream.
Mulder just looked back with that expression that suggested he searched for a way to communicate
with these idiots.
The reaction didn't please the man at all. "If someone doesn't
sing, we could just start slaughtering now," he screamed. Even his own people started to
look nervous.
Inspiration struck. "Fox can sing," I shouted. Scully looked
back at me with total disbelief while Mulder mouthed the word "no" over and over again. I tried
to convince him with my eyes.
"Who the hell is 'Fox'?" the nutjob asked.
"I am," Mulder said.
"What kind of name is 'Fox'?"
"Ask my parents. Everybody has to be called something."
"So it's up to you, fibbie. You G-men are always claiming you're
trying to help people.
Mulder looked at Scully, looked at me, then closed his eyes. I
watched his posture loosen and knew that when he opened his eyes they would be a bright vibrant
green. Mulder swore he couldn't sing, but Fox could. Maybe Fox could at least provide
a distraction to get us out of this.
"Okay," Fox said. "What songs do you have in the book?" He tried
to keep his voice in a lower octave to keep Scully from getting suspicious, but I watched
her notice the differences.
One of the gunmen brought the book of songs over and opened it for Fox.
"Flip the page, would you? I have my hands cuffed behind my back," he said.
I tried not to laugh as the gunman snapped to attention and followed his orders. "Nice selection."
"Thanks," his page-turner said then bit his lip. So, somebody
had chosen this location because he worked here. Damn, sometimes I still thought like an FBI agent.
"This one." Fox pointed to the selection with his eyes.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He grabbed Fox by the arm to pick him up off the floor and direct him
up to the stage. Fox said, "Could somebody adjust the mic stand for me? I need it
a little higher." When Fox got what he wanted, he favored his helper with an incandescent smile.
As he looked out at his captive audience, even Fox looked a little nervous.
He bomped the microphone with his nose twice to make sure it was on.
Then the music started, and he closed his eyes. Scully started at the industrial sound and pounding
drums, while I tried to figure out what Fox, considering his taste in music, would choose from
a list of popular top 40 music.
Fox started to sing, "I can taste more than feel/This burning inside
is so real/I can almost lay my hands upon…" Ah, he went with something familiar from
his favorite band. Taking no chances. He used his own rich, expressive voice though, not
an impression of David Gahan's as he sometimes did when singing to Depeche Mode.
He moved to the music, giving the impression of a person who desperately
wanted to be able to gesture and grab the microphone stand with both hands.
He had the full, stunned attention of everyone in the room. Maybe the sight of a buttoned-down-looking
federal agent in a suit moving in such a sinuous way and belting out a song struck
them as odd, although it only struck me as hot. I smiled at the sight of Scully struck
completely dumbfounded.
I blessed Fox's exhibitionist heart while I used my teeth to try to
pry the lockpick I keep embedded in my prosthetic arm off. If I get it between my teeth
I might be able to pick the lock on the cuff, get myself free, and do some real damage.
His voice rose in almost ecstasy as he belted, "Heaven bound on the
wings of love/There's so much that you can rise above…"
I couldn't quite follow what happened next. Fox's hands came flying
in front of him as he threw the handcuffs directly in the face of the gunman nearest him,
and Fox dropped into a crouch before the hail of gunfire started. He grabbed the microphone
stand and threw himself at the nearest man, knocking him to the floor, and swung the
stand around, nailing his every target. The mic amplified every sound of impact and
screeched in protest. In five minutes he had all six men in a bloody pile around him.
Wrists dripping blood, bent microphone stand in hand, Fox looked out as if he hoped one of them
would get up. None of them did.
The crowd stared in silence then exploded into applause. Fox actually
blushed. Then Mulder came back into control and used his cell phone to call for help.
An hour later I commiserated with him in the men's room and tried not
to laugh too hard.
"I'm not talking to the news crews," he said, sounding like a petulant
child. A very sexy petulant child.. "I'm definitely not signing for them.
I'll never hear the end of this. It's bad enough being Spooky Mulder."
I snorted. "If anyone at the Bureau gives you any trouble, just
tell them that they don't want you to go find a microphone stand."
He gave me a dirty look. "Et tu, Alex? It was bad enough
dealing with Scully. 'But, Mulder, you always tell me you can't sing.' 'I actually sang? Scully,
I went blank as soon as they brought me the book. I was on autopilot.' I don't think she believes
me."
"She's just jealous," I said with a smile.
Mulder grinned. "You should hear her rendition of 'Joy to the
World.'"
"Are you ever going to tell her about the others?"
"The inmates? I can't trust her not to turn me in to the psychs.
Purely for my own good, of course, but I would still be screwed."
"Give Fox an ice cream for me, will you? He came through for us."
Mulder flowed into Fox. "An ice cream isn't what we want right
now," Fox said with a saucy smirk.
"No. You're too young, Fox." Mentally this personality was
a child, violent and oversexualized from abuse. His amorality had helped us on more than one occasion,
and I really liked him, but I would never sleep with him as he wanted me
to.
"You're the only one who ever says that."
"If other people said that, maybe you wouldn't be so screwed up. I'm
not going to ask how you know how to slip out of handcuffs." I lightly
touched the bandaged wrists.
"I had Mulder flex his wrists as the psychos put the cuffs on.
After that, it's just a trick and a little blood for lubrication." Fox laughed. "Get that
look off your face, you perv! All right, I'll get Mulder back for you."
When I knew I had the one I wanted, I kissed Mulder until we both had
to break away for air. "Later?" I asked.
"Sure. I'll give you a private performance."
end...
Performance
by Viridian5
It doesn't matter what way you're facing death; you usually feel that
it would be a stupid way to go. This time, I had more cause than usual though. I
swore to myself that I would not die in a karaoke bar.
"If we and the wise one find it good, we'll let everyone go.
If not, we'll start butchering.
What do you say?"
So you can sing and maybe save some lives or refuse and have these
people die for it."
Fox had a bit of a New England accent that Mulder had triumphed over.
Mulder was honestly upset and had left Scully to deal with the backup
and the news crews.
