Allies
by Czara
Langly was a bit miffed that he had been unable to
gather his belongings, but Byers had simply pointed out
that he could easily acquire replacements.
Now after Antonio had gone again for gear and a second,
makeshift camp had been set up, Frohike found Krycek
sitting on a large rock, away from camp, staring north,
from where they'd come. He repeated his question.
Krycek gave him an inscrutable look and raised a brow.
"Nothing," he said quietly in response.
Frohike shrugged. "Okay. I just thought you'd want to
know that Mulder is looking for you." He ran a hand over
the top of his head, moving back a bit as Krycek hopped
off the rock immediately.
"Why are we stopping anyway, Krycek?" he asked.
"Because I wanted to have a few nights with Mulder
before we set up house in San Francisco." To Alex's own
ears the reason sounded silly, he could spend time alone
with Mulder anywhere. However, it had been what he
demanded of Skinner and though things were going
wonderfully with Mulder, he didn't want to admit that
his demand was unnecessary.
"Oh... okay. Well, he's looking for you. I told him I'd
find you for him... as I thought I would be the best to
do it." At Alex's questioning look Frohike shrugged.
"Just thought about where I would go if I wanted some
down time, and voila."
Krycek slapped Frohike on the shoulder and grinned. "God
job, Frohike."
Frohike beamed and puffed up, about to launch into a
more detailed analysis of his search for Alex, but Alex
just walked away, the little man trailing behind him.
"So I was thinking I could use a little brush-up on my
aim. I know I miss some of what I shoot at..."
"Thank God," Alex muttered.
"Yes, well, I didn't mean to shoot at you!" Frohike
assured him. "But, with a few hours of honing my craft,
I think I could really be a gunman."
"You want me to teach you how to shoot?" Alex's face
showed his shock.
"Well, sure. We're compadres aren't we? Aren't we?"
Alex frowned a bit then nodded. "Yeah, I guess we are.
Look, when we get settled down... wherever the hell
Skinner lets us, then we work on your aim."
Frohike grinned. "And maybe some chop chop killer moves,
too?"
Krycek leveled a stare on the little man, "Don't push
it, Frohike."
Frohike grinned, knowing that Krycek wasn't really
irritated.
When they approached the camp Skinner grinned at Krycek
coming over and running a hand through Krycek's hair.
"There you are, Alex. Fox has been looking for you.
Where were you?" Skinner stroked Alex's face, his big
fingers tracing the high cheekbones gently.
Alex shrugged, not entirely uncomfortable with the big
hand on his face. "Just thinking," he mumbled. "Where is
he?"
Skinner sighed. He wanted to kiss Alex's pink lips, but
the man was stubborn. He could force the issue, easily,
but after how quickly Fox had fallen into Alex's arms he
knew he didn't have long to wait. "He went to the
river." He pointed in the direction of the small river
that they had camped near.
Krycek turned to leave but he stopped for a moment and
without looking back at Skinner he said in a gruff
voice, "Thank you."
Before Skinner could react to that, Krycek was gone. He
smiled and shook his head. His assassin was surely an
interesting mix of fury and softness. The grudging thank
you was not for telling him where Mulder had wandered,
Skinner knew, but for bowing to Alex's demands of more
time alone with him. Though it was a little thing,
Skinner wondered how long he could go without tasting
one or both of them again. He too was changed and he
needed sex nearly as much as the sweet fruit he had
collected.
Alex found Mulder sitting on the bank of the little
river, tossing rocks in and wearing one of his vacant
looks, chewing on his lower lip.
"Hey you," he breathed as he slid down beside Fox.
Fox jumped a bit and smiled. "You shouldn't sneak up on
me like that. You sure are quiet."
Alex kissed the side of Mulder's mouth, tonguing the
tiny crack where the lush bottom lip met the bowed upper
lip. "Yeah, I know, you told me once that you wanted to
put a bell on me."
Mulder grinned, "I did?"
"Mmm hmmm, but I said I liked startling you."
Mulder ran a hand over Alex's thigh, reveling in the
hard muscle. "I bet you did. You are a bad boy, I
think."
Krycek chuckled and scraped his teeth on Mulder's jaw.
"Very bad."
Mulder shook his head, amused. "I..."
"Shut up and kiss me," Krycek purred and was pleasantly
surprised when Mulder turned quickly and opened his
mouth over his own.
They kissed slowly at first, their lips barely touching,
their tongues mating between their lips, exposed and
hungry. Mulder grabbed the back of Krycek's head and
pulled him in tight, devouring him with sudden
intensity. They both moaned as the kiss caught fire and
Mulder pushed Krycek down into the soft dirt.
He pulled away enough to stare down at Alex's beautiful
face. "God, Alex, I could stare at you forever."
"I hope you don't," Alex grinned. "There are a few
things I'd rather you be interested in."
Mulder kissed the tip of Alex's nose. "Oh, believe me, I
am interested in every bit of you." He emphasized his
point by stroking one hand down Alex's belly to the
juncture of his thighs. He rubbed the heel of his palm
over the bulge trapped by denim. He nipped at Alex's
chin. "I can't even think about what I was going to ask
you, all I want is to take your clothes off and make you
scream." He rubbed his hips into Alex's, showing his
gentle lover exactly what he wanted to do to him with
every rolling thrust of his body.
Alex had the same idea, he couldn't think of anything
he'd rather do then make Fox scream.
"I want to be inside you, Alex... my sweet angel. God
you're so beautiful," Fox moaned, nipping at Alex's
lips. He stared into Alex's eyes, thrilling to the heat
there. Some dangerous sparkle glittered in those black
lashed orbs that seemed so out of place for his angel.
"So very beautiful."
Alex had other plans. When Fox bent again to capture his
lips he shifted above him and with a small grin at Fox's
surprised look, he rolled Fox under him and captured his
full lips hungrily. He pressed one thigh between Fox's
and spread his long legs with one sure movement.
"I am going to make you scream, Fox," he growled.
Fox was gasping, more than a little surprised at the
quickness with which Alex had reversed their positions.
And that the young man would take a dominant position.
He grinned, "Is my little angel getting frisky?" he
teased.
"I'll show you how angelic I can be, baby," Alex
promised, his voice a dark purr. "When I'm so deep
inside you, you can't even breathe then tell me how
angelic I am." He pushed up at Fox's shirt, growing
impatient and ripping at the fabric. When Fox's chest
was revealed he sat back in shock, staring at the
pierced nipples with wide eyes and an open mouth.
"What? What is it?" Fox complained. He raised a hand to
Alex's face and found his hand grabbed and held tight.
"When the fuck did you get your nipples pierced?" He was
desperately trying to resist dragging Fox up and shaking
him. He had the image of Skinner and Fox, alone on one
of the stolen nights and Skinner marking Fox as his.
Fox stared up at his suddenly fanged angel in utter
surprise. Alex looked almost like he wanted to kill
someone. His eyes were narrowed and burning, his lips a
thin line, compressed tightly. There was a muscle
flexing beneath the skin of his jaw and his grip was
tightening on Fox's wrist.
"Hey, guys..." Frohike started before stopping abruptly
at the obviously intimate moment. "Oh, sorry."
"Get out of here, right now," Alex hissed.
"Hey, you don't have to talk to him like that," Fox
snapped pulling his wrist free.
Alex glared at him. "Fox!"
Frohike narrowed his eyes, realizing suddenly that there
was a problem. He hated to go against Krycek. Of course
most of that was simple fear of the man, but also
because they were becoming so tight. But, Mulder was one
of his own. "Mulder? Are you all right?"
Krycek threw Frohike a deadly glare and the little man
trembled.
"Get out of here right now, Frohike," Alex repeated, his
voice falling to a whisper.
Frohike held his ground, swallowing audibly. "I can't do
that, Krycek. No... not if Mulder... not if Mulder needs
me."
Mulder shook his head. "It's okay, Frohike. I think this
is something I can handle on my own."
"You don't remember..." Frohike began.
"You are pushing it, Frohike," Alex whispered.
"Go on, Frohike," Mulder said calmly. He watched as the
little man gave Alex one last look, a threatening look,
before he turned and left, slowly.
Fox gave Alex a confused look and reached once more to
touch Alex's face, but Alex moved his face out of the
way with an angry sound.
"Skinner said you'd hate them, Alex, but you're acting
like a child," Fox said with a bit of irritation. He
tried to sit up but Alex pushed him down, both hands on
his shoulders.
"So you two talked about what I'd think? And you still
thought it would be fun to do it?" He stood up abruptly.
"You know, he has some fucking nerve to tell me I can't
even let Garren touch me." He ran a hand through his
hair, wanting to hit something and unable to hit Fox.
Fox sat up with narrowed eyes. "That's bothering you
isn't it? Not being with Garren."
Alex missed the dangerous note in Fox's voice and he
sneered. "He wants the best of everything. He wants to
own you completely and keep good old Alex at his beck
and call... with the promise of a little Fox ass to keep
him happy."
Mulder flushed angrily and stood. "And what do you
want?" He knew without Alex saying a word that Alex
wanted Garren. "You're more pissed about not being able
to be with Garren than anything else aren't you,
Krycek?"
Krycek gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "You
don't want to push me right now, Fox. I know you didn't
remember me when you had your little bonding ceremony
with Skinner..."
"I asked you a question, Krycek. It bothers you that you
can't be with Garren. You told me yourself that he
doesn't have to take anything from you anymore.
Because you want him."
"Stop fucking changing the subject, Fox. Yeah, I fucking
want him. Okay? Happy? How does it feel? How does it
fucking feel? You want Skinner so fucking badly... well I
want Garren." He flushed at the words... knowing them to
be true, but knew he had said them more to hurt Fox than
anything else. Knowing that Fox couldn't help not
remembering him didn't stop it from hurting Alex. He
remembered little things about everyone else. Just
nothing about the man he supposedly loved.
Fox stared at Alex for a few seconds before he
responded. "How does it feel? It hurts. But then I
suppose that was the point."
Alex flushed a bit, "I'm... I don't want to hurt you,
Fox," he paused, knowing that he had for a moment wanted
Fox to hurt just a little. "But I'm standing here in
front of you, the man I love and you're wearing marks
from a man who takes what he wants... makes us both play
the whore so we can be safe... maybe. You stand there not
remembering me at all, but you smile at Skinner like you
want to eat him alive. You're hurt that I want Garren?
You're hurt that I might be wondering where he is, if he
will come back to me? I don't want you to hurt, Fox. But
can't you see that I'm hurting, too?"
Fox lowered his eyes and walked a few feet from Alex,
staring at the cool, dark soil by the bank of the river.
He didn't understand why it hurt so badly to hear that
Alex wanted Garren, but it did. It felt like his heart
had been torn from his chest and callously stomped.
Alex wanted to follow him, but dammit, he had been a
wimp for so long. Loving Fox so much was making him
crazy. He felt like he was drowning. For so long he had
relied on himself and himself alone, caring about no
one. Then Fox Mulder had come along and suddenly he was
letting himself get hit around and bowled over. He'd
even begun to want to help Mulder in his quest. And
then... then they had made love and he'd lost himself
entirely. How could he even look at Skinner without
killing him... or at least trying to, knowing that he'd
dared to do something so personal to Fox. Knowing that
Skinner was staking a claim when Fox was out of his
mind. He shouldn't have taken it out on Fox, but it was
true, Fox did want Skinner. And Alex was anything but
happy about that. He threw off the niggling guilt that
informed him that he had been as willing as could be to
be with Skinner himself.
Fox turned finally. "Skinner told you not to be with
Garren?"
Alex frowned. Not understanding why Fox would ask him
that. Not liking the way his lover's voice had no
emotion in it. "Yes, but, Fox, baby, that isn't
important. What is, is that he feels free to command
me... us. That he would take advantage of you when you
didn't even know you weren't his."
"And whose am I? Yours?"
Alex did go to Fox then, his anger dying at the sorrow
there on Fox's beautiful face. "Yes, oh God, baby, I
know I have a crazy temper when you're concerned. I know
it wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have taken it..."
"I'll talk to him," Fox said quietly, moving his face
away from Alex's hand.
"What? What do you mean?" Alex followed Fox's face with
his hand, touching the cool skin over his jaw.
"To Skinner about Garren," Fox said in an emotionless
voice.
"No, Fox. Please, that's not what this is about. Shit."
Alex wanted to kick himself for the distance between he
and Fox, a distance not there just moments ago.
"Skinner didn't do this, you know. I don't know why you
thought he did, but he didn't. It was another gift from
Mikhail." He stared in to Alex's suddenly wide eyes. "A
nice way of reminding me of the pleasure of being his, I
suppose."
"Fox, I..."
"Don't. I know you are hurting. I wish I could remember
everything. But you're wrong. When you say that I
remember nothing about you. You think I don't know
what's in my heart? You don't think that I know how
special the feeling I have with you is? You're right
though, in that I remember little things about everyone
else and not you. But when I slept in your arms, I felt
like I was home." He looked away from Alex. "Walter
didn't tell me that you were unhappy. I'm sorry that you
are." His voice was a whisper, hurt and confused.
Alex pulled Fox into his arms. "No, I'm not unhappy. I
love you. I'm happy with you. Just being with you, Fox.
I'm sorry that I lost it. Try to understand that it is
hard... this whole thing. Baby, we weren't even together
long before all this." He kissed Fox's hair, but Fox
still stood unmoving in his arms. Alex closed his eyes
trying to will Fox to know how much he was loved.
Fox tried to relax in Alex's embrace, but the words he'd
spoken, words of love and outrage paled compared to the
words of wanting Garren. "So we're with Walter for
protection? Not love," he choked out.
Alex kissed Fox's cheek. "He loves you," he ground out.
"And you." Fox wasn't asking, he knew Skinner did love
Alex. Maybe he was using them, but Fox couldn't envision
Walter, the gentle lover he loved, being like
Mikhail... using them, both of them.
"Yes, maybe he does. But, that doesn't change the fact
that he would keep us apart if we didn't let him in. So
we made that decision... together."
"So what do you get from Garren?"
Alex stiffened. He felt the trap spring. A trap Fox had
laid with soft words. "Nothing. I get nothing from him."
Fox pulled away from him. "But you want him."
Alex shook his head, wishing he could take back the
words, spoken in anger. Regardless of their veracity.
He'd sought and received the look of hurt on Fox's face.
A momentary victory that had tasted sour on his tongue
the moment he had uttered the words. "I love you. Only
you."
"I don't know what to believe anymore, Alex." Fox
crossed his hands over his chest, utterly ashamed of the
rings on his nipples. Sickened by what he was hearing.
Skinner. Using them both. He shook his head. "I
can't... I can't talk about this anymore. I just want to
be alone.
Alex took a deep breath. "I do love you, Fox. I'd give
anything... do anything to have had none of this happen."
He tried to take Fox in his arms again, but Fox moved
away. His hands fell back to his sides, useless.
"Maybe we can talk later," Fox whispered.
"Maybe?" Alex was shaking. Everything was falling apart
and he was powerless to stop it.
Fox saw the look of despair on Alex's young face. The
green eyes, such pools of living jade, wide with fear.
"We'll talk later, Alex. I just want to be alone right
now to think."
"It isn't safe to be alone, Fox. Not with the night
coming. Please, just come back to the camp with me. I
won't say anything... won't do anything until you want to
talk. But, please come back. I can't bear it if you were
to be taken again. Please."
Fox nodded. "All right."
Alex sighed a bit. He bent to pick up Fox's ruined
shirt. If he had just asked Fox... he wouldn't even think
of it. He had made so many mistakes with Fox. So many
missteps taken. He had never been so clumsy with any
aspect of his life before. He'd have been dead long ago
if he had. Vulnerability. It was too new for him. Every
thing that Fox thought or felt was important to him. Too
important. He'd never been in love before. Didn't know
how to handle it. He just wanted to be with Fox. Why
then did he do everything wrong? How could he have told
Fox, so bluntly, so cruelly, how much he wanted Garren?
Fox didn't look at anyone when they arrived back at the
camp. The Gunmen were huddled together speaking in
hushed, quick tones. They stopped abruptly when they saw
him. They avoided looking at Alex after their first
accusing looks.
Skinner met the two with a concerned frown. "What is
it?"
Mulder shook his head and evaded the questing hand that
caressed his face. He saw that there were tents set up.
He didn't even wonder at where they had come from. With
ascendants around, he supposed anything was possible.
The previous night Skinner had set up camp so swiftly
the others, excluding Antonio, had all shied away from
the big man for hours after. It had been disconcerting
to see objects appear out of thin air, while a ruby glow
emitted from Skinner's eyes. "Is there a tent I can use.
I want to... rest."
Skinner pointed to a large tent just beyond the western
edge of the campsite. "You can rest in there. Fox, are
you all right?" He saw the tension in Fox's face, the
tension in Alex's.
"I'm fine." Fox looked into Skinner's face and saw
nothing but love and concern there in the hard planes.
Alex had to be wrong. Skinner... Walter would never hurt
them. He hurried to the tent. He could feel Alex move to
follow, but he knew the young man wouldn't come far with
him. He opened the tent, the sound of the zipper as he
sealed himself in, bringing a flash of memory.
//Darkness lit by a small gas lamp. A small, dark girl
sitting on a sleeping bag, her face entranced, her eyes
a bit scared, as he told a scary story. It was his
voice, he knew. Young, very young. 'Don't tell me the
end, Fox. I don't want to know... tell me the police
caught the loony.' He felt a smile curve his lips as he
leaned closer, his shadow large on her small frame. 'No,
he was never found,' he whispered and laughed as she
launched herself into his arms. 'You big baby,' he
scolded, tugging on her hair, but not making her get off
his lap. 'We're only in the backyard.'//
That memory warmed him. Memories of home and family. He
saw a man's face, a strong, stern face. His father when
he was young. His mother straightening his tie, pushing
a lock of hair out of his face, before nodding in
maternal satisfaction. Ships sailing by on the Vineyard
Sound.//
He lay down on one of the two thick sleeping bags that
had been laid out and tried to remember everything. He
closed his eyes, trying to capture his past and soon he
found himself drifting off into sleep.
Washington D.C.
Murdoch finished instructing the shades, watching as the
dark shadows inched over the floor and leaked out the
window. He tracked their darkness as they wafted, smoke
like into the sky. They would go across the Atlantic and
instruct his loyal brothers there. What of the witches?
They had gone to his bidding, make his sweet Foxling
lust for him, but they had disappeared into the night
and he'd heard nothing of them since. He could feel no
trace of them, the ungrateful hags.
He turned to look at the changed male in the sling.
Beautiful. It was true that many of the changed humans
were not as lovely as some of their fully human
companions, but they were so delicious despite any
physical flaws. Their appeal was physiological,
instinctual. Whatever they looked like they were utterly
desirable. The more changed the more valuable. And their
offspring would be just as compelling. With careful
breeding using the more beautiful changed humans, their
posterity would be stunning. The male in the sling was
one of the most used in breeding despite the fact that
there were many other more changed than he. Tall,
muscular and strong. The face was almost too pretty,
full lips, wide, blue eyes, high cheekbones, eyebrows
darker than the brown-gold hair. Murdoch traced a finger
over the beauty's spine and removed the large dildo he
had been pleasing the toy with. He smelled so sweet, was
so afraid.
"You want to go back to the pens, little love? You've
been such a good boy. Such a tight, little baby."
The blue eyes, dark with the pain Murdoch had inflicted
turned to him with a pleading expression.
"Careful, little love, your looks of pain will only make
me want to play some more." Murdoch chuckled as the
young man blanched and closed his eyes. "Perhaps the
lovely Shane will sooth your hurts for you." Murdoch
smiled darkly as the pretty jerked at the name. Shane
Deston, a pure blood, had a definite penchant for
Murdoch's little breeder. He wasn't above sharing things
with his pure bloods. They had been loyal, after-all.
The only rule that had to be adhered to was that no
changed human could be seriously injured. Used
thoroughly, without doubt, but not harmed.
When his Foxling was back at his side he knew there
would have to be breeding sessions, but he wasn't very
excited about sharing him. Of course the children Fox
would sire would be invaluable. Utterly. Beautiful as
well as changed. He thought of the little cat then. Both
males were exquisite and though not as changed as his
Foxling, the cat had few peers among the changed. He
turned and gestured to his human guards. "Take him to
Deston." The guards quickly complied, their hands
running over the trembling frame, more than necessary,
but Murdoch was tolerant. Humans couldn't help their
attraction to the changed ones. As long as they didn't
indulge in more than that, he would tolerate it. As the
young one, what was his name? Brian? Yes, Brian. As
Brian was taken away Murdoch sensed something. He smiled
slowly and made his way to a comfortable chair, letting
the silk fabric of his robe fall open as he sat, legs
spread, lubricant from the pretty Brian still slicking
his cock. He closed his eyes and went inward, to the
dark place and sought out his sleeping love.
Salmon Falls, CA
Alex had settled on the ground, leaning back against a
tree. His long legs were bent before him and he rested
his hands on his knees, staring at the tent that Fox had
disappeared into. Skinner approached him, stood over him
for a moment before sitting next to him.
"Want to tell me what happened?"
Alex looked at his hands, intent on the study of his
fingers.
"Alex? What happened? Why are you upset?"
"I'm not the one you should worry about. I hurt Fox.
He's the one who..."
"Alex, you are the one I am worried about right now. You
wouldn't hurt him... not unless you were provoked. I know
that much about you."
"Provoked?" He laughed, but it was a mirthless sound.
"Yeah, he provoked me all right. He had his nipples
pierced by some monster and I of course assumed the
worst."
"You thought I had done it," Walter said quietly.
Alex looked back at the tent. "Yes."
"And you were angry."
"Stop talking like a priest or a psychologist. Yeah, I
was angry. I'm angry that I have no control over my own
life. I'm angry that the only way you'll protect Fox and
I is if we let you fuck us. I'm angry that I hurt the
only person I love, because I want something I
shouldn't." He looked at Skinner. "Don't look at me with
such concern, if you were concerned then you wouldn't
make us whore ourselves for you."
Skinner, the part of him who sat for years behind a desk
and tried to do the best he could for his agents and the
law, recoiled from the truth in Alex's words. He should
just protect them, let them live out a happy existence
just the two of them, admiring from afar, respectful of
a love he had envied. But, the stronger part of him, one
that still wanted to do good despite his need to
dominate, knew that Alex and Fox were his. That they
would always be his.
"What is it that you want that you shouldn't?" He
ignored Alex's little glare and waited to be answered.
"Garren," Alex hissed.
Skinner stiffened and he stood. "That is not an option,
Alex. You are right to say you shouldn't want him."
"I don't care if you like it or not, Skinner. I care
because it hurts Fox."
Skinner had to turn and walk away. If he hadn't he might
have been tempted to punish Alex, as he had envisioned
before. He wanted Alex to come to him on his own, but he
wouldn't be patient much longer. Alex had been so sweet
in his arms, the give of his body, the strength tamed.
Skinner knew that Alex would fight the hook with
everything in him, denying that he belonged to anyone.
The fight made the ultimate reward so great. Garren was
another matter. Why had Alex told Fox that he wanted
Garren? He frowned darkly as Antonio seemed to be about
to speak to him. Antonio turned from him with a
disgruntled sigh. Alex must really be confused by the
wolf. When Garren reappeared, and he would Skinner knew,
he would have to tell the wolf that he could not play
with Alex any longer. He would kill the wolf if he
refused to leave, he resolved.
Alex watched him leave and almost got up to stop him.
Though what he had said was true, he found it harder and
harder to look upon Skinner with anger. He wondered if
it was the change that made him flush with the thought
of lying with Skinner... even when he was worried about
Fox and conflicted about Garren.
Mulder was cold. The dark was alive; he could feel it
breathing around him. He stood in the living dark,
shivering and confused. Wet, slick floor beneath him,
moving as if in breath. The cold was all around him and
he wondered if he were dreaming. If this was his mind,
utterly blank. A light in the darkness drew him forward.
There was a warmth coming from the light and he found
himself running toward it. The darkness shifted around
him, things moving behind him. He thought for a moment
that the light would keep receding in front of him like
in bad dreams, but he could see that it was a doorway,
and he ran faster. He stopped as soon as he gained the
door. His instincts warring with his fear of the
blackness behind him and the warm room before him.
There was a man sitting in a large chair at the center
of the room.
The man in the chair smiled at him, a smile that held no
warmth at all. The cold at his back held more warmth
than that smile and he made to move backward into the
living darkness, but his back hit a solid object. He
turned with a gasp, thinking to find that which had
pursued him, but found only a wall where the doorway had
been, a cold wall.
"Poor, lost Fox. Can't you at least say hello?"
Mulder turned toward the voice. It was deep and mocking.
He faced the man, gritting his jaw as he saw the man's
splayed thighs and nudity under the black robe. Those
eyes, as black as the darkness he'd left, stared at him
intently, hungrily. "Who are you? Where am I?" He was
surprised a bit to find that his voice was so sure. So
firm.
"Why, you're home. With me. For a while. I can give you
back your memories you know. Come here, come close to me
and we shall see what you have forgotten."
Mulder couldn't resist that promise. To remember
everything? To be whole again? He moved forward until he
had crossed the room, noting the fading light coming
from large windows and strangely familiar buildings
beyond the glass.
"Oh, Foxling, how I've missed you. So lovely, so
perfect."
Mulder stared into the black eyes and let himself be
drawn down onto the man's lap, trying to ignore the
large organ brushing his thigh. "I asked who you were?"
"Ah, yes. So you did, lovely one. I am your master, your
only lover. Murdoch." The words were spoken softly, as
if in a caress.
The name made him stiffen and he shook his head. "No,"
he shook his head again. "I don't... I don't know that
name." But it was a lie. He knew the name. He felt
Murdoch's lips on his throat, the hot rasp of his tongue
on the tender flesh. But his mind had turned inward. He
saw himself on the sling, the crowd around him ignoring
his pleas for help. He felt the strike of leather on his
flesh, the firm slapping on his anus, and he screamed
silently as he was raped.
"You do remember me, Foxling, don't you?" Murdoch
whispered, his hand going up to the pierced nipples and
tugging hard on the little rings, groaning in lust as
Fox gasped with pain.
There was a bath, Mulder could see it, could see himself
on Murdoch's lap, and he recoiled from the lust on his
own face as he rode the big man. The water churned about
them as he came. But it was the words he whispered that
made him shake. "I love you, Alex." The image shattered
like a mirror, little bits and pieces of the image
flying outward. He knew. He remembered what he felt.
Worry that Alex had been hurt... in the apartment when
the men had come and attacked.
Alex.
Alex in white boxers cooking and laughing, then killing
with ruthless efficiency. More memories. Alex looking so
young, not so young as now, but in a terrible suit. Alex
in leather, looking like a wet dream. Him hitting Alex,
pulling at his hair, all the while wanting to kiss those
pink, moist lips. A flood of memories and he cried out
as they assaulted him.
Alex leaped to his feet at Fox's cry. He was in the tent
and beside his restless lover before another breath had
been taken. Another nightmare? Fox was writhing on the
sleeping bag, his mouth open and wet. Hazel eyes stared
up at him, but Alex knew Fox wasn't seeing him. The look
in those eyes made Alex bend to kiss the sweep of lash.
Fox looked terrified. He soothed Fox's brow, "Baby,
you're okay. It's just a dream."
Murdoch frowned at the nature of Fox's memories and he
pulled roughly on one of the nipple rings, forcing Fox's
attention back to him. Fox's eyes grew wider still as he
understood where he was despite not knowing how he was
there. "Yes, prince, you remember me. Did you think I
would allow you to forget? That I would allow some
callow hunter to strip you of that memory? Of whom you
belong to?" With that Murdoch tore at Fox's jeans. "I
will take you again, here in dreams, so that you might
not forget how I can make you scream."
Fox struggled, his mind trying to grasp, to solidify all
the memories fighting for dominance. He fought to keep
those hands off him, but his movements were sluggish. He
could hear Alex. Alex telling him everything was okay,
but it wasn't. He couldn't stop Murdoch. Alex's touch on
his face, but when his frantic eyes looked around the
room he could see no sign of his lover.
Murdoch growled as he sensed the little cat near. Trying
to take Foxling back. He bit at Fox's nipple in
frustrated fury and tore the ring out, his cock
incredibly hard as Fox screamed in pain.
Alex paled as Fox screamed, his eyes not understanding
what he was seeing. Blood was trickling down Fox's chest
and the ring... the ring had vanished. "Fox, godammit
wake up," he shouted, frantic now to rouse him, as Fox
grew rigid and started to shake.
Skinner entered the tent and Alex looked to him in a
panic. "What's happening to him?" Fox screamed again and
Skinner was there to see the other ring disappear.
"Fuck! Jesus! Walter, wake him the hell up!" Alex
growled in frustrated fury as the edges of Fox's jeans
were pulled away from Fox's twisting body, the buttons
ripping open to expose the curled, brown hair of
Mulder's pubis.
"You won't ever hide from me, Foxling. My own Prince,"
Murdoch hissed trying to take Mulder's jeans completely
off. But, Fox resisted more and more; the voices so near
were taking him away from Murdoch. The blood on Fox's
pretty chest at once excited Murdoch and repelled him.
His fury had made him do it. Fox had made him furious.
It was Foxling's fault he bled. The wounds would heal.
The memory of defiance and its consequences would not.
He cupped Mulder's scrotum and squeezed hard, thrilling
to the pleading whimper his loving touch elicited.
The voice of the human ascendant joined Alex's and
Foxling blinked away from his dream. Leaving Murdoch to
open his eyes alone in the growing darkness of his rooms
far above his city.
Mulder fell back into himself, or so it seemed to him.
There was that moment of dislocation and then he was
sitting wrapped in Alex's arms and staring up into
Walter's concerned face. The red glow was there again in
Walter's eyes, and he found himself leaning toward him,
before relaxing back into Alex's sure embrace. He felt
Alex trembling and it took him a moment to realize that
Alex was absorbing the tremors stemming from him. He
tried to quell the shaking of his body while Alex kept
up a soft litany of "Baby, baby, shhh, baby, baby shhh,
baby..." The words had a talismanic quality to them and
Fox leaned deeper into the beloved embrace his trembling
easing bit by little bit.
Skinner caressed Mulder's jaw and Fox tilted his face
into the strong hand, rubbing his cheek into Walter's
steady caress. "Fox? Fox, what happened?" He traced one
strong finger in the blood that trickled down Fox's
chest, staring at the torn nipples with narrowed eyes.
"M-Murdoch," Fox whispered, shuddering anew. "Oh God,
somehow I was with Murdoch." He wanted to tell them that
it had happened once before, but the memories of his
entire life were crowding in, making him feel dizzy,
unanchored from the steady earth and he swayed in his
sitting position, leaning further into Alex.
Scully rushed in, her eyes narrowed. "What happened,
Mulder?" she rasped, looking from one possible villain
to the next. To Alex she appeared as friendly as a
rusted fishhook as her eyes took in her battered
partner. "Why is he bleeding?" she demanded as she made
her way to Mulder's side.
"Scully, I just realized that I dream very vividly,"
Mulder quipped, visibly trying to compose himself in his
partner's presence. Tears that had been threatening to
escape gold-tipped lashes were banished as the shivers
were stilled resolutely. He still leaned deep into
Alex's strong embrace not yet confident enough to leave
that cocoon of security.
Alex was staring at the finger-shaped bruise coming out
on the tender skin of Fox's hips. The bruises parallel
to the v-shaped muscles that framed Mulder's pubis. He
slid his hand around to cover Fox's near nudity from
Scully's gaze and his eyes met Skinner's, both men's
faces grim and shocked.
Scully pushed at Alex's arm, "Krycek, I need to look at
this," she hissed when Alex refused to move his arm.
"Let her look, Alex," Skinner commanded.
When Alex obeyed reluctantly, no one took notice of it.
He stayed close to Mulder's back and watched as Scully
bent to inspect Mulder's chest.
Scully clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "What
happened?"
"Murdoch... somehow was able to reach Mulder in his
sleep. I would have thought it was a dream if I hadn't
seen it for myself. The rings in Mulder's nipples, just
disappeared, like they were torn out," Skinner explained
shakily. The thought of Murdoch being able to access Fox
so easily, so physically, made him nauseous. How
powerful was he? What were his limitations? If he could
get inside Mulder's mind, what was stopping him from
making Mulder call to him? Once called, he could simply
steal Fox away.
"He didn't rip them, he bit them off," Mulder supplied
with a voice that attempted to sound flippant, but
sounded young and scared instead.
"He fucking bit you?" Alex spat out. "That bastard! He
bit them off?"
"He likes to bite," Mulder reminded him. The wounds had
faded from his first encounter with Murdoch, but the
memory of being trapped on Murdoch's plane, sitting on
his lap while Murdoch's hands and mouth devoured him,
made Fox shudder once more. He could only feel the bulk
of that huge cock pressed against his buttock then, but
he had soon become intimately acquainted with it... had
even begged for it, spread his legs wide and twisted his
hips wantonly to get more of it inside him. He flushed
with remembered shame. There were some things he would
rather forget for good.
"I do remember that," Scully quipped, deliberately
matching Mulder's attempt at levity.
"Where was he?" Skinner asked, rubbing the smooth skin
on his skull.
"He... he was in a room... I don't know where, sir, but I
think it was in D.C."
Scully raised her brow at the use of the title. Mulder
hadn't called their superior anything but Walter since
he had been returned from Mikhail. Alex was too busy
kissing Mulder's jaw to notice and Skinner was caught up
in his own thoughts, but Scully stared at her partner
with a more critical eye. When he had said that Murdoch
liked to bite... did he remember the first incident as
well? Were more memories coming to him?
"These will have to be stitched up," Scully decided.
"They aren't bad, one stitch each should do it. Krycek,
I need my bag. It is the black..."
"I know which one it is," Krycek growled, "Go get it,
Skinner. I'm not leaving him." His jade eyes defied
anyone to contradict him, sparkling with a leashed fury
that made Scully want to squirm for its intensity.
"Antonio is coming with it now," Skinner informed them
just as the tent flap was moved aside and Antonio
stepped in, holding Scully's black bag stuffed with all
manner of medical supplies she had gathered in Fort
Bragg.
Mulder took the moment to turn and look into Alex's
face. Though he been in Alex's presence for days, it had
been weeks since he had looked on the pretty face and
known that he was the most important thing in the world
to him. He smiled a bit, receiving only a blank stare in
return. He had to smile a bit; Alex was lost in thought,
restraining his anger just barely. He kissed the angular
jaw and Alex nuzzled him, his green gaze shifting just
enough to inspect Mulder's face.
It scared him that Murdoch could so easily come to
him... could he do the same to Alex?
"What are you doing?" Alex hissed at Scully when she
took out a fairly large needle and began to thread it
with a dark, surgical thread.
"I'm going to stitch him up," Scully replied
quizzically, pausing to stare at the assassin who was
glaring at her.
"With that? It's too big. Find something smaller," Alex
demanded.
"She's the doctor, Alex," Mulder reminded his young
lover.
"And I'm the one telling her she isn't sticking that
fucking oar into your flesh," Alex growled.
Scully ignored him and soaked a cotton swab with
antiseptic wash. She gently laid the swab to the first
nipple. Grimacing as Mulder gasped at the sting. Her
hand was gripped and pulled away from Mulder's chest and
she looked with exasperation into snapping jade.
"You're hurting him, Scully," Alex informed her coldly.
"Alex, she has to clean the wounds, now let her get it
done," Skinner barked, receiving a little glare from
Alex in response. But Alex obeyed.
"Everyone out," Scully said in frustration as Alex
leaned his jaw onto Mulder's shoulder, his arms wrapped
protectively around Mulder's waist. Skinner knelt beside
her... too close for her to maneuver, his eyes watching
her every move critically, though he had the grace to
remain silent. Antonio was staring at Mulder with
something akin to confusion and all she wanted to do was
to get her partner patched up.
Skinner stood reluctantly, but Alex just remained where
he was.
"I'm not leaving," he said finally.
"Scully doesn't like to perform in public," Mulder
soothed pulling away from Alex's embrace. "I mean why
not just have the Gunmen in with video cameras?"
"I'm not leaving," Alex repeated, though he didn't pull
Fox back into his chest.
"Are you okay, Mulder?" Langly asked, as he stuck his
head in.
"I'm in Hell," Mulder moaned in a joking monotone. To
Langly he just held up one thumb.
"Cool, you were making a lot of noise... we thought
Krycek... well you know, we thought he got angry or
something... we would have come in ourselves, but we saw
that the AD Sir and Scully already did. Anyway, Skinner,
AD Sir, there's someone here to speak to you... says you
know him. Real old guy."
"Baku," Skinner rasped. He turned to leave, but paused.
Something was different about Mulder; something felt
different about the things he was thinking. A slow smile
spread across his face and he turned to face his
beautiful lover. "Welcome back, Agent Mulder," he said
before stepping out of the tent.
Krycek frowned after Skinner, but his curiosity wasn't
such as to compel him to leave Fox's side.
Antonio's gaze kept falling to the parted denim and the
strands of hair that curled around temptingly at Fox's
crotch. There was something erotic about the fact that
Fox had just been mauled... that he was displayed like
the pretty piece he was. He could just see the first
swell of tasty flesh nestled in the curled hair, and he
felt his own organ began to throb in time with his
increasing heart rate. Fox smelled so sweet, was so
compelling. He wanted him suddenly with a feverish
desire. Fox's long legs were parted just slightly, the
musk of his hidden flesh like a siren song of desire.
Fox's scent coupled with that of Alex's and Dana's was
nearly too much stimulation and he had to turn and
stumble out of the tent before he took all of them at
once, somehow.
Scully didn't look up as Antonio left. She gave up on
making Krycek leave and bent to the task at hand. "This
will hurt, Mulder, but it will be quick," she assured.
He tried to grin, "Oh you know I love it when you hurt
me, Scully," he teased.
She smiled a bit and sterilized her tools once more
before slipping the tip of the needle into the flesh,
marveling at how little damage had really been done,
considering that Murdoch had apparently bitten Mulder's
nipple rings off. She didn't even want to know when
Mulder had gotten such a thing... only that she knew it
had to be recent. She heard a moan and looked up,
surprised to see Krycek looking as if he were about to
cry. He moaned again as Mulder let out a hissed breath.
"For God's sake, S-scully..." Alex rasped, sounding like
a small child.
"One more," she promised as she tied off the first
stitch. She looked to Mulder who gave her a tired wink
and nodded as she prepared to stitch the second nipple.
"Mmmppff"
Alex ground his teeth at Mulder's sound of pain. Wanting
nothing more than to toss the little redhead out of the
tent... along with her torture devices.
"There. All done. I'm going to give you Tylenol for the
pain," she said briskly, masking her own discomfort at
causing her partner pain. It didn't escape her notice
that of the three of them, Mulder had taken the small
surgery far better than she and Krycek. He had barely
moved or uttered a sound, but she was feeling ill and
Krycek looked like he wanted to kill her and he had
moaned throughout as if he had felt each tug and slide
of the needle. "I'd give you something stronger but that
would be overkill I think."
"Oh, baby, make her give me Morphine! I'm dying here,"
Mulder gasped.
Alex missed the wink Mulder gave Scully and he grabbed
her black bag. "Give him something stronger, Scully. I
mean it."
Mulder sighed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding here. It's
nothing. I've had worse."
Neither his partner or his lover seemed to be clueing in
to the fact that he was making reference, albeit subtly,
to past events, but instead of calling them on it, he
allowed Scully to hand him the bottle of Tylenol and
said nothing.
Scully leaned to the side to reach one of several
bottles of Evian that Antonio had placed in every tent.
She handed one to Mulder and before she could say
anything, Mulder grinned.
"Don't tell me, take two and call you in the morning?"
"Fox," Alex scolded him for his levity as Scully smiled
and shook her head. She quickly bandaged his nipples and
instructed him to not remove the bandages. "They might
get infected, Mulder, and then they won't heal as
quickly as I suspect they should."
"Oh, he won't," Alex assured her. He pulled the edge of
the sleeping bag up again, once he noticed that Mulder's
sex was partially revealed. The bastard Murdoch wasn't
just intent on removing Mulder's nipple rings. He had
been tearing off his clothes as well. He clenched the
muscles in his jaw again. Murdoch could have raped him
and he would have been forced to watch it. He had been
shaking Fox and calling to him, but Fox was too far gone
into whatever place Murdoch had stalked him. It had only
been Skinner who had been able to reach him. One word
from Skinner and Fox had come to.
Another reason they needed Skinner?
Fuck.
He was so deep in thought he was startled by Fox's hand
on his thigh, squeezing gently. He looked down at those
long fingers and smiled. He loved Fox's fingers. They
were analogous of the rest of Fox's lovely body. He
looked up into Fox's eyes and frowned a bit at the
intent look Fox was giving him. He looked away and
stubbornly moved closer to Fox. He didn't care if Fox
was still upset with him about the scene by the river;
he wasn't leaving his side. Not one chance in Hell. Not
one.
"Scully, thank you," Fox murmured. "I think I'm set
now."
She gave Alex a hard glance. "No wild stuff until that
heals, Krycek," she admonished.
Alex shook his head, looking surprised that she would
even mention it. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt
him, Scully." He narrowed his eyes a bit. "I don't need
to tell you that or anything like it. He's my lover."
Mulder held his hand up as Scully opened her mouth to
reply, "Look you two, it is nice that you both care, but
I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. So,
Scully, you can leave now assured that I am in no
danger. And I swear, Alex will not do anything to make
you wish you had let me shoot him when you had the
chance."
Scully and Alex stared at him a bit confused, but Scully
left with one last glance at the dark-haired man who sat
so close to her partner.
When she had gone Alex stroked Mulder's arm and sighed.
"I... I'm sorry, baby, I know it is strange to you, but I
hate to be told to be careful with you... like I would
really do something to hurt you." Alex gave Mulder a
look from beneath a shutter of sooty lashes, the green
of his eyes a startling contrast to the pitch of their
borders. He lowered his gaze as Fox continued to stare
at him implacably. He made to move away in order to find
his silent lover another shirt to wear but Fox stilled
him with one hand on his bicep.
"Hey, you," Fox sighed, his voice quiet yet somehow
jubilant for all the hush.
Alex frowned. "Hey."
"You know, I think that I have either a lot of reasons
to kick you out of this tent or a few to keep you here,
what do you think?"
Alex shook his head and without letting Fox continue he
twisted around so that his arms were about Fox's waist
with his face pressed into Fox's lap. "I won't leave
you, baby. I don't want to. Please don't make me. I love
you."
"Don't, Alex..." Fox began.
"No. I won't let you think that I don't love you. I do.
I'm sorry that I said anything about Garren. I am. I
don't care about anything but you. I wish you could just
believe me." He kissed Fox's hip, his chin rubbing the
gentle swell of Fox's sex, still trapped in the denim.
"I do believe you, babe," Fox whispered. "I remember the
first time you said it.
Alex froze. Not sure what Fox meant. Did he mean the
first time Alex had ever said it, or the first time the
forgetful Fox had heard it just days ago?
"You put your head down like this then too, babe. God,
I'd never heard anyone say it before... not anyone who
meant it really. It was like having all my dreams come
true, all in one small declaration."
Alex raised his face to meet Fox's gaze. "What? Baby,
what? You remember?"
Fox stroked his lover's face with a soft hand. "I
remember everything... how I slammed you up against the
wall thinking I was going insane, but not caring as long
as I could taste you... touch you. I remember how quick
it all happened... the trip to San Francisco and the
morning... you were wearing white boxers and God how I
wanted to eat you alive... everything. I remember it
all." The last was almost too quiet to hear but Alex
heard.
"I thought I had lost you," Alex admitted in a choked
voice. He lowered his face back to Fox's lap. "You said
you loved Skinner... I was going crazy." He squeezed
tight trying to stop from shaking... relief flooding him.
Fox remembered him! It was overwhelming. He found to his
horror that he wanted to sob in relief. Wanted to wrap
himself so tightly to Fox that they would become
one... so that he would never again lose him.
Fox tried to bend over Alex but the pain in his chest
kept him from fully covering the younger man. "I'm
sorry, babe, I can't imagine forgetting you, but that is
what Mikhail wanted. I couldn't be a good slave if I
constantly wanted to escape to my beautiful lover, now
could I?"
Alex shook his head, not moving from the warmth of Fox's
lap, he smelled the musky warmth, the familiar scent of
the man he adored and he never wanted to move. "No." The
stroke of Fox's hand in his hair was addictive, a
thousand times more arousing than any stroke from
another. He almost purred like the cat Garren called
him. "He made you forget it all."
"Especially you, Alex... the one thing I wanted to
remember more than anything."
"More than Skinner?" Alex questioned and the uncertainty
in his voice made Mulder want to cry. The confident
assassin sounded like a lost, little boy.
"More than anything in the world... more than Walter,
more than Scully or the Gunmen or even myself... baby,
you are everything to me... everything that I wanted to
fight for... he had to take you from me."
Alex rose from his supplicant position and hooked his
hand behind Mulder's neck. He paused to look at the
swollen lips a moment before drawing them to him with a
sigh. "I want to kiss you, Fox," he husked.
"I want you to kiss me too," Fox purred already sliding
his knees further apart in response to the arousal in
Alex's voice. "I want you to kiss me, to touch me... to
fuck me. God, I want you, Alex." He grinned then against
Alex's pretty, bowed lips. "My sweet little Angel."
Alex chuckled and licked Fox's lower lip. "So you aren't
as perceptive as you like to think."
"Why?" Fox purred as he shifted his hips in wanton
invitation. "Because I thought you were an angel?"
"Mmm hmmm," Alex groaned, feeling the hard outline of
Fox's erection on his belly. "An angel is something I
think no one in their right mind would call me."
"Oh, but you are," Fox husked, wanting nothing more than
his angel to spread his legs and fuck him so hard he
screamed. "You are my angel."
"I'll be anything you want... I am a good actor..."
"You're good at lots of things," Fox sighed as Alex
relented and let himself be drawn over Fox's now supine
form, careful not to press into Fox's chest. Fox spread
his legs about Alex's waist. "I need you inside me,
Alex. I want to be yours again."
"You always were mine, Fox," Alex insisted, looking into
Fox's wide eyes. "Only mine."
But are you mine, Fox thought before Alex's lips claimed
his, burning away any qualms with the satin and heat of
his tongue.
McClellan Air Force Base
The room was large, but not so large that it dwarfed the
four cylinders that stood floor to ceiling in the center
of the room. Inside the glass tubes were young men,
covered in twitching gossamer tubes that sent out
thousands of electrical impulses every minute, moving
constantly over flawless skin.
"How are they progressing," Spender queried, fingering
the unlit cigarette in his hand. He could see the
obvious; the clones were growing at the accelerated rate
nicely, but he had no idea or experience with this type
of development of clones. Always before, clones were
conceived, duplicated in tubes and gestated until
infancy and then taken out to progress normally. The
clones of Mulder had never been removed from the
accelerators and even the scientists in the room
experienced with cloning had little idea of what to
expect.
The aliens had assured them all that the process was not
harmful. They had produced millions of clones in this
way when invasions had demanded quick access to a supply
of soldiers.
However, they had never seen the physiology that these
clones exhibited. They were neither human nor alien... a
hybrid of some sort, but what type they were uncertain.
There were extra base pairs in the DNA structure that
had never been seen in nature, celestial or otherwise.
One of the scientists stroked the glass of the tube
closest to him, "They are certainly beautiful," he
sighed.
Spender shook his head. Useless human weakness. The
medical staff had, from the first, been untowardly
attached to the clones. They had shown a bit too much
enthusiasm in watching the clones develop. Bill Mulder
had yet to visit the clones, choosing instead to prepare
the way to the meeting with Murdoch.
"I am not interested in their physical appearance as
much as their physical soundness," Spender rasped. "Will
they function outside the incubators?"
"They should do fine, if the data we have been given is
to be believed," the doctor mused, still reluctant to
move away from the glass tube. The electrical impulses
within the bluish liquid illuminated the clone in a wash
of azure light, making an eerie glow on the white skin
of the clone.
Spender turned and left without another word, making his
way down a darkened corridor, taking lefts and rights
without pause until he came to a doorway that, unlike
the doorway to the main medical lab, was unguarded. He
punched in a five-digit code into the doorlock and while
the light turned green on the lock he wondered what his
assassin was doing at that moment. When he entered the
room to find the solitary cylinder in the room, and the
softly swaying clone inside it, he wondered too if this
was not the key to his assassin's heart.
He ignored the two scientists in the room and walked to
the cylinder and stared at the clone, the likeness to
Fox Mulder astounding him though he had seen thousands
of clones before. The clone was young... perhaps not yet
eighteen physical years, but the progress, like its
brothers in the medical lab, was amazing. In another few
hours they would be birthed, utterly without experience
of any kind... lambs to the slaughter, without language
or sensory development. The four in the lab... the only
clones as far as Bill Mulder and the majority of the
team in Sacramento knew, would be sent to Murdoch, this
one... this one was Spender's alone. His secret.
The two scientists who worked on its progress were
completely loyal to Spender alone, they would never
betray him to anyone. Bill would never know of this lone
clone... and once it had been birthed and judged
physically sound, well then the scientists, those loyal
fools, would have to be silenced in the most efficient
way.
There was only one way to bait a rat trap after all. And
Spender couldn't afford any loose ends. Bill might be
utterly preoccupied at the moment, but it wouldn't do
for him to ever know of this little theft. As Spender
watched the clone and the life giving electrical tubes
caressing its long body, it opened its eyes. The hazel
glow alien in the blue liquid.
Salmon Falls, CA
Skinner approached Baku with forced calm. The last time
he had seen this man, he had been upsetting his
family... upsetting Skinner himself so that he had lost
Fox to that damnable vampire.
The old man stood straight with his hands clasped
lightly behind his back. His eyes bored into Walter's
and again Walter felt as if he should know this man.
There was something about the way the man stared at him,
as if he was at once impatient and proud; it was a look
that was nearly paternal.
"You do try my patience, old man," he said in a low
voice.
"Your patience is not as wide as it was a month ago,
Skinner," Baku said lightly, tapping his foot in the
soft dirt of the camp. "You should make Fox and Alex
wear the medallions. The vampire would not have sensed
anything out of the ordinary with either of them... and
there would be no reason to risk your wrath on a mere
human."
Skinner raised one brow. In truth he had once again
forgotten about the medallions. They were packed away
with the rest of Fox's things, but he said nothing of
this to Baku. Instead he lowered his chin and stared
intently into the brown eyes before him, "You came here
to tell me that?"
"No, I came to try to convince you of the necessity of
allying with The Garren. And the sooner the better."
Baku nodded his head at Antonio who came to stand beside
Skinner.
"Why would he want to do that?" Antonio questioned. He
was still upset that Garren had so easily usurped his
place when Skinner had gone after the sweet little fox.
"Because while you two take a little vacation, enjoying
the coastal beauty of California, the rest of the world
is at war." He shook his head as Antonio made to speak.
"Don't deny that you know the plight of some of your
brothers. One in Africa is nearly defeated by Murdoch's
forces."
Skinner felt the truth of Baku's words and he spared a
glance at Antonio whose lips had gone straight in a grim
line.
"Do you think you will have a leisurely life once you
reach your southern destination?" Baku asked of Antonio.
"So you think that Murdoch will be content to rule only
part of the world? He has planned for thousands of years
to take over the entire world and you think he will not
move forward with his plans? Don't think that because
you travel with Skinner that you are as big a threat to
Murdoch as is Skinner. When you leave the nest, you will
be as vulnerable as your brothers across the seas." He
turned to Skinner. "Let your thoughts go out to your
brother... know that he is almost sacrificed to your
pride and disdain."
Skinner tensed with anger as Baku turned his words on
him. But, still there was some truth to them. They, the
ascendants who had chosen not to align with Murdoch had
a responsibility to one another... it was understood, but
he had been so focused on Fox and Alex and Fort Bragg
and the people there, that he had forgotten to look at
the big picture. He could feel his brother's struggle,
the fear and the exhaustion. But what could he have
done?
"What do you want? You think that if I align with Garren
then my brothers around the world will benefit? What do
I need with a pack of wolves that I can easily destroy?"
Baku looked startled for a moment, before he began to
cackle. "Confidence is not your weak point, is it, boy?
For as long as the Dorl have watched the Mediggo, the
pack has been by the Ascendant's side."
"Yes, yes, you told me all this before... so what?"
Skinner was getting impatient.
"In that time we have had the opportunity to study them.
They are not so easily destroyed... the young ones yes,
as you have seen, an ascendant can bring them down. The
older wolves are more difficult to destroy. More
difficult than you can imagine. You have felt the force
of Garren... you must sense it on a level only those of
the Opening can know. He, you could not destroy... at
least not without a lot more force than you can muster.
Hurt him, yes, but he can hurt you as well."
Antonio shifted on his feet and yet kept his expression
schooled, mimicking Skinner's.
"The older the wolf, the stronger the wolf," Baku
explained. "Those of the blood, what we might refer to
as a royal family, are naturally stronger, more able to
control the change, but all wolves grow stronger as they
age. There are wolves that roam that make Garren seem
like a weak infant... hard though that is to believe. He
is young for a wolf, their lives are so long as to seem
to be immortal. These old wolves, Skinner, could tear
Garren into pieces."
"Then why not align with one of the older, stronger
wolves," Antonio queried. "If we want to align with a
wolf at all... though I see no benefit in it."
"Because Garren is the leader. Uncontested. Absolute.
Absolute in a way a human leader has never achieved.
There is no wolf that will stand against him, weak or
strong young or old. Even the oldest would tear out
their own beating heart if he but commanded it. You must
understand the pack if you are to benefit from it.
Wolves are loyal to three things only. First to the
Garren, then to their mate, then to the pack. Only the
Garren can put the mate before all other things. But,
you must understand that wolves think the pack is made
stronger when there is one leader and when mates are
taken for life." Baku reached out a hand and tapped
Skinner's muscular forearm. "With Garren at your side,
the whole pack worldwide will do your bidding, fight
your battles... protect your allies. But, you need
Garren."
Skinner frowned. He could feel the truth and he knew
that Antonio could as well. An alliance with Garren
would be beneficial. But at what cost?
"Too, though most wolves are without rational thought in
the change, when they are in wolf form, they are as
clever as any human when in human form. They can plot
and scheme like any other. Too, the bloodline of Garren
is not the only line that can maintain rational thought
when changed, it is the minority to be sure, this
thinking population, but it is deadly." Baku paused and
waited for the weight of what he'd said to sink in. "You
know too, Skinner, that there are ancient, powerful
wolves making their way here, don't you?"
Skinner nodded, he had felt the approach of several such
creatures, but had not wanted to admit to himself that
they might pose a threat. In truth he had known them to
be wolves and had assumed that Garren would keep them in
line. One was coming across ice and snow to the north,
travelling without sleep or rest, with a stamina that
seemed unending. Another, oddly to him, was coming via a
sailing vessel. It shouldn't be odd, he supposed, these
creatures were alive before the invention of the first
ocean going vessels, surely they would have the skill to
navigate and to sail one.
There was one more, but he could not get enough of an
image of this one to determine where it was coming from
or how near it was. That in itself disturbed him
greatly.
"They are coming for one reason only, Skinner. To
protect the Garren's mate."
Antonio choked and Skinner closed his eyes for a brief
moment. "Protect him?" His voice was tired.
Baku took a steadying breath, he could sense that
Skinner was coming to his side, but it was a delicate
shift. "Yes, protect him from any manner of things; from
the cold, from attack, from hunger or boredom or any
displeasure... it is a great honor. One that has fallen
to very young pack members since Garren has taken him.
But, that was necessity. The old ones have earned the
honor and they will take it very seriously. You will do
well to take them seriously too, Skinner. They will take
your best shot, smile and come for your throat. Do not
toy with them."
"He keeps Garren in line," Antonio said sullenly. He
didn't like the tenor of the conversation. They were
ascendants. They should fear nothing.
"Because Garren's mate would be displeased were Skinner
to be harmed... more than that... and actually more
interestingly, because Fox Mulder would be hurt by it.
You see how delicate it is?" Baku smiled. "The Garren
has taken a mate and the mate already has a lover... the
lover is not expendable as he is far too beautiful and
highly changed besides so Garren must accept him. In
fact he would most likely claim him were it not for his
mate's wishes to the contrary."
"You better speak plainly, old man. What does Fox have
to do with this?" Skinner barked. He could scent even
now the musk of Alex and Fox's passion. They were so
involved with each other that Skinner knew they were
unaware of anything but the slide of skin and the heat
of their kisses. It was a condition that was not
entirely brought on by their change. The two would have
tuned out anyone even before the change had rendered
them helpless to their sexual needs. Still, the allure
of the two made him glower at Baku for his unwelcome
message and the reality of it.
"Fox is the key to Alex, Alex is the key to Garren.
Garren is your key to the safety of the world and
Murdoch's destruction," Baku said in a steady voice
despite his growing excitement at Skinner's growing
acceptance.
Skinner looked at Antonio and saw the recognition of the
veracity of the old man's words. He also saw the same
resentment in those black eyes that he felt. But still.
An alliance with Garren would serve he and his well.
Very well. He knew it was something he would have to
face, but to give up his claim to Alex was something he
was not eager to do. Even though, in the beginning he
had resented the green-eyed beauty, he now reveled in
his ownership of him.
"Garren will not turn against Murdoch," Skinner said,
more in an attempt to deny the inevitable.
"He will to protect his mate." Baku looked sly, younger
than his years as he felt the pieces of the puzzle begin
to fit together. "Simply suggest to Garren that for the
protection of his mate, he should ally with you. Remind
him of Murdoch's gentle care of Alex the last time
Garren brought his mate before his old master. But don't
delay Skinner, I fear one of your brothers is already
lost. Don't wait. He will be here by nightfall."
Both Skinner and Antonio knew he referred to Garren.
At Skinner's reluctant nod and Antonio's grim face, Baku
sighed in relief. "He will be angered that you took his
mate without permission..."
Skinner began to redden in anger and Baku lifted a
placating hand.
"He's already allowed you liberties with him, Skinner.
You must accept that Alex is his now. You must or
the alliance is gone and Murdoch takes everything in the
end. Especially Fox."
Skinner stilled himself with an effort and Antonio shook
his head. "You ask that Skinner just hand over a changed
male so easily?"
"A changed male for the security of millions? I think it
a fair trade" Baku growled, his own ire showing for the
first time. "There are hundreds of changed humans, only
a handful of decent ascendants."
"I will not allow Garren to take Alex from Fox. I can
give him up... for the right reason, but I will not take
him from Fox... not for anything in the world." Skinner's
face was filled with a mixture of loss and sorrow and
defiant anger.
Baku nodded. "You give up a lot. Perhaps Garren will
share his mate." He didn't elaborate. He knew that
eventually Garren would take Fox, for what wolf could
resist him? He would perhaps let Skinner use Alex for
the use of Fox. More likely he would want to take Fox
and Alex together. Perhaps Skinner would enjoy watching
it... perhaps even participating. "Alex will go willingly
to Garren, Skinner. He will be growing restless for him
even now."
Skinner could sense Alex's full attention devoted to
pleasing Fox, but he didn't bother to inform Baku of
that fact. He could well-imagine how attentive the
assassin would be. Gently hovering above Fox's body. Fox
with his legs spread, his lips panting, swollen flesh
touched with strong fingers. Alex's lips bowed in avid
worship. He could hear them now, Fox begging to be
taken, Alex refusing to do more than kiss him, worried
that he might disturb Fox's stitches.
Antonio was distracted too by the scent of the two. Baku
sighed. He had done enough for now. He would leave
before any of the old wolves or the Garren himself
arrived in the small camp. Wolves were decidedly less
forgiving of slight than these two human ascendant.
"Ple-please, Alex... I want it... it won't hurt. I can sit
on you," Fox begged once more, as Alex trailed fire up
and down his torso, wet lips sucking Fox's flesh. He was
lying nude on the sleeping bag. Alex had taken off the
jeans, frowning at the ripped crotch, but saying
nothing.
"No," Alex replied, again.
"Please?"
"No, baby, not until your stitches heal a bit."
"Ohhh... but..."
"But nothing, baby." Alex looked up into Fox's frantic
eyes. They were both nearly mindless with the heat of
passion, every slide of skin so enticing, every taste of
flesh an erotic fantasy. He wanted to slam inside Fox.
Push those long legs up high and tight and pound in hot
and hard, remind Fox of who he really belonged to,
remind him of how good it was between them this way. But
instead he slid his mouth down to Fox's weeping cock and
licked at the tip.
"Can I just eat you, baby," Alex moaned, his husky
excitement making Fox whimper.
"Al-alex," Fox moaned. He watched the pink lips part,
jade staring up at him beneath a curtain of soot. He
couldn't help but move his hips a bit at the sexy sight
of his cock sliding into that pretty mouth. Loved that
Alex was watching him. "Oh, God, that's... mmmm."
Alex loved the taste, the silky slide of skin. Fox's
legs were already far apart, in typical wanton fashion
making Alex moan around the thick flesh. Fox was such a
wanton slut, it made him want to pound into him even
more, make his baby cry and beg. When Fox lifted his
knees, placing the soles of his feet on the sleeping
bag, Alex moaned again, the vibration making Fox cry out
with pleasure.
He wet his fingers and caressed the flesh of Fox's
perineum, moving lower, grinning as Fox lifted his hips
eagerly. He slid off Fox's cock, "You want me to finger
fuck you, baby?"
Fox's only response was an eager gasp.
"No? Oh and you are so hot and ready, baby," Alex
teased. He pushed hard into Fox's prostate gland and Fox
cried out.
"Alex! Don't tease me," he begged.
"So you want me to finger you?"
Fox nodded frantically, humping his hips up and down in
desperate invitation. "Mmm."
"I can't hear you, baby," Alex growled, lapping at Fox's
swollen penis.
"Yes, yes, please finger fuck me... please finger
me... finger fuck me, Alex. Pl-please," Fox begged
obediently.
It inflamed Alex more than he could have imagined. Fox
was too beautiful, too hotly needy. He lapped a course
with his tongue, swabbing the tight pucker with
lascivious, growling with desperation himself. Fox's
whimpers of appreciation, his scissoring legs and the
taste of him all served to make Alex want to scream in
frustration. While he knew Fox would welcome him inside
of him, he himself did not want to risk hurting Fox in
his passion.
He nipped at the tight flesh, growling as Fox's hips
bucked in response. He wrapped a fist about Fox's cock
and while he nibbled and licked as the tight opening he
moved his hand in a rhythmic motion in time to Fox's
thrusting hips. When the puckered flesh of Fox's anus
relaxed under his ministrations he slid a finger inside,
thrilling to Fox's gasp.
He slid the digit in and out and circled a bit, still
licking and nibbling the relaxed muscle. He thumbed the
satiny head of Fox's cock and had to chuckle at Fox's
strangled scream.
"You're such a slut, baby," he whispered, caught by the
flushed beauty of Fox's face.
"Please do me, Alex," Fox panted. "I'll be good... you
don't have to worry... it won't hurt."
"No!" Alex gritted his teeth. "God, no!"
"Why?" Fox whined.
Alex groaned. "Baby, you know why..."
"Please. I need you... I haven't had you... not since
before... before Mikhail... only Walter."
Alex narrowed his eyes at that. It was true. Where
Skinner had reclaimed Mulder's body after he had been
returned, Alex had not... not in the way Fox was begging
him to do. But, he didn't want to reclaim him at the
cost of hurting him. Fox was staring up at him with eyes
that were full of clouded entreaty. How could he resist
him? When all he wanted to do was please him?
"When you are healed, Fox... please... when you're
healed." He voice was desperate now. He knew what was
best, but he couldn't tell Fox no for long... not when
all he wanted to do was say yes.
Fox shifted under him, spreading his legs further and
pouting. "But I need you, Alex," he whined. Tears of
frustration started to make the moss colored eyes gleam
and Alex was lost.
"On your back and no wild stuff," he growled as Fox
suddenly beamed and nodded his head eagerly. Alex half
expected him to say, 'goody!' but all he did was place
one leg up on Alex's shoulder.
"Yes, Alex... no rough stuff and spread out on my back
like this," Fox purred, nearly content.
Alex groaned. Fox looked so beautiful, his head to the
side, his lips moist, his eyes shining.
"You can do it now," Fox said when Alex still hesitated.
"Give me a second, baby, or there really will be rough
stuff," Alex panted, trying to control the sudden urge
to slam into Fox and pound him through the fabric of the
tent.
Fox simply licked his lips and moaned. When Alex finally
began to penetrate him, both men were breathing harshly
and staring into each other's eyes. Afraid to put
pressure on Fox's chest, Alex lifted Fox a bit, taking
his weight on his shoulders. He pushed all the way into
Fox's tight warmth and began to thrust, slow and steady.
Fox stared at his beautiful lover, loving that Alex
hadn't even bothered to undress. He loved being nude
while Alex remained clothed. Though Alex's body was
indeed fantastic there was something extra sensual in
the disparity in clothing. Something lustful. Alex was
trying to be so gentle, but Fox could see the passion
building, knew that Alex would begin to thrust hard and
deep soon enough. They were both trying to contain the
sounds of their lust, ever fearful that Scully might
charge in with murder in her eyes.
But when Alex lost control and began to pound hard into
Fox's writhing body, neither man could contain their
cries of pleasure. Throughout, Alex refrained from
leaning into Fox, and so kept pressure off the wounded
nipples, but later he would recall the few instances of
Mulder wincing in pain and berate himself harshly. But,
in the midst of their coupling neither could have
stopped.
"Play with yourself, baby," Alex commanded hoarsely,
using both hands to hold Mulder's hips lifted off the
ground.
Fox took his swollen penis in his hands and began to
caress his own flesh while Alex stared down at the
sight. The slippery head, wet with precum, slid through
Fox's fingers and Alex wanted nothing more than to bend
to taste it. He groaned in frustration that he dared
not. When Fox began to buck wildly, sliding his fist
over his cock faster and faster Alex knew Fox was about
to come.
"Al-Alex... oh... yeah... there... there... that's... that's..."
The spasming muscles of Fox's rectum heralded the orgasm
milliseconds before Fox's cock exploded, sending spurts
of come over Alex's chest and his own, taut belly.
The clenching muscles were so tight, Alex could barely
move and he cried out with Fox as he came. He thrust
several more times reflexively, only slowly letting
Fox's hips down as he calmed. He smiled softly, looking
down at Fox. Seeing the eyes dazed, the long lashes
slowly moving up and down. He had to slide out of Fox to
lay at his side and Fox never even registered that Alex
had moved. Alex kissed the mole that drove him crazy,
pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it. He felt a
bit like a lecher, enjoying Fox when Fox was unaware.
But, it was hot too. He licked at the plump lips, parted
them with his tongue and bit at the generous flesh.
"God, I love you, Fox," he hissed. "I love you so much."
Fox didn't respond and he moaned with the pleasure of
knowing he had fucked his lover senseless. "You're
fucking great for my ego, baby." He kissed Fox once more
then curled contentedly at his side to wait for Fox to
come back from his zone. Fox's slurred words made him
smile.
"I love you too, angel."
Monte Rio, CA
Garren stopped to drink from a small pond. He had been
running all night and he wasn't in a pleasant mood. He
had returned from his hunt to find what he already knew,
the ascendant had taken his mate and gone south. It was
unforgivable nearly. In any other situation this outrage
would be resolved in only one way, the one who had taken
his mate would die. But, things were strange for the
pack and its leader, too. What was to be a time of
freedom from the shadows, a time of standing at
Murdoch's side as he ruled the world, was now a time
completely different. He splashed water on his chest,
ignoring the chill that pebbled his nipples instantly.
He was completely taken with his mate... stupid with the
desire to please him, which drastically altered his
actions... not killing the old man and not making Skinner
pay for his theft were just some of the more egregious
examples of his softness. He was, for the first time
since taking the leadership of the pack from his aging
father, not at Murdoch's side, was in fact unconcerned
with Murdoch's safety. He could take care of himself now
that he had become.
He shook the excess water from his face with a
disgruntled shake and stood. There were members of the
pack nearby, but sensing his ire they were staying away
from him lest he turn that ire on them. For two nights
he had been away from his mate. The ascendant wasn't too
far away now, Garren would reach him by nightfall, but
it angered him nonetheless. His cat would be needing him
soon, the spore would see to that. Eventually Alex would
accept his place and then Garren's life would return to
normal. Better than normal for he would have a beautiful
cat to warm his bed.
When he reached him that is. He growled softly aching to
change, to race non-stop to Alex's side and confront the
larcenous ascendant. But, he splashed more water on his
face and forced the change away. A rustling in the low
brush brought his head up. He narrowed his eyes into
slits as he saw the group of tottering, shuffling dead
things that made their way toward him. Their eyes were
drooling some foul, black liquid and their faces were
blank, displaying no sign of the hunger that made their
movements quicken as they caught his scent.
Five of them. Four males and a female. There was still
the dirt of the grave on them, covering their bodies and
caking in the fingernails extended toward him. He could
hear more rustling and excited moaning coming from the
direction the first five had come and with his hearing
focused he could make out the tread of perhaps fifteen
more of the dead things. He looked up across the pond he
had stopped beside and saw the southern tip of a small
cemetery. The first five were closing in on him just as
the brush parted to reveal their hungry reinforcements.
He grinned. And let them come. The first grabbed at him
and he tore its head off with a human-shaped hand.
Changing would make no sport of this, would in fact end
it too quickly. He drove a fist into the chest of the
next and lifted it off its feet while his hand was
covered in its cold insides. He heard the restless howls
of the nearest pack members gathering the pack. But he
ignored them. They wouldn't dare spoil his fun, but they
would come anyway, to make sure it remained fun.
He fell into the slaughter with something akin to pure
joy. He ripped into the throat of one of the newcomers
with his teeth and quickly pushed it away spitting and
choking at the vile taste. What had once been succulent
human flesh was now putrid and fit only for worms.
Because the taste had so offended him he let his hand
become a claw and he tore the offender in two with a
snarl, still spitting out the taste. He paused long
enough to rinse out his mouth before he began to hunt
the rest of his would-be attackers.
When they all lay dead... again, Garren cleaned himself
of their blackish blood. These zombies would only rise
from the recently dead, or those that had kept enough
flesh to fuel the hunger. If humans but burned their
dead as civilized creatures did, the zombies would cease
to exist. The deterioration would continue even on the
reanimated and soon they would fall down where they
stood and twitch and moan until there was nothing left
of them.
The killing had made him feel a bit better and once he
was clean he changed and began the last of this run to
his mate. He couldn't help the twinge of worry for him.
The thought of him cold or hungry or mistreated by
Skinner in some way lent speed to his run. He knew the
worries were groundless, Skinner wouldn't hurt him, but
he was helpless to prevent the worry. He would only
really be comfortable with Alex's safety when he himself
was there to assure it.
Washington D.C.
Murdoch received his prize with a cold smile. He twisted
his fingers into its hair and tilted it so he could
stare into the deep brown eyes. Awareness sparked in
those honey depths and Murdoch spit in their drying
recesses. It was time to make a public appearance of
triumph.
He freed his fingers from the soft curls and gestured
for the gathered first bloods to come near.
"I want as many of the citizens of my city brought to
The Mall. I will make an appearance at the foot of the
statue of Lincoln. When I finish my speech the statue is
to be torn down, and construction of a new one to begin.
I think you can assume safely of whom."
The man who had once been the Director of the FBI,
Babcock was the first to leave to go attend his master'
bidding. The new world was one in which he had all his
dreams answered; plenty of males to own... especially
those young college types, the ones that were always
tuning up their pretty noses at him in the former world.
He grinned. Now the very same lovelies were struggling
to find favor with him. Little whores, all of them.
Willing to suck cock, spread their legs, open their
asses... anything, any perverse pleasure they would
attend as long as they could be made safe from Murdoch's
hunters.
A little obedience to the Ascendant was more than worth
the bounty of being a first blood in this world.
He moved toward the camp, feeling the prickling unease
at the presence of such a powerful ascendant. Surely
almost as strong as the old master would have become.
That one would be a worthy opponent event to one such as
himself. There was another ascendant, not deadly to him,
but to the majority of the pack. He could scent the many
different changed humans, one more changed then the
others, intoxicatingly changed, and in a highly sexually
aroused state. It made him growl just a bit. But, he was
not here to dally with fine flesh. He was here to
protect the mate. A human mate, a changed human mate at
that. He grinned. The young Garren was indeed trying to
make things difficult for himself. Those of the blood
had to reproduce so he would have to take a female wolf
at some point, but would the mate allow it?
The pack would demand it.
But would the mate allow it?
That was the question.
He grinned again, already eager to watch his young
Garren fall over himself to please the mate. It was his
first. The young Garren was fierce, fiercer still than
even his own father, who spent years weighing the
consequences of outcomes and who until his dying day had
tried to force his heir to think things through. The old
Garren had died not displeased with his young son
though, he knew. The young Garren was what the pack
needed in this time of change.
Brutal and fierce, but brilliant as well.
He was still a bit stunned that the pack served Murdoch
no longer. He had lived nearly longer than Murdoch and
the pack had always served him. The Garrens were always
at his side. But no longer.
He shrugged. It wasn't for him to say, certainly not for
him to question the Garren's decision. If the Garren
wanted to explain he would, if not, then not.
A lock of silvery black hair fell into his face and he
brushed it away with a large hand. His amber eyes glowed
a bit in the shadows of the sparse trees as he realized
just who the young changed male was in rut with. The
mate.
He shook his head, trying not to chuckle. He knew
already of the quandary his Garren was in with the mate
having his own mate already. Again. It was not his to
say. He would simply protect. Just as he had protected
the young Garren when he was but a pup. It was enough.
He walked in to camp and smiled at the look on the faces
of the people there. He looked into the most powerful
ascendant's eyes and said, "I am here to protect the
mate. Do you stand between me and he then we will
battle. Do you stand aside and allow me to stand vigil
then we wait for the Garren in peace."
He was impressed that the human ascendants, both of them
seem unperturbed by his presence when he knew they could
sense his strength. He nodded back as the larger
ascendant nodded in acquiescence. He paused beside him
and because the man seemed to be a fighter, he
elaborated, something he would never have deigned to do
for a mere human. "It is an honor to guard him. I will
not interfere in your camp."
Skinner, who had been taken utterly aback by the
presence of the huge man in the center of his camp, a
man who was Garren's size, maybe a bit smaller, but who
radiated a power that Skinner could not fathom. He
seemed tired though, to Skinner. Not physically tired
really, but tired in another way. The amber eyes were
not unkind, and they held a wisdom that none of the
other wolves, with the exception of Garren, had
portrayed, even in human form.
But he knew the wolf would not be a grandfatherly sort.
He was true to his word however and simply walked to the
tent in which Alex and Fox were quieting, circled it
once and then sat to the east side of it. Skinner lifted
his face to the dusky twilight and wanted to scream. But
the now deafening silence of his brother in Africa
stilled him.
How many more sacrifices would he have to make? How many
times would he be forced to retreat? He steeled himself
then. He would speak with Garren of an alliance. If
Garren was willing then they would become allies.
It was only a few hours later that Garren entered the
camp.
McClellan Air Force Base
Spender rapped on Bill Mulder's bedroom door, waking the
other man.
When Bill answered the door he was still tying a silk
robe about his waist. "This had better be good."
Spender smiled, patted the pack of cigarettes in his
pocket as if to assure himself of their presence. "The
clones are being birthed."
Bill didn't show his surprise. "Already?" he asked
turning back into his bedroom.
Spender followed unbidden and made his way to the large
window, which overlooked the entire base, lit by the
greenish, alien light. "They are fully formed and aged
to approximately their twenty-third year."
"Still so young," Bill mused unhappily.
Spender sighed. "Would another year or three really make
them better prepared to be concubines?"
Bill turned a glare on his old friend. "Don't think I am
happy to send parts of my son to him... but I will. I
would even send my son as well. I would do it in a
heartbeat to save all that we have worked for." He moved
toward his temporary wardrobe to find the appropriate
garb in which to meet his son's clones. "In fact, it is
my sacrifice that will save us, Spender. Murdoch will be
thrilled to be gifted such bounty... especially when it
comes from me, the father. He will know the sacrifice I
make."
Spender nodded, not watching as the older man dressed.
"How many are there?"
Spender barely held a gasp in at the question. "What do
you mean? There are four, Bill, you know that."
"All four are birthing now?" Bill's voice showed no
surprise, just interest. It showed no suspicion either.
"Yes, yes all four are birthing. In fact we are missing
the first one I should think."
Bill made a sound of discontent and then with one last
adjustment he walked, dressed toward the door. "Then let
us get there."
They made their way to the medical lab where the first
of the clones was already standing aided by the medical
staff in the center of the room. He was staring blankly,
but curiously at the hands that rubbed soft clothes over
his slick body, cleaning him.
Bill nodded in approval as the clone looked exactly as
his own son had in his mid twenties. Old enough to be
used, he rationalized. He ignored the fact that the
brain inside the pretty skull, while capable of being
quite brilliant was now, infantile, completely without
experience or the ability to understand sensation.
And it smelled so good.
As the next clone was being birthed the first was led
tenderly away by smitten doctors who cooed to and petted
the soft-skinned male every step of the way.
Spender didn't get to sneak away to attend his own
clone's birth, but when he was able to make it to the
secret room, the clone was already sitting on its small
bed, blinking incomprehensibly at the two doctors who
were attempting to communicate with the beautiful
creature.
The aliens had insisted that language could be taught in
vitro, but that it would be crude. Spender had yet to
hear one of the clones speak, but this one, upon seeing
him, said, "Thirsty."
Spender beamed and one of the two doctors leapt up to
get the clone a glass of water.
Spender sat beside the trembling clone, noting its
nudity in the chilly room. "Let's get him clothed shall
we?"
The doctors looked disappointed and when the clone
grabbed Spender's hand to place it on his semi-erect
cock, Spender turned an accusing eye toward the two
doctors, who had the grace to flush.
"Nice body," the clone whispered, rubbing Spender's hand
up and down on his own hardening penis. "Pretty."
"Yes, you are very pretty, little clone, but daddy
Spender just wants to be your friend." He grinned into
the wide, innocent eyes, eyes that had never seen
hardship or known loss. He didn't remove his hand but
squeezed the flesh a bit first. "You will be such a good
friend, little Fox."
The clone tilted its head, its eyes searching for
something in Spender's face. When his cock was
completely hard he whispered, "Good boy." Obviously
repeating that which he had heard from the doctors in
the very same circumstances.
Spender could well see the scene. The foolish scientists
playing with the lovely, utterly malleable clone.
Touching his naked flesh, stroking him into erection.
Why else would the clone take Spender's hand to himself
and when he was hard call himself a good boy? He knew
nothing of sex, maybe simply that the hands felt good
there. Certainly he knew nothing of seduction. It was a
miracle that the language stimulation that the aliens
had promised seemed to have worked. But, the clone would
not really understand what he was saying until he
experienced things. Once experienced, like thirst, he
could come up with the necessary word. He could recite,
or so the aliens promised, every word in the English
language, but saying banana and knowing it was a fruit,
and knowing it tasted sweet did not actually inform one
of what sweet was, or what eating felt like.
He was a blank slate with only a rudimentary grasp of
communication skills.
Had he not planned on killing the men, he would be
inclined to do so now. This was not a sex object like
its brothers, it was for his sweet assassin, his lure to
bring Krycek to him.
He smiled into the moss green eyes. "Good boy," he
whispered, agreeing, and smiled.
The clone mimicked him, its full lips sliding into a
smile, awkward, but lovely. It blinked its eyes slowly
and when the doctor who had been sitting to his right
handed him a glass of water he smiled at him, too.
The three men watched as most of the water went down the
clone's chest and they chuckled as he looked confused by
the cold sensation on his belly. He looked content with
the water though, swallowing reflexively.
"Good." He frowned then. "Bad?" He shook his head.
"Good."
"Yes, good," Spender choked out. "Water is good."
The clone took another sip this time ignoring the cold
water that trailed down his chest. Spender noted that
the two doctors were fairly drooling to lap up the
trails of water. The clone saw nothing wrong, felt none
of the tension, simply drank and tried to mimic
Spender's motions. Spender couldn't help but chuckle.
It was perfect. Fox Mulder, only so innocent his little
assassin would have to feel some protectiveness. Oh yes
indeed. Alex would come. And stay, do anything, endure
anything to save this sweet innocent from harm.
He had only to lure him away. And he already knew how to
do that... and make sure that Murdoch got the real Mulder
as a treat.
It was a perfect plan really.
One that even Bill Mulder would approve of.
"Eye," the clone said suddenly, pointing to Spender's
left eye.
"Yes, Fox, this is an eye," he agreed. The two doctors
were flushing now and clearing their throats. It made
Spender wonder just what else the clone would point to
next. The two men had been quite busy with the clone he
could tell.
"Mouth... kiss with," the clone said proudly, touching
Spender's tight lips. He tilted his head and touched his
own lips. "Soft," he proclaimed. He touched Spender's
again, "Hard."
Spender just had to chuckle again. There was something
to be said for the power of innocence. It made him, just
for the briefest moments of course, want to be the first
one to show this clone what real pain and fear were. It
would be so interesting really. It would have no way of
coping with such things, it trusted him implicitly
simply because it knew nothing else. Betrayal, pain and
fear were just words to it... to him.
So too were words like sodomy and fellatio. He began to
get hard then, staring into those lovely eyes. He traced
a finger over the pretty, distracting mole, wondering
what the clone would think if he suddenly pushed
its... his head into his lap.
"Face," the clone supplied helpfully as Spender
continued to stroke his cheek.
"Face," Spender agreed in a choked voice.
Salmon Falls, CA
Scully was standing beside her mother, speaking quietly
and getting food together for the rest of the group and
the Gunmen were playing a game of poker with Antonio
when he came. He spared them no glance and went straight
to the tent in which both Alex and Fox still slept.
The other wolf, the one who had sat quietly for hours
beside the tent rose to meet Garren and a small smile of
welcome graced Garren's face before he unzipped the flap
to the tent.
"They're sleeping, Garren."
Garren turned to the sound of Skinner's voice and he
glared at him. "I can smell that, ascendant. I do only
check to see that he is well."
The older wolf cleared his throat loudly and Garren
turned to look at him with a raised brow, before he
nodded. "I am sure you are doing a fine job, Akyel. But,
forgive me, I need to check for myself." So saying he
pulled the flap of the tent back and leaned his head and
shoulders in, frowning as his head brushed against the
top. He hated confined quarters.
The sight of his mate sleeping peacefully calmed him. He
smiled a bit at the sight. The little cat was curled up
next to Fox and his mouth was pursed in a little, pink
pout, his finely made brows drawn slightly together.
"Even in sleep he is contrary," Garren chuckled quietly,
his body reacting to the scent of his mate. The prince
was sound asleep beside Alex, smelling lovely and... like
blood. There were bandages on the lovely, smooth chest
and the smell of pain as well as lust inside the nylon
confines of the tent. He frowned then and retreated from
the tent. He turned on Skinner. "Can you not keep your
Fox from harm, ascendant?" He shook his head. "He is
too valuable. You shouldn't let him come to harm."
Skinner glowered. "You need to tell that to your master!
He is the one intent on hurting him."
Garren frowned, his eyes narrowed, the ice blue barely
visible between dark lashes. But, he remained silent.
"Do you need to show respect for the Garren, human,"
Akyel warned in a voice that was descending into a growl
as he stood.
Skinner looked at the older wolf, unafraid. "You have no
part in this."
Garren held his hand up to Akyel. "Leave it."
Akyel immediately returned to his former, watchful
position at the edge of the tent.
"You and I need to talk, Garren. I have a proposition
for you," Skinner rasped, his eyes burned red and Garren
nodded.
"We do need to talk." He intended on making sure that
Skinner never again took his mate from him. It wasn't
something he would tolerate another time. But he was
intrigued by the big ascendant's scent. It was angry and
fearful at the same time. The fear was not due to his
presence or that of Akyel, but something else. Perhaps
fear for the little fox.
"Good. Walk with me," Skinner commanded and Akyel
narrowed his eyes at the tone, but said nothing.
Garren raised one tawny brow but followed Skinner to the
edge of the camp and beyond, to the scattered trees and
brush.
Antonio watched the two disappear into the night and he
wondered what would be the outcome. Would they emerge as
allies or would they be enemies? Either way he would
stand by Skinner. For though they did not agree on how
to treat humans, changed or no, for the most part they
were in accord in their distaste for Murdoch and his
hunters. He wished Dana weren't staring at him for he
might sneak into the tent, in which the two lovely males
slept and taste them.
Skinner would be furious... the wolf would be too, but it
would be worth it. Fox was a pain but he smelled so
divine... and Alex... well Alex just wanted it. He was a
born slut. Before the change he had sold it... maybe not
for money but he had sold it.
But Dana was staring at him. He went to her side and
tried to explain to her what was going on. Of course her
first concern was how this alignment, this giving of
Alex to Garren would affect Fox. He sighed.
Couldn't she see that he seemed to be the only one who
thought Alex and Fox should be separated? Even the damn
wolf wasn't eager to do it. Of course they were so
lovely when they were fucking. He wanted to see Fox fuck
Alex again, like he had the last several times... since
he had returned from his vampire adventure actually.
Fox made Alex scream so wonderfully.
There were benefits to keeping the two together, Antonio
mused as he bent to smell the lovely scent of Dana's
hair.
Perhaps with an alliance, Alex would be easier to
have... without Skinner hovering over him all the time.
Perhaps the wolf could be tempted to lend out the
beauty.
He hid a smile as Byers skirted about him in order to
get a bottle of water from the table behind Antonio.
Byers would be skittish... after what Antonio and he had
done earlier. Poor little, sweet man.
He searched out Skinner with his mind to feel if the man
needed aide. What he felt from Skinner's thoughts made
him look to his feet to consider the possibilities. How
would it go from here on out, now that the decision was
all but made? He would wait for Skinner and Garren to
return, then they would all talk.
Salmon Falls, CA
West of Santa Rosa
Day Nineteen
Hour 1300
o, what are you looking at, Krycek?" Frohike asked as
he approached the younger man. The group had left Fort
Bragg two days previous, not in a convoy of cars, but in
the same helicopter that they had arrived in. The change
had been last minute as everyone but Krycek had
protested the use of cars. Skinner had pulled Krycek
aside and the conference between the two had ended with
Skinner announcing that they would stop for at least one
night before reaching San Francisco. His face had
brooked no disagreement, though no one had understood
why there was a need to stop at all. Antonio had simply
sighed, taken a car to collect the helicopter and
returned with it. They had stopped for the second night
not too long ago.
Penthouse
Day Nineteen
Hour 1530
West of Santa Rosa
Day Nineteen
Hour 1330
Sacramento, CA
Day Nineteen
Hour 1330
West of Santa Rosa
Day Nineteen
Hour 1500
Day Nineteen
Hour 1600
Penthouse
Day Nineteen
Hour 1730
Sacramento, CA
Day Twenty
Hour 0330
West of Santa Rosa
Day Nineteen
Hour 2300
