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Bad Dog

Part I: Tailgate
by Raven


A t first, they all just stared at him, mouths open, eyes big.

Doggett was used to them looking at him, but staring was another matter. Of course, this was the first time, since becoming their lover, that he'd had to admit to such sheer stupidity and recklessness.

Looking at the shocked faces of Skinner, Mulder and Krycek though, John Doggett suddenly realized that his after work bitch session had just turned into a confession. He'd just wanted to vent, to blow off steam, and these men weren't just his lovers, they were his friends. And so he'd told them about getting pissed at Reyes and blowing her off when she wanted to go with him to check out a case. Doggett had complained about how he'd been so annoyed, he'd left his cell phone in the office, heading out without it, only to end up stuck with a malfunctioning car miles from anywhere. If he hadn't started hitch-hiking, he'd have been in those hills yet. And then, to discover that the man he was hitching a ride with was the suspect he'd been planning on interviewing, was just icing on the cake. Doggett had figured it out about the same time the suspect had caught sight of the badge, gun and cuffs, and pulled a knife on him. Fortunately, the criminal wasn't nearly as skilled at fighting as Doggett, though they were both hampered somewhat by the fact that the car was still doing about eighty down some hilly curves. At last, Doggett got a good punch in and the guy went out. Stopping the car, Doggett cuffed and moved the man to the backseat, before driving them both safely down to the local police department.

Of course, only about half of that had made it into Doggett's report. That was fine, since Skinner had retired, Doggett didn't have to worry about separating Skinner his lover from Skinner his boss, so he could fudge reports with the best of them.

It wasn't his actions as an FBI employee that was causing the stunned looks across from him. No, Doggett realized that it was his flagrant disregard for his own personal safety that was earning him the big eyes. As he considered this, he suddenly drew in a shocked breath himself.

"Oh, Christ! I have to take a spankin' now, don't I?"

The three men had been careful to warn Doggett that they had a discipline relationship, had told him that way back when his good friendship had first shown signs of being something stronger and deeper. He hadn't quite understood it, but over time had seen the comfort it seemed to give them, and had accepted it as right for them. Since becoming their lover, Doggett had witnessed more than a couple of punishment sessions, and while he hated seeing or hearing one of them discipline the other, he had offered his silent support, knowing it was important to them. This was the first time he'd ever done something that crossed their boundaries for the acceptable, and Doggett licked his lips as he tried to come to terms with what that might mean.

Alex was instantly in front of him. They were nearly the same height, and it was no trouble for those green eyes to stare straight into his own.

"No." It was spoken with absolute assuredness, and Doggett relaxed, though he was a bit confused. "No, John. You don't have to take anything. It doesn't work like that. Subjecting yourself to punishment isn't some price you have to pay to be involved with us. No, John, it's a freely made choice, each and every time. If I screwed up tomorrow and decided that I didn't want to be accountable to Fox or Walter, they would accept that decision. They'd want to talk about it first, but they would accept that decision, and without judgement. I wouldn't be given the cold shoulder or silent treatment, wouldn't be made to feel guilty until I changed my mind back."

Walter and Fox were looking at Alex with quiet pride, but Alex was still looking intently into Doggett's face.

"It's my choice to be punished. Granted, there are times when I'm over Walter's knee and I've been there for a while, or when I hear Fox pulling the brush out of the drawer that make me wish the whole subject would just go away. But that's just my ass talking."

Alex grinned slightly, and now he did spare a glance for his lovers, before turning serious again.

"My heart knows better. I need it. I need the immediate consequences, I need the concrete sense of absolution. I need the closure. There's been too much between us in the past. If I do something wrong now, I know it. I can tell them, bring it to them, lay my sin down at their feet. I get busted for it, I'm punished and forgiven, and it's over. Clean slate. Do you know what that means to me? What it does for me?"

There was a trace of wonder in Alex's voice, and his eyes lost focus briefly, before he brought himself back.

"We all get something different from it, John. But it's always, always, always a matter of consent, of choice. Free will, John. This is about love, there's no coercion, no force, no ultimatums here. So, while we reserve the right to yell at you for being incredibly foolish," another grin, the one that was amusement wrapped in love and topped with a dare, "you do not, nor will you ever *have* to take a spanking, or any punishment at all. You got that?"

"Yeah. I got it. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Alex smiled at him warmly, before reaching out to take the kiss being offered.

Skinner and Mulder were beside him now, and he offered them each a kiss, too. When it had been taken, Doggett cleared his throat slightly, looking down at the floor.

"Okay. You can yell now. I was an idiot, I got it coming."

"Yes. You do." Skinner was giving him his best A.D. glare, and Doggett winced. They proceeded to scold him, but it wasn't as bad as he'd expected. No worse than he'd yelled at lovers in the past, and he'd never even considered a discipline relationship. It was just a standard "I love you, don't you dare get killed" speech, and then Mulder had gone to the kitchen with Alex to finish dinner and Skinner went to do a load of laundry. Doggett headed upstairs to shower and change, still covered in mud from the hillside trek earlier. It was in the shower that he first began to reconsider his place in their relationship.

Oh, he loved them, loved all three of them, fucked up as that was. And they loved him, Doggett didn't doubt it for a moment. And he knew that what Alex had told him was true, he'd never be punished unless he chose to be. The only thing that bothered him was that they'd assumed he didn't want to be. At first, he'd thought that assumption was correct. Doggett was relieved beyond all reasoning to know he wasn't going to have to drop his pants and go over somebody's knee, at his age.

But now, thinking about the scenes he'd witnessed, Doggett had to admit that he wasn't so sure. After all, much as he might dread the idea of the actual spanking itself, some of what Alex had said sounded pretty good. He was an action guy, a concrete kind of person. The idea that he could do something about his frustration and guilt at his own behavior, appealed to John. As did the fact that he'd know it was really over, and wouldn't have to keep going over it in his head.

It was hard for Doggett to deal with failure, always had been, and this was no exception. He was ashamed of his behavior earlier, he'd been scared to death when that guy had pulled a knife on him. There had been more than a few minutes on that wild car ride down, that Doggett had thought he'd never see his lovers again. The pain from that had sliced deeply into him, especially since he knew it would be his own damn fault for going off half-cocked and hot headed.

Maybe if he was hot-assed as well, he could find some balance. Sighing, Doggett slipped into some clean jeans and a tee shirt, and headed downstairs, mind tossing the pros and cons around like a juggler.

###

Dinner was a pleasant affair, it always was, and if Doggett was quiet, the others put it down to him being tired, or to the stress of the day. He always got quiet when he was stressed out, they knew this, and so they just found moments to smile or wink at him, to touch his hand or shoulder as they passed into the kitchen.

After they'd eaten, Skinner and Doggett cleaned up, and soon the four of them were in the den, ready for the game. It turned out to be pretty boring, with one side taking a decisive lead well before the second quarter. Doggett had had plenty of time to think, and now, knowing the game was a lost cause, didn't have to wait any longer to share those thoughts.

"Do you mind if we turn off the game? I got something to tell you guys." They obliged, all three men instantly looking his way with such concern that he had to grin. "Relax, it's nothin' bad. I just need to know whose lap I'm supposed to go over. After all, I figure my first spanking from a lover's gotta have some kind of prestige to it."

"You don't have to do this, John." Walter's brown eyes were utterly sincere, and Doggett smiled at him.

"I know, Walter. Alex made it real clear. This isn't something I'm expected to do. But, well, I was thinking, and it's something I want to do. Not just to fit in with the rest of you guys or out of a sense of fair play. It's not that." He sighed, letting his eyes drift to the darkened television screen. "What Alex said, about it being solid, something real, that has appeal for me. When I was married, if something like this happened, I heard about it for days. Now, I know you guys wouldn't do that, you said your piece earlier, it's over. But inside me, it's not over yet. I'm still hearing it, from myself, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. I've seen each of you take a lickin', you're all three different before, during and after. But one thing's the same. You let it go after. It's over, really over, and that shows. I don't know if it'll work that way for me, but I'd like to find out. So, are my reasons good enough?"

Mulder nodded, knowing this question was addressed to him mostly, but Alex and Walter had agreed, too.

"Okay, so back to my original question. Whose lap do I go over?"

"Whose lap would you be the most comfortable with?" Mulder asked it quietly, and wasn't surprised when Doggett's eyes immediately moved to Skinner.

"I'm sorry, Walt, but you got this..."

"Air of authority." They said it together, the four of them, and the shared laugh let everyone relax.

"You can take the boy out of the Marines..." Walter let it trail off, but he knew that his command presence had been a direct result of his brief time in the military, mostly from observing other men in battle situations, and being damn grateful when he found a lead he could follow.

"Is that okay with you? I'll take it from any of you guys. Nobody else in the fuckin' world, but any of you three."

"It's fine, John. I won't enjoy it, but I don't have a problem with it, either. Anything we should know? Anything that pushes an emotional button?"

Doggett had expected this question. He noticed that no matter how much Mulder fucked up, no one ever yelled at him, Alex never got whipped even if it meant punishing him worse with something else, and Walter couldn't be put in the corner.

"No switches. Beat the hell out of me with anything else, but no switches."

"Fair enough. Anything else?"

"Nope, that's it." Doggett felt his palms beginning to sweat, even as his stomach achieved a nice coating of ice. Skinner moved to the large stool he routinely used when he was spanking one of his lovers, and with a look of resigned regret, held out a hand.

"Come here, John."

Doggett swallowed hard, but moved to Skinner's side. With a mental whimper, he eased down his pants and briefs, before letting himself be put into position over Skinner's lap. He was blushing violently, but he couldn't say he was scared, just dreading what was going to happen next.

"John, you know what you did, we talked earlier. It was pretty bad, but this is your first, and that makes things different. Thirty, that's all this time. I may be going easy on the numbers, but I won't cheat the blows, understood?"

"Yeah. It's fair."

"Okay. Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." Doggett took a deep breath, steeling himself. When the first hard smack landed, the breath left in a hurry. "Shit! Jesus, that was your hand?" It was said with such incredulity that neither Mulder nor Alex could keep from chuckling. Even Walter felt his mouth twitch. He made no comment, only repeated the blow on the other side.

Prepared for it now, Doggett took it quietly, and the rest of the spanking passed with only quiet grunts and muttered curses. When Walter landed the last one, Doggett slumped, releasing the tension he'd been hanging onto to get through it quietly.

"Learned your lesson?" Walter asked it firmly, and without thinking, Doggett answered.

"Yes, sir."

"Then we're done." Walter eased the clothing back into place, drawing a wince as the bright red backside was covered. The large palm rubbed his back for a moment, before Doggett was helped to his feet.

Standing up, Doggett found himself enveloped in a hug, and he clung to Walter's solid body without shame.

"You okay?" It was a soft rumble in his ear, and he nodded.

"I'm fine. A little better, even. Yeah, better." Doggett eased back, looking up into Walter's worried face. It was true, he felt what he'd hoped, a profound sense of relief and release. "I'm good, Walt, it was the right choice. It's good."

A kiss, and he turned to Mulder and Alex each waiting for their own turn at reassurance. He held out his arms, and they stepped into the embrace, holding him between them.

"Gentlemen, I owe you an apology."

"What for?"

"I figured that getting paddled or whipped hurt, but I didn't really think just a plain old spankin' could be that bad. I figured, you know, you were milking it, just a little."

"And now?" Mulder didn't take any offense, in his case it was a reasonable thought. Alex was only amused by the statement, but he waited to hear what Doggett thought now.

"Now I know I was wrong. I mean, it's not like breaking a bone or nothin', but that fuckin' hurts!" Doggett put his hands back, rubbing carefully at his still throbbing flesh.

"Yeah, it does. Fortunately, it doesn't hurt for long. You'll be fine in an hour."

"Yeah?" Doggett looked clearly skeptical at this pronouncement, but he was willing to take Alex's word for it.

"Yeah. And in the meantime, you get to cuddle." Mulder grinned, knowing Doggett was a secret cuddler, loved nothing more than to snuggle.

"That works, I guess." The wry grin was firmly in place, and as he felt Walter's hands come around him, placing him in the midst of a three way hug, Doggett knew that once again, making the odd choice had been the right thing to do.

###

Part II: Ante Up

"You look like shit." Doggett's gentle tone belied the unflattering words, and Mulder managed a weak grin.

"Thanks, Big Dog. That's just what I wanted to hear when I'm already sick as a..." He trailed off, looked vaguely confused for about ten seconds, then sneezed violently into a tissue.

"Bless you."

"Thank you."

Mulder sniffled, and lay back with a sigh that had more to do with illness than the boredom that was also plaguing him. He also forgot to finish the sentence, which told Doggett how sick Mulder really was. His lover never missed a chance to tease Doggett about his last name. Doggett didn't mind, it was nothing he hadn't heard before, and he knew Mulder always did it out of love.

"Did Walter and Alex call yet?" Mulder asked it with a hint of need in his raspy voice, and Doggett sat down on the bed beside him, taking one slightly feverish hand in his own.

"No, not yet. It's still early, Fox, they said it could take hours just to get there in this weather."

"I know. I just...miss them. Not that you aren't enough for me." Mulder looked up, eyes conveying to Doggett that this was the truth.

"It's okay, Fox. I miss 'em, too, and you're more than enough for any man." Doggett brushed a limp strand of hair from Mulder's sweat dampened face. "I know what you mean." Besides, Doggett knew that, much as Mulder loved all three of them equally, he just plain needed Skinner more. The older man was a combination father figure, role model, mentor, big brother and lover, all in one. Skinner was Mulder's security blanket, plain and simple. When Mulder was feeling vulnerable, or was upset, Skinner was the one he reached for.

Again, the knowledge didn't bother Doggett in the least. He understood, the same way he himself turned to Krycek for comfort. Skinner was too much like Doggett to be able to help him see through things, and Mulder was too sensitive, in some ways. With Krycek, Doggett could let it all out, and know that whatever it was, the other man was strong enough and tough enough to take it. They all had their needs, and while petty jealousies occasionally arose, for the most part, the four men had a handle on it, and were fine, in any combination or permutation.

Wiping Mulder's face with a clean damp cloth, Doggett wished the bigger man was there for him.

Skinner and Krycek had gone out of town, but a three day conference had turned into an extended stay, thanks to an transportation strike and a bout of winter weather that would have made travel impossible, even without the strike. Today, they'd called to say that they were going to attempt the drive back in a rental, now that the agencies were open again, but that it could be literally days before they made it home, due to the roads. They were going to call when they stopped for the night. They'd been gone for a total of five days now, and Mulder had gotten sick the day they left. It hadn't been bad the first couple of days, just annoying symptoms and some fatigue. The third day, Mulder had been feeling bad enough to be visibly ill. Late yesterday, when he'd been sick enough to turn down sex, Doggett had gotten worried. Over Mulder's objections, Doggett had called in the heavy artillery.

Scully had confirmed it was the same stuff everyone was getting, and that the only thing to be done was to wait it out and take some medicine. She recommended over the counter medicines for symptom control, and prescribed an antibiotic for the virus, though it had been too late to get it filled at their usual pharmacy. Scully assured Doggett that one more night wouldn't do Mulder harm; it was bad, but not a serious illness. He'd be uncomfortable, but not in any danger.

Doggett had just gotten back from getting it filled. He'd read the directions carefully, surprised that it was only available as a liquid, and not in pill form. Shrugging, he dutifully refrigerated it, made Mulder some light breakfast, and had come back upstairs with the bottle and dosing cup.

Now, Mulder noticed it on the bedside table, where Doggett had placed it while picking up the breakfast tray.

"Is that my medicine?"

"Yup. First prescription filled of the day."

"It's a liquid."

"Alex always said you were smart." The comment took a second to penetrate Mulder's fog of illness, but then the man glared at Doggett's grin.

"Funny. I mean, why is it a liquid? Why not a pill?"

"They only make it in liquid." Doggett was shaking the bottle, and when Mulder failed to make a lewd comment about the rapid back and forth motion of his hand, got a bit more concerned. He'd never seen Mulder sick before, not a normal, non-alien induced illness anyway, and it unsettled him.

"I hate liquids. I bet it tastes god-awful." There was more than a hint of pout in the tone, and Doggett eyed Mulder's bottom lip out of the corner of his eye, all while measuring. A quarter pout. Sighing mentally and wishing that Skinner were there, Doggett made his voice as calm and reassuring as possible.

"The pharmacist said it was cherry-flavored. You like cherry."

"I like cherry in pies. In ice cream. In former assistant directors. Not in medicine." The lip was out to half-pout now, and the arms were crossed loosely over the chest.

Fuck. Doggett changed tactics slightly. "Ah, c'mon, Fox. It won't be that bad. Knock it back like a shot of Alex's vodka."

"No. Alex's vodka is always icy cold and thin. That stuff looks like a pink melted milk shake, and I think I see lumps."

Doggett, reminding himself that Mulder was always a bit juvenile when he was feeling vulnerable, took a patient breath and tried cajoling. "There are no lumps, Fox, I promise. Tell ya what, you take your meds here, and then I'll read to you. How's that?"

"Can't you make Scully give me something else?" There was a definite whine to the voice, and Doggett noticed that Mulder had scooted down in the bed. Entrenching, his military mind warned, but Doggett shushed it.

"Fox, Scully is on a plane on her way to visit an old friend from college. If I knew where in Texas she was going, she still wouldn't be able to write you another prescription. You know as well as I do that antibiotics are virus specific. This is what you need, Fox." Doggett held the cup out, beginning to be concerned at how long it had been since he'd shaken it.

"No. I'm not taking that crap. I'll get better without it." There was a definite digging in of feet in the tone and stance, and Doggett felt his patience wearing thin.

"No, you won't, and yes, you are. Fox, I understand you're sick and you don't feel good. But enough's enough. Now come on, sit up, be a big boy and take your medicine."

"No."

"Yes. Dammit, Fox, take your medicine and take it now." There was an edge of frustration in Doggett's voice, and he was gratified to see Mulder take the outstretched cup.

When Mulder then calmly threw it across the room, Doggett was momentarily stunned. He was almost ready to storm out, leave Mulder to take his medicine or not, when he caught the merest flicker of fear in his lover's eyes. It shocked him more than the thrown cup. Doggett knew that Mulder wasn't afraid of him. So what was he afraid of?

Instantly, Doggett heard Krycek's voice in his head.

Of being left alone. Of not having a shoulder to lean on, a rock to stand on, a shore to swim to when he was drowning. Mulder was sick and scared and his emotional pacifier was thousands of miles away. The little boy in Mulder needed to know that, despite Skinner's absence, he was still going to be taken care of. So he was pushing, and the fear in his eyes had been the fear that Doggett wouldn't push back.

For just a millisecond, Doggett hesitated. He knew what he should do, the only question was whether or not he could bring himself to do it. In all the time they'd been together, Doggett had only ever been on the receiving end, and that, only once. Still, looking at Mulder's face, watching the wary hope begin to fade, leaving only guilt, Doggett knew he had no choice. Not if he loved Mulder, and damn those pretty eyes, he did. It was time to ante up, to prove his love wasn't just for show or sex.

Without another thought, Doggett took Mulder by one arm and rolled him face down onto the bed. Hooking an arm around the slender waist, Doggett ignored the startled protests from Mulder, and instead yanked the man's boxers down to his knees. By sheer force of habit, Doggett's hand then returned to the luscious backside, giving it a loving caress, before the brain reminded it sternly that it had a job to do. Thus prompted, the hand drew back and applied itself rapidly to the target of its affections, drawing yelps and whimpers.

It wasn't a very hard spanking, or a very long one, Mulder was sick and just needing reassurance, after all. But it was extremely brisk, a fast, steady series of sharp slaps that spoke of not taking any more nonsense, and spoke it quite clearly.

When Mulder's bottom was evenly heated, Doggett stopped, drawing the boxers up and rolling him back over. Ignoring the wince, Doggett continued to say nothing, merely stared firmly but with all his love into those huge, imploring eyes of Mulder's, and watched as they filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, John." Mulder's lip trembled violently, and he sniffled as he said it, but Doggett knew Mulder meant it.

Lying down beside him, Doggett took a penitent Mulder into his arms, cuddling him close until the long form stopped clutching him desperately.

"You spanked me when I was sick. Even Walter never spanked me when I was sick." There was a hint of hurt there, and Doggett stroked the back of Mulder's head, before tilting it back and looking at Mulder levelly. He kept his voice soft, calm and reassuring, if firm.

"Walter doesn't have to, baby, you already know that he will." There was a long moment, while Mulder absorbed and processed this, before nodding his head at the truth. "And now, you know I will." Another nod, accompanied by a hard swallow, but there was a measure of peace in the wide eyes, too.

Doggett reached down, uncaring if he caught this bug or not. He placed a very light but very sweet kiss on Mulder's mouth, simply reassuring Mulder that he wasn't in the least angry, but only serious.

He then sat up, careful to lie Mulder back down on his side gently, and retrieved the medicine cup.

"If you weren't sick, you'd be doing this part, you got that, right?"

Mulder nodded solemnly, watching as Doggett cleaned the medicine off the floor and wall. Doggett then washed the cup, re-shook the medicine, and then re-filled the cup. When he held it out this time, Mulder took it without a word and threw it back, making sure to take every drop. He accepted the glass of water that came with it, draining it silently.

Doggett, figuring he was already exposed, reached out, kissing Mulder on the mouth again.

"It's okay, Fox. You just lie back and let me take care of you, okay?"

"Okay." There was a plethora of emotions in the single word, and Mulder was smiling up at him somewhat shyly. Doggett tucked Mulder in, got him settled, and then reached for a well worn book from Mulder's shelf above their bed.

"The usual chapter?"

"You don't have to, John. I was bad, I know it."

"Yeah, and you took your medicine well, twice. Now hush, will ya? I like this chapter, too."

Grinning gratefully, Mulder subsided, and Doggett turned in Beauty's Punishment to the chapter, "In the Master's Chamber". It was Mulder's favorite, with Tristan trying to put into words how he can be so afraid and yet, need the very things that frighten him so, because on the other side of that fear, lies the truth.

Doggett read four pages before the deep, even breathing told him Mulder was asleep. That the breathing was also loud due to congestion, was just kinda cute, since Mulder never snored.

###

Hours later, when Mulder was awake and had both eaten lunch and taken his second dose of antibiotic, Skinner and Krycek called. Doggett put it on the speaker phone, sitting up on the bed beside Mulder. They'd been playing checkers, Mulder not being up for chess.

"So, how's the sickie?" Krycek asked it in his best Peter Falk, quoting from "The Princess Bride", a favorite movie of all the men.

"Still sick, but a little better. Well, except for my backside."

"What happened?"

"Let's just say I was less than enthusiastic about taking my antibiotic, and John was more than enthusiastic in showing me just how wrong that was." Mulder said it with good-natured humor, and Doggett grinned at him, winking to show that it was all good between them.

"Are you guys okay?" Skinner's voice sounded concerned, and Doggett reassured him.

"We're fine, Walt. It wasn't that much of a spankin'."

"It was enough for me." Mulder groused it, but everyone could tell he wasn't serious. "But John's right. We're fine, honest."

"Okay, so spill. What was it like?" Krycek, figuring he was the next most likely candidate to fall under the jurisdiction of Doggett's palm, also figured he had nothing to lose by asking.

"Like we expected, hard and fast."

"You guys talked about how I'd spank?" Doggett was frankly bewildered.

"Of course. If you can take, you can give. Besides, you love us too much to see a need and not try to fill it." Krycek's voice was a soft rumble, and Mulder gave a small shiver of appreciation.

"Hey, progress, guys, Fox just did his Alex-shudder. That's the first sign of life in two days."

"It's the antibiotic kicking in," Skinner commented, glad to know that Mulder was, indeed, improving.

Mulder looked at Doggett and grinned. "Why didn't you just tell me it would get my sex drive back? I'd have taken the whole bottle without a fuss."

Rolling his eyes, Doggett listened to the chuckles of his lovers, grateful for the fact that they were so in tune with each other, and knew again, that the different choice had been the right one.

###

Part III: Absolut Truth

John smiled as he watched Alex arrive home, the low, sleek sports car slinking up the drive and purring to a stop.

He was always glad to see his lover, but the younger man was especially welcome this afternoon. Fox and Walter had left a couple of days ago on business. John and Alex had missed their lovers, but had been grateful for the chance to really cement their own bonds. They were already in love, already committed to each other; but they lacked the history they each shared with the other two. They alone had come into this relationship as near strangers, they had been the ones to set the pace for the other two, and all four realized how exceptional it was that love had happened for all four of them equally, if differently.

But love had happened, and now as John watched Alex pick up a small disposable cup and raise it to just above his mouth, swallowing greedily at the few drops that fell out, he felt a flare of passion for the man. And gratefulness for his mere presence. Alex had been gone all morning and most of the afternoon to a consultation. After months of being surrounded by three other men, John had found the silence both welcome and difficult. He'd once savored his solitude, now he couldn't go a whole day alone without feeling vaguely out of sorts.

Chuckling at himself, John reached out, holding his arms open for his handsome lover. Alex smiled, moving into the embrace without hesitation. A firm hug, the way both men liked them, and then John kissed him, parting the sinful mouth and exploring with a growing hunger. Alex tasted like stolen youth on a summer afternoon, sweet and hot and slightly forbidden. The illusion was furthered by the faint burn of alcohol...

Breaking off the kiss with a start, John looked intently into the face of his confused and slightly frustrated lover. Alex had been enjoying the impromptu make out session, and his brows drew together as he questioned the interruption.

"John? Why'd you stop? Things were just getting...interesting." Alex reached out, lapping gently at John's jawline.

John shuddered, but didn't let the pleasant sensation distract him. Putting his hands on Alex's shoulders, John asked quietly, and as neutrally as he could, "Alex? You been drinkin', love?"

For a fraction of a second, Alex's green eyes showed unease, but then he only smiled warmly. "I had one shot of vodka, John, nothing to be concerned about. Just a single drink to close the deal, that's all." Moving close again, Alex leaned up, letting his tongue trail lightly over one of those much loved and prominent ears.

John closed his eyes. God, he loved it when Alex fellated his lobes... Sighing, John forced himself to pull back again. "Alex, you were driving." John personally didn't give a damn. He knew that Alex was more than capable of driving with one drink, even two under his belt. But John also knew that there was a firm rule about drinking and driving.

Since John had decided to accept the discipline aspect of their relationship, he'd made it a point to learn the rules, the few the men had for each other. It was partly self preservation; a single trip over Walter's knee had been enough to convince John he didn't want to earn another spanking anytime soon. But more than that, he didn't want to let his lovers down. John knew that being spanked hurt, but he also knew that it filled a need for each of them.

Especially for Fox and Alex.

While he and Walter had not had idyllic childhoods, they had been fairly typical, and that included having a mostly positive relationship with their fathers. Neither Fox nor Alex had been so lucky. What they got from the discipline went far deeper than a sore backside as a memory aid. It went unspoken, but all four men knew that there was a distinctly paternal need fulfilled with every punishment.

That knowledge, of course, did nothing to guarantee that either Fox or Alex would admit to deserving one, or take it without a fuss.

Sure enough, those green eyes rolled dramatically, and Alex's voice took on a slightly pissed off tone. "Oh, come on, John! I had one shot of vodka, you and I both know that's nothing for me. I assure you, I was more than capable of safely operating my vehicle." John didn't miss the somewhat patronizing tone, nor the way Alex was practically smirking. "Walter didn't go away and leave you in charge, you know."

If there was a sure fire clue for John that he shouldn't just let this go, Alex's words were it. Making his own voice calm, John reached out, putting a hand on the side of Alex's face. "No, he didn't. Neither one of us is in charge of the other, we're equals, Alex."

The lashes lowered slightly, and a hint of guilt tinged the husky voice. "I didn't really mean that, not like that, John. I was just teasing."

"I know, Alex. And I happen to agree with you, one shot is not enough to impair you. But that ain't the point, lover." John was keeping his voice soft, but it was determined. He'd learned his lesson with Mulder. He'd save coaxing for when he wanted a foot massage; when it came to discipline, John had figured out to start firm and stay firm.

Alex's tongue just barely came out to moisten his lips, and he gave a tiny sigh before straightening his shoulders again. "It's a mute point, John. Look, I didn't risk myself or anyone else. I didn't take a dangerous chance or not think things through. I'm here, I'm fine, and neither one of us has anything to do for the rest of the afternoon." Turning on the charm, Alex wound his arms around John's neck, his body close enough for John to feel the heat of the sensuous body.

"Alex, I want nothin' more than to spend the rest of the day in bed with you. I want to make love to you for hours, until neither one of us can even breathe. I want you, Alex, you know that. But because I also care about you, I'm not lettin' this go. Whether you made it home okay or not, don't make a damn. You drank and you drove, plain and simple. I'm not going to argue with you, not going to debate whether it was safe or not. There's a rule, you broke it. There's a consequence. None of that's debatable. The only question is whether or not you're gonna take what you got comin'. And what it means if ya aren't." John had been speaking softly, earnestly, letting his love for this complicated man show.

For a long moment, Alex stared at the ground, chewing on his bottom lip and looking like he was going to capitulate. But then he pushed himself away from John, not quite shoving the older man in the process. "Oh, for fuck's sake! That rule's for Mulder, not for me. He can't drink for shit, one shot and he's screwed. I'm Russian, John, my blood alcohol level was higher when I was born. C'mon, give me a break here, will you?"

John said nothing, only shook his head.

Alex exploded. He swore, mostly in what John assumed was Russian, and stormed back out the door. John followed him, not commenting or interfering, but when Alex reached for the door of his car, John put himself between it and Alex.

"No. There's no way in hell I'm letting you drive like this. You're angry and I know you've been drinking, however little. That was your choice. I let you get behind the wheel knowingly, Walt'll take a strap to my ass while Fox holds me down, and I wouldn't blame either of them."

"Jesus, John, don't you think you're blowing this all out of proportion?"

"I'm just doing what I have to, Alex."

"Why? Why do you have to do this? Walter's not home, Fox isn't home, it's just us and you said yourself you thought I was right in my assessment. Why can't you just let it go?"

"Because I love you, Alex. I don't just love you when Walter and Fox are around, I don't just love you because of them. I honestly love you, damn it, and I'm not willing to mess that up just for a little afternoon delight." John sighed, letting some of his own frustration with the situation sound. "Look, the last thing in the world I want to do is fight with you, Alex, and the second to last thing I want to do is hand out a spankin'. But I'll do both if I think it's what you need me to do, and I do, Alex. Now, I'm going back inside. I'll be in the den when you figure out what you're going to do."

John waited only a second before adding, "If you decide you do deserve to be punished, it doesn't have to come from me, you know. It'll wait for Walter or Fox. I'll understand, Alex, if that's not something you can take from me, if you don't, you know, trust me that way yet." This was spoken lightly and quickly, and John caught a flash of pain in Alex's eyes, before he fled to the house.

Inside, John gave a deep sigh, pouring himself a glass of tea and taking it into the den. Christ, he wished he had more experience with this kind of thing. In a way, Fox had been easier. John had experience as father, and Fox was often patently childlike in his acting out. Alex was a whole different ball game.

Taking a long sip, John let his brain tick off the differences between this situation and the time he'd spanked Fox.

In principle, Alex was right. John had seen the man down six shots in an evening and not be visibly affected in any way. Legally, he wasn't even near the limit. Fox had been refusing his medicine, for cryin' out loud.

In every way, Alex was a rational adult and easily his equal, while Fox, at the time, had been a needy child, seeking limits.

Fox had been acting out of fear and uncertainty. Alex had gotten angry out of frustration with the situation.

It was nearly enough to make John find the man and tell him to forget the whole thing. And he would, except for one thing. Alex had said that Walter and Fox weren't there, implying that the arrangement was something he went along with just for the two of them, that it had no real place in Alex's life independent of them.

That was a lie, plain and simple. Alex himself had told John how much he needed the discipline, and not just in general terms. Alex had specifically mentioned to John needing to be spanked. That Alex might wish it otherwise, but the truth was that he wanted and needed it. It was part of the whole process of loving Alex.

Despite all the very real differences, both men had one very important thing in common; they needed to know if John loved them enough to really be there for them, no matter how painful his presence for both of them might be.

And John did love Alex enough. Sighing, realizing he was back to where he started, John also suddenly realized that Alex was standing in the doorway, watching him from beneath nearly closed lids. Once he was spotted, Alex ducked his head even lower, and moved to stand in front of John.

The older man was just about to ask Alex if he'd made a decision, when Alex drew his hand from behind his back and held it out to John, offering him the hairbrush apologetically.

"Look at me, Alex, please."

The near whisper was obeyed, and John saw everything he needed to see in the flash of troubled green eyes. Nodding, John took the brush and began drawing down Alex's black dress slacks, and then the black bikini briefs under them.

When the clothing was pooled around Alex's knees, John helped him to stretch across, the rounded bottom lying quietly over his lap. Alex didn't tense, he knew better, and he didn't struggle in the least as John positioned him just so and then asked softly, "Ready?"

Alex didn't say anything, but made eye contact over his shoulder as he nodded.

Without another pause, John brought the back of the brush down sharply on one pretty cheek. Alex's jaw muscle twitched but nothing else moved, typical for Alex when he was being spanked for something serious. He'd yell his head off during play spankings, and fight like a tiger, giggling the entire time. Tan his ass for real, and the man simply lay there and took it.

John landed the brush again quickly, keeping the strength of the blow the same. It didn't take him long to paddle Alex's entire rear twice around, and when he had, John put down the brush. The muscles were a dark rose, and John knew Alex was hurting, despite having only a slight shift in breathing to prove it.

"You lied to me, too, Alex." John didn't make it an accusation, just a quietly spoken statement of fact, accompanied by a hand soothing over the muscles of Alex's back. They tensed for just a moment, then relaxed again, and the dark head raised, revealing eyes that were no longer troubled, but genuinely penitent. Another single nod, and Alex resumed his careful position.

John wanted nothing more than to simply land a single swat and be done with it, but he knew that would hurt his lover far more than the next few blows would. Still, he could safely use just his hand under the guise of making the punishment more personal, and he did so, peppering a fast dozen spanks to the well heated skin.

When he'd finished, John's hand resumed its stroking of Alex's back. "Done, babe." Alex gave a deep shuddering sigh and rolled to his side, letting his hip rest on the couch so that he could lean against John's chest.

With a choked sound that might have been a sob, Alex clung to John, whispering against his throat, "I'm sorry, John. I never meant to lie to you, it just happened. And I wasn't fighting it because I thought I was right. I was wrong, I know I was. And... and I never meant for you to think I was fighting it because I didn't trust you enough. I was just fighting it because... because I thought I could." The last was a shame faced whisper, and the pure truth. Alex always confessed fully after being spanked, as though given permission to be honest by the blows.

John cuddled him close, noticing that now Alex was beginning to tremble, and realizing one more very important thing. "You're forgiven, Alex. Over and done."

Another deep, deep sigh, this one accompanied by a faint nod. "Thank you, John."

"You're welcome, Alex."

They simply held for a long time, until Alex began to feel silly sitting on the couch half dressed. He stood, putting back a hand and rubbing his aching rear experimentally, before pulling up his clothing.

"Well? I know I'm no Walter, but how'd I do?" John made it a very lightly asked tease, unsure if Alex was really ready to be teased or not yet.

He was reassured when Alex managed a sincere full grin, despite the hot blush that suddenly and attractively stole up his face. Putting his hands back and wincing honestly, Alex's voice was nonetheless teasing in return. "You'll more than do. You actually paddle harder than Walter, but do me a favor?"

"If I can, sure. What?"

"Don't tell him I said so? He'll try to improve, and he'll use my ass for practice."

John chuckled, knowing better, and moved over to Alex, again taking the man into his arms.

"I love you, John." The words were clearly spoken, right next to his ear, both men close enough in height to rest a head on the other's shoulder.

"I love you, too, Alex."

"John?" "Yeah, babe?"

"Now can we go to bed and make love for hours?"

"Love nothin' better."

Easing back, John kissed Alex deeply, this time enjoying the taste of his lover without reservation.

Taking Alex's hand, John began leading him up the stairs.

"John?" Alex paused them, and when John looked at him, bit at his lip.

"I know. It's okay." John whispered the words, and Alex's eyes grew wide.

"You know what?"

"I know that you didn't really have a shot. I know that you only took those couple of drops, and only after you were parked. That cup you had in the car? It was from yesterday, when we were installing the new speakers. There was nothing in it but drops, and that's all you had when you pulled up."

Alex could do nothing but stare in shock at his lover, who calmly waited, not smirking, but only rubbing his thumb over the back of Alex's hand. Finally, after what seemed like several long moments, Alex's face softened, and he spoke flatly. "You really do get it, don't you?"

John nodded, raising Alex's hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. "I'm trying."

"I really need you to make love to me." Alex said it with a faint hint of desperation in his voice, and John only reached out, cupping his face.

"Whatever you need, babe, anything, it's yours." Another kiss, and John led them on up the stairs.

Yeah, it was hard sometimes, loving men as complex and complicated as Alex and Fox and Walter.

But it was damn well worth it.

###

Part IV: Cherry Red

"I am so fucked." John Doggett said it out loud, despite the fact that he was alone in the small cavern. For that matter, he was apparently alone in the whole damn section of the woods. And considering that the woods were in an isolated section of the mountains, he was probably even more alone than that.

Add to the isolation of his setting the fact that his cell phone was dead, that he'd left no word as to his destination, that his rental car was conveniently parked on a nearly hidden logging trail, and that he'd lied to Alex about his plans, and John Doggett was more alone than he'd been in quite a while.

And bitterly aware of it.

Sitting down, slumping against the wall with yet another sigh, John's mind cruelly insisted on reviewing exactly how he'd come to his current position, lost, alone, and with no hope of rescue.

It had started simply enough. John had been working on a case, when he'd gotten word of a series of mysterious markings, coinciding with a spate of disappearances in the area. Deciding that it was worth checking into, John had assembled the paperwork and approached Skinner.

It was a point of pride for both men that they maintained a professional relationship at work. Aside from the occasional smirk on remembering certain sexual details at inappropriate moments, neither man betrayed the fact that they were in a relationship with each other. Well, each other and two other men.

Skinner had taken his papers, reviewed them as per regulations, asked the usual questions, and then had surprised John by denying his request.

"Sir? I don't understand." John had looked at Skinner with confusion.

"Your request is denied, Agent. After reviewing the material and looking over the preliminary findings, I don't feel a personal visit is warranted. You should definitely continue to explore this avenue, and I would contact the West Virginia State Trooper that found the markings, but I feel a visit is currently unsubstantiated by the present evidence."

"But, sir..." John paused, not sure how to say that Fox would have been allowed to go without saying it in those words. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Skinner's features hardened a fraction.

"Agent Doggett, I've given you my decision, and based on the current findings, that decision is final. Should additional evidence present itself, I'll be more than happy to reconsider. Until that time, however, you have your answer."

"Yes, sir." Unhappy and not shy about showing it, John picked up his casefile from the corner of Skinner's desk.

"Is there anything else, Agent?"

"No, sir." John left, his quick temper held in check, but just barely. Storming down to the basement, he threw the file onto his desk, and settled into his chair noisily.

Reyes looked at him with a sympathetic grin. "Said no, huh?"

"Insufficient evidence at this time." John just barely kept himself from making the tone mocking.

"I'm sorry, John. I know you'd much rather investigate that type of thing than this one." She tapped their current casefile, a fairly boring and obvious case of a college prank being perceived as Satanic worship. If the Dean's son wasn't involved, it would never have gotten this far without being debunked.

John sighed and reached for the phone, intending to make some calls. He contacted the State trooper, and was disappointed to learn that the man wasn't willing to discuss it in any serious manner, ascribing the markings to an old Native American settlement.

It was only later that John realized that it would almost make more of a connection if the trooper was right. He went back to the photos, but they only showed the markings from a distance and in poor light. He'd requested more, but they'd been equally poor in quality. If he could just see them for himself....

Swearing mentally, he almost didn't notice the memo on his desk. It was from a contact on their current case, confirming their appointment for later that evening. That one had been approved, despite the fact that it had been as equally far as the West Virginia site. In fact, they were both a five hour drive, round trip. Though only one of them was necessary, John grumbled, knowing that Reyes had practically written closed across this one.

As John looked at the appointment, his rejected travel authorization seemed to draw his eyes. And then it hit him.

He could go to West Virginia. The mileage would read the same, the times would match, everything would fit perfectly. The car was already checked out, the mileage had been pre-approved, so he wouldn't have to worry about the receipts tripping him up. He could go and check out the markings for himself and be back with no one the wiser, save himself.

It was wrong. But damn it, he really thought that he might be able to help someone if he went to West Virginia. Biting his lip, ignoring the little voice whispering that maybe he was just bored and looking to pull a fast one in a temper fit over being denied, John began gathering his things.

He was almost ready to leave, when the phone rang.

"Doggett."

"Krycek." His lover's voice was rich and warm, with just a hint of humor.

"Hey. What's up?" They were a bit more relaxed on the phone , though still careful. It was, after all, an office phone and office time.

"I was just wondering if you had a rough idea when you thought you might be home. Mrs. Williams from a couple of doors down invited us to dinner, the four of us. I told her you had to go out of town, but that you might be back in time."

John eyed the West Virginia map. The mountains might add some to his time, and then there was the hike to the site to consider. "I don't think so. I'm not sure how long this'll take. I won't be too late, it's not that far, but I wouldn't count on supper."

"Okay, I'll let her know it'll be just the three of us then. You make sure you eat, though, you hear me? And not fast food, you stop and get a real meal."

The love and nurturing in the words and tone sent a responding flood of warmth through John. Christ, he loved these men!

"I will, babe. I promise to eat at least two vegetables, just for you." He heard Alex's soft chuckle on the other end, and couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you. And be careful, okay? Informant meetings, however typical, can always go bad."

"I'll be careful." John promised it, aware that he'd just lied to Alex, and hating that.

"Okay. See you tonight, John."

"Tonight." John had hung up, hesitated for just a moment, then grabbed his things and left before his conscience could assert itself. Once in the car, John used his cell phone to call his informant, begging off the interview and making arrangements to handle it via email. That done, John headed for the mountains.

XxXxX

He'd been gone about two hours when Reyes took a call. It was the informant, and he was calling to say he'd changed his mind and wanted to do the meet in person after all. Reyes made a quick decision, and asked him to meet with her instead. He agreed, and with a sigh of dread, she headed up to Walter's office.

"Agent Reyes, what can I do for you?"

"Well, sir, there's a slight...situation."

Skinner put down his pen and looked up cautiously. Reyes, feeling like she was telling on her brother to their dad, explained the situation. Walter swore silently, but merely quickly readied a travel packet for her, so that she could make the meet. When she'd gone, Walter poured himself a glass of water and drank it slowly, before putting on his coat and heading outside with his personal cell phone. He dialed without looking, just hitting speed dial and one numeral and noted the flat tone of the two rings, before Fox answered.

"Hello?"

"What the hell is it about that goddamn basement that makes rational, mature, intelligent men turn into over- aged, adolescent rebels without the sense God gave a goose and all the self-control of a rabbit on viagra?"

After a very pregnant pause, Fox spoke quietly, and completely without rancor. "I deserved that. I'll always deserve that. You have my apologies for the past and the bad example I've set for all future basement dwellers."

"Thank you. Apology accepted. Now, put Alex on the extension."

"You're welcome. Hang on."

When Alex was on the other end, Walter updated them.

Alex, having brought his cell phone with him to the extension, had just dialed John's number.

"Guys, his cell phone isn't working. It was fully charged this morning and working fine, I tested it myself. And I'm not getting a message that he's out of range or service, so it's dead." Alex always tested the electronics before any of them went out of town. He just felt better, and they all appreciated the care behind the simple act. If it wasn't working, that wasn't good.

"He left over two hours ago. He could be anywhere between here and there. And we don't know for sure that there's anything wrong. Yeah, the phone's dead, but that could be nothing. Do we act or wait?" Fox, having been on the other end of Walter's search and rescue, knew that nine times out of ten, it wasn't needed. Of course, the tenth time tended to be urgent, severe, life- threatening and requiring the intercession of angels to pull off in time, but Fox liked to play the odds. He was a killer in Vegas.

"With Walter's permission, we'll do both." Alex, always with at least two back up plans, said it with a cool calmness that told both men how worried their lover really was.

"Granted, Alex. What have you got in mind?"

"You phone the authorities in the area he should be at. Then we work backwards through official channels, until we hear something. John hates little side roads, he'll be on main highways as long as he can, the bigger the better. It'll be easy enough to find out if something has happened that way. Unofficially, we call the Gunmen and get them working on his credit cards, see if we can narrow the search field, and get them to check outside the lines."

Alex paused, pinching the bridge of his nose slightly.

"We give him an hour on top of his ETA back home. Then, if we still haven't heard anything, Fox and I will fly up there. You'll need to stay here, Walter, as liaison for the official channels, if we need help."

Fox grinned, unable to help himself. "Walter always told me you were twice the agent I was, Alex. I assumed it was because you were an ass kisser then, but now I know he was right. You're just damn good at this kind of thing."

Alex, on the cordless phone in the den, walked with it into the kitchen, where Fox sat. The green eyes were huge, the mouth slack with surprise, but there was a pleased look to the man, too.

"Walter really said that?" It sounded almost shy, and sure enough, a faint pink tinge was coloring the handsome face.

Fox chuckled, as Walter answered. "I really said that. And I meant it. Fox is incredible with the extreme and the bizarre, for intuition and such, but he can't hold a candle to you when it comes to solid, instinctual investigative work. You really were one of the best agents I ever had, Alex."

The men had come to terms with their past, but they seldom spoke of it, so this was news to Alex. Fox saw the shimmer of tears and held out an arm, the other hand still holding the phone. "Come here, baby."

Alex moved eagerly into the embrace, and felt safe enough from the shelter of it to ask quietly, "If I had been legit, gone straight, would I have...could I have been..."

"Alex, it's my honest and unbiased opinion that, if you had wanted to do so and had pursued it through legitimate channels, you could have eventually been named one of the youngest Assistant Directors ever, on your way to the very top. You were that good, you had that much talent and ability. I'll swear that on whatever you want me to." Walter's voice was very serious, and Alex gave a soft sound of emotion, too complex for pleasure, too simple for pain. "Kiss him for me, Fox, pat his ass until he calms down, and then get busy. I'll get started from here." Walter's voice was gruff, but he was glad that he could finally share this with Alex.

"Will do."

"I love you both."

"We love you, too Walter. And don't worry about John." Fox said it, even as he knew none of them could help it.

"Right. Okay, guys, I'll see you at home as soon as I can. Goodbye."

They chorused it back at him, and hung up.

###

About that same time, John was pulling up at the base of the logging trail. It was only vaguely visible, and if it hadn't been for the trooper's notation that it was immediately after the tree with the orange spray paint in a triangle shape on the trunk, he'd have never found it.

Turning in, he drove as far as he could, before getting out and preparing to walk the rest of the way. After a good half an hour hike, weaving in and out among the trees along something that looked like it was little more than a deer path, John found the ruins. He took some pictures, and was about to hike back down, when he saw that there appeared to be more on the ledge above.

He couldn't be sure from the ground, so he clambered up and began walking the wide lip, careful to stay in the middle of the stone width. He was only about six feet off the ground, it wasn't much of a risk, but John was determined to play it safe. The last thing he needed was to try to explain an injury.

He'd just completed that thought, when what appeared to be a solid ledge with a dead limb and a sprinkling of fall leaves over it, turned out to be a huge hole concealed by the aforementioned dead limb and leaves.

###

John Doggett sank like a rock. He fell straight through and down, landing in a small circular area roughly eight feet in diameter. He landed in a pile of debris and sand, so he wasn't hurt at all beyond a bruise or two. That was the good news. The bad news was that John had been wearing his cell phone clipped to his belt, and the entrance into the hole had not only caused it to shear off, but it had landed on solid rock, and was now in pieces.

The worse news was that the hole, while only about six feet above the ground from outside, was now some fifteen feet above his head.

###

An hour later, John had determined that there was no way he was getting out of that hole without outside assistance. The walls were smooth and very hard, and there was absolutely nothing in the space he could use to climb out with.

Sighing, he'd settled back onto the floor of the cave, and decided that he was fucked.

###

Another hour went by, and John decided that fucked didn't quite cover it. He'd reviewed his chances repeatedly, and while he wasn't the type to give up, things were looking grim. It would be hours before he was missed, and then even longer before they found him.

If they found him.

Sighing, he took stock. Fortunately, he'd been about to take a drink from his bottle of water right before he fell in, and it had landed safely, the plastic bouncing, but not breaking. He had about half a bottle left. There was a breakfast bar in one pocket, a token from Alex, the mother hen, for his trip. Another pocket held some beef jerky, his preferred travel snack. He had a lighter, he tended to keep one on hand for Monica, liking the way he felt when he lit her cigarettes. It was silly and old-fashioned, but it made him feel like a gentleman, to be able to do it for her.

He thought that there was enough of an updraft that he could risk a small fire if he had to, using the dead wood and debris in the cave. Comforted, knowing from his military time that he could actually survive a while with that little, John turned his attention to getting out.

XxXxX

At home, his husbands were deciding that it was time.

"Alright, we know that he's probably at the site where the markings are, it only makes sense to check there first, so after we land, we'll drive straight out, Walter." Alex looked at the map again, even as he picked up his case.

"Did you get the small map I faxed, the one from the trooper?"

"Right here. We're good to go, Walter. We'll call you when we land, it should only take about half an hour to get there."

They were flying out in a private plane. Another thing that they all knew, but none of them mentioned, was that Alex had money. They didn't ask how much or where. None of them really wanted to touch it, they all considered it blood money, but they weren't above using it either. It was a resource, and now Alex had hired the plane and pilot, and as soon as they got to the airport, which Alex could see just ahead as Fox turned onto the road, they'd be ready to leave. A rental car was already standing by for them at the small airport in Fresing, West Virginia. They could only pray that John would be in Fresing, too.

"Be careful, guys. It's bad enough John's MIA, I couldn't handle it if you were, too." Walter's voice held the strain of those forced to remain behind and send loved ones off to do the dirty work.

"We'll be fine, Walter. We'll look after each other."

A final round of farewells, and Fox and Alex were stepping onto the tiny plane and buckling in. They landed a scant 27 minutes later and were on their way to the site before the sun began to set in earnest. That had been the goal, of course, to beat the darkness, but Alex had packed carefully, and his large black bag had everything they'd likely need to handle whatever situation they ran into.

His clothing held a few more items he'd brought along just in case, but Alex kept those carefully hidden from Fox. Now really wasn't the time to explain where he'd gotten the miniature air pump blow gun, or the horse tranquilizer that tipped the two dozen darts. Still, the deceptively tiny pipette gave him some measure of security, especially since Alex was prohibited by law from carrying or using a firearm, one of the terms of his probation. Not that something like probation would keep him from picking up an Uzi if he had to, but Alex really wanted to keep things as legal as he could.

They made the turn for the logging trail, and soon had pulled in behind John's rental. Sighing with relief as they saw it, knowing it was a hopeful sign, they gathered their stuff and exited the vehicle. As they approached the markings, Alex held up a hand, pausing them.

In the silence, a muttered voice echoed, and Fox and Alex grinned as they caught some of the words.

"...gonna kill me for this, and damn if I won't hand 'em the bullets..."

"John?" Fox called, and the voice stopped, then a loud, completely incredulous yell came from the ledge area.

"Fox? Is that you?"

"It's us, John. Now where are you?" Alex had been nearing the markings, and now he cautiously edged up to the first foothold.

"I'm in some kind of cave, there's a big damn hole on the ledge here by the third marking."

"Are you okay?" Having seen it for himself, Alex climbed up and opened his pack, throwing a length of knotted rope to Fox, keeping a long coil for himself.

"I'm fine. Not even bruised, really. Well, not yet anyway." The resignation in his voice told Alex and Fox both that he was fine, even as Alex shone the light down in, spotlighting the man. Fox had tied one end to a sturdy tree, and now he looped a section of slack around his waist, nodding to Alex.

"Okay, John, can you climb up or do you need me to pull you?"

"I can climb," John reassured Alex, who lowered the coil down into the hole. In moments, John was climbing out and sitting on the ledge, looking up at his lovers in disbelief. "You guys are fucking incredible. I been missing what, an hour? How the hell did you find me so fast, or even know to look?"

Alex and Fox shared a grin, coiling the rope and pulling out a bottle of water. Fox handed it to him, saying in a tease, "John, you live with a former spy, a fibbie and a psychic. If we don't know you're missing and where to at least start looking, something's very wrong."

John drank deeply, and both of the other men eyed him critically. "Are you sure you're okay? You didn't get hurt in the fall, nothing like that?" Alex asked it while holding a hand out to the man, helping him to stand up.

Once he was upright, John moved closer, wanting and needing a hug. Alex gave it to him, and Fox joined them, wrapping his arms around John from the back.

"I'm fine, guys, I swear it. I landed in a pile of leaves and shit, I'm not even scratched. My cell phone is toast, but I'm not harmed at all."

"Thank God." Both men said it at the same time, and John flushed, his guilt right at surface level.

They eased apart, and Alex took in the red tinge to the rueful face. "Let's get to the car before it gets any darker."

Nodding, John turned, and soon they had reached both cars. "Keys." Fox held his hand out to John, and John dropped them into Fox's palm without a word.

"You'll ride back with me, John. Fox will drive your car. We're going straight to the Bureau, so you can turn it in and reassure Walter. Then we're going home." Alex had been speaking softly, he never raised his voice when he was scolding, though his words could be hard as steel. The next ones proved that. "You will be punished at work for filing a false travel report and for disobeying Skinner." That was how they separated work and home. Walter was at home, Skinner was the guy at the office. It was just easier to do it that way. John nodded again, and Alex continued. "John Doggett, you lied to me, to Fox and to Walter, either outright or by omission. You risked your life foolishly and needlessly."

To their surprise, John interrupted. "It might not be needlessly. This could have something to do with those missing persons."

Fox shook his head. "I'm afraid not. See, while Skinner was contacting the locals here regarding your possible presence and subsequent disappearance," John winced, knowing Skinner was going to be furious about that part, "it seems that they caught the guy that's been doing the abductions. And yes, they're sure it's him, because he led them to the warehouse where he'd been keeping the people locked up. They're all alive and relatively unharmed, by the way."

"Which you would have known if you'd been where you were supposed to be, when you were supposed to be there. It was foolish, needless, and you have not one valid reason for your actions. It was wrong, John. You were wrong, very wrong, and I have to say that all three of us are pretty disappointed in you. We thought we meant more to you than that."

At this last, John's somewhat bowed head shot up. "You do! This wasn't about you! It had nothin' to do with you!"

"Not even with me?" Fox asked it softly, and John looked at him with a confused frown. "Didn't you do this in part because it's the kind of thing I used to do, and get away with? Weren't you angry that it appeared I got to do it, but you didn't? Wasn't a part of you acting out because you didn't think it was fair, either of me or of Skinner?"

John started to deny it hotly, but then he thought back to the moment in Skinner's office when he'd first been told no. John's initial response had been a silent, but vehement statement that Fox would have been able to do it.

Closing his eyes as he realized the truth, John nodded, defeatedly.

"That hurts me, John. It's not fair to me for you to make those comparisons. It was a different time, a different situation and you have options I never did. To use me as an excuse for your own selfish willfullness is wrong, it shifts the blame for your actions onto me, and that's not where it belongs. I won't allow you to use me and my admittedly reckless past as an excuse to hare off in a temper. Is that clear?"

It was rare that Fox ever scolded them. The man preferred to talk and explain rather than accuse, confront and chastise, but he could do it if needed, and John felt his shame triple at the further realization of just what he'd done.

"It's clear, Fox. And...and I'm damn sorry." He looked up at Fox with sincere regret, and Fox graced him with a gentle smile.

"Forgiven. But I'm going to punish you for it, too."

John had to admit it was fair. He looked to Alex, knowing there was more to come.

"We're all going to punish you, John. Each of us will take a turn punishing you for your actions today, because you made it personal with each of us. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah. It's fair. I know I fucked up royally, I'll take whatever you guys hand out without a fuss."

"Thank you." Both men said it to him at the same time, and John couldn't help but grin.

"So, um, speaking of punishment, what... I mean...are you..." He trailed off, swearing, and Alex, knowing from personal experience that talking about it was almost as bad as taking it, came to his rescue.

"You're going to be punished by each of us, in turn. You get me first, and you're going to get your punishment from me right here and right now. Drop your pants, John, and bend over the hood of the car, please."

John's mouth dropped open, then opened even further as he watched Alex take off his belt: it was wide, smooth leather. It wouldn't cut but it would hurt like a mother.

"Out here? Now, in the dark?" Even as he'd asked it, Fox had taken the battery lantern out of the bag and turned it on, casting a soft flourescent glow a good six feet in all directions. It was more than enough to read by comfortably, much less give a whipping with.

"That's right. I'm going to whip you, John, and then you're going to have something to think about all the way back." Alex said it sternly, and John groaned softly at the thought of riding back for two hours on a strapped bottom. Alex wouldn't do more than leave some light welts, but they would be very uncomfortable, if not serious.

Reaching down, he unfastened his pants, pushed his clothing out of the way, and bent over the hood of the car, hands tightly fisted, jaw clenched as Alex raised the hem of his shirt and the jacket out of the way.

"This is going to be bad, John, I won't pretend otherwise. You're getting thirty, ten for each person you lied to about this. And I won't short them just because you're getting that many. Got it?"

John swallowed hard, hands seeking someplace to grip. He was grateful when Fox moved to the other side, reaching across and holding his hands, letting John cling to him.

"Got it. I'm ready, Alex." There was a swishing sound, then a loud splat as leather impacted flesh. "Ahhh! Christ...." John bit it off, clenching his jaw tighter now that he knew what to expect. How the hell he was going to take thirty, he didn't know, but John did know he owed it to his lovers to try.

Alex looked over John's head, meeting Fox's eyes, and Fox knew that Alex hated this, hated it with a passion, the way Alex hated anything. He sent his lover an encouraging nod, and Alex took a deep breath and landed the second blow.

After ten, there wasn't a hair's width of unpunished rear left, and Alex again looked up to Fox, getting the hoped for nod.

The next ten were delivered about half the strength of the first, not that John could really tell the difference at that point. His ass was blazing, the sting racing in rivulets up and down his spine, the hurt deep and profound. He'd given up trying to be stoic, and now he yelled loud and honestly with each searing lick.

By the time Alex laid down the last one, John was crying, and only Fox's grip on his hands had kept them in place for the final ten. His backside was a deep, angry red and Alex could see that there would be a faint bruise or two in a couple of places. It was acceptable, they were, after all, grown men and not children, and he sighed with relief as he put his belt back on.

"Done."

John sagged at the pronouncement, and Alex gathered him up, holding him tightly and comforting him as best he could. While Alex held John, Fox drew a change of clothes out of the bag, and then moved to add his own comfort.

John's tears had tapered off, he never cried much, but he was still shaking hard. "I'm sorry."

"Shhh. We know, babe, it's okay. Settle down now, and let us help you get changed."

"Yes, sir." John didn't even notice what he'd said, but Alex and Fox both caught it, figuring it was just an ingrained response from the older man. He'd called Walter "sir" after Walter had spanked him, and he'd been fine.

Fox knelt down and began untying John's black work shoes. "Pick up your foot, John." John did, and Fox took off the shoe and sock, doing the same on the other side. The pants were pooled around his ankles already, and Fox easily slipped them off, easing the underwear back up and gently covering his lover's backside. John winced: the boxers were loose, but his backside was still wailing. Alex removed John's coat, shirt and tie, leaving the tee shirt on.

Fox slipped a pair of loose jeans up John's legs. He'd prefer to put the man in sweats, but John still had to turn in his car. The older man hissed lightly as they were drawn up and fastened, and Fox couldn't help but place a gentle kiss on each painful cheek, before standing up. Alex slipped a sweatshirt over John's head, and then kissed John on the mouth, soft and gentle.

"We're going to leave now, John. We'll drive for an hour and a half, then stop for gas. We brought you a couple of sandwiches and a thermos of soup, if you're hungry."

"I think I can eat." As he said it, John had absently reached back, rubbing carefully at his backside, trying to ease the sting at least a little before getting in the car.

"Good, you'll feel better if you do. Okay, love, in the car, please."

John clenched his jaw and forced himself to take his seat in one quick movement. It was only after he was adjusted and had fastened his seatbelt, that he swore softly, and began to squirm. It was going to be a long damn hour and a half.

Alex got in, handed over the food and started the car. Soon, they were headed down the highway, back home. John ate in silence, trying to ignore his discomfort, and Alex let him have the quiet.

When he'd eaten, John hesitated a moment before asking, "I don't suppose you'd let me lie down in the back seat, would you?"

"So long as you lie on your back, sure. Would you like me to pull over so you can move?"

"Yeah. I'm tired. I guess today took a little more out of me than I thought."

Alex found a parking lot and pulled over. John dutifully laid down in the back, on his back, his sore butt not under as much pressure, but still making a fuss about the situation. That wasn't why he'd asked, though. He really was tired, and it wasn't many more miles before he'd fallen asleep. Alex hit the hands free button on his cell phone, spoke Fox's name quietly. His cell phone had a tiny headset, and it was a matter of seconds to slip it on.

In the rearview mirror, he saw that Fox simply spoke, so he must have already been wearing his.

"Did you call Skinner?"Alex asked softly, not wanting to wake up John.

"Of course. I did that as soon as we found him, while John was climbing the rope out. And just now, I called Walter." Fox smiled, and Alex forced his eyes onto the road, and not into the image in his mirror.

"How is he?"

"Mad as hell, in both personas. But relieved, too. He's blaming himself, just a little."

"That's ridiculous, Fox, none of this is anyone's fault but John's."

"I know that. I told him that, but I wouldn't be surprised if we don't have a grumpy bear in a day or two that suddenly needs a swat to lose his attitude." It was true that when Walter felt guilty over something that only he felt responsible for, he'd often act out by being surly, until one of his lovers took him to task, and gave him the spanking he'd not-so-secretly felt he deserved.

"Fox?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Do you ever wonder if we're doing the right thing? You know, the discipline part of our arrangement?"

Fox hesitated for a moment, then spoke with quiet authority. "I used to, all the time. Despite how comforting I found it, the professional in me had to wonder if it was really right. So, I did some research on us, and came to a few very interesting conclusions. Wanna hear them?"

"Please." Alex loved Fox in 'teacher' mode, as he called it. Bonus points if Fox were wearing his glasses while explaining something.

"Since we started the discipline aspect of our relationship, Walter's blood pressure has stabilized, and even begun to lower. He averages an ulcer flare up once every four months, as opposed to the previous once every two weeks. His overall mental health has improved and he's more relaxed, in my professional opinion. That's Walter. So I'd have to say that we're definitely doing the right thing for him. Then there's you."

"I can't wait to hear this." Alex was lightly teasing, but he was curious, too.

"You used to drink approximately three times a week. Not get drunk, not drink a lot, but simply have a shot or two. Now, you drink about three times a month, and no more per episode than before, so you haven't replaced frequency with volume. Your nightmares have dropped from one every fourth night or so, to one every couple of weeks, and the intensity of the nightmares has lessened. Your ability to receive comfort and self-comfort following an episode has increased. Your overall emotional expressiveness has increased, and your conflict withdrawal has minimized. My professional opinion is that it's been good for you, too."

Alex was stunned. He hadn't noticed any of those changes, except the fact that he wasn't having as many nightmares, and they weren't as bad. "Wow." It was all he could think to say, and Fox gave a mild chuckle.

"As for me, my anger management skills have increased, my self-worth is about twenty points higher on the Borvis scale, and my headaches have decreased in frequency, duration and intensity. Plus, well, I just feel better knowing you guys will rein me in when I need you to. That last isn't professional, that's the patient speaking."

"I caught that. So, it's been good for you, too. But what about John?"

"I don't know." Fox bit his lip, face showing that he was clearly thinking. "I mean, before tonight, he's only had the one spanking. And while he's spanked both of us, I don't really have enough data for a full conclusion. I don't know."

"Damn. I guess I was hoping for some reassurance, after punishing him so hard earlier. I'm okay with it, if it's really what he needs, but I can't stand the thought of him just taking it for our sakes."

"I'm not." The voice was a sleepy murmur, and Alex glanced into the rear view mirror in time to see John painfully sit up, grimacing slightly, but looking dead serious. "I'm not taking it for you guys. You'd love me either way, I know that. And I don't have to do it for pride's sake or any of that macho shit. I do it because I like the way it makes me feel inside, when it's all over. You gave me the lickin' of my life back there, Alex, and all I feel is grateful. I was safe, I was okay, you caught me and you held me and you didn't let go. You didn't let me leave and you didn't let me get away with it. I fuckin' need that, Alex, whether I hate to admit it or not. It's good for me, I promise you that."

"Thanks, John."

"You're welcome. Now get off the damn phone and let me sleep."

Alex chuckled and heard Fox's similar response, John's words having been audible to him, too. Alex obliged, and John was soon asleep again.

About forty minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of a truck stop. It had a gas station on one side, a restaurant on the other, and nearly anything else you could imagine in the middle. When Alex and Fox had filled up, Alex went inside to pay. Fox turned to John. "Come with me, please, John."

The older man looked a little anxious, but dutifully followed Fox into the men's room. It locked, and the walls were thick concrete blocks, ensuring privacy. Once Fox had made sure they were alone, he turned to John.

"It's my turn to punish you, John. Take down your pants, and lean over the sink."

John swallowed hard but did so, taking a death grip on the porcelain. Fox wrapped an arm around his waist, holding the slender figure tightly to his side and hip, securing them both.

"You will not use me or my past as an excuse. It's wrong and hurtful to me and to Skinner, and it's beneath you, John."

"Yes, sir." John heard himself say it this time, but figured it was only right. If you were bent over, sticking your bare ass out to get it smacked by another man, it was simply good sense and manners to refer to that man as "sir".

Fox looked down at the lean rear with regret. The muscles were still red, and the slight welting from earlier was obvious. Sighing, steeling himself, Fox brought his hand down firmly. John flinched hard, but then adjusted his stance slightly, nodding to show Fox he was ready.

Fox carefully spanked at the undersides of John's rear. Alex had concentrated on the fullness of the cheeks, wanting to be safe with the belt, and now Fox ensured that the lowest part of each cheek was equally tended. He finished with a half dozen over the entire bottom, but placed the final two at the very tops of John's thighs.

John had squirmed, and little grunts and quiet yelps had escaped his tightly clenched jaw while Fox had punished him. His backside, only just having calmed down from Alex's whipping, was again throbbing and burning, the nerves protesting this further chastisement with a determined ache that John knew he would feel with each step.

But he didn't fight it, he couldn't. John knew he deserved it, and even as he gingerly rubbed the sore flesh, he was grateful to Fox for punishing him.

"I'm sorry, Fox. It was juvenile and petty and just plain shitty. I won't do it again."

"Thank you. Do you forgive me for punishing you now, when you have another half an hour to ride?"

"Yeah, I get that, too. It makes sense, you aren't just being mean."

"Thank you, again." Fox held his arms out, and the two men shared a long hug, before Fox helped him pull his clothing back up. "Almost done, love." Fox whispered it against John's temple, and they left, John's hands clasped to his bottom and not giving much of a damn what anybody thought about it.

He winced as he got in the car, sitting in the front seat again, and Alex gave him a look of sympathy, before starting the engine.

When they arrived at the Hoover Building, John carefully eased out of the car, muscles tight and unhappy. He gave a surreptitious rub, aware of the security cameras everywhere, and then took the keys from Fox. When the car had been turned in, and everything official taken care of, Alex and Fox walked him to Skinner's office. They stopped at the waiting area, giving John a kiss for luck.

Squaring his shoulders, the man knocked, knowing that the fact that Skinner was still here this late was not a good sign.

"Come in."

John said a brief prayer, and went in. Skinner's face could have been carved out of granite, but John caught the mix of love, relief and vestigal worry in the dark brown eyes, before they shuttered over with cold fury.

"Agent Doggett. We have a great deal to discuss. Have a seat."

"I'd rather stand, sir...."

"Sit." It was barely above a quiet statement; but the single word carried so much pure authority in it that Alex and Fox, listening in via the intercom on the secretary's desk, promptly dropped to the couch in the waiting room. As soon as they realized what they'd done, both men had to fight desperately to stifle an inappropriate and pervasive fit of the giggles.

In the office, John had immediately taken a seat, and now, as he saw the jaw clench, Skinner knew that both Alex and Fox must have gone with the original punishment they'd all talked about.

Not that the sympathy Walter felt for his lover was going to keep Skinner from tearing his agent a new one. Getting comfortable, Skinner proceeded to do just that. It was, in terms of dressing downs, the best either Fox or Alex could personally recall, and that was saying quite a bit.

When it ended, John was thoroughly subdued, restricted to desk duty for a month and, in a fitting tribute to Fox, assigned to tape surveillance transcription for every day of that month. He also received an official write up, his first, and this spot on his record hurt John almost as much as the scolding.

"I'm sorry, Agent. I know it's your first official reprimand, but I had no choice."

"I know, sir."

"No hard feelings?"

"No, sir."

"I've taken the further action of suspending you for one day without pay. You won't be coming in tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

"That's all, then. Any questions or comments?"

"No, sir."

"Dismissed."

John slunk out of the room, sore tail visibly dragging. It broke Walter's heart, and he followed the man out of the room.

"In here, Agent." Skinner motioned to the bathroom, and John entered, only to be immediately engulfed in a huge embrace.

He clung, needing Walter's solid reassurance and sighed deeply, cherishing the feeling.

"John, love, are you really alright?" Walter murmured into John's left temple, lips pressed firmly against the warm skin.

"Yeah. I ain't sayin' my ass is happy, but I'm okay. Better now." John admitted it softly, and Walter hugged him even tighter for a second, rubbing his back and soothing him.

"I love you."

"I know. I love you, too, Walt. And I'm damn sorry."

"Shhhh. I know, we'll talk when I get home."

"Yeah, I bet we will." John sighed, but there had been no bitterness in his tone. "Walter?"

"Yes?"

"I'm thinking since Alex whipped me and Fox spanked me, I should expect a paddlin' when you get home, huh?" It wasn't really asked as a question, but there was too much uncertainty in it to be a statement, either.

"When you get home, John, put the hairbrush on the stool."

"Yes, sir." His ass clenched at the mere thought, but John only huddled closer to Walter's chest.

Walter held him for a minute longer, then spoke softly. "I need to get back to work, John, I've got another good hour before I can even think of leaving, maybe longer. You go home, let Alex put you into a nice warm bath, let Fox lotion you."

"Sounds good." Alex took great delight in pampering his lovers after a discipline session, and John knew candlelight and bubbles would be his without the humiliation of asking for them. And Fox would be waiting with the unscented lotion, taking equal pleasure in providing as much physical comfort as he could. And Fox gave a damn fine massage, those long fingers....

"John? Are you asleep?" Walter's voice brought him out of his reveries with a slight start and a chuckle. He eased himself back.

"Nah, just lost in future pleasure." He grinned, and Walter smiled back, relieved to see the crooked line of amusement. "Let me get outta here, so you can come home to us. It's worth takin' another tannin' if it means we're still all together, and we're all good."

Relieved immensely, Walter dared a real kiss, dead on the mouth and not holding back. "Go."

John, slightly dazed but happy, nodded and left. Alex was waiting in the hallway, on point, and Fox was just inside the door of the entryway. They'd been standing guard for the men, and John graced them with a smile, before letting them lead him out to the car. He groaned as the door opened, but to his surprise, Fox took his arm.

"Lie down in the back. On your stomach."

"Yeah?" Looking hopeful, but not sure he deserved the break, John was reassured when Fox very gently tapped his rear, smiling broadly.

"Yeah. And don't give me any lip about it."

John chuckled and gladly stretched out on his stomach in the backseat. Soon, they were home, and he was being led up the stairs and toward their bathroom.

XxXxX

When he'd had a good soak, a massage and was clad in loose boxers and an old tee shirt of Walter's, John padded barefoot down the hall to the guest bedroom. He picked up the hairbrush from the dresser there, and tried not to think about how solid the damn thing was as he dutifully took it down to the den, placing it as ordered on the footstool. He reached back, his backside having recovered quite a bit between the bath and the massage, but he was still tender, and he knew a paddling would by god hurt.

"I don't have to." Walter's voice broke into his thoughts gently.

"Hey. When'd you get home?" John didn't look up, just stayed where he was, back to the door, standing with his hands on his hips, head bent, staring at the floor.

"About five minutes ago. And I mean it, I don't have to. If you think you've had enough, your word's good enough for me."

John shook his head. "I'm damn tempted to lie to you, Walter, but I done enough of that today. No, sir. Finish it." There was almost an air of command to the rough voice, and Walter knew John was sincere.

He moved to the stool without another word and drew John across his lap, pinning the slighter man easily. It was a simple matter to ease down the boxers, and he did so, wincing as the punished bottom was revealed. Walter rested the back of the brush on one slight cheek, and spoke softly. "Alright, John. This is it, the last thing, and you're through. Clean slate, all is forgiven. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do we need to talk about why you're being punished?"

"Alex whipped me for lying to you guys. Fox spanked me for using him. I reckon you're gonna paddle me for risking my life. And even though I know it turned out just fine, I'm aware that it coulda gone real bad, real fast. I took a foolish chance, Walter, one that might have killed me." There was genuine remorse and sorrow in John's voice, and Walter nodded, rubbing the tense back lovingly.

"Exactly. Right, I don't need to add anything, except that none of us ever expect to have to punish you for any of these things ever again. Well, except the lying thing, we are men." It was hint of humor, and John's mouth quirked, even as he nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"John, this will be bad. I regret that, but serious actions require serious consequences. You ready?"

"Ready, Walt. Lemme have it." John had a death grip on the leg of the stool and on Walter's ankle, and now, with a sigh of reluctance, Walter brought the back of the hairbush blasting down across the upturned bottom. "Fuck!" It was a loud yell of pain, but Walter only waited silently until John had taken several deep breaths and lowered himself back down. "Sorry, Walt."

"It's okay, it damn well hurt. Yell the house down, babe, you're entitled." Walter said it while watching a furious red/purple color flood one lean cheek in a perfect oval.

When John nodded, Walter landed a matching mark on the other cheek, and then returned to the first, placing his next lick upwards, catching the very underside of the bottom, then repeating it on the other side.

John cried out with each searing blow, and he felt tears filling his eyes. He didn't care, he let them fall, knowing the harsh blows were needed. The thought of what could have happened to him was a million times worse than being paddled, however hard, and John's fear was finally able to release itself.

And he'd been afraid. Alone, in the gathering dark, cold and furious with himself, John had been scared of dying right there, never to be found. And afraid of the time he'd have to spend dying, alone, trapped.

His mind had also pictured the other three men, searching for him in vain, finding him too late. He'd seen their anguish, their pain as he was taken from them by his own deceitful hand. As Walter's next spank landed squarely in the center of his rear, John's howl was almost a sound of relief.

Walter heard it too, and added one more, in exactly the same place. It let the dam break, and suddenly John was sobbing, weak with relief and emotional exhaustion.

Throwing down the brush, Walter helped him up, not surprised when the smaller man simply moved into his lap and arms.

"It's okay, John, I've got you. We've got you, you're okay."

"S-s-sorry, Walt, so d-damn s-sorry...."

"Shhh. It's alright, John. Go on, let it out, love. It's over now, you're forgiven. You cry all you need to."

John nodded against Walter's chest.

Sometimes, in the back of his mind, he secretly thought the four of them allowed the spankings, in part, just to have an excuse to cry. And cry he did, until nothing was left but the warm reassurance of Walter's arms, and the fiery absolution of his paddling.

When John had nearly calmed, Walter spoke gently. "Fox and Alex are at the doorway. Are you ready for them?"

John didn't answer with words, choosing instead to sit up and hold out his arms to them. As they wrapped him up in their love, murmuring peace and forgiveness, John sighed. It might be days before he could sit again, but he would never be able to forget that he was one of the fortunate ones; he belonged to somebody, three of them, and those somebodies loved him fierce.

Snuggling down further into the three-fold hug, John Doggett gave himself over to loving them back.

###

raven@aeneas.net

Title: Bad Dog
Author: Raven
Email: raven@aeneas.net
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: I wrote this little nothing for one reason and one reason only. I wanted to read about Doggett getting spanked, and I couldn't figure out by whom. If anybody can rec some good Doggett spanking fic, I'll bless your name in public. I feel compelled to add that this will not be the start of a series. Not!!! I have one more little version of Doggett's first spanking in mind, but after that, I'm done. For now. (never say never...)
Warnings: Contains Doggett. Um, assume all episodes, don't expect any canon, and Doggett is the only one still working for the FBI. Also, spanking warning. (see notes)
Pairing: M/K/Sk/D - proceed at own risk!
Disclaimer: The characters within these stories belong to Fox, 1013, CC et al. There is no profit made or intended from these stories, and they should be considered as being for entertainment purposes only. Summary: Just a spanky little vignette.

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