The Past Imperfect Series

by Emily and Dr. Ruthless

Fandom: Kiss Tommorrow Goodbye/The X-Files

Category/Rated: NC17 Slash

Year/Length: ~183,580 words

Pairing: Dustin Yarma/Alex Krycek

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, only having fun.

Summary: Dustin retained Alex Krycek to rub Minnow out.

Author's Notes: Thanks to Sebastian for sterling beta work. All remaining errors are ours.

1: For Services Rendered

Alex Krycek loomed over Dustin Yarma as he sat, still reeling at the idea that Minnow had come to an untimely end. Dustin had been writing a check for the balance of the money he'd promised the assassin who looked so much like him, when Alex had told him the payment he was really holding out for.

"But I like girls, Alex..." Dustin was confused. This situation was, despite his dissolute lifestyle, way beyond anything he'd ever experienced.

"So do I," husked Alex, smiling the smile of a shark. "As well - but you've been a bad boy, Dustin."

"Well, fuck, like you haven't!" Dustin was completely unable to think of anything badder than this killer for hire, who was invading his body space. He was beginning to think that Minnow hadn't been so bad after all.

Alex's smile didn't waver, but he pressed in a little closer to Dustin, causing a frisson of fear to shimmer the length of the other man's spine. "Yeah, but I'm allowed to. It's my job!" he said, sweetly.

Dustin shook his head, as much to clear it as in denial. "I don't understand. What do you want from me?"

"Honesty. Devotion. Obedience." The words fell between them, and there was a gasp from Dustin, followed by a stunned silence.

"Obedience?" When at last he spoke, Dustin's voice was breathy, and his eyes were round with astonishment. "You think I'm a dog or something?"

"Woof woof, Dusty boy." Alex grinned nastily again, and took out a collar. "I bought you something today, Dustin." Dustin backed away, finally colliding with the wall, a really wild look in his eyes.

"Stay away, you bastard. Don't come near me."

Alex stood beside the couch, waiting for Dustin to come to rest. Once his double had reached the corner, he spoke in a firm, yet calm voice. "Get over here, Dustin."

Dustin didn't move, other than to shrink further into the corner. He must have been nuts to think that he could get rid of his problems so simply. When would he ever learn? Pressed tight against the wall, he viewed Krycek with a terrified look that was a little short of panic.

"I'll... I'll call the police. You can't do this to me."

Alex sauntered towards him, smirking. "What'll you tell them, exactly, Dusty? Hmm...?" He extended a finger to caress Dustin's chest. Dustin jumped as the finger touched his shirt, and looked nervously around him. "Why are you doing this? There must be something you'd rather be doing?"

"Nope," grinned Alex, and fondled his chest, before suddenly taking hold of Dustin's shirt and ripping it. "I need to do this. It's time for your punishment, Dustin."

Dustin choked. His hands came up to try to stop Alex from tearing his clothes, but without much real effort, merely batting feebly at Alex. "What... what do you want me to do?"

"Take off your pants and stand against the wall," was the uncompromising reply. Alex ran his hand contemplatively over Dustin's chest, where the torn shirt had exposed satin skin.

"My pants?" croaked Dustin. "Why? What are you...?" He hung his head.

"Do it, Dustin... or else." Alex's eyes were darkening in lust now, and his body language had changed from languorous to threatening. "Hurts me more than you," he sneered.

Dustin's eyes flickered as he hoped against hope for a way out of this. He began reluctantly to unfasten his buttons, but he was moving surreptitiously, sidling towards the door.

"Uh-uh, Dustin. Against the wall. NOW!" Krycek's voice rang out like a pistol shot. It was obvious that he wasn't going to let Dustin run. The terrified producer drew his breath in sharply, and straightened up to stand rigid against the wall. His hands fell to his sides, and he whimpered, scared of what might happen next. His eyes closed, veiling panicked eyes as he stood, head back, martyred against the stucco.

"Good boy," breathed Alex. He stepped right in against him and shoved him into the wall, leaning over to bite his ear - a quick, sharp nip that jerked a gasp from Dustin.

"Don't, please." He was trying again - a last, desperate attempt to escape this situation. "I've got money. I can pay you."

Alex was nuzzling into the smooth skin of Dustin's throat and spoke against the throb of Dustin's pulse. "Don't want your money, Dusty. I've got enough of that." Dustin gave a sob, and allowed his head to fall back against the wall.

"I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?" The words came to Dustin as a purr, heard through veils of terror. Alex bit his neck softly and caressed his back and flanks. "You're so... innocent..."

Dustin racked his brain for the last time he had been called that. It was a very long time in the past. He stood motionless, and Alex raised his head until his knowing eyes met Dustin's. At that moment, Dustin realized exactly how true Alex's words had been. He was innocent indeed.

"Why do you want to do this? What can humiliating me get you?" His voice was very small - a series of breathless little hiccups. Innocent indeed!

Alex was smiling again, as remote as an icon. For a moment, Dustin wondered if he was truly human, or if he were a djinn, blown here to torment him. "In the end, you won't be humiliated." Alex smiled at him, and the intense gaze bored into Dustin's skull. "In the end, you'll crave it... I told you..." He looked almost sad for a moment, and then said unexpectedly, "I can free you, you know."

"Why would you want to?" said Dustin, taken completely by surprise. "How could you free me?" His breath started to quicken as Alex touched him. He couldn't avoid the exploring hands and even though he shrank away, the caresses were having a strange effect on him.

"I can be your ego, and your id. I can be what you need. I can be you, then you won't have to be..." Alex had dropped his hands to Dustin's fly, and his fingers were probing, stroking, and finally starting to unzip the expensive linen slacks that Dustin wore. "I can give you... devotion, trust, power..."

Dustin shrank from the hand that was invading his groin. It felt good, but it was terrifying too. The words he'd heard rattled around inside his head, and he shivered at the implications. "You want to take my identity? You want to be me? You can't. I won't let you."

"No, you misunderstand, pet. I can help you."

"You mean you can help yourself," snorted Dustin. By this time Alex had extracted Dustin's cock and was palming it gently, feeling it fill with little spurting movements under his onslaught.

Alex looked at Dustin, smiling as he felt his arousal. Knowing Dustin didn't really want it seemed to make him want it more. But he wasn't sure how he felt about that. "And you. Let me help you, Dustin."

Dustin had begun to babble now. "How can you help me? What can you do for me that I can't do for myself?" Taking a deep breath, he put his hands on Alex's shoulders and tried to push him away.

Alex looked into Dustin's eyes, becoming angry now. "Dustin," he warned, "Don't make me hurt you." He pushed Dustin back against the wall, not too hard, but not softly either. "Turn around and let me see your pretty, pretty ass."

He unzipped slowly, his eyes slightly menacing, predatory.

Dustin shook his head again, even though his cock was pulsing, hard as iron in Alex's hand. He squirmed, attempting to move away, and gasped as Alex squeezed him. "No, no. Don't do this. Please don't." His blood ran a little cold as he recalled another time and place, and a girl saying those very words to him. He was doomed. It was payback time.

"You know you want it," Alex growled, trying to suppress his doubts.

He laughed darkly. "Look at you... hard as a flagpole. You know you want me to lick you... " Alex licked his lips lustily, stroking Dustin's cock more firmly, rubbing a thumb over the tip.

Dustin gasped, and a trickle of fluid dripped from the eye of his cock at the thought, perverse as it was. He spread his thighs apart slightly as Alex's expert fingers tugged and caressed him, unable to resist the sensations that were beginning to flow through him.

Alex flicked his eyes to Dustin's briefly, pulse quickening at the ghost of lust he saw there. "Yeah..." he said, a barely audible whisper.

He dropped to his knees. "Oh, Dustin... please..." He put his hands on Dustin's hips and watched him.

Dustin could no longer speak. He felt as though he were a small, insignificant rodent, stalked by a sleek Siamese. The beauty of his pursuer did nothing to ease the pain of his imminent demise. He began to shake, knowing that he stood no chance against the insistent Krycek, and besides, it felt so fucking NICE.

Alex took Dustin's pants all the way down and grinned at the feel of that tight, tight ass as he passed his hands back and over the twin firm globes, squeezing slightly. His cock twitched as he licked just the tip of Dustin's cock lightly, teasingly.

He looked up into Dustin's eyes.

"Oh, yeah... tell you what... go lie face down on the couch..."

Dustin didn't know quite what to do. He couldn't do anything except let Alex touch him. He shivered with the fear that making a movement under his own volition would somehow validate the things that were happening to him. Finally, when Alex prompted him, he moved as though he was in a dream. Reaching the couch at last, he merely stood there, unmoving.

Alex took some lube from a cabinet near the couch and looked at Dustin, wishing he weren't so... wooden, as though he was just going through the motions. But maybe he was? Pushing the thought aside, he walked over to Dustin and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Dustin, pet, lie down."

His reluctant double continued to stand for a few moments more. "I'm afraid. You'll hurt me." Finally, at Alex's insistent prompt, he dropped to his knees, lowered his head, and waited.

Alex, seeing that Dustin really was scared, sat beside him, patting his back lightly, wondering if he really wanted to put him at ease, or whether he was perversely enjoying the man's discomfiture.

Dustin, pathetic now, suddenly seemed to give up and leaned into the comfort that Alex was offering. For a minute there was silence, and then he whispered, "Please don't hurt me. Anything you want as long as you don't hurt me."

Alex wrapped his arms around Dustin, pulling him close. "I... I... no, I could never hurt you, Dustin. I care for you..." he said, surprising himself by his own sincerity.

"I won't hurt you. Not much. I'll be gentle. It's your first time... I know." He kissed Dustin sensuously on the mouth. "I could never hurt you," he added, knowing how tempted he'd been to do just that.

"What... What are you going to do?" Dustin melted into the kiss, quite suddenly losing his rigidity and leaning against Alex. He seemed to have reverted to a childlike manner, and made no more attempts to push Alex away as the assassin kissed him ever more deeply, delving into his mouth as he explored it.

After a few minutes, Dustin put a timid arm around Alex's back, and began to pull him closer.

Alex tightened his arms around Dustin, holding him against his chest. He leaned in, nibbling lightly at his ear as he spoke softly into it. "I'm going to make you very happy. I'm going to take away all your fears. I'm gonna make it so no-one can ever hurt you again, Dustin."

Somehow it seemed wrong to continue without Dustin's permission. Alex longed to take the beautiful man, to possess him totally, willingly. As he squeezed Dustin's back and kissed him again, briefly, he was asking himself why he didn't just go ahead as he had with all the others in the past.

"You can't. Nobody can," said Dustin, with a small, desolate sigh. He'd been responsible for death and betrayal, and he felt as though he was no longer grounded. He stayed in Alex's arms, nestling as though he was comfortable there. Alex sat beside him, content to hold him as he snuggled. He could feel that there were still tremors of fear running through Dustin's body.

Alex stroked Dustin's hair and neck. "I can. I can do it, Dustin... I will. Now, be a good boy and lie down, okay?" He kept stroking Dustin's hair, then leant down and kissed his eyelids lightly. "You'll see, pet. It will all be fine."

Dustin lifted his head at that and gave a frightened little sob.

"You think I'm an animal," he mumbled, as he obediently moved to lie down.

As Alex slid back out of the way he looked at him out of the corner of his eye and asked almost breezily, "Why do you say that, Dustin?" He stroked Dustin's back softly, kneeling beside him as he settled on the couch.

"You call me pet." Dustin sounded indignant, and for a moment he stiffened up. "You're making me do this. What else should I believe? I have no choice in it." Once more, he relaxed, laying his head against Alex's broad chest, almost as if he were daring Alex to do his worst.

Alex sighed. "Dustin, Dustin. I'm freeing you, don't you see that?" He moved his hands lower, resting them on Dustin's ass. He rubbed gently, not yet touching his asshole.

Dustin smiled spitefully. "Freeing me? Or just helping yourself?" He bit his lip and moved against Alex's hand in an unconsciously sensuous manner that was quite at variance with the words he'd spoken.

Alex looked away contemplatively. He thought about it - Dustin almost had a point.

Almost, Alex? He thought to himself, wryly. That's a laugh. Don't kid yourself.

"When you give yourself to someone, completely, it frees you..." He knew that was the theory, and hoped that Dustin's movements beneath him meant that the other was beginning to be convinced.

"But I'm not giving, am I?" asked Dustin, his lashes fluttering in mockery of seduction. "You're taking!"

Alex lubed up a few fingers, holding his hands so that Dustin could see him do it.

"Tsk, tsk. A little ungrateful to speak to me that way, hmm?"

Dustin closed his eyes and turned away, feather-lashes brushing his cheek as he averted his head. Alex continued, rubbing some of the lube into the other man's skin, his eyes searching for a spontaneous response.

"Am I taking, Dustin? Here you are, pet - so hard; so ready for it." So damn cute with that pout, he thought. "Baby... look at me."

"For fuck's sake!" The expletive took Alex by surprise. He hadn't thought that irritation would be the emotion that surfaced when his victim finally broke. Dustin turned to glare at Alex. "You won't be satisfied until you have it all, will you?" he said, naively.

"Nope." Alex looked at him coldly for a moment. He slowly leaned over, parting Dustin's cheeks and kissing Dustin's rosebud. He licked at Dustin's asshole - Damn. He's so fucking tight - and slowly worked his tongue into that sweet hole, using gentle yet insistent pressure.

Hard as rock, wanting it, but not wanting it, Dustin was reduced to jelly as he felt his tormentor's tongue on him - IN him, for Christ's sake. He cried out once, totally beside himself and spread his legs a little wider under the onslaught. His dick was really leaking now, twitching visibly. Nobody had ever done this to him before. To be frank, he hadn't even known that it was an option, but it sure felt good.

Alex looked up at Dustin's face briefly, sensing his conflict. "That's better," he whispered huskily. Taking Dustin's cock in one hand, moaning as he chewed out Dustin's ass, he stroked Dustin's cock, running his thumb over the weeping tip.

"You're so fucking hot, Dustin..."

Alex got up on the couch on top of Dustin... positioning himself for a 69. "Roll over, baby," he said softly, taking Dustin's sac in his teeth for a moment.

Dustin leaned back, then thrust forward, not knowing which way to move. He could feel the heat of his excitement licking up his balls and knew he was going to come soon. His eyes drooped closed again as he felt Alex mouthing him, and he scooted down until he was fully supported by the couch.

He rolled his head from side to side as the tide of pleasure built, and found that his head had fetched up against Alex's groin. He started back as he suddenly realized that he was nuzzling a stiff cock.

Alex kept tonguing Dustin hard as he stroked his cock. "Oh, baby... my sweet baby... let me take you..."

He leaned forward slightly, taking Dustin's cock into his mouth and played with his balls with his other hand. Running a finger along Dustin's crack, he sucked him, his tongue lapping over Dustin's head and shaft.

He strained his own hips back and down, wanting Dustin to take his cock... to give himself up...

"Come on, baby... give it to me, give it up..."

Dustin froze. He didn't want to say or do anything that might sound like assent. He knew that if he were to consent, to say yes, that he would have given in, and yet it felt so good. He stared wild-eyed at Alex, knowing that he had to do something, but not knowing quite what. The pulse and tingle of his cock was driving him mad.

Alex whispered lustily, "Take it, Dustin... take it..." Hoping and praying... silently urging Dustin to see how easy it was to relent, he looked at the other man and remembered belatedly that this was his first time. Go a little easy on him, Alex, he told himself, as he continued his encouragement.

Saying, "Please, Dustin..." he kept on licking, sucking, and fondling him.

It was all too much. Dustin tentatively put out his tongue and touched it to the head of Alex's cock, prepared to be revolted. He tasted the bead of liquid that hung there, and a shiver went through him. Somehow, the maleness and musk was arousing. He didn't stop to analyze things, he groaned, then sighed and opened his lips to take the purple tip into his mouth.

Alex moaned softly as his double hesitated a moment, then licked him. He felt he was on a precipice and soon enough he'd know whether he was going to keep control or whether he'd overbalanced and would be over the edge. "That's it, baby... see... it won't bite... no... Oh baby..."

He took Dustin's balls into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at them, and adding a few sharper nips. He blew hot air over them, and dove for his cock once more. Finding the engorged head, he latched onto it with his lips and drew him in deep.

Taking his lead from Alex, Dustin tried clumsily to copy, his fingers moving to hold onto Alex's cock as he explored it with his mouth. It was satin beneath his lips, and much, much larger than he had imagined. The taste of it was at once salty and a little bitter, and Alex made very satisfying groaning sounds when Dustin swirled a tentative tongue around the crown.

"Oh... yeah... mmm..." Even though Dustin was obviously unpracticed, the fact that he had taken his cock alone was enough to arouse Alex to new heights. Some precome dripped into Dustin's mouth. He wondered how he'd take that, and then reminded himself he wasn't supposed to care, though, unnervingly, he did.

Alex continued to palm Dustin's balls, as he mouthed his way down Dustin's cock, licking the ridge, then going back up and swallowing the head. Keeping Dustin's cock in his mouth, he used his tongue to caress that ridge of flesh between the head and shaft.

"Please..." gasped Dustin and bucked forward as he felt the tightness in his thighs that heralded the final race towards orgasm. He swallowed nervously and took Alex into his own mouth, sucking him in until he thought that he might choke, but needing to do this, or scream.

Alex had an arm around Dustin's torso, hugging him tightly, thrusting slightly at Dustin's mouth, trying to hold back the words that would let Dustin know how just good it was.

Alex took a finger, wetting it in his mouth, and slowly caressed Dustin's rosebud with it... lazily, just to see what Dustin would do.

Dustin had begun to grow a little more confident as he felt Alex move under his ministrations. He used his hands to grip Alex's ass, in mimicry of what the other man had done to him, pulling his cheeks apart as he kneaded his buttocks. The sensation of the fingers on his own anus was strange, but good. He attempted to mirror it, unsure how well he was managing to do it.

Alex moaned softly, in spite of himself. "Oh, yes, Dustin... yes... oh, you do me so well..."

As he felt Dustin stroke his buttocks and then his anus, he felt his balls drawing up to his body. It felt good, hot... he nipped at Dustin's ass cheeks as he continued to stroke his rim, slowly yet firmly.

"You're so fucking tight, Dustin..."

Dustin could feel Alex's cock slipping into his throat, deeper and deeper until he thought that he was going to gag. He was so aroused that it didn't seem to matter any more. He spread his legs wide and moaned.

Alex grinned around Dustin's cock. Oh yeah... he was his boy now. He felt powerful again, back on top, so to speak. He pressed his finger into Dustin's asshole, slowly at first... then a bit more firmly as he felt resistance. "Easy, Dustin... Only hurts a little..."

It was all building inside Dustin now, lust sparking through him as he bucked, unable to stop himself. Something that Alex was doing felt so good he thought he might have to scream.

Alex tongued Dustin's cock harder, and added another finger to Dustin's asshole. Reaching with them for Dustin's prostate... where was it... THERE! He found it!

"Oh, Dustin... Dustin..." Dustin's mouth on his cock was driving him mad and he thrust into it, gasping.

Dustin now had most of Alex's dick down his throat, and he was sucking hard. There was no finesse, he'd never done this before, but he didn't care any more. When Alex touched his magic button, he had to keep himself from biting down on the other man's erection. He choked.

Alex paused when Dustin choked. He pulled out slightly, but he couldn't help himself from thrusting back almost immediately. It felt too good. He decided if Dustin could take this, he'd give him some kind of reward. He yelped a little.

"Oh... Dustin... I'm about to come right down your throat! Oh, baby... you're being *so* good... so good."

Wanting more; wanting everything, Dustin no longer cared what was good and what was not. He couldn't hold back. He could feel himself climbing up towards orgasm; his balls bunched tight up against his body. Alex's voice was making no sense to him, other than as a husky, soothing sound that brushed his skin. All he wanted now was to come.

Alex sucked harder at Dustin, wanting him to come in his mouth. He probed at Dustin's prostate madly with his finger, trying to urge him to climax. "Come for me, come with me, baby... I want to drink you..."

He felt Dustin's balls tensing and his cock throb. He smiled, and flicked his tongue to Dustin's cock, catching the head of it. He took it fully into his mouth again, swirling his tongue around the head and probing the slit lightly.

The taste of Alex's cock was salt and sweet at the same time, and Dustin was past the point of no return. He could feel the bubbling along it that signaled the approach of climax, and he could feel Alex sucking on him, melting him. He gasped, then groaned, and everything locked up.

Alex thrust fiercely at Dustin, balls feeling tight as pool balls. His ass started the familiar pre-cum flexion.

"Oh, Dustin... you ready for me, baby?"

Shouting out around the hard cock in his mouth, Dustin could no longer hold himself back. He squeezed himself into Alex, willing it all to pour out. Alex sucked at Dustin, swallowing every drop as the other man came. He felt Dustin clutching at his ass cheeks convulsively as he spread his legs and plunged himself as far down that delicious throat as he could get, groaning as he too felt himself on the edge.

"Oh, Dustin... you taste so good... so good baby..." It didn't seem to matter to him anymore if Dustin knew he loved it... his mind was gone, anyway. He bucked and thrust, moaning and yelping as he squirted into Dustin's mouth.

Everything was tingling for Dustin as his orgasm rocked him. Somewhere in the distance, fuzzily, he could taste Alex as the assassin spurted bitter juice onto his tongue, but he no longer cared. He felt powerful as Alex writhed and squirmed.

Dustin tasted sweet and tangy and sour and a little bit bitter. Alex wasn't surprised by the bitterness... he'd been there, too. Licking every drop and sucking at Dustin for more, he cried out, "More, Dustin... more, please!"

He felt at Dustin's mercy, writhing above him, tonguing his cock for more, rubbing his prostate. Dustin could make him happy if he showed he was enjoying it...

"You've gotta be joking," gasped Dustin, his chest heaving. "It's your turn now. Give it up."

Alex gasped, and turned his head, resting it on Dustin's thigh. Trying to catch his breath, he breathed, "Give what up, Dustin?"

Tentatively pressing his thumb against Alex's ass, Dustin was lost in the memory of the pleasure he'd been given by Alex, just a few minutes previously. His mind was trying to process it all, but it was so difficult. He shivered.

Not quite being able to tell Dustin he had feelings for him, though he wanted to, Alex gasped. He pressed against Dustin's thumb... then thought about it. Did he really mean it? Could Dustin possibly care for him, too? "Why are you doing that, Dustin?"

As Dustin began to come down from the frenzy of a few minutes before, the cold realization of what he'd done, and worse, what he was still doing came home to him.

"I..." he was confused. "I don't know." he whispered, and turned his head away.

Dustin was feeling very unsure. His world was suddenly upside down, no longer the safe place it had once been. He needed something. He wanted to be held; to be told that he wasn't sick for doing this with another man. He looked up at Alex, accusingly. "You made me do this."

Alex turned away, saddened as he felt the other slip from his grasp, then wondering if it had been an illusion, anyway.

"Dustin... Dustin my sweet one. I told you I'd never hurt you..." He wanted to love Dustin now, hold him tight and never let anyone or anything else touch him again. To protect him, comfort him. To be loved by him, for himself - for who he was, not what he did.

More than anything, he wanted to release this man from his past.

More questions bombarded his brain. And will that free you yourself, Alex?

Is it all so altruistic as you'd like to think? Who will you be freeing more?

He shook his head, trying to silence the doubts, but they continued to clamor. Truth is, you just want something in your life you can control. You just want - "

Alex closed his eyes and opened them again as he clenched and released a fist.

Alex looked at Dustin. "No... I didn't make you do this. I helped you decide to want to do it." Coming down now, he was ready to step back into the role of teacher/protector/dominant. "I freed you to do it. Don't you see? It was all right because I said so. And you knew that."

He turned Dustin's head with a finger on his chin so he was looking at him. "And you wanted that," he added softly.

Cold shivers ran the length of Dustin's spine. He wasn't sure he could live with that answer, even though deep within him, he knew that it had the ring of truth. He sought refuge in anger. He'd made his mind up that tonight he was going to go out and get himself stinking drunk if he could. Alcohol was safe. If he had enough, he'd smile and forget... His face went slack. In his mind he had already withdrawn.

Alex sensed his withdrawal. God knew he did it himself often enough - he knew that look. "Dustin. Don't leave... please... come back. You'll only hurt yourself now. You're so... fragile." He didn't want to hurt Dustin, or let him self-destruct. Ironically his drinking, which Dustin considered an escape, was actually a prison of his own making... with walls that were ever closing in.

"Talk to me," he said softly.

"You want it all, don't you?" Dustin was suddenly right there, and fury blazed from the green eyes, so like Alex's own. "Why can't you leave me something?" His voice broke, and he lapsed into silence, still glaring a challenge at the man who was goading him so successfully.

Alex looked at Dustin sadly. He felt hurt, somehow, though he'd known Dustin wouldn't be an easy nut to crack...

"You have something, Dustin... you have it all, too."

Look around, urged Alex, soundlessly. I'm right here... you have me, too... If only he could say that to Dustin... Well, fuck, why can't you? he asked himself.

Gazing steadily into those angry eyes, the answer came.

Because he's immature yet. Total devotion scares him...

"Dustin, you... you have everything," was all he could say.

The furious Dustin held up his hand, and began itemizing on his fingers the things that were making him so angry.

"Okay, tell me what I have? Self respect? Nope. You pretty much took that one away. Can I sleep at night? Not any more. I'm afraid all the time. I'm scared of what's going to happen to me. That's all I have. What are you getting out of this, Alex?" He stepped in against Krycek, invading the man's body space as he stood, so close that he could feel the puff of Alex's breath as he gasped. It seemed that Alex wasn't used to having his victims turn the tables on him.

Alex stepped back until he fell back to sit on the couch. He was stunned. Did Dustin really not know? Or maybe he just didn't care... Please, God, don't let him be so blind...

"I... Dustin... don't you get it...?"

Please, Dustin... see that I'm bleeding for you... see that I want you to want me back...

He looked at Dustin, eyes revealing all. He wore no mask now.

Dustin laughed sourly.

"Get it? I get that you're making me do things. That's what I get." He slowly relaxed his aggressive stance, but then as Alex continued to stare at him with his heart in his eyes, he suddenly flushed and looked down.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he muttered.

Alex took Dustin's hand gingerly, rubbing the back of it with his thumb as he stared into emerald eyes that matched his own. He spoke softly. "Dustin. You're still on top. And that treatment for the WB you want them to take? I can make them take it for you." Surely Dustin could read him, see his need.

"First the carrot..." said Dustin, sarcastically. He reached to fondle Alex's cock. "Then the stick, right, Alex?"

Alex gasped as Dustin touched him. Could he be dreaming?

"Now what?" said Dustin, puzzled. He looked at Alex, raising an eyebrow in mute inquiry.

Alex looked at Dustin, confused himself.

"What do you mean, Dustin?"

"What do I mean?" Dustin snorted. "I mean that you want something from me, and you just take it. You force me to give it. It doesn't matter what I want. All I ever wanted was to have a good time. What's so wrong with that?" He was mad again, and looked delicious, his face flushed with the blood of anger, and his eyes glowing with righteous indignation.

"Dustin... baby..." Alex pulled Dustin closer, slipping an arm around his waist, looking at him with ... love? "Don't I please you... Dustin? Make you happy? Make you forget?"

Dustin subsided, his anger swiftly vanquished by the confusion he was feeling.

"You care, don't you?" he said in wondering tones. "It's not just a game is it?" There was desperate need in his voice. "Is it?"

Slipping his hands around Dustin's shoulders Alex pulled Dustin down to him, kissing him urgently, his mouth drinking in his warm spicy scent as he nipped his neck and ears.

"God, yes, I need you... you free me, too... do you see that now? The way you free me?" He kissed Dustin hungrily. "Not a game. Never."

Dustin sank himself into the kiss. He wasn't sure why, but he believed this man. He suddenly felt warm inside.

Alex pulled Dustin closer, kissing him fervently.

Slowly, Dustin brought his arms up to put them around Alex, sliding one hand up to cup the back of his head and hold his mouth in position.

Alex gasped, twining his tongue around Dustin's. "Oh, Dustin... you... you care for me too?" he asked, tentatively. But could he really, truly, after that?

He hugged Dustin to him and gazed into his eyes and a thought straight from the dark recesses of his mind sneered, 'You know you're just dying to slam him against a wall and fuck him rough...'

Alex kissed Dustin's nose, and smiled a bit, telling himself, Maybe next time. There *will* be a next time, won't there?

"You care? I don't understand." Dustin snuggled in closer, trying to determine by touch whether this beautiful, frightening man was sincere or not. "I just need something to believe in."

Alex stroked his face. "You can believe in me... in my ..." He wanted to say 'in my love for you,' but just couldn't.. "You can believe I will always care for you, always take care of you..."

Dustin put his hands on Alex's face, laying his palms flat on the other man's cheeks. "There's something... What aren't you telling me?" Leaning in, he searched Alex's face intently, as though by doing so he would be able to divine his true intentions. "Why do you want to take care of me? What's in it for you?"

Alex searched Dustin's face right back, trying to tell him everything with his eyes, the pain, the loneliness, the guilt and fear and hope.

"I... told you. I... need you. You... to me... you're everything..."

And you would free me too... get me away from my life, away from HIM...Alex realised.

"This is all so weird." Dustin hung his head, lowered it against Alex's shoulder, feeling the warmth of the man beneath the thin T-shirt that he wore. It was somehow reassuring. He leaned against Alex.

Alex sounded hopeful. "Good weird, Dustin?" He held Dustin close. "Dustin... oh, Dustin." He waited tensely.

The close contact was comforting. Dustin relished the warmth of the hard male body pressed so close to his. "Dunno. The jury's still out on what kind of weird." He turned his head slowly and leaned forward again, pressing his lips to Alex.

Alex grinned and kissed back, cupping Dustin's face in his palm. At least he wasn't running... 'But he will' came that awful voice again.

He leaned back to lie down on the couch, taking Dustin with him, kissing his hair. "I... I lo..."

He'll leave if you tell him, Alex. Don't be dumb! Alex told himself fiercely, shaking his head as if to clear it. He'll never love you. Who are you trying to kid?

Dustin froze, and jerked back.

"You...?"

Alex bit his lip scared Dustin would bolt if he'd guessed.

He looked at Dustin in alarm.

It's not that hard. 'I love you, Dustin.' You can say it, he reassured himself. He sighed. He had to tell him... But what if he froze because he was afraid I'd say that? What if it makes him run? What if it's all a game to him?

He lowered his eyelashes, and then looked back up, too quickly.

Dustin shook his head. Something wasn't quite right. He didn't understand, and he'd been through a whole lot of stress today.

"Please?" he said, just wanting to stop playing games for once in his life.

Alex sighed. Tried again. "I love ---"

Couldn't.

Closing his eyes again, Dustin burrowed in against Alex's neck, feeling the pulse there under his cheek. He licked at Alex's chin.

Alex whispered, "I love ---"

The words wouldn't come. I can't tell him - I can't, he thought desperately. He'll leave. No, he'll bolt. He'll have been gone five minutes ago.

He swallowed again, never taking his gaze from Dustin. But how do you know? he argued. Looks like he wants you too...

Alex shook his head to clear his mind.

"You love? What's the big secret, Alex?" Dustin's voice was light. He wasn't even sure if he'd heard the other man correctly. He was sure he didn't want to make a fool of himself by misinterpreting what he'd said. Far better to wait for confirmation.

Alex held Dustin close. He kissed his hair, and his ear. He pulled Dustin closer still and kissed and licked the hair at the nape of Dustin's neck, scratching it lightly.

He buried his nose and mouth against Dustin's neck to muffle the words, "I love you, Dustin..."

Now, if he bolts, I can cover myself...he thought nervously.

There was a pause, and then Dustin gave a sigh of relief that he swiftly turned into a snort of irritation.

"You've got a fucking horrible way of showing it," he complained. "Do you know how scared you made me?" He clung to Alex, running his hands over the assassin's back beneath the T-shirt, drawing a finger down the straps that held his prosthetic arm in place.

Alex relaxed noticeably, surprised, relieved, not quite believing.

He smiled as he felt Dustin caressing him.

He laughed nervously, holding Dustin close. "I did? I... I guess... I didn't mean to scare you. I... couldn't let you go though. Couldn't let you get hurt."

Dustin had slowly begun to relax a little now that he realized Alex wasn't going to kill him, fuck him with his gun or something equally unpleasant.

"Jeez. Next time, you could bring a bunch of roses, or take me out to dinner or something. You don't have to... to coerce me. Just be nice."

Alex stroked Dustin's hair softly. "I meant it when I said I'd never hurt you..." He kissed his neck and ear. "I only want to make you happy."

Dustin peeped shyly at him from below thick fans of lash. "You know what would make me happy right now?" he asked with a grin.

Likewise looking up from beneath his lashes, Alex smiled indulgently. "What?" he asked, running through some possibilities in his mind. Going to a club, I bet... he loves that... Or a hug... I know he loves those, but I am hugging him... Or... a warm bed? Together?

His smile widened, and an answering smile spread over Dustin's face. "A steak, and an ice-cold beer," he said, shortly. He drooled at the thought of it. "Wanna go get one? We could bring it home and watch the game...or something."

"That's the best idea I've heard in a long time. Let's go, then! But ... who chooses the brand of beer?" Alex chuckled.

Dustin gave Alex a veiled look through his lashes trying his hardest to look like an appealing puppy dog in a store window. 'We can get two kinds, can't we? Like I said, I've got money."

Alex kissed Dustin's nose. "All right, my pe - my love. That's true. You do... But... maybe I want to treat you!"

"So treat me." The voice was soft and intimate, and Dustin pulled Alex down to kiss him, slowly and thoroughly.

Alex said huskily, "I'll treat you, all right." He devoured that sweet mouth with his own, never wanting the kiss to end. He played with Dustin's neck, imagining how good he'd look wearing the dog collar he had bought for him.

Dustin giggled.

Alex thought of dog biscuits to go with the collar... catching a mental image of Dustin in his collar with the biscuits. He couldn't help but laugh.

"So... remember your present, Dustin?"

The return to suspicion was instant, as though Alex had flicked a switch within Dustin's mind.

"My present?"

Alex blinked. "Remember - what I gave you? Wait, why are you so nervous again?"

"That fucking dog collar? That what you mean?" There was anger in Dustin's voice again.

Alex stroked his face lovingly. "Easy, pet... love. Easy." He kissed Dustin again. "It's still me. Did you like the collar? You can tell me if you liked it or not... how did you feel when you saw it?"

"Liked it?" Dustin was incredulous. "You wanted to humiliate me. What's to like?"

Alex looked at him, still stroking his hair lazily. "Why do you think I wanted to do that, Dustin? You don't humiliate the ones you love..." Oh yes, you do, sometimes, remembered Alex.

"Oh, hell, Alex. I don't know if I like it or not." The voice was plaintive now as Dustin considered possibilities that had never occurred to him before. "I don't understand any of this. You'd better explain it to me in words of one syllable. But first, feed me. I'm starving."

Alex stood up, feeling the collar in his pocket. "Okay, pe - love. Let's go get in that shiny convertible of yours and - Jack's Chicken Shack?" He arched a brow.

There was a moment's pause, and then Dustin punched him on the shoulder, grinning.

"Fuck off!"

"Yeah? Hmm... We could do that when we get back..." Alex said, grinning an evil grin right back.

Alex kissed Dustin lightly on the cheek, and grabbed his leather jacket. He looked at Dustin with a mischievous twinkle and headed for the car, getting into the driver's seat.

"Hey, you're in my place." Dustin shook his head at Alex. "Come on, man. That's my car."

Alex smiled. "Flip a coin for it?"

Fumbling in his pocket for loose change, Dustin felt himself tense up. He hoped that Alex wasn't going to take over everything in his life the way that Minnow had. He produced a quarter, and held it out. "Call," he said.

"Heads."

The coin span in the air, and dropped, a silver tinkle on the sidewalk. As Dustin and Alex leaned to read the way it had fallen, their heads collided with a sharp sound. Dustin saw stars.

Alex caught Dustin in his arms. "Ouch," he said. "Are you okay? It's okay. Here, let me help you." Alex got up and moved to help Dustin into the driver's seat. "If you can still drive," he chuckled. "I was just playing with you." In his heart he knew he wasn't, however. Something inside demanded he dominate, impose his will on this man.

There was a pause, and Dustin sighed with relief. Whatever Alex was, he wasn't like Minnow. Dustin didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad. He turned to study the man sitting beside him, really looking at him for perhaps the first time. After a minute, he raised a hand to touch his cheek. "Who are you, Alex? What are you doing here, with me?"

Alex smiled, and took Dustin's hand. "I'm... I'm a pawn - or, no, a reluctant knight in a real world game of Risk." He grinned, and laughed. Then his face and tone grew dark. "I'm your wildest dream, and your worst nightmare. I'm what you fear you will become but hunger for, as a man lost in a desert hungers for water. Always one step ahead, just out of reach..." Alex wondered which of them he was describing, though.

Dustin smiled at that. "My worst nightmare, huh? And all this time, I thought it was Stallone. I'm hungering for a steak at the moment." His face sobered then. He didn't want to sound callous. Alex seemed at least as tormented as he did.

"You scare me, Alex," he said, frankly.

Alex smiled back. "I scare a lot of people. Even myself." He shivered a little, and got into the passenger's side of Dustin's Jaguar. He zipped his jacket against the sudden chill the night had developed.

As Dustin let out the clutch, he wondered just what he was letting himself in for with this man who looked so much like he did, but who was so much colder and more tempered. The short drive to the deli on Sunset was performed in silence, each man busy with his own thoughts.

When Dustin parked the car, Alex looked over at him. He wondered about this more innocent version of himself, who yet had the same cunning and ruthlessness. The same focus on power.

As they entered the restaurant, Dustin was busy shooting covert glances at his companion. He felt nervous, edgy, unsure what he would be required to do for this man who he'd already seen had such a dark side. His belly gave a rumble that was plainly audible in the quiet of the bar. "I guess we have to eat soon, Alex," he grinned.

Alex looked at Dustin. "Ooh, he has a lean and hungry look... I'll feed you as soon as I can, luv." Soon enough a waitress seated them at a table and asked what they wanted. Alex looked at her. "Steak, bloody as hell. Still breathing." He looked at Dustin.

"Yeah, wipe its ass, drive it in here, and I'll show you the piece I want you to cut out," grinned Dustin, almost succumbing to a fit of the giggles as he met Alex's eyes. He felt light headed, as though something very different was going to happen... hell, it already had, hadn't it?

Alex laughed at Dustin's efforts to stay serious. He looked at the waitress. "Yeah, yeah. Just bring it on over." The waitress grinned and said, "Two steak dinners, bloody as hell." She sighed and went to give the order to the kitchen. Alex grinned at Dustin. "We're alike in yet another way."

When the food finally arrived, Dustin fell upon it, tearing into the steak as though he hadn't eaten for days. From the corner of his eye, he could see Alex's white teeth flash as he did likewise. By the time he'd finished his meal, and drunk his half of a bottle of Beaujolais, he was feeling wonderful.

"Ah, that was great," Alex smiled as he finished his last bite. "Nothing like a little tender, raw flesh..." His lips pulled back slightly and he looked predatory again for a moment. Just as quickly, it was gone. He took a drink and looked into Dustin's eyes. "So," he said.

Dustin leaned back, sighing with sybaritic content. "Now what?" he replied. I'm feeling wonderful. Wanna take in a club, or what?"

Alex wondered where Dustin's head was. What he was thinking. "You ever go to... bondage clubs, Dustin?"

"Bondage clubs? I never..." Dustin looked at Alex mistrustfully. "You mean where they tie people up and hit them with whips? Why would I want to go to a place like that?" He giggled, but his laughter sounded strained.

Alex smiled. "Why, so you can be freed," Alex said. "You might be surprised at who hangs out at some of those places." He felt himself getting hard, imagining taking Dustin to such a club. He belonged to several private groups, but he would start out in the "mainstream." Bondage light as he thought of it.

"I might be surprised at me hanging out there," Dustin responded. "You keep on saying that, about being free. I don't understand."

Alex smiled. "It's... sometimes difficult for a beginner to grasp. How can I say... when you give yourself to someone... then you have no more worries and troubles? It's out of your control, so you have no responsibility, or blame."

The thought sent a shiver through Dustin's frame. "Have you ever done that? Given yourself to someone like that?"

Krycek looked away. "I..." His eyes turned hard. "I sold my soul long ago. I used to be so like you... yes, I have."

Dustin's eyes flew to Alex's face at that. "Who? How did you? Why...?" As the questions bubbled up, he could feel himself becoming hard inside his fine, silk pants. The thought of surrender was somehow right, and he wanted to hear about it from the mouth of this other self. He leaned forward.

He cast his mind back to what seemed a lifetime ago. He had known nothing then; only the desire for power, and the need to have it all.

"It was a man I met in Russia," he said at length. "I had... messed up, and been thrown into a gulag. I had a cellmate, a former great politician who had information on a subversive group that both the prison guards and the old folks at home wanted to know. They knew he had certain... proclivities. At first I was only using him. But, gradually... the lines became blurred."

He looked away, biting his lip at the memory of the man's eventual fate. "But with me it wasn't always sex, Dustin. Sometimes it was my soul..."

"You... you're a spy? Dustin had heard only a little of the other man's soul-baring confession. He shook his head, unable to shake the images of Alex, on his hands and knees, giving in to who-knew-what vices to please a faceless lover who towered over him. Something inside Dustin wanted to follow on - to learn as Alex had done.

Alex sipped his wine. "You know better than to ask me that, Dustin." But he nodded almost imperceptibly as he said it. He closed his eyes, remembering being made to suck Sergei's cock as the man told him the secrets of his group. Of being whipped. And tied up. Was he doing right?

He met Dustin's eyes.

Dustin shrugged. What Krycek was didn't somehow seem as important as what he could teach him. He hung his head as he groped for the proper... the only thing to say. At last the words came to him. He lifted his head, his eyes glowing with the rightness, the exactness of what he was expressing.

"Teach me, please."

Alex gasped. Had Dustin just... could it be this easy? He gazed hard into Dustin's eyes, taking the leather collar from his jacket pocket. "Are you sure this is what you want? Do you promise to obey me and trust me?"

A cold sweat broke over Dustin. Is that what he wanted? He licked suddenly dry lips. Yes. It was. Slowly, he lowered his head until he was bowed before Alex like a martyr. "I trust you. I believe that you are all I'll ever need."

Krycek smiled, and brought out the collar. He slowly put it around Dustin's bent neck, fastening the buckle. He lifted Dustin's head and stroked his face. "Do you know how pleased I am to hear that... pet?"

The thrill that went though Dustin's stomach at those words was beyond description. He knew that he had taken an irrevocable step. He raised his eyes to look at Alex, and his body tingled. "I... I wanted to please you."

"You did, Dustin... you really did."

2: Future Perfect

As they stood up, Alex took Dustin's hand. He kissed his ear, taking it into his mouth and nipping at it lightly. The restaurant was dimly lit, but Dustin still felt far too exposed as Alex caressed him for all to see. He murmured a soft protest as Alex slid his arms around him.

"I've got a treat for you, baby boy." Alex cupped Dustin's ass in his hands, squeezing. "Charmin' soft..." Dustin shivered as he felt Alex claim him for all to see. He couldn't back away. Alex owned him now. He'd agreed to that, and somehow it felt right, perfect to be groped in front of the diners. Flushed, he turned his face, allowing Alex to scorch his mouth with kisses.

Alex took the collar between his teeth, tugging possessively. "I'm gonna take you to a club... don't worry. For now it'll just be to watch..."

He slipped his arms around Dustin's waist. "Come on, baby, let's go..."

When they got into the car, Krycek looked at him. He wondered how Dustin would take this one... but it was necessary. He took out a leather leash and showed it to Dustin.

"Will you wear this, at the club? Best that you do..."

"Do you trust me?"

He knew that without the leash, other men at the club would feel free to come on to Dustin - to try to take him as their slave. But some things had to be learned...

Dustin stared at the strip of leather and metal that Alex was holding. This was moving rather faster than he had thought it would. It had felt so good to hang his head and give himself over into the handshand of this capable man, but he was damned if he was going to appear in public wearing a leash. He reared back, defiance in his eyes.

"The hell I will. What do you think I am?" Dustin suddenly had a look of absolute fury. The man surely didn't seriously expect him to wear a leash? Damn!

Alex smiled, a smile that had brittle, glittering edges to it. He knew what was in store for his honey, and in a way he was looking forward to it. It would be a lesson in trust, with consequences that would stay with Dustin forever. He leaned forward to capture Dustin's mouth, smiled against it, and then devoured it, sucking on his tongue and moaning his pleasure.

As he put the car in gear, he grinned at Dustin, his smile still hard and bright. Dustin smiled in return, feeling a little relieved. He had thought that there would be an argument, and there had not been. It had been childishly simple to defy Alex. He settled back in his seat and began to anticipate a night out in a club as though it were something mundane.

During the drive, Alex looked over at Dustin occasionally with that same smile, thinking about the leash in his pocket. As the club's valet dealt with their car, he walked over to Dustin and pulled him hard against the wall, kissing him fiercely. He tasted spicy and musky and warm. Krycek pulled him close, nipping at his neck. "Mine," he said, nipping hard enough to mark him. "All mine..."

He took Dustin's hand and led him into the club, slowly.

The club was dark and smoky. Techno-ambient music came from out of nowhere, and the Tyndall effect from the red flashing strobes was gauzy. Alex pulled Dustin along, past leather boys and gimps clad in thin straps, past their tops, who were whipping them. There was a row of submissives waiting to be picked up by a master, and masters looking for subs.

One of them walked over to Dustin and Alex. Alex snarled.

Dustin's head whipped around at the sound. Alex was glowering at the newcomer. Dustin didn't know the man who had approached, but he smiled nervously as the man - a huge figure in leather pants and a harness - strolled around him.

"Very nice. Very nice indeed, though hardly humble enough." The bass voice rumbled across Dustin's senses, jarring them. Alex coughed, histrionically, and when he spoke, his voice was cold and silky with menace.

"Excuse me? You're questioning me about my pet? I didn't give you leave."

The man mountain grinned at Alex, and snaked a huge arm around Dustin's waist, pulling him in to his side whether Dustin liked it or not.

"Hah! A matched pair. I like that idea. I like it a lot. I'd make you cower for me. You'd wear mirrored stripes across your back and walk behind me for all to admire." He cupped Dustin's crotch, feeling the package within crudely. Dustin shrank away, but couldn't fight the strength of the man who had him captive. He made a small sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

"You have something of mine." Alex's soft voice seemed to fill Dustin's head. The other man laughed again, throwing back his head with a roar that grated on Dustin's nerves and made him tremble. This big ox was scaring him. He didn't see Alex move, but suddenly there was a knife protruding from his assailant's bare shoulder, and a bloody rose blossomed around it. Dustin heard a curse and the arm around him slackened, permitting him to move away. Alex had stepped in towards them, and the look on his face was terrifying. He held another knife to the big man's throat, and his smile returned as he made his demands.

"Neither of us is negotiable at the moment. Thank you for your kind offer." He spat the last words out, and wrenched his knife free, wiped it on the other man's pants, and made it vanish into his clothing. Then he turned to Dustin.

He slipped his arms around Dustin's waist and took his ear in his teeth, none too lightly.

"Ya tebya lyublyu, moi Dustina."

When he'd seen the other man touch his pet, Alex had wanted to go off. He had wanted to paint the walls of the club red with the man's blood, and defy anyone to touch Dustin again. His heart rate was slowly returning to normal, as his anger faded... and... changed.

He hissed into Dustin's ear. "That wouldn't have happened if you'd been wearing the leash. Now, we must show them you are mine... and you must show me you still honor me."

He turned, gazing at Dustin darkly. "You will get on your knees, here, and suck me off. You will swallow my come, and enjoy it."

He gazed around at the group of doms who had gathered to challenge him if he couldn't control Dustin.

"Do it. Now. On your knees."

He pushed down on Dustin's shoulders, thrusting his hips at him.

Seeing Dustin's reluctance, he growled, "Or would you rather I let them have their way with you?"

One of the men smiled lewdly at this.

Alex growled again. No one would touch Dustin and get away with it...

Dustin swallowed nervously. There was blood on his arm from the leather-clad mountain that had tried to manhandle him. Alex had stabbed him without so much as a second thought. Dustin felt a thrill go through him. Alex had done it for him. Nobody had ever fought for him before. He raised his eyes to Alex's, reading a dark message of warning in them.

Suck him off? Alex wanted him to go down on him right here and now, with all of these men watching? He looked around at them. Predators all, they devoured him with hot glances. He quailed, eyes flying to Alex for support and finding only a cold, measuring stare.

He moved to speak, and heard snickers from the group that had gathered around them. Despairingly he slid down Alex's warm, somehow comforting body until he reached his knees. He could feel the hard length of Alex's dick behind the rough denim of his jeans, and he felt himself begin to grow hard too at the thought of taking it into his mouth in front of all these men.

He popped the button of Alex's jeans, and took hold of the zipper with his teeth, sliding it down in a parody of the way Darcy had once done. Alex's cock pushed forward, tenting the soft cotton of his briefs, and Dustin mouthed it, hearing the murmur of the audience around him as if he were in a dream. He pushed down on Alex's clothes and at last his cock was revealed, dusky and shining with pre-come. He could do this. His own cock was twitching with excitement as he opened his lips and took Alex deep.

Alex gasped as Dustin opened his fly and mouthed him. He gazed at the other men who watched intently as Dustin jerked his briefs down, feeling his lust grow under their gaze. It was so hot...

He wrapped an arm around Dustin's neck, gazing down darkly as the producer took him into his mouth. So warm and slick... he couldn't believe it. Dustin had followed his command, without much hesitation. He'd hesitated a moment, sure, but that was one thing he liked in the man... his willfulness, his spite. A bitter edge that was all too familiar.

Suddenly his capacity for rational thought was shot to hell as Dustin took him all the way, that velvet mouth wrapping his cock in its cocoon, warm and soft as heaven. "Oh..." He tossed his head back, gazing at the ceiling as Dustin sucked him, knowing it wouldn't be long.

He rolled his head to one side, and saw a man leering at them with a transfixed intensity. Alex smiled.

"Is he very obedient?" the man asked.

"He's new," Alex husked. "I'm just starting him out." He smiled a bit archly, wondering how his new love would feel about that.

As the man continued to stare, Alex wrapped his arm more tightly around Dustin, drawing him closer. He didn't want to share.

His balls were drawing up tight as he twitched in Dustin's mouth. He smiled down at Dustin as he leaked a little precome into his lover's mouth. "Remember to drink it, baby," he growled, gazing into Dustin's green eyes lustily - those eyes that were so like his own. He is so like me, Alex thought with a sick feeling of satisfaction. What am I doing?

He decided it was best not to question it. At least not now, when Dustin had him like this... to the hilt in his mouth.

"Oh... oh... OH!" Alex groaned as he began thrusting into Dustin's mouth, using his arm around his neck as leverage. "So fucking good..." The thrusts were hard, jerked, and pretty much involuntary... the man was that good, and the venue... well, the venue certainly didn't hurt.

Dustin sucked, concentrating on getting the job done. He wanted Alex to come. He wanted to get this over with just as soon as he possibly could. He felt mortified. His jaw ached and he couldn't breathe, but Alex Alex had stabbed someone to keep him safe, and he felt a sudden twitching thrill go through him as he recalled that.

Nobody had ever cared like that for him before.

Alex suddenly stiffened and pulled his cock out of Dustin's mouth. The sudden yelp, and the gush of viscous fluid took him by surprise, and then he shivered as Alex's come dripped down his face. Alex took hold of his hair, pulling his head back to show everyone his shame.

"Go on, boy, lick your face clean. Show us you love it." Alex's voice was still low, but the command was unmistakable, and Dustin put out his tongue, lapping at the traces on his lips and chin. When Alex yanked him up to hold him close and kiss him, he was trembling, ready to give Alex anything if only he would take him home.

Alex invaded his mouth, tongue probing. For the first time that night, Dustin felt safe, nestling there in the arms of the assassin who had appointed himself his protector.

When Alex finally released him and clipped on the leash that had started all the trouble, Dustin shivered once more. He wondered if he'd ever be able to go out in public again. Shrinking against Alex, he eyed the crowd of men who were gradually moving away in search of other diversions. Alex arched an eyebrow at him with a jaunty smile, and Dustin quivered.

"Are we going home now?" he asked, hopefully.

"Home?" Alex laughed. "The hell we are. I wanna dance. Come on. Come and dance with me." Tugging Dustin behind him, he moved off towards the dance floor.

Alex turned when they reached the floor, in the middle of the dancing throng. The music pounded in his ears as he put an arm around Dustin, pulling him in towards his body. He noticed the fear in his love's eyes, and he wanted to take it all away. He leaned in.

"I know you like to dance, love. Come on." He kissed Dustin's neck. "You did well, love. Do you know how hot that was? Good boy..."

At first, Dustin was stiff in Alex's arms. He was afraid, as Alex had known that he would be. Alex slid warm arms around him as the music began to play, slow and sultry, as though the DJ had realized they were new lovers. Then Alex started to move against the trembling body of his love, swaying and grinding against Dustin as he danced, and after a minute or two, Dustin finally relaxed against him, joining him in the movements of the dance.

Alex took Dustin in closer, rubbing his shoulders and back. "Tell me, babe. Tell me what it is you're looking for." He knew, but he wanted to hear it. The song was familiar, and he hummed gently into Dustin's neck as he breathed in his scent. "Mmm, sweetie... what do you need? I can give it to you. I promise. What are you afraid of, Dustin?"

He didn't respond immediately. He merely laid his head on Alex's shoulder, sighing heavily with the air of someone who had relaxed at last. He moved his hips in a little closer to Alex as he swayed with the dance.

Alex lowered his hands to the small of Dustin's back. He nipped his neck lightly as he kneaded Dustin's back, feeling the muscles relax. He licked Dustin's neck, feeling the pulse throbbing there. Someone else's life in his hands. Almost like a new beginning. Could he get it right this time around? He slipped an arm around Dustin's waist fully, pulling him tight against him. He ground his hips back into Dustin, feeling the life force of another time... another way. He nipped Dustin, sharply, and smiled ferally. "Baby..."

For a long while, it was as if Dustin hadn't heard. When finally he did raise his head to look at Alex, it was almost as if he were drugged; his eyes were huge, black wells into which one could fall forever. He smiled uncertainly.

"What do I want?" he mused. "You know, I'm not sure I know any more. Yesterday, I'd have told you that if Minnow died, everything would be fine and I'd be happy, but now I know that I was totally wrong. I don't know what I want, Alex. I don't think I've ever known. Help me find out." He looked at Alex with a tragic air that would have been funny if it hadn't been so close to Alex's own state of mind.

Alex smiled. "All right. I'll try, baby. Tell me, why did you think everything would be okay if Minnow died? No, tell me why that changed. What - why it doesn't - you know?" Dustin's eyes were open wide, and Alex's mirrored them as he returned the look, open, and receptive. He felt his answers were Dustin's... he knew it. "Do you remember?"

Dustin frowned.

"You see, it just keeps on getting worse. I was stupid to think that anything good would come out of his death. I'm evil. I deserve to be punished. That's who you are, isn't it, Alex? You've been sent to make me suffer for my sin." He clung to Alex as he spoke, his heated body pressed against his assassin lover.

Alex laughed darkly. "Sent? Hmm. Interesting way of looking at it... wasn't it you who called me, my boy? As for evil, we've all got a dark side. Some of us just spend more time there." He bit his lower lip. He wondered whether he was there more by choice than necessity and, in the end, what would be the implications of each. "Punish you, Dustin? Punish you for what you did? What's one more person against all those I've killed?" He felt a sliver of the guilt that had increasingly pained him knife through his conscience.

"Suffering is a state of mind... you weren't happy before, Dustin. We both know that." He rubbed Dustin's back, resting his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes. "Sometimes we're our own judge and jury. You feel you have sinned?" He opened his eyes and gazed into those of his lover.

Dustin laid his head down on Alex's shoulder once more. His lips were very close to Alex's ear and his breath tickled the fine hairs in Alex's ear.

"I need you to punish me. I deserve it. I need to hurt, but I need you to love me too." He sighed against the warmth of Alex's neck, and ground his hips against him, feeling Alex tighten his arms around him with a certain satisfaction. "Love me?" he whispered.

"I love you," Alex replied. "And you'll get what you deserve, and more." He pushed his hard cock against Dustin, and smiled. "Oh, you'll get it."

Slipping hands around the other's waist, Alex pulled Dustin to him. "Pet, you were punished enough. I know you won't let it happen again." Gazing into eyes so like his own, he realized how vulnerable Dustin was. A man who tried so hard to stay on top... for all his power, he still needed... love. "You don't need to suffer... yet." Alex didn't want to see Dustin hurt now. He needed to be built back up. Then, Alex could break him.

Dustin broke away from him abruptly, sinking to his knees there on the dance floor to throw his arms around Alex's thighs. He nuzzled in against his groin although he knew that Alex was unlikely to become aroused so soon. He raised his head until he could make eye contact with Alex.

"Can we go home? Please?" He said no more, merely crouching there as he waited for his master to give him the permission he craved. It occurred to him that he was happy at last. He was no longer subject to the stresses he feared. Alex would care for him, and that was enough.

Staring at his pet on his knees before him, Alex stepped back involuntarily. He didn't know what he expected but it wasn't that. Immediate submission and total supplication? Dustin was worse off than he thought! He gazed into Dustin's eyes. Pain, fear confusion... perversely, he felt himself getting hard.

Fighting the strong urge to grab the leash and jerk Dustin to his feet, he reached down with one hand and caressed his cheek instead. "All right, pet. We can go home. I thought you would enjoy a dance..."

He tugged softly on the leash. He wanted to ... no, don't think that way, he told himself. "Come on, Dustin. Get up. We'll go home."

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Dustin rose to his feet to follow. The day had been too much for him. He'd begun it as an executive in charge of a movie studio, and of his own fate. As the clock ticked away the final seconds of the day, he was attempting to determine his current place. It was as though he had fallen into a pool, and the water had closed over his head leaving no trace that he had been there above the surface.

"Alex?" His voice was tentative, and at first he didn't think that his master had heard him. "Alex?" he called again. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

Alex blinked. What had happened to the capable, hard, take-charge man he had met that morning? Had he already pushed too hard, too fast? Had he already hurt his pet, though he'd tried so hard not to? He blinked again, rapidly, thinking he had heard Dustin say something.

"Forgive you for what?" Alex said. He felt blindsided, and he'd lost his equilibrium. He knew he had to get a hold of himself.

He took the leash, and jerked it, hard. "Come on," he growled. "Come on."

As they reached the door and passed through it onto the sidewalk, Dustin suddenly felt nauseous. His stomach lurched, and he groaned. The sidewalk was filthy, litter was strewn on the cracked cement and there were couples half seen in the darkness. Moist sounds were emanating from the narrow alley alongside the doorway, and suddenly, Dustin felt his head swim.

"Stop, please stop." He fell to his knees again, unable to go any further, and the contents of his stomach surged as he vomited into the gutter.

Alex stopped, staring at Dustin as he vomited. The sight of the producer puking in the filthy gutter turned him on and he felt his control slipping away. He jerked on the leash. And then a smile touched the corners of his lips. "Lick it, boy," he heard himself say. "Lick it so they can see you.""

"Jesus, no!" Dustin's head was swimming. "I can't. Don't" He began to scramble to his feet. The smell of marijuana was thick in the air, and he swayed towards Alex, his hand outstretched in a silent plea for mercy. "I feel so sick. Need to go home"

Alex looked at Dustin, swallowing. Had he really just asked his pet to eat that? Now *he* felt sick. Automatically, Alex took Dustin in his arms and held him close. He wanted to say he was sorry, but the words wouldn't come. Instead he squeezed Dustin gently. He looked around for the valet. Seeing him, he waved him down. The young man nodded, and went to bring the car around. Alex tipped him, and moved to help Dustin into the passenger's seat. Trying for levity, he said, "Don't even try to tell me you can drive, pet."

He felt as though he were in a nightmare. His head reeled and he clung to Alex for a moment, grimly determined to stay on his feet.

"Sorry, Alex. Feel so sick. Silly of me." He made a determined effort and stood on his own as the car was brought to them. "I don't usually get this way." Shakily, he climbed into the passenger's seat and sat, waiting for Alex. "You're right. I'd better not drive right now."

Alex nodded. "I know, pet. Always in control, right? I'll take care of you, love." Kissing Dustin quickly, he moved to the driver's seat and sat down. Shutting the door, he looked over at Dustin. "I'll take you home, love. You'll be okay. Do you have Tylenol at home?" He began to drive that way.

He closed his eyes as Alex threw the car into gear. Normally he'd have been twitching at the thought of his beloved car being driven by someone other than himself, but tonight he was grateful for the competence of his saturnine companion. By the time they pulled up outside his house, he was beginning to feel better. Entering the cool living room he felt himself relax a little.

"I need to go and brush my teeth." He began to move toward the bathroom.

Alex took off his leather jacket. "Sure. Of Course." He set his jacket on the couch. "Take some Tylenol, too, okay?"

God, he wanted a drink, but it was the last thing Dustin needed. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He grabbed a beer and sat with it at the kitchen table. For a long moment he didn't open it... just sat and stared into space. What was he doing? And why? He stood up and began to pace. This time, he said to himself, I'll do it right. This time I'll escape... escape him. At that thought, a wave of anger crashed and broke over him. He opened his beer and drank it as quickly as he could. That was a memory he'd rather not have. I can escape... I can be better... His thoughts turned to Dustin... I can help him. When Dustin returned to the living room he couldn't see Alex. For a moment he felt panic. Was he alone again? He called out, and was rewarded by Alex's husky response from his kitchen. Dustin moved through to find his new lover.

"You're in the dark. Did you want me to put on the light?" There was no immediate answer. Dustin retrieved a carton of juice from the fridge and chugged it from the box, and then flopped into a seat.

"I'm starting to feel better now. Sorry about that." He peered through the gloom, trying to tell what Alex's mood might be.

Alex looked at Dustin. His eyes were well accustomed to the darkness. "No. Leave it off." He sighed, and got another beer from the fridge - then put it back. He walked over to Dustin. "What are you sorry for?" I'm the one who should be sorry, he thought to himself.

Dustin was confused. His forehead furrowed and he looked at Alex in blank amazement.

"You wanted I thought that you wanted to dance. I kinda blew it. I haven't been out partying since the night it all began. All of a sudden I could see her lying there and I guess I lost it." Dustin stared at the floor, beginning to feel uncomfortable. Everything had changed. Down was up, and up seemed to be sideways now. He didn't know if he could handle it any more.

He rose to his feet and moved to the living room.

"You wanna dance? I've got some great music." In another minute, the sound of the Chemical Brothers drove out from the stereo.

Alex smiled, and then stopped. Following Dustin, he put his arms around him.

"We're dancing Dustin... but to the same tune?" He used a finger to turn Dustin's face to his. "Forget her, babe. What's done is done. You have to... you have to..." Have to find redemption? Instead of finishing his sentence, he swooped in to Dustin's mouth, devouring it with his own, holding Dustin close. He didn't want to think anymore.

The music throbbed through Dustin, and he sighed with contentment as he went gladly into Alex's arms. This was what he needed. This was proof that he could let go and just be. Opening his mouth to receive Alex's kiss, he felt the thrill of submission flow within him. As Alex worked his mouth, Dustin twined his tongue around him, teasing, accepting, begging for more.

Alex cupped his hand behind Dustin's ear, deepening the kiss. He tasted of toothpaste, smelled of it, and a musky smell behind it. Alex wanted nothing more than to hold on to the kiss forever. He felt he was kissing away the real world and entering one in which all that mattered was himself and Dustin. "Mine," he said again. "All mine..."

"If I'm yours?" Dustin peeped at him from beneath his lashes, trying to gauge just how much leeway this frightening man would give him. "If I belong to you, then it follows that you belong to me too. That's tidy." He relaxed at last, giving himself over to the music, the warm hands that moved over the planes of his body, and the knowledge that he had a place in which to belong. He need never be alone again.

The words rang in Alex's ears. "... Then it follows that you belong to me, too. Ah, if only it were that simple! It sounded right, and more, felt right. Just not at this point in the time/space continuum... He stepped back. How to explain? Of course it follows... but logic doesn't... No, he ... it was too soon. He looked at Dustin, stepping close and holding him tightly again. "Do you know how long I've been watching and wanting you, little cub?" Using a finger he forced Dustin's gaze to meet his own with hypnotic intent. "Thinking about this night..."

Dustin shivered. Alex was holding him with his eyes, not allowing him to look away. He frowned.

"How long? How come you knew about me? I don't understand." His voice hitched a little as he tried to make sense of what Alex had said. "I thought that you were new to LA."

Dustin had suddenly become still, and as Alex continued to hold his gaze, he allowed his hands to fall and stood waiting for his master to explain.

"I'm relatively new... brand new... but not everyone is. Where have you seen me before, my pet, hmm? You think Mackey is only a studio exec, President? How do you think he got there, hmm?"

Dustin was baffled.

"Mackey? I don't understand." Memories, at the time barely noted, of meetings at Mackey's place began to float to the surface of his mind. "I never saw you before yesterday.

It suddenly made sense in a bizarre kind of way. Mackey had known a man When he had wanted to find someone to perform a shady task, Mackey had been the one who had known whom to contact.

"When you go to work tomorrow," Alex said softly, "you ask Mackey about the Syndicate. Ask him about it and let your voice demand an answer. Let him know you won't take a vague response." He pressed Dustin against the wall, and unbuttoned his shirt. "Ask him..." He took one of Dustin's nipples into his mouth, nipping at it lightly.

Dustin arched his back, gasping at the sudden assault on his senses. Alex was somehow keeping him off balance, and he felt as though he were wading through a pool of molasses. He leaned back, sluttishly permitting Alex to graze over his body, merely enjoying the sensations that the other's mouth evoked as he moved.

Alex took Dustin's other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it. "Pain can be so exquisite, Dustin... have you ever felt pain so beautiful that you want it? That you crave it? Keeps you coming back for more?" Dustin's nipples were tough and raised now, and Alex bit down, hard, with a slight smile.

The pain shot through him, a tingle that made his cock jump and twitch. Dustin squealed. Alex was smoothing the shirt over his shoulders, to fall from them. Dustin was about to begin unfastening the buttons from his wrists when Alex reached behind him, twisting the shirt until it effectively bound his hands together behind his back. As Dustin moved, uncertain of his feelings about this development, Alex bit him again, harder this time, and the pain lanced through him until he was more aroused than he could remember being in years.

"Like that, pet?" Alex teased, grinding his own erection into Dustin's groin. "That good for you?" He twisted Dustin's shirt tighter around his arms, then abruptly spun him from the wall and pushed him towards the bedroom. "Lead me, pet. Show me you want it... show me you want me."

Stumbling towards the bedroom, Dustin was all tingling nerve endings and anticipation. He was afraid; he was exhilarated, and totally out of control. His body craved release in a manner that he'd never known. Alex followed behind him, a saturnine presence, capable of who knew what?

His bed was suddenly a frightening place. What would happen to him there? Sinking to his knees as Alex twisted his shirt up, he looked at his tormentor in mute appeal.

"Please" he murmured, voice husky as he took in Alex's predatory expression. Unable to move his hands, he leaned forward and stroked his tongue along the crotch of Alex's jeans. "Please"

"Please, what?" Alex smirked. "What does my pet want, hmm?"

He put his hand on Dustin's shoulder, and with his other slowly unzipped his fly.

"Thirsty, pet?"

"Need you" Dustin's eyes dropped to the bulge that lurked within the black denim of Alex's jeans. He shivered. "Not thirsty. Hungry."

Helpless, he tried to indicate his own erection, straining through the thin, summer weight pants that he wore.

"Hard, I'm so hard."

Alex smiled. "I'm thirsty. And oh so hungry." He knew he was top, but did all tops have to be all the time? He suddenly wanted Dustin to fuck him, as much as he wanted to fuck Dustin. But he couldn't have that... not yet. The request would blow Dustin's mind, and, well... there were other things that needed to be blown. He could hurt him so easily... part of him wanted to. Visit Mackey later, he told himself. He'll give it to you.

"What can we do about that, pet, hmm? Come on. Tell me what you need in words of one syllable. I want to hear it... tell me."

This was moving so fast; he felt a jolt of terror pass through him. Why couldn't Alex just take him? Force himself onto Dustin the way he had earlier. He shouldn't have to ask for his own corruption to take place. He wanted it so badly, but he didn't want to ask. He stared at Alex, his heart in his mouth.

"Please don't make me Can't you just do it?"

"Say it." Alex made as if to step away, and ignore his pet. "You must not want it very badly."

"No!" Dustin's voice was strained, desperate. "Please don't go. I need you to stay with me. I need you to suck me like you did this afternoon. Please"

Alex glanced at Dustin. "What's that, pet? You want it?" He sank to his knees in front of Dustin on the floor. "Let's go to bed. Come on, this isn't comfortable." He had wanted Dustin to beg, to yelp his need immediately. He needed to remember he had just started with him. He wasn't trained yet. He stood up, jerking Dustin up by his shirt. "Come on, boy. Take me to bed."

Still hampered by the shirt that was twisted around his wrists, Dustin stumbled to his feet and toed off his shoes, then stood, confused. There was no way he could get his trousers off unless Alex released him. He leant forward and took Alex's buttons in his teeth, tearing at them until the shirt came unfastened, and then dragging it off the man's shoulders. Finally, he stood, looking for approval.

Alex gasped as Dustin unbuttoned his shirt. Coming from him, it was so hot. He gasped as he felt Dustin's lips on his chest. Closing his eyes, he sucked in breath, sharply. When Dustin stood, he nodded.

"I see the problem, pet." He released Dustin's shirt, peeling it off. He took Dustin's hand, placing it over his open crotch. "That was so good, baby... so good." He patted Dustin through his jeans. "Let's go take care of this now... " Still holding Dustin's hand, he jerked his head in the direction of the bed. "Come on. Want to taste you... feel you on me."

Gratefully, Dustin slipped out of his pants, and stood, still clad in his silk boxers, waiting for Alex to touch, to teach, to love him. He felt strange. This was definitely a situation that he, Dustin could control. The collar around his neck burned within his mind, a symbol of his submission to another, and he trembled, wanting Alex to make his move and erase his anxiety.

Alex pushed Dustin back onto the bed. He leaned over him, and then climbed on top of him, as he had before. It was different when Dustin wanted him, so hard. He mouthed him through the silk boxers, and then used his teeth to take them down. God, Dustin was hard... a little precome making the tip gleam. He licked it off the crown, and then took Dustin's cock into his mouth, running his tongue along it, relishing the feel of the corded veins up and down the shaft.

The world suddenly narrowed, became a slick, hot torment that teased him, stirring impossible sensations in him, without quite permitting him to reach the climax for which he was so desperate. Dustin spread his legs apart and gave himself utterly to the man who crouched above him, who seemingly knew each little pleasure point, and who was touching him so intimately. When Alex sank sharp white teeth into the flesh of his inner thigh, Dustin yelped, almost screamed, and his cock pulsed, so close, so very close.

"Please" he gasped again, needing Alex to take pity on him and let him come.

Alex laughed huskily, blowing puffs of air on Dustin's thigh. He bit again, the other side this time. He felt Dustin tense as he took Dustin's sac into his mouth, threatening with gentle pressure to bite them, too. "Patience, little cub." He took Dustin's cock back into his mouth, then, teasingly, ran a finger around the rim of his asshole. He would make him beg for that, too.

Dustin was afraid, and he didn't know whether he was more terrified of what Alex was going to do, or of the possibility that he wouldn't do it. Deep inside, he watched his own behavior with horror. He'd never acted like this before.

When Alex's mouth descended onto his cock, he felt the spasm flash through him, raising exquisite flickers of feeling as Alex worked him expertly. He wasn't at first aware of the finger at his asshole, but as Alex applied more pressure, he suddenly recalled the events earlier in the day. That flash of almost unbearable pleasure which had shaken him. He spread his legs wider, raising his hips in mute appeal. Alex had to do that again. He had to.

As Alex withdrew his finger, Dustin whimpered.

Alex paused. "You want it, you know what you gotta do."

He knew. He knew, and a secret part of him reveled in his degradation as he heard his own voice betraying him.

"Inside me, Alex, please. Touch me. Make me feel it. I need you to touch me." He groped with trembling hands, trying to reach for Alex's fingers, needing them inside, wanting to feel the way he'd been made to feel earlier that day.

Alex grinned. "In your ass, Dustin? You want me to fuck your ass with my fingers? Oh, I think my pet wants it... I think he wants it bad." He put his finger inside, slowly - Dustin was impossibly tight - and corkscrewed it, feeling the nubbly texture as he penetrated him deeper.

"Oh, god!" Dustin groaned. He could no longer hold back. Alex was sucking him deep into his throat, and the finger that was pressed inside him was doing prickly, tingling, wonderful things to him. He could feel the pressure building inside him, and his balls seemed to tighten as Alex's mouth slid up and down on his dick, drawing him up and up until he could no longer hold back.

Alex thrust his finger deep inside Dustin, stroking his prostate. He nipped his thigh, and then went back to his cock, enjoying the twitches that signified imminent orgasm. Wanting release himself, he thrust his cock down at Dustin's mouth, hoping he'd take the hint.

Dustin cried out as he felt the tension inside him begin to spill out. For a long moment he hovered, bathed in sweet sensation, every muscle locked in spasm as uneasy lightning flickered through him. Alex's cock bobbed forgotten and neglected at his lips. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything except arch and buck as his balls emptied themselves into Alex's mouth.

When at last his body let go, and he could breathe again, he lay, a gasping, sated heap.

Alex licked up every drop of Dustin's come, feeling the shudders rock through his pet. He blinked when he had him drained, thinking ruefully, Guess I'll have to get mine elsewhere... not a problem. Mackey will be all too willing... Shoving his own need aside, he turned around and spooned up beside Dustin. "Good boy for the first day," he smiled. "Let's... let's sleep now, my sweet. I know you've got a long day tomorrow." As did Alex... He closed his eyes and sighed, wrapping his arm around Dustin, waiting for him to speak.

Alex's voice came to Dustin through thick layers of exhaustion. He felt impossibly heavy and sated. His body was still tingling with the after effects of his explosive orgasm.

"Thank you, Alex" Even as he spoke, he could feel a blanket of drowsiness floating down to envelop him. Alex's arm was around him, and he had never felt so secure in his life.

Warm and whole, Dustin slept.

Alex kissed Dustin's shoulder, and slowly so as not to wake his pet, got out of bed. He tucked the covers around him. God, he looked so perfect lying there... but Alex needed to be fulfilled.

Ah, hell, admit it, Alex - you know you can hurt Mackey and you like that. He walked out of the bedroom, thinking of Mackey under him, grunting as he fucked him long and hard and rough. He supposed he was a good sub if you liked them begging you for everything and doing what you said with no hesitation, Johnny on the spot. He reflected that most doms would want such a sub, but Alex had soon found that he grew contemptuous of such men. Those who gave themselves to him without question or hesitation: who knew he didn't love them and begged to be hurt, pleading... Oh, but he had loved them all at one time - even Mackey.

He walked through the house slowly, scooping Dustin's car keys off the kitchen table, reminding himself to park the car a block off from Mackey's house. Karl, he told himself. He preferred Karl. Pulling the Porsche up a little way down from Karl's place, he walked back to the house, his erection growing as he thought of taking the man and fucking him up against the nearest wall. God, he was easy.

He strolled around to the side of the house, knowing Mackey - Karl - left that door open. "Karl?" Peering through the house, he was startled to see the man sitting on his deck. The smell of the ocean stung his nostrils as he walked that way... the screen door was open. "Karl."

Karl Mackey sat on the deck at the back of his house, listening to the sound that the surf made as it kissed the sand below. He had just returned home from a party. His head ached, and he was beginning to think that he might be a little old for that kind of function. Meaningless revelry no longer interested him. He felt restless. His life was becoming pointless and he wasn't even certain why that might be.

When the low, sultry voice brushed at his ears, he felt his breath quicken. It had been a long time since he'd heard it, and his body craved the sound. In quality, that voice was almost the same as Dustin Yarma's, but there was no way that Dustin would ever achieve that husky purr. Alex seemed to breathe sexuality, and Karl had been his slave for far too long ever to be free of him.

Alex walked over to him slowly, coming up behind him, placing his hands on Karl's shoulders. "Been a long time... you miss me?"

Stay cool, Karl, he thought to himself. This bastard will gut you and walk away... again. Where's your dignity? Taking a deep breath Mackey turned slowly to face the designated bastard, and with a sinking inside his belly, felt himself grow hard.

"Alex?" he said, his eyes lowered. "I didn't know that you were in town."

"Well, obviously... I am. Had to make with the old spy work... you know how it is." Alex smiled, and idly took his hand. "Why, Karl... you look... positively awful!" He threw back his head and laughed . "I know, I know... can't neglect you for a second, can I, hmm?"

He pulled Karl up with one arm and held him against his chest, nuzzling his neck. "I'll help you with that... you look so lonely, baby."

Karl had never been able to resist Alex. The man always managed to get under his skin, and he craved what Alex had to give him almost to the point where he couldn't manage without it.

Almost, but not quite. Alex hadn't been around much lately, and Karl had managed to pull himself out of the downward spiral into which he'd fallen. He was just beginning to function again on his own behalf, so it seemed logical that Alex would suddenly reappear to undo the careful work he'd put into re-building his life.

Alex pulled Karl around, and then shoved him against the railing, facing the water. Grinding himself against the other man, Alex husked in his ear, "See that rock over there, Karl? The wave braking over it? How long has it been there, taking the punishment of the sea, giving only the slightest resistance? Virtually unchanged, it just... takes it."

Closing his eyes, Karl leaned back into Alex, fearing what he would do, but wanting it so badly that he would have killed if someone had tried to interrupt. His saliva had suddenly vanished and the words that he wanted to say lay thick and unspoken in his throat.

He stood perfectly still, awaiting Alex's next move, knowing that if he attempted to control it he would lose Alex, that he would withdraw. A faint whimper burst from his lips.

Alex pushed at Karl harder. "How easy it would be... you're such a fragile man, Karl." Instead, he pulled Karl's head back and kissed him deeply, running his hands under his jacket, holding him to himself tightly. Abruptly he pulled back. "What do you want, Karl? Tell me." He loved to hear his vi - pets tell him what they wanted, to beg for it.

Mackey looked at Alex from eyes that seemed bruised, as though they had seen too much.

"You know that I want you. I've kept myself for you, Alex. I want you to be with me. Fuck me." His voice was tense, strained as he spoke, and still he made no move, though inside his head a litany of "please, please, please" babbled ceaselessly.

Alex smirked predatorily. "Would you like me to take you here, over the railing? I doubt if that would be very comfortable."

"Whatever you need, Alex, wherever you want me." Mackey had his face schooled into the expressionless mask that Alex had taught him to wear, but inside, he longed for Alex to end the waiting. Soon, please God, soon.

Alex laughed harshly, looking into eyes of his slave.

"I want you in your bed," he said darkly. "All tied up and exposed, your pretty ass open to me as I fuck you mercilessly. Yeah. Go on now. Go on and get ready for me." Alex turned away, watching the surf. He knew Mackey would do as he'd asked.

Without a word, Karl turned to enter the house, and his stomach was leaping with the joy of what would soon come. Alex had come back to claim him. Alex owned him once more, and that would be enough for him. Stepping into the bathroom, he carefully hung up his clothes, and stood naked, revealing that apart from his goatee his entire body was clean-shaven. He took an enema from the cabinet, and cleansed himself ready, then took the lube from the shelf and went into the bedroom to apply it. After a minute or two more, he was prepared, and waiting. The anticipation was more difficult, and more arousing than it had ever been.

Alex followed a few moments later. His cock was stiff in his jeans. He got off on the power he held over this man... and, strangely, the contempt he felt. He took some rope from the living room and walked to the bedroom. He saw Karl on the bed, and rushed over, stroking his hands over the pale flesh of flanks, back, and ass.

"Good," he said. He took the rope and quickly bound Karl's wrists behind him, pushing him on to his face, running a finger along his crack. "Mmm.... this is what I want, Karl."

Mackey whimpered. What would it be this time? Would Alex make love to him, or would he merely fuck him and walk away? He craved the tender words that Alex so rarely tossed his way. The one thing that he did know was that Alex would humiliate him, and that he would permit it, because to do less would drive Alex from him. That he couldn't bear.

"Oh, he wants to be pet tonight, hmm? Well, too bad!" SLAP! Alex slapped Mackey's ass, hard enough to force his head into the pillow. "Don't want pet. Want it rough... like this." He climbed behind Karl, parting his ass with his hand, unbuttoning his jeans and driving his cock in deep and hard. "Tell me, boy. Tell me how you want it... how you crave this."

As Alex pierced him, filling him roughly, Mackey felt himself swell. Strange when the most brutal behavior made him happy. He concentrated on opening himself to Alex, feeling the rough slide of his cock as it stroked against him, building so swiftly towards orgasm that he felt out of control. His cock lay under him, pressed forgotten into the linen sheets, and as Alex slammed into him over and over, the rub of the sheets was enough to bring him up where he wanted - needed to be.

"Oh, fuck yes, Alex. There's no one like you. No one in the world. I need you so badly. Fuck me, Alex." He was close. He was almost there.

Alex abruptly pulled back. The humiliation and defilement of Karl gave him strange shivers. He centered himself again, and after a few moments drove himself back into Mackey, even harder than the first time. He felt his balls draw up tight, and he leaned forward, biting Karl's ear, cruelly.

"You're pathetic, boy. You know that?" He bit down on Karl's neck, then his shoulder, as he slammed in forcefully. "Fucking pathetic. Say it. Tell me you're my pathetic bitch who can't get enough." His cock twitched, and he felt the telling tautness in his belly.

Mackey was beyond words now. As Alex rammed his cock home he felt himself spasm, and melt as he came into the fine sheets of his bed.

"Alex," he croaked. "God, Alex, nobody but you" He felt Alex's movements become spasmodic, and knew that he was about to empty himself. "Come on, Alex. Give it to me."

Alex bit his lip. He wanted Mackey to say it... it would send him over the edge. He reached around and gripped Mackey's cock, pinching the tip.

"Ooh... nasty bitch. Now you've gone and gotten your sheets messy..." He spasmed a few more times, then found the strength to pull out. He pulled Mackey's head around and used his bound wrists to jerk him to his knees.

"Lick it up, bitch. Lick those linen sheets clean." He gave Karl a look that brooked no argument, and squeezed an ass cheek menacingly. "Lick it up good, or I'll have to punish you." He recalled the torture devices he had left at Karl's house, knowing they would still be there. "Lick." He pushed Karl's head down. "And let me know how much you love it, bitch."

Karl whimpered. He was so ashamed that he hadn't been able to hold on for Alex that it made him hang his head. He deserved whatever Alex gave him. Crouching before his lover, he began to clean up his mess, hoping that somehow Alex could forgive him his error.

"Taste good, bitch?" Krycek pushed Mackey's head down, and slapped his ass, hard. "Yeah. Lick it."

The sharp sting of hand against flesh made him jump, and he moaned, wriggling his ass in the hopes that Alex would see fit to strike him again. The bed was clear of jism now, and he turned his head to tell Alex so.

Alex saw how badly Karl wanted to be slapped again, and smirked cruelly. Wrenching Karl's wrists to bring him to his knees again, he stood up next to the bed.

"Suck me," he growled with the same menace. "Suck me, Karl. Suck me and swallow... all of it." He reached for Karl's head, pushing it into his groin. "Keep your ass up... I want to see it."

Mackey fell on Alex's cock, sucking him deep as though he were the only source of his nourishment. He knelt clumsily as the bonds bit into his wrists, groaning as Alex pulled them up to make him grovel. The taste of Alex was all he'd dreamed. He paid tribute to his lover in the only way he knew, feeling happy as the cock in his mouth began to jerk and tremble prior to bursting deep in his throat.

Alex thrust his hips forward rhythmically as his bitter juices spilled into Mackey's mouth. Grabbing Mackey's hair, he pushed Karl's head and mouth deeper onto his cock, emptying all his lust and hatred into him. Someone else could have it. All he wanted now was to be free... be free. Something Mackey, he'd come to realize, could never give him. Oh, but he made a good substitute for the now, for the immediate now. After he'd finished, and Karl had licked him clean, he jerked Karl's head up by his hair. He looked into his eyes with contempt and anger, lust sated. "You're so fucking easy."

He breathed heavily, eyes dark, waiting for Mackey's reply.

A thin spark of anger flared in Mackey's eyes and was just as swiftly quelled.

"Only for you, Alex." There was something about Alex that was different. He knew that he was going to lose him now. "Where are you going? You don't want me any more, do you?"

Alex looked away.

"I want you, Karl." He got off the bed. "But... I'm going to be gone a lot more, in the future. I've ... got other things I gotta do at the moment." He stepped off the bed and zipped back up. "I'll be... around, boy. Count on it." And, for the first time that night, he actually seemed to smile kindly at Karl. Alex was the master of deception. "Have you talked to him lately, Mackey?" he asked casually.

"The Smoker? Just yesterday, Alex, why? Do you have any messages you want to send?" Mackey's need was visible in his eyes, lending him an air of tragedy that made him feel foolish even as he spoke. He swallowed, and indicated the ropes that still bound him. "Let me go? Didn't I please you?"

Alex's mind was racing, composing messages for the smoking bastard who ruled his life. Yeah. Tell him I've run hard and far, and he can't have me anymore. Tell him I'm free, he'd better watch his step, and get a food-taster. Oh, God, if only that were so. Maybe someday.

He snorted and glanced back at Mackey. "He say anything about Cairo?" He fastened his belt, and then looked at him yet again. "Release you?" he asked teasingly, his eyes twinkling. "You can't do it yourself?" But his belly had tensed - what the hell was the Smoker doing in town... ? He walked over to Mackey, and roughly, unceremoniously, undid Mackey's bonds. "You always please me," he said, dispassionately. "Where did you see him?" He gulped as he said it, though he tried to hide it.

"Cairo?" Mackey's head whipped up. "No, he said nothing," he replied, just a little too swiftly for Alex's liking. "I didn't see him. He phoned me." He looked longingly at Alex, and considered begging. Sometimes begging worked.

"Alex, please?"

Alex bit his lip. There was something Mackey was withholding... "What?" Alex asked softly, held cocked to one side, appearing interested yet ready to leave if there was nothing further that Mackey had to offer him.

"Stay, please? I'll be good for you, I promise." Karl squirmed around until he was kneeling before Alex, and lowered his head submissively. "I didn't tell him about you. I didn't say that you hadn't gone to Cairo. How could I? I didn't know. I can keep secrets for you, Alex."

Alex sighed in relief. So the man hadn't sold him out. "What did he want, Karl?" He stared hard at Mackey. If he lied, he'd know.

"He was just touching base. He wanted to know if I'd seen you. I hadn't, of course. He's looking for you, Alex." Mackey dared to touch his love, stroking down over the powerful thigh as he looked plaintively up at him.

Alex stiffened. He thought he'd been so careful... tied up every loose end. He barely registered the touch of Karl's hand as he stepped back.

"Why is he?" He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling he had to throw up. In any event, he couldn't show Karl his fear. "Excuse me, Karl," he said softly, stepping to the bathroom and standing with hands braced against the sink, staring at his own reflection in the mirror. God, he looked a mess. He stood there, breathing hard, fighting for control.

Something about Alex was different. Mackey couldn't identify it, but he was unsettled. He didn't like it at all. Moving quietly, he put on a robe and went to pour a drink for Alex. If he were servile enough, deserving enough, maybe this time Alex would stay.

Alex had heard Karl go to pour a drink. Walking out to the bar, he smiled slightly. "Thanks, Karl. You always did make a good drink." What if I told you it could be my last one, if CSM finds me? he thought. He gulped it down gratefully, putting an arm around Karl. He couldn't go back, risk getting Dustin hurt.

Leaning in against Alex, Karl allowed himself to look up at him, the need still on his face.

"Stay with me tonight, Alex?" He held his breath as he waited for Alex's answer.

Alex absently stroked Mackey's hair... wishing it were Dustin's. He suddenly needed to see Dustin, to hold him, to know he was okay and that Cancerman wasn't looming over him. His stomach flipped. "I'm sorry, Karl," Alex said, with a faraway gaze. "I got someplace I gotta be..."

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Mackey said, need ringing hollow in his voice, "I won't forget."

He hung his head then and turned away, walking back to the patio, and the waves.

"Mackey." Krycek said softly, with a growl. "I haven't dismissed you yet." He walked out to the patio, grabbing him and pulling him up, as he had previously. "I say I gotta go and things go back to normal for you?" He sneered. "I thought I taught you better than that, boy."

A visible shiver went through Karl Mackey. He'd already come, but his cock leapt to attention at the sound of Alex's loved, hated, caressing voice. Turning to face his tormentor he dropped to his knees.

"You did, Alex. I'm not worthy of you. I'm sorry." With a leaping heart, he awaited his fate.

Krycek spat to the side, prodding him with a boot.

"Get up, Mackey. I think I'm going to have to teach you a lesson. I think I'm going to have to fuck you, hard, over the railing after all. Make you cry to the sea... you think it will care, boy? Look at me when I'm talking to you." Not giving the man a chance to answer, he jerked his head to his and held him there, staring him down for a second before pushing him around and towards the rail. His anger washed over him, anger that CSM was still after him, anger at himself for being weak. "Assume the position," he said mockingly.

"Alex," said Karl, fierce exultation in his voice although his features were still schooled to remain impassive. "Alex, yes."

Karl Mackey, movie mogul, turned to do the bidding of his master.

Krycek pushed Mackey roughly against the rail in such a way that his cock would be almost certainly painfully trapped against the edge of it. Spreading his legs roughly with a knee, he held the man in place with a hand as he undid his belt and unzipped. Taking out his cock, rock hard once more, he licked his lips as he set it at the edge of Mackey's entrance, positioning himself just so. With a grunt, he thrust himself in as far as he could - no hesitation, no lube, just brute force.

He thrust hard, quickly, pinioning Mackey to the rail. Hate, anger... desire. It was all the same to Alex now, and he bit at Mackey's shoulders and neck hard, surely leaving marks.

This was what Mackey needed, what he had craved. He moaned as Alex filled him, stretched him, hurt him with his violent thrusts. In his efforts not to cry out and disturb the man who was even now rutting at his back, he bit into the flesh of his wrist, and permitted the intrusion into his body.

His heart soared. Alex had returned to him. Alex loved him. They were going to be together, and that would be enough. His cock, abraded by the rough wood of the balcony, began to send its own signals, weeping, thrilling and twitching in anticipation.

Krycek wrapped his arms tightly around Mackey, thrusting harder and more savagely as he felt his orgasm building. His balls drew up, and he sank his teeth into Mackey's back, crashing into Mackey in unconscious time with the surf on the beach below. Something broke in him, and he let it go, releasing himself into Mackey, feeling his anger flow out with his seed, and into Mackey. Mackey... he shoved him forward, catching his ear in his teeth. "Yeah..."

Mackey was close, so close. As he felt Alex discharge hot and sticky inside him, he spread his legs apart and pushed back, impaling himself against the burning flood from his beloved. His own cock bobbed, stiff and desperate, and he took Alex's hand to move it against his erection.

"Please, love, please don't deny me now."

"Love?" Alex sneered, jerking his hand back. "Love?" He coughed, backing up. Coming from Mackey now the word rang obscene in his ears, and he had a sudden image of Dustin. "I'm not your love."

He stepped back, chest heaving, hand on fly, poised to re-zip. He glared at Mackey. "You know who I am, boy. Have you forgotten your place? I think you have." His eyes went worse than cold, blank, as he prepared to withdraw emotionally as he already had physically. In another second, Mackey would not even exist for him.

"No! Please, Alex. I'll do better. I'll be what you want me to be, only please" Sinking again onto his knees, he crouched, erect and desperate. "Whatever you want," he whispered again.

"You're worse than pathetic. You sicken me, boy. Get up. Get up and get changed. You have a hard day at work tomorrow, don't you? Need to catch forty winks..." He turned to leave. "Now you are dismissed, boy. Clean up and go to bed."

"You're pathetic, Karl. Worse than pathetic." Spitting out those words as the Hollywood "big man" looked at him beseechingly made his cock twitch pleasurably, even though he had spent himself for the night. He stared down at the man. A sudden burst of cruelty curved his lips as he zipped his fly and rebuckled. He squatted down beside Karl, and pinched the tip of his cock savagely.

"You're such a little slut, you know that? Say it. Tell me you're a miserable slut..." He pinched Mackey's cock, promising more if he didn't humiliate himself quickly enough to suit.

The abuse to his dick felt like fire to Mackey. It was wonderful. He bucked under Alex's fingers, his cock leaping.

"I'm whatever you make me, Alex. Your slut forever." Please, oh please, he thought. Touch me.

"Whatever I make you?" Alex snorted. He pinched Mackey's cock harder, glaring into Karl's eyes. "You are what you are... the only thing you'll ever be." He leaned in, biting Karl's nipple as he squeezed his cock harder. "Tell me what a slut you are and maybe I'll let you come."

"Yes." Mackey's voice was high and desperate. "I'm a slut. I'm a slut for you, Alex. Only for you." His hips twitched minutely, and he bit his lip until the blood ran in his effort to prevent himself thrusting at Alex. He could feel his balls drawing up, and knew that any moment he would come. A small sob escaped from his lips.

"Okay, boy," Alex said, dropping his hand. "Tell me how you want to come for me... that you want to come. Sick boy who can't restrain himself, can he?" He shook his head, a teacher scolding a pupil. Suddenly he wanted to see Mackey come... he would toss him a crumb. Sweet smile as he drew Mackey's lips to his tenderly. "Come on, boy. Come for me. It's all right."

Pulling Mackey in close, hand gently covering Mackey's cock as he kissed him gently, Krycek nibbled at his lower lip. "Come on, boy." He wrapped an arm around him. He wanted to get this over with, but he wanted to give Mackey a reward for not telling CSM where he was. And to ensure he would never want to.

"Oh, God, Alex." Mackey allowed Alex to sink into him, the kiss sweet ecstasy as Alex's fingers finally gave him the orgasm that he craved. He sobbed as Alex withdrew his fingers from his cock, wanting above anything to prolong the sensation of Alex holding him, loving him the way it used to be.

Maybe now. Maybe now he would come home again.

After Mackey came, Krycek smiled. "Good boy... lick my hand for me?" The come dripped off it, and Alex fed it to Mackey slowly. Then he stood up. "Like I said, Mackey... it's good to see you again. But I gotta go... you too, hmm? Have a big day at work tomorrow, don't you?" In his mind, Krycek was gone already as he stepped back toward the house.

Karl remained on his knees, watching as Alex, already remote, prepared to fade out of his life again. He started to speak once, and then moaned low in his throat as he realized that there would be nothing he could do to keep Alex with him.

At last he found his voice.

"Alex, stay. Please stay with me tonight." Deep inside, he knew that Alex would not, and that he would be alone again.

In answer, Alex stepped into the house, grabbing for the car keys in his jacket pocket as he slipped it back on. He smiled, thinking of the owner of those keys. Slipping out the side door, he left quickly, almost damning himself for having a second go with Mackey. He was suddenly, irrationally *sure* that Cancerman had found Dustin and was waiting for him.

Bursting through the back door of Dustin's house he ran to the bedroom.

Once there, his heart rate slowed as he saw Dustin, still curled up in bed, just as he'd left him. He sighed gratefully, and slowly took off his clothes, setting them aside and slipping into bed beside Dustin. He kissed his ear and neck tenderly, "Little cub, my pet..." He was suddenly sleepy, nuzzling his head in against Dustin's shoulder. "My love..."

Dustin was asleep, face lax and appearing almost childlike as he slumbered on. As he felt Alex snuggle against him, he melted against him with a sigh.

Alex sighed too and sleep dropped gently onto him.

3: What You Get For Loving Me

Dustin opened his eyes to full blown daylight. The sun painted a patch of yellow across his face and made him want to sneeze. At first he couldn't work out whose arm was around him, and then the events of the previous night flooded in. He stiffened.

"Oh, God."

Alex Krycek lay spooned up against him, sleeping lightly. He woke after a fashion, stretched, and nuzzled in closer to Dustin's neck. "Morning, little cub," he said. Then he dozed off again.

His first thought was to escape, put the length of the room between himself and the other man, but as he attempted to move away, Alex gripped him tighter. Dustin sighed, and rolled to face him.

Alex opened an eye. "Mmm... Don't get up. Got something for you..." he mumbled. "Or can you get it for me?"

"Something for me?" Dustin was confused. "Where did you go to last night? I thought that you'd gone home."

"Go to...?" Alex was instantly awake. "No, pet. I told you about my work. Sometimes I keep... weird hours. That's all." He flashed a sexy grin. How many people had he charmed with that grin? How many times had he been ordered to charm them? Amazing how many people wanted to date a secret agent... He snorted. "You know. Working myself into the ground."

Dustin looked at his new lover. Something was just not ringing true in the other man's words. He frowned.

"You have something for me? What is it?" He would find out what Alex was hiding, but first, he needed coffee.

"It's... there's a briefcase by the door, there. Be a dear and go get it for me, would you? Set it open on the bed... tell me what you see." Alex stretched out languorously on the bed like a large cat. He pulled his muscles taut, trying to wake up. "We can talk about it... in the shower. When do you have to be at work, anyway?"

"I've got a lunch meeting at 12:30." Dustin slipped out of the bed and padded to the door, retrieving the briefcase that Alex had indicated. Flipping the catches, he laid it on the bed beside Alex, and stood looking down at him. "Can this wait until I get the coffee going? I'm in desperate need here."

Alex smiled. "Coffee... hmm. Sounds good, but I need to get this in you before you get dressed." Alex grinned mischievously. He knew Dustin would balk at what he intended, and he rather looked forward to it.

"I'll be right back," said Dustin as he made for the kitchen. It was only when he was busying himself, measuring the water for his coffee machine that Alex's words finally percolated through into his brain. "In me?" He frowned and retraced his footsteps to the bedroom. "What the hell do you mean, 'in me'?"

Alex smirked. "Open the briefcase, Dustin." It was all he could do not to giggle.

Sighing theatrically, Dustin flipped back the cover, and stared down at the contents of the case.

"Okay, you're the boss. Now what?"

"You should be an actor, Dustin. Take them out... What do you think I meant, in you? You'll need to... um... have one in your ass. Just a little one to start." His smirk widened at the look on Dustin's face as realization set in.. "I'll be gentle. Promise." A menacing tone edged into his voice.

Dustin's eyes widened, and he backed away. No! This couldn't be happening. The blowjobs had been fine, but this was different. A blowjob didn't mean that he was queer. Anyone could get a blowjob, but there was no way he was gonna take it up the ass. Hell, he'd seen Alex's dick, had it in his mouth. It was too big. He'd kill him.

"No," he said. "Oh, nononononono!"

Snake-quick, Alex reached out, grabbing Dustin and pulling him onto the bed beside him.

"Yes, pet, oh yes..." He stared into Dustin's eyes. "It's what you need to do... you said you'd be mine..." Putting his hand on Dustin's cock, he stroked it lightly, precome leaking out of his own cock at the thought. "Imagine, pet. It will stroke your soft nub all day... make you so hot. By the end of the day you will be so het up... you'll want it from hell to breakfast." Seeing fear in his love's eyes, Alex continued, drawing Dustin in for a kiss. "Not gonna do to you what they did to me..." he whispered almost sub-audibly into his ear. "Only to love you, never hurt..."

"What did they do to you, Alex?" Dustin pulled away. This was all moving too rapidly for him. Alex was touching him, making him lose sight of the fears that he had. A glance down at his sheet-covered body revealed that Alex was hard again, and there was a damp patch on the covers that betrayed his enthusiasm for the idea. Dustin sighed again as Alex caressed him. This seemed somehow inevitable, but it didn't mean that he had to like it. "Please, Alex, do I have to? Can't we just - do this?"

Krycek hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud. "Do to me... what did who do to me?" He stopped cold, staring at Dustin. "No, no one did... you must have misunderstood me, pet. Pet... yes, you do. It's... for the best. You'll come to crave it." He trailed a finger to Dustin's asshole and began slowly to circle it. "You'll want it, baby."

Dustin reared back. "Come on, Alex. You know what you said." He pulled away, returning to the kitchen and the coffee, which had just finished gurgling and was now sending out a delicious fragrance. He slammed a couple of mugs down on the counter and poured, angry and aroused. Damn him, he thought. Why is he lying to me? Growling to himself, he leant against the worktop and sipped his drink, feeling better as the life-giving liquid began to filter into his body.

Alex sat up, angrily. He hadn't given Dustin leave; yet he'd walked right out of the bedroom. Shoving the bedsheets aside, he stalked into the kitchen, naked aggression plain on his face and his body. Scowling, he walked up to Dustin, taking the coffee cup from his hands and shoving him back, twisting his arms behind him and spinning him around. "That how you talk to your master?" he hissed, catching Dustin's earlobe in his teeth. "That how you show respect in California?" He set the coffee cup on the counter, holding Dustin in the other arm. "No, it's not. You gotta listen to me now, pet. I'm all you need. Let go, and you'll be free."

He ground his hips harshly into Dustin's for emphasis.

Angrily, Dustin slammed his head back against Alex's chin.

"You want me to trust you, and you feed me BULLSHIT! You think that I'm some kind of subhuman who doesn't fight back? Well, excuse me. If you can't be honest, get out of my life. I don't need any more crap in it." As he finished speaking he was half terrified. A vision of Alex with his knife, stabbing the huge man of the previous evening floated foremost in his brain. He spoke again, quietly this time. "I don't need someone else fucking with me."

Alex stepped back automatically, and looked at Dustin as he erupted. His eyes darkened, but he realized that on some level Dustin was right. As Dustin's voice softened, he moved closer once more.

"You want the truth, Dustin? I'll tell you the truth. I... I want you to know me like no one else. I want to belong to you, and you alone. But I..." his voice faltered, and he looked into Dustin's eyes, hoping his expression would convey the words he daren't say. Stepping in, he wrapped his arms around his pet, holding him close, raw need close to the surface. "Please, Dustin... I need you to trust me." He realized he should give something.

He took up Dustin's coffee, handing it to him. "Let's go sit on the bed and talk, all right? We both know there are things I have to tell you." Gazing into those emerald eyes as if into a mirror, he offered, "You can ask me, and... I'll tell you what I - can."

Dustin stood for a minute, searching the face of the man standing before him. The man's face was locked down tight and no emotion was visible. He wondered if the feeling that had shown itself in the voice was real or assumed. He didn't know any more.

Slowly, he relaxed, and finally nodded, grabbing up the other mug and following Alex as he turned to go back into the bedroom. As Alex climbed onto the bed, Dustin handed him his mug and sat down on the edge.

"Okay, tell me what's going on." Inside, he held his breath, wondering if Alex would lie.

"Ask me a question - I'll tell you no lie." The twisted clich was spoken with the barest hint of a wry smile. Alex accepted his mug gratefully. He stared into its murky depths, and then looked up into the clear eyes of his pet. "Ask. What was it you wanted to know?"

"What did you mean when you said that you wouldn't do to me what was done to you?" Dustin went straight for the thing that was bothering him. He'd seen Alex's flinch when the topic had first been broached, and now he really needed to know just what the story might be. His eyes searched Alex, all his skill as a negotiator being employed as he tried to determine if what Alex said to him might be truth or more lies.

Alex looked away briefly, then back. He knew Dustin would be watching for any hint of deception, and would leave him at the first sign of it. Hell, he'd leave him if he knew the truth! He looked at Dustin, and sighed.

"Remember I told you ... mentioned about Sergei? He... wasn't kind to me. He was a hard master, and... treated me very cruelly. I know - as if you could find lube in a gulag." He spat the words out, bitter memories returning unbidden. He paused, looking at Dustin warily. "He hurt me, Dustin. Badly. I... need to break you in, not go straight from 0 to 60 like he did me."

"Break me in, Alex? You make me sound like a horse. I'm a man. Why do you have to break me?" Dustin had risen, and now he paced the carpet, trying to come to terms with the things that Alex was saying to him. He wheeled to face Alex again. "Where did you go last night?"

"Dustin... I have to... they just... to put it bluntly... took me. I wasn't used to having a dick in my ass, and... it... really hurt me. Still does. Put a ... darkness in me. Do you understand, Dustin?" He watched mutely as Dustin stood up, pacing.

God, this was so hard for him. Did Dustin not realize that? He'd never bared his soul before like this. Not to anyone. "Where did I... ? I told you. I had to meet with a ... business associate." Not a lie, that, but not the whole truth, either. Or was it? After all, Mackey was a business associate of both of theirs.

Dustin returned to the bed, sitting down so abruptly that the liquid in Alex's mug slopped over the side onto his chest.

"What makes you think that I want a dick in my ass?" he asked, his face still closed and mutinous.

Alex looked at Dustin sharply as his coffee spilled. He was surprised by the blankness in his eyes.

"I... you..." Alex fought to say something, anything. Though he knew Dustin's question was valid, he felt his anger swelling, but he would not, could not, hurt Dustin. Were he Mackey he'd be fucking him right now, without any lube, berating and humiliating him. How had Dustin gotten to him so fast? He stroked Dustin's cheek. "Because you do," he husked, hoping just because he said it, it was correct. And, as he did, he knew it to be so. "You do."

Dustin watched Alex bring himself under control. There were still nuances here that he didn't comprehend and that galled him. He swallowed. There were things that he needed to know, and he needed to know them now. He'd spotted the flaring of anger that Alex had so swiftly quelled, and knew that he needed to make sure that the rules were plain.

"I need to know what the rules are, Alex. There have to be rules."

"Of course there are rules!" Krycek spat. Softening his voice, he added, "Will you follow them if I tell you?"

"How do I know, until you tell them to me?" Dustin shook his head. "You must think I was born yesterday."

Krycek whipped his head around, then sighed. "I... I'm sorry babe. I just... lotta memories coming back, you know?" He put an arm around him and pulled him close. "I... I just need to know that you trust me. That you... need me too."

"If you want trust, you have to be honest. You promised to be honest." Dustin resisted the hug for a moment. "No more lies, Alex, please? Promise?"

"Dustin... there's... I'm... I need someone to believe in. Someone to trust totally, love completely."

Dustin's face softened. He wanted so much to be loved. He'd been a long time without love.

"Why me, Alex? What do you see in me? Just the narcissistic need to screw yourself? I'm not you." He laid his head on Alex's chest, still tense as he waited.

"I'm a bad man, Dustin. Don't wanna be bad anymore... just wanna love. I've screwed myself a thousand times over. I don't need you for that."

Dustin was still for a minute. Alex was being honest now, he could see sincerity in him, and it made him want to melt. Something about the way Alex looked tugged at his heart. For a brief second, Dustin had glimpsed old demons that still rode this strange look-alike of his.

"I want you to love me. You make me feel safe." Dustin put his arms around Alex, and together they lay, each lost in thought.

Alex snuggled in against Dustin. "You... make me feel safe too, Dustin. First... one to do that in a long time. First one I can trust." He nipped at the back of Dustin's neck, realization setting in. Dustin also needed love. The same kind of love Alex craved, love deeper than his soul?

He pulled Dustin even closer and said, "I don't ever want to lose you."

The coffee was kicking in, and Alex's arms were safe and comforting. Dustin felt the return of his erection as warmth suffused him. He turned to face Alex, offering his mouth in a kiss that felt wonderful, felt like trust.

Alex took Dustin's mouth tenderly, caressing his upper lip in both of his, opening to explore his mouth with his tongue. He cradled Dustin's head, wrapping his arm around it, pulling him in - hiding him from prying eyes. He moved his hand lower onto Dustin's chest, caressing the smooth skin.

Sighing, Dustin permitted the touches, returning them with growing confidence as he felt Alex's arousal. It was heaven to be needed in this way. He shuddered as he ran his hands over Alex, mapping out the smooth contours of muscle and skin, sensing the strength that lay beneath. His fingers skimmed Alex's nipples, and after a minute, he lowered his mouth to taste them, nibbling at them while Alex stroked his neck.

Alex moaned as Dustin took his nipple. The feel of his lips and tongue sent shivers thorough him that threatened to send him over the edge. The rawness and honesty of the moment, the need, the hunger. Alex kissed the top of Dustin's head, rubbing his neck and back. He reached down and caressed his hard cock, stroking it slowly. He arched against Dustin, bucking as the sensations increased.

It felt good to sense Alex losing control. Dustin smiled, and renewed his onslaught on the tightly budded nipples, nipping them, then flicking them with his tongue. His hand moved down to drop over Alex's cock, feeling it moist and hard to his touch. Slowly, he began to slide his hand over it, working the skin back and forth in a rhythm that was just a little too slow for the other man to come. Lifting his head, he waited for Alex to meet his eyes.

"You want to fuck me? How does that work?"

Alex gasped with pleasure and sweet surprise. as Dustin tongued his nipples; gradually forgetting himself in sensation as he skillfully worked Alex's cock, keeping him right on the edge. Dustin's words washed over him, and he wasn't sure he'd heard him right. His breath hitched in his throat.

"Wh what? Say it again, Dustin?"

"Oh," said Dustin with a smile that was half ingnue and half seduction. "I didn't think that I'd need to say it twice. Tell me what I'm in for. I need to know. Make me feel good about it, Alex." Dustin rolled away from Alex, stretching out on the bed as though he were posing. His body was a little slimmer and less muscled than Alex's, and his skin was an even, golden brown with a dusting of freckles. Slowly, he licked his lips and passed a hand down over his chest, and his flat stomach to trail over his cock. Stroking himself gently, Dustin looked at Alex as he waited for a reply.

Alex gasped. The man was beautiful... so damn beautiful. And all his, if he could say the right words. The coarse words this man was too good for, but must hear. "It's... they're ass plugs, Dustin. They'll gradually stretch your asshole so that when I fuck you it won't hurt as much." He paused, to see how Dustin reacted to his words. "The first is thinner than my finger."

"If it's going to hurt, why do you want to do it?" Dustin's voice was reasonable, and he was still smiling as he caught Alex's hand, pulling it towards him until he had placed the fingers at his anus. "It seemed to me to feel surprisingly good yesterday." He rotated his hips a little, looking at Alex from beneath long, thick lashes.

Alex gasped again. Was he dreaming? Was Dustin really --? He tentatively pushed his finger against Dustin's rosebud. "I... don't want it to hurt. Maybe it doesn't always hurt. All I know is it hurt me the first time, and... well... I wanted to make it easier for you." Alex pressed harder into Dustin, then withdrew his finger, pensive. Had he been answering the wrong question? "Do you... not want me to fuck you, Dustin?"

He felt exposed, saying it like that. He was top, always, except with... yeah. And now - now that he was supposed to be top, with a beautiful man, he found he didn't want to go against Dustin's wishes. Didn't want to, but almost inevitably... He forced his whirling thoughts to rest, and waited for Dustin's reply.

He's going to make me ask him, thought Dustin. He won't let me get away with hints, damn him. Dustin captured Alex's hand once more and dropped a kiss onto the knuckles, before returning it to his asshole.

"If you're going to do it, get it done and then I'll know." His gaze was full and direct as he pressed Alex's fingers into him. "Don't make me wait."

As Dustin guided his hand to his opening once more, Alex was suffused with a sudden dominant impulse - to flip Dustin over roughly and pound into him, nailing him to the bed as he raced towards climax. He took a deep breath, as he probed Dustin's asshole with a finger.

"You want me to ... try?" Alex gasped. He could scarcely believe it. "Got any lube - hand cream, something like that?"

The grin that spread over Dustin's face was wicked enough to stop Alex on his tracks for a moment.

"You think that only gay guys use Astroglide? I got news for you, my man. We all need a little lubrication now and again." Dustin reached up to the headboard, and slid the box of tissues to one side, revealing a small bottle, as well as lubricated condoms and a couple of toys that seemed to involve textured latex. He was still grinning at Alex's stunned expression as he passed the bottle over to him.

Alex took the bottle limply, staring at the condoms. Did Dustin want him to use one? He didn't want to... he wanted to make Dustin his, absolutely. He gently and liberally lubed up Dustin's asshole, after licking at it for a few moments. He was so tight... he couldn't believe he would allow him to take him like this. His breathing became ragged as he finished, putting some lube on his own cock. Then he looked at the toys. And the condoms. He arched a brow.

"Do it. Hurry up, do it to me before I run screaming out of this bedroom." Dustin's face was lightly dewed with sweat, and he was so keyed up now that he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "What am I supposed to do? You gotta help me out a little here. Come on, boss man, what next?" His dick was leaking now, and it was plain that he was very aroused even though there was apprehension on his face.

Alex put his fingers back into Dustin's ass, bending to kiss it lightly.

"I love you... God!" His cock twitched as he thought of fucking Dustin, and now it seemed he was about to... Scissoring his fingers to stretch him, he pulled out, putting the tip of his cock to Dustin's asshole. He took a deep breath. "Ready, pet?" he husked. "Little cub?"

Nodding without speaking, Dustin waited for the onslaught. He expected pain, and pain he got. It burned as Alex's cock, far wider than the fingers he had been using, pressed against him, forcing the muscle to open and admit it. Alex was holding him firmly, and he clenched himself tight against the pain as his ass was slowly but surely stretched into acceptance. There was a sudden lessening of pressure as the crown of his cock passed in, and then Alex gave a quick twist of his hips. All of a sudden, he was inside Dustin, and Dustin was stretched, more aroused than he had ever been. He growled and shifted against Alex.

"Come on. Do it," he snarled.

"All right, then," Alex growled huskily right back. But he just lay there for a second, enjoying the tight feel of Dustin's ass... warm and oh, so snug. He brushed his lips against his shoulder, hoping he'd remember to go easy, not tear Dustin's virgin ass. He pulled out slightly and began to thrust, slowly at first, then faster as he neared climax. He wanted to hold back as long as he could, but as his balls tightened he felt himself slamming harder against Dustin's hips, feeling his cock plunder that tight ass over and over.

"Oh, Dustin!" Alex yelped, biting his lip and drawing blood. "Oh, yes, boy..." He thought he felt Dustin arch towards him, and he moved with him, in time with him. He bit at Dustin' shoulder. "You okay?"

Panting and sweat-shiny, Dustin was feeling wonderful. The burn had given way to delicate thrills of sweet sensation, and now he felt as though his entire world was centered on the place where they were joined. Absently, he squeezed at his cock, knowing that he would come, and not wanting to do so quite yet. He nodded wordlessly at Alex, afraid to speak, knowing that he couldn't manage coherence just at that moment.

Alex drove in again, with a bit more ardor this time. He thrust in and out rapidly, feeling the telltale shivers along his spine.

"I'm gonna come, oh god..." he cried, biting his lip again. He grabbed Dustin's mouth in a kiss as he gasped, "I'm sorry, babe... can't hold back!" He came suddenly, kissing and biting at Dustin's mouth, running his hands over the man's back and flanks. "Ooh, moi Dustina..."

A strangled cry shook Dustin. He could feel Alex pumping white-hot fluid into his bowels, and the feel was unlike anything he'd known. He could see himself spread out beneath Alex like a like a slut, and his cock was so close. He grabbed for Alex's hand again, needing to finish, knowing that just a touch would do it. As Alex's hand closed on him, working him furiously, Dustin finally gave it up, screaming as his own emission poured out of him to anoint his chest and belly.

Alex fell onto Dustin, spent. "Oh, my baby, my pet..." he panted, exhausted, showering Dustin's body with kisses. Why was he so tired? He figured it was in part relief... relief that Dustin had not left, and partly elation... the stunning surprise of it all. He kissed him again, and then just lay there, breathing hard.

"Jesus, Alex. Tell me it's always like that," Dustin gasped. He'd never felt anything like that before. Lying back on the tumbled bed, he tried manfully to recapture his senses.

"Well... it could be," Alex smiled. "But are you sure all you want is vanilla sex, my pet?"

That brought Dustin back to reality. He struggled up onto his elbow as Alex's words hit home.

"For heaven's sakes, what the hell do you mean? That was vanilla? " He tried to bend his mind around to possible other ways of making love, but gave up, shaking his head. "I probably don't want to know just yet."

Alex chuckled. "Fair enough, pet. Fair enough. How about another kiss though?" Alex's head danced with Dustin's naivet.

Laughing in response, Dustin turned, offering his mouth to Alex, and losing himself in the sweetness of a kiss that seemed to place a seal on him.

"I'm yours now, aren't I?" he said, and his voice held a peculiar mix of hope, excitement and longing.

"Yeah... you're mine," Alex husked, drinking him in. "No one else can hurt you now... you're safe."

At last, Dustin was able to get up. He stumbled back into the kitchen, looking for more coffee, and peered in the fridge seeking something fast to eat. His refrigerator stared back, without so much as a slice of bread to offer?

"Are you hungry, Alex? We're gonna have to go out," he called. "The cupboard is bare."

Alex smiled, and got up. "I could use a small breakfast." He walked out behind Dustin. "I'm sure you'll have someplace in mind."

Dustin headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, waiting for the warm water to begin to flow. Stepping inside and feeling the tingle on his skin as the spray hit his shoulders, he began to soap himself absently. This was so strange. He'd never seen himself as loving another man, but he was rapidly beginning to think that this was to be his fate. As he soaped his tender ass, he wondered to what else he was going to be introduced by the strange man who professed to love him.

A few minutes later, Alex walked down to the bathroom doorway and paused, seeing the shadow of his lover behind the shower curtain as he soaped himself. Somehow, the obscurity of the image made him seem all the more beautiful, mysterious, and Alex just stood and watched for several minutes.

Dustin felt tender, as though he had been beaten, but his aches were somehow satisfying to him, badges of honor in a rite of passage that he had endured and from which he had emerged, made new and powerful. As he shampooed his hair, he heard a slight sound from beyond the curtain, and stuck his head around the corner to discover Alex.

He stepped to the shower, taking the room in two strides.

"Hey, Dustin, got room for two in there?" he smiled.

Dustin snickered softly.

"Sure," he said, suddenly shy. "Wanna wash my back for me?"

Alex smiled. "Love to." He peeled off his tee shirt and stepped inside. Taking the proffered soap, he began to lather Dustin's tan back, relishing every curve and plane of his body. His skin was so soft... he moved downward, into the small of Dustin's back. So smooth... so sexy. He ran the soap through Dustin's crack lightly, smiling as the soap disappeared so nicely between his cheeks. He gasped with the thought of... grasping Pet by the hips and turning him around, Krycek shoved Dustin against the wall of the shower, falling to his knees in a mock reverent attitude. He looked up at Dustin with lustful eyes, sticking out a tongue, making licking motions through a lustful grin. "Take this, baby..."

Gasping, Dustin leaned up against the tiles, watching Alex as he menaced him. He'd come once already that morning, and he was astonished when Alex's lewd display began to take effect on his dick, and it began to fill, bouncing slightly as it grew in little spurts.

"You're gonna wear me out, Alex," he said, plaintively, as Alex licked a swathe along his growing erection. "You'll strip the thread and I'll have to get it re-tooled." Then he shut up, silent as Alex sucked him into his mouth with practiced care. "Oh, yes."

Krycek licked along Dustin's cock, feeling the growing arousal of his love. He stroked his tongue along the veins and the ridge beneath, the place where head and shaft met. Running a hand up along Dustin's leg, he grabbed his balls and started playing with them, feeling them grow tight as he did so. Amused, he wondered whether he should finish him or leave him like this. Alex pulled back, looking teasingly at his love. "You want something, Little Cub? Hmm?"

Dustin didn't speak straight away. He stood, cock rampant, with the water running down over him, his chest heaving as he attempted to get his breathing under control. Turning glazed eyes on Alex, he tried to say something, and then gulped, trying again.

"Don't - don't leave me like this, Alex. God. You're like a drug. Please Suck me."

Alex laughed. "Maybe I should leave you like that. Oh, Dustin, you look so pretty. Go on, look at yourself. That's right. Don't you know you're beautiful?" He cocked his head. "Imagine... cock hard, butt plug up your ass all day... Oh, baby, you know *I* won't be getting much work done today."

As Alex's words sank in, Dustin's heart sank.

"Oh, lord, please, Alex." The plug didn't seem like a hardship any more, but he was so hard, dammit. He had to come. He put a hand down to touch Alex's face. "You won't leave me high and dry, will you? You couldn't do that to me."

In answer, Alex put his tongue out and began to lick Dustin slowly, like an ice cream cone. He smiled, and squeezed Dustin's balls again, passing his hand back to caress his love's asshole. "I can do whatever I want to you," Alex said softly.

With another groan, Dustin banged his head back against the tiles and parted his legs to permit Alex free access wherever he wanted.

"Alex? Please? I can be good. I can be really good for you - "

"Tell me how good you'll be," Alex said. "Show me, even."

Dustin arched his back, his dick rosy-tipped and bobbing, the clear fluid oozing in droplets that trickled down, leaving a glistening trail. His knees shook.

"What do you want me to do, Alex? Just tell me."

"Anything I want." Alex's eyes darkened as he mouthed the tip of Dustin's dick, unable to resist the clear honey at the tip. "Anything I say. That's all." He abruptly pushed his finger up into Dustin's ass, rather swiftly and sharply. "Wear the ass plug, for starters. And it'll be a medium one, I think... yeah..."

"God, yeah - " Dustin jerked his hips forward, his cock lifting sharply as Alex's finger invaded his ass. Please, I'll wear one, I promise, I promise." He was babbling now, hips bucking sharply as Alex worked his ass, fingering the little hot spot that was buried there.

Alex grinned, and took Dustin's dick into his mouth all the way, deepthroating him. He pulled Dustin close, still working his ass. He ran his tongue around the head of Dustin's cock, probing the eye lightly with his tongue and sucking in to create a vacuum. He wanted to suck Dustin dry...

It was heaven. Alex's mouth was sweet, hot, blissful pressure, and Dustin was lost, pumping hard now into that swirling, wonderful suction. His body tingled as the tension gathered at the base of his spine, little tendrils of prickling sweetness shot out, and his world gradually narrowed until his cock was a sunburst, wildfire, nova in the cradle of Alex's mouth. He screamed, and collapsed to lie against the cool tiles.

Alex swallowed every drop of ambrosia that his lover gave him, gulping as he kept up the suction to coax as much from Dustin as he possibly could. With all the enthusiasm of a man who has spent three days in a desert without water, Krycek licked and slurped as Dustin's hot juices filled his mouth. As Dustin fell, Alex wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. "That good, baby? Like that, hmm?"

He couldn't speak. Slowly, he fell to his knees under the still pouring water, and opened his lips to place them against Alex's, his arms sliding up to encircle the man who was both his tormentor and his master.

Dustin was deep in the reading of a script when the intercom sounded and Karl Mackey's voice came through, sounding a little irritated.

"Dustin, could you pop over to my office? I need to talk to you about the figures for July." Dustin sighed. He hated to be interrupted right now, just when he'd finally managed to make himself read through the stack of garbage that was sitting on his desk, but still, Mackey was the boss. He stood and moved out of the office, telling Suzanne to hold his calls.

"Hey, Karl. What can I do for you?" He plopped down into a chair and eyed the big man. Mackey was looking tired. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he seemed listless.

"Is there anything wrong, Karl?"

Mackey looked at Dustin, so like his beloved Alex, and yet so very different. He wanted to hurt the bastard for daring to wear the same face as Alex. He smiled, grimly.

Alex drove to the studio in his standard issue dark sedan and found a parking space. Sliding in smoothly, he got out and quickly ran to the studio. He didn't go to Karl's office right away. He went to the records department instead. He wanted to see when the CSM had last been there. Bastard. He skimmed through Mackey's personnel file. Damn! The bastard had been there yesterday. He hadn't seen Mackey though. So what the hell had he been doing?

Swiftly, Alex ran up to the floor Mackey worked on, heading to Dustin's office first. He brushed past the startled Suzanne.

"That was - what happened to your clothes, Dustin?"

Ignoring her, Alex walked quickly towards Mackey's office. He'd nail that bastard right here and now. He was sure he'd seen CSM. He knew it.

"Dustin!" someone called. He turned, and saw a young actress approaching.

He rolled his eyes. "Not now, um, ah..."

"Sarah!" called the actress. "Sarah Wright. 'See No Evil', remember?"

Back in his office, Mackey was inserting the knife into Dustin, prior to turning it.

"I've decided to give Minnow a little more authority, more responsibility. I'm transferring, "See no Evil" from you over to him. Get the paperwork over to his office as soon as you can, would you?"

Dustin gasped. That was his project. He'd conceived it, built it, and now it was being taken from him to hand to a shiftless, blackmailing vagrant. In his outrage he forgot that Minnow was dead, and saw only the injustice of it.

"But - but Karl, that's my project. It always has been."

Dustin sprang to his feet as he tried to marshal the words that might make Mackey reconsider. He knew that his voice had risen to a shout, but he didn't seem to be able to stop it.

"Karl, do you know how much work I've put into that damned show? It's mine. You know it is."

Outside the door, Alex started to answer the actress, but they both turned as the sound of Dustin's voice emerged from Karl Mackey's office through the partly opened door.

"Come on, Karl. Don't do this to me."

Alex sighed. "Ventriloquism," he said, quickly sliding through Mackey's door and shutting it firmly behind him.

"Dustin, I just think that Minnow is the better man for the job..." Mackey's voice trailed away as he saw Alex come in through the door.

Alex was in his face in a flash. "Minnow is better for what job, Karl?" he purred, smirking cruelly. He moved to Dustin, wrapping his arms around him sensually and pulling him close, nibbling his ear sweetly.

"What's Minnow got Dustin hasn't?"

Mackey could only open and close his mouth wordlessly. He couldn't believe this. Where had Alex come from? Why was he here? His mind swam, and his recollections of the previous night floated before him, making him hard.

Alex turned Dustin to face him. "What is it, pet? What's got you so upset you have to shout so, hmm?"

Dustin was still flushed and his chest was heaving as though he had run for miles.

"I - that is, he... It's okay, Alex. I can handle it."

"Pet, what did he say to you?" He wanted to crush the man who'd upset his love. And he thought he saw a way to do it... He wrapped his arms tighter around Dustin, looking at Mackey with a mocking smirk as he pulled Dustin in for a sensual kiss.

"See No Evil is my project. He gave it to Minnow." Dustin felt strangely calm. The world was upside down. Alex was here, impossible though that seemed.

Alex glared at Mackey. "Why did you do that? Dustin is much better than Minnow. At everything." Especially now that he's dead, he thought and his lips twisted cruelly again. "Trust me, Mackey. I know." He released Dustin, and stalked towards Mackey. "Give it back to him."

Mackey merely looked at Alex, and from him to Dustin. The two of them, together. He gasped at the thought, more turned on than he could ever remember. "I..." He closed his mouth again, and merely stared.

Alex moved swiftly behind Mackey. It was a good thing for the man he didn't have his knife in his hand. It was in his pocket though... He looked over at Dustin. "I know you're good at what you do. Mackey doesn't know who he's dealing with." He winked at Dustin. "Would you like to be *his* boss, Dustin? Like him to do what you tell him to?"

Dustin shivered. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

"Um... Alex? What do you mean? I just want my project back."

"You'll get your project back. And so much more... don't you want more, Dustin?" He sneered at Mackey. "Strip for us, boy. I'm gonna teach you a lesson, Karl. About how you treat my friends." He still couldn't believe Karl presumed to take his pet's project away. He knew Dustin had slaved on that. "And tell me, why were you going to give it to Minnow?"

Dustin gasped, and then fell back in astonishment when Mackey lowered his head and began obediently unfastening the buttons of his shirt. This couldn't be happening. Karl Mackey was the president of the company. He wasn't a whore, or a kid off the streets. Why was he doing this? He looked over at Alex, waiting for answers, not expecting to receive them.

Mackey mumbled something very quietly as he slipped out of his shirt. Dustin was too far away to hear what it was. Shirt gone, Mackey began opening his pants, prior to removing them.

Alex walked over to the filing cabinet. The middle drawer held sex toys and torture devices, some of them medical-looking. He smiled at Dustin. "Not so powerful now, is he?" He opened the drawer, getting hard as he perused the objects within it. He selected a wide and long dildo with some electrodes attached. Smiling his cruel smile, he walked over to Mackey.

The device was new to Dustin. He frowned, looking at the thing. He felt a little dubious.

"What the hell is that, Alex?" Karl Mackey was naked now, had fallen to his knees and was groveling beside Alex. Dustin backed away until he collided with the filing cabinet, and stood, wide-eyed, watching.

Alex smiled at Dustin. "You want your project back, right?" He looked at Mackey, growing hard through his jeans as he handed Dustin the dildo's cord. "Plug this in." Mackey was going to pay for speaking to his pet that way. Oh... he would pay. Big time. Fucking Minnow! He hated the way Minnow had become the literal fair-haired boy in the office. Dustin was doing so well, on the fast track. And then Minnow came around. Mackey would help him? Not if he could help it.

Taking the offered cord, Dustin hesitated for a minute. He was afraid. The thing that Alex was holding looked murderous, and he wondered if the act of plugging the thing into the wall socket would make him an accessory should Mackey die. Then he noticed the fierce look of exultation on Mackey's normally severe face. The revelation hit.

"He wants this. He wants Alex to hurt him."

Slowly, Dustin knelt and inserted the plug into the wall.

Krycek yanked Mackey's head back roughly. "You thought him your underling, someone you could boss around. Make him do as you say. Make him suffer after you found your golden boy. But you never knew I'd find mine, did you, Karl?" Krycek turned, nodded his thanks to Dustin, and brandished the dildo in front of Mackey. "What do you say, boy?"

"I'm sorry Alex. I was angry because because he's not you. I didn't know - " Mackey hung his head, perfectly still, awaiting the judgment that Alex would make. It seemed as though whatever Alex decided would be enough for him.

Mackey raised his head, his eyes burning into Alex's in a way that left Dustin out in the cold.

"You are my master. He's an insult, because he's like you, and he isn't you." His words were expressionless, and Dustin squirmed uneasily at them.

"You... you calling Dustin an insult? That -- insults me, Mackey. I won't have it." Krycek pushed Mackey down so his chest was on the rug. He looked over at Dustin. "Pet, bring me some rope, would you?"

"Rope?" Dustin looked at Alex. This was a production company, not a shipyard. Where the fuck did Alex think that he'd be able to find a piece of rope at short notice? It was Mackey who solved the problem, calling out to Dustin to look in the drawer. Dustin opened the drawer and removed the rope, shaking his head at the strangeness of it all.

"Tie him," Krycek said. "Mackey, tell him how to tie you. How I like it best." He grinned, eager to punish Mackey and strangely reveling in Dustin's confusion about the situation. He was surprised Mackey was so complacent, though. He knew Mackey was his total slave, but he'd expected some sort of protest.

Moving like an automaton, Dustin followed the instructions given as he bound Karl's wrists together tightly, passing a loop from the knot around the crouching man's neck, pulling it tight enough to choke him should he struggle too hard.

"How's that, Alex?" he asked, stepping away when he had done.

"That's great, Dustin." Alex smiled, and knelt beside Mackey, passing a hand over the man's bare flesh. He pinched his dick, and balls. "So you thought to give Dustin's pride and joy to Minnow because he wasn't me. How goddamned *sweet*..."

"I love you, Alex. You know that. It hurts to see him, because he could be you, but he's not." The wail from Mackey was pain filled, but it was not the pain of the physical that he was feeling, Dustin could tell that. He shivered. Were there no secrets that Alex didn't know, wouldn't discover? He was afraid. It could one day be him there on the floor begging for mercy

"Dustin could be me... how so?" Krycek felt Dustin needed to hear this. It would build him up, and Alex wanted Dustin built up. Especially by a man who'd upset him so. He snarled, sliding the dildo between Mackey's ass cheeks, along the crack but not in it. "Tell Dustin. Tell him what you mean, he could be me." Looking at Dustin, Krycek smiled, sliding the dildo teasingly on Mackey's skin.

"You and Alex," wailed Mackey, glaring at Dustin from his position on the floor. "You look so alike, but he's my lover. He's always been my lover and you - " There was contempt in the voice, incongruous as it seemed. "You're just an employee."

Krycek tensed. "'Just' an employee, Mackey? Have you seen nothing since I came in here?" Roughly, Krycek shoved the dildo into Mackey's asshole. How dare he speak to his love that way! How. Fucking. Dare. He. "Come here, love," he said softly to Dustin. His rage seethed within. Mackey just insulted his cub... Krycek pushed the dildo in all the way, then flicked the switch for a few seconds.

Dustin heard the summons, but he was powerless to move. This was all too damned much. He stood, not sure whether to turn and bolt from the office, or to approach Alex and assist in this - he groped for a word - this torture of his boss.

"Alex?" The word fell from his lips like a plea as he saw Alex insert, and then turn on the dildo.

Karl Mackey screamed as the device Alex held delivered its jolt to his sensitive rectum. Dustin eyed the door nervously, wondering if his secretary would rush in, or if security would be called. He moved to stand beside the door, unsure whether to leave or stay, afraid to do either.

"Now... what was that about Dustin?" Alex breathed, ready to turn the dildo on again if Mackey didn't answer correctly, or didn't answer quickly enough.

"I love you, Alex." Mackey whispered through gritted teeth. "You. I love you."

Growling, Alex spat onto his slave.

"Wrong answer. I know you love me." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "But you saw me with Dustin. Does that not tell you anything?" He waited to flip the switch - he wanted to hear Mackey say it aloud. Say he knew Dustin was his new pet, but as he thought about it for a moment, he became angrier. It was disrespectful towards him, Alex, for Mackey not to say it. He would leave the juice on until Mackey begged him to stop, and showed knowledge of Dustin's new status, if not acceptance. He took one of the electrodes that dangled from the end of the dildo and attached it to the head of Mackey's cock, wedging the tiny lead into the slit. He took two others and attached them to his balls. A fourth he put on the base of Mackey's cock. As he attached each lead, he felt himself growing harder. When he was finished, he moved back, and pressed the button.

Mackey spasmed as the charge hit his genitals. He arched backwards, bones cracking as he strained, and a howl erupted from his lips, a strange, banshee wail that terrified Dustin. Dustin stepped forward quickly, laying a hand on Alex's arm.

"For God's sake, Alex - " He didn't want to see this.

Krycek looked at Dustin, eyes hard as flint. "He needs to say it, Dustin. Don't worry. It won't hurt him... permanently." He turned back to Mackey. Dustin might as well not have been there. He pumped the dildo into Mackey roughly a couple of times. "Karl. What do you say?"

"Anything, Alex. Anything. I won't hurt Dustin, I promise. Stop, please - " Mackey had fallen to the floor, and Dustin could see blood dripping from his wrists. As he watched, the loop around Mackey's neck tightened, turning his face red as the oxygen was shut off from his brain.

"Don't, Alex," Dustin said again, afraid of what would happen next.

Krycek looked at Mackey, at last realizing his extreme physical distress. He let go of the switch, pulled the dildo out of Mackey, and took the electrodes off. He made sure the rope was loosened around Mackey's neck, and growled, "And you'll give him back his project, 'See No Evil'?"

Mackey sobbed brokenly as the torment finally ceased. He lay on the floor, blood and mucus flowing from his nose and mouth, his wrists a painted flag that denoted his servitude.

"He's yours, Alex. He can have whatever you want." Mackey seemed totally lost.

Krycek looked at Mackey. He had wanted to jolt the man, not hurt him... to this degree. He'd used it on him before... and not had these effects. He put a hand on Mackey's forehead as a thought struck him. Perhaps a sweetener, after all, you get more flies with honey... He looked at Dustin. "Would you excuse us a moment? I need to... speak to Mackey..."

Dustin looked from one to the other, feeling somewhat faint. From somewhere, he summoned up a cheery grin that he was far from feeling.

"Um - Okay, I'll be outside in the secretary's office if you need any help. I'd hate to see you in danger from him." He turned and opened the door, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he left the two of them behind.

Krycek stroked Mackey's cheek. "Karl... talk to me, baby."

Thick sobs shook Karl, but at Alex's touch he lifted his head, straining to nuzzle Alex's hand.

"Love you so. Don't hurt me any more." He snuffled pathetically as he awaited his fate.

"Karl, you gotta understand something. You... you know things are... different, now."

Mackey allowed a single hiccupping sob to escape him, and then lay still.

"You don't love me. You love him. I know." There was loss in his voice; a pain like none that Alex had ever inflicted had him in its grip.

"That's right. But you're still mine, yes?" Krycek bit his lip. "I need you still, Karl." It was true. On some level, Alex did still need Karl. To be the adored one, revered absolutely. He stroked Karl's chest softly. "Sit up, boy. Look at me."

Struggling and squirming, Mackey flopped into a sitting position despite his bound wrists. His face was dangerously suffused with blood again as the choking rope pulled tight with his efforts, and he wheezed at Alex, willing him to see the predicament that he was in.

Krycek cocked his head. "Hmm... You want some breath deprivation torture, Mackey? Then by all means, keep struggling. Here." He pulled the rope's slipknot, and Mackey was free. Wearily, he pulled himself up to stand beside Alex.

Gasping in great breaths of air, Mackey lay against Alex, still shuddering with unvocalized sobs as he pondered Alex and his new love. The loss was enormous, crippling. He turned to Alex, his eyes begging him for love even though he dared not say a word. Alex stroked Karl's hair.

"Do you... you... my God, you still..." He shook his head, not believing. Not wanting to believe. He didn't want to believe Mackey was still so in love with him. Yet he knew it was true. "Mackey... why did you take his project away, and give it to Minnow?" His voice was almost kindly.

Karl sniffed, his distress easing as time brought distance from the pain.

"I wanted to make him suffer. I knew last night that you didn't love me any more. I followed you to his place. I - " he sobbed again, tears streaming down unstopped to fall onto his chest, and onto Alex's sleeve. "Don't tell me I can't love you, Alex. You're all I want. All I ever wanted."

Krycek's eyes turned dark and he pushed Mackey away, sending him stumbling.

"You - followed me? I thought you knew the rules, Karl. I thought you understood there were things..." He backed off, angry. "You assumed we were lovers. On what basis?" he sneered at Karl. "And I would never presume to tell you that you can't love me, Karl." Perversely, he was turned on by Mackey's suffering love. He wanted to hear more. He walked up behind Karl, kissing his tears. "I need you, baby. You know that. But now...so does Dustin. He needs you, too."

"Don't - " Mackey hung his head again. "Don't be angry with me, Alex. I only wanted to be near you. I can't stand the thought of losing you." He drooped. "How do you need me? How does Dustin need me?"

Krycek pulled Mackey to him, roughly.

"You're a very naughty boy, Karl. What happened to trust?" He laughed, biting his ear, hard. "Only say you'd like two masters, and you shall have them." A thrill went through Krycek as he imagined fucking Karl's ass while Karl gave Dustin a blowjob. Then, he and Dustin could switch, and... He pushed his cock, hemmed in by his jeans, against Karl's naked ass. "Would you like that, boy? Hmm?"

There was silence for a minute. Mackey sat shivering.

"Will you still love me?" There was a kind of terrified joy to his words as he spoke, his face alight with a hope that had not been there until Alex had asked his horrible, wonderful question.

"Of course." As much as he ever had...

Mackey sank to his knees, his arms, laced with red, reaching out to hold his love around slim hips, his mouth tracing the bulge beneath the denim.

"Whatever you need, Alex," he mumbled.

As Karl bent towards him, Alex said, "Karl... would you call Dustin back in?" He felt his cock strain the fabric. "Give me a blowjob, Mackey. Here, in your office. You know you want to, don't you?"

Krycek felt the return of some semblance of control as Karl obligingly called for Dustin, and then eagerly took his erection into his mouth. When Dustin opened the door, it was upon the vision of his boss sucking his lover deep into his throat.

Alex called Dustin over softly. "Come here, pet." He stroked Dustin's crotch. "Want that taken care of, pet? Want a good blowjob? Nobody gives them like Mackey... or do you want to fuck him? I'd love to see you fuck him, pet. Take back the power he holds over you. He bosses you around. You show him who the real boss is. Would you like that, little cub?"

Shaking his head, Dustin watched, fascinated at the way Mackey was working Alex's cock. It was arousing to watch his lover so completely in control of this man, transforming him from the CEO into a rentboy. Despite himself, he felt his cock rising, and the color flooded to his cheeks.

"Dustin... I want you to do this." Alex held his gaze, turning his eyes a shade darker. He looked down at Mackey. "Tell him you want him, Karl," he growled. "Tell him you want him deep." That got Krycek hard, thinking of Mackey telling Dustin he wanted him... after the way he'd treated him... He gazed back at Dustin. "You'll feel so good about this... you'll love it."

Removing Alex's dick from his mouth, Karl obediently turned to nod at Dustin. "God, Dustin, please." He choked as Alex rammed his cock back down his throat, and moaned, his own erection forgotten as he pleasured the man who controlled him.

Dustin felt a surge of lust and moved over to run his hands over Mackey's behind, wondering.

Alex caught Dustin's gaze as he thrust into Mackey's mouth. It was so fucking hot.

"Do it, Dustin... do it..." He couldn't wait to see Dustin shove his hard, huge dick into his - their - slave. "Baby... I want to watch you." He wrapped his hands in Mackey's hair, pushing him onto his cock as he watched Dustin lustily. "It's gonna be so good, boy, filling you at both ends... the way a slut like you deserves."

Dustin gave a faint whimper, and drove his cock deep into the ready opened depths of Karl Mackey's waiting ass. He gasped at the heat that enveloped him, and again when he met Alex's eyes, burning and intense as he stared into Dustin's eyes. Goddammit! He was gonna come like a schoolboy with a copy of his dad's Playboy. This was so incredibly good.

Alex gasped as he watched Dustin's cock slide into Mackey, as swift and sure as would his own. It was incredible to watch Mackey take his love deep, while he was sucking him. He leaned forward, to catch Dustin's face in a kiss. He gulped for his mouth, parting his lips and teeth with his tongue, exploring it - that spicy, sweet, musky scent came back to him. He pulled at Dustin, urging him on, as his hips bucked against Mackey's face. Feeling his balls draw up, he reached under Mackey for his cock, to pinch it as he kept up the kiss with Dustin, licking and sucking his sweet mouth and face and ears and neck.

"Come- coming!" gasped Dustin into Alex's mouth, totally lost in the sensations that were being generated by this perverse encounter. His hand reached down to join Alex's, taking Karl's cock and stroking it frantically as he plunged inside him. The flood of feelings that took him and shook him were sudden and intense. He jammed himself into Mackey, and felt his come boiling up and through into his ass.

"No!" Alex took Dustin's hand. "Don't stroke it... here, like this." He showed Dustin how he pinched the tip of Mackey's cock, to keep him from coming. "Sick baby loves it..." He began thrusting hard, too, and threw his head back, exposing his throat to Dustin as he came into Mackey's mouth, feeling his ass's flexion as he spurted spasmodically, emptying himself down Mackey's throat.

"Oh... oh wow..." He reached for Dustin again, thrusting into Mackey's mouth one more time as he nipped at Dustin's neck. "Oh..." He leaned his head on Dustin's shoulder, his other arm loosely about Mackey's neck. "Fuck, yeah..."

Dustin couldn't quite make himself hurt Mackey. He batted Alex's hand away and gripped the leaking, desperate cock in his had, stroking it hard and fast.

"C'mon, Karl." He whispered, throatily, his own cock slowly subsiding as the fluid of his ejaculate trickled down from Mackey's ass.

"Karl," Alex said. "Do you want to come?" He looked at Dustin, rolling his eyes. Fine, fine, but that's half your power, pet, he thought, exasperated. You were going to dominate him, remember?

Dustin took away his hand as though it had been burned.

"Alex?" he asked, unsure now as the pleasure drained away, leaving him shaken.

Alex sighed. "Pet, half the power is..." He stopped, and decided to *show* him... that might be better. He jerked Mackey onto his knees. "Want something, boy?"

Whining, Karl knelt at Alex's feet, his distended, abused cock throbbing visibly.

"Please, Alex." His voice was quiet and hoarse, and he looked at Alex, pleading with his eyes as he crouched.

Alex looked at Karl, taking his cock gently, teasingly, onto his fingertips. "Please what, Karl? What is it, baby?"

"Please let me come, Alex. I'll be good. I promise." Mackey's voice was gentle, but there was a quivering desperation evident in his burning eyes and trembling body. "Help me come, Alex?"

Alex smiled kindly, taking Mackey's cock in his hand. "Okay, baby. Okay." He stroked Mackey's cock in the rhythm he liked best, pulling him in to nuzzle his neck. "You were a good boy now, Mackey... good, good boy. It's all right. You can come now. Come on..."

Thrusting and groaning, Mackey turned his head, pressing his lips against Alex as he came, shooting his libation in a white fountain to arc across the office and strike the side of his desk. He cried out then, hoarse and sharp, as his body shook. As Alex loosed his hold on Mackey's cock, the man leant into him, whispering thanks and love.

Alex put an arm around Mackey. "That's all right, boy. It's all right." He looked at Dustin. "Here, pet. Give him a hug."

Somewhat shakily, Dustin knelt alongside Mackey and put his arms around him. Mackey turned, flinging his own arms around Dustin as he approached. All of a sudden, Dustin found himself enveloped in the other man's arms, kisses pressed to whatever part of him came near to Mackey's mouth, and broken thanks issuing from his lips. He looked helplessly at Alex.

Alex smiled. "This is how it is at the top." He laughed at the Hollywood clich. "He needs... tell him you love him. He needs to know you care for him." He looked into Dustin's eyes. "He's given himself to us, and in return we... how did you feel when you gave yourself to me, Dustin?"

He shook his head. Some things were difficult to think about, even now. Frowning, he considered how he had felt, aware that Mackey was waiting greedily for his answer.

"I think," he said, slowly, "that I felt afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid, at dinner?" Alex sucked in a breath. He hadn't expected that.

"Oh, no, not then. Then I felt relief, that you would help me, care for me. I meant before that, when you made me - When you -" Dustin couldn't say it in front of Mackey.

"Yes, pet, I know. But you hadn't given yourself to me then." Alex smiled gratefully; Dustin understood. He kissed his neck, then Mackey's.

"I don't understand. You mean that Karl wants you to hurt him because he needs to be taken out of his own hands? That doesn't make sense, Alex."

Alex sighed, and looked to Karl for help. Truth be told, there were times he didn't understand it, either. He had asked Karl a few times, and Karl would simply say, "I love you." For both of their sakes, he hoped he'd be somewhat more forthcoming now.

"You always know what I need, Alex, and you give it to me. I couldn't imagine a life without you, moi lyubov. I need you to be with me, help me, forgive me." Mackey became suddenly silent, turned in on himself in a way that seemed to preclude any further speech.

Alex softened, pulling Mackey to him. "Moi Karl," he said. "I will always give you what you need. You know that..." He kissed him, a kiss of a history shared that did not include Dustin.

Dustin put his arms around them both, relishing the feeling of warmth and love that flowed from them, and between them. His heart thudded. This was belonging.

Karl Mackey sat on his deck, trying to forget the previous night's passions with Alex and Dustin so he could actually get some work done before the night was over. He sighed, staring at the sea. Alex had been right about it - the rocks taking a beating and standing strong through it. Hell, he'd kept the Smoker off his trail. That was something, wasn't it? He picked up his drink and stared contemplatively. Dustin. Dustin was another animal altogether, but he rather liked the way they took him last night. And it was what Alex wanted. He'd always do anything for Alex... anything.

The first indication that he was not alone was the smell of smoke that suddenly tickled his nostrils, making his gorge rise. When he looked up his heart sank. The old man had entered noiselessly, and stood before his desk, a faint smile on his withered face as he puffed on the ever present Morley.

"Hello, Karl," said the Smoker. "I think we have things to discuss, don't you?"

"What things, Sir?" Karl gulped. He'd been telling this hated man he hadn't seen Alex for two months... that he had been off to Cairo then. What mistake had he made? None that he knew of. He'd been so careful. "I haven't seen Alex yet," he continued in his best dejected and rejected voice. "I wish he'd come back to me - I miss him, and the way he used to love me. The way he used to hold me..." Karl was babbling, purposefully pathetic. "Sure he hurt me sometimes, but all love hurts if it's real, isn't that right?"

"It certainly is," agreed the Smoker, smiling hatefully as he stubbed the half smoked cigarette out in the soil surrounding Mackey's Bird of Paradise plant. "I can't imagine why he would leave you lonely for so long. you must be quite bereft." He stepped closer to Karl, almost breathing down his neck and suddenly reached out to seize Karl's wrist, upon which the rope burns and cuts were clearly visible.

"It seems as though you've been playing Alex false, Karl. That's not a loving thing to do, now, is it?"

"Playing him false?" Karl stammered, following his gaze. Shit... oh shit. He'd had it, and he knew it. The Smoker knew what a hold Alex had on him. Unless...

"I... went to a sex club the other night. Needed to be touched so bad... to be whipped and shamed." He raised his eyes to the Smoker's. "Now Alex will love me more, hurt me more, right?" Mackey was surprised at how easily the lie came. He must not sell Alex out, and play him false for real...

The Smoker's hand shot out, burying itself in Karl's hair, and then tightened, cruelly twisting until Karl felt some strands start to come loose.

"I think that it's time you and I were honest with each other, Karl, don't you?" He yanked, dragging Karl's head back to expose his throat and smiled, a smile that bared his teeth in a gloating, feral grimace that had less humor in it than any smile Karl could ever recall.

He suddenly released the hair and extracted another cigarette from the open pack in his pocket, flicking his lighter to ignite the tip with a singular concentration that seemed odd after his violence of the previous moment.

Karl's heart had skipped a few beats, but he thought he recovered nicely. "I *am* being honest, Sir." He looked into the Smoker's rheumy eyes, willing his gaze not to waver.

The Smoker's hand shot forth once more, the hair was seized again, and this time his head was shaken to and fro, roughly.

"You're a liar, Karl. Where is he?"

"I don't know! I haven't seen him, I told you! I swear it!" Karl wished the words were true now. Oh, how he did. The Smoker had always scared him. He'd seen what he was capable of. But he could not leave Alex to him. He knew Alex was trying to leave the Smoker, and to tell him where he was - no, he'd rather die himself than do that. "If I'd seen him, don't you think I'd be with him now? He's in Cairo..."

The sharp blow came from nowhere, a stinging slap that took Karl's breath and left his ears ringing. The Smoker smiled once more.

"Try again, Karl. I didn't hear you that time." He removed the cigarette from its place between his lips and puffed it again. "Where is he? I know he's in town."

When his ear stopped ringing, and he felt he could speak straight again, Karl said, slowly and succinctly, "I tell you I haven't seen him in two months. Can I make it any clearer than that?" He glared at the old man, hate and defiance in his - oops, waaay out of character, Mackey. He quickly lowered his eyes. "I-- if he's in town I'm very hurt he hasn't been to see me." Simpering now: "Why wouldn't he come see me? I've been good to him, haven't I?"

The hand tightened in his hair, and he winced. His scalp was going to hurt for days.

Opening his eyes, he found the old man staring intently into his eyes.

"Such attractive eyes you have, Karl. No wonder Alex loves them." His voice was full of threat, and Karl felt the cold of panic slither down his back. "I wonder if he'll love you so well if you are returned to him with only one." The cigarette began to move towards Karl's eye. "Where is he? Karl?"

Mackey closed his eyes, hard, twisting away. "Don't... know!" And if I did, do you really think I'd tell you? he thought viciously.

The cigarette drew inexorably closer. Karl struggled, but the hand that held his hair brought him back.

"Where is he, Karl? Do you think that he'll still love you when one of those pretty brown eyes is a red ruin? I'm sure that they can do wonderful things with lasers these days, but I don't feel that they'd be up to repairing the damage I can cause." The oily voice remained perfectly gentle, and still the cigarette approached.

Karl could feel the heat of it on his cheek, heard the frizzling sound that was his lashes burning, and smelled the scent of charring hair. He whimpered and choked up.

"I know you'll hurt Alex if I tell you." He started to cry. "If I knew where he was, why would I tell you? I love Alex, don't want you or anyone to hurt him. Want him happy... Why do you always hurt him so much?" Mackey was pathetic now, really bawling. "He's waited years for the chance to slip away... you think I'll let you ruin his happiness?"

The pain as the glowing tip of the cigarette touched his eyelid was almost too dreadful to bear, and yet Karl knew that it was only the beginning.

Briefly, the fiery thing was removed, and the Smoker spoke again, all reason and thoughtfulness.

"I will have obedience from you, Karl. Alex is in trouble, and only you can help him, but you must do this for yourself, and not for Alex. Love is a very fine thing, and you are to be commended for the depth and purity of your feelings. When you see the object of your devotion dead, and you could have assisted me in saving him, why then you will put out your other eye out of sheer grief." The red glow began to approach Karl's eye once more.

Karl bit his lip. "Alex is in trouble?" he asked, slowly. "You - you don't want to... hurt him this time? I - might be able to get a message to him."

"Oh, come now, Karl. You know that I need more than that. I need his whereabouts, and I need them now. Hurry, I grow tired." The cigarette sizzled as the tip stroked down the bridge of his nose, painting a trail of agony behind it as it approached his eye once again. Karl gasped. He was used to pain, but...

"How do I know I can trust you? Last time we trusted you ... I nursed Alex's wounds. He told me about Sergei then. Why should I believe you now?" But Mackey had his doubts. If Alex *did* need this man's help...

"Can you afford to take the chance, Karl?" CSM spoke kindly and almost too quietly to be heard over the sizzle and singe of crisping eyelashes.

"No... I can't... I know you're smarter than me and you know best." He was back to blubbering now as an acrid smell filled his nostrils and ashes stung and burned his cheek and eyelid. "I could be like Oedipus... burn my own eyes out from shame, if I don't trust you. Can I trust you?" He put an arm around the Smoker, a frightened child seeking reassurance from his father.

The menacing hand dropped, and in the one gripping his hair moved to cradle Karl's head, as the old man stroked his abused scalp.

"Of course you should trust me, Karl. Come now, hasn't Alex always trusted me? Would I harm him? He's my child, Karl. Would I harm my own flesh and blood? I want only to help him before it's too late." The Smoker pulled Karl against him, tender as he stroked his hair. "Dry your tears and tell me where I can find him. It really is a matter of great urgency."

Karl sniffed. "But... you... you've hurt him before. He told me never, never to tell you. I promised him... you won't hurt him again? Why did Sergei have to give him to you if he was your own then?" Karl was confused. This man was Alex's father? He'd done all that to his own son? Been his Master and... Something broke in Karl. "I don't understand..."

"You don't need to understand. I know that Alex has done things to hurt you. Believe me, I have seen his viciousness with my own eyes, and even known it against me, his father. You must also understand that Alex isn't always a truthful boy. Do you hear me? Now help me to help him, and we'll say no more about it." The lighter crackled as another cigarette was lit above Karl's head. Karl whimpered.

"This morning I was so sad... he's found another love. But then he came by and said they could both be my masters... I still belong to him! I was so happy. I thought he'd left me... but I still have him. I know he's in town, but I'm not sure where he is right now." That at least was true. He had a guess where Alex was, but it was also possible he was out at a club... Dustin and Alex both loved clubs.

The old man caressed Mackey's face, drawing a single finger along the path of the burn he had inflicted, trailing it through the ooze of clear liquid there and bringing it back up to his lips.

"Good, good. Tell me Karl, who is this new love of Alex's? Where does he live?"

Karl sighed. He had failed again, he knew. Yet part of him craved the old man's approval. "Yarma. Dustin Yarma. He works for me. Producer - lives up in the hills a ways over." Relieved sobs escaped as he breathed the information softly, knowing the Smoker would hear. "Am I doing right in telling you?"

"Of course you are, Karl." The Smoker stooped to drop a kiss onto Karl's hair. "You've helped Alex in ways for which he will never be able to repay you." Abruptly, he released the clinging Mackey and backed away, a slim, straight figure in a silk suit, vibrant despite his obvious age. "Goodnight, Karl. I'm sure that we'll meet again soon."

"S - sir? You... you'll be good to Alex?" His fears returning now, as he saw the man retreat. Study in evil, he. Alex's father? He'd never told him that...

There was no response. All that remained of the Smoker's disturbing presence was the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. The man himself had gone.

He waited for a couple of moments, the things that he'd heard warring within his brain. Alex God, Alex was his love, more than his love, his lodestar, his all. His eye burned, and his nose hurt him too, but he couldn't rest until he knew that everything was all right.

At last he picked up the phone and dialed Dustin's house, knowing what he'd hear.

Alex kissed Dustin, relishing the feel of his taut, hard body beneath him. He still couldn't believe Dustin let him in so readily, and it gave him a heady feeling. He thrust into him slowly as he told him what a good boy he'd been, to wear his butt plug as he'd asked. It had made him hot to think about it, and he growled his pleasure. He was about to speed up when the phone rang. Tensing, he stopped his thrusts. Reluctantly rolling off Dustin, he picked up the phone, as he looked at him.

"Don't go anywhere," he said rhetorically. Putting the phone to his ear he said, "Yeah."

Karl's heart soared to hear Alex's voice, and then sank as the implications of it came home to him. Alex was loving Dustin, not him, and that pain was harder to bear than the burns to his face. He screwed his eyes shut in anguish, and tried to stop the tears that were beginning to well up at the thought of the two of them without him.

"Alex, you have to run. He - he came tonight. He was going to burn out my eyes, and I told him where you were. I'm - " He couldn't go on. The sobs choked him and he stood waiting, sure that Alex would tell him that they were through forever.

At Mackey's words, Krycek was on his feet immediately, sex suddenly the farthest thing from his mind. Damn... damn. And the Smoker no doubt had the line tapped.

"Right, Karl. Thank you," he said shortly, hanging up. He began pulling his clothes on, hurriedly. "Come on, Dustin," he said. "Get up and get dressed. We've got to leave." There was a sharpness and urgency to his words, and he hoped Dustin would follow his instructions without the usual questions.

"What?" Dustin watched as Alex pulled on his jeans, a faint furrow on his brow as he pondered. "Why are we getting up? What's happened"

He sat up, but didn't immediately leave the bed. This was too weird.

Krycek threw on his shirt.

"Just get up and get dressed Dustin. Please. We don't have time for questions." He grabbed his knife, which he kept by the bed and tucked it into his waistband. His gun was in his jacket pocket, on the chair by the door. He pulled on his shoes. "Come on, Dustin!" Krycek looked back at Dustin, then looked out of the bedroom door. Damn. Had Mackey given the Smoker the address?

"Come on, Alex, what's got you so upset?" Dustin finally climbed out of the bed, his erection wilting as he reached reluctantly for the clothing he had worn earlier. Alex had gone to stand by the window, peering inelegantly through the blinds onto the street below, and appeared agitated. "Nobody's gonna disturb us at this time of night, I guarantee it."

Krycek turned, laughing sourly. "I can guarantee you they will, pet. Now get the fuck out of bed!" Disturb us indeed. That'll be putting it mildly. He walked over to Dustin. "Please, pet, just listen to me. Okay? Something's... come up at my work and we're not safe here."

"For goodness' sake, what are you doing to us, Alex? To me? I'm not safe in my own home? How is that possible?" Dustin slipped on his shoes and jacket as he spoke. "Guess I'm ready then. Now what, Mr. Secret Agent Man?"

Krycek looked at Dustin rather more sharply than he'd intended as he threw on his leather jacket. Just the feel of it comforted him, as if he was slipping into a new persona by slipping it on. It made him feel invincible, almost. Almost.

Moving swiftly towards the door, eyes darting everywhere, he said, "I'm sorry, baby. Mackey... spilled the beans. He knows where I am. And if he finds me, he finds you. That can't happen." Reaching the front door, he paused. He stopped, turned, and headed for the back door instead. Then he paused again, wondering which was safest. Which door is CSM more likely to be at? Front door, if he thinks we're not expecting him. But... Ah, hell. Krycek walked to a window and opened it. Nothing. Yet... the air smelled of danger to him. He looked back at Dustin again.

"Come on, love." He pulled Dustin towards the deck door, grabbing his gun and holding it at the ready as he stepped outside, pressing Dustin behind him, flattening them both against the stucco, in the shadows of the full moon. He snorted. "Pretend you're in a James Bond movie if it makes you feel better, but believe me..." Hearing a noise in the bushes he swung his gun around, but it was only a black cat, who looked at Krycek balefully as he ran off.

Dustin paused to lock the door behind him, and then followed Alex's lead as they worked their way around the building. He could see no reason for this stupid exercise, and was beginning to make his mind up to go back to his bed, when Alex seized his arm and gestured that he be silent. An indication with a slight jerk of Alex's chin revealed a dark shape, a shape that held a gun, prowling softly towards Dustin's patio door. A moment later the sound of tinkling glass shattered the silence of the night.

Cursing under his breath, Dustin followed Alex rather more rapidly as he made for the Porsche. Upon reaching it, the two of them abandoned all attempts at stealth in favor of speed, and as the engine fired up, roaring into life, they saw Dustin's front door open.

Shoving Dustin's head down, Krycek drove the Porsche at a suicidal speed out into the flow of traffic. Seeing a car start to follow, he groaned.

"Babe... stay low. Don't want them to see you." Looking in the rearview mirror, he could see that there were two cars. Cursing their flashy vehicle, he shook his head. "Why couldn't you have settled for a Volvo or something..."

A snort of derision was Dustin's only response as he hung on tightly, the wind ruffling his hair as he craned his neck to see what was happening to their pursuers. Traffic was still congested, although it was close to midnight, and Alex drove like a demon, cutting through cross streets, throwing the car into racing turns, and at one point, through a drive-in fast food joint, much to Dustin's slack-jawed amazement. Later, he was to admit that he just wouldn't have been able to put his car through the things that Alex did, but then, he wasn't afraid the way that Alex was.

Not then.

Krycek glanced back in the rear view as he peeled out of the drive-through. He'd gained some ground, but his pursuers were still on him. As long as they were in this car, he despaired of ever losing them. Way too flashy. He sighed, and headed onto the freeway. Even at this late hour, there was plenty of traffic.

Think, Alex, he shouted to himself. Think, think, think.

He swerved suddenly across four lanes of traffic, then wove in and out of cars in an attempt to lose their pursuers, or, failing that, to gain more ground. He came up upon a semi trailer truck, and smiled tightly. Maybe... he pulled out behind it at the last possible moment, passed it on the right, and swerved back almost directly in front of it, causing the startled and angry truck driver to blast his air horn and slam on his brakes. God, no, don't do that, buddy... Krycek flinched at the blaring noise.

Alex sped up a bit, to encourage the truck driver to speed up again, and looked over at his passenger, who seemed a little green. He smiled thinly, saying, "You ain't seen nothing yet." His smile vanished, however, as he saw two dark sedans on either side of the truck. "Dammit! Hold on!"

Dustin didn't need the urging. He was holding on so tightly that his knuckles were white, and he closed his eyes, and then reopened them quickly. If he were to die tonight, at least he'd know what killed him. He very much feared that it would be Alex.

Swerving back across the four lanes, Krycek caught his breath as he glanced through the rear view, dodging closely around the cars on the road, which all seemed to be driving as slowly as they could. Didn't they know this was life and death?

Coming to a break in the center-dividing rail, Krycek glanced across at the southbound lanes. Just as much traffic as on this side of the highway, but... wait a minute. Krycek slammed on the brakes again; seemingly bound and determined to cause a pile up. As the break in the traffic on the other side approached, he bit his lip. The sedans were approaching, no doubt wondering what he was doing. Taking his chance, he made a jackknife turn into the southbound lanes, succeeding, but just barely. He grinned tightly as he joined the flow of traffic, and saw in the rearview the sedans get brutally sideswiped as they tried impetuously to duplicate his maneuver. That'll take awhile to clean up... he thought with a grin.

He looked over at Dustin. "You okay?"

Dustin's face was set in a grimace of utter terror. There was the coppery taste of blood in his mouth from where he had bitten through his lip, and he was astonished to find that his pants were still dry. His mouth worked, but he seemed incapable of making a sound. Alex grinned and patted his thigh briefly, prior to peeling off the freeway and beginning a series of complicated maneuvers that were apparently designed to confuse everyone, including Alex. When the car drew to a standstill at last, Dustin merely sat, stunned, as Alex muttered, "Wait here," and disappeared into the darkness of an underground parking lot.

Alex walked down the row of cars, looking for one that was good, and easy to steal. He saw a nice black Volvo, and tested the door. Amazingly enough, the car wasn't locked. He figured the gods were smiling on him as he slid in and tossed the accounting books and the other necessities of a business student into the backseat. He grinned smugly as he drove the car back to where he'd left Dustin. He opened the passenger door, smiling invitingly.

"You weren't kidding, were you? A fucking Volvo! You really know how to bring a fellow down." Dustin climbed stiffly from his car to the passenger seat of the offending saloon, and pulled the door shut. "Okay, goddammit. Now what, Mr. Master Spy? I could use a bed. I'm completely shattered."

"That's what I'm thinking," Alex grinned. "And what's wrong with a Volvo? Best and safest cars out there, only... he frowned at the GPS readout on the dashboard. They don't know you're in this car. Come on, now, he told himself Still, Krycek was a man of instinct, and he disabled the gadget in short order. He looked at Dustin. "I'll take you to a motel, get you settled. Then I've got to do a few things."

He smiled, and drove to find a motel, looking instinctually for a modest one. He reached for his backup cell, the one most people didn't know he had, and punched in a number. When it was answered, he spoke to the person on the other end for a few minutes.

"I need you to come out to LA for a bit. Something's come up... what? Yes. Yes, it's important... it's Dustin. You've heard me talk about Dustin... tonight? That'd be great. Can expect you when? ... Excellent." He hung up, and turned to Dustin. "A friend of mine is coming out to watch over you while I go do a few things..."

"A friend?" Dustin suddenly stiffened. "What friend? Who are you talking about? I want to go home to bed. This is just plain stupid." He bit his lip and looked at Alex. The other man was still frowning, in a manner that Dustin didn't quite like. "Look, Alex, will you for goodness sake tell me what all this is about? I could probably accept it far easier if I knew what all the cloak and dagger stuff was for. We've been going around in circles for hours now, and I'm tired of it."

"Dustin... we can't *go* home. Don't know when we can. I'll tell you more when we get to the motel, babe. I just... sometimes there are things it's better not to know." And how the hell can I explain about CSM? He wondered. I can't admit I'm a...

He looked at Dustin. He still appeared exasperated, and Alex couldn't blame the man. "Look, I... my friend's name is Marita. She's nice... you'll like her." He pulled into a ratty looking motel and got out of the car, checking automatically to see if they were being followed. So far, so good.

Dustin was still pissing and moaning. He hung back in distaste, looking at the frankly shoddy motel that Alex had picked out.

"If you think I want to stay there, you've got to be kidding. Look at the place. It's probably got all kinds of infestations. I don't want to pick up scabies or worse just so you can play cops and robbers, Alex." He was furious. Fuck this man anyway. He'd inserted himself into Dustin's life as if he were welcome - a fact that Dustin found more and more irksome with every new event. Not only that, but he now was threatening to leave him in some ratty fleapit of a motel, and bugger off, leaving him with some scary female that he'd never met, but who he 'would like.'

Oh, no. Oh, nononono! Not on Alex's life.

Dustin stood, turned, and began to walk away toward the main street in search of a cab.

"Dustin!" Alex ran after him, catching him in his arms, turning him towards him. God... didn't he understand anything? "Dustin, pet... what is it?"

"Let me go, you fucker. You promised there would be no lies, and now you won't tell me the truth about what's going on. I won't stay there. Hear me? I won't." Dustin was utterly furious now. "Live with it."

Alex sighed, and hugged Dustin closer. "We don't have to stay here, pet. Okay? I promise, I'll tell you everything, baby. But don't you get it; your life is in danger? Look at me, baby. I will *so* tell you everything. Hey. I'll take you to a five star hotel. Old habits die hard; what can I say? Buy you a new house. In five different countries if you like. Just bear with me, love... I need you now."

Standing in the parking lot, Dustin stood, still braced against Alex's hold, fighting to understand the need for all the secrecy.

"I won't stay here," he repeated, as though he were attempting to maintain his level of anger. Suddenly all the fight went out of him. "Please, Alex? For God's sake, take me away from this place, and let me know just what's going on."

Alex smiled. That was better. He kissed Dustin softly. "All right. We'll go far... far. What's your favorite hotel, love?" He got back into the car. He knew that it had been a close call, but he loved Dustin more for it... he didn't just take orders blindly, the way Mackey had done. He found he liked that. "Baby, I'm sorry I got you into this," he said. "But I'll get you out, I promise." And myself, too, I hope.

Dustin climbed back into the car feeling slightly better for his outburst.

"We could go to the Roosevelt. That one's not too bad, and it's in downtown Hollywood so there will be plenty of crowds." Alex started up the car and Dustin heaved a sigh of relief. "Who is this broad you're so convinced I'm going to like, and why do I need a babysitter all of a sudden?"

Krycek drove towards the Roosevelt. "Marita is a - coworker of mine. I need to go talk to Mackey, find out why he told that bastard I was with you. Straighten this out before it gets any worse." He looked at Dustin. "I want her with you, to keep you safe. Just in case."

Parking when he got there, Krycek went in to get a room, not really sure about this. What if Dustin ran into someone he knew?

Dustin was beginning to relax at last as they parked the car on a street a few blocks away from the hotel, and as Alex took his arm to steer him onto the shadowy side of the street he didn't object, merely followed him away from the stolen vehicle without a murmur.

"Why can't I keep myself safe?" he asked softly as they walked back up to Hollywood Boulevard and the hotel.

"Because you don't know who to look for," Krycek answered just as softly. "Because they may try to trick you, and that can't happen. The men I work for are not forgiving. Let's just say I pissed them off, big-time, and now they're after me. There's more, but I'll tell you when we get there. Like yourself, I'm pretty beat."

Heading up to the suite that Alex had reserved, Dustin began to relax. He was tired and strung out, and he felt really jumpy. His lover was still beside him, but Dustin didn't have any idea how long that would last. Something told him that any time he had left with Alex was precious, and all of a sudden he felt vulnerable. A rush of emotion enveloped him and he pulled Alex to him to whisper, "I love you, Alex."

Alex pressed against him, grateful that Dustin seemed more relaxed. "I love you, too, pet. More than I can tell you. I can only hope to show you." He kissed Dustin gently on the cheek, and then opened the door of their suite. "Home sweet home... for now."

4: Out of the Frying Pan

Krycek walked into the suite, looking gratefully at the opulent surroundings. He noted a Jacuzzi and large bed. Man, was he tired! He walked over and flopped on the bed.

"C'mere, little cub. Let me hold you... let me love you." He was grateful Dustin seemed to have calmed down again. The boy was more mercurial than he first thought. He liked that. He bit his lip, hoping if he distracted Dustin enough, he wouldn't ask any tough questions.

Dustin sighed, and gratefully shucked his clothes, folding them neatly prior to stalking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it.

"Gonna tell me about it now, Alex, or are you gonna try and keep me under by fucking me? I need to know."

"C'mere and find out." Alex sighed, and reached over to stroke Dustin's back. "You're so beautiful, Dustin. Have I ever told you that?" He needed to tell Dustin, but god, he didn't want to. He wished Dustin would ask him a direct question. It'd be easier for him. Darned if he could resist Dustin's good looks, though. He pulled him closer.

Dustin sighed heavily, and lay down beside Alex.

"You say that I'm beautiful. It's all narcissism though, isn't it?" He offered his mouth to a kiss, and then pulled away and looked at Alex. "What are you afraid of, Alex?"

Alex kissed Dustin hungrily, and was hurt when he pulled away.

"Narcissism? No, pet... it's not" He tried to kiss him again, but Dustin pulled back, holding his gaze. "What am I afraid of? At the moment? Losing you, one way or the other. Just when I've found someone I can trust... to lose him. That's a scary thing."

"Word games, Alex. Tell me who threatens, and why you are afraid of them. Tell me where you came from. Tell me how I can help you, and what you're going to do. Don't leave me here, defenseless. If you love me, tell me." Dustin could sense the warring thoughts chasing through Alex's mind. If he would just give a little

"I'd never leave you defenseless, Dustin." Alex sighed. "Okay. I told you I was in Russia, sub to Sergei... he broke me. But I found a fire, a will to break away. It's what kept me alive on those long, cold nights when I hurt all over. Just as I thought Sergei was going to let me go, the man above me in the Consortium... killed him. Took me back to DC and he... picked up where Sergei left off." He knew Dustin would leave him now, and he rolled away, tensing.

"This man. He's the threat?" Dustin traced a forefinger idly down Alex's spine, from the nape of his neck with its dusky fine hair, down over the broad shoulders and strong back to the little patch of golden, silky hair that grew at the join of buttock to back. When Alex shuddered, he stooped to kiss the place.

"Why don't you kill him?" The inquiry was mild, and Dustin began to caress Alex gently as he asked his innocent questions.

Alex sighed. If he only knew...

"Do you know how many times I've tried?" Alex snorted. "He tried to kill me once... but now I think he believes death would be too good, if you know what I mean." He tensed under Dustin's touch, not feeling worthy of such kindnesses. Alex was usually the strong one, but he felt very weak now.

Dustin rolled him over and straddled him, running his hands over the broad chest.

"What am I to be aware of? Just what will this man do? He is only a man, after all." He stretched out over Alex, pressing his body against the man beneath. "Tell me how to act, Alex."

"'Act'? Dustin, what the fuck are you talking about?" Alex looked past Dustin's shoulder with a dark gaze. "'Aware of'? If I have anything to say about it, you and this man will never, ever meet. So don't worry about it." As Dustin pressed his body against him, Alex stroked his back and softened his voice. "I'll get away, pet. I will. Then you and I will be free... forever..." He pulled Dustin in for a kiss. "I just... every time I've tried... but my love for you... I feel I can do anything."

"Alex, don't you see, you're wiping it out of your mind and putting me at risk by denying me information." Dustin leaned to kiss Alex, trying hard to convey the urgency he was feeling. "I'm afraid, Alex. I don't want to be afraid. Let me help. At least let me know what's going on."

Alex tensed again. He wanted to tell him; hell, he needed to tell him.

"Will you still love me?" Alex asked, need and longing in his voice. "I'm afraid you won't want me if you find out about him. Because of what he uses me for... makes me do."

Dustin began to laugh. He couldn't stop. The things he had been through in the past day or so rose up before him, and he couldn't keep the laughter inside. He was aware that Alex was regarding him strangely, and that somehow made things even more amusing.

"I'm sorry. It's just that" he laughed again, fresh paroxysms that made his body shake. "Why don't you be honest with me, Alex? I was a liar once, and lost a lover. It cut me up then, but now I can see what she meant. Tell me the worst. Try me."

Alex pushed Dustin off him and rolled away. "How can you laugh, Dustin? This isn't something to laugh about." He sat up abruptly, looking at Dustin. "If you won't be serious about this... maybe I should just go... throw them off your trail and run far."

Dragging himself to his feet Dustin stood and looked at Alex. "No, don't bother," he said, coldly. "If you'd rather run out on me than explain what the problems are, I think I'll just go home and let things take their course. I hope you find someone who doesn't mind the mushroom treatment. Too bad, Alex. I really " He turned away and began pulling on his clothes. "I loved you."

"Dustin!" Alex panicked and fought for control. "No... Dustin. I need you. Need you so much... please. Come back. Come back... I'll tell you. I... I'll tell you, I promise. I love you. I'll love you even if... and... You can't go home, Dustin. They'll be... oh, god. Please don't leave me. I love you."

Dustin continued, methodically putting on his clothes. "You know why I feel like a mushroom, lover? You keep me in the dark, and you feed me shit. Would you care to remedy that?" He sat on the edge of the bed, and turned to face Alex as he fastened his shoes.

"Dustin... what do you mean? All I want is you. Stop. How can I remedy that?" Fuck it! He suddenly grabbed Dustin and threw him on the bed. "I won't lose you because of my foolish pride, or whatever. But you gotta... hell... come here." He kissed Dustin roughly, trying desperately to regain control of the situation, unsure when he'd lost it.

Dustin wanted Alex's arms around him, but if he gave in now, he knew that Alex would never respect him again, and that he probably wouldn't respect himself either. "One last chance," he managed, once he'd succeeded in breaking the kiss. "Tell me, you just tell me, please."

"Okay." Alex sighed raggedly. "He... he wants me to be... his pet. I am his pet. But I gotta break free. I can't live like this... I hate him, Dustin. I need to break away. There... I've said it. I'm running from my master. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Alex hung his head, ashamed. "Tell me what you want to know. What did you mean when you asked me how to act?" Alex looked at Dustin curiously.

"I want to know whether to turn and fight along with you, or whether to give in. I don't want to sit around and not know what kills me until it's too late and I'm dying. I want to be there for you, and I can't if you treat me like your lapdog. Give me a gun, Alex." Dustin flung himself down beside Alex again. "You don't have to be alone.

Alex smiled, remembering what Dustin had told him about the last time he'd held a gun. Still, he was flattered that Dustin would want to look out for him. No one else had ever looked out for him, and he had always pretty much been on his own.

"I just... you're my cub, Dustin. I don't want anyone to hurt you. But I understand... hell, in your place I'd feel the same." He bit his lip. "We are a pair, aren't we?" He looked at Dustin, an idea forming in his mind -- an understanding. One that he felt he could accept. "You want to be my partner... like a team?" he asked softly.

"I can't be with you and be less, Alex." Dustin relaxed against him for the first time since his phone had sounded earlier that night. "I know that you understand more, but you can teach me. I can defend you the way that you defend me."

Alex wrapped an arm around Dustin. "I... no one's ever... I've always been... I think I could learn to really like that, Dustin... and I hope... that you'll enjoy it, too." He'd seen little bits of predator in Dustin - it had turned him on. He wanted to see more. "I love you so much... I hope I can do this and not hold back, or be overprotective. Will you help me not to do that, Dustin?"

Dustin didn't answer in words, merely turning his face to Alex in that way he had, inviting kisses and more. Alex began to undress him yet again and Dustin allowed it, arching into his touch as he revealed each new patch of skin, offering it for worship by Alex's talented mouth and even more skilled hands.

Alex took Dustin's shirt from his shoulders reverently, aware of how close he had come to losing his love. He'd never loved anyone like this before. Dustin made all his other "loves" seem mere diversions. He licked Dustin's neck, the hollow of his throat, down to his collarbone. He moved lower, sucking at Dustin's nipples, teasing them as he moved to unzip Dustin's fly. "I - Oh... baby... you... please..." Alex mumbled around the smooth skin of his lover.

Alex couldn't think, and he didn't want to. He'd been on emotional roller coaster all night, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to lie safely in Dustin's arms. Yes, Alex Krycek admitted to himself, he wanted someone to take care of him at times. Someone who'd help him forget his fears and the world. Someone to be his rock. He sighed happily. "I feel safe with you, Dustin..."

Dustin held Alex tight. He knew that the victory he'd won that night was something that would always be with him. He kissed Alex again and again, offering his body in the only way he could think of to make amends. Spreading his legs wide and sluttish, he invited Alex to complete what had been so rudely interrupted earlier that evening.

"Love me, Alex. Fuck me, please."

Alex smiled. As he kissed Dustin, he felt strong again - Dustin moved under his touch, moaning and sighing. When Dustin had asked Alex to fuck him, it felt as though he were home again... he had his love, and his love needed him. He ran a hand over Dustin's ass.

"Yeah? You want me?" Alex asked teasingly. "Let me love you first." He realized he didn't have any lube at hand. He scooted down and began to lick at Dustin's asshole, first probing lightly with his tongue, then running it softly over Dustin's rosebud, teasing him and making him shudder before pressing lightly, gaining entrance and licking him out, first slowly and lightly, then more fervently. He took Dustin's weeping cock in his hand and began to stroke it.

"How do you want it, lover?"

"Hard I need it hard, please." Already, Dustin had raised his legs and was waiting for Alex to enter him. "That plug You were right. It keeps sending messages to me. It makes me want youwant it. In the car, earlier, it was incredible. If I hadn't been so scared of your driving I think I'd have come just from the sensations the engine was producing."

Alex moved swiftly between Dustin's legs, hoisting them up roughly and placing Dustin's ankles on his shoulders. He stared down at Dustin, darkly. "You look like a slut, Dustin. Do you know that?" He drew back his right hand, suddenly, and slapped Dustin's ass, hard.

Dustin snickered. "No shit, Alex? A slut, huh? I can be that for you." He pressed his heels down onto Alex's shoulders, bringing his pelvis up closer to Alex's face. "See this cock? This cock wants you. It needs you to stroke it. See it?" He wriggled enticingly. "And my ass? It's waiting, Alex. Take that little plug out and make me feel good."

Krycek yanked on Dustin's ankles.

"Mmm. There. I want you all tied up. You're being such a brat, Dustin. Not like you at all. You need to relearn some manners, my boy." Alex didn't know where this cheekiness had come from but it turned him on -- and off. He dropped Dustin from his shoulders, bent to pick him up and flipped him over, roughly. "I think I should take you... take you like this. Hands and knees, Dustin. My little slut."

There was power in this submission to his lover. Dustin could feel Alex's hands tremble as he positioned him, and he smiled, wriggling his bottom in a lewd gesture that made Alex gasp audibly. He reached back to part his own ass cheeks, offering himself to Alex like the slut he'd been named.

"Do you like what you see? Alex?"

"Fuck, Dustin..." Alex caressed his asshole lightly, then slapped Dustin again. "Slut."

He gripped Dustin's cock, feeling his anger at his uppity pet building along with the lust. "Don't talk back, boy." Alex felt into Dustin's ass, roughly pulling the butt plug out, growling as he did so. Taking his own cock in his hand, hard as it had ever been, he put the tip to Dustin's anus. He paused for a moment. No lube, dammit! But then his anger drove him on, and he grabbed Dustin's hips, drawing him back as he thrust himself into Dustin's asshole, holding him tight, before starting to thrust roughly. "You want it rough like this, slut?"

Filled! He was filled to bursting, and he knew then that Alex was in the palm of his hand. Alex craved him - craved this to a degree that was all consuming. Dustin was only just beginning to learn that all he would ever need to do to keep Alex was to offer himself like this. That thought alone helped him to bear the initial discomfort of Alex's unlubricated entry. As Alex began to move, his secretions, coupled with the grease that remained from their earlier session, assisted the flowering of sweet sensation. Alex ploughed him, rough and masterful, and he melted.

"Answer me, boy!" Alex slapped Dustin's ass, and thrust harder, while grabbing his cock roughly. He wanted Dustin to call to him to stop, to go easy, to hold him... or at least that's what Alex expected him to do. When he didn't, he thrust harder and faster, jerking Dustin's cock, as well. "You're just a slut, boy. That's all. Tell me how you love it."

He gasped, grabbing Dustin's shoulders and pulling him back, so he was almost sitting, and bit his neck and shoulders. "My slut..." He pushed harder, faster, trying to make Dustin cry out.

Dustin arched as he felt the heat of Alex's desire batter him.

"Fuck, Alex! Do it to me. I'm your slut. Do it!" He could feel himself coming, and there was no way he could hold it off. All he could do was ride it, as Alex fucked him.

Krycek scooped up Dustin's cum in his hand, bringing it to his pet's lips even as he kept thrusting.

"Here, slut. Drink this." He kept thrusting, an arm around Dustin as he felt his own orgasm fast approaching. Presently he shoved Dustin back down on the bed, and propped himself up on his hands for leverage. He bit Dustin's shoulder, then started fucking him as hard and fast as he could, seeming to slam straight through him into the oblivion of orgasm as he exploded deep inside Dustin. He gave one last thrust that he held, emptying himself all the way. He thrust a few more times, and fell onto his love, spent.

Gasping, Dustin lay, feeling the warmth and strength of his lover against him. After a minute or two, he groaned a little.

"Alex? Hey, you're kinda heavy " Dustin squirmed out from under Alex and rolled to put his arms around him. "God, that was good." He felt himself falling to sleep. The day had been wild.

"Good." Alex was tired from the afterglow and the stress of it all. He brushed a hand over Dustin's forehead as he felt himself drifting off towards sleep. "Pet? I didn't... hurt you, did I?" Oh, come on, Alex, he thought. You know you did... and you wanted to hurt him.

"Hurt me?" Dustin's voice was muzzy. "Not really. Love you" His voice trailed away, and he began to snore.

"Love you, too, babe," Alex husked, snuggling in and drifting off as well. "More than you'll ever know..."

Alex woke up the next morning feeling as though his body had been through World War III. The events of the previous night came back to him, and he glanced at Dustin. His body? What about Dustin's? He reached out to caress his love.

"Morning, baby."

Dustin awoke to find Alex blinking at him. He stretched, and everything started to hurt. What the - ?

Oh, yeah! He blushed. He'd been so damned eager last night

"Alex, hi." He felt his cheeks coloring up and writhed inwardly.

Alex stroked Dustin's cheek. "Are you okay, little cub?" He smiled. He wished he didn't have to leave Dustin this morning, but he had to see Mackey. He rubbed Dustin's shoulder gently. "I'm sorry if I got carried away last night." Treated him like Mackey, is what you did. The thoughts ran through his head, madly chasing each other. Now he'll get angry and leave, and you know you deserve it.

Blushing beet red, Dustin tried to turn his face away, imagining that Alex would be horrified at the way he had behaved.

"Guess you think that I was a little bit over the top last night, huh?" Dustin mumbled. "It's just that the fear and the ride, and the stimulation -- you turned me on so much, Alex." He lowered his lashes, veiling his eyes to hide the anxiety that he knew was shining there within them.

"I ..." Alex was at a loss for words. "I didn't mean to... do you so rough. I love you... yeah, last night ... but that's how my life is. I guess I have to let you choose, now that you know... whether that's a life you want." He tensed, waiting for the axe to fall.

Dustin laughed softly. Then he turned to wrap his arms around Alex, offering his mouth to be kissed, holding his breath as he waited for Alex to accept it, and him.

"Guess it's too late really," Dustin finally admitted. "I want you now. I want you however I can get you. Just don't hide things from me."

Alex smiled, a broad, genuine smile that touched his eyes.

"I... love you too, little cub. You know that... right? Couldn't be without you." He leaned in to the kiss, Opening his mouth, he devoured Dustin's, licking at his lips to part them, slipping his tongue in to caress Dustin's teeth and gums. He flicked his tongue over the roof of Dustin's mouth and drank his essence, wanting to have this moment forever.

Moaning as Alex claimed him, Dustin gave himself over to kisses that were deep and perfect, which made him shiver. He reached to touch Alex's cock, finding it filling rapidly as he took it in his hand and stroked it firmly, feeling his own cock swelling in response.

Can someone die from too much sex? Dustin thought to himself.

Alex licked his way down Dustin's chest, tugging at his nipples and rolling his tongue over them. Going down farther, he licked Dustin's navel briefly, then went still lower. Taking him in his mouth, he kissed the sweet head of his pet's cock, and then went back, to his rosebud, and began flicking his tongue over it, and in it. It was still tight after all it had been through.

"You can't get enough, can you, baby?" Alex husked.

For Dustin, this was bliss. Someone to love him, someone who cared about him, rather than about the work he could give them, was a treasure. Alex was creating sensations in him that he'd never felt, and he was becoming addicted.

"Enough? Is it possible to have enough, Alex? I need everything you can give me." He moved his hands down and spread his ass cheeks again, the way he had the previous night, groaning as Alex's tongue played in and around his asshole, while his cock rose to pulse and drip.

Alex chuckled. "Sweet baby..." The sight of Dustin's ass open for him - for him! - was too much for Alex. His cock leapt to attention, and he shifted his body, still licking Dustin out as he clambered to his knees, stroking himself. He put his cock at Dustin's entrance, then met Dustin's eyes. "Is this what you want, baby? Tell me what you want." He loved to hear Dustin say it... he stroked Dustin's balls to encourage his pet.

Touches like fire made Dustin whimper.

"Fuck me. Please, do it to me. I need you." He lay, wide open to this man who knew how to make him feel so good, and who said that he loved him. "Promise me that you'll keep on loving me? I really need you, Alex."

Keep on loving him? Alex couldn't see a viable alternative. He smiled, and twisted his hips, sliding into Dustin easily.

"Oh, my love, my cub..." As the sweet warmth and tightness of Dustin enveloped him, he leaned his head back in his ecstasy. "Oh, my sweet..." Alex began pumping slowly, but then sped up. He wanted to take his time loving his Dustin, but he couldn't... soon he'd have to leave. Still, he would enjoy the moment, and be thankful for what he had. He leaned down to caress Dustin's neck and face. "I need you, too, baby. You're my light... my reason to keep going..."

The familiar sensations began to fizzle along Dustin's loins as Alex stroked in and out of him, white and prickling lightning along the base of his spine, and the length of his dick. He didn't need much this morning, his cock spurting seed that splattered along his belly as Alex fucked him, and not even requiring a touch. His orgasm was sweet, and long, and easy as drawing breath. He gasped as Alex slid home inside him and mumbled a thank you.

Alex stroked Dustin's chest, on the verge of his own orgasm. He leaned forward, pulling Dustin up for a kiss, sweet and lingering, as he released himself deep inside his love. When he felt his cock hit Dustin's prostate, he grinned. It felt like... it was right, natural. Like he belonged there. After he came, Alex collapsed forward onto Dustin, cradling his head in his hands. "Sweet boy! My little cub. Believe me, I'd stay with you if I could. Just holding you like this... but we have much to do today, and Marita will be here soon."

Recovering from Alex's lovemaking was something to be savored. Dustin ached in every part of his body, and he still tingled from the orgasm he'd just had. He pulled Alex to him to kiss him, learning the texture of his face with eager lips.

"You do me so well. I don't know how I ever got by, Alex," he murmured, voice throaty with passion satisfied. "I'm learning things from you that I never knew existed were possible."

"Yeah?" Alex husked. "Maybe I can teach you more. Did you mean it, what you said last night... about wanting to be a team?"

"Of course I meant it. You know so much, and I know so little. I want to learn from you. I want to be worthy of you. I want to learn how to be yours, Alex." He veiled his eyes in a gesture that Alex was beginning to know, a gesture that was the only outward indication of an insecurity deep and well hidden.

Alex stroked Dustin's cheek and kissed him softly.

"Dustin... you are worthy of me. I can only hope to be worthy of you one day... now, listen to me. You can't be like me and show insecurity." Seems my hypocrisy knows no bounds, his inner thought jeered at him. He sighed. "Hell, Dustin... I love you and I need you so much. I'd -- I think I'd -- know, I know we'd make a great team. Marita will begin your training when she gets here." A few moments later there was a knock at the door. "That'll be her. I called her after you fell asleep." He smiled. "Just a second!" he called. Then, softly again, "Come on. Time to get dressed."

Heart sinking as he watched Alex, Dustin reluctantly crawled from the bed, a picture of dejection. It felt as though he was being passed off even though Alex had proclaimed his love. He wondered for a minute whether he would ever see his beautiful, fierce, look-alike lover again. Head hanging in despondency, he stumbled off to the shower, and then returning, began to get dressed.

Alex followed him into the shower, then dressed hurriedly, and, seeing Dustin's sadness, walked over to him, hugging him tightly.

"God, I love you, Dustin. Love you so much. But you're not ready to come with me, pet. Soon, but not today." He used his finger under Dustin's chin to make him raise his eyes. "I promise. Soon we'll run and play together. But not yet. You must be ready before you can do that, moi Dustina."

Reluctantly breaking the embrace, he walked to the door to admit Marita. "Hi," he said, smiling.

"Hello." She looked past him, at Dustin. " Well, I am impressed, Alex. You said he looked just like you, buthe looks just like you!"

Alex nodded. "That he does." He led her over to Dustin. "Dustin, this is Marita Covarrubias. You'll do as she asks in my absence. She'll be going to work with you, too." Alex knew he probably sounded officious to Dustin, but in his mind he was already at Mackey's, demanding some answers from him, then off calling in a few favors.

Dustin cast a glance at the icy looking blonde who had just arrived. As he surveyed her immaculate appearance, he felt lower than he ever had in his life. Alex - his Alex, that he had only just found, was giving him to this blonde.

Dustin felt sick. He nodded, and grunted a few words of greeting before sinking down on the edge of the bed disconsolately. It had been good, but it was obviously over.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Would you excuse us for a moment, Marita?" She nodded, and left the room. Alex went to sit beside Dustin. He wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in for another kiss with a sigh. "Now, Dustin, what's the problem here? Please... she's going to look after you. I'll be back this afternoon, so it's not like I'm leaving you forever. Or even for a day. Come on, pet. You know I'll have to be leaving you alone periodically. What's up?"

He kissed Dustin's lips, then followed the curve of his cheekbone with more kisses, all the way to his temple. "Come on, little cub. Smile. This will be a good thing! She's going to teach you to shoot. Take you to the rifle range. Show you some stuff. Just the basics, my sweet. I'll teach you more later. But now it's not safe for you. You need to learn quick, and I gotta tie up some loose ends. I can't do both at once." Repeating his kisses along Dustin's other cheekbone, he could only hope his pet would understand.

Leaning his forehead against Alex's cheek, Dustin tried to examine the feelings he was experiencing. Finally raising sad eyes to look at Alex, he swallowed.

"I love you, and I'm afraid. You're going into danger and all I can do is watch. Fuck," Dustin said, fiercely, "I don't even know what the danger is. All I know is that you're afraid, and that you won't share that with me." He leaned into Alex's warm embrace. "That's all I know."

Alex sighed. "That's... understandable. Look at me, Dustin. Here's your first lesson: sometimes the only thing standing between you and death is fear. You gotta listen to your fear, make it your friend and best ally. What are you afraid of, Dustin?"

He caught his breath. Dustin had perceived Alex's own fear... he wasn't sure he liked that. But as partners... maybe this was new to Alex. The only person he'd ever had a partnership with before was Marita, and she was already very capable and self reliant, independent. Their friendship had grown as an extension of their work, not the other way around.

There was definitely something to be said for listening to fear, though. "What is it you're afraid of, Dustin? That you'll lose me?" Searching his pet's eyes, he said, "You won't. I love you... please believe me that I wouldn't leave you alone for a minute if I could stay. But I have to do this, mostly to make sure you're safe, in fact. And to keep it that way. Please, please understand." He could only look at his pet, and hope that he would.

"Is it Marita that's bothering you? She needn't... she's been a close friend for several years as well as a coworker. Before you, the only one I could fully trust."

Dustin laid his hands against Alex's cheeks, holding him steady while he gazed at him, committing him to memory, just as if he wouldn't be able to look in the mirror and be reminded of him.

"It's not her," he whispered. "It's you. I'm afraid for you. If you leave me now, just when I've begun to love you, I think my heart will break. I didn't know until now just what it would mean to have a broken heart, but it hurts already to think about it."

He leaned in to kiss Alex, a soft whisper over his lips, a mere touch, barely perceptible. "Please don't get hurt."

Alex kissed Dustin's nose, just the tip - a gesture of false levity revealed by the way he veiled his eyes, drawing his eyelids down like a shade. Dustin brought out instincts and emotions in him he hadn't felt in as long as he could remember, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to be capable of them. He kissed Dustin's forehead.

"I'll certainly try not to. And... I've... never felt this way about anyone, either. I'm ... please, forgive me if I've behaved like an asshole. I just don't... know how to be." He pulled back, trying for real levity again. "Just... try to concentrate on your studies, and I'll be back before you know I'm gone. Promise." He kissed Dustin again, on the lips, slowly and tenderly, flicking his tongue out, seeking to deepen the kiss.

With a sigh, Dustin gave himself up to the kiss. There was really nothing he could do or say that would make Alex reconsider and take him along. He could see that. He concentrated on learning the taste, and the feel, and the scent of his lover, his master. His hands traced Alex's neck, his broad shoulders and ran across his back.

When the kiss ended, Dustin pulled away, hugging himself. "You'd better go. I don't do goodbyes very well. I don't want to blow my cool exterior here."

Alex smiled, but it was a flickering smile. "All right. You... you ... I love you." Before he could blow *his* cool exterior, Alex rose and walked to the door, opening it for Marita.

She sauntered in, turned to face Alex just inside the door and said, "I've got what we need." Seeing the look in his eye, she added, "Don't worry. I promise to guard him with my life."

Swallowing hard, Alex nodded. "Yeah." Swallowing, he stared past her for a moment, into the hallway. "He's a little... uneasy. Be... be good to him. Don't let any harm come to him." He swallowed again. "And please... be nice to him. Keep him at ease. He's... funny. Just, go easy."

Marita nodded, squeezing his shoulder. "I know what he means to you, Alex. He'll be ... I won't bite." She tried a smile, but it didn't work.

Alex shrugged into his leather jacket, looking at Dustin one last time. "I love you," he murmured, holding his gaze a few moments too long. He felt weak.

He swallowed, nodded to them both, and left before he could change his mind.

As he walked to the stolen Volvo, Krycek felt like his heart was in his shoes. He had a feeling this could get ugly, but he had to do it. He had to talk to Mackey. He knew Mackey was jealous, but the question was, was he jealous enough to want the Smoker to catch them? Was he jealous enough to put him in jeopardy deliberately? Alex wouldn't have thought Mackey had it in him to do so. Then again... he had mentioned the Smoker had hurt him. If so, that was Krycek's fault, too, if indirectly. He had to take care of Mackey, and find out what the Smoker knew -- and what his intentions might be, beyond the obvious.

Dustin sat, a bundle of misery, and stared at the carpet. He didn't want to move now. If he stayed still he could retain the feel and scent of Alex, and not feel as though he had to let him go. He hunched, focused inward, merely acknowledging Marita's presence with a nod. He just didn't feel like socializing right at this minute.

You, Dustin Yarma, are a hopeless case, he thought. A couple of nights and you're ready to give your soul away to a guy with questionable morals. The man killed for heaven's sake. He didn't ask any questions, he just blew Minnow away for money. So how come you feel like your puppy just got run over? Why do you feel as though you just lost your lover? Smarten up!

Marita looked over at him. Should she touch him, put her arm around him? She just didn't know. Well... she would if it were Alex. But he wasn't Alex. She split the difference and squeezed his shoulder lightly.

"Hey. Hey. He'll be back, real soon. He's told me all about you. He... you believe in him, don't you? He's good at what he does. He *will* be back." Although she had her own doubts, they came from a different place than Dustin's. They came from experience with the men of the Consortium. Yes, better that Alex went alone. But at what cost to himself?

She squeezed Dustin's shoulder again. "He thinks the world of you, you know. Believes in you completely."

He could hear her speaking, and knew that he was being rude, but somehow he just couldn't summon up the energy to respond. Way to go, Yarma! Your whole world has turned on its head in a couple of days, and you can't handle life any more? You're an adult, dammit!

Slowly, he turned to her.

"I guess it doesn't really matter anyway, does it? I have no say."

She sighed. He had it bad. She'd seen others like that around Alex. But this time was different. This time she knew Alex was just as devoted to Dustin as Dustin was - or at least appeared to be - to him. "He didn't want to leave you. You know that. He wanted to take you. We discussed it..." They hadn't, not that much, but she figured displacement of his anger might help. "I told him not to take you. He did want to, a little..."

Marita continued, "But I told hi ... no, I'm sorry. He also told me to be honest with you. Falling back into old habits." She looked away. "Sometimes lying is automatic." She turned to him quickly. "But he's not lying about his feelings for you. He loves you more than can be healthy. You're the moon and the stars to Alex Krycek. You should be honored..."

"What's going to happen to him? Where is he going?" Dustin felt so lost, sitting there on the bed with an apparently frail woman telling him things about his lover. They'd discussed him. He felt somehow dirty, as though he should have been a secret. "What else don't I know?"

"Let's start with the first two. He's going to Mackey's to try to find out what could have possessed him to tell the Smoker where the two of you were. He believes the information will protect you in the future, and help you hide now. What will happen to him?" She smiled. "I suspect he'll talk to Mackey, and then meet us at your work. That's what he said he'd do, was it not?" She got up to get a glass of water. She also brought one for Dustin. Sitting back down, she said, "Perhaps you should to tell me what else you *do* know. Hey, don't look so frightened. Alex will be all right."

"What do I know?" Dustin's voice was bitter. "I know that there's a jerk somewhere that has brutalized Alex until he's afraid of him to the degree that he assumes the bastard has superhuman powers. I know that Alex needs to break free of him, and that somehow involves my boss. Other than that, I'm totally at sea. Who is this jerk that scares him? Maybe you can put it into perspective for me."

Marita took a sip of her water.

"Okay. The man you speak of is evil. That's the only word for him. He likes pain, Dustin. Psychological as well as physical, and he's as master at both types of torture." She paused, as she remembered seeing Alex after he'd been in CSM's clutches and being in them herself. "He scares Alex because... well, you'd be scared too, the things he puts him through. And remember, it's the pain he likes, so he won't kill him. Although I know Alex wishes for that at times. Let me ask you this. Did he ever mention the gulag, or Sergei?" Seeing recognition in Dustin's eyes, she said, "What did he tell you?" She watched him over the rim of her water glass as she sipped, waiting for an answer.

Frowning, Dustin searched his mind for his lover's words. "Just that he was broken and then given to this jerk by Sergei Or maybe Sergei died and then this man took him. I don't remember. He said that Sergei hurt him all the time and kept him prisoner." Dustin looked at Marita, totally helpless. "He's not a prisoner. Why is he afraid? This is America."

Marita's face went blank and her voice toneless as she stared through Dustin, remembering. "He kept us prisoner in this place... a white place. Sterile. Did things to us... medical experiments... shatters you. Everything you were ever afraid of..."

Suddenly snapping out of it, she shook her head and gazed at Dustin directly. "Well, it's a moot point. The Smoker has Alex working for him now. And... more. The Smoker... he's evil, Dustin. Pray that you never meet him." Abruptly she stood up, and walked to the door. "Are you ready? I have much to teach you. Alex said you were pretty lousy with a gun."

With a low laugh, Dustin stood to follow her.

"I guess that it never seemed to be terribly important before. I work in the movies, not the Marines." Sighing, he walked out of the room where he had known the most happiness of his life, to learn to kill.

Marita looked over, smiling slightly. "You're in the Army now." She laughed bitterly. "It's not that hard. Come on."

Krycek parked the Volvo in Mackey's driveway and ran up the walk to the house, going around to the side door. Fucking Mackey! Okay, so maybe CSM had talked to the guy, but that was just talking. Burns? Alex had been through worse. The man really was a little wimp. He wondered why the Smoker had picked him for the Consortium, reminding himself that his weakness was probably the very reason that he had. He banged on the door, then tried it. Locked. Fuming, he finally opened it with his key, after fishing in his pocket for it.

"Mackey!" he yelled, running towards the bedroom. "Mackey, you idiot..." He saw a shape on the deck. Ah, yes. The only place for a man to brood. He rushed out there. "Mackey, you fucking idiot." He ran up to him, jerking his head back roughly by his hair, glaring at him.

Karl Mackey was a sorry sight. As he looked at Alex from the one eye that was not swollen closed and weeping, he had an expression of such sorrow on his face that anyone's heart would have been moved. He didn't cry out when Alex grabbed hold of him, he merely stood, limp in the other man's brutal grip.

"Hello, Alex. Have you come to kill me? I wanted it to be you. I'm ready." He hung his head.

"Death's too good for you," Krycek growled. Then, seeing Karl, really seeing him as the sun shone through a cloud, his eyes filled with concern. "Oh, Karl..." He loosened his grip, and pulled Karl close to him. He and Karl had been through a lot together, and Krycek did feel affection for him. He kissed Karl softly. "Oh, moi Karl... what did he do to you?" Karl had obviously put up more of a fight than Alex had thought. He stroked Mackey's hair gently, because he still needed answers. "Tell me... tell me everything."

Tenderness did for Mackey what pain and intimidation had failed to do. He began to cry on Alex's chest, great hiccupping sobs through which he couldn't speak coherently. Alex let him cry, murmuring soothing noises as he held him gently.

"He was going to burn out my eyes. I'm sorry, Alex. I couldn't. I just couldn't." Karl's voice deteriorated into sobs once more.

"It's okay, Karl. It's all right." Soothing arms slid gently around to pet him, though part of Krycek longed to squeeze tight and shatter the man. What point, when he was already shattered?

Alex kissed him. "Tell me what you told him, Karl. And what he said to you. It will be okay. You'll go to work. It'll be okay." Krycek turned Karl's face up, seeing the regret and guilt in the other's eyes. "Thank you... thank you for not giving me up right away." Within himself, He still thought Mackey's betrayal had to do with Dustin. He knew Mackey had been jealous.

"He kept on asking me where you were. I told him I didn't know and that you hadn't been near. He told me I was a liar and that he'd seen you here." Mackey sniffed, and winced as tears stung the burns on his face. "He said that you would stop loving me when I was blind. I was going to let him do it, but it hurt so much. When he asked me the last time where you were right then, I told him Dustin's house, and then phoned you to warn you." Mackey sniveled and took Alex by the hand, leading him inside to find a drink.

Krycek followed, squeezing Mackey's hand reassuringly. In much the same fashion as the Smoker before him, he asked questions in a tone that sounded concerned yet disinterested. But hearing Dustin's name put him instantly on alert. "Dustin? What did you tell him about Dustin, Karl, hmm?" He stroked the side of Karl's face and kissed the man again, helping him to pour the drinks. "And did the Smoker say what he needed me for?"

"He didn't tell me anything, except that he needed to find you. He told me you were in danger, and it was urgent that he contact you. I" Mackey took a drink of the neat scotch he had poured himself. "I believed him, Alex. He said that you were going to be killed. I didn't tell him anything about Dustin, just that you were at his house. I didn't know anything to tell him, Alex."

Mackey tossed off his liquor, and poured himself another large tot.

"I would've died for you, Alex. I still will, but that was different."

Krycek's hand shot out and across Mackey's face, knocking the glass from his hand.

"You fucking believed him," Krycek spat. "And you didn't know anything? What the fuck is that? You knew everything!" He shoved Mackey against the bar, hissing in his ear. "Have you got it in for me now, Mackey? Are you trying to get me killed? Or Dustin? Is that what this is about?" He snorted in derision. "I bet he told you he's my father, too. Said all kinds of pretty things to make you believe." He stared at Mackey with fury and contempt.

Mackey stood, face averted from the blow, but made no attempt to protect himself. His face was serene. Alex was going to end him, and that would be enough.

"I didn't tell him for that. You asked me what he told me. That's what he told me. I held out until he went to burn my eyes with his cigarette. I see no shame in that. I've told you I'm sorry. I failed you." Mackey bent to pick up the fallen glass, and refilled it, sipping this time. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Knowing he'd lost his cool, Alex took Mackey into his arms again.

"No, pet, I'm sorry." He rubbed Mackey's back. "I could never ask you to sacrifice your eyes for me. I'm a selfish bastard to even think it." He shook his head, and started over. "Well, what's done is done. All we can do now it hope to put it right, pet."

He pulled Karl closer, hugging him tenderly. "My poor, poor baby. He'll pay for that, you know. If I can... come, let's sit." He led Karl to the couch, helping him to sit down, and then broke off a piece of an aloe plant, rubbing the soothing juices into Mackey's face with much tenderness. "Poor baby... we need to get you fixed up so you can go to work." Krycek was still seething inside, but kept it under wraps. He was angry at CSM for using Mackey, far more so than he was at Mackey himself.

How dare he do that to one so submissive? Which was precisely why, of course. And he, Krycek, had finished his training so nicely, ensured he'd just roll over and dribble piss when pressure was applied.

Krycek scowled in self-disgust. He'd been played for a fool all along. Cursing in Russian, he got up and headed to the bathroom, looking for some concealer makeup. Not finding any, he came back out. "I'm going to go to the drug store for some stuff. I'll be right back. Stay put." Krycek headed out the door to the Volvo.

Krycek drove off to the store, hurriedly selecting concealer in several shades. He also got a compact of blush and eye shadow, some talc, triple antibiotic ointment, hydrogen peroxide, and a box of cotton balls. After waiting in a checkout line that seemingly never moved, he got back into the Volvo and retraced his route to Mackey's.

He slipped in the side door again.

"Here we go," Alex said, breezily, setting out his purchases on the coffee table and turning on a floor lamp next to the couch. "Now then, it's a good thing I did makeup for that Halloween pageant we did in college, isn't it?" Alex asked with a grin. He went to tilt Mackey's head to the light, unscrewing the hydrogen peroxide and taking out a cotton ball.

Relaxing under Alex's competent hands, Karl permitted himself to dream that his caressing hands were only for him, and that his adoration was to be rewarded. The sting of the peroxide was sweet, because it came from Alex's fingers. When he smeared the ointment onto his poor burned nose and eyelid, Karl sighed at the sensuality of the touch. He was almost asleep, purring with the ecstasy of being stroked when Alex began to apply the covering foundation. He didn't hear the slight footfalls that heralded the entry of others. It was only when Alex exclaimed that Karl broke from his reverie to find that there were armed men in his living room.

Alex barely scooted back, though he was tensed for fight or flight. When he spoke, his voice was icy calm.

"Yes?" He looked for the Smoking Man, but he didn't see him... wait a minute. There it was - the cigarette smell. He wrinkled his nose, shivers of fear working down his spine. He resolved not to show it, though. "May we help you?"

Mackey looked at the circle of unsmiling men. "What the hell are you doing in my" A large man in fatigues jammed the butt of his gun into Mackey's mouth, splitting his lip, and making bright blood pour from it. Mackey coughed, and fell back onto the couch.

"Get up," said the man to Alex. "It's time to go."

Alex wasn't going back to the Smoker if he could help it. Biting his lower lip, he thought as fast as he could. The Smoker had probably told them not to kill him.

He stood, graceful as a cat, and edged toward the side door. "Sorry, boys, but I've got a prior engagement." When they moved to cut off his escape, he laughed nervously. "Hey, c'mon guys. Don't I get a last phone call?"

Dustin... Dustin. Dustin, he screamed inside.

Suddenly, he lashed out at the nearest gunman, struggling as best he could, trying to disable him. In his blind rage he forgot about the others, and the Smoking Man, losing himself to the single intent of beating this one minion senseless. "No! You can't have me! I'm free now! Free!"

As Mackey watched, horrorstricken, Alex was clubbed mercilessly, finally falling to the floor. The men gathered around him, and Karl saw more than one boot drive into Alex's back as he lay unmoving on the floor. Mackey stood, intending to go and throw himself into the melee that surrounded his lover, but a sharp blow to the back of his head felled him, and he remembered no more.

Pain. Krycek felt pain coming from everywhere. He rolled, but it was inescapable. He raised his head, calling out for Mackey with his eyes, but then he was kicked again, and fell back. It was no use. He tried to stand, to defend himself, but he couldn't. He lay there. Where was the Smoking Man? He smelled him. When his ribs began sending him urgent messages of pain, he closed his eyes.

Dustin... he'd think of his sweet, sweet Dustin. Dustin would keep him safe... as his consciousness faded, he felt Dustin wrap an arm around him, and whisper to him that he loved him and would never leave him.. but then Dustin's face melted to a death mask.

Right before he slipped away, Alex breathed, "Little cub.... keep him safe... gotta keep... little cub..."

When Karl Mackey awoke, his head throbbing and his torn face stiff, he crawled to his knees, and moved to where he had seen Alex lying.

Alex was gone.

Dustin had fired guns until his ears rang despite the ear defenders Marita had insisted he wear. He thought that his aim had improved a little by the end of the session. When Marita had told him she was going to teach him how to fight, he had scoffed. She was a slight, willowy blonde, but even though he towered over her, she had trounced him thoroughly. He was now feeling very chastened, and although he sat at his desk, he couldn't concentrate.

He wanted to hear from Alex. When the phone rang, Dustin almost knocked it off his desk in his eagerness to pick up.

Mackey was unable to speak for a moment. How could he tell Dustin what had happened? After a pause and some ragged breaths, Mackey softly said, "They've taken him. Came in with guns, knocked us out. Woke up, he was gone... I'm so sorry, Dustin. I told him he should kill me, but he didn't. I don't know what to do. I need to find him... we gotta get him back."

Karl sniffled, trying to think of what to say next. What he said might not have been the wisest thing, but he couldn't live with the burden. He had to get it off his chest. "I... one other time they took him, I saw him... after. We've got to find him." Karl's voice was racked by painful sobs, and he tried to say more but could only moan piteously.

"Dustin? Help me find him?"

Fear iced Dustin's balls as he listened to Mackey's babbling.

"Damn it, Karl! You're lying to me." He stood, and screamed the words at Karl, the CSM, the whole world. "You're lying!"

Marita, who had been out in the main work area, heard the anguish in his voice and came running to find out what had happened. When she reached Dustin's office, he was impotently punching the desk, tears running down his face. Marita stood over him, and waited. The face he raised to her was full of anguish.

"They took him."

Marita went to him.

"Oh... no. God," Marita murmured as she hung her head. She had been afraid this would happen. Afraid for Dustin... and for Alex. She knew it wouldn't be long before they came after Dustin. She looked at him, kindly. "When? Where? What happened?" She placed a hand over his, crouching beside his chair, trying to soothe him. "Who was that on the phone?"

"That was my asshole boss, Karl Mackey." Dustin's voice was flat, dead, as he spat out the words. "He stood by and let my Alex be taken away." He sank his head into his hands. "Now what do I do? I can't live without him. Not now that I've found him."

Marita sighed. Mackey... damn. "He was the one who...?" Damn. Why, Mackey? "Well, I'm sure he didn't stand there... he loves Alex, too, as you know... yes?" She sighed. "We have to find him, Dustin, and quickly." She swallowed. "He... the Smoker... Alex..." Her own voice choked with fear for her friend. "We need more information. Do you know where Mackey lives?"

She had to run to keep up with his lope, when Dustin seized her elbow and hustled her out of the office, barking over his shoulder to the long suffering Suzanne to cancel everything as he went. His car was waiting for him in the lot. He'd gone to collect it that morning on the way to his lessons in inadequacy, and a little pride surfaced as he ushered Marita to the passenger's seat.

"Oh, yeah. I know where he lives, all right!"

"How far is his house?" she asked.

"It's in Malibu. A few miles is all. Don't worry, I'll get you back in time for dinner." Dustin swung the car through the intersection and down a side street as he attempted to avoid the hell of early evening traffic in downtown Hollywood.

"Dinner is the last thing on my mind," Marita said crisply. "Listen. How much do you know about Alex and Mackey?"

"All I know is that Mackey was happy to suck him off yesterday, and when Alex told him to take me up the ass, he loved it. How, and why, I have no idea." Dustin glared at her, and his face took on a frightening anger. "What do you know? Tell me."

"Dustin... remember what I said about..." She thought for a moment. "This is hard to explain. Okay. When you're with Alex, do you ever get the feeling you're dealing with... two people, almost?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, gauging his response. "Like there's... a part of himself he keeps hidden?"

"There's a lot he hasn't told me, but I never thought that Alex seemed like two people, no. He's just a complex man." Dustin was driving fast as he spoke, and finally, they turned onto the Malibu road.

Marita smiled. "Well, that's good. He's been doing a lot better, which is one reason..." She stopped that train of thought. "He is complex. I admire him, a lot. Anyway, Mackey is ... he was... part of the training... no. You know, I'm not so sure I understand it myself. How they started. I do know that the Smoker encouraged it... and he likes it if Alex hurts him." She sighed. "It all goes back to the Smoker, it seems."

Dustin shuddered. This nebulous monster that hung over them all was beginning to scare him, but more than that, he was pissing him off.

"Let's see what Mackey has to say about it, shall we?" He turned the Porsche into Mackey's driveway, and screeched the tires to a standstill. "Are you coming?"

Marita glanced at Dustin. "Of course I'm coming. If nothing else, to make sure you don't do something we'll all regret. She'd noted the set of his jaw and was very glad, suddenly, that she'd had him unload his gun that afternoon. She knew that look, having seen it on Alex enough times. He was angry enough to kill.

Karl Mackey, pathetic movie mogul, sat on his deck, watching the waves crash against the shore. Lately it seemed all he could do was watch the sea. He tried to divine the messages it might be sending him, but he gave up and went back inside the house to get another scotch. He wondered how he could have been so careless.

He was close to drunk, and his head swam as he downed another glass of liquor. How could he have allowed them to take Alex? How could he have stopped them? His heart was heavy as he contemplated the empty bottle.

Dustin's sudden entry into Mackey's living room ought to have been a shock, but Mackey had been waiting for it since he'd finally screwed up the nerve to phone him. He stood, a forlorn figure, drooping beside the shelf where the liquor was kept. As Dustin strode towards him, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head.

Storming towards Mackey with his fist raised, Dustin was ready to strike the man he saw as the cause of all his problems, until he saw the injuries that Mackey had received. In confusion, he lowered his arm.

"What the hell happened, Karl?"

Mackey slowly raised his face to look at the man who had taken his love and that looked just like him. His mouth opened, but he could not speak.

Marita stood beside Dustin, ready if he should lose his cool.

Mackey looked at Dustin, then dropped his gaze. "Hit him. Kicked him. He was helping me and I lost him. They beat him... I should have lost my eyes rather than give him up. They took him... my fault. I gotta find him. Need him so badly..." Mackey looked up at Marita. "You know... you know..."

Marita nodded, and moved to put a hand on Mackey's shoulder. "I know," she agreed, meeting Dustin's querying gaze with one that sent chills down his spine. "I know. We'll find him. I have an idea. But you... you two talk for a bit. I need to make a phone call." It looked like Dustin wouldn't attack the man, after all.

Dustin had slumped down on the floor beside Mackey, and was now holding the other man's shoulders.

"What the fuck have you done to yourself, Mackey? You look like shit. Who took him, and where have they taken him?" Releasing Karl, he shoved him roughly backwards.

"Why are you still here?"

"Hurt... hurt all over." Karl fell backwards, clambering back up to his knees with difficulty. He stayed there, head hung low. "Didn't... do anything. Alex was trying to fix it. Then... they came. He was with them. The one who smokes those cigarettes? He said he wouldn't hurt Alex, but he lied... he hurt him..." Karl emitted soft, spasmodic sobs. "You're going to kill me. Good... get it over with..." He sniffled. "I've betrayed the only man I've ever loved. Who ever loved me. Please, make it quick... I deserve it."

"Kill you?" Dustin turned away from him in disgust. "I'm not going to kill you. You deserve to live to see what they've done to him. Get up!" He went to sit on Mackey's couch. "Alex gave you to me. You're going to wish he hadn't."

He looked around for Marita, and failing to see her, turned back to Mackey. "For goodness sake, do something about your face, Karl. You'll frighten children."

Karl tried to stand, but was unable to as the words Dustin spoke caressed his mind. 'Alex gave you to me.' Despite himself, despite wanting to hate this man who had taken Alex away, who days ago was a mere employee, an imposter to Alex's good looks, he felt himself get hard. He imagined Dustin taking him from behind and twitched at the thought. It had been so good the other day... he crawled over to Dustin, putting a hand on his knee and bowing submissively.

"Please, please." Dustin was his master now, and he would make everything all right.

Marita was in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of bottled water, waiting for the call she'd made to be picked up. That bastard... keep cool, you've got to play this just right, she thought. She replaced the water in the fridge just as the phone was answered.

"Speak." The word was cold, the voice dry and impersonal. The sound of a lighter clicking followed, filling the silence that stretched out.

"I hear you found your favorite agent," Marita said. "I know how long and hard you worked to get him. Congratulations." She fought down a lump of bile in her throat. "As you requested, I'm keeping an eye on the other." The lie rolled off her tongue easily. A spy who couldn't lie well was a sorry person indeed. "He hasn't been out of my sight. Shall I stay on here to keep you posted?" She waited to hear his response.

"Tell me about this this 'other', Miss Covarrubias. Is he as much like Alex as I'm told?" The Smoker's voice wormed its way into her fears, igniting tremors that threatened to spill over into her speech.

"He's identical. I know that I'm impressed." She paused, licking her lips as more silence ensued.

"I'd like you to bring him in, please. I want a look at him. I'm finding Alex a little tiresome. Oh, and Marita? Bring Mackey with you. I can use him." The click of disconnection was sudden and annoying. Closing her phone, Marita paused, brow furrowed as she pondered the problem of how to help without blowing her own cover.

Fuck if I will bring them in. Mackey maybe, but not Dustin. Wait a minute... She put a hand to her lips as she thought. Mackey knew the CSM. This might work... She went back into the living room to tell Dustin and Mackey her plan. Seeing Mackey groveling in front of Dustin, she rolled her eyes. He was enough to sicken the worst sadist. Or was that a contradiction in terms?

"Where did you go?" Dustin's voice was flat, as though he didn't care. He sat on the couch, one hand idly stroking Mackey's hair as he waited. "I don't know what to do, how to find him. Do you?"

Marita smiled at them. "I may have a way. I just called the Smoker, pretending to be on his side." She squatted beside Mackey, speaking soothingly as she stroked his shoulder. "Karl, you may be the key to saving your master's life yet. Would you like that?"

Still sobbing, Mackey nodded, his unswollen eye brightening a little as the sobs subsided. "H - how can I help?"

Marita took his hand kindly. "Go to the Smoker. He asked for you. Go to him in DC, and pretend you want to hurt Alex, to get revenge on him --."

At this, Mackey looked like one of those cartoon characters who've run off a cliff at the moment they realize the ground's run out but before they fall to earth.

"Hurt him? Nonono... I could never hurt Alex!" he started to sob again, and leaned into Dustin's leg. He'd never liked Marita.

Marita looked over Mackey's head, meeting Dustin's eyes and rolling her own. "I didn't say you *would* hurt him, Mackey. Just... tell the Smoker you will. So he'll let you see him." She looked from him to Dustin. "Get it?" She paused to gather her thoughts. "While you go back, Dustin and I will stay here, in a safe house, getting it ready for Alex's return. He'll need some TLC once he gets back."

She looked at Dustin. "I'm going to go arrange a house for us. I can tell Mackey still doesn't quite get it... but you do, and you can explain it better than I can." She gave Mackey's shoulder a last squeeze, and stood up. "If you don't trust me, trust Dustin, all right?" She stood, and began walking towards the door. "Best we get out, and fast. And a plane ticket for Mackey..." A further thought occurred to her and she turned back to Dustin. "If Karl is going to DC, he can't know where you and I will be."

As Marita left, Mackey laid his head on Dustin's knee, and sobbed. Dustin sighed, and pushed him up.

"Get up, Karl. Get up here. I need to talk to you." The injured and sorry looking man stumbled to sit beside Dustin on the couch, his face battered and bruised but hopeful as he sat expectantly.

Dustin sighed. This was going to be tough.

"Karl, you're the only one who can help him at the moment. I need you to go to him. You can pretend. You can protect him. Dawning comprehension rose in Karl Mackey's eyes. Dustin smiled at him. "Yeah? You've got it, Karl. You'll help him, won't you?

"I love him, Dustin. I - I'll do anything for him. Die for him, if I have to. Just... just... " He wrapped his arms around Dustin. "I'm afraid I'll mess up again. But if I don't... I'll do it," he said determinedly. "I'll go, and get Alex free."

He looked at Dustin gratefully. The man had shown him how to save his love. He kissed Dustin, remembering the feel of Dustin's cock inside him at Alex's bidding. They had been so good to him, maybe... Mackey felt his cock growing hard, and he smiled. He moved to the floor in front of Dustin on his hands and knees, offering himself. He spread his legs sluttishly, and half lay, half sat on the rug, his ass in the air. "Dustin... Dustin. Thank you. Please... please fuck me, Dustin." His cock strained painfully against the fabric of the trousers he wore, and he hoped Dustin would take him soon, and hard the way Alex would have done.

Reluctantly, Dustin reached for Karl Mackey, wondering if he'd somehow fallen down a rabbit hole as he contemplated his needy boss. This was something that he hadn't anticipated. Idly, he wondered whether Mackey came with an owner's manual. The thought was almost enough to set him giggling, and he schooled his face into sternness.

"Get your clothes off, Karl." Dustin looked at the sorry man groveling before him; uncertain whether he'd be able to satisfy Mackey's need for humiliation. Well, he would try.

Mackey eagerly looked up at Dustin. "Yes, master Dustin." He'd felt his cock twitch as the words came out of Dustin's mouth. Not Alex, no... but oh how he wanted to believe. He did as he was told, ripping his shirt off, and quickly unfastening his belt, passing his trousers and briefs over his hips. When he was naked, he got into position before Dustin, in the sluttish attitude Alex liked so well.

"Dustin, please... please." He hoped Dustin would be as cruel and savage as Alex was. Maybe then, for a while, he wouldn't see Alex before him, tortured for something that had been no fault of his own. "Touch me, fuck me, Dustin... please. I need to feel you."

Dustin felt fury rising in him. This little worm actually thought that he could replace Alex? That was ridiculous. It was unthinkable. He struck Mackey's backside, raising a satisfying five-fingered welt on the pale flesh, while Mackey moaned and writhed.

It was too much for Dustin. He pulled down his zipper and lowered his boxers just enough to release his straining, angry cock, and took hold of Mackey's hips, forcing himself into Karl past the barrier of muscle at the opening of his anus. As Mackey moaned, Dustin began to fuck him.

Karl thrust back onto Dustin's cock, hard. Dustin wasn't Alex so maybe he could get away with that demand for more, but part of him hoped not. Somewhere his mind revolted, telling him this was Dustin Yarma, not Alex Krycek... yet Krycek had given him to Yarma. He moaned as Dustin's speed increased, gasping. The man was nowhere near as good as Alex had been, but with a little help... That decided, Mackey bucked his hips.

"Please, Dustin, yes. Oh yes, Dustin. That feels so nice." He rolled his hips and looked back at Dustin's face, hoping Dustin would hit his ass like that again.

Never Alex. But yet...

Dustin was at a loss. His mind whirled with pain, and lust, and fury, and finally he raised his fist and began to pound on Karl as he pounded into his ass.

"You let him go! You let them take him. Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!"

Mackey seemed to grow more excited as Dustin struck him, and in the end, Dustin found himself using his open palm to hit Karl over and over as he ploughed into him. His cock felt over sensitized, and he didn't think that he would come from this. He felt like a god, his cock a weapon with which to punish. He did not feel happy, or complete, or aroused.

Truth to tell, he was horrified.

When Mackey finally groaned and came with a cry, Dustin removed his dick, still unspent, and replaced his clothing without saying a word.

Karl felt deflated. Just as he'd been feeling his new master grow harder, he had pulled out. Mackey's ass was tender and raw, needing more. He knew Dustin hadn't come. How had he failed?

Disconsolately, he crawled over to where Dustin stood, fastening his trousers. With a soft whimper he put his palm over Dustin's dick, looking up at him in pure supplication and hurt. "Please, please. I can do it better. Please, let me bring you off. Let me finish you." He licked his lips suggestively, putting his mouth against Dustin, mouthing his cock through his trousers. "Please, Dustin... let me please you... He lowered his eyes, and hung his head, a kicked puppy. "Please..."

If he failed to please Alex's love, he knew Alex would never come back to him, no matter what.

"Please..." a dejected plea, coming from deep inside Mackey who felt so worthless, so hopeless, so lost. Lost without his lover... he knew he'd done wrong.

Dustin contemplated him without saying anything for a minute that seemed to stretch for hours. What could he do with this pathetic person who seemed to bear no resemblance to his boss? Finally, he grabbed Karl by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

"Mackey," He put his arms around Karl with an inward shrug, cradling Mackey against his chest. "Come on now. You don't have to be like this. You're concussed. You need to see a doctor. Let's get you to the hospital and taken care of. You'll be no good to Alex if you have a stroke or something, will you?" He rubbed Mackey's back and shoulders. "It'll be okay, Karl. You don't have to do this. We'll get him out."

Karl sobbed against Dustin.

"I... I need Alex. Where is he? Not supposed to be like this... not end this way, not... no... no hospital, please. Marita says I have to go back to DC if I want Alex back. I don't have time for the hospital."

Dustin was more right than he knew - a particularly hard blow to Karl's head had rendered him confused; in fact, the man had a concussion, and was suffering from shock.

"No, please, just tell Alex that I need him," Mackey pleaded. "Want to find 'im. Ask Dustin if he'll help me, and Marita."

"Come on, Karl." Dustin pulled the still sobbing man against him. There was something wrong here, and he was uneasy. If anything happened to Karl, where would Alex be? "Let's go. We'll find Alex in a few minutes, but first, you have to see a doctor. Alex needs you to see one, do you understand?"

He dragged the dazed Mackey after him, out towards his car.

Mackey stumbled after Dustin, trying not to black out again. The day had been too much for him. "Okay, okay... just... tell Dustin I'm sorry. He'll kill me if I don't get to Alex... Alex... tell Dustin I'm looking... gone to look..." He slid into the car, and his head lolled to one side. "Feel sick, oh God... where's Alex...?"

Pounding the wheel in sheer frustration, Dustin surveyed the sorry state of his boss. "Hang in there, Mackey. It's gonna be all right." He picked up his cellphone and called Marita to tell her what had happened after her departure, and then sighed heavily.

All right for you, Dustin thought, but not for Alex. He wanted to curl up in a tight ball and cry for his lover. Instead, he put the car in gear and drove Karl down to the hospital to get him checked out, and to await Marita.

The old house in Falls Church, Virginia had seen many people come and go. It had seen some who had arrived, and never departed again. C. G. B. Spender sat at his desk, working on a file that was spread across it when the phone shrilled, deafening in the quiet of the office.

"Your package has arrived, sir." The brusque voice made Spender smile, and he flicked the gold lighter to ignite the latest of a million cigarettes, and then contemplated the inscription on the side.

'To Charles, with love from Alex.'

Rising to his feet, he issued instructions that his 'package' should be taken directly to the laboratory, and then replaced the phone gently.

Krycek awoke in a sterile smelling, horrifyingly familiar room. He looked up, and saw the oblique glass of a viewing theater. Oh, great...

He choked, and turned his head from side to side. He was alone! Alex tried to get up from the table, but he was lashed down. They'd taken his arm - he could see it lying like a dead, bloated fish on the table a few feet away. It was then he realized he had an IV in his arm, and an EKG monitor on his body.

Heart speeding up, he tried to pull free. He was in the process of trying to rip the IV line out of his arm with his teeth when he heard a familiar cough. Undaunted, Alex tugged at the line, trying to jerk it out.

A hand seized his hair, jerking his head back, roughly.

"Come, come, Alex. You wouldn't want to put my poor nurse to the trouble of having to re-insert that, would you? Where are your manners?" As Spender walked into Alex's field of vision, the smile he wore was not pleasant. Alex's heart skipped as he recalled other times when the old man had smiled that smile and then he realized that Spender was still speaking. "But you must be far too warm, Alex. Let me get you comfortable.

His nemesis drew a knife and began cutting Alex's clothing from his body. Soon, he lay naked and exposed.

Alex had gasped as the knife almost cut his flesh in a few places. If it had been Dustin holding that knife, the pain would have been exquisite. Thoughts of Dustin had been the glue holding him together through the trip here, and now... he looked at the Smoker, murder and hate in his eyes.

"Let me go, you bastard. I won't be yours anymore!" He bucked uselessly on the table, but Krycek was not a man to lie quietly. Cursing in Russian, he tugged again at the IV line. "Get this out of me. I'm not yours."

"How soon you forget, my Alex," purred the old man. "Of course you're mine. It's always so sad when my toys are broken, but I'll do what I can to repair you." He leaned down to press a line of kisses over Alex's face.

"Such a very pretty face. How sobering to think of the ease with which it could become spoiled." The knife trailed down from Alex's chin, over his chest, circled his navel, and then delicately scraped along his penis. "We should commence repairs immediately."

Krycek had shut his eyes against the pain, drawing in a ragged breath when the knife reached his penis. "You know what, old man?" he muttered. "I found out something about love. It was an epiphany. What I realized was this: even if you take someone as pet, and 'own' them that way, the only real connection -- truest love -- you have is if they own you as well. I never owned you, did I? But my new pet... he owns me as much as I do him. And you know what? It feels great. It feels more than great. As long as I have him..." He stopped, thinking of his lover, waiting for the Smoker's next move.

Spender issued an order to someone else who was lurking in the room outside of Alex's visual field. "Prepare him," he barked, and then turned back to Alex.

"You? Own me? What an amusing concept, Alex. I salute you. You have retained your sense of humor against all odds." The point of the knife pressed in against the slit in the top of Alex's penis, and a bright droplet of blood welled from it. Spender put the knife to one side and then stooped, taking the cock into his mouth and sucking it clean of blood. Still smiling, he stepped away and was gone.

Cursing loudly, Alex railed to the empty room. The very idea of owning CGB made him want to kill the man and blasphemed the love he now felt.

"I wouldn't want to own you," he spat. "Dream on."

As a man in a white coat approached him, injecting something into his IV line, he looked up in mute appeal, but his green eyes did nothing to stop the man. Alex fixed his gaze on the ceiling, willing himself to be a stone, a piece of wood. The Smoker could do his worst; Alex had been through most of it before, and would not give his captor the pleasure of a fear or any other reaction. He would wear the mask he kept in his back pocket, his face lax, eyes closing as he awaited his fate. He could do this.

When Alex next awakened, he had been moved. Still naked, he was bound to a huge frame that hung on stout chains from a timbered ceiling. Looking around as far as he could, he deduced that he was no longer in the laboratory. This was a room that he had only seen once before. Spender used it to interrogate those captives he felt might require assistance to give him their information.

His head whirled, and he felt sick and giddy, the feeling of unease he had experienced from the start crystallizing into dread as he attempted to escape his bonds without any success at all.

He choked, closing and opening his eyes rapidly, sensations of vertigo rocking his brain. He stopped his struggling, hanging limply, but that hurt, too, as the cuffs abraded his ankles and wrist as gravity pulled him downward. He swallowed, waiting for his body to adjust its equilibrium to accept the new state of affairs. Arching his limbs up toward the ceiling, he tried to relieve some of the pressure. Of course, that took energy; keeping up the slack was an exercise in paradox, and he chuckled, but only briefly. Everything hurt. He wondered what might have been done to him while he was out, and what might be yet to come...

Time dragged by on leaden heels. Barely a sound broke the stillness of the air. Alex didn't know if it were day or night. He merely knew that he was thirsty beyond bearing, and that his joints had begun to feel as though they were being torn asunder. A couple of times he'd heard vague noises, but nobody had come near him. He was beginning to think that he'd been forgotten, when a small, dark woman in a white coat suddenly entered the room.

"I'd like a drink, please," he said, hopefully.

She didn't acknowledge his words, merely kneeling before him and lathering up his pubic region with an old-fashioned bristle brush and shaving foam. As he looked on, impotently, she produced a straight razor and began to shave every vestige of hair from his genitals.

Krycek raised his eyes to the ceiling. How could he have asked for that water? That wasn't like him.

"I wouldn't take your water anyway," he spat. "Hey, watch the pressure!" The woman was being none too careful in her shaving and had cut him a few times. Krycek supposed that this was to facilitate some type of torture, electricity maybe. He closed his eyes, recalling the torture he'd experienced previously, and the torture he'd inflicted on Mackey.

He began his deep breathing exercises, using the will of his mind to numb his genital area. He'd had some training in this, both with Hindu monks and on the fly, as it were.

The woman suddenly drew a sharp line across his balls. He knew she had cut him. Biting his lip, as he refused to cry out, she drew blood as she repeated the procedure on the other side of his sac. She then took something from her pocket, something big and torpedo-shaped, and worked it into his ass. It was cold, and metal, and big... Alex felt stretched to the breaking point. She shoved it in farther, causing him at last to cry out, and she chuckled in a low voice.

"Our little stoic," she said. "You master will punish you for that..." Alex felt a chill as she said that. Oh, Dustin... Dustin, please... I need you, moi Dustina. Please, please... just tell me you love me, Dustin...

Finally, she left him, shaven clean, blood dripping from his genitals to trickle down his legs. His balls were stinging from the cuts, but worse than that was the itching, tickling of the blood, while he remained utterly helpless to scratch at the irritation.

He sank into a kind of torpor, half conscious and half still with his new lover, remembering how Dustin had held himself open for him. Alex longed to hear his voice again, asking, demanding, but giving him such love.

Thoughts of Dustin had brought him erect, and he was almost fully hard when the Smoker opened the door and strolled closer to take in his humiliation. There was no point in cringing. Alex hung there helpless, a fruit, ripe for the harvest.

The Smoker stood and looked at him for a very long time, prior to speaking, and when he did, it was in a mild, almost kindly voice.

"You requested a drink, I believe. Here." The smoker lifted a paper cup on which the familiar golden arches were displayed. The top had a straw in it, and the old man pressed it up to his lips. Almost against his will, Alex sipped. It was Coca Cola, deliciously cool against his dry mouth and throat.

Ah! It felt so good! Alex took several swallows, forgetting himself in the sweet ecstasy of the drink. He heard himself gasp a thank you... He closed his eyes, taking swallow after swallow. He'd never known Coca-Cola could taste so good.

He smiled... 'Have a Coke and a Smile', was the old slogan, and it felt so damn good... but... oh, but. But his master never gave without also taking something in return. As he took the last swallow he looked at the Smoker sullenly, wondering what the price was to be this time.

Now that his thirst had been sated, his body began sending messages to the itch and pain centers in his brain, from his abused cock and asshole. He spat to the side, hating this man who brought him a drink yet ordered his torment. He hated himself for getting hard, and resolved to not think of Dustin anymore.

Mackey... he could imagine Mackey holding him without getting hard. Sweet, sweet, traitorous without meaning to be, Mackey. He hung there, thinking of Mackey, and then he looked at the Smoker. "I just flew in from LA... boy, are my arms tired," he said, trying for a joke and hoping it would earn him some relief. His master always said he liked his sense of humor.

The Smoker laughed, a thin, paper-scratching sound that made Alex's flesh stand out in goosebumps. Suddenly, he seized Alex's cock, and began stroking it gently as he started to talk.

"Alex, my Alex, it's so good to have you back where you belong. It hasn't been the same without you. Nobody else will do. They all lack your unsophisticated enthusiasm, and your stoic ability to withstand pain." His hand, slick with oil, slid back and forth on Alex's erection, moving faster as he felt Alex respond despite himself. "You don't realize just how your capacity for enjoyment has been missed."

Abruptly, the Smoker dropped to his knees, and Alex felt a hot, wet mouth enclose him, sucking him hard.

Alex leaned his head back. No, no... but his master knew how to stroke him, how to suck him. The man who would be his master, he corrected himself.

He thought of cold rivers, cold water splashing over him from the river they used as a makeshift shower in Russia, the waterfall that ran through the gulag, standing beneath the icy waters as they pierced his soul. He thought of the dead bodies he'd seen, bloating and rotting, stinking in the sun as they lay where they'd fallen. He thought of people he'd killed, some of them pleading for their lives as he stood over them with a gun. Slowly, slowly, he began to lose his erection, and he felt a small thrill of satisfaction.

He looked down at the Smoker, his eyes stony. "You aren't near as good as my new pet. But it was a good, solid attempt." Suddenly his vision swam, and he fought to keep his eyes open. He heard his Master say something, but he couldn't tell what it was. He smiled as the drug asserted its not unpleasant effect, and he drifted in and out of a delicious haze. The mouth on his cock suddenly felt great, and in his mind it was Dustin there between his legs, his sweet Dustin.

"Dustin..." he moaned. "Oh... sleepy, Dustin..."

Just as Alex was beginning to feel the tell tale tightness that heralded the onset of his orgasm, he felt the mouth at his groin draw away. A harsh, tight sensation told him that he had been bound up into some kind of restraint, and that his balls were being cruelly constrained from letting their burden go.

Glancing down, he could see his own cock bobbing and dipping helplessly, and knew that the Smoker was not going to go easy on him. As the old man began to attach clamps to him, suspending them from nipples and testicles, he moaned faintly. His head was whirling, and it was really far too much bother to hurt. Maybe there would be pain later, but now, all he felt was a desperate need to come.

He looked at his master, then shook his head. He would not ask for this. He could not. He closed his eyes, thinking of Dustin, trying... but the clamps forbade it. He bucked, trying to get free, but that only made it worse. He tried reaching for his cock with his arm, but it was bound. He looked at the Smoker in mute appeal.

I won't say it... I won't. Suddenly he felt a release, as if he'd flipped a switch. He didn't want to come, he wanted to sleep... sleep forever. He was tired... so tired... but he couldn't quite. He heard himself say, "Please... please let me come... please..." and realized that he was no longer in control of anything at all.

The Smoker laughed again, suddenly backhanding Alex fiercely.

"Beg, damn you. You are a disobedient serf, and there's no honesty in you. You'll plead on your knees before you're through." The evil old man took hold of Alex once more, and began a rapid stroking that heightened his arousal even as it irritated his skin. Again, the old man sensed his closeness to orgasm, and paused thoughtfully as Alex tensed, on the brink.

"Who is this new pet that owns you so thoroughly, Alex?" He knelt and reached between Alex's legs pressing and twisting the plug that was inside him as he applied his mouth to the cock that bobbed and waved in front if him.

"Please, master... you know who he is... Mackey told you. Eyes green -- that see me so clearly -- lips red and kisses sweeter than wine... oh, to hold him again, feel him... he opens himself to me and I give it to him, whatever he needs... I sometimes think he's more than my pet. He's... the word soul mate comes to mind? He knows me so well... teases me the way Mackey doesn't."

Alex shook his head, wanting to stop the flow of words, but he knew it was sodium pentothal stream of consciousness and it was no use. The image of his love hovered before him, all too close but way out of reach.

"Dustin... come closer, pet? Please?" He turned his head, vertigo catching him as his mouth ran dry. He licked dry lips, and closed his eyes. Cotton eyes... he would not beg, he would not. He no longer knew where he was.

"Good boy." The suckling at his cock suddenly intensified, and Alex could feel the tingle and pull of his climax as if it were a creature, nestling within his belly. With a scream, he let himself go, feeling the pulse and flow as his body expelled his essence.

"I'm sure that Dustin will enjoy this just as much. I look forward to making his acquaintance." The Smoker stood, dusting off his knees, and then turned to leave Alex, still suspended from the framework.

"No! Dustin's not for you!" Alex screamed as the Smoker left, cursing in Russian. If this man touched his love he was a dead man... maybe they both were.

He started to choke as he imagined the Smoker taking Dustin the way he took him, using him and leaving nothing behind. He had a sudden flash of the Smoker sucking Dustin off, and moaned.

"No, not Dustin... Dustin's sweet, and good, and innocent... you can have me, just don't touch Dustin." The rage swelled in him again as he imagined, unbidden, the Smoker taking Dustin up the ass, hurting him the way he'd been hurt... "Touch him and you're a dead man!"

He panicked before he remembered that Dustin was with Marita. She'd never let anything bad happen to him... she was his friend, and hated the Smoker as well. She wouldn't let him down.

As the rack, or bed, or whatever, tilted him over again, he bit his lip until the lurching stopped, wondering what would happen next. He knew he still hadn't told the Smoker everything he wanted to know, or he would have let him go... or would he?

Then he remembered -- Cairo, and a man he was supposed to seduce for the Consortium. The mark was a really ugly, foul man Alex had met a few times. He was to offer himself as pet to this man, lure him. No. Not again. He was done with that life. He had escaped. And he had a new love...there was nobody and nothing that could make him do that. Not a damn thing.

The light was extinguished, and he was alone and bound in the darkness. Time passed. He had no idea how much. No one came near him, and he began to need the bathroom desperately. He tried calling out, but there was no answer. He might have been left abandoned forever. In a way, he wished he had.

At last, he could contain his urine no longer, and released it, hot and acrid, to run along the frame upon which he was tied, and to soak his hair and skin before dripping to the floor.

Shortly after that, the electric shocks began.

Damn! He knew he should have held it... just as he knew that he couldn't have. The shocks were weak, but he knew it was only the beginning.

Still... he steeled himself, waiting till he got used to the small prickles along his flesh. Like being bitten by many mosquitoes, he told himself. No big deal. You can take this. Alex Krycek smiled to himself as he found himself correct. He thought that he might even come to like the pain - the room was so dark, and the silent, little pricks to the skin verified his existence.

He took a deep breath, resting, knowing this wasn't the worst yet amused that he had beaten it. It had been awhile since the Smoker had tortured him like this, and he found as he weathered each stage, his resolve only seemed to grow stronger. He waited, with a smirk on his lips. That all you got, old man?

Alex must have dozed, despite the discomfort. When he awoke, set-faced servants were unfastening him from the soiled framework. Alex attempted to break free, but his limbs wouldn't obey him, and he knew that he'd been dosed with something that would ensure his complaisance. All he could do was struggle sluggishly as he was carried to the bathroom and given an enema, prior to being dumped into a tub filled with bubbles.

When he was clean, they greased him, combed his hair and shaved him without a word being spoken. He was carried to a room in which several men waited. Servants laid Alex prone on an inclined bench, strapping his limbs, with a further strap around his neck that was pulled taut. If he moved too far, it would throttle him.

He lay there; looking at the stone faced men around him. He could well enough guess what was coming. He knew his master wanted him to go to Cairo.

"No," he said to the room at large. "Do your worst, but my days of being a Consortium fucktoy are over. Spy work I'll do, but not that. I... I'm in love now, and a man in love is no good at seduction! I won't be able to fake it the way I used to."

As the men advanced on him, Alex steeled himself and continued, "Surely you understand true love. Please, don't do this to me. Please, don't." As one man climbed up behind him, parting his ass roughly with a hand, and pinching his buttocks, Alex tried to jerk away. He was angry that they would do this... that they would take him, knowing he had given up his old ways, and was in love. He tried to lash out, to kick, but he couldn't effectively do it. Finally, he slumped against the bench, daring them to do their worst.

He wouldn't give in. Even if they killed him, or split him wide open with their cocks, or worse -- for Dustin, for himself - he would hold on.

It occurred to him that this was really no different than going to Cairo - either way he'd take unwanted dicks up the ass. Then again, it was entirely different. If he went to Cairo, he would have to take an active role, to seduce. Here, it was rape. Here he had no say, and he could justify it that way. I'm sorry, Dustin... oh god, I'm sorry. Promise still to love me?

Time seemed to slow down. A procession of men invaded his flesh as the Smoker himself filmed his degradation with a video camera. At first it was merely annoying, but then it gradually became arousing despite his protests. They pulled and prodded him, stroked and chafed until at last his body betrayed him. Tears slid down his cheeks as the Smoker smiled thinly and recorded his shame.

When at last Alex lay, panting and in pain, the old man brandished a tape at him. "This is a little memento for your new pet. I would love to be there when he receives it, Alex. Perhaps I should deliver it personally, what do you think? I could console him for you. How would that be?"

Alex snarled, lunging for the Smoker and nearly choking himself. "You know what I think. He's not for you. You stay away from him, you bastard. He's too good for you." That tape, he thought, wildly. God. Dustin's strong, but if he sees that... me, hard like that. He'll know it was against my will. But still...

He looked at the Smoker, hatred darkening his eyes. The mail will get lost. Marita won't let him see the tape. She knows enough to grab his mail, doesn't she? Even his work mail... wait a minute.

Krycek snorted. "You think he'll believe that tape? He works in the movie industry. He knows pictures can be faked, images manipulated. He won't believe it. No, you won't get him that way. He's not like Mackey. He's not a roll over on command guy. I find I really like that." He looked at the other men.

"My new pet is too good for any of you. Like I said. Touch him; you're signing your own death warrant. You can't have him. He's mine, and you won't take him like you did Mackey."

Alex gave an inward smirk that CSM wasn't on tape fucking him. *If* Dustin got the tape, which he wouldn't, but if he did, he wouldn't have to see the Smoker fucking him. That was some small comfort.

He didn't feel so comforted a moment later, when the Smoker took a thin bamboo cane and began to beat him. Alex bit his lip when the first vicious slice cut his back, but as the beating continued, he couldn't choke back the cries that welled up. Twice he fainted, and was revived by having cold water thrown on him. Through it all, there was a camera recording his progress.

When at last he lay, bruised and bleeding, a young woman was summoned to rub salve onto his wounds. At first, the sensation was soothing, but then the ointment, whatever it was, set his back on fire. Alex began to scream and couldn't stop.

He bucked backwards, glaring at the woman. "What the hell is that?" He looked away from the camera, schooling himself not to scream. He succeeded until she put the salve onto his dick, rubbing him hard and vigorous.

She took his butt plug from the table, covered it with the stuff, and shoved it back in, hard. He screamed loudly as pain shot through his groin, pain like a fire that threatened to consume him.

"There, there, baby," the woman tutted, yanking his head back. "It's not so bad as all that, is it?" She leaned in for a kiss, taking one from him, whether he wanted to give it or not. He tried to struggle away, but of course he couldn't. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, tasting him. "Sweet, so sweet, baby," she murmured. "Now won't you be a good boy and do as your master says, so we won't have to hurt you any more?"

Krycek turned his gaze to the CSM.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked. "Tell me." He wasn't broken, not yet, but sometimes the Smoker liked to talk about this sort of thing. He got off on it, got off on using Alex as pet, and seeing him used as such. Alex would indulge the old man if it bought him more time... if it got that woman away from him. He recognized her now; she'd hurt him before, too.

"Do? You know what I want you to do, Alex. I want you to go to Cairo for me, and bring back Haroun El Habibi. Are you going to go?" The Smoker crouched down at his side, fondling his face. "You always were far more attractive than the others. I've missed you a lot."

Alex cringed. "That old man... he scares me, Charles. Last time I was with him, he..." Krycek began to whimper like a child, leaning his head in to the Smoker's body. "Please, please, don't make me go back to him. Please. He's worse than Sergei... didn't I tell you what he did? Please, Charles. Anything but that. I'll let you have me... just please..."

He began weeping, remembering how the Egyptian had abused him, doing things to him even Sergei hadn't. Alex shivered, praying his master would take pity on him this time. His master loved him a little, didn't he?

"Silence." The word lashed at him like a whip. "You never used to talk back. It seems that you've been away from me for far too long." At Spender's gesture, Alex was released from the bench and shackles were placed at neck, hand and feet.

"I will ask you again tomorrow if you will go to Cairo and please me. Until then, I don't want to see you. Take him." He waved his hand and dismissed Alex.

Krycek whimpered and immediately chastised himself for acting like a child.

Why had he cracked? Now his master would never be kind to him again.

Fuck. Why was he thinking that way? The Smoker wasn't his master. He was leaving him. He spat at the men who came to take him, calling out after the Smoker, "Never! I will never go to that man! Nothing you can say or do will make me do that."

He shivered as the men roughly chained his hand to his feet, and led him down the corridor, onto an elevator to the basement, and into a dank, dark cell. The smell of the Black Oil leeched out, permeating the moist air, and light was non-existent. Alex whimpered. "No..."

When they left him chained to the wall and closed the door behind them, he was alone at last, alone in the darkness.

Marita walked into the hospital, finding the emergency room easily enough. A nurse directed her to the room where Dustin was sitting with Mackey.

"Dustin, I got your message. What happened? Oh - incidentally, I stopped at your house, parking at a distance, of course, and walked back to it. They're all over the place, but I was able to get you a few of the things I thought you might want - your sketchbook and laptop computer, some other things... so... what's the word?"

Putting his finger to his lips, Dustin drew her away from Mackey, who had fallen into a troubled sleep, tossing and turning as he mumbled incoherently.

"They've given him a sedative. He's severely concussed. His kidneys are damaged, and I don't know what else. That's quite apart from the burn to his cornea, and the others on his face. Who the hell did this? What did he do to deserve it?" He gripped Marita's wrist, suddenly fierce. "Are they going to do the same to Alex?"

Marita stiffened, then relaxed, reaching out to soothe Dustin as best she could with words.

"Mackey didn't do a damn thing, except show loyalty to a friend and a lover. The men we work for are bastards who feed on love and friendship the way a vampire feeds on blood. I told you the Smoker likes pain."

Her first response to Dustin's query about Alex --'all of that and more' -- would do no good here. Marita looked away before telling only the second lie she'd offered Dustin since they'd met, knowing that Alex would have done the same had he been counseling her lover.

"Alex is strong. They won't be able to break him tonight, or tomorrow. He'll be all right until Mackey can get to him. Remember, they won't kill him, or mark him permanently. They can't because Alex... well, he's used for..." Losing her icy demeanor, Marita turned to face the wall, choking back tears for her friend and onetime lover.

They had mutually agreed they were better off as friends, working in the Consortium as they were. Feelings for each other could be too easily turned against them, or interfere with either their objectivity or their work.

When she felt she could speak with a steady voice again, she said, "Mackey will spring him. He'll be back soon... I know it." Her thoughts didn't hold such conviction.

She squeezed Dustin's shoulder. "We gotta concentrate on getting a new place set up, and a new plan for Alex to escape him. "

Dustin hunched in on himself, shivering at the thought of Alex undergoing nameless and terrible tortures. Looking at Mackey, he felt closer to giving up than he ever had through all the difficulties that had been thrown at him during the Minnow affair. Alex mustn't go through this, he thought. Not if I can stop it.

"Why is this perverted bastard still breathing? How come you haven't used all your vaunted marksmanship and ability to kill the fucker? I'll kill him. Where is he?" He shook her shoulders, furious for a moment, until a faint sound of discomfort from her recalled to mind that she was a woman, and much smaller than he was.

"Sorry." He released her with something of a shamed face. He'd totally forgotten how she'd thrown him around only that morning.

Marita glared at Dustin. "It's not that simple. If it were, I assure you, he'd have been dead long ago. The fact is, he's a government operative at the deepest levels of the NWO. You do know what that is, don't you? And you can't just take him out. He's got people... and they have people... " She took a deep breath, then continued.

"Dustin, believe me, we've tried. God, have we tried! We thought he was dead once, but then Alex... found out he wasn't. God, you should be glad you didn't see the look on Alex's face. He went up with orders not to kill, but I believe he had intent... and motive. He tempered his impulse, though, as must you."

She smiled, not unkindly. "I can appreciate your wanting to protect Alex and kill the Smoker. But the thing is... you can't. You're so not ready to take him on, Grasshopper." She pulled him close and gave him a hug and a brief kiss on the cheek.

"But your intentions are good." She indicated Mackey. "How soon will he be ready to leave, if at all? And, good God, what did you tell the doctors?"

He'd pulled away from her unwanted familiarity. He was annoyed at her assumption that he was a mere babe in arms. He'd killed. True, he hadn't meant to, but he'd discovered just how easy death came, and when he killed again, he knew that it would be intentional. Too many people deserved to die. As her question sank in, he relaxed a little and faced her again.

"They assumed that it was a case of domestic violenceagain. They seemed to know us both, and they were hostile to me. I had to tell themhell, I had to prove that I was an innocent employee who had been called in to help the boss. They did some X-rays, and they're gonna keep him at least for tonight to make sure that there's no bleeding inside his skull."

Marita shook her head.

"Even Alex is never this cruel. " She sighed and went to try to soothe Mackey, which was easier said than done. He kept mumbling about finding his Alex, that Dustin would kill him, and other things she couldn't understand. No wonder they thought it was domestic violence. Thoughtfully, she looked at Dustin. "What happened after I left, Dustin? He wasn't this bad before... did you hit him?"

He shivered again.

"I wanted to. God knows I wanted to." Dustin's normally tan complexion had faded to paper white as he contemplated his own growing propensity for violence. "I didn't though. He kept on asking me to fuck him. I tried, but" At last the man gave way to the child, and Dustin broke down and sobbed. "I don't want to treat people like that, I don't!"

Marita felt for him. She walked to him slowly, realizing he had been nonplussed at her earlier hug, but wanting to give him comfort. She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"I see so much of Alex in you," she observed, leading him to a chair and sitting him down. "You need to learn to control your anger, your impulses, and you know what? I think what happened with Mackey is proof that you're getting yourself under control. That's a good thing... you can be proud of that. As to why Mackey is the way he is... it's a long story, but I'm glad you're working through your own issues and impulses. Unless you can think with a clear head, you'll be no help to Alex. Or Karl, for that matter."

"Why?" Dustin was still sobbing, but the jerky movement of his chest was the only indication of his distress. "What do you see of him in me?" When she didn't reply, he looked over at Karl, who had at last fallen into a deeper sleep. "And you have to explain to me about Mackey before I go completely off my head."

He sat, not moving, and just as she was about to respond, he seized both her hands and fixed her with the brilliance of his gaze.

"This may be all in a day's work for you, Mata Hari, but it's completely outside my world. Someone came crashing into my life and made me love him, and now I don't know how to help him. What do I do? For pity's sake, what do I do?"

Marita sighed. "All you can do is trust us... I know how hard that is. But if you go in now, they'll take you, and the Smoker will use you as a weapon. He'll torture you to make Alex bend to his will. No... It's best that you stay out of things." Seeing the flush of righteous indignation that rose up in him, she pressed a finger to his lips.

"There are things I can tell you about Alex and Mackey. Some I can't. There are parts of Alex I haven't been able to fathom in seven years of knowing him. He keeps himself locked up tight... with good reason."

Her eyes grew misty as she recalled some of the things she knew. "The story of Alexei Krycek is a tragic one, and one that is his to tell. What I will tell you is this: his parents were Russian scientists, lured here in the 60's by our CIA as part of a program to learn Russian defense department secrets. They took the money and the promise of a better life, but worked more for the shadow government than for either of their putative countries." She looked to see if he was following her so far.

"As I'm sure you can imagine, both countries wanted to execute his parents. They fled, leaving their son in the care of a man who worked for the State Department - a man they had every reason to believe would do right by him, as he had been loyal to them - and to this shadow government - that was even then in operation. Everything was fine until Alex was about 13. Then, the KGB got wind of where he was."

"Thinking to use him to get to his parents, who by this time were living in Tunisia in seclusion, the KGB arranged a deal with the Smoker - the boy in return for putting the Smoker where he could get and give the old boy spy network information - a gulag housing political dissidents from both countries. The Consortium was very much in operation, and the Smoker came and went at will.. The things Alex was forced to do and have done to him to get these secrets... they weren't at all pretty, or kind, or decent."

"After the Cold War ended, Alex was called back to Washington, to perform the same duties elsewhere in the world. . Until recently, when Alexei's parents died of apparently natural causes, the Smoker kept Alex under his thumb by threatening to expose their whereabouts to the KGB. Oh, that's right. You asked about Mackey. All I can tell you is that he met Alex in the gulag, and they bonded closely there. For reasons known only to him, the Smoker brought Karl home with Alex, training him to be Alex's pet and forcing Alex to be his master. Of course by that time..." she looked away, troubled.

Looking back at Dustin, she finished, "Alex had been mistreated so badly it was almost - no, it was - another form of torture to dominate one so trusting. But things... the circle has a way of coming round. As you can see, Dustin, slavery is still very much alive." She swallowed hard, and fell silent, moving to stand beside Mackey, wiping his sweaty brow with paper towels she'd moistened with water. She tasted bitter salt as she shed a tear for her friend, hoping he was all right. Here, Alex, take my strength, she thought. I'm 3,000 miles away but you need it.

Dustin had remained silent through the long drawn out confidences, hoping to hear more about his enigmatic lover. When Marita slowly fell silent, he too was quiet. Time stretched, and at last he spoke.

"Why?" he whispered, more to himself than to Marita. "Why did Alex allow this to happen to him? How can I help him?"

At last, he raised his eyes to Marita's. They had grown hard, green glass, as determined as stars on their courses.

"I will help him. You know that, don't you? Karl is sad, but not like my Alex. Alex has never had a chance." He continued to stare at Marita, daring her to say any different.

Marita's eyes were just as hard. "Do you love him, Dustin? Do you truly love him?"

His eyes softened, and for a moment, he didn't speak. When he did, it was softly, as if to himself.

"When he made me accept his love, I was not only angry, I was terrified. He came from nowhere, and forced me to look at myself. It's only been a few days, but he's turned my life around. I don't think I was ever able to trust anyone before, but Alex Alex stabbed a man for me, to save me from my own stupidity, and he gave me something that I've never had before. I've never felt that anyone loved me as I am, rather than for what I could give them. Yes, I love him." His words halted, and he couldn't continue. Dustin stood and stumbled over to Mackey.

"Alex... has that affect on people." She swallowed, remembering hard lessons learned. "He... God, oh God, he's... sometimes... this is going to sound crazy, but sometimes I see him as a martyr. Can you understand that?"

Looking up into Dustin's eyes, she could see that he did. "Alex is... a very special friend. I... I couldn't bear it if anything happened to him. Now I see that you couldn't, either. I must admit I was wary of you at first. He was so overjoyed to have found you, so... he feels like... well, I should let him tell you." She looked thoughtful again. "I was just worried that he... that you... I misjudged you, Dustin, and I'm sorry. It's just... he needs someone he can put his back up against. Someone who'll understand him. And ... accept him. He... may act strong, but on the inside he's... he feels he's worthless. Because of the things he's been made to do, the things people have done to him. I don't think he can take much more." She raised her eyes to meet his. "After his parents died, the Smoker had no real power over him anymore. Once they died, he was free to try to escape him. But now that the Smoker knows about you, he has something to hold over him again. Which is why," she concluded, "we have to play this perfectly. Do you understand what I told you about him? About what the Smoker... did to him, made him do?"

Dustin shifted uneasily, and made a play of studying the still unconscious Mackey. Finally, he turned and looked at Marita, eyes glowing fierce and strained in the set, white face.

"No. I understand that he's hurting, and that I have to help him. What did they do to him? And why? I don't understand a single thing about that." His voice was thick with the unshed tears, and his countenance, so like Alex's, seemed to fall in on itself. "Help me understand, Marita, but know that I will save him, if it kills me."

Marita sighed again. How much plainer could she make it? They make him sleep with men for information, and hurt him if he refuses. And the men he sleeps with hurt him if he does.

"I think... I..." She tried to hold back a tear, but couldn't. She knew that even now the Smoker was hurting Alex, breaking him. "You should talk to him about it, not me. He..." She turned away. "I don't feel comfortable talking about this. It's painful and very private. He should tell you."

Just then, blessedly, a nurse came in to check Mackey's vital signs. "He won't be able to speak much tonight," she advised. "Why don't you go on home and come by tomorrow?" She shot Dustin a glare, and Marita bristled. The nurse continued to stare disapprovingly until Marita took Dustin's hand and led him out of the room and down the hall, toward the exit.

"If you want to help Alex, the best thing you can do is stay in LA. I know the Smoker - boy, do I - and I promise you, he'd love nothing better than to capture you and use you to hurt Alex. He'd probably turn you into a puppet of his, as well. That man sucks the soul out of you, Dustin. So, the best thing for you is to stay here. Mackey will get him out by tomorrow evening, or the following morning. Alex is strong, he'll hold out that long. Meantime, we'll continue your lessons. If you were serious about being his partner, you've got some catching up to do. He's been in the game most of his life, after all."

Stopping short, he grabbed her other hand and whirled her to face him, desperately scrutinizing her face.

"Let me ask you this, Marita. If you loved someone - I don't mean as a friend, I mean if you felt sick to your soul if they were out of your life for more than a day or so, would you be able to stand by and wait? Would you be able to stay back and pin all your faith on a broken man? Would you?" The grip he had on her hands grew tighter and tighter as he spoke.

Suddenly realizing that he was hurting her, Dustin let her go. His cry was that of a little child, hurt, and uncertain. "I'm sorry. You have to understand. He's mine, and I want him back."

Marita stepped back. "Yours? Are you sure, Dustin?" Before he could reply, she looked away and continued, "You'll have to fight monsters to bring him back. You better be willing to do that." She glared at him. "He told me he worried about your seriousness, because of your 'Mr. Secret Agent Man' comment. I know you want to rush to him. That's natural, but sometimes what one must do is the most unnatural thing. Mackey can get him out, because he is who he is. The Smoker will let him." She decided to be blunt, to make an impression. She leaned in to hiss in his ear. "He would fuck you up the ass, and make him watch. Is that what you want?" Turning, she headed for the car, knowing Dustin would follow, but wanting him to know she was cross.

His fingers itched to slap her, and he clenched them, digging them into the palms of his hands as he repressed the impulse. Following, he tried to trust that Mackey would be well enough to save his lover, and knew that he wouldn't.

"If it was for Alex, I could bear it," he hissed at the blonde icicle. "Could you?" His head throbbed with the effort to restrain himself.

She whirled on him. "I've borne more for Alex than you will ever know. How dare you imply I wouldn't? I've been there for him. Where were you when the Smoker held his head underwater until he almost drowned because he fled a man he was to seduce, when the man did terrible things to him? Where were you when he was locked in a silo and left to die? Where were you when..."

She shook her head. "All right, look. I feel as impotent as you do. But if I work with you, help you to learn, then we have a chance to save him. Better that we work together than at cross purposes." She softened her voice. "Look, I want him back just as much as you do. It's just that marching in there will not help him at all!"

She sighed. This man had Alex's stubbornness, as well. "Look, why don't you tell me what you have in mind." And I'll tell you why it won't work, she vowed silently. "Tell me, Dustin. What would you do to rescue him?"

Dustin's brows furrowed. This woman was pushing her luck. He wanted to take her by the throat and choke her, but the pragmatist in him heard what she was saying and knew what she meant. Yet he attempted to answer.

"Whatever it would take," he flared. "What about you?"

She sighed, getting into the car, and looked at him. "I would do whatever it would take, as long as it had a prayer of working. I see your point. I do."

She wanted him to calm down, but she knew how he felt. She suddenly felt guilt that she wasn't there in DC now. Well, fuck. Alex had asked her to watch out for Dustin, and that meant keeping him in LA. Alex had told her that if he was brought back, not to let Dustin follow. Maybe she should tell Dustin that. But would it help? Maybe, if he realized it was what Alex wanted. So she told him, adding, "Besides. If you did go out there, and anything happened to you, he'd feel an irrevocable guilt. He'd feel it was his fault. And he'd be right, in a way - if it weren't for him, you wouldn't be there." She shook her head. "God, this is hard. I know. I lost things to them, too. Lost people." She looked at him.

"Can you understand this, Dustin? It's not an attack on you. I feel nothing but... respect for your enthusiasm, and devotion, for your desire to go in and save him. Those things tell me that you do love him." She thought for a moment, looking into his eyes helplessly. "What do you want me to do? Admit that I never loved him the way you do? Perhaps I didn't. But we decided to end that part of our relationship before we got to the point where we would die rather than compromise the other. We were weaker than you are. Okay? Happy? I'll never be half the man you are."

She stared out the windshield, face a stone mask. Fuck. Dustin had tried to make her feel guilty, and damn if he hadn't succeeded. But where did he get off? Knowing what she had to do, Marita looked at him. "I'm sorry, Dustin. Look, it'd be a lot better for Alex if we could drop this and work together. Okay? Please? For Alex? All right?"

He turned his shoulder to her angrily, not wanting to hear the messages her cold voice relayed.

"Go on, then," Dustin spat. If I go along with you, and I'm not saying yet that I will go along with you, then what are we going to do? Lay it out for me." He paused, and looked at her stony face to gauge her reaction. "Listen, you'd better tell me now if you consider me a rival, and we'll take it from there. How is Mackey going to help? The man can't even help himself. What the hell does he have that I don't?"

Without even thinking, Dustin had been driving home, and as he finished speaking, he roared his little car around the corner and into his driveway.

"Dustin, what are you..." She whirled her head. "Back up, back up! You can't --"

This man's stubbornness and impulsiveness was going to get them in trouble. She reached over and cut the wheel sharply across the grass and into the street. She didn't think anyone had seen them.

"A rival? Is that what this is about? Alex and I are good friends who've been through a lot together. If that's a problem for you, that we've known each other longer than you two have, I'm sorry, but I can't really help that. What I can do is offer you weapons and combat training, give you some pointers, some skills. I can help you so that if you do meet this man, you won't be a sitting target. If you insist on going after him, naturally, I will follow to protect you. But I'd rather you waited and did this our way. If I have known Alex longer than you, I certainly know how the consortium works, and the best way to get to their people."

She continued, "I know you think of Mackey as broken, as not able to stand up on his own. Let me ask you this: how did you see him before you met Alex? Before you knew what he was to Alex? I'll bet he seemed pretty normal to you then, if not imposing. Mackey is... another man of more than one face. He will go in, convince the Smoker he wants revenge, and get them to release Alex. We'll give him a day. After that, we'll go in. All right? Fair enough? I want time to teach you about the place we'll be going, should it come to that, and the people involved as well as mind games that they play. We'll do better if you're informed." She softened her voice again. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Defeated, Dustin nodded. There seemed to be no answer that didn't involve Karl and this cold woman who professed to be Alex's friend. He was tired. He was more than tired, and he wanted to curl up and mourn his lost love. Instead, he turned to Marita.

"All right. Where are we going? I'm all out of bright ideas."

Marita smiled. "Thank you for being willing to listen. I know I'd feel the same way if John were in danger." She glanced over at him, kindly. "How about a motel, for now?" She almost laughed... peeling out from his house, going to a motel... dj vu, Dustin? She shook her head, and grinned. "But I won't sleep with you." She hoped he knew she was joking. After all that tension, they could do with a laugh.

The look that he gave her was scorching. The joke was lost against the mention of a motel. What was it with these folks and motels? He turned the car and headed for the airport, and the security of one of the better hotels in its vicinity.

"John?" he asked. "Who's John?"

Marita smiled. "He's my lover, a security consultant for the Pentagon... a computer programmer." She looked at him. "Maybe you'll meet him one day." Her smile widened for a moment, as she thought of John's soft brown eyes and brown hair, geek-chicishly unkempt.

"He's a geek, but he's so loveable. Sometimes it's really nice to come home to some place... domestic." She nodded as they pulled up to the hotel. "Good choice, Dustin. Maybe you'll learn quicker than I thought." She smiled, a real smile.

Racing through the checking in procedure, Dustin made no objection when she brushed him aside and presented her credit card. Once they were in the room, he turned to her.

Plopping down on one of the beds, Dustin urged, "Okay, teach. Go for it. Instruct. Inform. Enlighten." He was slightly more relaxed than he had been, although his inner soul felt shriveled at the thought of what Alex might be going through. His every nerve jumped with the need to go and recover his lover now, before any harm could come to him.

Marita laughed as she joined him. "My, my, aren't we eager. Okay. First, the shadow government." She began going over the secret agenda that had been in existence for decades, the fodder of conspiracy buffs everywhere.

Dustin seemed surprised to learn much of the speculation was true, or at least had its basis in fact. She went through the one world government, the secret societies, and the dictum of absolute power corrupting absolutely. She talked about greed, and knowledge as power. The need to keep the masses in the dark to maintain the power at the top. She went over the history of spies, from ancient Rome to modern corporate espionage over the Internet.

One of the salient points was that through the ages, prostitutes and courtesans were often employed as spies. It seemed that people were easily tricked by lust (or love) into revealing that which they otherwise would not.

Here, she paused, got up and crossed to the bar, pouring them each a glass of wine. On her way back to her bed, she turned on the radio - the song that was playing was "Last Kiss" by J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers. She frowned, and changed the station - "Wild Horses," by the Sundays, drifted out. Disgusted, she turned it off and handed Dustin his glass before sitting down on the edge of her bed.

When he moved to take a sip, she nearly knocked the glass out of his hand. "You never, ever take a drink unless you fix it yourself, or you damn sure know who's giving it to you." She opened her palm to reveal a white powder in a glassine envelope.

"That's all it would take," she said, setting the envelope to one side. Watching him, she took a sip of her wine. "Go on, get your own drink." She gestured to the mini-bar. "Just remember what I said."

Lesson delivered, she went back to the original agenda. "What would you like to do now? More shooting, or fighting. We can go over this stuff while we're doing that, you know."

"I don't suppose that I can start shooting here in the hotel room. What else is there?" Dustin had found himself a portion-sized scotch and was now adding ice and soda.

Kicking off his shoes and socks, Dustin wriggled his toes appreciatively. "Better teach me to kill, Blondie. I think that's the thing I'm gonna need most." He raised his glass to her in an ironic toast, and then sipped at his drink.

She laughed, glancing at the glassine envelope to check that the seal was still intact.

"Just checking. With that evil grin of yours..." She smiled. "You look so comfortable with your shoes off. Why don't we go over martial arts and pressure points? You can kill, and severely disable, with those."

She set her drink down, and got up into a basic defensive stance, arms in front of her face and torso, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She flipped Dustin thrice, and he flipped her twice, although she teased that she only let him win. This earned her a smirk. She shook her head.

"All right. Enough of that. Let's go for the jugular - or at least the carotid." She took his hands and placed them at the sides of her neck, stroking them down over her carotids. "There. At the base. Feel that pulse?" she reached out and felt his, pressing one lightly. "See how just that cuts off some blood flow to the brain? Imagine doing that to both at once with extreme pressure. Another great one is the ears, right behind them... that bony plate. Here."

She passed his hands back behind her ears, also lightly rubbing his. "Hit hard enough, that can cause instant death. Especially on the left side, if I recall. Oh, the nose thing you may have heard of? Hurts like hell, incapacitates for a while, but it's not deadly enough, and too obvious. Better to use a quick strike to the larynx with forked fingers or quick jabs to between the ribs. And don't forget the solar plexus! That can cause death too!" Marita demonstrated all these things with soft, gentle, harmless versions of the moves, inviting Dustin to follow.

"Of course, if someone comes up behind you -" she turned around and guided Dustin's hands around her throat. "You can always twist his pinkies. A hard stomp on the instep is always a good bet - but better if you combine it with a swift jab into the armpits, like this." She showed him what she meant. "Of course, some of these may be tough if your attacker already has you on the ground." She tripped him, but braced his fall. "Then you have to fight from your back -- not as helpless a position as it might seem! Here, try this... twist, roll, and hook... trip me, too." She fell on top of him, bracing herself with an arm. "Now. Grab my arm and twist it... uh uh uh! Gotta make yourself as small a target as possible... keep those arms over your chest, too. Don't leave yourself exposed."

She jabbed at his neck and solar plexus. "Got you." She rolled off him, and wiped her brow. "You wanna go for some more?"

Dustin grew more and more frustrated as she tossed him around, seemingly at will. Finally, he growled and began to fight back, no longer pulling his punches as he tried increasingly hard to best the irritating woman who seemed so frail and yet so easily made him feel foolish. Time and again he tried - and failed - to best her, and he finally backed off, panting, his hands held high.

"Okay, I give up. So what I do is open the door, toss you in and then close it again? If I wait an hour or two, all I need to do is go back in and sweep up the bodies?" He reached for his drink.

She grinned. "If you like. But don't you think it'd be more fun if you fought with me? Come on, you're improving. Don't give up now. Let's go."

Pulling him up by an arm she steadied him. "Now. Don't think. Feel. Remember the scene in Star Wars where Luke is learning to use his light saber and Obi Wan blindfolds him and he has to hit the remote using the force alone? No kidding, the force exists. Now. Close your eyes if you want, and just - feel. All instinct. Pure viscera. Don't be a gutless wonder, boy!" She backed up a few paces, closing her own eyes. As he stepped towards her, she felt it, in the puffs of air, or smelled it, or whatever, but she sensed it... and dodged. "Try again, Grasshopper," she said breezily.

He muttered a curse and backed away, falling to the ground with his legs extended to sweep hers out from under her the way that she had shown him earlier. Barely restraining his crow of triumph, he moved in to apply a chokehold she'd demonstrated, and found himself holding his throat as she dealt him a blow to the larynx and evaded him yet again.

This time, he turned the air blue with his comments about 'The Force' and where he thought that she ought to put it. Finally, he sat up ruefully.

"I really need to sleep, Marita," he admitted. It's been a hellish day. Maybe I'll do better if I'm fresh. Do you want the bathroom first, or shall I?"

"Go ahead, Grasshopper. I have your back, remember? Oh, oh!" With that, she smirked and leaped nimbly to the bathroom door, checking for any intruders. "The coast is clear," she said with a histrionic curtsey. "It's all yours." Walking back to her bed, she took out a small toilet kit and began brushing her hair.

Shaking his head, Dustin made his way into the bathroom, a wry grin on his face. He wasn't sure whether the woman was joking or serious right then. She was doing her best to put him at ease, but there was an ever-growing knot in his chest and he suspected that it wouldn't leave him until he knew just what was happening with Alex.

As he brushed his teeth and made himself ready for bed, he thought back to the previous night, to the man who was gone, and who had taken his heart with him

"Alex" The name was spoken softly, but the anguish in Dustin's voice was harsh. The pain he was feeling was real, unmistakable. "Come back to me, please, come back. I will find you."

Marita took the time he was in the bathroom to get change into pajamas - light, yet suitable in case a midnight flight was required. She folded her clothes, and sat on the edge of the bed. Taking out a travel toothbrush, she idly rolled it between her fingers as she reflected on the events of the day. Dustin. He was exactly as Alex had said - like him in attitude as well as features. Oh, he was greener - more impulsive, nave, but that was only to be expected. Dustin hadn't - thank God - grown up as Alex had. She idly thought about the CIA's project Monarch, and how children were abducted, especially in the early 80's, brainwashed, and used as diplomatic sex slaves for blackmail. It would have been funny if it weren't so horrible. Milk cartons slapped with the faces of children who would never be found. Children whom, even now, were on the run from their captors, hiding their identities from their parents, sleeping in gutters and alleyways, sending anonymous postcards home.

She walked to the sink by the bar with a sigh. So much evil in the world... why did it have to be like this? Because of a few greedy men who revered power? What gave them the right? Spitting out toothpaste, she turned her back and went back to sit on her bed. She looked out the window, and got back up, restless. She walked over and looked out at the LA skyline. So many people... all so ignorant of what was really happening right next to them. It made her sad.

Sighing she looked past LA, across the country, and tried to imagine Alex, and how he was holding up. Had they broken him yet? Was he hurting, or drugged into oblivion? Was he cold? Hungry? What was he thinking about, but mostly, how much longer could he hold out? We're coming, Alex... hang on. Hang on.

At that moment, Alex Krycek was strapped to the wall of his dank cell, spread eagled like the martyr Marita sometimes called him. He'd been permitted not even a loincloth, and his arm ached from the strain of hanging there, suspended. Periodically a nurse would come in and let him down for a little while, so they didn't kill him or hurt him too permanently. But it was dark, and cold, and damp... and the oil, the smell of the oil... it took him back to the pits of the gulag. There, as now, his stomach had cried with sharp hunger pangs and the only visible light appeared as slits through wooden planks above him. He could hear people talking... was that Russian they were speaking? He heard a squeak from across the room, and a shiver went through him. Hold tight, Alex. It's your imagination. You know this. You're in DC, not Siberia...

Damn if he wasn't cold though.

Dustin emerged from the bathroom clad only in his underwear. He was going to have to go shopping first thing in the morning, or he wouldn't be nice to know. He'd been in these clothes for 2 days already. He saw that Marita was in one of the beds, sitting up, leaning against the pillows. He grinned at her apologetically and made for the other bed.

"I'mer really tired. Totally wiped out." He scrambled into the bed, sighing histrionically. 'I'm gonna be good, I promise."

"No worries," she said. "I wouldn't expect you not to be." She sighed. "It's been a long couple of days for you, hasn't it?" As soon as she said the inadequate words, she immediately regretted them. He likely needed time and space to sort things out. But just in case she was wrong,, she offered, "If you need anything, or want to go over anything we've talked about, all you have to do is ask. But if you don't want to talk, that's all right, too."

Dustin lay back with a sigh. "I'm so confused." His brain was humming with the events of the past few days. "He's got to be okay." He rolled over to look at her. "You know that he's not gonna be okay, don't you?" His voice broke as he spoke.

She looked at him, saying what she knew with her eyes. She owed it to him not to be a stone, not to wear the mask.

"I'd like to believe that he will be. I really would. But..." She had to stop and swallow. "He'll have a rough night. I hope Mackey gets to him before --" After a moment, she found the strength to finish. "Before he breaks totally."

She searched Dustin's face. "Know this: your love for him is keeping him strong. Knowing that you love him, he just might make it. When you're alone in the dark, sometimes love is all you have. He knows you cherish him as you do, doesn't he?" She looked into his face, trying to read him. She couldn't, as he veiled his eyes beneath luxurious lashes.

"I hope so. It's only been two days - maybe three. We haven't exactly had what you might call time to consolidate anything." Dustin frowned, willing her to understand. Visions of green eyes, gazing tenderly down at him, chased away everything else as he lay, thinking about what he'd lost.

"We have to" he choked. "Oh, God, we have to help him." His eyes were closed against her gaze, but there was pain on his face, and there was no mistaking his feelings.

"We will," she said softly. "We will. We'll get him back for you." She couldn't bear to see the familiar face twisted in pain. "We'll help him. Promise. He'll be back to you. I just want you to know... that he loves you. With all his heart, he loves you."

Her eyes misted as she put herself in Dustin's place. "I know... I know. They had John once... of course, the situation was different. I guess you can take comfort in that. They won't kill him, or scar him permanently." Then she frowned, her mouth tasting of acid, knowing that she was referring to physical scars. Dustin hadn't appreciated the full implications of the short history she had given him. Maybe there was a God, after all.

The world was fuzzy and grey. Karl Mackey didn't remember ever hurting so badly in his life. His face was on fire; his back was in agony, and his heart His heart felt strangely empty, though he couldn't understand why. There were bandages on one eye, and it was hard to see through the other. Hearing footsteps, he croaked in an attempt to use his voice.

"Please? Could I have a drink? I'm dying of thirst."

Doctor Peter O'Donnell swept into the room, followed by a few interns, residents, and a nurse. They all gathered round as one.

O' Donnell asked the nurse to get Mackey a glass of water. "I see chauvinism is still alive and well," she muttered, but moved to do as he'd requested.

Mackey had been moved from the ER during the night. O'Donnell consulted his clipboard. "Mr. Mackey? How are you doing this morning?"

"Feel like shit. Head aches." Karl's response was terse. "What happened?" He racked his brain in an attempt to recall how he had gotten to the hospital. Vague snatches of scenes from the previous day fluttered by him. He could recall Alex coming to see him, bathing his face, and -

Alex. Oh, no! Alex. Karl whimpered. They had taken him. Alex was gone.

Dr. O' Donnell gazed down at him, flipping through his chart.

"You know, I was hoping you could tell us that." Finding the scale he needed on the daily flow sheet, he prepared to mark it. "Do you know your name?"

The nurse returned with the water, and O'Donnell reluctantly stepped back to allow her to give Mackey a drink of it.

"What year is it? Who's the President?"

"President?" Mackey snickered a little, and promptly choked on his water, spraying it onto himself and the nurse. A slight delay occurred as she fussed around him, wiping the residue away and settling him more comfortably against the pillows. Finally, the doctor was once more ready to continue his examination.

What is your first name, sir?"

Karl blinked. He couldn't see the doctor clearly, but he had a vague idea of where he was standing.

"I'm Karl. Karl Mackey. The year is 2000, and the President is a very interesting question at the moment. I guess I need to go with Clinton just for the sake of the quiz." He fell silent, thinking about how he could get out and go after Alex.

The interns shifted position, amused by the exchange. Dr. O' Donnell made a note. "Very good," he said brusquely. "Do you know why you're here?"

Karl felt anger well up. "Listen," he hissed. "I'm not even sure where 'here' is. How the hell did I get here? To steal a clich, where am I?" He was, after all, the CEO of a large and successful movie production company. Nobody spoke to Karl Mackey that way. Nobody, save for Alex.

Dr. O'Donnell consulted his notes and looked at one of the interns. "Jon, I want a neuro consult stat. And Jeff, did you call social services yet?" The interns scurried off to do their master's bidding.

Looking down at Mackey, Dr. O'Donnell consulted his notes. "Mr. Mackey, you're in the hospital. Your... lover... Dustin Yarma... brought you in last evening, after what looked like a bout of domestic violence... perhaps the most immediate concern is that you suffered a severe concussion."

The words burst around Karl like a roman candle. He squinted painfully in an attempt to see the doctor more clearly.

"Dustin isn't my lover. He's my employee." Not my lover, he thought. I only have one lover. Dustin is he's Dustin, but he's not my lover. "How long before I can get out of here, doc?"

"As soon as we're satisfied you're okay. We need some tests that I've ordered, and I've also got a social worker coming to speak with you about domestic violence." He looked at Mackey sternly. "Whatever Dustin is, he's not doing you any favors." Dr. O'Donnell prepared to leave. "You just sit tight, Mr. Mackey, and a nurse will be in shortly to prep you for your tests. Do you have any questions?" he called as he headed for the door.

"Hell yes!" Mackey's yell brought the doctor and his retinue to a standstill, as sudden as it was complete. "Where do you get off with your attitude? How dare you make a judgment like that without knowing the facts? Domestic violence? A gang of thugs broke into my home and beat me up. Yarma wasn't even there at the time. How dare you imply that I would that I" Karl thought of Alex, and his anger grew in leaps and bounds.

Taking a deep breath, Karl continued, "All I need is a bottle of painkillers and a ride home. I'm a busy man. I don't have time for this shit." He fell silent, and a giggle from the gathered throng of the consultant's followers was distressingly audible in the sudden silence.

"You think that's all you need?" Dr. O'Donnell said. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize they were handing out medical degrees in Hollywood. If they are, and you're any example, I'm frightened for my profession." He looked around at his retinue, inviting them to share the joke, and a couple of the interns snickered, as did the nurse, who finally began checking his vital signs. Dr. O'Donnell continued, "We need a CT scan. Do you know what a concussion is?"

As he permitted the nurse to check his pulse, Karl took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. "A concussion is bruising of the brain, isn't it?" Mackey asked. "I think it would be a very good idea for you to spare me a minute or two more from your busy schedule. I'm paying for this service, after all. So tell me, doc, what do you think I need? And if I need a second opinion, I won't hesitate to get one."

Mackey wondered if the doctor was even half way capable. Disgruntled, he sought the nurse. His vision was clearing, but not really well.

"Nurse, is my cell phone handy?" he asked, ignoring the doctor's huff of annoyance.

The nurse looked to O' Donnell, who shrugged. She brought Mackey's cell phone to him. Evidently, Dustin had had the foresight to bring it along to the hospital. The doctor sighed. "If you want one, that is certainly your privilege. I'm just telling you what I think is best."

"I appreciate that, doctor. I'm sure that you are doing what you feel needs to be done for my care, but you aren't listening to me. Firstly, Yarma is my associate, not my lover, and secondly, I really need to discuss the invasion of my home with the police. Finally, I want to hear what you think my prognosis is. I am your patient at the moment, after all, and as such, I'm entitled to hear it." He smiled as he spoke, thinking inside, that if this pompous asshole didn't unbend soon, he'd toast him over hot coals.

"Yes, well," O' Donnell said. "Personally, I don't care about your relationship with that man; I was told you were a likely DV victim down from the ER. As to your concussion, I'm not sure how much damage was done, so I can't tell you what the prognosis is." He smiled a bit. "We need the CT scan for that. Meantime, I recommend you rest, drink a lot of fluids, and take a course of anti-inflammatory drugs for the swelling." He nodded to Karl's cell phone. "If you call the police, they'll come here."

"Thank you, doctor," Mackey said with dignity. "I'm sure that you're going to tell me just what my problems are, and how long it will take for me to recover fully." He smiled, the very picture of a CEO, accustomed to power. Inside, he was screaming.

"You'll be the first to know," smiled Dr. O' Donnell. "Meantime, if you need anything, just ask. How do you feel? That's the best indicator we have at the moment. Any lapses in memory, absurd memories... anything like that?"

"Absurd memories?" Mackey thought back. What, in his recent life, could not be classed as absurd? He took a deep breath and addressed the doctor that he still couldn't see.

"How long do you estimate that I will need to be here?"

"That depends. Concussions can be tricky - you may feel fine, and then not so good all of a sudden. I'd like to keep you for another day at least, to be sure, depending on what the scan says." Sensing that Mackey was about to object, he said, "Of course, if you really need to get back to work..." He winked. "We would have to readmit you if you start feeling confusion, dizziness, or worse in any way. Leaving runs contrary to my best advice, though. You really should stay here, where you can be monitored around the clock."

Alex! All Karl could think of was his love, all alone, and that evil, smoking son of a bitch taking pleasure in hurting him.

"It's incredibly important that I return to the office fast, Doc. You could almost say that it's a matter of life and death." He lay back once again, dizzy, but determined. He had to save Alex.

"Well, if you're bound and determined to leave, I can't legally keep you. But I'd like to at least give you some pills. Of course, you can't go anywhere if you can't walk. Can you stand?" In the officious stance he'd previously taken, he had neglected to check this. Going from his ER notes, he had simply expected Mackey to roll over and spread his cheeks, so to speak. Now that he hadn't, O'Donnell was forced to take a second, harder look.

"Doc, I'll do whatever you recommend, of course, but please be aware that I'm working to a deadline here." With emphasis on 'dead,' he thought. "You must understand that I have a company to run, and that I'm not permitted time off for even the best of good behavior." All of a sudden, the words he had been speaking began to hollow and change, resonating within his head until he wanted to throw up. "Sorry," he said, before losing consciousness.

Dr. O' Donnell bent to help the fallen man, demanding assistance from the milling students. Three came, and they lifted Mackey back into bed. "So much for going home," he told Mackey, whose eyelids fluttered a little.

"You don't understand," mumbled Mackey. "I have to go and help Alex. They'll hurt him."

He groped for the cell phone that had been placed at his bedside, and thumbed the speed dial that would call Dustin's cell phone. "Hello, Dustin?" A woman's voice responded. He believed that he knew the voice, but thoughts of her made him nervous.

"Is that Marita? Is Alex there?"

Marita sighed. "No, Mackey. Alex is in DC... and you promised to help him, remember? How are you feeling? Karl, I've gotten you an airline ticket. Plane leaves in two hours. Can you handle that?"

"I - I don't know," he stammered. Swinging his legs around again, he attempted to climb out of the bed. The world whirled around him most disconcertingly, and he found himself on the ground once more, his phone lying where it had bounced, several feet from him.

"If you want me to help, you have to get me out of here," he moaned, unsure if he would be heard.

A nurse rushed over to him, and helped Mackey, determined that he was going to function one way or another, back to bed. "I don't think you're going anywhere," she said, picking up the phone, and handing it to him. "You'll be no help to anyone in this condition."

Mackey lay in his bed, and the tears began to flow.

Alex hung in his chains, cold, scared and alone. The lights above had gone out now, so the floorboard cracks afforded him nothing. All he heard was dripping water, the scurrying of rats. He smelled the musty room, and the black oil. Hungry... where was he? No, he knew where he was. Why was he here? How? He tried to look around, but couldn't see in the dark.

A gentle hand stroked his face.

"Hello?" The voice was one that he thought he'd heard before, but Alex couldn't quite place it. "You must be new here. Did you displease the boss?"

Krycek tilted his head, speaking in the small voice of a 15-year-old boy, a boy out of time.

"Sergei hit me... didn't mean to grab the food... was so hungry... so hungry." He flinched away from the direction from which the voice had come, though his chains held him fast. "Daddy always said I was a pretty boy..."

"Damned hard to see what you are down here, boy. Are you hungry now? Here." Something was pressed against Alex's lips. The texture indicated that it was bread, and when he tasted it tentatively, it proved to be exactly that.

"Want a drink, kid? Got a little water, too. Hold still." There was a shuffling, and the presence seemed to diminish, returning moments later with a container that seemed to Alex to be a tin can which held water, brackish for sure, but sorely needed, and delicious for all its staleness.

Alex sipped nervously. "Please... don't tell Sergei. He'll hurt me if he finds out." His eyes slid around, looking for the other person in the cell. Suddenly Alex jerked his head back, narrowing his eyes, suspicious.

"You're not Karl. This is a trick... a trick." His voice wavered, before finally cracking. "Please, please no... all right... what do I have to do for it?"

"Shhh" The sibilant voice was soft. "Just drink. I don't want anything. I know how tough it can be down here. Why are you here? Did you do something bad?" Hands patted his flesh nervously, and he felt the can lifted to his lips again. "Drink. You need it. I can get more."

"I... I stole some food. And water. But I was so thirsty... hungry, too. Sergei hasn't fed me since I can't remember when... wants to fuck me all the time but I can't if I'm this hungry. He says I'm getting fat. But I know I'm not. Karl says I'm losing weight. Have you seen Karl?" He gratefully sipped at the water. "Who are you? How'd you get down here?"

The can was soon empty. Alex licked around the edges disconsolately, hoping for more. The receptacle was withdrawn, and the other, still hidden by darkness, offered the bread once again.

"I'm Alex. I've been here for a long time. Ever since they cut off my arm. I never stop trying to get out, but they always catch me and bring me back even though they don't seem to know what they want me for."

"Alex? That's... my name is Alex, too. Alex Krycek. They took your arm? They're really cruel here. Won't love you no matter how good you are. Even my daddy never starved me or locked me up like this. He hurt me when I was bad, but... then... he sent me away. To this place. Why did they cut off your arm?"

"They cut it off because I was bad. I betrayed Fox Mulder. I didn't deserve to keep my arm. Where's your daddy now?"

The voice was a high-pitched whisper, and as Alex chewed on the offering of bread, he felt his benefactor's other hand roaming over his trapped body, stroking down over ribs and stomach towards his groin.

"Who's Fox Mulder? Is he a boss here? My daddy... not supposed to talk about him. My daddy used to hold me and kiss me. Told me I was a good boy, and so pretty. He had the most loving voice when he said that. He used to ... show me how to make men happy, and he'd love me afterward."

Alex felt the other's hands on him, and knew he should offer something for the food he'd been given. But Sergei would punish him if he found out. Sergei said he was Alex's daddy now. Alex didn't shrink from the hand - hands! -- Two hands, said a small voice inside his head -- but he didn't arch into it, either.

"You can have me if you want... Alex... but if Sergei finds out, he'll hurt me. Don't tell him, okay?" The stroking went lower, lower, and felt so good, so much like the love he craved. "Cold, Alex, I'm so cold." And he leaned his head to the side, looking to try and see this other Alex, who comforted him so well. He was strapped in chains, but he wanted to be held... "Get me down from here and I'll let you do what you want to me... I hurt... hurt so much. Why did daddy send me away? I was his good boy, his pretty boy."

Suddenly, there was heat and slick warmth on his cock, suction pulling sweet sensations from the fastness of Alex's body and making his inner thighs tingle as he felt a climax rushing down on him. Hands stroked him, fondled him, knew exactly where to touch him as they roamed his torso. It didn't take more than a minute or two before he came, bursting into the other Alex's mouth with a whimper as he tried to keep silent through his orgasm, for fear of being discovered.

"Alex... Alex," he said softly. "You feel so good... know where to touch me. Will you save me, Alex? I'll be yours if you want. I heard some of the others talking. Said sometimes a boy takes another boy and saves him in return for this. Sergei hurts me. Will you love me? I'd be a good boy for you. Be so good. You could make me yours."

"Hush, Alex," the other commanded. "I'll help you, if you can wait. I can't get you down from here without a knife. I have to go and find one. Then I can make love to you. Make you feel good. I'll take care of you, Alex."

The unseen presence was close, stroking Alex's belly, his chest, his hair, soothing with his touch.

Alex sniffed... something wasn't right... something... "You promise? How... how can you get out of here? How?" Alex hung his head. Why was he questioning? "Please, before you go, give me a kiss? Just a little one, so I can feel you when you're gone?"

Lips touched against his, soft as a whisper, brushing tenderly over his mouth before more firmly placing themselves against his. Suddenly, there were arms around him and a hot mouth on his, a tongue probing into his mouth.

Instantly, Alex tensed. The taste, the feel... he knew them. But that man wouldn't be here... couldn't be... "Daddy?" he asked softly. "What are you doing here? Why are you letting them hurt me?"

"Come now, Alex. You know that they only hurt you because they love you. If you were a good boy, you wouldn't be in pain. Why do you persist in being so bad? You break your daddy's heart." The voice battered his senses, and he felt the tears starting to flow.

"But... but I do all they ask. All you ask. I get the information and I..." He sniffled. "You said I pleased you. That I was better than the rest. Why did you send me away if you loved me, daddy? They hurt me. Don't feed me and my tummy growls."

"Alex!" The voice came like a pistol shot. "You left your daddy. You ran away. What do you think should happen to a bad boy like that? How do you think that your daddy felt when his beautiful boy betrayed him?" Fingers, unseen in the black and slippery darkness, caressed his face.

"I... never left you, daddy. Love you... love..." His daddy had never taken that tone with him before. He started to cry louder. "You sent me away... you... hold me daddy, please hold me... I'm so cold..."

Arms surrounded him. Lips pressed to his cheek, and silk rubbed against his nakedness. Alex felt the bonds that held him to the wall release, and he was falling, feet still shackled, into the arms of his daddy, there to be held and soothed as the agony of returning circulation scorched his wrist.

"Ahh... thank you... oh, daddy... you'll get me out of here, take me home and love me?" He snuggled against his daddy, holding tight and kissing his neck through his sobs. "Please... can't take any more. See what they've done to me? They cut me..."

He felt himself cherished. Hands chafed his frozen flesh, and lips traced the lines of his cheek. He nestled in, feeling safe, holding on to his daddy with the one arm that remained to him.

"Alex, my baby, it's so good to have you back. I missed my bad boy." A mouth found his, hot and demanding, the taste of nicotine a reminder that he was here and safe at last. His head swam, and his body tingled. It felt perfect to be here: wonderful to be loved once again. Alex opened his mouth, allowing daddy to re-state his love for him as he thrust his tongue inside.

"Daddy..." Alex clung to the kiss, wrapping his tongue around the other's, pulling him close, closing his eyes. He was home now. Safe. Daddy wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. He snuggled closer, putting his daddy's hand on his stiff cock. "It's for you... the way you like it, like you told me." He slithered down in his shackles, licking at his daddy's shirt, fumbling with his hand for his daddy's fly. He knew what he was expected to do now for his daddy's love. He remembered, and he could do it. "Going to make you happy, daddy."

"You're my good boy, Alex. Daddy loves you, and you will always be safe as long as you please him." Alex practically drooled at the chance to make his daddy happy. He extracted the rapidly stiffening penis from the silk of his pants, and lapped at it, tasting safety, tasting memories of strong arms and firm discipline, tasting the faint, floury odor of talc as he took the slender rod into his mouth to worship it, pushing forward until his face was buried in the tangle of pubic hair that surrounded it.

Alex lapped at his daddy's cock. To him, it was the source of all love and comfort in the world. Kept him warm and fed him... fed him tangy fluid that now formed a bead at the tip. Alex licked it greedily, probing the eye with his tongue for more. He opened his mouth wide and took his daddy deep, feeling the cock twitch as he did. His hand moved on his daddy's balls, fondling them. Daddy had taught him well, and he would please him.

Sighing in pleasure, he rested his head in daddy's lap, sucking hard for the sweet fluid of life only his daddy could provide. He made mewling sounds as he felt his daddy's balls tighten and cock begin to twitch. He slid his hand back, past his daddy's balls, looking for the sweet spot daddy loved.

When the first, juddering pulses told him that daddy was there, was about to erupt hot and sweet into his waiting, desperately sucking mouth, he moaned, and paused, waiting. He waited for daddy to tell him it was alright, and that he could have the reward he'd learned to crave: to tell him that he could feed.

"Good boy, you remembered." A hand caressed Alex's hair, before grabbing a handful and pulling gently. "Go ahead. Taste your reward."

Greedily, Alex moaned, and renewed his urgent sucking. Quickly, his mouth was filled with the thick liquid he'd craved. Alex swallowed, and swallowed, and sucked until there was no more.

He looked up at his daddy, gratefully. "Thank you," he said softly. Tired now, all he wanted was to sleep. He ached all over, and he just wanted to sleep, safe in his daddy's arms. He nuzzled his daddy's thigh, nestling in. "I'm tired, daddy. Sore and tired. Why am I so sore?" he was confused, sated, happy, delirious with joy that his daddy had taken him back... but he was also aware that he ached from his ass to his throat and even his eyes. "What happened to me?"

"I rescued you, baby. Don't worry. Your daddy has you safe now, and he will make you well. Sleep now, baby, and let daddy make it all better."

A faint sting at the back of his neck went almost unnoticed, as Alex dropped off to sleep, feeling safe and warm in the arms of his daddy.

Alex began to dream, and a face floated in his dreams, a face so like his own. But it was just out of reach.

"Have you forgotten me, Alex?" queried the voice. "You're not where you think you are... you need to wake up. Hey Alex," the voice persisted. "If you're back in the Gulag, why isn't the floor bare earth? And where did that bread come from? Where did...?" Alex lost consciousness then, blissfully trapped under a fog.

Dustin was feeling harassed.

He'd showered again and changed into clothes that he kept at the office for emergencies. Following that, he'd begun to plough through a huge stack of correspondence that had been awaiting his attention for the past couple of days. No sooner had he walked in through the door than he had been assailed by complaints of all description, in every medium you could possibly name. For a while, it felt as though he hadn't time to draw breath. Marita had insisted that he go to the office. She'd reasoned that there were enough people around him, and enough security on the lot, for him to be safe. She'd seen how wired he was, and decided that he needed to be occupied. Occupied was a pale word for the chaos that had greeted him.

When at last he had a few minutes to breathe, he called Suzanne and asked her, pathos large in his voice, if she could order him a sandwich.

Marita glanced at him meaningfully. "Where do you get your sandwiches, Dustin?" She hoped he'd remember what she told him about drinks. The same went for food.

Dustin tossed a plaintive look at Suzanne. "I've had a rough few days. Do you mind handling what you can yourself for a bit?" Marita had been remonstrating with him. She wanted Dustin to be under as little stress as possible. She was also growing increasingly uneasy about Alex - she knew how badly the Smoker wanted him back in the fold. She sighed as Suzanne handed Dustin what appeared to be a videotape.

"This just came via Airborne Express, Dustin. Looks important - a screen test for "See No Evil", maybe?"

Grunting acknowledgement, Dustin grabbed it and tossed it onto the desk.

"Thanks honey. Now, if you love me, and don't want to see me fade away into nothingness, please get me some fries or something? If you tell them it's for you, that will be fine." He looked at Marita, his eyebrow raised inquisitively. Her golden head had bowed in acquiescence.

Turning back to the video, he picked it up again and went over to his TV.

"This is likely to be boring. Sorry, I have to do all of this shit. It's urgent because the show is already in pre-production." Inserting the tape, he grabbed the remote and flicked on the monitor.

Nothing but static filled the screen for the first few seconds, and Dustin turned away to retrieve a file that had fallen from his desk. His first inkling that there was something amiss came from Marita.

She jumped as a well-known room came into view. There was a familiar man standing there, smoking. This most certainly wasn't a screen test.

The Smoker looked at the camera, blinked, and began. "Hello, Dustin. I understand you are worried about your lover, Alex. Let me reassure you; we are taking good care of him. We thought you might like some proof --" Marita was across the room in a flash, frantically pushing the 'eject;' button. She didn't know how much Dustin might have caught, but feared it was too much to ask that he'd seen or heard nothing.

As Dustin approached, eyes focused with a single intent, Marita stepped between him and the VCR. "Don't watch it, Dustin. You'll be of no help to Alex if you..."

Wrenching the tape away from her with strength born of fear, Dustin brushed past Marita. "I have to know what they're doing to him." Replacing the tape, Dustin crouched beside the TV screen, drinking in the scene with frightening intensity.

Alex was on his stomach, stretched out spread-eagled and in chains. Men came and went, each fucking him, as he lay unable to move. When the Smoker began to beat him, Dustin cringed, wincing each time the rod landed on his bare back. His anger rose as the camera played lovingly over Alex's bleeding flesh.

When the woman came to anoint his back, Dustin relaxed a little, until Alex began to scream uncontrollably. Glancing at Marita, he asked, "How can get him out?"

"Mackey," Marita said simply. "For a start." The tape continued, and Marita heard Alex pleading not to go back to Cairo, to El Habibi in a voice that bore little resemblance to his normal one. Damn! They've got him talking like a little boy! What did they do... to break him so fast? How...?

Marita's jaw set. "We have to get to him before he agrees to go to Cairo. El Habibi is a butcher... nearly killed Alex once. He..."

Looking at Alex, who was pleading with the man who made a mockery of the word "Daddy," she sucked in a breath. Turning to Dustin, she stated, "We need to get Mackey on his way, right now. And you... me..." Marita let her thought trail off as she noticed that Dustin was looking past her. She had no way of knowing if he'd heard a word she'd said. He was staring at the monitor.

His finger pressed the rewind almost without his say-so. Dustin numbly watched the obscenity spooling backwards, and allowed it to begin all over again.

Again and again he watched the sight of his love, raped and beaten by people he had never met as orchestrated by an evil man whom he feared more and more with each passing minute.

He sat, motionless, his lover's pain seeping beneath his skin, and unable to keep it from contaminating his heart.

"Dustin, don't torture yourself. It'll help neither you nor Alex. Come on. We should get to the hospital." Gently, she prized his hand from the remote control, ejected the tape, and turned his slack face to hers. "It's time, Dustin. We need to go." She handed him his jacket and poked her head out the door, informing Suzanne that they would be leaving. Taking the still dazed Dustin's arm, she led him out the door.

He didn't protest, merely followed her as she led him past Suzanne and out to where his car was parked in the shade of the fence. He didn't argue when she settled him into the passenger's seat, and merely sat, stunned, when she started the engine and put the car into gear. All he could see was Alex. Alex, naked and bound, brutalized beyond bearing. He put his head into his hands.

"Tapes can be faked, you know," Marita tried. "Sounds dubbed. The Smoker has tapes of Alex from..." She bit her lip, unable to believe what she'd almost said.

She drove towards the hospital, trying to focus, but finding it impossible. What could she say? She could think of nothing other than, "Well get him out. I promise you." And she meant to keep it. Parking at the hospital, she led Dustin inside, and obtained Mackey's room number from patient information.

Dustin entered Mackey's room, and felt the fizzing rush of fear as he took in the battered countenance of his boss. Mackey looked awful. Purple bruises stained his face, and the burn marks were crusted yellow. His worst eye was bandaged, and he lay with the other eye closed; his face set in pain.

Standing beside the injured man's bed, Dustin froze.

Marita's eyes flicked from Dustin to Mackey and she realized that her course was clear. Gently, she shook Mackey's shoulder. He slowly opened his good eye and tried to focus. Seeing was a little easier this time, and he made out the concerned faces of Marita and Dustin.

"I --" Mackey began, looking from one to the other. Finally fixing on Dustin, he blinked. "I'm supposed to go to DC. Oh, my god! I've got to go. Get me out of here!" Sitting bolt upright too quickly, he nearly passed out again. Marita moved to steady him. "Oh, God..." Mackey leaned into her, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for the pounding in his head to subside.

"Karl?" Dustin spoke through clenched teeth, as though afraid of the response he might get. "Alex is in terrible trouble. I've seen"

Dustin subsided, standing, waiting to hear what Marita might say. To him, it looked as though Karl was not going to make it out of bed, let alone to Washington DC. He pounded his fist into his thigh as he surveyed the sorry state of the man on whom his hopes were resting.

"Fuck! He won't be able to go anywhere," he mumbled at Marita.

Marita looked at Mackey, sitting beside him. "Mackey, Karl... Alex is depending on you. Please? Can you do this?"

Mackey jerked his head up, and there was fire in his eyes. "I'll go. If it kills me, I'll go." His was feeling a little better now, and he knew he had to get to Alex. Mackey stood, shakily, and paused for a few seconds to let the room stop spinning. "So, who's driving me to the airport?"

Marita grinned. "Thank God, Karl... thank you." Marita said, meeting Dustin's eyes to encourage him.

Karl wobbled a little, but didn't fall. "I'm all right," he said quickly.

Dustin had hastened over to Mackey, and he now put his arms around the injured man.

"Karl, you don't have to do this, but he needs you. I need you" He paused for a moment to hold Karl tightly, and buried his face in his neck, feeling like a heel for making him get up from his bed when he was in such a terrible condition.

"I'll make it up to you somehow, Karl, I promise."

Karl put his arm around Dustin, and held him. "This is for Alex," he said. "And... for you, I guess, but... more for Alex." He looked at Marita, daring her to say otherwise.

She said nothing.

Karl shrugged out of Dustin's embrace and stumbled over to the small locker in which his belongings were stored. He dressed slowly. Marita moved to help him but he shrugged her off. "I need to do this," he said. "For Alex."

Marita frowned at Dustin, wondering if Karl was in any shape for the task they'd set for him.

Waiting was a trial for Dustin, and he paced to and fro as Karl got dressed, muttering and mumbling like one demented. He just wanted to be gone from the hospital; to have a final knowledge that Karl was on the plane and heading to arrange for his lover's salvation.

As Karl fastened his shirt buttons, Dustin placed Karl's highly polished, slip-on shoes ready in position. While Mackey inserted his legs into the finely tailored pants, Dustin held out the suit jacket for Karl to shrug inside.

When Mackey was fully clothed, Dustin turned without waiting and slipped out the door, returning a few moments later with a wheelchair. "I saw it on my way in," he said in explanation. "It seemed like a really good idea."

Marita smiled. "Good thought, Dustin." She was thrilled with his quick thinking, even though it may not have seemed like much to Dustin himself.

Mackey got into the wheelchair. "At least I look the part." He couldn't wait to get on that plane to DC.

To Dustin, Marita instructed, "Let's go." To Mackey, she asked, "You know how to play this, right?"

"For Christ's sake!" Mackey hissed. "Of course I know what to do, Marita. I was hit on the head; I'm not stupid."

Marita looked at Dustin and arched a brow.

Taking the handles of the wheelchair, Dustin pushed the wounded man down the corridor and toward the parking lot, hoping that they would not be discovered. His hands were trembling with the urgency of his mission.

"Karl?" Dustin began. "I don't want to sound insulting, and I know that you're not stupid. I work for you, remember? It's just that I needno; I have to know what you're going to do. Please tell me. It's going to be hell not knowing what's going on." He had been aiming for a calm, unhurried voice, but his agitation sounded plainly as he talked. Karl didn't respond at once. Dustin wondered if Mackey had decided to let him suffer for a while.

"I... know you love him," Karl began. "You want him safe. So do I. This man who has him... he's... diabolical is the only word I have. I have to make him think I want to hurt Alex, and then he'll let me see him. After that... I can maybe tell him I want to keep Alex in a shack offsite to torture him. I won't hurt him at all, of course," he hastened to reassure Dustin, "but the Smoker... wait, you said you saw. What did you see?"

Marita blanched, but prompted Dustin. "Maybe... if you tell him... it might help," Marita said. "Help him understand Alex's mental state."

Dustin swallowed, and then shook his head but then took a deep breath. Gotta face this, he thought.

"They raped him. And beat him. He was crying like a child. It hurt so much to watch. You've got to help him, Karl."

Mackey snorted, a muffled sound from within his cocoon of bandages. As they reached the car, Dustin held the chair steady while Karl climbed in, and stared at the two-seater Porsche in dismay.

"You'd better take him," he said to Marita. "I'll grab a cab back to the office.

Marita nodded. "You'll be okay?" As Dustin nodded his confirmation, she moved to enter the car. " Just wait for me there... I'll be back soon."

"He's back in the Gulag, you know," Mackey said.

Marita nodded. They'd seen this before. "You'll get him out, Karl. You'll help him."

Karl addressed Dustin. "Of course I will. I love him."

"Are you sure you're okay to go back?" Marita asked again. "Why don't I go back, and you take him?"

"I think it's better if you go. You know him, and you know the set up. I'm too keyed up to think straight at the moment anyway." He hoped that they both realized exactly how much that statement had cost him to utter. "I'll see you back at the office."

Without further ado, Dustin turned and walked away.

The flight that landed at Dulles Airport at 6am the following morning was, for a change, on time. Karl, who had traveled business class, was beginning to feel better physically, though the proximity to his old nemesis was not doing his stomach any favors.

Knowing that his appearance would complicate the hiring of a rental car, he phoned an associate from inside the airport, and requested a car and driver. Soon, Karl was on his way out past Falls Church, and his date with horror.

As the car pulled into the driveway of the big, old house, he tipped his chauffeur and told him to leave. Once he was inside, it wasn't a sure thing whether Karl would ever again see the outside world. Determinedly, he strode up to the front door and rang the bell.

A blonde woman he recalled from long ago, Greta was her name, answered the door.

As she took in the appearance of the man on the doorstep, Greta reflected that he looked more like someone who should be running from the house than coming toward it. Taking a closer look, she recognized him. "Karl," she said, smiling cruelly. "Come on in. The boss will be pleased to see you." Ushering him inside, she shut the door and went to summon the Smoker.

Spender walked through the house, to the foyer, smiling grimly.

So, Mackey had come after his love. He was more curious as to how Dustin Yarma was doing, having no doubt seen the tape by now. But he would be happy to talk to Mackey for the moment. Dismissing the blonde, he smiled his nicotine smile at Mackey.

"Karl. How nice of you to pay us a visit." He stepped to one side with a theatrical flourish. "You're not looking too well. Did you want me to attend to that?"

"Hello, sir. You called for me, and here I am. I have a mild concussion, so I'd be grateful for a painkiller. I left the hospital in a bit of a hurry in order to come here."

He quailed inwardly as he spoke, but his demeanor was calm and collected. They could have been a pair of studio executives, discussing a movie project.

Spender smiled. "Of course, of course., I have pain killers, all kinds. Morphine, Demerol... codeine." He took Mackey's arm and began leading him back through the house. "What hurts most, poppet, hmm?" He smiled, imagining what might hurt most if he let Mackey see Alex. He liked that idea... liked it a lot. But first, to tend to Mackey's pain.

Outwardly smiling, and inwardly screaming in terror, Karl accompanied the spider into his lair. As they entered the infirmary, Karl felt his throat close up. He remembered prior trips to this place. The antiseptic smell couldn't erase the scent of blood that hung over the room.

The CSM rang a bell, and a doctor - Karl assumed that he was a doctor based upon the white coat he was wearing - appeared.

"This is Karl. He's a little under the weather. Check him over and give him what he needs, would you?" The doctor nodded, and began to examine Karl with brisk competence.

"Sir?" the doctor began dispassionately. "Is this one for the dungeon, or is he for the circuit?"

Spender tilted his head, looking at Mackey critically. "Just do the exam, please," he said curtly, walking over to take Mackey's hand in a fatherly gesture. "You're worried about Alex," he said softly. "I can tell you he's been asking for you. Asking for his Karl. He wants you to feed him. Will you do that? Feed my boy?"

It can't be this easy, can it? Mackey drew his breath in sharply. Would the old bastard just hand Alex over to him without him even asking? It seemed too good to be true, so Karl decided to hedge.

"I'd rather beat him soundly, sir, but of course I'll do what you ask of me." Karl tried to recall just what he'd said the day that the Smoker had come to him regarding Alex's whereabouts. "He betrayed me. I hate him."

"Well, well. That's certainly a change of heart." Spender wiped Mackey's face with a moist towel. "You'd hurt your Alex? That's interesting... interesting indeed. You loved him well enough the last time we spoke." This is interesting, the Smoker thought. Potentially another way to break Alex down... yes. "Tell me more about his betrayal, and your hatred for him." Maybe this would be even better than he thought.

"The bastard left me. He told me that I was no longer his, and left me for another man. He just walked away as if I were a piece of shit he'd scraped off his shoe, after I allowed myself to be burned for him. He was there when the men came. He was there with me, telling me to go to hell. When they took him, I was glad. I wanted to run to him and taste the blood that he was losing, but the men hit me with something, and when I awoke, he was gone. Let me see him now. Just let me give him what he deserves, please, sir." Mackey had permitted the removal of the dressing that covered his eye, and now the doctor was painting it with some ointment that stung dreadfully. "I thought I knew what pain was, but I didn't, until now."

"My, my," said Spender, shaking his head. "Such anger! But you left something out, Karl. You left out that Alex was cleaning your face when we grabbed him. I was told that he went to the 7-Eleven store just for you. Are you sure you don't love him still, even after he ran off with your employee?"

He rubbed Karl's face, lightly. "That must have hurt you terribly. Yes, yes... I believe I can let you see Alex. Just remember, no permanent marks. Anything else is fine. Actually, I saw that dildo he used on you... would you like one to use on him?" He studied Mackey's face, for any sign of revulsion. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, but this opportunity to play with Alex's head was too great to pass up.

"He was cleaning my face, yes." Mackey was thinking furiously. This was like a chess game, and he had to convince this evil old man that he was sincere in his hatred. "He was cleaning my face after giving me this." He indicated the bruise he had gotten from someone's boot. "He kicked me in the head and when I lost consciousness, I guess he was worried."

Spender nodded. "Yes, he's a very ... guilty boy, our Alex." He smiled to himself, thinking you don't know the half of it. "He would have felt badly. " Speaking more to himself than Mackey now, the Smoker continued, "He's so conflicted. Used to be so good, when he knew his role. He's splitting, disintegrating... may have to give him a clean slate workup if this doesn't improve."

He looked at Mackey. "I need to leave for a few minutes. But hopefully when I come back you'll feel well enough to see Alex."

Taking the seat that the doctor indicated, Mackey permitted the doctor to apply a soothing salve to his face, and swallowed the painkillers he was offered. It sounded as though they had taken Alex down to nothing in only a couple of days. He wanted to ask the Smoker how that was done, but he didn't think that the old man would tell him.

The doctor was deft, and very shortly his face was feeling far better than it had. The pills made him feel a little drowsy, but the pain was becoming a distant memory.

Alex was chained again, but not to the wall. This time, he was tethered, blindfolded, to an O-ring in the middle of a dank room they called the Pit, scrabbling away every time the door opened. Usually when that happened, a man would come in and he'd have to perform. When the door next opened, things were different. He was given food, and water, and a hand caressed his face.

He whimpered at the unexpected tenderness, and sat, head up, listening intently, trying to determine when the blows would begin to fall.

The water that he drank tasted metallic, and he was vaguely aware that he was drinking more drugs. But he was so thirsty now that he had to drink, even if the drugs meant his death.

"Hello, Alex, my sweet boy. How are you feeling?" He knew the voice, and his heart thumped painfully against his chest as he awaited some new cruelty. None came. Instead, the old man hugged Alex to him, murmuring endearments as he removed the blindfold that covered Alex's face.

Alex stiffened, waiting for a blow, a kick, a slap. Again, none came. His breathing evened out, and Alex finally dared to open his eyes -- closing them again against the harsh light.

"Why...?" was all he could say, trying to scrabble away, but feeling weak and numb.

"Alex, come now. Nobody's going to hurt you. We love you." The lighter flared and acrid smoke curled around Alex's face, making him gag. "It's all right, in fact a friend of yours has come to visit. We must make you pretty for him." The old man continued to fondle him as he whimpered, gesturing to a pair of lackeys who were waiting by the door.

"See that he gets a shower. I want him to look lovely for our guest."

Alex was suddenly more afraid than he had been. A friend? He didn't have any friends. His friends were all dead. Sergei had killed them all one winter's night... except for... except for... "Karl?" he asked, looking at Spender. "He's come to see me?"

"Very good, dear boy. You've inspired such love in poor Karl's heart that he's gotten up out of his hospital bed to rush to your side. How lucky you are to have someone who loves you that much, Alex. You should treat him well, and never let him go." There was amusement in the Smoker's voice as the two minions carried Alex away, since his legs were so cramped that he couldn't walk.

Alex moaned. "Karl... hospital? Did Sergei cut him, too, then?" He struggled to hurry to his best friend's side, forgetting he was shackled. One of the guards slapped him, hard, and laughed as Alex sank to his knees.

The sting came as a surprise, a lash he knew not what he had done to earn. Had daddy told him to hurry? He gasped as one of the orderlies picked him up, pinching his already abused cock and caressing his sore ass. "Alex... stay with us. We'll get you there." The orderly looked appreciatively at Alex's cringing form. "Such a pretty boy." Alex shivered and mewled, but followed as he was tugged along, shackled feet stumbling.

Karl was dozing in a comfortable chair when Greta came to him.

"You must come at once," she announced. The Master is waiting for you." The curt voice shocked him into awareness. Alex. He would soon be with Alex.

Stumbling to his feet, he followed the woman to the room where the Smoker was waiting.

"Well, Karl, I've made sure that he's clean and tidy for you to do as you see fit." The Smoker opened a door behind him, and gestured for Mackey to enter.

Alex was lying on a soft, white bed, his wrist and ankles chained to posts, his chest strapped down.

When the door creaked open, Alex stiffened. He had already forgotten it was supposed to be a friend coming to call, and he tried to scoot away, but of course he couldn't. Karl...he thought. Karl was here. At the tone of daddy's voice, he shivered. Why did he sound that way? Afraid, Alex whimpered, turning his face away from the light.

5: Into the Fire

Mackey stood in the doorway, his eyes devouring Alex who lay on the bed, held prone by leather straps that had visibly abraded his fair skin. It seemed like an eon before Karl summoned up the nerve to cross the thick carpet and go to his adored master.

When he got closer, Karl saw angry welts on Alexs back, and blood that showed angry and red, barely scabbed, from wounds on his thighs.

"Alex? Alex, it's Karl."

Krycek tensed, whimpering.

"Where have you been, moi Karl? He killed them, Karl... killed them all. Made me watch him do it. It was my fault, wasn't it, Karl? I shouldn't have run." His voice was high and thin, a terrified boy in a snake pit he had no hope of escaping.

With a sinking heart, Karl realized that somehow, in just a matter of a couple of days, the Smoker had managed to regress Alex to the boy hed been back in Tunguska with Sergei, half a lifetime ago. Karl didn't quite know what to do. He'd come here on sufferance, to mete out a supposed punishment. Now he would have to make the Smoker believe it.

"Now you aren't so cocky, are you, Alex? It's my turn. You left me for that Dustin after all we've been through. How could you do that? I'll show you!" Climbing onto the bed, Karl began to knead the sore skin of Alex's back and buttocks. "I'll teach you. This is what you deserve."

Alex yelped when Karls fingers dug maliciously into his tender flesh.

"Yes, Karl, I deserve it... all my fault. They're dead and I could have..."

Left him for Dustin? Alex racked his brain. Dustin? He didn't know any Dustin, but Alex knew Karl never lied to him. No one did. Daddy always said he was the only liar. So did Sergei. And Karl, sweet Karl, if he had hurt him, he deserved to have his wounds salted. Karl was his only true friend now. What had he been thinking?

He bent his head, arching his back to meet Karl's hands, offering himself. If he had hurt Karl, he deserved this and more. God, but it hurt. "Please," he whimpered.

Karl opened his pants, grinning hugely for the camera that he knew was there. He'd been hard since his first sight of Alex, spread out for him like a feast. Moistening the tip of his cock with saliva, he climbed over Alex, pulled his hips up to a more accommodating angle, and slipped inside the bound man's anus.

Within, Alex was slippery and hot. Mackey realized that he had been prepared for him, and that he was not by any means the first to fuck Alex that day. Painfully aroused by the thought,, Karl began to pump his hips roughly, relishing the feel of Alex even as his mind screamed for him to stop.

Alex whimpered as his ass was invaded for what felt like the fortieth time that day. He screamed as Karl sped up his thrusts.

"Why, Karl, why?" he cried, anguished. But he had hurt his only friend. Still whimpering, he tried to relax, to take Karl deep. If anyone deserved to hurt him, it was Karl. "Yes, Karl," he said, even as his anus clenched Karl's cock, reflexively. "If I hurt you, I deserve this." He whimpered again. God, but it hurt... but for his Karl, he could take it. He felt he could take anything, as long as Karl would love him again... be his friend. If he didn't have Karl, who'd sneak him food? He was a fool... He started to cry as the pain intensified.

Two teenaged boys, sitting on a riverbank, hiding in the reeds. One offers the other bread; the other slides his hand into the river and brings water to his friend's lips. They lay there, half naked, bodies scarred and striped, holding each other tight, praying for a few hours of peace, to hold each other, and care for each other's wounds.

Suddenly men on horseback crash through the brush, coming through the reeds and jerking them up.

"Moi Karl, moi Karl."

As his orgasm took him, he fell forward with a groan, covering Alex with his body, and positioning his lips beside Alex's ear. With a gasp, Karl felt himself tighten, thrust and then explode into Alex. It felt good, but he was sickened - ashamed. How could he ever look Alex in the face again?

As Karl came, Alex sobbed, biting his lip. He thought he'd hurt his friend somehow. He wanted to die for hurting him, his only source of real love and comfort.

"I've come to help you, beloved one," Karl whispered directly into Alexs ear. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I have to hurt you or they won't believe me, but I'll get you out, I swear."

Hearing Karl's whispered promise, Alex relaxed and started to cry. The one he'd betrayed so clearly still loved him. He didn't deserve it. Shivering, he said, "Hurt me, Karl."

Aloud, Mackey cried out, reviling Alex. He didn't know if anyone was watching this live, but he knew that it had to look convincing. Mocking Alex loudly and telling him that he would soon return, he stood, tucking his now flaccid cock back into his pants, and left the room.

As Karl cursed him, Alex sniffled. His Karl had him now, and would be back to punish him further. He didn't care if there was pain; it was Karl.

When he was alone, the past played on A man with a greasy sneer stood over Alex in the cold room, eating from a pot of stew, then holding out a spoon to him, just out of reach. "You and Karl were caught by the river. Tell me, what were you doing there? What were you planning?" Alex's stomach rumbled loudly at the savory smell, but he wouldn't turn on Karl. Hed never...

Torn between guilt and relief, Mackey left the room and the sobbing Krycek. The Smoker was standing beside a small monitor, and had obviously been watching the performance.

Smiling grimly, the Smoker noted, "That must have been a first for you, Karl. You're usually so submissive."

Karl took a deep breath. Time to start the game.

"Sir, I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that." His face reflected cruelty and anger. "How did you get him to such a regressed stage so rapidly? Two days ago, he was king of the hill."

Spender smiled. "Ah, my boy. You forget how deeply we ingrained certain ideas into him. Certain... phrases." He put an arm around Mackey conspiratorially. "You know, for years all that was required was the right phrase. But then, he began... breaking away. Refusing commands. He was for lack of a better word splitting. What do you know about brainwashing, Karl? The fracturing of the psyche?"

"N-nothing, sir." Karl felt a shock of cold fear travel down through to his belly. Whatever they had done to Alex was far more deeply seated than he had imagined. "You brainwashed Alex?"

"Why yes. I had to bring him back to heel... back to his Daddy's knee, as it were." He smiled at the thought of Alex's head on his knee, just that morning, sucking him. "It went quite well, wouldn't you say? Do you know where he thinks he is?" If Mackey had figured that out, maybe there was hope. Maybe he could play more games with these two.

"He thought we were back in the Gulag. God! That must be at least 17 years ago. We were only 15, 16 years old. He thought that he was back with Sergei. You've certainly found a way of exercising control, sir." Mackey smiled again. Damn this! His face was starting to ache with the hell of staying civil to this monster.

"The human mind is very fragile... easily cracked." Spender was smiling his yellow smile again as he exhaled in Mackey's face. "Beautiful to witness, isn't it? An art form in itself." He pressed some keys, and the picture on the monitor zoomed in to Alex's sweat beaded forehead, revealing his eyes darting fearfully. The door creaked as a lackey entered. "It takes great skill, to keep one as strong willed as Alex balanced on the edge of sanity. But it is exquisite. He allowed you to dominate, to penetrate. What will he do when he realizes that, do you think?"

"I think he would brush it off, sir. He was chained. He had no choice. The day I can fuck him; the day he permits that without restraints I will have my revenge." Mackey paused, as though the idea had just occurred to him. "Do you think that it could happen, sir? That he would give himself to me? To have him as my toy-- that would be the most wonderful thing."

Mackey trailed off into silence. Let that seed grow, he thought. And maybe, just maybe there's a chance.

Spender smirked, watching as his lackey held a cup of water to Alex's lips. He wished he were there, giving it to Alex, feeling him in his arms, enjoying his complete mastery over the man he'd created. Alex was truly, his son in every meaningful sense of the word.

He turned to Mackey. "Do you think," he said with a contemptuous sneer, "my Alexei would ever permit you to use him as a toy?" He looked off into the monitor, contemplatively. "Of course, if it could be done in such a way as to shatter him, truly destroy him." His lips twisted cruelly. "What does Alex want, when he's using you as his toy, Karl? What are his favorite humiliations?"

"Oh, he loves to see me beg for release, but more than that, he gets off on my pleas for affection. That's what he wants from me, I think. He always wants to give it to me hard, but he wants me to bear it, to revel in it, because it's him. Now, it's my time and I want him to be aware when the tables turn." The vision that was in Karl's eyes made his face grow misty. "I loved him, you know. I would've been his forever, but I think that I'd rather he was mine."

"You don't love him still?" Spender's voice was sad. A phrase reverberated in his mind: 'For I so love the world, that I have given you my only begotten son.'

"Love him?" Mackey's voice was thoughtful. "I adored him, but he betrayed me. He betrayed me the way that he betrays everyone." He allowed bitterness to creep into his tone. "I'd like to teach him what it feels like."

He raised his eyes to meet those of the Smoker. Please, he thought. Please buy into this, or we're both history.

"My boy does love his little betrayals," Spender mused. "I suspect he's broken many a heart." He watched with soft eyes as his lackey began to attach electrodes to Alex and arranged an IV hookup for him. "We'll have to cure him of that, so he can be yours, then. Yes, I can see where that could work." His lips twitched as he imagined Alex's degradation. "He hurts you. Wasn't it you who said love hurts?"

"It hurt me, that's for sure." Karl gazed at the monitor, frowning. "What are they doing? What's the IV for?" He watched as the men began to hook up a bottle into it, and another chill went through him. He began to wonder if there would be something of Alex left to salvage.

"If you're going to make him suffer," Spender sighed, "shouldn't the suffering be exquisite? Even holy? A ritual. Put my boy on your altar, Karl. I can arrange your own tabernacle. Would you like that?"

Mackey stared at the monitor, appearing deep in thought. What, he wondered, was this old megalomaniac driving at? Turning to Spender, he nodded.

"You mean I can have him? How will you arrange it, sir?"

"My boy, if you were ever Alex's, he was yours just as much. I chose you two for each other long ago. 'What I have brought together, let no man put asunder.' He has always been yours, Karl." Turning away from the monitor to face Mackey, he added, "I have a small guest house on the property here. I thought to let you take him there. Then you can make him scream, and cry, and bleed."

The desire was thick in Mackey's voice. "Oh, God, please sir." Karl dropped to his knees and kissed the old man's shoes. "Mine to hurt? Mine to hurt or to punish." He paused. "How much do you need him, once I'm done?"

"Well, my boy, I do need him to fetch El Habibi for me. So let's say I need him... alive." His lips quivered again, and he took another drag on his cigarette. "Alive, with a flicker of spirit. But don't worry. I know how to cover up the damage to his psyche. To have him behave as if I never brainwashed him. He paused to gather his thoughts. "I'm glad you see this as fitting. Why don't we get things started?" His eyes twinkled almost gleefully. "I'm expecting Yarma soon, you know, so it's just as well this way. Would you like to hurt Yarma too, child?"

That offer hit Karl like a bucket of cold water. What did Spender mean? He shivered, and tried to school his features into an expression of lust. Fortunately, he was still crouched at the Smoker's feet.

"Sir? It would give me more pleasure than you can possibly imagine." He pressed his face to the old man's knees, and waited, holding his breath.

Spender patted Karl's head, squatting down beside him. He kissed him tenderly, stroking a thumb lovingly over the angry sores on Mackey's face.

"Pay him back for these," he said. "You should pay them both back." He kissed Karl again, then stood up and walked towards the room where Alex was now in a drug-induced haze, listening to a hypnotic suggestion reel. "No time like the present, correct?" He rang a bell, and nodded to the lackeys that appeared, telling them where and how to transport Alex.

Marita had finally permitted Dustin to return to his home, and the two of them were watching the throng of workmen clear up the debris of broken windows and scattered possessions. Boarded doors and windows were being replaced; flowerbeds were being reconstructed, and the splintered wood and glass were being tidied away. Dustin didn't really care. His heart was far too sore as he dwelled upon the plight of his lover. He'd tried several times to persuade Marita to let him go after Alex, but each time, she'd refused.

All they'd done was shoot, and shoot, and fight until he was sore, and then return to the range to shoot again. He was about to explode out of sheer frustration.

"You're improving, Dustin." Marita took out a couple of beers, handing one to Dustin. "What do you feel you've made the most progress in? Name three things." She smiled, waiting. She'd been pleased by his aptitude, and realized if she could get him to use his fear and his anger, as Alex did, then he'd be unstoppable. He just needed some more self-confidence.

"Ummm Let me see," he said, deceptively mild as he appeared to think. "Taking orders must be the biggest one. Then, why, there's keeping my head down while other people fight my battles. That's gotta be up there. Three That's a toughie. Maybe keeping my temper under very trying circumstances? Yep, I'm inclined to go with that one."

"Dustin, you really need to stop joking around and start taking this seriously. I know some of this has got to be nervous humor, but don't you want to help Alex? Don't you want to be his partner one day? You can't if all you know how to do is joke."

He rounded on her, the snarl on his face testament to the fact that he was not joking at all.

"You smug piece of work! You say you're his friend and yet you leave his well being to a sad sack like Karl while you hang around here, making something out of nothing, and you won't even tell me how to find him. I'm not joking. The last thing in the world this is, is funny." He stood, towering over her like a Fury, all his anger written on his face at last.

Marita walked right up to him. "You keep saying Karl's a sad man. Well, I'll bet he didn't seem so before you saw him with Alex. Actually, right now he's probably the best equipped of us to help Alex, based on what I saw on that tape. He was in the gulag with Alex, fifteen years ago. He..." She paused, looking for the right words. As if on cue, the doorbell rang. She made as if to answer it, but Dustin angrily stormed past her, saying something she didn't quite catch about it being his house.

She saw someone hand him a package, and waited to see what it was. When he brought it into the TV room and crouched before the VCR, once again she tried to stop him, to no avail.

"Where do you get off? Just leave me be, will ya?" He tore the box open, and her heart sank when he confirmed it was another videotape. He laid the packaging aside and flipped his TV set on, inserting the tape in the VCR. Turning to Marita, he said, "Just back off. I have to know what they're doing to him. Why can't you understand?"

She sighed. "You are so stubborn! Fine. Just fucking fine. If you're bound and determined to torture yourself, who am I to stop you?" She turned to walk away, then whirled on her heels. "You know, if you put half your impotent rage and frustration into your fighting..."

Narrowing her eyes, she caught a glimpse of Alex on the screen, his head cradled by the CSM, bobbing. No! She looked at Dustin, and continued, "In fact... let's see some of that rage right now." She launched herself at him, grabbing his jacket, flipping him over her back judo-style, pinning him to the floor. Please, God, she thought, as she stood back from the prone man, let him have missed that.

But Dustin had seen, and then had been tossed onto the floor by this double-dyed bitch, who seemed to want to make his life hell. Now, his anger flared white-hot. All the pain and misery hed endured over the last few days suddenly boiled up and he screamed at her in rage, as he threw her across the room.

Suddenly horrified, he cringed as she thudded to the floor.

Lifting her head, Marita felt a stab of pain and slumped back down. "Guess I... asked for that," she muttered, trying to catch her breath. "Ooof..." Inwardly, she felt a small thrill. If he could do that at the right moment... Seeing that he was again watching the tape, she slowly got to her knees, checking herself for injuries.

"Sorry," he mumbled, eyes glued to the TV. There was just enough hostility in his voice to let her know that he wasn't sorry at all now that he saw she was okay. On the screen, the old man was fondling his lover as Alex slobbered and sucked at his cock. Dustin couldn't tear his eyes away.

There was no sound, and for that he was oddly grateful, seeing all too clearly the apparent eagerness of his beloved as he serviced the old man. A sob caught in his throat. He had to find Alex. A thought suddenly occurred to him and he grabbed for the envelope in which the tape had been delivered.

Marita crawled over to Dustin, and squatted beside him as he looked at the envelope. The return address was clearly written on it.

"I guess there's nothing I can say that will prevent you from going," she muttered. She placed a hand on his knee, gently. How the hell have they regressed him so far and so fast, she wondered, as she watched Krycek on the screen, nestling in the Smoker's lap after swallowing his come. "You're right, you know... it's time to go."

The tears were flowing down Dustin's face unheeded as he watched the events unfold. When at last the tape finished playing, he rose to his feet without a word and went into his bedroom to pack, ignoring Marita totally.

By the time she followed him into the room, he was throwing his clothes into a soft-sided case.

Marita nodded and went to the phone, reserving two tickets on the next flight to DC

Dustin hated redeye flights. He always felt clammy and disgusting afterward, and this was no exception. He and Marita left the Dulles airport in a rental car, with her driving toward Crystal City.

Dustin hadn't spoken more than monosyllables to her since he had thrown her across the room the previous night. He was locked in a world where he seemed to suffer the pain that Alex was going through over and over again. She glanced at him as he sat, set-jawed, huddled in the seat beside her, and tried to order what she needed to tell him, so that he'd take it in and not reject it.

"Dustin... I need you to hear me, now. When we get there, the door will be opened by a woman, Greta. She's tough, but I've stopped her before. Remember how I taught you to grab the throat? I'll want you to do that after she calls the Smoker. Take her into the next room. We don't want the Smoker to see you just yet. Disable Greta while I deal with the Smoker. Hopefully I can disable or distract him, then get the upper hand and make him tell me where Alex is. But he can't see you or he'll try to take you, too. Trust me, Dustin. I *know* him." She looked at him, willing him to understand. "Dustin?"

He turned to look at her, eyes glowing with pain from his too-pale face. He nodded curtly. "Disable Greta, and hide. Right." He fell silent for a minute or two, and then seemed to shake himself out of his lethargy.

"At least Ill be with him. You understand that, don't you?" Biting his lip he turned back to study his knotted fingers, excluding her once more.

Marita sighed. She knew how he felt, but had she ever seen someone so in love?

"Yes, Dustin, youll be with him." But at what cost, and what shape will Alex be in when you get to him? she asked herself. Not to mention Alex would just about die if he knew Dustin had seen him like that.

"Alex? Alex, baby?" Karl pushed open to door to the suite that the Smoker had allocated to them, and looked around cautiously. Alex was sitting in a chair beside the window, rocking himself slowly with his eyes closed. Lost in his own world, he didn't respond to Karl's voice.

Crossing the room, Karl knelt beside Alex, his hands coming to rest on the man's knees.

"Come on, Alex. It's Karl."

Alex flinched backwards, hugging himself, rocking harder. Softly, singsong, he repeated the phrases that comforted him, held him together. "Good boy, pretty boy," he said. "Shouldn't have run. Told me I was such a good boy." He stared into space. "Daddy said I was a pretty boy." He hugged himself tighter, shivering. "So cold in here."

Karl gazed at Alex, wondering just what the hell he could do, and then finally, he sighed.

"This is fucked!" He yelled at the camera that was mounted in the corner of the room. "What good is taking revenge from a sad shell like this? He doesn't even fucking know me." Standing quickly and abruptly turning, he left the room and went looking for the Smoker, anger temporarily making him strong.

At the sound of a voice raised in anger, Alex closed his eyes, flinching from an expected blow.

The Smoker had just come into the guesthouse, with a tray of bread, a glass, and a bottle of water. He set them on the table and looked at Karl.

"No good?" He smiled. "Don't you know the joy of the head game, Karl? Why, that's half the fun! How's my boy? Shall I show you how to play?"

Warily following the Smoker back to Alex's side, Mackey stood, arms folded, and scowled.

"Just look at him. Where's the fun if he's already broken beyond repair." He aimed a kick at the chair in which Alex was sitting, provoking a whimper from the man who huddled there. "I want him to know that Im in charge now, and to regret it forever."

Walking around Alex's chair, the Smoker stopped in front of him and caught his face in a hand, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone gently. "Alex, he said softly. "Why are you here, Alex? What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Alex swallowed. His eyes were closed, but he nuzzled his Daddy's hand. "I... I... betrayed Karl. My only friend... but Sergei... he killed them."

"Then you shouldn't have run, boy," the Smoker said angrily, slapping Alex's face, hard.

Reflexively turning his face with the slap, Alex opened his eyes and looked at the Smoker balefully. "I had to run. Or try to. He was sick and needed help... moi Karl."

The Smoker looked at Karl with a cruel twist of his lips. "You see?"

"He doesn't know me. He doesn't know what he did to me and he wont know its me doing what I want to do to him. This isnt what I want." Karl was furious. "After all I've been through, he has to understand, or it will all be for nothing.

Karl took hold of Alex's shoulder and shook it roughly, demanding, "Alex, tell me about Dustin. Come on. Tell me who you love best."

"Who? I don' know Dustin." He shook his head, but the Smoker grabbed him.

"Yes, you do, Alex. You know Dustin. What do you call him? 'Little cub,' isnt that right? Come now, Alex."

Alex sobbed, and hung his head. "Never knew a little cub... little Jeffy, but no little cub."

The Smoker looked at Mackey. "Tell him. Tell him he betrayed you, and how in time, he'll understand."

Mackey growled. This was killing him. How could he end it? How could he get this evil old beast to leave him alone with Alex?

"Alex?" he addressed the cringing occupant of the chair. "Dustin is your lover. He's In LA. You remember?" He paused, waiting for Alex to respond, but Alex only sniffed loudly before beginning to sob quietly, his expression apparently without comprehension. "I don't know what you mean, Mackey said. I don't know how to remind him. Help me?"

The Smoker sighed. "Forget Dustin, Karl. Alex is in the gulag. You've got to bring him home from there. Start at the gulag. Now, I've got some things to do, so I'm going to leave you here with him. If you want to coax him, there's food and water in the next room. Just remember to use them only to reward him, or to get information. He won't hurt you.."

Mackey didnt turn until the outer door of the guesthouse slammed shut.

Alex cringed in the chair. "Karl? Moi Karl? Did I... I'm sorry, moi Karl."

Dustin was hopping with impatience, his heart thumping as Marita drove them out to Crystal City.

"Are you going to tell me anything useful about where we're going?" After a pause, he muttered, "I'm sorry. You do know that I'm really afraid about this, don't you? I hope some day we'll be able to actually talk to each other without all this fear getting in the way."

Marita drove, her hands clenched on the steering wheel.

"I hope so, too." She tried a smile, but it didn't feel right, so she shook her head. "I'm afraid, too, if it does you any good. I know what they do out there." She shook her head again. "Hopefully we'll make it in time. Have you ever... Dustin, you ever done any... movies on the CIA's mind control experiments?"

"Have I personally? No. That cold war stuff is so" He broke off, horror dawning as he realized the import of her words. "You think that they might be going to do that to Alex? Why would they want to? He's on our side, isn't he?" The thought of Alex sitting tied to a chair while lights flashed in his eyes and someone intoned in a hollow voice "Forget... forget",' made him want to smile.

Marita frowned at Dustin and pursed her lips. "No. I don't think it. I know it. That's how they get him to do what he does. They take away his free will, and while he's in their control, he does what they ask. But--. Do you remember what happens to a person when he *realizes*, suddenly, what has been done to him? When he *doesn't* fully forget whats been done to him, when the personality... dissociates? Disintegrates? I've seen men go mad, Dustin. If you can remember from your movies... remember how they helped those people. Think about how to talk to them. I'm going to get you to Alex, but you may have to baby-sit him. I don't know what shape he'll be in."

"But I don't know what to do! I don't have a clue." Dustin's sudden panic was total. His face lost all color and he drew blood by clenching his fists until his nails cut his skin. "Tell me how to help him. You have to."

Marita gently took his hand so he wouldn't cut himself further. "You have to talk to him from where he is. How does he see you, do you know?"

Hands shaking, Dustin frowned as he desperately tried to dredge up some sort of answer. They'd had so little time together.

"I I don't know. He called me his little cub. I don't know why. He stabbed someone for me. Told me that I was his pet. He told me that I would learn to top Karl Mackey, and that he would always tell me the truth and not lie, and and I don't know! I don't know. What can I tell you?" He broke off, shaking his head angrily.

Marita turned onto a driveway. "Stabbed someone for you... little cub... top Karl. Do you think he was protective of you? Or saw you as himself, in a way? A... chance, a second chance, to get it right?"

She fell silent to concentrate on the narrow, ill-defined track. It was a back route into the estate. The element of surprise was a valuable thing.

Dustin was out of the car almost before Marita had parked, and stood, hopping from foot to foot as he waited for her to step out herself and lock it.

"I'm afraid for him," he said hoarsely, following as she moved forward at last. "This is like the movies, only there's no popcorn, and no safe seat to huddle down into. How are we going to do this?"

"Very carefully," Marita said tersely. "Stay right behind me, and when I say right behind me, I want to feel your breath on my neck. When we get inside, I'll tell you who to take out, if it needs doing." She would try to do it all herself, but just in case...

Checking to see that he was behind her, she walked to the back door, slipping inside silently, and motioning for Dustin to follow. The next door opened into the kitchen where a middle-aged woman was cooking soup. Marita whispered to Dustin, "Knock her out if she causes trouble." She didn't think the woman would, she looked easy to intimidate, but Marita needed to build Dustin's self-confidence.

Swallowing his nerves, Dustin pressed close behind her, trying to keep his steps small enough that he didn't actually tread on her heels. As they entered the kitchen he felt the sweat stand out on his brow. Marita had produced a small gun, and the woman at the stove had no time to react before she was seized, her mouth covered while Marita shoved the gun into her back.

"Find something to bind her, Dustin." The voice was low, but the intensity told the tale. He didn't question, rummaging in drawers until he came up with a reel of packing tape, and bringing it back to Marita with an unfocussed, wild-eyed look.

Marita tied the woman's hands behind her back swiftly. She similarly bound the woman's feet, and taped her mouth. After checking to see she was bound fast, Marita nodded at Dustin and continued, flattening herself against the wall, advancing with her gun held ready.

They tiptoed around the kitchen and peered through the half opened door to the hallway beyond. Everything seemed quiet.

"I know where he used to keep his prisoners. If he hasnt changed his mind, we need to get down into the basement," she whispered. "It's this way, come on." Silently, she crept through the door on stealthy feet, with Dustin, satellite, in orbit. They were almost to the door at the opposite side of the hall when the voice fell bluntly on them, causing them both to jump in fear.

"Ah, Marita, so good of you to bring him at my request. You must be Dustin. How happy I am to meet you at last."

Marita scowled. "I didn't bring him here. He came for Alex." She stuck her gun into the Smokers ribs. "Now. Tell us where to find him. Sir," she added sarcastically.

"Why, how melodramatic of you, my dear. Of course I will. I was awaiting your arrival. I believe that you will find that Alex is very comfortable. Do, please follow me." The Smoker lit up, drew in a drag with a smile of satisfaction, turning from the route to the dungeon, leading them towards the front door.

"Come on," Marita instructed Dustin, stepping closer to him and keeping her gun out. As they followed the Smoker, Marita kept a close eye on Dustin. He won't get you, not if I can help it.

With a smile that was almost a sneer, the Smoker led the way out and across the grounds to a small cabin. Pushing the door open, he stood aside for the two of them to enter, and then motioned for them to pass to the right of the doorway, into a room which had a large observation window through which could be seen two men.

"I advise silence. They need quiet, and they can hear you if you raise your voice. Of course," he added, with an amused glance in Dustin's direction, "You are at liberty to take whatever action you see fit, although the repercussions to Alex's health might not be what hope."

Marita watched Alex and Karl with a rising disgust for the Smoker. She schooled her features to impassivity, the only sign of her distress a slight set to her jaw.

In the room, Alex was lying with his head in Karl's lap, keening softly as Karl stroked his hair. Karl offered him a piece of bread, and he flinched. Karl tried to give it again, but Alex shook his head. "It's a trick..."

"You can have it. I brought it for you."

"Good boy... pretty boy. Can't eat or Sergei will get angry."

Karl stroked his hair. "You're a good boy Alex. Here..."

Mewling, Alex turned his head, looking for comfort. He saw the familiar zipper. Sergei would let him eat if he sucked on him. He pulled the zipper down, taking out Karl's cock.

Karl, horrified yet enthralled, which horrified him more, could only stare. Finally, he got himself together and tried to push Alex away, but Alex only keened louder, and nuzzled in closer. "Please... let me be good."

Marita studied Dustin uneasily.

Dustin's breath was shortening as he watched, sickened.

"What the hell have you done to him?" he whispered, gorge rising as he watched Karl fending Alex off, while Alex sobbed and tried to service him.

"This is Alex Krycek as he really is, the Smoker insisted. I've brought him to a place of safety. Go in if you think that you can do better than Karl. There's nothing holding you back." The old man's eyes shone with evil good humor.

Marita cut her eyes to Dustin, knowing that there wasn't anything she could do, if Dustin was bound and determined to go.

Alex had finally succeeded in taking Karl deep, closing his eyes. This was right; this was good. He was sucking Sergei's cock and the old man would love him. He didn't even want food, now. He just wanted to suck, and be safe.

"Alex!" Karl groaned. He knew he should push Alex away. Or should he? If it comforted Alex... "Alex, do you know who I am?"

"Master Sergei."

Karl sighed. How had he become Sergei all of a sudden?

"No, Alex... it's me, it's Karl."

"Karl? Tell him I'm sorry... didn't mean to betray him."

Dustin swore under his breath. He couldn't stand this any more.

"Where are they?" he hissed at the old man.

Wordlessly, the Smoker indicated the way, and as Dustin moved in the indicated direction, shot out a hand to prevent Marita from following.

"You and I can have a chat while they are renewing their acquaintance."

As Alex heard the door open, he whimpered, lifting his head and releasing Mackey's cock. Instantly he cowered back against Mackey.

Mackey put an arm around Alex, hugging him. "Alex...?" He looked at Dustin bearing down on him and spoke quickly, "I -- Dustin. He won't know you. He barely knows me. He's 15 and in the gulag. We have to... have to try to talk him out."

Dustin had been heading for Mackey, his fists raised. Hearing the words through a red haze of fury, he paused.

"What do you mean?" he growled. "What have you done to him?"

Alex knew the other man was angry. He pressed against Karl, wide eyed and shivering. He didn't know what he'd done, but it had to be something.

"Don't... don't hurt me. I'll be a good boy... a pretty boy. Just don't hurt me. I'm sorry... so sorry." Part of him knew that the man would probably enjoy his cringing and come to claim him. He lowered his eyes as he had been trained to do. "Be a good boy."

"I haven't done anything," Karl said. "It's him -- the Smoker." He rubbed Alex reassuringly, thinking grimly, Dustin wasn't in the gulag. What can he know? It felt good to have an edge over Dustin once more. Relishing his renewed status, Karl sneered, "Lovely man. Have you met him yet?"

Dustin stood over the two of them, while Karl petted and soothed Alex into silence, coaxing until he finally accepted the bread he had been offered.

"I " Dustin didn't know what to say. Sinking to his knees beside their chair, he tried his best to break through the Alex's trance. "Please, Alex. Please come back to me. Don't forget me." He reached to stroke Alex's hair. "I love you so much."

Alex stiffened, but he knew he must not pull away, or he'd be punished. Who was this man, and why didnt he just let Alex blow him? He said he loved Alex, but Alex knew that was a lie. Forget... forget him? Who was he?

In a child's voice, he whimpered as Dustin touched him, then dared to ask. "Who are you? You must be new here. Never seen you before. What's your name?"

"Please, my Alex, you must know me." Dustin was frantic. "You're the one I love. I can't lose you."

Seeing no alternative, Dustin turned to Karl at last.

"You know what's happening. Tell me, please." The agony in his eyes as he faced Mackey was all too plain. "Help me, Karl. Help him."

Karl sighed. "I can try. Hold him. Try holding him tightly, loving him. Sometimes that gets through. If he shivers, tighten your hold. Tell him youll protect him. Tell him your name." Or would that frighten him? "Dustin, pretend you're a young boy in the gulag, shoved in the dungeon, too. Offer to be his friend."

Moving in, Dustin slipped his arms around Alex, pressing up against him and Karl.

"I love you, Alex. Please, baby, it's Dustin. I'm here with you. Help me bear this." Karl was holding them both now, stroking and soothing. "Alex, love, please don't shut me out."

Alex shivered. "Don't know a Dustin... never did." He whimpered as the man pressed tighter to him, but relaxed as Karl hugged him again. Alex had been given to Dustin by Karl, so he must be okay. Alex sniffed, and looked at Dustin.

A flash of memory... those eyes... a smell. He sniffed for the scent again. Where did he know this man from? Confused, he reached out a hand to stroke the other mans face. "Dust...?"

Heart in his mouth, Dustin petted Alex's hair, and then leaned in to whisper, "You stabbed that leather man for me, Alex. You saved me. I love you." He was afraid to do more than hold Alex, though it was a relief just to touch him. At least he still lived, and somewhere deep inside him was the man that had forged Dustin's love. "Come on, my love, please. Come back to me. I need you."

Alex stiffened. "I stabbed --." Had he hurt someone? Sergei had punished him very cruelly the last time he'd laid a hand on another man in vengeance. Leather man -- a boss? He'd stabbed a boss? He didn't remember it, but if this man, somehow familiar, said so, then it must be true. He shimmied back against the wall, whipping his head from side to side in denial, looking for Sergei.

"No, I didn't." Memories arose of the Pit -- long weeks of starvation, supplementing the meager ration of water with snow. He began to shiver again.

Karl looked at Dustin, shaking his head.

Dustin took Alex in his arms once more.

"You were good. You are good, Alex. You know that I'm here to be your reward. Come back to me, baby, please?"

Alex whimpered. "Trick." Sergei never rewarded him, not anymore. He didn't deserve it. But maybe this man wanted to use him. Was that what he was trying to say? Alex looked at him hopefully. "I'll be good for you. Just don't hurt me. What do you want?"

Karl handed Dustin a piece of bread and some water. "Here. Try these. Sometimes they help."

Breaking off a piece of the bread, Dustin held it to his confused lover's lips.

"Here, baby. Please eat for me. I love you so much." A thought occurred to him and he fumbled in his pocket for a second, drawing out a chocolate bar that he had bought at the airport. Looking to Mackey for permission, he began to peel away the wrapper. Alex watched Dustin warily. Very occasionally the guards had chocolate, and they'd teased him like this,

knowing how he loved it. His real father, before he had gone away, would often give him chocolate as a treat. It made him feel warm, and loved. Looking at the man, he dared to grin. He hadn't seen his father in years, and -- had he come to take him home? Away from the gulag, and his Daddy? Take him home for real?

"Papa?" Alex asked tentatively.

Karl watched. Alex had never - oh, of course. Dustin was the right age to be Alex's father when he had given Alex to the Smoker. Yarma was on thin ice, and Mackey needed to warn him.

"Careful, Dustin..."

"Karl, I'm flying blind here. Help me. Give me something more than be careful. What can I do? I can't bear to see him like this." Dustin's voice broke, as he turned to Alex. "Baby, my name is Dustin. I'm not your papa. I just love you, do you hear me?" He pressed a square of chocolate in between Alex's quivering lips. "I'd give you anything. Tell me what you need."

"Cold."

"He thinks youre his father -- his real father, Mackey offered. He loved his real father. When he says Daddy, he means the Smoker."

"Daddy?" Alex said. "Daddy always said I was a good boy, a pretty boy. Did Papa give the chocolate?" He sucked at his piece slowly, wanting it to last. He laid his head on Dustin's shoulder. "Did Papa send you? Is he taking me home?" Alex's tone was hopeful.

"The Smoker left Alex there in the gulag, saying he'd be back 'soon,'" Mackey interjected. "'Soon' wasn't for five years, and even then..."

"God!" Dustin hung his head. What use was there to even try? Without hope, what was the point of being here? A sob escaped him as he sat, utterly defeated. Raising his eyes to meet Karl's, he shook his head. "I love him so much."

Turning to Alex, he took off his jacket and tucked it around the naked shoulders.

"Don't be cold, love. Let me keep you warm."

Alex shivered, pressing closer to Dustin, and wrapped an arm around him. "He killed them... killed them all. I think I had a little cub once." Confused, Alex paused, biting his lip. A flash of memory - the steakhouse with Dustin - uncatchable as a puff of smoke.

"I can't remember!" Alex cried. "I'm sorry, I don't know... he killed them, though, and he'll kill my little cub, too. Or maybe he has already."

Alex looked from Mackey to Dustin, holding Dustin tight.

"Looks like he's yours, anyway," Karl noted with a sigh. "I don't know how to help you. He's never acted quite this way before. I don't know who or... where he is right now. I believe he's talking about you, though." Not wanting to speak aloud and upset Alex, he pantomimed using a pen and paper.

Without releasing Alex from his arms, Dustin fumbled into his pocket to extract a small diary, offering it to Mackey, who pulled the pen from the holder in the spine and flipped it open,

Alex stirred uneasily, and Dustin stroked him, rocking him gently. "Hush now, beloved. I won't let them hurt you." He offered a second square of the precious chocolate.

"Always hurt. Never love. Not no more." Alex licked at the chocolate, then took it slowly. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet taste. Maybe... maybe this man would love him -- love him and leave him like the others? "Do you know Alex?" He remembered the man earlier, who had given him water. "He only has one arm."

Karl looked up at this. He was furiously writing in the notebook, the story of Alex and the younger boys and especially little Jeffy - the one he tried to protect at the end. He wrote about how Alex had been made to watch.

A question at the end: "Is Little Cub a name for Little Jeffy? He's protective of you."

The observation room was full of tension. The Smoker had watched the first few minutes after Dustin's entrance with interest, but once it had become apparent that he was not going to attack Mackey, he had lost his enthusiasm.

"You may stay here and watch if you like, but very little will happen now. We'll remedy that tomorrow, perhaps." He smiled, puffing on the ever-present cigarette. "Id like you to join me in conference at seven. Be on time, please."

He strode out the door, taking the key to the room where Alex was being held.

Marita nodded, watching, hopeful. He'd ordered silence. Warned her that she could be heard if she raised her voice. She waited, wondering if she could use that. She supposed they couldn't see her, but maybe...

Inside the room, Alex clung to Dustin, who now had tears rolling down his cheeks. Karl was scribbling furiously in a small book, and she was not able to see what he was writing. Alex's face looked almost angelically pure as he nestled into Dustin's shoulder. When Dustin spoke, Alex stirred, but didn't seem to be too afraid.

"Alex, you're Alex. You're the one. You have only one arm, see, my baby? It's you."

"No, he... Alex gave me water and then he... loved me. Sucked me the way it feels so good. Said he'd betrayed Fox Mulder and that's why he lost his arm. Do you know who that is?"

In the book, Mackey scribbled: Fox Mulder. FBI agent.

Marita paused with her hand poised to rap the glass. She didn't want to startle them. Maybe the mention of Mulder...

Alex stirred against Dustin. "I got two arms, see?" Looking at them, Alex stiffened. One was fake -- prosthetic. He frowned. "When did that happen?" he asked in a frightened voice.

"Oh, God, baby!" Dustin held him close, crushing him against his chest as he thought frantically for something to say. "Alex, love, look at me." When the thickly fringed eyes were raised to his, he brushed his lips over Alex's face. "It's me, Dustin. See, I'm wearing your collar. Please come back to me."

Alex's heart pounded. This man was holding him too tightly - he couldn't breathe! He tossed his head from side to side, squirming until he felt the arms around him loosen. He looked at the man, puzzled. That voice - there was something about it.

"Collar? No, can't be mine, I don't..." He reached up to stroke the collar, rags of memory drifting and fraying. 'Do you like the present, Dustin?' 'It's a fucking dog collar -- what's to like?'

Mackey tapped Dustin on the shoulder to show him the notebook.

Glancing at the essay Mackey had written, he tried his damnedest to assimilate the information. Dustins head was whirling, and he felt nauseous. Whatever had been done to his lover was far too complex for him to fathom, much less to untangle. Sobbing, he laid his head against Alex.

"Baby, help me understand, please help me. I don't know what to do."

Alex held Dustin, running a finger along his neck, and the collar. "Did I...? You...?" He blinked, staring into the familiar and loving eyes. Tentatively, he kissed Dustin's lips.

They were soft, and full, and tasted so familiar. Alex deepened the kiss, flicking his tongue against Dustin's teeth. So, so familiar. That voice... his own, replying. 'What do you want from me?' 'Honesty. Devotion. Obedience.' 'I--I don't understand.'

Alex licked at Dustin's ear, inhaled the warm scent of his skin, as gossamer threads of recent memory twined confusingly with the long-ago reality that trapped his mind.

Karl was frowning, apparently trying to think of a solution to the problem. Marita scratched on the glass, and Mackey seemed to recall that it was an observation window. He walked across to it, asking, What is it?

"Mackey, it's Marita..."

"Marita?" Karl spoke low, casting a swift glance over his shoulder at the two lovers, who were sharing a kiss that seemed fulfill a mutual need. Dustin rocked Alex gently, holding and kissing him with a fierce, gentle intensity. I don't know what to do for them, for either of them. Alex is so far gone I don't know if he'll come out of it again time." Mackey sidled over to the door, unlocked it and left to join Marita behind the glass.

Marita shrugged. "I have some old phrases, but I don't know if they'll work anymore, if I can even remember which is for what." She frowned, trying to recall. "Tell him... I can't remember if this is the right one. 'Be good for your daddy' is one, but it either snaps him out or sends him deeper. Maybe does both, depending. But be careful, when he snaps out of it... he does it in a big way."

When their attention turned back inside the room, Alex was still kissing Dustin as though he wished he could climb inside his mouth. Dustin appeared petrified. It was plain to see why. The man he loved was acting like a child, and Dustin knew - that too was apparent - that he was way out of his depth. He could feel Alex was interested in him sexually, although the fear of what might happen if he let him go further while he was in this strange child-like state was there for all to see. Terrified that he might do something irreparable, it was obvious that Dustin feared he wouldn't ever see his sardonic love again.

Disengaging gently, Dustin held Alex away from him by the shoulders while he gazed into the cloudy eyes.

"Alex! Come on back to me, love. I need you."

Alex looked into the man's eyes, seeing that he was distraught. He knew he'd done something wrong. But what? His voice cracked with emotion.

"What do you want? Tell me and I'll do it. I promise to be good. I've just forgotten what it is." He thought for a moment, biting his lip. Maybe he was supposed to give this man a blowjob. Yes, that was it! He smiled. Here was something he could do! He lowered his head, unbuttoning and unzipping the man's pants. Taking the flaccid cock into his mouth, he curled up against the man's thigh and began to suck.

Dustin's voice broke as he sobbed, and hesitantly pulled away from the sucking mouth.

"Alex, lover, you are good. You're a good boy, but you need help." He looked around for Mackey, worried when he didnt see him. "Help me, Karl, please help me," he called. He wrapped his arms around Alex again, and stroked him reassuringly while his eyes stared grimly at the door, willing Mackey to return. "You don't have to suck me. I just want you to stay with me and be my love."

Alex whimpered. He didn't understand. He wasn't sure what to do. Dustin had refastened his clothing. Alex had failed, and they would be angry with him.

"I don't know what you want!" he wailed, rubbing his cheek on Dustin's knee. Love? What was love? It only happened in fairytales. In a dull, flat voice he stated, "Sergei says I'm bad and no one will love me."

Dustin, lost in despair, thought that Alex had fallen silent, then realized he was repeating, in a low whisper, "What do you want? What do you want?" Before Dustin could comment Alex crouched before him on his hands and knees in abject submission and, in a pathetic parody of seduction, asked, "Would you like to fuck me?" Alex felt a stir of hope. Maybe he'd got it right finally. Sometimes-- in fact often-- that's what they wanted. Hopefully, he waited.

Mackey reentered the room. "Theres a phrase that will either make him or break him." He jotted it down in the notebook. "Careful with it."

Nodding his thanks, Dustin took it and read the words. Not yet ready to invoke them, he said, "Baby, listen to me, I love you. Sergei lied to you. I love you and I will always love you. Do you understand?" Alex subsided to sit on his heels and wait. He said nothing, but there was still fear looming behind his eyes.

Dustin looked again at the phrases. They seemed meaningless, but at Mackey's gestured urging, he sighed, and read aloud, --"Be good for your Daddy, Alex. Come on now."

Alex bit his lip. In distress, he raised his eyes to Dustin's. His Daddy-- his real Papa-- was back? Looking back at Dustin, he trembled, crouching before him, looking into his eyes until the door opening attracted his attention.

Dustin held him to reassure him, and when the two of them looked at the door together, they seemed like twin children, confused, and afraid. Almost unconsciously, Mackey moved to stand protectively before them.

As the Smoker came into the room, with Marita in tow, he smiled urbanely. Looking at the two identical men he rubbed his hands together.

"I'm so glad that you've found your heart's desire, Dustin. I may call you Dustin, may I not?"

Alex shivered as the voice trickled down to him through sands of time. Desperately he clung to Dustin and buried his head against his chest.

Lower lip quivering, he sobbed, "Don't leave me with him, Papa. Don't make me go with him." This was his Papa, and he was about to walk out of his life, leaving him with a man whose eyes chilled his soul.

"He scares me, Papa. You told me he'd take good care of me, but his eyes, Papa. Please, don't leave me here. Take me with you!" Crying hard now, his tears soaked his Papa's shirt through.

"Oh, God!" Dustin's voice was panic laden. What the hell had happened? Alex was suddenly sobbing like a small child. His blind attempts to help seemed to be taking his beloved further into his childhood. Accusingly, he asked the Smoker, "What have you done to him?"

"You think that I bear responsibility for his sudden, distressing lapse? How refreshingly perceptive of you, Dustin. There is no Alex Krycek. All he is, as you can see, is a mass of hypnotic commands and programs. You'd do far better to leave him behind, you know." The Smoker turned to Marita. "Tell him what you know, my dear. It's such a joy to hear you speak."

"What I know?" Marita began. She could barely think, let alone speak coherently. She hated to see her friend like this. "Since Alex was a little boy, he's been programmed to do what others tell him. When he tries to refuse - it stresses his system so that he reverts to a state where he cant. Its difficult to understand. I couldn't tell you it all now. There are books that explain. If you have the stomach for it, I'll give you some to read."

It was all she could do not to strike the Smoker. "You explain the process so simply," she stated, hoping Dustin followed her logic.

Swearing a blue streak, Dustin attempted to disengage Alex, and rose to his feet. Alex wailed and hung on to his leg, refusing to let him go. After a moment Karl intervened, speaking sharply to Alex, until Alex turned to him, burying his face into the fabric of Karl's trousers instead.

Dustin was furious. He took the few paces needed to bring him eye to eye with the Smoker; clumsily drawing the gun that Marita had given him out of his pocket.

"I want Alex back. Give him to me, as he was, or you're a dead man. I've killed before, you know. I'm not afraid to use this."

The Smoker raised his cigarette to his mouth, grinning with evil good humor, and then blew sharply on the cylinder at his lips. A small projectile shot from the smoking tube, striking Dustin in the neck. With a look of utter astonishment, Dustin crumpled and fell to the ground.

Alex immediately let go of Mackey and went to the fallen man's side. "Papa? Papa!" He lifted a limp arm and put it over himself, curling up beside Dustin. "Papa. Papa," he sobbed and faced the Smoker. In a voice that was full of pain, he implored, "Please help my Papa."

The Smoker ignored Alex, choosing instead to stoop and relieve Dustin of his gun. Having emptied the clip, he replaced it in Dustin's pocket. "Bring him," he called in a raised voice, turning to leave the room. When Alex scrambled after him, the Smoker kicked the sobbing man-child in the gut.

Two men suddenly materialized with a stretcher, loaded the unconscious Dustin onto it and spirited him away.

Alex was once again on his knees, holding his stomach. When he turned around, he saw a blonde woman rushing after the Smoker, and a dark haired man looking at him curiously. He stared at the man as he tried to stand. It hurt.

The man knelt beside him and took him into his arms, rocking him, crooning in a light, pleasant baritone.

"Come, Alyosha, it's time for your nap. Papa will be back directly. He won't let anyone hurt you." Those were the right things to say. Alex permitted Mackey to lead him to the bed and tuck the blankets around him. At last, Alex slept, his thumb in his mouth.

Spender turned as the door opened, and a furious Dustin Yarma stormed through it.

He'd watched on a monitor as Marita brought books to Dustin, and smiled thinly as hed waded into them with dogged determination. It would be interesting to see how this man, who by all accounts was completely self absorbed, would react to the science by which Alex, the man he professed to love so much, had been shaped and conditioned. Seeing Alex the way he was had certainly thrown him; now it was time to play. The Smoker would have enjoyed a reaction of horror and rejection from Dustin, but one worked with what one was given. He stroked a videotape as he ruminated.

"Dustin," he said, acknowledging the younger mans presence. "How was your reading?" Lighting a cigarette, he leaned back in his chair.

I want Alex set free. Dustin's voice was a smoky threat as he approached the wing chair where the old man sat. "Let him go. Set him free. He's not a thing to barter with or use as you will; he's a man. He's my man."

Dustin stood over the Smoker, his hands clenched into fists as his mind raced to find some way - any way at all - to free the man he loved. Finally, he sighed. "Please let him go."

Spender laughed. "Of course he's mine to barter with or use as I will. His father gave him to me, years ago. In exchange for his life, and my silence on his whereabouts, he gave me his son -- his beautiful, beautiful son." Spender took a drag on his cigarette contemplatively, and indicated that Dustin was to be seated. After staring at the chair for several long moments, Dustin sat. Only then did Spender continue, "What would you give me in exchange for him, Dustin? If I can bring him back, that is. You must realize Alex's value to me."

Coldness gripped Dustin's stomach. Sweat ran trickles down his scalp, and his heart beat a tattoo as Dustin pondered the question. Finally, he raised his eyes to the old man, asking, "What would you take for him?"

Spender smiled cruelly. "It would have to be something of equal worth, and beauty. Perhaps someone who would serve me in equal capacity." He took a long, slow drag, eyes closed. He took just as long to exhale, opening his eyes and looking directly at Dustin. "Yourself. Yes, in exchange for Alex, I think I could accept you. You have fire. I appreciate that." He took another drag, adding, "Alex grows weak. You know, he may not make it back."

The stunned silence was broken when Dustin snorted with harsh laughter.

"You ask me to give myself to you in exchange for Alex. Then you tell me that he might not be able to overcome your brainwashing. Do you take me for an idiot? Give me a realistic price, old man. Your terms are laughable." He closed his mouth with a snap, pressing his fingers against the gun, which hed been surprised to find in his pocket.

"You must not want him very badly. I can only infer that you never loved my Alex at all. It's wrong to lie about matters of the heart, Dustin," Spender said sadly. "How will he feel to know you never loved him as Mackey did?"

"Don't play games with me, said Dustin, fiercely. "I love him a damned sight more than you'll ever understand. Karl? I guess Karl loves him too - or did, anyway, but he's not Karl's. He's mine. Give him back to me." Dustin's fingers were pressed, white on the arm of the chair in which he had been induced to take a seat.

Though Dustin had skimmed through Marita's books, the reality of what had been done to his lover was so dreadful that he didn't want to consider the information, hoping that Spender was the key, the magic key, to Alex's mind.

"He's yours?" Spender laughed again. "Why, Dustin. How could he be yours? No one gave him to you. You're the one with the collar." Spender smiled. "I have a tape for you to watch. I think you'll find it... educational. About your love. Marita has told me how eagerly you watched the little tapes I sent you." Inserting the videocassette into the player behind his desk caused static to fill the small room. A picture of Karl as he must have been the previous day appeared. Dustin could see the burns to his nose and eyelid as he spoke to the Smoker. Bruises stood out, livid on his skin, their ugliness vivid on the huge TV screen.

"Love him?" Mackey was saying. "I adored him, but he betrayed me. He betrayed me the way that he betrays everyone." Dustin could hear the anger in Karl's voice. "I think I'd like to teach him what it feels like."

Hissing his breath out between his teeth, Dustin reflected that this approach was what he and Marita had agreed with Karl. So far, so good, though it wouldn't be the best idea to tell the Smoker that. He growled at the old man.

"Leave my Alex alone. I'm warning you--"

"I have not done a thing to your Alex. Watch, young man." The boy was cocksure and impulsive. Truly, Spender couldn't wait for the axe to fall. Why, he might well kill his only link to Alex regressed as he was. Then young Dustin would be in a pretty pickle. Spender smiled as the tape played on, and Mackey entered Alex's room.

Dustin watched as Karl probed the weals on Alex's buttocks and back, deliberately digging in his nails. He heard Mackey murmuring cruel words to his lover, and saw him enter him, fucking him hard, while Alex whimpered and cried. By the time the show was over, he was again furious.

Spender smiled as he said, "Mackey loves Alex more than anyone, yet that's the way he treats my son. How can I trust you with him? You've known him less than a week. How do I know you won't treat him the same way or worse? Perhaps you'd like to speak to Karl?"

"Speak to Karl? And say what?" Dustin was half out of his chair again as he processed the accusation that Spender had made.

"I love him. What else can I say or do?" He drew the gun, sure that he would be able persuade the evil old man to take him to Alex.

Laughing indulgently, Spender averred, "My dear boy. I merely want you to prove your devotion to my son. You love him? How far would you go for him?" He took a drag, staring off into space. "If you've done your reading, you'll know that even if I gave you Alex back, now, today, he may never be the same. Anyway, I need him for a job." Spender stood up, smiling. "You can't take his place on this one. But maybe the next time. You do look very like him, you know."

Dustin ground his teeth. "How far will I go?" He raised his gun, assuming the two handed stance that Marita had taken such pains to teach him, and looked down the barrel at his target. "Bring him back, or Ill kill you. That's how far I'll go."

Spender smirked, knowing the gun wasn't loaded. Cocking his head to one side, he said, "What does he call you -- Little Cub? Why is that? Because you could never kill anyone? Oh, forgive me, I should say except for Tara. Sweet, sweet, innocent Tara." He pressed a button, and a picture of Tara appeared on the wall. "She would have flipped over Minnow for you. She was beginning to care for you, and to see how Minnow hurt you." Spender walked closer, putting an arm around the aghast Dustins shoulders. "Little Cub, why do you hurt those who would help you?"

Dustin howled in fury, and dug the gun into the Smoker's ribs.

"Back off, you bastard." When the old man didn't move, Dustin gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. The gun issued only a faint click, so he tried again. A terrible realization stole over him, and he stared at the gun that had betrayed him. "What? How?" He raised horrified eyes to the smirking old man who stood beside him. What a fucking idiot I am. Why would he have left the damned thing in my pocket? Dustin drooped.

Spender guided the younger man back to his chair before speaking. "A little impotent, are we, Little Cub? I felt that with your... inexperience, and temper, it would be healthier for us all if you were neutered. So to speak." He took Dustin's face in his hands lovingly. "It would be a shame to have to hurt such a... pretty boy." He said the last singsong, as Alex might have. Leaning forward, he kissed Dustin on the lips. "We have much to go over, young man."

Practically choking, Dustin flung the old man away from him. This situation was so far beyond his comprehension that he had no idea how to deal with it. He scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand in an attempt to eradicate that obscene kiss.

"What do we have to go over? The only thing I want to know is why youve done this to Alex?" He slumped, his fear becoming terror, as he finally understood that he, too, was a prisoner here.

"Alex was always such a good boy," Spender mused, watching blue smoke curl from the tip of his cigarette. "Then he began to get ideas about leaving me. After all I've done for him." Seeing Dustin's skeptical expression, he straightened up a bit. "I put him through the best schools, gave him all my love and wisdom, all I had to give him. A warm bed and no cares in the world."

He pressed a button on the monitor, and the screen flickered for a moment, then showed a view of Alex Krycek curled up in a bed, thumb in his mouth. "Look at him. No cares at all. No cares, because he is seven and all is done for him. But, as you know, no one is seven forever.

On the screen, Marita and Mackey walked into the room, waking Alex. Krycek sat up slowly, shaking his head. Karl and Marita sat on either side of him, stroking his arms.

Spender flipped a switch, and sound that matched the picture filled the office.

"Where am I?" Krycek asked in his normal voice. Then, memories caught up with him and he hung his head, looking sidelong at Marita. "Where's Dustin?"

Spender turned off the monitor with a smile. "Alex wants to leave me. How ungrateful can a man be?"

A faint sound from Dustin drew the Smokers attention. Dustin was white faced, but his jaw was set.

"Take me to him. Please take me to him. I need to see him." Dropping his eyes, Dustin shrank back into the seat, hugging himself. This was going very badly. He wondered if Marita had been on his side for real, or whether she had always intended for him to be caught in this mans web also.

Spender smiled, squatting beside Dustin. "You wish to see Alex, young man? Think that can be arranged." He stood, walking to his desk and pressing a button. "Ms. Covarrubias, Mr. Mackey? Please, come to my office. I need to go over something with the two of you, and Mr. Krycek has a guest."

In his room, Krycek looked at Marita and Karl. "Why am I afraid to ask?"

Spender walked over to take Dustin's arm. "Come. You can see your friend now. Hes told me how he loves you. Why wait?"

Entering Alex's room for the second time, Dustin was in turmoil. He was so scared that his body was covered in sweat; his heart was pounding, and he could proceed no further than pressing his back against the door.

"Alex?" Dustins eyes were closed, and his pulse thrummed so loudly that he thought that he would burst. Please, oh, please be Alex, and not a baby. Please be my strong, brave lover. I thought that I was saving you, but it seems as though I need you to save me. Again.

Krycek leapt off the bed, eyes dark. "Dustin Yarma. What are you doing here? I told you to stay in California, with Marita." His heart swelled to see his lover, and see he was all right, but how long would that last? Spender would get his hooks into him.

Alex was also ashamed. His loose shirt and drawstring cotton pants, hospital clothes made him look terrible - he sure felt it. How could he protect his love when he couldn't even protect himself? Dustin would leave him if he got close enough to see his impotence. Unable to face that, he turned away.

"I never loved you, Dustin." It was a huge lie, but he wished he, Dustin, and Spender - the bastard had to be watching - would believe it.

Dustin gasped, and banged his head back against the door, his face clenched in pain and anger. "No!" he screamed. "You loved me. You love me. Don't do this to me, Alex. I love you too much."

There was a brief silence, before Dustin slowly crumpled, sinking down to the floor with his face in his hands.

"What am I, Dustin? What am I? Im a spy. Spies aren't known for their fidelity or for telling the truth. Both of which you wanted." He sat on the bed. "We're also..." When Alex looked at Dustin, he saw his sadness, his love.

Alex felt darkness wash over him again. He couldn't avoid this. He decided that it was for the best.

"You love me, Dustin? Show it. Come prove it."

As Dustin raised his head, Krycek saw the collar that was around his neck.

*Flash*: A 15-year old Alex, running his fingers over that same collar on a familiar neck.

There was a harshness in his voice as Alex demanded, Where did you get that collar?" He sniffed, smelling the acrid smoke on Dustin. Krycek's voice hitched. "From him? You've been talking to him, haven't you? Haven't you?"

This was killing him. Alex was accusing him of something incomprehensible. He didnt understand what was happening, but this Alex wasnt the man who had been his lover. This was someone else, someone who didnt know him, and who seemed to accuse him of collusion with his enemy Dustin slowly unfastened the collar. Tears streamed down his face but he made no sound as he fumbled the buckle undone and tossed it to lie pathetically at Alex's feet.

"Yeah, I've been talking to him. Your blonde friend brought me. I was" He choked, breath unsteady for a minute before continuing, bitterly. "I was going to let him have me to save you. You must find that funny. More the fool me for loving you, I guess."

"I guess." Alex shut his eyes, taking a ragged breath. "Come here Dustin. Please, sit by me. I do love you... I do. We have to talk." His voice was barely a whisper. Would Dustin hear?

When Dustin didnt speak, Alex filled the void. "You don't love me anyway, Dustin. How can you?"

Dustin didn't know what to do, what to believe. His life had officially entered the twilight zone and he could no longer think straight. He sat on the floor with his back to the door and rocked himself from side to side as the tears continued to wet his face.

Alex forced himself to look at Dustin. His lover seemed not to have heard him. Slowly, he reached for the collar that lay at his feet. As he slid his fingers along its length, he hung his head. It looked as though his lover didn't want him any more. His worst fears were realized. He kissed the collar, smelling Dustin's scent on it.

"I really love you, you know," he sobbed.

Dustin growled. What the hell was this? First he does, then he doesn't. Now, he does again. His mind reeled from the abrupt changes. What the hell was Alex doing? How could he bear this when he had no idea what was truth and what wasnt. He growled again, launching himself at the other man, bearing him back onto the bed, lashing out at him.

Startled, Alex gasped as he got a lapful of 175 pounds of furious Dustin Yarma, flattening him into the mattress. When he could speak, he grunted, "I deserved that."

Inwardly, Alex was smiling, just a bit. Maybe Dustin was learning. Catching Dustin's left ear in his teeth, he whispered, "I never meant I didn't love you. That was for him to hear. He thinks I love you, he'll hurt you, too," Alex gasped. "But, oh, God I love you. I never stopped. It hurt me when you threw down the collar. You - you helped me hang on. I need you, Dustin. I love you. Please, understand. I know I'm pathetic, here, now, and I probably disgust you. But now you see what I've been running from. Please, baby, see that I need you."

Dustin froze. Now what was he up to? He growled again and allowed his anger to wash over him - over the two of them, shaking Alex hard as he pinned him down with his body. His growls gradually became words, as the frantic man attempted to express the emotions that drove him. Angry, random words finally resolved into a chant of, "Love you, you bastard, love you."

At last, panting hard, Dustin paused to catch his breath and actually looked at Alex.

"Jesus!" He lowered his mouth until it touched Alex's.

Though the pain of Dustins assault made Alex wince, he melted almost instantaneously as he was suffused with lust for his lookalike lover. He arched his body up to meet Dustin's; he was hard, and even though he scarcely believed it, he thought Dustin was, too. As Dustin kissed him, Alex put his arm around Dustin's back, clasping his lover to him, opening his mouth wide to receive the kiss. He thrust upwards as he touched his tongue to Dustin's, gasping.

"I am, that. I am, but I love you, too. Oh... Alex couldnt make himself care what the Smoking Man saw. His brain was mush. He was with his lover and he wanted only to make everything right.

Alex was kissing him back, holding him and Alexs mouth was hot against him as Dustin moaned in need. Dustin pressed against him, not sure what was going on, but wanting this contact, needing Alex to hold him.

They rolled together, until Alex lay on top of Dustin, controlling the kisses that grew deeper, sweeter and more desperate. The fingers of Dustin's left hand gripped Alex's hair, while his right slid over the bruised, striped skin to pull Alex closer as Dustin ground his hips against the body of his lover.

"Ah." Alex arched his back as Dustin hit a sore spot. To avoid further pain, he gently took Dustin's arms, laying them against the bed, holding them there. Grinding his erection against his lover's, Alex growled lustily, "God, what you do to me, baby." Dropping his mouth to Dustin's neck, he nipped a ring of love bites across the front creating a shadow of the collar Dustin had removed. "Drive me crazy. Gotta have you." He ran a hand under the silk of the shirt, over the smooth skin beneath. "God, yeah."

He wanted to fuck Dustin, then and there. He dropped his hand to Dustin's fly, probing, seeking... finding the zipper. "Think we should, baby?"

Dustin's body was shaking. He felt drugged. All of his inhibitions, all of his fears faded in the face of Alex's passion. Winding his legs around Alex's hips, he tried to get as close as possible to his lover.

"He loves me; he loves me not. He loves me; he loves me not. Growling again, Dustin sank his teeth into Alex's shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood. "Which is it, you bastard? Which?"

Grinning, Alex thrust hard against Dustin. "Didn't you hear me, love? I said I loved you from hell to breakfast and nothing can keep me from you." Dipping his head again, he canted it to expose his neck to Dustin. "Bite me again, little cub."

Complying, but acting more gently this time, Dustin sucked the abused skin into his mouth, still frantic. Ill never know, will I? I'll never know if you do or you don't. It's too much." He could feel Alex's hands at his belt, and shortly thereafter the cool air playing on his heated erection. Writhing, Dustin shifted his hips to permit the removal of pants and underwear until the two of them could press against each other, flesh to flesh. "Too much," he repeated. "I don't want to love you."

"But you do, don't you?" Alex asked. "I need you. Can't be without you. I know that now." He licked at Dustin's neck, then bit hard. "Need you so, so much." Dropping a hand to Dustin's cock, he stroked it, and then caressed his balls. "Oh, lover... lover," Alex crooned, raising his hips and running his hands from Dustin's thighs up his torso. Putting a knee between Dustin's thighs to part them, Alex asked, "What do you want, baby? Anything for my Dustin."

Alex's hand was moving on his dick, maddeningly slowly, spreading the moisture that oozed from the tip. Dustin arched himself, wanting Alex's touch, wanting more, and needing affirmation of the love that he had come to doubt today.

"M-make me believe you, Alex. Love me. Do whatever you want, but love me." "

I'll love you. Love you so good." Alex used some of the sweet stickiness on his hand to lube Dustin's ass, slipping a finger into that warm, tight, heaven. He gasped as Dustin's opening seemed to suck him in, bending to kiss his lover as he slicked his walls. Capturing Dustin's mouth, Alex refused to release it, even as he removed his fingers, lifted Dustin's hips slightly, pushed in with his cock, felt a give, and finally gained entrance. Wrapped his arm around Dustin's shoulders, he kissed him fiercely.

As Alex claimed his mouth Dustin clawed at him, trying to make him shove in deep. When finally Alex was buried in him to the balls, he held his breath, waiting for the burn to ease, and the wonderful, deep, sweet sensations to begin.

Putting his hand on Dustin's shoulder, he looked down at his lover, sweating beneath him. Alex shoved his hips forward fiercely, to claim him, thrusting harder and harder. He felt like he was coming home with each thrust, familiar tight warmth welcomed its prodigal love. Grunting., Alex dug his nails into the firm mattress on which he'd lain earlier as a seven year old, clinging to sanity by a thread.

That boy remained, but he hid, deep inside. Alex thrust into Dustin fiercely, as if he could banish his demons that way.

A sudden burst of glowing heat licked up Dustin's balls to set his cock alight, and Dustin felt animalistic, unable to express himself other than by screaming, hoarse and shrill, and by sinking his teeth into the flesh of his lover. He came hard, gulping air as he tried to breathe, every muscle rigid beneath Alex's touch.

Krycek slammed himself into Dustin, over and over, trying to lose himself, but he couldnt forget where they were. Reality came crashing back. Dustin ripping the collar off was foremost in his mind, followed by the imagined image of Spender touching his beloved. How Dustin could allow him to take him now was beyond Alex. Love him? How could Dustin love him? He could hope, but Alex was angry. How could he help Dustin when he couldn't even help himself? And Dustin, sweet Dustin, had taken the collar off yet still said he loved him. It was different, wrong.

Alex continued thrusting, over and over, desperate to come after feeling Dustin's release. He couldn't do it. He couldn't come.

Howling his pain and rage, Alex fell onto Dustin, sobbing. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said, crying harder. Rolling off of Dustin, Alex curled up in a ball. "So sorry. I can't be... I can't... Dustin, please hold me. I feel so lost." If Dustin held him, he'd know if Dustin loved him or not.

Dustin leaned over him, taking in his distress. "What? What's the matter, love?" He slid his arms around Alex, pressing in close as the other man shook. "Come on, you're the strong one. Don't let me down. I can't bear it, if you do this.

Arms tightening around Alex, Dustin kissed Alex wherever his mouth touched.

Alex leaned back against Dustin, hoping that if he told him, he'd understand, and not leave -- not stop loving him. "H - how can I keep you safe, keep my promise to you, when Im like this? If I'd never tried to make you mine, you wouldn't be here. You'd be safe, in Hollywood, at a party, not in the home of a madman. Oh, Dustin, I'm so sorry." Finding the collar, Alex brought it to his face, caressing it. "How can you be mine, or want to be, when I can't be yours? No matter how much I want to be!" He rolled over, snuggling against Dustin. "I want to love you -- be loved by you. But this is all I can offer you."

"You have to love me, or it's all over. You can't stop, can't leave me." Dustin spoke fiercely, still clinging tightly to Alex. "It's no good trying to hide your love from that old man. Youve already told him that you love me. He knows everything there is to know about you. He's drugged you and programmed you until he thinks he owns your soul, but he told me that once you do this job for him he'll let you go." He ducked his head, kissed Alex's throat, and then extended his neck, offering it to Alex, inviting the replacement of the collar. "I love you."

Krycek laughed bitterly. "And you believed him -- wait." He stiffened. "The ... you *know* about that stuff? How do you know about that?" He felt a knot of realization and fear in his gut.

To avoid thinking, Alex spoke quickly. "I thought I was free, but I'm not. When I'm free, I'll put the collar back on you. I just. Right now, it doesn't..."

Dustin tried to deal with both of Alexs issues. "Yeah, I know about it. I saw it, Alex. He showed me tapes. Half the time you believed that you were a little kid, and cried for your papa. ." Dustin winced at the expression in Alex's pain-darkened eyes. "Maybe you're not free, baby, but you will be. I promise you that you will be. Just don't ever deny me, please."

Laying his head on Alex's chest, Dustin ceased to speak, merely stroking his lover gently as they snuggled together.

Somehow, knowing that Dustin knew his secret relieved Krycek enough so that he could relax into the arms of his lover.

"So now that you know, I gotta ask you-- don't get me wrong-- but, I gotta know. How can you... you still... respect me after that?" Holding onto Dustin, almost in supplication, Alex lightly stroked Dustin's arm in rhythm with his shallow breaths.

Dustin exhaled softly, tightening his arms around Alex briefly as he did so. Pondering the question caused the little crease to appear at the top of his nose,

"You're just not to be denied," Dustin said, carefully, picking his way through words to piece together his meaning. "I've had more highs and lows over the past week with you than ever before in my life. Bottom line is that you've got me hooked." He rolled to place Alex under him, staring down into cloudy green eyes as he spoke. "I think that you're braver than anyone else I've ever met. A lesser man would have given in - killed himself - or maybe become like Karl, a cardboard figure living a cutout life. You're not like that, Alex. You never will be."

"I ... I've thought about it," Krycek admitted. "Killing myself. But I always figured that, if I did that, he'd win. I'm not willing to give him the satisfaction of breaking me." He bit his lip, acutely aware of the fact that in so many ways, he was already broken. Some would say, beyond repair. Yet...

"Thank you," Alex continued. "Thank you for seeing that Im different. Karl - Dont judge him by what you see. If hes broken, I did that as much as anyone. At his directive, of course, but that doesnt make it right. Karl isnt cardboard. He's been to hell and back. I don't love him like I love you, but I feel responsible for him."

Looking into his love's eyes, Alex tried for levity. "Been in Hollywood for years and one week with me has too many ups and downs. If this were a script, Yarma, would you buy it?" He smiled, and ran his arm lovingly along Dustin's, up to his shoulder and neck.

Dustin let out a shout of laughter. "Buy it? Hell,. I'm going to write it. Youre gonna have your own TV show, baby. It will be a ratings magnet. You'll be a shadowy government agent - let me think. Has to be black ops I expect. You'll lurk in the background, applying pressure to otherwise upright Feds, and bumping off anyone that appears to be interfering with your goals. We cant find out what your goals are or youll lose your air of mystery. Oh, baby, we'll be top of the Nielsens before we know it." He continued to chuckle as Alex fixed him with a stern look.

Alex playfully swatted Dustin's nose.

"Yeah, yeah. Prime time here we come." He kissed Dustin's cheek, voice becoming serious. "I'd... I'd like to say it's great to see you but, under the circumstances. . . Did Marita teach you stuff?"

"That woman," grumbled Dustin, pleased that Alex seemed to be coming out of his panic attack. "She threw me over her shoulder, and kicked me in the nuts. Yeah, baby, I had a blast." He peeped at Alex from under his lashes, trying to ascertain his lover's state of mind. "I didn't sleep with her, if that's what you were asking. I didn't want her."

Alex snuggled against Dustin's side. He seemed more vulnerable than Dustin had ever seen him. "There was one thing though, Alex."

"Yeah?" Alex had a small smile on his face, imagining Marita slinging Dustin around like a sack of potatoes. "What would that be?"

Dustin's face turned bleak, his good humor completely evaporating in the space of a second or two. He tipped Alex's chin up so that they were eye to eye.

"Mackey. I'm not proud of what I did to Karl. He wanted it, and I did it, but it was the worst think I've ever done." He fell silent, waiting for Alex to sneer at him. Dustin had always known that he wasnt going to measure up.

"What, Dustin? No matter what you did, I guarantee you, it's no worse than I've done." He stroked Dustin's back, lightly. "What was it, love?"

"I fucked him. He begged me, and I did, and he made me mad enough to hit him while I was doing it. He came and thanked me, but I couldn't come. That upset him, but I couldn't. I'm sorry for letting you down." Dustin's voice rose and fell, musical and honeyed, but his words were anguished and his face was bleak. "I can't be you. I can only be me. I couldnt come for him."

Alex sighed. "I'm sure Mackey is okay with that. He - I - that is..." Biting his lip, he tried again. "He's part of my... I have to stop hurting him. He was with me when... How much about my background do you know, Dustin? Do you know what he --what we..." He paused, thinking about everything Dustin had said. "What do you mean, you let me down? You did the right thing."

He fell silent, running his hands over Dustin's chest. He didn't know how long the Smoker would let him be with his love and he wanted to memorize every plane and curve of his body, every shadow, every nuance, all the tones of his voice and every scent, every subtle smell. He pulled Dustin to him, crying silently.

Dustin tightened his arms around the other man. "Don't," he said. "Please don't cry. I don't want to be you, only to have you beside me forever, teaching me how to live and how to love you."

At that, Krycek lost it altogether. Pulling himself together enough to speak, he said, "Dustin, I want that too-- nothing more than that. But don't you see? Every time I find some shred of happiness in my life, he takes it away. And when he takes it away, he... Krycek's voice caught in his throat. "He corrupts it, turns it into something profane. Turns it against me." He pulled Dustin closer. "For your own good, I should push you away, so he can't hurt you. Thats what I was trying to do. But I'm weak and I need you. I love you more than anything." His sobs subsided. "Dustin... Dustin, I need you."

Somehow, that admission sounded right to Krycek, and he felt better for having said it.

Making soothing sounds, Dustin rocked his sobbing lover.

"Don't cry, Alex. I can't do without you either. Whatever you need, I'll do my best to give you. You and I will always find each other. I won't let it be otherwise." Dustin fell silent, his hands gently mapping the smooth skin, finding the weals and partly healed scabs. "Sleep now, love. We have to be rested or we'll never get out of here."

Krycek rested his head on Dustin's chest. "I can't sleep -- not when I know what he'll do to you tomorrow. Will you still love me then? I feel that I have one night with you before I lose you forever. You do know what he does to those who I love?"

"You won't lose me that easily, you know that. I would like to know one thing, though. How the hell did Karl Mackey get the way he is? What was done to him?"

Alex looked at Dustin, trying to gauge how much he wanted to know. Dustin wanted it all. Very well.

"Karl was also taken by the government as a young boy. He was in a different program, though. He became a straight spy -- his guise was that of an exchange student. He was captured in Russia, and brought to Tunguska. We became fast friends there and that was used against us. Even though he was older by a few years, he was more vulnerable. They brutalized him, and I was... I would protect him. When the Smoker called me back," he muttered with a derisive snort, "he got Mackey, too. He wanted to use him to train me." He trailed off, looking into Dustin's eyes. "He... he made me hurt my best friend."

Eyes glittering with guilty tears, Alex dared Dustin to ask him to go on, or revile him and kick him from the bed.

By now, Dustin understood what these pregnant pauses and sad looks signified. He stared into the brilliant eyes that peered so dolefully at him, and heaved a sigh.

"Listen. You keep judging me, and I'm not going to stand for it any more. Quit expecting me to walk out on you, and treat me like an equal, goddammit!" As he finished speaking, Dustin allowed his head to flop back onto the pillow. "Talk to me, Alex, please."

"Maybe I'm that way because everyone else judges me and walks out," Krycek muttered, lowering his eyelids. "I... Don't want to be hurt again.

After a beat, or two, he raised his eyes to Dustin's once more. "He told me to control Mackey. To... to make him do as I said, and take it. He brainwashed Mackey, I suppose, into wanting it. I can't think of any other reason why he'd let me treat him that way. He surely can't love me -- not really. Not of his own free will. I mean -- the things I've done. I'll... I'll never get over it. What I am."

Dustin was growing impatient. "Tell me why in the hell youre accepting guilt for stuff that you were programmed to do. I'm not clear on that at all."

"Because," Alex said darkly, "God help me, but I believe I was beginning to actually *enjoy* it. I *liked* his shame, his pleas for me to love him. They were like a drug, an amphetamine. You know? I mean-- I craved it. More and more." A possibility suddenly occurred to him. Maybe, unknowingly, he'd been programmed to feel that way. "I know what's going to happen, Dustin. This guilt -- it's time catching up to me. I... " He clung to Dustin, holding him tight. "I don't want anything to happen to my love for you. I don't want to lose you. I'm so afraid that the more I tell you -- even though you ask me to - I'm afraid, Dustin. I - I know you think I'm strong and brave. And I don't want to disillusion you, because then you wouldn't love me. And I couldn't bear that."

Dustin growled. "You're putting words into my mouth again, you you faint heart. You know what? If you spend tonight in fear, and then there is no tomorrow, you've lost it all. I learned that one the hard way." He dropped a kiss on Alex's tousled hair. "Don't throw tonight away. It's all we can count on."

"That's true." Krycek thought about it. He could lose Dustin tomorrow, and then what? He laid his head on Dustin's shoulder. "I want you to know that I'm no superhero. All I can give you is myself, and at the moment..." He stopped. He definitely was doing it again. "Maybe I should just shut up." He wasn't sure what Dustin wanted or needed to hear, so he looked at him in mute inquiry, hoping for a clue.

"What did you mean, you found out the hard way, Dustin? You ask me to bare my soul; I might as well ask you to bare yours. What did you mean by that?"

"Oh, God, Alex, you know that Minnow took over my life? It was my own fault. I let it happen and didn't have the backbone to challenge him. He took almost everything I had, and left me on the edge with nothing but resentment. You know, if I'd had a little less ego and a little more spirit, I'd never have been in that position. You've got so much more strength than I do. Don't sell yourself out the way that I did."

Alex disagreed and he said so. "But Minnow never got it all. He never got your fire, your soul. He never bent you to his will so far you forgot your own." Alex cupped Dustin's face, staring into his eyes. "He never told you a lie and called it the truth and made you believe." He kissed Dustin's cheek. "You always know the lies from the truth, and reality from bull. You see the truth. I... I can't do that. I see a truth, but not the truth." He knew he was babbling again, and to stop it, he pressed his lips to Dustin's, taking him in a soulful kiss. Feeling grounded, Alex pressed the length of his body against Dustin's, wrapping his arms around Dustin's torso and pulling him in as close as possible.

These kisses were more important to Dustin now than they had ever been. He lost himself in the press and slide of lips over flesh, and the sweet feel of his lover's fingers on his skin. This was all he wanted. He was afraid of what tomorrow would bring, but he would take what was offered tonight. This was the only truth that there was. He wanted no other.

When at last Alex released his mouth, Dustin grinned slyly at him. "Never told me a lie and called it the truth and made me believe it, huh?" He kissed Alex's eyes. "Minnow did just that to me. He made me believe that I'd killed Tara. Don't let the past get in the way, Alex. Now is all we have."

Alex sighed. "Yeah, yours did do that to you, too, didn't he?" He smiled against Dustin's neck, nipping at it. "We have much in common." Nuzzling closer, he mumbled, "Love you. There. That's truth." Alex almost purred as he licked Dustin's throat contentedly and snuggled in again. "It's just -- all I want is here, now. You're right. Let's enjoy the moment. Now, how best to *do* that...?"

For each man, to fall asleep in his lover's arms was perfect. Dustin didn't dream; he slept a peaceful, blissful sleep, Alex's body warm against him. Toward morning, there was a faint hissing that made Alex moan drowsily in protest, and the two men's slumber became more profound. They weren't aware of the men who came to carry them out of the room, and they didn't wake when Marita's voice rang throughout the house, demanding their release.

When at last Dustin opened his eyes, it was as if hed entered a new and terrifying world. He was lying face down on a leather-padded bench, wrists and ankles manacled. What was worse, Alex was nowhere in sight.

Alex awoke, held fast to a wall by chains at his wrist and ankles. He found himself in an enclosure looking into a room through one-way glass. In the room he saw Dustin strapped prone on a bench. He howled, as he futilely pulled against the manacles. "No. No! Not Dustin!" he yelled. "Take me, kill me, do anything to me, but please, oh please, oh please not Dustin."

He shrieked in fury Spender walked in, ran a hand appraisingly over Dustin's body, all the while somehow looking straight at Alex.

Krycek couldn't look away. It was like driving past the scene of a car wreck, or seeing a cat about to be hit by a speeding vehicle. He had to look. The scene held his eyes.

He howled again as Spender touched his beloved's face, then ran his hands along his back.

Dustin could hear the cries, faint but easily recognizable. "Where's Alex? What are you doing to him? Youre hurting him; I can hear him. Why don't you let him go?"

The old man merely continued to touch Dustin, probing and testing as he leered at Alex.

At last the Smoker knelt in front of Dustin, stroking his hair softly. "I'm not hurting Alex. He can see us, in this room, and he realizes that hes hurting you. If Alex had agreed to do his job, I wouldn't have to do this. I'm sorry, Dustin." Despite the pretty sentiment, the Smokers smile betrayed his sadistic enjoyment of the situation as he ran a hand along Dustin's flank.

A man as beautiful as Alex -- unspoiled and fiery, relatively unmanipulated as yet. He licked his lips and grew hard at the thought of taking this man.

Walking behind Dustin, he caressed the firm ass and reached down to fondle his balls. He felt between Dustin's legs and began to stroke his cock, as he leaned over the captives back, biting his shoulder.

In his "room, Krycek was frantic, banging on the glass, swearing in Russian, and crying. Blood ran from his wrist from his efforts to jerk free of the shackles. "No. Not Dustin. Please, not Dustin."

Dustin knew that this was going to be unpleasant, but he was resigned to it happening. He'd known ever since hed failed to shoot the old man that he would end up playing this scene. He ignored the Smoker. "It's okay, lover. He won't kill me, and I can stand this. Don't fret; don't even watch. It's not worth it."

His words were brought to an abrupt halt as the Smoker slapped him hard, making his ears ring and raising a huge, hand-shaped welt on his face.

Alex flung himself against the shackles at his lover's words. It wasn't okay. Dustin was too good for the Smoker. Not watch? How could he not watch? He felt rage wash over him as he saw the old man touch Dustin's ass. "I'm going to kill you!" he yelled. "I'll kill you!"

Spender laughed at Krycek, running his hand to Dustin's back, tweaking a muscle there, and returning to his balls. He knelt down, and began to lick Dustin's asshole, and then his balls, sucking them into his mouth and swirling his tongue around, before going back to Dustin's rosebud. He unzipped as he stood, taking out his cock, placing it at Dustin's entrance. Grinning cruelly at Alex, he shoved into Dustin to the hilt, leaning over his back and holding his hips for leverage. Dustin ground his teeth together. He could stand this, if only his lover would stay safe.

The response from Krycek was another kick at the glass, which his legs could barely reach. "You bastard! Dustin! No!" Krycek writhed and jerked, trying to free himself. As blood ran down his hand he remembered a Stephen King novel in which a handcuffed woman freed herself by slicking her wrists with her own blood, but these cuffs seemed too well built for that. Yet he had to try. Hitting his wrist against the metal, Alex endeavored to get more blood on the cuff.

The door to his room opened and Alex found himself confronted by a large, muscular gentleman dressed in leather, with a greasy ponytail hanging down between his shoulder blades. As Alex struggled and fought for freedom, the huge man sniggered and ambled forward to take hold of Alex by the balls, applying just enough pressure to hurt.

"You keep your eyes on the master. He's doing this 'specially for you. He doesnt want it wasted, does he?" The thug leered at Alex, exhaling fetid breath into his face as he spoke. "The master says that you gotta watch." He squeezed Alex's balls hard, and Alex criedouldn't help but cry out as the blazing agony took him. "If you don't watch, the pretty boy with the two strong arms will die. We don't want that, now, do we?"

Hissing, Alex glared at the leather boy. "Of course not." His eyes became flinty, and he directed his attention straight ahead, schooling his face into an expressionless mask. He would appear to watch, but think of other things - like how he planned to kill the Smoker for raping his love, his little cub, his all.

He clenched and unclenched his fist. Maybe he could bleed out, here, now-- no. Dustin would need him after this. Hed need to be there for him. He snarled. "What if I take Dustin's place?" he said. "Hey, even better. You let me go, I'll do you right here. However you want it, Pyotor. Blowjob, assfuck. You want me to blow you? You know you do. Im better than anyone. Ill do you just right. I let you have me, you let me go." He nodded at Dustin. "I love him, you know?"

"Well ain't that sweet," said Pyotor. "Funny thing is, you don't have a choice, do you?" He moved behind the frame to which Alex was lashed, and seconds later Alex felt rough hands pulling his ass cheeks apart, and then wet fingers insinuating themselves into him. He closed his eyes and swore to himself that he would find a way to pay back each and every one of the people in this house for the agonies he was going through. In the other room, he could see Dustin writhing as the Smoker took his pleasure in him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt Pyotor's dick battering its way inside him.

Krycek swore, cursing himself. Well, that was just brilliant. He began trying to cut into his wrist again, looking away from the action in the next room until he remembered Pyotor's threats against Dustin if he didn't watch. He relaxed against Pyotor - he'd been raped before. Besides,, what could he do? - But Dustin. Hang on, lover. Hang on.

The Smoker thrust fiercely into Dustin. It wouldn't be long before he came. Dustin's ass felt so good on his cock as he slid in and out. He knew only Alex had ever fucked Dustin before, and this took his passion to new heights. Grunting, he came inside Dustin forcefully, but pulled out, so he could dribble his seed on Dustin's back and ass for all to see. Especially Krycek.

Cradling him in his arms, the Smoker crooned, "Oh, Dustin. Alex calls me his Daddy. Would you like me to be your Daddy, too?" Dustin craned his head to look at him as he continued. "Your Alex is quiet because Pyotor's in there with him now. I think you may have met Pyotor. After he's done with Alex, he'll want a turn with you, I think. Until then, we must give Alex something to think about." He picked up a cattle prod and touched it to Dustin's back.

Dustin had hung on grimly during the sexual assault, but the shock delivered by the device was fierce and not to be denied. Dustin gave a choking cry as all his muscles locked up solid and his body thrummed with agony. It felt as though he was on fire, and he couldn't prevent the scream that came forth, full throated. When finally he could speak again, he found himself begging to be freed, knowing that he wouldnt.

Spender stroked Dustin's back. "Sweet, sweet boy. Do you hate him now? If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here. Go on, tell him you hate him for getting you mixed up in this. Tell him you want nothing more to do with him." Seeing hesitation, Spender brandished the cattle prod meaningfully, threatening to apply it to Dustin's nipples.

Closing his eyes against the pain that he knew would come, Dustin waited. When the shock didn't immediately shock him, and after a while he relaxed just enough to speak in short, breathy gasps. "I could tell you anything to stop the pain, but you know as well as I do that a confession extorted under duress is worth nothing. Let Alex go. He's suffered enough."

"Has he?" The Smoker applied the prod to Dustin's left nipple. "And just how do you know that, hmm?"

Krycek bucked, trying to loose Pyotor. The man was really thrusting into him, and he wanted him off, now. Krycek hurt -- his wrist because it was cut, his arm because it was held at a right angle to his chest, his ass from being fucked by Mr. Rambo dick, emphasis on the ram.

He cried out, a low, hollow moan, then raised his voice to scream at the Smoker. "Nooo. Please, I'll go to Cairo. Okay? I'll go. I swear I'll go. I'll get Habibi. Please, no more. Dont hurt him any more."

The monolithic jerk that was fucking Alex finally gasped out his completion. When Alex could no longer stand the tension, and was about to scream his lungs out just to avoid any further violation of either he or Dustin, the Smoker looked up and smiled.

"Alex, you don't know how happy I am to hear that. I'm so glad that you are willing to come home at last. We'll make plans for you to leave later today, but first, I want to show you something." He reached down to the floor beneath the bench that held Dustin stationary, and brought up a glass jar containing a black oily substance that seemed to move of its own accord.

"You remember what this is, don't you?" asked the old man, his face alight with unholy malice.

Alex gasped. "You know I do, old man."

"Good, good. What it does as well?" Spender's smile widened.

"Of course," Krycek spat. "I've had the pleasure."

"Not exactly, Alex." There was a knife-edge to Spender's smile. "This DNA prepares a human body to host a new grey. You've heard of this procedure, Im sure."

"I've seen the results, yes." Come on, you bastard, he thought. Get to the point.

"I anticipate that you would be distressed if Dustin here," as he spoke Dustin's name, the Smoker applied the prod to his back, making him arch and scream. "Became the incubator to a grey."

"No, Krycek snarled, scowling. You wouldn't. He's far too valuable to you as he is, you bastard." Alex knew that the Smoker wouldnt be able to hold Dustin over his head once a grey had him. The man didnt give his cards away.

"Oh, but I most certainly would, Alex, if you were to renege on our Habibi deal. I'll keep Dustin here so I can be assured that your conduct will be appropriate to my star operative. If you run, I will have no compunction about infecting your sweetheart." Voice turning venomous, the Smoker concluded, "Let him loose, Pyotor. Hell want to come and offer succor to our trainee here."

After Pyotor unceremoniously released his bonds, holding Alex to his side lest he fall to the ground. He was a little lightheaded, and that threw off his balance, causing him to stumble. Pyotor held him up and brought him to Dustin and Spender. Alex slumped against Dustin's side. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

Dustin leaned to rest his head against Alex's shoulder, and addressed the Smoker, contempt in his voice.

"You've got what you wanted from him. Do you think that he could get a little medical help now? Get these off me, and I'll do it." His anger flashed from his eyes. Turning to Alex, he kissed his face, and waited. He wanted so badly to hold Alex, comfort him, but bound as he was, he couldn't move.

Alex nuzzled Dustin, but he'd lost more blood than he realized, expended too much energy. "Oh, Dustin." he moaned, as consciousness left him. He sank to the floor in slow motion, and the last thing he saw was Pyotor's leering.

But Pyotors slap didn't wake him.

*flash*

"Rock a bye baby..."

Alexs mother was rocking him gently, cradling him in her loving arms.

"On the treetop..."

His mother was holding him, standing on a rocky ledge. Below, was the Smoker.

"When the wind blows, the cradle will fall..."

A breeze whipped up, and his mother struggled to keep her balance. She held him, but his weight increased her peril.

"Down will come baby, cradle, and all..."

Strong arms caught him when he fell, and he struggled, a strangled cry escaping his throat. "No." He smelled cigarette smoke, and heard his mother sobbing.

The smell of smoke became that of leather, and when Krycek opened his eyes, his head resting on his own knee and Pyotor was still leering at him.

The Smokers voice sounded, "I have several doctors on staff here." He smiled cruelly. "They'll be looking after Alex with ever loving care."

Alex could only see a shape, but he knew it was Dustin. They had hurt his love. Trying to stand, to lash out, Alex found that he couldn't even sit upright. His head throbbed as Pyotor jerked him back. "Wait for a stretcher, boy. We'll fix you up. You shouldn't have cut yourself..."

The Smoker smiled thinly at Dustin, before his eyes tracked to Krycek. "Tsk tsk, Alex. What will El Habibi say?" He smiled at Dustin again. "He's such a willful boy."

Slowly, the old man released Dustin's bonds, permitting him access to Alex. Pyotor showed signs of belligerence, but at a word from the Smoker, he gave ground, and Dustin took Alex in his arms, rocking him gently just like mom in the dream as he kissed his face.

"So where are all these fucking doctors? Bring 'em on!" Dustin yelled, angrier now than at any time he could remember. Turning back to his Alex, he held him close, and spoke softly to him. "It's okay, love. I have you now. It's over. It was only sex, and it's over. Don't worry about it."

How could he not worry about it? To hear Dustin speak words of love only drove home the guilt. Alex reached up with a blood-streaked hand to touch Dustins face. "He - he took you. He raped you. And you... you --." He broke off, as a sob of understanding shook him.

Dustin loved him. He'd taken the abuse, because he loved him. He wasn't worth it. He didn't deserve it. Yet it felt so good to be loved like that.

Alex stroked Dustin's cheek. I never wanted this for you, he thought, regretfully.

The Smoker lit a cigarette and pressed a call button. A couple of moments later two nurses arrived with a stretcher for Alex.

Alex didn't want to leave Dustin, but could find no strength to resist, Taking Dustin's hand in his own, he murmured, "I love you, Dustin. Don't leave me."

Scrambling to his feet, Dustin padded along beside the stretcher. He was still naked, sore in every muscle and tissue but disdained the fact as he clung to Alex's hand.

"You're okay, lover. Everything will be okay. Don't worry about me. I'm strong enough to take it. You just be strong with me."

Several days had passed, and Alex was no longer looking pinched and drawn. Dustin hadn't left his side since the incident with the Smoker; the two of them had spent every waking moment in anxious adoration, each of the other, in case something went fatally wrong on Alexs mission.

The Smoker summoned Alex in the evening of the third day, and when Alex arrived at the office shadowed by his lover, Dustin was refused entry by Pyotor. Rather than risk distressing Alex, Dustin took a seat outside the door as Alex met with Spender.

"Alex, I trust that you're feeling better? It's past time that you fulfilled your part in the bargain we made, my boy."

Alex swallowed. He knew it was inevitable, this moment. "Yes," he said weakly, resigned to his fate. Glancing at the door, he thought of Dustin -- the boy with the golden skin.

" I go to Cairo and meet Habibi. What is it exactly that you want from him?"

He shivered as he remembered Habibi's past abuse. God, let this be quick.

"Mr. El Habibi has been conducting some very interesting research into genetic markers, my boy. Currently he is rather reluctant to share his research, and has stipulated that he requires a bribe. You must have made quite an impression on him the last time you met, because the bribe hes demanding is you. I want you to bring him in - or deliver his research to me - I'm not worried which." The Smoker smiled at Alex, walking around the desk to fondle his hair. "Don't let me down, my boy. Dustin is depending on you."

Alex's stomach tightened at the Smokers words. "A bribe?" His mind raced. "If you give me to him, as a bribe, I may not come back." Alex wondered if he could steal the research, and do it quickly. Trying to recall the setup, he mused, "I could use Marita to get the research. John works in encryption and codes. Ill need that expertise, too."

The Smoker pondered for a few minutes, and then nodded.

"Ms. Covarrubias is going to be in the Middle East on an errand of her own for a week or so. I see no reason why she can't liaise with you while there. I do advise that you come back to me in the end, Alex. After all, what will happen to your Dustin, if you leave him alone with me?" He laid his hand on Alex's shoulder. "It doesn't bear thinking about, does it?" Smiling down on Alex, he added, "You have one hour. Use it wisely."

Alex stood, walking out of the office, his head spinning. An hour! An hour was a minute when all he could think of was Habibi. Then he remembered what Dustin had instructed -- live for the moment.

Dustin sat in the same chair, face strained.

Alex halted beside him. "Hey now you're not going to miss me too much, are you? I'm not gone yet, and I promise, I'll be a week or two at most."

"I want to go with you." Dustin sensed Alexs distress but was unwilling to pump him for information right then. "When do we go?" He stood, took Alex's prosthetic hand, and led him outside onto the grounds.

Alex stopped, pulling Dustin to him. For once, he was glad that he wasn't the one to say 'no'. Not that he would take Dustin if he could, despite how desperately he never wanted to leave this man's side. Alex would never subject Dustin to El Habibi. The thought of that man laying eyes or hands on Dustin was grotesquely obscene. "Not my decision, my love," he whispered. "But, no, you can't." Kissing Dustin, Alex silenced the protest he knew would come.

"I leave in an hour." His voice was soft, yet firm.

Dustin glanced sideways at Alex. No use then to repine. He would stay behind, and Alex would go. It hurt, but he had expected it. He would just have to make the best of what little time he had. A gleam of mischief appearing as he suddenly towed the other man off the path and into a thick growth of trees that lined the route.

"What the hell?" Further speech muffled by the application of warm, soft lips. For a minute Alex resisted, surprised, but then he pressed himself against Dustin, leaning back against a cherry tree as he permitted his lover to explore his mouth.

"Shhh! I'm gonna make love to you, and you're gonna come for me, and it's okay. He can't see us and you'll take it with you." Dustin kissed him again, his hands stroking all over Alex.

Alex responded fully, twining his tongue around his lover's, holding him close. "You're gonna." He ran his hands up Dustin's shirt. "Make me come? Make love to me?" He bit Dustin's ear. "I'll take it with me?" He bit his neck, grinning, and pulled Dustin closer. "Tell me about it, my love."

Dustin didn't speak, he just pulled away from his assault on Alex's mouth and dropped, smiling, to his knees, and fumbled open the fly of Alex's jeans, permitting his cock to spring loose. Something in Alex's face made him stop, and he watched dejectedly as Alex covered himself once more.

"What? Alex? You don't want me?" Slowly, he sank back onto his heels and half-knelt, half-sat, dejected. "Well, okay then. Go on alone if you've got to. No doubt you've got some really good reason, and what I need wont change anything."

"Dustin, what are you talking about?" Taking Dustin's shoulder in his hand, Alex assured, "I want you, Dustin. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything." He dropped to the ground, and held Dustin close. "But what I want and what I need are two different things right now. God, I need you!" He kissed Dustin's neck. "Don't think I don't want you. But I need to know you're taking this seriously. I... you're acting like a little boy, but we can't be little boys now." He kissed Dustin desperately. He'd promised Dustin two weeks, but who knew.

"But " Dustin leaned back and studied Alex's face. He could see that Alex was agitated, and suddenly he felt cold. This was real. This was happening and there was no way he could stop it. He hung his head, and leaned into Alex's embrace. "Okay, love. Tell me. Why I should be afraid."

Glancing around to make sure they were really alone, he pulled Dustin to him, nibbling his ear as he whispered fiercely. "El Habibi, the man I'm to bring back - he'll want to keep me as his pet. Apparently, the Smoker gave him leave to do so. Thank God Marita's going to be in the area; she can maybe help me. But... it may be more difficult than I thought. In some ways, El Habibi is worse than Sergei. I'm so nervous, little cub!" He kissed Dustin, trailing his lips along his neck, over to the other ear. "And beyond that, I gotta leave you here. I'll call you all I can. Marita, too."

Still drooping, Dustin clung tightly to his lover. "Can't I come with you? I could help and take care of you. Id stop this bastard if he tried to keep you." He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of Alex's body, trying to imprint it into his memory against the moment when Alex would leave him here alone. "Please take me with you," he pleaded. "That guy in the club, you remember? He said that we were a perfect matched pair. This Habibi guy would love us."

Alex hissed. "That man in the club was Pyotor, the man with the ponytail. I should have killed him when I had the chance." He stroked Dustin's face. "Habibi would love you, and thats why I wont take you to him. Besides, the Smoker won't let you go, because it'll hurry me along. I can tell you, Marita has a very good source for black krait venom." He smiled a cruel smile. "Very fitting for Habibi."

"Fuck it! I knew it." Dustin was visibly miserable, his nose pink and his eyes bright as Alex held his face, preventing him from looking away. "I need to be with you. I can't tell you" It was too much. He closed his eyes against the pain that burned in them. He couldn't move, but he could stop the world from looking into his eyes and seeing that pain.

Alex pulled Dustin close again and held him. "I know. You dont have to explain; I feel the same." Alex licked at Dustin's neck. A man walked toward them, and Alex scowled. "Can't a guy spend a little time alone with his lover before he leaves?" The man snickered but kept going.

Alex stood up, dragging Dustin after him. "Deeper into the trees. Need you."

He followed Alex, not caring where he was being led. Everything had piled in on him and all Dustin could think of was how much he loved Alex. He missed him so much already that he was no longer able to think straight. Stumbling in Alex's wake, he felt unwanted tears coursing down his cheeks, and knew that Alex would see, and that he would think him stupid and weak.

"Alex, I " His voice broke, and as they came to a halt, Dustin sank down to his knees once more, his face hidden in his hands.

Alex put an arm around Dustin, holding him gently, kissing his cheek lightly. Was that salt? He licked at another tear. "Dustin... you ... Oh, my sweet baby." Holding Dustin tighter, laying his head on Dustin's shoulder, Alex decided it would be best to be quiet, and let his love speak when he was ready.

Dustin could only cling tightly to Alex, trying to compose himself enough so that he could send Alex off unworried. Each time he felt the tears starting to recede, the feel of Alex wrapped around him made him start to sob anew. Finally, he spoke. "I wanted to stay strong for you. I wanted to be brave. I didn't want you to see" Heart pounding, Dustin took a gulping breath before he continued, "Love me, please. Make me feel safe again.

Alex looked at Dustin, need for love in his eyes as well. "That's kinda funny, 'cause I feel the same way about you." Pulling Dustin in with his prosthetic arm, he caressed his back with the other. "Dustin... oh, sweet Dustin. I wish we could just stay here forever." But they couldn't. The image of the oilien floated foremost in his brain. Alex was thankful that Dustin didn't understand the implications.

Dustin didn't know how much longer they had. He only knew that his lover was going to leave him behind. He moaned, raising his hands to run them through Alex's hair, attempting to imprint the feel of his lover's head. His lips brushed Alex's face, mapping the high cheekbones, tracing the thick lashes and the slight indent at the top of his nose that creased whenever he was stressed.

"Don't let me go, Alex. I need you to hold me."

Alex hugged Dustin fiercely. "Baby... baby." He knew he had to leave him with the Smoker, of all people! Fuck. He was damned either way. He pulled Dustin's face to his, kissing him softly.

*Flash* Two teenage boys, on a riverbank in Tunguska, one offering the other a drink.

Swaying, Alex fought against the visions.

*Flash* "You have betrayed your best friend. Your lover."

What was happening? He clung to Dustin, to reality. Alex's lips trembled, and he clutched at Dustin.

"Hold you? I don't know if I'll ever be able to let you go." Dustin had been gazing into Alex's eyes, trying somehow to see beneath the stern control that Alex was projecting. A moment of strangeness had shadowed the beautiful green eyes, and Dustin wondered what that might signify, but as it passed, he noted the love that shone from Alex's face, and his own eyes closed as he kissed Alex's lips before burying his face into Alex's neck.

"Promise me that well be together again soon. Promise me, please." Dustin spoke softly, but the longing was so strong that his body shook with it.

Alex couldn't speak until he took a ragged breath. "I promise you. We'll be together soon. We will." He hugged Dustin so hard he thought he might break him. "My love, my sweet love." He buried his face in Dustin's hair, licking, memorizing the taste and texture of his lover. He ran his hand over Dustins back, sighing. A tear rolled down his cheek as he contemplated the fact that he didn't know whether or not he could keep his promise. But he couldn't take it back. "Love you so much."

Holding onto Alex until his arms felt leaden with fatigue, Dustin couldn't think of anything to say that hadn't been said, and went back to mapping the body of his lover. His hands traveled the length of Alex's spine to cup the curve of his buttocks, and his mouth roved over the graceful arch of Alex's throat. He wanted to be able to hug the memory when he was alone. Softly, he whispered his love in return, and then, "If you don't come back to me, I'll die."

"Don't say that, Dustin! If you say that, I might not be able to go, and the Smoker will kill you for sure." His voice choked in his throat. "Don't ever say that, baby."

*Flash* A ten year old boy on a table in Tunguska; Sergei setting some of the black oil on his body. A low howl from both the boy on the table and an older boy, in the corner, held to watch by a leering man -- a man with a cigarette.

No!

"I... I'll come back to you," Alex vowed again. One way or another. "Just don't you die before I do, baby." He took out the knife the Smoker had returned to him. It was the one he'd used on Pyotor at the club.

"Take this. May it keep you safe while I'm gone, my love."

Dustin held the knife in his hand, and studied it, recalling the times when he'd seen Alex with it. It was a long, slender bladed knife, with the balance well down the handle. The edge was keen, the point wicked. He suddenly smiled at Alex, stabbing the point into the palm of his left hand, holding it up to Alex as the blood dripped from the wound.

In a fluid motion, Alex wordlessly took the knife back, and sliced open his right palm. He reached out for Dustin's left hand, and raised their clasped hands to his lips. "I love you... blood brother, blood lover. My soul." He looked into Dustin's eyes. "Don't let them break you, Dustin. Don't let them take you." Trying to anticipate the Smokers strategies, Alex murmured, "Whatever he says, I would never give you over to him, or the Consortium."

Dropping his mouth to their mingled blood, Dustin pressed his lips to the physical manifestation of their declaration of love, stuck out a pink tongue to lap, and then, lips red, offered them to Alex, willing him to accept the kiss.

Alex took Dustin's face in his hand, tasting the bitter, thick salty blood on his lips, lapping greedily at the lips that were offered. Taking Dustin's hand, he licked that, too before leaning in for another kiss. He offered Dustin more of their blood, delving into his mouth as if to place a drop on every tooth. Alex never wanted the kiss to end.

When they finally broke apart, panting slightly, Dustin saw Alexs shining eyes, over bright and loving. All he'd ever wanted was his, here in his arms, but for only this moment. In less than hour, he would be gone, perhaps forever. He held onto Alex, and tried to express what he was feeling.

"Alex? Love me. Love me as though Im someone you care for, and not just someone that you can dominate. Make me feel special, Alex, please."

"I... I care for you so much, Dustin." Alex looked at him. "You are special. I've never loved anyone like I love you. Never. With you --when I dominate you -- I feel guilty after sometimes. Never with anyone else." He bit his lip. "Why dont you show me, Dustin? Help me love you like you want. I... I'll try, but... Ive loved you the only way I know, he thought, sadly.

He reached for Dustin, to kiss him again. " I dont know..." he murmured.

The mouth that melded itself to his made Dustin's heart race. His hands worked to open Alex's shirt so that he could slide his hands over smooth skin. He pulled Alex to him, feeling the strength of his body pressed against him.

"You're doing fine, my love. Better than fine. Anything that you want is fine with me, if you touch me tenderly. Make me believe that I'm precious, and that I'm worthy of you."

Alex smoothed Dustin's shirt, then lifted it over and off his body. He leaned in to lick gently at Dustin's nipples, suckling first one, then the other. They were slick and sweet in his mouth. Rolling his tongue around them, he took time to feel every bump and dip. He licked his way up the broad chest, to Dustins neck, and then back down. Tenderly, he encouraged Dustin to lay on the ground, straddling him in a 69 position as he licked Dustin's taut, firm abs. He nipped, just gently, and kneaded Dustin's strong thighs through his jeans.

Reaching up to knead Alex's buttocks, Dustins lips found the small indentation that was Alex's navel, and pressed his tongue in as he strove to taste, to tease, and to love. Hearing a small gasp, he trailed his tongue lower, his cheek finding the swell of Alex's sudden interest within the soft and faded denim of his jeans. Hands stroking around to unfasten Alex's jeans, Dustin ran his fingers along Alexs inner thighs.

Alex groaned as Dustin undid his jeans, and returned the favor. Dustins tongue was soft silk on Alex's body, and he moaned pleasurably as Dustin licked him and tormented the flesh of his thighs. Alex moved his hand under the waistband of Dustin's boxers and caressed the soft thatch of hair there. He put his nose to it, sniffing the musky odor. After satisfying his nose, Alex mouthed Dustins cock through the boxers, then moved to his lovers navel, sucking and nipping little love bites across his belly.

"Come on, love of mine." Dustin pushed the jeans that were impeding his access to the flesh of his lover until they slipped over Alex's thighs, revealing the white briefs that he wore. Pulling down on Alex's hips so that he could reach the swelling that denoted Alex's erection, he began to suck at it through the soft cotton interlock that covered it. "Yeah, let me be loved by you. Alex, nobody but you.

Alex sighed. "Yeah? Ooh, Dustin!" His cock twitched under Dustin's ministrations, and he mouthed Dustin more firmly after kissing a trail down from his navel. Tugging the boxers down, he took Dustin's cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the crown. His precome tasted so damn good; he'd never get enough. Holding himself back from going for Dustin's sweet rosebud, he contented himself to suck and lick at Dustin's root, smiling against the warm musky skin.

Waves of bitter-sweet desire washed over Dustin. Alex was here, touching him the way that he craved, and yet he feared somehow that it was the last time they would see each other. He'd saturated the cotton briefs his lover wore with saliva, and now he attempted to reach beneath them, pulling and tearing until Alex's cock sprang free for him.

He paused, holding Alex's hips still for a second or two before opening his mouth to swallow his lover as deeply as he could, feeling the jolt to his own groin as Alex reciprocated.

Alex took Dustin deep. He wanted this to be special -- something Dustin wouldn't forget. Cupping Dustin's balls, he fondled them as he moved his left hand over Dustin's thighs. Dustin's mouth on his cock felt incredible, and he hummed his pleasure to tell him so.

Was this the last time they would have together? It felt that way, and yet he *knew* he'd never leave Dustin behind again. Just let him finish this job, and then... Yeah, right. As *if* Spender would ever release him. Dustin was nave, but in a way that Alex longed to be.

He sucked at Dustin as though he might swallow a bit of purity, or naivete, from him and regain it. "Love you... God!" he murmured as he came up for air before falling onto Dustin's cock again.

"Never forget me; never let me go." Dustin's husky voice stroked over Alex's ears just prior to a redoubling of his efforts, sucking at Alex. Pausing to track his tongue over the delicious morsel, Dustin lapped at the sensitive underside of the mushroom-like head, and drove it as deep as he could into the slit on the top.

He wanted to taste all of Alex. Toward that end, Dustin nipped the white columns of his thighs, swirled his tongue around the rapidly crinkling balls, and, at last, sucked his penis in once more until the head was striking against the back of his throat. He swallowed grimly, and prayed that he would be able to do this, and not gag.

Alex gasped as Dustin deep throated him, warm and hot on his cock. As sensation shot through him, he dragged his tongue over Dustin's cock and balls, and nipped at Dustin's thigh. This felt good, but he wanted... Rolling over, Alex pulled out of Dustin's mouth. He scooted around, and wrapped his arms around Dustins shoulders. "Dustin, will you hold me? You made me feel really good, but... is it okay if we just. cuddle a while?"

Dustin was stunned. When he felt Alex's arms go around him, he turned to seek out Alex's mouth. How had Alex known? Clinging to him, feeling almost childlike in his desperate need for reassurance, he clutched Alex, trying to plaster every part of himself against the man in his arms.

Alex crushed Dustin to him. "Oh, Dustin, my love. It kills me to have to leave you." He buried his face in Dustin's neck again. When he fell asleep at night, half a world away, this was what he would think of, and feel - his little cub, holding him tight. But what about Dustin? Who would keep him safe? "My sweet one, keep the knife with you... always."

Dustin felt his eyes prickle. Nodding, he held the firm buttocks tight, bucking against his soon to be departed love. As he moved, the sweet tendrils of lust curled in his groin, and he ran his lips over Alex's chin, feeling the rasp of whisker as he licked and sucked on the long, elegant throat.

"I will. I promise. When you come back, I'll give it to you."

"All right, my love." Alex arched into Dustin. "I wish I could stay with you. But since I can't, hang onto it." The knife had been given to him by a -- by someone close to him, and hed carried it ever since. "It will keep you safe. Oh, love, sweet love..."

Dustin writhed against Alex's bare midriff, making little, breathy panting noises as he came against the slippery skin of his lover. He gasped as a wave of pleasure swept over him, and felt himself melt as his balls contracted, spilling their juice across Alex's skin. Shaking his head from side to side, he shuddered out his joy, and then lay panting against Alex.

Alex ran his hand down Dustin's side, appreciating the soft, satin, supple skin. After the shivers of his lover coming subsided, he slid his hand to Dustin's cock, taking up as much jism as he could, and bringing it to his lips, savoring the taste, and rubbed the remainder into Dustin's skin. "Oh, sweet." Suddenly he bucked, and came against Dustin's thigh, smiling at him as he leaned his head on his shoulder. "Love you. You taste so good."

They lay, wrapped up in each other, sharing kiss after kiss. Dustin couldn't think of anything to say to his lover that wouldn't make him feel bad, and the last thing he wanted. At last, Dustin sat, and took up the knife hed just been given. Reaching down to his groin, he severed a small tuft of his pubic hair, and held it out to Alex.

"Want this to remember me by?" He waited, wondering if Alex would take it or laugh at him.

Alex took the hairs reverently, rolling them between his fingertips, sniffing their musk. "Thank you, baby." He wondered where he was going to put them so he wouldnt lose them. Patting his jeans pockets, he found a piece of paper. He took it out and folded the hairs inside before placing it back into his pocket.

Checking the time, Dustin saw that there were only seven minutes remaining of their precious hour.

"I love you, Alex." He struggled to his feet and began to pull up his jeans. "It's nearly time. Should we get back?"

Alex nodded, getting to his feet after doing up his jeans. "Yeah, I should get my things together." He took Dustin's hand, helping him up and kissing him deeply before pulling him after him, toward the room they'd been sharing. When they arrived, the Smoker was there, sitting on the bed, glancing pointedly at his watch.

Saying nothing at all to the intruder, Dustin reached for Alex's few items of clothing, and began to pile them onto the bed. As the Smoker sat, smiling his superior smile, Dustin helped Alex gather his possessions. The small pile on the coverlet didn't amount to much, and noting that they had a couple of minutes to spare, Dustin took Alex's hands, standing toe-to-toe to share one last kiss.

"I hope that you're about ready, Alex. I would hate to be forced to administer correction to either you or your lover." The dry voice of the Smoker broke in, crackling like fallen leaves as he brought them back down to earth.

Alex glared at the Smoker, holding Dustin close.

"Two minutes, old man." He kissed Dustin as if he might be trying to meld his soul, his self, to the other man's. "Dustin... oh God. Remember all I told you, lover." Turning Dustin towards the Smoker, he said, "Don't you dare hurt him while I'm gone. He's innocent.. You think you can kill everything good -- I know that's why you hate this. We love each other, and you can't have that. So you tried to kill it, and you couldn't do that, either. Love is the one thing you cant kill."

The Cancerman didn't lose his smile. He nodded gently.

"Of course it is, my boy. That's what makes you so delightfully controllable at the moment. I'll take good care of your boyfriend while you're away. I assure you that he will lack for nothing. Come. The plane is waiting to whisk you away to the Arabian Nights." He indicated a holdall that had lain, hitherto unnoticed. As Alex and Dustin scooped Alex's clothing and effects into it, he swept out of the room and held the door for Alex to follow.

As Dustin fell in behind, Pyotor, who had been lounging behind the door, put out a hand to bar his progress, grunting," Not you."

Alex hissed an order at Pyotor. "Don't touch him." He looked back at Dustin, once, calling, "I love you!" before he turned the corner with the Smoker.

Dustin stopped, and stood watching Alex until he was out of sight.

After they left, Pyotor smiled, putting his arms around Dustin from behind. "Come here, sweetie. I never got to have you before. The Smoker promised me I could." He ran a hand down Dustin's back. "I got things I gotta do, pretty boy. But I'll be back." He pulled Dustin around to face him. "Or do I? I've been with your boyfriend these past few days. Did he tell you how I made him scream the first time I took him? Such an exciting sound, Alex Krycek begging for mercy. Your scream will be louder, sweet cheeks. He was your first, wasn't he? I'll be your last."

Dustin breathed deeply. So it begins, he thought. I haven't had a minute to mourn his leaving, and already this bastard is tormenting me. He reached into his pocket to fondle the knife that Alex had given him.

"Get away from my room." Dustin put his feelings of fury into the words. Pyotor stood, looking at him, so Dustin clenched his fists, thinking through the exercises that Marita had taught him.

Pyotor smiled, bringing Dustin toward him with the arm hed draped across his shoulders. Leaning in, he kissed Dustin's mouth. "All right, baby. But I won't be far."

Coughing and spitting, Dustin wondered how he was going to cope with the huge, unpleasant man who'd stated his intention to rape him. He stroked his knife again, and wondered what Alex would do in his place.

Karl Mackey walked down the hall to Dustin's room. He knew he had to go to LA, the Smoker had ordered him back there, but he dreaded leaving Dustin here. Of course, he was proof that the Smoker didn't always torment his "guests" the whole time they were there, but Dustin was so like Alex. Karl didn't think that the Smoker held but didnt torture Alex in some way

Reaching Dustin's room, Karl stood there for a moment.

"Dustin, he's sending me back to LA. I - - I'm sorry. I asked him to let me stay, but he says I'm needed out there. As if I can concentrate now!" Impulsively, Mackey ran to Dustin, and held him, because he looked like his love, and his love - Dustin's love too, was far away, or would be, soon.

"Dustin, I wish I could stay -- bring him back." Mackey began to cry, his tears falling on Dustin's shirt. "I... Dustin." He pulled back. "Does the Smoker have your cell phone? If he does, get it back. I'll call you, and I know Alex will, too. God, I miss him."

"God, Karl. How did we get here? I never wanted to hurt anyone. I'm so sorry." Dustin held onto Karl's body, responding to the odd familiarity that Karl embodied. "I know you love him. I wish that everything could be different, better. You and I will be together again when he comes back, and this I promise you, the three of us will love each other, even if it's only once." He stroked Karl's whiskery face, and finally kissed him, gently and sweetly, before letting him go.

"Thank you. You have no idea how good that is to hear. I need him, need you, too. Need you both so badly." He stepped back, tearing inside, but slipping back into his professional self.

"I -- I'll put you right back on 'See No Evil' -- hold it for you, even if its the best chance we have with the network next season." He paused. "I'll put Minnow on 'Next Wave' instead. Hell develop that in your absence, but it will suffer without you."

"Karl" Dustin's husky voice was uncharacteristically soft. "I have to tell you about Minnow." He held Karl's shoulders as he spoke, willing Mackey to understand somehow without making him say it. Dustin searched Karls face for some time, hoping. Finally, he sighed, and shook his head. "Minnow's dead, Karl. Alex killed him."

"Alex killed... Why, Dustin?" He racked his brain. Minnow had no ties to the Consortium, or their plans. Did he? "Two of my star employees gone. Shit." Karl laughed nervously. "What am I gonna do?" Absurdly, he began to laugh, leaning on Dustin with each new bubble of laughter that burst forth from him, unstoppable. The harder he tried to stop laughing, the harder he laughed. "I'm sorry."

Dustin held him, bemused. This was the last reaction he'd imagined from Karl. He tried to think how Alex would handle this particular conversation, before speaking again.

"Alex killed him for me. Depend real hard on Jarred, ok?" He watched Mackey's face, waiting for some kind of cue as to how the message had been received.

Mackey got his laughter under control. "Jarred? Minnow's dead, and you want me to -- Jarred. What should I tell him about you? He'll ask." Chasing the thoughts that ran around in his brain, Mackey asked, "Why... why'd you guys kill Minnow?"

"Hey. Alex killed him. I hadn't met Alex at that point. How should I know why?" Dustin shrank inwardly as he waited for Karl to rail at him, to point his finger and tell him that he had murdered Minnow - in spirit, if not in fact. He knew that if everyone paid their dues, that the blame for Minnow's death would rest on his shoulders.

Mackey looked away. "You're lying, Dustin. About what, I don't know, but just because circumstances are different, everything hasnt changed." He sat beside Dustin. "You were going downhill, at work and also in your personal life. Jarred... Jarred had come to me a couple of times, saying he was worried about you, and then I saw Darcy out with Minnow. Dustin, what was that all about?"

Mackey had to ask these questions to reestablish a boss/subordinate relationship for Globe.

"I'm not lying, Karl. Alex killed Minnow. I wanted him dead, and Alex made it happen. If you really want to know all the whys and wherefores, I'll tell you, but honestly, there's no point." Dustin slumped. "God, I miss Alex already. Do you think I'll ever see him again?" He fell silent, his body language signaling complete desolation.

Mackey put an arm around Dustin's shoulders. "He's always come home." He kissed his cheek. "But I know what you're feeling. Felt it myself often enough." God, had he? But usually it wasn't like this -- usually it was a simple job. This one wasnt. "You'll see him again. I'm sure of it."

Dustin smiled at his boss, the first time he could ever recall a time when a smile for Karl had come spontaneously to him. "Thank you, Karl, " he whispered. "I know that you love him too, and I'm sorry, more sorry than I can say."

"Me, too, Dustin. And for you. I'm glad you two found each other." He swallowed hard, still feeling a twinge of jealousy, but it was obvious that they belonged together. "Should I tell Jarred and Suzanne and anyone else, that, um, you're visiting sick family, or something?" Mackey stood, moving toward the door, but still holding Dustin's hand gently as Dustin went to see him out. "I suppose, in a way, that's no fish story." Saying that brought Minnow to mind, and he had to stifle another paroxysm of laughter.

The connection wasnt lost on Dustin either. "Fuck you, Karl! You're just begging me to beat you, aren't you?" Dustin couldn't resist a mild snicker as he wondered how much truth was contained within that statement. "Tell Jarred that I'll see him soon, but that I have to stay here to er protect my investment." He laid a last kiss on Mackey's lips, and turned away, wishing for privacy before the tears started.

Mackey nodded, releasing his hand. "I... I hope to see you soon, Dustin." Barely containing his tears, he turned and left the room for his own, to pack. As he did, he realized he wouldn't feel right unless he talked to Dustin about one more thing, begged punishment for it. Then he could go back to LA. He'd hurt his love, and maybe contributed to his regression. It weighed heavily on him.

Stepping back into Dustin's room, Karl hung his head as he said, "Dustin, there's something... something I have to tell you."

Dustin had sunk down on the bed, his head in his hands. As Karl returned to stand before him, he raised sad eyes and waited. Why couldn't Karl see that he needed to be alone?

"Go on, Karl. Tell me."

"I... I hurt Alex, Dustin. I can't get over it. I know we said I had to act like I was going to hurt him, but I did and god help me, a part of me enjoyed it. It was like I was outside myself, and I wanted to throw up, but, oh god oh god. I... I fucked him, Dustin. While he thought he was a teenager and the Smoker had him tied down." Mackey sank to his knees before Dustin.

"I'm a bad man, Dustin. How could I do that to him? How can I ever face him again? Or... or you? I know you love him, but I thought he'd always be mine. He's not and that's why." He began to cry, great sobs wracking his body. "So sorry, Dustin. Hurt me, please?"

"I know what you did." Dustin's voice was bleak, and his eyes looked through Karl to images he wouldnt be able to forget. "He showed me the movie. He thought I ought to get a kick out of it." Focusing on Karl for a brief moment, Dustin asked, "Why do they hate him so much? I don't understand. You hate him too, don't you?"

"I love him!" Karl sobbed. "How could I hate him? He's sweet. He - they - he's... he never did anything. Don't let them tell you he did. His parents gave him to the Smoker when he was seven, and he used and hurt him. Thought he was pretty so he could tempt men to... Don't you see? They're killing him slowly. And he... never asked for any of it. The Smoker's a sick man, Dustin. He took a sweet boy and -- I love him so much. More than you know. When I met him... He broke down, crying heavily again, barely managing to say, "He needs someone who'll really love him. I thought it was me, but... it's you. Don't hurt him, please."

Dustin sat, shaking his head. The thought of his lover as a frightened child given over as a sexual plaything to thugs such as Pyotor made his blood run cold.

"He'll never have to suffer any of this-do any of it -- again," hissed Dustin. "When we get out of here, he's going to be free." His face suddenly full of anger, he demanded, "Help me, Karl. Help me rescue him. I can't do it on my own. I need your help. Swear to me that you'll help me - help him."

"I'll do all I can -- whatever I can," Karl promised, his hand on Dustin's knee. "We've got to help him. El Habibi... He sniffled and dropped what hed been about to say. "He was so frightened of that man. I've never seen him so frightened."

"We'll get him out," said Dustin, with a strength in his voice that he was very far from feeling . "Go home and keep the studio going, Karl. I'll be fine. Once he's home, we'll spring him. But, tell me this -- what is it about this Arab guy that makes Alex so afraid?"

Dustin turned away from Mackey, half praying that he would ignore his question and leave him be. If only he didn't need the information.

Karl stood. "Thank you, Dustin. So you don't hate me? I... I'm not sure about El Habibi; Alex wouldn't discuss it. There are a few things Alex won't talk about."

"Hate? I don't think I can hate anyone else until that smoking bastard is dead and buried. No, Karl, I don't hate you." He wheeled to face the man, anger setting his face ablaze. "I swear that he'll be free. I swear it."

Karl stepped back instinctively, though he knew Dustin's anger was mostly, at least, not directed at him. "I pray that you can. I... I'll be ... in touch."

The cigarette smoke seemed to have a will of its own, drifting and curling around Alex, no matter how much he tried to avoid it. It was a relief when the car drew up at the airport entrance, enabling him to escape the claustrophobic confines of the car. The Smoker followed him into the terminal, and together they went to the check in desk.

A knot of fear curled in his belly and Alex could no longer ignore it. "You know what El Habibi wants to do to me, don't you?"

"Why don't you tell me, Alex?" The foul old man sounded as though he were Alex's indulgent uncle. "We'll see if there's anything that we can do to assist you." He was urbane and smiling as he placed his arm solicitously around Alex's shoulders.

Alex shied away, throwing off the Smoker's arm. "You know what he wants. You know because he told you. I was there. How could you allow this?" His voice shifted to a higher pitch, and he stepped close again. "Aren't I still your good boy, Daddy?"

The Smoker paused and his good humor slipped briefly, leaving his eyes dead and snake-like.

"You must understand, Alex, my boy, that your marketable skills are rapidly reaching their sell-by date. You're getting old, my pretty slave, and once you are, what use will you be to me? If El Habibi likes you, maybe I should allow him to purchase you. After all, I have Dustin now." Having said that, he replaced his arm around Alex in a very pointed fashion.

"Dustin? No!" Alex's eyes were full of fury. "You wouldn't," he hissed. "He's... he's my age, pretty much. I know you're not famous for keeping promises, but please... please. I'll let Habibi take me. Just don't hurt Dustin. His only crime was loving me, and it's my fault he's where he is now. I never should have loved him, but I did." He jerked away from the Smoker. "You're a sick man. Have I ever told you that?" A lady in the check-in line looked at the Smoker, arching a brow as much at his lit cigarette as at the younger man's words and actions.

"Such disrespect to someone you hope will do you a favor. I think that you should study your behavior before you arrive in Cairo, Alex. If you are as insolent to El Habibi as you are to me, he'll very likely take extreme measures. I have heard that he cut the tongue out of one of his catamites, because the fellow said things that displeased him." The Smoker made a lewd gesture, and the check-in agent blinked, not quite sure if she'd heard correctly. "It would be such a pity for you to lose your tongue. It's one of your best features."

Krycek's eyes darkened. "You only wish, old man."

The Smoker frowned. "For that, Alex, I will permit Pyotor to visit Dustin tonight."

Alex looked at the Smoker. "You think Dustin will permit it? He's a strong boy." But he couldn't help his low moan as the Smoker's gaze darkened further.. "No, please, I'm sorry. Don't. He doesn't deserve it." Others were looking at them, but Alex didnt care. He embraced the Smoker, kissing his cheek. "Please, Daddy, don't."

Presenting their passports and tickets to the agent behind the desk, Spender paid no attention to Alex, merely reaching for their boarding cards admitting them to the first class lounge.

As they made their way toward the lounge, the Smoker hustled Alex into a restroom and turned to face him.

"Let's see how talented that tongue remains, Alex, if you wish to keep it."

Krycek dropped to his knees. "Yes, Daddy." He opened the Smoker's trousers, and withdrew his soft , wrinkly cock. Taking the disgusting, hairy, pink thing into his mouth, Alex began sucking, working it with his tongue. He put his hands on the Smoker's hips and braced himself before taking the man deep.

A stocky, well-dressed man with a beard walked in, a copy of the Wall Street Journal under his arm. He seemed about to leave hurriedly, when a look from the Smoker caused him to lean against the wall, watching the handsome young man servicing the older one. "Nice," he said, approvingly.

The Smoker smiled, and gasped as he came into Alex's mouth. He casually pushed Alex away and readjusted his clothing, but kept one hand pressed on a shoulder to keep Alex on his knees.

"Would you care for relief? He really is remarkably talented." The old man gestured for Alex to comply.

The businessman nodded, eagerly. "May I? Hes so handsome..." When the Smoker didnt object, he came over and stood before Alex, caressing his hair. "Such pretty eyes. What's your name, boy?"

Alex shivered, but made no move to avoid him. He lowered his eyes. "Alexei," he said in a thin voice.

The man put a hand on his shoulder. "Alexei, please..."

He felt as though no one had ever said please to him before. He rested his head on the man's thigh, flicking his tongue out to catch the man's zipper, and jerked it down with his teeth, as Sergei had taught him.

The man smiled. "Oh, Alexei..."

Krycek took the businessman in his mouth, working his lips and tongue over his fat cock.

The plane ride was actually a relief. The flight to Cairo was long enough for Alex to sleep, and the Smoker ignored him once they had boarded, occupying himself with his laptop on which he tapped out countless email messages. When they arrived, the Smoker was annoyed.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you further. El Habibi has gone on to Tunisia. You will need to follow. He has sent a jet for you. I have to remain here, which desolates me, but I'm sure that you'll be a good boy. I'll tell Dustin all about our journey together once I return to Washington."

"What will you tell him?" Krycek hissed. "That you made me you suck off, and then a total stranger? Oh, that will endear you to him. And don't forget the part about giving me to a man who wants to cut my balls off. Hell love you forever after."

A wrinkled hand shot out, and backhanded Alex across the face. As he sat, dazed, a trickle of blood dribbled from one corner of his mouth.

"Such a pity that you're losing your looks, Alex. Such a terrible shame." After deplaning, Alex was ushered into the airport and handed over to El Habibi's security guards.

Krycek scowled. He knew he was still pretty. He was! If he weren't, Habibi wouldn't want him. Then hope swelled. Maybe he wouldn't when he saw him. Krycek shook his head as two men in Arab robes took hold of him, thinking of Habibi's admonishments. Alexei, what have I told you about staying out of the sun? Your skin may not wrinkle now, but when you're older.

I'll take my leave of you now, my boy." The old man fondled Alex's face and then turned to leave, calling back over his shoulder as he went. "Ms. Covarrubias will be with you in three days. I'm sure you'll keep yourself amused between now and then.

A moment later, he'd gone, swallowed up by the crowds, leaving Alex alone with the guards.

Pyotor hung up the phone, smiling. He had actually been asked to work over Dustin! He took the stairs two at a time, slowing as he neared Dustin's room. He wanted this to last. Stepping into the darkened room, he could see the mans shape under the covers -- the arrogant hotshot producer who thought he was better than everyone else.

Crossing the room, he took Dustin's shoulder, shaking it. "Wake up pretty boy. I gotta talk to you."

Dustin had been dreaming. Sleep hadn't come easy to him that evening, but he was now in the throes of a disturbing dream where danger pressed in around him while he waited, unable to run and knowing that it was only a matter of time before the menace became reality.

As Pyotor shook him awake he sat bolt upright, disoriented and convinced that he was at home. When he saw who the intruder was, his heart sank. "What do you want?" he asked.

"The Master has a message for you," Pyotor sneered, foul breath close in Dustin's ear. "Your boyfriend was rude to him on the plane to Cairo. Talking back to him, giving lip."

He ran a hand down Dustin's back. "I can't wait to take you, my sweet, sweet boy. Oh! Do you know how much pleasure it gave me to fuck Alex, as he struggled and cried? The Master would never let me have him when he was a young boy. But now, when he becomes the child, the Master lets me at him."

He snickered, fetid breath rushing out. "He let me punish your Alex. As a teenager -- real or imagined. Do you know how it felt to have Alex begging, pleading to be let go, not knowing how to avoid being hurt?"

He stroked Dustin's chest. "Learned helplessness, Dustin." Pyotor unzipped his own pants. "Alex has lost some of the fire I see in you. I want some of that back."

"Oh, really?" Dustin whispered, shrinking back against the pillow. After a moment, he relaxed visibly. "I guess that you're too ugly to get yourself a date. You have to have people restrained to get any sex. Go away. All this posturing and posing is making me tired, and I really want to sleep." Dustin turned onto his side, yawning ostentatiously. "Close the door on your way out, would ya?"

Pyotor undressed, and snuggled in behind Dustin. "Maybe you didn't hear me, baby. The Master gave you to me for the night." He pulled Dustin's head around and back, cradling it with his hands. Swooping down for a kiss, his mouth dwarfed Dustin's as he insinuated his tongue past Dustin's teeth.

"I have a message for you, from Alex. Now, what was it?" He pulled back, putting his fingers to his chin in mock thought. "Oh, yes. He was so insolent to the Master that he dragged him into a bathroom en route to the first class lounge to teach him a lesson. Made Alex swallow his cock, and a total stranger's, as well. There was one other thing -- the reason he was so afraid to go to Egypt." He paused for effect, clutching Dustin's earlobe between his teeth. "El Habibi's gonna cut your boyfriend's nuts off, so's he'll behave. The Smoker wanted me to tell you that."

Messages delivered, Pyotor slid his hands around Dustin's waist, cupping his crotch, kneading it through his pajama pants. "Nice... nice." He pressed his crotch against Dustin's ass, undoing Dustins pants, working them down, pushing Dustin to his stomach with a huge hand. "Ill be the best you ever had. Better even than Alex. Youll really enjoy this, baby." He smiled, his hands now busy under Dustin's shirt.

For a moment, Dustin lay still, collecting his thoughts. The big oaf was determined. He'd known that this would come, if not tonight, then tomorrow, or the next day. If he were to get through it without injury, he would need to keep all his wits about him. He relaxed against Pyotor, neither fighting nor assisting the huge man as he groped beneath his pajamas.

His contemptuous words, however, were a different matter. "You think I'm going to be easy meat? That you can fuck me? maybe, but Ill come after you some day. Then youll be sorry."

"No, I'll be turned on," Pyotor hissed, parting Dustin's thighs with a knee. He put the tip of this fat cock on Dustin's rosebud. "You're so tight. I'm going to love coming inside of you. My cock's harder than I've ever felt it. I love your fire, boy." He licked at Dustin's neck.

Holding Dustin's shoulders, Pyotor grunted as he hefted himself up, pushed forward, and shoved his achingly hard cock into Dustin, as far as he could. He held the position, driven in deep. "So full of fire you don't struggle," he noted. "Alex could be like that. Not since he met you, though. He's been resisting a lot more, rebelling. Youre gonna to keep him in line."

"Me? Keep Alex in line?" scoffed Dustin. The penetration had been agony, but it was necessary. Dustin slipped his right hand under the pillow and took hold of the knife that Alex had given him.

Pyotor would relax, if he believed that Dustin wasn't going to fight. Then he'd get carried away by lust, and that was what Dustin wanted. Once the disgusting thug was well and truly involved in his act of rape Dustin would be able to strike and stand a chance of succeeding. He caught his breath in a moan of pain, and clenched his teeth.

"That's it, baby," Pyotor said, wrapping an arm around Dustin's chest. "Moan. Let me hear you." He pulled Dustin's head around for another kiss. "Ah, my stoic one. Keep Alex in line so's they won't cut his nuts off. The Master will let you call him tomorrow." He bit Dustin's shoulder, beginning to thrust furiously into Dustin's ass. It wouldn't be long now. "Oh, yeah," he chanted. "Oh, yeah, oh, yeah..."

The pain was intolerable. Tears were forced from Dustins eyes, and he suddenly knew that there was never going to be a better time. He slid the knife from beneath the pillow, reached down between his legs, and slashed at the other man's groin, sawing, regardless of the danger to his own genitalia, until he was free.

There was blood. There was so much blood that he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep in that bed again. Expelling the lump of flesh from himself, he turned to Pyotor.

"Die, you fucker. Die like the sorry piece of shit you are."

Howling in pain, Pyotor clutched at what was left of his dick and balls. "You..." he gasped, reaching for Dustin's wrist, bending it back. "You fucker. You're the fucker. You little devil."

Furious and terrified, Dustin kicked out at him, freeing himself, and then lunged, driving the knife into Pyotor's belly again and again. Pyotor shrieked as Dustin stabbed him again and again, trying to fight back, but in such agony that he had little coordination.

Horrified that Pyotor still appeared to be alive despite his efforts, he suddenly recalled Marita's lesson. If a fist to the throat would incapacitate, what might a knife achieve? He took a firm, two-handed grip on the knife that had become his talisman, and thrust it upward into Pyotor's throat.

Pyotor backed into a corner, too late seeing the knife shifting targets. "Devil, he hissed, as Dustin drove the knife home. "That's... Alex's ... knife." As his lifeblood spurted forth, his eyes focused for a final time on Dustin. He tried to speak, but could only gurgle. Gradually, the flow of blood slowed to a stream, a trickle, a stop. There was one final exhalation, fouler than the rest of Pyotor's breath, if that was possible, then the large man lay still, dead eyes staring sightlessly at Dustin.

Dustin stood with his back pressed against a wall with his teeth clamped firmly into his lower lip for a very long time, shaking like a leaf. He was saturated, red with blood, and his pajamas were ripped to shreds from the struggle.

Finally, Dustin stepped forward and spat on the body that sprawled across his floor.

"That was for Alex. He's safe from you now." Clutching his knife in his hand, Dustin opened the door to the leave his room and went in search of a bed for the rest of the night, stumbling down the corridor to the large sitting room at the end.

A nurse had heard the commotion and was on the way. When she saw Dustin step outside, she approached. "Mister Yarma... what... what happened? Who has done this?"

"I he " Dustin fell silent and merely pointed to the door of his room, permitting her to form her own opinion. The only thing that he knew was that he had to keep his knife. He waited until she stepped inside the room, and then kissed the blade, smearing blood all over his face. Looking around rapidly for somewhere to hide it, he stuffed it down behind the cushions of a chair that stood in the corner, before returning to stand, swaying slightly, by the door.

The nurse came back, obviously concerned. "That big bully tried to hurt you. I knew he was trouble the moment I laid eyes on him!" She put an arm around the shaking Dustin. "Are you all right? No, of course you're not. Come on. We'll get you cleaned up." She frowned, smoothing his blood soaked shirt. "Poor, poor dear." Clucking her tongue, she looked around. "Is there anything you need?"

"Alex?" Dustin knew, somewhere deep inside his mind that the request he made was impossible for her to fulfill. He took a deep breath, and thought harder, more practically. "A bath. Got blood on me." He slumped, and stood limply, afraid of everything.

She nodded, supporting him with an arm as she guided him up some stairs and to a large bathroom, luxurious in appointment. "With the Master gone, I can take care of you proper."

She pronounced it 'Massah' - an auditory trick? wondered Dustin. He was shocked, dazed.--

"Is Alex your lover's name? I've seen you together, in the gardens. I could tell that you love each other, but there was such fear in your eyes." She drew him a bath, with bubbles, urging, "Go ahead, sweetness." She helped him step into the tub, and began to gently clean him with a washtowel.

Dustin moved to sit down, but his ass was so sore where he'd been invaded without preparation that his breath caught when he tried, and he whimpered as the blood ran down the backs of his legs.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Alex yeah, Alex is my lover. I miss him." He couldn't say any more. He merely stood and waited for someone to help him, or to kill him.

The woman sighed. "What did he do to you?" She pulled him to her. "Sweetie... oh, my Lord." She looked away for a moment. "No one should be treated this way. Where is Alex? Is he..." Seeing the look in his eyes just about broke her heart. "Let's get you cleaned up, and into a soft bed," she said. "If you want, I'll stay by you so no one can hurt you again tonight. Or ever, if I can help it. You seem so sad." She smiled, stroking his arm gently.

Slowly, Dustin calmed down, and was finally able to sit down in the bathtub, although his breath hissed out in pain at the touch of the hot water. He began by scrubbing hard at the blood on his thighs, scrubbing until the flesh was reddened, and he could see the blood well up from the pores. He felt dirty. It didn't matter how hard he scoured, the filthy bastard's hands were still touching him, and he could still feel blood - Pyotors or his own, he really didnt know - spreading over his skin.

At last, he began to cry silently, the tears flowing despite his desire for them to stop.

"My name's Malia," the woman said softly. "Don't rub so hard -- you'll make it worse. I know he hurt you. I'll help you, if I can. Come on; don't hurt yourself. It's no use in hurtin' youself, darlin. Will you be okay if I go to fix up your bed now?"

Dustin nodded. He was fine. He was more than fine, but he wanted his knife. When she left, he climbed out of the tub, wrapped a towel around himself and left the room, racing through the building for the place hed left it while his heart beat an anxious tattoo against his ribs.

Retrieving his knife took only a few minutes, and washing it in the soapy bathwater was the work of an instant. Hiding it was more difficult. He knew that the knife was magical, and he wasn't going to permit anything to stand in the way of his possession of it. Finally, he tucked it down into the towel he was wearing, and trusted to luck that it wouldnt be discovered.

"Come on. I've made you a bed. Come lay down. You'll be safe. I won't let anyone hurt you." Malia had returned, holding a fresh towel, reaching for the other one. As she took it, the knife clattered to the ground. They both bent to retrieve it, Dustin coming away with it and holding it close, like the talisman hed come to believe it was.

"Good. You've something for protection. That's a good thing!" She sighed, thinking of Pyotor. "A very good thing."

Whimpering, Dustin continued held the knife to him, fingers curved around the hilt. "It's mine. Alex gave it to me. It saved me." He smiled, a hard, wild smile. "He thought that he could just use me like a whore, but I'm not a whore. I showed him that he can't hurt Alex." He shuddered, and then looked at Malia. "You think that he'll hurt Alex any more?"

"Who, Pyotor?" He's so fragile, so frightened, she thought, and smiled. "Not if he's dead. You killed him; see? You saved your lover. I'm -- I'm sure he'll be grateful." Where was his lover, though? He hadn't answered. Maybe now he would. "You're not a whore, sweetie. You're a man, just like any other."

She led him to a master bedroom, with a featherbed. "Your Alex, where is he?"

"I don't know. He was forced to go to Cairo." Dustin was utterly exhausted. "Pyotor said that they were going to cut off his balls." He crumpled then, reacting to the events of the day. "He gave... me the knife," he sobbed.

"Cut off his... you must be... poor thing. That must have been a fairy story. I don't believe they would do that. Only a butcher would do that." Malia frowned, as she pulled down the covers on the bed and gently urged Dustin to lay down. "Why was he sent away and not you with him?"

Dustin permitted the motherly nurse to settle him into the soft bed, but spoke no further, placing his knife under the pillow. It was a long time before sleep returned to him.

The plane landed in Tunis and the guards hustled Alex into a Range Rover, driving him to El Habibi's palace, where he was shown into the foyer. Someone instructed him to kneel before El Habibi entered the room, and at a shove from a guard, he stumbled to the floor.

Growling, he moved to stand, but was held in place as Habibi entered the room.

Alex shivered.

The man was obscenely fat, and wore a traditional galabiyeh that flowed to his feet, making him resemble a ship in full sail. A snap of his fingers released Alex from the hands that held him, and a further snap brought a young servant with a tray on which sat a teapot and two cups.

"Alex Krycek," said the Arab. "I'm so happy to see you. Come." He gestured for Alex to stand and led the way to a couch, motioning for Alex to take a seat beside him on the cushions before offering him tea.

Maybe if I'm good he won't cut me, thought Alex hopefully. He kept his features impassive as he rose, as gracefully as he could, and walked over to the offered seat. Sitting down with feline grace, he looked at Habibi from under lowered eyelids as he accepted his tea.

"Thank you, Effendi. It's very good to see you, as well." I can do this. For Dustin, I can do this, he told himself. At the thought of Dustin he had trouble keeping a wistful look off of his face.

El Habibi clicked his fingers once again, and trays loaded with food of different sorts arrived. "Would you care for refreshment, Alex? I know how difficult it is for one who has crossed the Atlantic. You must be exhausted." The gross man reached out to caress Alex's neck as he spoke, and then took a small pastry from one of the trays and held it to Alex's lips.

Steeling himself, Alex curved his lips in imitation of a smile. "Thank you, Effendi. To be honest, I slept most of the way. I wanted to be well rested for you," he purred, glancing at the foul man seductively, lowering his lashes again. "Ive missed you, you know." Bile rose in his throat and he fought to control it as he accepted the pastry.

It was sticky, sugary, and frosted, and Alex took care to lick every bit of frosting off of Habibi's sausage-like fingers after eating it. He licked his lips, and purred again, apparently content. "That was delicious, Effendi."

Actually, it was horrible. He wanted to throw up, but he was good at what he did. He could feel the game coming back to him, and the thrill with it.

The obese man seemed well pleased, studying Alex intently. It had been two years since the two of them had met and he had feared that with the passing of time, Alex would have begun to lose his looks. He found himself entranced by Alex's eyes, now turned on him with every sign indicating that Alex was fascinated by him.

Alex fluttered his lashes as the man scrutinized him, doing his best to look appealing.

"I've missed you, my beautiful Russian. I'm so happy that you will be staying here with me for a while. I've never found another with your talents." The Arab stood, waving to summon his servants. "Bring me the gifts I purchased for this man."

Raising his eyes to Habibi, Alex smiled sweetly. "I've missed you, too. You were always kind." Maybe if I show humility, he thought, Habibi won't cut me. If Im docile, why bother? He subtly stroked his hip pocket, where he'd secreted a nasty knife. Not as pretty as the one he'd given Dustin, but just as deadly.

Several boxes were brought, and laid before the fat man. On inspection, they were found to contain a golden collar, a silken garment that was designed to cover little more than Alex's hips. Sandals and aromatic oil made up the balance of the contents.

"These have been waiting for you since the last time you were here, my friend. I long to see you dressed as befits my favorite. Indulge me, please." El Habibi licked his lips, continuing to trail his fingers over Alex's face and neck.

Alex bowed his head. "If it pleases you, I will wear them. Thank you. They're lovely." He allowed himself to be led into a chamber, where several young women in traditional Arab dress were ready to anoint his body with the oils and prepare him.

When he returned to El Habibi, he was transformed. His body had been oiled and perfumed, and he was clad in the filmy loincloth and leather sandals that the Arab had provided. They had gilded his nipples, put kohl on his eyes, and dusted his face and chest with gold powder.

El Habibi was visibly moved by Alex's transformation from western thug to odalisque. It was plainly apparent that he had an erection. He gestured to Alex to come to him, and indicated that he should kneel before him.

Smiling slightly, trickster Hermes come to life in winged sandals, Krycek danced to Habibi's side, kneeling obediently. Familiar feelings of comfort threatened to overtake him as he recalled the way this man took care of him. But then he remembered the cruel punishments and tortures that were the other side of Habibi's hospitality, and that was enough for him to keep his edge. Looking up at El Habibi, he hoped to appear angelic, but he felt his body tremble.

"Oh, my beautiful young man." El Habibi leaned forward to capture Alex's mouth in a kiss that invaded him as he knelt, submissively.

Krycek felt himself stiffen as the fat, foul tasting tongue invaded his mouth. He couldn't breathe, and involuntarily reared back, before he could help it. Moving to correct his error, he swiftly put his hand to the man's fat cheek, fighting not to gag as he returned the kiss.

"If only we could repair the damage to your arm. You were perfection, and that has spoiled a work of art."

He lifted the hem of his robe, rolling it up to reveal his erection, stiff and dripping between massive thighs.

When he was presented with the man's gleaming cock, he had to fight the urge to be sick. He gave the crown a lick, but bile rose in his stomach.

Imagining it was Dustins, Alex took the head into his mouth.

Dustin woke to Malia shaking his shoulder urgently.

"What?" His eyes felt gummy and he was tired and disoriented. All of a sudden, the memories crashed in on him. He'd killed Pyotor. My God! What had he done? He sat up, horrified. She said nothing to him, merely handing him a cell phone.

The voice on the other end was steady as ever. "Good morning, Dustin. Did you have a good sleep?" He could hear the man take a drag on his cigarette as he waited for a reply.

"Good morning," croaked Dustin. His mind was racing as he tried to decide exactly what to say to the man he perceived as the source of all his problems. "How how is Alex?"

"Alex? I imagine he's fine. You'll be able to call him later. He's with El Habibi now. Don't worry. Mr. Habibi loves Alex, and will treat him well." He took another drag on his cigarette. "I hear there was an incident last night with Pyotor." He sounded slightly giddy.

"Alex was afraid of El Habibi. Pyotor told me that he was going to " Dustin's voice failed him for a moment. "I killed him, you know. He raped me, so I killed him. I cut him up."

All of a sudden, the room seemed to be far too warm, the air thick in his lungs. A vision of Pyotor, bleeding and dying, rose up to gibber in his mind, and he felt faint. "I killed him," he repeated, uncertainly.

"I know you did, son," the Smoker said softly. "That's good. In fact, that's great. It was what I was looking for. Alex was afraid of Habibi?"

"You wanted me to kill him?" The nave question was out of Dustin's mouth before he thought it through. "I don't understand. Why would you want me to kill him?" Dustin took a deep breath and forged ahead. "You know that El Habibi terrified him. He wanted to geld Alex - to turn him into a eunuch. Why would you let that happen to him? Hasn't he served you well?"

"Yes, he has, and that's why I have sold him to a man who would care for him, love him, after his retirement. I believe I've found a suitable replacement for him. Your behavior last night only serves to positively reinforce that belief." Dustin could hear the satisfaction in his voice, and knew instinctively that he was smiling. "In his retirement Alex will be loved, bejeweled and anointed with the sweetest oils. Dont you want that for him?"

"No!" Dustins cry was almost a scream. "Don't. Please dont. I need him. He's mine."

It didn't seem to matter what he did, everything pulled him deeper and deeper into the trap this old spider had laid for them. He needed Alex, and he didn't know how to help him.

"Please let Alex come back to me? He loves me. Why would you send him off to live with some Arab when it's me he loves?"

"Love?" the Smoker laughed. "This isnt about love. It's about money, and politics. If you knew about those things, if you knew the implications, the reasons, you might hope to understand. But you're a boy in love, and boys in love won't hear anything else." The Smoker took another drag before continuing, "You don't love Alex. You love the idea that you have of Alex. Just as Habibi does. But the images are different from the reality. Don't you see? Alex is only in your mind, a mental construct, if you will."

He exhaled before aiming his reasonable tone at Dustin again.. "You... you have substance. Substance that can be felt, heard. Your voice is alive with hate. I like that very much. When I return tonight, you will make me happy. Won't you, Dustin? Be my new pet?"

Head spinning, Dustin tried to think how to best to answer. The silence lengthened, as fragile and brittle as glass, and then finally, the words came. "I belong to Alex. He belongs to me. Hes all I need. Thank you for your kind offer." Dustin didn't wait for a reply. He flipped off the phone, and climbed out of bed, wondering where his clothes were.

As if on cue, Malia appeared with a fresh suit. "Here you are, Mr. Yarma. What would you like for breakfast, and where will you be taking it this morning?"

Dustin winced as he began to dress himself. The torn tissues of his backside made movement extremely painful. Coffee and juice were about all he could contemplate. He gave his order, and then as an afterthought, asked if he could see a doctor.

Malia nodded. "Of course. Please, follow me." He was led to an examination room. Malia told him to wait, and went off in the direction of the kitchen.

An elderly man walked into the room, accompanied by Greta. "Let us hope hes not hurt too badly," Greta said. The doctor grunted and regarded Dustin, bidding him get undressed and onto the examining table. Throughout the examination that followed, Dustin was placid, permitting the doctor to do as he wished. Finally, her was given ointment, painkillers, and an injection, and dismissed.

He was alone; he was afraid; but he would manage.

After all, he had his knife.

6: Present Tense

The days dragged by. Nobody had attempted any further rape, and Dustin began to heal. He'd developed a series of exercises pulled together from the combat techniques that Marita had shown him, and from a couple of videotapes that he'd found in the library. He wasn't sure how much help any of it was going to be to him, but he had to try. He had his knife safely stashed away in the bedroom that they'd allocated to him following Pyotor's death, and he waited for something to change, knowing that when it did, it would most likely be for the worse, rather than for the better.

Spender walked into the house, dismissing his chauffeur peremptorily. He couldn't wait to see his new son. He saw more fire in him than Alex had displayed in a long time, and he was attracted to it. He wanted to make it, to make Dustin, his own. To break him as he had Alex, and see him bent to his will.

He smiled grimly as he stopped in his study, passing the room where he kept videotapes of Alex and himself. Since Alex was a little boy, he had made and saved home movies covering every, even the most intimate, aspect of Alex's life.

He walked into Dustin's bedroom without knocking. Dustin's back was turned towards him. He stood in the doorway, a small smirk on his face, puffing on his cigarette.

After a beat, he said, "Hello, Dustin. I trust my people have made you welcome and treated you with the utmost respect?"

Dustin, who had been reading a book, turned around very slowly, gripping it tightly as he attempted to compose himself ready to face Alex's nemesis.

"Respect? Oh yeah. They surely have. I'd like to thank them all for the night that big leather bastard broke in on me and raped me. Nothing else has quite lived up to that, yet. What's the encore going to be?" He stood up, laying his book down behind him on the chair and padded towards the Smoker. "How is Alex? I want to know that he's okay."

Spender frowned histrionically. "I am sorry about Pyotor, Dustin. But you must understand, if Alex hadn't been so insolent towards me, I wouldn't have had to take such... regrettable measures." He inhaled a long drag, then, with a blink of his eyes that seemed to say, 'you see how it is, guys. I had no choice in the matter,' he exhaled in Dustin's direction.

"Alex is with Habibi now. I expect he's all right, as long as he's behaved himself."

Spender walked in, uninvited, and stood face to face with Dustin. He looked into his eyes. He saw hate there... hate, defiance... and something more. He blinked, and waited to see what Dustin would say or do.

"Can I speak to him? I'd be so grateful." Dustin lowered his lashes in a gesture that invited complicity. "I really need to know how he's doing." Turning, he walked to the window, looking out over the windswept lawn at the leafless trees. "He's the most important thing in my life."

Dustin said no more, merely stood and waited for whatever response might come. Inside, he was quivering with a desperate desire to scream.

Spender walked over behind Dustin, leaning in close to speak directly into his ear.

"Of course you can. Did I not promise you that you could? Tell him to be a good boy, and maybe he'll be returned to us ... whole." He laughed, and produced a cell phone. He punched in a number, and waited.

When it was answered, he said, "May I speak to El Habibi, please. Yes... "

"Haroun? How good to hear your voice! How is Alex doing? Are you finding him quite to your liking?"

As Dustin listened, his breath caught in his throat at the sound of the old man's words. Alex must at least still live, or Spender would not be chatting so happily. He froze, attempting to hear the words that were being uttered at the other end of the line. Would Alex be there?

"Please?" he whispered, strain showing in his husky voice as he willed the old man to get Alex for him.

"Alex is most definitely the jewel in my collection, Mr. Spender. I should thank you once more for supplying him to me. I am finding him most satisfactory." The voice was very faint but Dustin could make out the man's speech well enough. His heart leapt. At least Alex still lived.

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear that. Tell me; is he available to speak? But first, how is your project going?"

"The project continues well. We have the hybrid clones in stasis pending an analysis of their tissue. It is to be hoped that the virus we introduced has been able to merge with their DNA. My pet is here with me. He may speak with you for one minute, no more."

"Thank you. I'd appreciate it." Spender smiled at Dustin, holding up a finger.

Alex was standing beside his new master. The collar he wore was chafing his neck. Though he hated wearing collars, he didn't dare say anything. Over the past three days he had been forced to service El Habibi in the most degrading and humiliating ways, and he felt he might snap at any time. He had tried to act as a good catamite should, demure and amenable, but there was a streak of the rebel in him just under the surface.

He looked at Habibi out of the corner of his eyes, then lowered them quickly as Habibi turned towards him, bowing his head demurely.

Spender had taught him his role here well.

As Dustin craned his neck, he heard the honey and gravel voice of his lover emanating from the phone. . He quivered with impatience as he waited for the phone to be handed to him. The vile old man was taunting him, taking his time, knowing how he longed to speak to Alex. Balling his fists, he tried to hold back from punching Spender.

Spender smiled cruelly. "Alex. I have someone with me who wishes to speak to you."

, Alex answered, dully, "Yes?"

He inclined his head as El Habibi held the phone to his ear and mouth, placing a hand on his master's chest to show his submission.

Dustin took the phone, feeling a thrill rush through him. Alex. It was Alex on the phone and he would be able to make sure that he was still whole.

"Alex? Talk to me. Are you okay, love?" His voice caught and he waited, desperate to hear Alex reply.

Alex suddenly felt weak. It was Dustin - his Dustin. El Habibi didn't know that, though. At least he didn't think he knew that. But as he thought of it, it was entirely conceivable that... he took a breath, willing his voice not to shake. "Yes, I'm all right. I'm fine." Oh, Dustin, he thought. How glad I am that you can't see me now, in this humiliating outfit I have to wear, and in this collar... Dustin! It was his Dustin on the phone! "How... are you?" he managed, trying to keep emotion out of his voice, yet wishing he didn't have to, hoping Dustin would understand.

Hearing the guarded tone in Alex's voice, Dustin was instantly aware that his lover was unable to speak freely. "Baby, are you being overheard? Are you hurt? What can you tell me, love?"

Just hearing his voice was wonderful. Alex was still alive. He sounded unhappy, but maybe, just maybe they would survive, and perhaps they would be together once again. "I love you, baby. Stay focused, and we'll get through this."

Alex drew in a shuddering breath. Dustin! Dustin was so strong, and he felt so weak right now. He bit at his lip to keep from saying the first words that came to mind. Fixing his eyes on his sandals, he spoke neutrally, hoping to sound as though he was talking to no one special. "Yes. No, not really... no, I don't... I can't tell you that."

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine Dustin kissing him, holding him. "Please..." he whispered, softly and unconsciously. "Oh, please..."

He needed his lover's strength, his fire. El Habibi hadn't made a move to geld him yet, but he knew it was still in the offing, even though he had been as good and as pretty a boy as he knew how. The thought made bile rise in his throat.

"I... yes, yes." Hold me, Dustin, he thought. Please, hold me... keep me afloat. Help me... don't let me stay here, please, please... He sent these thoughts to Dustin silently, along with intangible caresses and kisses. Love you, God I love you.

"Are things... all right with you?" He kept his voice even, although he knew the Smoker was with his love, probably even touching him. He had to bite his lip again to keep from crying out in rage and pain. "Are you well?"

"I'm okay, baby. I'm fine." Dustin tried really hard to think of something that he could say to Alex that would make his lover feel better. There had to be something. The Smoker was leaning against the wall beside him, smiling his cynical smile. I want to punch his face and wipe the grin away, thought Dustin. "I killed Pyotor for you. He deserved to die for the things that he did to you. Since then nobody's been near me."

"What? " Alex nearly lost his composure. Dustin, killed Pyotor? No one could kill Pyotor. He was too big, always there; he would hurt you if you tried to... "No, no, it... can't be," he breathed softly. "Don't... let them..." Fuck! What could he say without giving anything away? By his tone Dustin meant him to be happy, but instead he felt sick. "Come back after you..." he continued, under his breath. He leaned back against the table for support, but Habibi had slipped behind him and he fell against him instead. Too petrified to move or say anything, he simply drew in a ragged breath. Where was Marita?

"I did it, love, He'll never hurt anyone again." Dustin could see from the Smoker's expression that he didn't have much more time. As he saw the old men gesture that he should finish, he hastily whispered, "I love you. I'll always love you, Alex." When at last the Smoker held out his hand for him to pass the phone, he felt his sinuses fill with tears that he couldn't shed.

Spender put the phone to his ear. "As you can see, my boy, he still loves you and needs you very much. You wouldn't... do anything to further jeopardize him, would you? And yes, by the way, he did kill Pyotor. Though whether for you or because he was being brutally raped, I can't say. Perhaps I should send you the excellent video I'm assured we have of it."

Alex felt his knees wobble, and a tear well in his eye. "No." To keep from raging, dug his nails into his palms, but he still let out a soft, low-pitched cry. To cover himself he turned to Habibi, burying his face in his robes, and wrapped an arm around the foul man. Even if he was vile, he hadn't... He leaned into Habibi, opening and closing his eyes, fighting for control.

Spender clicked his cell phone off, smirking at Dustin.

Dustin gritted his teeth, counted to ten, and then he drew a deep breath. Showtime, he thought to himself. "Thank you for letting me hear his voice, sir. It was kind," he said. If he had to be polite to this monster for the sake of his lover, then that's what he would do. Alex deserved everything that he could give him. "Believe me, sir, if it hadn't been for Alex, there's no way I'd have been able to kill that bastard, Pyotor." Spender put an arm around Dustin in a fatherly gesture. "That's all right, my boy. You're quite welcome." He appreciated Dustin's show of respect, and the way he'd called him sir, though he knew he had to be seething inside. He'd seen the flicker..."You don't think you would have killed him on your own?" Spender frowned, genuinely confused. This was a man of spirit and vengeance, a quicksilver. Why would he have needed Alex, to kill Pyotor? "What do you mean, son?"

Dustin could feel his skin crawl as the Smoker drew close to him. Softly, Dustin, he thought. Don't undo the good work. You've got him guessing now. The longer you keep him guessing, the better off we'll be. He turned to face the old man.

"Until Alex, I was a fairly ordinary guy, I guess. I would never have thought it possible that I could do damage to someone as big and malicious as Pyotor. If he'd raped me, I'd have folded, there's no question of that." He drew in another long, deep breath. "Alex showed me the value of strength, sir. He had to be broken. You couldn't ever have coerced him to anything. He's the brave one. You are nothing beside him, and no matter what you do to him, he will still be my love."

Spender drew back his hand and slapped Dustin across the face, raising welts with the force of his blow. He stepped back, glaring at him. "I'm nothing? Nothing, Dustin? Alex does what I wish, nothing more. You want me to prove it to you? Show you some movies, perhaps?" He drew out his lighter, and lit a cigarette. "You're a producer, Dustin. How would you like to attend our own private film festival? Oh, very much indie films. World premieres, you might say." His lips twisted into the familiar cruel smirk.

"I can show you what he is... and how he got that way." He exhaled, a smug look on his face.

Dustin's heart thumped. Perhaps this would shed some light on what had happened to turn Alex into the groveling child he had seen when he'd first arrived in DC. If he could see what had been done, he might be able to extrapolate how to undo it once more.

"I'd be most interested to see the show, sir. I'd be most honored if you were to remain at my side and interpret what's happening so that I can understand what the purpose of it might be." He touched his cheek, feeling the heat from the place where the Smoker had struck him. "Violence is always the easy option, sir. Who's to say if there might not be a better way?"

"My beautiful boy." Spender drew Dustin to him, kissing him on the cheek, then dropping a kiss on his lips. "You are quite right. Oh... my pretty one. Where have you been all this time?" He positively glowed. Dustin's reply thrilled him to the core. Someone else who appreciated mind games... one he could teach. And then destroy. He wasn't a child, no, but that made the challenge so much more thrilling.

He squeezed Dustin's shoulder as he stepped back. "Good, good," he said jovially. He might have been a studio head accepting a movie deal. "Can I expect you in an hour, then? I'll have someone fetch you."

Every hour that passed was an hour closer to freedom. You'd better believe it, Dustin, he thought wildly. The kisses had unnerved him a little. Resisting the urge to scrub at his lips until the skin bled, Dustin smiled, intentionally seductive.

"I'll look forward to it, sir." Inside his mind, he was rehearsing for the day that his knife would cut out this bastard's heart. He would offer it up to Alex on his return.

Spender sat on the couch in his office, a stack of videos in front of him. He took a drag on his cigarette, waiting for Dustin. He would allow him to choose the movie he wanted to watch first.

Dustin - so like Alex and yet not like him at all. Well, of course he wasn't like Alex - he'd never been captive before. Or knew true privation. He carried himself like a Siamese that had been pampered all its life and expected nothing less.

He was going to enjoy this.

A sound in the doorway caused him to look up. "Ah. There you are. Come in, come in! Would you like a drink?"

Dustin had dressed with care, and made himself as pleasant as possible. He considered having something alcoholic for Dutch courage, but he knew that he would require all his wits about him for this coming ordeal. He smiled faintly at the Smoker, and shook his head.

"A coffee would be good if you have it, but I'm not a drinker, thank you," he replied, and stood looking around, wondering if he could sit somewhere out of reach of the old devil with whom he was about to spar.

Spender laughed. "I know you drink, Dustin. You forget, Mackey's been an employee of mine... so to speak... for a long time. You can be quite the drinker. In fact, wasn't it drinking that got you in trouble?"

Coloring up, Dustin managed a calm response. "I vowed that I wouldn't drink alcohol any more after what happened to me," he said, referring to the death of Tara and Minnow's subsequent disruption of his life. "I don't ever want to lose control like that again. Once is enough." He darted a glance at the stack of tapes that the Smoker was guarding. "Is this Alex's whole life on tape?" he asked, facetiously.

Spender smiled. "Parts of it. There's more, should we get through these. Or should you get through them, I should say. I've seen them before... many times. Choose one, Dustin. Where would you like to start? What do you wish to know about?" He smiled teasingly, theatrically indicating the tapes. "Or see. Do you want to see him learning to please? Or maybe you'd like to see some of the techniques we used to brainwash him. They are part of the same thing - they go hand in hand. It's really rather fascinating to watch. Go on, my boy. Select a tape." Gritting his teeth, Dustin stood, debating his answer. Finally, he frowned. "I can't decide. Maybe you should choose for me. You know the order in which you did things. Only you can know what I need to see." He moved to a corner of the couch and sat on the edge. "Why don't you pick the first one? I'm willing to be entertained."

Spender frowned. He'd wanted Dustin to choose, and reveal what his draw was. What interested him. Well, maybe he knew the game as well. Ah, so. Nothing he couldn't use to his advantage, that.

"Well, I think you know better than I what you need to see. But, very well." Smiling an indulgent smile, he took the first tape off the stack and put it into the VCR. "This was when Alexei was about 12. He hadn't yet been to the gulag. The occasion was a diplomatic gala for some Middle Eastern UN dignitaries. The purpose - Alexei's purpose - was to get us something on tape with which to blackmail certain of the 'guests of honor.' Watch now. He really does an excellent job... see how he looks inviting, serving drinks in his nice suit, and then later..." He couldn't hide a smile. "Well, you'll see." He walked over to the couch, and sat a few feet from him, smiling the smile of an indulgent father.

A much younger Alex was there on the screen, sleek and elegant in a summer tux, passing through a group of similarly attired men, offering trays of hors d'oeuvres and drinks to the assorted crowd. Slim and straight, the boy could only have been around 12 years old, and his quick movements were graceful as he threaded his way amongst the guests.

From time to time he would vanish into a room behind the bar, and Dustin observed that men would follow him in. At no time did the smile leave the boy Alex's features.

On the screen, the Smoker, younger, appeared beside Alex, handed him a piece of paper and whispered to him. He led Alex behind the bar briefly, and when they returned he patted Alex's shoulder.

Alex smiled back and began scanning the crowd, obviously looking for someone. Spotting him, Alex picked up a drink, heading towards a man in a white tux, a look of satisfaction on the pretty features. The man leered, taking the drink Alex offered. Alex whispered to him, and the man nodded. Alex dropped his eyes enticingly, and the man's smile grew.

Beside Dustin, Spender sneered. "He used to so enjoy this. When he was good, we rewarded him... we let him kill."

Dustin blinked. "You taught him to kill? How...how old was he?" Watching the quicksilver little boy, he was half charmed and half horrified. How could anyone have done this to him?

"He killed that man some time later, actually. Yes. I showed him the thrill of using one's anger. Hiding it behind a mask, a facade, and then... then he could let it go. But Alexei... Alexei grew to enjoy killing too much. We needed to rein him in. He once killed a man he was to ... charm. You can understand we couldn't allow that." Spender smiled thinly. "He soon learned to control his... impulses." "What did the man he killed do to him?" Dustin asked him. "He must have been afraid. Have you ever done the things that you forced him to do?" The horror of Alex's plight seemed to be a fiction. He couldn't bear the thought that it might really have happened. Alex was his, and precious.

"Afraid?" Spender asked. "Yes, Alexei sometimes became afraid. Despite my assurances that I would always care for him, and keep him safe from harm. You want to know what the man did to him? He tried to rape him, after Alexei had already serviced him. Maybe you'd like to see the tape?" He looked at Dustin curiously. "Have I ever done what things? Why would I? Alex did those things. It was his purpose."

"You promised to keep him safe from harm. Allowing someone to rape him after such a promise is hardly keeping your word to him." Dustin shook his head. "I really don't understand why you would allow such a precious weapon to become a dull blade when you could have kept him sharp."

Chew on that! he thought, malevolently. Sheer anger at this evil old man, who had abused his love throughout his entire life, rose up in his throat to choke him.

Spender grabbed Dustin's shoulder, forcing him to look at him. "Dull? Alex is sharp. The best weapon I have. I created him, and nothing can dull his edge. That is why he will succeed... why he will return. And why I can never let him go."

Onscreen, the party had finished. Maids and waiters were cleaning up the house. The scene cut to Alex's room. He sat on the bed, knees to chest, hugging himself. Spender stood over him.

"Please... please don't make me. You say I like it but I don't... why do I have to do this?" Alex was saying through his sobs, in a high, thin voice.

Spender sat beside him. "My pretty one, everyone has his skills and aptitudes. This is yours, and you excel at it. Now, buck up. Stop your tears, and that'll be the end of it. There's a good boy."

On the bed, Alex sniffled a few last times, then turned towards the wall, clenching and unclenching a fist.

"You told me that he was no longer any use to you. Now you tell me that he's sharp and that he's the best weapon that you have. I don't understand your intent. All I see is that you hate him, and enjoy causing him distress." Dustin sat back against the cushions of the couch, frowning as he watched the boy on the screen lying, lost and alone, with nobody to turn to.

"Hate him?" Spender blinked. "Hardly. I love him with all my heart. He's going to save the world, you'll see. Or at least have a large part in its salvation. He just needs to be disciplined. When did I tell you he was of no use to me? I need him very much. You might say the future of the world depends on it. I love him dearly, Dustin. You must believe that." Spender actually looked hurt.

"If you love him," said Dustin carefully, trying his best to betray no emotion, "Why do you take joy in hurting him? Love isn't like that." The boy on the screen seemed so small, and so alone. Dustin tried to imagine how life must have been for him.

"He is what he is," Spender replied.

Onscreen, Alex had curled into a fetal position, hugging his pillow, and sobbed quietly.

"If he were permitted... distractions... do you think he'd be able to carry out his work, fulfill his purpose as well as he has? He's done so much good as he is. I'm so proud of him."

Spender reached for Dustin, stroking his cheek. "Don't you see? He has natural aptitude. I only... provided an optimal environment. To shape him to what he must do."

"You rule him through fear, not love. If you showed him love, he never would have run from you. Don't you understand?" Dustin permitted the old man's touch, although his skin crawled. "Why would you do that?"

"Love is a distraction. It would take away from his purpose." Spender lit a cigarette, leaning back. "Love can make a man weak. I'm sure you know that. Alex does. Do you know you're not his first love?"

On the screen, Alex fell to sleep. A few minutes later, his door opened, and a man, a stranger, entered.

As Dustin watched, the sleeping boy was roused and abused. Horrified, Dustin watched the child that his lover had been seize a knife from beneath his pillow, and stab his tormentor until the man lay dead across his frail body. He shuddered as the boy broke down and sobbed in pain and terror until at last he fell back to sleep again, unable to move because of the weight of the corpse that lay over him.

"Why the hell didn't you help him?" He was dumbfounded at the boy's appalling plight'. If ever he found Alex again, he would never let him go.

Spender was smiling at the screen, obviously enthralled. "Because he was able to handle it himself," was the rapt reply. "Don't you see? Alexei needed to learn how to defend himself, and that he didn't have to put up with unauthorized intrusions. He needed some confidence."

Spender gazed at Dustin with the same intensity. "What if I'd walked in and prevented Pyotor from raping you? What good would that have done you?"

Dustin growled, anger pounding within his head. "He was just a little kid. How could you leave him so long with that... that thing on the top of him? Look at him. He... " Dustin gestured to the pitiful child cowering on the bed, sucking his thumb and whimpering. Onscreen, the door opened, and Spender walked in. He walked to the bed, pulling Alex gently out from under the body. He hugged him, stroked him. Kissed him softly on the cheek. "It's okay, Alexei... Daddy's proud of you."

Alex shook, standing in Spender's arms, raising large, frightened eyes. "I... I never killed before."

"No," Spender was saying. "But you will again."

Onscreen, Alex whimpered and looked at the man on the bed who had hurt him. He was obviously in shock. Spender drew him to his side, rubbing his back.

On the couch, Spender smiled. "Not so long. Just long enough."

The winter palace of Haroun El Habibi was richly furnished with rugs and cushions. The public rooms had western furniture in them, but the owner's private quarters were more traditionally furnished. Haroun himself half sat, half lay on a pile of silken cushions, smoking, and watching a series of servants disrobe for him. From time to time he indicated his interest, and the favored person would step to one side. The others left the room at his languid wave. There were three naked servants standing before him when his current favorite, Alex, entered the room and knelt at his feet, head pressed to the floor in obeisance.

Alex was wearing only the collar that was the mark of his servitude, and he glistened with the oil that had been applied to his skin.

Alex chafed inside. He didn't belong here, wearing this collar. He felt that if Habibi fed him one more sweet pastry, he would throw up. The oil was all right, but what came after... oh, what came after.

Alex rose to his knees with grace, keeping his eyes lowered, awaiting Haroun's judgment. He'd brushed his hair and filed his nails, painted his nipples and shaved his body to perfection.

"What is your command, Master?" His throat balked at the words, but they had to be spoken.

"Alex, my sweet. You are, as ever, a joy to me. I rejoice to see you looking as beautiful as the dawn over the desert. I desire that you should take these poor playthings that I have set aside for you and teach them some of the games that you love to play with me. Are they not perfect toys for your delight?" The obese sheik indicated the three servants, two young women and one man, who stood, uncertain.

Silently, Krycek rose to his feet. With feline grace, he walked over to the three, casting his eyes over them in turn.

The man was blonde, bronzed and tightly muscled, though small of bone. His fine features looked strong yet delicate. His eyes were the deepest blue; his lips were strawberry red. Alex decided that he was handsome. Perhaps, under other circumstances...

One woman was dark, with raven hair and brown eyes. Her body some would call pleasingly plump, a dusky hue that shimmered with oils. Her face was painted, and she smiled at him when he nodded to her.

He turned to the third person, a willowy blonde with glacier blue eyes. She was supple as a Siamese, tight as a bowstring. He forced his eyes not to roam her body, but focused instead on her lips. Making sure his back was to Habibi, he caught her eye. 'Marita?' he mouthed, taking the man and other woman by the hand.

Marita lowered her head in a submissive attitude, nodding as she did so.

Alex drew his hand down the man's chest, pulling the other woman towards him. "How did you...?"

"Shh," Marita said, swaying like an eel to music that suddenly sounded from nowhere. She danced towards him, passing a hand over his shoulders. "I arranged to be bought as a 'harem girl' in Thailand," she whispered as she passed. "Go with it."

Alex started to sway his hips, stunned. To hide his happiness that she was there at last, he pressed up against the young man, nipping at his neck. "What's your name, boy," he whispered gruffly.

As he stuttered out his name, Günter, Alex dropped to his knees before him, taking his penis between his lips so that his master could watch as he aroused the young man. He'd played this game before for the dissolute biologist, and knew exactly what was required of him. He knew that he would end up watching as his master possessed his playthings, and tonight was probably going to be lucky for him. He would likely not have to be subjected to the Arab's desires. The youth that he was titillating had now come to full erection and was beginning to pump his hips in his desire to finish. Alex withdrew from him and applied a cock restraint, then led him over to the cushions where El Habibi was seated.

Forcing the young man to kneel, knees spread out before the master, he returned to where the two women waited.

The dark haired girl came towards him, and he smiled, taking her hand and twirling her playfully. He moved his hands over her body, sliding to his knees once more to suck on her breasts. Slipping a hand lower, placing it between her thighs, he began to tease her to arousal.

When she stood before him, naked and filled with lust, he brought her over towards Habibi. He knew Marita was next, and he felt his face flush slightly in embarrassment. She was his friend.

"Kneel," he instructed the young woman, positioning her beside Günter.

Rising once more, he walked back to where Marita waited for him.

He knew her body, and he aroused her deftly, watching as her eyelids grew heavy and her skin flushed pink on the white. As he ran searching hands over her torso and down to part her thighs, her hands shadowed his, and he felt her press a heavy gold ring onto his little finger. As he buried his face in the moist folds of her flesh, he heard her breathe one word, 'poison,' and then she gave herself to his caresses, permitting herself to be led in turn to where El Habibi was now busily mounting the dark haired girl from behind, huge buttocks clenching and unclenching as he buried himself inside her.

Krycek felt as though he might throw up, watching Habibi rut into the young girl. He cut his eyes to Marita, mouthing "Go,' - as though he needed to give her any encouragement. He sank to his knees behind Günter, running a hand over his back and thighs. He looked at Habibi, seeing Marita stepping back only to be caught from behind and made to kneel by a stone faced guard.

Krycek's breath caught as Günter leaned back to kiss him, and he ran his hands over the perked nipples. Nipping at the youth's neck, he looked at last to El Habibi, and the miserable girl below him.

"Come, Alex, choose. There are all manner of delights for you. Which will you take for your own? The young man is perfection, and the blonde looks as if she would know a million ways to inflame a man's heart. Let me see you exert your skills on one or other of these beauties." Habibi was grunting now, his body jerking in short, punching motions as he drew close to orgasm. Alex watched as he emptied himself into the girl's body, and withdrew, wiping his spent cock on one of the silken pillows beside him. Alex looked from Marita to Günter, knowing that whomever he chose, Habibi would surely take the other. He instinctively went for Marita... she was his friend, and so delicate, fragile. Habibi would split her in two.

As he was about let Günter go, the youth caught his eyes. There was need there, and something more. Something that spoke to him through time...

The big man coming closer, closer. Alex is crouching in the corner, shaking. He has no knife; no one is around to help him. The man draws closer, ever closer...

My God, he's...

Turning back to Günter, Alex watched as Habibi leered in Marita's direction.

Marita moving under him, moaning softly

Krycek bit his lip at a sudden image of Habibi taking her, reaching out toward her again as Günter, trying one more time, licked his lips at Alex.

His reaction was swift, unmistakable. Krycek pressed Günter's shoulders, forcing him to kneel, chest on the floor. "Insolent boy," he spat as he positioned himself behind him, his stomach turning as he rammed himself home. The bile rose in his throat as he pounded his way to oblivion. He had to stop, but he couldn't bring himself to as his body, seemingly of its own accord, sped up its thrusts.

He saw the scene as if from above - himself, the boy, Marita, the girl, and Habibi. He gave a low moan as he thrust into Günter, hoping Habibi would take the girl again, not Marita, and...

Alex... you're hurting him. Giving back what was done to you. Good, good! Use your anger, feel it.

With a whimper, he pulled out of Günter, rushing to Marita, who put an arm around him as he knelt, bowing submissively, knowing he deserved whatever they might give him. Marita looked at him, concerned.

Alex looked up at El Habibi, and this time he didn't manage to conceal his hatred and anger.

He quickly looked down again, schooling his features into submission, but he knew Habibi had to have seen his insolence.

"Come here." The command was loud in the quiet room, and Alex knew for whom the command was intended. El Habibi snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor at his feet, indicating that Alex should take his place there. "I offer you the best in my palace, and you spurn my hospitality. You insult me, Alex." The fat man licked his lips in excitement. He had known that sooner or later this moment would arrive. "Go!" he said to the three that were crouched around, goggle eyed at the situation. "Leave us." El Habibi rose to his feet, stepping with great delicacy for one so gross, and placed a foot firmly against Alex's back, forcing him down until he lay groveling on the floor.

"There is only one way to assure myself of your loyalty, my love."

Krycek swallowed. Closing his eyes, he said, "I'm sorry, Master. I do honor you. I do. I just... I'm sorry." When Habibi was unmoved, he started babbling. "You know how you have a feeling for a second and it... you... don't mean things? Please, I'll be good. Please." He reached out for Habibi, stroking his leg softly. "I'll be yours. Just don't cut me. Please. Don't take my balls... don't geld me. I won't be any good for you then. Please, I need... please, Sir. I'll love you..."

He heard the stoking of the fire in the big fireplace and shifting of metal. He trembled.

"I promise to be good..."

The biologist made no comment, merely continued with his preparations. Alex clutched at the back of the man's robe, and his eyes widened. The ring that Marita had slipped on his finger - she had said there was poison. He wailed noisily, checking to see if El Habibi might be noticing his actions, and after he'd ascertained that the man was intent on heating up... instruments of some kind in the fire, he threw himself down onto the cushions so that his back was to his tormentor.

Slipping off the ring, he scanned it. There was a catch at the base, and when pressed, the top flew open to reveal a small pellet of some waxy substance. He knew what it was at once. He felt for one of the silken scarves that the dark haired girl had discarded, and folded it, then carefully took hold of the poison.

Turning back to the man that he knew now he must kill, he crawled to him on his knees.

"Sir, I was good for you. Didn't I give you pleasure?" he said, forcing a whine into his voice. "Let me show you. I can be better than any of those toys." He rolled up the man's robe until the fat genitalia were revealed, and then leaned forward to take the man's penis in his mouth, thinking grimly that this was the last time he would need to do this.

El Habibi permitted the act, smiling down at what he believed to be a thoroughly frightened slave. At Alex's prompting, he spread his thighs to allow Alex to pass his hand between them, the better to stimulate his ass.

Good, thought Alex, and deftly pressed the pellet of poison into the gross man's rectum.

The huge man looked at him, comprehension dawning in his eyes as Krycek moved back. "I won't belong to anyone anymore," he said, watching as surprise and horror overtook his tormentor. Habibi fell, heavily. Luckily he was near the pile of pillows and Krycek was able to position him in such a way that he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He turned, and found himself facing a guard. "The master needs to sleep," he said with authority.

The guard nodded. "He does... like to indulge."

Play the role, Alex told himself. "You're criticizing the Master?"

"No, no, of course not," the guard said.

Alex nodded. "Thought so..." Walking over to the pile of clothing the boy Günter had discarded, he picked them up and put them on. They were a tight fit, but he had to hurry.

He ran to the lab, and gathered Habibi's research papers, and also took a DAT backup of Habibi's computer hard drive that he had prepared in case this were to happen.

Running back towards the great hall, he thought of Dustin. Dustin would be proud of him, he knew - relieved that he hadn't let himself be cut.

He started looking for Marita, when a large man reached out from nowhere. "The Master is dead. You were with him last."

Alex twisted, feigning astonishment. "Dead? He was asleep when I left him."

Days went by, and Dustin was trying his best to discover what had been done to Alex during the strange and savage childhood he had suffered. He had no idea how he would undo the harm that had been inflicted on Alex, but he knew that if it were possible he would discover a way.

He'd watched tapes, hour upon hour of them, and seen how his lover had been brutalized by the men that were around him. He had resolved to ensure that as many of them as possible would reap their reward for what they had done to Alex.

He had seen nothing more of the Smoker, who had left early in the evening of the day he had come to show Dustin the first tape. Dustin didn't know where he had gone, and hoped that he was not with Alex, causing him further pain. In the meantime he'd plunged into learning everything he could. Malia had told him at breakfast that the evil old man was going to return this evening, and he heard the bustle of the man's arrival from his seat in the library.

Spender smiled grimly as he hung up his jacket in his study. He had had a busy day, and now he was looking forward to having some fun... and seeing his new son again. He had become entranced by him, and through all of the meetings he'd attended that day, he's imagined what he might do to the man when he returned home. So like his Alex, yet not like him at all.

Walking into the library, he was somewhat surprised to see Dustin there already. He smiled. "Hello, my boy. How have you been? Is there anything you need or want? Aside from Alex, I mean."

Dustin was reading and looked up as the old man approached. "Good evening, sir. I'm afraid that the one thing I want is Alex. How have you been?" He closed the file he'd been perusing and gazed at the old man. I guess it had to start sometime, he thought. Might as well be now.

He felt a thrill of fear travel through him as he sat, outwardly calm.

Spender crossed to the couch, inviting Dustin to sit beside him. "Come here, my boy. Tell me why you love my son so much, or why you say you do. What do you see in him?"

"I see love, and ferocity, humor and pain in him. I see a man who needs me, and who would fight to protect me. What more could I ever want?" Dustin smiled as he talked about his lover, and for the first time since coming to this house, his face was lit from within with the memory of his short time with Alex.

The old man put his hand on Dustin's shoulder, letting it slide down his arm. "When you see him broken, and crying... will you love him then? When you see him gelded and branded with another's name? He is weak, Dustin... he can't protect you." He leaned in to kiss Dustin. "But I can protect you..." He drew back when he saw that Dustin wasn't impressed. "I can protect Alex, too. Or make sure he suffers... it depends on you."

Shuddering inwardly, Dustin presented the old man with a bland face. He'd spent his professional life negotiating, and he knew that he would need all his skills for this game.

"I'm sure you can. I see how you already have. How precisely does it depend on me?"

Cupping Dustin's face, Spender brought his lips to his once more. "How much respect are you willing to give me... how well you do as I ask. That will determine Alex's experience. Come here, my boy. Let me taste you... feel you."

For a moment, Dustin permitted the kiss, even responded, forcing down the revulsion that he felt. He was about to embark on the journey towards saving Alex, and he must not weaken now. He allowed the old man to sample the sweetness of his mouth, and then drew away.

"Do you like what I have to offer?" He lowered his eyes, waiting for the outburst that he suspected would not be long in coming.

Spender pulled him close again. "Offer? You wish to give it? You know, I usually just take." He snorted. Finding that a part of him did enjoy the idea of Dustin wanting him, desiring to please him was somewhat disconcerting. He quelled the thought by running a hand down over Dustin's shirt, feeling the tautness of the muscles beneath.

"Come here, boy," Spender said gruffly. "Show me how accommodating you can be."

"I believe that this is to be a business deal, sir. You can certainly take, but it would be a hollow victory, and nothing new for you. Wouldn't you like a willing companion? One that would respond wholeheartedly?" Dustin smiled. There was a smile that he'd used for years to attract women to his side. He wondered if it would work just as well on the evil old monster he had set out to charm.

Spender paused, his hand hovering above Dustin's fly. The thought was disturbingly pleasing. He pondered for a moment. "If you give yourself to me... would it be more than business?" He wondered if the boy thought he could control him that way, try to take the upper hand. He pulled back and looked at him. "Do you desire me, Dustin?"

"I could desire you, if you were kind. If you proved that you cared for me. I respond to generosity and kindness, sir." Please, please let this work. Dustin made himself relax his jaw with a wrench of his will, and sat, smiling politely at his nemesis.

"You could desire me if I were kind." Spender chuckled softly. There was something he could hold to, he supposed. He looked at Dustin. "Then you never loved my son, if you would betray him so easily."

"You're wrong, sir. I love him more than anything. For him, to save him, I would be willing. Only for him. Will you give me what I crave?" He licked his lips invitingly, and lowered his lids again, looking at the old man through slitted eyes.

Spender felt his cock twitch as Dustin licked his lips. The man would be his, one way or the other. But he wanted this to be perfect... it could be perfect, if only he played it right. Careful, he told himself. Dustin is sharp, and he's been around the block a few times. "Will you give me what I crave, to ensure that I will do the same to you?"

Dustin flashed him a smile that he hoped would rock him back on his heels. "You know that I could be most grateful. If you guaranteed Alex's safety and well being... " He ducked his head a little, and licked his lips again. "If I knew that you were generous to him, why then I would be as generous to you."

He stood and walked to the window, looking out through the darkened panes to the moonlit grounds. The wind was gusting, and the shadowy trees were blowing restlessly. Alex is somewhere beyond those trees, and please God, may he still be alive.

Spender sighed and stood up, following Dustin to the windows. He put his hands on Dustin's waist. That smile... God.

He put his lips to Dustin's ear. "If you give me what I want, I'll never need to do anything to hurt Alex again." He smiled. If his plan went as he hoped... that would be truer than Dustin knew.

"You mean that you'll stop sending him off to peddle his tail for you to these obscene perverts that he's so afraid of?" Dustin clutched the windowsill as hard as he could to prevent himself screaming. Way to go, Yarma. He's going to say yes, and you're going to have to put out for him. Welcome to hell. At least you'll understand what Alex went through for all these years.

He turned to face the Cancerman, his lips so close to his cheek that he could have licked at the seamed skin. "Please say yes. It would be the most wonderful thing."

"Offer me your allegiance, Dustin, and Alex will be safe. You know what the offer is. Let me be your new Daddy, and Alex will be safe."

Dustin smiled a little sadly. "That sounds good. How will I be sure that Alex is safe?"

Spender moved towards Dustin, slipping an arm around him and pulling him close. "You can call him... talk to him. Like you did a few days ago. How would that be?" He leaned his head, and pressed his crotch against Dustin. "Do we have a deal, then?"

"I will be willing for as long as Alex is safe. If that is acceptable, we have a bargain." Dustin's heart was aching at the thought of what he had just promised, but Alex had to be safe, and there was nobody else willing to save him.

Spender smiled. "Good, good." He ran a hand over Dustin's shirt, smiling as he felt his arousal increase. He would take Alex's pet, make him his own, and then, when Alex returned... the thought brought him fully erect and he brought his hand up to cup the back of Dustin's head, catching his lips in a kiss and pushing him against the wall, grinding against him lustfully. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that... we wouldn't want any harm to come to him, would we?"

Responding to the kiss in a manner that he hoped Spender would take as shy, Dustin thought quickly. Breaking the kiss, he fended Spender off for just a moment. "When can I speak to him? How often?" This would be the defining moment. What would the disgusting old beast say?

Spender caressed Dustin. "How often would you like? If you are a good boy, you may speak to him as often as you wish." In that moment, Spender could have offered him anything. His lust overwhelmed him, as he thought of how he could have a new pet, and torture Alex with him. He would offer Alex's safety and eventual freedom, but Dustin would ensure he remained enslaved. "Tell me, son."

"Please..." Dustin breathed, not caring that his heart was on his sleeve. If I can just talk to him - check that he's okay... I'd be so grateful." The last was said with a slight gleam of humor. Come on, you old goat. Get on with it. Stop making me wait!

Spender took out his phone, mouth on Dustin's ear. "How grateful will you be?: he said, his voice raspy. He began pressing numbers. "Tell me..."

"How grateful would you like me to be?" replied Dustin, his voice sugar and brandy, seductive as he played the old man. "I worry about him. I'll be far more relaxed when I know that he's fine."

In answer, Spender pressed himself against Dustin again, unbuttoning his shirt and playing his hand lightly over the exposed skin. "Give yourself to me. Totally. Completely." He drew back, looking directly into Dustin's hazel eyes, smirking cruelly. "Fuck me, Yarma. Or more precisely, let me fuck you." He chuckled. "Don't tell me you didn't know."

I can do this; for Alex I can do it, Dustin told himself. "I kinda suspected that's what you'd want. Just let me talk to Alex first. Then I'll do whatever you want." Dustin held out his hand for the cellular phone. "I just have to make certain that he's fine."

Spender leaned in close. "All right. My Pet." He emphasized that last, handing Dustin the phone. "Just ask for him, my boy."

Alex sat at the table in Habibi's lab, looking at DNA samples and comparative analyses of what appeared to be mutations of the black oil DNA. He had identified three separate strains for sure. What the hell had Habibi been doing?

The phone rang, and he grabbed it absently. If it was for Habibi, he'd say the man was sleeping. "Hello?"

Taking the phone with trembling fingers, Dustin held it to his ear and asked for Alex. There was a pause, so long that he began to think that his lover had died, or left, or all manner of dreadful things. When finally he heard Alex's voice on the other end he could have burst into joyful tears, but he suppressed the roiling emotion within, knowing that his evening was going to be arduous.

"Alex, love, it's Dustin. How are you?"

"Dustin!" Alex exclaimed, pencil falling from his fingers. "I... I'm good! I'm just..." As his heart rate returned to normal, he realized that he must be with Spender to have gotten a hold of him. Unless the old man had had a Christmas Carol experience, which Alex found unlikely, he would not have given Dustin the number.

"I'm okay love... now. I... I solved the problem. You gave me your strength and took care of that... maybe saved someone, too, I hope." He paused, trying to think of what to say, to cover it in case Spender was listening. "The research is starting to make sense now, and may soon be completed."

He drew in a breath. He didn't care if Spender heard this. "Are you okay, yourself? All I can think of is you..." And his hands all over you, his... no, Alex wouldn't let himself think about that. He couldn't. "Are you all right?"

"God, Alex, I feel wonderful now that I know you're still okay. I haven't been able to sleep for imagining the worst. How long before you can come home? Do you know?" Dustin felt weak at the knees with relief as he spoke to his lover. Sinking into a seat, he ignored Spender as he drank in the voice of his beloved. "I love you so much; miss you so bad it hurts."

"Lover, don't you worry about me. It's nothing I can't handle. It's you I fear for. God, I love you!" He allowed himself to grin. "Do you know how good it is to hear your voice? How good it is to know that you're okay? He isn't... hurting you, is he?" If Spender was hurting Dustin, Alex would get to DC any way he could... not that he wouldn't, anyway, but he wanted to finish up here, and try to get some completed research data. Habibi had trusted him enough to let him help out with the experiments, and he'd learned quite a bit.

"Not yet. I've struck a bit of a bargain with him. I'll be okay; I promise." Dustin closed his eyes, hoping against hope that the words were the deed, and that he was not going to be broken and bleeding by the time his lover returned. "No need to hurry... Just, I miss you so badly."

Krycek stood up. "You... you WHAT?? God, Dustin. No. Say anything but that. He'll - he'll gut you alive, don't you know that? Don't..." He sighed. "What kind of bargain? Lover, if it's for me... I'm free. I'm okay. Don't do it."

"Don't worry, love. I'm fine. You take care of yourself and come back to me. I'll wait right here for you." There was a smile in Dustin's voice, despite the fear that was icing his insides. "Hurry up and come home."

"Dustin." Krycek's voice was firm. "Do not agree to anything he tells you, or believe it. I... once believed him, and you see where it got me. Just... I'll be home as soon as I can, love. Just as soon as I can."

"It will all be okay, baby. Don't worry. I'm old enough to look after myself for a few more days. Once you come home we can be together, and go back to the sun. I want to take you to somewhere warm and lie on the beach with you. I want to swim in that warm sea and watch you beside me. Just hang in." A thought suddenly floated up, all unbidden. "That man - that Habibi? He's treating you well?"

Alex smiled. "That sounds real nice, Dustin. And - like I said, I solved the problem. I would say more but I don't want it on the old man's tapes, you know? But believe me, I'm more than being treated well. And I liberated one who might have been me. I'm happy about that." He smiled at the thought, but more so at the thought of lying on a beach in Malibu with Dustin. "I can smell the suntan lotion already, baby."

Dustin huddled over the phone, aware that the Smoker would want to take it back from him at any time. He felt both exhilarated and afraid as he realized that he would have to start paying for this joy any minute. "Do you know when you'll be able to come back to me, love?"

"I'm not sure. Sooner than you think. How's that?" Alex wanted to leave today, or the next, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to. Sure, the lack of a passport was a small stumbling block. But the bigger one was the palace. He was known to the guards, as was his position there. If he tried to leave... there would be questions. He could slip away, maybe, but how far would he get? "Sooner than you think."

Spender coughed, and looked at Dustin. He was surprised that Alex seemed to have answered the phone himself. Had he somehow charmed El Habibi? He smiled. His son was always the man to get a job done... maybe the research, and the man, would be his sooner than he thought.

Dustin closed his eyes, trying to shut out the person who was there before him, a nightmare made flesh, and one that he would have to face soon enough. "Hurry, love. I can't stop worrying about you. I need you." He looked up guiltily as the old man coughed, willing him to let the connection remain just for one more minute, but not knowing what else to say.

"I... I can't say anything, because it wouldn't mean enough." Alex frowned as he heard the old man cough. He knew that he'd take the phone from Dustin soon, and then he'd be alone... alone, away from his lover, and that old man would be with him. He sucked in a breath. "You stay safe," he said. "You just..." He couldn't say anything more, as images came to him unbidden of Spender raping his love, or tossing him in the dungeon, or brainwashing him. "I'll be home soon."

There was a pause, and an unmistakable click as the phone connection was broken. Dustin thumbed the button to hang up, and sat, the phone resting forgotten on his thigh as he tried to tell himself that it was all right - that Alex was alive and well and would be home with him soon. He shivered. Time to pay the piper, he guessed. He turned to the old man.

"Thank you."

Spender smiled, and walked over to Dustin. "Thank me now," he said, swooping in to claim his prize. He kissed him fiercely. "You are so smooth, so silky soft. You taste so good." Spender allowed himself to think of Alex as he played his hand over Dustin's chest; imagining Alex watching him take Dustin. He smiled. He had a camera set up and ready... he would want to relive this moment, over and over.

This corruption of love... he would turn Dustin against Alex. He thought he knew how to do it now. He led Dustin over to the couch. "Don't worry, Pet. No one will disturb us. Show me how grateful you are." He reclined back on the couch, undoing his fly and stroking himself lightly.

Dustin didn't move. He sat on the couch watching the old man's lewd display with horrified fascination. What would he do? He shivered as he realized that the time had come.

"I... I... Oh fuck." He clenched his teeth, thought of Alex, and the pain he'd gone through. I can do this for Alex, he thought again.

"Come, come, Dustin," Spender said, licking his lips. "I can't wait to see your gratitude. Or would you prefer I make a phone call and see that Alex never comes home?" He smiled. "One little phone call, Dustin."

Nodding, Dustin fell to his knees, his hands reaching out to touch the old man. It was the same as with Mackey. Payment for services rendered. Wasn't this the way that the whole thing had started out? He'd believed that he could have something for nothing, and he'd found that it just wasn't true. Bending forward, he closed his eyes and took the Smoker's penis in his mouth.

Spender put his hand on Dustin's head. "Good... good. Oh..." He leaned back. It seemed that Dustin had learned much from Alex in the short time they had been together. While he wasn't nearly as talented as Alex at this particular pleasure, he wasn't incompetent, either. "Rub your tongue over the vein boy... oh, oh yes. Ah..." He ran his fingers over Dustin's face, over his forehead and eyebrows... down over his cheek. "You will be so good, my boy. Please me so well..."

Be very sure that as soon as Alex is home here with me once more, I will kill you, Spender, Dustin thought. He said nothing, merely redoubling his efforts to satisfy the old man who had charge of his lover's safety. If he was good enough, and fast enough, perhaps this would be all that happened tonight.

Spender relaxed, and then pushed Dustin's head away. He didn't want to come just yet... though the thought of coming into Dustin's mouth was a turn-on. But still - he preferred to wait until he had Dustin actually craving it, wanting to suck him off. He believed he could do it.

Looking at Dustin critically, he said, "Take off your clothes, boy. Slowly."

Dustin stood up slowly, and began to peel off his shirt. He should have known that it wouldn't be that easy. Piece by piece, he dropped his clothing, until he stood naked. He was not erect. He didn't believe that anything would arouse him this evening.

Spender stroked himself as he watched Dustin undress. Seeing that he was not aroused only made Spender smirk. He didn't think that would last very long - but he was sure Dustin would try to keep it that way.

A test of wills, a game! Oh, Spender loved those.

"Come here, Dustin," Spender said, indicating that Dustin should stand directly beside him.

Walking forward to stand beside the Smoker, Dustin felt very vulnerable. There was something degrading about being naked in the presence of a fully dressed man. He thought that Alex must have felt this for day after day as he was growing up, and a fine, unalloyed rage blossomed in his heart. I will kill you, old man, he thought, and smiled.

Spender smiled back at Dustin. "I know you must think me evil," he said. "Many do." He leaned forward, and took Dustin in his mouth, wrapping an arm around Dustin's torso. He squeezed at Dustin's asscheeks as he sucked him, working his penis with his tongue. He created a vacuum, swallowing several times, a move he had never known Alex to resist, even when he tried hard not to become aroused.

A vague stirring somewhere down in his loins had Dustin frowning. He wasn't doing very well and now he feared that the old man would become angry. He mumbled apologies. "I think I'm a little stressed. I don't usually have this trouble." He flashed back to his final days with Darcy. He hadn't been able to get it up then, either. Damn Minnow. If he were here, Dustin would have enjoyed handing Minnow over to his latest conquest.

The Smoker grinned. So the boy wanted to play hardball... that was okay, too. He'd seen how Alex treated Dustin in bed... no problem. He sucked harder, slipping a finger into Dustin's anus, working it up to stroke his prostate. He cupped Dustin's balls with the other hand, massaging them lightly.

Something was waking up down there, and he didn't know whether to be glad or sorry. He felt the familiar prickle of arousal commence inside him, and tried to think of where he was, what was happening. Slowly, the slight tumescence subsided. He whimpered.

"No! It was... I don't know why this is happening to me. Help me."

His cock twitched at the sound of the whimper, so familiar, and Spender looked up at Dustin. "Help you what, my son? You must tell me what it is that you need. You can tell me..." He smiled encouragingly.

"I - I can't get it up. I don't know why, but I can't get it up. I don't know what the problem is. I'm sorry." He hung his head, feigning misery. The touching of that place inside his ass was starting to feel good again, and he hoped that the old man would give up soon, or he'd not be able to stay limp. He gasped as the Smoker continued to stimulate it.

Spender smirked, and continued to rub Dustin's prostate. He took Dustin into his mouth again, sucking harder. Adding another finger to the one already in Dustin's anus, he renewed his assault. "Just relax, boy."

Oh, God, it was happening. It was happening now and he couldn't seem to hold it back. He could feel himself filling up and stiffening as the mouth on his dick finally found the parts that loved to be stroked. He whimpered as the tongue swirled over the head of his dick, and pictured Alex, poised to fuck him senseless.

Spender smiled around Dustin's cock. Got you, he thought. He drew back, to lick the tip, making his tongue pointed to do so. Then he took Dustin's crown in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the rim the way that Alex loved. Making his tongue into a point again, he firmly licked the vein on the underside of his cock.

But he didn't want Dustin to come yet. He wanted ultimate humiliation, as quickly as possible.

He needed this for the project, as well as for his own desires.

He stood up, motioning for Dustin to climb onto the couch. "Get on all fours, boy."

Dustin moved sinuously, his face expressionless as he bent to kneel in the spot that had been indicated. Well, the old boy might have a heart attack or something. He wouldn't bet on it, but it would make a great fantasy as he stuffed himself all unwelcome into Dustin. He knew that Alex had endured this a thousand times. What did Dustin care? Alex was all he wanted. He would win through in the end.

Spender positioned himself behind Dustin, pausing to gloat, knowing this was all being caught in lovely Technicolor. He leaned forward, placing his hands on Dustin's hips. With one swift motion, he drove himself into Dustin, moving one hand to stroke the boy's cock in time to his thrusts. He imagined Alex's face and how he would feel watching him with his lover... then imagined how it would be when Dustin truly craved him.

He leaned forward to hiss in Dustin's ear. "You like power, don't you? I can give you power at the highest levels of government, Dustin. It can all be yours. Power of life and death. All for you, hmm?"

Dustin shook his head, trying to clear it of the fuzzy thoughts that were flashing through it. He bore down on the man's cock, hoping to hasten his orgasm. "All I want," he panted, "All I want is Alex. I don't need power. I just need Alex."

Spender smiled as Dustin squeezed him with his ass, stroking Dustin's cock more firmly. "You would have Alex," he said. "Alex would be with you... anything you wanted, you could have. Power in Hollywood is good, but I could offer you so much more. What can Alex get you? Love?"

"Love is..." Dustin gasped. "It's all I want. Why don't you understand?" He could feel his excitement starting to build. He knew that he was going to come for this creep, and if so then he would enjoy it and damn the man. He writhed a little, trying for a better angle and moaned as the penetration became deeper, harder, sweeter.

Feeling Dustin's body respond, Spender smiled. So like Alex... down to the pre-orgasm flexion. He pressed in harder as his own orgasm neared. Perfect choreography. He leaned in as he and Dustin rode the crest to its inevitable end. He felt Dustin clench, and unless he missed his guess, he knew Dustin was just about to come. Before he did, Spender growled into his ear, "Alex is just a little whore. Nothing more." He felt the onset of his own orgasm, and wrapped his arms around Dustin's torso as he leaned onto him.

For that, you will pay, thought Dustin. You will pay in blood and lost dreams. He bit his lip as he felt the flickering pleasure wash over him. The spasm of Spender's own orgasm suddenly tipped him into his own climax, and he choked as he lost himself. Panting hard, he shot his load into the old man's fist, and thought, "That's one."

Spender collapsed after coming fiercely with a triumphant crow. He couldn't wait to see how Alex reacted to seeing his lover come after hearing him called a whore. He couldn't have planned it better if he'd tried any harder.

With a gleeful smile, he pulled Dustin's body against his. "You were so good, Dustin. I'd say you were grateful indeed." He leaned in for a kiss. "So good."

Dustin grinned at him, suddenly all hard edges and arrogance. "I always keep my word. I guess that this makes me a whore too, just like Alex." He disengaged himself and stretched his cramped body.

Spender moved his hand over Dustin lingeringly. "No, you're not a whore, Dustin. You're my pet, and special. You gave yourself to me. Alex is given to others by me. It's different..." Normally he wouldn't have said this, but he was feeling the afterglow, and smiled lazily. "You're special, Dustin."

"Special just doesn't begin to describe what I am. So when do I get to learn the good stuff? When do I get to experience this power of yours?" He sat down on the edge of the couch and began pulling on his jeans. He would take what he could from this relationship, and when the time came, Alex would be free. Spender reached out to stop Dustin from putting his clothes back on. "Oh... you're arrogant, too. I forgot that." He leaned in. "He expects to be a pampered pet. I can do that for you." He kissed him softly on the lips. "Dustin, Dustin. I have meetings to attend tomorrow that you'll want to attend too. But tonight, how about more films? You once asked how Alex could act so childishly, I believe."

Paydirt! Already, the old bastard was going to show him what he needed to know. A thrill went through him. "Yes, sir. I would very much like to know what you did to cause that. I don't think that Alex is naturally childish. You had to have done something extremely bad to him to make him behave that way."

Spender smiled. "You like that kind of power, Poppet? I could give you that." He stood up. "I could even show you first-hand," he mused. "But you're my pet and you wish to see the videos. Very well. I'll spoil you." He headed to the other side of the library to fetch them. "Don't get dressed now," he smirked. "I love the way you look."

He returned with a stack of videos. "Now, Dustin. Here is the first one... what you can't see is that we gave Alex LSD. Large doses. It began when he was, oh, ten or eleven here. We had to indoctrinate him early with some of this."

Alex was backed up against the wall of the lab, sitting in the corner. He held Günter to his side with one arm, and brandished a knife with the other.

Smiling fiercely, he spat, "No. He's mine now. Mine to save. You can't take him. I won't let you."

Marita had been trying to explain to him that Habibi was still alive. Impossibly the poison had failed; whether because his bulk required a bigger dosage, or because the poison was faulty, she didn't know. She was urging Alex to hand Gunter to her, promising she would take Günter to safety if only he would deal with Habibi, who was angry as the proverbial hippo with a hernia and declaring only his favorite slave could cheer him up. Marita spoke softly. "Alex, it's me. Marita. If you hand Günter to me, I can help you save him."

Alex whimpered, still brandishing the knife. Günter looked from Marita to Alex, a mite confused, but willing to trust the man who seemed to care for him. No one else had...

Still, Alex was hurting him a bit by holding him too tightly. "Um, Alex?" he said, noticing for the first time the haunted look in the other man's eyes.

Suddenly, Alex seemed to come back to himself. Loosening his grip on Günter, he put the knife down. "I'm... I'm sorry," he said to both of them.

Marita breathed a sigh of relief as Alex snapped out of his fugue. "It's all right, Alex. Did you hear a word of what I just said?"

Alex blinked. "No, not... no. I'm sorry." He blinked, still a little dazed.

"It's okay. I'll repeat it. Habibi isn't dead, and he wants to see you. I'll take Günter to safety. You, go calm the man. If anyone can charm him, it's you."

"Not... dead?" Alex repeated. "How...?"

"Never mind that," Marita said. "I'll try to figure it out. Right now, the important thing is ensuring your safety... and the future of the project, as well."

Alex leaned his head back. "The project, the project. Why is it always the project?"

Marita sighed. "It isn't... not always. It's peripheral now... but you need to keep your mind occupied. You can't brood and make him happy too. And you know what will happen if you don't."

"Right." He shot her a glare, but stood up. "If it makes him happy..."

"Alex, that's not fair," Marita said. "I'm in this as deeply as you are."

"Yeah, I know." Without a further word, he left to head for his chambers, to prepare.

The glimmer of an idea formed in his mind as he made his way through the palace. Arriving in the room that Habibi had assigned him, as his favorite, he made himself up with oil and the hated bejeweled garments Habibi had given him. Slipping on the golden collar, he thought how good that it might look on Dustin. Now, where had that thought come from?

He studied himself in the mirror, dusting himself with the bronze talc and moistening his hair a little. When he looked as good as he figured he ever would, he lowered his eyes and held them there a few moments.

Now or never.

He went down to the throne room, walked up to where Habibi sat, and knelt, awaiting permission to speak. He had his story ready, if Habibi would let him tell it.

The man sat, stone faced and aloof. He had abandoned the cushions and rugs for the more imposing chair that stood at the end of the room on its raised dais. With one hand he fondled a scimitar that had an ornate handle, upon which were verses from the Koran, inlayed in gold.

"A death has been called for, Alex, my pet. Allah smiles, and it is not my death, but yours that awaits. What have you to say?"

"I wasn't trying to kill you, Master. I only wished you to take a nap; that I might make myself ready, and show you what a good Pet I can be... how well I can please. Surely you would like that? I want to repay you for your many kindnesses."

Alex kissed the hand that held the scimitar, playing his fingers on the hem of Habibi's robe. "If you would kill me before I can prove my devotion, so be it. But then you'll never know." He had slid his hand under the robes by this time, and was now expertly stroking the man's cock, licking his lips lasciviously. "I can't wait to show you."

His knife lay in a pocket of the overwrap he wore, ready in case Habibi didn't believe him.

"Grovel before me!" The words were sharp and El Habibi moved suddenly, standing to kick Alex back off the dais. "What right do you have to assume that I will always favor you, just because you are beautiful? You go to far."

Alex fell backwards, but quickly recovered, to kneel at Habibi's feet. He kissed them, and then knelt still, hitching his robe up around his hips, exposing his nakedness underneath, offering himself.

"Use me, Master. I give myself to you, most humbly. I offer my pathetic body to you. Please, use it for your pleasure as you will." Just don't cut it, he thought. Anything but that...

The large man took his scimitar in his hand and raised it, bringing the flat of it down onto Alex's buttocks with a loud smacking sound. Tossing the sword aside to lie forgotten on the polished tile, he unfastened the belt that he wore and applied it to Alex's exposed behind.

"I will use you. You grow too full of yourself, Alex. You need to learn humility."

Yes, Master." The sting of sword and belt were savage and cruel, but he had suffered worse and could handle it. He bit his lip and thought of Dustin, of Günter, of Marita. For all of them, he could handle it.

"Please, please. Make me humble so that I might know the privilege of serving at your feet." He spread his knees slightly, even as he yearned to snap a reply and slay the man where he stood.

But he couldn't. Not yet.

The biologist studied the criss-crossing welts that he had made on Alex's back, and nodded. Alex was humble. Possibly he had misjudged the man. He was such a beautiful catamite that it seemed he could almost forgive him anything. He seized Alex's hair and pulled the man up to stand beside him. "You are breathtaking. I believe that I could drown in your eyes, my faithless one." He enveloped Alex in a kiss. Alex kissed the foul man in return, barely stifling a retch as his mouth was invaded by that fat, spicy tongue. Whatever the man ate, it made his kissing him an unpleasant proposition under the best of circumstances. He wrapped an arm around his master.

The man's words danced in Alex's brain, caressing parts of it into wakefulness. "So, I'm still your pretty boy?" he asked, fluttering his lashes appealingly. "I can be, you know." He reached inside the big man's robes. "Please, Master, let me please you?"

"Very well then. Please me enough, and I won't kill you today. You are fortunate, Alex. You are beloved of Allah. Were you not, you would lie headless before me now." This time, El Habibi permitted Alex's questing fingers to find and stroke his aroused manhood, and his hand on Alex's shoulder pressed him down to kneel before him.

Alex fell to his knees obediently. "Yes, Master. Thank you. It is a privilege to service you." He reverently opened Habibi's robes, part of his mind thinking, 'and it will be a privilege to kill you, as well.' Another part of his mind, the part that was Alexei, told him to stop it, and be a good boy, do his work, and maybe Daddy would love him then.

He closed his eyes, and applied his mouth to the organ that gleamed red in front of him.

He was so intent on his task that he didn't at first notice the commotion that had begun around him.

Marita looked at Günter. "Okay. Take that box of papers Alex had there; I've got this one, and the samples. Grab that briefcase, too, will you?"

Günter nodded. His life was to please, and while these people said they would free him, he didn't understand what that implied. "Okay." He did as she asked, and smiled.

"All right, let's go." She was still beating herself up over her comment to Alex about the project. Maybe they should have just left, but they needed the research, and Spender would surely kill Alex if he failed.

She and Günter headed out of the lab.

They were almost free of the palace when a guard laid a heavy hand on Marita's shoulder.

"Pardon, but your presence is requested in the main audience room." The gun that the guard was wielding was large, and Günter whimpered at her side.

Marita glowered at the guard. "Who sent you? We were requested by Habibi to convey some documents to the Southern operation."

"You will come with me now." The guard pulled her around roughly, and when she jerked her hand away from him, he hit her with the butt of his gun. Günter looked on, cowering.

Marita felt her consciousness fading though she fought to stay alert. Her balance slipped, and she looked at Günter as her vision dimmed. What would happen to him now? Alex had trusted her... she remembered how he had trusted her once before, with D'mitri. Fighting the gray haze that was even now taking over her brain, she looked to Günter. "Run... "

She slumped to the ground, limp and apparently lifeless.

Günter stood frozen for a minute. Then he turned and took to his heels. The guard raised his rifle, and without a pause, shot the fleeing boy in the head.

Alexei could feel it was coming. He redoubled his efforts as he felt Habibi thrusting himself down his throat, nearly choking him as he did so. But Alexei was a good boy, a pretty boy. He wouldn't complain. He'd do as he was told, and then he could rest. Alex tasted the first few drops of precum, forcing himself not to spit. "How do you like it, Master?"

El Habibi was well on his way to orgasm, and groaned as Alex pulled back to speak. He groped for Alex's hair, pulling him back to his task.

Alex took Habibi's huge cock in his hand,, licking along the ridge, pressing his tongue on it hard, as he opened his mouth wider to take him deep. Forming a vacuum, he forced himself to swallow three times in rapid succession. Now, he thought. If Allah indeed loves me, he will hasten this...

The huge man cried out and tensed, pumping into Alex's mouth as he sucked industriously. There was not much ejaculate - he had already emptied himself earlier. Collapsing down to his knees beside Alex, he threw his arms around him.

"Now, Allah be praised, my Alex. I love you best of all."

"Praise be to Allah," Alex replied, leaning his head on the big man's shoulder. "I love you, too. You've given me so much. How could I ever harm you? You protect me from myself, from my own darker impulses. I see that now." Now, Allah, if you love me... he thought.

The commotion from the entrance to the hallway made them both look up. A guard stood nervously at the door.

"Pray forgive the intrusion, effendi," he said. "You are betrayed."

Alex stared at the guard. He seemed to be carrying two bodies with him, which he casually tossed inside the door. Marita lay limp, and what was left of Günter's head was awash in blood... He stiffened. His only friend was dead, and Günter...

It's all your fault, boy. You shouldn't have run.

"No..."

Yes, boy. You had such good friends. Why did you kill them?

"I didn't..."

Who else, boy? No one else did it. It must have been you."

"It wasn't me!" Alexei whimpered.

Of course it was.

Eyes suddenly blazing, Alex reached into his robe, cat-quick. The guard, the guard... said part of his brain. He wasn't listening, though. As his vision dimmed, he had only one intent. Grabbing his knife, so much smaller than Habibi's scimitar, he drew it across Habibi's throat, efficiently slicing through carotid and larynx at once. Daddy taught me well, he thought grimly.

Pushing Habibi away from him, he ran to the guard, who had raised his rifle. He dodged and rolled as he saw the man pull the trigger, the bullet just missing him. Coming to rest at the man's feet, he tackled him to the ground, Sascha's rage full now. He grabbed the rifle out of the man's hands, and hacked and slashed at the guard until he was sure he was dead. There was no finesse, only rage and the overkill of the psychopath or passion killer. Krycek had become both now, and he wailed as he stabbed the man repeatedly.

When he was done, and had regained some semblance of composure, he walked over to where Günter and Marita lay.

There was no hope for Günter. And Marita...

He heard footsteps, and knew he had to get out of there. He took her hand. "Goodbye, my sweet friend," he said, kissing the back of it. Then he stood up and slipped into the hall, heading for his room, and his street clothes.

The tears threatened, but Alex could be very pragmatic when he had to be.

Back in the lab, Alex clung grimly to the gun he had stolen while he used the computer to back up data and burn a couple of CDs with the information that the Smoker coveted so much. Slipping them into his pocket, he left the lab. When a guard came into sight, Alex shot him. He felt driven. He had to leave this place. He couldn't have said why, but he was desperate to be gone.

Alex ran down the halls, shooting anyone and everyone on sight. A part of his mind screamed at him, but he couldn't stop. Driven on by his urgency, he finally ran out of a side door, and felt like he could breathe again.

Grieve later...

Jumping into one of the Land Rovers Alex hotwired it efficiently, and drove to the post office. Quickly addressing CDs, he mailed them back to DC, then he headed for the airport, to send himself flying in their wake.

Scanning the departure monitors, he found an El Al flight that left in an hour. If he hurried... He ran to the check-in desk for a ticket. He needed to act calmly, and draw as little attention to himself as possible.

The reservation agent took his credit card, beginning to print out the ticket, and then requested his passport. He should have spent a little time looking for papers to assist his exit from the country, but his head was pounding, and he just wanted to escape from everything. His own thoughts bellowed inside his head.

When the heavy hand fell on his shoulder, his first instinct was to fight.

The days had passed slowly for Dustin. He wondered at times if there was anything left of the Dustin Yarma that had commissioned Alex Krycek to take out Minnow for him before the man stole his life away completely.

Alex himself had started the remolding of Dustin's persona, and he had found that scary, exciting, and erotic. His heart had been well and truly captured by the man who looked so like him, and from there it had begun to get out of control.

The predicament in which he'd found himself was no longer as terrifying as he had believed it would become. The Smoker had treated him reasonably well so far. He'd begun to feel hopeful that he would get out of this with a whole skin.

He'd spent his days watching the tapes of Alex as they poked and pried at his psyche, shaping it into something that would never have been. Alex had four personas that he had spotted so far. The Smoker had gloated as he confirmed Dustin's observations. There were indeed four parts to Alex's personality, and they were all called forth by various triggers. The child, Alyosha was a pathetic waif. He would surface when Alex was in desperate straits, and beg pathetically for his father, his mother, and for safety that never came. The boy Alexei was somewhat older. He could recall the terror of the Gulag and the starvation and torture to which he had been subjected.

Alex, the man, was his daily personality, and this was the one with whom Dustin had fallen in love. He was both arrogant and tender, loving and cruel. Dustin prayed that one day he would have him back. There was another face that he had seen on film; one that he prayed he would never face in person. That was Sascha, the psychopathic killer. Emotionless, pitiless, Sascha could be called out of concealment by the simple speaking of a phrase.

It had taken a little time for this concept to become real to Dustin. The sheer wickedness of the process that had been perpetrated on his lover made him angrier than he could bear. He asked his mentor very politely what had become of the doctor that showed up on all of the videos, goading, shaping, never permitting Alex to rest.

Spender stroked Dustin's cheek. "He is an old man now... weak and senile. He barely remembers his own name, though I do go visit him occasionally. Tell me, my Pet, what intrigues you?"

Spender fondled Dustin's chest as he waited for a reply. He felt sure that Dustin wanted to kill the old man, and he would stand by and let it happen, if that was what his Pet wanted.

He had taken Dustin to several Syndicate meetings by now, and had grown quite attached to him. He was so sharp, and such an eager pupil. He couldn't wait till the day he used him to hurt Alex. A finely honed instrument, indeed!

"I want to reward him. He deserves something a little special, wouldn't you say?" Dustin's eyelids fluttered in the telltale gesture that showed he hated this doctor. "Why didn't he wait for me? Why did he become feeble?" Dustin's brow furrowed in frustration. He felt full of fury, as though his skin would split if he didn't relieve it. His mind turned to the man who had been at the meeting that afternoon. He'd recognized him from a tape of the young Alexei. The doctor could wait. He would slake his rage on a closer target. Lowering his lashes flirtatiously, Dustin permitted the old man his caresses, and thought of bursting in on that man to reap vengeance.

Seeing the fire in Dustin's eyes inflamed Spender. He felt his cock grow hard as he continued to stroke Dustin's chest, leaning in to kiss his lips, his neck. He ran his hands up under Dustin's shirt. "Tell me, Dustin. Who is it? Who do you want to kill?" The anger in his Pet, so deceptively sweet and mild-mannered, was maddeningly arousing to Spender. He pushed and pulled Dustin into position on the couch, pressing himself against Dustin through his fine linen trousers.

"Come on, Boy. Tell me all about it... all about your darkest desires. I can make them come true for you, you know." He reached for Dustin's fly.

"You believe that I want to kill?" Dustin looked back in surprise at the old man's perspicacity. "I do. I will." His fingers curled into claws, ripping the fabric of a cushion upon which his hands were resting. "There was a Frenchman at today's meeting?" The old man was predictable. He fucked Dustin busily, and Dustin, thoughts aflame with the desire to take the Frenchman apart, barely noticed.

"Tell me, Pet." Spender grunted as he thrust himself in and out of Dustin. "What did he do, my love? Why do you hate him so?" He smiled, knowing who Dustin meant. He had helped with Alexei, helped in his training... but sometimes wanted more than Alexei cared to give. Still, that had nothing to do with it, did it? Alexei needed to learn control and restraint.

He hissed as he felt his balls tighten slightly. "He hurt your Alexei, didn't he?"

"Can I have him?" Dustin ignored the question. Let the old man suspect. He wouldn't confirm it. "I dislike his moustache." He bore down on the penis within him, trying to hasten the orgasm he sensed was close.

Spender smiled. Dustin was a slick one. He thrust into Dustin again as the younger man bore down on him. "Of course you can have him, Poppet. I do so love to see you in action. Yes..." As Dustin continued to bear down, he increased his speed, his ass cheeks clenching and unclenching as he grunted ferally, fucking Dustin roughly until he reached orgasm, emptying himself into Dustin and falling onto him with a shudder as he imagined how he would give the man to his Pet.

"It will be so nice," he said.

Dustin stood to clean himself, happy that the old man had come quickly. His orgasm still hovered, and he would save it for the moment that he cut the throat of the bastard that had tormented Alex. He remained naked, half hard at the thought of vengeance for his lover.

"When? Where? Now?" His voice was all smoky menace as he thought of his knife.

Spender looked at Dustin, stroking a hand lightly over his cock. "Hmm... no time like the present, pretty baby. I do so love to see you in action." Sitting up, he began to lick at Dustin's cock, smiling. "Do you love me, Dustin? Love me for what I can give you?"

He knew Dustin loved Alex. But he needed him to love him too... if only a little.

It would be a start.

"He thinks you're Alexei. Let me call him and arrange a ... meeting." He leaned back, leaving Dustin hard. "You're so beautiful," he said.

"So is Alex," retorted Dustin. "Why don't you seek his favors the way that you seek mine?" Dustin reached for the Smoker's cell phone and passed it over, smiling as the thought of killing this other ran through his mind. The killing of Pyotor had set him free, he thought to himself. He had never realized just quite how good it would feel to rid the world of scum such as Pyotor had been.

Spender smiled. "Alex always favored me... he was so easy. I never had to work for it."

He took the phone and dialed the number of the psychologist Dustin was after, smiling cruelly.

This was a heady thing.

"Jean-Paul? ... Yes. I thought the meeting went well, too. ... What? Oh! I have someone here who wishes to see you. I think you'll want to see him, too." He smiled to Dustin. "Alexei... I'll put him on."

Spender handed the phone to Dustin, nodding and mouthing, "Go with it."

"H - hello," said Dustin, a little unsure. "I wanted to come by and renew our acquaintance. It's so long since I've seen you." He paused, waiting for the other man, knowing that whether he said yes or no, by morning he would be dead.

Jean-Paul smiled on the other end of the line. He knew part of Alexei hated him, but he was programmed to please at a word. Apparently it was still so.

"Alexei, my boy. I happen to have the afternoon free. Would you like to come by in, say, an hour or so? We could play a game, you and I."

He reached down to stroke himself through his trousers at the thought. He'd been hard since he heard what he believed was Alexei's voice.

Dustin was dressing himself efficiently, pulling on the jeans and the silk shirt that he had been wearing. Swiftly, he raced back to his room to fetch the knife that was so much more than just a knife to him. Tucking his talisman into his jeans, he headed off to call on the Frenchman. This was something that Alex would approve of, he thought as he went.

Arriving at the room the Smoker had told him held the Frenchman, he knocked tentatively.

John-Paul opened the door, smiling broadly. He always enjoyed seeing Alexei.

"How nice to see you, my pretty one," he said.

Stepping back to invite him in, John-Paul slipped an arm around Dustin's shoulders, dropping it to linger on the small of his back.

"Come in, come in!"

Dustin stepped into the room, looking around him curiously. This was luxury of the first kind. He ambled in to the living area and sat down on the leather ottoman without waiting for an invitation. "Long time, no see, Jean-Paul,' he said, his voice a silken purr.

Jean-Paul walked over to the bar. "Would you like a drink?" His cock strained painfully at the sound of that voice, so familiar.

He poured a drink and walked back to the chair, offering it to Dustin.

"Alexei..." he stroked his face crudely, turning it in his hands without so much as a "by your leave." He stooped to kiss his lips, his cheek.

This was the man he had helped to shape. All anger and pain, but submissive at a word. He thrust his groin toward Dustin's face, expectantly.

Dustin raised his face to meet Jean-Paul's eyes, a smile lighting his features.

"Are you pleased to see me?" he grinned, his eyes flicking to take in the bulge in the man's trousers. "You always were, weren't you? Maybe I'll think up a cure for that."

Jean-Paul caressed Dustin's hair. "Alexei, you were always such a good boy... the prettiest boy of them all. So special."

At Alexei's words and voice, and gaze - that gaze! - Jean-Paul's cock became fully erect, and he passed a hand down the front of Dustin's shirt. He kept going till he reached his fly. "I'm sure we can think of... something. Be a good boy now. Be good for your Daddy."

The psychologist was salivating now, practically drooling. It had been awhile since Spender had given him leave with Alexei, and he had jumped at the chance.

"I'll be better than that," murmured Dustin, standing up to crowd the other man. "I'll be the best thing you ever had."

In his hand, he held the knife that Alex had given to him. He didn't permit the older man to see it just yet, but he wondered how long it would be before he saw fear enter the eyes that were undressing him so lustfully.

Jean-Paul frowned. That wasn't Alexei's programmed response... not that the boy couldn't say something else, but the fact was that he wouldn't. Not unless something had gone very wrong with his programming.

Was that why Spender had allowed him to see Alexei? But if so, then why hadn't he told him?

Sensing the need for delicacy, Jean-Paul sat down on the couch, inviting Alexei to do the same. His cock was so hard though... so hard. A man couldn't think in the presence of such a vision, and before he quite knew what he was doing, he was following the old script: "Take off your clothes, now, Alexei."

"I don't think so, Jean-Paul. I believe that I'll keep them on if it's all the same to you." Dustin was laughing now, the joy in this man's imminent realization that all was not as it should be alive in the curve of his lip and his sparkling eyes. He put a hand up to take hold of the older man's shirtfront, and pulled him close.

"I think that something has gone terribly wrong. Don't you?" he breathed.

"Alexei --" Jean-Paul said, trying to loosen the grip he had on his shirt. "Alexei. Come now," he cajoled. "Be good, or your Daddy will punish you."

Seeing that his words had no effect, the psychiatrist took Dustin's shoulders in his hands, trying to get him to sit down. "You're not yourself, Alexei. Sit down, and let me help you. Alexei?"

What was going on here? Alexei was never so resistant? Never.

He was tightly controlled, programmed so well. Had something happened to undo his careful work? Apparently it had. There was a dangerous gleam in Alexei's eyes.

Sascha.

What the --

"Sascha?" Jean-Paul asked, fear in his voice.

Had Spender set this up? It would be like him to do so, he decided. But he'd done nothing against the project, spoken to no one. Still, it seemed his fate was sealed, unless he could somehow prevent it.

"Why, Alexei?" he asked fearfully as he got up, backing towards the door. "I know you're in there somewhere. Was I not always good to you? Alyosha, Alyosha. Did I not always care for you, and give you candy? You wouldn't hurt me, would you, Alyosha?"

"My name is Dustin, and there are more things to my life than candy, old man." Dustin twisted the man's shirt around his hand, ensuring that the man would not be able to back away from him, now that he could see that he was in trouble. His right hand brought up the knife to show the now terrified psychiatrist. "I like things with a bite to them, if you know what I mean?"

Jean-Paul tried to twist away, but the man's grip was firm. Dustin? What does he mean; his name is Dustin?

Was there another psychiatrist involved, creating more personalities? Ones he didn't know about? The thought was frightening.

"Your name is Alexei," he tried firmly. "Or Alex, now. Alex Krycek. You work for one of the most important men in the world, and he protects you. You are kept safe from harm by men at the top."

None of that was working! What was this?

"Be good! Be good for your Daddy!" he practically shouted.

When the response was a low laugh that made him shiver, Jean Paul had to consider that maybe, just maybe this was someone else. But there was no twin that he knew of. It was impossible.

Then he saw the knife. Sascha's knife.

"What are you doing with Sascha's knife?"

Sascha would die with that knife in his hand, he'd once told him during a session.

Had there been more to the Krycek project? A part he didn't know about? Was there a twin, called Dustin, and had he gone amok, killing Alex? How else would he have gotten that knife?

But Spender had set this up.

"Where did you get Sascha's knife?" he repeated.

"It's my knife. Alex gave it to me. He wouldn't give me something that wasn't his." Dustin was still grinning. Leaning forward, he kissed the astonished man's nose. "He didn't think that I would ever use it. He's going to be so amazed when he gets back."

All that Dr. LaPierre could manage was, "Alex gave you his knife? Where is he?" He tried to retain the calm, soothing voice of the therapist, but wasn't sure he was doing it.

When Dustin kissed him, he drew back. He didn't like the look in his eyes. It frankly terrified him. "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"I told you. I'm Dustin." He grinned tightly, growing tired of the game. "I'm the last thing you'll ever see. You deserve to go to hell for what you did to Alex. I'm the one who's going to send you there."

As the man shrank away from him, Dustin loomed over him and thrust the knife up into his throat. Jumping back rapidly, he wiped his knife on the rug, and sauntered out of the room.

Pain. A lot of pain. Sharp pain. Talk about a pain in the neck... these things flashed through LaPierre's mind as he slumped and fell heavily to the carpet. Dustin had made a clean, surgical slice to his carotid, jugular, and larynx, and he lay still, bleeding out on the floor.

Seeing Dustin approach the car, CSM looked up. The boy was practically prancing. And not a drop of blood on him... how did he learn to do that? He opened the door, waiting for Dustin to get in.

Dustin's brain was buzzing. He wanted to run and yell and scream. Instead, he climbed into the car and turned to the Smoker.

"Take me home? I'm feeling a little strange."

Spender smiled. "I'll take you home. You did well, my boy. Not even a splatter of blood! Where did you learn that?"

He looked down at Dustin's crotch. Alex sometimes came from the thrill of killing... would Dustin?

He had received a phone call from Tunis while Dustin was with LaPierre, but he wanted to delight in the glow from Dustin for a while first.

Then he'd make a new glow. Of anger, he knew.

Starting the car, he whisked them away and towards the house.

The prisoners in cell 14 had been acting up again. It was all the fault of that infidel scum that had been brought in pending a murder trial and subsequent execution. Ahmet knew that there would be no reprieve for the man. The bribe money had already been paid, and he would be executed soon enough. Until that time, however, he, Ahmet was responsible for his incarceration, and he was not a happy camper. Now, he strode down to the offending cell, listening to yet more howls of pain. What had the son of a dog done now? Ahmet asked himself.

Alex shivered. He was cold, and hungry. The guards had stripped him, taken his arm, given him a shower, and some ratty clothes, and tossed him here in this cell with several men, only one of whom spoke English.

Of course they had fallen on him when he was thrust inside. What could a pretty boy like him expect, after all? Snarling, he punched the third man who had tried to rape him in as many hours. He pounded the man, slamming his head against the bars of the cell even as some of the other prisoners tried to stop him.

But he couldn't stop. If he did, he'd remember Günter, and Marita. And if he got to thinking that way, who knew what would happen?

As Ahmet approached the bars, the others fell back, leaving only Alex with his hapless victim still clenched beneath his arm.

"Son of a whore, why are you disturbing the smooth running of my jail? Do you require persuasion before you are silent?" Ahmet rattled the bars of the cage with his nightstick.

Alex glared back at the man. "He tried to rape me. I'm not going to tolerate that."

"It is in the hands of Allah. Be at peace or I will bring you to the peace of my right arm." Ahmet stood eyeing Alex up, trying to decide whether or not he should just kill him now and blame the prisoners for his death.

Alex breathed heavily, biting his lip to keep from telling this man where to stick his Allah... and his hands. "Yeah," he said darkly. "I suppose it is. So if I squash the brains of the next man who tries it, then that will be in the hands of Allah, too?"

Ahmet had been having a bad day. With a curse, he lashed out at Alex, catching him a heavy blow on his left shoulder. Turning with an oath, he stumped off down the passageway. The prisoners would all be far more docile after a day without food and water. He could wait. Meanwhile, there was the bribe money to split up.

Alex slammed the head of the man in his grip against the bars of the cell one last time, then dropped him, unconscious, to the floor of the cell. Breathing heavily, he turned and glared at the rest of the prisoners, daring them with his eyes to try anything.

Time passed. The heat of the day dissipated very suddenly with the coming of night. From blistering heat, all of a sudden it was bitingly cold as the thin air of the desert sucked all the warmth from the land. The other prisoners who were in the cell with Alex had gathered together in a group and were watching him as he rubbed his badly bruised shoulder.

Alex glared at the group of men, then decided to try to get as comfortable as he could. He was cold, and tired. Lying down on a crude pallet, he took a thin blanket and wrapped it around himself. He lay down, waiting for it to start.

He would feign sleep, dispatch one or two that came for him, and hope the others would learn that he was no one to be trifled with.

A sudden image of Dustin floated to his consciousness, and he wondered what his love was doing at that moment. Dustin... I love you. Hang in there, baby. Some how, some way, I'll get out of here.

Spender looked at the table Malia had prepared. Greta stood beside him. On the table was a lobster dinner - whole lobsters for both Spender and Dustin, boiled by his cook to perfection, presented nicely with all the trimmings. He hoped his Pet would be pleased. He had gone to some trouble, after all.

He considered his next move. How best to tell the boy? Butter him up first, he decided. Make him feel good. He saw cravings for love in Dustin and, especially on his tapes of him with Alex, for approval.

He could work with that.

Still standing, he turned to Greta. "Go fetch Dustin for dinner, will you?"

He coughed once, lightly, and took a sip of water.

Greta went off towards Dustin's room. Knocking lightly, she said, "He's got a nice dinner waiting for you downstairs. He'll be so disappointed if you were late, or missed it... come."

Dustin had been reading the information that the Smoker had to hand on the brainwashing programs that had been implemented in the US since the fifties, and he had come to the conclusion that he needed to get a hypnotherapist for Alex, if he were to be cured of the things that had been done to him. When Greta summoned him, he frowned. He really wasn't hungry, and this woman was a thorn in his flesh. He hated her, both for the things she had done to Alex, and for herself.

"I'll be down in a minute. He'll be fine."

Greta remained standing in the doorway. "He requested that you come now. The food's getting cold. It looks delicious. Your reading can wait."

She paused, and then added, "Pet."

Dustin stared at her with cold, killing eyes as he waited for her to leave as he'd requested.

When she didn't, he leaned forward with a glare that was utterly unmistakable. "Get out of my room, or die." He returned to the book, and read to the end of his chapter, not even looking to see if she'd obeyed him.

Greta smirked, standing in the doorway. All right, one more chapter, she thought. Just like Alex when she had called him to table. So much like Alex! He really was fascinating to watch.

She retreated, barely out of sight, waiting.

Once he'd finished his page, Dustin folded the corner down and arose, leaving his room to go and find the old man. He wondered where he was going to find a competent hypnotist here in DC. He was sure that it would be far easier over in Los Angeles, but first, he had to get Alex home. Until that happened, all was purely conjecture and nothing more.

He trotted downstairs to the dining room, feeling more like throwing up than eating.

Spender looked up at the sound of familiar footfalls. As Dustin entered the room, he walked over to put his arms around him and help him solicitously to his chair.

"Ah, my boy, my boy! I hope you like seafood?"

He kissed Dustin's cheek, then took his own seat across the table. "So, what have you learned?"

"I was reading the stuff on mind control. It's fascinating." Dustin permitted the old man to seat him, and then looked at the table, wondering whether this magnificence were an attempt to impress him or whether he was merely becoming paranoid. "I really want to see some of the work being done."

He reached for a napkin.

Spender smiled. "Good, good! I love your enthusiasm. See it done... haven't you, already? What do you mean?"

He'd put off telling Dustin about Alex until it couldn't be avoided. Dustin's fascination with what would repel most was, well, fascinating in itself. A part of him said that Dustin was only interested in Alex, but part of him thought he saw a power-hungry gleam there. Maybe the boy wanted this power for himself?

"Have I not told you what you need to know?"

"Always, sir. I never realized exactly how much was going on behind the scenes. Makes me wish I'd gone into politics instead of the entertainment business. It's all so exciting. How do you determine what to install in someone? What makes one a good candidate, and another not? I want to see it from start to finish." Dustin spoke ingenuously, and gazed as adoringly as he could manage at the old snake on whose say-so his Alex would live or die.

Spender smiled. "There's time to switch careers yet, my son..."

His smile grew dark. See it from start to finish...? Careful what you wish for, my sweet Dustin, he thought.

"Well, the best candidate is one who is strong... outwardly." Spender cracked a lobster claw between his fingers. "For some reason the strong ones, the ones that are toughest to break, hold the conditioning the easiest..."

The meat in the claw was recalcitrant, and Spender reached for a utensil.

"That's for adults, anyway. In terms of children... you pick the ones that seem to have a natural aptitude for what you want them to do. Same with adults in that way, too, but usually really young children don't resist. Of course, the job then is to ensure that they never will." He looked at Dustin, a cold smile on his face. "You'd make a great killer, you know. As does Alex. If I'd had you earlier I might have sent you out with him, to work together, as a team." He'd heard Dustin making noises to the effect of wanting to work with Alex enough times.

He wondered...

"When did you realize that Alex would be good for the use to which you put him? Why did you use him the way that you did? Was it only because he was young and friendless, or did you see something more in him?" Dustin was afraid. He could sense menace behind the benign expression on the old man's face.

"Alex? Ah, yes. It's always young Alex with you, isn't it? Do you like little boys, Dustin?" Spender asked, smirking cruelly. "Been the downfall of many statesman."

He reflected. "I suppose that's one reason I chose him. He appealed to many of the men who we needed to 'get the goods on', as I believe you say out in Hollywood. As far as killing... if used as a reward, the term 'a killer instinct' gains new meaning. Wouldn't you say? How powerful did you feel this afternoon, with LaPierre? How certain were you that what you were doing was the right thing?"

Allowing menace to creep fully into his voice, Spender finished, "How did it feel, to pass ultimate judgement and sentence on the man?"

"It felt good," admitted Dustin, cracking a claw and then picking at the meat that was revealed. "He was so convinced that I was Alex, and that I was controllable." He smiled a little grimly. "You knew that I was going to kill him. Why did you permit that?"

Spender's smirk widened. Got you, he thought.

"You say you want to know about... mind control? How in control were you then? If, even two weeks ago, I'd told you to kill the man, you'd have thought I was crazy. Maybe you still do... fair enough. But the point is, you were influenced to kill him. Not mind control, not exactly? What if everything you know about Krycek is a lie? What if he was just a hallucination? What then?"

"I don't understand," Dustin mumbled. "How could he possibly be a hallucination?" He frowned. "You are messing with my mind? When? Why would you bother?"

Spender laughed. "Eat your food, my boy. I can't not play with your head. My god, it's what I do! Didn't Alex warn you about me?" He chortled maniacally.

"Alex is real. But -- is he? He's so many things to so many people. Who's the real Alex Krycek? Is there one?"

He thought for a moment. How best to say this... "You killed for your image of him, to save the Alex you think needs saving. What if he doesn't? What if it's all a lie, and Alex is here and well in DC, about to walk through that door there?"

He looked up expectantly, pointing toward the door with his lobster claw.

Dustin shoved back his chair abruptly. "I believe that I'll go now. I don't like to be made fun of, and you are messing with my mind. Alex is my love. All of Alex, the child, and the killer. I know what you made of him, and he's mine. I love him. You can't change that, can you? You can kill me, or lock me up, or even torture me, but you know that Alex and Dustin are soul mates. Excuse me."

He turned to go.

Spender stood up in a flash, pressing his body to Dustin's. "Dustin... don't go. I... sit. There's something I need to tell you."

Though he had at first panicked inside at Dustin's desire to flee, he now saw it for what it was: he was getting to the lad. Good.

"If I told you that Alex could die tonight, what then?"

He drew his face into a mask of remorse and guilt as he gazed at him forlornly.

"Oh, I am so sorry Dustin... but it seems your Alex killed the man who was looking after him so kindly, El Habibi... I mean, the man gives him the top position in his harem, he was his favorite catamite, and Alex kills him? How ungrateful, yes? Well, it seems the Tunisian government thought so... he's in jail, awaiting execution."

He gave Dustin a predatory look, which seemed to say, He can live or die. It's up to you.

Dustin felt a cold fear knife through him, and pushed the old man away from him while he tried to think. This could be true, or the Smoker might only be playing with him. How was he to know? What was he to do? He sat again, somewhat heavily, and stared into the remote distance. This was beyond him. All of a sudden he felt tired.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Krycek lay on the hard pallet, breathing softly. His body was sore, but his mind was sharp. He tried not to think about them, but the images of Marita and Günter came to him anyway. They spoke to him, accusing him.

If you hadn't run, boy, it would still be all right.

Sergei's voice, but their faces floated in front of his horrified eyes.

See all the trouble you cause? All the death and suffering is because of you?

Alex shivered.

People should run from you. You bring pain, and death. Not pleasure. You fail, Alex. But more than that...

Alex whimpered.

You killed their dreams. You're not allowed to kill them, Alex. Only who and what we say.

He tensed, waiting for the first blow.

The swarthy thug watched Alex as he lay twitching in uneasy sleep. He'd been waiting for the pretty foreigner to fall asleep. Now as Alex mumbled and tossed, he crept closer to him, his mouth watering at the pale flesh that gleamed in the faintly lit cell.

Alex stiffened, feeling a presence near him. He moaned. Was it a boss, or a prisoner? Would he flee or fight?

Opening his eyes, taking in the musty smells, he remembered where he was. Tunisia.

He still felt the shape over him. He decided to wait, and see what happened.

Alyosha whimpered softly.

Sascha waited.

Carefully, the silent man crept closer, his hand reaching out to smother the sounds this sleeping infidel might make. He was going to love this. The slim strength of the newcomer had burned a hole in the back of his eyes, and now, Allah be praised, he would possess the lush lips; the strong body would be his.

He placed his outstretched hand over Alex's mouth and leaned in to overpower him.

Raptor-quick, Alex's hand fastened around the other's wrist, and his other was at his neck. He growled. He was Sascha now...

Krycek pulled the man close. "Think you're gonna rape the American, don't you?" He squeezed his fingers, crushing the man's larynx. "Well, I'm not American. You are wrong, it would appear."

He spread his fingers to catch the carotid artery in his grip, and squeezed, cutting off the blood to the man's brain. He kept squeezing, staring intently as the look of panic he knew would overtake the other's face made its first appearance in his eyes.

Life ebbed from the would-be attacker almost before he realized that the pain was death coming to claim him. As his body subsided onto the straw covered concrete, others within the cell noted, and became afraid.

Krycek sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the others with eyes full of menace. "Anyone else want a piece of me?"

Dustin made his excuses and disappeared back to his room as soon as he could. He was shocked, unsettled, and all his intentions had been subsumed in sheer panic at the thought that Alex was to be executed. In his mind, it might already be too late, and he pictured his Alex, blindfolded and shot before anyone could rescue him. His body felt leaden. He didn't even bother to strip off his clothes, but merely lay down on the bed and slowly began to work through his memories of Alex.

Jack had been working too long. He stretched, and got up. No prisoners to torture for a long time... and Alex gone, too. He had been told there was another, though... one who had killed Pyotor.

He smirked. Pyotor was a fool. As to another Alex, how could that be?

He had to see for himself. He didn't believe it for a moment, of course, yet... He'd overheard Malia say something to a cook.. Wasn't she the one who found Pyotor? He thought she had been...

Taking a small knife and slipping it into his jacket, he stalked upstairs to Dustin's room, the fabled room where the new Alex was said to be.

Jack worked in the dungeons. He didn't come up here very often.

Opening the door, he was stunned to see Krycek lying on the bed clothed in a fine suit, looking angelic, yet somehow troubled.

He smiled. Just the way he liked them... walking over he placed his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Dustin, right?" He felt his cock leap to attention as his eyes roamed his body. Just like Alex... so much like him.

"You know who you look like, don't you? Are you as good in the sack as he is?" Jack's teeth flashed in a nasty grin, fetid breath gusting toward Dustin. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Dustin was numb, half asleep and half shocked. For a moment he stared, uncomprehending.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my room?" He raised his hands to press them against his face in a gesture that he hoped looked like panic. "Why don't you go away and let me sleep?

"I'm Jack, baby," Jack sneered. "I used to love Alex... if you know what I mean. But you'll do. But, who are you?" Jack lay down, running his hands over Dustin's body lewdly. "Where did you come from? No matter. We may as well make the most of what we have." He began undoing Dustin's pants. "I just can't believe this... must be my lucky day."

Dustin gasped, and then moaned pitifully, his hands moving to cover his eyes. He wanted to seem as unthreatening as possible.

"I don't understand," he said in a voice made breathy by shock. "What are you doing this for? Why do you want to hurt me?" His hand slipped to the back of his neck and rubbed. "I've got a headache. Let me sleep, please."

Jack smiled. "Aww, come on. I used to take Alex's headaches away by fucking him... he said I made him feel good. Since you're so like him, maybe you'll like it too, sweet thing." He pulled Dustin's pants all the way off. "My, my. Such a pretty boy. No wonder the Master keeps you up here, where we can't get at you."

He laughed. "But Pyotor told us all about you. I heard you killed him."

He reached into his pants, undoing his fly and yanking out his stiff cock. "Now I think I just insert tab A into slot B..." He began feeling around, preparing to do just that. He spread Dustin's legs roughly with a huge hand.

Dustin lay, unprotesting and passive. As the large blond guard knelt on the bed to facilitate the introduction of his cock into Dustin's ass, Dustin risked reaching under his pillow, and his hand closed on the hilt of the knife that was his talisman. He waited, gathering his strength.

Jack had ceased to pay any attention to what Dustin was doing, as he scrabbled about with his fingers, trying to center his dick. Dustin breathed deeply, and tightened his muscles.

"Guess what?" he inquired.

"What, baby? Won't take me but a minute and we'll be off," said the guard, brightly.

"You lose!" Cat fast, Dustin sat, knife in hand, and plunged it into the blond's neck. "Shouldn't have told me about Alex. I don't like people who hurt Alex."

Jack died, astonished.

With a grimace of fear and disgust, Dustin picked up the phone and called for Malia.

Malia walked into the room. "Again, they hurt you," she said softly, taking him in her arms. "Why can't they leave you alone?"

She kissed his cheek, stroking his hair. "Let me get this cleared up, and then we can find you a clean place to stay. I really am going to have to talk to the Master about this... when's Alex coming back?"

She placed another call, and two other workers came to cart Jack's body away.

She began stripping the bed.

When sleep came to Dustin at last, he was almost too tired to care where he was. His mattress had been replaced, and clean bedding had been brought for him. He'd showered and now lay naked amidst fresh sheets, his mind endlessly racing as he tried to put the day's experiences behind him.

His sudden drift into sleep was a relief. His body stilled at last, and his mind broke free and wound its way to wherever dreamers go, leaving him at rest, one hand curled loosely around the knife that was his only friend.

Krycek lay on his pallet. After he'd killed the would-be rapist, none had bothered him, except for one man who complained that the guards might not move the body for days and there certainly wouldn't be any food for days, either.

"I've handled worse," Alex assured him, as he lay back down.

As he drifted into sleep, he worked hard to keep his mind blank, or at least on a positive topic.

He smiled as he recalled Dustin, and as he slipped away, his last conscious thought was, "Hey baby. I know I'm far away right now... but I feel you as if you're here with me. Holding me, your hair so soft. Your eyes holding mine... I feel so safe with you."

It seemed to Dustin as though Alex were with him, soft skin pressed against his body, arm around him as he buried his lips into Dustin's hair. Alone in his bed, he shifted position slightly, and sighed. Alex's mouth whispered over his face, grazed his lips, and then drew away, while his lover's eyes bored into his.

"I know that you aren't real, but I love you so. Stay with me. Don't leave me again." Dustin's cry was plaintive.

Dream-Alex kissed Dustin's hair. "I never wanted to leave you the first time." He pulled Dustin close, and folded his arms around him. "I'll always be with you... so long as you love me. Just... love me?" Alex lifted Dustin's chin to gaze into his eyes. "Aww, Little Cub. Why do you look so sad? I'm here, am I not?" He reached to kiss those red lips, longing to feel Dustin's return kiss.

The sweet and lazy glide of tongue on tongue, and the firm pressure of moist lips was a thrill that made Dustin gasp. He slid his hand up the firm back until it reached the nape of Alex's neck. There he paused, stroking and fondling.

"You've been hurt, love. What have they done to you? Tell me you're okay?" Dustin's fingers danced over cuts and grazes that he hadn't felt before.

Alex winced to think that even in his dreams, his cuts and hurts were revealed to Dustin. "I'm fine, baby. Little cub. As long as you love me... I can take anything. I'm in jail now, but I promise you, I'll be out soon, some how, some way..." His voice had an edge of need and longing in it.

He ran his hands over Dustin's smooth skin. "But what has he done to you? Has he made you... turned you yet? It doesn't sound like he has... I hope he doesn't torture you and make you turn though. You... I can't imagine him hurting you. Are you still there?"

"Turned me? He'd have to kill me first, love." Dustin laughed, happy for the first time in weeks. This wasn't real, but for now, it would do. "He thinks that he can make me into something. I don't quite know what, but it won't be good, whatever it is. He plays games with me, but there's no way he can stop me from loving you. I... you may not want me any more when you know."

"Not want you...? Love, love... if you've seen me, and known me... you know what I am. If you can forgive me that... I think I can forgive you anything. What is he making you into?" He was concerned, and a little frown creased his nose.

"You know that he fucks me. Sometimes... sometimes I come. Not always. Sometimes I can't stop myself, but that isn't it. You know that the only way he will agree to keep you alive is if I'm his good little fucktoy. The thing that you won't like... " Dustin paused, wishing he hadn't started this. "I've killed people." He waited then for the cry of horror that he was sure would come.

Alex paused. "He always made me come, too, no matter how hard I tried not to. But, lover... what's this about you killing? Why did you do it? Did..." Alex's lip trembled. "Did he make you do it?"

Alex hoped his love wasn't being forced to fuck everyone in the Consortium, as he felt he had been. "Did he?"

"No." The word was so definite, and so full of pride that Dustin himself was surprised. "Pyotor and Jack tried to rape me. I killed them because they were less than human and I didn't want them touching me. The doctor... He was an animal. I watched him hurt you on the tapes, and I had to do it. I cut his throat when he tried to control me with words that he programmed you to respond to. You should have seen him, love. He was so shocked." Dustin spoke defiantly; terrified that Alex would be disgusted, and go. When he didn't move straight away, Dustin sought his mouth, brushing kisses over him again and again.

"Pyotor and.." Alex was instantly alarmed. "He threw you in the dungeon, love?" Alex tightened his hold on Dustin. "Oh, God, no..."

"Hush, baby. No. They came to me. They both thought that I'd be a pushover if they came and stuck it to me in my sleep. They didn't bargain for my knife. I love my knife, sweetheart." Dustin kissed Alex again, feeling himself grow hot as he did so. "Blood for you, love, but not enough to erase what they've done to you."

When Dustin mentioned the doctor, Alex spat, "He deserved what he got. I hate him... I always hated him. He thought if he gave me candy after, it was all right." He smiled thinly as he imagined LaPierre's reaction when Dustin didn't respond as he would have. "I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall," he said, kissing Dustin's nose. "He never touched you, did he?"

Dustin laughed. "He was so sure that he could just use me and not face any consequences. He was pathetic. It was a pleasure." His hands moved down the body of his dream lover. He could feel the hardness of Alex's erection pressing against him like steel. "God, I love you, ghost-man."

"Dustin..." Alex wrapped his hands around Dustin's face again. "Thoughts of revenge can be so sweet. But be careful that they don't damn your soul... Spender is crafty, and I fear that he would use your need for vengeance against you. I'm okay, love. I'll be fine, as long as you love me, and I can come home to you."

Feeling Dustin move down his body, he sighed. "And as long as you always make me feel this good... I'm putty in your hands." He pressed against Dustin, sighing. "Oh babe... Ghost-Man, huh?" he laughed. "Does this feel like a ghost to you?" He grabbed Dustin and rolled him over, so he was on top of him, and looked down at Dustin as he lay below him on his back.

"Who you gonna call?" murmured Dustin with a small snicker of laughter. "Is that ectoplasm in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?" He gave himself up to the insistence of the movements that Alex was making against him, his dick beginning to pulse as it slid between their bodies. Spreading his thighs apart, he wrapped his legs around the body in his arms, and glued his mouth to his lover's.

Alex smirked. "You haven't changed a bit. Good." He stayed there a moment, just reveling in the feel of Dustin's legs around him, and then he thrust inside, hard and fast. "My Little Cub..."

Attaching his mouth to Dustin's once more, he began thrusting in and out slowly, wanting to make this last.

No one had ever loved him enough to kill for him, or let someone...

Alex moaned. "Love you so much, Dustin... why do you love me? Where did you come from?"

"Oh, Jeez. Let's not talk philosophy. I'm gonna come." Dustin pulled Alex's mouth down to meet his searching lips. He could feel the first prickling tingles as his body responded to the insistent motion of Alex's thrusting cock. "Just fuck me. Do it hard."

Alex grinned at his love, propping himself up on his hands. "All right baby, hold on... here it comes."

He tensed his body, and began thrusting hard and fast, biting his lip as he felt his balls tightening . This was for Dustin, and he wanted it to last.

Gazing at Dustin, he felt a familiar rush of power wash over him. "Slut..." he murmured.

"Your slut," gasped Dustin as the white heat flashed over him, and all he could do was ride it out, tense and trembling beneath the gripping hand and bruising hips. He felt the hot flood inside him as Alex gave him his juices, and shuddered awake, covered in the stickiness of his orgasm.

"No! No! Please... Come back to me." He was alone, and his dream lover was merely a memory. Tears burned his sinuses, and it was a very long time before he slept again.

Alex felt a glow as Dustin confirmed he was his slut, and an outpouring as he came... and he awoke, sweaty and damp. He was clutching himself in his hands, and he tried to close his eyes, to return to Dustin, but sleep wasn't to be found.

"Lover... come back," he moaned. "Please..." He blinked, trying again to find his lover. Finally, he closed his eyes, hugged himself, and rocked himself to sleep, not even realizing it when he put his thumb in his mouth.

He wanted to be loved...

Spender sat at his desk, writing and reading emails. He'd been told about Jack's intrusion into Dustin's room, and was looking forward to viewing the tape of the event. It was a shame to lose another dungeon worker, but thugs were a dime a dozen. As long as Dustin was happy to kill them, he could always find more, he knew.

Dustin. He lit a cigarette and inhaled, as he thought of his latest problem.

From what he had heard, Dustin hadn't hesitated in killing him. Before the man had even started to rape him.

And... Ah, here was the tape now. Taking it from the lackey who brought it, he dismissed the man, and popped it in the VCR.

Leaning back in his chair, he noticed that Dustin said he didn't like people who hurt Alex. He was still working through that then. Spender needed to work on that... needed to get Dustin to give him some allegiance. Show him some.

He closed his eyes, inhaling again. Mulder... Mulder had been a good way to get to Alex. Might he be to Dustin, too?

He reached across his desk for the phone, and called Dustin in his room, to summon him to his office.

Dustin was still in the shower when the summons came, and he groaned. The old man rarely sent for him until evening. This was probably going to be unpleasant. He finished his shower and dressed with care, trying to make himself as attractive as possible, and knowing that no matter what he did the old man would have seen it all before.

Alex was so much sexier than he was. He knew he was a babe-magnet, but Alex had an earthiness that caught the breath, and Dustin knew himself for a poor imitation. He frowned. How was he going to find a therapist that could undo the things that had been done to Alex without continuing to hang around the evil old man who ruled this domain? He had to stay civil, put up with the Smoker's unwelcome attentions for now. Alex would be cured. He, Dustin, had sworn it.

Sighing, he checked his reflection in the mirror, and then went to play his deadly game.

Spender looked up at the sound of Dustin's approach. He had been giving his video a second look - he smiled urbanely at Dustin and pressed the "rewind" button.

"Just looking over your handiwork from last night, my boy." He chuckled. "Come here, and let's have a kiss." He stood up and walked over to the younger man.

Dustin felt the flutter in his belly that told of his terror. What did the old man want of him? Was he to be punished for defending himself? He accepted the kiss, and waited for Spender to tell him what was on his mind. Somewhere inside himself he was screaming. He smiled at Spender, hoping that he wasn't telegraphing the fear he felt.

"Sorry about that. He wanted to touch what wasn't his."

"I know, son." Spender pulled him into his arms. "You did the right thing. But was it for the right reason?" He lifted Dustin's chin, staring hard into his eyes. "Was it for you, or for that slut of yours? The one you say you love. Well, that's over now anyway... Unless..." Spender pursed his lips, appearing deep in thought.

"Who do you belong to, Dustin?"

"You know the answer to that, sir. Alex is my owner." Dustin's voice caught as he whispered his answer. "All that I am... I belong to him. I can't lie to you, sir."

Spender sighed. "After all I've given you... you still remain faithful to him? A schoolboy's love, perhaps. He was your first male lover, wasn't he?" Spender pulled Dustin close, kissing his mouth tenderly.

He couldn't believe it, but it actually hurt him inside, someplace so deep he thought it was hidden even from himself, to hear Dustin insist Alex was his owner.

"My boy... I would give you the world. You aren't Alex's first male lover, you know... Did he ever tell you about Fox Mulder?"

"We didn't have time to go over our lives, sir. I know that he's had lovers - many of them. Their names don't really interest me. I'm not naïve. I've had lovers myself. I'm hardly a schoolboy; I'm 38 years old. What calls me to Alex is what he is. He is my heart, and without him, I have none." Dustin sat down, desolation written on his face. "I don't want the world, you see. All I want now I know all I ever wanted was Alex."

Spender's eyes darkened, and he walked over to Dustin. "Ungrateful boy," he said. "You could have had it all. But now..." He reached down a hand to drag Dustin out of the chair with sudden force. "Now I have to show you who you really do belong to. You only think you belong to Alex."

He pressed a button, and a heavyset man appeared in the doorway. He jerked his head in Dustin's direction. "Take him to the dungeon. You know the room, the one with the rack. Set him up... I'll be down in awhile."

The thug nodded eagerly. "Yes, Sir. Will he give me any trouble, Sir?"

Spender looked at Dustin. "Not if he wants to live," he said, crisply and dispassionately.

Dustin's mouth was dry. His heart was racing, but still he looked at the old man and smiled wryly.

"Could have had it all? I don't think so. You won't give me the one thing that I want." Turning away from the Smoker, he took the thug's arm. "Come on. Lets get it over with. It was always going to happen."

The thug grunted. "Come on, then." He began to lead Dustin down the hall, to the elevators. "You are a strange one. Usually we have to drug people to get them to come down here."

Stepping onto the elevator, Steve looked at Dustin curiously. "So what'd you do to piss him off? You're his golden boy, you know. Or you were..."

The elevator chimed to a stop, and Steve led Dustin off, and down the dim hallway.

"I mean, he... he hasn't been this way about anyone! Well, Alex, but Alex was different..." Steve studied Dustin closely. "Although you know, you do look a lot like him..."

Steve led Dustin to a dark, dank room with a metal bed in it, with straps - the bed Alex had been strapped to, earlier. "Here we are, Dustin. I'm sure you know where we want you. Why are you so... damn cooperative? Are you naive? Or stupid? Or both?"

Sighing, Dustin shrugged his shoulders. "Would there be any point in fighting? I don't think so. It would just get him off watching, wouldn't it?" He moved to lie on the bed. "Just do it. Get it over with."

Steve chuckled. "You gotta strip for this one, cutie. Then you can lie down."

Blushing, Dustin slipped out of his clothes, folding them neatly and laying them aside. "Of course. What was I thinking?" he muttered. "Don't you ever feel like an extra from Flash Gordon? A minion of Ming the Merciless?"

Steve didn't miss a beat. "Actually, at times I feel more like Igor," he said, a touch sadly.

"Why the hell do you do it?" Dustin lay down on the metal, and shivered involuntarily. Keep talking. Keep the nightmares at bay, he told himself.

Steve began fastening the straps. "Well, Alex shivers so nicely. Too bad he's not here... I used to love to talk to Alex. Sometimes, he was just like a little boy... is he going to do that to you? Make you a little boy?"

"Who the hell knows what he's going to do to me. I don't think so, but that and $10.00 will get me into see a movie. Whatever. You know, all I feel at the moment is pissed off." Dustin ground his teeth. "That old snake lies and cheats. Someday he'll be sorry."

"Lies and cheats, huh?" Steve strapped Dustin's arms down. "How does he do that exactly? He always treated me well enough."

"The things he promises are lies. He takes what he wants and then goes back on his word. Don't worry about it." Dustin closed his eyes. "Just bring it on, bud. Let's not hang around."

Steve ran a hand over Dustin's chest. "Such smooth skin," he murmured. He strapped Dustin's legs, then found some electrodes. "I bet you know where these go." He smiled slightly, and attached them to Dustin's dick, balls, and nipples. "Comfy yet?" he sneered. "Time for me to go tell the master you're ready for him. He may be awhile - or not. You never know with him."

He shrugged, and began walking away, toward the hall.

Left to his own devices, Dustin looked around himself, and then closed his eyes, trying to conjure up a picture of his beloved. He'd seen so many videotapes of him lying here. He knew that his life was about to change - again - and he wanted the comfort of Alex before his eyes. He sank into a restless doze. Spender smiled to himself as he took his private elevator to the dungeon level. It was two hours from the time Steve first told him Dustin was ready - in the interim he'd finished up some paper and lab work he'd had.

On his way down, he reflected that Dustin was used to being pampered... acted with such an air of entitlement. Spender doubted if he'd ever wanted for anything in his life, and wondered again how he had been attracted to Alex.

Walking into the room that held Dustin, he stood for a moment, taking in the beauty of the man who lay before him.

Alexei...

Spender lit a cigarette. "Do you know why you're down here, boy?" he asked in a gravelly tone. The voice broke through Dustin's reverie, leaving him bereft as his vision of his lover faded, to come face to face with grim reality. He raised his long lashes, and stared at the old man.

"Of course I do," he said, shortly. 'I'm here at your whim."

Spender walked over to him, and leaned down so he could whisper sibilantly right into Dustin's ear. "You would do well, boy, to remember that I have the power to make life extremely unpleasant for you. Now, you want to try that one again?"

His hand hovered above a lever that would turn on the electricity to the electrodes. He didn't press it, but if he knew Dustin, he'd have to use it on him.

"What do you want me to say to you? That I don't love Alex? Not true. Wishing won't make it true. Torturing me won't make it true. Killing me will only make it true to the extent that I won't be here any longer. You wish that I loved you, and that makes you angry, but think about it. How is this going to change things?" Dustin licked his lips. "You can make me fear you, certainly. You could make me like you, if you tried, but you can't force love from me. If that's the wrong answer, so be it."

Spender almost dropped his cigarette. "Love me? What makes you think I care if you love me or not?" He stroked Dustin's hair. "I have Alex. He shows me a... kind of love. I ... how could I make you like me? I... yes, I want your love, Dustin. How did you know?" Spender kissed Dustin's cheek, hoping he had buttered him up. If he thought what he wanted was that simple...

"You are strong... so much stronger than he. He never lashed out at us. How is it that you do?"

"Me? Lash out? I don't lash out at anyone." Dustin was astonished. "I killed the guy who came to torment me, and I enjoyed doing it. He thought that I was easy meat. Is that so wrong? You could make me like you by being honest with me. You seem to feel that the only way to make people do things is to coerce them. That's not true. Earn their affection and they'll do far more for you."

Spender thought for a moment. "Is that true?" If the truth be told, he had never seen another option than the one to rule by force, absolutely. "You could... love me, even after all I've done to Alex?" He bent down to kiss Dustin's cheek. "Alex used to be a willful boy. I needed to show him who was boss. But you..." He straightened up suddenly; unnerved by the direction the conversation was taking.

"You presume to think I care what you think of me?"

Dustin gave a short laugh. "Isn't that what this whole thing is all about?" He paused for a moment, frowning as he tried to marshal his thoughts. "I notice that you decided that you'd bring me down here as soon as I said that I love Alex, and yet I've never lied to you. It's not as if that was news to you. You can hurt me. You probably will, but I'm not Mackey. I'm not Alex, and what you do is for your own self-esteem. Nothing more."

Spender turned. "For that I should hurt you. Yet... would there be any point in it? You're a spoiled little boy who expects to be pampered. I think I'll just leave you here. Let you stew in your own juices for a while. But, no, you'd like that too much, wouldn't you?" He walked back over to Dustin's side. "I do have a party to attend tonight, and I'll want you with me. But you need to learn your place." He put his hand on the button again, then took it back. Then replaced it. "You don't think I'll do it, do you?"

Almost surprising himself, he pressed the button, turning on the juice. He kept it on for about five seconds, staring down at Dustin dispassionately.

"That hurt me more than you," he said finally.

Pain blossomed in Dustin's body, and he gasped. When the Smoker spoke, he began to laugh again, uncontrollable gusts of mirth that shook his body until the tears started in his eyes. He shook his head and lay back, closing his eyes. In a way, now that he was being hurt, he felt a great and profound relief.

Spender stared at Dustin. He was laughing... the insolent boy was laughing. He figured he could fix that.

"Dustin," he said, to get his attention. "I need you to come with me tonight. Otherwise, I would show you first hand what we did to Alex."

As it was, he figured he might have to do that to get Dustin to deny Alex. Even if he couldn't, if he could just get him to scream, like he had that day, the day Alex had agreed to go to El Habibi...

He pressed and held the button down for ten seconds this time.

"Still laughing, boy?"

Oh, fuck, it hurt. One day, old man... One day I will have you where I am now, and you will remember and be afraid. Dustin closed his eyes, willing his body to shut down. Alex loomed behind his eyelids, smiling fondly as he beckoned to him. I'm coming, wait for me, baby. He felt himself fall into a velvet blackness where Alex waited for him.

Spender looked down at Dustin. So the boy wouldn't show fear or pain... well, he'd see how long that would last. He ran his hand over Dustin's chest, then up to his neck and over his face. He tweaked one of Dustin's ears.

Opening his eyes, Dustin stared back at Spender. "What? Just do it, and get it over with, why don't you? You're going to anyway."

"Do what, my boy?" Spender smiled congenially.

"You're going to hurt me. I know it. You've been working up to it for days. Just get it over with." Dustin's voice caught.

Spender ran his hands over Dustin's chest, lightly. "And why would I want to hurt you, my sweet one, hmm? What could you possibly have done to deserve such a thing?" Spender's tone was solicitous.

"You tell me," snorted Dustin. "It's your paranoia we're dealing with. Not mine. As far as I'm concerned, you can just let me go and I'll go back to my room and read a good book."

"My paranoia?" Spender's smile widened. "Should I be paranoid, Dustin? Are you... planning something? Planning on being a naughty boy, and you subconsciously wish for punishment for such thoughts?" Spender smiled even more thinly, widely, and predatorily. "I'm sure you're wondering why Alex never killed me himself. How I ensured he wouldn't." He stroked Dustin's hair. "I know you want to know. Go on, ask," he invited. "Pure Oedipus..."

"Oh, come on. What could I possibly be planning? All I want is to have Alex back, and that's just what you can't stand, isn't it?" Dustin flinched at the movement the old man made. "I'm not pretending anything. I've been as honest with you as I know how, but still I'm here. Why is that? I didn't ask for it."

"Oh, you didn't?" Spender leaned down to kiss Dustin's lips. In a syrupy tone, he said. "You mean you're not just waiting for your Daddy to punish you? Guilt is a powerful thing, Dustin. Guilt... and anxiety. Do you recall Orestes, of Greek mythology?"

"Who played him in the movie of the week?" sneered Dustin. "I get all these Greeks mixed up. Was he Anthony Quinn or Charlton Heston?" He shivered again. The sheer uncertainty was frightening. "The only guilt I have, is over Mackey."

Good start, Spender thought. "You have something in common with your lover, then. Tell me about this guilt." Spender continued stroking Dustin's body, running his hands lower over Dustin's thighs. "This guilt over Mackey. Why do you feel guilty about him? You? The man who sees people only as routes to promotion, to success? The man who uses people," Spender finished with a sneer.

"You see me as a user? That's unfair. I've used people in the past, but no more than they used me." Dustin's brow furrowed as he pondered. "The guilt I feel is for taking Alex from Mackey when he loves him so much, but even I can see that he isn't what Alex needs. I'm what Alex needs."

Spender sighed theatrically, and lit a cigarette. Inhaling deeply, he said, "That's fairly presumptive of you, wouldn't you say? To presume that you, Dustin, are so much better for Alex than a man he's known for over a decade. A man who's been there with him."

Spender exhaled, and began running his hand along Dustin's inner thigh. "You think you can give Alex what he needs. What does Alex need?"

"He needs someone who won't just cave in when he gets angry. He needs a companion, not a plaything. He needs someone who can stand up to him, but won't. He needs someone who loves him. He needs me, goddammit. And I need him!"

Spender smirked. "Isn't that sweet. A companion for my son. You don't think Mackey serves him well? Mackey would die for my son. You can best that? Oh, I can tell you he was quite bereft by the loss of Alex." Spender rolled his cigarette idly between his fingers.

"I know that Mackey would die for him. That's why I feel guilty, but I would too. I'd die for him if he needed that. Thing is, I'd far rather live for him." Dustin stared at the gloomy ceiling, picturing the last time that they'd been together, wishing that this were the dream, and his dream of the previous night the reality instead.

"You'd rather live for him? Then you should leave him, and never see him again. You know what becomes of his friends, don't you? The source of most of his guilt. I received another phone call. It seems Marita Covarrubias is dead, as well. And the boy Günter, that Alex tried to save. Dead. As everyone he loves ends up. Are you not worried?"

"I'll take my chances. I could be dead tomorrow anyway. Someone might hit me with a champagne bottle and then it would be lights out." Dustin smiled wryly. "I could have lived to be your age and not known what being in love was like. That would have been death in a way too. If he loves me, I can stand to die young." The smile had remained on his face as he spoke. Now it left his face, and his eyes became intense. "Please, let us be together." He said no more.

Spender laid a hand over Dustin's shoulder. "I'm doing my best, my boy. But you must know these Middle Eastern countries... they are not forgiving of murderers. Which is, I'm afraid, all they see Alex as - a fairly vicious one, at that. I understand he left quite a mess behind." Spender shook his head sadly. "What do you think of a man who kills like that? You would want to be with him?"

"I do. I want to be with him. Can I? Please?" Dustin was smiling again, unable to move and yet eager in his enthusiasm, the love shining from him.

Spender smiled back at Dustin. "Ah... young love," he sighed. "You seem true. But are you so sure Alex would love you as truly? Or as well? How do you know he isn't loving his cell mate now, for some food even or maybe water? He isn't known for his fidelity, you know."

"Am I so much better then?" Dustin asked, his voice breaking as he spoke to his tormentor. "After all, here I am, permitting the same thing to happen." He stared at the old man, willing him to see the truth of his love, knowing that it wouldn't be enough, but trying anyway. "You don't understand. Love isn't about control, it's about giving."

"Really? Is that how you felt when Alex first approached you? Let me guess. The first thing he did was give you a blowjob... or at least offer one. Tell me, did he stroke you, while his eyes never left yours, lips opening slightly, moist, licking his lips, ready to take it... oh so ready..." As Spender spoke, he became increasingly erect, until his cock strained in his slacks. He ran his hand over Dustin's balls and cock, lightly, lazily. "He wanted to please you, didn't he? What was your first reaction, Dustin, hmm? I'll know if you lie."

What was this old bastard wanting from him? A voyeuristic experience? Oh well. He could certainly provide that. "Uh... No, actually, he crowded me. Made me suck him. Told me I had to pay for his services. Did he sell me short then?"

Spender cocked his head. "No? He didn't try to please you first? He must be forgetting his lessons... he needs to be re-taught. Thank you," Spender said abruptly, replacing his hand on Dustin's cock. "I'll be sure to tell him it was you who told me where he needed... correction. Retraining." Spender stroked Dustin's cock, still hooked to the electrodes. "He should have sucked you first, and made sure you got off."

"But it was sort of mutual. He gave me pleasure. He did. He and I... It was together. I didn't know how, and he showed me." Dustin thought back. "I came first, you know... He wouldn't be denied." He closed his lips. Somehow it seemed to debase the experience, this sharing it with his lover's enemy. He would keep what he could to himself.

"So he did try to please you. Or are you just saying that, so that I won't punish him for it? Noble, noble. But you said... he cornered you. Of course he wouldn't be denied. He isn't meant to be. I would have to punish him more seriously if you could deny him. My boy..." Spender smiled proudly. "Tell me more, about your first time with him. I bet you thought you were straight, before you met him."

"Yeah, I was straight. I am straight. There's just something about him that my soul recognizes. It speaks to me, and all I can do is listen. He and I... We're linked in a way that you won't understand. I couldn't have understood it until I met him. Now, I can't live without him." Again, Dustin was silent. His love was something incomprehensible, something he had never expected to feel, and against which he had no defenses.

Spender smiled warmly. "That's my Alex. He'll steal your heart before you know it." He looked away. "You really do love him, don't you?" Spender said this in an almost wondering tone. "You, who had the world at his feet... you love Alex."

Dustin didn't speak; he merely nodded once, and then lay silent. Old man, he thought. You are a dead man. One day, I will remind you of this, and then I'll have your life from you, but first, I'll make sure that your dreams are dead, and that you know how they died. Allowing his eyelids to sweep down so that his thick lashes fanned out over high cheekbones, he waited to see what was next on the agenda.

Spender chuckled. Did the boy really believe he could shut him out by closing his eye, fluttering his eyelashes down? Pretty eyelashes to be sure. The gesture was one Alex often made, and Spender had to smile.

He ran his hand back and down, towards Dustin's anus. "You know, you really are good at pleasuring me. Quite talented. I might just have to take you before the party tonight." He unzipped his fly with his other hand, quickly pulling his cock out.

"Oh, sweet Dustin." He pushed one of his fingers inside Dustin's anus, feeling for his prostate. Finding it, he began stroking it lightly. "You'll be my good boy, won't you?"

"Why don't you let me go? You won't be able to do anything like this. I'm sure that it would be more comfortable for everyone concerned if I wasn't trussed up like a Christmas turkey." Stay patient, Dusty boy, his lust is the key. Willing himself to accept the caresses, Dustin thought of Alex, and of the things that Alex had taught him to do.

Spender nodded. "Are you going to be a good boy, then?" He began to take the electrodes off of Dustin's dick, caressing it as he did so. When it was free of leads, he bent his head and took Dustin's dick into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head. Stiffening his tongue, he paused to tongue the ridge under the head, where it joined the shaft undoing the leads from Dustin's balls as he did.

Not daring to relax, or even to breathe, Dustin felt himself responding to the caresses. He wondered if this were a respite, or if it was merely a ploy to relax him before resuming the onslaught. His cock was throbbing now, close to explosion as the terror of the earlier events gave way to relief.

Spender smiled, taking Dustin's balls into his mouth, one at a time, before working his way back to that hard cock. Scarcely daring to believe how hard Dustin was, he licked him again, then took him into his mouth, deep.

Dustin closed his eyes. Alex, Alex, if it were only you, he thought. The tightness along his inner thighs and the tingle of his rising seed made him groan, and he bit back a cry. The old bastard was determined to mess with his body, and he could do nothing about it. This being so, he might as well give in and permit it to wash over him. Shuddering, he climaxed into the mouth of his tormentor.

Spender smiled, sucking at Dustin as he came, being sure to swallow every drop. He wanted Dustin to know he was truly at his mercy, and to humiliate him. What better way than to have him come into his mouth, eager and oh so willing? Or so it would appear. Taking his hand, he moved it up Dustin's chest, tweaking his nipples. "You see, Dustin? I can give you pleasure, deep pleasure. As well as the alternative," he hastened to add.

"Are you going to be good for me?"

"When," panted Dustin, still taken by aftershocks. "When was I not? Have I done anything that you can say you didn't want me to do? Tell me what it was." Limp now, Dustin lay recovering, wondering when he ever would be free again.

Spender caressed Dustin's belly as he looked up at him. "No... not yet you haven't. But then, what have I really asked you to do? Give yourself to me. But I haven't given you to others, or sent you on a job... I've treated you well, haven't I? I just want something back."

Spender released the bonds on Dustin's legs, then kissed his way up Dustin's body, releasing his arms and chest straps.

"Be good, boy," he growled, lust evident in his voice.

He stood up, pulling Dustin to his feet beside him, then moved swiftly towards the wall, pressing him against it. "What can Alex give you? All he is, is a killer and a saboteur... and a whore. That's all he's ever been. I can give you so much more. I can give you him, too... but not to love. He can't be loved... he won't know what to do with love."

"You forget that he is human." Dustin knew that he shouldn't speak, but he had to; he needed to make this evil thing see, understand the harm he was inflicting. "I'm human too. I need him."

That does it, he thought. I'm going to be so sorry for talking back, but I had to try. I don't know what will happen to us now. This old bastard is totally deranged. He schooled his expression to softness, and raised his eyes to the Smoker. "We all need love. Don't you wish for it yourself sometimes?"

Spender put his arm around Dustin, holding him close. "Of course I do. Just as you do. You say that Alex is human... well, yes, he is. But he's not like you or I. Perhaps he was, once. But now... now he would look at you calmly and shoot your mother where she stands, then tell you he's yours forever, after which he'd go tell the same to some girl. Is that the kind of man you want beside you?"

Spender kissed Dustin's neck. "Of course you wouldn't, dear boy. You need someone truer... someone who can love in return."

"I do?" Dustin clamped his lips together in a movement designed to prevent him from betraying his revulsion. He would get through this, he would. "How do you understand love? What do you think that it means?" He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. This had gone on far too long.

Spender caressed Dustin's face. "How do I understand love?" He looked past Dustin's shoulder, at the hard concrete wall. "I understand love is what people say they feel for each other when they live together... I guess I see it as an abstract. Something that gets in the way."

He pushed Dustin more firmly against the wall. "Men like us, my boy - we can't allow love to interfere with our minds, with our work. There's no place for it. Countries - worlds - could fall if we did. Of course, I've heard it said love can make you stronger... but that would be mature love. I don't believe you or Alex can feel that."

What use was there to protest? Dustin sighed, and hung his head. "Are we to stay here?" His inquiry was spoken in soft tones. He was still unsure what this old toad had planned for him, only that he knew he wouldn't like it. "You spoke of some party you wanted me to go to with you." Spender kissed Dustin. "That's tonight, my boy. Various Consortium dignitaries will be there... we need to figure out how to best deal with the latest strike by the alien rebels. You'll see." He pressed in closer. "You'd prefer a bed to a wall, my boy? Oh, but then we'd have to go all the way upstairs... and you look so hot, pressed against the wall. Such a clean-cut boy, pressed against a dirty wall...I love it." Spender placed his hands on Dustin's shoulders and moved to turn him so he faced the wall.

"You know how I like it, my boy," he said.

Spender breathed heavily into Dustin's ear as he fumbled with his cock, preparing to thrust it against and into Dustin's anus. "You're so tight, every time..."

Submitting to the old man with an inward sigh, Dustin permitted the intrusion, and his thoughts flew to Alex. How different this would be if his love were here. Within the core of him was a place that the Smoker could not touch; a place to which he retreated and where he kept the memories of his beloved. He gritted his teeth and waited for the Smoker to finish slaking his lust.

Spender ground and slammed his way into Dustin, growling as he did so. "Dustin... my boy. You're good... almost as good as Alex." He bit at Dustin's neck, reaching a hand around to stroke his cock in rhythm with his thrusts. "Let me get you off again. You're such a delight, and I do so love seeing you enjoy yourself."

He began grunting incoherently as he began thrusting harder into Dustin, ass clenching and unclenching.

Enjoy myself? Dustin's teeth ground themselves together despite his attempts at control. He wanted his knife. He wanted to sever the piece of proud flesh that intruded inside him. One day he would do it. One day, this old fuck would know what agony meant. Smiling tightly, he stood, feet braced, and permitted whatever the old man did, and in his mind, he was held, cradled warm and safe by Alex, who knew, and who understood.

Spender took Dustin's ear in his teeth, working his cock faster in his hands as orgasm neared. He didn't feel Dustin's orgasm approaching... he wanted to. He would hold off as long as he could...

In a move calculated to arouse, he moved a hand across Dustin's chest, tweaking his nipples, then began licking and sucking at Dustin's throat. He pushed himself in harder, deeper, higher, seeking the younger man's prostate.

I wonder if I can simulate an orgasm, Dustin mused. He clenched his buttocks, concentrating on trying to make things feel right. Anything to get the old bastard off his back. He gasped a little, and felt the old man speed up as he did so. He could do this. His hate would see him through.

Spender bit Dustin's shoulder as he felt him tighten. "Good, good," he murmured in his ear. "So good..." He moved a hand back to caress Dustin's ass as it tightened. "Do it, boy..." He stroked the boy's cock as he thrust in hard several times, grunting loudly as he exploded into Dustin.

Dustin held his peace, slowly relaxing as he felt the old man's erection fade. His body felt scratchy, his nerves abraded without any hopes of pleasure. He doubted whether anyone would be able to get him off again today. Now, he leaned obediently on the wall, awaiting the old man's pleasure. Who the hell knew what he would take it into his head to do?

Spender kissed Dustin's back and neck, then turned him around with an eager grin. "You feel so good..." Running a hand down his torso, he stopped when he reached Dustin's dry cock. "I see you didn't finish, boy. Would you like to?" He cocked his head. "I almost think you wouldn't."

Shit! Busted! Dustin raised his eyes to the old man and grinned apologetically. "That first one kinda killed me. I'm not as young as I used to be. I - I don't think that I've got another one in me." He shivered.

Spender looked at Dustin, his expression darkening. "You let Alex call you slut, and you always come for him. Whore for a whore, and you won't come when I tell you to?" He reached out and slapped him, then put his hand down to fondle his cock. "You need to obey me now, boy. I've had about enough of your moral high ground. Now that you know what you know about Alex, you still feel devotion to him?"

Dustin frowned. This man couldn't possibly be for real. Didn't he know that one can't just rip off an orgasm whenever one felt like it? He shivered at the thought of what might happen, and his partial erection disappeared completely. "It's not that I don't want to. It's that I can't. I came once already. It just doesn't work like that."

"Why not, boy? You never had a problem with Alex. You could always get off for him, when he told you to. Why won't you for me? It's time you realized your true position here. I've been babying you so far, trying to be kind. But what's it gotten me? I think I need to change your attitude, boy. You seem to think you're better than anyone. Except Alex. If you're better than anyone, it should be him." He shoved Dustin against the wall, roughly. "You were right the first time, you know. I just didn't see it." He shook him fiercely.

"Right first time? I don't understand. I don't know what you want from me." Dustin was shivering for real now. It seemed that his basking in the warmth of the Smoker's affection was over now. He'd known that the time would come, but this was so sudden that he had not had time to prepare himself. He felt sick. "I'm no better than anyone else. I don't know how I've offended."

"You act so proud. Yet you love a man that I created and broke. And now you dare to hold me in contempt. I can feel your rage, boy. I just don't know what to do with you. I thought you could be a great asset, a part of our team. But you're not that at all."

Shaking his head, Dustin raised a frightened face to the old man. "It's not a big deal. It isn't a personal insult - or it isn't intended to be. I already came, and I just don't seem to be able to... How the hell does that mesh with me being a member of a team? Haven't you ever been unable to get it up in your life?"

Spender held Dustin against the wall, searching his eyes. The boy seemed to be telling the truth... and he seemed frightened. That pleased him, seeing Dustin fear him. He felt back in control. Smiling thinly, he pressed himself against Dustin. The boy's fear was making him hard again, and he fondled Dustin's balls as he spoke. "I have, but I always persist until I get what I want."

"What do you want? Tell me what it is that you want." Dustin's voice cracked as he felt the old man renew his caresses. He was going to be in so much trouble, but his dick remained steadfastly limp. "I don't know what to do."

Spender slapped Dustin's face again, hard. "Don't give me that. You know what I want. Give it to me, and maybe I won't give you to anyone tonight."

The words made no sense... The man was mad. Dustin pressed back against the wall and began to scream.

"Shut up, boy." Spender clasped a hand over Dustin's mouth, using his body to pin him to the wall. Dustin's fright had brought him erect, and he fed on it, feeling stronger as he gazed into Dustin's fear-stricken eyes. He used his hands to force Dustin to kneel, staring at him darkly, still with a hand over his mouth. "I want you to suck me, off, Dustin. Can you be a good boy and do that?"

That was something he could do, and he nodded, leaning forward to take the old man into his mouth. While this was happening he needn't fear the torture he was sure would come. He applied himself to the penis he was sucking, and worked on it as though his life depended on it. He was almost sure that it did.

Spender gasped. Oh, this was joy. Having the man right where he wanted him, doing what he wanted. He was going to break him, show him his place. Thrusting fast and furiously into Dustin's mouth as he held his face in his hands, he said, "You know that you don't belong to Alex anymore, don't you?"

Fuck you! Now, more than ever, I belong to him...

Dustin said nothing, merely sucked harder, wondering if his ordeal would soon be over, or if there would be still more of the old man's posturing.

"Talk to me, boy." Spender grabbed his hair, yanking his head back so he could see Dustin's eyes. "Tell me who you belong to. And you know, if you give the wrong answer, I'll make a phone call, and you'll never see your whore alive again. Though why you would want to... he's nothing. He can give you nothing. Only I can. Say it, boy." He drew his leg back, kicking Dustin in the ribs once for emphasis, but holding Dustin upright by his head and hair, running a thumb over Dustin's face.

Inwardly, Dustin quailed. The bastard was telling him to deny Alex, and although he was being constrained to do so, his whole body cried out that the betrayal would be absolute, that he would lose his love if he did so. Finally, he closed his eyes against the anger he felt. "I love Alex. You know I love him. If I give myself to you, that is why. If you own me, that is why. If you want me, you should be thanking him."

"Thank Alex? I suppose I should. He found you, after all. Perhaps a finder's fee?" Spender actually laughed a little, but it wasn't a laugh that was at all pleasant. "Exactly why you should hate him, Dustin. Don't you suspect that was the little tramp's plan all along? To give you to me, in hopes to free himself?"

Smiling, Spender thrust his cock towards Dustin's mouth, jerking his head towards it. "Finish me, boy. And maybe I'll only let one or two men have you tonight, instead of five or ten."

Bending to his task, Dustin reapplied himself to the man's pleasure. If he could get out; if he could get out of the basement, and somehow achieve freedom, he would be able to see how to help Alex. One thing was certain, he wasn't going to permit the old fuck to prostitute him the way he had Alex. He wouldn't stand for that.

Spender clenched and unclenched his fist in Dustin's fine hair. "Good boy... good whore. That's what you are, you know." He tightened his hands in Dustin's hair, anticipating a reaction. Pulling Dustin towards him, he finished, "If I say you are."

"A whore gets paid. What will you pay me, sir?" Dustin wiped his lips with the back of his hand, still perfectly pliable as he knelt, but wondering with trepidation just what was coming next. He was beginning to think that he wouldn't make it out of here.

Spender stroked the side of Dustin's face. "Why, your love's life. Isn't that what you want?"

He couldn't help it; he smiled. The relief was so immense that he felt warmth flood his belly. "Yes, sir. Thank you. That's all I want. All I ever wanted."

Spender smiled cruelly, yanking Dustin's mouth back to his cock. "Be a good little whore, and he'll live. Do as I say. Do who I say. And maybe you'll even get to hold him again... feel his arms around you."

Shrugging, Dustin resumed his task. There was no way that he wouldn't see Alex again. He had made up his mind. He would. This was not going to go on forever, and when it came to an end, there would be no more. He wasn't sure how he'd achieve it, but he was going to get away before he was permanently injured.

Spender wrapped and arm around Dustin's shoulders as the boy began to suck him again. He'd learnt in his time with him, and his technique left almost nothing to be desired. Spender was a little surprised at how adept Dustin had become, but very pleasantly so. He fucked Dustin's throat fiercely, until he came with a low, guttural cry. "Lick it up, boy," he said.

At last! The old bastard had finally shot his load, and Dustin could breathe again. He crouched, panting as the Smoker released him. That was the last time, he thought. No more. He didn't move, remaining on his knees, head drooping, waiting for what might come next.

Spender grabbed his hair and pulled his head toward his dick. "I said lick it, boy."

Applying himself to the task, Dustin complied, and for each minute of humiliation, he promised an hour of suffering for the old man.

When Dustin had licked his cock clean, Spender stepped back abruptly, nodding. "Good boy, for a start. Now. We've got to go get ready. I have some meetings today, and then there's our party. Do you want to attend any of the meetings?" He began to do up his pants.

"What are the meetings, sir? Would I have any place there?" Dustin was wondering. Today was the last day that he would be able to discover anything of use to either him or his missing love. He intended to use it wisely.

"Well, actually one of them is... remember the old doctor you asked about? I need to visit him. Then a man's coming to discuss the... health of another man, and his... Fox Mulder is becoming more of an annoyance than a help right now. You've never met him, have you?" Spender thought for a moment. "Could be useful..." he murmured. "And then there's his boss, Walter Skinner." He mulled this over for a few minutes.

"Do you remember all I told you about Oregon?"

"I remember." Dustin lowered his lashes, and slowly rose to his feet to stand submissively before the old man. "This has to do with the invasion?"

Spender nodded approvingly. Good boy. "Yes," he said. "It does. The time is almost upon us, as you know. They betrayed us again."

He motioned towards Dustin's clothes, silently giving him permission to get dressed.

A flood of relief washed over Dustin. Clothing meant that he was off the hook, for now. He knew that the respite was only temporary, but hopefully it would give him time. He began to dress himself, wondering what would be the best way to proceed.

"What do you think I should do, sir? What would you like me to do?"

"Well, I'd love for you to come to all the meetings, Dustin. I think you'll learn a lot. And... you can do an... official assignment, your first, too. That should make you happy." He smiled, hoping the boy would know what he meant. His bloodlust was strong now, and should be sated soon.

Karl Mackey's face had healed, save for an angry red scar on his left eyelid, where the new skin was still tender to the touch. He was back in the swing of things, and it was almost as though he had never been away. His love for Alex was always there, a part of him now, and one that never eased, but when not in his presence he could suppress it.

He'd taken over the production of "Hear No Evil" in Dustin's absence, and had begun to appreciate the amount of work that had gone into the pre-production. It had been a while since he'd had to come out from behind his desk, and he'd gotten a real appreciation of Dustin's ability.

He was at his desk, having worked late into the evening, when the phone on his desk rang.

"Mackey," he murmured, his eyes on the script he was reading.

Marita Covarrubias tightened her hold on the receiver of the pay phone she was holding to her ear. After playing dead, and her harrowing escape from El Habibi's palace (which nearly failed), and her even more harrowing eventual discovery of Alex, and then working out a deal with the guards at the jail and even pulling some strings at the UN with various Warsaw Pact and Amnesty treaties, she was finally at the end stretch. Alex's freedom was at hand. She knew Mackey would pay the 5 million dollar ransom. She knew it, but a part of her was still nervous as she heard Mackey answer the phone.

"Karl, it's Marita Covarrubias. A matter of extreme urgency has come up. It's - it's Alex, Karl. He's in jail in Tunisia. They want 5 million US dollars or they'll kill him at dawn tomorrow." Karl nearly choked.

"Whatever happened to 'hi, how are you doing?' Don't we do the pleasantries any more?" Mackey's voice was dry, but there was a sardonic humor to it as he responded to her. "Half a mil is a bit steep, isn't it? I could probably raise it, but to do so before tomorrow morning is probably pushing it. Did you attempt to haggle?"

"Steep? For Alex?" Marita's voice almost cracked. "Karl, I don't have time. I -- no, I didn't. They were going to shoot him today, Karl. I wasn't going to take any chances. They're giving him a chance as it is..." She looked up as a man approached the phone booth, and breathed again as he passed her. "I didn't think they'd do us any more... favors, and didn't want to lose the one we had."

She paused. "You... you still love him, don't you, Karl?"

There was a phrase Spender had given her once, but she'd sworn to herself never to use it...

"Still love... Of course I do. It's just the logistics of getting money to you. How will I get that kind of money to you in Tunisia? I've got less than 24 hours. You're 9 hours ahead of me, and the banks are closed here until morning. God, Marita, is there nothing we can do?" Mackey checked his watch. Maybe the Swiss bank he used could be of assistance. "I need an address, and a name... I'll try my best."

: "Damn." Quickly, Marita rattled off the number and address of her hotel. "I'm sure you can think of something. Western Union, Internet... wait. Didn't you say Jarred got busted once for hacking, but you got him off somehow?"

"Just hold on, Marita. Don't let them shoot him. Please do what it takes." Mackey was already calling Jarred, his thumb working the speed dial of his cellular phone as he spoke to Marita. "Have you seen him? How is he? What happened to him?"

"I... haven't seen him. I'm going there now. He... you remember El Habibi? He killed him... there was a boy. He tried to save him, but... he was killed. I was there when it happened. We were trying to get files out while Alex... anyway, they caught us, killed Günter and tried to kill me. I faked that I was dead. Alex got out, I got out, but... they got Alex at the airport. I've... stayed out of official channels since. You should see my fleabag motel. Anyway, I can't wait to see him. I've got some of his favorite foods with me... if they'll let me give it to him. Which I kind of doubt... but, I feel so bad. Günter couldn't have been more than sixteen... you know how he gets." Not that she didn't understand. She did, all too well.

Mackey had Jarred on the line now, and he bunched the phone into his shoulder so that he could talk to her at the same time.

"Jarred? Mackey. I need you in the office. Can you get here fast for me?" He hung up and began to dial Switzerland. "You still there, Marita? I'm trying. What room number are you in?"

Jarred yawned, stretching on his bed like a cat. He'd been dead asleep, but in typical Jarred fashion, had shrugged sleep off like he would his jacket. "Sure, boss. Be right there." "I'm still here," Marita said. "Niner Ten Eighty," she said. "This is a secure line we're on, right?"

Grabbing his light windbreaker, Jarred loped out of his house and into his car, driving to the studio. He was used to doing things at odd hours for friends, but for Mackey... that was new and different. He was intrigued.

"I'll call you back, Marita. Let me get some cash underway now. I'll be back to you within the hour, okay?" As the receptionist at the bank in Switzerland picked up the phone, he hung up on Marita and began to discuss the transferal of half a million US dollars to a fleabag hotel in Tunis.

When Jarred burst through the door, he was deep in negotiations to have a courier take his money to Tunisia.

Jarred loped into the room and flopped haphazardly into one of the chairs opposite Mackey's desk.

"What can I do you for, Uncle Karl?" he asked, carefully picking some lint off his black jeans.

"Thanks for coming in, Jarred." Karl swallowed. How much of this should he tell Jarred? He wasn't sure. "Umm... Hypothetically, how would it be possible to transfer a large amount of money to a place like Tunisia? Would it be possible to 'find' the money from somewhere else? Say somebody's account - someone who didn't know?"

Jarred smirked. "It'd be frighteningly easy." He stood up, about to prance over and show Karl how.

Karl. This was Karl, the man who'd reformed him... supposedly. What if he were only saying that to trap him? It was a possibility. Though Karl had, of late, given up some of his parole-officer-ish behavior, Jarred knew he still had a tight eye on him. I already got one parole officer, he'd often thought. What do I need two for?

He threw himself back into the chair, lowering his eyes and mumbling, "I mean, I used to know how. I could have maybe told you, a few years ago. I'm sure the security is way tighter now. Steep learning curve, and all."

Of course, the curve had really been no problem, and had never even existed...

"It's okay, Jarred. Trust me. I wouldn't ask you if I wasn't in the biggest fix in the world. I have to transfer half a million bucks from somewhere to Tunisia, and I think that the man whose fault this all is should pay. My friend's life is at stake if I can't get money there by tomorrow morning, their time." Mackey began to tell Jarred the situation. "Spender should be the one to pay. He has the money."

"Spender." Jarred repeated the name. He'd heard it before... but very little else about the man, except that he was evil, apparently, and ruled the world, or thought he did. Jarred had once tried to locate him in the equivalent of the Illuminati blue book, but with no luck.

"Well, the name's apt," he said with a small grin. "Just give me the info, like his social security number, or, anything you can get me." He laughed. "This guy will be a spender, whether he knows it or not."

A hint of glee that he couldn't hide spread into his eyes, the glee that was there whenever he hacked or cracked anything.

"What do you need, Jarred? Anything. Save Alex, and you can have whatever you want." Mackey sat down and prepared to chew his nails.

"Just a safe computer and a name," he said. He looked at Karl. "Chill, man. I got my bag of tricks." He pulled out a CD-ROM from his pocket and approached Karl's desk, vaguely aware that his possession of the disc might incriminate him. Might! If Karl knew what was on it...

"I need your computer, Karl."

Mackey jumped to his feet, gesturing for Jarred to take his chair. "Pizza? Isn't that what hackers like? Want me to buy some in?" He backed off and began to pace, nervously. "Dammit. I wish that there was some way I could do something."

Jarred slid smoothly into Mackey's chair, inserting his CD into the computer as he did so. In moments, he was absorbed. "I can quit out of this, right?" He quickly saved the script Mackey had been working on and launched a program off his disc, one to mask the source computer's identity by routing the call through several hubs, many offshore. Next, he sent a "mouse" after it, to alert him when anyone pinged the line. That way, he'd be one step ahead, if anyone did trace him. Not that he expected that they could... "Pizza?" he said. "Yeah, that'd be great..."

His hands flew over the keyboard.

Pizza came, and was devoured. After watching Jarred work for an hour or so, Mackey was beginning to fear that it wouldn't ever happen. In his mind, he saw Alex lying dead, shot by men who didn't know him, and tossed into a lime pit without anyone to remember him.

"God, hurry, Jarred. Please..."

Jarred held up a finger. "Cool it. I got him. Look. And no pings, yet. Now, what do you want me to do? Where do I send this?"

"We need to get it to the Hotel Alexandria in Tunis. Think you can do that for me?" Alex needs exit papers too. How the hell...? Mackey threw the files he'd been reading down onto the floor and sank his head into his hands. "God, I'm tired. There's a bonus in this for you, Jarred. Just as soon as Alex reaches the US..." He grabbed for his cell and dialed Marita, waiting impatiently for the line to clear.

"Yes." Marita's tone was hesitant.

Jarred nodded, never taking his eyes off the screen. "That's just a side dish, Karl. Anything else?"

"It's Mackey. The money is there. Call me back." He ended the call once again, hoping against hope that the line was not being monitored. "Can you get papers issued for Alex Sanderson? He's an American citizen." Karl passed a folder over to Jarred. "All you need is in there."

Jarred nodded. Grinning, he took the file. After tapping for several minutes on the keyboard, he turned to Karl, taking a gulp of his Coca-Cola. "Where do you need these sent? Tunis?"

"Yeah. I need them to get to him so that he can leave the damned country in the next day or so. " Mackey moved over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a healthy tot of scotch. "Have I told you lately that I love you, kid? You just saved someone's life, or at least you did all that was possible to save it. It's all up to Marita now." ~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Alex crouched in the corner of the cell, eyes flashing. The other men in the cell eyed him with menace.

They were hungry, because after Alex had killed his would-be rapist, the guard had not given them food or water, promising food when Alex was dead. Some of the men looked as though they would like to hasten that eventuality.

He had killed again, last night, after another man had tried to rape him, and he'd been fighting off assaults both physical and sexual since. He was a psychological ruin, and only Sascha was keeping him alive and sane, now. He growled as a relatively small man reached for him, and he somehow found the strength to tackle him to the ground after springing at him, eyes blazing.

The man that Alex had taken down lay on the floor, unmoving, and there was an ugly growl from the other occupants of the cell as they moved in close. Alex looked up as the largest of them grimaced at him.

"We are tired of your existence. You are a trouble to us." At a sign from the leader, all 9 of the others within the cell descended on Alex, punching and kicking.

Krycek quickly pulled out a shank he'd been hiding in his empty sleeve, since they'd taken his prosthetic arm away.

He'd crafted the shank over the course of the past few days, from the radial bone of one of the men he'd killed after they tried to rape him. During the night, he'd quietly used his teeth to cut through the man's wrist to the bone, and peeled and gnawed until he found a rough edge on the wall and used that to rip the skin off from the bone. He'd honed it in the same way.

Still, he'd looked half crazed, as he skinned the man's arm and sharpened the bone, and perhaps for that reason they'd not packed up on him before. Now their hunger drove them, and Krycek drove his shank into the nearest one of them, grinning fiercely.

The bubbling cry from the throat of the unfortunate that had received his shank in his throat made the others all shrink away once more. The huge man, Hussein, who had spoken to him first, spat on the floor.

"Now tell me, dog, what manner of man you are, to avoid your fate in this manner. Are you of the djinn? I am desolate in the knowledge of your survival, for as long as you live, the rest of us die. Can you not conjure yourself forth, oh spirit?" He glowered at Alex, who was staggering to his feet after ensuring that the man he had stabbed was no longer likely to attack him.

Krycek whipped his head around, smiling ferally at Hussein, white teeth flashing. "Djinn? I suppose I could be one. If you like." Cat-like, he sprang toward the man. "You don't want to know what I am, boy. If you want to live, you'd do well to leave it - and me - alone." He looked around. "That goes for the lot of you." His eyes shone and his sweat-laden skin glistened in the dim light as he looked at each man in turn.

One of them took a step towards him, and he had him in a throat hold in no time. Flinging the man down, he leapt backward, impaling the man's throat on the shank as he lunged again.

"Some people are sure slow to learn. I guess it's the desert heat."

The remaining prisoners huddled together beside the bars, the corpses of two of their number spilling their blood on the dirty concrete of the floor. The small man who had attacked him at the start groaned and sat up, unaware of the mayhem that had subsequently occurred. Alex leaned against the wall beneath the high, barred window, and wondered what the hell he was going to do. This couldn't continue. He had to sleep some time.

Looking at the small man, he tried to gauge his disposition. If he was going to leave him alone, he'd return the courtesy.

Moaning, and clutching his head, the little man looked around. Seeing Alex, he hissed like a cat and began to stagger to his feet. Hussein reached for him, drawing him away from the strange spirit that had come to plague them.

"Let him be, Ali. It is not wise to draw his attention on you. He is fortunate. Allah smiles upon him."

Alex smiled fiercely at Hussein. Damn straight...

Leaning his head back, satisfied that he would not be bothered, he closed his eyes lightly, holding his shank in his right hand.

The group of prisoners huddled together and stared at Alex, each man hoping that hewould falter. They didn't immediately notice a rising hubbub from along the corridor, until the cries and curses of prisoners in other cells further down suddenly became far too great to ignore, and they turned, needing to know what new misfortune would befall them. A woman was walking up the corridor, in the company of the two day guards, seemingly unfazed by the jeers and the catcalls from the men who lurked in the shadowy cells.

At the increase in noise volume, Krycek opened his eyes. Turning his head, he saw a blonde woman, accompanied by two guards, walking down the row of cells. Was that... no, it couldn't be. It was...

Shakily, he began to get to his feet.

The woman came to rest just outside arm's reach of the prisoners in his cell. Slowly, he shouldered the men aside as they milled about in front of the bars that penned them in. At last, he could see that it was. It really was Marita.

"Your release has been arranged," she said.

Krycek stared hard at her. She'd never looked lovelier. He had been sure she was dead. But thank God she wasn't. Still, he had to make it look good. He didn't know what the circumstances of her being here were. He lowered his voice to a growl. "Marita Covarrubias. Last time I saw you, I left you for dead."

She regarded him levelly, an expression of complete disdain on her cold features. "Alex, if it was strictly up to me, I'd leave you here to rot, too." She stepped back to permit the guards to open the cell door, and then as he stepped through, she ostentatiously held a handkerchief to her nose. He stank.

Krycek stepped out, feeling a burden lift from him as he turned to look at his cellmates one last time before he left. Perhaps he was a djinn, after all, the way they looked back at him.

Alex gratefully followed Marita and the guard wordlessly as he was led to a shower. Fresh clothes were laid out for him as he was beckoned over to it.

He couldn't ever remember a more welcome shower in his life. He splashed water on his face and body, cleansing away the stink and the filth.

Looking at Marita as he drank some of the tepid and rusty tasting water, which was water nonetheless, he at last dared to ask, hoping to find out why she was here and what his status was, "Who sent you?"

Dustin hurried back to his room, desperate to shower off the residue of the morning. His skin crawled with the thought of what might have happened, and his genitals stung from the burns that they'd received. He was still shaking.

Pushing open the door to his suite, he saw a package lying on the bed, and as he crossed the room, he could see that it bore his name. He didn't open it immediately. He shucked his clothing and went into the shower, scrubbing his skin until it burned. Finally, as he returned to his room, he picked it up and studied it idly. Tearing it open, he found several unlabeled CDs and a note from Alex.

"Dustin, little cub: Take care of these for me, baby. They are the reason I was sent here, and I need them to reach Mr. Spender. I know that I can trust you. I love you, Alex.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, clad only in a towel, Dustin wondered just what he should do with the disks.

Spender went up to his study, smiling grimly. He'd gotten part of what he wanted, and all of what he needed. The boy would surely be more respectful and careful in his manner towards him now.

Picking up his phone, he arranged for the two of them to be driven to the glorified nursing home where Wilheim Wertzgaard was living out the end of his days, which he suspected wouldn't be much longer. Senility could be a blessing, or a curse. Lately it had become the latter, as Wil had apparently been discussing his favorite patient, Alexei, with any who cared to listen.

He smiled as he lit a cigarette, and took a long drag. He would enjoy this, and he knew Dustin would, too.

He hit the intercom button to Dustin's suite. "Dustin? I'll need you to meet me here in my office as soon as you can. I have a treat in store for you. Make sure you bring your knife." Releasing the button, he took another long drag, smiling on the exhale. There was no greater feeling; his veins fairly thrummed the way he knew Dustin's would, soon enough.

Dusty shivered. Now what? He folded the little note carefully and retrieved his knife from its resting place beneath the pillow, then he went to his closet and found himself some clothes. By the time he had dressed himself, he had decided that he had to turn the disks over to the Smoker. Ten to one he knew about them already, and if Alex's life depended on it, he didn't want them going astray.

As he entered the Smoker's study, he was carrying the package with him.

"Ah, Dustin! My favorite son," Spender said jovially. "Come here, my boy. I've got good news for you. Oh, you've brought something with you. What is it?"

He looked at Dustin expectantly.

"It's something that was left on my bed, sir. I think that you ought to have it. It's..." He looked away, hoping that he wasn't provoking another attack by this. "It's from Alex."

Holding out the package to the old man, he waited for the reaction, wondering if he would be okay this time, or if Alex's name would make the old man crazy.

Spender put his arms around Dustin. This was it. He was giving up what Alex sent him. This proved he had Dustin's loyalty - or some part of it. He smiled, rubbing Dustin's neck. "Thank you, my boy. For your trust." Taking the package, he placed it on his desk and noted that they were CD-ROMS. No doubt El Habibi's research.

He moved closer to Dustin, running his hands softly over Dustin's face, kissing his forehead, lips, and cheeks. "I'm sorry about ... earlier," he said. "I was afraid you might betray me, and I panicked. Remember what you said, that you could love me? That I could earn your love? Please, tell me how. I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. I overreacted. Tell me what you need. I want nothing more than I want your love. You saw through me, and I panicked at that, too." He began to nibble Dustin's ear.

Dustin didn't know quite what to do. His skin crawled at the contact, and he had to concentrate on standing still while the old man touched him. He took a deep breath and turned to face the old man. "I - there's nothing specific. I just want Alex to be safe."

"Alex will be safe," Spender said. "I would never let him fall into any real harm. I know you won't understand this, but I need him. He's good at his job, a job that grows increasingly important."

"Will he be returning to DC soon, sir?" Dustin knew that he was pushing his luck, but he had to ask. If only the man would just for once let him know the truth, he thought that he would be able to bear this. Turning away, he moved to pour himself a glass of water as he waited for caresses, or blows.

Spender stepped back. "I'm not sure when he'll be back. As soon as he's free. I've just received word that Marita is alive, and working to free your love with the heads of different countries and the Tunisian government. I believe he will be home soon. I need him to be; something's come up." "Is it something I can help with, sir?" Dusty was glad to be talking about something that would take the attention away from the sexual dominance games that the old man had been playing. He sat on the edge of a chair and looked at him expectantly. "I'd love to assist."

"I need you to come to me today. Everything that can be done for Alex, is. There's not much more to be done than what has been already. Now, speak no more of him, and let's get on with this. I will only save him, once he returns, if you love me, you know. If you really love me."

He's going nuts, Dustin thought. How can he possibly think that I love him? He raised his eyes to Spender's face, trying to look as affectionate as possible, while he debated the wisdom of cutting and running.

"Oh, yes. You said that you had work for me. What are we going to do, sir?"

At the mention of the job at hand, Spender smiled. "Remember the doctor you wanted to kill? The one who turned Alyosha into Alexei? He's become something of a... liability. You asked to see him before, with a certain intent. The time has come. You know what to do."

Spender squeezed Dustin's shoulder. "I know it will make you feel better."

Nodding silently, Dustin sipped his water and allowed himself to relax a little. Maybe he'd make it through the day after all. He put his glass down and stood up.

"Okay, sir, I'm ready. Have knife, will slice..."

Spender smiled. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off his desk, along with his keys. "Come, then."

When the driver let them out at the apartment complex, Spender walked into the building with Dustin. "His apartment is number 306. I'll wait here for you." He indicated a reception area. "Go on up; he should recognize you. If not, he will once you start talking to him..." He squeezed Dustin's shoulder. "You can do it."

As Dustin knocked on the door, his stomach was squirming with the horrors that he had undergone, and that he had imagined that day. As the door opened and the old man led him indoors, he reflected that this was the one who, above all the others, owed Alex a life. Listening to the confused ramblings, he thought that it was a sad pity that he wouldn't know that his debt was about to be paid.

Wertzgaard pulled Dustin into the room, seating him in the plushest chair. He slowly hobbled over to the pantry to get a drink. "Alyosha, he was such a happy boy. Always eager to please and so quick, so sharp! Sometimes you knew he didn't want to do as we asked, but he did it... to please, to earn his reward. You remind me of him, a little bit. You have eyes like his. Such intense eyes! Oh, I loved gazing into those eyes. Alexei, now, there was a boy... ah, here we are." He had hobbled back over to Dustin with a glass of brandy. He sat down in the wingchair opposite him. "He wanted to please too... he could charm a stone, and then kill you, without a second thought, smiling the whole time he did it. You'd tell him anything, to get him to favor you. Oh, I miss him... he told me he loved me sometimes, and I'd hold him..."

"Yeah?" Dustin's eyes were bright, his smile as feral as a snarl. "After everything you did to him? How could you use a little boy like that? You ought to be ashamed." He sat on the couch and stared at the old man, willing him to realize that his past had found him. "Such a quick, clever boy," Wertzgaard said. "Called me Pappy... he asked me to save him. But he's going to save the world, you know... keep world peace and harmony. He never seemed to know how special he was, though." He looked at Dustin. "Isn't that strange? He never knew. He only... shivered. And his dreams... I tried to program him to be quiet and still, and forget... I succeeded, after awhile. I made four compartments and put parts of him in each. He was happier then. Slept through the night. Spender was happier, too. Said he was - slicker."

"Of course that's the important thing, isn't it? Keeping Spender happy!" Dustin wanted to scream, but he kept his voice low. "You tore him to pieces to keep Spender happy? How many more little boys did you damage beyond repair? How could you live with yourself?"

Dustin stood up and began to prowl back and forth as he spoke. His knife was in his hand now, but he was too agitated to use it.

Wilheim watched Dustin as he paced. "Spender was in charge of the whole thing. He knew what he wanted. He brought them in; I did as he asked. Alyosha was my favorite though..." He trailed off. "You have the same tone Alexei had when he was angry. And he would always pace, just like you're doing now... he sometimes would get so angry... we made him stop that, though. With guilt and anxiety... he had to keep the balance, you know. Do you know how that works? It needs to be done with care. Other kids... yes. But they were my canvas. Alyosha was the paint... Alexei, the masterpiece. He wanted a Sascha, too... a killer. That was easy. Take all his anger out at once. Then Alex, the ... my sweet Alex. I haven't seen him in so long. Do you know where he is now? He's doing well, I hope?"

Dustin suddenly seized the old man by the shoulder and brandished his knife at him. "Don't you ever regret what you did? Don't you ever cry for my Alex?"

"Y - your Alex? What do you mean, your Alex? You had nothing to do with him. You're far too young. We made him. I did the best job I could, and he turned out perfectly. Why would I cry for him? The day he turned ten, I threw him a party. He had finally learned to shoot with extreme accuracy, and he knew where to..."

Wilheim stared at the knife in Dustin's hand. "That was the day I gave him that knife. What... are you..."

He looked up into Dustin's eyes, shakily. "Alexei?" he said slowly. "Alexei, is it you? Dear one, you know I would never hurt you. We did our best for you. Didn't you like your party, and all your presents? Your Daddy is very proud."

The old man smiled, as he had on Alyosha's tenth birthday, the day he became Alexei. In his mind, it was that day, so long ago.

"Why are you crying, Alexei? This is a happy day. You have a new name now. You're getting to be a big boy now. Come, let's go have some cake." He began to stand up, and shuffle towards the kitchen.

Dustin couldn't stand it any more. This crazy old man had tormented his lover until he'd fragmented his personality, but now he was as fragmented and pathetic as his poor subject. Dustin stepped up behind the old man and hit him on the head with the hilt of his knife. Somehow, the blade was too good for the wreckage of the doctor. Dustin grabbed a cushion from the couch and laid it over the stunned man's face, leant on it and waited. After a very long time, the old man's pulse had stopped; he stood up, dusted himself off, and left. Spender watched as Dustin approached a few minutes later. Strangely, he didn't look as happy as he had thought he would be... he looked deep in thought. There wasn't the same gleam in his eye as there had been with LaPierre. Spender walked over to him. "Did he give you a problem, my boy?" he asked in a kindly voice. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Hurt me? N-no..." Dustin was lost in thought. "No problem, sir. He was no trouble. It's just that he was so... so confused. He didn't appreciate that he'd done anything wrong. He didn't have a clue who I was, or why I hate him. It was all for nothing." Dustin climbed back into the car and surveyed Spender. "You think that I'm pathetic, don't you?"

"Pathetic? No. Well," Spender smiled as he climbed into the car and the driver started them back home, "maybe a little. You're a boy with a crush. It's really rather... sweet." Spender fixed Dustin with his gaze. "But are you beginning to see now why your love is wasted on Alex? He can never love you back, or give you what you want. He'll only use you, and then turn on you. That's what he does. I mean, let's face it. A boy with his looks, and he hasn't settled down yet... he's not a man. He's a program. The sooner you realize that, the happier you'll be."

Spender looked out the window. "Wertzgaard was tasked with dehumanizing Alyosha, and I think... I know he did a good job."

Grinding his teeth, Dustin told himself to wait. He couldn't do anything yet. He had to get the information the meeting that afternoon would provide.

"Good enough, I guess. He's dead now, sir. Do we go to the meeting now, or back to the house?"

"Well, we need to go to the house to pick up some things, and then actually they'll be coming to us. After this there is another meeting in Washington. You'll have some time to rest between them, I think. Then the party. You've been to a few of those before." ~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Dustin had bathed and changed yet again. He'd been told to dress in Alex's clothing, and when he'd gotten back to his room, Alex's clothes had been lying on the bed, awaiting him. When he'd buried his nose in them, he could smell the faint and indefinable scent that was his lover.

The summons to the library had come shortly after he'd changed, and he surveyed himself in the mirror before going down the stairs to join his nemesis. Try as he might, he couldn't achieve Alex's feral smile. He wondered if that mattered.

Turning, he descended the staircase, hoping that he was going to be up to whatever the Smoker had in mind.

"Dustin! There you are. Looking every inch like Alex. Good, good. The man we are going to see will know you as Alex Krycek, and he -- doesn't like Alex much. He's Fox Mulder's boss, and he's requested a meeting. I'm not terribly sure what for - he didn't specify. But... he's been under our control for a while now. Wonder what he could want?"

He led the way outside, to his sedan, and climbed in. "Don't you?"

He started the engine.

Dustin attempted a smile, and failed.

"Of course I'm interested." He joined the smoker, taking the passenger's seat as the Smoker pulled the car away. "Is this person important?" he asked.

Fox Mulder. Dustin had heard that name. He was the FBI agent who had beaten Alex again and again. Alex had loved him, and Dustin was sure that he would have problems meeting him face to face, particularly if he had to be civil.

"He's important to keeping Fox Mulder where we want him," Spender replied. "As Mulder's boss..."

He looked at Dustin. "You know, I believe there's going to be an FBI audit of the X-Files. Should be interesting."

He lit a cigarette, not bothering to roll down his window. "What do you know about Fox Mulder?"

Dustin thought fast. Fox Mulder... Fox Mulder...?

He had it.

"He's the son of a ranking Consortium official. Alex was sent in to neutralize his attempts to expose the project, but met with mixed success, and is still in place within the FBI. I think that he and Alex had a love affair. Alex certainly seemed to be really taken with him, though I don't know if he returned the affection." Dustin drew breath. He had marked Fox Mulder down for his attentions. To disguise his emotions, he turned to wind down the window of the car and void the smoke that was coming from the old man's cigarette.

Spender smiled. "Ah! You've read the files I gave you about Alex. I didn't know if you would, after the look you gave me when I handed them to you." He smiled, thinly.

"Yes, Alex and Fox were lovers. Fox never loved him as well as Alex loved Fox, but then... could anyone love Alex? Present company excluded, of course. I love Alex, but... no one else can understand him. How could they?"

Spender took another drag, and continued. "Fox's mother was the only woman I ever came close to loving. Her son could save the world, but before I could tell her that..." He broke off for several moments.

He looked at Dustin after awhile. "Do you remember how Alex lost his arm?"

Spender smiled. "No, Fox didn't cut off his arm. Alex... Alex always tried to help Fox. I fear he had a puppyish crush, rather as you do, now. He was... younger then. More... anyway. Mulder felt that his betrayal was such that he could never forgive him, or trust him. Despite the help that my Alex gave him... Fox refused to see it. He basically made Alex take him to Russia, and Alex would have given him what he wanted... had he been patient."

He looked at Dustin. "Alex paid for that impatience with his arm. Fox was rewarded with eternal life... of a sort." He looked to Dustin again. "What will you cost Alex, and what will you gain?"

"Cost him?" Again Dustin frowned. The question made him nervous. "I don't want to cost him anything. I want to give him things. Too many people have taken too much from him. It's time someone gave to him. I'll gain happiness. I don't know what else. I don't need anything else. I have all that I need." He fell silent again, knowing that if the old man was in the wrong kind of mood his answer would enrage him, but not knowing what else to say.

"You want to give to him." Sender took a deep drag on his cigarette, carefully stubbed it out in the dashboard ashtray, and lit another.

Once he had decided that Dustin had been held on tenterhooks long enough, he smiled, the kind of smile that Dustin knew wasn't a smile at all, or even a smirk. More like a stifled sneer.

"Alex is devoted to you, you would say. He once told me he wanted to protect you, to help you. What do you know of the fate of those who he seeks to help, to protect? And why did he choose to protect you? I never understood that." Spender's eyes drifted back to the road as he continued. "You don't seem to be what he usually looks for, to protect, although the likeness you share..."

"I don't know why? All I can say is that I care for him. I don't know the reasons for any of it." Dustin grinned. "Maybe someone should do a study on us, write a paper. Wouldn't that be a kick?"

He lapsed into his thoughts again. This Fox Mulder was a person he suddenly really wanted to meet. He'd show the bastard that Alex was not to be hurt.

Spender suddenly turned and backhanded Dustin's face, hard. He returned his gaze to the road with barely a pause.

"There's always a reason."

Raising a hand to his bleeding lip, Dustin contemplated stabbing the man where he sat. No. That wouldn't do. He didn't have all the information he needed quite yet. Soon maybe but not now.

He glowered, and looked out of the window, biding his time.

Spender turned onto the Beltway and looked at Dustin out of the corner of his eye.

The boy's becoming more submissive, he thought. No. He could feel his anger, and knew he must be fighting a violent urge. But he didn't lash out. Why didn't he?

"I will have your reason from you," he said.

"When you get it, how about sharing it?" muttered Dustin, watching the buildings flash past them as they headed into town. As they crossed the river he whirled at last to face the Smoker. "Love just is. There are no hidden secrets. It just happens. Have you never loved?"

The smoker looked straight ahead. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I have." Spender swallowed as he continued to drive towards the Hoover building.

"What happened?" Dustin's voice was gentle as he watched the old man's profile. "You must have been hurt."

"I... she was beautiful," Spender replied. "A beautiful person in every sense of the word. Caring and loving... kind, oh so kind. If anything or anyone ever tried to hurt her..."

He swallowed again. "She called me a bastard and left me when she... had to stick to her beliefs and go her own way."

He sighed. "She never was much for pragmatism."

"And you are the ultimate pragmatist. That I've realized. Does it still hurt you?" Dustin's forehead had creased in puzzlement. The old man was human after all. He didn't know that he liked that particular revelation. He'd preferred it when he could demonize the bastard. Now it was going to take far more effort to do what he'd planned.

"It hurts. Every time I would see her it hurt. Her eyes... hate and fury where there once was such love." He looked at Dustin for a moment, then back at the road. "She killed herself, earlier this year."

There was a long pause. The buildings they flew by now were offices, great slabs of concrete and glass. Dustin didn't speak and the Smoker continued to propel the sleek black vehicle. As they neared the downtown core, Dustin finally gave in and asked his question.

"Why? What did you do to her?"

Spender looked at Dustin. "To her? Nothing. I'd have given her the world. In fact, I was trying to..."

Spender paused for a moment, considering how much to tell Dustin.

"She was Fox Mulder's mother."

"His mother?" Dustin's husky voice was baffled. "You had an affair? She chose her husband in the end? Man, that's harsh. Women are always enigmas. I've never understood how they think. Why didn't she choose you?" They were close to their destination now, and Dustin felt that he was learning more about his saturnine captor than ever before.

"No, she left Bill, too," Spender said curtly. "At least I was honest about what needed to be done, and that I felt it was right. Bill was a ditherer and a hypocrite."

Spender drove into the parking garage under the FBI building, feeling the gloom within cloak them. Somehow, it felt appropriate.

As he pulled into a vacant space, he looked over at Dustin. "Sometimes, love is... a curse, not a gift." He opened his door and stepped out.

No shit, thought Dustin. I wonder what made her leave them. He must have done something terrible, and that doesn't surprise me in the least.

He followed the old man as he made his way into the building and through the maze of offices to the boear room where the meeting was to be held.

Spender looked at Dustin as they walked. "You know, sometimes you lose all you love by sticking to your convictions. But in this case, I believed I was doing the right thing. I had to."

He walked into the room and looked around. Skinner was sitting behind his desk.

"Hello, Mr. Skinner," Spender said, taking the liberty of sitting across from him in a facing chair and lighting a cigarette after glancing at the "No Smoking: plate on the desk.

:It's been quite some time. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

He motioned for Dustin to sit beside him.

The look that the man behind the desk gave Dustin was the kind that would curl paint. Dusty permitted himself to smile at the sour-faced man and wondered exactly what Alex had done to earn this kind of reaction. Taking a seat, and lounging back, he prepared to take in whatever information he could glean from the meeting.

"I'm glad that you've brought your trained Rottweiler with you. It will save me a lot of trouble repeating myself. I want you to call him off. It's making my job impossible, and I will be no use to either Mulder or to you if I am compromised." The bald man sneered at Dustin as he spoke.

"Call him off," Spender said. He knew he had to act like he knew what was going on to learn anything here.

"What will that gain us? Or you?"

The bald man flared, anger glowed in his eyes, red coals that flickered in obsidian pupils. His mouth set grimly. "He can kill me next time. He's done it once. You might as well tell him to do it right now and put me out of my misery." The bulge in this Skinner's jaw was testament to his teeth grinding in fury.

Spender looked at Skinner dispassionately. "Killed you?" He took a drag. "You seem very much alive to me."

The sound of the ham-like fist striking the table made Dustin sit up a little straighter.

"You know damned fine what I'm talking about. Ever since you had him infect my blood with the nanotechnology, he's been playing games with my life. I died in the hospital. I died for several minutes before he brought me back. He's a fucking sadist, and so are you." Skinner shoved his chair back and moved to stand by the window with his back to Dustin, but every line radiated indignation.

"A sadist?" Spender's lips twisted. "You wound me, Mr. Skinner. Don't you know that everything I do, I do for a reason?" He gave him an indulgent look. "I know you think we mean you and your agents harm. Nothing could be further from the truth."

He looked at Dustin briefly.

"Alex, here. Has he not been pivotal to several investigations?"

"That's as maybe. I'm asking you to make him back off before my superiors discover what I've been doing. It won't avail you anything if I am dismissed from the FBI, and it will be positively injurious to you if I give evidence against you at my trial, wouldn't you say?" Skinner walked around the table and stooped to growl into the Smoker's face. "Call him off, for all our sakes."

Spender looked at Dustin, smirking. "Ah, making threats. You're usually so even-temperd, M. Skinner. You only threaten when you're backed into a corner. Well, now. I propose a deal. You like deals, don't you, Mr. Skinner?"

"Tell me your deal, Mr. Spender." Skinner looked grimmer than ever. "Get this... vermin out of my life, and we can discuss a way forward. He's applying too much pressure - the things that he wants from me are getting me noticed. They have already got me noticed. I have the Director on my tail all the time now. It has to stop."

Spender looked at Dustin.. "Have you been going too far?" He smiled menacingly at him.

Turning back to Skinner, Spender said, :If he has, he's not following orders. What is it he wants?"

"He takes all the evidence Mulder unearths. He has me destroy things that are documented, and sooner or later they will prove that it's me. He had me destroy a body for him once." Skinner's voice was thick with outrage. "He's started to demand the X-Files, a piece at a time. I'll be discovered; I know it."

Spender looked to Dustin. "Where is it?" he said. "Been freelancing, have you?" He rose in apparent fury and looked at Skinner.

"It will stop," he said.

All that Dustin could do was to glare at Spender, challenging. His chin went up, and at that moment, he felt himself in very truth Alex. Smiling a slow smile at Skinner, he stood, turned, and backed to stand by the door, from where he stood and observed the two men who were still locked in their discussion.

Spender turned as Dustin looked at him. In his fury, he'd become Alex. He walked over to Dustin, and looked at Skinner. "I need to talk to Alex for a moment. Excuse us." He walked out of the room.

Dustin fixed Skinner with a long, sly look before following his temporary boss out.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I don't understand."

Spender took Dustin's hand and led him into another room... a bathroom. When they were inside, he pressed Dustin against the wall. "I don't know, but maybe you better ... damn. What were you doing, Alexei?"

Sender ran his hands over Dustin's body. "He's afraid, Alex. You've got him scared. What the hell are you up to?" For Spender, Dustin was Alex now, and he drew back and slapped him.

"What did I tell you, boy?"

Dustin shoved the man back. "Dustin. My name is Dustin. Are you mad?" He shivered and crossed his arms as he held himself. "I'm a fucking movie producer, in case you've forgotten. Alex is in Tunisia. Come on. Give me a break."

"Well then, movie producer," Spender said, "produce a way to find out what's going on here. I need you to get to him, to find out where those files are, and what Alex did with the nanotechnology. Its incredibly important."

"Okay, massa boss! I'll do whatever you want. I don't have a clue how, but you know that I'll die trying. Hopefully you're gonna explain what you can to me first though?" Dustin was angry now. More than angry, he was completely baffled. He felt that he'd fallen down some nightmarish rabbit hole. "What the hell is nanotechnology anyway?" he asked, desperately.

Spender had grown hard at Dustin's outburst, tingling as he imagined taking him against the wall, making him call him 'Daddy.' He could do that...

He slowly moved closer to Dustin, smirking, deliberately keeping him off balance. He reached out and caressed Dustin's cheek. "My boy. I gave you that book to read. Have we not been doing our homework?" He moved in until he was in Dustin's body space, shoving him against the wall. He pressed his hard cock against him. "What kind of movie producer are you, if you don't know what nanotechnology is?"

Dustin, smelling of leather, like Alex. Dustin, between him and a wall, as Alex had been, many times. "Alexei..." Spender whispered, almost inaudibly as he pressed himself harder against Dustin.

"Dustin. Not Alexei, Dustin." Dustin felt the old man grind against him in dismay. How come the old fart never seemed to tire? He sighed.

"I'm not to blame if I don't know about this shit. You've never given me any books on nanotechnology. I know about getting stars to make movies. I know about scripts. I don't know about science fiction and the FBI."

"I miss you, Alexei..." Spender whispered. He might not have heard Dustin. He stroked his back softly. "Come on, sweet Alexei. Be good for your Daddy, who loves you very much. Tell me what games you've been playing, hmm?"

His lust was strong, and he moved to fondle Dustin's cock through his jeans. "You know what would make Daddy happy?"

CSM unzipped his fly. "Darling boy... you break my heart. Why do you have to go behind your Daddy's back?"

"I don't understand. I'm Dustin. I'm Dustin." Dustin shoved at the old man, and screamed the words at him. "I'm not him. I'm me. Don't you understand?"

Blinking as he came to himself, Spender cradled Dustin in his arms. "Hush now, baby. I know you're Dustin. I'm sorry. You just... for a moment..."

He kissed Dustin's cheek softly. "Come on, baby. Make me happy, and I'll tell you about the nanocytes."

Dustin found himself shaking as the old man held him. Without wishing it, tears started up in his eyes and he dashed his hand over his eyes to remove the evidence of weakness.

"I'm not Alex," he mumbled. He didn't know what to think, except that he had to get out of the situation. He had to. He couldn't do this any more. Unable to think, he dropped to his knees numbly intent on servicing the old satyr yet again.

"That's my good baby boy. Oh, yes. You know how to please your Daddy, don't you, Dustin? Here you go." He held his stiff cock out for Dustin to suck, wrapping a fist in his hair. "Your hair is a bit longer than his..."

Spender moaned as Dustin took his cock, and began to explain. "Nanocytes are tiny robots that are small enough to fit inside a man's body. They can perform various tasks, from healing wounds inside the body on the fly, to causing damage, to eating cholesterol or other undesirables in the body. Some hope to use them to cure cancer. Of course, they could also be used for evil... and it seems Alex was doing that to Skinner. What we need to find out is why, and what he was doing."

Sucking on the old man's dick, Dustin was trying to imagine why and how Alex would do such a thing. He said nothing, merely clinging grimly to the old man's thighs as he sucked.

Spender moaned softly, thrusting into Dustin's mouth as he held him close with his arm around his shoulders. "Good, boy, you know how to please Daddy. So good... Alex didn't tell you anything about that, did he?"

Shaking his head, Dustin mulled over what the old man was saying. "He never said anything to me about any of this. There was never time. He hardly even had time to talk about us." He sank down onto his heels, a picture of dejection. It was suddenly beginning to come home to him that he was never going to see his lover again.

Spender pulled Dustin back to his cock. "It must have been a strong love. Like when I met Teena, when Bill took me home to meet his family, during our time in the Army... she was a flower, beautiful and delicate, and I knew I wanted to hold her, protect her, make her happy, worship her..."

Dustin reapplied to himself to the dick at his lips. There didn't seem to be anything to say. He wished that it were Alex here with him now, rather than this vile old man. Tonight he would run. Tonight.

Spender held Dustin as he increased his thrusts. The boy looked so much like Alex... so much. He growled as he felt his balls tighten up. "Who's your Daddy, boy? Who?"

His ass clenched a few final times, and he grasped and held Dustin's head as he came, all but pouring his jism down the younger man's throat, thrusting deeper.

Dustin swallowed the mess, and then slowly resumed his feet. He felt miserable - totally without hope. He'd come to the conclusion that his lover and he would never again be together. All his hopes had crashed.

"What are we to do about this Mr. Skinner?"

"I suppose we just go back in there and... the nanobots are controlled remotely, with a Palm Pilot device. We don't have the one Alex Krycek would have been using, but... if we can find a way to find out what Mulder was working on... I can get you another one." Spender tucked his now flaccid cock into his pants, and rezipped. "That was wonderful, by the way. You're a quick learner."

"Glad I could please," mumbled Dustin, sourly. His mind was numb, and he wanted to run now, not stay in this bastard's company. He held onto his fright and misery, trying not to show it as he followed the old man back into Skinner's office.

"Krycek wishes to know what Mulder has been working on lately," Spender said to Skinner as he resumed his seat, taking out his cigarettes and lighting one.

The look that Skinner gave to Dustin would have caused him to combust spontaneously if the AD had had any ESP whatsoever. As it was, it made Dustin shiver. So many people who hated his love. What chance did he have? How would he ever be able to help Alex, even if they did find each other once again? He stared at Skinner, his hands in his pockets. As the other man glowered, he smiled. If he felt bad, he'd pass it on. That might make him feel better.

Spender leaned back in his chair. Taking a drag, he looked at Skinner. "Mr. Skinner. Your look is enough to scorch a man's face. I have talked to my Rottweiler, as you put it, and I think you should be talking to him, not me."

He smiled encouragingly at Dustin.

Dustin shivered again, and his chin went up. "Mulder is dangerous. You know that. What's he got that I don't know about?"

"He hasn't done anything more since you took the pieces from the alien artifact away from him. I don't know anything that will help you."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" There was honey in Dustin's voice, and a thick menace behind it that made both Skinner and the Smoker look at him.

"I'll get his files." Skinner was suddenly conciliating.

Spender smiled. "Would you? I'm sure we'll be most accommodating."

He smiled at Dustin, thinly. Impressive boy, in more ways than one.

Skinner buzzed for his secretary, and a few short minutes later Kim appeared with a bunch of manila folders.

"These are Agent Mulder's recent cases, sir," she said.

Placing them on the desk, she left.

Spender took the files, and thumbed through them. He passed them to Dustin. "This look like what you need?"

Dustin's heart leapt as he opened the file. Hypnotic debriefing of an agent Scully following a weird close encounter, and there was a name. Dr. Heitz Werber. An expert in the field. Dustin committed that name to memory. After a few moments, he closed the folder. He'd find this Dr. Werber and get him to help Alex, if ever Alex returned to him.

Spender turned to Skinner. "That is an old file; interesting to be sure. But old. We want recent files."

He thought for a moment. Unless it was pertinent to...

He looked at Skinner. "What has he been doing, lately? Where is he now?"

"He's in Oregon." Skinner's voice betrayed his extreme dislike of the visitors that he was forced to entertain. "I don't know what he's doing there. He's supposedly being audited.

Spender smirked, and chuckled a bit. "So I've heard. What triggered that?"

"It's procedure. Agent Mulder isn't exempt from it, any more than I am. Well, Mr. Spender, do you think you can assist me with my... problem?" Skinner glared at Dustin once again.

"I can, if the information you gave me is good. I think Alex has to make sure it's correct, and then he will help you." Spender took a drag, looking at Dustin.

"I think that's a given," murmured Dustin, rising to his feet.

Spender followed suit, and left the office.

Turning to Dustin, he said, "Skinner's not a bad man, really. He's a suit, though. You know the type."

Spender reached for the folder in Dustin's hand.

Striding up and down in an attempt to calm himself, Dustin was shaking. He wanted to scream at the man who was sitting so calmly on Alyosha's bed. He wanted to do something... anything to have the old man realize just what pain he had inflicted on one, poor lonely scrap of humanity. The sheer callous brutality of the treatment had completely fazed him.

He'd swung around ready to loose his fury on the Smoker and was suddenly distracted by the photograph album on the dresser. Picking it up, he began to turn the leaves.

"What is this? Who are they?"

Spender smiled his thin inscrutable smile, that was often all too telling. "Take a guess, Dustin. Who do you think that is?" He took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag.

"It looks so like him like me. Is it his parents?" Dustin leafed through, searching for photographs of the lost little boy who had grown up to become Alex Krycek. "He was so sad. I don't understand how you could do that to him."

He sat down on the stool beside the dresser, and began to study the photos in detail, drinking in the old fashioned clothing and the tender expressions on the face of his lover's mother.

"Sir? What happened to his parents?"

Spender grabbed the photo album from Dustin with sudden speed and strength. "His parents were traitors, first to their country, then to ours. Then to the Consortium itself, ultimately. In return for our misguided protection, for both themselves and their son, they gave us Alex and left the country. I told them we would prevent harm to Alex by the Russians, and I did... until they betrayed again. They were slippery, as slippery as their son. I believe they are dead now. But you know that. Marita told me that she told you of how Alex came to live with me." He looked at Dustin.

"I know you think he's innocent. But his parents were not. And... we had a need of him, to become what he did, a killer and... you know. He served us well, and saved many lives. In the end, isn't the collective good of more importance than that of the individual?"

He leaned back, smoking.

"I'd like to read these. Is that possible?" Dustin indicated the journal. "I'd like to see how he felt as he grew. I want to understand." He attempted to show his nemesis a mild, non confrontational expression, although his disgust threatened to break free at every minute.

He strode around the room, looking in the drawers and finding small clothes, little possessions and pathetic treasures.

Spender smiled indulgently. "Sure, my boy. You can have what you want of his, if he means all that much to you. That's why I brought you here, you know. So you can see who he really is. What he is."

Spender squinted at him. "You still think he's capable of love. I tell you, he's not. He uses people. He doesn't love."

He looked towards one of the drawers. "In there are letters from various doctors. Every one was so impressed with him. By pitting him against older boys, he got very quick for his age. Very... sly. One step ahead, and sneaky. It's how he is now."

Keeping his face carefully neutral, Dustin collected Alex's journal, his photographs, and a small folder of drawings. As an afterthought he picked up the teddy bear and tucked it under his arm.

"Thanks for letting me see. It's given me lots to think about."

Spender nodded, reaching into his pocket. "Suppose what I did to him as wrong, though," he said softly. "What I did to her, to everyone. What if all I've believed in was false..." He shrugged. "Not that it ever could be false, of course. But sometimes..." He got up and walked over to the shelf by the window, picking up a model airplane. He turned it over in his fingers absently yet deliberately. "Alex made this when he was nine. Isn't it beautiful? He's as finely tuned as the Pratt and Whitney engines that power this jet. As finely tuned, and at least as delicate."

He turned to Dustin. "This whole operation is like that. You know. You've seen. Join us, Dustin. Forget Alex, and become my protégé. I'll leave it all to you, boy. You've impressed me."

He swallowed tightly. "I'm dying, Dustin. I have cancer."

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir." Dustin was not sure what he was hearing. Did the old beast expect him to somehow become as amoral and unfeeling as he was? "I won't ever be able to forget Alex though. It just isn't possible."

He stood and walked over to the door.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

Spender had anticipated that. He stood up, walking to stand behind and beside Dustin. "What if you didn't have to?" he asked softly. "What if I let you have Alex, when I'm gone?"

He smirked, a smirk Dustin couldn't see.

Either way, boy, I'll have won.

Turning slowly, Dustin stared at the old man, his arms around the relics of his lover's unhappy boyhood. "I don't think that I understand. How could that be?" His mind raced. It was a trick. It had to be. The old man would never allow him to win out. He just wasn't that kind of person. "I don't want to lie to you. I love Alex, and I can't switch that on and off to suit another, however much I'm offered."

Spender smiled broadly. "You wouldn't have to. After I'm gone, you would have Alex, to do with as you please. Beat him, kill him... or love him. It would be up to you. He'd be yours. Isn't that what you wanted? Just help me wrap up a few things first. I really need your help, Dustin," he said, coughing slightly.

He lit yet another cigarette and took a drag, despite his cough.

Still feeling very wary, Dustin stood, weighing up the pros and cons of even listening to the man. Reluctantly, he returned to sit on Alyosha's little bed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" He knew, even as he spoke that it was a bad idea.

"You know what to do, Dustin. Stay beside me, learn what you can. Work in the Consortium with me, for me."

He smiled, holding out his pack of Morley's. "Cigarette?"

"I I don't smoke. Never did." Dustin was so taken aback by the gesture that he didn't know what to do. "Work for the Consortium how, precisely?" His mind raced. "If Alex could come back to me now..."

His voice trailed away as he mused. Please let Alex come home to him...

Spender smiled, a smile that would chill the soul. "I'm sorry, Dustin. But Alex is needed elsewhere right now. But, as I say, he'll be yours after I... die."

He placed the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket. "How can you work for us? Well, I know you're an excellent assassin. And, shall we say, your... oral skills... are exemplary. I don't think I would wish you to do more than that though." He moved close behind Dustin, hissing in his ear as he caressed his ass and side. "I like you for my own far too much." He straightened up again. "But, you please me, you please some of the men tonight, maybe kill a few, tonight or down the line..." Spender shrugged. "You could be my star pupil."

There seemed to be nothing else to say. Alex would not be returned to him, and he would not be able to stomach the suggested prostitution that the Smoker was inferring would be his duty. His mind was set. He would not stay any longer than was necessary in order to get these belongings of Alex's away.

He hung his head. "I wish he could be here. I wish I could share this with him." Then he tilted his chin in the familiar, arrogant manner that Alex did. "Thank you for your offer, sir," he said, ambiguously.

Spender leaned in for a kiss. "You do look and act so like him. He'd be so proud of his Little Cub, you know. He told me once you and he could be partners. Of course I laughed at him, but now I can see it. He could use a partner, at times, and just think..."

He cupped Dustin's cheek in his hand. "You think that Alex loves you so much, don't you? Do you know how much he loves you? I know I can trust you with him."

He put his arm around Dustin, ushering him out of the room. "I've got to get dressed - so should you. Again, as Alex. Come to the library when you're ready, and we'll be off." He smiled.

The tux fitted to perfection, and Dustin looked every inch what he was, an urbane movie producer, ready to attend a high profile party. Inside his head, he was terrified, and his body would barely obey him. Tonight. It had to be tonight.

He'd packed as many of his things as he could, and Alex's belongings were safely packed with them.

As he approached the Smoker's study, he felt sick.

Spender looked up. "Dustin! Dustin my boy. Looking as good as ever. Honestly, you clean up so nicely. Come her, and let me look at you."

Spender's eyes roamed Dustin's body. He watched Dustin approach his desk with an avid gaze. "Beautiful."

Grinning, Dustin did a twirl for him. "I usually wear a summer tux, but this one fits really well. Thanks." He sat in one of the chairs and crossed his legs. "What time will the guests arrive?"

"Anytime." Just then there was a chime from the front door, and they could hear Greta answer it. Spender smiled. "That'll be Hatcher, the old lecher. He's a biologist, but he always loves good-looking young men. He might want you, but don't go to him unless he gives you a fetus. A blowjob for some raw DNA, but he can only have you for a fetus."

Spender smiled. "Which he won't get, as I know he'll never give me that. Don't look so frightened, boy. Blowjobs are easy. How often have you sucked me off? Nothing to it."

"A fetus? What the hell would I do with a fetus?" The whole idea seemed oddly surreal to Dustin. He attempted to wrap his mind around the concept. "I'd really rather not go around sucking men off. It's not exactly the most fun I've ever had."

Spender had to chuckle a little. Perhaps the boy envisaged Hatcher giving him a fetus in saline solution, right there at the party. "A hybrid fetus, Dustin. Remember, when we went to Fort Detterick, and... but don't worry. I won't give you anything you can't handle."

Spender crossed his legs and clasped his hands over his knee, looking at Dustin levelly. "Come here, Dustin," he said.

At Dustin's look, Spender smiled again. "Look. These men sometimes need a little, um, incentive... not even that. See, they have a stake in Alexei, too, they believe. They feel his life is forfeit for his parents', and... well, they feel entitled to it. You wanted to be like Alex. You said that."

He watched Dustin with an amused smirk on his lips.

Warily, Dustin made his way across to where the Smoker was sitting. "You aren't going to start selling me to the old guys, are you? Can't I just kill them?" The thought of a little boy being forced to make restitution for his parents supposed errors of judgment was almost too much for him. "They deserve to die. All of them, for what they've done."

"Do they?" Spender asked urbanely. "The Russians certainly didn't think so. When they got a hold of Alexei, they made us look downright wholesome. I wept to think of some of the things that they did to Alexei while he was there. But the die had been cast - there was nothing for it."

Spender looked at Dustin. "You've heard that politicians are a cutthroat and evil bunch. Now you know."

He lit a cigarette. "Sure you don't want one?"

"But why?" He waved the proffered pack of Morleys away, curtly. "Why would they hurt a little boy for crimes someone else had committed? It just doesn't make sense." He began to pace up and down in a manner that indicated that he was trying to get himself under control. "Please, for the last time, let him come home to me?"

"Ah, good anger, Dustin. I'm glad to see it. You know what we did when Alex got angry? We let him kill. And, what luck, there are a few tonight for you. Feel your anger, Dustin. Think of your Alex, scared and alone. Think of him, begging for release." Spender slapped the desk with the flat of his hand and stared into Dustin's eyes, dark in fury.

"Yes! YES! Good!" he almost shouted, sounding somewhat like the director of a film. "That's what I need to see from you."

He softened his voice. "But not yet. Come here, Dustin."

Oh, God. Here we go again, Dustin thought to himself. Dustin shook his head angrily. "Don't you ever get enough?" He flounced across to where the old man was sitting.

Spender took Dustin's arm, guiding him to his knees. He took his head in his hands, looking at him earnestly. "The question is, do you," he said evenly. He guided Dustin's face to his for a kiss, then had Dustin sit back on his heels. "I rather enjoy seeing you this way, on your knees before me. Go on; do it." He unzipped his pants and moaned as Dustin bent to take him into his mouth.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Expecting Greta, Spender said, "Leave us, please," but the other did not leave.

It was Hatcher. "You always did enjoy the young man, didn't you?" he asked pleasantly, coming up behind Dustin. "He does good work, too."

Dustin raised his head. This was too much for him. "Sir?" he asked. Why did he have to endure this? Only another hour or so and he would be gone from here. Sighing, he bent to his task again, wishing fervently that he could bite hard, and sever the demanding old man's dick. This was the last time he would ever do this.

Spender wrapped an arm around Dustin's shoulders, holding him and shielding him from Hatcher. "Oh, yes," he moaned. "Oh..." He grinned at Hatcher. "You know I love the boy. Why shouldn't he show me affection in return?"

Hatcher grinned lewdly, beginning to unzip his pants, staring at Dustin's ass, exposed as he sucked. He withdrew his cock and began stroking it. He took a step closer, placing a hand on Dustin's back.

Spender moved forward, snake quick, brushing Hatcher's hand off Dustin. "No," he said firmly. "You don't get to fuck him tonight. Not until you give me the fetus. Or agree to it."

"WHAT?" Hatcher said, rearing back. "You presume to say who can..."

"Yes, I do," Spender said calmly, stroking Dustin's hair. "And who can't, as well." He pumped his hips a little. "He's good, but he's not cheap."

Oh, great. Dustin shivered. The old fuck hadn't been kidding. He was going to rent out his ass in exchange for DNA and fetuses and stuff. He couldn't do this any more. He renewed his activity, hoping that the old guy would hurry up and get off.

"Enthusiastic, isn't he?" Spender said to Hatcher. "Don't you want him tonight, now? On you? Mouth on your cock, hot and wet.." He sucked in a breath as the thought coincided with the deed. "He's an artist, you know that." He moaned again, trying to hold back.

But Dustin's plight only aroused him further. The big time Hollywood producer was about to find out what being a rent boy was all about - just as he wanted. He'd wanted to be Alex, after all.

He looked at Hatcher. "Imagine that tight ass on your dick. Just for a moment. Think about it. I already know he'll do you the best you've ever had. You've always wanted him. You know what you must give me."

Hatcher's eyes widened as Spender groaned a final time, coming into Dustin's mouth in great gouts.

Spender hugged Dustin to him, as Hatcher said, "All right, goddamnit, but only one. And I get to fuck Alexei."

Spender smirked. "Of course, of course." He tucked his dick, rapidly losing its rigidity, back into his pants, patted Dustin's back, and bent to whisper softly to him. "Give him what he wants, so we'll get what we need. Then, you can kill him later. Go on. You want to be Alex, right? Go be Alex," he said, with that same smirk.

"I can be Alex." Dustin hissed. "But I'm not Alex, and he isn't me." He rose to his feet and stalked out of the room, back towards the dining room. I'm done with this. I won't do it, whatever you say.

Hatcher smiled at Spender, before turning and following "Alexei." He put a hand on the Dustin's shoulder. "How have you been?" he asked jovially. "In the same bedroom as before?" He arched a brow, grinning. "I see you're still being good for your Daddy, Alexei."

"Yeah? And now you think that I'm gonna be good for you? Well, dream on, old man. You can go jerk off and live, or pester me and die. Your choice." Dustin had his hand on the knife in his pocket, and he stood, tall and arrogant, waiting for the man's response.

Hatcher had stopped in his tracks. Alex had never talked back to him before, not like that. He put his arm around him. "Alex? You used to enjoy this. You said you'd run away with me, and come to live with me in Sweden. Did someone make you a better offer?"

"It was me, John," laughed a matronly woman in her forties as she walked past them. "You were going to be my sweet one, weren't you Alex?" She walked around him, smiling at his blank stare. "Surely you remember me -- Stella." She leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a stain of bright red lipstick.

Hatcher scowled. "He's mine for now," he told Stella.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Stella said, winking at Dustin and walking away.

Dustin frowned at the woman and scrubbed at his cheek. This was becoming harder to bear at every moment. He jerked angrily away from Hatcher's embrace.

"You will keep your hands off me. I am not now, nor will I ever again have sex with you. Believe that or not, as you will, but I will walk away from you now, and if you follow me, you are a dead man." Dustin turned, suiting the words to the deed, and walked away, leaving Hatcher standing, astonished.

Hatcher stared for a moment. "Alex. Come back here, right now." He couldn't believe it. Spender had assured him the boy was trained... and he'd been so pliable in the past. What was this?

Not believing Alex would kill him unless given leave to do so, and not knowing that not only wasn't this Alex, but that he had been given leave to do just that, he followed the boy, jerking him into an alcove and shoving him against the wall, holding his throat.

"Remember your place, boy, and your job," he growled. "Now, are you going to do it, or do I have to tell your Daddy you were a bad boy?"

He knew that was a definite threat to Alex, and Alex would quail when he said that.

Dustin smiled seraphically. Leaning forward to place a small peck on Hatcher's nose, he whispered, "What did I say?" As Hatcher frowned, wondering what he meant, Dustin thrust the knife upwards under Hatcher's ribcage to stab into his heart. "Too bad really, isn't it? Too bad that you're stupid. Too bad that you used Alex the way that you did. Too bad that you're a dead man."

He jerked the knife out of Hatcher and, as the old man crumpled and fell, stooped to wipe the blade on his expensive suit.

Hatcher looked up at Alex. "Alex... you're a bad boy..." he croaked out. "This... why are you doing this? Why did you say that about...?"

His head tilted to the side, and his hand flopped, and then was still.

The knife had once more vanished into Dustin's clothing, and he stepped over Hatcher's body, leaving it behind without a second glance. Moving briskly to the bar, he asked for a martini, and stood, sipping it, for all the world as though he were a celebrity surveying a crowd of fans.

Spender had come out of his study, and noticed Dustin at the bar. He walked over to him. "That was quick work, Alex," he said, as Stella walked towards them.

Spender greeted her warmly, taking her hand.

"It's been so long, Stella. How is the research going?"

Stella smiled. "It's going well. We're making new discoveries every day." She turned to Alex, grinning at him.

Spender looked at Dustin. "Did John give you the access codes, or a key?"

"Access codes?" Dustin stared at him. "What access codes? He didn't give me anything." It suddenly dawned on him that he had possibly made a mistake. He wondered what the hell he was going to do now, but he was through with the old man's satyriasis. No more. He would not tolerate it any more.

Stella frowned at him. "Why, the --"

Spender shut her up with a look. "For the fetus. From John. In return for..." his lips recurved, "...services rendered."

Stella gave "Alex" a knowing look, and a smirk. "Don Juan," she said.

Spender scowled at her, and turned back to Dustin, realization dawning. "You didn't do it, did you? You just killed him."

Fury darkened his eyes. "You fool. You stupid, stupid, fool."

He looked at a large man who was walking around with an hors d'oeuvres tray. "Julian," he called.

The man started their way.

Dustin was afraid. He'd miscalculated, and that was bad news. Panic flooded him for a moment. This was it, for sure, unless...

He threw his glass hard at Spender, and ran for it, shoving though the crowd with an ease born of desperation. Leaving the large reception room behind, he rounded the corner into the kitchen. He knew that he would be able to make a break for freedom as long as he had even the slightest amount of luck. He poised behind the door, knife at the ready, waiting for the pursuit that was sure to follow.

"After him," Spender ordered Julian, and the thug ran after Dustin, pushing aside several startled partygoers as he went.

Julian was unhappy. He hated having to run suddenly. He had actually met an interesting lady and had been chatting her up when Spender had called him.

He'd wring the neck of this little brat...

He slowed as he approached the kitchen, walking in carefully. Seeing Dustin, he lunged for him, grabbing his knife hand. "Drop it, and come with me."

Spender appeared behind Julian. "Do it, Dustin."

Fright made Dustin strong. He kicked at Julian's groin, scoring with a blow that caused him to double up, promptly losing interest in the proceedings as he clutched at his balls. Dustin kicked him in the head, gasping as the man became still, and then faced Spender, beginning to smile as he realized that he was in control.

"No more, old man. There will be no more."

Spender moved to him quickly, hissing. "No more what, my boy?"

"No more using me as your fucktoy. No more patronization. No more 'boy'." Dustin faced Spender, wondering whether the old man would fight or run.

Spender lit a cigarette, smirking. "No? What then... Little Cub?"

"I walk away, right now, and you let me go." The downed bodyguard moaned, and Dustin kicked him again.

"No, no," Spender said sadly. "That's not how it goes." He moved swiftly towards Dustin, pinning him against the wall. "A brave attempt. But you gave yourself up; remember? Or do you really want to see your Alex dead?"

Julian moaned again.

"Get up," Spender told him dispassionately.

Julian struggled to his feet, stumbling.

"Hold him."

Spender drew back a hand as Julian held Dustin, and slapped him hard. "You'll do what and who I tell you to. You got that... Boy?" Spender slapped him again. "Get that fire gone from your eyes. It has no place here."

Julian leered. "Pretty boy... trying to run away? You know you can't."

Dustin gritted his teeth and thrust upwards with his knife, slicing into Julian's belly - a jagged slash that spilled his innards out over the enforcer's tux. Turning, he punched out at the Smoker, hitting him in the throat with his left hand. As the old man staggered back, clutching his throat, Dustin stabbed Julian once again, this time in the back of the neck. Then he turned and ran for the place where he had stashed his belongings, and from there, out into the night.

Spender lay on the floor, clutching his throat and gurgling.

Julian lay, holding his neck and his gut, bleeding out rapidly.

Dustin had gathered his bags, and headed for the area where the guests had parked their cars. Nodding to the valet, Michael, he threaded his way through the collection of expensive automobiles.

"Michael, Mr. Hatcher wants these put in his car. Gimme the key, okay?" He held out his hand, grunting his thanks as the other handed over the key in question. Swiftly, he made for the car, and opened the trunk to stow his belongings. As Michael turned away to greet another arrival and park his vehicle, Dustin climbed into the black BMW and started it up, then gunned it, and was gone before Michael had any idea what had happened.

7: Extremis

The Smoker was furious.

He'd miscalculated, and he'd paid the price. For just one day, he'd been beguiled into forgetting that Dustin Yarma and Alex Krycek were different beings, and he had been truly punished for his lapse.

Dustin's blow to his throat his lucky blow, Spender told himself had fractured his hyoid bone, and the party the night before had come to an end as he choked and bled while everyone raced about trying to find medical assistance. By the time it had come, he had been in a bad way; the emergency tracheotomy that had been performed had only just been in time to permit his continued existence.

Today, he was weak enough not to mind sitting in a wheelchair while Greta pushed him along.

There had been no sign of Dustin. The thrice-cursed boy had run, taking with him his sweet ass and vile temper. The one consolation Spender had was knowing that now he wouldn't see Alex, because Alex had made it back into DC just 24 hours too late. The thought made Spender smile savagely to himself.

Krycek had returned like the famous bad penny, and was now in the Watergate Hotel with Covarrubias. She'd done well retrieving Krycek from the Middle East. He was wondering how to reward her as he was wheeled into the suite that was rented specially for Consortium members in DC.

By the time the two wandering agents were shown in to see him, he was virtually purring with delight.

Alex and Marita stood outside the doorway of suite 2645, looking at each other. Figuring it was now or never, Krycek cut his eyes to the door. He couldn't wait to see Dustin again, and every second brought him closer to that.

Marita knocked once, sharply, looking at Alex out of the corner of her eye. The entire way home he'd been talking of Dustin, and how he wanted to wrap himself around him as soon as he could. She swallowed, thinking that, if she knew Spender, it wouldn't be that easy...

Greta answered the door. Alex stared at her for a moment, hate in his eyes. She stepped back to allow them into the room. "Hi. He's anxious to see you."

I'll bet he is, Alex thought.

That was before he got his first real look at the man. His face was bloated, his skin papery. He sat in a wheelchair, looking up them with heavy lizard eyes. Alex half expected a forked tongue to flick in and out of his mouth.

He gasped. This was the man who had ruled him all of his life, reduced to this.

Beside him, Marita also regarded Smoker. To her, he looked like Yoda from the Star Wars movies, or a Muppet. Certainly not the powerful man he was - is, she reminded herself.

Alex thought of Dustin. Where was he right now? In the house? In the dungeon, hurting? Every day Alex had imagined his lover, being tormented as he had been.

It's over, lover, he thought. I'm here.

"I was worried about you, Alex," said the old man, oozing sincerity from every pore. Covertly, he studied Krycek, looking for signs that he might be breaking down. So far, there were none - but patience, he told himself. It's early days yet.

Krycek stared down at Spender. "Cut the crap, old man," he said, trying to keep his voice even.

Here he was. His tormentor and his Daddy, a part of his mind began hissing at him... but he didn't want to hear it. He had stayed tough. Sascha had kept him alive, and would continue to. He wouldn't let the old man know how close he was... he wouldn't think about Günter.

Dustin... are you close? he wondered. Are you here?

A slow smile crept over Spender's withered features. "I heard about your incarceration," he said, mockingly. Alex's eyes were the key to his emotional state. He watched now as they flickered, unable to keep from searching the room.

Krycek swallowed. Heard about it?

His eyes narrowed. Silently he pleaded, Hold me, Sascha, but he couldn't stop his voice cracking as he said to Spender, "You had me thrown in that hellhole."

The old man actually had the audacity to look concerned.

Dustin... Alex wished, oh, God... if only you were here...

"For trying to sell something that was mine, was it not?" Spender's lip was still curling. Yes. He could see the signs now, the strain that was betrayed by his protégé's preternatural stillness, and by the way he searched surreptitiously for the pet that he would not find. Yes, my boy, you will be good for your daddy, won't you? "I hope we can all move forward... Put the past behind us. We have a... singular opportunity now."

Put it behind us? Where's Dustin? His absence and Spender's silence were disturbing.

"A singular opportunity?" Krycek repeated.

Spender's tone... the man sounded pleased. He wondered when he would show him Dustin. He would, wouldn't he? He had to.

Maybe Dustin was part of this.

"There's been a crash in Oregon." Spender leaned forward, his face eager. "An alien ship has collided with a military aircraft. Recovery is all-important. It's Roswell and Corona all over again-- 50 years later. It's our chance to rebuild the project."

He saw Alex's face flicker, and knew that his response hadn't been what the man was after. He thinks I have his inamorata. Dear me! He doesn't know that the little rat escaped me.

He took the cigarette that Greta had lit for him and held it to the tracheotomy stoma, inhaling the fragrant smoke with evident pleasure as he watched both Krycek and Covarrubias recoil. Ah, yes, they were both still squeamish. He would enjoy this smoke even more now because of it.

Krycek watched as the Smoker took the cigarette, placing it into his trache. Even like this, the bastard still smokes... Marita couldn't believe iy, either.

"How do you know someone hasn't already recovered it?" she asked him, noticing Alex's horror.

"It's never quite that easy," smiled the old man as he feasted on the distaste that he could sense from his erstwhile protégé.

Krycek stared at Spender. He couldn't hold back his question any longer. "Where is he? Where's Dustin?" His voice wavered, though he tried to keep it even. He was hoping desperately that his lover was close by. Ah, there it was at last. This was the opening for which he had waited. "You're asking me about that pet of yours? The one that you left with me as a surety for your good behavior? But Alex, don't you see? When you disobeyed me, I killed him. I had to. I couldn't have you thinking that I would break my word, could I?"

"No... you wouldn't!" Alex's eyes flashed. "I didn't disobey you... I didn't! I sent you the discs..." He stared into Spender's eyes. Calm as ever. "I didn't... you wouldn't... he was too valuable to you. You wouldn't kill him..."

Alex's eyes showed his fervent hope that this was true.

Marita stared at Spender, her eyes hard

"Remember your old friend, Dr. Hatcher?" Spender was enjoying this now. At Alex's nod, he continued. "Dustin had a most interesting meeting with him. He disobeyed, and I had to have Julian compel him for me. Sadly, your poor little cub it was little cub, wasn't it? didn't survive the encounter. Dr. Hatcher was so looking forward to making his acquaintance, too."

"No... you wouldn't!" Alex's eyes flashed. "I didn't disobey you... I didn't! I sent you the discs..." He stared into Spender's eyes. Calm as ever. "I didn't... you wouldn't... he was too valuable to you. You wouldn't kill him..."

Alex's eyes betrayed his fervent hope that this was true.

Marita stared at Spender, her eyes hard as flint. If you killed him, she was thinking, so help me...

"Remember your old friend, Dr. Hatcher?" Spender was enjoying this now. At Alex's nod, he continued. "Dustin had a most interesting meeting with him. He disobeyed, and I had to have Julian compel him for me. Sadly, your poor little cub - it was little cub, wasn't it? - didn't survive the encounter. Dr. Hatcher was so looking forward to making his acquaintance, too."

"No," Alex said. "You're lying to me! You are!" His fist clenched, and he turned to begin pacing, but then whirled and came back. "You were going to let Hatcher have him? No, Dustin was too good for that. You didn't make him..." Krycek's voice hitched, and threatened to break. "He was really special," Alex said. "Really special. You didn't kill him. I know it."

Marita continued to glare at Spender. "He killed Hatcher, didn't he?" she suggested. "You tried to make him sleep with him, and he wouldn't do it." She couldn't say as she blamed him. She hadn't liked sleeping with him, either.

"Alex, my boy, you will be good for your Daddy, now, won't you? We've had far too many tantrums lately. Come now, I need you to go to Oregon for me." Spender crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray that Greta had proffered. "Dustin Yarma is gone. Forget him. You'll never even know where he lies buried."

"No..."

Alex reached into his jacket, looking for his knife. Suddenly a shooting pain knifed through his head, and he stumbled, falling to his knees.

I can't hurt the bastard, he realized. Why not?

Alex raised his eyes to Spender... his Daddy.

"No, Daddy," he said in Alexei's voice. "He was my friend... my sweet friend. Why'd you kill him?"

Marita looked at Krycek sadly. She hated to see him like this.

"Release him," she said to Spender, coldly.

Spender made no answer, save for a small, hard smile. As he turned his wheelchair and moved away, Greta handed Krycek a plane ticket.

"Your flight leaves in four hours." She turned to Marita. "He wants to talk to you."

The audience was at an end.

Alex stood beside Marita, who held his hand lightly. They were outside the airport, standing in a drizzle. Alex's flight left in a half hour.

"I can't believe he killed him," Alex said for what seemed like the fifty-seventh time that hour. "Dadd - Spender wouldn't do that, would he?" He looked at Marita, eyes dark and misty in pain.

"He's lying. Please, tell me he wouldn't kill Dustin..."

There didn't seem to be anything she could say. Marita knew all too well that Spender would do anything he set his mind on. She patted his hand gently, and wondered privately how long it would be before Alex Krycek would be completely devoured by the little boy she could see shivering just beneath the surface of his emotions. If the Smoker had intended to break Alex, he had almost finished his work. She wondered if there was anything she could do to save him. It was all far too convoluted and terrible for her to bend her mind around.

"Alex, please hang in there, love. Don't let him beat you." She stroked his fingers, trying to think of something else she could say.

Alex put his arm around Marita, holding her close. "Maybe it doesn't matter anymore," he said softly. "Dustin..." His voice cracked. "Dustin was everything, Dustin was my last chance..."

He kissed her shoulder. "Why does he hate me so? I've tried to be good, really good... pretty." Hearing his own words, he stepped back in horror.

He usually wasn't aware of his regression, not consciously, and now... now, increasingly, he was.

He stared at Marita. "What the hell is happening to me?" he asked her, his face blanching. "It was never like this... not before..."

Her eyes had widened in horror and pity, and now she hugged him, avoiding his accusing eyes.

"Go to Oregon, and hurry back. We need to do something to help you, Alex. You're sick." She took a step backwards, away from him. "You have to go. You'll miss your flight."

Alex stared at her for a moment.

*Mama. Don't go...*

Who had said that?

He blinked rapidly a few time, shaking his head to clear it. "All right. All right. I just... yeah, I better go. I... take care."

With that, he shouldered his knapsack and headed into the terminal.

He'd slept in the car, and awoke with the dawn, feeling stiff and sore. He'd escaped, and that was frightening enough, but he'd injured the Smoker, and that was terrifying. He wondered if the old man was dead, but came to the conclusion that the Devil could not be defeated so simply. Checking his watch, he saw that the time was almost 8am. Starting up the car, he pulled into a MacDonald's and bought himself breakfast at the drive-through.

He wondered how long it would be before the car he was driving would be wanted by the police. He checked the notes that he had made. He'd decided to go to see Dr. Werber. The man had been touted by both Spender and Skinner as an expert hypnotherapist, and Dustin was pinning his hopes on getting help from him for Alex.

Arriving at the Doctor's address, he rang the bell, his heart in his mouth. It was Sunday morning, Heitz Werber thought sourly. Who the hell rings your doorbell at this hour on a Sunday morning? Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Setting down his coffee mug and the latest issue of JAMA, he stood up stiffly, walking towards the door.

Opening it, but keeping the security chain across the door, Werber peered though the narrow opening.

"Yes?"

The man on his doorstep looked familiar... so familiar. But his memory came up empty.

"May I help you?"

"Please, I hope so." Dustin shifted nervously from foot to foot as he stood on the doorstep. "I have a problem. A terrible problem. I'm hoping that you can help me, but if you can't, I hope you can send me to someone who can. May I come in?"

Sighing, Werber looked the young man over. He did look distraught. However... something in the back of his mind warned him against this man, said he was dangerous. He didn't remember the man, but he knew enough to listen to his instincts.

"How did you know - where did you get my name and address?" he asked warily.

"I read it on a project that involved Fox Mulder. You helped Mulder, and you're the only one I know who has the level of expertise to help my Alex." Dustin shivered in the cold, damp wind that was blowing in off the Potomac. "They've brainwashed him. He's got to have help." He thought frantically, trying to come up with something that might sway Werber. "Assistant Director Skinner of the FBI was the one who said you were good at what you do."

Werber smiled, and shut the door to remove the chain. "Come in, come in," he said, stepping back to allow Alex entrance. "Please excuse my getup... I wasn't expecting visitors."

The doctor, clad in plaid pajamas and wearing slippers, walked back towards the breakfast nook. "Would you like some coffee? I have several varieties..." He opened a cabinet, revealing a selection of Gevalia Kaffe.

"Oh, would I?" exclaimed Dustin, following the doctor back into the house with great relief. "I just drank a cup of something that would make great paint stripper. I'd love some real stuff." He sat down where Dr. Werber indicated, and drew the hold-all he was carrying onto his knee. "I brought all the information I could to show you, but there's more. I have a lot of it memorized. Perhaps I should start by introducing myself. My name is Dustin Yarma, and the story I have is probably going to sound utterly impossible."

Werber smiled. "Well, as a psychiatrist, I've heard many things." He gazed at the large and bulging hold-all the young man was carrying.

"Hello, Dustin Yarma," Werber said. "Heitz Werber." He extended his right hand.

He turned around to brew a fresh pot of coffee. "Why don't you begin at the beginning, while I fix us up, here?"

The office was quiet at the end of what had been a very long day. Mackey was writing memos regarding the new musical he was attempting to set up. Everyone else had gone home, and he was deliberating whether or not to call it a night when the phone rang.

"Mackey," he said. He wasn't expecting any calls at this time of night, and he really didn't want to get into any complex business discussions. It was far too late, and he was tired.

Alex had reached Portland Airport, and on deplaning had found a phone as soon as he could. He had had several disturbing flashbacks on the flight, and was very relieved to be back on terra firma. Now, he needed a friend... someone he could trust. Who would he choose but Mackey, his oldest true friend?

He'd been unable to eat on the flight, but now he was ravenous. He held his US Airways "happy meal" in one hand, tearing the sandwich wrap off the ham and turkey sandwich with his teeth.

When Mackey answered the phone he took the bag out of his mouth, shaking.

"He... he killed him, Karl..." His voice started to really waver at the end, and his knees knocked. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe he should go to his hotel, call from there if he still felt he had to.

Get it together, Alex, he thought.

"Alex? Is that you, Alex? What do you mean, he killed him? Who killed who?" Mackey sounded completely astonished. "Where are you? Are you still in Tunisia?"

"Dustin. He killed Dustin." His voice was high, and he had started to cry; he felt a tear course down his cheek. "Killed him, Karl... gone." He rubbed the tear away. "All gone," he said, in a child's voice.

Alex! What the hell are you doing? he asked himself.

He stood there, just breathing, trying to figure out what to say next. Tunisia? What was Tunisia? The room was swimming... "What's the point," he said under his breath. "What's the fucking point?"

Behind him, the PA system announced the last call for the redeye from Portland to Boston.

"Woah, Alex, hold it. I was talking to Dustin just a half hour ago. When did he kill him? You mean Spender, don't you?" Mackey was confused. "I don't see how he could have killed him. Dustin isn't with Spender. He got away yesterday." It suddenly dawned on Mackey what had happened. "He lied to you, my love. He lied to you out of sheer cruelty. He wanted to keep you apart. He's succeeded, hasn't he?"

Alex was numb. He couldn't think... didn't want to. "He's gone... Daddy took him away. Far... away..." Alex squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't try to make me feel better with lies. Don't you know lies always hurt more?" He hung up, and stood shaking. It was a while before he could get himself together enough to head for a table to eat his sandwich, then go in search of a cab.

Karl twitched a little. He wasn't sure what the story was here, but he was going to find out. Swiftly he checked for the number that Dustin had given him in DC. He was going to make sure of his facts before he made any statements to Alex that could possibly harm him. Well aware that 10pm in Los Angeles was 1am in Washington DC, Mackey felt a little twinge of conscience as he dialed, but as the phone began to ring, he felt the cold trickle of fear down his spine.

When Dustin answered sleepily, Mackey felt a flood of relief so intense that he almost fell. "Dustin, is that you?"

"Who else would it be? Is that you, Karl? What's the matter?" the smoky voice was slowly sounding more alert, but Dustin was still evidently a little foggy.

"I wanted to make sure that you're still alive, Dustin. Alex thinks that you're dead. The Smoking Man told him that he'd killed you."

"Where is he, Karl?" Dustin was sounding alert again as the words penetrated the drowsy aftermath of sleep. "Jesus! What has that bastard done to him? I'll kill him for sure." Mackey could hear the yawn that filled the pause between Dustin's words. "When did he come home?"

"He's not... exactly home," Karl said. "He's in Oregon... I'm going to call his cell number, try to get on the first plane up there... get him back to sanity. But I had to make sure you were really alive before I told him... he's right on the edge." Mackey sucked in a breath. "The old man's playing with him, Dustin, fucking with his mind and he's... I have to go to him. He... I... I'll bring him back to you. Okay?" Mackey paused. "Where are you now? If you have your cell you must have gotten out. What's going on?"

"I got out all right. I stabbed an old guy and kicked old Spender in the throat. Then I ran. He wanted to whore me out. I couldn't do it, Karl. The old bastard was one of those that abused Alex so I don't feel even slightly sorry. I just wish it was all over and I had him back. I'm at the house of a hypnotherapist, trying to get some help for him." Dustin paused, not sure if to say where he was would permit the Smoker to trace him. "Karl, what can I do? I'm so fucking far away."

Karl let out a breath. "They hurt him so badly... for what, Dustin? I agree that that piece of scum deserved to die. I could tell you things... I don't know what you can do. Stay with the... did you say hypnotherapist?" There was an edge in Mackey's voice. "Can you trust him? How did you find out about him, and what did you tell him?" Meanwhile, Mackey was online, seeing about airline tickets...

"He's one that's retained by the FBI. If I can't trust him, I can't trust anyone. He's reading over the papers that I've taken from the Smoker. I took all kinds of stuff. He might be able to do something to help him." Dustin ceased to speak, and there was a short pause, then he said, "Can you get to him? Will you be in time?"

While Dustin spoke, Karl finished emailing a friend at Miramar AFB to see about getting... alternative transport to Oregon. He had an old friend, of sorts, who was now a CO, and he owed him a favor or two. For good measure, he paged the man as well.

"I'm trying to get to him. I emailed Dillain down at Miramar... and I think he'll come through."

He looked at the papers on his desk for a moment. "He won't like another doctor. Especially if he's a therapist. He's scared to death of them. Not that I blame him... do you know what they did to him? He was only a boy..."

Karl couldn't help choking a little a he remembered the things he and Alex had gone through on their return from Tunguska, and by then they were both 17, 18... Before that...

"I'll get there as soon as I can."

Just then his beeper went off... it was Dillain.

"That's him now," Mackey said to Dustin. "Hang on..."

Fuming impotently at the dead air, Dustin waited for Mackey to come back. At the click that heralded his return he demanded to know what was happening. "Karl? When will you get there? Is it going to be okay?

"Dillain's gonna take me by jet, in about a half hour. I have to go, Dustin. I'll call you as soon as I know anything; promise."

"Oh, please get there in time." Dustin sounded desperate. "Don't leave me waiting to find out. Call me as soon as you find him."

It was 5am by the time Karl Mackey stumbled into a hotel bedroom. He'd made it to Portland with his old friend's assistance, and had then checked into the hotel at the terminal. Picking up the phone, he dialed Alex's cell again, hoping to get hold of him, but knowing that he would be sleeping by that time. He'd been right. Fearfully, he'd left a message giving his hotel's address and his room number, then, throwing his clothes onto a chair, he fell exhausted into bed.

Alex Krycek was lying in bed awake, shivering. He held his knees to his chest, having jerked awake suddenly... it was his fault, all his fault Dustin was dead. He shouldn't have run... shouldn't have run. Now he was trapped again.

He grabbed the sweat-soaked sheet that was twisted around his body, clinging to it for warmth though he had kicked off the blankets for being too hot... he was freezing now. He heard his cell go off but didn't answer it. He closed his eyes, and there was Sergei again, Daddy Sergei... yelling at him, telling him not to run... but how could he not run?

He couldn't stay.

He tossed the sheet off and tried sitting up, but he felt dizzy and immediately had to lie down again.

Still, his contact would be waiting at seven... get up or sleep? He might as well get up... if he could.

It was close to midday when Karl finally emerged from his room to searchfor Alex. He'd called his cell several times and had no reply. Now he had to try another way. Alex was obviously not going to respond to his calls now, and he needed to trace him. He spent the afternoon checking on car rental companies, and struck lucky on his fourth call. Alex had rented a vehicle, and it had been delivered to his hotel. Grimly, Karl headed off to the place, intending to await Alex's arrival.

Krycek climbed the stairs in the old, seedy hotel and walked down the hall to his room, keys in hand. Sascha was still in control, still shielding the man and boys who were on the verge of collapse. I have you safe now, he reassured them. Don't be afraid.

He put the key in the lock, and was surprised to find it unlocked. Well, of course it was...

Stepping inside, he saw the man, and his cock was instantly hard. He growled. "Take off your pants and get against the wall, Karl"

Mackey had been waiting for Alex's return. He had been filled with fear when he'd spoken to Alex on the phone. He was regressing farther and faster each time he received a shock. Now, as he turned to see Alex enter the room, confident and cool, his heart rose. It was only when Alex spoke that he realized that something was still terribly wrong.

"Alex? I was worried about you."

"Shut up, Karl." Sascha's eyes were hard and almost black. "You don't listen very well, do you?" He was across the room in two strides, shoving Mackey against the wall, reaching around for Karl's fly, unbuttoning it and shoving Karl's pants down while he pressed him to the wall with his prosthetic hand.

Breathing heavily, he undid his own pants, taking out his cock and bending his knees to position himself just at Karl's anus. Seizing the man's earlobe in his teeth, he shoved inside of Karl roughly, and began fucking him fiercely.

"You always were a wimp, Karl. You and Alexei both."

He used his hand to hold Karl against the wall as he fucked him deeper and harder on each stroke. He moved his mouth down to bite at Karl's neck. Karl's hands splayed out against the wall of the room, forgotten as they scrabbled for purchase on the smooth surface, his head turned sideways as Sascha it had to be Alex's most vicious persona had his way. His ass, unprepared, burned as Alex shoved into him, brutally, and he cried out in pain as the penetration caused him to rise onto his tiptoes.

"Alex, lover. Don't... Ah, God, that hurts."

"In case you haven't noticed, *lover*, Alex isn't home right now." Sascha's voice was smoky as he pushed himself deeper into Karl. "Spread your legs, boy. You always were such a slut for pain. Take it, Karl. Take it."

Dropping his hand to grip and pinch savagely at the tip of Karl's cock as he felt his balls begin to tighten, Sascha bit into Karl's shoulder. "You know you're a pain slut." he sneered, pulling Karl closer to him with his arm as he pinched him, shoving him against the wall and thrusting into him as hard as he could. "I can give you that..."

Hurt, and hurt... Pinches and bites and scratches that tore his skin, drew his blood and made him keen in a strange, high pitched voice. Karl shook, but beneath the pain, beneath the fear, this was Alex, loving him, fucking him and showing him no mercy. He felt as though his heart would burst for joy. "Give it to me, Alex. Give me everything. I love you."

"Take it, then," Sascha growled as he exploded in orgasm, emptying himself deep inside Karl. "You want it? Take it."

He held himself against Karl, biting and pressing him against the wall, until his orgasm subsided.

As it did, so did Sascha's fight, and spirit...

*I love you, Alex*

Those were words spoken to Alexei, so long ago...

Looking down as he pulled out of Karl, not quite aware of where he was, Alexei saw the blood on his cock and Karl's ass. "Wha -"

Then he saw blood from bites on Karl's neck. "Oh God..."

Heart pounding, he began to back away, an arm held up as if to fend off any blows. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

He retreated to the far corner of the room, sinking down onto the floor.He'd marked Karl, and now his Daddy would hurt him again... and Karl would hurt him because of it.

"I'm sorry Karl... I'm sorry... I'll be good..."

He looked at Karl, eyes wide in fear and confusion.

Karl could do nothing for a moment. He was in pain, his body felt excoriated, his gut lanced as if by knives.

"Oh, Alex, my love. I do love you." Karl sank to his knees.

He reached out, wanting, needing Alex to hold him.

Alexei cowered in the corner. "Karl... what happened? I didn't mean to hurt you..." He shivered. "I'm sorry... so sorry." He looked down at the floor. "We're in trouble now, aren't we?"

He waited for Karl to strike him.

Crawling forward, Karl reached for Alex, and when his hands touched him, he pulled him in and held him close.

"Baby, you have to understand that I love you. I won't ever hurt you. Dustin... Dustin asked me to come."

Alexei's lower lip trembled as he looked into Karl's eyes. "Moi Karl... Daddy killed Dustin. He's dead... dead. My Little Cub is dead... oh god, why did I run again, Karl? Why did I make Daddy mad? Dustin's dead..."

He looked at Karl. "Daddy Sergei will be here soon." His eyes grew wider. "We should hide." Not that hiding ever did any good, with Daddy Sergei, not for long, but it would make him feel a little better... for a few moments.

Karl didn't know how to answer him. He held Alex tight, his own hurts forgotten in the need to make Alex well.

"He's not dead, love. He's not. He sent me to look after you. Sergei can't touch you. You belong to me now."

If Alex had been in his right mind, he would have had a smile at Karl's saying he, Alex, belonged to Karl. Maybe more than a smile.

As he was, Alexei looked at him doubtfully. "Sergei can always touch me. You know that. He's my Daddy. And Dustin... Little Cub is dead. Daddy -Daddy told me that. He wouldn't lie. He said that, too."

He looked at Karl warily. "You did hurt me," he stated. "You got on top of me when I was tied down. You... you fucked me."

He started scooting away.

Karl wasn't sure what he could do. He scrabbled in his pockets, searching out his cell phone, and dialed Dustin's number.

"Come on, Dustin, pick up." He put the phone to his ear. It rang three times before he heard the husky voice answer.

"Hello? Yarma." Dustin might be able to convince Alex where Karl could not.

"Dustin, Hold on." He held out the phone to Alex. "Take it. Talk to him."

Warily, Alexei took the phone. "Hello," he said, expressionlessly.

"Alex?" The voice was the same as his own. "Alex? Is that you?" Dustin suddenly realized who it was that he was to talk to. "Oh, thank God you're safe. When are you coming home?"

Alexei's lip quivered again. "Dust - Dustin? You - you're alive?" He couldn't believe it, but unless this was a *very* special kind of phone, he was alive.

"Daddy said you were dead," he said. Oh, God, Daddy said he killed you..."

Alexei remembered that Daddy had said he would not take him to Dustin's grave.

"Maybe because he couldn't," Alex said aloud. "But... Daddy doesn't lie..."

He looked at Karl, confusion in his eyes.

"Dustin? Little Cub? Are you really alive?"

"Well, baby, if I'm not, I'm a very healthy walking corpse. Oh, Alex, I'm so happy to hear your voice. When are you coming back to me?" Dustin sounded eager, and his enthusiasm was palpable over the phone. "I had to leave the old bastard. He was going to hurt me, but I've got so many things that will help you. I have to tell you so much."

Alex couldn't think. "Dustin, oh, Dustin. I love you, Dustin. He... did he hurt you? Did he touch you? But you're okay now? Where are you?" He looked at Mackey. "When... when can we go to Dustin?" he asked, breathlessly. Then he put the phone back to his ear. "Are you safe Dustin? You have to be safe."

"Safe? Yeah, I'm safe for now. I'm with a Dr. Werber. He's helping me go through some of the stuff I stole from Spender. Wh... when are you coming back to DC?" Dustin was tripping over words in his eagerness.

"Werber?" Alex bit at his lip. The name was so familiar... but he was a doctor... "Doctor? I don't trust doctors. I... is he hurting you?" What did you steal from Spender?" He was confused again. "I have to go see Daddy tomorrow. Have to go home. He'll be so disappointed. I'm afraid. He'll hurt me. But I have to go. I failed in my job."

"Alex, you have to come home to me. I'll make sure that Daddy doesn't ever hurt you again." Dustin had seen Alex like this before, and Dr. Werber had told him how to handle it. His next words were chosen carefully. "Dr. Werber won't hurt you. He's my friend and I won't let him hurt you. I'm... I'm going to protect you."

"I... I want to see you, Dustin. But I have to go to Daddy. I... I can't explain it. But I need to go see Daddy tomorrow. Are you still in D.C.? Maybe I can see you then... I love you so much, Dustin. I'm sorry I got you mixed up with Daddy. I need to see him though... if not he'll kill you for real, I know he will." Alex drew in a breath and looked at Mackey. "Can you... you'll help me, moi Karl?"

Karl shook himself. His senses were still overloaded. His anus was bleeding and he felt dizzy.

"I'll help you, love. You know I will. What do you need me to do?" He stood on shaky legs, and stumbled to where Alex was sitting, holding out his hand to pull him up.

Alex looked at Karl as if really seeing him for the first time. His pants were down, his shirt rumpled. There was blood on his thigh. "My God Karl..."

He took his hand, standing up slowly. "Are you okay?"

He took Karl around the waist and led him to the bed. "Lie down, Karl. I'll help you. I just need... oh, God. I can't..."

Alex turned back to the phone. "Talk to Karl, okay? I hurt him, I think...Dustin, why do I hurt him so?"

He dropped the phone into Karl's hand and went to the hotel mini-bar for some ice.

*Lick it, boy.*

Alex shivered.

Sergei stood above him. *Give me a rimjob, pretty boy.*

Alex shook his head to clear the memory, and continued toward the ice.

"We'll be on the first flight in the morning, Dustin. I'll call you as soon as we've got a flight." He winced as he laid himself back on the bed. "Talk to you later." Folding his cell phone up once again, he waited for Alex to fetch the ice.

Alex took several ice cubes from the small freezer, filled a plastic cup and collected some paper towels.

Rejoining Karl at the bed, he lay down beside him. "Moi Karl... I'm sorry." He took one of the ice cubes, and lightly trailed it up Karl's thigh, to his anus. He held it there a moment. "Tell me where, and how much," he whispered, kissing Karl's neck softly.

After a moment, he said, "Do you remember lying by the river like this in Siberia, holding each other? You were all I had, Karl. Why do I treat you so badly? I don't get it."

Mackey yelped as the cold of the ice invaded his senses, and then slowly relaxed as Alex began to stroke his abused tissues.

"I remember, Alex. I would never forget anything that you and I did together. Come hold me again. We can go back to Dustin tomorrow." Karl opened his arms to Alex, and waited, longing on his face. "You know that you can always count on me to be here for you."

Alex moved closer to Karl, wrapping an arm around him. "Why do you put up with me, Karl? You know you need someone who'll treat you right... you know you deserve so much better." He quickly slipped a piece of ice into Karl's anus, then another. He then fell on Karl, kissing him and licking the wounds where he'd bitten the man. "I love you..."

"Alex, I know you do." Mackey put his arms around Alex once more. "Don't worry. You're safe now. I won't let anything bad happen to you, and tomorrow, you'll be home with Dustin again." Karl stroked Alex's hair, trying hard to offer him comfort.

Alex snuggled closer to Karl, smiling. "I'm so lucky to have you. You don't even know how often you've saved my life, do you?" Alex kissed his mouth, running a hand around to cradle his head. "Moi Karl..." He yawned.

"Moi Karl? Why do I hurt you, Karl? I love you. Why do I treat you so bad?"

"Hush now, baby. You need to sleep. We'll be catching a plane early tomorrow. You know that I don't mind when you hurt me, just so long as you don't forget me." Karl spoke softly, wishing that he could help Alex somehow, knowing that he couldn't.

Alex rubbed Karl's neck. "You won't forget me, either... will you?" He licked at Mackey's chin, and snuggled in again. "You feel so good, so safe. I finally feel safe... will you hold me while I sleep, Karl? Please?" He buried his nose in Karl's neck, breathing in the musky scent that had always meant comfort, and occasionally, safety.

"It's all I ever wanted," said Karl, snuggling Alex in against him. "I won't let you go."

The following morning was wet and cold. Karl had woken Alex at four, and by six am they were at the airport, checked in and ready to board the first plane to DC. Karl felt jumpy. There were so many things that he was afraid of, but one thing he knew, he had to get Alex back to DC, and to Dustin, before the man became incapable of functioning.

As their flight was called, he found himself prompting Alex, and felt fear as they walked to the business class compartment.

Alex walked in a daze. Daddy... Dustin... Karl. He had to see Daddy, but he needed to make sure Dustin was all right first. "Karl..." He dropped into his seat, a window-seat, near the front of the cabin, and looked out onto the tarmac absently. "It's a long way down, isn't it, Karl?" he asked.

"It's not far, Alex, love, and we'll soon be home. You will be able to see Dustin again. He's longing to see you." Mackey racked his brains in an attempt to think of something that would hold Alex during the flight. "Hang in, Alex. Stay with me."

Alex continued to stare out the window. "Long ago, far away... there was a good boy, a pretty boy. His daddy told him to be good so he'd love him always. Then he sent his good boy away... like this. He never came back the same again... had a friend with him when he came back, though. Karl. But Sergei... he never would have let me go."

"Sergei hurt you, baby. He hurt us both. We didn't love Sergei." Karl put out a hand to stroke Alex's hair. "Come on, baby, you know that Dustin is waiting. He loves you. You don't need to remember Sergei."

As the plane began its takeoff roll, Alex turned to look at Karl. "I gotta get home... I gotta see Daddy. Daddy wants me... maybe he'll tell me I'm a good boy and love me this time. If I'm extra good, and pretty, do you think he would? I just want him to love me... all I've ever wanted." He watched the receding ground slip away beneath them, and waved. "Bye bye... we're up now."

"Oh, baby, of course he's going to love you. How could he not?" Mackey stroked him gently. "Come now, love, see if you can sleep for a while. I'll wake you up when they bring your breakfast."

Alex snuggled in against Karl, happy and safe at last, but he was still anxious... he nuzzled in, bringing his hand to his face, not sucking his thumb, but it was there... he sucked and nibbled at Karl's sweater, instead, as he drifted off to troubled dreams...

Dreams of the gulag, of Sergei... of pain and loneliness and dread. The overarching feeling of failure.

The learned helplessness of a lifelong victim.

*Do what we tell you, it'll go easier on you then.*

Except it hadn't... hadn't mattered. Even when he was good, they still hurt him... holding him down, or when he was bad, sometimes...

As Alexei slept, he whimpered softly, jerking a little as if to scoot away...

The sprawl of Washington DC lay beneath them. Alex had slept fitfully for much of the way, and Karl shook him gently now, invading yet another, obviously bad dream to rouse him so that he could prepare for landing. "Hey, Alex. Come on now, love. It's time we were thinking about landing. "We're here."

"No... no..." Alex tossed. "Sergei, please, no..."

He jerked, and opened one eye, dazed. "Karl?" he asked softly. "Where's Daddy?"

"He sent Dustin to meet you, love. He knows how much you want to see him." Karl busied himself tidying Alex and dusting down his fine serge jacket prior to fastening his seat belt. "Here we go," he said, smiling, as he felt the plane beginning to descend.

Alex looked at Karl warily. "Dustin? My Little Cub? Daddy's letting me see him? His words were hopeful, earnest. The child once again...

His face drooped. "But Daddy said I could only play with Karl. Didn't want me to have other friends."

Karl sighed. "Daddy doesn't mind if you play with Dustin, love. He knows what Dustin means to you. He sent Dustin to meet you. When the plane lands, you'll see." Gritting his teeth, he prepared himself for the landing, hoping against hope that Alex could hold on to his sanity.

Alex held Karl's hand tightly. "I'm afraid, Karl... I have to see Daddy. Go straight to Daddy. Dustin'll take me to him, won't he?" Alex's eyes were wide. "After I do a job, I have to report to Daddy. It's that way every time, you know that."

"Daddy is away at the moment, baby. He's in Tunisia." The lie caught in Karl's throat. "He says that you did well and you can play with Dustin for a couple of days before he comes home." Turning to the window, Karl pointed out the airport. "See, baby, that's where we're going. That's where Dustin's waiting to see you."

"Dustin..." Alex smiled. "I had fun with Dustin. We held each other tight and I felt loved, like papa when he... before papa left and things went bad. Before they... hurt me..." Alex bit his lip.

"I wish Papa had never left me!" he wailed. "Now I'll never be loved again. Never ever ever."

"Alex Krycek, do you think that I don't love you? Do you think that Dustin doesn't love you? You hurt my feelings."

The plane was down on the runway now, and Karl was trying to divert Alex as he told him about the fun they would have with each other.

"No... no, I'm a bad boy. I don't deserve any love or fun. I didn't find the ship, and I hurt my friend, and... and if you loved me you'd take me to my Daddy!" Alex looked out the window. "You... you won't let me. I have to go... go back... find it. Or Daddy won't love me, he'll hurt me..."

"Daddy said that it was all right not to find it, because you didn't let Fox Mulder find it either. He told me to tell you that you are a good boy, Alyosha. He knows that you tried your hardest." God, it hurt to deceive. Alex's face was querulous, lower lip trembling, but here and now was not the place for comfort. "Come, Alyosha. Pick up your bag. We have to go and meet Dustin now."

Alex nodded, picking up his bag expressionlessly. He was with one of Daddy's men... it was out of his hands, now. All he could do was follow, and take what came.

He looked at Karl for direction.

Leaving the plane was done in a trice. Mackey stayed close to Alex, who walked listlessly. He talked of whatever came into his head in his attempt to cheer Alex, to bring him back to himself. It seemed as though nothing would work. Finally, he saw Dustin in the distance, waiting, dressed casually and twirling a keychain between his fingers, and pointed to him.

"Look, Alex. There he is. He's not dead after all."

Alex stopped, looking at his double. He bit his lip, and tried to remember his name. "Dust... little cub," he said. "He's not so little... does he want me?" Alex looked at Dustin, uncertain. He offered a smile, but took Mackey's hand and stayed close.

"Oh, Alex," said Dustin, and in those syllables was a world of love. "Come on, we have to go somewhere where I can hold you tight, and kiss you until I believe that I have you back." He stood looking at Alex, his heart shining from his eyes as he danced from toe to toe in his excitement. "Come on. The car is waiting for you." He turned to lead the way, and then, as an afterthought, turned back. "Hi, Karl," he said.

Alex looked at Dustin. "I'll go with you... I'll be good. Where are you taking me?" He ran to catch up to this man... this Dustin. They had been friends once... lovers. He'd never felt safer than in his arms. He just couldn't remember *when*...

"I'm taking you to my friend's house, baby. That's where I've been staying for the last few days." Dustin caught Karl's eye as they walked to the car. He had seen at a glance what was happening with Alex, and he didn't need Karl to tell him to be careful what he said. "I've been staying with him, and told him all about you. He wants to meet you."

Alex smiled. "I can be good for you. I can be really good." He looked at Karl, then Dustin. "What do you need me to do?"

Karl's gasp was audible, even above the noise in the airport concourse. Dustin stopped and swung round to glare at him. "You know what, Alex? I need you to be my lover again. That's what I need. Can you think of anything else I might need? Just tell me, or better yet, surprise me." Dustin spoke with a smile, but behind the smile was pain, bright as new pennies in the tear filled eyes.

Grinning impishly and fluttering his lashes seductively, Alex took Dustin's hand and pulled him into a men's room near a bar they were passing. He knew what he could do to be good. What they always wanted...

He had to prove his worth.

He pushed Dustin against the wall of the room, dropping to his knees and unzipping his fly. "I'll be your good boy, your pretty boy. You'll see. You'll be glad my Daddy sent me to you."

Dustin froze. How could this be happening? How could he have regressed so low, so fast? Gently, he stroked Alex's face, turning it up to look at him.

"You're right, love. I want you, but not here. Not like this. I want you in my bed, in my arms, to sleep with you, and wake up tomorrow knowing that you're there with me. I want to kiss you, and for you to kiss me back." He pulled up his zipper and then held out a hand to help Alex to his feet. "Come and kiss me, love, and then lets go somewhere quiet."

Alex stared up at Dustin. This wasn't right... this wasn't.... how it was supposed to go.

But Dustin seemed to want...

He stood up slowly, kissing him long and deep. "Dustin... oh, Dustin."

Dustin? Dustin...? The spice scent and taste... the warmth and feel... this was a friend.

Alex shook himself. He stood, blinking. "Dustin," he whispered. "What's happened? He said you were dead; then you weren't. And I... sometimes I can't remember things, and I... what's wrong with me? I mean... you're him, right? You're Dustin Yarma... little cub."

Dustin hugged him close, pressing his face tight against the wool of Alex's long coat as he fought the tears again. It was a minute before he could raise his head and gaze into Alex's eyes, and when he did so, it was hard to smile.

"Nothing's wrong, love. We're going to make everything all right for you. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again, I give you my word." He glanced over his shoulder to where Karl was leaning against the door, waiting. Kissing Alex quickly, he took his hand. "Come on. I want to get you home."

Alex nodded, looking at Karl quickly before wrapping his arm around Dustin, walking quickly with him, not caring who saw them. It was Dustin... but for how long? How long until his Daddy took him, sent him away again?

"I'd love to go home with you, Dustin," he said. "But I have to go see Daddy first. Then, if he says it's all right, I'll go with you. Okay?"

At that, Karl jumped in so quickly that Dustin faltered and almost stopped walking.

"I told you, your Daddy is in Tunisia. He told Dustin to take care of you.He'll phone you later, I don't doubt. He said that Dustin was your reward for being good."

"No, that's not true," Alex said firmly. "Why are you lying to me? My Daddy... he never rewards me that way. Never ever. I have to go to see him. He'll be mad if I don't, and he'll hurt me. Lock me up, and... make me see a doctor. I don't want to see another doctor. They hurt you too." He turned away from Karl, holding more tightly to Dustin.

"Alex!" Dustin spoke sharply. "Do you believe that Karl is your friend?"

Alex stopped, biting his lip. His friend had yelled at him... he was unsure.

"Do you... should I..." He was afraid, afraid to say the wrong thing. He searched Dustin's eyes, trying to divine what it was he wanted to hear.

"You need to tell me if you think that Karl is your friend or not." Dustin spoke more gently now, but he was insistent. "I don't want you to guess what I think. I want you to tell me what you think."

Alex took a step back. "Don't... don't hurt me? Promise? Karl's my friend... my best friend. Someday if you want... I'll tell you about him. But Karl... he ... he wants me not to hurt. He's trying to make me feel better. But I know I gotta get home."

"If Karl is your friend, why do you think he would lie to you, baby?" Dustin persisted. "You're coming with me. When the Smoker phones you, you'll feel better, okay? You know that we won't hurt you."

Alex bit his lip, thinking about this. "Sometimes you lie, to make someone feel better? Like when Daddy tells me to suck someone or sleep with them, I hardly ever want to do it, but I smile and act like I do, so they won't tell my Daddy I was bad." He looked at Dustin. "Karl just doesn't want me to feel bad. But, it's okay, Karl. If I'm good, Daddy won't hurt me. He'll just... you know. But he won't hurt me."

Karl sighed, took out his phone and dialed the number of the house in Falls Church, knowing that Spender was staying in the hotel in DC. When the person at the other end picked up, he asked to speak to Mr. Spender, beckoning Alex close to listen.

"Mr. Spender is away on business," said the bored voice at the other end of the line. "He'll be returning Thursday." Triumphantly, Karl thanked the man and then closed the phone. "Now do you believe me?"

Alex nodded, swallowing. "Okay. Okay." He stood there, holding Dustin's hand. "I'll go with you."

As the car pulled up to Dr. Werber's house, Dustin was already trying to work out how to disguise his profession from Alex. He'd heard the boy Alyosha protesting against seeing a doctor out at the airport, and had realized what a fine line he had to tread. He turned to Alex, and smiled brightly.

"This is where Heitz lives. He's a friend of mine. He's looking forward to meeting you, love." He gave Mackey a speaking look. "Karl, are you gonna come in?" Mackey shook his head at that. The fewer people were involved at this point, the better.

"I'm gonna check into a hotel. I'll call you once I get settled." They climbed out of the car and watched Karl pull away before turning to the door.

"Alex, my love. I'm so happy to see you." Dustin longed to touch him. It was hard just to stand looking at him. "Come on."

Alex nodded. "I'm glad to see you, too." During the ride, he had come back to himself, with no small amount of effort. Fragments of personalities kept vying for control, and he didn't even ... he couldn't always stop it. He was out of control. Not a state Alex Krycek enjoyed finding himself in.

He looked up at the big house. "Heitz?" he said as they started towards it. "Why does he want to meet me?"

"Because I love you, you great fool. Why else?" Dustin laughed, and risked putting out his hand to touch Alex's face very swiftly. Then, they turned together to ascend the steps to the front door. As Dustin rang the bell, he found himself praying that the doctor would understand and help his love.

Alex smiled. "Just 'cause you love me? Why should that make a difference?" Alex leaned his head on his lover's shoulder. "Wouldn't you rather go to a hotel... and just hold each other? We *have* been separated awhile, you know."

"Alex," Dustin's voice was quiet, begging to share secrets. "I don't want him to find me. If he does, he'll rape me again. Please help me. I don't want him to rape me." He cowered, as if panic stricken by the thought. "We can hold each other now, here. I told you that Heitz is my friend."

Alex wrapped an arm around him. "Daddy should never touch you. You're mine, not his. Daddy can't have you... I'll make sure. I'll go to him, and then he won't ever find you."

The door opened, and Dr. Werber stood on the threshold, dressed in shirt sleeves, and carrying a pile of books.

"Dustin," he said. "This must be your Alex. Hello, my name is Heitz." He looked around him, and then turned back to where the two men stood. "Come on in. Forgive if I don't shake hands right at the moment." He looked helplessly at the books.

Alex nodded wordlessly, and slipped inside, sleek and graceful. He stepped to one side and turned to allow Dustin to enter. He looked at Heitz, distrustfully, and when he spoke, his voice was guarded. "Hello. I'm Alex."

Dustin followed him in, and closed the door, thankfully. As Dr. Werber carried his books through into a room off the hallway, Dustin called out to him.

"I'm going to take Alex up to our room first and get him settled in. He's had a long flight and he's probably tired."

Dr Werber poked his head back around the door. "Make yourself at home, Alex. I have to go out, but I'll be back in time for dinner. See you then."

Alex nodded. "Thank you." He looked at Dustin. "I am tired. How did you know?" He smiled. "Lead the way, Little Cub."

Preceding Dustin up the wide staircase, Dustin felt his excitement growing. He had got Alex this far. Maybe some day it would be all right again. They at least stood a chance now. He wouldn't waste it, that was for sure.

"Hey, it's a 5 hour flight. I'd be tired. I extrapolated." He threw open the door to their room and gestured Alex inside. "Bathroom on the right, bed on the left, and I'm Dustin. I'll be your host this afternoon." He grinned, and watched Alex enter, then he closed the door and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, waiting.

Alex chuckled. "Dustin, Dustin, Dustin. Do you know how much I've missed you?" He walked over to him, cupping his face in the palm of his hand. "It really *is* you, isn't it?"

Alex sat beside him on the bed. "So. What have you been doing while I've been gone?"

"Oh, I've been learning new things on a daily basis," Dustin said. "First of all, I learned to kill. Then I honed that skill. I'm pretty good at it now."

Alex cuddled up to Dustin. He looked at him, with wide eyes. "He made you kill? Wha -- what did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Are you all right?" He looked at the wall, as a feeling of guilt washed over him. If Dustin had suffered because of him, because he knew him...

*It's your fault, boy. You ran, but they'll take the punishment. And I'll tell them it was you. I'll break Ivan's legs and tell him it was because of what you did. It's your fault, Alexei.*

His breath quickened a bit.

"He sent Pyotor to me that first night that you were gone. I killed him, love. I owe it all to you. You gave me my knife and I used it on him." Dustin turned his face, and lowered his lashes, thinking, that if Alex didn't kiss him soon, he would die.

Alex looked up at Dustin, opening his lips, angling for a kiss. Threading his hand through Dustin's hair, he pulled him down for a kiss... gentle at first, then harder and more insistent. "God, you taste so good... so good."

*Daddy's tasted him, too. What you have Daddy always gets.*

Alex wrapped his arm around Dustin's shoulders. "No," he said. "No. Daddy can't have you... he can't!"

"It was nothing, love. He doesn't get me. I belong to you, only you." Dustin clung tight to Alex, and laid his head against Alex's shoulder, breathing in his smell. "I killed people who'd hurt you, love. They won't do it again."

Alex let his head fall back onto the pillow. "I hate him, Dustin. I hate him and he's my Daddy... that sounds terrible. But I do. He's ruled me all my life, and I don't think I'll ever be free... I tried... ran to California." He snorted. "You see how well that worked."

"Why haven't you killed him, Alex?" Dustin asked the question, drinking in his lover's presence, and hugging it to him as he sat, as wide eyed and innocent as a hawk. "If ever there was anyone who deserved to die..."

"I... I've thought about it. How... how it would be, how it would feel. But... I can't do it, Dustin. I... every time I... you won't understand this, but if I try to plan to kill him, or when I go to strike him, I get a really sick feeling in my gut and my head. It's incapacitating. I don't know what it is, but... he's seen it. He laughs."

"That means nothing to me. Let me kill him for you." Dustin stretched out a hand to touch Alex, still afraid that he might vanish and leave him alone again. "I could rid you of him and not even care."

Alex looked at Dustin. "You couldn't kill him," he said softly. "Not him. He'll get you every time. He's everywhere. You think you're finally free, and then you turn around and realize you're deeper in it than ever before, that the bastard planned it, and was laughing at you the whole time. He'll kill you for real, Dustin. He was so mad at you. He said..." Alex swallowed. "He said you were supposed to be ... with... Hatcher." Alex closed his eyes. Somehow talking about being an intelligence whore in front of his love was worse than living it.

After all, he'd done it all his life. It was his station in life; the role he was cast in.

"Alex, what would you say if I told you that Hatcher is dead?" Dustin ducked his head, smiling. He could remember the clean bite of his knife ending Hatcher's life, and he thrilled to think how happy Alex would be at the news.

"Hatcher... he's dead?" Alex looked at Dustin. Hatcher, the man who'd tortured him, used him for years, promised to take him away from Spender but never did -- he was dead? "How... why... whe... how..."

"It's why I can't let the Smoker find me, love. I killed him. He wanted to use me the way he's used you so often and I... I saw red. I stabbed him with my lucky knife." He felt in his pocket, and brought out the knife that Alex had given him. "You helped me be strong, love."

"Did I?" Alex looked at the knife, softly running a finger over the tip. "I remember this knife. I remember who gave it to me. He was a doctor." Alex drew in a breath as the memory came back. He tried to relax and verbalize his feelings... maybe that would help. "His name was Dr. Wertzgaard, Wilheim Wertzgaard. He was the one who... when I was growing up and I... wanted love, he tried to..." Alex bit his lip, making it bleed, as time unraveled for him and for a moment...

He was there, on the bed, being held down, legs forced open and... it felt like they were going to tear him apart, split him in half. He screamed and cried, but they only held him tighter, slapping him, telling him this was love, the love he said he craved, the love he needed, the only love he'd ever know, and this was the way to get it...

"I was eight, I think, the first time? Maybe seven," Alex said in a small, uncertain voice, looking at Dustin with eyes wide.

Dustin felt tears coming to his eyes. "You know something? I killed him too, love." He moved until he was lying alongside Alex and took him in his arms, burrowing in against his shoulder as he spoke. "He thought I was you. You should have seen his face, my love. It was wonderful." He raised his eyes to Alex. "Let me kill Spender for you, Alex. I could do it, and you would be free."

Alex looked stunned. "Wertzgaard... dead...?" He smiled. "I hated that man. I always hated him." He laughed. "But me, free? Where've you been the past month or so? You must realize... I've finally realized... that I'll never be free. Never. Even if you could kill... him, there would always be another... and another after that. You know it's not just him, and he's not even the man in charge of... you know there are others?"

He stroked Dustin's cheek softly. "He took you to some meetings and stuff, didn't he, love? My God, what did he do to you, to my precious Little Cub, my love..."

"You're mine, Alex. Nobody else will ever have you. Not now, love. I can't bear to think of what you've been through. I'd kill them all for you. Just tell me who and I'll do it. Want me to bring that old bastard's cock back to you? I could cut it off for you and bring it back as a trophy. Would you like me to?" Dustin pushed himself up on one elbow, and cradled Alex's face in his hands.

Alex laughed, and punched Dustin's shoulder playfully. "Bring me Spender's cock. All right. Go on with you." He shook his head, bemused.

"You know, Dustin... you can be pretty funny when you try."

"You can think that I'm joking if you like, but I was never more serious. I hate him for the things that he did to you. He only took me downstairs once, and that was the day I left him. Next time I see him, he'll be a dead man." Dustin paused, hovering over Alex, willing him to hold him close and make love to him, not daring to make the first move.

"Then I will make sure you never see him again. Because he will kill you for sure if he sees you... I couldn't bear that." Alex ran a hand under Dustin's shirt, casually peeling it off, and over his head.

He scooted down, so he could lick at his lover's chest.

He froze, noticing burns on Dustin's nipples. "Love... he's hurt you." Alex growled. "For that, I'll k -" Suddenly he felt blinding pain in his head, and fell back, gasping. "What did he do to you..."

"It's nothing, love. Nothing at all. I told you. He did it once, and I left him. I wasn't going to permit him to treat me like a slave. I would be no use to you if he broke me." Dustin ran his fingers through the soft hair. "But he's so old. I could sever that old cock of his and bring it home to you. " He chuckled. "I could pretend, and he'd think I was you. Wouldn't that be a surprise? Let me be a surprise for him. Let me be the greatest and last surprise of his life. Let me bring you his cock, please, Alex?"

Alex twisted, arching up to meet Dustin's body. He ran his hand over Dustin's chest, reaching to lick at the burns on his nipples. "Love..." he said between licks. "If I did let you do this, you know that I'd have to be there. Near you. So he couldn't hurt you."

He took one of Dustin's nipples into his mouth, sucking at it, biting at it gently.

"Dustin... love. I worry about you... and I... I don't deserve someone like you. I deserve what I get... I must have done something, sometime, that I have to pay for..."

"Hush, Alex. Don't talk that way." He raised his face, desperately wanting to kiss, begging Alex's permission with his eyes. "You are the most precious thing in my life. You killed to set me free, and I will do the same for you."

"But... don't you see... you're going to die trying. Minnow... let's just say he wasn't much of a challenge." Alex smirked, then grew serious again.

"Minnow wasn't like Spender. Spender's smarter..." He paused to gather his thoughts. "Hey... does he know... does he know you're still alive, or does he think you're dead?"

"Oh, I'm sure that he knows I'm alive. You want to hear the story?" Dustin lay back down again. It was obviously not time yet for kisses. He felt curiously bereft, as if he was alone again.

"Yeah... tell me. Tell me the whole thing, baby," Alex said, alert now. He had to keep Dustin safe, and he was going to meet with Skinner and Mulder in two days... he needed to be sensible, in control. He bit his lip.

"I need to know what happened."

"He got mad with me because I didn't come for him. We'd been talking about you and I said that I loved you. He had me down in his cellar and burned me... beat me a little, and then he seemed to change his mind. He told me that he wanted me to help him and he took me with him to see a man called Skinner. He made me pretend to be you. He found out about some palm pilot thing that you have. I wasn't too sure about it, except that Spender was annoyed. Then he took me and showed me your room. Oh, Alex..." Dustin buried his face in Alex's neck. "I felt so bad for you." Dustin paused, his voice not quite steady.

"In the evening there was a party, and Spender told me I was to whore myself to this old man, in exchange for a fetus. Can you believe that? I didn't do it. I killed the old man instead and then ran. That's how I came to be here. I brought some of your things for you though."

"Oh, Dustin..." Alex looked away for a moment. Control, damnit, he had to keep control. Where was Sascha when you needed him?

"What was said at Skinner's, Dustin? That's important. Do you remember? And... who is Heitz, anyway? You never did tell me who he was."

"They wanted to know what Mulder is working on. That's all. It was the Oregon thing. The alien spacecraft... but you know all of that." Dustin sighed. "You know it already."

"Yeah, but the Palm Pilot... nanotechnology. He say anything about that?" Alex stroked Dustin's face.

Turning his face into Alex's hand, Dustin willed Alex to love him at last. "Not much," he admitted. "Only that you had it, and that you had used it to control Skinner. Skinner thought that I was you, and he hated me. I could see that in his eyes."

Alex chuckled at that. "Oh, boy, does he ever. Thing is what I'm doing, it's for his own good. He just doesn't know it yet." He bit his lip for a moment, then turned to Dustin, running a hand over his own shirt lazily. He'd lost weight while in the Middle East.

"Are you... are you still my slut?" he whispered, with a saucy grin.

He was back in control as Krycek now, and it felt great.

"Only yours, Alex." The response was whispered, Dustin's voice was too full of emotion to speak louder. "Yours for whatever you want of me."

Alex looked at Dustin from beneath his lashes. "Will you undress me, love? Slowly, so I can be happy to feel each soft touch of your skin... it's s good to be in your arms again."

Laughing, Dustin sat up, turning to run his hands over Alex's fine body, fingers straying to the buttons of his shirt and popping them open deftly as they traveled. Sliding his palms inside the shirt, he ran his hands up to push the shirt off his shoulders. "I love you, Alex." He dropped a kiss on Alex's shoulder and then transferred his attention to the pants, unbuckling the belt and opening the fly.

Alex moaned, and sighed. "God, Dustin... feels so good to know it's you there." As his fly was unzipped, he bucked forward, pressing his cock into Dustin's hand.

Dustin stroked it gently, and then turned his attention to the soft fabric of Alex's pants, easing them down over his hips and leaning forward to place a kiss on the rosy red penis head. He removed pants, underwear and socks, folding them neatly and laying them aside. When Alex lay wearing only his open shirt, he paused, drinking in the sight of his lover's arousal and shivering with the strength of his desire.

Alex looked up at Dustin, eyes dark with lust. "Do you know how beautiful you are?" He reached up to touch Dustin; bring him down for another kiss. He rolled, so he and Dustin were on their sides, lying together. Alex pressed his erection into Dustin's thigh, moaning. "Do you know how long I've waited for this? Every night... I wanted this." He kissed Dustin's lips. "And this." He gripped Dustin's cock in his hand.

"This." Alex passed the hand between Dustin's legs, and circled his asshole.

"And just this." He brought his hand up and wrapped it around Dustin's shoulders, squeezing tightly. "I love you..."

Dustin raised his face to offer his mouth to Alex, arching into his touch with something like desperation. He spread his legs wide and squirmed against Alex, willing him to touch him, tease him, take him.

"I've missed you so much, love. So damned much." He lay, eyes shining and lips parted, willing Alex to kiss him, and when Alex claimed his mouth, he moaned, and pushed his tongue against Alex's, tasting again the sweet mouth of his lover.

Alex felt as though he might cry from the joy of being in Dustin's arms again. "This feels... this feels so right, baby. So right." Alex ran his hand down again to grip Dustin's cock, stroking it firmly, slowly, teasingly. His own cock was hard, bursting. It jutted painfully against Dustin's hip. Alex trailed a finger back to Dustin's asshole, lightly, asking permission.

He pressed his finger into that tightness, feeling it close around him, snug.

"Baby," he said huskily. "Got any lube?"

Dustin didn't process the words for a moment, lost as he was in the joy of having Alex hold him again. Alex was home, safe, and loving him, and he was content to be in the warmth of his embrace, to feel the slippery passion of his kiss. Alex had to ask him again before he noticed, and then pulled away to reach for the small bottle that Alex had requested. Alex was going to make love to him, and he almost sobbed with joy.

He took the almost empty bottle and, not wanting to break contact, Alex fumbled it open while kissing Dustin passionately, tongue mapping every tooth as he applied the last of the lube to his cock, then to Dustin's ass. He stroked a finger, then another, into Dustin, scissoring them to loosen him. "Love, my love..."

Alex rolled so Dustin was below him on the bed, looking up. He gazed at him lustily, growling softly at the heart-stopping sight. He gripped his cock, and grinned.

"Spread 'em," he growled.

Deliberately, Dustin spread his knees wide and brought them up to wrap around Alex's body.

"Consider them spread," he murmured deep in his throat as he nibbled along Alex's jawline. Alex was going to erase the old man from his body. He was going to claim him again as his own, and Dustin found himself holding his breath as he waited for it to happen.

Alex ran his hand over Dustin's legs, over his knees and up to his thighs. He could hardly believe he was with his love again, but... here he was. He could feel the blood pulsing in his cock as he positioned himself just at Dustin's anus. Looking deeply into Dustin's eyes, he thrust in hard and fast, slipping in all the way to the root. He fell forward, nipping Dustin's neck and shoulders, and began to fuck him, slow and deep.

"So good, Dustin... you know how good you feel?"

Shaking with the need for his love, Dustin gazed up at him with eyes that shone with adoration. Raising his arms to pull Alex down he breathed into Alex's mouth.

"I know how good YOU feel. Do you have any idea how much I prayed for you to be here with me like this again?" He fixed his mouth to Alex's, moaning.

"I... if it's anything like the way I felt... God, Dustin. It's almost profane, now, but whenever I had to... you know... I used to imagine it was you. At night, I'd hug my pillow... and you know, one night I had this dream, it was so real..." He nipped Dustin's throat again. "But most of all I was afraid. Afraid you'd learn all my deep, dark secrets, and then you wouldn't want me anymore. I'm so thankful that's not true..."

He sped up his thrusts.

"God! Dustin! Fuck, yeah!"

"I dreamed of you too. At night, I took your knife to bed with me, because it made me feel closer to you, I was glad of that when Pyotor came. Every time that old bastard fucked me, I could only think of you, and how you'd suffered it. It kept me going." Dustin closed his eyes as his breath began to shorten. "Oh, God, do that, yes."

Alex ground his hips into Dustin, growling. "You're mine now, though. Never have to fuck him again. I'll make sure he doesn't touch you. You're too good for him." He thrust in harder, deeper, faster. "Too good for me, really, but if you're offering it to me, who am I to turn it down?" He bit at Dustin's neck, breath quickening as his balls drew up tight. He gripped Dustin's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

The orgasm, when it hit, did so with an intensity that was all pervasive. Dustin's body locked up and all he could do was pant and scream Alex's name as the fire swept through him, igniting each nerve, boiling from his balls to force the flood of sperm from his body. Pleasure so intense that it stopped his breath spiraled up from the base of his spine along his cock and out to tingle everywhere in his body.

As the feelings finally began to fade, he raised his eyes to Alex, and held his gaze.

"God, I love you."

Alex flexed a final time before he shut his eyes... it was a sunburst, supernova, white-hot and blinding. The rush of pleasure temporarily took him away, away from his body, he felt light, floating, above all and only Dustin could reach him...

"Dustin... oh, Dustin," he called, over and over.

As he came down from the high, he brushed a kiss onto Dustin's sweaty forehead. "Love... my sweet love. I never want to leave you again."

Alex slipped out of Dustin, and they rolled a little so that they were face to face. "Leave me? Like I'll ever let that happen now. No, my lover, you are gonna stay here with me if I have to nail your foot to the floor." Dustin spoke with a grin, but there was no doubt in his mind that he meant it, for all of that.

Alex grinned back, and stroked his hand lightly over Dustin's flank. "You know what though? You were right about one thing. I am tired." He yawned, but tried to stifle it. "D'we have time for a nap?"

He looked at Dustin. "But first, tell me about our host. How long have you known him?" His tone was casual, and sleepy. He closed his eyes.

"It feels like forever," whispered Dustin, huskily. "He's been really useful for research into stuff for one of my daytime soaps. He gives me technical information that we are using in a whole bunch of the scenes. I don't suppose that soaps are your thing though." He grinned at Alex once more and stroked his face. "I couldn't sleep last night either. Too excited. A nap would be a wonderful idea."

Alex yawned again. "Can't say I watch soaps. Actually, I can't believe you'd produce one! Why do you? Money?" Alex sighed, and curled up against Dustin. Feeling sane and whole for the first time he could remember in a long time, Krycek began to drift towards sleep.

The dusk had cast shadows in the room when Dustin arose. Pulling on his clothes he dropped a kiss on Alex's brow and turned to descend for dinner, leaving Alex still sleeping deeply. Walking into the kitchen, he found that Karl had already arrived, and was sharing a glass of wine with Heitz. Taking the proffered goblet, he hooked a chair with his foot and parked himself at the table.

"He's sleeping now, but I'm so worried about him," he said.

Karl took a sip of his wine. "I'm worried about him, too," he said. "Last night he was so... he's not doing well. I don't know what they've done to him, but one minute he's in control, then he's Alexei, then Alyosha... Sascha even paid me a visit last night."

"Sascha? Who is Sascha?" Dr. Werber frowned and shook his head. "This is so complex." He beckoned to the two men to follow him into the dining room.

"He's the killer," said Dustin, succinctly. "He's the one that does what's needed when Alex can't cope."

Karl followed the men, swallowing. He didn't know how Dustin would take what he had to say next, but it had to be said.

Sitting down in a chair, Karl said, "When I got to Oregon I traced Alex's whereabouts through his car rental - I know several of his aliases, and he'd used one he used while a teenager. I don't know if that's significant or not. Anyway. I went to his hotel room to wait for him.

"When he came in that evening, he was Sascha. He came in, and, I'm sorry, there's really no other way to put this - Sascha raped me, against the wall, brutally. No preamble. He said... he said, 'You were always such a wimp. You and Alexei.' Then, after he came, he - went to Alexei. When he saw what he had done, he was fearful, ashamed. He scooted away as if I might hurt him, and said we had to hide from Sergei."

He looked at Dustin. "At which point I called you."

Werber placed covered dishes on the table and invited the two men to help themselves. He'd pursed his lips in thought as he watched them ladle rice and stir fry onto their plates.

"How often do these personalities manifest themselves? What do you think causes the transition between them?" He accepted the serving spoon from Dustin as he spoke.

"He was the little boy when I met him at the airport. He seemed edgy because he wasn't going to be taken straight back to Spender. It took forever to talk him out of it. He was trying to suck me off in the airport and didn't seem to know who I was. If Karl hadn't been there, I don't know what I'd have done." Dustin made a quick grimace as he described the scene. "I had to mislead him tonight. He thinks that you are an advisor for a soap, Heitz."

Karl looked at Dustin. "Do you think that's wise? When he realizes that you've deceived him --" He swallowed, remembering his own lies. "His programming is so deep. He really believes he has to get back to Spender. And if he doesn't, or if he has violent thoughts toward Spender, he becomes physically ill."

He met Heitz's eyes. "He thinks he's bad, and he thinks... I don't know. He thinks he's worthless."

He looked at Dustin. "How is he now?"

"He's sleeping. He was very tired after... after I took him up to the room. We both fell asleep together, and he was flat out when I left. Karl, let Heitz advise you about something on "Doctor, Doctor." That way we're not lying. He's so adamant that he doesn't want any doctors that might hurt him, I don't know how to stop him from getting upset when he finds out what we have planned." Dustin sat, fork in hand, not eating as he pondered what the solution might be.

Karl nodded. "Okay." He looked at Heitz. "Bet you never thought you'd sink so low as to be a consult on daytime TV," he cracked.

Then, to Dustin, "Upstairs... he was in control? Not Alyosha, or Alexei?"

"He was himself. He kinda came to himself as we got to the front door this afternoon, and by the time Heitz opened the door, he was in charge of his emotions again. We had another little skirmish later, when he started to talk about going to that old bastard again, but I somehow managed to sidetrack that." Dustin blushed. "Making love seemed to bring him to himself properly."

Karl felt a lump in his throat at the mention of Alex and Dustin making love, but he swallowed it. "He's probably worn out now. But I guarantee you, in the morning he'll want to go to see Spender."

He looked at Dustin. "What if you went in his place? Marita and I talked a bit last night. He has to meet with Skinner and Mulder tomorrow, and then see Spender again. What do you think? Can you do it?"

"We can arrange for Alex to be unable to go to his appointment simply enough, Dustin. I can provide you with suitable medication without problem. It would be best for him were he not to get into Mr. Spender's clutches." Dr. Werber spoke unexpectedly, startling Dustin, who had been pondering the question of whether he would be convincing impersonating Alex.

"They had no problems believing that I was Alex before. I fooled Skinner at the FBI. It's worth a try. I'll do it for Alex. I need a gun though. I won't go anywhere near him without a gun."

Karl nodded. "Marita will give you one. You'll be working with her - she'll be there, so at no time will you be alone with Spender. Or the others, for that matter. We discussed it quite a bit, actually. Marita understands the situation with Alex, and wanted me to convey to you that if she can be of any assistance, all we have to do is call."

"Marita?" Dustin shivered a little. He hadn't forgotten her attempts to teach him self defense. "She's going to get a kick out of this, isn't she? Wait ‘til I tell her what her lessons did for me." He took a tentative forkful of chicken and vegetables. "She taught me to kill in 10 easy lessons. I guess it's only right that I show her what I've learned."

Karl nodded. "Yeah, her prize pupil and all that. She's been worried about you two. Said John's been complaining cause she talks about you a lot." He laughed.

"Seriously, though. You feel you can do this? Sometimes, under drugs, Alex has bad dreams, or a 'bad trip'. While Dustin's gone, Heitz, how will you handle that?"

"Karl, I hope that I can convince you to be here with us while Dustin is out on his errand. It will be an opportunity to learn a little of Alex's condition." Dr. Werber took another mouthful of chicken, and paused to chew thoughtfully. "If he reacts to the situation, then it will be an opportunity for me to experience in person the type of psychotic break that occurs."

Nodding again, Karl considered. "I'll stay here, then, when Dustin's gone. For Alex." He met Dustin's gaze, holding it, wondering if Dustin knew how lucky he was to have Alex's heart. The familiar lump came up again, and he took a mouthful of rice.

After a few moments, he said, "I'll be here for Alex, for whatever he needs. You know that," he added softly, looking at Dustin.

"I know that it isn't for me. I know that it's Alex that you love. I don't know what to say to you, Karl. Thank you." Dustin laid down his fork and sat, head hung low.

Karl felt bad. He reached over and laid his hand over Dustin's wrist. "If Alex loves you, then... then I love you, too. Or at least I can't hate you. It's just..." Karl couldn't finish. He withdrew his hand, and looked down at his plate, suddenly having lost his appetite.

"So we agree?" Dr. Werber was busy collecting plates and dishes, and Dustin rose to help him carry them into the kitchen. "I'll add a little something to his coffee at breakfast tomorrow. Karl can assist me while you go and see the cause of all this commotion." He bent down to the oven and brought out a pie. "Would either of you like dessert?"

"Sure," Karl said. "Please. It smells delicious." He paused. "Alex will not appreciate you doping his coffee. What will you give him?"

"It would be best if we could give him Demerol. That works very quickly, but it needs to be administered intravenously. Perhaps," he swung round to face Dustin. "You would consider giving him such a shot?"

"I I could..." Dustin looked afraid. "I'll try."

"You'll have to be sneaky about it," Karl cautioned. "Maybe even give it to him in his sleep. I'm talking spy stuff here. But, you wanted to be a spy with him, didn't you, Dustin?" Karl said, just this side of nastily. "Now's your chance to prove how stealthy you can be. Prove you're good enough to be his partner."

There was a pause as Dustin raised his chin in the defiant gesture that had become second nature to him, and which made him look so much like Alex.

"If he believes that I'm good enough, Karl," he said, harshly, "that is good enough for me. I haven't noticed him asking for you lately."

"Yeah?" Karl said. "I bet he wouldn't push me away. Sascha took me last night." Karl wasn't sure what that proved, but he felt he had to say something. Dustin had stung him with his words.

"My bad. I thought that we were talking of Alex." Dustin was angry now... and it showed.

"Gentlemen, we are not going to assist Alex if we squabble, are we?" Dr. Werber spoke sharply, and Dustin had the grace to look a little shame-faced.

"I'm sorry, Karl. Guess I'm just afraid for him." Dustin stood up and began to clear away dishes, trying to distract himself from the worries he was facing.

"Yeah, me too. Sorry, Dustin," Karl mumbled. "I'm worried, too. I guess we're all under stress. But you're right, Heitz. We won't do Alex any good if we're at each other's throats." He began helping Dustin with the dishes.

Dr. Werber smiled and shook his head. Leaving the kitchen to the industrious pair he disappeared into his office, returning a few moments later with a syringe filled with liquid. He held it out to Dustin with a caution about ensuring that there was no air in the needle before injecting it. Dustin took it in its case, and slipped it into his pocket.

Karl watched Dustin take the needle, biting his lip. He hated to see Alex drugged, even though it was for the best. At least he'd be there during the day tomorrow.

He looked at Dustin as they put the last few dishes into the dishwasher. "I have to be getting back. I'm meeting with Marita tonight. Anything I should tell her? Is there a certain gun you like?"

"Yeah, a nice big one, with plenty of bullets," he said, only half joking. He went to Karl and hugged him briefly. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Karl hugged Dustin back, kissing his cheek. "Sure thing, Dustin. Say hi to Alex for me." He turned to leave.

Waking in the morning next to Alex was precious to Dustin. His first urge was to look his fill on his love, whose face had lost all stresses and anxieties in sleep, and was pure in repose. His next thought was for the needle that he had to use, and he quickly rolled to find the case he'd concealed between the mattress and the frame. Taking it into his hand, he prepared it quickly as he'd been shown, watching a little of the liquid ooze from the end, and then he took a deep breath, turned, and inserted it into the curve of Alex's buttock, depressing the plunger rapidly.

As fast as he could, he removed it and slipped it back under the mattress.

Alex moaned, and turned to face Dustin. "Ah. Musta hit something... how are you, pretty boy?" he smiled, reaching over to give Dustin a kiss.

Waking next to his love was the best feeling in the world, and he wanted to savor it. Even if he would have to leave later...

He ran a hand over Dustin's face, mapping it into his memory.

Closing his eyes, Dustin snuggled against Alex, slipping his arms around the man's warm body and burrowing against him.

"Feel really good. Think I'll just stay here with you all day and hold you like this," he murmured.

Alex snuggled in. "That'd be great. But I gotta go see my Daddy later. You know that." His head was beginning to feel swimmy, and his throat dry.

Quickly putting two and two together, he looked at Dustin as the drug began to take effect.

"You - you drugged me," he said simply.

"I love you," replied Dustin, holding Alex still as he attempted to push him away. "I can't bear to let you go near that man."

Alex moaned. "You drugged me. Don't you know *he* used to do that? What are you going to do to me while I'm under?" he spat, trying to get out of Dustin's embrace.

Releasing him, Dustin sat back, his face a mask of worry. "Don't you know me better than that, love? I won't do anything to you except love you. This is to save you, not to hurt you."

"Dustin... I love you. Please, don't hurt me..." Alex's voice trailed away. "Don't hurt me like he used to... that's all I ask." He couldn't think straight. His brain was fuzzy and he couldn't even see. He closed his eyes, but all he saw, all he smelled was the Pit... He sucked in a breath. "Don't... don't..."

"You're safe, Alex. Nobody will hurt you ever again." Dustin slipped out of the bed and began to dress, choosing his clothes with care, and topping them with Alex's fine woolen coat. Bending, he kissed Alex and then turned to leave the room.

"Love you..." Alex was fighting a losing battle to stay awake, because the Demerol was affecting him, putting him back into the Pit, back into hell, because he was being a bad boy, wasn't where he was supposed to be, no way...

**SLAM!* The key was turned in the lock behind him, and he heard Sergei's laughter. Whirling, he faced the man. There was Sergei, naked and huge, holding a knotted whip in one hand, a cattle prod in the other. There was nowhere to run...*

A small scream escaped him... little more than a gasp.

His eyes flew open. "Dustin, don't leave me here. Don't leave me to him. Please... please."

"Alex, Alex, don't let yourself slip. Hold on." Dustin stumbled back to the bed and sank to his knees, fumbling for his phone while he did so. His thumb hit the speed dial even while he was reaching for Alex, and by the time Karl had answered, he was holding Alex to him again.

"Karl? Are you on your way? I don't want to leave him alone. Please hurry."

Karl was instantly on his feet, though he'd been dozing when he answered the phone. Hoping to take a shower at Werber's later, he slipped into his clothes as he spoke. "Yeah, yeah. I can leave right now. What's up? How is he?" Dustin had sounded anxious and he heard Alex whimper in the background.

"He's had the Demerol, and he keeps begging me not to leave him with... someone. I can't tell who he means. I don't know what to do, but I'm scared to leave him alone. I need to have someone with him, someone who loves him." Dustin's voice faltered as he felt his throat close with the tears he was trying to hold back. "Just come, please."

Mackey finished shrugging into his jacket. "Leaving just now. Want me to stay on the line?" He left his room, and hurried out to the car.

Alex moaned softly. "Please.. I'll be a good boy... anything you want... anything... just don't hurt me..."

*Sergei sneered. "So, he'll be good now, eh? Now that there's real pain involved..." He reached for his groin with the cattle prod.*

On the bed, Krycek's body jerked, spasming from the electric shock that was so real in his mind. "Sergei... please, don't... I'll be good. I'll be *so* good. I'll suck off Vlad if you want me to, too. I'll do anything..."

*"Not a chance, boy."*

"Alex, Alex," Dustin called him, held his face and kissed him. "Alex, please come back to me. Alex, it's Dustin."

He left Alex's side reluctantly to go in search of Dr. Werber.

Alex moaned on the bed, curling into a ball, as, in his mind's eye, Sergei advanced on him with the whip...

*"No..." He tried to make himself as small as possible, knees to chest, arms around, head tucked in. Sergei sneered, and kicked his kidney, hard.*

*"Lie flat, boy, or kneel. You know how you're supposed to position yourself."*

Alex whimpered. "No more, please, no more..."

Dustin had found Dr. Werber, and now he ran back into the room with the doctor following close behind. Throwing himself to his knees again, he shook Alex's shoulder.

"Alex? Alex, it's Dustin."

Alex stretched out, obeying Sergei. He rolled, exposing his stomach. "Whatever you give me... I deserve it," he murmured.

He winced at imaginary blows.

Dr. Werber stood watching the two men for a minute, and then sat down beside Alex, saying in a firm voice, "Come Alexei, listen to your Daddy. This is no way to behave. You are frightening Dustin. Nobody will hurt you. Be good for your Daddy."

Alex's breath became tight, and he lay still. Then he began rolling his head around, till he found Werber's thigh. Reaching for his zipper, Alex murmured, "I'll be good. Just don' hurt me. I'll be *so* good, Daddy... I promise."

Dr. Werber's voice was sharp as he said, "Alexei? Do you hear me? Alexei? Listen to me. Your Daddy tells you that you must listen to my voice. You will sleep now, and when you awaken, you will be Alex, and the little boy within you will be content to be loved by Dustin. Do you understand me?"

Alexei swallowed. "I understand. Do you want me to suck you off first?" Sucking was a reflex, and it calmed him and soothed him to suck, as he'd learned from experience that was the way to get love, affection, and he was never hurt when he did that. When he was good. "Please... let me be good for you, Daddy."

"Alexei? You are a good boy today, and you need not work. Today is your day to play. Karl is coming to see you. You will like that, won't you?"

Alexei nodded. "Karl is fun. He's my best friend. Can I hold him? Will you let us lay in the sun, by the river?"

"If the weather is good, you may go with Karl to the river. If it is raining, you may stay and watch the TV. This is your day, Alexei. Now you need to sleep for a little while and when you wake up, Karl will be here to see you. Can you do that for me, Alexei?" As he finished speaking, Dr. Werber studied Dustin's strained face dispassionately. The man was close to breaking point, it appeared. This was a terrible thing that had been done to his lover.

Alexei nodded. "Sleep. Okay, Daddy. Thank you." A small smile touched his lips as Alex blissfully faded into safe, deep sleep... warm and cozy.

Dustin scrubbed at his eyes as he thanked the doctor, tiredness and tears both making them sting. Stooping to kiss Alex on the lips, he straightened and walked out of the bedroom, marching downstairs to keep Alex's appointments.

Marita was at the E Street Bar and Grille, as they'd arranged when Dustin called her cell earlier. She idly stirred her coffee as she waited for his arrival. When he came through the door, she started in spite of herself. He looked so much like Alex... even carried himself the same way, with that laconic smirk and arrogant gaze.

"Al - Dustin." She blushed.

"Hello, Marita." Dustin put out a hand to grip hers. "How was the Middle East? I hope you came back in better shape than Alex." He ordered a cappuccino and sat down beside her, looking around him as he did so.

Marita nodded. "I know I did. God, what they've done to him... What struck me most was the boy, Gunter, he tried to save. He... he tried..." Marita looked at him. "For all he's been through, he's such a good person. His heart is warm..." She looked away.

"Did you bring me a gun? I'm going to need one before the day is done."

"I brought you a Sig Sauer P228. I think you'll like it." She bent down and placed a mundane paper bag by his feet of the kind that millions of mothers use to pack their children's school lunches every day.

Over the table, she passed him a file folder. "This is what Krycek found in Oregon. He sent it to me. I need you to read and memorize this, because you'll have to talk to Mulder with some authority."

He took the gun and put it in his pocket, still in its paper bag, then opened the file. Slowly the pages turned as Dustin began to read. After a few minutes, he raised his head again. "Marita, what is Mulder to Alex? Were they lovers? Why does Mulder hate him?"

Marita sighed. "They were lovers. Alex... really loved him. Mulder was arrogant, taking what he could from Alex, blowing hot and cold on him, generally jerking him around. God. Sometimes when I talked to him... there was such pain. By all rights, Alex should hate Mulder, but against all reason, he still seems to love him. To hold out hope... Alex was assigned to Mulder, as a partner, in 1994, as an attempt to sabotage the X-Files. Instead, he found love, a haven, a way out... or so he thought. Poor Alex. He couldn't see how single-minded Mulder was. He was like a puppy. Spender punished him for that... for failing his mission. But Spender wasn't exactly playing fair. He never told Alex anything." Marita looked away. "I know you'll treat Alex better than Mulder. He doesn't need to be hurt again."

Dustin read over the notes once more, saying nothing as he committed the information to memory. He'd got a score to settle with Mulder then, had he? Well, he would see. He turned to Marita once more.

"Do you actually believe all of this stuff? Aliens? Abductions? Isn't it all a bad sci-fi night?"

Marita frowned. "Dustin. You have to understand. This is very real. Not sci-fi at all." She sighed. "You've been in Hollywood too long, you know that?"

"The aliens *are* real, and I promise you, they *are* taking people. I've seen it. I know how it sounds, but I can't deny what I've seen. And had in me. I had the Oil in me, Dustin. That's proof for me. I've also seen them gestate inside of people, at Consortium facilities. That's also proof. And I've seen the results when one gestates in an uncontrolled environment. I'd show you, but right now I really don't have time. Later, if you really want to know."

Pale faced and tight lipped, Dustin handed her back the file in silence. Sliding from his chair and almost consciously affecting Alex's sensual mode of movement, Dustin stood waiting for Marita.

"Okay. I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Shall we go and do it?" He projected a confidence that he was far from feeling as he assisted her to rise and then took her elbow to lead her out of the café.

"We shall. Thank you, kind Sir." She smiled. "You're doing great," she said. "Hey. Even I thought you were Alex at first. And Skinner thought you were Alex." They crossed the street, and walked towards the Hoover building.

Alex might have known the Hoover Building, but Dustin had only been there once before. He took the badge that Marita passed to him and affixed it to his coat, then followed her down into the parking lot beneath the FBI building. As she used her pass to operate the elevator, he felt the strange fluttering of nerves inside his belly. This was really happening.

Marita smiled at Dustin, playfully, to put him at ease. "Relax. The first thing they teach you in spy school is that if you walk with purpose, and as if you have every right to be where you are, then you can pretty much go where you please."

"Yeah?" Dustin paused for a minute, his hand pressed to his forehead, and then he straightened up, and strode forward once more, assuming Alex's strut to the degree that Marita stopped and stared, causing him to turn and look back at her. "What?" he asked, a grin on his face.

"You do that so well. I feel I'm with my partner again." She smiled. "We worked really well together. I know you're going to take him to safety... but damn, I'm gonna miss him. He's a good agent, as well as a friend." She led him to the elevator, and pressed the button for the floor where Skinner's office was. "We'll go to the basement with Skinner after this."

She smiled. "I'm sorry. I just can't get over how much like Alex you are. How much you've picked up."

Dustin paused for a moment, a desolate look on his face. "He was so sad today. I may save him, but he won't ever want me again, I betrayed him and he was right out there with all the pain and agony he's ever experienced." He raised pained eyes to her. "I had to, don't you see that? I couldn't let him go back to Spender."

Marita nodded. "He used to have the most frightful nightmares. Tossing, turning, crying out. All I could do was reassure him as best I could, and I felt so damned helpless. He never... He never had a chance to..."

She bit her lip. What was this? She was usually the Ice Queen. She raised her eyes to Dustin's; unable to mask her emotions so she didn't even try.

And, at this point, she hoped she and Dustin were beyond that.

"I know you wouldn't ever do anything to hurt Alex. I... I once betrayed him to keep him from Spender, too. The Englishman took him... my father. He almost seemed to have gotten through to him. He wanted to kill Spender. My father told him not to. I didn't know why until later, when he sacrificed himself to Mulder's crusade, giving his life for Scully's." She sighed. "We've all lost people in this game, Dustin. Why do we do it? I guess I got into it... I was ambitious and idealistic. Straight out of college... I was a fool."

There was a moment of silence that neither of them seemed to want to break, and then by mutual consent, they resumed their path. "What do you think that Spender wants this damned UFO for, Marita?" Dustin seemed nervous, babbling without thought as if he needed to hear his own voice in order to prove he still existed. They stepped into the elevator and Marita selected the third floor.

Marita narrowed her eyes. "I think he means to save his own sorry skin and sell out humanity for his own gain. All he wants is power. You know, it would almost be worth it, poetic justice, for him alone to be spared, so he alone would be human, as he watched the aliens enslave and then take over the rest of humankind. He's such a fucking greedy bastard," she said in a voice full of pain. "He uses you, and he uses you, until there's nothing left, and then he uses you some more. Then, when you're lying there, wishing to die, he suddenly makes you well again, so he can do it all over."

She looked at Dustin. "You wanna know what the Consortium is, Dustin? It's hell. I mean it. Agony for all eternity." She looked at him.

"You know we're going to kill him, right?"

His face as he met her eyes was as cold and remote as ever she'd seen Alex's. It was an expression she'd never seen before on Dustin's face, and she was taken aback. When he smiled, the cruelty on his face was unmistakable.

"Oh, dear me, yes. He's going to die. It won't be long, but I know that he's going to die." He relaxed, and his expression returned to rest. "He seems to want this Fox Mulder to be around, doesn't he? You'd think that with the kind of annoyance he's been to Spender's plans that he'd have blown him away long ago. Why do you suppose that is?"

Marita sighed. "Who knows for sure? Hah. Who am I trying to kid? He's... I believe... Spender may be Fox's true father. Certainly he was Samantha's." She raised her eyes to Dustin's. "Don't look so surprised. You know how Alex grew up, always being goaded to be better than Fox, who Spender happily showered with love and praise, and scarcely looked at Alex, even when he beat Fox. It was what was expected, nothing special. But Fox... Fox was coddled. And not even aware. True, they were young and Spender called Alex a different name, but when he saw Alex again, as his partner, he didn't even fucking remember him. The boy he'd played with, seen hurting... he never cared for Alex. And Alex... always looked up to Fox. I always hated him for that. He should have been taken, not his sister, and spared Alex the heartache." Her jaw was set firmly as she barely contained her emotions.

"He tried so hard..."

"You think that he cares about this Mulder guy, or is it all just another way of putting my Alex down?" The cold gleam was back in the green eyes, and he had an air of arrogance about him that was perfectly in character. He recognized the corridor, recognized the door that lay part way along it. This was where he'd come with Spender that day.

Marita knocked on the door and then entered without waiting, leaving Dustin to follow after her. The blonde woman at the desk looked up at them and frowned, stabbing a button on her telephone and starting to speak.

Marita paused outside the door and whispered to him, "Who, Alex? Alex loves Mulder, it's hero worship. As for Spender... I really don't know, but I'd have to say he feels *something* for him, to have helped him covertly so many times. And he certainly was also a great way to hurt Alex. But, yes, I think Spender has a soft spot for Mulder. He's his hope for the future. I'll explain later... for now..." She smiled, her eyes saying she thought she knew what he had in mind. Taking out a palm pilot, she slipped it to him and then walked straight into Skinner's office as though she had every right to be there.

Kim protested, and was ignored.

Skinner had been seated behind his desk, but as they entered the room he half rose, as he saw who the intruders were. His face took on a look of supreme disgust, and he sneered as he sank backinto his seat.

"Back so soon, Krycek? What now? Have you come to finish what you started?" Skinner frowned as his eyes darted from Marita to Dustin and then returned.

"Not today, Walter," said Dustin in a husky whisper. "Today, I need to see Mulder. There's a ship that the old man is tracking, and I believe that it's time to let him in on the secret. He won't find it on his own."

"It's cloaked in an energy field," Marita said. "Very delicate, very hard to detect. But there. In plain sight. We were there, standing right on it, and didn't even know it. If it weren't so sad I'd laugh."

"Agent Mulder doesn't need your help," spat Skinner, still glaring at the man he thought was Krycek.

"You don't have a choice, Walter," Dustin pulled the palm pilot from his pocket with one leather-gloved hand. "Bite the bullet and do it now." There was a moment's pause, and Dustin sighed, making a move towards the pocket computer, and Skinner finally stood, snarling.

"Come on," he growled.

Marita looked at him coolly. "So the rumors that you're a sensible man are true." She followed him out of the office, her movements fluid as she looked over her shoulder at Dustin.

Down into the basement they went, by way of a different elevator this time. Marita's heels echoed, alarmingly loud on the composition floor, and Dustin felt each heel-strike as though it were a bell ringing his doom. All of a sudden his mouth was dry and he wondered how he was going to cope. It was too late, Skinner was already leaning against the doorway to a room, talking to someone.

He didn't hear the gist of the conversation, but when Skinner beckoned, he walked forward, gritting his teeth. As he rounded the corner and entered the room to get his first look at Fox Mulder, his chin went up, and he found himself smiling a very unpleasant smile as he met Alex's ex-lover's eyes for the first time.

"Agent Mulder! I think you should listen to him." Skinner's voice was firm, and he betrayed none of his dislike as he attempted to have the seated man pay attention.

Mulder flew to his feet, clenching a fist and coming around towards Krycek. As usual, there was the desire to fuck him as well as pummel him, but right now, after the day he'd had, he was in no mood for sex. Narrowing his eyes, he glared at Krycek, nostrils flaring. In his rage he scarcely noticed Marita, who stood to one side, watching.

Dustin sauntered into the room, and stood, body language challenging Mulder. Then he began to speak, "You've got every reason to want to see me dead." He stood unmoving as the FBI agent erupted from behind his desk and boiled toward him. Skinner unexpectedly caught and held him, much to Dustin's relief. "But you've got to listen to me now. You have a.singular opportunity."

Mulder jerked out of Skinner's grasp, and went for Krycek again. Lust and rage... he glared at Krycek. "Here or you want to step outside?" he said with a snarl.

Dustin suddenly found himself trying not to laugh at the man who was squaring up to him. He had a look in his eye that was very like the Smoker's. Dustin suddenly realized that he could convince this man, because he knew that at the bottom of his heart, Mulder wanted him longed for him with a kind of sick revulsion at his own lusts that made him easy prey. He smiled again, and stepped closer.

Mulder started towards Krycek again. That saucy look always got to him, made him itch to beat it off Krycek's face?

Marita fixed him with a cool gaze, looking at him levelly. "Agent Mulder," she said evenly. "CancerMan is dying." You have no idea how happy I am to say that, she thought.

Mulder looked at Skinner, who shook his head slightly and stepped back.

Marita continued in the same cool tone. "His last wish is to rebuild his Project, to have us revive the Conspiracy. It all begins in Oregon."

Mulder stared at Marita. What the hell was she talking about? He'd been all over those woods.

The papers had said Mulder had just returned from Oregon. It was amusing to Dustin that he could rip his investigation apart in this manner. "The ship that collided with that Navy plane. It's in those woods," he said, still smirking.

Mulder glared at him. Damn the man for having him on. "There's no ship in those woods," he said disgustedly.

"Yeah, it's there. Cloaked in an energy field and we wait while he mops up the evidence." He stepped in closer to Mulder, willing the other man to hit him, kiss him, break in some small way.

Mulder looked at Krycek, lust showing through the rage more now, as he thought for a moment. Someone must have... "Who?" he asked, too quickly.

"The Alien Bounty Hunter. Billy Miles. Teresa Hoese, her husband." Dustin moved closer to Mulder, feeling the want radiating out of him. "He's eliminating proof of all the tests. We're asking ourselves, ‘Where are they?'" He pitchedhis voice more intimately, drawing Mulder like a moth towards him. "They're right there. They're right under our noses. I'm giving you the chance to change that, to hold the proof."

Mulder felt weak in the presence of the man who always got under his skin. He said softly, "Why me and why now?" It was as much about Krycek's proximity as about the UFO.

To Dustin, the question was cathartic. He raised his eyes again, to meet snapping hazel in a look that made him quiver. Only truth would do. "I want to damn the soul of that Cigarette Smoking Son-of-a-Bitch."

A shadow appeared in the doorway. Dana Scully looked at the assemblage, startled to see Krycek there, of all people. The blonde she didn't know. She looked at her partner, arching a brow slightly.

"Mulder?"

Mulder took his eyes off Krycek reluctantly as he turned and looked at her.

Dustin studied the short, red haired woman. So this was the famous Scully who had featured in the files he'd read. She didn't look too happy. He dropped back out of the limelight and left Mulder to deal with her as he wanted. He had plenty of time.

"Oh, ah, hi Scully," Mulder said, a bit flustered. "I, ah, I just - Krycek has some information that could help in our case."

Scully looked at him with a mixture of concern and disgust. "Mulder, Krycek is not only a liar, he's a murderer. How many times has he gotten you in trouble when you've listened to him? I mean - I mean, look what happened when you went to Russia, Mulder, you could've been --"

"Yeah, and a truck could hit me as I go across the street for a cup of coffee. He says he can help us find the ship."

Scully shook her head, and together, she and Mulder began to walk down the hall

Lips pursed in amusement, Dustin leaned against the wall and waited for Mulder to return. That he would return was a sure thing. He met Marita's eye, and gave her a look that suggested she take Skinner away and let him work alone on Mulder. Once the initial discomfort had been faced, Dustin could tell that the man would do exactly what he wanted.

Marita nodded to Dustin with a sly smile. She took Skinner's arm. "Come on, Sir. We should talk to Scully about this, as well." She led him out of the room, as Mulder stepped back towards Krycek, eyes dark. He breathed heavily, almost tempted to take the man and throw him on the desk, but he wanted to wait... see if Krycek would offer himself, as he had so many times before.

Krycek was a glutton for punishment, and Mulder knew it was sick, but he wanted to hurt him...

"I can find it for you, Mulder," whispered Dustin, his voice intimate as he seduced with gestures intended to soothe, to captivate. "It's waiting for you, all the truth you've dreamed about." He smiled gently, guilelessly, and stepped in close to stand beside Mulder. "You want it. You've always wanted it. Let me give it to you."

Mulder gasped. "I want it... I want *you*, Krycek. I've always wanted you..." There. He'd cracked... as he always did. Now he had to finish it... he grabbed Krycek by his coat and kicked the door shut. Then he dragged Krycek across the room, to the far wall. He ground his hips against Alex's as he held him pinned there, biting his neck, his ear.

"Krycek... what do you want?"

"What do I want? I want Spender in hell. I want him to lose everything that he's worked for, and I want to be there to smile and nod." Dustin grinned and cupped Mulder's face with his right hand. Better not to use the left, he remembered. Mulder would notice. He noticed everything.

Leaning forward, he paused with his mouth a fraction of an inch from Mulder's full lips.

"Tell me how much you want it."

"Oh, Alex..." Mulder ground himself harder against Krycek, insistently. With an arm wrapped around his chest, he steered Krycek to the desk, bent him over it and started fumbling with his black jeans. "Krycek... you know how much I want you. I've wanted you since the day I met you. You're so beautiful... so sweet. So..."

Mulder kicked Krycek's legs apart with a knee as he reached to undo his own fly. His cock was straining for release, and he gasped as he watched a drop of precum appear on the head.

Rubbing his cock between Krycek's ass cheeks, he leaned over him. "You ready, lover?"

With a twist of his hips, he was inside, fucking Krycek's ass, his tight, clutching ass, so hot on his cock... he sped up, knowing he was hurting Krycek a little. He reached down to kiss Krycek's face...

The man was totally insane, thought Dustin. He was so unstable emotionally that it was no wonder that he was chasing UFOs. He pulled the FBI agent down and possessed his mouth as he writhed under his ministrations.

Tearing away again, he lowered his lashes, smoldering at Mulder as the other neared his climax.

Mulder began to grunt in time to his thrusts, catching Krycek's ear in his teeth. "You're such a bad boy, Krycek. I need to punish you... show you who's boss. You know you've always been my bad boy, right?" He bit Krycek's neck as he thrust even harder into him. "Such a bad boy, never could resist you..."

Coming forcefully into Krycek's ass with a yelp, he held himself against the other man, feeling his cock pulse inside Krycek's gut, and his semen slicking his walls...

"Oh," he said, catching his breath, hugging Krycek. "Oh, Krycek. Alex..."

Dustin hadn't come wasn't even close. He growled his frustration. "You fucker. You can do better than that."

He half stood, seized a fistful of Mulder's clothing, and pulled the agent in towards him, to breathe in his ear. "You didn't wait for me, Mulder. I didn't get off. Come on!" He writhed against Mulder. "Think I'm going to tell you my secrets for that?"

"My, my. Aren't we demanding today?" Mulder growled, drawing back his hand and slapping Krycek's ass. "How do you want it, boy? Roll over and let me hold your legs up." He moved to turn Krycek over, sending a stack of papers flying to the floor. Muttering a curse, he stared down at Krycek, open for him... his cock waiting... waiting. "What do you want, Krycek?"

He took Krycek's cock in his hand, jerking it slowly.

"Hold your legs up, boy."

He put his fingers into Krycek's ass, then worked him slowly, feeling himself get hard at the sight...

"Oh, Krycek. Anything for you."

He withdrew his fingers, and drove into Krycek, hard, sending more papers and a coffee mug to the floor.

"Krycek, Krycek, Krycek," he chanted, fucking his ass hard, stroking his cock in one hand, biting his neck... lifting up his shirt to bite a nipple fiercely. "What a bad boy you are, Krycek. Feeling that? Is that what you want?" Pounding into Krycek harder, he bit his other nipple. "Or do you want it against the wall... whore? You know you're my whore, Krycek. You just let me take you, over and over..." He slapped Krycek's ass again, crying out in pleasure. "So good baby. So good."

Dustin concentrated on keeping his temper. Never had he felt such anger at a man. This jerk had hurt his lover, had put him down for years and years, and now was treating him like some kind of sub. His Alex was no sub. He would make Mulder pay for this. He straightened up, easing Mulder's cock out of him.

"You need to learn how to do it, Mulder. You don't seem to have a clue." The sneer was unmistakable. "Premature ejaculation never made you any friends."

Mulder growled. Krycek had forgotten his place, it seemed... he slapped Krycek's ass, his legs, pinched his cock.

"Do you want to fuck me, whore? Is that it? You know, I should have shot you long ago. You're lucky I love you, find you attractive."

He breathed heavily, then dove in, capturing Krycek's mouth in his, sucking hard, and then, finally, after seeming to suck the man's tongue down his throat, he broke away, and panted, "Never could get enough of you." He kissed Krycek again. "You want it against the wall, baby?"

Dustin laughed harshly, and balled up his fist, punching Mulder in the gut. As the other man grunted and folded neatly in half, he followed through with a blow to the back of the agent's neck.

"I'm going to show you how it's done, Mulder. You'll thank me for it when I'm through." He grabbed Mulder by the collar and hauled him up and over the desk. "You need to learn how it feels, Mulder. "

He spread the cheeks of Mulder's ass, and blew on the spot that he intended to penetrate, and then moved in to lick delicately, remembering every caress that Alex had ever given him. This jerk would never have him again, but he would remember this, and he would cry for him. His skillful hands began to touch and probe as he held Mulder in place.

"When you start to beg, I'll let you come, Mulder, but not until then."

Mulder sighed. His lover knew how to get to him... even when his gut and head were pounding, he could never resist Alex. Spreading his legs to give Krycek better access, he writhed against his lover's mouth. "Oh, yes, Alex. Oh, yes. You do that so well." He looked back, at Krycek's face. "Baby."

"Mulder, shut up!" Dustin ran hands the length of Mulder's torso, stroking the smooth skin. He pushed the fine white shirt up to reveal the sinewy back, and then removed his belt, doubling it up in his fist. Stepping back, he brought it down on the satiny skin of Mulder's rounded ass with a practiced flick of his wrist, laughing when Mulder jerked away and cried out. "Beg me; go on!" He lashed Mulder again, close to his balls this time.

"Alex!" shouted Mulder. This wasn't like his lover... his lover who always let him have his way with him, taking what scraps of affection were thrown him, looking at Mulder with eyes like a kicked puppy... made the predator come out in Mulder, and all he wanted to do was hurt him...

"Alex! Do it to me, Alex!" Mulder bit his own wrist. He would not break for Krycek... let him have his little rebellion. He'd get his own back soon enough...

"Oh, I'll do it to you, all right." Dustin felt the fury seethe through him and he began to lash Mulder over and over again, watching the droplets of bright blood appear at the edges of the weals he was painting over the canvas of the other man's trunk. "I'll do it, and do it, and do it." Each time he spoke, he brought the belt down on Mulder until the previously white globes of his buttocks were red and bloody. "Go on! Ask me, cunt!"

"You bastard!" Mulder hissed through his teeth. "I'll get you for this, Krycek." He sneered. "D'you think your Daddy would like to know how you're treating me, Alex? Alex, would he hold you and love you at last? Do you think that he would?" He writhed under the lashes. "Yeah. I've heard you late at night... you curl up in a ball and beg your Daddy to love you. You ask him why he didn't... and one time... one time you said... FUCK!" Mulder yelled as he took a particularly hard stroke. "I'll tell him, Alex. You know, you really gotta learn ... DAMN!... not to talk in your sleep. WHORE!"

"Whores get paid," gritted Dustin between his teeth. "This is a labor of love." He studied the raw, red mess that was Mulder's ass, and deliberately turned the belt around so that now the ends with the metal tag and the buckle would strike. "You need to learn about love, Mulder." He brought the makeshift whip down yet again. "You need to learn to beg."

"You used to love me to call you whore," Mulder said, voice cracking. "You begged me to. You said you were a bad boy and... Krycek! Krycek... please, Alex, Alex... Lover... I'm serious... that hurts." Mulder groaned, his ass was really hurting now, but he wasn't done yet. "What do you - AH - mean, I gotta learn about love?" He tried to roll over. "Krycek. Let me see your face. Krycek... please..."

"Yes, it hurts. Are you going to beg?" There was a long drawn out pause, then Dustin threw down his belt and pulled up his pants, fastening the button and sliding the zipper closed once more. "Maybe you don't actually want me. Maybe you just get off on hurting the vulnerable. Well, at least you learned something about yourself, Mulder. You should be grateful to me."

Mulder spat. "You think I like to hurt you, Krycek? I only did to you what you asked me to." He looked at Krycek. "Treated you the way you wanted to be treated."

"It's time for a change, Mulder. I don't want that any more. " Dustin turned away. "I don't want anything like that, ever again."

"What... just tell me what you need, Krycek. I love you. You know that." He hung his head. "C'mere," he said. "C'mere, let me hold you. I'm sorry, Alex... I didn't mean it."

His anger was fading at last. There seemed to be a middle ground where they could meet, and Mulder would not die today, at any rate. He swung back to where Mulder stood, inwardly wincing at the mess he'd made of the other man's behind.

"You never do, Mulder, but it's always someone else who gets hurt."

Mulder nodded. "Sometimes I... need someone. You were there... right there. I... you drew me in." He walked over to Alex. "I love you," he whispered. "But now... if what you said is true... we gotta go find some stuff out. I know just who to ask..."

He didn't want to stop to analyze what Krycek had said. He might not like what he discovered. He gingerly began to put his pants back on. "Damn, Krycek."

Suddenly feeling like a heel, Dustin moved sinuously to pull Mulder in against him and kissed him on the mouth, a long, deep, passionate kiss that seemed to last an eternity.

"When all of this is done, you and I will lie down together for once as equals, and neither one will hurt the other, right, Mulder?"

"If that's what you want, Krycek." Mulder wrapped his arms around his lover, holding him close. "I swear to you... I'll keep you safe. I love you... you should never be hurt if you don't want to be." He kissed Krycek softly, his cheek, his neck, his forehead, his eyes... soulful eyes. "Kry -- Alex." He held him close. "I know - I know your Daddy loves you. Somewhere inside, he must love you." He kissed Krycek's chin, and rested his head on his shoulder.

"When all of this is done..." repeated Dustin. He stood holding Mulder, wondering how long he would need to do so, and then at last he released him. "Come on then. We need to find the people you know see if we can work out where the spaceship is. We don't have a lot of time.

Mulder nodded. "No, I guess... I guess we don't." He suddenly felt sheepish, and grabbed a file folder that, miraculously, had not fallen off his desk. "Let's go." He opened the door.

Alex opened his eyes. He was still hazy from the drugs, drifting in and out of sleep, and clarity. But his thoughts...the drug was calling forth images and smells and sounds that scared him. He supposed they could be memories, but he didn't remember them at all. They were nightmarish... like a recurring dream.

When he tried to reach out, to analyze them, they evaporated into vapor trails of dread and longing.

He realized he wouldn't get any sleep at the moment and needed to get up to prevent the images from popping to mind. He got up slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hand until the sensation of vertigo subsided.

Once he felt he could, he stood up somewhat shakily and walked out of the room, placing a hand against the wall for support. Nearing the top of the stairs, he suddenly felt dizzy again, and had to grasp the cherry wood bookcase against the wall to steady himself.

He stood, head down, just trying to get himself together for a few minutes. His eyes drifted to the bookshelf, and he read some of the titles Applied Hypnotherapy; Regression Hypnosis and False Memory Syndrome; Real Memories or Mere Suggestion? - Telling the Difference; Regression Therapy and the Abuse Survivor; The Hypnotized Mind.

He sank down onto his heels. So, the man was a therapist. Dustin had taken him to a goddamn therapist. He bit his lip, thinking.

Well, maybe this man could help him. With the way he was feeling, he certainly couldn't get any more fucked up. He sighed, and took out the book Repressed Memory Recovery through Deep Regression Hypnosis. He sat on the top step of the flight of stairs, flipping through the pages.

He heard Dr. Werber approaching the bottom of the stairs, and he looked up, a little embarrassed. He quickly put the book back, and smiled sheepishly. "Hi," he said.

"Hello, Alex. You were finding my books interesting, I see. Would you like to read some of them? That's quite all right, you know." Werber leant comfortably on the banister rail and smiled up at Alex. "Dustin was hoping that you would find something of interest to you. Let me know if I can get anything for you. Would you like breakfast? Coffee?"

Alex swallowed. "Sure, um... what do you have?"

*You know better than to ask for food, boy.*

He jerked his head as Sergei's voice came to him. He looked at Werber. "You're a doctor, aren't you?"

"I am a type of doctor, yes." Werber smiled again. "Let me see, I have eggs and bacon, or toast, or cereal, or practically anything you might want, within reason. Come, let's go into the kitchen and I'll find you something to eat."

Alex got up, and shakily gripped the railing. As he came down the stairs, slowly, he looked at Dr. Werber. "I - you - you know I've been having some problems." He blushed. "I don't - I don't understand what's happening to me."

He had reached the bottom of the stairs, and looked at Werber through wide, frightened eyes. "I'm seeing things... hearing things... feeling things..."

"Come, Alex." Werber turned and led the way into the kitchen, and gestured for him to take a seat. "Let me see. We have eggs. Would you like to have eggs?" He poured a coffee and passed it to Alex. "Do you want to tell me about the things that are worrying you?"

Alex sat down, and played with the coffee cup. It smelled good... reminded him of... no. Stop.

He looked at Werber. "It's... memories? Of things I don't remember. I know how that sounds, but there's no other way to put it. And sometimes... sometimes I feel like... like a child..."

"You have memories that you think are from someone else, Alex? That sounds interesting. Why do you suppose that is?" He began to crack eggs into a bowl and added some chopped herbs to the mix. "I think that an omelet might be good, hmmm?" He set a skillet on the stove and added a little butter, then got bread ready for toasting.

Alex salivated at the pleasant aromas coming from the stove. "I... I don't know, Doctor," he said, hesitantly. "I feel... I feel like..." He swallowed, as a wave of fear, of a memory, crashed and broke over his consciousness. "I feel afraid..." he finished in Alyosha's voice. "Please, don't hurt me."

There was a pause during which time Dr. Werber grated cheese, buttered toast and flipped the omelet. When he was finished, he slid the food onto a plate and put it in front of Alex, handing him cutlery without a word.

"Nobody will hurt you, Alex. You are safe now. You can tell me what bothers you, if you like." Dr. Werber's voice was soft.

Alex stared at the food, swallowing. God, he was so hungry... he looked up at Dr. Werber. "I... I'm not allowed to eat, you know. My daddy... my daddy feeds me. He says he has to keep me hungry so I'll do my work."

He looked down at the food. It smelled so good... his stomach growled.

"He probably is doing this to tempt me, to trick me. He does that, you know."

All of the above was said in a dull childlike monotone, like a recitation.

"Daddy said I'm a very bad boy if I eat anything unless he gives it to me. If I do, he hurts me. He... ties me down, and he... he hurts me..."

His voice began to get higher in pitch, and Alyosha stood up, backing towards the hall. "I want to be a good boy. Don' wanna be hurt."

As he backed away from the food, Karl, who had heard the voices, came into the kitchen in time to hear his last statement.

"Come, Alyosha, you're not being polite to Dr. Werber." Karl put his arms around Alex and kissed his cheek softly, then led him back to the breakfast bar. "Didn't we tell you? Today is a day for you to play. You must eat your breakfast now, like a good boy."

"No..." Alyosha whimpered. "You're trying to tempt me, so I'll be bad... please, please don't. Please, let me be good. Please, Doctor. I can be so good for you. I always am, aren't I?" He walked to Dr. Weber and sank to his knees, fumbling with the doctor's fly.

Sucking them off was his safety, his comfort. They never hurt him for that, for being good. And sometimes... sometimes Mama even hugged him afterwards...

Taking Alex's hand, Dr. Werber leant down to kiss it gently. "Thank you for your kind offer, Alex, but I have no need for relief at the moment. Listen to me." Releasing Alex, he placed his own hands against Alex's cheek, tilting his face until the lost green eyes met his. "You will eat because I will it. You will not be harmed for this, because I will it, and you will be content. Now, I wish that you will be good for your Daddy."

Looking over Alex's shoulder to where Karl was standing, he shook his head gently as Karl started forward. "You need not fear, Karl. Alex will be a good boy; won't you, Alyosha?"

Alex blinked, slowly. He swallowed. Looking into Dr. Werber's face, he saw emotions that were rarely directed at him - compassion, concern. He nodded. "Just - just tell me what to do," he said softly, lowering his eyelids.

"To begin with, you must eat your breakfast." Dr. Werber had taken juice from the fridge and now pushed a glass over to Alex. "Then we can have a cozy chat together, the three of us, and decide how best we can help you, Alex. Dustin wants you to be happy."

Alex nodded, and got up. He walked back over to his chair. He felt in a daze, dissociated. Like an automaton.

He took up his fork, and looked at Dr. Werber. "You know what's happening to me. Tell me, please, before I lose my mind completely."

Even as he said it, though, he wondered if he'd already lost it.

"You've been brainwashed, Alex. You've had your thoughts shaped and altered. I can help you, but much of the work must come from you." Dr. Werber prompted Alex, one hand just touching his elbow. "Dustin will be home later, but we have plenty of time. Perhaps we can talk about this after you eat?"

Karl moved to sit next to Alex, and watched him as he began to eat. "You'll be fine, Alex. You're going to be free. You're going to feel great!"

Alex ate as if he hadn't eaten in days, wolfing down the food. Left to his own devices, he always ate quickly - it was an instinct, born of his early conditioning.

He looked at Werber. "I... I'm going to need help," he said softly.

Turning to Karl, he asked, "Do you... you know about this?"

Karl was taken aback. "Of course I do, Alex. I know what they did to you. I know what they did to me too. Those bastards. I've prayed for years that we could help you get over it, but it was only in the last couple of years that I've been able to see a way, one day. You should be grateful to Dustin, love." He held out his mug for more coffee, and watched as Alex finally polished his plate clean.

Alex looked at Karl. "Do you... did you... have the same problems?" He tried to remember if he had noticed anything. Do you... hear the voices too?" He took his coffee mug and drank copiously.

"Not like you do, Alex, love. They made me into something else. They made me into a sex toy when they made you into a killer. It still hurts, but I'm not in the same danger as you are." Karl sipped his coffee. "I'm not as beautiful as you. They didn't all want me the way that they wanted you."

"I... I remember... I know I hurt you, Karl. They - they --" He couldn't go on. Karl was his best friend. "I'm sorry, Karl. I know - I know you can't forgive me. But, I am sorry."

He looked at his friend. "You were ... more than my sex toy," he said finally.

"There's nothing to forgive, Alex. I know that you can't help the things that you've done, and..." he paused, a faint blush staining his cheeks. "Besides, I like them."

Alex stared at him. "How... how can you? I... I beat you, Karl. I raped you... I humiliated you. Made you do things... I hurt you. How could you *like* any of that?"

Krycek was suddenly sick to his stomach, and he swallowed.

"Guess that it's all down to brainwashing, love." Karl smiled. "Don't sweat it. I love you, and you're my friend. I've always loved you. It's second nature to me." He turned to Dr. Werber. "Is there anything you can do for Alex?"

"Alex must decide if he wishes to take that route," replied Dr. Werber. "I can help, I'm sure, but the road is going to be a long one. Would you like me to help you, Alex?"

Alex looked at Werber. "I... I can't stay like this," he said. He paused to gather his thoughts.

"I... I can't promise I won't slip into the child again... I know I will. I never knew him, before I was in the prison in Tunisia. I knew Alexei, a little... and Sascha. But Alyosha... he hurts."

Alex looked down. "Please, help me?"

He looked at Karl, then at Dr. Werber. "I just... just... please, try to understand if I find it hard to trust doctors in general. And... well..."

He looked down again. "What are you going to do to me?"

"I'm not going to do anything to you, Alex. I'm merely with your permission, of course going to assist you to bring out these hidden memories and deal with them. You are laden with compulsions, Alex. We will find them, and release you from them, but never against your will." Dr. Werber patted Alex on the shoulder. "We will take it as slowly as you like, and you will always be able to ask me questions."

Alex nodded. "Can you... what do you know, now? Anything? I... I feel empty. Like I need... you know what? I always thought I first met Daddy - the Smoker - when I was 7, after my parents..." He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat.

He looked at Werber. "But now I think... he was there from the beginning. In Russia. When I was a baby, and..."

He had to pause again. "What - what do these memories mean? Why am I having them now? This never happened before." He looked at Werber, eyes reflecting confusion and fear. "I - I'm usually in control."

"It's plain that something has happened to you that's thrown your conditioning into conflict. Something has started to break it down and now you are finding that your personality is fragmenting because of that. I will help you, but you must understand that it is going to be slow. You were conditioned for many years. I can't push a button and undo it all overnight." Dr. Werber took Alex's plate and put it in the dishwasher. "Can I get you anything more?"

Alex shook his head. "No, I... that's something. I know I'm not to ask for food. Why is that? I... when you asked me if I wanted more, just now, I felt anxious. Like... really anxious."

"I assume that you were deprived of food, kept hungry for long periods of time. They broke you, my friend, and rebuilt you to their specifications." Dr. Werber placed a bar of chocolate on the counter. "You are working well. You may have this as a reward. Savor it. Eat it slowly, so that you enjoy each piece."

Alex nodded. "Okay." He took the chocolate gingerly, seeming to inspect it.

*"Not for you unless I give it to you, boy. Don't you dare touch it. I'm leaving it here, but you know what you'll get if you touch it."*

Alex put the bar on the table.

*He hadn't eaten in three days. He'd had very little water... kept in the dark mostly, too. The musty smells... and a smell of chocolate. Inviting, tempting... *

Alex's stomach growled.

*"Only when I feed it to you, boy, can you eat."*

He looked at Dr. Werber.

*"I'll never eat from your hands."*

*"Then you will starve." And the door was shut... the grate replaced. He was alone...*

"I... I'm sorry. I..." He laughed. "You know, I don't think I've ever eaten a chocolate bar freely? You know? It's almost funny."

"Do you believe that you can do it, Alex? It's a simple thing, but it would be the start of your rehabilitation. You may eat the chocolate. It is yours. You may feed some of it to Karl and nobody will harm you or require favors for it." Dr. Werber smiled, and extended his hand to push the bar closer to Alex. His voice continued to flow around Alex, gentle words of encouragement, words that almost made no sense, but which were nonetheless encouraging.

Alex nodded, reaching for the bar. As he slowly opened it, every fiber of his being told him not to do it, and he couldn't help glancing around, as if Daddy or Sergei was going to hit him.

When the first block was revealed, Alex broke it off and brought it to Karl's lips. "You must be hungry. Take this... my friend."

Karl accepted the candy from Alex's fingers, and then reached to break off a piece himself, extending it to Alex.

"Your turn, Alex love. It's really good. Enjoy it."

Alex put out his tongue, reaching to take it. Suddenly he froze, his eyes darting around the room. "I'm... afraid..."

"It is the first stage in your recovery, Alex," murmured Dr. Werber. "Take the chocolate. Come, it's not such a big deal." He moved to stand behind Alex, stroking the back of his neck with a gentle touch.

Alex flinched from the touch instinctively... no one was ever kind to him. But when Werber didn't squeeze, or shove him backwards, or hit or kick him, he raised his eyes to Werber's. He saw compassion, kindness in them. Slowly, he took the chocolate and put it in his mouth.

He waited, but nothing bad happened to him. He dared to breathe again as the chocolate melted in his mouth... sweet, delicious chocolate. He smiled.

They'd eaten Chinese food, and now they were all gathered, going over the plans that they had made. Dustin stood beside Mulder, so close that he could feel the heat of Mulder's body against the fine wool of his jacket. Mulder stood also, his back and behind far too sore to permit sitting at the present, and as Dustin smiled to himself, the FBI agent leaned forward to indicate something, and winced visibly.

"What's amazing is that even the military satellites don't see it." said the gnome with the glasses and the belligerent expression, as Dustin surveyed the group, happy that he had fooled them.

The blond with the stringy hair took up the conversation. "But J.P.L.'S Topex Poseidon shows it only as waveform data."

"...And here it appears simply as a microburst of transmission error on the European Space Agency's ERS-2," said the anal retentive type with the beard. Dustin was fascinated. They seemed to speak for each other. He wondered where the hive was located, and who was the Queen.

"In other words?" asked Skinner, curtly.

"In other words, you'd never know it's a UFO..." that was Frohike.

"...If you didn't know what you were looking at or looking for." Byers again.

"No wonder we couldn't see them." Langly completed the set. Dustin ground his teeth and cut through the circus act.

"Listen, it is not going to be there forever," he said.

Marita looked at the assemblage curtly. They seemed more interested in showing off their tech knowledge than finding the damned ship with any rapidity. "As we all stand here talking, it's rebuilding itself."

Dana Scully suddenly felt sick. She turned, and quickly left the room. She felt off balance, unhinged... but what was really unnerving was that she didn't know the source of her discomfiture.

Mulder looked up, concerned, and followed her.

Scully turned to face him. "Mulder, if any of this is true..."

Mulder looked at her. He could sense she was upset, and he didn't want her to be more so. "If it is, or - or if it isn't, I want you to forget about it, Scully?"

Scully couldn't believe her ears. "Forget about it?"

Mulder was firm. "You're not going back out there. I'm not going to let you go back out there."

Scully looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Scully, it has to end some time. That time is now."

Scully reached for his arm. "Mulder..."

Mulder spoke in a low tone, his voice not quite steady. "Scully, you have to understand that they're taking abductees. You're an abductee. I'm... I'm not going to risk losing you."

Scully sighed, and walked toward him, slowly putting her arms around him. Mulder wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"I won't let you go alone," Scully said softly.

Alex was lying in his bed, shivering. He'd felt anxious since he'd eaten the chocolate, and after a little skirmishing, had eventually prevailed upon Karl and Heitz to let him go to his room. He was nervous around other people. He felt that he had to see Daddy, but they said he couldn't.

*Smell of gunsmoke*

"I have to..." Alex said softly, though no one was there to hear him. "I have to go."

His eyes flew open... the room was still empty save for him, but the smell of Sergei and gunsmoke were all-pervasive.

*"Hold it like this, Alexei. Just naturally. It, and its trajectory, are both natural extensions of your arm. Just raise it up, hold it steady, and squeeze..."*

Alex swallowed.

*Wringing out a wet sheet. He'd been naughty again, and he had to hand wash Sergei's sheets. The cold water sliced through his skin in the frigid Siberian air...*

*Blood. The smell of it thick...*

*"Shoot him, boy. Come on. It's easy. Just shoot him."*

*The hapless prisoner, a male in his thirties, standing before him, head bowed.*

*"Shoot him," Sergei said.*

Alex jerked awake with a sharp cry.

Dustin had entered the room and was now hanging up Alex's coat. As Alex woke, Dustin crossed quickly to kneel beside him, and laid his head on Alex's chest.

"Hello, love. How are you feeling? Forgive me?" He drew back, watching Alex and waiting to see if he was to be banished for his betrayal, or whether he would be forgiven.

Alex blinked, and his lower lipped trembled. "I've been... I've been a bad boy. I know. I know you want to hurt me. That's okay. I deserve it." He stretched out, undoing his pants and sliding them off. He looked up at Dustin, spreading his legs. "Just... just... make it fast?"

"What did you do, baby?" Dustin blinked. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it. He looked at Alex, spread wide for him, and bent to kiss the quiescent cock that curled at Alex's groin. "I love you. I won't hurt you."

Alex looked at him. "I'm sorry. I ate the chocolate. I ate... food. Eggs... bacon... toast. I know I wasn't supposed to. Please... please punish me." After he'd been punished, he knew, the knot of anxiety in his stomach would come undone.

He briefly closed his eyes, then opened them wide, licking his lips suggestively. He said, softly, "I'm ready for it. I won't cry."

Dustin sighed and then stood, removed all his clothes save for his shorts and T-shirt, and then lay down beside Alex, pulling him close.

"Come here, silly. I love you you know that. I'm glad that you had something good to eat."

Alex tensed. He knew he had to let this man do to him what he would, but he didn't have to like it. He stared into space, lying in Dustin's arms. His heart pounded.

Dustin tried to soothe Alex, but when the man he was holding remained tense and rigid, he found himself becoming distressed. He lay, wondering what the hell to do as Alex shivered in his grip. Finally, he sat up, tears starting from his eyes.

"Guess I'm not forgiven then. I'd better leave."

Alex swallowed. The man didn't want him... didn't find him beautiful. For a moment, he had felt ... something as he lay in his arms. He didn't want to believe it was real, but...

He knew he would call Daddy or Will or Jean-Paul in. Or all three.

"No, please," Alyosha whimpered. "I'll be good. So good for you. Won't eat anymore. I promise. Don't... don't..." He rolled over and took Dustin's hand, guiding it to his anus. "Go ahead. I'll be your pretty boy. Please. I need it."

Dustin snatched his hand back as though the touch had seared it. "Alex, please, baby. I love you." He felt the tears come in earnest, and dropped his head down onto his knees, and sat sobbing. He had no idea what he could do now. This was totally out of his league.

Alex stared at the man. Had he hurt him? He was going to be hurt now... he knew it. He whimpered. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did... I'm sorry. Please... please come back..."

Slowly, Dustin slumped against Alex, and put his arms around him again, resting his head on Alex's shoulder.

"Alex, I love you. Please remember me. It's Dustin. I don't know how to help you." He dropped a kiss onto Alex's head and rose from the bed, pulled on his pants and went to find Dr. Werber. It was all he could think of to do.

Alex shivered, and as the man left, he grew afraid. He knew that Daddy and the others would come in, and hold him facedown, and hurt him, sticking things into his anus and mouth. He swallowed. It was always this way. He tried hard to be good, he did. He just always...

He was suddenly suffused with dread unlike any he had ever felt. He knew they would kill him this time. Getting up from the bed, he shakily walked over to the far corner, hiding behind the side of a bookcase.

He drew his knees to his chest. It might be harder for him this way, but he was so scared...

When Dr. Werber finally entered the room, followed by Dustin, at first they thought that Alex had left, but then Dustin spied the white of his shirt in the corner, and nudged Heitz to indicate wordlessly that Alex was there. He was not prepared for the severe tone that Heitz used to persuade Alex out of his hiding place.

"Come Alyosha, and sit on this chair. You are behaving in a very silly manner."

Alex looked up, and bit his lip. He began to rock himself. Maybe... he could just drift. Let them do what they did while he thought of other things... he remembered the feel of Mama's arms around him. Remembered how, when he was even smaller than he was now, after they hurt him they would let Mama hold him, let her rock him.

If she showed him any kindness at other times, he was hurt severely, and then they wouldn't let her hold him, and he would cry himself to sleep, alone.

He keened, watching Heitz apprehensively.

"I'm waiting, Alyosha." Heitz stepped forward and took Alex's hand gently, pulling to urge him to his feet. "Here you are, rocking and feeling sad, and here is Dustin who wants to hold you and rock with you while you talk to me." He pulled on Alex's hand. "Come, Alyosha. Be good for your Daddy."

Alyosha looked at Heitz, and got up on his knees.

Suddenly, Alexei was there. He smiled up at Heitz. "Do you want it?" he asked, licking his lips. He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. "You know I can make you happy."

"It will make me very happy if you come sit here with Dustin and we can have a talk. I do not require sex at the moment, thank you." Heitz was still stern. He sat down on the chair and indicated that Alex and Dustin should sit on the bed.

Alexei smirked, and looked at Dustin, shrugging. He got up and sat on the bed.

For the moment, Dustin remained standing, until Dr. Werber gestured that he should take his place beside Alex, and then he moved reluctantly to sit next to him. Dr. Werber waited for a minute or two, and then leant forwards.

"What is worrying you, Alex? You were afraid."

Alexei shook his head. "Alyosha was fearful because he ate the food, and the candy. He thinks you're going to do something really awful to him. Since you're not hurting him, his anxiety is increasing. Besides, he - we - have to get back to Daddy."

"In two days, when he returns, you may do so. You know that he is in Tunisia until then. Why are you anxious?" Dr. Werber spoke gently, but he was obviously expecting answers.

"I -- someone will hurt me. I know that. But they're doing it again... gaslighting me by not doing it immediately. They're going to wait, and I won't know when, but they'll run in any time and tie me down. They do it all the time. Then, they force themselves on me - rape me." He laughed darkly. "You'd think I wouldn't even feel it anymore, wouldn't you? After all, it's been going on at least since I was three, and probably even longer." He shook his head. "I guess I'm just not tough enough," he said slowly. "They want me to be tough. Sergei was angry because when he asked me to shoot a prisoner, I froze and couldn't do it. I'm no good I guess. But it was - the man I was to shoot - he was so skinny, and he... Sergei told me the reason they were shooting him was because he wasn't good at what he did, didn't follow orders." He shivered.

"Do you suppose they'll shoot me, too? Sometimes, I ache for it." His voice was devoid of emotion - flat, tired. Weary.

"Those are terrible memories, Alex. Terrible. How may I get you to trust what I say? It is most important that you do." Heitz smiled gently. "We both want to help you. All we need is for you to wish to be free." He indicated that Dustin should sit close to Alex and put his arm around him. "Dustin is hurting for you. Help him heal, Alex."

Alex looked at Dustin glumly. "How can I help him, I can't even help myself." He looked at Heitz. "You all say that I'm going to help save the world. How can I if I'm so... twisted?"

"That's what we're going to talk about. First, you must save yourself. All I want to do is listen. Tell me your fears, Alex. Tell them to Dustin. Between us we will help you to bear them."

Alex looked at Dustin. "Before, when you held me... I felt... good. It felt... like you cared?" he said, tentatively.

When Dustin didn't respond right away, Alex hung his head. "I know. It's stupid. I have to learn that no one will ever care for me. I have to get it through my thick skull. But, dammit - I want to be loved. I really do." He swallowed. "I only just got here last month, you know. They sent me here when they caught me letting Fox fuck me. I just wanted to feel some warmth, a touch... that's all."

Snuggling against Alex, Dustin sought for words, but could only manage, "I love you, Alex. You know that I love you." He shook his head sadly and laid it down against Alex's shoulder. Dr. Werber's voice continued to drone.

"Tell me about your life, Alex."

"My life. What's there to tell? All I've known is pain and hurt. You don't need to hear that. I - I'm not supposed to tell anyone about my life. Just that my Daddy's in the government and Mama's dead. Oh, and Sergei's my Daddy while I'm here. You can ask him about it if you want." Alex stroked Dustin's cheek.

"Sergei is long gone, Alex. You must remember. The Gulag was long ago. Now, you are free of Sergei." Dr. Werber's voice was low and soporific. "You will tell us about what happened when you left Sergei. Tell Dustin, who loves you."

"When I left," Alexei said, "Daddy brought me home. My true Daddy. He... I thought he would love me at last, thought I'd be..."

Alexei began shaking, and he tried to form a word, a phrase... but his mind was blank. "I... went home, and..."

But he couldn't remember any more.

Suddenly, he felt the comforting presence of Sascha, the Protector. Sascha would make it all go away...

*Hush, Alexei. I'm here now.*

When Alex looked at Werber, it was with Sascha's cold, hard eyes. "Heitz, I need you to leave the room, and tell Karl to come in." His voice was even and commanding - it was clear he expected to be obeyed.

Werber nodded to himself. This was only to be expected. He surveyed Sascha, his expression bland.

"You know that I can't do that, my friend." He looked to Dustin, who had shrunk back a little. "Come now, you are aware of the fact we are trying to help you. Allow the memories to come to you, Alex. Fighting them will not help you."

Sascha glared at Werber, then quickly went to his leather jacket, which Dustin had hung up in the room on his return. He slipped it on, automatically reaching into his right pocket. Finding the soothing feel of cool metal there, he withdrew the gun.

"You will leave, Werber. One way or the other," he said tightly. Walking over to place himself between Werber and Dustin, he leveled the gun at the psychiatrist and cocked it with a very audible click. "You can leave now, Doc, or I can shoot you. The choice is yours." He cut his eyes to Dustin, then leveled his gaze back on Werber. "So, which will it be?"

Dr. Werber shrugged his shoulders.

"You can stave off the moment for now, but when you think about it, Alex, you still contain that terrified boy within you, and here is your lover, who cares about you, wanting to help you. Why would you not wait until later to do whatever it is that you feel the need to do?"

Sascha smirked, still holding the gun on Werber. "You think that psychobabble is gonna do any good?"

He looked at Dustin briefly. "I need to teach my Cub a few things. Leave, and send Karl in. Now." He cocked the gun again for emphasis, and edged toward Dustin.

"Alex Krycek, you are making a mistake. Your Cub is learning from you all the time, but now is not the moment for gunplay." He turned and left the room without any further words, moving swiftly to the telephone. Dialing his clinic, he asked for a couple of orderlies to come over, and then went into the study and extracted a hypnotic from his case. Alex would emerge when Karl was not forthcoming, he was sure. At that point he would be able to sedate him if he played it right.

Sascha looked at Dustin. "My Cub... I will make you into my partner. We will hunt together... run together." He climbed onto the bed, putting the gun on the pillow as he kissed Dustin, deeply and hungrily. He had an erection, and ground it into Dustin's groin as he pushed him back onto the bed. "Little Cub. I will teach you how to have mastery over another, so that no one can ever hurt you again." He kissed Dustin passionately, reaching to catch at the gun once more.

He had to keep his Cub safe. That was paramount. He pointed the gun in the general direction of the door as he laid his head on Dustin's chest, waiting for Karl. My Cub," he said again. "You won't be hurt, like Alex was..."

Sliding his arms around Alex, Dustin pulled him against his body, and writhed as he felt the stiffness of Alex pushing into him.

"I'll never be hurt like you were, my lover. You've saved me." He ran his hands up under the leather jacket as he held Alex to him. "Leave the gun. Forget Karl. I just want you to make love to me. It's been so long."

"No time, Cub," Sascha said. "I can't let my guard down. I have to show you - before they become stronger and can hurt you. Little one, my love... I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. Do you know that?"

Lifting his head, he yelled, "Karl! Come here, Karl!"

Grinning ferally, he said, "You wanted to know what they did to me when I got home?"

"What did they do?" Dustin flinched... if he had only been able to prevent Alex from meeting up with the Smoker. He would kill the old man. He knew that now. It would be his gift to Alex. He coiled his arms around Alex and held him close, nipping his cheek as he whispered, "Tell me."

*Tell me...*

Alex couldn't help it. He reverted to Alexei again, wrapping himself tightly around Dustin, voice high and cracking. "They - they - I thought they would love me. I'd worked so hard, done all Daddy had asked. When he came for me, he kissed me, and I felt safe... loved. But when we got home... I was... tossed into the dungeon, and left... then, they came. LaPierre. Wetrzgaard. They said they were glad to see me. Then they... they took me, strapped me down. They..."

He clung to Dustin. "Please. I'll be your good boy, I promise. Just don't let them hurt me again, please..."

"Shh, beloved, you're safe now. Trust me, love, they have no power to huryyou now." Dustin stroked Alex rhythmically as he spoke, his voice hypnotic as he soothed his troubled love. He'd learned enough now not to make any sudden movements. All he did, all he could do was murmur, "I love you, Alex, I love you," and wait.

"You... you do?" Alexei said, in wondering tones. "That's all I've ever wanted... to be loved by someone... someone who won't hurt me... you won't, will you?" His voice was desperate. "You won't hurt me like Will and Jean-Paul and Daddy?" Alex hugged Dustin tighter. "If you'll love me, I'll be a good boy for you. I'll do whatever you ask. You won't have to worry."

"I don't need you to do anything for me. I just need to love you. Will you let me do that for you, Alex?" Dustin's hands roamed restlessly over the solid silk of Alex's skin beneath the leather jacket. "I love you, baby, only you."

Alex gasped. "Please, please love me. Don't hurt me. It's all I ask. Don' wanna hurt no more..." He nestled in against Dustin, tracing a line along his jaw. "If you don' hurt me... I'll let you do whatever you want to me. If you'll love me... jus' wan' love," he murmured. He felt suddenly tired, and his eyelids fluttered.

"Hush, love. I love you. You don't need to doubt that." Dustin held him gently, fingers tenderly tracing circles on the sleek back. "All I want is for you to hold me tight like this. I don't need you to do anything but be here with me."

Alex snuggled up to Dustin. "Don't let them come for me, Dustin," he whispered, drifting off to sleep. "So tired. Wanna rest now..."

"Alex Krycek, I love you so damned much." Dustin kissed the forehead that was so close to his lips, and ruffled gentle fingers through the feathery, short hair. "You can always count on me, love. I won't let you down"

"Yeah?" Alex looked up at Dustin. "I know, Little Cub. I know. I love you, too. Gonna keep you safe..."

"It's my turn, baby. My turn to keep you safe. Sleep now, lover."

Alex smiled. "Only if you'll hold me..." He noticed the teddy bear on the bureau for the first time. He chuckled. "What's with the bear?"

"That bear was supposed to be yours, Alex. They never gave it to you. I stole it from the Smoker." Dustin kissed his lover's upturned face. "I'll never let you go."

"What? Never... gave it to me?" The crease at the top of his nose appeared as he considered. Then, he grinned. "Would you go get him for me, and then come back under the covers with me and hold me? Please?" He felt a little silly, but he felt he needed the security...

Straightening up, Dustin laid Alex back against the pillows and went to fetch the bear. Returning to the bed, he tugged at the leather jacket that his lover still wore.

"C'mon, off!" Once the jacket lay on the floor beside the bed, Dustin pulled back the covers and helped his lover to get beneath the sheets. Kicking off his shoes, he climbed onto the bed beside him and offered the bear. It was a large, old-fashioned bear, jointed, with emerald eyes and rich, chocolate colored fur.

Alex grabbed the bear, grinning. He cuddled it against his chest, burying his head in its fur. He snuggled against it. "Who... who got me the bear?" Alex said. "Do you know?" He wondered if it was the British man, the one who was the kindest to him of all the Syndicate members. Who had rescued him from the silo and never, ever raped him...

"The Smoker told me that your real father gave it to you, and that he withheld it. I took it because I was outraged for you, for the baby that you were, and the hurt that they did you." Tears started in his eyes, and he flung his arms around Alex again. "I want to make everything right for you. I love you, baby."

Alex snuggled back against Dustin. "As long as you hold me.... like you are now... I think everything will be fine. I've never felt so loved, and I mean that like... Fox and Daddy said they loved me, but they didn't. Not like you."

He paused. "You met Fox today, didn't you? How did it go?"

A veiled expression came down over Dustin's eyes. "He's a jerk, Alex. I hated him for what he did to you."

"Yeah, he... I really... I really loved him, you know. I wanted to be his boy, once... I used to be. He used to say he loved me." Alex rolled over so he was facing Dustin, the bear squished between them. "What happened?"

"I made him think that I was you, love, and then I left. What a jerk. He'd have beaten me up if Skinner hadn't stopped him." Dustin pulled Alex close. "But don't worry about it, love. It's done."

"Did he... did you..." Alex remembered how Fox would grab him and throw him across his desk. "Did he hurt you, baby?"

"Hurt me?" Dustin smiled, stealing another kiss from the man in his arms. "Hell, no. If anything, I hurt him."

Krycek tilted his head. "What - what do you mean, you hurt Mulder?" He frowned. "Why would you hurt Mulder?"

Smiling lazily, Dustin kissed the small nose and ran his palm down Alex's ribs. "Oh, he seemed to think he could mistreat you. I didn't think that was such a good idea. I gave him a little of his own medicine. He appeared to be a little shocked, but I think that he's learned manners."

"What - what did you do?"

"I... um... I spanked him, actually. I beat him with his own belt. He seemed to find that instructional, not to say moving. Come on, lover, you need some sleep, and I don't want to talk about all the jerks that think they can fuck you over." Dustin pillowed Alex's head against his shoulder and stroked the smooth skin gently, long sweeping movements that he hoped would soothe.

Alex nestled into Dustin. "They always hurt me... all I wanted was to be loved." He looked at Dustin. "That - that's all. Someone who would care for me for more than the use they could make of me... there was one man who made me feel safe before, but he died a few years ago. You make me fee safe... loved." Alex licked his lips, and rolled his head as Dustin's strokes lulled him. Like his mother used to... Almost unconsciously, he took a portion of Dustin's shirt into his mouth and sucked at it.

"You helped me when I needed it. I will help you now. I care for you, Alex." Dustin continued to stroke him. "I've got you back now. I won't let them hurt you any more."

Alex murmured happily as he snuggled against Dustin. "Promise?"

"For as long as I live," whispered Dustin.

Alex sighed, and his mind drifted into sleep. He couldn't ever remember feeling so secure. For once, the memories stayed away.

The morning dawned grey and rainy. Dustin was awakened by the sound of rain lashing against the window, and burrowed back into the bedclothes next to his lover. Alex was still sleeping, his face smooth and youthful in slumber. Dustin lay watching him, knowing that he would have to get up and go soon enough, but not wanting to disturb this nightmare-free sleep for Alex.

Alex sighed and opened his eyes. He recalled his flashbacks yesterday, and shivered. He felt in control now, but for how long? He rolled his head and searched for Dustin. Seeing the look in his eyes, a smile crept across his face. "Hey, Dustin," he said.

He reached for him. "Come on back down here a moment... slut." He grinned.

Desire trickled through Dustin's veins at the look on Alex's face. He felt his insides turn liquid, and shivered as he moved closer to the heat Alex was generating. Alex was here; Alex was well again, and he was going to make love to him. His eyes were wide as he looked at his lover.

"Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?"

"Very much so. I feel... I feel rested, and energized. I feel like... like I want to..." He reached over and stroked Dustin's cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. "I can never get enough of you," he husked, as his tongue flickered over Dustin's lips and teeth. He moaned, propping himself up on his arm, gazing down at Dustin. "Slut," he said. "Show me. Show me what a slut you can be." He had slept in only his underwear, and his cock bulged proudly.

A slow smile gradually played over Dustin's lips, and he squirmed free of the clothing he had slept in for fear of waking Alex from what seemed to be a healing sleep. Naked at last, he rolled to press himself against Alex, his hands petting the swelling cock that lurked beneath the constriction of his boxers. His own penis rose proudly, and Dustin scooped a little of the moisture from its tip to raise to Alex's lips.

"That's for you, love. All for you."

Alex grinned, and, wanting more, he gripped Dustin's cock and began stroking it, and then stopped to tear away his boxers. He had to let go to get them off, but after he had, Dustin lay, beautiful and larger than life.

He sat back on his heels, running his hand along the top of Dustin's thighs and over the knees, then gripped the legs at the calves one at a time to hoist them over his shoulders. Dustin was so pretty, and he was his... his to take...

He slowly worked a finger into Dustin's tight anus and corkscrewed it, but soon enough he couldn't wait and he withdrew his finger to place his cock at Dustin's tight entrance. He paused, locking eyes with Dustin, then thrust himself inside in one swift, sure stroke.

The burn of his entry made Dustin groan and bite his lip. "Oh, god, Alex, it... it hurts." He felt split wide, gutted, his body seared by the heat of Alex as he was claimed. Alex was right inside him, and he was thankful when Alex paused, waiting for Dustin to become relaxed enough to continue.

"Baby... are you okay?" Alex ran his hand over Dustin's chest. "I don't want to hurt you..." He closed his eyes in ecstasy as he felt Dustin's heat on him, the snugness... he couldn't help thrusting in a bit farther, then out, then back in... slowly, slowly.

"Little Cub? Are you okay?"

"Alex, I..." Dustin gasped. If Alex wanted to fuck him dry, he would just have to take it. He squeezed his eyes closed as the pain filled his senses.

"Dustin... do you need... ?" Spitting into his hand, he pulled out, and slicked himself, then put the tip to Dustin's entrance again. "Is that good, baby? Or do you have some lube hidden somewhere I don't know about?"

"I'm sorry." Dustin felt like a failure. It had all been used up the previous day, and he'd forgotten completely. "It's my fault. I don't think I have anything." He waited, wondering what would happen next.

Alex smiled. "You know what that means, little cub." He slapped Dustin's ass, then drove into him, hard. He grunted as he felt his cock hit home, and waited a moment for Dustin to adjust. Then he began thrusting in and out, gazing down at Dustin. "I'll just have to take you dry."

Dustin bit his lip and tried to relax, as Alex possessed him. His hands held tight to Alex's shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh with the tension of the encounter, each thrust provoking a sharp cry as Alex fucked him.

Alex bent down, nipping at Dustin's throat and shoulders as he sped up his thrusts. "Spread your legs, Cub, and bear down. It'll help..." He took Dustin's ear in his teeth, then captured his mouth in a deep kiss as he felt his desire and fucked Dustin harder, and deeper.

There was pain, and then there was a feeling of warmth that spread from his abused asshole to the tops of his thighs and up along his spine. As Dustin spread himself open for Alex, he felt the warmth become heat, become pleasure, become almost unbearable in the sweetness of it. He moaned again, his tongue caressing Alex as they kissed.

Alex moaned loudly. "That's it, Cub, take me... all the way... you feel... so ... fucking... good!" The 'good' came out as more of a cry then a word, as he felt his balls tightening and a tingling in his groin. He nipped at Dustin's neck again, then kissed him hungrily as his desire washed over him, through him, and into Dustin. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..." he chanted.

Slick now, and desperate, Dustin began to stroke himself, squeezing at his cock in an attempt to catch up with Alex. He could feel the pulsing warmth of Alex as he discharged his fluids inside him, and his own response as thigh muscles tightened, his balls began to contract, and his climax began.

Alex moved his hand, placing it over Dustin's, stroking and working Dustin's cock. "Let me do it, Cub. Let me get you off myself."

Relinquishing his hold on his dick, Dustin whimpered, and gave himself to Alex, sobbing as he felt the tide of orgasm flood him, washing him away in a torrent of prickling heat. Alex leaned to the side, nipping and kissing Dustin's neck as he caught Dustin's jizz in his hand. He brought it to his lips, slurping some into his mouth, then offered it to Dustin, as he rolled over and lay, panting. "Oh, baby."

There was a pause as they lay, chests heaving, holding each other. Dustin closed his eyes and burrowed in against Alex, feeling safe, feeling perfect in his lover's hold. The things that he had needed to do were all for this man, and this was why he didn't mind learning. If it was for Alex, then he would do whatever it took.

"God, I love you, Cub," Alex said. He kissed Dustin's eyes. "I was so sure... every day I worried I would never see you again."

"Like a bad penny!" chuckled Dustin. "You don't get rid of me so rapidly, my love. You'd have to tell me to go and never come back before I'd let you go."

Alex tensed, and looked at Dustin, longing in his eyes... and a hint of fear. "And if I did, moi lyubov? Would you leave me?"

"Not a chance." The words fell easily from Dustin's lips. "You don't get rid of me that quickly." He smiled and leaned to kiss Alex once again. "I'm really hungry, Alex. C'mon, love, let's go find something to eat. My stomach thinks that my throat was cut."

Alex smiled. "I... I'm not that hungry, Cub. I could do with some coffee. But, I'll help you make your food. Okay?"

Pulling on sweats, Dustin made for the door, turned, and held out his hands to Alex. "God, Alex, you have no idea just how wonderful it is to have you back with me. I missed you so much."

Alex pulled on some handy clothing and hugged Dustin close. "I... I ached for you every day, Dustin. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have made it. But... sometimes... at night? I could really almost feel you, beside me, telling me to hang on, because you loved me. And, it gave me the strength I needed to keep on living." He kissed Dustin's neck and face. "Baby... we'll never be apart again, will we?"

"Not by choice, my lover. Definitely not by choice." Dustin's hands ran the length of Alex's body, and he suddenly laughed. "Come on, or we'll never get out of the bedroom. Plenty of time for this later on today, after I eat. Got to keep up my strength, you know?" He patted Alex's bottom, turned, and started to descend the stairs.

Alex laughed, and followed his lover to the kitchen, running ahead to get him eggs and toast and cereal. "How do you want them cooked, my love?"

"You're gonna cook for me?" Dustin chuckled. "The great assassin and lover and short order cook! Easy-over will be fine, and lightly done toast, please." Dustin busied himself with the coffee maker, measuring out the coffee and water for Alex, face set in concentration as he set it running. Passing Alex on his way to find sugar, he swept the laughing man into an embrace, and kissed him, brief but hard.

Alex didn't want to let Dustin go, ever. He flipped his lover's eggs and put the toast into the toaster, spinning on the return to kiss Dustin yet again. He saw Heitz come into the kitchen, chuckling in bemusement. Just then the telephone rang.

"Werber." Heitz had picked up the white, antique phone that stood in the corner beside the breakfast nook. He listened intently, and then held out the phone to Dustin. "It would seem to be for you, young man."

Dustin took the phone from the psychiatrist, and held it to his ear, wondering who would be calling him now.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line was Marita's.

"Dustin," Marita said. "It happened, just as you hoped." She looked around her. She was in the foyer of the Watergate Hotel. "You understand what I mean, don't you, Dustin?"

A shadow fell across his face. He did indeed. "I'll be there in half an hour. It looks as though we're about to wrap this up, doesn't it?" He glanced at Alex, now happily laying out his eggs and looking utterly relaxed as he played at being a short order cook. If he could just get everything tied up and take Alex home, he would thank all the deities that had ever been worshipped. "I'll see you soon, okay?" He replaced the receiver in its cradle, and moved back over to where Alex had produced his breakfast with a flourish.

"Thanks, love," he murmured, and stole his arms around his lover, hugging him fiercely before sitting down and beginning to eat.

Alex sat beside Dustin, watching him eat. His stomach growled, but he smiled. "Is it good? Did I cook it right?"

Dustin loaded his fork, took a bite and moaned his appreciation, then filled it again and held the fork to Alex's lips. "Taste it, love. It's yummy."

Alex thought for a moment. "Who was that on the phone, love?"

"That was Marita. I have to take her some stuff after breakfast. I'll be back in about an hour." Dustin tapped Alex's lips with the fork. "C'mon, or I'm gonna think that you're trying to poison me."

Alex blinked. "No... um, no thanks. I'm ... I made that for you, you need it."

Putting his fork down, Dustin turned to Alex, kissed his lips and stood up. "Okay. I can play that game too." He turned to leave the kitchen.

Alex stared after him. "It's... I want to make you happy, Dustin..." He hung his head.

"What would make me happy, Alex, is for you to stop fucking around with me, and eat something. If you don't, then I won't. Got that?" Dustin stood, fists clenched, his anger growing at Alex's inexplicable behavior.

Alex looked at Dustin. "Why... are you doing this to me?" he said. His eyes went wide as he felt Alyosha coming to the fore... or was it Alexei? He couldn't tell. "Why do you want me to... be bad? Won't be pretty if I'm bad."

"Come on, Alex. I don't have time for this. Just do what I ask, because I love you? Because you love me?" Dustin kissed him hard, and then let him go to leave again.

Alexei looked after him, watching him go. "Come back... soon?" he said, sadly. "You didn't finish your breakfast."

As Dustin left the house, the occupants of the kitchen could hear him greeting someone, and a few seconds later, Karl Mackey strode into the room. Dr. Werber smiled a greeting and indicated Alex, where he stood at the stove.

"I have meetings that I must attend. I will see the two of you later in the afternoon. Please to make yourselves at home." With that, Dr. Werber left the kitchen, and shortly afterwards they heard the front door close behind him.

Alex looked at Karl. "Want some breakfast?" Then, a feral smile broke out on his lips. "Or do you want to... play, Karl, my baby?"

Striding into the foyer of the Watergate Hotel, Dustin looked around. Marita was sitting in a corner of the room, and looked up as he came towards her, the perfectly coifed head tilted as she studied him.

Dressed in Alex's clothing, Dustin had put on the arrogance his lover exuded along with the clothes that he was wearing.

"Shall we get to it?" He stood over her, apparently seething with impatience.

Marita stood up. "No time like the present," she said, noting again how much he resembled Alex. Alex had told her once he wished Dustin to be his partner, and she smiled at the thought. Crack assassin team, indeed!

"Let's go, then," she said, walking towards the elevators.

"Uh..." There was a pause. "I need to eat something. Alex and I... We had kind of a row and I didn't get any breakfast." Dustin looked at her with an absurdly young expression on his face.

Marita looked at him. "All right..." She headed for the hotel restaurant. "You and Alex had a fight? What about?" Her brow furrowed in concern.

"He won't eat, Marita. He made me breakfast but he wouldn't have any. He's starving himself to death, and I can't bear it. I told him I wouldn't eat if he didn't, but then I had to leave. I don't know what to do about him." They found a booth and slid into it to examine the menu.

Marita frowned, and set her mouth into a thin line. "Do you know what they used to do to him if he ate, even if they put the food in front of him?" She looked at her menu. "They used to do that, you know. Try to tempt him..."

"Fuck that. That was then. This is now. He has to eat something or he's gonna die. Come to that, he must have eaten something from time to time. You gotta tell me how to help him. I can't cope with this." Dustin pushed the menu away from him and buried his head in his hands. "The old fuck dies today. No arguments."

Marita sighed. "Only his Daddy could feed him, whoever that might have been at the time." She waited for the full implication of her words to sink in. "He... he needs to be... loved. His... alters need to be loved. He needs to be retrained, pretty much..."

She looked down. "Remember what we told you about... Little Jeffy? You haven't heard the whole story... but maybe it should wait till after breakfast."

"Quit playing with me. I need to know how to make him eat. I need to stop him from being this... this little kid. What do I do?" He closed his mouth and waited as the waitress brought them coffee. Ordering breakfast, he waited for her to go back and deliver the request, and then turned to Marita once more. "So what the hell can I do?

"Heal the kid, save the man," Marita said. "You need to become his Daddy, if you really mean to help him, Dustin."

She looked up and locked her eyes on his. "It will mean a lot of work. Are you willing to do that?"

Dustin met Marita's eyes. "I will do whatever it takes." He set his mouth, and his chin went up in a gesture that was unmistakably Alex.

Marita smiled. "That's what Alex needs. Someone willing to go the distance. You know, if you ever need help... I'll be there for him. For you. Even though I don't always fully understand... he's... he calls me Mama sometimes. I... never quite know what to do, when he does. All I can do is hold him and love him as best I can." She had thought this admission would make her feel better, but somehow it left her feeling more vulnerable, exposed. Inadequate.

As their food arrived, they both ate in silence, each of them victims of their thoughts. It was some time later when Dustin pushed his plate to one side and smiled.

"That feels better. Now, let me look at my list. Oh, yeah." He grinned. "First, kill the old fucker with the bad habit, second, get Heitz to make me into Alex's Daddy, and third, make him eat some fucking lunch. Does that sound about right?"

Marita chuckled. "I see you still have your 'Dustin' sense of humor. Yep. For you, all in a day's work!" She grinned at him, and then wiped a piece of egg off his cheek with her finger. "We're gonna make a superspy of you yet."

"I guess that it's time then." Dustin's face turned cold. "Strike one. The old fuck." He tossed a couple of bills on the table to pay for breakfast, and offered Marita his arm. "Let's get it over with."

Marita stood up, hooking her arm in his. "The gentlemanly assassin," she whispered in his ear. "Hey, I'm looking forward to this," she said, as they walked towards the elevators.

Sascha leaned over Karl, tying him to Werber's bed. He was naked, and Sascha was grinning with the same feral grin he'd had since Karl's arrival. Karl's body was striped from when Alex had fucked him earlier, hitting him with a belt as part of the "play." Now he hissed into Mackey's ear as he tightened the knots. "You're such a slut, Karl. You're so into pain. I love to hurt you, as much as you love being hurt." He canted his head, biting the nape of Karl's neck as he unzipped his fly. "Now, bitch," he grunted, parting Mackey's asscheeks with his hand and shoving into Karl's anus, grunting as his cock slid home. "I'm gonna fuck you bloody, Karl," he said.

The words made Karl shiver. This was his Alex, come back to him again.

"I love you, Alex," he mumbled through split and bleeding lips. "Whatever you want of me, take it."

"Damn right," Sascha hissed, slamming his hips forward into Karl. "Oh, Karl..." He moved his hips swiftly, brutally, and gripped Mackey's ass hard in his hand, leaving red marks. "I love how you look right now, Karl. Do you know how that turns me on?"

Pain blossomed in Karl's rectum, gnawed at his spine as Alex fucked him. He didn't know why this was happening. He was merely grateful that it was. As Alex drove into him, Karl moaned at each stroke.

Alex could feel the blood in Karl's anus from their earlier session, and sped up his thrusts, deepening them. He wanted to see and feel it dripping down the man's thighs when he pulled out... paint the man red with his anger and fury. "Bleed, Karl. Bleed for me... YEAH!" He drove in again and again, feeling his orgasm bubbling up. Leaning his head back, he spurted into Karl's ass, crying out as he did so.

After a few moments, when he'd come down from the high, he pulled out, grinning fiercely. His cock was slick with his jism and Karl's blood... mostly blood, as he'd shot most of his load earlier. Now, bitch..." He tightened Karl's bonds, so there was no way he could move, or get out of position comfortably... on his hands and knees, ankles tied to his wrists, ass in the air.

He stuck his finger into Karl's anus, scraping the side with a nail to get more blood. Chuckling evilly, he wrote "Sascha" across Karl's ass in blood, and then stood up, tucking his now flaccid cock into his briefs and zipping up. "That was good, Karl," he said. "Stay put now. I got someplace I gotta be. So sorry you can't come with..." He turned, and left the room.

"Alex?" Karl suddenly panicked. "Alex?" he called again. "Oh, God, Sascha? No, come back."

He could hear nothing. Alex had gone.

Marita walked next to Dustin, eyes ahead, intent on their goal. There was something she wondered about... "Mulder's abduction. You arranged for that, didn't you," she said. It was more of a statement than a question.

"What made you think that?" Dustin's smile was shark-keen in the dim lighting of the corridor. "How could I possibly arrange for something like that? I'm just a poor little producer from La-La-Land. I don't know any aliens."

Marita chuckled. "You really want me to believe in your innocent act, Dustin? I think I know you better than that by now. You're Alex's twin... or close to. You're so much like him... and that's a very Alex thing to do." She paused, and smiled at him. "It's gonna be hard to leave you guys... I ..." She wanted to say she loved them, but didn't know if that would be all right. "I've come to care for you, as well as Alex."

Dustin stopped and turned to face her. "You really think that he's my twin? How did that happen? Tell me about it. I need to know."

"I think..." She put her hands on his shoulders. "I think... you love him so much... that... you're willing to die for him, to avenge him... whatever it takes. And here you are, avenging him. If he knew what you were doing, he'd cry... he loves you, Dustin. Even when he's.. afraid... know this he's never loved anyone like he has you. I believe... I really believe, only you can save him. You will, won't you? Save him?"

"You know that I'll do what I can, or die trying, but you said that we're twins. Why did you say that? What do you know?" Dustin took hold of her shoulders and shook her abruptly. "Tell me what you know. I have to find out." His face was set in an expression that Marita knew only too well, although in the past it had not been Dustin who wore it, but Sascha.

"Nothing," Marita said. "Figure of speech. That's all." She took a step backwards, concerned.

"Oh, no you don't." Dustin followed her in, and she found herself facing the wall with her arm twisted up behind her back. "I told you; I need to know. Tell me."

Marita gritted her teeth. "There's nothing I can tell you." She whirled on him, eyes blazing. "You want to know so goddamned much, you'll have to ask him." She nodded upwards. "The Smoker. There are things even I don't know." She paused, staring at him. "All I know is... there might have been... another."

There was a pause, and Dustin tightened his grip on her arm until it creaked. Finally, she spoke, her voice thick with pain. "There WAS another. Your mother couldn't, wouldn't, give both her twins to the Smoker... so she sent one to America when he was only a few months old... with a family that was going to ... California."

Slowly Dustin released his grip on her and fell back, his face confused, the old Dustin looking through hurt eyes. "You're kidding, right? You're yanking my chain? Come on, Marita. Tell me that you aren't serious."

Marita shook her head. "I wish I were. It... it could have been you, but..." She met his eyes. "Now, don't you go feeling guilty on me, Buddy. You're not done yet. You can feel badly about it later."

He stared at her, his eyes wide and frightened, and then seemed to take himself in hand and squared his shoulders, patted her, and grinned an apology. "I... I'll make it up to you, Marita. I'm sorry. Come on. We've got a bastard to kill and Alex is waiting for me." Turning, he started forward once more.

Marita smiled tightly. "Right. I can't wait to see you kill that bastard. Too bad you said you wouldn't gut him alive slowly, though. I think he deserves that, for what he did to Alex." She smiled nastily. "Don't you?"

The smile that Dustin turned on her was cold, and it was apparent that he was determined. "There isn't enough pain to pay him back for what he's done to my lover. I'm going to send him somewhere that he'll suffer for an eternity. He's going to hell tonight, and I'm going to send him there." They arrived at the entrance of the penthouse suite, and Dustin rapped sharply on the door. "He'll be in Hell tonight," he repeated as they waited for the knock to be answered.

Greta turned from the window where Spender sat in his wheelchair, looking out pensively. She opened the door, and nodded. Stepping aside, she let them enter.

Spender had been thinking about the alien invasion, but also about his project with the boys. Their mother had fooled him once, or tried to at least, and now he'd tried, and failed, to set it right. He swallowed. To the room at large, he said, "We've failed, then. Perhaps you never meant to succeed. Anyway... the hour is at hand, I presume."

No words were spoken. Dustin, set-faced and determined, strode to where the evil old man sat in his wheelchair. It was as though this were a deadly snake, a creature that had assumed the form of a human in order to cause harm. It seemed to Dustin that he might even welcome a return to Hell. There was a pause, and then he gripped the handles of the wheelchair and began to push it out of the room. As he did so, Greta, in her nurse's uniform, moved to stop him, and Marita stepped into her path and halted her.

Greta looked at Marita as the younger woman held her throat, then looked past her, stunned. Krycek should never have been able to do this... unless...

"What are you doing?" she asked, sharply.

Her words seemed to release Dustin from the frozen moment into which he'd fallen. He shook himself, and glared at Greta.

"Sending the Devil back to Hell." he grated, and began at last to move forward again, pushing the chair in which the old man sat towards the head of the flight of stairs.

Spender felt the anger in Alex as he was pushed to the top of the stairs.He wanted to reach out, to stop him, and force his darling boy to suck him deep, to beg for his love, and look at him with pleading green eyes, full of fear.

He would have, if that's what the Smoker had wanted. This time, he didn't ask it of Alex.

Instead, he simply looked at Alex, his creation, his masterpiece, fatalistically, and said, "As you do to Mulder and to me... you do to all of mankind, Alex."

Alex Krycek had slipped into the Watergate, and started up the stairs. Daddy... His Daddy was here, waiting for him. He hadn't found the ship, true, but as Karl had said, neither had Mulder. He would tell his Daddy that, and Daddy would love him, hold him, and he would suck Daddy, make him feel good... Daddy never hit him while he was pleasing him. He would make him love him, lick him so well... he'd be forgiven, and loved.

All he wanted was to be loved.

He could feel Daddy's arms around him. He'd be safe.

Spender looked at Alex. Would the boy do it? He really doubted that he would. It went against all his programming, after all.

Dustin stood for a moment, and unless you'd looked into his eyes, you might have believed him to be undecided. A close examination revealed a determination so deep that it seemed set into the man's bones.

"As you do to Mulder and to me... you do to all of mankind, Alex."

He paused for a moment longer, then decisively pushed the man, and his wheelchair, down the stairs. It was over in an instant, and the old man lay still, a crumpled heap at the foot of the staircase.

Marita looked back at Greta, then turned to follow Dustin down the stairs, gingerly stepping over Spender's body, as Dustin had done already. She'd smile later... for now, her features were set into a hard line.

Alex stayed behind the fire door, where he'd hidden at the sound of other people in the hall. He pushed the door open after the two figures had walked past, starting down the next flight. Grinning fiercely, he walked toward the stairs... and saw Daddy, lying motionless.

He dropped to his knees. Someone... someone had hurt his Daddy. Who? He whipped his head around, but saw nothing. Felt nothing. He bent down to his Daddy, kissing him softly. "Daddy?" he said. "Daddy, get up..." But Daddy did not move.

Alyosha began to whimper. "Daddy... Daddy..." Alexei kissed Daddy again. Maybe... maybe. He began to whimper more loudly, feeling his way down Daddy's trousers. He'd give him a good suck, and Daddy would love him, hold him. He'd be safe in Daddy's embrace.

He buried his head in Daddy's chest, lowering himself, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Looking up, he saw the hard visage of Greta, her cold eyes set in menace.

"Mom... Mommy?" Alexei asked, lip trembling. "What... what's wrong with Daddy?"

Dustin had turned back. He'd no idea why, but his mind was shrieking at him that something was wrong. As he returned to the staircase, he saw Alex on his knees beside the fallen Smoker. Gritting back a curse, he strode over to haul Alex to his feet and hold him close as he began to resist.

"Help me, Marita. How did he get here?" The words were as full of menace as anything the woman had ever heard Alex say.

Marita looked at Dustin. "I have no idea. Didn't you say Karl was...my God, he must have... overpowered Karl."

Alex twisted away from Dustin. "Mommy Greta," he said. "What happened to my Daddy? I wanted my Daddy to love me, see what a good boy I am... I came back..." With a jerk, he broke free of Dustin, falling back down to Spender's side, looking up at Greta. "I was a bad boy, wasn't I?" he said, despairingly.

"Alex, Alex, come on, love. I can't stand this." Dustin crouched beside Alex and put his arm around the man's shoulders. "Leave this old bastard where he lies, and come home with me, love."

Alex pulled away from Dustin, putting a hand on Greta's leg, beneath her skirt. "Mommy Greta... what... what happened? What happened to Daddy?" His eyes pleaded with her for help.

Greta was standing back at the foot of the stairs, but now she stepped forward towards Alex, and her smile was as unpleasant as any that Dustin had ever seen. He wondered what was happening when he caught a glint of steel in her left hand, partially hidden by her full skirt, but suddenly he knew what the woman's intentions were. As she raised her knife to stab Alex, he was ready for her; at once his own knife was out, slicing its way up into her solar plexus to stab her heart. She looked almost comically surprised as she crumpled to lie in a widening pool of her own blood. Dustin put away his knife and turned back to Alex.

Blood... and screams. Iron and warmth. It was happening again, all over again... Krycek trembled.

*"Bad, bad boy. You know we can't kill you... not this time, Alexei. But we can show you... "*

Alex gasped.

*A young boy was caught, twisted, thrown. Crying out. Lights... a stone slab. Tied prone. Whips... electric pulse...*

*"No..."*

*"Yes, Alexei. Lie still now." Hurt, hurt... a twist and a slap. Hard cock shoved into his ass... he screamed, screamed as they told him all they would do to him... him and... *

*"Watch, Alexei."*

*His friend, Little Jeffy, was placed on a table... Daddy stood nearby.*

"Come on, Alex. It's time to go home now." Dustin pulled at Alex, and when he didn't move, he turned to Marita. "Help me bring him, for God's sake."

"Noooo..."

*Sergei put his hand on Alexei's shoulder. "My good boy... we need to make you tough. You've seen him take the oil... seen him raped alongside you. But watch this, boy... it'll be... intense. You'll never forget."*

*Alex tried to look away, but his Daddy and Daddy Sergei held him fast. *

*"Watch..."*

*A large blade was brought up. Little Jeffy tracked it with his eyes, fearfully. "Alex, help me..."*

*Alex tried to run to him, but was held back.*

*A scream, a slice, rivers of blood, torrents of it, the taste, the dying screams, the...*

Alex turned inward to himself, shaking and rocking. He felt a hand... crawled away from it. How could they kill his friend? He rocked, rocked...

Marita looked at Dustin, then dropped to her knees, helping Dustin to pick Alex up. "Let's get him to the car."

Alex shook, trying to curl away from the people who grabbed him. He knew he was going to be punished severely. He also didn't want to leave his Daddy's side. He reached out, grabbing onto Spender's jacket, tightly. He keened softly. "I'll be good... Daddy... be good for you..."

"Marita? God!" Dustin was panicked now. Together, they dragged Alex away from the pair of bodies that lay abandoned at the foot of the stairs. Bundling him between them, they managed to crowd him into the elevator and as Dustin held him, Marita pressed the button that closed the door on the dreadful scene.

Alex sank down on the floor of the elevator, drawing his knees to his chest and turning towards the wall. He wouldn't look at Marita or Dustin. "Sorry..." was all he said. "So sorry... love my Daddy."

They struggled him to the car and Marita drove them back to Werber's house. Dustin sat with Alex, holding him tightly while Alex sobbed quietly. When they arrived, Dustin shook him gently.

"We're back home again now, love. Come on."

Alex just looked at him briefly with terrified eyes, and tried to turn away.

They pulled him from the car, led him up the steps, and finally deposited him in a chair in Dr. Werber's living room. Dustin was frantic. He held on to Alex, begging him to come back to him, while Marita went to find Dr. Werber.

Alex sobbed. "Please. I know you're going to hurt me. Please... get it done. Kill me..."

*"Death is too good for you, Boy."*

Alyosha screamed, and jerked away, ending up on the floor in a fetal position, rocking himself furiously.

Dr. Werber came at last from where he had been tending to Karl. He said nothing, merely administered an injection to Alex as Dustin held him in his arms.

"He's in a very bad place. If we ever bring him back, it will be a long, hard struggle. Are you sure that you are strong enough to follow it through?"

Marita looked at Dustin. "Here it comes. The hard part."

Karl limped into the room and over to Dustin. "He... Dustin. He... Sascha... tied me. I had to obey him. Sascha... he's a force of nature. You don't say no to Sascha..."

He knelt, trying to talk to Alex, who whimpered and pulled away. "Alex, it's me... Karl."

Alex screamed, softly, and jerked away.

Mackey looked at Dustin. "Dustin... what happened?"

Releasing Alex at last, Dustin stood up, strode towards Mackey, and punched him hard, knocking him backwards, and then lunging to grab Karl's shirt front to hit him again.

"You fucking incompetent. You let him go. You let him follow. Can't you do anything right?"

Karl growled, finding his feet and shoving Dustin back. "You've never seen Sascha. You don't know... what he's like. How could you?" Mackey's face flushed. "Anyway, YOU should have known this would happen. You claim to *know* my Alex so well.. You should have known, and how could you kill his Daddy where he'd see it?" Karl breathed heavily, right up in Dustin's face. "I won't let you hurt my Alex." He strode over to Alex and tried to talk to him, but again Alex whimpered, crying, "Daddy... no... please, don't. I'll be good."

Dustin shot out his hand to seize Karl, hauling him back away from Alex, but Dr. Werber's normally mild voice cut across the squabble, rocking Dustin and causing Alex, who was gradually becoming drowsy, to whimper again.

"Stop your fighting. This is no way to help Alex." Both men snapped their heads around to look at Dr. Werber, and Dustin said in a choked voice, "What do you suggest we do?"

Werber said, "First of all, release Karl." Then he added, "I can't be sure until I find out more about his programming. I'll need to do deep regression hypnosis, to find out how... ingrained... things are, and what... why he's acting this way. Where he is."

To Be Continued

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