"Turnabout"
By Viridian5
7/98

RATING: NC-17.  If m/m interaction bothers you, leave now.
SPOILERS: "Anasazi," "Paper Clip," "Travelers"
SUMMARY: Krycek finds out that being completely in Mulder's 
power isn't all that bad.
DISCLAIMERS: All things X-Files belong to Chris Carter, Ten-
Thirteen, and 20th Century Fox.  "I Only Have Eyes For You" by 
the Flamingos.  I'm just sharing and not making a cent off any of 
this, I swear!  No infringement intended.  Suing me would be a 
waste of time and a mean thing to do.  I have no money.  At all.
DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, as long as you ask me first.
FEEDBACK: to Viridian5@aol.com 
NOTES: This one is *totally* Te's fault.  I was talking about a 
different story concept entirely when she said she supported my 
idea of doing an "Addictions" what-if with Krycek as the one in 
the cuffs.  That wasn't my idea, but it is now...  
You don't have to read "Addictions" for this, because this is not 
the same story, but you can consider this a companion piece.  I, of 
course, would prefer it if you read everything I wrote, thanks.
All smoking descriptions courtesy of Te, my intensely talented 
beta-reader and former smoker.  I am seriously allergic.  
I in no way condone the behavior depicted below.  Except, 
perhaps, for the anal sex.

=========================================
"Turnabout"
By Viridian5
=========================================
"I'm taking a ride with my best friend
I hope he never lets me down again
He knows where he's taking me
Taking me where I want to be
I'm taking a ride with my best friend
...
Promises me I'm as safe as houses
As long as I remember who's wearing the trousers
I hope he never lets me down again"
- "Never Let Me Down Again" by Depeche Mode
------------------------------------------------------------------------

As streams of sweat flowed down his skin and made his shirt stick 
to his back, Mulder couldn't believe that Krycek had chosen a car 
with no air conditioning.  Being forced to choose from the 
selection offered by Middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania shouldn't 
have made that much of a difference.  *One* of those cars should 
have come equipped with A/C.  Between the noisy, sluggish 
engine and the lack of air conditioning in a freak 90-degree heat 
wave, this piece of junk hadn't been worth the two minutes it took 
Krycek to hot-wire it.  It also stank of cigarette smoke, making 
Mulder crave one desperately.

//My lost love...  I'm over that.  Long past.  Bobby has no power 
over me anymore.//  But the smell permeated everything.  Mulder 
imagined he could peel the upholstery away layer by layer and still 
find material infused with that horrid, lovely odor.  //I *want*--  I 
don't want to remember.//

Even at 7 p.m., the wind that came in through the four open 
windows baked him.  Mulder fought the temptation to accelerate to 
try to cool the air coming in.  If he noticed pursuit, then he would 
speed up.  He saw no need to unnecessarily break laws.

To his great relief, the tape player worked, and Krycek had some 
good cassettes in his knapsack.  The only five radio stations that 
came in clearly in this mountainous, backwater part of the state 
were country/western.  Mulder believed that country music had 
subliminal messages hidden in it to force its listeners to conform to 
some redneck template.  Well, he didn't seriously believe that.

Though he sometimes wondered...

Mulder looked over at his passenger.  Krycek still hadn't come to.  
Mulder hadn't seen any no signs of concussion when he'd last 
checked, but an hour of unconsciousness worried him.  In a few 
minutes he would try to wake his former partner up.  

Krycek's head rested on the open window, so the wind blew 
through his sweat-damp hair, currently free of the styling products 
he'd abused while Mulder's partner.  It begged to be touched...  
One of the advantages of this old car was the sturdy, well-anchored 
door handle, which Mulder had looped his former partner's 
handcuffs around.  As bad as he felt about it, he told himself that 
Krycek would have no compunctions about doing the same to him.  
The older man knew he'd gotten a lucky shot in, although he also 
admitted to himself that he had gone a little too far in smashing 
Krycek's head against the car hood once the triple agent had 
started to go down.  

Krycek was a killer and a traitor, but what Mulder had done had 
been mean.  Wrong.  He hadn't enjoyed it all.

Really.

He had Krycek in his custody at last.  Too bad the Consortium 
agents had made it necessary for him to flee with the rat bastard.

Mulder wondered how Scully was holding up with their rental car, 
wondered if any of the operatives had tried to pursue her.  When he 
spoke to her on the cell phone ten minutes ago she hadn't seen 
anyone, but that didn't mean anything.  He worried about her but 
figured she had a better chance of getting away unmolested if she 
weren't in his company.

Thinking about his partner brought Mulder's thoughts back to his 
ex-partner.  He grabbed the younger man's leg and shook it.  
"Krycek!"

Krycek came back to consciousness sluggishly, but his eyes 
gradually cleared and showed a potent combination of rage, pain, 
and disbelief.  Especially when he saw the handcuffs.  "What--  
How the hell--" he rasped.  Sweat glistened on his skin and made 
the swollen black-purple bruise on his forehead sparkle.

"I got a lucky shot in," Mulder said.

Krycek smirked at the cuffs holding him to the door.  "I didn't 
realize you were so kinky." He sat back with an attitude of perfect, 
relaxed comfort.

"There are a lot of things you don't realize about me."

That seemed to set his former partner back a little.  "Where are 
we?"

"Near Exit 29 on I-80 in Pennsylvania.  Mile Run."

"Why didn't you just leave me?"

"After all the time I spent looking for you?  You killed my father, 
you stupid son of a bitch.  I have plans for you."

"Going vigilante on me, Mulder?" Krycek taunted.

"Not yet.  When I get there, you'll know." As a bead of sweat 
dripped into and stung Mulder's left eye, he asked, "You couldn't 
steal a car with air conditioning?"

"Oh, shut up." Krycek had an odd look on his face though.  Mulder 
desperately wanted to ask but didn't.  He refused to give the traitor 
any footholds into his mind.

After that they rode in silence until Mulder pulled off the highway 
at Exit 22 for Snow Shoe, Pennsylvania.  Mulder appreciated the 
irony.

He didn't owe Krycek a damned thing but still said, "We're 
stopping for gas and supplies.  *You're* staying in the car."  He 
stopped the car at a gas station/convenience store island.

"Sure thing, Mulder.  It would be hard for me to go anywhere with 
the cuffs on, anyway."

"Thanks for understanding, Krycek--"

With a lightning speed that left Mulder surprised he found himself 
grabbing Krycek by the hair and ramming his head against the 
dashboard, knocking him out cold.  "--you lying son of a..." 
Breathing hard, Mulder stared at his ex-partner with mixed 
emotions he couldn't untangle.  //That felt so good...  I'll think 
about it later.//  The older man eased Krycek back against the seat 
and posed him so his former partner looked like he was sleeping.  
A person walking by would have to come right up to the door to 
see the cuffed hands.

//I had no choice.  He was lying to me.  He would have made 
trouble or escaped any other way.  I had to knock him out.//  

Why did Krycek have to look so angelic when unconscious?  
Young and innocent and sweet and vulnerable... and sexy... and 
vulnerable.  Sweat gleamed on his smooth skin.  Mulder had 
dipped in to lick a drop of sweat off Krycek's temple before he 
even realized what he meant to do.  He kissed the purple-black 
bruise on the younger man's forehead, tracing the small lump with 
his tongue.

Mulder shuddered.  //This is worse than I thought.  Definitely time 
to get out of the car!//

Away from the cigarette smell, Mulder felt more centered, more 
himself.  He had been reverting without even realizing.  //Damn 
you, Bobby.  "You'll never leave me, will you, Fox?"  They 
executed you years ago, but *you* stayed with *me*.//

Mulder pumped the gas, then went into the convenience store 
section to pay for it and get some supplies.  They wouldn't last 
long in this heat without provisions.  He wanted to ask about 
places to stay overnight as well.  The engine noise and sluggish 
feel of the car suggested severe transmission problems.  He didn't 
want to get stranded in the middle of nowhere.

When Mulder walked inside, the air conditioning hit him like a 
wall of dry ice, such an intense contrast after the heat that he felt 
ill.  It felt like the air sucked the moisture out of him.  The lights 
felt too starkly white, the colors of the interior too bright.  He 
wanted to return to the dimness of the car.

He chose a cooler, a bag of ice, some sandwiches, some ice cream, 
and a few drinks.  A large billfold he'd liberated from Krycek 
would handle the cost. When Mulder reached the counter, he saw 
row upon row of cigarette packs.  

Bobby had shown him how to appreciate cigarettes.  The feel and 
sound of the crinkly cellophane that wrapped the box.  The squeeze 
to pop the top open.  The touch of the cylinder between his lips and 
the warmth, the flare of fire //I hate and fear fire, really I do, hate 
and fear its deceptive beauty...// at the end of a lighter to ignite it.  
The flow of the smoke drifting through his body like the gentlest 
stream.  The head rush.

Quitting had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but 
it was necessary for both his health and sanity.  He'd had to quit to 
exorcise Bobby McCain.

When Mulder paid, he also bought a pack.

The heat smacked him like a giant hand when he walked out.  He 
felt light-headed and nauseous, but he couldn't do anything about 
the weather.  Mulder thought of cold things, like his father, and 
walked to the car with his bags.

Two cars had followed him all the way down the highway but 
hadn't taken the exit.  They were probably waiting for him to get 
back on.

Mulder knew the Consortium kept a dossier on him.  Why else 
would they have him under constant surveillance?  They no doubt 
had people who analyzed his profile to figure out his next moves.

//They can predict me as I usually am.  But what if I let myself be 
someone else?

//You mean someone like who you were when you were with 
McCain?  Aren't we just making excuses since it's happening 
anyway?

//Shut up.  Channeling a serial killer can be useful.//  He knew why 
it was happening.  The deep-down permeation of smoke and the 
dimness of the car reminded him of the house, and having Krycek 
in his power spurred him in a certain direction...

He put his purchases on the front seat and checked on Krycek, who 
was still out cold.  Mulder started to unbutton the younger man's 
shirt.  Not really because, even unconscious, his former partner 
looked uncomfortably hot, but just because he wanted to.  Mulder 
felt something dark move within his brain when he saw that his 
captive wasn't wearing an undershirt.  He smiled and pulled the 
shirt loose from the tight jeans.  As he looked down at the bare, 
glistening chest, images and possibilities exploded across his mind.  
Things he could do with Krycek.  Things he could do *to* 
Krycek...  //This isn't me!

//Of course it is.  Sit back and enjoy the show.//

Dizzy, he smelled Krycek, his own arousal, and cigarettes.  His 
mind swirling with overload, Mulder ducked in under the younger 
man's arms and took one rosy nipple in his mouth to suck on and 
play with.  It quickly hardened at his touch, and it wasn't the only 
thing.  Mulder rubbed himself against his former partner as he 
nipped and sucked, enjoying the taste and feel of salt and skin. 

Panting, Krycek came to and looked down.  "This is more my 
speed, isn't it?" he gasped.  His eyes had a look of dazed pain to 
accompany the lust.

"Hi," Mulder said.  "Do you mind?"

"No, but it would be better if you took off the cuffs.  I could do 
more for you." Krycek oozed sincerity along with lust.

"Not yet."

Mulder looked over at the store and saw the cashier watching.  He 
grinned at the man, who paled and quickly turned away.  //I like 
this.//

But it brought him back to business.  "We can't do this here."  At 
Krycek's growl, he continued, "I'll just move us along a little and 
stop elsewhere.  I don't want any distractions."

Mulder dumped the ice into the cooler and filled it with the 
goodies he'd bought.  Seeing that his skin had started to burn, he 
retrieved the suntan lotion he'd seen earlier from the door pocket 
and put some on his arms, wincing a little at how hot it was.  //The 
sun kills...//  A visibly frustrated Krycek turned down his offer to 
share it.  Mulder took a good look at the Pennsylvania map he 
found in the glove compartment and plotted out his new route.  
The Consortium expected him to get back on the highway, which 
was a perfect reason why he shouldn't.

Before he got back on the road, Mulder popped an ice cube into his 
mouth and another one into Krycek's.  As he sucked on it and felt 
the cool liquid drip down his throat, his plan came together.

Mulder drove on Route 144 for fifteen minutes until he found a 
suitably secluded place to stop.  With the foliage shielding them 
from the road, no one would notice them.

The heat in Krycek's eyes made Mulder smile.  The older man 
took an ice cube out of the cooler and put it between his teeth 
before climbing back onto his captive's lap within the circle of 
arms cuffed together.  Mulder applied the ice to the small lump on 
Krycek's forehead before slowly trailing it down the side of his 
face to his throat and then chest.  It was a bit awkward, but his 
captive seemed to be enjoying the feel of his fumblings too.  His 
former partner shivered at the cold trail and the feel of water 
sliding down his skin.

Mulder kissed him and sighed as their cold, wet lips met, so 
different from the sweaty heat of the rest of their bodies.  As their 
tongues danced, Mulder felt the hips beneath him shift almost 
rhythmically.  The older man unzipped his captive's jeans and 
started to pull them and the underwear away until Krycek made a 
protesting sound.  

"What?"

"This is leather we're sitting on.  We'll stick.  That wouldn't be 
much fun."

Mulder grinned.  "You don't think having hot leather welded to 
your skin is a turn-on?  Hold on." He picked up the suntan lotion 
and started to massage it into the skin of Krycek's back, ass, and 
legs.  His former partner groaned as Mulder stroked the heated 
lotion into the skin with increasingly ruthless caresses, moving 
towards the insistently hard cock.  The older man stroked and 
pulled it with long, slick fingers.  The smell of coconut hung heavy 
in the air, reminding Mulder of childhood trips to the beach.

Then he stripped himself down, not easy to do in the circle of 
Krycek's arms sitting on his lap.  His captive once again seemed to 
enjoy his gyrations.  Once he was naked, Mulder squeezed out 
more suntan lotion and stroked it into himself, knowing from 
experience just how to move his fingers to give himself the most 
pleasure possible.  He moaned and moved shamelessly against his 
ex-partner.

Krycek watched, mesmerized. "Oh, God, what did I do to deserve 
this?"

"You don't deserve this," Mulder said before he removed his 
fingers and impaled himself on Krycek's cock.  He rocked and slid 
himself up and down to increase the friction, grinning as the old 
springs of the seat started to squeak.  His captive bucked and thrust 
into him with a strength that almost made his teeth rattle.  "I want 
it harder!" 

As Krycek complied and started to bite at his neck, Mulder swore 
he could feel every atom in his body move, every neuron spark.  
As sensation burned through him, he heard the breeze whisper 
through the trees around him and wished he could make out the 
true color of the lush foliage around the car.  He couldn't judge, 
but he thought it would be the same color as Krycek's eyes.  His 
former partner's long ago FBI profile had called those eyes green, 
an abstract concept.  As Mulder came hard, for an eternal, 
lightning-seared moment he almost expected everything to turn to 
Technicolor, his colorblindness cured by one mind-blowing fuck.  
The younger man shuddered in orgasm soon afterward.  Panting, 
they melted against one another.

//It's been too long...//

A few minutes later Mulder carefully reached for his pants and 
pulled the cigarettes and a lighter from a pocket.  When he saw the 
look of naked want, a muted version of the previous lust, on his 
captive's face, Mulder asked, "You smoke, Krycek?"

"Used to." Krycek's low, husky voice made Mulder shudder, 
which made the younger man shiver in turn.  "The smell in this 
car...  You do?"

"Used to." Mulder peeled the plastic away and opened the box, 
taking a moment to savor the smell.  "Do you want one?"

"You have to ask?"

Mulder took two out and put one between Krycek's swollen, 
invitingly-opened lips.  He pursed his own lips around one and 
smiled as sense memory flooded back.  He lit first his partner's and 
then his own.  The head rush and pleasurable tingling through his 
whole body made him shudder.  From the way Krycek's cock 
twitched inside him, the younger man must have felt the same 
thing.  The smoke diffused through him until he slowly blew it out.  
He followed that with two perfect smoke rings, one after the other.  
//Some things you never forget.  What a surprise.//

Krycek stared at him with a look of slightly dazed fascination.  
"Not that I'm complaining, Mulder, but where did this come 
from?" He smiled when Mulder briefly held his cigarette for him.

"I wanted to do it.  And you can call me `Fox.' I know you want 
to." He sighed and blew another smoke ring.  "Not Du Maurier, 
but they'll do.  For now." 

"What do we do next... Fox?" Krycek grinned.  "And you can call 
me Alex."

"Our pursuers might figure out where we went.  The car's 
transmission won't last much longer.  We have to go to ground." 
Mulder slowly disengaged from Krycek, then cleaned up and 
dressed them both.  He left his ex-partner's shirt unbuttoned. 

The younger man smirked, then put an earnest expression on.  
"You can uncuff me.  I'm not going anywhere, especially not when 
you're being so... obliging."

Mulder shivered at the words.  //I'm not going anywhere.  I'll 
never leave you...//  He quickly recovered.  "Wuss.  I wore 
handcuffs for a whole week once." He stroked the side of the other 
man's face.  "I like them on you." He took Krycek's cigarette and 
stubbed it out for him.

Mulder turned the car on and got back on Route 144.  He knew 
what he needed to find.

******************************************************

Alex Krycek stared at Fox Mulder.  //Just when you think you 
know someone...  Who are you, right now?//  His last encounter 
with his former partner had been brutal, with a wired and drugged-
up Mulder about to shoot him after beating the tar our of him.  
Krycek rather liked him violent, as long as that violence got 
directed elsewhere.  They'd always had a jittering tension between 
them, but Alex had never expected it to lead here, to a kinky tryst 
on old leather.  //Not that I mind.  Is he still on something?  I 
wonder if I can keep him like this.//  The older man didn't even 
look quite the same, his face settling into expressions that didn't 
seem familiar and his body into a looser posture.  His body... 

His body had been exquisite.

//So I'm handcuffed to the door.  I don't like it, but I can deal with 
it until I can talk him into letting me loose.  He reacted when I said 
I wouldn't go anywhere.  I just have to use that.  I've been in much 
more unpleasant situations.//  Mulder's hand idly strayed onto 
Alex' thigh and stroked in circular patterns.  //*Much* more 
unpleasant.//

Mulder picked up Route 53 in Moshannon.  Alex wondered if he 
had some destination in mind.  "Are we heading somewhere, 
Fox?" The name still didn't sound right rolling off his lips, even if 
he did like it better. 

"I know what I'm looking for."  He wouldn't say anything else.

When Mulder brought out a cold drink for himself, he occasionally 
let Alex sip from the straw, furthering the surreal atmosphere.  //I 
kind of like this.  When I get loose, I'm going to make you feed 
me, you sick bastard.//  Mulder knew the words to a surprising 
number of the songs on Alex's tapes.  The agent sang softly under 
his breath, stopping once in a while to smoke, and fondled his 
passenger's denim-clad thigh, sometimes straying a little higher.  

//Reminds me a little of me, right now.  Oh, God.//  Alex felt all 
thought disintegrate under the growing need for Mulder to stop the 
damned car and finish it.

He didn't.  The tease.  If this went on much longer, Alex would rip 
off the door handle, grab Mulder, and fuck him until he begged for 
mercy.  Then go right on fucking him.

Rustic scenery passed in a blur.  Wild areas choked with trees.  
Rolling acres of pasture land.  Cows.  More cows than Alex had 
ever seen in his life.  Small towns with small homes.  Signs talking 
about how the Lord either loves or punishes his children.  Dirty 
sheep.  Run-down signs for tourist attractions.  "See our caves by 
boat!"  //I'm going insane here, Mulder!//  More forest.

As the sun started to descend in a bright, rainbow sherbet sky, Alex 
winced away from the blazing ball of orange fire that stood in the 
sky precisely in front of his face.  Mulder put his own sun visor 
down, then asked, "Is the light bothering you, Alex?"

"What do you think?"

He grinned and put Alex's down too.  "We'll be stopping shortly.  
We'll be in Drifting soon." 

"There's a Drifting, Pennsylvania?"

"The town after that is called Drain Lick."

"I don't want to know."

"Is there anything you want, Alex?" Those long fingers kept 
stroking.

"I want you to blow me, damn it!"

Dark, mysterious eyes smoldered at him.  "Why didn't you say 
so?"

//You're kidding, right?//  Mulder found another secluded spot and 
parked the car.  //Maybe not.  I really like this dream.//

Mulder undressed Alex again and tongued the weeping head of his 
former partner's cock. "You still smell like coconut," the older 
man said against the sensitive skin as he slowly, lovingly, 
devoured his treat.  

Just as Alex reached the edge of orgasm, the older man gripped the 
base of his cock hard to stop him.  "I need some things from you, 
Alex."  He kept licking and nipping, though.

"What!" Alex gasped.

"Skinner got attacked in a stair well recently.  He said one of his 
attackers looked a lot like you.  Do you still have the digital tape 
you took from him?"

Pleasure and pain merged into a new entity that razored through 
Alex's whole body.  //I'm going to die.  Can't tell him.  It's my... 
only bargaining chip.  Oh, God, finish me...//

"I can tell that's a yes.  Next, I want you to promise you won't try 
to escape."

Alex was proud to be able to rasp out a rough, "What?"

Mulder's warm mouth engulfed and toyed with Alex's cock a 
moment.  Then he pulled back and said, in a voice that sounded 
like the coldest steel, "I want you to promise you won't try to 
escape." He started to suck again.

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"I promise!  I promise I won't try to escape."

Mulder let go and let Alex explode into his mouth.  Desperate and 
angry, Alex thrust with as much force as he could, but the older 
man took all of it without much strain and kept his former partner's 
bucking hips under control.  When he finally stilled, Mulder--with 
a bright, mischievous look on his face--finished sucking and kissed 
him on the lips.

"Now will you take the handcuffs off?" Alex panted.  //I hate you.  
I love you.  I don't know who the hell you are right now.  I like 
this...//

"No." Mulder dressed him up again and got the car back on the 
road.

As night fell softly with the blue-white radiance of a rural full 
moon, Mulder pulled the car off Route 53 just on the other side of 
Drifting and onto a weed-choked dirt road.  Only a keen eye or a 
person intimately acquainted with the area would see the path.  
Careful scrutiny revealed small cabins amidst the trees.  Despite 
the unseasonable heat, it was only early May and not yet time for 
the summer people to come up.  Thus, the majority of the cabins 
were unoccupied.

Mulder stopped the car and got out to investigate the tiny summer 
homes.  He took his suit jacket and Alex's backpack and leather 
jacket with him.  As he left, he said, "Be good, Alex." His white 
shirt and pale skin glowed in the moonlight.

//*Sure* I will.//  While this new Mulder intrigued Alex too much 
for the triple agent to seriously consider escaping, he at least 
wanted the handcuffs off, putting the power balance back where it 
should be.  //Then I'll give you what you're begging for, "Fox."//  
Alex couldn't reach his lockpick or wrench the door handle loose 
at all.  He started to rummage through the door pocket for 
something he could use as a pick, but Mulder returned too soon.  
The federal agent got back in the car and drove them further into 
the woods. 

They stopped at a small summer home that could have been a 
cover feature for the serial killer version of Better Homes & 
Gardens.  The trees shielded it from even the vague dirt path.  
Plenty of space to bury the bodies in.  Silence and shadows draped 
it.  Had Mulder chosen it for just those reasons?

Mulder stopped the car and walked over to the passenger side.  He 
looked in, eyes dark and gleaming.  Mesmerizing.  "You have two 
choices.  You could spend the night in the car, or you could behave 
and go inside with me."

//What are you really asking, Mulder?//  "Don't worry, Fox.  I 
won't take off." //For now.//

"Remember, you promised."

//I'm not going to forget that any time soon.//  "I remember.  I 
won't try to escape."

"I'm opening the door."

Despite being prepared for it, Alex still almost came tumbling out.  
He just managed to break his fall and maneuver himself into a 
sitting position on the grass.  His legs had fallen asleep.  That 
would make it harder for him to do anything effective.  For now.  

As Mulder leaned in to unlock one of the cuffs, Alex realized that 
his former partner didn't even smell quite the same.  Under the 
smoke smell and the coconut of the suntan lotion, something had 
subtly changed.

Mulder gently eased Alex's arms away from the door, but the rush 
of restored circulation still made the younger man hiss.  Then the 
federal agent put the cuff back on the bare wrist.

"But that's not necessary!  I'm behaving myself!"

Mulder turned a stunning, wry smile on him.  "Right now you 
couldn't escape if you wanted to.  It'll take more of a show of 
devotion than that to get these off."

Mulder helped Alex to his unsteady feet and propelled him to the 
door.  The younger man leaned shamelessly against his captor, 
partly to exaggerate his disability and partly because he enjoyed it.  
//I am such a slut.  And so proud of it.//  The heat of Mulder's body 
provided a delicious contrast to the cooling night air.

It seemed that the federal agent had picked the lock on the door to 
get in the first time.  Alex saw small rooms haunted by the ghosts 
of furniture past, the dusty, white drop cloths glowing faintly in the 
moonlight streaming in through unshuttered windows.  Mulder had 
already uncovered one of the chairs and sat his former partner 
down before he closed the door behind them.  Then he turned a 
few lamps on and started to putter around the house, removing dust 
cloths before briefly disappearing and coming back with towels 
and sheets.  And a thin rope and a knife.  Alex's mouth went dry 
with a tangled emotion he couldn't name.  Who knew with this 
Mulder?

"I'll be outside for a little while," the older man said.  The low 
lamplight made his face a striking puzzle of shadows and light.  "I 
want you to remember that I have your gun and mine.  I also have 
no compunctions about using either or both of them on you if you 
try anything stupid."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm putting up a clothesline.  We need to air this stuff out.  It's 
been sitting in closets for months."

Alex fought off both a stupid disappointment and a mad giggling 
fit.  His mind put up the image of Mulder, in a bizarre display of 
domesticity, hanging sheets and towels out on the line to air out in 
the moonlight.  He lost it and laughed until he cried.

"I'm glad I'm keeping you entertained." But Mulder smiled.  He 
took another look at the steak knife in his hand.  "These people 
have no idea how to care for a blade.  Too dull.  It'll take me 
forever to cut anything with this." He flipped it up in the air.  It 
spun a few times before he casually caught it by the handle.  "If I 
take awhile, I'm struggling with the rope."

//Where have you been all my life?//  "Sure." As Alex watched 
Mulder leave, he decided that waiting for his strength to come back 
wouldn't be a problem.  He had more than enough to keep him 
interested and pass the time.

******************************************************

Twenty minutes later, Mulder returned to the cabin with the cooler 
from the car and started to stock the refrigerator.  All this brought 
him back to childhood summers at the beach house... and *that* 
brought his usual self bobbing back up.

//What the hell are you doing?

//Making myself at home.

//And those bouts with Krycek in the car?

//Making myself at home.//

The ringing of his cell phone interrupted the inner struggle.  "Fo-- 
Mulder."

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully, it's me."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine.  What's going on?"

"No one followed me."

"Some people followed me, but I think I lost them.  I'm holed up 
for the night."

"What about Krycek?"

"I have him cuffed and under control.  He tried to give me trouble 
a few times, but it was nothing I couldn't handle."

"Where will we meet up?"

//I'm not going back!  I like it out here, and I have Krycek all nice 
and cuffed.  They're not taking me back again!//

Flash of memory: //The horrible yellow-white light streamed in 
from broken windows as I picked up the knife.  Its razor edge 
gleamed.  I thought of all the knife training that Bobby had given 
me recently, once he'd come to trust me, took the cuffs off.  It 
made me happy that I could use it to defend him.

//"Get out of here, Bobby!  I'll hold them off.  They'll be gentler 
on me because I used to be one of them, but they know you're a 
cop killer, among other things."

//Bobby's dark eyes scanned my face for betrayal and subterfuge 
but found only honesty.  And love.  "But so are you now, Fox.  I 
can't let them take you." //

"Mulder?" She sounded worried.

"I don't know yet.  I didn't leave my pursuers too far behind.  I'm 
hiding out now.  I think I might be better off if I continued that for 
another day."

"Alright, Mulder."  She didn't sound convinced.

Mulder turned off the phone without a good-bye, as usual.  No 
reason to act any further out of character.  He knew she suspected 
something, but she would never find him out here.

He glanced around the cabin and tried to think of what would make 
it more home-like.  Memory hit again: //I stood in the kitchen, my 
abductor's hand clenched tight and painful on my cuffed wrist.  I 
still couldn't navigate well through the dimness in the house, but 
that didn't matter with the man shoving me in the proper direction.  

//The door was open, letting in fresh air that cut through the 
cigarette stench and blessed sunlight that streamed in like a scythe 
of yellow-white through the murk.  But it might as well have been 
on the other side of the moon.  I still felt woozy and couldn't quite 
control my legs.  I also felt the coiled violence in my guide.  I 
didn't know who he was or why he'd kidnapped me, but I didn't 
want to find out too soon how much my life meant to him.  I 
intended to play along until I could make an escape.

//I couldn't see him entirely.  The sunlight exposed only part of his 
head.  I saw it glance off a high cheekbone, sparkle off one eye the 
color of black coffee, glint off dark brown-black hair, glow on 
selected sections of moon-pale skin.  I briefly saw an orange flare 
from the tip of his cigarette, highlighting a sensual mouth, before it 
went dark again.  Even with my eye for faces, I doubt I could 
describe him to a police artist or identify him from a line-up.  I 
chose to see that as cause for hope.  He might let me live.

//A cat carrier sat on the table.  The small calico cat inside it had 
slept, warm and purring, on my chest earlier as I was lying on the 
bed, cuffed to the headboard.  It reminded me of Punkin, one of the 
neighborhood cats from my childhood.  If I had a bad feeling 
before, it worsened now.

//My abductor forcibly sat me down at the table, then opened the 
carrier.  The calico inside made an immediate run for the door.  
"Do you see, Fox?"  Oh, shit.  This wasn't a random kidnapping.  
"You can love something, care for it, and it will still run from you 
as soon as it can."

//When the cat reached the doorway, I saw a flash of bright, 
blinding silver come slicing down, disturbing the paths of the dust 
motes that had floated peacefully in the sunbeam.  The blade 
screamed as it fell, scything through the air.  I knew what was 
coming.  I tried to steel myself against it and look away, but my 
captor forced my head back around to watch.  The calico's brief, 
high-pitched screech almost got lost under the solid thunk as the 
blade went right through, splattering blood flying, and buried itself 
in the floor.  I flinched at the sound and the thought of how sharp 
and heavy it had to be to slice through bone that quickly.  The half 
of the cat I could see twitched for a minute, then went still.

//A flood of bile rose in my throat.  Only years of time served at 
crime scenes kept me from vomiting.

//"But in my world, you get properly punished for that, Fox."

//Angry and horrified, I forgot good sense.  "My name isn't Fox!  
It's Mul--"

//The open-hand slap knocked me into the wall.  He'd done that 
little wrist-snap that made the blow to my face sting even more.  
"*Fox,* every exterior door and window is rigged.  But you knew 
that.  You understood me, even though you never met me or knew 
my name."  He smiled and stroked the raw area of my face he'd 
just slapped.  "You *understand.*  You created the FBI's profile on 
me."//

"Fox?  You okay?" Alex asked.  He looked like he wanted to crawl 
right inside Mulder's mind to see what made it tick.

Mulder shook his head.  He hadn't had a flashback in years, but he 
could deal with it.  He had before.  "I'm fine.  Let's go car 
shopping."

******************************************************

When Mulder drove them into town, if you could call it that, at 
least he didn't reattach the cuffs to the door.  Alex hoped it 
indicated a greater degree of trust.  The ancient car whined 
throughout and bucked a few times, but it still worked.  For now.

They cruised down empty streets illuminated by the full moon, at 
once revealing and concealing their surroundings.  Reflectors on 
the sides of and in the road sparked white, red, yellow, green, or 
blue from their headlights.  Sometimes the route clung to the top of 
a ridge, leaving almost sheer drops on either side. The metal guard 
barriers were crumpled at points, telling tales of people who had 
lost control and paid dearly for it.  The cool air streaming in 
through the open windows brought the thick sweetness of clover 
and honeysuckle and the tart, tomato-like scent of freshly mown 
grass into the car.  Once in a while a hint of pine drifted in.

Grinning, Alex put his head on Mulder's shoulder.  //No harm in 
kissing up a little.  No harm at all...//  The older man kept on 
smoking silently, but smiled a little in return. Once in a while he 
stroked the side of Alex's face.

They found a residential street and chose a different vehicle from 
there.  The cuffs didn't slow Alex down at all as he broke into and 
hotwired the car.

"I need you to drive the old one until we can ditch it," Mulder said.  
"You know the way back, so I'm letting you drive in front of me, 
where I can see you.  If you try to drive off, I'll shoot out the tires.  
If you try to run, I'll shoot out your knee."

//Oh, baby.//  "Tease."  Alex got into the driver's seat and started 
off, with Mulder in the new car behind him.

Alex quickly got bored.  They had left the cassettes at home, the 
scenery became monotonous after awhile, and he didn't have 
Mulder to play with.  He started to drift into a trance-like state.  

Suddenly the car slipped gears, running at a kind of neutral, before 
bucking and lurching forward at high speed.  Alex became 
abruptly alert as adrenaline hit.  He saw himself flying toward a 
curve with a cliff on one side and a sheer drop on the other.  He 
steered for all he was worth and stayed on the road, although he 
felt two of the tires leave it for a while.  If he hit the brakes at this 
speed, he would lose all control of the car.  Worse, he felt the 
steering start to go out.  //But that has nothing to do with the 
transmission!  Damn it!//  He could now barely control the vehicle.

Finally the car sputtered to a halt at the side of the road near one of 
the metal guard barriers, one of the smashed ones that would 
provide no protection at all.  A few feet more and he would have 
sailed off the edge, eventually hitting bottom and having the 
dashboard forcibly introduced to his brain. 

Breathing hard, Alex rested his head against the steering wheel.  
Mulder's car screeched to a halt on the shoulder behind him.  The 
older man jumped out and rushed to the window before looking in 
with such obvious concern that Alex almost melted.  He would 
have if his nerves hadn't been strung so tight. 

Mulder smiled.  "Great going, Alex.  If we run it off the road here 
it'll be like throwing it off a cliff."

"Are you patronizing me?" Alex panted.

Mulder graced him with a warm look: "I wouldn't dream of it."

Once Mulder got everything he wanted out of the treacherous heap 
of junk, he pushed it off the side of the road.  It fell and hit with a 
satisfying crash but, to Alex's disappointment, didn't burst into 
flames.  It amazed him to see what looked like a similar longing on 
Mulder's face.

Mulder shook his head.  "It's better this way.  The wood's too dry.  
If it blew up, it might take the whole area with it.  We don't need 
that kind of attention.  The guardrail was crushed before we got 
here.  Maybe no one will notice for a while."

As they got into the car, Alex still vibrated with adrenaline and 
reaction.  Mulder got into the driver's seat and turned on the radio, 
switching through a few country stations before a familiar eerie 
intro led to: "My love must be a kind of blind love / I can't see 
anyone but you."

"Fox." Alex moved over on the seat and kissed the older man, the 
combination of adrenaline, a song he loved on the radio, and the 
presence of one of the sexiest, most screwed-up individuals he'd 
ever had the pleasure to meet sitting next to him proving too much 
to resist.  Having his wrists cuffed together only slowed him a little 
as he undid Mulder's pants.  He noticed that his former partner had 
the steak knife, sheathed, tucked into the waistband along with his 
gun.  It excited him even more.

Alex ran his tongue along the vein on the underside of Mulder's 
already hard cock and grinned at the strangled sound it elicited.  As 
he played with it with his tongue and teeth, applying every trick he 
knew, he also stroked his partner's balls.  "Doo wop, shoo wop," 
Alex sang against the throbbing flesh at his lips.  Mulder, who was 
very vocally appreciative, writhed against him.  Alex briefly 
thought of being cruel, of toying with him as revenge for the 
similar trick earlier, but couldn't bear it.  He wanted this too much.

"Please," Mulder moaned as he stroked Alex's hair.

"You are here, so am I.
Maybe millions of people go by,
But they all disappear from view,
And I only have eyes for you..." the radio prompted.

Unable to wait any longer, Alex took him in deeply and sucked 
hard.  It thrilled the younger man to be here, draped across the 
front bench-style seat of a stolen car, hands clenched on a steak 
knife and cuffed together, mouth full of and intimate with a 
seriously disturbed and beautiful man who also happened to be one 
of his worst enemies.  //This is my life.  Don't you wish you were 
me?//

Mulder's body moved against Alex like the ocean as he came.  
Alex finished with a few long licks, then maneuvered himself onto 
the older man's lap and kissed him deeply.

"Escape?  Why would I want to do that when I have all this?" Alex 
brought up the knife.  His lover's eyes narrowed but showed no 
fear.  Fox might be able to disarm him anyway, even if Mulder 
couldn't.  But the younger man had something else in mind.  He 
managed to awkwardly slice a shallow wound across his wrist 
above the metal cuff.  The blood looked almost purple against his 
skin in the moonlight.  He carefully slid the knife toward the 
passenger door, out of reach.

He offered his wrist to Mulder, who looked at him with dilated 
eyes before setting his lips to the laceration and suckling.  Alex 
arched back against the steering wheel, barely retaining the 
presence of mind to avoid the horn, as his lover's expert tongue 
stroked along his skin and teased the wound.  He felt an incredible 
pull, as if all the blood in his body could be drawn out by the man 
beneath him.  

His pleasure only increased as he felt Mulder undo his jeans and 
start to fondle him.  Alex could swear he felt linen--soft, yet rough 
at the same time--caress his skin.  He managed to open his eyes to 
look down.  He saw that the hand that so inflamed him had been 
wrapped in a handkerchief, perhaps to keep things neat during the 
inevitable orgasm.  //This is some time to get fastidious, you 
lunatic.//  He started to laugh.  Then he could only moan as Mulder 
brought him off.

Exhausted but satisfied, Alex finally collapsed against Mulder and 
kissed him, enjoying the iron taste of his own blood on those lips.  
"Did you like that?" the younger man asked.  //I could get used to 
this.//

"Oh, yes," Mulder panted.  "You're beautiful." They spent a 
mindless but very enjoyable time afterward just kissing until the 
older man said, "We have to get going." He shifted Alex's legs up 
onto the passenger seat into a kind of side saddle position, then 
proceeded to start driving with the younger man still on his lap.  
Any inclination toward mischief got lost as the younger man 
slipped into a contented sleep, nuzzling at Mulder's neck as he 
drifted off.

******************************************************

//I was having one of my nightmares again, the one I could never 
quite remember the details of afterward.  Just bright lights, 
someone screaming my name, terror, paralysis, and failure.  But 
this time it had changed in the middle as I felt something start to 
stroke me.  I usually didn't get physical sensations in my dreams, 
but this felt so good I decided to just go with it, especially since it 
chased the nightmare away.

//I couldn't see my lover through the bright light, but the touch that 
brought me to life was expert, knowing.  The person stripped my 
pants off with slow sensuality.  I wanted to touch back, but even in 
the dream I couldn't move my arms.  Had I been cuffed so long in 
real life that I was starting to find it natural?

//My lover's tongue trailed down my chest until it wrapped around 
my cock.  After a few teasing flicks, a hot mouth drew it in, all the 
way in, and started to suck.  I whimpered and then moaned as slick 
fingers entered me and stroked along my prostate.  I hadn't had a 
man since college or wanted one, but you never forget...  My lover 
synchronized the sucking and thrusting, making me writhe from 
the double assault.

//I whimpered again as the mouth and fingers left just before I 
came.  His cock thrust in with a long, hard stroke that made me 
scream for more and brought me awake.  I opened my eyes on the 
most complete darkness I'd ever known.  It breathed and had a 
weight.  I couldn't see anything at all, only hear... and feel.  My 
traitorous body moved from the thrusts of the body covering me, 
forcing pleasure on me, making the chain of my cuffs jangle 
against the metal headboard.  It felt so damned good, and the terror 
only sharpened, heightened the experience.  I heard the harsh 
panting of my incubus, my unseen demon lover.

//It had to be Bobby.

//Lovely.  At least I was enjoying my own rape.  I had to get him 
off me, had to.  "No," I tried to say forcefully, but it came out as a 
moan, a teasing yes.  "No, please..." He was so good...  Please 
don't make me feel this...

//"Shh.  It's all right, Fox," he said in a husky voice that made me 
shiver.  "There's nothing to be afraid of."

//Stop.  Please stop.  Please don't.  Please.  Please don't stop... 

//I still couldn't see him.  I could only feel him moving against me 
and within me, sweat-slicked skin to skin.  Every slide further 
teased my cock, trapped between us.  My hands clenched and 
unclenched above the cuffs.  Pleasure sizzled along my nerves as 
he touched me in all the right ways.  How the hell did he know?  I 
fell over the edge screaming.  I felt his whole body shudder as he 
exploded into me.

//He kissed me and tousled my hair.  "You were so good, Fox.  
Feel better?"

//I wanted to scream at him.  For...  How many days?  Without 
sunlight or clocks or a TV I couldn't tell... for...  Forever he had 
kept me cuffed, waking and sleeping.  Watched me at all times 
when he wasn't telecommuting, at which point he cuffed me back 
to the headboard.  Hit me whenever I did something he didn't like, 
which seemed to be all the fucking time.  Called me "Fox" despite 
all my protests, which earned me more slaps.  Bathed and fed and 
dressed me like I was a baby.  Now this, raping me while I slept.  
Making me enjoy it...

//I wanted to scream.  It came out as "Guh."

//"Now I have to clean you up again.  I think you'll sleep better 
after this."  He kissed me, then walked to the bathroom.  When he 
turned on the light, it briefly revealed his silhouette before he 
closed the door behind him, leaving me in darkness again.  I heard 
the water start to run.

//He... he thought he was doing me a favor with this...//

Mulder awoke in bed next to Krycek, who sleepily turned over and 
asked what was wrong.  Mulder stroked his hair, told him it was 
nothing, checked the cuffs, and told him to go back to sleep.  Alex 
nuzzled his neck before dozing off.

Prior to today, Mulder hadn't had a man since Bobby.  No desire 
to.  He'd more than made up for the lack today.

The dreams and memories left him confused.  He couldn't decide 
how he felt about them.  The five months in a mental hospital 
hadn't cured him so much as taught him to tell the doctors what 
they wanted to hear and repress the memories so he could try to 
resume his former life.

So it wouldn't hurt so much after they'd executed Bobby.

Mulder repressed that and let sleep drag him back down again.

//I moved in rhythm with him, surrendering to his strength, to the 
pleasure he brought me.  "Why do I do this, Fox?" he asked with a 
teasing tone as a particularly thorough thrust made me gasp my 
appreciation.  He had no trouble talking and fucking at the same 
time.

//"You do it to maintain your connection to me.  You do it to show 
your power, to reaffirm your role as dominator," I gasped.

//"And why else?" He nibbled at one of my nipples just as his cock 
caressed my prostate again.

//I moaned.  "Because you love me."

//"You're such a good Fox.  And why do I still have you in 
handcuffs?"

//"Because it excites you.  Because, again, it keeps the power 
relationship a certain way.  Because it lets me escape 
responsibility, lets me enjoy whatever you do to me without guilt, 
because I'm helpless in your hands.  Because you love me."

//What sense I had left wanted to keep those handcuffs.  I didn't 
know what I would do if he took them off.  I would be forced to 
make a decision, and live with it.

//"Because they protect you," he said.  He did something to my 
cock that made my head explode.  He kissed me madly as he came, 
whispering, "Good Fox, lovely Fox..." I've never gotten so much 
praise in my life.

//For no reason, I started to cry.  I did that sometimes.  I hoped it 
wouldn't upset Bobby.  He didn't slap me as much as he used to, 
but tears could set him off.

//But Bobby was in one of his tender moods.  He stroked my face 
and said softly, "Don't cry, Fox, you've come so far already.  I 
know I'll be able to take the cuffs off you soon.  You're almost 
perfect."

//"Do you trust me yet?" I didn't know what I would say next until 
the words came out.  "I'll never leave you"

//The flash of his smile cut through the dimness.  I had gotten used 
to the murk of the house.  He kept it dark because sunlight could 
kill now.  People had so fucked up the environment that the sun, 
the source of all life, could kill you now.  So we lived in our own 
dim world, a carefully controlled environment, far away from the 
tainted, unreliable world outside.  Colors weren't a part of my life 
anymore, but I'd gained a greater appreciation for shapes.  People 
told me that I couldn't see the full range of colors, anyway.

//As Bobby lit my cigarette for me, I pondered the other parts of 
his philosophy I agreed with.  People were endlessly disappointing 
and treacherous, lying and destroying their way through their 
ephemeral lives.  So true.  People leave you.  That... was very true.

//Bobby didn't like it when people left him.  He killed them for it.  
Then he ate the organs to keep those people close to him forever 
and either dumped or embalmed the rest of the corpse.  He kept his 
favorites in the garage.

//I told myself that I did all this and agreed with him while I looked 
for a way out.  Bobby could be dangerously homicidal.  Duh.  But 
I hadn't really considered escape for a while.

//I had long ago given up on any rescue attempts being made.  
Everyone had to think I was dead by now. 

//My old life seemed so far away.  I didn't know how long it had 
been since Bobby had kidnapped me.  Time meant nothing in here.  
He treated me like a pampered child, took care of me in ways my 
family never had, praised me extravagantly when I was good...

//And that's all it took to make you his bitch?

//In some ways, I couldn't imagine going back to my old life.  I 
had no responsibilities here.  I didn't have to keep doing a job that 
ate me up inside, looking at mutilated bodies and crawling into the 
minds of maniacs.

//Now you live with one.  He has you broken and trained.  You're a 
textbook case.

//But he doesn't kill anymore, not since he brought me here.  He 
says that if I stay with him, he may never do it again.  He only 
killed out of despair and loneliness.  My presence here put an end 
to that.  Wasn't that worthwhile?  Such a small sacrifice to save 
lives.

//He says he loves me.

//"Hey, Fox, blow a smoke ring for me.  I know you can do it."

//I pursed my lips and shaped my tongue exactly the way he taught 
me and watched as a perfect ring flew out.  It drifted and flowed in 
the dimness before slowly breaking up into tiny wisps.

//That's beautiful, Fox!"//

Mulder woke up again feeling despondent and desperately horny.  
He turned to Alex and took one tender nipple in his mouth.  The 
younger man awoke with a smile, more than ready to go again.  
After a tempestuous bout of lovemaking, as Mulder started to fade 
out into sleep again, Alex asked him something and he answered 
without thinking.  It disturbed him on some deeply buried level, 
but he couldn't quite wrap his exhausted mind around it.

******************************************************

Mulder awoke to the ringing of his cell phone and reached over 
Alex's warm bulk to get it off the table.  "Fox," he said into it.  He 
only heard a strange hissing, then a click and nothing.

A bolt of terror shot through him.  He used *69 to find out what 
number the call came from and let it dial.

"Scully."

He sighed in relief.  "Mulder.  I just got the weirdest call from your 
number.  Some kind of interference."

"Everything's fine now.  Do you know if you lost those men yet?"

"I don't know yet.  I figure I'll stay here today just to make sure."

"All right." She then asked him a lot of questions about the car he 
saw and how many men he thought might be inside it.  It took a 
while with her interrupting every few minutes to ask another 
question.  Finally, she said, "Keep in touch and let me know, 
Mulder," before clicking off.

As Alex woke, he stretched and yawned like a satisfied cat.  His 
cuffs hit the headboard.  Grinning, he asked, "What's on the 
itinerary for today?"

"I give you a bath, dress you up, then cook and feed you breakfast, 
for starters."

"And some people have to pay for this kind of treatment."

******************************************************

At 1:00 Mulder heard the rush of a lot of cars coming up the dirt 
road.  He got out his gun and checked on his knife.  He smiled 
darkly as he remembered surprising his "rescuers" with it all those 
years ago.

"Give me a weapon so I can defend myself, Fox!" Alex said.  He 
still wore the cuffs.

"Wait, they're not Consortium, I see Scully with them." Mulder 
found himself loading his gun and stopped himself.  Was he going 
to shoot his own people?

//They're the enemy!  They're going to take you back!

//That's Scully!  My partner and friend.  Those are cops with her.  
She doesn't mean me any harm.

//Then why don't you ask yourself how and why she found you?//

When he turned to look, Alex had disappeared.  A killing rage 
overtook him.  //I know, Bobby; people are treacherous and 
endlessly disappointing.//  Mulder waited for a few minutes.  Alex 
still didn't come back.

//You broke your promise.  The next time I see you, you're dead.//

******************************************************

When Scully came up, Mulder asked her what the hell was going 
on.  He hadn't fooled her as well as he'd thought, because she had 
been suspicious of how he sounded on the phone and expected the 
worst.  She'd tricked him into calling her on his cell phone this 
morning so she could get a trace on him.  She seemed disappointed 
that nothing was wrong and even more disappointed when he told 
her that Krycek had escaped.

Mulder buried his Bobby-self again.  Once he got into the car with 
her, he didn't even feel the urge to smoke anymore.  But deep 
inside him something raged.  And waited.

******************************************************

Alex opened the folder his contact had brought him.  It hadn't been 
easy getting the Robert William McCain file.  It seemed that a lot 
of people would prefer the whole affair stayed buried.

Mulder had been moaning for Bobby in his sleep.  In the 
exhaustion and afterglow, the older man had just thoughtlessly 
answered Alex's question about who Bobby was.  "Bobby 
McCain, my lost love."

Alex felt a pang at the thought of how he'd run out on Mulder two 
days ago.  He didn't have a choice, not with more clear-headed 
members of the FBI at Mulder's doorstep, but still...  It certainly 
had been great while it lasted.  Alex would try to make it up to him 
someday.

Bobby McCain had been big news a few years back.  The cannibal 
killer who'd stalked the nights looking for a mate, killing and 
eating the ones who didn't measure up.  He'd cut a swath through 
four states.

Alex had always found it odd that the media never revealed the 
name of the profiler who helped bring McCain down.  Now he 
knew that the ISU had threatened and bribed everyone to keep 
things quiet and Mulder's reputation safe.  Alex could see what the 
media would have done with the real story.

Alex scanned through the file notes.  He read about the bodies, 
empty of all organs, that police occasionally found, then Mulder's 
kidnapping and two-week stay at Chez McCain.  It turned out that 
Mulder's mentor in the ISU never gave up on him and used 
Mulder's existing profile and his own talents to track the killer 
down to a house in South Orange, New Jersey.

Mulder didn't want to be rescued.  Gone seriously Stockholm, he'd 
used a knife to slash up five members of the rescue team.  Some 
investigators thought he might have lured two members of the 
team into the many traps the house had been equipped with.  No 
one knew for sure on the last suspicion.

Mulder spent five months in a mental ward, supposedly being 
deprogrammed.  McCain was extradited to a state with a death 
penalty, tried, found guilty, and executed.

Alex looked at the pictures attached to the file.  McCain had been 
darkly handsome.  He had pale skin, dark brown-black hair and 
eyes, and a high-boned, striking face.  The eyes compelled, 
suggesting danger and madness.  Alex felt a bolt of want flash 
through him.

But Bobby's Fox appealed to him even more.  A very pale Fox 
Mulder with fading bruises stared resentfully into the camera with 
rage-filled, madly green eyes.  He had blood splattered on his 
white T-shirt.

Now that Alex knew the specifics, he knew that Fox would want 
him dead for skipping out on him.  

That only added spice.  Alex had to have him.


**********************THE END***********************