Fandom: XF (M/K)

Rated NC-17 m/m sexual situations, bad words, violence, blah, blah, blah...

Web page: http://members.tripod.com/~ter_ma/aries/aries.htm

Summary: After A-VIII, the lovely Pat was pining for some good old
Muldertorture, and asked if in my next story, I could have Alex rescuing a
hurting Mulder from danger. Not sure if I hurt him enough for ya, hon, but I
hope you did get some satisfaction from it. Anyway, Mulder gets himself
involved in a hostage situation, and just when it looks as though things
could get *really* ugly, Alex steps in and saves him. Atta boy, Alex. And
now Mulder has gone from the frying pan and into the fire...so to speak.

Disclaimer: Mulder, Krycek, Scully, Skinner, and the Consortium belong to
CC...not that he deserves them. The rest are mine.

Props to Nic, Orithain and Sue for assorted squeaks, squeals and squidges.
And of course, the occasional threat. Big hugs to the lovely Pat for helping
me kick off yet another series...cause you know, that's *just* what I
needed...

Mmmmmm....feeedback....you can feed me at MMCUSN@aol.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not On My Watch

by Aries

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dana Scully turned over and burrowed deeper into the pile of blankets over
her body. That wasn't her doorbell she just heard. Couldn't be. It was still
dark for goodness sake, and who'd be at her door anyway, on a Saturday
morning besides...

The ringing sounded again.

...Mulder.

She opened one eye and attempted to focus it on the glowing red numbers on
her clock.

Five-twenty.

"Shit."

Scully dragged herself out of bed and trudged into the living room. She
peered through the peephole and groaned. This couldn't be good. She opened
the door and stepped aside, allowing her partner to enter.

"Mulder, I thought you were going to spend the weekend in bed and try o get
rid of that cold. And I assume that the reason you're here so early....on a
Saturday...has something if not everything to do with that folder you're
carrying."

"Sorry, Scully." Mulder walked over to the sofa and dropped down into the
right-hand corner of it. He opened up the folder and splayed its contents
out on the coffee table. He checked his watch, then proceeded to explain
himself. "Do you recall a case we investigated three years ago in Washington
State, where a man by the name of Roger Beals had convinced a large group of
inmates at a local Washington state hospital that he was an alien visitor
who had come to save a select few people before the whole world was
atomized?"

"Yeah. He was a guard at the hospital, right?"

Mulder nodded. "He helped them escape and got them to commit a number of
thefts before they were all rounded up and brought back."

"Right. He dodged local law enforcement for a while afterward. Killed a
deputy and a seventy-year-old woman, then disappeared. You figured out where
to find him, but none of the weapons or money that the inmates had stolen
were ever recovered."

"Well, guess what?"

"Do I want to know?"

"He escaped from prison three days ago, taking four buddies with him, and
six hostages they picked up along the way, and the police have tracked them
into the Olympic Mountain range."

"What's this got to do with us?"

"They've surrounded him in an abandoned vacation lodge. Apparently *that* is
where he had the weapons and money hidden all this time. They've taken
enough supplies with them to last a good long while, and their hostages
consist of three women, one man, an eleven-year-old boy, and a
three-year-old girl."

"Ohhh..."

"Yeah."

"What does he want?"

"Me."

"What?"

"*I* found him. *I* made him miss his *ship*..."

"You...you mean he really thinks he's an alien?"

"Apparently. And he's pissed."

"And dangerous. Mulder, I hope you don't think you're going to..."

"There's not a whole lot of choice, Scully. Do you want to hear what he's
threatening to do to those people and the children *before* he kills them?"

Scully gave no answer.

"Come on, get dressed. Our flight leaves in two hours."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Beals....*Beals*."

"What?"

"When are we gonna get outta here, man? These chicks are really starting to
get on my nerves with all their whimpering and whining. And all that baby
does is cry..."

"Patience, Leon. They'll come for us when I give the signal."

"Well, give it already!"

"Not yet. I have to settle my account with that fibbie who put me away,
first."

"Aww, how the hell do you even know he'll come?"

"He will."

"Maybe they're just stalling, you ever think of that? Trying to keep us
quiet until they can storm this joint..."

"Would you shut *up*? I know what I'm doing. You think they're gonna risk
the lives of these women and kids?"

"Who the fuck knows what's on their minds? What if they call your bluff?"

Beals gave him an unsettling, blank stare. "Who said I was bluffing?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Ford Explorer made its way slowly up the steep path, the deep treads of
the tires kicking out fresh snow as they turned. The three people inside
rode in silence, keeping all eyes on the road, or what could be seen of it
through the heavily falling blanket of white.

The radio crackled, startling the agents and drawing their attention.

"Base to Burton, where are ya, Mike?"

"Hey, Wes. We're about a half mile from you...at least I think we are.
Between the dark and the snow, it's kinda hard to tell."

"Well, ain't nothin' changed up here, so take it slow and we'll see you in a
few."

"Okay, Wes. Out." The deputy turned to the woman who sat beside him. "This
jerk picked a hell of a time of year to act up. Winter up here is no joke."

Scully nodded and looked back at her partner who had settled against the
back seat and closed his eyes. She cursed him silently, noting the paleness
to his skin. He should be home, taking care of himself. He'd been fighting
this cold for almost a week now, and it wasn't getting any better.

She shifted her attention away from her irritation and back to his face. His
eyes were still closed, but she knew better than to think he was resting.
She could hear that mind of his clicking away, analyzing and re-analyzing
the information he had on Roger Beals..reviewing his plan of action. And
though he gave nothing away, Scully knew trouble loomed. The scent of it
clung to him and she wished with all her heart that it would go away. Every
foot they gained toward the base, increased her anxiety.

The Explorer skidded, drawing Scully as well as Mulder out of their
thoughts.

"Sorry 'bout that," Burton winced, getting control of the wheel. "Hang on,
we'll be there in a minute. Those are the lights up ahead."

Mulder pulled himself up with a soft groan, and pitched forward. His eyes
scanned his surroundings, seeing nothing more than snow-covered darkness,
and a few pinpoints of light in the distance. "What's the terrain like
around here?"

"Runs the gamut. Rocky...dense forests...water...tough going for the
experienced, next to impossible if you're not familiar with the area.
Naturally, this weather only makes it worse. If we hadn't tracked Beals out
here, he'd have been able to hide out for as long as his supplies held out.
We gotta get him inside the lodge. He apparently knows his way around these
mountains, and if he flees..."

Mulder fell back into silence as they slowly approached the base camp.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wes Lawson stepped out of the command cabin and hitched his collar up a
little higher. He blinked and shielded his face against the driving snow,
searching for Mike Burton's vehicle. The headlights became visible, cutting
through the storm and bringing to the man watching them, a sense of
irrational relief that there *was* life out there...that he and the small
group of men inside the cabin *weren't* the only people out here on what
seemed like the edge of the earth.

The Explorer pulled up in front of the cabin, and idled to a stop. Burton
cut the engine, and he and his two companions climbed down out of the
vehicle, joining Wes Lawson in his slow trek back to the small wooden
structure. Once inside, the deputy did introductions.

Sheriff Wes Lawson, this Special Agent Mulder and Agent Scully." He pointed
at the other men in the room, one by one. "And these yahoos are Deputies
Jackson, Blumenthal, Smith, Ganon and Silva."

The agents nodded at the other men, and turned back to the sheriff. Mulder
jumped right in.

"What's the last contact you had with Beals?"

"About three hours ago. He wanted to know when you were coming. Said the
next voice he wanted to hear was yours, and if *we* tried to contact him,
one of the hostages was going to be a very unhappy camper."

"How did he sound?"

The sheriff cocked his head.

"His tone. Did he sound nervous? Agitated?"

"Umm...no. No, he was actually very calm. Soft spoken, even."

"Did he ask for anything?"

"Just you."

Scully turned away.

"Has he mentioned the hostages?"

"I tried asking, but he said that he wouldn't discuss anything with us until
you were here."

"Well," Mulder began, brushing some melting snow out of his hair, "I'm here.
Let's see what he's got to say."

Lawson nodded and turned to the radio. He switched bands, and raised the
handset to his mouth. "Beals? You out there?"

Silence.

He tried again. "Beals, this is Lawson, come on."

Nothing.

Mulder took the handset from the sheriff and held the button down. "Beals.
This is Agent Mulder. You wanted me, I'm here." Mulder sniffed and cleared
his throat, waiting almost a full minute before an answer crackled back at
him.

"You know, I had a dog once that would *never* come when I called for him. I
tried and I tried to teach him, but he just wouldn't learn. *You*, on the
other hand, came the first time I called. What a good boy."

"They got dogs up on your planet, Beals?"

Silence.

"Look, you've got some people up there who would really rather be in the
warmth of their own homes. Why don't you let them go? If you do, this'll go
a lot easier for you."

"Me? Thanks, Mulder, but this is going just fine for me. But it won't be
going too well for these nice people if you don't do what I say."

"What do you want, Beals?"

Scully's eyes widened. "Mulder," she whispered, "don't."

"You."

"You've got me. I flew across the country and drove up this damn mountain in
the middle of a blizzard because you wanted me here. Now let those people go
and we'll talk."

"No. No, no, no. I want to see you. You have to come up here. Then I'll
think about letting them go."

"Mulder," Scully grasped her partner's arm. "We cannot give this man what he
wants. You said it yourself. He's pissed at you. You walk in there, and I
can almost guarantee that we'll be carrying you out. And you *know* that he
isn't likely to let any of those people go. Let's please for once, do this
by the book."

Mulder listened to his partner, then again raised the handset. "Beals. Let
the two kids go now. We'll send two..."

"You want em? Come on up. I'll cut em loose as soon as you get here. You can
bring your partner up with you and she can take em back."

"I'll come up with one of the deputies."

"No. If I see even one of them, it's all off. I'll kill these little
monsters, then I'll go through the others one by...after we have a little
fun with them, of course. Now, I know you got that pretty partner with you.
You two always seemed to be joined at the hip. You know, if I had more time,
I'd tell you to bring her on up into the lodge with you and we could party.
Oh, well."

Mulder glanced at Scully, who was staring back at him, shaking her head
imploringly.

"I'm coming, Beals. But I don't set foot inside until you send the two kids
out and you allow Agent Scully to take them away."

"Hey, that's cool. No tricks, now. I don't want to tell you in mixed company
what one of my friends has been dying to do. See, the guy we got up here
ain't half bad looking, and poor J.T. is missing his bitch back home..."

A shudder ran through Scully, and she moaned softly. "Mulder....I'm not
kidding. You can't go up there. I've got a very bad feeling..."

Mulder held a hand up, attempting to shush his partner. "Look, you guys are
in enough trouble. Don't add any more charges to all the ones you've already
racked up." His only answer was a static-laden chuckle.

"You comin' or what?"

"Yeah. It's going to take a little while though. The snow is really coming
down out there."

"You have an hour."

The air went dead.

"Beals....Beals?" Mulder signed off and turned to his agitated partner.
"Scully, this guy *will* kill those people."

"Yes, I believe that too. But he's going to do it whether you go up there or
not. The only hope is to take him by surprise, and dammit, Mulder, if you're
up there, it'll just make things harder."

"Scully, if I don't go, he won't let the kids go."

"What makes you think..."

"He will. He knows I won't go into the lodge unless he does. If I can save
the children, I have to."

Scully closed her eyes and bowed her head.

"Agent Mulder, if you don't mind me saying so, I don't think you should give
in to him, either."

"I appreciate all the concern, Sheriff. Believe me, if I thought this could
be resolved from the warmth of this cabin, I wouldn't be going. Now, who's
going to take us up?"

All the men looked at their boss. Seeing that no objections were
forthcoming, Luis Silva stepped forward.

"I'll do it."

Mulder nodded, and turned to Lawson. "I need two vehicles."

"Two?"

"Yeah, you heard Beals. He doesn't want to see any deputies, but I don't
want Scully to have to drive back in this weather alone with two kids. Silva
can lead us up there and wait at a safe distance for her to come back down."

"Mulder," Scully tried again. "I *cannot* drive you up to that lodge and
just leave you there. We need a plan, we need..."

"And I'm counting on you to come up with one. I'll do my best to keep him
talking while you do that."

"But we've got no way to keep in touch. How will I know what's going on up
there? How will *you* know when we're coming in?"

Mulder smiled. "Turn on your E.S.P."

"Dammit, Mulder..."

Mulder laid a hand on Scully's goose down-covered shoulder. "I trust you to
get us all out of there in one piece. Now, let's go. Those kids are
waiting."

Scully followed her partner out, knowing that there was no way in hell that
she could change his mind once it was made up.

Lawson directed them to a tan Chevy Blazer and handed Mulder the keys. "It's
not far. Only about two miles straight up and to the right. You'll have to
walk in from the road about fifty yards. The front entrance faces the road."

"What about other entrances?"

"There's one on the north side of the building and two on the east. It's
three floors high, and there's a basement with an east exit. Used to be a
tunnel, but I heard it was cemented over years and years ago." Lawson
squinted up the road, then his gaze fell back on the man whose eyes he met
almost on a level. "Good luck, Agent Mulder. Don't take any unnecessary
chances."

"A little too late for that," Scully muttered, not looking at either man.

Mulder motioned to Scully, and walked around to the driver's side of the
vehicle. Both doors slammed shut, and Scully tried once more.

"Explain to me again, Mulder, why we have to rush headlong into this. The
man is unstable. He's a kidnapper, a killer, and God knows what else. He's
fixated on the notion that *you* prevented him from leaving the first time
and relegated him to three years in prison, and he'd like to make you pay
for that. So tell me why the hell you're walking right into his hands."

"How many times are you going to ask me this, Scully?"

"Well, since we'll be at the lodge soon, this'll probably be the last time.
I wish to hell you would give me an answer I could understand and agree
with."

"You mean to tell me that if it was you some nut was asking for, and he was
going to kill innocent children if you didn't go to him, you'd let it
happen?"

Scully bit her lower lip and looked out the passenger's side window at the
snow which seemed to have slowed a bit.

"I didn't think so. It'll be okay, Scully. Just get the kids to safety, then
work on the rest of us."

The vehicle in front of the Blazer began to slow down from it's near-crawl,
then stopped. An arm thrust itself out the window and waved them ahead.
Mulder pulled up beside Silva, and Scully rolled her window down. The deputy
pointed up the road. "A quarter mile straight ahead. Then look to the right
and you'll see the lodge. I'll wait here for Agent Scully."

Mulder nodded to the man. "Thanks. If she isn't back with the kids in a
reasonable amount of time, notify Lawson to take the place."

"Will do."

Mulder proceeded up the road, and just as Silva had instructed, stopped a
quarter of a mile up. He and Scully found the glowing lights of the lodge
off to the right, and he unfastened his seatbelt. He exited the vehicle, and
waited for his partner to hop down from the passenger's side. He handed
Scully his weapon, and she blanched.

"Mulder..."

"You know they're going to check me for it as soon as I come through the
door. Why make it harder on myself?"

Scully tucked the Sig Sauer into her jacket, and the two trudged toward the
lodge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on, Leon, you don't really think he's an alien, do you?"

"Shit, no. But letting him think I believed him got me out of the joint."

"Yeah, but now look where we are. You think they're gonna let us walk out of
here and go on our merry way?"

"The man's a flake, Ronnie, but he's smart. And he's determined. We'll get
out of here. And as soon as we're in the clear, we break."

Ronnie peered out the window. "I think Skeez and J.T. believe him."

"Yeah, think about that for a sec. Skeez says he talks to people at night in
his cell who aren't there, and J.T...I'm just glad that we nabbed a guy
along with those bitches. You know I found him licking the guy's face a
little while ago when I went to check on them? If he wasn't tied up, the man
would've dug through the wall to get away from him."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"I....hey....I think I see something. Yep. It's them."

Leon rose from his seat by the window. "I'll go tell Beals. Keep an eye on
them." The man slipped quickly out of the room and went off to find Beals.

Beals lay on the floor in the middle of the main dining room, stretched flat
out on his back, hands behind his head, and eyes closed. The slight shift in
air current alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone. His eyes
remained closed as he spoke. "What is it, Leon?"

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Have you got something to tell me?"

"Yeah. They're coming."

A slow smile spread across the prone man's face. "Goodie. Get the brats."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to the lodge opened, and Scully's heart attempted to climb up out
of her throat. She wanted desperately to hold on to her partner and not
allow this to happen, but it was beyond her now. The faces of the children
as they were led out of the lodge...the twelve year old boy, and more so,
the wide, frightened eyes of the three year old girl, clutched at her heart.
If Mulder didn't go through with this, these innocent babies would be
dragged back inside, and more than likely killed. She fought to maintain her
composure as Mulder took another step forward and spoke to the man in the
doorway.

"Okay, Beals. Let them go."

"Come closer, Agent Mulder."

Mulder took two steps and stopped. "Now. Let Agent Scully take them."

Beals smirked at Mulder, skimming the boy's cheek with his gun. He paused,
then released his hold. "Well, children, it's been lovely, but now you must
be going. The nice lady over there will take you with her." Before he
allowed the children to leave, he bent and gave the little girl a brief kiss
on her cheek. "You behave for Miss Scully, now."

The children were finally released, and Scully gathered both into her arms
as soon as they got close enough.

"All right now, Agent Scully. You've got what you came for. Shoo shoo. Agent
Mulder and I have some business to attend to."

Scully looked desperately to her partner. "Mulder..."

"It's all right, Scully. Get those kids back to their parents."

Beals grinned and stepped to the side of the door, motioning Mulder in with
a grand sweep of his arm.

Scully moved away slowly, watching her partner until he disappeared into the
lodge, and the door slammed shut. She now picked up the three year old, and
holding onto the boy's hand, made for the Blazer as quickly as she could
move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger Beals approached Mulder and stood smiling at him. "So. How ya been?"

Mulder shrugged as Leon searched him. "Ah, you know. Same old shit. Go to
work. Come home from work. Eat. Sleep."

"Yeah, well, the same old shit can be a comforting thing when you're home. I
could've been home three years ago, but noooo."

"Where *is* home?"

Beals planted one fist on his hip. "Would you tell me where *you* lived if I
asked you?"

"Well, I'm curious, you know? You say you're not of this...world. That
fascinates me. I'd like to hear more about it."

Beals raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you'll hear more, Agent Mulder." He motioned
Leon away, and in one blinding movement, struck Mulder across the jaw with
his weapon.

Mulder hit the floor with a loud thud. Blackness enveloped him for a moment,
then red, and finally shooting light, as consciousness fought to take hold.
A wavy figure squatted beside him, and he struggled to hear the slightly
slurred words.

"But you're going to hear what I *want* you to hear. Did you know that I was
pistol whipped quite often in prison? Oh, yeah, they *say* that the inmates
are treated fairly, but that's bullshit, in case you didn't know it." He
grazed the line of Mulder's nose with the barrel of the gun, then tapped his
cheek with it. "Get up."

Mulder lay still, trying to get his body to work in conjunction with his
head. When he was thinking clearly enough to register pain, he pulled
himself up and staggered to his feet.

Leon watched from a distance, wincing. He remained quiet as Beals circled
the wounded man.

"You want to hear about the other things they do in jail, Mulder? Huh? Sure
you do. Let's play show and tell..."

"Beals."

The circling man looked up at the man who had just entered the room. "Yeah,
Ronnie, what do you want?"

"It...it's J.T., man. He's all over the guy, and he's scaring the shit out
of the women. I tried to get him to leave him alone, but he won't."

Beals shook his head. "J.T., J.T...." He looked up at Mulder and smiled.
"Would you like to meet J.T., Agent Mulder? I'm sure he'd love to meet you."
Beals spun the teetering man around and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his
back pocket. "Hands behind your back." He attached the cuffs, then pushed
Mulder toward the hall. They climbed one flight of steps, then proceeded
halfway down the hall. Beals pulled Mulder to a stop in front of the doors
of a middle room, and listened to the frightened sobs within. He flung the
doors open, and pushed the cuffed man inside.

The three women sobbed hysterically and tried to huddle together as the man
called J.T. sprawled over the male hostage, biting and licking his shoulder
while grinding his hips into his thigh.

"C'mon baby, give it up. You know you like it..."

The man squirmed underneath J.T., struggling to get away. "Get *off* me!"
His voice crackled with fear. "*Please*..."

"J.T., get the hell off of him. Come on now, I got somebody for you to
meet."

J.T. ceased movement, and licked the side of the hostage's face before
slithering down and off of his body, leaving the man shaking and pale.
J.T.'s eyes lit up as they scoured the length of the body that swayed before
them. "Well, now. What have we here?"

"J.T., this is my friend Agent Mulder. Agent Mulder, this is J.T."

The man moved in for closer inspection. "Very pretty. What's your first
name, gorgeous?"

Beals snickered. "Fox."

"You're kidding."

"I kid you not."

J.T. observed the darkening bruise that ran along Mulder's jaw. "What
happened to your face, pretty Fox?"

Mulder lifted his chin a little and closed hs eyes. "Ask your buddy here."

"Agent Mulder and I were just starting a round of show and tell when I had
to come up here and see what you were doing to our hostages."

"I didn't touch any of the chicks, but damn, Beals, I miss my Trevor. We
should have brought him with us."

"Trevor was a wuss, J.T. He'd never have made it this far."

J.T.'s eyes slipped from Beals to the floor. "G-Dog is probably all over him
by now....I need to get me some, man."

Beals pushed against the back of Mulder's head with the tips of his fingers.
"See...in prison, this is what a lot of the men resort to. When I decide to
continue with our game, I'll let J.T. take you on a typical cell block
*date*. Oh, you ought to love that."

"Yeah," J.T. breathed against Mulder's cheek. "Mmm...damn, Beals, he smells
good. I want him soon, okay?"

"When I give the word."

"Give the word soon. If you do, I'll promise to leave that one alone." He
motioned with his head in the direction of the hostage.

"When I'm done with him, you can have him."

"Hey, uh...guys? Don't I get a say?" Mulder pitched forward, groaning as he
absorbed a blow to the ribs. He fell to his knees, hearing the renewed
whimpers of the frightened women as he felt something inside him crack.

"No, Agent Mulder, you do not. Just like you left me without a choice, now
it's your turn. Now, get up and come with me."

Mulder remained on his knees, gasping softly, and trying to manage the pain.
The kick just delivered to his ribs did nothing to help him. He doubled
over, groaning.

Beals grasped his newest hostage by the back of his collar, and yanked him
up. "I said, get up. He peered down at Mulder, studying the ashen face,
dotted with beads of perspiration. "What's wrong, Agent Mulder? Did that
hurt? Hurt like hell when the guards did it to me, I'll tell ya. But I gotta
give you credit. You're a better man than I am. I cried like a baby. Yeah,
that's right, I'm not ashamed to admit it. I cannot *stand* pain. I whimper
and whine like..." Beals pointed to the man curled up on the floor, "..like
that guy. Kind of embarrassing, really." He approached Mulder and rubbed the
barrel of his gun under the agent's chin. "See, I have to make you
understand that. You have to know first hand, the indignities I suffered
because of you. I was respected in my world. No one would have dared do to
me what those guards did. And I could have been back there if it wasn't for
you, you son of a bitch!"

Mulder spoke softly, measuring every labored breath. "I didn't tell you to
bust a bunch of psych patients out of a state hospital, make them commit a
bunch of crimes, then kill two people. You did that on your own. And that's
why you went to jail."

Beals smiled, then backhanded Mulder, amplifying the throbbing in his face.
"When I want your opinion, bitch, I'll give it to you."

J.T. watched the scene, squirming where he stood. "God, Rog, you can't do
this to me. Let me fuck him real quick, then you can have him back. I just
need to take the edge off...."

"No. Agent Mulder and I got more to *discuss* first. Then I promise, you can
have him."

Mulder stood, legs spread slightly, doing everything he could to keep his
balance. His jaw ached with a dull, relentless throb, and he was pretty sure
that he had cracked a rib or two. As welcoming as unconsciousness seemed to
him at the moment, he knew he had to stay alert. Scully would be working on
a plan to get them all out, and he had to keep his eyes and ears open.
Besides, the thought of J.T. doing the things to him that he was dying to
do, was more unpleasant than the intermittent beatings that Beals had been
dishing out. He moved as soon as Beals had placed a hand behind his back and
pushed him toward the door. The men split up in the hall, Beals, Mulder and
Leon going one way, and J.T. and Ronnie going in the other. J.T. called to
him as they disappeared from sight.

"I'll see you soon, pretty Fox. Then we're have gonna have us a party. Just
you and me..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The children slept soundly, safe and warm on two cots in the corner of the
cabin. Scully watched them, her mind wandering to her partner.

//My God, Mulder, I understand your reasons, but...// She inhaled deeply,
holding the breath for a long while before letting it out. //What's going on
up there? Just...hang on, okay? The cavalry is coming.//

Part of "the cavalry" arrived a couple of hours later. Agents from the state
office descended on the cabin, pushing the locals out of the way, and began
to set up their own equipment. Scully found the senior agent and introduced
herself.

"I'm Special Agent Scully. Thank you for getting up here so quickly."

The short, thin man in the rumpled suit shook her hand. "Agent Scully, I'm
Agent Miller. What have we got?"

"My partner is up in that lodge, being held with four civilians, by five
men. The leader, Roger Beals, is an unstable man who claims to be an alien.
He's a charismatic man who somehow manages to convince others of this as
well. Three years ago, he sprung a group of inmates from the state hospital
where he worked as a guard. He talked these people into committing a number
of crimes, mostly robberies. Money and arms were what he targeted. He killed
two people before Agent Mulder tracked him down. Prison information on the
other four are as follows..."

The other agents in the room gathered around to hear the information and
look at pictures of the targets.

"...Leon Glassman. Two bank robberies and aggravated assault. For the most
part, he's kept his nose clean while in prison until now. Umm...Ronnie
Wilson. Dealing. Possession...assault....Bill Roberts a.k.a. 'Skeez'. Second
degree murder. Psychotic. Holds lengthy conversation with no one. And John
'J.T.' Thomas. Aggravated assault, three rapes on young men, possession of
illegal firearms. These aren't boyscouts up there, guys, and they've got my
partner. No mistakes, all right?"

Miller laid a hand on her arm. "Don't worry, Agent Scully. We'll get your
partner and the others out alive. Has anyone tried contacting Beals since
Agent Mulder went up?"

"I tried once, but he wouldn't answer."

The other agent looked at the children in the corner. "What about them?"

"Their parents are on their way up. They should be here soon."

"Good. The fewer people in the way, the better."

"Well, we've got at least one more coming to the party."

"Who?"

"My boss. A.D. Skinner from D.C. I called to notify him of the latest
developments, and he insisted on coming."

Miller raised his eyebrows. "You know, I've heard a little about your
partner. He's supposed to be a brilliant profiler, if just a little bit
cracked..." he held up his hands. "No offense. I'm just repeating what I
heard."

"Agent Mulder is very good at what he does."

"Yeah, well he's gotta be something special to rate the personal attention
of the A.D. I could disappear up here and my boss'd never miss a beat."

Scully shifted from one foot to the other. She just couldn't shift her
attention enough to show the man any sympathy. "Yeah...well, uh...let's get
to work, shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder sat quietly in the corner of the dining room. His hands were still
cuffed behind his back, but he had now been divested of his jacket and two
outer shirts, leaving him in his jeans and undershirt. He shivered in the
chilled air of the large room, and let his head drop to his chest.

Sleep. All he wanted to do was sleep the pain away, but the little voice in
the back of his mind kept rousing him, telling him that he had to stay
awake.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room. All was quiet and the room
was empty except for himself and Ronnie. The other man must have felt
Mulder's eyes on him, because he spun from his post at the window and peered
into the dark corner.

"You awake, now?"

"Wasn't sleeping. Listen..." He paused to cough. "..Ronnie? That's your
name, right? You guys are in a lot of trouble, here. Kidnapping is no petty
crime. And if your friend J.T. there, touches that man, things'll be even
worse for you."

Ronnie approached. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"He wants you bad."

Mulder turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. "Beals has already
put you in deeper. Assault on a federal officer isn't a good thing. You let
J.T. r-rape...me, and I can pretty much guarantee that none of you will ever
see the light of day again..."

"Ronnie!"

Ronnie spun to his feet, meeting the angry gaze of the man who had just
entered the room. "Rog..."

"What are you doing?"

"I was just...just checking on him. He seems to be cold."

Beals leaned over the man propped up in the corner. "Is that right, Agent
Mulder? Are you cold?"

"It *is* a bit drafty in here."

"It was cold in the joint. Or hotter than hell...never a happy medium, you
know? Hey...let me tell you about the time some of the prisoners started
fires in their cells. The warden decided that rather than initiate a
lock-down, he'd turn us all out into the courtyard. It was cold that day,
man, and we had to hustle outside wearing nothing but whatever we happened
to have on at the time. We lay face down on the ground for an hour, while
they secured the inside. Can't tell you how many guys got sick."

"That's unfortunate."

"Yeah. For you, it is." Beals hauled Mulder to his feet, ignoring the soft
grunts, and pushed him out of the room. Ronnie followed close behind.

"Rog...hey, Rog, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to let my friend here experience what it was like that day, so he
can fully appreciate what we've been through." Beals dragged the back door
open, and pushed Mulder outside. The snow had slowed considerably, but the
wind had picked up, making it feel twenty degrees colder than it actually
was. The wind had drifted the snow away from the area around the door, and
Beals made Mulder lie face-down there on the bricked patio. "Now, isn't this
fun?" he asked, patting Mulder on the back. "Nice and cold, isn't it? Now,
we're gonna stay out here for an hour, Mulder. And then we'll..."

"Rog..."

"What?"

"When they did that to us, it wasn't nearly this cold. You can't leave him
out here that long. The man is obviously sick already. He'll *die*."

Beals considered the other man's words. "Well, I guess you're right about
that, Ronnie. I wouldn't want to kill him too soon. Still way too much fun
ahead of us. Okay, Mulder. Fifteen minutes. That should be long enough for
you to get the picture."

Ronnie covered his face with his hands, then began to massage his temples.
"Rog," he began evenly, "Rog, have you really thought this out? I know
you're pissed with the guy, but Jesus Christ, the trouble that we're gonna
be in if we're caught..."

"Don't sweat it, Ronnie. We will *not* be caught. We only need to hold out
for two more days, all right? Then we'll be outta here."

"They're...they're gonna come for us?"

"Yeah. So we gotta be ready."

//Jesus Christ, this guy's a fucking fruitcake.// "What about the hostages?"

Beals gave him an odd look. "They won't be coming with us."

Mulder lay shivering, listening to the conversation.

Ronnie.

Ronnie was the weak link. He had to keep at him. He had to talk to him as
often as he could. He needed someone else. Not that it would exactly even up
the sides, but it would be a start. He shifted slightly, feeling the
numbness begin in the parts of his body that touched the ground. Well, at
least it dulled the pain...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daylight.

Scully stepped outside and stretched. God, she was exhausted. They'd gone
all night without a word from Beals, and she was scared to death of what he
might be doing to her partner.

Partial relief came in the imposing form of A.D. Skinner, just stepping down
out of the Blazer that had carried Mulder into that maniac's clutches.

"Agent Scully," Skinner called as he approached, with two agents following
behind. His eyes narrowed on his agent's drained face. "Any more word?"

"No, sir. Agent Mulder said he would make every effort to contact me. That
he hasn't done so, has really got me worried."

"Agent Scully!"

Scully whirled in the direction of Mike Burton's voice.

"Beals is calling."

Scully and Skinner took off toward the cabin at a fast trot, plowing through
the knee-deep snow. They burst through the door, and Scully snatched up the
handset. "Beals?"

"Good morning, Agent Scully. How was your night?"

"Beals...I want to speak to Agent Mulder."

"Can't do that."

"Why not?"

"He's uh...asleep. You wouldn't want in interrupt pretty boy's beauty sleep,
would you?"

Scully released the button and spoke to Skinner. "If Mulder is asleep,
there's something wrong..."

"Agent Scully..."

"I'm here."

"Your partner easily susceptible to fevers?"

"*Dammit*!" She pressed the button. "Has he got a fever?"

"Mmmm, well, we spent a little time outside last night, and he wasn't
properly dressed, and I'm afraid that he does feel a little warm this
morning."

Scully heard the man stifle a snicker. "Listen, you son of a bitch..."

"Ah, ah, ah. Such language is quite unbecoming for a woman as lovely as
yourself."

"I need to see him, Beals. I'm a doctor. I can take care of him."

"Take care of him? Why would I want you to do that?"

"Because if he dies, so will you. I'll see to it myself!"

Skinner grasped Scully's arm, attempting to calm her down. "Agent
Scully...easy..."

"Tell them to clear the way, Agent Scully. I must be leaving here soon. If
you promise me safe passage, I'll leave him here for you."

Scully looked to Skinner. Gaining a nod of approval, she spoke into the
handset. "*Alive*, Beals. You leave him and all the others *alive*, and
we'll let you come through."

"Yes, yes, alive. I'll be in touch. I'm off now, to check in on my special
guest."

The air went dead, and Scully threw the handset down on the table. "I don't
trust him as far as I can throw him, sir."

"Neither do I, Scully. We need to get the upper hand on him, somehow. We
need an edge."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Word has just come down that the hostage situation in which Agent Mulder is
involved, has escalated. Agent Mulder is apparently not being treated well,
and if help doesn't reach him soon, he may die."

Smoke swirled through the room inhabited by roughly fifteen men. They looked
from one to the other in silence. Finally another voice sounded.

"Agent Mulder was once an asset to us. We all know that now, due to recent
events, he has turned into a liability. If this had happened two months ago,
I would elect to influence the outcome of this standoff. Now, I believe that
it would be best to let things travel along their natural course."

"This Beals person has been investigated. I don't believe that he will allow
Agent Mulder or any of the other hostages to walk out of there alive."

"So be it, then. If Agent Mulder dies, it will be to our benefit."

A tiny hiss sounded from the shadows, not loud enough for anyone to hear.
The hiss turned into a soft growl, then faded away, as did the undetected
presence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beads of sweat rolled down Mulder's face, and he shivered violently. God, he
felt like shit. Between the ache in his jaw, his ribs, and now what felt
like an internal heat to rival the flames of hell, he just wanted to close
his eyes and go to sleep. The thought that he might not wake up again was
the only thing that prevented him from doing so.

Leon entered the room, followed by Skeez, laughing and talking to no one in
particular. Leon squatted, and pulled Mulder up into a sitting position.
"Got some water for you." He held a small plastic cup up to the shivering
man's lips. Very thirsty, Mulder took a bigger sip than he should have, and
began to choke. Skeez giggled uncontrollably, and snatched the cup from
Leon's grip.

"Skeez, gimme that."

The other man teetered in front of Mulder, keeping the cup out of Leon's
grasp. "You want more? Huh, Foxy?" He giggled louder. "They said you don't
like that...Foxy...you know, as soon as I was old enough to pull it off, I
woulda killed my parents for stickin' me with a name like that..."

"Skeez..."

"So...more?"

Glazed hazel eyes peeked up at the man through a curtain of thick,
golden-brown lashes. Mulder said nothing.

"Aww, I'll give it to you anyway." With a flick of his wrist, the man
emptied the contents of the cup, and laughed hysterically as it dripped down
Mulder's face.

"You're such an asshole, you know that, Skeez? Now I gotta go get him some
more."

"What the hell for? Beals is gonna kill 'im anyway..."

"No he isn't. This fibbie is our ticket outta here. If he dies, they won't
give a fuck about us. We gotta keep him alive at least until we're free and
clear."

"Yeah? That what you're gonna tell Beals when he's ready to kill 'im?"

"Beals is as fruity as you are."

Skeez cackled, obviously amused.

"Now, you can go with him to wherever it is he thinks he's going, or you can
come with Ronnie and me."

"You mean you don't wanna leave this planet with us?"

Leon shook his head. "Uh...no. No, I kinda like it here."

"Suit yourself."

"Right. Now, come on. Gotta go get him some more water."

Skeez hopped up from his position on the floor, and bent over Mulder. "Be
back in a little while, Foxy. Don't go nowhere."

Mulder heard the door close, then open again almost immediately. Had he
dozed off between the time the two men had left and come back, or was this
someone else?"

"Morning, pretty Fox."

J.T.

//Shit.//

"I saw those other two losers leaving, so I thought I'd come in and see how
you were doing..." J.T. squatted in front of him, and traced the larger than
normal swell of his lips. "You're warm." He inhaled and exhaled audibly.
"Wonder how warm you are on the inside..."

Mulder turned his head, trying to escape the other man's touch.

"I bet you're *real* tight....or not. Pretty as you are, I can't imagine
that you wouldn't get lots of play from both sides of the fence." J.T. drew
his fingers down Mulder's chin, then the long column of his throat.
"Mmm....sweaty...slick..." He withdrew his hand and raised his fingers to
his lips. "Salty..."

"J.T., leave him alone."

The squatting man winked at Mulder, then rose to his feet. "What's your
problem, Leon?"

"You heard what Beals said. You're not to touch him until he says you can."

"I'm not doing anything. We're just getting acquainted, aren't we, pretty
Fox? I figured we could dispense with the conversation and foreplay now, so
we can just go straight to fucking, later."

"You're a sick motherfucker, you know that?"

"No, I believe *he's* sick. Tell Beals I want a piece of him before he up
and dies on me." J.T. nudged Mulder's crotch with the tip of his shoe. "I'll
be back, babe. Hang in there, okay?"

Leon watched the other man leave the room, then bent over, righting Mulder.
"Let's see if we can't get more of this in you than *on* you, now. Skeez
followed J.T. off, so we shouldn't have a problem."

Mulder managed to finish the water, then leaned back against the wall and
closed his eyes.

Leon studied him for a brief moment, then got up and walked silently away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scully sipped at a cup of coffee that easily resembled sludge. But it was
hot and it was strong, and that's exactly what she needed at the moment. She
walked up behind Skinner, who was looking out the window. "Sir?"

The A.D. turned and accepted the second cup she held. "What's he waiting
for?"

"I don't know. But Mulder's sick, and we have to get him out of there."

Skinner nodded, turning his attention back to the window. "We're going to
have to find a way to sneak someone in."

"There are five of them. It'll take more than just one person to handle all
of them."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lone figure picked its way through the woods. Covered in white, he
almost disappeared into the snowy background. The small bag he carried
swished softly against the nylon of his jacket, creating the only sound in
the gathering darkness. He stopped momentarily, checking his bearings, then
continued on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, let's go over this again." Agent Scully paced as she briefed the team
of three that they were about to send up to the lodge. "Stay low, stay in
contact, and keep your eyes peeled. The minute you think you've got a
window, take it."

The team leader nodded curtly. "Yes, ma'am. Try not to worry. We've never
missed a target."

"Well, let's just keep that perfect record intact, all right? Four civilians
and an ill federal agent are counting on you."

The men waited for night to fall completely, before advancing up the
mountain. Scully, Skinner, and Sheriff Lawson watched them until they could
no longer see. As they returned to the cabin, Skinner laid a reassuring hand
on Scully's shoulder. "They're the best we've got, Scully. They'll get him
out."

"I know, sir. But will they get him out alive?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beals' laughter echoed around the empty room. "You are a real tough guy, you
know that, Agent Mulder? I love it." He lifted Mulder's head, studying the
rapidly blackening eye. "Well....not too pretty any more, but at this point,
I don't think that J.T.'ll much care. He's about ready to climb the
walls....hey! J.T., I was just talking about you."

"Yeah? What about?"

"I was just telling our friend here, that I'm through with him. He's all
yours."

J.T. was practically salivating. "Ohhhh, yes. Come on, baby. You and me are
gonna have some fun..."

"Listen, you don't have to move him. I'll go. You can have the dining room."

"Uh uh. I want him upstairs. Want that other bitch to see what he's
missing."

Beals laughed softly. "You really are a sick bastard. Okay, take him."

J.T. hauled the barely conscious man to his feet, bearing almost all of his
weight. "I think I'm gonna need some help getting him upstairs, Rog."

"Okay, okay, let's hurry up, though. I got some last minute prepping to do
before we leave tomorrow."

The two men lifted Mulder and dragged him out into the hall, where Ronnie
was just passing into.

"Hey...what are you guys doing with him?"

J.T. have him a demonic grin. "My turn."

"C'mon, guys. Do you have to? The guy's so sick and in so much pain, he
can't even stand up."

"Shut up, Ronnie, and get back to your post."

Ronnie gave the limp man a sympathetic look, and deciding that it was better
Mulder than him, obeyed Beals' order, and went back down to the first floor.

The two men carried Mulder up to the room where the other hostages were
kept, and laid him out on the floor.

"Okay, bitch," J.T. sneered at the male hostage, "let me show you what you
*could* have had..."

The women began to cry, and the man closed his eyes and turned his head away
as J.T. stretched out on the floor beside Mulder, and began to gently stroke
his damp hair, then his stubbled cheek. "Come on, pretty Fox. Wake up.
This'll be a lot more fun if you're conscious."

For the first time, one of the women made her presence known.

"Why don't you leave him alone, you animal? Can't you see the man is sick?"

Beals raised his hand, sending the three women scurrying against each other.
They huddled tightly, crying and whimpering.

"Shut up, bitch. Nobody asked your opinion. J.T., have a good time. I got
some stuff I need to do. When you're done with him, let me know."

J.T. winked at the retreating man. "That may be a while, pal." He turned
back to the man beside him, unbuttoning his shirt. "A long, long time..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man quickly and quietly popped out a basement window. He stuffed his
tools back into his bag, and slipped into the lodge. The basement was dark,
but dry. He turned on his flashlight and searched the room. Empty, except
for a few pieces of covered furniture. No exits other than the steps leading
up to the main floor and the bulkhead on the opposite wall.

Wall...wall...the wall.

He approached the west wall and studied it. He touched the cement, and found
that the blocks were loose.

Hmm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J.T. pulled the edges of Mulder's shirt away from his body, then ran a hand
over his chest. He paused on each cotton-covered nipple, teasing them with
the tips of his fingers. The unconscious man's body responded, puckering and
tightening the small brown nubs.

"Well, I guess we can do this with or without your full participation." He
leaned down, and brushed the swollen lips with his own. "It'll still be
good."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The team of three approached the lodge. They took up position, and trained
their night vision glasses on the structure.

"Two to team leader. I got one on the first floor...he's...he's moving
around erratically. Like he's on something. I don't see anyone else,
though."

"Okay, two. I've got two here on the east side. They seem to be talking to
each other. No sign of hostages. How about you, three?"

"Sorry, I got nothing. Every room that I can see is empty."

"Okay, so that's two unaccounted for. I'll call it in to base, and see what
they want us to do. Just sit tight."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man crept through the darkened halls, all but invisible. His finely
tuned hearing detected nothing on the first floor. He was about to find the
stairs, when a sound did catch his ear.

Five doors down, and to the left.

He drifted to the door, and listened. Someone was inside. He determined that
it had to have been one of the kidnappers, and with a quick breath, he
opened the door.

The man dancing around, singing to himself, didn't notice at first that he
was no longer alone. When he whirled around, he caught sight of the man in
the doorway. He peered into the darkness, and by the time he realized that
it wasn't one of his friends standing there, he was hitting the floor with
two silenced bullets in his chest. The blood gurgled up in his throat, and
seconds later, he was dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What the...team leader, this is three. The man I've had in my sights has
just dropped to the floor. There was another...I think, I can't be sure. I
was too busy watching the other guy...Peter, I think he's dead."

The team leader listened, frowning. "Shit, two. Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. Pete, something weird is going on, here."

"Okay, just sit tight a minute." The leader changed channels, and radioed
the base.

Scully dove for the radio, answering the excited call.

"What do you mean, one of the kidnappers is dead?"

"That's the report, Ma'am.'

"Who the hell killed him?"

"Don't know. One of the others, maybe? Wait...hold on....shit! The two I've
had my eye on have just gone down. There was a series of flashes, and they
hit the deck. They aren't getting up, either."

Skinner snatched the handset from Scully. "Get in there! Now!"

"Yes, sir!"

The air went dead, and Scully turned to the A.D. "What hell could be going
on? Mulder, maybe?"

"I don't know. But it's time to find out."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leon Glassman and Ronnie Wilson lay in a pool of their own blood, their
bodies full of holes. Without so much as a backward glance, the man slipped
out of the room, in search of his last two targets.

Before he found Roger Beals, the man happened upon a room where frantic
whimpering could be heard.

Females.

He supposed he'd found the hostages.

What to do, what to do...ah, shit, he guessed he'd have to go in. He
couldn't leave them there, and besides, maybe one or both of the other two
were in here. Maybe Mulder was here.

He took a few quick breaths and opened the door. The sight that greeted him
made his blood run cold, then caused it to boil up in his veins.

J.T. Thomas looked up and over to the door. He pulled his hand out of the
unconscious agent's unzipped jeans, and snarled as he began to stand. "Who
the fuck are you?"

The other man snarled back. "Someone you *never* wanted to meet."

"How'd you get in here?"

"Makes no difference. Step away from him."

J.T. squinted, appraising the man who stood before him. "You ain't law."

"No. And that's unfortunate for you. Now, step...away."

"Why should I?"

"Because I don't want to splatter him or any of these people with your
blood."

J.T. laughed. "I'm gonna rip your fuckin' head off, asshole, then I'm gonna
come back over here and fuck this man to death."

A low, menacing growl reverberated throughout the room. "Yeah? Well, come
on, then."

J.T. lunged at the man who stepped quickly aside and cuffed him on the back
of his head with the butt of his weapon. He hit the floor with a heavy thud,
and as he was attempting to get back up, the other man was on him, holding
him face down on the floor.

"What did you do to him? Did you rape him, you fucking dirtbag?"

J.T. struggled against the weight that held him down. "What's...what's it to
you, prick? Why do you need to know?"

Alex Krycek lowered his head to whisper in the other man's ear. "Because
he's mine."

A loud snap drew the attention of the others in the room, and J.T. Thomas'
head hit the floor. The women began to scream as his lifeless eyes stared
out at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beals' head snapped up. "Aww, shit." The bloodcurdling screams sent him
running up to the second floor. As he burst through the door, the cock of a
gun behind him, got his attention.

"Turn around, motherfucker."

Beals turned slowly, meeting the fierce green gaze of a man he did not
recognize. "Who the hell are you?"

Alex answered his question with a question. "Did you do that to him?" He
motioned in the direction of the wounded and feverish Mulder. "*Did you*?"

"Who the fuck are you that I should answer your questions?"

"I'm the guy who's gonna kill you. Now, would you like to cleanse your
conscience before I shoot your head full of holes?"

Beals smiled. "Okay, sure. I did it. I did it all. He deserved it, the
fucker. He put me away. I could've gone home. They were waiting for me,
before the feds caught me, and it's *his* fault. ..I could've gone home..."

"Well, tell you what. I'm gonna send you home."

Beals cocked his head, momentarily confused. Studying the look in the other
man's eyes, he suddenly understood.

"Cover your ears, ladies..."

Two shots rang out, and the women began to scream again. They watched the
dark figure stand over the man who lay dead on the floor, and pump three
more shots into his body.

"Bon voyage, motherfucker." Alex turned to the four people hunched against
the wall. The man squeezed his eyes shut, and the women began to cry
frantically. "Shh. Shh, shh. Quiet. Listen, I'm not gonna hurt any of you.
The feds should be here, soon, and you can all go home."

One of the women found the courage to speak up. "What...what about him?" She
motioned toward the unconscious man.

Alex squatted beside Mulder, touching the palm of his hand to the
perspiration-covered forehead. "I'm going to take care of him." He stroked
Mulder's face gently. "Mulder....Mulder, can you hear me?"

A tiny sound left Mulder's lips, but he did not open his eyes.

"Mulder, come on. I've got to get you out of here."

"Wouldn't it be best to leave him here and wait for help?"

The shadowed face looked up in the man's direction. "I'm his help." Those
were the last words he said. He looked around the room, and finding a
blanket draped across a chair by the window, snatched it up and wrapped
Mulder in it. He then hoisted the man in his arms, grunting with the effort
it took, and slowly carried him out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scully, the A.D., and a dozen more officers plowed toward the lodge,
following in the tracks left by the team. They made it inside, and found
that the team had already breached the structure. The team leader found them
on the first floor, and he approached to give his report.

"The hostages are fine, sir. A little battered, but all right. All five
kidnappers are dead. Four shot to death, one has had his neck broken."

Scully's eyes widened. "Agent Mulder...where is he?"

"We don't...we don't know, ma'am." His head snapped around in response to
the booming baritone that came from Scully's side.

"What the hell do you mean, you don't know?"

"We can't find him, sir."

Scully blew past the men. "He's *got* to be here! What about the shooter?"

"No sign of anyone, ma'am."

"This is ridiculous. How could someone get in here, kill five men, then
disappear? Have you spoken to the hostages?"

"No, ma'am. I..."

"Where are they?"

The leader turned back to Skinner. "Second floor, sir."

Skinner hurried to catch up to Scully, who had already started for the
stairs. They reached the second floor and went directly to the room that
three officers were already outside of. Inside they found three women and a
man, clinging together, sipping coffee from styrofoam cups. They approached
cautiously, and showed their badges to the group.

"Is everyone all right?"

The man nodded. "Yeah. We could be worse."

"Tell us about the federal agent that was here. We can't find him. Do you
know what they did with him?"

One of the women spoke up. "He...he was here until a little while ago."

"What happened to him?"

"A man...a man came. He saved Mr. Mulder's life. He saved all of us. He
killed them. And he carried Mr. Mulder out."

Scully shook her head, completely confused. "Carried him where?"

"Don't know. He said he'd take care of him and took him."

"You said he carried him out..."

"Yeah."

"Agent Mulder was injured?"

The woman nodded. "They beat him up...well, Beals did. He kept favoring his
right side. I think he might have some broken ribs. And his face was all
bruised on one side. He was running a temp, and was in and out of
consciousness. The other one...J.T....he was about to....to..." The woman
stopped, visibly shaken.

"What was he about to do, ma'am?" Skinner asked gently.

"He was going to...rape him."

Scully closed her eyes and turned away.

"But that man...he came in just in time. I couldn't see his face really,
none of us could...it was pretty dark, but his voice...he was very angry
when he saw what they'd done to Mr. Mulder. He killed J.T. Just snapped his
neck. We started to scream, I guess, and Beals came in a little while after.
He hid, and caught Beals by surprise. They exchanged a few words, then the
man killed him. Fired a couple of shots, dropped him, then shot him a few
more times. He told us not to worry, then he covered Mr. Mulder with a
blanket, and carried him out."

"And you can't tell us...you can't give us any description at all?"

All three women shook their heads.

"He was tall," the man spoke up. "Maybe a little taller than you," he nodded
at Skinner. "Hard to tell from the clothes, but I don't think he was as
heavily built. I think his hair was dark. His voice...it was low. Gravelly,
almost. That's all I can tell you."

"Thank you." Skinner turned away from the group and aimed an intense stare
at Scully. "Doesn't help much, does it?" he asked in a confidential tone.

"No." Scully stared at a point just beyond the A.D.

"I'm going to put out an A.P.B....have roadblocks set up. Whoever it is that
took Mulder, he won't get very far."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The white Range Rover made its way down the almost deserted highway. The
driver said a prayer of thanks that the roads were clear, as he drove on
through the darkness. He looked down at the man reclining in the seat beside
him. Pale, and lapsing in and out of consciousness, Mulder had no idea of
where he was or who he was with. Alex took one hand off of the wheel, and
felt the other man's forehead. Still very warm. He felt the chill keenly,
but kept the vehicle cool, for the sake of his passenger. His hand slid down
the side of Mulder's face, then rested gently on his cheek. He allowed his
thumb to sweep back and forth, feeling the rasp of stubble underneath. He
risked a glance at his silent companion. "You're gonna be fine, Mulder. I
won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Alex turned his attention to the road, reviewing the events of the past few
hours.

God, they'd just about made it out of there before the feds came in. Mulder
was too heavy to carry the whole way, and fortunately, Alex didn't have to
try. All the jostling had roused Mulder sufficiently enough to get him
moving under his own power. Granted, the going was a lot slower than Alex
would have liked, but at least he didn't have to throw his back out, getting
the agent to his vehicle. Only yards away from the Range Rover, the terrain
had become a bit rough, and Mulder fell, groaning in pain as he held on to
his right side. At that point, Alex lifted him again in his arms, and
carried him the rest of the way, making a mental note to check for possible
trauma to Mulder's torso.

Once he was securely in the passenger's seat, Mulder again lapsed into
unconsciousness, and Alex reclined the seat to make him a bit more
comfortable. He picked his way through the woods, constantly checking for
company. As he finally made his way out onto the highway, there was still no
one around. Not one to question good luck, he moved quickly along, making
his way toward Oregon.

And now they were moving along at a decent pace, seemingly alone in the
cold, dark world.

Alex listened to the scanner he'd brought along, trying to pick up any news.
From what he could hear, he was way past the danger zone, and he allowed
himself to relax a bit. He pulled over onto the side of the road for a
minute, and pulled out a squeeze bottle full of water. He turned in his
seat, and slipped an arm under Mulder's neck.

"Mulder....Mulder?"

Mulder moaned softly.

"Time for some water. Come on." He held the bottle to the flushed lips and
watched as they began to move, suckling clumsily at the tip. He pulled the
bottle away, and comforted Mulder softly as he moaned his protest. "Just a
little at a time. I don't want you to choke." He again placed the bottle at
Mulder's lips, and watched the older man's mouth...that outrageously
beautiful mouth, wrap around the bottle and pull at the tip. He closed his
eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to head off the massive erection he felt
begin in his jeans.

//Sick bastard. Come on, the man's completely out of it. Christ, he's gotta
be, or he'd never be lying here so passively letting *you* take care of
him.//

Alex allowed Mulder a little more water, then settled him back into a
comfortable position. He brushed the older man's hair back off of his face,
then forced himself to pull back onto the road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Nothing?"

"No, not yet. With the snow picking up again, it's covered any tracks that
may have been made."

"But, my *God*. How can a man...*two* men just disappear like that?"

"He may be hiding in the area. It would explain how he vanished so quickly
with a sick man." Skinner heaved a long breath. "So, the search is
concentrated on the mountains and surrounding areas, though a state to state
A.P.B. has been put out."

"Going to be hard, not knowing what kind of vehicle this person was
driving...if any."

"I know it isn't going to be easy, but we'll find him, Scully. We won't give
up until we do."

"Yes, sir. I just hope we find him alive."

"Look, Scully, whoever this person is who took him, killed five men to do
so, and risked being caught by us. Anyone who would go to that much trouble,
is not a person who is looking to hurt Agent Mulder or let him die."

"I'd like to believe that sir, but if they meant him no harm, then why
didn't they just leave him there so we could find and take care of him?
Agent Mulder and I have run across some real nut cases in our time together,
any one of whom might have it in their warped minds to finish what Beals and
his friends started."

Skinner fell silent, considering Scully's words. He tilted his head back,
staring up at the ceiling of the cabin. "Well. Let's just hope that isn't
the case."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex pulled around to the back of the cabin, and killed the motor. He exited
the driver's side, and quickly moved to the other door, yanking it open and
pulling Mulder from his seat. He half-walked, half-carried the older man to
the door. He held Mulder to his body as he fumbled for the keys, then
unlocked the door. "Okay, Mulder," he panted as he moved the softly
complaining agent to the sofa that sat in the corner of the large room, "no
more moving around, okay?" He settled Mulder into a reclining position, then
straightened his back. "I have to go out to the car to get the stuff." He
leaned over the perspiring man, and caressed his warm forehead. "You rest,
and I'll be back in a few."

True to his word, Alex reappeared minutes later, having emptied the vehicle
of all its contents. He sat at the edge of the sofa, and carefully unwrapped
Mulder from the blanket. "Okay, let's see what we've got here." He gently
lifted the t-shirt, and grimaced at the black and blue marks on the skin
that stretched over Mulder's ribs. He gingerly pressed on the area, gauging
Mulder's responses, and determining that the injury wasn't as bad as it
could have been. "All right, Mulder, look...I'm going to have to bandage you
up. It'll hurt at first, but when it's done, you'll feel a lot better."

Alex retrieved the necessary supplies from his first aid bag, and began the
arduous process of bandaging Mulder's ribs. He winced through most of it,
apologizing with every gasp from the other man. Finally, it was done. He
breathed a sigh of relief as Mulder settled down and drifted back into
sleep, then tended to his facial wounds. His job complete, Alex sat back and
studied him. Anger bubbled up in his chest as he allowed the reality of what
had been done, to finally sink in. "Motherfuckin' bastards," he whispered.
"Wish I'd had the time to kill them right." He reached out, stroking the
golden-brown hair, then reluctantly pulled the hand away, curling it into a
fist, and dropping it into his lap.

//This is the most insane thing you've ever done, you know that, Alex? What
the hell makes you think that you're going to be able to make him see you
the way the you want him to?//

"Well," he sighed softly, "nothing ventured, nothing gained."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This can't be, it can't..." Scully paced the floor of the sheriff's office.
"He can't have just disappeared."

Sheriff Lawson followed her with his eyes. "Agent Scully, there are men all
up and down that range. If he's there, we'll find him. The road blocks have
turned up nothing..."

"What if the person who took him got through *before* the road blocks went
up?"

"It's possible, I suppose, but the Assistant Director put the A.P.B. out
quickly."

"Yes, quickly, but we'd already been in the lodge a little while before we
realized what had happened. Whoever it was had time enough to get Mulder out
of there and be on his way. They could be anywhere."

"I'm sorry, Agent Scully. All I can do is tell you that we'll keep looking."

"I know everyone is doing their best, Sheriff. I appreciate all your
efforts."

"Will you be going back to D.C.?"

"I can't. I have to stay here and help search."

"A.D. Skinner returned?"

"Yes, he flew out this morning. He dropped everything to come out here, but
there were matters that he couldn't continue to neglect He'll keep in
touch."

"Look, it's getting late. You've been in and out of here all day. Have you
eaten?"

Scully thought about the question, honestly unsure of whether or not she'd
had anything. "I don't...I don't think so."

"Well, come on. Let me buy you some dinner."

"Thank you, sheriff, but I'm really not hungry."

"You've got to eat. You'll be of no use to your partner if you don't keep
your strength up."

Scully stared at Lawson's desk, saying nothing.

"Can I take your silence as a 'maybe', at least?"

Scully looked up and tried to give the man a friendly smile. "Don't you have
a family you should be getting home to?"

"Just my cat. And she doesn't care what time I come in, so long as there's
food in her dish. Now, come on."

"All right, I guess I should put something in my stomach," Scully admitted.
She followed the man out of his office and out to his vehicle.

The first half of the drive was a relatively silent one, until Lawson
decided that he could stand the quiet no more.

"How um...how long have you and Agent Mulder been partners?"

"Six years, give or take a few months."

Lawson nodded. "You're close...well, of course you would be. You can't help
but be, working together day after day. Are either of you married or in a
steady relationship?"

Scully shot the sheriff a curious glance, but decided to answer the
question. "No."

Lawson gave her an apologetic grin. "Sorry, but I tend to be kinda nosy.
Relationships within a law enforcement partnership interest me. Blame it on
the psych courses I've been taking. The department offered them last year,
and I figured what the hell? I thought it was just gonna be criminal
psychology, but when I got into the class, I found out that they were also
going to be delving into the partner dynamic. Interesting stuff."

"Yes, it can be."

"Your partner must be fascinating to work with. I heard from some of the
agents that he's supposed to be some kind of profiling genius or something?"

Scully hesitated, watching the trees and houses pass by. Then she spoke up.
"He's amazing. I've never known him to be wrong. It's eerie, almost."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Fox Mulder in full profiling mode is a thing to behold."

"You admire him."

"Very much."

//I should tell him that sometime...if I ever get the chance. God, Mulder,
where are you?//

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex sat on the floor, his back to the arm of the sofa, reading. An almost
inaudible sound drew his attention away from his book. He twisted his body
so that he could get a better look at the sleeping man. He raised his hand
to Mulder's face, smiling when he felt that the skin beneath his fingers was
not as hot as it had been throughout the day.

He'd pumped Mulder full of fluids every chance he got, and administered
fever reducers, and now it seemed as though his work might be paying off.
Mulder slept through most of the day, but even when he seemed to be
conscious, he remained pretty well out of it, not knowing where he was, or
recognizing the man who was caring for him.

Alex's fingers slipped into the golden-brown strands on the left side of
Mulder's head, combing gently through them. The sleeping man sighed softly,
and turned his face ever so slightly into the touch.

//God, if he opened his eyes right now, what the hell would you do?//

Alex moved his hand away, letting it first slip over Mulder's cheekbone,
then down his jaw. He licked his lower lip absently as the older man turned
his face further to the left, groaning in protest to the loss of warmth.
Unable to help himself, he returned his hand to Mulder's face, tenderly
caressing his cheek. The action seemed to pacify the other man, and he
settled back into a peaceful sleep.

If he tried really hard...if he blocked out the fact that Mulder despised
him and would want to kill him dead when he finally realized what was going
on, he could lose himself in this moment. He could touch Mulder and imagine
that the touch was welcome...even needed. He could see those incredible eyes
open and look on him, radiating an emotion other than hate.

Telling himself he really, *really* shouldn't, he lay his head down on the
sofa beside Mulder's, and closed his eyes.

//Ohhh, yes...//

He'd imagined this...wanted it for so long....just to be close to him. Smell
him. Listen to him breathing...

//Suck it up, Alex, because once he's fully awake, it's all done. And so are
you.//

//Maybe not. He might just surprise you.//

//Oh, ya think? Come down off of that cloud, you jerk.//

//Well, why'd you go through all this if you're gonna be so damn negative?
Why didn't you just leave him there for Scully?"

//How could I? How could I look at him lying there like that and just walk
away?//

//If you were smart, you would have.//

//Tired of always doing the *smart* thing. I want to just follow my feelings
for once.//

//No matter how much trouble they get you into?//

Alex opened his eyes and studied the face so close to his...admiring the
sweep of golden-brown eyelashes. His gaze dropped down to that mouth
scrunched into an irresistible pout, and he answered himself.

//Just this once, yeah.//

He brushed Mulder's chin with his fingertips, then rose from the floor and
went off to the kitchen for something to eat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scully waved to Sheriff Lawson, then disappeared inside her motel room. She
discarded her outer clothing, withdrew her cell phone from her jacket
pocket, and plugged it into the recharger. Just now realizing the extent of
her exhaustion, she dropped down onto the bed, massaging her temples.

Sheriff Lawson was a very nice man, and she appreciated the fact that he was
concerned enough about her to take her out and make her eat, but there was
no way he could fully appreciate this situation, despite what he'd learned
in his psych classes. She and Mulder shared a closeness that she doubted
many other partners did. He was her very best friend...her
confidante...family. And if anything had happened to him, she honestly
didn't know how she could handle it.

She fought to suppress the rush of emotion, telling herself that falling
apart would get her exactly nowhere. Snatching up the motel phone, she
quickly punched in a group of numbers, then waited for an answer.

"Hi, Mom. It's me....hmm? Yeah, uh...yeah, I'm in Washington state. Yeah, a
case. No, it isn't...it isn't going well at all.....God, Mom, everything is
wrong....it's Mulder..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex opened his eyes and noticed that it was no longer dark. The sun wasn't
exactly shining brightly, but it was obviously no longer night time. He
lifted his wrist, focusing on his watch.

//Seven thirty-six.//

He stretched within the confines of the sleeping bag that he was wrapped in.
He unzipped the bag, and lifted himself to check on the man on the bed.

Still asleep. At least he looked more comfortable here in bed than he did on
the couch.

Alex had carried Mulder into the bedroom at about ten last night,
encountering only a small amount of complaints from the other man as he
moved him. As soon as he was comfortable, Alex laid the sleeping bag out on
the floor beside the bed, and crawled into it. More exhausted than he
thought he was, he fell asleep almost immediately. He woke twice during the
night to check Mulder's temperature and make sure that he was comfortable,
but drifted off again, directly after.

He stood by the bed, noticing that the other man's color had improved,
though his respiration still seemed a bit harsh and uneven.

Alex watched warily as Mulder shifted. The older man winced and groaned
softly, then his eyes began to flutter.

"Oww...oh, shit..." Mulder inhaled and grimaced. His hand went to his side,
feeling the bandage. The next thing he noticed was that he was lying in a
bed.

//Oh, thank God.//

"Scully?"

Alex took a deep breath and released it. "Not exactly."

Mulder's brow wrinkled into a frown. His head turned to the right, stopping
when a pair of bright green eyes came into view. He closed his eyes again,
just knowing that he was dreaming. When his eyes fluttered open, the eyes
were still there...set in the face he knew so well.

Alex saw the angry glitter in Mulder's eyes, and immediately took on a
defensive posture. "How do you feel?" He said tonelessly, backing off a
step.

Mulder struggled to sit up, but a wave of pain and nausea stopped him.
"What...where am I? Where's Scully?"

"Scully's fine, and you're safe."

"Safe?" he would have laughed if it wouldn't have hurt so much. "With
*you*?"

Alex gave no answer.

"Where am I? What is this place?"

"It's mine. And it's safe. Are you hungry?"

Glassy eyes stared up at the other man. "How did I get out of the lodge?"

"I took you out."

"You did."

Alex nodded.

"What about the others?"

"The other hostages are fine."

"The kidnappers?"

A long silence preceded Alex's answer. "Dead."

"All of them?"

"...Yeah."

Mulder didn't even ask. He knew from Alex's tone and posture, exactly how
the five men ended up that way.

"What do you want from me?"

"What makes you think I want anything?"

"You don't..." A series of coughs interrupted his sentence. "Ah, shit..."

"I'll get you some water."

"To hell....hell with the water, Alex." More coughing. "You didn't bring me
here...wherever here is, out of the goodness of your heart. You...want
something...shit..."

Alex watched the color begin to drain again from Mulder's face. "Yeah,
Mulder," he said softly. "You know what I want? I want you to shut up and
relax."

"You expect me to just lie back and accept that I'm God knows where with
*you*? You expect to me relax and let you feed me, and bring me liquids,
and..."

"Take your temperature."

"What?"

"It's time to take your temperature."

Mulder looked at him, dumbfounded. "You're fucking nuts."

"Because I want to take your temperature?"

Mulder continued to stare, unable to believe what was happening. "Where am
I?"

"I told you. You're in my cabin."

"*Where*?"

Alex cocked his head, studying the older man, but saying nothing.

"Goddamn it, you son of a bitch, tell me where I am!" Mulder tried to get
out of bed, but was knocked back by pain and a tidal wave of nausea. "God,
oh..."

Quickly, Alex reached down beside the bed and brought a pail up under
Mulder's chin, as the older man began to retch.

Having eaten nothing in over twenty-four hours, Mulder brought up mostly
liquid. He groaned with each spasm, pressing a hand to his side to attempt
to stop the pain there. Alex held the pail with one hand, and gently stroked
his hair with the other, all the while, murmuring soothing words to him.
When the spasms finally stopped, Alex took the pail away, and helped him lie
back. He sat at the edge of the bed, and caressed a flushed cheek.

"You're sick, Mulder. You can't go getting all worked up. Just try to relax,
okay?"

Too weak at the moment to argue, Mulder closed his eyes. Every breath
brought a soft moan, and Alex knew that he was in pain. He cupped Mulder's
cheek in his palm, and called softly to him. "Mulder? Listen. I'm going to
go heat up a little soup for you." He shushed the soft grunt of protest, and
continued. "You've got nothing in your stomach. I can give you something for
the pain, but you have to eat first. Just try a little soup, please?"

Mulder's eyes opened to glassy hazel slits, and he looked up at Alex.

This was fucking unreal. He *had* to be dreaming. Alex Krycek? Taking care
of him? Wanting to feed him soup? Tenderly stroking his face and hair...

"Why?"

"What'd you say?"

"Why?" he asked again, croaking the word a little louder.

Alex chewed on his lower lip for a moment, staring down at the other man.
"Let's just concentrate on getting you well, okay? We can talk later."

Mulder watched Alex pick the pail up and walk out of the room, then realized
that the younger man had just left him alone. Maybe he could poke around a
little...search for a phone, or try to determine where he was...

He tried to sit up, and immediately let himself slip back against the
pillows as the room began to spin by at breakneck speed.

"God...oh, God...."

The nausea returned, and he clutched his side as he attempted to take a few
deep, cleansing breaths.

"Krycek..."

//Who the hell just called Krycek? Was that you?//

//Yeah. Don't worry, it was too soft for him to hear. Just lie here and
suffer in silence. Keep telling yourself you'd rather die than ask for his
help.//

//Christ, and you just may do that, the way you're feeling...//

Even thinking hurt. Mulder tried to shut off his thoughts and disconnect the
pain, but it was an extremely difficult task, given the number of places he
hurt. He felt his stomach begin to convulse again.

"No....oh.....no...."

He leaned as far over the side of the bed as he could, and then the spasms
started again. Seconds later, Alex appeared in the doorway.

"Shit." He hurried to the bed, placing the clean pail under Mulder. "I
thought I heard you." He positioned himself behind Mulder, wrapping an arm
around his middle for support as the older man dry-heaved. When it was over,
Mulder was completely wrung out. Alex pulled him back against the pillows,
then disappeared momentarily. He came back with a cool, damp cloth, and
began stroking it over Mulder's face and neck. "It's okay," he cooed softly.
"I know you must feel like dying right now, but you'll be all right, I
promise."

Only about half of Alex's words were making it through to Mulder's frazzled
brain, and even those were making no sense to him. His eyelids fluttered
slowly, and finally closed, and his shallow respiration deepened a bit. He
was falling asleep. Alex continued to smooth the cloth across his face until
it got warm. He placed the cloth on the small table beside the bed, then
felt Mulder's face and neck. They were cooler, but that may have just been a
temporary thing, due to the coolness of the cloth. His hand slid downward,
skimming slowly over the t-shirt, then underneath, checking the temperature
of the flesh there.

Warm. Alex's tongue flicked across his lips.

Hard.

His hand traveled upward, brushing across the hair that dusted the area
between his...

//Don't...//

He sighed softly as the tips of his fingers came in contact with one nipple,
and he gently brushed them across the soft peak. One corner of his mouth
twitched up into a smile as he felt it harden beneath his touch, and he
imagined a soft moan slipping past Mulder's lips.

God, what he wouldn't give to hear this man moan and whimper for him.

//Come on, cut it out. Leave him alone. He's so sick.//

He pulled his hand away, and smoothed the shirt down. His hand went back up
to Mulder's face, determining that he was probably still running a low grade
fever. He pulled the thermometer out of the drawer by the bed, and slipped
it between Mulder's lips. A couple of minutes later, he withdrew it and read
softly to himself. "A hundred point six. Better, but not great." He looked
down at the sleeping man, and let his thumb whisper across his bottom lip.
"Sleep well." He rose from the bed, and walked quietly out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No luck?"

Scully looked as though she hadn't slept for a week. She felt even worse.
She raked a hand through her hair and shook her head. "We covered every
house, lodge, and business in the area. No one has seen Mulder or anyone
going by the description of the man that one of the hostages gave. I take it
you've turned nothing up."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"No one's giving up, though, Agent Scully. I'm gonna keep every available
man on it."

"Thank you."

"How about you?"

"A.D. Skinner has promised to keep as many people on it as possible."

"We'll find him. And he'll be fine."

Scully took a deep breath, and gave the sheriff and tight smile. "I know we
will."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder's eyes opened slowly, and for a moment, he couldn't remember where he
was. Then as the misery returned, so did his memory.

//Holy shit. What the hell is going on? What does he want?//

Alex cautiously entered the room for the third time since Mulder had fallen
asleep some four hours ago. Finding Mulder awake, he walked over to the bed
and looked down at him.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I'm in the Twilight Zone," Mulder answered weakly. "I want to know why
I'm here."

"We have time to talk about that, Mulder..."

"So..." Mulder winced as he tried to pull himself up. "..I've gone from one
kidnapping situation to another?"

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"How did you know?"

"About your situation?"

"Yeah."

"I make it my business to know."

"Why?"

Alex smiled. "To keep you out of trouble."

"Why?"

The younger man licked his lower lip. "You're important."

"To whom?"

Alex opened his mouth, then decided against a reply. "Let's try some soup,
now." He disappeared from the room and returned minutes later, carrying a
small bowl containing an opaque liquid. "Okay," he said, placing the bowl on
the small table. Temperature check, first."

Mulder opened his mouth without a fuss, confusion and weakness tempering his
reactions.

Alex pulled the thermometer out of his patient's mouth, and gave an
encouraging smile. "Ninety nine point eight. How's your stomach?"

"Not great. Better, though."

"Good." Alex reached for the bowl, and balancing it in one hand, he spooned
out some liquid with the other, and brought it to Mulder's lips. "Let's see
if you can't keep some of this down."

Mulder accepted the other's man's offering, all the while telling himself
that he shouldn't. But as much as it killed him to admit it, Krycek was
right. He *had* to eat something. So, okay, he'd eat, he'd drink, he'd rest,
then when he was stronger, he'd kill the bastard and get the hell out of
here.

When the second spoonful went down and didn't come back up, Alex grinned at
him. "I'm probably jumping the gun, but so far, so good."

Mulder stared at him as he accepted a third spoonful. "You know, I'm
wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Why the hell I'm letting you feed me."

Alex gave him a crooked grin. "Couldn't be because deep down you're enjoying
the attention, could it? Everybody needs a little TLC once in a while."

"Yeah. From their mother. Or their spouse. Not from scum-sucking assassins."

"Well, Mulder," Alex said, suddenly cool, "since you seem to be sorely
lacking on both counts, I should think you'd take it where you could get
it."

"Well, think again." He reached for the spoon and bowl. "Give them to me. I
can feed myself."

Alex hesitated, then shrugged and handed him the bowl. He watched Mulder
bring the spoon to his mouth, then he rose to his feet. "You're *welcome*."

Mulder glared at him from over the rim of the bowl. "Thank you...thank you
for kidnapping me and holding me prisoner where, I'm sure, no one knows I
am."

"Anybody ever tell you, you've got a one-track mind?"

"Anybody ever tell *you*, you're a low-life, conniving, back-stabbing
prick?"

"Besides you, every chance you get?"

"Yeah."

Alex raised one shoulder and let it drop. "A few people, actually..."

"Surprise, surprise."

"But none of them lived to say it a second time."

The two men stared at each other, neither one willing to break eye-contact
first. In the end, it was Alex who backed down, finally weary of the contest
of wills. He saw the little smile of triumph curve Mulder's lips as he
headed toward the door. Before he left the room, he paused, and without
looking back, said, "Don't think they're all going to be that easy." He then
disappeared into the next room, leaving Mulder to finish his dinner, alone.

Mulder sat brooding for a long while, slowly stirring the broth, wondering
what the hell had just happened here.

//Who gives a *shit* about what just happened here? Get. The. Fuck. Out.//

//Okay, food...you need food. You're too weak, right now.//

He proceeded to swallow the soup down, one spoonful after another,
congratulating himself on keeping it all down...a bit prematurely, as it
turned out. With just a little bit more to go, that queasy feeling came over
him again. "No," he took two deep breaths, trying to stamp the sensation
down. "No, you won't. Not...God, not again..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex stood in the small kitchen, pouring the soup from the pan into a
tupperware bowl. He tossed the pan into the sink, taking pleasure in the
loud clatter. It was all the anger he'd allowed himself thus far, and it
felt good.

Goddamn.

Even sick, he was a smug pain in the ass.

He braced himself against the counter, on both hands, and tilted his head
back, closing his eyes.

//But hasn't he got a right to be pissed? I mean, in essence, you *did*
kidnap him. And you've got no intention to let anyone know where he is, any
time soon...//

//Yeah, but you're taking care of him. You bandaged his cracked ribs, you
cleaned up his face...you're bringing his fever down...feeding him...you
think the ungrateful shit would appreciate it, right?//

"Cut your losses," he whispered to himself. "If he's gotten on your nerves
this much in the short time he's been conscious, what's it going to be like
after a few days?"

//Since when do you give up so easily?//

//Since...//

Alex was jostled out of his thoughts by a sound that had become all too
familiar over the last few hours.

"Shit."

He fled the kitchen, and headed straight for the bedroom, where he found
Mulder with his arms wrapped around himself, half-sobbing, half-choking, as
he vomited over the side of the bed, and into the pail....mostly.

Alex hurried into the room and picked the pail up, holding it in front of
Mulder with one hand as he moved to kneel behind him. He wound his arm
around Mulder, just above the other man's own arm, and held him firmly.

Mulder continued to heave, bringing up every last drop of the soup. Between
the pain of his cracked ribs and the throbbing in his face, he was miserable
enough. But now, from this frequent vomiting, his stomach muscles had begun
to ache, and there was a stabbing pain within.

When Mulder was finally through, Alex placed his other hand on his head, and
tenderly stroked the golden-brown hair. "Okay," he murmured against the side
of Mulder's perspiration-dotted face. "It's okay, now..." He lowered himself
slowly, sitting on the backs of his calves.

Unaware of what he was doing, Mulder slumped back against Alex's chest,
completely sapped of strength. His arms fell away from his body, leaving
only Alex's arm around him. His head fell back against the younger man's
shoulder, and he turned his face to the side, burying it in the warm curve
of his throat.

Before he knew what he was doing, Alex was brushing his lips across the
surface of Mulder's hair, then dropping several small kisses on his head.

//Oh, God, this isn't good.//

//What do you mean, this isn't good? This is...fuck....it's incredible.//

//The man is virtually *unconscious*. He's got no fucking idea what the hell
is going on right now. *Good* is having him awake, coherent, and *begging*
for your touch.//

Alex gently shifted Mulder around, and lay him back against the pillows.
When he moved away, Mulder groaned softly. He leaned close, resting his
weight on his hands. "What is it, Mulder? Do you need something?"

Mulder grimaced, licking at his lips.

"Lousy taste in your mouth?"

A soft sigh was his only answer.

"I'll be right back." Alex went into the bathroom, and ran some water into a
glass. He carried it back into the bedroom, where he sat at the edge of the
bed, and slipped a hand under Mulder's head. "Okay. Don't swallow it, now.
Just rinse."

Mulder took a mouthful of water and slowly swished it around before spitting
it into the provided bucket.

"Again?"

The older man nodded weakly.

The process was repeated, then Alex guided him back to the pillows.

Mulder opened his eyes as he felt Alex's weight lift from the mattress. Alex
looked down into the pale face, reading things into Mulder's expression that
were more than likely just in his imagination.

"Be back in a sec," Alex assured Mulder, then exited the room. He was back
shortly afterward, carrying basin half-full of cool water, and a cloth. He
set the items down on the table, and seated himself by Mulder's hip. "You're
all sweaty," he explained. "Let's see if we can make you a little more
comfortable. Can you move forward just a little bit so I can take your shirt
off?"

In no condition to argue, Mulder let Alex gently pull him forward and work
his arms out of the t-shirt, then pull it over his head. Alex discarded the
shirt, then helped Mulder lie back.

"All right, just relax and try to breathe easy."

Golden-brown lashes drifted downward, and a low moan vibrated in Mulder's
throat as Alex gently bathed his face and chest. He took a number of slow,
deep breaths, then opened his mouth, barely whispering Alex's name.

"Shut up, Mulder," Alex said softly. He drew the cloth down Mulder's throat,
and over the curve of one shoulder, then dipped it back into the basin. He
wrung out the excess water, and resumed his task. "That feel better?"
Receiving a low, throaty grunt, he continued on. "Listen, Mulder, what do
you say we call a truce?"

One hazel eye opened halfway and stared up at him.

"I mean it. You're hurt, and you're sick. Just let me take care of you, then
when you're better, we can talk...argue...fight...whatever. Deal?"

The eye closed, and Mulder said nothing.

"Okay." Alex smoothed down Mulder's chest hair with the cloth, watching as
they crept back up, twisting and curling of their own accord. "Fine. Don't
tell me. I'll just interpret your silence the way I want to." Again he
flattened the hairs, and again they sprung back up. "And I've decided to
take it as a 'yes'."

The air moved between Mulder's teeth in a long hiss as he exhaled. Alex's
touch...light enough so it didn't upset his stomach further, but not so
light that it didn't relax and soothe him.

Alex's touch...*Alex*. Alex. Fucking. Krycek.

//God, stop this.//

//Why? Feels good, doesn't it?//

//Exactly the point, idiot.//

//But I feel like shit. It's good to get a little relief.//

//Even when the man you hate most is the one providing it?//

Alex frowned as Mulder suddenly stiffened. "You okay? You feeling sick
again?"

Mulder opened his eyes and met a genuinely concerned gaze. He tucked the
expression and the sensation it stirred within him, away, not wanting feel
anything but resentment and anger toward this man. "S...stop."

Alex's hand froze, and his eyes locked with and held the other man's. He
watched emotion after tortured emotion flash in the hazel depths, and backed
away, giving Mulder some room. "You uh...you tired? You want to try to get
some more sleep?"

Mulder nodded, closing his eyes.

"All right. But listen...when you wake up, we have to try some soup again,
okay? And you gotta drink something. You *need* fluids."

The older man turned his head to the side, wincing at the ache in his jaw,
then turned to the other side. He'd given no answer, but Alex knew that he'd
heard and understood.

Alex sat for a long while, watching Mulder until he was certain that he was
asleep. He cocked his head, looking at the sleeping man sideways, admiring
the way his mouth relaxed into an enticing pout. The heavy stubble only
emphasized the appearance, and Alex had to clasp his hands together to keep
from sliding his fingers across the swollen lower lip.

//Jesus. Ho-ly shit. How the fuck are you going to handle this? You can want
him till hell freezes over. That's not going to make him want *you*.//

//No, genius, if sheer want could get you what you were after, he would have
been yours, years ago. Just take good care of him. Be patient. Talk to
him...he's not stupid. He'll begin to understand. Hell, I'm not entirely
sure that he isn't beginning to, already.//

//He'll never admit that. Never. The impossible could happen, and he could
end up wanting you as much as you want him, and he'd *never* admit it.//

His eyes wandered from Mulder's face to his chest, now rising and falling at
a smooth, even rate. The fingers that he wouldn't allow to touch Mulder's
lips, now broke from his mental control, which was tenuous at best, and slid
through the slightly-damp hair. A tiny smile twitched at the corners of his
lips.

//Never say never.//

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

//By the book. Isn't what I told you, Mulder? Just. Once.//

//You know I couldn't. The kids...//

//Well, now look what you've gotten yourself into.//

//I know, Scully, I know. I think...I think he broke my ribs.//

//I told you, by the book.//

//All *right*, already. Next time...//

//*Next* time? There's not going to be a next time. You're going to die
here.//

Mulder moaned, briefly drawing the attention of the man who sat reading in a
chair at the foot of the bed. He quieted, and Alex returned to his book.

//She's right.//

//How do you know, Beals?//

//Because I'm going to kill you...after J.T. has a little fun with you.//

He found himself on his back, ineffectively fighting the man sprawled over
him, shuddering at the feel of the thick tongue probing his ear.

//No...don't...oh, God, just kill me...//

//Easy, pretty Fox. You're gonna like this.//

He was rendered immobile as a hand crept down the front of his pants and
began to roughly squeeze his cock.

//Please...oh, God, please...//

Alex looked up again from his book as a soft whimper reached his ears.
Mulder was becoming restless, his body twitching and writhing
intermittently. He dropped the book down beside the chair, and moved to the
bed settling on the edge. "Mulder," he called softly, afraid he'd startle
the other man.

//Don't touch me. Don't...//

//Shh. It's all right.//

The touch gentled, and suddenly it felt good.

//He's gone. They're all gone. I'll take care of you...//

Alex frowned as Mulder's distress turned into something else.

//Krycek...//

//Alex.//

//W-what?//

//I'm Alex...// The hand continued to soothe and arouse him. //..and I'm
going to make it all better. Does that feel good?//

"Yes..."

"Yes, what, Mulder?" Alex asked softly. He chewed at the inside corner of
his lip as he reached out to caress the sleeping man's arm.

Mulder's hips rose slightly off the mattress, then lowered. "Alex..."

Alex froze, his mind racing, attempting to process the single word he'd just
heard.

//No. Oh, no, no. It's too...don't even think it. Just because he said your
name...//

Mulder's mouth dropped open and a brief, stuttering gasp escaped into the
air.

Unable to stop himself, Alex carefully lifted the sheet. His eyes widened at
the sight of the impressive bulge in Mulder's underwear. He closed his eyes
and lowered the sheet, suddenly finding himself sporting his own erection.

"Shit. Ah, damn."

Before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning over the sleeping man,
bringing his lips closer to that utterly, irresistibly sexy mouth.

Before his target could be acquired, Mulder's eyes opened and blinked
dazedly up at him. Alex ceased his advance and waited.

Now fully cognizant of his surroundings and the disquieting proximity of the
other man, Mulder turned his head to the side, and looked away.

"I uh...you...you were dreaming," Alex began, by way of explanation, "and I
didn't...I didn't know if I should wake you or not."

Mulder closed his eyes and said nothing.

"You wanna tell me about it?" Alex watched the convulsive movements of the
older man's throat.

"No."

"Okay. Since you're awake, maybe we should try a little more soup?"

Mulder nodded. "I gotta use the bathroom first."

"Yeah...okay...come on, I'll help you."

Mulder shoved the hand away that had just tucked itself under his shoulder.
"I can do it myself."

"Mulder, you're weak. Let me just..."

"*No*." He worked himself into a sitting position. "Why don't
you...go...heat up the soup or...or something."

One corner of Alex's mouth twitched impatiently, but he held his tongue.
"Fine. Call if you need me."

//Yeah, like *that's* gonna happen.//

Not wanting him to see his very visible erection, Mulder sat and waited
until Alex was gone before he pulled himself out of the bed and got to his
feet. Well, at least the room waited to start spinning *after* he was
standing, this time. He held on to the headboard, breathing deeply, and
waited for it to stop before he attempted to make the trek to the bathroom.
Every step was a massive effort, and when he finally made it to the doorway,
he held on to the frame, congratulating himself on his accomplishment. He
rested for a bit, then closed the door behind him.

In the kitchen, Alex was also congratulating himself on the remarkable
restraint he'd shown thus far. He was a patient man usually, subscribing to
the old adage that all good things come to those who wait. But where Fox
Mulder was concerned, all of his fortitude and good sense went straight to
hell. He'd concluded long ago, after a particularly close call involving
himself and three men who would have most assuredly killed Mulder *and*
Scully had he not been there to prevent it, that this man alone would be the
cause of his death. Either unknowingly or by his own hand, Fox Mulder would
be the one to lay him low.

Alex heaved a long sigh. He'd really just prefer for Mulder to *lay* him,
but, well...

He ladled a small amount of soup into a bowl, and carried it into the
bedroom. Not finding Mulder in the room, his eyes shifted to the closed
bathroom door. Placing the bowl down on the table by the bed, he walked over
to the door and knocked softly. "You okay in there?"

No answer.

He knocked again. "Mulder?"

Hearing nothing, his heart began to pound.

//Shit, oh shit.//

He threw the door open and found a damp, towel-draped Mulder, holding on to
the bathroom sink with one hand and rummaging through the medicine cabinet
with the other. His heart rate slowed, then quickened as anger took over.

"Why the hell didn't you answer me?"

Mulder ignored the question, behaving as though he was the only one in the
room.

Alex came to stand directly beside him and asked again. "Mulder, why didn't
you answer me? I called you twice."

Mulder turned his head in Alex's direction. "There are no razors."

Alex's hands curled into fists at his side. "*What*?"

"Razors. I need to shave."

"You know," the younger man responded, letting his irritation show, "I'd pay
good money right now for a straight edge so I could slit your throat."

Now supporting himself with both hands, Mulder gave the other man his best
deadpan expression under the circumstances. "Kitchen knife would work just
as well."

Alex glared back. "Don't fucking tempt me." His eyes roved over Mulder's
body, noticing that the bandages were gone. "You took a shower?"

"Yeah. Don't tell me you didn't notice that I needed one."

Alex raked a hand through his hair. "I gotta re-bandage you, now."

"Gotta shave first."

"Look...sit down before you fall down, and I'll go get a razor." Alex guided
Mulder down onto the toilet lid, and went to retrieve his shaving kit. When
he returned, Mulder was still sitting where he'd left him, but now he was
turned toward the sink, slumped over onto the porcelain bowl, and holding
his side. "Mulder, let me get you back to bed. I can shave you there."

Mulder lifted his head, and turned pain-glazed eyes to the younger man.
"You're not shaving me there, or anywhere. I'll do it myself."

"For the love of Christ, why don't you *stop* being such a goddamn fucking
pain in the ass, and let me help you!" Alex emphasized his words by slamming
the kit down on the counter. When Mulder issued no comeback, he raised a
hand to the back of his neck, massaging the tight muscles. "Look...your soup
was piping hot when I brought it in. It should be just about ready to eat
right now. You wait any longer, and it's going to start getting cold.
Now....*please*...let's go into the bedroom, eat, then you can shave, okay?"

Mulder hesitated, considering the idea, then pushed to his feet, wincing as
he did. He slowly made his way back to the bed with Alex just two steps
behind.

"Wait...hold on," Alex instructed, going to the bag he'd brought in earlier.
He pulled a fresh pair of underwear out and brought them to Mulder. "You
don't want to get into bed with that damp towel on, do you?"

Mulder snatched the underwear from Alex's hands, and sat on the bed. He
groaned softly as he tried to lean over far enough to put them on. He'd get
just so far before the pain became too much for him to take. Finally on the
third try, Alex lost patience, and snatched the shorts back. He held them
near the floor so that Mulder could slip his feet through the holes, then
worked them quickly up his legs. When he got to the knees, Mulder took over,
pulling them up the rest of the way. He worked them up under the towel, then
unwrapped it and let it fall onto the bed. Alex took the towel away, then
pulled the blanket up around the older man's waist. He carried the towel to
the bathroom, and by the time he'd returned, Mulder's head was lolling
against the pillows, his eyes beginning to close.

"Oh, no you don't. Mulder, come on, you gotta try to eat."

Exhausted hazel eyes opened and only half-focused on the man before them.
"Hmm."

Alex picked the bowl up, and brought the spoon to Mulder's lips. "Here you
go."

Mulder opened his mouth, accepting the soup without a fight. It took a
while, but Alex got him to swallow every drop. When he was finished, Alex
set the bowl down and waited. Fifteen minutes went by, and Mulder showed no
signs of nausea, so the other man decided that before he nodded off again,
it was time for him to take a painkiller. He got Mulder to swallow the pill
with some water, then smiled, surprised that Mulder drank all of the
contents of the cup before settling back against the pillows and closing his
eyes.

"I hate to bother you, Mulder, but we got one more thing to do before you go
to sleep. Come on, now, wake up."

"Leave me alone..."

"I can't. The shave can wait till later, but I gotta wrap you back up."

Mulder grumbled and moaned while Alex re-bandaged his ribs, then promptly
fell asleep when it was done.

Alex watched him from the side of the bed, marveling at how from one minute
to the next he could go from wanting to bleed this man dry, to simply
*wanting* him. He reached out, running his fingers gently through the damp
hair.

"Maybe I was wrong," he whispered. "Maybe you're *not* going to kill me.
Maybe you're going to drive me insane...would serve me right, you know. I
did it to myself the minute I decided to do this." He sighed deeply. "Ah,
shit. Goodnight, Fox."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"But...Sir...I understand that, but this is Agent Mulder we're talking
about. How can they just...no, sir...yes. But I can't just..."

On his end, A.D. Skinner rubbed his hand across his broad forehead. He
understood completely, his agent's reluctance to leave the place where she
last saw her partner, and he hated to finally have to tell her that the
Director had decided that he could no longer spare the massive amount of
manpower that he had allowed them thus far. But tell her he did, and he was
now listening to every argument, rational and otherwise from her, on why
they should remain.

"Scully...Agent...Agent Scully...I'm sorry. I did everything I could. I have
to bring them in. And you should come back as well."

"Sir, I can't..."

"It's been five days, Agent Scully. I know you, and I know that you've gone
over that area with a fine tooth comb. If Agent Mulder was there, you would
have found him. I'm *sorry*. I have to call you back."

Scully squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the back of the chair so tightly,
her fingers were beginning to turn blue. "Yes, sir," she said quietly.

"We won't give up," Skinner reassured her. "But we *do* have to scale down
our search." His words were met with silence. "Scully..." he paused,
searching for something meaningful to say, but in the end, stated simply,
"We'll find him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder sat by the window, watching the snow fall. Today was the first day
he'd felt well enough to actually venture out of the bedroom, and the slight
change in scenery made him feel a bit better...and restless...and angry.

Alex walked in from the kitchen, carrying a tray on top of which sat a bowl
of stew, a couple of slices of bread, and a cup of tea. Mulder's first real
meal.

"Lunch," the younger man called cheerfully as he entered.

Mulder turned toward the voice. He watched as the tray was set on the table
in front of him, and Alex took a seat opposite the sofa.

"When are you going to get tired of playing this game?"

Alex blinked, taken slightly aback by the question. "I'm not playing any
game with you."

"No? I've been here...how the hell long *have* I been here, anyway?"

"Five days."

"Five days. Five fucking days I've been here. You won't tell me why. You
haven't at least let Scully know that I'm *alive*...if this isn't a game,
what the fuck is it? What do you *want* with me?"

Alex studied him quietly before speaking. "You were dreaming again last
night."

Mulder's head snapped back toward the window.

"You called my name."

Silence.

"Twice."

"Did you hear the word 'die' before your name?"

"No. What I *did* hear was a whole lot of moaning..."

Alex's voice drifted toward him like a silken cloud, permeating his skin,
and raising gooseflesh everywhere it touched.

"...and don't tell me I was torturing you, because it wasn't that kind of
moaning."

Mulder closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. When he opened
them, a pair of luminescent green eyes were only inches from his.

"Tell me what I want from you, Mulder."

"How...how the fuck should I know?"

"Because you're not stupid. You're smug, you're stubborn, you're an
infuriating pain in my ass, but you're *not* stupid. Tell me what I want."

Mulder continued to stare, mesmerized by the unblinking sea of green. He
shook his head, commanding his brain to work. "Fuck you."

Alex raised his eyebrows. "I might not have put it so crudely, but..."

Mulder shuddered.

//Don't. Don't let him do this to you.//

"No," he rasped. "Fuck. You."

A tiny smile tugged at one corner of Alex's mouth and before Mulder could
react, he leaned forward, tangling his fingers in the golden-brown hair, and
covering the other man's mouth with his own. His arm came around Mulder's
waist, pulling him closer.

Mulder struggled, but only half-heartedly. Alex's grip on him was firm, but
not so tight that he couldn't have escaped had he really wanted to. The
other man's kiss stunned him at first, then it began. That pulse-quickening,
cock-hardening flood of lust. It hit him like an anvil and he fell under its
power, helpless to pull himself up. He moaned into Alex's mouth, willing his
hands to stay at his side, but they seemed to have ideas of their own.

Alex felt Mulder's arms slide around his body, his hands wandering slowly
along the length of his spine, and his mind shouted victory. He pulled away
for a split second, cocked his head in the opposite direction, and took
those exquisite lips again, this time slipping his tongue between them,
exploring the hard surface of his teeth and soft walls of his cheeks before
finding his tongue.

Mulder's tongue willingly met the intruder, stroking and tasting. Memorizing
the distinct flavor of not the first, but definitely the last man he'd ever
want.

The last man he'd ever...*want*? Alex *Krycek*?"

//No. Oh, no.//

//Yes.//

//This is...its' *wrong*. Christ, it's *so* wrong.//

//Is that why it feels so good?//

//You can't do this. He's a liar and a murderer. And now he wants your soul.
*Don't*.//

Mulder summoned all the strength his weakened body possessed, and shoved
Alex away. "Motherfucker," he panted raggedly. "Stay away from me."

"Why?" Alex's voice glided over his jagged nerves. "For God's sake, Mulder,
let it go. Forget about what you *should* do and what you *should* feel.
It's just you and me here. Let it all go. Stop being Special Agent Mulder
for a minute and just feel. Do what your heart tells you to do." Alex
reached out and skimmed his fingers along the line of Mulder's jaw. "Do what
your body tells you to do."

Mulder's eyelids drooped and his respiration deepened. His body shook with
the effort it took not to fall forward into this man's arms and offer
himself up to whatever Alex had in mind for him.

//No...//

"No."

Mulder held onto his side, and pushed himself up off of the couch. Unwilling
to give up, Alex followed him to the window.

"Let me show you the other side of me, Fox..."

The utterance of his first name, sent a shiver through Mulder's body.

Alex ran his fingertips across the older man's shoulder. "You might find
that you like me...quite a lot."

Mulder bowed his head and whispered. "I hate you. You killed my father..."

"You know how all that happened...you're just using it now...for an excuse.
It doesn't fly anymore, and you know it."

"You're scum."

"