Beloved 4
Cape Town Library
Tuesday, August 10th
10:00amThe Cape Town Library was actually a large home converted into a library. Mulder and Scully walked up the porch and entered the building. The smell of oiled, oak bookcases and old, fine dust pervaded the air. The noise of the door opening and closing must have alerted the librarian. A small and frail old man came out of a side room to greet them.
"Hello. You two must be the FBI agents that are trying to solve the mystery of the killings. I am Ivan Tadinov " the old man said.
"This is my partner Special Agent Dana Scully and I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder," he told the old man. "We were wondering if you could tell us the history of the town?"
The old man beamed. "I would be most happy to tell you about the history of Cape Town. Cape Town was founded several years after the mysterious disappearance of the colony on Roanoke Island on the Outer Banks. It was felt that a colony based on the mainland would be safer. Explorers traveling up the Pamlico River found a wide tributary of that river that led to a fertile area largely clear of forests and swamp. The tributary was named after the expedition's leader, Captain Thomas Feared. The first settlers were brought to Cape Town in the late 1660's. They established relatively good relations with the local Native American tribes in the area especially with the Digga, an offshoot of the Waccamaw-Siouan tribe. One interesting thing to note is that the Waccamaw-Siouan called themselves the 'People of the Fallen Star,' recalling an old legend
which tells of a ball of fire falling to earth and creating Lake Waccamaw. Well, the Digga went further and said that their ancestors first went into the lake and were changed by spirits that came from the fallen star into a new people. They traveled here and were the only tribe that would actually set foot in town. The others were under the impression that the land was a center of powerful magic and stayed away.
Mulder's interest had picked up when he heard about the "fallen star" description. He turned to his partner who was wearing her "no don't go there" look on her face. The old man stopped to catch his breath. He seemed to be enjoying talking about the town's history, Mulder could understand that since the town was small and everyone probably knew the history by heart.
The old man continued, "With the absence of the threat of violence from the Indians, the town and its surroundings flourished. The land was particular fertile for tobacco so it became the cash crop. Many more slaves had to be brought in then in other parts of the South due to the high rate of suicide among them. It was said that they feared the land and so were willing to die rather then stay here. It took a particular harsh type of person to become successful here. The most successful planters were the Spenders. They started a process that was particularly brutal. They would take a child from a couple and tell the couple that they would take the child away to live safely away from Cape Town if the parents did not try to escape or suicide. Of course, they lied and each child was sold to someone else. It did keep the Spender's from having to replenish their stock of slaves as much as their neighbors and so they prospered."
Scully's eyes had widened at the comments about slavery. She knew her partner was already sensitive about his family's participation in the Consortium, the added guilt that his family was involved so horribly with human slavery probably made things worse. She knew they would have to talk about it.
"The town flourished for quite awhile until the middle 1800's when there was an exodus of people leaving. It has since become a quiet little town," the old man finished. His brow was wet with sweat and he coughed a few times.
"Mr. Tadinov, that was fascinating, but you left out some of the more interesting points, like how did a traveling family of gypsies decide to settle down in one place after centuries of traveling and why did a rash of murders begin in this town," Mulder said to the elderly librarian. He didn't want to sound too harsh but the man glossed over the details. He knew that the librarian was part of the family that ran this town, but he was hoping to get some answers.
"Agent Mulder, there isn't much to tell. The gypsies decided that farming was more practical and decided to settle down. As to the murders, well those are all old wives tales," Tadinov finished worriedly. He should have not said anything to these two. He would be punished for sure for revealing so much, but he was tired of all the innocents being killed. And he was old, he knew his time would be soon anyway so he was less afraid then he used to be as a boy, hearing about how his ancestor Alexander was killed by the Spender family. If he could save this young man from the fate that awaited him he would be happy.
"Well, there is something that goes into detail about all of the 'secret' history of the town. Why don't you two wait here," the old man said as he wandered into the back.
"Mulder, you might give the old man some slack," Scully chided.
"Scully, he knows something and I get the feeling he's willing to share it,"
Ivan Tadinov found the thin volume he had hidden in the back far from the eyes of the elders. They thought this manuscript destroyed, but they were wrong. He would give this to the FBI agents and they would know that they should leave this cursed place. He thanked God once again that he never had children and so felt free to give this information. Ivan was so relieved to find the manuscript that he didn't hear the first sound.
His ears pricked up when he realized there was sound like metal scratching the oak wood. He knew what that sound meant and hurried to the agents. He turned around to see the rage contorted face of his ancestor. He was about to scream his terror when his throat was ripped open from one end to another.
"Trying to keep my beloved from me my wretched child? Well, you will die slowly," the voice of his ancestor's ghost told him. Ivan fell to the floor, the manuscript fell to his side. He lay there dying thinking he had wasted his last chance to redeem his family from these killings. He reached out with a bloody hand and as he lay dying wrote out the letter 'A'.
"Mulder, maybe we should go see what's taking our friend so long," Scully suggested.
"I'll go. Why don't you look for anything you can find out here," Mulder said as he walked toward the back.
He came upon the gruesome sight of the dead librarian. He was about to shout out for Scully when he found his mouth covered and a hook placed across his neck.
"Hush, beloved we don't want that meddlesome partner of yours disturbing us would we?" Alexander said as he rubbed his all too real erection against Mulder's buttocks. "I will release your mouth, but if you scream I will kill her," Alexander released Mulder when Mulder nodded his assent.
"Good, you see what I do to those who seek to keep us apart," Alexander said to Mulder.
"Alexander, he was a harmless old man how can you do this?" Mulder asked in horror.
"It is because I love you and because of this," Alexander said as he pushed Mulder against the bookcase. The cruel hook quickly tore Mulder's clothes from his body. When Mulder lay naked with his clothes laying on the floor, Alexander pushed himself hard against him. Mulder whimpered as Alexander quickly undid the buttons on his breeches and released his massive member. He quickly spat on his fingers and began to probe Mulder's opening.
Mulder tried to stifle a moan, knowing that if he said a word Scully would rush head long into her own death. He tried to stay quiet as impatient fingers worked to loosen him up. Finally, he felt the blunt head of Alexander's cock press against his opening. He bit down knowing what was next.
Alexander was in ecstasy. The extra power he received when he killed the old man was allowing him to remain corporeal and able to take his lover as he did in the past. He pushed hard against his Fox's tight opening. He could hear his beloved moan as his cock lanced through the defenseless opening. Alexander moaned as the all too real sensation of being sheath overcame him. He pushed himself hard against the back of his beloved, nippy at the strong white neck with his teeth only to kiss it to make it feel better.
Feeling the thick member stroke in and out of his anus, stretching it caused his own cock to thicken with lust. He was disgusted with himself, but couldn't escape the feelings. He was soon pushing back and doing the things he did with Walter to cause the cock within him to shoot quickly.
Alexander could not believe how skilled his love had become. Fox had always been a passionate lover, but he was really skillful. He always wanted to be filled by Alexander's cock and so gave great pleasure, but he never knew how to contract his muscles like this. Alexander groaned in both pleasure and regret, knowing that once he came he would be depleted of the energy needed to remain corporeal. He decided this was too good to give up so he grabbed his lover tenderly by the waist and began to thrust in violently. He couldn't help it, but the hook cut into his lover's side quickly. The intense pain caused his Fox to react by tensing his body. This caused his anus to clamp down on Alexander's member and soon Alexander was shooting his load deep into his lover's body.
"You will always be mine. Always," Alexander said as he disappeared. Mulder lay with his head on his arms whimpering with shame and the fact that his cock was begging release. He opened his eyes. He wasn’t leaning against the bookshelf but instead was in the same position as when he found the dead man. In fact, he was still fully dressed. However, he did feel a throbbing in his ass.
He heard a gurgling sound and looked down again at Mr. Tadinov. The man's eyes were brilliant they had seen what had happened.
"Scully, come here quick. Mr. Tadinov has been attacked," Mulder yelled. The old man pushed a slim book towards Mulder. Mulder took it and slipped it into his jacket pocket. The old man pointed toward the letter 'A' written in blood and then closed his eyes.
Scully came racing in with her weapon held at the ready. When she saw the dying man she quickly sat down to see what she could do. He knew it was hopeless, this man's carotid arteries had been completely severed and he had lost most of his blood. She simply could do nothing but watch as the man died before her. She looked up at Mulder and shook her head. There was nothing to be done, but catch the killer. Her mind flashed briefly with rage that someone would hurt such an old man. Her instincts to protect which led her to be a doctor and then to be in law enforcement kicked in.
"Mulder, what did you see?" she asked.
"Nothing. I came back here and saw the man with his throat slashed. I called out for you and that is it. I'm going to check out if the perp left through the back. Why don't you call the sheriff," he replied. He drew his gun, mostly for Scully's benefit because he knew that bullets couldn't stop the killer and began to walk to the back. He came to the back door. It was closed with a simple latch holding it locked.
"You will always be mine, don't ever forget that, beloved," a voice whispered in his ear. He whirled around trying to spot Alexander. There was nothing, but air. He turned back toward the door and it's single lock. With the tip of his gun he lifted the hook out of the latch and let it drop. He walked back to his partner.
"Scully, the perp must have escaped through the back. There is a backdoor that is unlocked," Mulder lied to his partner. She had already donned the ubiquitous latex gloves she carried as she examined the body.
"One large gash to the throat. The cut was made in a left-right motion and in a downward stroke. To get the type of gash the assailant was probably left handed wielding some type of jagged weapon," she intoned in the manner she used when he had to autopsy a victim. "Mulder, I don't understand. To have killed Mr. Tadinov in such close range the killer should have been drenched in blood and there should be bloody footprints leading to the back if he escaped that way. I don't understand it," Scully said as she continued to look at all the blood around the victim and on the absence of blood on the escape route.
"Mulder, look!" Scully said as she pointed toward the letter 'A' written in blood. "This is a definite clue. Mr. Tadinov most have known his assailant and was trying to warn us."
Mulder was still a bit shocked at the sight of all this carnage and the memories of Alexander raping him. "Yes, that sounds right, Scully. Maybe the killer quickly removed his shoes and then ran out the back door," Mulder replied.
Scully looked at her partner as if he had lost his mind. While she could always accuse him of being obsessive and even deranged in some of his theories, she could never say he was complacent. He responded to her questions with the most idiotic possibility of how the killer was able to leave without leaving tracks. She took a good look at her partner and realized that his forehead was beaded with sweat and he looked extremely pale. He's in shock, she told herself. That's why he is acting so odd. I have to get him back to the motel.
"Mulder, are you all right?" she asked. He nodded his head, but his eyes looked glazed over.
Sheriff Dmitry Kriuchek came bounding into the library. When he heard Agent Scully call him to the back room he came running. He took in the site immediately. On the floor in a pool of his own blood lay Ivan Tadinov, one of Dmitry's distant great uncles. From the wound on the man's neck, Dmitry knew he ran a foul of their mutual ancestor.
"Shit," he said out loud and then a silent stream of Russian curses as he tried to figure out a way to keep these agents from calling in the entire FBI. It was coming to close when Mulder would have to be sacrificed to his ancestor's spirit. He looked at the agent that had caused such turmoil in his life and gasped. The man looked like a ghost himself. He was pale and clammy looking.
"Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, are you both okay?" he asked.
"Sheriff, we are both fine. We came here to ask some questions about the town's history and Mr. Tadinov was helping us. He left us to bring out some more documents and then Agent Mulder went back to investigate why Mr. Tadinov was taking so long. And then we discovered this," Scully said indicating the murdered body of the librarian. "Agent Mulder followed and believes the murderer left through a back exit. However, I cannot determine why there are not blood trails leading outside."
Dmitry knew why she wouldn't find any marks. However, the first thing to do was to get these two away from here. "Agent Scully, I can have my deputy take both of your statements later. I will like to talk with you later as well, but I think Agent Mulder may be ill," he said pointing toward the standing figure of Agent Mulder. Mulder was standing steady, but there was a distant look to his eyes and he was pale. "You might want to head back to the motel."
Scully nodded her head. He felt it would be best for Mulder to get away from this scene. "Mulder come on, we can give our statements later. Let's give the sheriff the room he needs to conduct his investigation. Sheriff Kriuchek, I can be available if you need an autopsy," she finished.
Sheriff Kriuchek looked at her with a grimace, "Thank you, Agent Scully but I seriously doubt anyone will question how Mr. Tadinov was killed," he said. He watched as both agents walked out of the library.
"Oh, you poor stupid soul Ivan," Sheriff Kriuchek said to the corpse.
***
Moon Dust Motel
Tuesday, August 10th
12:15pmScully drove the two of them back to the motel. Mulder immediately got out of the car and began to walk towards his room.
"Mulder, will you be okay? I'm going to grab us some take out lunch. I'll meet you back in your room in about thirty minutes," Scully said as she started walking toward the town diner. Several times she looked back at the motel deciding if she should forget about lunch and go back to her partner. She decided he needed to get something in his stomach first.
***
Mulder lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. He had to protect Scully or Alexander would do to her what was done to Mr. Tadinov. He shuddered at the thought of someone hurting his best friend. He didn't want to again lose someone he loved and be powerless to protect them. No, this time he did have something to protect his love ones with. His body. If he could keep the ghost of Alexander occupied he could prevent Scully from getting hurt.
He remembered the manuscript that Mr. Tadinov had pointed out to him to take. He pulled it out of his pocket. It was a hand written journal. It was tattered but readable. Mulder opened the journal and began to read.
1, January, 1915
I, Boris Kriuchek seek to cleanse my soul of the blood of innocents. I believe God has freed me from my obligations to my accursed family by taking into his kingdom my beloved wife Olga and our children through consumption.
This will be my testament to all, of the crimes committed against my family and by my family. This is an old tale that should begin at the start. Our family left the lands we roamed for untold generations with the other families of Roma in the land called Russia for more agreeable land further West. We can to Holland in the late 1700s and from there we set sail for the new world. The elders of our family said we were to seek out new places of spiritual power free from the restrictions of the powers in Europe. We came to the new world in 1810 in the state of Virginia. Our elders told us to go further South, and as our kind was used to traveling we found ourselves in the state of North Carolina in a place called Cape Town.
Here our elders told us we had found the place we had been searching for. We adapted easily, assuming the role of tinkers and such. While the townspeople treated us in typical fashion we did provide skills they did not have and soon our camps were filled with pots and pans to fix.
Everything seemed fine until the head of our house fell for a local lad. While we had no problem with our leader taking a lad to his bed since he had already sired an heir, the lad's family was very angry. So much so that the lad's father killed our leader. But not before the father was cursed. Cursed with the most terrible of curses and being in such a place of spiritual power the curse was made manifest. The father of the lad our leader had loved married him off and sent him far away. The first sign of the curse came about when we tried to move on. One by one each succeeding leader of our family was horribly killed. We sought out our elders and asked how we could stop the deaths.
We were told that only when the love of our murdered leader came back to him would the curse be lifted. Until then we would have to stay here and feed our leader's ghost with blood sacrifice. Our family has been waiting ever since. We gave up our lives of wandering and our freedom to protect our children and ourselves from the wrath of our ancestor.
We hope to be free of this curse when each new generation of Spender comes to this town seeking out their inheritance. They have all been rejected by our ancestor. The elders say that one will come that will calm the ghost and free us. We wait.
I believe …
"Mulder, I was only able to get sandwiches, but I brought you fries," Scully interrupted. Mulder quickly hid the journal before Scully could see it.
"Thanks Scully, I'm feeling better anyway. It smells great," Mulder said as Scully placed the food on the bed. They both dug into their food. Scully knew that when he was ready Mulder would talk. Until then she would just look after her friend.
***
Krycek turned away from the camera. He had to see what the hell Mulder was reading.
***
F.B.I. Headquarters
Tuesday, August 10th
3:00 p.m.Walter Skinner stared at the paperwork on his desk; he wasn't making any progress at all. He was deeply worried about his lover. His eyes strayed to the large photo on his desk. Earlier this year he had gotten his whole team of agents together at the annual picnic for a photo – he and Mulder were standing right next to each other, Scully directly in front of them. His other agents surrounded the three in a semi-circle. No one had seen Mulder surreptitiously slip his hand into Skinner's while the picture was taken; he had looked away from the camera slightly, looking bored, keeping up his "spooky", anti-social persona. Skinner smiled sadly, thinking about Mulder's outer self, so hard and rigid; deep inside, buried by all the pain and betrayal in his life, was a loving, caring man who would do anything for those he loved and trusted. Skinner cheered up a little; he was drawing a little bit of that hidden Mulder out into the open despite all of Mulder's tough words and antagonizing behavior. Skinner chuckled to himself, thinking how stunned Scully would be if she knew what a pussycat Mulder really was, especially after sex. He loved to cuddle and kiss and even talk a little baby talk, snuggling up to Skinner like a little boy.
If only Mulder were safe back at home! Skinner always worried about him when he was travelling on assignment, but this time it was different. Mulder was so evasive on the phone. Something just had to be wrong!
Skinner was startled out of his reverie by the buzz of his phone.
"Yes, Kim?"
"A gentleman to see you, sir," Kim replied. "Your colleague."
Damn! That was Kim's code word for the smoking man – Spender! Skinner groaned and put his head in his hands.
"Send him in."
Skinner turned to his office door and watched him come in. The man slithered in, cigarette dangling from his lips, oblivious to all the non-smoking signs in the building. Spender settled himself in the chair in front of Skinner's desk. He sat quietly, puffing his cigarette, flicking the ashes on the floor.
"Could you at least use the ashtray?" barked Skinner, shoving the ashtray he kept on his desk toward Spender.
"Might touchy today, aren't we?" sneered Spender, flicking more ashes on the floor. Skinner glared.
"Just tell me what you want and get out."
"All in good time." Spender continued to drag on the cigarette, not taking his eyes off Skinner's face. He knew the big man couldn't stand it, but he had to have all his power cards in play to make this work.
Skinner watched the clock on his wall tick away. He could feel his blood pressure rising as Spender sat there and stared. He was in rare form today – ever since all the events of the past spring he hadn't been this cool and collected. Skinner had thought the smoker had lost the power over him and his agents.
"Mulder is in North Carolina," the smoker said after a few more minutes.
"Nothing slips by you, eh?" replied Skinner, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"I wouldn't take that tone, Skinner. You wouldn't want me to leave without giving you the information I know."
"You're going to tell ME something? I don't believe it."
"Now, that isn't fair, is it? I've helped you quite a few times. If someone didn't tell you when to reign your agents in, you would have been fired long ago."
"Really? And I thought they kept me around for my good looks."
"A joke? From the tough, no-nonsense ex-marine? Imagine that."
"Get to the point, or I'm going to throw you out of this building myself," growled Skinner. He got up and leaned on his desk, hovering menacingly over Spender. This move intimidated most of his agents, but Spender simply blew smoke in his face.
"Get out!" shouted Skinner, coming around the desk ready to grab Spender.
"Mulder is in quite a bit of danger," the smoker said quietly.
Skinner stopped, standing still as a statue. After a moment, he pulled himself together and returned to his chair behind the desk.
"Go on," he said quietly.
"What? No more idle threats of physical violence?"
"GO ON!" roared Skinner, his face turning red. He wanted to strangle Spender, tear his head off, take a knife and cut him from throat to groin – he couldn't think of enough violent acts to perpetrate on the smoker.
"You better calm down or you'll have a stroke right here," cautioned Spender. "Relax a moment – I'm feeling very generous. I'll tell you all I know."
Skinner closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to clear his mind. He wouldn't be able to help Mulder if he had a stroke. When he felt control again, he opened his eyes and sat back.
"Tell me what you know."
"Like I said, Mulder is in danger. Our favorite little traitor is headed his way even as we speak."
"You don't mean…"
"Yes, the handsome but oh so deadly Krycek is probably even now quietly stalking our favorite F.B.I. agent."
Skinner got up and started pacing. Not Krycek! Every time that rat bastard shows up Mulder gets into lots of trouble.
"Of course, he might not have murder plans for Mulder," said Spender thoughtfully. Come on, you big oaf – fall for the bait.
Skinner stopped pacing. "What do you mean? He's going after Scully?"
"No."
"Just spit it out, you no good son of a bitch!"
"Temper, Mr. Skinner, temper. This may come as a shock to you, but I have it on a very reliable source that," Spender paused and leaned forward. "Your agent Mulder is, well, gay," he whispered.
"What?" choked Skinner, trying to keep his cool. Was Spender serious? Could he really not know that Mulder and he had been lovers for the past six months?
"Surprised you, did I? I couldn't believe it myself until I saw the surveillance photos."
"Photos?" squeaked Skinner.
"Yes, of Mulder and Krycek. Some of them are quite, well, intimate." Spender could hardly contain himself. If his son hadn't been truly in danger, he would stop right here and watch the thick-necked A.D. go apoplectic over the idea of Mulder and Krycek together. "Would you like to see them?" he asked, pulling a yellow envelope out of his coat pocket.
Skinner sat and looked at the yellow envelope Spender had dropped on the desk. He hesitantly reached out for it several times, but drew back. He couldn't. He shouldn't. But, HIS Mulder, his Fox, and Krycek? Krycek had killed Bill Mulder, most likely killed Scully's sister Melissa, was instrumental in Scully's abduction, had exposed Mulder to the black oil, had done everything in his power to sabotage the X-Files. Mulder couldn't possibly have been his – he couldn't even think the word – lover?
Spender watched as the internal war raged in Skinner's head. He knew the A.D. was insecure in his relationship with Mulder when it came to his age and his baldness – who wouldn't feel inadequate compared to the charms of Alex Krycek?
No, it wasn't true, thought Skinner. A memory flashed in his mind. A couple of months ago, he and Mulder were sleeping. They hadn't made love that night because Skinner had been too tired – he couldn't get an erection. Mulder was so understanding, so sweet – they just cuddled and kissed. Skinner had awakened about 3:00 am; Mulder had kicked him in his sleep. He looked down at the dark lashes, the mole, the full lips. He loved to watch Mulder sleep. He noticed that Mulder had a hard-on, and would occasionally stroke it while he was asleep. Skinner had reached for it when he stopped at what Mulder moaned in his sleep. "Ooh, Alex…"
Alex? Who was Alex?
"Alex, stop that!" Mulder giggled slightly, still sound asleep. His erection swelled even larger. Mulder fingered his penis again. He ejaculated, then slipped into a deeper slumber.
Skinner looked at the yellow envelope again. He had convinced himself that Mulder was remembering a sexual encounter with a woman. But he knew Mulder was gay, so why would it be a woman? And what other Alex could there be? No – he would trust Mulder. Mulder would have told him if he and Krycek had been lovers. Wouldn't he?
Skinner snatched the envelope up and whipped the pictures out. He turned pale as he flipped through them. He lingered on a few – Mulder and Krycek holding hands on a park bench, Mulder leaning in to whisper in Krycek's ear; the two of them kissing, Mulder's arms around Krycek's neck; worst of all, Mulder naked, on his knees, deep-throating Krycek's cock as he sat on Mulder's leather sofa. Skinner shoved the pictures back into the envelope. He barely heard what Spender said next.
"You see now why I think Krycek may have some other goal in mind. There have been rumors reaching me that insinuate he's planning to get Mulder back as a lover. By any means necessary."
"I see," Skinner replied quietly.
"I'm giving you a heads up. You better get your agent back here right away, or there's no telling what will happen to him. Or to any petite, red-headed partners that might get in the way."
"Leave," hissed Skinner, not wanting to here anymore.
"I'll leave the pictures with you. I have my own copies," Spender said, laughing. "I haven't even shown you the best ones. There's a particularly good one of Mulder on his hands and knees, looking over his shoulder at Krycek, begging…"
"Enough! Get out!" shouted Skinner, leaping toward his office door, tearing it open. As soon as Spender cleared the door, he shouted at Kim. "No more calls or visitors!"
He slammed the door as hard as he could and locked it. He stood near the door, every part of him shaking in – grief? Anger? He didn't know. His insides were twisted up in knots.
Skinner walked over to the couch and sat on the edge. He was staring out into space – he couldn't believe his Fox had been Krycek's lover. And he hadn't told him! And now his life was in danger again from that lunatic!
Skinner slid to the floor, on his knees. He leaned his elbows on the coffee table and covered his face with his hands.
It took him a while to realize that he was crying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cape Fear Diner
Tuesday, August 10th
7:00 pmScully watched her partner push the mash potatoes around on his plate. He had been withdrawn all afternoon; she finally had to drag him down to the diner. "Mulder, eat."
Mulder looked up at the sound of her voice. "Hm? Oh, I'm not hungry, Scully."
"Mulder, you haven't had anything since lunch and that you throw-up. Eat," she said sternly.
Mulder sighed, "Yes, Ma'am." He didn't want Scully worrying about him anymore than she usually did, so he forced down a forkful of potatoes, nearly gagging in the process.
"Mind if I join you?" Agent Stark asked, sliding into the booth next to Mulder before either agent could protest, forcing Mulder to scoot over in the small seat as the larger man's body sandwiched him against the wall and pressed hotly against his side. Stark smiled. He had never gotten this close to the lovely Fox before. The beauty smelled so good, better than the food in this dump.
"Agent Stark, how was your fishing today?" Mulder inquired, taking the opportunity to put his fork down and push his plate away.
"My pole and I didn't catch a thing all day. Maybe we'll have better luck later tonight," he said amicably, his eyes trailing lustfully over Mulder's body while he stroked himself through the thick fabric of his jeans underneath the table. Being this close to Mulder was making him hot and horny.
Mulder nodded, looking past Stark, he noticed for the first time that everyone in the crowded diner kept glancing over at their table. "You must really enjoy fishing to be going back to the river at night," Mulder said absently, then leaned over the table and whispered to Scully. "Hey, don't look now, but all the men here seem to be checking you out."
Stark overheard Mulder and glanced slowly around the diner before returning his attention back to Mulder and their fishing discussion. "Fishing can be unbelievably satisfying. There's nothing more thrilling than landing a real fighter on the end of my pole, one that wiggles and puts up a struggle before surrendering to my superior strength and prowess." His hand squeezed his cock harder as an image of Mulder impaled and wiggling on his pole excited him further.
Scully hadn't missed Stark's thinly veiled innuendo toward her partner or that his hand was doing something under the table. She purposely knocked her spoon onto the floor and bent to retrieve it, looking under the table at the same time. She scowled in disgust as she watched the stocky agent fondle himself. When Scully sat back upright she looked around the diner, Mulder was right they seemed to be the center of attention. It was probably courtesy of Stark playing with himself in public.
"Agent Stark, may I have a word with you in private?" Scully asked, giving him one of her iciest stares, the one usually reserved for murders and the dregs of society.
"Now?" Stark asked incredulously. He was getting off on the feel of Mulder's firm, hot body pressed against his.
"Now!" Scully hissed.
Mulder cringed at Scully's tone; he'd dismissed her earlier claim that Stark was interested in him sexually. He hadn't missed the way Stark's eyes had checked out the pretty women in the diner. Mulder also knew there was no way to dissuade Scully from having a talk with Stark. His partner could be so stubborn at times. When would she ever learn that he was usually always right about people? Well, if Scully wanted to embarrass herself, who was he to stand in her way?
"Ah, Scully, if you want to be alone you can talk here, I need to get back to my notes," Mulder said, motioning that Stark should let him out, he tossed twelve dollars on the table to cover his untouched meal then slid out. Once Mulder was standing he bent down and whispered into Scully's ear. "Scully, I really think you're going to make a fool of yourself. Stark is so straight. Trust me on this."
"Mulder, go."
Mulder shrugged his shoulders and headed for the door, but before he could reach his destination he was intercepted by one of the waitresses carrying a large paper sack.
"Honey, we couldn't help but notice that you didn't finish your meal. Marty packed you up a snack for later tonight if you get hungry." The tall, bleached-blond waitress handed him the sack and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Ah, you didn't have to go to the trouble, Maria." Mulder blushed as he felt every eye in the diner focused on him.
"Nonsense, you're a guest in our town, Sweetie, and it looks like you could use to gain a few pounds," Maria said as her eyes drank in Mulder's body lustfully.
"MARIA, PICK UP!" Marty shouted from the kitchen, ringing the bell with his spatula. What was that girl thinking? If Alexander saw her hitting on his man, he'd kill her on the spot. Marty shook his head and went back to cooking.
Mulder turned and rushed out the door clutching the paper sack as Maria sashayed back toward the kitchen.
Scully and Stark had both been watching the scene with interest. After Mulder departed they turned back to face each other.
"Okay, Scully, I'm all ears," Stark said, leaning back in the booth with his arms spread out over the back and a foot propped up on Scully's seat.
Scully glared down at his dirty boot that was blocking her in the booth. Then she looked into Stark's eyes and said calmly, "Agent Stark, I'll get right to the point. Mulder isn't gay and he's definitely not the slightest bit interested in men. You are wasting your time pursuing him. So I'd suggest that you leave him alone."
Stark laughed. "You have some balls, Scully. You're not doing Mulder any favors by sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong. It's obvious the man is lonely and in need of companionship. The type he's not going to get from any woman."
He leaned forward as if to tell her a secret. "I'm not the only one interested in Mulder there is a bunch of agents at the Bureau who have a pool going to see who can get inside of Mulder's pants first?" Stark laughed even harder at the venomous look on Scully's face -- it was priceless. He''d give her credit; she sure was protective of Mulder. "I'll tell you one more thing, Scully, I intend to win that pool. Then I'm going to use the money to take the lovely Fox to the Bahamas where we can spend the days sunbathing *nude* and *fucking* like bunnies on the hot white sands."
"Leave Mulder alone, Stark!" Scully growled. "If you continue to harass him I will file a complaint with A.D. Skinner!"
"Jealousy isn't a good look for you, Scully. What's your problem? Mulder's not your child! He's a grown man and can make up his own mind. If he tells me to get lost, I will definitely respect his wishes." Stark had no intention of doing any such thing. He was here with one purpose only and that was to get inside Fox's pants and fuck his sweet brains out.
"Mulder is in the middle of a tough case, and he doesn't need your unwanted attention right now. Just leave him the hell alone, Stark! Okay?"
"You know what your problem is, Scully? You need to find yourself some docile little man to boss around, a man who'd occasionally fuck your frigid cunt." Stark hauled himself out of the booth.
"Bastard!" Scully hissed.
"Bitch," Stark countered happily and headed toward the door whistling tonelessly.
Scully sulked angrily, and paid little attention to the bearded man with the large nose who had been sitting in the booth next to theirs as he followed Stark out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mulder grabbed the phone as he glanced over at the clock. Nine o'clock, shit, he had to leave for the Spender plantation within the hour. "Mulder."
"Fox, Walter."
"Oh, Walter! God, sorry I forgot to call you. I was working on the case and lost track of time. Sorry."
"Fox, are you alone?" Skinner asked suspiciously.
"Yeah, Walter, the coast is clear. We don't have to watch what we say; Scully turned in early. She and Agent Stark had some words earlier."
"Fred Stark? What is he doing down there?"
"He's here on vacation doing a little fishing. Walter, you're going to laugh when you hear this. Scully thinks the man is hot for my bod!" Mulder said chuckling. "Scully really must have pissed Stark off because he told her that there was a betting pool going on at the bureau, on which agent could get inside my pants first. Have you ever heard of anything more outlandish?"
Skinner sat up straight in the chair his fingers digging into the phone. "Did Stark say who was in this pool?" he growled.
"Why? He clearly made it up to get back at Scully for accusing him of being gay."
"Fox, you are so clueless," Skinner sighed, his main reason for calling momentarily forgotten.
"What do you mean, Walter?"
"Scully's right, Stark wants you. I even had to threaten him last time I saw him lurking around the basement."
Mulder fell backward on the bed and covered his eyes. "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick."
"Save it for later, Fox. I'll talk to Stark when he gets back in town. I think a nice transfer is in order for him." Skinner took a deep breath and plowed ahead on the real purpose of his call. "Fox, I had a visitor today, and he dropped off some interesting photographs."
Mulder frowned as he heard the strain in his lover's voice. "Walter, who? What's wrong."
"It was the smoker. Why didn't you ever tell me about you and Krycek?" Skinner tried to keep the rage out of his voice.
"Damn," Mulder moaned.
"Damn is right! Fox, do you have any fucking idea what it was like to sit there and look at a photograph of you sucking that rat-bastard's cock while that cancerridden son of a bitch sat there smirking?" Skinner snarled.
"Walter, I couldn't tell you. Please, don't be angry. I've been so embarrassed about what happened between myself and Krycek -- I never wanted you to find out. I didn't want you to see what a complete fool I was for falling for Krycek's bullshit.
"Fox, you should have told me! Dammit! I don't want there to be any secrets between us!"
Mulder flinched at the anger in his lover's voice. "Walter, I'm sorry. It's in the past. It's you I love and it's you I want. I hate that lying, doublecrossing rat!"Skinner relaxed and leaned back in his chair; Fox's words of love and commitment had slightly soothed the ache in his heart. "Promise me that you'll never keep anything from me again."
"Walter, I promise to tell you about all my past boyfriends, when I'm come back home. It's a short list so it shouldn't take long," Mulder quipped. "Are you mad at me?"
Skinner sighed, "I'm upset that you didn't trust me enough to tell me about this part of your life. I love you, Fox. The mere thought of you and Krycek together sickens me, but you're right it is the past. Fox, Spender said that Krycek was in Cape Fear."
"He's here? Why?" Mulder's voice shook slightly. It was bad enough that he had to deal with Alexander, but to have to deal with Alex as well made his stomach tie in knots, but at least the former he could kill.
"Spender thinks he wants to resume your relationship, and he's willing to use any means necessary to get you back."
"Not fucking likely," Mulder snorted sarcastically.
"Fox, I'm coming down there in the morning. We'll deal with him together."
"No! Walter, there is no reason for you to come down here." He didn't want his lover anywhere near Cape Fear, Krycek, or Alexander -- especially Alexander.
"I think there is, Fox. You can't head a murder investigation and keep looking over your shoulder for Krycek at the same time," Skinner growled.
"You just said Krycek wasn't here to kill me. That is if Krycek is really here at all and the smoker isn't just yanking your chain. Think about it, Walter. Spender wants me off this case and out of Cape Fear, what better way to go about it than to show my lover old photographs of me in bed with one of his worst enemies?"
"Spender doesn't know we're lovers, Fox."
"Yeah right, Walter, and I have a bridge in Brooklyn I want to sell you."
Skinner closed his eyes and sighed, "Damn, he knows doesn't he? I'm an idiot."
"You're not an idiot, Walter, you just didn't want to believe he would know about us, too."
"Why didn't he just use our affair as a means to force me to pull you from the case?"
"I don't know, Walter? Maybe he is trying to catch us in a more compromising position, and that's why he tried to trick you into coming down here. I don't think you should come, not if it is part of the smoking bastard's plan."
Skinner pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. He wanted to rush to his lover's side. However, if that was what Spender wanted then he couldn't go. "Fox, nothing matters to me more than you, be careful. I'm going to alert the Raleigh-Durham field office and SAC Morgan that Krycek may be in your area."
"That's for the best," Mulder sighed with relief, noticing the clock. "Walter, I think I'll turn in now. Love you."
"Love you too, Fox. Night."
Upstairs Krycek fumed. Spender had ratted him out to Skinner, but there was nothing baldy could do to help Mulder, not against him or Alexander. Krycek had read Boris Kriuchek journal that Fox had hidden in his room, he knew that it was hopeless to fight the ghost. Krycek would win though; he planned to take Fox across the ocean and back to Russia with him. "Foxy, we will resume our relationship, but it will be on my terms this time around."
Krycek sat in front of the monitor, waiting to watch Mulder strip for bed, but the agent grabbed his keys instead and cautiously opened the outside door and slipped out. "Shit, Fox, what are you up to?" he growled jumping to his feet he raced over to the window and watched as Mulder climbed into the yellow station wagon and drove off in the direction of the Spender Plantation. He was about to dash out to follow him, when he noticed Agent Stark rushing for his car. He let the other man leave first before following.
~~~~~~~~~
Mulder glanced anxiously up at the manor house as he parked the yellow station wagon in front and turned off the headlights. Their bureau car was still parked in the driveway. Agent Piquet was going to have it towed tomorrow and drop off a new car for them at the motel.
He walked up the steps to the wraparound porch and was surprised to see that the main floor windows were aglow. By the way the light flickered he knew that it must be candle light. The door to the manor house opened before he could touch the knob and he entered submissively. He could do nothing but give himself up to the inevitable.
Alexander solidified and he pulled Mulder into his arms and kissed him sweetly. "Fox, my beloved. Please, join me in toasting to our future together," the ghost purred, guiding Mulder into the brightly lit parlor. Candles covered every surface. Even the fireplace had candles inside it and a plush rug spread out before it with two glasses of dark red wine setting on a tray.
"Remove your clothes, my pet, I want to see you strip for me." The gypsy sank down on the plush rug and picked up the two glasses of wine, he slowly sipped from one.
Fox glanced around his father's favorite room. "Alexander, what if father should come home?"
Alexander smiled up at him; he enjoyed when his beloved slipped back into Fox Spender. Although, he was enjoying the fiery spirit and backbone that his new incarnation possessed. "Fox, your father is on a trade mission to Raleigh he won't be back until late tomorrow, we have the whole house to ourselves."
"What about the house slaves?" Fox asked, as he hesitantly unfastened the binding on the strange shoes he was wearing. They had strange print on them 'Nike' he wondered how he came by them.
"They won't disturb us, Fox." Alexander said softly, his eyes glowing with desire.
Stark had parked his car behind a grove of trees off the main road and he hiked up to the old manor house. He shined his flashlight on the ground watching his step. He saw Mulder's car parked out front and wondered whom the other car belonged to. The house was dark except for the lights coming from the lower windows. Stark snuck around to the back, finding steps leading up to the darkened porch. He crept up steps and eased his way to one of the lit windows and glanced inside.
"Fuck," he gasped, getting an eyeful of a gloriously naked Fox Mulder. Stark's penis jumped inside his jeans. "Wow, what a babe. Little Freddie, we are going to party harty tonight." Stark's eyes narrowed as he spied a beautiful man sitting on a rug in front of the fireplace. The man was stroking his hard cock. He looked familiar to Stark. The stocky agent turned his attention back to Mulder. Stark's cock throbbed in the tight confines of his pants as he watched Mulder sink down on the edge of the rug and crawl on his hands and knees over to the other man, kissing and lapping the head of his penis. Stark wiped at the saliva dripping down his chin as his eyes locked on the firm, ivory buttocks, and an incredible, long cock with heavy balls hanging from between deliciously toned thighs. Mulder was even better put together than Stark had imagined. He checked his belt for his gun. Mulder was his and he was not about to share him.
*Click.*
Stark swallowed at the sound of a gun cocking and the cold barrel pressing into the side of his neck, then a hand slipped under his shirt, removing his gun.
"Mister, we don't take kindly to Peeping Toms in our town," the man growled. "Now move."
Krycek watched from his hiding place in the woods as Sheriff Dmitry Kriuchek hauled Agent Stark off. He knew the whole town was involved in keeping Mulder here and preparing him to be sacrificed during the next full moon. The diner was putting powders into Mulder's meals the powders had been given to them by the elders. He had no idea what they were for. Krycek stared fearfully up at the house that had haunted his nightmares for nearly two decades. He needed to see what was happening to Mulder in that house.
"Fox, drink," Alexander purred, holding the wineglass to his younger lover's lips.
Awareness and fear came into Mulder's eyes as he awoke to find himself straddling Alexander's hips and the throbbing presence of a cock filling his rectum. A wineglass was pressed against his lips.
"Drink," the ghost commanded.
Fox fearfully opened his mouth and took a sip, and he immediately spit it out. "That's not wine. What is it?"
"Honey and herbs and Ivan Tadinov," Alexander smiled, taking a large mouthful then he sealed his lips over Mulder's.
Mulder struggled for breath as Alexander forced that foul concoction into his mouth. He couldn't breathe through his nose there was something pinching it closed, so he had no choice but to swallow that nasty brew. Alexander slowly fed the whole blood cocktail to him this way, by the time it was over Mulder was feeling lightheaded and his erection was pressing painfully against Alexander's belly.
"Why?" Mulder choked out. The ghost was keeping him upright with his strong arms were wrapped around Mulder's waist.
"The blood binds you to me, Fox, and the herbs are an aphrodisiac they will keep you aroused all night long. Ivan's sacrifice has given me added strength for this evening. Don't worry, Beloved; I will set you free before dawn, just return to me at dusk." Alexander rocked his hips driving his cock deeper into his lover's body. He suddenly rolled until Mulder was on his back with his long legs wrapped around Alexander's hips.
Krycek stood still outside the window watching as his ghostly double fucked his property. He clenched his fists in rage! Why had he waited so long to come to claim Fox? He hadn't been afraid of CGB Spender's hollow threats. He should have taken Fox away years ago. Krycek closed his eyes, he couldn't watch this any longer, and he couldn't help Fox. In his heart he knew that Mulder wouldn't be harmed until the full moon on the 26th of this month. Sixteen days to figure out a way to rescue Mulder. He couldn't just snatch him, Mulder was being watched too closely by the elders and Alexander. He wouldn't make it past the city limits with him.
Turning, Krycek faded down the porch steps into the darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Stark glared angrily at the back of the sheriff's head when it suddenly came to him. "I remember where I've seen that man before."
The sheriff stiffened then looked in the rearview mirror. "Who are you talking about, mister?"
"There was a dark-haired man who sort of looked like you, at the manor house with Agent Mulder," Stark said.
"And who do you think he is?"
"I don't think, I know! He's Alex Krycek. You have to go back and arrest him. The FBI has a warrant out for him," Stark said firmly.
The sheriff vaguely remembered Alex Krycek; his cousin had come with his family to visit Cape Fear nineteen years ago. So he was a wanted fugitive? Dmitry wondered what he was wanted for. "You think this Alex Krycek resembles the man you saw in the house?"
"He looks exactly like him. Look, Sheriff, I've already told you that I'm FBI. You're going to have a shit load of trouble when my superiors find out that you prevented me from arresting a wanted felon," Stark growled.
"Mister, that's not what happened and you know it. However, I'm willing to drop the charges if you get your ass out of my town. I'll even go back out to the plantation and check on this man you saw," Dmitry said, pulling into the motel's parking lot.
Stark smiled, he figured he won this one. Mulder was about to get his little party interrupted, and he now knew that Mulder liked to suck cock. "I can't leave town without my car and that's back at the plantation."
The sheriff swore under his breath. "I'll have my deputy drive you back for it in the morning, now get the fuck out of the car!" He wanted to kill the arrogant son of a bitch, but the bastard was an FBI agent and that would bring all the Feds down on them.
Stark climbed out of the car and strolled over to the door to his motel room. His mind was whirling with this new information and how to use it to get what he wanted -- Mulder. He remembered Alex Krycek from the Hoover Building when the man had been an agent. Krycek had been the subject of much speculation from the gay FBI underground. But, Krycek disappeared before anyone had discovered which way he swung. Then a warrant had been issued for his arrest. That was four long years ago. Stark wondered if Mulder and Krycek had been involved throughout those years. Mulder could get his ass kicked out of the Bureau and thrown in jail if it got out that he was having an affair with a wanted fugitive.
Stark smiled. He would come to Mulder's rescue after the Sheriff arrested him and Krycek, then he'd convince that hayseed to release Mulder into his custody. Mulder would have to do whatever he wanted or face being exposed to the Bureau. Life was good, Stark thought.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington D.C.
Tuesday October 10th
9:30 p.m.Smoke was a blue cloud in the darkened room. A cigarette burned in a populated, black ashtray. The paper curled away from the tobacco, as it lay forgotten for the moment. Spender stared out the window. The moon was waxing, nearly full, and it crouched in the sky like some careless beast. It would be full on the night his son was to be murdered, he mused. Skinner was still in D.C. and Krycek had not yet reported. Worse still his plans for ending the curse were not going well. The woman who had been given to him to perform the ceremony had assured him that her skills would be sufficient to end the ancient curse, and yet when he had shown the old bitch the bones of his enemy she had begun to laugh hysterically, calling him a fool. She had danced about a moment holding those small pieces of Alexander's mortality held to her chest. When he had had enough of her prancing and mad laughter he had grabbed her frail shoulders and in his coldest tone he warned her not to play games with him, to follow his instructions or suffer the consequences. The old creature just chuckled before handing him the bones.
"They are yours, sir assassin, they are yours," she crooned, a small seductive smile on her withered lips.
"Yes, they are mine, mine to use against Alexander…"
"No, they are of you. You hold nothing. Nothing but the bones of the source of the curse. They are yours."
CSM remembered her look. It had been one of the highest amusement. "The source is Alexander…I know all this you old witch," he had hissed.
"Alexander is not the source but merely the avenger. You have nothing that you could not find right here," she touched one of his hands. With this last she had sat, huddled against the dark thoughts that enveloped her as she rocked in her gleeful madness.
CSM stared at the hand she had touched. The nicotine stained fingers long and capable. He nodded at the young man who had stood quiet in the doorway. "Take her to her rooms," he whispered, wondering what the woman had meant. He had been assured that these bones were the key. He had contacts in the FBI field office, a mole who had been able to find the whereabouts of the remains. He had been instrumental in getting information from the close-knit community. The sound of the woman's cackling faded as he lit a cigarette. He stared at the old bones. They had been Carbon tested. The result had proven that they were indeed as old as the curse. The exact age of the bones matched the year Alexander had been murdered by CSM's own ancestor. The gypsies that had aided his contact in finding the bones had all been taken care of soon after their cooperation and so could not be questioned. A mistake perhaps.
Sitting now in the darkened room, he wondered what the crone had meant. The source of the curse? Of course it was Alexander. Who else? Still he planned on bringing her to Cape Fear. Mad though she was, she had the skill to perform the ceremony. The small sound of his cigarette falling into the ashtray earned no more than a small glance. The soft chime that indicated he had received electronic mail grabbed his attention away from the lazy moon. It was from Agent Piquet, his source.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spender Plantation
Cape Fear
Tuesday, August 10th
11:30 p.m.Fox lay in his lover's arms, their breathing slowing and his eyes searched the ceiling, frowning.
"What is it, Beloved?" Alexander whispered against Fox's ear. His sweet lover was so beautiful, so trusting. He could almost remember how it felt to live with only happiness when he held Fox like this.
"Father's gone? We never made love in here before. Why now? What is happening, Alexander? Why are we here?"
Alexander stared down at the troubled face. When Fox's presence was inside the lovely agent, he looked so much younger, more fragile. He traced the line of Fox's jaw, pausing to move over the mole that placed itself so seductively beside the sexy mouth. He bent to kiss those rips lips and Fox turned his head.
"No," Fox whispered.
Though Alexander found it excessively easy to force the feisty agent to his will, it was impossible for him to do anything that would disturb his sweet love. "Fox…" he whispered.
"This is wrong. This is not supposed to happen," Fox said shakily.
"We are supposed to be together forever," Alexander soothed.
"Why am I afraid of you? Why do I think you want to hurt me?" Fox stared at his lover whose eyes were not as gentle as he remembered. There was a fire in their jade depths that was wrong somehow.
"I would never hurt you, Beloved. I would kill for you. Please don't be afraid. Soon we will be together for all eternity like I promised you." Alexander was experiencing the strangest feelings. Long forgotten feelings of concern and tenderness. Rage so long a part of him warred with the purity of the love that had been changed over the centuries into something akin to obsession. He stared at his frightened lover. He was always so sure in life that this beautiful creature would never be without his protection, his love. Now Fox was staring at him in fear and confusion.
"You won't let them hurt me? You'll protect me then? I want to go…I don't want to be here. Please, my love…let me go…come with me," Fox was near tears, looking so young. He didn't understand where he was or what he was afraid of, but he was terrified.
Alexander felt the forgotten sensation of tears on his face, but he shook his head. "I'll never let you go. Not in a thousand years of holding you." He held tight as Fox shuddered. "Forever," he promised.
Fox pulled away and stood up. "This isn't where I am supposed to be. You aren't my Alexander. My Alexander would never want to hurt me…never let anyone else hurt me."
As Alexander watched Fox's face changed, eyes once torn with love and fear stared hard at him and the chin tilted up. It was his sweet agent again. He mourned the loss of his gentle Fox, he wanted Fox to accept what was happening, but it was easier to deal with him as he was now. The candlelight cast romantic shadows on Fox's slim body. Muscles were more prominent on this frame, more strength and determination in the face. More critical assessment in those haunting eyes, but it was his love for all that. Born again for him alone.
"I am going to get dressed now, and you are going to stay away from me," Mulder growled. "I've played your whore enough for the night. And you stay away from my partner, or I swear that I'll find away to destroy you!"
The words, the angry words, so unlike his gentle love made Alexander smile as he rose. Now this he could handle. He enveloped the pretty body and captured the plump lips in a fierce kiss. "You are no whore, my beautiful lover, but you are mine. When we are together finally I only hope that something of you as you are now remains. I find your fire so stimulating. Sweet Fox. Trusting Fox. And now," he chuckled. "Finally, sly Fox." He trailed the sharp hook down the graceful spine until it rested between the round buttocks, its sharp tip scraping at the tender, used flesh of Fox's anus. He slid the tip in ever so gently as Fox/Agent gasped and trembled. He curved the metal in a bit further as Fox/Agent went rigid in fear. "You don't make the rules, baby. I do." With that he faded away and Mulder was left to stand on his own, the sensation of cold metal inside him slowly fading. He sank to his knees and held his face in his hands. He wanted to run to D.C. To Walter. Walter would hold him. Walter would protect him, but who would protect Walter? He started to cry and then with a curse he stood and gathered his clothes. He would find a way to stop this. He would! He ran from the house and the candles were snuffed out by a laughing breeze as he slid into his pants. He drove recklessly back to the motel and the relative safety of his room there. He hurried into the shower and refused to cry as the hot water washed off the smell of sex. The hell of it was that some part of him longed to rush back to Alexander. He was his lover. He needed Fox. He had died for him, had loved him so well for so long. They should have run away when they had a chance, Mulder thought. He should have made Alexander leave with him sooner. These thoughts confused Mulder. What was happening to him? He was slipping in and out of reality, as if some other person existed inside him, had always existed inside him. The part of him that viewed the world with childlike innocence and wonder. The part of him that believed in everything and longed for love. He stepped out of the shower with the resolution to fight whatever it was that was happening to him. He would find a way to end this and return to the only person he loved with all his heart. As he dried off he mourned for Alexander. He had been the best of everything. He had been the brightest star in the heavens and had made Fox feel as safe as he had ever felt.
"Dammit, it isn't real. Why am I thinking it is?" He cursed. "It happened two hundred years ago. I never knew the bastard."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Krycek watched as Mulder struggled with himself. He would need such tender ministrations to forget this once Alex took him away. Tender ministrations and domination. He licked his lips as Mulder dried between his legs, up and over the sweet redolent cock, between the full cheeks and over the tender anus. He groaned as Mulder hissed as the cloth stroked his well-used anus. He would always feel that tenderness once Alex took him away. He'd have to kill Skinner to keep the bastard from following. And oh yes, the lovely Dana Scully too. She would definitely have to die. He wanted to see her eyes go wide as he placed the gun between them. Bang! Lights out bitch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mulder slipped on a soft pair of jeans and was getting his case file together when there was an insistent knock on his door. Thinking it was Scully he rushed to open it. He blinked in surprise to see Agent Stark. The realization that this man actually had the hots for him made him flush in embarrassment.
"Stark. What are you doing here?"
"Did they arrest him?"
"What? Who?" Mulder shook his head in confusion and tiny droplets of water slid down his face. He took the towel he was holding and rubbed it through his hair.
Stark shoved his way inside the room and Mulder opened his mouth to protest when Stark's words silenced him. "Krycek. I saw him with you. Or rather I saw you crawling on your hands and knees to suck his cock," Stark growled. Little Freddy jerked in response to the remembered scene.
Mulder's jaw dropped but then he snapped it shut. He had had quite enough of being treated like some brainless slattern. "I think you have lost it, Stark."
"I saw you, bitch," Stark whispered fiercely.
Mulder did drop his jaw at that. Bitch? Some man, a fellow agent had called him a bitch. It would be hysterically funny if he weren't so stressed. "You have a serious problem, Stark. But let me assure you that I am neither inclined to humor you, nor concerned about your opinion."
"Did they arrest him?" Stark said again, his eyes devouring the fetching sight of Mulder still damp from his shower.
Mulder shook his head. "Krycek is the last man I'd get on my knees for, perhaps with the exception of you. Now get the hell out of my room before I…"
"Before you what, slut?" Stark growled as he pointed his gun at Mulder's face. His reason had left him and all he could think about was getting Fox. Getting him good.
"Put the gun away, Agent Stark. You don't want to do anything rash. Think. You're an agent of the federal government, not some criminal. Put the gun down and walk away," Mulder said in his calmest tone.
"You think you know what I want?" Stark laughed a bit at that. So Mulder wanted to play it this way? Fine he could play it this way. "C'mon. We are going to take a little drive. Just you and me and little Freddy."
Mulder cocked his head. "Little Freddy?"
Stark flushed. "Move it, Fox. Or I shoot you then take out that frigid bitch after."
Mulder tensed. "You leave her out of…"
"Move it, slut. You want to spread yourself out for a fucking traitor? You need to learn a few lessons I think. I swear I'll kill that bitch before you even have time to fall to the floor, now let's go."
Mulder weighed his chances at taking the crazy agent, but quickly thought better of it. He would wait until they were away from the motel…away from Scully. Without a word he followed Stark's directions. As he slid into the driver's seat and obeyed Stark's command to drive he saw Alex Krycek…it had to be Krycek racing out of the motel. He gaped at the leather-clad dark angel and Stark had to jab him in the ribs to get him to drive off into the night. His mind whirled. Krycek was in Cape Fear. He really was. He'd seen the look in those eyes too. It was more frightening then the cold metal of Stark's gun. He had no illusions about Krycek. The man was a killer and a traitor. There was nothing redeeming about the man. Save for his beauty, a traitorous voice whispered in his mind. Oh God, save for his incredible beauty.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Washington D.C.
Viva Towers
12:30 a.m.
Wednesday, October 11thThe dream woke him, and Skinner shuddered. There was too much blood to wash away and he cried out in rage and loss. "Fox!" Fox was dead. Slaughtered ruthlessly, his heart taken from his chest still beating. He looked about the dark room and stood shakily. "A dream, you old fool," he hissed. "Just a damn dream." The words, lonely in the bedroom startled him and he went downstairs. He stepped out on the balcony and looked at the sleeping city, taking deep and calming breaths. Mulder was a capable and clever man. He didn't need an over-protective lover breathing down his neck. The smoking bastard was playing some sort of game, and Skinner would be damned before he played along. Mulder was right about that. But, his lover had seemed so weary and distant. Skinner rubbed his smooth head. Mulder always seemed weary and distant when he was on a case like this one. He turned to go back upstairs, resolved though to do his own investigation of the events in Cape Fear. His instincts were screaming that he bring his lover back, that it wasn't a sick game, that it was real. If he found any evidence to support those feelings, he'd go down to North Carolina and bring his lover back himself. And heaven help anyone who got in his way.
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Cape Fear
Wednesday, October 11th
12:30 a.m."Take off those jeans," Stark ordered. He and Mulder stood on the cool dirt beside the river. The water gleamed like a thousand diamonds in the moonlight. Stark could see every part of Fox, save for the color of those beautiful eyes. They appeared black in the moonlight, but he knew they would be gleaming green with his repressed excitement.
"No," Mulder said calmly. "I won't."
"Do it, or I shoot," Stark warned.
"Then shoot, but I am not going to play your sick game." Mulder stood deceptively relaxed. His lips were pursed in determination and he watched Stark carefully. The man was deranged, and deranged men could be counted on to make mistakes. "You can't win, Stark. If you shoot me then you lose, if you don't…you lose."
Stark laughed. "I could shoot you on the leg, pretty. It wouldn't kill you, but it would hurt like a bitch. Now fucking strip, bitch."
"No."
"Strip."
"No. Go ahead and shoot, but you better shoot to kill, because if you don't, I'll kill you when you get close enough to touch."
Stark hesitated for a moment. Mulder's voice was so calm. He wasn't in the least bit afraid. Contrary to what he had threatened, Stark couldn't imagine shooting those gorgeous, long legs. He wanted them wrapped around him as he raped him. Rape. That was what this was he acknowledged finally. He was going to rape Spooky Mulder. The thought excited him. All the veneer of consensual sex was torn away. He wanted to hurt Mulder. To violate him in the most obscene ways. Hurt him so badly that the agent would wish he were dead. His body surged as he accepted that this was what he'd wanted all along. "I'm gonna make you scream, little Fox. And no one will hear you."
Mulder shook his head, "Go to hell, you sick twist. I've been threatened by more frightening things than you. You are nothing." His words were filled with disgust, but his eyes caught the dark shape of the high rock formation arching over the rushing waters. I died right there, he thought and he trembled.
Stark watched, amazed, as the posture of his prey changed. Fox looked around wildly, his eyes wide and frightened. "That's more like it, little whore," Stark purred.
Fox heard the words and he shook his head trying to clear it. He was so afraid. No one had ever talked to him like that before. No that wasn't right. He was an agent, he'd seen so many things, had almost died so many times. This man was nothing. A insect that he could stomp on. No. He had a gun and he was frightening. He stepped back away from the big man. "Please. What do you want?"
Stark frowned. He'd just told the little slut what he wanted. What kind of game was he playing? "Take off your fucking pants. I'm not going to tell you again." He jerked his gun in the slut's direction and he grinned as Fox gasped.
Fox turned and ran. He expected to be shot in the back but if he could just make it to Alexander he'd be safe. He found himself fumbling for his weapon, but he never carried one. He was confused, it was cold and the water beckoned him. He cried out as he was tackled from behind, the man's weight crushing him as he struggled to escape.
"Wanna play, Fox? Wanna play with me?"
"No, please. Please." Fox surprised himself by bringing an elbow up sharply into the heavy man's ribs and slamming his head back into the face of his attacker. The man howled as he rolled off and Fox got to his feet. He wanted to run but something made him dive for the man's gun. He wouldn't let some sniveling insect get the better of him. He almost reached the gun when his foot was grabbed and he was hauled back away from the strange weapon. He was rolled on his back and slapped, hard. And then again. He tasted blood on his lips and he stared up at the man who pinned him. The barrel of the gun was placed at his temple and though he wanted to cry out in fear, his mind was busily plotting his escape. It was as if some other person was inside him, someone stronger and braver than he had ever been allowed to be. Someone who knew more about pain and betrayal. This other could take care of himself, and his voice screamed for Fox to do something. To shove the gun away and fight the bastard, but Fox froze. Where was Alexander? He had to help him. Help your goddammed self! The voice screamed. But how? The man on top of him was so big and he had a gun. Fox trembled as the man tore at Fox's cheap pants. The fabric was rough and he wondered dismally why he would wear such garments. He whimpered as his penis was grasped in a rough, huge hand.
"You're so pretty, Fox."
The man was insane! Did he know who his father was? How did he dare attack a Spender? The man was bending to kiss him and Fox tossed his head. The man bit his cheek and spread Fox's legs. He bit at Fox's neck and arched to attack Fox's erect nipples.
"Shit, I want to hurt you so bad," Stark growled. The look of fear in those big eyes turned him on so much. So much. "I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before. You're gonna forget all about that traitor Krycek."
Mulder fought to regain control, but it was as if he were locked away somewhere as his body lay submissively beneath the crazy agent. Fight, damn you! He screamed. But he knew the frightened other who invaded him didn't know how…didn't comprehend the violence he was being subjected to. He couldn't work up any fury at that, the other had never known such horror, had never been touched by anyone this way. His fear and confusion was like a horrible dream.
"Please, please stop," Fox cried. His chest arched as the man bit a tender nipple. The gun was discarded as the man used both hands to lift Fox's hips from the ground. He grinned wickedly before sucking Fox's cock into his mouth, then leaving that prize to bite his way down Fox's ass. He bit at the anus with sharp teeth and he sucked wildly. Fox stared up at the manic face and he started to cry in great helpless waves.
He was finally with Fox Mulder. Finally tasting and hurting him. God he was so horny he thought he'd explode. The sobbing agent with his legs up and spread made him wild. He dropped the hips and fumbled with his own trousers. "Gonna fuck you now, baby. Gonna fuck you into the ground."
The click of metal startled him just as a gun barrel stroked at his flushed face.
"I don't really see that happening. No, I think you're going to get off of him and then I think I'll make *you* scream."
The voice was cold and Stark recognized it at once.
"Alex…Alex," Fox was sobbing now. His beautiful lover was with him now, and nothing could hurt him. He tired to cover his nudity as the evil man slowly stood at Alex's command to do so. "Alex…he was going to…and I…he wanted to…" Fox babbled.
Alex swung the gun in a ruthless arc and knocked Stark out. He stared down at Fox; his heart leaping at the welcome and love in those wide eyes that was visible even in the moonlight.
"Hold me. Hold me, please," Fox whispered.
Alex looked shocked but quickly knelt and gathered the trembling, nude body to him. He captured the ripe lips in a demanding kiss. Tasting once again the only man that drove all reason from him. He pulled Fox tight to him and let the unusually submissive agent feel his large erection. "You're mine," he hissed in Fox's mouth.
"Yes, yes. Oh, Alexander, what are we going to do about him?"
Alex froze. What was this? Did Fox think he was Alexander? He looked more closely at Fox's familiar face and he grinned. Fox looked so innocent, so trusting. "Oh yeah, I'm going to like this," he chuckled.
Fox stared up at the beloved face and he trembled, there was something dangerous there, like some ferocious beast waiting to be let out of a cage. He recoiled in fear.
Mulder shook off the bastard's arms and stood up. "You!" He hissed. "Who…what do you think you are doing here? I should kill you right here and now!"
Alex grinned. Now that was interesting. Very interesting. He held his gun up and shrugged. "I guess you could try, Agent Mulder. But then I'm the one with the gun. And you know I am not afraid to use it." He licked his lips as Mulder stiffened. "Yeah, baby, you know what I am. You know I'm more dangerous than this piece of carrion. Why don't you run on back to Scully? I'm not ready for you just yet."
Mulder glared and searched around for his pants. He put them on quickly and before he retreated to the bastard Stark's car, he hissed, "When this is over, Krycek, I'm going to see you get what you deserve."
Krycek nodded. "You really will, baby, you really will."
Mulder didn't spare Stark a second glance, though later as he drove to the motel he wondered almost frantically why he had left the bastard with Krycek. He couldn't answer that; it was too much like pulling the trigger himself.
Krycek toed the unconscious agent. "Wake up, shit. I'm going to show how to really play. My Fox. My game."
A wind stirred the trees around him and something dark watched him, considering him and his possessive words. Alexander had been there to see the image of himself tear the rapist from his sweet Fox. He would have moved then to kill the rapist, but his double intrigued him. He swirled incorporeal near the kneeling man, and smiled as his double pulled out a wicked knife. Oh yes. He was most intrigued. He watched long into the night as the rapist screamed and begged for mercy, and it was his whispered suggestion to his double that spurred the skilled killer to drag the mutilated corpse to the river. And it was he who ensured the body went deep and lay trapped under submerged roots to stay forever. It was he who took the man's castrated penis as a trophy to show his beloved how safe he was from the man. He watched his double search around for that fat bit of flesh and he chuckled audibly before leaving once more. His spirit called back to his remains, hidden in the plantation house.
Krycek heard the faint sound of a man laughing and it sounded eerily like his own laugh. He washed the blood from his body and cleaned his knife of the bits of flesh and blood still clinging to it. The bastard Stark would never touch something that belonged to him again that was certain. Now if he could only have Skinner under his knife. Skinner who didn't have to force Fox to give him what belonged to Krycek. He looked at the sky and smiled. A storm was coming. Even as he thought it, rain began to fall and he watched, smiling darkly as the rain washed the shore clean of the puddles of blood.
He made his way to his car and sat there considering Fox's first reaction to him. Could it be that somehow the too-gentle, too-frail Fox Spender was somehow able to manifest himself inside the wonderful Agent Mulder? Oh he hoped so. That look on his face was priceless. He really believed that no one had ever seen Fox Mulder look so helpless and submissive. God he wanted that look again. He wanted everything Fox had to offer be he the gentle Spender or the feisty Mulder. He ignored his erection. In time Fox would soothe it himself.
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Washington D.C.
Viva Towers
Wednesday, October 11th
1:15 a.m.The phone woke Skinner, and he growled angrily. Would he never be able to sleep?
"This had better be good," he said angrily.
"Walter? It's Mulder."
Skinner sat up immediately. "What is it? Is something wrong? Where's Scully?"
Mulder ran a hand through his hair. "I just had a…a terrible…Stark was here. Jesus, Walter."
Skinner stood and he had to pause before he could make his voice as gentle as possible. "Talk to me."
"He really tried to…well he would have…but he didn't…shit."
"What is it? Fox, you're scaring me, baby."
"I'm fine…really. Now. I mean, I'm in my room, but Stark tried to…he attacked me." Mulder cursed himself. If Walter came down here, Alexander would kill him. If he went to Walter, Alexander would kill Scully and Walter too. If Walter knew that Krycek really was here, there would be no way he'd let Mulder stay. "I got away, but I just thought you should know."
"I am getting off the phone and coming down there."
"No, Stark said he was going to you. To tell you all about us," Fox lied quickly. "He knows about us, Walter, and he thinks he can threaten you. You need to be there when he comes. He tried to r…rape me. Please be there when he comes." His voice broke.
Walter managed to stay calm enough to soothe Fox's fears. He promised he would be there when Stark came to spread his nasty tales. He promised everything Fox needed to hear. When he could be sure that Fox was calmed down, he got off the phone. His eyes stared into the darkness and he began to plot a murder for the first time in his life. There was no remorse in him for his plans. No remorse whatsoever.
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