Beloved R5-michael-p3
Mulder raised his hands to ward off the all too real strikes of the crop. His naked state did not help his predicament.
"Look at what a catamite you are. So hard, waiting for your gypsy lover to fuck you like a woman," the elder Spender said as his crop found purchase on Mulder's still hard cock. Mulder yelped in pain and used his hands to protect his genitals. This allowed the ghost of Spender to have full rein to strike at Mulder's vulnerable shoulders.
Throughout the blows, Mulder could here the words spat like a chant, "Slut … Whore … Catamite," coming from the ghostly figure of Spender.
"ENOUGH," the word was uttered with such hatred and power that the presence of Spender's ghost was ripped from the room. From the keening sound Mulder heard, it seemed that it was a painful exit. Mulder was back in the strange shrine like room.
He looked at the glowing figure of Alex's ghost. He had placed himself in front of Mulder and was menacing the place where Spender's ghost had just stood. Mulder blinked his eyes since he thought he saw Alex's hand turn into a bloody stump and then a grisly looking hook until it once again reformed into a hand.
Mulder had by this time shaken free from the presence of Fox Spender. He quickly grabbed his clothing and ran up the stairs. He refused to acknowledge the anguished plea from Alex, "Fox, stay beloved. I will protect you. I will always protect you." Fox sank down against the cabinets in the kitchen and he swore he could hear the heart breaking sounds of weeping coming from the secret room. He put on his trousers quickly and raced upstairs to his room. He walked into the bathroom and was shocked to see the red imprints of a riding crop. They covered his shoulders and chest and one brilliant one painted his cheek.
He knew rather than heard that Scully had come to investigate her partner's hurried run upstairs.
"My God," Scully was able to gasp out as she viewed the marks on Mulder's shoulders and back. She could tell they came from some form of strap or belt but she could not make herself believe that they actually came from them.
"Mulder, did you fall or something," she said weakly.
"Yeah, Scully I fell," Mulder said sartorially as he caught her eye in the mirror. She saw the fading imprint of something. A strap, she thought to herself with shock. Unable to resist the reality of what had happened to her partner, Scully fell into the comfortable roll of physician. She quickly examined Mulder and even as she noted the marks they began to fade.
"Mulder, what caused this?" she said as she ran a delicate finger around the border of the mark on his face.
"Our old friend, CSM. Or rather his ancestor. I guess we both had the misfortune to meet that bastard," he didn't add that the ghost had found them both naked.
"Scully, there is a secret room in what was the cold cellar of this house. I need you to come with me or I'll think I've gone crazy," Mulder told his partner. He could tell by the stern look on her face that he would have to do a lot of convincing.
"Scully, you really have to see this room. I believe it plays a vital role in these ritual killings," he said empathetically.
To his surprise, Scully immediately agreed, "Okay, Mulder let's take a look. Why don't you put some more clothes on and we'll check it out. Give me a second to change," Scully said as she left for her room. Mulder quickly changed into a sweat shirt, sweat pants and sneakers. He grabbed a large flash light and his gun.
He met a similarly dressed Scully in the hallway. Her gun was held in her hand like a natural extension of her arm. Together they walked down the stairway back toward the kitchen. Mulder felt a twinge of dread but it was more from the words spat out by Spender's ghost then from the presence of Alex's ghost.
Once in the kitchen, Mulder directed Scully toward the cellar. She smirked and indicated he go first. He sighed and began to walk down. Their flashlights illuminated the dark cellar. Mulder walked toward the old trunk. It was back in place as was the carpet. From the dust around the carpet it looked as if it had not been moved in a hundred years. Mulder bit his lip in consternation, he clearly remembered his lover move that trunk to reveal the hidden chamber. Lover? Mulder thought with annoyance. Walter was is in DC. The unwanted thoughts of Fox Spender seemed to strong here as they were at the river.
Walking over to the trunk he pushed the dusty piece of furniture. When he moved the carpet the trapdoor was once again revealed. He reached down and opened the door expecting to be greeted by the illuminated room. Instead, he stared down into the inky darkness. He motioned Scully to follow him.
They made their way down. The room looked oppressively like a tomb. Mulder felt Scully's hand on his arm and realized she felt unease down here as well. Scanning his flashlight around the room he was shocked. All of the candles that had been lit were cold and covered in cobwebs. He wished he had brought matches. On cue, Scully placed a box in his hand. He was grateful once again for her thoroughness. He began to light candles. As the room was filled with light the cold, gloominess was replaced by the golden light of the candles.
It was so quiet that Mulder almost jumped when he heard Scully yell, "MULDER." She was pointing to the painting against the wall. He looked again at the painting of his long dead ancestor. While the likeness should have shocked him, he felt more disgust that he was truly CSM's son. Scully had moved to the painting as if she needed to prove that it existed.
"Mulder, this could have been taken of you today. Granted, the clothes are not to your taste but the face. The body is more frail. How did this get here?" she demanded of no one in particular.
"Scully, this is a painting of my ancestor. Fox Spender," Mulder said sadly. He could tell by Scully's stiffened posture that she found the news as repugnant as he did.
"Mulder, this could be a plant. CSM has done worse. This could be some new tactic to attack you, us, the X-Files. How better then to link you to a series of murders," she said angrily.
"Scully, you know that isn't true. The Consortium can do many things but can they fake the age of that painting? The dust? The age of this room," he replied to her finding it odd playing the prosaic member of their partnership. "And I am linked to these murders or at least my ancestors are. I'm a Spender," he said with resignation.
"I still don't believe it," Scully said weakly. He turned to look at her partner and she felt such sadness for him. This room proved beyond a doubt that their greatness nemesis was indeed his father. She also realized that all the rage she had focussed on the man who had her killed her sister, who had infected her was her best friend's father. She walked over to Mulder and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "How do think this room plays into the murders?" she asked.
"This was a hideaway. This was a place that Fox Spender could get away and spend time with his lover. He had a lover that his father did not approve of so they had to meet here," Mulder told her. He could piece all of this together from the visions and dreams he had.
"Mulder, many slave owners had relationships with their slaves or rather they raped them at their pleasure. Why would the father disapprove?" Scully asked confused.
"It wasn't a slave that Fox Spender was having an affair with and I doubt he would have taken advantage of one anyway. Fox Spender was having an affair with a man, Scully. That is why his father was so angry," Mulder finished.
"Mulder, there was a strong homoerotic trend in the 19th century. I doubt that it would have disturbed Fox Spender's father too much," she replied.
"Scully, you don't understand. Fox Spender was having an affair with someone from what his father considered a lower class," he told her. "And Fox Spender was the passive member in this relationship," he said quickly and with a flush of embarrassment to his cheeks. As recognition dawned on Scully's face, he turned to examine the rest of the room. It was had the look of a place someone wanted desperately to make special. His hand ran along a faded velvet pillow. A vision of a handsome, smiling face resting on that pillow, looking down on him as Fox pleasured his lover with his mouth came to Mulder's mind. He could feel Fox's anticipation of that thick organ impaling him in sweet agony.
"Mulder. Mulder!" Scully snapped.
"What Scully?" Mulder replied.
"Mulder, you just went blank. I think we better get out of here and check things out in the morning," as she said that she noticed the remains of Mulder's cell phone. She leaned down to pick up the pieces. It appeared as if the phone exploded. She handed what remained of the phone to Mulder. He groaned as he took the piece from Scully.
He knew Walter was going to kill him. He must have dropped it when he got undressed. The thought that he had dropped the very phone his lover had overnighted to him while he was undressing himself for a ghost made him grimace in shame. He held onto the broken phone like some talisman of his adultery as they made their way back up to their rooms.
Viva Towers
Walter was pacing the room. He had called Fox's phone several times and it didn't answer. He was beginning to worry. He decided that they might be in a bad cell site area so he would give it a few minutes before he called Scully's phone.
He sat down with scotch and thought once again of pulling his two agents out of Cape Fear. Actually, he thought of ways of getting his lover out of Cape Fear, for all that he cared about Scully nothing compared to his almost obsessive protectiveness of Mulder. He knew he there might be some work he could pull Mulder back to DC for. Then he thought of the look of recrimination on his lover's face and thought better of the idea. For all his fears he knew that it was Mulder's drive and passion that help lead Walter to love him. He would be betraying that love if he was to pull Mulder off this case out of fear. Still the lover was warring very strongly with the AD.
When he felt he had waited long enough he called Scully's cell phone. He was gratified to hear the familiar answer.
"Scully,"
"Agent Scully, this is AD Skinner, are the two of you alright? I called Agent Mulder's phone several times but didn't get an answer. I was wondering if it was a bad cell site," Walter said to Scully. He knew he was nervous because he was rambling onto her about the damn cell site.
Cape Fear
Mulder could tell by Scully's posture who was on the other end of the conversation. They had made it back upstairs when they heard Scully's phone ring in her room. They both walked in as she answered.
"No, sir it isn't a bad cell site there was a problem with Agent Mulder's phone," she said as she mouthed 'Skinner' to Mulder. He nodded his head and reached out his hand.
"Sir, do you want to speak with Agent Mulder?" Scully said. She felt she heard an unusual urgency in AD Skinner's reply. She handed the phone to Mulder and felt guilty that it wasn't her having to deal with the dressing down Mulder was to get. Skinner was aptly named. He could verbally skin his agents alive.
"Hello, sir," Mulder said into the phone.
"God, Mulder, are you okay. I've worried myself sick. Your phone kept ringing and I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to look suspicious so I had to wait to call Scully. Do you know how many years you've taken away from my life?" Walter said in a tone he hoped sounded reproachful and not whiny. He feared he ended up with whiny.
"Sorry, sir. I seem to have dropped and broken my phone. I know it was a new one and I'll replace it out of my own pocket," Mulder said. He tried to put as much emphasis on the word 'sorry' so that Walter would know that he truly was sorry for making him worry. He also knew that Walter would have a fit over Mulder breaking another piece of government property.
"Mulder, I don't give a rat's ass about the phone. I'm just worried that you are staying in a place with no land line so I have to rely on your cell phones and then you break yours. Have you tried that hotel in town again?" Walter asked. He knew the answer was no so he knew the first order of business was to get rooms or else. "Are you okay, babe?" Walter said softy in the tone that he knew Mulder would recognize as his 'Lover Walter' tone not his 'AD Skinner' tone.
"Yes, we are fine. There are some interesting leads here on the plantation. I don't think we need to move into town. I believe we will have more luck if we are here closer to the epicenter of the murders," Mulder said to his lover in a voice he hoped would convince Walter to forget about the hotel. Mulder felt he had to stay here in this house.
"Mulder, I want to speak with Scully," Walter said in a gentle but firm voice. Mulder regretfully handed the phone back to Scully knowing full well that his lover would use the leverage his partner had on him to get them to move out of the house.
"Agent Scully, Agent Mulder seems to believe that staying at the plantation house is important in solving these crimes. Do you concur?" Walter asked his lover's partner. He knew full well that from his earlier conversation with Dana that she felt that the house was affecting Mulder in a negative way. He just knew that he needed her special pull with Mulder to get them out of there.
"Sir, while I believe Agent Mulder is right that the plantation house is important to the case I believe we would function more effectively in town," Scully said to Skinner. She glanced away to avoid the look of hurt accusation on Mulder's face.
"Right. Put Agent Mulder back on the line," Walter instructed. Scully handed the phone back to Mulder who was handling it like it might turn into a snake a bite him.
"Yes sir. No, I believe it is very important for us to be here. Yes, we could accomplish these things from the town. Yes but being here at night may be very important. Sir. Sir. Alright sir, whatever you say. I do too," Mulder said glumly into the phone as he hung up. He knew to Scully that it sounded like he was getting a quick dressing down from their boss and that Skinner was not taking no for an answer on their staying at the plantation house. In reality, Walter was pretty much begging for him to move into town and that nothing Mulder said would change Walter's mind. Mulder knew he would have to move when Walter told him he loved him and he replied in kind.
"Scully, start packing. I think we will be moving into the Four Seasons in town tomorrow," he said dejectively. He didn't notice the look of relief on his partner's face.
Neither of them noticed the shadowy figure of Fox Spender's lover frowning at the thought that his lover would be leaving here. He was so angry that he had spent all of his energy casting out the hated spirit of his murderer.
Viva Towers, several hours later
Walter Skinner finally gave up on trying to sleep. He sat up in bed and once again played the last conversation he had with Mulder. They had been together long enough for Walter to sense the disappointment in Mulder's voice. He hated to have to contradict him but nothing Mulder said made him believe that staying at the plantation house was necessary. After his conversation with Scully he was becoming frightened by Mulder's obsession with the Spender plantation. His fear was compounded by that Morley smoking bastard's order to bring Mulder back. Walter could tell there was some unspoken tendril of fear coming from the bastard.
"Mulder," Walter said as he rubbed his eyes. He could still remember the sweet smile Mulder gave him as he left for Cape Fear. That wonderful smile that always made Walter flush with excitement that someone as special as Mulder would direct something so wonderful towards him. He couldn't resist and other thoughts of his absent lover came to mind. He thought of Mulder's sleek, well-muscled legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself deep inside of him. The image of Mulder's strong back glistening with sweat as Walter rode him from behind. Walter's cock quickly became engorged as he thought of his lover. With a groan of frustration he found himself stroking his cock to hardness. He could just imagine it was Mulder's full lips wrapped around his cock. Getting him hard. Walter stroked faster as he imagined how he would take Mulder. He smiled as he thought of Mulder on his back, his legs raised high in both an incredibly vulnerable and wanton pose at the same time. Walter could imagine holding those large, elegant feet in his hands as he teased Mulder's crack with his hard member. Walter moaned as his hand stroked faster on his pre-cum slicked cock. He could see Mulder's eyes close to slits when he took one of Mulder's toes in his mouth and teased it in imitation of the act he was about to commit. As he stroked himself, Walter could see Mulder displayed in front of him as he parted Mulder's leg to expose the hard, heavy sex leaking onto Mulder's stomach. And he could just imagine Mulder's mewling cry of acceptance as Walter pushed those legs back to reveal Mulder's opening.
Walter was covered in sweat as he imagined himself preparing his lover. He could see his mind self grasp his own hard member and place it at the entrance of Mulder's opening. Walter moaned as he stroked his engorged cock as he imagined how Mulder's heat would envelope him. He would look down at his lover's passion filled face as he thrust deeply into him. Walter knew he couldn't last long. One. Two. Three. Four. Five, thrusts and he was coming deep in the heat of his lover's body.
Walter lay gasping in his bed alone and groaned. He was getting so tired of using his fist as a substitute for his lover. In disgust, he quickly cleaned up himself and willed himself to sleep after making a promise to do something about Mulder and Cape Fear.
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