r2-CB-p3

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Skinner's house
6:40 p.m.

Skinner sighed as he hung up the phone. Too many bizarre events were being flung at him all at once. It greatly disturbed his customary equanimity.

The news that Mulder was involved with Krycek truly set him on edge. Here he was worried about how their sudden youthfulness affected both of them, the trauma it entailed, and now Mulder tells him that he is involved with a wanted man. He gritted his teeth in rage. He had called Mulder "irresponsible," he was sure the word grated on the agent given his sudden age regression, but he didn't care. It was irresponsible, to take on that coldblooded assassin as his lover. The thought of that ethereally beautiful youth in bed with Krycek made Skinner feel fit to kill.

He groaned inwardly. He had thought that he had been able to get his feelings for Mulder under control. It was foolhardy for him to have such feelings for an agent under his command. However, now that Mulder had taken on such a youthful appearance, it was so difficult for Skinner to not feel even more protective towards the man. His concern might seem paternal on the surface but Skinner knew better.

He would just have to get used to it. If Mulder was reluctant to give up Krycek for Scully, he certainly wasn't about to do it for Skinner. And Skinner's position was certainly precarious at best, given the way Flanagan was eyeing both his agents for his department. If Flanagan had the support of the Deputy Director, it was best that Skinner give both Mulder and Scully his full support in order to keep them with the X-files. Mulder was on edge as it was, it wouldn't do to antagonize him, and he needed all the support he could get to get himself through the trauma of his change. Skinner would just have to grin and bear it. There would be time later to deal with his feelings for the stunning young agent.

It was too bad, however, that he and Scully happened to have their rift just at the moment. Skinner surmised that they needed each other now more than they ever had in all their years together.

Hoover Building
October 19, 1999
10:35 a.m.

Mulder scowled at his new partner as he tried on his undercover clothing. Agent Tony Fiorelli grinned back at him. He was enjoying the gorgeous agent's discomfiture as he tried on the inappropriately revealing outfit.

Mulder had arrived at the Hoover building hours earlier to sit at his desk and wait for Scully. She arrived at 7:35 a.m., as was her usual habit, only to storm past him to retrieve her things from the file cabinet. She refused to listen to any of his explanations regarding Krycek, pausing only to say, "It's your life, Mulder! Feel free to wreck it, only don't expect to drag me down with you!" She didn't even mention Krycek by name; however, she gave him a dirty look as she snatched up a picture of herself and Melissa from the top of the file cabinet from when they were teenagers. Except for the shag hairstyle, Scully looked no different in the old photo from how she looked now.

Mulder then had the unenviable task of barging into Ramirez's office to demand to be taken off his "temporary assignment." His angry words soon gave way to pleading as Ramirez refused to budge. Agent Mulder was perfect for the case, he was the spitting image of what these predators looked for, he was an experienced agent who understood the first signs of trouble, he did want to catch these bastards, didn't he? She was unmoved by his arguments about the assignment ruining his career. He had only recently started looking this way, didn't she realize what this kind of assignment would do to him? How could he ever be taken seriously if he was set up as a decoy on this kind of case? She also refused to allow him to be backup, no, sorry Agent Mulder, that isn't your assignment. Mulder knew it was useless as he left her office in a rage. He couldn't help but feel she had treated him like some impudent brat.

Now he stood with Agent Fiorelli leering at him as he tried on his disguise. Unbelievably tight, unbearably short, black lycra shorts that left nothing to the imagination. A skimpy white slip of a shirt that was open to his navel. In spite of his rage at this injustice, Mulder couldn't help blushing at Fiorelli's expression.

Fiorelli came to himself with a start. He smirked at him. "Sorry, Mulder! I'm not into men, but jeez, if I was…"

Mulder glared at him. "Where the fuck do I keep my gun?" he snarled, angrily changing the subject.

"You don't need a gun, Agent Mulder. I'll cover you," Fiorelli responded. Realizing the double entendre of his words, he leered at Mulder again.

"I'll be the judge of whether I need a gun or not, Fiorelli!" Mulder ranted. He was about to call Ramirez when they were interrupted by Scully entering the office.

"Scully!" Mulder greeted her in surprise, his voice softening. She was dressed just as provocatively as he was, in a short, tight black skirt, halter and short furry jacket, and she looked just as enraged. Her new partner, a cleancut, blond Joe College type, followed awkwardly behind her.

"I'm going to have Skinner's head for putting us on this case!" she ranted.

"Skinner had nothing to do with it, Agent Scully!" A.D. Flanagan's voice boomed out from the open doorway. The two agents turned and looked at him peevishly. "I especially requested your presence on this case. There is no way we can catch these predators without the two of you. Might I remind you that innocent young men and women are being forced into despicable acts against their will, while the two of you are having tantrums about your attire? Don't you think this is a small price to pay to catch these twisted perps?"

Scully and Mulder looked glumly at each other. Without missing a beat, Scully responded, "Yes sir!" and left the office with her young partner following unhappily behind her.

Mulder glared at the A.D. "You have a nerve playing a guilt trip on us! You've got plenty of other buttercups to choose from, why'd ya have to pick on Scully and me?"

Flanagan smirked. "Interesting turn of phrase, Mulder! Is that how they talk in your neck of the woods?"

"Don't give me that bullshit!"

Flanagan paused, his face suddenly serious. "Mulder, it's a known fact that your talents are being underutilized. Why do you persist on wasting yourself on the X-files? If you came to work for me, I promise you a lot more interesting cases than playing decoy for some two-bit pimps!"

Mulder looked away. It was the same old song. Maybe because they had become so young, they were now considered fair game for being pushed around and having decisions made for them. "I'm right where I want to be, Flanagan!" he snapped, turning his head to glare at the A.D.

"Maybe," Flanagan frowned. "But I still say it's a damn waste. I think your boss is making a big mistake in encouraging your misguided attempts to solve the X-files. As my social worker daughter would say, that makes Skinner a bit of an enabler, in my opinion."

He took out a folder. "The two of you are to report to this location this afternoon. It's right behind the bus station, where runaway teenagers arrive in the city every day. Fiorelli will provide backup for you while you try to make contact with this scum. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Mulder sighed to himself as the A.D. left the office. This case was getting less desirable by the minute. He just hoped that no one he knew frequented that area. If Alex or even the Lone Gunmen happened upon him in this getup, he'd never hear the end of it.

Fiorelli laughed to himself as he followed Mulder out of the office. He couldn't help but think of a line from a women's song his sister used to listen to, "He makes straight men gay and gay women straight," as he eyed Mulder's taut buttocks. He'd never seen a man as beautiful as the young agent. . . Fiorelli was sure he'd be a magnet for all sorts of riffraff that would be worth arresting.

Greyhound Bus Station
October 19, 1999
1:45 p.m.

Alfred Rogers stirred his tea idly. He had just flown in on a trip to Philadelphia to visit some friends from England and was killing time before he had to make his bus. It was only for a few days. Afterwards, he would fly back to Bermuda where Cain's private plane would meet him to fly him back to his island.

The bus station was bustling with hoards of passengers arriving and leaving on their bus trips. He yawned and picked up his copy of the Times. He was happy to get a copy of his favorite London paper, which wasn't available on the island.

Suddenly he became aware of someone walking by his table. He glanced up and did a doubletake. A young, absolutely beautiful man was walking through the terminal. The young man was dressed to kill. As he passed by the crowd, he created a buzz of excitement by his revealing attire and his incredible looks.

Rogers rubbed his eyes in amazement. This stunning vision of humanity made him ache with desire. He was the sort of being that men would kill to possess. His lustful thoughts made him think instantly of Sterling Cain. What he would give to be able to present this creature to his employer as his next slave…and what would Sterling Cain give him in reward?

Rogers immediately heard two other men discussing the beautiful young man at the next table. It wasn't difficult to focus on their whispered conversation.

"Jesus, did you see that one, Rick? He's definitely a pro—"

"Are you kidding? That one's a cop!"

"Cop? How do you know?"

"He's so obvious! Look, look at the guy following him! I bet they're headed for the back of the bus terminal where all the other hoers hang!"

Rogers cocked an ear. A young cop? How interesting! Looking back, he did indeed see a burly gentleman with curly brown hair following the younger man throughout the terminal.

Reaching into his pocket, Rogers pulled out a miniscule camera. Getting up from his chair, he quickly but discreetly raced to catch up with them. Whoever coined the phrase "a picture is worth a thousand words" knew what he was about, he reflected. . .especially with this beauty!

Once he had the picture, Rogers resolved to use his numerous contacts to find out the identity and location of the young man. He was certain the rewards would be many if he were to bring home to Cain this splendid creature. It would be worth cutting his trip short to present his employer with such a prize. With such a luscious young Adonis under the millionaire's command, Rogers was sure to earn Cain's undying gratitude.

Mulder's apartment
2:45 p.m.

Alex stared up at the ceiling after he threw himself down on the bed in Mulder's apartment. Poor Fox had been so upset this morning, after his fight with Scully the previous afternoon. It had been the worst luck for them to run into Scully at that particular time and place, before Mulder was able to explain his relationship to her, and after the shock of their unwilling transformation. But then, Mulder's luck hadn't been running too well lately.

He groaned as he thought of how Fox had roused them at dawn so he could have a chance to talk to Scully before their workday started. Krycek was certain that she wouldn't listen to him, that she needed time to adjust to the situation. She was the type who was quick to anger and slow to cool off, a wonderful combination. However, eventually she'd come around. Krycek just hoped it was sooner rather than later.

It made Krycek miserable to think how unhappy Fox had been by that bitch's rejection of him. She had been desperate to get away from him, after all their years' together. What kind of loyalty was that? She didn't know how good she had it. Poor Mulder had actually sobbed in his arms at losing her. If Fox didn't think so highly of her, Krycek would've told her to kiss off permanently.

The whole horrible situation had been compounded by the two agents' temporary transfer to the juvenile crimes division as decoy prostitutes. Krycek couldn't imagine a more demeaning fate for Fox, with his brilliant, analytical mind. It roused both his anger and his jealousy. He had wanted to follow Mulder on his assignment but had made the mistake of telling Mulder, who exploded and made him swear that he wouldn't. It was only Mulder's insistence that kept him from doing so, and the belief that it was only making Mulder feel even more like a child who had to be taken care of. His lover's self-esteem had suffered enough blows in the last few days.

However, the whole situation still didn't sit right with him. He was sure there was more going on behind the temporary transfer, that the A.D. in the other department had designs on Mulder working for him permanently. If Mulder was forced off the X-files, the FBI would probably close it down, and Krycek couldn't let that happen. There was too much at stake.

He picked up a newspaper that Fox had left behind on the nighttable. He idly flipped through it. Suddenly he came upon a full page ad, a travel ad for a trip to a tropical island. It was a cutrate fare, which always appealed to Krycek, and white sand beaches with palm trees looked very tempting. He smiled to himself. Wouldn't it be nice to take Fox away from all this, if only for a short while?

Mulder deserved a break, he told himself. If this new A.D. kicked up a fuss, Mulder could get a physician's statement that a vacation from the FBI was necessary for his health. He'd just been through a major physical transformation, a trauma. . .it wasn't every day that a person became 15 years younger!

Yes, Krycek thought, this is just what the doctor ordered. He chuckled to himself as he thought of them lying on a sunny island beach, tropical drinks by their sides, Fox in a skimpy bathing suit or perhaps nothing at all, crystal blue water beckoning.

It was too incredible a scene to resist. Picking up the phone, Krycek dialed the phone number printed in the ad.

When the reservations agent picked up the phone, he said, "I'd like to make two reservations to Bermuda, please."

Eli Anne is next!