The Cabin Boy - Part 2/4
By: DiAnn

Mulder resurfaced to the feeling of a gentle hand running lovingly through 
his hair.  He slowly opened his eyes.

"Welcome back," Captain Skinner whispered, a look of such sheer relief 
across his face that it almost took Mulder's breath away.

"Where . . .we?"  Mulder croaked.

"Sh-h-h-h-h, don't try to talk.  You swallowed some salt water. Your voice 
will be better in a day or two."

"Y . . .you too?"

"Yes, I swallowed a little myself," the captain rasped as he continued to 
run his hand through Fox's soft hair.

"Boat . . .sink?"

Skinner chuckled.  "No, we're still afloat.  Is that why you came above 
during the storm?  Did you think we were in danger of going down?"

Mulder nodded, "Wanted . . .save you."  A confused look came over his face, 
"There was someone here . . . he said . . ."  Mulder rubbed a hand over his 
eyes, hoping it would help clear his mind as well as his vision.  "I just 
can't seem to remember."

The captain kissed him tenderly, "It's all right, don't worry about it right 
now.  We didn't sink and  we're both safe, that's all that matters.  Go back 
to sleep, cabin boy."

The next time Fox awakened it was to the feel of the captain's warm body 
wrapped securely around his own, and the heavenly smell of food drifting 
from a tray by the bed.

Mulder inhaled again, sighing contentedly.  Food had always been a driving 
force with him.  There had never been enough of it, even before his father 
was murdered and his family destroyed.  And after three years of Mr. 
Blevins' lessons in frugality, well it was enough to say that Mulder 
appreciated his every meal.

Being strong and in the best health of his young life, thanks to adequate 
food and an abundance of fresh air, it took only two days for Mulder to 
recover enough from his ordeal to wheedle an afternoon on deck out of his 
overly-protective captain.

Mulder never felt more alive than when he was on the deck of the ship, the 
wind and sun caressing his body and soothing his mind.

He was sitting with Frohike, both of them leaning comfortably back against 
some crates, while the man told the cabin boy a tall tale about a petty 
thief he had once known who could stretch his body to slip through the 
smallest of openings.  It was a totally outrageous story, and Mulder loved 
every word of it.

Suddenly a shadow fell across the two men.  They both looked up to see their 
captain staring down at them.

"You know," Skinner stared pointedly at older pirate.  "I do make it a rule 
that the members of my crew at least contribute enough work to earn the 
bread I put in their mouths."

"Ye . . .yes, sir!"  Frohike scrambled to his feet, now more than eager to 
get back to his assignment.

Skinner's face softened somewhat as he looked down at his cabin boy.  Fox 
was staring back at him as if the captain had just solved all the mysteries 
of the universe.  "And how about you, brat, are you well rested?"

Mulder attempted to jump to his feet, cursing his own weakness as a shocked 
Skinner had to help him to stand.  "I . . .I really should be down below 
polishing you boots, sir."

"Fox . . ."

"And I know you like fresh linen on the bed, and . . ."

"That really won't be . . ."  Skinner watched as Fox backed away from him 
fearfully.

"And the cabin could use a good airing, and . . ."

"Fox?"  Skinner could only stand bewildered as his cabin boy all but bolted 
for the stairs that led below.  "A most ususal young man," he muttered to 
himself before turning back to his own duties.

Fox sat propped against the bed as he polished diligently on his captain's 
high, black boots.  He had once more played the fool.  Of course the captain 
would be concerned about the amount of food that was consumed on his ship.  
Food cost money.  Mulder knew that.  Had always known that.

Tears stung his eyes.  Captain Skinner must think him the most glutenous of 
men, not to mention lazy and thick-headed.  It was a wonder he hadn't been 
thrown to those sharks already.  Well, never let it be said that Christeena 
Mulder raised a fool.  From now on Fox would remember his station in life 
and act accordingly.

A few days later, Skinner lay in his bed, a lazy hand running over the 
smooth, satiny skin of his enchantingly beautiful cabin boy.  He was totally 
satisfied, both carnally and with his life in general, and it was all 
because of the luscious boy who now lay next to him.  He couldn't resist 
stealing another kiss from those soft, sweet lips.  He smiled as he pulled 
away, sighing contentedly as he snuggled closer to his most cherished 
possession.

As he lay drowsily listening to the strong, rhythmical beat of Fox's heart, 
he remember something he had been meaning to ask.

"Fox?"

"Yes, sir."

"The galley cook has informed me that you are eating one meal a day."

Skinner felt every muscle in the boy's body go rigid as he lay like stone in 
the captain's arms.  "Yes.  I'm sorry, sir."

"Why, Fox?"

"I didn't think you'd mind, sir."

Skinner bent his elbow, resting his head in his hand so he could look down 
into the face of his trembling cabin boy.  He began to rub slow, soothing 
circles on Mulder's flat, muscular stomach.  "Well, I do mind.  I mind a 
great deal.  Are you telling me that a healthy young man of twenty-three 
requires one meal a day."

Mulder swallowed hard, his face the picture of misery as he turned to face 
his captain.  "I'm sorry, sir.  I didn't mean to take improper advantage.  I 
can cut back.  I feel I must warn you however that three days seems to be my 
limit."

Skinner shook his head slightly as he attempted to clear his thoughts.  He 
just wasn't following this.  "You limit, Fox?"

"I know it should be longer.  Mr. Blevins tried to impress that on me time 
and again, but after three days I tend to get a little wobbly.  I passed out 
once in the counting house.  Mr. Blevins beat me severely for it, but I have 
to tell you, I don't think I could have done anything to change the outcome, 
even to avoid that cane."

"Blevins caned you for fainting?  Why did you faint?  What are you talking 
about Fox?"

"I'm talking about the food, sir.  If I go longer than three days without 
food, I pass out.  I want you to know that so you aren't too disappointed in 
me."

"Disapp . . ."  Suddenly the captain's face cleared as realization hit, then 
a dark cloud of rage obscured the perplexed expression.

"That son-of-a-bitch!  I'm turning this ship around , I'm . . .I'm going to 
go back there and kill that bastard!  Slowly!  Very, very slowly!"  
Skinner's roar was barely comprehensible, and he  immediately regretted his 
outburst as he saw the look of total terror come over Fox's face.

Mulder tried to draw back, to put some distance between himself and the 
angry captain, but the man had one iron-like arm wrapped around the smaller 
man's waist.  He wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm sorry," Mulder pleaded as he wrapped both arms around his head 
protectively.  "I'll . . .I can go longer without eating.  I promise I'll 
try harder."

"Fox," Skinner said, fighting to keep his voice soft and calm as he tried to 
peel Mulder's arms away from his face.  "Have I ever hit you?"

One wide hazel eye peeked out at him in astonishment.

"Okay," Skinner chuckled, let me put that a different way.  "Have I ever hit 
you anywhere but on your well-deserving butt?"

"N . . .no."

"And I don't plan to start now.  You're safe with me, cabin boy, come out 
from under there."

Mulder warily lowered his arms and stared at the captain with huge, anxious 
eyes.

Skinner took a deep breath.  "Fox, is this about what I said to Frohike up 
on deck?"

"You were right, sir.  A good crew member should earn his keep.   I don't 
think the duties I perform warrant three meals a day.  You were kind to 
allow me that at first but now that I'm more experienced, it only stands to 
reason that . . ."

"Yes, you are more experienced," the captain leered, causing his delectable 
bed-mate to blush a lovely shade of scarlet.  "And if I were to feed you in 
accordance with what those newly learned skills are worth to me, you would 
do nothing but sit in the galley with a plate and fork before you."

"But, sir . . ."

"Just listen a minute, brat.  Frohike knew that I didn't mean what I said 
literally.  I don't begrudge my crew their sustenance.  Hard working men 
have to eat their fill, I know that.  I was just . . ."

The captain looked away as if unable to meet the cabin boy's eyes.  "To be 
absolutely honest, I was jealous.  Frohike has such a way of keeping your 
attention with his outrageous stories.  And it isn't just Melvin, it's the 
whole damned crew.  You're like a sponge, Fox.  So quick and bright, you 
soak up whatever they tell you whether it be how to mend a main sail, or the 
best way to overpower a vampire.  I . . .I just don't feel I can compete 
with them, Fox."

Mulder spent several long moments just blinking at his captain, then a 
breath-taking smile spread across his face, right before he threw his arms 
around Skinner's neck, hugging the big man for all he was worth.

"No one can compete with you, sir."  Mulder mumbled, refusing to relinquish 
his hold, his face buried in Skinner's neck.  "They would be foolish to 
try." Mulder pulled back, swallowed hard, but looked straight into his 
captain's eyes.  "I . . .I love you."

The crewman sitting in the crow's nest on night watch, half asleep and bored 
to distraction, almost fell from his perilous perch when the captain's 
joyous shout tore through the quiet night.

"Sir?"

"Yes, brat?"  Skinner nuzzled his cabin boy's neck happily.

"Do you have any food around here.  I'm starving."

* * *
Mulder smiled happily, the sun beating down on his upturned face and the 
wind whipping through his thick, dark hair.

From where he stood in the crow's nest at the top of the tallest mast, 
Mulder was sure he could see at least a hundred miles of glassy, calm ocean 
in all directions.  He glanced down to the deck to see the captain, head 
down, hands clasped behind his back, still anxiously pacing in a tight 
circle at the base of the main mast.

For the past two weeks, Mulder and Langly had been spending two hours a day 
climbing in the rigging.  This morning his erstwhile teacher had assured the 
nervous captain that the cabin boy had attained the skill needed to safely 
climb the ropes and take a tour as lookout in this, his favorite of all 
places on the ship.

Mulder waved at the captain, hoping to reassure him, but the man had his 
head down, and was busy mumbling to the planks of the wooden deck.  The 
cabin boy shrugged, looking back out to his beloved sea.  His breath caught 
in his throat as his heart almost stopped.

Mulder leaned far over the side of the wooden platform, waving his arms 
wildly and screaming at the top of his lungs, desperate to alert the 
captain, before it was too late, of what lay just ahead.

Captain Skinner looked up to see his cabin boy practically dancing in the 
crows nest, his arms waving frantically above his head.

"Langly, something's wrong with Fox.  What is he signaling?"

"I have no idea, sir.  I've never seen those particular gestures before."

"Did you not teach him the proper hand-signals for a look-out?"

"Uh, no,"  Ringo said sheepishly.   "I didn't think he'd actually see 
anything up there.  He just likes to be places where the wind can blow in 
his face."

"What's that thing dangling from his arm?"

"Spyglass, sir.  He kept dropping it, so I tied it to his wrist."

"Merciful heavens!  He's climbing over the side.  Do something!"

"He knows how to climb the rigging, sir."  Ringo said with more confidence 
than he actually felt.  Both Langly and the captain gasped as Mulder lost 
his balance, hung on to a rope with one hand, kicking wildly until he 
finally righted himself and continued his reckless descent.

"Did you teach him to come down that fast?"

"No.  I told him to take his time until he gained more skill.  There must be 
something wrong."

"Shit!"  Skinner gasped as Mulder once again lost his grip, finding another 
hold just in the nick of time.  "Blasted boy is going to be the death of me 
yet.  You mark my words.  I have never . . ."

Langly breathed a little easier as the captain hurried away from him and 
began to expertly climb the main mast rigging.  Ringo found something urgent 
to do on the other side of the ship.  He didn't want to be too close when 
the two were back on deck.

It took only a few seconds for the captain to reach Fox, hooking a big arm 
around the jabbering man's waist and hauling him safely back down onto the 
deck.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?"  Skinner shook the agitated 
cabin boy soundly.  "I swear you are the most . . ."

Mulder managed to draw in a deep breath through his rattling teeth.  
"Captain, there's . . . there's a ma . . .man on a ra . . .raft out there!"

"And if you don't start . . . What?" Skinner caught just enough of what he 
was saying to stop shaking him.  "A raft?"

"Yes!  Yes, there's a man floating on a raft out there.  We have to help 
him!"

Skinner groaned in exasperation, "How many times do I have to explain this 
to you, brat.  We're pi-rat-es.  We're not out here to help people!  We're 
supposed to strike fear into the hearts of men, not run about doing good 
deeds.  At this rate, you're going to make us the laughing stock on every 
ship at sea."

Mulder bottom lip came out in an adorable pout causing the captain to groan 
again.  "Don't do that," he pleaded.  "I know you have a kind heart, and you 
want to rescue that man, but it just isn't done, Fox.  What if Blue Beard or 
Captain Claw found out about it?  We'd never be able to show our faces 
again."

The lip came out a little farther, while thick, dark lashes did a slow, 
disillusioned blink over sad, hazel eyes.  The captain suddenly felt about 
two-inches tall.

"Shit!  Oh all right, but when we can't get a pint of ale in any 
pirate-owned port in the Caribbean, it will be all your fault."

A disgruntled captain released his hold on his cabin boy and turned to his 
curious crew.  "Well, what the hell are you all looking at?  Prepare to come 
about to engage an unidentified . . .vessel."

"That raft?"  Mr. Byers eyebrow rose above his left eye.  "Are you saying 
you're going to stop and pick up a stranger who has somehow gotten himself 
cast out onto a raft in the middle of the ocean?"

"That's exactly what I mean, Mr. Byers."

"But sir, he could be a thief, or even worse, a royal spy caught on one of 
the other pirate ships.  He's out there for a reason.  This just isn't 
prudent, sir."

Skinner glanced back at Mulder who was now hanging over the side of the 
ship, biting worriedly at his pretty bottom lip as he watched the raft drift 
a little further away.

"Shit!  Just do it, Mr. Byers.  It won't hurt to just talk to the man for a 
moment.  There's nothing to say we have to let him stay on board."

Byers glanced over to where Mulder stood, "I'm not so sure about that, sir."

Skinner rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.  He 
couldn't remember ever having his head hurt like this before he had taken 
his cabin boy aboard his ship.

"Frohike!"

The little man came scrambling, his expression alarmed.  "Yes, sir?'

"Take Fox to my cabin and tie him to the bed."  He glared at his nervous 
crewman, "And I swear if he shows back up on this deck, I am going to hold 
you personally responsible.  I know you've been teaching him your street 
tricks.  You'd be wise to make certain he doesn't use any of them to escape 
my cabin today!"

Frohike paled at the mention of his dubious teachings to Fox.
"Ye . . .yes, sir."

Frohike had Mulder hustled down below and secured to the captains bed before 
the young man knew what happened to him.

"Melvin!  I can't believe you're doing this to me.  I want to go back on 
deck.  I want to see if that man is all right.  And I don't want to be tied 
to this damned bed again!"

"And I don't want to spend the afternoon showing off my bare, strapped ass 
as it hangs over a barrel on deck."  Frohike smiled evilly as the cabin 
boy's face flushed crimson.  "Now be quiet or I'll gag you."

"But I'm the one who found the raft.  This isn't fair!"

"What isn't fair," Frohike snapped.  "is that I keep getting in trouble 
because of you."

Mulder stuck his bottom lip out, glaring at his traitorous friend.

"And that won't work with me, save it for the captain.  You are staying in 
this cabin, and that's that."

"All right, fine.  You don't have to get all cranky about it."  Mulder 
pulled at the ropes holding his wrists to the bed.  "These really hurt, 
Melvin.  Do you think you could loosen them just a little.  The captain 
doesn't like it when my wrists bleed too much."

"Bleed?  Shit!  The captain'll kill me!"  Frohike jumped up to attend to the 
ropes holding Fox captive.

The captain rolled his eyes heavenward as he saw his cabin boy's head pop up 
through the hatch.  "Damned kid!"

Mulder moved his head slowly from left to right, as if searching the deck 
for something before coming fully above.  He slowly turned, then his eyes 
widened in alarm as he saw the captain looking straight at him.

"Did you kill him?"

"No, of course not!  I just tied him to your bed."

Skinner grimaced, wondering just how long it had been since the scraggly 
little Frohike had last bathed.  "Oh for heaven's sake, just get over here." 
the captain grumbled.  "And I swear if you say one word or move from behind 
me, I'll blister your butt before I ever bother to ask that man what he's 
doing adrift in the Atlantic.  Got it?"

"Yes, sir!"  Mulder beamed, feeling only a little guilty about tricking 
Frohike.

"And I'm telling you right now, Fox.  If I sense that the man is in any way 
a hazard to this ship or my crew, he stays in the water and I don't want to 
hear one word from you about it."

"But, sir . . ."

"Not one word, Fox.  I've never made it a practice to rescue men at sea, and 
with good reason.  He could be dangerous."

Mulder snorted, "Yeah like this big, cut-throat crew of pirates are gonna' 
pee their pants over one lone man on a raft.  What?  You afraid he might 
fire his cannon at you?"

"Fox, I swear . . ."  Mulder watched as Skinner's face turned the most 
remarkable shade of purple.

"Uh . . .sir, they're bringing him abroad now."  Mulder smiled charmingly at 
his sputtering captain, hoping desperately to distract the man from the 
mayhem he saw glistening in his eyes.

Two of the most huge, hideous-looking of Skinner's crew held the man 
securely between them.  The rescued man smiled arrogantly, moving his eyes 
up and down as he quickly and appreciatively accessed the beautiful boy who 
stood straining to see around the big, broad-shouldered captain who stood so 
protectively in front
of him.

"Tell me who you are, and why you were set adrift before I toss you back in 
the sea, English."  Skinner snarled , not having missed the look in the 
man's eyes when he saw Fox.

"My name is Robert Modell and you <won't> throw me back in the ocean.  In 
fact, you are most pleased to have me aboard your ship."

Skinner blinked at the man,  "I'm . . .I'm most pleased to have you aboard 
my ship,"  He muttered, while his crew looked on in shock.

"Of course you are.  Oh, and I'll be needing private accommodations."

"Yes, of course."  Skinner nodded slowly.  "Tom, show Mr. Modell to a 
cabin."

"Yes, sir."  Colton smiled to himself as he approached this strange man who 
he hoped would turn out to be his new best ally.

* * *
Once Fox had released Frohike, and the man had scurried out the door, 
Skinner placed one foot upon a wooden bench and crooked his finger at his 
cabin boy's.  "Come here, brat?"

"I promised the cook I'd help with the evening meal."  Mulder hedged his way 
toward the door.

"He has enough help.  Take down your pants, you won't be needing them for 
the next few minutes."

"But sir, I . . ."

"If you don't get your trousers down around your ankles within the next ten 
seconds you will not be wearing them again today, and I warn you, I plan for 
us to eat in the galley with the men tonight."

The horrific mental picture of himself, half naked, sitting on a sore butt 
in the galley spurred the cabin boy to immediate action.  He had no sooner 
let his trousers hit the floor, than he was upended over the captain's bent 
knee, his feet dangling off the floor behind him.

Six quick, hard smacks landed on his unprotected bottom.

"Ouch-h-h!"  Fox squirmed over the big man's knee, his feet unable to touch 
the floor beneath him.

"If you don't," Smack!  "Learn to control that blasted curiosity of yours,"  
Smack!  Smack! "And start obeying my orders,"  Smack!  Smack!  Smack! "You 
won't be sitting down until we reach the island." Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  
"Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ouch!  I'll obey you!  Ah!  You have my promise!"

"That's not exactly worth its weight in gold, now is it?"  Smack!  Smack!  
Smack!  "But I suppose it'll have to do."

Skinner released his hold on his vexatious cabin boy, standing him on his 
feet once more.  Fox immediately put a hand back to rub his stinging 
backside, his bottom lip out and quivering slightly.

"Save the pout for a day when I'm not quite so exasperated with you.  Now, I 
want you to get clean linens from my sea-chest and change the bed."

"Why?"

Skinner gave Fox his best long-suffering look, "Well for one because I told 
you to do so, but since I doubt that alone will convince you to follow my 
orders, I don't like to sleep on linens that have been lain on by others."

"You sure are prissy for a pirate captain."

"I am <not> prissy!  And you would do well, young man, to remember that it 
is within my power to drop you at the next port we happen upon, and sell you 
to the first man who shows even the slightest interest in your pretty face.  
Of course, I'll have to set sail immediately before he finds out how I've 
duped him."

The lip came back out, causing the captain to roll his eyes heavenward.  
"Don't even start with the lip, brat."

Showing no mercy, Mulder threw in his best kicked-puppy look.
"Look, I'm sorry I said that.  I have no intention of selling you, I spoke 
out of exasperation. What say, we start over.  You do as you're told and 
change the bed linens, and I'll try to quell my urge to take my belt to you 
again.  How does that sound."

"You certainly are prone to abrupt temperament changes, sir.  I once read a 
book about demon possession and it said that . . ."

"Stop!  Don't even say it!  Just change the bed linen.  I'm going up on 
deck.  Don't leave this cabin until I come get you, Fox."

Mulder sighed, his expression leaving little doubt that he considered 
himself well and truly misused.  "Yes, sir.  Whatever you say, sir.  I am 
here but to serve."

"Right."  Skinner muttered as he started to walk out the door.  He abruptly 
turned back.  "And when I return, I expect to find you lying naked and ready 
for me upon the clean sheets.  It's the only service I can expect from you 
that doesn't come with a sullen attitude and a million questions."

As he turned to leave, Skinner didn't miss the delighted smile that spread 
across his cabin boy's beautiful face.

* * *
A few of the crewmen smiled knowingly as the captain entered the galley 
whistling under his breath, his pretty cabin boy a few steps behind him.

"You'll be dining with us, captain."

The captain stopped so suddenly that Mulder bumped into his broad back.  
They now stood at a table where Tom Colton and Robert Modell had been deep 
in conversation.

Skinner blinked at the new man, his eyes glazed.  "Yes, of course we will.  
Fox, go get our plates."

Mulder frowned as his captain seated himself with Colton and Modell.  "I 
think Mr. Byers is expecting you at the front table, Captain Skinner."

Modell turned lazy eyes toward Mulder but continued to address the captain, 
"He's terribly brash for a cabin boy.  What he needs is a good dose of your 
whip across his back, captain?  You will do that now."

The man turned back to see what effect his words had on the captain and was 
unnerved to see the man now scowling at him.
That was interesting.

"The whip is never to be used on Fox."

"I see.  Well I'm sure you have other ways to discipline him.  Mr. Colton 
was just telling me that you are on your way home.  I am looking forward to 
seeing your beautiful island."

"I thought we were dropping him at the next port?"  Fox eyed the newcomer 
with distaste.

"No," Modell stared intently at the captain.  "I'm going to the island with 
you."

"He's going to the island with us."  Skinner repeated.

"Whatever," Mulder groused as he left to get their food.

"And naturally," Modell continued to look deeply into the captain's eyes.  
"I'll need someone to warm my bed.  I think that cabin boy will do nicely."

Skinner blinked, then narrowed his eyes.  "No one touches Fox."

"Of course, I was only jesting.  Please, let's get off on a better foot, 
shall we."  Modell used his most charming smile as the captain seated 
himself across from him.

Modell studied the man closely.  So he really couldn't push the captain 
where the pretty cabin boy was concerned.  Modell had run into something 
like this once before, where a man was so totally enamored that he couldn't 
be manipulated out of his prized possession.  Of course that time it had 
been only a thoroughbred horse.  Robert had just shot the man and taken the 
horse anyway.  Perhaps he would have to do the same with the captain.

Mulder came back, sitting the captain's plate in front of him and taking his 
own seat to Skinner's right.  Just as they began to eat, the captain was 
called away by the seaman on watch.

"Can't it wait?"  Skinner snarled at the nervous seaman.

"N . . .no, sir.  Mr. Byers asked that I have you come on deck at once."

Skinner rose from his bench.  "Fox, stay here, and finish your meal.  Take 
my plate to my cabin, I'll return there as quickly as possible."

Mulder looked longingly after the captain, then began to quickly eat his own 
meal.

"Fox," Modell smiled at the young man disarmingly, "you're really very 
beautiful."

"Go to hell," Mulder hissed.  "I don't know what the hell you do, or how you 
do it, but it's not going to work on me.  And you'd be wise to take care 
with my captain as well."  Fox spared another glare for Colton.  "And you 
should be more careful of the company you keep, Tom."

"And you'd best watch your mouth, little cabin boy."  Colton sneered.  "Or 
I'll arrange for you to spend another afternoon over a barrel on the deck.  
The captain trusts me.  If I tell him you've been risking your life, he'll 
not hesitate to take the strap to you again."

"Trust takes a long time to earn and only minutes to destroy.  You'd best 
remember that Colton."  Mulder gave the men one more menacing glare before 
stalking out of the galley.

Colton watched Mulder leave the galley then turned back to his new friend, 
"Why don't you just use your power to force Mulder into your bed?"

"Now where would be the fun in that?"  Modell chuckled, "Besides when 
Skinner willingly gives the cabin boy to me, there will be nothing standing 
between you and the big man's bed."

"Captain Skinner will never hand Fox over to you."  Colton assured him, 
defeat heavy in his voice.

"Well, we'll just have to see about that."

* * *
"What was so blasted important that you had to interrupt my dinner, Mr. 
Byers?"

"We reach the island in two days, sir.  We have to decide immediately if we 
are to change course for Talisman Port to drop off that worthless piece of 
flotsam we picked up before going home."

"No, John, I've . . .I've invited him to stay on the island with me."

"What!  Are you daft, man?"  Byers grimaced as he saw the scowl that came 
across his captain's face.  "Oh, sorry, sir.  But . . .why would you do 
that?  We know nothing about him, and quite frankly,  I don't like the way 
he looks at Fox."

"I . . .I'm not certain, Mr. Byers, but the decision has been made.  
Continue our course for Sauve L'ile.   I look forward to seeing our home 
again."

"As do I, captain."  Byers was still worried, but could think of nothing to 
say that would change the captain's mind about Modell.

* * *
Skinner woke to the unfamiliar feeling of an empty bed.  He quickly lit the 
candle on the table beside him, looking around for his missing cabin boy.  
The door was standing open but Fox was no where is sight.

The captain rose, dressing quickly, heading up on deck, fear knotting his 
stomach.  He ran over to the man on night watch.

"Pearly Pete, is Fox up here with you?"  Skinner asked as he looked up to 
the crows nest.  He could see by moonlight that it was unmanned on this 
night.

"No sir, I haven't seen him.  Only men been on deck tonight, except the 
night crew, was Tom Colton and that new guy we picked up today.  Man said he 
needed a little air before going to his quarters."

Captain Skinner spent the next two hours searching the ship from bow to 
stern, finally exasperated, frightened and ready to call out every man to 
help in the search, he went below to the very bowels of the ship.

There, standing half naked and in brackish water up to his ankles was his 
cabin boy, just staring at one wall of the ship's murky underbelly.

"Fox!"

When Mulder didn't move a muscle, Skinner moved closer, "Fox."
He gently touched the man's bare shoulder, finally eliciting a flinch and a 
loud gasp as Fox clutched at his chest.

"Sir!  You scared me!"

"You should be scared!  What the hell are you doing down here?
I specifically told you that you were never to come down here. The rats in 
this stinking place are bigger than you are.  You haven't already been 
bitten by those disease-ridden vermin have you?"

Mulder shook his head, turning to smile at his captain.

"I saw him, sir."  In the light of the lantern he carried, Skinner could see 
that Mulder's eyes were slightly unfocused, but still shining with some 
wonderment known only to himself.

"You saw who, Fox."

"The ghost."

Skinner's chin dropped, "Excuse me?"

"The ship's ghost.  He came to your cabin and told me that if I followed him 
down here he would tell me all about the mysteries of the sea.  I really 
wanted to know about the mermaids, sir, but I've been waiting and waiting, 
and he still isn't here."

"No, I suspect he isn't."  Skinner took his cabin boy's arm in a firm grip, 
brooking no argument.  "You have to come back to the cabin now, Fox.  This 
is no place for you to spend the night."

Mulder pulled his arm away with more strength than Skinner would have 
thought he possessed.  "No!  I can't leave!  I . . .I have to stay down 
here! "

"You have to do what I say, brat!  Now move your butt back to our cabin or 
else!"

"No . . .I can't . . .he . . .he said . . ."  Mulder rubbed a hand over his 
face.  "Someone . . .told me that I . . ."

Skinner grabbed his arm once more, even more firmly than before.  "You're 
already in trouble for leaving the cabin without telling me, brat, don't 
make this any worse on yourself."

That got Mulder's attention.  "Tr . . .trouble?"

"Oh yes, big trouble."  Skinner led his dazed cabin boy out of the filthy 
ship's hole and back to his cabin.

"You smell, Fox."  Skinner pointed to the bowl and pitcher that sat on a 
small table.  "I want you to wash up, then you're going to spend a little 
time over my knee before we go back to bed."

When Mulder had finished cleaning himself, stashing his reeking pants in a 
far corner of the room, he turned to face his fuming captain.

"A ghost, Fox?  It's quite clear to me that I am going to have to be very 
careful about who talks to you.  If you persist in making up stories like 
this, someone is likely to declare you insane and lock you away from me.  We 
can't have that now, can we?"

"But sir, I didn't make it up.  There is a ghost.  His name is Stubby and he 
used to be the . . ."

"Enough!  I put up with most of your antics, Fox.  Truth be known, you quite 
entertain me at times, but I will not put up with lying.  I don't know why 
you got up in the middle of the night to continue your constant exploration 
of this ship but it certainly had nothing to do with a ghost.  There are no 
such things as ghosts."

Skinner took a seat on the side of the bed, "Come here.  Let's get this over 
with so we can both get some sleep."

Justice, or injustice, depending on whose point of view you favored, was 
swift and painful.  Mulder's bare bottom had no sooner come to rest over the 
captain's massive knees than he found himself kicking and yelping under a 
barrage of hard, precisely placed smacks.

"I will not tolerate lying, Fox."

"Ah-h-h!  But I didn't . . .Ouch-h-h-h!"

The captain's hand came down relentlessly on the upturned butt over his lap, 
bringing every inch of unprotected skin to a bright scarlet before he 
finally stopped, satisfied with a job well done.

"Will you lie to me again, brat?"

"I never lie, sir."  Mulder choked out around tears that he was trying to 
angrily wipe from his streaked face before the captain could see them.

Another hard smack right where the boy would have to sit to eat breakfast in 
the morning.  "Well then, don't be making up stories either.  I'm a simple 
man and not prone to enjoy flights of fancy."

"I'd have to agree with the ‘simple' part.  Ouch!  Ouch!  Ah-h-h!"

The captain had to hold on tightly to his squirming cabin boy as he laid on 
these last few well-deserved smacks on already soundly-paddled skin. "You 
can get up and go to bed, brat.  We have another full day at sea before we 
reach my island."

Mulder settled in bed, face down, still rubbing his stinging backside.  He 
thought that the burning pain in his rear would keep him awake but he had no 
sooner rested his head on his captain's shoulder, than he was deeply asleep. 
A smile on his lips as he felt the soft kisses that were deposited in his 
hair.

* * *
"Where the hell is Fox?"  Skinner bellowed, making each and every man of his 
crew cringe.

"Um, I saw him talking to the man at the wheel just a few minutes ago,"  
Frohike offered nervously.

The captain had taken only three steps in that direction, when the ship did 
a high roll, turning sharply to port, her sails flapping uselessly in the 
wind.  The main sail suddenly caught and a large boom came swinging across 
the deck with deadly force, the captain and crew ducking only seconds before 
they would have been knocked into the ocean.

"What the hell?"  Captain Skinner ran for the aft of the ship to see what 
had happened to cause the helm to be out of control. When he got there, he 
and his crew were all shocked to see the pirate sailor assigned to steer, 
whipping the wheel around frantically while Fox shouted directions, pointing 
frantically out to sea.

"What is the meaning of this?"  Skinner shouted, grabbing the wheel from the 
man's hands and fighting to put his ship back on a course enabling the wind 
to once again catch the sails.

"A sea monster, sir!"

Skinner momentarily lost his concentration as his mouth dropped open yet 
again, his head whirling around to look at his cabin boy.  A sharp tilt of 
the deck beneath his feet focused his attention back on the task at hand, as 
he expertly brought his ship to heel.  He glanced up to see four seamen 
hanging in the rigging, the main sail once again secured and billowing 
nicely in the afternoon breeze.  He exhaled a huge sigh of relief.

He then turned to Fox.  "Start talking!"

He held up a hand when Mulder opened his mouth to speak.  "No wait!  We 
discussed this last night.  Let's go over here where you can tell me in 
private."

Mulder was fidgeting,  literally jumping up and down with excitement as 
Skinner led him over to the railing.  "Now what is this all about, Fox?  And 
I warn you, it had better be damned good."

"I saw a sea serpent, sir.  It was right out there, plain as the nose on 
your face."  He took a moment to inspect the captain's inadequate little 
proboscis, "Well, perhaps as clear as the nose on  <my> face would be more 
accurate."

Skinner put a hand to Fox's forehead, "Just how long have you been out in 
this sun, brat?"

Mulder batted the hand away, "No really, it's a sea serpent.  Big, ugly 
monster with green scales and a long neck.  Came up out of the water and 
smacked its great tail at me.  I saw it right out there!"

"And just why were you trying to turn my ship around . . .oh wait, I know, 
you were planning to rescue the thing, bring it on board with us.  I  do 
think we still have one empty cabin left."

Mulder rolled his eyes, "This is no time for your first attempt at levity, 
sir.  You have to . . ."

"I'll have you know, young man, that I've been known to be quite zany at 
times."

"Yeah right!  As I was saying, you have to come see this thing for yourself. 
  It's coming right for us!"

Skinner raised his eyes, searching for his first mate.  "Mr. Byers!"

John came swiftly, his face a mask of concern.  "Yes, sir?"

"Did the look-out in the crow's nest report anything . . .unusual today?"

"No sir.  It's been clear for several days now."

"Are you sure?"

John looked at him strangely, "Yes captain, I'm very sure."

"Thank you, Mr. Byers.  Fox, you are to report to my cabin and wait for me 
there."

"But . . ."

"Would you prefer to spend the afternoon belly-down over a barrel, Fox?"  
Skinner hissed, his mouth so close to Mulder's ear he could feel the angry 
man's breath singe his skin.

"No sir!"  Mulder turned quickly, only to realize he would be forced to pass 
by a smirking Tom Colton and Robert Modell.

"When's the last time you were able to sit down for a meal, little cabin 
boy?"  Modell said around his shark smile.

"Yeah," Colton added.  "I heard the captain's about the wear out his strong 
right arm blistering your butt for you."

"Get away from me, Colton."

"Not much longer now, Fox," Modell's smile broadened maliciously.  "You'll 
be mine to do with as I wish."

"And the captain will be all mine." Colton added spitefully.

Mulder spared one final glare for the odious men before dejectedly making 
his way below decks.

* * *
Tom Colton stood listening outside the captain's cabin, smiling smugly.  The 
unmistakable sound of a hand slapping bare skin coming to him clearly 
through the closed door.

He had to give a little credit to the cabin boy, he had taken at least five 
minutes of resounding punishment before he had finally given voice to his 
distress.  Since that time, the wholly satisfying sounds of the rigorous 
slaps had been punctuated by the even more gratifying sounds of Fox's 
wretched sobs and desperate pleas for mercy.

Colton could just picture the pretty Fox.  Bare bottom up, red and stinging 
from the application of the captain's expert hand.  Unable to control the 
writhing of his butt or the kicking of his legs as he bucked childishly 
across the big man's lap.  Humiliated, humbled and in sizzling, red-hot 
pain.  How perfect!

At long last the slaps slowed down.  He could only hear mumbling, but it 
appeared the captain was eliciting promises from his newly chastised cabin 
boy between each new flurry of highly effective smacks.  It was not 
surprising to Colton that Fox's replies were both eager and emphatic.  He 
supposed a person would be willing to promise almost anything to end the 
kind of punishment he had just heard delivered to the cabin boy's bare 
bottom.

Colton heard shuffling sounds coming from inside.  He assumed Fox was being 
sent to shamefully display his injured bottom in a corner of the cabin.  The 
scheming crewman moved back into the shadows of the corridor, waiting for 
Captain Skinner to exit the cabin.  He planned to take the opportunity to 
console the captain on his wretched luck in acquiring such an appalling 
excuse for a cabin boy.  Perhaps now would be a good time to hint that his 
own services could be made available.

If the captain looked too surly to confront, Colton would turn his attention 
to the punished, sulking man in the corner.  Baiting Fox was always such 
fun.

The door remained closed.  Colton frowned, risked moving back to plaster his 
ear against the rough wood.  Inside he could hear more soft murmuring, and 
what could only be the sound of muffled sobbing.

He gritted his teeth as he pictured Skinner actually trying to comfort his 
irksome cabin boy.  Shit!  This is not the way it was supposed to go at all.

To Colton's disappointed ears, the sounds of the consoling went on far too 
long.  Then the bed began to squeak in a way that made his blood run cold.  
And Fox was yelling again, but this time Colton was under no illusions that 
it had anything to do with pain.

Tom turned away in disgust.  He needed to talk to Modell!

* * *
Mulder lay on the bed still trying to catch his breath.  Skinner had worked 
him over with his hot, wet tongue and big rough hands from the top of his 
head to the tip of his toes.  By the time the captain had finally taken him, 
Mulder had been shaking so hard he hadn't even cared that he was lying on a 
pair of very soundly-spanked butt cheeks.

But now . . .he squirmed just a little and was rewarded by a chuckle and 
another big, wet kiss on his cheek.  "Does my brat need to lay on his 
stomach for a while?"

Mulder gave him a withering look, but turned all the same, draping himself 
face down on the bigger man's hard body.

"That's nice," Skinner rubbed a hand soothingly up and down the cabin boy's 
long back.  "Since you turn into such a nice blanket, maybe I should keep 
that pretty bottom of yours sore all the time."

"I'd say you've done a pretty good job of that this last week," Mulder 
sulked, earning himself a sharp smack on his red butt.

"You have been especially adventurous lately.  Is there some reason why you 
.. . ."

Skinner never got to finish his question, interrupted by the robust and 
jubilant cry from above.

"Land ho!"

Skinner gave Mulder another quick hug, placing yet another big, wet kiss on 
his smooth cheek..  "Home, sweet boy!  We're home!"

They dressed quickly, Skinner practically dragging his cabin boy up on deck 
for his first look at his new home.  As Mulder leaned as far over the rail 
as possible, he sucked in a deep, awed breath.  Slowly coming into view was 
the most beautiful island Fox could ever have imagined.  All emerald green 
trees, white sparkling sands and clear blue waters.  It was a true paradise.

"Home."  The cabin boy whispered, looking up into his captain's delighted 
face.  "I've never had a real home before."

Captain Skinner wrapped his arms more tightly around that which he prized 
above all else.  "Well you do now, Fox.  You do now."

It was a close to dinnertime before they finally made their way back to the 
plantation house.  Skinner found himself practically doubling over with 
laughter as he watched Fox make a mad dash up the steps of the house, his 
bare bottom shining in the sun.

"Tear his pants, did he?"

Skinner turned around, wiping tears from his eyes, to face his first mate.  
"He does tend to find trouble easily.  And are you enjoying your time at 
home, Mr. Byers?"

"With a wife like Suzanne waiting for me, how could I not?"

"I do hope you'll join us for dinner tonight.  I miss your company, John."

Byers looked down at the ground.  It was very unusual for he and his wife 
not to dine at the main house frequently while they were on the island.  
"Suzanne doesn't feel comfortable around Modell.  You know how she relies on 
her instincts."

"They're good ones, John. They saved her many a time when she sailed with 
her father."

"Yes, few could boast so many merchant ships plundered and with so little 
struggle.  Captain Modesky lays all the credit for their remarkable success 
at Suzanne's feet.  He says she knows instinctively when to strike and when 
to lay low."

"It's a talent worth having, John."

"Yes, if only all of us were so blessed.  But I didn't come here to yet 
again harp on my misgivings regarding Modell.  I came to tell you that the 
look-outs have spotted a ship laying anchor off our shores."

"Friend or foe, John?"

"It's the Severed Heart."

"Gentleman John?  Are they sure?"

"Yes.  Blackson used to sail with the man, that's why he has that hook 
instead of a hand.  He would know the ship without a doubt."

"Do you think he followed us?"

"No captain, I think he's been waiting here for us to arrive.  He knew we 
would come home eventually."

"Will he dare come ashore?"

"I don't know.  I think there's something he wants.  What he'll do to get 
that something or <someone>. . ."   Byers shrugged as he looked meaningfully 
at the steps that had taken Fox into the house.

"Fox?  Why would a cold-blooded killer like Gentleman John care about a 
cabin boy?"

"We know he has a particular fondness for children, captain."  Both men 
shuddered as the truth of that statement sent cold chills down their spines. 
  "And yes, I know Fox is far from the age of childhood but he just tends to 
look so young and innocent, I have to wonder if he caught Gentleman John's 
eye at some point."

"I find this whole thing hard to believe, Mr. Byers."  Skinner shook his 
head adamantly but John Byers got the impression it was more to convince 
himself than his first mate that Fox was in no danger.

"You need to take extra precautions, captain.  Fox is the only thing that is 
on this island now that wasn't here six months ago.  Gentleman John would 
never confront you without a good reason.  You've bested him too many times 
for the old pervert to take you lightly.  He wants something, I'm sure of 
it."

"Thanks for the warning, John.  I'll keep Fox close to my side for a while."

"Uh . . .of course you will."  Byers bite his bottom lip as the toe of his 
boot scuffed at the sandy ground.

"What?"  Skinner eyed his skeptical friend.  "Spit it out, Mr. Byers."

"It's just that I've seen how curious Fox can be.  By the end of the week he 
will have touched, tasted, sniffed or questioned everything on this island.  
He'll need careful watching."

"I can handle Fox.  You need not concern yourself about that."

"Of course not, sir."

"He'll obey me."

"Well, . . ."

"He'll not get out of my sight."

"Yes, sir."  Skinner noticed that his first mate still seemed less than 
convinced.

"Surely you believe I can control one cabin boy?"

"Absolutely, sir, an ordinary cabin boy would be no problem at all."

"But you think Fox is different?  Do you doubt my abilities, John?"

"No, of course not, sir."  John Byers looked up hopefully, "But do you 
happen to still have that harem-boy collar, captain."

* * *
In the weeks that followed, there was no further sightings of the Severed 
Heart and its evil captain, and gradually the captain began to relax his 
guard.

Mulder managed to explore every inch of his new island home.  Occasionally 
he escaped to prowl on his own, but more often he was accompanied by his 
enamored captain.

Nothing amused Captain Skinner more than when Mulder would be rattling on 
about something new that had caught his inquisitive eye, only to blush 
furiously when it was pointed out to him that he had seen whatever it was on 
his first tour of the island.

The two men became a common sight as they road double on Skinner's 
magnificent, white horse.  While the captain continued to insist that the 
cabin boy was not a skilled enough rider for his own mount,  Mulder just 
made sure he gave his captain no excuse to punish him while they were riding 
together.

One of their favorite spots was the waterfall.  They would spend long 
afternoons swimming and frolicking in the clear, cool waters.  Stopping only 
to eat or make love before returning to the soothing respite of the tranquil 
pond to refresh themselves before starting all over again.

On one such occasion, they lay exhausted in each other's arms on the soft, 
lush grass that surrounded the pool.  They had been at the waterfall most of 
the day, alternating making love and swimming.  It had been a wonderful 
afternoon.

Mulder smiled as he felt soft lips lightly graze the little mole on the side 
of his face.

"Are you happy here on my island, cabin boy."

Captain Skinner gasped as he was unexpectedly rolled to find himself flat on 
his back with Fox straddling his hips and looking down at him with a wide 
grin and sparkling hazel eyes.

"Yes, my handsome pirate captain, I am most happy here with you."

Just as Mulder dropped his upper body to devour Skinner's mouth, he felt 
something hot whiz by his ear, then the crack of the musket fire as the 
molten-hot lead ball lodged itself in a nearby tree.  The next instant, the 
captain had locked both arms around him and they were rolling across the 
grass and into the pond as more lead slammed into the ground where Mulder 
had just been lying.

Skinner kicked his powerful legs, one arm wrapped around Mulder's throat as 
he pulled the cabin boy through the water.

"Fox!  Have you been shot?  Have you been hit?"  The captain queried 
frantically over and over as he made for the relative safety of some 
overhanging shrubs at the far end of the once tranquil pool.

Mulder gasped and sputtered, thinking a better question might well have been 
‘Fox, am I drowning you?', but he couldn't voice that observation as he was 
too busy trying to keep his head above water.

After a while, Skinner left his cabin boy in their makeshift shelter to have 
a look around for their attackers.  After several long, tense minutes, he 
came back to pull a waterlogged Fox onto the bank.  He had found no trace of 
anyone.

Skinner alerted John Byers of the incident, and extra guards were posted 
around the island.  The captain became even more protective of Fox, seldom 
letting him out of his sight.  It would have been intolerable for the 
restless, freedom-loving cabin boy if not for the evenings.

Evenings were spent consuming delicious dinners, then retiring to sit on the 
wide verandas, watching the stars come out of hiding and talking for long 
companionable hours.  The captain found Mulder's wide range of knowledge on 
so many topics fascinating, especially since he had spent the last three 
years locked away in that hellish counting house.

It seemed the cabin boy had been very ingenious in his lifelong search for 
knowledge.  Reading any book that came within his reach, and making friends 
of anyone who happened into the counting house when Blevins was elsewhere 
instead of managing his business.  Which, according to Fox, was quite often, 
since Blevins seemed to have a special delectation for the local pub.  Many 
of the old seaman who spent their time spinning tall tales on benches during 
the day, would make their way back to the counting house at night to tell 
Fox their stories as he looked down upon them from the only window high on 
the counting house wall.

Both men came to love the nights spent together on the verandas.  Captain 
Skinner taught his cabin boy how to navigate by the stars, while Mulder 
taught his captain how to laugh again.

Or sometimes, they would sit in front of a small fire in Skinner's study, 
Mulder's head resting on his captain's lap as the older man read from one of 
his many books.  Occasionally it was a book that Mulder had somehow managed 
to get in his hands in years past, but it always seemed new and exciting 
when the words were read to him in Skinner's deep, velvet voice.

The only detriment, in Mulder's opinion, was the constant presence of Robert 
Modell, his smirking eyes always seeming to rest on Mulder.  That is, of 
course, when they weren't staring intently at the captain, somehow forcing 
him to Modell's will.

Mulder's only salvation lie in the fact that when it came to the cabin boy, 
Skinner could not be swayed by Modell.  The insidious cast-away always 
pretended to have been jesting when Skinner took offense to his unending 
demands that Fox be punished in his presence or worse, sent to Modell's 
chambers for the evening.  But Mulder saw the fury in the man's eyes each 
time his wishes were denied.  Mulder feared that someday, Robert Modell 
would not be willing to take ‘no' for an answer.

And then there was Tom Colton.  Somehow always worming his way into the main 
house.  A curiously often-invited guest for dinner, thanks, Fox believed, to 
the unusual abilities of Modell.

Colton liked nothing more than to wheedle a few moments alone with Mulder, 
baiting him unmercifully.  Telling him in great detail how he planned to 
take the cabin boy's place with Captain Skinner.  Fox, for his part, tried 
to ignore his boasting, but the cabin boy's innate feelings of unworthiness 
combined with his deep seeded fear of rejection often caused him to lie 
awake long after his captain had slipped into peaceful sleep.

The island itself was for all intents and purposes divided into four parts.  
The west beach contained the main house and grounds.  The north side was  
where the barracks and establishments of entertainment for the single men of 
the crew were located.  To the east was the native village.  And on the 
south beach, tidy little bungalows had been built for the married pirates 
and their families.  The interior of the island contained sugar cane fields, 
orchards, and untamed jungle vegetation.

And a few other less ordinary inhabitants.  A population that was 
unequivocally dismissed by the ever-skeptical Skinner and hotly pursued by 
his reckless, inquisitive cabin boy.

One evening it was only Skinner, Purdue and Mulder at the dinner table.  
This was a true rarity with Robert Modell in residence, as he was never one 
to miss a meal or a chance to taunt the captain and his cabin boy.  
Tonight's quiet, relaxed dinner was an novel treat for the three men.

Captain Skinner smiled across the table at his beautiful dinner companion.  
"So how did you spend you day, Fox?"

Mulder swallowed hard as he looked up to meet the eyes of his captain.  "I 
spent most of the day with Mother Maggie and her Order of Evangelical 
Sanctimonious Sisters over at the missionary.  She's a great lady.  She 
bakes banana cookies for me."

"You know you're not supposed to leave the house when I can't go with you.  
I don't know how many times we have to go over this before you finally 
understand . . ."

"Frohike went with me, sir."

"How reassuring,"  Skinner growled as he went back to his meal.

"He kept me company on the way there but then he had to leave so  Langly 
came by to ride back home with me."

Skinner smiled at Fox's use of the word ‘home'.

Mulder turned from his captain to give a wide smile to Reggie as he refilled 
his soup bowl, taking full advantage of the distraction to avoid further 
conversation on the subject of Mother Maggie with his captain.  "I can get 
my own soup, Captain Purdue."

Reggie patted him on the head.  "You don't eat enough.  And besides, would 
you deny an old man his honest labor?"

"Honest labor?"  Skinner snorted.  "One of the most blood-thirsty pirates to 
ever sail the seven seas, and now you want to dip soup.  In that case, you 
can refill my bowl as well."

"Get your own!"  Reggie snapped as he took his seat across from Fox once 
more.

Mulder looked back to see his captain glowering at <him> from across the 
table.  "Uh . . .would you like me to get you some more soup, sir?"

"No, Fox, but I would like you to tell me why you were visiting with Mother 
Maggie when I specifically told you to stay away from her and the mission.  
I don't want you around that . . .that bunch of self-righteous, 
bible-thumping, disapproving old biddies."

"You shouldn't say such things about Mother Maggie, sir!"  Mulder gasped, 
appalled that Skinner would say such things about the saintly woman.  "She 
does good work on the island."

"She disapproves of pirates, Fox.  She's trying to redeem my soul!"

"Well, that's certainly a lofty goal.  I should think you'd give her some 
credit for the sheer magnitude of an undertaking such as that.  Mother 
Maggie says that the path to salvation is a difficult road for the weak of 
mind and obstinate of spirit."

"Obstinate?  She said I was obstinate and weak-minded as well?"

"Yes, sir.  She was quite specific."

"Reggie," Skinner glowered at the snickering older man.  "I really don't 
think you are helping matters very much."

"That boy is just a sight," Reggie chuckled.  "This has got to be the 
funniest conversation I've ever heard."

"I'm so glad we can amuse you, Captain Purdue."

"Oh so am, I, Walter.  Is everyone ready for the main course now?"  Reggie 
wiped the tears from his eyes as he rose from his chair.

"If it means you're going to leave the table for a while," Skinner growled, 
"Then yes, I am more than ready."

"Sir!"  Mulder's eyes were huge in his face.  "You shouldn't talk to him 
like that.  He's your captain."

"<Was> my captain."  Skinner spared one more parting frown for the still 
snickering older man before turning back to Mulder.  "And you should think 
twice before telling me what I should and should not do.  So am I to 
understand that you spent all day with that Mother Maggie woman?"

"No,"  Mulder glanced up at Skinner from under thick, lowered lashes. "I 
found some gold," he mumbled.

"What did you say?"  The captain carefully set his spoon down, picking up 
his wine glass, his eyes never leaving Fox.

"Uh, the leprechauns showed me where this cave was down by where the ship is 
docked.  It was full of gold!"

Skinner sprayed wine all over the snow-white tablecloth.  "A cave with 
gold?"

"Yeah.  It was really something.  There's lots of other treasure there, too. 
  I've never seen anything like it in my life."

"I wouldn't doubt that!  You know, Fox, you really shouldn't tell anyone 
else about this cave, they might not be as honest as you are.  They could 
steal the, uh . . .leprechaun's gold."

"Oh, I already took care of that."

Another mouthful of wine hit the table.  Mulder jumped up to pound his 
choking captain on his back.  "Are you all right, sir?  Perhaps you should 
just drink water tonight."

"What do you mean you ‘took care' of the gold?"

"I gave it to Mother Maggie and the Sanctimonious Sisters."

"YOU WHAT!"

The volume of Skinner's voice brought Reggie scurrying back from the 
kitchen.

"What in the hell's bells is going on in here?"  Reggie looked over at a 
wide-eyes, terrified Mulder.  "Why are you scarin' that boy, Walter?"

"He's not half as scared as he's going to be.  Go to my study, Fox, strip, 
and wait for me with your nose in the corner.  Now!"

Mulder scrambled out of his chair, casting one quick pleading glance at 
Reggie, then scurried from the room.

"That boy didn't finish his dinner."  Reggie growled, making it clear just 
what he thought of that particular infraction.

"He'll eat after I'm finished with him."

"He can't eat when he's upset, and I have a feeling you plan to upset him 
quite a bit."

Skinner narrowed his eyes dangerously, infuriated upon seeing it had little 
or no effect on his former captain.  "I don't plan to upset him, I plan to 
apply my hand to his bare backside.  You needn't overly concern yourself, 
Captain Purdue, he'll live to irritate me another day.  And he <will> finish 
his dinner afterward."

Mulder shivered in the cool room as he stood facing the corner, his stomach 
tied in knots of anticipation.  His body tensed as he heard the door open 
behind him but he kept his nose buried in the corner. He heard the sounds of 
a fire being laid in the hearth and wondered if a servant had been sent or 
if the captain was attending to the chore himself.  He hated the idea that a 
servant was seeing him standing naked and shamed in a corner awaiting a 
spanking.

All was quiet for several minutes as the room slowly warmed.  Mulder 
continued to tremble, flinching at every small sound.  A drawer opened and 
then closed.  Then there was the unmistakable sound of leather creaking as 
Captain Skinner sat himself down in one of the big armchairs close to the 
fire.

"You have a beautiful ass, Fox."

Mulder let his chin drop down to his chest, hot color washing into his face.

"It's unfortunate that something that beautiful is so frequently made to 
feel the brunt of your poor judgement.  Not that I'm complaining, mind you.  
I've become quite fond of watching it turn rosy under my hand while your 
gorgeous body writhes and bucks over my knee.  It's all quite arousing."

Skinner paused but when the cabin boy made no comment, he continued, "Very 
well, I will assume by your silence that you agree with your forthcoming 
punishment and are ready to proceed.  Come over here, brat, and get into the 
proper position for a very thorough bottom warming."

Mulder reluctantly turned around to face his captain who sat comfortably in 
his big leather chair, calmly rolling up the shirt sleeve over his massive 
right forearm.

Mulder swallowed hard, "Please sir, couldn't I bend over the back of a chair 
or something?"

"No.  As I mentioned, I've become quite fond of the feel of your naked body 
squirming so temptingly against me.  Now get over here before I lose my 
patience."

Mulder quickly complied, wiggling around on the big man's lap trying to make 
himself as comfortable as possible.  "And just what <patience> would that 
be, sir?  Ouch!"

"Your problem, boy," Smack!  "Is that you seem to lack basic 
self-preservation instincts."  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  "Well, you're going 
to learn them!"  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!
"Don't doubt that for a minute." Smack!  Smack!  Smack!

Skinner watched as the smooth white skin presented up to him turned pink, 
then red, then scarlet as the cabin boy howled his distress to the four 
walls.

Do you know why you're being punished this time, Fox?"

"I gave the leprechaun's gold to Mother Maggie and the sisters?"  Fox asked.

"That's only one of the reasons, and that cave doesn't belong to 
leprechauns, brat.  Not that there's any such thing to begin with.  It's my 
cave.  My treasure.  You gave away the gold that belongs to the Chave 
Terreur, cabin boy."

"Are you sure?  The leprechauns said . . ."

"Stop!  There are no such things as leprechauns!  I won't tolerate lying, 
Fox."

"I'm not lying!  Ah-h-h-h!"

Tom Colton once again stood with his ear pressed up against the door.   This 
time the captain wouldn't have the option to stay inside once he had 
finished with the irritating Fox.

The jealous man outside the door delighted in the sound of a hard hand 
hitting bare flesh, while Fox's pleading cries were music to his ears.  He 
just didn't understand why a handsome, powerful man like Captain Skinner 
would put up with such an nuisance like Fox.  Sure the kid was good-looking, 
so what?  Pretty boys could be had in every port in the Caribbean.

After what seemed like a lifetime to Tom, and even longer to Mulder, the 
yelling stopped and  Colton heard the sound of soothing words of comfort 
coming from inside the study.  Tom tapped his foot impatiently as he waited 
for the door to open.   Tom began to pace in front of the door, watching 
closely for any indication that Skinner would appear.

He stopped and looked up as a loud burst of what sounded suspiciously like 
his captain laughing came from the other side of the door.  Surely not!  The 
captain never laughed!  A few moments passed, then there was a surprised 
shriek, this time from Mulder.  Abruptly the door rattled and then flew 
open.  Tom looked on in amazement as a still chuckling Captain Skinner 
walked into the hall, carrying a disheveled Fox in his massive arms.

"I can't believe you said that, Brat."  Skinner chuckled, bouncing the cabin 
boy in his arms.

Mulder struggled half-heartedly in his captain's embrace, the tears on his 
face now due to laughter instead of his spanking.  "I didn't say the 
leprechaun looked exactly like you.  Your ears aren't as pointed and he had 
more hair.  Ah-h-h-h-h!  Stop that!"  Mulder squirmed, trying to escape 
Skinner's tickling fingers.  "This is ridiculous, I'm a grown man!  Put me 
down!"

"No.  Every time I put you down, you run off and get yourself into trouble.  
I may just carry you around like this for the rest of our stay on the 
island."

"Mother Maggie isn't going to approve of . . .Ah-h-h-h, stop!  Stop!  I 
didn't mean it!  Stop!  I won't mention her name again!"  Mulder promised as 
Skinner managed to hold him and tickle him at the same time.

Captain Skinner stopped abruptly as he came face to face with a very 
disconcerted Tom Colton.

"What is it Tom?"

"Uh . . .I was . . .that is . . ."

"Put me down!"  Mulder hissed as he tried to get out of this embarrassing 
position as his enemy stared at him spitefully.

"Be still, Fox."  Skinner bounced his cabin boy in his arms once more.  
"It's all right, Tom, what did you need to discuss with me?  Has Gentleman 
John's pirate ship been spotted again?"

"No, sir, it isn't about Gentleman John.  It's uh . . ." Colton glanced back 
at Mulder who had settled down in Skinner's arms as ordered, and was now 
eying Colton as curiously as was the captain.

"Well I needed your advice on some ideas I have for our next voyage, Captain 
Skinner, and I was wondering if you would come have a mug of rum with me 
down at the Boar & Ale tonight?"

Mulder's eyes narrowed in what he hoped was the same dangerous manner he had 
seen his captain use so successfully.  Colton didn't seem overly impressed, 
keeping his eyes on the captain hopefully.

"I thank you for the kind offer, Tom, but perhaps some other night.  I have 
plans for this evening."  He bounced Mulder again, this time taking him by 
surprise.  The cabin boy, sure he was about to be dropped on his butt, 
instinctively threw both arms around the captain's neck.  Skinner chuckled.  
"Thanks again for the offer, Tom.  I'll try to find a few minutes to talk 
with you tomorrow."

Colton watched angrily as Skinner walked lightly away as if the grown man in 
his arms weighed less than a feather.  Tom stomach burned with fury.  He had 
to get rid of Fox.  It was the only way he would ever have a chance with the 
captain.

When Skinner reached his chambers with his squirming bundle, he kicked the 
door closed behind him, walking straight to the bed, tossing Fox right into 
the middle, laughing hard as the cabin boy drowned in the duck-down 
mattress.

"Hey!"

"Hey, yourself.  Get those clothes off!  I warned you that spanking your 
butt made me primed to bed you."

"Then I may have to be bad all the time."

"How will I tell the difference?"

"Very funny."  Mulder rolled off the high bed, already pulling at his 
clothing before his feet even hit the floor.

He had just stepped out of his trousers and given them a hit or miss pitch 
toward a nearby chair, when he was once again lifted in the air and thrown 
onto the massive bed.  This time he wasn't alone when he landed.

"You are so beautiful, you almost take my breath away."  Skinner hissed as 
his hot mouth roamed down Mulder's throat.

"And here I thought you were breathing hard from all the work it took to 
beat me."

"I <do not> beat you!  I correct you.  I guide you.  I offer deterrents to 
your penchant for risky behavior."

"Well my backside hurts like hell from your latest deterrent."

Skinner nipped at the soft skin at the base of Mulder's neck, skin that he 
had been up till then, kissing sweetly.

"Ouch!"

"You'd best not bring up the current state of your backside.  It makes me 
think of my gold, and when I think of my gold I think of that 
holier-than-thou Mother Maggie. And when I think about her I think about you 
giving my hard-won treasure to
that . . .that . . .woman, and I want to blister your bottom all over 
again."

Mulder swallowed hard.  "Consider the subject dropped, sir."

"Wise choice, brat.  Now where was I?  Oh yes."  Skinner moved his scorching 
mouth down to claim one hard little nipple.  Mulder gasped loudly, beginning 
to tremble all over.

"I love the way you respond to my touch, my precious little cabin boy.  I 
should go back and thank Mr. Blevins for bestowing me with such an exquisite 
gift."

"I'm sure . . .Oh! . . .that Mr. Blevins doesn't see it, Oh! . . .quite that 
way . . .Um-m-m-m!  I think he thinks of me more as stolen property than as 
a gift."

"Well," Skinner licked on sucked on every available inch of smooth, cool 
skin available to him.  "This is one piece of property he will never 
reclaim."

Tom Colton stood outside the bedroom door, his face red with rage.  He 
couldn't take this any more.  He turned on his heel only to be confronted by 
Reggie Purdue, one eyebrow raised high above one dark eye.

"You lost, boy?"

Colton swallowed hard, "I uh. . .just wanted a word with the captain, that's 
all."

"Is that so?  It would appear that any words you want with Captain Skinner 
will have to wait for the morning.  He seems to be otherwise engaged at the 
moment.  Or didn't you notice?"

"I noticed."  Tom snarled before he thought better of it.

"I'd watch myself, boy," Purdue warned.  "I wouldn't want to be the man who 
caused any harm to come to Fox Mulder.  That would make Captain Skinner one 
deadly mean son-of-a-bitch, if you get my drift."

"I get it."  Colton's eyes narrowed as another deep, rich laugh erupted from 
behind the closed bedroom door.

"I'm glad to hear it.  That cabin boy makes the captain happier than I've 
ever seen him.  I wouldn't take kindly to anyone ruining that for him.  So 
why don't you get your worthless carcass out of here now.  You may have the 
captain fooled with your consummate pandering but I'm an old, battered 
sea-dog and I've got my eye on you, boy."

Tom Colton left the house, not bothering to make any promises he had no 
intention of keeping.

* * *
Captain Skinner pulled his cabin boy a little tighter against his chest, as 
the big white stallion made its way over a fallen tree that was blocking the 
path to the southern most banana groves.  The captain had been alerted to a 
problem there that needed his immediate attention.

When delivering the message, Tom Colton had mentioned that the bananas were 
almost ready for harvest, and perhaps Fox would enjoy seeing the grove.

Skinner, never wanting to be separated from Fox for any length of time, 
gladly took Tom's advice.  Hence, the pretty cabin boy now occupied his 
usual spot on the saddle in front of him.

They were riding along a steep ridge that had a magnificent view of the 
ocean hundreds of feet below.  It was one of the captain's favorite spots.

"Isn't it beautiful, Fox.  You can see almost the whole southern half of the 
island from this spot."

"It's incredible," Mulder breathed in that awe-struck tone of voice that 
Skinner had come to cherish.  "Couldn't we go just a little closer to the 
edge?  I want to see all of it."

"No.  This is close enough.  The ground of the ledge is sandstone and a bit 
unstable.  You'll have to contend yourself with the view from here.  And if 
you ever sneak away from me and come to this place, don't you dare go any 
closer than this, brat."

Mulder twisted in the saddle to give his captain an innocent look,
"Me?  Sneak away from you?  Never!"

"Right!"  Skinner smiled as he playfully boxed Fox's ears.  "Don't use those 
big eyes on me.  You heard what I said.  If I ever find out you went closer 
to the edge, you won't sit down for . . ."

The captain's threat was interrupted by the sound of musket fire just beyond 
the next corpse of trees.  Skinner quickly lifted the cabin boy down from 
his saddle.

"Stay here, Fox.  I'm going to investigate, and I don't want you in the line 
of fire.  Don't move from this spot!"

"Yes, sir."

Mulder watched worriedly as his captain rode off in the direction of the 
disturbance.  He bit on his bottom lip, wishing there were some way that he 
could protect his captain.

"Hello, Fox."

Mulder quickly turned to see Robert Modell standing a few yards behind him, 
smiling wolfishly.

"What do you want, Modell?"

"You need to learn some manners, boy.  When you belong to me, we'll have to 
address that little character flaw."

"I'll never belong to you, Modell."

"So you say." Modell graced Mulder with another of his shark smiles.  "You 
know, if I were you, I think I'd move over towards me a little closer.  That 
snake at your feet looks mighty  hungry."

Mulder glanced down, his breath catching in his chest, to see a huge snake 
staring up at him only inches from his toes.  Mulder started slowly backing 
away, but not wanting to put himself any closer to Modell, he went the other 
way, towards the edge of the cliff.

"Come this way, Fox!"  Modell urged, holding his hand out towards the 
spooked cabin boy.

Mulder took a few more steps away, his eyes never leaving the deadly snake 
still so close to him.

"Fox," Modell commanded.  "Come this . . ."

Suddenly, Tom Colton appeared out of the nearby trees, hurling himself at 
Fox.  Mulder didn't even have time to look up before he went hurling over 
the side of the deadly drop-off.

"I wanted him alive, Colton," Robert Modell seethed.

"Well I didn't!"  Tom snarled back.  "We'd better get out of here.  The 
captain is on his way back.  And I for one, have no intention of letting him 
know who killed his troublesome little cabin boy."

* * *
"Fox?"  Skinner stood up in his stirrups, looking around the area for his 
wayward charge.

"Where the hell did that damned kid get off to now?"  Skinner muttered in 
irritation as he dismounted, still visually searching the immediate area.

"Fox!  Where the hell are you, brat?"

The captain placed both hands on his hips as he looked down at the soft 
ground.  Then he saw the sand had been disturbed all the way up to the edge 
of the cliff.

"No!"

Skinner ran for the edge, remembering to stop a few feet away to drop to his 
belly and crawl over to the brink.  He took a deep breath before gathering 
his courage to look below, fully expecting to see Fox lying broken and 
bloody on the perilous rocks below.

He slowly opened his eyes to peer down at the sharp, deadly rocks and 
roaring surf that lay at the foot of the high cliff.  He could see no sign 
of his beloved cabin boy.

Then a sob of pure relief tore from his lips as he spied Fox lying on an 
overhang only a few yards below the lip of the ledge.  The outcropping of 
rock was only wide enough to support the slender cabin boy but it had been 
enough to save his life.  Now Skinner had to find a way to retrieve him.

"What's happened, captain?"

Skinner felt another wave of relief surge through his body as he recognized 
the voice of his first mate.  Turning carefully on the unstable ledge, he 
saw Byers, Langly and Frohike looking back at him fearfully.

"Fox has somehow fallen over the edge of the cliff but landed on a ledge.  
He's hurt but I can see his chest moving, so I know he's still alive.  We 
have to find a way to bring him back up here as quickly as possible."

The three men dismounted their horses, walking forward, careful not to get 
too close to the edge where their captain was so precariously perched.

"We can use the horses to lower someone down to the overhang,"  Byers said, 
with his usual instant appraisal of a situation and its possible solution.  
"Then he can tie a second rope on Fox, allowing both to be pulled easily to 
the top.  And please, Captain Skinner, do come away from that ledge."

Skinner resisted the urge to just lay his head down in his arms and sob with 
joy.  He had often times wondered what he would do without his sensible, 
intelligent, always-in-control first mate.  Now, he owed the man his very 
life.

The captain reluctantly took one last look at the unconscious cabin boy 
before slowly crawling backward away from the edge.

The three seamen were already rigging ropes and tying knots,  forming a two 
harnesses and tow ropes.

"I'll go," Langly offered, anxious to once again have an opportuity to 
garner his captain's gratitude.  He envisioned his future life abroad the 
Chauve Terreur to be one of ease and immense profit.

"No," Skinner laid a hand on Langly's shoulder.  "I appreiciate the offer, 
Ringo, but I have to go myself."

"Mr. Langly is far lighter than you, captain."  Byers pointed out in his 
most logical manner.  "Perhaps you should consider . . ."

"We have four horses, John.  That should be sufficient to handle even my 
larger frame.  Should Fox awaken, I don't want him to be more frightened 
than necessary.  I have to be the one to go."

"Yes, sir."  Byers nodded at his captain, as he turned to his crewmen.  
"Ready gentlemen?"

The four horses were hitched to the ropes, as the three men above guided the 
rope of the descending captain.  Skinner slowly made his way down the cliff, 
trying not to dislodge the soft sand and shall which fell in a shower to 
cover the still body lying below.

Transferring as little of his weight as possible to the narrow, volatile 
ledge, Skinner ran searching hands over the body of his cabin boy.

"His heartbeat is strong.  I don't feel any breaks.  Must have hit his head 
when he landed."  Skinner shouted back up.

The captain swiftly secured the harness around Mulder's lifeless body.  
"Bring him up."

Skinner watched with his heart in his throat as his cabin boy's limp body 
began its slow ascension to the solid ground a few yards above them.  Once 
Mulder had been dragged over the edge, the captain felt the tug on his own 
harness and he too began his slow climb to the top.

Pulled a few feet away from the lip of the cliff, and on solid ground once 
more, Skinner quickly shed his harness and ran to his cabin boy.  He ran 
probing fingers over every inch of the boy under his hands, still finding 
only a few bruises and scrapes.  Nothing more.  He ran a hand through the 
thick dark hair, coming away this time with bloody fingers.

"He's bleeding!  Let's get him back to the house so Reggie can have a look 
at him."

"Mother Maggie knows medicine."  Frohike offered.

Skinner looked up, a scowl covering his face, making the little man flinch 
back.  Then the captain looked back down at the young man he held in his 
arms.  "You're right, Frohike.  Go get her."

Mother Maggie Scully was a whirlwind of Irish love, fierce determination and 
an unwavering belief in her God.  With her sweet face, black hair and 
snapping blue eyes, she took over the household, clucking over Fox until he 
was so spoiled that Skinner was sure he would be useless from that point on.

She also sermonized the pirate captain on his wicked ways until he felt 
equally sure that he would have to take his saber to his own throat just to 
escape her pious tirade.

But to Skinner's amazement, she showed Reggie Purdue only the upmost 
respect.  Reggie refused to share with Walter his secret for winning over 
the zealous sister.

Mother Maggie stayed at the main house for one full week.  It was the 
longest week of Captain Skinner's life since the good sister had 
unequivocally forbidden the captain to sleep in his own bedchamber.  He 
missed his cabin boy with an ache in his heart that was almost unbearable.

Finally Mother Maggie took her leave, and the whole house breathed a sigh of 
relief.  Not to be rid of the sweet, soft-spoken missionary, but because 
during her stay the captain had turned into a short-tempered, mean-spirited, 
intolerant tyrant.

* * *
Mulder awoke one sunny morning two weeks after his accident feeling almost 
as good as new.  Part of the reason could have been the  wholly wonderful 
feel of the captain's lips on the back of his neck.

Mulder smiled up at his captain.  "Good morning, sir."

"Good morning yourself, brat."  Skinner kissed his lips.  "Are you feeling 
better today?"

"Yes, sir.  I'm feeling like my old self again."

"Now I really have cause to worry."

Mulder rolled his eyes at the captain, earning a sharp bark of laughter and 
another kiss.  "Yes, I can see you're back to normal, brat.  You're a very 
lucky young man."

"Yes I am."  Mulder leaned up to place his lips firmly on the captain's, 
deepening the kiss until he felt Skinner's breath grown rough and ragged in 
his chest.  The captain pulled away with a groan.

"We don't have time for that, brat, I have to go with the plantation 
overseer to inspect some sugar cane fields this morning.  I've put it off 
far too long but now that you're mended, I have little choice but to see to 
my responsibilities."

"I'm sorry that I've kept you from your duties, captain."

"I have no regrets, Fox.  I know what is most important to my heart."  
Another soft, loving kiss on Mulder's willing lips.  "But, I want you to 
stay here and rest all day.  No running off to investigate anything.  I 
don't care if the Almighty himself comes to impart Commandments eleven 
through twenty,  I want you to tell him that you have to <stay in the 
house>.  Am I clear?"

Mulder rolled his eyes, "Yes, sir."

"I'd watch that attitude, brat, you bottom wasn't injured in the fall.  I 
won't hesitate to take my hand to it."

"Yes, sir."  Mulder chanced a glance up through his lashes.  A look he had 
learned was almost impossible for his captain to resist.  That and a pouting 
lip could get him almost anything.  Almost.

"Forget it.  You stay here - all day."

"Oh, all right!"  Mulder snuggled down further into the warm blankets.

Skinner chuckled, kissing him yet again.  "I'll be back for dinner."  He 
tapped Mulder on the end of his nose, "Be good."

Mulder rolled his eyes again.  "I'm twenty-three years old, you don't have 
to remind me to behave like I'm some little kid."

"Have you ever noticed, Fox, that you have to remind people quite frequently 
that you're twenty-three?  Do you think there might be a reason for that?'

Mulder rolled his eyes once more, earning himself a sharp slap to his 
blanket-covered bottom and a quick departing kiss.

Mulder awoke for the second time knowing that he was not alone in the room.  
He peaked out from under his blankets, wondering who had come to wake him.

"Hello, pretty boy."

"Lucius?"

Lucius Hartwell stood smiling at him from the end of the bed.  Tall, dark, 
exquisitely handsome and a genuine vampire.  One who was willing to talk at 
length about his blood-sucking existence or non-existence whichever way you 
chose to look at it.  It was the ultimate siren song for Mulder.

"None other, beautiful Fox.  I have something I want to show you.  Get 
dressed.  Or not.  Actually I kind of like that look on you."

Mulder glanced down to where the blankets had fallen into his lap, leaving 
most of him bare to the vampire's leering gaze.  He quickly pulled them up 
to cover himself.

"I can't leave the house today.  I promised the captain."

"Oh, I see."  Hartwell, long black cape flowing behind him, walked slowly 
around the room examining the assorted pieces of sculpture that the captain 
had accumulated on his many travels.  Mulder didn't even want to think about 
how Skinner might have obtained the priceless items.

"Too bad," Lucius turned to look at the cabin boy, a knowing smile gracing 
his beautiful face.  "And here I was all ready to show you all the secrets 
of the vampires.  But it you're not interested, well I'll just . . ."

Hartwell started to wrap his cloak around his face.  An sure sign, Mulder 
had learned, of his imminent departure.

"No wait!"

"I thought not."  Lucius smiled at him again.  "Get dressed, pretty boy."

* * *
Mulder squirmed in the saddle in front of Lucius.  He felt uncomfortable 
being this close to the vampire.  For one thing Lucius' body was cold.  
Really cold.  And for another he wasn't the captain.  Mulder just didn't 
understand why no one would trust him with his own horse.

"Why are we riding a horse?"  Mulder whined for at least the tenth time in 
the last hour.  "Can't you fly?   I thought you couldn't be out in the 
sunlight?  Is it true that you are repelled by garlic?  Where are we going?  
Are we going to get there soon?  What do you have to show me?"

"Stop!"  Luscus Hartwell commanded, causing the cabin boy to flinch and 
stare back at him with wide, alarmed eyes.  The vampire took, what for him, 
amounted to a deep, calming breath.  "Enough already! You're driving me to 
put a stake through my own heart with your incessant questions.  How does 
the captain put up with you every day?"

"He finds my curiosity charming,"  Mulder pouted.

Hartwell shook his head, "There is just no accounting for mortal taste.  To 
answer your questions, we're riding a horse because, yes I can fly," he 
looked at the cabin boy pointedly.  "But you can't."

"Oh."  Mulder nodded.

"Sunlight doesn't bother me but garlic gives me indigestion.   I'm taking 
you up into the mountains, and we should be there in about another hour. And 
you'll see what I have to show you when we get there. Now be quiet and stop 
believing all that malarkey you've heard about vampires.  For the most part, 
we're just a bunch of nice, normal people."

"You drink blood."  Mulder felt compelled to point out, still sulking.

"Yes, and your's is beginning to look mighty tasty to me."

Mulder swallowed hard as he turned back around in the saddle, his eyes fixed 
firmly on the trail ahead.

They reached the cave in the early afternoon.  Although the opening itself 
was very small, the cave itself was huge, with several tunnels leading off 
into other directions.

Lucius, with unerring night-vision took Mulder's hand, leading him down one 
of the darker passages.

They passed several entrances to large caverns, finally stopping before a 
hole in the wall only about three feet high and four feet wide.  Mulder 
leaned down to peer inside.

"What it this?  It's too dark, I can't see anything.  Why did you bring me 
to see a hole in a cave wall?"

He felt a tap on his shoulder.  He looked up and into the glittering blue 
eyes of the gorgeous vampire.  Mulder felt his eyes glaze over as his mind 
turned to mush.  Through a deep fog, he felt Lucius begin to unbutton his 
shirt.

"I just wanted you to show you my bed, pretty Fox."

* * *
Captain Reggie Purdue entered the high mountain cave cautiously.

He had found Fox missing from the captain's bedchamber while the blankets 
were still warm.  Grabbing his trusty old razor strap, he headed out in 
search of the wayward cabin boy.  He did not want Walter to come home and 
find Fox gone.

He heard an all too familiar noise off to the right.  He lifted the old 
lantern that he had found sitting at the mouth of the cavern, and carefully 
made his way down the stone passage.  When the natural corridor ended in a 
large catacomb, Purdue drew his breath in sharply. Mulder was there with a 
man who was very familiar to Reggie.

A man with super human strength who was holding the unresisting young cabin 
boy aloft, while his voracious, sucking mouth was firmly attached to Fox's 
exposed cock.

"Put him down, Lucius."

Lucius Hartwell reluctantly removed his lips from the gorgeous man's hard 
shaft.  Fox groaned at the loss of the warm heat around his cock.

"Ah, Reggie."  The vampire whined.

"He doesn't belong to you, he's Walter's boy."

"But, he's so pretty . . ."

"You owe me, Lucius and you know it."

"You saved us from one little slaughter.  One tiny mass extinction, and I 
hear about it for the rest of my life."

"Gentleman John was going to burn you all to dust if I hadn't stopped him.  
I invited you to this island.  I've kept Walter from knowing about you.  You 
owe me.  Now put him down."

"Shit!  How can you deny a man his very sustenance, Reggie?"

"Don't even try that on me, Lucius.  First of all, you don't drink blood 
because you have to, you drink it because you like to.  And secondly, it 
didn't look like blood you were after this time."

The vampire shrugged,  "Potato - Potato.  It's all about body fluids, 
Reggie."

"Humph!"  Reggie scowled at the handsome vampire.  "You heard me, put him 
down, he's taken."

"Jeez!  You take all the fun out of being a vampire, Reg."

Mulder came to his senses about half way down the mountain.  He was once 
again sharing a horse, but this time he was draped over the saddle like a 
sack of meal.

He looked up at his companion, only to wish he had stayed in his bedazzled 
state of mind a little while longer.  Reggie looked furious.  It was 
something Mulder had hoped to never see directed his way.

"Uh . . .Reggie, could I get up now.  I'm getting a little dizzy down here."

"Shut up, Fox."

Oo-ka-a-y.  Mulder rode along for another twenty minutes, his stomach 
beginning to ache from its constant contact with the hard saddle.

"Um . . .are you mad at me, Captain Purdue?  Ouch!"

A sharp smack landed on his upturned butt, stinging fiercely even through 
his heavy trousers.  Well, that answered that question.  Fox didn't try to 
ask anything else.

Mulder's face flamed bright red as they rode into the yard of the main 
house, him still in his humiliating upside-down position over Reggie's lap.  
As soon as the animal stopped, he found himself unceremoniously flipped off 
to land on his backside on the hard ground.

"Get your butt into the captain's study and wait for me."  Reggie snarled as 
he handed the reins of the horse to a wide-eyed stableboy.

Mulder didn't wait to be told again.  He was sure any argument on his part 
would lead to very painful and public consequences he had no desire to face.

He entered the all too familiar study, his stomach fluttering like a flock 
of gulls had somehow gotten inside him.  He wasn't sure what to do.  Reggie 
had never ordered him here before.  He sat down in one of the leather 
chairs, his leg twitching nervously.

His apprehension got the best of him, so he jumped to his feet to pace in 
front of the fireplace.  The fireplace where he and the captain had shared 
such wonderful moments on so many occasions.  He didn't want to think about 
that right now.  He was not looking forward to facing Captain Skinner this 
evening.  That was, of course, if he survived his upcoming meeting with 
Reggie Purdue.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door finally opened.  Reggie 
stepped into the room, the angry scowl still firmly on his face.  He nailed 
Mulder with a quelling look.

"Reg . . .Reggie?"  Mulder swallowed hard, his face losing all color, as he 
saw the razor strap dangling from the big man's right hand.

"You just couldn't do it, could you, boy?  You just had to go and get 
yourself into trouble on my watch.  Well, I don't take kindly to having to 
go traipsing all over this damned island looking for some aggravating, 
little brat-boy, that the captain, for some reason known only to himself, 
happens to value above everything else.  Now you get your sweet, white ass 
bared.  I've known since the minute I laid eyes on you that you were 
destined for a taste of my old razor strop."

‘Please, I can explain . . ."

"You can explain it to the captain.  You're going to still be standing over 
there in that corner showing off your sore backside when he gets home.  I 
don't have a doubt in my mind he'll expect a full account of your actions 
then.  Now get those pants down and lean up against the fireplace, boy."

Seeing no way out, Mulder did as he was told.  Feet apart for balance, 
placing his hands firmly on the mantel and leaning forward, his bared bottom 
presented itself up and out, ready for Reggie's unwanted attention.

"It's been a while since I had to use this on anyone but I think you'll find 
I haven't lost my touch, little boy."

And the strop slammed down on its intended target like a bolt of lightening 
from above.  The bright, red welt that painted itself across Mulder's bottom 
burned like fire, and he felt tears spring to his eyes from that first 
stripe.

The next eleven didn't get any better.  In fact they got worse.  That strap 
was so old and subtle that it wrapped itself around Mulder's butt like it 
had been made to fit him perfectly.  Touching flame to all his most tender 
areas.

He yelled, he pleaded, he begged Reggie to at least slow down a little but 
Captain Purdue was a man with a mission.  A mission to turn one vexing 
little cabin boy into a very sorry young man.

He accomplished his task long before he lay the old strop aside and helped 
the weeping cabin boy to his assigned corner, pants still around his ankles.

It was well over two hours before Mulder heard the captain enter the main 
hall.  He was exhausted from his stay in the corner but still not anxious to 
face Skinner.

His whole body stiffened as he heard the door open behind him.  He didn't 
dare turn around to look.  He waited for whomever had come in to say 
something to him.  Finally after several long, agonizing minutes he felt the 
captain's hand on his shoulder, turning him to face the disappointed brown 
eyes.  Fox would have much preferred to see anger in those dark chocolate 
depths.

"Reggie told me what happened."

Mulder stared down at the floor but when he encountered the sight of his 
pants lying so shamefully around his ankles, he quickly looked back up.  
"I'm really sorry, sir."

"I'm sure you are.  Reggie can be hell with that old stop of his.  I want 
you to come into dinner now, Fox.  We'll address your disobedience after 
we've eaten."

"I'm not hun. . ."

"Don't even say it.  You know I don't approve of you skipping meals.  It's 
my guess that you haven't eaten all day.  Am I correct?"

Mulder nodded miserably.

"Just as I thought.  You will dress and go to the dining room immediately, 
Fox."

Dinner was a disaster for Fox.  Modell and Colton were there of course.  
Both smirking and trying every way possible to find out why their other 
three dinner companions were so unusually quiet and tense.  Even baiting 
Captain Skinner about his cute little cabin boy had little or no effect this 
evening.

In fact, the only words to leave the captain's mouth was a blatant threat 
that if Fox didn't stop pushing the food around his plate and eat, the 
captain would take care of the chore himself.

Fox ate his dinner.

The meal finally ended, and finding no information forthcoming from Skinner, 
Mulder or Purdue, the other two men were forced to retire to their 
respective quarters.  Once they had left the dining room, the axe fell for 
Mulder.

"Fox, you are to go to my chambers and put on your nightshirt.  Then you are 
to walk down to the stables . . ."

"In my nightshirt, sir?"  Mulder asked, aghast.

"Yes, in nothing but your nightshirt.  When you get there you are to tell 
the stable master to prepare a sturdy birchrod for my use."

"Birchrod, sir?"  Mulder asked, swallowing hard.  He didn't know exactly 
what that was but by the look on Captain Purdue's face it couldn't bode well 
for himself.

"Tell him it's to be used on your bare bottom, brat!  He'll know just what 
to do.  I want you to watch while he makes it, then I want you to bring it 
back here to me."

"Yes, sir."  Mulder walked quickly out of the room, lest he incite his 
captain's anger any further.

"Surely you aren't going to birch that boy, Walter."  Purdue glowered at 
Skinner.

"You're the one who started oiling that razor strap the minute you laid eyes 
on him, and now you're defending him?"

"I'm not defending him.  I was mad at hell at him when I found him in that 
cave today, but I still think the birchrod is too much.  He's a good boy, a 
bit wild, but still a good boy."

"He'll be a better boy after he's danced to the tune of the birch.  And," 
Skinner pointed out.  "I can't see how you have any room to complain about 
it, you certainly laid into me enough times with one of those things."

"That's different.  He's sensitive."

"He's a brat."  Skinner corrected.

Mulder watched miserably as the stable master, Carl Peterson tightly tied a 
piece of heavy hemp twine around the end of a bouquet of about a dozen slim, 
whippy switches.  He had made Mulder pick out each switch himself, and then 
carefully cut it from a small tree that grew close to the side of the barn.  
The leaves had been removed but all of the small twigs and buds had been 
left in place on each of the switches.

"Lift your nightshirt and bend over, Fox."  Petersen commanded.

"Wh . . .why?"

"I have to make sure this fits your bottom correctly."

Mulder squeezed his eyes shut as he turned to bend at the waist, raising his 
nightshirt to his waist.  He shivered as the cool night air caressed his 
exposed skin.  He flinched as he felt the birchrod touch him, its branches 
spreading out across his unprotected flesh.  He looked over his shoulder to 
see Peterson added two more switches to one side of the bundle, then again 
measuring the revised implement against his condemned bottom.  When Carl 
seemed satisfied with the ‘fit' he allowed Mulder to stand up again, the hem 
of his nightshirt falling to mid- calf.

Peterson handed the finished birchrod to the hapless cabin boy.

"Whoo-ee, this's gonna hurt like the devil, boy.  You ever been birched 
before?"  Mulder tried to take the bundle of switches, but Peterson wasn't 
ready to relinquish his hold just yet.

"No, sir."  Mulder tugged on the end of the bundle, but the stable master 
only smirked at him, not letting go.

"Well let me tell you, it's a hundred times worse than a regular switching.  
See all those whippy little twigs, they're going to fan out over your bare 
rump and sting every inch of it with every stroke.  You'll feel like a whole 
hive of jungle bees is stinging your defenseless butt.  Yep, I sure wouldn't 
want to be you tonight.  You'll be lucky if you can sit down this time next 
month, kid."

Mulder gave a yank on the hated birchrod, finally successful in his efforts 
to take possession of the ghastly thing.  He turned quickly on his heel, the 
stable master's laughter following him out of the barn.

When he arrived back at the house, he handed the birchrod to the captain, 
who examined it carefully while Reggie glared at him from across the table.

Skinner handed it back to Mulder.  "That should do the job very nicely.  You 
will go to my study, Fox.  I want to find you bent over my desk, butt high 
in the air.  This birchrod should be lying right in front of your nose.  I 
want your eyes on it and nothing else until I come in to deliver your 
punishment.  I think it will help you concentrate on why you find yourself 
in this unfortunate situation yet again."

Mulder trudged to the study, his heart downcast.  He quickly leaned across 
the big gleaming desk, the wood cool against his chest even through the 
heavy cotton of his nightshirt.  He moved his legs apart to better support 
his weight, then leaned on his elbows, his eyes on the birch-rod lying on 
the desk in front of him.

It certainly was a vicious looking thing.  Long, springy switches with tiny 
buds and twigs sticking out in every direction.  He was sure he could almost 
feel how they would bite into his unprotected and so recently strapped 
flesh.  His buttocks contracted spasmodically at the very thought.

He felt like he had been lying here for hours, studiously examining every 
inch of the hated birch as the cool night air wafted ominously up under his 
bed clothing to tickle his naked backside.  He felt gooseflesh prickle his 
exposed skin but felt assured that by the time this night was over the least 
of his worries would be a cold butt.

He swallowed hard as he heard the study door open behind him. Big blunt 
fingers wrapped themselves around the tail of his nightshirt, then his flesh 
was slowly exposed as his only garment was folded up and over until it 
rested midway up his back.  He shivered as his bared, already sore bottom 
now lie exposed and completely vulnerable to his captain's discretion

There was no sound for quite some time as Mulder felt his captain's eyes 
inspecting his humiliating display.  He felt a big calloused hand caress his 
red butt.

"Do you know why you're being punished, Fox?"

"I went with Lucius Hartwell to the vampire cave?"  Fox asked.

"There are no such things as vampires, Fox."

"Yes, there are.  Lucius is a . . ."

"Are we going to go through this again?  I won't tolerate you making up 
stories, brat.  Now spread you legs further apart.  I want these switches to 
be able to bite every inch of this deserving backside of yours.  Lay your 
head in your arms and stick you butt right out where I can get to it.  I 
want a nice open field for my work."

Mulder heard a menacing swish behind him and then his entire bottom was 
simultaneously stung by the pliant little switches.

Skinner watched as Mulder shifted his weight from foot to foot, his bottom 
wiggling frantically, already well covered with stinging welts.  He raised 
the birch high above his left shoulder, keeping his eye on his quivering 
target.

The birch exploded once more across the hapless bottom.  Each of the many 
switches fanning out to bite it's own small portion of unprotected skin.

"What else did you do, cabin boy?"

"That . . .that's all I did, sir, honestly."  Mulder gasped, gripping the 
edge of the desk harder, closing his eyes.  His bottom felt like a huge, 
defenseless target, high in the air, wiggling frantically, all but begging 
for another visit from the terrible birch.

The third lash landed just a little lower, the supple switches reaching down 
to sting Fox's tender upper thighs.  This stroke forced a cry of tortured 
distress from the wretched cabin boy.

"You risked your life, Fox.  You aren't to go blundering around this island 
by yourself.  It's too dangerous.  Don't do it again."

"I won't!  I won't!  Oh please, sir," Mulder sobbed.  "That hurts so much!"

"Yes, I'm sure it does.  Perhaps next time you will think about the 
consequences before lying to me.  And just maybe, before taking off on some 
ill-conceived adventure, you'll remember just how much your backside is 
hurting right now."

"I will, sir.  I promise."  The cabin boy sobbed contritely.

He raised the bundle of switches high above the doomed bottom. Mulder let 
loose with a heart-wrenching sob as the angry little twigs found their way 
into the deep, open crevice that separated his now throbbing bottom cheeks.

Skinner studied the withering bottom so helplessly presented for further 
chastisement.  What had once been smooth skin was now mottled scarlet, 
overlaid with thin welts and tiny blisters formed by the birchrod's buds and 
twigs, most of which now lay on the floor around Fox's feet.   He had 
planned to give Fox six but perhaps one more would be enough.

"Hold on tight, brat.  Last stroke."

Skinner waited a few minutes for the dancing bottom to settle, the long legs 
to resume their overstretched placement.  The captain brought the instrument 
of torture back, putting all his considerable weight behind this final 
stroke.  The effect was instantaneous and wholly predictable.

Fox's back arched as his hips jumped up off the desk, butt muscles flexing 
and releasing in a most dramatic way.  There was not an inch of skin on the 
furiously bouncing butt that had not been turned an angry, blazing red.  It 
was an impressively punished bottom.

Fox's scream of pure torment brought Reggie Purdue racing into the study.  
His eyes searching for the young man who had screamed so agonizingly.  He 
stopped short at the sight of the tortured bottom still dancing wildly 
across the desk.  It's unfortunate owner sobbing between hitching breathes.

"Why did you whip him so hard?  I heard him yelling clear out in the 
kitchen!"  Reggie hissed angrily.

"You know why!  He risked his life again today!  What if you hadn't found 
him in time?  And besides he lied to me to escape punishment."

"Well, I did find him in time, didn't I?  And I find it hard to believe that 
Fox lied to you.  What did he say?"

"He said that a vampire took him to that cave!"

"So?"

"There are no such things as vampires!"  Skinner declared stubbornly, 
throwing down the birch, suddenly not liking the feel of the thing in his 
hand.

"Why?  Because the all-wise Walter Skinner says there are no such creatures, 
so that just makes it so.  I've never seen this boy lie about anything.  
You're a fool, just like Mother Maggie said you were.  I'm beginning to 
wonder if you even deserve someone like Fox."

Reggie helped Fox to his feet, cooing over him shamelessly while his former 
first mate looked on in shock.  Who would have ever thought that Reggie 
Purdue, Black Scourge of the South Seas, would go soft over an exasperating, 
doe-eyed cabin boy.

Skinner still stood looking at the door after the two had left.  He suddenly 
felt lost and very empty inside.

* * *
Mulder lay forlornly on his stomach on the bunk in the captain's cabin 
abroad the Chauve Terreur.  He had rejected the comfort that Captain Skinner 
had tried to offer to him once Reggie had carefully tucked him face-down 
into his bed.

Captain Purdue had all but pushed Skinner out of his own bedchamber, the 
older man's face a mask of indignant rage.  For a moment, Fox was fearful 
that Purdue was angry with him again, but then had relaxed as he realized 
those black eyes were spitting fire only at Captain Skinner

Mulder had waited until the older man had gone to get some salve before 
sneaking out of the house and painfully making his way to the anchored ship 
to hide

"Feeling a might sorry for yourself there, boy-o?"

Mulder lifted a tear-streaked face to see Stubby sitting on the end of his 
bed, smoking an intricately carved teakwood pipe.  He was a small man, his 
skin weathered and wrinkled from too many days spent in the wind and 
weather.  But he had the brightest, bluest eyes Mulder had ever seen on a 
man, living or dead.

"Maybe I have good reason."  Mulder told the ghost sullenly, burying his 
face back into the comfort of  the tear stained pillow.

"Because of that red butt.  Don't look like much to me."  Stubby stared 
intently at the punished bottom that Fox had bared because he couldn't stand 
the feel of his trousers against his raw skin.

"Well it is!  And I didn't deserve it, either."

"Funny, I been sailin' on this ship with Captain Skinner for five years now, 
and I ain't never seen him do the first thing that I considered to be unfair 
or dishonorable.  And now here you are telling me that the man just turned 
you upside down and whipped your tail for no good reason.  Imagine that?"

He thought I lied to him.  I told him about the vampire and he didn't 
believe me so . . .so he whipped me with . . .a bunch of sticks."

"With <sticks> huh?  More than one, you say?  He must have been right angry 
with you.  And just because you saw a vampire that he didn't see?"

"Well yeah, and I think he's still angry about his gold, too."

"Gold is it?  Well now, some men can lose themselves to the thought of gold. 
  I take it you have gold and your captain wants it for himself then?"

"No, he wouldn't do that!"  Mulder shook his head adamantly.  "And besides I 
don't have any gold.   I was an indentured servant working in a counting 
house.  I won't have any money for four more years and then I have to save 
enough to send for my sister," Mulder's head shot up from the pillow.  "Oh 
shit!  I hadn't even thought of Samantha.  I have to escape from Captain 
Skinner.  If I don't get a job, I'll never have enough money to get Sam out 
of that orphanage!"

"I thought you said you found some gold?"

"Well I did,"  Mulder was beginning to wonder if Stubby was just a little 
slow.  "I found a whole bunch of treasure but it wasn't mine or anything.  
It belonged to the leprechauns, or so they said.  I gave it to Mother Maggie 
and the Sanctimonious Sisters."

"And . . .?"

"Well, I think the leprechauns lied to me.  The gold belonged to Captain 
Skinner.  It was his ill-gotten gains.  It was an honest mistake on my 
part."

"You gave away the man's gold, boy-o?"  Stubby gave a low whistle.  "Just 
where do the vampires come into this story."

"Oh that was today.  I followed one to his lair.  Turned out he didn't have 
anything interesting to show me.  He just wanted to get in my pants.  At 
least that's what Reggie said."

"That Purdue is a smart one.  I'd listen to him if I were you.  So you've 
been a busy boy, what with vampires and giving away your captain's gold and 
all.  Why in my day you wouldn't have been able to walk after a trick like 
that, much less run off to hide from your captain.  What's your plan on that 
anyway?"

"Plan?"  Mulder peaked up at the man as he patiently sat puffing on his 
pipe.

"You know – plan?  Here you are hiding out in a deserted ship, no food, no 
fresh water.  You gonna' just lay here until you die or are you hopin' 
Captain Skinner will come looking for you?"

"Shit no!  He doesn't like it when I try to escape.  I'd get another 
whipping for sure!"

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well," Mulder bit his bottom lip thoughtfully.  "I suppose I could wait for 
nightfall and then work my way over to the other side of the island where 
the single crewmen live.  I have friends there. Maybe Frohike would hide me 
until I could flag down a passing ship."

"Good plan!  Course there's nothing between here and there but dense jungle. 
  You've done a lot of hiking in the jungle, have you, boy-o?"

"Well no," Mulder admitted reluctantly.  "The only jungle I've ever seen, 
outside of a book, has been this one, and the captain always takes me 
sightseeing on his horse.  He won't even let me get down much.  He says he's 
protecting the snakes from my big feet."

Stubby chuckled, "So maybe you should come up with another plan.  In the 
mean time, why don't you tell me what ever happened to that low-down, 
bottom-dwelling scoundrel you had Captain Skinner pull off that raft?"

Mulder sighed forlornly,  "I wish I'd known just what a useless piece of 
scum he was before we picked him up.  I would have just pretended I never 
saw that raft."  Stubby looked skeptical of that arguable statement but 
nodded anyway.

"Giving you trouble, is he?"

"He <shoves> people."

"Good way to get the wind knocked out of your sails, if you ask me.  Not a 
pirate worth his salt who won't fight back when he's been provoked.  Come to 
think of it, a lot of them do the provoking themselves.  Saves time."

"No," Mulder shook his head, trying to find the right words to convey 
Modell's unnatural talent.  "He doesn't really shove people physically.  He 
does it with his mind.  He can make most men do things or see things that 
aren't really there.  It's very strange.  I'm just glad his powers don't 
seem to work on the captain when it comes to me."

"Do you think he might be responsible for you seeing leprechauns and such, 
boy-o?"

Mulder slowly raised his head, his eyes opening wide as realization stuck 
for the first time.  "I don't know.  Maybe.  I'm fairly certain the vampires 
are real but now that you mention it, and . . .he could have been 
responsible for that sea serpent, too!  The thing never came out again after 
I almost sunk our ship."

Stubby grimaced, "Was that you who almost sunk our ship?  I thought it was 
an rival pirate ship.  Gentleman John or someone like him."

"No, it was just me."  Mulder sighed heavily.  "And now that I think about 
it, he probably made me see the big snake so I'd fall over the edge of that 
cliff, too.  That really upset the captain."

"Blimey, boy-o!  You're a pack of trouble!"

"Yeah."  Mulder suddenly eyed his companion suspiciously.  "And what about 
you?  Are you . . .?"

Stubby waved his hands in a dismissive manner, "Not me, boy-o!  I'm as real 
as you are.  Most people just don't want to see me.  It's that way with your 
captain.  I'm thinking it's the reason he punished you for seeing the 
leprechauns.  You're not afraid to look beyond the commonplace and it scares 
the man who loves you near to death."

"I don't see why?  You're not going to hurt me," Mulder narrowed his eyes at 
the ghost.  "Are you?"

Stubby cackled,  "Course not!  But there are things out there that will hurt 
you, and this Modell might just be one of them.  You need to get your guard 
up, cabin boy.  It's going to be up to you to protect yourself and your 
captain.  Speaking of which, if I were you, I'd be getting that bare bottom 
of yours under wraps as quick as possible.  He's here."

Mulder scrambled off the bed, pulling up his pants, as his horrified eyes 
flew to the doorway where Captain Skinner stood, arms crossed over his 
chest, eyes snapping black with worry turned to pure anger.

* * *
Skinner sat in the most shadowed corner of the garden watching as his cabin 
boy spent his afternoon in the stocks.

Fox had been too shocked and embarrassed to speak as his head and wrists had 
been incased between the two heavy pieces of wood, his naked body on full 
and glorious display for anyone interested in the view.  And there had been 
a lot of interest.

Skinner had discretely shooed away those who would have done more than 
gently caress the expanse of beautiful, bronzed skin that was made available 
by the cabin boy's unfortunate predicament.  At first Fox had squirmed under 
their groping hands, but now he seemed to have lost the energy to care.

For his part, the captain had taken no chances this time.  He had never left 
his cool, shaded corner as he stood diligent watch over his suffering 
charge, approaching the brat frequently, forcing him to drink dipper after 
dipper of water from the bucket that sat at the captain's feet.

Even with that precaution, Fox now stood swaying with exhaustion and heat.  
It would appear the lesson had been learned.  Time to go inside for some 
rest and a much needed washing.  The captain was looking forward most 
anxiously to giving his pretty Fox that bath.

As Skinner started to rise from his chair, he saw Tom Colton enter the 
garden, his attention completely on the chastened cabin boy.  The crewman 
stopped less than two feet from where Fox stood oblivious.  Unaware of 
anything but his own misery.

"Did you need something, Tom?"  Skinner's eyed him as the man flinched 
guiltily when his captain suddenly appeared from his well-hidden guard post.

"Uh . . .no, I just wanted to make sure he was all right, that's all.  Maybe 
give him some water or something."

Skinner relaxed, smiling at one of his most reliable men.  "I'm sorry, Tom.  
The way you were creeping up on him and the expression I thought I saw on 
your face . . ."  Skinner chuckled self-consciously.  "I guess I've been out 
here too long myself."

"Are you going to whip him?"  Had Skinner been looking at the man's face he 
would have seen, not concern, but spite there.

"You needn't worry about him, Tom.  I had to punish him for running away and 
hiding on the ship like that.  I was nearly out of my mind with worry, and I 
was sure poor Reggie was going to have heart failure when we found him 
missing from my room.  But he's had enough I think.  I'm going to take him 
up for a bath and a nap before dinner."

"Oh."  Tom hid his disappointment from his captain by staring at the wilting 
man in the stocks.  "He seems more trouble than he's worth, Captain Skinner. 
  There are those who would serve you willingly."  Colton looked over to 
meet Skinner's eyes.  "Men who would consider it an honor."

Skinner chuckled as he released his cabin boy, scooping the exhausted young 
man up into his protective arms.  "The trouble's half the fun, Tom.  But he 
has to learn that I'm not going to tolerate him running away from me.  
There's too much danger in that.  I'll not tolerate him risking his life.  
Now if you'll excuse us."

Colton watched jealously as Skinner easily carried the cabin boy back into 
the house, Fox's arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

Mulder was aware that he was finally being taken out of the hot, tropical 
sun.  He was also aware that his savior was the man who had punished him to 
begin with.  He didn't care.  His ears were still ringing and his bones felt 
like they had turned to melted wax, unable to support his weight even if he 
had been threatened with death to make it otherwise.

His eyes opened wide as his hot skin was immersed in cool bath water.  
Gentle hands began to sponge the soothing liquid up over his chest and 
shoulders.

"Sh-h-h-h, my beauty, you're hot and tired.  Let me take care of you now."

"But you're angry with me."

"No, I <was> angry with you.  My island is beautiful but can also be deadly, 
Fox.  Even if you discount all the wild animals that make their home in the 
jungle, most of the human inhabitants are pirates or former pirates.  Living 
here either because they became too old for the vigorous life at sea or 
because the bounty on their heads became too high to risk showing their 
faces anywhere else.  They might not know who you belong to, Fox.  They 
would see only a beautiful boy just ripe for the picking.  I can't allow you 
to be hurt."

Skinner lifted the cabin boy's chin until he could pin him with his gaze.  
"If you leave this house without my permission again, I'll make you rue the 
day you were born.  Don't doubt me on this, my love, I'm deadly serious."

"Yes, sir."

After Skinner had meticulously washed every inch of his cabin boy's soft wet 
skin - several times - he helped the drowsing man out of the tub, toweled 
him dry and tucked him between cool, clean sheets.

"Now, sweetheart,  I'm going down to the kitchen to get you something to 
drink.  Maybe some nice cold lemonade, how does that sound?  I'll be back in 
a few minutes.  Try to stay awake, you need some fluids in you."

"Yes, sir."  Mulder mumbled even as his eyes began to slide closed.  He was 
startled only a few seconds later by a rough hand shaking him awake.  Before 
he could turn to see why the captain was angry with him again, two pairs of 
coarse hands bound and gagged him.  He was flipped over in the bed to face a 
tall, ordinary looking man, dressed in the garb of a pirate.  Two other men 
held Mulder firmly to the bed.

"Hello, Fox."  The man's smooth, gentle voice washed over the cabin boy 
sending chills up his spine.  The pirate was so soft-spoken Mulder could 
hardly hear him, but his gut response to the deceptively beguiling voice was 
pure terror.

"My name is John Lee Roche, Gentleman John to my friends, and you and I are 
going to become very close friends.  You aren't as young as I usually 
prefer.  What are you sixteen, seventeen at the most?"

Mulder struggled in his bonds, shaking his head at the monster who stood in 
front of him, his angry denials coming out as nothing more than incoherent 
grunts from behind his gag.

"It doesn't matter, little boy.  Your beauty should more than make up for 
your advanced years.  Bring him along, men, the Severed Heart sails with the 
tide."

END 2/4