Vampire Series 2: Part V-VII 

Rating: NC17 - language, adult themes

Category: Slash / MSR/ Pure Trash / Discipline

Warning: Mulder/Skinner/Scully Singing Vampires, Dark Alleys and
Dead People

If you don't like this kind of thing, or you are underage, go
somewhere else . . . NOW! I don't want to hear from you and I
don't want to hear from your Mama.

Spoiler: None.

Summary:  Vince the Vampire introduces Mulder to some new friends
- a bunch of real dead beats.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own Mulder, Scully, Skinner,
Krycek or the X-Files. I am borrowing them without permission and
am obviously not receiving money for this stuff. We all know who
they really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of other people but
again, not me.





Vampire Series Part V Cold Blooded by DiAnn

Hoover Building Office of AD Skinner Thursday, 9:00 a.m.

"No."

"What?"

"I said . . . No. I am not signing off on this302. You are not
going to Idaho to look for some . . . mutant, alien, body parts
collecting serial killer. No."

Mulder paced around the office in an obvious rage, "I don't
understand." He stuck his lip out another fraction of an inch,
"And they aren't alien."

"Mulder, what is your IQ again, 200 - 205, what part of -No- do
you not understand?"

Mulder stopped his pacing and stared at his boss, "I need to do
this, Sir."

Skinner rose from his chair, placing both hands flat on his well-
polished desk, then leaned toward his agent, "I don't have to
tell you what will happen if you go to Idaho without my
authorization, do I?" His eyes were glittering in that dangerous
way that made rough and tough federal agents quake in their
shoes. The smart ones anyway, the ones with good self
preservation skills and a desire for career advancement.
Unfortunately Mulder did not usually fall into either of these
categories.

"No. Sir. You don't." Mulder glared at his boss, stomped to the
door and slammed it on his way out.

Skinner ground his teeth. Obviously it was time to teach that boy
some more and better manners . . . again.

Clear Creek, Idaho Thursday, 11:00 p.m.

Mulder pushed his back up even tighter against the rough brick
wall behind him. He carefully looked both ways in the dark,
seemingly endless alley. All he could see was garbage but he knew
he was not alone, something was here. He could feel it right down
to his toes.

"Vince?" His whisper seemed to magnify as it reverberated in the
alley, bouncing off the walls and alerting any and all to his
presence. Damn! "Vince, what the hell did you do with my gun? I
need it back, NOW!"

No answer. "Damned useless piece of . . . " Mulder continued to
curse under his breath as he moved a little farther into the
darkness. He worked his way slowly around an overflowing dumpster
and flattened his back against the wall once more. He saw an
opening up ahead and tried desperately to peer into its inky
depths. It would be a great place for an ambush. There was,
however, no way to avoid it and still reach the other end of the
alley.

He cautiously neared the doorway but was still unprepared for the
large, inhumanly powerful hands that reached out and grabbed him
by his shirt.

He was thrown up against the wall, his head thumped loudly as it
made contact with the bricks. Shit! Another head injury. Scully
would be pissed off at him again. He struggled for all he was
worth but was no match for the huge, angry beast that had him
trapped in its awful, chilling grasp.

Mulder froze as the fearsome creature lowered its great head
until the gapping maul was right beside his ear. Light reflected
eerily off it's glistening skull, as its dark beady eyes
glittered dangerously in the dim light. Mulder could feel the
hot, heavy breath of the ghoulish beast brush ominously across
his perspiring face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

All the available breath rushed from Mulder's terrified body and
he felt himself near to collapse.

"Walter?"

"Don't Walter me, You Little Shit. What the hell are you doing
out here all by yourself and where is your damned gun?" Skinner
gave him a teeth-rattling shake and then pinned him to the wall
once more.

"I...I think . . . I'm fairly certain . . . there's a zombie here
and that damned vampire hid my gun again."

"God Damn little fuc . . . Shitheaded . . . Son of a Bitch . .. I
just don't know . . . Be lucky . . . not dead before . . . damned
. .. " Walter certainly had a colorful vocabulary when he needed
one. Mulder closed his eyes. At this moment, he might actually be
more afraid of Skinner than of the zombie. He suddenly felt
himself being dragged from his position against the grimy bricks,
"Wait, Sir. This is important. There is a zombie here . . . or
well . . . there is something here . . . I need to talk to it and
. . . "

"A zombie, Mulder? And if there were a zombie here, would it
really want to talk to you? You are a major pain in the ass. The
zombie is probably hiding from you. Of all the lame brained
stunts you have pulled, this just might take the cake. You have
no weapon, no back up and, as far as I can see, no brains."
Mulder could hardly walk with Skinner stopping to shake him like
a rag doll about every three steps. If there was a zombie here,
it was probably laughing its ass off by now.

Skinner pretty much threw his agent in the car then moved to the
drivers side and got in himself. "You better enjoy this ride,
it's the last time you'll be sitting down comfortably for a
while."

"Walter, I . . . "

"Shut Up!"

"But I . . . "

"I said shut up!"

"But . . . "

"One more word, Agent Mulder and you will find yourself
decorating the hood of this car with your pants around your
ankles. Do I make myself absolutely clear? Just shut up and let
me calm down a little. I do not want to deal with you until I am
sure I will not do permanent damage. When I got that anonymous
call telling me where you were, I could not believe it. One of my
agents would not dare go on a case after I had expressly
forbidden them to do so. But of course once they mentioned your
name, I had no doubt that it was indeed true . . . "

"But Sir, It's just that I . . . "

"Shut up, Mulder! When I get you home, I am going to use my strap
on you until you can't sit down for a week, hell, maybe until you
can't walk for a week. I am at my wits end with you, Mulder, if I
have to I will . . . "

Mulder hunkered further down in his seat while Skinner railed on
about his lack of any trace of common sense. How he had obviously
bought that esteemed Oxford degree on the Internet. And how his
parents were probably both on heavy drugs during his conception.
And if not, then they no doubt took up the habit once Mulder
learned to talk, as he could drive anyone to substance abuse with
only a few words.

Mulder glanced over at his boss. The man was going to have a
stroke if he didn't calm down a little. Then he glanced outside
his window. Shit!

"Uh-h-h-h . . . where are we going, Sir?"

"Home!"

"DC, Sir? Tonight?"

Skinner glared at his passenger, "No, not DC. Home, my home. I'm
from this town, Mulder. My Dad still lives here. We are staying
with him for a couple days."

"You . . . you didn't mention . . . "

"I didn't expect you or I to be here . . ." Mulder cringed at the
look on his boss' face. Oh Shit!

"But the motel . . . my stuff. I need to . . . "

"You need to shut up. I already checked you out of your motel. I
stopped there first, looking for even the smallest clue as to
where you had gone. The second call of the night alerted me to
that alley. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is for an
Assistant Director of the FBI to have to depend on anonymous tips
to locate his agents? And not just any agent, someone who . . . "
Skinner was getting warmed up again, Mulder decided he had to
discuss this with his boss now, before they reached their
destination.

"Excuse me, Sir. I m sorry to interrupt but I really don't want
to stay with your father. I need to . . . "

Skinner smiled evilly, "No, you probably don't want to visit my
Dad. I've told him all about you and he is more than anxious to
see exactly what I've gotten myself into. He doesn't have the
easy-going personality that I do, Mulder."

Mulder stared at the Assistant Director with his mouth open,
<Doesn't have his easy-going personality?> Oh Shit!

Home of Charles Skinner Clear Creek, Idaho Friday, 1:00 a.m.

It was a nice two story white farm house. Neat and clean to the
point of obsession. A real Rockwell sort of place. It just
screamed Skinner. Mulder reluctantly started to get out of the
car when Walter reached in and hauled him out the driver's side.
Shit!

As he was being forcefully marched up the walk, they were met by
what had to be Skinner's dad. The resemblance was amazing, this
was an older copy of the man who now had a death grip on Mulder's
arm. The agent was glad to note that Walter would still be a very
attractive man in the years to come.

"Hello, Son."

"Dad, it's good to see you." Skinner let go of his errant charge
long enough to hug his father warmly. Charles Skinner slapped his
son on the back with real affection.

"Well, come on in. Let me get a look at your problem boy here.
You always did bring home the most rag tailed, mangy, aggravating
strays, Walter. Never could beat any sense into any of em. I see
you haven't changed."

Upon hearing this, Mulder started to back away but Walter grabbed
his arm again and wheeled him into the house. Once they were in
the light, Charles Skinner ran his eyes up and down Mulder. The
agent blushed scarlet under the older man's inspection.

"At least this pup's pretty. What's the other one look like?"

"Little, red headed. She's pretty, too. And she doesn't give me
any trouble at all." He looked pointedly at Mulder.

"You sure this one is worth the misery?"

He gave Mulder a glare and another shake. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Well, it's good to have you and your friend here, Son. If he
means that much to you, then I'm sure he and I will get along
just fine." He looked at Mulder. "You ever spent any time on a
real farm, Boy?"

"Oh Sweet Boy, ask him if he has some friendly sheep." Vince
leered.

Jeez! What a pervert. "Look, I'm not having sex with any farm
animals."

"SEX! Wh . . . why would we think we would have sex with . . . "

"Do you know why sex is always better with a sheep, Sweet Boy?"

Mulder rolled his eyes. "Because a sheep never expects you to buy
dinner first." Old joke, vampire.

"Wha . . . wha . . . Dinner!. . . Son, does he really think I
would .. . "

"Sweet Boy, I wouldn't really molest a sheep."

"Sure you would Pervert, you'd probably jump anything that stood
still long enough."

"Wha . . . wha . . . wha . . . "

Mulder looked up. Skinner's dad was doing that same sputter thing
that Walter could do so well. Wow, must be genetic.

"It's okay, Dad. Just calm down. I'll take care of this."

Walter let go of his furious father long enough to grab Mulder
and head out the back door. "Congratulations, Mulder. Woodshed
within ten minutes of arrival. New record."

Skinner had practically drug Mulder into a small building behind
the house, Skinner, Sr. following close behind. It was full of
stacked wood, sawhorses, and cutting tools. Mulder was amazed.
Wow, they really did have a real woodshed. Skinner lit an old
lantern while his father took down a well-oiled strap that was
hanging on a nail by the door. Mulder had to stiff le a gasp.

"This thing sure saw a lot of action when Walter was a teenager.
I thought 

I would plumb wear it out before he left for the service."

"Mulder doesn't need to hear about that, Dad."

"Sure he does."

"No, he doesn't."

"Yeah, I do."

"No, you don't."

Skinner moved one of the sawhorses to the center of the room.
"Get your pants off and get over this horse. In one day I have
had to chase you half way across the country, pull your unarmed,
unprotected ass out of a dark alley. . .

"I told you, I was chasing a zombie."

Charles Skinner's head snapped up, he looked at his son with one
eyebrow up to his hairline. "What did he say?"

"Don't listen, Dad. He'll make you as crazy as he is. I should
know."

"Then you insult my father in his own home . . . "

"But I didn't . . . it was the vampire."

Charles Skinner's eyebrow rose higher. "Did he say vam . . . "

"No, Dad."

Mulder found himself pulled up against Walter's broad chest as
the big man hissed quietly in his ear, "I don't want to hear that
one more time. There are no such things as vampires, Mulder.
Nobody saw a damned vampire tonight. Not you. Not me. No one. Do
you understand me?"

"But . . . but Vi . . . Vince . . . " Skinner started shaking him
again.

"Vince! You are not to associate with that man again, Mulder. He
is making you as delusional as he is. Or maybe it's the other way
around, I'm not really sure at this point. But the two of you
should not be together. Is that understood, you will not see this
Vince person again or . . . or . . . or I'll ground you."

Mulder looked at him incredulously, "Ground me? You've got to be
kidding! What does that mean, I can't leave home so all flukemen
and aliens must commit their crimes in the DC area for a week?
Jeez! And, for your information, he is a <real> vampire," the
agent was now in full pout mode.

"Did he say aliens, Son?"

"Just ignore him, Dad."

Charles Skinner scratched his head as he studied the dark haired
young agent. Good thing the boy had his looks, he obviously had a
few screws that could use a good turn or two. Yep, something was
definitely loose in that boy's head.

But he was good looking. He could understand why his son was so
attached of this troublesome kid. If Charles Skinner was a
betting man, he would say that Mulder's sad, hurt puppy face got
him out of lots of scrapes. Especially with Walter. His son had
always been a sucker for an unloved mut. But aliens and . . .
what the hell was a flukeman' anyway?

"Forget it Mulder, that pout will not work on me this time. Just
get undressed and get over that horse." Mulder still sulked but
did what he was told, "Put your hands on the floor. You can dance
as much as you like but keep those hands on the floor. I wasn't
going to punish you until I was less angry but you just keep
pushing and pushing."

"Son, maybe you better let me do this."

"No Dad. He's my responsibility. I'll take care of it. Mulder,
I'm giving you twelve strokes. You're going to count each one."

Mulder gulped. This was torture. He shifted his weight on the
rough wood and shut his eyes. He hated the fact that Skinner's
dad was watching this. He had really hoped to make a good
impression on the man.

He heard the swish of the leather cutting the air, then a white-
hot pain across his unprotected backside. He shifted his feet and
bit his lip to stay silent. He did not want to embarrass himself
in front of these two men.

He squinched his eyes shut more tightly and mumbled, "One."

"Speak up Mulder. I can't hear you."

"I said One!"

He braced himself to ask for the next stroke. Shit!

"Two"

Oh! Oh it hurt . . . It hurt! Tears sprang to his eyes and ran
silently down his cheeks. Walter was hitting him so hard. Harder
than ever before. He drew in a breath.

The strap sizzled across his thighs. He couldn't stop the yelp
that escaped his lips.

"Th . . . three." Wished his voice was steadier.

The next one struck on it's intended target even harder. Mulder
bit down on his bottom lip until he tasted blood. He let up on
the lip, Skinner would be even more angry if he got up from here
with his lip bleeding.

Charles Skinner watched his son as he beat the handsome young
man. He was using the strap with a hard, steady swing but tears
were running down his face. Each stroke was tearing away at his
soul.

As for the hapless agent, he was in considerable distress. This
was very evident from the strain in his voice as he dutifully
counted the strokes. Also, from the trembling of his body and the
way he was shifting his feet. Charles was sure he was crying but
there wasn't any sound. Both his backside and thighs were a
flaming shade of red.

Charles glanced back at Walter's tear stained face. He really
wasn't sure if this was hurting Mulder or his son more. The boy's
butt had to feel like it had been set on fire, but Walter's heart
was breaking. That had to hurt too.

Walter grunted into the next stroke to hide his own sniffle.

"E . . . eig . . . eight" The word was barely above a whisper and
stuffy sounding.

Walter raised his arm high above his shoulder again but Charles
reached out and grabbed his son's wrist. "It's all right, Son.
I'll finish this for you."

He took the strap and quickly delivered the next four strokes.
They weren't nearly as hard but Mulder finally broke down and
sobbed as quietly as possible. He remained lying limply over the
sawhorse and struggling for control.

As Charles hung the heavy strap back on its nail, Walter reached
down and lifted a trembling Mulder up to be hugged against his
chest. "Why do you make me do this? What do I have to do to get
through to you? Why do you have to be so reckless all the time?
Can't you give me any peace at all?"

Charles felt his own eyes tear up. Both his son and this man, who
was obviously so important to Walter, were sniffling on each
other's shoulders. Charles didn't think he could stand to watch
this much longer.

"Come on Walter, let's all go in and get some rest. We'll talk
about how to solve this little problem in the morning. Don't
worry, nothing will happen to your boy. I'll help take care of
him for you, just like I did all those other lop-eared strays you
brought home."

"Thanks, Dad."

When Walter was sure he had waited long enough for his father to
be asleep, he collected Mulder and shuffled him out to the barn.
His agent needed some comfort and he didn't feel right about
having sex in his old room. Old bedrooms always tended to make
one feel about ten years old. Ten-year-old boys did not have sex
with their overnight quests under their father's roofs. The barn,
however, was a different story.

Walter used one hand to throw down a horse blanket on the bed of
fresh straw. With the other hand he kept a firm grip on Mulder.

"Walter, you can let go of my wrist, I'm not going to run away
from you."

"It seems to me that every time I turn my head, you're gone. I'm
not taking any chances tonight."

He pulled Mulder down on the blanket and immediately covered him
with his own body. "Now, what can I do to make you feel better."

Mulder laughed, "Well I'd say you're off to a good start."

"Just wait until you see what I have in mind for a big finish."
Walter lowered his head and claimed Mulder's lips. His agent was
gasping for breath before he finally forced himself to pull away.
God, this kid could drive him crazy, in a hundred different ways.

He trailed a string of kisses along Mulder's jaw and down his
long elegant neck. He glanced up to see beautiful hazel eyes
clouded with passion. Skinner smiled. Fox may make his life hell
on earth on occasion but there were other times . . .

An incredible hour later, Mulder lay curled up on his boss' wide
chest, sleeping soundly. Walter reached down and gently plucked
piece of stray from the other man's dark hair. As usual, after
being punished Mulder wanted to cuddle. Right now he was stuck to
Walter like glue. He leaned down and whispered quietly to the
sleeping man, "Don't worry, I still love you Fox, that's the
reason I punish you. If I lost you, it would kill me too." He
lightly kissed Mulder's cheek. The agent snuggled in a little
closer but didn't awaken.

Walter put his arms more tightly around the man and then he too
fell into a sound sleep. Lying on a bed of fresh fragrant straw,
covered only by an old horse blanket and his gorgeous lover;
Assistant Director Walter Skinner slept more soundly than he had
in years.

When he woke up the next morning, Mulder was gone again.





South Main Street Clear Creek, Idaho Saturday, 8:00 p.m.

"I think you were wise to come with me, Sweet Boy."

"Yeah right. Skinner and his dad are gonna' kill me, you know?
And you haven't even taken me anywhere interesting yet. That gay
S&M bar was truly disgusting, Vince."

"Really? I thought it was very interesting. That last performer
looked a lot like you, Sweet Boy." The vampire ignored Mulder's
growling mumble.

"Besides we needed somewhere to hang out until evening. I want to
take the zombies by surprise. I will help you capture Don Weaver
and prove that he was out there killing people and uh-h-h . . .
borrowing their body parts. Mr. Skinner will see things
differently then. Once you have apprehended the killer, he will
have to understand why you had to leave and he'll forgive you."

"Whether I am right or wrong doesn't really matter, Vince. It's
my methods that usually get Skinner going." He glared at the
vampire. "And where is my gun, you promised not to hide it any
more . . . re-mem-ber?"

The vampire had the good grace to at least look sheepish, "I'm
sorry, Sweet Boy. I was afraid you would scare someone with that
thing."

"That's the idea, Vince. I am a federal agent, I'm supposed to
scare the bad guys. Nothing makes Walter more angry than when I
stalk mutants without my gun."

"He needs to lighten up a little, if you ask me."

"I don't remember asking you. Where are we going anyway?"

Vince smiled, "To another bar."

Mulder groaned.

The Dead End Street Occult Book Store and Cappuccino Bar
Saturday, 9:00 p.m.

Mulder stared at the sign over the door in amazement.
"Cappuccino, Vince?"

"What did you expect Mulder? That zombies couldn't appreciate a
good cup of coffee?"

Mulder was further amazed when he met Damon. He had expected a
zombie to be at least a little scary, maybe rotting in a few
places or dragging one foot stiffly behind him. Damon was small,
wiry and had on very thick glasses below a thinning head of salt
and pepper hair. He looked more like someone's eccentric uncle
than one of the living dead.

Vince shook hands with the little man, "It is so good to see you
again, Damon. I want to introduce you to someone very special.
Damon Weaver, I would like you to meet Special Agent Fox Mulder
with the FBI."

"Oh-h-h-h-, FBI. How exciting." Damon smiled widely and held out
his hand. Mulder reached out to shake the zombie's hand but
pulled back quickly in shock. Not only was the man's hand ice
cold and leathery, his thumb had come off in the agent's hand.

"Ah-h-h-h!" Mulder took a deep breath. Not a girly scream. A
little high maybe but definitely not a girly scream. He looked
down at the bluish thumb resting in his palm.

Vince held out his own hand. "Calm down, Sweet Boy. Just give it
to me. Come on. That's right. Nothing to worry about." Mulder
handed over the disconnected digit.

A still smiling Damon took back his thumb from Vince, "Sorry
about that, Agent Mulder. Happens all the time. I've tried every
glue on the market but nothing seems to work."

The zombie's eyes narrowed and his smile turned to a threatening
glare. He pinned the still cringing agent with his black eyes,
magnified to horrifying proportions by his thick glasses, "Do you
know the four words you must never say to a zombie, Agent
Mulder?"

Mulder swallowed hard, "N . . . no."

"Give me a hand." The little zombie practically doubled over with
mirth.

A wide-eyed Mulder watched as the zombie, still giggling to
himself, calmly reattached his thumb using a wad of gum that he
dug out of his mouth. Ew-w-w-w-w!

"Do . . . do you lose . . . parts often?"

"Afraid so, it's just our lot in life." The little man snickered.
"Get it, our lot in <life>." Damon laughed merrily, once more
entertained by his own wit.

Mulder smiled weakly at the little zombie. So vampires were
cowardly voyeurs and zombies lost body parts while making bad
jokes. What was next? Were all of his boyhood fantasies going to
be laid to rest thanks to his association with Vince? What was
next? Would he find out that mummies were just guys with bad
fashion sense and werewolves made wonderful house pets? Jeez!

Mulder cleared his throat, "So Mr. Weaver, what do you know about
the recent string of murders and mutilations here in Clear
Creek?"

Damon glanced around to make sure no one else was in the store,
"It's my cousin Donald, Agent Mulder," he whispered. "I think he
is using a vampire for his own ends. That's, if not against the
rules, then certainly bending them. Zombies and vampires do not
usually work well together."

"Vampires don't work well with anyone." Mulder muttered under
this breath, earning a hurt look from the vampire.

The zombie must have heard him too because he nodded in what
appeared to be total agreement, "But more important, I think Don
is up to his old games again."

"His old games?"

"My cousin was executed in the state of Florida for having sex
with hitch hikers and then killing them. I think he is using the
vampire to do that again."

"Why would he need a vampire to have sex and then kill someone,
Mr. Weaver?"

Damon looked at the handsome young agent as if he proved the
theory that all really good looking people where a little well .
. . dumb. He spoke as if trying to explain something to a slow
child, "Because zombies can't have sex, Agent Mulder. The truth
is . . . the .. . uh-h-h-h . . . .you know . . . well, the penis
is the first to go. Whoops!" He then made a falling-off motion
with his hand that had both Mulder and Vince wincing as they
crossed their legs.

Route Three West Sunday, 12:30 a.m.

"Should we be confronting this guy in the middle of the night
like this?"

"I don't think zombies ever sleep, Sweet Boy."

"I'm not worried about interrupting his sleep," Mulder said
sarcastically, "I'm worried about not having any backup."

"I'll watch your back for you, Sweet Boy. After all, we've worked
together before."

"Yeah, right. I know exactly what to expect from you, Vince."

Zombie Lair Sunday, 2:30 a.m.

Mulder was hanging from a hook in the ceiling of the filthy
kitchen. He had been stripped of jacket, shirt and shoes, but at
least they had left him with his jeans. All in all this could be
a lot worse. Vince could be here.

One of the zombies, with the surprising but perhaps appropriate
name of Little Peter, was trying rather unsuccessfully to
reattach a slightly rotted great toe to his grubby left foot. Ew-
w-w-w-w!

Don Weaver had one other zombie in attendance at the house,
Erwin, Peter's older brother. Erwin was even bigger and uglier
than his sibling, Little Peter. As difficult as that was to
believe.

Mulder and Vince had not even made it to the window to do a
little surveillance. The vampire had found himself to be allergic
to the flowering bushes surrounding the house. The subsequent
sneezing fit had brought all three of the zombies on the run. And
all of them pissed off at being awakened from a sound sleep.
Zombies, it seemed, not only did sleep, they were not good
morning people.

Vince had, true to form, vanished instantly.

Now Mulder hurt all over. He bit back a groan. He didn't want
anyone to know he was awake yet. He really needed a little more
physical recovery time and a break from the zombie interpretation
of stand up comedy . He was reasonably certain that he had at
least one broken rib, probably a concussion and the cut over his
eye really needed a stitch or two. It was bleeding again. He
could feel the warm blood running down the side of his face. He
tilted his head slightly to keep it out of his eye.

"Shit!" Little Peter pounded on the table in frustration as his
toe once again landed on the floor with a squishy kind of plop.
Ew-w-w-w-w!

"I told you to use Elmer's Wood Glue." Erwin appeared in the door
way.

"Nah, this new stuff is supposed to be better. It will hold an
elephant upside down with only two drops."

"Hey Little Peter, do you know why elephants can't hang upside
down?"

"Uh-h-h-h . . . no."

"Everything would fall out of their trunks. Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha."

Little Peter just looked at his laughing brother and then
suddenly a synapse fired somewhere in his brain and he got it.
"Good one, Erwin. Yuck, Yuck, Yuck, Yuck, Yuck. That was a really
good one. Lose all the stuff in their trunks, yeah."

Mulder rolled his eyes. He almost wished they would just go ahead
and kill him. He really couldn't stand much more of their humor.

Don Weaver entered the kitchen just in time to hear this last bit
of Erwin/Peter witticism. He shook his head sadly. He really
needed to find some higher class walking dead to be in his gang.
These guys gave zombies a bad name. He walked over to Mulder and
ran a hand gently down his cheek. "You are very beautiful,"
Weaver sighed. "I want you to become one of us. 

I will kill you unless you let me make you a zombie."

"Wouldn't that kill me anyway?"

"That is technically true but I could make it worth your while. .
. forever." Weaver wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Mulder.
One of his bushy brows fell off and lay on the front of the
zombie's shirt like some kind of ugly dead bug. Ew-w-w--w-w!

"I'll pass!" Mulder had learned that zombies could not be made
involuntarily like vampires, the potential zombie had to ask for
it. He did not want to go around losing his . . . his . . . well
his important parts. And he certainly did not want to spend
eternity watching this guy lose his.

"Little Peter, go get our most recent guest. I'm sure Mr. Mulder
would like to see him again before he . . . makes his final
decision."

Little Peter lumbered out of the room and returned, with no
greater speed, dragging a trembling, sobbing Vince.

Mulder pulled at his restraints. "Let him go. Vince, use your
magic. Get out of here now."

Vince held up his hands, showing Mulder his bronze cuffs. "I .. .
I can't, Mulder. Bronze weakens my magic."

"I'm afraid I need him, Mr. Mulder. The last vampire I had
helping me met with a small . . . shall we say, accident. Never
run with a sharp stick. Seems it's still good advice.

Weaver walked slowly around Mulder. He stopped and ran a cold
clammy hand over the agent's smoothly muscled back. "I needed a
new vampire and you brought one right to my door, Fox, must be
love. Such assistance should be rewarded."

Weaver turned to his two dim-witted associates, "Take Mr. Mulder
outside and tie him to the post in front of my window. He is very
beautiful and I want to watch him suffer for a while."

"There's a storm coming up, Boss."

"I know. Our Mr. Mulder is going to be bait. I don't think
Walter' will let his boyfriend hang out in this weather for too
long, do you? I am in need of a new right ear. I think the
Assistant Director's would do just dandy."

Weaver had spotted Skinner in that fateful alley on the first
night the AD had arrived in town to collect his wayward agent.
Fox Mulder was quite gorgeous but Walter Skinner was, in the
zombie's opinion, breath taking.

Little Peter brought Weaver back from his fantasies, "Can I have
his toe, Boss?"

"What? Oh, course you can, Little Peter. Now go do what I asked."

"Can I have his . . ."

"No-o-o-o."

Little Peter looked very disappointed. Mulder decided that maybe
Little Peter was an appropriate name after all or maybe it should
have been Peter-Less.

Weaver shook his head and sighed, he really needed to replace
those two. Hum-m-m, maybe the handsome Assistant Director would
be more anxious for immortality than his pretty little playmate
had been. Or .. . maybe he could change both of them.

The two zombies dragged the nearly naked agent outside and tied
his wrists to the top of the post. As an afterthought, they
secured another strip of rope around his waist. They pulled it so
tightly that the agent gasped as the breath was forced from his
body and the post cut into the flesh of his back. This last rope
would prevent him from sagging too much when he passed out. The
fact that he would pass out soon was a forgone conclusion. They
weren't sure why he was still conscious now.

Erwin ran his hand seductively over Mulder's crouch. "Hey Little
Peter, do you know how many FBI Agents it takes to change a light
bulb?"

"No, how many?"

"All of them. And it would still have to turn itself in."

"Yuck, Yuck, Yuck, Ha, Ha, Ha, Yuck, Yuck, Yuck, Ha, Ha, Ha."

The two brothers slapped each other on the back as they guffawed.
Even semiconscious Mulder rolled his eyes and groaned. Jeez!
These guys needed some different material.

"Shit!"

"What's wrong, Erwin?"

"You knocked my nose off again, Klutz! Watch where you're
stepping, it was my last one. Why do you always . . . "

Weaver watched as the obstinate young agent was secured to the
post in front of his window. Now he could sit by his comfortable
fire and watch as the disobedient boy hung helplessly in the cold
rain. He heard the rumbling thunder as the storm moved closer.

Mulder heard the thunder too. He was so damned cold. He felt his
body shudder and gasped with pain as the rope abraded his already
bruised stomach and arms. He tried to keep his feet under him. He
needed to keep his weight off his sore wrists as much as
possible. Where was Vince? That worthless vampire was most
assuredly going to be the death of him this time.

He felt the first drops of freezing rain on his shoulders and
back. Soon it was raining hard, the thunder seeming to explode in
his head. A thunderstorm in the middle of February, now that was
typical Mulder luck for you. At least it wasn't sleet or snow.
Unless there was freak lightening. He didn't think he had ever
heard of lightening in the winter. He shuddered hard again, this
rain was almost ice. He was still only in his jeans and the
bastards had unbuttoned and unzipped them about half way. Felt
him up very throughly, too. Now his only article of clothing hung
precariously on his hips as the water ran down inside, making him
all the more miserable.

He tried to cover his ears with his arms. He couldn't stand the
cold water running into his them but it was almost as bad when it
began to stream down the back of his neck. He moved his head back
and felt another wave of dizziness wash over him. He pulled at
the ropes binding his numb hands. He saw the darkness closing in,
waiting for him around the perimeter of his sight. He stopped
fighting to stay awake, concussion or not, why bother. He
gratefully slipped into merciful unconsciousness.

What must have been hours later, he awakened himself coughing.
Great, now he probably had pneumonia. He was shuddering
continuously and his teeth would not stop chattering. He coughed
again. It felt like it was coming from his toes. His chest ached
painfully with the effort. He tried to take a deeper breath only
bringing on more coughing. He let his chin fall down on his
chest. Soon he was out cold once more.

Walter Skinner had watched from the nearby trees as his agent was
staked out in the inclement weather. He was almost blind with
rage. Mulder was shirtless and barefoot. It wouldn't take much
time for hypothermia to set in. And he could not get to him. Damn
it, he had to get Mulder out of there.

He had seethed as he saw one of the captors unzip Fox' pants. The
two men had laughed uproariously as they tortured his agent. One
of them had started to put his hand down inside the open jeans
and Walter was sure he would give away his position by killing
the man instantly if he did so. Skinner felt his father move
behind him and put his hand out to stop him.

The would be groper's movement was stopped by his cohort, who
pointed meaningfully at the house. Obviously someone was watching
from in there. Someone these two morons feared.

Skinner turned back to his dad, reassuring him that Walter had
control of his emotions and that they would deal with that man
shortly.

It had been almost two hours. Too long. He needed to get Mulder
out of the weather. He had not seen any movement from his agent
in some time. Skinner tried to concentrate but all he could think
about was Mulder hanging naked in this freezing rain. They needed
some kind of diversion.

The diversion came in a most unlikely form. A group of Christmas
Carollers, rounded a corner of the house and broke into song.
They seemed oblivious to the half naked young man, who hung
unconscious, only a few feet from their location. And not only
were they either two months late or ten months early, they could
not carry a tune to save their lives. They made a truly hideous
racket. Skinner wasn't even sure they were all singing the same
song.

As the ear splitting din tore through the night, Walter thought a
few of the singers, using that term very loosely, looked a little
familiar. He just couldn't place where he had seen them before.
He was fairly certain wherever it had been, there had no singing
involved. He would have remembered this.

Soon a dapper little man with both hands over his ears, came to
the door, blustering and threatening the carollers. They vanished
instantly as the man bellowed a curse at the damned vampires'.

Skinner stood stunned by this whole scenario when a strange woman
with purple eyes suddenly appeared and dropped the limp body of
Fox Mulder into Walter's arms. Literally. The AD staggered
backwards a few steps as the graceless vampire threw Mulder at
him. "Oops! Sorry. Gotta' go."

Not one to pass up an opportunity, Skinner threw Mulder over his
shoulder and headed further into the woods.

When Weaver finished his tirade against the singing vampires, he
looked over to check on his captive. That vampire singing could
have awakened the dead, let alone one merely unconscious federal
agent.

Mulder was gone.

The zombie let out a scream of pure unadulterated rage.

Mercy General Hospital Clear Creek, Idaho Sunday, 6:30 a.m.

Mulder stood by his bed for a moment to wait for the dizziness to
pass. He had to get back out there, Vince was in trouble .

Vince could not perform the elaborate sexual fantasies that other
vampires did. Vince was, relatively speaking, a very young
vampire. His magic was just not strong enough yet. < And heaven
help them all when he did gain the power.> He had to get Vince
out of there before Weaver found out his valuable captive vampire
was totally worthless. Not that he could blame Weaver if he
wanted to kill Vince. Mulder had entertained a few fantasies
about that himself.

It took him what seemed like forever to dress. It was amazing how
hard it was to just zip your jeans when your hands were bandaged
and you could not look down without getting dizzy. And the shoes
would just have to remain untied.

When Mulder was finally ready, he stuck his head out the hospital
room door. Coast was clear. No nurses, no doctors and more
importantly, no Scully. She had been waiting when he arrived at
the hospital. He had been glad to see her but she was definitely
going to kill him when this was over. She had made that very
clear and that was before this escape attempt. He hated to make
her worry but he really didn't have a choice. She would never
understand about Vince. Sometimes a good ditch was worth a
thousand words.

Holding on to the wall for support, Mulder made his way carefully
down the hall. He had turned the second corner and was feeling
reasonably secure in his success when he felt a large hand land
on his shoulder.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Now that was familiar! Walter. Of course it was Walter. Did that
man have radar or what? Mulder absolutely could not get away with
anything any more. And he used to be so good at it.

And to make matters worse, just as he looked up into the angry
eyes of his boss, the damned dizziness hit again and he felt his
knees begin to buckle. As he headed for the floor he felt himself
caught in familiar strong arms and turned. Half carried, half
dragged back the way he had come. Shit!

"I don't know what it's going to take to get you to behave but I
swear the minute you are on your feet, I am going to find it. You
are
menace to yourself and to the public in general. I just don't ..
. "

Shit! Now Scully would find out about his ill-fated attempt at
escape and all hell would break loose. Mulder felt himself
growing more nauseous as they made there way down the sterile
hallways. God, he hated hospitals. That smell alone was enough to
make even a healthy person sick.

"You're going to make me carry you again, aren't you."

Mulder tried to shake his head but just sagged farther for his
effort. An arm slipped under his knees and he was lifted up in a
strong embrace just as his old friend, the darkness, came for him
again.

Skinner brought his now unconscious agent back to the room and
laid him gently on the bed. He didn't bother undressing him. He
wanted Scully to come in here and see him just like this. He
chuckled to himself, Scully was going to kill her partner. And
Walter was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Skinner sat down in a corner and waited for the show. It wasn't a
long wait.

Scully came back with a newly acquired cup of coffee in her right
hand. She stopped dead in her tracks. "Mulder! Why are you
dressed? What have you been up to now?"

Mulder moaned softly and fluttered his eyelashes. Skinner
chuckled again. Mulder always had the worst timing. It would have
been to his advantage to stay out cold for just a little longer.

Mulder looked up into Scully's angry eyes. "Mulder why are you
dressed? I can give these nurses a show just like Dr. Ramsey did
in Ohio, you know."

Mulder looked down at himself. How did he get back in bed. Oh
yeah, Skinner. He looked around the room trying to locate his
boss. He couldn't risk sending Scully into that viper's nest but
Walter could handle those zombies. Walter could handle anyone.
Once he understood what he was dealing with.

"Walter, you have to . . . . I need you to go back and . . . and
get the vampire away from the zombies."

Skinner looked both loving and deeply concerned as he patted his
arm, "Sh-h-h-h, don't talk Mulder. You must have a fever. Just
rest. Things will be clearer in the morning."

Mulder rolled his eyes. He was never going to be able to convince
either of them. He looked back, he owed it to the vampire to try
once more. They stood frozen in place. He looked around wildly,
"Vince?'

"No, not Vince, My Beautiful Fox."

Mulder was surprised to see Antonio D'Argario, the Vampire King,
step out of the shadows.

"Wh . . . what are you doing here?" Mulder tried to sit up, to
move back against the head of the bed. He didn't make much
progress before the vampire laid a large, cold hand in the middle
of his chest and pushed him down flat on his back again.

"I want to help of course. Vince is such a gentle soul, I just
can't let the zombies kill him. Of course in return for my
assistance I will expect a small favor from you, My Beautiful
Elusive Fox.."

" A small fa . . . favor? Like what?"

"One fantasy. Freely given with you and these lovely friends of
yours. One long erotic weekend with your full cooperation and no
escape attempts."

Mulder swallowed hard. "And you won't try to keep me afterward?"

"No, I give you my word as a vampire. One weekend and you are
free to leave. Favor completed, payment in full. What do you say,
one weekend for Vince's life? Do we have a deal?"

What choice did he have really. He couldn't get out of here,
couldn't get anyone to believe him, this was his only hope.

"Okay, deal."

Two hours later an ecstatic Vince showed up suddenly in Mulder's
hospital room.

"Oh Sweet Boy, it was so exciting. The zombies never knew what
hit them. King D'Argario was magnificent. Body parts were falling
everywhere. He cleaned out that den of murdering zombies and
rescued me. Imagine that, the king of all of the vampires rescued
me. He also says that he might grant me the power to do sexual
fantasies. Isn't that wonderful, Sweet Boy? Think how much fun we
are going to have now."

Mulder buried his aching head in his pillow and groaned. "Oh,
God."

One Month Later A Ranch in Colorado

Scully kissed Mulder softly, her arms twined around his neck.
Small delicate hands were playing softly in his dark hair. "Oh
Mulder, this is so wonderful. I can't believe you planned this
weekend get away for the three of us. Who did you say this ranch
belonged to?"

"Uh-h-h-h . . . a friend." He smiled down into her lovely face.
"I hope you and Walter have a wonderful time this weekend,
Scully."

"What about you Mulder," she kissed the tip of his nose. "Aren't
you going to have a good time too?"

"Oh don't worry about me Scully. If you have good, I'll consider
the weekend a total success." He pulled Scully more tightly
against him and buried his nose in her beautiful hair.

Just then Walter Skinner burst into the room, his gun pointed at
Mulder's head.

Oh Shit!

The End Five

Vampire Series VI Bad Debt by DiAnn



A Ranch in Colorado

Walter Skinner burst into the room. "Get away from my sister, you
Low Down Belly Crawling Snake." Mulder's head jerked up from
where it was buried in Scully's beautiful hair.

There, standing in the doorway was 'Western Wear Walter'. Jeans,
blue work shirt, a white hat pulled low over his steely brown
eyes and a Colt 45 pointed straight at Mulder.

"I said . . . let go of my sister."

Mulder released his hold on Dana Scully and watched as Skinner
cocked back the hammer on the six gun in his hand. Oh Shit!

Dana turned slowly, "Oh Walter, put down the gun. I was just
giving a proper welcome to our new . . . brother." She smiled
evilly at the shock on Walter's face. She didn't see that Mulder
wore the same expression. He did not want to be Scully's brother.
Jeep! Damned vampires.

"What?" Skinner did not sound happy about this prospect either.

"Hey what's going on?" Alex Krycek stepped into the room behind
Skinner. Mulder growled and started for him, it was, after all,
common practice to deliver a few punches upon sight of Alex. He
was stopped by Scully's hand on his chest.

"I wouldn't do that. My brother Alex may be smiling but he's
dangerous. You'll learn that in a short order."

"Learn what?" The third 'brother' stepped around Walter's broad
back.

Mulder gaped. "Frohike?"

"What the hell's a Frohike? My name's Melvin, Melvin Skinner. The
question is, who are you?"

Scully's smile became bitter, "It would seem the old man brought
home a wife. Guess that buying trip to the east was a little more
successful than he planned. This," Scully pointed with disdain to
Mulder, "is our new baby brother." Scully, in true sisterly form,
looked more than happy to have placed the confused looks on her
family's faces. The hang dog face on Mulder was just an added
bonus.

Then in the spirit of true western hospitality, they all, in
unison welcomed Mulder to the family, "Ah, Shit!"

Ranch Dining Room 20 Minutes Later

Mulder looked around the Breakfast table. He was still in shock.
Sitting at the head was none other than Charles Skinner. Looking
as formidable and forbidding as his FBI Assistant Director son
ever had. Sitting to his right, simpering and fawning over the
big man was Mulder's mom, Teena Mulder, now Teena Skinner. And
around the rest of the table, looking pissed off and ready to
send Mulder back where he came from, preferably in a box, were
his new siblings.

Mulder sighed and stared down into his plate, knowing the way
King D'Argario's fantasias were wont to go, this was not going to
be pretty.

"Walter! Alex! Melvin! Dana!" Mulder jumped as Charles Skinner
barked out each name.

"Yes, Sir." Came a chorus of prompt replies.

"I want you all to help Fox get acclimated to his new home. Show
him the ropes and" he eyed his clan meaningfully, "don't let him
get killed."

Frohike looked at Mulder evilly, "What if he gets hurt a little?
A ranch is 

a dangerous place for a delicate little city kid."

"A few bumps and bruises are bound to happen. Just make sure he
survives and learns how to be a real rancher. City living is
soft, toughen the boy up."

"I am not a <boy>," Mulder mumbled in disgust.

Teena looked at him with reproach, "Fox, you're only nineteen.
The other boys are older than you and more experienced on the
ranch. You need to listen to them, Dear."

"Yeah, you need to listen to us, <Dear>." Frohike sneered under
his breath.

Mulder gulped. Oh Shit!

Two Hours Later

Mulder wanted to cry. He had done some horse back riding while at
Oxford. A friend had owned a large stable and they had gone
together often. But this was torture. This hard under padded
saddle was eating into his backside and they had been galloping
full-tilt-boogy for what seemed like hours. He was sure his butt
was a mass of blisters by now and his brains felt scrambled.
However, his new 'family' showed no sign of slowing up.

"Where are we going? And why so damned fast. Is there a fire or
something?"

"Shut up, Kid. We'll tell you what you need to know, when we're
ready." Walter growled back at him.

"Yeah," Frohike hissed at him. "We don't want you or your
conniving mom here so just shut up and maybe we'll forget we're
stuck with you .. . for a while anyway." They all laughed. It was
not a friendly sound.

It seemed it was fence mending day. They kept Mulder at the
unfamiliar manual labor all day, sweltering under the relentless
sun. They didn't even let him take a break for a noon meal. By
sundown, Mulder was hot, thirsty, exhausted and totally pissed
off.

On the way back to the ranch they passed a tiny stream. It was
just too inviting and Mulder pulled his cantankerous horse over
to the water, dismounting before the animal was even fully
stopped.

"Hey! Get back on your horse. We're not stopping here." Frohike
seemed to be the self-appointed tyrant of the family. But it was
really hard to tell, they were all bullies.

"Maybe you aren't stopping here, but I am." Mulder didn't bother
looking at them as he spoke, he just got down on his belly and
lowered his whole face into the refreshing water.

Suddenly he found himself hauled up, his feet scrambling for
purchase on the muddy bank. Alex was right in his face.

"You want water, Pretty Boy, I'll give you water." Placing both
hands in the middle of Mulder's chest, he pushed backward. It
wasn't a very big creek so there really wasn't much of a splash.
Kind of disappointing really, especially when Mulder chose to
just lay where he fell. The landing on sharp rocks had been a
little uncomfortable but actually the cool water was worth it.

As expected, he felt himself hauled out of the stream by rough
hands. But then they surprised him by throwing him face down over
a fallen log. "Hey, let me up."

"Sure Foxy, we'll let you up, just as soon as we teach you to do
what we say, when we say it." Alex held his arms behind his back
and he thought it was Frohike who was all but sitting on him.

"Take his pants down, I want to see."

"Jeep Dana," Alex moaned, "do you always have to be such a slut.
You've got every man in the county hot on your tail, and you want
this city boy too? And, he's your brother for Christ's sake."

"Well he's real cute and besides he isn't blood relation. Come on
Alex. . 

. Ple-e-e-e-ease," Dana whined. "I helped you get a look at Amy
Morrison last Fourth of July."

"Yeah, like that was some great big treat. Her chest was as flat
as Melvin's. Maybe flatter." That earned him a glare from
Frohike.

"Not my fault. I took her skinny dippin' so you could find out
for yourself. If you didn't like what you saw, that's your
problem. Now it's pay back time, I want to see him."

Alex looked over at his older brother, who was busily stripping
the leaves off a freshly cut hickory switch, "Bare, Walter?"

"Yeah, I want to whip him where his mama won't see it. I doubt
she still has to diaper him. At least I don't think so. What
about it, Baby Face, you out of nappies yet?"

Mulder growled and struggled against the two people holding him
down. "God damn it, this is not funny. Let me up right now. I am
sick and tired of these f**king games."

Frohike grinned. "Oh-h-h, the pretty little city boy has a temper
and a dirty mouth."

Walter smirked, "Not our problem, we'll let Pa deal with that.
Right now we are going to give him his first lesson in obeying
orders on a ranch. Alex?"

Alex soon had Mulder's pants around his knees. Frohike was having
a hard time holding the fighting, spitting and cursing federal
agent over the log.

Dana in the mean time, was giggling and clapping her hands. "I
knew it! I just knew he would have a gorgeous backside. Just look
at that."

"It is a very nice ass, " Frohike agreed.

Alex groaned, "Jeep, Melvin. I think I'm going to have to tell Pa
that you like boys."

"Well, so do you."

"Yeah, but I like girls too."

Frohike glared at Alex, "So what? You think that will make a big
difference in the old man's eyes? You nail everything that walks,
so it's okay? I don't think . . . "

"Will you all just shut up!" Walter glared at his siblings, "I'd
like to get this done and be back to the ranch before I turn into
an old man."

"You're already an old man. Let's see last birthday was twenty-
eight, right Walter?"

"Alex, I'm warning you . . . "

"Will you come on Walter," Frohike pleaded. "He's stronger than
he looks, I'm having a hard time holding him down."

The switch landed with a breath taking smack across his butt.
Mulder scrunched up his eyes and bite his lip. No way was he
making one sound, he would not give them the satisfaction. Walter
only delivered eight or nine painful stripes with the switch but
they burned like hell, throbbed with every beat of the agent's
heart. Walter probably wanted to do a lot more damage but was not
really sure what 'Pa' would think about them beating his brand-
new stepson. Mulder had a feeling the old man would not care in
the least. He just hoped the four 'Siblings From Hell' didn't
find out that little piece of information too soon.

When they finally let Mulder up he had tears in his eyes but he
had not made a sound during the entire embarrassing episode. Even
when Krycek had copped a very thorough feel before releasing him.
Bastard.

If Mulder thought the horseback ride this morning had been bad,
it was nothing compared to the one back to the ranch. Now he had
a welted butt bouncing against the saddle. It didn't help that
Dana kept batting her eye lashes at him while Walter and Alex
looked daggers through him because of her flirting And worst of
all, Frohike was making eyes at him too. Jeep!

He was so busy watching what was going on with his untrustworthy
companions he wasn't watching where his horse was going. It
stepped into some kind of hole and went nuts. Mulder found out
quickly that a childhood spent on Martha's Vineyard did not
prepare one to stay on top of a bucking horse. The last thing he
remembered was his head impacting with the ground.

Back At The Ranch

Alex stuck his head inside the ranch house door. He did not think
that bringing the newest family member home unconscious was going
to go over very well with his old man or 'that' woman . . .

"Sh-h-h, no one's around. Get him upstairs, quick."

He turned around to Walter, who had Mulder slung over his
shoulder. Walter was a little puzzled that the boy's weight felt
so familiar somehow.

"Get who upstairs?" Charles Skinner had a reputation for not
letting his wild children put anything over on him. They all
froze where they were standing.

"Did you go ahead and kill him after I told you not to?"

Frohike found his tongue first, "He ain't dead, Pa. He let his
horse stumble in a prairie dog hole and got thrown. He'll be okay
in a little while."

Charles Skinner rubbed a hand over his face. "Look, I know all of
you are unhappy about my sudden marriage. That's understandable.
But don't kill Christeena's kid. That's an order."

None of the Skinner offspring would look their father in the eye.
Charles Skinner sighed, it looked like a hard road ahead for Fox.
Oh well, it would no doubt do the boy some good. If he survived.

They carried their burden upstairs. Alex and Melvin arguing over
who got to undress the unconscious man.

"Why you Alex," Melvin pouted. "You always get all the good
looking ones."

"He wouldn't want you, Melvin. You're a little toad."

"Well, I didn't see him showing any great interest in you either.
Could the renowned Alex Skinner charm be wearing thin?"

"I think he wants me."

"You think everyone wants you, Dana," Alex sneered.

Melvin added his own witty retort to back up his brother, "Yeah,
Dana."

Walter threw the man on the bed and turned to the others, "Will
you all just shut up. I am going to put our 'baby brother' to
bed. All of you just get out of here, I am tired of listening to
you."

Alex eyed his older brother, "You heard what Pa said, Walter, you
can't kill him. Not in the house anyway."

"Get out. NOW!" The Skinner clan scrambled for the door. Jeep!
Sometimes Walter had the disposition of a rattlesnake.

Walter started roughly pulling away layers of clothing from the
man on the bed. When he was finally undressed, he ran his hand
over the muscled chest and flat stomach. He was surprised by his
reaction. Unlike his two semi-worthless brothers, he had never
been interested in men sexually. But something about this one was
different. He continued his explorations of Mulder's hard body
until he heard a low moan and saw long lashes start to flutter.

Hazel eyes opened and stared into his, "Walter?"

Walter lowered his head and covered Fox' lush mouth. It felt
right. It even felt familiar. Strange. And, more confusing, he
was welcomed with open arms. He raised his head and looked into
eyes, now dark with passion. Oh well, first time for everything.

He turned Fox over, ran his hand over the welts his switch had
left earlier, heard the man gasp as his calloused hand rubbed
over sore skin. Then Walter reached for the oil Alex kept in this
room. He rubbed some over the hurt cheeks, then probed his thick
fingers between them. He was beginning to understand what Alex
and Melvin saw in this practice. There was something very
exciting about controlling a beautiful man like this. Fox was
making the most wonderful whimpering sounds now.

As he entered the hot tight body beneath him, Walter was shocked
not only at how familiar this felt but at the wave of affection
that washed over him. This could not be happening, he could not
become soft on this city boy.

Mulder now lay curled up on Walter's broad chest. At first he had
pushed Fox away but then he just couldn't resist drawing him in
closer. It was something about the feel of his soft dark hair and
the unique way he smelled. Walter was still convinced that they
had to get rid of the interloper and her son, but in the mean
time, he planned to enjoy this beautiful boy. Whenever and
wherever he wanted. The kid had sealed his fate when he didn't
resist this first time. But why did it feel so damned familiar.

Skinner Ranch The Next Morning

Mulder awoke this time with a splitting headache. He looked
around carefully through slitted eyes. Not yet light outside.
What had awakened him?

Then he felt it. A warm female withering against him. Scully! He
would know that naked little body anywhere. He was immediately
hard as a rock, in spite of last nights activities with Walter.
It had been so long since he had awakened in Scully's arms. Well,
actually it had only been day before yesterday. It just seemed
like he had been on this God awful ranch for weeks.

They made slow, passionate love. He was crazy about this woman.
No one could make him feel the way Scully did. Scully actually
screamed his name as she came. He soon followed with his own
muffled cry and collapsed on the pillow beside her.

"I love you, Sc . . . "

The door to his room crashed back against the wall and hung from
its broken hinges. Charles Skinner and a hysterical Teena stood
in the doorway.

"How dare you take advantage of my daughter in this manner? I
have treated you like my own son and this is how you repay me?
Dana, go to your room, Sweetheart. I know you are too innocent to
know about the ways of slick city boys."

"Yes, Pa." Scully let a couple of tears roll down her cheek, as
she wrapped 

a blanket around her. She managed to give one evil smile to
Mulder before leaving the room.

"Fox, you will go straight to my den."

Shit!ShitShitShit! Mulder was beginning to wonder just how much
of one's real personality came through in these vampire
fantasies. They were going to have to discuss this evil,
manipulative streak that had become all too apparent in Scully.
For the first time, he felt a little sorry Charlie and Bill
Scully, Jr.

- Skinner Ranch -Charles Skinner's Den

Well this was a little too familiar. Mulder was bent over a large
wooden desk, his pants around his ankles. Charles Skinner was
droning on about how real western men did not take advantage of
sweet innocent girls. <Yeah, right!> And his mother was standing
beside her new husband, a lace handkerchief pressed to her eyes.

"Son, you are about to become acquainted with my razor strop. And
I have a feeling it won't be the last time either. You have a way
of finding trouble, Boy. You may have gotten away with this kind
of behavior with your mother but not with me. You are going to
grow up and become a man in this house. Now don't move."

The rest of the Skinner family stood outside the closed door
listening. There was no mistaking the sounds coming from inside
the den.

Alex winced, "Oh-h-h, that's gotta' hurt. Sounds like strap on
bare to me."

Frohike smiled, "Yeah, he won't be sitting for a while. Why isn't
he yelling? Everybody always yells when Pa gets goin' with that
old razor strop."

"He's stubborn," Walter supplied.

They all winced as several more loud cracks sounded through the
door. Their father was using the six stokes in one spot and then
move on to the next method. It was one of their father's worst
ways of wielding that strap. Fox was getting a real hiding, no
doubt about that. There wouldn't be an inch of skin on his butt
or thighs that wasn't painted a dark burning red.

Walter stared at them thoughtfully, "He's too bullheaded to leave
here on his own. We are going to have to come up with something
really good to get Pa to throw him off the ranch. He might even
take that mother of his with him."

Scully smiled happily, "Well, I'm doing my part."

"Yeah," Alex sneered, "and it's what you do best, too."

"You're just jealous 'cause you want him."

Alex just shook his head, "I just want him gone." Then he decided
to throw in a lie, "He's not my type." Dana looked skeptical at
that. Everyone was Alex's type . . . everyone. Especially the
tall, dark and gorgeous like their new brother.

"Well, I want him," Frohike said honestly.

"Will you all just shut up a minute, I can't think." Walter
wondered how anyone ever got a good idea in this family of
clucking chickens.

The sound of leather on bare skin was coming now at an even,
consistent tempo. Stroke after painful stroke, delivered slowly.
Their dad was finishing up by covering every inch of blistered
skin one more time. Alex fought the urge to rub his own backside.

"We need to pull another job."

"What!" "What!" "What!"

"But you said we needed to lay off for a while, it's not like we
need the money, Walter. It was always just for fun." Alex
reminded him.

"I changed my mind. We need to pull one more job. Maybe the bank
in town. And Pretty Boy in there is going to help us. Pa already
thinks he is 

a trouble maker. Once he finds out his new 'son' is a bank
robber, it's back to Massachusetts or New York or wherever the
hell he came from." Walter smiled smugly at his own cunning.

"Won't he tell Pa that we were in on it?" Frohike wasn't sure
about his plan at all. Walter was smart but he wasn't thinking
straight, he just wanted to get rid of Fox right now. Frohike
kind of liked the kid. He really wanted to get to know him a lot
better. A tingle ran up his spine, a whole lot better.

The door opened suddenly and a tear stained Mulder was shoved out
to join his new brothers and one traitorous 'sister'. Charles
stayed in the den to comfort his despondent new wife.

Clear Creek, Edge of Town The Next Morning

"I'm not robbing any bank!"

"Yes, you are."

"You wanna' bet?" Mulder had to draw the line here, someone could
get hurt. He still wasn't really sure how realistic these little
vampire plays were and he wasn't going to risk the lives of
Scully or Skinner. As for Alex, if he ever got shot, Mulder
wanted to be the one to do it.

"Sure, we'll take that bet." All three brothers reached for their
belt buckles. "You ever been bare-assed whipped by three men at
once, Fox. It's real painful and extremely embarrassing when it
happens in the middle of Main Street." Walter almost looked like
it would rather do that than rob the bank.

"The sheriff, Bill Scully, Jr. is friend of ours. He won't stop
us until you have to be carried out of town, face down over your
saddle. And that fine ass of yours should draw quite a crowd."
Walter stared right into his eyes, "So do you get a public
whipping or rob a bank?"

Shit! Mulder just nodded his head. Why fight it? He had no
illusions that Bill Jr. would rush to his rescue. He was going to
rob a bank and then probably be hanged for it. That could be why
the vampire had promised he would let Fox go after this weekend,
he was going to be dead.

Clear Creek Bank One Hour Later

Mulder looked around carefully. There were only two customers in
the bank, a man and a woman who appeared to be together. Other
than that there was just the manager and one lone terrified
teller. He could get behind that, he was terrified himself. He
tried to smile at the teller to reassure him but it really didn't
seem to help much. The man just shook harder.

His loving siblings had their faces covered and hats pulled low
over their faces, he of course, did not. This thing stunk of set
up to high heaven.

"Fox, open the safe."

Mulder rolled his eyes at Alex. Great now they were using his
name. He could feel that noose tightening around his neck
already.

Mulder hesitated before he touched the cast iron safe. Old habits
died hard, he supposed there was really no need to worry about
leaving prints here. He hoped. He reached into the opened safe
and stuffed all the money into a feed sack that he carried. Now
he was a bonafide criminal.

The three robbers left the bank without too much trouble. Mulder
nearly mowed down a little old lady making her way inside. He had
to do some fancy maneuvering to keep her on her feet and himself
too. It didn't help that the whole time she was beating him with
her umbrella. He was sure he would be left to face the music
alone is he was caught while stumbling around on the sidewalk.

They rode a short way out of town and met up with Scully and
Frohike, then they rode west into the mountains. Walter and Alex
hid the money in a crevice under a rock overhang that looked just
like an alien hand. At least it did to Mulder.

As they made their way back down the mountain toward home, Mulder
was preoccupied with what would happen next. He had no doubt that
he was recognized in that bank.

"The sheriff is probably waiting for us at the ranch by now."
Mulder wanted to know what the 'Skinners' had planned for him
next.

"What are you talking about, Fox?" Alex sneered at him, "We just
ran into you a little while ago. Wasn't very nice of you to run
off when we had so much work to do today. Pa is not going to be
happy."

Mulder started to turn around to gape at Alex over his shoulder
but his bumbling horse picked that moment to find a crevice in a
rock. He felt himself flying through the air, his body finally
impacting with solid rock.

"Mulder?"

"Mulder, wake up. Can you hear me?"

Mulder opened his eyes to see Scully leaning over him, looking
concerned.

"Dana?"

"What's wrong with you? I was beginning to worry that you had
slipped into a coma in your sleep. When you go out, you really go
out." Scully was pulling on his arm. He looked around. The ranch?

"Where . . . where am I?"

"Where are you? We're still on vacation in Colorado and we have
to go into town in about an hour. You need to get up and get a
shower."

Mulder sat up on the bed and stared at her. "This is my room."

Scully was beginning to look more concerned now, "Well actually,
all three of us are staying in this room but yeah, I suppose it
is yours. Mulder are you all right?"

Mulder shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. He was back!
They were back! The nightmare fantasy was over. He wasn't going
to be hung for bank robbery or be beaten to death by an irate
stepfather. He smiled for the first time in days. "Scully, I'm so
glad you're here."

"Uh-h-h, well yeah, I'm glad you're here, too. But like I said we
have to go into town. Since the bank robbery was a federal
offense and we are already here, Walter offered our services to
the local police department. It seems that several of the
officers are old friends of Walters', so try to behave yourself
today."

"Bank robbery?"

Scully came over and lay her hand on his head. That was not a
good sign. When he said things that his partner either did not
understand or did not agree with, the first thing she always did
was check him for fever.

"Remember yesterday? Walter and I went into the bank to cash some
more travel checks and there was a robbery. We were the only
customers there, so we are needed as witnesses." Scully turned
away and started pulling his clean cloths out of the dresser.
"Well except for that poor older lady. The tall skinny guy tried
to run over her as he left. Wish we could have had that on tape,
it would have sold to that TV program, what is it, 'World's
Dumbest Criminals' or something like that."

"That's not a very nice thing to say, Scully. Maybe he was trying
to keep her from falling."

"Since when do you defend common criminals? The guy was a
bumbling idiot." She looked over at her partner. "Now why do you
have your lip stuck out like that, that robber being clumsy is
hardly your concern, Mulder."

"I just think you're being too hard on him."

Scully eyed him again, "Oka-a-a-y. Why don't you get cleaned up,
I'm going to go down and have a cup of coffee with Walter and his
police buddies. You need to hurry up."

When Scully left, Mulder buried his head in his hands. This just
could not be happening, could it? Had to be a coincidence. But
what if it wasn't. Now he had visions of spending the rest of his
life behind bars with a new beau named Bubba.

After he dressed, he went down stairs to see exactly what
evidence, if any, the Clear Creek Police Department had . . . on
him.

Clear Creek Police Department One Hour Later

"For some reason the surveillance camera didn't work. The whole
segment when the robbery took place is wiped clean. Damnest thing
I ever saw."

Mulder watched Walter as he nodded to the police chief, Duane
Edwards. Seems Walter and Duane used to play little league
together. Duane thought Mulder was a smart-mouthed kid. Same old,
same old.

Mulder cleared his throat and reached for his coffee, "Did you
get any. . . uh-h-h, prints?"

"Not much, we did lift one set from that old antique safe they
have as decoration in the bank lobby."

Mulder choked on his coffee. Skinner immediately started pounding
him on the back as he fought for breath.

"That's . . . that's enough, Sir. I'm fine now." Mulder gasped.

When it looked like the young agent would live, Chief Edwards
continued, "Agent Scully had mentioned that she saw that tall
skinny loser messing with it for some unknown reason, so we
dusted it. Got lucky."

Mulder choked again. Skinner pounded again. Edwards waited until
this new crisis was over.

"Oh and one other thing, the bank manager heard one of the
robbers call the tall kid by an animal's name. Something like
Bear or Wolf or something. He can't really remember. If it comes
to him, he'll give us a call."

Mulder choked a third time. Skinner resumed his pounding. Scully
got up, calmly walked across the room, took the coffee cup out of
her partner's hand, then returned to her seat. She immediately
brought up another screen of mug shots on the computer and took a
drink of Mulder's coffee.

"Scully, that's mine." Mulder choked out between coughs.

"It was yours. You were spitting it all over our boss, now it's
mine."

She took another sip. It was like taking a dangerous toy away
from a five-year-old. She sighed, all those years of expensive
education for this, Dana Scully, FBI Mulder-sitter. Jeep!

Police Chief Edwards tried once more, "So far those prints are
the only evidence we have found. In fact, we can't even find any
money missing. All the witnesses, you included, swear that the
tall ugly kid. . . "

"Skinny."

"Excuse me, Agent Mulder?"

"He was tall and skinny. Not tall and ugly. His description was
tall and skinny. You said ugly."

The chief eyed the peculiar young agent, "Oka-a-ay, sorry. The
tall <skinny> kid supposedly carried out a bag of money but all
funds in the bank are accounted for. This is the Damnest case
I've ever seen."

"I have to go over to the bank, see that antique safe." Mulder
started for the door.

"Mulder!" <Uh Oh, Skinner's marine voice.>

Mulder turned slowly to face him."Yes, Sir."

"You've been banned from the crime scene. You do remember what
happened yesterday, don't you."

Mulder just blinked at his supervisor, "Yesterday, Sir?"

Skinner walked over and took his agent's arm guiding him over to
a quiet corner of the station. "You had taken off your gloves and
then you reached for that damned safe. Officer Peterson filed a
formal complaint that you were trying to invalidate her findings.
That your intention was to tamper with evidence." Mulder's face
paled as he swallowed hard.

"It's okay, Mulder. I know better. You just got excited when she
found those prints. But I'm telling you, Agent Mulder, we are
here to assist. It is not your responsibility to solve this case
on your own. This is not an X-File."

Mulder swallowed again, "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Sir."

"Oh please, Mulder. Tell me you are not going to claim it was an
alien?"

"No Sir, I'm pretty sure it was an American Citizen."

"Wh . . . what?" But Mulder had already wondered off. Walter
looked after him. No matter what he expected Mulder to say, it
was always something different. How did he do that?

Mulder and Scully had gone to lunch when the results of the
prints came back.

Assistant Director Skinner was furious enough to bite nails. He
could not remember a time when he had been this angry. The one
thing he was sure of was that if he did remember that time, it no
doubt would have also been caused by Mulder.

He saw Mulder and Scully enter the station. It took him exactly
three strides to reach his exasperating agent. "Agent Mulder,
could I speak with you a moment please?"

"Of course, Sir." Mulder was immediately on guard. That vein in
Skinner's neck was bulging again. Throbbing in and out with each
beat of his heart, the man was enraged. An emotion Mulder clearly
recognized from past experience. Oh Shit!

Mulder gulped as he was led into a tiny office. Oh Shit, the last
time his boss had taken him into an office like this, he had used
his belt on him and then made him face the station full of
smirking cops.

"Uh-h-h, is something wrong, Sir?"

"You know damned well what is wrong, Agent Mulder. The prints on
that safe came back."

Oh Double Shit! Mulder just looked at him, he really didn't know
what to say. Would Skinner arrest him? Would Scully believe he
was a bank robber? Would Bubba be sensitive to his needs?

"I told you not to investigate this case on your own!"

Mulder was shocked. "Wh . . . what? I didn't."

Skinner grabbed his tie and pulled the agent in close. "You have
repeatedly disobeyed me, you have been blatantly disrespectful to
my authority, hell, on occasion you have even out maneuvered me
.. . but you have never lied to me. Don't start now. How else
would your prints. . . YOUR PRINTS, MULDER . . . have gotten on
that safe?"

"I...I...I..."

"How Mulder? If you didn't go back there and investigate on your
own, how did your prints end up on the safe. I want an answer and
I want it now."

"Out of body experience, Sir?"

"Mulder!"

"Poltergeist?"

"I'm warning you . . . "

"Transcendental Metaphysical Transference of Fingerprints."

"What? What the hell is that?"

"You don't know?"

"No Mulder, I've never heard of it."

"Good! I mean, that's good because it's very dangerous and that
is exactly what we are seeing here. We need to get back to DC as
soon as possible. First plane out. No delays." He tugged on his
boss' sleeve. "Let's go."

Skinner shook himself loose, "If this thing is so dangerous, why
would be leave? We're supposed to protect the public from danger,
Mulder, not run away from it."

"Well . . . it's uh-h-h . . . it's . . . targeted us. Yeah that's
it. It got me, next it will go after Scully. You don't want
Scully to get hurt, do you Walter?"

"Mulder . . . "

"First it will leave her fingerprints on something and then
she'll get really sick. She'll start feeling dizzy and become
delirious. We won't be able to understand anything she's saying
to us, then she will . . . 
"

"Why aren't you delirious? Oh wait, I know . . . we wouldn't be
able to tell the difference with you, would we?"

"Walter, please, we need to go back to . . . "

"Mulder, stop! Please. I can't even remember, at this point, what
I initially brought you in here to discuss. Now, we are staying
here to investigate this case. You will conduct yourself as part
of the team and you will not . . . listen to me carefully . . .
not go off on your own. Once again, this is not an X-File. Now
let's get back out there and get to work."

As Mulder turned to leave, Skinner reached out and gave him a
hard smack on the butt.

Mulder yelped in surprise and turned furiously on his boss,
"Hey!"

Skinner chuckled, "Just wanted to remind you how lucky you are
that you'll still be able to sit down when you leave this office,
unlike last time, huh Mulder? Bet you were worried when I brought
you in here."

"Very funny, Walter." Mulder growled but the effect was ruined by
the blush on his face.

Ranch House 36 Hours Later

"No, Scully!"

"Oh yes, Mulder. You ditched me again and I am sick of it. You
were gone for a whole day and no one, no one Mulder, knew where
you were. All we had was some cryptic message about how you knew
who robbed the bank and you had gone to find the money." Scully
glared at him.

"But Scully, I . . . "

"Walter and I were both worried sick. And then you come back with
a bump on your head, a sprained ankle, and a bag of money. Money
that wasn't missing from the bank in the first place, Mulder.
Skinner is still down there trying to straighten that one out."

"The money was . . . "

"And the robbers got away. You can't describe them, don't know if
they were man, woman, black, white or purple. You're a trained
federal agent, Mulder, how could you not notice what the robbers
looked like? And how did they get away from you? And how did you
end up with their money?"

"Scully, I . . . "

"But do you know what the worst part is, Mulder. You went alone.
You left your partner behind again. You have been told repeatedly
how dangerous it is to investigate without backup. But do you
listen, no-o-o-o--o, you just sneak out of bed and take off. Out
of my bed, Mulder. So you had your fun, now I get mine. Over my
knee, now."

"No, Scully!"

- Ten Minutes Later -

Walter Skinner walked in the front door and immediately heard the
sounds coming from upstairs. He wasn't surprised. Dana had been
furious when they had awakened to a 'ditch' note instead of a
Mulder.

Skinner winched, Fox would be feeling that spanking for a while.
It sounded like one of Scully's better efforts. He took off his
jacket and got something to drink before going upstairs. Time to
save Mulder from his partner again.

He opened the bedroom door to be greeted by the sight of Mulder's
bare butt. Not that Walter would ever complain about that
particular view. Unfortunately for Mulder, Dana was working over
said butt with the back of her hairbrush.

She looked up when Walter entered the room and momentarily rested
her instrument of torture on her partner's red, sore backside.

"So did you get that mess straightened out?"

"Yeah, the bank is going to hold the funds in escrow for six
months, then if they still don't know where the money came from,
it will be donated to charity." He nodded his head toward her lap
where Fox waited nervously for the rest of his spanking,
"Mulder's favorite charity."

Scully rolled her eyes, "Oh great, MUFON will be rolling in the
dough."

Mulder started to squirm again, "Scul-l-l-ly, let me up now."

She popped him on the right cheek, "Shut up Mulder, I'll get back
to you in 

a minute. I'm not nearly finished with you yet."

"This is embarr . . ."She smacked his other cheek even harder.
"Ouch!"

Skinner walked over and sat down beside her. He ran his hand over
Mulder's hot butt and the agent shivered. Walter wondered if it
was from pain or passion. "He's pretty well done already, Dana."

Scully tapped her brush impatiently on her intended target.
Mulder softly groaned as his fists tightened their hold on the
sheets. "Don't make me stop, Walter. I want him to remember this.
If he keeps going into those situations without backup we are
going to lose him." A tear slipped down Scully's cheek. Walter
brought up his thumb and gently wiped it away.

Skinner reached down and lifted Mulder's legs up and held them in
his own lap, stroking the man's thigh. He was delighted when
Mulder shivered once more. "Tell you what, give him a few more
and then he does some corner time. We'll talk to him later and if
we aren't satisfied with his repentance, you can have another go
at him. Okay?"

Mulder rolled his eyes, did they forget he could hear them or
what?

Scully got back to work and made her last six strokes count. They
were deadly. Skinner had Mulder's legs trapped so all he could do
was grip the sheets in his fists and squirm frantically. Scully
was sparing no mercy. By the time she laid down the brush, he was
throughly blistered.

He spent the next hour with his nose stuck in the corner of the
kitchen while Scully and Skinner prepared the evening meal and
discussed the case. He tried to ask one question but got his sore
butt smacked with some kind of kitchen utensil for his effort. He
didn't try again. He consoled himself with the fact that he was
not going to hang nor was he going to be making intimate
acquaintance with Bubba in jail. And the money would go to
charity.

He also thought about what had been happening all week. This
smelled of vampire. It would appear the King D'Argario had not
honored his agreement. Mulder was reasonably sure he was still
manipulating circumstances. After all, any other time, a pouty
lip and a few sweet words would have gotten him out of trouble
with Scully.

He really wanted to reach back and rub his sore butt. He didn't
dare. She probably still had whatever kitchen torture device she
had used on him earlier still close at hand.

Mulder had been forced to sit on a hard kitchen chair and eat
dinner, still naked. Jeep! Both Skinner and Scully seemed to
enjoy the meal and his squirming attempts to get comfortable
immensely.

So by the time he had convinced his keepers of his sincere
intentions to change his ways and been allowed to dress, it was
nearly ten o'clock. He slipped away unnoticed and headed
upstairs. He needed to make a call.

He dialed a number back in DC.

"Open Vein Bar. Wha d'a ya' want?"

"This is Special Agent Fox Mulder. May I speak to Vince, Please."

"Hey Vince, your pretty little boyfriend is on the phone." Mulder
winced.

Vince was on the phone in a heartbeat, "Sweet Boy? Is that really
you? I knew it. I just knew you would call me. I knew you would
realize that you felt the same way about me that I feel about you
and that you would..."

"Vince, will you just shut up a minute?" Mulder took a deep
breath, he couldn't believe he was about to do this.

"Vince, well...I...uh-h-h, you see... the thing is. . . I need
your help."

"My help? With a case? How wonderful! Of course I'll help you but
first you have to tell me you want a kiss."

"What?"

"You heard me, tell me you want a kiss If you want my help, tell
me you want me to come to you and kiss you senseless."

<Damned bloodsucking, useless...>

"Come on, say it. I'm waiting, Sweet Boy."

Mulder gritted his teeth until they hurt, "Okay. I want a
ki...kiss."

"And you shall have it, Sweet Boy. Now tell me you love me."

"Don't push your luck, Vince."

"Oh, all right. Can't blame a vampire for trying. So what can I
help you with, Sweet Boy."

The Ranch House One Hour Later

Mulder had gone outside and was swimming laps in the pool. The
water felt wonderful on his abused backside and his trouble
spirit.

"Whew Baby, you were right about this one. What a doll!"

"Ah-h-h-h-h!" Mulder nearly jumped out of his skin and took in a
good big mouthful of water. When he finally stopped sputtering
and regained his vision, Vince and a short, round, pretty blond
woman were standing at the edge of the pool. The woman was in a
long tie-dyed dress, headband and lots of brightly colored beads.
Lots and lots of beads.

Mulder climbed out of the pool while both Vince and his companion
eyed his speedo with considerable interest. He grabbed a towel as
quickly as possible.

"Are you an angel?"

"Lord no, Honey."

"Another vampire then?'

She had a deep pleasant laugh, "No, not one of them either."

Mulder looked at the vampire in confusion, held out both hands,
"Vince?"

"Louise is a Chiropractor, Sweet Boy."

Mulder's eyebrows arched high, "A . . . Chir...Chiropractor? Why,
Vince? Are vampires afraid of 'Bone Crunchers', too? I know I
am."

Louise immediately drug out a crystal on a chain and started
twirling it above Mulder's head. "Honey, a pretty thing like
doesn't have to be afraid of me. I work from love. Now repeat
after me - <I love myself and I am not afraid of Louise>."

Now Mulder really was scared.

"Louise is into New Age Healing and Affirmations, Sweet Boy. You
know, herbs and flowers, reflexology, numerology, rebirthing,
regression, spirit guides, colonics, that sort of thing."

"You're going to give the vampire king a colonic?"

"No, we are going to work on Scully and Skinner, Sweet Boy."

"Work on? Work on...how?" Mulder asked suspiciously.

"If we break the spell with them, D'Argario has to stop. It's
like a dance, Sweet Boy, if one person stops doing the tango his
partner has to stop too . . . or look pretty silly. Well, at
least that's what usually happens."

"Usually?"

"Don't worry, Sweet Boy, everything will work out just fine. You
know I have a knack for this kind of thing."

"Yeah right!'

"Honey, repeat after me, <I love myself and I will not be angry
with Vince>."

Mulder rolled his eyes. He had asked Vince for help and he had
brought him a Sixties Retro Chiropractor. Why did that even
surprise him?

Ranch House Next Morning

"Mulder, how sweet of you to offer to cook breakfast for us."
Scully smiled at her partner. She had been a little concerned
about him lately but he seemed fine this morning. Her Mulder was
back.

Skinner took a big drink of his coffee and spit it across the
table, "What the hell is this stuff, Mulder?"

"It's Hawthorn, Sweet Marjoram, Marshmallow, Black Mustard,
Nettle, Comfrey Drink. Much better for you than all that caffeine
in coffee."

"I'm not drinking that. I want my coffee."

Mulder stuck out his bottom lip to maximum range and let a single
tear escape from his left eye.

Scully patted her boss' arm. "Please Walter, drink it. Mulder has
gone to all this trouble for us. We don't want to hurt his
feelings, now do we?" She nodded her head in Mulder's direction
so Walter would not be deprived of the hurt puppy look on his
face.

Skinner sighed heavily, "Oh all right." He took another drink,
grimaced then smiled weakly at Mulder. He hoped Fox would turn
away so he could spit it out but no such luck. He somehow got it
down. He noticed Dana was having the same problem with the nasty
drink. Mulder continued to watch them until they had finished
their cups.

"Now I have a real surprise, muffins!" He set a big platter down
in front of them and refilled their cups with the herbal drink of
the day.

Skinner eyed them cautiously, "What's in there, Mulder."

"It's really good stuff, Walter. Oatmeal, raisins, milk..."

Scully nudged Walter and set a muffin in front of him. "Eat it.
Please." Oh Shit, now she was using those big blue eyes on him.
The two of them ganging up like this was more than he could
resist. What the hell, it was just one muffin.

The muffin was worse than the herbal drink. "This does not taste
like oatmeal, Mulder, what else did you put in here. Are they
poisonous?"

"Of course not, Walter. I would never want to harm you. I put in
a little flavoring. Just a few things that will make you feel
good all day. Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you. Now what's in it."

Mulder sighed in a very put upon way, "A little Cinnamon, some
Nutmeg..." Scully was nodding her head at him, so far so good,
"Coltsfoot, Catnip, Slippery Elm, Elderberries, Goldenseal,
Horehound and an egg."

Now they were both just staring at him. He stuck his lip out and
allowed both eyes to tear up this time. When that didn't seem to
be working quickly enough, he let his bottom lip tremble
slightly. Bingo!

Walter snatched up the muffin, "Oh for heavens sake, let's just
eat the damned things and be done with this. And Mulder, I'm
warning you, you are going to wear that lip out one of these days
and then you are going to be in real trouble."

When they were all dressed and ready to leave for the police
station, Mulder presented them with a gift. A piece of brightly
colored material stuffed with an unknown substance and tied with
a long ribbon.

"Mulder, what the hell is this. Have you gone completely insane
during this vacation? And Scully stop patting my arm. If he has
gone nuts we have to know about it and figure out a way to hide
it from the rest of the bureau."

Mulder was trying to slip the gifts around their necks, "It's for
luck. You wear it like this. I made them for both of you last
night." He tried the lip thing again, "All by myself . . . Just
for you."

Lip still worked! "Oh hell, give me that thing. You aren't crazy,
you are just tying to drive me crazy. It's damned well working,
too. You better reconsider. Once I'm locked away, you won't find
your next supervisor to be quiet so easy going."

Mulder rolled his eyes. Easy going? Self delusion was a terrible
thing to see.

- On Route To The Police Station -

"Mulder this thing is scratching me under my blouse, what it in
there anyway?"

"Oh not much Scully, just some herbs and berries. A couple of
crystals, a chnnfoo and some flowers."

"A chnn-what?"

Mulder signed, "A chicken foot, Scully."

"Ew-w-w-w-w, I'm wearing a chicken foot with my new Dior blouse?"

Mulder prayed the puppy dog face would hold out for one more
time, "Please Scully, I made it just for you. Because I love you,
Scully."

He heard Skinner snort but his boss didn't say anything. Neither
did Scully but she didn't take the 'necklace' off either.

"I brought some muffins with us, in case you guys get hungry."

They both groaned and Scully actually buried her head in her
hands. Guess they didn't want one right now.

- Police Department -

Mulder was passing his muffins out to everybody. He figured why
not? He would break the vampire's spell in the whole damned town
if he had too. He was getting a lot of first time takers but
repeat business was terrible.

"Agent Mulder, put those damned muffins away and work on this
case for a while. And what the hell are you doing with that piece
of rock?"

"Blessing the building with love, Sir."

Skinner started to get up with what could only be described as a
growl, so Mulder swiftly seated himself and buried his head in a
file. When he chanced a look up again, Skinner was busy talking
with Chief Edwards.

Mulder reached into his pocket and pulled out his secret weapon.
He made a nonchalant trip to the mens room spraying 'love potion'
as he went. He wanted to be sure to get one good spray onto
Walter but the man kept moving. Oh well, Mulder wasn't sure how
effective love potion would be on someone with the temperament of
a grizzly bear, anyway. He was making his way over to give Scully
a good hit of the spray when he saw her sniffing the air. Oops!
He decided to ditch the potion and get back to work.

Mulder looked up a short time later and found himself in a
surreal world. All of the police officers where hugging and
kissing each other. Some were even sobbing out their devotion for
their brothers in arms. At least the ones who were not making mad
dashes for the bathrooms.

A very pale Walter Skinner stumbled up to his agent. "Mulder,
your damned muffins have given everyone diarrhea. And I don't
know what has brought on this sudden bout of sentimental male
bonding. I'm not sure I want to know."

"That is odd, Sir."

"No it isn't. You made the muffins didn't you? You're here in the
station aren't you? Nothing surprised me when you're involved,
Mulder."

Skinner looked around and spotted Scully just coming out of the
ladies room.

"Come on, Mulder. I am closing this case. We have no suspects, no
evidence and no stolen money. We are going back to DC."

They gathered their files and collected Scully. She looked pale
and shaky. Mulder did feel a little bad about that. He would have
to make it up to her somehow.

The Open Vein Bar Two Days Later

"You didn't get in trouble with Skinner over those muffins, did
you, Sweet Boy?"

"Well, I'm banned from the kitchen. They won't even let me make
microwave popcorn by myself anymore."

"I've tasted your cooking, Sweet Boy, this is no great loss."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Thanks for breaking that spell,
Vince. I hate to admit it but I owe you one."

"Oh yes you do, Sweet Boy. You owe me one breath taking kiss,
which I plan to collect in about five minutes. And . . . one full
blown, new to the game, Vince The Vampire Wild Erotic Sexual
Fantasy."

"No! I never said I would..."

"How do you feel about Merry Old England, Sweet Boy? The naughty
serving boy of the Baron and Baroness Skinner?"

"Vince please..."

"Or maybe the spoiled son of a rich Georgia Planter, sent to live
with his cruel Uncle Walter and Aunt Dana?"

"I'm begging you, Vince, don't..."

"Or how about something with a ship again. That was so much fun!.
Fox? Sweet Boy, don't bang your head on the table like that,
you'll hurt yourself. Are you crying? Don't do that. You're
scaring the other vampires. Sweet Boy, you have to calm down and
..."

The End - Part 6

Vampire Series Part VII It's About Time by DiAnn



Georgetown Scully's Bedroom 5:00 a.m.

"Mulder."

Fox Mulder snuggled further into the warm nest he had made for
himself. He was wrapped snugly around Scully's beautiful naked
body and that was exactly where he wanted to stay. Besides, there
was something chilling about that dream voice that sent a wave of
pure terror up his spine. He did not want to have any little
surprises tonight. He was much too comfortable.

"Mulder."

"G'way."

"Come on, Sweet Boy, wake up."

Mulder opened one eye. It couldn't be! He blinked a couple of
times just to make sure and accepted the awful truth. His worse
fear was realized, Vince that damned useless vampire was sitting
on the side of their bed, poking at Mulder's bare shoulder with
one long icy finger.

Mulder closed his eyes tightly, "I said, go away. Now! Do it
before I open my eyes again."

"I have to talk to you, Sweet Boy. Your Scully and Skinner are in
terrible danger and you are the only one who can save them."

Two Hours Later Highway 70 West

Scully was shuffling through the information contained in the
case file now spread out on her lap. Reading a file in a moving
car was no easy task but she had become adept at it over the
years. "Mulder, I can't find the copies of the 302 forms
authorizing this case anywhere in the file."

When she didn't get an answer, Scully looked over at her partner
who was keeping his eyes very carefully on the road ahead. Trying
desperately to avoid looking at her.

"Mulder?"

"Well . . . uh-h-h . . . you see . . . "

"Oh no. Mulder you did get Skinner to sign off on this
investigation, didn't you? Please tell me this isn't happening
again."

"It'll be okay, Scully, we'll just take a quick look. Walter is
out of town until Wednesday, which is three whole days. He is
sure to sign off on the request when he gets back and we'll have
a head start on the investigation."

"And just why are you so sure he will sign off on this request of
yours."

Mulder wiggled his eyebrows at her, "He likes me."

Scully fought a smile as she put the file away and started
digging frantically through her purse.

"What are you looking for, Scully?"

"My hairbrush. I just want to make sure that I have it with me."

"Oh, come on Scully, this will be fun. Walter won't mind.
Especially," he looked at her pointedly, "when he doesn't find
out about it."

"All right, Mulder . . . for now. What exactly are we looking
into?"

"Reports of stra-a-a-ange happenings," he glanced over and
wiggled his eyebrows at her again, "just outside of Boston.
Specifically at the DeWit Mansion, now operating as the DeWit
Mansion Inn. This case has everything you like Scully, weird
flashes of light, strange noises . .. "

"Those are all things that you like, Mulder."

"And . . . missing bodies."

She raised on an eyebrow at him but remained silent.

"We'll have a nice couple of days in this beautiful historic Inn,
see what is going on and be back in D.C. in time to pick up our
302 and .. . " he wiggled his eyebrows at her again, "welcome
Walter home."

"Just remember what he said, Mulder. Our boss wants to come home
just once and find you have not gotten into trouble while he was
away. You promised."

Her partner snorted, "Not like I had a lot of choice in the
matter. Of course I promised."

"Mulder he was not threatening you with his belt, he was only
getting dressed."

"Yeah, right! Don't worry, Scully, I'm not going to get into any
trouble."

"Of course, you aren't, Sweet Boy. Are we there yet?"

"Mulder! Get your head up off the wheel and watch the road! What
is wrong with you? Why are you whimpering like that? You'd better
let me drive. Mulder? Mulder?"

DeWit Mansion Inn Murrey, MA

Scully appraised the old inn with a critical eye. Well, it may
have been a luxurious home once but it certainly had seen better
days. It was sad really. Such a grand and glorious history and
now it just seemed . . . well faded. Like a shadow of what it had
once been.

The front lobby was old and a little shabby but still wonderful.
Beautiful hand crafted mosaic tile floors, covered here and there
with softly faded oriental rugs. Stained glass placed
strategically in areas of the floor to ceiling windows, creating
glorious focal points of light. Hugh marble pillars stood guard
intermittently around the large sitting room and everywhere
Scully looked there were dark, rich walnut-covered walls. Not
that cheap paneling like in most of the motels she shared with
her partner, this was the real stuff and it gleamed warmly in the
soft muted light.

"Welcome to The DeWit Mansion, may I help you?"

Scully ran her hand along the polished wood of the desk. "Yes you
may. I'm Dana Scully. We have reservations. This is a beautiful
old house by the way."

"Thank you. We are trying to restore it. This mansion has a
marvelous history. It was built in the early eighteen hundreds by
a rich ship builder." The man lowered his voice to a
conspiratorial whisper, "It was said the man was a real tyrant
and quite mad. He had a wife with the face of an angel, who some
say, was more frightening than her diabolical husband. And then
there was the brother that no one ever talked about. In eighteen
nineteen there was some kind of scandal involving the bodies of a
young man and woman found in the basement. The mansion remained
in the hands of some distant relative for many years before being
sold to the DeWit Family in eighteen forty-one. It was turned
into an Inn in nineteen sixty-two when the last of the family,
Margarite DeWit died at the age of ninety-three."

"My partner is going to love that story."

Encouraged by the obvious interest of the beautiful woman in
front of him, the desk clerk continued, "Most people do love the
story. Are you going to be staying with us for very long, Mrs.
Scully?"

"Actually, it's Special Agent Scully, FBI. I believe you have
reservations for me and my partner, Fox Mulder." She looked
around but could not see Mulder anywhere. Now what?

"Yes." He smiled brightly, "You are in rooms 402 and 403. They
are adjoining, as per your request. As a matter of fact they were
once the master suit for the owner and his wife. However, I'm
afraid those aren't two of our newly redecorated rooms. We were
able to book
convention of Hospital Administrators this week. We're very
excited about it. We have just recently converted the stables
into a convention center. However, that does mean that you are on
the fourth floor. That floor is exactly as it has been for the
last one hundred plus years. The rooms are very lovely, just a
little worn."

Scully smiled at him. "I'm sure they will be fine."

Scully turned to find her wayward partner when a thought struck
her. "Did you say Hospital Administrators?"

"Yes Agent Scully, from all over the country."

"Would you mind giving me the name of the person who is in charge
of the conference? I would like to speak with them, I am also a
medical doctor. Perhaps I know some of the attendees." And maybe
they know what is going on with the missing bodies at this Inn.

He checked his computer and smiled at her, "Yes, his name is Dr.
Gerald Ramsey." He saw Scully's eyebrows climb, "Friend of
yours?"

"My partner is much more closely acquainted with him than I am,
actually."

The clerk smiled at the grinning red head. What a charming woman.

Mulder pulled the suitcases out of the trunk. Vince had better
know what he was talking about or Mulder was going to find
himself in big trouble with Scully and with Skinner. Not a
healthy situation.

"I thought we'd never get here, Sweet Boy. You drive like an
elderly gentleman making his weekly trip to the proctologist."

Mulder gritted his teeth, "I do not drive like . . . Vince, why
are we here at all. What is going on? Tell me now or I go in that
house, spend two great days in bed with Scully and then back to
DC."

"Well I'm really not sure. Some kind of experiment is going on
here. All I know for sure is that they were going to kidnap your
Scully and Mr. Skinner to participate in whatever they are doing.
Now, it's up to you, you can go have sex with your scary little
partner or you can find out what these people are up to and stop
them."

"Experiments? This is an Inn Vince, what kind of experimentation
could be going on here? The formula for a new hollandaise sauce
maybe?"

Vince shrugged his shoulder, "Fine. You want to make jokes, go
right ahead but when your two lethal lovers are gone, don't come
crying to me."

"Okay, don't get your fangs in a twist. I'll go check in and then
have a look around. This is a huge place, maybe there is some
kind of medical facility hidden here."

"<We'll> have a look around. This is my case."

"Your . . . your case! Since when do you have cases?"

"Since I gained my full powers." The vampire grinned wickedly, "I
have magic and don't you forget it. You let me help you or you'll
find out first hand how it felt to be the whipping boy for Henry
VI.

Shit! Mulder turned and stomped into the hotel while Vince
followed behind him looking smug and completely contented with
his life.

"Got our keys, Scully?"

"Yes. Where were you?"

"Uh-h-h-h, just looking around. Thinking about the case. You
know."

"Did you see any ghosts, Mulder?" She smirked at him.

Mulder rolled his eyes at her. "Ghosts, Scully? You have got to
be kidding me. What would possibly make you think I would see a
ghost?"

Scully just stared at him. She would have bet cash money that he
was here to look for ghosts.

"It isn't even dark yet, Scully. Jeez!" And he walked away.

Scully watched him retreat toward the elevator, "Well, at least
no one replaced him with a clone while he was out of my sight."

DeWit Mansion Inn Room 402

"How did you get us into this dinner tonight, Scully?" Mulder
asked. This was a stroke of pure luck, if anyone knew about
government experiments and lost or missing bodies, it would be
hospital administrators.

"They learned I was a medical doctor and extended the invitation
as a professional courtesy." She looked up into his eyes and
straightened his tie, "You know Mulder, I'm surprised that you
are so anxious to attend. I thought you wanted to look for ghosts
or something."

"If this makes you happy, it makes me happy. Come on Scully, I
want to see who is here. And we may not be looking for ghosts.
Ghosts do not usually steal bodies,"

She pulled him down and kissed the end of his nose. "Let's go. I
haven't gotten an opportunity to talk to other physicians for a
long time. This should be fun. A lot of fun."

He rolled his eyes at that doubtful notion but dutifully followed
her to the elevator and down to the banquet room.

The DeWit Mansion Hotel Private Dinner Party

Mulder looked around the room. Doctors were certainly a stuffy
bunch. He spotted the three doctors who were the main speakers
for this conference. Mulder was a little surprised. They looked
more like The Three Stooges than three genius doctors. Two of
them were short and rotund. The third was tall and willow thin.
He looked like a good brisk wind could easily knock him over. All
seemed ill at ease in this social atmosphere and any one of them
could have launched a successful campaign for the Nerd of the
Year' Award.

"Well if it isn't Fox Mulder, the FBI's Agent Boy,
Extraordinaire."

Mulder froze. He knew that voice. He looked up slowly to see Dr.
Gerald Ramsey being seated across from him. He blushed in spite
of his best efforts. He saw the doctor smile at his discomfort.

"My nurses are still talking about how much they enjoyed your
stay in our hospital, Agent Mulder."

Mulder blushed a more brilliant shade of red and nodded weakly at
Dr. Ramsey.

A middle-aged man in too tight pants and tons of gold jewelry,
seated to Ramsey's right, took the opportunity to join in the
conversation with the two handsome men. He eyed Mulder as if he
were the chef's selection on the menu for this evening.

"Agent? As in 007?" He batted his lashes at Mulder.

"No, Sir, as in FBI. Special Agent Fox Mulder." Mulder used his
best kick-ass- macho- federal agent- voice'. He didn't want any
misunderstanding about his interest, or lack thereof, in this
blatantly flirtatious man.

"Well you certainly are as handsome as that man in the movies."
He held out his hand limply, "My name is Toby Bender. I am Dr.
Carl Welch's . . . companion. Carl is one of the main speakers
this year and very busy, so I have lots of free time on my
hands."

He batted his eyelashes again and Mulder cringed. He glanced over
at Scully, who was carrying on a conversation with a bearded
little man on the wonders of artificial valves. No help there. He
gulped and glanced back across the table, Ramsey was talking
again.

"Yes, I had the pleasure of having Agent Mulder as a patient at
my hospital recently. We started off on a rather bad foot, I'm
afraid. But once he was made aware of hospital policies and
procedures, and what could happen when these procedures were
ignored, everything went much smoother for all of us. Didn't it,
Agent Mulder?"

Mulder swallowed hard. He didn't like the direction this
conversation was headed.

"Yes . . . yes, Sir. I think . . . "

Ramsey now had Toby's undivided attention, "Fox became quite
popular with my staff. They spent as much time as possible in his
room.
really think they just liked the view."

Mulder blushed again.

"Well," Toby laughed. "I can understand that." His mascara laden
lashes batted once more, "You are quite gorgeous, Agent Mulder.
Mulder shuddered and reached for his iced tea.

"Yes, I heard my nurses make several comments that Agent Mulder
had many spectacular ass-ets. Especially after . . . "

Mulder spewed iced tea through his nose earning him a glare from
Scully and a chuckle from his former doctor. "Pl . . . please Dr.
Ramsey, could we change the subject now. I'm sure Mr. Bender
doesn't want to hear about my stay in the hospital." He could
feel his face flaming with embarrassment.

Toby Bender winked at him. "Oh, Fox you are blushing so
charmingly. I can see why his nurses were smitten."

"Oh yes, Mr. Bender, you would be surprised what a wonderful
shade of red Agent Mulder can turn with the correct stimulation."

Mulder choked on his tea again. Scully reached over and took it
away from him, sitting it down on the table in front of her
before resuming her conversation with the gentleman to her right.
Jeez! Maybe she should start carrying one of those little sippy
cups for him.

As the three Reconstructive Surgery Specialists took the podium,
Mulder watched Dr. Ramsey out of one corner of his eye. Deciding
the quack doctor wasn't going to enlighten the dinner table with
tales of how to keep errant FBI Agents in line, he listened to
Moe, Larry and Curly' talk about their big medical breakthrough.

They had discovered an artificial prosthetic that functioned
identically to the lost limb. They claimed it was perfect in both
appearance and feel. And actually attached itself to the body to
become a permeant part of the living tissue. It was, they
claimed, a medical miracle. He glanced at Scully, Jeez! She
questioned everything that her own partner said but believed this
stuff. Just label it with science and reel Scully in.

As he listened he realized they only wanted to talk about
successful results with three patients. When asked about initial
test subjects, they were vague. When asked about funding they
became nervous and moved on quickly. When asked about the actual
mechanics of their procedures, they were evasive, almost
defensive.

Mulder the psychologist watched the body language and grew more
suspicions by the moment. This whole thing just reeked of
government funding and cover-up. More covert labs doing dark
little experiments on the American public. He was sick of it.

Finally he couldn't stand it another moment, he stood to ask some
questions of his own, "Is your project funded by the government?"
He felt Scully pulling on his sleeve, trying to make him sit down
again.

"Uh-h-h, we would like to focus on the results at this ti . . . "

"Did you come here in a black helicopter?"

"Uh-h-h-h . . . "

"Do you know a man who chain smokes?"

The three little men were staring at him with open-mouthed
surprise from their position behind the podium. They looked
decidedly nervous and distressed. The crowd was beginning to look
harshly at the disruptive young man asking these rude and
inappropriate questions.

Mulder went in for the kill. "Are you abducting innocent
civilians to use as lab rats for your project? Are you covering
up these abductions with false reports of UFO sitings and alien
abductions? Are you or are you not, involved in a global
conspiracy to . . . "

Mulder suddenly realized the room had gone dead silent and Scully
had laid her head down on the table. Actually she seemed to be
pounding it against the table. Interesting. He had only ever seen
Skinner do that, perhaps she had picked up the habit from the
Assistant Director.

Outdoor Pool Area One hour later

Mulder walked morosely around the deserted pool, he was in
trouble. Scully wasn't even speaking to him . . . well except to
threaten him with that damned hairbrush of hers. And that asshole
Ramsey was lurking around somewhere, probably hanging all over
Scully. Well he couldn't have her. Mulder might drive Scully
absolutely crazy but she loved him, he was sure of that. Ramsey
didn't stand a chance. Did he?

He sat down forlornly on a deck chair and looked at the dark
water. Why was it that no one ever listened to him? He had some
perfectly legitimate questions for those doctors and no one,
including Scully, wanted to hear them.

"Fox?"

Toby Bender stepped out of the shadows. Mulder sighed. Shit! He
was not in the mood to be hit on right now. He rose to his feet.

"Mr. Bender, I'm afraid I'm not very good company at the moment."

"I know, Fox. I just needed to talk to you. You're right, you
know. My Carl is involved with that terrible cigarette smoking
man. He came to our house once and I had to have the maid air
everything after he left. I'm afraid for my lover, Agent Mulder.
When I heard your questions, I knew I could confide in you."

Mulder nodded his head, encouraging him to go on.

"I think they are doing something terribly evil and immoral. My
lover was very upset about it at first but then when everything
started going so well . . . he just . . . he just pretended that
it was. . . he needs your help, Agent Mulder. Carl isn't like
that. He's a kind and gentle man, I know this is tearing him up.
His brother, Floyd would do anything to advance his work but not
my Carl. Floyd is the one who invited Dr. Stines to join the
research team."

"Dr. Stines?"

"Yes. Dr. Franklin J. Stines. He is supposedly the best
Reconstructive Surgeon in the world. But . . . well, I just don't
like him. He's . .. he's well, he's just spooky."

Mulder frowned at him, "Spooky people have many redeeming
qualities, Mr. Bender. Why don't you just tell me everything you
know? I'll help you if at all possible."

"I know Dr. Stines is responsible for all of this. When he joined
the research team I could tell an immediate difference in my
precious Carl. I don't know what they are doing or how they are
making those amazing artificial limbs but I . . . I just . . . "

He suddenly threw himself into Mulder's arms, sobbing daintily,
his head resting on the agent's Armani clad shoulder.

Mulder tried to gently push him away, "There, there, Mr. Bender,
everything will be fine. I'll help you and . . . "

He heard a throat clear behind him, "Am I interrupting something,
Sweet Boy? Are you going to ask him to have sex with you?"

Jeez! Leave it to the vampire to think of a stupid thing like
that. "Oh course, I'm not going to ask for sex."

"Sex?" Toby backed up still holding the agent by his upper arms
and looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, "Is that . . . is that
usually your payment for helping people in distress, Agent
Mulder?"

"Sweet Boy, I am shocked. Did you demand that Agent Scully have
sex with you too?"

"Of course not, but I wanted it from the moment we met." Mulder
said dreamily.

"Oh-h-h-h, Agent Mulder, I'll do anything for you." Toby's lashes
were fluttering again

"How romantic, Sweet Boy. What did you want most from Agent
Scully back then?"

Mulder smiled, "Just one kiss."

"Oh My Fox, your wish is my command." Toby Bender threw his arms
around the surprised agent, bent him backwards and locked their
lips together.

Mulder did not even have a chance to struggle before he felt a
familiar hand latch onto his arm and attempt to jerk him away
from Toby.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Wal . . . Walter?"

Mulder was tying desperately to extricate himself from Bender's
arms and figure out what the hell Skinner was doing there. When
the enamored Toby finally looked up from his struggles to retain
possession of his new conquest, he noticed the large scowling man
who was jerking on Mulder's left arm. He let go of the agent
quickly and started backing away.

"Well, Fox . . . I mean Agent Mulder. I will go for now but I
will certainly look you up later." He turned and hurried away.

"Why the hell were you kissing that man?"

"I..."

"Why are you in Massachusetts?"

"We . . . "

"Where is Dana?"

"She . . . "

"And why the hell were you kissing that man?"

"The vam . . . "

Skinner grabbed him and gave him a couple of hard shakes, "Why
the hell won't you answer my questions?"

"Gee Sir', I guess I just don't feel like talking tonight."

Skinner grabbed Mulder's lapels and pulled him in even closer,
nose to nose. "Why. Were. You. Kissing. That. Man?" He spit out
each individual word between gritted teeth.

"The vampire made me do it . . . Sir."

The DeWit Mansion Inn Lounge

Mulder gritted his teeth. He had spotted Scully sitting with a
group of people. Among them was the almighty Dr. Ramsey. Bastard.
Mulder caught his partner's eye and pulled her away from her
friends.

"Walter's here, Scully. He came home early and tracked us through
my credit card record.' Mulder rolled his eyes, "Seems our boss
has become quite the hacker. He said it only took him ten minutes
this time. He's also totally pissed off and he has another one of
those headaches."

"Oh? Well, I'll just go up and check on him. Are you coming up
with me, Mulder?"

"I'll wait here, Scully. Walter has been discussing' this case
with me for the last two hours. I think that's how he got the
headache."

"No doubt it was. Fine, I'll go check on him and then I'll be
right back. Wait for me Mulder."

Of course when she came back down, Mulder was no where to be
found.

The DeWit Mansion Inn Basement

Mulder sat tied to a chair, his head resting on his chest. A slow
trickle of blood ran down the side of his face from somewhere
under his hairline.

Mulder groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He looked around
carefully. He was in a lab. And a very well equipped one from the
looks of it. He shook his head to clear it, then winced with
pain. Oh yeah, hit on the head again. He and Vince had come down
here looking for . . . well, looking for this. A medical
laboratory. Oh Shit!

He looked around for the vampire. Fat chance he'd hang around
once they got caught. And of course, they got caught because of
Vince. Mulder had pulled his gun and the damned vampire had gone
completely hysterical. Mulder had been so preoccupied with trying
to alleviate Vince's fear and get him to quiet down, he didn't
even see his assailant before it was too late.

The agent carefully twisted his head around looking for the door.
He spotted a table with a sheet draped form lying on it. Oh Shit!
But he still couldn't turn far enough to see an exit. He had to
get out of here some how and quickly.

Then his heart sank as he heard the door slowly opening behind
him. "Agent Mulder, you're finally awake. How nice of you to
visit my humble little research facility."

Mulder waited until the speaker, a tall distinguished man in his
early fifties, had moved around into his line of vision. "And you
are, I presume, Dr. Stines?"

"Good guess! Excellent! But you may call me Dr. Frank, Fox . ..
all my friends do. My friends and my test subjects. By the way, I
do appreciate your volunteering like this."

"And just what am I volunteering for, Dr. Stines?"

The doctor moved over to the shrouded table and quickly pulled
back the sheet. Underneath lie a man. A very large man who had
obviously been in some sort of horrific accident. From all
appearances, he had been literally torn apart and then rather
haphazardly put back together. He was so odd, he almost seemed to
be made of spare parts. He looked . . . Oh Shit!

"Is that . . . "

"Yes Fox. My creation. Dr. Frank Stines's most successful
experiment. Don't your see the irony in this? I was so
appropriately named. I have known since I was a child that I
would some day be one of the world's greatest doctors." He threw
his hands into the air, "Dr. Frank Stines, creator of life."

Mulder expected there to be a clap of thunder and a flash of
lightening but it didn't happen. Jeez! What a egomaniac. He
wondered if the real Dr. Frankenstein shared that rather annoying
trait?

"So you are funded by the Cigarette Smoking Man?" 





The doctor nodded and smiled.

"To create what? The ultimate soldier?"

"No." The doctor was still smiling. It made chills run up
Mulder's spine.

"A cold-blooded assassin?"

"Nope. Try again, Fox. I know you are a bright boy. Now think
hard."

Mulder gritted his teeth, "Just what kind of diabolical monster
are you creating here, Dr. Stines? Some heartless, blood thirsty
mutant meant to prey upon humanity and promote widespread terror
in an unsuspecting population? "

"Close! You're very close, My Boy." Dr. Stines puffed out his
chest and smiled coldly at his captive federal agent. "But think
worse than that, Fox, much worse. Much more frightening and much
more monetarily valuable, it's . . . " He turned,

"The world's first perfect," he pointed to his creation proudly,
"Tele-marketer!"

"Ah-h-h-h-h!" Mulder couldn't help the scream that tore from his
throat. This was fiendish! This madman was pure unadulterated
evil.

"Imagine it, Fox. An employee who never needs rest, who can make
calls twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He will bring a
fortune on the corporate black market. Every Fortune 500 company
will want at least a dozen, probably more, and they will pay
millions to get them."

"Stines, this is inhuman. This is the most heinous plot I have
ever encountered."

"Yes, Fox. Impressive, isn't it? This is why I needed you here.
You and your friends. From your Mr. Skinner I will take
intimidation and a tendency toward strong-armed tactics. Everyone
will be afraid to hang up on Harvey."

"Harvey?"

"Everyone needs a name, Fox. And besides that was my mother's
name."

"Your mother was named . . . Harvey?"

"Yes. She was a very strong woman, Fox. But enough of that for
now. >From your delicious Agent Scully I will take that
sanctimonious attitude. My creation will be sure he is always
right and never listen to anyone else's opinion. And never, ever,
under any circumstances, take no for an answer. >From Alex Krycek
. . . "

"Krycek! Alex Krycek is here?"

"Why yes, Agent Mulder. He came here to steal my research for
Mother Russia and to get a new arm, of course. From him I will
take a complete lack of conscience. My creation will not care if
it is dinner time or if a child is sick or if . . . "

"Where is he? I haven't seen him."

The doctor ran his hand down Mulder's smooth cheek. "You are also
very well named, my beautiful Fox. And you can be assured that
Alex knows that you are here. In fact, I think he has almost
decided to forget about the research and take you instead. Ah,
young love!"

Ew-w-w-w-w-w!

"And from your Dr. Ramsey . . . "

"He is not <my> Dr. Ramsey, you can have whatever you want from
him."

"That's very uncharitable, Fox. And after he has tried so hard to
guide you. But none the less, from him I will take his
intolerance of others. Harvey will not care how offensive he
becomes because he will always consider himself superior. No one
will be able to hurt his feelings because he will not have any."

"Yeah, that's Ramsey all right." He eyed the doctor suspiciously,
"And just what are you going to take from me?"

"From you?" The doctor laughed, "My dear Fox, you are merely
beautiful bait to lure the others here. Harvey does not need
disobedience, disrespect for authority, impulsiveness,
recklessness or a hot temper, thank you very much."

"Hey, I . . . "

"I had considered using that velvet voice of yours but then my
assistant . . . uh-h-h . . . dug up Elvis' from somewhere or
other. I didn't really want to ask. So you see . . . "

Suddenly lightening flashed in the room blinding Mulder
momentarily. He closed his eyes tightly hoping the sudden
explosion of light had not caused permanent cornea damage. When
he dared open them again, he was no longer strapped to the chair.
He was tied to a table.

He looked around slowly. What the hell had happened. He was no
longer in the sparkling clean laboratory. He now appeared to be
in a dank subterranean facility of some sort. The medical
equipment looked old and very outdated. What the hell?

The door creaked opened and in came the doctor. Oh Shit! He was
beginning to smell a vampire here. The doctor was dressed in a
long dirty lab coat and his eyes looked distinctly insane. And
worst of all, the doctor was now Gerald Ramsey. Oh Shit! Mulder
pulled ineffectually at his restraints.

"My Beautiful Fox, I have paid your father the agreed upon price
and now you belong to me."

"You paid . . . you paid my father for me? You . . . you bought
me?"

"Yes, Fox. William has many mouths to feed. He needs the money we
paid him for you. It will feed the rest of your family for the
whole winter. You are a bit older than my usual patients' but I
think you will do quite nicely." The doctor loosened the bindings
holding Mulder to the wooden table and the agent quickly
scrambled to his feet.

"Now take off your cloths, we need to get started."

Mulder backed toward the door, "St . . . started?"

"Well, what do you think, Sweet Boy?"

Mulder jerked around sharply, Ramsey was frozen in place and that
damned useless vampire was grinning at him proudly.

"What the hell are you doing, Vince?" Mulder hissed.

"It's my first fantasy, what do you think?"

"I think you're crazy. I was in the middle of a case, Vince.
Suddenly you're doing this shit! What are you thinking? This is
nuts! That mad doctor is after Scully and Skinner. I can't be
here. I have to stop him."

"It's the only way I knew to get you out of that basement without
your friends falling into the hands of that mad' doctor. He can't
do
thing until you get back. And besides that doctor is the last
living link to the original family. His great-great-great . . .
oh whatever, Aunt was the wife of the original builder. And down
through the years cousins married cousins frequently, which
explains . . . "

"Vince, stop babbling. Just get on with it."

"You have the patience of a rattlesnake, Sweet Boy. Is it any
wonder that doctor didn't want any of your traits for his perfect
man?" He ignored Mulder's scowl, "Anyway, If you can use my
fantasy to change the dark history of this house, I think you can
stop Dr. Stines' future work. And besides, this will be fun, My
Sweet Sold' Boy."

"Damn it, Vince! And need I mention that none of the other
vampires ever showed up to gloat about their questionable
accomplishment during one of these fiascos?" He jabbed a finger
in the vampire's chest. "You aren't supposed to be here."

"Cut me a little slack, Sweet Boy. It's my first."

A loud smack on the table beside him got Mulder's immediate
attention. He looked over to see a long switch had landed
fiercely on the scarred wooden table right next to him. Shit!

"I said undress, Boy. You'll feel my cane soon enough, no doubt.
No need to push me this soon."

Mulder quickly took off the odd clothing he was now wearing. He
threw the ragged and smelly garb aside thinking that someone
really should open a good dry-cleaning establishment here.

"Bend over my examination table, I want to be more familiar with
your body before we begin our experiments."

The door creaked open and Walter Skinner walked in. Well sort of
walked in. He seemed to have something wrong with one of his legs
and he was sort of . . . dragging it behind him. And he was
holding his body at a very odd angle. A hump! He had a hump!
Damned sex crazed, good for nothing Vampire. And the face!
Walter's beautiful face, now misshapen and disfigured. Oh God,
Walter, no! Mulder did, however, take some comfort in the fact
that his nose was now smaller than Walters.

"Ah, you finally decide join us, Sergei. This is our newest
addition, Fox. He is very beautiful isn't he?"

Walter grunted. Mulder took that as a yes. Skinner had always
told him that he thought he was good-looking. A pain in the ass
but a very attractive one.

"I think he will look even better with a few welts across his
pretty backside. Hold him down, Sergei."

Walter grabbed Mulder's hands and extended them above the agent's
head, clamping them to the wooden table, pulling him forward
until the rough edge of the table cut into his thighs. Oh Shit!
He looked up into Skinner's eyes, trying to break the spell and
get his help.

"Do you have him, Sergei?"

Another grunt which Dr. Ramsey seemed to interrupt as a yes also.
The cane swished through the air and landed with a white hot
lightening strike across Mulder's butt.

The agent bit down on his lip and choked back his scream. He had
heard that a caning hurt, now he knew for a fact that it was
true.

He heard the swish of the cane cutting the air and the lightening
struck once more. A moan escaped his lips. Shit! That hurt! He
looked up and caught Skinner's one good eye, and saw . . .
sympathy. Thank God, Skinner was still in there somewhere.

The cane struck again and Mulder sucked in his breath only to
expel it again almost immediately in a scream.

"That should do for a start, I think. Sergei, get the boy cleaned
up. He will be allowed to rest this night but tomorrow night he
will warm my bed."

Ew-w-w-w-w! Mulder certainly hoped the doctor took a good bath
before tomorrow. He wondered if he should suggest it but then
decided against the idea. Dr. Ramsey was none too stable to begin
with, even without the help of bumbling vampires and their sick
fantasies.

He felt Skinner lifting him up from the examination table. He
grunted twice, which Mulder took to mean, <Come with me, My Love,
I will make it all better.> Okay, so it was a stretch but Mulder
needed a little comfort here. His butt hurt badly.

After Walter had bathed him and rubbed some foul smelling
ointment into his burning behind, Mulder was lying quietly on
what he hoped was a bug-free bed. Sergei was making his way
around the dark room. Mulder wasn't sure what he was doing.
Wasn't really sure he wanted to know.

"Don't do that tonight, uh-h-h . . . Sergei, I need you."

Skinner eyed the beautiful man from across the room. "Grunt."
<Just what I needed, a spoiled brat to babysit.>

Skinner hobbled slowly over to the bed and Mulder held his arms
out to him.

"Grunt?' <Now what?>

"I want you. I need to feel your arms around me. Please, come to
bed with me now."

"Grunt?" <What the hell? Is this a dream? Did I nod off or
something?>

"Please, I need you."

"Grunt! Grunt!" <Holy Shit! I think I'm gonna' get lucky
tonight!>

Mulder shifted his body once more, he was having trouble getting
his arms around Skinner's hump. And, even more annoying, when he
tried to lay his head on the man's shoulder, it kept falling off
of the slant. He finally arrived at a solution by lying his head
on Skinner's stomach. He began to dig his way through the many
layers of tattered wool that covered the hunchback's body. He
finally made his way down to hard warm flesh and kissed Walter's
flat stomach lovingly.

"Grunt." <Lower, Kid.>

He trailed kisses down until he could take Skinner's erection
into his hot silken mouth.

"Grunt! Grunt! Grunt!" <Oh Baby! Oh Baby! Oh Baby!>

"Do you like this?" Mulder smiled up at him.

"Grunt!" <Just try stopping and you'll find out, Clueless Boy.>

Mulder was working his way over every inch of Skinner's body
using only his lips and tongue. He had reduced the hunchback to a
series of incoherent grunts. Well okay, none of Skinner's grunts
were really coherent right now but he already knew what the older
man liked.

"I want to feel you in me. Please, make love to me."

"Grunt!" <Did I win the Publisher's Clearing House, or what?>

Some time later, a very satisfied and astonished Skinner smoothed
his hand through the soft dark hair of the gorgeous man who lay
dozing on his stomach.

"That was great, Sergei," Mulder snuggled deeper into his lover's
body.

"Grunt." <I should probably buy him dinner or something.>

"I don't think I could make it here without you."

"Grunt." <I m not looking for a committed relationship, Kid.>

"I love you." Mulder whispered.

"Grunt!" <Well Shit! Now I'm gonna' have to protect him from
Ramsey.>

Next Morning Laboratory of the Evil Dr. Ramsey

"Was he good for you, Sergei?"

"Grunt." <Was he ever!>

"Well today, we will see if he possesses any useful skills or
talent."

"Grunt." <I can personally guarantee that he has useful skills
and talent.>

Ramsey ruffled Mulder's hair. "Good boy. You are wise to not give
us any trouble." Mulder jerked his head away. He had not been
allowed to dress and it was cold in this damned cave of a room.

"You'd better change your attitude, Boy. I enjoy using my cane on
troublesome young men. Especially ones who look like you. Now get
up on the table and spread your legs."

"No!"

Mulder turned and made a run for the door. The cane caught him
across the shoulders before he had gotten more than three steps.
The pain ran down his spine and up into his head. He dropped to
his knees. The cane came down again in a breath taking stoke
across his back. He tried to rise, to run, to get out of there,
away from Ramsey. The cane struck again, this time across his
already sore buttocks. Mulder screamed and curled up on the
floor. He could hear Ramsey laughing like the madman he was.

"Grunt!" <Shit! I haven't even had my coffee yet..>

Skinner grabbed the enraged doctor and tore the cane from his
hands.

"What are you doing, Sergei? Have you lost what little mind you
have? Give that back to me. This boy needs a firm hand."

The hunchback looked down at the sobbing Mulder.

"Grunt." <Yeah, he does. But not yours.>

Skinner broke the cane over his knee.

The door of the laboratory opened with a grating squeal, making
everyone cringe. When Mulder looked up, he was amazed to see .. .
Walter Skinner. A beautiful, whole Walter Skinner. He looked over
at the man the doctor called Sergei. Yep, Walter Skinner too.
What the hell?

"Dr. Ramsey, what is going on in here?" Walter sounded his usual
cranky self.

"It's the new boy we purchased from William Mulder, Sir. He is in
need of strict discipline and your brother has taken an unnatural
liking to him."

Skinner turned to the hunchback, "Is this true Sergei? Do you
want this boy."

"Grunt!" <Yeah, and twice on Sunday.>

Walter walked over and helped Mulder to his feet. He lifted his
chin and examined his face, then walked slowly around him.

"Yes, I can see why you like him, Sergei. We will take him
upstairs. He will make a good addition to our staff. I'm sure
Dana will be quite pleased with his appearance. Of course, he may
visit you anytime you like, Sergei. And Dr. Ramsey, you will not
use this one for your experiments, do you understand?"

"But, Sir . . . "

"No more discussion, Ramsey. There are lots of boys on the street
who are not this pretty and who will not be missed. Go find one.
Sergei, bring this one upstairs immediately."

Walter watched with interest as his deformed brother held the
trembling man in his arms. What was even more amazing to Walter
was how the beautiful man clung to the hunchback for dear life.
Strange, very strange indeed.





One Day Later Skinner Mansion

"How dare you?"

Mulder looked into the eyes of a furious Walter Skinner.

Mulder had been sent to the market that morning and had taken the
opportunity to do a little investigating into the activities
taking place at the Skinner Mansion. Just like modern times, the
perfect place to get information was from the people who worked
there. The grapevine was an ageless informational tool.

He questioned Molly, the serving girl, who flirted with him
outrageously and then directed him to go see Stev, the coachman.
Stev, it seemed was responsible for taking the carriage out to
actually collect the volunteers' for Dr. Ramsey.

After a couple of hours, Mulder felt he had made some real
headway. He was fairly certain that Dr. Ramsey was trying to
create a means to immortality for Walter Skinner and his
beautiful but evil wife, Dana. At least that is what the doctor
had told Walter. Mulder was not so sure that Ramsey did not have
his own agenda.

Mulder really wanted to talk to a few more of the servants but
realized that he would have to hurry to the market and complete
his errands or the Skinners would begin to question his
activities for the day. He did not want that.

In his haste to get to the village he bumped into none other than
Bill Scully, Jr., literally. Bill had grabbed him by the collar
and demanded his name and position. Then Bill, Jr. had summoned
his master, Walter Skinner, to deal with the pick pocket. Mulder
knew he was in big trouble. Even if he couldn't tell from
Walter's frown, the smirk on Bill's face would have given it all
away.

"Boy," Walter hissed shaking his recalcitrant servant, "you are
going to get a good dose of my strap tonight. And of course, Mr.
Scully, Sir, you may witness the punishment."

Oh Shit!

Mulder was thrown into a waiting carriage and driven in silence
to the large Skinner Mansion. As Skinner drug him in the front
door, a vision in lavender lace came down the stairs. Scully.
Mulder had learned in the short twenty-four hours he had been in
the Skinner House to avoid her. This Scully had wondering hands
and a serious BD/SM sexual preference. His Scully had turned into
a real perv, a dangerous one.

"Walter, what is it, Dear."

"It seems our new boy is a pick pocket, Dana My Love." He shook
Mulder like a dead kitten.

Scully reached up and pulled on a rope causing a bell to ring
further back in the house. Mulder heard something being drug down
the hallway and tried to clamber out of Skinner's grasp. He
breathed a sigh of relief when only Sergei came ambling around
the corner.

"Grunt?" <Now what? Can't this kid stay out of trouble for ten
minutes?>

"Sergei, Walter has caught our new servant trying to rob someone.
Please get him cleaned up and have him in the parlor in two
hours. We'll be ready for him then."

Skinner released Mulder into Sergei's iron grasp.

Mulder now sat at the large table in the kitchen. He glared at
Skinner's back. If the man really loved him like he appeared to
last night, he wouldn't let this happen. It was obvious that
Sergei was only using him for sex.

"You better eat Fox."

Mulder turned around to see a good-looking man slouching
arrogantly in the back doorway. "You are going to need your
strength later."

"Krycek, you Bastard." Mulder started to rise but was stopped by
Sergei's solid right hand on his shoulder.

"Grunt." <Give it a rest. I'm almost out of ointment.>

Alex smiled, "The Skinner's are not easy on pick pockets, Fox.
But you are a pretty one, so they may go easy on you. They
probably won't kill you or leave any permanent scars." Mulder's
face paled visibly. Krycek smiled wider.

"What are you doing here, Krycek?"

"I was their found boy' before you came along. Can't say I'm
sorry to lose the position. I think they will want to keep you
around for a long while. Do you like it here, Fox?"

"No."

"Too bad. The choice will be theirs, not yours. If they turn you
over to the local constable, well . . . they hang pick pockets,
Fox." Alex reached out and ran his hand through Mulder's soft
clean hair. Mulder tried to jerk away .

Mulder swallowed hard. Oh Shit! What had Vince gotten him into
this time? And could the inexperienced vampire be able to control
something like this.

All too soon, Mulder was escorted to the parlor. He was angry
with himself for trembling. He was sure Sergei could feel it
through the hand he kept on Mulder's shoulder.

"Bring him in, Sergei. We are ready for him."

Ready for him? Oh Shit!

Mulder was left standing in the middle of the room as Sergei
backed away to a shadowed corner. Scully sat on the couch looking
for all the world just like a fairy princess, dressed in a soft
yellow dress that spread out around her fetchingly. A deadly
fairy princess but still very beautiful.

But Walter! Walter looked like any criminal's <or FBI Agents'>
worst nightmare. Pacing across the rug and glaring at Mulder. He
held
large leather strap in his hand and was slapping it ominously
against his high leather boot.

"Take off your cloths, Boy."

It was then that Mulder noticed Bill Scully, Jr. leaning against
the fireplace, a brandy snifter in his hand and a self-satisfied
smile on his face. He seemed well pleased with this fortunate
opportunity.

"No, Sir. I don't want . . . "

Skinner glared harshly and grabbed Mulder by the front of his
shirt, "I don't care to hear about what you want, Boy. And you
will not refuse to obey me, my sweet wife or anyone else in this
house. The life you knew on the streets of Boston is finished,
Fox. Mrs. Skinner and I are quiet taken with your beauty. We have
decided to keep you here with us indefinitely. Whenever we choose
to punish you, which will be often, you will remove all of your
clothing and straightaway prepare yourself for chastisement.
There will be no arguments or discussions."

Skinner stared into Mulder's wide, shocked eyes, "And if we
should have guests in the room at the time," he indicated Bill
Scully, "that will be your misfortune. You will immediately strip
when told to do so and you will be punished until we think you
have received enough. Understood?"

Mulder was embarrassed to feel tears fill his eyes. He swiped at
them angrily. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? Walter was
always yelling at him, why did this hurt him so much? Maybe it
was the presence of Bill, Jr. and Sergei who still hovered in the
corner. Or maybe it was that Bastard, Krycek, who had slipped in
seemingly unnoticed.

He reviewed his options and found them all but non existent. He
quickly undressed and stood naked on the soft oriental rug.
Blushing furiously as everyone in the room looked him over. This
was so humiliating.

The front bell sounded and Krycek moved quickly to answer it. He
returned immediately with the town constable. None other than Tom
Colten. Mulder's chin hit his chest. This just could not get
worse.

"I heard you had a little trouble today, Sir." Colton moved
around so he could get a good view of Mulder who still stood
naked and dispirited in the center of the room.

Walter moved to shake the newcomer's hand, "Nothing we can't
handle, Officer Colton. Why don't you stay and see how young
hoodlums are handled in the Skinner home? I'll get you a brandy
to take off the chill."

"Come here, Fox." Scully patted her knee.

"Wh . . . what?" Mulder was dazed. Two of his worst enemies were
going to watch him get strapped. He wondered if Cigarette Smoking
Man was on his way, too.

"Come here, Dear. I am going to warm you up a little so you can
truly appreciate Walter's talented use of his strap. Come on, get
across my knee. Don't dawdle, Dear."

"But . . . but I . . . " This just could not be happening. Damned
vampire.

Mulder felt Walter's very familiar hand land on his shoulder. "Do
it, Boy. Don't make this go any worse for yourself."

Mulder walked over, dropped to his knees and lowered himself over
Scully's lap, resting his upper body on the couch. "Damned
vampire." he mumbled.

Something very hard slammed down on his right buttock, "What did
you say, Fox Dear?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all, Ma'am!'

"Good. Well keep it that way, Fox. My husband hates back talk.
Now I am going to give you fifty smacks with my grandmother's
hairbrush. I would let you count them but I don't think you have
the mental capacity to count that high. So, I'm afraid, you are
just going to have to . . . trust me."

Scully was ruthless with that brush. She covered every inch of
his butt then moved on to the backs of his thighs. When she was
satisfied with her work in that area, she moved back to his
blistered bottom. Mulder was almost positive that she delivered
many more than fifty strokes. So much for trusting Scully.

He managed to keep reasonably quiet during his ordeal. The
occasional male laugh he heard behind him helped to keep him
motivated in that direction. He knew there were tears running
down his cheeks and he tasted blood where he had bitten his lip
but all in all he had taken his punishment well. At least he
thought so.

Scully patted his red butt, "All right, Fox Dear. Now it is
Walter's turn. I'm sure you won't be able to stay so quiet under
his strap."

Mulder stood up on shaky legs. He hurt. He hurt badly. He really
needed to find some new friends. The vampires were right, Scully
and Skinner were dangerous.

"Over here, Boy." Skinner was indicating a large carved wooden
desk. Now with the top cleared by an overly enthusiastic Alex
Krycek. "Bend across the desk, you have a lesson to learn
tonight."

Mulder hesitated as he eyed the desk and the heavy strap in
Skinner's hand. He wasn't sure he could take too much of this
without breaking down and embarrassing himself.

"Would you like Mr. Krycek and Officer Colton to help you get
into position, Boy?"

Mulder moved quickly then. Bending across the desk with his sore
backside offered up for further punishment. He made himself a
promise. If he got out of this stupid fantasy alive, he was
resigning from the bureau. He was moving to Alaska, no make that
the Arctic Circle, some place where there was no Scully, no
Skinner and most important, no vampires.

He heard the strap cut the air and land with a breathtaking
stroke across his already abused backside. It felt like a red-hot
brand. He heard a whimper escape his lips and bite down hard. He
was not going to let Colton and Bill, Jr. to see him cry.

The next stroke landed with white-hot intensity. He heard someone
cry out and realized too late that it was him. He was lost. This
just hurt too much.

Skinner delivered twelve sizzling lashes with his heavy strap.
Each one earned fresh tears and cries of pain from Mulder. When
Walter finally lowered his strap, he had a twitching sobbing
young man across his desk. A lesson well learned. So far.

He allowed Mulder a few short moments to pull himself together,
then demanded that he stand and face the room.

"Very well done, Old Man." Bill Jr. slapped Skinner on the back.

"Yes," Colton chimed in, "I dare say the boy has learned a lesson
tonight. Such pretty tears."

Mulder rubbed his eyes angrily and glared at the men.

Skinner sighed sadly, "I was afraid of that. It seems it will
take more than one strapping to tame this young reprobate."

He handed the strap to Mulder, who looked at it in confusion.
"Since you wronged Mr. Scully, ask him to give you six more."

"No! No . . . I won't. I...I can't!"

Skinner grabbed Mulder chin, raising his tearful eyes to meet his
own, "Do it or I will give you two dozen more tonight and another
two dozen tomorrow, in front of the entire staff. Now ask him!"

Mulder stared at the extended strap and then into Skinner's cold
eyes. Shit, he meant every word. Mulder took the strap in his
hand. It felt heavy and still warm from contact with his body. He
walked over to Bill Scully, Jr. all too aware of all the eyes in
the room on his body. He held out the strap to Bill, blushing
furiously.

"Will . . . will you give me six more?" Mulder felt like he was
choking on the words.

Bill smiled, "Are you sure, Fox? Your backside must be very sore
by now?"

Mulder glanced back at a scowling Skinner. Shit! "Yeah, I'm
sure."

Bill took the strap, hefting its weight in his hand.

"Lean up against the fireplace and stick your butt right out here
where I can get to it. And stand still. You make me work too hard
and I may lose count and have to start over."

Mulder placed his hands against the cold stone fireplace and
leaned forward, his feet about eighteen inches behind him.

"Legs further apart."

Mulder did as he was told, his jaw twitching in irritation. He
was going to kill Vince at the same time that he killed Bill.
Only have to clean his gun once that way. Oh wait, have to use a
sharp stick on Vince. Must not forget that. Very important.

The strap struck from underneath, catching him with an upward
stroke right where he sat down and causing him to almost lose his
footing and tumble into the fireplace. He only had time to think,
Damn, that hurt' before the strap landed again, same spot. Shit!

Bill delivered all six of his allocated strokes in this same
manner. A heavy stroke coming from under and up, landing on the
lower curve of Mulder's seat. Bill Scully felt great satisfaction
that Mulder was sobbing and muttering incoherently at the end of
his six. Something about killing vampires or something. This kid
needed to be locked up but that was not his problem. He had done
his part to teach this little shit a much deserved lesson.

Walter moved over and placed a steading hand around Mulder's
waist. "Not quite through yet, Fox."

He handed the strap to Mulder, who looked at it fearfully. "Kiss
the strap and ask everyone here to forgive you for this unseemly
display that you caused tonight."

Mulder couldn't control the hiccuping sob that accompanied his
reaching for the strap. He raised it to his lips and almost
gagged from the smell of well oiled leather.

"Pl . . . please forgive me."

Mulder swayed on his feet. He was sure it was only a matter of
time before his knees buckled and he would be kissing the floor
at Walter's feet.

Walter tightened his hold around his waist, "Sergei, take him
upstairs, to my room."

"Grunt." <Not on your life, Big Brother. Find your own.>

Sergei drug a dazed Mulder out of the room but instead of turning
and going up the stairs to the master bedroom on the fourth
floor, he headed instead for his own rooms in the basement.

Mulder again lay on Sergei's bed while the gentle man rubbed
ointment into his abused skin.

"Guess I made your brother mad at me."

"Grunt." <Well, duh.>

"I need to find the truth, Sergei. I bet you know what's going on
down here."

"Grunt." <Sure I do, Kid. What's it worth to you?>

Mulder turned and looked over this shoulder, "I wish you could
tell me. I'm so sorry about this whole hunchback thing. That
vampire is such a . . . "

"Grunt." <Excuse me? Vampire?>

"Listen I would rather face a whole room full of aliens or even
that liver eating mutant again instead of seeing you like this.
It just breaks my heart."

"Grunt." <Why are all the cute ones either married or crazy?>

"But I promise you, when we get out of this I will do whatever
you tell me to do, no matter what."

"Grunt." <Careful, Kid. I can be one kinky dude.>

Mulder kissed the large protrusive lump over Skinners right eye,
"I love you." He moved to kiss the end of the huge bulbous nose,
"No matter how you look." He kissed Skinner's . . . well, where
Skinner's chin used to be, "Please, make love to me. I need you."

"Grunt." <It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!>

"Can you show me what that doctor is doing down in the basement?"

"Grunt." <Yeah right, I'd be more likely to show you to my
brother's room.>

Since Sergei was shaking his head wildly Mulder assumed that
meant no. He stuck his bottom lip out.

"Grunt." <Oh Damn, he's using the lip on me.>

"I really need some help here." Mulder threw in the puppy dog
face. Always a sure fire persuader when it came to Walter
Skinner.

Mulder watched the hunchback eye him. He poured on just a little
more pout, let the bottom lip quiver slightly, allowed one tear
to form in a hazel eye and collect in his dark lashes. Bingo!

"Grunt." <Damned Kid. No wonder everyone he meets wants to beat
him.>

The Village The Next Morning

Mulder stared at the brightly colored, but faded tent in front of
him. Fortune Teller? Sergei had brought him to a gypsy fortune
teller? He turned around with one eyebrow climbing, "This is
where I can get the answers I need?"

"Grunt." <Jeez Kid, get inside. I don't want my friends to see me
here.>

Mulder pulled back the heavy flap and started into the tent. Then
he noticed that Sergei was hanging back. "You not coming, Serg?"

"Grunt." <No. And don't even try that lip thing again.>

Mulder shrugged and entered the tent. It was even smaller than it
looked from the outside, the air was stale and ripe with the
smell of garlic. A crudely built table and two straight back
chairs took up most of the center space. A very large black man
took up what space was left.

"Uh-h-h-h, Sir, do you know where I can find the fortune teller?"

The man turned around, "Why right here, Mr. Mulder."

"Mr. X?"

"Yes, Mr. Mulder. Vince is doing me a favor."

"You know Vince?"

"Mr. X knows all, Agent Mulder. Now shall we get started. Take
off your cloths."

"What!'

"I said, take off your clothes. You owe me." X stuck his head out
of the tent, tuned his sign to closed' and tied the ends of the
tent flaps shut. "There, that should give me all the privacy I
need to deal with you."

"What did I ever do to you?"

"You got me killed."

"Well Jeez, hold a grudge why don't you."

"Agent Mulder, I have the information you need to solve this case
and get back where you belong. I suggest you do exactly as I say.
Now strip!"

Mulder stood naked and shivering in the center of the tent as Mr.
X walked around him. "I always thought you would look like this.
Nice, very nice. Vince was right."

"That would be a first," Mulder mumbled. X brought his right hand
down in a resounding slap to Mulder's backside. "Ouch!"

X grabbed Mulder's arm and steered him toward the table. He took
a seat in one of the chairs and forcefully pulled the agent
across his knees. Mulder struggled for all he was worth but X
soon had him pinned, right arm held firmly behind his back, knees
trapped by one of X's sturdy legs.

X rubbed his hand over the buttocks now turned up for his
attention. He liked the contrast of his dark hand against the
white skin. The tinge of pink in the shape of his hand print was
quite attractive too. He decided to increase that shade a little.

"Now Mr. Mulder, I am going administer the hiding I always longed
to give you. You may ask me anything you want to know pertaining
to the Skinner Mansion while I attend to your spanking. Now, ask
your first question."

X brought his hand down hard on the waiting bottom. He felt
Mulder jerk as he asked, "Whose body was found in that house?"

X's large hand slapped steadily at the pinkening backside over
his lap, "The bodies belonged to the mistress of the house, Dana
Scully and a very attractive young servant, now represented by
you, I believe."

Mulder squirmed and scrunched up his eyes. It was hard to think
with his backside on fire like this. "Why . . . why were they
killed?"

Mr. X continued his relentless pounding. Never missing a beat as
he spoke. "It seems the master of the house, Walter Skinner, fell
hard for the handsome young male servant causing his wife to go
into a fit of rage. She killed the boy." X saw a spot he had
neglected and proceeded to apply his hand there. "The boy, for
some unknown reason, was in love with Walter's hunchback brother,
Sergei. When Dana killed the boy, Sergei killed her. Walter was
so enraged by the loss of both his wife and the man he loved, he
killed his brother."

X stopped a moment to admire his work. Mulder was quite red and
blistered. Probably felt like it had been doused with kerosene
and then lite with a match. The agent had absolutely no idea how
many times Mr. X had dreamed of doing just this. If anyone
deserved a good tanning, it was Fox Mulder. X resumed his
relentless smacks.

"Why wasn't . . . Sergei's body found?"

"I don't know."

"What . . . happened to Wal . . . Walter?' Mulder gasped out. He
felt hot tears running down his face but refused to let X know
about them.

"He was hanged for the murders." X applied his stinging palm to
the tops of Mulder's thighs. Mulder struggled harder to get off
the man's lap but X was just too strong and had too good a hold
on him. Mulder gasped out his pain and suffering.

"And . . . the mad . . . doctor?"

X was really enjoying himself. This boy could take a lot of
punishment before he broke down. But break down her would. X
slapped harder, covering the area from the top of his hips to the
middle of his thighs over and over again. What a glorious shade
of red.

"He escaped to continue his research. After Walter was executed,
the doctor married Dana Skinner's sister and inherited the
Skinner Mansion. The doctor you know back in your own time is a
decedent of that union."

"When . . . did this . . . this happen." Mulder was in too much
pain to concentrate. He needed this to be over so he could think
straight.

"Tonight."

Mr. X applied a final volley of stinging blows to the now sobbing
agent and abruptly set him on his feet. Mulder swayed and would
surely have found himself on the ground had not Mr. X held him
upright. X patted his back as he held him against his broad
chest.

"Just calm down, it's all over now, Mulder. I know it hurts but
it hurt to be shot in your hallway too."

"I want . . . want you to know I really appreciate it that your
wrote that message in blood on my floor. Marita isn't a whole lot
of help but I guess she's better than nothing."

"Marita?"

"Yeah you know. at the United Nations. The Special Representative
to the Secretary General. You wrote SRSG.. Don't you remember?"

"I didn't mean to write SRSG. I was trying to write SHIT. It was
a message for you, You Little Shit."

"Oh."

"Yeah Oh', now get out of here before I decide to bend you over
this table and exact a little more personal revenge. It's what
Vince wants me to do, you know."

Mulder was still wiping tears from his eyes as he hurried out of
the tent to find Sergei.

Skinner Mansion One Hour Later

Sergei was once again rubbing soothing ointment into Mulder's
abused backside.

"Grunt." <I'm going to have to start buying this stuff in a
gallon bucket.>

"We've got to stop the murders tonight night, Serg. If we can
change what happens in this house, it will change history and
that evil doctor can't finish his fiendish creation." Mulder
looked over his shoulder, bottom lip trembling, "You are going to
help me, aren't you Serg?"

"Grunt." <Nope, not me. No way. I have to wash my hair.>

"Ple-e-e-ease?" Mulder batted his lashes and stuck his lip out
another fraction of an inch.

"Grunt." <Jeez, I wish he's stop that shit!>

"I think the best way is for me to put the moves on Scully. I
really hate to do that, she's had me cornered in every room of
this house. The woman is insatiable and a little too much into
bondage for my liking. I've really got to talk to her about that
when we get back. I don't mind rough sex but Scully is downright
dangerous."

"Grunt." <Give the boy a lollipop, he finally got a clue.>

"Okay, first we keep Scully from killing the kid . . . uh-h-h,
well, from killing me."

Dana's bedroom One Hour Later

"Oh Fox Darling, what a surprise. I thought you had been avoiding
me after that little incident with the harness and the raspberry
jam."

"Uh-h-h, no, but I really don't think raspberry jam should be put
. .. "

"What about our little morning ride in the forest, have you
forgiven me for that?"

"Well, yeah sure I have. But Scul . . . I mean Mistress Skinner,
I really do need to wear cloths when I ride and I prefer to sit
up in the saddle."

"I'm sorry, Darling, I just couldn't resist the view."

Dana sauntered up to him, hips swaying enticingly under soft
beige silk, "So what did you want to talk to me about, Fox
Darling?"

"Well I . . . it's just that . . . well, I wanted to tell you how
much I admire you . . . and how much I enjoy our time together."

Scully started clapping her hands as she ran for her trunk, "Oh
Fox, I'm so glad to hear you say that. I just got a new riding
crop and some wonderful leather cuffs. You will look just
adorable in them! I really thought I would have to trick you to .
. . "

Mulder looked at her in horror. "No, no wait. Riding crop! Please
Mistress, wouldn't you like to do something more romantic this
time. I don't know . . . something nice . . . maybe without the
whips and chains?"

She pinched his cheek, "You are just too cute. Of course we don't
have to use the chains." She turned around and hurried back to
her trunk from hell, "Now let me see, I know I have some lovely
rope in here somewhere." Mulder groaned.

Sergei's Basement Room Three Hours Later

Mulder hobbled into the sanctuary that was his lover's room.
Thank goodness that Sergei was in this house. Without him, Mulder
was not sure he would survive.

Sergei met him at the door with the pot of ointment.

"Grunt." <I see you've been playing Naughty Pony Boy' with the
Mistress again.>

"Well, that should take care of Scully. No way will she kill me
now, I promised to play Nurse Nancy and the Prostrate Patient'
with her tomorrow. Now for the good doctor."

Sergei enjoyed smoothing the ointment on nearly every inch of
Mulder's newly abused body, while the agent laid out his plan.

The Basement Laboratory Two Hours Later

"What are you doing here?"

Mulder smiled at the doctor. The smile he usually saved for
getting extra large portions out of waitresses and signed 302
forms out of Walter. "I wanted to see you, that's all. I've been
trying to sneak down here alone all week."

"Why? What do you want?" Ramsey eyed him warily.

Mulder looked around, then batted his lashes at the doctor. "This
is all so fascinating. What exactly are you working on, Dr.
Ramsey?"

"I'm . . . I'm creating" He pointed vaguely a the sheet-covered
body lying on his table, "the perfect chicken thief. The gypsies
will pay a fortune for him."

Mulder hid his grimace, "I see. That must be . . . very rewarding
work."

"Yes," the doctor was now flushed and shaking visibly, "Yes my
work is my whole life. Did you come down here to be part of my
experiments?"

Mulder walked closer and ran his hand seductively down the man's
arm. "Work-work-work. It that all you ever think about? I'd just
want to get to know you better." He looked into the doctor's eyes
and slowly ran his wet pink tongue over his lush bottom lip. "You
know . .
become friends . . . really close friends."

The doctor had him bent backwards over a table and in a lip lock
so quickly Mulder had not even had time to resist. Shit! Come on
Sergei, get down here. I've lost control of this and I'm about to
lose even more than that.

The door gave up it's customary creek as it slammed back against
the wall. Walter Skinner loomed in the entrance, with Sergei
right on his heels.

"Dr. Ramsey, what it the meaning of this?"

"He . . . he came down here and seduced me. It was all him. It
was all his fault!" He pointed a finger at Mulder who by this
time had managed to scrounge up a few tears and was looking at
Walter with wide innocent eyes.

"Fox, why are you here?"

"He sent word by Sergei that you were waiting for me here, so I
came as quickly as I could. I..." Mulder let another tear fall
and stuck out his quivering lip, "He . . . he tricked me. He
tried to . .. to .. . "

Walter had his arm around the distressed agent. "That's all
right, Fox, I know you aren't used to the ways of lecherous men
like the doctor." He smoothed Mulder's hair away from his face
before returning his attention to the doctor. He didn't catch
Sergei rolling his eyes.

"Dr. Ramsey, you will leave my home at once."

"But he . . . "

"Not another word about this innocent boy, you are no longer
welcome here. Now go." Walter turned to his trembling young
servant.

"Fox, would you like to come to my rooms. I can make you feel so
good. You'll forget all about this unfortunate incident."

"Could . . . could I just . . . just have a little time to pull
myself together. I could come up later, maybe bring that whipped
cream you like so much."

Now Walter was the one trembling. "Yes. Yes, that would be
wonderful, Fox. Come up as quickly as you can. I'll be waiting
for you."

Sergei's Basement Room 10 Minutes Later

"Sergei, we did it. Scully is pacified, the doctor is gone and
Walter is safely tucked away in his room waiting for a whip cream
bath." He grabbed the hunchback and danced around the room with
him. "We did it!"

He finally settled down enough to realize that Sergei wasn't
cooperating with him. "Serg, what's wrong. We did it, aren't you
happy?"

"Grunt." <I find out the man I love is a slut' and he wants me to
be happy.>

Sergei pointed to the scarred table in the middle of the room.
Mulder walked over there and was immediately strong armed over
it, face down. Wow, that Sergei was stronger than he looked, that
hump was deceiving.

"Sergei, what's wrong?" The hunchback pulled the agent's pants
down to just below his knees. "Oh I get it, the excitement got
the old adrenalin going." Sergei flipped his shirt up over his
back. "Can't we do this on the bed, it would be a whole lot more
comfortable and . . . " Mulder twisted around to look at his
lover and was amazed to see Sergei welding a thick leather strap.

"Grunt." <Your comfort isn't my primary concern right now.>

Sergei brought the razor strop down hard on the agent's bare
backside.

"Ouch! That hurts! Sergei what's wrong?"

"Grunt." <Whipped cream?>

"Ouch! Stop please, what did I do?"

"Grunt." <Raspberry Jam up your . . . >

"Oh-h-h-h, come on, Serg."

"Grunt." <Big eyes and pouty lips and a cherry red bottom. You
Unrepentant Flirt!>

"Ple-e-e-ease, Sergei, please stop."

"Grunt." <Why were you kissing that man?>

"Please no more. I can't take any more. Please."

"Answer me, Mulder, why were you kissing that man?"

"What!" Mulder's head snapped up just as Walter's strap snapped
down. "Ouch!"

"I'm not stopping until you tell me about that guy in the garden,
Mulder. And I do not want to hear anything about vampires." He
strap painted another angry stripe on Mulder's sore butt.

"Walter . . . please stop. Just stop and I'll tell you
everything. I will! I promise!"

"All right." Skinner let the strap fall to his side. "But stay in
position over that desk. I may not be done with your backside
just yet."

"Walter, I can't talk with my butt in the air." The strap snapped
down again."Ouch!"

"Your butt is fine just where it is. Now what were you doing in
my garden kissing a strange man?"

"His partner . . . lover . . . whatever, was one of the doctors
doing experiments to create the perfect telemarketer. He was
trying to tell me what he knew about it when that damned vampire
started doing that .. . that . . . that thing again. You know
where he says something, usually something stupid that I can't
ignore and then I say something and then people start hitting me.
Happens all the time. If I ever . .. Ouch!"

"You're babbling. Have you been in my Scotch again. You know you
can't drink. Normal people have a drink and relax. You have a
drink and start seeing vampires. Now did you want to kiss that
man?"

Mulder sighed, "No."

"Where did he come from?"

"He was with the convention."

"What convention?"

"The medical convention at the Inn."

"What Inn?! Mulder get up, I think the blood is leaving your
brain or something."

Mulder levered himself up and rubbed his aching backside. He
looked around. He was still at the mansion but it looked
different, more cared for. He quickly rearranged his clothing
before Walter could change his mind.

"Are we still at the mansion?"

Skinner eyed him with concern, "Yes, we came up here for the
weekend. You do remember driving up here don't you Mulder?"

"Uh-h-h-h . . . "

Walter laid his land on Mulder's shoulder and looked in his eyes,
"We drove up on Friday night right after work. This is the
Skinner Mansion right outside of Boston. It's been in my family
for six generations. You've spent time here before, Mulder."

"It isn't an Inn with an evil doctor in the basement?"

The AD lifted Mulder's chin so they were eye to eye, "Are you all
right?"

Mulder broke out in a wide grin, "Yeah! Yeah, I'm great. So this
house is yours. Been in your family for generations! That's
great! Wonderful! This just couldn't be better. No insane
doctors. No heinous telemarketer. No sadistic Scully."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. She is kind of angry with you
right now."

"Why? What did I do?"

"You were supposed to help her in the basement today. She really
wants to go through all that old junk down there this weekend.
You know Dana, she just loves to explore dusty old places."

Just then Scully came skidding into the room. "Walter, Mulder,
you have to come with me. Now! Come on! Hurry!"

"I'm still talking to Mulder. He hasn't explained about that man
yet."

"Walter, would you just forget about that. Didn't you get a good
look at his eyes, he was so far out in the Mulder-Zone' he
probably thought it was one of us kissing him. And besides, if
you don't want people kissing him, don't let him go out wearing
that speed-o. Now come on! You aren't going to believe what I
found!"

Skinner rolled his eyes, "Another grungy old antique, Dana? I
told you this old house is full of skeletons in every closet."

"You got that right, now come on."

Skinner House Basement

"It's a body! It was stuffed in that old trunk. Why would someone
dispose of a body in a trunk like that. I think it's at least two
hundred years old."

Mulder walked over and looked down at the misshapen skeleton
curled up in the trunk. He instantly fell to his knees beside it
and let his head drop dejectedly to the edge of the deteriorated
old trunk.

"Oh Serg," Mulder sobbed. He was inconsolable in his pain and
grief over the pitiful pile of twisted and petrified bones.

Mulder felt a very familiar arm go around him, "It's all right,
Sweet Boy, he went peacefully in his sleep at a very old age. And
he loved you until the day he died." Vince rubbed the distressed
agent's back soothingly. "It just wasn't deemed proper to entomb
someone like Sergei in the family crypt back then. He really
didn't mind this final resting place."

Mulder broke into a new wave of heart wrenching sobs.

Skinner eyed Scully over Mulder's head. "What the hell?"

"He's compassionate by nature, Sir."

Skinner studied his sobbing agent, "Yeah well, if he acts like
this over a two hundred-year-old corpse, what would he do if it
were someone he loved?"

The End Seven

THE END 2/3