"Good morning, Agent Scully. I have a package for you." Dana
Scully looked up from the computer with a faint smile and took the
parcel. The office boy smiled hopefully and said, "It checked out
okay and everything."
"Thank you, Brad," Scully murmured and went back to her work.
After a few moments of awkward silence and being totally ignored,
Brad drifted away. Scully continued typing until she came to a
good stopping point, then she pulled the package to the middle of
her desk.
It was about a foot square, covered in brown paper, and addressed
in block printing with her name and work address. She carefully
loosened the tape and removed the wrapping. Opening the
unmarked cardboard box, she found a round cookie tin with a
sealed envelope and a note on top. In the same block printing, the
note read, "Please give to Fox Mulder, ASAP."
"Mulder, could you come here a minute?"
Mulder looked up from his expense report and asked, "Got any
ideas on how to explain this lost flashlight?"
Scully slanted him an amused look and said, "I think you may have
to cover this one yourself. We were supposed to be doing
background checks, not tramping around the woods on wild
speculation."
"Yeah, but that could have been an alien." He shrugged, took
off his glasses, and mused, "Who knew raccoons were so
dexterous?"
"Wildlife biologists?"
"Besides them." Mulder cracked a half smile and said, "So what's
in the box?"
"See for yourself. It's apparently for you." She handed over the
open box. "It's not your birthday, so what's the occasion?"
"I don't know," shrugged Mulder, as he took out the red tin
container marked "Debby's Delights." He pried the top open and
the warm sweet smell of cookies drifted out to tease his nose. He
drew back the paper insert and saw neat stacks of small light
brown cookies sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon.
"Cookies? Who would send you cookies?" She took a sniff and
said, "Smells good. What kind are they?"
Mulder poked at one with a finger and cleared his throat. "They're
snickerdoodles."
"I haven't had those in years," said Scully with an avaricious gleam
in her blue eyes.
"Here, knock yourself out," muttered Mulder, as he shoved the box
at her. He kept the envelope and slit it open. He drew out a single
sheet of notepaper, turning his back to Scully before unfolding it.
In a spare elegant script were the words, "Think of me."
Mulder sighed and tucked the note into his shirt pocket. He picked
up the wrapping paper and inspected it. No return address, but
that was no surprise. D.C. postmark and overnight postage...now,
that was a surprise since Krycek was supposed to be out of town.
Mulder thought about it for a moment and decided Alex would have
had just enough time to send the package before leaving on
whatever nefarious secret mission he was on this time.
Thursday (Day 4)
"Another delivery for you, Agent Scully. Is it your birthday or
something?"
"No." Scully took the parcel and smiled. "Thanks, Brad."
"You're welcome, Agent Scully. Anything else I can do, you just let
me know," offered the office boy eagerly.
"I'll keep that in mind," replied Scully politely, then fixed him with a
penetrating stare until he blushed and backed away.
Scully wondered if this one was also for Mulder and debated
whether to open it. She finally decided that since it had her name
on it, the secret was hers to unveil. She saved the paper in case
Mulder wanted to inspect it later. She opened the unmarked
cardboard box and drew out a smaller box gift-wrapped in
discreetly patterned gold paper. There was a small card attached
that read, "Please deliver to Fox Mulder."
She weighed the box in her hand trying to guess its contents. She
was shaking it slightly next to her ear when Mulder walked up
silently behind her.
"Whatcha doing?" Mulder's voice made Scully jump guiltily.
She shoved the gift into his hand and said, "Ah, nothing. This just
came for you. So who is sending you these gifts?"
Mulder shrugged and unwrapped his latest treat. Another brief
note in the same handwriting as the first read, "Thought it was
time you moved beyond the Aqua Velva. This was so you. K." It
was a bottle of cologne—Calvin Klein's Contradiction. Mulder stared
at it for a moment and wondered for the hundredth time what
Krycek was up to. He surely had some ulterior motive for this little
seduction scenario he seemed to be playing out.
Scully took the bottle and tested it, murmuring, "Mmm, nice."
"Is it me?"
Scully sniffed again, considered for a moment, and said, "Fresh, a
little sweet... with just enough spice to keep it from being cloying.
I guess it could be you. So who did you say it was from?"
"I didn't." And he had no intention of doing so, if he could at all
avoid it.
"Do you know who sent the gifts?" Scully sounded as if she were
questioning a suspect, but her partner was resistant to such tactics.
Mulder shook his head noncommittally, and stuck the cologne in a
desk drawer. Looking at the outer wrapping paper, he noticed the
Baltimore postmark and that the block printing seemed just a bit
different from Monday's package. He pondered the differences for
a moment then went back to work.
"Mulder... Ah, never mind." Scully got back to her own work, but
Mulder wasn't fooled into thinking she had actually given up. He
knew a strategic retreat when he saw it, even in peripheral vision.
Tuesday (Day 8)
"Hello, Agent Mulder. Is Agent Scully in yet?" Brad looked around
the bullpen anxiously, clutching a packet to his chest.
Mulder's eyes zeroed in on the large padded envelope and his heart
began beating just a bit faster. He nodded at the office boy and
said, "If that's for Agent Scully, I'll take it and give it to her when
she gets in."
"Oh, no, I couldn't. It is for Agent Scully, so I must give it to her
personally," said the young man earnestly, smoothing his sandy
brown hair with an unsteady hand.
"It would be no trouble at all. I'm sure you're too busy to be
waiting around here. Why don't you just give it to me, and I'll
make sure she gets it," Mulder suggested solicitously.
Brad tightened his grip and shook his head just as Scully came up
behind him. At the sound of her clicking heels, he whirled around,
almost knocking her over. Grinning widely, he thrust the parcel at
her and said, "Another package, Agent Scully! Are you sure it's not
your birthday?"
"Quite sure. Thank you, Brad." She took the padded mailer,
glanced at the address, and smirked. She waited until the office
boy had walked away with a last adoring glance, then held it up to
Mulder and said, "I wonder what we have today."
She tore open the large envelope to find another "Give it to
Mulder" note and a flat box wrapped in silver paper. She handed it
all over to Mulder and waited for him to open his newest present.
Mulder looked at Scully, then looked at the box. He looked at the
lettering on the envelope, which was the same as the last with
another Baltimore postmark. He looked back at Scully, and then
looked at the box again.
"Come on, Mulder, open it."
With a twitch of his shoulders, he stripped off the silver paper and
opened the box. He cautiously drew back the delicate snow white
tissue paper to reveal a soft black leather glove folded in half. With
a questioning frown, he drew it out to discover that it was long
enough to reach the elbow. It was big enough to fit a man's
hand and forearm, and it was not alone. In the box was another
glove, this one of black velvet and also elbow length. The note
read, " Fox, I'll bet you know what to do with these. Think of me."
"As if I could do anything else. You make sure of that." Mulder
cursed under his breath and quickly stuffed the gloves into his coat
pocket. The note went into his breast pocket to later join its
literary brothers and the answering machine tape in the secret
compartment behind the agent's bathroom cabinet.
"Anything you want to tell me?"
The amusement in Scully's voice had the same effect as biting into
aluminum foil. He shot her a dark look and said, "No."
"Mulder, did you go out and get a social life without telling me? Or
are these tokens of esteem from a secret admirer?"
Mulder gave her his usual deadpan look and said, "Wow, would you
look at the time? I believe we have some poop to scoop, don't
we?"
"Yes, our flight for Idaho leaves in an hour, so we'd better get
going. But you're not off the hook."
Wednesday (Day 9)
It was late in the evening when Mulder walked into his apartment.
The trip had been mercifully short, if not particularly interesting.
He wasn't even as tired as travelling usually made him. He went
through his ritual of his checking phone and e-mail messages.
There wasn't anything that couldn't wait, so he took his overnight
bag to the bedroom. He tossed the dirty clothes in the general
direction of the laundry basket, then took the gloves out of the side
pocket where they had been carefully stored in tissue paper.
He sat down on the side of the bed and laid them out across his
lap. Brushing the gloves gently with just his fingertips, he shook
his head and wondered what was going on in Alex's head. Mulder
felt as if he were walking into spiderwebs. Each time he thought
he was free, another sticky tendril slipped across him, clinging
tenaciously until he doubted he'd ever get loose.
He picked up a glove and worked his fingers into it, pulling the
supple leather up his forearm. The fit was close without being
tight, almost as if it had been made to fit the specific dimensions of
Mulder's right arm.
He brushed his fingers over his face, the cool leather warming rapidly
against his flushed skin. The thin, resilient leather was unbearably
sensual as his hand swept across his lightly stubbled jaw to his mouth. He
brushed his open lips with a tentative finger, his tongue darting out for a
brief taste. He moaned and remembered the times he had fought with Krycek.
With a sigh, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, picturing Alex.
The leather jacket, the tight black gloves.
The phantom feel of another's hand enclosed in leather and
brushing his sensitized flesh made him painfully hard. His naked
left hand unbuttoned his shirt, then fumbled his fly open. He drew
his right hand down his chest, circling each nipple, then sweeping
across his belly. Spearing his fingers through the pubic hair to grip
the base of his cock, Mulder was struck by the unreality of it all.
The hand inside the leather ceased to be his. It became some
other. It became Alex's hand encased in the smooth soft glove
moving on his body, caressing his cock, and making his heart race.
It was all about Alex. The gloved hand working his erection, the
naked hand petting his belly and chest, the teeth cutting into his
bottom lip —all belonged to Alex in Mulder's mind. Alex's voice
called to him from the alarming vicinity of his heart as he stroked
himself to completion, lying across his bed in the silent dimness of
his room. Closing his eyes, he came in panting silence, then lay
there for several moments savoring the afterglow.
When he sat up, the neglected velvet glove slid off his lap, and he
caught it just before it hit the dusty floor. He removed the leather
glove and placed them both in the empty cookie tin on the
nightstand. He picked up the bottle of cologne, popped off the
cap, and inhaled deeply. Contradiction was "so him", hm? Mulder
was suddenly too tired to figure out what Krycek had meant by that
typically cryptic remark. And anyway, he still had the velvet glove
to play with after his shower.
Friday (Day 11)
Mulder took two steps into the bullpen, then almost turned around
and walked right out again. Brad was handing over another large
brown envelope and simpering at Scully. Now, is that anyway for
a grown man to act? thought Mulder with a mixture of pity and
contempt. Can't he see she's not interested and simpering surely
won't help his case?
He got to his desk in time to hear Scully gently turn down a rather
awkward request for a date. If poor Brad blushed any harder, his
face would catch on fire. Mulder shook his head at the resentful
look the spurned man shot his way. Oh, yeah, as if. Mulder
repressed a shudder. If you can melt her, buddy, you can have
her. I've got my hands full enough already with Alex. Oh, yeah,
I'd like to get my hands full of Alex...
"Mulder...Mulder!" Scully's hand on his arm shook him out of a
very nice daydream. She was staring at him with a worried frown.
Mulder tried to reassure her with a smile, but it felt a little stiff.
Not unlike something else as a result of my little foray into
fantasyland. He sat down quickly and scooted his chair up under
his desk, hoping he wouldn't have to stand for awhile.
"Are you all right? You looked like you were a million miles away,"
said Scully, in her soothing doctor tone.
"Not that far," replied Mulder blandly. He shuffled some papers
and fiddled with a pen, trying to look busy while his erection
subsided.
"Your secret admirer strikes again." She handed him the envelope
without even opening it this time.
"What now?" he muttered, ripping the envelope open to find a
distinctive white and pink striped box with gold hearts. It couldn't
be...
"Victoria's Secret, Mulder? Are you absolutely sure you don't
have something you want to tell me?" Scully grinned.
"NO!" Opening a drawer, he dropped the box in, then stared at it
as if it were a sleeping snake that could awaken at any moment.
He was aware of Scully's surprise and amusement, but he couldn't
look away. He wondered what was in the box, but he didn't want
to know.
He loosened the top and slipped his hand inside. Sifting through
layers of tissue paper, his fingers briefly brushed satin and lace
before finding the note and pulling it out. Turning slightly so Scully
wouldn't be able to see it, he unfolded the single sheet and read, "I
have a vivid imagination, Fox-don't-call-me-that. Do you? Wear
this and think of me. See you soon."
He closed his eyes and prayed for strength. He could resist. He
was strong, and he could resist the siren song of the unknown.
He was sure he could do it. He hoped so anyway.
In a moment of blinding clarity, Mulder looked at his personal life
and decided that Eddie Van Blundht-the-'h'-is-silent was right.
Mulder had considered it before, but self-preservation had
prevented him from really agreeing with a man who had to pretend
to be Luke Skywalker just to get a date. Now, he gave up the
struggle and admitted to himself that he was a loser. The bright
side was that, as Eddie had pointed out, he was a loser "by
choice." So he could choose not to be a loser, right?
So how would getting involved with Alex Krycek help him shake off
the bonds of loserdom? The man was, or had been, a Russian
traitor, a Syndicate assassin, and a free agent looking out for
number one...Mulder was unsure just what all Krycek was, but he
knew there was a long list of people who would like to kill the man.
If anything, Alex was even more messed up than Mulder. The
agent allowed himself to feel smug and superior just for a moment
then turned his mind back to the current problem.
How would getting tangled up with the incredibly lickable,
deliciously suckable, outrageously fuckable Alex Krycek keep him
from being so pathetic, that a guy born with a tail could pity
him? Mulder had no answer but decided it would be fun to find
out. And if he lived through the experience, so much the better.
Mulder glanced over at Scully, who seemed engrossed in her
paperwork, then quietly slid the drawer open and looked at his gift
again. He cursed Alex's choice of packaging. He couldn't have
chosen something a little less conspicuous, a little less well known?
No, of course not. Alex would have to pick something that
screamed "Mulder's a pervert!" with just a glimpse.
He ran his fingers over the top of the box, debating whether to
open it. Telling himself it could wait, he shut the drawer and got
back to work. He worked steadily for the next three hours,
thinking of the mysterious gift not more than a couple dozen times.
His rumbling stomach diverted his attention from a surveillance
transcript that was so boring it would have put a hyperactive three-
year-old to sleep. He rolled his chair back and stretched until his
bones popped.
"Hey, Scully want to go get some lunch?"
"Sorry, I can't. I'm meeting my mother...but you're welcome to
join us if you want."
"You couldn't talk about me then. Wouldn't that spoil your fun?"
"Oh, don't worry about that. I'd still talk about you."
"You make it sound so tempting, but I think I'll pass." Rising to
leave, he stuffed the incriminating Victoria's Secret box into the
innocuous brown envelope and took it with him. He figured he had
enough time to go home and leave the package, which he did
not want to open.
On the drive to his apartment, Mulder could feel the throbbing
presence of the gift on the car seat beside him. He refused to look
at it, but couldn't stop thinking about it. He told himself over and
over not to even consider opening it. It was from Victoria's
Secret for crying out loud. A gift of satin and lace from a ladies'
lingerie store could not be good. Krycek was apparently taunting
him in some twisted way, and Mulder was sure he didn't want to
know how or why.
As soon as Mulder walked into his apartment, he took the box out
of the envelope. He tossed the mailer on the table and turned the
box over in his hands a couple of times. Finally the suspense got
to him, and he tore the box open. Folding back the tissue paper,
he withdrew a leopard print garter belt. As garter belts went, it
seemed to be a top-of-the-line model, with silky black lace trim and
touches of metallic gold in the richly colored satin.
He held it for a moment, wondering what the hell he was supposed
to do now. Krycek couldn't honestly believe Mulder would actually
wear the thing, could he? Mulder took the undergarment to the
bathroom, intent on locking it away in his secret place along with
the other really incriminating stuff.
Stroking the smooth satin, Mulder admitted to himself that it did
feel nice. No, not nice...sensual. There was nothing nice about
leopard print, dangerous and sexy, yes! He held it up to his hips
and was not at all surprised that the thing looked like a perfect fit.
Alex seemed to have a very good eye for measurements. At least,
Mulder hoped it was a good eye and not that every centimeter of
his body was measured, quantified, and listed in a file somewhere
that Krycek could access. Deep inside him, he knew it was a futile
hope, but it gave him some measure of comfort.
Not quite believing what he was contemplating, he glanced at his
watch. If he grabbed something at a drive-through and ate at his
desk, he could get back to work almost on time. Shaking his head
at his own impulsiveness, he dropped his pants. He held up the
delicate garter belt in front of him again and realized it wouldn't fit
over his boxers. He went to his dresser and rifled through his
underwear drawer, finding nothing but boxers. He obviously
needed to do laundry, but now was not the time.
Mulder thought for a moment of just going without underwear, but
his suit was wool, and no perversion, however exciting, was worth
the discomfort. Finally he just pulled his boxers down and out of
the way. Locating the tiny hook on the elasticized back, he
wrapped the garter belt around his belly, twisting and tugging until
it lay smooth against his skin just above his hipbones. He
straightened the garters until they dangled through the legs of his
boxers to tickle the tops of his thighs. He pulled his shorts back to
the regulation position and moved for a better view in the dresser
mirror. Turning this way and that, he examined his reflection. The
belt itself wasn't really visible, but the garters danced freely against his
legs.
A glance at the clock made him jerk up his pants and run for the
door. He would have to drive fast and hope Scully didn't ask why
he was late.
"I'm not going to ask why you were late getting back from lunch,
Mulder. But I would like to know why you keep squirming in your
seat. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Mulder irritably brushed a lock of hair off his forehead,
wondering if he had time to get a haircut before Alex got back to
town. He mentally smacked himself for having such a thought, but
decided to stop by a barbershop on the way home.
"Uh huh, whatever." Scully shook her head at him and gave him
that look that said she was questioning his sanity.
Mulder wasn't about to tell her that he was having trouble with his
garters. The front ones tickled, and the back ones were bunching
under his ass. While Scully was his best friend in the world, there
were things she did not need to know about him. Most of those
things had the name Alex Krycek attached.
He could imagine Scully's horrified reaction if he found out he was
contemplating a physical relationship with Alex. He almost laughed
out loud because "contemplating a physical relationship" sounded
so intellectual when, in reality, he was fantasizing about fucking
Alex any way he could. There wasn't much intelligence involved in
the decision. It was mostly raw lust and some other emotions that
he preferred not to name. He was getting pretty good at avoidance and
denial in the interest of self-preservation. Skills he would most likely
need if he became wrapped around Krycek the way he wanted to be.
A quiet voice saying his name invaded Mulder's lusty thoughts and
he absently answered, "Yes, Alex?"
"Alex? Who's Alex?" Scully's amused perplexity made him sit up
straight and scramble for something believable to say.
"What do you mean? I didn't say 'Alex'."
"Yes, you did."
"No, I was thinking about something else and you surprised me,
that's all. I'm sure you misunderstood."
Scully gave him her don't-fuck-with-me-because-you'll-never-get-
away-with-it look, so he sighed and said, "All right, you caught me.
I was thinking about a new video I got yesterday, and I may have
said 'Alice' by mistake."
"There are porn stars named 'Alice'?"
"As in, 'in Wonderland'," made up Mulder on the spot. He was
mentally congratulating himself on his cleverness when Scully
shook her head.
"I don't think so, Mulder. It sounded like Alex-with-an-x to me, and
it sounded personal. Is this 'Alex' the person sending you the
gifts?"
Mulder pursed his lips slightly, but didn't reply.
"It is! So who is she...or is it a he?"
Mulder looked away determined not to give her any more
information.
Scully walked over to stand beside him, lowered her voice, and
said, "It's a man?"
Mulder looked up at her and was surprised to see only curiosity and
acceptance on her face. "You're not shocked or bothered that I
might be interested in a guy?"
"No, of course not. Who you get involved with is your business."
Scully laughed and added, "As long as it's not Alex Krycek, of
course! Are you going to tell me about him?"
"No!" Mulder smiled weakly and said, "Not yet, okay?"
"Whenever you're ready," his partner replied as they both got back
to work.
Mulder continued to squirm and daydream his way through the
afternoon, ignoring Scully's knowing glances. If she only knew the
real reason he was fidgety, she wouldn't be so understanding or
amused. Anxious to be alone, he was thrilled when quitting time
rolled around. He drove home, stopping only for a haircut and a
bottle of vodka.
The vodka sounded like a good idea after the stressful week he had
just had. While Mulder wasn't usually much of a drinker, he
thought he deserved to get good and drunk tonight. He wanted to
be in the right frame of mind to either accept his feelings for
Krycek or ignore them. Intoxication seemed to be the best way to
go.
When he got home, he went straight to the kitchen and filled a
glass with ice and vodka. After several sips, he went to his
bedroom and stripped down to his new lingerie. He traced his
fingers over the sleek satin, causing the garters to swing and bump
against his growing erection. He lightly skimmed one hand down
his cock, while the other continued to caress the satin and lace of
the belt.
The intrusive ring of the phone made him curse and pull his boxers
back on. His erection started to fade as he walked to the living
room, but the voice on the line made it stand right back up.
"What's up, Mulder? Thinking about me?" Alex's voice was
rougher than usual, but the hoarseness just added to the sensual
promise.
"Always." Mulder closed his eyes as he realized he had given in
way too easily. "You made sure of that with your little gifts, didn't
you?"
"Didn't want to test the old 'out of sight, out of mind' theory. Are
you wearing it?"
"The cologne? Sure, it's great, although I didn't realize you had a
problem with the way I smell."
"Now, don't be that way. You know what point I was making, Fox-
don't-call-me-that," chided Alex.
"I'm not sure I do. Why don't you spell it out for me?" Mulder
urged his caller to reveal something— anything—that would give a
clue as to what he was really up to.
"I wasn't talking about the cologne, and you know it. You're
wearing it right now, aren't you?"
"Why? What are you wearing?"
Alex laughed, low and dark. "A smile at the thought of what you're
wearing."
"You're a freak, aren't you, Krycek?"
"Come on, Snickerdoodle. You can call me by my first name."
"I'll call you Alex, if you agree not to call me Snickerdoodle."
Krycek sighed and complied, "Fine. And by the way, I don't think
you're qualified to be calling other people freaks, Spooky. Glass
houses and all that."
"Alex—"
"Do that again."
Mulder detected a faint tremor in Alex's voice that hadn't been
there before. "Do what again?"
"Say my name again. I'm imagining what you look like when you
say it."
"Alex," murmured Mulder.
"I can see you so clearly in my head. You're on the sofa right?"
Mulder was actually standing in the middle of the floor, but he
quickly moved over to sprawl on the sofa. He said, "Yeah, what
else do you see?"
"I see you in nothing but that garter belt. The tawny gold and black
of the leopard skin contrasts beautifully with your pale skin. You
look very hot."
"Alex." Mulder shucked off his boxers and said, "Go on."
"Your mouth is open slightly. Your very kissable, fuckable mouth is
open because your breathing is starting to get erratic. Those
mysterious hazel eyes are half-closed, pupils dilated with arousal. I
bet you're so hard right now..."
"So hard what?" panted Mulder, as he took his erection in one
hand, cursing the need to waste the other by holding the phone.
"So hard you come as soon as your cock is in my mouth. As soon
as I wrap my tongue around it, you're shooting down my throat. I
swallow every drop of your juice...would you do the same for
me...Fox?"
"Alex..." Stroking himself furiously, Mulder was incapable of
forming a full sentence. Tilting his head, he wedged the phone
between his ear and shoulder then dropped his free hand to his
balls.
"Would you do it, Fox? Would you suck me dry?"
Mulder was so close now, all he could do was mutter, "Alex, Alex"
over and over as his hands worked his body and his mind spun
fantasies of Krycek and himself sucking each other off.
"Mulder!" shouted Alex, and that brought the agent to a blazing
completion.
Mulder moaned and came hard into his hand. He lifted his messy
hand and rubbed it onto his belly above the garter belt, so he could
pretend for just a moment that Alex had come with him— on him.
The breathless voice in his ear said, "Mulder, you didn't answer
me."
"Yes, Alex. I believe I would." Mulder rubbed his sticky belly again
and said, "Yeah."
"You're kinda simpleminded in the afterglow aren't you? How come
I didn't notice that before?"
"Mmm, don't know. When are you coming home?" Mulder asked
the question vaguely with no real recognition of the implications.
"You mean D.C.? It won't be long. You'll know when I get there.
I gotta go, Fox-don't-call-me-that. Sweet dreams."
"Alex, wait—" said Mulder quickly, but the line was already dead.
He hung up the phone and went to the bathroom. He removed the
garter belt carefully so it would stay clean, then folded it and put it
with his other treasures in the secret compartment. Then he
cleaned himself up, put on clean shorts, and fixed a fresh drink.
The night was still young. Time enough to kick back, watch some
TV, and get inebriated. But now the drunk had a celebratory air
instead of a depressing one. He had something to look forward to— Alex was coming to him soon.
He giggled at his phrasing. If he had anything to say about it,
they'd both be coming soon. Together... in the same place... while
actually touching—and licking, biting, sucking, and fucking each
other. It was going to be beautiful, and Mulder couldn't wait.
While the Rat's Away
by Amy B
Monday (Day 1)
