The realization that he was falling in love with another man, a man he had just met,
hit Victor like a
ton of bricks.
How did this happen? Last Friday I'm in the Director's office, complaining about
having to babysit an
out of towner; thinking of ways to get back into her good books by Monday. And
now here I am, late
for an important meeting, in deeper shit then when I started out. FUCK!
Victor shook his head, unlocked the driver's side door to his truck and climbed
in. He took the long
way to work, delaying the inevitable for just a few moments more. He only wanted
a little more time
to be alone with Mulder, even if it was only in his mind.
While driving, all of his thoughts were all centered on he and Mulder. What they
had done, how
they had done it and the words of endearment that they had spoken to each other
afterwards.
Victor flushed with the memories.
When Mulder had whispered into his ear, 'I think I'm falling for you.' just the
very idea of Mulder
being crazy in lust with him, made Victor smile all over again. After LiAnne had
called of the
engagement, Victor had sunk into a blue funk. Their breakup left him feeling like
there was something
wrong with him, that he was unlovable and incapable of truly loving someone else
back.
Then Fox Mulder came along and everything changed.
Mulder had shown him that he was desirable, and worth loving. Fox had also
shown Victor, that
he was capable of reciprocating those emotions and able to feel deeply for someone
again.
Victor was no longer empty inside.
The mask he had been wearing to cover his true feelings had finally come off, he
had never felt so
comfortable... so complete before. It was difficult for Victor to admit to himself that
it had been a man
who had finally made him see what he had been missing in his life. And even harder
still for him to
admit that it was the very same man who had shown him the way that he had fallen
and fallen hard
for. Feeling like this was over a guy was not what he would have ever expected.
Victor had been denying and burying his emotions for so long that he himself didn't
even know the full
extent of them.
Victor had always assumed that he would marry and father children, and that
carnal love didn't
necessarily have to be part of the package. After all he had been able to perform for
LiAnne when it
was required. In fact, Victor was used to not getting what he wanted. Suppressing
his desires and
going through life feeling numb had became a habit, a habit that Fox Mulder had
helped to break him
of.
As these thoughts and many like them, meandered through Victor's brain, he
was disappointed to
see that even though he had taken the long way around, he still arrived at work, far
too soon for his
own liking.
Five hours late, but nevertheless, still at his work.
Well, may as well go in and get it over with.
His partners would no doubt be furious with him. At the agency it was an all for
one and one for all
mentality. Translation: when one person was in trouble they all caught shit. Victor
hoped that the
Director had been merciful and sent the two home already. He hated to think that
they had been
trapped in the quiet office with her all this time. Of course, the Director liked to
punish her agents
every now and again, so it would not be a big stretch to find out that they had been
forced to wait for
Victor to arrive.
Like a man meeting his final hour, Victor walked down the long, deserted hall
way and rounded the
corner to the meeting room. At the glass doors, he paused just long enough to reign
in his thoughts
of the weekend. Then, swallowing hard, he pushed open the door.
And there she was, the Director, just sitting there placidly in her large black
leather chair, awaiting
his arrival. Just a black widow spider lying in wait for a fly to cross her path.
For his part, Victor remained just as calm as his boss. His face was a perfect mask
of control, none
of the turbulence that he felt in his stomach showed on the surface at all. He did not
smile, but said
with a cheeky wit, "Am I late?" Not the smartest one liner he had ever come up
with, but bold
considering the Director wanted to cut his balls off and feed them to her tank of
piranhas that she
kept at her apartment.
The Director, still sitting at her desk stood up, pointed her finger at Victor and
said calmly, "You got
some nerve you asshole. I told you to be here at ten this morning. And before you
ask, I took pity on
your partners, who, even though they flew out in the middle of the night...
managed to be here on
time to brief me. Them, I sent home. Now where the hell were you?"
"I got hung up trying to finish the profile, that Mulder guy was kinda flaky." Lied
Victor evenly, "He
made it really hard for me to work." Another half truth. The Director was way too
calm and Victor was
starting to grow suspicious.
The Director stepped out from around her desk and picked up a small remote
control. "Hand over
the profile Mansfield." She instructed.
Victor tossed the sealed envelope containing the documents that he and Fox had
worked on, onto
the large table that had three empty chairs around it. While the Director aimed her
remote at a small
video player nestled in the wall of her office.
"Sit." Victor pulled out a leather chair and dropped himself into it. Waiting to
see what the catch
was. He knew that The Director wouldn't let his missed meeting just slide by.
Something was up all
right, trained agent that he was; he could feel it in his bones.
"Watch the screen." Was all the Director would say. Then she pushed the play
button and waited
patiently for the fallout.
Victor watched the screen as it slowly faded in from black. The footage looked
like surveillance
video of someone's bedroom. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. The
camera focused in
closer on its targets; two men in a large bed, who were engaged in intimate
relations. Anal sex to be
exact.
The two men were Fox Mulder and Victor Mansfield. Recognition dawned on the
agent's face.
OH SHIT !, he thought, then, It's us. THAT BITCH!
The Director pushed the pause button and the frame freezing on the two men
spooned together in
the after glow of orgasm. She turned and faced Victor, the horror of being taped
written all over his
handsome face. "Now correct me if I'm wrong," she laid her left pointer finger on
her cheek, "...but
that is the FBI agent Fox Mulder with his dick up your ass. Is it not?" The Director
smiled and raised
her eyebrows, "Hmm. ?"
The shock finally wore off of Victor and he stood up angrily, knocking the chair
that he had been
sitting in backwards, away from himself. He had never been more furious in his
whole life. This was it,
he'd had it with the Director and the whole agency. He was not going to put up with
this type of shit
from her anymore.
"How dare you?!" He roared at his superior. "You've got no right coming into
my place and spying
on me!"
"Oh I have every right and don't you ever forget it!" She flung back at him, finally
letting her own
rage to surface.
"You have no rights. I pay for that place on my own. With my own money!
Earned dodging bullets
for you every fucking single day I'm on the job!" His outrage clearly taking over,
Victor was not about
to back down from this one. "What I do or don't do in MY house is MY business. I
am not one of your
lap dogs, freeloading the rent and the bills." He took a deep breath and continued,
still every bit as
pissed off, but no longer shouting. "I'm a big boy, I pay my own way." Victor stared
into the Director's
eyes, the icy depths of green cutting right through her. "I quit." He said quietly.
There. It needed saying and he had said it. That was easier than he thought it
would be.
The Director, with an astonished look on her face stammered, "You what?" She
couldn't believe her
own ears.
"You heard me." Answered Victor, "I quit. This organization sucks, and so do you
for that matter.
Who the hell are you to do this to me? What did you think? That I would let you
hold this little movie
of yours over my head? Well don't hold your breath, because you'll turn blue. I'm
'outta here. Show it
at the next briefing, for all I care."
The truth was Victor did care, there was no way in heaven that he wanted
anybody else to see
that tape. Especially Mac and LiAnne, but Victor had no control over anything the
Director said or did
anyway. All he could do was control his own fate and actions. Quitting seemed the
best way to
assure that no one would see his first starring role in an agency production. After all,
once he was
gone, who would care? His partners would only start again with a new member for
the team, be it
female or male. Victor continued to glare at the Director, the look on her face was
priceless.
She couldn't believe that one of her agents actually had the 'cojones' to talk to
her that way.
Victor turned his back on her and began walking away. He was already thinking
about what he
would do next to put food on his table and had managed to get about half way to
the doors before
he heard it, the tell tale click of a gun being cocked. Victor froze then slowly turned
around, making no
move for his own weapon. "What?" He said sarcastically. "First you violate me and
now you won't
allow me the dignity of leaving on my own terms?"
The Director had indeed pulled her own firearm, and she was deadly serious.
Enough was
enough, she had allowed Victor to vent, but she was tired of his attitude, and
quitting was out of the
question. Mansfield was a dreamer if he thought otherwise. The Director's
outstretched arm holding
the large gun did not waver or shake in the least, her aim dead on. An invisible bulls
eye painted over
Victor's heart, the target. "Sit down." She instructed coldly.
Victor walked slowly back to the table, picked up the chair that he had knocked
over and sat in it.
What's that phrase? Oh yeah, Resistance is futile.
"Now are you calm?" The Director asked, Victor only nodded his head. "Good,
because you know
there is no way you can quit. So get that idea out of your pretty little head right
now. Besides, you
don't really want to quit, everything's such a goddamned principle to you Victor."
The Director sounded more exasperated than angry. "Now. I promise you that I
won't show that tape
to any one. But I need to remind you of the ground rules first,..." She walked to the
table and glared
right back at Victor, not afraid of him in the least, "...The next time you go renegade
on me, or lie to
me or balk at any job I see fit to give you, I won't show this movie of mine to any
one up here. Nooo,
I'll ship it first class to the J. Edgar Hoover building. To the care of one A.D. Skinner.
Lover boy's boss.
You know how homophobic that organization is? I'll tell you how bad they are, it's
not; Don't tell and
we won't ask. But; don't do it at all or your gone. Let me tell you Mr. Mansfield, the
minute they get
one look at that tape of you and your friend, he will be out on his ass so fast he
won't even have the
time to ask about his pension plan."
She had won by hitting Victor where it would hurt him the most; threatening
Mulder. The Director
knew that Victor could not be bested by simply showing him a little bit of erotica
that he had made.
No, she had to go for the jugular, and that meant going after Fox Mulder. She knew
that the FBI
agent would come in handy. Mulder was Victor's Achilles heel, and thank the
goddess for it. The
Director looked at Victor, waiting to hear what he had to say to her very real threat.
Victor looked sideways, knowing that he couldn't hurt Mulder that way. No help
for it then. He
swallowed his pride and said flatly, "Okay. You win. What do you want from me?"
"Like I said,... " She said in an obnoxious, gloating manner. "All I want is for you
to behave your
self from now on. No more arguing with me. No more fucking up evidence. Just do
your job, do it right
and get it into you thick skull that I'm the boss around here. You cannot win when it
comes to being in
a contest with me. The sooner you realize that Victor, the easier your job will be.
Christ almighty, Mac
and LiAnne clued into that ages ago. You're so stubborn." She laughed humorously.
Defeated, Victor looked up from the spot that he had been staring at on the table
top, "Anything
else?" he mumbled.
"No, leave the profile with me and I'll read it later. Go home now and be here
tomorrow at 9:00
A.M. sharp. Looks like you three might be needed in this homeless murder thing
after all. Oh yeah,...."
she added, "I took all the bugs and cameras out after the two of you went out on the
town Saturday
night. There's nothing left in your apartment."
Victor stood, taking his cue to leave. "Thanks, but don't do me any favor's eh."
He turned around
and started to walk away. Thinking as he went, how he was going to have to phone
Mulder and let
him in on what was going on. Victor pushed open the doors and started down the
long lonely hall, to
go home.
The Director watched her agent's retreating back. Naive` fool that he was,
believed her. She had
been lying when she said that no one else would see the tape. Dobrinsky had seen it
all already.
Though he was not very happy about it. The Director felt absolutely no guilt about
filming or lying to
Victor, that was why she made such a good director for the agency.
Victor pulled into his parking space and shut the truck off. He sat in silence for a
few minutes,
staring into space, before he finally got out of the vehicle and locked the doors
behind himself. He had
originally planned on going up stairs immediately and phoning Mac to see how
things went in
Greenland. Touching base with his partners was his ritual. But he had heard his
stomach grumble and
realized that he had not eaten a bite since breakfast, and that meal consisted of
swallowing down
Mulder's cock chased by a piece of dry toast to combat the hangover. Victor walked
out of the
underground parking lot and went up to the street. He turned right and headed
straight for the little
pizza joint he favored. Once inside he ordered a small pepperoni and mushroom on
a thin crust.
The proprietor informed Victor that it would be a thirty minute wait for the take
out. "Sorry." He
said to his regular customer.
"No problem, I'll come back for it in a bit." Victor left the small restaurant and
walked to the local
park, where he sat on a lonely bench, far away from everything and everybody
else. The location
reflected his mood; lonely and desolate. He needed to be by himself.
Looking up at the stars into the night sky he thought of Mulder. They had sat
together on the very
same bench only two nights ago and gazed up into the very same horizon,
speculating on the
probabilities that life may be out there. Lost in deep thought, Victor never even
heard the intruder
approach, but he did freeze when he caught the click of a switch blade and felt its
sharp point digging
in at the soft flesh of his throat.
"Don't move, or I'll drop you here and now." Whispered a husky male voice. The
man's breath
stank of cigarettes and beer. Victor's stomach turned over at the smell.
Thinking that he was in the process of being mugged, Victor questioned, "What
do you want? My
wallet?" He pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket.
The assailant, still holding the knife, whispered angrily into Victor's ear, "I told
you not to move!"
Victor saw the man's other hand come around to the front of his face, and in it
was a small aerosol
can. He tried to grab at the hand with the knife and at the other hand holding what
Victor thought
was pepper spray at the same time. But the move was in vain. The man sprayed him
directly in the
face, before the agent could truly defend himself. He struggled for a few seconds
then the night sky
went from blurry to completely black, rendering Victor unconscious and helpless.
Victor woke very slowly, his brain a mass of confusion, had left him not
fully understanding exactly where he was or what was going on. He remembered
that a stranger had tried to rob him in the small park near his apartment but
that was it.
No. That's not right.
He had only thought that the man was trying to rob him. But the
assailant, did not go for his money but had instead, sprayed him in the face
with something powerful and noxious when he tried to fight him off.
No wonder I'm laying here feeling like shit.! As Victor spoke to
himself, the fog in his brain slowly began to lift.
The agent's carefully honed survival instincts told him to lay still and feign
sleep; his body obeyed the silent command. He knew by the warmth of the air
that he was somewhere indoors, exactly where remained to be seen. Victor could
also tell by the rough material against his back that he was shirtless. The
chill of his feet made him aware that they were bare as well. And once he
concentrated hard enough, Victor could also feel a cold metal bracelet around
his left ankle The weight of the jeans against his thighs let him know that—to his relief—his pants were, at least, still on.
Where are the rest of my clothes? And why am I cuffed and to what? Why
was I snatched in the first place?
Victor didn't know the answers to these questions yet, but he planned on
finding out one way or another. The idea that maybe the Director had set him
up passed briefly through his mind.
Maybe teach 'bad boy' Vic a lesson or two.
But going this far? No. Even this was too much for her. He knew that
The Director liked biting into your jugular and sucking the life right out of
you. But she took her pleasure in letting you know that it was her who was
doing it.
No, this must be some other perp He thought for lack of a better word.
Maybe an old enemy?
As the numerous possibilities of who it could be ran though his brain, Victor
became aware of something else; the need to urinate.
Before he actually woke up, Victor stopped his breathing so he
could listen for sounds of another person in the room with him. Nothing. It
was quiet, way too quiet. In fact, Victor couldn't hear a single noise. No
passing traffic, honking horns or sirens wailing at all; no sounds associated
with the city. But then if he was being held in the country side, why couldn't
he hear the usual noises associated with mother nature, like frogs croaking or
birds calling out? Most likely, he deduced, he was still in the city. Stashed
away some place quiet, locked up in some sort of jail cell or isolation room.
He cracked his eyelids slightly, but all he could make out was a grey wall.
No help for it then, I have to open up my eyes to see where I am.
Victor's lids fluttered then opened up, the minute he did that, the ceiling
immediately began to spin in circles. He slammed his lids shut and waited for
the spinning to stop. When it finally did, he sat up slowly. Though the room
was no longer whirling, Victor still felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The
dizziness he was experiencing was worse than he'd ever felt before.
Oh, God. I'm gonna be sick.
Victor didn't fancy the idea of puking, so he tried breathing deeply
through his nose, but the effort was in vain. His stomach kept churning, over
and over again. Unable to hold back his gorge, Victor leaned to his right and
dry-heaved onto the cold cement floor. He had not eaten in well over twelve
hours. So there was nothing in his tender stomach to give, except bile, and up
it came, leaving its foul taste behind. When Victor was done retching, he
worked up a mouthful of saliva and spat it on the floor, adding it to the
bluish tinged bile. He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and chin;
noticing that his chest and forehead were sweating. Caused by the after
effects of being gassed he supposed.
Victor looked all around the room for a toilet, an saw that there was
none. In fact there was no sink or window either. The tiny room was composed
of four, all grey concrete brick walls with only one door leading in or out of
the small cell. The single door looked like any other door that you would see
in the front of a suburban home. Right down to the peephole in the centre.
But the peephole in this door was meant to look in at him, not he out. Victor
bent over and peeked under the narrow cot that he was sitting on and was
pleased to find a large metal bucket that had no handle. Pulling out the
bucket he contemplated how he was going to manage the feat.
The other, free half of the hand cuff that was around his ankle was
locked to about two feet of chain, that was in turn, welded to a large metal
eye cemented into the wall. Victor gave it an experimental tug, but the chain
was firmly attached. There would be no pulling it out of the wall. He quit
entertaining plans of escape for the moment and scooted to the foot of the cot;
having just enough play in the chain to hang his imprisoned limb over the end.
He placed the bucket on the floor accordingly and took aim, sighing at his
release. When he was done, Victor shook, buttoned up and pushed the bucket
back under the foot of the bed.
The notion of liberating himself back on his mind now.
But how?
Relieved that his hands were unbound, Victor felt around the mattress
hoping to feel a loose bed spring to straighten out and pick the lock with. To
his disappointment the bed was stuffed with some sort of hardened foam
chips.
Okay,... he reasoned, A piece of metal from the bed frame
No such luck there either, the frame was made of wood, not even a stiff
splinter could be gleaned from it's smoothly sanded surface. As a last resort,
he went through the pockets on his jeans, hoping to come up any thing. Even
the silver foil wrapper from his favorite chewing gum might help. But he was
plain out of luck. His pockets had been cleaned out by whom ever it was who
had taken him. And who ever that person was, they had been very thorough.
Victor could find nothing that could be culled from his immediate surroundings.
As he sat there musing a fresh wave of dizziness hit him, so he flopped over
back down on the bed in frustration, waiting for the spell to pass. Suddenly
exhaustion rolled over Victor. His lids became heavy and he couldn't keep
his eyes open any longer. Victor, as he lay there with his eyes closed, hoped
that Mac and LiAnne would realize that he was missing.
They would eventually of course, but convincing The Director that he was
genuinely gone was another matter. However, he was confident that they would
come looking for him, sooner or later. Victor just hoped it was sooner rather
than later. As he lay there perfectly still, he tried to recall exactly what
had happened to him, he remembered trying to pull his wallet out of his jacket
pocket and the unknown man with the bad breath had slapped it away. Maybe, if
he was really lucky the wallet was still near the bench. At least it would
give his partners a starting place. His thoughts slowly began to drift and
even though he tried to fight it, sleep finally over took him, his body unable
to cope with the after effects of the 'nerve gas'.
Victor's kidnapper, a man named Jack, stood and watched his prisoner
through the small peep hole in the door. He could see by the way this one
acted when he had awoke that he was smart. Smarter than the other men he had
found in the various parks over the years. This one also was better fed and
stronger too. His body was fit, his muscles well defined. Jack could see
that his newest captive had been living a good life, not a life fraught with
hunger and fright, which can only come with being homeless. Jack had the good
fortune of spotting the good looking man leaving the pizza restaurant on
Saturday night, and right away Jack knew that he had to have this particular
man.
His looks were perfect for his 'needs'.
Jack was glad that the other man, the one who had been with intended was
finally gone. Although he had to wait a few extra days for him to be alone,
the wait had been well worth it; Jack's perseverance having paid off. He
hoped that this delicious captive would fight back; making him harder to
break. Crushing the green eyed man's spirit would be a challenge. A challenge
that Jack looked forward too with keen anticipation.
Jack let the man sleep, it was time for him to rest too. Morning would come
soon enough. And when it did, his prisoner would wish that he had never been
born. Jack licked his lips at the sight of the prone, shirtless captive laying
on the bed, and taking one last look, he turned to make his way to his own
sleeping area.
LiAnne, avoided The Director's wrath by taking her sweet time reading the
profile Victor had worked on over the weekend. Never lifting her eyes once
from the white sheets of paper.
Mac on the other hand had no defense, LiAnne having the only copy of the
document they were supposed to be studying.
The Director paced back and forth, stopping in front of Mac to demand yet
again, "Phone him."
"I just did, still no answer." Mac swallowed hard and tried reading the
papers in front of his partner sideways. LiAnne leaned forward and propped her
head up with her hand, effectively blocking Mac's view. Coward he
thought.
The Director slapped the table with the palm of her hand to get Mac's
attention. It worked, the young agent swung his eyes forward. "I said, call
him again." She shook her finger and glared at Mac, like somehow it was his
fault that Victor was an hour late for the meeting.
Mac did as he was told and immediately hung up when Victor's answering
machine picked up for the fourth time.
LiAnne having finished reading the profile for the second time passed it
casually over to Mac and piped in cheerily, "I still remember Vic's code for
his answering machine, maybe I should check his messages, get an idea of what
he's up too." The Director quit scowling at Mac and smiled brightly at
LiAnne.
"That's my girl. Do it. Mac dial Vic's number again." Mac reached back
inside his coat pocket and retrieved the phone, dialed up Victor, and made a
sour face at LiAnne as he handed the cell to her.
She snatched the proffered appliance from Mac's hand, sticking out her tongue
as she did so. After Victor's short and to the point "Leave a message" was
over, LiAnne punched in the code numbers. She heard two messages from early
Monday morning, both from the Director. Then to her surprise one from late
Monday night, left by a man, whose voice she did not recognize.
...."Hey, shadowy government agent man, how are you? How was the
meeting? I guess your still in it."
The voice chuckled softly into the phone,
"Or you would have picked up by now. I wanted to let you know that the
flight was good. I got home okay."
The unknown man's voice turned somber, and continued on huskily,
"The minute I took off I wanted to turn the plane around so I could see you
again. God Vic, I can't get you out of my mind. I'm so crazy for you—you
know that don't you? Having to wait until next month just so I can look into
your beautiful green eyes again..Christ Vic,.. You, I and the weekend....I,..I
don't know what else to say except that it was the best ...ever. Phone me when
you get in, don't worry about the time, I'll be up. Talk to you later."
There was a few seconds of silence then the male voice added a tender,
"Miss you." Before hanging up.
The man had not left his name, but obviously Vic would know who it was.
Who could it be? LiAnne knew every one Victor knew, she couldn't even
begin to hazard a guess as to who the caller was.
LiAnne, who had been blushing furiously, waved away the expectant looks
of the other two, more as a comfort gesture to cover her own confusion and when
she heard Mac's messages, she broke the connection.
"What?" Stammered LiAnne, "Oh, yeah. Well no messages. Just the one's
from you and Mac." She dithered on as the two continued to stare at her,
waiting. Mac knew she was lying about something. So did the Director for that
matter.
Now the Director was getting worried, after last night she had thought
that she and Victor were on the same wave length. There was no way he would
jeopardized Mulder that way. Victor knew that she would follow through on her
threat to expose Mulder to his superiors if need be. No something must have
happened. Exactly what, she couldn't say.
The Director cut off her thoughts and said to Mac, "Get over to Vic's place
and see what's going on. Phone in if you come up with anything. LiAnne, looks
like this case,..." The Director gestured towards the desk where the open file
containing the information concerning the park murders lay, ",...needs our help
after all. You can stay here and I'll brief you on what's been happening. Why
are you still here Mac?" The Director stared hard at the lone male agent,
"Goodbye."
Mac spun on his heel and walked as fast as he could to the exit doors.
When it came to secrets, Mac had to be in on them, so if LiAnne knew
Victor's code for his machine, well then Mac had to know it too. Childish yes,
but it was part of his boyish charm. With a quick glance, Mac was able to
memorize the numbers LiAnne had used without her even knowing it. The young
agent didn't want to admit it, but he was beginning to worry too. Vic always
phoned him to touch base when and if they were working opposite ends of a case.
Victor had not checked in last night, and coupled with the no show at the
meeting today...Well, it was enough to make him wonder. Mac pulled out his
cell phone and punched in Victor's number, once the answering machine finished
talking he punched in the code.
Mac listened, bored with the Directors messages, then he heard one left by
an unfamiliar male voice and he couldn't believe his ears. Some guy telling
Victor that he was crazy for him, that he couldn't get him out of his mind,
that he missed him.
What was Victor up too this weekend?
Until fifteen seconds ago Mac would have sworn that he knew Victor better
than any one, even LiAnne for that matter, but now, after hearing 'that'
message he didn't know anymore. Mac hung up and pocketed his phone, more
determined than ever to find out what was going on. Wondering as he walked to
his car just when Victor started liking guys. And how come he had never picked
up on the fact.
Victor slowly began to regain consciousness, the last thing he remembered
was falling back asleep on the cot. It took him a few seconds to orient
himself.
Where am I now?
He breathed in deeply through his nose, trying to shake out the cobwebs that
clouded his mind. Victor tried to sit up, but he couldn't move, it was then
that he realized that he was restrained. Once again he was in a small room,
not much larger than the last one. He lifted his head and looked back and
forth, scanning not only his surroundings but also the restraints that held him
down. He was spread eagle, flat on his back in four point restraints, that
were reminiscent of the type that would be seen in use at a old-time
psychiatric hospital. The archaic devices were made of stiff leather with
heavy metal buckles, there was sheep's wool lining on the inside of the leather
to prevent chafing. All four restraints were pulled tightly around Victor's
ankles and wrists and the circulation was restricted slightly. Leaving him
with the irritating sensation of 'pins and needles' in his hands and feet.
Victor was relieved to see that he, at least, still had on his jeans, his upper
torso and feet were still bare.
A man cough from a darkened corner somewhere in the room. A deep voice
spoke to Victor. intoning ominously, "Good your awake, now we can start."
The agent made no reply to the voice, he just watched curiously as the
man that went with the voice came out of the shadows, pulling a metal surgical
tray behind him. On the tray there was a small metal bowl that was about the
size of a quarter cup measure, a needle-still in the manufacturer's wrapping,
one glass of water, surgical tubing, a single white candle secured to the
center of an old tun can, matches and a small brown packet no bigger than a
postage stamp. Victor did not like the looks of the stuff on the tray,
especially the needle and brown packet. He was an ex-cop who had worked
narcotics, the tray contained items that would typically be described as
'works'.
Tools for a junkie. NOT GOOD! he thought.
The man stood over his captive and looked down asking gruffly, "What's your
name?"
Victor still would not speak to his captor, instead giving the man an
unblinking, even stare..
So Jack—who liked this part of the interrogation—leaned over and
punched his prisoner in the stomach as hard as he could.
All of Victor's breath was lost in one giant 'whoosh' at once. He gulped
and gasped, trying to fill up his lungs with oxygen again. The pain of having
all of the air knocked out of him made his eyes tear up. Creating an illusion
that his eyes were even a deeper green than usual.
Jack like the effect, it turned him on. He was going to take his time
with this prisoner, enjoying him while he lasts. "I'll do it again unless you
tell me your name" reminded Jack pleasantly.
Victor managed to get his pain under control and blinked back the watery
drops coming from the corners of his eyes. He wheezed out a simple "Victor."
Then came all of his questions, "Who the hell are you any ways? Did the
Director send you? Let me up, why am I tied down? What the hell is the matter
with you? Where are my clothes?"
Victor had been planning on not saying a word to this 'errand boy' for the
Director, whom he still suspected just might be behind this. She did, after
all have a fetish for bondage and other assorted kinky stuff. However, before
he could blurt out another question, Jack leaned in again and hit Victor with a
small rabbit punch to the right side of his face. Immediately cutting off
anything else the agent had been about to say. The punch, though not too heavy
handed, stung. And a purple bruise from the top of Victor's eyebrow to his
cheek bone began to show instantly.
Jack grabbed Victor's face in a painful clutch, his thumb under one cheek
bone and the other four fingers underneath the other one. He held on tightly
forcing the man to look into his face, "I ask the questions here. Don't you
speak unless spoken too. Got it?"
Victor tried to pull his face away, but Jack gripped tighter. Victor nodded
'yes' in understanding.
"Good, now for courtesy's sake I'll tell you my name, it's Jack." Jack, while
still holding Victor under the cheek bones, leaned over and kissed the
restrained man roughly.
Victor tried to turn his head away, but could not.
Jack sucked on Victor's lower lip until it was so tender and sore that a
bruise rose to the surface there. Jack let go of Victor and laughed, making
the agent's stomach turn over; so that he felt like vomiting all over again.
Jack's breath was still bad, though not as awful as it had been the night
before.
Victor winced at the terrible taste of the other man in his mouth. Now he
was positive that this guy was in no way associated with the agency. Even the
Director wouldn't do this to him. The thought of being defenseless against
this psycho frightened him. Victor had been scared very few times in his life,
this was one of those occasions. He had to think, try to figure out how he was
going to get out of this mess. What if Mac and LiAnne aren't able to find him.
Victor assumed that he was on his own; better not to count on them. Just in
case. He had a feeling that Jack would probably end up killing him, an
inevitable outcome he did not look forward too.
"Who gave you these? That guy I saw you with on the weekend?" Jack asked
leering at Victor while he pushed on one of the two big hickeys on his chest
that Mulder had given him. Victor turned his face away from Jack, unwilling to
drag Mulder into this mess even if it was only metaphysically.
Jack grabbed the large purple spot on Victor's chest and pinched, twisting
the flesh painfully until he cried out a hesitant "Yes."
"Yes, what?" Jack exaggerated.
"Yes," Victor spat between clenched teeth, tightening up his muscles
against the pain, "It was the man you saw me with."
He's going to kill me! He's going to torture me and then kill me.
Victor knew that for the time being, he would just have to endure until a
chance to escape came up. He had to come up with some sort of a plan; there
was no way he that he was just going to lay there and let this guy murder him.
One piece at a time.
Jack bent his head over and spoke into Victor's face, "Well, lover, I'll
do you better than he ever could." Jack sucked the flesh next to one of the
hickey's into his mouth and bit down hard, drawing blood. He sucked a little
harder then let go. Smiling, he ran a finger across the bleeding wound.
Scooping up the red liquid he rubbed it across Victor's lips.
Unwilling to acknowledge that he was hurting, but unable to resist a
chance to mouth off, Victor cracked, "Some how I doubt that. Brush your teeth,
your breath tastes like shit." Victor worked up as much moisture in his mouth
as he could and spit directly into Jack's face. A little act of defiancé, that
earned him another punch to his head, this time to the other side. Bringing
another bruise to the surface near his eye to match it's neighbor. Victor only
grunted when he took the punch, no way was going to give this sick fucker the
satisfaction of seeing him break down if he could help it. So there Victor
lay, already bruised and bloody only one day into his captivity.
He liked that Victor was so strong willed, strong wills when they gave
in, was a beautiful sight to see. Jack turned away from his captive and mopped
up the saliva with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. He pulled the tray close
to him and using the matches, lit the candle. Then he opened up the little
brown packet and shook about 1/8 of the pure white powder into the metal bowl.
Ignoring Victor's question of "What are you doing?" Jack drew some of the
distilled water out of the glass using the fresh needle as his measure.
"See, it's clean." declared Jack, holding the needle up for Victor to view.
He pushed the water out of the needle and into the bowl, using the sharp point
of the syringe to mix the contents. Using his sleeve as a make shift pot
holder, Jack heated the liquid over the burning candle. And when he was fully
satisfied that the concoction had cooked long enough, he put the dish down and
blew out the candle. Drawing up a syringe full of the warm potion, he lay the
needle aside and picked up the rubber tubing knotting it tightly around
Victor's right biceps.
Forcing the healthy veins to the surface of the flesh on the inside crook of
the man's elbow.
Victor was frantically trying to thrash his way out of Jack's grasp, but
there was no where to go. "Don't you put that shit in me man. I swear to god,
if you do, I'll kill ya. I mean it."
Jack back-handed Victor across the face, blood spilled from the corner of his
lips where a tooth had cut the delicate lining of his mouth.
Laughing at what he assumed week, idle threats, Jack truly had no idea who
he had kidnaped. Ignorance of his captives abilities was Victor's only
advantage in this situation. Ignoring Victor's protests, Jack pinned the
agents right arm so it was still. He took up the needle and expertly plunged
the sharp metal tip of the syringe into a deep blue vein. Jack depressed some
of the liquid into the blood stream and then drew back some of the rich red
blood, letting it mix with the rest of the clear fluid. By doing this, Jack
gave what little of the drug he had put into Victor's system a chance to 'race
ahead' and make Victor's body more receptive. He didn't want to O.D. his
prisoner on the first attempt after all. Jack could tell by looking that
Victor was a non-drug user. Making him an addict wouldn't take too long, one
only had to have the patience to do it right.
But for the present, all that Jack had on his mind for now was to make Victor
pliant and later on, as the day's passed by he would work more seriously on
making his captive dependant. Jack silently counted to 60 then pushed the rest
of the contents in the hyper dermic needle into Victor's rushing blood stream.
Done, Jack pulled out the empty needle and held it up before Victor's
eyes, stating triumphantly, "Heroin." He paused for effect and then said, "And
in about 48 hours, I'll have you so addicted that you'll be begging me on hands
and knees for more."
Victor mumbled groggily, "Fuck you, you're dead..." his voice trailed off
and he was unable to continue coherently. The agent's head lolled to the side
as the powerful heroin gripped his virgin system.
Jack grabbed Victor's jaw and jerked him around, looking into the large
dilated pupils. Recognizing Victor's state for what it was, he petted back the
short hair from the stoned man's brow. Excited to finally be able to start.
Jack pulled a silver wrapped condom out of his back pocket and tossed it
onto the tray.
Victor was so out of it that he didn't even know what was going on, all he did
know was that he had no control over his body. He could feel Jack's hands
undoing his button fly jeans, but he was helpless to stop it.
As his trembly hands pulled down the jeans, stopping at mid thigh, Jack
caressed the soft white flesh hidden beneath the material. He breathed in
heavily and thought that of all of his prisoners, Victor was, by far the most
beautiful of them all.
Victor moaned out a weak protest, but it fell on deaf ears as Jack
stripped off his own clothes with a practiced efficiency. He picked up the
condom and the needle and then he hopped up onto the padded table, straddling
Victor's chest. Holding the corner of the wrapped condom in his teeth, Jacked
ripped it open and spat out the bit of foil. Grabbing Victor's head, he held
it straight, "Look at me Victor, open your eyes." He demanded.
Having no will left to fight with, Victor reluctantly did as he was told
and opened his eyes. Jack took the condom out of the wrapper and pried open
Vic's lips open placing the latex between them. Then he held the point of the
needle flush with the skin right below the dazed left eye of Victor and warned
malevolently, "Bite me and I'll take your pretty green eye out and feed it to
you. Understand?"
Vic nodded feebly, the drugs controlling him.
Jack used his other hand to squeeze Victor's mouth together, forcing him to
purse his lips so that the condom was held in place. "Because you're a fag, I'm
going to use the rubber. I don't know who you've been fucking, and I don't
want one of those faggoty diseases." Pushing his erect cock into the opening
of the condom, Jack shoved his whole penis in one deep thrust down Victor's
throat. Making him gag and choke. Jack sighed in contentment as he began to
drive his cock in and out in of Victor's mouth with a regular rhythm. He
pushed the needle a little harder against the flesh just above Victor's lower
orbital bone—cutting the skin slightly—and instructed, "Start sucking
gorgeous,...blow me, and blow me good if you want to live."
Victor was aware enough to feel shame at being forced, but too far gone
from the drugs to resist. So he did as he was told to and breathed through
his nose deeply; his un-resisting mouth pleasuring his rapist.
Jack's game had begun.
Part Three: Searching for Mr. Mansfield
Victor retched and choked as Jack pushed his hips forward, pushing his
cock as far down his throat as possible. Jack thrust viciously, driving into
Victor so hard it was as if he was trying to pierce right through his hostage's
esophagus.
Jack smiled and gazed down at his latest acquisition "Ooh, yeahh . Anyone
ever tell you that you have a mouth like a vacuum? Keep up the suction bay-bee"
Jack snickered softly at his own comparison and increased his already fast
pace. He had since abandoned the needle that he'd been using to threaten
Victor with, and settled for using his thumb instead. Jack pressed the thick
digit into the soft flesh under Victor's left eye, making it just painful
enough that, Victor was having a hard time concentrating. Jack used his other
hand to hold Victor's head; forcing the imprisoned man to look straight up at
him, eyes wide open.
Every time Victor tried closing his eyes and shutting out the reality of what
he was being forced to do, Jack slapped his face, hard. Making him stare up
and watch the man who was assaulting him. Blood trickled out of his nose and
mouth and Victor wished that Jack would just hurry up and finish. He had no
possible means of escaping, whether it was physically or mentally. The
restraints held his body down, and the drugs held him tightly secured within
the bonds of a chemical straightjacket.
It got Jack off on making Victor look up at him, forcing him to see his
dominator. Knowing that he had succeeded in burning his image into Victor's
drug addled brain for a life time.
For Victor, having to acknowledge Jack, took away virtually all of his
control; what little he could have in such a situation.
It was all part of the ritual, and before Jack was through with him, he
would make the agent do a lot more painful and humiliating things than being
forced into oral sex. The men who had been in this position before had all
thought that if they did what Jack asked without argument, that somehow he
would let them go. And Jack let them think that, the unspoken pretense of
release comforting his victims into a false sense of security.
Jack found that it was impossible for him to pull his gaze away from
Victor. He stared down, drinking up the deep green of his captive's eyes,
mesmerized by them. He had never had a green eyed 'toy' before, and Jack found
the large jade orbs to be the most compelling. Usually, men who had brown hair
had brown eyes, though a few of the men he had taken over the years had blue
eyes, those he had kept alive longer because of the novelty.
Yep. thought Jack as he neared orgasm, I think I'll keep this man
around a few days more than the usual.
Which meant that Victor had about another five or six days of living left,
give or take a day. And depending on whether or not Victor angered his captor
too much. In Jack's sick mind, all the men he had kidnaped and eventually
murdered were merely his 'playthings'. He had found them. He had taken them.
They Alone were his to possess.
The thought of possessing another human being, and particularly the
human being who was laying beneath him right now, was exhilarating. With his
newest one looking up at him, silently begging to be let go; pushed Jack over
the edge. He leaned his head back and with thigh muscles clenching tightly . .
. his orgasm was achieved.
Fortunately, Jack was the type of guy who came in silence, and Victor was
relieved. He didn't think that he would be able stand hearing Jack screaming
out his name or any of the other number of things a man might cry out in the
moment of release.
Satiated and satisfied, Jack released his painful grip he had on Victor.
Shuffling himself backwards so that he was sitting on top of Victor's groin.
He noted in passing that Vic was not erect at all.
About half of the others Jack had taken had been erect or semi-erect after,
their bodies betraying their minds. He peeled off the used condom, tied a knot
in the end and threw it on the metal tray, the condom making a wet "splat"
noise when it met with the shiny metal.
Victor rolled his head to the side and spit, trying to erase the taste of
latex from his mouth. Wishing that his jailor would get off of him, so that
sweet unconscious oblivion could wash all the way over him. Yes, sleep would
be a good thing now.
Jack hopped off the table and with his back to Victor he snorted, "What's
the matter Vic? Prefer a little flavor with your rubbers instead?" Laughing at
his own un-funny joke he began dressing just as quickly as he had undressed.
Looking back over to his shoulder to the prisoner, he was disappointed to find
that Victor had passed out.
Well this was bound to happen when a body was not used to such harsh
drugs.
Jack finished with rolling up his shirt sleeves and stepped to Victor. He
reached for the mostly nude man and fondled his private parts briefly, thinking
that the unconscious man would need a shower soon. Then pulled up the blue
jeans. Carefully doing them up.
Plenty of time for the water games later.
Lucky for Victor, Jack was in no particular hurry to kill him. He walked
over to another surgical tray that was hidden amongst the shadows of the dark
room, eyed the various instruments laying on it and picked up a pair of metal
hand cuffs. Victor may be conked out now, but past experiences told him that
the prisoner could wake up at any moment. And just like the boy scout motto;
Jack thought it best to always be prepared.
Jack, had learned that lesson the hard way.
First Jack un-did the right ankle restraint then walking to the head of
the table he gently unbuckled the right wrist, replacing the leather cuff with
the metal one. Then he walked around to Victor's left side and un-did the
other wrist. Rolling over the limp man with ease to the right, pulling the
right arm back, Jack cuffed the wrists snugly together. Only after he was
sufficiently satisfied that Victor was not going to wake up, did Jack undo the
last piece of leather restraining him. Being 4 inches taller and 25 lbs
heavier, he had no problems hoisting the unconscious man up and balancing him
over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Jack carried the dead weight back to
the concrete room and small uncomfortable bed.
Mac buzzed the apartment from the front entrance to Victor's apartment.
Still no answer. He looked left and right, made sure no one was coming and
then pulled out his black lock picks and in no more than 30 seconds had the
main door open.
Shitty security.
Mac thought that by all appearances Vic should be home, his truck was parked
in his spot the underground lot. Getting in the so-called secure lot to check
it out had been a piece of cake, he simply followed another tenants car in.
He was disgusted with the lack of security in the apartment and spotted
glaring errors here, there and every where on his way up. The entire building
was a B&E artist's dream.
I can't believe Vic lives in such an easily breached place. He's taking a
big risk staying here.
Mac had been to Victor's apartment many times before but he never really
noticed before how easy it was for an intruder to slip in and out undetected.
A man in Victor's line of work should be in a tightly controlled building.
Then again Mac lived in just such a building, provided by the agency and
where had that gotten him? Bugged conversations and invaded privacy that's
what.
Mac pounded on Vic's door, and when it was clear that no one was going to
open up, Mac pulled out his key ring and flipped the keys over until he found
the one with a capitol V marked on the grip.
Mac had keys to both Victor's and LiAnne's apartments, though they didn't know
it. Unlocking and opening the door, Mac called out, "Vic, it's me man. You
home?" No response. He shut the door behind him taking a second to hook up
the security chain. He didn't want to be caught by surprise inside the
apartment...by anybody. Mac's old tricks from his days as a thief paying off
time and time again.
He wandered through the kitchen, stopping in the living room to survey the
mess. Normally Vic was fastidious when it came to house-keeping. An empty 40
oz. bottle of Tequila left out on the coffee table along with several dried out
lemon rinds and two shot glasses glared out at him as if in warning that there
was something wrong. A salt shaker laid on it's side on the rug, making Mac
even more suspicious. He bent over and picked it up, his mind trying to put
together the scene that he was seeing.
Ok, so Vic has been drinking.
He replaced the salt shaker on the rug and spoke aloud to a shot glass, "But
with who? That guy on the tape?" Mac didn't know, but he seemed like the most
probable candidate. The air in the living room had gone stale, old liquor
bottles had a way of sucking all of the fresh air in a room and churning out a
stale smell that can only be removed by opening a window. The agent wanted to
do just that, open up a window but he didn't dare.
He had to maintain the integrity of the apartment just in case the Director
wanted to come down and look around herself. And if this turned out to be a
crime scene, then everything would have to stay the way Mac found it. He
wandered down the hall, peeking into the bathroom he saw a pile of towels
laying in the laundry basket.
"That many towels for one guy?" Again Mac spoke aloud. Vic always kept his
laundry up. So someone had definitely been here with him. They had showered
separately...or together either way there was enough dirty linen for two.
As soon as Mac pushed open the bedroom door, the smell in the room
assaulted him. The tell tale scent of sex was still evident even after a full
24 hours.
And judging by the condition of the sheets on the unmade bed, lot's of it.
The sheets needed to be washed. Something else Victor would not have
normally over looked. Mac had, after all, been in this bed before, though it
was only a joke back then. Mac had had the occasional secret fantasy involving
he and Victor. But he'd always just assumed that Victor was strictly hetro,
therefore making any contact other than friendship impossible. But that was ok,
these day's Mac was mostly into women too, mostly, but not always.
Mac sat on the edge of the bed and pushed the answering machine's play
button. Double checking to make sure Victor hadn't phoned the machine himself.
He looked down as he listened to the Director yell into the phone, and saw that
the garbage can was full of Kleenex. He didn't need to be told what they had
been used for.
As he stared into the waste can, a thought struck him as listened to
the unknown male caller's message again. Victor was supposed to be working
all weekend with some guy from the F.B.I., an agent named Mulder. Could he be
the one who left the message?
No way, a secret agent and a Fed? Too twisted.
But yet, here was all the evidence, staring him in the face.
Circumstantial yes, but evidence all the same. Mac was less than pleased to
think that his partner had turned to someone else to become involved with. He
dropped the jealous thoughts and focused his attention to the real task at
hand; the mysterious disappearance of Victor.
Mac knew that the agent had left his apartment sometime Monday
afternoon. The Director had confirmed it, in her rants this morning that
Victor had eventually shown up for work Monday; several hours late.
Why was he so late? Mac figured he now knew the answer to that question.
One last fling before saying goodbye? A late night party capped off with an
early morning
fuck and a shower. Lucky dog, at least someone was getting laid.
LiAnne, ever the ice princess, had turned him down flat in Greenland,
threatening to shoot him if he "Acted up" again.
But if the FBI man, Mulder, has already left and Victor's come and gone from
work... then where the hell is he?
Judging by the state of his apartment, Mac thought it was safe to assume that
Victor probably had never even gone back inside his apartment, or else he would
have picked up around the place.
Therefore, he must have parked his truck and gone somewhere else, and
wherever he was going, something had happened to him either on his way there or
at his destination. Something bad. Why else would he not check in with the
agency?
Mac pulled out his cell phone and dialed the Director's number wanting to
bring her up to speed with his thoughts on his missing partner.
"Ok." Began the Director "Here's what we know so far... two months ago an
elderly man, out walking his dog discovered the nude, murdered body of a still
as yet unidentified male under some shrubbery in Ballard Park. Joe Doe's
stats read as follows: Caucasian, approximate age 34, 6' 1", 190 lbs, brown
eyes, brown hair. Joe Doe's corpse was still relatively fresh when he was
found, decomp hadn't even begun to set in yet. The autopsy results revealed
that he had only been dead around 24 hours."
"The Director was reading impassively from the police and coroner's report she
had received. She casually looked at the crime scene photo's, there was
nothing in them she hadn't seen before. Definitely not the worse stuff she had
come across. She slid the photo's across the table top to LiAnne.
Who looked at them just as impassively as her boss had done. Though not
for the same reasons. At the moment LiAnne's mind was a million miles away.
She was too busy thinking about Victor and the man on the machine. Not liking
any of the conclusions she was drawing to; pangs of jealously licked her
insides turning her stomach into a tangle of dragonflies. She thumbed through
the photo's quickly with out really seeing, then set them aside waiting for
more information.
The Director continued, "He had track marks on the inside of just one
arm, and his body was covered in bruises. Some of them the M.E. estimated to
be.." she flipped up the page "..about 3 to 4 days old mixed in with some that
were fairly recent. They also determined that he had been sexually assaulted,
in a manner described on paper only as 'extremely deviant', apparently his
tissues in the rectal area were a mess. Death was due to strangulation,"
" The Director looked up from her papers and pulled off her glasses, she looked
LiAnne in the eye directly and stated flatly "The poor man was drugged, raped
and methodically beaten over an extended period time. We don't know Joe Doe's
name yet, but we do know that he lived in Ballard Park. Someone or some people
abducted him from the park, kept him alive for about 4 days then murdered him
and dumped the poor bastard back to where he'd come from."
"She paused, waiting for LiAnne to react to her statement. After a beat she
realized that LiAnne wasn't looking at her, but was looking through her. The
Director reached forward and snapped her fingers twice under the young woman's
nose. "Hello, earth to LiAnne are you home?"
LiAnne blinked her eyes clear then shrugged off her temporary trance.
She had heard everything the Director had said to her, it was just taking a few
minutes to digest it all. LiAnne sat up straight all business now. The
Director asked casually "Are you all right? What's going on?"
"Nothing, I'm fine. I was just worrying about Vic. Wondering where he
is." Well half of it was true anyway, she just didn't mentioned that she had
also been thinking about Victor and another man.
She truly was concerned as to his where-a-bouts.
"Well don't be, Mac will phone if anything's up." Showing no real concern
over Victor just yet, the Director turned her attention back to the case.
LiAnne asked "How come we have this case? Why aren't O.P.P or the RCMP
taking care of this?
"I am glad you asked that." The Director was too, it showed that her
favorite agent had been listening after all. "Joe Doe's vitals were run
through the computer in an attempt to I.D. him. It's not too often a grown man
is the victim of a sex crime. Any how, when his Vi-stats were entered, the
computer kicked up all sorts of red flags. Seems that starting around 6 years
ago two victims matching Joe Doe's description were found in Central Park, four
months apart."
The Director went back to her desk to look at the report, refreshing her
memory. "The killings were virtually identical, right down to dumping the
victims back to where they had been snatched from. N.Y.P.D thought that they
might have the makings of a serial killer, so they passed the case on to the
F.B.I. In particular to a young profiler by the name of Fox Mulder. He wrote
the profile up, but then the killings never expanded beyond the two known."
The Director drank down what was left of her cold water and continued on with
briefing LiAnne, "Now it looks like the killer kept on murdering, he just
changed his location. There were, subsequently seven more murders after the
New York pair. One in Las Vegas, two in L.A., one in Seattle, one in Vancouver,
one in Regina and one-the last body found- in Toronto."
"Local Cops have too much on their plate right now, and quite frankly this
is too big for them. So we're stepping in to help out. Of course local law
enforcement will get the credit when we catch this guy. Which is why I had Mr.
Mulder down from D.C. on the weekend." Added The Director innocently. She
pulled more photo's out of another envelope, they were head and neck pictures
of the other eight victims, all of them taken in the morgue.
LiAnne picked up the photo's and looked through them. Studying these
photographs more closely then the other ones of the John Doe from the park.
She reached the last picture and went through the stack again, then the gravity
of the situation hit her, all these men were really dead. So why was she still
thinking of Victor? Recognition dawned on her, she was thinking of Victor
because all the dead men reminded her of him. Alarmed LiAnne looked up at the
Director, who was reading another document.
"What ?" asked the Director expectantly.
LiAnne was amazed that the Director hadn't already caught it yet. "Do you
realize,..." she began, her voice a little shaky, "...that all of these dead
men look like Victor?"
LiAnne didn't want to jump to any conclusions, but the facts were there. "They
have similar looks, builds and are all close to the same age range to him."
Along with alarm, LiAnne now felt queasy. "OH GOD! Victor only lives a block
and a half from Ballard Park. What if this freak is staking out the park
looking for his next victim. SHIT!" LiAnne raised her voice, she was
positively scared now. "He goes to that park all the time. Day and night."
She jumped up so fast you might have thought her chair had burst into flames.
The Director stared at LiAnne wide-eyed with worry. Adding up the facts
for herself. 1- Victor goes missing, 2- He lives near and frequents a park
that the last known victim lived in and was dumped back into after his death
and 3- His resemblance to the other men right down to his age, weight and
height were just too close for comfort. The Director walked to her phone
intending to call Mac to see just what the hell was going on. Maybe he had
already heard from Victor. However, before she reached her phone, it rang out,
it's noisy shrill startling both the Director and LiAnne.
"An Omen" whispered LiAnne.
When Victor finally woke, he found that he was back in the small cell and
chained to the wall, with his hands cuffed behind his back. He had been laying
on his stomach but with a bit of effort, he managed to roll to his side and
then into a sitting position. He kept his eyes on the door and wondered when
Jack would be back for him. The after effects of the high grade heroin had
left him with a mild headache. Luckily he had ended up sleeping most of the
high off. But, even as stoned as he was, the memories of what Jack had made
him do, were not erased.
His cheeks reddened in at shame at the left over images of what had been done
to him. He was a grown man. Stuff like this didn't happen to men, especially
to a man who was used to getting shot at for a living.
What will Mulder think? worried Vic.
Then he told himself practically that it didn't matter what Fox thought, this
guy was going to kill him any ways. And for all he knew, no one even knew that
he was missing yet.
Victor heard the bolt click, and he snapped his head up to watch as the
door swung open.
Jack stood in the door way with a tray of food and water in his hands. His
body illuminated from behind by an un-seen light source. He carefully kicked
the door shut behind him and placed the tray down on the floor.
Victor made no move to get up. Not that he could get far, chained to the
wall and all.
"You hungry Victor?" Jack's voice was soft-almost caring.
Victor shook his head no. But the truth he was he was hungry. Ravenous in
fact.
Jack ignored his captives gesture and squatted down next to the tray, he
lifted a white cloth napkin off of a small plate and held it up to Victor so he
could see what was on it. The plate held a ham and Swiss cheese sandwich with
bright green leaf lettuce.
His mouth began to water and in an act of betrayal, his stomach grumbled
loudly in response to the sight and smell of food.
"I'll ask you one more time, are you hungry?"
Victor wanted to refuse the food and the water, but he couldn't afford to
get weak. He needed to keep his strength up if he was going to have any hope
at all of escaping. If a window of opportunity opened up then he wanted to be
able to take it. Victor turned his head sideways, his face a perfect mask of
vulnerability, he looked at Jack and whispered "Yes".
"Try anything, and I'll kill you where you sit." Warned Jack. He put the
tray down and picked up the uncut sandwich and the water bottle.
Victor straightened up awkwardly with his back to the wall. His free leg
bent at the knee and tucked in close to him, while his chained leg lay
partially extended over the bed. Jack climbed onto the cot and sat so close to
Victor, he was almost on top of him. Reluctantly, Victor opened his mouth and
allowed his captor hand feed him the sandwich. His bites were followed by large
sips of water. Both of which he needed badly.
Once Victor had finished the sandwich, Jack asked, "Do you need to pee?"
Unwilling to speak to Jack, Victor simply nodded his head 'yes'. He
appeared to be passive on the out side; waiting to see what Jack would do.
This could be his chance to escape if Jack uncuffed him to go to the bathroom.
No such luck, Jack wrapped his hand around Victor's throat and squeezed,
cutting off the agent's air temporarily. With the other hand he reached under
the foot of the bed and pulled out the bucket. Jack angled himself around
Victor and pushed the gasping man towards the end of the bed.
"Oh no," Victor said a raspy voice, "Un-cuff me so I can go on my own".
Jack perched on his knee's behind his captive, wrapped his arms around
Victor and pulled him close so that his chest rested against the other's back.
With his hand still around Victor's throat, Jack spoke directly into Victor's
ear, "If you need to go, I'll help you. Otherwise piss your pants." Jack's
free hand invaded the planes of Victors chest and when he felt the bite mark
that he had made earlier, he pushed down cruelly on the tender spot, making
Victor inhale sharply from the pain. Victor had no wish to be held by another
while he urinated, but the alternative-soiling his jeans-was even less
appealing.
Picking the lesser of the two evils, Victor nodded his assent "Fine.
Unzip me then, I gotta go."
Jack grinned to the back of Victor's head. "Good boy." He undid the
jeans and delicately grasped Victor's penis, aiming it accurately at the
bucket.
Flushed with humiliation, Victor was having a hard time getting started,
the hand that held him was distracting. But eventually the need to go won out
and he released his bladder. After he had finished urinating, Jack still held
onto Victor.
"Let go of my dick you twisted fuck and do me up." Hissed Victor through
clenched teeth.
Jack made no reply to Victor's demand. Instead he wrapped his fist around
the formidable member in his hand and began to very slowly, ever so gently,
stroke it to life. Victor was absolutely mortified with himself. How could he
get hard at the hands of this pervert? In anger and frustration, he struck out
by snapping his head back and smashing it into Jack's nose.
Jack, in extreme pain, grabbed at his nose and tried to stop the blood from
gushing out of his nostrils.
Perhaps not the wisest move on his part, but at least now Victor could die
knowing that he had tried to protect himself.
In a full blown rage, Jack pulled his hands away from his nose and
punched the still handcuffed Victor hard in the side of head, a primal scream
tearing from his throat as he did so. Ignore the blood dripping from his
nose.
Stunned by the punch, Victor lay there in a crumpled heap trying clear the
stars out of his vision.
Dripping blood and sweat, Jack stood and went over to the tray. He picked
up another napkin that had concealed the rest of the contents of the tray. The
heroin works.
Victor saw the paraphernalia. His eyes widened in panic and he began to
shake his head mumbling "No, no" over and over again.
Jack flipped the struggling man over and pinned him down with one heavy
knee to the back. He quickly tied the rubber tubing around Victor's tense
right arm and then repeated the same procedure on his captive has he earlier in
day. Within a few seconds the drugs started to take effect and Victor's body
gradually went slack, all the fight draining out of him.
Jack wound his fingers through Victor's short hair and reefed his head
back, "You want blood?" He seethed, spittle spraying from his mouth and
hitting Victor on the side of his face. Jack wiped his bruised nose on his
sleeve which was still dripping little droplets of blood. "I'll show you blood
pretty boy" He roughly shoved Victor's face into the mattress, demonstrating
his anger.
Part Four: Calling Agent Mulder
Jack gripped the back of Victor's head with one hand and used his other,
in one swift motion to unbuckle and pull his sleek leather belt through blue
jean loops. He pulled his knee away from Victor's back and stood up.
Folding the belt in half, Jack began to beat the handcuffed man with it.
When the leather connected with Victor's soft, pale flesh it made a loud
smacking noise. Jack swung his practiced arm with all his might, putting the
force of his large biceps and shoulder behind the blows. A red welt appeared
on the skin wherever the belt struck.
Victor tried to shield himself, but without the use of his hands it was
virtually impossible.
Jack's anger at being given a bloodied nose escalated to beyond furious; he
was working himself into a frenzy. Not aiming at any particular part of
Victor, Jack whipped the belt randomly-from the backs of Victor's well muscled
arms, down his smooth back to his head and face. Not caring where the supple
black leather landed.
More spittle sprayed out of his mouth when he bellowed, "DON'T. YOU.
EVER. HIT. ME. AGAIN!" The perspiration dripping from his forehead peppered
Victor's body like rain drops. At Some point, during the beating, Jack had
changed his grip and was now battering Victor with the buckle end of the belt,
inflicting even worse damage.
Victor rolled over to his left side, trying to escape the punishing
whipping. He felt the sting of the buckle as it struck his right cheek, making
his eyes water and he knew immediately that the skin there had been opened up.
Warm blood flowed from the cut down his cheek, to the corner of his mouth. The
coppery taste of the liquid spurred him into action and his instincts took
over. He rolled to the foot of the bed in order to be able to bring his knees
up to meet his head, trying to protect himself as best as he could by trying to
covering as much of his head as possible. Like a turtle retreating into its
shell.
And now all Victor could do for himself was to endure the pain of the
beating and wait for the crazed man to tire. Mercifully, the fresh dose of
drugs in his system had dulled some of the pain. Eventually, Jack's pace slow,
then stopped. Despite his pain addled condition, Victor realized an
opportunity had come his way, and he took it. Effecting a completely
convincing I'm helpless face, he swallowed down the searing pain and
rolled onto his back so he could look directly into Jack's pale blue eyes.
Victor was aware that the blood and bruises made him look even more
defenseless. "Please..." He pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Un-cuff me. I won't
try anything."
Then in an even softer, breathier tone, "I promise." Victor blinked his
large green eyes up at Jack, knowing his wet lashes made his eyes appear even
larger. He was trying to appeal to Jack on any level he could, sexual or
otherwise... whatever did the trick.
Jack stared down unblinking at Victor. He felt no real pity or sympathy
towards his prisoner, but looking down at him now into that very handsome face
he felt something. He wasn't exactly positive of what, but it was something
that was for sure. Jack knew that if he railed too hard on Victor too soon,
that he would end up killing the man sooner than he intended too. And even
though he was furious that his captive had hurt him, he had, after all wanted a
fighter this time. Someone who would be more of a challenge than the last man.
That guy had ended up being no fun at all by dying so easily.
"No. I won't take the cuffs off. But I'll allow you to have your hands
in front of yourself." Jack was no fool.
"Please, do it." Having his hands cuffed in the front at least gave
Victor a fighting chance. "I'm so tired, I just want to sleep." To prove it,
Vic closed his lids and feigned a yawn. He rolled over to give Jack better
access to the metal bracelets. Doing a perfect imitation of a rag doll, Vic
allowed himself to be cuffed in the front.
Jack sat down on the bed and adjusted the cuffs. Then he reached out
with a large hand and brushed back the short dark brown hair on Victor's
forehead and said quietly, "I don't like it when you make me do things like
that. Behave and it won't happen again."
The kindness, after an act of cruelty was just another component of his
carefully orchestrated game. Jack, by performing acts both cruel and kind in
nature, would eventually break down his prisoner. He put the onus on the
captive by letting him think that it was his fault that he had been hurt when
in reality Jack would have found any excuse to punish Victor. He leaned in and
kissed Victor very softly on his puffy, bruised lips. Then he stood and walked
to the door, gathering up everything that he had brought into the room and put
the items back on the tray.
As Jack moved around the room cleaning up after himself; he sang softly,
"No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, the sad man ...behind blue
eyes."
Victor would never have guessed that Jack was the type to casually sing.
The bastard's happy with him self!
And inside, Victor was just as happy for himself because during the beating,
when he had been turtling around near the foot of the bed, his earring had
caught on some loose threads on the mattress. He had to tug lightly in order
to releasing his caught ear. It was then that the proverbial light bulb lit up
over his head.
Jack had carefully removed all the things from not only Victor's person but
from the room that might enable him to escape. Except the earring that he
wore, Jack seemed to have over looked it. The silver was soft and Victor would
be able to straighten out the hoop and use it to pick the handcuff lock.
Victor thought that by asking for freedom from the cuffs entirely, would most
likely end up in a compromise with his hands in front. A circumstance he could
very easily deal with.
But first he had to sleep. The adrenaline rush of the beating along
with the drugs had left him exhausted. He allowed himself to fall asleep,
telling himself to wake as soon as possible. All he needed was a couple hours
of rest.
The Director picked up the ringing phone. "Yes?"
"It's me." Mac said, monotone. "Vic's not here but his truck is, and it's
in the right parking spot. I think I'll walk through the neighborhood, see if
anybody's seen him around. His place is a mess and that's not like him.
Something's wrong, I can feel it," added Mac ominously.
"Forget that for now, come back in. LiAnne and I have some new
information. We'll take a look at what we got then go from there." The
Director didn't want to say too much over the phone. She, better than anyone,
knew that the walls had eyes and ears. And she didn't want to get a full scale
investigation going, only to have Victor show up later. Though like LiAnne and
Mac she did have a bad feeling about Vic's disappearance. The Director hung up
on Mac without saying goodbye, giving him no chance to argue her orders.
LiAnne had sat and listened to the one way conversation. Correct in
guessing that the person on the other end was Mac.
The Director turned to the female agent, a serious frown set to her mouth.
"Go down to records and pull the last 10 cases Victor worked on. Look for
anyone who made a threat against him or has a grudge..."
"Yeah, right. Everyone threatens him at some point..." The Director's
hard stare stopped LiAnne mid-sentence.
She continued on as if she had not been interrupted. "See who's out of jail
and looking to even up the score. Check out everyone, let's eliminate the
obvious. I don't want to blow this up if we don't have too. Grab Dobrinski on
your way out and get him to help you. I'll send Mac down when he shows up."
She waved her hand, dismissing LiAnne.
The Director waited until LiAnne had shut the door behind her before she
picked up the phone. Keying through the numbers stored in her computer, she
made a few phone calls then dialed one final number. She checked the time on
her watch to make sure that he would still be at work.
Only 4:00-he'd still be there.
"Federal Bureau of Investigation." stated a slightly nasal female
voice.
"Fox Mulder's desk please," asked the Director pleasantly. If she was
wrong and nothing had happened to Victor; then Skinner would be furious with
her for calling the F.B.I. agent back into town. But if things turned out like
her gut feeling told her it would, Mulder's years as an experienced profiler
would be invaluable to finding and retrieving Victor alive; and in one piece.
Mulder's years as a investigative field agent would be asset in having him help
with the search. But what made him the most valuable to the investigation was
his physical and emotional attachment to Victor. Fox Mulder would go to the
ends of the earth to find Victor Mansfield. Of that she was sure of. He would
search for and check out every clue he and the team could turn up, and he would
not stop looking for Victor until he found out what had happened to him. Fox
Mulder reacted the same way with everyone he cared about-whether it was his
sister, his partner or his missing lover.
Mulder's obsessive personality was the Director's ace in the hole.
"Mulder," came the terse greeting into the phone. The Director didn't
care, anything was better than the Muzak she had been listening to.
"Fox Mulder?" She queried, making sure that she indeed was speaking to
the right person.
"Yeah, you got him. What can I do for you?" He was distracted. He had
been trying to concentrate on the file before him, but all he had managed to
do was think about Victor and their weekend of fun; and why Victor hadn't
called him back yet.
"You don't know me but,.." always an inauspicious beginning, "...But I
work for the same shadowy government agency Victor Mansfield does." There,
that ought to grab his attention.
"I have no idea what you're talking about ma'am" lied Mulder smoothly.
"Yes..." she hesitated a beat, "...you do. I'm Victor's boss. I believe
he told you I was the 'Dragon Lady', or he might have referred to me as
the 'meanest woman in the world'." The Director smiled at the words
Victor might have used. All of them an accurate description of herself, of
course.
"Ooh, yeah the bitch with the rubber fetish. He mentioned you. Look if
this is about the profile..."
"No, it's about Victor actually."
There was a pause. Then a slightly worried, "What about him?"
The Director could hear the uncertainty creep into Mulder's voice. She let
the silence hang for a second before continuing on, "Well it seems he's
missing. No one has seen or heard from him since our delayed meeting
Monday night." She put emphasis on the word 'delayed' to keep him
guessing.
Even in a time of crisis the Director couldn't resist the mind games. "I've
put in a official request of course, this call is merely a formality, but I
think you should come back up here A.S.A.P."
"When? Exactly when did he go missing?" Asked Mulder.
The Director smiled into a mirror and fixed her hair, studying her roots
and purposely not answering the question. Mulder would be on the next plane to
Toronto; no worries about trying to convince him to come back. "Our agency's
jet should be landing at Dulles airport in about 2 ‡ hours to pick you up.
We'll save the American taxpayers some money this time around. Your boss should
be reading the request for your services as we speak."
Mulder was impatient to get off the line. This bimbo wasn't going to tell
him anything over the phone any ways. He should have known that if Victor could
have called he would have. He was a man of his word. The quicker Mulder
remembered that the better. "Ok, have all pertinent information faxed to me,
I'll read it on the plane," he added hastily to the conversation.
"The file is already on board. I should warn you though, we think
Victor's disappearance might be linked to the profile you two worked on
together this weekend. " She heard a sharp intake of breath. "I'll let you
read the rest on the plane. You can draw your own conclusions about the case.
Bring everything you've got on file. I'll have someone meet you at the airport
when you land." Then she added, "Oh and Mulder? I look forward to seeing you
again." She cut the connection.
Mulder sat there holding the phone in his hand. Lost in thought. He was
more than just concerned about Victor. But what had that woman meant by "I
look forward to seeing you again" He had never met her. Mulder hung up
the handset, only to pick it up again when it rang immediately after.
It was Kim, the A.D.'s secretary; "requesting that Agent Mulder come to his
office." Mulder stood and left his desk to head for Skinner's office.
Mac, arriving at the agency while the Director was on the phone was told
to see LiAnne and Dobrinski in the records room, to help them check Vic's
recent cases. When he arrived the only other person in the place was LiAnne.
Dobrinski having gone to check on some suspects who had fled overseas.
"Sit down and pull up a file." LiAnne said rather grimly. Her eyes were
sore from the fluorescent lighting glaring off of the bright white pages.
"What's going on? Why did the Director call me back in? Did she tell you
that Vic's truck was at the apartment?" Mac could have gone on with more
information but LiAnne interrupted him by holding up her hand to stop him.
"We're checking into past cases of Victor's. That's what's going on. The
Director called you back in to show you this." LiAnne handed over the file
containing all the information of the murders. "Look at the photos first then
read the reports." advised LiAnne.
Mac flipped through the pictures slowly, absorbing the carnage of some of
the photos. When he had finished looking at the stack, he flipped through them
again. This time more quickly. Mac looked over at LiAnne. Overwhelmed he
asked, "Am I seeing what I think I am seeing?"
LiAnne, sounding very much like Dobrinski, asked in return, "I don't
know. What do you think you're seeing?"
"I think..." Mac hesitated, "...that I'm looking at pictures of 9 murdered
men who look a whole lot like Vic." Mac felt sick to his stomach. The
resemblance between all the men was eerie. He picked up the report and began
to read, not looking up again until he was done.
Finally, he stood up and got a drink from the vending machine and then sat
back down to re-read the report. His stomach was doing flip-flops by the time
he had finished the papers. Mac connected the dots between the 9th victim in
the park and Vic's disappearance. He too knew that his partner liked the park.
Hopefully it just a coincidence, but Mac had a sinking feeling that it was not.
An hour and a half after Mac had arrived the Director showed her face.
And what a grim looking face it was. Both Mac and LiAnne had been startled by
her entrance. In the Director's absence they had managed to clear up all the
question marks relating to Victor and past cases. Dobrinski still had not come
back from his end of things.
As it turned out they had had some time to discuss what else was on their
minds. Namely Victor and the phone call. LiAnne confessed to being confused
by who it could be and what the call meant. She told Mac that she thought that
maybe Victor was seeing another person, namely a man. But who that man could
be stumped her. And why he would choose a man when he was heterosexual was
beyond her .
Mac on the other hand was not as shocked at Victor choosing a man as
LiAnne. He and Victor had been flirting on a subconscious level for almost a
year. Both men knew what was going on, but neither of them had ever
acknowledge the flirtatious overtures. Mac brought none of this up to LiAnne
though, he dared to venture instead, "Why not choose a guy? After the way you
trashed him..."
LiAnne answered that comment by slapping Mac across the face, claiming
that she had not trashed him. "But," she admitted after a pause, "I did hurt
him and badly too." She paused again and then asked honestly "Do you really
think I ruined him for other women?"
Mac laughed, surprised by the naivete of the other agent and replied,
speaking slowly like he was talking to a small child, "No, I think he always
liked men but never admitted it to himself. He is probably bi-sexual. I would
guess. He's never said anything to me about it. Only Victor can tell us
what's really going on with him. Victor... or...," Mac was rubbing the red
hand print LiAnne's slap had left, "...that Mulder guy."
"Agent Mulder? How'd you put the two of them together?"
"Well, the Director did say that Victor was holed up in his apartment all
weekend with Agent Mulder working out the profile of the killer. And when I
went there today,.." Mac leaned in close to LiAnne, lowering his voice
considerably, "...the place was a wreck." LiAnne flashed a confused look at
Mac, as if to say 'Vic left a mess?' Mac spoke on. "There were a couple
of shot glasses and an empty bottle of Tequila. And I didn't see any extra
bedding for sleeping on the couch." Mac raised his eyebrows and gave his
most damning piece of evidence. "The bedroom reeked of sex. His bed was
unmade. Nothing was cleaned up. I heard the message on the machine too you
know."
It was at that point in the conversation that the Director had swept into
the room kicking the door closed behind her. Both agents looked up and focused
their attention on their boss. The Director looked back and forth between them
and commented to Mac, "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary."
Mac shook his head. "No. Just trying to piece together what could have
happened to Vic. All these," he swept his hand at the stack of former case
files, "...checked out. We're still waiting to hear back from Dobrinski."
The Director rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Dobrinski is setting up the
conference room. All his overseas stuff checked out too. Looks like we might
be dealing with the park murderer after all." She walked behind the agent's
chairs. "I've sent for Agent Mulder in Washington. He will be assisting us in
the search."
The Director ignored the narrowed eyes of LiAnne and the look of disbelief
on Mac's face. "Agent Mulder will be officially in on this. So get over
yourselves and think about Victor. He's our best chance at finding him. He
knows serial killers better than anybody. Mulder's plane will be landing in a
half an hour. The two of you go get something to eat and be back here by...",
the Director looked at her Rolex, "...7:15. By then Dobrinski and I will have
a whole lot more to tell you."
The dismissed agents rose and left without dispute. Arguing only worked to
piss off the Iron maiden.
The Director gathered up the file and photos, taking it back with her to
the conference room, wondered if that the fax she was waiting for had come
through.
Part Five: Some things are better left unsaid
Mac and LiAnne sat at the large conference table, waiting impatiently
for the Director to show up with Agent Mulder. The table seemed unbalanced to
Mac; he was not used to seeing that third black leather chair empty. It didn't
look right and it sure as hell didn't feel right. Mac exhaled heavily. He was
frustrated that this briefing was taking so long in getting started.
Vic's missing for Christ sakes. Where's the agency's sense of urgency?
If it were up to him, he and LiAnne would have been kicking open every door
to the storefronts facing the park by now, showing the proprietors of those
shops Victor's picture; checking out where he had been and trying to trace his
steps of where he had been going.
Another 15 minutes then I'm 'outta here; meeting or no meeting.
He looked over at LiAnne, who was making herself busy by inspecting her
impeccably manicured nails. She may have looked bored, but Mac knew that it
was just a cover. LiAnne was really a ball of nervous knots at the thought of
meeting Agent Mulder. Breathing deeply and concentrating on her fingernails
was just her way of coping.
The butterflies in her stomach had left LiAnne feeling slightly
nauseous. At dinner she had barely eaten a thing, opting to spread the food
around the plate with her chopsticks instead. Not only was she not so sure
about meeting the F.B.I. agent; but she was also very afraid for Victor's
safety. And on top of all that, a little voice in the back of her mind kept
questioning her as to why she had even broken up with Victor—the most kind
and generous man she had known—in the first place? And for what? Mac
Ramsey? What a mistake that had been.
The bottom had dropped out of her and Mac's relationship the minute she
split with Victor.
How could I have broken up with Vic? He was the best thing that ever
happened to me.
LiAnne berated herself. She was conflicted in her feelings for both Mac and
Victor. She had thought that she and Mac had some unfinished business to deal
with so breaking up with Victor was for the best, but in hindsight it had been
a momentous mistake. One that she would have to live with.
She had gone to Mac after breaking up with Victor, but he had shown
no serious interest in discussing past events with her, so she had ended
putting their relationship behind her as well; as he had seemingly already done
so. Truth was LiAnne had enjoyed living alone again; she liked not being in a
committed relationship. Or so she thought at the time. Now that Victor was
missing LiAnne wasn't really sure of what she wanted.
It was while LiAnne sat there that she came to a decision; when they found
Victor, alive, she was going to ask him to get back together. Yes, that's what
she would do.
Agent Mulder be damned ! He was probably just a passing fancy anyway.
Ignoring LiAnne—who was in turn ignoring him—Mac checked his
watch, it read, 8:25. He jumped up abruptly and started pacing.
Having been pulled from her thoughts, LiAnne looked up and calmly asked
the agitated man, "What?"
"If no one walks through that door in the next 5 minutes, I'm 'outta
here."
As far as Mac was concerned he had been sitting there long enough
waiting for The Director and Dobrinski to show up. He was tired of hanging
around and waiting for Agent Mulder to come charging in on his white horse to
save the day. It was just too much shit for him to put up with. Mac felt like
his detective skills were being challenged. The Director acted that as if
without Agent Mulder there would be no hope in finding Victor at all. Mac
thought that it was total bull shit, he was just as good at his job as Mulder
was at his. Mac did not appreciate another rooster invading his hen house.
At times, it may have looked to others in the agency that Mac was
nothing but a big cut-up and that he was always goofing around, which was true
most of the time. But at a time like this, when one of his partners was in
danger his full attention was focused in on Victor and his being found. He was
serious now, and to prove it, he was even willing to put up with working with
Mulder, partnering with him. Providing that the new partner showed up in the
next 3 minutes.
Enough shit, I'm gone.
Mac grabbed his suit jacket and started to pull it on while he walked
towards the big glass doors. But before he could reach them though the
Director, who had entered through another door said to his back,
"Hold your horses. We're ready to start." She smiled inwardly at
Mac's impatience to begin; he was more worried about Victor than he liked to
let on. The Director began laying out 3 identical folders on the long table.
As she did this, Dobrinski pushed the main doors open and bustled through with
his hands full of papers. Following close behind him was another man.
Agent Mulder I presume. Thought Mac.
The agent sat down and watching the slightly rumpled man make his way to the
table.
Dobrinski obviously had already met the man so he introduced him to everyone
else in the room.
Mulder asked the Director if he were to call her that, to which she smiled
and replied "yes".
When Mulder greeted LiAnne, she uncharacteristically ignored his
outstretched palm and gave him a hard stare in return. He pulled his hand away
and directed it towards Mac, commenting as he did so, "I heard a lot about you.
Vic spoke highly of your...er... skills." Mulder gave him a small lopsided
smile.
Mac pumped the other man's hand twice, secretly pleased that Victor
had mentioned him. As long as he didn't talk to much they would get along O.K.
How Mulder and LiAnne would fare together was another story. Mac hoped that
she was assigned some other duty in this investigation. He had not failed to
notice the look LiAnne had given Mulder. Ignoring his hand seemed to seal his
fate in her eyes. She was determined to disliked Agent Mulder before she even
met him.
LiAnne picked up Mulder's casual use of Victor's name. Hate'em
already
She did not speak one single word during the introductions. Preferring to
stick to the old adage of "If you can't say something nice, then don't say
anything at all."
Dobrinski instructed Mulder to take the empty chair then turned around
to tack up some photos to the surface of a large roll-away cork board. First
he put up a photo of a small pizza shop, then a black and white head shot of a
man, that was of a very grainy quality. Lastly, he pinned up another photo of
the same unknown man, that was taken quite a few years ago. In it he was
wearing a formal Marine uniform. Under the photos Dobrinski tacked up a large
map of the area around Ballard park. Having done that, he walked over to the
table and handed a copy of the black and white photo to each agent. They all
took the photo and studied it, waiting for the Dobrinski to begin.
The Director sat behind her desk working at her computer. She already
knew what Dobrinski was going to say so instead of listening, she was using the
time to pull up old records to see if she could find anything else that might
help the three reluctant 'partners'.
Dobrinski picked up a long pointer stick and without preamble began.
"The photo you are looking at is of a man named Jackson James Douglas. We'll
call him 'Jack' for brevity's sake. He is an American citizen, male,
Caucasian, age 45, born Aug 17, 1954 in Vancouver, Washington state. He's 6'4"
tall, has blonde hair and blue eyes" Dobrinski made eye contact with each
seated agent and as he looked at Mulder he said, "The last time he was weighed
he came in at 210 lbs. Judging by the most recent photo...,"
Dobrinski slapped the grainy black and white photo with his pointer,"...an
accurate measurement still."
Mulder grimaced as he studied the black and white picture.
He's a whole lot bigger than Victor The thought angered Mulder. If this
freak dared to hurt even a hair on his...
He reluctantly dragged his attention away from his private thoughts to
concentrate on what Dobrinski was saying.
"He was the only child to James and Fern Douglas-both deceased.
Jack's parents were murdered on his 10th birthday by a unknown male who broke
in during the family party. Jack's parents had been killed first then the
assailant set his sights on him. He raped and beat Jack, and when he was
finished with him he stabbed the poor kid. Lucky for Jack the assailant never
had a chance to finish the job. It appears that he was interrupted by a
neighbor who had happened to be returning some borrowed tools when he heard the
screaming. The neighbor saw the blood and went to call the cops, allowing the
intruder to escape. No one was ever arrested, but interestingly enough.."
Dobrinski flipped through his files and pulled out picture which he
tacked on to the board next to the others. It was a hand drawn sketch that
could have been Victor, if the 3 at the table didn't already know better.
"Here is a composite sketch of the suspect. Of course we know it's not
Mansfield because he would have been only one year old at the time of the
crime."
The composite drawing of young Jack's assailant had at first startled
both Mac and LiAnne, then helped them with answering the question as to why
Jack was targeting a particular type of man. Puzzle solved.
Mulder had been privy to all of this information while flying back to
Toronto, so he of course already knew before hand as to why Jack was focusing
was his attention on men who all were similar to each other. Jack was a whole
lot sicker than any of them had even realized before, including Mulder himself.
"Young Douglas, after his parent's funerals, was sent to Long Island
to live with his grandparents. There's no info on the subject for the rest of
his childhood and youth. However, we do know from.." Dobrinski went back to
his pages for a quick consult, "... a report that was made to Jack's family
physician by a school nurse that there might have been the possibility of
physical and perhaps even sexual abuse in the house. That report was
unsubstantiated though. Agent Mulder thinks it's most likely true ."
The other two agents swung their heads to look at Mulder. He shrugged
his shoulders and said, "I'm a psychologist" as if that explained it all.
The trio looked back to Dobrinski who picked up his thread of facts
and continued on. "Jackson Douglas surfaces again in 1970 when he joined the
Marines...," Dobrinski pointed to the colored photo of Jack, "...with the
permission of his grandparents. He served for 2 years then left. Records
showed that he was honorably discharged. Jack's role in the military was a
simple one. He was an expert marksmen. Translation—sniper. And when he
wasn't out shooting the enemy from 200 yards he captured and interrogated
Vietcong soldiers." Dobrinski opened up a bottle of water that had been
sitting on the Director's desk, taking a long pull on the cool contents. No
one spoke; each agent was lost in their own thoughts for the time being.
Thirst sated, Dobrinski went on. "He virtually dropped out of sight
after his discharge. So where he's been or what he's been up to between 1973
and now is a mystery. We can however, safely assume that he is the perp we're
looking for in connection with Victor's disappearance, and the other 9 deaths.
This surveillance photo of him was pulled off a security camera hidden under
the rafters at this pizza place." Dobrinski pointed to the photo of the
shop.
"It's located across the street from Ballard Park and one block down
from Mansfield's apartment. This image was recorded about 15 minutes before
Mansfield left the restaurant and crossed the street to the park. The
restaurant owner, a man named Samuel Chan, says that Victor comes in about 3
times a week. In fact, he'd even mistook the dead man from the park for
Mansfield once."
Mac asked, "Come up with a name on the dead look-a-like yet?"
Dobrinski shook his head no. He didn't bother to tell any of them that they
weren't even trying to I.D. that poor guy. The agency left that job up to the
police.
"Mr. Chan was working the night Victor disappeared, he said it was
really busy in the place and that Victor had come in and made his usual order.
He told Mansfield that it would be about a 20 minute wait so Victor said he
would come back. Mr. Chan saw him cross the street towards the park but, after
that he couldn't say. But Mr. Chan could confirm that he saw our suspect
hanging around for more than two weeks, he specifically recalled seeing Jack
earlier on in the evening of the night in question. Videotape confirms it."
Dobrinski clapped his hands together once and concluded, "So folks here
it is in a nut shell; Victor comes home late on Monday night and instead of
going up to his place, he, on an impulse, goes to the pizza joint for a bit of
take-out. Then decides to stroll around the park while waiting for his order.
And while there, this Jack guy somehow subdues Victor and carries him off to an
unknown hide-a-way to do to Victor, whatever it is freaks like him do."
Dobrinski nodded to Mulder, who stood up and walked over to the display
Dobrinski had laid out.
LiAnne asked sensibly, "Can we confirm he was even in the park? What
if he was snatched up by Jack from a waiting vehicle?"
"Victor's wallet was found by another agent this afternoon. It was
hidden in some tall grass near a bench. All the credit cards and cash were
accounted for," answered Dobrinski.
"Was it found by the same agent who came up with the surveillance
photos too?" snapped LiAnne rather haughtily.
Mulder was looking hard at LiAnne and wondering why she was acting so
bitchy. To Mulder she seemed like a spoiled child who was mad because she
could not get her own way. Scully would never behave in such a manner. Mulder
was having a hard time wondering exactly what it was that Victor had ever saw
in her in the first place. What did it matter who found what, as long as the
trail led back to Victor? He hoped that when it was time to go, LiAnne would
stay behind.
She's acting like this is a pissing contest. Silly cow.
LiAnne ignored the disproving looks that both Mac and Mulder were
giving her. Dobrinski nodded his head and said, "Yes. But I don't think a
vehicle is involved in this kidnaping. It takes too much time and effort to
have a vehicle. Besides it would leave to much of a paper trail."
Mulder cleared his throat as Dobrinski had settled himself on the
corner of the table. He began, "I used to work as a forensic psychologist in
the FBI'S Profiling Department. I'm trained to deal with serial killers along
with your usual run of the mill bad guys. In fact the weirder they are; the
better. It is easier to profile a person with a whole lot of kinks. But in
this case, seeing as how there aren't a lot of facts, the profile of this guy
is pretty slim. We missed a lot of important information the first time
around. Ironically this is the file that Vic..um..Agent Mansfield" Mulder
recovered quickly "...and I were working on last weekend." LiAnne's steely
stare did not go unnoticed by Mulder, but he chose to ignore her and focused in
on what he had to say.
"I'll start off by saying that Jack is your typical anti-social
loner; we know that by his solitary job in the marines and his lack of any real
history on paper. I would also venture to say that although he is gay, Jack
has never had a real relationship with a man or a woman. He's not interested
in having a normal relationship, it's not what he wants. Jack can't or won't
form lasting bonds with any one person.
Childhood abuse at some point during his life, is unfortunately, a given
in a case like this. And the answer to why he kidnaps, rapes and kills his
victims is easy; he is subconsciously doing the very same thing as was done to
him. Jack has become fixated on a certain look and age of his victims. All of
them representing his own victimizer. He is in fact killing the man who took
his parent's lives and caused him to be sent to a house where he was further
traumatized. Killing the man who killed his childhood and all the dreams that
went with it. I could delve deeper, but I think to go on further would only
bore you and waste valuable time that could be spent searching for..Agent
Mansfield." Mulder concluded his talk with a few more facts for the other two
agents. Both were paying very close attention to what he was saying.
The Director, who had been silent for the whole time, stood up from
her chair and walked over to the map that was pinned to the board. She grabbed
the pointer from Dobrinski and outlined some areas on the map. The Director
split the group into two teams: LiAnne and Dobrinski where given the north side
of the park and all the warehouses that went with it. Mac and Mulder, whom she
wisely determined would do better without LiAnne, were given the south side to
check out.
There were a few old houses still standing amongst some warehouses and
two storage facilities. If Dobrinski was correct in assuming that no vehicle
had been used, then the area directly around the park would be the most likely
place to start searching. She gave them their orders and then dismissed them.
The four of them left immediately to begin their jobs.
The Director went back to her computer and brought up the photo that
she had been looking at. It was a picture of Walter Skinner wearing a tank top
and black bicycle shorts.
Well, well, well Walter Skinner, I hope you're straight 'cause YOU and I
have to meet.
The Director smiled suggestively at the screen.
Victor rolled to his left side and tucked his cuffed wrists up under
that side of his chin, stretching out his long fingers up the unseen, left side
of his face so that he could get a hold of his earring. Though he was awake he
kept up the pretense of slumber. Re-adjusting himself onto his side allowed
him to keep up the charade in case he had an audience.
Jack could be watching him right now for all he knew.
Surreptitiously, he began to work on the silver hoop, pulling it
slowly out of his lobe when he had it undone. No movement showed on his body,
only his broad back rising and falling in regular intervals. To anyone who
might be looking, Victor would still appear asleep. He used his thumb and
forefinger to straighten out the thicker part of the main body of the circle.
And after he had that done, Victor opened his concealed left eye and began to
pick the lock to the metal bracelets while keeping his right eye closed.
He was glad now, that when he was training for the agency, they had
shown him several methods to picking all sorts of locks and bolts. After being
shown each way, he was drilled and timed in order to perfect the act of escape.
Fortuitous was the fact that these cuffs most likely came from a sex shop
featuring bondage gear. Their types of handcuffs were easy to get out of.
Even if they had they been real police issue however, Victor would have still
been able to escape from them; it would've just taken him longer. In only took
about half of a minute before he heard the soft "click" of the small lock
opening. He smiled inwardly as he very slowly, very carefully eased the metal
away from around his left hand then did the same to the right.
Victor put the handcuffs together so that they formed a single circle.
Then he slipped them over his left hand and held them tight in his clenched
fist like you would hold a set of brass knuckles. He held the straightened
piece of silver between thumb and finger on his right hand. He knew that if
Jack was watching him; he would only have a few seconds before Jack was in the
door trying to stop him. Victor would have to defend himself with one leg
chained if he failed to undo the last remaining restraint.
Well it's a start Victor shut his eye and mentally ran through opening up
the leg cuff.
He visualized the lock by picturing the size of the opening and where it
would be located exactly. When Victor felt confident that he could successfully
attack the lock, did he sit up. His tools were ready and he began to work as
swiftly as possible. Acutely aware of the imaginary clock in his mind, ticking
down the seconds.
When the door to his bar-less jail cell did not immediately fly open,
he was relieved. And taking a deep breath, Victor concentrated on trying to
pick the lock that imprisoned his leg. The strong bond was proving to be
slightly more difficult than the cheap manacles. But after another minute or
so of trying, the lock gave way and Victor heard the simple 'tick' of it's
release, it was music to his ears.
FREE at LAST!
Now all Victor had to do was wait for Jack to come to him, and when he
did, Jack would be the one regretting that he had dared to steal Victor away
from his friends and family.
Victor's Revenge, would be sweet.
He tucked the leg cuff under his pant leg to make it look like he was still
restrained, then he laid back down and waited for his oppressors return. Jack
was compulsive, Victor knew it was only a matter of time before he returned
wanting to hurt him again. Only this time he wouldn't be such an easy target..
And while he lay there Victor plotted his next move.
Part Six
Jack opened the door and entered the room. He smiled at the sight of
Victor's back; admiring his own handiwork that he had left behind. The once
pristine canvass of his captives broad back was now covered in bruises ranging
in color from deep purple to almost black. The beating had caused his flesh to
split wide open in about 10 places. A few of those welts had scabbed over but
others were still weeping slightly. The rest of the weals, about another 20 in
total, were raised and colored a deep, angry red. Dried blood had stuck to all
of the cuts, staining the flesh like macabre tear drops.
Jack could just make out the gash that the belt buckle had left behind on
Victor's right cheek bone; the accompanying black eye spreading in size down
his face. In Jack's sick and twisted vision, Victor was just beautiful and
just as desirable as he was when he had first been taken.
On the tray that he was holding was the next dosage of drugs along with a
few other goodies. Jack elbowed the door shut behind himself, but did not take
the time to lock it.
He was already getting hard with just the sight of the shackled man and
Jack rubbed at his crotch lewdly and licked his dry lips. The madman went over
to the small bed and knelt behind Victor. He ran a calloused hand over
Victor's bare shoulder and down his arm, saying huskily, "Wake up Victor, I
have a special treat in mind and it's for my pleasure only."
Oh, I just bet you do... Jack
Victor's eyes popped open. The moment he had been waiting for had
arrived. All Victor had needed was for Jack to get close enough to him so that
he would be able to use the metal knuckles that he had wrapped around his left
fist.
Suddenly, Victor whirled around leading with his left fist, sitting up as
he did so while balancing on his right hand. Jack was taken completely by
surprise as Victor's left fist connected with Jack's right eye. Victor felt
the orbital bone crunch under his knuckles.
Jack roared with the pain of having his cheek bone broken. Furious, he
clutched at his damaged eye as he leapt after Victor who was making a mad dash
for the door.
Victor yanked open the door, but he could see nothing on the other side
except dark nothingness. He was about to step out of the room and into the
unknown when Jack grabbed him around his waist with two strong arms and pulled
him down.
As Victor fell, he hit his forehead on the metal door knob, splitting a
large cut on his forehead where the roots of his hair met skin. Stunned by the
force of the blow, Victor somehow managed to work his way up to his hands and
knees. With his head hanging forward, and unaware that he was even cut, Victor
watched dazed, as his own blood which was running from the gash, formed a large
pool on the cement floor.
Staring spellbound into the puddle of crimson, Victor fought to reclaim his
senses.
Seething with rage, Jack planted his foot firmly at the small of Victor's
already abused back and pushed, using his thick thigh muscle to force the man
back down to his stomach.
Victor landed in an ungainly heap, his chin hit the hard cement floor and
his teeth bit into and cut his tongue deeply.
It was at that point that Jack sank down and straddled Victor's waist.
Grabbing him on either side of his hips, he flipped him over so that the agent
was face up.
Jack had planned on having sex with Victor, torturing him for a bit and
then killing him. But now he would have to forgo the sex and pain part of the
plan and jump right ahead to the killing part instead. Still atop of Victor,
Jack wrapped his hands around the trapped man's throat and began to choke the
agent while simultaneously banging his head against the hard cement floor.
Victor clawed at Jack's hands, frantically trying to break the grip of
death that held him down. Meanwhile, Jack continued to hit Victor's head again
and again against the floor. And blood, from the cut on his forehead, ran
into Victor's eyes impairing his already hazy vision even further. Victor
started seeing stars busting in front of his eyes and he had become
light-headed.
Instinctually, Victor knew that if he didn't do something right now to break
free of the hold Jack had on him, he would die.
So, in a last desperate attempt to save his own life, Victor stopped
fighting with Jack's hands and flung out his right arm. The tips of his
fingers touched the edge of the metal surgical tray and he immediately fought
for purchase of it. When his fingers finally had a hold of it, he pulled the
tray towards himself.
Dear God, he's going to kill me. Think Vic! THINK!
Victor gasped, all of his breath had left him now. His hand flew over the
items on the tray and in a last ditch effort, he snatched up what he thought
was perhaps a butter knife and plunged it, with all of might, between Jack's
ribs. Luckily for Victor, the butter knife turned out to be a surgical
scalpel and luckier still that the slim knife had slid between two ribs easily;
slicing through the flesh like it was warm butter.
The scalpel sank directly into Jack's beating heart, killing the man
instantly.
Jack's grip released automatically as his hands flew to the razor-sharp
scalpel sticking out from his rib cage. The look in his eyes was one of shock
and disbelief as he pulled the small knife out. He looked at the killing tool
in his hand and then back to Victor, who was still laying below him fighting
for oxygen; too disoriented to do or say anything else. Jack blinked once then
fell forward, landing directly on top of Victor, his fist still clenched around
the operating room instrument.
Victor was barely aware that he had actually prevented Jack from killing
him. And before he was able to fully comprehend that he was still alive,
Jack's limp body had fallen forward. The dead man's head smashing directly
onto Victor's.
The dead weight on top of him was just too much for Victor to take. He was
oxygen starved and concussed as well as being in a weakened state from the
loss of blood. The nasty cut across his forehead was still running freely.
Unable to withstand the impact when Jack's head knocked his and in the
instant after he had triumphed and killed his captor, Victor lost total
consciousness.
His world suddenly went from seeing stars to complete blackness.
Mulder and Mac drove in complete silence to their destination. Fox
Mulder, Mac soon discovered, was not a great conversationalist.
No wonder he and Victor are into each other.
Mac had tried several times to converse with the FBI agent, but all he got in
reply to his questions were monosyllabic answers or grunts. Finally Mac gave
up trying. Victor and Mulder were a perfect set of bookends in the young
agents opinion.
Mulder had no patience for idle chitchat. He thought that Mac was an ok
guy, though way more talkative than he preferred. He wasn't able to
concentrate on what Mac was saying to him; he was so focused in on Victor right
now. More specifically, on what was happening to Victor.
Vic... WHAT MUST he be going through?!
Mulder had visions of Victor being raped and tortured running around his
brain.
It's my fault
Mulder couldn't help but feel that if he had done a more thorough job on the
profile the first time around, when he had originally had the case, then this
wouldn't have happened. He cleared his throat and said quietly to Mac who was
now, just driving in a contemplative silence.
"Mac, you've known Victor along time. How is he in crisis situations?
How much stuh... " Mulder faltered slightly. He swallowed deeply and
continued, his eyes remaining straight ahead as if he was talking to the road
in front of them. "...stuff can he take?"
Mac glanced sideways at the Agent. He could see worry and self-doubt
written all over the man's face; despite the fact that he could only see him
from the side. There were small lines of concern fanning out from the corner
of the older man's left eye. Mulder was genuinely scared for Victor.
We'll find him, I know it
"Vic can look after himself. We've been trained to deal with hostage
situations. How to escape them; stuff like that, you know" Mac had wanted to
reassure Mulder and himself that Victor would be ok, but there was no real way
of knowing that.
He could be dead already. Stop it. You don't know that.
"Yeah," Mulder replied morosely, "But of those situations how many of them
taught you how to deal with a psychopathic sexual predator?" Mulder answered
his own question, "None I bet. You were no doubt trained to deal with
terrorists and mobsters..."
Mac interrupted Mulder's speech of doom by saying, "This isn't helping you
know. You were called here to give an expert opinion to help locate MY
Missing Partner. Now are you going to do that or are you going to plan his
funeral before we even know what's happened to him?" Mac had emphasized 'My
Missing Partner' and spoke more harshly than he had intended to. He had been
slightly jealous when Mulder showed up, but from what he had seen so far, The
Director could have saved some money and left Mulder at home instead. Mac was
not however, unsympathetic to how the FBI agent felt. If there had been any
doubt before, there was none now; it was obvious that Victor and Mulder had
been lovers and still were, in a way. Distance had not broken the emotional
bond between them.
Well I care too, god dammit! Mac drove on, wondering if the Great
One had anymore to add.
Pull yourself together, Mulder.
Mulder put his thoughts in order and turned in the car seat to face Mac
as the younger man drove. He picked up the file on Jack and began to leaf
through it.
"Well, judging by what we know about Jack, I would say that we are heading
in the right direction."
Curious, Mac answered with a simple, "Yeah, why?"
"Well when I left the Profiling Dept., some fellow employees who worked
the in the department were just starting to discover ways to profile a serial
killer by the location of the abduction and murder scenes as well as studying
the sites where the victims were dumped, that is if they were dumped. They
took in all the relevant and seemingly irrelevant surroundings and fed them
into the computer. The method of profiling a serial killer by studying his
environment is being improved upon every day. Jack, you see, needs an area big
enough to seek out the specific type of man that he wants. That's why he uses
the parks located in big cities. In good weather like this they are full of
potential victims just ripe for the picking. He zeros in on his next target
and watches him. Logically speaking the targeted man should live fairly close
to whatever park he frequents, right? It doesn't make sense to travel out of
your way. Unless of course you're going to a specific park for an activity
that is unattainable in the ones close to home. Am I making sense?" Mulder
asked of Mac.
"Yep, go on" Mac was intrigued with what Mulder was telling him. He had
never put that much thought into catching the bad guy before. The Director
would always just tell him where to go and he'd go, with guns blazing.
"Ok, so Jack spots Victor in the park one day, a totally random sighting
probably. Picks him out as a perfect match for the type of games he likes to
play but he's not alone or maybe he's in a crowd, whatever. No problem, he
simply follows Victor around. Sees that he lives nearby, watches him closely
and then bides his time until he can catch him alone and unaware. Ok, so he
manages to snatch Victor somehow, not even realizing that the man he has taken
is a resourceful Government Agent." Mulder's voice had some hope in it now.
"He won't be driving because it's too much of a hassle. He has to have Victor
stashed somewhere near his hunting grounds right?" Mulder asked the question,
not really seeking a answer, but in his peripheral vision he saw Mac nod in
agreement.
The other man was listening in rapt silence. "But wherever it is it has to
be... " Mulder held up a finger for each one of his points made, ... "One.
Close enough to carry a 185 lb man; Two, secluded enough that no one, even if
they're looking will find him; and Three... Soundproof enough to muffle the
screams of a man being tortured." The 3rd shook both men deeply. "Is there
any place like that in the neighborhood where we're looking?"
Mac had been totally absorbed by what Mulder was telling him. He thought
about the buildings and houses around the farthest edge of the park. For an
industrial area, it was still pretty heavily forested. And there was a small
rancher Mac recalled, that was tucked between two abandoned storage houses.
Just a good of place to start as any.
"Yeah, I think I know a house that might fit the bill." Mac looked at Mulder
when he said this, then he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal to accelerate
his BMW. He felt a hell of a lot more positive about a good outcome now than
he had 30 minutes ago. At least they had a place to start.
The agents parked their car about half a block up the street from the
location that Mac thought would be the most likely spot to start at.
In between two immense storage facilities that were no longer in use; a small
single story house was tucked away. The paint on the exterior was faded and
peeling and white Morning Glory had taken over the entire outside of the
building. Mac and Mulder exited the car at he same time, both men taking care
to shut their doors quietly. Neither one of them wanted to alert Jack (if he
was even there) to their presence. They drew their guns and Mac silently
motioned with his head towards the small vine covered dwelling. Mulder
followed Mac's gesture with his eyes and nodded in reply. Separating at the
car, each of them took a different route to the house. Mulder ran up the
street silently, ducking in behind large garbage bins and piles of refuse to
hide his presence. Mac, on the other side of the quiet street, did the same.
When they reached the edge of the property Mulder signaled that he would
go around back. Mac okayed and relayed that he would check out the front.
From where Mulder was standing he could just see the very top corner of
Victor's apartment building. The street they were standing on was on the outer
edge of the Southern side of the park, the area was heavily treed and hidden
away from prying eyes. The abandoned buildings all around ensured privacy.
Mac's right, this has to be the house.
This was a perfect hide-out to keep someone. The two men parted again, each
of them alert and holding their weapons in a ready to fire position.
Mulder crouched down low and quickly peeked around the corner. Nothing
there. He called on all of his training, peering around this and looking over
that. He did not want to be ambushed before he even entered the house. From
somewhere within the dwelling, Mulder could hear the thrum of a generator.
Mulder stood beside the door and held on to the knob, his heart pounding.
The area around the back yard showed signs of occupation-the grass was trampled
slightly and the Morning Glory had been cut away from the back door.
This must be where Jack is entering and exiting from.
Mulder heard a twig snap and he immediately froze; only his eyes moved,
sweeping them from side to side. The rush of adrenaline churned his insides
like a tidal whirlpool.
Mac turned the corner and was greeted by the muzzle of Mulder's 38. Mac
waved the gun away. Leaning in close to Mulder he whispered into his ear, "No
way to get in from the front. The door is nailed shut and so are the windows."
Mulder swept his head towards the back yard and whispered back, "Looks
like someone is coming and going from this way. Ready?"
Mac moved to the other side of the door across from Mulder, "Let's do it,"
he mouthed.
Mulder twisted the knob and opened the door while he squatted down low,
aiming his gun and looking at all angles through the door way. Mac did the
same, only he remained standing. The men entered the kitchen. Everything was
dusty and dirty, but there were dishes in the sink and food wrappers on the
counter. Someone had been here or was still here. Mulder opened up the old
fashioned refrigerator that no longer hummed with electricity. In it he found
several bottles of water sitting in a large pot of ice that was only half
melted.
Mac looked over Mulder's shoulder into the fridge and then whirled around
searching.
Someone WAS still here or why else the ice and water?
Mulder walked silently over to a wooden door that was closed. It had at
one time been painted white, but most of the paint had long since chipped away.
He grabbed the knob and started to open it very gently, wincing slightly when
it squeaked. Both men listened intently, but neither of them could hear sounds
of habitation. The door had a set of steep stairs hidden behind it that led to
some sort of a basement. Mulder pointed to himself and then the stairs,
indicating that he would check out downstairs. He pulled out a small palm-size
halogen flashlight from his overcoat pocket and turning it on, gun and light
together he descended the dark, narrow stairwell. Mac watched for a second
before going off on his own search of the rest of the main floor of the
seemingly deserted place.
When Mulder reached the bottom of the stairs, he swept the beam of his
flashlight all around, noting the grey cement walls. The silence in the
basement deafening him.
You wouldn't be able to hear a thing from the street with these walls.
Carefully, he searched for signs of life, surveying his surroundings and
memorizing them. An accurate knowledge of the area would come in handy in case
he had to make a run for it.
His powerful light caught a reflection of something metallic. While keeping
the beam of light on the object, he walked over and saw that there were several
surgical trays standing cluttered together in the corner. On top of one of the
trays there were medical instruments such as scalpels and tweezers.
What the hell?
On another tray Mulder saw packaged needles and rubber tubing mixed with
assorted drug related gear and on yet another tray he saw the most disturbing
items of all; handcuffs and a chain along with a leather ball gag.
Bondage paraphernalia?
The contents of the last tray alarmed Mulder Where's Victor? He has to be
here!
He left the trays and walked over to a table that resembled something you
would see in a operating room. Except that, the padded table had leg and arm
extensions, and on those extensions there were heavy leather restraints.
Was Victor strapped down to this table?
He shone the light up and down the table looking for...what? He didn't know.
Mulder's trained eyes spied several brown spots on the surface of the beige
colored padding ranging in size from a dime to approximately the diameter of a
soda can. Placing his flashlight down so that he could look closer at the
spots, he reached out with his left hand to touch them. Just as he suspected,
blood. Even though it was dry, any practiced agent could tell what it was,
Mulder had a sinking feeling that it was Victor's.
After not being to hear or see any signs that someone was still in the
basement and growing tired of the darkness, Mulder washed the walls with his
flashlight, looking for a switch or a fuse box. He found both so he walked
over to the switch and turned it on; only the basement seemed to be equipped
with lights.
Mulder expected to be bathed in brightness, but he was only greeted by a
single dim bulb hanging high over head of the empty table.
It'll do.
Mulder shut off his flashlight and took a closer look at his surroundings.
Stark and barren was what came to his mind first. Even with this little amount
of light he could see almost the whole basement. He looked up at the ceiling,
feeling reassured that he could still hear Mac creeping around upstairs.
Mulder scanned around, his eyes coming to rest on a small half door located
under the stairs.
Mulder's first thought was storage? then perfect for hiding!. Gun to
the ready, Mulder walked cat-like over to the little door.
Sinking to his haunches while with his back against the wall, he reached
out and flung open the door, sending the knob crashing into the opposite wall
of where he was crouched. A dull light washed out of the open door, pointing
his gun, Mulder turned quickly into the threshold and then stared, paralyzed by
what he saw...
Mac finished combing the main floor for signs of Victor. The only signs
that he had found which indicated that someone was living here was in one of
the bedrooms; there was a single mattress on the floor covered with a sleeping
bag and at the foot of the mattress there was a duffle bag. The total contents
inside the bag consisted of two complete changes of clothes, a Polaroid camera
with 6 pictures left on the film, 5 wrapped needles, Is this guy diabetic?,
and a box of un-lubricated condoms .
Condoms?
In the bathroom he found men's shaving effects, a very grubby towel, a face
cloth along with a toothbrush though no paste could be seen and a bar of
generic white soap.
The bathtub held three large containers of water. The bottles were similar
to the ones used in an office building. Mac assumed the water was for flushing
the toilet and washing. As he was finishing up his inspection, the agent spied
the corner of a manilla colored envelope peeking out from under the mattress.
He squatted down and pulled it out, dumping its contents on the gray sleeping
bag. Mac stared at the items, then picked up a stack of the instant photo's
and looked through them, studying the pictures.
All of the Polaroids were of Victor. Victor leaving his apartment
building, Victor entering his building, Victor coming out of shops or just
standing still waiting at a cross walk. Several of them were taken in the
park. Even a few of the photos had Mulder in them. In those, Mulder's face
had been scribbled over with blue ink, but Mac could still tell it was the FBI
Agent. All of the pictures had been snapped during daylight hours. Mac
guessed that Jack wouldn't risk using a flash bulb; Victor would notice
something like that. He wondered briefly where Jack had hidden to take these;
some of the shots were taken at a very close distance.
He put the Polaroids carefully back in the envelope. In every one Victor was
either smiling (the Mulder shots) or was straight-faced and serious (the alone
shots). In Mac's opinion, Vic looked nothing less than stunningly handsome in
all of them.
Could he even take a bad picture?
With a pang of longing, Mac pushed away his inappropriate thoughts of Victor.
Taking the envelope with him, he left the bedroom and passed through the
kitchen.
There was no doubt in Mac's mind now that this was where Jack had been
staying. When he reached the top of the stairs he heard a crash. Mac threw
the envelope onto the counter top and drew his weapon. Suddenly, he heard
Mulder yelling out his name with urgency, telling him that he had found Victor
and to call 911. Mac holstered his gun and started down the stairs taking two
at a time while pulling out his cell phone...
Mulder was staring at Victor through yet another doorway, only this one
was full-sized. He was laying flat on his back with blood covering most his
face, as well as having a large pool of it underneath his head. The scarlet
liquid spreading out from underneath him to form a imperfect circle about one
foot in diameter. From his position, Mulder was also able to see that Victor
had blood all over his bare chest as well.
OH MY GOD!
There was a man lying on top of Victor, Jack, Mulder assumed, covering most
of the agent's body. The guy seemed to be bleeding too. Though it felt like
minutes to Mulder, it actually had taken him only a couple of seconds to absorb
the grisly scene and then shout for Mac, "MAC. MAC COME QUICK! IT'S VIC, CALL
911!
Part Seven: Allies and Enemies
Mac reached the bottom of the rickety stairs at the same time as he pushed
an unmarked button on his cell phone. The pre-programmed number dialed through
to the Agency's infirmary/emergency room automatically. Mac had phoned this
number only once before; the last time was when Victor had been shot and at the
same time, LiAnne had called out rather dramatically, that she had broken her
leg. The phoned beeped through and was answered on the first ring.
"What's the emergency Mac?" asked a male voice.
Mac thought the operator must of have call display because he did not
recognize the calm masculine voice that spoke to him. Because reception was
fuzzy already, Mac had to squat in the frame of the small half-door and recite
what he was seeing. His task was impaired by Mulder, who was rolling a body
that look like Jack's off of an unconscious Victor, thus blocking his view in
the process.
Mulder glanced quickly over his shoulder, acknowledging Mac with a look before
turning back to start checking to see if Victor was still alive.
Mac could not believe all the blood that he was seeing and he hoped to God
that it wasn't all Victor's. Swallowing down the lump in his throat Mac said
a lot more calmly than he felt, "It's Victor, he's down. Yes again!" He
impatiently snapped into the phone.
Mac pulled out his key chain as he talked and depressed a small yellow button
on his automatic lock/unlock device for his car; thereby setting off his
location beacon so that the medic-team could find them.
"There's a lot of blood. I don't know what happened to him." It was then
that Mac caught a glint of silver lying on the floor. Seeing the scalpel
covered in blood, Mac's eyes widened and he uttered in panic into the phone,
"Shit, I think he's been stabbed! Hurry up and get a team out here! Okay,
were in a small house between the old Atlas and North Shore storage houses.
It's covered in green plant stuff... I don't know ! Christ I'm not a fucking
botanist!"
Mac was distressed over Victor's condition. He wanted to be in there
helping Mulder, who was glancing his way wide-eyed and yelling "Hurry
up." Not answering questions about what kind of ivy was growing out
front. "Look, I gotta go; Agent Mulder needs my help. It's the only house on
this street for Christsake's. They can't miss it!" Frustrated Mac hung up on
the man on the other end, before another stupid question could be posed to
him.
After Mulder had shouted for Mac to come and help, he re-holstered his own
gun and scrambled into the hidden room. Climbing right over the prone men, he
began pulling Jack off of Victor. Mulder looked up when he heard Mac on the
phone asking for help. He could hear Mac shouting and saw that the other man
seemed to be arguing with someone.
Isn't he supposed to be talking to 911?
Mulder turned to him and yelled a panicky, "Hurry up." Grunting, he finally
managed to pull Jack off of Victor and drag the limp body a few feet away.
Being partnered with a medical doctor in certain situations had its
advantages; this was one of those instances.
Mulder, who had seen Scully perform the same procedure hundreds of times,
stuck two shaky fingers up against Victor's carotid artery. Relief washed
through him when he felt a strong but fast pulse rate. He grabbed a small
white cloth that was laying near a tray and hastily folded it up and pressed
the material to Victor's forehead, trying to stop the cut from bleeding out
more. Mac, in the meantime, had put away his phone and was crawling over to
where Mulder and Victor were.
Seeing that Mulder seemed to have apparently forgotten that there was
another wounded man in the room, Mac scurried over to Victor's captor and felt
for a pulse at the neck, the same way as Mulder had done. Mac didn't do this
out of sympathy for another injured person, for all he cared the man could be
dying right in front of his eyes, Jack would not receive any help from either
one of the agents. He was only checking to see if Jack was still alive out of
necessity; presumed "dead" people sometimes tended to rear up at just the wrong
moments. Mac had no wish to be shot or stabbed in the back; one casualty was
enough.
"He's dead," Mac announced indifferently.
"GOOD!" Replied Mulder after Mac informed him of Jack's death.
Saves me the trouble of killing him.
Mac came over and knelt down on the other side of Victor, sitting across
from Mulder he asked hesitantly, "Victor..Is he...?" With all that blood on
him it was hard for Mac to tell
"He's alive." Mulder replied monotone, it was really all Mulder could do
to keep his emotions on a tight leash. He wanted to pick Victor up and hug him
close and cry for joy that he was still alive, but Mulder could hardly do that
in front of the man's partner. So instead he tried to act professionally
detached. "I think he's only unconscious, at least I hope he isn't comatose.
Most of the blood seems to have come from Jack over there." Mulder pointed
unnecessarily towards the corpse.
He looked directly into Mac's deep brown eyes and continued on, blinking
back his emotions. "The only open wound I can see is the cut right here."
Mulder removed the makeshift bandage and lifted what little bangs Victor had,
showing Mac the cut. It had stopped streaming blood and was now just dripping
at a slow pace. Two large tear-shaped drops broke away, slowly sliding down
the right temple of the motionless Victor.
Mac stared down onto the face of the man, who in the beginning, he had
tried to hate, but never really could. They had grown closer over time and
forged their own bond of friendship above and beyond LiAnne. Looking down
now at the battered face of his best and only friend, Mac was speechless.
Trying to describe his feelings was impossible. Victor looked so young and
vulnerable. His usual scowl was smoothed out and if Mac hadn't known better he
would have thought that he was merely asleep. Mac supposed, that in a way, he
was. The torture Victor had endured in his captivity was evident. From the
pair of blackened eyes to the purplish-red skin burn ringing his neck; Victor
was a mess. Mac also thought he saw a large hickey next to a bite mark on
Victor's chest, but he couldn't be positive because of all of the blood that
was on Victor obscured his view. Mac tore his eyes away from Vic and looked
to Mulder for confirmation of the surface damage done to his partner. What he
saw was a pair of hazel eyes that were shiny with unshed tears. Mac quickly
averted his gaze back down to Victor and pretended not to notice what he had
seen.
Mulder was not ashamed of his feelings for Victor, but he did however,
think that Victor would not be impressed to have him crying over his body
either. So After a minute Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose and quickly
swiped at the corners of his eyes. Giving a wet sniff Mulder ran his hand
over Victor's torso and continued on with his amateur check-up of his
condition. "His chest's fine. He's hasn't been stabbed anywhere that I can
see or feel at least. I don't know exactly what this guy did to him, but
Victor took one hell of a beating, that's for sure," Mulder said sadly. He
gently ran his finger tips over the now scabbed over cut on Victor's right
cheek bone.
You poor bastard, what did he do to you?
"Judging by the bruises," Mulder pointed to the extensively damaged areas on
the neck, "Jack must have been choking him and somehow Victor managed to grab
the blade over there and stick it in him." Mulder kept thinking of Scully and
what she would do.
Check out the rest of him, that's what.
"Here." Mulder said to Mac. "Help me roll him over. On the count of three,
push him my way. Ready?"
Mac nodded and said "Yep." Mulder counted down and on three Mac gently
pushed the unconscious man towards Mulder's lap. Mulder caught and held
Victor's position. Neither man was ready for what he saw. Mac gasped and
exclaimed loudly, "Holy Shit!"
Mulder put one hand to his mouth and swore emphatically. "FUCK !" The
ruined condition of Victor's once beautiful back shocked the hell out of him.
Mulder considered himself to be a hardened agent, he had seen a lot of violence
in his years at the bureau, but to see violence, like this, committed against
someone he cared about, was another story. It was not so easy to deal with
when you know the victim.
Mac didn't need Agent Mulder to tell him that Vic had been beaten with a
belt and that the buckle had been the culprit in creating so much ruin.
Unfortunately, Mac had once been on the receiving end of a beating with a
leather belt; actually, more than once. The bruises on his partner's back were
still deepening in colour and some of the welts still bled and wept. Mac knew
from experience that cleaning those wounds would with out a doubt hurt the
most.
Mulder stared unblinking, wishing that Jack was alive so he could kill him
all over again himself. He looked at his wristwatch and then snapped at Mac,
"Where the hell is the ambulance? You did call 911 right?"
The look on Mac's face told it all; of course he hadn't called 911, "NO, I
called the agency." He looked at his own watch and saw that 12 minutes had gone
by already; they should be here soon. "It's policy to look after our own. The
chopper will be here any minute." After receiving a hard glare from Mulder,
Mac added, "A doctor and a medic-team will be flying in to look after him.
It's better than the hospital. Trust me." As if on cue, both Mac and Mulder
heard the door upstairs being crashed in and then heavy footsteps overhead.
"RAMSEY!" Shouted an unfamiliar voice.
"Down the stairs" Shouted Mac. He reluctantly left Victor's side to
guide the medical team to where they were.
Mulder maneuvered himself so that Victor's head was in his lap but was
still resting on his left side. Taking advantage of Mac's brief absence Mulder
ran his fingers through the hair on the top of Victor's head while whispering
to him softly that everything was going to be alright now.
No thanks to me.
Mulder was overflowing with guilt. He heard a soft moan and saw that Victor
had opened up his blackened right eye and was looking up at him.
"Fox, is that really you?" Victor asked, his voice low and raspy.
"It's me." Mulder smiled down at the man in his lap, not even noticing
that a fat tear had left his eye and landed in Victor's short hair. He ran the
tip of his finger gently over the parts of the younger man's face that were not
battered.
Victor returned Mulder's smile with a small, shaky grin of his, this one,
showing none of his teeth. "I knew someone would come for me. But I thought
it would be Mac and LiAnne." Victor saw the anxiety in his lovers eyes, "Don't
worry Fox, I'll be okay." Victor raised his arm and gripped Mulder's wrist,
trying to re-assure the man as much as himself.
Mulder chuckled softly and ran his finger lightly over Victor's battered
lips, "Mac's here. Directing your rescue squad. God, I should be trying to
make you feel better, not the other way around." Mulder chided himself.
Victor blinked twice. He felt like he was going to pass out again, he
spoke in a half whisper to Mulder, "I want you to be there at the hospital
when I wake up Fox. Promise me."
"I promise, Vic. I will."
Victor finally allowed himself to shut his eyes and he blacked out again, with
Mulder still cradling his head.
Mulder's fingers could feel a large lump on the back of Victor's head and
he worried that Victor might have a concussion. He was relieved when the
Doctor and his team finally rushed into the room with all of the necessary
equipment. Mulder gently pulled himself out from under Victor and lay his head
on the small pillow that came with the portable stretcher. He stood up and
backed away a few steps, then left the room. Standing side by side, shoulder
touching shoulder with Mac, both men watched silently as the efficient medical
crew assessed Victor's condition. After a moment Mac pulled out his cell phone
and dialed the Director's number to let her know what was going on.
Mulder, Mac and LiAnne all impatient, hung around the waiting room of
the Agency's infirmary. Victor was safely ensconced behind two opaque,
rippled glass doors, but they were not allowed to go in to see him; the
watchdog receptionist at the counter by the doors saw to that. So close and
yet so far away. No one had bothered to come out to tell them anything
either.
Mulder was pacing the short distance between the doors leading to Victor
and the clear glass doors that lead to a long hall way. Back and forth he
went, counting off the 6 paces mentally, had his strides been shorter it would
have been 8 steps. He would reach the end and then spin around on his heel and
walk back to where he had come from, repeating the process over and over again.
His pacing was driving LiAnne crazy, but she said nothing. She only glared
at him, shooting him full of imaginary bullets.
Mulder, of course took no notice of her or her angry stare. He only had
time for thoughts of Victor and Victor alone. He kept going over all of the
what ifs again and again.
Mac chose to pass the time by sprawling sideways in an overstuffed chair
with his eyes closed, going over tai-chi moves in his head. The imaginary
tai-chi also helped to calm himself.
The three of them had already been waiting there for over two hours.
Victor had been flown in by the Agency's chopper; the journey taking only 15
minutes. Mac and Mulder had to drive back on their own, it was mostly a
silent trip that took them only 40 minutes to drive. Arriving at the agency a
full 20 minutes faster then it had originally took them to get to Jack's
hideaway. Mac, had broken every speed law and ignored every road sign possible
just to get back as fast as he could, not knowing that they wouldn't even be
able to see Victor right away any ways.
LiAnne had joined them shortly after their arrival at the infirmary, she
had come with Dobrinski. But he had left her waiting there with the other two
men while he went off to find the Director.
Mac had began to contemplate going to look for the Director on his own, when he
saw her marching down the hall with Dobrinski by her side.
Dobrinski held the glass door open for her and followed her in.
"What's going on with Victor? Anyone know?" The Director looked at all
three of them, waiting for her question to be answered. All three agents
shrugged their shoulders in time with their head shakes.
LiAnne spoke first, "No one knows a thing. According to Darla over
there..." The receptionist at the desk looked up at the mention of her name
but then went back to her own work when she saw that she was not involved in
the conversation, "...He's still being examined. No one will talk to us, and
we aren't allowed in to see him," LiAnne said petulantly.
"Yeah" Mac chimed in after, "No info, no entrance. Typical Agency
procedure." He rolled his eyes and looked from the Director to Mulder who,
Mac was glad to see, had stopped pacing but obviously did not plan on adding to
the conversation.
"Well," the Director stated firmly, "I'll go see what's going on. Wait
here."
Not that the three of them had any choice in the matter.
Marching purposefully, The Director disappeared through the doors leading into
the examining rooms. Dobrinski remained behind to wait with the three of them.
She returned a few minutes later with a pleasant-faced man with deep brown skin
who looked to be in his late 30's. The Director introduced the man as Dr.
Anwar, and judging by his soft accent, Mulder placed him as having come from
Jamaican descent. After the introductions were done Dr. Anwar got down to
business.
He flipped open the metal clip board that held Victor's medical charts and
recited the results to the expectant crowd, "Well first off let me tell you
that Mr. Mansfield is going to be ok." Dr. Anwar noticed the look of relief
that showed on everyone's face. "He has a mild concussion that will leave him
with a headache for a few days, but there should be no lasting damage as a
result. He was awake, by the way, for the exam.
As for his other injuries: there is no permanent damage to his windpipe
beyond a hoarse throat and a friction burn mixed in with a whole cluster of
bruises that will last up to a couple of weeks."
The Doctor looked up from his chart and saw that everyone was listening
intently to every word he said. Flipping the page he looked down to his own
notes and continued on, "We stitched up the cut in the hairline on his
forehead. It was fairly deep and took 12 of my best sutures to close it up.
But there won't be a visible scar when it's all healed, and the small
laceration on his cheek took...lemme see..." He flipped to yet another page,
"...Oh here it is, 4 stitches to close. Unfortunately and depending on how
well his skin heals, he will have a small scar from that. Nothing too
noticeable though."
Dr. Anwar smiled and said lightly, "I told him it would just add some
character to his face. Um.., the welts on his back were another matter, open
weals can very nasty. Victor says that they were the result of his being
strapped with a leather belt and buckle. The marks should heal on their own
and we cleansed them all..." Mac inwardly winced at the mention of the
cleansing of the open cuts, "...and bandaged up the ones that were the worst.
The rest just needed to be air dried."
The Doctor coughed lightly into his hand before scanning over his chart
again. He finally closed it, the pages hitting together made a soft clapping
noise. "Now along with the blackened eyes and various other minor bumps and
bruises that will heal in time, his overall blood stores needs to be built up
again. Agent Mansfield needs to eat a diet of foods high in iron over the
next few days. In consideration of his shrunken stomach and the state of
dehydration he's in, I would recommend supplementing what little he can eat
with multi-vitamin tablets containing iron. He can go home tomorrow morning."
"But," the Doctor's tone of voice turned more serious, "...there's
something else you should know. Even though Agent Mansfield denies being
sexually assaulted by anal penetration—and the rape kit I performed on him
backs up his claim—I think there is enough evidence to prove that something
did happen. Exactly what, I can't say for sure. He was very tight-lipped
about the whole ordeal."
"What exactly are you getting at Doctor?" Everyone standing there was
thinking the same question but it was Dobrinski who asked it.
"What I mean is that even though he wasn't raped in the traditional sense,
sexual assault may still have occurred . He has several bite marks on his
chest and a few hickey like marks that are a couple of days old."
Mulder's eyes widened with the last comment. He hoped that the hickeys the
Doctor were referring to were the one's made by him.
Dr. Anwar looked to the Director and said to her, "Mr. Mansfield had at
first adamantly refused our suggestion to perform a rape kit. He argued
vigorously against it, but knowing the perp's history and with Victor being
drugged and unconscious for some of his time in captivity, I insisted on
running those tests. Just in case. I also ran a complete drug screen after I
found the two puncture marks on the inside of his elbow...he came up positive
for heroin, and a trace amounts of a drug known to knock you un-conscious .
Victor claims that he was only injected twice with the heroin, and judging
by the fact that he has shown no signs of de-toxing from the drug, it's safe to
assume that he is in no danger of becoming a habitual user. He did say that
both times the needles were from fresh packages. The knock out drug entered
his system when he was first taken, that's how your perp managed to grab
Victor. Also, I did an HIV test, with his permission of course, but I think
his risk of exposure was minimal. He will receive the results when they come
back... in confidence of course."
That last thing Mac would have thought those needles he found were for
shooting Victor up with drugs.
So that's what the needles were for!
The Director nodded her head in affirmation of what the Doctor had told
her. "When can he go back to work?" If this cold attitude shocked the Doctor
he did not let on.
"Well, to be honest ma'am, he shouldn't even be going home tomorrow. I
told him that he would need 2 or 3 days in the infirmary to recover, then
another week at home after that. But he insisted on going home tomorrow
morning." The Doctor smiled before continuing, "He even said that he had
friends who would help him sneak out if I didn't let him go, he intimated to me
that they were trigger happy..."
The Doctor did laugh at that point then commented on Victor having a "big
pair of cojones to threaten an Agency Doctor."
"Give him a week off his feet then he can go back to light, desk duty."
Recommended the doctor.
All five people listening knew that Victor would not like desk duty one bit.
But the Director called the shots and she personally did not care what Victor
would or would not like.
"He'll need a full psych exam and work up. Two weeks of recovery time should
be enough for him; that is if Victor feels rested by then and if his
psychiatrist approves. I must reiterate that it's important that you make him
go and talk to one of the agency's shrinks about what happened. It's been in
my experience that one does not just recover psychologically overnight from the
ordeal such as Mr. Mansfield has been through. Now if you'll excuse me I must
get back to work. "
"Fine, I make sure he sees an agency head doctor. Thank you, Dr. Anwar."
The Director turned to her right-hand man and said, "Let's go Dobrinski. Mac,
LiAnne, I need you in the office tomorrow morning, 10:00 am sharp. Mr. Mulder,
it was nice meeting you. You can go home any time." The Director went up to
Mulder and reached out to shake his hand.
When he complied she grabbed a hold of him and pulled him close; so close
in fact that Mulder thought she was going to kiss him. Mulder leaned back
slightly. The Director laughed and whispered quietly in his ear, "Take care of
Victor. See that he gets back to his place tomorrow in one piece. After what
he's been through, I'm sure he'll need a good psychologist to help him make it
through the night." The Director backed away and turned to Dobrinski and with
a nod of her head they left.
Mulder watched the Director walk away, wondering what her game was. With
all of her innuendo and sly comments, she obviously thought she knew something
about him and Victor. Exactly what Mulder wasn't sure. Either way it was
really none of her business.
Before Dr. Anwar left the waiting area he asked, "Which one of you is
named Fox Mulder?"
Slightly surprised, Mulder answered with, "That'll be me."
"Well can you come with me? Victor's been asking for you," said the
Doctor amicably.
"What about us? We Are HIS partners," Mac stated emphatically. "I need
to see him too."
"Me too." LiAnne piped in, jealous of Mulder.
"Sorry," the Doctor replied, "but one visitor at a time is enough for now.
He'll be discharged first thing in the morning; you can go and see him at his
home after that. He'll be fine, honestly," The Doctor added when he saw the
worried faces of the other two Agents.
Mulder, who managed to look guilty even though he didn't feel it, said to
Mac before he left with the Doctor, "I'll call you if anything changes, Ok?"
"Alright. Tell Vic we'll call on him tomorrow at home and see how he's
doing," answered Mac glumly.
"Ok, I will. Promise." Mulder turned and walked away with the Doctor. As
he was going through the doors he heard LiAnne call him an asshole under her
breath.
Mulder ignored her remark and thought what a bitch.
As soon as the thick glass doors closed behind Mulder, got the instructions of
how to get to Victor's room and then went there immediately. He needed to see
the man who made him feel good, even when his life was falling apart all around
him.
Mulder entered the plain hospital room. Glancing at the clock on the
wall, Mulder was a little amazed to see that it read 10:00 PM.
Already? Where did the time go?
Dr. Anwar had warned him that Victor had been given a mild sedative, so coming
into the quiet room and seeing Victor asleep did not surprise him very much.
Victor was asleep on his stomach and he looked peaceful. His face was relaxed;
no lines of worry crossed the bridge of his nose or his forehead and Mulder
thought that he looked beautiful, black eyes not with standing.
There was a nurse checking on his vitals when Mulder arrived. She smiled
warmly at him and asked, "Mr. Mulder?" Mulder nodded in assent. "Good, Mr.
Mansfield has been asking about you. He will want you to be here when he wakes
up. Buzz if you need anything." The pretty nurse handed Mulder a pillow and a
green cotton blanket and pointed out a padded chaise lounge chair that was in
the upright position. She said Good night to him and then left.
Mulder waited until the door had and the soft footsteps faded away before
pulling the chair right to the edge of the hospital bed. He did not sit down
immediately. All of the events that had unfolded during day had finally caught
up with him and suddenly he felt exhausted. But before getting some of his own
much needed rest, Mulder bent over and kissed Victor on his cheek lightly. He
let his lips linger over the soft, sweet smelling skin beneath, noting in
passing that somewhere along the line someone had bathed the sleeping agent.
Finally, Mulder sank into the chair heavily, blinking back his tears. His
motions were not unlike what he had done at Scully's bedside, when in sheer,
overwhelming joy, he had wept over her prone form upon finding out that her
cancer had disappeared.
Worn out, he placed both hands on Victor's left arm and rested his head between
them. Then he silently wept, relieved that he was here at his new lover's
bedside instead of at his grave side.
Part Eight: Nightmares and Night terrors
LiAnne jammed the key into the lock, opened up her apartment door, and then
kicked it shut behind herself. She was very pissed off that she had not been
allowed to stay behind with Victor. She couldn't believe that her former fiancé`
would choose Mulder over her or Mac even.
That guy must have some sort of hold on Vic.
She had every intention of going to see Victor in the morning to find out just
what exactly, was going on. LiAnne already made up her mind that she was going
to have a talk with Victor; she wanted to see how he felt about the possibility
of them getting back together.
LiAnne walked down the unlit hall to her bedroom. Once there she quickly
stripped down and wrapped a towel around herself. After running a hot bath she
scented the water with her favorite, sandalwood bath oil. And after a long,
comforting soak in the perfumed water, LiAnne decided to turn in for the
night.
Sleep did not come easily for LiAnne, and when it finally claimed her, the
slumber was restless and her dreams were vivid—
LiAnne, dressed in a very sensible beige 3-piece suit, stopped in front of
the door to her apartment. After a few seconds of hesitation, she grabbed the
knob and turned it.
"Strange..." she thought to herself, "...the door's locked."
Which is unusual since her fiancé should be home by now. Being the
considerate man that he is, Victor usually leaves the door open for her, knowing
she'll be arriving shortly after him. Today however, LiAnne is coming home a
little bit late, after a hard day at the office.
Managing to fish out her own key, LiAnne let herself in. And as she entered,
the exhausted woman called out, "Honey, I'm home!" Crossing over to the kitchen
counter, she deposited her briefcase on top of it and called out again, "Victor,
are you here?" Only this time a little louder.
Leaving the kitchen area. LiAnne sees that Victor's leather jacket and gun
holster are hanging on the brass coat rack. Thinking that he must be in the
shower, LiAnne started down the thickly carpeted hall, wondering as she walked,
why there is a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom. In fact, LiAnne finally
notices, there are two sets of clothing leading the way: two t-shirts, two pairs
of socks and so on.
Once she had reached the entrance to the master bedroom, LiAnne hesitantly
pushed the partially cracked door all the way open. And what she saw in her
bedroom shocked her.
There are two men in her bed and both are naked. One of the men is Fox Mulder,
who is presently stretched out on top of Victor—her fiancé—and
kissing him passionately. Mulder rolled off of Victor when he heard LiAnne's
startled gasp and rested easily on one elbow; palm under his chin and cheek.
He smirked up at her while at the same time idly running the tips of his
fingers over Victor's bare chest. Mulder was totally unconcerned about being
caught in bed with Victor, and he knew full well that his presence was
intentionally provoking her.
LiAnne, frozen by the scene, can do nothing but continue to stare in silent
incredulity.
After a second, Mulder stopped smirking and asked her malevolently, "Something
the matter, LiAnne?"
"What the hell are you doing? In my bed with my fiancée?" She
finally demanded, trying not to sputter too much as she spoke. By emphasizing
the possessive pronoun 'my', she is attempting to tell Mulder that he owns
neither.
Back to smirking again, Mulder replied cheekily, "I think it's fairly obvious.
Don't you?"
Now her anger is unleashed, and feeling nothing but contempt for the F.B.I.
agent, LiAnne yelled, "Get out right now! Victor doesn't want you! He
still loves me!"
"Nooo... LiAnne, that's where you're wrong, he used to love you. Now he
loves... me." Mulder's pleasure in tormenting her was obvious.
"That's not true," she countered hotly, knowing that she is defeated any ways.
"Yes it is. The minute Mac came to town you tossed Victor away like
yesterday's leftovers. You broke his heart, LiAnne. And I'm in the process of
mending it for him." The man was gloating by throwing the ugly truth back in her
beautiful face.
"But... but... Victor what about me?" LiAnne made her plea directly to Victor,
who has been laying on his back with his arms folded under his head, remaining
silent for the whole impassioned exchange.
She watched silent, as Victor looked to Mulder first and then smiled up at the
American agent. She continues to stare as he bats his long, dark lashes up at
his lover; green eyes glowing with contentment. Victor sighed, then looking back
to her, he cut the smiling out and set his mouth into a hard line. His eyes
remained cold and unemotional when he spoke to her.
"You blew it, LiAnne. I gave you everything I had and you threw it away. We're
just friends now. Nothing more."
As if having to say all that has exhausted him, Victor rolled over, onto his
stomach and closed his eyes. Promptly falling back asleep.
Mulder spoke to LiAnne, no longer hiding the hostility in his voice, "Face the
facts sweetie, he doesn't want you any more. You're old news." Mulder reached
over and began to stroke Victor's back; the white sheet covering him only to his
waist. Gloating over his triumph, Mulder bent his head and just before he
planted a kiss on Victor's shoulder blade he hissed, "Now leave us alone, and
don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." Not waiting for her to
reply, Mulder continued on with his intended task, and kissed Victor, all over
his back.
Rejected and hurt, LiAnne backed out of the bedroom, unable to take her eyes
off of the two men. Because she wasn't watching where she was going, LiAnne
accidentally backed into the door frame. Knocking her already aching head
against it hard.
The jolt of hitting her head in the dream forced LiAnne to wale from her
sleep. Rolling over, she punched her pillow into the perfect thickness. And
laying back down, she angrily mumbled, "Mulder, you're such an asshole."
Mac stepped out of the shower and toweled dried his short spiky hair. He still
couldn't believe that Victor had asked to see Mulder over LiAnne and him.
So okay, they're lovers after all, but still.
Mac was exhausted, he had been on an emotional roller coaster ever since his
partner's disappearance. The huge adrenaline rush of the day's events had left
him feeling as if someone picked him up and wrung him out like an old dishrag.
Mac wiped the fog off of the mirror and started shaving. All the while, he could
not help but feel that he had already been given his chance with Victor and
blown it.
But damn it! How was he to know that Victor was into guys as well? Of course,
all of the harmless flirting that they had done in the past made sense,
now. But at the time, Mac felt that perhaps he was just seeing what he
wanted see and hearing what he wanted to hear. And in the end, he had chalked up
the several flirtatious episodes he had experienced with Victor to his own
wishful thinking.
Now that Mulder was in the picture, Mac would never find out if he and Victor
could have made a real go of it.
LiAnne would've really hated that anyway.
Contrary to the popular belief, Mac, in his infinite pride, did not believe in
cheating with a person who was already spoken for. Therefore and unfortunately,
Victor was rendered off-limits to him...for now. However, he figured that all he
would have to do was just sit and wait, biding his time until another
opportunity came along. And if that occasion should ever come up, Mac would not
be so foolish as to let it slip by him again. He removed his robe and crawled
naked into his large bed.
Mulder has to go home sometime.
Was Mac's last thought before drifting off...
The blinds were closed in Mac's living room and the lights had been set
on a very cliched low. Two large black wrought iron candelabras'' were
standing nearby, each holding their capacity of 6 white pillar candles. All 12
candles were lit, throwing off flickers of light, making shadows dance on the
modernly plain white walls.
Victor, who is sitting on the love seat, is curiously looking at the
surroundings around him. He gazed at the candles and then to the only light that
is on all the way in the room; a small pot light highlighting a modern oil
painting. The music in the playing in the background is lyrical soft. Bryan
Adams is singing that Everything I do, I do it for you...
Victor called out to his partner, "I thought we were just going to catch up on
paperwork. How come it looks like all the trappings of a date?"
Seconds later, Mac emerged from the depths of his kitchen carrying two full
wine glasses in one hand and a ridiculously expensive-looking receptacle holding
the liquid in the other. Handing a glass to Victor he set the bottle on the
coffee table.
Victor accepted the offered spirits and sipped from the crystal tentatively. It
was obvious that he was a bit nervous and Mac standing over him watching him
drink the wine isn't helping. Victor swallowed and smiling shyly, he looked up
at Mac. With big green eyes accentuated by dark, dark lashes he said in a low
tone. "Thanks."
Victor has no idea what effect his smile and his demure gaze has on his male
partner. Mac dropped into a spot on the love seat, right next to Victor,
intentionally invading his personal space. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the
older man's natural essence, a scent that was uniquely Victor; citrus mixed in
with his cologne.
Breathing in the heady aroma has left Mac with a feeling of aggressiveness and
the desire to control. Deciding that he had done enough waiting for Victor to
come around and see him for what he was; a potent lover and not simply
his partner. Mac shifted himself even closer still to Victor. He reached out
and plucked the wine glass from Victor hand. He set the two glasses down heavily
next to the bottle and then pushed himself almost on top of a very surprised
Victor. Forcing the other man to retreat backwards to avoid his blatant
advances.
"What are you doing Mac?," Victor managed.
Mac has Victor trapped between his own body and the padded armrest of the
small couch. Victor in an attempt to stand, pushed himself up using his elbows
as leverage, but the maneuver fails to succeed as Mac grabs a handful of the
green shirt that he is wearing—a personal favorite of Mac's—and pulls him
back down with a hard jerk.
When Victor opened his mouth to protest, Mac covered his mouth with his own
and obscenely shoved his tongue inside, kissing him roughly and bruising his
lips. Victor tried moving his head from side to side to escape the brutal
kisses, but Mac holds him firm. Mac used one hand to pin Victor's wrists
together and with the other, he reached down with the other to reef out the
tucked-in shirt from Victor's jeans.
Victor after some struggling, managed to free his wrists and tried to push Mac
off of himself. But the effort, though valiant, is in vain because Mac has
already succeeded in getting Victor's shirt open by ripping it viciously,
scattering buttons everywhere. The shirt taken care of, Mac moved on to un-doing
the belt around Victor's waist. The button fly jeans prove to be of no
difficulty for Mac as he quickly undoes the buttons one-handed. He while gave up
on restraining Victor's wrists and controlled him by simply wrapping his other
strong hand around Victor's throat and squeezing.
Through the whole ordeal Victor kept saying things like "No" and "Mac please
stop it, you're hurting me." Trying to discourage his attacker, but his cries
fall on deaf ears.
Mac was not hearing the pleadings and protests coming from his partner.
In Mac's mind Victor really wanted this even though he appeared to be
fighting it. Eventually, all of Victor's struggling takes a toll and wears him
out. Mac, who has been biting on and sucking at Victor's neck, smiles, believing
that since the handsome man below him has given up fighting, he is therefore
giving his consent to the inevitable.
Mac yanked down Victor's jeans to his knees, trapping his legs further. He
flipped Victor over and leaned in to bite the base of his neck hard, making the
man beneath him cry out in pain and beg.
"Please, Mac, I don't want this" Tried Victor, one more time.
But Mac is engorged and ready, and he doesn't take into consideration that
Victor might not be. Mac spit into his palm and rubbed himself lewdly against
Victors smooth, hard ass. Then suddenly, without warning, he plunged himself
into Victor's tight anus. He was forced to stop about three inches of the way
in, the tight concentric muscle prevented him from entering all the way. Victor,
in agony, screamed from the pain and humiliation, but Mac is oblivious to
everything except the sensation of Victor's tight, tight ass.
Pushing a little harder, Mac could feel it when the small muscle spasm and
then gave way, blanketing him in ecstacy. Mindless of the weak struggles and
cries beneath him and to the fact that his way is now lubricated by a small
amount of blood, Mac continued to push into Victor again and again. Grabbing
Victor by the hair he wrenches the sweaty head to its side and hisses, "I wanted
to see you in the hospital Vic. You should have let me see you." He then invaded
Victor's now submissive mouth with his tongue again and orgasms with an
intensity he has never felt before.
Mac jack knifed up into a sitting position in his bed. Flinging back the quilt
and swinging his legs out of bed, he bent over and cradled his head in his
hands.
Oh god, what just happened? I haven't had a wet dream in years.
Rising up, Mac flipped on the small lamp at his bedside. He was so embarrassed,
but beyond that he was ashamed, ashamed of himself for dreaming about raping
Victor. He couldn't believe that he had hurt his partner and best friend like
that, then had an orgasm over it.
Maybe he was the one who should see a psychiatrist.
Mac walked into the ensuite, wrenched the water on, and then stepped into the
cold spray of the shower.
Victor could not believe the humiliation of being subjected to having an extra
long cotton swab shoved up his ass in search of semen, and by a Agency Doctor
too!
God if he ever tells anybody...
He had told the Doctor that he hadn't been fucked. But the Doctor wouldn't
listen to him; insisting that the test was for his own safety. The
examination and subsequent repair of his battered body could not be over quick
enough for Victor. When it was, he had been offered a sedative and he took it,
not thinking that it would take effect so soon. He had wanted to see Mulder
first, to talk to him about what had happened. Mulder was a psychologist after
all, he would know what to do.
Victor couldn't face LiAnne and especially Mac yet. Though he knew that they
would be there, waiting to hear any news of him. He would talk to them tomorrow.
The Doctor promised to send Mulder in before leaving the room. But before
Victor had a chance to see his lover, he had felt his eyes grow heavy and no
sooner had he shut them, than he was asleep...
Victor ran, full throttle, through the park. He is barefoot and
bare-chested and it is dark out. The air is cold enough out for Victor to see
his own breath as he runs. The forest starts to move, undulate actually then it
begins to grow close around him and suddenly the branches of a very old Douglas
fir tree wrap around him and pull him in tight to it's trunk.
Scrambling to break free, Victor managed to crawl out from under the scratchy
branches on his hands and knees. But before he can stand and start running
again, he freezes as he sees a pair of feet clad in steel-toed work boots before
him.
Victor looked up slowly, straight into Jack's ice blue eyes. The moon is
shining behind Jack, making him appear even more ominous than the last time they
had met. Jack smiled down at Victor who was still frozen in the position he is
in from fear. In his right hand he is twirling a pair of metal handcuffs around
and around on one finger; in the left he has such a tight grip on his leather
belt that his knuckles are white.
Victor, though bodily paralyzed with fear, finally managed to shout out,
"HELP!"
Jack laughed in derision. "When a man cries for help in the woods, can anyone
really hear him? Give it up doll face, I've got you all over again."
Victor swallowed down his rising gorge and tried to sound unafraid as he
spoke. "I k-killed you." But he is unsuccessful, he sounds frightened even to
his own ears.
Jack finds this last statement of Victor's funny. "Yes, that is true Victor,
but every time you open your mouth for your boyfriend, it will always, always
pass through you mind first, what I made you do. I may be dead but memories of
you and I will stay with you. Forever." Jack shrugged his shoulders and ceased
twirling the handcuffs.
He reached down to the scruff of Victor's neck and digging his fingers into
the tender skin at the nape of Victor's neck Jack pulled the agent to his knees.
"Now be a good boy like you were before and open your mouth... nice and wide
now..."
Unable to control his body or his mind Victor obeyed, obediently opens his
mouth to receive Jack's erection...
Victor woke up at that point, gagging and short of breath. He was sweating but
despite that, he still felt compelled to pull the thin blanket that he had
kicked off up, so that it rests right under his chin. Trying to form some sort
of a protective barrier.
Great. Nightmares. Just what I need.
He sat up and turned on the small flourescent light in the headboard. Victor
was almost relieved to see Mulder asleep in the chair next to his bed. The older
agent's head was resting on the side of the mattress and Victor somehow felt
safer.
No longer sleepy, Victor sat there silently and watched him sleep. The other
man's eyelids were fluttering and Victor thought that Mulder was probably having
a bad dream too. It seemed to be the night for them. He propped up his pillow
underneath his neck and then watched Mulder closely, fascinated by the small
tremors and twitching that his body was making.
After Mulder had run out of tears, he clumsily reached for the small box of
Kleenex that sat on the single drawer night stand near Victor's bed. He blew his
nose as quietly as he could, even though he knew that Victor wouldn't be waking
up anytime soon. After tossing the semi-wet tissue across the room into the
garbage can, Mulder sighed. The last 24 hours had finally caught up with him, he
needed to sleep for awhile. So he laid his head down on the edge of the bed and
lightly held Victor's warm hand. Closing his eyes he let the his waking
conscious relax and his subconscious take over-
Mulder is lost in a green topiary maze and can hear someone crying out to
him.
"Help me!" The faint voice pleads.
Mulder is trying to follow the sound of the frightened voice, but the shrubbery
makes it difficult to get an accurate reading of the direction that it's coming
from.
After hearing another soulful, "Fox, help me! PLEASE!" Mulder stops to think,
finally he remembers some old advice about mazes: turn to your right always and
you will eventually find your way. So he does just that, but soon, Mulder thinks
that the rule must be wrong because it seems like every time he turns that way,
he hits a dead end. But the determined agent keeps on running,
searching...seeking. Finally when he is almost too exhausted to go on, he turns
a corner and finds the person that has been crying out for help.
It's Victor.
Suddenly, Mulder realizes that he is now standing in the very center of the
intricate maze, gazing at his lover who is laying motionless on a table with a
crisp white cotton sheet covering his whole body. Mulder slowly walks over to
the chest high table and sees that Victor has a blue tinge ringing his perfect
mouth. Afraid, he ripped back the sheet, revealing bruises circling his lover's
neck. The deep, blue-black color stood out stark against Victor's delicate, pale
flesh.
"Victor! No! I came for you! I found you." Mulder cried out, grief stricken.
Victor's lids fluttered open and green eyes looked up at Mulder. The look in
them sad and distant. "But you came too late. I'm already dead." Victor said
monotone. He sat up and extended his cold hand toward Mulder.
But before Mulder can grasp it, another hand intercepts and takes it instead.
Mulder blinks in incomprehension, and he wonders if the strange hand belongs to
an angel? But when he looks back to the table, Victor is gone already and only
the sheet that covered him remains. Picking up the sheet, Mulder hugged it
tightly to his chest, trying to soothe the ache in his heart. He dropped the
cotton shroud to the ground and began to spin around and around, looking for,
but seeing no sign of Victor.
He is really gone.
"Victor, where did you go?...VICTOR!" Mulder cries out as loud as he can, but
there's still no answer...
Mulder snapped his head up so quickly that he startled Victor, who had been
watching him the whole time. Trying to clear away the sleep from his eyes, he
rubbed his eyes and gazed at Victor as if he was seeing an apparition.
"Hi." Victor grinned down at the slightly dazed man and ruffled his hair
gently.
Surprised that Victor is even awake Mulder said, "Hi. Did I wake you?"
"No, I was up. I've had enough sleep. You called out my name, you know. Bad
dream?" A concept that Victor could definitely understand.
"Yeah, or a bit of one. " Mulder hoped that Victor wouldn't ask him about it,
because he really didn't feel like talking about it tonight. Maybe in the
morning.
"Mmm. Me too. Must be a night for dreams that go 'bump'" Victor answered
easily. Holding out his arms he said to his lover, "Come here. I missed you,
G-man."
Mulder wrapped his arms around his lover and they embraced. Victor finally
feeling truly safe for the first time since his ordeal had began.
Mulder breathed in Vic's scent deeply, secure in the knowledge that his death
had all been a dream only.
Part Nine: The Bumpy Road of Recovery
"I'm not an invalid, you know. I am capable of opening my door." Victor
complained to Mulder grumpily.
"I know, I know. Humor me and let me do it, okay?" Mulder replied blandly.
Victor reluctantly handed over the keys when Mulder put out his hand for
them. But the truth was his knuckles were still bruised and sore from his
fight with Jack, and his right hand was just as shaky as the left, so getting
the key into the lock of his apartment was a bit more difficult task than he
had anticipated. He was silently grateful that Mulder had seen his this, and
had offered to take over for him.
Victor's nose wrinkled at the smell inside his apartment as soon as he
entered. "Jesus Christ, what a mess. And it stinks in here too."
"It doesn't stink, Vic, it's just stale. Why don't you go lie down and
I'll clean up for you," Mulder offered. Even though he was not much of a
housekeeper himself, he figured that all the place needed was an open window,
some air freshener and a sink of soapy water for the dirty dishes.
Mulder looked around and spotted the source of the offending odor; the empty
tequila bottle. He dropped his small overnight bag by the door and started to
pick up.
Vic smiled as he watched Mulder go about tidying up the living room. He knew
that if it were Mulder's own apartment, the FBI agent would have simply thrown
everything into the kitchen sink and hoped the cockroaches would cart it all
away for him.
While smiling at his own thoughts Victor leaned over to pick up Mulder's bag
and then went off down the hall to his bedroom. Once there, Victor dropped the
bag on what he considered to be Mulder's side of the bed before flopping down
on his own side. In the silence of the bedroom Victor could hear Mulder
rattling around glasses along with opening and closing cupboards.
"Vic, where's your dish soap?" Mulder called out to Victor.
"It's under the kitchen sink, left side!" Victor yelled back. He was lying
flat on his back motionlessly with his arms stretched out and legs splayed
apart.
Suddenly, the dark memories of being bound in this position and all that
occurred afterwards entered Victor's head, making him feel nauseous. He
quickly drew his limbs in tightly to his sides as his whole body tensed with
anxiety.
A split second later, Vic got up and left the comfort of his own bed for the
bathroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it. Victor didn't feel so
good; he actually wanted to vomit. While taking deep breaths Victor turned on
the cold water and then grabbing the side of the sink, he lowered his head and
took a deep drink of the cold liquid directly from the tap.
Mulder had heard the bathroom's door closing and its lock clicking into place
from where he was. That's not a good sign.
He knew that Victor wasn't locking the door to keep him out, but to allow
himself the sense of security and control. Not to mention the fact that he
probably didn't want Mulder to see him in this vulnerable state again.
Thinking that knocking on the door to see if he was okay would probably not
go over too well, Mulder decided to leave Victor alone. Victor will come
out on his own when he's good and ready to.
After rinsing his face, Victor brought his eyes up to look at himself in the
mirror. And what he saw sickened him: black eyes, cuts and bruises everywhere.
To him, they were nothing but leftovers from an extremely painful ordeal.
Reminders of how inadequate and weak he had been, unable to even look after
himself.
Jack had been able to sneak up on him in the park because he wasn't paying
attention to what was going on around him, as was his usual practice. Instead
he had been gazing at the stars and thinking of Mulder.
And then, during his imprisonment by Jack, he had been useless in preventing
himself from being tied up, tortured and abused...
Stop it, Vic! Deal with it like a man. Just forget it ever happened. Now
get out there before Mulder thinks something's wrong.
Victor shook his head at his own image in the mirror. He would just force
himself to forget it ever happened; that's all there was to it. Tell the
shrinks what they wanted to hear. Tell everyone else what they needed to hear,
and then in a few months all these feelings of helplessness and insecurity will
have dissipated. If he can convince every one to get over it as he already has,
then hopefully everything will be okay. All he needed was a little more time to
deal with what happened, and to bury the experience as deep as it would go.
Then things will be fine. They had to be.
Taking another deep breath he ran his hands over his hair and tried to rub
out the dark circles under his eyes. A few minutes later he padded out of the
bathroom. Looking back and forth between the bedroom and the direction of the
living room. Victor didn't want to close his eyes only to see Jack again, so
taking another nap was out of the question even though he was very tired.
There would be time enough later to worry about how he was going to fall sleep
later, right now he wanted...needed other things. Things that only Fox Mulder
could provide.
Having decided, Victor switched directions and headed for the living room.
He walked quietly around the corner and snuck up behind Mulder, wrapping his
arms around his chest. He hugged the other man to him tightly and then brought
his arms up to hook his hands over Mulder's shoulders.
He nuzzled his face into Mulder's back and whispered huskily, "God, I missed
you. I'm glad you decided to stay a couple of days."
Mulder gave a lop-sided smile to the glass he was washing and replied,"I'm
glad I did too." He turned around and gathered Vic up into a tight embrace,
feeling the hard lump in Vic's jeans rubbing up against his own burgeoning
erection. Mulder looked into the man's eyes searchingly for any signs of
hesitation. When he saw none he leaned into Victor and began kissing him.
The kiss soon went from slow and easy to fast and furious, both tongues
darting in and out of one an others' mouth, vying for the warm space within.
Vic broke the kiss first and grabbing Mulder's hand, led him down the hall
to the bedroom. Mulder understood that there was more to the situation than
even Victor himself realized. Subconsciously Victor needed this to feel in
control again, in order to attempt to take back whatever it was he had lost to
Jack. At the same time, another part of him also knew that Victor just needed
to get laid to help him forget what had happened. Whatever the reasons were,
Mulder decided he was not adverse to helping Victor out either way.
Victor twirled Mulder around so that the man was facing him, then pulled him
into another deep kiss. He started undoing the button to Mulder's jeans and
roughly jerked down his zipper. Victor was anxious to get his lover completely
undressed. Before long, Mulder took over disrobing himself while Vic started
pulling at his own clothing, flinging the garments away un-concern as to where
they were landing.
As soon as Victor was fully unclothed, he dove on top of an equally
disrobed Mulder and plundered
the agent's mouth, running his tongue enthusiastically from Mulder's bottom lip
to his earlobe, pausing in between to bite down and leave several purple marks
on his neck and shoulder.
Mulder shut his eyes and delighted the sensations of Victor's ardent
foreplay.
Vic positioned himself between Mulder's legs and spread them farther apart.
Licking his way down to the firm flat abdomen beneath him, he pushed Mulder's
thighs up and used his tongue to lubricate the way. Victor allowed small
amounts of saliva to accumulate in his mouth before eagerly applying the warm
moisture to the tight opening by thrusting his tongue in and out of the
thrashing and moaning man.
Mulder couldn't help but growl out his pleasure over what Victor was doing to
him. The incredible waves of pleasure washing over him again and again. So
when Victor finally sank two fingers in him at once, he thought that he was
going to cum right then and there. He watched dazedly as Victor removed his
fingers from within him and carefully wiped the leaking fluid from the ends of
both of their cocks to rub it up and down his own hard cock for further
lubrication.
Then Victor looked Mulder straight in the eye and rasped, "Are you ready
for me?"
Mulder responded immediately by nodding his head and whispering urgently,
"Oh, yeah. Do me."
Needing no further encouragement, Vic grabbed Mulder's legs and pushed
them back and told him to keep them there. Then holding onto himself, he began
to guide his hardened organ into Mulder.
Victor eased himself in a slow but continuous motion, pushing into the
writhing man under him until he had sank himself in all the way. Pausing only
then to give Mulder a chance to catch his breath. When he saw that the other
man's eyes were closed, Victor demanded hoarsely, "Look at me."
Complying with Vic's wishes, Mulder opened his eyes and gazed into the big
green ones looming above him. He tried to block out the bruises that marred
Victor's neck and face. He avoided looking at the bite marks on Victor's
chest, marks that he hadn't made. Instead Mulder concentrated on staring
straight into Victor's eyes as he had been asked to do. With their gazes
transfixed on one another, Victor began to drive himself home, into the well
stretched ass of Fox Mulder.
Though he didn't intend for it to be so rough, Victor's thrusts became more
and more brutish as he neared his orgasm, but Mulder was not complaining.
When Mulder sensed that Vic's release was near; he used his own idle hand
to bring himself off. His own fast pumping motion made him cum first, and when
his tight hole closed down even tighter around Victor's cock, it sent the man
on top of him over the edge immediately and Victor came inside of his lover.
Collapsing on top of Mulder, Victor lay where he was, letting the last
vestiges of orgasmic bliss wash over him. After awhile, he reluctantly rolled
off of Mulder and reached for the box of tissue, pulling a few
out for Mulder and then some for himself. It was while he was wiping himself
off when that the guilt finally hit him.
What a shit I am! I didn't even think about jacking him off. I just left
it up to him to take care of
himself. He had been so focused in on his own needs that he had forgotten
that Mulder might have a few of his own.
"I'm sorry," Vic whispered sheepishly.
"Sorry for what?" Mulder asked.
"Sorry for being so selfish. I don't know what came over me. The last time
we had sex I recall that I was a little more giving. More reciprocating."
Victor felt ashamed of the way he had taken Mulder so roughly. Suddenly he
felt like he had forced himself on Mulder or something. So convinced, was he,
that he had hurt Mulder, Vic tried to get out of bed before Mulder kicked him
out.
"Where exactly are you going?" Mulder demanded. He knew exactly what Vic's
problem was so he pulled Vic back down to him and held on to him tight.
"I...I feel like you had no pleasure from that at all. I just thought
that..." Victor began, but his voice trailed off before he could finish his
sentence. He didn't really know what he wanted to say any ways.
Mulder hugged him tighter. "Well you thought wrong, I like strong sex
sometimes so stop worrying about it. I am however worried about you? You
know, Vic, I would never pressure you into telling me what happened when you
were kidnaped, but if you want to talk or need to talk, I'm here for you.
Always.î As if to convince Victor more Mulder added, ìPlus, I am psychologist,
remember? Anything you say I'll keep between us. I promise." Mulder would
never had told anyone what Vic said to him any ways, psychologist or not, but
he thought that if he brought up the confidentiality clause it might put Victor
more at ease.
Victor rolled away from Mulder and rested on his bruised back with his hands
together underneath his head. He could still feel the tender bump on the back
of his head. While staring at the ceiling, Victor cleared his throat and began
to talk. He wasn't planning to tell his partners about the things that had
happened, but if he couldn't tell his lover the truth, then who else was there?
Victor knew that it would be harder to convince everyone else around him that
he really was okay if he didn't at least tell one other person the truth.
Victor trusted Mulder implicitly with what he was going to say. "I..." he
began " ...I woke up wearing only my jeans and with my left ankle chained to a
wall..."
Mulder didn't quite know what to say to Victor. It was one thing to imagine
what had happened to Vic and another to actually know it by having the
real mental imagery to go along with the narrative. His mouth was dry and for
the first time in a long while Mulder was absolutely speechless. He had lain
still and listened in silence as Victor told him in an emotionless voice all
that had gone on between him and Jack. Mulder was glad Jack that had died, and
happier still that at least Victor had gotten the satisfaction of regaining
some self respect back by doing the job himself. But Mulder realized that Jack
had taken a part of Victor to the grave with him; and Victor would never get
that part of himself back. Ever. The psychological repercussions of what Vic
had been through would scar him for the rest of his days.
No wonder the sex had seemed so rough and frenzied. It made a lot more sense
to Mulder now, even though at first he thought he already understood why.
Victor's ability to maintain control over his emotions had amazed Mulder.
He had poured out every sordid detail to Mulder and though his eyes remained
glassy throughout, Vic never even allowed himself to shed one single tear. His
voice did crack and waver when he had gotten to the part about being forced to
give Jack a blowjob, but after a quick intake of breath he had been able to go
on as calm and even as he was before. Vic's icy, almost indifferent attitude
did not surprise Mulder, however. He recognized that this was the side of
lover that was probably seen by most people; and that he was one of the few
lucky enough to even see Vic's warm, funny and even romantic side. Knowing he
had been allowed into the inner nucleus that was the true Victor Mansfield made
Mulder feel privileged.
When Victor was finished recounting his horrible experience, Mulder reached
over and pulled Victor back against him. He held on to Victor tightly and
murmured into the soft brown crown of the other man's head, "I'm glad he's dead
Vic and thankful that you're still alive. I know you'll never truly forget what
happened, but someday I promise, you will get over it. It might take awhile,
but you will get over it."
Vic nodded his head but made no reply. Relieved that telling Mulder
everything had been the right thing to do. But if Mulder thought that he was
ever going to tell another living soul what really happened, then he was sorely
mistaken. Victor realized that Mulder would never betray his trust by telling
others what he told him tonight. He was confident that even if his partners
demanded the truth from Mulder, without Vic's permission, he still would not
tell. Victor felt no compulsion to let his partners know all the gory details;
in fact, he believed that the less they knew about the whole ordeal, the
better. The only thing that mattered was that Mulder knew and understood him.
Vic threw his arm over Mulder's chest and closed his eyes. He didn't want
to talk about it anymore, he only wanted to rest. His back was aching and so
was his head for that matter.
"Mmm, you mind if I fall asleep like this?" mumbled Vic, already half way
there."
Mulder rubbed the outer rim of Victor's ear gently; it was really the only
piece of skin available on Vic's body that did not have a bruise, bite mark or
welt. "No, you mind if I fall asleep with you?" he asked in an equally drowsy
voice.
Victor planted a kiss in the hollow of Mulder's chest. "No. This feels good.
Stay." Victor was immediately sound asleep after he said that.
Closing his eyes, Mulder followed suit. His last thoughts before he drifted
off to sleep were about how he wished he could make Victor's inner turmoil go
away, but knowing, with great regret, that ultimately only Victor could heal
himself.
Part Ten: Honesty is not always the best policy
As the late afternoon sun went down, its warm rays spilled through the open
windows and delicately
kissed the bare skin of the two men who were intertwined around each other.
They were sleeping peacefully in the big bed that dominated the small roomóboth
men were worn out, though each for different reasons.
Normally, Victor was a very light sleeper. It was especially important to
be one in his line of business one; could never be too sure who was going to
come through the door unannounced. But the aftermath of the last few days and
nights, combined with the effects of a sedative he had taken the night before
worked against him. His senses were dulled and he was pulled into a much needed
deep slumber.
Beside him, Mulder slept deeply as well, which was his usual practice
anyway.
LiAnne had been knocking on the front door to Vic's apartment for several
minutes already. When she received no answer after knocking several more times,
she became quite worried for her former lover's condition. She pulled out her
own personal key to Vic's apartment and unlocked the door quietly, taking care
to shut it as gently as she could behind her. LiAnne thought the apartment had
a eerie stillness about it; the heavy silence gave her the creeps. She knew
Victor should have been home. Normally, she would have seen Victor just flaked
out on the couch, resting while watching a hockey game. But unfortunately,
since nothing that had happened to Victor in the last 72 hours had been normal,
she wasn't completely surprised when she didn't find him on the couch.
LiAnne couldn't stop herself from looking around for traces of Mulder; but
when she didn't find anything that might have belonged to him, she just assumed
that he must have gone home already. It was then that LiAnne noticed Vic's
bedroom door was closed and guessed that he might still be sleeping. She
didn't want to disturb Victor, but she did want to see him so LiAnne thought
she'd just sneak a peek in on him to make sure he was okay. Figuring that she
could talk to him about her feelings for him and his
feelings for her later when he was up and about.
LiAnne was earnest about the way she felt about Victor, and she desperately
wanted him to take her proposal of their getting back together seriously. At
the same time, she was willing to hold things off for a little while more, or
at least until he was fully awake and alert.
LiAnne padded down the hall quietly as only a true thief could. Grasping the
bedroom's doorknob, she pushed the door open and then gasped loudly, shocked by
what she saw on the other side of the door. She released the doorknob
unconsciously and let the door swing all the way open. The sound of her loud
gasp and the door hitting the wall succeeded in forcing Victor out of his deep
sleep. He was up and out of bed so quickly that she didn't even see him grab
his gun. Before she knew it, he had somersaulted out of bed and landed on his
knees on the floor directly in front of her with his automatic aimed dead on
for her heart.
It took a couple of seconds for Victor to blink away the sleep that blurred
his vision and focus in on the trespasser. Comprehension of who the intruder
was finally registered on the armed man. "LiAnne? What the hell are you doing
here?!" Victor blurted out. Just as soon as those words were out of his mouth,
another thought hit him. Oh shit I'm naked!
Before he could ask LiAnne to leave the bedroom, she covered her mouth with
one hand and stammered, "Oh my god! Vic I'm sorry...I ...just..." Unable to
finish, she simply whirled around and ran back down the hall the way she had
come. Sighing heavily, Victor stood up and put his gun away. He
didn't hear sound of the front door slamming shut so he guessed that LiAnne was
probably waiting for him to come out and explain things to her.
He ran his hands through his hair, sighed and began hunting for his
underwear and the rest of his clothing. Why is she here in the first place?
How did she get in? Boy, does she ever have a lot of explaining to do to!
As Victor tugged on his jeans he looked over at Mulder, whom he thought was
still asleep, and discovered that man was in fact awake and lying on his side
with one hand propped up under his head, brown hair sticking out in every
direction while grinning up at Victor like the Cheshire cat.
Mulder had woken up the second Vic threw back the covers and popped out of
bed but he had decided to play it safe and pretend to be asleep until LiAnne
was out of the room. Whispering softly he asked Vic, "What's she doing here?
Should I leave?"
"No, you stay. I don't know what she's doing here but I plan to find out.
I'll be back after I talk to her. I think I'll take her to the coffee shop.
Want me to bring back anything while I'm out?" Vic whispered back. He had
finished dressing and was now running a comb through his short hair.
Mulder shook his head no while mumbling sleepily, "Mmm no thanks." He then
beckoned to Vic, enticing him back over to the bed. Mulder wrapped his arms
around Victor, who was leaning over
him, and kissed the man deeply before rolling over and mumbling, "See ya."
Victor slapped Mulder's perfectly rounded left butt cheek. It was a playful
gesture but the slap was still hard enough to leave a handprint. Vic pulled
the quilt up to Mulder's chin and tucked it underneath, saying a quiet
"Goodbye" before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.
LiAnne was standing outside on Victor's veranda, face to the sun, trying to
figure out how she was going to say to Victor, what she had been wanting to say
to him for a few days now. Seeing him in bed
naked and wrapped around Mulder upset her more than she had thought it would.
Vic had looked so peaceful in the few seconds before he had woken up startled
and wide-eyed with momentary confusion.
Mac had already voiced his suspicions to her as to what Vic and Mulder had
been up to while the two of them had been stuck working in Greenland; but she
hadn't really, truly believed it until now.
Now what do I do?
She heard footsteps approaching from behind and turned around to gaze at
Victor. More determined than ever to get him away from the unnatural hold that
she believed Mulder had over him. But by the look on his face, she had a
strong feeling that she had her work cut out for her.
"Come on, let's go to Starbucks," Vic suggested in a voice that sounded a
lot calmer than he felt. LiAnne agreed and walked out of her former fiancée's
apartment towards the elevator.
Mulder had no sooner began to drift off to sleep again than the sound of
someone knocking at the front door had woken him up. He was tempted to just
ignore the annoying disturbance but then decided that too much sleep would only
work to keep him up all night, so he got up and threw on his jeans, not even
bothering to do up the buttons.
Answering the front door barefoot and shirtless, he was surprised to find
Mac standing on the other side holding a tray of coffee from, ironically
enough, Starbuck's. Mulder pulled the door open all the way and swung his arm
towards the living room, inviting Mac in without uttering a word. Mac complied
darting his eyes around and searching for Victor as soon as he was across the
threshold.
Mac was a bit thrown off at the sight of Mulder opening the door for him,
especially since he had been told by the Director that Mulder's flight home was
early this morning. He had wanted to see Vic alone so that they could talk;
waiting intentionally until close to dinner time to come over and visit just in
case Mulder decided to take later flight out. Seeing as the man was still here,
all that planning had been pointless now.
"Mulder, where's Vic?" Mac asked the heavily-lidded man before him. "You
look like you just woke up or something."
Mulder resisted the urge to answer "or something" and settled for instead,
"Vic's gone to the coffee shop with LiAnne. They needed to discuss uh...some
stuff." Mulder hedged.
Shrugging his shoulders, Mac handed Mulder one of the mocha's and then took
the other for himself. He sat down on the love seat with apparently no
intentions of leaving just yet.
I guess he's going to wait for Vic to come back Mulder assumed.
Actually, Mac had decided, on the spur of the moment, that perhaps he should
take the opportunity since they were alone to talk to Mulder, and find out just
exactly what his intentions towards Victor were.
Mulder dragged a kitchen chair across the rug and settled himself on it so
that the back of the chair was in front of him. He peeled the seal off of the
cup and took a sip. Smiling at Mac, he said pleasantly, "Mmm, that's good."
He waited a second before asking Mac, "Okay, so what's on your mind?"
He's straightforward; just like Vic "Well...I think it's my duty as
Vic's best friend, not to mention his partner, to ask you just what your
intentions are in regards to him." As soon as the words were out, Mac wished
that he could take them back; they did not come out right at all. 'What your
intentions are'...how lame is that?! I sound like a jealous lover! Shit.
Mac shook his head in order to clear it, hoping that would help him think
better so he could say what he really meant.
Mulder snorted and then replied with a bit of sarcasm, "What do you mean?
Like when are we getting married? Or if I get him pregnant will I support the
baby?" He laughed at the absurdity of Mac's question and his answers. Mulder
felt like a high school boy being quizzed by an over anxious father before
taking out his virgin daughter. Mulder realized that Mac was concerned for his
partner and no doubt Mac had a clue as to what was going on between them, but
he couldn't help but feel a little insulted at Mac's
opening question.
Mac tried breaking the ice again by smiling a small lopsided grin at the man
across from him. He made another try, "Okay, that didn't quite come out right.
It's not what I really meant, but..." he hesitated, finding it hard to
verbalize what he was thinking, "...what I mean is, what happens to Vic when
you go home? Are you a 'couple' or what? I would hate to see him get hurt by
having a long-distance relationship that didn't work out. He's been through a
lot lately and it's not just with this whole Jack thing either. There's other
stuff which you have no idea about. Bad stuff dealing with the time when he
used to be a cop. That and family problems."
Mac paused and took a sip from his cup, wrinkling his nose slightly at
discovering that his mocha had turned from piping hot to lukewarm in a matter
of minutes. He put the cup on the table and looked Mulder in the eyes. "Look,
I have a rough idea of what's been going on between the two of you, but I don't
know
just how serious things are. I do think though, that if you really cared about
Victor, you would do the right thing and let him go now, before he gets too
attached to you. I don't think he could take another personal crisis." Mac
was playing the old If you love something set it free angle and judging
by the grim look on Mulder's face, he figured it was working.
Mac stood up, leaving his Styrofoam cup behind on the table. "Listen, I
can't tell youó-or Victor for that matterówhat to do. But what I'm concerned
about is what if, say, you continue seeing Vic for now and then later on, you
end up meeting someone else in D.C. Some one who is a whole lot closer. So
then you decide to break it off with Vic. Don't you think that will hurt him
more in the long run, than if you were to call it quits now?"
Mac fell silent, letting the question remain unanswered. After a beat he
continued, "And Agent Mulder, trust me when I tell you that if you end up
hurting him more than you had to in the first place, you'll have me to deal
with."
Without waiting for Mulder to answer him, Mac walked to the front door. But
before leaving, he turned and called out pleasantly to the other man, "Have a
good flight home." He closed the door behind himself and stood in the hallway
for a moment. Mac was not proud of himself for planting the first
seeds of doubt into Mulder's mind, but he was sure that in the end, Victor
would be better off. He knew better than anybody about the difficulties of
long distance relationships; they never lasted. Not to mention the fact that
Mac felt Mulder was really only a temporary fling to Victor. He was certain
that eventually the distance alone between Vic and Mulder would be just too
much for them to overcome. And when Victor was ready; Mac was prepared to be
there to help him get over everything that had happened to him, including Fox
Mulder and their ill-fated, short lived romp in the sheets. Either way, Mac
would be there when Victor needed him, just like he had been there for him when
LiAnne had dumped him.
"You want to what?!" Victor, almost choked on his coffee at LiAnne's
announcement, he was stupefied. He couldn't believe that he had actually heard
her correctly.
LiAnne sighed heavily and repeated, "I think we should try to work stuff out
and get back together."
Seeing the strange look on Vic's face, LiAnne questioned in a frustrated tone,
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Victor, who had been grimacing slightly at LiAnne, answered bluntly,
"Because, I don't believe you really want me back. I know you, LiAnne. You're
jealous, that's all."
LiAnne shook her head but before she could say anything else in her own
defense, Vic continued on in a harsher tone of voice than he had intended to,
"You broke up with me, remember? You were the one who said you
weren't ready for a full-time commitment. That maybe marriage isn't for
me, I believe were your exact words. You broke off our engagement just
because of some bad experience you had working with Mac on a case where you
guys had to pretend to be married. Do you wanna know how that made me feel?
I'll tell you howó-I was crushed and I felt rejected, that's how I felt."
Victor was more than a little surprised to find out how bitter he still was
over the whole experience even though a good amount of time had already passed.
"It took me a long time to get over it and an even longer time to figure out
just who I really was and what I wanted."
Victor took a sip of his mocha in an effort to calm himself before meeting
LiAnne's deep brown eyes. He continued on in a softer, more patient tone, "But
I finally did get over it and I finally got over you, LiAnne." He shook his
head sadly. "I know you well enough to see that the only reason you only want
me back is because you can't deal with the fact that I might be falling for
someone else. You did the same thing when you thought Ivy and I were getting
back together again. And then when Mac was going to get married to that arms
dealer..."
Victor ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his coffee mug. He
tilted his head sideways and shook it gently while smiling ruefully at his
former lover. "...you tried the same thing with him. But when it looked like
he might go back to you afterwards, you pulled away and came up with the same
excuses of why it wouldn't work between you two. I know that if we got back
together again you would only find a way to call it off when it came time to
talk marriage."
Victor looked into LiAnne's blank face then and realized that she didn't
know that he and Mac confided in each other on such issues frequently.
She was in fact quite surprised that Mac had told Vic so much.
"Mac and I talk LiAnne, we always have even when we weren't the best of
friends." Vic stopped there and swallowed up the last of the contents in his
coffee cup. His pause in speech gave LiAnne the entrance she was looking
for.
She shook her head vehemently and denied the truth of his words. "No!
That's not true, Vic, it's not the same anymore. I really want us to get back
together because I do care about you. You have to believe that!"
"Oh, I know you believe that, but truthfully? I don't think you
really want either one of us, LiAnne. You don't want us but at the same time
you don't want anyone else to have us either. Let's face it, you liked it when
Mac and I fought over you. It was a great boost to your ego. I could tell that
you were never really thrilled about our becoming friends, especially since we
stopped bickering over you and started doing stuff without you. I know you
hated it." Vic knew he was hurting LiAnne by saying all these things to her,
but he felt that it was time for him to get everything out in the open. Or
almost everything. He was hopeful that once they had dealt with this issue and
made sure it was closed, that then they would be able to put this conversation
and everything else from the past behind them and move on.
"LiAnne," Victor held her small hand between his two large ones, "...there
are things about myself that I am just discovering. Things that I want to do
and need to try. And none of these things involve you. They can't involve you
anymore.
"I'm sorry. You're my partner and a good friend and I will always care about
you and love you..." LiAnne's eyes had become glassy, and Vic's heart ached a
little as he watched a large tear spill out over the rim and slide down her
cheek, "...but I just don't love you in that way anymore."
Victor patted her hand gently and then got up and leaned over to press a
lingering kiss on her forehead. He whispered, "I'm sorry", before turning
around and leaving the coffee shop. He felt like the biggest jerk in the world
and was regretful all the way home. Victor wished it could have been different
for LiAnne's sake. That he could have said yes to her, and then pick up where
they had left off. But he couldn't lie to himself any longer. He also truly
believed that if he and LiAnne did get back together that it would hurt Mac
even more and that was something Victor didn't want to do. He knew that Mac
still had feelings for LiAnne even though she had trashed him as well. Victor's
rivalry with Mac had been exchanged for camaraderie. He felt good about where
he and Mac were at in their relationship. In Mac, he had found the
best friend that he never had beforeó-a friend to whom he could complain to or
just sit around with in a companionable silence.
It had taken a long time for him and Mac to click, but once their friendship
became based on other factors besides a former fiancée, it took off. Victor
didn't have a lot of friends. He intended on keeping the one he did have.
Victor unlocked the door to his apartment and walked inside, shutting and
locking it behind himself. He turned around and saw Mulder sitting on the love
seat with a beer in his hand. The look on Mulder's face warned Victor that
something was up. Something that wasn't good. Mulder raised his eyes and said
unsmiling and in an unemotional voice, "Vic, we need to talk."
Part Eleven
Finally, when he could no longer delay, he ceased his fiddling and turned
around to say, "Ok, so lay it on me."
Mulder sighed heavily. "Sit, Vic," he said while patting the empty space next
to him on the love seat, indicating exactly where he wanted Vic to sit.
Victor's eyes opened wide and held a questioning look in them. "Jesus, it
must be bad if you want me to sit down," he joked weakly. Victor could feel his
stomach dropping like a stone in water. And Chewing on his lower lip, Vic sank
down next to Mulder and waited expectantly while trying to maintain a blank
face.
"Vic," Mulder began as he raised his right hand and ran the backs of his
fingers down Victor's cheek, caressing him softly while searing into his mind,
the face of the only man that had made him feel more than ordinary lust. Victor
blinked his eyes and then left them closed. Eventually, Mulder stopped what he
was doing and dropped his hand saying, "Vic, I don't think we should hold each
other to a commitment. I mean, realistically speaking, it would be impractical
for us to maintain a monogamous relationship. The miles between us would make
it virtually impossible. We can still get together every now and then, maybe
when our paths cross; but to say that we will not see other people, especially
with the distance between us... "
Mulder broke off the rest of his well-rehearsed speech. His voice had
cracked slightly even though he was doing his damnedest to try to hold the
emotions he felt in check. He couldn't go on. The look on Victor's face broke
his heart. Vic's lower lip had dropped slightly and his face held an expression
that was a combination of pain and sorrow. The purple-green bruise on Vic's
face stood out and managed to accentuate his sadness. Mulder had never seen
Victor look like this before; during their passionate albeit short romance.
Victor's face remained fairly placid, but he was wringing his hands
together. The gesture, combined with the look in his eyes, were the only real
indications as to what he was really feeling.
"It's me isn't it?" Victor asked Mulder in a soft husky voice which in the
past Mulder had often thought of as sexy. Now however, it only made Mulder feel
worse than he already did, if that was even possible.
"No. Victor that's not it at all." Mac, you are such a shithead for
making me do this! He thought miserably as he reached for Victor's hand.
Mulder wanted to hold on to Vic's hand to reassure the other man that it really
wasn't him personally.
But Victor pulled his hands away from Mulder before he could touch him and
leapt up to a standing position.
Backing away a few steps he looked at Mulder and insisted, "It is me.
Don't lie, Fox, I can tell. It's because of that whole 'Jack' thing isn't it?
The fact that I couldn't even look after myself, right? You think I'm a coward,
that I'm weak. You don't even have to say it, Mulder. It's written all over
your face."
"I disgust you, I shoulda let Jack kill me. But I was too afraid to die.
Couldn't even be a man when it came to death." Victor finished faintly.
He felt tears starting to form in his eyes, blurring his vision. Shit
Victor turned his back to Mulder and knuckled away the shameful drops that
would betray to Mulder what he was really feeling about himself, deep down
inside.
What's wrong with me? Why can't I ever hang onto a lover? He looks at me
differently now. No matter what he says, on the inside I know he's probably
looking at me and thinking that I'm weak because a man stuck his cock down my
throat and I did nothing to stop it! But who can blame him? I wouldn't want
me either.
Even though his back was turned, Victor's self-doubt was still evident to
the other man. Mulder jumped up and put his hand on Victor's shoulder, "Vic.
don't ever say that ever! You are not better off dead. Look at me. Please,"
he implored.
Coming to a decision, Victor dropped his hands to his sides and turned
around to face the other man. With a determined look in his eyes and a firm set
to his mouth, Victor stated in a voice that was laced with faked calm and
sensibility, in hopes that Mulder would not be able to tell the difference,
"Look, I understand really. Hey, no hard feelings, okay? How long 'til you have
to go? Maybe we can go out and get a bite to eat before your plane takes off?"
Victor smiled with false casualness. "For old times sake, eh?"
Neither the false smile nor Victor's brave words could fool Mulder in the
least. He could see that even though Vic was verbally saying one thing, his
body language was saying something else all together. Mulder had always been a
believer that body language was the silent messenger which never lies. He
hadn't truly believed for one second that Victor could have all of a sudden
become 'okay' with things, when no more than two minutes ago he had been
calling himself down. Blaming himself, instead of the facts for why a steady
relationship would be impossible between them. Mulder wisely chose to go with
his instincts and said,"Look, Vic sit down. I want to talk to you about this."
Victor reluctantly allowed Mulder to lead him back to the love seat and pull
him down next to him.
"Listen to me. I don't think you're a coward or a weakling or anything like
that. Far from it. I know that you think those things about yourself but you
really shouldn't, Vic, because they're not true. Jack drugged you and then
tied you up. How were you supposed to defend yourself when the fight wasn't
fair to begin with?" Victor, remaining silent, only shrugged in a
self-deprecating manner. Mulder grabbed Vic's hand as he had tried to do
earlier and continued on, "Vic, the reason why I don't think we should see only
each other is because of the distance between us. You hear me? Nothing more.
Hell I'm usually so busy chasing my personal agenda that I don't have time for
anyone or anything else. But with you, who knows? Your life is a lot less
complicated than mine. Or at least it used to be. You might end up finding
someone up here who catches your eye..."
Victor grimaced slightly and interrupted with a mumbled, "Yeah right... I
strike out more than a minor league ball player."
Mulder ignored Vic's comment and went on, "As I was saying, you might find
someone and decide you want to be with him or her. So why should a long
distance fling prevent you from being with someone who could potentially be the
person you spend the rest of your life with?"
"We both know that I'm not that guy, considering where I live and what I do
for a living. I'm too obsessed with my work to put in the time it takes to have
a successful relationship, " Mulder added ruefully, secretly wishing that the
circumstances could have been different.
Mulder then spent the next fifteen minutes further persuading Victor that
it wasn't his fault for Mulder's decision that they should not commit to a long
distance romance. That it was simply the hand they were dealt and therefore
they had no choice but to play the cards. When Mulder was finally done talking,
he sat back and waited for Vic to speak, hoping that what he had said had made
some sense to Victor after all so he would see the truth in the words.
Fortunately, Victor did understand everything that Mulder had said to him.
Deep down he knew that Mulder was right. Vic saw that they were essentially
from two different worlds; even if their jobs were similar in nature. He
realized that it was fate that had brought them together in the first place,
and then fate again that had brought Mulder back to Canada seeking to aid in
the search and rescue. Despite the fact that the feelings they had for each
other were very real, and ran deep; not to mention the mind-blowing sex they've
had. Vic knew that to try to hang onto anything more permanent would only be a
pipe dream. No matter what or how they felt about each other, time and distance
would eventually work against them and in the end, the results would still be
the same. They'd only end up going their own separate ways.
No, this is the best solution by far, Victor admitted to himself. Even
though it did not lessen the hurt, he admired Mulder for having the guts to say
so first.
"You're a braver man than me, G-man. I don't know if I could have said the
same to you."
Mulder let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. I
guess Mac was right after all. "Victor, believe me when I say you're braver
than you know. Why won't you give yourself credit for saving your own life? You
fought Jack Douglas with only your wits and your bare hands. It takes a strong
kind of gladiator to do that."
Mulder wanting to lighten the mood, grinned at the image of Victor wearing
gladiator garb.
But Vic only sighed softly and asked, "So when do you leave?"
"I've got to be at the airport in about two hours," Mulder replied, glancing
at his watch. Then he reached up with both of his hands and cupped Victor's
face gently, pulling the melancholic man toward himself.
Their lips met and Mulder kissed Victor more thoroughly than he had ever done
before. Breaking the seal of their passion, Victor leaned back and grinned
devilishly while looking up at Mulder through a dark fringe of lashes. He
teased in a throaty rasp, "Gladiator, eh? Is that some sort of a fantasy of
yours?"
Laughing, Mulder raised his eyebrows and answered honestly, "Ohhh yeah."
"Well then, let's go to the bedroom and I'll show you my Spartacus
impersonation." Victor stood and pulled Mulder up after him. He reached for
the remote control to his CD player and pressed the "on" button. They walked
down the hall to the sounds of 'House of the Rising Sun' playing in the
background behind them, as if it was escorting them to the bedroom. Mulder was
thinking as he followed the other man how he would never be able to hear
another Animals song again without thinking of Victor Mansfield.
The men started their lovemaking with the very seductive act of undressing
each other. Gently caressing and touching each other in all the sensitive
spots, taking in and giving out all the stimuli they could. Both of the men
knowing full well that this was likely the last time they would make love to
each other. Victor pushed Mulder backwards and covered him from head to toe
with wet kisses. And when he had worked his way back up to the top Victor
paused to stare deeply into Mulder's eyes, proclaiming emotionally to the man
beneath him, "I love you, Fox Mulder. You changed my life. You woke me up out
of a deep sleep I didn't even know I was in."
Mulder, returning Victor's gaze just as intently and confessed, "I love you
to Victor and I always will, no matter what happens to us or where we end up. I
want you to know... " Mulder hesitated for just a second. "...that I've
never told another person that I love them before." Mulder flipped Victor over
so that he was now on the bottom. Mulder gave his lips a lecherous lick and
then kissed Victor with an eager fervor, saying into the agent's mouth, "Only
you Victor. You're the only one I've ever said those words to." Then, without
any further words, Mulder went on to show Victor exactly how much he loved him
and how much was going to miss him.
"Oh God Victor!" Mulder cried out as he came inside of his lover, thrusting
his hips a few times more to let his orgasm finish completely. He waited for
himself to go slightly soft before pulling out and laying his sweaty body
partially on top of Victor who was panting harshly.
Mulder let his fingertips play idly over Vic's smooth chest while shutting
his eyes and listening to the song that was coming from Vic's CD player in the
living room. Vic had put the 'Best of the Animals' CD on when he and Mulder had
entered the bedroom and now the last song on it, 'Bring it on home to me' was
playing in the background as an accompaniment to the aftermath of their love
making.
Eric Burdon was singing woefully:
If you ever change your mind
Seems fitting. Mulder thought as he wrapped his lips around Vic's
swollen, tender and apparently sensitive nipple and sucked on it lightly,
running his tongue over the light brown nub. "We should go shower then get a
bite to eat," he suggested. "I'm starved! I haven't eaten all day."
"Yeah," Victor agreed but neither man made a motion to move. Victor closed
his eyes as he sang the last verse of the song inside of his head:
You know I'll always be your slave.
Victor's Apartment
Victor downed another shot of the Jack Daniels that he had bought on his
way home from dropping Mulder off at the airport. He had felt shitty; shitty
as hell and he had wanted to get smashed and fall into the abyss of drunken
oblivion. He had been sitting alone in the dark for hours now, drinking and
thinking.
And still he had no answers to all the questions that he had been asking
himself since the second Mulder waved goodbye and walked through the automatic
glass doors that would take him to his plane-the plane that in turn would take
the F.B.I. agent to his own corner of the world so he could continue on with
living his own conpartmentalized life.
Vic knew they had done the right thing by calling it quits before either one
of them could be hurt too deeply by an ill-fated fling, but knowing that still
did not ease the pain of the parting. All night he had been thinking not only
about Mulder but LiAnne too. However, he was still certain that with or without
Mulder in the picture, he would never be able to make himself return to
LiAnne.
That part of his life was over. Now, once again it was time to close yet
another unsatisfactory chapter in his miserable life and tie up all the loose
threads dangling from the brief affair between Mulder and himself. Only then
could he move on and look ahead.
At some point in his drunken ruminations Victor realized that tying up the
loose threads would definitely involve finding out where the Director had
stashed the sex tapes that she had of him and Mulder. He needed to find them
and needed to destroy them. He had to find a way to get back the secretly
recorded videos, which the Director had made of him and Mulder and the first
time they had gotten together two weeks ago.
Has it only been two weeks since we've met? Seems so much longer than that.
God, it feels like I've known the man forever. Stop it, Mansfield. Concentrate
on the tapes.
It wasn't fair to Fox; he had absolutely no idea that there were tapes of
themó-tapes with the potential to ruin both their careers. Tapes graphic enough
in their contents that they would get Mulder fired should
anyone in the FBI to see them.
After much consideration Victor came to a decision and in slow motion
reached for the phone. Pushing the second button on his speed dial, he waited
and listened to the phone on the other end ring one, two, three times before
being answered.
"Yeah," mumbled a sleep-addled voice.
"Mac?" Victor said hesitantly.
"Victor, is that you? What's wrong?" Mac sat up immediately and flicked on
his bedside light, squinting against the brightness. His concern evident in his
voice.
"Mac, can you come over? I know it's late but I need to talk to you right
away." Victor spoke softly into the phone, suddenly suspicious that she
may have tapped his phone as well.
"I'm on my way." Mac wondered briefly why Victor was speaking so quietly.
But before Mac could ask any more questions, Victor said, "See you in a
few then" and hung up without saying goodbye.
Mac leaped out of bed and began to quickly dress.
Mac stood outside of Victor's building impatiently pressing the buzzer. He had
driven like a mad man all the way over to his partner's apartment, and he was
more than a little anxious to see what was going on with him. For Victor to
phone in the wee hours of the morning was already unusual in itself, but then
to have him say cryptically that he needed to see Mac, was even more
irregular.
Mac had a hard time concentrating while he was driving over and his
constant reminders to himself to stay calm did not work at all. His thoughts,
full of visions of Victor in peril, kept on getting away from him. Presently,
he was imagining the worst case scenarios possible, like maybe Vic was being
held hostage again or maybe he had hurt himself, perhaps on purpose. And was
now calling out to Mac for help.
Stop it! He isn't suicidal for God's sake! Vic would never
intentionally hurt himself. Or at least I hope he wouldn't
Three weeks ago Mac would have told anyone who asked him, that he knew his
partner Victor Mansfield inside and out. But now, he really couldn't say for
sure what Vic would and would not do. For one thing, he never even had the
slightest idea that Victor was 'into' men. His partner had never given him
any hint of such a preference.
I guess you really can't know a person completely
After frantically pushing the button marked 1602 again and again and getting
no answer, Mac's anxiety level went up another notch.
Damn, why isn't he answering?!
Fortunately his anxiety was relieved when Victor finally answered the
summons a moment later.
Victor's even voice coming through the intercom slightly distorted, asked
simply, "Mac, that you?"
"Who else did you invite over at this time of the night? Let me in, for
Christ sakes, before I get mugged. Your neighborhood is dangerous at this time
of the night."
As soon as he heard the lock slide back, Mac flung open the double-wide glass
doors and headed straight for the stairs, not even bothering to wait for the
elevator. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached his destination in two
minutes flat. He rapped once on Vic's door before twisting the knob and walking
in without waiting for an invitation to enter.
Closing the door behind himself, Mac, out of breath, picked a small grain
of sleep from the corner of his eye as he called out, "Vic, where are you?"
Victor popped up from between the love seat and coffee table and answered,
"I'm Here" He had been on his hands and knees examining the bottom of his love
seat for any 'bugs' that might have been hidden there. He stood up, wiping the
palms of his hands down the back pockets of his blue jeans.
Confused, Mac asked, "Whatcha'' doin'?"
"Looking for spying devices. Who knows how many the Director may have
planted and where," Victor replied nonchalantly. "Want some coffee? You look
half-asleep. And before you ask: Yes, I have been drinking and it was about a
half a bottle of 'Jack'. So now I need to sober up so we can talk; that's why
I'm brewing coffee at... ," Vic looked at his wristwatch, "... 3:30 in the
morning."
Vic gave Mac a wan smile and then without waiting for a reply, went into the
kitchen and poured Mac and himself each a large mug of the dark brown liquid.
"Well I wasn't going to ask, but since you brought it up, I can tell that
you've had a few. What's going on? Did the Director bug your place too? How
come? Remember when I was going to get married? She bugged my bedroom and then
used a private conversation I had against me. Shit, I thought she only did
those things when she was looking for some good material to tame her out of
control agents, like me." Mac suddenly realized that he was rambling. Unable
to deny his curiosity any longer, Mac asked casually after a beat, "So, where's
Mulder?"
All day he had been dying to know what had happened after he had left Mulder
earlier that afternoon, but there was no way he was going to phone Vic to find
out. He was certain that Vic would eventually tell him what had happened
anyway. Now, judging by the fact that Victor had been getting drunk on Jack
Daniels, Mac figured it was safe to assume that Mulder had had his 'talk' with
Vic.
On the other hand, LiAnne did call him earlier that day to tell him about
her own talk with Victor. She had been all worked up, convinced that Mulder was
"brainwashing" Victor. When Mac finally managed to wheedle the entire
story out of LiAnne, all he could think of to say to her was a rather
unsympathetic sounding, "Well I told you so, didn't I?".
After which LiAnne ended the phone call by calling Mac "a selfish
prick" before hanging up on him. He never had a chance to explain that the
'I told you so' bit didn't come out quite right; though by the time the
inconsiderate and offending words had slipped out, he knew it was too late to
take them back and substitute them with something she wanted to hear.
As he had correctly predicted to LiAnne, there really was no way that Vic
would want to get back together with her. Mac knew that Vic, being the
intelligent guy that he was, always learned his lesson the first time around.
LiAnne had already kicked Vic in the balls onceó-he would never give her
another chance to do it again.
Presently, Victor was handing Mac a mug of coffee and saying, "Listen, I'll
tell you everything... in a few minutes. Just let me shower first so I can
shake out the cobwebs. So far, I've swept every room except the living room.
Could you finish checking it out for me while I shower? After that, I promise
to let you in on what's going on."
Victor smiled up shyly at Mac, who in turn, nodded in assent and mumbled
"yeah sure," more curious now than ever.
Victor turned around and went into the bathroom.
Mac's eyes followed Vic's back as he walked toward the bathroom. He did
not close the door properly, and he ended up leaving it slightly ajar. There
was about a two-inch gap between the door and the doorjamb, and from this angle
Mac was able to see into the mirror over the sink, which reflected back to him
the image of Victor undressing, his back to Mac in the mirror.
Unable to turn away, Mac exhaled lightly and his throat went dry when he
caught a flash of one of Victor's long lean thighs and a perfectly rounded,
snow white buttock. He watched as Victor bent over at the waist and cranked on
the water.
Standing perfectly still, Mac watched as Victor adjusted the water
temperature, pushed aside the shower curtain and stepped into the steamy
cubicle. Unaware, all the while that he was being watched.
Then the curtain swung closed and Mac's view of his partner was gone, but
he continued to stare dreamily into the mirror anyway. Thinking of the
possibilities.
What a great ass.
Only when the room began to fog over, obscuring his view of the whole room,
did he shake out of his daze.
What a great ass? Holy shit! What am I thinking? So I'm a voyeur now?
Snap out of it, Ramsey!
Reluctantly, Mac tore his gaze away from the bathroom and was humiliated to
discover that he was sporting a semi-erection.
Great! This oughta' earn me a punch in the head!
Trying to regain some semblance of control, he set his mug down and began
searching around the living room for listening devices or any other possible
surveillance equipment that the Director would not be above using. Using the
distraction to trying to forget the fact that he had been fantasizing about a
man whom he knew didn't return the same feelings.
Twenty minutes later, Vic emerged from the misty bathroom feeling
rejuvenated. The coffee and hot shower had helped him in alleviating the
effects of the alcohol. Padding quietly from the bathroom wrapped in nothing
but a towel, he stopped by the living room to check on Mac's progress. Victor
saw his partner on his hands and knees, engrossed in examining the spines of
the books at the bottom row of his large black bookcase. Mac was so intent in
his task that he didn't even notice Victor was standing there.
Vic smiled easily at the sight before continuing down the hall to his bedroom
to dress. He towel dried off and then pulled on a large white T-shirt and
light grey sweat pants, not bothering with socks or underwear. He quickly ran a
comb through his hair before shutting off the light and going out to join Mac
in the living room.
Mac's inspection of the book spines complete, he rose from his knees and
dusted off his hands by brushing them against each other. Turning around, he
was startled by Vic's presence. "Oh, done already? Well I've checked the whole
room and I couldn't find anything."
"Great, thanks for doing that. I ran out of hot water actually so I had no
choice, I was driven out. Besides, I needed more coffee." Victor grinned
lightly and then hesitated, letting the silence spread out between them. In the
shower he had known exactly what he had wanted to say to Mac, but now that it
was time actually talk, the right words seemed to have evaporated from his
head; like the steam from the shower had done in the bathroom.
Mac stared at Victor expectantly, waiting for him to make the first move,
since it was his phone call that had gotten Mac up and over to his apartment in
the first place.
Might as well get it over with. Victor finally decided to himself.
He walked over to the love seat, seating himself then suggesting with a
sweep of his arm for Mac to join him. The two men oriented themselves so that
they could face one another while they talked. A small wave of sadness washed
over Vic as he remembered being seated this way not too long ago with another
man, whom he was already missing immensely.
Pushing aside the thoughts of longing, Vic cleared his throat and looking Mac
straight in the eye and began, "Look, Mac, I'm sorry I made you come over here
so late... " Vic stopped and grinned when he realized what time it was
already,"... actually, I should say, so early in the morning... but I couldn't
wait until we saw each other at the agency to talk to you."
Mac grinned at Vic. "It's okay, I was only sleeping anyway." His attempt at
humor suddenly made Vic thankful that some people never change.
"What is it that couldn't wait?" inquired Mac, whose curiosity level was in
high gear now.
Vic held up his hand and shushed him. "If you'd let me finish without
interrupting me, I'll tell you."
Mac nodded in exaggerated acquiescence. "By all means go on... "
"Thanks," said Vic with a hint of humor, "I will. Okay... well I have
something to tell you, and I think you should hear it from me first before the
Director or LiAnne get a hold of you. I'm not too sure how much you know, or
what you've been told, but here's the thing, Fox Mulder and I were... uh...
involved... um...
Spit it out for Christ sakes!
...romantically... during the time when he first arrived here to work on a
profile for a case with me."
There, I got it out Vic was relieved.
To his amazement, he did not see an expression of anything that was
remotely close to shock, horror, or even surprise on Mac's face.
Unsure of what Mac was thinking, Victor asked, "You're not disturbed by
that?"
"No. Actually I'm not." Knowing that he should elaborate further, Mac
explained, "When you were missing, I dropped by here to see if you might be
home and in trouble. I... um... checked out the whole place. My investigative
skills are pretty good, you know. I mean, I knew Mulder was staying here since
no hotels were available. I walked through the apartment and I saw the towels
in the bathroom, the glasses and on the table and... ," Mac had the delicacy
to cough lightly into his hand at this point in the awkwardness,"... the used
Kleenex in the bedroom. And your bedroom... well... to be honest... it really
reeked of... um, sex."
Mac could barely say the word 'sex' to Victor, especially since it applied to
him and Mulder. "Not to mention the fact that after we got you out of Jack's
clutches and into the Agency's infirmary, the first coherent thing you said
when you regained consciousness was to ask for 'him'. There was no need to
elaborate on who 'him' was
"Well by then I managed to put two and two together and figure it out for
myself." He finished lamely.
Victor stared. So much for my big secret!
"I see," was all he could think of in response. He fell silent for a moment
before asking nervously, "We're still friends though, right?"
"Of course we are! Best friends. Who do you think I am? Do you think I'm the
type of guy who would dump his friend just because he's gay? I'm not like that,
Vic. I promise." Mac had started off by sounding offended, but he eventually
softened his tone when he caught the reproachful look on Victor's face.
"I'm sorry, Mac. I shouldn't have doubted you. Not that you've given me any
reason too in the first place. At least you're taking this a lot better than
LiAnne did."
"Yeah well, first of all, I'm not LiAnne. Second of all, it's not like I was
about to ask you to get back together with me or anything like that," Mac
jibed.
"She told you about that, eh?" Vic was genuinely surprised that LiAnne had
told Mac about his rejection of her since it was a rather embarrassing moment
for her.
"Oh yeah, she told me all right. And when I didn't give her the answer she
was looking for she called me a selfish prick and then hung up on me."
Vic laughed. In a way, it was comforting to know LiAnne would never change
either. "Well if the idea of me and Mulder dancing beneath the sheets doesn't
really shock you, maybe this will; the Director videotaped Mulder and I when
we were... you know... together. She even showed me the tapes and told me that
if I didn't start following her rules a little more closely from now on, then
she would show the tapes around." Vic was no longer laughing as his indignation
was beginning to build. "You know what I said to her when she threatened me?"
Mac, who had been listening to Victor's words intently, leaned forward and
answered simply, "No, what?"
"I told her that she could show those tapes to whoever the hell she wanted to
and that I quit. Oh man, Mac, you should have seen me. I was shouting at her
about how I pay my own way, that this was my apartment and she had no right to
do what she did."
Mac had spoken the words, "Wow, that's pretty ballsy," during Vic's tirade,
but the other man was so involved in his own harangue that he didn't even hear
Mac.
Vic went on, "After I was finished yelling I did try to walk out. You won't
believe what happened next. That old bitch pulled a gun on me! Can you believe
it?!"
Mac nodded, he too, had a previous experience where the Director had pulled a
gun on him.
"Well anyway, she wouldn't even allow me the dignity of quitting on my own
terms. Instead, she told me that she wouldn't show the tapes to anyone in the
Agency, but that she would send them to Fox's boss instead so he'd get fired."
"Wow, what a bitch!" Mac exclaimed in support.
"You know what the worst thing about this whole mess is?" Vic asked of Mac,
who subsequently shook his head in response. "The worst thing is that Mulder
doesn't even know he was recorded; I never told him. It was a set-up, Mac. A
set-up from the very beginning and I walked right into it with my stupid eyes
wide open."
Victor hung his head and rubbed his hand over his forehead. After a second of
silence between the two men, Victor sighed heavily and continued. "She knew
ahead of time that Mulder had a former partner who looked just like me and she
also knew that Mulder had a thing for that partner. The Director also figured
out stuff about me that I didn't even know or understand about myself.
She set the stage and got us to perform like puppets on strings for the
cameras... we made it easy for her. The case profile on Jack was the just
catalyst for getting us together in the first place. Mac... " Victor's eyes
remained downcast as he said the next words, "... I need you to help me. I need
you to help me find those tapes so I can steal them. I need to destroy
them. Once I do that, then maybe, just maybe, I can put this whole thing with
Mulder behind me and move on."
Yessss! Mulder left Mac couldn't help thinking in selfishly.
He reached forward and rested his large hand on Vic's shoulder, squeezing
lightly while he asked, "So it's over between you and Mulder then?"
The effect Mac's hand on Victor's shoulder had was electrical. With visions
of Jack and what he had done still fresh in his thoughts, Victor snapped his
head up and glared at Mac, he leapt up from the small couch and backed away.
Mac was stunned. He had no idea what he had done wrong. "What the hell are
you doing?!" Victor was demanding angrily, "Why did you grab me like that?!"
"Vic? What's wrong? What did I do? I'm sorry, I didn't grab... " Mac's voice
trailed off and he was confused. He had thought that he was just laying a
comforting hand on Victor's shoulder. Just like he'd done many times before.
Not once had Victor gotten all worked up over it like he was doing now.
Suddenly realizing the big mistake that he had just made, Victor tried
smiling to cover up the emotions that he was really feeling. "I'm okay. It's
okay, " he lied. "Sorry to go all ballistic on you, partner. You didn't do
anything wrong. It's just that... that whole... "
Damn tears! Not again!
Victor fought the threatening onslaught. In order to finish what he was
saying he had to turn around so that his back was facing Mac. Victor didn't
want Mac to see anything revealing on his face.
"...that whole Jack thing... sorry. I can't really stand being touched when
I'm off guard like that." He gulped in some air by taking a few deep breaths,
and when he had his emotions firmly under control again, only then did Victor
turn back around to face Mac. He smiled again and intoned humorlessly, "Being
chained to a wall and force-fed drugs will do that to ya."
Victor was trying to be careful not to make any mention of the real reasons
why he didn't like to be touched when he was unaware, he certainly didn't want
Mac to draw any of the obvious conclusions.
"Come back and sit down, Vic. I won't touch you again. I promise."
Shit what really happened in that basement?
Mac moved way over to his side of the couch so that Victor would have plenty
of space.
The gallant gesture did not go unnoticed by Vic, but he didn't comment on
it; he couldn't comment on it. Victor felt terrible for jumping all over Mac
just for making touching him innocently. But he couldn't help himself. The
psychological wounds Jack had left on him were still too recent; his mind
hadn't even formed scabs over them yet.
Victor stared resolutely at the rug. "To answer your question, yes, Mulder
and I are through. We decided that it just wouldn't work out. There's too much
going against us. But I don't want to talk about Mulder right now, or Jack
for that matter. What I really want to talk about is how are we going to get
those tapes back."
Victor ran his fingers through his hair. He felt defeated, and whispering
in a dejected voice he said, "My life's floundering in the toilet at this
point, Mac. This last week I wouldn't have wished on even my worst enemy. You
know, there was a time, during when Jack had me that I actually thought that
the director may be behind the whole thing?
It wasn't until he stuck the needle in my arm and pumped me full of heroin
that I fully realized that this guy was for real and working alone." Vic's
eyes remained on the rug beneath his feet. He didn't trust himself to look up
at Mac. He was afraid to betray too much of himself to his partner.
"Mac, I need to get those tapes back." Then he added so softly that Mac
almost didn't hear, "I need to get 'myself' back."
When Victor finally did look up, his eyes were full of sadness and were shiny
with unshed tears. "Will you help me, Mac?" implored Victor. "Will you help me
get my self-respect back?"
Mac knew his answer to the question even before Victor had asked it. He had,
after all, vowed to himself privately that he would always be there for Victor.
"Don't worry Vic, I'll help you. We'll figure out a way to get them back."
I'll do you anything you want, Victor. Anything at all.
LiAnne entered the large meeting room, which was empty, she had intentionally
arrived early for the conference with the director. The meeting would no
doubt, be about a new assignment for her and the 'boys'. LiAnne did not want
to be stuck sitting in the middle of the guys; the mere thought of her being
trapped between her two partners for an hour repulsed her. She was fed up with
the guys and still pissed off at them from the day before. LiAnne had not
gotten over the fact that she was handed a double whammy by both of her best
friends on the same day.
First by Victor and then by Mac. When Victor had turned down her proposal
to get back together, that had hurt her beyond belief. And then, when she had
phoned Mac in search of some solace and a little understanding, he had given
her the cold shoulder instead of words of comfort. She felt slighted by his
perspective, and his lack of interest in her tale of woe was more than she
could bear. In LiAnne's mind, Mac had basically thrown salt into the wounds
that Vic had flayed open. So this morning, both of them were assholes as far as
she was concerned.
Tomorrow, she thought, I'll think about forgiving both of them.
However, today she planned to make them pay for their previous cruelties,
whether they were intentional or not. LiAnne was seated and reading through
some sort of a case file when Mac arrived for the meeting.
"Good morning," he chirped cheerily as he settled himself into the middle
chair. "So who are you trying to avoid, me or Vic?" he needled. Mac
chuckled softly when LiAnne only responded by telling him to go to hell. Mac
enjoyed teasing LiAnne, even though she didn't seem to want any part of his
good mood. The increase in her annoyance level was really the fun part about
bugging her, Mac could not resist giving her a hard time.
Right about the time when LiAnne was busy telling Mac to fuck off,
Vic pushed open the glass doors. He was the last agent to show for the early
morning meeting, walking through the doors he greeted both of his partners
with a perfunctory "mornin'" only, which was actually grumbled out since in
addition to not having had enough sleep from the night before, he had a low
grade hangover on top of it all.
Mac's eyes followed his partner's entrance, all the way through the room
until Victor sat down next to him, in the only unoccupied chair.
Pulling out his chair, Vic noticed that Mac sat in the middle, not LiAnne
as usual. Victor guessed that she was probably trying to make some sort of
silent statement to him.
Don't care. Or at least not this morning anyway.
He dropped himself carelessly into his chair and plucked the sunglasses
he had been wearing off and tucked them away into his shirt pocket. Victor gave
Mac a long knowing glance before pulling his chair forward, so that it was
close enough to the table for him to lean over and rest his head on crossed
forearms. With his eyes facing down towards the table, Vic shut them, trying
to relieve some of the ache that he was feeling in them, secretly wishing that
he had eaten more than just two Tylenol with his morning coffee for breakfast.
As he rested Victor ran through his head all the possible locations where the
Director might have hid the tapes of Mulder and him. He figured she would want
the incriminating material close to hand, so the most logical place to start
searching would be her personal office. And then if it's not in the agency
then try her apartment. Wherever that was. He had actually never been there
before, but he knew LiAnne has.
Hmm, I wonder which one of us does she hate less today. Mac or me? Or rather,
which one of us would have the balls to ask her the apartment's location?
Victor's body relaxed into the table as he continued to run various
possibilities through his fatigued brain.
LiAnne had only given Victor's entrance a quick sideways glance before
turning back to the file that had her so seemingly engrossed. She had not even
bothered to acknowledge Victor's curt greeting at all as she shook her papers
noisily. LiAnne turned her chair away from the men so that her back was towards
them.
Mac stared at her for a second. But knowing LiAnne as well as he did, he
realized that if he tried to make up with her now, the only result that would
come out of the endeavor, would be him on the receiving a black eye or
worse.
I'll just buy her a Cappuccino later on today. Maybe that'll help
For all his fooling around, Mac knew LiAnne better than anyone else. He
(usually) knew what to say to assuage her feelings and when to say it. And now
was definitely not the right time try and make up with her, so he turned back
toward Vic and pulled his chair up to the table. Leaning in close and without
really thinking of what he was about to do, Mac placed his hand on Victor's
shoulder and whispered, "Are you ok?"
Mac instantly felt the other man's shoulder tighten up, as if he was
cringing. With the memory of Vic's earlier display of startling anger at being
touched racing across his mind, Mac quickly removed his hand. He felt truly
sorry for his partner as he realized that Vic must've been so mentally
traumatized by his experience with Jack; that he was now no longer able to bare
being touched, even when in a gesture of friendship.
"No, I'm all right," replied Vic in hushed tones, feeling guilty for
flinching under Mac's hand. He was not only answering Mac's spoken question but
he also wanted to convey to his friend that it was okay that Mac had touched
him. "It's just that I've got an open welt where your hand was. That's why I
bunched up like that," he explained, even though it was only half of the truth.
Both men were sitting so close that Mac's forehead was touching Victor's
temple. "Mac, after this meeting we should go somewhere and talk about what
we're gonna do..."
"well, well, well, what's the big secret boys?" the director's voice suddenly
interrupted. The two of them were so intent on their own hushed discussion
that they didn't even hear the Director walk up to stand behind them. The
unexpected question startled them; they snapped their heads to attention while
sitting up straight.
Mac immediately blushed red across his cheeks, feeling a sudden, brief pang
of embarrassment for enjoying his closeness in proximity to Victor. He felt
like he had just been caught peeking at his father's playboy magazine or
something. He continued to face forward, his head turned away from the Director
while he calmed the redness out of his cheeks. Victor, on the other hand,
turned to glance at the director with sleep weary eyes before turning back and
fishing his sunglasses from his pocket. He put them back on because he wanted
to cover his bruised face and eyes from her view.
"No secret," Victor lied in a calm voice, "We're just discussing how we are
going to have to wrap-up the Jack Douglas file today. Actually, Mac and I need
more time to take of things. Maybe a few hours more this morning if you can
spare them."
He looked over at LiAnne. Who had turned her chair back towards the front
and was now glaring intensely at Vic, as she realized that he had only
mentioned him and Mac. Thereby, excluding her from the wrap-up phase of the
investigation. Sighing, Victor looked away from her and concentrated his gaze
to the front.
"Wait a minute! There's no way you two are going to unload whatever
assignment we're suppose to get today on me. I am not going to work alone
again!" LiAnne exclaimed angrily at her partners.
"Well, since you weren't there at the scene when Mac and Mulder found me
half-dead, you can't very well write a report with your version of what
happened now, can you?" Vic shot back. He knew his tone was sharp, but he was
tired and impatient with her childish antics.
LiAnne opened her mouth to retort but the Director stopped her by saying,
"Now, now, no fighting in the sandbox boys and girl. He's right LiAnne. The
Agency really does want Vic's report on his account of what took place, backed
up by Mac's version of events. Why don't you start on some of the legwork on
the new assignment today and then, when Mac and Vic are done with their
reports, they'll join you."
LiAnne, in response, only glared daggers at her superior. Unfazed by the
dirty look, the Director shrugged her shoulders and then took out three files
from the top drawer of her cabinet. She handed them to the three agents and
went on to brief them before they left to work on their individual assignments.
Mac pushed away his half-empty plate of fries and sipped his Heineken. He
watched Victor from under veiled lashes; he had actually been watching the
other man all morning. For some reason, Mac could not stop looking at Victor
and the bruises around his eyes. He felt a flash of anger each time he looked.
He was still upset at himself for not being there to protect Victor from Jack's
clutches. He knew that there was nothing he could do about that now, so he was
determined to protect Victor from the Director's underhanded ways at least.
Clearing his throat, Mac questioned, "So where do you want to start?"
Victor, who wasn't really hungry at all, stopped spreading his food around
the plate with his fork and looked up at Mac. He did not quite catch what Mac
said; he had been to engrossed in his thoughts of Mulder. Actually Victor was
wondering where Fox might be just then and what he might be doing before his
reverie was broken by Mac's voice.
"Hmm? What?" he asked before clearing his throat and trying again,
"Wh-what did you say?"
It was obvious to Mac that Vic's mind was on other things, and he had a good
suspicion what those other things might be. He guessed at first that Vic was
probably thinking of Jack again, but then, upon seeing the look on Vic's
face—a far-a-way and mildly sad expressionóhe decided that Vic was most likely
thinking about Mulder. A wave of longing rolled over Mac, but he pushed the
feelings aside and tried again, "I said, where do you want to start? Have you
thought about it?"
"Maybe we should go to the records room to dictate our accounts of what
happened first. Nathan can type them up and log them in for us. That way, we
can get the report over and done with," Vic replied.
"Yeah, he'll type yours up for you, but he won't for me," Mac lamented,
wondering not for the first time, why he even bothered working at a place where
all the people seemed to hate him.
"Nah, I'm sure if I ask nicely, he'll do them both for us. Trust me on this.
He thinks I'm a part of some group he calls the upper illuminati, or
something like that." Vic pushed his plate aside and took a sip of his beer
before continuing on.
"After that we'll ask Nathan about the Director's officeówhether or not she
has a secret hiding place or a safe. While we're at it, we should also talk to
him about the Agency too; find out about security, spying devicesÖthose types
of things. If we end up having to break into the Director's office I want to
be prepared for anything and everything. I think Nathan's the most logical
person to ask; he should be able give us a place to start looking for what
we're after."
Vic drained the last of his beer and put the empty bottle aside. He then
rubbed his eyes which were becoming more tired under the glare of the
flourescent lighting.
Victor not only sounded tired to Mac; but he looked it too. There were dark
circles beneath his slightly puffy eyes that had nothing to do with the
bruising that still marked his face. But Mac knew better than to suggest to Vic
that he go home and take a nap before talking to Nathan. He understood that
Victor needed to tie up all the loose ends as soon as possible so that he could
begin to put everything behind him.
Actually, the thought of breaking into the Director's office held a certain
perverse appeal for Mac; he knew that the consequence of being caught in the
act could very well mean life or death for them. If the Director was not
beneath recording agents in the privacy of their own homes, who knew what she
would be capable of if she caught a couple of her agents violating the privacy
of her own inner sanctum. Mac craved the thrill of living on the edge.
Besides, he missed planning and performing a good break-in.
Toss in a hard safe to crack as well and he was in heaven. Victor's outlook,
on the other hand, was not as optimistic. In fact, he looked positively glum.
"What's the matter, Vic? You look like Eeyore," Mac commented. Forgetting his
earlier caution, Mac grabbed Vic's shoulders and gave them a friendly shake,
hoping that would lighten the guy's morose mood.
"Nothing. I was just thinking," Victor replied absently.
"About what?" asked Mac.
Mulder
Not wanting to get into it again with Mac, Vic evaded answering, he stood
up and tossed his napkin on top of the almost full plate of food he had left
behind. "It's nothing important. Let's go and get started," he said. "The
sooner we find the tape, the better."
Mac left some bills onto the table and walked out ahead of Victor. In an
effort to distract himself from having more thoughts about Fox Mulder, Victor
turned his mind to other things instead.
Do I really look as bad as Eeyore?, he wondered. Maybe Mac's just teasing
me. Wait a minute, he just called me a damn ass! And he got away with it!
Smiling mischievously at Mac's back, Vic extended one lanky leg and lightly
pushed the toe of his Dayton boot into the back of Mac's left knee. The
unexpected gesture caused Mac's knee to buckle, throwing him off balance.
"Hey!" Mac exclaimed indignantly, "What was that for?!" But his tone was
light-hearted and he smiled when he caught sight of the large, almost radiant
grin on Vic's lips.
"That was for calling me a donkey, Piglet!" Vic retorted jokingly.
"Piglet?" Mac was puzzled. At first he didn't get the connection between him
and that cartoon character. Piglet was such a little guy; they shared nothing
in common.
"Yeah Piglet," Vic repeated. "With the amount of food you just put away, you
could feed the children in a small country."
Mac tossed one of his witty comebacks over his shoulder back to the man
walking behind him. Vic laughed, genuinely laughed, glad to have his mind taken
off of Fox Mulder and everything else that was going wrong in his life if just
for one second.
"Naaaathan..." Victor was cooing softly and directly into his ear.
"Would you mind terribly if I asked one teeny, tiny favor of you?" Victor was
holding up his thumb and forefinger and pinching them together to emphasize how
small the favor actually was. Vic blew a hot breath of air into Nathan's ear,
making him shiver in response.
"Wh...what favor would that be Victor?" he stammered.
"I really need you to me find me the floor plans for the Dominion Museum and
help me figure out the security alarm codes. Mac and I are planning to rob it
and we just can't do the job with out you."
"Yeah? So what will you do for me in return if I help you out?" Nathan
braved. He was becoming erect just from having Victor stand so close to him.
"Anything you want Nathan, anything at all." Victor's husky breath exhaled
soft puffs of warm breath back into Nathan's ear, sending delightful shivers
down his back.
"Okay, but you have to give me what I want first, then I'll help you out,"
Nathan dared. Now he was most definitely, with out a doubt, fully erect. He
frowned slightly at the agent when Vic left his side, but the other man was
only moving to stand a couple of feet away in front of him instead.
"It's a deal. What can I do for you?" Nathan felt Victor's large green eyes
rake him over from head to toe.
"First you can come over here and kiss me, then we'll take it from there,"
Nathan replied boldly. He was surprised to find that he was not even a little
bit flustered, but rather in full control of himself and of Victor.
Without hesitation Vic closed the short distance between them and placed his
hands on either side of Nathan's face. Nathan watched passively as Victor held
on to him and searched his eyes. He knew what Victor would see in them-desire
and need for the agent.
With a sharp intake of breath, Victor bent his head and pressed his soft lips
upon Nathan's willing mouth. Nathan's tongue peeked out and prodded Victor's
mouth open; he wrapped it around the other man's tongue in excitement. Nathan
moaned in protest when he felt Victor removing his hands from his face, but
then was delighted to be pulled into a tight embrace so that their mutual
erections could rub against each other.
Victor broke the seal of their kiss first. "Ohhh, Nathan," he moaned.
"Nathan....
"Naaathan." Called Victor softly, and when the young man did not wake he
tried shaking him again, more firmly, "Nathan. Wake up." The other man was
asleep in a black leather chair, sitting behind his desk that was stacked high
with various papers and photos. It seemed like, to Victor, that he was
dreaming, and judging by the large smile on the Nathan's face, Vic guessed
that it was probably a good dream. "Hey, Nathan," Vic tried again.
Startled, Nathan came awake quickly, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and
was suprised to see that it was Victor, of all people who had woken him up.
Oh God, why did it have to be him?, he thought, thoroughly embarrassed.
Vic smiled at the paper pusher and backed away until he was standing on the
other side of the desk, a gesture Nathan was grateful for considering the
sizable erection he was sporting as a result of the intense dream featuring
Victor and himself.
"S-s-sorry, I guess I fell asleep reading these ch-charts. What can I do
for...V-victor?" Nathan stuttered, once again unable to stop himself from
becoming flustered while in Vic's presence.
"Actually, Nathan, I need to ask you for a huge favor, and it's a favor that
I hope you could just keep between us." Vic's voice was so smooth to Nathan's
ears that he believed that Vic could have charmed the silk right out of a silk
worm just then.
"Sh-sh-sure Victor. Anything. Anything you like; anything at all. You name
it," the nervous man replied.
Vic looked directly at Nathan with raised eyebrows in silent question. But
Victor decided to let the comment pass and asked instead, "Actually Nathan, I
have two favors to ask you. The first is that I need your help with typing up
these oral..." Vic didn't notice Nathan's slight quiver at the mention of
oral. "...reports Mac and I dictated. We need them logged in too if you can
handle that..."
Nathan was staring at Victor's mouth, mesmerized by the low tone he spoke in
and by the way speech rolled off of the other man's tongue and glided through
his pink lips. Nathan wished he had the guts to just grab Victor and shove his
tongue down the older man's throat.
"Are you listening to me? Hello? Nathan?" Vic asked, suddenly aware that
Nathan had been open-mouthed, staring at him. His strange behavior had Victor
mildly baffled. He knew that Nathan tended get jumpy when he was around, but
the way he was zoning out on him now made Victor think that maybe something was
really wrong. "What's the matter, Nathan? Are you okay?"
Dragging himself out of yet another fantasy involving Victor Mansfield,
Nathan shook off his indecent vision and pulled himself together before the
agent could get mad at him. "Oh, no I'm okay, really" When he saw the look of
concern on Vic's face, he added, "Yeah, I can do that for you, but Mac's on his
own. Did you know that he put a goldfish in my water cooler last week?"
Victor groaned and suppressed a smile at Mac's antics. Victor couldn't
figure out why Mac didn't realize that by pulling such pranks on the employees
that he was only digging himself a bigger hole. Then again, maybe his partner
just didn't care about the repercussions.
"That bastard!" Victor said in mock semi-anger. "I'll teach him a lesson
for you myself. I promise, he won't do something like that again. Really,"
Vic tried to make himself look sincere to Nathan by opening his eyes wide.
While at the same time, he was really trying to control the grin that was
threatening to break out across his face at the thought of a goldfish swimming
around in Nathan's beloved water cooler. Vic knew full well there was no way
of stopping Mac and his tricks, but he did not feel compelled to tell Nathan
that.
Nathan hesitated as if in thought before answering, "Okay. I'll do both. But
only because YOU asked me to. Ramsey can do his own report next time." Nathan
smiled up at Victor, "What's the second favor?"
Victor leaned forward over the desk so that he was almost nose to nose with
Nathan, totally oblivious of the effect that he was having on the man. "I need
you to tell me everything you know about the Agency and the Director's office,
specifically any and all surveillance camera and other hidden devices there
might be inside.
I need to know where, in the office, the Director hides her personal
belongings for safe keeping. I also need to know where her own apartment is,
and what kind of security measures she follows while there. I'll take anything
and everything you've got Nathan."
Victor leaned in even closer so that Nathan caught a scent of his minty
breath. He whispered knowing how much Nathan liked subterfuge, "I need you to
keep this just between you and me. Can you do that for me Nathan? Can you give
me what I need?"
Nathan, basking in Victor's nearness to him, felt his cock jump at Vic's
innocent 'Can you give me what I need'. Nathan wished that Victor had
meant something else and was actually 'coming on' to him instead. But he was
not that crazy, he knew that Victor would never flirt with him, and if Nathan
tried to do so to Victor, that would only succeed in getting the crap kicked
out of him. He wanted to stay on Victor's good side even though the man more
times than not scared him silly with the aura of danger that he had about him.
While in the same token, it was Victor's 'dangerous' undercurrents that excited
him so. Victor had a starring role in all of Nathan's fantasies. In his mind,
Vic was the ultimate secret agent.
Without hesitation, Nathan replied, "Okay, I'll tell you what you want to
know and I promise to..." He could barely say the next phrase; this
conversation was becoming a one-sided wet dream for Nathan. "...to k-keep it
just between the two of us." And he meant it too; he would never tell another
living soul what he was about to tell Victor. No one realized just how much
Nathan did know about the Agency, and not just the inner-workings of it either.
Had anyone else known, no doubt one Director or another would have eventually
found a way to get rid of him since the Agency liked to keep their secrets all
to them selves. Nathan was genuinely worried that he might get into trouble;
but he believed that the rewards far outweighed the risks in this case. The
thought of him sitting with Victor for a couple of hours alone in a quiet room,
with both of their heads and bodies close together, further solidified his
decision. "Okay, um, well, the Director has a safe hidden..." Nathan began.
Vic listened intently as Nathan told him everything he knew about the
Director's office and the rest of the building.
"Thanks Nate. I owe you one." Victor grasped Nathan's shoulders with his
large hands and squeezed to emphasize his gratitude, not realizing that he was
actually hurting Nathan slightly.
The reed thin, information man didn't mind though; at least he would be able
to see a bruise and remember how close he had been to his idol. Today's
proceedings would be providing Nathan with jack-off material for several nights
to come. He couldn't wait to go home.
Nathan desperately wanted to tell Vic that all he had to do was give him a
kiss to be even, so that Victor wouldn't 'owe him one' anymore, but he didn't
dare broach the subject. Instead he only said, "Don't mention it... Vic. Just
don't tell anyone what I told you or I'm in big trouble."
Victor smiled and thanked Nathan again. On his way out of the records room,
he wondered why Mac didn't have enough common sense to get on Nathan's good
side. The jittery, eccentric man was a fountain of information. Vic thought
that Nathan was an okay kid; perhaps a little too wrapped in the his belief in
the existence of a 'upper illuminati' and conspiracies, but a good kid
nevertheless.
Had Victor looked back before he left the room, he would have seen the look
of longing and desire on Nathan's face as he watched the agent leave.
Part Fourteen: Consequences and Truths
Victor walked down the long hall and turned the corner. His attention was so
focused in on processing the information that Nathan had given him that he
didn't even see Mac, who was lounging casually behind a cement pillar waiting
for him.
Mac had actually picked the position because he was hidden from
view; he didn't want anyone in the Agency spotting him in the building.
Especially not LiAnne or their the Director.
Victor, with his eyes downcast in thought, walked right by his partner.
Mac smiled slightly and thinking that Vic had seen him, pushed himself away
from his place of concealment, walking behind Victor in an attempt to catch up
to him.
Mac approached his partner from behind almost soundlessly, he had been a
thief for long, that walking softly was an unconscious habit. The fine art of
being a thief depended one's stealthiness. He reached out an arm and when he
caught up to Vic, he grabbed the other man's wrist, saying as he did so, "Hey
Vic wait up. What did Nathan..." Mac never had a chance to complete his
question.
Startled out of his thoughts, all Victor's mind registered was that someone
suddenly had a tight grip on his wrist. He panicked and adrenaline took over
his body by reacting swiftly with violence. Striking out in automatic
retaliation he whirled around and landed a solid blow to Mac's left eye,
knocking his surprised partner down. Victor had his gun drawn and aimed for
right between Mac's eyes before the other agent even realized what had
happened.
"You bastard," Victor, wide eyed, hissed malevolently from between clenched
teeth. "I told you if you ever touched me like that again I'd kill you."
Victor was not seeing Mac his partner; but Jack Douglas, tormentor.
"VICTOR! It's me! Mac!" hollered Mac, suddenly very afraid for his own life.
He could tell that Victor wasn't really seeing him at all. His partner seemed
to be almost 'looking' through him.
Victor froze instantly at the sound of Mac's voice, he blinked his eyes clear
and realized immediately that once again, he had made another gigantic mistake
which involved his poor unsuspecting partner.
Victor knuckled away his vision of Jack. Then he quickly holstered his gun
and dropped to his knees directly in front of Mac.
Mac was only just slightly shaken up from being clocked a good one in the
head by Victor, the stars that he initially saw were already gone from his
sight. But he was very surprised by the fact that Vic, his partner, had almost
shot him dead by momentarily mistaking him for Jack.
"Oh, God. Mac, I'm sorry. So sorry," apologized Victor while he held Mac's
head and gave the rapidly swelling left eye a good looking over. He grabbed
Mac's hand and started to pull the partially dazed agent to his feet.
"What just happened Victor?" Mac asked sharply, unimpressed with being once
again, attacked by Victor.
"What's going on with you?" Mac asked more gently, when Vic's answer wasn't
immediately forthcoming.
"I'm... sorry. It was a... an instinctive reaction type of thing. I... you
came up behind me and caught me off-guard, that's all. You know how it is; we
have the same job." Vic felt terrible about hitting Mac, but he was unwilling
to tell Mac the real reason why he had over-reacted the way he did. He hoped
that Mac would buy his lame excuses.
Mac knew Victor well enough to be able to tell whether he was telling the
truth or not, for the most part. And Mac was fairly certain now that his
partner was lying to him. Only the look on Victor's face that made him hold
his tongue. Mac realized that this was neither the time nor the place to go
into it.
"Come on Vic," He said in a friendly tone. ì Let's go to your place and you
can tell me what Nathan said." Mac was willing to drop the unpleasant topic for
now, but he was determined to get the whole story of what happened to Vic
during the time of his captivity. But it could wait until later on, when they
could talk in private.
"Great. I'll stop on the way home and buy some beer. It's going to be a long
night; Nathan had a lot of interesting things to say." As he fell into step
beside Mac, guilty thoughts still coursed around the inside of his head.
Oh god! I almost shot my best friend! What's happening to me?
The trip back to Victor's apartment was a quiet one; the silence only broken
by an occasional comment by one or the other man. Mostly both were deep into
their own thoughts. Once they were inside Vic's apartment, Vic grabbed a brew
for each of them and handed Mac his, then he put away the beer in his
refrigerator. Victor pulled a single wooden chair from the kitchen into the
living room, and placed it across the coffee table from Mac. He sat in it by
straddling it backwards. Body language spoke volumes, and Mac could see right
now Vic's body was screaming to be left alone. He could see the message as
plain as day even though Victor's face remained expressionless. But instead of
mentioning it, Mac settled himself on the love seat.
Victor took a deep swallow of his beer and started right into what he and
Nathan talked about. "My discussion with Nathan proved to be quite
enlightening. In fact, Nathan was more help than I anticipated."
Mac drank from his own lager and then set his bottle down on the small wooden
table before him. "Yeah? What did the records rat have to say?" Mac grinned at
his own alliteration.
"He's really an okay kid, you know. You shouldn't be such a child and play
pranks on people. Actually, I promised him that you wouldn't pull anymore
stunts if he agreed to type and log your report for you." Vic grinned before
saying, "So do me a favor and wait at least two weeks before you put another
piranha in his water tank." Vic laughed lightly and wished he could have the
same light-hearted outlook on life that Mac had.
Mac laughed aloud as well. "Wellll," Mac drawled, "I'll try, but you know
what they say about the leopard not being able to change his spots. Besides, it
was only a goldfish, not a piranha."
"But I think I like the piranha idea better," Mac quipped after a beat. He
drank some more beer before asking, "Seriously what did he say?"
"Well, he says that the Director does have a safe in her office; it's hidden
behind her collection of Stephen King novels." Mac muttered 'Freaky' at his
comments and Victor agreed. ì Oh yeah isn't it?. Actually Nathan says that
they are decoysó-there are no pages in the books at all. Simply pull them away
from the back of the bookcase and there's her safe." Vic ran his hands through
his hair thinking.
"Anyway, knowing where the safe is, is the easy part; the hard part will be
getting past all the security between the front door and the bookcase without
getting caught. Nathan says that there is no video security monitor in the
office, but that the place is wired for motion and sound."
"Motion and sound hmm.. Well it'll be difficult, but not impossible. It'd
be a lot more helpful if we knew where the sensors were hidden," Mac mused
thoughtfully.
Victor put his bottle down and wiped away the small bit of foam that had
dripped down his chin with the back of his hand. Smiling brightly, he stood up
while still straddling the chair and fished around in the front pocket of his
jeans. When he pulled out his hand, he was holding a small piece of white paper
which had been folded several times.
"Here," he said as he flipped the small white square at Mac, "Nathan gave me
this. It's a scaled down photo copy of the plans showing all the sensors..."
"Yesss! Pay dirt." Mac eagerly unfolded the sheet of paper and began to look
over the floor plan.
"See I told you Nathan was okay. He even gave me a map to the Director's
apartment just in case what we're looking for isn't in her office." Vic,
still standing fished around in his back pocket this time and pulled out
several more pieces of papers. As he tossed them over to Mac he said,
"Directions to her apartment and descriptions of her private safe is and where
the security devices are located . He wrote it all down, just for us."
"By the way," Vic added as an afterthought, "he made me promise to burn those
papers once we had them committed to memory." Vic laughed lightly but Nathan
had been serious on the matter, and Victor could see the merits in getting rid
of the evidence. He too, did not want to leave a paper trail. Especially one
that could lead the Director back to helpful man. Victor beamed down at Mac;
hope, which had been absent for so long now, was finally starting to creep back
into his demeanor.
Mac looked up at Victor. He thought about commenting on the fact that the
only agent Nathan ever did stuff for was Victor, but he decided against it.
Mac actually suspected that Nathan probably had a severe
case of hero-worship happening towards Vic; maybe even a bit of a crush. But
Mac knew that Vic was oblivious to Nathan's feelings.
Just as well all things considering.
Mac unfolded the additional pieces of papers and started to read them. He
was actually impressed with the amount of details that Nathan had managed to
put into them.
Victor sat back down and picked up his beer. It was almost empty so he
drained the last dregs away. "Another?" he questioned Mac.
Mac was busy studying the notes Nathan had provided, he merely mumbled a
simple "sure" in response.
When Vic returned from the kitchen with the beers, Mac looked up from what he
was reading. Excitement glinted his eyes. "Breaking into the office will be
hard, but with the information on these...," Mac flapped the papers in the
air, "...the going will be a whole lot easier. I just wish we knew what kind of
safe the Director has." After a moment, he shrugged his shoulders.
"Doesn't really matter. Whatever it is, I can crack it," he boasted and
began to fold up the papers. He planned to look them over again later in his
own apartment.
Victor, grinning at Mac's enthusiasm, proceeded to finish telling Mac
everything else that Nathan had told him. When he was done talking, Vic sat
back and looked at Mac, waiting for an opinion since he was the expert thief.
It went un-spoken between them that Mac would be in charge of getting them in
and out of the Director's office and apartment-if needed-safely.
They were only really doing what they usually did for the Agency, when
they had to break into some place. Mac, along with LiAnne, would always do the
actual breaking in and entering while Victor provided the extra muscle and
back-up. Each man knew their roles; the only difference between this mission
and the ones before was LiAnne's absence, and that was only due to her
ignorance of what they were up to.
"I'll go over these papers and get back to you later about coming up with a
viable plan. Maybe we should we meet for breakfast?" commented Mac as he
tucked away the papers. Vic nodded in agreement.
Mac watched Victor as he took another swallow of his beer and after a few
seconds of awkward silence on Mac's part, he said hesitantly, "Er, Vic...?"
"Yeah?" Vic replied, Unaware of Mac's uneasiness. However, what he was aware
of, was Mac's swollen and purple eye. The bruised spot glared at him like a
neon sign flashing an warning of 'unstable partner ahead', Victor felt guilty
all over again.
"What?" Victor tore his eyes away from the bruise and when he saw the look
on Mac's face, his heart rate sped up. He had a feeling what was coming and he
had been dreading this moment since the incident in the hallway at the Agency,
and maybe even before that. Victor swallowed hard and told himself to remain
calm. After all, Mac might have something else on him mind all together.
Not with my luck.
"I want to know what happened to you today at the agency. I need to know
why you almost blew a hole in my head," Mac stated calmly.
"It was nothing, I told you. I just had a... a... I mistook you for someone
else for just a split second," Victor blurted out. "You know how it is." Victor
smiled weakly.
"No. No, I don't know how it is. Look Vic, you're having problems; that much
I can tell. You jump every time someone touches you and judging by the circles
under your eyes, you're not sleeping well either. Vic, I'm your friend. YOUR
best friend. You can tell me anything and I'll understand. I promise, nothing
you tell me will go beyond this room. But I have a right to know what happened.
We've been good friends and partners for long enough that I think I've earned
that much after all this time, don't you?"
Victor looked down and rested his head in his hands as he sighed heavily. The
last thing he wanted to do was talk to Mac about Jack Douglas. He had truly
planned on trying to bury the painful events that, even though they had spanned
only a couple of days and nights, they would remain with him for a lifetime.
He no intentions of ever telling either one of his partners the gory facts;
to re-tell them Mac was to relive the experience all over again.
Unfortunately, it looked like Mac was determined to drag the whole story out of
him; sordid detail by sordid detail.
Vic sighed again. Mac did have a right to know, and he had given him that
right when he had briefly thought that Mac was Jack and almost blew his head
off in reaction. Besides, Vic knew that Mac would persist until he eventually
pulled the story out of him.
There would never be a right time to tell him anyway, so it might as well
be now.
"Okay," whispered Vic after a moment. "I'll tell you."
And without looking up, Victor relayed his entire story to Mac. He started
with how he was abducted by Jack; by using drug spray. He went on to talk
about the humiliating experience he had to endure of being forced to urinate
while his captor held his cock. Victor told Mac what it felt like to be
betrayed by his own body, how he hadn't wanted to become aroused at Jack's
invading hands but had been anyway. Victor recounted what Jack had tried doing
to him after that-about how all he could think to do to stop Jack from
masturbating him was to provoke the man's anger, using the only way he could
think of; by smashing the back of his head into Jack's face, breaking his
captors nose. He talked of how Jack had then removed his belt and beat him
within an inch of his life, and how Vic had believed that having the shit
kicked out of him was better than having an orgasm brought about by a
psychopath's hand.
Victor paused to collect himself. He was choking on his admission.
Jesus Christ!
Confessing to Mac was turning out to be a whole lot harder than it had been
telling Mulder. Then again, he no longer had to deal with Mulder, while Mac he
had to see day in and day out. Vic knew that from here on in, everything would
change between him and Mac. From this moment on, every time Mac looked at him
he would see Jack Douglas and the crimes that he had committed against Vic's
body. Swallowing hard, Victor finally looked up to look at Mac, and his eyes
were full of misery, his handsome face conveying the pain that he was
experiencing by the retelling of the incident.
Knowing he wouldn't be able to continue talking while looking at Mac, Victor
hung his head again and concentrated on trying not to let his voice break.
"On my first day in the basement, when I came 'to' for the second time, I
found myself laid out spread-eagle and in four point restraints strapped down
to a steel table. Jack shot me full of heroin. He-he p-p-put a condom
between..." Victor faltered, trying to find the courage to continue. After a
few deep breaths he did. "...between my lips and a needle just below my eye."
Victor with looking up, pointed to the exact spot the syringe had been with his
finger. ìHe threatened to poke my eye out if I didn't do a g-good job."
Tears spilled over from his eyes.
Shit!
A few of the drops landed on Vic's jeans and left tiny circles of dampness.
Vic wiped the ones on his face away with the back of his hand.
Distressed, Victor exclaimed, "He-he f-fucked my mouth, Mac. GOD! He-he made
me give him a blow job! "I...he said things to me-...he intentionally said
things to me that were degrading and humiliating. And by Christ it worked, I
have never felt so..." Victor paused before going on, "He made me feel like
human garbage. Then after a little, while the drugs took over and he didn't
even need to use the needle anymore."
Vic had since ceased in wiping away the free-flowing tears and was using the
back of his hand to wipe at his nose instead. "He called me a whore, Mac. He
was the one who forcibly crammed his dick down my throat and he called ME the
whore? Jack acted like I was the one who asked for it!" Vic shouted, his anger
stark through the tears. "I was powerless to stop it!"
Finally he raised his eyes and looked directly at Mac. "He's ruined me, Mac. I
can't sleep, I can't eat and IóI can't make love. I know because I've tried
all three." Vic went on a little ruefully, "Mulder and I had sex before he
left because he wanted to try and help me to forget; he wanted to let me know
that he still loved me in spite of what happened. But I couldn't make love to
him. All I did was fuck him. Do you understand what I mean, Mac? I was
punishing myself and Jack by getting rough on Mulder. Mulder told me not to
worry about it, but I do Mac. How can I not? I'm numb inside and I don't know
if I'll ever be able to feel again." Victor hung his head and covered his face
with his hands again. "So now you know why I can't stand to be touched... why I
pulled my gun on you."
Victor raised his head; his eyes were red-rimmed but the tears had stopped.
"I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't mean to be such a hard ass, but now can you
understand why I didn't want to tell you? ...Couldn't tell you." Vic implored
hoarsely, "Will you... will you forgive me?"
Mac with one hand covering his mouth, had remainded totally silent throughout
Victor's recounting of his ordeal. Now, not only did he feel guilty for making
Victor tell the story to him, but he was furious at himself for causing so much
anguish to his partner in the first place.
No wonder he's been so tight lipped!
The torment that Jack had put Vic through and the suffering he was going
through now was almost more than Mac could bear himself. A knife had been
twisting in Mac's heart the whole time during the telling of the events, and as
he listened to Vic stammer out the details to his sad story that ultimately
would have no happy ending. His arms ached with wanting to hold Victor close
to him and keep him safe. Always. Mac's heart bled for Victor and he truly
believed that his partner needed him now more than ever before.
"God, Vic,..." Declared Mac, ...There's nothing to forgive. Trust me." Mac
stood up and walked toward Victor, stopping a few feet away from him. He
yearned so very badly to protect his partner from everything and everyone. Mac
wanted to tell him that, but instead, he simply held out his arms to his best
friend.
Victor said nothing, but after a beat, he got up and walked into Mac's
waiting arms and allowed himself to be hugged in the name of friendship.
Mac closed his arms around Victor and squeezed him in a tight embrace. He
wanted this hug to mean so much more than just plain comfort, but he knew that
comfort was all Victor was seeking, so for now Mac contented himself with
providing that for him.
Mac promised himself that he would not only help Victor see his way through
this crisis of self confidence, but that he would continue to be there for him.
And when Vic passed through this dark tunnel and into the light on the other
side, he would be there waiting for him. Mac would bide his time until Victor
came to him of his own free will for something other than comfort. There was
absolutely no doubt in Mac's mind now how he felt about Victor. He loved him.
It was as easy as that. Mac was certain that one day, Victor would come to
feel the same way about him too. He squeezed his partner even tighter and
thought of all the things he would do if anyone, should ever dare to try and
hurt Victor again.
After awhile, Vic patted Mac's back with his hands and then pushed himself
out of his friend's arms. It felt good to hug Mac; Victor felt 'safe' with his
friend by his side, he was relieved that Mac had forgiven him for his previous
transgressions.
Exhausted from lack of sleep and the emotional drain of the last couple of
hours, Vic cleared his throat and said, "Umm, Mac do you mind if we call it a
night? I'm beat, I think I'll take a shower and hit the sack. I've got some
reading I should do." Victor shrugged his shoulders casually. "Who knows,
maybe I'll actually get some sleep tonight.
"Yeah, sure." Mac looked Victor over. "You're sure you're okay now?" He
asked doubtfully. ìAnd you and me? We're all right each other?" Mac was
concerned for Victor, he really didn't want to leave his partner alone to face
the nightmares, but if Vic wanted him to go there was nothing he could do about
it.
"I'm okay now. Really." Victor assured him. "Why don't we meet at the corner
coffee shop for breakfast? We'll come up with a plan together then. I can't
think right now." When he saw the dubious expression on Mac's face, Vic added
hastily, "Don't worry. I'll be okay. If I can't sleep, I'll phone you, I
promise. Okay?"
"All right, I'll go home and run through the stuff Nathan gave us, then I'll
destroy it. Meet you at..." Mac looked at his watch. "...7:30 tomorrow morning
then?"
"Seven thirty it is. Good night, Mac." Victor walked Mac to the door.
Before he left, Mac turned around to face Victor. Reaching up with his right
hand, Mac grasped the back of Vic's head and neck as he stated encouragingly,
"Don't worry Vic, we'll get the Director's home movies back. You'll see." He
smiled reassuringly at Victor; Mac honestly believed his own words. He was
determined to get those tapes back for Vic, come hell or high water.
Victor gave Mac a small half-smile in return and answered simply, "I know."
After Mac turned away to leave, Victor closed and locked the door behind him.
He turned off all the lights before walking toward the bathroom, all the while
wondering how he was going to keep the nightmares at bay for another night.
Part Fifteen
Despite the fact that his surroundings are completely foreign to him,
actually, he doesn't even know what kind of building he is in; only that he is
indoors. Mac turns toward a darkened corridor that has suddenly become visible
to him and begins to run in the direction of the soulful cries. The agent is
consumed by a single-minded goal; he needs find Victor and free him. And based
on the sound of Vic's pitiful voice, Mac has no doubt that his partner is
suffering from some kind of torture. It's no matter to him that he does not
know where Vic is, all he cares about is that his partner is in danger and he
has to save him.
At the end of the long dark hall, Mac sees a lone door, painted red. And
immediately he realizes that it is from behind the red door, which Victor's
screams are coming from. Mac runs faster, but no matter how swift he goes, he
is unable to make any headway in getting closer to the door. It feels as if he
is just running in place on a treadmill. He starts to grow tired, and a fine
layer of sweat has broken out on his forehead, as well as between his shoulder
blades. But Mac continues to press on. He hears Vic's pleas for help, now
muffled, he increases his speed even more with renewed determination.
Eventually the physically fit agent grows just too tired to keep going on,
and just when Mac is about to give in to his exhaustion, he finds himself
directly in front of the red door. Reaching out with his hand he tests the
brass knob even though he has a feeling that it will be locked. Mac is proven
correct when the knob will not budge under his grasp.
Suddenly, on the other side of the door, Vic's screams stop all together.
Unnerved by the eerie silence, Mac draws his leg back and putting all his
weight into it, gives the door one hard kick. The wooden structure is no match
for his strength and it gives way easily, the frame becomes splinters of dark
wood that fly every which way.
Mac immediately draws his weapon before crossing the threshold. In a small
room beyond, he sees a single dirty mattress that has no sheets on it, it is
resting on a simple wooden bed frame. And on the filthy mattress is Victor.
Jack is on the bed too, he is straddling Victor's nude body at his waist.
Mac can see bruises marring Victor's pale face, clearly showing the beating he
has taken at Jack's hands. In addition, Victor's eyes are closed and his body
is unmoving. Since he is mostly hidden by Jack, Mac cannot even tell if Victor
is still breathing.
Jack turns around and looks casually over his shoulder at Mac, seemingly
unconcerned over the fact that someone has just walked in on him. Unsure if
Victor is dead or merely unconscious, and very afraid that it is the former
rather than the latter, Mac's hands waver slightly in nervousness. However, he
still manages to spit out in a cool and controlled voice, "Get your filthy
hands off of my friend or else, you bastard."
Mac tightens his grip on his gun and aims it deftly for the spot right
between his enemy's ice-blue eyes. He is confident that if Jack doesn't comply
with his wishes, then he will kill the man without even blinking an eye. And
not lose a nights sleep over it either.
"Or else what...Mac?" Jack says to the agent, tauntingly.
"How do you know my name?" Asks Mac, momentarily confused.
"I know your name-you pathetic excuse for a partner-because I beat it out of
Victor here." For emphasis, Jack grabs a handful of Victor's short hair and
gives the unconscious man's head a few hard jerks.
Mac winces as he sees Victor's neck snap back and forth lifelessly like a rag
dolls, but he remains silent and continues to glare at Jack, trying not to let
his resolve to kill Jack at all costs waver.
"You see Mac, Victor's life is in my hands and my hands alone, and there
isn't a damn thing you can do about it," Jack intones cryptically. "His sanity
rests solely with me. Even though I'm dead, I can still choose to haunt him in
his dreams whenever I like. I can drive him insane if I want to. I can drive
you crazy too for that matter. Your words cannot comfort him, they're useless.
You have only yourself to blame for failing him, you know. You were too
late in saving him from me. It was you who left him alone and unable to defend
for himself. It's your fault...partner... he's so screwed up now. He'll
never be able to forget the memories of our time together. He's mine Mac. Mine
and mine alone. Forever and ever. Victor Mansfield will always belong to me,
mind, body and soul." Jack laughs haughtily.
Mac watches in horror as Jack turns toward Victor whose eyes are now open
but unseeing, and brutally bites into his right cheek; defying Mac and his gun.
"NO!" Mac screams and without calling out a warning to Jack, he pulls the
trigger over and over again. Riddling the psychopaths back with bloody bullet
holes. Jack falls over and Mac slowly lowers his gun, proclaiming to the dead
body calmly, "He's mine"...
Mac's bedroom.
Mac bolted upright in his bed, panting and sweating. He couldn't believe how
vivid his nightmare had been. It seemed so real; he could still feel the
warmth of the automatic's steel in his hand and the lingering odor of blood and
gunpowder in the air.
Sighing heavily Mac reached over and turned on the small lamp that sat on his
bedside table. He glanced at his alarm clock and grimaced at the time. It was
only five in the morning. Mac pushed back the covers and swung his legs over
the edge of the bed.
I'm up now
Knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep after that dream, he
decided to just get up completely and go over the break-in plans one more time.
As he got out of bed and headed for his bathroom, Mac tried to make sense of
what 'Jack' had told him. He wondered why Jack had mentioned in the dream that
he would drive him insane along with Victor. Mac knew enough pop psychology
to understand that he was most likely projecting how he really felt about not
being able to help Victor with his situation with Jack; the dead psychotic.
He had to admit though, that ever since Victor told him about what happened,
he could think of nothing else. In fact, he had been downright obsessive about
the whole thing, mulling over the sad and gory details again and again.
Mac had gone to bed the night before with visions of Victor being strapped
down and assaulted. And he had fallen asleep to a fantasy about how he alone
had been the one to find Victor, fantasizing that he had been the hero who
kicked in the secret door and shot Jack in cold blood. Stopping the brutal
man in mid-motion as he beat his defenseless friend with the belt. He had
imagined then, that when he ran to Victor to gallantly free him of his
restraints, that his partner willingly wrapped his shaky arms around Mac in
sheer gratitude, kissing him deeply. Expressing his relief at finally being
saved.
Mac shook his head to clear it. He guessed that if he did continue to obsess
over Victor's story, he really could end up driving himself nuts.
As he stepped into the hot spray of his shower, Mac had no doubt that his
nightmare was the cumulative result of listening to Vic's story earlier and his
personal reactions to the whole sordid account. He turned up the temperature of
the water, trying to scald the after effects of the bad dream away.
"Quit resisting me, you cheap whore, and take your clothes off."
Hisses Jack contemptuously.
Victor, on his knees in the corner of a cell, is cowering away from Jack's
proximity; his back against the hard cement wall. He can feel moisture
trickling from his nose, and when he sticks the tip of his tongue to his upper
lip, Victor can taste his own blood in his mouth. The room that they are in is
completely black except for two bright bluish-white spotlights that are shining
down from somewhere above. One spot is on him and the other is on Jack,
illuminating just the two them and nothing else.
Jack starts walking toward Victor and the spotlight moves along with him.
Victor is both tired and hungry. He's had enough of Jack and his games and
although he his humiliated in begging Jack to stop hurting him, he does so
anyway.
In a small voice he pleads, "N-n-no. Please. I can't. I just can't." Victor
knows that he should try to make a run for it, but he is frozen in place by
fear of what is to come next. Jack is now looming directly over him with a
needle; a needle Victor knows, is full of poison. It is that particular poison
in which he never wants to feel pulsing through his system ever again.
Although he is afraid to stand up and do as he is told, Victor is more afraid
of what will happen if he does not obey. After a few seconds more of
hesitation, he stands up on trembling legs. He wipes away the sweat that has
formed on his brow while looking left and right surreptitiously for an escape
route that will take him away from this nightmare. Realizing that there isn't
one, Victor reluctantly pulls his T-shirt over his head, his hands shaking.
He turns his head away and looks into the darkness as he undresses,
embarrassed by Jack's wolfish stare. Victor knows he can't spare himself the
shame of undressing in front of this sexual predator, who is his jailer. But
Victor thinks that he can at least evade Jack's direct gaze by turning his head
away.
Unfortunately for him, Jack knows what he is up to. "Look at me when you do
that!" He commands. " I want to see my reflection in your pretty green eyes."
He takes another step closer to Victor and is menacingly waving the needle full
of the potent drugs in front of Victor's face.
Victor tries retreating backwards, away from the drugs. But the cement
wall that is behind his bareback prevents him from doing so. Victor silently
wishes that his body would just melt into the cement. But it is to no avail,
secret wishing cannot help him now. Knowing that it was the way he looked that
had made Jack want to abduct him in the first place; Victor can't help damning
his parents for cursing him with dark green eyes instead of a pair of generic
brown ones.
The agent stares straight ahead at the command and concentrates on looking
through Jack and not at him. With his vision slightly blurred by his watering
eyes, Victor moves his cold hands to his belt and undoes the small metal
buckle. Then, with a quick flick of his fingertips, the top button of his
slightly worn blue jeans is easily undone. Victor tries to delay the
inevitable a few seconds longer by pulling his zipper down slowly, one tooth at
a time.
When his pants are completely undone, he becomes aware of Jack's reaction to
it; the other man is running his tongue over his lips in an explicit display of
arousal.
Victor hesitates while pulling down his jeans, and wonders briefly if any
good would come out of asking Jack to shoot him full of drugs now. It would be
nice to have them sink into his system now, so that they can knock him out
before Jack begins his assault. He doesn't want to be conscious to feel what
Jack will be doing to him nor does he want to hear the biting insults he knows,
Jack will be flinging at him in order to shame him.
As he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, Victor also wonders
if today will be the day that Jack will bend him over and actually rape him. He
wouldn't be surprised if it were, since Jack has already done just about
everything else to him. But before Victor can pull his jeans down all the way,
Jack suddenly moves in even closer and with one hand grabs the agent by the
throat, squeezing tight enough to partially cut off his air supply.
Panicked, Victor's hands automatically shoot up to grab Jack's thick
wrist, trying to deter him. But the protective gesture is in vain. The odds
were against Victor from the beginning of his captivity; he body has been
weakened by hunger and lack of sleep whereas Jack is obviously rested and well
fed.
Eventually, realizing the futility of fighting, Victor drops his arms back
down to his sides in surrender. His little act of defiancé angers Jack even
more, so he slams Victor's head against the grey wall in retaliation. The force
of the blow is hard enough to make Victor see star bursts explode before his
eyes.
With his steel cold eyes locked onto Victor's slightly unfocussed eyes, Jack
leans his face in close and says, "Your mine Vic-tor. I own your spirit; now
and forever. You will always remember me and what we did together."
Jack laughs cruelly at his own words and then gives Victor a brutal kiss;
it's a lip-crushing kiss that is sure to leave Victor's mouth bruised. He bites
into Victor's soft, full, bottom lip hard enough to open up the tender flesh
and draw blood.
When Jack finally pulls his head back, Victor can tell that he is turned on
even more by the wound that he has made on his lip. Victor can also feel
Jack's erection rubbing up against his abdomen. The psychotic man still has
the bottom half of his body pinned against the wall with his own. Victor
wonders if it is the sight of his deep, red blood that has made Jack hard or is
it just because Jack is hurting and humiliating him again that has caused his
arousal.
Feeling nauseous, Victor swallows hard and inhales sharply through his nose,
in an attempt to keep his gorge down. But since Jack's hand is still
restricting Victor's air passage, his breath ends in a heavy gasp instead. He
begins attempting to suck in large mouthfuls of oxygen, but he succeeds in only
taking in a minimum amount of the air that his body requires. Victor's head
begins to swim, and before long he begins to see planets in addition to the
stars before his eyes. He can feel his consciousness slowly ebbing away.
Afraid of what will happen to him if that actually happens, Victor attempts
to reach deep within himself to find a small bit of courage to fight back with,
but it is too late. He can already feel Jack plunging the sharp needle into his
biceps, its potent contents burning as they pass into his body and enter his
blood stream.
Victor winces at the discomfort caused by the needle, and Jack leans in one
more time to suck on his bloody bottom lip. Victor's knees begin to buckle from
the effects of the drugs and he slowly starts to slide down the cement wall.
He can barely register the fact that the cement wall is tearing the fresh
scabs off of his damaged back; the pain it causes comes to him as only a dull
throbbing ache.
The last words he hears before passing out completely is Jack telling him
that he is going to wish he was dead by the time he's done with him. Victor's
eyes flutter close and as his forehead makes contact with the cement ground in
front of him, he wishes that he were dead too...
5:00 am
Victor, still unsettled by the disturbing nightmare he had experienced in the
middle of the night was sitting on a wooden chair and starring out of the
sliding glass doors that led to his balcony.
That nightmare, like all the others that he had experienced, was very
intense. He had felt everything so clearly: from the coldness of the wall upon
his back to the warmth of the open wounds, to the blood running down his spine.
It had all seemed so real.
When he was finally released from the scary depths of the bad dream, Victor
had gone straight to his bathroom and looked into the mirror. To his dismay, he
saw that at some point during his restless sleep, he had actually managed to
tear the scabs off of the two deepest welts that ran across his right shoulder
blade.
Both sores were bleeding freely. He'd managed to clean the wounds and
bandage them up, doing the best that he could to staunch the flow of blood
before leaving his bathroom to return to his bedroom. Despite only managing to
get just over three hours of sleep, he did not even attempt to go back to his
bed after seeing the blood in his sheets.
Instead, he padded to the dining room and grabbed a chair, placing it before
his balcony doors. He pulled open the blinds and seated himself so that he
could watch the deep Cimmerian night slowly begin to lighten to a dark blue,
signally the onset of dawn.
In an effort to try not to think about the event that had made his sleep
restless and laden with images he just as soon forget, Victor concentrated on
going over the information Nathan had given him the day before again and again.
He was trying to memorize every word, every detail. He wanted to go to the
Agency prepared, he knew if he and Mac failed at their endeavor then it would
be over for both of them. Victor wanted to be primed and ready, if only for
Mac's sake. He was apathetic when it came to his personal safety, making sure
the mission went smoothly would ensure Mac's safety. He did not want to let
his partner down. Their task was really no different from the other ones
they've had before; Victor had every intention of fulfilling his end of the
mission to a letter.
Mac would need muscle to back him up and he would definitely be there to
watch his back, making sure no one would come along and stumble upon them,
catching them unaware.
As Victor continued running through his mind all possible scenarios that
could occur, the sky began to lose its dimness, making way for an early morning
sunshine that broke over the surrounding buildings and shone directly into
Victor's face.
Made it through another night with most of my sanity intact.
Victor looked at his watch. It was six o'clock in the morning already, he
decided that he might as well get started on the day. Rising from his seat, he
winced at the pins and needles he felt in his bum from remaining seated for so
long. He started for his bathroom, intending on taking a shower, but instead he
ended up veering for his laptop computer that was sitting in the corner.
He had been thinking of Mulder off and on for several days now. He wanted to
know if Mulder had been thinking of him as well, so giving into his curiosity
he opened up his portable computer and after plugging in his modem, logged onto
his server. Victor opened his e-mail program to check his mail. He was
surprised to see that he did in fact have one piece of mail waiting to be read.
When he called up the mail, Victor was greeted with a sound wav window. He
pushed the play button and immediately, Pink Floyd began singing a verse from
their song, "Wish You Were Here":
How I wish
Victor sighed melancholically, then he read the short note on the screen:
V. Heard this song and thought it was appropriate, considering how things
turned out for us. I wish it could have been different spy guy.. To find the
one person that suited me so well, only to lose him because we are
geographically incompatible...hurts. But who knows, Vic, maybe one day we will
both become disillusioned with our respective occupations and give them up.
Until then, I can only think of you and what we had. Victor, you took a
lifetime of pain and made it disappear for me; even if it was only for a couple
of hours. It's really no small feat considering the details of my life which I
never got around telling you about; after all, I didn't want to scare you off
too soon. We will meet again Victor. I promise. And when we do, it will be for
good that I know. Take care of yourself, Vic. Please do that for me. Tell Mac
I said to watch your back...or I'll kick his ass. Yours in mind and soul even
if not body, M.
Victor typed a similar letter in response to his former lover and then logged
off and snapped his laptop shut. He stood, stretched and headed for the
bathroom, glad that he had decided to check his mail. Mulder's letter had, in
an odd sort of way, cheered him up considerably. At least he now knew that
Mulder wanted to keep in contact with him, even if it was only by e-mail.
Victor turned on the water and stepped into the spray, his thoughts still on
Fox Mulder. As he lathered himself up, Victor began to imagine that it was Fox
who was lathering him up, just like he had done before in this very shower just
a few short weeks ago. Victor began to slowly run his fingertips up and down
his torso—from the bottom of his aching balls and erect, throbbing cock to
his sensitive nipples. He closed his eyes and fantasized that they weren't
his own hands touching his body but rather Mulder's...
Mulder was pinching Vic's nipples, alternating between squeezing the
two brown nubs between his index finger and thumb and running his forefingers
over the sensitized flesh he had captured between them. Victor's breathing
became faster and heavier. After awhile, he felt Mulder releasing his nipples
and then saw him sinking to his knees to engulf his engorged, leaking cock.
Victor sighed loudly and twined his fingers around Mulder's wet hair. Victor
began pushing the back of Mulder's head with his hands, encouraging his lover
to increase his rhythm. Mulder obeyed accordingly and before long, Victor was
sucked, nibbled and licked to an orgasm. Mulder deftly swallowed all the jism
that Vic's intense orgasm produced, his hazel eyes staring up into Victor's all
the while, as he continued to deep-throat him and swallow his cum...
Victor released his cock. He felt sated and was more than a little pleased to
find out that at least Jack didn't invade his conscious thoughts or fantasies
against his will.
He felt a little lazy from orgasming so hard so Victor turned off the hot
water and finished his shower with a skin numbing cold blast to wake himself up
completely. Once done, he quickly stepped out into the steamy room and toweled
himself dry. Victor rubbed away a spot in his fogged over mirror to look at
himself. He noted in disgust that the circles under his eyes were even darker
this morning than yesterday morning. Frowning at his own reflection, but
knowing he could do nothing about the circles now, he simply shrugged and
reached for his shaving gel.
The Coffee Shop
7:45 am
7:45. Vic's late.
Mac noted as he looked at the numbers on his digital watch. Every time the
door to the small cafe opened, Mac would look up from his paper anxiously. When
the small bell over the door jingled for about the twentieth time, suggesting
that yet another patron had entered, Mac once again looked up and smiled at the
sight of Victor who was looking around the restaurant, apparently searching for
him.
When Victor spotted Mac, he gave his partner a bright smile and with a nod of
his head started to walk over to the table. Mac watched Victor as he moved
toward their table. Even though he was still a small distance away, Mac could
see the dark circles under his partner's eyes, which stood out stark and
menacing against the soft pallor of his skin. Obviously, Victor had not had a
good night's sleep again. Mac was a little disappointed that despite his
promise, Victor had not in fact called him up as he had promised to do if he
were to suffer through another bout of insomnia.
When Victor finally reached their table and slid into his seat, Doreen the
waitress, whom Mac had a hard time flagging down earlier, was immediately at
the table with a fresh pot of coffee almost. She poured a cup of the dark brew
for Victor before turning to Mac and asking with a fake smile, "More for ya,
son?"
"Yes, please. Thanks, Doreen." Mac smiled back, his sincerity just as
feigned.
Doreen poured Mac's coffee, ignoring the fact that she slopped liquid over
the rim in the process. She turned to Vic and beamed. "What'll it be,
handsome?" Mac saw that the smile she had for Victor was genuine.
Mac groaned audibly.
obviously he eats here all the time.
Victor flicked his eyes over at Mac. He thought for a second before
replying, "Eggs over easy, bacon and sourdough toast. Hash browns-extra crispy
please."
Doreen flashed her teeth at Victor then began to walk away.
Mac stared after her in astonishment; he could not believe that she had
totally disregarded him. Trying to get his first cup of coffee out of her had
been like trying to extract impacted wisdom teeth and now she just completely
'disses him after taking Vic's order. Victor, who had arrived later than he
did!
The old bitch!
Mac decided right then and there that next time, they would meet in one of
his regular haunts; he hated being treated like he was the invisible man.
Doreen probably has the hots for Vic. Figures.
Mac hmmphed quietly. Noticing the expression on Mac's face, Vic chuckled and
called out to the waitress on his behalf.
"Uhh, Doreen, honey?" Victor called flirtatiously. Doreen turned around at
the sound of his voice immediately.
"Yes, Sweetie?"
"My friend would like to order too." Victor smiled up at her and showed her
his even white teeth.
Disgruntled, Mac grimaced and gave Vic a I-just-bet-you're-loving-this-look
before saying to Doreen, "I'll have the same as him." He figured that would
probably be the only way to ensure that his order would get to their table
while it was still warm.
Doreen nodded in acknowledgment and as she walked away, Victor laughed
heartily.
"Do you know...," Mac began, "...that until you came I had to nurse my first
cup of coffee because I was afraid she would never come back?" Mac grinned at
Victor. "Don't ever bring me here to eat again. What a dump!"
"You're such a snob Mac." Retorted Victor, cheerily. "Besides, the food's
worth the abuse, trust me. The waitress may be terrible, but the cook is
awesome. You'll never eat a more perfectly done egg in your life, and the hash
browns are to die for." Victor put his fingertips to his lips and then made a
kissing sound as he pulled them away.
Mac laughed, glad that Victor appeared to be in such good spirits this
morning. "How are you doing? Did you sleep well last night?" He asked, his
mood suddenly changing from slightly pissed off to worried.
Victor deflected Mac's comments with a wave of his hand, not wishing to dwell
on the subject of his lack of sleep last night. To linger on it meant he would
have to think of Jack; something he definitely did not want to do today if he
could help it. His thoughts were already full of Fox Mulder and ways to
break-in to the Agency. "I'm fine, don't worry. What kind of a plan did you
come up with?" Vic asked, changing the subject quickly.
Mac searched Vic's eyes for a second before pulling out some graph paper on
which he had drawn a small map of the director's office, the hallways leading
to the office, and the surrounding air shafts. He highlighted the air shaft
that they would use to sneak in. Mac flattened the papers on the table and
began to recite his plan. "Okay, here's where we'll enter from the
outside..."
Part Seventeen: Walk softly and carry a big stick
The coffee shop
When the agents had finished going over the plans for their break-in, Mac
refolded the incriminating papers carefully and shoved them back into his pants
pocket. He looked across the table at his partner and noticed that even though
Victor had ordered a large breakfast, he had barely touched his food. In fact,
he had not even taken a bite from his eggs at all. Only the toast was gone;
Victor had downed it with three cups of strong coffee. Mac wondered if Victor's
lack of appetite was due to the previous night. Victor still hadn't explained
the dark circles and when Mac asked him about them again, all Victor did was
change the subject instead of answering.
Uninterested in his food, Vic pushed his full plate aside. He motioned to,
and she immediately came over with a full, fresh pot of coffee to fill his cup
for the fourth time that morning. As he accepted another cupful, Vic kept his
good-standing in the restaurant by flirting overtly with the slightly heavy and
overly made-up woman.
Mac grimaced at the sight of the love-struck waitress who hung onto
everything Victor said to her.
She is waay out of her league. I can't believe she would seriously think Vic
would be even remotely interested. She's not even the right sex for him!
Mac thought. Nevertheless, it still bothered him that Vic would flirt
with her so freely, even though he knew his partner wasn't the least bit
interested. Mac hid the small pang of jealousy he felt behind his own coffee
cup. He drained the last of the coffee and banged the cup down on the table top
in frustration over every single thing in his life that he could not control;
Victor's affections and where they lay being one of those things.
The cup hit the Formica tabletop harder than Mac had intended, startling
both Victor and Doreen. Doreen jumped slightly at the unexpected noise while
Victor automatically reached inside his jacket with his right hand for his gun.
Once his brain realized that it was only Mac who'd made the noise, Vic
immediately pulled his hand back out a little and covered the move by
pretending to scratch his left shoulder instead. He chuckled lightly when he
saw that Mac was staring at him with a slight grin; Mac knew exactly what Vic
had been about to do. He would have done the same thing had it been the other
way around.
"Check, please," Mac said to Doreen in an overtly sincere voice, even
though he continued to scowl at her.
Doreen gave Mac a look that translated to You're an asshole before
turning her gaze back to Victor and smiling brightly. "Sure thing... Vic." She
glanced down as she reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a bill. She
looked it over quickly, making sure she had the right one, and placed it face
down on the table in front of Victor. Turning, Doreen sashayed away without so
much as a backwards glance toward Mac.
Mac pointed his finger and raised his eyebrows at the retreating back of
the waitress, laughing as he announced to Vic, "That woman is not going to get
a tip out of my pocket."
Taking his eyes off of the annoying waitress, Mac smiled at Victor and
joked, "A little jumpy are we, Vic? For a second there, I was afraid you'd
shoot me."
Mac leaned back in his chair, making no motion to go for the check. He
crossed his arms across his chest and watched Victor's clear green eyes opened
up wide as he responded with, "Maybe I should have. Honestly Mac, the food is
good here. I don't want to get a bad reputation for being a difficult
customer just because I had you with me. And I suppose you expect me to pick up
the tab?" Victor smiled while pointing at the check; he blushed slightly when
he noticed the large heart drawn around the words "Thank-you, come again" which
was written in Doreen's large loopy hand writing.
"Damn straight. First of all, I think the check was meant for you in the
first place." Mac pointed to the large heart with the writing in it. Then he
said, "And second, I aint paying for being abused verbally and... and... and
lookingly by an uneducated, lovesick food server for the last two hours. And
if the food's so good, how come you didn't eat any of it?" Mac leaned forward
and looked directly into Victor's eyes seriously, waiting for Vic's answer.
"Too much coffee, I guess, it filled me up." Victor lied. He dropped the
subject, by standing up and grabbing the check as he did so. He reached into
the tight front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a few bills and a couple of
coins. He dropped a couple of two dollar coins onto the table top and then
headed for the cash register.
Mac stood as well and followed. After paying the bill, they left the
restaurant in companionable silence.
Victor broke the quiet by asking Mac, "Oh, by the way, how can someone abuse
you 'lookingly'? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Victor stopped at
his truck which was parked next to Mac's BMW and unlocked the driver's side
door.
"Lookingly... you know..." Mac gestured with one hand like Victor should
automatically understand what he meant by the word, "...lookingly. Like, she
gave me dirty looks and said nasty things to me the whole time we were there,
therefore, she abused me verbally and lookingly. What else would you call
it?"
Victor smiled and shook his head, he unlocked the door to his truck then
turned to face Mac who winked at him before putting on his sunglasses. "Follow
me home and we'll pull the equipment out and check it over." Mac opened his own
car door and hopped in. He revved up his engine and the pulled out of the
parking lot to make his way home.
As he watched the other man pull out, Victor was pleased that Mac had
managed to lighten his dark mood so easily. Climbing into his truck, he pulled
out into traffic and followed his partner.
Mac's storage cubicle.
Victor sneezed loudly, mumbling ìThank-youî to Mac's automatic bless
you.
He could see the dust motes, which had been disturbed by his and Mac's
presence in the storage room, floating lazily through the air. When he sneezed
again, the irony of the situation struck him, after all his sneezing was how
this whole thing had gotten started.
It was because of his apparent allergy and his use of an
evidence-tainted handkerchief in the first place that had brought about a chain
of events resulting in his being in this whole big muddled mess now. If he
hadn't sneezed into the handkerchief which had the saliva of the suspect of the
case he and his two partners had been working on, the mad bomber case, the
Director wouldn't have decided to 'punish' him by introducing him to Mulder.
Somehow she knew that he would become attracted to him and by that giving her
the chance to secretly videotape him and Mulder together.
Victor made a low sound of disgust as he was reminded that he and his two
partners had been pulled off of an active case while they were in the middle of
it just because of his mishap. He guessed the Director had probably given the
assignment to that other team-the one that had three members who resembled
Vic's own team.
They probably solved the case easily too.
After sneezing yet again, Victor pushed his negative thoughts aside and
concentrated on the here and now instead. He sighed again, softly this time,
and rubbed at his watery eyes. Being in the storage basement of Mac's apartment
building was making him nervous.
Even though he was with Mac, Victor couldn't help being dismayed by the
sight of the plain grey cement walls: their similarity to his previous place of
captivity haunted him. "You almost done?" Vic asked
irritably while he pushed the heals of his hands against his eyes, trying to
alleviate the persistent itch in them.
Mac, who was busy going through his 'stash', stopped what he was doing to
glance back over his shoulder at his partner. The sneezing, watery-eyed man
seemed fidgety. Mac looked around briefly before he realized the reasons for
Victor's discomfort; he straightened up before saying, "Yeah, that oughtta do
it." Mac stuffed a nightstick into the duffel bag Vic was holding for him which
was already full of other various gadgets Mac thought they might need for their
little break-in. He figured that if he had left anything out he could just
come back down for it later. He reminded himself that they would need to sort
out all their equipment and make sure it was all in good working condition
before they left for the agency.
Mac had told no one what he kept in his storage cell, even LiAnne was in
the dark. Now of course Victor knew but he trusted that Victor would keep its
contents to himself. Mac had slowly been collecting various items over the
years and squirreling them way because one never knew when one would need such
things. Michael Tang had taught him that it was always better to be prepared,
for anything and everything.
Victor was relieved when they finally left the basement and were back into
the brightness of Mac's apartment. Once inside, he dropped the duffel bag on
the rug and began pulling the assorted items out and setting them aside to
examine them.
Mac pushed the coffee table away and joined Victor on the floor. He picked
up the electronic box that he used to aid him in cracking safes and turned it
on, scrutinizing it for any malfunctions. Vic left the complicated equipment to
Mac and opted for checking the more simple but just as important gear instead.
He reached over and picked up a rope that was attached to two pulleys to check
it over. Each man was intent on their task. Silent and determined in their
work the afternoon passed quickly for the two partners.
The last slot turned and tumbled into place, a small click heard only
through the stethoscope Mac was using, saying to the agent that the safe was
now unlocked. Smiling through the darkness at the tall shadow that was Victor,
he whispered very softly into the small microphone that dangled in front of his
mouth, "Houston, we have lift off."
Mac gently eased the safe door open. Using a slim finger-sized flashlight,
he swept the interior of the safe. Moving aside two large boxes of Cuban
cigars, he resisted the urge to steal one or two of the large cylinders. Behind
those, he found that which he and Victor were seeking. Mac picked up the two
plain black plastic videotape covers and opening one up, read the label stuck
to the videotape inside. "Vic" was all it said. Mac checked the inside of the
second tape and saw that it said 'Vic II'. He removed both tapes and hid them
securely inside one of the deep pockets within his black utility vest. Mac
closed the empty cases tight and then very carefully put back everything to the
way that he had found it; he had no doubt that the Director would eventually
find out what they did, but he figured if he returned things to their original
place correctly then she wouldn't find out later, rather sooner.
Mac whispered into the mike to Victor. "Got 'em.î There was no need to say
anything else: Victor's audible sigh relayed back to him that he knew exactly
what Mac meant. "I'm coming back. Pull me in." Mac added.
On Mac's okay, Victor picked up the rope that Mac was dangling from and
pulled in the slack, aiding his partner in his return. When Mac reached the
top, Victor helped him unbuckle the harness to release him from the complicated
ropes. He then bound up the ropes quickly and stuffed it into a black knapsack
with the rest of the gear. He flung the bag around and settled it against his
back efficiently.
"Ready?" he asked Mac, who was busy looking around, making sure that they
had not given away their presence. Mac nodded his head. "All right then, let's
get the hell out of here!" Vic whispered emphatically. Mac took the 'point' and
lead the way out of the Director's office, with Victor watching their backs
from behind all the way out. The two men, silent as the mist, made their way,
swiftly out of the Agency.
Once back outside, both of them let out their breaths in a whoosh, relieved
that they had just successfully broken into the Director's office and got out
in one piece. Victor reminded himself to buy Nathan a case of beer, impressed
that the man's information was bang on the money.
Mac fell into step beside Vic as they walked the four blocks back to
Victor's truck. Victor had parked far away from the Agency as a measure of
insurance. He didn't want anyone from work to recognize his truck, thereby
linking him to this treasonous act of larceny. He also knew that the Director
would be sure discover their little crime eventually. It was only a matter of
when. Like Mac, he was just trying to preserve their ruse as long possible.
As they were walking down a dark alley Mac flung his arm around Victor's
shoulders and hugged him. "Yeah! We did it!!" he gushed in sheer jubilation at
what was, in his opinion, the ultimate heist of all time.
Victor laughed at Mac's enthusiasm, but before he could answer his partner
the sound of another male voice that spoke to them from the darkened shadows,
made them freeze. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here, Dave. Two
'lovers' out for a midnight stroll." The man spit the word 'lovers' out.
As he spoke a man stepped out of the darkness and into the dim moonlight.
The stranger was casually slapping a blackjack against his left hand. Another
man, presumably 'Dave', stepped from the blackness on the other side of Victor.
He had a black jack as well. Instinctively, Mac and Victor arranged themselves
so that they were back to back; each of them keeping their eyes on the man that
was closest to him.
Victor raised his hands palms up and stated coolly to the menacing man in
front of him, "Listen, you've got us mistaken for a couple of easy marks. I
promise that's not the case. Now put down those sticks before my friend and me
get really get mad and kick the shit out of you two." To emphasize his point,
Vic flashed a nasty, feral-like smile at 'Dave'.
"Yeah," Mac concurred. He took on an exaggerated southern twang in his voice
and drawled out, "We'll wring the red right off of yer skinny necks fer ya
all."
Victor laughed at Mac's jibe. 'Dave' and his friend, however, did not see
the humor in the witty insult.
Without warning 'Dave' swung the small club in his right hand and as
Victor feinted to his left in an attempt to stop the swing, Dave struck out
with his left fist instead and caught Victor in the side of his face with a
hard jab, causing Victor's nose and mouth to spurt blood. Victor fell to his
knees, temporarily stunned.
Mac turned his gaze toward Victor for only a split second in reaction, but
it was time enough for the other thug to make his move. Seeing his chance, the
guy swung his black jack at Mac, catching the agent unaware. The blow caught
him at the base of the skull, knocking him down and out momentarily.
Victor screamed, "Mac!" As his body became overwhelmed by adrenalin, they
took over and shifted him into an aggressive autopilot mode. Victor jumped up
from his kneeling position and kicked his assailant hard enough in the kneecap
that he actually heard it give way and make a sickening snapping sound. 'Dave'
fell to the ground writhing in pain and clutching at his shattered knee.
Vic bent over and in one swift motion, picked up the wriggling man's club
while simultaneously pulling his gun. Cocking it, Victor spun around and
yelled, "FREEZE!" at the partner, who had his
weapon raised and was about to strike the prone and unconscious Mac again. The
man had already kicked Mac a few times in the stomach, ribs and face; Victor
could see Mac's bright red blood trickling out of his nostrils.
The man froze instantly at the sight of Victor's gun. He dropped the club
and it clattered as it hit the ground. The unnamed man put his hands up in the
air and rested them on his head in the usual position taken by a 'perp' once
they have been caught.
"Take it easy man, no need to get all worked up," he said nervously as his
eyes darted from Mac to Victor to 'Dave', whom Victor was keeping pinned to the
ground by pushing on the man's damaged kneecap with one booted foot.
Victor was not pushing hard enough to truly hurt the man but just enough
to let him know he had better stay put. Not that the injured man would be able
to rise on his own anytime soon anyway with his kneecap crushed. Victor
pressed down on Dave's knee once more, making the man cry out in agony, before
backing away slowly. One tiny bead of sweat made its way down his temple. Even
though he was wired, Victor's face betrayed no emotion whatsoever. He held his
hands rock steady on his gun and his voice did not waver from the icy tone as
he commanded Mac's attacker to, "Collect your shithead friend and get the fuck
out of here before I change my mind and shoot both of you."
The other man scuttled over to his hurt friend and helped him to his feet.
As he dragged his friend away, the man looked back every few yards to make sure
that Vic had not changed his mind and decided to shoot them after all.
Victor waited until the men were completely out of the alley and out of
his sight before he re-holstered his gun and ran to his downed friend.
"Mac! Mac!" Victor shouted as he not so gently slapped the limp man's
bruised face in an attempt to revive his partner. Victor felt relief wash
through him when he saw Mac's eyelids flutter and then open up wide.
"I love you," Mac stated woozily as he blinked his unfocused eyes up into
Victor's concerned face.
Victor stared dumbfounded at his partner for a second before dismissing
Mac's words as nonsense. He guessed that Mac had probably been hit hard enough
in the head to cause a concussion and he knew that people who had been bashed
about in such a way usually didn't say the most sensible things. He chose to
ignore Mac's confession of love.
The lights blinked out on Mac again and he went limp in Vic's arms.
Alarmed that the guy with the blackjack had done some serious damage, Vic
reluctantly lay his partner down gently on the cold asphalt. He removed the
that he had been wearing knapsack and then his own coat. Bundling up the
leather into a neat package, he placed his coat underneath Mac's still head.
Victor rummaged through the knapsack for his phone and using his teeth, he
pulled the antenna out on the cell. Just as he was about to dial 911, out of
the corner of his eye he saw Mac wake up and rise shakily to his hands and
knees.
Before Victor could even dial the number; his partner started vomiting—all over Vic's favorite jacket.
Victor dropped the phone to the pavement and knelt next to Mac. He reached
out one big, comforting hand and rubbed Mac's back as the man finished bringing
up every last bit of Japanese food that he had eaten earlier for supper.
Grimacing slightly at the sight of his ruined jacket, Victor turned his
face away at the sight and smell of the regurgitated food, but he kept his hand
where it was, running it soothingly over the arched back of Mac.
"I'm okay now," Mac said softly. "Don't call anyone. It'll only draw
suspicion to what we were up to earlier." He sat up on his haunches and wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he spit in to rid himself of the foul
taste still left in his mouth. Mac noticed that there was blood on the back of
his hand but he paid it no mind; it was his head that hurt the most—it ached
like nothing he had ever felt before. He knew the sensible thing to do was to
get himself checked out, but to call an ambulance would be too risky. And plus,
he didn't really trust doctors. He just wanted to get home, some where safe so
that he could assess the damages done to him on his own.
Mac looked up to Victor and gave the slightly blurry man a small lopsided
grin, "Way to save my bacon, Vic," he kidded softly. Then he reached up and
tenderly wiped away some of the blood that was still oozing out of the corner
of Victor's mouth. Mac looked at the small gout of blood on his fingers and
with a slight frown before he wiped it off on his dark utility vest.
Victor smiled back. Relieved that his partner seemed okay now, he
convinced that Mac was just ' a little out of his head' when he told him that
he loved him.
He probably doesn't even remember that he spoke
Picking up the knapsack and swinging back over his shoulder, Victor stood up
and helped Mac to his feet, letting the wobbling man lean on him for support.
After a few steps, he remembered something and leading Mac to large a
garbage bin, he helped him take hold of the side of the steel box for support.
"Hang on a minute will ya," he said to Mac.
Victor left Mac momentarily to go back to where his jacket still lay. He
plucked the offending garment up with the thumb and forefinger of one hand and
as carefully as he could, using only the thumb and forefinger of the other
hand, pulled out what effects he had in the pockets of the jacket. He returned
to the trash bin with it and then dumped the jacket into the large receptacle.
"Sorry about that man. I guess I should have aimed better, eh?" Mac said
sheepishly to Victor.
"Oh well, some bum probably won't care that it's been puked on. I think
I'll let you take me shopping to one of those fancy stores you're always going
on about and buy me a new one though." Vic raised his eyebrows at his partner
and laughed heartily before saying, "Come on, let's get out of here before the
cops come by and try to take a statement or something. I'll take you home."
Victor placed an arm around his partner and held Mac firmly to his side,
gripping the dazed agent firmly. The two of them started down the alley in the
direction that they had been originally been heading before they were waylaid.
Part Eighteen: The beginning of the end
"Welcome back, partner," Victor whispered gently into Mac's face.
Mac's eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings and finally opened. He
found himself looking up into Victor's concerned face. He smiled weakly in
reassurance not only to Victor but to himself as well. Mac was glad to note,
that he in fact, was not dead. However, at that moment, he only felt
half-alive.
"Hey," Mac whispered back softly before closing his eyes, shuttering them
with the back of his hand against the early morning light; which made his
throbbing headache pulse harder.
Relieved by Mac's return to consciousness, Victor smiled toward his
partner before turning away. He went into the bathroom to rinse out the
washcloth that he had been holding with cold water, he was using it as a
cooling pad for Mac's forehead.
As soon as Victor was out of the room, Mac tried to ignore the pain in his
head and attempted to stand up. On a pair of very wobbly legs, he managed to
pull himself to a semi-upright position before a wave of debilitating dizziness
washed over him, causing his weak legs too just completely give out. Luckily,
at the same moment, Victor was returning from the bathroom and was just in time
to catch Mac before he fell to the floor.
"Whoa... hey watch it. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Victor
asked, his voice a mixture of anger and concern, as he eased his partner
carefully back into bed.
"Ugh," Mac groaned. "Don't shout at me. My head hurts." The pain in his
head was so great that he barely had enough energy to raise his voice above a
hoarse whisper.
Victor frowned at Mac's still form then deftly bent over to scoop up the
washcloth he had dropped when catching Mac. He folded it neatly and placed it
on Mac's brow so that it partially covered the man's closed eyes. "I'm not
yelling," Vic stated quietly. "It just sounds that way because you have a
concussion."
Mac purred softly when he felt the cool cloth press against his heated
skin. "Ahhh, that feels better."
While keeping one hand on the washcloth to hold it in place on Mac's
forehead, Victor out with his other hand to pull over a chair that was standing
nearby, and plunked himself down in it. He sat watching Mac as the other man's
chest rose and fell slowly while the rest of his body remained unmoving. Mac
stayed that way for so long, that after a while, Victor started wondering if
maybe Mac had gone back to sleep. But on a closer look, he realized that his
partner was merely resting as Mac's breathing was too shallow to be asleep.
Probably just trying to calm the headache
Victor pursed his lips. He was about to ask Mac if he wanted some Tylenol
when Mac spoke out first. "I meant what I said you know," he said, his voice
barely audible. Without opening his eye's Mac flipped the cloth over, so that
the cooler side was against his skin.
Victor's eyes widened with unease.
Oh shit, please Mac, not the I love you thing.
"What? You mean about the cold compress feeling good?" Victor questioned,
pretending not to understand what Mac was talking about.
Mac sighed. "No. Not that, fool. What I said to you last night in the
alley." He hesitated for a second before going on, "You know... when I told
you I loved you."
Mac was glad that his face was partially hidden by the cloth for he was
sure that he was blushing hard enough for Victor to see the telltale spots that
were colouring his cheekbones. Even though he had been thinking about Victor
and the possibilities of them being together for quite sometime now, he never
had the courage to do anything about it. But when they were attacked in the
alley, the thought, This is it. I'm gonna die had raced across his mind and
Mac had been sure that time had run out on him before he could confess his
love. He was not afraid of dying, but he was afraid to die with so much
unfinished business.
So, needing to resolve his feelings before certain death, Mac had decided
to speak his heart to Victor. He surprised even himself when he admitted out
loud to Victor what he could barely admit to himself privately. It was
something he would never think to do under normal circumstances.
But then when he woke up in his own bed and discovered that he hadn't
expired after all, Mac realized that he would have to deal with what he told
Vic. The events of last night had made Mac realize that there were no
absolutes in life. And recalling the cliche` about death and taxes, he
definitely didn't want to find himself standing at the 'pearly gates' with
regrets of what could have been. So instead of blithely passing off the remark
as nothing, Mac decided to deal with the situation head on and confront Victor
about his feelings in regards to what was said in the alley.
Only now Vic wasn't reacting quite like he'd hoped he would.
Oh God, Victor doesn't even know what I'm talking about. Shit, shit, SHIT!
Defying the inner turmoil he was feeling, Mac used what energy he had to
maintain his calm visage. Removing the cloth from his face and tossing it
aside, he looked up and directly into Victor's eyes before going on, "I meant
what I said, Vic. I really am in love with you. I have been for quite
sometime now."
Mac stared at Victor expectantly, waiting to see if the other man was
going to say anything. When Vic did not answer but only continued to stare at
him with a dumbfounded and mildly horrified look on his face, Mac knew
instantly just how grievous a mistake he'd made by pursuing this.
Victor felt his stomach slowly sink as he tried desperately to think of what
to say—of how to tell Mac he didn't reciprocate his feelings; especially
since he was still clinging onto his relationship with Mulder.
Damn it, Why didn't I see this coming? How could have I been so blind to
Mac's feelings?
Victor chastised himself. He hadn't seen it coming because he chose not
to. He had been perfectly willing to overlook those three little words that
had been called out by a man half out of his head with pain and concussion.
How did Mac even remember that he'd said that?
Vic honestly wished he could tell Mac that he shared the same feelings
that he too loved him for more than just the friend and partner he was. Victor
had no wish to hurt Mac's feelings, however, he knew it would be better to just
tell the truth. No matter what. Victor believed that it would do neither of
them any good if he were to string Mac along and make him believe there was
something between them when there wasn't. Only problem was, he had no idea how
to go about telling Mac how he felt now.
In a last ditch effort to avoid dealing with the problem for just a little
bit longer, Victor hedged, "Mac... um, I... I don't think this is a good time
to talk about this. You're barely conscious and still knocked half senseless.
We can talk about it in the morning."
Victor stood up suddenly and glanced at his watch. "Geez, it's six in the
morning already!" Vic nervously exclaimed. "I better go... now that you're not
in any danger of slipping into a coma or... anything. I'll call you later on to
see how you're f... feeling"
He gave Mac a tight smile before turning away and heading out the room.
He was almost out the door when he was stopped by Mac's voice calling out
weakly, "Vic, don't go. We need to talk about this."
When Victor hesitated, Mac implored, "Please, Victor," as he pulled
himself up to a sitting position. "I won't be mad I promise you," he added.
Victor hesitated, stock still his hand remained on the doorknob as he
seriously contemplated walking out. In the end, he turned around and went back
over to the chair he had been sitting in and turned it around so that he sat
straddling its back. Vic looked at Mac with eyes that were large and sad,
begging the other for understanding. "Mac," Vic began gently. "I don't want to
hurt you. You know that don't you?"
Mac nodded. "I know that Vic, but I have to know how you feel so just
tell me and I'll never bring it up again." In actuality, Mac could already
intuit by the way Victor was trying to avoid the subject that he did not
reciprocate his feelings; at the same time, Mac still wanted to hear it from
Victor's lips himself, just to be sure. It was strange, Mac never knew he had a
masochistic streak in him until now.
I must be the biggest sucker for punishment alive He thought miserably.
The look in Mac's big brown eyes broke Victor's heart. This was, without
a doubt, going to be one of the hardest things he would ever have to do. Victor
took a deep breath and began. "Mac, I love you too, but...," Vic paused before
continuing delicately, "I love you like the brother I never had. You're my
partner and my best friend and I wish I could feel the same way about you as
you do for me, but... I can't."
Victor swallowed hard. "I'm... I mean... Mulder and I... we've... "
Victor didn't know why he was having such a hard time telling Mac what was
going between him and the F.B.I. agent. He took another deep breath before
trying again. "You see, Mac, we've been talking to each other over e-mail and
before I picked you up last night to do the job he phoned me, and you see...
he... he misses me, as much as I miss him. And we've decided to try and make it
work out after all... "
Mac had watched as Victor's face changed as he talked about Mulder; his
features took on an almost dreamy, far-a-way look and Mac found himself
stricken with a heavy sense of envy for Fox Mulder and the hold he had on
Victor. Mac knew that Victor had never looked like that when he talked about
him or even LiAnne. The reality of the situation hit him and hit him hard. Now
he knew for sure that Victor was still in love with Mulder, and he would never
be able to compete with that. Mac's heart crumbled. He couldn't believe how
foolish he was not to see what was directly in front of his eyes the whole
time; that he was in love with a man who obviously loved another.
He had never felt more crushed in his whole life, even during the time he
found out LiAnne was engaged, and had no interest in getting back together with
him could compare to the sting of how he felt at this very moment.
After a while, Mac realized that he had been so lost in his own thoughts
of misery that he had not heard a word Vic had said in the last few seconds. He
shook himself out of it in time to hear Victor wrapping up.
"...who knows what will eventually happen? But we've decided to make
another go of it." Victor smiled lopsidedly.
"We're going to pretend that a long distance relationship will be actually
more romantic and not a hindrance. Mac... please." Victor leaned forward and
asked sincerely, "You understand don't you?"
Feeling very much like the blind idiot he believed he was and humiliated
beyond words, Mac merely nodded his head 'yes', not trusting himself to speak.
There was an awkward moment of silence. And Finally wanting only to be
left alone with his embarrassment over the whole situation, Mac managed to
shake whatever it was that had rendered him mute and said to Victor in a rather
cold voice, "I understand. Look, thanks for taking care of me last night.
You're right, there's no need for you to stay. You can go now."
Victor looked to Mac; he absorbed the steely facade and realized that the
hardness of his voice and the grim set to his lips was just a thin veneer to
hide his hurt. He pleaded gently, "Mac, please... let's not end things this
way. I..."
But before he could finish his sentence Mac interrupted with a curt,
"Look, I get it okay? You and Mulder are back together in mind and soul even
if not physically. No need to explain it further. Really. I think I've made a
big enough ass of myself for one day, don't you? Victor please, if you care
for me even just a little bit, you'll go now and leave me alone so I can at
least retain what little dignity I have left."
Mac flopped back down on the bed and covered his eyes—eyes that stung
with tears of humiliation—with his left arm.
Victor stood and leaned over to touch Mac's arm lightly, saying in a
slightly choked voice, "I'll phone you later okay?" When there was no reply,
Victor glumly turned around and walked out of his best friend's bedroom.
Cursing himself for ruining what was probably one of the most important
relationships in his life, Victor popped the top off his bottle a beer and took
a long drink.
Never in his whole life had Victor felt like such a heel. He sat on his
love seat and covered his eyes. He ran the whole awful conversation through
his head for the hundredth time and then groaned miserably. He could not get
over how sad Mac had looked when he told him about how he and Mulder were going
to take another shot at their relationship.
Victor took another swallow of cold beer and realized suddenly how much he
wanted, no, needed to see Mulder. He needed someone to ease his feelings of
guilt and misery. Setting his bottle aside, he reached for the phone only to
put it down again when a soft knock was heard at his door. Sighing, Victor
stood up, walked the few feet to the door and peeked out of the peephole. When
he saw who it was, he hurriedly undid all of the hardware and threw open the
door wide, beaming at the person who stood on the other side.
"Hey secret agent man, miss me?" Fox Mulder greeted him in a husky voice.
He was carrying his travel bag in one hand and his cell phone in the other.
Victor grabbed a hold of Mulder's wrist and pulled the man inside,
slamming the door behind the FBI agent. He barely turned around before Mulder
grabbed his shoulders and slammed him against the closed door. Mulder thrust
himself up against a thoroughly ecstatic Victor and captured his mouth in a
kiss so deep that Victor could've sworn that he could feel Mulder's tongue
making contact with his tonsils.
Mac awoke with a start. It took him a moment to figure out where he was,
he felt oddly disoriented. And when his mind finally established that he was
in his own bed in his own room in his own house, he sighed heavily.
Too bad the events of the early morning were real and not part of the
nightmarish images that had made his sleep disturbed and broken. He was amazed
that he was able to fall asleep at all after Victor had left. And now that he
was fully awake, he decided to just get up. Mac sniffed at his armpits and
turned his nose up disdainfully at the lingering odor, deciding that he was in
desperate need of a hot shower.
His need for a shower confirmed, Mac sat up very slowly and flung back the
covers. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and once his toes hit the
thick carpeting underneath, he grabbed the night stand to pull himself up
gingerly. His headache was still with him but none of the nausea and dizziness
of the night before and the early morning was left. He walked to the bathroom
slowly and flicked on the light before going in. Mac stood at the sink and
studied his reflection in the mirror, grimacing slightly at the sight of
himself in the mirror: underneath the bruises he saw his cheeks redden with the
remembrance of the humiliation of the mornings events. He could just kick
himself now for pushing the issue with Victor like he did.
How could I have been so stupid?!
Mac gave a snort of disgust at the mirror image of himself before turning
to switch on the radio. He tuned into his favorite station and then cranked
the volume up so that he would be able to hear the music over the noise of the
shower; walking around the corner into his shower he adjusted the temperature
to as hot as it could go without actually burning his aching skin. As Mac
washed himself, he began to run ideas through his head on how to solve this
tight fix he was in.
Mac figured his best shot, which would also be the most plausible, was to
simply tell Victor that he only vaguely remembered bits and pieces of what he
had said since he had been knocked in the head the night before. That he had
literally been out of his mind as a result of his massive headache, maybe he
could even say that he had a very mild case of amnesia.
Yeah, Vic'll buy that. Why not?
It was a lie of course, but then Mac was an expert at spinning a
believable web of deceit. The fact that he still knew very much where he stood
on the subject and where Victor stood for that matter wasn't important. What
was important was their friendship and he knew that if he wanted any hope of
salvaging it, then he'd better feign ignorance and just let the whole thing go.
It was the only way out of this difficult situation that Mac could see.
Shutting off the water, Mac grabbed his large fluffy towel and as he stood
there drying off, Jewel's haunting, lilting voice came over the airwaves and
began singing to him:
You took your coat off,
Mac paused in his drying; the words of the song brought on unbidden images
of Victor that swirled through his brain. In his mind's eye, he saw:
...Victor sitting upon a barstool, all alone in a pub full of people; a
solitary and desolate figure, looking abandoned after Li Anne had broken up with him...
...Victor, with sweat diluting the blood from a cut above his eye, laying on a
grimy bar room floor pleading with his former cop boss for his life...
...The look of fear in Victor's eyes as Mac reached out his hand so that Victor
could pull him to safety from the top of the old apartment building when the
burning rope that he had been clinging to had finally come apart...
...Victor's eyes, pupils magnified by tears that had not yet fallen as he sat
across from him, relating in a halting voice the litany of indignities he had
suffered at the hands of a madman...
Mac shivered when a cold chill came over him, he cleared his thoughts of
Victor and reached out to snap the radio off brusquely. The words had hit a
little too close to home for his taste. Mac tossed the towel on the floor and
exited the bathroom. As he dressed, all Mac could think of was that he hoped
he was not too late to fix this mess.
"Mulder," Victor moaned as they came apart from their passionate kiss. He
held Mulder's face between his own warm, slightly shaking hands and looked
searchingly into the agent's eyes. He knew the emotions he saw in them, a
heavy mixture of longing and lust, which was probably reflected in his own
eyes. "I can't believe you're here. I was just thinking right now how much I
wanted to hear your voice again."
"Then it's a good thing I showed up when I did, huh?" Mulder growled
softly before raising his hands to grip Victor's fingers tightly.
Victor leaned back against the locked door and eyed his lover
lasciviously, he wondered what the agent was going to do.
Mulder let go of Victor and using his fingertips solely, he started to
caress his way down Victor's hard, muscled arms, stopping at his lover's wrists
to hold onto them tightly within his own hands. He gave Vic's wrists a firm
squeeze and then capturing the other man's eyes with his own, slowly sank to
his knees.
Victor was breathless with excitement as he watched Mulder fall before
him.
Without breaking eye contact with Victor, Mulder grinned wolfishly and
released the wrists so he could undo the top button of the man's jeans. Mulder
flicked out his pink tongue and scooped up the tiny metal tab. He brought the
captured bit of brass up to his lips and held it firmly between his teeth.
Then he began to pull it down with a deliberate slowness-releasing the small
brass teeth one by one-seductively, increasing the level of anticipation for
his lover.
Victor sighed heavily, squirming slightly when the zipper was finally
opened. Mulder reached up to grip both underwear and denim and started to pull
them down. With every bit of soft white flesh that was exposed, he grazed the
bare spot with his tongue. He pushed the material down slowly until it finally
reached Victor's knees. Mulder batted his eyelashes up at Victor one final
time before settling his gaze from the other man's face to the view of creamy,
smooth skin directly before him. Mulder stared at Victor's large erection and
then inhaled deeply, the dusky scent of his lover. A man whom he had missed
more than he thought possible. Plunging forward, Mulder, in one fluid motion
swallowed Victor down whole from tip to root.
Victor moaned his pleasure at having his hardness engulfed by lips that
were sensously full, not to mention incredibly warm. He raised his hands to
Mulder's head and gripped the short brown hair firmly between his fingers,
trying to urge Mulder to hurryhis rhythm. In return though, Mulder only
grinned to himself while he happily ignored Victor's urgings. He had been
fantasizing about Victor and what he wanted to do to him the time that he was
back in DC. Even on the plane trip here, he had been conjuring up fantasies of
him. Mulder had been slowly building his own anticipation, and he was damn
well going to take his sweet time to make sure his fantasies will be fulfilled.
After a few more minutes of painstakingly slow, deep strokes, Mulder
increased his rhythm slightly. In response Victor accelerated the gyrations of
his hips and moaned loudly, showing just how much delight he was drawing from
the blow-job. And just as Victor thought he was going to cum, Mulder pulled
his mouth away from Victor's throbbing penis without warning.
Victor's eyes popped open wide with surprise, but Mulder only flashed him a
devilish smile. He was by no means finished with his lover, so he wasn't about
to let Victor finish either.
Mulder swallowed down his own index finger deliberately, wetting it
thoroughly. He leaned in again and ran his tongue from the perineum to the
base of Vic's cock before continued sucking Victor, just as he had been doing.
It didn't take long for Mulder to get a good rhythm going again and once he
did, he used his slick finger to probe Victor's sensitive, tight opening.
After taking the time to ready the agent, Mulder sank his finger past his
knuckle to the hilt and searched for the small walnut-sized gland, that when
stimulated properly could drive a man wild with ecstasy. When he found it, he
gave it a few good strokes.
He heard Vic's quick intake of breath and then listened to the man as he
mumbled almost incoherently, "Oh Jesus Christ, yesss."
Mulder knew that Victor would not, could not last much longer so he
brought up his free hand and wrapped it around Victor's weeping cock. Using
hand, mouth and finger in carefully coordinated unison, he deftly brought
Victor over the threshold. He thrashed and moaned as he sent his life's seed
down his lover's throat. Mulder swallowed all that Victor had to offer
greedily.
When Victor was completely spent, he reached down and pulled Mulder up off
his knees. He hugged the man to his chest tightly. "Oh God, Mulder, I needed
that," Victor murmured directly into Mulder's ear.
Mulder, in return, braced him back just as fiercely. "I can tell," he
replied. Pulling back slightly, he looked Victor in the eyes again. Smiling
lightly, he said, "Surprise. I'm back" and then he chuckled.
Victor blinked and beamed. "And am I ever glad for it too. Actually, I
have to talk to you, but it can wait." He reached down and fondled Mulder's
erection. Mulder hadn't had an orgasm and he was as hard as a chunk of
granite. Victor rubbed his palm lewdly up and down the Armani encased cock.
He raised his eyebrows and grinned wolfishly, as Mulder had done earlier.
"Come to the bedroom, G-man, and I'll really welcome you back."
Victor grasped Mulder's hand and without waiting for an answer, pulled him
in the direction of the bedroom, intent on showing the agent just how happy he
was to see him.
The shrill ringing of the phone pulled Victor out of his late afternoon,
post-coital slumber. He made a blind grab for the phone quickly to prevent it
from sounding again.
"Hello?" Victor croaked. His throat was so dry he could barely get the
words out. In remembering how it got to be so dry, he couldn't help grinning.
He raised some saliva in his mouth and swallowed, before
trying again.
"Hello?" he said, this time more firmly.
"Mansfield? It's me. We've got a situation. Get down here on the
double!" came the Director's voice in a tone that left no room for argument.
Victor looked over his shoulder at Mulder, who was lying awake on his back
staring at the ceiling fan as if mesmerized by its slow hypnotic movements.
With his eyes fixed on Mulder, Vic grinned again before
asking, "What's going on?"
"I'll fill you in when you get here," came the reply. The Director hung up
in the agent's ear, without saying another word. Victor replaced the handset
on its cradle and rolled over to gather up his bedmate so that they were
face-to-face in his arms. Victor squeezed Mulder passionately and then told
him softly, "I gotta go to the office for a few hours. You don't mind do you?"
After he had spoken, Victor, giving into temptation, put his lips to Mulder's
smooth neck and began to nibble on it, noting to himself that Mulder could use
a shave.
"Mmm," cooed Mulder. "No. I've got somewhere I have to be anyway" He
made a small sound of protest when Vic stopped what he was doing to look at
Mulder in surprise.
"Where? I thought this was a... vacation... of sorts." Vic tried not to
sound too disappointed at the thought that Mulder might be here working a case
and that visiting him was just a pit stop.
"Well, officially—on paper, that is—I am on vacation. But the truth is,
in addition too wanting to come to see you, I also got a lead on a...," Mulder
hesitated, not sure of how much he should tell Victor of what he knew. He
decided to skirt the main issue for now. "...off-the-record X-file I've been
interested in."
"Oh." Victor paused then and asked in genuine curiosity, "An
off-the-record X-File? What's it about?"
"I got a tip from an anonymous source that there appears to be a mass
abduction site deep in the heart of Ontario's Algonquin Park," Mulder said
rather happily. He smiled apologetically at Vic and added,"Sorry slugger, I
have an appointment to meet a couple of guides at the provincial park board
here in town."
For a minute Victor thought Mulder was joking about the 'mass abduction
site', but then after giving it more thought, and judging by the serious look
on Mulder's face, he knew that this was no joke. To
Mulder at least.
"When do you have to be there?" Vic sat up and gave his scalp a lazy
scratch. Mulder leaned over and picked up his watch from the night stand to
look at the time. He met Vic's gaze and answered, "In an hour and a half.
Damn. Vic, sorry. I wish I could've caught an earlier flight. But everything
was booked up solid."
Mulder swung his legs over the end of the bed and stood up. Extending his
hands high over his head, he gave his lanky body a much needed stretch.
Vic stood and did the same. With catlike stealth, Victor walked up behind
Mulder, who was still stretching, and grasped the man around the waist. He bit
Fox's earlobe gently and whispered, "Maybe we shouldn't have slept so much."
Victor gave the small lobe another delicate nip and then moved his mouth from
the sexy bit of flesh to work his way down the sensual curve of Mulder's neck.
Peeking over the slightly taller man's shoulder, Vic saw that his soft bites
and kisses were working to arouse his lover.
Mulder patted the backs of the hands that ringed his waist and turned
around while still in Victor's grip, so that they were facing each other.
Mulder kissed Victor deeply on the lips. Before long, he switched
from Victor's mouth to his neck. Victor arched his head to the side, purring
from the sensations he felt. Mulder bit Vic's shoulder hard enough to leave
teeth marks. And while rubbing his erection over Victor's hard cock, Mulder
husked a reply to Victor's 'sleeping' comment, "Maybe we're just getting older,
hmm? We are already in our 30's, Vic; we need more recovery time in between
orgasms." After having said that he bent his head back and continued to kiss
the other side of Vic's neck.
Victor knew that Mulder was just kidding about the 'older remark'. Adding
his own jest to the conversation, Victor murmured, "Not older G-man, just
better... ooh yeah, right there!" Vic interrupted himself when Mulder found
the exact right spot at the top of Vic's shoulder muscle and sucked on it.
After a beat, Vic continued, "We're just getting better..."
Mulder finally pulled away from his merciless teasing of Victor's neck and
shoulder. Kissing Victor deeply once more, he asked, "By the way, who was
that on the phone. Dragon Lady?" Mulder reluctantly severed his embrace with
Victor, and reaching for his hand, pulled him behind himself toward the shower.
"Yeah. I have to go into the office. She claims there's some sort of a
situation. I can drop you off to wherever you're heading on the way there
though," Victor grumbled to Mulder's back as the two of them stepped under the
shower's stream.
Victor drove to the Provincial Park office and pulled over in front of the
building. He glanced around quickly before reaching over and grabbing the back
of Mulder's head to pull the agent into one last, lusty kiss. He released
Mulder's head after a while and ran his fingers through the other man's hair.
Mulder touched his slightly puffy lips with his fingers. He had been
smiling, but then he dropped the smile and gave a Victor serious look. "Vic, in
a few days I'll be back. And then, we need to have a talk. A very serious
one. What I need to tell you may seem crazy, but I'll need you to listen
carefully to what I'm going to say, Victor, and...and I'll need you believe
me..." Mulder trailed off when he saw the look of
confusion on his lover's face.
"Mulder, whatever you have to say, just say it. No matter what, I will
always believe you." After a pause, Victor added, "Trust me" more firmly. He
prayed to God that Mulder wasn't having second thoughts and was trying to back
out of their relationship again.
"Vic...," Mulder started but then stopped and hesitated as he wasn't
quite sure how to tell Victor about all that he knew—about the possibility of
an apocalypse on the horizon due to alien colonization that was almost
inevitable. "There's a war brewing, Vic. A war that will be fought against
creatures the likes of which you and most other human beings have never seen,
let alone imagined. Scully and I are working to put a stop to the war, but I
don't know if we will even make a difference. All we can do is try."
Mulder paused to gauge Victor's reaction. When nothing drastic was
forthcoming, he continued. "Look...I'll explain more when I come back, but for
now please, just...promise me you'll keep an open mind," Mulder implored. He
had also planned on telling Victor about Krycek's visit to him late one night
with the 'tip' he was 'interested' in, but he decided now wasn't the right
time.
I'll tell him when I get back
"All right. Sure, Mulder. Anything you ask." Victor was actually a little
doubtful about Mulder's talk of an impending war brought about by strange
creatures, but since it seemed so important to him, he
decided to try to believe in what he was saying. "I'll keep an open mind." He
promised.
"Good, then I'll explain everything on the return visit. Okay?" Mulder
reached over, grabbed Victor and kissed him roughly but briefly. Releasing
him, Mulder opened the truck door and grabbed his gear as he started to step
out. He looked back at Vic, whose lips were set in a straight line of
determination, before leaving the car.
"I only want to keep you safe, spy-guy," he added and then with a lopsided
grin, confessed, "After all...I do love you." And with those words he shut the
door and made his way to the park's office.
Victor watched his lover until he was completely out of sight. Then he
put the truck in drive and pulled out of the park office. As he drove on, he
tried to think about other things, but his mind kept on wandering back to
Mulder's ominous words about an approaching war.
Victor gave Mac a call after dropping Mulder off to see if he wanted a
ride into the Agency, and was surprised to find that neither Mac nor LiAnne had
been called into work. Mac didn't like the sound of it at all. He believed
that if there was a 'situation' like the Director had said, then she would have
called the whole team in. Mac thought it smelled like a set-up and Victor had
to agree.
Once in the truck, Mac immediately set about burying the embarrassing
business of the morning once and for all. He turned to Vic and said, "Look,
Vic, about this morning...I'm really sorry I was such an asshole. Actually, I
was hallucinating about LiAnne...that she was the one who was looking after
me...and...well things just got really mixed up and you know...."
Victor nodded of his head, so Mac continued, "You know, Victor...IóI love
you too, but it's like you said, were like the brothers. Not only that,
you're my partner and I trust you with my life."
Mac stopped there and smiled. He thought that Victor was buying his whole
story. Mac always believed himself to be a good liar, a lifetime spent with
dishonest, unscrupulous, and murderous thieves
had shown him how to be truly great at it.
"I know, Mac," Victor said. "Look, it's okay. I understand. I'm sorry
about this morning too. I shoulda known better than to get all worked up over
the words of a delirious man."
He laughed lightly and shook his head. Even though he knew Mac was lying,
he played along to convince Mac he believed in his tale.
Better to just let things go Victor decided to himself.
Victor pushed open the doors and led the way into the Director's large
office. Mac followed close behind on Victor's heels. Both men stopped in the
room when they saw that as usual, the Director was
nowhere to be found. They plopped themselves down side by side in two of the
three large black leather chairs to wait.
After a moment, the two men heard clicks on the wooden floor behind them,
signaling their boss' arrival. Mac and Vic swung in tandem and came
face-to-face with a very pissed-off looking Director. She narrowed her eyes at
Victor and resumed slowly walking around behind the table, not once taking her
steely glare off of the man. Only after watching the two men squirm in the
uncomfortable silence for several minutes, did she finally speak up, "I thought
I told you to come alone Victor." She ground out, intentionally ignoring Mac.
Victor smiled nervously, glanced at Mac and then said after clearing his
throat, "No, I believe you said that we had a 'situation' and I was to get my
ass down here as soon as possible."
Mac was amazed to see the Director narrow her glare even more. It was
obvious she was completely pissed and Mac could guess why. He and Victor
figured that she had probably discovered the missing blackmail tapes. Both of
them had hoped, however, that it would take her longer than a day to find
out.
The Director, unimpressed with Victor's flippant attitude, looked at Mac
and said to the silent agent, "Get out. You weren't asked to come in. Go home
and put some ice on those black eyes. You look like shit." As an afterthought
she added, "Fighting in the bars again?"
Mac sucked in his bottom lip and chewed on it briefly before saying,
"Victor asked me to come." He shrugged his shoulders as if that should
explain everything. He didn't dare to offer up and explanation as to how he
got his bruises.
The Director looked from Mac to Vic and then back again. "Oh I see," she
said with a smirk playing around her mouth. "It's like that, is it? Victor
asked you to come with him, did he?" her eyebrows rose
with a silent question.
"Like what?" questioned Victor, not liking the implications the Director
was making. "Just what are you suggesting?" His tone was deep and tinged with
anger.
"I'm not implying anything, Victor. Why are you so paranoid?" The
Director did not wait for an answer to her question but said instead, "I need
to talk to you. In private. Unless, of course, you want to air out your dirty
laundry in front of Mac." She continued to glare at Victor, making a hmmph
sound when he did not immediately answer.
Wisely Mac chose to be seen and not heard. Victor may not be afraid of
the Director but he sure as hell was. After another round of the staring
contest between Director and agent, Victor blinked and said calmly, "Anything
you have to say you can say in front of Mac. He's my partner. We have no
secrets." Victor was not going to let the Director push him around anymore.
"All right. Fine." The Director shrugged as if it didn't really matter.
"Last night someone broke into my office and stole some...surveillance tapes of
mine. Surveillance footage of you Victor, to be exact. At first I thought it
was random; you know, an agent gone bad, looking for the goods on me and the
other Directors. But I checked around and it seems that I was the only one
whose security was breached. So I say to my self, 'hmmm...'" the Director held
her elbow in one hand and used the finger of the other to tap at her temple,
"...who would want to steal some videotapes with Victor on them? Well the only
conclusion I can come too is...you." The director shook her finger at Vic like
he was a naughty child being reprimanded. "You must've stolen my tapes,
Victor. But now since you've brought your partner along, I see that
this little B&E was probably a tandem effort."
The Director suddenly slammed both of her hands flat on the tabletop in
front of the men, the loud slapping noise made both of the men jump in their
seats. "I want those tapes back Victor, and I want them back right now!" she
bellowed into the agent's face.
Bravely, Victor smiled slyly at the Director and said. "I don't know what
you're talking about. Last night Mac and I were in the bar drinking. That's
how he got the bruises." Vic raised his palm toward Mac, who
simply gave the Director a small half-smile. "We weren't anywhere near the
Agency last night."
The Director wanted to slap the smirk right off of Victor's face, instead
she turned to Mac and said, "Leave us. I want to talk to Vic in private."
Mac, not wanting to tempt fate again, stood and said to Victor, "I'll wait
for you outside, okay?"
Impatient for Mac to leave, the Director snapped, "Yes, Mac, I'm sure it's
okay. Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot him. Or at least I don't think I
am. Would you just go?!"
Mac walked out of the room and nonchalantly Victor watched him go. He
knew that now he was the one who held all the cards. If the Director had had
another set of tapes of Mulder and him, she would not be so anxious to get the
missing ones he had back. Victor figured she had probably meant to copy them
but hadn't gotten around to it yet.
Too bad for her
He thought with satisfaction as he swivelled around in his chair.
The director waited until the door was fully closed behind Mac before
she spoke. "Look Victor, I know it was you who broke in here last night. You
and—judging by the guilty look on his face—Mac."
She stabbed her finger in the air toward Victor, "You think you've won,
haven't you? Well you may have won this battle but the war is far from over.
Got it? If I ever find the proof that you were in
here, I'll kill you myself. Capice?"
Then, knowing that she had been defeated on this matter, she swallowed
hard and said more gently, "Well you're free to go Victor. Leave the Agency if
you want. I have nothing to hold you to us now."
Victor stood up suddenly and pushed his chair away with the backs of his
knees. He was angry—angry that the director had started this whole thing in
the first place. "No, I won't resign, only because I still believe in what
we're doing here is right. But I swear to God you had better keep the 'eyes
and ears' out of my apartment from now on. You caught me unaware once, but it
won't happen again. Believe me."
Victor took a deep breath, collected himself and then said calmly, "I'll
be in Monday morning bright and early." And in a final display of rebellion,
he puckered his lips and kissed the air, making a smacking noise. "See-ya," he
called as he headed for the door.
Once outside of the office, he found Mac, who was leaning against a post.
Mac immediately straightened and went over to stand beside his partner.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
Victor turned to Mac and gave his partner a beautiful smile. A genuine
smile, the first real one Mac had seen in ages. Victor's green eyes shone from
the flourescent overhead lighting. "Everything's fine, Mac. Just fine." Victor
threw a friendly arm over Mac's shoulder and said, "Let's go get a beer and
celebrate my freedom."
Mac added a cheery, "Yahhh" and then down the hall they went.
THE VERY END OF THIS SERIES
Once a Thief: The Net Serial
by Demi-X
Part One
Take the long way to work
Victor walked out into the bright sunshine of the late afternoon. The pleasant
heat of the day
doing nothing to cheer him up. Mulder had gone, and once again, he was alone.
Fox didn't have a choice in the matter, he'd had to leave; to get back to his own job
and to his own
partner. It wasn't easy for them to say goodbye, but there was no help for it and
knowing how they
felt about each other, made it all the more difficult.
Flight or fight
The door knob rattled and then the lock click open. The bead of sweat
that had formed on the back of Victor's neck broke away and rolled slowly down
his naked spine. In just a few short seconds, Victor knew that he would be
fighting for his life, the element of surprise, his only advantage in the
situation. It seemed to take Jack forever to coming through the door; the
seconds ticked away like minutes. And during that dead time, Victor lay
perfectly still not daring to move even an inch. He forced himself to keep his
breathing even; resisting the impulse to take flight instead of fight.
Breaking Up Is Hard to Do
Wow, that sounds serious," Victor quipped when Mulder greeted him grimly
with the words, 'We need to talk' the minute Vic had walked through his
door. The broad smile that Victor had been wearing slowly dissolved when he
realized that Mulder was serious. He stuck his keys in the pocket of his
well-worn leather jacket before slipping it on the coat rack that stood near
the door. Victor was stalling; he had a feeling that whatever it was that
Mulder was planning to say to him, it was probably not going to be good news.
About leav'in, leav'in me behind
Ohh-Ohh bring it to me
bring your sweet Lovin'
bring it on home to me.
Ohh yeahh.
Till I'm dead and buried in my grave.
Ohhh bring it to me..
bring your sweet lovin'..
bring it on home to me,
Yeahh-Yeahh.
3:00 AM
Late night/early mornings
Standing in complete darkness, Mac can hear a man screaming for help.
Over and over again he hears it, the voice will not go away. As he turns around
and around in circles, seeking the direction of the cries, suddenly it comes to
him whose voice it is that he's hearing. Its Victor's.
Vic's Apartment
How I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year.
Running over the same old ground,
have we found the same old fears?
Wish you were here.
The Director's personal office 2:00 a.m.
it started to rain
you were always crazy like that
and I watched from my window
I always felt I was outside looking in on you.
You were always the mysterious one
with dark eyes and careless hair
you were fashionably sensitive but too cool to care.
You stood in my doorway with nothing to say
besides some comment on the weather,
well in case you failed to notice,
in case you failed to see
this is my heart bleeding before you,
this is me down on my knees.
And these foolish games are tearing me apart,
and your thoughtless words are breaking my heart...
breaking my heart...
