"...and for God sake don't eat anything Mulder, bring it back here, let me
take a look at it first. And try to avoid allowing it to touch your skin if
possible, some fungi have powerful toxins which can be ingested through the
skin..."
"Yeah thanks Scully, next time I need a thesis on The Fucking Obvious I'll
consult you." It was a cheap shot and he regretted it immediately. But hell,
apparently it was snippy season at the moment, and anyway, during an earlier
venting session she'd informed him he was arrogant and self absorbed, an
unfounded accusation which he'd mentally filed away for discussion with her at
a more appropriate time.
He stomped off into the undergrowth, half a mind to get himself deliberately
lost, instigate a full scale search and rescue and end this madness now. The
attempt to get him, Scully, Skinner and Spender to bond into a cohesive unit
in the face of adversity just wasn't working. Between them they comprised a
team of such staggering dysfunctionality that they were more likely to end up
eating each other before their rations ran out. What the fuck had possessed
Skinner to agree to them being sent on this team building 'Experience' anyway?
He recalled the evangelical exhortations of the brochure he'd found in his in-
tray weeks ago, the bizarre exchange he'd had with Skinner about it.
Believe me Agent Mulder, I don't relish the prospect of this any more than
you or Agent Scully, but the Bureau's recent commitment to quality assurance
and customer satisfaction requires that we devote resources to making trust,
teamwork and open communication a reality rather than a concept.
Ahh yes, what was it the brochure had said again?
"When we dream alone, it is only a dream.
When we dream together, it's the beginning of reality."
"More like a mass fucking hallucination" Scully had snarled.
Hhmm. He wondered whether he'd recognize magic mushrooms if he saw them. A
nice little high would be just what the doctor ordered right now (Dr D Scully
excepting)—drop a couple of caps, mellow out, sleep through tomorrow, come
up smiling on Sunday.
"...Open and flexible communication and decision making methods, and emphasis
on creative problem solving are stressed...."
A free and frank exchange of views between Spender and Skinner over the
misreading of map co-ordinates had merely resulted in the creative response
that Skinner should "just fuck off and die." Mulder doubted that this heralded
a glorious new era of openness and mutual respect between the two.
"...Skills learned in the wilds and teams forged in the wilderness experience
produce cohesive, effective and creative employees and teams on their return
to work..."
Someone needs to design a fucking course to teach people how they're
supposed to actually get on with their jobs when they keep getting sent away
on fucking courses.
He was cold, wet, hungry and badly needed a piss but stomped on through the
undergrowth to put some distance between himself and his 'team', keeping an
eye out for anything that looked edible and non-toxic. Less than twelve hours
into the exercise Agent Spender had already been cruelly struck down by the
shits, and although Mulder found this amusing, he had no desire for Scully or
Skinner to be similarly afflicted. Not yet, anyway...
He found himself in a gloomy clearing and stood up against a tree to empty his
bladder, listening intently to the woodland noises. Some people found them
unnerving, but he found them oddly comforting—evidence of nature's
perpetuity, despite man's interference. He wondered idly how many hundred
pairs of eyes were focused on him at this precise moment, watching him perform
an act of nature that united them all. He heard an owl calling; it seemed to
have been his companion since he left the camp. Maybe he hadn't come that far
after all. Should they try to catch fish when he got back? Surely between them
they could fashion a hook, dig out some bait; and Skinner, he must have some
survivalist techniques he could bring into play. There was that owl again.
Odd. Standing there, taking a leak, cock in hand it sounded incredibly close
and almost...lewd—the 'twit twoo' morphing into something suspiciously
like...a wolf whistle.
In the split second his brain took to process each constituent piece of
information and conclude that Krycek was about to jump him, Krycek jumped him.
Mulder fell forward, clutching at the tree, trying to keep upright, succeeding
in slithering down its trunk, though having the presence of mind to cross his
legs before the bark made contact with anything more tender than his cheek.
Krycek straddled his back for a second before allowing himself to be flipped
over as Mulder wrestled him off. They eyed one another—Mulder's blood
pressure hiked up several notches, propelled by the smirk that played on
Krycek's lips.
"Krycek?! What the hell do you think you're playing at? What are you doing
here?"
"Jeez, Mulder, just saved you from the one-eyed trouser snake, a little
gratitude wouldn't go amiss".
"Christ, I thought we had an understanding!" Mulder began stuffing himself
into his pants. "Have you any idea of the trouble this could make for me if
anyone-"
"Oh relax!" Alex was visibly irritated. "Christ, you're so self absorbed, it's
always about you isn't it."
Jesus, not you as well, Alex...
Alex rested back on his elbows, assuming a disinterested air, examining his
ragged fingernails. "For your information I'm here for the same reason you are
- just taking the night air before going back for a session of enforced
bonding with my home boyz."
Mulder took a minute to make sense of this. The only thing more absurd than
fully trained, experienced law enforcement agents being forced to engage in
this sort of touchy-feely crap was the thought of a bunch of psychotic thugs,
answerable to a shadow government, engaging in it alongside them.
Alex registered Mulder's incredulity and grinned. "At the end of the day,
we're all feeding from the same trough, Mulder. These days if you get a policy
memo, chances are we've got it too. I'm here legit.
"So, I gather we're not allowed back until we've probed our inner child or
something? Speaking of which, care to do a little probing of your own, hmm?"
Alex ran the palm of his hand suggestively across Mulder's stomach, snapping
him back to life. He slapped Alex's fingers away.
"Stop that! I only came out here for a piss and..." twitch of lips, anger
fading, "...to gather the fruits of the forest to feast on."
They settled into a practiced routine of innuendo. Alex scooted up closer.
"Oh, so you were expecting me then? Strange, I don't see dinner."
"I couldn't see anything to tempt my palate."
"Well, allow me to slip you some meat."
"Down boy; Scully said I'm not to swallow anything without her taking a look
at it first."
Alex shuddered. He picked himself up off the forest floor and began pacing,
hugging himself. Mulder noticed that he was lightly dressed in a plaid shirt,
his familiar jacket missing.
"Anyway, I kinda had Skinner pegged as the hunter-gatherer type. How come the
big guy isn't out here wrestling wild boar with his bare hands?
"I left him fashioning a loin cloth out of his knapsack. We're taking turns to
go a-foraging. Anyway, what happened to you, you don't look appropriately
dressed for outdoor pursuits?"
"They made a team decision to use my coat to rig up a sling for a bosun's
chair, upstream. I'm fucking freezing my balls off."
Mulder reached into his knapsack, drew out an orange slicker. "Here, don't say
I never give you anything".
"Ooh, orange nylon, always a good look on me." Mulder made to take it back,
but Alex snatched it from him.
"You sure? I don't wanna put you out."
Mulder eyed him quizzically. "Careful, Alex. All this bonding's turning you
soft. Anyway, you're not putting me out. It's Spender's." The idea had a
certain appeal and they both snickered.
Alex took the orange monstrosity, tugged it on over his shirt. It unraveled to
just above his knees. He pulled up the hood for effect. On a whim Mulder leant
forward and pulled the draw strings tight, gathering the hood so that it
obscured Alex's eyes and chin. They giggled some more, easy with one another
now. Mulder tugged Alex against him, still holding the drawstrings.
"What will you tell the others? They'll want to know where you got it."
"The truth, more or less. I'll say I mugged some wussy Fed kid. That's kinda
our unofficial team objective anyway."
Alex's arms encircled Mulder's waist. He rested his head briefly on Mulder's
shoulder.
"Christ, I've missed you." Softly, Mulder only just caught it. The sort of
admission Alex would never make at full volume, or in full visibility. He
cupped a hand under his head and drew Alex round to look at him. The tightness
of the hood meant that only that luscious mouth was visible, but the erotic
tableau this presented was offset by the fact that the rest of his face was
obscured by that ridiculous orange hood. Mulder pulled at the hood. "Get that
damn thing off—let me see you."
Alex pulled it back and off, grinning. It had started to rain lightly. They
regarded each other for a second, then Mulder pulled him into an embrace,
kissed him warmly. He felt Alex shiver and pulled him closer still. He knew
Alex didn't need taking care of, but was grateful for the pretense the other
man allowed him to construct. He felt Alex's fingers on his face, his thumb
insistently stroking at his chin, his lower lip, even while they kissed. His
other hand strayed down Mulder's chest, testing the firmness of his stomach,
resting on the waistband of his pants, then delving further.
He undid his fly button and slipped his hand inside, seeking the hardness the
visible bulge in Mulder's jeans promised. His fingers teased their way towards
his cock, encouraged by his soft groans. Alex broke the kiss and began a
familiar, breathy litany in Mulder's ear.
"So, you been missing me too then, babe?.. Yeah, course you have. See, I had a
guy watch you while I been out of town, Mulder. You don't get much action when
I'm not around do you, sweethea-"
Without warning Mulder grasped his wrist and yanked his hand violently away
and upwards, holding it in an iron grip at eye level, between them. He stared
at Alex, his expression unreadable, intense, before turning to his captured
hand, studying it, then...breathing on it.
"Warm your hands first." He flashed a grin.
Alex let out the breath he'd been holding and closed his eyes, silently
cursing Mulder.
He felt Mulder's breath on his cheek. "What's the matter, Alex? I thought you
considered mind fuckery an essential element of foreplay?"
They kissed with renewed vigor, Alex's tongue now seeking submission. He
pulled his hand away from Mulder's, careful to place it behind his back in the
open air, willing any residual warmth it had attained from Mulder's grasp to
evaporate, before shoving it back into his pants and grasping him firmly.
Mulder all but shrieked at the icy contact and tried to extricate himself from
Alex's grasp. Feeling Mulder's excitement start to dwindle under the cool
touch, Alex let go and patted Mulder on the cheek.
"Never forget you're fucking with the master here, Fox."
Mulder made a noise of disgust and made to push him away.
"Aww, poor Fox, did the game get too scary?" Alex giggled. "Truce, Mulder,
truce...TRUCE!" He managed to contain Mulder's struggles and eventually coax a
reluctant grin from him.
"Fuck it, but you better warm me up, Alex, now. Feels like I'm packing a
popsicle down there."
Alex kissed him once more, gently this time. "S'Okay. I'll take care of you".
He dipped down, freed Mulder's softening cock and took it into his mouth,
sucking gently to coax it to hardness again. Mulder gasped at the sensation,
at the delicious heat that curled around his thighs, across his stomach. His
hands moved to cup the back of his lover's head, applying a welcomed
pressure. Alex usually forced Mulder's hands away when giving head, pinned
them behind his back, insisting on total control, but for now he was content
to let himself be guided, for Mulder to control his movements and shape them
to his own needs. He dropped his hands to entwine around Mulder's calves and
gave up his mouth to Mulder's thrusts. He felt a hand move from its steadying
position at the back of his head, and slip round to the front of his face.
Mulder was mirroring his earlier action, stroking his face, inserting his
thumb between Alex's lips, relishing the feeling of both his own hand and
Alex's mouth on his cock. His fingers cupped the side of Alex's jaw, measuring
the strokes of his tongue and throat. He felt orgasm approach far too soon, a
delicious uphill drag that he both welcomed and tried to stave off before
surrendering to, withdrawing his fingers and pushing himself deep into Alex's
throat, holding his head steady.
When he recovered himself, Alex was still at his feet, head resting against
his thigh, laughing softly.
"What?!"
"Just thinking, that's the only hot meal I'm gonna get today."
Mulder rolled his eyes, held out his hand to help Alex up. "C'mere you."
He pulled him into an embrace. They held each other quietly for a few moments,
Alex's head cradled into his neck, Mulder stroking his hair; a stolen moment
of tenderness, unexpected and therefore all the more appreciated. Then the
silence was punctured.
"Krrrrrrrrycek!!! Where the fuck have you hid yourself, you lousy
motherfucker?! Get back here, now!!!"
Mulder felt Alex scowl against him, and grinned. "Ahh, the covert Consortium
distress signal, I presume? How can we possibly hope to triumph against the
forces of evil in the face of such cunning."
His words, though meant lightly, drew them both up abruptly, emphasizing the
gulf that separated them.
Alex pulled out of his embrace, smiling ruefully. "I have to go,
babe...Later..." He backed away, holding Mulder's gaze, looking more wistful
and beautiful and dangerous than any man swathed to the knee in an orange,
nylon waterproof had a right to, then turned and sprinted off in the direction
of his colleagues.
Mulder closed his eyes and rested against the tree a moment, cursing his words
and willing Alex to retrace his steps, renounce his treacherous ways and run
away with him to a brave new life where together they could fight the forces
of evil and fuck each other senseless in roughly equal portions.
After a couple of minutes, when it became obvious that this wasn't going to
happen any time soon, he rearranged himself, picked up his knapsack and went
in search of his team.
The End
Red Tape
by Hattie
Scully's parting words of wisdom rang in his ears.
