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Slaves to Transgression

Part II
by Katail


Mulder stared at the manila folder lying on the bed next to him. The little, white label on the tab was curled up at the corner. The name, Darren Quick, was typed neatly, but the "Q" had been smudged when someone had pressed the label down too quickly. Mulder ran a finger over the curled edge, then flicked his hand and the contents were exposed. Nasty facts and hollow-eyed children—Darren Quick was a sick man.

"And now there's someone sicker," Mulder whispered to the empty hotel room. "Except our new guy doesn't just pick them young, he likes them dead."

Mulder closed his eyes and lay back down on too soft, flat pillow.

Two years. Two years and four months, actually. That was the last time Fox Mulder had seen or heard from the detective, Ray Kowalski. The call from the cop came at a time when all Mulder could think about was Alex. But then, heartache and loneliness had been the connection between Ray and himself when they first met. He told the cop none of his own troubles over the phone—only heard why Ray needed him and agreed to fly to Chicago.

Mulder listened for Scully's movement in the adjoining room, but his partner had gone straight to sleep. He wished he could do the same. He was just glad he had been able to tell Scully that they would actually be welcomed in Chicago by police, that their presence had been requested.

He had spent the plane ride telling her about the last time he had worked with Ray.

"He's a competent police officer. When you first meet him, you'll think he's a loose canon, but actually he's a thorough investigator."

Scully smiled. "Sounds like someone I know."

Mulder grinned back. Then he laughed. "But he never steps foot inside the morgue."

Scully's eyebrow arched.

"Not if he can help it at least. Dead bodies make him edgy and a little nauseous."

"That's not unusual, Mulder. Most people don't like dead bodies."

"Yes, but for a detective, Ray is incredibly skittish around them," he joked.

"And you got along with him?" Scully teased.

"I call him a friend," he answered. But he did not tell her how Ray had served as his support group, Mulder's AA sponsor on the long drunken, tilted road of betrayed faith and empty promises. He was the one person who knew Mulder's big weakness, his addiction, and his self-defeating love for Alex Krycek.

And now Alex had lied to him. Again. Mulder still could not believe that he had trusted him. Again. So stupid. But the warm memories had come rushing back the moment he saw the pert nose and rueful grin exit the truck at the explosives raid.

They had spent hours on a plane together over the ocean. Time where Mulder could smell the gun oil taint of Alex's skin and feel the whispering, rumbling tease of his voice so close to his ear—it was torture, a mad play of furious notes on his psyche. Several days of switching buses and hitching rides where they were crammed together on a constant basis had eroded Mulder's cold anger. By the time they were in prison and huddled in their respective corners of the freezing cell, Mulder's resolve had completely crumbled.

The bittersweet recollection of those dark hours before dawn conflicted with the surety that Alex had been laughing at him the whole time. His passionate kisses and tenderly whispered endearments were a way to bring down Mulder's defenses. He was sure of it. Mulder's heart, his mind, his soul were left vulnerable. Then waking up the next morning to find himself strapped under wire, helpless to prevent the black alien oil from invading his body—terror struck like lightening, searing him deep.

Now, he was not sure which memory was stronger, which one kept him awake, as he lay exhausted on the hotel bed after the long flights and lay-overs from Mexico to Chicago.

Mulder looked at the file again. He knew the request from Ray to help on the case was purely professional. Ray was probably back together with his wife Stella, but maybe not. He only hoped that a private invitation was being extended as well.

xx

Ray Kowalski sat in an empty conference room of the 31st Precinct. They would need a quiet place to gather all the facts. This case was just becoming way too complicated for his liking.

Papers on top of papers with parts of photographs—snippets of the negatives developed into 8 x 10s—lay scattered across the battered surface of the table. Joe had tried to organize the mess yesterday, but Ray thought better when he could see the whole picture at once. Besides, Joe was down the hall talking to O.C., Organized Crime.

Seems Gold Skies Inc., a subsidiary of Atao Enterprises owned the storage facility that Ray and Joe had searched. Atao Enterprises was owned and operated by Daniel Chen. And the Chen family was suspected of running a highly lucrative drug business in Chicago.

Okay, so it's a long shot, but I had a feeling, a hunch. Perry in Vice sure is interested. Seems Chen's got plenty of contacts in Hong Kong with a hefty drug business over there too. Been trying ta bring the whole family down fer months, but no such luck. Perry knows the guy s'got his hands in skin flicks too, but none of that is in the States, so he don't track it.

Okay, so there's an arrested kidnapper messed up in kiddy porn starring some kids that are supposed to be dead, oh, but they don't look dead, and maybe even a connection to one of the most powerful mob families in Chicago?

It was too much. And Ray was glad he had called in help, but he hoped the Lieutenant was okay with him creating a team without any 'by your leave.'

I guess he'll make me pay fer it somehow. Still, think he'll be okay wid it. Once he sees what a mess I got here.

Geez. I hate waitin'.

Ray looked at his watch again. It had been a present from Stella three years ago. The scratched and battered face showed only two minutes had passed since the last time he had checked.

The worn leather band did not quite hide a dark, thumb-sized blotch on his wrist. Ray touched it lightly and suppressed a shiver. He trailed his fingers a bit higher to a hidden part of his forearm. There were no marks there this morning, but Ray clearly remembered the ghostly scrape of teeth and hot breath like a dragon coalesced from the forced air in the room. His hand moved further up and in to where a mark had been placed, near his left nipple. He hissed at the dull pain. It was sensitive even to the light touch through his clothes.

The room blurred, mixing with memory and Ray felt the stirrings of arousal. What the hell am I doing?!

Ray whipped his hand away and jumped to his feet. Damn! It's hot in here.

He shook his head and walked over to open the window. An icy blast of winter cleared his thoughts immediately. After a moment, he closed the window to a crack. Then he grabbed his Styrofoam cup off the desk and took a sip of the thick, lukewarm coffee.

He expected Detective Perry any minute. Down the hall, Joe and Perry's partner going through copies of Atoa Enterprises ledgers from an on-going case. Meanwhile, Perry had been tracking down any connection the Chens might have to the children. Ray had thought that was a wild goose chase, but then Perry had called and asked to meet here. And hey, it was Ray's hunch that got them started in the first place.

Just then, Ray heard the door open behind him. "Hey, Perry, 'bout time. Didjya find a connection?" Ray asked. He took another sip of coffee and looked up into the reflection of the room in the window.

Ray gasped and a splash of brown liquid leaped onto his hand like a nervous minnow.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," Mulder said.

Ray turned. "S'Okay. Just expected a tall, skinny black guy in street clothes, not a sharp-dressed, white-boy, Fed." Ray smiled.

Mulder smiled back and ducked his head. "Hi, Ray."

Damn, Mulder. You do look good. "Hey," Ray answered softly, "Thanks fer coming."

"Like I said, anytime you need me."

Ray nodded and carefully put his cup back on the table. "Things...good wid you? The same?"

Mulder grimaced and studiously looked at the desk between them. Its plain gray surface gave him no advice. "Yeah, pretty much the same. And how are you, Ray?"

Ray shrugged. "Stella and I are split up fer good this time."

Mulder raised his eyebrows.

"I got...divorce papers I gotta sign."

"I'm sorry, Ray. Do you want to talk... later? Dinner maybe?"

Hm. Do I? Would it just be talk?

Ray studied Mulder's face. Honest concern firmed Mulder's mouth and a trace of sadness flickered deep in his hazel-gray eyes. Mulder was being a friend, someone he could trust. "Yeah, okay. We can talk. You know, after...we're done here."

Mulder nodded. "You were expecting someone named Perry?"

Ray let out his breath. Shop talk. Good. Okay. That I can do. "Yeah. He's a cop in O.C. helping me wid the case."

The door opened again and a petite redhead in black suit-pants walked in. "Here you are, Mulder."

Ray noticed Mulder's expression perk up. "Scully. I'd like you to meet Detective Kowalski."

She smiled. "Detective, I've heard so much about you," she said as she extended her hand.

Perfect teeth. Hot. Guess Mulder does just wanna talk.

"Scully?" Ray said, "Yer the partner that went missing?"

Mulder nodded and shifted on his feet. Scully's smile suddenly looked forced. And Ray was sorry he had brought it up, but hey, that's all he knew about her. What else was he supposed to say?

Fall back, Kowalski. Be polite.

"Want some coffee?" he offered. "Tastes like motor oil, but it'll keep ya going."

Scully shook her head with a grateful smile. Mulder held up his hand in a 'no thanks' gesture. "We read the case file on the way here. Are there any new developments?" Mulder asked.

"Not much, but we got a possible connection of the film smuggler—that'd be Darren Quick—to a big-time mob family here in Chicago. My partner's working that angle. What I need your help with is figuring out how a couple kids that've been dead fer months end up on some film made a few weeks ago."

"Have the deaths been verified?" Scully asked.

Ray fished through the papers on the desk and handed her copies of death certificates and a few autopsy reports. "Accidents mostly. A couple of illnesses. First there was just one—Mary Skates. I tracked down her family in Germany and they told me about watching her die in the hospital bed. Geez. It was a rough deal. Anyway, then they gave me her grandmother's phone number who lives about twenty minutes from here. Talked ta her. Same sad story. Proud ta show me lots of pictures. One of 'em from a class trip. That's when I recognized the second kid—Brian Terrell. Third one, Toby Geller, was spotted by another detective who'd filled out the accident report on the car that killed him.

"And Brian Terrell? You've verified his death as well?" Scully asked as she opened the next file. Mulder pushed off the desk and circled behind Ray to pin school photos of each face up on the wallboard.

Ray nodded. "Boating accident. Kid drowned a month before Mary Skate's death."

Scully looked up from her perusal. "Maybe we should exhume the bodies to be certain."

Ray shook his head. "What? Dig 'em up? No way," he said and chopped his hand down for extra measure. "I talked to these families and each story is legit. They buried their kids and they are staying buried."

Ray felt a warm hand land on shoulder. "Don't worry, Ray. I don't think it's necessary," Mulder said from behind him.

Scully sighed and tilted her head. "What are you thinking of, Mulder?"

"Several possibilities come to mind. The only commonality being that they're all dead, correct?"

Scully turned to Ray. "Did Toby Geller attend the same school as the other two victims?"

"Nah. No connection there," he answered.

Mulder continued. "Okay then. Maybe we're looking at some sort of cloning experiment."

"For pornography? Maybe these are cases of twin separation with the twin being sold on the black market," Scully suggested.

"Plastic surgery?" Ray asked.

Mulder turned back from the wallboard. "But why only one of twins? What's the point? And plastic surgery would be too expensive to be worth it."

"Besides," Scully pointed out, "regardless of what the movie industry leads us to believe, making one person look exactly like another just isn't possible."

"I thought of all these options, but what I really think we're looking at is some sort of Lazarus effect."

Ray's brow crinkled. "A what?" he asked.

"Lazarus. Named after Lazarus in the New Testament who, according to John 11:43, was raised from the dead by Jesus Christ."

"Like 'Night of the Living Dead'? Zombies?"

"Well, it's worth checking the gravesites. But it's also possible that only their spirits have been brought back, or more likely, that their spirits were taken while they were still alive resulting in inevitable deaths."

"Wait," Ray held up his hand. "Are we talking homicide now?"

"Mulder, what would be the point?" Scully asked.

Mulder leaned over the desk and plucked out all the enlargements. Then he turned and pinned the corresponding photographs next to each child's portrait.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"Whaddya mean?" Ray replied.

"You see images. For the school portrait, we all know the child was present. For the film shot, we know the child was already dead and buried. So, how was the image made? I say, the image was taken before the film was used."

Ray's brows knit further. He always hated riddles, and Mulder sounded like he was speaking Swahili.

Scully interrupted with a question that at least told Ray she was reading the same page as Mulder. "And transferred onto the film later?"

"Or onto the, uh, actor...during the filming," Mulder concluded.

Ray plunked himself onto a metal folding chair and hunched forward, holding his head. "I give. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Glamors," Mulder answered.

Scully sighed. "Witchcraft, Mulder? You're talking about a myth cultivated in the thirteenth century to scare the common people away from pagan religions."

"Well, that is one way of looking at it. But, Scully, the belief that capturing an image of someone or something to gain power over that person is as old as the Stone Age. There are theories the purpose of animal cave paintings was to grant power to the hunter over the animal. Ancient Egyptians believed that painting the ideal afterlife on the walls of one's tomb would ensure peace beyond death. And when the camera was introduced to certain tribal cultures, they were wary, thinking that their soul would be stolen if their image was captured."

Ray lurched to his feet, paced to the door, and back again to face Mulder. Hands in his back pockets, he hunched forward to stare sharply into Mulder's slate gray eyes. Maybe if he looked hard enough, the answers would suddenly be written there. "Yeah, okay, that's real nice, and maybe you didn't notice, but these kids're dead before the pictures are taken!"

Mulder looked sullen.

Ray's eyebrow twitched. Kinda sexy. Jesus! Fuck! Stop that! Ray glanced sideways to Scully. She tapped an annoyed finger over her crossed arms, but by the defeated look in her eyes, Ray knew she had heard crazier theories.

Mulder's voice pulled him back to face forward. "I don't know how it's happening, Ray. I'm just saying that there's a possible connection between the myth and the facts so far."

Ray blinked. Then again. "Okay. So what now?"

Just then the door opened and Detective Perry strutted into the room. He was tall, a little over six feet and so lanky that everything he wore just draped off him, whether it was fashionable or not. As a kid, he was told that he was born to play basketball and he should concentrate on perfecting his game. That would get him through life. But Marcus Perry did not care for basketball and loved, of all things, history. His sports career never came to fruition, but being a cop was his dream come true.

Ray liked him. They both had an affinity with the kids hanging out downtown. Ray coached boxing at the local gym and Perry organized after-school games on the indoor court. They had never worked together before now, but Ray sometimes thought that if Perry had graduated a little sooner, then Ray might have stayed to work Vice instead of moving to the Major Crime Squad.

The guys in O.C. were cool, but hard, tougher than twenty-year cons—they had to be. And Ray had been looking to be a father. He did not need any more images of drug-overdosed teenage prostitutes to sing him to sleep. Being in Special Investigations, he had thought he would get to know the people that Stella was starting to hobnob with, even if he was only there to protect them. Well, he wasn't with Stella anymore, he was not going to be a father anytime soon, and Lieutenant Briggs had niched Ray into the Special Investigations Sex Crime Unit as soon as he saw how well Ray communicated with the victims. Comparatively the Organized Crime Unit had been cake.

Ray turned and smiled as Perry loped across the room and clasped Ray's hand. "Hey, my man Ray. Good ta see you."

"Hey, Perry. Thanks fer helping me wid this."

"Nah, thank you. I found a connection."

Ray perked up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, man, but uh..." Perry motioned to Mulder and Scully.

Ray jerked to attention and introduced everyone.

xx

As expected guests they were escorted through the rows of workers and steam presses to the back offices. One of his men stayed in the empty dirty hall. The other followed him inside and would stay beside him throughout the entire negotiation. Mr. Chizjik was pleased.

Chen's goons would keep their distance. Good. He deserved a little respect. He had earned it.

"Welcome, Mr. Chizjik." Daniel Chen rose out from behind his large, mahogany desk. The rest of the building was a dump, but Chen obviously liked to work in luxury. The office was small, but newly painted and richly furnished. A large fish tank stood along the left wall. An open door on the back right led into a well-lit room with a soft, dark brown leather couch. Mr. Chizjik could not see beyond that.

Chen's hand was warm and dry as he shook it. "It is a pleasure to finally meet with you, Mr. Chen. I am sure that our acquaintance will be mutually beneficial."

"Yes, I agree," Chen answered politely, but his greasy smile made Mr. Chizjik cold inside. Chen was of average height, but taller than Mr. Chizjik. His dark suit had obviously been tailored well to the young trim body. The man was in his early thirties—very young to be in charge of such a large organization, but it was a family business, and everyone assumed that Chen Senior was still behind the scenes somewhere.

Still, Daniel Chen was a powerful figure in the drug trade and he could make Mr. Chizjik a great deal of money, but he was also extremely dangerous. Which was to be expected, but those rumors...dark whispers of what had happened to Chen's enemies in the past, Mr. Chizjik took them very seriously. He still remembered his grandmother's advice well. She claimed to have gypsy blood in her veins and she had taught her grandson early on to respect the powerful forces that moved beyond this world. He slipped his hand into his pocket, and the cool, smooth beads of his rosary reassured him.

"Please have a seat," Chen gestured to the plush chairs before his desk. Mr. Chizjik noticed his man move to cover his back and still keep Chen's men in his line of sight. Chen's eyes flicked to the man and back to Chizjik. His smile had faltered, but only for a moment.

"I understand," Chen began, "that your business did not always center on heroin."

Mr. Chizjik paused before answering. Chen would know his history. They came here to discuss boundary lines and sharing territory. Maybe he would distribute Chen's product with a small cut for himself. What was this about extortion? That did not pay nearly as well.

"I am no longer in the business of 'protection,'" he answered.

"I understand, but I prefer working with flexible people. You have come to me because your supplier is less than reliable, and in turn, I have invited you here because one of my distributors is becoming untrustworthy."

Mr. Chizjik nodded. He had heard rumors that one of Chen's man, Lao, was getting a bit friendly with the police. Not one to let an opportunity go to waste, he had contacted Chen for this meeting.

Chen continued, "But his untrustworthiness is unfortunate. He could manage a variety of skilled people and difficult tasks."

"And you paid him well, I assume," Mr. Chizjik added. After all, he would work for no less.

"Yes, of course. Five percent."

"Seven percent would be better."

"Hmm." Chen smiled. The man did not like to be pushed, but Mr. Chizjik knew Chen would lose a lot more if he did not get a reliable manager to cover Old Town soon. "I would like a small job done first. Let us call it a test. And I want you to personally supervise the task."

Mr. Chizik's eyes narrowed, suspecting a trap. "What is the job?"

"As you might know, my business trade extends beyond heroin. I have some lucrative side projects that keep my contacts in Hong Kong very happy. Unfortunately, there is a police detective connecting me to some business wherein I would prefer to remain a silent partner."

"And you want him dead? I'm not a cop killer," Mr. Chizjik said.

Chen glanced over his head and back. Well, it was certainly possible his new man behind him could kill. He had that cold-eyed look about him.

"I don't want him dead. That would draw more attention—too much attention. Here." Chen handed Mr. Chizjik a folded piece of paper. "He is married—a pretty little blonde wife in a cozy, white house. Scare him. Make him think twice about his investigations."

Mr. Chizjik nodded. "That I can do."

"Good. When it is done to my satisfaction, then I'll contact you. We'll have dinner to discuss our future partnership." Chen extended his hand over the desk.

Mr. Chizjik shook it, nodded, and turned to leave. His man held the door for him.

"Oh, Mr. Chizjik?"

He turned back.

"When you go to visit Detective Kowalski's house, bring me back a photograph of him."

"What for?"

Chen smiled, but his cobra eyes showed only Mr. Chizjik's faint reflection. "I like mementos," he answered. One of Chen's men chuckled and spoke in Chinese. Chen's smile widened.

Mr. Chizjik slowly nodded and left, relieved to be flanked once again by his bodyguards.

xx

"So does Scully know yer going to dinner with me while she's down in the morgue doing the autopsy?"

Mulder looked behind as his companion followed through the Chinese restaurant door. "She already knows how you feel about dead bodies. Besides, this place is hardly four stars. And I told her I'd bring some General's Tao Chicken back."

"Hey, whaddya mean, 'how I feel about dead bodies'? I'm a cop. I can deal."

Mulder rolled his eyes as he slid into a red vinyl bench. They were handed menus and left alone for a moment. "Scully thought your queasiness was endearing," Mulder said. He was trying to lighten the mood. The unusual lack of frenzied emotion from Ray disturbed Mulder.

Ray had retreated into thought when Detective Perry told them of the connection he had found. Perry had been sitting at his desk, researching Chen's known accomplices and dealers, especially any who lived near the victims or the victim's schools—anything to further link the Chen family business to the investigation. One of Chen's major dealers had a recent police report identification number attached to his file—only two days old. Ray had the file pulled. The dealer's son went to school with both Mary Skates and Brian Terrell, and he had died the day after Toby Geller.

The dealer's son had technically died from heart failure, but the true cause was that the eight-year-old had tried inhaling oven cleaner with deadly results. The case would have been wrapped up already, but the dealer was insisting that the death was not accidental. A cop over at the 18th Precinct had contacted Homicide and confided that the dealer was his snitch and his family's life had indeed been threatened to increase his loyalty to the Chen family. Unfortunately there was no evidence to support the dealer's claim and so the case was being closed.

Perry had walked over to Homicide and requested the autopsy. Then he had called Ray to meet him at the station. When he finally met Mulder and Scully, he also requested a second autopsy under Scully's supervision.

Ray grunted. "Whaddya think she'll find?"

Mulder laid down his menu and looked into Ray's serious face. "Honestly? Nothing. She'll rule it an accident."

Ray slouched back into the bench seat. "Another freakin' accident...ya know it's times like this when I wish I had a cigarette."

"You smoked?" Mulder asked in surprise.

"Long time ago. Stella hated it though. Okay. So. Now we got another kid identified from the negatives."

"Another coincidental death," Mulder injected.

"Yeah. And—oh." The server momentarily interrupted Ray. She took their orders and brought them water. When she finally walked away, Ray continued. "So if this last kid has a connection to Chen, maybe the rest do too. We just gotta find it."

Mulder chewed on his lip. I hate being the doubter. "I don't think we'll find a connection there, Ray. I think that whatever is going on, Chen may have taken advantage of it some way, but I don't think the ultimate goal here was to scare his dealers."

Ray sighed and lowered his head into his hands. "Yer right. I'm just...I've been working too hard on this case. Let's talk about something else. Let's talk about you. I wanna hear about you. Tell me what's shakin'. I see Scully's not missing anymore. What about yer guy? What's his name? Alex. Ever see him again?"

Mulder's mouth fell open. Oh, god. No. Not yet. I'm not ready to talk about him yet. Well, that is, I am. But...I'm not. I... "Oh, I...I..."

Ray grabbed his arm. "Hey, geez. Sorry. That's a can a worms, isn't it?"

Mulder grimaced. "It's okay. Life has been...interesting. Scully mysteriously reappeared one day in a hospital bed. I'm still working the X-Files. My boss, Skinner is tolerating me. And Alex...I saw him again four months ago."

"What happened?" Ray pulled his hand back and Mulder followed it longingly with his eyes.

Christ. I'm needy. When did this happen? Mulder sighed and closed his eyes.

Being lonely was a lot easier to handle before...yeah, before.

"Mulder? Hey." Ray's voice was soft and the slim-fingered hand came back to caress his sleeve. "Fox?"

Mulder covered the hand with his own, holding it still. He looked up at Ray's face. Golden-brown stubble was starting to show along his jaw. His hair was bleached lighter now and the streetlight shining through the window behind him gave Ray a halo. Then the effect was ruined when Ray ducked his head a bit and looked down at the table.

He's embarrassed by my scrutiny.

The blue eyes lifted back up to him and Ray smiled.

"Are you seeing anyone, Ray?" Mulder asked.

Ray's smile widened. "Nice try, but you first. Tell me what happened."

"Damn." Mulder sighed. "What kind of guy wants to talk? Can't we just forget about real life and get naked for a while?" he asked wryly.

Ray laughed. "You make a tempting offer. How can I refuse?"

"Can you?" Mulder asked seriously.

Ray stopped laughing, and with his mouth still curled in a smile, he said, "I think you better tell me what happened before I get all involved."

Mulder nodded and pulled back from the table. The waitress arrived and served them their meals. Mulder took a moment to taste his soup. He noticed Ray starting to jitter with impatience, and so he put down his spoon and faced the inevitable.

"So much has happened to me since I last saw you, Ray. I...I don't even know where to begin," Mulder said as he shook his head.

"Okay," Ray said softly, "How about I ask the questions and you give answers."

Mulder smirked. "Like an interrogation?"

Ray shrugged. "That's what I do best."

"Okay. Fire away." Mulder took a deep breath and picked up his spoon again. But he was completely unprepared for Ray's insight.

"Do ya still love him?"

Mulder's breath stopped. What?? Love him? Ah, God. "Yes."

"Do ya still hate him?"

Mulder thought back over the betrayals—Scully's disappearance, his father's death, the theft of the disk, and Tunguska. Just thinking about that place hurts. All that he's done to me, and he was still able to make me forget.

"Yer takin' a long time ta answer that," Ray said around a mouthful of noodles.

"Because I'm confused as to what to feel."

"He still wanted by the F.B.I. in that investigation, the one with the sky hill and the guy who thought aliens took him?"

"Duane Barry and Skyland Mountain. Yes, we still don't know who killed the tram operator."

"You still think Alex did?"

"I know he's capable of it. I know he's killed others even though I can't prove it."

"You know? Who else did he kill then?"

"My father."

Ray stopped eating and looked slowly up into Mulder's flat stare. But Mulder was looking back at the scene in his head. His father lay on the white bathroom tile, blood pooling beneath his shoulders. The contrast of dark red and stark white was mesmerizing. Numbness set in, starting with his bare feet on that cold, cold floor. The room stretched and pulled, twisting like a reflection in a fun house mirror.

"Fox." Ray's voice pulled him from his memory.

"I saw him later that night, Alex I mean. He was at my apartment, coming to do what, I don't know. I hated him then, though. I would have killed him that night, but Scully stopped me and he got away."

"Why do you think he killed yer dad?"

"A feeling. I accused him to his face and he's never denied it. He could have. He's certainly lied to me before... and since then."

Ray nodded. "Maybe he couldn't about that though."

"Maybe." Mulder gestured to the food. "It's good."

Ray smiled. "My own special find. I'm an expert on takeout food groups. So, when was yer dad's death?"

"About a year ago. The next time I saw Alex, he was in Hong Kong." Mulder continued to tell Ray about the disk and the black oil as they resumed eating. The detective kept mostly quiet throughout Mulder's story, but Mulder could see Ray's thoughts clearly in the troubled blue eyes.

He doesn't believe me. Or rather, he believes that I believe. This is all just too far-fetched for him.

But as Mulder began to tell Ray of his encounter with Alex just a few months ago, then the cop's face cleared of doubt. "So did they really have explosives?" Ray asked.

Mulder nodded. "Plenty of illegal artillery too. They would've gone undetected, if Alex hadn't played secret informer."

"Okay, so how'd he get away? Isn't he wanted fer smuggling too?"

"No. We never charged him."

"What?" Ray asked incredulously. He set down his fork and wiped his mouth with the napkin before crumbling it into a ball to the side of his plate.

"We knew from a past experience that putting him in jail would just make him a cornered target. He wouldn't survive a day. So I brought him to Skinner's apartment—my boss."

"And yer boss was cool wid all this?"

Mulder grimaced. "Not really, but he understood our concerns. He took Alex until the next morning. By then I had tickets to Moscow and way to take us where Alex said we would find the answers about the black oil."

"So you and Scully went there?"

"No, Alex and I went."

Ray held up his hand in a 'stop' gesture. "That's trouble right there."

Mulder smiled. "You have no idea. I thought I hated him so much that I could forget what we once were."

"You fucked around, didn't you?"

Mulder sighed. He could not look at Ray's piercing eyes. He could not face the accusation he could hear in Ray's voice.

"What happened?"

"I...We found a...testing facility, but we were captured. They threw us in one of the cells together. I...it was cold and dark and I was scared...he was scared too. I could see it. And we...it just happened. I looked in his eyes...and I saw, I saw the person that I used to love. I saw the man that I still loved, and I trusted him. I did." Mulder's voice trailed to a whisper.

He glanced up at Ray who looked decidedly uncomfortable. His thin fingers twitched as if he wanted to comfort Mulder, hold his hand, pat his arm, something, but he held back. Ray flicked his eyes about the room, and Mulder realized that his emotion was too much for Ray to handle.

He pulled back from the sharp edge of pain in his heart and sought focus in the anger of Alex's betrayal. "The next day, Alex was gone and I was taken to be used in an experiment with the black oil."

Ray leaned forward in alarm.

"No, no. I'm okay now. But afterwards, the next day, I saw Alex again. He was standing, free of chains, chatting with the enemy like they were the best of friends. I..." Mulder shook his head. "I was so angry. I had a makeshift knife one of the other prisoners had given me, and I just...it all happened so fast. I knocked Alex into a pickup truck and drove away."

"That's how you got away? What, were those guards sleepin'?" Ray asked with disgust.

Mulder chuckled. "I don't know. They came after us on horseback, but I was way ahead. Alex must have jumped, because when I crashed the truck, he was gone. A local man and wife helped me escape from the area itself."

"So what ya think he was doing, huh?"

Mulder was silent. It almost seemed to him like there were two Alexes. One was his partner that looked out for him, that supported his theories and beliefs. He was the guy that played a mean game of one-on-one basketball and watched the hockey games faithfully. Mulder remembered the tenderness in his hands, the desire in his dark, heavy eyes, and the wild feel of his perfectly sharp teeth and wet tongue on his skin.

And then there was the Alex that Mulder knew so little about. The one who skulked around corners gripping a well-oiled gun; the man in black leather, melding with the shadows; the cold-eyed bastard that laughed while Mulder staggered in chains.

He found it difficult to reconcile them all as one person. And which one had been there the day Ray was rescued two years ago? If that was even Alex at all.

The server came back and cleaned the plates from their table. Mulder watched her busy little hands, glad for the reprieve of answering Ray's question. She finally bustled away, leaving the bill behind. Ray grabbed it. "My treat," he said.

Mulder grinned. "Thanks."

Ray shrugged. "So you think he escaped too, or maybe ya think he didn't need escaping?"

"I know he didn't plan on being there, so I imagine he left. He would have needed help though." Mulder laughed and shook his head sadly.

"What?" Ray asked.

"I wonder if he got the same offer of help I did at first."

Ray's brow furrowed and he jerked his head.

"The couple that helped me escape, first tried to take off my left arm. Their explanation? 'No arm, no test.' All the locals in the area had cut off their left arms—from about here." He gestured to his own, mid-bicep. "—In order to escape the experiments."

"Holy crap," Ray said in awe. His gaze wandered away then darted back to his billfold as Mulder stood and slipped on his coat.

"So Ray, you never answered my question. Are you seeing anyone?"

Ray froze.

Wow. Talk about a deer in headlights. Mulder grinned. Then the strangest look came over Ray's face. He seemed to be staring very intently to just beyond Mulder's right shoulder. Mulder turned, but he saw nothing unusual. "Ray, are you alright?" he asked lightly.

Ray blinked and finally looked at him. "Mulder, you got a picture of Alex?"

A picture of Alex? What for? "Uh, no. Why?"

"What does he look like?"

Maybe he's remembering. Maybe my being here is giving him flashbacks to the kidnapping. "Ray, do you feel dizzy?"

"Huh? NO! Come on, Mulder. What did he look like?"

Okay, he's getting agitated. So I'll calm him down and then maybe he'll talk about it. I wonder if he ever went to therapy like he promised. "He's tall, about my height. 180 pounds? Brown hair, green eyes, snub nose, um, no distinguishing marks that I can remember," he joked.

Ray's eyes unfocused again. Mulder reached out and felt a tremble in the wiry arm. "Hey, hey, let's step outside, Ray, " Mulder suggested softly. "I think we need a little privacy to talk."

Ray licked his lips nervously, but nodded.

It was raining outside, a mix of fat, slushy snowflakes and pelting raindrops. Mulder hustled Ray over to the car and they both clambered inside. Ray huddled in the passenger seat, blonde hair darkened by the wet, and plastered to his head. He stared out the windshield with his hands caught between his knees.

Mulder plucked one cold, bony hand out of Ray's lap and held it. "I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't mean to bring it up so soon."

Ray's eyes squinted.

I'm not being very clear, am I? One thing I really like about you, Ray is that you're such a straightforward thinker—no hidden agendas.

"You did talk to someone, didn't you, Ray? About what happened?"

xx

Ray continued to stare out the window. What is he talking about? Quick, quick, cause we don't want him figuring out what we're really thinking, do we? Oh, no. Not that.

"Scully's gonna be pissed. Her food's gettin' cold, there," Ray answered.

Mulder frowned, but he released Ray and turned in his seat to start the car. They drove in silence on the way back to the precinct, but Ray's mind was playing over their conversation in the restaurant.

They cut their arms off. Right about there. And that couldn't a been too neat. Nah, woulda been real messy, left a big ugly scar. And he's tall. Six-one, Six-two, somethin' like that. Brown hair, green eyes, snub nose. Sounds familiar. Sounds real familiar, don't it Ray? Yeah, it does.

So what does that mean then? Cause you know Mulder's boyfriend knows what you look like. Don't think he'd forget the face of the guy fuckin' his ex-lover. Nope. You know that wouldn't happen. So what's it mean? Come on, come on, you know what it means.

Maybe it isn't him. I mean, there's got ta be lotsa tall, dark haired, green-eyed, small-nosed, one-armed guys, right? And they both might speak Russian, right? Cause you know those words Rick, excuse me, Alex, spits out when he's fucking you so hard you can't even see straight, you know that's Russian. Yup. So that could be a coincidence, right? Fuck. Ray bit his lip and glanced at Mulder. The agent was obviously deep in thought too.

Ray sat up straight in alarm. He can't know, can he?

Mulder turned a quizzical eye on him. Ray relaxed. No. He doesn't. And he's not going to, either. Okay, so no talking about Ri- Alex. Okay.

Ray glanced to the side again. Mulder looked very serious. What is he thinking about? What was he saying before? Something about...oh. Shit. I do not want ta talk about that! Happened two years ago. No need ta discuss things ta death!

But Ray, you haven't talked to anybody about it. Oh, yeah, Stella, Joe, the lieutenant, the department shrink, they know all about you getting snatched and stowed away in that psycho's truck. They know he kicked ya around some. Maybe the shrink even figured out that Terrence Banks did a little more intimate touching. But they don't know it all. They don't know the half of it, 'cept maybe Stella. Maybe she guessed a little. And Mulder.

Mulder fucking knows, put two and two and six together. That FBI brain of his figured you out, Kowalski.

Okay, so can't talk about my love life, sex life, whatever. Already talked about his. No way, do not want to talk about...about that. he's as up-ta-date as I am about anything new in the case. So then what? Maybe I can just ditch him. Yeah. That would work.

No, that's a suck-ass thing ta do. He's doing a favor fer me. Helping me. Still, maybe him and Scully have stuff ta discuss. Yeah. They're partners. Partners always stick together, always wanna be around each other, that's the way it is.

Ray thought briefly about Joe. He had not seen, really seen, his partner in more than two days. Actually, they barely spoke these days, unless it was about a case. Ray blamed himself, and he was only too glad when they pulled up in front of the station before he had a chance to twist himself up in knots about Joe.

Scully looked tired, but grateful for the orange-coated chicken pieces and broccoli. Mulder was right, she ruled the death to be accidental. They were no closer to solving the case.

Ray took a quick trip upstairs to see Lieutenant Briggs. His superior was unimpressed with his progress on the case.

"It's a dead end, Kowalski. You're wasting time better spent on other cases. And now you've got Vice involved? Halpern is very unhappy his guys are gettin' involved with a sex crime. There's no viable connection."

"No, see, there is," Ray argued, "We just haven't got it yet. But, Leu, ya gotta cut me some slack. Chen covers his tracks well. But if we can crack this case, then we'll be puttin' a lota drug dealers out of business. Plus the photos, I mean, they're just kids, how can we let that go?"

Briggs sighed heavily. Kowalski was a good cop, but sometimes a little too determined. "I want an up-to-date report on my desk tomorrow. Then I'll review it again, before I decide."

Ray smiled. "Thanks, Leu."

"Oh, Kowalski, who's the red-head down in the morgue?"

Ray paused with the door office door open. "Scully? Oh. Um. FBI," Ray answered before he quickly scooted out the door and down the hall before his Lieutenant could respond.

Mulder and Scully were still in the conference room when Ray returned, half of the case file tucked under his arm. They were leaning close together talking softly, but Scully quickly stood up and moved away as Ray entered the room. Mulder smiled sheepishly at him.

So there is somethin' going on between you two, huh? But Ray said nothing until Scully made some excuse about talking with Perry and scurried out of the room.

"You and Scully, are real close, aren't ya?" Ray asked. He felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought. Hey, but don't you worry, Ray. Yer the one screwing the Russian.

"Yes," Mulder answered as he stood, "She's my best friend. I trust her with my life."

Okaaaay. "So what's the deal? You and her, uh, you know."

That got Mulder's attention. "Scully?" he laughed. "No. No way." He paused mid-laugh and cocked his head. "Oh. Oh! You thought—" Then Mulder started laughing even harder. "No, Ray. I was just telling her about you, us. I hadn't before, because, well....Listen, I just didn't want her thinking that you and I were discussing the case without her, if we wanted some time alone. Did I read things wrong?"

Huh? Oh. "Uh, no. I mean, it's cool." He wants ta get busy? Where did this come from? Sure, he was flirting at dinner, but then he was all analyzing my past and shit. How am I gonna do this? Do I wanna do this?

"Ray, if I'm wrong, it's okay. I understand that you're still dealing with your experience with Banks." Mulder continued on with his psychological talk, but Ray tuned him out.

Not this again. No way. Nuh-uh. Ray dropped his file onto the table and stalked over to stop Mulder's words with a desperate kiss. Ray felt the agent's surprise, but a moment later the man melted in his embrace.

Mmmmm. Somebody is lonely for affection. Ray just hoped Scully did not plan on walking back in too soon. It was one thing for her to know about them, but quite another to see them with her partner's tongue down his throat.

Ray pulled his head back from the kiss slowly. Wow. Look at that mouth, red, wet, mmm. Ray held Mulder's head and licked the agent's moist lips.

Mulder moaned low in his throat. "Ray," he croaked.

Ray moved in closer, rubbing his whole body against the taller man like a cat in heat. Hard already, Fox? Oh, yeah, you want it bad. You need it. How long's it been?

Ray gloried in the hot panting at his ear as he licked his way around Mulder's neck. He heard his name a few times more and even a suggestion to leave, but it was the need, the pleading and helpless begging tone in Mulder's voice that thrilled Ray. He had power here. Control. And he had not felt that in a long, long time. It felt good. Like eating crackers and water all week and then suddenly tasting lasagna and red wine.

"Let's go, Ray. I want you to fuck me," Mulder whispered.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. No. He'll see. Shit!

"What's wrong?" Mulder asked fuzzily from his shirt collar.

"Nothin'"

I got some hand-shaped bruises you would just love. Oh, and the teeth marks, those are real pretty. Not ta mention they're shaped like yer ex's bite, .

"We can't go. I gotta meet St-Stella soon," Ray lied.

Mulder groaned in frustration. Ray kissed him again, a soft, luscious apology that only made Mulder hold him tighter. Ray felt the long-fingered hands on his ass, kneading and lifting him onto his toes. He moaned into the kiss.

Fuck it! Scully just better not come back yet. Nobody better or they're gonna get an eyeful.

"Let's break some taboos, Fox," he whispered in the agent's ear.

Ray felt Mulder smile against his face. He nuzzled into the agent's ear and licked it. "Suck me," he whispered.

Mulder gasped and hesitated.

"Now," he added.

Mulder dropped to his knees like a peasant before the king. And Ray felt a rush of giddy pleasure. Is this what Ri—Alex feels? This is great, greatness, fuckin' fantabulous. This is— oh, yeahhh.

Mulder mouthed his cock through his jeans while one dexterous hand unbuckled his belt and worked on opening his fly. Ray could see the other mans' hand was down between his own legs, rubbing his crotch through his suit-pants. Suddenly, Mulder's wet mouth was on his cock, licking and sucking, staring at the base while his nose rubbed into the golden brown pubic hair. The nose tickled, but his mouth, oh, his mouth was like molten lava making his balls ache and his toes tingle.

Ray bit down on his own right hand and cupped Mulder's head with his left. It was not long before Mulder took his whole length into his mouth. Ray bucked and Mulder moaned louder, then urged Ray on with an insistent hand on Ray's hip.

You want it? Okay, me too. You got it. Ray slipped his other hand down to grasp Mulder's hair. Then he thrust fullbore into Mulder's mouth. Mulder's moans, keeping time with the short, hot puffs of air Ray felt on his groin, sounded overly loud in the empty conference room. Ray could feel him swallowing and he stifled a shout. Mulder gripped his hip harder, and Ray could feel where his hand overlapped bruises made only just the night before.

"Ah, shit. Yeah. Perfect," Ray panted, "Yer perfect." Then he shuddered and gripped Mulder closer, forcing his fluid down the agent's throat. Mulder gagged just as Ray's hands relaxed releasing the silky brown strands from his grip. Mulder coughed and choked, and Ray suddenly wondered if he had been too rough. But then Mulder looked up at him, his eyes shining brightly and his mouth stretched wide in a big smile. Ray knelt down and licked the come from his lips and chin.

"That was incredible, Ray," Mulder said with a throaty voice.

Ray chuckled. "Shouldn't I be sayin' that?"

Mulder smiled as they stood, and he fondled Ray briefly before tucking away the spent penis.

"How long will you meet with Stella?" Mulder asked.

Ray turned away and pretended to straighten the files on the table. "Uh, don't know. Probably til late."

"I'd like to take the case file back to my room with me. Is that okay?"

Ray nodded. "Yeah, I won't get a chance ta look at it." Not if Rick and I have a good long talk, and who knows how long that will last?

Ray turned back around to see Mulder watching him speculatively. He knows somethin's up.

Ray flashed his most disarming smile. "Not like I'm puttin' ya off or nothin'. Don't think I really could if I had a choice." Ray let his eyes travel up and down Mulder's body suggestively.

Mulder grinned. "You can call me, stop by. I'm an insomniac, remember?"

Ray chuckled. "Yer insatiable. That's what I remember."

Mulder laughed as he gathered all the case materials together. Ray turned to the door that was still open a crack from Scully's departure. Good thing we're downstairs and it's night. Hope Scully didn't ferget nothin'.

He closed the door behind them. And fishing for his keys, he followed Mulder to the stairs.

A moment later, Joe stepped back into the hallway, watching his partner and the FBI agent disappear into the stairwell. His face was frozen in shock, disgust, and anger.

xx

Twenty minutes later, Ray sat in his car, parked in the underground lot and prepared to visit his lover—uninvited.

He's gonna be pissed. You know he does not like surprises. Unless they're the naked, I'm-so-hot-fer-you-I-can't-help-it kind. He likes those.

So, okay, he might have a gun.

Ray sighed.

He has a gun. Ya haven't seen it, but hey, ya have seen the big, sharp knife, so let's assume he's got a gun too. So, sneakin' in and scarin' him half ta death, will definitely get yer head blown off. Okay, so, ring the bell. Wait fer him ta answer. Ok, good.

First decision made, Ray sprang from the car, slammed the door, and hurried to the elevator.

Dressed or undressed? The elevator stopped and the doors opened to Alex's floor.

Hm. Can't stand naked in the hallway. Maybe stayin' dressed is better anyway. Safer. Kinda. Not really. Safer would be ta stay away, far away. But, hey, playin' it safe just isn't my style.

Ray caught the closing elevator doors with his hand and stepped out into the long hallway. Alex rented the second apartment on the right. Ray pushed the button beneath the peephole. He heard nothing.

He knocked. What? He's not even home, now?

Suddenly, the door swung open. Alex held a gun leveled at his face. "You weren't invited tonight," he growled.

Ray shrugged. "I'm undisciplined. Yer fault." He grinned.

Alex lowered the gun and stepped aside. Ray felt the hair raise along his arms as he walked past into the lion's den. Keep it light fer now. Just keep it light.

"Didn't interrupt nothing, right?" Ray asked with a smile as he looked Alex over. Mmmm. Bare chest, bare feet, black button-fly jeans hiding a semi.

Alex closed the door, giving Ray a full view of tightly hugged buttocks. Ah, jeez. This is not gonna be easy. Sorry, Mulder.

Alex turned and stalked into Ray's space. Ray was forced backwards until he bumped into the far wall. His crotch was grabbed and massaged. Ohhh, not easy at all. Ray moaned and leaned into the touch, letting his shoulders take more of his weight. He felt Alex's good hand fumble at his belt while the gloved one kept the pressure on his groin. Ray took a deep breath.

"We gotta talk first," Ray wheezed.

"Later," Alex answered as he wedged his knee between Ray's legs. His hair tickled Ray's jaw, but the expected kiss, nip, lick, whatever on his neck did not happen. Alex was suddenly very still.

What? What is it? Is he...smelling me?

"Who were you with, Ray?" Alex's velvet-scratched voice reverberated through the skin at Ray's throat.

Huh? Oh. Uh... "Nobody," he answered quickly.

Alex's dark chuckle started a tingling on the back of Ray's neck and he felt the faint brush of his lover's sharp white teeth. "Don't lie to me," Alex whispered, "I smell a man's cologne on your skin—one you don't wear."

Don't shake. He doesn't know yet. Just...tell a little bit of the truth.

"You're trembling, Ray. Did you let someone fuck you? Did you let someone, who wasn't me, fuck this tight, little ass?"

Ray was forced up on tiptoe as Alex cupped his behind and dug in his fingers just behind his balls. "No," Ray answered as he shook his head fervently. He was released back to his heels. Then Alex's fingertips were in his mouth.

"Maybe you sucked his cock instead?" Alex challenged. Ray closed his eyes against the piercing green glare and shook his head again. "No. No. No, I didn't," he mumbled around the fingers.

"I don't believe you," Alex whispered.

Then he took Ray's hand and wrenched him bodily around the corner and into the living room. Ray stumbled to keep up with the sudden movement. He opened his eyes to a fire crackling in the fireplace. The television was on with the sound turned all the way down. All the lights were off.

They hurried by the big, cushy, brown couch where Alex must have been sitting. Ray flashed back to the night Alex had taught him about spanking. The soft nap of that couch had felt so soothing to his reddened skin, and he had fallen asleep there for hours.

There was a waist-high table off to his right against the wall by the doorway to the kitchen. Ahead of them were the mirrored wall and a spiral metal staircase that led to the bedroom above.

As they reached the staircase, Alex stopped and turned. They were the same height, but with Alex looming down at him from the first step, Ray felt infinitely smaller. "Take your clothes off," Alex commanded.

Ray's conditioning over the past few weeks compelled him to obey. He let his jacket and gloves fall to the floor like Alex preferred. He would have dropped his holster as well, but Alex reached for it. Ray's heart skipped and jumped as he handed over his weapon.

Stupid, stupid, you are so stupid, Ray. He felt Alex's eyes inspecting him as he finished disrobing.

"Turn around."

Ray hastened to obey. Jeez, pushy tonight. "Did I catch ya at a bad time?" he asked nervously.

"Bend over," Alex ordered.

Ray grabbed his ankles. His new view between his legs made him shiver—Alex stood at the perfect distance and height for a kick to Ray's backside. Thank you God fer him bein' barefoot. Those big boots he's always wearin' woulda really hurt!

"Tell me."

No backing out now, Kowalski. Tell him a lie and you'll get kicked. So, tell him the truth. Okay, well, half the truth.

"He offered, I wanted. So I let him blow me. He wanted to do more, but I figured that was yer territory. Ya got me decorated wid yer fingerprints. I figured as long as he was giving and I didn't do any touching then it was okay."

Ray glared up between his legs. He could not see Alex's face.

"Who was he?"

"Does it matter?" Ray countered.

Alex chuckled. "No. I guess not."

A sigh of relief escaped him as Alex turned and walked up the stairs. "Follow me, Ray. All fours."

Damn. Ray suppressed a sigh of irritation. The stairs were metal with raised ridges that left painful red marks on his bony knees. Usually the discomfort was balanced by the pleasure of knowing his lover was right behind him admiring the sway-hip view.

Just do what yer told, Ray. Don't wanna piss him off before you really piss him off.

Ray endured the ungainly climb. As he reached the top, Alex was waiting with a wet cloth. "Kneel up," he said.

His genitals were brusquely washed. Ray kept his hands at his sides and waited through the quick and rough treatment. Suddenly his hair was seized and Ray gasped at the sharp pain. His scalp burned as Alex forced his head back and Ray looked up into a steady gaze.

"Don't ever come here with somebody else's smell on you again," he said, his voice very low, the threat loud and clear. "Did you even brush your teeth or do you still have the taste of his tongue in your mouth?"

Ray gulped. He had not. Looking disgusted, Alex released his hair and strolled off into the bedroom. Ray followed meekly on his hands and knees, grateful to now be on soft carpeting. When he reached the doorway, he stopped. They really needed to talk now. If he waited until later, Alex would be less volatile, but Ray guessed that the man would be more vulnerable too. He did not think he could be so devious to this man who had taken him to so many levels already.

Besides, I'm an honest guy. Be up front. You give the truth, you get the truth. Dat's how relationships work.

Oh, and your relationships have gone so well, haven't they Ray?

Shut up.

"We gotta talk," Ray said, and he winced at the cliche-sounding phrase.

Alex turned from where he stood at the foot of the bed. A wry smile graced his lips. "Are you breaking up with me, Ray?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I just want things ta be honest between us, ta be clean."

"Another confession?" Alex asked. His mouth quirked into a smile, but his eyes held an equal measure of curiosity and violence.

Ray stood. He felt he needed to be seen as an equal now. Alex's smile disappeared.

"I got somethin' ta say, but I think the confession is yours," Ray said as he walked closer.

Alex narrowed his eyes. "I've never lied to you, Ray."

"Well, ya never tell me anything. And dat's okay. I'm cool wid that. Ya got yer secrets. But ya did lie ta me. Pretty big lie." They stood by the bed, eye to eye. Ray stared him down like he did to suspects during interrogation.

Alex did not move. "What's that?"

Ray ran his tongue behind his teeth. Tough bastard. "You gonna tell me yer real name now?"

Alex pulled his head back. Then he relaxed. "No," he replied evenly.

"Why?"

"Safety reasons."

"Safety? I don't need it. I'm with you cause yer dangerous, cause you could hurt me anytime, and I know ya got no qualms about doin' just that. So why do I need security?"

"Not for you. For me."

"Come on. Come on. Like I couldn't pick ya out in a line-up? This is a dead give-away," Ray said as he gripped the prosthetic arm and shook it. He looked up from his grip on the plastic and into a pair of very cold green eyes.

Uh-oh.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean ta piss ya off. You don't gotta tell me yer name. I know it now anyways. I figured it out."

The green eyes narrowed to slits. Ray swallowed nervously. "I spoke ta Mulder. I know yer Alex," he whispered.

Suddenly Alex straightened and swiftly turned away. He paced across the room, pivoted, and paced back to the bed. A quick, laser-like glance showed the anger seething in Alex's eyes, and Ray knew he had made a terrible mistake. Alex marched away again. He pivoted again and in a whirl, he had his gun drawn from the holster on the dresser. Ray's own gun. Traceable only back to Ray. Three steps and the gun was pressed to Ray's forehead.

Oh shit, oh shit! What do I do? Oh fuck! Naked with a hole in my head—that's how they'll find me. And from my own gun!

The barrel pushed harder and Ray was forced to lean back into the bed, to lay down flat, and pray that Alex would be appeased with his submission. The gun traveled down and rested into his left eye socket.

Shit! This is it. He's gonna do it. Yer dead, Kowalski.

A warm chuckle from above made his stomach sink.

"Do you always get hard when you're about to have your brains blown out, Ray?"

Ray opened his one eye. He still saw anger in the glittering gaze above him, but there was a twinkle of humor as well. Ray licked his dry lips with a drier tongue.

"Only wid you. Ya taught me all about diggin' the pain and ya taught me to be scared of you. To like bein' scared of you. It's a natural response now. I'm like one of those dogs with the bells and the drool. I'm yer dog, Alex."

The pressure of the gun into his eye eased, and Alex trailed the weapon down his cheek, the cold muzzle caressing his face.

"I like that, Ray." Alex smiled, but Ray knew he was not safe yet—not with a loaded gun so close. He could see Alex's finger still on the trigger and the safety was definitely off.

The gun moved to kiss his lips. Wary of hitting his teeth and startling either of them, Ray opened his mouth and lightly licked the hard metal. He risked a glance up into Alex's face, and saw the man's arousal in his darkened eyes.

Good. Yeah. Come on. Stay interested. I'm too tasty ta kill. Come on. Come on.

Ray opened his mouth further and sucked the end of the barrel into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned low in his throat. Suddenly the gun was wrenched free. Ray opened his eyes just in time to see the safety clicked back on and the weapon hurled across the room. Then Alex was upon him, pinning Ray's arms to the bed with his knees. His button fly was ripped open and Alex plunged his cock into Ray's mouth.

Ray almost choked, but he quickly accommodated. Alex had been rough before. Ray liked it that way. Hell, any way is good. It's always good wid this guy. Just hope he doesn't kill me afterward.

Alex leaned on his elbows, the prosthetic arm bending easily, and he ruthlessly pumped his cock down Ray's throat. Ray could barely breathe and every breath was filled with his wild lover's scent. Ray reached his arms around and grabbed Alex's ass hard, urging him to fuck his mouth harder. The bed squeaked in time to Alex's grunts, and Ray felt a little dizzy as his head was repeatedly slammed into the mattress.

Ray was so hard, but thrusting into the air brought no relief. Suddenly his mouth was filled with salt and wet. He swallowed as best he could, closing his eyes in concentration.

Then Alex pulled out. Ray winced as his arms were released and blood rushed to hands. His fingers felt numb, but he knew the 'pins and needles' would start any moment. His mouth and chin were wet and he felt a drip slowly roll down his chin to his neck. He opened his eyes to see Alex kneeling above him.

He felt warm fingers brushing his hair. Then he closed his eyes as his nose was traced with a gentle touch. Alex scooted down beside him and started washing his face with his tongue like a cat. Ray acquiesced to the attention, although he fervently hoped that warm wet tongue would travel much lower.

xx

Look at him lying there. I guess that's what Ray Kowalski looks like dead. Except if I had pulled the trigger, then he would have a big, gory, gaping hole in the back of his head. His gold hair would be drying flat, crusted brown with blood and splinters of bone. My sheets—the altar of another sacrifice. Another body to dispose of.

His fingers whispered through Ray's blonde hair.

It looks better lightened. Good boy. Did that to please me, didn't you? So soft.

His fingertips grazed along his lover's warm cheek. Ray grunted in his sleep as his mouth was gently traced.

I hope I never hurt you Ray.

Alex scooted down onto the mattress and pressed up against his lover's curled body.

"I'll never really hurt you, Ray," he whispered.

But this is the last time we can be together. You're a cop and if Mulder hasn't told you all about me yet, then he will soon. So I took you to the edge tonight—blurred reality and fantasy for you. Was it what you needed, what you wanted? Maybe what we both needed?

Alex slipped his arm around Ray's body, laying his hand over Ray's heart.

I think we're fooling ourselves. We both think we need these games, but the truth is that no matter how much control I have, what really matters is that you wanted me. Just me. Even if you didn't really know the real me. And I helped you forget who you are, if only for a little while. But now Mulder's here, and neither of us can hide anymore.

Alex snuggled closer and kissed the smooth warm flesh of Ray's neck.

"I'm sorry, Ray. I'm sorry I dragged you into my fucked-up life."

You didn't deserve it. You're fucked-up enough as it is.

As if his thoughts conjured the dreams, Alex felt Ray start to move in his sleep. The wiry blonde whimpered and squirmed. Alex leaned up on his prosthetic to look into Ray's face.

His mouth was slack and panting, his lips pale even against the toothpaste complexion of his face. The pale lashes fluttered and sweat formed on his brow, but Ray was cool to the touch. Alex had witnessed his vibrant and courageous lover unconsciously frightened by his dark dreams before. Soon the whimpers would turn to pleading, and sometimes to screaming. It happened almost every night.

Another lover would have been scared of Ray's nightmares. Alex identified with them. he thought it was a toss-up as to whose dreams were more terrifying.

Alex cupped his hand to Ray's face and leaned down to lightly kiss his flushed cheek. "Shh...it's okay, Ray. You're safe here," he whispered. The worry lines on Ray's forehead smoothed out and Alex felt envy at how easily Ray was comforted.

His own nightmares usually arrived when he was alone. But one night Ray had stayed late—too exhausted to move.

Alex remembered looking over his shoulder with satisfaction at the cop sleeping naked on his couch. They had broken boundries that night and Alex had felt a twist of regret that he wasn't letting himself curl up with Ray in front of the low fire. Instead, he had climbed the iron staircase, shucked his pants, and slipped into bed naked.

He could still recall the confusion and fear that made his heart pound and his head spin. Ray had shaken him awake—his blue eyes wide and frightened. "Rick! Rick! Jesus Christ, Rick!" The cold tile of the bathrooom against his back was both soothing and disturbing. The use of his alias had only further confused him, but eventually he had managed to focus on Ray's voice and calm himself enough to think rationally.

"I'm okay, Ray. It's okay," he had said, but he had not felt okay. Ray had collapsed into his arms and held tight, leaving marks on Alex's ribs. Who had comforted who? Alex still was not certain. Ray had never told him any details of what happened and he never mentioned the incident again.

Though even now, he could not recall the dream itself, but he knew his time trapped in the dark, silent silo was part of it. He knew that the bruise Ray sported on his left cheek the next day must have been caused by him. And he knew that Ray had seen him at his most vulnerable. And he did not hurt Alex, he did not take advantage. Who knew what Ray had learned while Alex's subconcience reined? Ray had only held him, there on the cold floor. Then they got up and went to Alex's bed together. Ray had slept in Alex's arms that night and every night since that that Ray came to his door.

Alex looked down fondly at his lover. Ray's presence had kept the demons in Alex's head at bay. He smiled grimly, knowing tonight he would sleep well again, but this night would be the last.

xx

His patron held another photograph. The artist reached out and took the gift from Daniel Chen's silky, long-fingered hand. He frowned. The subject was older again.

"What's wrong?"

The artist looked up. His patron was alone tonight. Lui Chen had stayed in the front room. The artist shifted his gaze to the shadows behind his patron. The shadows moved. They looked at him. He saw the need in his guest's eyes. His guest preferred younger subjects.

"You said younger was better, but beauty would do. I've been told he's more handsome in person."

He looked at the photo again. Was there beauty here beyond the lines of experience and maturity in the eyes? He paused. The eyes were very pretty—blue...or maybe gray. They were a stormy blue filled with fire. He looked up.

"Okay," the artist answered. "But..." He cocked his head, listening. He looked behind his patron again. His guest still hunched there upon the floor. "But I need a young one again first."

His patron twisted around to see what the artist stared at, but his guest was already gone. Cunning beast.

His patron nodded. "Okay. There's no rush yet. I'll have a one for you tomorrow."

The artist smiled. His guest would be happy. And now he would have two subjects to work on.

xx

Ray's cellphone rang as he was fumbling for the keys to his house. He cursed his cold-numbed fingers as he tried to juggle through the multitude of keychains in his pockets. The phone rang again.

"All right! Jeez! So fuckin' cold out here! Can't ya wait til I'm inside?"

The phone rang again. It was starting to snow. Ray finally seized upon his house key as he flipped the phone open.

"Yeah?"

"Ray? It's Mulder. I think I may have found a connection."

Ray paused with the key in the lock. "Oh, yeah? Between the victims?"

"Yes, and Detective Perry—"

"Holy shit!"

"Ray? Ray? Are you all right?"

Ray stood shocked and open-mouthed in his doorway. The living room was in shambles. The couch was turned over and the television was smashed. Stella's collection of pink glass was now a sea of razor-sharp crystals on the beige carpet. The antique wingchair that she sometimes curled up in on winter nights was now a broken heap of frothy stuffing and iron springs.

He stepped further into the room. The dining table seemed intact, but the doors on the china closet hung open at odd angles. It looked as though the entire contents had been thrown into the den on the other side.

"Ray?" Mulder's tiny voice shook Ray from his daze. He brought the phone back to his ear.

"Mulder?"

"Ray, what happened?"

"My house... my house is...Mulder, my house has been broken into."

"The door was open?"

Ray paused. "No. It wasn't, but the place is trashed."

"Ray, don't touch anything. Call and get a team over there."

"Are you nuts, Mulder! I can't pull another department in on this! Lieu will kill me. We'll check it out ourselves. You call Scully. She's with Lewis. I'll call Joe and Patterson."

"This is your house, Ray. I'm sure your Lieutenant will understand."

Ray laughed. "Yeah? You don't know him too well. Just call Scully, and meet me here as soon as you can."

Ray ended the call and slipped his phone into his jacket. He pulled his gun from the holster. He doubted the perps were still there, but he had to check. As he backed up to close the front door, he could see the snow falling harder.

xx

The fire burned bright. Just a little flame. It flickered with the biting wind that blew in through the windows. The cold felt good and he only needed a little bit of flame.

Lui Chen was gone for the night. He was alone now with his guest. And the beast was hungry.

He sat down on his haunches and gazed at the hulking shadow. The plastic sheeting crinkled under his bare toes. He held up the two photographs. Which one would his guest prefer?

Surely the young one would be best. He extended the photo out to the shadow like an offering. The beast stared back him. Its misty gray eyes seemed unimpressed. That was confusing.

He looked at the photo again. Blond hair, blue eyes, shy smile, and just the right age. He could be the one, the subject the artist had waited for his whole life. The beast should be happy. It should be pacing, anxious for him to begin his work. But it simply sat there.

He scampered over to the fire and held the picture closer to the light. He squinted at the image. He fingered the surface of the photo, registered the quality of the paper, and recognized the outdated processing used on the film.

He sat straight up. His patron had lied to him. This photograph was too old! The subject was no longer a child! Perhaps he was not even alive anymore. He threw the photo to the floor.

The beast rumbled its displeasure. It was hungry of course. The artist lifted the other photo for inspection. The man was older—mid-thirties. But at least the photo was more recent—part of a yearly-updated ID badge.

Not a child, but it would do. The beast began to pace as he plucked the little plastic casing from the end of a new X-Acto knife. The small blade worked well for such delicate work. His previous tracings were starting to heal. He ran his hand up the right calf lined with scabs and decorated with dried blood. He looked down between his feet. The design Lui Chen had drawn on the floor was easily seen through the clear plastic.

He licked his lips. He no longer hesitated to make even the first cut. As the newly freed blood dripped down his leg, the beast moved from the shadow. He noticed its shifting, foggy form drift to the open window. The artist turned his attention back to the floor. He needed to focus his skill on the blood. It needed to follow the pattern on the floor.

Lui had told him not to cast his work into the movie film this time. The artist could choose his own medium for these two latest subjects. His patron was not specific.

The artist smiled. He had always thought the film had limited him. Genius should never be held back with such mundane restrictions. Any true artist knew that to truly express his art, then he must become one with his work.

xx

Alex stepped off the train and headed around the corner towards the restaurant. His new boss kept an office upstairs right above the kitchen. A lot of the drug business was transacted at the back door.

Not exactly a smartly run operation. No imagination. The police could track the drugs easily back to here. I guess this misfortune with Ray is just as well. I'll have to move on soon anyway.

Alex thought back to an hour ago. He was gentle with Ray the second time around. Showing how loving he could be always hurt, but Ray always accepted the soft caresses. Maybe Ray needed them too. Alex thought that the past few weeks had been healing time for both of them. Neither slept any easier than before they had met, but Alex did not feel as empty. Ray did not babble on about his ex-wife so much any more.

Too bad it couldn't last longer.

But I'm kidding myself. We don't really know each other. Just using each other.

Alex put his head down against the bitter wind. A few snowflakes drifted past. He tried to conjure up the warmth he had felt in Ray's last kiss. Sweet. Sweet and soft and hot like melted caramel candy.

A beautiful good-bye, even if Ray doesn't know I'm leaving for good. Still, I can't stay here with Mulder lurking nearby. I swear, the man is like a magnet. I could be on the other side of the world, and he would bump into me. Oh, wait, that happened.

Alex grimaced. Fucking Mulder, always fucking things up.

God, I want to see him.

He had only one more block to walk. The restaurant was just around the corner now. Alex slowed down as he spotted flickering lights reflecting off the buildings opposite his destination. He's probably with Ray now, at Ray's house.

Alex stopped. Maybe they're fucking again. That was Mulder's cologne I smelled!

The thought stunned him so badly that he almost missed a furtive figure hiding in the alley to his left. He recognized the man—a co-worker of sorts. His name was Tommy.

"Psst! Alex!"

Alex smirked. Oh, no, you aren't obvious at all.

"Tommy," he grated.

"Alex, man, it's the cops! They're raiding the place!"

How unsurprising. "The boss?"

"Nailed. They got mostly everybody, except me."

Hm. Too bad. You'd make someone a nice bitch in prison, Tommy. "Good going. Did they seize everything?"

"Nah. We're lucky. The big guy came over earlier and took his cut so there's not much cash left. Our delivery pick-up is for tomorrow night. We are so lucky. I mean, there's enough snow to keep everyone sweating 'til trial, but we're not totally out of business."

"What about the job with the cop?"

"The B and E with a scare? Little miss blond wife wasn't home. Too bad. I would have loved ta have some of that."

Raping, drug-addled, amateur. "So it still has to be done?"

"Nah, it's cool. We wrecked the place. Chen got what he wanted. I still might go back though. That wife was hot. Hey, I hear you, uh...you know, you bat for the other team, that true?"

"What the fuck do you care?" Alex menaced. Homophobic cretin.

Tommy lifted his hands. "Hey, it's cool. Just that Vinny remembers seein' you with some blond guy, you know, before you started working with us."

"And?" Alex growled.

Tommy giggled. "The cop, man, the cop is blond. Ya wanna come along? Two blonds is better than one, ya know?"

Alex grinned, but Tommy must have seen the ice in his eyes. The giggles stopped and he stepped back. Alex lunged. One quick flick of the wrist, and Tommy fell back against the wall, clutching his throat.

Not fast enough, Tommy. "He's mine," Alex snarled. He kicked Tommy's corpse. Then he deftly checked the area before slipping away. His footprints in the light snow were quickly covered over.

xx

Scully swept the last of the larger pink shards into the dustpan, and Mulder turned to dump them. It was almost midnight now. There were several inches of snow on the ground. He could see exhaustion settling into Scully's eyes. He wished he could tell her to go back to the hotel for her much-desired hot bath, but they needed to follow up his lead tonight.

They had lifted plenty of prints here at the house. Whoever was behind destroying Ray's home had been careless. Mulder climbed to his feet as he saw Perry enter from the hall and tuck away his cell phone.

"That was Patterson," Perry explained, "The bust went well. Not much evidence, but enough to jail Chizjik and a few of his men. I need to get back to the station."

Ray stepped around from the dining room. "I'm sorry, Perry. Ya shoulda been there wid Pats to take in Chizjik."

"Don't worry about it, Ray. We wouldn't have known this quickly that Chizjik was taking over part of Chen's business if we weren't working on your case. Getting him early, Chen didn't have time to clean up the operation."

"Yeah, well thanks anyway. Be careful on the drive back," Ray added. He shook Perry's hand and showed him to the door.

Scully propped the broom against the wall and brushed down her pants. "Well Mulder, I think we should go check out your lead now. This weather is only supposed to continue. Tomorrow we may be snowed into the hotel."

Mulder nodded. "I suspect that the time of day won't be a problem."

"Okay, but it's a slim connection," she added.

Ray returned from the hall. "Hey, it's the only one we got."

Mulder smiled and placed a placatory hand on Ray's shoulder. Easy, Ray.

"I think we have something, Scully. All of the school portraits taken by the same photographer. The schools weren't even in the same district. Plus, it would make sense that the creator of these glamors would have in depth knowledge of photography and film processing."

"Alright, Mulder," Scully conceded. "I'm not arguing with you. Let's go."

"Joe and me will come too," Ray said, "I'll follow in the Le Baron."

Mulder paused. "Ray-"

"Come on, Mulder, " Scully said as she left for the car.

"Ray, maybe you should stay here." He touched Ray's elbow and then clasped the wiry arm through the soft, long-sleeved shirt. Ray's muscles were hard with tension.

"Why?" the cop challenged.

Mulder quickly glanced to the kitchen at the end of the hall. He could clearly see Joe, but the husky cop had his back turned and was busy writing notes. Mulder moved closer to Ray. "You've been through a lot tonight," he said softly, "First a long talk with Stella and then coming home to find your privacy invaded."

Ray stiffened. Mulder moved even closer and reached up to caress Ray's hair. A furtive glance showed Joe still preoccupied with writing.

"I just worry about you."

The rebellious blue stare broke and Ray dipped his head with a wry smile. "It's cool. I'm okay."

Mulder cupped the back of his head and leaned in for a kiss. Ray jerked away. "Mulder, you nuts? Joe is right there," he whispered.

"He's busy." Mulder smirked.

"Yer partner's waiting," Ray said pointedly.

Mulder sighed and backed away. He could not resist a soft caress of his fingertips around Ray's neck and along the stubble-coated jaw. He saw his reward in the banked fire of Ray's eyes. Soon Ray. I remember being with you and I don't want to wait much longer.

Finally, he stepped away, but he could feel the air around alive with restrained energy. Scully called from outside. Mulder turned and headed out into the blowing snow.

xx

The ritual was almost complete. The beast hovered at the open window, oblivious to the snow gathering on the sill. Its sides heaved in anticipation, and breath that should have been searing hot, did not cloud the icy air.

The artist made his final swipe of blade through skin. Perfect. His best yet. With trembling hand, he plucked the photograph from the center of the bloody design and dropped it into the brazier. The flames quickly licked at the melting plastic and a noxious smell filled the air.

The beast leaped from the window. The artist grinned. His guest was pleased even though the subject was not young. The shadowy creature exacted a high price, but were not his masterful creations worth it? He looked across the room where a full-length mirror stood by the far wall.

Yes. Good.

He scuttled across the floor towards his reflection. He did not feel different, yet the myriad of cuts and bruises upon his body did not show. He raised one long arm and gazed at the elegant fingers in wonder. How strange it was to have a face he did not know. Yet how utterly wonderful.

"I am truly great," he whispered.

xx

Alex drove recklessly around corners as he raced to Lui Chen's shop. David Chen's men were unusually loyal. Alex had killed two before the third started talking.

He had said good-bye to Ray, and now, as a final act of generosity to his lover, he would save his life, again. He was grateful for his fluent Chinese and that he had been lucky enough to be present during Chizjik's negotiations with Daniel Chen.

"I like momentos," Chen had said. Alex had itched to carve that smirk right off his face. One of his sidekick's had laughed. "The cop will die, and no one even will know how." Alex had covered his reaction well.

Chinese witchcraft. Alex chuckled as he swerved around a salt truck. Now I know Mulder is in town. Or is it you, Ray? Do you attract the supernatural like Mulder? Maybe it's me. I'm only drawn to men with a penchant for weirdness.

He ran a red light, narrowly missing a pedestrian scurrying to get home. I hope I'm not too late. None of those men would admit to details. May I should have shot that last guy's knees as well. No. He talked easily enough. He deserved the quick death.

Alex yanked the steering wheel and screeched to a stop in front of Lui Chen's small shop. Then he darted from the car, gun drawn. The street was empty. All of the businesses were closed. Even the bit of trash that he expected to rustle with the wind was buried under the newly-fallen snow. A streetlamp down the block barely illuminated the building. Across the street, in another store, a row of digital clocks in the front window cast a sickly green glow into the air.

Midnight—the witching hour. Wonderful. I hope this isn't an omen.

The front door was locked as expected. Alex crept around back. A window on the second floor yawned open and a faint light flickered on the ceiling.

Firelight? Am I catching someone in the middle of a ritual, perhaps?

He swung himself up onto the fire escape and looked to the window again. "What the fuck is that?" he mouthed to himself.

Something sat hunched in the open window like a giant hawk, but bulky like a Rottweiler, something that shifted like fog. Alex blinked against the snowflakes that clung to his lashes. Visibility was poor. Maybe his imagination was just taking hold. Alex listened. The snow seemed to silence the world. Then he detected a faint scraping, a light scratching, like fingernails on brick, or...claws, yes, talons maybe.

Alex shrank deeper into the shadows. The strange creature moved and shifted again. Alex resisted the urge to blink. Suddenly, it sprang from its perch.

He caught a glimpse of red eyes glowing like embers. Then he pressed himself to the brick wall as the beast clambered down the side of the fire escape, head first.

Alex's heart hammered in his chest, and he felt sweat trickle down his collar. The beast passed him by and the combined horrific stench of sour milk and slaughterhouses assaulted him. He was reminded of the gulag in Tunguska and the back alleys of Hong Kong. His left shoulder suddenly ached and he suppressed the urge to move and rub the healing wound. Death had just crept by, closer than ever before and Alex did not want to call attention to himself.

A few moments passed as he gathered courage to step forward and continue climbing up. The creature was gone, but the light still flickered from the window above.

Alex gripped his gun tighter. He was getteing closer. The windowsill bore huge gouges ripped through the concrete. Alex reached under his jacket and unsnapped the straps securing his knife. Breathe, Alex. You can handle anything. Just, please don't let there be another one of those...things.

He quickly peeked inside and froze. His eyes widened in disbelief. Only years of training and habit kept him from dropping his gun in shock.

"Fox?"

xx

"So did you call Mr. Winchell earlier?" Scully asked from the passenger seat.

"Hm?" Mulder pulled his attention away from his mirrors. The snow was fairly deep now and he wondered if Ray's car had front-wheel drive.

"Theodore Winchell, the photographer, the man we're going to investigate now, Mulder?"

"Oh. No, I didn't want to him to run."

"Are you that certain he's the one?"

Mulder nodded. "I bet we won't even have to dig too far to find his connection to the Chens"

"Well, there's no guarantee he'll talk to us tonight. It's just after midnight. I doubt he'll even open the door."

"Open up! It's the F.B.I.!" he joked. Mulder reached inside his jacket for his badge, but it wasn't there. "Scully, can you check my suit jacket for my badge?"

"Sure." A minute later she threw the jacket into the back seat again. "It isn't there. Did you leave it at the hotel?"

"I don't think so. In fact, damn, I think I left it in the conference room at the station."

"Oh, well, let's hope, Mr. Winchell doesn't ask to see your badge. Anyway, I've got mine. You just better hope you haven't lost it. They're going to start charging you for replacements, Mulder."

"They already do," he responded with a smile.

Mulder checked his rearview mirror again.

"He's right behind us, Mulder," Scully chided. Then she laughed.

"What?" Mulder asked.

"Who knew you could be so enamored," she teased.

"What do you mean? I'm just worried. The road are terrible. Besides, Ray has been through a lot lately." Mulder glanced over at his partner. She was grinning.

"Uh-huh."

"Really, Scully. That's all."

"Mm-hmm." Her smile broadened. "And you lagged behind earlier, to what? Express your concern?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I did," Mulder confidently answered.

"Uh-huh. You didn't kiss him too?"

Mulder felt his face heat up as he struggled for an escape from her line of questioning. He should have known better.

"A quick grope maybe?" Now Scully was laughing. Mulder felt his face turn redder as he tried to defend himself.

"We are both professionals, Scully, and this is an official case-"

"Oh, come on, Mulder. Your eyes were practically glued to his butt!"

"Scully!" To his disbelief, Scully was almost on the floor in tears. Mulder tried to keep one eye on the slippery road, and one on the extraordinary sight of his partner in the throws of comical hysterics. He fought against a smile of his own, but her laughter was contagious.

"Scully, Scully, come on, stop," Mulder giggled. He looked over. She was slouched over wiping her eyes and smiling brightly at him. He looked back at the road. A large dog loomed up in the headlights.

"Shit!" Mulder slammed on the brakes. The car swerved wildly in the snow.

"Mulder!" Scully cried as she was thrown forward. He heard a loud snap. Then the car spun out of his control.

xx

"Fox?"

The rest of the room blurred as Alex focused on his beautiful ex-lover kneeling naked before a mirror, examining his reflection. Alex shoved himself through the window, into the room. His feet hit the floor with a crackle and Alex looked down at a layer of plastic that covered the entire floor. Fox did not move. He did not even turn at the sound of Alex approaching.

"Mulder? Are you okay?" Alex reached out his prosthetic to graze Fox's shoulder. The man jumped up in response and turned on his heel. Startled gray-blue eyes gazed at Alex in wonder.

"I did it," Fox whispered.

Alex stared back, completely perplexed. "Did what? Mulder, are you hurt? How did you get here?"

"Look at me." Fox's hushed voice was filled with awe. "A work of art."

Alex stared back with a half-smile. "Yeah, I agree, but you're being really weird right now, Mulder. What happened to you?"

Alex took in the rest of the room. There were no lights except for a small fire burning in an old bathroom sink laying in the middle of the floor. Photography equipment lay in a jumbled heap partially blocking the doorway out. A cot was shoved against the nearest wall behind the freestanding mirror. The floor was covered in blood.

Alex quickly looked Fox over. He seemed unharmed, but his legs and feet were streaked with blood. He could see now where the agent had crawled over from by the fire.

"Mulder, where is Winchell?"

Fox looked at him blankly.

"The photographer, is he still here?" he hissed.

Fox glanced down at Alex's gun. "No," Fox answered, "He left."

xx

"Whoa!" Ray exclaimed as the car ahead suddenly braked and skidded across the road. He struggled with his own car as he tried to avoid Mulder's. The back end swung out narrowly missing Mulder's back bumper. Then the big, gray car slowly arched to a stop and lightly bumped against a snowbank.

"Jesus! What happened?" Joe exclaimed.

"Dunno," Ray answered, "But look—they're not movin'. Come on." Ray scrambled from the car. The wind hit him hard as he squinted through the falling snow for any other cars. But the street was empty.

Ray looked back as he crossed to the crashed, rented Ford. Joe was digging in the trunk, getting flares to set up on the road. The Ford was facing him and Ray could see the that the front end was smashed in almost up to the windsheild. Both front tires were flat and the driver's side wheel bent outward at the bottom.

Broken shaft. The car is toast. Hope they're okay.

Snow had already obscured any view through the windshield, but Ray could see blood smeared on the inside glass. He hurried to the driver's side and opened the door. Mulder was slumped over on the wheel.

"Detective Kowalski, I'm stuck."

Ray looked over Mulder's back at Scully. She was wedged down in her seat, leaning against the passenger door, cradling her left arm.

"Yer arm broken?" he asked as he checked for Mulder's pulse.

"Yes. And my head hurts. I'm a little dizzy. How's Mulder?"

"He's got a pulse. Looks like he banged his head on the steering wheel. There's a lotta blood."

"Can you see the wound?"

Ray tried to look without moving the agent. He didn't want to aggravate any neck or back injuries. "Geez, there's a lotta blood. I can't really see."

Just then, Joe came around with a flashlight. "The ambulance is on the way. How are they?"

Ray half-turned to face Joe. "Scully's going inta shock, but she's still talking. I need the light ta look at Mulder."

Joe handed him the light and then hurried around the car to attend to Scully. Ray wedged himself between Mulder's knees and the dashboard to look up into Mulder's pale face. Blood dripped down onto Ray's cheek, but now he could see the deep gash in Mulder's forehead.

"Looks pretty bad," Ray said. He reached into the back seat and grabbed Mulder's suit jacket. Bunching it up, he carefully slid it under Mulder's head to help stanch the bleeding. "How long did they say they'd be?" he asked Joe.

Joe shook his head. "The snow is just getting worse. They'll get here as soon as they can. Agent Scully, I don't think we should move you. To tell you the truth, I don't think I can move you. Ray, do you have a first aid kit in the car?"

Ray nodded. "Keep the doors closed and climb in back. We need ta keep it warm in here."

Ray ran back to his car and retrieved the first aid kit and blanket from the back seat. On his way back, he had a sudden feeling of being watched.

xx

Alex stepped around the mirror and snatched a blanket from the cot. "We need to get out of here. Where is Scully?"

Returning to Fox, he briefly holstered his weapon, then wrapped the blanket around his ex-lover's naked form. "Mulder? Where is Scully?"

Fox looked at him blankly. "Scully?"

Fuck. What happened to you? Alex drew his gun again. "I'll look around. Stay here," he said. There was only one way out besides the window. Alex crept towards the open doorway, listening for the slightest sound. He only heard Fox moving around behind him.

"Mulder stand still," he whispered. The hall outside was pitch black. He could hear a mouse or a rat rustling a few feet down the way. Then he felt Fox's presence right behind him and whirled around. "Mulder! You need to stay-"

Alex cried out in shock and pain. He looked down at a knife hilt protruding from his abdomen. Fox's hand was still wrapped around it. Alex looked up into familiar eyes wide with madness. "No," he whispered.

He raised the prosthetic hand to graze Fox's arm. "Mulder, please, I'm here to help." He groaned against the pain as it flared through his body. How long is the knife? Oh, fuck.

Fox ripped the blade out. Alex doubled over, clamping his arm to the wound as blood flowed freely. He saw Fox raise the knife over his head just as he fell to one knee. He looked up. The blade flashed in the dim light as it descended towards him. He knocked the hand holding it with his gun and the blade skimmed his shoulder. Alex heaved forward, shoving his head into Fox's chest and slamming them both to the floor.

Alex heard a grunt as they landed. He struggled to sit up and aim his gun. The floor and Fox were slippery with blood. Alex felt dizzy and weak. Finally, he gained his balance and kneeled up, bring the gun to target. Fox still lay on the floor, clutching the knife and in a blink, he kicked out, striking Alex's wound.

"FUCK!" Alex screamed as he fell backwards. Fox scrambled after him, bringing the knife to bear.

xx

Ray could feel the hair on his arms tingling. His heart beat erratically. From the corner of his eye, Ray saw a large, dark shape squatting in the middle of the road.

Did Mulder hit something?

He whipped around, but the street was empty. The snow had only been disturbed from the two cars and Ray and Joe's footsteps.

Freaky.

Ray scurried to the Ford. The back door was dented near the handle and he struggled to pull it open. He could see Joe moving around in the back seat to kick at the door as well. Just as the door gave way, he glimpsed the dark shape again.

"Get in," Joe said.

"There's a dog or somethin' out here."

"We'll look later. Get in. Mulder looks bad."

Ray climbed into the back seat and slammed the door shut. Joe had the flashlight on and wedged into Scully's headrest so it lit up the front seat. Scully was still conscious, but pale.

"I'll make her a sling," Joe explained as he opened the first aid kit, "Mulder's head isn't bleeding as much, but he feels cold."

"Ah, Geez. We'll never get this car started for heat. It's totalled."

"We might have to move him, buddy."

Scully shook her head. "You can't," she said, "He could have spinal injuries."

Ray leaned over the seat to look at Mulder himself. His lips were bluish. "Fuck. We can't wait for the ambulance. I don't think he's breathing."

"Oh, God, Mulder," Scully whimpered.

Ray and Joe scrambled from the car to pull Mulder out onto the snow. Joe propped his head with the blood-soaked suit jacket. Mulder had stopped breathing. Ray felt for a pulse, and it was there, but very weak. Joe covered him with the blanket as Ray knelt by his head to perform artificial respiration.

"Please be okay," Ray whispered. Then he leaned over to give Mulder breath.

xx

Focus, dammit!

His vision cleared in time to see Fox hovering over him. The knife slashed through the air. Alex rolled away and the blade chipped into the floorboards. "Mulder!" he croaked. He brought his gun to bear again. "I'll have to shoot," he warned.

Fox hesitated, looking from the gun to his face and back again. Alex could clearly see the calculations running through Fox's head.

My God, what has happened to him? He's completely insane. "I will shoot you, Mulder," he warned again, but he was not as certain as he sounded. I can't fucking shoot you. Just put down the goddamned knife! Please.

Fox lunged towards him, grabbing his gun. A shot went off, hitting the ceiling. They struggled for possession. Alex grit his teeth against the pain like fire in his belly. He struck Fox with his hard, plastic hand, but the man was frantically slashing with the knife while trying to wrench the gun from Alex's hand. Alex felt his foot slip in the blood on the floor. His body turned to recover balance and he felt the gun slipping from his grasp. Suddenly, Fox slipped as well and the gun went off again.

xx

Ray felt Mulder's body jerk in his hands. He looked down to see Mulder breathing on his own. "Thank you, God," he said. His chest hurt from breathing for two and he had almost relinquished his place to Joe.

"Here they come," Joe said from beside him.

Ray looked up to see the flashing red and blue lights bearing down on them through the snowstorm. He could see Scully still awake in the car.

"Ray."

Ray looked down into Mulder's face and smiled. "Hey there," he said. And not caring whether Joe saw or not, he leaned down and softly kissed Mulder's lips.

xx

Alex stood in horror at the sight before him. The gun clattered to the floor.

I killed him. Oh, fuck. Oh, God. Fox. He fell to his knees and reached a shaky hand out to touch Fox's shoulder. The agent's legs were bent and his arms splayed out to either side. His eyes were frozen in surprise. A black bullet hole marred the skin beneath his jaw and a pool of dark blood was rapidly spreading out from beneath his head.

Alex's breathing was short and choppy as he struggled to accept what he had done. "Mulder," he called, "Fox." He stretched his hand up to caress the warm cheek. He thought for a moment that those curious gray eyes might blink and his lover would turn to him with a wide smile. But his hand brushed aside the soft mink-colored bangs and the eyes continued to stare blankly at the near wall.

"Fox?" he spoke weakly. Alex's fingers brushed through Fox's hair again. This time they encountered blood and sharp bone. Alex jerked his hand away. Blood covered his fingertips. He backed up and hugged his knees.

This can't have happened. No. I didn't— He's not— Oh, God. Blood on the floor. Blood dried on Fox's legs. Fresher blood, Alex's own, streaked Fox's beautiful, lean torso and his long, outstretched arms. Blood soaked through Alex's clothing. Blood on his gun, the walls, the tripod that lay carelessly on the floor.

Alex glanced down at the blood slowly expanding out from Fox's dead body. It had almost reached his blood-covered boots. If he sat there much longer, then his own life's blood would trickle down and join his love's. "Maybe then we could be together," Alex whispered.

He looked up again at the gray eyes. Clouding over now, they seemed to be looking back at him. But the loving, trusting glance he wanted to see so desperately was absent. Fox seemed to be accusing him, blaming him, maybe even chastising him?

Yes. That's it. We can still be together, just not yet. I have to finish the case. Kill Theodore Winchell. Kill Lui Chen. Kill Daniel Chen. Kill the whole fucking Chen family for ever starting this!

Alex crawled forward and straightened Fox's limbs. He kissed each eye closed. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it," he whispered. Then he scooped up his gun and stumbled to his feet.

It took him a few minutes longer to get to his car. Luckily his car was not buried in the snow yet and there was a hospital three blocks away. He knew that with weather this bad, the emergency room would be bustling. In the confusion, he could be treated and sneak out again easily.

xx

Three days later, Lieutenant Briggs sat listening to two F.B.I. agents, two detectives from Organized Crime, a crime scene investigator from the night shift and his own two detectives from the Sex Crime Unit.

"So the next day Joe and me went over ta Lui Chen's place ta question Winchell like we were gonna. But there's cops already there. Somebody'd done a number on ole Lui Chen. His body was hangin' from the front doorway of the shop."

"Mob hit?" Briggs asked.

"We're not sure," one of the F.B.I. agents answered. The well-tailored man sat forward in his seat. A three-inch line of stitches decorated his forehead from a just above the left eye to almost the hairline. Mulder. That's his name. The redhead is Scully.

Mulder continued, "No particular group is stepping forward to claim the killing."

"Yeah. Word on the street says it was personal," Detective Perry added.

"So," Ray continued, "We head up stairs. CSI is already there, measuring footprints and bagging evidence."

The crime scene investigator, Lauren, spoke up. "We've collected a lot of evidence—fingerprints, hair, fibers, and two different blood types."

"I have never seen so much blood." Ray stood up and paced around the room.

Lauren continued. "It seems there was some sort of ritual being performed and it either got interrupted or it was completed." Lauren paused to show photographs of the scene.

Mulder pointed to the first photograph. "It looks as though someone was kneeling here, by the sink and then crawled over to here, the mirror."

Lauren nodded. "We're certain that person was Winchell. Someone else entered through the open window. They spoke and then started fighting over here by the door. This is where the second blood type come in—O positive. And this is where we found Winchell's body."

Scully leaned forward to interrupt. "I've examined both bodies. Winchell died from a single gun shot wound to the head. His body had numerous cuts and bruises, both caused before death. My guess is that the bruises were inflicted during the fight, but the cuts were self-administered."

"The ritual he was performing required his own blood," Mulder added.

"His death occurred several hours before Lui Chen's," Scully said.

"My team is conducting tests to pinpoint time of death a little more closely," Lauren added.

"Well, okay," Briggs said, "But do we know who did all this? And do you, Detective, have a connection to the pornography case you're supposed to be working on?"

Ray beamed. "Yes. Winchell had photographs of every kid pinned up over his cot on the wall. We got canisters of film that match the brand of the negatives with, get this, Darren Quick fingerprints all over them."

"That's all circumstantial. Guess we're lucky we don't have to prove anything there anyway, seeing as he's dead." Then he turned to Detective Perry. "What about your angle?"

"Well, we can't get anybody on the kiddie porn, but we found an old photograph of Detective Kowalski at Lui Chen's store. Apparently it was stolen from Ray's house when they broke in, and Daniel Chen's fingerprints are all over it. Not such a big thing, but we're leaning on some of Chizjik's men hoping to get a witness that Chen ordered the theft." Perry held up his hand with a big smile. "But that would just be an added bonus. In the basement of Lui Chen's store, we confiscated ten kilos of uncut heroin, plus the record books for half of the Chen family drug business in the city.

Joe leaned in to present the fingerprint record. "All the rest of the prints lifted belong to someone we know—Lui Chen, Darren Quick, Daniel Chen, or Thoedore Winchell. So we only have DNA evidence to go on—nothing to track down an identity for our killer. We can keep it on file in case we pick the guy up, but Lui Chen looks like a professional killing."

Briggs nodded. "So you think it is a mob hit. Okay. Good work, Detective Villeta."

"The great thing is," Perry continued, "is that Daniel Chen's signature and prints are all over the ledger books. Detective Patterson and I have a warrant for his arrest and we'll be picking him up this morning."

Briggs smiled at the pride he saw in his detectives' eyes. "Good work. Kowalski and Villeta, you two continue working with Perry and Patterson. Wrap this case up nice and pretty."

He turned to Mulder and Scully. "Agents, I want to thank you for your help in this matter. I'm not sure what you can do further, but I can't recall the last time the Feds worked so well with any of my detectives."

"Anything we can do to help, Lieutenant." Scully stood and started gathering her files.

Briggs stood as well. "I'd like a complete report on my desk after Daniel Chen's arrest." Kowalski and Viletta both nodded.

Briggs left the room and shook his head.

And to think I'd almost pulled them from the case.

xx

Alex stood in the doorway to his empty apartment. He nodded in satisfaction. Nothing left, nothing to trace.

He looked down at his cellphone in his hand. He was tempted to call Ray one last time. Alex sighed. It would be a bad idea.

How much did Mulder tell you before...before...Fuck. Doesn't matter. I'd only end up killing you too... or worse. That's what I'm best at.

Alex jumped as the phone rang in his hand. He grimaced at the neon-lit screen.

"What?" he answered.

"Your vacation is over. You fly to Hong Kong tonight—10pm flight."

Alex closed his eyes and slowly breathed out through his nose. "I have unfinished business here," he said as he thought of the rest of the Chen family still scheming and profiting.

"Too bad. A contact you recognize will meet you at the airport. Be there. We won't be pleased if we have to look for you."

The connection ended. Alex was tempted to throw the phone across the room, but that would be a waste. So he pulled together his pride and anger like a pair of battered wings. Slipping the phone into his jacket, he closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment. As expected, the image of his dead lover lying in a pool of blood popped into his head. His lean, strong Fox, so inquisitive, so unstoppable, lay toppled in a heap of tangled limbs. The glazed-over eyes still stared at him, enforcing his guilt.

"Soon Fox, soon," he whispered. Then he remembered that the negatives Ray had discovered and started the whole case, originated from Hong Kong. Slowly, his mouth crept into a thin smile and his eyes hardened to flinty chips.

Alex shook the expression from his face. He had a job to complete now. He had an inner motive to keep him going. And the one person who could ever make him regret killing, was now his inspiration. He turned on his heel, leaving the door open. He took the subway to the airport. No one looked at him twice. Not one person he passed suspected how lucky their name was Adams or Johnson or Taylor, or anything but the name Chen.

xx

"Fergot ta ask you. How's yer head?" Ray reached out his fingers and grazed the stitches above Mulder's eye.

Mulder smiled down into Ray's face. "I'll be fine."

"You do seem ta be better." Ray grinned as his hand swirled through their come splattered on his stomach. "Do ya think Scully heard us?" Ray asked.

Mulder grinned back. "She's probably got a glass to the wall."

Ray laughed. "Oh, geez. Well, at least you could tell her the truth about why ya wanted ta stay til tomorrow."

"Mm. Yeah." Mulder looked down again and started nuzzling Ray's collarbone, right near where Ray knew was a prominent bite mark from Alex.

"So what about this guy you're seeing?" Mulder mumbled into his skin, "Isn't he going to miss you tonight?"

Ray bit his lip. "Nah, he's history." Ray swept his fingers through Mulder's hair, gently keeping the agent from seeing Ray's face. He thought about how he felt an hour ago standing in front of the open door to Alex's apartment. The place was empty. Not just deserted, but picked clean.

He'd walked over the soft carpeting to stand and look at the iron steps leading to the bedroom above. His knees ached in remembered pain. No call. No good-bye. Until that moment he hadn't realized how much Alex meant—even with the lies and the inherent danger. He was so glad that Mulder had extended the invitation to his hotel room.

His bond with Mulder was so different, but tonight it felt good to be cuddled. He had always craved that connection with a human being after each big case, but tonight he felt even more alone. No Stella. No case. No Alex. Not even a Rick. But there was Mulder. At least for tonight. Ray hugged the long body to him closer, enjoying the agent'S weight on him. Mulder pressed back and rubbed a growing erection against Ray's leg. Ray smiled. With only tonight left, he was going to make the most of it.

xx

The next morning, Ray had seen Mulder off to the airport. Then he spent time writing up his report from yesterday and trying to ignore the silence that seemed to separate Joe and himself.

What's with the cold shoulder routine, huh Joe? Ray looked at his partner quizzically. Their week was going well.

Daniel Chen was in jail, waiting to post bail. Ray was certain someone in the Chen family would come and put up the money, but until then, he enjoyed going back into lock-up and seeing the polished business man sitting with all the drunks and hookers arrested the night before.

The pornography case was still open, but with Darren Quick behind bars and Theodore Winchell dead, Ray knew there would not be much more done. Even the two deaths were being classified as unsolvable contract killings. Ray was not happy with that decision, either was Lauren from CSI, but Joe seemed content to let it lie. In fact Joe seemed pretty content with everything, everything except Ray that is.

I can't figure it out. I mean, I know we haven't been buddy-buddy lately, but that happens. The case was rough. But, Geez, the past few days I hardly get a word from him.

"Here." Joe glanced over their desks long enough to pass Ray a file that needed his signature.

Ray snapped. "What is up your ass lately?"

"Excuse me?" Joe answered.

Well, okay. I coulda said that better.

Joe stared at him. "Maybe I should ask you that."

Ray stared back. Huh? "Whaddya mean?"

"Did you have fun last night?" Joe sneered.

Last night? With Mulder? Ray shock must have shown on his face.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice? Christ, Ray you fucking kissed the guy right in front of me!" Joe's voice went up in volume and Ray glanced around the room to see if anyone had heard him. Jeannie, the secretary was looking over at them curiously.

"Keep it down, Joe," Ray said calmly.

"Fuck you! When were you gonna tell me you're a fag?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ray saw Jeannie's mouth drop open.

"Joe, for Christsake, don't freak out. It was just...I dunno, relieved that he was alive. He's my friend."

"You can't cover this up, Ray. Does Stella know? I've been feeling bad, you know, thinking that she was divorcing you cause of the job. But that ain't it is it?"

"Don't you even talk to me about Stella! I love her! Stella is none of your business!"

"Did she catch you? Did she come home one night and find you taking it up the ass?"

Ray leaped to his feet and felt his hand curl into a tight fist. Now they had the whole room's attention. Ray even saw Lieutenant Briggs peek his head out of his office and that was probably what kept him from hitting Joe. "I have NEVER done anything to hurt Stella. My personal life is none of your FUCKING business," he gritted out between clenched teeth.

"Well you made it MY business and the business of everyone here when you got that Fed to get down on his knees and SUCK YOUR COCK!"

Ray felt is face go white. He swallowed convulsively, to shocked to speak. Joe saw?! He saw me and Mulder! Shit! Not just with a guy, but with a federal agent. Everyone's gonna know.

And Ray suddenly realized that his expression only confirmed Joe's accusation. Everyone did know. And he wasn't just gay. They could accept that and say, 'Oh, but he's a great cop.' No. He was gay and fucked around with the Feds. And he did it at work.

Joe shoved his chair back and stormed out of the room. Ray looked down at the floor, shame, hurt, and anger making appearances in his face, but none took hold. He could not look around him. Everyone was staring, but no one was looking. None of them said a word, but their eyes spoke loud accusations and whispering pity. The room was silent and filled with a pounding in his ears so deafening that he thought his head would explode and he would die.

"Detective."

Ray jumped. Lieutenant Briggs's voice set everyone in motion, but the room was still quieter than normal.

"Kowalski, I've got a case for you. Come in my office."

Ray nodded and turned, following, keeping his head down. The lieutenant shut his office door and stepped around to his desk.

"I hadn't decided to offer this case to you yet, but . . . considering the circumstances, the timing is perfect, I thought maybe you'd want it."

Ray shifted back on one foot and stuck his hands in his pockets. He still could not meet his superior's eye. "What is it?"

"An undercover assignment. A detective over in the 27th Precinct in going under cover with the mob. We need a replacement. It's a seriously dangerous and risky assignment, and no one can question his absence at the station."

Ray looked up and hesitantly searched his superior's face, but there was no disgust there, or anger, or anything, but respectful sincerity.

"You tryin' ta get rid of me?"

"No, Ray. I'm giving you a chance. That station is on the other side of the city. As soon as you leave, know one here will be allowed to talk about you in any way. It will be like you never existed. Your cover has to be seamless."

Ray cleared his throat. "I'm goin' through a divorce."

"I'll have the paperwork processed quickly. You would still be a cop, a detective, but you'd be living someone else's life. I just thought you would want a break from yours for a little while. It isn't mine or anybody's business what you do with your personal time. Joe will be reprimanded for his outburst. And I'm going to ignore is accusation, because you're a great cop, Ray. A good man too. No one else would be surviving after all the hits you've taken. I'll give you until Friday to think about it. Okay?"

Ray shook his head. "Nah. I don't need ta think about it. I'll do it. I'm yer man."

xx

saba27@optonline.net

Title: Slaves to Transgression II
Author: Katail
Date: June 2001
Rating: NC-17 for language, violence, and m/m interaction
Spoilers: X-Files—up to Tunguska, Due South—none
Summary: Part of the Lost Souls series. Follows 'Temptation.' Alex Krycek steps into Ray Kowalski's life again while the detective tries to solve a horrific case.
Note: You don't necessarily need to read the rest of the Lost Souls series to figure what's going on, but I would love it if you did. I write very slowly, but every bit of feedback zaps me into action!
Beta credit goes to Hiro—Thank you chickie!
Disclaimer: Krycek, Mulder and Scully belong to CC and 1013. Ray and Stella belong to Alliance. All other characters are mine.

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