Late by Lorelei Alex walked into the empty holding cell, glad at least for solitude. The older cop with the kind eyes had taken one look at him and steered him away from the crowded main holding cell, the occupants of which were already beginning to hoot and catcall, eager to spend some quality time with the new arrival. "I don't need to break up any more fights in there tonight," the cop said quietly, his keys jingling as he locked the cell door behind Alex. "We usually use this cell for juvenile offenders. As long as we don't get any kids in here tonight, you can stay here." Alex nodded, standing uncertainly in the middle of the small, barren cell. He looked down, embarrassed. He knew what he looked like. A pretty boy who liked it rough and had gotten a good beating for his trouble. He clenched and unclenched his fists, listening to the angry shouts of the men in the holding cell down the hall, bitterly disappointed at the loss of their night's sport. "Knock it off in there!" the cop shouted, banging his nightstick against the bars. Grumbling and grousing, the men slowly quieted, but not before Alex heard a few of them expressing in explicit terms exactly what they'd planned to do to him. Alex closed his eyes. He was a pretty boy all right. Even under the blood and grime, he was still an attractive piece of meat. It was all he'd ever been. All of his life he'd been told how beautiful he was. Being beautiful had made him Spender's pet assassin. Being beautiful had made it easier to kill, his victims projecting all sorts of good and innocent qualities onto him, right up until the moment he pressed the muzzle of his gun against the backs of their heads. Being beautiful had landed him here, in this cell. Being beautiful had... Being beautiful had brought him Walter and Fox. Alex swallowed hard, his eyes suddenly burning. Walter and Fox had called him beautiful. But they didn't say it like everyone else always had. They said it like they were looking inside him, truly seeing him. Like he, Alex, was truly beautiful, not just the sum of his parts. Stop it, Alex admonished himself. Don't think about that. The cop returned to Alex's cell, looking him over through the bars, taking in the bruises, the split lip, the dried blood on his jaw. "You don't look so good, buddy. You need me to get somebody down here with a first aid kit?" Alex shook his head. The cop started to walk away, then paused. "You get a phone call, you know. Anyone you want to call?" Alex sank down wearily on the metal cot, the thin mattress offering little comfort to his sore body. He raked a hand through his tangled dark hair. "No. No one," he whispered. He listened to the sound of the cop's footsteps as they faded away, then drew his knees up, huddling into himself. He rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes. Welcome home, Alex, he thought. This is where you belong. A muffled sob escaped him as he thought of the place he had called home for the past two years, of Walter and Fox, of the big bed they shared, waking up together in a cozy tangle of arms and legs, their skin so warm against his. Thought of Walter's booming laugh, Fox's sardonic chuckle. Alex had loved to make them laugh. Thought of the night just last week, the three of them curled up by the fire, content and sleepy after the huge meal Walter had prepared. Alex had lain propped against Walter's chest, Walter's arm snaked around his waist, his deep baritone voice vibrating through Alex gently as he told them stories about growing up on his father's farm. Alex's eyelids had begun to close even as he fought to stay awake, his hand carding lazily through Fox's soft chestnut hair, feeling Fox shift slightly, his head pillowed on Alex's lap. Walter had stopped talking at one point, thinking his lovers were asleep, when he was nudged sleepily by Alex to continue. Alex loved to hear Walter talk, it didn't matter about what. They had slept there, in front of the fire, waking the next day to stiff necks and sore joints. A long soak in the hot tub and massages all around had solved that problem. Alex remembered lying naked on his stomach, groaning with pleasure as Walter's expert hands worked the scented oil deep into his aching muscles. "If I didn't know any better, boy, I'd swear you planned for us to fall asleep downstairs," Walter had mock-growled, turning his attention to Alex's ass, his fingers kneading, stroking, slipping lower, parting his cheeks gently. One finger, coated with the sweet almond oil, slipping inside him, pushing deeper...deeper still...finding that sensitive spot deep within him, making him gasp and arch off the bed. Flipping Alex over onto his back, Walter had quickly replaced his finger with something larger, taking Alex, pumping deep inside him. Alex's fingers, slick with oil, had sought Fox's cock as Fox bent over him, tonguing his nipples, coaxing gasps and moans from Alex with deft little nibbles, pausing occasionally to bite and lick his way up Alex's collarbone. Alex had caught Fox's face between his hands and brought it up for a kiss, their tongues lapping at one another, sweet and hot. No! Alex shook his head, scrubbed a hand across his face. Forced himself to open his eyes. He looked around at the cell, at the stainless steel sink/toilet bolted in one corner, at the cinderblock walls covered with graffiti. He leaned back against the bars. That's over now. You're just making it worse. This is your world now. He closed his eyes again. He hurt all over. He was so tired. Congratulations, Alex. Life finally hands you a break, you find more happiness than you or anyone else would ever believe you deserve, and you manage to fuck it up. He dropped his head down, sighing softly. Allowed himself to think once more of the big bed he'd woken up in just that morning, that he'd fallen asleep in the night before, his head on Fox's chest, Walter spooned up behind him. The warmest and safest place in the world. A place he'd never be again. The lump in his throat was painful. He swallowed around it, pulled the thin blanket around him, tried to sleep. The cop had told him he would be arraigned in the morning, but he wasn't worried. It didn't matter what happened to him now. Four hours earlier... "Fuck!" Alex swore, pounding the steering wheel for good measure. What was the last thing Walter had said to him before he left the house? "Try not to be late, Alex." Shit. He was more than late. He was supposed to be at the restaurant at seven. It was now quarter to eight and he was still at least fifteen minutes from Georgetown. He hadn't meant to be late. He'd allowed plenty of time, assuring Walter that he could easily make the trip to Richmond, pick up the part for his laptop, and get back to D.C. with time to spare. He hadn't counted on having to wait almost an hour at the store. He hadn't counted on the traffic. And he certainly hadn't counted on the oil light coming on just outside Alexandria, necessitating a stop at the nearest gas station. Damn. He should have left earlier. He should have. Walter was definitely going to have something to say about that, as well as Alex not having checked the oil in the Jeep before undertaking a long drive. Fuck. His ass was toast, without a doubt. Alex gripped the wheel tightly, trying not to panic. He'd never had to deal with this before Walter and Fox. Being accountable. Being responsible. Accepting consequences. He'd fucked up and Walter would definitely punish him for it. Alex forced himself to take a deep breath. His fight or flight instincts were running high and he needed to step back from the situation and think. Yes, he admonished himself, he will punish you. But you earned it. You're lucky to have what you have, Alex Krycek. Before Walter and Fox there was nothing. Now you have not one but two men who love you. And after the lecture, after the spanking, he'll hold you and tell you you're forgiven. He'll tell you he loves you. Walter said it every time. Alex knew it was true, knew that was why Walter wanted so badly for Alex to learn the lessons he was trying to teach. Alex tried to concentrate on that as he deftly changed lanes, not bothering to signal. He ignored the horn blaring behind him and sped up, his eyes scanning the roadside signs intently, looking for his exit. He glanced into the rearview mirror and groaned at the sight of his tousled hair. He looked down at his leather jacket and faded jeans and then at the clock on the dashboard. 7:51. "Shit..." he muttered, trying to smooth his hair with one hand whilst merging onto the exit ramp. There went his plan of stopping by the house for a quick shower and a change of clothes before heading to the restaurant. He was late enough as it was. He could only hope the place wasn't as snooty as its name implied. Besides, he thought hopefully, weren't Fox and Walter always telling him to be himself? That he was just fine the way he was? That they would never try to make him into something he wasn't? He snorted in irritation as a slow-moving minivan blocked his path. He swung smoothly around it and accelerated, trying to make up the few precious minutes he could. He didn't dare go more than ten miles over the limit, though. The last thing he needed was a speeding ticket on top of everything else. He wanted to sit down again sometime this year. He chewed his lip as he drove, deep in thought. He hadn't even wanted to go to the damned dinner. What did he have in common with two upper-class Brits? They were Fox's friends, not his. "Come on, Alex," Walter had said with a smile. "It means a lot to Fox. He really wants us to meet Terrance. And I think it would do you good to meet some new people, socialize a bit more." "I socialize," Alex had protested around a mouthful of cheese and crackers. Walter had folded his arms and arched an eyebrow. "Melvin Frohike's annual Fourth of July blowout does not count," he'd said, not unkindly. "I mean it'll do you good to meet some new people. I think you'll have a good time if you just relax and be yourself." Walter had taken Alex into his arms and kissed him soundly. "Fox wants us to meet his friend because he wants to show us off, Rat," he said with a laugh. "He's proud of us." He leaned forward. "I think," he said conspiratorially, "that he wants to make him jealous." Alex had laughed, unable to resist the twinkle in Walter's brown eyes, but still felt a sense of unease even as he agreed to attend. Fox had been excited ever since he'd gotten the call from Terrance letting him know he and Ian would be passing through D.C. He'd talked of practically nothing else for the entire week. He'd helped Alex choose just the right suit for the occasion. The suit which was now several miles away at home, in the master bedroom, laid neatly out on the foot of the bed. Alex remembered Fox chattering, well, as close as Fox ever came to chattering, about his old days at Oxford and how much he was looking forward to the dinner. "You'll like him, Alex," he'd said, rummaging through Alex's ties and emerging with a handful of jade green silk. "Terrance is smart and funny, too. He's got that whole dry British wit thing going on. I've never met his partner, Ian, but Terrance goes on and on about him. You'll have a good time." Alex had nodded and smiled, but he hadn't been so sure. It was just after eight when Alex pulled into the parking lot of La Basque. He cut the engine and sat there for a moment, trying to collect himself. Over an hour late. Fuck! Fox was going to be furious. And Walter... Alex gulped. He knew what Walter would do. There would be a long talk about responsibility, punctuality and keeping one's cellphone properly charged at all times. Walter would then make sure the more salient points of the talk were remembered by shifting his focus from Alex's ears to a point farther south. Alex looked guiltily at the cellphone on the passenger seat next to him. He'd meant to charge it. He really had. He'd just forgotten. He hadn't realized it was dead until he'd flipped it open to call Walter and let him know he'd be late. Alex sighed. Better get it over with before they came out and found him sitting there in the parking lot. La Basque, to Alex's dismay, was one of Georgetown's most tony eateries. Well-coiffed patrons dined on fine china placed on cream-colored linen tablecloths. Poised, well-trained staff moved gracefully about bearing trays of beautifully prepared foods and fine wines. The tastefully muted lighting allowed the candles burning on every table to suffuse the room with a golden glow, reflected in the delicate crystal goblets from which the guests drank. The maitre'd looked Alex up and down with a horrified expression, as though he expected Alex to pull out a Saturday night special and rob the place. Alex ignored him and strode into the dining room, trying to affect an air of confidence. It was bad enough that he was late and dressed in jeans and boots, he didn't want to further the bad impression by approaching the table like a man walking to his execution. Alex stood beside the table. "I'm sorry I'm so late," he said sheepishly. "Where's Walter?" He felt his stomach drop to his boots as Fox looked up, his expression one of cold fury. "He's in the bar, trying to call your cellphone. Where the hell have you been?" Alex gripped the back of the chair in front of him but didn't dare sit. He didn't think he'd ever seen Fox look so angry before, not since...not since they'd begun to live their lives together. Alex stole a look at the two slender men sitting across the table from Fox. Terrance and Ian, he presumed. They were both tweedy, bespectacled types with pale blond hair. The smaller one stared at Alex with raised eyebrows, a definite smirk playing about the corner of his mouth. Alex looked down, truly ashamed for embarrassing Fox in front of his friends. "I...I'm sorry, Fox. And I apologize to you gentlemen as well," he added, knowing Walter would want him to say it. Terrance and Ian sipped their drinks and smiled in their superior way. Alex felt a hot flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. "I didn't mean to be late. The Jeep—" Fox cut him off cold, his tone biting. His eyes raked over Alex's disreputable appearance with obvious disgust. "Civilized people know how to use a telephone, Alex." The smaller of the Brits—Terrance, Ian, who the fuck could tell—began to chuckle, sliding his glasses down his nose to take a better look at Alex. Alex fumed under the blatant appraisal, but said nothing. The Brit laughed and nudged Fox. "Well, old boy, looks to me like this one isn't quite tamed yet." With that, he fell about laughing, oblivious to the disapproving look his partner was giving him. Alex felt the rage building as the Brit snickered at him, his eyes mocking and haughty. Tamed. Like an animal. Like a half-wild thing that needed to be leashed and broken, trained to the bit. That's what he looked like to them. The Brit stopped laughing when Alex grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up out of his chair. "Jesus, Alex, stop it!" Fox hissed, standing up and tugging at Alex's arm. "Let him go!" The Brit emitted an undignified squawk as Alex shook him soundly. Beads of sweat began to stand out on the man's forehead as he saw Alex's other hand curl into a fist. Alex had never wanted to hit anyone so badly in his life. The man who twisted fruitlessly in his grip represented everything he wasn't, had everything Alex had never had. Money. A good family. A good education. It was he who belonged in Fox's world, not Alex. He was more intelligent. More sophisticated. More...everything. Alex trembled with anger, ignoring Fox's urgent pleas to let the man go. He raised his fist, wanting to obliterate that mocking smirk for good. To show them he wasn't some thing to be judged and ridiculed. The Brit moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, babbling helplessly. Alex gave into the rage and swung with everything he had. His fist met flesh with a resounding whack. But there was no blood, no bones crunching under the force of the blow. There was only solid warmth, resistance. Alex looked up in surprise, feeling Walter's fingers curl around his fist and hold it, gently but firmly. "Alex," Walter said calmly. "Let him go. Now." Alex looked at Walter for a long moment and then obeyed. The Brit scuttled back to his chair on shaking legs. "Walter?" Alex whispered, dazed by what he had almost done. Fox looked at him in disgust, then turned to his friend, attempting to calm the terrified man. Terrance and Ian were both looking at Alex as though he were a rabid dog who could attack again any minute. Alex looked helplessly at Walter, then realized that all activity in the restaurant had stopped. Everyone in the dining room was staring at him in abject horror. The patrons gaped at him, their eyes wide, their mouths moving as they whispered to one another in alarm. Alex heard nothing except the pounding of his own heart. He looked at Fox again, at the angry set of his jaw as he pointedly ignored Alex, leaning across the Brit as though to shield him from further attack. The other Brit looked at Alex, his lip curled in disgust, as though Fox had promised to show them his pet Rottweiler, only to have it turn on them and try to bite them. Alex felt their eyes on him, all of them. He looked down at himself, at his beloved, battered leather jacket, his old jeans, his shitkicker boots. He knew what he looked like. He looked like what he was, what he had always been. Something that all the domestication in the world couldn't change. A thug. A criminal. A killer. Alex bolted from the restaurant, nearly knocking over a waiter who made the mistake of getting in his way. He heard Walter shouting after him as he jumped into the Jeep, slammed the door and jammed the key into the ignition. He left rubber on the pavement as he peeled out, the pedal mashed to the floor. He bit his lip as he drove, unconsciously rocking back and forth in the seat, cursing himself under his breath all the while. Fucking idiot, Alex, you blew it, you blew it, you fucked it all up, it's over, it's over... He drove as fast as he could, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the disaster he'd created as he could. Fuck the speeding ticket. Who'd care now? He didn't think about where he was going. He just tried to block out the memory of what he'd done, what he'd lost. Images bombarded him, unstoppable. The kitchen at home—not your home now, he reminded himself cruelly—the warm, sunlit room they all seemed to gravitate to, Walter with his coffee, Fox taking his turn at the dishes, slinging water everywhere. The two of them turning and smiling as Alex came in, drawing him close, Fox's wet hands on his waist, Walter's strong arms surrounding them both. The three of them in bed. Walter, his brown eyes so warm. So gentle for such a big man, stroking Alex's hair, keeping the nightmares away. Fox, spooned up behind Alex, comforting him, whispering his love. Christmas morning, a roomful of presents, Walter and Fox laughing, their voices ringing in his ears as they pulled him into bed, ravishing him, making him theirs all over again. Walter's voice, stern but loving, trying to teach and guide, never wavering in his belief that an ex-assassin could truly change, could truly begin life over again if only he was loved enough. His hands, hard when he punished Alex, his own eyes shining with tears. So soft when they soothed and comforted him. The circle Walter's arms made around him, a place all his own, safe and warm and forgiving. A rough sob escaped Alex and he scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand. Gone, gone, all gone. You fucked up, Ratboy. You threw it all away. He turned onto a dimly lit street in downtown Washington, driving mechanically, his eyes fixed blankly on the road ahead. Gravitating instinctively to the world he'd left behind. He willed the memories away, tried to make his mind blank. White noise. Don't think about them now. He was a little surprised that the bar was still there. He felt almost pathetically glad to see it. He needed something familiar, someplace he belonged. This place, a sinister-looking hole in the wall in the old Russian neighborhood, sandwiched between a massage parlor and a pawn shop, was the closest thing he had to that now. He parked the Jeep in the alley behind the dilapidated brick building, unsurprised that he'd ended up here. He had been a frequent visitor in the bad old days when he was still in the Consortium, sitting in the shadows, his back to the wall, drinking away the memory of the day's horrors. He'd spent more than one Christmas Day here, glad for the absence of gold tinsel and false cheer. But that had been before. Before Walter and Fox. He swallowed hard, pausing as he reached for the door handle, his own reflection staring back at him from the window, painted black from the inside. His relief was rapidly being eroded by a nagging feeling of guilt. Not supposed to be here This was a place from his old life, from the time before, with a rough reputation and an even rougher clientele. This was the past. He suppressed the almost automatic urge to look over his shoulder, his backside tingling irritatingly as it always did when he was about to do something Wrong. He allowed himself a small, sad chuckle as he opened the door. There was no Wrong anymore. No consequences, no punishment, no love. He was alone. The bar was just as he remembered it. This was not one of those quintessentially American "bars", with their generic lighted signs, exposed brick and brass. There were no potted plants, no whimiscal coasters, no conversations about sports and women. This place existed in the shadows, as did its patrons. This was not a place for casual conversation. Alex felt slightly nervous and instinctively felt behind him for the Glock he carried in the small of his back. He paused imperceptibly and cursed under his breath. Had carried. He hadn't worn the holster in nearly two years. Walter forbade weapons, it was...had been one of his most unshakeable rules. Fuck. He took a look around at the mostly empty room, glad it was still early and there were only a few men scattered amongst the scarred tables and chairs. One man sat hunched at the bar, obviously more interested in his drink than in the newcomer standing in the doorway. Alex approached the bar, glad to see that the bartender was one he remembered. A taciturn man who had always remembered Alex's favorite drink, who didn't try to make conversation when it wasn't wanted, who seemed to understand when the quiet young man in the black leather jacket needed to be left alone. "Pavel," Alex said quietly. The bartender looked at him, surprise flickering quickly over his stoic features. Alex wondered how genuine the surprise was. Pavel would have seen him come in, would have watched his every move from the moment he opened the door. "Long time," Pavel said simply in his heavily accented English. Alex nodded, choosing a seat at the end of the bar so that he could sit with his back to the wall. He had a clear view of the door and relaxed slightly. "Do you still keep a supply?" Alex asked, gesturing toward the bar. Pavel favored him with a rare smile, exposing his crooked teeth. "Da," he said, reaching down under the bar and holding up a bottle. "Always I remember you ask for this. I still keep a bottle or two." "How did you know I'd be back?" Pavel stared at Alex for a long moment, his craggy face solemn. "Always you come back," he said finally. Alex watched as Pavel poured the dark liquid into a glass and pushed it to him, then walked away to the other end of the bar and began stacking glasses. Alex was grateful for the solitude. He held the glass in his hands, warming the inky black liquor, inhaling deeply of the familiar aroma. The first sip burned all the way down, warming him. Ussuriyskiy balzam was all but impossible to get in the States, but Pavel had always kept a bottle around for him. Alex drained the glass and poured another, nodding his thanks at Pavel for leaving the bottle. He looked down, swirling the balzam in the glass as he warmed it, smiling ruefully. "I'm not drinking, I'm healing myself." He whispered the old Russian saying, the taste of berries and herbs on his tongue, reminding him of a cafe on a narrow street in Vladivostok, the old men bickering over games of cards, rain spattering the leaded glass windows. He raised the glass again, savoring the heat spreading in his gut. It had been a long time since he had tasted balzam, but he hadn't forgotten the healing powers of 90 proof alcohol. They didn't call it Siberian Prozac for nothing. Always you come back Pavel's words rang in Alex's ears. He closed his eyes, pushing away the thoughts of Fox and Walter that threatened to crowd in. Pavel was right, after all, and so were Fox's fancy friends. It was inevitable, of course. He'd tried to change, tried to learn, but as with any wild animal, domestication was temporary at best. He'd been a fool to think he belonged there in that house, with those two extraordinary men, to think that he could learn to be like them, to be good, to be loved. He tried to chase away the maudlin thoughts with another glass of balzam, his hand shaking a little as he poured, making the bottle clink against the glass. He ran a hand through his hair, rubbed his tired eyes. What would he do now? Where would he go? He kept one eye on the door, having already given the other patrons the once over. He just had to hope none of Spender's men who might remember him decided to step in for a cold one. He allowed himself one more thought of the life he'd loved, but which had never really been his. One more memory of warm brown eyes, of strong arms. Of hazel eyes lit from within, of long legs wrapped around him. He gritted his teeth against the pain, remembering something one of his foster mothers had liked to say when he'd done something she didn't like, which was pretty much everything. "Water seeks its own level," she'd say, eyeing him with disdain. Maybe she was right after all, because here he was, right back where he'd started. He'd been a liar, a killer, a thief and a spy as long as he could remember. The last couple of years had been a beautiful dream but a dream all the same. He felt himself shutting down, becoming numb. All he wanted now was to be left alone. He was on his fourth glass of balzam when even that was taken from him. Alex was reaching for the bottle when a hand dropped heavily onto his shoulder. He looked up sharply, his eyes narrowing, his assassin's instincts roaring to life through the alcoholic fog. It was too late. They were already crowding close. He cursed himself inwardly for having let himself get so soft, so slow. Three years of regular meals, hot showers and contentment had made him complacent. He'd lost his edge. There was a time when no one could have gotten close enough to spit on him, let alone touch him. Alex looked down at the hand on his shoulder, then back up at its owner, a tall, wiry man with a greasy blond ponytail. "You want to keep that?" The man's grin did nothing to help his looks. He held up his hands in a gesture of mock conciliation. "Whoa there, pretty boy," he sneered, winking at his companion, a shorter, heavier man with a dark beard. "We just wanted to say hello." Alex snorted and went back to his drink. "You said it. Now get the fuck out of here." The blond leaned close, his breath hot on Alex's ear, his rank body odor settling around them like a cloud. "Aw, come on now, pretty boy. Don't be like that." He glanced at the bottle sitting on the bar. He leaned a little closer, his mouth almost touching Alex's ear. "Does your Daddy know you're drinking the hard stuff, sweet thing?" Alex stood up quickly, kicking the barstool out of his way. His eyes spat fire. "I said get the fuck out of here, asshole. And take your fat friend with you." The shorter man's face darkened with anger. He mumbled something under his breath only to be waved silent by the blond. The blond stepped closer to Alex, holding his hands up again placatingly. He wore a hideous mockery of a smile. "Don't worry, pretty boy. We won't hurt you. Not unless you want us to." The syrupy, condescending tone of his voice made Alex want to throttle him. And if the son of a bitch got any closer, he would. "Look," Alex snapped, growling menacingly. "For the last time, get the fuck out of here. Now. Jerk each other off or scrape your pennies together and buy a whore. Touch me again and I'll rip your fucking hand off and feed it to you." He glanced behind him, but Pavel had disappeared. Shit! He bared his teeth as the blond, obviously slow to grasp new concepts, moved closer still. "Hey, come on, man," he said, in a crude attempt to charm Alex. "Shit, we didn't mean nothin'. Let us buy you a drink." Alex stared at him in disbelief. His eyes glittered with rage. "Fuck you," he spat. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Do I look like a hustler to you? What the fuck makes you think you can put your hands on me?" He stepped closer to the blond, getting into his personal space. "The smartest thing you can do," he hissed, "is walk out that door. Now. Or so help me, I'll tear your fucking throat out." The blond regarded him for a long moment. Slowly, he moved forward, nearly touching Alex, clearly taking up the challenge. "Oh, you're not fooling me, little boy," he sneered, his thick lips parting to reveal brown teeth. "I've been watching you ever since you came in. Pretty boy in black leather...fucking tease. Yeah, I know exactly what you need. Same thing they all need. And I'm just the man to give it to you." He leered at Alex, his grimy hand caressing the bulge in his jeans. Suddenly, he shot a hand out and grabbed Alex by the back of the neck. His mouth was wet against Alex's ear. "Gonna fuck you so hard, pretty boy..." Alex snarled and drove his fist into the man's solar plexus, following it up with a kick as the man gasped and bent double. Alex's boot connected with the blond's face with a sickening crack and the man went down, blood streaming from his nose. Suddenly Alex was grabbed from behind in an iron grip, the stocky man's arms locked around him. Alex struggled fiercely but what he had mistaken for fat seemed instead to be solid muscle. Alex was unable to raise his arms to break the man's grip so he settled instead for stomping on the man's foot, glad he was wearing his heavy boots. The man howled in anguish but still did not relinquish his hold on Alex. Limping and swearing, he managed to drag a spitting, cursing Alex to the door. Alex fought the larger man with all his strength, taking note as he did that the bar's few other patrons had vanished. Places like this did not exactly invite people with great concern for their fellow man, and the regulars here did not relish an encounter with the authorities. Short and stocky muscled the door open with one broad shoulder and dragged Alex into the alley. He threw Alex roughly face down over a battered garbage can and wrenched one arm up behind his back. Alex gasped in pain and bucked wildly, trying to throw the man off, but he had no leverage. The man gave Alex's arm a savage yank, using his other hand to grab a handful of Alex's hair. "You're gonna pay for that, pretty boy," the man growled. "Gonna have to hurt you good." "Fuck you," Alex gasped. "Nah," the man leered. "I pitch, I don't catch. And you're about to catch plenty, wildcat." He released Alex's hair and snaked his hand between Alex's legs, giving his balls a painful squeeze through the denim. Alex bit back a scream. He tried to kick backward and break the man's kneecaps, but the man just grunted and moved closer, pinning Alex's legs between his own and the garbage can. Alex twisted uselessly in the stocky man's grip as he felt stubby fingers reaching around beneath him, fumbling for his zipper. He reared back as far as he could, to try to look his assailant in the face. "Get the fuck off me! I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!" He was suddenly slapped with stunning force. Pain exploded in his cheek and eye socket. He felt something sticky on his face. Dazed, Alex raised his head to see the blond standing there, wobbling slightly, one bloodied hand cupped over his ruined nose. "You broag by dose, you little fug," the blond complained in a nasal honk. "I'be gonna bake you pay." "Oh yeah," the stocky man leered, struggling to yank Alex's jeans down over his hips. "He's gonna pay all right. We're gonna take it out of that sweet ass of his." Alex tried to keep struggling as much as his limited range of motion would allow, trying to buy himself some time. The feel of the man's thick fingers sliding under the waistband of his jeans made his skin crawl. He grunted as the blond's blood-sticky fingers grasped his jaw painfully, digging in. The blond leaned over Alex, his stringy blond hair, loose from its ponytail and matted with blood, hanging in Alex's face. "You fugging little slut. I'be gonna show you what happens to bad boys who don't play nice." Alex fought back panic as the blond grabbed the wrist the stocky man had been holding pinned against Alex's back and wrenched it even higher. The stocky man, both hands now freed, resumed tugging roughly at Alex's jeans. Alex knew that within seconds he would be naked and vulnerable, helpless to stop the assault. -Oh God Walter need you need you help don't want this don't want them please- Alex took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to regain control. Think, Alex. His heart pounding, knowing this was his only chance, Alex forced himself to relax, to stop fighting. He turned his head and looked up at the blond, who was glaring at him malevolently. Showtime. "Okay, okay," Alex gasped hoarsely, letting a fearful quiver creep into his voice. "Don't hurt me. You don't have to hurt me." The soft snick of the switchblade opening was loud in the eerily quiet alley. The blond grinned as he waved the blade back and forth in front of Alex's face, turning it this way and that so it glinted in the moonlight. "Oh, but we want to," he sneered. "We would have just fucked you, pretty boy, but now you've pissed us off. Now we're gonna have to teach you a lesson." Alex flinched and whimpered. "Please..." he whispered, trembling violently. "Don't, please." The stocky man stepped back momentarily, his eyes glazed with pleasure, devouring Alex's fear with obvious relish. He licked his lips at the sight of the little punk lying prone over the trash can, his jeans barely clinging to his ass, so invitingly raised. Fondling himself through his trousers, he laughed mockingly as those pretty green eyes widened with panic. "Just look at the little shit. Not talking so big now, is he?" he growled to his companion, his eyes glittering with malice. "We'd better get those jeans off him before he pisses them." Alex took this opportunity to slide bonelessly to the ground beside the trash can. He was kneeling in a pool of something foul and fought back the urge to gag at the stench. He cradled his arm gingerly. It was sore but definitely still serviceable, information best kept to himself for the moment. He made a show of trying to move it, pretending to bite back a cry of pain. He looked up at them pleadingly, rocking slightly on his knees, his eyes darting nervously from one to the other, satisfied that he had their undivided attention. "Please," he repeated desperately, "please don't hurt me. I'll do whatever you want, just please don't hurt me." The blond laughed humorlessly and aimed a savage kick at Alex, who huddled in on himself and whimpered again. "Whatsa matter?" the blond hissed. "Did the little boy get more than he bargained for? Your mouth writing checks your ass can't cash?" Short and stocky laughed at that and stepped closer to Alex, who wrapped one arm around himself and bit his lip, watching the man looming over him with terrified eyes. "You punks are all the same," the stocky man sneered disgustedly. "You think you can get by with black leather and an attitude. Talk tough, shoot your mouth off, maybe get your ass slapped a couple of times before you get fucked." He leaned down and put his face close to Alex's. "Is that what you like? Huh, pretty boy? You like a little rough trade?" Alex shuddered and shook his head no, begging with his eyes. The stocky man grabbed him by the collar and shook him roughly. "Yeah, you like that, don't you? You like it rough, you little whore? Well, you came to the right place. Only my buddy and me, we don't play games with little boys. We're the real deal. Ain't that right, Jerzy?" The blond cackled gleefully, his eyes glittering madly in the moonlight. "Oh yeah," he purred, hard as a rock from the sight of the tears in the punk's eyes. "Gonna fuck you raw, boy." He slapped Alex again, hard enough to rock his head back. Alex forced himself to remain still, to take it. His torn lip throbbed and flooded his mouth with the taste of copper. The blond continued, enjoying the sight of the blood on Alex's chin. "If you scream real good for us, boy, we just might let you live. But," he gestured toward his bloodied nose, "I owe you for this, you little shit. You fucked up my face and for that I'm gonna hurt you bad." Alex rose up on his knees a little, frantically searching his captors' faces. He cringed back against the brick wall behind him and began to plead, his voice shaking. "Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he choked, sobbing convincingly. "Please let me make it up to you. Please?" He turned his face up to the blond, knowing he was risking another harsh blow. The blond cocked his head, watching Alex coldly, but unable to hide the curiosity glittering in his eyes. "Please," Alex begged, shuffling forward on his knees. He licked his lips and looked longingly at the men's crotches before dropping his eyes submissively. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm not...I've never been to a place like this before. Please," he looked up into the stocky man's face. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I'm sorry. Let me show you how sorry I am. Okay? Please let me." Short and stocky considered this, raising an eyebrow meaningfully at his companion. He looked down at Alex with a smirk. "You want to show us how sorry you are, little boy?" Alex nodded emphatically. "Please," he whined pathetically. "Please let me suck you. I'm real good. Best you've ever had, I swear it." The stocky man grinned cruelly. "You think that's gonna make us go easy on you? Is that it, you little shit? You think we're gonna let you go after?" He stooped down and grasped Alex's chin in one meaty paw, squeezing hard. "Well, forget it. You ain't gonna sweet talk your way out of this. Jerzy and me, we're gonna bend you over and give you what you've got coming. And then," he paused and gave a short, brutal laugh, "we're gonna make sure you learn your lesson, little boy. Nobody does what you did to us and gets away with it." The blond laughed and gestured with the switchblade, bringing it close to Alex's face again. Alex whimpered and tried to pull away but the stocky man held him fast. "Maybe I'll cut that pretty face of yours up," the blond growled, passing the knife before terrified green eyes. "Make sure you don't forget us, sweet thing." "You shoulda just played nice," the stocky man lectured Alex, releasing his jaw and shoving him hard enough to knock him off his knees. "You shoulda just given it up easy. Now," he grinned, unzipping his own pants, "we're gonna make you wish you had." Alex clambered back up on his knees, still favoring the sore arm, and held his hands up in supplication. "Please," he whispered, his eyes searching their faces desperately, "I...I know I'm caught, okay? There's two of you and you're stronger than me." He looked down, his cheeks burning with shame. "It's not a trick, I swear. Please believe me." He looked up, fighting back tears. "I know you're going to fuck me. You're...you're going to hurt me and there's nothing I can do about it. I know I've got it coming. I should never have tried to take you guys on. I...I was stupid. I got in over my head." He looked down again, slumping as though exhausted. "I'm sorry. I'm just scared, man. I just want to get out of here alive. I'll do anything you want, anything you say. Just please don't kill me." Alex sensed rather than saw the look that passed between his two assailants. They were his. He looked up into the stocky man's eyes, noting the way he had his hand inside his pants, absently stroking himself as he watched Alex plead for his life. Alex rose up on his knees, licked his lips again. "I'm sorry," he said again, softly. "Please believe me. Please let me prove it to you." Short and stocky glanced at the blond, who was bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, his eyes riveted on Alex. The stocky man grabbed Alex by the hair with one hand, jerked his own pants and underwear down with the other. His fat, purple cock jutted out, inches from Alex's face. Alex fought the urge to turn away. Look eager, Alex, he reminded himself. Play the game for a few more seconds. "So, you wanna use that pretty mouth of yours for something besides getting yourself in deep shit, little boy?" the stocky man sneered. Alex nodded, letting another sob escape him to seal the deal. "Yes," he said, looking up fearfully. "I'm good, I swear, just like I said. You'll come like never before, I promise." The stocky man yanked Alex's hair, curling his fingers in it. He leaned down, almost nose to nose with the kneeling man. "Just remember," he snarled. "If I even think I feel teeth, they'll have to identify you by your fucking DNA. You got that, punk?" Alex cringed and nodded as much as the man's hold on his hair would allow. "I promise," he whispered, "I promise it'll be good. The best, I swear it." "It'd better be," the stocky man said truculently. "Now suck me. It had better be the best fucking blowjob I ever got in my life. Whether you go to the hospital or the morgue from here depends on it." "And save some of that sugar for me, pretty boy," the blond taunted, waving the switchblade. "Because as soon as you're done with him, it's my turn." Alex swallowed hard and nodded. His sore arm hung limply by his side. He leaned forward, noting the way the stocky man's eyes closed in anticipation. They didn't stay closed for long. Knowing he only had one chance, Alex moved with brutal swiftness. The frightened, pleading expression he had worn transformed into one of barely controlled ferocity as he wrapped one hand around the stocky man's cock and the other around his balls and twisted, as though wringing out a cloth. The stocky man let out a blood curdling scream and collapsed, clutching his wounded genitals. The blond bellowed with rage and lunged at Alex. Alex, staying low to the ground, swept his leg around and knocked the blond off his feet. The switchblade clattered to the ground. Before the blond could get up, Alex was on top of him. Bloody hands wrapped around Alex's neck and he twisted away, trying to keep his airway open, while at the same time pounding his fist into the other man's face. The blond managed to get in a solid shot to Alex's jaw, momentarily stunning him enough to enable his opponent to get the upper hand. Alex found himself on his back, the blond swinging wildly at him. One of the blond's fists connected with Alex's split lip and Alex cursed as fresh blood ran down his chin. Alex was barely aware of the piteous moaning coming from the stocky man, who was lying curled around himself a few feet away. The blond's face, contorted with fury, loomed above him as he again tried to strangle Alex, pressing his thumbs against Alex's windpipe. Alex began to gray out, straining for oxygen. In one last, desperate effort, he summoned his last reserves of strength and slammed the heel of his hand into the blond's nose. It was a lethal maneuver, intended as such, and only the man's last-second attempt to dodge it saved his life. He howled in anguish, clutching his nose as a renewed freshet of blood poured through his fingers. Alex threw the man face down on the pavement and grabbed two handfuls of stringy blond hair. His knee on the man's back, he began to slam his head against the ground, trying to knock him unconscious. He didn't see the stocky man crawling unsteadily toward him on his hands and knees, clutching the switchblade. The blond continued to struggle. Alex climbed astride him and gave him another brutal headslam. The blond groaned and finally went limp. Alex turned just in time to see the glint of metal as the switchblade slashed down toward him. There was a loud crash as a chair shattered over the stocky man's head, dropping him where he knelt. Alex looked up in shock. Pavel stood, half in shadow, the remnants of the chair in his hands. He looked down at Alex, his face suddenly bathed in red and blue as a police car screeched to a stop at the mouth of the alley. One of the cops approached Alex with his gun drawn. "Stay on your knees!" he shouted. "Hands on your head and interlock your fingers. Now!" Alex obeyed, staring numbly ahead while the cop quickly frisked him and cuffed his hands behind his back. The other cop made a quick check of the two men lying unconscious in the alleyway. "We're gonna need an ambulance for these two." The cop seated Alex in the back of the patrol car and shut the door. Alex peered through the window, watching as the two cops leaned over the two men on the ground and spoke rapidly into their radios. Alex blinked, trying to see more clearly in the dim light of the alley. Once again, Pavel had vanished. Alex dozed fitfully, huddled in one corner of the metal cot. He stirred and murmured a little as he dreamt of home, of Fox's soulful hazel eyes, of Walter's arms around him. Walter's voice calling his name, shaping it into something hushed and beautiful. "Alex." Alex made a faint noise deep in his throat and burrowed deeper into the thin jail-issue blanket. "Alex." Alex hovered between sleep and wakefulness, visions of his two lost lovers swimming before his closed eyes, knowing even as he watched them, smiling and reaching out to him, that they were just shadows of what once was. Ghosts of a life that had never truly been his, merely borrowed for a time. They were so close, Walter's hands. If he could only reach far enough, he could touch them. "Alex!" Walter's AD voice. What place did it have in this beautiful dream? Only a moment before his shadow lover had been whispering, laughing, murmuring his love. What had Alex done to anger him? Surely he wouldn't lose this too, this past-Walter who still loved him, still beckoned to him. Reluctantly, Alex opened his eyes, not wanting to leave his dream, not wanting to come back to this cold and empty world. "Alex!" Alex sat up, his eyes wide and disbelieving, his breath frozen in his throat. Walter stood outside Alex's cell, gripping the bars as though he wanted to pull them apart with his bare hands. Alex's mouth worked for a moment before any sound came out. He rubbed roughly at bloodshot eyes, still unable to believe that Walter was really there. "W-Walter?" he croaked, his voice barely a whisper. Alex's mind raced dizzily, overcome with fear and relief and hope and anguish. -He looked for me, he found me, to say goodbye or to bring me home? Oh God oh God please let him still want me- His heart pounding, Alex desperately searched Walter's face, seeking what lay behind those pained brown eyes, those large, white-knuckled hands clutching the steel bars. Keys jingled as the old cop stepped forward, unlocked Alex's cell door and opened it. "You're free to go," the cop said. "The DA's office dropped the charges against you." Alex looked at the cop in surprise. Had Walter done this? Had he used his position at the Bureau to get Alex released? Alex felt his stomach lurch sickeningly. Oh God, Walter, he thought. Please say you didn't, please say you didn't have to compromise yourself to try to save me. If I did that to you, made you do something like that...Alex looked up anxiously. The cop saw the questioning expression on Alex's face and continued, his tone gentle. "Those two lowlifes who attacked you were taken to St. Mary's. Once they came to, they gave the officers false names, assaulted an ER nurse and took off." Alex sat quietly, looking much younger than his years as he absently rubbed his sore cheekbone. A spectacular bruise was forming, yellowish green under the fluorescent lights. The old cop watched him thoughtfully. The kid looked shocky, out of it, no surprise considering what he'd been through. After 29 years on the D.C. police force, the cop had thought he'd heard it all. That was before the quiet, pallid Russian man had appeared at the Sergeant's desk and proceeded to give a dispassionate but meticulously detailed statement describing what had actually happened. The kid was lucky to be alive, by the sound of it. "The bartender gave a complete statement," the cop told Alex quietly. "We know what happened. We're sorry you had to get locked up, kid, but the responding officers had no way of knowing—" "Pavel?" Alex said incredulously, his eyes huge in his pale face. "Pavel was here?" The cop nodded. Alex shook his head in disbelief. Pavel, who would change the channel on the bar's tiny television when a policeman appeared on the screen. His eyes filled with tears. That was twice tonight that Pavel had saved him. "He, uh, had a message for you," the cop said. "He said to tell you he's out of your usual drink and that he ain't gonna be able to get any more. Said to tell you it's no good for you anyway." Alex smiled and nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Make that three times. "Take care, kid," the cop said. "See the Desk Sergeant for your personal effects on your way out." He walked away, leaving the cell door open. Walter stepped inside and crossed the cell in a few rapid strides. "Alex," he said again, his voice shaking with emotion. "I...I've been searching for you all night. I can't believe I finally found you." Alex stood unsteadily, trembling with the effort. His joints had become stiff and sore as he slept, and his muscles ached after the pounding they had taken in the alley. He looked at Walter, his eyes naked and vulnerable, lacking even the energy to try to keep his defenses up. "Walter..." he said uncertainly. Alex stumbled and was immediately swept into Walter's strong arms. Walter held Alex tightly, stroking his hair with a shaking hand. "Alex, Alex, thank God," Walter choked, tears welling in his eyes. "I was afraid I'd never see you again. Oh God, Alex, don't ever leave us again." Alex clung to Walter, his head against the broad chest, the starched linen of the white shirt crisp against his cheek, Walter's rapid heartbeat loud in his ear. "Walter," Alex whispered again, still scarcely able to believe that Walter was here, in the cell at the precinct house, holding him, his breath on Alex's cheek, his voice in Alex's ear. Afraid if he clung too tightly that he might disappear, that this shadow lover come to life might vanish back into the bittersweet world of Alex's dreams. Alex raised his head, opened his mouth to speak. "Walter, I—" he broke off, his eyes suddenly riveted on Walter's shirtfront. As Walter had held him, some of the dirt and grime on Alex's jacket had rubbed off on him, leaving a broad black smear across the previously spotless white linen. Wordlessly, Alex traced it with a shaking hand. He raised his wide horrified eyes to Walter's, his hand pressed to Walter's chest. "Oh God—" he choked. "I'm so sorry, Walter." Alex backed away woodenly, his hand moving to his mouth seemingly of its own will, his eyes traveling sadly from Walter's impeccably polished shoes, to his neatly pressed trousers and topcoat, to his perfectly knotted tie. Looked down at himself, at the dirty boots, the ripped, bloodstained jeans, the battered, filthy leather jacket. Alex's nose wrinkled. He could smell himself, an unsavory combination of sweat, blood and the liquified garbage that had stained his clothes as he knelt in the alley pleading for his life. He swallowed hard, his dry throat making a tiny clicking noise. He looked back at Walter, seeing himself as he surely was, a thug and a degenerate. Seeing Walter, a good and noble man, every inch the AD, save for the ugly black smear that stood out on his white dress shirt like an accusation. Tears sprang to Alex's eyes. If he continued to make himself Walter's responsibility, his albatross, he would be a blight on Walter's life, as surely as the one he had placed on that flawless white shirt. "Alex?" Walter stepped a little closer, his expression puzzled. "What is it?" He followed Alex's sad eyes downward, then raised his head in surprise. "Aw, Alex, don't worry about it," Walter said, waving his hand dismissively. He continued, mistaking the true cause of Alex's disconsolate expression. Why in hell was Alex so upset over a damned shirt? "My shirt is the last thing on my mind right now. I can buy a hundred shirts. The important thing right now is you." Alex stared at Walter for a moment longer, his every impulse obviously screaming at him to fling himself into Walter's arms and never leave them again. He visibly held himself back, gritting his teeth at the almost physical pain of resisting the thing he wanted most in the world, the safety and security of Walter's love. He raised mournful green eyes to Walter, raising his hands in an almost supplicating gesture. "I...I can't, Walter," he whispered, his tone that of one who has lost all hope. "I tried so hard, but I just can't." Walter inched closer, not wanting to spook his obviously distraught lover. "Can't what, Alex?" Walter asked gently. "Talk to me." Alex backed away until he felt the cold cinderblock wall behind him. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, obviously exhausted. "I can't do it, Walter," he said, his voice thin and tired. "I can't be what you want me to be. What I want me to be." Walter sat down on the cot and let his hands dangle between his knees. He looked up at Alex, worry and fear and frustration gnawing at him. All he wanted to do at that moment was take Alex in his arms, get him home, make everything all right again. But he knew his Rat was scared, ready to bolt again. Slow and easy would do it. He had to be patient in order to overcome whatever flimsy argument Alex had thought up this time to convince himself that he was just a burden on Walter and Fox and that they would be better off without him. Then he could get him home again, where he belonged. "What do you think we want you to be, Alex?" Alex swallowed again, opened his eyes and looked down at the scuffed floor of the holding cell. He was silent for a long while. "Good," he said finally, his voice barely audible. "Like you. Like Fox." He choked back a sob. "I tried to learn, I tried so hard, Walter, but I fucked up, I fucked it all up and I'm sorry." Alex looked up, his once lively green eyes now hollow and bleak. "I'm sorry," Alex whispered again. "You tried hard too, Walter. You worked so hard. You never gave up on me." Walter met Alex's gaze evenly. "So what makes you think I'm going to give up on you now?" Alex slid slowly to the floor, drawing his knees up. He fiddled with the ripped denim over one bruised and abraded knee, picking absently at the dried blood there. He stared at the floor as he spoke, too ashamed to meet Walter's eyes. "At the restaurant," he said softly. "Fox's friend...the one who laughed at me..." Alex paused, trying to keep his emotions under control. "I was going to hurt him, Walter. I was going to hurt him bad." "I know," Walter said quietly. Alex wiped his eyes angrily with the back of one hand. "If you hadn't stopped me..." he trailed off, unwilling to give voice to the fate the Brit had narrowly escaped. "But I did," Walter insisted, his tone at once firm yet gentle. "No one got hurt." Alex snorted in frustration. "But what if you hadn't been there?" he asked desperately, finally raising his eyes once again. "What if—" Walter leaned forward, his expression intense. "The important thing is that I was there. I am always there for you." His tone softened and he slid down a little on the cot, closing the distance between himself and Alex. "Being a good person isn't about being perfect, Alex. Good people make mistakes." Alex considered this sadly, wincing at the memory of the terrified man, of the look of revulsion on Fox's face. His face burned with shame at the memory. "I forgot everything you taught me," Alex whispered brokenly. "I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to break his jaw so he couldn't laugh at me ever again." Walter nodded. "I know," he said quietly. "You were already upset because you were late and Fox was annoyed with you. You felt threatened and you panicked. But, Alex," Walter paused and waited until Alex looked at him, "it's not the end of the world. We can get through this. It'll take a lot of hard work, but we can get through this. I will not let you fail." Alex smiled wanly. That was pure AD talking. He remembered Walter saying the same thing to him in his office at the Bureau, remembered how he had clung to those six words and wished that he was truly the person they were intended for. Wished he was what he had appeared to be, a rookie agent with a bad haircut and a bright future. "Alex," Walter said again, "I know you think what happened at the restaurant was unforgivable. But you're wrong. Nothing's so bad it can't be worked out. I love you and Fox loves you and we want you home, with us, where you belong. Nothing could ever change that." Alex looked up searchingly. He'd taken Fox's absence to mean that Walter had come only on his own behalf and that Fox was still angry. "Does Fox really...?" Alex began uncertainly. He gathered this thoughts and tried again. "He still..." He shook his head. "He was so angry at the restaurant, Walter. Are you sure he still wants me?" Alex looked around the cell, empty but for the two of them, his wounded eyes emphasizing his point. Silently, Walter extended his hand to Alex. Alex looked at it for a long moment before tentatively putting his own hand out. Walter gently tugged Alex up from the floor and settled him on the cot beside him. Alex shuddered and closed his eyes, a single tear threading its way down his cheek as Walter's arm encircled his shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. "Do you know where Fox is, Alex?" Walter asked softly. Alex shook his head, biting his lip. "He's at home," Walter answered, rubbing Alex's back as he spoke. "He wanted to come with me to look for you. I made him stay at the house in case you came back there or called. I had to give him a couple of swats to make him calm down and listen to me." Alex looked up in surprise. "He feels horrible about what happened, Alex," Walter continued. "He's worried sick, literally pacing the floor. He blames himself for everything that happened. I was almost afraid to leave him alone." Alex felt himself slowly starting to thaw, the icy sense of dread that had chilled him since this awful night began slowly beginning to leave him. Walter turned Alex's face toward him and kissed him gently on the lips. "Come home, little Rat," he murmured. "Come home." Alex hesitated, only for a moment, before burying his face in Walter's chest with a small cry. Walter's arms enfolded him and held him tight, warming him through and through. "Home," Alex repeated, barely able to get the word out, his throat tight with emotion. "Want to go home, Walter." Walter smoothed Alex's dark hair, taking in his battered condition with a worried look. "What did the medics say when they brought you in, Alex? Anything broken?" Alex looked down and mumbled something inaudibly. "What was that?" Walter asked, one eyebrow raised. "I said, I...I refused medical attention," Alex said softly. "I told them I was okay." Walter filed that away for future consideration with a meaningful look. "I'll be the judge of that." Alex felt the familiar fluttery oh-am-I-gonna-get-it feeling in his stomach and embraced it with relief. It was a feeling he'd thought he'd never know again. He was here, safe, with Walter. He was going home. Just as Walter was about to stand, Alex wrapped his arms around him again, unable to wait even a few more minutes for another physical reassurance of his place in Walter's heart. He felt Walter press him close, one hand stroking Alex's unruly hair into submission. "I'm in big trouble, huh?" Alex mumbled into Walter's shirt. "The biggest," Walter answered softly, holding Alex tightly. "Let's get you home." Alex was barely aware of Walter walking him through the process of disengaging himself from police custody. He took the envelope containing his belongings, signed the forms given him, and followed Walter out to the parking lot like a lost puppy. He moved slowly, gritting his teeth against the pain as his sore and battered body voiced its displeasure. Walter was solicitous, helping Alex into the passenger seat of his sedan and waiting patiently for Alex to buckle his seat belt. He smiled a little and ruffled Alex's hair before shutting the door gently. Alex sank back into the seat, grateful for the reassurance, still afraid this would prove to be but a beautiful dream, afraid he would awaken any moment to find himself back in the dank holding cell, alone and hurting. Walter pulled out of the parking lot and started for home, steering with one hand and flipping open his cellphone with the other. Alex lay his head against the headrest, losing the battle to keep his eyes open. He listened to Walter's voice, suddenly faint and far away. "Fox? Yes, I've got him in the car now. He's okay, a little banged up but okay. Fox, calm down. We'll be there in about twenty minutes. I'll explain everything when we get there. Just let me get him home." Walter flipped the cellphone shut and slipped it into his breast pocket. He glanced over at Alex, sitting still as death in the seat next to him, his face waxy and pale in the moonlight. He reached for Alex's hand and gave it a squeeze. "We'll be home soon." Alex murmured a little, opening his eyes slowly. "I thought I'd never get to see it again," he whispered. "Never get to see you again." Walter smoothed back Alex's dark hair from his face, reaching down to caress his cheek. "I know, Rat," Walter said softly. "What am I going to do with you?" Alex turned his head slightly, kissed the palm of Walter's hand. "Sorry," he husked. "None of that now," Walter answered. "Rest, and I'll wake you up when we get there." With a tiny, tired smile, Alex obeyed, his quiet, even breathing comforting Walter as he drove his weary runaway home. Alex stumbled up the walk, supported by Walter's strong arm around his waist. Fox stood framed in the front doorway, his face white and anxious. As Alex and Walter reached the top of the steps, Fox opened the door, his arms already outstretched. "Alex...Alex..." Fox's voice shook. He grabbed for Alex, his hands grasping, seeking the lover he had feared he might never see again. He pulled Alex to him and hung on tight. Alex closed his eyes gratefully and rested his head on Fox's shoulder, one hand clutching Fox's shirt. "I'm sorry," Alex choked. "Fox, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." He trembled with emotion and exhaustion, nuzzling his head into the soft hollow of Fox's neck, breathing in the clean, comforting scent of him. He felt Fox gasp softly, then felt Fox's long fingers carding gently through his matted hair. "Oh God, Alex, no," Fox moaned softly. "It was all my fault, baby. All my fault. I was so awful to you. You tried to explain and I wouldn't listen. I'm the one who should be asking forgiveness, not you." Fox gently lifted Alex's chin and looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Alex," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I'm so sorry." Alex shook his head, Fox's pain only making him feel more wretched. He'd hurt Fox so much, and Walter too. If only he hadn't allowed the fear to overcome him. If only he hadn't panicked and broken his promise never to leave them again. Alex felt a pain in his heart at what he had put Fox and Walter through. He deserved to be punished. How could Fox possibly hold himself to blame? He opened his mouth to protest, only to be silenced by a stern look from Walter, coupled with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Walter placed his other hand on Fox's shoulder, and drew them both close. "That's enough, both of you," Walter said gently. "We're not going to do this now. Fox, please go upstairs and start a bath for Alex." Fox hesitated, but, reassured by a quick kiss from Walter, smiled a little and hurried upstairs. The sound of running water soon followed. Alex looked up at Walter, his eyes brimming. He was so ashamed. "Walter, I—" Walter silenced him with a kiss. It was a hungry, owning, wholly proprietary kiss. Alex closed his eyes and moaned softly, sagging a little as his knees threatened to buckle. Walter easily supported him, shoring him up as his tongue explored that lush mouth, as his teeth found that soft lower lip and nipped it gently. At length, Walter released Alex, placing another kiss, this one gentle, almost reverent, on Alex's forehead. Alex opened his mouth to speak again, his expression still one of worry and sorrow. "Hush, Rat," Walter said, taking Alex's hand. "Come with me." Alex nodded numbly, gratefully, and allowed Walter to lead him upstairs. In the master bathroom, Fox knelt beside the large sunken bathtub, swirling one hand in the steaming water as it filled. Alex sank down wearily on the closed toilet seat, barely able to keep his eyes open. Walter disappeared momentarily and returned with a large trash bag, which he opened and placed on the bathroom floor. He began to strip Alex, first removing his leather jacket and inspecting it carefully. He saw Alex watching anxiously and gave him a reassuring smile, knowing how much he would hate to lose it. "It'll have to be taken to a specialty cleaner," Walter said, folding the jacket neatly and putting it aside, "but it's salvageable. I don't hold out much hope for the rest of your clothes, though," he added, helping Alex out of his torn T-shirt and wincing at the bruises and scrapes that decorated Alex's ribs. Walter knelt and gently pulled Alex's boots off, placing them beside his jacket, and motioned to Alex to stand. Alex stood, swaying slightly, his hands on Walter's shoulders for support as the ripped and filthy blue jeans were carefully tugged down and placed in the garbage bag along with his T-shirt. Alex sat again, naked save for his boxers, shivering slightly while Walter added his socks to the bag of ruined clothes and took it away. Fox turned the water off and sat on the edge of the tub. He reached for Alex's hand, taking it in both of his, kissing the long, delicate fingers tenderly. "I love you, Alex," he said softly. "I'm so glad to have you home where you belong." Alex looked down, filled again with shame and regret. "I love you, too, Fox," he whispered. "I'm sorry I put you and Walter through this." "I thought I said we weren't going to do this now." Walter's deep voice sounded from the doorway. He walked over to where Alex sat and knelt down, reaching up to cup Alex's chin gently. "I want you to listen to me now, Alex. This has been a hell of a night for all of us. I know you're anxious to talk about it and I promise you that we will, all three of us. We're going to sit down together and we're going to deal with what happened." Walter paused, his brown eyes loving yet stern. "But it can wait. Right now, nothing is more important than getting you into a hot bath and into bed. You're cold, you're tired and you're banged up. Judging by those bruises, you must be hurting," he paused meaningfully, "especially considering you refused medical attention earlier." Alex gulped and nodded, looking down hastily. Walter stood and held his hand out to Alex, who took it and rose slowly to his feet. With Walter's help, Alex slid his boxers down and stepped out of them. Walter shook an admonishing finger at Alex as he guided him toward the tub, a definite twinkle competing with the sternness in his eyes. "We'll be discussing that at length, Rat, you can be sure of that. And one more 'sorry' out of you tonight and you're going over my knee. Is that understood?" Alex smiled a little. He was definitely home. "Yes, Walter." Walter arched an eyebrow at Fox, who had taken up position on Alex's other side. "And that goes for you as well, Fox." Fox nodded obediently. "Yes, Walter." Walter and Fox helped Alex into the tub, slowly lowering him into the water. Alex leaned back and gave a sigh of pleasure as the hot water lapped up against his collarbones. Walter perched on the edge of the tub. Fox knelt beside it, a knowing grin on his face. "If you think that feels good, just wait a minute." Fox reached into the cabinet below the sink and held up a small bottle. He pulled the cork out and held it under his own nose, breathing deeply, a rapturous smile on his face. "I was saving this for a special occasion. I can't think of anything more special than having you home again." Fox held the bottle up with one hand and tipped it, drizzling oil into the water. He dipped his other hand into the water and stirred it gently. In seconds, the room was suffused with the scent of lavender and teatree oil, heady and aromatic. Alex closed his eyes, his face glowing with the first real smile he'd given since coming home. "Oh, Fox," he breathed. "That feels incredible. Thank you." The delicious scent of the oil seemed to go straight to his pleasure center, and he could already feel it soothing and softening his skin. The backs of his eyelids stung with unshed tears. The guilt nagged at him. I don't deserve this, Alex thought, but didn't dare give voice to it. Walter had made his feelings known on the subject and Alex knew how much more a spanking hurt on wet skin. Walter's baritone chuckle made Alex open his eyes. The older man sat, one hand lazily trailing through the bathwater, his eyes fixed on Alex with a knowing look. Alex gulped again. How did Walter always seem to know what he was thinking? Walter reached into the water and gave Alex's upraised knee a squeeze. Fox took two washcloths from the neatly folded stack on the countertop and placed them on the edge of the tub, then reached back into the cabinet to reveal another indulgence: Alex's favorite almond soap. "Hold this for me, will you?" Fox asked with a grin, unable to resist passing the soap under Alex's nose before placing it in his hand. Alex inhaled deeply and smiled. "Mmmm, Fox..." Alex's drowsy smile widened as Fox and Walter both stood and shrugged out of their shirts. Alex's cock took a definite interest in the proceedings as Fox and Walter quickly stripped off the rest of their clothes and stood there naked, matching grins on their faces. "It's awfully lonely in this big tub all by myself," Alex said, his fingers making ripples in the water. "Sure would be nice to have some company." Walter laughed. "Scoot up a little, Rat." He reached down and helped Alex sit up and move forward before climbing into the tub behind him. Walter sat, his legs on either side of Alex, and pulled him back to rest against his chest. Alex sighed again, a sound of pure contentment, and closed his eyes. Fox climbed into other end of the tub and settled in with Alex's feet in his lap. He retrieved the washcloths from the edge of the tub and tossed one to Walter. Alex happily handed over the soap and Walter worked it into the washcloth, forming a rich lather. He handed the soap to Fox, who did the same with his. Walter began making lazy, soapy circles on Alex's chest and abdomen, making sure to pass lightly over the bruises and scrapes. Fox gently raised one of Alex's long legs and cradled the bare foot in his hands. He began to soap it gently, tempted to tickle the soft sole, but unable to bring himself to spoil the serene look Alex wore. Alex lay, supported between the two of them, his aching muscles soothed by the hot water, his lovers tenderly washing every inch of him. He leaned back against Walter's broad chest and practically purred as Fox turned his attention to his toes, lovingly soaping each one. Nearly asleep, Alex suddenly saw a vivid picture in his mind of the two men who had attacked him, the struggle in the alley, how close they had come to raping him. Tears came to his eyes at the thought of anyone but Walter and Fox touching him, being inside him. He shuddered violently, causing Walter and Fox to exchange worried looks. Alex's mind wouldn't let him relax completely, wouldn't let him forget. -They almost did it, they almost took me and I was scared Walter I was scared and I would have died before I let them- It would have been my fault, Alex thought desperately. It would have been my fault. I disobeyed Walter and went back there, went to a place from my old life, I should have listened, should have kept my promise... Alex opened his mouth to speak, looking around again at Walter, his eyes wide and sad. There was so much he wanted to say. Walter's wet, muscular arm circled around Alex's waist, anchoring him. "Shhh," Walter said softly. "Let us take care of you." Blinking back tears, Alex settled, feeling Walter hold him closer. Fox gazed at Alex, his hazel eyes clear and calm, as he carefully ran the washcloth along Alex's leg. "We love you, Alex. Nothing else matters now." Alex's heart swelled at the sincerity in Fox's voice, the promise in his eyes. He knew how hard it must be for Fox to restrain his natural curiosity, to hold back the flood of questions he undoubtedly wanted to ask. Alex smiled, knowing Fox was right. He was home, he was with Fox and Walter, where he belonged. He knew they would have to deal with what happened, but he trusted Walter to decide when that would be. Finally relaxing under their ministrations, he let the scented water and his lovers' hands calm and restore him. They drained the water, which had turned grey from the dirt and grime Alex had collected during his night away. Walter adjusted the taps and the tub rapidly refilled with clean hot water. Walter sat Alex up, took the bottle of shampoo from the edge of the tub and poured the creamy liquid into his hand. Using the sprayer attachment, he soaked Alex's dark hair and then rubbed the shampoo in. Alex felt boneless, giving a little moan of pleasure as Walter's strong fingers massaged his scalp. Walter rinsed and washed Alex's hair again before they were both satisfied that it was clean. Alex had never felt so loved, so completely cared for. The three of them stood, laughing at how their skin had wrinkled during the long bath, and stepped out. Alex watched the last of the water drain from the tub, carrying with it the last traces of his attackers' touch. Walter and Fox had washed him clean, made him theirs again. They quickly toweled one another off, Alex's cock leaping again as Walter dried carefully between his legs. Walter laughed and planted another kiss on his wayward Rat. "Down boy," he mock-growled. "I don't think you're up to active duty just yet." "But Walter," Alex whined, trying for irresistible. "It's just a few scrapes." "No buts," Walter said firmly, aiming a swat at Alex's towel-clad rear. "I know deep bruises when I see them. You're bound to be hurting and we're not going to do anything to make your injuries worse, so you can just stop looking so adorable." "I'm not sure I can," Alex husked, wagging his butt at Walter. This time the swat connected. "Ow!" Alex yelped. Fox and Walter laughed. "All right, Romeo," Walter said with a grin as he rummaged through the medicine cabinet for the tube of Neosporin. "Let me disinfect those scrapes and then I think it's time to call it a night." A few minutes later, three tired men climbed into bed, immediately arranging themselves in a comfortable tangle. Alex fell asleep almost immediately, his head pillowed on Fox's chest, one of Walter's arms around his waist. They kept him in bed for the next two days. Despite the pampering, the massages, the champagne and strawberries, the hundred ways Fox and Walter found to show their love, Alex's spirits steadily declined. He felt unworthy, ashamed of himself for accepting this doting treatment after all he had done. He knew that it was important to them to show their happiness, to have a tangible way to express their relief and gratitude that they had him home again, but every kind gesture made Alex feel more and more guilty. He tried to be patient, to trust Walter to know what was best. There was reason behind everything that Walter did, and Alex knew that this time spent luxuriating in bed together had meaning, as would his punishment when the time came. It was not until the second night that Walter finally pronounced Alex "fit for duty" and gave him the one thing he desired more than his penance: the feeling of Walter inside him, claiming him, of Fox's mouth around his cock, of his lovers holding him as their sweat and tears mingled, as their shouts echoed together. Alex knew that Walter would determine the proper time and place for his punishment. He also knew that he had broken some of the most important and serious rules Walter had laid down, and that his punishment would undoubtedly be the most severe to date. Despite his nervousness, Alex was anxious for the chance to atone for what he had done, and he counted the moments. As the third day began, Alex found it harder and harder to hide his distress. Fox was downstairs making breakfast, the aroma of french toast drifting temptingly up the stairs. Alex and Walter were in bed, Alex's head on Walter's shoulder, the morning sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. Alex made a small sound in his throat, wetness trickling from his eyes onto Walter's bare skin. Walter's hand tightened on Alex's shoulder and began to make soothing circles there. "Rat?" Walter asked with concern. Alex's throat tightened at the sound of their special endearment. "Soon, Walter?" Alex whispered. He didn't need to explain what he meant. Walter gave his shoulder another calming squeeze. "Today, Alex. Right after lunch. Okay?" Alex nodded, sagging with relief. He needed this. He needed the purging, the absolution. He needed to try to make it right. "We've been here before, Alex," Walter said sternly. Alex nodded his head miserably. His heart pounded. He had waited anxiously for this moment to come, but now that it was here, he had to actively force himself to remain in his chair. Accepting consequences still went against the grain of everything he had ever been taught, and his adrenalin was urging him to run. "Yes, Walter," he whispered. "Tell us, Alex." Walter's voice was sad. "Tell Fox and me what we can do to help you with this problem. Tell us what we can do to prove to you that we love you and that no matter what you do, we're not going to throw you away." Alex hung his head. Fox sat beside him in the matching wing chair, holding his hand tightly. Walter sat behind his desk, his face lined with concern. "It's not you," Alex said softly to the carpet. "It's not...I know you love me. You show me every day that you love me. It was stupid, what I did. I know that." "Do you remember the last time we discussed this, Alex? The virus scare? Your sudden trip to Luxembourg?" Alex nodded. "Yes, sir." "And do you remember the promise you made to me and to Fox?" Alex's lower lip trembled slightly. "Yes, Walter." Walter looked at Alex sternly. "And what was that promise?" Alex raised his head, his green eyes sad and ashamed. "I promised never to leave you again," he said softly. "And have you kept that promise?" "N-no, sir," Alex said around the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry. Please believe me." Walter leaned forward, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "I do believe you, Alex," he said earnestly. "I know how sorry you are. I know you didn't mean to hurt us." Walter took a deep breath and continued. "But the fact remains that you did hurt us, Alex. You did leave. You broke your promise to us. You also put yourself in danger by returning to a place from your days with the Consortium. That was another promise broken. You know how I feel about broken promises, Alex." Alex nodded, his eyes stinging. Walter was being hard on him but he deserved it. Everything Walter said was true. He was so ashamed. "Yes, sir," Alex whispered. He felt Fox squeeze his hand and looked up to see Fox gazing at him, his love warring with pain in his hazel eyes. Fox gave him a reassuring nod and Alex turned back to Walter, determined to do whatever he had to do to make this up to the both of them. Walter continued. "This has been an ongoing issue in our relationship, Alex, ever since that first Christmas together when I had to collect you from the bus station in the middle of the night. That was the first time I ever paddled you. I paddled you again after you came home from Luxembourg. I don't like to have to punish you, but you and Fox have chosen to give me certain responsibilities and obligations within our relationship, and that means that I have to take whatever steps I feel necessary to safeguard what we have together." Alex nodded numbly. Despite the affection and care that had been showered upon him the past two days, that small part of him that had once been that pale, unloved little boy worried that Walter's next words would be "goodbye, Alex." Walter saw that frightened flash in Alex's eyes and rose abruptly. He walked around the desk and grasped Alex's chin firmly. His brown eyes held Alex's with their intensity as Walter spoke, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you, Alex. Fox loves you. Do you understand? Do you truly understand? That look I just saw in your eyes has no place here. Not now, not ever." Alex nodded again, his lashes damp, worry gnawing at him. What if he couldn't do it? What if he could never lose the fear? Would they one day tire of trying to make him believe? Walter bent and kissed Alex, passing a hand gently over his hair as he returned to his chair. "Now then, Rat," Walter said, a little more softly, "as I was saying, it's my responsibility to find a solution to this problem. It is a major obstacle in our relationship and none of us will ever truly be happy until we deal with it. It's not fair for you to go through life waiting for the other shoe to drop, worried that the slightest mistake on your part is going to make us stop loving you. It's not fair for Fox and I to live with the constant fear that you're going to bolt every time something goes wrong. It's not fair for us to spend sleepless nights worrying that we're never going to see you again. Just as you need to know that we will always be here for you, we need to know that you will always be here for us, too." Alex nodded miserably. "Yes, sir," he choked. "I'm so sorry, Walter. Fox. Please forgive me." Walter smiled. Fox's hand tightened on Alex's again. "It's not an issue of forgiveness, Alex," Walter said gently. "Of course we forgive you." "Yes," echoed Fox. "We love you, Alex. I'll say it to you a hundred times a day if that's what it takes. You never have to doubt it." "I don't doubt it," Alex said quietly, unable to meet their eyes. "I mean, I know it consciously, but...I guess I just...I panicked," he finished awkwardly. "I did the wrong thing. I know that. I just panicked and ran." "Tell us how you felt, Alex," Fox said, slipping into profiler mode. His eyes were alight with the desire to solve the problem. "Tell us what went through your mind at the restaurant. What were you thinking when you ran from us?" Alex looked away. Talking about his feelings was never easy. He always ended up struggling to find the words. Walter nodded approvingly. "I think that's a good idea, Fox. It's okay, Alex. Take your time. Start with the incident in the restaurant and take us through what followed." Alex picked at the knee of his jeans. "I...I was upset when I got to the restaurant. Upset at myself for being late and for embarrassing Fox in front of his friends. I...I knew I was in trouble. I was worried about being punished, I guess." Alex ground to a halt, embarrassed. "You thought I was going to punish you for being late?" Walter asked. Alex shrugged, unsure. "I...yes. For being late and for not checking the oil in the Jeep before I left for Richmond. And my cellphone...I knew I would definitely get it for that." "So you were already agitated," Fox said. "And then when you came in, I just made it worse." He looked at Walter sorrowfully. "Walter, this is as much my fault as it is Alex's. Please don't hold him completely responsible. I was so nasty to him. He tried to explain but I wouldn't listen. All I could think about was how we looked in front of Terrance and Ian." Fox shook his head at his own selfishness. He looked at Alex guiltily. "I'm sorry, Alex. None of this would have happened if I'd just listened to what you had to say. I let my wounded pride get in the way and I'm truly sorry. Forgive me?" Alex brought Fox's hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. "There's nothing to forgive," he said, his eyes shining. "Nothing. It was all my fault, Fox." "All right," Walter intervened. "Let's take things one at a time. Fox, while it's true that you had reason to be annoyed with Alex, it's also true that you could have handled the situation better than you did. I think watching Alex's punishment, knowing that you might have been able to prevent this from happening, will reinforce the lesson and remind you to be more understanding in future." Fox nodded, biting his lip. "Yes, Walter." Walter turned to Alex. "Go on, Alex. You're in the restaurant and you see that Fox is angry with you. What were you feeling?" Alex thought hard, trying to find the words. "I was scared," he admitted. "Scared that Fox would never forgive me. Scared of what you would say. Scared you'd be disappointed in me." Walter nodded understandingly. "I know that's a worry of yours, Alex," he said quietly. Alex nodded, his eyes bright. "You being disappointed in me, Walter...it's just the worst thing in the world. I never want to disappoint you," he said softly. Walter nodded again. His poor Rat looked so miserable, huddled there in the chair, his shoulders bowed under such a weight of guilt and shame. Walter didn't feel like being the disciplinarian right now. He wanted nothing more than to take Alex up to bed and prove his love, cover him with kisses until he could never doubt it again, plunge inside him and let him feel it from the inside out. But that would have to wait. First there had to be discussion and there had to be consequences. The only way to save Alex was to make sure he didn't run again. "Alex, do you remember what I told you before about disappointment? How I can be disappointed in the choices you make, but never in you?" Alex nodded, sniffling a little. "Nothing's changed, Rat," Walter said gently. "I am disappointed in what you did, I won't lie to you. But I will never be disappointed in you. Is that clear?" "Yes, Walter," Alex said, managing a small smile. "Good," Walter said. "Now, what made you run like you did?" Alex swallowed hard. This was the hardest part of all to explain. "I just...after I...I grabbed him, the looks on your faces, on everyone's face...they were looking at me like I was a brute, a thug. I was afraid you would see me like they did. Like I used to be before..." he paused, blinking back tears. "I was just so afraid of what I'd done. Of losing you. I thought...I thought I'd finally screwed up so bad you wouldn't want me anymore." Walter nodded, giving Alex time to settle down. At length, he looked at Alex seriously. "Have Fox and I ever, in the time we've been together, given you any reason to think that we would do that? That we're so shallow and so disloyal that we would turn our backs on you at the slightest provocation?" Alex shook his head vigorously. "N-no, Walter," he said, his eyes wide. "I...I never meant—" "But that's what it amounts to, Alex," Walter said, not unkindly. "You're not giving us very much credit." Alex bit his lip. He'd never looked at it that way. He'd been selfish, thinking only of how he felt. He'd never truly looked at it from Walter and Fox's point of view. He looked from one to the other, horrified. "Walter, Fox...I never...I don't think that of you," he said, distressed. "I know you're not like that. I look up to you both, you know that. You're everything I want to be. I don't think you're disloyal or shallow or—" he broke off, fighting to keep control. He shook his head again, the picture of abject misery. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I fucked everything up. You haven't done anything wrong. It's me, it's all me." He looked at Walter. "I know I was wrong, Walter. I forgot everything you taught me. I broke my promises. I hurt you both so much and I know you're going to punish me and I deserve it, the worst you've got to give me." Alex hung his head, his eyes closed, ready for whatever he had coming. He clung to Fox's hand like a lifeline. "Alex," Walter said quietly, "listen to me." He waited until Alex raised his head. "You're right when you say that what you did was wrong. You did break your promises and you did hurt Fox and myself, and you endangered yourself in the process. There will be consequences for that. But Alex, this isn't about making you suffer. This is about you understanding what you did. It's about you understanding why you did it and even more importantly, it's about learning how we can make sure it doesn't happen again." Alex nodded. He wanted that. He wanted it with all his heart. Walter continued. "It comes down to trust, Alex. I don't think you completely trust Fox and me." Alex opened his mouth to protest but Walter held up a silencing hand. "I didn't say you don't trust us, Alex. I said you don't trust us completely. You haven't been able to let go of that last little bit of fear that we will one day get tired of you or get angry at you and we'll toss you aside. We need to work harder, all three of us, to get you past this, to help you learn to let go of the fear." Alex looked at Walter with anguished eyes. "Please," he whispered, looking back and forth between them, "don't blame yourselves. You've been so wonderful to me. It's been like a dream since I've been with you. You treat me like I matter, like I'm special. You love me, every day you show me, you tell me." He hung his head again. "It's me," he said sadly. "I'm the problem. Not you." Walter nodded, his heart aching for Alex as he watched his young lover struggle with the guilt and shame he felt. "Alex," Walter began, his voice soothing, "if one of us has a problem, we all have a problem. If Fox or I needed help with something, say, physical therapy for an injury, you'd help, wouldn't you?" Alex nodded emphatically. "Of course." "This is no different, Alex. Things have happened to you in your life, bad things, hurtful things. Things many people wouldn't have survived. These things have made it difficult for you to trust. Not impossible, just harder. You can do it, Alex. You can let go and trust us to love you, trust us to be there, not just in good times but in bad as well. You can do this and we're going to help you do it." "Believe it, Alex," Fox added. "We're going to be right beside you every step of the way." Alex looked at Fox and nodded, managing a smile. "I'm a lot of work," he said softly. Fox leaned over and kissed him soundly. "Anything worth having is," he answered with a grin. "I couldn't agree more," Walter added, unable to suppress a smile of his own. He looked at Alex, his expression growing serious again. "All right, Alex. I think it's time to get this over with." Alex straightened in his chair and nodded, ready to accept whatever discipline Walter deemed fair. "I'll begin with the lesser infractions first," Walter began. "I'm not going to punish you for being late to the restaurant. I know you didn't mean to be late and I know you feel badly about it. You couldn't have known you'd have to wait so long at the computer store and you couldn't have predicted that traffic would be so heavy. However, there is the matter of your having set off on a fairly lengthy drive without first making sure your vehicle was in good working order." "I should have checked the oil before I left, Walter," Alex admitted. Walter nodded. "Yes, you should have. You could have done serious damage to the engine, but more importantly, you could have been stranded. You were very fortunate that the oil light came on within sight of a service station." "Yes, Walter." "Considering that, and also considering the reckless manner in which you drove out of the restaurant parking lot, as well as the fact that you then used the Jeep to drive to a place you were forbidden to go, I'm going to have to ask for your car keys, Alex. In a month, we'll sit down and talk about your getting them back." Alex had only had the new black Jeep for a few weeks. Walter had agreed that Alex's old car was no longer reliable and had allowed Alex to withdraw the necessary funds from the money market account they had set up together to buy a new one. As soon as Alex had seen the Jeep at the car dealership, he'd fallen in love with it. He kept it washed and waxed and, when the towing company brought it back from the bar the day before, he had gone outside to personally supervise the men as they lowered the Jeep to the driveway and unhooked it from the tow truck. He slumped, miserable at the thought of being without it for a month. But, he had to agree, albeit reluctantly, that Walter was being more than fair. "Yes, sir," Alex said. "I'll get the keys...after," he finished nervously. Walter reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small booklet. "This is the instruction booklet for your cellphone, Alex. You have read it?" Alex flushed guiltily. "Yes, sir." Walter leafed through the booklet. "That includes the section on the proper use of the charging unit?" Alex looked down, suddenly very interested in his boots. "Yes, Walter," he said quietly. Walter placed the booklet on the desk and continued. "Is your charging unit broken?" Alex shook his head. "N-no, sir." "Then why was your cellphone not fully charged when you left for Richmond?" Alex picked at the upholstery on the arm of his chair. He looked up at Walter shamefacedly. "I just didn't, Walter," he confessed. "I...I was in a hurry. I didn't think about it." His shoulders slumped. "I know I should have charged it. I'm sorry." "All right, Alex," Walter said, sliding the booklet across the desk to him. "I think copying out this entire instruction booklet twenty-five times will help you remember in future." "Yes, sir," Alex said glumly. He hated writing assignments. But again, he had to admit to himself that Walter was being fair, and he'd more than earned his punishment. Walter looked at Alex, his expression grave. "And now we have to deal with the serious issues, Alex. The things for which I must punish you severely. Beginning with your attacking Ian in the restaurant." White-faced, Alex nodded silently. His hand clutched Fox's tightly. "What was going through your mind, Alex?" Walter asked. "What made you lose control like that?" Alex was quiet for a moment, then he began to speak, his chin tucked down toward his chest. "He...he laughed at me, Walter." He looked up, fresh humiliation and anger in his eyes. "He said I needed to be tamed, like an-an animal." Alex swallowed hard, the hand Fox was not holding clenching unknowingly into a fist. He looked down again, ashamed. "I was jealous of him. Jealous because he belonged in your world, Fox, not me. I felt like an outsider, like...like before." Fox clung to Alex's hand, his expression one of guilt and regret. "Alex, no," he said hastily. "I never wanted you to feel like that. He's not better than you, no one is." "It's okay, Fox," Alex said. "None of this is your fault. It's mine." "No," Fox said vehemently. "Alex, I...I made a mistake at the restaurant, a terrible mistake. I was so worried about impressing someone I hadn't seen in over fifteen years that I let it blind me to what was really important. I should never have spoken to you like I did. I should have given you a chance to explain." Fox paused and gave a sad chuckle. "Why was I so worried about what they would think? I don't even like Terrance that much. He's all right in short doses but he can be stuffy and just plain irritating. We weren't even that close at university." Alex looked down at their two hands intertwined, biting his lip as he listened. "Please don't blame yourself, Fox," he said softly. "No matter what, I shouldn't have done what I did. I lost control. I wanted to...I wanted to kill him," he finished, his voice almost a whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, afraid to look at Fox or Walter. "But you wouldn't have, Alex," Walter's deep voice said calmly. "You might have hit him. In fact, you definitely would have hit him if I hadn't stopped you. But you wouldn't have killed him." "I wanted to," Alex whispered. "Just for a second, when he was there in front of me, I...I wanted to, Walter. I could have. You know I could have." Alex fell silent, a horrified expression on his face. What if he were really irredeemable? What if Spender's conditioning were unbreakable? What if all of Walter's best attempts at civilizing him were only skin deep, and within him would always beat the heart of an assassin? Walter felt a pang of sympathy for his Rat. "Alex," he said gently. "Let's keep some perspective here. This one incident doesn't mean we throw in the towel. It just means we have to work harder. Yes, you did lose control. Yes, you could have hurt Ian badly. That's a very serious thing, Rat, and it is cause for concern. But it's not reason enough for us to disregard all of the hard work you've done and the strides you've made since you've been here with Fox and me." Alex looked up uncertainly. "When we brought you here, Alex, you were half-wild," Walter said, smiling a little at the memory. "You'd never known anything but cruelty and neglect. Spender had trained you to be a killer, a weapon, and that's all you were. It's been a lot of hard work for all of us, but we've had the pleasure of watching you grow, watching you learn to love and be loved. Watching you try so hard to unlearn the horrible things Spender taught you." Alex's eyes swam. "I'm so sorry, Walter," he whispered. "I did such a bad thing." Walter nodded, his eyes at once loving and firm. "Yes, Alex," he agreed. "You did do a bad thing and you will be punished for it. But it's not the end of the world and it doesn't make you a killer." Walter paused, searching for the right words. "You were a killer once, it's true. But the young man sitting there in front of me, the man Fox and I have shared our bed, our hearts, our love with for three years, the man who loves chocolate and old sci-fi movies and breakfast in bed...that man is no killer." Walter was quiet for a moment, his throat working as he tried to keep control. "The young man who wakes up in my arms every morning, who makes the most exquisite noises when I'm inside him, who looks up at me with the clearest green eyes I've ever seen and tells me he loves me, he's no killer," Walter's voice was rough with emotion, "and I won't have you say that he is. Is that clear?" Alex's eyes shone with the understanding of what it is to be loved, truly loved and believed in by another. "Yes, sir," he said softly. "Now then," Walter said, the AD creeping back into his voice, "I am very disappointed in the choice you made when you attacked Ian." "Yes, Walter," Alex said miserably. "Alex, you have skills and capabilities the average person doesn't have," Walter continued. "But with those skills and capabilities comes huge responsibility. Had you hit Ian as you intended to, you would have undoubtedly sent him to the hospital." Alex nodded sadly. "You have an obligation to ensure that you do not use those skills and capabilities to endanger anyone. Ian could not possibly have defended himself against you. Very few people could, if you were intent on hurting them. Do you understand that, Alex?" Walter asked, leaning forward intently. "Yes, sir," Alex replied. "In short, Alex, knowing that you have training and abilities well beyond the scope of most people, you have to be more careful, use greater restraint than everyone else. Is that understood?" "Yes, sir." Alex fidgeted a little in his chair. "I'm sorry, Walter." "I know you are," Walter said sadly. "But unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that you scared that man half to death and nearly got yourself an assault charge in the process. You were about to do serious bodily harm to Ian and if I hadn't come in when I did, that's exactly what would have happened." "He was provoked," Fox interjected, unable to keep silent. "I'm not saying what Alex did was right, but Ian was being...well, he was being an ass, Walter." Walter nodded. "I understand that, Fox, and I have taken it into consideration, along with your own attitude toward Alex when he arrived." Fox hung his head. "However," Walter continued, "provoked or not, Alex has to learn to control his temper and to handle situations like this without resorting to violence." He looked at Alex. "You've done very well in the time we've been together, Alex. You came to me and you asked for my help, for Fox's help, and you entrusted yourself to us wholeheartedly. You've been willing and eager to learn a whole new way of life and you've worked very hard at it. I am proud of how far you've come." Walter's voice became stern again. "We agreed upon certain rules when we began our relationship, Alex. One of those rules is that you will not use violence against another unless it is in self-defense. You know that, when you attacked Ian, you broke that rule." "Yes, Walter," Alex said, his eyes lowered. "I'm glad you see that," Walter said. "It goes without question that I am going to paddle you, Alex. No matter how you are provoked, you are not going to resort to violence. That was a part of your old life and I am absolutely not going to allow it in this one. Is that clear?" "Yes, sir," Alex said mournfully. "Good," Walter said, and then a little more gently, "I know you're sorry, Rat. I saw the look on your face in the restaurant when you realized what you'd almost done. I know you're going to accept your punishment and learn from it." "I will, Walter, I promise," Alex said. He had never meant anything more sincerely in his life. "I swear I will." Walter opened his desk drawer and took out the leather-covered paddle. He lay it in the center of the desk blotter and pushed his chair back. "Alex," he said simply. Alex gulped and nodded. After a brief encouraging kiss from a sad-eyed Fox, he stood up and walked around the desk to where Walter sat. Alex unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down to his knees, followed by his boxers. He lay across Walter's lap, scooting forward slightly so that his bottom was raised high over Walter's thighs. Walter helped Alex get into position and reluctantly picked up the paddle. He placed one hand reassuringly on the small of Alex's back. "What is this punishment for, Alex?" he asked quietly. Alex clung tightly to Walter's leg. "For breaking one of the most important rules," he answered, his breath hitching a little. "For losing control and attacking Fox's friend. For using violence against someone else, someone who couldn't defend themselves." "Very good," Walter said, rubbing Alex's back gently. "I'm going to paddle you now, Alex, and it will be hard. I'm giving you thirty strokes. You don't have to count them but I want you to think about what you did. Every single time this paddle comes down, I want you to think about how badly you scared Ian and how badly he could have been hurt." "Y-yes, sir," Alex gasped, screwing his eyes shut. The paddle snapped down with a deafening crack, landing right on the sit spot. Walter hadn't held back and a round red blotch quickly appeared on Alex's creamy white skin. Alex bit back a yelp and barely had time to recover from the first stroke when the second stroke landed in the very same spot. Alex groaned and kicked a little, unable to help himself. Walter anchored him firmly with one arm and raised the paddle again. It came down twice, in rapid succession, this time targeting the other sit spot. Alex hissed and kicked harder, ashamed of himself for not taking what he knew was just punishment quietly, but Walter meant business and it hurt. "Ow, Walter...shit, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" "Settle down, Rat," Walter soothed, bringing the paddle down again across Alex's previously pale cheeks. "We're not even halfway done yet." Alex squirmed, grateful for Walter's strong arm holding him down. He deserved this, was relieved to be paying penance for what he had done, but he didn't trust himself to be able to lie still and not try to run as Walter methodically ignited a blazing inferno on his bare ass. "Are you going to work hard to make sure you don't lose your temper again, Alex? Are you going to remember this paddling the next time someone provokes you?" Walter asked between loud cracks of the paddle. "Yes, Walter, yes!" Alex shouted. "I swear it! I'll never do it again, I promise I won't!" "And why is it so important that you restrain yourself from violence, Alex?" Walter asked, the paddle rising and falling, relentless, implacable. "B-because it's a rule!" Alex howled almost incoherently. "Because I could hurt someone, I could hurt them badly! Because it's part of my old life, it's not who I am anymore!" "That's right, Alex, that's right," Walter said soothingly. "Only a few more now, we're almost done." Alex made himself lie still, unable to stifle a sob. "Only a few more," Walter repeated, rubbing circles on Alex's back. "I know it hurts. But you earned this, Rat, every stroke. Think about the lesson I'm trying to teach you, Alex. Think about what you did and why you're being punished." "Y-yes, Walter," Alex gasped. "I know, I know I deserve it—" "Hush," Walter said. "You're not a bad person, Alex. You're a good person who did a bad thing and I love you enough to punish you for it." The paddle cracked down five times more and then it was over. Walter swiftly gathered Alex up into his arms and held him while he cried, knowing Alex needed the release, one hand rubbing Alex's back, the other cupping the back of his head reassuringly. "I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry," Alex murmured, his face buried in Walter's shirt. "It's all right," Walter said, stroking Alex's hair. "I know. I know. You did well, Alex. You took your punishment and I'm proud of you." "Me too," Fox said, kneeling down beside Walter's chair. His face was pale. "I...I think I'd rather have the paddle myself than have to watch Alex being punished, Walter." Walter reached out to Fox and drew him in close, kissing him tenderly. "I know, Fox," he said, his own voice strained with emotion. "I know it's hard. But we all have lessons to learn, the three of us, and we have to learn them together." Fox nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "I'm sorry," he said to them both. "I know I shouldn't have behaved the way I did at the restaurant. I know this is partly my fault. I've learned a lesson, too, Walter." A few moments later, a red-eyed Alex sat again, albeit gingerly, in his wing chair facing Walter's desk. Fox sat beside him, once again holding his hand. Walter, clearly drained from the paddling, readied himself for the rest of what was going to be a very long morning. "Alex, I don't usually do this," he began, the difficulty of his task evident in his voice. "I don't believe in dragging out a punishment, particularly a spanking. But the fact remains that our rule against violence is of paramount importance, for your own safety and well-being and for that of others. It's also vital to the well-being of our relationship. When you broke that rule, you not only endangered yourself, you endangered our relationship as well, and that must be dealt with very seriously." Alex swallowed hard. "Yes, Walter." "For the next week, when we get up in the morning, I am going to spank you. It won't be like today, Alex. It'll be just my hand on your bare butt. When we go to bed the night before and you're thinking about the next morning's spanking, I want you to think about the fear that Ian felt as he watched you draw your fist back. I want you to think about what could have happened to him, to you, and to us, if I hadn't stopped you in time." Alex looked down humbly. "Yes, Walter." Walter studied him sadly. "Why am I doing this, Alex?" Alex bit his lip. "Because...because you want me to spend plenty of time thinking about what I did." Walter's smile brightened Alex noticeably. "Absolutely right, Alex," Walter said, beaming. "You got it in one." Alex looked at Fox, who rewarded him with a brilliant smile of his own. "And, Alex," Walter said, holding up his hand. "You will write a letter of apology to Ian." Alex ducked his head and nodded, but not before Walter detected a flash of rebellion in those moss green eyes. Walter chuckled to himself. It was good to see there was still an independent streak in his Rat. "I know he bears some responsibility in this, too, Alex, but you will do it nonetheless. And then you will write another letter of apology to the owner of the restaurant." "Yes, sir," Alex mumbled, shifting a little in his seat to find a more comfortable position and quickly finding it a fruitless endeavor. "And now," Walter said, folding his hands on the desk in front of him, "I want to get back to your running away. We've been through this time and time again, Alex. Fox and I have done everything we know how to do to convince you that you're not here on our whim. That we love you, cherish you, want you here forever." "I know," Alex said softly. "You need to understand something, Alex," Walter continued. "You are not alone anymore. Those days are gone forever. You are now a part of something greater than yourself, greater than all of us." He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think about the incredible odds against the three of us ever coming together, ever falling in love. The obstacles we've overcome. We're so very lucky to have what we have here, the three of us." Walter looked at Alex intently. "Do you remember what I was saying a little while ago, about your skills and capabilities, and how with them comes responsibility?" Alex nodded. "The love that the three of us share is a beautiful, wonderful, amazing thing, Alex," Walter said. "But with that, too, comes responsibility. We all have to do our part to keep our relationship working, to help it flourish and endure. We need to be able to trust each other, depend on each other. We need to be there for each other, not just in good times, but in bad times as well. Especially in bad times. When you run away, Alex, that doesn't show trust in Fox and me. It makes it harder for Fox and I to trust you. Without trust, no relationship can survive." Alex's face was ashen. He trembled, his lips pressed tightly together. Walter's words had a profound effect on him. His heart ached as he realized, truly realized how deeply his running away had hurt Walter and Fox. "S-sorry," he managed to croak, staring down at the floor. Oh God, Alex, he railed at himself silently, how could you be so selfish? So stupid? He had run blindly, like a terrified animal, with no thought for his lovers, who had given him a home, a life, everything. He had thought only of himself, letting his fight or flight instinct carry him farther and farther away from the only people who had ever loved him. "Stupid..." he whispered. He looked up at Walter, shellshocked and devastated. How to say it? How to begin to put into words the cavern that had opened up inside him? How to begin to apologize, to make amends for repaying their immeasurable and precious gift with such selfishness, such lack of consideration? Walter stood and walked over to where Alex sat, pain palpable around him. He wore it like a cloak, bowed under its weight. Walter knelt and put his arms around Alex. Alex sat perfectly still for a moment, and then sagged, throwing his arms around Walter's neck and clinging like a drowning man. "Walter, oh God, Walter," Alex sobbed, his face pressed against Walter's shirt. "How could I have...I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry, I was so...I didn't mean to hurt you, I never meant to, I—" "Shhh," Walter said, holding Alex close, rocking him slightly. "I know. I know, Rat." "So do I," Fox whispered, kneeling beside Walter and putting his arms around them both. "We know you didn't mean to hurt us, Alex. We know that. We're right here, baby. We're going to beat this. We're going to get through it together." After a few moments, Alex raised his tear-streaked face. He laid a hand gently along Fox's cheek, caressed it softly. "How..." he began and faltered, the words caught in a dry throat. "How can you...forgive me again?" He looked away, his throat working. "I broke my promise. I left you. I swore I'd never do it again and I did." "Because we love you, dummy," Fox said, planting a kiss on Alex's damp cheek. Walter laughed. He pulled Alex to him again, into an enveloping bear hug. "One thing you ought to know about Fox and me by now," he growled. "We don't give up. Especially not when it's something we're passionate about, and Alex, there's nothing we're more passionate about than you. We love you. We'll never give up on you. That's about as simple as it gets." Alex smiled, his relief obvious. Walter and Fox stood, returning to their respective chairs. Walter folded his arms on the desk and waited for Alex to compose himself. Alex wiped his eyes and looked at Walter trustingly. "Okay, Walter. I'm ready." Walter nodded. "Alex, this is hard on all of us. It's hard for me, and I know it is for Fox, too, to see you hurting and upset like this. It's hard for me to have to punish you, knowing that you realize that what you did was wrong, and that you're sorry, genuinely sorry for doing it." He paused. "But I do have to punish you." "I know you do," Alex said, his head bent. "I deserve it." Walter looked thoughtful. "What do you think you deserve, Alex?" he asked. "What do you think would be an appropriate punishment for running away? For leaving us after you promised never to do it again?" Alex looked up in surprise, then looked down again, his expression intense and serious. "F-fifty with the paddle," he said rapidly, his eyes dark and far away. "Fifty with your belt—" "Alex," Walter said. "...that time I got into a shouting match with the neighbor, you used the hairbrush on me," Alex continued, swallowing hard. "That...that really hurt. You could use that, and then—" "Alex!" Walter shouted. Alex looked up, startled. "Alex," Walter said, his tone softening, "I might be saying this for selfish reasons, but I'm sure I speak for Fox as well as myself when I say that I'd like there to be something left of that beautiful bottom of yours." Alex looked at Walter, a puzzled expression on his face. "But...but I have to be punished." Walter smiled. "Alex, I know how badly you feel about this. But the point of the punishment isn't to leave you in agony. It's to help you understand what you've done wrong and to teach you not to do it again." Alex looked unsure. He studied the floor for a few moments. "I...I don't know, Walter," he said. "I can't think of anything that would be punishment enough for what I did. I broke my promise, I hurt you both." He looked away. "I deserve to suffer for it." Walter and Fox exchanged pained looks at the sadness in Alex's voice. Walter took a deep breath and tried again. "It's not about suffering, Alex. Listen to what I'm saying to you. The object here is not to inflict pain, it's to correct your behavior. When I punish you, I don't always spank you, do I?" Alex thought for a minute. "No." "What other things do I do to help you learn, Alex?" Alex looked down, fiddling with the nubby upholstery on the arm of the chair again. "You...you make me stand in the corner, sometimes. You make me write a lot," he added, making a face. "Lines or essays. I hate that. I'd rather have the spanking and get it over with." Walter chuckled. "I know, Rat. But why do I make you write the essays? Why do I make you write the lines?" "To make me think about what I did," Alex replied softly. "To make me think about why I did it and what I should have done instead." "Absolutely," Walter said with a smile. "I know you hate writing assignments more than spankings and I think I know why. You've had to endure a lot of pain in your life. Pain is something you have experience with, it's familiar to you. A spanking is over fairly quickly. The writing forces you to really spend time with what happened, forces you to examine your behavior and the things that you need to improve on. It makes you have to look inside yourself." Alex nodded uncomfortably. "I want you to think back to the beginning of our relationship," Walter said. "Think back to those first few weeks, when you first committed yourself to Fox and me. When we laid down the framework for our life together, discussed the ground rules and the consequences for breaking them." Alex nodded again. "Yes, sir." "Do you remember what things were like then, in the beginning? Getting used to your new life here with us, to the structure and the discipline?" "Yes, Walter." Walter looked at Alex thoughtfully for a moment and then continued. "Alex, you are not the same person that you were three years ago. You've worked hard to leave your old life behind, to learn how to both give and accept love. You learned that a bullet isn't the only way to solve a problem. You learned that you will never regret telling the truth. You learned about loyalty, respect for life...all the things Spender made sure you never had a chance to learn." Alex listened, his hand held securely in Fox's. "What I'm trying to say, Alex, is that learning how to live a whole new life is a very daunting task and you've thrown yourself into it with all you have. You've done everything I've asked of you and more. But like every other human being on this planet, you're a work in progress. You're going to make mistakes. The important thing is that you learn from these mistakes and move on." "Yes, sir," Alex said softly. Walter took off his glasses and lay them carefully on the desk. He looked at Alex, his eyes at once serious and loving. "I'm going to need you to trust me now. I'm going to have to take you back to basics, Alex, to the very beginning of our relationship." Alex bit his lip, huge green eyes watching Walter intently. "You're going to find yourself living under quite a few restrictions, Alex," Walter said quietly. "Restrictions you haven't experienced since your early days here with us. It won't be easy for you, I know, but you need intensified structure and guidance right now." Walter looked at Fox. "I'm going to need your help, too, Fox. We both have to help him through this." "I'll do anything, Walter," Fox said, gazing at Alex lovingly. "Whatever it takes." "Alex," Walter said. "Do you trust me?" "Yes, Walter," Alex said without hesitation. "I...I know it'll be hard, but I know I can do it with you and Fox to help me. I trust you, both of you, and I want the chance to earn back your trust." "All right, Alex," Walter said gently. "Until I tell you otherwise, you are not to leave the house unless either Fox or myself is with you. When I am at home, I want you with me. If I am not home, I want you with Fox. That restriction will be lifted when you've demonstrated that you can be trusted to use sound judgment and restraint. I'm going to ask you to hand over your checkbook and credit cards. Fox and I will make sure you have everything you need. Any purchases you wish to make will be discussed and agreed upon by the three of us. Any questions so far?" "No, sir," Alex mumbled unhappily. He couldn't help feeling wretched at the prospect of spending the next few weeks under virtual house arrest, but he knew that Walter loved him and wanted only the best for him. A small part of him also knew he deserved what he was getting. Walter was right. There were many kinds of punishment besides spanking. "I'm not doing this to make you feel like a prisoner, Alex," Walter said. "I'm not doing it to make you dependent on Fox and me. I'm doing it to help you. Right now, you need me to step in and reassert control, to give you structure and discipline, and that's exactly what I'm going to do." "Y-yes, sir," Alex said quietly. "I'm also going to limit your net access. It's going to be a pretty intense few weeks and I want you to be free to focus on the things we're talking about. If there's something that you need to do online that we agree is important, I'll allow you to use the computer in here. But I'm going to have to ask you not to use the computer you and Fox share and unfortunately, I'm also going to have to ask you to bring me your laptop. We'll talk about your getting it back when we talk about your car, a month from now." Alex looked miserable. The laptop was a cherished Christmas gift from Walter and Fox and he was rarely without it. He met Walter's eyes and nodded sadly. "Yes, Walter." "We're going to be spending a lot of time together, Alex. Even more than usual. Most of that time will be spent here in my study. We're going to do a lot of talking, just as we did in the early days. We're going to break down what happened, figure out why it happened and what you'll do differently next time." Alex flushed and looked down. As much as he hated the feeling of letting Fox and Walter down, of making Walter feel that he had to take such drastic measures, there was a part of him that felt a strange sense of relief at what Walter was saying. He remembered those first days and while he had felt constricted, chafing under the many rules and their consequences, he had also felt a sense of safety and well-being he had never experienced before. "Spending time with you isn't a punishment," Alex mumbled guiltily. "I...I love spending time with you." Walter smiled understandingly. "I know, Rat. I love spending time with you too. Again, the point here is not to make you miserable. You're being punished, yes. But you're also trying to move forward and learn from this experience and that is every bit as important. We're going to do a lot of talking, yes, but I'll warn you now, you're going to be doing plenty of writing." Alex's look of misery intensified. "I know, Rat," Walter said regretfully. "But this is what you need and I am going to make sure you get it. You'll be writing about what happened, as well as your feelings about it and how you plan to change your approach to stressful situations in future. I'm going to want two pages a day from you, no exceptions. There will also be lines, and plenty of them. I want you to sit and concentrate on what you did. This is to help you learn, Alex, and punishment does play a continuing role in that." Alex gulped a little and fidgeted in his chair. "Yes, sir," he said glumly. The next few weeks were looking pretty grim. Walter was silent for a few moments. "This was the second of our most important rules that you broke, Alex," Walter said gravely, his hands clasped on the desk in front of him. "You have to be spanked, there's no question of it. But I'm not going to spank you." He paused. "Fox is." Fox leapt to his feet, a stunned expression on his face. "What? Walter, you can't be serious!" "I am serious, Fox," Walter answered. "It was your temper that contributed to the situation snowballing the way it did. I think this will greatly aid you in remembering the value of patience and understanding. Alex needs to take responsibility for his part in our relationship, but you need to do the same." Fox folded his arms mutinously. "I won't do it, Walter," he said, his voice shaking. "I can't do it." "Yes, you can," Walter said patiently. "And you will." "Please, Walter," Fox said beseechingly. "Please don't make me do this. I said I was sorry for my part in this. I am sorry. Spank me, instead. I've got it coming." Walter beckoned to Fox, who went to him willingly. But instead of finding himself upended over Walter's knee, Fox found himself wrapped in Walter's arms and held closely. Walter said nothing at first, just held Fox until he quieted, until he felt the taut muscles relax and loosen. "Fox, it's true that I am making you do this as a punishment for your own behavior in the restaurant," Walter began quietly. "But I have another reason as well. By mutual agreement, I am the disciplinarian in our relationship and I have no desire to change that. I paddled Alex for his attack on Ian. But I feel it is important for you to share in his punishment for running away, for breaking the promise he made to us both never to leave us again. I want him to really understand that his impetuous actions affected the both of us, not just me." "I don't want to," Fox whispered, giving Alex an anguished look. "I don't want to hurt him." "I'm not asking you to hurt him," Walter answered, running his fingers through Fox's unruly chestnut hair. "I'm asking you to punish him. There is a difference. You should know that by now." Fox nodded uncertainly. "I know, Walter, I didn't mean it like that. I just...I don't want to spank him." "I know," Walter said understandingly. "I know you don't. It's something I have never asked of you before and will hopefully never ask again. I need for him to understand, truly understand on a conscious level, that the three of us are one, and what affects one of us affects us all." "I don't know," Fox said, looking back and forth between them. "It's okay, Fox," Alex said softly, standing up stiffly and unbuttoning his jeans. "Walter's right. You should be a part of this, too. Let's just get it over with. Please?" Fox hesitated a moment longer, then slowly nodded. He walked back to his chair with the air of a man going to meet a firing squad. Alex moved to his side and swiftly lowered his jeans and boxers, trying to make this as easy as possible for his troubled lover. Without waiting for Fox to tell him, Alex lay himself across Fox's lap. After a moment, he felt Fox's arm slide shyly around his waist. Fox's other hand came to rest tentatively on Alex's already hot and sore bottom. "All right, Fox," Walter said, taking no joy in the scene before him. "Give him ten swats." Fox paled a little and then nodded, his eyes lowered. He raised his hand reluctantly. "And Fox," Walter added, "I do mean good hard swats, just like I would give either one of you. If you go too easy on him, I'll have to give him ten more when you're done." Fox took a deep breath and raised his hand, bringing it down squarely on Alex's recently paddled sit spot. Alex tensed and closed his eyes, gritting his teeth in anticipation of the next one. Alex clung to the leg of the chair with a white-knuckled grip as the next swat landed with a loud smack. The sting was unbelievable as Fox's hand connected with Alex's sore and tender backside. Alex bit back a groan, determined to make as little noise as possible, to make it easier for Fox. Fox watched as Alex's reddened flesh deepened in color, the image of his penitent lover bent across his lap blurring as tears filled his eyes. He brought his hand down again and looked at Walter pleadingly. "Go on, Fox," Walter urged, his own heart aching at the sight of his two lovers, both in pain. "Alex, what is this punishment for?" "F-for breaking the rules we agreed on," Alex managed, then gasped as another swat set his butt alight. "For b-breaking my promise not to run away again and...owww...for leaving you! I'm sorry, I won't ever leave again!" "Why should we believe you this time, Alex?" Walter hardened his tone. The words were painful but necessary. "You promised us before. What makes this time different?" "Because...because it is different," Alex tried to explain, his voice trembling with the effort it took to keep it steady. "I promise, Walter, never again! I won't ever do it again!" He hung his head and tried to hold the tears back as Fox, his hand shaking, delivered the final two swats. They echoed loudly in the oak-paneled room. Alex's shoulders shook as he tried to hold back his sobs, not wanting Fox to hear. Choking back tears himself, Fox lifted Alex up, settling him on his lap, feeling the heat from his bottom right through his wool trousers. Fox buried his face in Alex's neck and clung to him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Alex, I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I didn't want to. I love you. I'm to blame for this, I shouldn't have said what I said at the restaurant—" "No, Fox, please," Alex said, "it's me, it's my fault, not yours. Please don't blame yourself. You did the right thing." "That's right," Walter said, coming to stand behind Fox's chair. He leaned down, his strong arms encircling them both. "I love you both so much," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm proud of you both. Thank you for trusting me." He promptly found out he wasn't the only one capable of giving bear hugs as his two younger lovers wrapped their arms around him. "We have one more issue to deal with, Alex," Walter said, "but I think it's best to leave it for now. We'll talk about it after dinner tonight." Alex nodded gratefully. Part of him wanted to get it over with now, but his butt alternately stung and throbbed, and he could see the exhaustion on Fox and Walter's faces. "Okay," he said. He paused and smiled a little. He felt a well of strength open up inside him that he hadn't even known existed. He looked into his lovers' eyes and felt a sense of peace. He could do this. He could do all they asked and more. "I'm going to pull the Jeep into the garage. I won't be needing it for a while." The afternoon passed like any lazy Saturday afternoon in the Skinner-Mulder-Krycek household. After the intensity of the session in Walter's study, the three men needed some time to relax and decompress. Fortunately, it was hockey season, and they settled in to watch the Maple Leafs soundly trounce the Canucks, Fox and Walter cheering lustily whenever Toronto scored a goal, Alex supporting Vancouver out of sheer muleheadedness. Alex lay on his stomach on the sofa, his head pillowed in Walter's lap. Fox disappeared into the kitchen at regular intervals, returning with fresh supplies of cold beer and popcorn. They lost themselves in the game, Walter nearly upsetting the popcorn bowl—and Alex—when the Maple Leafs scored the final goal. "You owe me five bucks, Rat!" Walter crowed. "You can take it out in trade," Alex said huskily, batting his eyelashes at Walter as he sat up, stretching with feline grace. "Hmm...how about a down payment, boy?" Walter said with a grin, leaning down for a kiss. Alex happily obliged, opening his mouth for Walter's tongue, sucking and nibbling at it, eliciting a growl of pleasure from the older man. "Mind if I join in?" Fox said with a wicked grin, wrapping his arms around Alex from behind and heading straight for one of Alex's most sensitive erogenous zones, the soft skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Fox kissed him, then sucked just hard enough to make a mark. He bit down gently, knowing how it drove Alex crazy, and was rewarded with a feral cry of passion from his captive. Alex leaned back against Fox, his eyes glazing over as Fox nipped him again on the other side, then soothed it with slow strokes of his tongue. Alex bucked backward, panting. "MmmOhGodFox—" "I think we'd better take this upstairs," Walter said, unable to resist running a hand up under Alex's shirt and tweaking a nipple. Alex was so hard he was already tugging at the drawstring of his sweatpants, below which was a spreading wet spot. Walter held out his hands. Fox and Alex each took one, allowing Walter to pull them up from the sofa. They made it upstairs in record time. Fox and Alex lay, sprawled and thoroughly debauched, in the ruins of what had previously been a neatly made bed. Fox reached over to the nightstand, displacing Alex, who had been lying with his head on Fox's chest, dozing in post-coital bliss. "Roll over, Alex." Alex stirred and grumbled. "Come on, roll over," Fox urged, stifling a yawn himself. Walter had worn them both out. Funny how sex seemed to make Fox and Alex want to curl up and sleep like cats while Walter only seemed to be invigorated by it, bounding out of bed after, practically humming with energy. Once, after a particularly vigorous lovemaking session, they had found him downstairs painting the living room. Right now, he was downstairs cooking dinner, beef stroganoff, Alex's current favorite, leaving his two gorgeous young lovers to languish upstairs in a pile of rumpled and very well-used sheets. Fox had a feeling that there was method to Walter's madness, and that the older man felt he and Alex needed some time alone. Alex blinked at Fox sleepily and then obediently flipped over onto his stomach. He bunched the pillow up under his head and closed his eyes, his lush black lashes stark against his pale skin. "I gave at the office," he murmured. "You must be really horny, Fox. You don't usually want seconds this early." "That's not why I told you to roll over, Ratboy," Fox said, rolling his eyes. He uncapped the bottle of aloe and waved it under Alex's nose. "I just want to put this on you, okay? Make you feel better." "You don't have to, Fox," Alex mumbled into the pillow. "It doesn't hurt so much now. It's been hours." "I know," Fox admitted, squeezing some of the cooling gel onto his fingers and beginning to spread it over Alex's pinkened cheeks. He could still feel heat in Alex's flesh, and he rubbed the aloe in gently. "It still feels good, though, doesn't it?" "Mmm, yes," Alex said with a drowsy smile. "It feels fantastic. Thank you, Fox." "Anytime," Fox said, smiling down at Alex, his sharp eyes taking everything in. The graceful curve of his back, his perfectly shaped ass, his long muscular legs. God, Alex was beautiful enough clothed, but naked...he was a work of art. Fox rubbed a little more aloe into Alex's skin, focusing on the sit spots that had received so much attention earlier in the day. He sat back on his heels and thought for a moment, not wanting to ruin the mood with questions. "What's wrong?" Alex asked without opening his eyes. He didn't have to see Fox to know he had that faintly puzzled, inquisitive look on his face. "When are you going to tell me what happened?" Fox asked quietly. "Where you went when you left the restaurant, how you got banged up, why you were in jail?" Alex was quiet for a moment, then raised up on his elbows and turned to look at Fox. "I'll tell you now, Fox," he said simply. "If you're sure you want to know." Fox nodded, his eyes large. He motioned for Alex to lie down again and resumed spreading the aloe on him as Alex began to tell the story of what happened, his voice soft in the quiet room. When Alex stopped talking, he turned again to face Fox, who was kneeling there on the bed, his face white, the bottle of aloe forgotten beside him. "They...they almost...God, Alex," he choked. "You could have been raped, you could have been killed. Jesus—" Alex raised up and gently pulled Fox down to lie beside him, stroking his hair comfortingly. "It's okay, Fox," he soothed. "It's okay. I didn't let them, baby. I fought them. I would never have let them take me." "But what if..." Fox said, his voice shaking. "...what if they had overpowered you? What if you hadn't been able to fight them off? What if the bartender hadn't stepped in? You wouldn't just have gotten raped, Alex. You'd be dead. Fucking dead, Alex." "But I'm not, Fox," Alex said softly, snuggling closer. "I won't lie to you, it was pretty close there for a few minutes. But the important thing is that I'm here now, safe and alive." Fox closed his eyes and buried his face in Alex's chest. "What you went through in that alley," he whispered. "Oh God, Alex. When I think of it—" "Don't, please," Alex said gently, his eyes shining. "Please don't, Fox. Don't think about what could have happened. They...they tried but they didn't succeed. I've been through worse." He paused and looked away, his eyes darkening briefly. "I'm sorry, Fox. I wish I didn't have to tell you. But it's the truth, and you have a right to know." "Please don't ever do that again," Fox said fiercely, his eyes wet. "Don't you ever go back to a place like that again. You promise me, Alex." "I promise," Alex said, sealing it with a kiss. "I promise, Fox. Never again." The men dawdled over dinner and took the clean-up slowly, none of them eager to head back into Walter's study and deal with their unfinished business. Finally, it was Alex who put the last plate into the cabinet and said, "I guess it's time. Let's get this over with." Fox and Alex sat in their respective wing chairs. Walter closed the study door and sat on the edge of his desk, his arms folded, regarding Alex sadly. "I don't want to be in here any more than you do," he said gravely. "It's been an exhausting day for us all. I'd like nothing more than for us to forget this and enjoy our evening, but we can't do that, Alex. This is too important." "Yes, Walter," Alex said, looking down, ashamed. "I'm sorry we have to do this." "I'm sorry, too," Walter said. "But we have to address one more issue, and that's the fact that you broke the first rule we ever laid down together. One of the most important rules we have. What is that rule?" Alex swallowed hard. He spoke in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet Walter's eyes because of the sorrow and shame he felt. "I am forbidden to have any contact with anyone or anything associated with the Consortium," he recited softly. "And why did we make that rule, Alex?" Walter pressed. "Why is that so important?" "Because it's dangerous," Alex answered, raising his head a little. "Because it's a part of my old life, a life I don't live anymore. It has no place here." "Then why did you do it?" Fox suddenly exploded, bright spots of color rising on his cheekbones. He got out of his chair and began to pace. "How could you, Alex? How could you go to a place like that, a fucking Consortium hangout? We have one fight and you run right back there? What if some of Spender's people had been there? What if those two bastards who attacked you had been a little faster, a little smarter than you? You could have been killed! How would we have ever known what happened to you?" Alex sat, his eyes lowered, mute and accepting. "Fox," Walter said gently. "It's okay, Walter," Alex said, "he has a right to be angry with me. You both do." "That may be true, Alex," Walter said, "but anger isn't going to solve anything." "I know," Alex said, looking down at his hands. "But he needs to get it out. Maybe you do, too, Walter. You can yell at me. I deserve it." "I'm not going to yell at you, Alex," Walter said solemnly. "I promise you, though, that by the time you leave this room, you are going to understand the seriousness of what you did and what could have happened because of it." "Yes, sir," Alex said quietly. "I think I'm understanding it now." He looked at Fox, who had come to a stop on the other side of the room, staring out of the window, his hands jammed into his pockets. "I'm sorry, Fox," Alex said simply. "I'm sorry for all of it. I shouldn't have gone back there, I know that. I just...when I ran out of the restaurant, I thought it was over. I thought it didn't matter what happened to me. I guess I wanted to...I needed something familiar." He looked away. "I...I don't really know why I did it. I just wanted to drink until I couldn't feel anymore and that was a place I remembered." Fox crossed the room in a few rapid strides and sank down in the opposite wing chair. He reached for Alex's hand and held it tightly. "How could you ever think that, Alex? That it didn't matter what happened to you? You just walk back into a Consortium dive without a second's thought?" "I guess I wasn't doing much thinking at all," Alex mumbled, hanging his head. "I'm sorry." "Just remember what you said upstairs," Fox pleaded, his eyes moist. "You promised you'd never do it again. You promised me, Alex." "I know," Alex said, turning his eyes to Walter. "I did promise him, Walter. And I'm promising you, too. Never again." "I believe you," Walter replied, his expression one of true regret. "But you know that this was a serious breach of our rules. You know what could and very nearly did happen to you. Do you have any idea what it would do to us to lose you, Alex? Any idea at all?" Walter's voice cracked with emotion. Alex gulped and ducked his head again, his eyes bright. "Yes," he admitted softly. "I do know. I know what I did was wrong, dangerous and just plain stupid. I'm sorry." Walter rose and put one hand on Alex's shoulder. "I'm sorry too," he said again. "More than you know. It hurts me to have to punish you, Alex. I want you to remember that." "Yes, Walter," Alex whispered, biting his lip. Walter walked over to the narrow burnished wood cabinet that stood behind his desk and opened the door. He withdrew a slender, whippy cane and laid it on the desk. Alex's eyes followed it with horrified fascination. "I've had this cane for a long time, Alex," Walter said, sitting on the edge of the desk again. "I've never used it on you. I've only used it on Fox once, and that was years ago." "I went after a killer alone," Fox explained quietly, looking down as he spoke. "I ditched Scully and didn't tell anyone where I was going. It was just good luck that the local police pulled the guy over for speeding and they found me tied up in the trunk." "You got ten of the best," Walter said, looking at Fox sternly. "And you deserved every stroke." Fox nodded, his expression grave. Walter looked at Alex, who sat eyeing the cane warily. "Have you ever been caned, Alex?" "N-no, Walter." Walter picked up the cane, holding it in his hands. "I don't like the idea of having to use this on you, Alex," he said, his unhappiness with the job at hand evident on his face. "But this is a very serious offense and for the first time since we began this relationship, I feel it's warranted." He paused, looking into Alex's eyes. "More than that, I feel it's necessary. You know that the rule against you having any connection at all to the Consortium is one of the most important of all of our rules. You know that what you did was dangerous and thoughtless. You weren't thinking about your own safety and well-being and you weren't thinking about Fox and myself. You were very nearly raped and could have been killed." Walter put the cane down and rolled up his sleeves. Alex paled visibly. "In short," Walter concluded, "you endangered yourself, first and foremost. You also endangered our relationship by doing something you knew was expressly forbidden and putting yourself in a potentially life-threatening situation. Alex, I said earlier that you are not the same person now as you were when you first came here. One reason for that is that for the last three years you have had no contact with anyone or anything from your former life. I intend to keep it that way. I want you to think twice before you ever even consider breaking the promise you made to the both of us today." Alex nodded, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. His heart seemed to be pounding in his throat. He had never been caned before, but he'd heard stories. He had a feeling it was going to be an experience he wouldn't soon forget. He looked up at Walter again, trust, not fear, shining in his eyes. "I...I know how serious it was, what I did," he said quietly. "I know what a serious punishment the cane is. I can see how much you hate using it. I'm..." he trailed off, a lump in his throat. "I'm sorry for making you have to do it." "Thank you, Alex," Walter said. "You're right. I do hate to use it. That's why this is the first time it's been out of that cabinet in a very long time. I never wanted to have to use it again. But I think it's the only appropriate punishment for so serious an infraction." He stood up and picked up the cane, gesturing toward the desk. "Sweats and boxers down, please. Go ahead and step out of them," he said briskly, wanting to get the caning over as soon as possible. "Over the desk, please, Alex. I'm going to give you six of the best," he added as Alex stood and walked over to the desk, "plus one for refusing medical attention at the jail. You know how I feel about that." "Yes, Walter," Alex said, tugging his boxers down to join the sweats already pooled at his ankles. He kicked them off, and at Walter's nod, bent over the desk, the polished wood cold against his bare skin. A slight cough was heard from Fox's direction. "Walter, I should go—" "No, Fox. Stay where you are," Walter interjected. "I want you to stay for this. I want this to help you remember as well." Fox nodded unhappily. Alex gripped the edge of the desk and waited. Walter put one hand on the small of Alex's back while the other hand raised the cane high. "I'm not going to lie to you, Alex," he said gently. "This will hurt. Feel free to cry out, but please try not to move." Alex nodded and closed his eyes, his mouth set in a tight line. He deserved this. He could do this. "Count, please." Walter's voice was followed by the unmistakable swish of the cane. It was a moment before Alex felt the line of fire it had drawn across his naked backside. He sucked in his breath and held it, forced himself to count to ten. "One," he finally gasped. Shit, it hurt! And he had six more to go. The cane sliced down again, painting another neat line directly below the first. Alex jumped a little and felt Walter's hand pressing down a little more firmly. "Remember to hold still, Alex," Walter warned. "Count, please." "T-two!" Alex gasped, resting his cheek against the desk blotter. He panted, trying to breathe through the pain. "You're doing well, Alex," Walter said, raising his arm again. "Only five more to go. What is this punishment for, Alex? Why are you getting a caning?" Alex screwed his eyes tight shut as the dreaded swish came again and so did the indescribable burning pain, this time right in the sensitive crease between his buttocks and thighs. "I...ow! Jesus! Th-three! I...because I broke one of the most important rules!" He blurted, tears threatening to squeeze past his thick lashes. "I went back to a place I used to go to when I was in the Consortium! I put myself in danger!" "That's right, Alex," Walter agreed, laying another stripe down. Alex's grip on the edge of the desk tightened, turning his knuckles white. His gasp echoed in the small room. "F-four," Alex managed, a hitching sob breaking free. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Walter, please—" "Only three more, Alex," Walter said soothingly, his own heart heavy at the sound of Alex's cries. A glance at Fox proved that he, too, was suffering with every stroke. Alex steeled himself, trembling with the effort of remaining still, waiting for the next stroke. He heard the cane split the air and groaned even before it made contact. "Ow! Oh God—" Alex began to plead, hating the sound of it but unable to stop himself. "Please, Walter, no more. I'm sorry, I swear I am, please—" "I know you are," Walter said soothingly. "Only two more. Count for me now, Alex." Alex fought to get himself under control. "Five," he managed at last, panting. The sixth stroke cut right across his sit spots, causing Alex to hiss and arch, despite his best efforts to obey Walter and remain still. He felt the warm weight of Walter's hand on his back and pressed himself to the desk again, his chest heaving. "S-six!" he shouted, sobbing openly. He began to babble, the agony that was his backside shutting out all else. "Please, Walter, please, oh God, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry—" Walter waited, rubbing circles on Alex's exposed back, until Alex subsided a little, his chest hitching as he tried to quiet himself. "I know, Rat," Walter said, tears standing in his own eyes. He looked down at the hated implement he clutched in his hand. "I know it hurts. I hope this will help you remember and never forget that you have a new life now, here with us, and that we love you. Remember that your old life and all that went with it are over and they have no place here." Walter paused, composing himself. Fox bowed his head, wiping surreptitiously at his eyes. "We claimed you from that life, Alex," Walter continued, his voice trembling. "We claimed you from it and we're not giving you back." "Don't want to go back," Alex choked, his cheek against the desk. "I'm sorry, I swear. I won't do it again. Never, Walter. Never." "I'm glad," Walter replied softly, reluctantly raising the cane once more. "One more and it's over. Tell me why you're getting an extra stroke, Alex." Alex closed his eyes and swallowed. The thought of even one more stroke was enough to make him shiver. The thought of sitting down anytime in the near future was ludicrous at best. He knew now why Walter had made him take his sweats and boxers off instead of just pulling them down. "B-because I refused medical attention after I'd been hurt," he whispered. "I endangered myself. I...I thought I didn't matter anymore." "That's right, Alex," Walter said, trying to keep his own emotions at bay. "That's never ever acceptable. You do matter, and you must always give your health and well-being top priority. Endangering your health is one very sure way to end up right where you are now," he admonished. He brought the cane down one final time. Alex threw his head back and howled, the count forgotten for good. Walter threw the cane down and gathered Alex into his arms. Alex clung to him like a limpet as Walter lead him into the living room. There, he gently lay Alex face down on the sofa. Alex hid his face in his arms and wept quietly. "I'll go get the aloe," an ashen-faced Fox said, heading for the stairs. "Ice is better at first," Walter said, heading for the kitchen. "But we'll need the aloe later." Walter quickly filled a large plastic freezer bag with ice and wrapped it in a thin teatowel. Returning to the living room, he carefully lifted Alex's head and sat down, resting Alex's head in his lap. Alex wrapped himself around Walter as much as he could while in his prone position. He bared his teeth and hissed as the ice pack was lowered onto his extremely sore bottom. "Easy, Alex," Walter said, rubbing Alex's back. "It'll feel better in a minute." Gradually, the ice began to do its work, and Alex stilled, his head pillowed on Walter's thigh. "Sorry," Alex murmured, almost too softly to hear. "So sorry, Walter." "Shhh," Walter said, rubbing circles between Alex's shoulderblades. "It's over now, Rat. You've been punished and it's over. I'm proud of you and I love you. Fox loves you. Everything's going to be all right." Alex let out a faint sigh and fell asleep, leaving Walter and Fox to attend to his throbbing bottom. Walter kept the ice on, sending Fox to the kitchen to refill the bag with fresh cubes so as not to awaken Alex. When the second bag of ice was reduced to water, Fox dumped it into the sink and then, gently, coated Alex's bottom with aloe, passing carefully over the angry red stripes the cane had left. "I wish I didn't have to do that," Walter said, looking down. "The way he cried..." Fox stood behind the sofa and put his arms around Walter, holding him the way Walter had held him so many times. "I know," he said softly. "He knows, too. We both know how lucky we are that you love us enough to do the hard things. The things that hurt you, too." They stayed like that for a little while, Fox's head resting on Walter's shoulder, Walter's hand covering Fox's, Alex sleeping soundly beside them. Three days later... Fox was stacking the lunch dishes when the doorbell rang. A glance into the living room, where Walter napped on the sofa and Alex sat glumly paging through a book on anger management, proved that no one else was going to get the door. Wiping his hands on the teatowel, Fox went to the front door and opened it. "Hello, Fox," Terrance said apologetically. "So sorry for not calling first, but Ian and I are just passing back through town on our way back home. May we come in?" "Uh, sure," Fox said, surprised. "Can I get you anything?" "Oh, no thank you," Terrance said. "We've only got a few minutes." He paused in the entranceway and waited for Ian to follow him in. The smaller man entered and stood close to his partner, looking around the place anxiously, his blond hair flopping into his eyes. "Hullo, Fox," he mumbled. "Hi, Ian," Fox said politely. "What can I...?" "Oh, yes, forgive me," Terrance said. "Is...is Alex about?" Fox blinked, surprised again. "Yes," he said, "just a moment." He walked into the living room, wondering what this was all about, and hoping it didn't prove disastrous. He woke Walter, who quickly sat up, smoothed his hair and put on his glasses. Alex put down his book but hesitated at following Fox and Walter into the entranceway. A glance from Walter inspired him and he shuffled along behind them, hands in his pockets, glowering. Absence had not made the heart grow fonder in the case of Alex and Ian. Alex eyed him warily. The little shit. He sighed inwardly. He shouldn't have done what he did, but Fox was right, the limey's attitude hadn't helped matters. "Hello, Alex," Terrance said, extending his hand. After a moment's pause, Alex stepped forward and shook it briefly. "Hello." "Um, look," Terrance said quickly. "I'm terribly sorry for barging in like this, but it's rather important." He gave Ian a meaningful look. Ian responded to Terrance with a definite "do I have to?" look. Another look from Terrance. Yes, you have to. Ian gulped and stepped forward, nervously shoving the hair out of his eyes as he did. He looked back at Terrance pleadingly, but Terrance was implacable. Ian approached Alex warily, then stopped in front of him and stared at the floor, his hands in his pockets. "I came to say sorry," he mumbled. The sound of Terrance clearing his throat was loud in the small space. Ian looked up into Alex's eyes, which were displaying wariness of their own. "I-I'm sorry, Alex," Ian said humbly. "There was no excuse for my rude and boorish behavior in the restaurant and I apologize." Alex stared at him. Slowly, tentatively, as though he were afraid it would be bitten off, Ian extended his hand. After a long moment, Alex took it and shook it once. He didn't have to look at Walter to know what was expected. "I'm...I'm sorry, too," he said, looking down. "I shouldn't have done what I did." He paused. "No matter how I was provoked," he muttered. Walter cleared his throat. "Uh, anyway, I was wrong and I apologize," Alex added hastily. There was silence for a moment. Walter stepped forward. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come in and sit down? Have some coffee?" he asked. All three men noticed Ian's already pale complexion whiten significantly at the use of the word "sit". "Oh, no thank you," Terrance said again. "We'd love to, I'm sure, but we've got to get to Dulles in time to catch our plane." "Well, please look us up next time you're in town," Fox said, walking Terrance and Ian to the door. "Thank you for stopping by." "You're quite welcome," Terrance replied. "It was good to see you again, Fox, and to meet Walter and Alex. Come, Ian." With a sheepish bob of his head, Ian followed Terrance out to the car. Fox closed the door and leaned against it. "Well." "Well, indeed," Walter agreed, pulling Alex to him for a bear hug. "You did the right thing, Alex. I'm proud of you." "Me too," Fox said, wrapping his arms around Alex's waist. "I think we're pretty lucky he keeps us around, Walter." "Yes," Walter said, looking down into clear green eyes. "I'd say we're pretty lucky." Alex lay his head on Walter's shoulder, reached back and pulled Fox close. He was home. end Author's note: Ussuriyskiy Balzam is one of many brands of flavored vodka made in Russia and almost unknown outside of it. Apparently invented in Latvia before the 1700s, when Norwegian traders first began hauling it back home, balzam has it roots in Russian folk medicine. Each inky-black concoction is a blend of local herbs, berries, spices, roots and a hefty dose of pure alchohol. Other brands include Riga Balzam and Astrakhan Balzam. Ingredients vary as much as the Russian landscape, incorporating everything from raspberry, mint and chamomile to ginseng and red linden berries. (Source: Richmond Times-Dispatch, February 15, 2001) Lorelei633@aol.com

Title: Late Author: Lorelei Pairing: Sk/M/K Rating: NC-17 for m/m interaction, spanking, discipline, language, sexy stuff Spoilers: Please assume all Krycek eps Disclaimer: Does it matter anymore? Warning: This is a domestic discipline story, containing spanking and other forms of punishment. Some scenes are explicit. If this is not your thing, turn back. Please do not ignore the warnings, read the story, and then write to me and complain about it. I don't want to hear it. Status: New/Series. Takes place in the "Christmas Trilogy" universe and follows "Red", "Green", "Gold", "Rainy Days and Mondays", "The Scent of Battle" and "Licorice Whips." Archive: Yes to Persuaders, RatB, SKSA, Basement. Anyone else please ask first. Feedback: Yes, please. Lorelei633@aol.com Thanks: A girl can't have too many mentors and I'm very lucky to have two of the best there are. Thanks to HollyIlex for wise and insightful beta, for catching my mistakes and for always asking the questions that lead me to answers I hadn't thought of. Thanks to Josan, the best Maman anyone could ever ask for, for additional beta, keen observations, sly humor and for always teaching me. Thanks also to the ST gang and to Elizabeth for patience and encouragement. Summary: Angst alert! Alex, Walter and Fox face their biggest crisis yet when Alex lets his fears take him from those who love him most. Author's Note: Krycek has two arms. Dedication: To Ursula, a heartfelt and very belated birthday present. Happy Birthday, Ursula. This is for you. back to top

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