Alex Krycek stared down at the tape he had just taken from Walter
Skinner's office. Evidence of Fox Mulder's bizarre behaviour at the
moment. Evidence he planned to destroy before the remaining
members of the Consortium, including Spender, the Smoker got to hear
about it. He wondered again why he was bothering to protect Mulder. Why
he tried to find information to help the agent. Why he was willing to
risk capture in the FBI building and why he had suborned Walter Skinner,
long time Consortium source, into helping him. Skinner wouldn't reveal
Mulder's weakness now. He knew what would happen to him if he did. Alex
had made that quite clear. And the degree of his protective ferocity had
made the older man's eyes widen, and a new realisation dawn there.
Alex wanted to tell him he was mistaken. He and Fox Mulder were nothing
to each other. Not now! Once, a couple of years ago, he and his Fox had
spent a memorable, wonderful night together. They had made love for most
of the night........ Just before Mulder had tried to kill himself with
Alex's gun. And all because of Robert Modell, the Pusher, a man long
dead now. Pusher had used his unique psychic talent to force people to
do his will, and had influenced Mulder in a deliberate attempt to
humiliate and torture him. He had left a post hypnotic suggestion in
Mulder's unconscious mind, ordering him to spend the night with a man
then shoot himself. Which is exactly what Mulder would have done in pain
and humiliation, if only Alex hadn't come along. And the strength of
their passion had helped Mulder to resist Modell's command.
Alex remembered how foolish he had been, when he found out that Mulder
hadn't slept with him voluntarily. In his pride..... or perhaps because
he had no confidence in himself so soon after losing his arm, Alex had
stormed off. He had ignored Mulder's plea for him to stay. What a fool
he'd been. If only he'd had the courage to stay and work things
out.......
And the memories of that night had haunted him ever since.
Alex had only spoken with Mulder once since then, and had given him
information on the alien resistance. But by then, Mulder's mental
barriers were back up, and there had been an anger and hostility in the
older man's eyes when he looked at Alex. The pain of rejection.......
Alex knew that feeling only too well. He didn't even know why he had
tried. But for once his longing had overwhelmed him, and he had kissed
Mulder. He could still remember the scent of the agent, the slight rasp
of stubble across his cheek. The brief flash of some unknown emotion,
quickly suppressed. Mulder hadn't pulled away, but then he hadn't
reciprocated either. He had just stared at Alex until the tension became
too much, and the younger man had regretfully given up and left.
Since then, Alex had seen Mulder only from a distance. Once when he had
threatened Skinner. And a couple of times when he had secretly spied on
his one time lover.
What a mess their lives were!
And now his secret sources informed him that the Consortium was taking a
new interest in Fox Mulder for some reason. Something to do with an
apparently alien artefact that had been recently discovered. Mulder had
started to behave oddly under its influence, as if subjected to some
great mental stress. Alex needed to know more. And so he had visited a
scientific expert who worked for the Consortium. And without
compunction, had killed the man after he had thoroughly been
interrogated. Perhaps stuffing the body in a garbage disposal unit had
been a trifle extreme, but Alex was beginning to realise that he would
do anything for Fox.
Odd to realise now, of all times, that he loved the man.
Mulder couldn't seem to focus his thoughts properly. With increasing
regularity, waves of sound and an intense pain were penetrating his
brain, making him feel dizzy and sick. It had started, to a lesser
degree, the first time he had seen a copy of the symbols written on an
alleged alien artefact. And when he had seen a mere rubbing of the same
signs, his present difficulties had begun.
Gabbling of a thousand voices
He had to find that damned scientist, get an explanation........ Was it
really alien? Even as he rushed out of the man's office in search of
him, the pain intensified. Something to do with being surrounded by so
many people. His senses were reaching saturation point. The noise in his
head was almost overwhelming. He pushed his way through a door into the
stairwell of the building, and took two steps. Then his legs gave way
beneath him and he collapsed.
Cacophony
He was aware of the coolness of the concrete beneath his cheek. The
sound of footsteps oddly divorced from the roar in his head. The aching
pain in his brain made him whimper. The footsteps came closer and
closer, finally paused next to him. He couldn't even raise his head, the
nausea and agony were so great. He felt a brief coolness against his
cheek, and a gentle brush of fingers across his forehead.
Fox....... My Fox.......
The strangely familiar voice echoed inside his head, momentarily
eclipsing the others, so that he gasped in relief. Then there was the
sound of a nearby door opening, and the hand touching him was withdrawn
with a curse that may or may not have been inside his head. He felt the
presence of the other fade away into the distance and moaned in protest,
even as the voices returned in an tremendous clamour that sent him
spinning into blackness.
They had placed Fox Mulder in a mental hospital.
Fowley! That bitch! She had taken Mulder away and tried to interrogate
him. But without success. She had tried to seduce Mulder and find out
what he knew about the alien artefact. Whether it whispered the secrets
of the cosmos to his overloaded brain. And because he trusted her,
Mulder had told her enough about what was happening to him to intrigue
her.
And yet in the end, Mulder had somehow divined Fowley's intention to
betray him. The bitch had tasered him and the effect had been so
traumatic on his overloaded brain that he had almost drowned in his own
vomit.
Alex vowed vengeance. But he was still left with the problem of what to
do next. Alex had received the news later that day from his Consortium
colleagues. He was still trusted at the moment.......
They would keep Mulder in the high security wing of the hospital, and
like Gibson Praise, he would be tested, and experimented on, until the
scientists could figure out what was happening inside his brain.
Alex moaned softly to himself, and closed his eyes. He still remembered
the look of sad resignation on Gibson's face as he was led away to the
labs.
No!
Not while there was still breath in his body!
Mulder shook his head dazedly for the umpteenth time, trying in vain to
clear the fog that filled his brain. He wasn't sure where he was, or why
he was here, but he remembered pain in his head, and strong emotions
that seemed unnatural, exaggerated. As if he couldn't quite control his
own thoughts any more. He had a vague recollection of seeing Scully
watching him. Her concern, the caring warmth she felt for him as she
watched his disintegration on a monitor screen. He had screamed and
screamed her name until his throat was raw from the effort. But she
hadn't come.
That wasn't quite right........
He hadn't seen her...... The room was enclosed, padded....... And yet he
had known beyond all doubt that she was there.
There was also a recollection of Diana Fowley leaning over him,
smiling....... on his bed.......
That wasn't right either.......
He wouldn't have let her touch him, would he?
All he really remembered after that was a terrible sense of betrayal,
when he thought about her. But whether she had betrayed him, or he had
betrayed some part of himself, he didn't know.
Hate was a good feeling. It cut through the fog a little. Sharpening his
mind, but bringing with it the first twinges of pain.
No!
The pain was coming back. And with its touch, he heard the first
voices start to murmur inside his mind. He twisted his head back and
forward, trying to avoid them. When had they strapped him down? He
couldn't remember.
Useless to fight the pain
Useless to try and avoid that terrifying place where the voices
screamed.
He was sorry already, that he had fought to escape the effects of the
sedation. He moaned, hating his weakness, but wanting to drift again in
that white fog.
The door of the room opened and he couldn't hold back the rush of relief
when he saw the white coated figure enter. Now they would inject him
again and the pain would go away again. But then he saw the doctor's
face.
Alex Krycek!
"Shit!"
Alex Krycek bent over the prone form of Fox Mulder, taking in the
bloodshot, pain filled eyes and the bewildered pain in the hazel eyes.
He had never seen Mulder look so wretched. Mulder's pupils were huge, an
effect of the tranquilliser he was on, and yet they had deemed it
necessary to apply the full restraints, as if he was a psychotic
patient. Not that Fox Mulder had ever been one hundred percent stable,
but he didn't usually pose that kind of danger.
"Alex......." Mulder gritted out the word. "Come to gloat.......?" He
tried to lift his head to glare at Krycek, but even that much effort
left his head spinning, and he moaned as pain stabbed between his eyes.
The voices seemed to redouble in volume and everything blurred for a
moment. When the world reassembled itself, all the surfaces of wall and
floor around him seemed haloed in luminous shades of green and blue. He
giggled at the mad light show around him, but once again, the pain
returned to remind him of his misery.
Alex was doing something at his chest, as he stared into space,
wondering why the walls rippled with magenta.
Goddamn it Fox. You've gotta help me here.....
Someone..... who was it? Alex! ..... was trying to get him upright. An
arm was awkwardly round his shoulder, trying to pull him to his feet.
.....Stupid damn arm........
"....Hurts, Alex...." Why was he telling the rat bastard that. Alex
didn't want him. Alex didn't care.
Krycek was muttering curses as he tugged at Mulder. The arm tightened
around him, tugging, and he found his head resting on Krycek's shoulder.
He leaned into the warmth he found there, something about it seeming to
push the dark, terrible sound of the voices away from him a little.
Yeah. That's it. Come on baby.....
Mulder giggled softly to himself at that, no longer thinking very
coherently. The warm body started to draw back from him and he stumbled
along, trying to maintain contact. Trying to keep the horror at bay.
Wrapping his arms around Alex as closely as possible.
Alex sighed in relief. For a moment, he had thought that it would be
impossible to manage Mulder, with his one good arm, it was all but
impossible to drag the older man's body. But with the last of his
strength, Fox was managing to force his body to move. Slowly, with
drunkenly inept steps, Mulder succeeded in walking. His arms still
clutched in a death grip, on Alex's leather jacket, and they made their
way as quickly as Mulder could move, to a waiting hire van in the
parking lot. Mulder never even noticed how easy it was.
......Lucky I killed those guards.......
Alex pushed Mulder in through the sliding side door of the white van,
and slid the door closed. Then he took off, driving as fast as he dared,
away from the hospital.
....have to change vehicles........ caught on security
cameras.......
Mulder began to moan in agony, his body doubling over, as they reached
his other vehicle, a nondescript black car parked on a leafy suburban
street. It was the work of moments to push the unresisting Mulder into
the passenger seat, and drive away, abandoning the van. Mulder kept on
whimpering in that distressing way. Alex tried to ignore the sound.
.....soon baby...... hold on.....
Finally he could stand the sound of Mulder's distress no longer, and
pulled the car over. He reached over to touch Mulder's shoulder, and
heard the older man gasp as Alex's hand brushed against his face.
Mulder was in hell. The voices...........
screaming and shouting and laughing and crying and howling and sobbing
and........
He couldn't block out the sound no matter what he tried. They only got
louder and more insistent, hammering a nail into his overloaded brain.
Then Alex touched him, skin against skin. And the mind that was Alex
brushed against his, eclipsing the voices, forcing them into the
background, sending them into the distance where they were muted and
bearable. With a deep sigh, his head relaxed against Alex's shoulder,
his hair brushing against Alex's smooth cheek. Some part of him
recognised with surprise, the degree of concern and love in this man's
mind. He clung to it, as a drowning man would cling to a rock, the only
stability in a world gone mad. And he sighed softly, whispered a
response.
"I never knew you loved me Alex."
Even as Alex was still trying to process that startling announcement,
Mulder's arms wrapped around him, and the agent sagged against him in
exhausted sleep.
Mulder would never remember much about the next few hours. His brain
perhaps blocked out the memories of overwhelming pain. He would retain a
confused impression of Alex close to him....., the sharp sting of a hypo
in his arm....., movement in more than one vehicle. Once, the nausea of
travelling over water...... And finally, a blessed silence inside his
mind, as the voices gradually faded and were gone.
He awoke on the afternoon of the third day after his rescue. It was
actually his convulsive movement to throw off the light sheet that
covered him, that brought him fully awake. He was in a small, clean
bedroom, the decor of which was simple and vaguely Shaker. Something
countrified and well crafted.
The air was cool and fresh, and the sun slanting through slatted wooden
blinds on the window argued that it was well past midday, possibly even
late afternoon. The sunlight caught upon the first faint strands of a
spider's web that was being created as he watched, one patient strand at
a time.
Mulder sat up in bed, the coverlet falling further onto the floor at the
side of the bed. He felt hungry, and it seemed as though his mind was
awake and clear for the first time in weeks. Had it been that long? He
had no clear recollection of how long he had been out of touch, but he
suspected that it had been a long time. He rose to his feet, half
surprised to find no trace of stiffness or fatigue in his body. Still
naked, he made his way to the window and peered out. The rolling grass
of the Prairies met his gaze. As far as he could tell, at least on this
side of the house, there was no sign of civilisation. Hardly surprising,
some farms in the Mid West were so isolated that you could walk for days
and not see any signs of civilisation. And this was apparently one such
farm. He could see a whitewashed fence marking a small corral, to one
side of the property.
He couldn't remember coming here, no matter how much he tried. His last
coherent memory was being in the doctor's office and looking at a small
piece of paper that had some smudged markings on one side. Things got a
little fuzzy after that. Faces appeared in his mind, in no discernible
order. Diana Fowley, Skinner, Scully. And Alex Krycek...... How long had
it been since he had seen that rat? He closed his eyes briefly, as
memories returned unbidden, of that one time when they had been more
than enemies...... but ultimately less than lovers. The rejection still
stung, despite the lapse of two lonely years.
Alex slowly sliding into him, as he begged for it on hands and
knees......
Alex grinning, as he lay back on the sheets, an all too satisfied
gleam in his eyes
Alex as his face contorted in despair, and he fled the scene of their
one night stand, never to return
The brief flash of hope in the Rat's face as his lips brushed against
Mulder's cheek in the semi-darkness of Mulder's apartment
What a mess!
The sudden creak of the door behind him startled Mulder out of his
reverie. He turned expectantly, to face the person who had brought him
here, needing an explanation for his present circumstances. And gasped
as he found himself face to face with the Rat himself.
Alex saw his shock, and those full lips curved slightly, registering
amusement.
"What the hell's going on Krycek? Why did you bring me here? What do you
want, you son of a bitch?"
Something hardened in Krycek's face, and the assassin's voice, when he
spoke, was glacially cool.
"You don't remember, do you Fox?"
Mulder glared at his nemesis. "Remember what? Did you kidnap me to stop
me finding out the truth about that artefact?"
Alex shook his head. "Don't you feel hungry Fox?" He knew he had the
upper hand. "And don't you think this conversation would be more
civilised if you put some clothes on?" His eyes wandered in a slow,
deliberate drift across Fox Mulder's naked body, and the smile returned
when he saw a slight flush cross Mulder's face, interestingly colouring
other parts of his body too.
Mulder watched Krycek's eyes move across his body, deliberately
taunting, and before he could stop his response, he felt his cock twitch
in response. He quickly turned away, but not before the damage had been
done. He heard Alex hiss in surprise.
Oh shit!
Being naked and at a disadvantage in front of Alex Krycek was a hell of
a way to start the day. And his body readily begin to respond, all too
willing to announce its approval of the leather clad assassin.
"Get out Krycek and let me dress." Mulder fumbled for the shirt he had
seen hanging over the back of a wooden chair, close by the end of the
bed.
Alex had frozen when he saw what effect he was having on Mulder. He
couldn't have moved if he had wanted to, which he assuredly didn't.
Being in the same room as Mulder tended to have that effect. And the
hoarse sound of Mulder's voice brought its own kind of torment. The man
sounded breathless and needy, all at once, as if he was begging to be
fucked through the wall.
"No!" Alex said softly.
"Please....." Mulder managed. He sounded so desolate, that before he
could stop himself, Alex reached out and touched his former lover.
WANT NEED LOVE HEAT FIRE DESPAIR
A tangled whirl of emotions broke into Fox Mulder's mind, the pent up
desperation and longing in Alex Krycek's mind. Mulder couldn't hope to
control the passionate outburst that filled his mind. His brain,
sensitive now to the merest whisper of thought, was lost in the flood. A
true telepathic response. And even as it washed over him, he remembered
the traumatic events of the past week, the hospital, his colleagues'
betrayals.
But this time was different. This far from civilisation, there was no-
one else within range of his mind but Alex. There was no pain, it took
the combined assault of thousands of minds close to his in the city to
drive him out of his mind.
Not here and now though.
He could bear the touch of just one mind. Though his body couldn't
resist the sudden wave of another's desire as it flooded through him.
With a low groan of longing, he turned and pulled Alex Krycek hard
against him. He felt the startled response more as a flash of colour
within his mind, then Alex yielded against him in boneless surrender.
They kissed, and to his surprise, Mulder could feel the pleasure of the
other man as he ran his tongue along the ridges in Alex's mouth. He did
it again, more urgently, demanding the kiss, and with a growing sense of
wonder, felt the heat flash through Alex's mind. He began to have some
small suspicions of what had happened to him.
....Need to undress.... .....Damn arm.... ......So good.....
He was hearing Alex Krycek's thoughts. By some miracle. And yet more
wonderful still was the feel of this man close to him once again. The
heady, addictive smell of leather, the dark clad body pressed against
his, the lean torso that felt so wonderful in his arms. His hands began
to push up the dark t-shirt with its obscure logo about some insect
topic, maybe a band....? He felt a need to respond to Alex's awkwardness
about his injury, an strange gentleness. Odd how a single glimpse into
Alex Krycek's mind had brought that out in him. There was an unguarded
vulnerability about the younger man's thoughts. He would have to think
about the ethics of reading minds..... but not just yet...... He had
uncovered that delectable torso, and was testing Alex's response,
trailing his tongue across the left nipple and admittedly enjoying the
way Alex's thoughts turned incoherent. In fact, to a very
uncharacteristic joyous entreaty that was curiously endearing.
He pushed back until Alex's legs were pressed against the edge of the
bed, and the two of them tumbled back onto the bed.
Was that really a joyous whoop he heard in the younger man's mind?
On top of Alex, he realised that he could quite quickly become addicted
to the taste of Alex's mind. He cupped the younger man's face between
his hands and stared down into the green eyes. Alex stilled, and watched
him uncertainly. He could feel the heat of the other's skin, the hard
nipples pressing against his chest. He could feel the younger man's
erection pressing against his, and it was hard not to rub himself
against the other.
"Is this what you intended Alex? When you brought me here. For us to end
up in bed......?" Mulder had to know. Alex shook his head, and Mulder
received a confused impression of desperation and fear for him, a sense
of reckless flight and worry for him.
"That's all I wanted to know!" Mulder kissed Alex hard. He drew back and
saw the delectable sight of Alex in the throes of passion, head flung
back, mouth reddened from the pressure of his lips, breathing rapidly.
He ran his fingers down the sleek flanks, finding a new joy in the small
echoes of delight that resounded in his partner's mind. This was like
no other encounter he had ever known. Alex was so sweet to the touch, so
responsive. And he felt so right. Secure and safe. Gentle and tender.
Alex Krycek? The Rat himself?
He was swept away on a wave of desire, before he could even consider
that thought. Drawn down into the body that writhed and moaned in his
arms, as he sought the most delectable places to probe with fingers and
tongue. He was a telepath, and he knew what his partner's most
secret dreams and desires were. From the moment his tongue first swirled
across a flat belly and he heard the gasps, mental and physical, that
were elicited.
Alex would never forget this night, not ever. There was a tongue working
busily between his legs, and
he was being taken from one plateau to a higher peak, just by the newly
expert touches of this man. It had never been like this before. Mulder
seemed to know exactly what to do to reduce Alex to a shivering, moaning
mass. He didn't yield himself up lightly to any man. But he had without
hesitation spread himself wide for this man in a gesture of trust, so
unlike his usual self. Fox Mulder had smiled brilliantly, and proceeded
to drive him out of his mind, again and again, knowing with uncanny
accuracy when his partner was about to come, and drawing back from the
brink.
Did he know that he had been given Alex Krycek's soul, along with his
body?
Then there was a pause, and he caught a glorious glimpse of Mulder
poised above him, panting with exertion, and the effort of holding
himself back.
"Fox, oh yeah! Now.... Please...."
Whether it was in mind, body or both, Mulder didn't know. But his
response was to push his way into Alex, gasping at the heat of
penetration.
Pain Heat FUCK!! THERE FOX!!
His mind lost whatever coherence it had left. There was only the white
fire of taking/being taken. There was no longer a separation between
Alex and himself. Only the glory of sliding in and drawing back in a
maelstrom of fire. Someone was screaming, it could have been Alex,
himself, or even both of them in unison. Then fireworks exploded in his
head, the combined orgasms of both of them echoing inside his skull, a
volume surely far too small to contain the detonation.
Mulder fainted.
"You okay?" Alex sounded uncertain. He gave a tentative little smile,
slightly guilty, as if he was afraid he had harmed his Fox.
Mulder lay languorously on the bed, staring at the half completed web on
the corner of the window.
"I'm alright Alex. Why don't you go make us some breakfast? I could do
with the extra calories after that workout!" Alex beamed a grin at him
full force, and headed for the kitchen, chuckling over the fact that it
was four in the afternoon.
After a while, Mulder slowly dragged himself to his feet. He couldn't
remember ever feeling so good. Not just physically satisfied, but with
the warm glow of Alex's mind touch echoing in the background, like a cat
purring. Admittedly, an extremely satisfied cat. There was a hint of
something deeper there too, that Mulder didn't want to examine too
closely. He would have liked to pretend it was just deep affection, but
he knew better. It was curiously soothing. And damned addictive. He was
sure he could get used to this life quickly.
He had a relaxed shower, then pulled on a bath robe and headed for the
busy sounds of Alex cooking.
His partner greeted him, and began to chop some mushrooms on the kitchen
work surface.
"Omelette okay?" Alex said. Mulder nodded, and moved forward to wrap his
arms around Alex's waist as he worked. Alex leaned into the embrace of
the man holding him from behind. The mind-purr increased about ten fold.
Mulder buried his face in the warm chestnut hair, let his lips tickle
the back of Alex's neck. Alex squirmed, and moved his head to let Mulder
nuzzle the side of his neck.
"Strange, isn't it Alex!" Mulder sighed into the warm skin. "That we
ended up in bed together. I used to think you guilty of so much. So many
killings......"
He hadn't intended to criticise Alex, just be open about there
relationship. But he wasn't prepared for the briefest flash of memory
that came into Alex's mind.
A picture of Mulder's father at the end of Alex's gun.
Alex blithely went on preparing food, his mind-contentment unchanged,
until he felt the stiff and unresponsive figure next to him. Surprised,
he turned, but was totally unprepared for the fist that caught him on
the side of the jaw, knocking him to the floor.
"You son of a bitch! You did kill my father!
Alex stared at him, as he began to get an inkling of what had just
happened. What the scientist had suspected was true. He had brought Fox
away from civilisation just in case it was true. But to have the
suspicion of telepathy confirmed like this!
Mulder snatched up the abandoned food knife and pressed it against
Alex's chest.
"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now, you black hearted bastard?"
Alex stared dully at his lover.
"Go ahead. You know I won't fight you. If you saw that much inside my
head then look at the rest."
He opened his mind to Mulder, showing him what had really happened that
night.
Bill Mulder facing Alex's gun
Bill Mulder yelling abuse at Alex while his spaced out son sat in a
drug induced haze.
Mulder's father pointing a gun at his own son's head
Alex saving his Foxes life by firing first....
The knife clattered out of Mulder's numb fingers. He couldn't hurt Alex.
Not now. Not ever. Not when that mind offered itself to him. Alex could
have killed him three times over, but he had just waited for Mulder to
finish him. As if living without Mulder was more than he could
bear......
Alex carefully retrieved the knife without comment, and put it to one
side.
"I've always loved you. But never more than right now." Alex looked sad.
"I'll leave. You'll be safe here. I won't tell anyone where you are.
There are enough supplies for months." He moved over to the nearest
window. The spider was once again busily at work.
"Mind reading is more of a minefield than I ever expected!" Mulder said
dully, finally admitting the truth to his lover. "Oh Alex......" A tear
rolled unbidden down his cheek.
"I used to be clean cut and honest, believe it or not!" Alex sighed. "It
was never supposed to be this way."
Alex continued to watch the spider busily spinning her web.
"You learn to do things that would have left you sick to your stomach,
if only you had time to think about it. Things that had to be done,
because circumstances left you no other choice. Once you fall into their
webs, once you get snared in their nets. Once upon a time, an age ago, I
swore to protect and serve. I never dreamed where it would lead me, the
depths I would fall to........ "
He closed long lashed eyes, and Mulder could have sworn he saw a tear
gleam there. But this was Alex Krycek, consortium killer, long time
enemy, the man who had so much to answer for......
He reached instinctively for that new awareness, for the first time,
trying to control it, to make it serve him.
.......Oh god Fox......My love...... I wish..... If only I'd met you
sooner.....
Longing
Despair
Alex blinked in surprise as a long fingered hand reached out and brushed
away the suspicion of moisture at the corner of his eye.
"We found each other in the end Alex. Doesn't that count for something?"
Mulder gave a wry smile. "Don't you want to find out whether an assassin
and an FBI agent can find some common ground?"
Alex was staring at him, a look of wonder dawning on his face.
"You read my mind........!" He whispered, only now realising the
implications.
"Yeah! I did, didn't I!" Fox Mulder reached out and stroked one finger
down Alex's cheek, seeing the lips curve in a hesitant smile. "It's an X
file. Maybe you should investigate it, give it some in depth
coverage......."
He didn't manage to finish what he was saying, Alex's mouth covered his,
and he was borne down onto the soft rug that lay in front of the nearby
log fire. An arm was holding onto him so tightly that he could feel the
hardness of firm muscles in Alex's torso. Green eyes filled with hope,
gleamed with reflected firelight as Alex lay above him, gazing into his
face. Whatever Alex saw there, in Mulder's hazel eyes must have
satisfied him, because he gave a small sigh, and leaned his forehead
against Mulder's for a moment.
"Love?" Mulder wondered. "Maybe!" He was sure as hell going to give it a
chance. Maybe the two of them couldn't make a difference in the long
run. But working........., living....... together. He was going to give
it his best shot. It wouldn't be easy. But one thing was certain, He
knew that Alex meant what he said about caring for Mulder, and that
was enough of a basis for trust.
Pusharound
by Megaera
What we call telepathy is that knowledge comes to the consciousness of
someone without the paths of communication that are familiar to
us........ It is implicitly presupposed that this concerns a person in
whom the receiver of the communication has a strong emotional interest.
Sigmund Freud—Dreams and occultism (1933)
