Walter Skinner turned, the brown curls of his wig annoying
him as they brushed the side of his face. The damn thing
was bloody hot, too, but there was no helping it. A man of
his station simply did not leave his chambers without
proper attire, and that meant being wigged. Sighing, he
turned to face his First Mate, William Mulder, wondering
why the man didn't just send this slave off to join the
others.
Turning, he very quickly saw the reason why. The man
standing still, if wary, in his First Mate's grip was
nothing like the others. Skin that had obviously been fair
not too long ago, now held the bronzing of repeated
sunburn, not too long healed. The hair was a sun-streaked
brown, strands of red and even dark blonde present, and
there was a definite shape and style despite the
shagginess. Those locks had been barber tended, not many
months ago. The face was roughly-shaven, the skin looking
smoother there, as though used to being scraped with a fine
blade.
It was no small matter to deduce that this slave was newly
come to his condition, and from a wealthy background to
boot. That alone would have been enough to make Mulder hold
him aside. But now, as Captain Skinner's eyes traveled back
up to the slave's face, Mulder tilted the head back,
pulling firmly, if lightly, on the hair until the immobile
but cautious face was looking up.
"Open your eyes." Mulder spoke firmly, a tiny shake
emphasizing the order. His captain gasped aloud as the
anger-bright green eyes were revealed in a flash of sooty
lashes, before dropping again.
Damn. Damn and damn again. This was no native, no islander
of any class or station. Captain Skinner swore mentally as
he looked at the man again, cursing the ignorant nobles
that had failed to do away with the enslavement of the
poorest class of their own people. It was a step above
cannibalism, but only just, to beat, brand and bargain the
flesh of others, and Skinner had no tolerance for slavery.
When he'd been informed of the insurrection on this small
island, he'd silently and secretly cheered for the
rebelling slaves, despite the fact that he knew the
government would send him to rescue any personnel still
alive.
Sure enough, orders had come through that he was to take
his ship and his men and see what could be salvaged. He'd
found the governor in a group of other former nobles, all
bound in heavy chains, some heavily marked from flogging.
Most of the women and all of the children had been found in
a barn, unharmed if terrified. It seemed the slaves were
merciful, seeking more justice and equality than revenge.
It was obvious that this man didn't belong to either noble
or slave, not with those green eyes.
"Who are you, boy?" Skinner asked it roughly but quietly,
not wanting to either scare or reassure until he knew the
situation. When he got no answer beyond a level if watchful
glare of the green, he asked again, more sharply. "I asked
you a question, boy, it would behoove you to answer me, and
right quickly. You aren't a native, I'd know your story."
There was still no word, and mindful of ever watchful eyes
upon him, Skinner gave a nod to Mulder. The First Mate
turned the slave around, backhanding him sharply, if
carefully. The slave lowered his eyes, but didn't actually
blink.
"Begging your pardon, Captain." A trembling, faint voice at
Skinner's side interrupted them. Skinner turned to see a
youth, a former noble, now freed from his chains, and
rubbing at his neck.
"Yes? You know who this man is?"
"No, Captain. But I know he hasn't spoken a word in two
months. They even threatened to beat him, but he still made
no noise. They gave him a few with the bamboo, didn't get a
squeak. It's thought he's a mute, Sir."
Damnation! Skinner chewed at the bottom corner of his lip,
frowning, face intent on the slave, still burdened with
lengths of iron and obviously waiting for another blow from
Mulder.
"That saves some time and effort. Good boy, go and tell one
of the men I said to treat your throat."
"Thank you, Captain." The youth wandered off, and Skinner
motioned for Mulder to turn the slave back around.
"If you can't talk, that makes you the perfect choice for a
Captain's slave. Have him taken to my cabin. See that he's
secured inside, but have the chains removed. I'll not have
his filth on my sheets, I want him bathed and oiled, but
he's not to be touched within. I'll flay any man that
violates him."
Skinner saw that the eyes were turned down to the ground
again, but the face paled slightly, then flushed, before
the jaws locked. At Skinner's last words, the brows drew
together, and he caught the eyes peeking up at him,
shielded by those impossible lashes.
"Feed him, watered rum by a fourth, and treat any wounds.
That's all."
"Aye, Sir." Mulder gave a small bowing nod and turned away,
taking the slave with him.
Skinner watched the lean muscles as they walked away,
noting the grace of a man of leisure, despite the tattered
remains of his breeches. A mute nobleman of unknown
origins, held and treated as a slave. Skinner ran a hand
over his face, wishing again that he'd never accepted this
royal invitation to hell. Still, in his Majesty's Navy, one
obeyed or one suffered, and this assignment did have its
advantages.
His eyes found the lean form of his First Mate. A small
grin appeared as Skinner pondered the heavy truth of that
title. Yes, playing the pirate was much more tolerable when
he could openly bed his former First Officer. The pirates
were no strangers to sodomy, actually preferring to take
their sport and companionship with another man, to having
the bad luck and dangerous implications of a woman aboard.
In their regular service, Skinner and Mulder hadn't so much
as dared a conversation with the door closed. Now, as the
Pirate Captain Walter 'The Bear' Skinner and his First Mate
William Mulder, alias 'The Fox', they could fuck on the
foredeck, did the urge arise, and no one gave a crucifix,
so long as they didn't dirty the deck.
Skinner's smile faded as he realized that he was being
covertly watched by a pair of bright green eyes. The man
might not be able to speak, but he could damn sure think,
and there was danger in every inch of him, former gentle
breeding notwithstanding. Skinner watched as he was led
away, and when Mulder was standing beside him again,
muttered quietly, "He's going to be trouble, mark my words.
Don't take any chances with him, Fox. He's not safe."
"Yes, Captain." The voice was concerned, and after a quick
look around from habit, Skinner turned, smiling at his
beloved. A quick kiss, and he motioned Mulder to go,
sending him off with a wink and a proprietary slap on the
behind. Mulder's full mouth quirked, but he only set about
his duties. They both knew there would be time for pleasure
later.
Later was sooner than they had hoped. With the governor
secured and the former slaves having released any noble
wanting to leave, provided their wealth remained behind,
the situation rapidly resolved itself. Skinner commandeered
a large ship for the refugees, and sent them off. He'd
follow on his own ship, guarding his cargo from the safety
of the smaller vessel. His ship, the 'Mariner', was fast
and deadly, small enough to maneuver easily, and large
enough to support meaningful cannon.
Now, as he neared his cabin, he heard the distinct sound of
a scuffle. He'd just arrived in the doorway when the door
flew open, and the slave, leaping through it, knocked him
to the ground. Luckily for Skinner, he'd been on alert from
the sounds, and now he grasped as he fell, catching the
man's waist and taking him down, too. The slave, not
expecting the doorway to contain the Captain, wasn't on
guard, and he landed heavily, the breath leaving him in a
silent whoosh. Skinner dragged him back into the cabin,
dropping him to the floor before locking the door and
checking on Mulder.
"Are you alright, Fox?" His First Mate was sitting on the
floor, rubbing at his eyes. His shirt was spattered, and
the scent of rum was obvious.
"I'm fine, he did me no harm." Skinner brought a wet cloth
from his dressing table, and Mulder washed his eyes
carefully, then looked up. He was more chagrined than hurt,
Skinner could see this, and relaxed a bit.
"What happened?"
"I opened the door and he was sitting on the stool. It
looked like he was crying, and I went to check on him. He
threw his rum in my face, grabbed the keys that were still
in my hand and shoved me down. I'm not hurt, except for my
pride. I'm sorry, Walter. You told me to be careful around
him and I wasn't. He just looked so lost...I let my
emotions lead my head, Captain, and as a result the man
nearly escaped. I apologize for my lapse, and fully accept
the consequences of my actions." Both men were standing
now, and Mulder had taken a formal stance, face glum, but
sincere.
"Yes. I will have to punish you, Fox, but later. Right now,
I think we have a young man that needs to learn the rules,
and what manner of man he's dealing with. Stand up, boy."
The slave had remained where Skinner had thrown him, and
now he slowly stood to his feet.
"One of the men told me that they called him the Rat,
because he was always just staring at them from the
corners, and always silent."
"Is that true, boy? Do they call you that?"
There was no response, the eyes locked on the floor.
Passive, and yet the fury was clearly simmering just under
the surface. Taking a deep breath and praying for patience
he knew wasn't coming, Skinner tried again, reminding
himself that there was no telling what the young man had
been through.
"Look, boy, I know that's not your real name. If you tell
me your real name, I'll gladly use it, but until then, I
must have some way to refer to you. Now, is that what they
called you?"
A faint nod, and encouraged, Skinner pressed on.
"Good. Now, does the name bother you?" The eyes rose a
fraction, confused, and more gently, Skinner asked again.
"Will it bother you if I call you Rat? If the name hurts
you, I'll call you something else, I have no desire to
bring back unpleasant memories. So, is it acceptable for me
to call you Rat?"
Another nod, not as faint this time, and the young man was
back to thinking, god help them all.
"Very well, Rat. There are things we must have straight
between us, and now. This is my ship, I am Captain here,
Fox is my First Mate. I am a fair man, or try to be, and I
am not cruel. But I will not tolerate disobedience, not
from anyone. Your desire to be free does you much credit,
Rat, as does the fact that you did nothing harmful to Fox
in your attempt at escape. But just as he will be punished
later for failing to heed my words, so will you be punished
now. Not for cruelty, nor for vengeance, but to teach you
quickly how things will be. You are not my slave, Rat. I do
not own others. You are a passenger on this vessel until
such time as I can set you safely free. Now, doubtless you
have noticed that you are on a pirate ship. There are no
passengers of leisure on such a ship, and no place for
rebellion. You are in my cabin because I didn't trust the
other nobles, and quite frankly, you are a handsome young
thing and my men would make great sport with you, green
eyes be damned."
The young man was listening to Skinner with such intensity
that Mulder could almost hear it. He was cleaning up,
drawing on a fresh shirt, and dabbing at his eyes with the
towel. The rum had been heavily watered, so the stinging
was almost gone. He was lucky the man hadn't cracked his
skull open with the mug. Sighing as he realized again that
he deserved the hiding he was going to get later, Mulder
turned his attention back to Rat.
The body was tense, but the shoulders had lowered a
fraction, and strong white teeth were pinching at a full
bottom lip. It was obvious that the young man was weighing
Skinner's words carefully.
"I need no trouble with your family, whomever they might
be. It is therefore my intention to deliver you relatively
unharmed to the nearest port with a working government
outpost, that you may be returned to your home. In the
meantime, you will earn your passage as cabin boy, and as
general labor on this ship. You will obey me, you will obey
Fox in my absence. You will cease trying to escape. To do
so is not only dangerous, it is unnecessary, as your
eventual freedom is assured. I will protect you, Rat, but
to do that, I require your cooperation and your obedience,
just as I demand from every man on this vessel. Is that
clear?"
A long pause, and then the green eyes came up, meeting
Skinner's without a flinch. A definite nod this time, the
head moving twice up and down.
"Good. Then there's only the matter of your punishment.
Take it well, without a fuss, and it will go better for
all, especially you, Rat. Come here, boy."
A swallow, and then the shoulders squared and the young man
moved to stand in front of Skinner.
"Well done." Skinner meant it: Rat might be frightened, but
he was no coward. Sitting down on the bunk behind him,
Skinner quickly drew the compact form across his lap. He
felt the muscles tremble, saw the hands clench to fists,
but there was no fight. Rewarding the brave compliance,
Skinner only administered a dozen hard cracks of his hand
to the taut backside, not sparing his arm, but not being
brutal, either. Rat remained silent, only the shifts in his
breathing telling of his discomfort.
"I am not your Master. But I am in charge here, Rat, and
you will obey me, is that clear between us, boy?"
A slightly begrudging nod, and Skinner knew the lesson had
been learned. He stood the boy up.
"Fair enough. I suggest you retire for the evening, it's
been a long day and you must be tired. You will find a
bedroll and blankets in that small chest on the far wall.
The chamber pot is next to it. Dismissed."
With a final look of faint confusion, the younger man moved
to make his bedspace. Skinner sighed, then held out his
hand to Mulder without a word. The First Mate came to him
at once, pausing only long enough to pick up a small, thin
cane from a hook beside the door. He unbuttoned his
breeches and pushed his clothing down to mid-thigh before
giving Skinner his hand. The long form was soon stretched
across the only recently vacated lap, and the cabin rang
with the sound of Skinner's hard palm on the naked rear.
Rat was now stretched out on his side, facing away, but he
was fully aware of the punishment taking place behind him,
and knew it to be more serious than his own. He counted
over two dozen, before the sounds changed. A pause, and
then a light swish and thwack, followed by a muffled grunt.
Rat chanced a quick peek, and saw a second lick of the
cane. It was mild, doing no more than reddening the skin,
not even leaving a welt. Relieved, Rat turned back over,
waiting for the sound of more licks, but they didn't come.
There was no more spanking, only quiet murmurs and what he
thought was kissing.
A few minutes more, and he could hear the men behind him
moving around the cabin. A motion near him made him roll
over, and he saw Mulder, face still flushed, tying a rope
off onto a hook set high in the wall.
Mulder, seeing the fearful gaze, spoke quietly, voice a bit
subdued. "Don't worry, we aren't about to tie you up. I'm
hanging a line, nothing more." Mulder moved to the far
wall, tying the rope off onto another hook. He then picked
up a blanket, and draped it over the line. A soft cloth
wall now gave them privacy, and Mulder adjusted it a little
more, before saying softly, "Goodnight, Rat. No hard
feelings."
The First Mate moved away, and before long, the lamps were
blown out and the cabin was dark and quiet, except for two
men making love, and a third one thinking loudly.
The morning brought fair skies and an introduction to the
ship for Rat. Skinner himself led the boy down, introduced
him to the crew in the mess, made it clear he was under
Captain's graces, and left him with Mulder. The First Mate
gave him a full tour of the ship, went over the schedule
for meals and such, and gave him a list of chores to be
completed. After being assured that he was fully
understood, Mulder left.
Rat took a bowl of gruel, eating breakfast hungrily. He'd
not been starved, but food had been carefully rationed, and
the warm spoonfuls felt wonderful in his stomach.
Once he was back in the Captain's cabin, having only made
two wrong turns, he began on the list, grateful that he was
being allowed to work unsupervised. It let him think, and
he had much to think about. As he stripped the mattress,
Rat decided to remain, for a bit. Things seemed fair, and
if he was being taken to his freedom, it made sense to
accept this place and his duties for awhile. It wasn't bad,
he'd been well treated, the previous night's punishment
included. On the island, he'd seen the men flogged with the
split bamboo, heard the horrible sounds as flesh and men
broke under the thick canes.
Shaking his head, he recalled the relief of discovering he
was only going to be spanked. Granted, the Captain had a
heavy hand, and Rat had no doubt that if provoked , the
Captain would dole out more than a dozen on principle, but
still, it was no more than discipline. Rat rubbed idly at
his thigh, where a faint pale streak showed the scar from a
cane blow. He'd been lucky to have only gotten three mild
strokes from his captors, no anger behind them, so they'd
only made small bloody welts on his thighs, rather than
deep cuts. Rat's eyes found the slender cane the Captain
had used on Mulder last night. Again, mild, very mild, and
small enough to require genuine effort to do serious
damage. It was promising.
The sound of the door opening behind him brought him out of
his musings, and he saw that it was Mulder. The First Mate
looked around, and gave an approving smile.
"You've started well, Rat. The Captain will be pleased."
Mulder had a bundle in his hand, and he held it out now.
"One of the men is about your size. He'll trade you these
clothes for some laundry service. Shall I tell him it's a
deal?"
Rat looked at the shirt. It had the sleeves missing and was
a bit big, and the pants would be a bit snug. Still, it was
better than what he had, and it would be a relief to not be
half-naked. Rat nodded, trying to let his thanks show.
"You're very expressive. I've no trouble at all
understanding you, even without speech. Very well, I'll
tell Jacobs. He'll drop the rest of his clothing by here,
and you can take them to the kitchens. Cook will show you
where we do our wash. Understood?"
Rat nodded again, and Mulder left, another approving look
around the cabin. Rat, reluctantly admitting to himself
that he was pleased, went back to work.
That night, when Skinner returned to the cabin, he gave it
a full inspection. Rat stood by, calm on the surface, but
there was tension in the spine that belied his placid
demeanor.
"Well done, Rat. This exceeds expectation." Skinner lightly
clapped him on the shoulder, and turned back to Mulder.
Feeling even more pleased than he had been by Mulder's
praise, Rat settled himself on his bedroll.
On the other side of the blanket, he could hear Skinner and
Mulder talking. They were discussing the passage and the
weather and other ship's business. Mulder listened, hands
busy working on a pile of mending he'd been given.
Rat started when he was called several minutes later.
"Rat, take this above and give it to Mason, he's at the
helm right now." Rat took the folded note, and left at
once. When he was gone, Mulder poured Skinner a measure of
rum.
"So, what have you learned about our mysterious passenger?"
Mulder's task had been to row over to the other vessel and
see what information they could gather.
"Not much, I'm afraid. He's not a member of any of the
families, no distant kin. No one seems to know him. A few
people recall seeing him just before the insurrection, but
he was alone even then. He seems to have been caught up, an
innocent with the bad luck to be high born and wealthy. The
wrong place at the wrong time. Someone said they thought
his real name was Alex, that they'd heard the innkeeper
mention a new man in town, but Alex was all they could
remember. He fought, but not like the nobles. Seems he was
willing to obey and bide his time."
"That makes sense. Anything else?"
"Yes. If he is this Alex that the innkeeper spoke of, then
he's from Veritas."
Skinner's brow rose.
Veritas was the name of a small country to the north. It
was a cold region, with mountains and snow, but not harsh,
the short spring and summer providing enough of a growing
season for its people. The natives did tend to have brown
hair and green eyes. Still, that was a very long way from
the near tropics they were in now.
"Good work, love. We'll ask him when he returns." Skinner
reached out, drawing Mulder to him and kissing the taller
man with deliberate slowness, hands roaming down the lean
back to cup the rounded backside. Mulder moaned with the
pleasure, and unashamedly rubbed his growing cock along
Skinner's groin.
"Greedy, aren't you, m'boy?"
"For you, always. Oh gods, Walter, make love to me,
please?" Skinner's teeth were latched firmly onto the side
of Mulder's neck, and the skin tasted of salt spray. He
could feel the thrum of Mulder's pulse under the skin as he
suckled, leaving a large love bruise on the pale flesh.
"Onto the bed, beloved. I'll fetch the ointment."
Mulder began all but ripping his clothes off, and threw
himself face down onto the bed. Skinner had just stripped
off his shirt, hanging it neatly on the chair, when Rat
came back inside. At the sight of Mulder lying naked and
aroused, the face turned scarlet, and the young man hurried
to the other side of the blanket wall. Skinner motioned for
Mulder to wait a moment, then spoke quietly from near the
edge of the blanket.
"Our apologies, Rat. We are unused to sharing a cabin, and
more unused to caring who sees what onboard this ship. No
offense was intended, nor did we mean to make you
uncomfortable. We'll try to remember to lock the door from
now on, or ask you to visit the upper decks."
With that said, he turned back to his lover. Rat, on the
other side, got back to work, but was distracted by the
sounds coming from the other side. He'd long known he was
attracted to other men, and despite having charge of him
now, Rat had to admit that both men were handsome. His own
arousal he ignored, modesty and genteel raising ensuring he
could do nothing more. When the sounds were finished,
having reached a loud and dramatic crescendo, Rat gave them
a few moments more, then knocked softly on the wall near
the blanket's edge.
"Enter." The voice was sated but clear, and Rat saw that
Skinner was lying in bed, breeches fastened, shirt still
off. Mulder was draped in the sheet, and lying in Skinner's
arms, dozing.
Rat had a moment's envious pang, then pointed to the
ceiling, requesting permission to go topside.
"You wish to go on deck?" At the nod, Skinner bit his lip,
thinking. "Very well. But a few moments only. It's not
completely safe there. Come back here, I need to speak with
you."
Rat nodded, and made his way out quietly. Skinner felt the
lean form in his arms chuckle, and he tilted the smiling
face up.
"What amuses you?"
"You."
"And how do I amuse?" There was a lethargic tease in the
voice, and Mulder moved to lie more fully atop his Captain.
He smiled into the warm brown eyes, reaching out to kiss
softly.
"You're the horror, the dangerous pirate Captain, the
scourge known as The Bear. Other ships have been known to
surrender just at the sight of your flag, and yet you're
really quite the tender-heart, aren't you?"
"Don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold, Sir."
"It shall be my greatest confidence. That and the size of
your organ."
Skinner laughed out loud, and began tickling his First
Mate.
On deck, Rat made his way cautiously to the rail. He wasn't
quite used to the motion of the ship yet, but he wasn't
sick either.
The air was brisk, but refreshing after being below so
long, and he inhaled deeply. He savored the slight chill,
loving how it felt to his heated skin. He hadn't felt cool,
really cool in months now, and he missed it terribly. He
resolutely put that thought aside, looking instead to the
stars. He had an idea which direction they were headed,
judging by the Dog Star, and he was encouraged by the
knowledge. They were headed vaguely northwest, and that
should take them to an outpost in a matter of weeks, while
steering clear of the more dangerous smaller islands.
A movement to his right brought Rat's eyes around in that
direction. A young man, roughly his own age, a member of
the crew, was standing a few feet away. Rat tensed, seeing
the lustful gaze travel him. He was still recovering from
the pawing he'd undergone when they'd made him a slave,
having been fortunate to be spared all but groping and
stroking, his owner not interested in him much, too afraid
of the green eyes, the first he'd ever seen. Now, looking
at the seaman drawing nearer, Rat could tell superstition
wouldn't save him this time. He moved to a defensive
posture, and the man chuckled.
"Relax, grassy-eyes. Being flayed by the Captain's no easy
thing to risk. I'll not force you to anything. But the Bear
never said we couldn't seduce you. You come willin' like,
he'll spare me the lash. What say, fancy a tumble?"
Face now a bright red, Rat shook his head violently, hoping
the tremble would be put off to anger. The crewman
shrugged, and cupped himself in one rope roughened hand.
"Your loss, mate. Do you change your mind, you'll find me
below." A wink, and the man laughed as Rat quickly made his
way back to the Captain's cabin.
He knocked softly, and Mulder's voice bade him enter. They
were up and dressed, looking over a map set up on a small
desk. Skinner paused Rat as he was going past, holding up a
hand, while he marked with a small pencil, then standing up
straight and standing in front of the former slave.
"Alex."
Skinner said it flatly, and the boy's eyes widened,
flickered with a mix of fear and hope, and then hid
themselves behind the long sooty lashes in a move that
Skinner was becoming very familiar with.
"So, your name is Alex, and you are the newcomer at the
inn."
It was a flat statement, but Skinner expected a response.
When he didn't get one, he reached around and patted the
swell of Alex's rear.
"Answer me, boy, I won't ask you twice." Alex swallowed,
and then gave a faint nod, teeth gripping his bottom lip.
"Better. And you come from Veritas, do you not?"
Another pause, too long, and Skinner placed a light warning
slap on the rump. It brought a nod, and Skinner turned back
to the map.
"Can you show me your port on the map? We should reach a
settlement in a couple of weeks, I can arrange for your
passage home."
Alex hesitated, and Skinner gave a low sound of annoyance,
but he was curious, too.
"I do not understand this defiance. It makes no sense to
me, boy, why you would offer such resistance to help. You
are very bright, I know, so it is not ignorance that holds
your tongue. Are you merely obstinate?"
To Skinner's surprise, Alex shook his head.
"Perhaps you enjoyed your time across my knee, and seek to
repeat the experience?"
Alex's face flushed a deep red, and he shook his head more
violently, anger easy to see in his face and form.
"I have neither the time nor the patience for guessing
games, boy. Think of a way to explain to me your
reluctance, and do it quickly, or I'll have to assume you
merely difficult."
Alex chewed at his bottom lip, then hesitantly, as though
uncertain of the response, pointed to the sword hanging at
Walter's side.
"My sword?"
Alex nodded, but knew the message remained unclear. He then
moved to the wall, where a captured flag was stretched in a
case, an appropriate decoration. He tapped the cover, and
Mulder snapped his fingers, face showing comprehension.
"You don't wish to lead pirates to your home!" Alex looked
relieved, and nodded. Mulder, very pleased with having made
the connections, turned to Skinner with a smile. "That was
rather good of me, wasn't it, Walter?"
Skinner, seeing again the nearly child-like innocent
pleasure his First Mate took from doing well, allowed a
warm smile in return. "It was excellent deduction, Fox. I
thank you for your help." Alex nodded, his own way of
thanking the man.
"You're welcome, both of you." Blushing faintly, Mulder
turned back to the map. "But if you can't show us a port at
Veritas, could you get us close enough to see you home?"
Alex bit his lip, shrugging to show he wasn't sure. He
moved to the map, careful to see if it was allowed, and
then pointed gladly to a spot just below his country. It
was a common port, and many ships sailed from there to
Veritas, it would be simple enough to get transport.
After studying the position, Skinner and Mulder nodded. It
was more than doable, they'd heard of the port themselves,
despite it being far north. There would be no trouble
finding a ship to go there.
"Very good, Alex. Dismissed."
Alex moved along, sighing his relief. He'd not been looking
forward to punishment, not when he sensed he was making
Skinner angry. He listened absently as they planned the
course, his hands reaching for a pile of mending. Alex was
skilled with needle and thread, and he'd managed to work a
trade with a couple of the men that had seen him working on
the Captain's shirts. He'd been paid with a tiny pearl, set
on a thin gold wire. It wasn't worth much money, nearly
none, but Alex had liked it, and now, it was about to grace
his left ear.
The first thing that had happened to him, once the slaves
had taken over and captured him, was that his ear had been
pierced in the manner of the slaves. A double loop of iron
had been hung from his ear, pulling it painfully until it
had healed. Now, knowing that he was going to be freed,
Alex had decided to keep the hole opened. The lobe was
marred already: even did he let it close, it would be
visible to the eye that he'd been pierced. Better to adorn
it by his own choosing, than have people gawk in secret.
Removing the iron loops, Alex gave his lobe a gentle rub,
then slipped the gold wire through, being sure to curl the
back of the wire into a hook, so as not to lose it. He gave
a gentle series of tugs, and found it secure, the pearl
dangling just below his earlobe.
Satisfied, he saw to the chamber pots and washed up, before
going to see to the Captain's supper.
The days passed easily. Alex took his duties seriously, and
performed them well, earning him praise from both Mulder
and Skinner. He grew fond of the men, hearing them, seeing
them so at ease with one another, enjoying their company,
if voyeuristically, from behind the blanket. There were
small moments throughout the day when they shared company
as well, and Alex knew he was beginning to fall in love, no
matter how he might fight it with busy work and staring out
at sea.
The crew had stopped panting after him at every appearance,
and he was allowed on deck for longer periods now, but
mostly still in the daytime. But only when either Skinner
or Mulder was above deck. If Alex was going to be up for
more than a moment, he had to be under their protective
gaze. It bothered him, but he obeyed. He did his duties,
never complained and never shirked.
It wasn't easy, the work was hard, the rations carefully
controlled, and he didn't like the sailing itself. Still
not sick, he knew it could be worse, but he was uneasy on
the water, and looking forward to having solid ground
underneath his feet. It was somehow better when he was
topside, and could see the sky. With that in mind, he'd
slipped out, intending to stay only a moment.
But Alex spent much longer than a moment, caught up in the
air and the blue of the sky above him. It was only when the
ship's bells rang, that he realized how long he'd been
gone. He was just leaving to go back to work, when he
noticed one of the crew watching him. The man swayed as he
walked toward Alex, and Alex knew he was drunk. He was in a
corner, and the only way out was past the sailor. Mentally
swearing at his own foolishness, Alex braced himself.
The man stood close, much too close, and his breath made
Alex gag, when he hissed into Alex's face.
"Well, the Captain's pretty kitty's come out to play. Tell
me, do you whore yourself for just the Captain, or does the
First Mate get a turn as well?"
Alex said nothing, but tried to get past. Hands, strong and
cruel, closed on his arms, and despite inebriation, Alex
knew he wouldn't be able to shake the hold. Biting his
bottom lip, Alex dropped his eyes, having learned this
would often end a fight before it began. It didn't work
this time.
"You don't fool me, boy, with your witch's eyes, always
watchin'. You go back and tell many a tale, don't you, lad?
Was it you that told the Captain I'd been into the coils?"
Into the coils was ship speak for slipping off to nap in
the huge coils of rope stored near the bow.
Alex shook his head, but the crewman only gripped tighter.
"Aye, you're a lying little cockwhore, I've seen your kind
in the brothels. You're near eager enough to make a man pay
for the privilege, aren't you, boy?"
"If he were, I doubt you could afford him, Johnson." The
voice was cold, deep and hard, and Alex felt a wash of
relief go through him, as he saw the Captain step out of
the shadows.
The crewman immediately let him go, and Alex wasted no time
in moving past.
"To my cabin. I'll be along shortly." There was no need to
say what would happen once he arrived, but Alex only
nodded, and all but ran.
Mulder was waiting inside, and looking worried.
"Were you topside, this whole time?" Alex nodded, and
Mulder looked disappointed in him, besides concerned. His
eyes wandered to Alex's upper arms, where clear fingermarks
were turning a purple-blue. Mulder took up a wet cloth, and
carefully began to bathe them. "Are you alright?"
Alex nodded, wincing as Mulder now applied some antiseptic
to a few places where Johnson's nails had broken the skin.
When he'd finished, Alex swallowed hard, and then moved to
the hook by the door, picking up the cane. He'd just knelt
down on the floor by the chair, when Skinner came inside,
glaring daggers.
He paused when he saw the kneeling form, the bent head, and
the cane that was now being held up for Skinner in the
palms of Alex's hands. He looked at Mulder who shook his
head, shrugging, and then turned back to Alex.
"Look at me, boy." Alex did, and his shame and regret were
easy to see in the dark green depths.
"You're sorry." Mulder said it quietly, almost talking to
himself, but it carried, and Alex nodded, trying to convey
his acceptance of his wrong doing. Skinner looked at him
thoughtfully for a long time, then relaxed.
"Good. You understand the situation, I see." Alex nodded,
and Skinner took the cane from him. "Stand and drop your
clothing."
Skinner seated himself in the chair as Alex obeyed quickly,
and then drew the young man over his lap. Alex, blushing at
being exposed, didn't fight at all, knowing this to be a
much deserved punishment, and trusting Skinner to be fair.
"Alex, you were lucky today. You might not be so fortunate
next time. If I must, I will forbid you from going up at
all. I have no wish to do that, but I will keep you safe,
is that clear?"
The nod was sincere, and Skinner tightened his hold, before
bringing his palm crashing down on the pale flesh. By the
time he'd walloped each cheek scarlet, Alex was panting
harshly, squirming, if trying to remain passive and still.
There was a pause, and Skinner raised the cane.
"This is very serious, Alex."
Alex sniffled, nodding clearly despite his aching backside.
He braced himself for the cane, and a moment later, it
licked at the underside of his bottom. The inhale was
sharp, but it was barely a welt, only stung like hell. Two
more followed in the same sensitive area, but not
overlapping. Alex was gritting his teeth with the pain, but
it was still much milder than it might have been, and he
was thankful when Skinner drew his clothing back up,
despite the hurt it caused.
"Never again, Alex. Am I understood?"
Skinner was looking deeply into his eyes as he demanded it,
and Alex nodded, knowing it would make the tears begin to
spill over. His lip trembled, and he sniffled hard, before
wiping at his eyes with his hand.
"Dismissed." Alex moved quickly to his own side of the
blanket, lying on the floor and letting the tears fall.
Several moments later, there was a soft knock.
"Alex? May I come back?" It was Mulder, and Alex reached
out, pulling the blanket to let him know it was okay. He
came in, a tray in his hand. "I brought you some salve.
Will you let me treat you?"
Mulder's voice was gentle, and Alex knew the man was
sincere. He thumbed his pants down, wincing slightly.
Mulder drew them down to mid-thigh, and reached to the
tray. Picking up a cold cloth, he lay it across the welted
area. Alex gasped at the cold on his overheated and
sensitive skin, and Mulder's hand rubbed soothingly up and
down his back.
"I know, I know, shhh. It'll feel better in a moment, I
promise." Alex relaxed back onto the floor, pillowing his
head on his crossed arms. "He took no pleasure in that,
Alex. He isn't that kind of man. Skinner will do what he
must, as Captain and as a pirate, but it is duty only that
moves him to be harsh, duty and responsibility. And care.
That is small comfort when you're suffering a sore bum, but
it's true as well."
Alex closed his eyes, sighing softly.
"And I care for him, Alex, so I'm going to scold you, just
a bit. Don't make his duty more unpleasant than it has to
be. I would not see him suffer for your disobedience. Are
we clear, Alex?"
Alex nodded, and then Mulder was soothing a thick ointment
into the throbbing skin, carefully easing the pain with a
surprisingly light touch. It cooled, it soothed, and Alex
gave another sigh, more heartfelt.
"There. You'll be a little tender in the morn, I'd not
count on sitting comfortably until the day after, but then
you should be healed."
Alex rolled onto his side, wanting to say so many things to
Mulder, and unable to do so. He settled for picking up one
graceful, long-fingered hand, and kissing the back of it.
Mulder smiled at him, an easy warm smile.
"Try to rest. No hard feelings, Rat." It was a tease, and
Alex managed a smile, knowing he was understood and
forgiven.
Later that evening, when he came back from taking the
dinner dishes, Skinner paused him.
"I am not angry with you. I would have you know that." Alex
managed another smile, this one a bit chastened around the
edges, and Skinner patted his shoulder, before turning back
to his work.
Alex was relieved to see that neither man bore a grudge.
The next day he was treated as normal, and if he ate his
meals standing, no one said anything. Alex was, indeed,
healed by the following day, and he determined to never
disobey Skinner again.
It seemed he would be successful. They had sailed another
month nearly, the weather having been trickier than
expected at first, and had slowed them somewhat. Now, as
they made their way across the last difficult channel,
another vessel came into sight. Alex had been on deck, and
now, Skinner pulled the glass away from his eye, swearing
loudly, even as Mulder came running up, panting out a
report.
"It's the 'Injustice', Sir. I saw Kersh himself on deck,
and they've got their guns out."
"Prepare for battle, all hands to stations!" Skinner called
orders fast and hard, pausing only long enough to send Alex
below. "There'll be a fight, boy, I don't want you involved
in it. Go to the cabin, lock yourself in. You know where my
extra cutlass is?" Alex nodded, unashamed. "Good, find it
and be ready to use it. Get under the bed and stay there
until Mulder or I come for you. If no one comes, wait until
all's quiet and make your way off ship as best you can. Am
I understood? You stay in that cabin and lock the door
behind you, Alex. Go!" Skinner sent him off with a swat,
and Alex immediately did as he was told.
Soon, the sounds of battle were unmistakable. Alex, not
feeling safe under the bed, was nonetheless hidden behind a
chest, cutlass held in his hands. He listened as the sounds
grew louder and closer. They were boarded, and soon from
the hallway and stairs came the sound of swordplay, and the
occasional fire of a pistol.
In the thick of it, he suddenly heard Skinner shouting,
"Get to Mr. Mulder! Get to him, quickly!"
"We can't, Sir, they've got him trapped below!"
Alex swallowed hard, but knew what he had to do. Sending a
quick silent prayer above, Alex moved to the door, opening
it as quietly as he could, and peering out just a crack.
Mulder was trapped indeed, his back to a wall, with two
strange men both fighting him at once. The swords rang and
sparked, so fast and furious were they flying, but Alex
knew Mulder couldn't hold the pace much longer. The
stairwell was blocked by a fallen timber, and Alex saw he
was the only hope.
Stealing out as quietly as possible, he came up behind the
men, willing Mulder not to give him away with a glance, but
Mulder was too busy focusing on flashing steel to see
beyond it. Alex crept up and brought the hilt of the
cutlass down hard on the head of the nearest man. He
slumped immediately, unconscious, and Mulder took the
opportunity to disarm his opponent, before similarly
knocking him out.
"Good work, Alex. My gratitude." Mulder was already moving
back to the stairwell, and Alex helped him move the fallen
timber to one side, enough to let a man pass. Alex followed
him up the stairs, figuring he was already involved. The
fighting was just finishing up, and now Alex watched as
Skinner pressed a blade to the throat of a dark skinned man
wearing a fancy shirt.
Soon, all the prisoners were safely locked away and the
other vessel was secured for towing, a prize crew of
Skinner's men aboard to run her and keep an eye on the
prisoners. Then, and only then, did the Captain turn his
attention to Alex.
Alex had seen the man scowling at him from above deck, and
knew Skinner wasn't pleased at being disobeyed. Now, Alex
stood in front of him, eyes respectfully on the floor,
waiting.
"You were not where you were supposed to be, boy. Did I
tell you to come on deck and join in the melee?"
Alex shook his head, wincing at the roar.
"No! I believe I told you to lock yourself in this cabin!"
Alex nodded, wondering if it were possible for a voice to
be so deep and yet so very loud.
"When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed, Alex! I
thought that was made clear to you."
Alex swallowed hard, nodding. Walter was standing in front
of him now, hands on hips, looking furious.
"No, Walter! You can't punish him!" Mulder stepped in front
of Alex, having come into the room from having a minor
wound stitched. He'd jumped between them, and now Skinner
turned his glare to his lover.
"Stay out of this, Mulder. I know you care for him, I do,
too, but he could have been killed!"
"He saved my life, Walter!" That this was news was evident.
The anger fled, leaving bewilderment in its place. Mulder
continued, still maintaining his protective stance. "When
they trapped me below decks, the stairs were blocked. There
were two of them, Walter, and both better than me. If Alex
hadn't come out to save me, I'd have been dead in another
couple of minutes at the most. He helped me clear the
stairs and then came up fighting. I owe him my life,
Walter, as do many of the men. You can't punish him for
being brave, loyal and willing to sacrifice himself for the
sake of the ship and the men aboard it. It would be beyond
hypocritical, beyond ungrateful, and I will not allow it."
At the last words, Alex tugged gently at Mulder's sleeve.
He was moved beyond belief at the words of praise, never
having had them applied to himself before, but he couldn't
stand to come between the two of them. He boldly took one
of each of their hands, and clasped them together over his
heart, shaking his head slowly. Alex knew what he was
saying, knew it was revealing too much, but it couldn't be
helped. When he'd seen Mulder pinned behind the two swords,
he'd known he was in love with the man. And seeing Skinner
above deck, surrounded by smoke and blood, he'd felt his
heart damn him again.
Looking from one of them to the other, he let his heart
show, silently begging them not to fight, not over him. He
loved them too much to be the cause of hurt feelings
between them, and Mulder's ultimatum was inflammatory, at
the least.
Skinner hesitated only a moment, before relaxing his
stance.
"You're right, Fox, of course. Alex shouldn't be punished
for doing what was right. My orders were well meant, but
wrong. Forgive me, Alex, I meant no unfairness. And you
have my utmost gratitude for saving Mr. Mulder's life. I
owe you a debt with that gratitude, and you need only say
to have it paid. And thank you, Fox, for showing me the
error of my ways. I fear that there are times when emotion
can turn even so bullish a head as mine." Skinner's mouth
quirked at one corner, and Fox chuckled softly.
"You mean Bearish, don't you, beloved?"
With a broad smile, Skinner pulled Mulder to him, kissing
him deeply. Alex had dropped their hands, and now he
started to slip away, content to see them at peace again.
He was stopped by a large hand on his arm, gently halting
him.
Skinner looked deeply into his eyes, then reached out,
kissing Alex briefly on his very surprised mouth. He then
hugged the smaller man tightly, and left to check on the
wounded. Alex's eyes were huge when they looked to Mulder,
praying the man had taken no offense. He found instead that
Mulder was now eyeing him warmly, and reaching out for him.
"I owe you also, Alex. And I will pay it gladly, in any
coin you ask." Mulder then took his own kiss and hug,
before leaving as well.
Alex stood frozen for many long moments, then began to
smile. He made his way slowly back to his hammock, which
Skinner had given to him a few days into the voyage,
knowing that sleeping on the floor of a moving ship was
nearly the same as not sleeping at all, and was soon
sleeping peacefully.
It was the last bit of excitement. Within two weeks, they
were nearing the government outpost. From here, they would
arrange passage for Alex to the port of his choice, and
from there he would arrange his own passage to Veritas.
Skinner presented him with a heavy money pouch the night
before they arrived.
"It's yours, Alex. You were part of the crew when we
captured the 'Injustice' and entitled to a share in the
bounty, in addition to your wages. It should be more than
sufficient to see you home, and even in some small measure
of comfort."
Alex was still recovering from this kindness, when Mulder
presented him with a small trunk.
"Open it, Alex." Heart thudding, Alex obeyed, finding three
changes of clothing, and a pair of shoes. The green eyes
showed their wonder, and Mulder confessed, "We went through
the stores on the captured vessel. Seems they had taken a
clerk prisoner sometime past. The man was gone but his
luggage remained. It looked to be your size, and I took the
liberty of acquiring it for you."
"One more thing, Alex." Here, Skinner held out his extra
cutlass, in the gilded leather scabbard. "It's a rough
world. You never know when you'll run into pirates and have
to defend yourself."
Alex threw back his head, laughing without sound, his face
glowing with gratitude. He tentatively reached out, and
embraced each man, holding them tightly in their turn.
"You're welcome, Alex. There is one more thing we'd like to
offer you, but you may refuse it with a clear conscience,
and no fears of hurting our feelings, is that clear?" Alex
nodded, and with a last look at Mulder, Skinner spoke
quietly. "Our bed. We would like to invite you to join us,
Alex, if only for a night. As I said, you need not accept,
and we shall bear no ill will should you refuse. We both
understand completely, and would not wish to make you feel
uncomfortable in any way."
Skinner stopped there, and Mulder took over, eyes full of
emotion. "Truth be told, we are not even sure if you look
on men in such a way. But if you do, and if you would like,
you would be most welcome. Not simply because we find you
handsome, either, though we do. We care for you, Alex.
These past two months, you have grown dear to us. Both of
us. You need not answer. If you so desire, you have but to
join us. If not, we shall see you in the morning, still
firmly in our regard."
Alex wiped at his eyes, the tear having spilled over
despite his best efforts. He kissed each man on the cheek,
and then moved off behind the blankets.
Sometime later, with the cabin dark save for the moonlight
shining through the deck prisms, Alex stripped off his
clothing, and silently made his way out from behind the
blankets. He moved quietly, but he knew that Skinner and
Mulder would awaken, were they asleep.
He approached the foot of the bed, and after only a moment,
the sheet was pulled down, and Skinner's voice reached him.
"About time."
Alex smiled, and crawled up into the bed between them. He
was kissed and caressed. His body was mapped with fingers
and tongues and he indulged in their similarities and
differences like a man sampling a banquet. When the passion
could no longer be denied, Skinner put a hand up to Alex's
face, cupping the jaw lightly.
"Alex, sweet, are you virgin?" The nod was slow, and
Skinner kissed him to reassure, then asked more softly, "Do
you wish to remain so?" This time the head shook a
negative, and Alex wrapped his legs around Skinner's waist,
his arms around Mulder's neck.
"We won't both fit, Alex," Mulder teased softly, and Alex
was glad the darkness hid his blush. "Will you trust us,
Alex?" A nod, and Skinner reached for the ointment, even as
Mulder rolled Alex onto his side. "Do to me that which
Walter does to you, and you need not worry about doing
anything wrong."
With that cryptic message, Mulder reached for the ointment,
and began applying it to Alex's erection, before putting
some on the man's fingers, and lying down beside him. They
were loosely spooned, and when Alex felt a careful finger
at his entrance, he realized what was to happen. Shaking
with nerves, excitement and lust, Alex reached out, seeking
the tight muscle hidden between Mulder's slender cheeks.
Alex followed every move Skinner made, from adding
additional fingers, to pausing, to scissoring, and soon, he
was poised at the opening, his cock leaking with need, his
body alive with wanting. It was not disappointed. Alex had
no idea the levels of pleasure his body was capable of, but
he was introduced to most of them the minute Skinner moved
inside him, just as he moved within Mulder.
A long time later, after two men had howled as a third
strained in silence, there was a hasty clean, and then they
fell asleep in a tangled heap, happiness marred only by the
knowledge that tomorrow Alex would be gone.
The clothes fit, the shoes fit well enough. Shortly after
mid morning, Alex was standing on a pier, waiting his turn
to board the ship that would take him away, take him one
step closer to home. They had said their goodbyes aboard
ship, knowing that the public wharf would be inappropriate,
and now, with a brilliant smile, Alex waved to them both,
and climbed aboard, waving to them from the rail until he
was out of sight.
"Goodbye, Rat. Be happy." Mulder murmured it, and allowed
Skinner to take him back to the ship.
SIX MONTHS LATER
"Captain, there's a gentleman to see you and the First
Mate, as well. He was most insistent, Sir, said he had a
message for you from a friend."
Skinner, busy checking the re-supply of his ship, gave an
exasperated sigh, and beside him, Mulder swore softly.
"We shall never make it out of this port." Putting the list
down, they both prepared to meet the man. They couldn't
afford to snub a noble, not when they were playing both
sides of the law, especially one that claimed to have
information. With a forced calm and a fake smile they hid
their distaste as the dandy was brought forward.
The suit alone was enough to put them off, a brilliant pale
robin's egg blue in satin, and dripping with pure white
lace. The stockings, too, were lace, and the heels on the
shoes the highest Mulder had ever seen on a man, despite
the current rage from Paris. The wig's white curls rested
on the man's lapels, so long were they, and the hat and its
appropriate peacock's feather hid most of the face.
"Good lord, are we supposed to be meeting a gentleman or a
very confused woman?" Mulder's low mutter brought a stifled
snort from Skinner, who agreed, despite reaching over to
surreptitiously pinch Mulder's rear in warning. The young
ensign was in front of them now, and carefully made the
introductions.
"Captain Skinner, Mr. Mulder, may I present his lordship
Sir Alexander Vitaly Krycek, only recently come to this
port from his homeland of Veritas. Sir Krycek, this is
Captain Skinner of the 'Mariner' and his First Mate, Mr.
Mulder." At the name of the country, both Mulder and
Skinner froze, looking more closely, but unable to see
anything yet, as the man was making a deep bow, and the
damn hat and feather obscured what the wig did not. Their
hopes were dashed as a rich voice spoke from the hidden
face.
"It is a great honor to be introduced to you both. I thank
you for your time and patience."
"Yes, well, we are rather busy, your Lordship, so at the
risk of being rude, I would ask that you please state your
business and let us return to ours." Skinner's voice held
hurt, easily heard, and the polite smile was gone with the
disappointment.
"Of course, I know that you are a man that likes to see to
business before pleasure. I will not take much time,
gentlemen. I have a message for you, from a young man named
Rat."
"Is he well? Did he arrive safely home, then?" Mulder could
no longer hold back. The man had stood, but his face was
still hidden from them, as he kept it tilted downward, and
to one side, toying with the hilt of his sword.
"He is quite well. He arrived home safely, with no further
adventures to speak of. It was a great relief to his
family, you know. They'd given him up for dead, lost at
sea. It seems he'd been making his way to the islands in
hopes of expanding the family business there. It's their
policy to scout such locations in secret before putting
forth an offer, helps to avoid nasty surprises in the
future. He was half-way to his destination, when he decided
to stop at a pleasant little island where he'd heard they
grew sweet cane. It was on the way, and a day's rest or two
would be pleasant. His family had been thinking of growing
cane themselves, and it would be a profitable side trip.
You know the rest of the unfortunate story. He was a victim
of fate, and his side trip turned into nearly three months
of slavery. Still, he wasn't overly abused, and he wasn't
victimized, so he counted himself fortunate. He was,
however, furious at the situation, and made a solemn vow to
himself in the name of his god, his country and his family
name. It is this vow that he wishes me to share with you."
"We are most intrigued, Sir, pray continue." Skinner was
tingling with a low grade awareness. He'd been watching the
way the head and hands moved, and despite the gloves and
hat, was sure that he knew this man, knew him well. Mulder,
too, was trembling with the same knowledge.
"He vowed that he would control that which he could,
without risking his life or chances of escape. He would not
speak, would not answer as a slave to any man, nor make a
sound at all, until he was again free, his own man, and his
life returned to him. And so, he remained silent. He did
not cry out when they beat him, nor when they pierced his
ear." At this, the man's hands pushed back the wig on one
side, revealing a small pearl on a thin gold wire. "He did
not speak when asked his name, only answering to Rat, and
to the shortened form of his full name, Alex." Now, the
gloves came off, and though the nails were now clean and
polished, the hands were familiar. "And he did not speak
his heart, even when it was breaking with love, instead,
letting his body and his eyes speak for him."
And now, the head was raised, the hat removed, along with
the horrible wig. And the remembered veil of long dark
lashes lifted, revealing the brightest green eyes Skinner
and Mulder had ever seen. Both men gasped, though they'd
known instinctively that this was their Alex, their beloved
Rat, not a moment from their thoughts these long six
months.
"But he would also have you know, that do you still want
him, still care for him, you have but to ask, and he will
come back to you, willingly, with full voice and no
secrets. For he can now admit to you both that he loves
you, and that he has since before the attack by the
'Injustice'. And though he has both money and position of
his own, he will gladly put them aside for the chance to
again serve his Captain, the First Mate and the ship. As a
cabin boy or as general labor, he will clean, he will sew
and he will obey your word as law or willingly suffer the
consequences. These are the words I have been pledged to
say. I shall await your response, gentlemen. Await it most
eagerly, and with more terror than I knew in all my time as
a slave. What say you, am I doomed to these ridiculous
trappings of a civilized man, or shall I again take up the
breeches and easy shirt of a pirate?"
Mulder was trying manfully not to cry, but his eyes told
Alex wholeheartedly that his terms had been accepted.
Skinner's eyes were warmer than the tropical sun they stood
under, and a faint smile appeared.
"I think I shall have to take you back, Rat, if only to
have the right to strip you out of that horrible suit and
those obscene shoes."
Alex laughed, this time letting the sound escape his
throat, and then his arms were around them and theirs
around him, and the crew was looking at them as though
they'd gone insane.
"Come, boy. I've a crew that can see to the ship. Let's get
you back where you belong."
"And where would that be, my dearest Captain?" There was
humor and teasing in the smoky voice, but delight and love
as well.
Skinner didn't answer, only moved to grab Alex, lifting him
bodily over his shoulder, and settling him there with ease,
so Mulder answered for him.
"In our bed, of course. What shall I do with your hat?"
Mulder had retrieved it from the ground, looking at it in
distaste.
Skinner, his burden now settled to his satisfaction, in
turn, answered for Alex.
"Throw it away, but pluck the feather from it first. I
liked the sound of Alex's laughter." With a severe tickling
imminent, Alex began to squirm. A firm hand landed lovingly
on the tightly stretched seat of his breeches. "Hold still,
boy, I've no desire to drop you without a mattress beneath
you for comfort."
"Aye, Alex, besides, I'm enjoying the view." Mulder reached
out, tickling at Alex's snub nose with the feather,
eliciting a giggle.
"Oh, and Alex, one more thing you should know before we get
back aboard ship."
"Yes?"
"We love you, too." Skinner said it clearly, uncaring who
heard, and Alex sighed happily as he was carted onto the
ship, to begin his new life with the men he loved.
(cue the music as the scene of a ship sailing into the
sunset slowly fades to black)
THE END.
The Captive—A Pirate-y Thingy
by Raven
"Captain, we've found another slave."
