Doggett, guarding the men, spared a moment to say an equally silent
prayer of thanks. Working with as little noise and as much speed as they
could, Skinner and Doggett quickly cut the restraints holding Mulder to
the floor and the one around his neck. Doggett helped Skinner get the
unconscious man into a fireman's carry, and then led them carefully out
of the pitch black corridor, the night vision goggles barely having enough
secondary light to function.
They had to stop several times, crouching and waiting for the hall to
clear, and Skinner prayed that Mulder would stay out until they could
make their full escape. The slightest sound could be disastrous.
Mulder was already cold, nearly too cold, and Skinner shivered in his own
cold suit. Doggett, too, would be severely chilled, but it was necessary.
The facilities had begun to use thermal scan alarms, anything within
normal human body range would trigger the sensors, so the flap packets
in each man's uniform now contained cold packs, and they'd modified
the Aussie hats, too. It wouldn't have been so bad, if they hadn't needed
to concentrate the cold on the most heat generating portions of the body.
Namely, head, torso and groin. It was one of the few times male
physiology wasn't a help. Now, crouching behind a door, Skinner winced
as the cold was forced even tighter against his already cringing balls.
God, he hated aliens.
Shifting the limp form over his shoulders, Skinner spared the thought
that sometimes, he really hated Mulder, too. Especially when the man
went renegade, ignoring intelligence and everyone around him, Alex
included, to go off on his own, investigating what only Mulder had
refused to see as a trap.
They'd gotten a report of a cloning facility on a small island to the west
of their position. Alex had seen the reports for that island, and nothing
in them had indicated that it had ever been used in that way. It had,
however, been used to hold prisoners and as a storehouse of alien
technology. Knowing that it would be hot, and that the security was
intense, Alex had forbidden even a recon check of it. Mulder had insisted
that they make a cursory check at least, simply because of the possibility
of clones. They'd had a fight, brief but loud, resulting in Mulder's
agreement that it was too dangerous and the nature of the cloning
information suspect at best.
And Mulder had lied. Two days later, telling Alex that he was going with
Convers and Danville to investigate a possible supply stop, Mulder had
driven out of the gate.The three men had left together, but some miles
down the road, Mulder had faked a radio signal and after an equally fake
conversation with headquarters, told the other two men to go on to the
supply stop, that Scully was on her way to pick up Mulder, Alex needing
his help with some intelligence that had just come in. They bought it, of
course, and soon Mulder was on his way to check out the forbidden
facility.
About the time that Convers and Danville showed up minus Mulder, a
report came in that he'd been captured, from no less than three reliable
sources. One of them reported that he'd been killed in the capture.
Alex had turned to stone while they watched, eyes going as dark and
empty as a cave. He'd managed to work out a rescue plan and see it off,
but Alex was hanging on by a thread, anyone could see that.
As Skinner stood to creep down the hallway again, the reclaimed man
swaying against his back, he prayed desperately that they'd make it out
alive, not wanting to think about what would happen to Alex if they
didn't.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the two men made it out of the
facility and headed for the pick up point, a tiny finger of land that
stretched into the water on the north side of the artificial island. It
wasn't
much, but it was the only place where they had a prayer of safely docking
for even a few minutes.
Now, as they neared it, they saw the low-lying boat approach. It was
nearly flat, lying more like a raft, but it was the best they could manage
and the only vessel that didn't trigger its own set of alarms, the scans
not seeing it as a boat, but as debris.
As soon as it was close enough, Doggett helped Skinner get Mulder into
it, and then both men lay down on either side of him. The refugee
piloting the boat barely raised her head from her own prone position,
and began to steer them toward safety.
It was nearly an hour to a safe pick up point, and Skinner and Doggett
shared worried glances the entire way. Mulder was still out, though they
could find no reason for him to be. His pulse and respiration seemed
okay, but nothing made the man stir.
Silently cursing, Skinner took advantage of the fact that he was lying
practically on top of the smaller man, and let one hand close on Mulder's.
He noticed that Doggett had done the same thing, and with a faint nod
of reassurance to each other, they lapsed into prayerful waiting.
Once at the pick up point, Skinner and Doggett got Mulder off the boat,
and into the back of a heavy truck. Scully was waiting for them, and she
wasted no time in beginning an exam. She drew blood, took every sample
she could, knowing that every second could count.
Finally, about fifteen minutes from camp, she gave a sigh of relief,
looking at a bright yellow test tube in her hand.
"It's okay. They just sedated him, plain ordinary human drugs. He'll sleep
it off, and aside from a slight headache and some residual grogginess, he
should be just fine when he wakes up."
A sigh of relief echoed around the truck, and in its cessation, Skinner's
muttered, "At least until Alex gets a hold of him," sounded clearly. There
was a moment when everybody thought about that, and then with a
group shudder, they all turned their attention to other, more pleasant
topics.
Alex was waiting for them at the entrance to the camp. It had taken every
ounce of his not inconsiderable will power not to go along, but he hadn't
dared. He simply couldn't risk it. With Mulder already missing, known
captured and presumed dead, Alex would have put the entire resistance
at risk, had he gone. Instead, though it ripped his heart out, he'd sent
Doggett and Skinner, knowing that Doggett was one of his best men,
and that Skinner, in addition to being extremely skilled at recovery
missions, loved Mulder, too. Not the same way, certainly, but Alex knew
that Skinner would willingly die to save Mulder, wouldn't hesitate for a
moment to do whatever was necessary to bring him back.
Now, hearing the truck pull up, seeing that it was his men, hearing the all
clear, Alex didn't even wait for the vehicle to stop. As soon as it slowed,
he took a few running steps, caught the side and jumped into the back.
He took in the limp form lying under the blankets, and his pale features
lightened even more.
"Alive. And fine, Alex. He's alive and he's fine," Scully hastened to say,
and Alex, now kneeling beside his lover, reached out a shaking hand, eyes
frozen to the quiescent features.
"He's okay?" It was as though he couldn't bring himself to touch Mulder,
the trembling hand simply hovered about Mulder's body, and Scully
couldn't help herself. She knelt down beside him, and pushed his hand
down onto Mulder's chest. His warm, beating, rising and falling chest.
Alex actually gave a little cry, and tried to pull back instinctively, but
Scully was holding his one hand with both of hers, and she didn't let him
ease up.
"He's okay, Alex. Alex, he's fine. They drugged him, but he's just sedated.
Sleeping, Alex, he's only asleep." She said the words firmly, looking at
the stricken features. If she'd ever doubted that she did the right thing
locking them in together, the look on Alex's face would have absolved
her. The face was in anguish, and as she felt Alex's hand relax, the
fingers
now pressing lightly over Mulder's heart of their own volition, she moved
one of hers up to Alex's shoulder, squeezing.
"He's okay?" The words were a desperate whisper, and the eyes full of
desperate need.
"Yes. He's okay. Alive and well, not harmed at all. They drugged him and
tied him up for later. He's not harmed in the least. He'll be awake soon,
and perfectly normal. Well, normal for Mulder." She smiled gently at this
last, and Alex's mouth quirked slightly, and then he closed his eyes, the
relief coming over him visibly.
And then, for the first time in front of anybody but Mulder, Alex began
to cry. Not just tear up with emotion, but cry. He laid his head down on
Mulder's chest, collapsing across the slumbering form, and began to cry,
not caring that his top three people were witnessing his breakdown.
Scully felt the last, tiny resistant piece of her resentment shatter at the
sight, and again, gave into instinct. She reached out, putting her arms
around the shaking shoulders and holding tightly. Alex let his head be
dragged over to her lap, and she held and soothed and rocked him, until
he'd calmed.
When the truck had stopped, Doggett had moved to the back, guarding
their privacy, ensuring that no one interrupted or saw. He stood there
now, giving them time, a subtle motion enough to let the camp know to
back off until further notice. Alex needed this, and Doggett meant to see
that he wasn't rushed through it.
"Oh, Alex! It's okay, shhh, hush now, easy..." They were nothing words,
meant just to comfort him, and they did. After just a few precious
moments, Alex took a couple of shuddering breaths, and eased back.
Skinner handed over a handkerchief without comment, though he did let
his hand rest on Alex's bent neck for a few moments, until the man was
back in control.
"Better?" Scully asked it gently, knowing Alex was liable to resent her
comfort, as much as he'd needed it before. She was relieved when he
only gave her a tiny smile.
"Yeah. Thank you, Dana. Walt. And you, too, John. Sorry about the
waterworks, when it comes to Mulder..." Alex gave a tired sigh, and
swallowed hard. "Anyway, thank you. I owe you, each of you."
"You owe Mulder, and I hope payback's a real bitch." Skinner muttered it
thickly, and Alex's eyes darkened, the pain flaring in them again so
brightly that Skinner regretted his words at once. "I'm sorry, Alex. You
don't need that shit from me, especially not now."
"No, Walt. You have every right to complain, to want to make sure he's
dealt with. You just risked your life to save him, that gives you some
bitching rights." Alex slumped a little, reaching out and trailing the back
of one finger down Mulder's face, his near worship of the man clearly
visible. "He's this amazing, incredible man, his mind alone leaves me in
awe. But his heart is even bigger, and he listens to it, follows it, makes
these incredible leaps of intuition and faith. It's like his soul has a
homing
beacon, and no matter how many times Fox puts it at risk, it always
comes back to him, better than before. It's one of the things I admire
about him the most."
Alex swallowed, the others remaining silent, knowing he was more or less
thinking aloud, and feeling somehow privileged to be allowed into his
private ruminations this way. While they'd all become friends over the
years, they'd never really been close with Alex. Nobody but Mulder could
really claim that. Since he and Mulder had become lovers, Alex had made
an effort to open up more, to reveal himself to them, but this was the
first time he'd ever shown them his pain.
"I could stop him, you know. I know exactly what buttons to push, and
how to push them. I could stop him from ever pulling another stunt like
this again. I could fix him so that he'd never dare step a toe out of line
again. But not without breaking him. Not without killing his spirit, taking
away all those things that make him who and what he is. It would ruin
him, leave him completely useless."
Alex raised weary eyes to the others. His voice had a pleading quality that
made it impossible to ignore.
"I can't take away his fire, his drive, his need, no matter how many times
it nearly takes him away. I can't ask him to be anything but Fox William
Mulder. I'd rather see him dead than a husk, a shell, some mindless
automaton."
"We don't want that either, Alex. And no one wants to see him broken."
Scully's voice was gentle, and her tone let Alex know she was speaking
the truth. "But somewhere in the middle, Alex, something between
letting him run wild and breaking him completely. There has to be
middle ground, Alex. We can't afford to lose him, not even to himself.
He has to be made to see what this is doing, he needs to feel the pain he's
handing out so thoughtlessly, the risks he's taking with everyone, not just
himself."
Alex sighed, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. He looked like a very tired
three-year old, and Skinner couldn't help but grin, even as Alex's words
moved him. "I don't know middle ground! Camp punishments I can deal
out, I know how to do that, but none of that works for Mulder. He
doesn't care. Other than taking him away from me, putting him in
isolation. And that's no good for this either, it just makes him more
likely to do something wild to get my attention."
That was true, and they all knew it.
Alex saw the nods, and continued, more calmly. "Look, I agree,
something has to be done, you're right. He has to be punished, and it has
to be severe enough to get his attention, but without killing his drive,
his spirit. But I don't have a fucking clue what that punishment should be.
Please, if you can think of anything, I'm wide open here. Walt? You were
his boss for years, how did you get him to behave?"
Skinner shook his head sadly. "I didn't. I never could, not on something
like this. Nothing I ever did worked, he still ran off the minute you..."
Trailing off, Skinner shrugged apologetically.
"The minute I called. I know. Dana? Did you ever have any luck?"
"No, not with something like this. He ditched me so many times and in
so many ways that I had my own litter patrol. I'm sorry, Alex."
Gritting his teeth, Alex felt like screaming. He was just about to snap,
when Doggett spoke up. "Beat him."
"What?" Three people said it in unison, and they all three looked at him
like he was crazy. Swallowing hard at the faintly menacing tone in Alex's
voice, Doggett repeated himself.
"I said, beat him. Look, not beat him up or nothin', but well, when we
first locked you two up, and you got into that fight, what stopped him,
what made him think?"
"I slapped him." Alex looked thoughtful, though reluctantly so.
"Exactly. You didn't hit him hard, hell, it was just barely more than a
tap,
but it got his attention. Words don't work with Mulder, and guilt trips
just make him run harder. You could confine him, but you're right,
Mulder doesn't give a shit about anything like that. He used to live in
confinement, self-imposed, but it was nearly the same. The only thing
I've ever seen get to him, actually snap him out of himself was a physical
blow. Granted, I haven't known him as long or as well as you people, but
I've seen a lot of shit thrown his way, and this was the only thing that
ever stuck."
"That time his water was drugged and he took a swing at me, he didn't
talk about any of what was going on until after I pinned him, shook him
a little." Walter offered it while chewing the bottom corner of his lip.
"Those fights you used to have, the only thing that ever made Mulder
back off was when I threatened to shoot him, and when Walter could get
a hand on him." Scully offered this regretfully.
Alex looked miserable. "Jesus, it does makes sense. Especially if you look
at his profile. He'd respond to something physical." Alex sighed and then
growled, "Oh, fuck, I hate this! I hate this war and I hate aliens and I
fucking hate, hate, hate all this emotional bullshit!" The anger fled as
quickly as it had vanished, and now, with another deep sigh, Alex looked
back down at Mulder. "I swore I'd never hurt him again, not
intentionally. I'm his lover and I'm supposed to beat the crap out of him?
What the hell kind of logic is that?" There was an achingly sad note in his
voice, and Scully put her hand on his arm again.
"Not logic, Alex. Love. Tough love, the kind you've always had for
Mulder." Scully offered this earnestly.
"The bad guy. Again. Christ, he'll probably go back to calling me
Krycek." Alex couldn't help the spasm of pain that crossed his features at
this, and he closed his eyes briefly. Skinner reached out, putting an arm
around Alex's shoulders in support.
"No, he won't. In fact, he'll probably love you more." Scully said this
with an odd note in her voice, and when Alex looked at her
questioningly, she gave a sad smile. "I shot him once, remember? I was
his partner and his best friend and he was half in love with me at the
time, and I put a bullet in his shoulder to stop him. I figured he'd hate
me, bring me up on charges, something. He bought me a stuffed hamster
with vampire fangs. I'm still working through the deeper implications of
that."
Alex gave a low chuckle, and Scully's smile grew more genuine.
"The point is, he knew I only did it because I cared. He knows you love
him, Alex. I'm not saying he'll take it gracefully or without a fight, but
after, when he thinks about it, I'm willing to bet Mulder's going to be
damn grateful that you cared enough to stop him."
Alex reached out, taking her hand and briefly kissing the back of it, not
trusting himself to answer. "Okay, so how do I do this? I mean, what
exactly do I do? What's middle ground?"
There was a moment's silence, and then Skinner spoke quietly, "Alex, I
have to get personal here, and I'm sorry for that, but I might have an
idea."
"Go for it, Walt, please, ask anything."
"Do you guys ever role play? I mean, we've all seen you smack him on
the ass, and it's fairly common knowledge that you spank him sexually
sometimes. But do you ever roleplay a discipline scenario?"
"Oh, Jesus and fried cats..." Doggett muttered it with a furious blush,
closing his eyes tightly at what he was listening to, and while Skinner was
a touch pink himself, he and Alex shared a grin.
"No, we never have. It's always just been for sex."
"Have you ever used anything but your hand on him?"
"No, his tolerance is only low to mid-range. Besides, I never wanted it to
hurt, I only spank him hard enough to make him feel good."
"Is he always over your knee?"
"For more than a couple of swats, yeah."
Skinner made a gesture of summation with his hands. "Then I'd say you
need to bend him over a table and take a paddle or a belt or a switch to
his ass. It won't be erotic for him, and it won't interfere with your
erotic play, either, not if you change up the position and the implement.
Besides, you'll be scolding him while you spank, and that'll make it
different, too. It'll hurt, but you won't have to worry about harming him,
and it'll still be relatively mild, a dozen or so strokes should do it. I
mean,
at the worst we're talking a couple of bruises, a welt or two. I doubt
you'd have to go that hard even."
Alex had been chewing on his thumbnail, and thinking furiously. He
loathed the idea of using physical punishment on Mulder, but he honestly
couldn't see a way out of it, and Skinner's idea had merit.
"It would still be loving, too. He wouldn't associate it with anger, I
don't
think, not like a punch or something. It's intimate, still something just
between the two of us." Alex sat up straighter, nodding. "Yeah, okay. I
can do that, a dozen, just past his comfort tolerance, maybe one or two
way past, to make sure he knows I'm serious."
"Alex, what if he does hate you?" Skinner asked it cautiously, but
knowing somebody needed to ask.
"Then he hates me. But he's alive and safe while he does it." There was a
tidal wave of emotion behind the dam of those few words, but it held.
Alex had been holding Mulder's hand still, and now he felt a squeeze.
Looking down, startled, he saw hazel eyes looking up at him with
genuine regret. "I won't hate you." The words were hoarse, Mulder's
throat dry from the drugs.
Scully was reaching for a water bottle, cursing mentally as she realized
that Mulder's susceptibility to drugs was getting shorter and shorter with
every dose. Soon, she doubted she could put him out if she wanted to.
Or needed to. Thinking hard, she handed him the bottle, as Alex helped
Mulder to sit up.
"Oh, Christ, Fox, you scared the hell out of me. Us."
"Sorry." He took a long, deep sip, and then cleared his throat.
"Are you okay? Really okay? Dana didn't find anything."
"I'm fine. They gave me a shot and tied me up. That's it."
"Thank God." Alex reached out, holding Mulder tightly, feeling the
slightly lethargic arms hold him back. Alex eased back enough to kiss his
beloved, and shuddered as he thought of never doing this again.
"I'm here, Angel." Mulder said it quietly, and Alex nodded into his
shoulder, needing the comfort that only Mulder could give him.
After a few moments of needed reconnection, Alex asked quietly, "How
long have you been listening?"
"I was out, but I was aware of everything being said around me. I knew
what was happening, the whole time, I just couldn't respond until the
drug wore off." Scully made another note in his medical file, hand
shaking slightly as she did so. Damned alien hybrid technology, if she
ever had to actually operate on Mulder he'd know every minute of it, and
that was unthinkable. She turned her attention back to the scene before
her, needing time to figure out how to deal with Mulder's changing
physiology.
"Then you know." Alex said it with defeat, and Mulder, fully awake and
recovered now, sat up on his own, nodding.
"Yeah. And while I hate it, I don't hate you. Any of you. I can't, not
when I just realized what I've been doing to you. I always thought, it was
just me, you know? I'm risking myself, so what? It's my choice, my life.
But that's not true anymore. I guess it never really was true, not for
years,
I was just too selfish to see that. What I did, put everybody at risk, I
put
the Resistance at risk, and for what? Why? Because I'm failing Samantha
somehow if I don't follow up every single lead, however false?"
Mulder shook his head, the familiar weight of grief for his sister settling
on him like a shawl. But then, he threw it off, sitting up straight again.
"Maybe. Say a lead comes in and I don't follow it and Samantha dies.
How does that compare to me following a false lead and dying myself?
And because I'm dead, I leave you, shattered, and the Resistance
wounded and so on. One girl, one woman that's probably been dead for
over a decade, against the rest of my life with you, trying to defeat the
alien bastards that started the whole thing? I can't do that. I can't
justify it
anymore, going off on my own. I never could, I just didn't care before. I
care now."
He reached out, pulling Alex to him for a kiss, sweet and soft, if brief.
Mulder then turned to look at the others.
"I'm sorry. I put all of you at risk for my own selfish needs, and I thank
you for saving me when I didn't deserve it. It won't happen again. I'm
not saying I won't do something equally foolish," here he grinned, and
Alex could have cried again at the sight of that beautiful, wonderful
movement, "but I can say it won't be like this. That's not good enough, I
know that. You do have to punish me, Alex. The camp has to know you
don't play favorites. If I'd been anyone else, you'd have just kicked me
out. They understand you can't do that, but they need to know that
you're not letting me get away with it, either."
"I know. I've got a list of camp punishments to go with..."
"My spanking?" Mulder grinned again, and Alex closed his eyes.
"Jesus, Fox, I'm gonna have to hit you, how the hell can you grin?"
"Because I don't mind. I don't like the idea, and my dignity is already
outraged, but in my heart, I know it's right. It's fair and it's what I
need.
Doggett was right, I don't care about the rest, and rhetoric bounces right
off me." Mulder turned slightly, looking at Skinner. "Not to say your
lectures weren't effective, Walter. When you were just pissed I could
ignore you. But once in a while you'd stop yelling and start scolding. That
always got through to me. I didn't care if you were mad, but when you
sounded disappointed, it was hard to take." He then turned back to Alex.
"You do need to scold me, Alex. But not for me. For you. Scolding me
and spanking me is your punishment."
"My punishment? What the hell did I do?" Alex looked completely
bewildered, and Mulder reached out, taking his face in his hands.
"Baby, you're the leader. You should have stopped me the last time I
pulled this shit. You have to keep these people safe, and that includes
safe from me. You can't let me keep risking us all for my own petty
needs. It's harder for you, because you love me. But that makes it even
more crucial, too. You failed, Alex. You let me go too far, and now you
have to pay the price, by being the one to punish me."
Doggett thought that dealing with Mulder's shit on a daily basis was
punishment enough, but wisely kept his mouth shut.
"You're right, Fox. If you'd have been anyone else, I'd have never let it
get to this point. I won't again, my word on that, even if I have to bust
your ass in the middle of camp to get through to you."
"That's my angel." Mulder was flushed, but he managed a look of tender
regard. He kissed Alex on the forehead, then sighed. "And now, I've
been about as noble as I can be. I've used up all my courage, and I'm
about to have a complete panic attack at the thought of being punished
like that. I need to piss like a racehorse and I could use some food, so
could we please get out of this truck, and back to our tent? And then
could you punish me, and get it over with? Please, Alex, don't make me
wait for it."
Alex hushed him with a kiss, then stood, holding out his hand. "I'll take
care of you."
"You always have." Mulder let Alex help him up, taking the hand and
standing up. He paused, then turned to Scully, hugging her tightly. With
an almost shy hesitation, Mulder then hugged Skinner equally tight,
smiling as the strong arms that had literally carried him to safety more
than once, squeezed back. A mischievous look took over his features and
before the man could voice the protest visible on his face, Mulder had
hugged Doggett, too. "Fried cats?"
"Alex, please?" Doggett whined it at Alex, and the man chuckled, before
taking Mulder's hand again, and helping him down from the truck. They
walked to the tent that way, holding hands, and Alex radioed the kitchen
to send a tray to their tent. It was waiting for them when they got there.
Mulder used the latrine tent, washed up and ate. While he was tending to
his personal needs, Alex was looking through their possessions. He didn't
want to whip Mulder, it just seemed wrong somehow. He thought about
one of their hairbrushes, but that didn't seem right, either. He didn't
want
to use anything personal, but the thought of a switch made him cringe.
Finally, he moved to their "office", a corner of the biggest tent used for
camp work. There was a ruler there, heavy and solid. It was a good
eighteen inches long and quite thick. Originally part of a carpenter's tool
kit, it was a three inch wide length of oak, and Alex hefted it
experimentally. It was good, impersonal and yet representing the camp,
in a symbolic way. It would do.
Turning around with it in his hand, Alex saw Mulder looking at him with
wide eyes. The man swallowed hard, but only stood, wiping his suddenly
sweaty palms on his pants.
"Where do you want me?" The man was practically quivering, and Alex
didn't hesitate. He pointed to the table holding some maps, and Mulder
made his way over. Alex cleared the top, and then turned to Mulder.
"Take down your pants, Fox. Underwear, too." Mulder clenched his jaw,
but obeyed, and then stretched himself across the table top. He took a
firm grip on the sides, knowing that Alex might be dreading this, but that
wouldn't stop him from following through with merciless justice. "Fox,
you know what you did. You know why it was wrong. But I'm going to
scold you anyway, because I think you need to hear it from me, not just
yourself. I'm going to start, Fox. I'll give you twelve, and I talk while I
do it, understood?"
"Yes, Alex." The voice was husky with nerves, and Alex took a deep
breath, placing one hand in the small of Mulder's back. The other he
drew back, raising the ruler high, and then brought it whistling down on
the center of the pale backside.
Mulder sucked in his breath, releasing it in a grunt of pain. He hadn't
expected it to hurt that much, and now he panted, trying to get ready for
the next blow, but Alex had already started the arc down. Another bright
red rectangle bloomed across his backside, covering half the first stripe,
as well.
Alex ignored the sound of pain this drew and began to speak. "Fox, I
love you. What you did hurt me on every level. That's not why you're
being punished, but you need to know that. As your commanding officer,
as your fellow soldier, as a member of the Resistance and as your lover,
what you did wronged me."
A pause, and now Mulder's entire rear was reddened as two more licks
landed.
"You were selfish, self-centered and self-absorbed. This isn't just your
fight anymore, Fox, it belongs to all of us. And we can't afford to lose
you, it's going to take all of us to win. I can't do it alone, Fox, I don't
have your mind. Nobody has your mind. We can't replace you, Fox, don't
you understand that?"
This time Alex brought the wood down with virtually no time between
licks, and Mulder gave a small cry as the sensations from the four blows
built one atop the other.
"For the next month, you are restricted to camp. You are on partner
leave only for the month after that. You will, by yourself over this next
month, dig the new latrine ditch, and fill in the old one. You are on half-
rations for the next two weeks. Tomorrow morning, you will be confined
to the holding pen, where you will remain for the next three days. You
will think about what you could do to help avoid this situation in the
future. You will write me a full paper on the subject, and you'd by God
better be honest, Fox."
Alex laid down two more spanks, and Mulder groaned past his clenched
teeth.
"And you will never—," Alex paused and, with a deep breath, landed a
near full strength blow to the undercurve of Mulder's rear, "—ever—"
another, the last lick, and just as hard as the one before it, fell in the
same spot, "—lie to me again."
Mulder couldn't help it, he'd cried out loudly as the furious sting and
burn of the last two seared his already tender flesh. Now, with silent
tears
running down his face, Mulder sniffled, but didn't move. His backside
was screaming, but he couldn't deny it, he felt better.
"Are we clear on everything, Fox?"
"Y-yes, Alex." It came out shaky as hell but it was intelligible, and Alex
dropped the ruler down on the desk, before leaning over and very
carefully placing a kiss on each of Mulder's abused hind quarters. Mulder
winced, but he relaxed, too, knowing his punishment, the physical part
anyway, was over.
"Finished." Alex helped his lover to stand, and then took Mulder into his
arms.
"I'm sorry, Alex, so damn sorry."
"Me, too, babe. It's okay, it's okay, Fox. It's over now, beloved." Mulder
didn't protest as Alex knelt down, helping him take off his pants, then led
him over to their bedroll. Lying down, with Mulder lying in his arms,
Alex finally relaxed.
They held in silence for a long time, and then Alex asked softly, "Are you
okay?"
"Yeah. My ass is killing me, but I'm fine."
"Do you forgive me? For beating you?" Alex asked it through a tight
throat, and Mulder raised his head from Alex's chest, turning the man's
face to look at him.
"Alex, Angel, there's nothing to forgive. In the first place, you didn't
beat me, you spanked me."
"Semantics."
"No, it's not semantics. Alex, were you hitting in anger? Was your
purpose to hurt me? Were you getting revenge, seeking to inflict harm?
Were you trying to control me? Make me afraid of you so I'd bow to
your will? No, none of those things. No, baby, you were punishing me.
Trying to help, trying to save me. You were acting with love, Alex. There
is a difference."
Alex nodded. "I know. I just feel awful. I made you cry, Fox. I never
wanted to hurt you again, not ever."
"Just like I never wanted to hurt you again. But I did. God, Alex, I hurt
you much worse than you did me. If you can forgive me, then I can
damn sure forgive you. What do you say, babe? How about we forgive
each other?"
"Deal."
Mulder yawned, just as Alex was about to kiss him. "Sorry. There must
still be a little bit of that drug in my system."
"Not to mention you're emotionally exhausted. I am too, for that matter.
C'mon. Let's get you ready for bed, okay?"
"Sounds good."
They saw to their needs, and then Mulder stretched out on his stomach
groaning slightly as his stiff muscles protested. Alex grabbed the bottle
of oil they used for massage, and straddled him, careful not to touch the
still scarlet rear.
His fingers glided across the smooth flesh of Mulder's back, and the
groan this time was one of pleasure.
"Feel good?"
"God, yes! Oh, yeah, right there...ummm."
Alex continued his massage until Mulder was nearly asleep, and the last
of the tension had left his body.
"Thank you." The voice was a warm rumble, and Alex kissed Mulder's
neck, before sliding into bed beside him.
"You're welcome. I love giving you a massage, you know that."
"I wasn't thanking you for that. I was thanking you for spanking me. But
thanks for the massage, too. G'night, Alex."
"Goodnight, Fox." Alex looked at the man, now genuinely asleep beside
him, and shook his head. If he lived to be a hundred, and Mulder lived
every day of it with him, Alex would still never understand that man.
Giving up trying, for the billionth time since they'd met, Alex simply
blew out the candle and went to sleep, clutching his enigma close to his
chest.
The next day, Mulder began by posting a letter of apology on the camp
board. He then made his way to the holding cell, wishing Alex was going
to be with him again for the next three days. Mulder obediently stepped
into the cell, watching with acceptance as Skinner turned the lock.
Once secure, Skinner asked him softly, "You okay?"
"Except for a bruised backside and ego, yes. I'm fine, Walter. And again,
thank you for everything. And while I'm at it, I'm sorry for running off
on you all those times when you were my boss. I knew it pissed you off,
but I never realized it hurt you, too."
"That's in the past, Mulder. I've officially forgiven you for everything
you did when you were my agent."
"Really?"
"Well, except the Block case. Until I get to spank you myself, I'll never
forgive you for that fiasco."
"Oh, come on, sir, it wasn't that bad." Mulder was teasing, the 'sir' was a
dead give away, and Skinner lapsed into full A.D. mode, despite the smile
in his own eyes.
"Agent, you crucified a stuffed Easter bunny on the lawn of a synagogue
and then set it on fire, while secretly videotaping the confessional booth
in the local Catholic church after, of course, dumping red food coloring
into the baptismal font. And that was just day one."
"Alright, alright. It was that bad." Skinner couldn't hold back his
amusement any longer, and Mulder laughed with him. Skinner reached
through the slit, holding out his hand. Mulder took it, and they managed
a shake, before Skinner set the timer, placing it on the food tray and
sending it in to Mulder. It would count off the hours until he was free.
The time passed easily enough, with Mulder working on the paper for
Alex, and taking the time to really, for the first time, work a profile on
himself, with brutal honesty. When he sent for more paper a fifth time,
he was pleased to see Alex brought it to him. This wasn't a bending of
the rules, everyone in isolation was allowed one ten-minute visitation
from the person of their choice per day.
"Hey, Angel, I'm glad to see you."
"Me, too, Fox. I miss you, damn it."
"I know. But we've only got..." He leaned back to look at the timer, then
straightened back up, "...fifty-six hours left until we can be together
again."
"That's fifty-five hours and fifty-nine minutes too long." Alex reached
through the barred slit, taking Mulder's hand as best he could.
"Sweetheart, what are you writing in there? You keep sending out for
paper."
"I'm working on a profile for you, Alex. A profile of me. In depth, and
brutally honest."
"Babe, are you sure? I mean, isolation's not the best place to go digging
through your psyche."
"Normally, no. But see, I'm not alone. This place, it's not a prison for
me. It's one of the safest places I can think of, and it's full of nothing
but
wonderful memories. You surround me in here, Alex. I can think and
look inside myself in safety and comfort, because I'm overwhelmed by
your presence in here."
"You're a hopeless romantic, you know that?" Alex's glistening eyes
belied the sarcasm, and Mulder shot him a beaming smile.
"Yep. Page forty-seven."
Alex laughed then, and his watch beeped. "I have to go, time's up. I love
you, Fox."
"I love you, too, Alex."
The paper ended up being some three hundred pages long. Alex had it
typed up and bound, then gave a copy to Skinner and to Scully, keeping
one for himself. Mulder finished out his punishments, and never went
rogue again.
Six months later, Alex proposed.
Fire—Burned
by Raven
"Thank God!" Skinner muttered it with great earnestness, as he felt the
pulse in Mulder's neck.
