He stood silent for a moment, gazing out across the Thames Estuary towards
the distant Oil Refinery on Canvey Island. His attention was pulled away by
the sight and sound of a train passing far below, it's eight carriages
giving it all the appearance of a slim caterpillar crawling over the ground
at his feet.
This was a strange place he'd chosen for a meeting, and yet Alex was pleased
with the location. He liked it here. It was peaceful, with just the distant
sound of the receding train to break the natural silence. He could imagine
it being a good picnic spot on a bright, hot summer's day but now, in late
winter, it was deserted.
He wandered across to the stones that made up what was left of the tower,
trying to remember when they said this place had been built. Was it 12th
century? The fortification had been built on a hill overlooking the Estuary;
a dark sentinel watching over the river access to London.
If he listened carefully, he felt certain he would hear the history of the
place, perhaps the sound of running feet upon the ancient stone, or the
raised shouts of the watch when they spotted a foreign ship gliding along
the deep channel that would take it straight into the very heart of London.
His hand smoothed over the pebbled surface, and he found himself giving into
the boyish urge to climb a few short feet up to one of the few remaining
windows. The view through the window slit was eerie, perhaps because he
could feel the ghostly presence of all those who had stood in this same
place over the long centuries. With a sigh, he jumped back down to the
ground and straightened out his leather jacket. With uncustomary disregard
for his personal safety, he stalked back out into the open where he would
have a better view across the landscape.
He looked back at the Oil Refinery; the reason for his presence here today,
aware of its significance in the Consortium's plans. The late Englishman had
told him about the experiments being carried out there but, unlike in
Tunguska, the victims were not native to this land. They were illegal
immigrants deliberately placed on the boats travelling into the Thames by
unscrupulous Consortium agents with promises of a new life waiting for them
in a new land. Those promises were all too real, but it was not the kind of
life those people had hoped to find. With no one knowing who they were or
where they were going, they had no chance of escaping the Consortium's
clutches.
Krycek wondered, briefly, how many more of these places there were around
the world, hidden in plain sight, with its rows of prisoners being subjected
to the oilien worms of the Tunguskan meteor.
The damp grass muffled the other man's approach but Krycek's sixth sense
kicked in and he turned, reading the discomfort on Mulder's face.
"Great day to pick for a meeting in the middle of nowhere, Krycek."
"Hardly the middle of nowhere, Mulder. There's a town less than half a mile
away. Anyway, this place has a good view of why we're here."
Alex pointed out toward the distant refinery, eyes flicking over to check
that Mulder had followed the direction of his finger.
"It's an oil refinery."
"No. It's a Consortium-owned oil refinery."
"And the significance?"
"Tunguska."
Alex watched a shadow cross the expressive eyes, hardening them into bright
jewels for a moment as past memories were reawakened. They had come a long
way since Tunguska, finally reaching an uneasy truce, both men still filled
with the grievances they held against each other, and yet both willing to
put those grievances aside for the duration. Of course, Alex knew that there
was far more to it than that, at least on his part.
He wondered if Mulder would ever realise how much he cared for him: loved
him. He had borne that love for so long, through so many beatings, through
so many fights both physical and verbal that it was hard to remember when
the lust had turned into this stupid form of unrequited love.
"So when do we go in?"
"We don't. Least you don't."
"Not on your miserable life, Krycek. I'm not staying behind."
"Still don't trust me?"
"Only as far as I could pick you up and throw you."
Alex grimaced, not needing to guess how far that was but secretely wishing
Mulder would put as much faith in him as he did in Mulder.
"Then it's a good job I've already been in and taken what you need."
Alex forced himself not to laugh at the comical expression on Mulder's face
as the emotions twisted from shock to confusion to anger. Alex stepped back
quickly as he recognised the hard glint reappearing in those beautiful eyes
a split second before Mulder raised his clenched fist, Krycek's sharp words
bridging the space between them.
"Not gonna be your punching bag no more, Mulder. You hit me... and I'll hit
you back harder."
Alex stared at Mulder, putting all his strength and determination into his
eyes. Unrequited love be damned, he had taken enough abuse from Mulder over
these last few years. He didn't need the additional pain of bruises and a
blackened eye when he already had the dull throb from what remained of his
severed arm to deal with. It was the one drawback of meeting in this
country; the cold, damp air seeped through the layers of clothing, making
his bones ache.
As if to mock him, the heavens opened, the first few gentle droplets swiftly
turning into a torrent of lashing rain as the wind picked up, driving the
rain into his face. He registered the shock of the icy cold rain on Mulder's
face, seeing the soft, spiky hair flatten against Mulder's head. They turned
as one, and raced back across the slippery wet grass to the delapidated
tower; the thick walls providing some shelter from the wind-driven rain.
Alex shivered inside his leather jacket, feeling the trickle of water
flowing from his wet hair down his spine. He swept a hand through the wet
strands, trying to squeeze out the excess water before it, too, found a path
down his back, silently wishing he still had that stupid-ass haircut. A
quick flick of his hand across his scalp had been enough to dry the
military-short haircut he had sported a few years earlier.
Alex turned to Mulder, sighing deeply when he saw the anger-filled eyes
stabbing at him as if he were responsible for the terrible weather in this
country. He swallowed a retort. Okay, maybe he wasn't responsible for the
weather but he could have, at least, picked a more sheltered rendezvous
spot.
They waited in silence, appraising each other covertly. Mulder looked
thinner than he remembered, a little more gaunt, the eyes more haunted and
glowing with some indefinable emotion. He saw the long fingers clenching and
releasing, and he wondered if Mulder was having images of them tightening
around his throat or smashing into his face. He knew what he would rather
Mulder did with those hands. He had seen those fingers caressing the
keyboard of a computer, dancing across the keys with an innate grace all of
their own. He had fantasies where Mulder played him like that keyboard;
fingers dancing over his flesh, memorising every centimetre of his body and
storing the image and touch in that clever mind. In his dreams Mulder would
hold him, caress him, whisper sweet endearments as they rocked towards a
gentle yet passionate climax.
Evidence of his need pushed against the front of his denims; Mulder's
closeness all his body needed to ignite the fires of lust until they were
burning in his loins. He licked away some of the rain that fell upon his
lips, welcoming the precious water into his suddenly dry mouth. With heart
and mind full of desire for Mulder, he glanced sideways, wanting to do his
own share of memorising, and caught Mulder staring back at him.
His heart lurched, skipping a beat before picking up the pace until it was
hammering in his chest, recognising the true source of that indefinable
emotion.
A jagged fork of lightning lit up the dulled sky as the storm escalated,
followed almost instantly by the rumble of thunder high overhead. Throwing
caution to the rushing wind, Alex took a step into Mulder's personal space.
Those beautiful hands grabbed at his head, fists clenching around the wet
strands as he was dragged forward, his mouth savaged in a bruising kiss that
was as raw as the elements surrounding them. He was slammed up against the
stone wall, head bouncing against the sharp pebbles as Mulder thrust his
tongue deep inside his mouth, pushing aside any resistance to his
near-brutal assault.
One hand left his head, sliding down between their close-pressed bodies, and
Alex gasped in a mixture of pleasure and pain as Mulder pushed roughly
against the hardened mass at his groin, fingers cupping his balls through
the denim and squeezing hard.
Mulder pushed backwards. Krycek's senses were momentarily overcome with
desire and confusion but, before he had time to protest, he realised
Mulder's intent. Both of those wonderful hands were reaching for his pants,
those clever fingers popping the button and sliding down the zip, drawing
out his hardened shaft. His pants were dragged down over his hips to his
knees, exposing him fully to the wintry elements and Mulder's smouldering
eyes. He gasped as his shaft was retaken in the strong grip, one hand
sliding along his length from base to head, the other tracing a path of fire
around his hip, across the curve of one asscheek before dipping into the
crevice. The hot mouth took his own, swallowing his groans, as one wet
finger circled the tight ring of muscle before pushing inside. He could feel
the pressure building, his muffled cries gasped into Mulder's mouth as the
finger raked over that special gland deep inside.
His senses overloaded and he came hard, his essence pumping over Mulder's
hand to be washed away by the falling rain. With barely enough time to draw
breath, he was spun around, face pushed against the cold, wet stone, hips
pulled back. A moment of fumbling was followed the feel of the blunt head
pressing against the entrance to his body. Alex took a deep breath, trying
to relax, cradling his face on his right arm and freely offering his body to
the expected, brutal invasion.
Moments passed, the rumble of thunder drifting off into the distance, the
wind dying down until the driving rain became a fine drizzle that found them
within the roofless tower. Alex could feel the chill of the cold rain
seeping through his clothing, feel the warmth of Mulder's left hand still
clasping his hip. He closed his eyes, aware that Mulder had come to his
senses, his rage abating with the rain storm. The pain of loss which filled
Alex far outweighed the expected pain from being roughly taken, and another
part of his heart began to shrivel and die.
He started to pull back into himself, to push aside the pain, his heart
hardening against this final rejection, when he felt that hand moving. He
had expected Mulder to push away from him, to step back with the knowledge
of what he had been about to do etched across his face in disgust; not so
much for his actions but for whom he was about to commit that act with.
Instead, both hands stroked his wet flanks, moving up beneath his jacket and
T-shirt to glide across the ridges of his ribcage. His breathing came faster
when he felt the lucious lips nuzzling against the wet strands at the nape
of his neck and he was unable to prevent the small sob falling from his own
cold lips.
Mulder pressed his lips against the soft, wet hair, nuzzling the strands
aside until he could reach the warm flesh beneath. His hands stroked along
the ribcage, tracing along one rib until his hands met, wrapped around the
lean frame. This was not the way he had always fantasised their first time
and yet, somehow, it was fitting that they should come together within the
raging elements of the storm. However, the storm was abating as fast as his
own emotions. The flashes of lightning that reflected the sharpness of his
anger had faded away, the rumble of thunder in the dark clouds had mirrored
the brooding, seething black rage that had filled him since the day he
learned of Krycek's duplicity; his betrayal. The lashes of rain were the
retorts that fell from his lips as he confronted this man, time and time
again but the wind that drove the rain had vanished.
Mulder tilted his head back, letting the drizzle fall over his face and he
wondered if he was imagining that he could see patches of blue sky within
the grey that was framed by the dilapidated tower of stone.
He tried a moment of self-analysis, trying to discover what had fuelled the
storm raging in his heart and realised that it was the thought of Alex
putting himself into danger—alone—rather than trusting him.
And why should he trust you, when all you ever do is hurt him?
He could feel the cold rain soaking through his clothing, its icy fingers
trailing along his spine, but Mulder knew that nothing truly mattered except
the warm body in his arms. He wanted Alex, and now he knew that Alex wanted
him. He let go of Alex with one arm, softly soothing when he felt the body
tense. Mulder reached into his pocket and withdrew the small tube of
vaseline he used as a lip salve in this cold country. He wrapped his arm
back around Alex, unscrewed the small top and squeezed all the contents onto
his fingers. With careless disregard for the natural beauty of the ruins,
Mulder dropped the spent tube, his hand slipping back around the heated,
damp flesh, his grease-slicked fingers stroking across the small entrance,
teasing inside and stretching the tight muscle. With infinite care he pulled
out his fingers and pressed the tip of his shaft against the prepared hole.
He pressed forward slowly, feeling the muscle give, the body swallowing his
engorged flesh. It was fascinating to watch, more erotic a sight than
anything he had ever seen in any of his porn collection; his hard flesh
pushing between the pale firm globes until he was pressed tight against the
cool, exposed flesh.
Mulder leaned over and nuzzled deep into the side of Alex's neck, tongue
lapping at the moistness from the softly falling rain. Alex turned his head,
and Mulder licked at the cold, wet lips, feeling them warm beneath him. He
dipped his tongue into the heat of the mouth, entwining with his companion
in a kiss full of desire rather than lust.
Pulling out of the warm body until only the head was still embedded, Mulder
then thrust back slowly, hearing the groan of pleasure as his shaft stroked
across that special gland once more.
They rocked together, slowly, his hand finding his lover's hardening sex.
Alex found himself caught between two pleasures. The hard shaft filled him,
rubbing across his prostate, sending flickers of fire searing through to his
nerve endings; the warm hand stroked over his own aching flesh, the
versatile thumb sliding over the sensitive tip, smearing the evidence of his
renewed passion. He could feel the cold thighs slapping against his own cool
flesh, could hear the soft murmurings as Mulder told him how good it was,
how wonderful it felt to possess him. He wanted this moment to last forever,
but his own body was spiralling out of control, his hips bucking back harder
against the thrusts, drawing Mulder deeper into his body. He cried out
softly as he came for a second time, his internal muscles clamping down hard
upon Mulder, milking his lover of every drop.
Alex supported the weight upon his back, even though his own legs were
threatening to collapse beneath him, his harsh gasps gradually softening,
his breath easing as his heartbeat slowed.
Far below, he could hear the distant sound of another train crawling across
the lowland. He shivered when Mulder pulled away, feeling bereft of more
than just the warmth of their bodies in contact. With cold, trembling
fingers, he started to pull up his jeans, his one hand making his movements
awkward. He stilled when he felt Mulder's hands upon him, uncertain as his
jeans were pulled up to cover his exposed ass.
"Thanks."
Silence. He wasn't truly sure what he was thanking Mulder for: the
assistance or for giving him what he had always dreamed of having—Mulder
inside him. Alex straightened himself out then turned to find Mulder
standing just a few feet away, watching him with that same haunted
expression in his eyes, but this time it was overshadowed by something more;
there was realisation mixed with a weary acceptance, as if Mulder had only
just come to learn of his own desire and had seen the futility in it. The
shadow quickly passed from the bright eyes. Alex sighed deeply, then looked
a way for a moment, gazing out into the distance where the oil refinery
could just be seen through the gaping hole in the side of the tower.
"So. When do we go in?"
"Already said I've been..."
"Know what you said, Krycek." Mulder grinned, seeming to mock the man
standing barely a few feet away from him. "You didn't think I'd actually
fall for that, did you?"
"Why change the habits of a lifetime, hey, Mulder?"
Alex could not help the bitterness inside from overflowing into words as he
felt the full weight of that mocking grin upon him, suddenly feeling used,
abused, and ashamed. He had wanted Mulder so bad that he thought he could
handle any regrets from Mulder, never truly believing he would experience
any regrets within himself. As he stared at that grinning face Alex felt
like a cheap whore, one who had been paid with a sharp slap around the face.
What did you expect? Proclamations of undying love just 'cos he fucked you?
"When and where?"
Alex swallowed down the bile that rose with the bitterness, very conscious
of the soreness of his ass, and of the warm trickle of Mulder's come between
his legs which only served to add to his physical and mental discomfort.
"Head onto the island. There's a place called Charfleet's Industrial Estate.
Be there at two-thirty... and I'll find you. The refinery's about a mile
west of there, across the open fields."
Mulder nodded, the grin fading to a smug smile.
"I'll be waiting there. Don't let me down, Krycek, or..."
A half-veiled threat hung in the air.
"Or what, Mulder?"
The malicious smile he aimed at Mulder wiped the smugness from Mulder's
face. What more could Mulder do to him? He'd already beaten him and fucked
him. What else was left other than shooting him?
Alex watched as Mulder turned and walked away without giving him so much as
a single backward glance. He closed his eyes, wishing the earth would just
swallow him up whole. When he was certain Mulder had gone, he sank down onto
the wet ground, dropping his head onto his drawn up knees and let his silent
tears mingle with the soft rain.
As the door to his hotel room closed behind him, Mulder slumped against it,
eyes squeezed tightly shut. He could still feel the warm, wet flesh beneath
his hands, could still see the curve of that beautiful ass, his shaft
sinking into the incredible tightness and heat. He felt his body react to
the images, his blood rushing down to his groin, filling his aching flesh.
His fingers tingled where he had traced along the silken skin, had felt the
strong muscles sliding over hard bone.
Mulder groaned, sinking down onto the floor, back still pressed hard against
the door.
His erection wilted as he recalled the pain that came into those beautiful
green eyes, hearing again the bitterness and regret in the soft voice. It
wasn't the first time he had loathed himself, but this time he felt waves of
self-hatred flood over him. He hated himself for the way he had treated
Alex, but it had been necessary. He had witnessed the softening in those
eyes, had sensed the love in that gaze but he could not afford to give into
it. He could not afford to let Alex know that he returned that love in full
measure. Better to squash it now while there was still a chance that they
could both walk away.
Who're you trying to kid, Mulder?
He had taken enough psychology courses to understand the reasons for his
aggression towards Alex, but knowing the cause did not neccesarily make it
easier to bear. What he felt for Alex was no adolescent crush that would
cause a few weeks of heartache before being brushed aside by a new love.
Alex was far more than just a pretty face, a beautiful body. His heart
slumped hard in his chest as he dwelled on the only physical imperfection;
the missing left arm, his own guilt rising for the part he had played in
bringing about that loss. He could not deny the shallowness, that it was
that perfect figure that had first attracted him to the man. He had always
loved watching Alex, savouring the gracefulness, the sway of the lean hips
as those long legs carried him swiftly to wherever he wanted to go. However,
there was also the quicksilver mind, the sharp intellect cleverly concealed
that had revealed itself piece by piece. Alex was a powerful combination of
beauty and brains, a perfect match to him in every way except one. They were
not necessarily working to the same agenda and, sooner or later, they would
clash. Mulder was not certain if he could survive that future betrayal
should he let Alex into his heart and into his bed now.
After several minutes he pushed himself back onto his feet and started to
make preparations for the night to come.
Alex sighed as the heat of the shower took the chill from his flesh and
washed away the remaining evidence of Mulder's passion. He picked up the bar
of soap, rubbing it all over his flesh, and then letting it stroke along the
crevice between his asscheeks. The bar slipped from his grasp and he cursed
softly, kicking it aside so he did not, accidentally, step on it later. He
ran his hand over his soap-slicked body, feeling his nipples tighten in
response to the stimulation, momentarily wishing it was Mulder's hand upon
him.
He stroked along his flank, his nerve endings recalling the pressure of a
strong hand clamped over his hip, drawing him back against the firm body,
impaling him on the engorged shaft.
Whore.
He berated himself, cursing his own memory as he relived the coldness in the
smug face after Mulder had taken his pleasure, and yet he was so certain he
had seen more in those eyes than satiated lust.
The thoughts went turning round and round in his brain and he tried to drown
them by tipping his face into the cascading flow from the shower. He felt
the change in temperature and swiftly shut off the shower before the rapidly
cooling water negated the comfort he had taken in its former heat.
Alex wrapped himself in a thick bath sheet and stepped out. He wiped the
steam from the mirror over the sink and stared hard into his eyes, wanting
to gaze upon the fool who had believed, if only for a moment, that Mulder
could love him. He resisted the urge to smash the mirror and stepped out of
the bathroom, quickly drying off and dressing in a clean set of dark jeans
and T-shirt, then pulled on his boots. The clock on the bedside cabinet told
him he had plenty of time to grab a decent meal—perhaps his last meal if
things did not go according to plan.
With a wry, self-mocking grin, he shrugged into his leather jacket and
headed out of the door.
When two-thirty came and went, Mulder felt his temper start to rise,
believing he had been stood up, but then there was a movement in a deep
patch of shadow. Alex stepped out, gave him a predatory grin, then set off
over the damp, muddy fields towards the distant oil refinery.
Their progress was far slower than either anticipated, the thick,
waterlogged marsh threatening to suck them under as they fought their way
towards the refinery. By the time they reached the high, electrified fence,
they were cold, wet and dirty, their hands and knees coated in mud from the
numerous falls. Krycek dropped to his knees at the base of the fence,
drawing a rucksack off his shoulders and dumping it onto the ground beside
him. As he started to rummage through the interior, Mulder began to mumble
angrily, wishing he had believed Krycek when he said he had already been
here. If he had done so then he would not be crouched down here in the
freezing cold mud, instead he would be sitting in front of a real log fire,
blazing in the hearth, reading his future within the dancing flames, forming
tales from the eerie shadows that flickered about the dimly lit room. He
would have a hot toddy beside him, laced with fine whiskey, and just the
distant chime of the grandfather clock that stood in the hallway to remind
him of the lateness of the hour.
Mulder shook off the warm image, realising the one thing that was missing
from that welcoming image was the presence of a one-armed man snuggled into
his side, the dark hair tickling under his chin as Alex purred like a warm,
contented cat.
He turned his attention back to the nimble fingers that were readying a
small device trailing wires that would de-electrify a part of the fence so
they could slip through. Questions formed in his mind, the sort of questions
he ought to have asked earlier but his mind and body had been otherwise
engaged at the time. Mulder gave himself a smile of self-derision before
whispering those questions.
"How did they get the vaccine?"
Krycek looked back over his shoulder, his face cast in shadow from the light
emanating from the distant refinery. But was that guilt Mulder had read
before the shadows consumed his features? The reply was a low whisper, lower
than truly necessary.
"I gave it to them."
"You? Why?"
"The Russians wouldn't share, but they didn't have the expertise to carry on
the research. They were going round in circles."
"When?"
"The same day the rebel leader was captured, the same day I..."
Mulder felt his cheek tingle, reliving the feel of those soft lips pressed
momentarily against him. That was the day he realised they both desired each
other. How long ago had that been? Mulder tried to fool himself, pretending
it was not printed indelibly onto his mind, but he knew how long ago it was.
He knew it down to the minute. he shoved aside the memory, ignoring the
warmth that flooded through to his groin.
"The Tunguskan oliens are different from the one that took you over. Why?"
"Mulder. This isn't the time or the place for..." Krycek gave an exagerrated
sigh, realising that he would waste even more time trying to stop this
discussion. "The Tunguskan oiliens are like... like seed. Sperm. Just enough
intelligence to deliver and control the host body to allow for gestation
of... of..."
"A Gray?"
"Yeah."
"And the Piper Maru Oilien?"
"A survival trick; decomposing themselves down into base matter, using oil
as a medium for movement until a suitable host becomes available for
re-gestation back into Gray form."
Mulder felt a ripple of shock flow through him, realising how close he may
have come to losing this man before he had even realised how much he had
come to love him.
"Why didn't it use you for that?"
"I don't know. Perhaps it was a time factor. It needed to reach the safety
of its ship but it couldn't get in there while in human form. Don't ask me
why because I don't know. Maybe the door is keyed only to Gray genetics."
"Plausible. The ship would have been sealed against possible infiltration by
humans. The Colonists couldn't afford to allow any human access to a
fully-operational craft. Being fifty years out of the picture it couldn't
know that we'd already gotten control of one or more ships."
Mulder recalled the testing going on at one of the secret airforce bases,
not that he had found enough evidence that he could submit as substantiated
proof of the existence of EBEs.
"Mulder. I'm cold and tired. Are we gonna do this, or are we gonna play
twenty questions until a guard wanders around the perimeter and spots us?"
Mulder nodded his head and watched as Krycek placed the wires to cordon of a
section of the fence. He drew a pair of wirecutters from the rucksack and
handed them to Mulder, arching one eyebrow as if he expected a protest.
Mulder grinned, realising this was Krycek's way of giving in to his handicap
while retaining an air of independence. He knew Alex would not be able to
use the wirecutters as efficiently with one hand as Mulder could using two.
It took several minutes but, eventually, Mulder had cut a whole large enough
for them both to squeeze through. This time it was Alex who went under the
wire first, and it was Mulder who was left behind with a moment of
hesitation and doubt filling him before he acknowledged to himself that he
was here because he did not want Alex to go in alone. Just because he could
not afford to love him, it did not mean that he wanted him dead. Alex needed
someone to guard his back while they searched for samples of the
newly-improved vaccine.
They raced quickly over the exposed ground, keeping low to avoid being
caught on the monitors, ending pressed up against the wall of a building,
and against each other, shoulder to shoulder.
"If this is a Consortium stronghold then why the lack of tight security?"
"Mulder, I doubt most of the refinery staff are even aware of half of what's
going on here. Keep the visible security too tight and everyone will get
suspicious. The security will be tight enough where it's really needed."
Cautiously, they made there way inside, flattening against the walls every
so often to avoid being seen by the shift workers going about their
legitimate business. His respect for Krycek went up yet another notch when
he realised Alex knew exactly where he was headed. They came to a metal
door, the words 'authorised personnel only' written across in scarlet
letters. Krycek shifted the rucksack on to the floor and pulled out a small
electronic gadget. He connected it up to the swipe card lock and waited
silently, then he drew a card from his pocket and swiped it through the
machine. Mulder watched as the red light dimmed, another beside it flashing
green. The door gave a loud click that echoed along the otherwise silent
corridor. Pushing it open quickly, Alex stepped inside, drawing Mulder in
with him. The door closed behind them automatically.
Mulder frowned. There was nothing to see in this room. It was just a staff
room with a small kitchen area set off to one side and a lounge on the
other.
"Don't let it fool you, Mulder."
Alex walked across the room to the far corner where a metal bookcase held a
selection of scientific periodicals and books, seemingly left available for
those authorised staff to peruse during their rest breaks. His fingers
groped along the back edge until he found the hidden button and Mulder
grinned as the bookcase slid aside to reveal the entrance to a short
corridor.
At the end of the corridor was another door and Mulder was not surprised to
realise this was an elevator. What better way to hide secret laboratories
than to build them beneath the complex. Above ground, people would start to
wonder what was housed in those restricted areas. Beneath the ground, no one
needed to know they even existed, except for the Consortium scientists and
their controllers.
There were only two buttons inside the elevator; an up arrow and a
highlighted down arrow. Alex pressed the down arrow, staring straight ahead
as the door slid closed. Mulder could see Alex's indistinct reflection in
the unpolished steel, the tension in the air becoming thick and
uncomfortable as Alex avoided looking at him.
Wish I could tell you how much I want you, and how much I love you, Alex.
Wish I could explain why I have to pretend I don't.
The elevator stopped suddenly, the door sliding back swiftly and it was only
then that Mulder noticed the gun in Krycek's hand, the silencer lengthening
the barrel. Krycek saw Mulder's stare and gave him a reassuring nod before
they stepped out of the elevator into a longer corridor. They moved silently
along, and Mulder could see Krycek frowning, as if he was internally
counting off the number of doors. He stopped and faced one, his green eyes
flicking towards Mulder. Mulder took the offered weapon from Krycek's hand
and stood guard while Alex manipulated the electronic lock as before. The
door slid open silently, without an audible click. Their eyes met for a
moment and they stepped inside to find a large room filled with metal beds
lined up in a dozen rows locked into place. Each bed had metal wrist and
ankle clamps, and a head brace to prevent any movement. Instinctively,
Mulder glanced up and saw the small pipes placed above the head of each
metal bed.
His memory reached back to Tunguska, to the chicken wire that held him in
place as, from above, black oil poured from the pipe above to land on his
face. He remembered the feel of the oil seeming to come alive upon him, the
black worms crawling over his face, sliding between his closely pressed
lips, up his nostrils. He remembered screaming as the creatures crawled into
his brain, and then nothing until he awoke to find himself back in his
prison cell, alone.
"You left me there."
Krycek didn't bother to pretend he misunderstood Mulder's words.
"I had a plan for getting us both out of there... but it took time. I had to
prove my connection with the Russian Consortium, convince them I was there
for a legitimate reason. Keeping tabs on you."
"You knew what was there all along. You knew what would happen if they
caught us..."
"Would it have stopped you if I had said something? My only mistake was
following you under the wire when I should have got the hell out of there.
It cost me my arm, or had you forgotten that?"
"And what did it cost me?"
Krycek sneered, his voice full of barely controlled anger and bitterness.
"It cost you nothing but a few days of your life, and it gained you immunity
from Oilien infection. Here."
Alex, who had continued walking across the laboratory with Mulder following
only a few feet behind, pointed to a glass-fronted cabinet. It took only
moments for him to jimmy the lock and swing open one door. Alex grabbed
several vials, stuffing them into his pocket then moving the remaining vials
about to disguise the hole he had created.
"Anything else you need?"
"Oilien material?"
"No way, Mulder. I'm not touching that stuff. You want it, you get it."
"Not immune, Krycek?"
"They experimented on me too, Mulder. You weren't the only one under the
chicken wire."
They took Mulder aback. He had always assumed that Krycek had managed to
inveigle his way out of the experiments, never once dwelling on the
possibility that Krycek might have suffered the same fate as himself.
"I didn't know..."
"Yeah, well, Mulder. There's a lot you don't know..."
"What's going on in here? Who are you?"
Krycek's head snapped up, and they turned to face the stranger who had
happened upon them unexpectedly. Mulder's mind took in the details, the
white coat that denoted this man as a scientist rather than a guard. He took
a step towards the man, raising one hand placatingly, and saw him back away
towards the corridor. Mulder knew, instinctively, that there was no way to
reach the man before he gave the alarm. The phut noise sounding beside him
seemed to coincide with the third eye now adorning the centre of the man's
forehead, and Mulder could only stare, wide-eyed, as the unfortunate
scientist crumpled to the floor. He turned to Krycek, stunned horror filling
his mind and, before the face hardened into an impassive mask, the eyes
becoming as cold as green chipped glass, Mulder thought he saw regret.
"Let's get out of here before we end up on one of these tables."
Mulder nodded, swallowing all the angry words that had leapt into his head,
almost ashamed that he had been about to launch an invective against his
seemingly trigger-happy partner in crime. Alex had done the right thing. He
had neutralised the threat in the only way possible to them, by eliminating
it. Now it was time to take what they had and get out before the next person
who spotted them managed to sound the alarm.
With Krycek's help, Mulder dragged the body into the shadows, hoping he
would remain unseen until they had managed to get far away from here. They
stepped back into the corridor and raced back towards the only way out; the
elevator.
Alex was the first to break the silence.
"We can't go out the same way we came in. Too risky trying to cross those
fields again. If we get caught out in the open... we're far worse than
dead... we become experiments."
Mulder could only nod in agreement, his mind flicking through every details
of this place that he could remember, trying to find a way out that would
keep the risks down to a minimum.
"There was a series of lockers in that anteroom. We check them for a change
of clothes, disguise ourselves, blend in. Then we walk out the front door,
take a car from the staff parking lot—and get the hell outta Dodge."
It seemed such a simple plan but Alex knew so much could go wrong. To start
with, they only found one pair of overalls inside the lockers, but Krycek
made sure Mulder was the one to wear it. Despite his earlier regrets for
what they had done at the old ruins, he could not stop himself from loving
Mulder. Mulder's safety had always been more important than his own.
Ensuring Mulder's safety was the only reason why he had been wandering
through those Tunguskan woods rather than heading straight back towards the
gulag guards. So typical that Mulder should be the one to get out of there
intact, and Alex wished that his own guardian angel had been as vigilant.
They moved along the corridors with Alex keeping in the shadows for the most
part, allowing Mulder to deal with any obstacles that were thrown into their
path. Once out in the parking lot, Alex opened the nearest car in seconds
and threw himself into the driver's seat, leaning over to unlock the
passenger door. He ripped the casing from the steering column and grabbed a
handful of wires, cursing his lack of two hands as he joined two stripped
wires. In the past, when he had two hands, this simple task would have taken
him only a few seconds to accomplish. Now, he lost valuable time trying to
hold each wire in place. He sighed as he was rewarded with the sound of the
engine turning and taking hold. He shoved the car into gear and set off
quickly, holding back on the urge to floor the gas pedal as it would only
draw unnecessary attention to themselves. He breathed a sigh of relief as
they cleared the guard house at the perimeter without incident and turned
off towards the industrial estate where they had left their own rentals.
"Damn."
He met Mulder's eyes, seeing the confusion clear at the sound of a
helicopter passing close overhead. Alex resisted the urge to go faster until
he knew for certain that they were after them. That was confirmed moments
later as the helicopter came alongside, a bright, white spotlight
pinpointing the car. Alex turned off all exterior lights and then floored
the gas pedal even though he knew there was no way to outrun the helicopter,
deciding it would be far better to lose his deposit on the rental than end
up as a guinea pig for a Consortium experiment. He took a left onto the dual
carriageway leading off the island, hoping the avenue of trees would force
the helicopter to back off. As he approached the large roundabout near the
edge of the island, Alex saw the bright headlights of cars moving on the
wrong side of the carriageway—on his side of the carriageway—trying to
head him off. He took another left, taking the bypass onto the alternative
route off the island, his hopes of avoiding capture growing slimmer with
every moment.
"I'm gonna slow down fast. Get ready to jump."
"No."
Alex risked taking his eyes off the road to glare at Mulder.
"The vials are in my pocket. Take them and go."
"No."
"Mulder. I haven't time for games or argument..."
"I'm not leaving you this time."
Shock raced through Alex and he swallowed hard, hearing everything he ever
wanted from Mulder in the hoarse whisper. He knew, without needing to turn,
that the haunted look of hopeless love, that he thought he had once glimpsed
in those beautiful eyes, had returned in full force. He wanted to cry. He
had waited so long to hear that voice soft with love rather than hard with
rage, had dreamed of being loved by Mulder—and now it had happened. He
felt as if he was playing a lead role in a Shakespearean tragedy, the
threads of happiness being dangled before his eyes moments before they would
be cruelly snatched away forever.
"Then we both die..."
"Or live."
Mulder reached across and tugged Alex's seat belt into place, forcing Alex
to let go of the steeering wheel for a moment and then he pulled on his own
seatbelt, tightening it securely. Alex was confused, wondering at this
sudden urge for in-car safety but quickly decided Mulder wanted to ensure he
could not somehow stop the car and throw him out. He was totally unprepared
for Mulder's next action. Time seemed to stand still as he felt the warm
lips on his cheek. He turned his head slightly and felt the lips graze
across his own and then, while his senses were reeling, Mulder grabbed at
the wheel, pulling it down hard, sending them hurtling over the side of the
road and down the deep embankment. Alex could feel every shrub, every lump
in the ground as they flew down the incline. The airbag exploded into his
face as they came to a sudden halt, the steering column collapsing away from
him.
The engine had cut out leaving them in deathly silence until the roar of the
helicopter passing some distance away filled the air. Beside him, Mulder
groaned, holding ribs that had probably been bruised by the sudden
resistance of the inertia reel seat belts.
"Let's get moving... before they realise we've left the road and come
searching for us."
Alex ripped out the fuse panel to ensure no interior lights came on when
they opened the doors and they clambered out. He groaned, feeling a dull,
unpleasant ache throughout his whole body; unwelcome evidence of cold, wet
and abused flesh. He glanced around, wary that they needed to start moving
right away.
"Which way?"
"We need to cross to the other side of this road. If we keep going we should
come to the houses on the edge of the town."
"Steal another car, Mulder?"
Mulder grinned, hearing the teasing in the soft voice.
"If necessary."
They climbed up the steep embankment, all senses stretching out for any sign
of their pursuit, then they raced across the road and dived down the other
side. The ground was a little less waterlogged but it was still hard going.
However, they pressed on as hard and fast as they could, eager to put as
much distance between themselves and the car as quickly as possible.
"Shit."
Alex heard Mulder's exclamation and realised, seconds later, what had caused
it as he sank to his knees in freezing cold water. They carried on
relentless, wading through the water, aware of it slowly creeping up their
bodies to mid-thigh and praying it did not get any deeper.
Alex broked the silence, his words interspersed with harsh breathing.
"There's a private... airstrip about... thirty miles from here. I've got a
light plane... primed and waiting to take off. It's got room for one more."
"Where's it headed?"
"France."
"Then I'm glad I've got my passport and wallet on me."
A car was waiting for them when they arrived on the French side of the
English Channel. Alex pulled a holdall from the trunk and went into the
restroom. He emerged a short time later in clean clothing with his hair
damp, and traces of dirt scrubbed from his face.
"There's another set of clothes in the bag. Jeans ought to fit you."
Mulder nodded, grabbed the holdall and went into the restroom. He gazed at
his face in the mirror, saw the lines of fatigue and the smears of mud but
these could not disguise the raw emotion staring back at him through his
tired eyes. He rubbed a hand across his stubbled cheek then filled the bowl
with warm water. Minutes later he had cleaned his face and had stripped out
of the soaking, grimy clothes, finding Krycek's clothes were a surprisingly
good fit.
When he returned to the car he found Alex deep in discussion with the pilot,
passing the man a small packet that probably contained payment, and Mulder
was impressed by Alex's fluency in French. He recalled the Russian that Alex
had also used with relative ease.
Not bi-lingual then. Multi-lingual. Perhaps you should have joined the
diplomatic service as a translator, Alex.
Mulder grinned at that thought, then he clambered behind the wheel of the
Renault, watching the sun rise over the landing strip, the darkness pushed
aside by a grey curtain. He caught movement behind through the rearview
mirror and watched as Alex came across towards the car, his natural grace
still apparent but subdued by the heavier footfall of exhaustion. Mulder was
surprised when he gained no argument from Alex, catching just a moment of
hesitation in the approaching figure, as if Alex had not expected to find
him waiting. Mulder looked across as his companion slumped into the
passenger seat, clearly seeing the fatigue written across the beautiful
face. Crossing the shallow lake had been physically debilitating, the
freezing water sapping the remaining strength from his legs, but how much
worse could it have been it he had only one arm for balance? He spoke softly
to the clearly exhausted man.
"Where to now, Alex?"
He watched as Alex squeezed his tired eyes shut for a moment before opening
them to stare out through the windscreen, finding himself mesmerised by the
long dark lashes that framed the stormy-green eyes.
"Straight on until you hit the main highway then head south. About forty
miles down that road is a small village with a motel. We'll stop there.
Figure out what to do next."
Mulder started the engine and set the car moving.
As the French countryside passed quickly by, his thoughts returned to the
drama of their escape from the Consortium. They had made it across the
fields, across the marsh, to the outskirts of the town, having to throw
themselves down into the mud on several occasions as the searching
helicopter passed overhead. Alex had broken into another car and they had
joined the increasing number of vehicles that were heading out of the town.
The rest of the journey had been almost an anticlimax. They had made good
speed to the private airstrip, had found the plane waiting for them and it
had taken off within minutes of them stepping onboard. The flight over Kent
and then across the English Channel had been a little rough but had gone
without a hitch, with not even the slightest delay from the weather front
that had been moving in fast. Nonetheless, it had been an uncomfortable
trip, his sodden jeans clinging coldly to his legs.
At least he felt warm now, although still grimy beneath the dry clothes. It
seemed strange and yet erotic knowing he was dressed in Alex's clothes, even
down to socks and boxers. Mulder drew his thoughts away from the eroticism,
and concentrated on the road ahead, aware that he was too tired to let his
attention divert.
Just under an hour later, Alex nudged Mulder's arm and pointed to a sign for
the next exit. Mulder followed the monosyllabic instructions and finally
came to a halt in the parking lot of a small motel. He sat in the lobby
watching Alex as arrangements were made with the concierge, staring at the
tall, lean figure. The dark jeans were a snug fit, taut across the firm
asscheeks and muscular thighs. Mulder's memory flashed back to the old
ruined castle, to the sight of those bare asscheeks and thighs.
"You ready?"
He snapped out of the dreamlike remembrance, pushed himself back to his feet
and followed Alex up a flight of stairs then along a corridor to the far
end. The room was clean and bright, decorated in a soft beige and green with
complimenting curtains that billowed as they were caught by the fresh breeze
gusting through an opened window. Two double size beds took up most of the
space, the quaint rustic patterns on the bedspreads adding to the homely
effect.
Alex locked the door behind him, dropped the holdall onto the bed furthest
from the door and then pulled the window closed. He clicked the heating up a
few notches.
"Gonna grab a shower."
Mulder waited a few minutes until he could hear a change in the sound of the
shower that told him Alex had stepped beneath the cascading water. He
finished taking off his clothes and entered the unlocked bathroom, pulling
aside the screen and stepping up behind a surprised Alex.
"Don't wanna risk you using up all the hot water, Krycek."
"Mulder, don't."
"Don't what? Don't touch you like this?" Mulder's hands slid down Alex's
sides, from rib to thigh, gently pulling Alex back against him. "Don't kiss
you like this?" He nuzzled beneath the dark strands, mouth latching onto the
creamy throat, biting and sucking the warm, wet flesh, ignoring the water
that ran in rivulets down his own face.
"Mulder. Please."
The soft begging almost stopped Mulder in his tracks, but he knew that what
he was doing was right, for both of them. He wanted to show Alex that his
callous treatment of him at the old ruins would never be repeated. The hurt
he had seen in those unguarded eyes had cut him to the quick even though it
had seemed the right thing to do at the time. The heart-stopping fear of
capture had cast aside all those reasons for staying away from Alex. He had
imagined never seeing Alex again, or worse still, of spending the rest of
his life catching only glimpses of his lover writhing in torment and pain,
hearing only his cries of agony rather than the longed-for, soft moans of
pleasure.
Alex turned in his arms, shoving Mulder back, the green eyes glaring in a
mixture of anger, desire and confusion.
"I'm not your fuck-toy."
"No, you're not. Not now, and not then either."
The anger drained away, replaced by a look of shocked disbelief.
"Is that some sort of apology, Mulder?"
Mulder gave Alex a wry grin, realising that he was, indeed, apologising for
his coldness at the ruins.
"Yeah, I guess so." He pushed his face back into the warm spray, then drew
back. "Let's finish up here before the hot water runs out. Don't
particularly want a cold shower. I like the way I'm feeling." Mulder gasped
as a warm, wet hand wrapped itself around his engorged shaft. "And it's
getting better every second."
Pleasure bordered on pain as Alex tightened his grip just a fraction more,
forcing Mulder to meet eyes that had hardened to chips of green ice. He
poured every ounce of sincerity into his own gaze, as was rewarded as a thaw
set in, the fingers easing their stranglehold on his sensitive flesh.
"Let me show you how sorry I am."
Mulder reached out and drew Alex into his arms, mouth latching onto the
creamy flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder. He sucked hard, teeth
grazing the skin, raising a vivid red mark of possession. His tongue reached
out to lick at the droplets of water running down the muscular chest,
following the trail of a single bead of water as it poised on the tip of one
nipple before toppling to the shower floor. He latched onto that nipple,
capturing the next droplet, willing to endure the loss of those fingers from
his aching flesh as he continued down the beautiful body until he was on his
knees, tongue tracing the vein of the proud shaft from base to head. Fingers
scrabbled through his hair, grasping futilely at the short, wet spikes, and
trying to force Mulder closer.
Mulder flicked his gaze upwards, another part of his own wounded soul
healing as he saw the enraptured expression, feeling the heat from the
lust-darkened eyes igniting the fire within his own body. His soap-covered
fingers slipped inside the tight channel, thrusting gently, rubbing over
that special gland deep inside. His lips closed around the sensitive head,
mouth and fingers slowly bringing Alex to the brink of existence.
There were a dozen reasons why this was wrong, but a billion more reasons
why being with Alex was so right. Every cell in his body seemed to be
calling to this lover, every neuron firing sensation upon sensation through
him until he had never felt so alive. The image of Alex as he slipped over
the edge was forever burned into Mulder's mind, the cry of passion
satisfied, although muffled against the cascading water, was the sweetest
sound Mulder had ever heard.
Mulder gained his feet quickly, supporting his sagging lover, leading him
from the shower cubicle just as the water lost all its heat. He ignored the
iciness from the few droplets that reached his skin as he gently pushed Alex
to the floor. He squirted a generous amount of complimentary body lotion
into the palm of his hand then smoothed it over the length of his shaft. As
he pressed forward into the beautiful, willing body, Mulder's mind flew back
to that first encounter, seeing again the vision of his engorged shaft
disappearing inside the firm ass. He thrust quickly, unable to hold back as
his senses overloaded.
His lay his cheek upon the damp back, feeling the heat from Alex's body ease
some of the chills from his own rapidly cooling flesh. He turned his head
slightly, kissing the soft skin, then drew back, his now-flaccid shaft
slipping from Alex's body. Alex remained unmoving for a moment, and then
Mulder noticed the fine trembling, saw goosebumps rise and realised they
were both getting chilled.
Mulder stood up, gently cleaning his lover before offering a hand. He
recognised the coolness in the tired, green eyes, his confusion fading as he
recalled his cruel actions at the old castle ruins, how he had pretended
Alex had been good for nothing but a quick fuck.
This time it would be different. This time he had no intention of fighting
the feelings he held inside for Alex. This time he wanted Alex to know he
was loved. He held out his hand and smiled.
"Let's go to bed, Alex."
Some of the coolness faded, Alex's face taking on a wary look in its stead,
as if unsure whether this was still a cruel game Mulder was playing. He took
a large bathsheet from the rack then, with a little difficulty, wrapped it
around himself. Mulder sighed gently and grabbed the second bath sheet,
wrapping it around his waist, and then he followed the similarly wrapped
Alex back into the bedroom. He watched appreciatively as Alex dried himself,
rubbing the towel along the length of his long legs, amazed at how graceful
Alex could be, even with just the one arm.
Mulder noticed that Alex made no attempt to catch the droplets running
between his shoulder blades, and then realised how many of the simple things
in life he took for granted. He drew his own towel from around his waist and
smoothed it over the damp skin, ignoring the sudden tension, keeping his
strokes firm yet gentle until Alex began to relax beneath his touch. He did
not follow when Alex took a step away from him, a gruff word of thanks
floating over one shoulder. Alex padded back into the bathroom returning
moments later without his towel.
"We need to talk, Alex."
Alex stared hard at Mulder, eyes slightly narrowed, those beautifully formed
lips pursed almost petulantly.
"To be honest, Mulder. All I want to do right now is crawl into bed and go
to sleep."
Mulder masked his disappointment with a soft grin as Alex slid between the
sheets on his chosen bed, facing away from him, snuggling down into the soft
pillow and drawing the covers up high until only the damp strands of
mahogany hair were visible.
With a mischievous grin, Mulder finished drying himself then clambered into
bed behind Alex, grinning at the muffled protest.
"There are two beds in this room, Mulder."
"But only one of them contains you."
"I prefer 'one of them contains only me'."
"Semantics. Prefer my wording." Mulder wrapped his arms around the lean
figure and planted a soft kiss on the back of Alex's head. "Go to sleep."
Mulder's grin widened, unable to catch the muffled retort but willing to bet
that it was something derogatory. However, it was obvious that Alex was too
tired to make an issue of it and, soon after, he heard Alex's breathing
deepen as his lover drifted off to sleep.
For Mulder, sleep was as elusive as ever, his mind turning in circles as he
considered the past day and the impact it had on him. There was so much they
needed to talk about but he was prepared to wait. As his arms tightened
around his new lover, Mulder realised that nothing had quite turned out the
way he had expected and yet, with the warm weight of Alex in his arms, he
found he no longer held any regrets for what had transpired between them in
the old ruins.
These Castle Ruins
by Tarlan
The sky above was filled with menacing dark grey clouds that warned of
impending rain and, beneath his feet, Alex could feel the sodden earth,
proof enough that this would not be the first raincloud to burst over the
town this day. He turned his collar up to protect himself against the chill
in the breeze that blustered over the open ground. Ahead he could see the
ruined tower of Hadleigh Castle and he sighed, realising it would give him
shelter from the cold wind but, probably, not from the rain should it fall.
