On the last night of the conference on serial killers, Assistant Director
Walter Skinner received a call that Alex Krycek was incarcerated under a
false name in the local jail. The speaker had an insinuating way of speaking
and a husky voice as if he were a chain smoker.
Mr. Skinner knew who the informant was of course, but he pretended to be
oblivious. He thanked the man for his tip and lay down on his bed to think
it over. He was lying flat on his back, with his ankles crossed, his arms
behind his neck, his shirt buttons straining across his pectorals when
Mulder pounced.
Mulder. What can you say about Mulder? Caramel and cream, he's a
caramel-flavored man with laughing hazel eyes when he's happy and bleak
grayish ones when he's angry or sad. His hair is a million shades of glossy
brown. His skin is like fresh cream, not the shit that comes out of cans,
but rich, natural cream with its faintly golden overtones. Mulder melts in
your mouth like butter.
The whole wondrous man pounced on Walter Skinner and said in a voice
glinting with humor, "Let's make love."
"We could do that or we could go bust Alex Krycek's ass. He's in jail for
running illegal fireworks."
"What?" Mulder asked, frowning. He said, "All the charges were dropped, you
know. How are we going to hold him?"
"I don't know if we can hold him, but we can question him. I know I have
some questions," Walter told him.
"Yeah, me too," Mulder agreed. "Let's go."
The jail took up half a city block, looming over the courthouse. It was
across the street from an old building that housed the main branch library.
The jail and the library said something about local values. The jail was
much bigger and newer.
The street facing the building was lined with bail bondsmen. Walter parked
the rental car there.
The jail was the only part of the complex open at this late hour. Just as
they arrived at the front desk, Krycek came swaggering out, wearing tight
black denim jeans, a black sleeveless tee shirt, and Doc Martins. A baseball
cap with a firecracker beaded onto it was shoved on top of his long hair.
Waiting until Krycek went out the door, Walter and Mulder smoothly flanked
him.
"Shit, how the hell did you find me?" Krycek asked. His green eyes searching
for an escape.
Grinning evilly, Mulder intoned, "We have our ways."
"You can't hold me. All the charges you made were dropped for lack of
evidence," said Krycek. He smirked back at Mulder.
"You think so?" Walter questioned. "It appears that the smoking man is not
pleased with you. What did you do? Betray him too or maybe you just used
your teeth too much when you blew him. That was always a major fault you
had."
"You didn't used to complain. Not Mulder either," Alex said, tossing his
head. "So what? Smoking-man got you by the ball these days? Hey, I don't
work for him anymore. I suppose he has to get someone to do his bidding. How
about you, Walter, you give him head?"
An alley presented itself and Walter pulled the bastard into it, slamming
him against the wall. He hit him three times in the belly and held him up as
Krycek turned a rich purple color. Tears of pain ran down the sharp cheeks.
Walter kept him on his feet, watching the show with a gloating expression.
A few moments later as some uniformed police officers walked by, Mulder
slipped an arm around the still wobbly Krycek and said, "Here now, Alex, let
me give you a hand."
One of the beefy cops stopped and asked, "What's the deal?"
"My boyfriend here has asthma, but it's okay. I'm going to take him home and
give him mouth to mouth," Mulder simpered.
"God, they're everywhere," the younger cop remarked.
His buddy just rolled his eyes and told him, "Just leave it, Lewis. He's
trying to piss you off."
Fondling one of Alex's round ass cheeks as he supported him, Mulder happily
walked Krycek down the hill to the front of the building where they had
parked the car.
Walter took the wheel as Mulder pushed Krycek into the back seat. Their
prisoner immediately huddled against the door, face turned away from them.
"I'm going to search you now," Mulder droned, following suit.
"You know I just got out of jail. What- you think I was carrying and they
handed it to me and said have a nice day?" Alex muttered.
"Maybe," Mulder sang out as he inserted his hand in the skin-tight pockets
of the jeans.
"Quit fucking feeling me up!" Alex snapped.
"Oh, doesn't he like that anymore? Did our bad boy grow another cherry?"
Mulder riffed.
"You bastard," Krycek muttered.
"Is that something you know for sure about, Alex? Am I a bastard?" Mulder
asked. He extricated Krycek's wallet. Snapping a handcuff on Krycek's wrist,
Mulder fastened him to his own arm.
"Jack M'Naghten? What you are trying for a plea in advance?" Mulder asked,
with a snort, reading from the driver's license. "June 22nd listed as a
birthday. You listed that same one in your FBI file. That your real
birthday, Alex?"
"What's it to you?" Alex replied. "Want to give me a birthday spanking? You
always liked spanking me, didn't you?"
"Might be fun," Mulder agreed. "You know, Walter and I can do anything we
like to you- rape you, kill you, paint you blue and dump you downtown."
Krycek had the grace to look frightened. Mulder unbuckled his seat belt,
straddled the man's lap, and knocked off the cap. Grasping a handful of
hair, he assaulted the man's lips. The grunt of fright and pain yielded to a
moan and the soft lips opened to him. Mulder raised Alex's tee shirt and
caressed the firm belly, captured a nipple to play with it, rolling its pink
crinkled bud until it stiffly peaked. He squeezed hard enough to make Krycek
whimper.
"I don't want this, Mulder, just leave me alone. I know you. You aren't a
rapist," Krycek growled.
"But it wouldn't be rape if you said yes," Mulder argued.
A shuddering gasp and Alex rasped, "I know what you're doing. You're playing
with me. I let you...fuck me and then you get off calling me a whore. I'm
not going to let you hurt me that way."
"I didn't know you could be hurt that way. Are you in love with me?" Mulder
asked. The answer unexpectedly shone from Krycek's eyes.
What else could make the boy behave this way?
Abruptly, he rolled off Alex and slumped back in his seat. He licked his
lips and said, "You taste like gun powder, Krycek. Whose father have you
been shooting now?"
"I didn't shoot your father. The gunpowder is fire works," Alex explained.
"Didn't you check to see what I was in for? The local tribe makes a good
amount of money selling fireworks that are illegal off the reservation.
State prohibits anything bigger than a sparkler. They can't stop the Indians
on reservation, but they bust the shipments when they can. I went up to the
Swinomish reservation and picked up a load for a warehouse that is parked on
my boss's trust land...that's like a piece of reservation in the middle of
regular titled property. Only, the idiot that was the other driver ran a
light just as we got to Tacoma. Police decided to check what we were hauling
and, busted. Shit..."
"What in hell is a trained assassin doing penny ante work like that?" Mulder
asked.
"God, Mulder, I'm not a trained assassin. Sorry to disappoint you. I was
supposed to keep an eye on you just like Scully. I belonged to one of the
old men who run the organization that is always messing with your head. He
put me into play, planted me in the academy, and intended me to be a check
and balance to you. Only Smoking Man decided he knew better. He freaked and
decided you had to be controlled. Fucking idiot! I told him if he messed
with Scully that it would just make you crazier. I could have done the job
if he just left me alone. We would have been so busy investigating cases and
screwing that you wouldn't have the time to mess with anything really
dangerous," Krycek informed him.
"You slimy creep," Mulder snapped. "What about Walter? Was that a plan too?"
"No, Walter just happened. I wasn't supposed to sleep with him. I mean, my
boss was going to kill me for that. Until..."
"Until we all tumbled into one bed," Walter said. "Glad to know it wasn't
all deceit."
"You think I could have faked the way that I feel?" Krycek shot back. "You
tell me, Walter, you think that Mulder is that hard to love? I found it all
too easy. Stopping is what's hard..."
"Oh, shit," Mulder moaned, and now he was the one who turned away, moving
arm's length from his prisoner.
Passing an old copper-domed former train station, Walter gave it a glance.
It was now a federal courthouse...if they weren't careful, Mulder and he
could end up on trial there for kidnapping.
Glancing in the mirror at Krycek's sullen face, Walter asked, "You couldn't
get a better job than hauling boom-boom for a bunch of Indians?"
"They were good to me," Krycek explained. "Smoking Man's goons caught up
with me in Oregon. I got away, but they hurt me pretty bad. Lady found me
hiding in her fireworks stand and decided to give me a job. She even was
giving me a birthday party tonight...my first birthday celebration. Some
kid's place called Chuck E. Cheese..."
"Chuck E. Cheese?" Mulder snorted. He looked at his former lover and
partner. "I know you were there at my father's. Tell me about that and I'll
let you go. Tell me."
"You promise? You mean that, Mulder? I can't tell you who, but I can tell
you how and why," Alex said.
"Walter?" Mulder asked.
"It's your show, Mulder," Walter replied. "I had my revenge."
"It's a deal. You give me enough details to make me believe you and I'll let
you go," Mulder bargained.
Their eyes met and each man measured the other before Krycek nodded and
said, "Okay, I'll give it to you, but it won't do you any good. They're
everywhere, Mulder. They got their hooks into politicians, the FBI,
everywhere."
Krycek used his left hand to brush back his hair. He shot another look at
Mulder and then slumped back against the seat. Eyes dulling, Krycek said,
"When Smoking Man blew my cover, I ran. Ran from you. Ran from him. He
tracked me down and taught me a lesson. I'm a fast learner when you apply
the right stimulus...don't ever...don't ever get the Smoking-Man angry with
you."
The shaking voice strengthened. Krycek said, "The ass hole partnered me with
a guy who's a psycho. Graduate of the School of the Americas. He's garbage.
Loves to kill, just loves it. He likes to hurt people too. I had to live
with this viper. You have no idea..."
Shuddering, Alex moved his free hand on his neck, stroking it as if
remembering something too terrible to voice.
"Krycek, snap out of it. What about this man? He was the one who killed my
father?" Mulder questioned.
"Yeah, I was supposed to do it. The man dropped me off and I broke into the
house. Once I saw your dad, I realized I couldn't do it. I had told myself
that I wouldn't care. He was one of the old men. He had the power at one
time just like my boss. His record was just as dirty..."
Mulder's fist slammed into Alex's jaw and he screamed, "Take that back."
Throwing another punch, Mulder grabbed a handful of shirt and realized
Walter had stopped the car. Skinner turned around and said, "Mulder, that
isn't going to accomplish anything."
Krycek gasped, catching his breath, resentful, glittering eyes reproaching
Mulder. He said, "I knew you didn't really care about the truth..."
The whisper that followed was almost to hear, "or me," Krycek sadly added.
"Finish your story, Krycek. You were in the house and thinking about doing
killing Bill Mulder," Walter prompted.
"Yeah, only I started to think that how Mulder would feel and I couldn't do
it," Alex said. "My plan was to warn Mr. Mulder to shut up. I was going to
tell him he was going to get his son killed if he talked. The man came into
the bathroom and saw me in the mirror. I stepped forward and was going to
make my plea. Shot came through the open window. Then the man who held my
leash for Smoking-man pointed his gun at me and laughed. I wasn't ready to
die so I went."
"You expect me to believe that shit?" Mulder sighed.
"Believe what you want," Alex said. "My life is over anyway. I just keep
running because I don't want the Smoking-man to win."
Walter waited for Mulder to process this through. After a long while, Mulder
said, "It could have happened that way. Alex, why didn't you just come to me
for help in the first place?"
"Didn't want to get you killed or worse," Alex replied. "They want you alive
for some reason, even the Smoking-Man, but if they had to lock you up...had
to bury you in one of their private hospitals or prison, they would. You
would rather be dead. I know that."
Mulder's hand turned Alex's face by his chin to face him. "Tell me one more
time. Did you kill my father? Is the story you told me true?"
"I swear it, Mulder, on the only good thing that was ever in my life," Alex
said.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Mulder muttered, his lanky body sinking back against the
upholstery in despair. He put his arm over his eyes and his chest shook.
Walter glanced back and saw Krycek look at Mulder and then quickly look
away, blinking back his own tears.
Starting the car, Walter grunted as he realized that he was disorientated,
confused by the residential area. The Sheridan was south. He would just head
south. However, he quickly found that the streets did not go through. He
asked, "Krycek, you know this area? I want to go back to the Sheridan
hotel."
"With me?" Krycek asked.
"Yes, I think we should make a plan. There has to be some way to bring the
Smoking-Man down. Let Mulder and I pick your brain. Maybe we can find a way
out of this mess for you," Walter said.
"Oh, yeah, I should have known. I just thought..." Krycek trailed off.
"You want us to have sex with you again?" Skinner asked, the thought
stirring something he had been trying hard to repress.
"Not just sex," Krycek said. His eyes darkened. He shook his head. "Never
mind, it was stupid. Look, go right. Yeah, now left, and right again."
It was a crazy street design, but the street had promise. Stop signs
proclaimed it was a main street. Walter managed to join the flow of traffic
and headed west.
"Turn left on Mall Street," Alex told him. "You can follow that nearly all
the way to the Sheridan."
A short distance on the busy four-lane road brought them to a shopping
center, dominated by a huge grinning rat statue.
"Look, Alex, your relative?" Mulder asked. He sounded sarcastic and in
control again.
"That's where I was supposed to have a birthday right now," Alex said
longingly. "Mona said everyone should have one kid party no matter how old
they were."
On impulse, Walter turned into the center. Gruffly, he said, "I've never
been to Chuck E. Cheese."
Mulder leaned over and unlocked the handcuff. He asked, "Why didn't you ever
have a party?"
"I grew up in a Russian orphanage until I was eight, Mulder. Food is scarce
and birthdays are just another mark against the chance of ever having a
family. One day, this tall, well-dressed English guy walked into the place.
He pointed at me and I was picked. I was so excited. I thought I was being
adopted! I was just a stupid kid to think there are any happy endings. He
brought me to New York to a big fancy house. I was bright, nothing to do,
but read in the place where I grew up. Now, I had tutors, language coaches.
It took them less than a year to produce a kid who was as American as apple
pie. Then I was placed in a Consortium family. Really a great deal growing
up in a family where they look at you and wonder what's going on with their
real kid who is up in space with the fucking aliens," Alex explained. He
swallowed hard and added, "Shit, I didn't mean to say all of that."
Walter shook his head. He believed that Krycek was telling the truth. It fit
the facts that Mulder had gleaned from the fabric of lies of the shadow
organization. He said, "Come on, Mulder, let go see what this giant rat
place is about."
A huge group of people mobbed Alex. "Hey, you made it!" said a grinning
Indian man, who was as brown skinned and dark of eye as any habitué of
'Dances with Wolves'. He even had long black hair down to his shoulders.
A fine-boned older woman with piercing blue eyes in an exotic face said
sharply, "Jack, where the hell did you go? I just went to call Claude and
let him know to get the kids ready and you were gone."
"That was our fault," Mulder informed her, oozing charm. "We couldn't resist
kidnapping Jack. It's been ages since I saw him. I'm Fox M...Madison and
this is Walter Hyde. We're very old friends of Jack."
Sharp eyes bored into his, but she shrugged and said, "I'm glad he has
friends. The way I found him, I would have thought he didn't have any. I
don't know why I trusted him, but he's a good worker. I'm Mona Church. This
is my husband, Claude Sam."
Alex said, "Mona, I'm going to have to leave. I'll pay the bond back
somehow. I promise. Things are catching up with me. Things that you wouldn't
want your kids and grand kids exposed to."
The thin face with the sharp bone structure and slightly protuberant teeth
looked calmly at Alex. "I can understand. Jack, whatever you are involved
in, the one question you should ask yourself is whether it will have any
meaning in another generation. Some fights are worth fighting."
"I've been doing more running than fighting," Alex admitted. "That could
change."
"Think about it. But tonight, you are the birthday kid. Your only job is to
have fun," the woman said.
It was wild. A group of young people ranging from early teens to adulthood
tried to keep herd on hyperactive younger children. Mona's beautiful
daughter, a young woman with an unpronounceable Indian name, handled two of
the youngest with the skills of a woman twice her age. Others...too many for
the number of adults flitted into a pit of gaily colored plastic balls or
climbed monkey like through an arrangement of tubes and cubes.
Walter just tried to have more pizza in him than on him as the rampaging
children flowed around the adults.
Krycek moved through the crowd. The gawky young agent was gone forever. The
man who had replaced him had acquired a cool and sort of inspired jazz as he
walked. The worn denim clung to his pert rump, singing a come hither to
Walter. Mulder was also enthralled and moved toward the seductive slide of
those hips.
Alex seemed to take the chaos in stride. He was with a honey-colored
pixie-like girl who resembled both Mona and her daughter. Angel, as was her
name, seemed to think that she owned the green-eyed man. She stomped her
feet and made him try all the games that an adult could play. He was not
allowed to remove his party hat though he looked sheepish and pleased.
Walter watched Mulder and Alex laugh like loons as they played a game that
consisted of pounding down cute rats, which popped out of holes. Finally,
all of the heads were down. Angel made her way over with a towering man in a
rat costume.
"There he is! You stand with him and kiya Mona will take your picture with
Chuck E Cheese," Angel commanded, as imperial as a queen.
Shortly, Walter found himself posing with a grinning Mulder and a stunned
looking Krycek. Polaroid pictures popped out like toast. Walter found
himself tucking one in his pocket. Mulder and Krycek also received one.
After a tearful parting with Angel, Krycek brushed his own eyes and walked
back to the car with them. When he sat down, he said, "Angel is Mona's
granddaughter. Her father was killed in a gangland shooting. Her mother has
a drinking problem. She's almost as much of an orphan as I was. I don't
know. She just seemed to like me from the moment her grandmother brought her
down to the stands and she saw me. Asked me if I wanted to be her daddy...
shit. I shouldn't have let her get close."
"You're only human," Mulder said. "Come here."
Walter saw Mulder enfold Alex in his arms. His lover said, "Alex, Walter
asked the wrong question. It wasn't 'do you want to have sex with us'. It
should be 'may we make love to you'. May we?"
Lifting the face to his when Alex's head ducked away and down, Mulder said
in a voice that could have come from an honeycomb or ripened grain in a
field, "May we make love to you?"
"Please, yes, please make love to me," Alex groaned, with a sob and a cry of
joy fighting to swallow his words.
Walter saw the kiss in the mirror. He felt so many things- hope, fear, but
mostly just the desire to get back to that damn hotel.
A few directions from Alex spoken in a meltingly passionate voice got them
there. Trying to walk like three reputable men about to share a few drinks
or a private talk, they crossed the lobby.
The elevator doors slid shut and Walter took the chance to take his first
kiss. He stared into moss green eyes and kissed each velvet moth-winged lid
first. He tasted his way down until he reached the lips, pale pink as cherry
blossoms, tenders as petals, hot and yielding as sun warmed waters. Walter's
hand smoothed over Alex's back, molding that perfect ass with them.
Alex collapsed against him, letting Walter hold him up. Closing his eyes,
Walter nibbled the cupid bow upper lip, teased his tongue to encircle
Alex's. He sucked on the trembling flesh lightly, pulling it into his own
mouth. He felt a moan of passion exhale against his lips. At which point,
the door opened.
It was just a few feet but it seemed as if it took forever. Shutting the
door, Mulder's eyes devoured them both as Walter undressed the man they both
had loved...and lost. Found now for however long.
The long neck arched back as Walter suckled on the pulse point wildly
beating in the silken flesh. He made his way to the clavicle, a line of
beauty flying across Alex's chest. He unfastened the jeans as Mulder took
off the Doc Martens.
His hands clasping both of their hips, Mulder tried to get their cocks in
his mouth at the same time. Unsuccessful, the talented lips and tongue
teased each in turn until both of them headed for the bed, pulling him up to
tumble with them.
Three men. Three mouths. Three hearts beating like rapid war drums. Moans
and sighs washed over the bodies that seemed to strain to become one.
After a length of delightful madness when none of them could coordinate
anything other than the frantic kisses, the hands recognizing the blessed
pleasure of touching and being touched by the only ones who could complete
their souls, Walter's fingers teased Alex open. Mulder was already sweetly
impaled, pushing back. Walter slid into hot, tight, flesh that seemed to
pull him in. His hand tangled with two others as they all completed the
circuit by coaxing Mulder's erection to jerk and spill in time to Alex's
thrusts, Walter's thrusts.
It was just possible to kiss two men almost as one. Only if you were so
close that even a molecule of air could not separate your flesh. This was
bliss, utter complete bliss. It was like something that had been stolen from
the gods. It was fire and light. It was knowledge, completeness, and joy.
A second time, Alex was coaxed between Walter's legs. Mulder supported his
lover from a kneeling position as he stroked himself in time to Alex's
tentative movements.
"Go ahead, Alex. Don't be afraid. He won't break. He wants you inside him.
You know how good it feels, how complete. Give it to him, Alex, give it all
to him," Mulder directed. He turned Alex's face to his, the two of them
kissing deeply above Walter before Mulder gave joined sweetness to Walter's
seeking mouth.
It was the only time he had ever did this with Alex. He hadn't known why he
held that back, but now he was glad. It was clean and completed. No masks,
no pretenses, just love. Always love.
Walter's body arched, almost lifting Alex's entire weight as he came,
roaring like a lion. Falling back, Walter said, "God, that was perfect.
Alex, we have to find a way to stay together. I'll leave the FBI."
"I will too," Mulder promised. "I can pursue my quest from outside. We'll be
the three musketeers."
Alex agreed, "Yes, oh hell, they'll probably kill us, but I can't leave
again."
Waking, Walter knew danger. Somehow the steps and a hushed voice outside
told him everything he needed to know. Flinging Alex out of bed, Walter
grabbed the man's clothes from the floor and shoved him toward the window.
"Out. Run. Mulder, go with him."
Alex obeyed, but Mulder scrambled for his gun. Light flooded the room. Dark
figures outlined against the intense whiteness....something sweet and
nauseating.
Fading, Walter looked to the window that hung open. Had Alex escaped? His
last thought was that of hope.
Groaning, Walter untangled Mulder from his body. He was mildly sore. The
room stank of something odd. Picking up his wristwatch, Walter was
terrified. He was missing a day, an entire fucking day.
"Mulder, wake up. It's Sunday," Walter said.
"How can it be Sunday? We were here and about to make love...it was Friday
night," Mulder argued.
Handing Mulder the timepiece, Walter switched on the TV, confirming that the
watch's date was correct. Shit, what could have happened? Had they drank or
been drugged?
Walter stood up and staggered to the mirror. There was a bite mark and
scratches on his chest. Nothing unusual if Mulder was enthused and his lover
often was enthused.
Catching his toe, Walter picked up the jeans he had been wearing. Hmm,
something in the pocket. He pulled out a Polaroid picture. Mulder, him, a
giant rat and Alex Krycek staring at them both with such love in his eyes
that it hurt to see it.
"I have one too," Mulder said.
"He must have found us, drugged us, and raped us," Walter said.
Mulder picked up a tee shirt and held it to his nose. "This smells like
Alex. The one I was wearing is gone."
"The bastard..." Walter growled, "When I get my hands on him again, he'll
wish he was in hell."
Sad eyes stared at him and Mulder asked, "Why did he have to take the
memory? Why?"
Walter was silent as he echoed the same regret in his heart. Carefully, he
slid the Polaroid in his wallet. It was evidence, nothing but evidence...
And Walter would try very hard to believe that lie.
The end
Chuck E's in Love
by Ursula
"What could make a boy behave this way?
He learn all of the lines, and every time he
Don't stutter when he talk
And it's true! It's true! He sure is acquired a
cool and inspired sorta jazz when he walk
Where's his jacket and his old blue jeans?
If this ain't healthy is it some kinda clean?
I think that Chuck E's in love
Chuck E's in love"
Ricki Lee Jones
