Today however, he was depressed. His thoughts were preoccupied with Alex Krycek. The last time
he had seen the man was in his apartment where his lost lover and hated enemy had knocked him
flat on his ass, kissed his cheek, muttered "Good luck, my friend" in Russian, and turned to disappear
from his life.
The rain, the unceasing cold rain, hit the window as gusts of wind drove it with near gale force
against the hotel window. After staring at the view for a while, Mulder opened his lap top computer,
plugged it into the courtesy phone line at the Home Hotel and prepared to work. He looked up a few
references on the current case, a run of the mill boy meets girl, boy eats girl, serial killer investigation.
The accidental juxtaposition of the titles in the newspaper amused him. "Remains of Third victim of the
Duwamish River Cannibal Found" "Successful and Innovative Menu Choices Make Republican
Fundraising Banquet Unique"
Mulder guiltily hooked into a web site with the blaring catch line: "Male Escorts: Beautiful, discreet men on line, Why be alone tonight?"
Not bad, he decided, clicking on the picture of a running back type who wore a Sea Hawks jersey, a
gleaming smile, and nothing else. He was blond and blue eyed and his resume said that he liked
"Being a top escort". Mulder decided he was not in the mood to be topped. He perused the next row of
possible and then decided to check out the search engine. He winced as he entered his choices, "Green
eyes, dark brown hair, tall and well built, white, bottom, and bondage." Yeah, Mulder, he chided his
self indulgent inclinations 'might as well add, "Speaks Russian and carries gun, must love this
country"'
Lovely, he thought, as he saw that his choices had narrowed to six men. He clicked one picture,
hmm, a little young. The next one was willowy, weak chinned, although he had a pretty mouth and
nice eyes. The third, oh my, it couldn't be. The listing said, Rod, middleweight contender, open to
extreme possibilities. He had dark brown lustrous hair, green eyes, luscious curling long soot-black
eyelashes, a beautiful sensitive mouth, a perky nose, and a soulful look.
Mulder called immediately, his fingers trembling with eagerness. The man checked and said, "Yes,
sir, Rod is available tonight. Do you wish to book him? How long will you require his services as an
escort?"
Mulder replied, "Three days, off and on, but I will pay for all of his time. Oh, and have him pick up
a Sears suit and a striped tie. Put that on my credit card too."
Mulder could hear the snicker in the man's voice as he filled in his blanks, but he didn't care. He
hurriedly shed his suit and went to take a shower. He couldn't get his erection down without
gratifying it, so he just waited, his hard on tenting the fresh suit he had put on. The tentative knock
made his cock leap. Oh, god, more perfect than he ever could have hoped. Mulder restrained an urge
to punch the escort, but he did pull him inside abruptly.
Rod must have been used to such tactics because he made no comment. Mulder said, "Uh, I'm
Walter. You're Rod?"
"Rodney" the man said, his eyes shyly down cast. He was wearing damn near the same suit that
Alex Krycek had been wearing the cursed, blessed day that he had walked into Mulder's life.
Mulder's knees went weak and he sagged onto the bed. Rodney shuffled his feet; he seemed
depressed, reluctant, and withdrawn. He asked, "Is the suit what you wanted? Do I get to keep it?"
Mulder smiled and said, "The suit is perfect. Rodney, I think we should go to bed and then I'll take
you out to dinner some place."
Rodney shrugged and said, "You bought three days. Uh, I have classes tomorrow...I was wondering
if I could still go to them?"
Mulder nodded and said, "I have to work during the day. I just wanted to make sure you were
available during my whole stay."
Rodney seemed mildly complimented about that. He started to tug the tie off. Mulder said, "I want to
do that. Let me undress you."
First to look at him, the long, shapely legs, the round plush ass, the bulge outlined at his groin...so
perfect. Mulder carefully untied the knot in the striped tie. Yeah, it was an untidy mess just like Alex
used to make. Mulder held the two untied ends, tugging them lightly. Rodney flinched.
Mulder's brows quirked and he said, "Hey there, not going to hurt you."
Rodney exclaimed, "Oh, I thought you were going to choke me. A lot of times customers like to do
that."
Mulder closed his eyes, that voice was perfect, husky, low, sexy, and just a trifle rough. When he
reopened his eyes, he let the red striped tie fall to the lushly carpeted floor. He unbuttoned the first
button on the crisp, new white shirt and the second. He parted the material. He could see a pulse
beating in that long, grace note of a neck. He kissed Rodney there. He licked and delicately nipped
his way around. His hands pushed the jacket off Rod's well-developed arms. The cloth whispered its
way downward. He looked at Rodney's face. Rodney was passive within his embrace. His eyes gazed
emptily at the ceiling. Mulder wondered what made him sell his body in this way? Rodney seemed to
hate it.
Mulder continued to undress his doll like "date". Rodney looked away as Mulder slid off the suit
pants. Mulder knelt and saw the shiny shoes. He encouraged Rodney to balance his foot on top of his
knee and untied the first shoe. Black socks, just what he had ordered. He ran his fingers, tickling
down the large, but well-shaped foot. He rubbed his face catlike against the muscular leg. Rodney
looked down as if surprised. Mulder finished undressing the man and stood back. Other than a scar or
two, this was Alex's body, just younger. Mulder held out his hand and Rodney took it in silence.
Mulder led him to the bed, tumbling back the sheets.
Mulder undressed, standing over the beautiful man who looked like Alex. He hung his suit carefully
and crossed the room naked. Rodney stirred, laying an arm over his face. Mulder froze. The sight of
him was lovely and it hurt. Opening his shaving kit, Mulder took out condoms and lubricant. Rodney
asked, "You want me front or back?"
Mulder said, "Do you know how to make love?"
"What do you mean? You mean have I been fucked before? What do you think?" the prostitute
replied.
Mulder got into the bed and clasped Rodney's arm to turn him side-by-side, face-to-face. He said, "I
mean, make love. Kiss, fondle, caress, leading up to a wonderful, mutual pleasure."
Rodney's laugh was a short disgusted bark. He said, "It's your money."
Mulder noticed that Rodney tasted different when he kissed him and his reaction was different. Alex
made kissing an art form, he should have written a pillow book on the subject. This man was passive,
almost flinching back. Mulder realized that however many men had been allowed to fuck this lovely
whore; no one had touched his heart or even aroused his passion. Mulder decided that, before he left
this city, he would make Rodney remember him with pleasure.
Mulder wondered if Rodney had the same sensitive spots as Alex. Behind those elfin, close-set ears,
immediately under the chin, ummm, apparently, yes, because Rodney arched suddenly and, when,
Mulder glanced at him, the man blushed. Mulder caressed over and over a certain spot on the arm until the touch became almost a
torment for Rodney and certainly, a tantalization. Finally, those nipples, Rodney had beautiful nipples
just like Alex had. Mulder outlined them with his tongue and nibbled. He was gentle. He could feel a
ridge of tooth shaped scarring. Someone had bitten Rodney hard there. Mulder played with one
nipple as he suckled the other. He licked his way downward, finding the prominent abdominal
muscles fascinating. He moved to the minimal curve where the torso delved into the groin. He
inserted his tongue, traced the little demarcation until Rodney squirmed and laughed.
Mulder looked up and said, "You have such a nice laugh."
"I do?" the man said, "I don't laugh much." He reached out to stroke Mulder's hair and asked, "Is this
it? I mean; are you going to soften me up with this nice stuff and then, hurt me?"
Mulder said, "No, Rodney, no hurting. I am going to make you feel good."
Rodney laughed again and said, "That's my job."
Mulder said, "It's what pleases me."
Mulder explored the heated salty, musky wonders of that groin. His mouth and stroking fingers
found remembered places, but again the taste was different. He asked, "Are you clean, Rodney? No
diseases?"
Rodney replied, "Yeah, but I won't let anyone fuck me without a condom..."
Mulder said, "And I won't even try that. I just want to go down on you bare. Sit up a bit and watch
me. You'll like what you see."
Rodney's sounds were so muted, so wondering that Mulder knew that he was penetrating the crass
commerce of this arrangement. "Uhh," Rodney moaned, tossing his head against the pillows and
disheveling the shining hair. He rubbed his nipples harder and harder as Mulder sucked until he was
literally pinching them. His gasps became louder as he twisted his hips and tried to lunge. Rodney
finished with an almost convulsive tremor. He lay gasping and Mulder crouched over him, enjoying
the results of his efforts. When Rodney caught his breath, he said, "Oh, man, that was wow. And you
are paying someone to do this to me?"
Mulder said, "Rodney, you are worth a hell of a lot more then money could buy."
"Yeah?" he asked
Mulder said, "Yeah"
Rodney said, "I want you to do me now. I'm all relaxed and everything."
Mulder was ready, but he wanted to take this slowly and carefully so he would see enjoyment
instead of pain on that familiar face. This was heaven and hell to him, tasting the seeds of the
pomegranate that would keep him in Hades. He knew from the first that this was madness. He should
be doing everything in his power to forget his betraying, murderous, treacherous, passionate,
heart-searing former lover.
Who was he kidding? He would never have anyone like Alex again. This fantasy with a paid player
was as close to paradise as he would be allowed.
Mulder encouraged Rodney to lie on his side, propping a leg on a pillow to keep him comfortably
open. His exploring finger found signs of scarring. Poor Rodney had been hard used for rough trade.
He decided he would coax this man open as if he was a virgin. His finger found the spot and he
stroked until Rodney was catching his breath at every touch. His second and third fingers gradually
stretched the well-lubricated flesh. Now, he turned Rodney, smiling to see the returned erection.
Rodney adjusted himself on the pillows. His face looked serious and earnest as if he wanted to please
Mulder very much, but wasn't sure how. Mulder remarked, "You are beautiful."
The faint frown creased Rodney's nose in such a familiar way. He tossed his head against the pillow,
the luxuriant hair glowed in the light; the red tones were like garnets set in onyx. Mulder resolved
that he would at least make an attempt to sort out whatever mess had forced Rodney into this
situation. Right now, right now, Mulder could resist no longer. He steadied his cock with one hand,
holding Rodney open with the other. He went slowly, waiting as Rodney adjusted to his slow thrusts.
Rodney's face wore a sheen of sweat. Mulder felt what always drew him to this act, the tightness, the
heat, and the resistance of his partner's strong male body as he penetrated. Mulder moved slightly
until Rodney squirmed beneath him, writhing in abandonment.
Mulder watched Rodney's face, both to savor the likeness to his Alex and to see that he wrought
changes to the whore's indifference. When he paused, not wanting this to end yet, Rodney growled
with frustration and said, "Don't stop now. Move, please, move."
Mulder said, "Your wish..." He knew he would not be able to hold back longer, but he didn't have to
restrain his orgasm. Rodney was groaning and clutching the sheets. As Mulder came, he heard
Rodney's keen and he enjoyed the rapid pumping of Rodney's ass against his groin. They fell apart,
gasping like runners at the end of a marathon.
Rodney reached for him after their breathing leveled. "Never thought it could feel like that." He
remarked, then he kissed Mulder and, after all, he did know how to kiss. He was not in Alex's league,
but he was sweet.
Mulder had a new Lexus as a rental car. It smelled so clean that the pine tree that bobbed from the
mirror was a mere affectation. Rodney asked, "You like jazz?"
Mulder shrugged. He wasn't devoted to any musical genre. The truth was he lacked a passion for
music and just maintained enough awareness to pass in social situations. Rodney said, "There's a great
club in the town, where I used to live. The food is great and the crowd is sophisticated. If you want to
touch me, no one will notice."
Mulder capitulated. He drove to a store first and bought Rodney a pair of jeans and a good sweater.
Gouts of rain still poured down, swamping the front end of the car at times. Soggy leaves occasionally
blew against the windshield, plastering the glass like specimens on a slide. Rodney sat in his new
clothing, looking much more at ease. Mulder asked, "What are you taking in college?"
Rodney replied, "Addiction intervention counseling. I get an associates degree and my certification so
I can be a counselor. I'll be the first in my family to have a college degree." He sounded very proud
and Mulder squelched his elitist reaction to the idea of a community college education.
Rodney said, "Used to have a bad drinking problem and I gambled too. That's how I got in this
mess." Rodney winced as if he had said much more than he meant to reveal.
Mulder asked, "Is it money or something else?"
Rodney looked at him with those huge green eyes. Mulder had the irresistible urge to help this man
from his situation. Maybe, if he had really sat Alex down, honestly confronted him and offered to help
then he would still have him as a lover instead of as an addictive madness. Finally, Rodney ducked
his head, tucked his chin low and said, "Both. I had gambling debts and this guy bought them up. He
died and I thought I was free, but I found out he had a nephew who knew every dirty secret his uncle
had. One day he showed up, announced that he was my new owner. I have a sister and they
threatened her too. So I do this until he says that we are square. Sometimes I think the only way out is
to mess up my face and body so no one will want me."
Mulder replied, "That would be a desecration. You tell me everything you know about this man and
I'll see what I can do. Listen, Rodney, about situation here. You don't have to do anything for me if
you don't want to do it."
Rodney said, "No, I mean, I want to get some more of that. I never liked it with those guys but I like
it with you."
Mulder grinned and reached over to caress Rodney's leg before having to use both hands on the
wheel again. Some idiot in a big truck swerved into his lane, sending a blinding wave of rain onto his
windshield. He grumbled, "How do people stand all this rain?"
Rodney shrugged and said, "You just get used to it."
Mulder shuddered and said, "I wouldn't. No wonder the suicide rate is so high not to mention the
number of serial killers who locate to this area."
Rodney blithely replied, "Yeah, we get the crazy ones. Right now, we got some kook beheading
people with as sword. I was looking at statistics one night and beheading is the leading cause of death
in Seacouver, the town to which we're going. Weird, huh?"
Mulder pursed his lips. Yes, that was strange. It was a wonder that there was not a task force
assigned to that one. Of course, the Northwest had so many unsolved murders that every cop could
have been assigned exclusively to one series. Mulder asked, "Did you hear about the Cannibal
murders?"
Rodney said, "Sure, we were discussing it in class. We thought it was someone driven mad by school
cafeteria food. The food at my school is a crime in itself."
Mulder laughed at that. They talked about Rodney's classes and Mulder was oddly envious about the
man's enthusiasm for his education. Mulder's only doubt about college was Oxford against Yale rather
then ever doubting that he would attend a cream of the crop school. Rodney revealed that he had
been a middleweight fighter, but had quit because that was how he was drawn into gambling in the
first place. "Besides", Rodney had said, 'Why risk brain damage if you are never going to be rich
enough to afford a full time nurse when you are fifty?'
Joe's Bar was atmospheric in the best way. It reminded Mulder of the English pubs he had visited
when he was in Oxford. It was dark enough to be intimate, but light enough so you didn't accidentally
sit at the wrong table. He noticed a long nosed man with truly lovely eyes splaying his long legs out
like an invitation as he sat at the bar. He was bantering with the proprietor, an oddly handsome older
man whom Mulder would have picked to play Socrates without a qualm. They were joined by a
beautiful youth, a hyperactive blond man who didn't really look old enough to be legally in the bar.
The kid had various bar settings lined up, twiddling with them as if he was trying to demonstrate the
battle plan for Gettysburg.
The music was tolerable. Rodney seemed to actually enjoy it. The food was out standing and the beer
was excellent. Overall they had a very nice evening until MacLeod walked in the door with Scully on
his arm. She briefly gave Mulder a "What are you doing look?" before her gaze turned to Rodney and
her red lipstick outlined mouth gaped with shock. Mulder quickly said, "Scully, this is Rodney uh ..."
Rodney smoothly shot in with "Lange. I guess I look like somebody you know."
MacLeod snorted and said, "There's a lot of that going around."
Scully had recovered and said, "Oh, Mr. Lange, you really do look like a man with whom we
worked, but you're younger."
Mulder uncomfortably avoided the accusatory stare in Scully's eyes. They had never discussed his
affair with Krycek, but Scully knew him more intimately in every way, except sexually, than anyone.
He said, "I was just going to drive Rodney home. He's a student so he needs his sleep."
MacLeod looked interested and remarked, "Rodney, does that mean you're in college?"
Rodney replied, "Yeah, taking classes to be an addictions counselor."
MacLeod said, "I'm very glad to hear that. Please tell Iris hello for me."
"Sure, MacLeod," Rodney replied.
Mulder's cheeks were burning as they left. Rodney's huddled position and averted face in the car
finally drew him out of his own problems. He said, "Rodney, you had no way of knowing that my uh coworker was going to be at Joe's. We were having
a great night. Let's just forget that incident. I'll deal with her in the morning. Will you come back to
the hotel with me? You don't have to do it, but I would like to have you spend the night."
Rodney nodded at him and said, "Yeah, I want to."
Mulder forgot for a while how much like Alex this man was. When he took him to bed this time, it
was Rodney that he held and Rodney that he kissed. Those shining green eyes and that small delicate
mouth delighted Mulder and he didn't compare them to his traitorous darling's, not much at least. Of
course, later, he lay awake and he could only think about Alex. Where was he? Did he often lie
awake like this and dream about Mulder?
Rodney cried out, "No, no, please? Please, don't!"
Mulder carefully touched the man, "Rodney, it's fine. You're safe. Shh, calm down, no one will hurt
you."
Rodney blinked and reached for Mulder. The covers fell away from him and he shivered pitifully.
Mulder drew the blanket around them both as Rodney reached for him. Rodney muttered, "I'm going
to miss you when you leave."
Mulder replied, "Maybe I can sort things out for you. It sounds like your Mr. Coleman and his heir
had some ties to organized crime. Let me see if anyone is watching the bastard. There's witness
protection..."
Rodney shook his head and explained, "I have a lot of credits and I'm not giving up my name. The
bastards took everything from me, but my sister and that. No more, I won't back down any more. Iris,
my sister, she has a guy, a nice ordinary guy wanting to marry her. If we run and hide, she loses that
and, hey, it's all she really wants, just a little dream, but it's her dream"
Mulder rolled over to lie on top of Rodney, feeling the warmth of skin touching along their entire
length. He stroked the cheeks, found indentations where smile lines would hopefully form, and then,
rolled over bringing Rodney with him so he tumbled on top with a small throaty laugh.
Spontaneously, Rodney kissed him. Rodney said, "You know, part of me wishes it could be like Iris,
you know. Someone like you just rushes into my miserable life and scoops me up and out of this
gutter. I know better, but I'm going to keep this, man. I'm going to remember." His voice dropping to
a sultry whisper, Rodney said, "Do you think I could make love to you now? Can I do what you did?"
Mulder said, "Yeah,"
"Don't want to hurt you." Rodney said, "No one ever let me before. I mean, not that I wanted to do it
until I met you."
Mulder said, "I'll teach you"
In the morning, Mulder did not want to get out of bed. He did not want to put on his suit, cloak
himself in the garb and manner of his work. He wanted to stay in bed with this man who looked like
his lost one yet was innocent despite his whorish status. Sighing, Rodney dolefully announced,
"Sociology 105. The teacher gives a snap test in the first ten minutes so there goes a tenth of your
grade point if you miss one. Got to go."
Mulder kissed Rodney, pressing him into the door. He asked, "Can I see you tonight?"
Rodney grinned and said, "What do you want me to wear tonight?"
Mulder braced his arms on the doorway and replied, "Anything I can take off you quickly. Okay, go
ace that test, genius."
Part Two
Scully's lips looked swollen. Hell, as they passed a mirror in the hallway,
Mulder noticed that they both looked debauched. He paused and pointed. Scully
said, "Hell, they'll be saying we sleep together again."
Mulder shrugged and said, "Well, it's a cover for me."
Scully sighed and said, "Mulder, it's always about you."
Mulder smiled again. Scully said, "Hopefully, your Rodney only has his
appearance in common with Krycek. For one insane minute, I thought it was
Krycek. Christ, couldn't you have fallen in love with someone normal like
Skinner or what was that cute little lab geek's name?"
"Pendrell, and he lusted after you, my dear, not me." Mulder replied.
"Not my type, Duncan MacLeod is my type." Scully said.
"I go for the tall, dark and conceited type myself." Mulder commented.
Scully snapped, "He's a very sensitive man, intelligent, sexy, and
mature. He doesn't try to hide behind junior high smutty jokes for one thing.
He knows what he wants."
Mulder snorted and said, "Okay, I'll lay off you and you lay off me. Deal?"
Scully said, "Deal. So, what were you thinking about our serial killer, oh
great profiler?"
Mulder said, "The usual, race, white, the victims were all Caucasian woman,
mid twenties to early thirties, attractive enough that he must have
something, charm and looks, to get to them. He has an off wheel vehicle,
something common enough to be unremarkable. There was no penetration except
with objects; I'm going to suspect he's impotent or not capable of normal
sexual acts. The bites will be great evidence once we catch him."
Scully added, "We know he has great teeth, no unevenness at all in the bite
marks."
The head of the special task force was a lumpy man, massive shoulders, a
bulging stomach, which strained his shirt buttons, and a hairline going for
the middle of his head. Ridges of wrinkles defined his broad forehead and his
lower lip drooped like Huckleberry Hound's. Ed Aspen was an unhappy man. He
announced, "Just a call on another one. Grab some waders and let's go. This
one is floating."
The Duwamish River meandered through the urban setting like a little old
lady, bewildered and lost, on her first visit to the city. Warehouses turned
blind eyes on the banks. Scrub trees and thick bush growth overran this area,
but there were trails, enough to make it obvious that people came and went.
Mulder darted to the side, noticing a scrap of material. It was a rag of a
blanket, one of those thick, composite things handed out to the homeless. He
wrinkled his nose as he went deeper. There was a deserted nest in there for a
human rodent. Empty cans of foods, stale, moldy bread, and collections of
cigarette butts marked the site as a long-term home for someone. Mulder could
see the abutment and the overhang created a sort of concrete cave for an
urban troglodyte.
Aspen yelled, "Mulder, you going to check the crime scene or beat your meat
in the bushes?"
Mulder grinned and yelled back, "Coming..."
Scully's mouth was twitching as he rejoined the group. Mulder said,
"Someone was living in there until very recently. He or she may have seen
something."
Aspen snorted and said, "Yeah, we'll look into it for all the good it will
do. You see Washington State had this grand idea that people have a right to
be crazy if they are not presenting a clear and present danger to themselves
or others. We cleaned out our mental hospitals out onto the streets. They got
the freedom to starve and live in bushes."
Mulder was a little sensitive on the subject of mental health
hospitalization so he didn't answer. Besides, by the number of empty liquor
bottles, this person's problem was alcohol not mental illness. He said,
"Have someone check the prints any way."
"You got it." Aspen said.
Mulder winced as he saw the body. She had been pulled to shore. She was
nude. The ligature marks were plain, deeply embedded on her body although the
item was gone. Mulder stepped close enough to observe that it was the same
outline as he had observed on the other corpses. He thought it might be an
electrical cord. The bites were numerous. The killer was truly a cannibal.
Following his hunch, Mulder hovered over the finger print technician for a
computer match. The record spewed out a lazy length; impressively stretching
it's flimsy paper for at least a foot and a half. The arrests were all petty
crimes. The last residence was a homeless shelter. Mulder called up a picture
and winced. The possible witness looked demented. A straggle of blackened
nubs marked the remains of his teeth. His white hair hung in ragged curls,
lopsided as if he had caught it on something or cut half of it before someone
decided he shouldn't be trusted with scissors. His eyes looked as if they
should have spun with crazed circles in an animated cartoon. His shoulders
were narrow, crooked peaks and his neck looked like a turkey neck after it
was boiled for Thanksgiving gravy. He was as thin as a living skeleton.
The shelter was cooperative once Mulder presented the court order. One of
the victims had been the niece of a popular judge. Warrants were amazingly
easy to come by. The stout, African American woman at the desk yelled,
"Rodney!"
Mulder startled, thinking it was a coincidence, but it was not. Rodney
galloped down the corridor and skidded to a stop before the desk. He was
wearing a long sleeved sweatshirt, which was wet, very wet. He announced
before he saw Mulder, "Char, that new guy passed out in the shower. He's
awake now but I called detox to get him because I don't like the way he's
breathing."
"Good, Rodney, this is Agent Mulder. He's a consultant on those horrible
killings and he thinks that Mr. Redmond might have seen something. Is he
back?" The stout, well-dressed woman asked.
Rodney had recovered well. He didn't even blink as the woman said, "Agent
Mulder, this is Rodney Lange. He's volunteering for school credit. He knows
Leroy Redmond very well. He might help you to make sense out of his
ramblings."
Rodney nodded and said, "Yeah, I was surprised to see him so early in the
season. He usually camps out under that overpass until the frost is thick
every morning. He's going to be bagged ice one of these days."
Rodney didn't acknowledge their night in any way. He was bright and
conniving. Maybe, he and Alex did have a gene pool in common. The possible
witness, Redmond, was only fifty years old, but he looked a thousand. His skin
was an unhealthy yellow and his middle protruded in a round swell as if he
was pregnant with his own death. Rodney whispered, "Liver damage and he's
almost a wet brain, brain cells corroded by alcohol beyond repair. You got to
kind of get into his stream of thought and go with the flow until you get him
back where you want him."
The small room was furnished with a battered desk and three chairs. Mulder
took the one behind the desk. It rocked a little and the green vinyl had been
repaired with layers of duct tape. Redmond huddled in another of the hideous
chairs and picked at another rip in the bilious upholstery. His rheumy,
sunken eyes wept tears and his venous hooked nose dripped green mucous which
he sometimes wiped on his sleeve no matter how often Rodney handed him a
tissue. Rodney had chosen to sit on the edge of the desk. His round,
jean-clad ass was a subtle distraction, but Mulder tried to concentrate on
his work.
Rodney could get the man to talk. Redmond said, "I used to be a fighter
too, kid. They eat you alive. Yep, use you up and throw you away."
Rodney looked at Mulder and said, "I know, so hey, Redmond, how come you
aren't still in your camp?"
"Lousy neighbors woke me up, loud truck, thumping. I went to look and he
was dragging his missus naked to the river. Not decent, if you ask me."
Jackpot, Mulder exulted. He hadn't lost his touch after all. Mulder asked,
"Redmond, what did your neighbor look like?"
"Big fellow in a slicker. I would like one like that; yellow like the water
utility people wear when they check the drains. Had a nice coat a few weeks
ago, but some bum took it. Class of people on the streets these days. Used to
be people knew each other." The man said blearily, "Man, you got you a honker
don't you? Nose like that you ought to be a cop. Nosy cop, get it?"
Mulder grimaced and said, 'Mr. Redmond, did you see the vehicle the man
drove?"
"Wasn't driving no vehicle." Redmond said, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
Rodney helpfully interjected, "What kind of car?"
"Kid, wasn't a car. It was a truck. Big ass black truck...old one with
stuff in it. I just went up to take a look. Didn't take nothing." Redmond
said.
Mulder decided to have Redmond placed in protective custody. Rodney
followed him outside and said, "You know, Redmond does steal."
Mulder said, "I know. I saw his records."
Rodney said, "I know where he keeps his shopping cart when he's here. You
want to take a look? I'm off here anyway."
Mulder grinned and said, "I think so. Are you done for the day? I'm ready
to catch some dinner. I worked through lunch."
Rodney said, "Yeah, but I can't afford anything much."
Mulder said, "Well, you just became an informant so I can put it on my
expense account."
Rodney guided him to another warehouse by the river. They had to get out of
the car and walk a distance along the riverbank to come to a sheltered place,
where the cart was hidden by bushes. Rodney explained, "They can't take their
things with them into the shelter so the lucky ones have a stash like this."
Mulder drew out two pairs of rubber gloves and with distaste sorted through
cans, bottles, half smoked and bent cigarettes, reeking blankets and clothing
stiff and brittle with grime. Mulder poked through an assortment of bags
while Rodney did the same. He was uncomfortably aware of how familiar this
felt as if he had Alex back as his partner. Rodney said, "Oh, man, look at
this...city worker ID. You got 'em, Mulder. Wow, I feel like I'm on NYPD Blue
or something."
John Hartness was a tall, strongly built Caucasian male. He owned a truck,
a ten-year-old black Toyota. He had never been married and had lived with his
aged mother until her death according to the records that Mulder pulled up.
Unfortunately, there was not too much evidence. The only hope was that this
man was a collector.
Luckily for them, the 'protect your own' instinct still operated with the
judge who handed out search warrants for the work locker and the home. The
house was in Georgetown, a paint-scaled Victorian monstrosity with a tall
spiked iron fence. The grass stood in soggy clumps around the house and brown
remains of rose blossoms hung from untended bushes. Hartness wasn't home.
Mulder moved behind Scully and the local police, waiting to see if his hunch had paid off
and his luck had lasted. They crept down rickety stairs, expecting a charnel
house, but finding rows and rows of homemade preserves. There was a supply of
slickers, more than any reasonable man could have needed. All of them were
bagged for evidence. Mulder also noted the case of rubber gloves and nylons
that could be used to keep hair follicles from being left on the victims.
However, the killer was a secretor so his effort was foolish.
A small, but tough looking, Indian woman was the one that found the
evidence. She had the attic to search and had found a supply of blood stained
underwear and swathes of hair hidden in the hollowed lid of a trunk. She
stood akimbo with her hands on her narrow blue-clad hips. Her dark brown eyes
reflected weary triumph as she said, "I think we have him."
Mulder read the badge and said, "Good work, Officer Harrington."
Captain Aspen added, "Good one, Linda. You are going to make detective
yet." His round face reflected his relief. He added, "Agent Mulder, you are
as good as they said you were."
Mulder said, "Yeah, but you have to catch him first before issuing your
press release."
Mulder waited at the house, an occasional thought of Rodney keeping him
warm. Around midnight, Hartness drove up in his truck. Surrounded by armored
and armed officers, Hartness surrendered anticlimactically without a fight.
Mulder listened with a certain satisfaction to the officer, reading the man's
rights. This might not be saving the world from alien invaders, but at least
it had a neat and tidy end.
Scully said, "Congratulations, Mulder. I have to say, this time it was you."
Mulder said, "And Rodney. He works at a homeless shelter and led me to
where the witness left his stuff, including the wallet he removed from
Hartness' truck."
Mulder nodded to Scully and said, "I'm done. I'm going back to the hotel."
Rodney was waiting, a sleepy heap in the hotel bed. He emerged with his
hair deliciously tousled, pushing back the stubborn lock that tumbled towards
his eyes. He stretched, ripples of muscles moving just so. Mulder thoughts
sank to groin level and didn't want to return to higher functioning. He said,
"No classes tomorrow. You want to tell me what happened first or just go to
bed?"
Mulder said, "Bed for now. I'll tell you tomorrow."
Rodney through the covers open and his arms as well. He looked at Mulder
with mischief in his eyes. Husky voice said, "Want you to do something kinky
with me."
Mulder was sure he blushed. Any number of possibilities flashed through his
convoluted and wicked brain. Rodney said, "Hmm, got to wonder what you were
thinking. No, I just want you to tickle me. I had a girl friend who would do
it, unmercifully, and it would just turn me on."
"Tickling, tickling turns you on?" Mulder inquired as he undressed. "I can
oblige. Let's see, start with the ribs...are you ticklish there? Uh-huh, you
sure are and under the chin? Yes, and here, oh my, where aren't you
ticklish?" Mulder grabbed the lubrication and inserted a finger, surprised to
find that Rodney was already greased and stretched. "Is that ticklish too?"
A moan interrupted the giggles. Mulder's lips twitched and he couldn't help
letting the crooked smile conquer his whole mouth as he stroked the spot over
and over. He wiped his hand and said, "But I forgot, you wanted tickling." He
tried the underside of Rodney's knees until the younger man grabbed him and
flipped him over.
Rodney said, "Enough tickling now, I want you to fuck me." The eyes
smoldered, "Make me yours. Do it to me, Mulder..."
Oh, he sounded like Alex! Mulder felt a shudder of feeling cascade through
him. This might be the last time that he made love to Rodney and he did want
to be here with the troubled ex-fighter and not locked in his memories of
Alex. He willed away the images, trying to keep his feelings about losing
Alex locked beneath the rage, which was the only feeling to which he was
willing to admit.
Rodney sighed as he lifted his legs high against his chest. Mulder took the
time to prepare him just a little more although the general effect was to
cause this lover to breathe in deep gasps as if any more would bring him over
the edge. Mulder slid into the man, evoking a tremor and a groan. Rodney
rested his legs over Mulder's shoulders, pushing forward eagerly each time
Mulder thrust. Mulder timed his strokes over Rodney's hot, hard cock with his
thrusts. Rodney smothered his cries by biting down on a fold of blanket, but
he still sounded wild and out of his mind with pleasure.
Mulder's release was like snapping loose from earth's orbit. He collapsed
for longer then he should have allowed and Rodney was left to untangle their
limbs. Rodney's face was grave and open as he held Mulder in his arms. "Yeah." He
said, "Yeah, that was perfect."
The media was excited by the capture. Not since Ted Bundy had one of these
serial cases led to the hoped for denouncement. Mulder had told Aspen to
keep his name out of it so the local police were in their glory. Scully was
off on another date with Duncan MacLeod, 'some romantic,' Mulder thought,
even he didn't think an archeological dig was a proper setting for love.
Aspen was very willing to introduce Mulder to the Organized Crime squad's
head, Giovanni Pascal. The detective was a sour, worried looking man. Mulder
could see Kevlar beneath his shirt and didn't blame him. This was a spot
where corruption offered at every turn and, if that didn't suck you down into
the swamp; there was always some hit man offering to buy you a section of it
for an unmarked grave. The dark complexioned man frowned or rather his
perpetual frown deepened. He said, "Coleman? The older one was murdered
almost two years ago. Yeah, a nephew took over, Paul Coleman. We have a file
on him that is rapidly becoming as thick as his uncle's. The young one is
dumb. We are going to get him soon on income tax evasion and pandering,
leading minors into prosecution. You got something on him?"
"No, I ran into someone who had problems with him and wanted to check to
see if he was as dirty as the man suggested." Mulder said.
The shrewd black eyes narrowed further. Mulder had the feeling that the
brain was processing something. Well, Mulder wasn't the first law enforcement
type to fall in with hookers. Mulder said, "When are you going to move?"
"Soon." Pascal replied.
Mulder had to be content with that. He told Rodney that his troubles would
be over soon. Rodney sighed and said, "Yeah, I hope so. I really hope so."
Mulder on impulse said, "Hey, come with me. I can help you with school. You
could make a clean break."
Rodney shook his head and said, "No, I told myself I wouldn't run and
besides, I could fall in love with you, but you would always be seeing that
Alex guy that I look like. Oh, don't look so shocked. You cry out for him in
your sleep and you said his name the first time we made love." Rodney smiled
and said, "But now, this last few times, it's my name you say."
Mulder stared out through the heavy fog, which had lifted just enough to
allow the plane to take off. He sighed, thinking of what he had found in that
rainy city.
Maybe, just, maybe, it was enough to refuel him and keep him going. What had
Rodney said toward the last? 'You ever ask that guy what made him do what he
did? If it was I, I would. You don't get the real thing very often, Mulder
and, if it comes to me one of these days, I'm going grab it and hold on
tight. I'll tell him or her what I've been and then, I hope, they will still
love me and forgive me. You think about it and you look me up if you're in
Seattle again.'
Mulder glanced at Scully who was smiling with her eyes closed, red painted
fingernails playing with a strand of red hair. Maybe they both had found a
momentary rest, a warm place out of the rain in that dreary city.
EPILOG:
In Seattle, the rain fell harder. A shadow detached from a dark crevice in
the wall. Alex Krycek had followed his twin to his appointment with his slave
master. The kid had a night class and Alex wanted to make sure that Rodney
was there, in plain sight so he wouldn't be blamed. Shit, he ought to hate the
kid for screwing with his Mulder, but he couldn't. Alex's hand clamped on the
hard construction of plastic and metal that hung from his shoulder. After watching
Rodney go into the classroom, Alex went back to the crime lord's office. The
bodyguard was a stupid piece of meat. Scars marked his face and his nose bore
the look of play dough, mashed and reformed so often that it no longer could
hold any shape. Alex knocked him out and entered the office on the top floor
of the darkened bar.
The man he saw was about his age, a round faced character with thick waves
of brown hair further adding to the impression of a huge head. He was wearing
an expensive suit, but it couldn't make the man. This guy was a sleaze who
could have cheapened Mulder's best Armani suit. The man licked his thick,
pink lips and said, "Come back for more, Rodney? You know, I am in the mood
for dessert after all. Bring that mouth to where I can use it."
Alex slunk over, but instead of kneeling, he straddled the broad lap,
rubbing his torso in hot, enticing stokes downward. He closed his eyes,
letting himself imagine it was Mulder's lap. He knew his mouth was open and
that he was about to purr like a cat in heat. Coleman remarked, "Shit,
someone feed you amyl nitrate or something? I thought you hated this?"
Alex said, "No, I don't hate it." He leaned closer and fastened his mouth
on the moist flab of those lips. He continued to squirm until Coleman was
arching, his cock tenting those expensive trousers. "No, with the right guy,
what I want to do to you is just so, so, good." His flesh arm surrounded the
thick neck. Coleman was transfixed like a rabbit the moment before the hawk
sank in sharp talons. His expression changed as Alex's grip was reinforced by
the strong, cold weight of his prosthesis. Alex whispered, "So good" as he
twisted the fleshy neck upward and to the side in a sudden, strong motion. He
quickly stepped back, watching Coleman die, the fat hips thrusting into the
air as he fucked death.
Alex smiled and stepped around the man to rapidly search and remove every
trace of information about Rodney and his sister. As a last gesture, Alex
triggered the accelerants he had placed earlier. Alex blew a kiss at the
corpse that lay in a puddle of yellow fluid. "It was good for me," he snarled
as he walked out.
Alex was many blocks away when he heard the fire engines wailing like
banshees. He smirked. 'There you go, kid.' He thought. 'You're free. Wish I
was.'
Alex caught a cab to SeaTac and made his flight with minutes to spare. It
was time to go home, time to check on Mulder and find out if making love to
Alex's young double had sated the hunger or merely tantalized it. Alex bet
that Mulder had a craving for the real thing, but Alex was not a gambling
man. No, he was the type that when he wanted something, he made it happen.
Yeah, and he would.
The End.
A Warm Place Out of the Rain
by Ursula
Mulder walked Scully to the door like an older brother. She looked lovely. She wore a straight cut
diaphanous coat over the green slip dress, allowing her to look a little more covered than the
revealing lines of the simply styled garment intended, but she still looked ravishing. Mulder could
see every curve of her through the fabric as she stood for a moment in front of her date. Duncan
MacLeod, history professor, dojo owner, and antique appraiser seemed to appreciate the view. He was
slightly shorter than Mulder, a dark complexioned man with handsome strong features, smoldering
brown eyes, a sensuous smile and a look of lithe, almost smug, sexuality. Hell, under different
circumstances, Mulder would have been jealous of Scully.
