by Amazon X
Over North America
I swoop down to see people walking along, just going about their
days, and I know this is where I'll be needed most. I look down and
see all the people who need me. I can see them, into their hearts,
into their souls, and I know who wants to love and who doesn't
deserve it. They find love without me, of course, they just don't
get the strong, long-lasting love without my assistance. There's
always something wrong with those relationships.
Too bad I can't do for myself. You see, my arrows are two-fold.
They have to find two people. They could be anybody, really. I
don't discriminate against sexes. If two men love each other, or two
women, that is as encouraged as a man and a woman. That's preferred,
actually. I am Greek, after all.
I've loved many people, well, had many lovers, I should say. I've
never had a true love. I'm not a blushing maiden, nor am I a
debauched rogue, but I have never found someone whom I want to spend
my life with, doing things other than what I do. I don't even have a
true human form, though some think I'm a chubby baby, swathed in a
diaper with golden curls and blue eyes. I don't know what I look
like, though a priestess of Delphi deemed me "too beautiful to be
accurately described by words." This was before I made love to her.
Afterward, she was beyond comprehensible speech.
I am but a lonely archer, bringing love, passion and romance to the
masses. Alas, none for me.
Washington, D.C., the center of politics of the United States, is
where I find myself. I love early April in this city, the cherry
blossoms are starting to bloom, and their sweet fragrant petals float
over the lovers who sit on the benches around the monuments, like a
shower of pure love. There are two people there, as I float here
watching, who are talking and sharing lunch. The petite redhead is
so...something, so...reserved. She doesn't want him to see what's in
her heart. And he won't tell her how he feels, since bringing her
into his heart would mean to lose her. So he thinks.
He has lost everyone he loves, his sister, his father, his mother.
She has lost her father and a sister. I can't give them back those
whom they've lost, I can only give them each other. Reaching into
the quiver, I grab an arrow and draw it back in the string. I have
amazing aim. The arrow flies and splits, as it should, and two
streaks of light fly with total accuracy into the hearts of those
federal agents. Both look stunned a moment, then they take a good
look at each other. I wish I were twins so I could high five myself.
I land in one of the blossoming cherry trees and just watch them,
watch their hands meet, watch their eyes lock on and watch that first
kiss. It's magical, it's mystical, I may break out in a
Lennon-McCartney song. Hands have taken hold of each other and I
just know that this will be one of the ones that last. If they pay
attention. These two belong together. I'm so enthralled by their
kissing that I don't see the big man who interrupts them.
He's startled them. Oh, they're blushing and pulling away...no,
please, they were so happy together. The way he whispered "Dana" in
her ear. He let her use his first name, which I think is as adorable
as first names come. "Fox" sounded so perfect coming from her mouth.
But he isn't yelling at them. He's blushing. He looks up...oh my
heavens!
Gods on Olympus, he's beautiful. He is...he...oh dear, he's leaving.
Wait, wait...I pull an arrow and draw back and let it fly. It
splits and just hovers by him. It isn't hitting his heart. He isn't
in love. No, he didn't see me. He can't see me. Not unless he
wants to. And I can see in his heart that he doesn't. No, he does
not want to see me.
I follow them back and watch as the tall man leads the lovers away.
Behind his back they hold hands as they walk toward the big square
building. I follow and zero in on the intruder. He is very tall,
broad shoulders and tiny waist, and is mostly bald. There is a
sparse fringe of closely cut hair at the nape of his head, and all I
want is to nuzzle my face in it. He leads them to their workplace
and I don't see him again until the night. I wait outside the
building, not daring to go in. Evil lives in that building and it
always interferes with love.
It is very late when he leaves the building, dark outside and almost
everyone has already gone home. The two newest lovers have gone to
dinner then back to her apartment to enjoy their first night
together. He is determined to get home quickly, which he does and I
follow his big black car to his tall glass building. He enters and
throws the mail on a table, not even looking in it. He walks to the
liquor cabinet and I watch as he pours a glass of scotch. I watch as
he drinks glass after glass, then wobbles up to bed.
Oh, he is so sad, I see it in his heart. He has no one to love him,
and I want to be the one who loves him. Oh, gods, I've seen so many
humans, watched them, learned their different cultures and how they
react to one another. I've spent all my millennia trying to spread
love, to make them stop being jealous and hating each other. But
never have I found it for myself, not until now. I want him and I
want him badly. I alight in his bedroom and watch him sleep
fitfully. He is so very sad, but in his dreams I see he wants
happiness. He just doesn't know with whom. He does hold a fondness
for the man I've given to the blue-eyed Dana, but he knows it isn't
what he wants. But he wants something similar. He doesn't love the
man himself, but I can see he wants a man. And it hurts him. And
that, in turn, hurts me.
Mt. Olympus
I sit and cry on the steps of the great hall. I cannot stand to be
down there one more minute. It has been three Earth weeks since I
have found my beloved and I cannot bear to watch him any longer. His
name is Walter Skinner. He is an assistant director with the Federal
Bureau of Investigation. He is a very important man. He is a
married man. He is a very sad man.
I watched him take a shower, washing his strong and powerful body. I
watched as he briefly considered his genitals and then moved on to
use the sisal strap on his back. He all but ignored his erection
that morning and it quickly fled him. I could not bear it another
moment.
The tears just come on their own. I guess this is what it feels like
when your heart breaks. I am lost in my own sorrow, my own misery.
How do humans cope with these feelings, this hurt, this pain? I love
him, I want to be with him, I want to make love with him, but he
doesn't believe. He doesn't believe in love, and that means he can't
believe in me. And I can never have him. What shall I do?
I feel a hand on my arm and I look up. My father, Ares, is smiling
down at me. I'm one of the few people he smiles at. I'm not like
his other children. I create things, create love and families and
babies, my favorite of all. I think he finds it a novelty. He
notices I'm crying.
"Eros, my son, what saddens you? Isn't it your season?" He sits
beside me and pats my shoulder. He removes his war helmet to show me
his face. He is very handsome, which is why I am, so I'm told. We
have the same green eyes. My mother's eyes are heavenly blue. He's
raven-haired, as well, like me. But his bulk and musculature eludes
me, as I am delicately-boned like my mother.
"I am in love, Father, but my love does not believe in me, so he
cannot see me and I cannot have him," I tell him, then resume my
sobs. He slides an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close.
"Son, I cannot help you. I know that your arrows will not work on
yourself, nor on a non-believer. But I think there is a way you may
be able to have your love." His smile is so soft and gentle. My
father never acts this way. He must really believe me. There isn't
anything I can do for him that he would be falsely kind.
"How shall I win him, Father? How can I make him believe?" I wipe
at my cheeks, waiting for his wisdom.
"You must speak to your mother. Only she can bring love to those who
do not believe." His smile was a sad one, but I knew he was telling
the truth.
"How do I ask her? I have no idea how to do this. I should be able
to do this myself."
My father stands and said, "Who is this man whom you love?" I lead
him to the reflecting pool to bring him the images of my love. I
show him all of Walter's memories, the ones I was able to glean from
his heart. His days in high school playing football and wrestling,
his year in Vietnam, his days in college, his lovely wife, his
family, his career. My father is impressed by his warrior nature. I
believe he will be my champion to woo my mother into helping me.
You see, my mother, Aphrodite, believes that people should find their
own loves and make it happen. She does not like that I meddle in the
lives of humans, but understands why I do it. She will find this
irony delicious, even though she is not malicious. However, if Hera
finds out, I am toast. She'll never let up. I must act quickly.
"Father, please, where is Mother?" I want to get to her as soon as I
can.
"You just wait here. I'll take care of everything. Wash the tears
from your eyes, my son. All will be well in the end. I promise you
that."
I nod and watch as he leaves. Taking the time to wash myself
thoroughly and change my robe, I wait for my mother. She will no
doubt come to find me after my father speaks with her. There was a
person who sang a song once about the waiting being the hardest part.
That man was a genius.
Mother comes to me not long after Father has left and floats to me.
Yes, she walks, but anyone who has ever seen a goddess move knows
they barely put forth any effort to walk. Her robes flow about her
to drape with the greatest amount of grace as she sits beside me. I
love to watch my mother move. I take her proffered hand and she sits
with me. Her kiss on my cheek is like the faintest flutter of a
butterfly's wings.
"My most handsome son, your father tells me you are having trouble
with love. I find that...ironic."
I bow my head and kiss her hand. "He does not believe in love,
Mother. He cannot see me. And my arrows don't work on me. I
thought you knew that. They have to find two equal targets. And he
is married, but it brings him no joy. Would you help me?"
"Your father has told me this man is very important to you. Tell me
about him."
I tell her the entire story, about seeing him collect the lovers I
created and not embarrass them. I tell her about his memories. I
tell her about his routines and his habits. And I tell her how he's
given up on love and having a romance because he feels old and
useless, that he ignores his wife, and she acts equally. I tell her
how I want to be his lover, to be with him. "Mother, all my past
lovers have believed in love. But he does not. He can't see me."
She pauses and smiles sadly at me. "My dearest child, I cannot make
him believe in love. I don't know what I can do for you. I can only
bring love to those who seek it. Like you."
I pull away from her, straining to hold my tears back. This is the
worst I have ever felt in my life. If anything, I could always count
on my mother for help. I understand her words, her limitations, but
I don't have to like it. I feel her hand on my shoulder and I turn
to her, letting my tears loose. She holds me and croons to me,
stroking my hair and rocking me gently. I feel her kisses on the
crown of my head. She is singing a song to me, one she would sing me
to sleep with as a baby. Then I feel her pulling away. I look up at
her.
"I will help you. But remember, I cannot change his beliefs. I will
not do anything to him."
"Then what will you do?" I pray my hopefulness is showing in my
eyes.
"I will make you human. I will give you a past and a present, but
you must steer your future. If this man is to be yours, you will
have to make him yours." Her smile returned as she stood to leave
me.
"Wait, mother, how will I do that? How can I make him love me?" I
was well and truly frightened at this prospect.
"The way humans who don't believe in you do it. Romance him. Woo
him. Sweep him off his feet. You can do it. After all, your are
my son."
She floats away from me. I sit here contemplating my fate. I'm
scared. I know it will be difficult. But I'm hopeful. I will
succeed.
J. Edger Hoover Building
I'm giving Mulder a new partner. He doesn't want it, but I saw how
well he worked with Scully, before they declared their feelings, and
I think a new one will work well with him. This time, I'm giving him
a believer. Not someone off-the-deep-end as Mulder, but someone more
open than Scully was. I think I've found him. His name is Alex
Krycek, top three percentile of his class at Columbia University, top
two percentile of his class at Quantico, followed Mulder's studies in
criminal profiling and paranormal psychology. He's worked hard, and
found the Grissom case all on his own.
I'm due to meet with him in five minutes so I have to piss before the
meeting. Who knows when I'll have a chance later? As I walk out of
my private lavatory, zipping my fly, he's standing there. Oh, God,
he's a handsome one. The green ones always are. He's got a horrible
off-the-rack suit on and way too much gel in his hair. Hopefully,
Mulder will give the kid some advice. Then again, a junior agent's
pay won't cover the suits Mulder buys with his inheritance money.
Shoot, even I don't have as many Armani suits as he does. I like the
cut of a Hugo Boss, anyway.
He turns to me, smiling this huge, brilliant smile, as if it's its
own light source. I dip my head and right my belt buckle. "Agent
Krycek, I didn't hear you enter."
"No, sir, I slipped in from the hall. Your assistant looks quite
busy and I knew you were expecting me." He hands me his file and I
look it over. As I settle into my chair, I look up at him. Is that
his scent in the air? Suddenly, the room is filled with the scent of
musk and roses. He just stood there, hands behind his back in parade
rest position, smiling widely. His green eyes were flashing as he
looked me over. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was being
checked out. But I think early in his career even this green agent
knows sleeping your way into the bureau will not work. The climate
for homosexuals is better than is used to be, but a superior officer
is still a superior officer.
"Agent Krycek, please have a seat," I tell him, and he looks as if he
floats into the chair. Right away, I'm struck by this man. I've had
a male lover, but I'm also married. Well, if you can call Sharon in
our bed and me on the couch married. I had thought I loved her. I
sigh and start our meeting. Krycek briefs me on the situation and I
sign his 302. Then I send him off to find Mulder. I give him
directions to Mulder's basement office. The case smacks of an X-File
and I can't deny Mulder this investigation. I will not send him out
alone, though. And this young agent seems to have a decent head on
his shoulders. Hopefully, he will keep Mulder from going off the
deep end.
As the day wears on, I hear from this agent twice. First to tell me,
through Kim of course, that Mulder has gone off to New York without
him, and then to tell me that Mulder is acting incredibly abusive.
Is this what I have to put up with? I sit in my chair and watch Kim
fumble around at her desk. I need a new assistant. Who's that new
one down in the bullpen, the one who looks like Agent Scully? Her
name starts with an A, I know that much. I'll have to look into
getting her up here. Every time I call down there, she's very
helpful and organized.
At the end of my day, I'm confident that I made the right choice in
pairing Mulder with Krycek. Hopefully, their second day together
would prove to be more of a cooperative effort than their first.
J. Edger Hoover Building
Mulder and Krycek, while clearing out more cases than most of the
Violent Crimes division combined, are going to drive me to an early
grave. I have no hair to pull out and I drink more than most men I
know, so that's my last choice. When I think my ulcer can't get any
worse, they walk into my office, Mulder accusing, Krycek explaining
and appeasing. And they're followed by a weird scent. Mulder's
cologne, Cool Water, is wafting in with him, and I know he wears it
to impress Scully. She is here for a meeting, presenting forensic
evidence. Under that is the scent I've come to associate with
Krycek, full of musk and roses. It's very strange. I wonder if he
does that on purpose.
They remember that I'm also in the office with them and Mulder flops
into the leather chair without an invitation. Krycek blushes and
smiles gently, waiting for my invitation, which is an extended hand
toward the chair he's standing before. He again drifts down slowly
as if floating into the chair. This young man has the greatest
muscle control I've ever seen.
They begin briefing me on their latest case, a human fluke worm. My
head hurts. As I reach up to rub my temple, Mulder gets the hint.
He stands and states, "When I've finished the written report, sir,
I'll have it for your desk. I'll just...go..." and he turns and
leave. Krycek has not even stood from his chair. He looks at me
with a cocked head.
"Are you in pain, sir?" he asks in that smooth, singsong voice of
his. I look up and his eyes, like chips of emerald, are concerned.
"My migraine is flaring up. I'll be fine. I need to just close my
eyes." I'm not even aware as he tells Kim not to disturb me and
closes the door. I am aware of him closing my blinds and turning off
the ambient lights in the room, making it very dark for me. He walks
behind my chair and I feel his long, cool fingers on my head. And it
doesn't make me jump, or nervous, even though I knew it was wrong on
many levels.
"Agent Krycek, you are out of line, here. Please, just leave before
I need to take action." His hands stop massaging my temples, but he
does not remove them.
"Sir, I'm just trying to help you. Please, just relax and let me
take care of you. There is nothing to fear from me." His voice
soothes me and my raging brain. I let him work his magic on my head,
and soon, I am pain free and more relaxed than after my last sexual
encounter. I sit back in my chair and I hear him walk back around my
desk. He is standing between me and the door, just looking at me. I
turn my sated gaze on him.
"Agent Krycek, thank you for your help, but in the future please
don't do that again. It's inappropriate and if someone were to
enter, we'd be subject to an OPC review. Thank you."
I don't like dismissing him like that. He's crestfallen and it was
written all over his face. I feel like a heel. If it were Cassidy,
that's one thing. She's an assistant director. She and I could
essentially get it on. But not a junior agent, female or male.
Fraternizing with junior staff is a great way to destroy my career.
And I'm not ready to give my career up for a new agent I just began
supervising two weeks ago, no matter how handsome he is. It doesn't
matter that I feel a rush of blood in my loins at the recognition of
his peculiar scent. It is of no consequence that he is the most
beautiful creature in the entire FBI, as far as I have seen. It has
no bearing on me that the face that enters my head when I masturbate,
now regularly, is his face.
I decide to leave the office early today, citing my migraine as the
cause and drive home. The more I think about it, the heavier my foot
becomes in its urgency to make it to Georgetown. Sharon is home by
this time, school letting out at three and she rarely stays after
school. Hers is the most well behaved third grade class in all of
the DC area, apparently. It's almost three thirty when I open the
front door.
"Walter? Is that you?" She walks out of the kitchen drying her
hands. I drop my briefcase and go to her quickly, taking her in my
arms and kissing her. She doesn't protest as she has so many times
before. I carry her to the bedroom and before I know it, we're
making love like when we had first met. She is as eager as I am, but
I keep burying my face in her neck, hoping to erase the blue eyes
before me, trying to conjure the mischievous green ones I sought. I
take a deep breath to calm my nerves, but the lung full of Anais
Anais only proves to me that I am not with the man that smells of
musk and roses, and I wilt mid-stroke. Sharon notices immediately
and sits up from the bed.
We both dress in silence, but as I hang my suit, having changed to
more comfortable jeans and a button down shirt, she proceeds to pack
a bag.
"Sharon, what are you doing? You're leaving?" I know I shouldn't
sound as stunned as I do, but this is surprising. I always thought
she would ask me to leave. I was almost waiting for it.
She turns to me and smiles softly. "Who is he?"
This time I'm truly shocked. "What the hell you are talking about?
There's no one else, male or female. I have been completely faithful
to you."
"In action, I have no doubt you have. I wouldn't expect any less
from you. You are the most faithful and trustworthy man I have ever
known in my life. But I know that in your heart, I'm not the person
you love. I have a feeling it's a man. And I have the feeling it's
recent."
"Even if it were true, how would you know?" I'm nervous and hurt at
the same time.
She lets out a tiny laugh. "You've been masturbating. I hear you.
I stand by the door to listen to you shower, if you can believe that.
I just wanted to still be close to you. Now I see that it's no use.
I'll miss you. And I love you."
I put my arms around her and hug her tightly. She hugs me back and
we kiss again. This time it's a gentle kiss of goodbye and good
luck. I will not contest the divorce, and I will give her everything
she wants. Watching her pack her things, I can barely keep my tears
back. I walk her to her car, carrying her bags and I put them in the
trunk for her. I tell her I will have Jane call her in the morning
to find out her terms so I can sign the dissolution. She smiles.
Then she drives away.
I walk slowly back into the house and straight to the scotch. I sit
and write out lists of things I will need to do, like finding another
apartment, selling the house and separating the possessions. It can
be remarkably simple.
As I descend into my fog of numbness, I lay on the couch, staring at
my wedding picture hanging on the wall in the living room. We were
so in love once upon a time. Or we looked it. Did I really love
her? Had I ever really loved anyone? With those thoughts in my
head, I drift off to sleep.
J. Edger Hoover Building
I've been pursuing my love for over a month now, working with Fox
William Mulder. I am at my end. I cannot do this work any longer.
I have been witness to some of the most horrific crimes humans can
perpetrate on each other and I do not want to do this for another
moment. Ghosts attacking workers in a convalescent home. A man who
believes he was abducted by aliens and to prove his point takes a
group of office workers hostage. There were more, but my head is
reeling with the sheer anger of it all. And at night, when I'm not
working, I try to get out to bring lovers together. I'm not very
happy.
Mulder, as he wants me to call him, is finishing our report. He has
a date with his fiance tonight. I'm so glad that Agent Scully is as
in love with him as he is with her. An arrow well shot. Alas, my
true love has not been about for the last week. He has been taking
care of "personal business" as per his new assistant. She is a perky
redhead who reminds me of Agent Scully, though Arlene is dating the
young redheaded man from the forensics lab.
So we go about our investigations and our work. Today, I was forced
to shoot a man I thought was going to shoot Mulder. He had altered
my human senses and I thought he was holding a gun. I've never taken
a life before. I thought I would be sick right there. I want my
mother. My father would be proud of me.
Mulder was quiet on our drive back to Washington and let me stay
quiet. He's finished the report and hands it to me to review, in
case I should add something. I tell him I will read it later. Then
he is there, at the door of our office. "I came to see if you
gentlemen were alright after the case you had this morning."
I look up at Walter and I know my smile is weak. I don't want him to
think I'm not up to my job. So long as I can continue to work for
him, I will endure what I must, so that I may be near him. But it
ain't easy!
Oh, gods, I'm talking like them. I sigh and say, "I'm fine, sir,
thank you."
"Mulder, you going out tonight? Or can I buy you a beer?" He pulls
himself to his full height and folds his arms over his considerable
chest. I fall deeper in love in that moment and I can feel the blush
on my cheeks.
"Scully and I are hitting the town, sir. I wish I could join you.
But get ol' Krycek out of here. He looked like he was gonna bust out
into tears today. Should we start calling you Kry-baby?" He laughs
at me, but I know it's just good-natured joking from a friend. He
pats my shoulder and says, "Walter, get him sloshed. Gimme the
report in the morning."
He slings his jacket onto his body and slips out of the room. Walter
still stands in the doorway looking at me. I smirk sadly at him.
"Come on, Krycek, let's go get a beer and talk. I know this is your
first shooting. Then, Monday, you see the counselor. Tonight, we
counsel ourselves."
This is it! This is my chance. Tonight, I will ply my love with
wine and song and I will get him to see me as more than just a junior
agent who needs his supervision more than anything. I must keep my
face calm and not giggle.
I gather my belongings and follow him to the garage to his car. He's
already stashed his briefcase in the back, along with his trench
coat. He gets in to drive and I get in the passenger side. My car
is at my apartment since I took public transportation to the office,
so I let him know he'll have to take me home.
"That's OK, I can do that. You live in Georgetown not too far from
where my house...um, I know the neighborhood well."
He stops there, and continues to the small pub close to my apartment.
He parks on the street and I get out, following him into the pub.
He leads me to the back and we sit in a booth. The place isn't very
crowded. I guess everyone is out dancing in the clubs. He orders
beer for us in a pitcher and I wait patiently. I don't really like
the stuff, preferring wine, but if this is how my love wants to
intoxicate me, I will drink blood if he chooses.
The waitress brings a large pitcher and he pours my mug. I can
barely contain my enthusiasm to pick it up. I can see my hand
trembling, as can he. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says,
"Krycek, relax. The case is over. The first one is the toughest.
I'm here to talk. But let's lubricate a little first."
He raises his mug and says, "To surviving a tough case." I bring my
mug to his and we both take healthy swigs of our drinks. He smiles
at me as I wince a bit.
"Not used to drinking, Alex?" This is first time he's used my first
name.
I smile at him and say, "No, sir, not really. I drink wine, but not
beer. But I like it."
We drain the mugs in silence, then he fills them again. I take
another healthy gulp and say, "I've never killed anyone before. It
was...chilling. But I was thankful to save Mulder's life. At least,
I thought I saved his life."
Walter nods. "It's OK, Alex. You're cleared. You just need to
understand, Cole wanted to go, according to Mulder. He hadn't slept
in a quarter of a century. That's unheard of. You may have given
him what he wanted. Don't be so upset about it."
I nod with a tight smile. "You're right, sir. Sorry, this is all
new to me."
"Call me Walter when we're not in the office. We're on our own time
so we can be friends. Hey, the ball game is starting. You like the
Orioles this year?"
I turn towards the big screen that take up a wall in the bar as the
players walk onto the field. I'm trying to learn about these games
they played, like the Olympics, but it's getting confusing to me.
But I can play along.
"Yes, I like them fine, s...um, Walter." I smile nervously. He
laughs.
"You know nothing about baseball, do you?"
I duck my head. This must be some type of omen. This was all a
mistake and I should never have come here. "No, Walter, I know
nothing about the game. I don't know much about American sports. I
tend to like other types of skills competitions, things like the
Olympics. These televised events are too much for me to take in all
at once."
"You involved in any sports in school? Your jacket is rather light
on extra curricular activities." I know he means my personnel file.
"I've always liked wrestling. Not the entertainment kind that is so
prevalent here, but the true sport. Two fighting for superiority,
the way the gods intended." I don't mean to get the wistful look in
my eyes, but I can see him trying to make out my meaning.
"You mean, Greco-Roman style? I lettered in that in high school, you
know. That and football. How interesting."
I know he wrestled. It is also true that I always liked watching
that best. He turns back to the game a few moments and we continue
to drink. He explains much of the game to me, including the curious
"infield fly rule" which is demonstrated while we watched. As the
sun set, casting a golden hue through the pub, I watch my love as he
pours us both another mug each of beer. I drank this while watching
him watch the television. He smiles and cheers with the rest of the
patrons when something apparently good happens.
He turns to me and sees me. I know there is a wistful look on my
face, which I quickly remove. It's too late. He saw me staring at
him. I can feel my body becoming more intoxicated the longer I sit
there. He turns back to the TV and we share another pitcher of beer.
I know I have had a little more than I should and I giggle a bit.
He turns to me, and I know he sees the sleepy look on my face.
"Well, Alex, I think it's time I took you home," he says as he
stands. He tips a little and says, "Shit, I'm no good to drive.
Damn, I guess we'd better get a cab. Where do you live?"
I look up into his handsome face and say, "Oh, about three streets
from here. We can walk there. Feel free to stay."
I will have him in my home. I must say that my mother thought of
everything. When she put me here, I had all of the human comforts I
needed, and all the knowledge to handle them. She is truly amazing.
I must make this evening count.
We wobble, trying to keep each other upright toward my apartment and
we almost don't make it up the two flights to the third floor. I
love this brownstone, and I like the top floor as well. But I can
show him everything tomorrow.
We stumble inside and I close the door, leaning heavily on it. He's
standing in the room looking at my meager furnishings. It's not very
opulent. My mother thought I should be humble. She did not have to
be so literal. He nodded around and said, "Well, the building is
nice, but just like I expected, bachelor furniture. I had a place
like this before I married Sharon. That was...1978...damn! Oh, I
feel old!"
He walks to the place where my music is held and smiles at my
choices. I do like music and the eclectic selection pleases him.
I'm very pleased. "Hey, you got the Muddy Waters Anthology! That's
really cool."
He turns to me with a genuine smile on his face. All I can return is
pure worship. I stay in place against the door. His smile turns to
something else, something I haven't seen on his face, but that of
others: lust. He asks, "Can I hang my coat up?" I nod and indicate
the coat rack beside me.
The evens that follow still cause my belly to clutch, my pulse to
race and my breath to quicken. He removes his trench coat and walks
toward me. Hanging it is the last thing I see before he comes to
stand before me. I close my eyes and I can feel his breath on my
face. His lips on mine are like coming home. I stand straight,
raising my arms to wind around his neck and we are kissing and
holding each other. He is holding me. My dearest love is holding me
in his arms, gently squeezing my body as he kisses me, plunders my
mouth with his tongue, tastes me thoroughly. No priestess or priest
of my temples have ever pleased me with kisses the way my beloved
does.
A hand makes its way to my face to stroke my cheek and he pulls back.
I open my eyes and see him smiling. "Alex, I have been thinking
about you since the day you cured my headache. I'd like to be with
you."
I know there is a stunned expression on my face. "But...aren't
you...married? Your wife..."
"We're divorcing. I've moved, we're selling the house, the papers
will be ready in two weeks. She has moved on. She urges me to do so
as well. I'd like to...with you."
His eyes are bright, with either alcohol or passion, and at this
moment, I don't care. His thumb is gently sliding over my lower lip
and my tongue touches it as if it had a mind of it's own. He smiles
again and I say, "Would you like me to show you my bedroom?" I kiss
his thumb and pull away.
He follows me to my bedroom, with its plain wood furniture and Queen
sized bed. He smiles as he sits on the bed, bouncing a little on it.
"Firm, I like that. Come here."
I walk to stand before him. He spreads his legs and pulls me to
stand in the middle. Oh, Gods, he smells incredible, even the smoke
and beer from the pub are like an intoxicating perfume to me. I am
so in love with this man, he could smell of corpses and I would love
it. His hands come up and pull open my jacket. "Undress for me."
It isn't a command, but a gentle request. I am eager to comply.
Each layer of clothing leaves my body and I soon stand before him as
I feel most comfortable, completely bare. A tentative hand, shaking
minutely, reaches out and is gently pressed flat on my belly. My
body, I must admit, my mother made from an image of the most
beautiful man she had seen, which is not my father. I wear Apollo's
sleek and muscular form. Each of my limbs, while not bulky and
grotesque, are well-shaped and strong. There is little hair but a
sprinkling on my chest and a line that leads from my navel to the
thatch that cradles my cock, which is rising as the hand explores
each muscle of my chest and shoulders. His other hand joins him as
he touches my body, sliding his hands down my flanks and back to cup
my buttocks firmly.
"You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen," he gasps to me. I
am so pleased I know my choked laugh sounds like a sob. He smiles as
I fight to keep the tears in my eyes. "Sit in my lap, Alex."
I do as he says and we begin kissing again. The jacket is slipped
from his shoulders and he allows me to remove his tie as well. He
pulls back and unbuttons his own shirt, sliding it down his arms.
Leaning back, I give him room to pull off his t-shirt and his chest
is revealed to me. The floor is hard under my knees as I crash down
in front of him. His chest is wide, muscular and covered in thick
curly hair.
Like a newborn babe, I seek a nipple to suck and nip at. He gasps,
and his hands come up to my head to hold me to him. My lips and
tongue explore all of his chest and neck, tasting him, marking him
where his shirt will hide the bites and bruises, memorizing him with
my mouth. If this is to be my only chance, I want to make the most
of it. I make my way down and push him by his shoulders to sit back.
"Alex, you don't have to..."
"I want to, Walter. Please, let me taste you," I beg. He nods.
I unbuckle his belt and fight with the button on his suit pants. His
erection impedes my unzipping him, so I leave him to do that him as I
remove his shoes and socks. He lets his pants and underwear slide
down, which I remove all the way. I sit back on my calves as I look
up his thick, muscular, beautiful body. His proud cock stands up
from a thick tangle of black fur. It's thick on his thighs, but gets
thinner down his legs. He is a god to me. I rise up and start by
kissing the head of his cock. It is leaking and I lap at the fluid,
enjoying each taste. He is letting little painful groans out, as if
I'm tending a wound. I cover the head of him and begin sucking him
as I have been sucked in the past. He is the first man I have ever
taken orally and I must remember to do to him as I like done to me.
The reactions I get to tonguing the head and sliding down the
underside are enthusiastic and pleased.
Before I have a chance to take him deeply in my throat a third time,
he pulls me up by the shoulders and says, "That's enough, Alex. Time
to move to the bed." He slides up my bed and lies back against the
pillows. With one leg bent up and his arm curled around his head, he
is the most delicious-looking morsel I've ever seen. I climb up and
sit looking at him just a moment. He is amazing. I crawl to him
and let his arms come about me to hold me as we commence kissing and
playing dueling tongues.
I feel the hand stroking my cock and I know I want to feel him in me.
I want to be filled completely by the massive cock I had down my
throat. I sit up and push him back. My mother thought of
everything. I reach into the drawer of the night table and pull out
a bottle of liquid lubricant. He smiles.
"My last physical was clean, as was yours. So forget the condom and
get on my dick!" He isn't ordering me but enticing me. I lube him
as quickly as I can and slide down on him, feeling my ass open to
him. I'm afraid he'll change his mind. But no, he holds my waist as
I move on him. I need him to take me, claim me, to let me know I
belong to him, then I can make him love me.
"Walter, lay me down and take me," I say, moving off of his body. I
lay back on the bed, where he was a moment ago as he moves between my
legs. He takes my calves and hoists my legs up, hooking under my
knees. The look of concentration on his face is priceless as he
positions himself at my hole and slides home. I feel the burn as his
big cock head stretches me again, and I cry out to him, "Yes, like
that!"
He smiles and leans down on me to kiss me. I am bent in half, his
cock up my ass and I am loving every minute of it. He begins moving
in me, stroking inside, quickly finding my prostate to nudge it and
jolt me through with lightning. The hair on his chest tickles the
back of my thighs.
The bed rocks as we move together. He's let my legs go so I move and
thrust up to meet him. I snatch kisses when I can, when he allows
me, or I lick away a line of sweat. We're both soaked with sweat,
using it to slide against each other. He kisses me deeply again.
"Alex, your ass is so tight. This feels incredible!"
I smile and grab him around his neck again. He lays fully on me and
just thrusts his hips. The friction on my own cock is making me
crazy. Oh, gods, I'm going to come soon, and I want to come for him.
I whine and cry out to him, and feel the rush, the flow, the
lightning strike through me, shooting me up to him, arching my body
into him. My come spits out between our bodies, making us sticky.
"Oh, God, Alex, fuck, I'm coming..." and I feel him erupt inside me.
His body writhes on me and he jerks a few times. He collapses on my
chest, gasping and heaving for breath. Then he starts giggling. The
giggles become full out laughs and soon we are both laughing at the
tops of our lungs. He turns his head to me and we kiss.
"Alex, that was amazing. You must have lightning in your ass or
something." His arms tightened on me. We kiss again.
"Thank you, Walter. I liked that. A lot. We can do it again, can't
we?" I try to look sweet and hopeful.
"Yes, Alex, we can. We need to keep this out of the office, since
I'm your superior. But we can definitely do it again. We can do it
a lot. Let's get cleaned up and get to bed."
Stumbling and fumbling in the bathroom, we make it back to bed and
slide under the covers. I curl up on his chest, peppering it
liberally with kisses. He laughs and presses a kiss into my hair.
His heart beat lulls me to sleep.
Georgetown
I awaken later than normal, and I know because the sun is high in the
morning sky. I'm not in my bed. And there's a warm body on me. It
takes me a moment to realize where I am and I smile, tightening my
arms around Alex's body. He sighs and the soft smile on his face
grows minutely. He is beautiful.
As I look at him carefully, I notice his face has no wrinkles, even
in a smile. And his bow mouth still looks a little swollen from my
brutal kisses. I could swear I wanted to eat his mouth off of his
head. The more I look at him, the more he seems angelic to me. He
reminds me of a cherub. I like him very much. And I want him to
know that.
That morning begins like many of our mornings begin. We make love
again, shower, one of us goes out for breakfast while the other
waits, depending on whose apartment we're in. I moved into a luxury
condo in the Viva Tower in Crystal City, very close to him, but not
too close. We enjoy our time together, exercising, running, I take
him to his first ballgame. He takes me all through the Smithsonian
and doesn't seem the least bit bored. Neither did I.
We've become bold lovers, christening each surface of each other's
house with lube and semen. Every wall in both apartments has had our
bodies bumping against it. I think I am falling in love with this
man.
The other night, I arrive at his apartment and there is nothing but
candle light in the room. He is completely naked, laying on the
couch with a book over his cock. "Sit, Walter." I do. He raises
the book and begins reading a love poem to me. There are glasses of
champagne poured and I drink one. I listen to his lilting voice for
an hour while I remove my clothing, eat some of the caviar he has
chilling, then the strawberries he's laid out. When he gets about
halfway through the book, I grab it, toss it across the room, then
carry him to his bed to make love. He tells me dirty limericks until
I come.
I'm in love. I will tell him tonight and see where this takes us.
But I have a sneaky suspicion he feels the same way. I don't know
what we'll do from here, move into a place together, how to handle
it. I must tell him though.
That night, after we make love, I lay beside his prone body. He is
on his back, coming back to me, I on my side, one arm propping me up.
My free hand is tracing each plane of his face, soothing the wrinkle
between his eyes. "I love you, Alex. I wanted to tell you that."
He doesn't move for a moment. Then the smiles splits his face and he
turns into me. His face is buried in my chest and I feel him
sobbing. I move backward and his face is wet with tears. "Alex, I
hope this is good."
"Oh, it is, Walter, it is! I love you so very much. I can't wait
to...um...oh, gods..." His face falls and he collapses back on the
bed. His hands come to his face and I see him try to take a deep
breath.
"What, Alex, tell me, what's wrong?"
After another deep breath, he says, "Walter, I am not Alex Krycek. I
saw you one day, when Fox and Dana were kissing in the park under the
cherry blossoms."
"You saw me? And...wait...I don't..."
He sits up and I can see him begin to glow. His face is changing.
The man I know as Alex is disappearing and someone else is sitting
there. Someone so beautiful, I almost can't look at him. I try my
hardest to remain calm. "Who...who are you?"
"I am Eros, son of Aphrodite, God of Love. I fell in love, but could
not make you love me. My mother allowed me to be human for you to
see me, so I could woo you."
"And...and...what now?"
He sighs. "You must accept me as I truly am, or I must leave. I can
have a human form when I am with you, and I will look like Alex. I
want to be Alex with you, but when I am not, I must be Eros and bring
love to humans. I must shoot them with my arrows and make them love
each other. Is...can you understand that?"
I look away. He becomes Alex again, but I just can't stay there. A
god? And honest to goodness Greek god. Oh shit.
I can't get my clothes on fast enough to get out of there. Oh shit,
fuck...goddam it all to hell. What the hell am I going to do? I
fell in love with a Greek god. There's only one man who can make any
sense of this. I dial Mulder's cell on mine as I drive toward his
apartment in Alexandria.
Mt. Olympus
I sit on the steps of the temple, not even aware that tears are
sliding down my face. I know my mother sits beside me since I smell
the roses. Her hands are comforting in my hair. "My son, you cannot
remain in this state. You must go back. He is searching for you."
"He does not love me, Mother. You witnessed his flight. He abhors
me."
"My son, he beseeched me to bring you back to him. He is in my
temple, in Athens. Go to him."
I look into her blue eyes. "Athens? Mother, he came for me here?
He is here?"
I barely wait to get to him. I fly swifter than the wind to my
mother's temple and see him there, sitting on a bench, watching the
people pray. I take the form of Alex and walk to him. "Walter, I am
here."
Him jumping from the bench to run to me warms the heart I had let
freeze over. He kisses me hungrily, devouring my mouth. "Oh, my
love, Alex, my sweet lover, how I missed you. I spoke with Mulder.
And he knew about us. He said 'Does it matter what or who he is as
long as you love him?' And he's right. I love you and can share
you, or wait for you, or whatever. As long as I can be with you. I
love you, Alex, very, very much."
We kiss again and retire to his hotel room to reunite. When we are
again catching our breaths, his big body covering mine, making me
feel loved and claimed, he asks, "How will this work?"
I shrug. "I don't know. But we'll do the best we can, won't we?"
"Yes, we will. I love you, Alex."
"I love you, Walter."
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
The End
Liked it? Tell me!
Springtime
awake floating above North America, looking down at all the people.
Yes, springtime, my time to stretch my wings and fly about. Why
they put a Catholic holiday attached to me in the winter, I'll never
understand. Spring is my season. Rebirth, growth and romance are
what I live for.
Late Morning
Two Weeks later
Basement Office
Alex Krycek's Apartment
Next Morning
Days Later
