Sorcerer 
By Sonja Blue


Saturday 2.00 a.m. 
Mulder's Apartment

Mulder opened the door to his apartment and walked into the darkened
place. Dumped his overnight luggage on the floor and then got himself a
glass of water from the kitchen. Feeling the cold water glide down his
throat, Mulder imagined washing away all the tight mental crap that was
caused by the last twenty-four hours. It was a neat mental trick to use
when a case had been really hellish - too bad the trick was not working
well. With a refilled glass of water in one hand Mulder did his usual
search around his apartment for any sort of interference like bugs on
the phone or any of his things that might have been moved. Satisfied
that the apartment this time was clean of bugs, except for the organic
kind that were scurrying around in his kitchen, Mulder leaned back onto
his leather couch with remote in hand, channel surfing.

One minute later he got up again to check that his apartment door was
securely locked, even though he recalled clearly that he had already
locked it. 'A sure sign that your paranoia has gone beyond the absurd'
Mulder thought to himself, a wry grimace creasing his handsome face.

Settling on a Godzilla movie, the Japanese version with subtitles which
he found a good choice to keep his mind off the X-file case that had
turned out to be a vicious hoax. Vicious in that there were four deaths
that resulted because of the hoax. Some smart ass college students
thought it would be funny to engineer a 'invasion of the body snatchers'
scenario, unfortunately one of the residents of the small Texas town had
believed the hoax and started the kill some people convinced that they
were really aliens in disguise. One of the victims was a 12-year-old
girl. A child. Putting all that information about the case into a mental
box and shoving it away, he concentrated on the subtitles.

Stripping down to his boxers and throwing his suit, shirt and tie beside
the coffee table, Mulder watched Godzilla rise from the sea to wreck
havoc on Tokyo. Stretched out on the couch he soon drifted off to sleep
half way through the movie, images of giant dark green monsters
flickering behind his eyelids.

~~*~~

4.17 am Saturday

Jerking awake and sitting up Mulder cocked his hearing towards the door.
There it was again, a knocking at his door that could just barely be
heard over the television. Reaching for his gun from the pile of clothes
heaped near the coffee table, he made is way quietly to the door and
looked through the door's peephole.

"Hell," Mulder muttered under his breath as he unlocked and swung the
door wide open. "John, what are you doing here?" Mulder's voice was
weary and bewildered.

"I like your fashion statement, Garfield boxers and a gun"

"Constantine..."

With his hands tucked into the pockets of his trench coat was a man that
Mulder had not seen for several years. "May I come in," Constantine
brushed by Mulder into the apartment.

"Yeah, sure... why not make your self at home"

Mulder studied the man making himself comfortable on his couch and
taking off his coat. It had been several years since Mulder had last
seen Constantine and the years had made there mark on the blond man's
face, especially in his blue eyes. Looking into John's eyes brought
thoughts of the past... hot thoughts. 'No, I don't want to go there,'
thought Mulder. It did not help that Constantine was leering at the
agent's near naked body.

"Are you going to put away that gun and how about offering me a drink,
I'm parched"

Waving his gun towards the kitchen Mulder headed for the bedroom "The
kitchen is over there, help yourself". Pulling on an old pair of jeans,
Mulder considered the handsome blond man with the cheeky grin, who was
in his kitchen and was making a racket opening and closing cupboard
doors in search of a clean glass.

******

He was a student at Oxford then, when he first met John Constantine.
John was in a band called Mucus Membrane. They were dreadful. Phoebe was
impressed, particularly with the tall blond with the blue grey eyes.
Phoebe was also thrilled when that good looking blond had went up to the
counter right next to her and Mulder to order a beer and then asked them
what they thought of their first set for that night. Phoebe gushed.
Mulder told him that he thought they sucked shit. Which earned him a
grin and an introduction, and Phoebe was ignored.

Later Phoebe, sick of being ignored left the pub with a husky Norwegian
backpacker. Mulder didn't even notice that he'd been ditched once again
by Phoebe. John said that there was going to be a party at a mate's
place when the band had finished up. John had his hand resting on top of
the counter, on top of Mulder's hand and he was rubbing the knuckles
with his thumb. Looking into Constantine's eyes and feeling something
delicious stir in his stomach Mulder agreed.

******

Mulder returned to his lounge room, now wearing jeans and T-shirt. John
was back on the couch and taking a long guzzle from a beer straight from
the bottle, he had given up on finding a clean glass. Mulder frowned,
funny that he could not remember having any beer in stock. "God, it's
been ages since I've seen you John and then you just turn up, why are
you here and how did you know where I lived?"

Grinning, "Did you miss me?"

"John..."

"I've come straight from Marcus Vallens' place, I assume you remember
him," Constantine was now serious. "Vallens called me up yesterday, he
was scared shitless. He seems to think there might be a demon on the
loose in Washington and he mentioned you. I was not expecting that...
you know I never would of seen you as becoming an FBI agent, it doesn't
suit you".

"A demon! You're full of it, Constantine," the agent was chuckling. Then
he recalled Vallens, 'Shit, the Blosdoe case' Mulder did not reveal his
thoughts on his face, but he knew Vallens. Mulder had approached Marcus
Vallens regarding the murder of Brian Blosdoe.

Saying Blosdoe was murdered was an understatement, Blosdoe was a mess
and Mulder found it hard to believe that the average human could have
done that sort of damage. Whoever or whatever killed Blosdoe would have
had to been unusually strong. Blosdoe was killed two weeks ago and
because nothing conclusive was found soon enough and Scully and Mulder
also had to go out of town on a more urgent case, the Blosdoe case had
to remain the business of the local police and unsolved until now. 'What
the hell does Constantine know about it,' thought Mulder.

"Mulder, where the body was found, what did you see. Was there any
occult like markings done in white or pink chalk?" Constantine watched
Mulder's face closely. Mulder was not very good at hiding what was on
his mind as he might of thought. Constantine loved watching those hazel
eyes, sometimes green eyes that changed colour with every thought and
emotion. He remembered in the past, leaning over the naked and younger
man and watching his eyes go through an amazing range of colours when
excitement was stirred. Constantine lowered his eyes to the agents lower
lip, 'irresistible' that's what he was thinking the first time he saw
Mulder and that lip, he wanted to suck on it then and he wanted to suck
on it now.

"John, I want to know what your involvement with Vallens is? Are you...
are you a part of the same cult as Vallens is a part of?" It had not
escaped Mulder that Constantine was now giving his lips all his
attention. Mulder licked his lower lip, for some reason he was feeling
kind of nervous. "I remember you being into all that magic crap. Fuck
John, how far did you get into that stuff and your still into it?"

"Bloody hell! No, do you really think I would have anything do with such
a prat as Vallens. And he isn't part of a cult, the guy was just really
scared and I have kinda gotten myself a reputation as someone who can
deal with certain esoteric situations. Mulder, I've seen things and been
places you wouldn't believe".

Mulder smiled with humour, humour directed at himself. "These days... I
don't know what to believe. Did I ever really know you that well, John".
He could almost laugh at Constantine's statement of things and places
that could not be believed he was sure he could dazzle John with a few
bazaar tales himself. But these days Mulder felt he did not know even
who to trust or what to believe. If Constantine so much as mentioned
aliens though, he would throw John out on his ass. He knew that he was
not going to hand his trust over to Constantine. Even with one of his
mottoes being 'trust no one', Mulder had still handed his trust over to
some people like a precious gift. Scully and even Skinner, he trusted
with his life. Krycek was a huge mistake. Never again.

Since coming into the living room, Mulder had been standing near the
leather couch that Constantine was reclining in. The agent was looking
down at the other man with an intense gaze. Constantine reached up and
took a hold of Mulder's wrist to pull him down onto the couch next to
him. Keeping a hold of the younger man's hand, even though he was making
a feeble attempt to remove his hand from John's firm clasp, "You know me
well enough," said Constantine in a voice pitched low, the echo of smoke
and whisky making his voice rough.

Mulder was momentarily shocked by Constantine's actions. John was
stroking his whole hand, from his bony wrist, down to his thumb and over
his knuckles. The subtle stroking was causing strong delicious currents
to flow up his arm and through his entire body. This, Mulder did not
want to fight, it just felt so good. It had been a long time since he
had made love with a man. It was a craving that he had ignored for a
long time. The risk to his work was too great. Thoughts of the hole in
his ceiling came to mind.

"I need to know what happened with Brian Blosdoe, if there is a demon...
we're in deep shit. I can help, I know how to deal with such things.
I've had years of experience" John continued his persuasion in his rough
and sexy voice.

"HmmmÉ" Mulder was too distracted to answer back, but he was listening.
It would help to solve the case if he had John's expertise. "Tell me
about the magic, how far did you go with it?"

'Fuck, how far did I go with it,' thought John. "Too far, but it's what
I do, it's who I am" there was pain in his voice, old pain, old regrets.
Constantine moved his hands from Mulder's hand to the agent's waist,
gliding his hands upward and removing the other man's T-shirt.



TBC

Thoughts? Ideas? A kick up the bum? sonjablue@optushome.com.au