From: RAnton1013 <ranton1013@aol.com>
Date: 22 Apr 1999 00:34:44 GMT
Subject: World Without End: Book One (1/12) by Rachel Anton *possible repost*


TITLE: World Without End: Book One (7/12)
AUTHOR: Rachel Anton
E-MAIL: RAnton1013@aol.com

xxxxxx

For the first time in a very long time she was afraid
for her life. 

She felt safe most of the time. Protected.  

Nothing could have prepared her for this. Snippets
of her old life came back to her: her FBI training
("Don't shoot to kill unless your life is threatened"),
her father's military background ("Why did the
soldiers kill that man, daddy?", "Sometimes,
Starbuck, in a war, it's kill or be killed...")

Kill or be killed.

Surely that had to be considered. These men,
these...these traitors, they would kill her, take away
her home, her life, her work, if she didn't strike first. 

(Alex..."Aim for the heart, Dana. It's the only way to
kill them.")

Black blood flowing, reminding her that these are
not humans. Once...once upon a time humans who
somehow were turned into this. Chose this. Have to
remember they chose it. 

No slaves. He told her there were no slaves. No red
blood and she believes because she does not see it.
Still, it becomes difficult to tell in the chaos. 

Running and shooting at the same time. They have
so many ways to kill. So many.

She seeks him out and they make their moves,
attacking the primary targets, taking what they need.
He is easy and comfortable, laughing and it puts her
at ease until she remembers the bomb.

The compound is set to explode in five minutes.

Four...

She has to drag him away with blood-stained hands.

xxxxxx

We won tonight. I think we won something big.

We learned recently that a drone colony was being
established very close to our territory. It was
spreading fast and was bound to encroach on our
land if we didn't do something to stop it. We would
have been utterly destroyed. If you stand in the way
of development you get squashed like a bug.

We had two choices. Retreat even further north or
attack before they had a chance to get themselves
established. It took me about five minutes to make
the decision. Scully told me she thought I liked
playing Cowboys and Indians a little too much for
my own good. I told her the Indians would have
moved and that's why they lost. 

I still can't believe that we won. Blew the whole
fucking place to kingdom come. I don't know if it
would have been possible without her. It never
ceases to amaze me how much intelligence, tactical
knowledge and brute force is contained in that
singular, tiny body. 

I didn't want her to come. She insisted. It was her
first raid and, hopefully, her last. I found it
somewhat difficult to concentrate with her there.
Unsettling to realize that I was more concerned with
her safety than my own. And more than a little
disturbing to realize that I would have sacrificed this
whole place if it meant keeping her alive. 

Still, it was something else to see her like that.

The combination of left-over adrenaline, the thrill of
having won, the knowledge that I've cheated death
yet again and the memory of Dana kicking some
serious ass has left me in a very strange state indeed. 

When we get back to the compound we are met
with an awaiting victory party. There is merriment
and celebration in the recreation areas and I am
tempted to stay and join in the festivities but I am
shaking so hard I think I'd be better off alone right
now. I don't think I can talk and interact on a normal
level tonight. I don't think I can drink and laugh and
toast our success. I need another kind of release.

As I walk the deserted hallway back to my quarters I
hear them singing in the distance. Singing. Jesus
Christ what a strange world. 

Then I hear the click of small footsteps behind me.
Oh Scully, not tonight. I don't think I can stand it. 

And yet when I reach the door I find myself holding
it open for her, inviting her to join me against my
better judgment. We step inside and I don't bother
turning on the light. The moon is bright through the
windows. 

I feel like my fucking insides are about to rip
through my skin but I manage to carry out the
mundane task of opening the refrigerator door and
taking out an old, stolen bottle of champagne, saved
all these years for just such an occasion. 

I turn to face her for the first time, bottle in hand
and lunatic grin no doubt plastered on my face,
about to ask her to join me in a private celebration
and I am stopped dead in my tracks. 

She is leaning against the kitchen table, bent slightly
at the stomach and trembling even harder than I am.
It doesn't seem to be from excitement though. Her
expression is haunted and her hair and clothing are
soaked with blood and dirt. She looks like she's in
shock. It occurs to me for the first time that she
might have been hurt at some point and I drop the
bottle on the counter and move to stand in front of
her. 

"Are you all right? Did you get hurt, Dana?"

She shakes her head and mutters,
"Never...killed...so...many..."

Of course. I should have known she'd feel this way.
She still has a little bit of a heart. 

"God, Krycek, all those...living, breathing...what if
I...what if we...oh God."

I watch tears fall down her cheeks and I want so
badly to be able to touch her, to hold her and make
her feel better, feel something besides what she is
feeling now. I can't though because my heart is still
pounding through my rib cage and my dick is rock
hard for her and I don't know if I'd be able to stop at
one touch of comfort this time. 

"We did what we had to do. You didn't do anything
wrong. And you were very brave." 

God, even my voice is shaking. I feel like I'm going
to explode into a million pieces.  

"What if...what if we made mistakes? What if I...I
could have been in that colony, Alex. I *was* in that
colony. Or one just like it anyway."

"They didn't have any slaves. All the people there
chose that life. We didn't kill anyone that didn't
deserve to die." 

She flinches and I suppose I've chosen the wrong
words yet again. God, Dana, after everything you've
seen how can you still have so much fucking
compassion? 

"Those people were working for the motherfuckers
that made you a slave, Dana. The same bastards that
killed Mulder."

She sighs and finally looks up at my face. She's so
beautiful it almost hurts to look back. 

"I suppose it's always going to be like this isn't it? I
mean, I suppose I should get used to it. The same
way I did when I worked at the Bureau. I remember
how I felt the first time I killed someone in the line
of duty back then. It wasn't as...it wasn't like this but
it was bad."

"I know, it's...it's a strange feeling..."

I'm not sure what to tell her about it because I am so
far beyond the point she's at right now I can hardly
relate to it at all. I do have a dim recollection of
feeling sorrow and guilt the first time I killed another
living being, the first time I killed a whole bunch of
living beings, but it's all so long ago now, so very far
away. 

"This is a war though, Dana. And you're on the right
side. You have to know that you're doing the right
thing."

Please know that. Please don't leave.

"Not just for vengeance, Dana but for the future as
well. You're a hero. I don't know if you really realize
that."

She stares at me silently and I realize for the first
time how heavily we're both breathing. I'm still
trembling violently, from the inside out. And in the
pregnant quiet between the two of us I can hear
them still singing and shouting outside. 

"You were very brave too, Alex. I don't think I
could have...I mean, I wouldn't have been able to do
any of this without you there."

"Gimme a break," I snort.  "You could have taken
the whole bunch out single handed I'll bet." 

"No, I'm serious. I never would have done any of
this, any of this work or...God, I'd still be a slave if it
weren't for you. And since then, I've been...you've
been..."

She bites her lip nervously, searching for the words. 

"You're so beautiful," I blurt out carelessly, no
longer even caring how she might react. She should
have known better than to come to me when I'm
feeling like this. 

"Alex...You make me feel...God, you make me
feel..."

She doesn't finish but I can see everything in her
eyes. I make her feel beautiful. I make her feel
strong. I make her feel like she can do anything. 

Or, I could just be delusional.

"I'm so proud of you, Dana..." I mumble and then
stop, realizing how ridiculous that sounds. Like I'm
her father or her mentor or something. Proud isn't
quite the right word. Astonished maybe. Awed. And
right now, Jesus, I don't even know if I could put it
to words. I realize suddenly that I'm standing much
closer to her than I was five minutes ago and that if
she doesn't get the hell out of here I'm gonna get
even closer. I can't stop it. And I have no idea if she
would want me to stop it. I've been trying so hard
for so long to stop it. Just stop it already. I can't
afford it. And yet I need it so desperately. It's like
she's cracked something open, something inside me
that's been closed and callused over for so long I
didn't even think it existed anymore. 

"Dana, I don't...I think, I think you should probably
go now," I choke out, silently begging her not to.

"I can't," she says simply and I feel like the words
snap the cord that's been holding me in place for
four years now. I close the final distance between us
and my body is so close to hers that I can almost feel
the pounding in her chest and the tremors running
through her. "I don't...want to go. I need...I can't be
alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" I ask, offering one last chance to
bail before I give up any hope of restraint, trying to
communicate through my expression and my body
and my voice just what she will be accepting if she
stays here. "Dana, if you stay I..."

"Alex..."

Her left hand releases its death grip on the edge of
my kitchen table and slowly starts to raise and move
in the general direction of my face. A terrifically
small gesture but right now, it's enough to send me
flying past the point of no return. Before her palm
even reaches my cheek, I grab her wrist and shove
my entire body fully against hers. Her eyes widen in
surprise and she gasps quietly. 

"Alex..." she whispers again and then we are lunging
at each other, kissing each other so hard that I can't
even breathe. 

I've gotten pretty used to having only one fully
functional hand but it's moments like this when I
really miss the other one. I can almost feel it,
twitching with the need to touch her skin, as I slide
under her shirt and skim the softness of her belly
with my fingers. She moans softly against my lips
and I shove my tongue down her throat.  

She's so fucking far away down there. I can't stand
it. I nudge her against the table and she pulls herself
on top of it, bringing her head up so that it's a little
more level with mine. I reach down between her
thighs, pulling them apart and planting myself inside
the warm shelter of her legs. Too many places to
touch, too many needs, too too much...

She readjusts herself clumsily, grinding her crotch
against mine, unintentionally I think, and buries her
fingers in my hair. I feel like grabbing them and
dragging them over every inch of my body. 

I run my mouth down her chin and over her neck,
tasting the strange mixture of salty sweat and other
people's blood and then back, over the jagged scar
behind her ear. Her legs wrap tightly around my
waist and this time the friction between us is
planned. It should feel good but right now, it's
torture. It hurts.

Then she reaches between us and runs her hand
along the bulge in my jeans and I know it's gotta
stop right there. 

Well, not exactly there. Not until I rut against her
like a horny puppy humping some poor unsuspecting
leg.  

"Dana..." I groan agonizingly into her ear and at the
same time, knock the book and the dishes from this
morning's breakfast off the table behind her. The
shrill of glass breaking on the floor mixes with the
continuing sounds of merriment outside and the beat
inside me, thrumming so loudly that I can hear it. 

I push her down across the surface of the table and
pull at her shirt, completely aggravated and feeling
an oppressive restriction. Forget the hand I lost, I
need about twelve more right now. One to rip the
shirt off her back, one to touch her face, one her
breast, one to strip her jeans away, another to
plunge between her legs, still more to get me out of
what I'm wearing. 

She pulls her top over her head and tosses it to the
side. Oh yeah. She's got hands too. And I've still got
a mouth dammit. I latch that particular asset onto
her nipple through the cotton material of her bra and
she moans and arches towards me. 

"Alex...take...I....oh...."

Yeah, you tell me what to do, Dana. I don't care if
you're incoherent. Just keep talking to me, keep
reminding me that you want this. 

I run my tongue over her stomach and her trembling
shifts to another level. We're both still shaking so
damn much we can barely keep it together. 

My mouth and right hand work together to undo the 
fly of her jeans and I sink to my knees before her,
pulling them off all the way. All the way down to her
damn combat boots. Motherfucking Christ! I feel
like screaming. 

But I don't. And I don't even consider trying to sit
here patiently untying those motherfuckers either. I
reach up again and yank her underwear down to her
knees and bury my face between her thighs. 

Holy fuck. She tastes fucking amazing. And the
smell...good Goddamn. I don't even bother with any
preliminaries, teasing, nothing. She's dripping wet
and grinding into me and I think that kind of thing
would only annoy the shit out of her right now so I
head right for home base. I flick my tongue over her
clit nice and hard and she grabs the back of my head
and cries.

I do it again, harder, and again and again as fast as I
can fucking manage it and she starts squirming and
panting and trying to spread her legs farther apart. I
kind of like this. I don't even think I wanna take off
her shoes anymore. 

I need her to come though. Right fucking now
before I explode in my pants. 

I slide my finger inside her and, God, it's so hot and
wet in there, I can't even stand it. My dick is insanely
jealous. 

"Aleeexxx," she moans and the sound goes straight
through me like a liquid aphrodisiac. "I can't...I
wa...oh God, fuck me, Alex. FUCK ME!"

She pulls my hair and I lift my head from her and
look up, just to make sure I heard her right. She
nods and I recognize the urgency in her eyes. It's the
same desperation I feel. 

I stand up and undo my own pants, pulling them
down to my own ankles and realize the same
problem exists on my side of the street. No fucking
time. We're gonna have to fuck the same way we do
everything. With our boots on.

"Turn over," I tell her roughly. She stands up and
turns her back to me and I press her down so that
she's bent over the table. I guide my cock to her with
my hand and finally, finally enter her in one quick,
violent jerk.

It's so fucking tight in there that for a delirious,
panicked moment, I'm afraid that in my haste, I've
actually gotten the wrong hole by accident. But no,
it's wet and soft and, God, just amazing. Too
amazing actually. 

"Alex?"

God, I'm just standing here like a fucking retard. I'm
afraid to move. 

Okay, deep breath, focus, concentrate, eyes on the
wall, this is probably the only time you're ever gonna
get to do this.

I manage to regain enough control to slide almost
completely back out with impressive patience and
then slowly back in. Yep, it's as easy as that. Just
gotta keep doing that for long enough to avoid total
humiliation. 

I grip her waist in my hand and successfully
complete another smooth, even stroke and I think
maybe I can do this.

That's when she starts making this strange, mewling
sound and arching her back, pressing herself up
against me. I look down and see that her little feet
aren't even touching the ground. Her legs are just
dangling there in mid air over the side of the table.
She's so little. It's so easy to forget how small and
delicate she is. Then I see the mark on her lower
back. A tattoo? She's got a tattoo. God, who is this
woman? Who was she? 

"Mmm...more Alex, harder," she groans, tightening
her vaginal muscles around me, pulling me deeper
and tighter. God, she's so fucking tight. Fuck. Okay.
I give up.  

"God, Alex...God," she pants when I start pounding
into her, all attempts at decorum and control
completely abandoned. 

"Yeah? Tell me. Tell me, Dana," I grunt through
short breaths, draping my body over hers and
pressing my lips against her ear.  

"I...I can't...."

"Yeah you can. Tell me, tell me it feels good. Tell
me you want it, Dana. Tell me you want me."

"I wa...I..." She turns her head to the side so that her
lips are close to mine and I can see her eyes. 

"You fucking ego...maniac...God!"

I guess she's wondering if I'm not doing this solely
to hear her telling me how great I am. It wouldn't be
the first time I'd been accused of such a thing. 

I slam into her, purposefully hard this time, and grab
her hair in my fist, pulling her face further back
towards mine and pushing my tongue brutally
between her lips. She sucks on it at the same time as
her vaginal muscles tighten around my cock and we
continue to eye each other accusingly. Then I feel
her teeth digging into me and I pull back with a
thoroughly unmanly yelp. She smiles coyly and rubs
her ass in a circle against my belly. 

"Tell me," I demand again, thrusting with ever
increasing speed and force, causing the table to
shake as badly as I am shaking, almost trying to hurt
her into telling me something. Anything about what
she's feeling. Of course, in the process, I'm bringing
myself closer and closer to orgasm and pretty soon
there's not going to be any turning back. 

"Why...why don't you tell me Alex?" 

She must be kidding. There is no way in hell that she
couldn't know. 

"Tell *me* how it feels."

I don't think she understands. I don't wanna know
how my dick feels inside her. I mean I do, but more
than that, I wanna know that she's wanted this the
way I have. I wanna know that it's me. All me. 

"It feels...Jesus, Dana, it feels like dying."

Fuck. That didn't make any sense at all and now I'm
really, really close. I reach down to where her crotch
is pressed against the sharp edge of the table and
realize that that's probably been hurting her. I push
between and grind my fingers against her clit, taking
the pain onto my hand. 

"Mmmyeeahhh," she whimpers and her hands grope
around the table, looking for something to grab. 

"Yeah? Good?"

"I ca...I can't...I don't..."

"TELL ME!"

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I can't stop. Fucking shit. I can't fucking stop and I
can't make it any better than it is because I have
absolutely no control left and my ears are ringing
and I can't even fucking see straight and I can't stop
jerking into her like a fucking lunatic. 

I clutch hard between her legs and scream out some
incoherent nonsensical word as I come into her for
what seems like an eternity. When I finally reach the
point at which there could be not a drop of semen
conceivably left in my body, it stops. It finally
fucking stops and I realize that the woman I worship
is probably completely disgusted with me right now. 

Way to fuck up a good thing.

xxxxxx

end chapter 7

TITLE: World Without End: Book One (8/12)
AUTHOR: Rachel Anton
E-MAIL: RAnton1013@aol.com
xxxxxx

I used to believe in things like fate. I never would
have admitted it but at one time I thought Mulder
and I were "fated" to be together. That he was my
destiny. I think he was in some way. He must have
been because even though Alex just fucked me, I
still feel Mulder inside me, living my life along with
me. Me and Mulder just got fucked by Alex Krycek.
That's honestly how I feel and I don't know what to
think about that. 

I don't know if I really believe in fate anymore
because I don't think there is a force in the universe
that could have planned this. 

"Dana...shit..." he pants into my ear, collapsed on
top of me, still almost completely clothed. "I...I
wanna...I wanna do better. Come to bed with me."

He wants me to come. He wants to make me come.
I don't know if I can. I don't know if I want to. I feel
like every nerve ending is jangled and raw. It's all
just too much. 

He pulls off of me and buttons up his pants and I
turn back over to look at him. Jesus, he's still
wearing his fucking leather jacket. 

But somehow, despite all the clothes, he looks
naked standing there, his face flushed and sweaty
and his eyes pleading silently. He holds out his hand
to me and I take it and pull up to a standing
position. 

"Come to bed with me."

He wants to lay down with me, to hold me, to make
love to me after this frenzied fuck. We're both still
shaking. God, I think I do want that. I think I need it
more than anything right now. And for Christ's sake,
it's what I've been telling him he should want. Now
he does. He's asking me to let him in. He's asking for
permission to let me inside him. I should be
congratulating him for his attempt at a mature, adult
relationship. A caring, loving relationship. But I'm so
afraid. Sex is sex but this...this would be intimacy.
I've been so careful for so long. God, Mulder, what
should we do? 

"I thought you didn't like to do it in beds."

He flinches and I immediately feel stupid for having
said that. 

"Who told you that?"

I don't answer because I don't want to betray a
confidence and I also don't want to talk about it
anymore. It was the wrong thing to say.

"Roseanne? Did she tell you that?"

He looks angry. Shit. What is wrong with me?

"Nevermind Alex. I..."

"No, no it's okay. She's right. I don't. Not usually.
I'd like to with you Dana. Please."

Please?? I don't think I've *ever* heard Alex say
please before. Not even "please pass the peas".
Never. 

My words from that first night at the pool come
back to me. What are you so afraid of? Take the
chance. 

He takes my hand and starts pulling on it like a little
kid. 

"Please. Come to bed with me."

And I do. Oh, Mulder, I hope this is what you would
have wanted. 

When we get to his bedroom we both finally take
our clothes off in a strangely shy and awkward
ceremony, our backs turned to each other. I crawl
under the covers and look over at him still standing
there. The only light in the room is coming in
through the window. The moon is full tonight and
the ground is covered with snow so it's actually
pretty bright. He's really quite beautiful. I don't
know if I ever noticed just how beautiful before
now. But there's something wrong, something that's
not him.

"Take it off," I tell him as he starts walking towards
the bed. 

"Are...are you sure?" He looks scared for some
reason. As if I'd never seen him before. 

"Yes. I want to see you, Alex. Just you. Like in the
pool." 

He smiles nervously and starts removing his plastic
arm and I distract myself by looking out the
window. I know he doesn't like me to watch him
doing this although I don't really understand why.
When I hear the thud of the prosthetic being placed
on his dresser I turn back to him and sigh. Much
much better.

God, he really is a gorgeous man. Even without the
arm he's got a body like a Greek God. Broad
shoulders, well muscled chest and stomach with just
the right amount of hair, his skin so light it almost
shimmers, strong, muscular legs. God, is this mine?

I've taken the left side of the bed which means he
has to climb in on my right. We lie there on our
backs for a little while, staring up at the ceiling and
half listening to the continuing revelry outside. It
sounds like they're all getting pretty wasted out
there. I can hear him breathing next to me though,
even over the din. He's breathing very loudly, very
quickly. He's still shaking. 

I don't really know what I'm supposed to be doing
or saying. I haven't been in a situation like this in
over a decade. 

"What are you thinking about, Alex?"

"Hmm? Um, nothing really."

"Nothing?" We just had sex and he's thinking about
nothing? I find that very hard to believe. 
   
"I was just...you know, it's funny. I don't ever really
want to have sex with people in my bed because I'm
afraid if I do, they'll want to stay and now I'm afraid
to do it with you here because I'm afraid you'll want
to leave." 

"Why would I want to leave?"

He doesn't answer and I turn over on my side and
prop my head on my elbow so I can look at him. I
reach out and wipe some of the moisture from his
brow with the tips of my fingers. His eyes slip shut
and he shivers lightly. 

"Alex? Why? Why do you think that?"

He sighs and when his eyes open he looks angry
again. Not at me though. At himself perhaps for
feeling an inkling of insecurity. 

"Dana, you're...I dunno, you're just so goddamn
perfect. It's actually a little aggravating. You
deserve...I mean you must want...I don't know. I'm
not a very nice man Dana." 

 What is it about men that turns them into post coital
amnesiacs? Doesn't he remember that I've known
him for four years? Has he forgotten that he didn't
just pick me up in some bar somewhere? I would
think that after all this time, he knows me well
enough to know that I wouldn't just jump into this
without knowing exactly who and what he is. 

"Nice is overrated. I prefer passion. Besides, nice
doesn't always mean good. You can be a very nice
person and still not be a very good person and vice
versa."

He laughs harshly as if to say he isn't either of those
things and then he turns his head slightly to the left,
finally looking at me. I've never seen such doubt in
his eyes. 

"Dana, I'm not even...I mean I'm...I'm not whole.
Not a whole man."

He glances down to the place where his arm used to
be and grimaces. 

"God, Dana. What the hell are you doing to me? I've
never felt so fucking insecure in my life."

Great. That's just the effect I love to have on a man.
What is it about me? 

I look at what's left of his arm carefully for the first
time really. I've never been this close before. It's just
a few inches from my face. I still don't really know
all that much about how it happened. Just what
Mulder told me and he wasn't actually there. I can
tell just from looking at it this close that it wasn't
exactly a clean cut. It reminds me of pictures from
medical school of farmers and factory workers
who'd gotten their arms chewed off by haywire
machinery. The skin is tight and shiny. I'll bet it still
hurts him a lot of the time. 

"Alex, being whole has nothing to do with having a
particular kind of body. It's about what kind of
person you are. It's not the specific parts but how
they fit together. And you...you're beautiful and
complete, Alex. Everywhere." 

I brush my fingers lightly over the remnant of his
arm and he shudders under my touch. 

"Is it very sensitive?"

He nods and looks down at me with an almost
panicked expression. I place a featherlight kiss on
the stump and he gasps and squeezes his eyes shut. 

"Does it still hurt you?" I ask, running my lips over
him in a rain of kisses.

"Not...not now," he grunts through clenched teeth. I
start lapping at him, working over the tightened
flesh with my tongue and I notice that he's rapidly
hardening again underneath the sheet. 

"Does it feel good, Alex?"

He takes a few deep breaths and then just moans. I
guess it does. I keep licking him there and start
moving my hand over his chest as it rises and falls. 

"Will you tell me?" I whisper to him.

"Tell you...?"

"Tell me how. Tell me what happened to you."

His body tenses even more and I wonder if this was
a good idea. I just feel like I need to know for some
reason. 

"Didn't Mulder tell you?"

"He told me what he knew. He wasn't there, Alex. I
want to know what it was like for you." I stroke his
cheek with my fingers and place another open
mouthed kiss on his stump and he actually squirms.
He actually whimpers. And I decide I want to hear a
lot more of that sound.

"Please tell me." I kiss my way up his shoulder and
onto his neck. "Please." My lips close over his
earlobe and I suck lightly and rake my nails down
the inside of his right arm. "Please." Finally a lick
behind the ear, as per Roseanne's suggestion. He
doesn't growl. In fact the childlike whine that comes
from the back of his throat is about the furthest thing
from a growl I can imagine. But I like it even better.
"Please."

I feel his fingers tangling in my hair and suddenly
he's pulling my face away from his ear and then he's
kissing me hard and wet. His intentions are clear. It's
obvious he'd rather fuck again than talk about this.
And although he's making it mighty tempting with
his hot, passion-filled kiss, I'm still overwhelmed
with the need to hear his story. 

I pull away from his mouth and he groans in protest. 

"Tell me first."

He laughs and shakes his head.

"Upryamuy."

He's called me that enough times for me to know
what it means by now. Stubborn. 

"You bet."

"I don't really remember that much, Dana. It was all
so long ago and I wasn't completely in my right mind
to begin with."

"Just tell me what you remember."

He takes a deep breath and starts playing with my
hair, twisting it around his fingers and combing it
over my shoulders.

"I remember that it was very cold. I was kind of a
mess when it happened. I hadn't eaten or slept really
in a few days so I wasn't physically in the best
condition. And there were a lot of them so I
couldn't...I mean I tried to fight but..."

He sighs and his hand tightens in my hair. I sense a
bit of self reproach. Could he possibly think there's
something wrong with him for not being able to
prevent it? Then again, isn't that exactly the way I
would think if it were me? Isn't that what I've been
torturing myself over for four years now? 

"Anyway, I fell asleep by the fire. I was just so
tired...They woke me up and I was so disoriented...
they managed to hold me down and restrain me. I
didn't completely realize what was going to happen
until I saw the one guy holding a knife in the fire.
Then I finally realized the significance of the fact
that they were all missing their left arms, what they
were planning on doing with that knife... I think the
realization was almost enough to make me pass out
actually. But strangely enough, I didn't." 

I remember a time, strapped to a chair, a madman's
prisoner, looking at the needle in his hand, knowing
that he planned on lobotomizing me. I remember the
moment of realization and the sickening terror I felt.
Except I got away. I was saved. By Mulder. Alex
didn't have anyone to come to his rescue. Not that I
would have said he deserved to be saved at the time.
I remember when Mulder told me the story I was
just so glad it hadn't been him that I hadn't thought
of Krycek at all. It seemed to be a good punishment.
But no one deserves to be brutalized like that. No
one deserves to be so cold and alone and frightened. 

"Alex..." I mumble into his chest and he squeezes me
to him.

"I don't know how long it actually took. I think I
blacked out after about fifteen minutes. Something
must have scared them away though because when I
woke up they were gone. And um...so was my arm.
It was nighttime and it was probably about 40
below. Probably a good thing actually. I think the
cold froze the blood a bit, otherwise I probably
would have bled to death. I couldn't really move so I
just kind of lay there all night drifting in and out of
consciousness. I was sure I wasn't going to make it
to see the sun come up. I think it was the longest
night of my life. The next thing I remember is
waking up in this seedy hospital bed...Dana, why are
you crying?"

God, am I? I guess I am. There are tears all over my
face and his chest.

"I don't...I'm just...I'm glad that you're here," I croak
out and for some reason speaking just makes it
worse. The burn in the back of my throat gets
stronger and I start shaking.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even told you. It's not
the most pleasant bedtime story in the world."

I can't even talk. All I can do is sniffle and shake my
head.

"Don't cry, Dana. I can't...I can't stand it."

He pulls my head back to his face and starts kissing
my cheeks, wiping the tears with the tip of his
tongue.

"Shh, don't cry. It's okay."

He kisses my lips again, softly, sweetly this time. His
hand runs down the side of my face and over my
neck and then finally settles on the curve of my hip.

"I've never told anybody that whole story before
Dana," he whispers into my mouth. "I don't know
what it is about you."

His hand glides lower, down over the outside of my
thigh and then back up the inside. He rolls over onto
his side so that he's facing me fully and so that I can
feel him, still hard even after reliving that horrific
memory, and pressing against my stomach. His
gentle kisses and soft caresses soothe me and I stop
crying eventually. 

And somehow, after awhile, I'm beyond being
soothed and start moving rapidly towards being
aroused again. He seems to sense the change in me
and adjusts his attentions accordingly, kissing a little
deeper, touching a little more aggressively. Still, he's
surprisingly tender. I'm starting to feel something
building in me, something that started what seems
like hours ago now and was never really properly
finished. 

I wrap my leg over his and he pushes his thigh
forward a little. The tiny hint of contact is enough to
make me moan and pull him between my legs. I start
rubbing myself up and down his thigh and he laughs
against my neck as he licks it. 

"Feel better?"

I nod, feeling his hand on my ass, moving lower and
forward and, God, his finger is inside of me. I moan
again and clutch the back of his head with both
hands, pressing his mouth harder against my neck.
He starts sliding his finger in and out of me at a
terrifyingly slow speed, so gently, so softly it almost
makes me start crying again. 

"I wanna make you feel good, Dana. Does that feel
good?"

"Yeah," I whimper out. Not good enough though.
Not enough. I'm suddenly all the way back to the
point I was at on that kitchen table, ready to explode
but not getting quite enough stimulation. 

I roll over onto my back, pulling him along with me
so that he's lying on top of me. So that he's lying
between my legs. I arch up, feeling him pressing
against me and it feels so good I think I might die. 

"Dana...God, Dana. What do you want? Tell me
what to do."

I don't even know. I can't even think. All I can do is
groan with frustration and grind up against him.
How did I get so over stimulated so fast again? 

"I...I want you inside me," I mumble, thinking maybe
this time it will be enough but he shakes his head. 

"No you don't. Not yet."

And then he starts kissing his way over my chest,
stopping to suckle my nipples for a short while and
then continuing down, down, down. Over my
stomach and then in a line down that hypersensitive
place between my belly button and the beginning of
my pubic hair. He dips down between my widely
spread legs and licks the inside of my thigh which 
makes me want to scream and then he looks up at
me with a smile.

"You're so wet. It's all over your legs," he tells me,
as if I don't realize I'm horny as hell or something.  

"Al-eexx..."

"Shh, you'll be better soon."

Unlike before, he doesn't head right for paydirt this
time. Instead he runs his tongue around the area
between the top of my thighs and my outer lips. A
whole circle, and then another one, slightly closer.
And again and again in ever tightening, teasing
circles which are making my head pound and my
eyes cross and when I look down he's just smiling
away and then finally...FINALLY, his tongue is on
my clit. My thighs clamp around his neck and we
both moan at the same time. 

I can't believe how close I am. I don't think I fully
appreciated this man's talent when he was doing this
before. It was all so quick and confusing, I didn't
even completely realize what was happening. But
this time I am fully aware of every nuance, every
sensation. He knows. Oh God, he knows exactly
what to do and he does it so well. I watch him
because it's just such an amazing sight and he
watches me back. His eyes, I never noticed how
beautiful and expressive his eyes are. 

"You taste so good," he whispers and I jerk
upwards, needing his mouth back right away.

"Duhu...Don't! Don't stop!"

God, that was so loud. How did I get like this? He
laughs at my outburst and then gets back to work.

This time he's really going at it, fast and hard and
then he slides two of his fingers back inside me and
starts pumping into me and suddenly I feel very
light, like I'm floating away. Then my whole body
clenches and I feel a wave of pleasure so immense
that I almost can't stand it and then another and
another. 

I can't believe that something so good could come
out of something so bad.

xxxxxx

end chapter 8


TITLE: World Without End: Book One (9/12)
AUTHOR: Rachel Anton
E-MAIL: RAnton1013@aol.com

xxxxxx

 I really hope that's the noise she makes when she
has an orgasm and not the one she makes when she's
in extreme anguish. It must be the orgasm one
because in between her screaming bloody murder
she's grinding her crotch into my face and pulling my
hair and her whole body is jerking all over the place
like she just got electrocuted.

Damn. I know I'm good but I didn't think I was
*that* good. 

As soon as I crawl back up to lie next to her though,
to hold her and bask in the glory of my sexual
prowess, my confidence falls through the floor. She's
crying again. And laughing and shaking and as soon
as I get off her she sits up and curls up into a ball,
her knees against her chest, and her arms wrapped
around herself. 

"Dana? God, are you okay?"

 I touch her shoulder lightly and she actually fucking
flinches. Christ, what the hell did I do now? 

"Dana, please talk to me. Did I hurt you or
something?"

 She starts giggling and tears flow over her face. 

"Was it bad?"

She looks at me like I just grew a second head and
shakes her head emphatically. Her eyes are wide as
saucers. She's so fucking beautiful. I just want to
hold her. I don't understand why she's freaking the
fuck out on me. 

"It was...Alex...God..."

"It was what? Please talk to me, baby, you're scaring
me."

I try to touch her again and she slides further away
from me.

"I can't...I...God, I'm sorry. I just...it's just been
so...long."

Tell me about it woman. Jesus. She seems to not be
crying anymore but she's shivering and rubbing her
arms over her legs. 

"Are you cold? Come under the blanket with me."

I pull the blanket over myself and manage to touch
her without making her cry again. She lies down and
curls up against me and I reach out to hold her but
she turns over and then back and then
back again.

"Dana?"

"God, it's just been soooooo long!"

She laughs again and I start to feel a little better. I
start to feel like maybe she's just happy.

"How long, Dana?"

"God, I don't even know. It's probably been...well,
since I had an orgasm with another human being in
the room I'd say it's probably been close to fifteen
years now."

Fifteen whats? 

"You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious." She wipes her eyes and settles
down next to me. She throws her arm over my chest
and kisses the side of my neck. "Thank you, Alex."

"Fifteen years?!" 

I just cannot get past this. It's inconceivable. 

"Yes, fifteen years. Can we not dwell on my pathetic
excuse for a sex life please."

"I'm sorry, Dana. I just can't even imagine...I mean,
have you been with anybody? I mean has anybody
tried?"

"Yes and no."

God, that's the worst possible answer. 

"Christ, that's pathetic. Dana, you deserve to have a
fucking army of sex slaves whose sole purpose in life
is getting you off."

"I didn't want an army."

Right. She wanted Mulder. And Mulder thought she
deserved something better and so she got something
worse. What a fucking fool. At least he probably
would have been able to make her come. 

"Well, now you've got an army of one."

She smiles and hitches her leg over mine and I start
tracing patterns on her thigh with my fingers. I want
to go a little higher but I don't want her to start
wigging on me.

"Can I do it again, Dana?"

"What?"

"I wanna make you come again. Will you let me?" 

I move my hand around to the inside of her thigh
and stroke her skin lightly. She shivers and pulls my
hand away, puts it back on the outside of her leg.

"I can't Alex. It's too...it would hurt I think if you
even tried." 

"Well, okay. Not now. But soon. You've got a lot of
orgasms to make up for, young lady. And I intend to
make catching you up my life's work." 

"Mmm, sounds like a plan."

She buries her head in my chest and I run my fingers
through her hair, fanning it out so that it covers me
like another blanket. God, I love that hair. 

"What about you Alex?" she murmurs against me.
"Are you...I mean, was it all right?"

All right? She's got to be joking. 

"Dana, how can you even ask?"

"Well, last time I asked you said you felt like you
were dying. That's not really a terrific feeling." 

"That's a compliment, Dana. Trust me."

"How? I mean, if I took out my gun and shot you
right now, you're saying it would feel the same as
having sex with me? How's that a compliment?"

"It's...I don't really mean it's the same thing. I mean,
it's just the same in that it's so...so...I guess so
difficult to describe really."

She laughs and shakes her head and I almost moan
out loud at the feel of her silky skin and hair rubbing
against my chest. 

"What?"

"I don't know, Alex, it's just funny. I mean you can
get up in front of hundreds of people, tell them what
they're gonna do and how they're gonna do it, right
down to when they can pee that day, and one roll in
the proverbial hay with me and you're speechless. I
think it's adorable."

Adorable? God, it must have been a million years
since this woman's gotten laid if she's calling *me*
adorable. I've never been called adorable in my
entire life. Not even by my mother.

"Adorable?

"Yes, you're adorable. And you know what else is
adorable?"

"Hmm?"

Out of absolutely nowhere I feel her fist tighten
around my cock, which, without my real knowledge
or concern, seems to have been hard this entire time. 

"This," she says with an evil tone as she starts to
stroke me. 

"Th...that?"

"Mmm, well maybe adorable's not quite the right
word. I do adore it though. I didn't really get a good
look at it until now. Not hard anyway. I mean I felt
it. Inside me. But it has been a long time. I wasn't
sure if it felt bigger than it actually was."

"Uh..."

Is she really talking about my dick? This is the most
surreal night ever. God, that voice. She has got the
most amazingly hot voice sometimes. 

"I think it might actually be even bigger than it felt
though. God Alex, it's so thick. I can't even get my
whole hand around it. Look."

Oh Jesus. I can't look. If I look I think I'm gonna
come and if I come she might stop talking about
how wonderful my cock is and that would really
upset me right now. 

"Smuh...small hands," I sputter out and she giggles
softly into my ear.

"Maybe. Still though, it's a beautiful cock Alex. It's
just right. Smooth and silky, hot and hard, long but
not too long for me to take it all down my throat..."

What? Oh God. What did she just say? Who IS this
woman? 

"It felt so good inside me, Alex. Made me feel so
full, so good. And in my hand, right now, it's so
heavy and full, throbbing...God, Alex..."

I wanna fuck her again. I wanna fuck her so bad I
think I might weep. She is tired though, and she just
said she couldn't really stand any more stimulation
right now. If she keeps touching me like that and
saying those things though I don't know if I'm gonna
be able to stop myself. Control, God, get some
control. Where is my control?

"Um...you don't...we...don't...have...to, oh Jesus!"

Her hand tightens around me and she looks up at me
with a sexy pout that makes me want to lick her face
like a puppy dog.

"I mean you...you seem so...tired."

"Well, I'm sure as hell not gonna be able to sleep
with your cock poking at me all night."

"Um...it'll go away. If you just...mmmmaah...if we
just leave it alone, it'll go away eventually."

Like maybe by tomorrow. Jesus, what the fuck is
she doing to me?

Suddenly her hand is gone and she's pulling away a
little bit.

"Do you want me to go, Alex?"

 I have no idea where that notion came from. How
did we switch gears so completely, so suddenly?
Maybe I've offended her somehow. 

"Cause I mean, I can sleep in my own room if you'd
rather..." God, are those tears welling in her eyes?
Oh God, what did I do?

"Dana, what are you talking about?"  

"If you'd rather I didn't stay. I mean, it's okay. I
understand."

"Of course I want you to stay. Dana, I asked you to
come to bed because I want you to stay here."

Every night. For the rest of my life. 

"You're sure? It's not gonna bother you?"

"It would bother me if you left. I don't even
understand why you're asking me this. Come here.
Please."

I pull her back and she snuggles against me, seeming
somewhat comforted. 

"Okay then, I'll just lie here, my naked body pressed
against yours, and we'll wait for your little friend to
settle down."

She curls back against me and wraps her leg even
tighter around my thigh. Her nails rake lightly over
my chest and around my stomach. I wonder if this
crazy little girl will ever stop confusing me. 

"Just don't pay attention to the way my breath feels
on your chest. Or the way my finger tips feel
brushing over your thighs as I fall asleep here. Or
the fact that you can still smell me in your bed." 

Okay, I guess it's safe to assume she doesn't want it
to go away. But I'm still not completely sure about
her intentions. 

"I thought...I thought you didn't want..."

"I don't. Just close your eyes, Alex."

"I'm confused..."

"Just close your eyes and go to sleep. I'll take care
of you."

I close my eyes and try to relax a little bit, thinking
maybe she really does just want to go to sleep. I
take a few deep breaths and a moment passes and I
feel her breath, hot and steady against my chest and
then suddenly, her hand is back on my dick and her
tongue is on my skin.

I whimper pathetically and she shushes me.

"It's okay, just close your eyes and let me take care
of you." 

Her fingers are light and soft, drumming on my cock
steadily and her mouth is all over the place, licking
and kissing and sucking. I feel her moving towards
the ruined part of me and for the second time tonight
her tongue caresses me there. Combined with what
she's doing with her hand, it's enough to make me
cry. I've never known anything like this. I've never
felt this kind of care and genuine affection from
another person in my entire life. I've never felt so
close to the edge. Control...I have no control. And
then I think I finally understand a little bit. That's
what she wants. She wants me to lose control with
her, to be vulnerable and at her mercy. That's why
she got upset when I tried to stop her.  

"Dana..."

I think there was something I wanted to say but I
can't really think anymore. So I just moan and shiver
and jerk into her hand.

"Shh, it'll go away, remember?" she whispers and I
shake my head back and forth on the pillow.

"I...I don't think so."

"Sure it will. If I do this..."

And then I'm suddenly surrounded in the hottest,
wettest, softest place in the history of the world. My
eyes pop open, partially out of shock and partially
out of curiosity. I'm not sure until I look if it's her
pussy or her mouth. 

Then I see that ocean of red spread out over my
thighs and my stomach and the sheets, bobbing
slowly up and down. Mouth. It's her fucking mouth.
I love her hair but this is something I've got to see
and right now it's in the way. 

I reach down and gather as much of it as I can in my
hand and pull it back away from her face, holding it
in a half-assed pony tail on the side of her head as
she takes me into her. All the way in. And then
slowly back out again. 

One time I heard a couple of the guys here talking
about Doctor Scully's blow job lips. After I kicked
the shit out of them, I gave some thought to their
conversation and decided that they had a point.
Little did I know how good a point it was. The sight
of those lips on my cock is enough to send me into
cardiac arrest. 

I guess it's no shock to anyone when I reach orgasm
in a matter of seconds. She seems absolutely ready
for it, riding out the waves with me, swallowing
every drop that I shoot into her mouth without
complaint. As I said, I'm not surprised, but I'm also
not completely prepared. The sensations are
overwhelming and jolting in their intensity. I think
that I push her head down on me. I think that I
thrust into the back of her throat, probably choking
her. I think that I'm saying something or other. I
can't be entirely sure though because it all passes by
in a blur of pleasure. No control. God. None. 

When I regain coherence and comprehension she is
back under my arm and kissing me softly. She tastes
strange and salty. Like me I guess. 

I pull back, in desperate need of air, and tuck her
head under my chin. She kisses my neck. I think I
love her.

"What did you say?" 

"W...wha?"

God, I really can't breath. I feel like I just had a
fucking heart attack. After all the blow jobs I've
gotten in my life, so very many it's almost
embarrassing, you'd think this wouldn't be such a big
goddamn deal. But I swear to God, no one has ever
made me feel the way she just did. No one has ever
made the entire world disappear that way. 

"What did you say? Just now, when you were
coming."

Christ, how the hell am I supposed to know. I didn't
really realize I was saying anything coherent. 

"That um...devotchawaka...whatever it is. What is
that?"

Oh God. I didn't. Did I?

"I...uh...I said that?"

"Hollered it actually."

"Shit."

"Shit what? Is it profane Alex?" she asks in a light,
teasing tone. It probably would be better for me if it
were.

"Um...not exactly. I just...I don't think you'll like it
very much. I didn't mean to say it."

"I've heard you say it before. To me. What does it
mean Alex?"

"Um, it's kind of...it's just an expression really. It
doesn't uh...doesn't translate very well..." I mutter
into the pillow, hoping she's tired enough to just
fucking drop it already. 

"Alex! Tell me. If you ever expect to get head from
me again, speak now." 

Maybe I should make something up. The truth is, if I
ever expect to get head from her again the last thing
I should do is tell her what I've been calling her all
this time. The problem is she'll probably be able to
tell if I'm lying and then she'll go look it up or
something.

"Little girl."

"Huh?"

"Little girl. That's what it means. Devotchka. Little
girl."

She's silent for a very long time and I hold my
breath, waiting for the wrath of God to fall upon me.

"Little...little girl?" she asks incredulously. At least I
think that's what tone that is. I can't tell really.

"I'm sorry. I won't call you that anymore."

At least not out loud. Good God, what was I
thinking? I guess I wasn't.

"Dana?"

She looks up at me with her mouth hanging open
and the weirdest expression I've ever seen in my life.
Sometimes I wish I could read her mind. She's so
difficult.

"Dana, are you pissed? I don't really think...I mean, I
know you're not a child..."

"No, I know you don't. It's just...you've called me
that for as long as I can remember."

"I won't say it anymore. I promise. I'll call you big
strong woman. With gun. Who could kick my ass."

"Say it again."

"Big strong woman with gun who could kick my
ass."

She laughs and moves up so that her head is next to
mine, resting on my shoulder.

"Not that. The other thing. Devocka?"

She wants me to say it again? My shock, great
though it is, is momentarily outweighed by my
amusement over her egregious pronunciation.

"Nice try," I joke and she punches me in the side.

"Say it!"

"Devotchka."

"Say it again," she whispers, bringing her ear to my
lips. "Say it here."

Oh my God. Could she actually...like it?

I take a deep breath and murmur the words to her in
my best attempt at a seductive timbre and she
shivers against me. She fucking shivers. I nip at her
earlobe and say it again and she trembles. Wow.
This is very exciting. 

"You like that?"

"Mmmmm, I love it. You should speak Russian
more often."

"You'll never know what the hell I'm talking about."

"It doesn't matter. It's the way you say it. It's
like...God, I dunno, it's so nice. So sexy..."

Note to self: never speak a word of English again.
Hell, we'll probably do a lot better if she can't
understand a thing that flies out of my mouth
anyway. 

She yawns and turns over and I wrap my arm
around her waist and bury my face in her hair. 

"Say something else."

"Ya tebya lublu," I whisper like a fucking jack-ass. I
really hope she doesn't ask what that means cause I
don't even know if I can say it in English. I don't
think I ever have in my whole life. 

She sighs and snuggles in closer.

"Ya tebeia looloo..." she murmurs amidst another
yawn. She's obviously too tired to care what it
means at this point.

We lie like that for a long time and I actually feel
like I might be able to fall asleep like this. I don't feel
even an inkling of claustrophobia or tension. It feels
fucking perfect. I don't know how she feels with my
whole body enclosing her though. I'm about to ask
her if I'm smothering her when I start to hear her
soft breathing turning into rather unladylike snoring.
I'll have to remember to tease her about that in the
morning. Really though it doesn't bother me. In fact
I think it might be the most beautiful sound I've ever
heard. 

God, has she turned me into a sap already? I guess
so. Do I care? Not at the moment. Not at the
moment.

xxxxxx

end chapter 9


TITLE: World Without End: Book One (10/12)
AUTHOR: Rachel Anton
E-MAIL: RAnton1013@aol.com


xxxxxx

This is the beginning of the second day of the fifth
calendar I've been through. When I wake up I take
great pleasure in swiping a red marker through the
box that represents yesterday. Yesterday's gone. 

I got a new apartment yesterday. I don't really know
why. They moved me up a couple floors into one of
the penthouse suites. It's about ten times bigger than
the first one and that was huge itself. I wonder if I'm
getting promoted. God, please don't let me get
promoted. I don't think I could stand it. 

Anyway, it's got a better view. My old window
faced the outdoor recreation area. I got real tired of
watching all the old farts standing around and
playing with their horses all fucking day. This new
window looks out onto the city. Now I can watch
the old farts moving from building to building on
Plexiglas protected people movers. They finally
perfected those damn things a few months ago.

 It's a lovely city really. Very clean. A nice little
colony of drones. And I can't even see the walls
from here. I have to say though, I liked it better
when it was Staten Island. 

This apartment has a better fish tank too. I've got
one of those total wall unit things in the living room
with hundreds of tropical varieties swishing around
inside. 

Yep, I'm a lucky guy. So they keep telling me. 

I hear the door open behind me as I'm putting
together my breakfast and turn to see a wrinkled
mass of bones hovering behind a cloud of smoke. 

"Doesn't anyone knock anymore?"

"I understand you wanted to see me, Mulder," he
says, creeping ever closer to my dinner table and
flicking ash onto my brand new, wall to wall, snow
white carpeting. 

"Yeah, it's been awhile. I want...well, how is she?"

He takes a long drag off his damn cigarette, drawing
out the suspense I suppose.

"She's doing well. Quite healthy and happy. As
always."

As always. Right. Hard to be unhappy when you
can't feel a damn thing. 

"They're still...I mean she's still being treated well?"

"Of course. I know her Master personally and he's
assured me that she's being given exceptional
treatment. We've been over this before, Mulder.
Countless times. Is there something else?"

I take a deep breath, fully prepared to be shot down
but determined nevertheless.

"Sir, I was wondering...I mean, is it at all possible...I
want to see her."

He flicks more ash on my floor and his lips quirk in
an utterly unreadable way. 

"I have some new photographs if you'd like..."

"NO!" 

I think we're both startled at my adamance.

"I want to SEE her. In person. Face to face."

"That's impossible," he tells me, blandly dropping his
butt into my morning coffee. "And it wasn't part of
the deal."

I knew that was coming. I wish I had something
else, another bargaining chip. He's got a full house
and I've got a joker and a two. 

"I realize that. It's just...it's been almost five years
already. Five years is a long time."

"Yes, five years. You're more than halfway through,
Mulder. Don't tell me you want to change our terms
now?"

Is that what I want? What might that mean? What
would I have to give in order to get? What would it
take?

"I don't...no, not exactly. I just, I just want to be
able to see her in person, just for a few minutes
even. Just to know...to know that..."

Goddammit! There is nothing more revolting or
demoralizing than having to grovel at the feet of this
son of a bitch. 

"She wouldn't recognize you anyway. What would
be the point?"

An image of the woman who used to be my Scully
flashes through me, from one of the earliest video
tapes. I remember thinking how beautiful she still
was even though her eyes were dead and she moved
with the animation of a wind up doll. She wouldn't
recognize me or anyone else. I need to get her out of
there. Please God, let me get her out of there. 

"Haven't you ever lost someone close to you? Don't
you know what it's like to just need to see them, to
just breathe the same air if only for a moment..."

No, I don't suppose these are feelings this man could
ever understand. And I need to pull back and stop
exposing so much of myself. Of course the bastard
already knows my weakness, my need. 

"Arrogant child," he mutters before lighting yet
another cigarette. "You think you're the only one
who's suffered losses? We all have, some even
greater than yours. My suggestion to you is be
thankful for what you have been given. Scully is safe
and you are alive. You've both only got two more
years of servitude and then you will be reunited and
free to do whatever you please. You've got a lot
more going for you than just about anyone else. Be
grateful and concentrate on your job."

My job. Wonderful. Post-apocalyptic pencil pusher. 

"And speaking of your job, Mulder, I believe that
part of the deal was that you actually do it."

"I have been. I've been going to the meetings, doing
my part, I haven't caused any trouble for anyone.
What more do you want?"

"You've been a disappointment Mulder. You're not
applying yourself to your fullest ability. Never forget
what's at stake here."

How could I? For crap's sake, how could I forget
for one fucking minute that he's got me by the balls?
Why did I even bother asking? I'm beginning to
think this was a serious mistake. Now if I start
looking for her on my own it'll be more difficult to
avert suspicion. 

"Can I at least see a new tape?"

I try to keep the whining tone out of my voice but I
can't help the desperation.

"I've got new photos. That's all I can give you right
now."

"I want a tape. Like in the beginning. That was part
of the deal too if you remember."

"It's impossible. Besides, her days are identical to
each other. There would be no purpose in watching
her mind numbing routine."

"It was part of the deal. I want the tapes!"

"What you want is not an issue. And I don't care for
your tone. Don't ever forget that she can be
eliminated, Mulder. Quite easily. I would be very
careful if I were in your shoes."

We stare each other down for a minute in a lame and
utterly false stand off. We both know who's in
control. Motherfucker. I'm gonna find her. I've gotta
find her. I can't live another fucking day like this. 

"Aren't you late for work, Mulder? You shouldn't
keep your partner waiting any longer." 

Partner. Jefferey Spender is not my partner. Scully is
my only partner. 

He's right though. I need to keep up appearances at
least. For now. I brush past him and head for the
door, not caring if he spends the rest of the day
puttering around my apartment, looking though
every last drawer. I don't write anything down
anymore. No records. Everything stays in my head. 

Before I leave I turn back to him, utterly disgusted
with myself, him and the entire world. 

"Those pictures better be here when I get back
goddammit!"

I slam the door forcefully, my one pitiful show of
strength. God, Scully, what would you think of me
for this? 

I've been having nightmares lately, dreams about
seeing you again only it's not you anymore. You're
someone else. Someone who hates me for what I've
done. 

I  tell you that I was trying to protect you but that
only makes you hate me more.

I'm sorry, Scully. I'm sorry and I promise, I will find
you. I will find you. 

xxxxxx


Fuck. She's so fucking beautiful.

I didn't mean to do this. I'm not a stalker. I swear.
It's just, I can't stop looking. 

There's nobody else here. The library gets deserted
this time of night. Hell, who am I kidding. It's not
exactly the hottest spot on campus any time of day. 

But Dana spends a lot of time here. Even when she's
not working, she likes to come here and read. But
tonight she's here for business, not pleasure. She's
sitting at one of the computer terminals in the center
of the first floor, entering data. I watch her fingers
glide over the keyboard and her head move back and
forth from her notebook to the computer screen
from behind a stack in the reference section. 

It's strange, in the time before, when I first knew
her, I thought that her dignity, her poise, came from
the way she adorned herself. That harsh haircut and
those dark, sharp, tailored suits, the alarmingly high
heels, flawless make-up. I thought that's what it was.
But it's not.

She's sitting there now in a pair of old grey
sweatpants and a bulky, white, woolen fisherman's
sweater that's at least two sizes too big, her hair tied
at the top of her head in a makeshift bun with a
pencil through it, looking for all the world like a
college student studying for finals. But even now,
even with her back turned towards me, she exudes
this quiet air of authority. With her posture, her
graceful movements, her focus and intensity.

Untouchable.

But not to me. Not anymore.

I came here to ask her if she wanted to have dinner
with me. It's late for that but I'm pretty sure she
hasn't eaten yet. And I want to see her. I need to see
her.

It's been six days since I made love to this woman,
this...God, this woman, for the first time. Made love.
God. I really did, too. It wasn't just fucking, even
that first time on the table. It was hot, it was frantic,
it was insane, but I was making love to her then
even though she probably didn't realize it. 

We're pretty busy people, both of us. Everyone here
is. But I've made time, as much time as humanly
possible. I've gone without sleep for three of the
past six nights. Even when the sex was over, I
stayed awake, just to spend the extra time, watching
her drift in and out of sleep, playing with her hair.
We went without eating almost anything on the
second day because we couldn't bring ourselves to
leave that bed long enough to make it to the
caffeteria and I didn't have anything in the fridge. It's
not enough. It could never be enough.

I've never had a real girlfriend before. 

That sounds pathetic. It's not though. I mean, I've
dated...I guess. Well, I've had a lot of sex. But I've
never had someone like...like this. I've never been
this close. To anyone. Ever. I never thought I'd want
to either. But now I can't think of anything else.

Some people might think it's strange to start a
serious relatioship now, in the middle of all this
chaos. I guess it is. But not any more strange than
the concept of having a relationship is in itself to me. 

I don't really know how I'm supposed to act towards
her. It's only been six days after all. I'm not
uncomfortable with her but sometimes I worry that
I'm saying the wrong thing, that she'll get scared and
leave me. I have a tendency to frighten people. And
like I said, this whole thing is kind of new. 

I've never felt so...much. And I don't know if I'm
supposed to show her all of that, tell her, or if I
should keep at least some of it to myself. 

God, she'd laugh if she knew what a pathetic sap
she's turned me into in just six short days. I know
I'm better off not letting her see it but sometimes I
want to tell her everything. Everything she is to me
and everything I want for us. Sometimes it builds up
in me so strong and I feel like I'll explode if I don't
let it out. 

Like now.

God, just looking at her like this, I feel butterflies in
my stomach and a burn in the back of my throat like
I might burst into tears and an ache inside me that I
can't explain at all. And I'm happy. I feel really
happy.

And hard. Always. I swear, all I have to do is glance
in her direction, or even just think of her, and I'm
randy as a fifteen year old. I don't know what the
sanitation comittee must have thought of my random
boner this afternoon. Wasn't even a fantasy or a
daydream or anything. I just thought about seeing
her tonight in passing, "gosh, I wanna see her
tonight" and there it was, evidence of my lovesick
dementia, pressed against my zipper, as I stood in
front of a room full of people, giving a lecture
concerning the virtue of speedy poop removal. . 

The sound of typing stops and I hear her sigh. She
pushes the keyboard across the desk and rubs her
hands over her face. I suppose now would be a good
time to make myself known. Like I said, I don't
know much about relationships. But I know enough
to realize that most women don't like being spied on. 

I walk towards her, my heart thudding against my
chest, faster and faster the closer I get to her. Man,
how bad have I got it? Jesus.

She doesn't look up as I approach. She's got her face
buried in her palms now and gives no indication that
she's heard me at all. When I'm standing behind her I
reach out a tentative hand. Still not sure about the
public displays of affection thing. She's a pretty
private person so I've been controlling my need to
touch her when we're out as much as I can. But
there's nobody here now. Like I said, it's deserted at
night. 

I lay my hand on her shoulder and she starts for a
second and then immediately relaxes into my touch.
She knows who I am. Without turning around. Just
by the way I touch her.

She lets out another long, heavy sigh and I squeeze
her shoulder, almost dizzy with the electricity I feel
when we connect. I start kneading the tense muscles
in her shoulder blade and she sighs again. A different
sigh. A happy sigh.  I rub harder, thrilled and still a
little surprised that she enjoys it when I touch her. 

She scoots forward so that she's sitting on the edge
of the chair. An invitation. 

I lift a leg up, hoping like hell that I won't kick her
by mistake, and straddle the seat behind her. Sliding
down to a sitting position causes me to drag my
crotch along her spine and I'm helpless to stop the
grunt that comes from somewhere deep in my chest. 

Once I'm sitting she pushes back into me, settling
her perfect, worshipped ass between my thighs, and
resting her back against my chest. I continue to
massage her shoulder until she drops her head; a
silent request to move to her neck. I dig my fingers
into the taut flesh and she moans. I work my way up
to her scalp, loosening the knot in her hair and
letting it fall out and over her shoulders. The pencil
that had previously been holding the whole structure
together falls to the floor. 

"Mmm...Alex."

I wonder what she thinks about when she says my
name. I wonder what she feels at times like this. 

I want to ask her but for some reason, I'm terrified
of the answer.

So I just keep rubbing her neck, her head, her
shoulders, hoping that I can communicate something
to her that way.

"Hungry?" I ask, my head now resting on her left
shoulder as my hand works out the kinks in the right
one.

"Mmmmmhuummm," she sighs and I have no idea
what that means so I turn my head to the side and
look at her face. Her eyes are closed and she's
smiling that sweet, beautiful smile. I still don't know
if she's hungry but I'm glad I looked.

I kiss her cheek softly. A surge of need throbs from
my lips down to my cock and I stop my massage and
wrap my arm possesively around her waist and
squeeze her tight. I bury my face in her neck and
inhale deeply. Wool and soap and her...God, her.

I kiss her neck sloppily, greedily, and she seems to
melt into me. I run my tongue around her ear and
move my hand underneath her sweater so that I can
touch the soft skin on her belly. 

"Alex..."

"God, devotchka, I need to touch you so badly," I
choke, sounding like the desperate fool that I am. 

"Mmm...yeah."

I take that as permission to slip my hand under the
waistband of her sweatpants and move my fingers
gently down over her panties. Well, it starts gentle
anyway. And then I feel the moisture, seeping
through the fabric and it just about sets me over the
edge. 

Her head falls back against my shoulder and she
moans again as I continue my massage between her
legs. God, I can't get enough of this.

I need to feel her skin to skin so I shove my hand
into her underwear and glide my finger back and
forth across her.

"You're so wet," I murmur and she shudders.

"Mmmohhr," she groans and I move a little harder, a
little faster. She bucks into my hand and I think she
wants still more. God, I don't know what the hell I'm
doing. 

I mean I do but, she's so different than anyone I've
ever been with. I want to know instinctually how to
please her and I think that I've been doing okay so
far but...I want to do better. I want to be the best. I
don't like asking for help, in this area or any other.
But I try to think of this as her helping herself more
than anything.

"Show me," I whisper into her ear. "Show me how."

She turns her head towards me quickly,
questioningly.

"Yeah?" she asks, apparantly confused by my low
cockiness quotient this evening.  

"Yeah."

She smiles and nods and closes her eyes again. Then
she reaches down and puts her right hand over mine. 

She leads me through a series of elaborate
maneuvers which I struggle to memorize. Around
the clit, slow then fast then stop then do it again.
Then press down hard and that makes her gasp real
loud so I know I won't forget that one.

The fact that she's doing this, that she trusts me
enough, is the biggest turn on I can imagine and I
find myself unconsciously grinding against her ass.
She seems to notice and begins rocking back and
forth between our hands and my cock. 

She guides one of my fingers inside of her and
together we pump in and out of her, fast and hard.
Then she pulls me back out and we spread more of
the wetness over her. Her left hand, which had been
resting on the desk in front of us works its way up
and around and into my hair.

Soon she's pressing me down on her clit in a series
of quick rotations and actually bouncing up and
down against me and just when I think I might come
in my pants she lets out a howl that seems to echo
throughout the entire building, shudders, and
collapses against my chest. 

I chuckle into her ear and give her one last squeeze
before pulling my hand out of her pants and
wrapping my arm around her waist again. 

She turns to me and I kiss her for a very long time,
breathing in her pants and sighs like oxygen, holding
her shivering body tightly against me. Post-orgasmic
Dana is one of the seven wonders of the world. 

"Mmm...Alex..." she whispers and tucks her head
under my chin. 

"Good?"

"Very."

"Thanks for the lesson."

She laughs and squeezes my arm.

"Any time. Just don't forget what you've learned
here today, young man."

"Well, you know what they say. Best way to learn
anything is by practicing. Over and over and over."

She kisses me over her shoulder again with a grin.

"Maybe we should get out of here so you can give
me a lesson of my own," she murmers against my
lips.

"You don't need a lesson, devotchka. You know just
what to do."

"Not true. There's always room for improvement in
this area. It takes a big man to admit that. So, thank
*you*." 

"All in days' work for Alex Krycek, stud for hire."

She rolls her eyes but can't help laughing a little. 

"Anyway, why should you get to have all the fun. I
wanna see you too, Alex. I want you to show me
what you do..."

She starts kissing my neck and turning herself
around completely. Before I know it, she's straddling
my lap and God help me, I don't think we're gonna
make it out of the library tonight. 

God, I'm a lucky fuck.

xxxxxx

end chapter 10


TITLE: World Without End: Book One (11/12)
AUTHOR: Rachel Anton
E-MAIL: RAnton1013@aol.com

xxxxxx

I miss my ceiling. I know, it's an odd thing to miss
and in fact, it's not even on my top ten list of things I
miss most. How could it be when Scully's not here?
When I can't get Chinese take out anymore because
all of my food comes from a computer? I remember
watching Star Trek. I was always jealous of Picard
and his replicator. Earl Grey tea whenever he
wanted it and all he had to do was say the words.
Who knew it would taste like ass?

Anyhow, when a person is bereft of his one true love
as well as any kind of decent nourishment,  how
could a ceiling make it into the top ten? It couldn't.
But right now it's entering the top one hundred.

 The ceiling in my old office was made of some
amalgamation of cardboard, asbestos and cork. It
was the perfect texture for pencil throwing. They
always stuck if I managed to chuck them up there
properly. The ceiling in my new office is a shiny,
metal, reflective slab and I'm pretty sure if I threw
something up there it would come careening back at
me with double force, probably taking my eye out in
the process. And it's all fun and games until someone
loses an eye. 

So I don't throw pencils. I lean back in my chair and
stare at myself. For hours on end. I wonder if there's
a place in hell for people who waste time. It seems
like such a sin. I wonder how many hours, days I've
wasted, twiddling my thumbs and looking at my foot
while the world falls apart. I wonder if maybe this is
hell itself. Trapped in a high tech, concrete jungle
with Jeffrey Spender, my so-called partner, for all
eternity. It could well be hell. 

Sometimes I try to talk to Scully. Sometimes I think
that wherever she is, she has to still feel me
somewhere, be able to hear me when I call to her to
tell her I'm coming for her soon. Even if she doesn't
remember consciously, there has to be some
fragment of my memory inside of her and I try to
reach that fragment when I sit here. It's not
completely unselfish. I want her to talk back. She
never does though. I never know if my messages are
reaching her. She never did believe in things like
psychic messages and I guess if you don't believe it
doesn't work. Besides, I'm not a psychic. Just a
bored, desperate, lonely man. 

So far my search has turned up absolutely nothing. I
just don't have access to the kind of information I
need. I managed to talk Spender into sniffing around
a little bit for me but so far he's been unsucessful as
well. I've tried to sneak into a few places, maximum
security zones and the like, where I thought I might
be able to find something but on the rare occasions
when I've actually gotten in, I haven't been able to
find anything useful. I don't really think I've ever felt
so powerless. Even when I was looking for Sam, it
never seemed this daunting, I never felt so
imprisoned. 

I was also never quite this desperate to find Sam. It's
an unpleasant combination. Add that to the
mind-numbing monotony of my daily life and it's
unbearable. The only thing that keeps me going is
the thought of seeing her again. 

I've created quite a collection of fantasy scenarios in
my head, what with all the free time I've got on my
hands. All of them involve me sweeping into some
castle or palace where Scully is being held prisoner,
taking her into my arms and carrying her off to some
remote, uninhabited island and making love to her
until we both drop dead from exhaustion. It's not
like we've got anything else to do. 

I wonder what she'd think of all this. Our life's work
has amounted to a pile of dung rotting on the
sidewalk. In the end, we couldn't have done a damn
thing to stop this. We wasted so much time, lost so
much. For absolutely nothing. We should have taken
every precious moment and spent it loving each
other instead of trying to right the world's wrongs.
Still, I can't bring myself to regret a bit of it. I just
wonder what she'd say...She'd have to admit that I
was right all along. Sometimes I fantasize about
hearing her say that. I just laugh and kiss her. It
doesn't matter anymore. 

I close my eyes and try like hell to focus on that
image to the exclusion of all else. I've almost got it.
It's the Scully from before with her short hair and
the life in her eyes and it's the me from way before,
twenty pounds lighter and a hell of a lot more
idealistic. Totally inaccurate but it's a keeper
anyway. Just as I'm starting to really disappear into
la la land the door slams shut startling me into
consciousness. 

I open one eye and catch sight of Spender, scurrying
around like a weasel, locking the doors and closing
the windows, sweeping for surveillance devices,
looking like a paranoid freak, looking the way I used
to look. 

"Are we alone?" he asks me in a hurried whisper.

"Are we ever?"

"I mean it! Is there any chance we're being watched?
Listened to? Are you wired?"

"Wired?"

"Look this is very important. If anyone finds out I
have this...I don't even wanna think about what
could happen to me."

He pulls a video tape out of his jacket pocket and
puts it on top of my desk. 

"If anyone asks, I didn't give this to you."

"You finally found those movies I've been looking
for?"

"Goddammit Mulder! This is not a joke!"

Well that's good cause it would make a really bad
joke. No punch line, bad set up, and Spender's
overly dramatic hushed tones are more pathetic than
funny. 

"You wanted this, well here it is. I suggest you
watch it and then destroy it as soon as possible."

"This cloak and dagger bit is kind of unnecessary
don't you think? What the hell is on this tape
anyway? And why are we whispering?"

"Do you remember about a year ago, there was
some kind of attack on a newly established colony
up north?" he whispers. 

"No but I'll take your word for it," I whisper back. 

Probably another raid and pillage by the "resistance".
Every time I hear about one of those things I don't
know whether to laugh or cry. Do they really think
they're doing anyone any good at all? They're no
better than the faceless men, the resistance from the
sky. Killing people like me, prisoners, slaves, I don't
see how this is supposed to help. No one chose this
life. No one. 

"Well, there was an attack, by a resistance group
here on Earth. They destroyed the place, killed
everyone. They blew up the main building but there
was a surveillance room in the basement that was
relatively undamaged. There wasn't much left but I
guess our people made a sweep and found a few
pieces of evidence. I found...I found this tape in my
father's apartment, Mulder."

I still have no idea what this tape could possibly
have to do with me but I take it and stick it in the
VCR anyway. When I reach to turn it on Spender
grabs my hand. 

"You could be killed just for watching this," he tells
me urgently.

Whatever. 

The picture that fills my screen is almost as boring as
what's right in front of my face. It's two men sitting
at two desks, rifling through two piles of paper and
not talking to each other. The office is a little less
cluttered but other than that this could be me and
Spender on any given day during the past five years.
This gripping drama continues for about ten minutes
until Spender finally shrugs sheepishly and hits the
fast forward button. 

"It goes on like this for awhile but...wait, here it is."

He rewinds and we watch a couple seconds more of
the terrific twosome and then suddenly something
breaks the monotony. And the window. 

A man, dressed all in black, crashes through the
glass with a submachine gun. It's been awhile. A
long while. But it only takes a second or two for me
to identify the man.

"He's alive?"

It's interesting, it's unexpected, and it's still a mystery
why in the world I should care. The two men
scramble around and one of them goes down almost
instantly. Blood pours from his chest and the fucker
is actually smiling. This really isn't that surprising at
all now that I think about it. Hell, the cockroaches
are still here, why shouldn't Krycek be around too,
killing whoever he deems deserving to service his
own ends? Some things will never ever change. 

The other man starts running towards the door but
when he opens it another shot goes off, from
outside, and he goes down too. More  blood.
Krycek's got a friend. I guess he's got a bunch if he
was involved in the destruction of an entire colony.
A whole little group of cockroaches. 

And then...and then...and then it all makes sense.
And it makes no sense at all. 

The second assassin walks through the door. Her
hair is longer, tied back in a French braid and she's
dressed in a matching black jeans, leather jacket
ensemble but there's no mistaking the woman's
identity. No mistaking. 

"Oh..."

I think I was going to say something like "Oh my
God" but my throat has closed in on itself. On the
screen Krycek is digging through the first dead
man's desk and she...Scully, my Scully, is closing
and locking the door. This can't be what it looks
like. God, I don't even know what it looks like. It's
the strangest thing I've ever seen. 

She walks over to the second dead guy's desk and
starts rummaging through the drawers. Her face has
blood and dirt on it. Her clothes are torn. She's
panting and...she looks...I can't even describe how
she looks. I've never seen her like this. 

"Hey, check it out. Somebody's got a secret,"
Krycek says, holding up a pair of frilly pink panties
that he apparently found in one of the drawers. 

"I don't think they're your size," Scully comments
dryly as she starts dumping a pile of disks into a bag. 

"They might be yours," he replies oh so wittily and
tosses them over to her. She picks them up, eyes
them, shrugs and sticks them in the bag. 

"How much time?" he asks. She looks at her watch
and gasps. 

"Two and a half minutes. We've gotta get out of
here."

She slings her bag over her shoulder and runs over
to him. He's still frantically digging. She touches his
arm. She touches his arm. She touches his fucking
arm. 

"We need to go, Alex."

Alex...Alex...ALEX? 

"I'm not finished. I think..."

"Alex! Stop it. We need to go."

He looks up at her and they seem to have some kind
of silent, eye conversation and he finally nods. The
two of them climb out the window he broke in
through and Spender hits the off button. 

"That's about it. The rest of this is just the office
blowing up."

I can't talk. I can't even think. I have to get her out
of there. I have to get her away from him. I need to
talk to her. I need to know what she's doing with
that...that son of a bitch! God, how could this have
happened? 

"Mulder..."

"He knew about this," I choke out. "Your...your
fucking father. He knew...the deal....there was no
deal. It's all been a bunch of BULLSHIT this entire
time!"

"Mulder, keep your voice down."

"Keep my voice down?! FUCK YOU, keep my
voice down. I can't...I can't even believe this.
Where...where was this? Where are they?"

"I don't...I'm not entirely sure..."

"Well you better find the fuck out you little prick! I
swear to God..."

"Mulder, get your hands off me."

My hands? God, I didn't even realize I was shaking
him. I didn't realize I was shaking. 

"This...this can't happen. She's in danger. I need to
find her. I need to talk to her!"

"Danger? She looked pretty...I mean, I think she's
the danger Mulder. Her and Krycek, playing Bonnie
and Clyde or something..."

"She's not playing anything with that bastard! This
isn't her choice. It can't be."

"Mulder, I don't..."

"I HAVE TO SEE HER! DO YOU
UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Look, I can't help you any more than I have..."

"No, you have to help me. You don't have a choice.
You find out where she is and then you help me get
to her and if you don't, I swear to God Spender, I'll
tell them about this. I'll tell them that you showed
me this tape. And there won't be a force in the
universe that will be able to save you."

He sits down at his desk and sighs heavily. He looks
defeated. Thank God.

"All right, look, I can tell you the exact location of
this colony that was attacked. From there it should
be relatively easy for you to find them."

"If it's so damn easy to find them then why hasn't
somebody done it already?"

"I don't know. That's one of the things I don't
understand about any of this. They're being allowed
to survive. Somebody is keeping them safe. Maybe
my father..."

God, I can't even begin to imagine the reasoning
behind what that bastard has done. Just thinking
about it, about how I've been playing into his head
game all this time, is enough to make me want to
vomit. 

"Anyway, you're gonna need some kind of car to get
there. It's a long way. And you're going to need a
reason, Mulder. You can't just drive on out of here
like it's a freaking vacation you know."

"I know that."

"The only thing I can think of is if we arranged for
you to transport a slave, that might get you through
the initial check points and then from there...from
there you're on your own, Mulder." 

"Fine. Let's do it."

xxxxxx

end chapter 11
 TITLE: World Without End: Book One (12/12)
AUTHOR: Rachel Anton
E-MAIL: RAnton1013@aol.com

xxxxxx

It's New Year's Eve. The fifth New Year's I've spent
here. The first I spent alone in my room, crying
when I heard the tower bell ringing at midnight,
thinking what a pointless celebration it was, thinking
that all I had to look forward to was another year
without Mulder. The second I ventured out to a
party, had a few drinks, danced a few dances with
Bryan and staggered back to my room, in tears. The
third passed in a similar fashion. The fourth I spent
with Alex. We didn't do much, just sat in his room
sharing a bottle of wine, but I remember having the
strangest feeling that night. I felt like something was
going to change. Something huge. I fell asleep
crying that night. Two weeks later, Alex and I made
love for the first time. I have that same kind of
feeling tonight.

Alex is making me dinner. He cooks for me almost
every single night. It's definitely one of the fringe
benefits of our relationship that I don't have to eat
every  meal in the cafeteria anymore. He's got a little
kitchenette in his room. Our room. It's our room
now. I keep forgetting that. It's only been official for
a week. Of course I've been spending almost every
night here for the past year anyway so official
doesn't mean much more than finally bringing the
last of my clothes over here. My clothes and, of
course, Ret and all of his dog paraphenalia. Maybe
that's where this weird feeling is coming from
though. Maybe "shacking up" is making me more
nervous than I thought it would. I don't think so
though. 

I wonder what mom would have said about me
finally living with a man.  She probably would have
done a jig. Then she'd have found out who that man
was and she probably would have cried. She
wouldn't understand. She wouldn't be able to take
the past and put it in a padlocked vault in the back
of her heart, never to be seen or heard from again. 

Ahab might have liked Alex. Maybe. Alex is a
survivor and I think Ahab would have appreciated
that. And he takes care of me. Even when I don't
want him to, even when I tell him to leave me the
hell alone already, he insists on taking care of me
and I know my father would have been happy about
that. 

As for my brothers, I can't even imagine what they
would have to say. I shudder to even think about it.
It's so strange to wonder, to try and reconcile my
past and my present. To imagine a world in which
they could possibly co-exist is almost impossible.
Maybe it's better this way. If there were even a
single remnant of my life before left on this Earth
things would be a hell of a lot more confusing. I just
miss them so much sometimes. Especially this time
of year. 

"Devotchka?"

I jump a little bit and then relax into Alex's embrace.
He's standing behind me with his arm around my
waist, his head on my shoulder. I suppose he's been
watching me stare out the window like a zombie. I
notice Ret, sitting happily at my feet for the first
time and smile to myself. What a scene of domestic
bliss we make. So why do I feel so...

"You okay?"

Am I? I think I am. I can't shake this feeling though.
It's so odd.

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. What'cha thinkin' about?"

I sigh and lean back against him, wondering if I
should even tell him. We hardly ever talk about the
time before, about our families, our past. He hardly
seems to think of it at all. I know he didn't really
have anyone that he cared about anyway so he
doesn't have these bouts of nostalgia the way that I
do. And frankly, the subject of my family is riddled
with potentially awkward and painful issues between
the two of us. Issues I've made a conscious decision
to leave buried. 

"Mulder?" he asks and I sigh again. I wasn't thinking
about him but now that he's mentioned it, I am. 

"No, I was actually thinking about my mother.
Just...wondering."

He doesn't say anything, just squeezes me tighter
and starts kissing my neck. I'm glad. I don't think I
could stand hearing any inane reassurances right
now. He knows I've looked. I've looked for them all.
And we both know that the chances of any of them
still being alive are slim to none. 

"And I was thinking about my brothers. What they
would have thought of you."

He laughs against my ear softly.

"They would have hated me."

"Yes they would have. Bill thought *Mulder* was
dangerous. I can't even imagine what he would have
thought of you."

"And what would Mulder think?"

"What...what do you mean?"

"If he were here. What would he think?"

I don't know what to say to that. The truth is, if
Mulder were here Alex and I would never have
gotten into this situation to begin with. I can't say
that to him though. How can I? I'm sure he knows it
but to say it would be a kick in the face. 

The fact is, Mulder isn't here. The fact is, it doesn't
matter what he would have thought. The question
isn't valid. 

"I don't know, Alex," is all I can say.

"I know what he'd want to do..."

"Alex, let's not talk about Mulder anymore."

"Kay."

He gives me another kiss behind my ear and starts to
walk back to the stove. 

"Come and sit down. Dinner's almost ready."

I nod absently and continue to stare out the window.
It's snowing again. That's not an unusual thing
certainly but for some reason, tonight, just looking
at it is making me feel cold. Something about this
snow is just...different. 

"Devotchka? What's wrong?"

"What?" I turn around and see that he's brought all
the food to the table and is standing there waiting
for me. I wonder how long I've been ignoring him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Alex. I...I don't know..."

"What is it, Dana?"

"I don't know. I just feel so...so odd."

"Are you getting sick?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that."

"Is it me? Is it something I did?"

"No, no, Alex. You didn't do anything. I just...it's
not even a bad feeling really. Just a weird one. Like
something...something's just different. Or it's going
to be, or...God, I don't even know what I'm talking
about. Forget about it."

He smiles and shrugs and looks at me in this way
that he has. I can't even describe it but it makes
everything okay. 

"Come and eat, devotchka. It's New Year's. We
should be celebrating."

My legs still don't seem to want to carry me over
there for some reason. For some reason all I seem to
be able to do right now is look at him. Alex. My
beautiful, dirty, little animal. Sometimes I find myself
just looking at him. And when I do I'm almost
always knocked flat on my ass by what happens to
me. The tremors usually start somewhere in my
chest but they always end up running up and down
my entire body like bolts of electricity. To feel such
desire, such primal, gut level hunger, is always a
surprise to me. 

Times like this I wonder if it's possible to have two
soulmates. I always figured if it was, the feeling
would be the same. That if I were to feel a love so
strong, as strong as my love for Mulder, that love
would manifest itself in exactly the same way. I think
I was wrong. I think it would be impossible for me
to fall in love with someone who affected me in the
same ways that Mulder did. He would never be able
to measure up. But Alex, Alex brings out feelings,
urges, tendencies, that I didn't even know could
exist in me. 

I think it is possible. I think Mulder was my
soulmate for the time that we were together. He was
my spiritual brother, sharing a love with me that was
almost religious in its sanctity. We connected on a
higher plane in a way that I will never experience
again. Our physical attraction was strong, intense,
but it was secondary to our other connections.

And Alex, Alex is my soulmate in the world we live
in today. My physical soulmate, my carnal
connection, my link to the world of the visceral, the
bloody, the deep and the dark. Mulder made me
ache. Alex makes me burn. 

God, I want to touch him so badly. It's so strong, so
feral. He turns me into an animal too. 

"How..." I start, my voice cracking with the force of
my sudden and random lust. "How do you say
animal?"

He closes his eyes once, for a long few seconds, and
I want to crawl inside his brain and see what's going
on in there. After all the time we've spent, the things
we've done, he's still a mystery so much of the time. 

When his eyes finally open they find mine
immediately and I think he understands. 

"Zhivotnoye," he murmurs and the sound of the
word coming from his gorgeous mouth sends a
particularly strong quake through my body, starting
and ending between my legs. 

"Zhivotnoye. Zhivotnoye." I roll the word around on
my tongue a few times. I think my pronunciation has
improved a bit over the past year. He's taught me
quite a few words and when I say them he doesn't
laugh or cringe anymore. I think I said it right. 

"Zhivotnoye. Can I call you that?"

He swallows heavily and I watch the motion of his
Adam's apple bobbing up and down and then he
wraps his fingers around the back of my empty
chair. 

"Yes," he says and I notice that this time his voice
cracks a bit. 

"I want you so much, Alex. Sometimes it's...I can't
even stand it."

I'm not sure why I feel the need to tell him this right
now but for some reason it seems very important.
Despite the fact that it's utterly unnecessary.

"I know you want me, devotchka. I've never
doubted that."

Of course. 

"No, I...I suppose you wouldn't. Everybody wants
you, right?"

"Yeah but, hey, what can I say about that. I can't
help being this sexy. It's just the way I was made."

He's walking now, closing the distance between us.
We're both breathing heavily already. I have a
feeling dinner is going to have to wait. 

"It must be so tough, being lusted after by so
many..."

"It's a challenge every day. The benefits outweigh
the drawbacks though."

"Oh really? And what exactly are the benefits?"

"Well, the most important one is that I get to decide
who I want in my bed every night."

"Really?"

"Yep. And when I choose the most beautiful woman
this Earth has ever seen, she can't help but fall into
my arms...." he pauses and shrugs, "or, arm at
least...and my pants."

He's standing right in front of me now, only a few
inches away. I want to just grab him, to just jump on
top of him and fuck him senseless, but dragging it
out a bit always makes it that much better. 

"Just Earth? What about the rest of the universe?"

"Well, ya know, there's lots of planets I ain't seen yet
so I don't wanna be biased."

"Ah, I see. So does this mean you might end up
leaving me for some blue chick somewhere down
the road?"

"I'm just saying I can't be absolute about it.
Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless said gorgeous Earth woman were to try and
lobby for absolute exclusivity."

"Lobby?"

"Yeah, you know, what's the term...." 

He reaches down and starts pulling at his belt buckle
and I swear to God, I have to struggle not to
whimper. 

"Grease me."

"Grease you? I think I've greased you plenty, Mister
Universe."

"Yeah well, it's always a good idea to keep the
customers satisfied," he sneers, undoing his belt
completely and starting to work on the top buttons
of his jeans. 

"Customers. Is that what you are now? My my,
what does that make me then?"

"Hey whatever. If you don't think you can prove
yourself to me, maybe I better start looking into the
blue chicks."

"You think the blue chicks can suck your cock as
good as me, you're in for a big disappointment," I
whisper and his whole body jerks towards me.
"Huge," I add and he sneers again. What is it about
seeing him sneer? God, what is it about any of the
things he does. I swear, if he were anyone else...

"Oh come on, Dana. How hard could that be. I mean
really, I think I put much more effort into it than you
do."

"Effort? Please. You have no idea how much effort I
put into that...that club in your pants."

He laughs and pulls open the last button on his fly.

"No, I suppose you're right. I really don't. Maybe
you better remind me, Dana."

Oh God. He's pulling it out. I should really be
offended. I should really be disgusted. Or at least
laughing. But all I can do is stare at it.

"Come on Dana. Think of it as an appetizer."

He's hard as a rock, holding himself in his hand,
actually waving the damn thing around. I'm about a
half a second away from drooling. My mouth is
literally filled with saliva. I swallow it down and try
to look away.

"You really are a piece of work, Alex."

"Yeah, it is ain't it. Like art almost," he says, looking
down at himself gleefully. "I oughtta have it casted
or something. They could put it in the library with all
the other art."

"Pathetic," I sniff and he grabs my head and pulls it
roughly to his own. He kisses me hard and
good...so, so good and my knees start to shake.

"That pathetic too?" 

"Mmmm, slightly less so."

"Good. Now, back to the greasing," he tells me,
pushing my head down in the general direction of his
crotch. 

"Not so fast, cowboy."

"Oh yeah, as fast as you can, baby. I might be called
off to battle at any moment. There's not much time."

"Alex, you...I don't know how you do it. You make
the most offensive things seem almost...cute."

He shrugs innocently and rakes his eyes up and
down my body covetously. His hand is still tangled
up in my hair and his exposed erection is pressing
against my stomach. The wetness is starting to pool
in my underwear. 

"If you were anyone else I'd probably be spitting on
you right now. You realize that don't you?"

"Ya know, for a woman who's supposed to be
proving her love, you sure are doing a lot of talking.
Now would you suck my fucking cock already?"

"Well, I was just waiting for you to ask sweetness.
All this subtlety was going right over my head."

He laughs through his nose amidst our near panting
and shoves my head down until I'm on my knees in
front of him, until his admittedly magnificent cock is
between my lips. He starts moaning immediately and
I have to hold my hands in fists to keep from
reaching down into my own pants and playing with
myself. Not that he would mind that. It just might
distract me from the task at hand: breaking him. 

I use every weapon in my arsenal, tongue, teeth,
hands and especially lips and within a couple minutes
he's jerking into me and holding my shoulder for
support. His knees are starting to bend and shake. I
reach around and slide my hands into his jeans, over
his ass, and clutch him, digging my nails into the
flesh and pulling him further into my mouth. 

He looks down and I look up. A meeting of the
minds.

"Krasavitsa," he grunts and I smile around him.
That's one of the first words he taught me. It means
beautiful.

"God...oh God," he moans and his knees finally give
out completely. He collapses back onto his haunches
on the floor and I grin in his face.

"So, greased yet?"

"Oh God, you win, you win. You fucking win."

"Don't I always?"

"Just...just finish. Dana, please. God."

"You're not gonna run off with some blue chick
when I'm done are you?"

"Nnoooo. Just do it. Do it. God. Fuck! Please."

I consider it for a moment, mostly because he seems
so desperate bouncing up and down like that, his
swollen cock sticking straight up in the air. But it's
just not gonna be enough right now. I'm too far
gone to wait even two minutes more.

I shake my head no and his eyes widen in horror,
thinking I'm just going to leave him sitting on the
floor frustrated perhaps. Then I crawl to him and
kiss him again, fill his mouth with my tongue, and
push him down onto his back.

I climb on top of him and straddle him frantically
and grind my crotch down on his. He groans and
laughs into my mouth and I bite his lips.

"I can't...I need, God Alex, just fuck me. Fuck
me...zhivotnoye."

He starts rocking against me and I start to feel like
the friction might be enough in itself to make me
come right now. I'd just enjoy it if I wasn't so
fucking desperate to have him in me. 

"Is that what you think I am? An animal?"

"Mmhmm, as a matter of fact, I do. Is that all right
with you?"

He starts pulling frantically at my clothes with a
deep, guttural moan that vibrates through me.

"All right? God... makes me so hot I can't even
believe it," he half whispers, half pants and I'm
starting to wonder if it's possible to pass out from
excessive arousal. 

I lean down to kiss him again and our tongues lap at
each other madly. Finally he manages to get my
sweatpants down and off and I'm lying naked on top
of him. He's still fully clothed except for his
protruding cock but I don't really care. 

I position myself over him and take just the tip of
him inside me. 

"Ya tebya lublu," he mumbles quickly and then
thrusts upwards, filling me completely. I moan
around a smile and wonder if he'll ever say it in
English. He says those words almost every day,
almost every time we make love. He would have to
think me a total idiot to think I didn't know what it
means. I know and he knows I know but I suppose
we both like to pretend it's a big old secret. 

And I can't complain really because I've never even
said it to him in Russian, never mind English. I want
to. I never said it to Mulder either despite the fact
that he told me more than once and I regret it to this
day. I don't want that to happen with Alex. But still,
every time I think of saying it, I get a frog in my
throat. 

He says it again and I sigh. I kiss him. I tighten
around him. 

"God, Alex, feel so good. Mmmmmgod."

"Yeah, baby. Yeah," he huffs and I feel him
throbbing inside me, filling me. I haven't even started
moving yet and we're both so close to orgasm it's
not even funny. We are so...God, what in the world
are we. I feel like I'm going to cry. It's so good I'm
going to cry. 

And then, just when I think my brain might explode,
Ret starts barking and I hear something. Something
awful. Something that absolutely cannot be real. I
hear the door opening. 

"Boss?" a voice I recognize immediately calls out.
It's Bryan. It's fucking Bryan. And we're fucking on
the floor. We're partially shielded by the couch but
when I look up, our eyes meet and he immediately
turns his back. 

I pull off of Alex and scramble around frantically on
the floor for my clothes. As I redress Alex just lies
on the floor, panting and staring at the ceiling for a
minute. Then he buttons up his pants and stands up. 

"Um...sorry Sir. I didn't mean to interrupt," poor
Bryan mutters as he turns back to us. 

"WHAT IS IT?!" 

I bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Despite
my frustration with a capital F it really is kind of
funny. Alex is beet red and sweating, panting and
heaving, running his fingers through his hair over
and over, erection still pressing against his jeans.
Bryan looks absolutely terrified.

"Sorry. There, uh, there've been some intruders."

This is suddenly not so funny anymore. I stand up
now, fully dressed finally, and Alex and I glance
nervously at each other. 

"Intruders? How many intruders?" he asks.

"Two. A man and a woman. We thought you'd want
to know, to decide what to do with them."

Alex nods slowly and rubs his hand over his face,
realizing we're going to have to leave our
celebration till later.

"Fuck," he grumbles under his breath. Then he looks
at me again hungrily and I don't really know what
swooning is but I think I do it. "FUCK!" 

"What do they want Bryan?" I ask.

"Um, actually, they seem to want you."

"What?" Alex and I say simultaneously.

"Well, one of them does anyway. He just keeps
yelling. He says he wants to see Scully."

xxxxxx

end chapter 12
end book one

** Still there? Wow! Thanks for reading this far. I
promise to get book two out in as speedy a fashion
as possible. If you're interested, I will be posting the
chapters on my site as they are finished but I won't
be posting publically until the whole book is done.
The addy for the site is
http://members.aol.com/ranton1013/page/index.htm