Even as they got off the plane at O'Hare, Scully and Mulder were arguing about where to go first. She wanted to go to the police station to interview Detective Clark Morgan, the man who had investigated the death of Joseph Thielen. Mulder wanted to talk to him as well, but first, he wanted to talk to the people at the hospital where Thielen had been pronounced dead. The case was an odd one. A man killed by a shot gun owned by a dead man and then having it ruled as a suicide, mainly at the insistence of the detective in charge. The family had not argued the ruling either. Very odd. It was an obvious murder and Mulder knew that there had to be a lot more there than met the eye and he wanted to find it. Scully was looking forward to a normal case for a change. This was nothing more than a pleasant trip to Chicago, an escape from the humidity of Washington, D.C. 95 degrees in Chicago was a Hell of a lot better than 95 degrees in the nations capital when the humidity was hovering at 89 percent.

They got a rental car, then drove away from the airport.

"So we decided on the police station, right?" she asked, looking up from her map.

"You decided on the police station. I'm driving, remember?" he glanced sideways, a smile playing around his lips as he waited for her reaction.

She knew he was playing a game with her and she shook her head. "Okay, let's head to the hospital then."

"I thought you wanted to interview Detective Morgan?" he asked, frowning.

"I do, but he's not going anywhere. Wherever you want to go first is fine with me."

"Oh. Well, we might as well talk to him first, see what he has to say."

"Whatever." Scully looked back down at the map, trying to hide her smile. It felt so good to win.

********************************

Clark Morgan was frowning as he entered his captain's office. They had told him at the desk when he came back from lunch that two FBI agents were there to see him. He didn't have the first clue as to what the Feds would want from him, but he would soon find out.

"I hope you had a good lunch," Captain Monroe said.

"Yes, sir, I did." He turned to the agents. "I was told that you want to talk to me?"

"That's right. I'm Fox Mulder and this is my partner, Dana Scully. We'd like to ask you a few questions about the Joseph Thielen case."

"Why don't you take the agents to the interrogation room?" The captain suggested, anxious to get them out of his office.

"Sure."

They followed Clark there and they all sat down at the long table which dominated the room.

"I really don't understand why the FBI would be interested in this case. It was a suicide and was closed two weeks ago."

"We realize that, Detective Morgan," Scully began, "But, there are some unusual aspects to this case."

"For instance, the victim was killed with a gun that was registered to a man that's been dead for several years. The gun had no fingerprints on it at all, and yet you had no problem calling it a suicide." Mulder said.

"The family had been through a lot. Mr. Thielen was a suspected child molester. We interviewed a lot of suspects, but couldn't find anyone with the opportunity to have killed him. In my report, I stated that Mr. Thielen had apparently stolen the shotgun from the apartment of his nephew, who had been roommates with the gun's owner. It wasn't until Mr. Thielen's death that it was discovered that the gun was missing."

"Dennis Gant, Junior was the registered owner, correct?" Mulder asked.

"That's correct. He died years ago and his father flew up here from Atlanta to pack his belongings and ship them back to Atlanta. He never opened any of the boxes that he packed back then, so he had no idea the gun was missing."

"And your theory is that while Mr. Gant was packing away his sons belongings, Mr. Thielen entered the apartment and stole it?" Scully asked.

"That's right."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Mulder didn't look so satisfied.

"And no one saw this man leaving with the gun? No one saw him there?"

"Apparently not. If they did, then by now they've forgotten all about it."


After spending two hours talking with Clark Morgan, the agents left not knowing any more than they did before they arrived. They were however, armed with the official case report, which did include the full autopsy results. They were just about to get into their car when an uniformed officer approached them.

"Excuse me, but you guys are the FBI agents sent to look into the Joseph Thielen case, right?"

"That's right," Mulder responded. "And you are?"

"Officer Dwight Evans. I was working with Detective Morgan on the case. I'm the one who called the FBI Look, I have some information for you, but I don't want to give it to you here. Can we meet later?"

"Okay. When do you get off duty?" Scully asked.

"Six. I can meet you around seven. Do you know where the Navy Pier is?"

"We can find it."

"Great. Wait for me by the Ferris Wheel, I'll find you."

"We'll be there," Mulder replied. Then the officer casually walked away.

Mulder and Scully got into the car. "Well, I suggest that we put off the rest of the interviews until we read through the case report. I'm anxious to hear what Officer Evans has to say," Mulder said.

"I agree. Shall we go the hotel then? We can go over the report there and have some relative peace and quiet."

"Sounds good. You did make us reservations somewhere, right?" Skinner had taken them aside before they left and gave them a big lecture about watching their overhead on this trip. No expensive rental cars. No fancy hotel rooms. That didn't mean they had to stay in a dump, but it certainly put a damper on what Mulder wanted to do.

"I told you that already. I'm not risking your choices any more, Mulder. We have two rooms at the Lakeshore Inn. It's not a part of a chain, but it received nice reviews in the Triple A book."

********************************************

Mulder and Scully discovered that reading the official case report didn't tell them much more than what Clark Morgan verbally told them. Interviews were conducted, theories considered and abandoned until he finally reached the conclusion that Joseph Thielen had, indeed, killed himself. The autopsy could neither verify nor refute that conclusion. Joseph Thielen died from a gunshot wound to the head. The detective never addressed the issue regarding the fact that no fingerprints were found on the gun. The file itself was small, with the photos of the crime scene creating the only bulk in the folder. The agents left early to go to the Navy Pier, deciding to eat before meeting Officer Evans. They hoped he had something which would show them why this case was worth investigating.

At seven, they were waiting in the appointed spot. By five after seven, Officer Evans had joined them.

"Let's take a walk," he suggested. He had a large envelope with him, tucked carefully under one arm.

"Did Detective Morgan give you a copy of his report?" he asked as they headed down the pier.

"He gave us the file itself. Nothing remarkable in there. I can see where there might be a few holes, but nothing to suggest that Joseph Thielen was murdered," Scully replied.

"Yeah. But, that's because he removed a good portion of his notes before he asked the Captain to close the case. I have them here." Evans handed the envelope to Scully. "Please don't look at it now. I don't know what would happen if the Captain found out I called in the FBI"

"We can look it over later. Can you tell us how you obtained this information?" Mulder asked.

"Detective Morgan asked me to shred some paperwork for him. Pretty routine stuff. Then I noticed that included in the routine paperwork were his notes. Not just copies of his notes, but his actual notes. I've worked with Clark on a lot of cases, and he makes detailed notes for each case. I was with him during some of the interviews and I knew who he considered to be prime suspects in the death of Joseph Thielen. I also know that he never once believed that the man committed suicide. It was like, one day, Clark was so hot to find Thielen's murderer, and the next day he was releasing the man's body for burial. He finally convinced the Captain to close the case. Thielen's family, or I should say, his wife's family, has connections in the Chicago P.D. I didn't stand a chance on getting the case reopened. That's why I called the FBI. I think that once you read what's missing from the official file, then you'll agree that things just aren't right with this case."

"We'll certainly keep an open mind, Officer Evans. Thank you for bringing this to our attention," Mulder replied.

"I only want to see justice done, even if Joseph Thielen was a scumbag who preyed on children."

"That's supposedly the reason he killed himself, right? He mentioned in his suicide note that he was guilty as charged," Mulder noted.

"That's what the note said. I don't know if he really typed that note. Read Clark's notes, then let me know what you think. My number is in there as well. Just please don't mention my name to anyone."

"We won't," Scully assured him.

"Thanks. Well, enjoy the Pier." He turned away from them and walked back the way they had come.

"Well, this is getting more interesting," Mulder commented. "Doesn't make it a case for the X-files, but definitely interesting."

"It sure is. Shall we head back to the hotel to read what's in here?" Scully held up the envelope.

"Why not?"

It was after eight when they reached their hotel. Scully paused in the doorway of her room. "Aren't you coming in?"

Mulder shook his head. "I don't think so. I'd like to go out for a while, get a feel for the city." He wanted to find a gay bar and see if he could pick up someone for the night, but he thought she might faint dead away if he told her that.

"Okay. I'll read over these notes and fill you in on the details over breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan to me. Maybe you'll find that Officer Evans is just paranoid and we can fly home tomorrow."

"Maybe. I somehow doubt it though. Good night."

"Good night." He watched as she went on into her room, then he went to his room to freshen up. Minutes later, he was back in the rental car and headed for the heart of Chicago's gay community.

*************************************************

Mulder paused just inside the door of the bar. He had been to Chicago before, so he knew this place. Knew what to expect. He ignored the stares of the other patrons and made his way to the bar, perching upon an empty stool and surprising the bartender by ordering an iced tea. Drink in hand, he turned around to survey the room, looking for the special person who would make his evening complete.

The men in the room all seemed to be with someone already. It figured. He had waited too late to go out, and even then, he had trouble deciding on which bar to cruise. He had been successful at this one before though, and had hoped for success tonight. He felt a tinge of guilt at the thought of leaving Scully alone to read Detective Morgan's notes, but she had volunteered to read them and he had seen no reason to hang around her room while she did so. If she had any suspicions about where he was going, she kept them to herself. There were times though, when he was sure that she knew where he went, what he was looking for. She certainly knew that there were many mornings on the road when he did not wake up alone.

With a sigh, he turned back around, resigning himself to watching the gay porn video currently on the television screen. Then he felt a presence approach him and he looked to his right to see a young man headed his way from the direction of the men's room. He was tall, at least his own height. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin. It was obvious he didn't get out in the sun often. He moved with a fluid grace as he approached the empty stool next to Mulder's. Dressed casually in slacks and a dark blue button down shirt, he looked delectable and Mulder immediately knew that he was the one for him tonight. The man picked up the beer glass in front of him and took a long drink. Mulder simply stared at him, waiting for the young man to talk to him. He knew he would eventually. Staring at the object of his desire always made said object uneasy and then talkative.

But, this guy apparently had nerves of steel. Mulder kept an eye on his watch, noting how many minutes were passing by without this guy turning to look at him. Perhaps he was waiting to meet his boyfriend and had no interest in a stranger? Mulder hoped not. He really wanted to peel that shirt off his body and taste his skin. Wanted to see if his chest was smooth or hairy. Was he cut or uncut? Married or single? He hoped he wasn't married, but if he was, well, he wouldn't be the first married man Mulder had slept with. Well, he mused, sipping on his beer, good things were worth waiting for, right? So, he would continue to wait for this guy to notice him.

****************************

John Carter had a death grip on his beer glass. He still didn't know why in the Hell he had decided to go to a gay bar. Well, he knew why, he just didn't know why he was still here. Ever since he had started therapy after his uncle's death, he had found himself reliving the things that Joe had done with him. Done to him. Made him do. He would leave each session feeling dirty and ashamed of the way his body had betrayed him back then. Then he would spend the entire ride home wondering if the reason he couldn't manage a decent relationship with a woman was because he was gay. Nina Pomerantz finally got tired of hearing him question his sexual orientation and told him to go to a gay bar and see if he found himself attracted to another man. After that, they would talk about it some more. She was sure that he would say he had not been attracted to anyone. Hell, until five minutes ago, she would have been right. He had come into the bar, scared shitless that the men would immediately start hitting on him. That didn't happen. A lot of them looked his way, but only one or two tried to talk to him, and he didn't find himself attracted to them at all. He was in the midst of mentally congratulating his therapist when he realized he needed to go to the bathroom. It took ten minutes for him to get enough courage to head into the men's room. He was half afraid he would be accosted in there or else find men there engaged in all sorts of sex acts. Neither of which happened.

He had headed back to his seat and that's when he stopped congratulating Nina on her insightfulness. There, sitting on the bar stool next to his own, was a most incredible man. He wasn't movie star handsome - not the kind of guy to take his breath away. But he was handsome nonetheless. Casually dressed, brown hair a few shades lighter than his own. Hazel eyes. He wore glasses and they made him look serious as he stared back. John found himself getting hard under the scrutiny of those eyes and as he took his seat he found that he was scared. Scared that this man would talk to him, ask him questions about himself. Show an interest in him as a person. He was afraid that the man would ask him to leave with him and John was afraid he would say yes to that invitation. He didn't know what to do. He supposed he could be the one to "break the ice" so to speak, and begin the conversation, but he didn't know what to say. Would he offend the guy if he asked him if he was hard for him, too? Even though this was a gay bar, the guy still might get offended, and John knew he didn't want to offend this guy. He wanted this guy to like him.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he never noticed the man was still staring at him. At least, not until the bartender pointed it out to him.

"Another beer? Michelob again?" He gestured with his eyes toward Mulder, drawing John's attention there.

"No, how about Heineken this time?"

The bartender nodded, and as he began to move away, Mulder interjected, "Heineken? Fuck that shit! Pabst Blue Ribbon!"

The bartender looked bored and walked away, and the man who'd ordered looked puzzled. Mulder was embarrassed. "Obviously you haven't seen it."

"Seen what?"

"Blue Velvet." At the continued confused look, Mulder said helplessly, "Movie. Mid- 80's. Dennis Hopper. It's a classic. Of its kind, I guess."

"Uh-huh. I'll take your word for that." He extended his hand to shake. "John Carter."

"Fox Mulder." Normally he played it smooth in these situations, but he felt like he was at a disadvantage here. The bartender arrived back, gave Mulder an arch look, and said, "You want me to pour it?"

"No, forget it," Mulder said. "He hasn't seen the movie."

"A man with taste then, for a change."

They were left alone again, and John said, "Should I ask?"

"He was feeding me another line from the movie. He said, 'do you want me to pour it?' and I was supposed to say, 'no, I want you to fuck it! yes, goddamn pour it!'. I think I give up. I was going for smooth, but I don't think it's working." This was not going at all to plan, not at all.

"You were smooth, until you started talking. Why don't we just try to be a little more straightforward? Fox is an unusual name, by the way."

"Mulder. Everyone calls me Mulder."

"I know how that is. Everyone calls me 'Carter'."

"I think that 'John' fits you."

"And 'Fox' suits you."

Mulder glanced at his watch, noting that it was now almost ten. "Well, you said you wanted straightforward: I don't have all night to waste. I want to have sex with you, John. Will you come back to my hotel with me?"

So, it was that easy to get laid, John thought. At least this guy wasn't into playing games. John had never thought about asking outright like that. He had been trying to think of some subtle way to let Mulder know he wanted to be with him, but couldn't go back to his place. Kerry was home and Clark was supposed to stay the night. He knew he would be mortified to wake up in the morning and bring Mulder upstairs to end up face to face with Clark and Kerry. For all he knew, Clark might just try to arrest Mulder or something. Ever since he and Kerry had gotten together, Clark acted more like a big brother toward him than as a boyfriend of his landlady. Not that John minded; it was nice in a way. But, he didn't want to get caught by either one bringing home an experiment in sexuality.

"Well?" Mulder prodded.

"Sorry. I was thinking about how easy it was for you to ask that. Yes, I would like to go back to your hotel with you."

Mulder smiled, then tossed some money on the bar to pay for their drinks. "Come on."

As he headed outside with John, Mulder impulsively decided that this would be one night when he wouldn't be taking his pick-up back to his room. He didn't want any part of his time with John to be connected to his job. He mentally went over a list of nice hotels and came up with one that he had liked staying at in the past. So, he decided to head there. Once in the car, Mulder took the opportunity to find out a little bit more about John.

"So, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a doctor. What about you?"

"A doctor?" Shit, the guy couldn't be old enough to be a doctor. "How old are you?"

John groaned. "I get so tired of being asked that. Do you know how often I get told that I don't look old enough to be a doctor?"

"No, but I'm guessing it's a lot."

"You're guessing right."

"So?"

"So what?"

"How old are you?"

"Twenty nine."

"That old, huh?"

"That old. How old are you?"

"Thirty-eight as of this year."

"You never told me what you do for a living."

So, he had noticed. Mulder chalked one up for the doc. "Sorry. I'm in law enforcement."

"Really? You're a cop?"

"FBI agent. I'm here on a special case."

"Where are you from?"

"Originally or recently?"

John paused a moment to consider his answer. "Originally."

"Massachusetts. What about you?"

"Chicago."

"A native son, huh? Have you ever lived anywhere else?"

John laughed. "Yeah. I have. Where do you live now?"

"The D.C. area."

"Inside the Beltway?"

"Yeah. I have an apartment in Alexandria."

"Alexandria's all right, but I prefer D.C. itself. I like being in the middle of things."

"It's a busy city, that's for sure." Mulder pulled into the valet parking lane of one of Chicago's nicer hotels. "We're here. Any second thoughts?"

John slowly shook his head, but Mulder noticed that John's hand was shaking as he reached for the door handle. He leaned over and gently grasped John's chin in his hand, then turned his head until they were eye to eye once more.

"I'm not going to hurt you, John. There's no reason for you to be scared."

"I...I've never done this kind of thing before. Tonight was the first time I've ever been in a gay bar."

Mulder smiled gently. "I'll go slowly, okay?"

John nodded, very much aware of the warmth of Mulder's fingers upon his skin. So very much aware of how much he liked the way they felt and the fact that he wanted to feel Mulder touching other parts of his body.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" Mulder asked, letting him go.

They got out of the car and Mulder handed the keys to one of the valets. John followed Mulder inside, slightly surprised to see that Mulder was headed for the registration desk and not to the elevators. He waited while Mulder checked into the hotel, and he knew his smile was a nervous one when Mulder shortly returned to him with a key card in his hand.

"Room 812. Non-smoking all right for you?" Mulder asked.

John nodded. "It's fine. I can help pay for the room." John wasn't sure what to make of the fact that Mulder had rented a special room for them to...to do what it was they were going to do. Was this a normal pick-up procedure or did it have another meaning? Was there some way he could discreetly ask Yosh about things like this? John didn't think he knew any other gay men.

"I can assure you that I have more than enough money to cover the room, John. I may be a Fed, but my family has done well over the years." Mulder replied as they stepped into the elevator.

"I can identify with that," John muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing."

They rode the rest of the way in silence. When they got out on the eighth floor, John was relieved to see that they were alone in the hallway. He suddenly felt very self-conscious about what he was about to do and he waited nervously while Mulder unlocked the door. Switching on the light, Mulder announced, "It's not the Palmer House, but it will do."

The room wasn't bad at all, John thought. A King sized bed dominated the spacious room. John had been in plenty of hotel rooms in his life and the familiarity of this one helped him feel a little more calm. Still, despite the luxuriousness of the room, John knew that this door was a walk in closet and the other door opened into the bathroom. Probably a marble sink and sunken tub. Soft cotton towels. A mini bar anchored one corner of the room and the sliding glass doors led out onto a balcony with an impressive view of the city.

Mulder locked the door, then silently cursed himself for not bringing anything with him. But, then again, his original intention had been to pick up a guy and take him back to the hotel. He would need to go downstairs to see if there was a nearby store. And yet, he didn't want to just rush out right now. He could still sense John's nervousness and he didn't think that leaving him behind to go shopping would lessen that. Hell, he would probably get back to the room and find John gone. He supposed that they would have to go together. He wasn't going to risk losing out on the chance to be with John.

"I hadn't planned on coming here, so I don't have anything."

"That's okay. You can call down to the front desk for things like that. Provided there isn't anything in the bathroom," John said.

"Call downstairs for condoms and lube? I doubt if they'd send that up here."

John grinned. "You'd be surprised what they would do. It says right here on your receipt that if you left anything at home or need anything extra, that all you have to do is call down to the desk."

Mulder was often bold, but the idea of calling down to the desk clerk for those items didn't sit right with him. "I'll check the bathroom first." Much to his surprise, he did find condoms in a drawer in the vanity. And lubrication as well. Also massage oil and bubble bath for the large whirlpool tub. Just the thought of taking John Carter in that tub made him hard and he hurried back into the bedroom to make sure that John hadn't quietly left.

John was outside on the balcony, looking out over the city. Mulder stepped up behind him and began to nibble on the back of his neck.

"I guess you found what you were looking for?" John asked as he leaned back against Mulder's chest, feeling surprised by how natural that felt.

"And then some. There's a whirlpool tub in there and I was thinking we should try that out tonight." As the words left Mulder's lips, he could feel John's body tense and he knew that the nervousness was back. Mulder needed to find a way to get John to relax and he finally decided that the whirlpool would definitely be good for that. But, not for sex. First they would just enjoy the warm water. "Come on."

John didn't resist as Mulder took him by the hand and led him back inside, going directly for the bathroom. So, it was time, he thought. Time to find out if he could really do this. Time to find out if he really wanted to do this. Hell, if he listened to his body, then it was obvious that he wanted to do this. He was excited about the thought of being with Mulder. But, he was also a little scared about it, too. John leaned against the marble sink as Mulder closed the door, then sat on the edge of the tub to start the water. As the tub was filling, he walked back over to John, pulling him close and molding their bodies together. He could feel John's erection through his pants and knew that John couldn't miss the one he was sporting. He clasped the back of his neck, holding him steady as their lips met. As he felt John's tension begin to fade, Mulder began to wonder if John's comment about never doing this before was referring to getting picked up in a bar or having sex with a man? He was about to guess the latter because John just wasn't getting into the kiss at all. Then, he felt the slightest movement of John's lips and they parted for him.

John felt Mulder's tongue slip into his mouth and slide over his teeth. A tingle went down his body as Mulder explored his mouth and the back of his neck was on fire where Mulder was touching him. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Mulder's waist, holding onto him even as he felt Mulder's other hand, which had been around his waist, drift lower until it was cupping his ass. Yes, he shouted in his mind, this was what he wanted. He pushed his erection into Mulder's, wishing their clothing wasn't in the way. Mulder must have been wishing the same thing because John was pushed back against the cold tile of the wall, then Mulder's hands disappeared from his ass and neck. Mulder used his lips to hold him in place while his hands pulled his shirt from his waistband and began to unbutton his shirt. He gasped as he felt Mulder's hands on his skin and Mulder took the break in their kissing to lower his mouth to nuzzle John's neck.

"Oh, God, don't stop," John moaned.

"Never," Mulder vowed as he licked his way up John's neck and then began to suck on his ear lobe. He liked the way John squirmed under his touch and he wanted to feel John's skin against his own. He quickly shed his own shirt, then pressed his chest against John's, reveling in the skin to skin contact.

"Shouldn't...we...get...into the tub?" John managed to ask.

"Be patient," Mulder murmured, but then he realized that John had a point. He stepped back and kicked off his shoes, then undid his pants, knowing that John was watching him undress. "Your turn," he grinned as his pants joined his shirt on the floor.

John slipped his shoes off, then removed his socks. He kept his eyes on Mulder as he undid his belt, then undid the button on his waistband before lowering the zipper and his pants. John was wondering which one of them would be totally stripped first when Mulder dropped to his knees in front of him and quickly pulled his boxers down. John stepped out of them and looked down to see that Mulder was staring at his hard penis, his eyes almost glassy as he gazed upon his body.

"You really do want me, don't you?" Mulder asked as he gingerly reached out to stroke John's hardness. He wasn't prepared for the reaction he got as John jerked away from his touch, then stepped away from him, his breath rapid and his face paler, as if that was possible.

Mulder got to his feet and approached John from behind. He tenderly grasped his shoulders, kneading them as he waited for John's breathing to return to normal.

"I'm sorry," John muttered.

"Don't worry about it. Are you okay?"

John nodded and Mulder turned him around. He wanted to gather John to him, hold him close and chase away the fear he could still see in those dark eyes. But, he didn't think that was what John needed right now, so he kept him at arms length. It was obvious to him now that John had never been with a man before. Damn. He was going to be his first. That made things so different. You couldn't go immediately for the sex with a virgin. A virgin had to be seduced, even if he had initiated the encounter by going to a gay bar.

"Stay here," he ordered, then he went back to the tub and poured a generous amount of bubble bath into the water. It was high enough for them to get in, even if it wasn't to the level where he could turn on the whirlpool jets.

"I think we can get in now," Mulder said as he took the first step into the hot water. He got comfortable in the tub, then looked expectantly at John, who quickly joined him in the water.

"This is nice," Mulder said.

"Yeah," John nodded.

They sat there for a few more minutes, neither one saying anything. When the water finally passed the jets, Mulder tried to turn on the whirlpool. The expected button didn't work -- it turned on a showerhead -- and Mulder continued to press all the buttons. Finally, one of them worked, but the expected surge of water as the whirlpool started was matched by a surge of panic. The bubbles were multiplying far too quickly for Mulder's liking. They neared the top of the tub as Mulder's button pressing grew more frantic.

"Problem?" John asked, a hint of barely restrained laughter in his voice. He watched Mulder for another few moments, then pressed the correct button, cutting off the water jets. "Was that what you were looking for?"

"You son of a bitch." Mulder shook his head, smiling. "You got a kick out of that, didn't you?"

"Yeah...I admit it. I was enjoying it."

Mulder leaned back and groaned. "This is *so* not what I had planned. It's not supposed to happen like this."

"What is supposed to happen? Show me."

Mulder moved closer to John, putting one arm around his shoulders and using his free hand to gently stroke John's skin.

John sighed as he relaxed into Mulder's touch. This felt so good. He laid his head back against Mulder's arm and looked up at the ceiling. He grinned, thinking that it was a shame that the hotel could charge so much money but not have the money to spend on removing what appeared to be a cork in embedded in the ceiling. A champagne cork to be exact, he silently amended. Then it hit him that he had seen that particular cork before. Hell, he was the one responsible for it being there. He had been in this room, in this tub, with Harper Tracy, celebrating the fact he had matched with County General for his internship. He had impulsively asked her out for lunch and they ended up here, having sex in the tub. He only left the tub once during that long lunch, and that was to answer the door when room service brought up the champagne he had ordered. Excited about staying at County and wanting to show off, John had given the bottle a good shake before opening it. He barely pushed on the cork and it shot upward, lodging in the ceiling. He did try to get it down, but Harper had other ideas about how they were to spend the rest of their lunch break. Yeah, that had been some day. He had almost lost his match because of that lunch, but Doctor Hicks had taken pity on him or something, and he had kept his spot.

And now here he was again, at another important milestone in his life. Dear God, what direction was his life taking? Had it been all that long ago when he was crazy about her? Wanting to spend every waking minute with Harper and even sneaking around the hospital to find secluded places where they could make out. He had enjoyed every second of that. Enjoyed her body. And yet, here he was in the same whirlpool with a man. A man he didn't know. For all that Mulder had seemed so open and up front with him, he could be lying about everything. His job, his name. All of it. And yet, John didn't really believe that to be the case. He trusted Fox Mulder. The element of trust, somehow, had always been missing with Harper. She'd betrayed him even before their relationship got off the ground. If they'd admitted it to themselves, they'd have realized it was doomed from the start. Sexual attraction alone had gotten them through the months they'd spent together. Powerful as that had been, it was matched by the attraction John felt for the man he was with tonight.

Mulder was watching John's face and eyes and he saw that John was doing far too much thinking and obviously not about good things.

"Hey? You all right?"

John nodded. "Yeah. Fine. Just thinking about how I panicked earlier. Sorry about that."

"Don't be. I just wished I'd realized it was your first time with a man. I'd have taken things a bit slower."

"No, you wouldn't have."

"Okay, no...I wouldn't have. But I would have tried."

"It isn't my first time," John rushed to say, turning serious. "Well, it is for some things. But, not for everything. I...I've had oral sex with a man before. It's been a long time though. And look...I might as well be honest...it wasn't consensual." He sighed, relieved at admitting what was bothering him, and a little apprehensive about Mulder's reaction.

"So that was why you were a little uneasy earlier."

"A little? That's an understatement."

Mulder was silent for a few moments. "I suppose you've talked this through with someone...a therapist? Look...I don't know what happened, obviously, but if it was non-consensual, you didn't choose to have that happen to you, and you shouldn't feel *any* guilt about it. But if you're still feeling some...confusion, then you should think it through some more. I wouldn't want...this", he indicated the tub with a wave of his hand, "to be something you don't want. Sometimes impulsive decisions are good, but sometimes not."

"Maybe it was impulsive to come here, but I have given other things a lot of thought lately, and yeah, I've talked to a therapist. It's true that this is the first time I've chosen to be with a guy, but...I think it's the right choice. I think you're the right choice. I want you, Mulder. Really. I'm just not sure I can do everything. Will you be okay with that?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay with that. If you're sure...we'll just take it slow. So what *don't* you want to do?"

"Oral sex. I don't think I can do that."

Well, there went half the fun, Mulder mused. But, to be honest, he hadn't asked John what he would and wouldn't do with him. He just asked him if he wanted to come back to his hotel room to have sex, and he did. They never talked about just what that sex would entail.

"That's all right, John. I don't need to have that in order to enjoy myself. And I don't want you to think about any of that right now. Just let the water relax you."

John grinned. "It's hard to relax when you keep touching me like that."

Mulder grinned as well, as much from John's choice of words as from the fact that he was having an erotic effect on him. "Get on my lap."

John's eyebrows raised at that suggestion, but he did as asked, straddling Mulder's legs and feeling a tremor run through his body as their bodies touched in a most intimate way.

Mulder cradled the back of John's neck with one hand and pulled him down to kiss him, gently exploring his mouth with his tongue while his other hand continued to explore John's body. By the way that John was clutching his shoulders, Mulder knew that he was succeeding with the seduction. All he needed was a little more patience and then things could proceed to the bed. Or not, as the case might be.

Mulder broke off the kiss and told John to turn around. Again, John did as instructed and Mulder slowly pulled him back against his chest, molding their bodies together and knowing that John couldn't miss the feel of his penis against his backside. Mulder was all too aware of where his penis was touching, but, he concentrated on putting John at ease and he let his hands roam over John's body, barely skimming his skin at times and firmly caressing him at others.

"Is this okay, baby?" he huskily asked.

John turned to look at him, amused. "'Baby'?"

Mulder sighed slightly, embarrassed. "Give me a break here...I'm trying to seduce you, you know. Calling a guy "baby" isn't the norm for me."

John laughed out loud, the last of his tension easing. "Mulder, look at us. I'm sitting on your lap in a bubble bath in a hotel room. I don't think seduction is necessary."

Mulder laughed, "You do have a point there. I just wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with what's going to happen. To be honest, John, I went to that bar tonight for the sole intention of finding someone to have sex with. I was just about to leave the place when I saw you. There weren't any other men there who interested me, and I really want to spend tonight with you."

"Really? I was going to leave once I finished my beer and for the same reason you said. No one interested me. I didn't go there for sex though. I went there to see if I found someone I desired. I finally did."

Mulder couldn't keep himself from grinning as he heard that. "I guess it was meant for us to be in that bar at the same time, huh?"

"Yeah," John replied.

While he liked the way John's hard penis felt in his hand, Mulder wanted to do more than just hold him in his hand. "I think we should get out of the tub."

"Tell me what we're going to do after that," John said, trying his best to not sound as nervous as he felt.

Mulder gently caressed John's hips as he heard the anxiety in his voice. " I want to get you ready for me, John. Very ready for me. I want you to enjoy your first time so much that you'll think of me every time you have sex with another man."

"Think you're that good, hmm?" John asked as he got to his feet.

Mulder chuckled, glad to hear from John's tone of voice that he wasn't as anxious as he had been a moment earlier. "You can let me know later, okay?"

"Okay." John nodded again.

They quickly dried off, each one wanting to still be touching the other's body. But, John wasn't sure if Mulder would want to be dried off and Mulder didn't want to make John anxious again. Once dry, they went into the bedroom and Mulder turned down the covers. As he indicated that John should get on the bed, John saw a bottle of massage oil in Mulder's hand. And condoms in the other. "On your stomach, okay? I want to give you a back rub."

John nodded his consent, then got into the bed and stretched out on his stomach. He couldn't keep from tensing as he felt Mulder straddle his hips. He could feel the man's balls against the rounded top of his buttocks. Then he felt Mulder's hands on his shoulders as they began to slowly massage his tight muscles. Mulder's fingers and the palms of his hands were hot, but they felt good against John's skin. He sighed and burrowed his head into the pillow as the tension left his body, thinking that this felt very right indeed.

Mulder leaned down to plant a kiss between John's shoulder blades, half expecting him to tense up again. He was pleased when that didn't happen. He tentatively ran his tongue from that spot to the tip of the right shoulder blade and then across John's back to the tip of the other one. The only reaction he got was a shiver beneath him. Feeling bold, Mulder then continued to run his tongue down John's spine, scooting further down on the bed as his mouth went lower and lower on that long body until he had reached the firm mounding of his buttocks. That was when John became tense once more, and Mulder removed his hands, thinking that he might be proceeding a bit too quickly. He wasn't used to the necessity of stretching out an encounter, but thought it might be nice for a change.

Noting that John seemed a little more relaxed now, Mulder got up from the bed and handed him one of the terry bathrobes. "Let's slow things down a little. Tell you what. How about you go get us some ice, and I'll pick out a movie and order us some room service?"

"Room service. Movie."

"Yeah." Mulder said, nodding as he began to look for the booklet that listed the movie offerings.

"How should I put this? I didn't think we were exactly...well...going to eat sandwiches and watch the latest chick flick." John couldn't help but sound disappointed.

"That wasn't what I was planning on." Mulder felt slightly defensive at John's skeptical look. He felt, for some reason, like he was the inexperienced one, and it annoyed him. "Go on, and I'll figure out the pay-per-view and the mini-bar."

"Now it's the mini-bar? You're only going to spring for a jar of macadamia nuts and a can of beer? Cheap bastard." John laughed, and dodged the ice bucket as it was tossed at him.

"Fuck you, John. Ice. Go!" As John left, finally, Mulder picked up the phone and looked at the menu. He wanted to order champagne, even oysters maybe, but was sure he'd have been teased if John were in the room. Besides, he really did want to check out the pay-per-view. Porn, good porn, might set the mood he wanted. "Men in the Sand"? That could work.

Carter returned some minutes later, filled ice bucket in hand. He hadn't counted on having to explore the hotel corridors, smelling of massage oil, and wearing only a glorified towel. He hadn't run into anyone, but was met at the door by a room service worker, bearing a tray and a couple of bottles of champagne. Carter signed for the bill, and, remembering the mistake he made in the abbreviated stay with Harper, added on a generous tip.

Once inside the room, John sat the tray on the table, then uncovered the dishes, wondering what he'd find. "Oysters, Mulder? You shouldn't have. Strawberries...green M&Ms." John laughed as he continued exploring the tray. "Bananas? Now that's subtle." He uncorked one of the bottles of champagne, and poured two glasses. "Mulder?" John asked, scooping up a handful of M&M's and popping them into his mouth.

He received no reply. Mulder was lying on the bed, completely absorbed in the movie he was watching. John took a look, expecting to see a group of naked or near-naked men contorted into impossible, but pleasurable positions. What he saw instead were...aliens. It wasn't an alien autopsy documentary, but an honest-to-goodness horror flick, with fifties-style Martian aliens, and screaming teenagers.

He flopped on the bed, and watched for a moment. His college roommate had been a sci-fi freak, and John knew this movie inside out. It was called "Invasion of the Saucer Men", and it was most definitely not porn. Not that he particularly wanted to watch a movie, or eat, or even drink. "Hey." Still no response from Mulder. "Hey, Romeo...I thought you were supposed to be seducing me."

Mulder turned lazily towards him, grinning. "You said seduction wasn't necessary."

"Maybe I should have said *convincing* me isn't necessary. But I'd like to be seduced."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So turn off that damned movie and get your ass up here."

"Or?"

"Or I've got a lot of ice here, and a lot of places I could put it."

Mulder switched off the movie. A lap full of ice would definitely put him out of commission for awhile. "So you want just my ass?"

"I want everything. Take your robe off."

To be continued...

Mulder got to his feet and slowly untied the belt. Having John make demands for his own pleasure hadn't been in his plans either, but Mulder found himself aroused at the idea of obeying John's orders...to a point, at least. There were too many things that he knew he could do to drive John crazy, things that John had no idea were possible, and for them to happen, Mulder would have to take control of things. But, they had all night.

John smiled lazily as he watched Mulder's robe fall to the floor. "That's better. Now bring me my champagne."

Mulder grabbed the full glasses, then went to walk around to John's side of the bed. He forgot about his bathrobe being on the floor; that is, until his foot became entangled in the terry cloth material. Mulder's arms cartwheeled as he fought to regain his balance, totally forgetting about the champagne, which went flying everywhere.

"God, I'm glad you're the one paying for this room," John said, shaking his head and trying to not laugh at the expression on Mulder's face.

This is so not what I had planned, Mulder thought, for the hundredth time that night. At least that's the way it felt to him. Usually, he was mister smooth. He would walk into the bar, pick up a nice looking guy, head back to the hotel and have his way. He always got his way. The encounters would be direct and to the point. Go to the room, mess around a bit, have sex, clean up and then kick the guy out with a meaningless platitude about how great it was and how he would like to get together the next time he made it to that town. Neither one of them would believe that Mulder was telling the truth, but they would both pretend to believe it.

And tonight should have worked the same way. When Mulder stepped into that bar he had intended for it to follow every other pick up. But the minute he looked into John Carter's eyes all of that had gone right out the window. Mulder didn't want this to be an ordinary pick up. He wanted it to be special and it had nothing to do with the fact that he would be John's first. Not that the fact didn't thrill him. But, it wasn't why Mulder wanted it to be extra special. And here he was, messing up left and right, stumbling around like a gawky teenager.

"Are you okay?" John's voice interrupted Mulder's ruminations.

Mulder nodded. "Yeah. Nothing broken. But the glasses are empty. Let me try that again."

"Maybe I should get the champagne," John said.

"You're the one calling the shots right now," Mulder replied. He leaned back against the dresser, admiring the view. John's own bathrobe was half-open, revealing his lean legs and most of his body.

"Yeah, but if I recall correctly, this," John waved his hand in the air, vaguely indicating the food laden table, "was your idea, so don't complain." He got off the bed, took the glasses from Mulder and went to refill them. As he walked back to Mulder, John took a long sip of the wine. He handed a glass to Mulder, then got back on the bed.

Mulder couldn't help but notice that even more of John's body was exposed this time around. If John had been any other pick up, then Mulder would have known that the skin exposure had been done on purpose. But, with John, Mulder knew it was innocent. And that turned him on.

Mulder's eyes danced with humor as he watched John's face. It was obvious that John was trying to decide what to do next, so Mulder decided to help him out some. "You know, I can think of better ways to drink champagne." He stepped over to the side of the bed.

"Oh?"

Mulder nodded, then slightly tipped his glass, letting a few drops of the champagne drop onto John's exposed thigh. John jerked a bit from the coldness of the liquid, but he was grinning as he watched Mulder drop to his knees beside the bed so he could lean over to lap up the champagne.

"You missed a spot," John said as he struggled to remain in control of his body. Mulder's tongue felt good against his skin and John was very much aware of the fact that he was once more hard.

"Where?" Mulder looked up at him, looking for direction.

"Right here." John pointed to the inside of his thigh. "It ran a little."

"Did it now?" Mulder's head bent down once more and John sighed as he felt that warm tongue glide over his skin.

"I think I like your method of drinking, Mulder."

Mulder grinned as he got to his feet. "I thought you would. I have an idea," he impulsively said. It had occurred to him that John might enjoy a "game" or two, and Mulder was pretty good at making things up as he went along.

"What?"

"We're going to play hide and seek?"

John burst out laughing. "You're kidding me, right? You asked me to come here with you so we could have sex and now you want to play a children's game?"

"John, I assure you that this game has nothing in it that will remind you of what you played when you were a child. Trust me."

John thought about it for only a moment -- why not? If nothing else, this night with Mulder would end up being fun. He nodded.

"Good. Go into the bathroom and count to a hundred. Then come out and follow the trail to find me."

"Follow the trail?" John asked skeptically.

"Yes, follow the trail. Now go." Mulder stood aside so John could get off of the bed. "Wait a sec." Mulder undid the belt to John's robe, then closed the robe properly and tied the belt securely around his waist. "That's much better."

"I feel a little insulted here," John pouted.

Mulder laughed. "I didn't mean it that way. I like your body. I like it a lot. Now, into the bathroom with you." Mulder smacked him on the rear as John walked away. "And remember to count to one hundred."

John paused by the ice bucket long enough to scoop out a few cubes to throw at Mulder. As he closed the bathroom door, he could still hear Mulder laughing.

John looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Count to one hundred? I'm locked in a hotel room with a crazy man, you know that? And I'm too stupid to leave." He shook his head, then turned around and leaned against the counter as he began to count.

Ignoring the urge to count quickly, John finally reached the magic number. He opened the door slightly. "One hundred," he called out. Getting no response, he stepped out. The only light on in the room was a reading lamp, but it enabled John to see that there were M&M's on the floor. Looking down at his feet, he saw that the line, or rather, lines, of candies actually began at the bathroom door. There were three of them. One was obviously a dead end because John could see that it went directly to the closet. Then it occurred to John that Mulder was the type who would hide in the closet, so he followed that trail first, picking up the candies as he went. As he had first thought, the closet was empty. So John went back to the bathroom doorway and chose another trail.

This trail led him to the bed, and as John passed by the table, he deposited the candies there. As he approached the bed, he saw that the trail jumped from the floor to the covers and crossed the bed. John knelt and looked under the bed. Even though the lighting was dim, he was vaguely able to see that there was not a continuing trail of M&M's on the other side. Another dead-end.

This time John didn't go back to the bathroom. It was obvious which trail was the right one to follow and this one led to the sliding glass doors, which were still closed against the hot and humid night. John pushed aside the heavy drapes and saw a few M&M's on the outside of the door. He slid the door open, then stepped out onto the balcony. The temperature had gone down a little since he had been out there earlier. John vaguely wondered how much time had passed since then. At least an hour, maybe two. The sound of a chair moving on the cement caught his attention and he looked to his left to smile at Mulder, who was sprawled deliciously in a corner chair.

"You have a knack for following trails," Mulder acknowledged.

"Thank you. Does that mean I can be a G-man now?"

"No, but it does mean that you get the G-man." Mulder had a broad grin on his face. "It's not so bad out here now. Cooled off quite a bit from earlier today."

John leaned back against the railing, resting his arms on it. "Yeah, it has. So, what now? We've taken a bubble bath, done the massage bit, played a game. Isn't it time for us to, you know?"

"Not yet."

John frowned as a new thought occurred to him. Despite his assurances to the contrary, maybe this was Mulder's first time? Or maybe even a second?

"Um, are you sure that you know what you're doing? I was just asking because you seem to keep coming up with ways for us to not have sex and I was thinking that you might not be sure of things." John had to look away as he said that, not wanting to embarrass Mulder if it were true.

At first, Mulder felt a surge of indignation that John would doubt his abilities. But then he remembered all that had gone wrong tonight and he chuckled as he stood. "I've done this lots of times, John. Don't worry. I've got a lot of things planned for you, and we do have all night."

"Back at the bar, you were worried about running out of time," John reminded him.

"I tend to worry too much." Mulder was now standing in front of John and he undid the belt of the robe, then pushed it open, running his hands up and down John's sides, then around to his buttocks, pulling John against his body. "Kiss me."

"Here? Out on the balcony?"

"Here, out on the balcony. Kiss me." Mulder tilted his hips forward, pressing their bodies together even as he pressed John up against the railing. "I've kissed you, now it's your turn to kiss me."

John brought his hands up, embracing Mulder and holding him in place. Then he tentatively put one hand behind Mulder's neck, keeping the man still as John leaned his head forward to gently press their lips together.

"You can do better than that, John," Mulder said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

John breathed in deeply, then tried again. His kiss still started out gentle, but then he remembered to put some passion into it. When his tongue probed at Mulder's lips, it wasn't gentle at all, and when Mulder let him inside, John forgot all about being nervous over kissing him. Tongues battled for control as hands roamed everywhere, caressing, teasing, and sometimes even pinching. When the kiss ended, they were out of breath.

"So," John asked as he tried to catch his breath, "Was that better?"

"Much better. Much better indeed." Mulder walked back to the table and picked up his glass of champagne. "Thirsty?"

John shook his head. "Not really."

"I am. Come on over here."

John walked over to the table and was just about to sit when Mulder stopped him. "Uh uh. I want you on the table."

"Excuse me?"

"Lay down on the table. It's sturdy enough to hold you. I already checked that out."

"Okay. Back or stomach?"

"Back. I need your stomach."

Mulder was wildly grinning again and John couldn't keep from grinning back. As he gingerly got onto the table, he kept telling himself that this would be a night he could never forget.

"Is this what you want?" John asked.

Mulder looked down at the display before him: John flat on his back, legs slightly apart, his skin flushed with passion and his lips still swollen from the kiss, his cock hard. "Yeah, this is what I want."

The look of desire on Mulder's face almost took John's breath away as looked up at him. John realized right then that even if nothing else happened that night, he would always know in his heart that Mulder had wanted him, faults and all. No questions asked and nothing expected in return. And, being honest with himself, John knew he wanted Mulder the same way.

Their eyes locked on each other, Mulder let a trickle of champagne puddle in the small indentation of John's belly. Then he slowly licked it up, making sure that his tongue went a few places where the champagne had not flowed. He poured out a little more, this time in the area between John's belly button and his cock. As Mulder placed his tongue there, he could feel John's body tense but he figured that if someone had just poured champagne in the same spot on his body, he would be tense also. As much as Mulder wanted to wrap his lips around John's erection, he knew that anticipation made things much better, so he avoided John's cock completely.

Mulder moved so that he was between John's legs and he gently pushed them further apart before running his tongue over a smooth hip, then down to the inside of John's thigh. Switching sides, Mulder reversed the action, ending where he had poured the champagne, but not finding much there. Between the soft breeze blowing off of Lake Michigan and the heat, most of it had evaporated. Mulder corrected that by emptying his glass, then chasing the liquid trails with his tongue.

John's entire body shivered as Mulder's tongue lightly flittered over his anus. It was something that no one had ever done to him and John slightly embarrassed to realize that he wanted Mulder to do that again.

"Is that okay?" Mulder whispered.

John nodded again, "Yes. That was nice."

"Nice?" Mulder laughed. I just made you shiver with desire by only using my tongue on you and you call it "nice"? Come on, John; give me an honest answer here. Do you want me to do that again?"

"God, yes," John hoped he didn't sound too eager, but he did want Mulder to do that again.

Mulder smiled. "I thought as much." He lowered his head and began to rim John with great enthusiasm. John's growing arousal was acting like an aphrodisiac upon his own desire. He was hard and very ready to take John. But, with John being new to this, he knew he had to take things slow and make sure he was definitely ready to be taken. Besides, he still had a few other things he wanted to do for and to John before taking him.

The last of the champagne from the glass was poured over John's groin, and Mulder lapped it up with great enthusiasm, eager to finally take John in his mouth and ready to savor the feeling of John's rigid hardness.

John gasped as Mulder's mouth closed over his erection. He had told Mulder that he didn't think he could handle oral sex -- Mulder was either ignoring that or had forgotten. John thought the latter because Mulder, despite the thing with the movie and room service, didn't seem like the kind of person who would ignore another's wishes. John reached out with his hands to push Mulder away, but, as his hands touched Mulder's head, he found himself holding Mulder in place. The things that Mulder was doing to him with his tongue felt too good for John to want to make Mulder stop. John reached the point of enjoying it so much that he cried out a strangled "no" when Mulder lifted his head away.

Mulder grinned, then gave John's member one more lick. John was so hot and very easy to read with his body language. Mulder had sensed that John had been close to coming, but he wasn't ready for John to come just yet. For one thing, Mulder had left the condoms inside, and he wasn't going to leave John right now just to go back to get them. But, he could switch to something else, Mulder thought with another grin.

"Does this feel all right?" Mulder slipped a finger into John, liking the way he gasped at the intrusion. He definitely liked it, Mulder could tell that just by the way he was writhing on his finger.

"Don't stop," John urged.

"No danger of that. At least not yet. When I do stop, it will be because it's time for something else to find its way inside you. God, you are so tight and hot." Mulder slipped another finger inside him, then began to slowly thrust them in and out, setting up a rhythm that he knew would drive John wild.

John knew he was going crazy from the way he wanted more of what Mulder was doing to him. He was moving his hips towards Mulder's fingers, wanting them in even further. Hell, what he really wanted was to have Mulder's penis inside of him. He frantically impaled himself on Mulder, reveling in the wondrous sensation of having those fingers stimulate him from the inside. He refused to think of it in medical terms though, even though he knew the hows and whys of his arousal. He wanted this rapturous state to be entirely due to the man with him and not to physiology.

Mulder was pleased that John was taking such delight in his fingers, but he thought it was time to try something else. He slowly withdrew his fingers, then got to his feet. "Stay here until I call you inside."

John was still caught up in the sensations that had ripped through his body and he barely heard what Mulder said. The main thing he was aware of was that those wonderful feelings had stopped and he didn't like that. Didn't like it one bit. And why had Mulder stopped so suddenly? He wasn't still thinking about playing games, was he? Forgetting that he had been told to stay on the balcony, John carefully got off of the table and headed for the door, which Mulder had closed as he went back into the room. Dammitt, it was locked! That bastard had locked him outside.

John pounded on the glass, unable to see into the room because Mulder had also closed the damn drapes. "Mulder, let me in. Do you hear me, Fox Mulder? Let me in."

Suddenly the drapes were opened and John could see the room was now ablaze with candlelight. Where in the Hell had Mulder found candles? Then John remembered that when he had been here with Harper there had been aromatherapy candles in the bathroom. They had used them while in the tub, but John liked the way Mulder had placed them around the room.

"Are you going to open the door now?" John asked through the glass.

Mulder smiled at him and shook his head. Then he walked over to the table and made a selection from the oysters, keeping his back to John as he let one slide down his throat. Not bad, he thought. Having grown up on the ocean and then living in Alexandria, Mulder had a great love of seafood, especially shellfish. He loosened another oyster from its shell, then liberally doused it with Tabasco sauce. He carried it to the door, "Want one?"

"I want in. Now, Mulder."

"All you have to do is ask. Nicely."

"Damn you, Mulder. Let me inside."

"That didn't sound very nice, John. Try again."

John clenched his jaw, not seeing any other way of getting off the balcony. "Fine. Mulder, please let me inside the room."

Mulder unlocked the door and pulled it open. "See how easy that was. Here. Open your mouth."

"I can feed myself," John reached for the half-shell, but Mulder kept it out of reach. They moved about the room until Mulder had John backed up against the dresser.

"Open your mouth, John."

"I hope you know that this is ruining my mood," John said. Then he opened his mouth.

Mulder laughed as he tipped the shell and let the oyster slide into John's mouth. "If your cock is any indication of your mood, then I should ruin it some more."

John swallowed the oyster and was about to tell Mulder to quit looking at him when the heat from the Tabasco sauce reached his taste buds. "Jesus, Mulder! What are you trying to do to me?"

"Here," Mulder handed him a glass of champagne and John gulped it down, intent of bringing relief to his burning mouth. He wasn't quite prepared for how fast Mulder moved as the man dropped to his knees, rolled a condom onto John's erection and then took him into his mouth once again.

John felt his knees go weak with the aggressiveness of Mulder's mouth. Bracing himself on the dresser with one hand and reaching out to touch Mulder's shoulder with the other, John closed his eyes and surrendered to the onslaught. John knew right then that he would never get enough of Fox Mulder.

Mulder was having a great time as he toyed with John by bringing him to the brink of release and then easing off. But all too soon Mulder knew that he wanted John to come, wanted to hear him cry out in pleasure. A pleasure that only he could give John.

"God, Mulder. Don't stop, please don't stop," John panted. He could feel another rush of feeling as his orgasm approached. "Don't stop this time, please don't stop." John begged, holding onto Mulder's shoulders now with both hands, not wanting to take the risk that Mulder would get up and walk away again.

Mulder heeded John's pleas, flicking his tongue over the sensitive head a few times before taking John deeply and sucking for all he was worth. Mulder could feel John's fingers digging into his skin as his orgasm overtook him. Holding John's hips tightly, Mulder kept him pressed back against the dresser until John was spent.

As Mulder stood and pressed his body against his, John laughed. "That was so great. Thank you."

"I'm glad you liked it." Mulder said as he began to lick his way up John's neck, over his jaw line and to his mouth. He was pleasantly surprised when John responded eagerly, a lot more passionately than he had before. They were both smiling when the kiss ended.

"I like your way of saying thank you," Mulder said.

"Good." John found himself wanting to ask if Mulder wanted him to reciprocate. He wanted to do that for Mulder, but wasn't sure how to ask.

Mulder noticed that John was a little apprehensive. "Hey," he put a finger under John's chin and tilted it up so they could be eye to eye. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." When Mulder didn't appear to believe that, John nodded. "Really. Nothing's wrong. I...I was just wondering if you wanted me to do that for you."

"Kiss me again?" Mulder's brow was furrowed in confusion.

"Not that. The other. What you just did." John mumbled the last part, but he didn't look away from Mulder this time.

"I would like that very much, but you said that you didn't think you could handle doing that."

"I'd like to try to please you," John replied.

Mulder thought about it for a brief second. Even though John had seemed serious earlier when he had said he didn't think he could handle oral sex, Mulder wanted nothing more right now than to feel John's warm mouth wrapped around his cock.

"Okay, we'll give it a try." Wrapping his arms around John's body, Mulder turned them around so that he was now braced against the dresser. Without breaking their gaze, John slowly dropped to his knees, trailing his hands down Mulder's body even as his heart pounded loudly in his ears as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

To be continued...

John took a deep breath and finally looked at what was in front of him. Mulder wasn't small in any way, but John knew he could handle taking Mulder into his mouth. After all, he had never had any trouble taking...stop it, he firmly told himself. He was not going to let old memories keep him from enjoying this with Mulder. Parting his mouth slightly, John began to lean forward. As he reached out with his hand to touch Mulder's thigh, he saw that it was shaking. Dammitt, John thought. I can do this. I "want" to do this.

Mulder could feel that John was shaking and it was apparent that he didn't really want to perform oral sex on him. Mulder's brain and cock struggled with each other, and then his brain won and he reached down to pull John to his feet.

"It's okay. We don't have to do that right now. I'd much rather do something else." Mulder tenderly rubbed John's shoulders.

"Honest?"

Mulder nodded, thinking about how this was probably for the best anyway. If John would have gone down on him, then he might not have lasted long enough to be able to take John later. And he wanted that even more.

"You know, I think we need to take care of some of that food before it goes bad." Mulder hoped that thinking about something dumb like that would take John's mind off of what had just happened -- or not happened as the case was.

"Dibs on the M&M's," John grinned back at him.

"I'll race you for them, and," Mulder's eyes twinkled with amusement. "I call dibs on the bananas!"

"Shit." John held Mulder back, then rushed for the table. He had no idea what Mulder thought he was going to do with the bananas, but he most certainly knew that he didn't want to find out if Mulder planned to something besides eating them.

"Oh, no, you don't." Mulder laughed as he dashed to the side, then scrambled over to the bed, certain that he could beat John there. He never saw the champagne bottle on the floor, but his foot certainly didn't miss it. The next thing Mulder knew, his arms were flailing as he lost his footing, and he found himself falling backward, yelling in surprise as landed half on and half off the bed.

"You okay?"

Mulder looked up into John's concerned face, then slowly nodded. "Nothing inured but my pride."

John laughed. "Are you always this smooth, Mulder?"

"I know you don't believe me, but this is not how things usually happen for me." He stuck out his hand. "Help me up."

John grabbed Mulder's hand, but before he could pull Mulder to his feet, he found himself being pulled down onto Mulder's body, landing heavily atop the man and momentarily knocking the breath out of him.

John immediately rolled off Mulder, his face showing his concern. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry. That was an accident. Are you okay? Can you breathe all right?"

Mulder nodded since he didn't have the breath in his lungs to answer John right now. After another few moments, he managed a shaky breath. "You know, when I woke up this morning, I never envisioned that this is how my day would end. Or my life. I've always sort of figured that aliens, or a consortium out for revenge would do me in because I foiled their attempts to take over the earth. How could I have known that all it would take to do me in was a brown-eyed handsome man?" Mulder asked with a grin.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you to pull me down or else I would have made sure I didn't land so heavily on you. I thought you wanted to eat."

Mulder nodded a small grin on his face. "I did say that, didn't I? My own fault. Now, roll back this way."

Mulder opened his arms and waited for John to roll back onto his body. It took a few adjustments, but within seconds, the two were perfectly positioned together. The heat from John's skin rekindled Mulder's desire, and he looked up into John's eyes. "I almost forgot that we were in the middle of doing something important," Mulder huskily said. His gaze was dark with desire and John could now feel Mulder's cock pressing against his belly. A reminder of what they had not yet done.

"I was wondering when you'd remember," John softly replied. Their faces came closer and they kissed. John could feel Mulder's hands on his butt, slowly and sensually kneading the muscle. Then one hand dipped lower and John spread his legs, giving Mulder room to do whatever it was he wanted.

"Do you have any requests?" Mulder broke off the kiss to ask.

"Um, do I have to narrow it down to just one?"

Mulder laughed. "No. You can request anything you like. I might not get around to doing all of them, but you can certainly request them."

"Well, that thing you did with your tongue. It was nice. And when you had your fingers...down there...in me...I enjoyed that." John hoped he wasn't blushing. He had been fairly proud of the fact that he had gotten through most of the evening without feeling embarrassed and he didn't want to blow it now.

Mulder rolled over, taking John with him, and then he got off the bed.

"On your stomach, okay?" he said as he looked for more condoms and the lubricant.

John rolled over, remembering to keep his legs apart, hoping that he at least looked as if he knew what he was doing. "Oh, my, God. Mulder..." John gasped as he felt Mulder's tongue on his skin again. John knew he could get very used to this. In a quick repeat of the events of the evening, slick fingers, cold with the lubricant, followed Mulder's tongue as they prepared John for being entered.

Mulder took note of John's body language, and when he was sure that John was relaxed enough to be entered easily, he rolled a condom over his erection, then positioned himself near John's opening, sliding the head of his penis into John as he withdrew his fingers, making a smooth transition. He heard John gasp as his body registered the fact that something larger than two fingers was now imbedded in him. Mulder slowly pushed in, knowing he couldn't rush this. Not this time. If things worked out, well, maybe tomorrow night he could rush things. Mulder grinned at that thought, hoping that John wanted a tomorrow night as much as he did then returned his attention to what he was doing.

John's entire body shuddered as Mulder came to rest fully inside of him. This was incredible and John didn't think it could feel any better. He was wrong, he realized, as Mulder began to pull out and thrust back into him. Oh, sweet Jesus, this was truly better. His body took on a life of its own, as it seemed to instinctively know what to do. His hips bucked back toward Mulder, meeting his thrusts, trying to find some way to get even more of Mulder inside. Wanting Mulder to thrust harder and faster. He heard himself asking for that and felt Mulder oblige him. Felt Mulder's hand on his penis, which was once more hard and stroking him steadily.

He cried out as he came, not caring that his semen was being trapped between his body and the bed. His orgasm rocked his body and yet Mulder never stopped his thrusting during that time. He did increase his rhythm, going in and out, faster and faster until he cried out and slammed in one last time, his own semen spilling out into the condom. Mulder wanted to stay there, buried deep inside of John, but he didn't want to take the risk of anything leaking out of the condom, so he slowly pulled out of John and went to the bathroom to clean up.

When he returned to the bed, John had moved to the other side, a grin on his face. "It's a little messy over there."

Mulder laughed, then crawled into bed, spooning his body around John's and holding him close. "If a messy sheet means that you end up sleeping with me like this, then I'm all for messy sheets."

"Does that mean you want me to stay with you all night?"

"It does. I think the question is whether or not you can."

"I can," John quickly replied. He snuggled back against Mulder, feeling very warm and secure in his embrace. A post-climatic lassitude engulfed him and he yawned. "That was wonderful, Mulder."

Mulder kissed the back of John's neck, grinning. "I'm glad you liked it. Maybe we can try it again in the morning before you have to leave."

"I'd like that." John yawned again.

"Get to sleep." Mulder commanded.

John nodded, then closed his eyes. Within minutes he was asleep.

Mulder lay in the darkness, not feeling a need for a full eight hours of sleep. He could fully function on less and often did. Sometimes, there were things more important than sleeping. Solving a case was one. Laying awake in the darkness, holding John and listening to him breathe was another. Mulder buried his face in John's hair, taking in the unique scent he found there. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. John had said he was a doctor, so maybe it was just a doctor's office smell. Or a hospital. Yeah, that might be it. A hospital smell. Mulder hated hospitals because he hated being sick or hurt. But, he didn't hate the way John smelled. He took another deep breath, then closed his eyes, just intending to savor the moment. But, sleep took him anyway.

*****************************************

Mulder was enjoying himself immensely as he watched John Carter dress. It was surprising how such a simple act could be so pleasant and incredibly erotic at the same time. And it was mildly surprising that he found himself wanting to cross the room and undo all the dressing that John was doing -- pull him back into bed and love him all over again. But, each of them had to get to work, and Mulder had to drive John back to the bar so he could get his Jeep. They had both been dazed by lust last night and neither one of them had given any thought as to how John would leave Mulder's room come morning. So, they were out of bed extra early and in the shower. Which had, of course, ended up with another bout of sex. John had an endless supply of energy as far as sex was concerned, not that Mulder was complaining any. Mulder's smile grew larger as he remembered how John had taken over in the shower, asserting himself as if he had been having this kind of sex for years. He hadn't though, and Mulder was still feeling both awkward and proud of that. He had been John's first, the one that John would always remember, just as Mulder fondly remembered the man who had been his first lover.

"I'm ready to leave when you are," John said as he finished tying his shoes.

"We had better go now then. If it looks like this case will keep me here overnight, do you want to get together again?" Mulder hoped he didn't sound as anxious as he felt as he asked that of John. He was also thinking that if the case didn't keep him in Chicago an extra night, then he would find some other excuse to remain. Anything in order to see John once more.

John nodded. "I'd like that." He pulled out his wallet and retrieved a business card, then wrote the phone number from work on the back before giving the card to Mulder. "Call me as soon as you know what you'll be doing."

"I will." Mulder tucked the card into his shirt pocket, then grabbed his car keys from the dresser. "Ready?"

"Almost." John walked over to Mulder and wrapped his arms around him, then gave him a long and languorous kiss. "Just in case this is goodbye," he shyly said.

Mulder kissed him back. "Let's keep our fingers crossed that this isn't goodbye." They pulled away from each other and headed out the door.


It didn't take long to reach the bar and after John pointed out his Jeep, Mulder parked behind it. "I really liked last night. And this morning. And the shower."

John laughed, "I liked it all, too."

"So, was I right?" Mulder asked with a grin.

"About what?"

"Was I so good that from now on whenever you have sex with another guy, you'll think of me?"

John chewed on his lower lip as he thought about his answer. He hadn't really thought about being with other guys. And he hadn't thought about only ever being with Mulder either. But, he did know that he would never forget Fox Mulder. He nodded. "You were pretty good."

"Pretty good? Enough to keep me in your mind forever?"

"I think I need to get going. I should go home and change clothes before heading for work." John opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He braced one hand against the roof of the car, then leaned down to look in at Mulder, grinning from ear to ear. "Yeah. You were." Then he stepped back and shut the door. He quickly headed for his Jeep, not trusting himself to look back at Mulder. He knew the man would be smiling and he also knew that his own face was red. But, the sex had been great, and he was in such a good mood over it that he didn't mind the parking ticket that he found under his windshield wiper. He really should have remembered to put more quarters in the parking meter before he left with Mulder, but he hadn't. Oh, well. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford the ticket. And last night was worth it.

Mulder waited until John had driven away before he headed back to the Lakeshore Inn. He had never felt this way the morning after a pick up. But, John Carter obviously wasn't just a one-night stand. Mulder wanted to see him again. Even after this case was over. There certainly would be other opportunities to travel to Chicago -- either on business or vacation. He was due some time off, Skinner kept reminding him about that every other week. Mulder wondered if John had any vacation time? Perhaps they could meet somewhere? Maybe the Caribbean? He could feel himself harden as he thought about having sex with John Carter in the crystal clear waters of the islands. Hell, he was hard merely thinking about John Carter. He parked the car, then headed into the building, passing a few other guests who were early risers. Mulder had just reached his door when Scully exited her room.

"Good morning," he cheerfully greeted her.

"Good morning. Are you coming or going?" she asked.

He grinned wickedly. "Does it really matter? Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Sure. Feel up to checking out the restaurant here?"

"Of course. Lead the way, Scully." He bowed to her and she laughed as she walked past him toward the elevators.

Once inside the restaurant, they were immediately seated. The breakfast menu was large and it took a few minutes for Mulder to decide what he wanted to eat. But, that also had something to do with the fact that he couldn't get John out of his mind. Finally, he opted for juice, eggs, bacon and pancakes. And strong coffee. Scully wimped out with a fruit plate, juice and coffee.

As the waitress left to get their coffee, Scully pulled out the notes from the Thielen case and began to discuss it with him. At least she tried to. She could tell something...or someone distracted him. So, she kept her thoughts to herself and merely gave him the facts, pausing only long enough to eat.

Breakfast was half over and Mulder was still unable to push John to the back of his mind and give Scully his full attention. She was telling him the suspects that had been in Morgan's notes, but he was finding it difficult to care. And then one name caught his attention.

"Wait a minute, did you say Branch Carter?" That could be a wild coincidence, he thought. Then he mentally kicked himself. Right. How many men were running around Chicago with the name of Branch Carter?

"Branch Carter was one of the suspects. He's a brother of Emily Carter Thielen, the victim's wife. Another suspect, also a family member, was Roland Carter. Both men were suspected because Thielen had sexually molested their sons, although they didn't know it until recently. Or so they claimed."

"And the sons?" Mulder asked, a growing dread enveloping him.

"They weren't considered suspects. Branch's son, Chase Carter, suffered brain damage as a result of a heroin overdose and is in a nursing home. Roland's living son, John Carter, is a doctor working in the emergency room of County General. He was working at the time Thielen was shot. The irony here is that Thielen was taken to that hospital and Doctor Carter was one of the physicians working on him."

"But, he wasn't a suspect?" Please God don't let John be a suspect, Mulder silently begged.

Scully shook her head. "No. At the time when Thielen was shot, he was on his way to work with Kerry Weaver, his landlady. She's also a doctor at the hospital and one of his supervisors. Mulder, are you all right? You don't look so well," she gently commented.

Mulder shook his head. "No, I don't feel so well right now. Damn." This was certainly going to complicate matters in a big way. Last night had been wonderful, despite John's hesitance at the idea of oral sex, and this morning had been even better, with John awaking him with his kisses. And now Mulder was beginning to fear that the last man John had engaged with oral sex with had been Joseph Thielen. It was one thing for him to know from John's own admission that he had involved in a non-consensual sexual relationship and quite another thing to now know that John had been abused as a child. Joseph Thielen had morphed from being a possible murder victim to a God forsaken bastard.

"Mulder? What is it? What's wrong?"

He looked up at her, touched by the concern so evident in her eyes. He loved her so much, but only as a good friend. Hell, he needed a good friend right now, no doubt about it. He looked around, making sure that no one else was near their booth. "I was with John Carter last night."

Scully blinked slowly. "You were with John Carter last night," she repeated. Then she leaned back in her seat. "Well, that certainly answers a lot of my questions. Oh, Mulder." She looked at him, sadness in her eyes.

"What am I going to say to him, Scully? I had no idea that he was involved in this case. He's going to have a fit when we show up to interview him."

"Do you have his phone number? You could call him and explain things to him."

Mulder shook his head. "I do have it. I told him I would call him if it looked as if I would be staying in Chicago for a few days. But, he had to be to work by seven this morning."

"We know where he works, Mulder," she gently said, a smile playing at her lips as she watched his obvious discomfiture at finding out his most recent lover was involved with a case he was investigating. It was interesting to see Mulder on the hot seat.

"Right. He gave me his card."

"Then call him. Unless of course, you don't ever want to see him again."

Mulder ignored her last sentence as he fished around in his pocket for change. "I'll call now."

"Mulder, take a moment and get yourself together. I don't think you should call him from a phone booth in a diner, do you?"

He looked at her, then realized that he was acting like a lovesick puppy. Despite his fantasies, John was just supposed to have been a one night or one trip stand, no more. So, why did he care what John Carter thought? He wished he had an answer to that question. But, he knew she was right. He couldn't have that conversation here in the diner. He would have to go back to his room and call from there.

"I'll handle the check," Scully offered. "Go and call him."

"Thanks." He dashed out of the diner and to his room. He couldn't get the door opened fast enough and once inside, he sat down on the bed so hard that he bounced. That brought back memories from just a few hours ago. Once John was sure he was awake, he had been quite insistent that they have sex again. A good night's sleep gave both of them a lot of energy and they ended up in some positions that Mulder didn't think he had ever tried before. And then there had been their shower. He smiled as he remembered that bout of sex, but his smile faded as he dialed the number John had given him, then prayed that John wasn't in the middle of an exam.

"County General Emergency Room, how may I help you?" a deep male voice answered.

"May I speak with Doctor John Carter?"

"One moment." Mulder expected to be put on hold, but instead he could hear the man yelling for John. He could hear several conversations going on in the background and then John was on the line.

"John Carter. How can I help you?"

Mulder grinned as he heard that voice. "You can tell me that last night was as much fun for you as it was for me."

"Mulder? Are you calling because you have an answer already? Will you be staying?"

"I'll be staying at least one more night, John. Maybe more. But, that's not why I'm calling." Mulder suddenly went serious. "Last night, I told you that my partner and I were sent here to investigate an unusual case."

"I remember."

"Well, while I went out, my partner was reading over notes from the case we were sent to investigate. John, there's no easy way to say this. We were sent to investigate the death of Joseph Thielen. I swear that last night I had no idea that the man was your uncle. I didn't find that out until this morning."

"Why are you doing this? The police closed the case and ruled it a suicide. It's over."

"It's not over, John. I think it's pretty obvious that someone murdered your uncle.""

"Please let it go."

Mulder felt his insides tighten as he heard the desperate plea in John's voice.

"I can't do that, John. My partner and I have to write our own report. We'll be interviewing people and...hello? John? Hello?" Feeling like pond scum, Mulder hung up as he realized that John had hung up on him.

"Shit," he muttered, resting his head in his hands as he pondered what to do next.

To be continued...

"Carter? Do you have a minute?" Kerry asked as she laid a file onto the counter. John didn't notice how nervous she was as she asked.

"Sure," he absently replied. He couldn't believe that the FBI was now involved in investigating his uncle's death. He couldn't believe that the guy he had spent the night with was doing the investigation. Boy, was his therapist going to get an earful at their next session. He followed Kerry into the lounge.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"No thanks. What's up?"

"I missed seeing you at home this morning, and so far I haven't had much of a chance to talk to you. Clark told me something disturbing last night."

"The FBI is investigating Joe Thielen's death."

She raised her eyebrows. "Exactly. They showed up at Clark's precinct yesterday around lunchtime. He stalled them as much as he could, telling them as little as possible. He doesn't think they'll find much in the file he loaned them."

"Why can't they leave things alone?" he asked, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't want to end up in the same state he was in at the time they discovered that Bobby had been the murderer.

"I don't know. Clark thinks that someone in the precinct called the FBI He doesn't know who or why, but that's what he thinks. Luckily, he had all his notes destroyed, so they aren't in the file. There's nothing in there to link you to your uncle."

"You're wrong about that, Kerry. I just got off of the phone with one of the investigating agents. They know I'm related to
him."

"I don't see how. I'll double check with Clark about it, but he seemed so sure that he had eliminated all references to you and your family."

"He must have missed something."

"I'll talk to him."

The door opened and Jerry poked his head in, "MVA in five."

"Thanks, Jer," Kerry replied. She rinsed out her coffee cup, then gave John a reassuring hug. "It will be okay, John. They'll talk to some people, then realize that there's nothing to investigate. In a few days, they'll be gone."

"I hope you're right," he answered, wanting nothing more than for the FBI to be out of this. But, deep inside, he also didn't like the idea of Fox Mulder being gone in a few days time. Despite finding out that Mulder was investigating his uncle's death, he found himself still wanting the man. Shit, he thought, maybe he could get in to see Nina today. He made a mental note to call her once the trauma was over. She was certainly going to get an earful that was for sure.

*************************************

When Scully knocked on the door of Mulder's room and didn't get an answer, she tried the doorknob, hoping it was unlocked. It was. When she got into the room, she was surprised to see Mulder sitting on the bed, looking as if he had been kicked in the stomach. She was afraid that he might get physically ill, he was that pale and shaken.

She sat down beside him. "I take it that he didn't take the news too well?"

Mulder raised his head and looked over at her. "He hung up on me. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Just what we had planned to do, Mulder. We're going to the hospital to talk to the people who attempted to treat Joseph Thielen, then we'll have a nice long talk with his nephew. Come on."

**********************************

The multi-vehicle accident kept John from worrying too much about Mulder and the fact that the F.B.I. was investigating his uncle's murder. But, when he came back downstairs after escorting the last patient up to surgery, he heard from Jerry that two F.B.I. agents were in the lounge talking to Mark.

"I think they're here because of your uncle," Jerry informed him. "They said they wanted to speak to Malik, Chuny, Doctor Weaver and you. I thought the police said your uncle killed himself?"

"They did. I don't know why the F.B.I. is interested in this." John grabbed the first chart he could reach, not caring what the patients' ailment might be. He needed to work. "I'll be with a patient. They can find me when they're ready to talk to me."

"Right." Jerry's expression was solemn as he watched John walk away. It just wasn't right that the Feds were here to dredge this mess up again. Everyone who worked in the ER knew that Carter had been victimized by his uncle, although no one spoke about it. The bastard was dead and the case closed. Why couldn't it stay that way?


Mulder leaned back in his chair, already weary of the questioning. So far, they had not learned anything that had not been in Clark Morgan's original notes. Mulder doubted if that would change with the next two to be questioned. As agreed back at the hotel, John would be questioned last, so Mulder was waiting for Scully to return with Kerry Weaver. The door opened and Scully returned, accompanied by a cute, petite redhead. The fact that the woman needed a crutch didn't distract from her beauty and Mulder felt a pang of jealousy as he considered her relationship with John. He knew that she was his boss and landlady. Was she more than that to him? Or was it possible that she wanted to be more than that?

He introduced himself as the women sat down. Kerry regarded him coolly, not liking the idea of being questioned yet again about that morning and everything that happened afterward. But, above her dislike of that there was her protectiveness of John. He was trying his best to shake years of guilt and shame and making good progress from what she could tell. Having to answer the questions of these two agents might bring all of that up again, and Kerry didn't want that to happen.

"Doctor Weaver, thank you for taking the time to speak with us," Mulder said, flashing his most charming smile.

"I wasn't aware I had a choice in the matter, Agent Mulder." Her gaze angry, Kerry sat stiffly, placing her hands on the table in front of her. She had nothing to hide, so she felt no inclination to be polite to these two.

"Well, we appreciate it anyway.

Mulder and Scully asked Kerry general questions about that morning. They were the same questions that had been asked of Mark, Malik and Chuny. Then the questions began to get a little more personal.

"Did Doctor Carter seem very upset after he found out that the dead man was Joseph Thielen?" Scully asked.

"He was upset. I don't know if I would use the word "very", though. Anyone would be upset to find out that they had worked on a relative and not realized it. That would be difficult enough, but when you add in the fact that the man was dead, then it's even worse. How would you feel if you arrived at the scene of a murder to view a mutilated victim and then discovered that it was a loved one?" Kerry replied.

"But, the fact is that Joseph Thielen was not a loved one." Mulder softly said.

Kerry glared at him. "Is there really a point to all of this? Joseph Thielen left a suicide note and the police and coroner ruled the death to be a suicide."

"Was Joseph Thielen wearing gloves?" Mulder asked.

"Of course not. We were in the middle of a heat wave, Agent Mulder. No one in their right mind would have been wearing gloves that morning."

"Then how do you explain the fact that there no fingerprints on the gun?" Mulder asked, looking her directly in the eyes.

"It's not my job to explain that," she evenly replied, steadily meeting his gaze.

Scully cleared her throat, "When did you become aware that Doctor Carter had been a victim of Joseph Thielen?"

"Are you investigating a suicide or a child molestation case?"

"We're investigating all possible leads, Doctor Weaver. While Doctor Carter has an alibi for that morning, there are members of his family who do not, and they are suspects," Scully replied.

"It was a few days later. Detective Morgan asked me if I thought that John had been molested. At first, I didn't agree with Detective Morgan's theory that John had been a victim, but when I asked John, he wouldn't answer me, and I realized that he had."

"Doctor Carter wasn't very cooperative with the police, was he?" Mulder asked.

"Define what you mean by cooperative," Kerry said.

"He didn't volunteer this information to Detective Morgan. According to the case notes, Doctor Carter wanted the case closed as quickly as possible so that his uncle could be buried."

"That was true. The entire situation was difficult on his aunt as well as the rest of the family. John felt it would be easier for her if she could bury her husband. I don't think I would refer to that as being uncooperative."

Mulder nodded. "Do you think that Joseph Thielen killed himself?"

"I think that a being from beyond the grave came back to get revenge on Mr. Thielen."

"I was asking you a serious question, Doctor Weaver," Mulder frowned.

Kerry refrained from telling him that she was serious. "I think that he was responsible for his own death, Agent Mulder." That was close enough to the truth for her. If he had not done the things he had done, then he would not have been killed that day. "Are we finished here? I really do have patients to see." Kerry said.

"I don't have any further questions at this time," Mulder replied. "Scully?"

Scully shook her head. "I'm done. Doctor Weaver, thank you for answering our questions. Would you do us the favor of asking Doctor Carter to come in here?"

"I'll see if I can find him." Kerry left the lounge.

"I think that went well," Mulder commented.

"As compared to pulling teeth?" Scully smiled. "Yes, it went well. We knew she would be protective of John Carter. Mulder, are you ready for this?" She knew he was still upset.

"I can do my job, Scully. That's all that's important, right?"

Scully shook her head. "No, it's not all that's important, Mulder. I care about you, and it hurts me to see you so upset. He really got to you, didn't he?"

Mulder shrugged. "I guess. While a part of me is glad we got this case because it resulted in meeting him, another part of me is regretting being assigned to this case. I don't want to hurt him, Scully. I know that you've wanted a nice, normal case for a long time now, but I would be more than willing to trade this one for a case involving the supernatural or aliens."

"Well, if you want to believe Doctor Weaver, then a ghost is responsible for killing Joseph Thielen," Scully pointed out.

"She was just yanking my chain, Scully."

"I know, but I'm surprised you didn't jump on the possibility."

"I don't believe in ghosts and you know it."

"So, you would have jumped if she had said he was killed by an alien?"

He grinned and nodded. "Now that is something I could believe."

The door opened and he tensed, not sure how John would react when they saw each other. It was a strange mixture of relief and disappointment when he saw that the person entering the lounge was the desk clerk and not John.

"Doctor Carter is finishing up with a patient right now and he'll be in as soon as he's through."

"Thanks, Jerry." Mulder replied.

"You're welcome." Jerry turned to leave.

"Jerry, may I ask you a question?" Scully asked.

Jerry turned back to look at Scully. "Sure, okay."

"Is Doctor Weaver very close to Doctor Carter?"

"He rents a room from her."

Scully smiled. "I was thinking more along the lines of personal feelings."

Jerry's face flushed as he realized just what the F.B.I. agent was asking. "No. There's nothing like that between them. Doctor Weaver is dating the cop who handled the case. She's not interested in Carter at all."

"Thank you, Jerry."

Jerry hurried out before she could think of any other questions to ask him. Where would she have gotten the idea that Kerry Weaver was romantically interested or involved with Carter? The very idea was laughable.

Mulder and Scully exchanged surprised looks as Jerry left.

"So, Clark Morgan, who wanted his case notes destroyed, is involved with Kerry Weaver, who just happens to live in the same house as John Carter. This case just got more interesting, Scully."

"I can't argue with that. The question is, when did she get involved with Morgan? Before or after the case was closed? I think we'll have to talk with the good Doctor Weaver at least one more time."

"Are you sure that's a safe thing to do?" Mulder asked. "I think she might be tempted to take a scalpel to us."

"She wouldn't use a scalpel, she's a trauma physician, not a surgeon. She would probably just use a rib spreader."

"Why don't I feel comforted by that?"

Scully grinned at him. "Look at it this way, with a rib spreader you..."

She trailed off as the door opened and a handsome man entered the lounge. By the way Mulder paled, she knew that this was John Carter. And he obviously was not happy to see Mulder here.

"I don't have much time to spend in here answering questions that I've already answered." John informed them. "So, make it quick."

"We'll do our best, Doctor Carter, but how fast this goes will be dependent on how cooperative you are with your answers," Scully said. "Please have a seat. I'm Agent Dana Scully. I believe you already know my partner, Agent Mulder."

John sat down, not even bothering to look at Mulder. "We've met," he tersely said.

To be continued...

Scully inwardly winced as she took a quick glance at Mulder. He wasn't betraying any emotion, but she knew that John's dismissal of the night they had spent together had hurt Mulder. So, maybe it was a good time to play "good cop, bad cop", with Mulder getting the chance to be the good guy. Perhaps that would put him back in John Carter's good graces and take that miserable look out of his eyes.

"We'll skip all the questions regarding the morning your uncle died. We've already spoken to four people about that day and I doubt if you could add anything to what they've already told us," Scully began, hoping she sounded harsh. The startled look she caught from Mulder let her know that she was. She continued. "So, we'll cut right to the chase. Did you take Dennis Gant's gun from the box that his father had packed it in after Dennis Gant died?"

"No."

"Did you have anything to do with the death of Joseph Thielen?"

"No."

"Did your family put pressure upon the Chicago Police Department to declare Joseph Thielen's death a suicide?"

"Not to my knowledge. Is that all you have to ask me?"

"I've only just begun, Doctor Carter. You might as well relax. We might be here a while."

"Scully, is all of this really necessary?" Mulder asked.

"That's what I want to know. Why is the FBI interested in a closed case? Uncle Joe's death was ruled a suicide. Where is the big mystery or conspiracy in that?" John asked, unable to hide his own confusion.

"The conspiracy is that a person can't blow their brains out and then wipe the gun of prints. A gun that belonged to a man dead for years. Can you explain any of that, Doctor Carter?" Scully harshly said.

"Sure. You won't believe me, but I can tell you the truth about what happened to Joseph Thielen."

"Go ahead." Scully leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest as she waited to see what story he would come up with.

"Look, it might not be a good idea for you to say anything until you've had a chance to speak with an attorney. There's no reason for you to incriminate yourself, John," Mulder leaned forward, willing John to look at him. When he did, Mulder found himself wishing he hadn't. John's stare was cold and hard.

"I won't incriminate myself because I didn't do anything wrong. The people who killed Joseph Thielen are beyond your reach."

"So you admit that he was murdered?" Scully asked.

"I think that in their minds, it was more a matter of justice. Why not call it an execution?"

"A man was murdered, Doctor Carter, by whatever words you chose to use to describe it. Please continue," Scully said."

"I'm sure that you've seen in the file that he was suspected of sexually abusing a child. It was true. It was something he had been doing for years to a number of young boys. He did it to me, he did it to my cousin Chase, and he did it to my brother, Bobby. Neither one of us knew that the others were victims. We thought that by giving in to what he wanted, we were keeping the others safe from harm. My brother Bobby was diagnosed with leukemia and it was incurable. He had periods of remission, but they didn't last very long. Bobby and I were close, but I found it difficult to confide in him about what was happening with Uncle Joe. During one remission, I finally broke down and told him. He told me that he would take care of things, make sure that Uncle Joe never hurt me or anyone else again. The next morning, I went to school as usual. It was a rough day. A very rough day. I knew that Dad would listen to Bobby, but I wasn't sure what would happen. I was riding my bike home when I suddenly felt ill -- it was as if someone had punched me in the stomach. I stopped the bike and then saw Bobby standing off on the side of the road. I knew he couldn't really be there and that if I was seeing him, then that meant he was dead. Bobby had promised me that he wouldn't die if I wasn't there with him. I rode home as fast as I could only to find out that Bobby was, indeed, dead. The whole family was there by then, including Uncle Joe. I found out that Uncle Joe had come over to watch Bobby while Mom took my sister to the doctor. A little later, Uncle Joe took me aside and he told me that Bobby had accused him of messing with me. He said he had told me that he would kill anyone I told and that he had not been lying about that. He admitted to me that he had smothered Bobby in order to keep Bobby from telling Dad about what I had said. I had no reason not to believe him. Since the time I was ten years old until a few weeks ago, I believed that I had caused Bobby's death. And I had known that if I ever told anyone else about what Uncle Joe had done to me, he would kill them, too."

John looked down at his hands, surprised that he had been able to talk so much about all of that.

"I know that it had to have difficult for you, John. A child can carry a lot of unnecessary guilt," Mulder gently said.

John looked up at him, expecting to see pity in his eyes. Instead, he saw understanding. Maybe he had been too quick to judge Mulder.

"You said that you had believed that until a few weeks ago. What happened to make you believe differently?" Scully asked, tossing away the "bad cop" image.

"I found out that Bobby had really died from the leukemia. That he had not been as healthy at the time as I thought. When Bobby died, he left behind gifts to be given to different people. Toys. Books. Various mementos. My cousin Casey, who was Uncle Joe's daughter, had given a book to Bobby, and she got that book back. A few months ago, she finally looked at it. And she found what appeared to be a fragment of a letter that Bobby was writing. In it, he detailed the abuse. Most of what he had written was what I had told him, but she assumed that Bobby was referring to himself. She went to my Dad and Dad talked it over with my Uncle Branch. The three of them were enraged and they began to plot Uncle Joe's death."

"I really think a lawyer should be in here, John," Mulder said. He couldn't believe that John was about to confess to them that his family had killed Joseph Thielen. If he was, then Mulder wanted it to be above board and fully prosecutable.

John shook his head. "That's not necessary. They never had the chance to kill him. He was shot before they had things arranged, but they had me thinking that they were guilty. I was pretty scared about that. You see, Uncle Joe wanted me to help the police find his killer so he could get his revenge against the guy."

"Are you implying that Joseph Thielen knew beforehand that he was going to be killed?" Scully asked.

"No, I'm saying that he was hanging around after he was killed."

"I think I've heard enough," Mulder firmly said. "If you didn't want to cooperate with us, then you could have just said so. There's no reason for you to be making up such a ridiculous story."

"It's not a story, Mulder. It's the truth. I thought that the two of you were here to find out the truth about Uncle Joe's death. I can't help it if you won't accept the fact that there are some things in this world that can't be defined in the normal sense. Things that are beyond our comprehension. My brother died in the company of the man who had molested not only him, but also his cousin and me. He was determined to one day stop Uncle Joe and he strove to build up enough strength to do that. Years ago, Dennis Gant was murdered by Uncle Joe and Dennis joined Bobby in the quest for vengeance. Bobby took Dennis' gun and went after Uncle Joe. Clark Morgan didn't think he could get away with stating that a child who had been dead for years had murdered Joseph Thielen, so he convinced his Captain that Uncle Joe had, indeed, killed himself. There was no conspiracy. Just a case of simple justice. I'm sorry if you refuse to see that."

Mulder looked away from John, feeling afraid for him. He wasn't sure if he was afraid because John was so calm about all of this or because he so obviously believed what he was saying. Had he spent last night with someone in dire need of psychiatric care? And if so, then who was he to complain? Hadn't he been told often enough that he was missing more than a few screws?

"Look, if you don't believe me, then just talk to Clark and Kerry. They both saw and heard all of it." John earnestly told them.

"Doctor Weaver did mention something about a ghost being responsible," Scully gently said.

Mulder looked at her sideways then shook his head. "I think that we'll let you get back to work now. We do have other people to interview today."

"Fine. Don't believe me, Mulder. But, it doesn't change the fact that it's the truth." John got to his feet and left. He felt empty inside, and not because he had revealed his deepest secrets to Mulder and Scully. It was because he could tell that Mulder thought he was crazy and he didn't want the man feeling that way about him. Last night had been wonderful and he had been looking forward to spending more time with Mulder. The phone call he had received from him this morning had dashed those hopes and this interview had pretty much sealed things. He would never again be in Mulder's arms. Never feel his kisses upon his skin. Never hear him call out his name as he came. Once again, fate had offered everything to him and then cruelly snatched it away. He should have known that things wouldn't be different just because Joe was dead.


"You were a little abrupt, weren't you?" Scully asked as she watched Mulder eye the closed door.

"I don't believe in ghosts, Scully. You know that."

"You've mentioned that from time to time. When I was first assigned to work with you, I didn't believe in aliens."

Mulder looked at her sharply, her meaning clear to him. She gazed back at him steadily, not giving an inch. Finally he looked down at the table and sighed.

"Mulder, sometimes you have to believe in things you can't see or understand."

"Next thing I know, you'll be telling me to believe in angels," he scoffed.

"Right now I'm telling you to believe in John Carter. You care about him, Mulder."

"I barely know him. We only spent one night together, I hardly think that gives us the right to care about each other. At least in the way you mean. Come on, I think we can find some other people to interview before we let the Chief of Police know that one of the Chicago's finest is faking reports to make his lover happy."

"We don't know that to be true."

"Scully, I think it's pretty obvious. Clark Morgan wanted to keep Kerry Weaver happy and the only way to do that was to submit a report that made her boarder and friend look good and to take the stress off John Carter. A murderer is still out there, Scully. I think he or she needs to be caught, don't you?"

Mulder got up and left the lounge, leaving it up to her to pack up their notes and files. As Scully gathered their things, she couldn't keep from thinking that Mulder was wrong about everything, but most especially about the feelings he had for John Carter.

***************************************************
John hesitated outside of Nine Pomerantz's door. She had told him that he could drop by at any time to talk and earlier he had been intending to do just that. But that had been before Mulder called him and his world fell apart yet one more time. John shook his head as memories from the night before swept over him. He had enjoyed himself immensely with Mulder and had left Mulder that morning feeling as if there just might be a chance for something more. Just what that more might have been, John wasn't sure. But the very idea of a possibility of more had made him happy and it had been such a long time since he had been truly happy. And he could lay all the blame for that at Mulder's feet. John had imagined the look that would be on Nina's face when he told her that he took her advice and went out and picked up a guy. He knew she would be flustered and shocked and had perversely looked forward to letting her know that her advice had been good.

But not now. At that very moment, John felt worse than he had ever felt before. And like his earlier happiness, he could lay this at Mulder's feet. John closed his eyes tightly to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. How could something so good turn into something this bad so quickly? Mulder didn't believe him. Hell, Mulder had looked right through him when he walked into the lounge to answer their questions. What had happened to the warm, funny and tender man from last night and early this morning? Where had he gone? Had it all been nothing more than an act on Mulder's part? A way to make sure that he got what he wanted from him? Had all of Mulder's words been lies? John just didn't know.

With a deep sigh, John turned away from the closed door. He couldn't talk to Nina until he had figured things out. He needed to decide if he had just been used for a night's pleasure or if there was more going on than he knew about. At that moment, John was hoping that he had merely been used. Being used was something he could understand. Getting his heart ripped out of his body because his uncle's death had come between him and Mulder was not something that he wanted to experience. John had endured way too many times of having his heart ripped out. Since he had already signed out for the day, John headed for the El and the relative safety of home.

John stood on the platform, oblivious to those around him. His thoughts were elsewhere and he didn't realize how sad he looked to those who were watching him. One of which was Peter Benton.

"Carter? Are you all right?" Peter asked. He had noticed that Carter had been distracted all day. And ever since his interview with the FBI agents, he had seemed depressed. During the rest of the work day, he had not been able to speak to him, but now that they were on the El platform waiting for the next train to arrive, there seemed to be time to talk.

"Huh? Did you say something?" John's thoughts had been on his miserable life and how much he hated being alone. He hadn't even been aware that Benton had approached him, let alone spoke to him.

"Yeah. I asked if you were all right. You seem depressed."

"You noticed that?"

Peter nodded. "It would be hard to miss, Carter."

"Sorry. But, to answer your question, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me. Not that you ever do...or did." John looked down the track, hoping that his train would come soon.

"I did worry about you. I just never let you or anyone else know it. I've learned a lot since Gant died, Carter. I've learned to let some of my emotions and worries show. I've learned that I'm not alone."

"Then I guess you're one of the lucky ones, aren't you? Excuse me." John walked away to stand at the edge of the platform. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that this is where Joseph Thielen had pushed Dennis Gant to his death. For such a long time John had believed that Dennis had killed himself and he sent a heartfelt apology in his heart to Dennis for thinking that. It was strange how things could turn around so quickly. Back then, he had felt so guilty over thinking that he was responsible for Bobby's death that he wouldn't even consider suicide as an option. He had felt that enduring a living Hell was nowhere near the punishment he deserved for causing his brother's death. And now he knew that he wasn't responsible. Joseph Thielen had lied to him when he told him that he killed Bobby. So, the guilt was lifted from his shoulders. But, despite the progress he thought he had been making with Nina Pomerantz, his living Hell was back. It had descended upon him the minute he heard Fox Mulder tell him that he was investigating Joseph Thielen's death. A tear slipped down his cheek as he thought how he didn't want to go on living this way -- feeling so alone and empty. He had not felt that way last night with Mulder and he was so afraid that there would never be another person who could take away those feelings.

Maybe dying wasn't such a bad idea after all, he thought. It would certainly solve a lot of problems. The FBI could name him as Joseph Thielen's murderer, and while Clark might face some censure over closing the case as a suicide, he wouldn't lose his job. So, things would work out for everyone in the end. Mulder could go back to Washington content in the knowledge that he had solved the case, Kerry could find a better tenant for her basement, and his family wouldn't have to look at him and be reminded of all the bad that had happened. It was a win-win situation. All he needed to do now was figure out just how he would kill himself. He wouldn't do anything at home, that wouldn't be fair to Kerry. And he couldn't risk doing anything at the hospital -- what if he was found before he was dead? The last thing he wanted was to injure himself so badly that he ended up brain damaged. Like Chase. Another person he had inadvertently harmed. Jumping in front of the El wasn't an option either, and for the same reason. He would find a way. Something guaranteed to work.

He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder and he spun around to see Peter Benton looking at him with concern.

"There was a time when you wanted to talk to me about feelings."

"That was a long time ago, Doctor Benton. You made it plain back then that your feelings weren't any of my concern, so I figure that mine don't concern you either."

"I was wrong then."

They regarded each other for a few moments, then John nodded. "I guess you have changed. I never thought I would hear you admit that."

"I know that you've been having a tough time lately, Carter. It would help if you had someone to talk to."

"I see a psychiatrist, so I get plenty of opportunity to talk."

A distant rumbling began to grow louder and then the train was within sight.

"This is my train." John watched the train come to a stop, then got on to go home. He looked out the window as the train began to pull out of the station and saw that Benton was still watching him. Why did he have to pick now to decide to be friendly? John settled into his seat, dismissing Peter Benton and his new found concern from his mind. He had more important things to think about.

To be continued...

Scully frowned as she watched Mulder use his fork to push the food around on his plate. As far as she could tell, he hadn't eaten more than two bites of the steak he had ordered for dinner.

"You might as well give up, Mulder."

He looked up, not quite sure what she meant. "Give up what?"

"On eating. The steak is just getting cold."

He pushed the plate away. "I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought."

"Maybe that would change if you talked with John."

"I can't go to see him, Scully. You saw him at the hospital and heard what he had to say. Aside from his delusion that a "ghost" killed Joseph Thielen, there's the very real fact that he never once acknowledged the fact that we...well, he was cold."

"And there you sat, gushing over him and telling everyone what a wonderful night the two of you had spent together."

"I wasn't there to tell everyone about my love life, Scully," he snapped.

"And neither was he. Did it ever occur to you that he thought you were acting cold toward him? Maybe even condescending or dismissive? Mulder, he truly believed what he was telling us."

"And you're now a mind reader?"

"No. But, I can tell when someone believes what they're saying, and he believes it. If you weren't so closed minded about the paranormal, then maybe you would see that he might be telling the truth."

"Ghosts aren't real. Aliens are real."

She shook her head, wondering why she even bothered with trying to change his mind. For a man who was so quick to jump to outrageous conclusions on bizarre cases, he was now being so maddeningly stubborn on this. But, he had always told her that he didn't believe in ghosts. No, Fox Mulder believed in aliens and government conspiracies. He believed in werewolves and genetic freaks of nature. He believed in vampires and fairy rings. But, he did not believe in ghosts, end of story.

She grabbed the check, then went to pay the cashier. The sooner this case was over and they were back in Washington with everything back to normal, the better. They drove back to the hotel, neither one of them wanting to talk any more.

"I'll see you at breakfast, Scully," Mulder said as he unlocked the door to his room.

She pushed her door open and nodded at him. "Good night, Mulder."

Mulder didn't go into his room until he heard her lock her door, and then he stepped across the threshold, switching on the light as he closed the door. He turned around, then quickly reached for his gun as he saw a young black man sitting on his bed.

"That won't help you," the man said.

"Who are you? What do you want? How did you get in here?"

The man smiled. "So many questions, Agent Mulder. Or can I call you Fox?"

"Mulder is fine."

The man nodded. "You can call me Dennis. I'm here because I want to talk to you, and I just appeared in here. Any other questions?"

Mulder shoved his gun back into the holster. "Not yet. What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Not 'what', who. I want to talk to you about John Carter."

"Talk then." Mulder pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, making sure that he could easily reach his gun if he needed. Dennis would have to get past him in order to leave, and he was determined that Dennis wouldn't leave until he was ready for him to go.

"Bobby wanted to come to talk to you, but he used up so much energy dealing with Joseph Thielen that he couldn't manage it."

"Bobby as in Bobby Carter? John's dead brother and the one he claims killed Thielen?"

"The very one."

Then something else clicked in Mulder's brain. "You're Dennis Gant."

Dennis smiled. "That's correct."

"You're dead."

"Again, you're correct," Dennis; smile grew wider. "I can see why you're a FBI agent. You have the most remarkable powers of deduction that I've ever seen."

"You can stop it with the sarcasm. I don't believe in ghosts, therefore, it's impossible for you to be here. You are obviously a man who has been hired to play the part of Dennis Gant."

"Have I now? If that's true, then who hired me?"

Mulder shrugged. "I don't know. Clark Morgan, perhaps? After all, his career could be ruined if it gets out that he falsified records in order to conceal a murder. It could even be the Carter family. A drawn out murder investigation would have given the family a lot of media exposure and I'm sure they wouldn't like that."

"So it isn't possible that I really am Dennis Gant and am here to try to talk some sense into you?"

Mulder shook his head. "It's not."

Dennis literally rose up off the bed, hovering in the air a few feet above the mattress. Mulder remained calm.

"Optical illusion. You could be some type of holographic projection."

Dennis settled back upon the bed. "And would a holographic projection be able to tell you exactly what went on in that hotel room last night? I followed John to the bar and I followed the two of you to the other hotel. I was in the backseat of the car. I saw you kiss him out front. Shall I give you all the details of the night you spent with John?"

"That won't be necessary." Mulder was angry. He was used to the idea that he could be under surveillance at any time, but he didn't like having the consortium or others prying into his private business. "Just tell me who hired you? Spender? Krycek? A foreign government? Who?"

Dennis shook his head. "You are one stubborn fool, Fox Mulder. No one hired me. I'm simply what I appear to be -- a ghost. A ghost who is concerned for his best friend and what your investigation into the Thielen case is doing to him. And ever more importantly, what your disbelief of his story is doing to him. What would it take for me to convince you that I am a ghost? That I really am Dennis Gant?"

"I don't know." Mulder looked thought about it for a few moments. "Tell me how you died."

"I had gone through a bad night at work. I was scheduled to cover the ER after the night shift ended and I was feeling very stressed out. I thought that if I went out for a walk, then I might be able to clear my head. John had been acting strange for most of the night and we almost got into a fight. I had been having a huge personality conflict with Peter Benton, who was our teacher at the time. He had laid into me in the cafeteria in front of a lot of people. It embarrassed me. John agreed with me that Benton was out of line, so, feeling that I had endured enough of Benton's abuse, I went to see Donald Anspaugh, the Chief of Staff. He listened to my complaint and then as luck would have it, Benton happened to walk by. Anspaugh drew him into the discussion. Of course, he didn't feel he was out of line. We were at an impasse and then we saw John in the hallway. Anspaugh asked him if he thought Benton was out of line. John hesitated, then said that he wasn't. I was crushed. I thought that John would side with me. I never noticed the looks that John was giving Benton; all I cared about was the fact that I had been made to look like a fool in front of the head of the hospital. Anspaugh dressed me down. Later, John told me that he never thought I would go to Anspaugh. I told him to forget about it. By then, I was feeling numb. That's when I decided to get outside. I walked around for a little bit in the snow, then decided to go home and change into some dry clothes before starting my ER shift. I was standing on the platform waiting for the El and thinking about John. I knew he had horrible nightmares, but I had never spoken to him about them. I was thinking that maybe those were what had him behaving so strangely that night -- he had been having the nightmares all that week. As the train neared the platform, someone pushed me to the tracks and I was hit by the train."

Dennis paused. This was the first time that he had ever had to tell someone what had happened that morning. All the other souls knew the story.

"Benton and John worked on me, but they weren't able to save me. After I died, a boy approached me. He said he was Bobby Carter, John's older brother. I knew about Bobby because John talked about him a lot. Even after all these years, he missed him. Bobby told me that John had been romantically involved with an older doctor at the hospital -- a woman who was not only one of our teachers, but Benton's teacher as well. She was scheduled to leave that day for Pakistan and in the early morning hours had managed to get some private time with John. And Benton walked in on them. John had been afraid that if he backed me against Benton, then Benton would say something to Anspaugh about John and the other doctor, thereby ruining her career. Bobby also told me about Joseph Thielen and the fact that he had molested not only him, but also John and their cousin Chase. That had been the cause of John's nightmares. Bobby said that Thielen had made John believe that he had killed Bobby because John had told him about the abuse. I can't imagine what it was like for John to have lived with that kind of guilt for all of these years. After Thielen died and Bobby assured him that it was a lie, John had been so relieved. And then he had to find out that it was Thielen who pushed me in front of the El. And he's now living with that guilt. I guess that you can empathize with John on that, right? You've been feeling guilty about Samantha's abduction for all of these years."

"How do you know about Samantha?"

"I know because I'm dead. I know a lot. I hear and see a lot, Mulder. Look, Bobby and I conspired together to kill Thielen and bring him to the highest justice possible. His soul is now burning in Hell and he'll never haunt or hurt anyone else. Clark Morgan knew that he couldn't charge a ghost with murder and he also knew that he couldn't write the truth in his report. So, he managed to convince his Captain that Thielen committed suicide. The case was closed and everyone was happy with the outcome. Everyone that is except for Dwight Evans. He's an honorable man, and I'm sure that if he knew the truth, then he would agree that the case was handled in the best manner possible. He wasn't out to ruin Clark Morgan. When he called the FBI, he was doing so because he truly wanted to right a wrong. I'm going to go see him next. I don't think he'll want you and Dana Scully here once I leave his apartment."

"Do you intend to threaten him?"

Dennis looked at him levelly. "I intend to tell him the truth. The same truth I've told you. The truth is out there, Agent Mulder. Isn't that the motto you live your life by? Even when the truth is painful, such as finding out that your most hated enemy is in reality your father? Think about it, Mulder. And if you find yourself believing that there really are ghosts, then tell that to John. Just don't tell him that I was here. It would hurt him even more to know that you only believed him because a ghost had to convince you of the truth. He wanted you to believe him without any interference from the spirit world."

Dennis rose up off the bed again, then floated through the wall. Mulder jumped up from the chair and opened the door, but he didn't see anyone at all in the parking lot. Nor did he see any cars speeding away. He closed the door, then went over to the bed, feeling the spot on the covers where Dennis Gant had been sitting. There was no indentation there, no sign that anyone had sat there at all. The only thing that told him that something had been there was the fact that the blanket was ice cold. With a frown, Mulder sat back down at the table. He had a lot to think about.


Dawn came finding Mulder still at the table. And the only big realization he had come to was that he needed to see John at least one more time. Needed to tell him he was sorry and that he cared about him. However Mulder was so afraid that John would shrug off those words and turn his back on him. A knock on his door roused Mulder from his seat and he opened it without first looking to see who was there.

"You look like Hell," Scully said as she stepped into Mulder's room.

Mulder sat back in the chair. "Thank you. I feel like Hell, too. I had...a visitor last night."

"John Carter?" Scully asked, hopeful that the man had come by and that all was settled between him and her partner. Although, judging by the grim look in Mulder's eyes, if John had been there, then nothing had been settled.

"Dennis Gant, Junior." Mulder evenly replied.

"Dennis Gant, Junior as in the man who died several years ago? The owner of the gun?" Scully asked as she closed the door.

"The very same."

"Oh." Scully sat down on the foot of the bed. "So you had a visit from a ghost?" She asked, a smile playing around her lips.

"I did. And he sat right where you're sitting."

Scully shivered but she didn't move. "So, he changed your mind?"

Mulder shrugged but Scully's unwavering stare made him nod. "He did. I believe him. I believe what John said, too. I just...I don't know how to tell him, Scully. Gant said that I shouldn't tell John about his visit, that John needs to believe that I believe John without any outside interference." Mulder ran a hand over his eyes. "I hate lying to John, but Gant is right. John would be even more hurt to find out that I had to be visited by a ghost before I would believe him."

"Okay," Scully nodded. "I can see your point. So what's the problem? You go to John and you tell him that you believe him and that we're recommending that the case remain closed."

"We're recommending that?" Mulder asked.

"Of course we are. You go to him and tell him and then ask him to forgive you for not immediately believing him. Hell, Mulder, get down on your knees and..." Scully grinned wickedly "beg him or something. I'd like for you to leave Chicago a happy man."

"I'd like that, as well, but I don't think John will see me."

"Try him. You've got all his numbers, Mulder. Call the man and tell him you need to talk to him -- personally and not professionally. Don't take 'no' for an answer, either."

Mulder nodded, knowing Scully was right. He needed to see John, needed to tell him that he believed John's story about what had happened to Joseph Thielen. Needed to get down on his knees and beg his forgiveness while he was sucking the life out of John through his cock. Mulder grinned. Yes, he could do all that...and more.

"I'll call him. So, are we leaving in the morning?" Mulder got to his feet and walked over to the nightstand by the bed, moving the phone to the mattress.

"How about the day after that? I wouldn't mind taking in some sights while here and we're both due some time off. I think Skinner will understand. I'll call him and get us an extra day one way or another." Scully headed for the door. "Good luck." She left for her room to call Walter Skinner and Mulder fished John's card out of his pocket, then dialed the number for the ER. One way or another he'd get John to listen to him. Get John to forgive him so that he could leave a happy man behind in Chicago.


To be continued

Jerry frowned as he recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. He caught Carter's eye and nodded, but Carter shook his head. Jerry's frown deepened. He really didn't understand why the F.B.I. was hounding Carter this way, but he didn't think it was his place to say something to Agent Mulder. Now, if Weaver would happen to be around one of the times that the agent called...Jerry knew that she would put a stop to it.

"I'm sorry Agent Mulder, but Dr. Carter is in a trauma right now. Are you sure that I can't take a message?"

"No," the voice on the other end sounded defeated and Jerry began to rethink things as they stood between Carter and the G-man. An agent investigating a murder wouldn't sound like that just because he couldn't question someone. Would he? "I'll try to catch him later. Thanks, Jerry."

"Not a problem, Agent Mulder." Jerry hung the phone up and looked guiltily in Carter's direction. "That was Mulder again.

"So I heard. Thanks, Jerry. I'm really not up to talking to him again," Carter said. "I really appreciate all that you're doing to keep him away from me."

"Not a problem, Dr. C," Jerry replied. He watched as Carter went to the lounge, then he nodded. There was something interesting going on and he was sure it didn't have anything to do with the case. So what else could it be? Jerry liked mysteries and he smiled as he engaged his mental gears in an effort to figure out the latest.

*************************

Mulder slipped the receiver into the cradle of the phone. He knew John wasn't continually busy at the hospital. The man was ignoring him. And Mulder wasn't so dumb as to not get the message.

"Dammitt!" He hurled the phone across the room, taking some satisfaction in the way the various plastic pieces separated. It made him feel a little better, but not much. He wouldn't feel better until he could see John.

Mulder knew he had some options. He could keep calling John at work, sounding like a love sick fool. He could go to the hospital and look like a love sick fool. He could forget about trying to make things right and just go home and never see John Carter again.

Mulder didn't like any of those options. Which left one -- he could go to John's house and wait for him to come home. John would have to talk with him then.

Mulder grabbed his keys and went to Scully's room so he could find out if they had their extra day and to let her know where he was headed.

Scully was happy to see him up to the second she took in his sad expression. "I guess you haven't spoke with John yet?"

"He won't take my calls. I can't get past good ole Jerry, the desk clerk. I can hear it in his voice that John's there though." Mulder bitterly said.

Scully shook her head. "You don't know that for sure, Mulder. County General is an inner city hospital with a very busy emergency department. It's possible that John just can't take the time for a personal call."

"Possible but not likely." Mulder jingled the car keys. "I'm going over to his place to wait for him. One way or another he'll talk to me."

Scully grinned. "Just don't get yourself arrested for harassment, okay?"

Mulder smiled back. "I'll try my best to stay on the right side of the law, but I'm not making any guarantees. I've never met anyone quite like John and I don't want things to end this way. It's important that I tell him that I believe him, even if nothing else happens."

Scully nodded. "Good luck. And, Mulder, if something *does* happen, then you have a few extra days. We don't have to be back in DC until Friday."

"Friday?" Mulder was surprised at having the extra few days. "How'd you convince Skinner to go along with that?"

"Oh, I just told him that we couldn't possibly leave until you had made up with this incredible hunk of a doctor you had picked up in a gay bar. He said for you to take all the time you needed as long as we were back in town on Friday."

Mulder stared at his partner. "You didn't?"

Scully laughed. "I didn't. But it was tempting. Almost too tempting. But then I thought that news like that would be better to spring on him in person. That way I can see his face as he realizes what I'm saying."

"You wouldn't?" Mulder asked, a hint of warning in his voice.

"I might. It all depends on how you behave from now on, Mulder." Scully had a smirk on her face. "Do you know how good it feels to have something over on you? Something that can guarantee I don't have to stay in dumps when we travel? Something to make sure you don't run off on wild goose chases while we're in the field?"

Mulder sighed. "We'll talk about your blackmail plans later, Agent Scully. I can only worry about one thing at a time and right now John's the one thing."

"Good luck, Mulder," Scully said, serious once more. She gave him a quick hug and a light kiss on his cheek. "Don't let him get away."

"I'll do my best."

**************************

Mulder endured two hours of sitting on the front steps of Kerry Weaver's house before his patience was rewarded. He had just waved at yet another neighbor out walking a dog -- this man happened to be needing to walk his dog every thirty minutes, because he had passed Mulder at least four times since he had first decided to sit a vigil on the steps, when he heard a car door slam and a muttered curse from somewhere to his right. Looking in that direction, Mulder saw John approaching him, Kerry Weaver close behind and doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the angry young man who was now bearing down on Mulder.

Mulder got to his feet, glad to be standing on the bottom step as that gave him a height advantage over John. "We need to talk," Mulder said.

"We have nothing to say to each other. You know, just because you're an F.B.I. agent it doesn't give you the right to hound me at work and home. If you have a case against me, then arrest me. If you don't, then leave me the Hell alone," John angrily replied.

Mulder nodded at Kerry as she reached them, but his eyes quickly went back to John. The man's face was flushed from anger and his eyes were dark with emotion. The same color they turned when John was aroused, Mulder remembered. But a discreet glance at John's crotch told Mulder that arousal wasn't the cause of those dark eyes then.

"Well, I have something more to say to you and I'd prefer to do it inside where your neighbors can't overhear me." Mulder calmly said.

"That's an excellent idea, excuse me," Kerry said as she pushed her way past Mulder and began to unlock the door. "It's much cooler inside and Clark will be here soon."

Mulder didn't miss her emphasis on the fact that backup was on the way. It was good to know that John had people looking out for his welfare, but Mulder wasn't going to budge until he could get John to agree to listen to him.

The door opened and Mulder felt cool air hit his back as air conditioned air swept out toward the street. He looked at John, eyebrows raised. "Shall we go inside then?"

Silent, John walked past Mulder and into the house. Mulder followed quickly, relieved to see that Kerry was holding the door open for him. Once he was in, she quickly shut it. "I'll be upstairs if you need me," she said, directing her comment toward John.

"Okay." After depositing his bag by the door, John walked into the living room, knowing Mulder was close behind him. He turned around. "What do you have to say that was so important you kept calling me at work?"

"I believe you, John." Mulder put as much sincerity into that sentence as he could muster. John had to believe that he meant what he was saying. For one thing, it was true. He did believe John's story. But, Mulder also knew that while what Dennis Gant -- or would it be more correct to say the entity that had once been Dennis Gant -- had said was true, John needed to think that Mulder believed him and didn't know about Joseph Thielen's death just because a ghost convinced him of the truth.

The two men stared at each other for a few moments and then John nodded. "Are you going back to D.C. now? Without reopening the case?"

That wasn't quite what Mulder wanted to hear, but it was a start. "Yes. We've already told the local Bureau director that there isn't anything to investigate. It's over, John." Mulder hoped he wasn't lying. Scully was supposed to have made that call earlier in the day.

Again, John nodded, but when Mulder approached him, John backed away. "I think you should go now, Mulder."

"I can't leave you like this, John. The other night was wonderful and it isn't something that I want to ever forget. I know that yesterday was rough on you. It was rough for me, too. I didn't like having to question you."

"I'm sorry you had to do your job."

"And you're sorry about the other night, aren't you?"

John shook his head. "Not really. It was the first time that I've ever felt completely happy or satisfied. I guess that either I like guys more than I ever wanted to admit, or the damage done by Uncle Joe has made it so I can't really get close enough to a woman to feel satisfied."

Mulder reached out and gently laid his hand against John's cheek, half-afraid that John would pull away and relieved when that didn't happen. "You're not damaged, John. You gave yourself so freely, so totally, that I couldn't help but respond the same way. That's what made it satisfying. My ego tells me that I hope you never have that again with anyone, male or female. But, my heart tells me that you need a relationship like that. I hope you find someone who can be there for you all the time. God knows I can't. I was having some wild fantasies about trying to have a long distance affair with you, maybe even go on vacation with you to some exotic island, but I know in my head that those things can never happen. I can live my life like that, but you need so much more."

"I've been dumped in a lot of different ways, but never quite like this." John finally took Mulder's hand in his, but he didn't let go of it. He had known that there wouldn't be anything permanent between him and Mulder, but it still hurt to have Mulder actually say it.

"Oh, God, John, I am not dumping you. I wish with all my heart that I could be with you. But, my life; my career; things in my past; all of those get in the way. I don't work the so-called normal cases. I work the strange ones, the ones that no one else will touch. I've been bitten by a vampire, infected by an alien virus, probably spent more time in hospitals than you have. I can't expose you to all of that."

"Alien virus?" John was smiling now. "And you wouldn't believe me about a ghost?"

Mulder shrugged. "I'm sorry. I should have been the first person to believe you."

"Yes, you should have," John firmly said.

Again, the two stared at each other for a few moments, neither one knowing what to say to the other.

Mulder bravely closed the space between their bodies and kissed John. It was far from a chaste kiss and he was pleased when John responded.

"I want to get on that plane later this week with the smell of you on me, John. I want to feel your lips against mine, the touch of your fingers on my skin. I want to leave Chicago with you firmly implanted in my mind. Every inch of you so well known to me that I can close my eyes and see you at any time. Will you let me have that to take back with me?"

"Yes," John breathlessly said. "I want that, too."

"You live in the basement, right?"

"Yeah. The door's over here."

"Lead the way," Mulder said as he pulled away from John. "You know, I work in a basement."

"I guess we have a lot more in common that we thought," John smiled as he answered. He opened the door and turned on the light, then headed down the steps. Behind him, he could hear Mulder closing and locking the door, making sure there would be no interruptions from Kerry or from Clark once he arrived.

John stopped by his bed, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about why he had brought Mulder to his room. As he turned around to say something to Mulder about maybe changing his mind, he bumped into Mulder and quickly found himself being embraced by the handsome agent.

"Sorry. I didn't know you were right behind me," John said, looking down at Mulder's chest because he didn't trust himself to look into Mulder's eyes. Those eyes had been haunting him, as had the memory of how right it had felt to be with Mulder.

"I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. John, look at me," Mulder commanded. John was even more skittish tonight than he had been when Mulder had picked him up in the bar. Of course, it wasn't as if he didn't have a right to be that way. So much had happened in that short time. Mulder looked John directly in the eyes. "I won't do anything you don't want, John. I told you that before and I kept my word, right?"

"Right," John nodded as he remembered that night.

"You can trust me. I'm not here to take advantage of you or use you for any reason. I'm here to make love to you like it's never been done before. We'll probably never see each other again and I want to get enough of you to last me the rest of my life. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No." John shook his head, wanting the same thing.

"Good." Mulder leaned closer and let his lips softly touch John's, teasing his mouth. Mulder felt a thrill shoot through him when John threw himself into the kiss, making firm contact and slipping his tongue past Mulder's lips. Mulder could feel John's hands gripping his ass, squeezing urgently as the kiss deepened, and Mulder couldn't keep himself from moaning. He slid his hands to the front of John's body, pulling John's shirt from his pants and running his hands up John's belly and over his smooth chest. It excited him even more to find that John's nipples were already hard nubs, evidence of John's desire for him. But, he toyed with them anyway, eliciting moans from John as he did so.

John broke off the kiss and stepped back from Mulder, grinning as he began to undress. Mulder hurriedly did the same and soon they were once more embracing. To John, the feel of skin on skin, his hard penis against Mulder's, was intoxicating. He let Mulder push him backward onto the bed, covering his body with his own as his mouth and hands played over his sensitive skin. Feeling slightly wanton, John spread his legs and he felt Mulder settle his body between them, could feel his body pressing against his groin and the pressure aroused John even further.

Mulder sat back on his haunches and caressed John's thighs with both hands. "Do you have condoms?" Mulder asked. If John didn't, then Mulder would have to get up and find his pants. He had made sure he would be prepared if John had been receptive to him tonight.

"Night stand. Top drawer. No lube though."

"I have some in my pants. But, we don't have to worry about lube yet." Mulder leaned over John's hip and opened the drawer, easily finding the box of condoms. He didn't even try to open the box there instead he brought it with him as he resumed his position between John's legs. As he prepared John, he looked up and saw that John was braced on his elbows and watching him intently. Jesus, but he looked good that way.

Mulder slowly lowered his head, but instead of going directly for John's penis, he instead began to lick his way up John's thighs, first one and then the other. Then he slowly sucked on John's balls, smiling as he heard John's gasps of pleasures from that simple action. He abruptly let them go and took the tip of John's penis into his mouth, tightening his lips around John's erection as he lowered his mouth.

"God, Mulder, that feels so good," John moaned. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

Mulder's response was to concentrate more of his attention on John's perfect cock until he had John squirming on the bed, begging for release. Keeping one hand on John's body, playing with him, Mulder quickly opened the box of condoms with his free hand, withdrawing one and ripping open the foil with his teeth. He did have to stop touching John long enough to roll the latex over John's heated flesh, and then Mulder lowered his head once more, heeding John's pleas to let him come.


Mulder quietly unlocked and opened the door at the top of the stairs, not wanting to awaken John. Their lovemaking had been energetic, to say the least, and it hadn't taken long for John to drift off to sleep once they were cuddled in each other's arms. Remembering John's appetite, Mulder decided to head upstairs to see what he could prepare for them to eat, so he pulled on his pants and headed to the kitchen, glad that Kerry Weaver had gone out for the evening.

That assumption had been one that Mulder shouldn't have made, he realized, as he stepped into the brightly lit kitchen and saw Kerry and Clark seated at the counter. The two grinned at him, but kept quiet, for which Mulder was grateful.

"I thought you were going out?" Mulder said as he stepped fully into the kitchen.

"I only said that Clark was coming over," Kerry replied, a knowing smile playing around her lips. "Is John asleep?"

"Yeah," Mulder nodded. "I thought he'd be hungry so I was going to raid your kitchen for something."

"There are some sandwiches in the refrigerator. We made extra when we had our dinner," Kerry told him, her cheeks growing warm as she remembered how long it had taken her and Clark to accomplish that feat. The noises from downstairs, coupled with knowing exactly what it was that was making John cry out that way, had been a big turn-on for both Kerry and Clark, and they had ended up having sex in the kitchen. Not that the agent needed to know that. But it wouldn't hurt for him to know that they knew exactly what had been going on.

"If you ever invite John to DC, you should keep in mind that he gets rather loud at times," Kerry said, not even trying to keep the grin off her face.

Clark snortled, but remained silent, and Mulder's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you, Dr. Weaver."

"Please, call me Kerry," she evenly said. "You will be inviting him to visit you, won't you?" she then asked, all humor gone from her voice. She didn't want to see John hurt yet again.

"That's between John and I, Dr...Kerry," Mulder replied as he opened the door of the fridge and retrieved the sandwiches and two beers. "Thanks." And then he was back behind the safety of the closed door, unable to relock it though, as his hands were full. But he didn't think that Kerry and Clark were going to walk in on them.

As he headed back to John's bed, Mulder thought about Kerry's question. He had already told John that there could be nothing between them, but was that really true? Was he selling their potential relationship short by ending things before they began? Would John be willing to settle for a long distance love? Having John in Chicago would lend an added level of safety for John, Mulder thought.

He reached John's bed, glad to see that his lover was still asleep, looking even younger as he lay there stretched out on his back, one arm flung above his head, between the pillow and the headboard. Mulder put the food and beer on the nightstand, then carefully sat down on the side of the bed, his fingers going directly to John's face where they tenderly traced over his skin. John moved slightly, turning his head away from the irritation and Mulder smiled. There was more than one way to wake up a sleepy lover, he thought as his hands pulled down on the covers until John's entire body was exposed to him.

Torn between taking John's limp cock into his mouth so he could suck him into hardness and tormenting John into awakefulness, Mulder chose the torment. After all, tormenting John awake would most likely lead to some wonderful 'making it up to John' sex, and Mulder was definitely in the mood for something like that.

He picked up the neared can of beer, then eased the metal against John's skin, mentally counting until he heard "Sweet Jesus!" Mulder grinned down at John as he moved the can away. "Two seconds, that's pretty quick, John."

John glared up at Mulder, irritated at being abruptly awoken by a cold can of something against his skin. "Go away," he grumbled as he sat up, looking for the covers.

"Sorry," Mulder replied with a chuckle. "That's not going to happen any time soon. I don't have to be back to DC until Friday, and right now I'm planning on spending all my time with this handsome doctor who picked me up in a bar the other night."

"Really?" John asked, giving up on the covers and instead looking into Mulder's laughing eyes. "I'd say that doctor is one lucky guy."

"No," Mulder seriously replied as he leaned in close. "I'd say that I'm one lucky guy to have met him." And then their lips met, a kiss tender and loving, that told Mulder that he would be a fool to get on the plane Friday and never again see John. But there would be time to discuss things like that later. Right then, all Mulder wanted to do was to feed his doctor so the man would have enough energy for another round. Who knew? Maybe he could John to scream loud enough to disturb the neighbors? It was definitely a goal worth trying to reach.

To be continued...