by Amy B.
Rating: Would give too much away ;-) Trust me.
Warnings/Spoilers: Not meant to fit into the continuity of either show,
really. This is the first *slash* story I ever wrote and has
been languishing on my hard drive for quite awhile. Maybe posting it will help me break the writerís block on the Cameron
As always feedback greatly appreciated: firstname.lastname@example.org
Standard Disclaimer: Baltimore Pictures and 1013 Productions. Not mine,
dammit! But this is what theyíd do if they were...
Tim Bayliss shut his apartment door with more force than necessary.
He flung his keys on the coffee table and himself on the
couch. Damn, what a day. He had spent the whole morning in court, which he hated. The afternoon had been filled with the
little irritations that usually only occur one or two at a time. Misplaced evidence, missing files, miscommunication,
misinformation, Frank at his sanctimonious best, Kellerman at his irritating worst, and, above it all, Gee yelling for more black
on the board.
The silence settled over him as he closed his eyes and leaned his head
against the back of the couch. Friday night and he didnít
have to work at the Waterfront until 4 p.m. tomorrow. Tim sighed and felt the release of a little more of the tension that had
bound him up all day. He stretched out his tired muscles and debated whether to have dinner or a shower first. He decided to
split the difference and have a sandwich while he undressed.
After a hot shower, Tim felt pretty good and too energetic to sit at
home alone on a Friday night. What to do? The Waterfront
was out of the question. As much as Tim loved the bar he shared with Munch and Lewis, it got boring sometimes. It was a
quiet place for serious drinking and unwinding after a long day at work. But occasionally he found himself wanting loud music
and flashing lights and exotic people. He usually ignored these thoughts, but now he saw no reason to do so. He was free to do
anything he wanted and tonight he wanted something completely different.
He went to his closet to get one of the dozen nearly identical white
shirts he owned, but a patch of black leather caught his eye.
He reached into the very back of his closet and pulled out the jacket. After he had gotten it and worn it once, he had hung it up
and forgotten about it. Even after two years it was still a perfect fit, at least physically. He had never felt that it fit *him* so it
was exiled to the back of the closet.
Tim Bayliss made an uncharacteristic and bold decision. Not only would
he wear the black leather jacket, he would also wear
his tightest jeans even though they were faded and worn. He figured the plain white T-shirt would be too Brando or maybe just
too obvious. He instead put on a jade green shirt that an ex-girlfriend had said complimented his eyes. He wasnít quite sure
how green complimented brown, but she had been right about most other things like how wrong they were for each other.
Fifteen minutes later Tim was on the street and heading for his car.
He reconsidered the wisdom of driving and caught a cab
instead. When the driver asked his destination, Tim was almost surprised to hear himself give the name and address of a club
his friend Chris Rawls had told him about. The Gaslight wasnít exactly a "gay bar" more of an anything goes kind of place.
Chris had assured him it was the perfect place for someone who was exploring his options. Tim certainly felt like an explorer
tonight and he was definitely keeping his options open.
Well, the music was certainly loud and the people were definitely exotic
to Tim at least. He went straight to the bar and ordered
a beer. He hoped after a drink or two this out of place feeling would fade. He certainly felt more comfortable with a bottle in his
hand and a bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. He watched the crowd with fascination. Everybody was free and comfortable with
each other. Guys danced with girls or with other guys or both at the same time- it didnít seem to matter. Partnerships changed
right on the dance floor. There sure didnít seem to be any shame or confusion in this crowd. No-what did Frank call it?- angst.
Yeah, thatís it no angst here.
As soon as Alex Krycek stepped into the club, he knew it was perfect.
The place was loud and busy with bright lights and
plenty of dark corners. The crowd was wild and uninhibited--perfect for hiding or hunting.
Alex found a table in the shadows and sat with his back to the wall.
He ordered a drink and settled back to watch and wait. He
turned down a couple of dance requests and ignored a few come hither looks. He preferred to take his time and pick his
conquest carefully. He wasnít sure exactly who or what he was looking for yet but he would know it when he saw it. He briefly
considered the pretty little blonde flirting from the next table, but then she giggled extinguishing any spark of attraction.
He watched the constantly shifting bodies crowded around the bar for
awhile until one finally caught his eye. At first glance, the
man looked like any other guy in the bar. On second glance, he looked uncomfortable but fascinated with his surroundings. At
6í3", he was a couple inches taller than Alex and therefore not his usual type. Alex preferred his casual lovers smaller and easily
dominated even if he chose not to do so. The short brown hair and gold rimmed glasses reminded him of Fox, but he didnít
want to be distracted by that right now. He couldnít believe his luck. Less than fifteen minutes in the club and he had already
found what he wanted. Now if he could just get the guy to make eye contact long enough to gauge his availability.
He had just started on his second beer when he noticed the man at a
table in the corner watching him. He had dark spiky hair
and a face that wavered between sweet and dangerous. Tim looked over his shoulder to see if there was someone else there,
but apparently it was Tim himself who held the guyís attention. He glanced away, but was drawn right back to that steady gaze.
This happened a couple more times until finally Tim held eye contact for about ten seconds. He managed a small half smile and
that was all it took.
//Finally!// thought Krycek as the man at the bar noticed him. Dark
eyes met his briefly and skittered away but quickly returned.
The guy looked kind of innocent so Alex figured this was a pretty good indication of interest. When he saw the shy little smile
on that tantalizing mouth, he knew it was time to make his move.
The stranger moved to Timís side and waved to the bartender. "Another
vodka and another beer," he motioned at Timís bottle.
He stepped closer to Tim and smiled. Tim had thought he was attractive from a distance but, up close, the guy was gorgeous.
He had undress-me green eyes with long black lashes and a lush sensual mouth that begged to be kissed. He was dressed in
tight black jeans, a black leather jacket similar to Timís, and a tight white T-shirt. On him it was definitely Brando and actually
worked. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost intimate, even in the noisy crush of the crowd. "Hi, I ím Alex. Can I buy
you a drink?"
Tim nodded and wracked his brain for something clever or charming to
say but came up blank. So he went for the obvious.
"Hey, Alex. Iím Tim." He almost breathed a sigh of relief at how casual he sounded. "Nice to meet you." //Yeah, thatís it
casual. Heís a guy-- Iím a guy. If all else fails, we can talk about baseball then ignore each other.//
"Youíre new here arenít you?" Alex asked with a knowing smile as they settled side by side at the tiny table in the shadows.
"Yeah, itís pretty obvious, huh?" Tim replied with wry self-amusement.
"Only to someone looking closely. And I was looking *very* closely. You seem more like an observer than a participant."
"Occupational hazard, I guess." When Alex looked like he would pursue
that remark, Tim jumped in to shift the focus. "So do
you come here a lot?"
"No, actually itís my first time too. Iím new in town." He picked up
his glass and took a slow savoring sip never taking his eyes
from Timís. He licked the lingering drops of vodka from his lips.
Suddenly Tim was tingling in places he didnít know he had. His mind
started drifting from the conversation to thoughts of a
more carnal nature. //Focus you idiot! Say something. Anything!// He thought somewhat frantically. "Um, where did you live
"D.C. mostly. I travel a lot." Alex looked away briefly then smiled at Tim and asked, "Would you like to dance?"
"Iím not really much of a dancer," replied Tim with a faint blush of embarrassment. "So, what do you do?"
//Iím a spy. A double...no, triple...well, letís say a freelance agent.//
Alex smiled sweetly and said, somewhat truthfully, "Iím in
Again Alex got that knowing look in his eyes. "When you said you were
new, you meant to this whole scene, didnít you?
Youíre still a little uncomfortable with the public aspects." He looked at the other man appraisingly. "Why donít we try this
then?" He reached under the table and laid his hand high up on Timís thigh.
Tim jerked upright his spine stiffening until a strong arm came around
his shoulders. He settled back down and realized two
things. One, no one was paying attention to what was going on under the table or even at the table sitting back in the shadows
as it was. And two, the hand wasn't moving. It just lay there, not limp, just still. And very, very warm.
Alex leaned closer, his right hand tightening slightly on Tim's shoulder,
and whispered in his ear, "See, it's okay. Nobody here
cares what we do. Half these people are a step away from full copulation anyway."
Tim swallowed convulsively then turned his head and met those tempting
lips with own. He froze then trembled slightly,
shocked at his sudden bravery. He had exchanged a few nearly chaste kisses with Chris before they had decided to just be
friends. This was totally different.
This was a stranger that he was really attracted to-- a sexy, mysterious
stranger. //What am I doing?// asked his brain. His body
said //Shut up. This is hot and sweet and spicy and I want MORE!//
When Alex started to return the kiss, Tim ignored his brain and began
to kiss the other man in earnest. At first, he was as
tender as he would be with a woman. But when muscular arms tightened around him, he remembered that this was no woman.
His kiss became very forceful, almost rough, but Alex met him all the way with equal fervor and superior skill. Tim drew back
staring at the man in his arms and tried desperately to catch his breath.
Dark green eyes gazed back at Tim trying to look harmless. Alex had
chosen--he wanted... this man. He didn't want to scare
him away because then he would have to stay here and hunt some more when what he really wanted to do was go home and
go to bed. And he really didn't want to go alone. He had been alone way too much lately and he was sick of it.
"Don't stop now. It was just getting good," he whispered as he pressed
his lips to Tim's jaw. He nipped his way down that nice
long throat until he reached the spot where Tim's pulse thudded wildly. He bit gently then soothed it with his tongue when Tim
gasped. Alex continued to tease and arouse his partner while one part of his brain calculated the risk of taking the guy to his
apartment. Sparsely furnished and barely lived in, his place was surely free of anything incriminating. He would never have
lasted this long in the game if he had been careless.
Tim was about to go up in flames. He put his hands to Alex's shoulders
and pushed gently. They were in a public place, for
crying out loud! He had to regain some control or he was going to face some very embarrassing explanations when his fellow
police officers arrested him for public lewdness. He almost laughed at his own foolishness, but Alex touched him in a way that
made his mind go totally blank.
"Tim, do you want to get out of here? Go somewhere private?"
Once again Tim Bayliss made a bold and uncharacteristic decision and said, "Okay. Where?"
"My place's not far from here."
The two men left the club and walked the two blocks to Alex's apartment
quickly, close but not touching. Alex watched the
traffic, both cars and people, with an intensity that Tim failed to notice in his haze of desire, anticipation, and fear. More that
once during that short walk did he ask himself //what the hell am I doing?!// He would take a deep breath, try to relax, and tell
his brain to give it a rest. He was going to take things as they come and enjoy it. He choked back a slightly hysterical laugh as
he realized what he was thinking.
Alex glanced at his companion as he unlocked his door. Alex didn't think
he had ever seen anybody look so aroused yet so
worried. He smiled reassuringly at Tim as he ushered him into the main room of the small flat. He hung their jackets on a rack
behind the door and made small talk about the building and neighborhood. He waved Tim over to the small sofa and went to
kitchen for a beer to further relax his nervous guest.
Tim sat down and tried to settle down and avoid looking at the bed at
the other side of the room, but it was no easy task. He
was sailing in uncharted waters and unsure of his course. He sort of knew what he wanted, but asking for it-- or actually doing
it-- *that* was something else entirely. And he had no idea what Alex wanted...well, maybe *some* idea. He decided to just
let Alex lead the way and if it turned out he didn't want to go there...
Alex came back with the beer for Tim and sat down on the couch. He settled
just inside Tim's personal space and said, "Look,
we can take this slow. You just tell me if there's anything you don't like or don't want to do. 'S that okay?"
Tim drank half the bottle in one gulp, set it down, and nodded. "Yeah, ok, I 'm ready."
Laughing, Alex said, "Good grief, you make it sound like getting a tooth
pulled!" Tim was starting to blush so he cast him a
sultry look from under long black lashes and moved closer. "I'll be gentle."
Alex was practically in Tim's lap doing an incredibly thorough dental
exam when a loud thumping came from the hallway. Tim
pushed Alex back a little and tried to disengage his mouth enough to speak, to think-- something. He realized the thumping was
someone knocking on the door and it was starting to sound a little frantic. He pushed harder against Alex's chest and mumbled
"Someone's at the door."
"Ignore it." Alex moved all the way into Tim's lap and started opening
buttons with more speed than finesse. Kissing and
nipping and trying to get both their shirts off at the same time, Alex blocked out all sound, except the subtle snick of tumblers
turning in the lock. He jerked his head up just as the door swung open.
Federal agent Fox Mulder stood frozen in the doorway watching his lover
scramble away from the very bewildered man on his
sofa. Alex handed a pair of gold-rimmed glasses to the guy who was trying to button his shirt and smooth his rumpled hair at
the same time.
"Alex...what...who..." Tim glanced from the man blocking the exit to
the man turning pale next to him. He finished smoothing his
appearance out just as the new guy moved into the room. Tim drew himself up to his full height and tried to look tough as he
wondered how quickly he could get out the door and whether he would have to take out the guy in front of it.
"Alex, what the hell is going on here?" Mulder asked as he stalked over
to where Krycek was trying to restore order to his own
appearance. "I go to Iowa for a week and you move out of town? And now this?"
"You're the one who said we should cool it for awhile, Mr. This-could-ruin-my-career.
How'd you find out I moved here,
anyway?" As soon as the question was out, Alex realized how stupid it was. //Duh, he's a professional *investigator*. And he
knows how your mind works. Sometimes,// he amended as he looked over at Tim who was grabbing his jacket on his way out
the door. Some insane impulse made him call out, "Tim, don't go. The evening's not over yet!"
"Oh, yes it is!" called Tim Bayliss as his made his escape. He heard a low voiced argument begin as he headed for the stairs.
Just before the apartment door slammed shut he thought he heard a plaintive voice cry, "But we were on a break!"
Bayliss walked into the squad room on Monday morning, got a cup of coffee,
and settled at his desk. Same as always. He had
put the disturbing Friday night behind him and he felt back to normal. Normal for him anyway.
His sometime partner Frank Pembleton had just come in and was hanging
up his coat and hat when Lieutenant Giardello came
out of his office. He loomed over Bayliss's desk with that smug look that meant he was about to give an order his detectives
would absolutely hate but would have to follow. "Do you two gentlemen have any new leads on the Hite murder?" His voice
boomed out over the room even though the detectives were right in front of him.
They both shook their heads silently refusing to make excuses for their lack of progress on the stone cold whodunit.
"That's what I thought," said Gee repressively. "Maybe the people in
my office can help you make some headway. The FBI
heard about this case and it seems to fit a string of similar murders they're currently investigating. There are two agents in my
office. I want you to go introduce yourselves and give them your *full* cooperation." With his last statement he glared at
Pembleton who stared back petulantly.
"Yes, Gee. Whatever you say Gee," Pembleton muttered, after the Lieutenant was safely on his way out of the room.
The two detectives looked at each other with resignation and headed
to Gee's office. Bayliss opened the door and stepped
inside as Frank followed several steps behind. He saw the redhead first and stepped closer to introduce himself when he
noticed the occupant of the other chair. Tim's eyes widened as the tall brown-haired agent got to his feet and said, "Special
Agent Fox Mulder. Are you Pembleton or Bayliss?"
Tim swallowed nervously at the predatory smile on the other man's face,
but managed to speak steadily enough. "Bayliss,
Detective Tim Bayliss. Nice to meet you." He stuck out is hand only because he knew Frank would question him if he didn't.
Mulder, his hazel eyes boring into Tim, shook hands with the detective
and said with the barest trace of irony, "I'm really going
to enjoy working with you."
The End. (And this time I mean it!)
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