From: daddy793@aol.com (Daddy793) Date: 1998/09/09 Subject: NEW: "If You Knew My Infinite Charms..." AW VI: If You Knew My Infinite Charms... by Te 8/98 Disclaimers: Not mine. *So* not mine. Spoilers: Itty bitty one for FTF. Summary: Alex takes care of some business. Ratings Note: R for violence. Not exactly slash. Author's Note: Alicia left me alone again to go to work. This could (and probably should) be read as a companion piece to "Soft Decline". Yet another "Gonna Get Close To You" story, and I'm also going to blame Viridian's assorted random violence stories for corrupting me. Because I can. Acknowledgments: To the mysterious Viridian, for fine, fine beta. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AW VI: If You Knew My Infinite Charms... by Te Daddy793@aol.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alex leaned back against the wall, careful of the vague sponginess, the sense of instability under the stained beige paint. He had a brief, disturbing moment in which he wished he still had someone to chauffeur for. But there were other //always more// jobs to do. Necessities. And this one involved pressing back and back into decay and trying to ignore the raging hard-on he was currently sporting. The last bullet had come much too close, the air was rank with American rot, and there was something positively nasty on the sole of his right boot. This whole assignment had the makings of a world class fuck-up, and, as always, that made him horny. He'd never quite figured out the connection between the two, but it had been a standard physical reaction since puberty. Have a paper due in 6 hours? Beat off. Drag your life just *that* much closer to utter ruin? Beat off. Get a gun shoved in your face? Well, there's rarely a good opportunity to beat off when that happens. Hence, the raging hard on. More gunshots, and the bit of vinyl nailed to the window now had all the light-blocking abilities of moldering Swiss cheese. Alex was grateful for the past few weeks he'd spent living from hand to mouth while tracking this target. He was, apparently, just about lean enough to fade, literally, into the woodwork. Though he'd have to patch his jacket again. Not that the ostentatious hardship had been *strictly* necessary. The little mad scientist (with the blessedly poor aim) he'd been hunting could've been found by any one of the underlings he'd appeared to have inherited with his former patron's demise.... However, every once in a while, Alex got the distinct impression there was something that needed to be Done. He was fully aware that it was paranoia on his part, but such petty insanities were a part of the life he'd chosen for himself. And the rat-like existence had its diversions, if not precisely pleasures. And, besides, pumping a clip full of hollow points into another man's skull tended to be both therapeutic *and* practical. //Waste no part of the animal.// Click-click from just around the corner and Alex felt his lips pull back from his teeth. Felt the sporadic beams of bullet-freed sunlight spotlight his back with pinpoint warmth. Almost... *almost*... felt the assignment's heart plummet straight down to his intestines with that impression of "Oh, fuck, no," that freezes a man in place. Alex stroked himself once, twice, again, through the denim. Wasting time. Giving the target time he shouldn't. But, oh yeah, it felt good. A voice at the back of his mind said: This is stupid, wrong, and dangerous. Alex bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, nodded to himself, gave his cock one last, vicious squeeze, and turned the corner just in time to see the rabbity little freak gearing himself up to escape. "Too damn slow, Marks." "Please..." "Too damn late." One shot, two shot, and this was so messy even the apathetic and cowed residents of this nasty little place *had* to be taking notice by now. Marks was pulped. Alex was... spattered. He checked his watch. Eight p.m. He wondered what Mulder was up to. ~~~~ End ~~~~ "Hey, you! You seem sick and twisted enough for the character I'm writing. Show me what a bad idea a relationship with you is!" -- Misha, the flirt...