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.

Author's Note: Alicia left me alone again to go to work. 
This  could be read as a companion piece to "Soft Decline". 
If you  want to. 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. 
<g>

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* 
necesary. 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
~~~~