Title: Twist Author: fran58 headers in part one Twist part 5 ******************** Vega’s corner apartment was a on the second floor, facing west, overlooking the street where Mulder was parked. He toyed with the idea of trying to gain access to the inside of the building, but he didn’t have his lock picks and he wanted to avoid being seen. There was a promising looking tree sandwiched between Vega’s building and its neighbor to the north. It would do, Mulder thought. The neighboring building was dark. The basswood rose past the second floor windows and had still not dropped its leaves. That, and the fact that darkness was rapidly approaching should provide adequate cover. Mulder hoped Vega was not too security conscious. He crossed the street quickly, glancing around. The block was deserted for the moment. Mulder went around to the side of the tree facing away from the street and grabbed the lowest branch. He hauled himself up, scrabbling for a foothold. The leaves made a swooshing sound as his efforts shook the branches. He steadied himself on the bottom most limb then reached for another. As he pulled his body up, he glanced toward Vega’s apartment. There was an old iron fire escape perched outside of the window. Well, the gods of surveillance were with him tonight. He would have to remember to perform the ritual ceremony later. Until then, a small prayer of thanks would have to do. Mulder inched over to the fire escape and stretched out a tentative left foot. He pushed down, testing the structure’s strength. It seemed sturdy enough and he slowly transferred his weight to his left foot, grasping the branch above his head more firmly. There was a slight creak, but nothing alarming. He slid his right foot over next to his left, then loosened his grip on the branch. Vega had left a light on and Mulder had a good view of the main living area.. There were two windows, side by side, in front of him, both open slightly. Mulder reached into the pocket of his jeans and extracted a pocket knife. He flicked a long, slender blade open and began to work at the screen. After a few moments, he managed to loosen the lower portion and slid it up as far as he could, then pushed up on the sash. Mulder landed with a soft thud on the hardwood floor. He paused a moment, listening. There was the muffled sound of a television and the ceiling creaked momentarily as someone walked across the floor in the apartment above. He was at the far end of the L-shaped living area. Toward the other end of the front room and off to the left was the kitchen area, where the light came from. Really just an extension of the main room. Immediately to Mulder’s left was the bedroom and bath. Leo’s apartment was spare. Mulder wandered around for a minute, taking in the sturdy wooden furnishings, not really sure what he was looking for. A dining table sat in the kitchen area, just to his left as he faced the door that Mulder assumed lead into the apartment building’s hallway. To Mulder’s right, near the windows that overlooked the street, two chairs and a couch were grouped around an area rug with an American Indian design. A bookcase rested against one wall. As he had in Byers’ room, Mulder examined the books. Several generic books on psychology and art didn’t give him much useful information. Either Leo didn’t have much in the way of imagination, or the good stuff was somewhere else. He found the music CD’s more interesting. The Clash was lined up next to Clannaad. Tom Petty next to Ravel. He moved to the desk and carefully glanced through the papers stacked neatly under a painted rock. The paperweight was more interesting than the papers it held down. On the surface was a childish painting of a bright yellow sun, complete with a smily face. Flowers sprouted near the bottom in the green grass – reds, blues and purples. Mulder turned it over. “To Uncle Leandro, Love Sara” was spelled out in purple paint. She had made the “O” in love into a smiley face, also. Yep, everyone’s happy, happy, happy, boy oh boy. Mulder replaced the rock gently and resolutely headed for the bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, the bedroom was neat and uncluttered. Seemed like Scully had a thing for men who could keep house. He should have guessed. Mulder squared his shoulders and moved into the room, glancing at his watch. He only had a few more minutes – so he would have to make it fast. He started with the books stacked neatly on the bureau. These were more interesting than the others in the front room. A book called ‘Bushcraft, a couple of Kurt Vonnegut’s and one thick tome entitled “Forensic Medicine and Trauma” – that one had to be Scully’s. The thought pained him. He glanced again at his watch – he really needed to get out of the apartment. As much as he would have liked, he didn’t have time to do a thorough search. He made a quick search through the closet, finding more evidence of Scully’s presence, but nothing out of the ordinary, unless you counted the vintage leisure suit stuck way in the back. Mulder went through the bureau -- T-shirts, jeans, shorts, socks. He moved to the small chest of drawers that served as a night stand. Mulder pulled out the drawers one at a time. Odds and ends, extra keys, bandanas, a writing tablet, a couple pens. The top drawer was locked. Mulder gave it another tug, wishing he had more time. He certainly didn’t want to leave evidence that he was here – breaking the lock was out of the question. He glanced at his watch again. Time to go. With a final tug on the drawer he reluctantly left the bedroom and stepped back out onto the fire escape. He was pushing down the screen when he heard a familiar voice below him on the street. He stilled himself and glanced down in time to see Scully and Vega amble past the tree. Once they were out of sight, he quickly finished replacing the screen, and hunkered down on the fire escape. He might as well take advantage of the situation. Through the window, Mulder watched the wooden door swing open, its polished surface catching warm light. Vega headed off to Mulder’s left while Scully slipped off her shoes and set them to one side of the door. Mulder could hear muffled sounds coming from the kitchen area. Scully stood near the wall, tilting her head to the right, then the left, stretching her neck muscles in a gesture Mulder found painfully familiar. The light in the kitchen winked off and the apartment was in semi-darkness, the only light shining in from outside the windows. Vega reappeared and moved to Scully’s side kissing her quickly on her exposed neck. She smiled briefly, dropped her hand on Vega’s shoulder and pulled him closer. Vega moved in to kiss her in earnest and Mulder winced. He really shouldn’t stay. He shouldn’t be watching this. Vega abruptly shoved Scully into the wall with a dull thud. He grasped her wrists and pulled her arms above her head trapping them there. Mulder could feel his body tense. There was something dark and scarf-like dangling from Vega’s left hand Mulder hadn’t noticed before. Apparently Scully hadn’t noticed it either, because she gasped when Vega quickly wrapped the black cloth around her wrists. Mulder could feel his bile rise. His stomach was in knots. What the hell was going on? At that moment, Scully chose to laugh. It was not a sound that Mulder had ever heard from her. It wasn’t apprehensive or nervous as he had expected – it was a sound full of exhilaration and arousal. ******************** Scully’s voice drifted through the open window. “You surprised me. Been practicing?” “Only on you, novia,” was the low answer. Her back was pressed against the rough surface of the wall, her hands held together by the cloth binding. Leo kissed her hard, pushing in against her body and she responded, pushing back against him. “You got bruises last time, we should be careful.” “I don’t care,” she answered, rubbing the length of her torso against his. “Touch me, Leo.” “I guess it’s lucky you have all these little buttons down the front of your dress.” His hands moved deftly along the material, then parted the fabric. No bra, but she knew he had already figured that out. He wisped his hands over her skin. Scully felt a whimper rise in the back of her throat, her breathing was fast and shallow. All at once the bonds on her wrists seemed too much, and she tugged at them, only causing them to tighten further. “Stop struggling,” Leo whispered against her breastbone. “You know it only makes it worse.” “Leo, please.” “Please what?” he asked, pushing her panties down over bare legs. He knelt down to allow her to step out of them, rubbed his lips on her stomach, kissing her there he reached up to stroke a nipple. Scully shuddered, excitement moving through her body. She twitched as Leo slipped his hand over her inner thigh, biting her tongue to keep from crying out. It didn’t take much these days, she thought. Not if they did things right. “Please what,” he said again, tickling her behind the knee. “Please now.” “So impatient, Dana.” Leo said with a light shake of his head. “You should be more like me.” “Oh yeah, you’re a paragon of patience.” “I have my moments.” “That you do,” she agreed, her voice coming out in breathy gasps as Leo rose suddenly and pinched the other nipple. He twisted it in his fingers, then buried his head in the crook of her neck and bit down hard. Little spurts of pain traveled along her nerves and this time Scully whimpered in earnest, closing her eyes, twisting against her bonds again. She felt her hips thrust forward of their own accord. When she opened her eyes, she found that Leo had removed his shirt. His smooth brown skin glinting in the street light coming in through the front windows. Scully’s tongue darted between her lips as he reached for his belt and slid his jeans and shorts down to the floor. Before straightening, he reached into the side pocket of his discarded pants and extracted a small object. Keeping the object hidden in the palm of his hand, Leo stepped forward, roughly grabbing Scully by the hips. Now it’s coming, she thought. She brought her arms, still bound at the wrist, down over his head, resting them on his shoulders. Leo pushed into her without preamble, without ceremony. Her breath came out in a whoosh and a small cry escaped her. He was in her now, thrusting hard, her body pinned against the wall. He paused momentarily, bringing his hand up to her left breast. He grasped the nipple and affixed a wooden clothespin. He did the same for the other breast. “Thought we’d try a homemade toy,” he mumbled into her warm skin, tugging on the right clothespin. Scully’s breath hissed out as pain, sharp and insistent, coursed through her. “Too much?” He asked. “No, not too much,” Scully answered, her voice gravelly. Liar, she thought to herself. It was always too much, too much, but not enough. “More.” “More?” He asked softly. He idly flicked a finger at the clothespin. It bobbed gently. “Yes, more. Now, Leo, please now God dammit, now...” She was dangerously close to babbling, she thought. Leo obligingly pulled on the clothespin again, harder this time, twisting it harshly as he did so. Scully cried out and her head went back against the rough plaster with a bang. She closed her eyes, giving herself over to animal sensation. ******************** Mulder backed away from the open window. His hands felt unsteady, his stomach queasy and he made his way down the tree as quickly and quietly as possible. Down to the ground. Back to the safety of the car. He slept in the car that night. If he waited long enough, she was bound to come home. His back was killing him – he was much too old for this kind of crap. He had toyed with the idea of crashing on Scully’s couch – after all, she certainly wasn’t using it and he still had a key. But in the end he decided to not risk irritating her with his potentially unwelcome presence in her apartment. Mulder’s stomach was still in knots. He had gone from shock to anger and back again, wearing himself and his emotions out. Tired and not thinking clearly, he had driven to Georgetown to wait for Scully to come home. A sharp rap on the driver’s window startled him. He pushed his body into a sitting position and rolled the window down. “Yeah?” The fresh air and bright morning sun caused him to squint at the lined face that glared at him. “I knew it was you! It’s him, Gert!” The face shouted, splitting Mulder’s eardrum. A fleck of spittle landed on Mulder’s cheek. He could see it out of the corner of his eyes, jiggling slightly in the breeze. Mulder wiped his cheek. Another face appeared. A female version of the first “For God’s sake, Carl, I’m not deaf!” She scrutinized Mulder through narrowed eyes. He felt like an unworthy specimen. Gert finally grunted. “So it is him. Big deal.” “Big deal? What? Are you senile? Every time this one shows up, it’s trouble with a capital ‘T’. Gert shrugged. Annoyed, Carl continued. “Oh, I always knew you had a soft spot for him. ‘So good-looking,’ ‘such a polite young man’,” he mimicked her in falsetto as he waggled his head back and forth. Not a bad imitation, Mulder thought. While Gert and Carl ‘discussed’ things outside his car window, Mulder stretched and scratched at his beard. He had to pee, and he was hungry. He leaned over to the passenger side of the car and pulled the glove compartment open. Ah, just the ticket. Three breakfast bars tumbled out into his waiting hand. Mulder pushed the car door open and edged past Carl and Gert, heading up to Scully’s apartment. He would use her bathroom, then wait for her outside. Her apartment was dark and quiet. The cat was curled into a ball, asleep on the couch. He was tempted to open the blinds and let the morning light in. Looking around at the still familiar interior, Mulder had a hard time reconciling his Scully with this new incarnation – someone out of his reach. Someone he didn’t know and couldn’t fathom. She slipped around in his peripheral vision, an out of focus image he couldn’t get a bead on. Hopelessness and anger – with Scully, and the situation between them – pricked at him. He used the toilet, flushed, and washed up at the sink. Blinking, he studied the face in the mirror. God, he looked like shit. Felt like shit, too. Maybe he was shit. Shit. He dragged his feet out of the bathroom breathing in his surroundings. As he approached the door, the cat lifted his head and turned a yellow-eyed stare on him, blinked once, then returned to his previous position, ignoring Mulder’s presence. cont'd in part 6 feedback to: fran58@WonderHorse.net