Fic - Inatteso, part 1/3
::takes a deep breath:: Okay...here we go....
Inatteso
By Très Méchante
Summary: While searching for a killer, more than the case heats up when two volatile men share close quarters. This is a Criminal Intent/X-Files crossover.
Rating: Mature (definitely Adult)
Warnings: sexuality (slash); language
Spoilers: Nada.
Archive: Not without permission. Please ask.
Disclaimer: Neither the Criminal Intent or X-Files universes are mine. Nor are any of their inhabitants. The characters are merely pawns forced to pander to the demented whims of my muse.
A/N: The story is a Goren/Mulder encounter. I tried for all-out smut, but it seems my muse is a bit of a romantic. Still, it was fun to write. Thank you, h_bomb1013 for introducing me to the Dark Side.
For the purposes of the story, the XF timeline splits off from canon somewhere in season 7. The LOCI timeline simply continues on its merry way as per usual.
Technical Note: I don’t know what cell phone reception is like on the island, but for the sake of this story, let’s all pretend that cell phones work just fine. Pretty please? Thanks.
Inatteso = unexpected (Italian)
===== == ======
“Son of a bitch!”
“Goren…” warned Captain Deakins.
Alex jumped to his defense. “No, he’s right, Captain. This is our case. They’ve got no business butting in.” She began pacing around the office. “We started it and we’ll finish it.”
Deakins leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes briefly. He hated cross-jurisdictional wrangling. A lot.
“Well, for what it’s worth, you’ve got a shot at seeing this through,” he said.
Bobby frowned. “You mean they’ll send us…updates?”
“You’ll get your information first-hand.” Deakins braced for the explosion. “You have both been…appropriated, let’s say, by the F.B.I.”
“The hell?” Alex sat heavily. “What exactly does that mean?”
“It means that you belong to the F.B.I as of today.”
“I think I’d rather just send them the file,” groused Bobby.
Deakins stood up and handed each an envelope. “There are your transfer papers and contact information. You have a meeting scheduled at 8:30 tomorrow morning.” He checked his watch. “You’ve still got a couple of hours to wrap up whatever’s on your desk. We’ll go over what’s left before you leave.”
Bobby and Alex started to protest once more, but Deakins sent them on their way.
That went better than expected, he thought.
----- -- -----
“You do know a jewel heist is not an X-File, right?” Scully asked her partner as they hurried through the airport to catch their flight.
“Ordinarily, I’d agree with you. Although you have to admit, how anyone could hide that much…” he trailed off, sending a teasing glance at the petite redhead beside him. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Ask what makes this an X-File.”
She shrugged. “No, Mulder, I am not going to ask. Every time I do, I regret it.”
“And yet you always ask. Why is that, Scully?”
She refused to look at him - if she did, she’d give in and play his game. But she was still miffed at him. She had been in the middle of one of her favorite secret pleasures when Mulder had phoned, excited as a puppy with a new toy.
Scully barely had time to get dressed before he’d shown up. She flexed her toes in her shoes. She’d only had one set of toes painted, but since she had to rush to get dressed, her pantyhose was now stuck to those toes.
“Aww…Scully…” he whined. “You’re no fun.”
As they boarded their flight to New York City, Mulder was determined to get Scully to ask, and she was equally determined to resist.
----- -- ----
Tensions were running high at 26 Federal Plaza as the F.B.I. and Major Case teams regarded each other warily.
Assistant Director in Charge Morris D. Katt - “The first one to make a crack about the name does wire taps in Ottumwa” - chose to overlook the tension and simply got down to business.
“Eugene Aronovitch, 63, took part in a series of jewel robberies 30 years ago. No one ever did time for them. We had a good idea who was involved, but…” he shrugged.
“Honor among thieves?” asked Bobby.
“I don’t know if honor is the right word,” replied Katt. “The identities were known - or at least suspected - but no one was willing to turn on the others. The only one to do time was Richard Allan Thompson.”
Eames looked up from her set of notes. “You said no one did time for the robberies?”
“No one did. He killed a man during a bar fight in Helena, Montana. He was convicted, sentenced to life in prison.” He looked at Bobby and Alex. “That’s why this case got our attention.”
“You’ve lost me,” Alex replied.
“Thompson’s fingerprints were the ones on the murder weapon.”
“When was he released?” asked Bobby, leaning forward eagerly.
“Twenty-two years ago,” answered Mulder. “He died in a prison fight.”
Bobby stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. “Then…then there is an error in the system somewhere. I-I mean, dead men don’t…commit murder.”
“Actually, it happens a lot more often than you might think,” replied Mulder.
Scully groaned quietly and closed her eyes for a moment, clearly working on her composure.
Alex made a mental note of this. She had a feeling she was looking at a kindred spirit.
Katt referred to the file in front of him. “In the past eight years, members of the gang have been systematically killed. Of six original members, Aronovitch was the last survivor. He approached us about six weeks ago, offering a trade - protection in exchange for the remaining jewels and details of the crimes.”
“He was afraid for his life,” said Bobby.
“Very afraid. And with good reason, as it turns out. He was killed before we could bring him in to complete the deal.”
“Why the delay?” asked Bobby.
“At first, we thought maybe it was a hoax. We needed to check out some details.”
“So now he’s dead and you’ve got nothing,” said Bobby.
“Actually we have a lead on the jewels. We think they’re in Michigan, hidden in a small inn. And no, we can’t execute a search warrant because we might scare off whoever has been guarding them. They could just grab and run.” Katt looked at the four people at the table. “There is, however, an alternate plan - a two-prong approach, as it were.”
The four investigators looked at each other and then back at Katt.
“What I’m proposing is that one team got to Michagan and work on finding the jewels and the accomplice. Unfortunately Aronovitch died before he could give us any details, so it could be anyone.” He leaned forward. “The other team remains here and investigates Aronovitch’s death. I do not for one moment believe that a dead man killed him.”
Mulder started to speak but then flinched. He shot a reproachful look at his partner as he reached down to rub his shin. “Okay. Uh, who stays and who goes?”
“Reservations have already been arranged at the inn. Starting this weekend there is a week-long retreat for couples - communications, togetherness, spa, that kind of thing.” Katt smiled. “The couple assigned to the inn will be expected to take part in the sessions, so investigating the staff will have to be done with…discretion.”
No one said anything.
“So, Agent Scully, Detective Eames, you will remain in New York and continue the investigation here. Detective, you already have a handle on the case and it’s your city after all. I have arranged work space for both of you and access to whatever resources you need.”
Mulder and Bobby looked at one another then quickly looked away.
Mulder cleared his throat. “You said it’s a couple’s retreat. Are you saying …?”
“I’m saying that this particular retreat is for gay couples. You and Detective Goren will be going as a couple in need of some help with your relationship - are you okay Detective Eames?” He asked Alex, who suddenly began to cough.
Alex choked on her coffee. “Fine,” she wheezed. “Just went down the wrong way.” She could see Scully was also struggling not to laugh.
“As I was saying, arrangements have been made for you to attend the retreat. It is our belief that someone on staff knows where the jewels are, and will likely kill to protect them. So watch yourselves.” Katt sorted through the papers in front of him and selected a couple of envelopes, which he handed to Mulder and Bobby. “This is background on the inn’s staff, your travel information and a copy of the retreat schedule. Let’s get to work.”
Alex and Scully gathered their things and followed Katt to their desks. Bobby and Mulder followed more slowly, studying the contents of their envelopes.
“I guess I better get packed,” said Bobby, exiting the elevator. “Meet you at the airport?”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Mulder. As he walked past Bobby, he leaned in and whispered, “See you soon - shmoopy.” With a huge grin at Bobby’s startled look, he hurried out the door.
----- -- ----
Bobby gripped the railing as the boat began maneuvering away from the dock. Eyes shielded by sunglasses, he looked over the stretch of water toward their destination: Mackinac Island.
The flight to Detroit had been uneventful. They had spent the time reading over reports and occasionally making small talk. Back on the ground they rented a car and drove north to St. Ignace, where they caught the ferry to their island retreat. The car trip was spent going over their cover story and reviewing details of the inn’s employees.
Glancing around, he spotted Mulder leaning back against the railing, eyes closed and face raised to the rushing wind. Bobby sighed. Such a strange man. This was going to be an interesting week. He returned his gaze to the water and concentrated on the details of the case.
Mulder enjoyed the cool wind against his face. It helped clear away the cobwebs. He knew Goren had been watching him, could feel that piercing stare even from this distance. Such a strange man, he thought. This was going to be a bizarre week - if he was lucky.
“I wonder what it is about the brooding ones,” commented a voice beside Mulder. He opened his eyes and glanced at the speaker. A moment later he tilted his head to look over his sunglasses.
Two words immediately came to mind: flaming queer. The man seemed to embody every homosexual stereotype Mulder had ever heard, from the lisp to the clothes and mannerisms - limp wrist and all. He felt the first stirrings of doubt. What the hell had they gotten into?
His new friend continued chatting away. “He’s just so…so…Heathcliff, isn’t he? I’ve got one of those, too. So deliciously intense. Oh, I’m Kevin, by the way,” he added, tilting his head to peer at Mulder through his long eyelashes.
“Hi. Mulder.”
“Such an interesting name.” Kevin glanced over at the man across the deck from them; the man who now watched them. “What about him?”
“What about him?” asked Mulder.
Kevin’s eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I thought the two of you…How embarrassing.”
Mulder couldn’t help but grin. “His name’s Bobby. And yeah, he does the whole brooding thing very well.”
“Oh, you. That was mean,” laughed Kevin, lightly swatting Mulder’s arm. “You know, when I first saw you, I just knew we were kindred spirits. My Anthony is kind of like your Bobby. But that’s just for show. He’s really a pussycat - but don't tell anyone I said so, okay?”
“His secret is safe with me,” he assured Kevin.
Kevin’s eye widened suddenly. “Oh shit - pardon my French.”
Mulder turned to see at what Kevin was looking at and saw a dark-haired man in the doorway to the cabin. The man scowled at them and retreated inside.
“I’m guessing that’s Anthony,” said Mulder.
Kevin sighed. “Yeah. God, I know that look. It means he thinks I’ve been flirting with you.”
“You mean you haven’t been?”
“Well, maybe a bit. But you know what they say, Mulder. Flirting is merely attention without intention.” He looked a little wistful for a moment. “Everyone needs to feel special now and then.”
“I suppose so.” Mulder watched Bobby watch them.
“I better go reassure him.” He turned to go, but stopped and looked back. “If it’s not too personal a question, are you guys here for the couple’s retreat?”
Mulder smiled as Bobby walked toward them. “We have some things to sort out.”
“Don’t we all.”
Bobby leaned against the railing beside Mulder and watched Kevin saunter away. “Friend of yours?”
“At the moment, he’s friendlier than my significant other,” he retorted. “You know if we’re going to make this work…ah hell. Just try not to freeze up, okay?”
“We don’t have to be…joined at the hip for this. Just tell everyone I have issues with PDAs. That’ll explain why we aren’t so…overtly affectionate.” Bobby straightened up and began walking toward the cabin. “We’re there. Let’s get our stuff. The inn is supposed to send someone to meet us.”
Mulder sighed. It was going to be a long week. Maybe they’d find what they were looking for today. Yeah right, scoffed a little voice inside. And maybe the United States government would publish a tell-all book detailing every conspiracy and cover-up ever perpetrated.
===== == ======
The light jazz music playing in the background was up-tempo, but not intrusive. Bobby absently tapped his fingers in time to the music. He leaned against the bar and watched the crowd.
Participants had been arriving throughout the day - each couple had their own horse-drawn carriage to ferry them from the dock to the inn on the far side of the island. The pre-dinner meet-and-greet was going well. Once the initial welcome speeches were over, the doors of the lounge were thrown open and everyone was encouraged to get to know one another.
The group was a mix of professions - including tax accountants, attorneys, a stockbroker, and a couple of designers - and a variety of age ranges. Bobby and Mulder were somewhere in the middle, by no means the oldest, but certainly not the youngest, either.
As per their roles, Bobby was cordial but aloof, chatting briefly with the other guests, but withdrawing every so often to a quiet corner. This gave him the opportunity to observe both the retreat participants and the staff.
Mulder, on the other hand, was charming and outgoing. He moved from one group to another, engaging everyone in light banter, seeming without a care in the world. This allowed him to get a sense of the group dynamics.
“Social butterfly,” muttered Bobby, watching Mulder’s progress.
“And don’t we just love them for it?”
He looked at the man beside him. “Anthony, right?”
“Yeah. Not much of a mixer, huh?”
Bobby merely shrugged.
Anthony nodded. “Me neither. But Kev loves it.”
Both men looked over toward Kevin, who appeared to be holding court. Everyone was smiling or laughing at something he said.
Mulder wandered over to join Kevin’s entourage. He glanced at Bobby and winked at him before turning back to the group.
“Those two are just like peas in a pod,” commented Anthony. “Except your boy’s a little less flashy.”
A bell rang, and one of the hosts called everyone to go to the dining room.
Anthony tossed back the last of his drink and clapped Bobby on the shoulder. “C’mon, Bobby. Let’s go collect our fairy princesses.”
Bobby choked on his drink.
----- -- -----
Mulder awakened to find light from the sitting room leaking into the bedroom through the curtain that separated the two rooms. At first, he was not sure where he was, but as memory returned he looked for his bed mate and discovered Bobby was missing.
He and Bobby had been up late going over their files, making notes based on having met the staff members. When they called it a night, there had been a few awkward minutes as they adjusted to sharing the bed. The first major hurdle had been deciding who slept on which side - they both preferred the middle. Eventually they fell asleep.
Mulder sighed and got out of bed, glancing at the alarm clock - 4:53 a.m. “For godsake would you turn out the light and come back to bed?” he called out in a sleepy voice as he wandered toward the sitting room.
“Sorry,” Bobby said quietly. The light was dimmed and the only sound was the rustling of papers.
Mulder hitched up his pajama bottoms and tugged down his t-shirt as he entered the sitting area. He found Bobby was sitting on the floor with papers spread out around him. He had a pad of paper propped against his knee and he made notes while flipping through a file.
“Geez, how long have you been up?” asked Mulder.
“Huh? Oh, I-I don’t really sleep much,” Bobby replied. “Besides, I wanted to…double check a few things.”
Mulder went to the bar fridge and pulled out two juice bottles. He wandered over to Bobby, gingerly stepping around the papers and handed the other man one of the bottles.
“Thanks,” said Bobby absently, his attention already returning to his notes.
Mulder flopped down into the leather side chair, one leg casually draped over one of the chair arms. He sipped his juice and waited for Bobby to say something.
The silence was broken only by the occasional sound of papers rustling and Bobby muttering under his breath. Mulder used the time to simply observe his temporary partner. He quickly came to the conclusion that, while Bobby looked totally relaxed lounging on the floor amidst all the papers, it was in fact an illusion. He had the distinct feeling that Bobby was, on some level, braced for an attack.
“So, what was so important that you had to get up in the middle of the night to check it out?” asked Mulder.
Bobby glanced at his watch. “It’s 5:16, hardly the middle of the night. For some people this is their normal wake up time.”
Mulder refused to back down. “Yeah, but you’ve obviously been up for a while. What gives?”
Bobby fished amongst the scattered papers and handed Mulder a file. “This is the transcript from the last interview with Aronovitch.” He shifted closer to Mulder, sitting at his feet as he pointed out a few items. “Here - there’s a repetition, almost a-a pattern repeated throughout the interview. I think…I think it was his way of telling them where the treasure is.”
“Oh, so we’re looking for treasure, are we?” Mulder grinned at him, idly noting how comfortable Bobby looked sitting at his feet, his face alight with excitement as he began explaining his theory.
“Read this part,” Bobby said. “And here…and back here, I marked the section.”
Mulder flipped through the transcript, reading the sections Bobby had marked. “Where time passes and yet stands still… What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“That’s where the jewels are hidden.” Bobby grinned.
“Assuming they’re here.”
“Assuming they’re here,” agreed Bobby. He pulled a blueprint of the inn closer. “What did you notice on our brief tour this afternoon?”
Mulder slipped from the chair and joined Bobby on the floor, pulling the blueprint across his lap. “You mean other than it’s a charming inn filled with a delightful blend of genuine antiques and skillful reproductions strategically blended to create an old world ambiance while cleverly disguising the ultramodern amenities?”
Bobby stared at Mulder for a moment before bursting into startled laughter. “What the hell was that?”
“My new friend Kevin is a wealth of information,” he chuckled. “He’s a designer specializing in the hospitality industry. And he’s much in demand - or so he claims.”
“Right. So…uh…did Kevin offer any other observations,” asked Bobby.
“Yes, but I don’t think you want to hear them - and don’t ask ‘cause I’m not telling.” Mulder enjoyed the frustrated curiosity burning in Bobby’s eyes. “However, I did notice that two areas are off limits.”
After quickly scanning the blueprints, he pointed to the basement entry off the kitchen and the attic door.
Bobby nodded. “Right. Now according to Milo - he’s the chef - the root cellar is original to the building. The stairs are pretty rickety so there’s nothing down there except the boiler. The manager said the attic hasn’t been touched in years. Renovations are budgeted for next year. So…”
“So, those are two areas where time stands still.”
“Exactly! Everything else has been renovated.”
“Have you considered any alternatives to that theory?”
“Such as?”
Mulder tried to rein in his grin. “Such as…well, maybe the jewels are hidden in a stopped clock. There are quite a few grandfather type clocks scattered around.”
“And they all keep perfect time.” He grinned sheepishly at Mulder’s skeptical look. “I…went for a-a walk earlier and, uh, checked.”
“Ah. Well, then that would certainly open up the door to my personal favorite.”
Bobby studied the other man, noting the glint of challenge dancing in his hazel eyes. He rested his arms across upraised knees, hesitated and said, “Okay, I’ll bite.”
“Promise?” asked Mulder with a cheeky grin.
Whatever Bobby might have said was cut off by the ringing of a cell phone. Both men scrambled to find their phones.
It was Bobby’s cell phone. He answered without checking the display. “Morning, Eames. You’re up early.”
Mulder was surprised at the change in Bobby’s voice. There was a softness that had not been there earlier and he wondered if there was something going on between the two partners. He listened briefly then left the room. If there was something going on, he’d give them a bit of privacy.
Wandering into the bedroom, Mulder perched on the side of the bed. He absently turned his cell phone in his hands, wondering what Scully would say if he were to phone her at that moment. He could almost hear her slightly grumpy “Mulder, do you have any idea what time it is?” God, he missed her.
“Richard Thompson had a regular visitor before he died.”
Mulder looked up as Bobby entered the room. He set his cell phone aside and straightened up, suddenly all business.
“Eames said that a woman made several visits to Thompson over the last 3 months of his life. She’ll call when they know more.”
“Not too many women around here,” commented Mulder. “Just the manager and the housekeeper - both are old enough to have been visiting a prison all those year ago.”
“On the other hand, it’s entirely possible that it’s not someone here. It could be…”
The alarm clock rang, startling both men.
Bobby reached over and shut the alarm off. “You go ahead,” he said, indicating the shower.
Mulder walked to the bathroom, but paused at the door. “We could share, you know.”
His commented was greeted by a snort as Bobby flopped back on the bed. “In your dreams, Fox.”
“That’s Mulder to you,” he said, slamming the door shut behind him.
Bobby grinned and closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d shared personal space with someone. He’d forgotten how exhausting it could be.
¬----- -- -----
Mulder studied the page in front of him, several possibilities running through his mind. With a glance at Bobby, he wrote ‘L’.
Bobby smirked and added an arm to the hanging stick figure.
The session on communication and interpersonal relationships proved to be boring in the extreme. In the end, they were reduced to playing hangman in order to stay awake.
It was mid-afternoon before they had a chance to explore the inn and grounds. They were on a break from the sessions, where everyone was encouraged to get out and explore the area. While participants either retired to their rooms or headed to town, Mulder and Bobby made their way to the back of the inn.
While Mulder kept watch, Bobby jimmied the lock on the storm cellar door, which led to the basement area.
“You’re pretty good at that,” said Mulder. “Get a lot of practice, do you?”
Bobby grinned. “I’ve been known to misplace my keys,” he said as he swung open the door. “After you.”
“Ever the gentleman,” said Mulder, turning on his flashlight as he entered the basement.
A thorough search of the basement turned up several boxes of old fashion magazines, a broken side table, three side chairs with shredded upholstery, and a dead mouse.
Exiting the basement, they quickly scanned the area, but appeared to be alone. Bobby relocked the door behind them.
They took a meandering route through the woods before returning to the inn to wash up before dinner. Making their way to the dining room, they met up with Kevin and Anthony.
“Where did you two disappear to?” asked Kevin. “And what were you doing?”
Anthony glared at his partner. “Mind your own business. Not everyone has to announce their lives to the world, you know.”
Kevin huffed and walked away to talk to another couple.
“Sorry about that,” said Anthony.
Bobby shrugged. “No problem. No offense taken.”
Anthony nodded. “I better go before he gets into trouble.”
Mulder frowned as he watched the interaction between Kevin and Anthony. “I hope this retreat does them some good. I’d hate to see them break up.”
“Fox Mulder, closet romantic. Who’d a guessed?”
“Funny guy. It’s just…they seem to complement each other, you know? It’d be a shame if they didn’t make it, that’s all.” Mulder decided to change the subject. “So. Have you heard what the evening session is supposed to be?”
“The main board still lists TBA. If it’s another round of interpersonal communication I may have to arrest that speaker,” grumbled Bobby. “God, that’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back.”
They amused themselves over dinner by profiling some of the other couples, and a few of the presenters.
Entering the main drawing room that evening, they paused at the doorway, shocked at the room’s transformation.
All the furniture had been moved to one side of the room. The lights were low and candles flickered around the room. On the floor were exercise mats, blankets and pillows.
“This doesn’t look good,” muttered Mulder, glancing at Bobby.
His misgivings were echoed by several others as they entered the room.
A short, slender man called everyone to the center of the room. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Dr. Aaron Taylor - but please call me Aaron. I am a sex therapist. Tonight, and every night for the duration of the retreat, we will work to heal the more physically intimate aspects of your relationship.”
Someone grumbled that there was nothing wrong with their sex life.
“That’s exactly my point,” said Aaron. “Sex is fine, but it’s a physical activity and does not necessarily involve the heart. So, gentlemen, welcome to what I like to call ‘Putting the Love Back in Lovemaking.’ And this is a very hands-on workshop.”
Several people shifted uncomfortably.
Aaron had everyone settle on the exercise mats with their partners.
Bobby and Mulder awkwardly sat next to each other. This was more than they had bargained for. They did not look at one another, instead focusing on Aaron, who explained he would lead them through some simple touching exercises to start off.
“Turn to face your partners,” he said, dimming the lights even more. “I know this is a little embarrassing for some of you, but I assure you I haven’t lost a couple yet. We’ll keep the lights low so you can focus on your partners and just ignore everyone else. Now then, let’s get started.”
~~~ to be continued ~~~
Go to Part 2
Inatteso
By Très Méchante
Summary: While searching for a killer, more than the case heats up when two volatile men share close quarters. This is a Criminal Intent/X-Files crossover.
Rating: Mature (definitely Adult)
Warnings: sexuality (slash); language
Spoilers: Nada.
Archive: Not without permission. Please ask.
Disclaimer: Neither the Criminal Intent or X-Files universes are mine. Nor are any of their inhabitants. The characters are merely pawns forced to pander to the demented whims of my muse.
A/N: The story is a Goren/Mulder encounter. I tried for all-out smut, but it seems my muse is a bit of a romantic. Still, it was fun to write. Thank you, h_bomb1013 for introducing me to the Dark Side.
For the purposes of the story, the XF timeline splits off from canon somewhere in season 7. The LOCI timeline simply continues on its merry way as per usual.
Technical Note: I don’t know what cell phone reception is like on the island, but for the sake of this story, let’s all pretend that cell phones work just fine. Pretty please? Thanks.
Inatteso = unexpected (Italian)
===== == ======
“Son of a bitch!”
“Goren…” warned Captain Deakins.
Alex jumped to his defense. “No, he’s right, Captain. This is our case. They’ve got no business butting in.” She began pacing around the office. “We started it and we’ll finish it.”
Deakins leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes briefly. He hated cross-jurisdictional wrangling. A lot.
“Well, for what it’s worth, you’ve got a shot at seeing this through,” he said.
Bobby frowned. “You mean they’ll send us…updates?”
“You’ll get your information first-hand.” Deakins braced for the explosion. “You have both been…appropriated, let’s say, by the F.B.I.”
“The hell?” Alex sat heavily. “What exactly does that mean?”
“It means that you belong to the F.B.I as of today.”
“I think I’d rather just send them the file,” groused Bobby.
Deakins stood up and handed each an envelope. “There are your transfer papers and contact information. You have a meeting scheduled at 8:30 tomorrow morning.” He checked his watch. “You’ve still got a couple of hours to wrap up whatever’s on your desk. We’ll go over what’s left before you leave.”
Bobby and Alex started to protest once more, but Deakins sent them on their way.
That went better than expected, he thought.
----- -- -----
“You do know a jewel heist is not an X-File, right?” Scully asked her partner as they hurried through the airport to catch their flight.
“Ordinarily, I’d agree with you. Although you have to admit, how anyone could hide that much…” he trailed off, sending a teasing glance at the petite redhead beside him. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Ask what makes this an X-File.”
She shrugged. “No, Mulder, I am not going to ask. Every time I do, I regret it.”
“And yet you always ask. Why is that, Scully?”
She refused to look at him - if she did, she’d give in and play his game. But she was still miffed at him. She had been in the middle of one of her favorite secret pleasures when Mulder had phoned, excited as a puppy with a new toy.
Scully barely had time to get dressed before he’d shown up. She flexed her toes in her shoes. She’d only had one set of toes painted, but since she had to rush to get dressed, her pantyhose was now stuck to those toes.
“Aww…Scully…” he whined. “You’re no fun.”
As they boarded their flight to New York City, Mulder was determined to get Scully to ask, and she was equally determined to resist.
----- -- ----
Tensions were running high at 26 Federal Plaza as the F.B.I. and Major Case teams regarded each other warily.
Assistant Director in Charge Morris D. Katt - “The first one to make a crack about the name does wire taps in Ottumwa” - chose to overlook the tension and simply got down to business.
“Eugene Aronovitch, 63, took part in a series of jewel robberies 30 years ago. No one ever did time for them. We had a good idea who was involved, but…” he shrugged.
“Honor among thieves?” asked Bobby.
“I don’t know if honor is the right word,” replied Katt. “The identities were known - or at least suspected - but no one was willing to turn on the others. The only one to do time was Richard Allan Thompson.”
Eames looked up from her set of notes. “You said no one did time for the robberies?”
“No one did. He killed a man during a bar fight in Helena, Montana. He was convicted, sentenced to life in prison.” He looked at Bobby and Alex. “That’s why this case got our attention.”
“You’ve lost me,” Alex replied.
“Thompson’s fingerprints were the ones on the murder weapon.”
“When was he released?” asked Bobby, leaning forward eagerly.
“Twenty-two years ago,” answered Mulder. “He died in a prison fight.”
Bobby stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. “Then…then there is an error in the system somewhere. I-I mean, dead men don’t…commit murder.”
“Actually, it happens a lot more often than you might think,” replied Mulder.
Scully groaned quietly and closed her eyes for a moment, clearly working on her composure.
Alex made a mental note of this. She had a feeling she was looking at a kindred spirit.
Katt referred to the file in front of him. “In the past eight years, members of the gang have been systematically killed. Of six original members, Aronovitch was the last survivor. He approached us about six weeks ago, offering a trade - protection in exchange for the remaining jewels and details of the crimes.”
“He was afraid for his life,” said Bobby.
“Very afraid. And with good reason, as it turns out. He was killed before we could bring him in to complete the deal.”
“Why the delay?” asked Bobby.
“At first, we thought maybe it was a hoax. We needed to check out some details.”
“So now he’s dead and you’ve got nothing,” said Bobby.
“Actually we have a lead on the jewels. We think they’re in Michigan, hidden in a small inn. And no, we can’t execute a search warrant because we might scare off whoever has been guarding them. They could just grab and run.” Katt looked at the four people at the table. “There is, however, an alternate plan - a two-prong approach, as it were.”
The four investigators looked at each other and then back at Katt.
“What I’m proposing is that one team got to Michagan and work on finding the jewels and the accomplice. Unfortunately Aronovitch died before he could give us any details, so it could be anyone.” He leaned forward. “The other team remains here and investigates Aronovitch’s death. I do not for one moment believe that a dead man killed him.”
Mulder started to speak but then flinched. He shot a reproachful look at his partner as he reached down to rub his shin. “Okay. Uh, who stays and who goes?”
“Reservations have already been arranged at the inn. Starting this weekend there is a week-long retreat for couples - communications, togetherness, spa, that kind of thing.” Katt smiled. “The couple assigned to the inn will be expected to take part in the sessions, so investigating the staff will have to be done with…discretion.”
No one said anything.
“So, Agent Scully, Detective Eames, you will remain in New York and continue the investigation here. Detective, you already have a handle on the case and it’s your city after all. I have arranged work space for both of you and access to whatever resources you need.”
Mulder and Bobby looked at one another then quickly looked away.
Mulder cleared his throat. “You said it’s a couple’s retreat. Are you saying …?”
“I’m saying that this particular retreat is for gay couples. You and Detective Goren will be going as a couple in need of some help with your relationship - are you okay Detective Eames?” He asked Alex, who suddenly began to cough.
Alex choked on her coffee. “Fine,” she wheezed. “Just went down the wrong way.” She could see Scully was also struggling not to laugh.
“As I was saying, arrangements have been made for you to attend the retreat. It is our belief that someone on staff knows where the jewels are, and will likely kill to protect them. So watch yourselves.” Katt sorted through the papers in front of him and selected a couple of envelopes, which he handed to Mulder and Bobby. “This is background on the inn’s staff, your travel information and a copy of the retreat schedule. Let’s get to work.”
Alex and Scully gathered their things and followed Katt to their desks. Bobby and Mulder followed more slowly, studying the contents of their envelopes.
“I guess I better get packed,” said Bobby, exiting the elevator. “Meet you at the airport?”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Mulder. As he walked past Bobby, he leaned in and whispered, “See you soon - shmoopy.” With a huge grin at Bobby’s startled look, he hurried out the door.
----- -- ----
Bobby gripped the railing as the boat began maneuvering away from the dock. Eyes shielded by sunglasses, he looked over the stretch of water toward their destination: Mackinac Island.
The flight to Detroit had been uneventful. They had spent the time reading over reports and occasionally making small talk. Back on the ground they rented a car and drove north to St. Ignace, where they caught the ferry to their island retreat. The car trip was spent going over their cover story and reviewing details of the inn’s employees.
Glancing around, he spotted Mulder leaning back against the railing, eyes closed and face raised to the rushing wind. Bobby sighed. Such a strange man. This was going to be an interesting week. He returned his gaze to the water and concentrated on the details of the case.
Mulder enjoyed the cool wind against his face. It helped clear away the cobwebs. He knew Goren had been watching him, could feel that piercing stare even from this distance. Such a strange man, he thought. This was going to be a bizarre week - if he was lucky.
“I wonder what it is about the brooding ones,” commented a voice beside Mulder. He opened his eyes and glanced at the speaker. A moment later he tilted his head to look over his sunglasses.
Two words immediately came to mind: flaming queer. The man seemed to embody every homosexual stereotype Mulder had ever heard, from the lisp to the clothes and mannerisms - limp wrist and all. He felt the first stirrings of doubt. What the hell had they gotten into?
His new friend continued chatting away. “He’s just so…so…Heathcliff, isn’t he? I’ve got one of those, too. So deliciously intense. Oh, I’m Kevin, by the way,” he added, tilting his head to peer at Mulder through his long eyelashes.
“Hi. Mulder.”
“Such an interesting name.” Kevin glanced over at the man across the deck from them; the man who now watched them. “What about him?”
“What about him?” asked Mulder.
Kevin’s eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I thought the two of you…How embarrassing.”
Mulder couldn’t help but grin. “His name’s Bobby. And yeah, he does the whole brooding thing very well.”
“Oh, you. That was mean,” laughed Kevin, lightly swatting Mulder’s arm. “You know, when I first saw you, I just knew we were kindred spirits. My Anthony is kind of like your Bobby. But that’s just for show. He’s really a pussycat - but don't tell anyone I said so, okay?”
“His secret is safe with me,” he assured Kevin.
Kevin’s eye widened suddenly. “Oh shit - pardon my French.”
Mulder turned to see at what Kevin was looking at and saw a dark-haired man in the doorway to the cabin. The man scowled at them and retreated inside.
“I’m guessing that’s Anthony,” said Mulder.
Kevin sighed. “Yeah. God, I know that look. It means he thinks I’ve been flirting with you.”
“You mean you haven’t been?”
“Well, maybe a bit. But you know what they say, Mulder. Flirting is merely attention without intention.” He looked a little wistful for a moment. “Everyone needs to feel special now and then.”
“I suppose so.” Mulder watched Bobby watch them.
“I better go reassure him.” He turned to go, but stopped and looked back. “If it’s not too personal a question, are you guys here for the couple’s retreat?”
Mulder smiled as Bobby walked toward them. “We have some things to sort out.”
“Don’t we all.”
Bobby leaned against the railing beside Mulder and watched Kevin saunter away. “Friend of yours?”
“At the moment, he’s friendlier than my significant other,” he retorted. “You know if we’re going to make this work…ah hell. Just try not to freeze up, okay?”
“We don’t have to be…joined at the hip for this. Just tell everyone I have issues with PDAs. That’ll explain why we aren’t so…overtly affectionate.” Bobby straightened up and began walking toward the cabin. “We’re there. Let’s get our stuff. The inn is supposed to send someone to meet us.”
Mulder sighed. It was going to be a long week. Maybe they’d find what they were looking for today. Yeah right, scoffed a little voice inside. And maybe the United States government would publish a tell-all book detailing every conspiracy and cover-up ever perpetrated.
===== == ======
The light jazz music playing in the background was up-tempo, but not intrusive. Bobby absently tapped his fingers in time to the music. He leaned against the bar and watched the crowd.
Participants had been arriving throughout the day - each couple had their own horse-drawn carriage to ferry them from the dock to the inn on the far side of the island. The pre-dinner meet-and-greet was going well. Once the initial welcome speeches were over, the doors of the lounge were thrown open and everyone was encouraged to get to know one another.
The group was a mix of professions - including tax accountants, attorneys, a stockbroker, and a couple of designers - and a variety of age ranges. Bobby and Mulder were somewhere in the middle, by no means the oldest, but certainly not the youngest, either.
As per their roles, Bobby was cordial but aloof, chatting briefly with the other guests, but withdrawing every so often to a quiet corner. This gave him the opportunity to observe both the retreat participants and the staff.
Mulder, on the other hand, was charming and outgoing. He moved from one group to another, engaging everyone in light banter, seeming without a care in the world. This allowed him to get a sense of the group dynamics.
“Social butterfly,” muttered Bobby, watching Mulder’s progress.
“And don’t we just love them for it?”
He looked at the man beside him. “Anthony, right?”
“Yeah. Not much of a mixer, huh?”
Bobby merely shrugged.
Anthony nodded. “Me neither. But Kev loves it.”
Both men looked over toward Kevin, who appeared to be holding court. Everyone was smiling or laughing at something he said.
Mulder wandered over to join Kevin’s entourage. He glanced at Bobby and winked at him before turning back to the group.
“Those two are just like peas in a pod,” commented Anthony. “Except your boy’s a little less flashy.”
A bell rang, and one of the hosts called everyone to go to the dining room.
Anthony tossed back the last of his drink and clapped Bobby on the shoulder. “C’mon, Bobby. Let’s go collect our fairy princesses.”
Bobby choked on his drink.
----- -- -----
Mulder awakened to find light from the sitting room leaking into the bedroom through the curtain that separated the two rooms. At first, he was not sure where he was, but as memory returned he looked for his bed mate and discovered Bobby was missing.
He and Bobby had been up late going over their files, making notes based on having met the staff members. When they called it a night, there had been a few awkward minutes as they adjusted to sharing the bed. The first major hurdle had been deciding who slept on which side - they both preferred the middle. Eventually they fell asleep.
Mulder sighed and got out of bed, glancing at the alarm clock - 4:53 a.m. “For godsake would you turn out the light and come back to bed?” he called out in a sleepy voice as he wandered toward the sitting room.
“Sorry,” Bobby said quietly. The light was dimmed and the only sound was the rustling of papers.
Mulder hitched up his pajama bottoms and tugged down his t-shirt as he entered the sitting area. He found Bobby was sitting on the floor with papers spread out around him. He had a pad of paper propped against his knee and he made notes while flipping through a file.
“Geez, how long have you been up?” asked Mulder.
“Huh? Oh, I-I don’t really sleep much,” Bobby replied. “Besides, I wanted to…double check a few things.”
Mulder went to the bar fridge and pulled out two juice bottles. He wandered over to Bobby, gingerly stepping around the papers and handed the other man one of the bottles.
“Thanks,” said Bobby absently, his attention already returning to his notes.
Mulder flopped down into the leather side chair, one leg casually draped over one of the chair arms. He sipped his juice and waited for Bobby to say something.
The silence was broken only by the occasional sound of papers rustling and Bobby muttering under his breath. Mulder used the time to simply observe his temporary partner. He quickly came to the conclusion that, while Bobby looked totally relaxed lounging on the floor amidst all the papers, it was in fact an illusion. He had the distinct feeling that Bobby was, on some level, braced for an attack.
“So, what was so important that you had to get up in the middle of the night to check it out?” asked Mulder.
Bobby glanced at his watch. “It’s 5:16, hardly the middle of the night. For some people this is their normal wake up time.”
Mulder refused to back down. “Yeah, but you’ve obviously been up for a while. What gives?”
Bobby fished amongst the scattered papers and handed Mulder a file. “This is the transcript from the last interview with Aronovitch.” He shifted closer to Mulder, sitting at his feet as he pointed out a few items. “Here - there’s a repetition, almost a-a pattern repeated throughout the interview. I think…I think it was his way of telling them where the treasure is.”
“Oh, so we’re looking for treasure, are we?” Mulder grinned at him, idly noting how comfortable Bobby looked sitting at his feet, his face alight with excitement as he began explaining his theory.
“Read this part,” Bobby said. “And here…and back here, I marked the section.”
Mulder flipped through the transcript, reading the sections Bobby had marked. “Where time passes and yet stands still… What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“That’s where the jewels are hidden.” Bobby grinned.
“Assuming they’re here.”
“Assuming they’re here,” agreed Bobby. He pulled a blueprint of the inn closer. “What did you notice on our brief tour this afternoon?”
Mulder slipped from the chair and joined Bobby on the floor, pulling the blueprint across his lap. “You mean other than it’s a charming inn filled with a delightful blend of genuine antiques and skillful reproductions strategically blended to create an old world ambiance while cleverly disguising the ultramodern amenities?”
Bobby stared at Mulder for a moment before bursting into startled laughter. “What the hell was that?”
“My new friend Kevin is a wealth of information,” he chuckled. “He’s a designer specializing in the hospitality industry. And he’s much in demand - or so he claims.”
“Right. So…uh…did Kevin offer any other observations,” asked Bobby.
“Yes, but I don’t think you want to hear them - and don’t ask ‘cause I’m not telling.” Mulder enjoyed the frustrated curiosity burning in Bobby’s eyes. “However, I did notice that two areas are off limits.”
After quickly scanning the blueprints, he pointed to the basement entry off the kitchen and the attic door.
Bobby nodded. “Right. Now according to Milo - he’s the chef - the root cellar is original to the building. The stairs are pretty rickety so there’s nothing down there except the boiler. The manager said the attic hasn’t been touched in years. Renovations are budgeted for next year. So…”
“So, those are two areas where time stands still.”
“Exactly! Everything else has been renovated.”
“Have you considered any alternatives to that theory?”
“Such as?”
Mulder tried to rein in his grin. “Such as…well, maybe the jewels are hidden in a stopped clock. There are quite a few grandfather type clocks scattered around.”
“And they all keep perfect time.” He grinned sheepishly at Mulder’s skeptical look. “I…went for a-a walk earlier and, uh, checked.”
“Ah. Well, then that would certainly open up the door to my personal favorite.”
Bobby studied the other man, noting the glint of challenge dancing in his hazel eyes. He rested his arms across upraised knees, hesitated and said, “Okay, I’ll bite.”
“Promise?” asked Mulder with a cheeky grin.
Whatever Bobby might have said was cut off by the ringing of a cell phone. Both men scrambled to find their phones.
It was Bobby’s cell phone. He answered without checking the display. “Morning, Eames. You’re up early.”
Mulder was surprised at the change in Bobby’s voice. There was a softness that had not been there earlier and he wondered if there was something going on between the two partners. He listened briefly then left the room. If there was something going on, he’d give them a bit of privacy.
Wandering into the bedroom, Mulder perched on the side of the bed. He absently turned his cell phone in his hands, wondering what Scully would say if he were to phone her at that moment. He could almost hear her slightly grumpy “Mulder, do you have any idea what time it is?” God, he missed her.
“Richard Thompson had a regular visitor before he died.”
Mulder looked up as Bobby entered the room. He set his cell phone aside and straightened up, suddenly all business.
“Eames said that a woman made several visits to Thompson over the last 3 months of his life. She’ll call when they know more.”
“Not too many women around here,” commented Mulder. “Just the manager and the housekeeper - both are old enough to have been visiting a prison all those year ago.”
“On the other hand, it’s entirely possible that it’s not someone here. It could be…”
The alarm clock rang, startling both men.
Bobby reached over and shut the alarm off. “You go ahead,” he said, indicating the shower.
Mulder walked to the bathroom, but paused at the door. “We could share, you know.”
His commented was greeted by a snort as Bobby flopped back on the bed. “In your dreams, Fox.”
“That’s Mulder to you,” he said, slamming the door shut behind him.
Bobby grinned and closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d shared personal space with someone. He’d forgotten how exhausting it could be.
¬----- -- -----
Mulder studied the page in front of him, several possibilities running through his mind. With a glance at Bobby, he wrote ‘L’.
Bobby smirked and added an arm to the hanging stick figure.
The session on communication and interpersonal relationships proved to be boring in the extreme. In the end, they were reduced to playing hangman in order to stay awake.
It was mid-afternoon before they had a chance to explore the inn and grounds. They were on a break from the sessions, where everyone was encouraged to get out and explore the area. While participants either retired to their rooms or headed to town, Mulder and Bobby made their way to the back of the inn.
While Mulder kept watch, Bobby jimmied the lock on the storm cellar door, which led to the basement area.
“You’re pretty good at that,” said Mulder. “Get a lot of practice, do you?”
Bobby grinned. “I’ve been known to misplace my keys,” he said as he swung open the door. “After you.”
“Ever the gentleman,” said Mulder, turning on his flashlight as he entered the basement.
A thorough search of the basement turned up several boxes of old fashion magazines, a broken side table, three side chairs with shredded upholstery, and a dead mouse.
Exiting the basement, they quickly scanned the area, but appeared to be alone. Bobby relocked the door behind them.
They took a meandering route through the woods before returning to the inn to wash up before dinner. Making their way to the dining room, they met up with Kevin and Anthony.
“Where did you two disappear to?” asked Kevin. “And what were you doing?”
Anthony glared at his partner. “Mind your own business. Not everyone has to announce their lives to the world, you know.”
Kevin huffed and walked away to talk to another couple.
“Sorry about that,” said Anthony.
Bobby shrugged. “No problem. No offense taken.”
Anthony nodded. “I better go before he gets into trouble.”
Mulder frowned as he watched the interaction between Kevin and Anthony. “I hope this retreat does them some good. I’d hate to see them break up.”
“Fox Mulder, closet romantic. Who’d a guessed?”
“Funny guy. It’s just…they seem to complement each other, you know? It’d be a shame if they didn’t make it, that’s all.” Mulder decided to change the subject. “So. Have you heard what the evening session is supposed to be?”
“The main board still lists TBA. If it’s another round of interpersonal communication I may have to arrest that speaker,” grumbled Bobby. “God, that’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back.”
They amused themselves over dinner by profiling some of the other couples, and a few of the presenters.
Entering the main drawing room that evening, they paused at the doorway, shocked at the room’s transformation.
All the furniture had been moved to one side of the room. The lights were low and candles flickered around the room. On the floor were exercise mats, blankets and pillows.
“This doesn’t look good,” muttered Mulder, glancing at Bobby.
His misgivings were echoed by several others as they entered the room.
A short, slender man called everyone to the center of the room. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Dr. Aaron Taylor - but please call me Aaron. I am a sex therapist. Tonight, and every night for the duration of the retreat, we will work to heal the more physically intimate aspects of your relationship.”
Someone grumbled that there was nothing wrong with their sex life.
“That’s exactly my point,” said Aaron. “Sex is fine, but it’s a physical activity and does not necessarily involve the heart. So, gentlemen, welcome to what I like to call ‘Putting the Love Back in Lovemaking.’ And this is a very hands-on workshop.”
Several people shifted uncomfortably.
Aaron had everyone settle on the exercise mats with their partners.
Bobby and Mulder awkwardly sat next to each other. This was more than they had bargained for. They did not look at one another, instead focusing on Aaron, who explained he would lead them through some simple touching exercises to start off.
“Turn to face your partners,” he said, dimming the lights even more. “I know this is a little embarrassing for some of you, but I assure you I haven’t lost a couple yet. We’ll keep the lights low so you can focus on your partners and just ignore everyone else. Now then, let’s get started.”
~~~ to be continued ~~~
Go to Part 2