Rating:  NC-17 most definitely
Prequels:  None
Pairing:  Skinner/Mulder/Krycek.
Warning: cuffs and chains and suede floggers.  Some pretty serious kissing.
Spoilers:  Garage Scene?  What Garage Scene?
Summary:  I want a birthday surprise like this!
Feedback:  Pretty please.
Notes:  This is for Peach for her birthday, a kinky sex-soaked threesome PWP that exists just for the sake of, well, lots of sex.  I hope you don't mind the whole plotless thing, Georgia.
 
 

Fox's

Since last year, coming home had become an anticipatory delight for me.  Walter, my former boss of the by-the-book bureaucrat variety, now my dom and my lover, turned out to be a sensualist and a romantic, in his own formidable way.  Semi-retirement suited him, because it meant it could indulge in his new-found hobbies, cooking and gardening and dark sensual sex.  But that night expanded beyond even *my* extreme expectations.

Call it a birthday present.

Gone were my solitary pizza-and-six-pack birthdays with only myself and a porn library for company.

I'd come home that evening to a dark quiet house.  From the long driveway, I could see dim lights glowing in the master bedroom as I pulled in.  Walter's hog stood gleaming chrome in the dusk, taking up almost as much space as a sedan.  Downstairs, low accent lights had been turned on, so as not to leave me in complete darkness, and the windows stood open to allow the scent of jasmine to perfume the house.  Up the stairs, small flickering bulbs on each step resembled candle-light.  I paused to reflect on Walter's practicality - real candlelight would have posed a fire hazard, and my considerate lover picked the next best low-maintenance thing.

But the lights were beckoning me upstairs, along with the soft jazz wafting down the hall, and I went, doffing jacket and loosening tie.  The dusk purpled the hallways, easing into the house along with the soft glow of the sconces along the walls.  The double doors to the master bedroom stood closed, and I opened them cautiously.

I stepped into the golden glow of candlelight all around the room, and caught a momentary glimpse of a figure spreadeagled on the bed, multiple reflections in the bed-level mirrors, when muscular arms slid around me, pinning me against a warm solid body, and hot breath against my neck.  The solid wall of bare chest, the black leather pant, the wide black leather bracelets around each wrist - this was the new and improved incarnation of the hard-ass ex-Marine.  My natural fight instinct kicked in momentarily, and I automatically tensed against him, then relaxing as I felt his lips against my neck, kissing and nipping.  My head was turned and I was deeply and thoroughly kissed, tasting a hint of Glenfidditch and the spice of Walter.  At the same time, my tie was relieved of neck duty, and requisitioned as a blindfold.

I stood there, butterflies fluttering in my stomach, as Walter's large hands went to work stripping me down to the misused tie, the cool evening air raising goodbumps, and the anticipation of the evening raising - other things.

Then, his hands on my arms, my back warmed by the heat radiating from him, he walked me over to the bed, until my knees were pressed up against it. He stood me there, slowly running his hands up my back and over my shoulders and down my chest, playing with my nipples and skimming my ribs.  All the while, I was trying not to squirm too much, tendrils of sensation racing up and down my spine, weakening my knees, pooling in my groin.  Staring into the dark of the blindfold only accentuated the sensations.

"Are you ready for your present, Fox?" the low purr right next to my ear made me jump and shiver.   I nodded.

Tongue and teeth caressed the nape of my neck, and my head fell forward, a small groan escaping my lips.  His fingers in my hair, tilting my head a little exposing my neck to him, customarily marking me before play.  His hands moved from tormenting my nipples, sliding down my hips to my now ragingly erect cock, stroking lightly over the shaft and balls.  I leaned helplessly back against him, pre-cum pearling.  His rough thumb stroked over the tip, taking the fluid with him, and over my ragged moan I could hear him taste it, his tongue snaking out against my ear and his hands returned to my arms, holding me as he abruptly removed the blindfold.

My breath stopped in my throat as I stared down at Alex Krycek, tied hand and foot and spreadeagled across the king-sized bed.  Black leather fleece-lined cuffs adorned wrist and ankles, sparkling silver chains attaching his beautiful pale body tautly to the head and foot boards.  A penis gag was strapped across his mouth, familiar to me for the number of times I myself had worn it.  And a three-ringed cockring, sparkling silver against dark hair and turgid flesh.  Arranged attractively on the cream-colored sheets, various toys - the suede flogger, the black feather, the short crop, just to name some of my favorites.

Walter's fingers were tight on my arms, as if holding me back from my usual initial response to seeing Alex, a precautionary measure that was either designed to remind me of restraint, or scare Alex even more.  I could see the wide green eyes widen further, a muffled sound coming from behind the diabolical gag.  I stood there, drinking in the sight, of the pale taut musculature straining uselessly against the black leather and silver chains, watching the taut belly flutter up and down, much like my own was still doing.  Walter's grip on my arms never faltered, and I knew he was watching me with his customary closeness, reading every in-drawn breath, even blink, every swallow.  He slid his left hand down my body, lingering on my nipple, and then stroking my cock, which seemed even harder than it was before.

"Happy Birthday, Fox."

I found my voice, croaky as it was.  "He's - he's gorgeous, Walter."

"I thought you might like him.  I've been working on him all day - he should be quite malleable by now."  And then Walter grinned that particularly evil grin of his, mostly for Alex's benefit.  "But I haven't fucked him with my cock.  You get first dibs."

I felt blood rushing around in my ears.  "You've been working on him?"

"Um-hmm.  Getting him ready for you."  His fingers tightened around my cock, and he chuckled darkly.  "You're *my* boy.  Now I've got you your own."

The naked helpless ex-spy struggled briefly, but tied as tightly stretched as he was, he could barely move.  His arm, so cruelly truncated at the elbow, made him seem somehow more beautiful, more tragically noble.

"What - what can I do to him?" my voice quavered.

"Anything, pup.  You can do anything to him, but you remember our rules?"

I nodded, unable to rip my eyes from the feast of naked defenceless Alex.  I wanted to move forward, but Walter still restrained me, and I knew better than to insist.  So I stood, staring down at the pale body, my mind tripping over itself with all the things I wanted to do to him.

"Our rules, Fox."

"No harm." I said softly.

Walter's hands dropped, and I could bend forward, reaching out with my hands to touch that pale warm skin, the blushed nipples, the smooth chest.  The tense muscles bunched and quivered under my hand, as I climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips, allowing my hands full free reign.  I played with his nipples, pinching and nibbling and sucking, turning them from pale pink to flushed cherry, enjoying the helpless muffled moans that seeped around the gag.  His eyes were an erotic mix of pleading and yearning, the green in them darkening, deepening.  I settled against his hips, feeling his hard hot erection press against my thigh, even as I pressed my own erection against his belly.  I ignored my desperate need to fuck him there and then; Walter had trained me too well.

I gazed down at my captive on the bed.

"I'm going to make you scream, Alex," I said softly and gently.  "I'm going to give you all the benefit of the training that Walter gave me."

His eyes widened at my admission, and I chuckled darkly.  I pinched his nipple again.  "Uh-huh - you're my sex slave, just as I am Walter's.  Does that surprise you, my admitting it?" my fingernails scraped briefly along his inner thighs; he jerked. "I gather you've had a little taste of Walter, since you're so well prepared for me.  I wonder who you find scarier?"

I bent over his body, relishing the warm soft skin beneath me, the body that was unable to squirm away, unable to escape.  I hovered directly over him, looking down into his wide green eyes, my finger tracing his lips that were stretched so enticingly around the ballgag.

"I'm going to enjoy this," I murmured, letting my breath caress his cheek, breathing in his scent spiced with his fear.  "I'm going to show you that everything that Walter taught me is what's keeping me from beating you to a pulp.  From putting you in the hospital."  His sharp indrawn breath was precious and sweet to hear.  I dipped my head and nibbled sharply on his neck, sucking at the tender skin of his throat.  I almost laughed aloud when he tipped his head back just a little, the tiny gesture a loud claxon of his submission.  "No harm, Alex.  Walter trained me well, and he *and* I now have you." My lips ventured along his left shoulder, and as I neared his damaged arm, I could feel the tension mount in his body.  But I merely slid my arm around his chest and dug my fingers in his ribs, holding him still.

"I might hurt you, Alex.  But I'll never harm you again." And then my lips were over the scarred tissue, the grossness of the missing limb, and I dropped kisses, dozens of them, on the terrible amputation, caressing the stump as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

A small sound made me look up.  Alex had lifted his head, and was staring down at me, his breathing ragged, and his eyes shining over-bright in the low candlelight.  Behind me, Walter stood, leaning against the footboard, watching me with eyes that also seemed too reflective and bright.
 

Walter's

Seeing Mulder's lean body crouched predatorily over Alex's pale helpless one ranks as one of the most erotic sights these eyes were ever blessed to see.  And to have them reflected in the many mirrors I'd placed around the room enhanced the effect geometrically.  To watch Mulder's sculpted hands stroking the trembling muscles, pinching the delectable nipples, the long fingers curled around Alex's thick sensitive shaft - these visions were what mental-health vacations were all about.  To see Alex kissed by those lips, at once gentle and soft, and hard and teasing, sucking and nibbling and licking, leaving wet patches of skin cooling in the jasmine-scented evening air.

And those two naked bodies, perched on the cream-colored bed with it's short stumpy posts designed just for these little bondage escapades - the memory of the numerous times I'd had Fox tied in exactly the position that Alex now occupied, body writhing, nipples clamped, cock trapped in chained rings, denied release and yet teased and taunted mercilessly, leaving the poor boy teetering on the brink of madness or orgasm.

I doubted if Fox was going to take Alex through the entirety of the exquisite torture and training he suffered at my hands tonight, but there was time on other nights.  The little rat was ours now.  Already laying low from his former employers, I'm simply made sure he'd disappeared with hints of his resurfacing in Russia with the aid of hacker extraordinaire, Yves Harlow, who was all too willing to help once she knew what I had in mind.  Interesting girl, that.  A kindred spirit.

Fox moved his lean runner's body over the delectable canvas that was naked Alex.  He kissed the scarred tissue of the cruelly truncated arm as if it were delicate and beautiful, and my heart swelled with pride and love for this man.  Fox always had an inordinate capacity for compassion, more than anyone I'd ever known.  I didn't think he could, however, find that compassion for Alex Krycek ever again, but the fact that he caressed this most ugly of wounds, stroked and kissed it, affected me almost as much as it did Alex.  Alex, who was straining his head up and staring at Fox Mulder as if he's never seen him before in his life, his face open with shock, his eyes bright with tears.

Smiling angelically, Fox moved down the pale trussed body, lingering over Alex's left nipple, sucking it to hardness before venturing south, down along the hipbone and groin, nuzzling against the stiff penis that rose from its' nest of curls.  He didn't kiss or lick it, but lifted his head, his expression now deliciously devilish.

"Can I shave him, Walter?"

His voice was low with lust, aiming straight for my cock.  I tried to keep my voice - masterly. "He's yours, boy.  You can do whatever you want to him."

"Mmm, yes.  Alex would look good shaved."  And with that, he suddenly engulfed the head of Alex's penis in his mouth.

Alex's hips arched upwards, his body suddenly a taut bow-string of muscle.  What I could see of his cock seemed to swell even more against the glinting rings.  But Fox didn't let up, running lips and tongue up and down the shaft, nibbling lightly, sucking the ridge of the purple head, while beneath him, Alex writhed and arched and strained in exquisite agony.  He hung, drawn and quartered on the precipice of the orgasm that Fox was denying him, his eyes begging and pleading what his incoherent moans could not articulate.

And then Fox pulled away, moving with athletic grace, to pick up the suede flogger that I'd left lying there for him, and stood at the foot of the bed between Alex's widely splayed legs.  He paused for a moment, looking down, his breathing a little ragged, the flogger hanging soft and flaccid in his hand.   The beauty of the tableau hit me in the solar plexus; the warm candlelight glow picking up the sheen of sweat on Alex's fair skin and heaving muscles, and Fox standing there like Michaelangelo's David, long, lean, his weight resting on one foot, the tips of the flogger brushing the calf of his other leg, his eyes intent on Alex, boring into him as if to capture his soul now that he held captive his body.  And Alex, his luminous gaze locked helplessly onto Fox, speaking volumes of his silent submission, acquiescence, surrender.

But Fox was just beginning.  With a suddenness that made him flinch, Fox lifted the flogger and dropped just the very tips of the soft leather against Alex's lower belly.  Alex tensed and writhed, as the flogger trailed it's teasing tips down one thigh and up the other, drifting whisperingly close to his straining cock and turgid balls, only to coast up his right flank.  The smallest flick of his wrist, and Fox sent the tips tapping down against Alex's right nipple.  Another tiny flick, and the flogger kissed the left nipple.

Alex groaned and arched, his eyes locked onto Fox.

The flogger floated in the candle glow, and the soft kiss on the thigh, first the left, and then the right.  Stroking, from the knee to the groin, and another flick, a little harder now.  Alex jerked slightly, but his eyes were unwavering.  Fox trailed the soft suede against his balls, across the ridge of the penis, and Alex's moan was audible.  And then the flick, soft kiss on softer skin, and the groan was more strained, more filled with longing.

I finally moved, stepping up behind Fox, pressing his body against mine, sliding my left arm around his slender waist, and resting my right hand on his right shoulder, fitting my burgeoning erection in the crack of his ass.  I bent my mouth to his nape, breathing his quickening scent and marking him there.  As he lifted the flogger, I slid my hand down to his, holding the handle interlacing his fingers.  I lent the weight of my arm but not the direction, so that he could actually exert more strength without hurting his captive.  I rested my chin on his shoulder, keeping my face close to his so that Alex could not help but look at us both.

Fox's arm fell, and the flogger's kiss had a touch more bite, stroking the open groin.  Alex's cock shifted helplessly, and the flogger descended, licking the firm-tender flesh.  This time, Alex's yowl was audible, a keening so delicately balanced between pain and pleasure.   But his hips flowed upwards following the floggers' retreat, as if unconsciously begging for more.

The view was unspeakably erotic, as I stared down at Alex's straining thighs, his writhing hips, his poor tortured cock.

"You're doing well, boy," I said, loud enough for Alex's benefit.  "You can hit harder - he'll take it now because he wants to."

I waited until the flogger fell a few more times, sharper kisses, followed by jerks and whimpers, before sliding my left hand down to Fox's groin, stroking his cock firmly before circling its base with my fingers, forming a flesh-and-blood cockring.  Fox leaned his head back, his body trembling as he submitted to me, and I saw Alex's eyes widen in anticipation.  I stared down at him, catching his guilty gaze.

"Someday, my slave's slave.' I murmured.  "Maybe."

I released Fox, allowing him to resume the flogging.  The devilish instrument rose and fell, almost singing through the air, as Alex's cock and balls danced with the writhing of his hips.  Our arms swung together, and even though I lent no direction or movement, it was as if we were both flogging him.

And then, as if a switch had been flipped, or a line crossed over, the timber of Alex's muffled cries changed.  The flex of his body seemed to synchronize with the flogger, and the pulse of his movements meshed with the swing of Fox's arm.  It was like a ballet.  Fox swung the flogger just a few more times, dropping the suede to light caresses over the flushed skin.  When I moved back away from him, his arm stopped and he let the flogger fall on the sheets, and he stood for a moment, swaying ever so slightly to a rhythm only he could hear.

At that moment, he was uncommonly beautiful.

He climbed onto the bed, between Alex's legs, crawling slowly up the length of the stretched laid-out body, pressing his lips on the sensitized flesh, traveling up to Alex's throat and jaw and finally hovered just over the ball-gag that silence the captive.  Gently and lovingly, Fox released the buckle the held the strap, and just as gently eased the considerable length of the penis gag from Alex's poor stretched mouth.  He let it drop and eased his fingers along Alex's jaw and neck, messaging gently, all the while staring at the lips that were blushed rosy and soft.  Fox pressed his body on top of Alex's, rubbing their penises between them briefly, showing remarkable restraint, despite Alex's now-distinct moan of desire.  He caressed the captive's face and waited until Alex's eyes refocused firmly in the present, and Fox smiled down at him and, captured the mouth beneath him in kiss that was all the sweetness and tenderness for the most cherished of lovers.

Alex moaned helplessly, arching his body a little, hoping for more, when Fox pulled up momentarily, changing the sweet kiss to a warning bite of his slave's soft mouth.  Alex froze, his eyes wide, and Fox smiled again.

"Only when I'm ready, slave," he murmured, stroking his face.  "Lie still and be kissed."
 

Alex's

Heaven and Hell, I couldn't have told you which if my life depended
on it.

But since waking up sometime this morning tied to their bed, until Mulder returned home from work, I had not ever experienced such a skilled and thorough working-over as Walter Skinner had given me.  At first, I thought it was for his own personal revenge and satisfaction, the bondage and strapping and denial of release.  But it became apparent, as the day eased into dusk, that I was primed to be delivered to Mulder.

As his birthday present.

And that feeling in the pit of my stomach could have been fear or excitement or desire or trepidation - or all of the above.

And if, at the moment that Walter whispered "Happy Birthday" in his ear, my cuffs had miraculously sprung open, I don't think I could have left on my own.

Where these two were concerned, I was doomed.  From day one.

And now, tied and spread so deliciously helpless on their big bed, Fox's lean warm body pressed down on mine, our cocks enveloped in firm flesh and heated skin, I was beyond help, beyond reason, beyond anything but the over-riding craving, yearning, need to please them.

And he kissed me completely stupid.

Depthless kisses.  My mouth and lips stroked by his tongue, my head held still so I could not escape, so that I had to face the full force of his kisses drug-laced with Mulder-spice.  His body, melding with mine, our heat and scents intertwining.

Movement on the periphery.  My heavy limbs were being released, as Walter walked slowly around the bed.  When I glanced at him, the half-smile on his face spoke volumes to his confidence that I would not try to escape.  He had so completely Stockholmed me that the thought horrified and fascinated me.

The taste and smell of Fox swirling eddies around me, I felt myself being moved.  My sluggish limbs could barely lift it seemed, and some little alarm in the back of my head shrilled at being brusquely turned over, pillow thrust under my hips, lifting my buttocks, my arm stretched out to the headboard, and my ankles pulled wide.  I wasn't fastened down, but it didn't matter now - whatever Fox wanted, Fox was going to have this night.

I felt the bed give between my legs and my buttocks were spread apart by strong fingers.  Cold slippery lube on my anus forced a moan and jerk from my throat, earning me a sharp spank on my buttocks, already sensitized from Walter's earlier "training".  I fought to keep still, as first one insistent finger, followed by a second and then a third, lubed my anus thoroughly.  It must have been Walter, because his fingers pressed to the knuckle, he stroked back and forth across my prostate without hesitation or reprieve, until I was whimpering with need.  And then another sharp spank and his deep voice startingly close to my ear.

"Remember who you belong to, my slave's slave."

The tone, the words, went straight to my poor bound cock, and I did my best not to jerk my hips against the elevating pillow.

Again, movement between my widespread legs, and the hard insistent press directly on my anus.  I arched my back, and hands immediately grabbed my hips, holding me steady as the pressure increased.  My sphincter gave with a gut-wrenching pop, and Fox's thick hard cock sank deep into my ass.  Despite my strangled cry, he pushed forward until he was all the way in, his balls pressed tightly against mine, his thighs forcing mine even more open, his fingers keeping my buttocks spread and my hips still.

He withdrew slowly, almost all the way out, before ramming steadily into me, slamming across my prostate and make my vision swim and my blood roar.  His thighs, his balls slapped against my sensitized flogged flesh, pain mixed with unutterable pleasure, and this - this -  was heaven and hell.

And then, just as I though I would explode along with my cock, everything jerked to a stop.  Fox's penis was still lodged deep in my ass, but his body had gone still.  Despite my sex-addled state of mind, I turned my head, straining to look back at Fox.  I caught our reflection in the mirrors around the bed, and the vision I saw alone could have made me come there and then.

Walter was kneeling behind Fox.  One hand curled around Fox's neck and was tilting his head back.  Fox had dropped his hands to his sides as Walter held him completely still for a time, before leaning close to his ear.  His eyes were mostly closed, as Walter's hands moved possessively over his beautiful body.

"Open yourself up for me, slave," came the low growl.

And I could see Fox's reflected hands move, grasping his own buttocks and holding them open as Walter grasped his own erection and pressed it against Fox's anus.  Fox's hands trembled, but he held himself open, as the head of Walter's penis pressed into the tender hole, sinking deliciously in, stretching the tight muscle on the thick hard shaft.  I could feel Fox's body tense as Walter impaled him, a sharp thrum knifing through his lean body as his prostate was stroked, his cock twitching in the tight confines of my own ass.

Then Walter released his hold on Fox, allowing him to drop his hands, stroking him like a big cat, holding him, kissing his neck and throat and mouth possessively.  If a bomb had gone off in the front lawn I couldn't have looked away.

Walter's hands played briefly with his nipples, before drifting down his hips to where his cock was impaled inside me.  I tried to be as still and obedient as Fox, even as I felt his fingers encircle the opening where we were joined.  It was unbearably erotic; I could almost hear the brain-sizzle in my ears.

And then Walter rested his hands lightly on Fox's hips.

"All right, my Fox.  Fuck him."

They moved together, and their combined weight now splitting me open even more, and my prostate was battered rhythmically and relentlessly.  I could hear moans from Fox, and deep bass grunts from Walter.  I could hear the screams that Fox promised to wring from me, as I lay helpless and willingly sacrificed to their double assault.  My cock was so hard it was painful, still trapped in its rings, along with my whole stretched body being pounded into the mattress.  My vision fogged and swam, even as they picked up the punishing pace.

I felt rather than heard Walter's deep groan, followed by Fox's more strident cry, felt the double-stiffening of the bodies crushing me, and knew they were both coming, so close together, so tight, so indescribably intimate.   I lay helpless, subjugated to their pleasure, waiting.

Fox collapsed on my sweaty back, tightening his arms around me in a half-hug, rubbing his face sleepily between my shoulder blades.  I felt my heart sinking, as I lay there, thinking that my usefulness was now at an end, and that the hours and hours that Walter kept me on the edge were simply going to continue.

That this was to be my true punishment.  And that I deserved it.

I didn't even feel Walter move until I felt a hand insert itself between my groin and the pillow.  I glanced up at the mirror, and was inextricably caught in his dark gaze.  He held my eyes captive that way, as he slid his hand down under my body, his fingers finding and closing around my penis.

Never releasing my gaze, he nuzzled Fox.  "Fox, reach under your slave and take his cock."

With a groan, Fox complied, his hand sliding under my groin from the other side. Their hands connected and their fingers interlaced around my shaft, as Walter reached down with his other hand and with a flick, opened the rings that had imprisoned my cock for so many long hours.  New heightened sensation slammed into me, as their hands jacked me.  An arm slid around my waist and held me tight against Fox as the hands continued to pump, stroking and squeezing, until bright flashpoints exploded behind my eyelids, blotting out sight and sound and everything but the over-riding shattering of my body and my soul.  Blood was a tidal wave pounding in my ears, and tremors ripped through my body, the brain-liquefying peaks detonating in my skull and my belly.
 

A Room with a View

Writhing beneath them, the climax that racked Alex's body made his anal passage spasm on the Fox's post-orgasmic cock still lodged inside him, clutching the softening sensitized flesh in sharp vice-grips.  Fox cried out as the seizing muscles milked his cock with something that was more pleasure than pain but not quite ecstasy.  Encased in Walter's strong imprisoning arms, he could do nothing but suffer this most exquisite of tortures, even as the last dribbles of semen were pulled from him by Alex's down-spiraling climax.

Walter held his Fox until the last of the tremors died down to occasional flutters, carefully laying his limp lover to one side so that their new slave would not be crushed.  Just as carefully, he eased himself out of Fox's sweaty body, and deposited himself on Alex's other side, stroking the sweat-damp body that still shivered between them with aftershocks.  He lay there, watching his two lovers with closing eyes, listening to the combination of easing breaths and quieting heartbeats and deepening sighs.  Across Alex's pale back, he could see Fox on his side, gazing at the fair body between them, gently touching the damp spiky hair.  Sensing that he was being watched, Fox looked up and smiled; a smile so soft and ingenuous, stripped of the years of struggle and loss, living only in the warm glow of the now.

"Walter," he whispered.  "Walter, you're evil."

Walter chuckled.  "You're welcome, Fox."

Fox stroked Alex's face until the thick lashes fluttered open a little, green eyes widening at the sight of Fox smiling lovingly at him, touching him like a lover.  To emphasize it, Fox leaned forward and pressed his lips against the stump, kissing it as though it was a precious thing.  Alex's eyes filled, and he had to clear his throat.

"Happy Birthday, Fox," his voice was husky, heavy with feeling.

Fox kissed him again, this time on the mouth.  "I'm keeping him, Walter.  I'm not giving him back."

Walter leaned over and kissed the back of Alex's neck, and reaching around to pull Fox close.  Both of them pressed against the now nearly comatose Alex.

"Good.  Because I lost the receipt anyway."
 
 

The End

_____________

Happy Birthday, Peach!  If not Alex for your birthday, then LOTS of chocolate...

Toodles, Shan :-)
 
 

Peach's Birthday Stories