Baby You Can Drive My Car 5/?

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Baby, You Can Drive My Car 5/?
*************************************
Later Tuesday Morning
Mulder was gagging at the sight and stench of his own burned skin.
The small, disfigured spots on his inner left arm were already beginning to
blister. The smell was clearing his sinuses and blazing a trail straight to
his brain, forcing him to feel the pain with clarity. Whenever the shredded
fabric of his unsalvageable shirt brushed against the offended arm, he would
bite back tears, retch, and howl in pain.
The door opened, and Mulder was disgusted as he instinctively slid
back so that he was sitting, cowering against the wall. He tried to pull his
knees up to protect his vulnerable belly and solar plexus. He held his left
arm turned in, trying not to let anything touch it.
Krycek's lanky form entered the room and walked straight to Mulder's
cowering form. He crossed the minuscule room in two strides seized Mulder's
left arm in his right, digging his long fingers into Mulder's inner arm.
Mulder howled and jerked around trying to alleviate the pain running up and
down his arm. His right arm was about as useful to Mulder as a piece of
cloth. It lay, hanging uselessly at his side. The left arm was on fire; it
hurt so badly…so bad…
Red, black and white lights danced before Mulder's eyes. The lights
swirled and shimmered until they came together and merged slowly into
Scully's face. He winced remembering his horrifying dream, but Sculls eyes
were kind, and she told that she would find him. He believed her.
When Krycek's vise-grip finally released his arm, Mulder clattered to
an exhausted heap on the floor in the blazing white room. He lay breathing
heavily.
"Bon appetite" Krycek said, indicating a plate of pizza and a glass
of water that had been left there while Mulder's vision wasn't clear.
"Rat bastard" Mulder whispered from the floor.
Krycek just laughed. "You have no idea," he said.
As soon as Krycek left, Mulder struggled to a sitting position and
attacked the food as if he'd never eaten before. His rational mind warned
him of stomachaches and poison, but his stomach had other ideas. "Go to
hell," it said, "I'm hungry."
When he was done the room began to swim, and Mulder felt overcome
with exhaustion. "Told you so," his brain teased his stomach. His stomach
reminded him of the previous day's nausea. "That was nothing, buster," his
stomach said. Mulder decided that his brain had better shut up before his
stomach got really mad.
After this ridiculous dialogue, Mulder slumped over onto his left
arm, causing him to moan in pain. He more carefully settled onto his side,
and gave in to the drugs.

Tuesday Afternoon
Scully was exhausted. After her chilling dream, which still caused
her throat to tighten and her eyes to ache, she hadn't slept a bit. Here, at
the briefing, she, Assistant Director Skinner, and others whose names she
didn't even try to remember were all working on the same problem. Where was
Mulder?
Although the drop-off didn't go as planned, they managed to achieve
one objective. The carjacker, Willis Reed, had been apprehended easily, and
had confessed to kidnapping Mulder and holding him against his will. He also
explained his motive. He owed money to a person who went by the name of
"Ratfink." Thinking that it would be a simple ransoming, he had sneaked into
the first open car he'd found. When he realized that he had an FBI agent,
the stakes became higher. Meanwhile, Ratfink paid Reed an unexpected visit
to demand payment and found Mulder. Offering a deal, Ratfink decided to
cancel Reed's debt if he would arrange for Ratfink to keep Mulder.
Skinner was briefing the task force, telling them information that
Scully had already heard. Scully's mind was speeding light years ahead of
Skinner's voice. She desperately tried to focus, but all she could see was
Mulder's face before her eyes.
"We must assume," Skinner continued, "that this Ratfink character has
some ulterior motive for wanting to continue to hold Agent Mulder. Perhaps he
knew Mulder; perhaps he wanted a larger reward. We are still waiting for
contact. As for Ratfink's appearance, some new information had come to
light."
Scully's ears tuned in, hoping that this new news would prove useful.
She had heard that Reed had offered new information after learning from his
lawyer that it was in his best interest to be cooperative. She would kill to
be able to identify the person who had done this.
"Ratfink is said to be a Caucasian male in his early thirties. He had
dark hair and eyes. One very distinguishing characteristic is a prosthetic
left arm."
Scully's head jerked up in recognition, and she and Skinner shared a
knowing glance. Scully's eyes widened in fear, as she thought of how
ruthless this man could be. Krycek was a dangerous enemy.
"We are currently working on apprehending the impostor victim that
was dropped off in Mulder's place" Skinner continued.
Scully clenched her fists. She herself had thoroughly grilled Reed
and found him to be useless in her search, save the information about Krycek.
If she ever got her hands on the impostor, it wouldn't be pretty.

Tuesday Afternoon
Alex Krycek looked at the still form of Agent Fox Mulder. Fox. The
stupid name still made him laugh. What could his parents have possibly been
thinking?
Krycek had brought him here to the secluded place he owned for
privacy and safety. Krycek wasn't sure what he wanted, but it had something
to do with revenge, and Krycek knew revenge. He liked to let the feeling
wash over him and tell him what to do. He slowly drew from his pocket the
clusters of bunt-out matches that he's used on the inside of Mulder's left
arm. He smiled slightly. He really didn't know why exactly he'd brought
Mulder here, why he was torturing the man, but he knew it felt good, felt
right, so for the time being, he would let agent Mulder amuse him.
Now, under the effects of the trace sedatives that he had put in
Mulder's water, Mulder would sleep at least 4 hours, and that gave Krycek
plenty of time to figure out what to do with Mulder next. Matches were fun,
but they left behind such an unpleasant smell. Krycek wrinkled his nose. He
hoped he could think of something. He grinned. He was sure he could think
of something.

******************************************************************************
********
Jess
the
Mess
All feedback is framed and hung on my wall.

Subject: Baby You Can Drive My Car 5/? beta read
Date: Sun, 25 Apr 1999 20:11:48 EDT
From: Smayaloo@aol.com
To: judie@webaxs.net, BUC252@aol.com, merlin@hpointe.com

Baby, You Can Drive My Car 5/?
*************************************
Later Tuesday Morning
Mulder was gagging at the sight and stench of his own burned skin.
The small, disfigured spots on his inner left arm were already beginning to
blister. The smell was clearing his sinuses and blazing a trail straight to
his brain, forcing him to feel the pain with clarity. Whenever the shredded
fabric of his unsalvageable shirt brushed against the offended arm, he would
bite back tears, retch, and howl in pain.
The door opened, and Mulder was disgusted as he instinctively slid
back so that he was sitting, cowering against the wall. He tried to pull his
knees up to protect his vulnerable belly and solar plexus. He held his left
arm turned in, trying not to let anything touch it.
Krycek's lanky form entered the room and walked straight to Mulder's
cowering form. He crossed the miniscule room in two strides seized Mulder's
left arm in his right, digging his long fingers into Mulder's inner arm.
Mulder howled and jerked around trying to alleviate the pain running up and
down his arm. His right arm was about as useful to Mulder as a piece of
cloth. It lay, hanging uselessly at his side. The left arm was on fire; it
hurt so badly…so bad…
Red, black and white lights danced before Mulder's eyes. The lights
swirled and shimmered until the came together and merged slowly into Scully's
face. He winced remembering his horrifying dream, but Sculls eyes were kind,
and she told that she would find him. He believed her.
When Krycek's vise-grip finally released his arm, Mulder clattered to
an exhausted heap on the floor in the blazing white room. He lay breathing
heavily.
"Bon appetite" Krycek said, indicating a plate of pizza and a glass
of water that was left there while Mulder's vision wasn't clear.
"Rat bastard" Mulder whispered from the floor.
Krycek just laughed. "You have no idea," he said.
As soon as Krycek left, Mulder pulled himself into a sitting position
and attacked the food as if he's never eaten before. His rational mind warned
him of stomachaches and poison, but his stomach had other ideas. "Go to
hell", it said, "I'm hungry."
When he was done the room began to swim, and Mulder felt overcome
with exhaustion. "Told you so", his brain teased his stomach. His stomach
reminded him of the previous day's nausea. "That was nothing, buster", his
stomach said. Mulder decided that his brain had better shut up before his
stomach got really mad.
After this ridiculous dialogue, Mulder slumped over onto his left
arm, causing himself to jump up in pain. He more carefully settled onto his
side, and gave in to the drugs.

Tuesday Afternoon
Scully was exhausted. After her chilling dream, which still caused
her throat to tighten and her eyes to ache, she hadn't slept a bit. Here, at
the briefing, she, Assistant Director Skinner, and others whose names she
didn't even try to remember were all working on the same problem. Where was
Mulder?
Although the drop-off didn't go as planned, they managed to achieve
one objective. The carjacker, Willis Reed, had been apprehended easily, and
had confessed to kidnapping Mulder and holding him against his will. He also
explained his motive. He owed money to a person who went by the name of
"Ratfink". Thinking that it would be a simple ransoming, he had sneaked into
the first open car he'd found. When he realized that he had a FBI agent, the
stakes became higher. Meanwhile, Ratfink paid Reed an unexpected visit and
found Mulder. Offering a deal, Ratfink decided to cancel Reed's debt if he
would arrange for Ratfink to keep Mulder."
Skinner was telling Scully all of this, but she wasn't hearing.
Scully's mind was speeding light years ahead of Skinner's voice. She
desperately tried to focus, but all she could see was Mulder's face before
her eyes.
"We must assume," Skinner continued, "that this Ratfink character has
some ulterior motive for wanting to continue to hold Agent Mulder. Perhaps he
knew Mulder; perhaps he wanted a larger reward. We are still waiting for
contact. As for Ratfink's appearance-"
Scully's ears tuned in. She would kill herself if she could identify
the person who had done this.
"Ratfink is said to be a white male in his early thirties. He had
dark hair and eyes. One very distinguishing characteristic is a prosthetic
left arm."
Scully's head jerked up in recognition, and she and Skinner shared a
knowing glance. Scully's eyes widened in fear, as she thought of how
ruthless this man could be. Krycek was a dangerous enemy.
"We are currently working on apprehending the imposter victim that
was dropped off in Mulder's place" Skinner continued.
Scully clenched her fists. She herself had thoroughly grilled Reed
and found him to be useless in her search, save the information about Krycek.
If she ever got her hands on the imposter, it wouldn't be pretty.

Tuesday Afternoon
Alex Krycek looked at the still form of Agent Fox Mulder. Fox. The
stupid name still made him laugh. What could his parents have possibly been
thinking?
Krycek had brought him here to the secluded place he owned for
privacy and safety. Krycek wasn't sure what he wanted, but it had something
to do with revenge, and Krycek knew revenge. He liked to let the feeling wash
over him and tell him what to do. He slowly opened his right hand revealing
the small clusters of bunt-out matches that he's used on the inside of
Mulder's left arm. He smiled slightly. He really didn't know why exactly
he'd brought Mulder here, why he was torturing the man, but he knew it felt
good, felt right, so for the time being, he would let agent Mulder amuse him.
Now, under the effects of the trace sedatives that he had put in
Mulder's food, Mulder would sleep at least 4 hours, and that gave Krycek
plenty of time to figure out what to do with Mulder next. Matches were fun,
but they left behind such an unpleasant smell. Krycek wrinkled his nose. He
hoped he could think of something. He grinned. He was sure he could think of
something.
******************************************************************************
********
Jess
the
Mess
All feedback is framed and hung on my wall.