Title: Learned behaviour – Part One Wednesday night – Skinner’s apartment Mulder gave up tossing and turning around midnight. ‘I can’t sleep. I’m going for a walk.’ Sleepily, Walter turned over. ‘Okay. Don’t be long. There are some dangerous people out there Fox. And take a coat.’ ‘Yes Walter.’ Grabbing his jacket, Mulder closed the door behind him. Thinking about the case they were working on – a group of people snatching young men from the streets and selling them as slaves – Mulder didn’t realise he was being followed for several minutes. Wanting to check if he was being paranoid, and seeing an alleyway between two buildings, he ducked into it. Caught in the strong grip of two heavier men, Mulder struggled only briefly before slumping to the ground. The cloth which had been pressed to his mouth was dumped into an overflowing trash can. Wednesday night - somewhere Mulder’s semi-conscious body was carried from the van into the house. A man who had once been a respected family doctor until an incident with a young woman patient had seen him disgraced and ruined gave him a cursory examination. Until the trader contacted him, the man had lived for some months in near-poverty. He had been only too willing to exchange his morality for money. Now he simply checked that the kidnapped young men were fit to be sold on to the buyers who waited eagerly for the next videotape from the trader. This one was healthy enough. A little thin, but with a strong heart and clear lungs. Pushing thoughts of where the young man would end up to the back of his mind, the doctor snapped on latex gloves and reached for a tube of lubricant. The trader’s assistant helped him move the first of the night’s arrivals, still deeply unconscious, onto his side, holding him in place while the doctor completed his examination. ************** Mulder struggled for consciousness. His limbs were heavy, slow to respond, and he was cold. A couple of minutes later, a hiss followed by a slight warming of the air, but not the cold tiles he was laying on, then the sound of a key turning in a lock. ‘Up!’ Slowly Mulder struggled to his feet, cheeks burning as he realised he was naked. Shivering, he began to cross his arms across his torso. He yelped as something struck his upper arm. Focussing slowly, he saw a short, fat older man, and, at his side, a huge, slightly younger man. He moved towards them, moving slowly on shaky legs, only to be stopped. Looking down, he realised he had reached the end of the lengths of chain he was held to the wall with, attached by steel cuffs his wrists and ankles. He winced again as the pain bit into his other shoulder. He guessed it was a stick of some sort, then his vision finally cleared and he realised the man in the expensive suit was holding a cane. ‘Lovely. A little older than usual, but very nice.’ ‘Who the fu…’ Mulder dropped to his knees, his hand grabbing his shoulder as the cane bit into his upper arm. ‘Silence. Another sound and you’ll be gagged. Stand up.’ Slowly, Mulder got to his feet and the man circled him, practised eyes taking in the younger man in front of him. ‘Very well. Get his details circulated. I’m sure he’ll make someone a very nice companion, once he’s broken in.’ Mulder’s head jerked away from the fingers which stroked his cheek. ‘It’s almost a pity to dampen such spirit. But dampened it will be, hmm?’ The man at his side nodded. ‘Yeah.’ ************ ‘Move until I tell you to and you’ll regret it.’ Mulder stood in the centre of the room, the white sheet hung on a metal rail on wheels behind him, his wrists held to his thighs with long strips of transparent adhesive tape. As he’d walked across, walking carefully so as not to trip and be unable to put out his hands to break the fall, he’d seen the white board behind him with his details listed in large capital letters. Height, weight, age. And a few other details he hadn’t had time to read before being positioned with it behind him. The man he’d come to regard as the more dangerous of the two set up a video camera on a tripod. ‘Do exactly as I say and I’ll find you a blanket and some food. Do anything stupid, you’ll spend another night on the tiles.’ The man laughed at his own joke, then looked through the viewfinder. ‘Stand still. Now turn round. We want you to look your best don’t we?’ Through the transparent adhesive tape, Mulder could only manage an unintelligible reply. Which was probably just as well. ************** Thursday morning – Skinner’s apartment Skinner woke, quickly aware something was wrong. ‘Fox?’ He got up and walked around the apartment. Fox’s jacket was missing, and he checked the answering machine and his own cell phone. No messages on either. He tried Fox’s number, but got a message telling him the phone was switched off. Walking quickly into the building, Skinner hurried up to his desk. ‘Good morning Kim, have you seen Agent Mulder this morning?’ ‘No sir.’ ‘As soon as Agent Scully arrives, I want to see her.’ ‘Yes sir. Is everything all right sir?’ ‘Fine thank you Kim.’ Skinner’s reply was in a tone he hoped would end the conversation. It did. The basement of a DC townhouse ‘I hope you’re well rested. You have a visitor. Behave, or you’ll regret it.’ Mulder watched as a middle-aged man in a blazer and polo-neck walked carefully down the steep stairs at the far end of the room. He looked at Mulder, eyes roaming across the younger man’s bared flesh. ‘Turn round.’ The threat of the stinging cane and his fear were enough to make Mulder obey almost instantly. ‘Very nice. Much better in real-life than he looked on the tape. New?’ ‘Yes. Last night.’ ‘Hmm. And the price?’ ‘I haven’t had him long enough to decide.’ The man in the blazer smiled. ‘Ten thousand. I’ll collect him on Sunday and take him back with me.’ ‘Of course. Now, let’s go upstairs and have some tea.’ Friday morning – Skinner’s office ‘I’ve been around for a few months now. I’m hopeful I’ve been accepted. And they’ve checked the bank account we set up to make sure I can afford what they’re selling. The part of the FBI records they’ve been allowed to have easy access to tells them I was suspended some months ago for what is listed as ‘personal behaviour likely to pose a risk to Bureau reputation and security.’ Skinner was barely concentrating on the meeting with Scully and a couple of other agents. He was worried about Fox. So worried, that he’d even contacted the Lone Gunmen, who, whilst promising to look out for him, assured Skinner that they hadn’t heard from Mulder in weeks. ‘Sir, do you have a moment?’ ‘Of course Agent Scully.’ ‘Sir, where’s Mulder?’ ‘I wish I knew.’ ‘Sir?’ Aware that Scully was one of three people who knew about their relationship, the other two being Kim and Fox himself, Skinner shook his head. ‘He said he couldn’t sleep. He went out. That was two days ago.’ ‘And you haven’t heard from him?’ Scully began to share Skinner’s disquiet. ‘No. I’ve used unofficial channels to check if he left the country. As far as I can tell, he’s just vanished.’ Scully sympathised, but said gently: ‘Sir, people don’t just vanish. I’ll see if I can come up with anything. And be careful this evening. These white slavery people seem completely ruthless and totally amoral. You should…’ Scully looked up at Skinner, her voice tailing off as they both shared the same thought. Skinner got up. ‘Kim, I don’t want to be interrupted.’ ‘Sir.’ He pulled a video cassette out of a padded envelope. ‘They delivered this to my apartment. I didn’t have a chance to look at it before I left. I’m not exactly interested in what they’re selling.’ Scully took the cassette from him, pushed it into the VCR in the corner of his office, grabbed the remote, and perched on the side of the desk. As the screen flicked into life, Scully stared in horror at the image in front of her. ‘Oh no…’ Immediately, she pressed the remote and the image froze on the screen. The image of Mulder, naked and with the marks of beatings across his upper arms, stared back at them as Scully and Skinner looked at each other. Friday night – the basement Alone with just the one man, a bowl of food in front of him, Mulder said tersely: ‘Let me go. I’m an FBI agent. I’ll be missed already.’ The man smiled, walking to a box on the floor at the foot of the staircase. Mulder couldn’t see clearly in the dimly-lit room what he held, but he didn’t imagine it was the key to his cuffs. The man picked up the untouched bowl. ‘Not hungry huh? Your loss.’ He hauled Mulder across the room to an upright metal post set into the concrete floor. ‘Don’t worry kid, you’ll probably get used to your new life real quick. Or not. Either way, you’re out of here Sunday. Three days together. I’m looking forward to it.’ Mulder struggled in his cuffs, his curses muffled by the large ball gag which had been forced into his mouth. He squealed as the man’s fingers pushed between his buttocks. ‘You’ve gotta relax Foxy. Maybe I’ll give you a few pointers. Make your new life a little easier.’ Mulder sagged as the man’s hand pulled quickly from him as a shout from upstairs summoned him. Saturday night – a DC townhouse ‘The videotape you sent me was…interesting. Is the boy still available?’ The overweight man smiled. ‘He’s hardly a boy. I agree he does look young. He says he’s thirty-eight. Are you still interested?’ Skinner nodded. ‘Follow me.’ The basement was dimly lit with a couple of electric lights with metal cage surrounds. Walter followed the older man slowly down the steep staircase, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. ‘Over here.’ The trader pointed his cane at a figure sitting hunched in the corner of the room. ‘Up!’ Instantly, Fox obeyed. He knew from experience that to look up or delay too long would earn him a blow from the cane, so he stared at the floor, wondering who the Hell the latest visitor was. ‘Well? Isn’t he perfect? Turn round!’ Fox turned to stand with his back to the two men, his limited experience telling him that the trader’s honesty would put this potential buyer off as it had the other two. ‘He is wild. Tameable, if you have the time. But completely unbroken. Hence the restraints.’ The trader indicated the cuffs around Fox’s wrists and ankles, attached the chains bolted to the wall. Skinner made an appreciative noise. The trader smiled. ‘I’m afraid there’s something else I need to tell you.’ ‘Oh?’ ‘He’s been reserved. Twenty thousand. Apparently someone is prepared to put in the effort.’ The trader hoped the lie didn’t show on his face. He’d seen the details of this man’s bank account. He could well afford the extra. Fox was sure that he’d heard the well-dressed man mention ten thousand. Either he’d heard wrong, or his captor was trying to up the price. Walter nodded, sensing the lie but not reacting to it. ‘Cost is immaterial. I’ll pay any price to get what I want.’ Suddenly, Fox recognised Skinner’s voice. He turned round, looking at Skinner. Immediately he felt a sharp pain across his left shoulder. ‘How dare you disobey me! I would have thought a little hunger would help you remember your place.’ Turning to Skinner, the trader said quickly: ‘I apologise for the boy’s impertinence.’ In an amused voice, Skinner commented: ‘In the circumstances, I’d say it just proves your point about his being unbroken.’ ‘I’m relieved you’re being so understanding. If you did want to take him, I could start some basic training here.’ Quickly, Skinner replied: ‘That won’t be necessary. And I would like him fed. He is a little thin.’ The trader nodded. ‘Of course. May I suggest we go upstairs and discuss the details?’ ‘Yes.’ Skinner walked across to Fox. God, he was thin. Even in the few days he’d obviously gone without food, his lean frame was on the verge of becoming skeletal. ‘Careful sir, he may bite.’ The trader warned. Grabbing a handful of Fox’s hair, Skinner looked into Fox’s eyes. Trust had replaced the fear he’d seen earlier. He smiled reassuringly, knowing Fox would understand. ‘Oh, I think he’ll resist the urge. Never bite the hand that feeds you, right?’ The trader laughed, watching carefully, his cane ready in case the young man did react badly to the buyer’s touch. Skinner released his grip on Fox’s hair and nodded slightly at him. ‘If we agree terms, I’d like to take him with me when I leave.’ Suddenly calculating his profit on the slave, the trader’s eyes lit up. ‘Of course. Please, follow me.’ Fox whimpered softly as Skinner walked away, and the trader’s cane raised. Skinner’s hand pushed it down. ‘No.’ ‘As you wish.’ The trader wasn’t going to do anything to put off the buyer now they were so close to a deal. ************** Drinking fruit tea in the elegant sitting room, Skinner and the trader could have been discussing the purchase of a piece of antique furniture. But they were not. Skinner shook the trader’s hand. ‘Is he ready?’ The trader pressed a button on the wall beside him. ‘He’s waiting for you.’ An older man, heavy-set and almost as tall as Fox, pushed Fox into the room, a length of chain attached to the collar at Fox’s neck wrapped round his large hand several times. Skinner got up, took the chain from the man, and nodded his thanks. Fox had been dressed in the t-shirt, jeans and sneakers he’d been wearing when he’d left the apartment three days earlier. He hoped Fox understood the role he would have to play perfectly for the next few minutes if they were to both leave the house alive. Skinner pushed Fox onto the floor, relieved when Fox sat hunched, his hands locked round his knees. Pulling slightly on the chain, Skinner said sharply: ‘On your knees. Hands behind your back. Head down.’ The first position he’d ever taught Fox. Who played his part well, scrambling to his knees and dropping his head. But his hands remained at his sides. Just firmly enough to make it look convincing, Skinner cuffed Fox around the head. ‘Hands behind your back, slave.’ Looking at the trader, he asked: ‘Does he have a name?’ ‘We called him Fox.’ Skinner laughed. ‘I think that’ll have to change.’ The trader smiled. ‘He’s yours. Your slave, your choice.’ Skinner looked at Fox, then to the trader. ‘I trust he’s been…untouched with anything other than your cane?’ The trader nodded quickly. ‘I would never interfere with a slave. He is exactly as he was found.’ Skinner nodded curtly, hiding his relief. ‘Good.’ He got up, pulling on the chain. ‘Up!’ Fox obeyed with just the right amount of feigned reluctance, casting a genuinely frightened glance at the trader’s cane. Skinner saw the direction of Fox’s gaze. ‘Wait till I get you home little one. The sting of the cane will be a distant memory in no time.’ The trader’s eyes widened at the thought of how the powerful master would tame his new purchase. ************* Skinner pulled Fox into the car. ‘How...’ ‘Quiet!’ Skinner hissed. Then Fox realised they were being watched by the man who had brought Fox up from the basement. Skinner fastened Fox’s seatbelt, then nodded at the watching man. As they approached the heavy gates, Skinner’s breathing became audible, so much so that Fox, still dazed by the events of the past hour, sensed his Master’s fear. After a few seconds, the gates began to open and Skinner floored the accelerator and drove quickly out of the grounds. After a few hundred yards, he pulled the car over and reached across for Fox, who pulled himself free of his seatbelt and buried himself in Skinner’s tight embrace. His tears soaked Skinner’s silk shirt, and, feeling the dampness under his cheek, he lifted his head slightly. ‘I was so scared.’ Stroking his slave’s hair, Skinner whispered. ‘Me too.’ Skinner reached round and unhooked the leather collar and chain. The simple action, and the altered sensation around his throat, bought fresh tears to Mulder’s eyes. ‘Shh now. You’re safe. It’s okay. There. Hush now.’ Skinner held Fox tightly, trying to ease the younger man’s terrified sobs. Eventually, they both calmed, and Skinner pulled away from the kerb, driving home. On to Part Two Home Send me feedback on this fic Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index