General Quantico (1/1) A T&A Production Disclaimer: Insert assorted blither and dreck blah not ours, but they decided Spring Break with us was simply too wonderful a prospect to be passed up ... "Sequel" to A Day In The Life and As Sands Through An Hourglass... Spoilers: *snicker* Authors' Note: An unfortunate incident involving T&A, a bottle of Finlandia, Bobo III aka Sam the Homosexual Slut Bear, and 12 (go ahead, count 'em) mystical trollkinds inadvertently ripped a hole in the fabric of space-time, leaving our own reality wide open and heartwrenchingly vulnerable to this exceedingly alternate universe. All attempts to recreate the conditions of the experiment and reverse the effects have, thus far, failed. Any and all contributions of feedback, mystical trollkinds (note: *not* magical trollkinds), and/or booze would be greatly appreciated. Feedback addies: AZRKruzHol@aol.com & Daddy793@aol.com Alicia sez: Happy birthday, CiCi! Te sez: Happy birthday, Nikki: I'd rather be *CENSORED* you *OHMY* with *PURPLEMONKEYBINGO*, but I hope you'll settle for this. ***** General Quantico (1/1) by Alicia & Te Special Agents' Training Program Quantico, VA November, 1992 It was the weekend after midterms and the members of the SAIT Boosters had decided that it would take more than an ice cream social (even with the recent addition of Skittles(tm) to the Secret Vault of Toppings) to ease the tension on campus. Invitations were prepared, the costume closet of the Quantico Strollers hastily unlocked and made available to the special agents in training, and the student union center lovingly bedecked in the tradition of 'Saturday Night Fever.' Our Heroes, lovers now for 7-1/2 passionate weeks, had spent hours preparing themselves for the affair--more because of Alex's inability to settle on an outfit that didn't make him look too hippy than for any other reason. ("Bri-annn! I can't wear *that*!") Finally, after Brian had reassured him of his basic beauty the best way he knew how, they were ready. They strutted proudly into the hall, Alex positively resplendent in skin-tight chartreuse pantsuit with matching platform double suedes. Brian himself smoldered in his doubleknit fuchsia bellbottoms and black polyester top, red curls teased into a petite Afro. The party began well. Few men could Do The Hustle like a young Alex Krycek, and all the other SAITs cleared the floor for the lovers when Alex lifted Brian to his waist and whirled him about beneath the disco ball. Yea, verily, booties were shaken freely that night. However, Brian's little experiment with peanut butter ("Yes, Sweetpea, my mother was *quite* choosy, why do you ask?") the night before had been rather strenuous and that combined with four Harvey Wallbangers made Alex decide to take a quick break ... alone. Alex made his way to the men's room, moderately pixilated and wondering whether he could convince Brian to keep the Afro for a little while longer. Happily lost in Isaac dreams, he didn't notice the chaperone leaving the bathroom and slammed into the larger man, landing sprawled at his feet. "Assistant Director Skinner! Oh, I'm sorry, sir--I was just a little ... er ... distracted." Walter Skinner adjusted his glasses and abruptly found himself staring into the greenest eyes he'd ever seen in his life, now fetchingly wide in fear. Walter began to feel mildly distracted himself. "What's your name, son?" He really hadn't meant to bark at the young man, but the effect of a startled gasp on his scandalously tight pantsuit was really quite ... intriguing. "Alex Krycek, sir." The SAIT had his head bent and was blushing furiously, lashes worthy of a Maybelline ad twitching a bit on flushed cheeks. "Krycek, eh? Tell me, son, how do you feel about Judy Garland?" Alex looked up at him quizzically. "Sir?" //Hell and blast! How *do* the kids say it these days?// Walter tried again: "Er ... Maria Callas?" No response. "Show tunes?" Still a blank stare. "The underappreciated art of interior decoration?" Alex finally caught on. "Oh ... I ... uh ... that is to say ..." "Spit it out, boy!" //There a few things lovelier in this world than the look of quiet terror in a young man's eyes.// "Sir, while I'm quite fond of the study of ... er ... breakfast nooks and swagged draperies, I'm already in a committed relationship." "I see." Walter continued to pin the young man with a glare for a few awkward moments just for the sheer unadulterated hell of it. "Is there anything else, sir?" *GlareGlareGlare* *SquirmGulpSquirm* The balding agent eventually relented, bending down and lending an arm to help Alex up from the floor. "No, no ... that will be all, son, but ..." "Yes, sir?" His forearm was still trapped in Skinner's iron grip. "Do let me know if you change your mind." "Ummm ... yes, sir." And with a positively horrifying wink, Walter released Alex's arm and walked away, leaving the SAIT to slump tiredly against the wall ... unaware that his beloved had witnessed the end of the scene. A few minutes later Alex returned to the party, only to find that Brian had already left. //Poor sweetie ... I probably shouldn't have insisted on that last 'Bump.'// Absentmindedly humming "Love to Love You Baby," Alex all but trotted back to the dorm, fantasizing about all the ways he could make it up to him. "Snookums, I'm ho--" Alex walked in to find a very-much- *not*-tired Brian storming angrily about their room and cursing unintelligibly. "Razza &$@* Skinner mutter frazza grumble *yes, sir!!*" "Brian?" "What's the matter, Alex? Forget your toothbrush?!" "What are you talki--" Brian cut him off with a ferocious look, Afro bristling with rage. "Don't pretend to me, Alex! I saw the way he was looking at you!" Alex's jaw dropped in shock as he gazed at his furious lover. Brian had turned his back on him and was gazing out the window, unconsciously hugging himself for comfort. Viciously stifling a bemused chuckle that would have gone over like a lead balloon at that point, Alex instead silently made his way over to his beloved and slipped his arms around him. "Snoo--" He wasn't allowed to finish the thought as Brian slammed a well-aimed elbow into Alex's ribs, twisted abruptly out of his grasp, whirled, and slapped him hard across the cheek. "Owwww!" Brian moved to smack him again, but Alex caught his wrists this time, forcing them over their heads and planting a bruising, nipping, oxygen-depleting kiss on his lips. He broke away and raised a questioning eyebrow at Brian, who only glared back--albeit with mildly dilated pupils. Alex dove in as if to steal another kiss from his captive (who, he was pleased to note, had instinctively tilted his head slightly to accept it) and abruptly shifted his angle of attack, instead laving a burning line from neck to ear with his tongue. He used his free hand to pull Brian close, letting his erection brush the smaller man's hip, and bit his earlobe harshly to catch the suddenly shivering man's attention. "Listen closely, Brian: I. Am. Yours." Brian tensed at the sharp whisper and hesitated briefly before replying in one of his own. "Mine?" Alex let his hand drift down to Pendrell's ass and shifted him so that their cocks met in polyester-restrained electricity. Close enough now that his lashes were tickling Brian's cheek, Alex kissed him again, this time with infinite tenderness. "Yours." However, even though Alex spent the next several hours doing his level best to convince Brian of his sincerity, the redhead remained troubled. ***** Brian spent the next week in a turmoil of jealousy. Despite the brain-boiling sex they had every night, morning, and a number of afternoons, Brian couldn't help but feel inadequate to the pectoral splendor that was Assistant Director Skinner. Alex, for his part, was only too aware of Brian's increasing unresponsiveness to his advances. In his frustration, despite his great love for his roommate, he began to speculate idly on the relative attentiveness of older men. So it was that when the invitation to a private dinner at Walter Skinner's apartment (the attached note was chock- full of buzzwords like "networking" and "feet in the water") arrived for Alex, the angst reached full boil. "Would ... would you like to come with me, Brian?" //What happened to "Snookums?" He must not want me there ...// "Why? Do you want me to come with you?" //Of course I do ... but maybe he doesn't want to be with me? *internal tremble* I *mustn't* pressure him!// "Well, only if *you* want to come, Brian." //Still no Snookums! *wail!*// Brian put on his most indifferent face and schooled his tone to boredom. "In that case I really don't think so, Alex ..." //I thought I was his Booboo ...// "Charlie and I haven't hung out for a while, and he wants to take me to that new Italian place downtown. You *do* remember Charlie, don't you?" Alex reeled at the implications, unconsciously rubbing at the place on his jaw where not so long ago Brian's handprint had burned ... Charlie and Brian had a History(tm). //Well, if *that's* the way he wants it ...// "I see. Well. I suppose I'll just go to the dinner alone, then." Alex turned his back to hide the hurt in his eyes. "Fine." "Fine." "Good." "Yes." "Right." For the first time since the unfortunate Fluff incident, Alex and Brian slept alone, each choosing to muffle his quiet sobs in his pillow rather than talk things through. Alex began spending a lot of time at Sarah's, pouring his heart out to his old high school friend every night, unable to fully explain why he burst into tears whenever Gilligan's Island came on. Brian, equally hurt, often fingered the small jar of caramel sauce he had previously purchased for his wigglewampus as a surprise Veteran's Day gift, the bright red ribbon from the extravagant box long since frayed to unusability in his solitary attempts to ... comfort ... himself. But both stayed silent until the night of the dinner finally arrived. Brian came in while Alex was showering, heart sinking at the sight of the tuxedo he had rented for the affair. He knew exactly how well the emerald cummerbund would bring out his Booboo's eyes. Alex would be irresistible. And ... was that an *eyelash curler*? When the scent of *his* favorite cologne wafted from the bathroom, Brian fled the room in tears, leaving Alex to prepare alone. ***** Alex began to wonder if he was too early when he noticed that his was the only car in front of Skinner's apartment building. But his mother had trained him to be prompt, so he decided to go up anyway, tugging lightly at his bow tie in nervousness. Double-checking the address on the invitation to make sure he was in the right place, he rang the doorbell ... only to hear Skinner's slightly muffled voice calling, "Come on in, Alex. The door's open." "Um ... sir, I'm sorry that I'm so ear--" Alex stammered to a halt when he saw Skinner ... laid out on what appeared to be an oversized changing table, naked save for ... oh lord ... an adult-sized diaper. "I've been a naughty baby, Alex--" When Skinner began to suck plaintively on his own thumb, Alex's eyes skittered around the spacious apartment, desperate to find something--anything--that would lessen the horror of the vision before his eyes. "And I need someone to spank me." This last slurred wetly around the digit in his mouth. Directly to the A.D.'s left was an open tub of BabyWipes, at his feet a bottle of talc. The door to the bathroom was open wide, exposing a strange contraption of tubes and bellows and a half-full jug of VeryFine apple juice. Alex heard a small moan escape his throat. "It's so hard for a baby to stay his freshest, Alex." Alex decided it was time to go. With a burst of speed worthy of Jackie Joyner-Kersee, Alex dashed back to the dorm, hoping desperately that Brian would be there to take the pain away. His travel time was immeasurably improved by the fact that for several blocks the sound of bare feet slapping on pavement followed him, gruff cries of "Waiiit!! You forgot the Desitin!" spurring Alex nearly to warp speed. He arrived at the room panting, falling to his knees in front of Brian. Alas, his flushed face and disheveled appearance gave his erstwhile lover the wrong impression. "Well, I'm glad *someone* had fun tonight!" "What--?" Alex's mind was still reeling from his narrow escape, and he was initially unable to comprehend Brian's rage. "You cheap hussy. I should have known with a face like yours ..." "Brian ... Brian, you don't understand! I mean you *really,* *REALLY* don't understand. Brian, please--you're the only one that I want, the only one--" Brian stood unmoved. "It's like the song, Brian, the song we were dancing to at the party ... 'You're the one that I want, oo, oo, oo ...'" Brian's eyes misted over at this reminder of their happy times together. "'You're ... you're the one that I neeeeed ...'" "'Oh yes indeeed!!'" Alex gratefully continued. "What do I have to do to prove myself to you, Brian?" he asked, his eyelashes fluttering. "I'll do anything." And Brian began to smile for the first time in days. "... Anything?" ***** "Gee, Brian, this isn't really ... what I ..." "Be quiet, Alex," Brian answered dangerously. "I'm in charge here, right?" "Oh, yes, Brian. Whatever you want." In fact, Alex was beginning to find his position--spread-eagle on the bed, bound with his own bow tie, cummerbund, and the shreds of his tuxedo--rather arousing. "Good boy." Brian was still fully clothed as he laid himself full length across his lover's trapped and naked form. He took Alex's mouth and savaged it with his own until Alex whimpered in pleasure, then sat back, smiling with satisfaction. Straddling Alex's hips, Brian next began to toy gently with Alex's bared nipples, gradually increasing the pressure until his partner was writhing beneath him. After one particularly vicious twist, he pulled his hands back, marveling at the involuntary arching of Alex's back as his body tried to regain the sweet torture. "Oh, Brian, please--oh, oh, OH--" The agonized moans merely whetted Brian's appetite for dominance. Brian placed a finger against Alex's lips to silence him, only to have it sucked deep within the velvety folds of the other man's mouth. The delightfully obscene mental image of his finger disappearing again and again into Alex's mouth--and elsewhere--sent a thrill of excitement through Brian, but he pulled away sharply, saying "Not yet. That's not your decision to make." "Yes, Brian, whatever you say, but I'm begging you ..." "Hush." Again and again Brian teased, tantalized and caressed his lover into weeping submission. Finally, Alex could keep still no longer, and his frantic outburst--"Ohhh Brian ... oh god do that again oh yeah oh ah ah ah stayin' AliiiIIIIIIIIiiive!"--broke even Pendrell's rigid self-control. The lovebirds had made up, at last. Unfortunately, Alex's frenzied tugging at his restraints, combined with both men's passionate Travoltaesque gyrations, resulted in the overstressed headboard collapsing from the strain placed on it by a surprisingly well-made bow tie. The results were not as easy to conceal as the Fluff debacle had been. ***** Hours later, as the doctors taped Pendrell's bruised ribs together and lectured Alex about the symptoms of concussion, Alex was too concerned for his partner to notice Brian's increasing agitation. When the medical staff left the room momentarily, Brian spoke in a frantic whisper. "C'mon, Alex, I'm done here, I don't need those pain meds he went to get, let's just get going ..." "What? Oh, BrianBunny, no, you need--" "No, really, Alex, let's go now ..." As Pendrell was trying to urge Alex out of the examining room, the doctor returned. "So, Brian, do you want us to put this one on your tab?" he said with a grin. "On your tab? Brian, what did he mean by that?" "Nothing, Princess, it's--" Brian's blandishments might have succeeded in assuaging Alex's concerns, but just then a passing EMT called out, "Hey, it's been a while, Brian ... the boys and I were starting to worry about your love life!" "Nothing!? Doesn't sound like *nothing* to me, Brian!" As Brian tried to smooth Alex's ruffled feathers (a process that continued through the night and well into the next day), he couldn't help but think that there *had* to be a better way to smack ... er ... snap him out of it. But that's another story. ********