Slinging Woo at the Slash Cafe
A T&A Production
Disclaimers: No, they ain't ours, but we *are* on the waiting list.
Warnings: Parody, M/K, and implied abuse of Tasty Snack Treats. NC-17 for abysmal language and pretty boys doing pretty things. Read at your own razza frazza risk.
Spoilers: You poor, naive fool. Oh, and by the way--for purposes of this particular self-indulgence ... er, fic, we subscribe to Arlington's "continuity error" theory. In other words, fully functional Alex. Very fully functional. All limbs in better-than-new condition.
Authors' Note: Ummm ... y'see, Te hadn't gotten much sleep for a few days and Alicia has that drinking problem and we were talking about some of our favorite authors and certain of their ... er ... characteristics and the outfits we'd like to see on the boys and this kinda just happened ... and apparently we haven't yet learned the proper use of the "delete" key ...

Slinging Woo at the Slash Cafe
by Te & Alicia
( &


Rejoice! You Are Invited ... to a private party at the Slash Cafe, Saturday at 6:00 p.m. sharp. Open bar and entertainment to be provided. Black tie optional. Everything else optional, too.


The Cafe was, in truth, a converted warehouse on the wrong side of town--all dinge and depression from the outside save for the gaily printed sign just above the matte black steel door. The interior, however, had been lovingly (if eclectically) decorated by its patrons. On each of the mismatched tables burned a single votive candle couched in a rather naughty ceramic statuette. The walls were dotted haphazardly with a dozen lovely tapestries and scores of publicity photos and movie posters. Surrounding the smooth wooden platform that served as a stage gleamed a buffed metal guard rail. Just to the right of center stage a firmly braced steel pole stretched to the rafters. The pride and joy of the highly select clientele, however, had to be the massive red velvet curtains, which had been "liberated" from an abandoned playhouse in a past adventure that had left all involved moderately bruised and highly exhilarated. The ancient draperies added an unmistakable dignity to the old stage and glowed warmly in the footlights.

The coughing roar of an extremely powerful motorcycle announced Arlington's impending arrival just as Te and Alicia finished mixing their screwdrivers to perfection. The two women smiled knowingly as the performer hastily stubbed out his clove cigarette and excused himself, ducking back in the wings to make sure he looked perfect for his favorite patron. He strutted onstage just as the Irishwoman lifted a pint of stout to her lips, his well-worn tan suede chaps clinging to powerful blue-jeaned thighs. He took a knee to offer her greeting, the tails of his vest trailing lightly on the stage. You could almost see the sensuously oily texture of the suede in the harsh glare of burning footlights ... but imagination failed in a puddle of estrogen at the thought of how it must feel against his smooth chest. Emerald eyes burned in rakish pleasure at Arlington's fondly worshipful glance, and Alex stood again to indicate his readiness.

"So soon?" Alicia asked.

Te frowned as she stared at her watch: 6:12. "Well, the invitation *did* say 6 sharp ... Hell, I'm ready. Let 'em pay for being fashionably late." She walked over to the sound booth and hit 'start.' "Oh, and ladies ..."

Shuffled selections from the "Lost Highway" soundtrack began to play and Krycek chuckled a little at the choice before beginning to move.

Te grinned. "... Just wait."

Time stood still as Alex began to dance to the subtly pounding rhythms of 'Eye.' Despite, or perhaps because of, the near perfect acoustics of the club the tiny sounds he made as he twisted and swayed remained clearly audible even under the haunting wail of the vocalist: the rasp of leather on skin ... the solid thunk of boot heels on wooden floor ... a quick inhalation as he arched backward on his knees and three pairs of eyes lost the ability to blink. As the song ended Alex finally sauntered over to the pole, flashing a grin of pure quicksilver wickedness at his audience. The rapid thrum of the opening to 'The Perfect Drug' found Alex teasing the pole like a recalcitrant lover ... until all of a sudden he was supporting himself with one powerful arm on the pole as he spun, coming to a perfect stop with one knee bent and hugging the pole while the other leg pointed at the audience, back arched so acutely that his silky hair brushed the floorboards at the very moment in the song when he whispered--

"And I want you ..." Rose petal lips mouthed the words as he sprang upright from his stretch to blaze lust-dilated pupils at his admirers. And promptly fell off the pole.

"Boooo!" pouted Alicia.

"Sweetie!" worried Arlington.

"Ow!" sympathized Te.

"Krycek!" shouted Mulder.

"Mulder!" exclaimed everyone.

Arlington immediately went into commando mode, shillelagh whirling about her head. No one had noticed his entrance.

"Grr! How did *you* find us?" sneered Arlington.

"He must've gotten a Mysterious Tip(tm)!" Alicia postulated.

"Or an invite ..." Te drawled lazily.

They whirled to face her in a brief moment of shocked outrage--until Te inclined her head toward the stage, where Alex had quickly regained his composure and was beckoning the enraged agent with a come-hither gesture.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, I feel a pummeling coming on!" Alicia moaned.

"Rarr." Arlington responded.

"*Precisely,*" gloated Te.

Mulder ripped off his designer trench and sent it flying into a corner, revealing lithely muscled limbs clothed in black wool dress pants and wine colored silk with a mandarin collar. He then leapt onstage and pulled his gun ... only to have it kicked out of his hands by the astonishingly limber Krycek. The firearm went tumbling into the audience, where Arlington prudently pocketed it.

The opponents circled each other for a few moments beneath the spotlights, Alex's flushed face causing Mulder to sneer a little. Foolishly overconfident, he rushed Krycek who in turn sidestepped perfectly, grabbing Mulder's wrist and slamming him against the pole.

The slashers gasped and leaned closer.

Mulder tried to twist out of Krycek's iron grip, but Alex had yanked his wrist painfully high behind his back, effectively immobilizing him. When he still didn't stop wriggling, Alex used his body to flatten him against the pole, cutting off his ability to move at all. Mulder found his cheek pressed against metal just a little warmer than it should've been.

//What ... oh, God--Krycek was *straddling* this thing a minute ago ...//

He began to thrash again at the realization, but Alex just leaned closer, finally allowing his lips to rest lightly against Mulder's ear.

A rough purr: "Give it up, Mulder. You know you can't take me."

The agent sucked in a startled breath, suddenly oblivious to the pain in his shoulder as his senses were assaulted. The chuff of warm breath tickling his ear, the musky scent of Alex's exertions, the slide of firm muscles heating the silk covering his back ... an intoxicating mix that sent a jolt straight to his cock.

"Get 'im!" rasped Arlington.

Alex felt the confusion running through the lean body and ground his hips into Mulder's ass. "Or is that what you want?" He shifted slightly and let his denimed erection rub the crack of Mulder's ass. "Hmmm, Foxy? Is that it?"

"Fuck you, Krycek!"

//Damn, that was weak.//

Alex chuckled and bucked against him again, forcing him to become aware of the echoes between the steel of the pole currently torturing his genitals and the rod wedged against his ass. To his chagrin, Mulder realized that he, too, was rock hard.

"No, I don't think so, Foxy." Krycek brushed his free hand roughly over the strained fabric of the agent's pants and smirked at the proof of his arousal. One quick squeeze and he pulled his hand away, eliciting a shamed moan from Mulder. Yanking the cuffs from Mulder's belt, Alex continued, "Not tonight."

Alex slid the restraints around the pole, using his own body to keep the older man's right arm trapped while he jerked the left around to be cuffed.

Mulder tensed again, readying himself to retaliate as soon as Alex eased up on his arm.

In the audience, Alicia turned to Te with concern. "You probably should have planned the mechanics out a little better."

"What can I say? I live to be spontaneous."

Alex sensed the movement and immediately slammed Mulder's forehead against the pole, just hard enough to stun.


Krycek used the moment of pained distraction to cuff the other wrist, leaving Mulder trapped facing the pole. Mulder began to thrash slightly, attempting to get enough leverage to kick out.

"There's still the problem with its legs," Arlington noted.

"Oh, ye of little faith," replied Te, not moving her gaze from the stage.

Alex batted a request at Te, who raised her hands heavenward and called upon Smutia, patron goddess of slash. In a blinding flash of light a truly astonishing amount of disbelief was suspended. As the afterimages of Angst-Free Deep Abiding Love and Skintight Button-Fly Jeans That Are Nonetheless Quite Simple To Remove, Even In The Heat Of Passion(tm) faded, the awestruck audience looked up to find that Alex's jeans had vanished (leaving him beautifully bare save for the chaps) and Mulder's legs had been restrained in a pair of padded shackles, the chains from which were firmly welded to the guard rail.

"Whee!" cried Arlington.

"All hail Smutia!" intoned Alicia.

"I thought you *liked* me..." Mulder whined.

"Shhh, baby ... just relax and enjoy the ride." Alex ran a finger up Mulder's spine, reveling in the contrast between ice-smooth silk and the burning twitch of the muscles beneath. In response to his cocked eyebrow, Arlington tossed him her Bowie knife--which he caught neatly between his teeth by the blade.

After a brief burst of applause, a hush fell over the club and three pairs of eyes turned to Alex, who was hefting the knife experimentally and testing its balance. Soon the only sounds were the whisper of steel on silk and the soft patter of buttons to the stage. Mulder was panting hard, torn between the untenable choices of hugging the pole that imprisoned him, thus bringing his flesh in closer contact with the honed blade, or arching away from its touch--which would paradoxically leave him more vulnerable to it. Trapped, he stood stock still and began to curse softly. Alex rested the blade casually against Mulder's throat as he slipped his hands under the now-open fabric and gave one nipple a cruel pinch.

Just then, CiCi hurried in, a box of Ho-Hos under her arm. Taking one look at the tableau onstage, she muttered "That's my boy," and set about mixing herself a drink.

Mulder had flinched involuntarily at the conflicting sensations, pricking his own throat on the knife. At the sight of blood welling against that marble skin, Krycek drove hard against Mulder, crushing the shackled man's balls painfully against the pole even as Alex sucked hard at the tiny wound.

"Krycek ... *Alex* ... please ..."

Alex threw the knife into the floor with a thunk (eliciting a cry of disappointment from CiCi) and hugged Mulder hard against himself, brushing his lips against the older man's ear. His hands slipped around Mulder's waist, one moving to toy harshly with a dusky nipple while the other began to undo his captive's belt and the waistband of his trousers.

"Please what, Fox?"

In a stubborn attempt to remain silent, Mulder bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Alex barked a laugh at his prey's continued resistance and began a sensual blitzkrieg; twisting and petting throbbing nipples, raking short nails over the wool of Mulder's trousers and peppering shrapnel kisses all over his throat and jaw. When he felt Mulder begin to sway against him he dragged himself away after a final tug on the agent's earlobe.

"Please what, Fox?"

"Oh Jesus you sonofaBITCH--"

Metal rang on metal as Mulder began to yank against the restraints, wrenching his neck painfully in a futile attempt to reach his tormentor, who was just out of sight behind him. Alicia and Te, beginning to feel slightly sorry for Mulder, looked a silent question at Alex. Krycek only shook his head and smiled, one finger pressed against his lips.

"Unnnhh," said Arlington.

CiCi, thinking that a certain lab boy would appreciate this particular show, reached for her cell phone.

"Say it, Fox."

Mulder froze at the obviously aroused but oh-so-cocky whisper from behind him, eyes darkening in lust even as he shivered in humiliation.

"Say it."

Mulder sucked in a deep breath and let his forehead fall against the pole in submission.

"Please ... don't stop ..."

Somewhere, far away, for reasons she couldn't quite explain to herself (and chose not to explore), Dana Katherine Scully kicked a puppy.

Alex stepped around the pole and grasped Mulder's jaw tenderly, lifting the bowed head to face him.

"Open your eyes, Fox."

Alex found himself staring into roiling pools of fear, guilt, and arousal and leaned in to kiss Mulder softly, once again savoring the hint of copper. Mulder opened his mouth to the flicking tongue and had to shut his eyes again at the flare of want his surrender sparked in the jade eyes opposite his. After long moments, Alex finally broke the kiss. Pulling a worn blue cotton handkerchief from his vest pocket, he deftly blindfolded the other man and stepped away after pressing his lips against Mulder's cheek, more a nuzzle than a kiss.

Reaching into her bag of party favors, Arlington tossed an umber riding crop to Alex, taking advantage of CiCi's distraction at the flight of the toy to steal a few Ho-Hos.

Mulder tensed instinctively at the unmistakable slap of leather against skin.


A single crack of leather against his thighs. "Aaah! Alex, wha--?"

The audience sat rapt.

"You speak when spoken to, Fox. Not before."


Three quick slashes: one to each wool-clad buttock and the last across the backs of his knees.

"What was that, Fox? Did you want to say something?"

Mulder's face was flushed and burning; beads of sweat formed on his upper lip while others began to roll down the center of his chest.

//Oh God ... it's been so long ...//

He shook his head no, knowing full well that his refusal to vocalize his answer only invited further punishment. With a tight nod, Alex tucked the whip under one arm and stepped closer, grabbing the waist of Mulder's slacks and boxers and yanking them both down with one strong pull. The sudden movement caught the agent's erection painfully enough to elicit a gasp. Mulder's muscles slid and twisted under the skin as he tensed again, shoulders pulling tight. He had raised his arms high at some point--unconsciously offering more of himself for Alex's pleasure.

Leather swooshed through air as the crop flew toward flesh that had pushed itself back to meet the coming blow ... but Alex noted the reaction and pulled his strike, instead letting the weapon flow over Mulder's ass in a sensual caress.

Mulder keened his frustration at the unexpected lack of pain.


//Oh God say anything do anything need this more of this oh more ...//

"Yes ... sir ..."

Mulder whimpered and wriggled his hips demandingly against the crop, hoping to spur Alex into action again. In his frenzy he was completely insensible to the other man's approach.

A gentle whisper against a blushing ear.

"What do you want, Fox?"

... as the crop was slowly drawn away from straining muscle.


Mulder gasped in protest at the loss.

//Hurt me fuck me please oh God just touch me--//

"More, sir ... *please* ..."

Alicia and Te were nodding enthusiastically as Alex suddenly flashed a grin that would put piranhas to shame. Arlington was paralyzed, her partially consumed Ho-Ho snatched by CiCi from suddenly nerveless fingers.

Alex threaded his fingers through the hair at Mulder's nape and tugged the older man's head back to press another kiss against hot, dry lips.

"Anything you want, Fox."

Moving his hands to the collar of Mulder's shirt, Krycek tore it wildly down the back, two ragged halves falling to puddle around quivering biceps. Mulder straightened and flexed in his bonds, again instinctively arranging himself to provide the best view.

//So beautiful ...//

Without warning, a flurry of blows landed on shoulders, back, buttocks, thighs .... Mulder was sobbing his joy and bucking helplessly against the pole, weeping cock smearing trails on polished steel.

CiCi stepped forward, Ho-Hos momentarily forgotten.

And as suddenly as they had started, the blows stopped dead. Mulder stood confused, bereft ... twisting around but unable to see.

After what seemed like an eternity, a warm hand crept slowly up the inside of his thigh, unseen calluses scraping sensitized skin. A second hand reached around and caressed his stomach and upper thighs, seemingly everywhere but his aching cock. The hands were maddening: stroking, pinching, but never truly touching. Mulder moaned and writhed for better contact, but Alex's skillful fingers eluded him, moving just enough to keep out of range. Through a haze of frustrated arousal, Mulder gradually became aware of a burning hardness insinuating itself between his stinging cheeks. He arched his neck to nuzzle Alex's cheek in encouragement and the younger man had to suppress a quiver at the contrast between the texture of the cotton blindfold and Mulder's velvet skin.

Alex let the motion of his hands solidify into a true seduction and bent his head to gnaw delicately at Mulder's shoulder. The agent's hands worked helplessly, sliding down the pole as he bent over to push his hips at the younger man. Mulder's wanton surrender began to fracture Alex's control and he clutched the trim hips hard enough to bruise as he pulled his willing captive back against himself.

 "Mulder ..."

The other man's only discernible response to Alex's growl was to grind harder against him, and Alex had to force his suddenly rebellious hands off the squirming hips. He grabbed his prize by the waist instead, and pushed him back against the pole. Fox was almost incoherent now, desperate to get back to the fire that was Alex. With a snarl of frustrated desire Alex removed his hands from Mulder's body altogether and backed off.

"A man of rare control, our Alex," Alicia whispered in Arlington's direction.

Arlington simply stared mutely at the flushed and clench-jawed Krycek. CiCi and Te began to lay bets on how much longer he would last. Mulder had began muttering "pleasepleaseplease" under his breath, a mantra of want that tore at the other man's soul. Alex took a deep breath and, despite walking the knife-edge of control and desire, managed a perfect smile for his favorite patron and crooked a finger at her. With a holler Lucy Lawless could only dream of, Arlington instantly performed a perfect triple somersault onto the stage, landing on her knees before Krycek.

"Good thing she wore her kneepads," CiCi noted.

"Damned Skippy," T&A replied in unison.

Silently, reverently, Arlington pulled the last two items from her flak jacket: a red rubber cock ring and a tube of Wet. Mulder, lost in the self-centered universe of his own desire, never noticed Alex sidle behind him again. The feather touch of Alex's fingers wrested a moan from Mulder that was abruptly cut off by the unexpected bite of constraint at the base of his straining cock. Without a word, Alex pressed his right palm against the agent's lips and the older man kissed it once, then proceeded to lick it thoroughly. Mulder's grip on the pole turned his knuckles white as Krycek slipped his moist fist around Mulder's cock and began to stroke him firmly.

This first direct touch on his cock ripped a scream from the older man's throat. He found himself thrusting at the eagerly awaited contact, shameless cries of pleasure escaping chewed and swollen lips as his body struggled for a release that his mind dimly realized was now impossible. Alex slipped his left hand around Mulder's waist, careful to keep his own oversensitized cock away from the wildly thrashing hips. He nuzzled his lightly stubbled cheek against Mulder's for a moment, nipped along the shell of his ear and, still pumping, purred:

"You're mine now, Mulder."

"Yesss ... anything--" Alex sped up his pumping fist and added a fillip with his thumb at the hopelessly weeping tip in reward for the compliant response.

"Your body ... your pleasure ... all mine."

Arlington had melted into a small Gaelic puddle somewhere behind Alex.


CiCi shook her head and whispered to Alicia, "I *told* you he was Satan."

Alex's left hand snaked over Mulder's chest and up to the graceful throat, thumb tilting the chin back. Now Mulder's head was the only still part of his body as he strained and twisted, wordlessly begging for more of that teasing touch.

"You're so beautiful like this, Fox--" Slicking his tongue across the other man's mouth one last time, Alex regretfully withdrew his hands from Mulder's body and retrieved the lube that he'd been warming in his vest pocket. He rubbed a generous portion on both hands and replaced his fist around the other man's cock while sliding one slick finger of the other hand down the crack of Mulder's ass.

Mulder gasped at the intimate touch, involuntarily thrusting forward into Alex's fist.

His move was mirrored by more than one audience member.

The overpowering sensation caused Mulder to buck backward again, driving Alex's exploring finger fully into his ass. After a startled hiss at this rapid escalation, Alex quickly recovered and began stroking Mulder's cock again as he twisted his finger around, seeking the exact angle that would reduce the agent to melting submission.

"Relax, Fox ... don't fight me," he crooned into Mulder's hair.

Mulder gritted his teeth and made a concentrated effort to obey, taking a deep breath. At this point the only thing he was fighting was the unbearable need to be utterly possessed by this man.

Alex felt the tight ring of muscle ease slightly around his finger, and took advantage of the rare moment of relaxation to slip in a second finger. A slight crook to scrape the prostate and Mulder succumbed to the lightning striking his body, his head collapsing against the pole even as his body bucked uncontrollably. He'd been hard so long that reasoned actions were beyond him, and he began to unconsciously fuck himself on Krycek's hand.

Alex removed his hand from Mulder's cock for a moment, just to watch him twist his hips in blind search for his missing fist.

The unintelligible curses erupting from Mulder's throat briefly clarified into words: "Now, Alex--please ... *now*--"

"Easy, Mulder. It's coming ..."

"Not soon enough!"

Alex spanked his ass in response, eliciting approving nods from the rapt audience.

Mulder flushed almost impossibly redder at the discipline. "*PLEASE.*"

As Alex stood, debating whether a third finger or perhaps more flogging would be most appropriate, he felt Alicia's deft hands tantalizingly unrolling a condom over his own cock. When her hands fell away, then returned to skitter playfully over his length, gleefully lubing him, he realized that his hostesses might have other ideas.

"Just fuck the man already!" said Jill, who had crept in unnoticed some time earlier.

"Do whatever pleases *you*, Alex," called Arlington gently.

CiCi glanced at her watch and scowled. "*Where* is my Lab Boy?"

"Phbloo," Te added sagely.

Alex turned the full force of his eyelashes on his beloved Arlington for just a moment before returning to the matter at hand.

Mulder was bent at the waist, still mindlessly fucking himself on Alex's hand. Alex placed his other hand on Mulder's hip in a near futile attempt to still him as he freed his fingers. Mulder wailed in frustration at the loss and wriggled so violently that Alex had to use both hands to hold him still--until he braced his own throbbing cockhead against Mulder's entrance.

Mulder froze instantly as some dim part of his brain recognized the imminent satisfaction of his desire.

"Here it comes, Fox ..."

Alex thrust the head in with one quick jerk and Mulder gasped in startled pain--and pleasure.

Trying to keep control, Alex planted a kiss on Mulder's nape and began to lick hungrily at the salt-sweaty skin, causing Mulder to shudder and relax again.

"Easy, Mulder, easy ..."

Mulder feverishly swiped his forehead against a flexed forearm and began to strain lightly against Alex's restraining hands. Alex gasped at the feel of Mulder's attempts to impale himself, and struggled to make out the words Mulder had begun chanting.

"Oh God so good more please Alex more more please--"

Alex felt his cock pulse in response to Mulder's hungry whispers and, with a little growl, pushed in another few inches.

Mulder reared his head back and screamed.

Panicked--he hadn't meant to go that fast--Alex began to stroke and pet Mulder's flesh gently. The agent was panting and a few tears had fallen down his cheeks. "Mulder, I--"

"Please, Alex."

"Shh, Mulder, shh .... I'm sorry, baby, we'll take it--"

//*God don't let him ask me to stop*//

The response came from so deep in Mulder's chest it was almost inaudible: "More."

Alex's eyes closed under the battering onslaught of his lust. Shivering, he held Mulder's hips still and very carefully rocked the rest of the way in until--at last--they were joined to the hilt.

CiCi knew this was her cue and she stepped onstage to unlock the cuffs and shackles before returning to her seat.

Mulder slumped to his knees, causing Alex to slip out partway as he followed him down. Arms stiff from being cuffed collapsed under his weight, leaving him to rest on his forearms. Alex braced Mulder with an arm around the waist and gave him a moment to reorient himself to the pressure of being filled. He then tore off the blindfold and pulled Mulder upright so that the agent was poised above his kneeling thighs.

The older man understood that the contest had come to an end and that, despite the hand splayed across his abdomen, he now had a measure of control over the situation. Raising trembling arms to caress the heated face behind him, he simultaneously corkscrewed down and turned his head to capture Krycek's lips in a kiss, sucking the younger man's breathless scream into his own mouth.

The audience's cries, on the other hand, were clearly audible.

Breaking the kiss, Mulder turned back around and twined his fingers with Krycek's, encouraging them to rove his body as he began a slow flexing motion that strafed his prostrate with each thrust. When Alex guided their joined hands up to Mulder's tender nipples again, the twinned sensations arched his spine and drove him to greater speed, each pistoning movement ratcheting his pleasure--already far beyond the normal point of orgasm--higher and higher. He began whipping his head back and forth, sweat dampened strands lashing Krycek's cheeks, and crying sharply with each impossibly non-terminal impalement.

Krycek knew he couldn't last much longer and ripped his hands away from Mulder's body, using one to prop himself for better leverage as the other reached to jerk the knife from the floorboards. Pushing himself upright again, he grasped the other man's bobbing cock to steady it. The searing sensation drove Mulder to bear down hard on Alex's cock.


The first wave of Alex's orgasm blinded him briefly then rolled on and on, threatening his sanity. Before he could pass out he forced his hands to steadiness and deftly sliced away the cock ring, then tossed the knife away for the final time and pumped once. Mulder's eyes flew open as he came, stunned to relative silence by the force of his own completion.


Into the aftermath strode torch, momentarily pleased at the untidy sprawl of limbs upon the stage--until she saw them breathing.

"What is the meaning of this?" she inquired coldly of the still mesmerized audience.

Cigarettes dropped from trembling lips. Crumbs of partially chewed chocolate splattered to the damp floor. An empty bottle of Finlandia rolled noisily across a table before being stopped by a quaking hand.

"torch!" Alicia gasped.

"Eeep!" Te eeeped.

"We ... uh--"

"That is to say--"

"We were only--"

The diva of tragic slash cut off the audience's guilty attempts to explain themselves with a furious swipe of clawed fingers. "What were you *thinking*? Where are the tears? Where are the deaths? Where's? The? *Angst*?!"

The other women sank miserably into their seats with hanging heads and much shuffling of feet.

torch continued, "You had a knife, restraints, a *riding crop* of all things--and no one got hurt? Not even one smack in the eye when you sent that cock ring flying! How do you justify yourselves?"

Jill foolishly ventured, "How did you know about the co--" before being cut down with a fiery glare.

"I. Know. All."

"It's only a short little nothing of a PWP ..." muttered Alicia.

"We *promise* to go back to abusing them *real* soon ..." added Te.

"You *know* how much I make Fox suffer," Arlington pled.

And CiCi pointed out with a brief attempt at bravado, "Yeah! And I *never* get tired of killing Alex in horrendously vicious ways ..."

After that last sally, they all fell silent, shooting worried glances at each other until, to their relief, torch's features softened in mollification. As for the Queen of Pain herself, she watched with satisfaction as the transgressors slowly relaxed in response to her painstakingly constructed mask.


A plan was forming.

She allowed herself to be guided toward the tables, waiting until T&A had scurried off from the cowed pack to mix her a drink before making her move. Grabbing the mostly depleted box of Ho-Hos, she lunged for the stage, eyes dark with nefarious (if inexplicable) intent.

But the other women were not without their own defenses. Arlington floored the bloodthirsty author with a flying tackle and helped CiCi and Jill wrestle her into a chair, chaining her ankles to the rickety legs. They backed quickly away from the snarling captive and moved to hustle the men, who were now beginning to come around, to relative safety.

"Same time next week, grrls?" Alex asked, stretching in exhausted satisfaction.

"Shhh! Yes, but at my place next time ..." CiCi whispered. "torch just arrived, and as you can imagine she was kind of p.o.'d."

"Oh, wow. We'd better stay out of her way for a while," Mulder groaned. "I can only imagine what she'd do if she found out ..."

"Okay, next week, same bat-time, slightly different bat-channel, then," Alex said with a grin, putting his arm around his still stumbling partner.

"And thanks for a super show, guys!" Arlington added.

"Yeah, you just keep getting better and better ..." T&A sighed.

"No problem, ladies--"

"It was our pleasure," the two men responded as they strolled off arm in arm.


The other women followed the performers out, leaving only torch, alone in the cafe, muttering incantations over the candle on her table. A chill fog swirled and settled, revealing a computer of coldly gleaming obsidian, death's head cursor blinking evilly on blood-red monitor.

"They'll pay ... oh, how they'll pay. BwahahahahahaHAAAAHHH!!!"




No writers, fictional characters, or Ho-Hos were harmed in the writing of this piece. However, as T&A fully expect to be beaten thoroughly, they beg you all to remember the good times, and hope you will be merciful. And many thanks to the incredibly talented authors who took pity on our delusions and so kindly allowed us to besmirch their good names in this something something.