| Alex Krycek and Fox Mulder alike were soaking wet from the pouring rain surrounding their private meeting. At Mulder's last biting words, Alex turned to walk away - back to the dry and warm depths of his car's interior . . . away from a man he knew wanted him to permanently disappear - but only after casting a cold glare over his shoulder at Mulder's shadowed figure. "CUT!!" the director, Kim Manners, screamed through the noise of the rain. She winced as the downpour continued over the set, the crew running frantic as they tried to over ride the jammed controls. A flood of profanities left their mouths at each unsuccessful try. As the technicians ran wild, David and Nicholas stepped off the set and headed toward the dressing rooms. Though they both donned multiple layers of clothing, including jackets and boots, they were drenched and freezing cold. Nick quickly ducked into his small dressing room and shut the door behind him. His fingers flicked the lock before he stepped away and began to peel the wet articles from his body. Everything including his socks and briefs fell onto a pile on the floor before he began to towel-dry himself. Once he was warm and dry, he pulled on clean clothes and dry shoes. He pulled the strings tight on the left boot, tying the laces in a bow and then double knotting the strings before moving to his right foot. Just as he finished tying and straightened up, a knock sounded at the door. In a mere stride, he was at the door and unlocking it. Pulling it open into the room, he found David standing there, leaning against the door jam. "They called it a wrap for today. Wanna grab a beer?" Nicholas glanced at his watch and shook his head. "I promised Mackenzie we'd do something tonight . . ." "Mackenzie? You're serious about her aren't you . . . ?" "Very . . . hell, I love the girl . . ." David's mouth twisted to one side in a crooked smile as he pushed off the door frame. "Have fun tonight, Nick . . . although I doubt there's any question about that." He winked and then strode off toward the sound stage's exit, leaving Nick alone. Stunned for a moment at David's words, he shook his head and then grabbed his jacket and left himself as a woman from wardrobe went into his room to grab the wet clothing from the earlier shoot. On his way out of the studio, Nicholas ran into a few fans of the show. He took a moment to sign a few pictures and trade a friendly smile before he left the building and drove home. He was so excited about seeing his girlfriend that he didn't notice the dark car that remained about a block behind him at all times . . . parking down the street from his apartment complex. Instead, he sang along with the radio until he parked in the parking garage and then continued to whistle the song as he walked into the lobby, and then took the elevator to his second floor apartment. Mackenzie laid down her book and looked toward the door as it opened before she grinned and rose to greet Nick. "Perfect timing . . . dinner's almost ready . . ." She walked over to him, his arms immediately closing around her small form as he sniffed the air. "Whatever you're making smells delicious . . ." he replied with a smile before leaning down to kiss her gently. Her small frame was nestled perfectly in his arms, and her lips felt so right against his. "What did I do to deserve you?" he murmured against her lips. "I don't know . . . but I'm glad you have me . . ." she replied with a smile. She stood on tip toe to brush another kiss across his lips just as the oven timer buzzed. "Dinner's ready . . . " she whispered, her hands not moving from his waist as she looked up at him. He took the moment to soak in her features, everything from her soft pink lips to her shining emerald eyes and smiled softly. "Go tend that before it's burnt . . . I'm not going anywhere . . ." She slid out of his grasp and took the fragrant dish out of the oven before they sat down to a quiet meal filled with soft gazes and light conversation. With the table cleared and the dishes in the dishwater, Nicholas led Mackenzie outside. The two held hands in the chilly autumn weather as they walked down the sidewalk toward the theater. That day Mackenzie had bought two tickets to the showing of "Phantom of the Opera" . . . a play she had wanted to see since childhood. "Do you feel like someone's watching us?" she asked suddenly, her grip on his hand tightening. "What? You think we're being watched?" Nick tried to muffle a laugh, but stopped when he realized how serious she was. "Don't worry, sweetie . . . they're probably just looking at how beautiful you are . . ." The conversation was dropped as they entered the theater, but the black car that slowly crept down the street now parked in a space directly across from the theater. "That was amazing!" Mackenzie half-exclaimed, half-sighed as they walked back toward their apartment. The street lamps now gave everything a muted yellow glow as Nick pulled her closer against his side to fight the cooling night air. "Hello, Nicholas Lea," a sudden voice came from behind them. Nick and Mackenzie stopped and turned around to meet its owner. The tall woman standing under the street lamp would have been beautiful, had a nasty scowl not been on her lips. "Hi . . ." Nick replied, slowly pulling Mackenzie partially behind him as if he had to protect her. "Don't you remember me? We met this afternoon . . . you signed a picture for me. I'm your number one fan . . ." Her voice was as cold as her gaze, causing Mackenzie to grip the back of Nick's leather jacket in fear. "It was very nice meeting you . . . do you want something else?" Nick was getting nervous, though he wasn't totally sure why. "Yes, Nick. You. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes." "I'm sorry . . . but I'm already taken. This is Mackenzie . . . my girlfriend. I understand that you're a big fan . . . but I love her." Nick was slowly trying to ease out of the conversation, worried that the girl might try to hurt him . . . or Mackenzie. No! Nothing can happen to Mackenzie . . . "I don't give a damn about your little girlfriend," the stranger snarled. "I can get rid of her easily . . . nothing is getting in the way of my having you." Suddenly, Nick felt another presence in the shadows outside of the street lamp's warm glow. Then he heard Mackenzie's muffled scream as she was torn away from him by a large man clothed in black. Mackenzie! was his final thought before a hard object contacted with the side of his skull . . . turning everything to black. Nick awoke with a pouding headache only to find his wrists were now held together by the cool metal restraints of a pair of handcuffs. He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing away the ache filling his entire skull but failing. He opened his eyes again and tried to focus on his surroundings. After a while, the blurred images slowly stopped wavering before him. A single light hung from the ceiling, the bare bulb casting a soft yellowed light to the center of the room and leaving the corners in shadow. Along the walls were large metal shelves, like the ones in garages and storerooms. But these shelves didn't hold car parts or excess goods to be sold . . . they held pictures and memorabilia of the show - of him. He felt as if he was staring in a mirror as his eyes drifted over the hundreds of pictures and articles positioned in frames and on easels around him. "Hello, Nicholas . . ." the cold voice from . . . when was it that he heard that voice before? Last night? Last week? How long have I been out?. "I said, 'Hello, Nicholas . . .'!" she said, this time raising her voice. "Have you no manners?!" "Hello . . . I'm afraid I don't know your name . . ." he replied softly, looking up at her with pained green eyes. "You can just call me 'Mistress' . . ." "M-Mistress? Why . . . why that?" "Because that's what I am . . . your Mistress. And you will enjoy every single minute with me. . ." Her low voice seemed more of a threat than a promise of ecstacy, sending chills down Nick's spine. Mackenzie yanked at her wrists again, ready to give up against the locked shackles holding her to the wall. It was no use . . . they weren't budging an inch. She sank down to the floor, pulling he knees up to sheild her from the reality of it all. She wished she could at least see Nick . . . and touch him, hold him . . . have him hold her. She wanted to feel his lips against her just for a breif moment . . . so she knew everything would be alright. But everything's not alright . . . She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall before drifting into a dreamless sleep. Mackenzie awoke the next morning to find that she wasn't alone anymore. Marissa - the tall woman from the other night - and Chuck - the man who helped her - were standing over her. She began to tremble with fear at the look in Marissa's eyes . . . something hinted that Mackenzie would be lucky to get out of this warehouse alive. "Nicholas dear . . . how are you this fine morning?" Marissa asked as she glided into the storeroom, her long black coat twisting and curling around her legs at her brisk steps. "When can we get out of here?" he asked softly, wanting only to take Mackenzie home and hold her. "WE? You can't possibly mean that snivling baby you call a girlfriend! How can you think you love her when you don't even know what a real woman is?" She took the last few steps into the room until she was grabbing the front of his shirt. "You're a fool, Nicholas . . . a fool." Her last words were a growl before she pushed him back against his chair and then stormed out of the room, shouting to another person before she slammed the door shut. Nick then said a silent prayer as he waited for the next move . . . Mackenzie didn't know why, but she was now moved from being shackled to a wall and into a cage of some sort. It was large enough for her to move around. . . but it was a cage. "Don't worry, Mackenzie dear . . . You won't be in there long enough to worry about space," Marissa's sugar sweet voice filled the room. "You'll be dead long before then." Mackenzie cowered into the corner and stared at the woman, hoping it was a joke . . . some sort of play with words . . . something. Nick was afraid to move as "Mistress" entered the room again. She wore a black leather "cat suit" styled like the famous fashion statement of the 1950s. In her hand was the handle of a black leather whip and its tail trailed on the floor behind her booted feet. "Hello, Nicholas . . . are you going to be a good boy today?" "I'll try . . ." he replied shakily, afraid of what her next action could be. The loud snapping noise of the whip and then the crack of it hitting the concrete floor beside him answered his question. "Do or do not. No try . . . " she snapped out. "Next time I won't aim next to you." "Ok . . ." he replied, his heartrate falling closer to normal and his breathing coming back to him. "'Ok'? 'OK'?! You will answer me with "Yes, Mistress"! Not 'Ok'!" She now stood directly in front of him, the whip in her hands now being pulled over one shoulder and then wrapped around his neck. She grabbed both end and tugged on them, nudging his face forward till his nose almost touched the leather covering of her navel. "Do you understand?" "Y-yes . . . Mistress." His words were slightly strained as he tried to ignore the pain of his arms being twisted behind him, still bound to the chair. "What do you want?!" Chuck growled at Mackenzie after her soft call to him. "I need to go to the bathroom . . ." she whispered before looking up at him. "See that pile of newspaper in the corner? Use your imagination . . ." The door opened to the stockroom again, causing Nicholas to look up. He slowly smiled at the woman before saying, "Mistress? Close the door . . ." She complied and then slowly walked toward him, a look of skepticism on her face. "What are you doing?" "Well . . . I was hoping you could maybe free my hands so I could touch you . . ." "You're trying to get away . . ." "No I'm not. I want to touch you . . . kiss you . . . hold you." She couldn't resist it. His soft green eyes, the voice that flowed over her like a drug . . . she walked over and unlocked the hand cuffs and straddled his lap so if he was plaaning on escape it would be a little harder. But to her surprise, his arms slid around her and his mouth touched hers. She reeled in the feel of their bodies close . . . so much in fact that she didn't notice his hand sliding into the pocket of her coat and removing the ring of keys. She didn't sense the sugar-coated antics he learned in acting school. Nick slid the keys into his jean pocket slowly, praying she wouldn't notice. He hoped this wouldn't have to go on too long . . . the escape now the first thing in his mind. "Nicholas . . . I have a surprise for you . . ." she whispered against his mouth, slowly standing up and holding out her hands. "Follow me . . ." She led him out of the small room, the new environment doing wonders to Nick's system after being closed in such a small room for so long. They walked through an empty warehouse and walked through another door. Mackenzie! was the only thing filling his mind as he saw her curled in the corner of a large cage with tears streaming down her cheeks. The sweet smell of gasoline filled the room, masking the other scents in the room, and Nick noticed a circle of the amber colored liquid surrounding Mackenzie's enclosement. "Surprise, Nick . . . This is a gift for you. Now you don't have to worry about her getting in the way of you and me." Nick made sure his face didn't show the raging emotions inside. He had to work quickly now . . . very quickly. "It's great . . ." he whispered into her ear, pressing his lips to the soft skin. Mackenzie's face changed from fear to shock as she watched, unable to voice any objection. "You know what would be even better?" Nick whispered a few more words and her face lit up before she asked Chuck to leave the room. "I want to do this first . . ." she then said as she took a silver lighter from a nearby shelf. In a fluid motion, she swiped it to a full flame and dropped it to the floor . . . directly into a pool of gasoline. "Now . . . where were we?" She moved towards Nick . . . pushing her arms around his waist. "Right here . . . " he whispered, taking the pair of hand cuffs from her pocket and snapping on onto her wrist. He then led her across the room and fastened the other end to a heat register from when the room had been an office. "And that's where you're staying." Nick then turned to find the flames had grown and encircled the cruel entrapment. Mackenzie now stood at the edge, her fingers curled around the metal restraints as she looked at him with wet tracks down her cheeks. The flicking tongues of the flames around her reflected in the tears, making look as if they were tears of fire. Taking a deep breath, Nick hoped it would work. Either we both get out alive . . . or we both die here. And it's up to me. He took a few running steps before crossing over the flaming circle. He dug out the keys and found the one for the lock to the cage . . . but the fire was hotter now . . . and growing considerably. The door swung free and he grabbed Mackenzie, pulling her with him as he ran back to the other side of the flames. Their feet tangled together, throwing them to the floor . . . but they were safe, they were alive. Marissa's screams and protests broke them from the spell thy seemed to be under, causing them to run for the door and out of the warehouse, Chuck now hot on their heels. Once they were on the crowded street, they lost him and then found their way to a police station . . . grateful to be free.
Lea and girlfriend Mackenzie Albertson were confronted on a dark street three days ago by Marissa Thomas and Charles Morandini before being knocked out and taken to an abandoned warehouse nearby. Both of their lives were threatened, but a quick thinking Lea rescued both of them. The two abductors were then found and arrested while Lea and Albertson were taken to the hospital. "Well, sweetie . . . if this doesn't make you famous, nothin' will . . ." Mackenzie said with a smile as she looked over Nick's shoulder. He was seated at the kitchen table with the newspaper spread in front of him as she stood behind him with her arms around his neck. "I still can't believe you kissed her . . . but I can forgive you . . ." "It worked didn't it?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "Besides . . . she doesn't compare to you . . ." He then set about proving that statement to her . . . |
