A/N1: Sorry this took ages longer than my usual ages… It's been a rough week. I was sick for a few days, nearly brain-dead, but tried to write a bit anyway… and then nearly all hell broke loose (ok I'm exaggerating slightly) and I worried myself sick over someone who really means like the world to me. Some (or at least one) of you know about that. And so as a result I couldn't think enough to even read chapters that were posted let alone try to write my own. But it's all good, and I'm writing with a furious passion to make up for it now.
(note, the following A/N is one I wrote while I was sick… thought I'd still include it because the part of the chapter I wrote when sick is still in place, and because it gives a nice picture of the state of mind I was in. Oh goodness, me.)

A/N2: Oh crap… what did I do? This is what happens when you write when you're sick and your head is cloudy. Giddiness ensues. Oi! giggles and dances about… singing Ok, honestly if the first half of this chapter needs rewriting tell me. I'll redo it when I'm not so out of it still. Though, we do need the comic relief for the next chapter so this may be a good thing in the end.
Oh and strong language one part, but I think since it's rated 'M' no one's going to care.

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Chapter 12: The Taste Of Death

Reid flicked on the lamp next to the bed when the darkness started to enclose around him a little too closely. It kept the demons at bay, and Reid crawled under the warm heavy covers, his back to the light to keep him protected from a sneak attack by the beasts that lurked in the dark. He looked out the large window, past the balcony railing, and to the stars in the sky. There wasn't much light coming through the window, and it would only get worse, but for now it was enough to comfort him, and he quickly dozed off into an undisturbed sleep.

He woke to a cold rush of air on his back, and his eyes snapped open. Darkness. The lamp had been shut off, leaving him unprotected. He brought his knees up, and hugged them, waiting for the inevitable attack. He felt another weight join him on the bed, and then warmth and comfort as an arm draped around him. Floyd. It was only Floyd. It was no demon or beast, and so he could relax.

He returned his legs to his normal sleeping position so they were spooning on the bed, and snuggled back against Floyd. He breathed in Floyd's scent and smiled to himself. "Floyd?" he whispered into the darkness that suddenly wasn't so scary. Kisses on his neck in response. "I've been thinking."

Floyd stiffened, and grunted out a 'What'-like sound, in response.

"You've done a million wonderful things for me here. This trip, and all the gifts, and there's still more under the tree, but you haven't asked me for anything. Not even a hint as to what I should get you for Christmas." he yawned. "I'd feel bad not getting you anything." he yawned again. "What do you want for Christmas?"

Floyd paused, kissing Reid's neck again, soothing and relaxing him before he whispered, "You. I want you." Reid made a small noise of comfort; though he'd already drifted back to sleep, and it was all Floyd needed to hear to bring a smirk to his face. "I'll take that as permission."

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They woke near the same time, in the late morning hours, and showered together again. Reid still insisted the water be nearly scalding hot and reluctantly let Floyd use soap on his back. He shut down his mind to Floyd's touch, not reacting to the light kisses and nips and Floyd tended to him. His time to wash Floyd was very routine, and unexciting. He had a horrible feeling in his gut this morning, and was hoping he was just getting sick, but somehow he doubted it would be that simple.

Floyd cooked breakfast, and they ate together in near silence. Reid would occasionally try to make small talk, but Floyd didn't respond. His mind, too, was on other things. When they were finally finished eating and Reid was sitting with his arms crossed and his head down, Floyd took notice.

"What's wrong, babes?"

Reid sighed, he couldn't very well say what he was thinking, 'I think you're a homicidal maniac, please tell me I'm wrong.' so he lied as best as he knew how, "I'm… I'm just bored. Other than shopping yesterday we've hardly done anything together."

Floyd frowned, "Well, I have to go out later, but then we can spend the whole evening together." Reid sighed again and nodded. Floyd rolled his eyes when Reid wasn't looking, and pointed to the TV, "Go find a music station, or something, to listen to."

Reid stood up from the kitchen breakfast nook and into the living room. He turned on the TV and started looking at the satellite guide for the music channels.

Floyd called to him from the kitchen again, "Pick something I'm going to like."

Reid laughed a little, "If I do that, I'll continue to be bored." He continued to flick through the channels until he found a pop/hits/rock station. He hoped it would satisfy both their music tastes. He hit 'enter' on the guide and listened to the song that had just started playing. He bit his lower lip, and withheld his giggles, trying to listen to Floyd's reaction. A loud groan greeted his ears, and Reid lost it into a fit of giggles. He grinned as Floyd entered the room and tried to wrestle the remote from his hands.

Reid tried to sing along through his laughter. He knew Floyd could easily use excessive force to take the remote from him, and he wasn't so Reid was going to take advantage of it while it lasted. "All you need is love, all you need is love. All you need is love, love, love is all you need."

The Beatles tune assaulted Floyd's ears, and Reid's attempt at singing didn't help. "Shut up, before I make you."

Normally Reid would have complied, but he didn't actually hear a serious threat in the words. "Aw, come on! You're a Brit, be proud!"

"No, I'm a Wop with an English accent, there's a significant difference." Floyd countered. He held Reid's wrists tightly, but wasn't hurting him.

Reid still held the remote in one hand as he furrowed his brow at Floyd. It was another one of these little known facts he hadn't know. Just when he was starting to think he had Floyd figured out there would be some new development. So he was Italian? That made little, to no, sense. He didn't have long to ponder this as he noticed Floyd smirk at the opening beat of the next song. "W-what?"

Floyd's smirk became a devilish grin, "This is much better." He pulled Reid close so he could whisper the lyrics in his ear. "You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you. You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you. Help me… I broke apart my insides. Help me… I've got no soul to sell. Help me… the only thing that works for me. Help me get away from myself." Reid could practically feel his grin against his cheek as the chorus started. "I want to fuck you like an animal. I want to feel you from the inside. I want to fuck you like an animal. My whole existence is flawed. You get me closer to god."

Reid stiffened and gulped, which only made Floyd laugh as he leaned back and looked at Reid. "What? It's not like you don't know it's true."

"I-I know, but it's a whole different thing to hear you say it, and not just imply it."

Floyd shrugged, "Guess you'll just have to get used to it then."

Reid sighed as Floyd practically buried himself in his hair, breathing in the fresh shampoo scent with a low growl. Reid followed Floyd's hands as they wrapped around him. Reid let his arms drop from the position they'd been in, and he focused on those hands that could be so caring and so hurtful. He felt Floyd tug up his shirt and place his hands on his bare back. Reid stood still as Floyd's hands did more exploring, pausing to hold him by his slim hips, and then moving up his sides, thumbs brushing his chest.

Reid tilted his head to the opposite side when Floyd decided to start sucking on his earlobe. He let him gain better access, because it was better, and safer, than fighting it. Floyd trailed kisses down his neck, moving his hands to Reid's shoulders. He pulled back the collar of Reid's sweatshirt and nipped at the mark he'd left there. Reid flinched, so Floyd did it again.

Now Reid tried to pull away, but Floyd just gripped his shoulders harder, keeping him still. He kissed along Reid's jaw line, and then kissed him fully and deeply. He was pleased when Reid returned the kiss with an equal amount of passion. They stood lip-locked for a while before Floyd pulled back and looked at the clock. It was nearly noon. "I have to go. I'll be back." He let Reid go and started towards the mudroom and elevator to put on his coat and leave.

Reid stood slightly shocked. As soon as he was getting into it, Floyd decides to leave. Brilliant timing. He couldn't find the words to say anything as Floyd left the suite. Slowly he sat down on the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest, suddenly feeling dejected and completely alone. He started to hum the next song, and in certain parts sung under his breath. His voice would crack occasionally as he pushed back tears. He wouldn't let them fall.

He sung a line and stopped to breathe, coming in partway through the next, before he sighed and snuggled down in a ball on the couch. Once again he'd been left for something more important. Abandoned and discarded until Floyd decided he was worth it again.

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Floyd walked through the lobby, glancing to see if the 'charming' young man behind the counter was still present. He was. Floyd made his way outside, to his rented SUV, and waited, watching the doors for any sign of the young man. He was getting extremely impatient nearly 2 hours later, wondering if perhaps there had been a back staff entrance he wasn't aware of, when the man finally exited the building.

Floyd was satisfied for now and watched for which vehicle the man entered, and then started following closely as they drove out of Banff through the mountains. Floyd watched closely, making note of each time the man glanced into his rear-view mirror. He knew he was there, and that was exactly what Floyd wanted.

Further down the highway the young man pulled over to the side of the road, and got out. This next part would have to be planned carefully. There was absolutely no room for error. Floyd exited the SUV and approached the young man, who was yelling various colourful obscenities at him. "Shut up." Floyd said giving him a bored look. "You made me wait two bloody fucking hours, so now you're going to shut up and let me speak."

The younger man paused his barrage of words; despite Floyd's bored look he clearly meant business. "What do you want?" he hesitated to ask.

"For you to shut your goddamned mouth for starters!" Now his annoyance was starting to show. "I told you if you even looked at him you wouldn't make it home for Christmas, and it's the 24th today."

"I was just doing as you asked! I handed him an icepack!" the young man said, trying to reason with Floyd.

"And you touched him didn't you?" Floyd took a step forward, and the man took a step back. "I test you, to see if you can follow simple rules, and you fail miserably. You already know what your punishment is, so I don't need to waste time there." He glanced to his left, as cars sped by on there way to family for Christmas. This would have to be planned and executed all during a break in the traffic, from both directions, so it needed to be a nice long break. Floyd was lucky it was a crisp and clear afternoon, with little wind to mask the sound of traffic. He watched the traffic from one side and listened carefully. Yes, it was easy to hear when a car was coming. He estimated he had at least 30 seconds before it would come into view from either direction. This would have to be sufficient, for there was no other option. He waited for pure silence, while the young man nervously moved backwards towards his car.

The silence came and Floyd moved swiftly, letting out his rage, and the beast within roared and snapped its jaws with glee. Floyd had always tried to cater to the beast's need for blood in the past, but today there wasn't time. As the man turned on his heel and fumbled with his door handle, Floyd moved in for a quick kill. He snapped the neck effortlessly, something that came naturally after years of practice. The body slumped in his arms, eyes wide and staring but completely devoid of life.

Then he heard cars, no time to savour the moment. He opened the door to the car and set the man inside, before closing the door and leaning down with one arm resting on the roof to pretend he was speaking with the dead occupant, while blocking the still rolled up window from view. The next set of cars drove by without as much as a glance his way.

Floyd took this time to stare down at the lifeless doll he'd made. Though it wasn't completely lifeless, no, the eyes, though absent of life itself, were slowly starting to cloud over. The skin would be growing cold. There were miraculous changes that went on after death that still gave some twisted sense of life to it all. Floyd desperately wanted the cars to pass, and for the silence to swallow them up again, so he could open the door take part in this wonderful miracle of death. He cursed himself for not thinking to roll down the window so that he could have touched the pale skin that still held a macabre flush to it from the cold weather.

This was by far the most gorgeous one he'd taken in nearly a week, perhaps because there wasn't blood to mar the scene much to his beast's chagrin, and he wanted to enjoy him fully. Yes, to enjoy this one fully and completely would make his day. Or his afternoon anyway. It would make the having to wait, worth it. He groaned thinking about all the wonderful things he could do. Then he chucked a little, noting that apparently he didn't always need his drugs to experience the primitive instincts he'd come to know.

The blessed silence came and Floyd moved quickly again. He opened the door again, not caring if spending more time at the scene got him caught; he knew he could talk his way out of anything. He wanted -- no, needed. It was definitely a need. -- he needed to spend more time with this one. He brushed a finger against the cool flesh, the flush of the cheeks fading fast. It didn't take long for a body to cool in this weather. He turned the head back to a more natural position with the rest of its body.

Floyd stared into the dead eyes and smirked. He knew right away he wasn't going to be nearly as careful about not leaving evidence, but when, and if, it was ever connected to him it would no longer matter. He'd certainly no longer be in the country, which would make him harder to track, especially since he was sure he wasn't on record anywhere in Canada. He'd only need worry if they did a wider search.

The wonderful silence was still present in his ears as he leaned over the body, kissing the forehead, the nose, and the bluish lips. He flicked his tongue against the skin, licking the neck and sucking on the earlobe, holding the limp body close to him. The man had the flavour of death and it tasted like heaven. Pure ecstasy on Floyd's tongue. He groaned once more with a powerful desire to take this young man again, but he knew he couldn't do that. There wasn't enough room in the car.

Floyd unzipped the man's jacket and tugged up the layers of clothing, exposing the light skin around his navel, and just a peak at the line of light coloured hair that led down from the navel to areas yet to be explored. He placed his left hand on the cold unmoving flesh under the layers of shirts, and his right hand behind the neck to give it some support. He moved his hand up the man's chest and kissed his unresponsive lips. His fingers brushed against taut skin as he nibbled the man's lower lip and plunged deeper into the kiss with his tongue. Complete submission, just how he liked it.

He was so overcome with desire he nearly missed the sound of the approaching cars. He jumped back and slammed the car door hard, taking up his previous position of leaning and looking inside, though this time with his other hand resting inside the car through the window. He was breathing deep and heavy as the cars passed, both from the shock the unexpected cars had gave him and the excitement and arousal he was feeling. It seemed to take forever for these cars to pass, just like it had taken quite a while for them to come. Car, after car, after car, with no end in sight.

Finally a break, but who knew how long it would last. He opened the door once more, and leaned in to breathe his hot breath on the cold skin and whisper in the man's ear, "I'm sorry, I can't continue. It's too risky. Just know that I wanted to." He'd never really been one to turn away from risk, but he didn't want to be charged with both murder and necrophilia, were he caught. And if he let his guard down again it was bound to happen.

As a final goodbye he ran his left hand up the man's thigh and then paused, cupping the bulge at the crotch and using his sense of touch to imagine what lay beneath as he laid hot kisses on the man's neck, jaw, and lips. His thumb brushed the belt buckle and without thinking he started tugging at the belt trying to undo or at least loosen it. His kisses deepened as he explored with his tongue again, and it took all his self-control to pull back and stop what he was doing. As much as he wanted to he knew he couldn't. He made a noise that was a cross between a whimper and a guttural moan, because it was the only way he could express the aching thirst and desire he felt.

He needed to distance himself from the body, and quickly, or there would be no stopping him. The other two he'd taken he'd lay with either during or before he'd killed them, so there hadn't been a need to do so after death, but this one he hadn't and so the pull was strong. He rolled up the window, and closed the door just as the sound of on coming cars reached him. He leaned against the car again, closing his eyes so he wouldn't look at the body.

These next set of cars gave him time to think about how he was going to fix this. How he was going to dispose of this one. He could try to push the car off the side of the road, and down the mountain, but it would probably be too difficult. The thought of his many options until he finally settled on one and waiting for another break in traffic.

When it came he moved to the back door and opened it. There were travel bags inside, and he opened one and pulled out a pair of underwear. It was small, it would do. He closed the door and took one step towards the back of the car so he was standing next to the fuel intake. He popped the protective flap open, and unscrewed the gas cap. He rubbed the fabric along the inside; soaking up any stay fuel present. It wasn't much but it would have to do. He dug out his lighter and then paused, glancing over at his SUV. It was a long way away, and chances were high that he wouldn't make it there before this car blew up.

New plan. Modified plan actually. He moved back to the SUV and got inside; starting it up he drove passed the other car and then turned around, pulling up right next to it. He had to hope no cars would come in the time it took him to execute this, since he was sitting in a lane facing the wrong way. There was no way, over the sound of his own engine he'd be able to tell if some were coming.

He rolled down his window and leaned out towards the other car, underwear in one hand and lighter in the other. There was absolutely no room for error. Carefully, near the entrance to the gas tank, he flicked on the lighter and brought flame to fabric. It lit quickly, and he was positive he'd burn himself doing this but it didn't matter. He stuffed the fabric into the hole, the gasoline on it ensuring it would stay lit in the small space before the gas tank, and hit the gas pedal, hoping the plan actually worked.

Nearly three seconds later the whole vehicle exploded. Floyd felt the air shift, and heard the deafening blast, and saw the fireball in his rear-view mirror. It would be enough to destroy a lot of the evidence, but not all. What he needed now was time, something to stall the CSU, and make their life difficult. It was really the ultimate goal of the explosion and he hoped it worked.

He heard the rumble and drove faster, a devious grin on his face as the snow started to slide off the mountain side and onto the road where the car was. It piled up, doused the flames, and covered the car under many feet of packed snow, but Floyd was long gone down the road.

He thought of the poor man, cold as ice, buried under all that snow, his belt partially undone, the hair on his lower abdomen like a happy little trail leading to secret treasures. He decided, in his fantasy, to leave out the fact that the man was probably severely burned. He just remembered how he last saw him, and groaned with that same burning need. He knew exactly who to go to to relieve the growing pressure in his jeans. He knew exactly who would be whorish enough to fulfill his every desire.

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A/N3: (because things should be done in 3's…)
"Holy crap, Floyd! What the hell did you make me write?!?!?!? Goodness! You are one sick, perverted, man! Just because I'm now perfectly capable of writing this, and it will no longer make me sick to my stomach, doesn't mean I actually WANT to write it. Good God! What the hell are you doing?"
"Shut your dirty mouth, you useless whore! Don't ever question me! Now write more."
-meep!- O.o "Ok. Yes. Whatever you say!"
-smirks- "Besides, you enjoyed it. I know you did. I was in your head, remember."
-blushes and scuttles off-