"I know." Ethan caressed his flank. Fox was shirtless, examining himself in the mirror hung on the closet door.

"Stop it." Fox swatted at Ethan's hand without any real conviction. "But this feels real."

"Looks real." Ethan ran his hand over it. Then, with an impish grin, he leaned over and ran his tongue along it. Fox shivered. The appliance was so thin that scarcely any sensation was lost. "But it tastes..." Ethan did it again, and smacked his lips thoughtfully. "I'm afraid it tastes like... chicken."

Fox shoved him. "I thought I was chicken."

"Rooster, maybe."

Fox looked at himself in the mirror again. "We're really going to do this, aren't we?"

Ethan rubbed his chin on Fox's shoulder. "Yes, we are. One more detail, then a test. We leave day after tomorrow for England."

"England? Not Columbia?"

"We go to Columbia from England. Our other selves are there now. I spoke with our operative yesterday."

Fox put on his shirt, spoiling Ethan's view. "That tone of voice is ominous. What did he say?" He stuffed the tail under his waistband. Ethan was tempted to do the 'get your shirt tail straight' bit again and cop a feel, but that probably only worked once. Besides, now he didn't really need an excuse.

"It's been decided that one final test is needed to see if we can pass. They want us to take out our opposite numbers."

"Take out?" Fox's voice was alarmed. "Look, I told you..."

"Relax, lover." Ethan nuzzled the side of his neck in a move that was calculated to soothe the FBI agent. It helped that Ethan enjoyed it, too. "In this case, 'take out' means we put the snatch on them. Neutralize them so other agents can whisk them away. Then the next morning, Connor Galbraith and Daniel Ballard check out of their London hotel, and fly to South America for their little business venture.

Fox blew out a breath. "This keeps getting more complicated."

"Life is like that."

"What's the detail we haven't taken care of? I mean, I dress like Daniel..." He thickened his accent to a drawl, "I talk like Daniel. I have his hair, his contacts, even his scar. What's left?"

"You don't have his fingerprints."

Fox was silent for a moment. "If there's one thing I've learned working for the FBI, it's that no two people in history have had the same fingerprints, not even identical twins. Close, but not the same. If clones were a posibility..." He checked himself. Later Ethan wondered about this, and made a mental note to ask him about it when things cooled down. "Even clones don't have the same fingerprints."

"Granted we can't permanently alter anyone's loops and whorls, but we CAN do temporary."

Ethan opened the box that had been sitting in the mailbox that morning, and extracted what looked like two extra large watercolor boxes. When he opened one, though, the long row of little cakes were all a uniform putty color. "Look at those."

Mulder peered closely. The surfaces of the disks were not smooth. There were faint ridges: ridges that formed the generically familiar loops and whirls of fingerprints. "These are yours, those are mine."

"Pardon my saying so, but what the fuck do we DO with them?"

"Patience. Sit down. You'll need to be steady for a minute or so." Fox sat at the table. Ethan took up another unlabled aerosol can, shaking it. "Hold out your hands, fingers spread as wide as you can, palm up." Fox obeyed. "This is going to be cold, and I'll have to work quickly once it's on you. I'm going to press each of your fingers on one of those disks. Don't roll them off, like fingerprinting. Don't move them at all till I tell you to, okay? These are kind of fragile, and we only get one chance. We might not NEED the right fingerprints, but I believe in belt AND suspenders."

"Liar. You have no problem at all with pants falling down." Ethan smirked, and sprayed Mulder's hands. He hadn't been lying: it was cold as hell.

The stuff felt rather thick: clingy. Ethan put down the can, took hold of Mulder's hands, and quickly and firmly pressed each fingertip onto a seperate disk. "Hold it."

"You said that already." Fox waited patiently, while Hunt watched the sweep hand on the clock.

"Alright. Pick them up gently, pulling up from back toward tip." Fox did so. "Show me your hands."

Ethan took Mulder's hand in his own, examining them. "Worked."

Fox stared at his fingers, perplexed, and flexed them. "Did that stuff absorb into my skin? I can't feel it."

"No, it's there."

"I can't see it, either."

"Trust me. To anyone who dusts an object you've touched from now till we remove that, you ARE Daniel Ballard. Now..." He shoved the can at Mulder and held out his own hands, palms up and fingers spread. "Do me."

Mulder shook the can and said, expression very serious, "You know, Hunt, there are a lot of ways to interpret those two words."

Ethan bit his lip, struggling against the grin that wanted to break out. "With the can, you horny bastard."

Mulder's eyebrows rose. "I'd think that would hurt."

Ethan gave up the fight and laughed.

As he sprayed the stuff on Ethan's hands, Fox murmured, "It's because they don't trust me, isn't it?"

Ethan hesitated, but he couldn't let the substance dry before he applied his fingers to the templates. He carefully fitted them in place, then said slowly, "You're an unknown quantity to them, Mulder. A lot is riding on this, and they want to be sure." Fox grunted. Ethan gave him a level stare. "I trust you. I'm the one who's going in there, with you watching my butt."

"And I know you'll be watching my butt, so we have sort of a mutual ass-watching society." His tone was flip, but Ethan could see in his eyes that he was still troubled.

"I don't like this either. I'm feeling schizophrenic enough as it is, just knowing there's someone out there who resembles me so closely. And now, practically living as him..." Fox ran down, not really sure how to express what he was feeling. For the last few days, they had been living as Ballard and Galbraith. They presented themselves as Danny and Connor whenever they left the apartment.

In the apartment, they continued the charade. If Fox slipped and called Ethan by his real name, he was ignored till he corrected himself. It didn't happen often, and hadn't happened at all for a while.

But it was getting to Mulder. Especially when Ethan called him 'Danny' while they were making love. He somehow felt like he was cheating another man out of an orgasm.

Ethan saw that Mulder wasn't just whining; he was truly upset about this. That bothered Hunt. He genuinely cared about Mulder now, and he was on the point of bringing him into a volatile situation where his life would, without a doubt, be at risk. He would be using his lover, no matter how nicely the idea was packaged in patriotism and duty. Ethan hated that like poison, but he didn't see any way around it.

All he could do was try to reassure Mulder that he wasn't subsumed into the role he was being asked to play. He had to let him know that he was valued as himself, and he thought he knew a way that might help, at least a little. Even if it didn't, they would both enjoy the hell out of it.

He carefully pried his fingers up from the templates and checked the surface of the pads for tearing or distortion. Perfect. He flexed his fingers, and gave Mulder a lecherous smile, "Hey, Mulder, how about we put Galbraith's and Ballard's fingerprints all over each other?"

Mulder answered the smile, but his effort was a little faint. "How many times have I turned you down, Hunt? What did you have in mind?"

"Well, like the Monty Python boys say, 'and now for something completely different'." He was pulling Mulder into the bedroom.

"You're scaring me," he said dryly. "I'll ask again: What do you have in mind?"

Hunt was unbuttoning Mulder's shirt. "Something that Connor and Daniel have probably never done."

"Oh, man, you're really scaring me now." Ethan was pulling Mulder's shirt tail out of his pants. Mulder was pretty sure by now that if it didn't involve the dead, bodily wastes, or farm animals, he would do whatever Ethan wanted. "I want to know what you're thinking of before this goes any farther."

"I'm thinking," Ethan kissed him deeply, working his tongue hungrily in Mulder's mouth for a moment. "That I want you to top me this time."

Mulder's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Never one to miss an opportunity, Ethan kissed him again. Mulder's eyes were a little wary. Testing, he said, "Is that what you really want, Con?"

Ethan jerked off his own T-shirt, exposing nipples that were already hard. "Fuck what Connor wants. This is what _I_ want! And don't you dare be Danny when we do this, Mulder. It's YOU I want in my ass, not him."

As Ethan had hoped, desire flared in Mulder's eyes, the gold of the hazel seeming to darken as his pupils dilated. Mulder pushed him back on the bed, falling on top of him. Ethan quickly spread his legs, then hooked his ankles up being Mulder's back "Yeah, like this. I want to look you in the face when you come inside me." He arched his pelvis up, grinding an already respectable erection agains Fox.

"Oh, damn!" Mulder gasped. "Christ, Hunt, you keep doin' that and I won't MAKE it inside you before I come."

"What do I care? I'll just suck you till you get it up again."

The raunchy talk had the desired effect. Fox ripped at his and Ethan's clothes almost frantically, swearing when he had difficulty with the fastenings. Ethan kept talking. "That's right, Mulder. Fast and hot. I won't need much to get ready, and I want you to RIDE me, you hear? I'm not a virgin, you don't have to worry about breaking me."

Fox was reaching behind himself to jerk off Hunt's shoes. Ethan twisted and managed to reach the night stand, driving the bulge of his fly up against Mulder's and making him moan. Ethan clawed out a condom and the tube of lubricant, dropping them on the mattress.

"Ethan, unhook your fucking legs so I can get your pant's off you!" Hunt laughed and pulled his knees up, letting Fox skin off his pants and underwear. Mulder almost fell off the bed removing his own pants, earning another snicker. "Oh, you're gonna PAY for that, Hunt!"

"I can only hope." Ethan grabbed Mulder's hand and coated his fingers with gel, then bent, and spread, his legs again, grabbing his knees. "Do me."

Mulder was as hard as a rock already. His hand shook a little as he smoothed the excess lubricant down Ethan's crease, then returned to circle around his ass hole. Ethan bit his lip as Fox massaged the little pucker, then slowly pushed one finger in. Fox didn't hesitate, pushing in a second finger almost immediately and scissoring them. He was taking Hunt at his word, and Ethan was loving it.

Mulder pumped his hand, asking, "Want me to try to get your prostate?"

"Shit, I love ya, but that's a fucking dumb question, Mulder."

"Yeah?" Mulder pushed hard, crooking his fingers and rubbing across the little bump. Ethan spasmed, yelping with pleasure. "How dumb is that?"

"That's fucking genius! Do it again!"

"Greedy."

"Fuck, yeah. I forgot how damn GOOD this was." Mulder stroked again, and again, massaging the gland till Ethan was jerking helplessly, whimpering. Unable to wait any longer, Mulder took his hand away to put on the condom. "Christ, Mulder!" Ethan wailed. "Hurry up!"

Mulder slipped on the rubber, moved up to Ethan, and slammed into him with one hard, long stroke. Ethan threw back his head, screaming in pleasure, and Fox almost came right then, but he managed to reach down and grab the base of his cock, pinching off any chance the sperm had to exit.

He just stayed there, sweating and holding himself while Ethan bucked against him. It was amazing. If he wanted to, all he'd have to do was just stay there, Ethan would fuck himself on Mulder's embedded prick.

But Mulder wasn't about to do that, not now that he was the active partner. He finally grabbed Hunt's waist, pushing him back against the mattress. "Hunt, be still for a minute!"

Ethan bared his teeth, and hissed, "Then fuck me, damn it!"

Mulder had no problem with that. He began to drive into Hunt in a hard, fast rhythm. He wasn't trying to be gentle, though he hoped he might do this with a little tenderness some time in the future. Right now, this was what they both wanted: raw, primative sex.

Groaning in time to his lover's thrusts, Ethan reached down and stroked his own dripping cock with one hand. With the other he reached behind Mulder, feeling for his crack. "Get your hand away from my ass unless you're just gonna hang on, Hunt," Mulder warned. "Not this time. This time I top all the way."

"Yes sire!" Ethan gasped, instead adding the second hand to the very pleasant task of jerking off while Mulder rammed into him.

Mulder came first, eyes squeezed shut as he unloaded into the condom, wishing he had met Ethan Hunt before the whole AIDs thing, when any thing you might pick up could be treated, and unprotected sex wasn't necessarily Russian roulette with more filled chambers than empty ones.

He pushed Ethan's hands away, and finished masturbating him, stroking him to completion and enjoying the added squeeze around his softening cock when Hunt's internal muscles milked him.

Finally they lay beside each other again, both sweaty and breathless. Ethan moaned, rubbing his face on Mulder's shoulder. "My ass aches, but in a good way."

"Yeah, well, you asked for it, slut."

Hunt bit one of Mulder's still erect nipples. "You're so damn butch."

Fox didn't think he had enough strength or energy left to laugh, but somehow he managed.