Author's Notes: Translation: beso negro (noun) : The act of having a woman or a man sucking someoneīs anus, first licking the external surroundings of it and afterwards having her/his tongue introduced into the rectum completely. Literally, black kiss. It is a term widely known among promiscuous social establishments in Spain, but also known as an act of supreme and refined taste among aristocrats in Spain, France and Italy for the last two centuries. It was considered as about the most pleasant act a female could do for a man, and is widely documented in French and Spanish Erotic Literature. Also, Spanish and French courtesans would appreciate the quality of a gentlemanīs manners by the way he would perform it. Nowadays, it is becoming a fashionable act, as tradition is recovered. From The Alternative Dictionary. "Deseo darle beso negro." I want to give you the black kiss, or literally, I desire to give you. Okay, technically, I don't know if they say this in Columbia, but it sounds like something Olivero would say.

The dinner with Manuel had been pleasant enough. Mulder thought that he might have really enjoyed Manuel's company, if he had met him under other circumstances, and if, perhaps, he hadn't known for a fact that he was a drug trafficker, and quite possibly a murderer.

You'd never know just by looking at him, Mulder had thought, watching as the young man laughed at something Ethan had said, his dark eyes sparkling. But then that was pretty much the way with all of the really 'successful' killers, wasn't it? The reason they went on for so long and claimed so many victims was because they could project a pleasant, even sometimes attractive or at least harmless image. Look at Ted Bundy. How many women had gone with him willingly? Or Jeffrey Dahmer. The man had looked like the class dweeb, until he was pulling out the knife or the drill. He had no way of knowing for sure if Manuel had ever committed a violent act, but his close association with Olivero made it not only possible, but probable.

When Manuel had touched his hand to make some point during the conversation, Fox had reminded himself of this. You don't know him, Mulder. You don't know what he looks like when he's angry, or what he'd do if he was crossed. You don't know what he's capable of.

The fact that Olivero had sent him said something. Judging from the size of his operation, and his precipitous rise, Montana was not a reckless man. On a deal as important as this, he would send someone he trusted. And Mulder doubted that Olivero would trust anyone who was not nearly amoral as he was. As to whether Manuel was an actual physical threat on his own, they'd have to wait and see.

In their room, Ethan quickly used the little electronic scanner he had used on the interview room when he first met Mulder. It would be left with a courier before they went on to Montana's compound.

The room was clean. Ethan put away the device, saying, "And what do you make of the situation so far?"

Mulder kicked off his shoes and sprawled comfortably on the big bed. "He hasn't even met with us yet, and already he's starting the games."

"You got that impression, too, did you?"

Mulder nodded. "Oh, yes. Not meeting us at the airport. He's telling us that he's a busy, important man. Too many irons in the fire to neglect any of them just to welcome us. But he wants to show he appreciates us, so he sends someone special to him instead."

Ethan sat beside Mulder and started unbuttoning the FBI agent's shirt. "How special do you think he is? Is he someone that's going to be on the inside of the operation, or is he just Olivero's piece?"

Mulder watched Ethan's hands as he spoke. "I'd say he's in the loop. This venture means enough to Montana that he isn't going to want any slip-ups. He wouldn't have sent us anyone ignorant. I think Manuel might even be his second in command."

Ethan had opened the shirt. Now he stroked Mulder's chest slowly. "He's a little young for that, isn't he?"

Mulder closed his eyes as Ethan began circling around his nipples. "Age is relative. He might be young to us, but the records say he grew up on the streets, and you mature quickly in that environment, or you die. In any case, I think we have to consider him dangerous."

Ethan nodded, and leaned over, licking Mulder's right nipple. His lover sighed softly, and settled a hand against the back of his head. For a moment there was quiet as Ethan sucked the little bud to a firm peak. Then, with a gentle bite, he sat up and began removing his own shirt. "You were putting on quite a show with him in the taxi."

Mulder arched an eyebrow. In Daniel's voice he said, "Why, Con, honey! You know I don't mean it. You're the only one I love."

"Stop it." Ethan kissed him. "Not tonight, not now. I want one more night with just you, Mulder. We'll have to be careful when we're with Montana, but tonight I want Fox Mulder and not Daniel Ballard, okay?"

"I'm glad."

There was so much in those two words. Ethan wished that he'd met Mulder some other way, some way not tied into a mission. Mulder knew that Ethan had been seeing him in relation to Daniel Ballard even before they met in Skinner's office. He was a psychologist, and was bound to look for layers in the relationship they were building. Only a supremely self-confident person would be able to dismiss the possible association with the other man.

As they made love, Ethan spoke Fox's name over and over, whispering it in his ear, calling it as he climaxed, telling him again and again that he was the one he desired. When they were done, Mulder was able to go to sleep, secure in Ethan's arms. Ethan, however, lay awake for awhile, watching his lover sleep, wondering at himself for allowing someone he cared for, and quite probably loved, walk into such a dangerous situation.

<

Manuel came to their hotel a little before noon. "Good day, senors."

"Y'all believe in starting the day kind of late, don't you?" Mulder drawled. "And they say we southerners are lazy."

"Danny!" Ethan said sharply.

"Oh, pooh, Con. The boy knows I'm just teasing him," Mulder responded. He gave Manuel a smile. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't like you, right?"

Manuel returned the smile. "As you say, Senor Ballard." He thought, I hope you are careful with your teasing with Olivero. He is unpredictable in that. He may find you amusing, or he may decide to beat the impertinence out of you.

He continued, "My master thought that you would appreciate the chance to rest after your long flight."

Mulder nodded. "Yes, that was good of him. Flying fatigues me, I'm afraid. I'm just not part of the jet set." "And where, pray tell, is your master now, boyo?" Ethan asked.

"He has some business to attend to, but says..."

Ethan interrupted him, his voice hard. "Yes, he does have business to attend to, right here! I'm beginnin' to think that perhaps Mr. Montana isn't quite so keen as he let on."

"No, no, senor!" Manuel said quickly. "Please, you must not take offense! Senor Montana values you and your good regard, but things come up unexpectedly. You are a businessman, you understand this, yes?"

Ethan scowled. "A certain amount of delay I can understand, but it starts to feel like he's puttin' us off."

Mulder knew Daniel's place in a situation like this. He would try too calm and soothe his lover. "Con, darlin', cool down, now. It isn't this boy's fault if his boss man is having trouble getting things together, is it? Anyway, we have time." He tickled Ethan under the chin. "You promised to take me shopping, remember?"

Manuel jumped in eagerly. "Yes! We have many fine shops here in the city. I will be happy to take you to them. They will be proud to have friends of Senor Montana as customers."

Ethan snorted. "They can be proud to have us on our own merit, can't they?" But he softened when Mulder again tickled him, and he smiled. "Oh, all right. Let me go tend to nature, and we'll see what we can find for you, Danny."

When he was in the restroom, Manuel said quietly, "Thank you, Senor Ballard."

"For what?"

"For easing his anger. My master would be very upset with me if you and your friend were not happy."

Fox's eyebrows rose. "Well, he shouldn't hold you accountable for THAT. Anyway, don't bother to thank me. Keeping Connor Galbraith happy is my vocation." His eyes twinkled. "I was called to serve, and I answered gladly."

Manuel gave him a look that spoke of shared knowledge. "We have both chosen our place, haven't we?"

Mulder looked a little startled, then said slowly, "Yes, I suppose we have."

They had a light lunch at an outdoor cafe, then Manuel made good on his promise by taking them to the most exclusive stores in Bogota. Also as he promised, the mention of Olivero de la Montana's name was enough to have the staff of each establishment fawning in an almost embarrassing manner.

This time on the buying, Mulder showed a bit more determination and independence in his clothing choices. Once again he allowed Ethan to make most of the choices, as he had back in America. But once or twice he held firm on his pick, knowing that Daniel would be expected to show a certain amount of willfulness. Manuel watched him cajole and pout when 'Connor' tried to talk him out of buying the same shirt in three different colors. Ethan finally let himself be persuaded that Mulder needed green to make his eyes green, blue to make them blue, and brown to make them golden. That little transaction alone set the MI force back three hundred dollars, and he wondered what his control was going to have to say about that? They'd probably find some way to justify the expense as wardrobe, or uniform expenditures.

They were done by early evening, and it was agreed that the two visitors would refresh themselves and dress, and that Manuel would pick them up and bring them to meet Montana for dinner.

That evening, after a bit of debate, it was decided that Galbraith and Ballard would probably try to look a bit businesslike for their first meeting with Olivero. Ethan wore a simple, but fine, dark suit. Fox wore the dark blue blazer that had been one of his first pieces of 'Daniel wear', with a pearl grey shirt and white trousers. The businesslike effect was a bit offset by the tightness of his pants. They hugged his ass lovingly.

Manuel came for them, and Ethan said sharply, "So, he still can't take time to come for us personally, eh?"

Mulder put a hand on his arm. "Stop it, Con. Give the man a chance, will you? Don't start judging him till you've met him. I intend to have a good time tonight, and I won't have you spoiling it."

Manuel had told Olivero of Galbraith's impatience, and Ballard's peacekeeping. He understood Galbraith's irritation. He himself would have been furious if he had been in a similar situation. He decided that he couldn't afford to be any more aloof, and planned to make this evening a pleasant one for the two visitors.

Manuel took them to a small place on the outskirts of the city.. From the outside, it looked like the home of a well-to-do family, but inside it had been modified to be a discreet, high class restaurant. They were led into a private room, where Montana was waiting for them.

As he rose to greet them, both Mulder and Hunt studied him carefully. The photographs had not given a sense of how big the man was. Mulder was tall, but Olivero topped him by half a head, and his body was broad and thick. He was a massive man, but he moved with a smoothness that belied his bulk. And none of that is fat, Mulder thought.

He greeted them with a smile. "Senor Galbraith. Senor Ballard. I am Olivero de la Montana. I beg your forgiveness for the delay in our meeting. As I am sure you understand, things can come up abruptly in our line of work."

Ethan hesitated for a moment. Connor would probably be tempted to play power games along with Montana, but this deal was too important to do so for long. Finally he smiled, and shook hands. "Aye, the world has a way of..." he said with a shrug "having its way." He put a hand on Fox's shoulder. "My associate and friend, Daniel Ballard."

Olivero's grip lingered just a fraction longer than it had to. "Yes, I was expecting him. So pleased to meet you both." His hands were smooth, the nails well kept in the fashion of a man who does not have to do physical work for his living. But his early years of labor were evident in the strength of his grip, and the hardness underneath the smooth surface. "Please, sit."

Fox tried not to act surprised when Olivero pulled out his chair for him. Ethan raised an eyebrow, but did the same for Manuel before taking his seat opposite Fox. Olivero sat as a waiter brought menus and another poured water. "I wish to make a suggestion, Senor Galbraith. Tonight, let us put aside business matters. I would prefer not to discuss this in a public place, as I am sure you can understand."

Ethan nodded, sipping his water. "No objection to that. Pretty bloody sensible, actually."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. I've been listening to nothing else for the past week, and frankly, I'm tired of it." Fox gave a small smile to the handsome waiter who handed him his menu, inspiring a faint blush.

It didn't escape Olivero's notice. *He likes to play, this one. Good. The question is, does he only play if he thinks he is safe from having to make good on his unspoken promises?* Aloud he said, "Then I must do my best to amuse you tonight. When we are done here, would you like to go to a club?"

Fox sat back as if someone had made a shocking suggestion. "Would I like to go to a club?" He looked at Ethan. "He wants to know if I would like to go to a club."

Ethan smiled, shaking his head. "Senor, when it comes to Danny, 'like' is far to weak a word to use when you're talking about clubs."

"Excellent. There is a little place farther into town that is very popular. It is not always easy to get in, but I own a percentage. There will be no problem. And this will be a long week indeed if we continue to stand on ceremony. Please, call me Olivero." He smiled at Fox. "Or Vero, as my friends do."

"Yes, first names all around, eh? Much cozier. Now then..." Fox opened his menu and leaned a little closer to Olivero. "I'm going to need your help on this. My Spanish is hopeless. All I know is cerveza."

Oh, well done, Fox, Ethan thought, opening his own menu. Now he'll speak in front of you more freely, thinking you won't understand.

Olivero patiently translated almost the entire menu for the American. He enjoyed the faint whiff of Daniel's good cologne when he leaned closer to point out some item. Yes, Daniel Ballard was just his sort of meat: a well-bred, spoiled, handsome Anglo. Olivero had a penchant for Daniel's type dating back to his youth.

He resisted the urge to reach over during dinner and stroke the American's thigh. He needed to observe Galbraith a little more first, judge how he might react. Jealousy was a tricky thing.

After their meal, Manuel drove them back toward the center of town. Fox, sitting in the front seat with him, turned back to the two seated in the rear. "If this place is anything at all like the clubs back home, I am not dressed properly."

"Danny, you'll just have to deal with it," Ethan chided. "We're not going back to the hotel just so you can change clothes. You look fine."

Mulder huffed. "I can look better. Well, there are still a few things I can do so I won't look hopelessly out of place." He pulled off his tie, throwing it back at Connor. "Hold on to that for me, would you, dear?"

Connor stuffed the tie in his jacket pocket. "And why can't you keep it yourself?"

Mulder was unbuttoning his blazer. "Because I'm not going to be wearing this thing, and it might fall out of the pocket, that's why."

"Danny, I'm not sure you should."

"No, let him be comfortable." Montana smiled at Fox, his eyes glinting as the other man removed the blazer. "Please, Daniel, take off anything you like."

Fox tossed the blazer back to Connor, his eyebrows arching as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. "I won't be going any farther than this right now. I have to like you very, very much before I give free shows." He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, opening the collar with a relieved sigh. "There. I swear, sometimes those button-downs like to choke a man. Now." He looked down at himself. "Not quite as colorful as I might like, but I believe I'm presentable."

Ethan snorted. "He's fishin' for compliments again."

Half turned toward the back seat, Fox tapped a long finger on the headrest. "Well?"

"You're beautiful, Danny. As always."

Fox nodded in satisfaction, saying, "Yes. But you're prejudiced." Then he looked questioningly at Montana.

For a moment, Olivero was silent. Fox folded his arms on the seat, resting his chin on them. The pose said he was willing to wait to hear his due. At last Olivero said, "Connor speaks the truth, Daniel. He studied the other man a moment more, then said quietly, "Deseo darle beso negro."

Manuel stiffled a giggle. Connor and Mulder looked politely puzzled. Fox knew the literal interpretation of what Montana had said, but he somehow thought that it was a slang term that had a completely different level of meaning. So he just said mildly, "Well, I don't know what that means, but it sounds pretty."

Olivero's smile was wolfish. "It can be very beautiful. I hope I can show you before you leave."