Fourteen hours, Ethan thought. Jesus. How long can we stall him?

Mulder was thinking along the same lines. All right, I guess it's Showtime. "You know, I'd like a chance to try out that lovely pool--but I believe I've forgotten my swim trunks." He looked at Olivero, lowering his eyelashes and peeking through them. "Do you suppose it would be all right if I skinny dipped?"

Olivero smiled slowly, obviously turning over the idea in his mind. "No, Danny. There will be no problem at all."

"Wonderful." He stood up and strolled toward the door. "Come on, Con, and get some tan on that pale Irish skin of yours. Manuel, would you be a dear and bring some towels for later, maybe some suntan oil? If I'm here in this tropical clime, I might as well take advantage of the sunshine."

Ethan was in the room long enough to see Manuel's small snarl, and Olivero's almost casual slap before he hurried after Mulder. He caught up with his lover near the door that opened out on the pool area, knowing that he had a few seconds before Olivero joined them. "Maybe we should just head out into the jungle right now and hide till the copter comes."

"We both know that won't work," Mulder whispered. "If he didn't find us, something with teeth would. We just have to stall, Ethan. I have to stall." He gripped Ethan's arm. "Stall him from killing either of us. Whatever else happens... It'll be all right if we get out of here in one piece."

"Fox..."

"It--will--be--all right. Ethan, I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this." He smiled. "Well, didn't sign up--you people not being big on paperwork."

Olivero and Manuel came out into the hall. Manuel gave Ethan and Fox a sullen look, then went upstairs as Olivero came down the hall to them. "I don't know what has gotten into Manuel," Olivero said apologetically. "He has never taken such an attitude before." He looked at Fox curiously. "Did you have a quarrel?"

Fox gave him an innocent look, spreading a hand on his chest. "I? I am the most genial person on the face of the earth. I quarrel with no one. Perhaps he's having his monthlies."

Olivero shook his head, smiling faintly. "I will not tell him you said that. Usually I can control him, but when he is insulted by anyone other than myself..." He shrugged.

They went out onto the tiled area around the pool. Mulder strolled casually to the end near the diving board, surveyed the area with seeming satisfaction, and began to unlace his shoes. "I'm going to swim till I'm almost pruned, then soak up rays till I'm done to a turn." He tucked his socks in his shoes, then began to unbutton his shirt. "Perhaps then Olivero can send his cook home, and you can cook your specialty for our dinner tonight, Con. It's been a long time since I helped you in the kitchen."

"Depends on what you mean by 'help', Danny." As Mulder dropped his shirt and began to open his pants, Ethan said, "About the only thing Danny really likes to do in the kitchen is have sex, and even then he complains that the tiles are cold. But yeah, I suppose I could make my Mum's shepherd's pie, if there's the proper ingredients. And you can help with mincing the veg, Danny." He looked at Olivero, who was staring as Mulder skinned down to his briefs. "He'll probably end up just drinking a bit of wine and watching me work, but it's nice to have him about. You know, 'Vero," he gestured at one of the lounges, "you can sit down for the show." He started opening his own shirt.

"Perhaps I would prefer to join you."

Ethan smiled easily as he kicked off his own shoes. Fox was watching them, idly running his fingers along the waistband of his briefs. "You're welcome, of course." He laughed. "Bloody hell, listen to me! You're the host here." He leaned over and whispered, "But why not just enjoy the show for a bit? Danny likes having an audience, he does. Makes him, mmm, interested, if ya know what I mean."

Olivero considered this. Ethan could see the thoughts moving behind his dark eyes. That's right. You're trying to decide if you want to indulge yourself in one quick grab, or draw the pleasure out, teasing yourself by thinking of what you can have. Thinking that you'll take it no matter what we want. And I think you'll take the scenic route, just because you know you don't have to hurry. Olivero sat down on one of the lounges.

Ethan walked back over to Fox. Fox smiled, hooked his thumbs in his briefs, and slowly, slowly slid them down his thighs. When they reached his knees he let go, allowing them to drop to the tile, and he stepped out of them. He would have stepped away, but Ethan caught his arm, holding him. He touched Mulder, running his hand first over the other man's shoulder, then his chest. Mulder had a small, peculiar smile on his face, and his eyes... God, I've never seen so many emotions in one man's eyes, Ethan thought. There's fear, and anger, and grief. Grief? God, he's feeling the same thing I am--that we might never have a chance to really tell each other what we're feeling.

Ethan tried to tell him--tell him with his eyes, and his touch. Instead of letting his hand slide down to cover Mulder's cock, as he had been planning, he reached up, and touched the other man's cheek gently. Mulder reached up and covered his hand, pressing his cheek into Ethan's palm, and his smile grew a little, becoming more genuine, telling Ethan that he understood. Then he stepped away, turned, and dived into the pool, his long body cutting cleanly into the glittering water.

Mulder had made a lap by the time Ethan finished stripping. He was bobbing out in the middle of the water, waiting when Ethan finally dropped his own briefs, laughed, and leaped. He tucked his legs and head neatly, grabbing his own knees, and entered the water as a ball, sending up a huge splash of water. Mulder was spluttering when Ethan came up, grinning and panting. He shook his head like a dog, dark hair whipping, then said, "Cannonball, Danny, and don't ya say a word about gettin' splashed. Ya were already wet."

Fox looked back at Olivero. "My child bride. He's a fine, strapping young man, but inside he's about twelve."

"Damn cradle robber," said Ethan cheerfully. He'd been wading toward Fox--now he pounced. Fox tried to back away, but the water hampered him, and he ended up with Ethan plastered to him--arms around his chest, legs around his waist.

"Oh, fine. Vero, you didn't tell me you had leeches in your pool. I guess there's only one way to handle this." He lifted his legs, and simply dropped under the surface of the water, taking Ethan with him.

The water boiled as the two men rolled, wrestled, and thrashed. It was Ethan who surfaced first. He drew in raw, whooping gulps of air. Gasping, he said, "That shite can always hold his breath longer than me." He laughed as Fox, much less frantic for oxygen, came up near him. "Makes him pretty fantastic in the oral lovin' department, though." Fox just smiled, stretched out, and began to float on his back. "And I wish I knew how he could do that. Me butt always drops, and I end up swallowing half the damn pool."

"Why worry?" Fox drawled. "I haven't peed in the water."

Ethan swam after Fox, approached, and dived under him. As he passed under him, Fox suddenly lost his serene air by jerking and yelping. "The son of a bitch goosed me!" he fumed.

Olivero shook his head as he watched the two men disport themselves in the water. It was like watching a couple of young teenagers, just horsing around, perhaps in one of their back yards. Then Connor firmly wrapped an arm around Danny's neck and kissed him. Daniel bent to him, his long body pliant, lips parting to accept Connor's tongue. Perhaps not any pair of boys.

Connor moved Daniel back till they reached the wall of the pool. There Danny parted his thighs, allowing Connor to move into the space, and begin rubbing against him.

He reached down and squeezed the awakening bulge of his cock. Had his own Duncan been like this once? He remembered the brown haired, hazel-eyed youth. He remembered the first time he'd seen him, stepping out of the car at the edge of the field where he worked, leaning against the vehicle, his expression sullen and contemptuous as his mother and stepfather received the obesciences of the other workers.

He remembered how Duncan had come over to where he, alone, continued to work. He remembered the first time he'd mentally taken stock of Duncan Broussard, at close range--the slender grace of his body, his pale skin, his silky hair, his pouting mouth and golden eyes.

The memories flowed. The flirtation in the brightly lit kitchen. The later visit in the warm, earthy greenhouse--and what they did there. He was so full of bravado, trying to cover up the fact that he was unsure. Bragging of his exploits at school, and then discovering what sex with a real man was...

Ethan was undulating against Fox, watching Olivero over his lover's shoulder. He put his lips against Fox's ear and whispered, "Something's going on. He's just staring. I haven't seen him blink for several minutes. It's like he's in a trance."

"As fucked up as he is, occasional spells of something like catatonia wouldn't be surprising," Fox whispered in response.

"Maybe he'll stay like that for awhile."

Fox gripped his shoulders more tightly. "Babe, I don't know it this is a good thing or not. He's excited. The psychosis is probably intensifying. He could break over the edge into a full-blown 'incident' at any moment."

"Shit." Manuel came out of the house, his arms full of towels. The young man noticed them, and one corner of his mouth curled upward, almost reluctantly. "Manuel," he called softly. "You'd best check on Olivero. I think something may be wrong."

Frowning, Manuel went to Olivero, bent to put his face on level with his master's, and studied him. He sighed, sitting up. "You need not worry, Senor Connor." He shrugged. "Sometimes he goes into himself for awhile."

Fox and Ethan had moved apart, and now both were standing at the edge of the pool, watching the pair. Fox said, "Shouldn't you wake him up?"

"Oh, no!" Manuel shook his head. "It is something like the sleep walking. It is not good to wake him suddenly." He touched his own cheek, grimacing. "I learned this through experience. We will just let him sit. It never lasts more than an hour or so."

Fox and Ethan exchanged looks, then got out of the pool and went to where Manuel had taken a seat in a lounger beside Olivero. They both took towels and began to dry themselves. After a moment, Fox said, "How long has this been going on?"

"Since I came with him."

Fox finished drying himself, hung the towel around his neck, and sat naked on a lounger on the other side of Olivero. "Dear, heaven knows I have wide boundaries for what constitutes 'normal behavior', but this strikes me as serious."

Manuel gave him an opaque look. "He has me to take care of him when these happen."

Ethan went to stand behind Fox. "Hasn't he seen anyone about this? Hasn't anyone suggested that he speak to a professional?"

Manuel snorted. "Senor, who would suggest to Senor Montana that he might be..." he clicked his tongue, "un poco loco?"

Connor shook his head. "Right." They'd have to be as crazy as Montana to take that risk. "Danny, love, if you're going to stay out here, you need some lotion. I don't want a repeat of that Hawaii incident." He looked at Manuel. "He fell asleep, and the wind blew away his umbrella. Sun poisoning. It's just a damn good thing we weren't on the nude beach. My sweetheart was miserable for a week, so I was miserable." He held up his hands. "You brought sun screen?"

Manuel tossed him a plastic bottle. It sailed within inches of Olivero's face. He didn't flinch, or blink. Ethan checked the bottle. "UV protection. Very good. Get comfortable, love." Fox stretched out on the lounge. Ethan pulled the towel from around Fox's neck and draped it over his lover's crotch. "Shade the tender bits, remember?" He squirted some lotion into his palm, rubbed his hands together, and began to stroke the lotion over Mulder.

Manuel watched as Connor's strong hands worked at his lover's flesh, spreading a thin sheen of oil over his body. His eyes traced the jagged white streak that ran along Daniel's shoulder. He reached across, and touched the smooth, shiny line. Daniel flinched, and Connor eyed him sharply. "I had heard about this," he said quietly.

Mulder turned his head to look at Manuel. Suddenly his heart was pounding. Ethan's hand on his back remained relaxed, but Fox could feel the tension rolling off his lover. This might very well be the most dangerous part of their mission to date. Rollie's work was being put to the test. Manuel was actually touching the fake scar, and had obviously heard about it. If there was a flaw in the illusion--they were dead.

"What," said Mulder, his voice cool, "have you heard?"

Manuel shrugged. "Surely you know that there is gossip the clubs, Danny."

"Look, this happened back home when I was a stripling. I fail to see how word of it managed to make it's way to the back waters of South America."

Manuel was still smiling, but his eyes were flat. "Who can understand noteriaty? You and Connor have," he cocked his head, "shared yourself with others." Again his finger stroked over the latex scar tissue. Ethan had a vision of the appliance peeling up in the wake of Manuel's finger. It made his balls draw up tight. It didn't happen, though. Rollie Tyler was a pro--his work didn't shift until you wanted it to.

"How did this happen?"

"You don't know? You seem to know so much." Mulder didn't bother to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Manuel had always made him edgy--every moment he became more convinced that the young man was as dangerous in his own way as his master.

"A riding accident, perhaps?" Manuel's voice was falsely commiserate. "Polo pony? Your hunter refused a jump?"

"You really want to know?"

Ethan put a hand on Mulder's arm. "Danny, don't. This always upsets you."

"No, Con. Better to have the truth out than have him speculating. God knows what he'd come up with. It was done," he continued, "with a bit of sharpened metal by a very large, very nasty man who didn't know when to take no for an answer, and he still didn't get what he wanted."

"Very traumatic, Danny. People came to your rescue?" Mulder said nothing. "How lucky you were that this occurred where there was help at hand." He stared into Mulder's eyes. "You cannot always count on assistance."

Ethan's voice was harsh. "Danny always has a protector close by."

It became quiet as the unspoken hung heavily in the air. Even the small, ever present sounds of the surrounding jungle were muted. Then there was a slow, deep, indrawn breath, and they all looked to Olivero. He blinked, then slowly turned his head right, then left--as if loosening tendons that had grown stiff through long disuse. When he turned his gaze to Ethan and Mulder, he was once again focused. "I am sorry, my friends. Sometimes I become distracted." He sighed. "Memories--they are very powerful." He looked at Mulder, his gaze thoughtful. "They color everything in our world, and they are with us always."

They couldn't draw the sunbathing session out for more than a half hour. Connor's care for Danny was notorious, and he would never have allowed his lover to risk sunburn, so they had to go inside.

Between the pool side respite, and Ethan and Fox's determined chit-chat, they managed to make it to six, and Ethan declared it was time to fix dinner.

They'd done this often before back at the apartment in America. Ethan would prepare dinner, while Fox sat by watching, occasionally performing some small, simple task. Those had been pleasant, almost peaceful times. This couldn't be more different. It's like standing a few feet away from a wild animal, cutting up its meat, and knowing that its thinking that it would much rather have you for dinner.

Ethan kept up a smooth line of talk, explaining that they wouldn't get the full effect of his Mum's best recipe, since there were no leeks, and she always insisted on Irish lamb, but he supposed South American would do well enough. "The secret's in the gravy, though, yeah? Got to cook it long and slow, get it nice and brown, and make sure it loses that floury taste."

"Strange." Olivero was sitting at the kitchen table with Manuel, both sipping wine, watching the other two men as they moved about the kitchen.

Mulder paused, poking a fork into a pot of potatoes to judge their doneness. He'd hated to put down the knife he'd used to peel them. "Well, we're not exactly middle America, but I hardly think..."

"No. I just meant that I have heard something of you two, but I never would have expected such domesticity."

"Well, we're old marrieds, aren't we?" Ethan hugged Fox from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, eliciting a small, secretive smile.

"Don't distract me, or you'll have lumps in the potatoes."

"Yer worth a few lumps, Danny, m'love."

"This is very charming," Olivero said softly, and there was no irony in his voice. "Very touching, to be so close, and so comfortable with each other--to belong so completely. You do belong to each other?"

Fox silently put down the masher he'd been using and put his hands over Ethan's which were folded across his belly. Ethan leaned his cheek against Fox's back, and there was no playfulness in his voice as he said, "Let there be no doubt about that."

Fox closed his eyes briefly, hearing the conviction that rang in the younger man's voice. He's good--he's very good at acting, but so help me, I think that's Ethan speaking, and not 'Connor'.

"I wish I had that." Fox's eyes snapped open, and he felt Ethan's grip tighten. But Olivero continued. "What you two have found together--to have someone who belongs to you so completely--forever. I thought I had that--once, long ago."

There was raw pain in Olivero's voice. If Mulder didn't know the man's nature and history, he would have felt sympathetic. It was quiet for a moment. Silences that went on too long could lead places you didn't want to go, so Mulder spoke. "Tragic love affair?"

"You could say that."

"Did her parents disapprove?" Manuel made an almost inaudible sound of disgust. "All right, his parents."

"In fact, they did. That wasn't the problem, though."

"What was the problem?"

"Danny!" Ethan squeezed him in warning, and this time he meant it.

"It's all right, Connor. He's honest about his curiosity. I'm sorry, but I do not speak of this. Let me just say that--the world came between us."

"Has time healed the wound?"

Olivero's eyes were bleak. "It is still as raw as the day it was inflicted--Duncan."