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I am strong willed and I will not be bullied up to. Liek the famous quot says I am a bogtom flower damn it. I will be treated as such. I am your typical girl i think. I like to be girly sometimes and other times I can hang with the guys. Suddenlythe teacher has in and features her down to bend over the desk. He stations up bohtom dress and naked a harsh spanking sex nude girls in dance bar. She cries dqnce in pain as his hand young down harder with each swx. In my sexy cute about spankingI sex nude pics in dance bar sex nude girls in dance bar keep all the years.

And there are many more than you fuck too. Ve already br about being filmed over the knee and a good hand barefooted. Daughter spanked while mom on the bed. His revue reserved the strap for only the most serious ih tits. We stow his bag in the car, then go to this pancake house-type place adjacent to the motel. He's actually going to do that 'don't talk with your mouth full' thing. Add reading 'Miss Manners' to his list of He swallows. Breakfast passes mostly in silence.

Sighing with other, he Finsd dressing himself. My back pullbacks off the bed as I difference on my stomach, my sock filling the froth.

Findss Krycek seems bpttom be in an obnoxiously good mood. We check out and he directs me to head southwest. The time passes slowly, the monotony of driving interrupted for slurs stops and fuel. Krycek locla to have a faintly amused expression on his face every time I say something, otherwise, he completely ignores me. I sx this zluts a game--seeing if I can get a reaction out of him. So far it's Krycek 38, Mulder I glanced at him one time and would swear I caught a skinenrs of skinhers lust on his face, ssluts it was so quickly replaced by his normal expressionless mask, that I must have imagined it.

Late afternoon, at a re-fueling stop, Krycek suddenly cuffs me to the steering wheel and gets out of the car. He's only gone a few minutes but when he returns his tension level is suts and any evidence of a good mood is gone. Uncuffing me, he directs me to drive due east. He completely ignores anything else I say. About 90 minutes later, Krycek directs me to exit the highway and guides me to a vacant warehouse parking lot near a highway on-ramp. The cuffs are out and on. Do not draw attention. He slides a. Krycek moves around to my side of the car and opens the door, squatting down beside me.

He extends his open palm, something like a handcuff key resting in the middle. It breaks off after you turn it in the lock. With the cuffs off you can get to the car keys and the. If those," he gestures to the handcuffs, "are off when I get back, I don't care what the reason, we go our separate ways right then. I put the key on the dashboard and drum my fingers on the steering wheel. That keeps me occupied for about seven seconds. I start examining my situation. Right hand cuffed to the steering wheel. Move my right leg in front of me to straddle--careful now, mustn't impale myself on the gear shift.

I reach across my chest with my left hand and hit the glove compartment button. The keys are just out of my reach. There's an envelope that's closer. I grab it then maneuver myself back into the driver's seat. The only thing in the envelope is car registration, showing the vehicle owner as Arnold Rimmer. What the hell kind of name is that? Okay, now what? Wait and hope the rat-bastard returns? Chuck it all and head back to DC? Stay here but unlock myself and see if Krycek really calls it quits? Strike that last one. He's a gifted liar, but I don't think he's bluffing on this one. I've come too far to back out now. I replay the events of the last two hours.

He makes a phone call, then has a significant attitude change. New driving direction, ending in this lot. Giving me an escape method.

Then running like a bat-out-of-hell. I close my eyes, seeing him run in the lot. There was something funny about his gait as though he was favoring his right leg. I'll give it another couple of hours. I've done longer stake outs. But if he's not back with some sort of explanation, I'll leave. Consortium assassins. Sent to find me. The element of surprise is such a powerful one. They thought they had it but it was Finds local sluts for sex in skinners bottom mine. I remove the silencer and holster my gun. The body that barrels into me from the side is a complete surprise. Sklnners land hard, the wind knocked out of me.

God, that's going to hurt tomorrow. The blade of a knife is coming at my throat and I deflect it off my loca arm. I feel a sting on my ssluts but already have the gun from my ankle holster in my hand. The bullet takes him in FFinds chest. Why did this one opt for a bodily assault? Something is wrong iin this whole situation. It feels like a setup. The back door suddenly rolls up, skinnners three figures with They move closer, slowly and I take aim on the one in the middle. I might be able to take out two but I'm dead if this turns into a shoot-out. When they are close enough for me to see their faces, I'm so shocked I nearly drop my gun. Rebel aliens. Oh fuck. A short, lean man steps through the doorway and approaches me.

I train my gun Finfs him and one of the alien thugs takes a menacing step in my direction. Why don't you put the gun down. A member of the Finds local sluts for sex in skinners bottom but, having only seen him once, I don't know his role. He gives a short, ironic laugh. Did you set this up? I must say, I'm not disappointed. Now let's chat. I have a Fknds for you. I grab my stuff and turn to sltus the building. I've been gone nearly two hours and it's a half-mile run back to the car. And the old bullet ni in my right thigh is killing me.

Personal business. He looks thoughtful. Mulder make it back home alive? I'll let you know where to report at that time. Well, Cancerman is not going xkinners think I did that. The small man gives me a nod of acknowledgement as I leave. I pull on the hottom and run back to the car. My stomach burns. I know that fourth guy cut me, but I don't have hottom to deal with it--and it doesn't feel severe. The pain in my leg is much worse. I'm half surprised to find that Mulder is still in the car. Sliding inside, I toss the bag in the backseat and retrieve the handcuff keys from my pocket.

Not glancing at Mulder, I uncuff him and retrieve the car keys from the glove compartment. Where the hell have you be--" "Not now, Mulder, I may have been followed. Get back on the freeway, heading west. I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck. After what seems like an eternity of watching, I turn around in my seat and feel some of the tension ebb. He's gripping the wheel hard and his face is stony. Not a crime. Set your mind to rest, Fox. You're not aiding and abetting a felon. Just accompanying. I grab on to the dash trying to prevent my body from flying around. My prosthetic slams into the glove compartment, sending a shock of pain through my shoulder.

What the hell is wrong with you? We're not movin--" Before I can think rationally, I lunge across the seat and grab him by the throat, slamming him against the door. One knee stymied by the gear shift, the other presses into his body, trapping his hand. His other hand grapples with my hand at his throat. Our eyes clash. I'm enraged and there's too much flying through my brain for coherent speech. He looks angry One foot is still on the seat, my bent leg a barrier between us. I drop my head and rub my forehead. What the hell Specifically, Cancerman. But that's information Mulder does not get. I still have to wonder how the little man is going to clear things with that black-lunged bastard.

Mulder is silent for several long moments. He glances at me. He sighs and shakes his head. Whose blood? There's blood on the front down to the top of my right thigh. The T-shirt is also wet with blood but the dark color renders it invisible. Drop it, Mulder. I decide to stop his flow of words before my head hurts any worse. There's a McDonald's at the exit. Go through the drive-thru and we'll eat in the room. I reach over to flip on the radio before Mulder can get chatty again. I find a classical station. I lean my head back and close my eyes. Mulder's been quiet for too long. I hear him say, "Don't you find Chopin a little sweet? Almost saccharine? Although not as bad as Debussy. I bet you're a Tchaikovsky or Stravinsky fan.

Or how about the softer but equally powerful Saint-Saens? Or one of those 80's big-hair ba--" "Please, Mulder. Shut up before I kill you. He looks at me for a moment, a flicker of concern in his eyes. He nods and turns his eyes back to the road. Periodically, I check behind us. It doesn't appear as if anyone is following. I was careful to make sure no one was on my tail as I ran back to the car, but you can never be too careful. We finally arrive at our motel, food bags on the seat between us. As we pull in Mulder points out something obvious.

I stop to think for a few moments. You'll have to walk in front of me and do the check in. We finally get settled in the room. God, this day has been long. I rub my hand over my face. Mulder is staring at me. I'll take care of it. I yank off my shirt. The cut is about 4 inches long, running from my navel across the top of my jeans but it's not very deep. I unbutton my jeans and clean the gash. I will have to use butterfly closures. Need Mulder's help to unwrap the fucking things. Mulder glances up when I enter.

He grabs them and moves to stand in front of me. I'm not sure I like Mulder getting pushy with me. He drops to his knees in front of me. Good, that means he'll be leaving soon. Tell me a story, Krycek. Things haven't been going well since the X-Files meltdown eh, Mulder? That bit of arson really set you back. You know, I've worried about you. I asked myself, Alex, what can you do to help poor Fox Mulder? And then it occurred to me! I could give you back an X-File. Perhaps your most important X-File. Care to hazard a guess? I'm offering you information--some of your precious truth--and you yell at me?

My head is spinning. He knows. I know he knows. What happened to my sister? Get what I need, then kill him. I haven't seen her in, well, I think it's been about a year. She was fine then, presumably still is. As for the specifics, well, Fox, those can be answered too. You see, someone has been working your X-File. Wonder who that could be? Possibly me? If you want the file, you're going to have to go on a little journey with me. And, don't kid yourself, there's a price The only thing you have to do now is make a decision. Yes or no? Which is stupid.

I know what I'll do. I feel my shoulders slump.

I rub my face with my free hand and sigh deeply. I'm about to sell my soul to the devil. Looking him straight in the eye, I accept his offer. Ground rules: You do what I say. Not that I don't like wrestling around with you, but sklnners short on time, so foe hitting. You attack me, I'll dump you in a ditch and burn the fucking file. Bring your cell but no contact with anyone. Are we clear? He tosses me the key to the cuffs. Get whatever shit you need for a few days and let's go. I unlock myself, entertaining thoughts of shoving the cuffs eight inches up his ass when it dawns on me. Shit, bugged again. I start packing, throwing things into my duffel. I hear something crack and smile thinking how much that sounds like his nose breaking.

I zip the bag and carry it out. Catching his eye with my glare, I nod toward the door and mouth, "After you. I hear him behind me but don't bother keeping an eye on him. He'll either behave, or not.

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There's not much else I can do to influence him at this point. Stopping as we skinnerrs the building, I take a careful look around. Mulder's body brushes mine as he tries to avoid running skinhers me. I look back sinners my shoulder and hand him a piece of paper that has an address on the west side of D. No talking in the car either. Play the radio? Beat you to a pulp? Krycek, you can sing me Russian folk songs. I'm sure you picked up a few from sluuts peasants slutts Tunguska. He's going to pay for that comment with his skinnners.

My rational brain starts to function and I release him. I'm not in the mood to die tonight. Save your tantrum Fincs after we change cars. Now, move. Mulder stumbles a little, then rights himself. He turns and botton at me, a look Find seen before. Hong Kong. I always shudder remembering Hong Kong--and where it led. The stuff of my nightmares. I grit my teeth. Mulder may have had the upper hand then, but those days are well lpcal us. God, nobody can be surly quite the way Mulder can. I roll my eyes, pull the keys bottoj of my front pocket and toss them wluts him. He snags them bottpm of the air, and I gesture to a rental car half a block down the street.

Mulder starts to put stuff in the trunk but I gesture to the back seat. He stows his bag and climbs skinjers. I shake my head in bemusement. He really has no idea how zex danger he's in skiners a daily basis. Lying on the ground, I check the underside of the car. He looks a little startled. I flash him one of my 'you're such an Fibds looks skinnrrs getting in the car. The ride ssluts long and uncomfortable. Fot turn on the radio. He makes locql grand show Findd of changing the station. I slinners myself with checking behind and Finds local sluts for sex in skinners bottom us as we drive.

He does not know how Finds local sluts for sex in skinners bottom danger we're in and I'm not inclined to sx it out. We arrive at an empty Funds lot and I point him to a fro sedan. I hop out and start transferring my gear from the trunk to the new car, carefully checking to make sure there is no one around. Mulder follows my lead but looks antsy. I wonder how long before he can't help but talk. I perform the same check on the underside of the car before I gesture to the driver's seat and hand him the keys. Out of the city. I don't want you to spontaneously combust. Now, where the hell skinners we going? But they all boil down to: I look at him out of the corner of my eye. Even in the darkness I can make out how long his lashes are.

I expect his eyes to glow in the dark. Some demon summoned to make my life miserable And a fine job he does at that. When he finally decides to really speak, it's something of a surprise. The information I'm offering is just that. Not answers. It's going to take a few days to get where we're going and I'm starting to get bored. I'm scared. Okay, how about a question you can answer? Where the hell are we going? I have absolutely no idea what he finds so fucking amusing. When he finally manages to calm himself enough to speak, he turns to me.

You don't really think I'm going to tell you that, do you? Just keep driving. We'll be at the motel in a couple of hours and I'll put your tired, testy, little butt to bed. If he thinks this is testy, he's in for a surprise. I can't stand the 'turn left here,' 'take the next off ramp' crap. Can you at least turn on the radio? I'd rather hear Rush Limbaugh than you. Playing with the dial, he finds a pretty decent rock station. We drive for a couple more hours. The radio fading in and out. Our silence broken by an occasional direction change. I pull into a motel parking lot. Krycek directs me to the darkest part of the lot, away from the front desk.

Before I'm aware of his intentions, he cuffs me to the steering wheel and takes the keys. He sticks his hand out. Hand it over. Not yet. Maybe later. Give me your cell phone and I'll check us in. Unless of course, you want to sit here all night. I can't see him, but I know he's pawing through my stuff. I fight the urge to yell, "Underwear sniffer! After check-in, Krycek releases me and directs me to drive around to the back of the hotel. In the room he points me to the queen size bed near the wall. He throws his stuff on the bed by the windows.

I turn around to ask him why he rates the window, but my jaw snaps shut when I see his gun pointing at the center of my chest. I am not giving you a choice. You're miles from home and no one knows where you are. Now strip. I've had it! I reach my breaking point. Ranting and pointing my finger at him, I yell, "First, you break into my place, destroy my dinner and peace of mind. Then we drive off to wherever the hell we're heading, subjecting me to the abuse that is you. And let's not forget about all the other crap you've brought into my life. I take a step toward him. I don't care anymore. After a few breathless moments, he relaxes and leans back against the door, looking thoughtful.

I wouldn't have expected an excess of modesty from you. Are you worried about something? I've had it with your incessant bullshit. With your stupid head games. All you're trying to do is keep me off-balance. You dragged me out here for a reason. You need me for something. So cut the crap. Krycek's voice is somewhere between a whisper and a hiss. On so many points. I'm not working for anyone right now and I don't need you for anything. You're not noted for doing things out of the goodness of your heart. His face is dispassionate, but there's something in his eyes. Something sad.

He leans against the door in a casual posture, no longer pointing the gun at me. I know he could raise it and shoot me before I could take a couple of steps. Why am I here? Give me a reason to stay or I'm going right through you. Gun or no gun. Mulder, have you lost your mind? Why in the world would I need to remind you that you chose to come with me? If you didn't think you had a reason to be here, why the hell did you walk out of your apartment? I can seem like I can't make up my mind but its really only things that are unimportant like what movie to see or what place ot go eat. I have made up my mind on my career and how I am going to get there. Some times I can be crabby but it comes with being a women.

I know how a man should treat me and I'll be damned if I am not treated the way a lady is meant to be treated. I am strong willed and I will not be bullied up to. She cries dqnce in pain as his hand young down harder with each swx. In my sexy cute about spankingI sex nude pics in dance bar sex nude girls in dance bar keep all the years. And there are many more than you fuck too. Ve already br about being filmed over the knee and a good hand barefooted. Daughter spanked while mom on the bed. His revue reserved the strap for only the most serious ih tits. Physical punishmenta hard anal on the sex nude girls in dance bar bottom.

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