sermocinare (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sermocinare) wrote2009-11-04 11:49 am
sermocinare) wrote2009-11-04 11:49 am
Pyramids? In the Antarctic?
A friend asked for some Watchmen/X-Files crossover fic, specifically Adrian/Fox, because, well, hotness combined with brains times two equals unf. And so, this came to be.
Title: What happens in the Antarctic...
Fandom: Watchmen/X-Files crossover
Characters: Adrian Veidt/Fox Mulder
'verse: Movieverse for Watchmen, somewhere around Season 5 for X-Files.
Rating: R
Warnings: Crack.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the boys. I just abuse them.
Summary: When one of his sources tells him about strange things happening in the Antarctic, Mulder decides to investigate. What he finds there is strange even by his standards...
Getting to Antarctica was always difficult, even at the best of times, but the information and photographs his informant had given him were reason enough for Fox Mulder to attempt the trip even in the dead of winter. Apparently, his informant had stumbled upon a top-secret government facility, or possibly even something bigger than that. There were strange energy readings, and some genetic material Scully had analyzed and declared unlike anything that occurred in nature. Might very well be alien. Still, it hadn't been enough to convince her - or the Bureau - that she absolutely needed to come along on this trip.
Mulder envied her, now that he was out here, in the dead of arctic night, in a snowmobile whose GPS system was for some reason not working any longer, trying to find this mysterious spot with the help of a compass and a map. Not that a map was that much use, seeing how one of the major scenic features of the Antarctic seemed to be its lack of scenery.
"Damn." He gave the GPS system another whack. What the hell was wrong with this thing? Well, judging from its dying words, he wasn't far from... whatever it was, so he should stumble upon it some time soon. Or, of course, he could be driving in circles, until the fuel ran out, and he would freeze to death in the icy cold.
Just as Fox had resigned himself to the fact that yes, an icy death was imminent, the headlights of his snowmobile hit something. Saying that it stood out a bit from the bland white snowy planes would be like saying that people at the FBI thought he was a bit off his rocker.
“What the…?”
Fox had seen many weird things during his career, which was probably the reason his first thought wasn’t “this is it, I’m going insane” but rather “wouldn’t this look better in the desert?”
But, looking on the bright side, it did rule out the possibility of this being a government facility. Unless, of course, the US government had lied about national debt big time, and actually did have money stashed away somewhere to build something that looked, for all accounts, like some ancient Egyptian temple. In the Antarctic. But no, it just wasn’t their style. Mostly because they didn’t have one. Unless you considered “boring” to be an architectural style, anyway.
Driving down the lane of stone-carved rams (rams? Really? All right, maybe he was going insane) and through the giant pylons, Mulder stopped the snowmobile in front of what he guessed was the main entrance of the pyramid-like structure.
--
Adrian was sitting in his chair in front of the wall of TVs, eyes flickering from one screen to the next, lingering just long enough to get a picture of what was going on on each one. Nothing of interest, mostly. Things seemed to be rather quiet at the moment. Bubastis was lying at his feet, lazily licking her silky fur, having given up on the spectacle, or rather lack thereof, in front of her already. One of the screens flickered, switching to a different feed, and something caught Adrian’s attention out of the corner of his eye. This was definitely not the picture that was supposed to come up. Instead of showing the empty courtyard in front of the pyramid’s entrance, it showed a snowmobile. Which was just now parking in front of said entrance.
“Now that’s interesting, don’t you think?” Adrian murmured, and Bubastis pricked her ears, eyes swivelling towards the screens again.
“I certainly wasn’t expecting any visitors.”
He stretched his shoulders, getting up from the chair:
“What do you say, should we take a look?”
With silent dignity, Bubastis got up from the floor and padded in the direction of the airlock that served as an entrance to the pyramid. Adrian followed, not bothering to switch off the screens. This certainly was interesting. Who would come out here, uninvited, in the middle of the Antarctic winter? And what was even more interesting was: why?
--
“I hope someone’s home,” Mulder said to himself, shutting the door of the snowmobile. And someone better be, else he would probably be stuck out here, seeing how the fuel tank was dangerously empty by now. Bracing himself against the icy wind, he crossed the short distance towards the large sliding door. There was a keypad next to it, with a red and green button, and underneath it, another, larger red button. “Let’s hope that’s not the self-destruct.” Reaching out, he jabbed the button with gloved fingers, and waited.
--
Flicking on the camera that was placed above the entrance, Adrian looked at the screen, and frowned in disappointment. Whoever it was apparently didn’t care much for revealing themselves, since the hooded figure in front of the door was turning away, wrapping its arms around its body. Well, it was rather cold out there. Waiting another ten seconds just for good measure, he finally punched in the code that opened the front door of the airlock.
“Whoever it is, they better not be annoying. Or boring.” He smirked down at Bubastis, who rumbled and shook her head, something Adrian never quite knew if to interpret as agreement, or rather the feline version of rolling her eyes at him. But still, no company was better than boring company.
The mysterious visitor stepped into the airlock, which immediately hissed closed behind it, and pushed back the hood of its parka. His parka, Adrian corrected himself. The man in the airlock was about his age, he guessed, with mussed-up dark hair, through which he now ran a hand that had previously been stripped off its thick glove. And quite an attractive face. Adrian allowed himself a small smile while absent-mindedly petting Bubastis’ head. He stepped back a few paces, crossing his arms behind his back. No need to scare the newcomer by standing right in front of the door. Bubastis, on the other hand, didn’t consider manners and stayed where she was, eyeing the door expectantly.
--
Fox stuffed his gloves into the pockets of his parka and unzipped it. Now that the air in here was slowly warming up, he could finally feel his face again. He made a mental note to leave the investigations in the Antarctic for the summer next time something like this came up. Eyeing the obviously placed camera, he stomped his feet on the ground, shaking snow off his boots while waiting for the inner door to open.
When it finally did, he almost wanted to turn around and take the other door again. Just a few feet away from him was standing… well, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was. A large cat. A large, purple cat. With long ears that ended in tufts. A purple cat.
It probably belonged to the man who was standing a few steps behind it, wearing black dress pants, a black turtleneck and a purple suit jacket. What was it with the purple? The man was smiling at him, a calm, amicable smile that was clearly engineered to put people at ease. And it worked.
“Please, don’t worry,” the man said, voice as smooth as the smile, stepping forward to place a hand on the cat’s head, “she doesn’t eat humans.” A corner of his mouth twitched upwards, just for a second: “Usually.” The cat-thing sat down, licking its paw, obviously not interested in dining on him, and the blonde man went on: “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Adrian Veidt, and this,” he petted the animal again, “is Bubastis.” Raising an eyebrow at him, the man – Veidt – went on: “And who are you? And, more importantly, what are you doing here?”
--
The other man’s reaction to Bubastis was certainly amusing. But then, most people who saw her for the first time were… impressed. Well, all right, impressed and usually more than a little scared, at first. She was rather large, he had to admit.
And now for the interesting part. Adrian watched the other man rummage around in his parka, and finally produce something that he immediately recognized as an FBI badge. Holding out the badge, the man cleared his throat before answering: “Fox Mulder. I’m with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
Adrian’s brow furrowed. Why had the FBI sent anybody out here? And what was even more irritating, why hadn’t he known about this beforehand? He usually knew well enough in advance if any government agencies or representatives were about to pay him a visit. Considering what he was doing here, it always paid to have eyes and ears everywhere. Well, if worse came to worse, he would just have to remind Mr. Mulder that the Antarctic was neutral territory and therefore, the FBI had no jurisdiction whatsoever. Which would be a pity, because he didn’t want the man to leave just yet.
“As to why I’m here, well…” there was a short pause, in which Adrian allowed himself to look slightly impatient, “we came across reports of unusual energy readings, and since there hadn’t been anything here a week ago, decided to investigate. After all, it is a bit unusual.” Mulder waved his hand in a vague gesture: “All of this. Appearing out of nowhere.”
--
And just for a moment, there, the calm façade of Veidt’s face slipped. It was only a short moment, almost too short to notice, but Fox had been dealing with this kind of thing for too long to be fooled by a poker face.
“Excuse me?” The short moment of sheer surprise had passed, and now the other man’s face – which was something to look at, but why the hell was he noticing this right now? – once again showed a pleasant, noncommittal smile: “I think you must be mistaken, Agent Mulder. This facility has been here for almost five years now. We started construction back in 1980.”
Now, it was Mulder’s turn for a moment of utter confusion. Had that guy just said 1980? “But it’s 1997!”
Veidt inclined his head, giving him a look that reminded Fox of a predatory bird. A very irritated predatory bird. “No, it’s 1985. Unless, of course…” he drew a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling and running both of his hands, which up until now had been folded behind his back, through his immaculately coiffed hair: “Oh, no.”
Oh no indeed. Fox grimaced, shrugging off his parka while his thoughts raced to the obvious conclusion to this mystery. “Time travel” he murmured to himself. And time travel was always bad news. Veidt had turned around, and was walking towards a section of the walls that held a dizzying array of TV screens, all showing something different. There were several that looked like news programs, some movie, and was that a porno over there?
“So,” Fox said, catching up with the man in purple, “I take it you thought this was 1985?”
Without even turning his head, Veidt answered, his voice carrying an unnerving certainity: “It is 1985.” He made a sweeping gesture at the screens: “At least according to this. Agent Mulder,” now he turned, his expression thoughtful and looking a bit absent, “would you mind answering a few questions?”
--
This was not good. Not good at all. The agent was right, this probably was time travel, but it might be even worse than that. But to determine that, Adrian had to get some facts straight first. His first hint had been the suspicious lack of recognition Mudler had shown when he had mentioned his name.
“Tell me, does the name Dr. Manhattan mean anything to you?”
Mulder shook his head, face blank: “No. Is he a scientist?”
Yes, it was worse than time travel. Still, it couldn’t hurt to get one more answer to confirm his suspicion.
“Who is, I mean, was President of the United States in 1985?”
“Ronald Reagan.” The dark-haired agent narrowed his eyes at him: “You’ve got an idea what’s happened here, haven’t you? And it’s probably not time travel. Or rather, not just time travel.”
Adrian smiled, if a bit painfully. It seemed like the FBI in whatever dimension this man came from employed people who were a bit brighter than the avarage agent from his dimension.
“Yes, I think I know what has happened here, and no, it’s not just time travel.” Now it was his turn to grimace: “It’s interdimensional time travel. Meaning, somehow the dimension I, and this building, are from is intersecting with the dimension you hail from. Tell me,” he raised his eyebrows, regarding Mulder with curiosity, “have you ever heard of quantum mechanics? String theory? Parallel universes?”
Mulder nodded, which again made Adrian smile a little: “You think that somehow, the boundaries between our two parallel dimensions broke down, and now there’s some sort of bubble that extends from your universe into mine?” Adrian nodded, and the agent went on: “But how did this happen? And why here? I mean, there are spots that are reputed to be closer to other dimensions, or rather where the boundaries are weaker, like for example the Bermuda Triangle, but there’s never been any mention of the Antarctic.”
Adrian sighed: “I’m afraid that in this case, I’m your culprit. You see, this,” he made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the room and all beyond, “is a research facility. We, that is to say my science team and I, are working on possible sources of alternative energy, among other things. We have been researching tachyons for some time now, their properties and possible ways to harness that for the production of cheap, safe energy, and last week saw an experiment that we thought had been a failure.” He shrugged, then crooked a pained little smile: “I guess it did have an effect after all. And I guess we should scratch tachyons off the list. At least where safety is concerned.”
--
Interdimensional time travel. He was actually talking to a person from another dimension, a parallel reality. Who had opened a trans-dimensional gate through methods of advanced (or, seeing how Veidt’s dimension seemed to be 12 years behind, simply other) science. And probably had tons of figures to back his story up. Why the hell was Scully never there when things like these happened? He was feeling almost dizzy with glee. Veidt, on the other hand, seemed not at all happy with it.
Following a sudden urge to cheer the man up, Fox grinned at him: “Well, it could have been worse. You could have blown yourself to sub-molecular pieces. Or ended up in a dimension ruled by sentinent ants who have taken over the world and enslaved humanity to work on their sugar farms.”
Veidt chuckled, and regarded Fox with an impish smile: “Or maybe I did end up in such a dimension, and you’re just a drone with a clever backstory, sent to make us drop our guard so your ant overlords can conquer yet another world.”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” Fox smiled.
“I guess so.”
“So,” he went on, “who’s this Dr. Manhattan, then? A scientist in this field of research?”
Once again, the blonde man chuckled: “I guess you could say that, yes. He’s…” for a moment, Veidt seemed to be searching for the right word, before he settled on “…complicated. Suffice it to say that he’s a superhuman being with the power to rearrange particles in any way he sees fit. Amongst others.”
Now, superhuman beings weren’t really all that new to Fox. Invisibility, pyrokinesis, mind control, been there, done that, filed the report nobody believed. But rearranging particles, that was a new one. “I suppose he can’t somehow get you out of here and back where you belong?” he inquired.
Veidt shrugged, looking toughtful: “Possibly. I know he can travel anywhere in the universe with no more effort than a mere thought, but I don’t know if that works for other universes as well. I never asked.” He smirked: “Maybe I should have. I guess I have to make a note of it for next time I see him. And I hope he doesn’t answer with a yes. Not after I’ve been apparently sitting around in a different dimension for a week, thinking nothing was wrong while people at home are probably getting a tad anxious about why they haven’t heard from me. But then,” he grinned, “that would be pretty much like him.”
Fox gave the man a suspicious look, raising one of his brows slightly: “You’re not superhuman, too, are you? Some kind of mutant?” Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past the guy. He was kind of strange. And disturbingly handsome.
Veidt shook his head, laughing: “I’m afraid I’m just a normal human being. No mutations that I know of. Sorry to disappoint. Though,” he winked at Fox, “if it cheers you up, my cat has some.”
--
The agent lauged and threw a sideways glance at Bubastis, who had once again lain down on the floor in front of the TV sets: “She sure looks like it.”
“Anyway,” Adrian furrowed his brow, quickly going over last week’s experiment in his mind, “I don’t think we need any superhuman intervention to get back. The effects should be reversible, if we tweak a few parameters and then run the experiment again. I’ll have to run it by my team, of course, but I’m positive it will work.”
…and had that been a hint of disappointment he’d just seen in Mulder’s eyes? To be quite honest, he had just felt a twang of something, too – the creeping feeling of a possibly lost opportunity. Well, he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“It will take some time to set things up properly,” he mused, “a few hours, probably, maybe half a day…” he flashed the other man his most charming smile: “So, care to join me for dinner? That is, if you don’t have any buisness in your dimension to attend to that couldn’t possibly wait for a while.”
“Oh, no. I mean, yes.” Grinning a bit sheepishly, Mulder shook his head: “What I mean is no, I don’t have any urgent business to attend to and yes, I would like to join you for dinner. Driving around in the snow for hours does tend to make you a bit hungry,” he quickly added.
“Wonderful,” Adrian’s smile grew brighter, then he gestured towards the back of the room: “I’m going to have to talk to my scientists. And I think you’d best come along, as a bit of proof that I haven’t suddenly gone off my rocker.”
--
Talking with the scientists who were researching the tachyon effects had proved to be a very interesting experience. Once they’d gotten over the shock of being responsible for a breach in the space-time continuum, they had bombarded Fox with questions about this dimension until Veidt had gently but very insitantly reminded them that it would probably be best if they got to work on getting themselves and everything else back into their own. After all, one could never know how long this bubble they were in would hold, and what might happen once it collapsed.
“Aren’t you curious about what’s out there, Mr. Veidt?” Fox had asked his host once they had left the scientists to their calculations. They were walking down a hallway to the genetics research labs, which Veidt had insisted on showing.
“Please, call me Adrian,” the man had answered with a pleasant smile that had then widened into a conspiratorial grin, “and believe me, I’m horribly curious about your dimension. I would love to go back to your Washington with you and see how it is. Analyze all the differences. Steal any technology you have that seems useful. But if science fiction has taught me anything, then that such a thing is never a good idea, and would probably end up in both our worlds getting destroyed. Also,” his voice had dropped a bit, and his face had taken on a serious expression that had seemed almost sad, “I have important things to do at home. People depend on me.”
The genetics labs had proved to be the explanation for the strange organic material his source had given him. Most of the work done there seemed to have something to do with hybridization and transgenetics. After seeing some of the creatures Veidt’s – Adrian’s – scientists had produced, Fox had to agree with Scully’s assessment of “strange and unnatural”. Apparently, purple cats were just the tip of the iceberg (a fitting metaphor if there ever was one). After he had metioned his aquarium, Adrian had shown him a huge saltwater tank that was almost two storeys high and held a number of strange-looking fish, some of which were glowing in various colors. Fox had been peering into the depths of the dark blue waters when a huge, many-armed shadow had swum by somewhere in the back, startling him:
“Whoa. What was that?”
The blonde man had waved a hand dismissively: “Oh, that’s just a squid.” When Fox had inquired as to what weird stuff the tentacled creature could do, Adrian had just shrugged nonchalantly: “Nothing interesting, really. It’s an abandoned project.”
Dinner had been surprisingly good. When Fox had made a joke about how most of it was probably frozen food, what with this being the Antarctic and all, Adrian had laughed, nodded, and then surprised him with the revelation that apparently, the complex held not only several research labs but also a large indoor garden and arboretum, designed for producing vegetables as well as for recreational purposes.
So now, they were sitting on the grass in a large glass dome, surrounded by exotic trees and colorful flowers and enjoying a beautiful view of the southern hemisphere’s night sky. The warm air, combined with the warmth of half a bottle of wine, made Fox almost forget about how a few hours ago, he’d been sure that he would die an icy death surrounded by nothing but snow and rocks. It also kept him from thinking about how Adrian and him had been moving steadily closer, closing the gap of empty space between them until their shoulders were touching and Adrian’s hand was lying on top of his, long elegant fingers curling around, thumb lightly stroking his palm. Nope, no need to think about it. Instead, he took a deep breath of the fragrant air and let his head slowly drop to the side, until it came to rest on the other man’s shoulder: “It’s nice here.”
--
“It is,” Adrian said, “I like to come here. It’s so peaceful and quiet.”. He turned his head slightly, nuzzling into the other’s dark hair. Fox lifted his head to look at him, and for a moment Adrian was afraid he’d never be able to pull himself out of that gaze again. But then, he leaned foreward, closing his eyes and touching his lips against the other man’s. He felt Fox hesitate for just one second before moving into the kiss, deepening it, and Adrian sighed, savouring the warmth and taste of the other man’s mouth.
Turning around so that they were facing each other, Adrian slid his hands over the agent’s shoulders and down his back, feeling him shiver and moan as he carefully probed his mouth with his tongue. Finally, he pulled away, panting slightly, smiling at Fox, who smiled back, face slightly flushed: “So… are you the only one who comes here for some peace and quiet?”
Adrian grinned, and bent down to place a kiss on the other man’s neck: “Yes”. He worked his way up to Fox’ ear and gently nipped at the earlobe: “That is, at least when I lock the doors.”
“So you had this all planned out.” The dark-haired man’s chuckle ended in a whimper as Adrian once again bit down on his earlobe, a little harder this time.
“Of course,” Adrian whispered, grinning, “I always have a plan for everything.”
He moaned, feeling Fox’ tongue flick over his ear and lifted his head, allowing the other man to lay a trail of kisses over his jaw while he pulled at the agent’s shirt, impatient to finally feel his warm skin underneath his fingertips.
Apparently, Fox was feeling pretty much the same, because Adrian could feel hands pulling at the hem of his turtleneck, fingernails lightly scratching over his skin when it was pulled up, leaving a trail of goosebumps which made him arch his spine, whimpering slightly. As soon as his torso was laid bare, Fox was kissing his neck, fingers running over his chest, only stopping for Adrian to pull his shirt off and toss it somewhere into the bushes. Adrian put both his hands on the other man’s back, pulling him in until he could feel his warm skin flush against his own, kissing him hungrily. Fox moaned, and ran his hands into Adrian’s hair, fingers twining and pulling at the blonde strands.
Shifting his weight, Adrian carefully bent down until he had Fox lying on his back underneath him. He could feel his erection straining against the front of his pants, and ground his hips down, eliciting a groan from the other man. He let his lips find a path down over Fox’ throat and chest until he was flicking his tongue over a rapidly hardening nipple, whining when he felt fingers clawing at his sides, pushing their way underneath the waistband of his pants. Arching his back, he once again rubbed his hips against the other man’s until he was panting. Fox was pushing up against him, moaning wantonly, eyes closed and fingers digging into Adrian’s ass.
Almost shaking with lust, Adrian sat up for a moment to make quick work of his pants, pushing them down and kicking them off with an impatient hiss before doing the same for Fox. For a moment, he hesitated, crouching above the other man. Grinning up at the blonde, Fox laid a hand on Adrian’s neck and pulled him down into a deep, passionate kiss. Adrian felt himself being pushed onto his side, and then a hand wrapped around his aching cock, stroking him slowly, making him gasp and whimper. He swallowed, trying to catch his breath before rasping: “Oh god… wait, wait…”
Pulling away, he smiled, his lust mirrored in the other’s dark, glazed eyes. Burying his face into the crook of Fox’ neck, he lined up against him and wrapped his hand around both of them, taking up a slow rhythm which quickly became faster, more urgent. He could hear Fox moan and curse at his ear, feel him pushing into his hand until his hips jerked and stiffened, spilling over Adrian’s hand with a groan. With the other man shuddering against him, hearing his moans and feeling the heat and wetness between them, Adrian followed quickly, lips pressed against Fox’s shoulder, hushing his own shakey whimper.
They lay beside one another for a while, until Adrian could feel his racing heart calm down. With a deep, content sigh, he let himself roll on his back, arm crooked underneath his head, smiling at the night sky above him. Next to him, he could hear Fox’ breathing slow, heard him groan and stretch. A comfortable silence wrapped itself around them like a blanket, until Adrian could hear the other man laugh softly.
“What are you thinking of?” he asked, turning his head and smiling.
Fox grinned back: “Oh, just that this is something I should really leave out of the report. Nobody would believe it, anyway.”
Adrian laughed, and stroked the dark-haired man’s cheek: “I guess it’s one of those secrets frozen in the ice, then.”
Turning his head to kiss Adrian’s fingers, Fox winked: “You know the saying. What happens in the Antarctic – stays in the Antarctic.”
Title: What happens in the Antarctic...
Fandom: Watchmen/X-Files crossover
Characters: Adrian Veidt/Fox Mulder
'verse: Movieverse for Watchmen, somewhere around Season 5 for X-Files.
Rating: R
Warnings: Crack.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the boys. I just abuse them.
Summary: When one of his sources tells him about strange things happening in the Antarctic, Mulder decides to investigate. What he finds there is strange even by his standards...
Getting to Antarctica was always difficult, even at the best of times, but the information and photographs his informant had given him were reason enough for Fox Mulder to attempt the trip even in the dead of winter. Apparently, his informant had stumbled upon a top-secret government facility, or possibly even something bigger than that. There were strange energy readings, and some genetic material Scully had analyzed and declared unlike anything that occurred in nature. Might very well be alien. Still, it hadn't been enough to convince her - or the Bureau - that she absolutely needed to come along on this trip.
Mulder envied her, now that he was out here, in the dead of arctic night, in a snowmobile whose GPS system was for some reason not working any longer, trying to find this mysterious spot with the help of a compass and a map. Not that a map was that much use, seeing how one of the major scenic features of the Antarctic seemed to be its lack of scenery.
"Damn." He gave the GPS system another whack. What the hell was wrong with this thing? Well, judging from its dying words, he wasn't far from... whatever it was, so he should stumble upon it some time soon. Or, of course, he could be driving in circles, until the fuel ran out, and he would freeze to death in the icy cold.
Just as Fox had resigned himself to the fact that yes, an icy death was imminent, the headlights of his snowmobile hit something. Saying that it stood out a bit from the bland white snowy planes would be like saying that people at the FBI thought he was a bit off his rocker.
“What the…?”
Fox had seen many weird things during his career, which was probably the reason his first thought wasn’t “this is it, I’m going insane” but rather “wouldn’t this look better in the desert?”
But, looking on the bright side, it did rule out the possibility of this being a government facility. Unless, of course, the US government had lied about national debt big time, and actually did have money stashed away somewhere to build something that looked, for all accounts, like some ancient Egyptian temple. In the Antarctic. But no, it just wasn’t their style. Mostly because they didn’t have one. Unless you considered “boring” to be an architectural style, anyway.
Driving down the lane of stone-carved rams (rams? Really? All right, maybe he was going insane) and through the giant pylons, Mulder stopped the snowmobile in front of what he guessed was the main entrance of the pyramid-like structure.
--
Adrian was sitting in his chair in front of the wall of TVs, eyes flickering from one screen to the next, lingering just long enough to get a picture of what was going on on each one. Nothing of interest, mostly. Things seemed to be rather quiet at the moment. Bubastis was lying at his feet, lazily licking her silky fur, having given up on the spectacle, or rather lack thereof, in front of her already. One of the screens flickered, switching to a different feed, and something caught Adrian’s attention out of the corner of his eye. This was definitely not the picture that was supposed to come up. Instead of showing the empty courtyard in front of the pyramid’s entrance, it showed a snowmobile. Which was just now parking in front of said entrance.
“Now that’s interesting, don’t you think?” Adrian murmured, and Bubastis pricked her ears, eyes swivelling towards the screens again.
“I certainly wasn’t expecting any visitors.”
He stretched his shoulders, getting up from the chair:
“What do you say, should we take a look?”
With silent dignity, Bubastis got up from the floor and padded in the direction of the airlock that served as an entrance to the pyramid. Adrian followed, not bothering to switch off the screens. This certainly was interesting. Who would come out here, uninvited, in the middle of the Antarctic winter? And what was even more interesting was: why?
--
“I hope someone’s home,” Mulder said to himself, shutting the door of the snowmobile. And someone better be, else he would probably be stuck out here, seeing how the fuel tank was dangerously empty by now. Bracing himself against the icy wind, he crossed the short distance towards the large sliding door. There was a keypad next to it, with a red and green button, and underneath it, another, larger red button. “Let’s hope that’s not the self-destruct.” Reaching out, he jabbed the button with gloved fingers, and waited.
--
Flicking on the camera that was placed above the entrance, Adrian looked at the screen, and frowned in disappointment. Whoever it was apparently didn’t care much for revealing themselves, since the hooded figure in front of the door was turning away, wrapping its arms around its body. Well, it was rather cold out there. Waiting another ten seconds just for good measure, he finally punched in the code that opened the front door of the airlock.
“Whoever it is, they better not be annoying. Or boring.” He smirked down at Bubastis, who rumbled and shook her head, something Adrian never quite knew if to interpret as agreement, or rather the feline version of rolling her eyes at him. But still, no company was better than boring company.
The mysterious visitor stepped into the airlock, which immediately hissed closed behind it, and pushed back the hood of its parka. His parka, Adrian corrected himself. The man in the airlock was about his age, he guessed, with mussed-up dark hair, through which he now ran a hand that had previously been stripped off its thick glove. And quite an attractive face. Adrian allowed himself a small smile while absent-mindedly petting Bubastis’ head. He stepped back a few paces, crossing his arms behind his back. No need to scare the newcomer by standing right in front of the door. Bubastis, on the other hand, didn’t consider manners and stayed where she was, eyeing the door expectantly.
--
Fox stuffed his gloves into the pockets of his parka and unzipped it. Now that the air in here was slowly warming up, he could finally feel his face again. He made a mental note to leave the investigations in the Antarctic for the summer next time something like this came up. Eyeing the obviously placed camera, he stomped his feet on the ground, shaking snow off his boots while waiting for the inner door to open.
When it finally did, he almost wanted to turn around and take the other door again. Just a few feet away from him was standing… well, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was. A large cat. A large, purple cat. With long ears that ended in tufts. A purple cat.
It probably belonged to the man who was standing a few steps behind it, wearing black dress pants, a black turtleneck and a purple suit jacket. What was it with the purple? The man was smiling at him, a calm, amicable smile that was clearly engineered to put people at ease. And it worked.
“Please, don’t worry,” the man said, voice as smooth as the smile, stepping forward to place a hand on the cat’s head, “she doesn’t eat humans.” A corner of his mouth twitched upwards, just for a second: “Usually.” The cat-thing sat down, licking its paw, obviously not interested in dining on him, and the blonde man went on: “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Adrian Veidt, and this,” he petted the animal again, “is Bubastis.” Raising an eyebrow at him, the man – Veidt – went on: “And who are you? And, more importantly, what are you doing here?”
--
The other man’s reaction to Bubastis was certainly amusing. But then, most people who saw her for the first time were… impressed. Well, all right, impressed and usually more than a little scared, at first. She was rather large, he had to admit.
And now for the interesting part. Adrian watched the other man rummage around in his parka, and finally produce something that he immediately recognized as an FBI badge. Holding out the badge, the man cleared his throat before answering: “Fox Mulder. I’m with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
Adrian’s brow furrowed. Why had the FBI sent anybody out here? And what was even more irritating, why hadn’t he known about this beforehand? He usually knew well enough in advance if any government agencies or representatives were about to pay him a visit. Considering what he was doing here, it always paid to have eyes and ears everywhere. Well, if worse came to worse, he would just have to remind Mr. Mulder that the Antarctic was neutral territory and therefore, the FBI had no jurisdiction whatsoever. Which would be a pity, because he didn’t want the man to leave just yet.
“As to why I’m here, well…” there was a short pause, in which Adrian allowed himself to look slightly impatient, “we came across reports of unusual energy readings, and since there hadn’t been anything here a week ago, decided to investigate. After all, it is a bit unusual.” Mulder waved his hand in a vague gesture: “All of this. Appearing out of nowhere.”
--
And just for a moment, there, the calm façade of Veidt’s face slipped. It was only a short moment, almost too short to notice, but Fox had been dealing with this kind of thing for too long to be fooled by a poker face.
“Excuse me?” The short moment of sheer surprise had passed, and now the other man’s face – which was something to look at, but why the hell was he noticing this right now? – once again showed a pleasant, noncommittal smile: “I think you must be mistaken, Agent Mulder. This facility has been here for almost five years now. We started construction back in 1980.”
Now, it was Mulder’s turn for a moment of utter confusion. Had that guy just said 1980? “But it’s 1997!”
Veidt inclined his head, giving him a look that reminded Fox of a predatory bird. A very irritated predatory bird. “No, it’s 1985. Unless, of course…” he drew a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling and running both of his hands, which up until now had been folded behind his back, through his immaculately coiffed hair: “Oh, no.”
Oh no indeed. Fox grimaced, shrugging off his parka while his thoughts raced to the obvious conclusion to this mystery. “Time travel” he murmured to himself. And time travel was always bad news. Veidt had turned around, and was walking towards a section of the walls that held a dizzying array of TV screens, all showing something different. There were several that looked like news programs, some movie, and was that a porno over there?
“So,” Fox said, catching up with the man in purple, “I take it you thought this was 1985?”
Without even turning his head, Veidt answered, his voice carrying an unnerving certainity: “It is 1985.” He made a sweeping gesture at the screens: “At least according to this. Agent Mulder,” now he turned, his expression thoughtful and looking a bit absent, “would you mind answering a few questions?”
--
This was not good. Not good at all. The agent was right, this probably was time travel, but it might be even worse than that. But to determine that, Adrian had to get some facts straight first. His first hint had been the suspicious lack of recognition Mudler had shown when he had mentioned his name.
“Tell me, does the name Dr. Manhattan mean anything to you?”
Mulder shook his head, face blank: “No. Is he a scientist?”
Yes, it was worse than time travel. Still, it couldn’t hurt to get one more answer to confirm his suspicion.
“Who is, I mean, was President of the United States in 1985?”
“Ronald Reagan.” The dark-haired agent narrowed his eyes at him: “You’ve got an idea what’s happened here, haven’t you? And it’s probably not time travel. Or rather, not just time travel.”
Adrian smiled, if a bit painfully. It seemed like the FBI in whatever dimension this man came from employed people who were a bit brighter than the avarage agent from his dimension.
“Yes, I think I know what has happened here, and no, it’s not just time travel.” Now it was his turn to grimace: “It’s interdimensional time travel. Meaning, somehow the dimension I, and this building, are from is intersecting with the dimension you hail from. Tell me,” he raised his eyebrows, regarding Mulder with curiosity, “have you ever heard of quantum mechanics? String theory? Parallel universes?”
Mulder nodded, which again made Adrian smile a little: “You think that somehow, the boundaries between our two parallel dimensions broke down, and now there’s some sort of bubble that extends from your universe into mine?” Adrian nodded, and the agent went on: “But how did this happen? And why here? I mean, there are spots that are reputed to be closer to other dimensions, or rather where the boundaries are weaker, like for example the Bermuda Triangle, but there’s never been any mention of the Antarctic.”
Adrian sighed: “I’m afraid that in this case, I’m your culprit. You see, this,” he made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the room and all beyond, “is a research facility. We, that is to say my science team and I, are working on possible sources of alternative energy, among other things. We have been researching tachyons for some time now, their properties and possible ways to harness that for the production of cheap, safe energy, and last week saw an experiment that we thought had been a failure.” He shrugged, then crooked a pained little smile: “I guess it did have an effect after all. And I guess we should scratch tachyons off the list. At least where safety is concerned.”
--
Interdimensional time travel. He was actually talking to a person from another dimension, a parallel reality. Who had opened a trans-dimensional gate through methods of advanced (or, seeing how Veidt’s dimension seemed to be 12 years behind, simply other) science. And probably had tons of figures to back his story up. Why the hell was Scully never there when things like these happened? He was feeling almost dizzy with glee. Veidt, on the other hand, seemed not at all happy with it.
Following a sudden urge to cheer the man up, Fox grinned at him: “Well, it could have been worse. You could have blown yourself to sub-molecular pieces. Or ended up in a dimension ruled by sentinent ants who have taken over the world and enslaved humanity to work on their sugar farms.”
Veidt chuckled, and regarded Fox with an impish smile: “Or maybe I did end up in such a dimension, and you’re just a drone with a clever backstory, sent to make us drop our guard so your ant overlords can conquer yet another world.”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” Fox smiled.
“I guess so.”
“So,” he went on, “who’s this Dr. Manhattan, then? A scientist in this field of research?”
Once again, the blonde man chuckled: “I guess you could say that, yes. He’s…” for a moment, Veidt seemed to be searching for the right word, before he settled on “…complicated. Suffice it to say that he’s a superhuman being with the power to rearrange particles in any way he sees fit. Amongst others.”
Now, superhuman beings weren’t really all that new to Fox. Invisibility, pyrokinesis, mind control, been there, done that, filed the report nobody believed. But rearranging particles, that was a new one. “I suppose he can’t somehow get you out of here and back where you belong?” he inquired.
Veidt shrugged, looking toughtful: “Possibly. I know he can travel anywhere in the universe with no more effort than a mere thought, but I don’t know if that works for other universes as well. I never asked.” He smirked: “Maybe I should have. I guess I have to make a note of it for next time I see him. And I hope he doesn’t answer with a yes. Not after I’ve been apparently sitting around in a different dimension for a week, thinking nothing was wrong while people at home are probably getting a tad anxious about why they haven’t heard from me. But then,” he grinned, “that would be pretty much like him.”
Fox gave the man a suspicious look, raising one of his brows slightly: “You’re not superhuman, too, are you? Some kind of mutant?” Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past the guy. He was kind of strange. And disturbingly handsome.
Veidt shook his head, laughing: “I’m afraid I’m just a normal human being. No mutations that I know of. Sorry to disappoint. Though,” he winked at Fox, “if it cheers you up, my cat has some.”
--
The agent lauged and threw a sideways glance at Bubastis, who had once again lain down on the floor in front of the TV sets: “She sure looks like it.”
“Anyway,” Adrian furrowed his brow, quickly going over last week’s experiment in his mind, “I don’t think we need any superhuman intervention to get back. The effects should be reversible, if we tweak a few parameters and then run the experiment again. I’ll have to run it by my team, of course, but I’m positive it will work.”
…and had that been a hint of disappointment he’d just seen in Mulder’s eyes? To be quite honest, he had just felt a twang of something, too – the creeping feeling of a possibly lost opportunity. Well, he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“It will take some time to set things up properly,” he mused, “a few hours, probably, maybe half a day…” he flashed the other man his most charming smile: “So, care to join me for dinner? That is, if you don’t have any buisness in your dimension to attend to that couldn’t possibly wait for a while.”
“Oh, no. I mean, yes.” Grinning a bit sheepishly, Mulder shook his head: “What I mean is no, I don’t have any urgent business to attend to and yes, I would like to join you for dinner. Driving around in the snow for hours does tend to make you a bit hungry,” he quickly added.
“Wonderful,” Adrian’s smile grew brighter, then he gestured towards the back of the room: “I’m going to have to talk to my scientists. And I think you’d best come along, as a bit of proof that I haven’t suddenly gone off my rocker.”
--
Talking with the scientists who were researching the tachyon effects had proved to be a very interesting experience. Once they’d gotten over the shock of being responsible for a breach in the space-time continuum, they had bombarded Fox with questions about this dimension until Veidt had gently but very insitantly reminded them that it would probably be best if they got to work on getting themselves and everything else back into their own. After all, one could never know how long this bubble they were in would hold, and what might happen once it collapsed.
“Aren’t you curious about what’s out there, Mr. Veidt?” Fox had asked his host once they had left the scientists to their calculations. They were walking down a hallway to the genetics research labs, which Veidt had insisted on showing.
“Please, call me Adrian,” the man had answered with a pleasant smile that had then widened into a conspiratorial grin, “and believe me, I’m horribly curious about your dimension. I would love to go back to your Washington with you and see how it is. Analyze all the differences. Steal any technology you have that seems useful. But if science fiction has taught me anything, then that such a thing is never a good idea, and would probably end up in both our worlds getting destroyed. Also,” his voice had dropped a bit, and his face had taken on a serious expression that had seemed almost sad, “I have important things to do at home. People depend on me.”
The genetics labs had proved to be the explanation for the strange organic material his source had given him. Most of the work done there seemed to have something to do with hybridization and transgenetics. After seeing some of the creatures Veidt’s – Adrian’s – scientists had produced, Fox had to agree with Scully’s assessment of “strange and unnatural”. Apparently, purple cats were just the tip of the iceberg (a fitting metaphor if there ever was one). After he had metioned his aquarium, Adrian had shown him a huge saltwater tank that was almost two storeys high and held a number of strange-looking fish, some of which were glowing in various colors. Fox had been peering into the depths of the dark blue waters when a huge, many-armed shadow had swum by somewhere in the back, startling him:
“Whoa. What was that?”
The blonde man had waved a hand dismissively: “Oh, that’s just a squid.” When Fox had inquired as to what weird stuff the tentacled creature could do, Adrian had just shrugged nonchalantly: “Nothing interesting, really. It’s an abandoned project.”
Dinner had been surprisingly good. When Fox had made a joke about how most of it was probably frozen food, what with this being the Antarctic and all, Adrian had laughed, nodded, and then surprised him with the revelation that apparently, the complex held not only several research labs but also a large indoor garden and arboretum, designed for producing vegetables as well as for recreational purposes.
So now, they were sitting on the grass in a large glass dome, surrounded by exotic trees and colorful flowers and enjoying a beautiful view of the southern hemisphere’s night sky. The warm air, combined with the warmth of half a bottle of wine, made Fox almost forget about how a few hours ago, he’d been sure that he would die an icy death surrounded by nothing but snow and rocks. It also kept him from thinking about how Adrian and him had been moving steadily closer, closing the gap of empty space between them until their shoulders were touching and Adrian’s hand was lying on top of his, long elegant fingers curling around, thumb lightly stroking his palm. Nope, no need to think about it. Instead, he took a deep breath of the fragrant air and let his head slowly drop to the side, until it came to rest on the other man’s shoulder: “It’s nice here.”
--
“It is,” Adrian said, “I like to come here. It’s so peaceful and quiet.”. He turned his head slightly, nuzzling into the other’s dark hair. Fox lifted his head to look at him, and for a moment Adrian was afraid he’d never be able to pull himself out of that gaze again. But then, he leaned foreward, closing his eyes and touching his lips against the other man’s. He felt Fox hesitate for just one second before moving into the kiss, deepening it, and Adrian sighed, savouring the warmth and taste of the other man’s mouth.
Turning around so that they were facing each other, Adrian slid his hands over the agent’s shoulders and down his back, feeling him shiver and moan as he carefully probed his mouth with his tongue. Finally, he pulled away, panting slightly, smiling at Fox, who smiled back, face slightly flushed: “So… are you the only one who comes here for some peace and quiet?”
Adrian grinned, and bent down to place a kiss on the other man’s neck: “Yes”. He worked his way up to Fox’ ear and gently nipped at the earlobe: “That is, at least when I lock the doors.”
“So you had this all planned out.” The dark-haired man’s chuckle ended in a whimper as Adrian once again bit down on his earlobe, a little harder this time.
“Of course,” Adrian whispered, grinning, “I always have a plan for everything.”
He moaned, feeling Fox’ tongue flick over his ear and lifted his head, allowing the other man to lay a trail of kisses over his jaw while he pulled at the agent’s shirt, impatient to finally feel his warm skin underneath his fingertips.
Apparently, Fox was feeling pretty much the same, because Adrian could feel hands pulling at the hem of his turtleneck, fingernails lightly scratching over his skin when it was pulled up, leaving a trail of goosebumps which made him arch his spine, whimpering slightly. As soon as his torso was laid bare, Fox was kissing his neck, fingers running over his chest, only stopping for Adrian to pull his shirt off and toss it somewhere into the bushes. Adrian put both his hands on the other man’s back, pulling him in until he could feel his warm skin flush against his own, kissing him hungrily. Fox moaned, and ran his hands into Adrian’s hair, fingers twining and pulling at the blonde strands.
Shifting his weight, Adrian carefully bent down until he had Fox lying on his back underneath him. He could feel his erection straining against the front of his pants, and ground his hips down, eliciting a groan from the other man. He let his lips find a path down over Fox’ throat and chest until he was flicking his tongue over a rapidly hardening nipple, whining when he felt fingers clawing at his sides, pushing their way underneath the waistband of his pants. Arching his back, he once again rubbed his hips against the other man’s until he was panting. Fox was pushing up against him, moaning wantonly, eyes closed and fingers digging into Adrian’s ass.
Almost shaking with lust, Adrian sat up for a moment to make quick work of his pants, pushing them down and kicking them off with an impatient hiss before doing the same for Fox. For a moment, he hesitated, crouching above the other man. Grinning up at the blonde, Fox laid a hand on Adrian’s neck and pulled him down into a deep, passionate kiss. Adrian felt himself being pushed onto his side, and then a hand wrapped around his aching cock, stroking him slowly, making him gasp and whimper. He swallowed, trying to catch his breath before rasping: “Oh god… wait, wait…”
Pulling away, he smiled, his lust mirrored in the other’s dark, glazed eyes. Burying his face into the crook of Fox’ neck, he lined up against him and wrapped his hand around both of them, taking up a slow rhythm which quickly became faster, more urgent. He could hear Fox moan and curse at his ear, feel him pushing into his hand until his hips jerked and stiffened, spilling over Adrian’s hand with a groan. With the other man shuddering against him, hearing his moans and feeling the heat and wetness between them, Adrian followed quickly, lips pressed against Fox’s shoulder, hushing his own shakey whimper.
They lay beside one another for a while, until Adrian could feel his racing heart calm down. With a deep, content sigh, he let himself roll on his back, arm crooked underneath his head, smiling at the night sky above him. Next to him, he could hear Fox’ breathing slow, heard him groan and stretch. A comfortable silence wrapped itself around them like a blanket, until Adrian could hear the other man laugh softly.
“What are you thinking of?” he asked, turning his head and smiling.
Fox grinned back: “Oh, just that this is something I should really leave out of the report. Nobody would believe it, anyway.”
Adrian laughed, and stroked the dark-haired man’s cheek: “I guess it’s one of those secrets frozen in the ice, then.”
Turning his head to kiss Adrian’s fingers, Fox winked: “You know the saying. What happens in the Antarctic – stays in the Antarctic.”