Mission: Jaws of the Jaguar

mission9

Mission: Jaws of the Jaguar Chapter NinePreparationWhen Fox came into the kitchen, Ethan asked him, "Do you still need coffee to wake up after that shower?"

"I need coffee to get my heart started." He poured himself a cup, and inhaled the rich aroma before taking the first sip. He sighed contentedly.

"Addict."

"Drug of choice." Fox sniffed, and peered into a sizzling pan on the stove. "Onions? At this time of the morning?"

Ethan was whisking eggs. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have crunch in my omelette."

Fox watched as Ethan poured the eggs into a hot, greased pan, tilting it so that they spread evenly. As they turned opaque on the bottom, he lifted the edges with a spatula, tilting the pan so that the uncooked mixture ran under. When the surface was only moist instead of wet, he sprinkled it with the onion, and grated cheese and cubed ham. Then he neatly folded it in half, lightly pressing the edges.

He glanced at Fox, then, with a quick twist of his wrist, flipped the omelette in the air lightly, and slid it off onto a plate. "Damn!" Fox muttered. "I tried to cook an omelette once. Once. It took me three hours to clean the kitchen. I threw it out, and the neighbor's dog got mysteriously ill the next day."

Ethan cut the omelette in half and slid part onto a second plate, handing it to Fox. "Yeah, well, don't sweat it. You don't have to cook. Someone will marry you just for your looks."

"I want to be loved for my mind."

"If it's dirty enough, you'll be loved for it. Sit down to eat that. You'll get indigestion."

They went out into the dining area, and Ethan sat opposite him. Fox rapidly emptied his plate, then sat back with a replete sigh. "Well?"

"The plate is clean."

"I noticed that. I'm surprised you didn't scrape the pattern off it."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Is that what you're planning on wearing?"

Fox looked down at the cranberry colored silk shirt and black pants. "N tho thought I'd wear the pink tutu. What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. But we're having the passport photos taken. Wear your blazer."

"Yes, Dad."

"The correct term is `daddy'."

"Um." Fox got up and went to get the blazer.

Ethan wondered if Fox was consciously flirting back at him, or if he thought he was just teasing Ethan. Probably wasn't sure where smart ass left off and flirting began. He went and got his own jacket, joining Fox in the living room.

Fox spread his arms. "Happy?"

"Almost." Ethan buttoned the jacket, then hooked his finger in the breast pocket. "Remind me to get you a show handkerchief to fold in here."

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

"Detail, Fox." He paused. "Details, Daniel."

"Yes, Con."

"Empty your wallet out." He handed Fox an envelope. "Put everything in here. We'll have it put somewhere safe till this is over."

Fox stripped his wallet of everything but cash, stuffing it in the envelope, then sealing it. Hdn'tdn't like doing this. He was used to always having his ID with him, it was an integral part of being an FBI agent. You had to be ready to identify yourself at all times. This made him uncomfortable. It was like his identity was being stripped away. It made him feel... raw, somehow. Exposed. Vulnerable.

Hunt seemed to sense something of what he was feeling. "You're not losing yourself. You're... just taking a vacation from your life for awhile. It doesn't really matter what the pieces of paper say, does it?" He tapped Fox's chest. "You're still you, here."

Downstairs he exchanged the envelope containing Fox's papers for one that was already in the mailbox, handing it to Fox. Mulder ripped it open and found a driver's license, social security card, gym membership card, credit cards, even a partially filled video rental redemption card, all in the name of Daniel Ballard. The photo on the license was the same that graced Fox's own. The physical information was the same, except for the weight. Daniel weighed about five pounds more than Fox. Good, everyone would think he'd been losing weight. Daniel wasn't a donor, though. Selfish bastard.

Ethan waited while he stowed the items in his wallet. The first stop was a small medical practice building. In an office waiting room, Ethan went directly to the check in counter. "Galbraith and Ballard. We're here for our travel immunizations."

"Certainly, sir. Just sign in, and have a seat." Ethan scratched `Connor Galbraith' on the sheet, then handed it over to Fox. He looked at Ethan for a moment, then signed `Daniel Ballard'.

When they sat, he murmured, "Shouldn't I practice `my' signature?"

"Yes, you should. I was going to bring that up later. Good catch. I'm getting more and more confident in you, Danny."

There was a stack of magazines on the table before them, and Fox started to sort through them. His hand hovered over a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, then he bypassed it and picked up an International Male Catalogue. Ethan smiled in approval. The catalogue was notorious for the sensual pictures of male models in skimpy attire, and was exactly what Daniel would have zeroed in on.

Ethan casually threw an arm across the back of Fox's chair, and peered over at the catalogue. He tapped a page. "You'd look good in that."

"Those sleeves? I'd look like Errol Flynn getting ready to swash some buckle."

"You can swash my buckle any time." Ethan saw the color sweep up Mulder's cheeks. Oh, I have got to make a play for you soon, Foxy.

A middle aged nurse came to the counter. "Mr. Ballard, Mr. Galbraith? Follow me, please." They followed her back into a surprisingly twisty maze of corridors and exam rooms. Finally they were ushered into a typical looking exam room. "The doctor will we with you momentarily."

As she left, Ethan took the one chair. Fox looked around a moment, then perched on the exam table, long legs dangling. "Most doctors need appointments and medical records and insurance information before you get past the dragons at the front desk."

It wasn't stated as a question, but that's what it was. Ethan nodded. "Most doctors."

"Yeah, I guess you would have to have some discrete medical help in your line of work."

"Our line of work."

A small Asian man in a white lab coat bustled into the room. He offered them a blinding smile, and shook hands. "Mr. Bridger, wonderful to see you again. Mr. Ballard. Going abroad, are we?"

"A little jaunt to Columbia, Doctor Ling. No more than a week or so. But Daniel isn't up on his vaccinations, and I can't risk having him get sick."

"Well, that's easily taken care of."

Fox felt vaguely like he had as a child at the pediatrician's, listening to his father and the doctor discuss his medical care. The doctor removed a capped, disposable syringe from his jacket pocket. "We'll give you the gamma gobulin first. I assume that this trip will be soon?"

"In a little more than a week and a half."

"Hm. Well, you won't want the typhoid injection, then. That might make him ill, and it's very uncomfortable. We have a new oral medication he can take over a weeks time. Four capsules, one every other day." Fox was removing his blazer. "No, no, Mr. Ballard. You really don't want to take this in the arm. Haven't you ever had a gamma gobulin shot before?"

"No."

"They're very strong. They need to be injected into a much larger muscle mass."

Fox looked pained. "Not in the butt?"

The doctor smiled. "No, no, not the buttock. Just the hip. We wouldn't want you to have a bruise on your sit-down. Very uncomfortable. Now, lower your pants, please." Grumbling, Fox reached for his belt. He hesitated, looking at Ethan. Ethan just folded his hands and returned his look. Mulder undid his belt and opened pantpant, then lowered them halfway down his thighs.
Ethan wished that he had removed his jacket. The hem obscured his view of Fox's ass.

The doctor uncapped the syringe and pushed the plunger till a bead of liquid oozed from the needle. Fox hooked a thumb in the waistband of his briefs and dragged it down a few inches. The rather elegant curve of his hip was exposed, with a small expanse of pale buttock. Ethan wet his lips, thinking about running his hand along that curve, gripping it and pulling Fox close...

He looked up to find Fox watching him. Ethan didn't try to disguise the interest in his eyes, and Fox looked away quickly.

The doctor swabbed Mulder's skin with alcohol, chilling it. Then he framed a section of skin at Fox's hip and said, "All right, Mr. Ballard. I won't lie to you, this will hurt. But I need you to stand very still. I have to give you this injection slowly. Are you ready?"

"Just a second." Fox took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. "Okay."
The bite of the needle was like a hornet sting, hot and sharp. "Jesus." His hands gripped the side of the table.

"Hang on, Danny." Ethan's voice was encouraging.

"Half way done." the doctor murmured.

He wasn't fucking kidding, it would hurt. The pain radiated, making the entire area covered by the doctor's hand ache.

Finally the sting lessened a little, and he felt the doctor swabbing him again with alcohol. "There. Done."

Fox gingerly rubbed the throbbing spot. "Damn, you'd think that with all the medical research, they'd come up with something a little less painful." He pulled up his pants and refastened them.

"You took that very well." The doctor solemnly pulled a purple sucker out of his jacket pocket and offered it to Fox. "For bravery."

Fox frowned. "Don't you have any red?" Just as solemnly, the doctor produced a red one, and handed it to Fox.

"What about cholera?" Ethan asked, standing up.

"Well, you generally don't have to worry about that, if you're careful about your water and your food. But since that isn't always possible...Wha hav have available isn't really that reliable. There's an oral medication available in Canada or Europe that's much more effective." He cocked his head and said brightly. "Pity the FDA hasn't approved it yet."

"Yes, isn't it."

"You can go on out to the front. I'll send the medicines up with the nurse." He bustled out.

"Hey, wait a minuteox pox protested. "What about you? Don't you have to get a shot?"

"Danny, I stay current on mine." They went up to the front, and Ethan paid the desk clerk. As he was finishing, the nurse came out and handed him a small paper bag.

"Now, be sure that he takes those as scheduled."

"I will." On the way out to the car, Ethan said, "Something's bothering you. What is it?"

"Why does everyone keep talking around me? The medicine is for ME, but they gave it to you, and gave you instruction on making me take it. I'm starting to feel like I'm about twelve years old."

"This is how the Galbraith-Ballard relationship works. You need to get used to it... Danny."

Fox opened the bag and peered at it's contents. "There's two bottles in here, both of them with handwritten labels."

"Typhoid and cholera medicine."

"I thought he said that the cholera medicine wasn't available in the US?"

"It isn't."

"Oh."

The next stop was a small photography studio. "We could have just done this in one of those quarter photo booths, couldn't we?" Fox asked.

"We could. But you insist on the best, and I indulge you."

"I'm high maintenance, aren't I?"

"But you're worth it."

In the studio, Fox was positioned in front of a plain white backdrop. Ethan said, "Hang on." Taking a comb from his pocket, he arranged Fox's hair more to his satisfaction, giving it a final smooth with his palm. "Okay, now you're ready."

As the photographer snapped the picture, Fox wondered at himself. I must be better at this assuming another person's identity than I thought I was. Having him touch me is starting to feel almost (good) normal.