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Victim of the Game
by CKing

Part II


He and his friends were loafing on a raft in the middle of a pond. His friend Paul's father owned it, and it was perfect. The pond was away from the house, away from adult eyes, and surrounded by tall leafy trees. It was deep, so deep none of the kids had ever been able to dive to the bottom. There was a wooden platform made of planks fastened to rusty fifty-gallon drums in the middle of the pond. Perfect for young boys to dive off of.

Alex and his friends were all between the ages of ten and thirteen. They had been going there every summer since they were nine. They had to dive, didn't they? It was essential. Failure to dive would cause a boy to be ostracized, called coward, not be part of the group any more. Such a fate was the worst thing imaginable for a young active boy with no clear concept of death.

Some dove, some boys did cannonballs off the raft, or plummeted in a deadman's fall. Alex always dove. He worked on perfecting his dive. Getting the spring up just so, his fold over precise, his straightening into a perfect jackknife that sliced down through water, deep, and deeper still. Straining to reach the bottom. Diving through the brown, thick, muddy water, he couldn't even see his hand before his face. Dark shapeless shadows would glide past him, barely seen, causing him to shudder.

The boys all told tales of the denizens of the water. Water snakes, pike with huge fangs, snapping turtles that could take your hand off, a dinosaur—an ichthyo—whatchyamacall it...

This time Alex had decided he was going to make it to the bottom for sure. His dive was perfect, he hit the water with barely a splash, cutting deeply through the water. He stretched out and swam down. The deeper he swam, the darker the water. Eventually there was no light at all except a dull bronze glow far above. He'd never been so deep, or under for so long. He suddenly realized that it was getting harder to hold his breath. He hadn't made the bottom. Disappointment came, but he consoled himself. There would be other attempts. He would make it eventually. Satisfied that he had gone farther than anyone else, into a realm no boy had previously reached, he decided to turn back.

He kicked upwards. His lungs were tight, he needed air. He could feel the strain on his body. His ears were tight with the pressure, getting painful. His lungs demanded he open his mouth to suck in air, only there wasn't any air there. He swam harder, taking long powerful strokes with his legs straight, pushing from the hips, not the knees. Real fear was starting to set in now, and he could see the bronze glow far overhead. He extended his arms over his head, reaching for the life giving light and air above. There was a cold slimy touch against his leg. His heart leapt into his mouth. The monster! No, it moved on. In the faint light he could just see that it was a big cat fish. Moving lazily through the water looking for food. The slimy touch had startled him. He felt disoriented. Blindly, he started toward what he hoped was the right direction. His extended hands crashed into something, narrowly avoiding hitting his head. Slimy tendrils brushed against his face and arms, the surface under his hands was hard under a soft, squishy, furry surface. His body demanded air.

Now, please, God, now! I need air!

He struggled frantically. Something was holding him down, keeping him in the cold, dark water, killing him, drowning him. Tight bands crushed his chest. He had never known anything to hurt so much in his eleven years. He pushed and struggled against the thing holding him down, in the dark, away from the air and life. He knew that at any moment he would open his mouth and scream, and water would rush in, he would drown, he would die before his twelfth birthday.

He suddenly realized that he was beneath the raft. Shoving to the side and away, he burst to the surface, gasping and blue-faced. The other kids were still splashing and playing, unaware of what had almost happened. Alex was very aware. He would never forget the feeling that went through him.

Until the silo, he was never able to imagine anything more horrifying or more bleakly agonizing than to be out of air and be held prisoner by some-thing-in the water. But the immediacy of death was nothing to the sickening, hopeless, and bleak terror associated with knowing that fate had set its hand against you and there was no escape.

Alex felt like he was under the water again, and something was holding him down. Something that was malevolent and active and evil and wanted him dead. He struggled against it, but its hold was too tight. The tight bands were around his chest again. The feeling of something there with him, something unpleasant, was stronger than he could ever remember. He could sense the other trying to lull him into a false sense of safety. The other wanted him to accept it, to allow it to get closer. It was almost crooning to him. He knew better. The other wasn't benign, it wanted to replace him, to take his place.

Alex fought, because it wasn't in his nature to go without a fight. He was a survivor, he would prevail, he had to. The other cried out in frustration as he put up his walls and closed himself to it.

xx

Mulder walked into the bedroom with the new files that Spectre had been able to obtain over the computer. IRS records for Sarcus International. He carried the files in one hand and a glass of tea in the other. Krycek lay as he had for the last two days. He was on his back, unmoving. His face was tight, strained, the color washed out. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body. Mulder sat the file and glass on the dresser and moved closer to check on the unconscious man. Whatever Krycek was dreaming, if he was dreaming, it wasn't pleasant.

Krycek's left arm had been growing back steadily since he had slipped into the coma. Spectre had been scared the first time she saw the end of the arm moving, extending, as the alien inside Krycek rebuilt it. She'd read Krycek's medical files from the Russian tape he supplied, but reading it and seeing it were two different things. Mulder had to do some fast talking to convince her it was safe.

Mulder saw that the arm was now complete, even the hand in place. Mulder had been fascinated watching the process of the arm's regrowth. Spectre finally got over her initial distrust of the situation. She had even started spelling Mulder, giving him breaks in monitoring Krycek for any sign of distress.

Mulder gently ran his hand over the skin of the perfectly formed arm. It felt completely normal. In fact, it was very, very soft, rather like the skin of a child. He turned the palm up carefully, not wanting to cause any harm. He saw that the finger tips were complete, down to the finger prints. Although he couldn't swear to their accuracy without a print kit. He compared the two arms. The only thing giving away the strange nature of the left arm was that the skin on that arm had obviously never been exposed to weather or hard work.

Scully came into the room with her medical bag. "Mulder, I got your call. What...?" Her eyes widened in shock as she saw the fully formed left arm in Mulder's hands.

Mulder looked over his shoulder at her and grinned. "I'd say re-growing an arm wasn't beyond his capabilities Scully."

She moved forward slowly. "This is incredible, Mulder. Even lizards can't re-grow limbs that quickly."

She moved to the head of the bed and began a quick exam of the still unconscious man. She pried his eyelids open and examined the pupils with a pen light.

"Has he awoken at all?"

"Not yet. But his temperature is down, and he seems more relaxed."

She looked over to the new limb as Mulder gently flexed the supple hand and wrist, moving them through a full range of motion. Mulder couldn't stop the grin spreading over his face at her shocked expression. He laid the arm gently on the bed and stood back to give her room as she started a more thorough medical exam. Scully finally announced that other than still being unconscious, and dehydrated, Krycek seemed to be in good health. She took several vials of blood for further testing.

Turning toward her partner, she closed up her bag. "I'm going to see what I can find out. Let me know if anything changes."

As she moved to the door she rested her hand on his arm and squeezed slightly. It was her "You're doing fine" touch. Mulder smiled back at her affectionately as he closed the door behind her.

xx

As he struggled up from the depths to awareness, the first thing Krycek was conscious of was the desperate desire for water, followed closely by the need for food. He started to panic, thinking he was back in the silo, then he realized there was a soft light in the room. Slowly taking in his surroundings, memory returned. Looking off to the side, he saw Mulder slouched in a chair next to a table, reading files by a soft light. Mulder was wearing his glasses and seemed absorbed in his reading. Krycek lay quietly, his breath slowing to normal, enjoying the peaceful scene.

Mulder was in a long sleeved shirt and jeans, his legs stretched out in front of him, bare feet showing below casually crossed ankles. The gentle light cast warm shadows on the beautiful face, his glasses reflecting the light back into the room. Krycek's gaze traveled over the elegant body. He took in the graceful arms, biceps that didn't deserve to be hidden by sleeves, past the rolled-up cuffs just below the elbows, to the forearms that might have been carved by a Roman artisan. Krycek could feel a tightness in his chest that was worse than the hollow feeling in his stomach. He tried to swallow, but found his mouth too dry.

ulder reached over to the table to pick up his glass and his eyes fell on the bed. He was surprised to see teal green eyes staring at him. He grinned uncertainly at the unblinking gaze and leaned forward a little.

"Huh. You've decided to rejoin the living Krycek?"

Krycek tried to answer, but nothing would come out. Mulder frowned and came to his side. Krycek managed a squeak this time.

"Hold on." Mulder turned and left the room. Krycek reached out to stop him, but was too slow. Before he could gather himself to sit up in the bed, Mulder was back bearing a glass of cold water. Mulder put his arm around Krycek's back and helped him to sit up in the bed. He kept his arm around the younger man's shoulders and helped steady the glass as Krycek gratefully sipped the chilled water. He leaned his head back, his eyes closed in pleasure as the water cooled his parched throat. Mulder patiently held him until he'd finished, then moved the pillows against the headboard and eased him back onto them.

Mulder couldn't finger his emotions right then, but relief was the closest he could come to. But it wasn't only that, his feelings were confused and he wasn't sure what he'd really been anticipating, he just knew it felt good to see the man awake again.

Krycek looked into the concerned hazel eyes and tried again. "How long?"

It was barely a voice, but Mulder relaxed as he heard it.

"You've been out over two days. How do you feel?"

"Wrung out. I miss anything?"

"No. We've made a little progress, but you didn't miss much."

Krycek's eyes followed Mulder's to his left arm. His eyes widened as he saw the new limb. He flexed it experimentally, clenching and unclenching his hand several times. He looked up at Mulder with a smile that was dazzling. It was pure, unaffected, and from the heart. It simply wasn't fair, what that smile did to him. He was used to seeing Krycek smirk, never this simple joy. Mulder felt its punch behind his sternum.

"I'm whole again," Krycek laughed, a soul-releasing sound of joy despite his raspy voice. "I'm whole again."

He held the hand in front of his face and opened and closed it over and over. Mulder noticed the lines deepened at the corners of Krycek's eyes as a huge, happy smile split his face. Mulder couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of his own mouth. He laid his hand on Krycek's shoulder gently. Krycek turned toward him, his face flushed, ecstatic.

Krycek's face softened, calmed. Eyes the color of summer leaves deep in a forest burned into Mulder's. Mulder found himself caught by the cool fire of the gaze. It danced its way into him the way it had years ago. Krycek raised the new left hand toward Mulder's face, then hesitated. Mulder's mouth curved into a gentle smile of tolerance. Krycek searched his face, delight and relief vying for equal time on his own face. The silken hand stroked gently along the strong jawline. Mulder could see Krycek's eyes laugh in delight at the rough beard stubble still there. The fingers ran over the roughness, then drifted up to the smooth cheek above, then back down several times. Meeting no resistance, the hand continued up the planes of his face.

Mulder shuddered as he remembered the skin on those fingertips was only hours old. Krycek was stroking him so softly he almost couldn't feel it. Krycek's face showed the joy, the wonder, at simply being able to feel again, to touch. His hand caressed Mulder's face with the wonderment of a man greeting his newborn child for the first time. The tips of his fingers sketched over Mulder's cheek bones then up the side of his face, gently tracing over every detail. The soft touch on his face was like being loved by a feather and it caused a shimmering warm awareness through cells that were utterly susceptible.

Mulder's own hand came up and gently ran along Krycek's left arm. Underneath the child soft skin was firm, developed muscle. The alien had apparently bulked the muscle as it went so the arm looked natural. Krycek couldn't stop a sigh of pleasure at the feel of the fingers going up and down his arm, stimulating new nerve endings delightfully. There was a light behind those green eyes as he stroked the arm and Krycek's hand continued to explore his face. A tiny smile, more light. The fingers stroked over his lips, and the lips parted slightly. Aurora Borealis.

Mulder smiled, then his smile broadened until it turned into that lovely, silent laugh of his. Krycek's breath came out in a soft, shimmering sigh of surrender.

God, he could stop my heart when he laughs like that—

Their gazes locked, the expression on Alex's face triggering little charges of excitement in all Mulder's major erogenous zones. Mulder's eyes stayed on Krycek's face. Those incredible eyes were making promises to him, promises that had his heart racing. His mouth felt dry... then lonely... and he wanted to kiss the soft, slightly parted mouth in front of him.

Mulder suddenly pulled back, mentally shaking himself. What in the world was he doing thinking about kissing Alex Krycek? Standing, he shook his head literally this time, causing a brown swathe of hair to fall over his forehead. His internal monitor called him ten types of fool. How could he forget who this man was? How dangerous he was?

He stepped back from the bed. Krycek looked up at him, the joy on his face fading as he saw the emotions play across Mulder's face. The agent's expression was an amalgam of emotions, not the least of which was regret.

Krycek's eyes studied him for several heartbeats before finding haven in the inanimate anonymity of the blanket. He knew Mulder could never forget what he'd done. His past was like an ink stain on a blotter, dark and totally indelible. A man with an eidetic memory would certainly never forget it. Krycek relaxed back onto the bed, suddenly tired again. He idly traced patterns on the cover with his left hand, keeping his eyes turned from the FBI man.

Mulder turned toward the door. "I'm going to get you a tray. Try to behave yourself for a few minutes."

He looked back over his shoulder and a tight little smile played at the corner of Krycek's mouth. It was wry and sad. In all the time Mulder had known him, he couldn't remember ever seeing that combination before on Krycek. It gave an exploratory touch to the moment. Mulder was standing ten feet away, a distance that should have been safe, yet, as he looked at Krycek sitting amid those sheets, he felt himself being pulled into dangerous waters.

He was more certain than ever that helping Krycek with this was foolish. It was too dangerous, mentally and emotionally. But Fox Mulder had never been a real fan of safe, it was a close cousin to boring. He turned away from the look in those eyes and hurried to the kitchen.

Alex lay back on the bed. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of anything but the exquisite intimacy of Mulder's touch on his skin. It was useless. He wanted Mulder. Recklessly. Dangerously. Damned near beyond all reason. With a hunger that went to the marrow of his bones. And he knew with a dread certainty that he could never have him. Their lives were too different.

Alex had just finished his tour of duty with the army and started college when the smoker had come to see him. The man told him that he had worked with his father before and had followed Alex's career. He told Alex a lot of things. Upon graduating from college, Alex was recruited to work with the SSO. The Special Security Operations. Founded in 1944 in conjunction with the Manhattan Project; afterwards, its mandate extended in a more general way: "To protect the scientific primacy of the USA while guiding science to the benefit of mankind." A noble statement, and it turned out, completely irrelevant to the actual operations of the group. Finally, the smoker had tried to eliminate him. At that point he was free, but running.

He was still running. His life was fucked, and he could only blame himself. He just went from one bad situation to the next. He just kept plugging away. He'd never been a quitter, sooner or later he'd find the way out of this.

Mulder came into the room with a plate of food and a tall glass of water. He found Krycek leaning back against the headboard with his eyes closed. His face tight with a deep weariness and sorrow. Krycek's eyes suddenly flew open as he sensed someone enter the room.

For an instant, in the collision of their glances, there was transparency. Mulder saw pain and vulnerability and loneliness-until the curtain descended again. Krycek's eyes shuttered, his face calm and unemotional as he looked up at the FBI man. Mask firmly in place.

That coolly remote mask of Krycek's, which had replaced the animated, expressive face, had a visceral effect on Mulder. He felt cheated. A surge of anger went through him as he looked at the mask. His hands tightened around the edges of the tray as he fought the urge to attack the other man, to force him to release the mask and show his true emotions again, even if only in pain.

Krycek saw the signs of anger coming over Mulder. He tensed unconsciously. He was uneasy about that violent, unpredictable element that pulsed beneath Mulder's normally calm facade. Masked by the man's ostensibly contemplative exterior was a current that made dealing with him feel like playing with a live electrical wire. It was lethal-but it was also the source of all that power.

Mulder could see Krycek tensing, his face betraying anxiety at the threat of violence he sensed. With an effort, Mulder forced calm on himself. He sat the tray on the bedside table without a comment, ignoring the way Krycek tracked him with his eyes intensely. Mulder went back to his chair and picked up the files he had been reading.

Krycek looked at him for a few moments, sighed, and started in on the breakfast. After his meal, Krycek drifted back to sleep. A real, restful sleep this time.

Mulder quietly removed his chair from the room and went to his own bedroom. As he relaxed, he wondered at the feelings that had come over him. He had half been hoping that the alien would come through, that he could talk to it. It surprised him that all he felt was relief that it was just Krycek again. He hadn't been ready for the other feelings Krycek produced in him.

Pulling the pillow over his face, he growled into it in frustration. Sleep that night had been a stop gap measure. The next morning found Mulder as tense as he'd been the night before. He got up early and went for a long morning run.

Spectre had promised to watch out for Krycek when he woke, assuming it was before noon. When she checked on him later she found him awake and trying to climb out of bed. He achieved an upright, if unsteady posture, then noticed her in the doorway. He started, and reached for the sheets to cover his nakedness. Unfortunately, he over-compensated. The new, wonderful arm was throwing his balance off. He fell onto the floor in a swirl of sheets.

Spectre leaned against the door frame, hands over her mouth, and tried to contain her giggles. The low grumbles coming from the tangle on the floor didn't help her self-control any. His head popped out of the sheets and he gave her a murderous look. His pride was further damaged as her snickers got much worse. He struggled to his feet, keeping the sheets wrapped around him.

"Do you mind?"

Spectre choked down further giggles and tried to put on a serious expression. "I just came to see if you were all right."

"I'm fine. Thank you."

He started toward the closet and almost tripped on the sheet. Spectre made an abortive dive forward to catch him, then froze at his expression.

"Look, Alex. You're still weak, let me help you. For heaven's sake, I bathed you while you were indisposed."

"You... what?"

"Well, someone had to. You wouldn't want another man touching you down there, right?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing would come out.

Spectre charged on. "I bet you'd really like a shower. Come on, I'll help you get there."

"Where's Mulder?"

"He went out to run and get fresh air. He'll be back in a little. Now, come on."

"I'll be fine."

"Uh huh. Look, Bucko, I saw you when this first started. You aren't supposed to be that white. You aren't well yet. So you need a hand. I'm offering. So shut up and let me help you."

She matched him glare for glare, refusing to back down. He tried to step forward, and decided that maybe she was right. The corner of his mouth turned up and he gave a shallow bow to her.

"How can I argue with such a charming and persuasive damsel?"

Spectre snorted lightly, "Are you always so full of beans?"

"I regret, you aren't seeing me at my best, my lady."

"God, it gets worse."

She smiled to take the sting out of it. She moved forward and opened his closet. She pulled jeans and a shirt off the rack and then reached for his duffel.

"Don't."

This time she froze at the command. This tone didn't tolerate non-compliance. She looked back at him silently. Krycek dipped his chin in apology and started forward.

"I'll get my underclothes."

She moved back. He looked at her and gave a little boy smile.

"Would you grab my toiletry kit from the dresser please?"

She nodded and turned to the dresser. He pulled his clothes from the bag and closed it before she could get back to his side. Together, they got him into the shower. He leaned on her as they walked, though she could tell he was keeping most of his weight off her. He was skinny right now, but he wasn't a small man. She was acutely aware of the warm body, that he wore nothing under the sheet, even though she couldn't see anything.

As she shut the door from the outside she giggled again at the loud groan she heard as the water hit him. She moved to the computer. She had been wanting to try out a new game she'd brought in her luggage. With the power of the machine at her disposal right now, it should be awesome. Soon the speakers were putting out the inhuman grunts, growls and snarls of predators as she moved through a virtual maze filled with alien monstrosities.

She was thoroughly absorbed in the program when she felt a leaf—brush of a touch against her arm. She shrieked, jumped, and whirled in her chair to meet the imagined threat.

Alex Krycek jumped back, equally surprised, two cups of coffee in his hands. He had dressed in a long sleeved, baggy white shirt and jeans. It was the edge of the sleeve that had touched her as he had moved to put the coffee on her desk. At her yell he jumped back then tripped and landed on his rump when his shaky knees wouldn't hold him. Miraculously, he kept the mugs upright.

"Don't do that," they cried in chorus. Then they stared at each other for a few moments. Spectre dissolved into helpless giggles. Krycek glared, then the corner of his mouth turned up reluctantly into a tight grin.

When Mulder got back from his run he found Krycek standing by the computer next to Spectre. She was turned in her chair facing Alex, a frustrated look on her face.

"You are full of turkey stuffing."

"Such an enlightened, cogent rebuttal," Krycek sneered at her coolly.

"I knew you'd see it my way."

He ran his hand through his hair. "And how, the man asks, head aching unbearably, do you propose to pull it off ?"

"With the encryption you propose we'll have to use every foreign language, scientific, and mathematical symbol in the computer. There's no way you can keep it all straight without a translation program."

"I can keep it straight. After the files are encoded all I really need later is to remember the codes I have to send in regularly."

"But they don't make sense either. Come on, I have to be able to work these files, I need a program..."

"I can keep it straight. If there's a translation tape out there my security is breached."

"God, you are so paranoid."

"That's because I'm smarter than you."

"You... you..." Spectre sputtered in outrage.

"Arrogant jerk?" he supplied helpfully.

"Yes!"

"Obnoxious snothead?"

"That, and a devious, secretive SOB!"

Krycek made quite a business of pulling an imaginary dagger from his heart. His silliness even pulled a reluctant grin from Mulder and a chuckle from Spectre.

"You're a hard man to stay mad with," Spectre said in exasperation.

Krycek shrugged. "Now, about this..."

Spectre groaned.

"Make the program," Mulder said from behind Krycek.

Krycek turned toward him angrily. "No, Mulder..."

Mulder moved forward till he stood nearly on top of the younger man. "You want my help, I want a way to unencrypt those files."

"That's too dangerous."

"That's the way it has to be." Krycek shook his head.

"No. Not even for you, Mulder."

Mulder turned to Spectre. "Okay. I want an unencrypted copy of every file. Just one, for myself."

He glared challenge at Krycek. Who looked annoyed, but shrugged. "I don't have any choice, do I?"

"None."

Krycek turned to Spectre. "Do it."

Spectre opened her mouth to object, then stopped as she took in the men's expressions. She nodded. Mulder could see the small muscle working at the side of Krycek's jaw as he clenched his teeth. Then Krycek sighed and nodded.

He headed for the bathroom to get a shower, leaving the other two to work out their problems. Skinner had called and said he wanted to see him, he had refused to discuss it over the phone.

xx

Mulder ran through the rain to the door of the apartment. The meeting he and Scully had to attend with Skinner had lasted longer than he had expected. And he had spent the rest of the afternoon filling out overdue paperwork and trying to follow up on what leads he could. It had been a long and frustrating day. To top things off, the heavy rains they'd been having lately continued with a heavy electrical storm this afternoon.

Mulder eased the door open, trying to prevent the wind catching it. He removed his coat in the entry way then moved into the front room. The warmth of the room seeped into him deliciously. One of his roommates had started the gas fireplace. Delicious smells were coming from the kitchen. Soft classical music came from somewhere in the room. The music was slow and sad and appropriate for the weather outside. The only light in the room came from the fireplace. The computer was off, and there was no sign of Spectre.

As he came in, he heard a squeak and the top of Krycek's head and his eyes appeared over the back of the couch. He also saw a small circular outline; the end of a gun, pointed at him.

"Easy, Krycek. I come in peace."

He heard the hammer eased down on the gun and it disappeared from sight. Krycek's head dropped behind the couch back again. Mulder came further into the room. Krycek lay sprawled on the couch, a stack of paper neatly lying on the coffee table. He was holding a large steaming mug and looked up at Mulder over the edge of it.

"Find anything interesting?"

"I can confidently say that your former boss is quite interested in finding you."

"Yeah, they can't be too happy about Sarcus."

"He showed up in Skinner's office today wanting to know if anybody had heard anything about you. He actually warned me to keep an eye out for you," Mulder grinned slightly.

"Of course. Wouldn't want you running into anyone really dangerous now, would we?"

He blew over the surface of his tea and looked up at Mulder. "Skinner know anything?"

The casual tone didn't fool Mulder for a minute. "No. You keep playing straight with me and he won't."

He turned and moved into the kitchen. "What have you fixed?"

"Spider-crab bisque and calf-brain souffle."

"What?!"

Krycek grinned a got-you look. "Just kidding. Enchiladas with both green and red salsa. And there's fresh tossed salad. For dessert we've got the best margaritas you'll ever have."

Mulder shook his head and went into the kitchen. He came back with a cold beer in his hand. "Where's our hacker?"

"In her room, reading. Didn't want to get on the computer during an electrical storm."

Mulder sat in the chair across from Krycek. They drank in silence for several minutes, Rachmaninoff's music filling the room.

"I would never have pegged you for a closet classical fan, Krycek."

"What makes you think I'm in the closet."

The soft, melodious voice drifted from the depths of the couch. Mulder started slightly at the non sequitur. He looked sharply over at Krycek and saw the other man trying his damnedest for an innocent expression. Mulder frowned and gave it up as a lost cause. Krycek sat up on the couch.

"There's a lot you don't know about me Mulder." He put his mug down on the table. "I usually like more contemporary stuff, but this helps me unwind."

Krycek stood with a smooth, lithe movement. "I'd better check so I don't burn dinner. Why don't you get Spectre."

He moved into the kitchen with a feline glide, away from Mulder's questions.

Dinner had gone well. The enchiladas had Monterey jack cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and instead of green chilies, Krycek had used jalapeno peppers. The peppers made Mulder's eyes water. It was the best meal he'd had in a long time. He felt himself relax and begin enjoying the evening.

Krycek and Spectre kept the conversation going throughout the dinner. The two of them had a lively discussion of their college days. They even dragged Mulder into the conversation a few times. Although they'd all gone to widely different types of colleges, the basic situations weren't that different.

Soon they were all laughing with Krycek and Spectre trying to top each other with most outrageous/funniest stories. Mulder had seldom heard Krycek laugh. It was a good sound, a healthy sound filled with pleasure and appreciation. It made him glad to be here in this room.

Krycek insisted Mulder and Spectre try his Margaritas. He claimed to make the best they'd ever tasted. After tasting it, they had to agree with him. The drink made Mulder's mouth pucker with joy. Salt from the rim of the glass stuck to his lips. Krycek stared at the pink tongue removing the salt from that incredible lower lip. His own throat felt suddenly tight. He had to fight the urge to offer to remove the salt for Mulder. His stomach turned with a deep longing.

Mulder glanced over and felt his face tingle at the look on Krycek's face. Krycek's eyes were staring into his with a hunger that made him uncomfortable. Mulder's eyes fled first, then his face as he looked away. When he turned back Krycek had dropped his gaze. He gave Mulder a diffident, under-the-brow grin, then got up and went into the kitchen, ostensibly to get a new drink.

Mulder sat his unfinished drink on the table and moved into the sitting area. The lanky agent sat on the couch and stared into the fireplace, trying to calm his confused thoughts. Despite Mulder's experience as a profiler, Krycek still managed to confuse him, to throw him off balance.

Mulder had thought he knew the rules of the game. He'd thought he had been ready for whatever they could throw at him. Deception was the norm, trust no one. It was a good rule. He'd learned it the hard way.

When Krycek had first shown up Mulder had known the man was up to no good. He'd known he couldn't trust him and had made it clear from the start that he didn't. Yet, somehow Krycek managed to weasel his way in anyway. Mulder had started to trust him, to really like him.

Now he knew the entire relationship had been a lie. A treacherous void of reasons opened up before him. An abyss he most definitely did not want to enter.

What was it Nietzsche said? /Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster; and when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you./

Mulder laughed grimly to himself. From Keats to Nietzsche, with classical music in the background. Not the type of night he would have expected with Alex Krycek.

Krycek had showered before going to bed, now he was dressed and almost ready for his next destination. He'd told Mulder that he was going to bed, claiming that the healing still made him need a lot of sleep. Mulder had seemed to accept this with no problem.

Krycek locked the door to his bedroom and waited. After a couple of hours he decided it was safe enough. During his time as an intelligence operative and then when he was on the run, Krycek had remained alive in part because he had a professional's ability to distinguish between acceptable risks and foolhardy ones. Being a professional required more than just making judgments based on training, experience and ability. It required a particular attitude—a balance between commitment and objectivity.

Krycek had this attitude in the beginning. He'd been good at his job, for awhile. Then he'd been assigned to Fox Mulder. Krycek had lost his commitment. He became sick of the objectivity that left him feeling detached from everything around him, that made him feel dead even as it kept him alive. He'd started making mistakes. He'd paid for that ever since then. He would start to regain the attitude needed, start to make progress recovering, then fate would throw Fox Mulder at him again. Krycek would lose all the ground he'd gained. But he definitely felt the commitment now, more than at any time in his life. He was totally, obsessively determined to complete this mission. His very life depended on it. This was not a situation he could run from or delay dealing with. It was urgent now. He would do whatever it took, he desperately prayed it would not require him to betray Mulder again.

He pulled his soft leather duffel from the floor of his closet. Rummaging, he pulled out a square plastic box from the bottom of the bag. He opened it to reveal dozens of small stoppered test tubes of green viscous liquid. A foam insert kept each protected in an upright position. It had been a difficult but essential job getting these through customs.

It frightened him that he was beginning to feel a need for the green fluid. At first he took it only because if he didn't he would get sick as the alien became ill from the lack. He always waited as long as he could, and took as little as he could get away with drinking. Now he was starting to want it. Like a junky needing a fix.

He pulled two vials from the case, laying one on the bed as he held the other. Grimacing, he pulled the stopper on the test tube then tipped it up to drink the vile liquid. The taste almost made him gag, but repeated exposure was making it easier. He frowned at the empty tube and carefully replaced it in the box before putting the box away in his duffel. He could sense a deep inner purr of satisfaction.

His own tension escalated at the increased strength of the signal he got from the alien. Time was running out.

Laying out his leather jacket on the bed, he took out one of the slim throwing knives from his ankle sheath and pried at an inner seam in the lining of the jacket. He extracted two loose diamonds from the pocket. In his experience, it was easier to carry large amounts of cash in the form of loose gems and small jewelry versus wads of bills. Less likely to be noticed; and if he was stopped, no one would think to look there. There were several loose gems sewn into the lining of the battered looking jacket. The only problem was getting the gems fenced. But major cities in every country had people capable of handling the stones.

He pulled the comfortable jacket over his dark blue shirt. Black jeans and sneakers completed his outfit. The vial of green fluid went into one of the inner jacket pockets. He silently opened the window and slid out. Luckily, it was only a two story townhouse apartment, an easy drop for him to the ground.

xx

(Pennsylvania)

Alex moved easily through the crowded bar. He slid up to the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice him. Jaak Danko was over six five and built like a heavyweight boxer. He and his brother Carl served as both bartenders and bouncers as needed.

Alex grinned as the blonde giant turned and saw him, his eyes widening. "Zdrastviytye, Jaak."

"Alex! Kag dyela? It's been too long."

He reached over and clasped Alex's shoulder briefly, then reached under the bar and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Without asking, he poured some in a glass with orange juice and handed it to Alex.

Alex lifted it slightly in gratitude, "Spasiba, Jaak."

"Pazhalsta," he laughed slightly. "I don't get to use my Russian much, Alex. I'm glad you're back. You'll be in trouble with Bailey, though. You know how she feels about you not keeping in touch."

"Couldn't be helped, Jaak."

"Uh huh, explain that to her."

He laughed at the look of dread that came over Alex's face.

"Worse than my mother,"Alex grumbled, finishing his drink.

He turned to examine the crowd. Bailey's club seemed to be doing well. The place was near capacity and the crowd seemed to like the performer on stage. That wasn't surprising, Bailey was very particular in hiring talent.

Scanning, he saw a face that made him freeze.

He turned back to the bar and Jaak came over, replacing Alex's glass without asking.

"Jaak, you see that guy over in the corner to my right? Thin, black shirt, gray hair in a pony tail the size of a Chihuahua's penis?"

Jaak scanned the room, his eyes never settling anywhere. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I knew him when I was with the Bureau. If he calls his friends in, I'm a dead man."

Jaak frowned. "Do you want Carl and me to take care of him?"

"No. He's too dangerous. Stay away from him. Just let me into the back, okay?"

At Jaak's nod, Alex moved to the door concealed by heavy plants beside the bar. Jaak pushed a button and Alex was able to enter silently. Alex walked through the hallway past the door to the performer's dressing rooms to the owner's office. He knocked and the door opened almost immediately.

Standing in front of him was a very attractive woman in a tight black dress. She stood five-eight in heels and appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties. Her hair was a rich auburn and hung on her shoulders in soft waves. Makeup was applied professionally over porcelain skin. The only flaw with this vision was an Adam's apple. It was small, hard to notice, but there. When she saw Alex her mouth curved into a sensuous smile and her eyes raked over him.

"Alex," her voice was a husky purr, practiced, and designed to cause warmth in a man's groin.

He gave her one of his most charming smiles. "Bailey, it's good to see you again."

"What a pleasant surprise. Did you know that Pennsylvania now has a working telephone system?"

Alex smiled. "I know how you like surprises."

"Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't," She paused for effect. "This kind I do."

He accepted her kiss on his cheek, then entered the office as she stepped aside and shut the door behind him.

"It's been a long time, Alex. I thought they might have finally gotten you."

"Not quite, but they've been close a time or two. I've been... out of circulation for awhile." He was surprised at the bitterness in his own voice.

She held his arm gently and guided him to the wing chair beside her desk. She sat him in the chair, then went to the small office bar and prepared them both drinks. He watched as she glided over to him with the drink. She handed him a brandy snifter holding a richly colored liquid, then ran her hand along the side of his face affectionately. Leaning back against her desk, she coolly assessed him. His clothes, his weight, skin color, everything was examined and analyzed. In moments she had a good guess how life had been for him.

She smiled slightly at him, then took a delicate drink from her glass. Alex took a healthy swallow of his own drink. The single drink scorched its way down his throat, blasting heat to every organ in his body. His eyes bulged and sweat beaded on his forehead as the fiery trail of liquid burned through him.

He gasped. "This stuff is six hundred proof."

Bailey smiled evilly. "Slivovity. Polish plum brandy. With your Russian heritage, I thought you'd like it." She took a sip of her own drink. "After a few shots of this, you could have your leg amputated and never notice."

Alex sat the glass down on the desk. He was not happy to sense the alien in him stirring, a surge of curiosity. He mentally slammed up walls to keep the inquisitive thing from interfering. Since he'd woken from his coma he'd noticed the alien's awareness more often. It was starting to get more curious about "the outside".

"What can I do for you, Alex? Other than the obvious." She smiled wantonly.

"And when are you going to let me show you exactly how good I can be for you?"

He smiled warmly at her. "Ah, so that was your plan, get me drunk and have your way with me." He shook his head. "You never give up, do you?"

She looked back mock seriously. "It is not necessary to hope in order to undertake, nor to succeed in order to persevere. I am determined, I will have you, Alexander Krycek."

He got up and walked over to her. "Bailey, you are beautiful as ever," his voice low and rich. "And you are dear to me. But you know my heart belongs to another."

Her smile was sad. "Why is it that you can never appreciate what's in your hand, Alex? You always want the unattainable. Sometimes, you cause even me to despair of hope for you." She put one hand to the side of his face again. "If you weren't so damn handsome..."

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. "I really can't stay, Bailey. I don't have a lot of time."

Reaching into his pocket, he removed the diamonds. He took Bailey's hand and placed the diamonds in it. Her eyes widened as the perfectly cut diamonds fluoresced in the halogen lights of the office.

"Those are investor quality," Alex said quietly. "They should bring around ten grand if you find the right buyer."

"What do you want me to do Alex?"

"Sell them. I need some papers. ID cards for some places and whatever info you can get on them. You keep whatever money is left over, of course."

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "Those are the names of the companies I'm interested in."

She scanned the list quickly, her lips pursed. "Big companies. It may take a day or two."

"Try to get your people to hurry. Time is important."

She nodded. Moving to the other side of her desk, she pulled out a camera. She waved a hand at the far wall. "Move over there. I'll get pictures for the photo IDs."

He complied and she took several shots.

Then he moved to her again. "I also need the computer tapes I asked you to hold for me."

She looked at him for a moment, then turned back to her desk. She put down the camera and picked up the heavy paperweight on the desk. Moving to the far wall, she proceeded to smash the weight through the thin plaster of the wall. Reaching in, she pulled out a sealed plastic box holding a computer tape. He had several tapes holding different parts of the files from the DAT tape he'd had before. If someone tried to force him to give up the info, he could do it in stages, buy himself time. The tapes were widely scattered in hidden spots.

She turned to him and pouted. "I've broken two nails."

He grinned and walked to her. "I owe you, Bailey. When things settle down I'll buy you dinner in the restaurant of your choice."

She looked at her nails, then pointedly at the wall. "Dinner and dancing, Alex."

He chuckled softly. "You have a deal. When this is over."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Have you got the other tapes hidden elsewhere?"

"They're safe. I can get them tomorrow if you want."

"Leave them for now, but I will want them later. Do you remember where to take them if anything happens to me?"

She nodded. "To your ex-partner." She frowned darkly. "Is that a likely possibility, Alex?"

"Challenging these men is a lot like challenging a school of piranha to a game of water polo," he gave a tight smile. "But I always manage to come out alive."

"Well, they say you measure a man by the opposition it takes to discourage him." She did not sound happy at this.

He took her hand and kissed it softly. "I promise I won't take any unnecessary risks." Then he grinned. "You know me, I always look out for number one first."

She tried to smile. "That has always made it easier when you leave."

She silently reflected that he wasn't the only fool that always wanted the unattainable. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. They stayed that way for several minutes. Disentangling himself, he turned and headed for the door. As he opened it he came face to face with Jaak.

Jaak looked at him and Bailey apologetically. "Alex, that man you pointed out? He has friends with him now. I think he did see you."

"Shit! I bet they've got every exit covered." He looked around the office futilely.

"It's trite," Bailey said suddenly, "But there is a way to sneak you out of here."

He looked at her hopefully. "Trapdoor?"

She giggled. "Sorry, no. You'll have to go out in drag."

"What!!? I have to what?" he started sputtering. "No! If they catch me like that..."

"They won't catch you, Alex. We won't let them. They won't even see you. The right dress, a wig, makeup, you'll make a lovely girl. You have such beautiful, delicate features. And Jaak can escort you out so no one will molest you. Act like you're his for the night."

Now her grin was positively evil, and Jaak was chuckling. Alex groaned from deep in his chest. Somewhere inside him, something perked up in curiosity. Bailey got two of the performers to help, and in a surprisingly short time they had Alex in full drag. He had a thick brunette wig and a long emerald dress. Alex pouted as the makeup was applied. He outright growled when one performer opined that Alex looked like he already had mascara on and what a pretty performer he'd make. Jaak had to forcefully shove Alex back into the chair.

They borrowed one of the performer's carry bags and stuffed Alex's clothes and weapon in it. Thanks to the nature of the performers they didn't have as much trouble getting shoes to fit as they had feared. He now wore a lovely pair of pumps. He stumbled when he first tried to walk in them, and the promised mayhem in his fierce eyes as he looked at the others was all that kept the giggles down.

Aurora, one of the performers, hid her laugh behind a hand and shook her head. "No, you can't walk like a jock in these darling. Short steps, move the hips."

She demonstrated and then came up behind Alex, placing hands on his hips. "Now walk, slow, and put some swing in it."

Alex felt his face burning fiery red as he took several steps. It didn't help when Bailey gave him a polite golf clap.

Alex pulled away from Aurora. "Look, I just have to get out of the building, I don't need to do the cat walk."

Bailey raised one eyebrow, her eyes shining. "Are you sure of that?"

Alex's mouth dropped open momentarily, then he shook his head. "Never! I'll take my chances with Martinez and company outside."

Bailey laughed in delight. "You big baby, Alex. You don't have to."

She whipped out a camera and took a quick snap shot. Alex was across the room immediately, even in the long dress.

Jaak intercepted him, Alex bouncing off the thick chest. "Bailey! What...?"

"You'll get it back, Alex. This is the deposit on that dinner and dancing. I swear to you that no one else will see it."

Alex could hear the deep rumble of suppressed laughter in Jaak's chest. Alex's Russian curses caused the laughter to increase. Fuming, Alex stepped back from Jaak. He forgot the dress though, the only thing keeping him from falling on his butt was Jaak's arms coming around him.

Alex looked up at the big man."Tell me again why this is better than shooting it out with the Marine Corps?"

"It'll be all right, moy druk. Your honor is safe with me."

"Great, another comedian heard from..."

He stood straight and ignored the choked giggles from the room. Jaak stayed at Alex's side, his arm around Alex's waist possessively, the carry bag over his other shoulder. Alex wasn't surprised to see that there were several Consortium agents in the club now. It was easy to spot most of them, they were looking at the clientele and performers with undisguised dislike. They glared at Alex and Jaak, but didn't approach.

As soon as they were in Jaak's car and safely away from the club, Alex had the wig off and was scrubbing at his face with a handkerchief. Jaak wisely stayed silent.

"First decent place you see where I can change, go there." Alex grumbled irritably, pulling off the uncomfortable shoes.

Jaak nodded solemnly, "Da." He worked to keep his expression neutral.

xx

Mulder was furious. He'd waited most of the morning for Krycek to wake up, still nothing. Knocking on the door, no matter how loud, had no effect. Fearing that Krycek had slipped into another coma, he'd finally forced the door. A gentle breeze was moving the curtain to the window, leaving no doubt about how the man left. Mulder threw the door to the closet open, surprised to see Krycek's things were all still there.

But then, it made no sense for Krycek to run out on them, this was his mission, he came to them for help. So that meant he had to be up to something illegal, or immoral, that he didn't want Mulder to know about.

Angry, Mulder decided to go through Krycek's things to see if he could find any clues. The leather jacket was gone. The pockets of the army coat didn't hold anything of importance. The garment bag didn't have pockets and held only a couple of suits. The toiletry kit on the dresser was innocent as well. That left only the stuffed duffel sitting on the floor of the closet.

Sorting through the bag, he found what he'd expected, underclothes, T—shirts, odds and ends. He found five stacks of currency in the bottom of the bag. Doing a quick mental tally, he estimated the money came out to around ten thousand dollars in assorted bills. Then he found the plastic box at the bottom of the bag. He pulled it out carefully. As he opened the heavy clasps he noticed the box had a rubber seal around it making it waterproof. He opened it to find dozens of stoppered test tubes each held upright in an individual slot in a foam insert. It looked like half the vials were empty, though all had a green residue.

He pulled one tube out and frowned at the dark green fluid. Opening the test tube cautiously, he smelled the cap noting that the fluid had a sharp, not entirely unpleasant, odor. He had the sense that he'd smelled it before, but couldn't place it. He debated, and decided that he was not crazy enough to taste the fluid. Instead, he sealed the test tube back up and pocketed it. The empty slot was a dead give away, but he was willing to risk Krycek's anger.

He closed up the plastic box and replaced it in the duffel then carelessly threw the clothes back into the bag. He went into the outer room and saw Spectre at the computer. She'd been reliable so far. He decided to let her stay and hold down the fort while he got the fluid analyzed. She promised to call him on his cell phone when Krycek showed back up. Something made Mulder take the lap top computer and his discs with him.

xx

Alex had Jaak let him out three blocks from the Rieger building. Jaak had wanted to come with him, but Alex refused. He knew the security of this place. Trespassers were more likely to disappear than to be arrested. Although he knew Jaak would be up to the challenge, this wasn't the man's fight.

The rain had subsided into a heavy fog as Alex moved carefully through a city park toward his destination. Between the late hour and the weather he had the park to himself. Had any one been abroad at that hour, Alex would have appeared as a ghost, looming out of the fog, vapor swirling in his wake as he hurried down the path.

Getting near the outer edge of the park and his destination, Alex slowed and stopped. He stood on a small hillock and looked at the Reiger building and its surrounding fence about three hundred yards away. The sodium vapor lights around the building cast a hellish yellow glow into the fog. Alex stayed in the shadows of the trees, examining the building for any weaknesses in security.

"Give me your wallet."

Alex barely kept from jumping. He cursed silently.

"I've got a gun. I said, give me your fucking wallet."

The voice held a low, less than pleasant, nasal twang. Alex turned slowly to face his attacker, his hands held out from his body. He looked at the teenage street punk silently. Hair a thick greasy blond mass, nose and lip rings, multiple ear rings, both arms covered in tattoos. Dirty, baggy clothes. The thug did indeed have a gun. A revolver. Big, heavy, chrome-plated.

Alex assessed him, then he couldn't help himself, he grinned.

"What's so fucking funny?"

"You're holding me up? You've got to be kidding me. After all I've been through, with all that's still ahead of me?"

He couldn't stop the soft whuff of a controlled laugh.

"You won't think it's so fucking funny when I put a fucking bullet through you, faggot."

"You know, you cuss too much."

Alex's hand flashed out and grabbed the punk's gun, his finger went in the trigger guard behind the trigger. When the punk tried to squeeze it, the trigger wouldn't move. Alex jerked the gun up, taking the teen's arm with it while simultaneously kicking his would be mugger's legs out from under him. He twisted the gun free, hearing tendons in the boy's wrist pop and the trigger finger break through an agonized shriek. He brought the gun down across the other's nose, and then against his collarbone. A third blow broke his jaw. The mugger rolled on the ground, trying to hold his face together. As Alex turned towards him, the fool tried to kick him. Alex seized the kicking leg, placed a foot on the other and heaved upward as if to tear him in half.

Stop!

Alex froze. He released the punk and spun quickly in place, trying to find the speaker. There was no one there. The only sound was the punk on the ground moaning. The voice had been a whisper, as if beside his ear. Alex shook his head, deciding he was tired. Alex moved toward the would be mugger, who was now trying to crawl away.

Please stop. He's no threat now.

Alex started. He spun again, in a tight crouch. He couldn't find anyone. But the whispery voice had been so close... and it was in his own voice.

"Shit!" Alex hissed in a whisper that was mostly subvocal. "All right, you little green parasite. Have you learned to talk now?"

Nothing. He could still sense the alien quiescent inside him, but he received no response.

"All right, listen. I have to do something. It's dangerous. Do not interrupt me again. Understand?"

He still kept his a low whisper. He could sense a resignation inside him.

Yes. I'll be quiet.

Alex Krycek moved toward his destination grimly.This was a complication he really didn't need.

Jaak dropped Alex off in front of the apartment and drove off through the rapidly disappearing fog. The raid had gone better than Alex could have asked for. He had three computer discs of information. He was certain at least one had to do with cloning, and he had the impression it might be related to the alien/human hybrids.

Entering the apartment, he found Spectre at the computer as usual. She glanced up at him quickly, then returned to the program she was working on. She was frowning at the screen in concentration.

"Where's Mulder?"

"He went to the office. He said he wouldn't be long. I'm supposed to call when you get in." She kept her attention on the screen.

"Don't bother. I'll call him."

He walked over beside her. "What are you working on?"

"I've been trying to get a little deeper into some of the companies listed on those files. I've run across some pretty heavy protection programs, but it paid off." She smiled brightly. "I found what you've been looking for. A file that tells all about cloning and the shape—shifters."

"You located it on-line? Wasn't it encrypted?"

"Well, duh! Of course, but it was so simple, I had no trouble decoding it. It was right there in the research files from Amerdyne labs."

"This type of file isn't kept on any on-line computer. These men don't make the same mistake twice. Why do you think I have to go after the files in person?"

"I thought you just didn't know how to find them on line."

He glared at her. "How long ago did you find that file?"

"About an hour ago. Don't worry, Alex. I didn't leave a trail. I'm telling you, I got in and out slick."

"Log off, now."

"What? Why?"

"Log off, it was a setup, they're on their way."

"Oh, come on..."

"Log off, now!"

Grumbling, Spectre shut down the program she was working on.

"Download everything in the computer except that last file, put it all on tape, we're leaving."

"Alex, don't you think you're carrying this paranoia a little far?"

He stood next to her, "Just do it."

His tone was intimidating and commanding, a tone that no thinking person would disobey. Spectre stared, then started making the copies. Alex ran upstairs toward his bedroom. He couldn't get by without the fluid in his duffel bag upstairs. Not yet, anyway. He snatched up the bag, leaving everything else, and hurried back downstairs. Spectre was grumbling at the computer as he came into the room. Alex sat his bag by the door.

"I'll work on this, get your things."

"Oh, come on, Alex! We're leaving? There's no way they traced me. I'm a ghost in the computer. Besides, what about Mulder?"

"I'll call him. Get your things or don't, but we're leaving."

She gave up her chair and hurried upstairs, certain that he would leave her if she dawdled. Alex began stuffing computer discs and hard-copies into his duffel bag as she grabbed her few possessions. Spectre came down the stairs as he shut down the computer.

"Are you just going to leave it? You know how much that machine costs. Isn't it a little much to leave it just because someone might have detected me?"

He looked over his shoulder at her. "You have a car close?"

"Yeah, in the parking lot."

She pulled keys from her pocket. He reached down and pulled the cables from the back of the computer.

"Here." He shoved the computer case into her arms and took the keys from her hand. He threw the strap of her bag over his shoulder and took the handle of his in his left hand.

Glass shattered as the room's windows were blown in violently. Alex and Spectre instinctively hit the floor. Intense detonations filled the apartment, threatening to burst their eardrums. Almost passing out, Alex shoved his hands to his ears and then his eyes, desperate to shield them, because the concussions were accompanied by blinding flashes that seared past his eyeballs into his brain. Moaning reflexively, unable to stop his nervous system's automatic response to such intense pain, he rolled on the floor, powerless against the flash-bang grenades that were intended to disable without permanently harming. Krycek knew what they were, but knowledge was no defense against primal panic. He couldn't even hear the door being kicked open.

Before he could overcome his pain and reacquire his presence of mind, a foot kicked him, shoving him onto his back. His gun was ripped from its holster. Deaf and blind, he was grabbed and yanked to his feet. He was shoved out a door, fell on a sidewalk, and was dragged to his feet. Suddenly weightless, he was carried a short distance, then had the sensation of flying. He landed on a hard metal floor and vaguely realized that he must be in a vehicle. A van, he thought, dazed.

The metal floor tilted as men climbed in. A body was tossed onto his, landing with a pained exhalation. Spectre, he decided. Disoriented, he felt Spectre move off him and hands pawing over his body, rolling him over, pressing, probing.

His traumatized vision had begun to correct itself. His ears rang painfully. He could vaguely see four men in dark police assault gear in the back of the van with him. Although the ringing was still painful, his eardrums felt less compromised. He could feel the alien's disorientation and fear. The roiling, breathless effects of adrenaline suddenly seized him.

Lurching to his feet, he made a sudden dash for the door. One armored man was still pulling the door closed fully. Alex hit him like a linebacker. The man outweighed him by over fifty pounds but Alex moved him through the door as if he wasn't there. The two men hit the street at speed from the accelerating vehicle. Alex tucked and rolled as they walloped to a dizzying, sickening stop. He could just hear the van's brakes.

Staggering to his feet, he started to run. He hadn't gotten far when he was tackled from behind. Twisting, Krycek brought a stiff hand up into the other man's throat. Gasping, the man released him.

Before Krycek could get his feet under him again, another man ran up to him. The man pointed something at him and an excruciating pain lanced through Alex's chest. It felt as if a red hot poker struck him. Pain seemed to explode, sending searing lightning bolts from his back to the rest of his body. He tried to scream but his throat muscles had contracted, his chest locked tight, not allowing any breath.

He sank to his knees blindly, the inner voice screaming for him to get up, run. Endorphins were suddenly pumped into his system, erasing the pain. He got his feet under him just to be hit from behind. He fell onto his face. Powerful hands grabbed him, picking him up and he felt weightless again as he was carried. He was tossed into the back of the van hard enough to slam against the far wall. Slumping to the floor, his abused senses tried to readjust.

He fought to catch his breath as hands pulled his arms behind his back. Thin, tough wire was wrapped around his wrists painfully. Someone pressed something hard against his stomach, and everything went dark as electricity raced through him, his overtaxed nervous system finally surrendering.

xx

Mulder pulled up to the apartment with a sense of dread. Police cars were parked at the curb. Irritated officers were trying to calm the agitated neighbors. Mulder hurried forward, showing his badge to the officers when they would have stopped him.

Talking to the officer in charge, Mulder got the story. Apparently federal officers had made a raid without telling anyone. They had taken in two dangerous fugitives using flash-bang devices and a SWAT team. No effort had been made to move neighbors first, or to get the police department's cooperation, which was not sitting well with the officers. And, no, they did not know where the fugitives had been taken.

Mulder was grateful that they had taken the apartment under assumed names with nothing to identify them correctly, thanks to the Lone Gunmen. He managed to get into the apartment past the loitering officers. He found the computer missing, yanked from its cables. All the discs and papers were also gone.

Checking the bedrooms, he discovered someone had taken Krycek and Spectre's duffel bags, leaving only the clothing on the hangers. Mulder's suitcase was also gone. All the police could tell him about the two fugitives was that it was a man and a woman, and that both were taken alive. In fact, one neighbor reported that the man had made it from the van momentarily, but that he had been apprehended with a taser. Nothing else was forth coming.

Mulder stalked toward his car. He opened the car door and stopped as a large man hurried up to him. The man came up beside him breathlessly. "Agent Mulder?"

Mulder looked him over cautiously. "Yes."

"My name is Jaak Danko. I am a friend of Alex. I think I know where he has been taken. And the lady."

Mulder's face sharpened. "How would you know that?"

"I was with Alex earlier. He left something in the car and I returned to give it back to him. I saw the men put him and the lady into the van. I followed it. Alex said I could trust you. I will show you the location if you will let me."

Mulder nodded. "Get in."

Danko shook his head. "No. I think we will need two cars. When you see, you will understand. Will you follow me?"

Mulder debated, then nodded.

xx

Spectre was almost paralyzed with fear. Her vision and hearing were just beginning to clear from the effects of the flash-bang devices. The armored men in the van did not speak to her. They had just shoved her into one corner of the van and ignored her.

Alex wasn't that lucky. Every time Alex would move or make any sound they hit him again with a taser. She thought they did it out of sheer maliciousness. He wasn't making any move to escape or threaten, all he had to do was open his eyes to be attacked again. There was no need for it. Despite his near successful escape attempt, it was obvious Alex wasn't a threat now.

One of the armored men turned to the leader. "You sure that wire is strong enough? This guy's supposed to have some kind of enhanced strength, like with drugs or something."

"It doesn't matter how hyped his muscles are. It's piano wire. In fact, the stronger he is, the more effective the wire. He tries to break the wire and he'll cut his own hands off. Better than steel handcuffs every time."

Alex's facial muscles involuntarily twitched and he let out a moan. He tightened, knowing what was coming, he was right. He heard an obscene buzzing noise at the same instant an excruciating pain lanced his chest. Immediately it spread through his body, making him spasm.

"Stop it!" The leader turned to her for the first time.

"You got a problem?"

She had her legs pulled up tightly, her arms wrapped around her knees. She tried to keep her voice calm.

"Just, stop it. There's no need to hurt him like that. He's not doing anything."

"You will sit there and keep your mouth shut, or I'll shut it for you."

Spectre swallowed heavily, and pulled herself into a smaller ball. The armored man grunted in approval, then ignored her again.

Alex Krycek stayed silent, not daring to move, or even breathe too deeply. He lay quietly on the entirely inadequate mat they had thrown him onto. The smell of gas came up through holes in the floorboards causing him to be nauseated and dizzy. The alien was struggling with the pain from the tasers, but they came so often, and were so general, it was overwhelmed. His body had had enough. His vision darkened and the pain faded as he lost consciousness.

Spectre held her hand over her mouth, biting her knuckles. She had never been so scared in her life. She didn't know who these men were, but she was certain they weren't legitimate police. Finally, the van stopped. The armored men opened the door and one unceremoniously snatched her from the floor. The others picked Alex up.

They were hustled across a short grass yard into a squat, ugly gray cement building. They moved through sterile gray halls past several doors. The men put Alex down on a dirty piece of carpet on the floor in a small room. With a firm grip on her arm, Spectre's guard led her down the hall. The man escorting her refused to talk to Spectre. He kept an iron grip on her arm and forced her down the hall roughly, jerking her when she almost stumbled. He opened a door and she was shoved unceremoniously inside.

Spectre straightened to face the man behind the dull gray metal desk. The middle aged man exhaled a cloud of smoke at her. The smile he gave her was not encouraging.

Spectre screwed up her courage to speak. "Who are you? What do you want with us?"

"I believe you have it wrong," the soft voice made her think of a snake's hiss. "I will be the one asking questions."

"I ...I want to see a lawyer."

"You are under a false assumption. We aren't the police."

The guard came forward and shoved her forcefully into the chair facing the desk. The smoker leaned back, exhaling another breath of smoke casually.

"Let's begin with what connection you have to Alex Krycek."

Spectre hunched down, making herself smaller. Somehow she knew lying to this man would be a bad mistake. After seeing how they treated Alex, she had no desire to make these men angry. She took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around her torso as she steeled herself to answer questions.

xx

Fox Mulder crouched in the tall grass with Jaak Danko. He scanned the compound with his binoculars critically. Two hundred yards from the main building a tall electrified fence kept trespassers away. The binoculars picked up a sign on the fence. The sign was written in several languages, all proclaiming: "Danger: 50,000 volts. Immediate death on contact."

Mulder whistled softly. "That's one hell of a toaster." Fifty thousand volts could light up a small village-or reduce a man to dust in a matter of seconds.

"Da. I mean, yes. They take their security very seriously."

Mulder looked him over silently. "How did you say you knew Krycek?"

Jaak sighed. "I met him when he was an agent in Philadelphia. We became friends. He helped me out of a mess I got myself into."

Mulder seemed to accept this. His mouth tightened in frustration as he scanned the area. He'd called Scully and told her what he was doing, but it would take her over an hour to get there.

Jaak touched his shoulder lightly, causing Mulder to turn back to him. "I think I have idea. It could be dangerous though."

"Gee, that'll be a unique experience. What have you got?"

"I will drive my car through the fence, shorting it out and attracting the guards. There aren't more than six of them. You slip through and get Alex out."

"Nothing like living on the edge to get the blood flowing." Mulder said dryly. "One problem. You hit that fence and your car will melt. Not a good place to be."

"I know how to get around it. That's why I made you stop and let me go into that sporting store. I needed more than just a rifle."

Mulder had wondered when he saw the large bag Jaak had put in the car. "What's your plan?"

"I have a full rubber wet suit in the car. I think it will protect me. When I hit that fence the metal shell of the car will create something called a Faraday cage. Most of the electricity will run around the car and down into the tires. I'm hoping that the rubber in the suit protects me from whatever's left."

Mulder's eyes opened incredulously. "You're hoping?"

Jaak shrugged. "I'm wearing a wet suit and driving a car into an electric fence. It's not an exact science."

"And people say I get weird ideas. Danko, this is suicide. Even if you survive the fence, those guards will cut you apart."

"Agent Mulder. I was Spetsnaz. That means I was in the Russian equivalent of the Navy SEALs. I am not afraid of danger. I am reasonably sure this can work." He flashed a white toothed grin. "Besides, I don't want to face Bailey if I let anything happen to Alex."

He crawled backwards from the edge of the grass toward their hidden cars. "Come on. I'll need help suiting up."

xx

Alex woke slowly. He kept his eyes shut, trying not to betray his waking to the men with the tasers. Gradually, he became aware that he wasn't moving. He was in a silent, motionless place. He lay on his stomach on a piece of carpet that smelled of unhousebroken dog. He was overjoyed that he was still alive, but he knew he had to be careful.

He listened for anyone around him. Nothing, not even the sound of breathing. Cautiously opening his eyes, he saw he was on the floor of a featureless, gray cement room. The only light was a dim glow from the window in the door.

His back muscles became rigid. He felt pressure behind his ears and a dull roaring. His stomach contracted, making him fear he was going to be sick. He felt the beginnings of panic. His entire body began to quiver, and a new sweat broke out on his back. He tried desperately to remain in control.

"Think, damn it, think. You can't be in the silo. This room is too small. It's square. It's warm and dry for God's sake. Use your mind. Think."

The whispered dialogue seemed to help somewhat. Gradually, the terror receded to sharp-edged fear. He could control fear. This could not be a good situation, but the threatened panic was easing to the edge of his consciousness.

Having his hands tied behind his back made getting into a sitting position difficult. Needle-like bursts of pain shot through his head, causing a dizzy, spinning nausea as he leaned up against the wall.

He had no idea where he was, he wasn't sure he was anxious to find out. There were so many possibilities. Fear coiled in his gut, ready to be let free. But he was strong, he had been in the belly of the whale more times then he cared to admit and he always managed to overcome the rough spots. Rough spot? A category into which the present situation fit nicely Krycek decided.

xx

Mulder and Danko stood beside the car. It took both of them to pull the resistant, clinging full rubber suit over Jaak's muscular body. When they were done, only Jaak's face showed.

"You really think this is going to work?" Mulder knew the answer, but he had to ask.

"Of course, I am absolutely certain." Danko grinned at him. "My trainers taught me that 'self-delusion is a precondition for every act of consequence.'"

Mulder slapped him on the shoulder, and Danko walked to the car. He moved stiffly to the driver's door and climbed behind the wheel. He had used Mulder's phone and called Bailey to have the car reported stolen earlier. When this was done, it wouldn't be worth towing. The car started with a quiet purr.

"Get into position. When I get the fence down, I'll try to hold off the guards. I don't know how long I can stick around, so hurry." He put the car in gear. "And before you ask. Yes, I am crazy."

Mulder hurried up the hill through the trees as Jaak Danko drove off.

xx

Alex scrambled to his feet when the door to his room opened. One of the men from the van stepped forward holding an odd looking gun.

"Do you know what this is?" the guard held out the weapon slightly.

Alex cocked his head. "Compensation for an inadequate prick?"

For a moment, the man's self-control slipped, revealing blind fury.

He took a breath and regained his composure. "Laugh it up smart-ass. This is an advanced taser. You think the other ones hurt? They were nothing to the pain this one will inflict. More than enough to put you down for a long time. Try something, it would be my pleasure to demonstrate it on you."

Alex glared at him, then nodded in acquiescence. The guard with the gun stepped back and let the other man grab hold of Krycek's arm.

The man that held onto him had a military buzz haircut and a huge lantern jaw. His shoulders were stretching the seams of his off the rack suit dangerously.

Wordlessly, he was led down the hallway with his guide keeping a tight grip on his elbow. He was led past several doors and when he saw the room they were heading for he started to resist. He was jerked by the back of his shirt and a fist the size of a mango came from somewhere and slammed into his head. Alex was dropped onto the floor. The guard leaned into Alex's face. It caused Alex to pull back to get away from the reek of beer and cabbage on the man's breath. The man jerked Alex closer by the hair, leaning in towards his face.

A deep, grinding sound emanated from that foul mouth. "Fucker, you killed my friend in Sarcus."

Alex gagged. "Are you sure it was me, might have been your breath."

The blow that came was harder than he had expected. It almost knocked him out, semi-blinded him, and the taste of blood surged into his mouth. He decided to lie there awhile, at least until the room stopped spinning, but it wasn't to be. He could feel the alien starting to express annoyance deep inside him.

His tormentor reared back to strike again, but a voice stopped him. "Mr. Raimondi, I want him intact, in here."

Snarling, the big man pulled Krycek to his feet and into the room. Alex again planted his feet, his every instinct telling him to run. Raimondi tightened his grip on him, and the other guard stood in the doorway, taser ready.

Alex's eyes raced around the pristine white room. The room was full of medical machines and equipment. The surgical table in the center kept drawing his eyes back to it. The fear that he had under a tenuous control started resurging.

"Mr. Krycek." The voice caught his attention, drawing his eyes to the man standing beside the table in a white lab coat. Tall, thin, with a sharp hatchet of a face, and thinning brown hair. The man was watching him intensely. The voice was baritone, heavily accented though geographically indistinct. Calm, assured, menacing, resonant with the dulcet tones that hint of a higher education.

"I am Doctor Samuels, Mr. Krycek. I have heard some intriguing things about you from Mr. Resovic. I believe we need to test the truth of these claims."

Alex turned to the man standing just behind the doctor. Alex took in a monstrous face, large-pored, pasty skin, jowls darkened with a heavy beard, oily black hair drooping over a high forehead and small, myopic eyes.

The eyes said much before the words came. "I have been searching for you for some time Tavarishch Krycek. You are not only hard to capture, you are hard to find at all."

A mocking smile broke across Alex's lips before he said with feigned calm. "I do my best." He tested the integrity of a tooth with his tongue as he looked at Resovic sharply. "Does Arcady Arntzen know you are working with these men?"

"Major Arntzen is a fool. The man thinks that Russia is still a threat to America. He is loyal to a Russia that no longer exists. As far as he knows, we were unable to find you after you defected so spectacularly."

Krycek's gaze turned hard, like glinting metal. "The only foolish thing Arcady Arntzen ever did was have you as an aide, Resovic."

"Loyalty, Krycek? Didn't know you had it in you," Resovic sneered. "Even though he turned his back on you? Let them have you?"

Krycek's green eyes lasered in on him at the scored point. It had hurt, thinking that his patron had turned on him like that. He had thought Arntzen was a man he would be happy to work with for a long time.

"I would be very careful with him Dr. Samuels," Resovic warned the older man, "Krycek here left a lab very much like this one. He left behind a fire that decimated the wing of the building and four dead researchers. We found one scientist in the vacuum chamber we use to eliminate some of the more dangerous research animals."

"Vacuum chamber?" Samuels frowned.

The two technicians hovering around the edge of the room in their surgical scrubs looked up nervously.

"Yes. Big, square, airtight cage; they put the animal in and pump out all the air. Works better than chemicals on a lot of the subjects. Apparently, Krycek decided it was appropriate for this doctor."

Krycek smirked. "Yeah, it was. Have anything like that around here, doctor?" His penetrating green gaze burned into Samuels. "Any particular favorite-when I come for you, that is?"

The guard was quick, Krycek doubled over in pain as a huge fist slammed into his gut. He hadn't been hit that hard since Skinner sucker punched him. He gasped in breath painfully.

"That's enough."

The new voice made them all freeze. Alex felt dread settle in his stomach. He knew that voice. He was jerked around by Raimondi. Standing beside the door across the room stood the smoker, his ever present cigarette in hand.

He gave Krycek a gentle, insincere smile. "Well, Alex, you can't seem to stay out of trouble."

Alex Krycek swallowed heavily. This was much worse than he had thought.

The smoker turned to the white coated man. "How long do you think it will take, Doctor Samuels?"

"I should be able to give you preliminary results in six hours. It will take days for more exact testing."

A deep puff of smoke. "Give me a report in six hours then. I will be back later to check on your progress." He turned and left through the door without giving Krycek another look. Resovic followed closely behind him.

Krycek suddenly found himself being picked up and slammed onto the surgical table on his side. He started to kick and fight, the piano wire cutting to his bone. Both guards laid down on top of him to hold him in place. Krycek screamed in fury as a needle was inserted into the side of his neck.

xx

Mulder crouched in the cover of the trees and watched as the jeep raced toward the fence. The jeep bounced over the rough terrain hardly slowing down. It hit the fence square on and there was an enormous flash of brilliant white light that rose into the sky in a fountain. The windshield of the jeep buckled and caught fire before shattering into a million pieces.

Jaak kept his foot on the accelerator as he put his rubber coated arms over his face. The car was filled with a searing heat. As the heat dissipated, Jaak uncovered his eyes and grabbed the steering wheel with his gloved hands. He fought for control as the jeep skidded to an abrupt stop.

Sparks continued to fly where the jeep had punched a ten foot wide hole in the fence. As Mulder's eyes cleared he charged through the gap, being careful to not touch anything. He could hear shouts from the building.

The windows of the jeep were all melted, a thin veil of smoke rose from the inside of the car. The front hood was bent almost in half and flames from it were sending sparks swirling up toward the stars. The back half of the car was partially melted, thick smoke starting to curl from inside.

Mulder paused long enough to see Jaak stumble from the wreck, apparently intact. Jaak waved him off as he reached back inside the vehicle and retrieved his rifle and hand gun.

Mulder loped toward the building. He moved around the side, away from the guards that were converging on the burning jeep. Mulder had a brief glimpse of Jaak moving from the vehicle behind a small shed. Gun fire erupted from and to the area.

Mulder hurried into the building. He moved past a men's room, a woman's room and an employee lounge. He inspected and left three labs, all holding nothing more dangerous than a few panicked animals. Tension plucked at his nerves, walked with tiny electric feet up his spine. A click of boot heels on the floor. Someone approaching.

Mulder faded back around a corner, his pistol up and ready. The steps reached the end of his corridor and the guard started in his direction. Mulder coiled his finger around the trigger. The guard moved past him, hurrying, anxious about the activity outside. Mulder moved up behind him.

He thrust the barrel of his pistol behind the man's ear and whispered, "Don't move."

The man froze in place.

"How many inside?" Mulder hissed quietly.

"Fuck you."

Mulder grabbed the man's gun and shoved it into his own belt. He shoved the man to the door of the nearest lab.

"Open it. Get inside."

He kept his voice quiet, his gun shoved tight against the man's head. The guard complied. Mulder guided him over to a table and made him kneel beside it. He quickly cuffed the man to the table's leg.

"Where do they have Krycek and the woman?"

"Fuck off."

Mulder glared for a moment. Then put his pistol away in his holster. He looked around the room then went to the far wall. He picked up a glass bottle. Nodding in satisfaction, he moved back to the table the guard knelt next to. Carefully, he opened the bottle of clear liquid. A strong chemical smell hit the two men. Mulder cautiously tipped the bottle slightly so a few drops hit the table just in front of the other man. A dull hissing erupted and the metal of the table began to bubble.

The guard's eyes widened in fear.

Mulder leaned toward the guard. "Fluoric acid. It eats through metal in seconds." He gave a grim, humorless smile. "Guess what it does to flesh."

The guard choked. "You wouldn't..."

"You know that fight going on outside? My friends are in danger. Don't try me."

"Okay! What do you want?"

"How many inside?"

"Two of us, plus a couple of medical people."

"Where are Krycek and the woman?"

"Lab five. He's in lab five."

"Where's the woman?"

"Down the hall. Second door on the left."

Mulder closed the bottle back up and returned it to the shelf. He found a clean rag and gagged the terrified guard, then went back into the hall.

Spectre was in the second room, as promised. Mulder found her huddled in a corner, her knees pulled up with her arms around them.

She looked up in fear as the door opened, then ran to Mulder with a glad cry. "Oh, God, you're here! You won't believe what these people are doing!"

Mulder held her off with one hand carefully. "Where's Krycek?"

She looked at him, tears in her eyes. "They said... they said they wanted to see if the stuff in the Russian files is true. About the alien and healing and stuff."

Mulder's throat tightened, thinking of the labs he'd passed, and the experiments listed in those files. He held out the gun he took from the guard.

Spectre refused it, shaking her head. "No, I don't do guns. I would be worse than useless with it."

"Okay," Mulder nodded, replaced the gun. "I'm going to find Krycek, I want you to find a hiding place near that exit." He pointed in the direction he had come from. "We'll get you on the way out."

Spectre shook her head. "No way! I'm going with you."

"It's too dangerous. You go down there and hide. I don't need the distraction of watching over you. Krycek may be hurt."

He was clearly angry, but fear made Spectre reckless. "Then... you will need me more, to watch your back." She hooked her fingers around his belt, gripping it like a lifeline. "Lead on, I'm coming with you."

Mulder tried to shake her off, but she hung on like barnacles to a boat's hull. "Look, I'm not going to grapple with you while I'm holding a loaded gun." His voice low and fierce.

"Good. Now let's go find Alex together."

Spectre gazed up at him, still holding fast to his belt. Her eyes were wide and she bit her bottom lip.

Mulder gave up and headed down the hallway, Spectre turning her head frequently to check behind them. They found the door to Lab Five without any difficulty. Listening at the door, Mulder heard a scream of agony. He pushed Spectre from him urgently. This time she obliged and stood back to one side.

Mulder shouldered his way through the door, weapon ready. He found what looked like a surgical suite with three people standing beside a table all dressed in light decontamination suits. One man was just setting a bloody instrument on a metal stand beside the table.

Mulder could hear a man's ragged breathing and weak curses directed at the suited medical personnel. He heard a deep baritone talking as if to a tape recorder. "All surgical cuts performed have healed themselves almost instantly. Even with surgical cautery, the subject..."

The man turned as one of his assistants caught sight of Mulder.

Mulder kept his gun aimed at them. "FBI, move away from the man on the table."

The suited personnel moved back, their hands raised slightly.

Mulder now had a clear view of Krycek on the table. They had stripped him and he was in five point restraints. The restraints looked to be leather reinforced by steel. Krycek was breathing harshly, covered in sweat. An ugly wound on his abdomen was rapidly closing itself with very little blood loss. Mulder wouldn't let himself meet the tortured green eyes.

"Release him," he snapped to the nearest man. When the man hesitated, looking at the larger center man, Mulder lost his temper. "Do it now!"

The leader nodded. The tech moved forward to release the straps, leaving the arm restraints till last. As Krycek's arms came free the man jumped back nervously.

"Back against the wall, over there," Mulder indicated with his head, keeping the gun leveled.

The medical people complied. Krycek slowly sat up on the table. The wound on his abdomen was almost completely closed now, the edges still red and painful looking. Krycek ripped the IV line out of his arm. Mulder wouldn't give the people in the corner five minutes to live if Krycek had a gun, judging from the fierce expression on his face.

"Can you walk, Krycek?"

The erstwhile "subject" nodded. "I'll make it." The husky whisper held a wealth of threat in it.

Krycek slid off the table and caught himself with his hands on the edge as his legs tried to buckle. Mulder saw the researchers watching Krycek intensely, the leader covetously.

Mulder noticed the door to an isolation chamber to one side. He motioned the medical people toward the room. "Come on, get in there. Your people will let you out later."

Keeping in mind what Resovic told them about Krycek and vacuum chambers, the three men were inclined to argue. Mulder almost had to shove them into the room forcibly.

As Mulder took care of the medical personnel, Spectre had hurried over to help Alex. They searched and found a set of scrubs for Alex to wear to replace the clothing that had been cut off him. As he dressed, he directed Spectre to retrieve his leather jacket and the wallet from the pocket of his ruined jeans.

Mulder went to the door to check the hallway. He could no longer hear the sounds of gunfire from outside. Mulder turned back and saw Krycek eyeing the controls to the isolation room.

"Don't, Krycek."

Hard green eyes turned back to him angrily. "After what they did to me? They deserve it, Mulder."

"Probably. But don't."

Their eyes locked fiercely. Finally, Krycek raised his hands in surrender and stepped back from the controls. The two men moved into the hallway carefully, Mulder leading the way. He handed Krycek the gun he'd taken from the guard earlier. Spectre clutched the remains of Alex's leather jacket, wondering why he had asked her to bring it along.

As they hurried outside, they could still hear sporadic gun fire from the other side of the building. Mulder heaved a deep sigh of relief.

Krycek looked confused. "Who's fighting?"

"Your friend the Spetsnaz is showing them how good Russian training is."

A smile spread across Krycek's face. "Oh, yeah. He's damn good too."

The two men ran toward the hole in the fence, crouched and trying to run a breaking pattern. Spectre stayed right behind Krycek. They had almost made it when Mulder went down with a soft cry, landing beside the now smoldering jeep. Krycek dove to the ground as bullets tore up the turf by them. Panicked, Spectre ran behind the ruined vehicle and hid. Alex crawled over to the injured agent. He could see the blood spreading across Mulder's shirt from the hole in his chest. Mulder wheezed as he fought for breath.

"No!!" The anguished cry caused the rain of bullets to increase.

Krycek threw himself over the downed man without thinking. There was the sharper bark of a big rifle, and the gun fire stopped. Alex sat up beside his ex-partner. He gently ran his hand over Mulder's face.

"Oh, no." He watched as a shudder ran through the beautiful body before him. "No!" A growl this time.

Directing his thoughts inward, he rested his hands on the other man, trying to stop the frothy blood coming from Mulder's chest.

"All right you alien free loader. I know your kind can heal. You owe me. Heal him."

I can't

"What do you mean you can't? You've been healing me all along."

I am inside. I can't help him.

"Bull shit! I know your kind can. I've seen the reports!"

I'm not complete. I don't have my own body. I have to work through yours.

"Then work through me!"

You will have to let me have control. Now I have to struggle, even with you. I must have control.

Krycek froze. Give this thing control? He'd never get it back. It would win. He'd die.

No. Just let me be dominant for a time. I will give control back. We will work together.

"I don't trust you."

Mulder's body shook again as he coughed, pink froth coming to his lips.

He's dying.

Krycek took a deep breath, turned his face up to the skies for a moment, taking in the beauty of the sunset. Then he locked his gaze on Mulder, deciding that there were worse things to have as your last sight.

"All right." He whispered. "Do it."

Everything suddenly went blurry for him. It felt as if his entire body had fallen asleep at once. He could still see Mulder on the ground in front of him, but it was as if he saw him through a video camera. It seemed at a distance and had a slightly unreal feel to it. He could still hear, but it too seemed muffled, he had to strain to make the sounds out.

The alien looked down at the dying agent. He ripped Mulder's shirt open quickly. Turning toward the twisted wreck of the jeep, he ran his right palm against a protruding sharp metal edge. Blood flowed freely from the new wound. He shoved the palm against the wound on Mulder's chest.

The retrovirus from his blood raced into the other body, along with part of the alien's essence to control it. Within seconds the alien had control of all the dormant viruses lurking in the agent's body and then control over the body's cellular responses.

Jaak Danko stalked around the side of the building. He had made sure the area was clear of unfriendlies. Now he moved toward where his friend knelt beside Fox Mulder.

"Alex? We have to go. There could be reinforcements."

The kneeling man ignored him. He had his hand desperately pressed to the wound in the other's chest as if he could stop the bleeding by sheer will power.

Jaak sighed and raised his voice as he approached. "Alex? We have to get him out of here."

The alien gathered the life forces in Mulder and Krycek's bodies and forced his will over the damaged body in front of him. A flattened bullet was pushed from the body into Krycek's hand where it lay on the wound. He quickly palmed it and discarded it, then put his hand back over the wound.

The pieces of the rib the bullet had shattered were broken down and absorbed by Mulder's body. The rib was completely healed as was the punctured lung beneath it. Mulder could feel his breathing ease. The pain was a faint shadow of what it had been. His whole body felt swathed in cotton.

His blurry vision showed his ex-partner leaning over him. Krycek's eyes were closed, his face tight with concentration. He could feel Krycek's hands resting on his chest. One was almost inside his chest, just over the wound.

Krycek was swaying slightly, sweat dripping from his forehead onto Mulder's bare chest. From Mulder's position, the brightly colored sunset was back lighting Krycek, giving him an otherworldly image. He could feel a sense of well being radiating out through the spot on his chest where Krycek's hands rested. It was soothing, relaxing, rather like being held by your parent as a small child.

A shadow came over the two, causing Mulder to take a sharp intake of air. His sense of peace was shattered. Something was coming up on the oblivious Krycek. He reached a hand up to Krycek's shoulder.

"Alex..." All he could manage was a whisper.

Jaak Danko stood beside the two men. He took in the scene grimly at first, thinking Alex was lost in mourning. He was amazed to see Mulder's hazel eyes staring up at him lucidly. The agent seemed tired, his chest was coated in blood, but there was no wound. The chest rose and fell smoothly, evenly.

Jaak shook his head. He gripped Krycek by the shoulder. "Alex, we have to go my friend."

The alien gave final orders to all the viruses within Mulder. From now on Mulder would be immune to this alien's particular viruses. The alien pulled his awareness back. The wound on Krycek's hand began healing closed.

Krycek finally opened his eyes again. He swayed and nearly fell. The alien had used not only Mulder's, but Krycek's energy to work its miracle and the body was feeling the strain. Jaak caught him by the shoulder and held him up.

The Russian looked down at Mulder, slinging the rifle over his shoulder by the strap. "Can you walk Agent Mulder?"

Mulder did an internal check and decided that he could. He struggled up to his feet. Jaak grabbed hold of him quickly before the unsteady man fell again. He supported Mulder while the agent leaned down and retrieved his weapon.

Krycek got to his feet, leaning heavily on the big man's support.

Spectre came timidly from behind the jeep. She approached and put her shoulder under Mulder's free arm silently. Mulder looked over at her, then let her take some of his weight. Seeing she stood solid, Jaak released Mulder to her.

Jaak got a firmer grip on Krycek. Staggering, the four made their way to Mulder's waiting car. Jaak finally got them ensconced in a decent motel far from the lab they had raided. They had only stopped once, just long enough for Mulder and Spectre to help Jaak peel out of the smothering wet suit. Getting the big Russian out of the hot rubber was a lot like skinning him alive. He yelped as the rubber pulled the hairs out of his legs as the other two yanked them down. Now Jaak wore a loose shirt and jeans.

Jaak got the last two rooms available, luckily, they were toward the back. The last thing he needed was for people to talk about the three men staggering into a motel room together, one of them needing to be practically carried and the other wobbling like he was drunk.

At least Mulder did get in the room under his own power. Alex required more support. Spectre, of course, got the other room to herself.

Mulder shuffled into the bathroom. Jaak got Alex to sit on the edge of one bed while with a flick of his wrist Jaak turned the cover back on the other. With a second flick, the blanket and top sheet joined it. He left the pajama like scrubs on him. Alex moved like a sleep walker as Jaak got him into the bed and tucked the sheet snugly over the exhausted man. He grinned faintly as Alex sighed deeply, turned on his side and snuggled down deeper into the bed.

Jaak went and knocked on the door to the bath room. "Agent Mulder. I'm going to see if I can purchase some clothes and food. I may be awhile."

He waited till he heard Mulder's agreement then went back out to the car to see if he could find an appropriate store.

Mulder decided to take advantage of the free toiletries the place offered to shower. He stared at his image in the mirror. The smooth flesh of his chest was flawless, unmarked, although it was bloody and dirty. He could just see the imprint of Krycek's hand in the blood. The remains of his shirt were also soaked in blood.

He remembered the pain of the bullet. Yet, there was none now, just a feeling of tiredness. He showered, amazed as he watched the blood go down the drain. Krycek had healed him. Just like Jeremiah Smith could. It had worn Krycek out- unlike Smith, it didn't seem to come easily to him, but still...

Mulder looked at his filthy clothes with distaste. Danko said he was going to get them new clothes. Mulder could wait. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked from the steamy shower back into the main room. Krycek was in one of the beds, the covers turned back, a sheet covering him, sound asleep. Mulder looked over at the only other bed in the room. He looked in vain for a couch or a chair to sleep in. Jaak Danko would be coming back to sleep here tonight. He looked back over at the sleeping Krycek. Sighing, he went over and climbed into the bed, staying on top of the sheet and pulling the bedspread over him. He scooted to the edge of the bed, putting as much distance as he could between himself and Krycek.

A sudden thought made him lean over to check on Krycek. The man might have slipped into another coma. Lord knew he'd had enough strain put on him today.

A drop of water fell from his hair onto the smooth cheek. Krycek shifted slightly, turning his face away. Mulder smiled in relief. He was only deeply asleep, exhausted.

Mulder moved back to his own side of the bed and grabbed the TV clicker. Not surprisingly, the motel had porno channels. Mulder paused on one a moment, then a shifting weight in the bed beside him caught his attention. He hastily changed the channel.

He turned to look at Krycek. His head lay to one side of the pillow, hair strikingly dark and lustrous against the creamy whiteness of his face and neck. Fiery ribbons of heat burned through Mulder as he stared at the sleeping man. Mulder felt himself drawn toward the soft smoothness of the young man's throat. He was quite a hormonal experience just to look at.

He looked absurdly young like this. A faint smile curving the expressive mouth. The elegant features relaxed in sleep. The soft lips were slightly open, letting a flash of very white teeth show through. He could see the eyes moving back and forth behind his eyelids as he dreamed. The lush, mink like lashes resting on the pale cheeks. Dreaming, his fists alternately clenched and relaxed beneath the sheets.

Krycek shifted in his sleep, unconsciously moving closer to the warmth of Mulder's body. Mulder pulled the other side of the bedspread over Krycek too. A huge yawn overtook him. He felt nearly stuporous with exhaustion.

Within minutes of leaning back on the pillows, he was fast asleep.

Krycek woke first, with Mulder tucked against him, the other man's backside nestled snugly against his lower belly where he'd spooned in behind. Alex's body responded instantly, hardening and thickening, eager to take what the feel of Mulder's body promised. He felt a swift, hot thrust of desire so intense it left him reeling.

Alex's mouth closed on the graceful curve of Mulder's neck, gently kissing and licking at the delicate skin. His hand roamed over the glistening smooth skin of Mulder's chest, his belly, his thighs. Drifting close to his rosy, rigid cock, then shying away. Alex's hands explored Mulder's body, feeling curious and intrigued as he learned the varying textures of smooth skin, silky chest hair, wiry pubic hair. Firm muscles. Pulsing strength and heat.

Mulder drifted toward consciousness gradually. He lay snug, with a warm and silent presence at his back. It was strange, after all these years, to wake up with someone else beside him in bed. It was comforting, and comfortable.

Sighing, he pushed himself closer, loving the feel of the firm flesh behind him. The gentle hands stroking him as if he were fragile and precious. Then he recognized the feel of a hard shaft pressed between his cheeks.

"You keep on rubbing against me like that... no telling what could happen." A silky soft voice jarred Mulder fully awake.

Alex had risen partway, resting on one arm having pulled the sheet off. He continued to trace an erotic little pattern on Mulder's thigh with the fingers of his left hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mulder's growl didn't come out quite as forcefully as he could have wished.

"Minding my own business," Krycek yawned expansively. "Until that sweet bottom of yours started twitching."

Mulder shoved back with a sharp elbow, catching Krycek in the ribs. Krycek exhaled in a soft huff, and Mulder tried to squirm away from him. Mulder suddenly found himself caught in a steel hard grip. He was grabbed and forced onto his back too quickly to respond.

Krycek twisted and settled down on top of him. Mulder tried to fight him, but Krycek had pinned his arms underneath him and the weight of Krycek's body held him flat on the bed. Krycek kept one hand on Mulder's chest, firmly holding him in place.

"God dammit, Krycek!" This time he had no trouble getting the anger into his voice.

He struggled, but he couldn't dislodge Krycek. Krycek looked down on him, his face puzzled. His fingers traced the curve of Mulder's lower lip, fascinated with the delicate lines. Then his face lowered to lightly trace the path of his fingers with his own lips.

He kissed Mulder in a whisper, barely touching him at first, then very slowly, very carefully deepening the touch. Krycek's lips were as soft as magnolia petals and he had a tangy, musky masculine smell that caused a stir in a secret place deep inside Mulder.

He felt his insides begin to liquefy into honeyed desire as Krycek moved over him. Mulder tried to twist away in protest, but Alex's lips closed more firmly over his, and the angry words went unheeded in the cavern of his mouth. In desperation, Mulder bit the gently intruding tongue. Krycek jerked back. He tasted his own blood and looked at Mulder in frustration.

"It's a damn good thing I made you immune to my blood when I healed you, Mulder. That was really dumb." His tone was petulant, higher than usual.

"Get off me, Krycek!"

Instead, he buried his face against the side of Mulder's neck. "Why do you fight me, Mulder?" Krycek moaned against Mulder's neck, where his lips sampled the silken warmth of Mulder's skin as the agent rolled his head to the side. "Why do you always want to hurt me?"

"You son of a bitch! By what right..." Mulder growled, struggling against him.

"I want you." Krycek's breath fanned the hollow of his throat, moving downward. "I need to experience you. That's my right..."

Mulder struggled harder, panting, struggling to free a hand but quickly learning the strength in the wiry body above him. "I don't... want... you..."

"No?" Krycek looked confused, pulling his face up and away from the struggling man. "I'm doing something wrong? Let me try this again."

Krycek kissed him, but this kiss was different. It was gentle and persuasive, seeking to please Mulder. If he'd been hard and forceful, Mulder might have been able to maintain his will to resist. This heady sweetness though was something else. He kissed him as gently as a breath. Twisting his head, Mulder managed to pull his mouth free.

"Stop-" He mustered a breathless plea.

Krycek pulled back, his eyes smoldering.

"I have a right... to a choice," Mulder panted, struggling again to free his hands. "I'm not ready for this."

"You're ready..." Krycek leaned harder down onto him, trapping Mulder's hard sex between them firmly.

"That's not... what I meant.."

But Mulder forgot what he meant when the tongue ran down the side of his neck, nibbling at the jumping pulse point there. He shivered in mindless delight. Keeping his mouth inaccessible suddenly seemed paramount to Mulder, so he leaned his head forward against Krycek's chest. His arms were still trapped under him, but he stopped straining them.

It was a compromise of sorts. As long as he could keep Krycek from kissing him, he could maintain some modicum of control.

Alex caught Mulder's face between his hands with a sudden vehemence. He had never experienced this kind of all consuming need. Alex's mouth, that wonderfully wicked mouth, made claim to Mulder's in a kiss that demanded he respond. Lips caressed, teeth nipped, tongues repaired the damage only to fuel the hunger. The air was rent with tiny moans from both throats. The attraction, the fascination, the fire was shared; that seemed all that mattered. Finally, the need for air forced Krycek to pull back, both men breathing hard.

"Ah... Alex..."

"How's that?" Alex whispered against his silky skin as he lowered his head to lick at Mulder's pebbled nipples.

When that talented mouth reached the tip of one bronze nub Mulder cried out, but now in the agony of desire as red-hot charges shimmered through him. The sensations were fed by the tongue that rolled the nipple to a peak and the teeth that drew the essence from Mulder.

"Good... oh... God..." he moaned, arching his back to offer more of himself.

Just as he knew he could stand no more, the tongue moved on. Keeping his hands firmly on Mulder's chest, palms resting on the sensitive nipples, Krycek's mouth licked and explored the firm planes of Mulder's belly. As Alex's tongue tip flicked into his navel, Mulder arched convulsively on the bed, almost breaking free.

"No more..." Mulder begged.

Krycek rose over him again, studying his face. "What am I doing wrong? All my information says this is correct."

Mulder looked up at the beautiful face above him, surprised at the hurt tone. As he stared into the deep green eyes, his breath caught in his throat. Krycek's pupils were widely dilated, but instead of an inky black depth to the pupils, Mulder saw a swirling green fog inside the openings. The alien! The alien was in control!

"You have to stop!" Mulder bucked under him fiercely, almost dislodging him.

The alien moved back only far enough to see his face, framing it gently in his hands. "Why?" he rasped. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Too good!" It was no time for false pride. "That's the trouble."

"No trouble. If my touch pleases you, how can that be trouble?"

Just as Mulder gathered the strength to answer, the door to the motel room came open. Both men turned in surprise to see Jaak Danko standing in the open doorway, his arms full of bags. His clothes were wet, the rains having returned unnoticed by the two men.

Mulder felt the deep flush of embarrassment in his face. He turned toward Krycek and saw his eyes snapping between him and the man at the door, Krycek's face dark and intense. And now Mulder was acutely aware of the alien intellect lurking behind those green eyes.

xx

Part Three

cking828@aol.com

29 Dec 1997
cking828@aol.com
Rating: R Classification: XA M/K slash Spoilers: Takes place after Terma. Keywords: Krycek, aliens. Summary: Krycek enlists Mulder's help in dealing with an alien. Disclaimer at the end.
Feedback welcome. I'm new at this and can't learn if I don't know what I do right or wrong. I apologize for any problems with formatting, my word processor and I have been fighting. I think we've come to a stalemate. :-}
Disclaimer: Mulder, Krycek, and Scully belong to Chris Carter and Company. I'm just borrowing them , I can't help it, Krycek fascinates me. The aliens all belong to Carter and I have no idea what his grand scheme is for them. Call it creative license on my part. Absolutely no money to be made from this. No harm is meant to Mr. Carter or anyone else. I have not copied any one to my knowledge and any similarity to anyone else's work is accidental.
I would really like to dedicate this to Katy Deery. She has gone way above and beyond any reasonable bounds to help. She has been a great Beta reader and hand holder. I would also like to thank Liza McGrath for her words of wisdom and support into the wee hours of the morning and with a time limit. Any flaws are purely the result of me sneaking things in behind my beta's backs or blatantly ignoring sound advice. These two lovely ladies have tried to keep me on the good path. They are both such fantastic writers in their own right. I just hope to follow them. Some day maybe I'll get to their level of excellence.

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