TITLE:  Axe 2: Walking The Razor's Edge M/K

AUTHOR: Tarlan DATE: 7th April 2000

E-MAIL ADDRESS: TarlanX@aol.com

DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: RatB - Yes. Gossamer - yes. Archive/X - Yes. WWOMB - Yes.
Spooky site - Yes. Basement - Yes. Annex - Yes. Elsewhere please ask.

WEB SITE: <http://chaelyndra.com/nicklea/fiction> or on my page at RATB
<http://www.squidge.org/terma/tarlan/tarlan.htm>

SPOILER WARNING: Anything up to and including aspects of Biogenesis.

RATING: NC-17

CONTENT WARNING: m/m sex and some swearing. If this isn't your scene then don't
bother reading on - you know where the DELETE key is. You have been warned. By
the way, in my universe Mulder is not colour-blind in the slightest... I believe
he made that up! Also, this story diverges from the series after FTF so should be
considered AU from that point forward.

CLASSIFICATION: X SERIES: Sequel to 'Waiting For The Axe To Fall'.

COMMENTS: Thanks, as always, to Aqualegia for all the encouragement, advice and
beta reading... and for being such a good friend. Thanks also to Sue (aka Dr
Ruthless) who stepped into the breach and provided additional beta comments.
Also, thank you to Ayanna K, Erika and Rowanne who kindly offered to help. I may
call upon you next time <g> Any and all comments gratefully received - as long as
they're constructive.

PLEASE FEED ME!! Even a 'YEP, I READ IT' is gratefully received! Proves I didn't
release the story into a vacuum! Note: Flames will be circulated around and
posted to several lists so we can *all* have a good laugh at your expense... I
mean, why should I have all the fun!

SUMMARY: CSM's obsession leads Alex into mortal danger.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The final m/m scene was greatly inspired by the beautiful artwork
of The Theban Band - 'Bath' in particular. Thank you Ned and Leny. You will find
their wonderful artwork on 'The Red and the Black' site (RatB). See url above.

DEDICATION: To Karen-Leigh... and Tiptoe the RAT (no matter what Ty says!) Thank
you for giving me the incentive to finish writing this sequel. I do hope you
think it was worth the wait and the effort!

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Axe 2: Walking The Razor's Edge by Tarlan

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

There is so much a man can tell you So much he can say You remain my Power, my
Pleasure, my Pain To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny Won't
you tell me is that healthy, baby. "Kiss from a Rose" by Seal

********************

22:30 hours New York

The lights in the underground parking lot barely kept the shadows at bay but, at
this time of night, there was little reason to want light. Even the most
conscientious had long since left for their homes after a long day's work in the
City. This left the lot deserted except for one dark-coloured sedan. It was
parked in the middle of the row, opposite the bank of elevators which led from
the building above. The headlights were off and the engine silent except for an
occasional tick as warm metal gradually cooled. At first sight the car seemed
empty but the small red-light that flared sporadically attested to the presence
of at least one occupant.

The Cigarette-Smoking Man sat in the back seat and waited patiently, eyes
focussed on the elevator doors ahead. He lit another cigarette, his ever present
trademark and took a deep drag, filling his lungs with the carcinogenic yet, for
him, life enhancing nicotine and tar. He stifled the urge to cough although that
became more difficult with each passing week. Already he spent far too many
precious minutes hacking up his lungs in the mornings as he fumbled for that
first exquisite drag of the day.

Someone once told him he ought to quit - for the sake of his health - but he had
been a young man then and had not expected to live as long as he had. An
occupational hazard. His cruel, seamed mouth lifted sardonically in one corner.
He'd expected a bullet, a knife, something... anything... and had not been
disappointed except that he had survived; survived to fall victim to the
invisible killer that was eating his lungs: Cancer. Even the alien's could do
little for him despite their incredible powers.

An expression of regret crossed his face. He should have heeded that warning but
before he could sink deeper into those dark, self-pitying thoughts the elevator
door opened casting a dim light across the lot that almost reached the silent
car. A tall, thin figure approached cautiously, the man's head swivelling first
one way then the other as he checked out the lot for any sign of impending
danger. Once certain, he reached down and pulled open the car door. The Smoker
glanced sideways as a man in his mid forties flopped into the seat next to him,
light reflecting off the gold lucky charm hanging from a bracelet around his
thin, hairy wrist. He took another drag from the half-smoked cigarette, flicking
an imaginary piece of ash from the sleeve of his expensive suit while he waited
for the man to settle but his patience quickly wore thin when the man remained
silent beside him.

"Well?"

Dark eyes, gleaming in the dim interior, turned towards him and the Smoker could
easily read the barely restrained insanity firing within their depths. The reedy
voice seemed shrill and discordant, jarring the fuzzy atmosphere formed by the
soft glow of lights from the parking lot and from the comforting silence that had
descended during the short wait. A smile of animal pleasure was pasted to the
pock-marked face; an inner glee bubbling through the seemingly mundane words he
uttered.

"We located the laboratory."

"And?"

"He'd been there."

The Cigarette-Smoking Man leant forward and savagely ground out the remainder of
the Morley in the metal base of the ashtray. 'Been there' meant he was there no
longer. The gleeful smile dropped from the thin, weasel face and the man flicked
lank, greasy hair back from his forehead nervously as he registered the barely
concealed frustration and anger in the other. This was not the news his employer
wanted to hear. He continued a little more subdued.

"We interrogated a few of the remaining technicians. I think you'll be pleased to
know that he is both alive... and whole."

His employer looked up sharply, staring straight ahead through the windscreen
into the semi-darkness beyond. He reached inside his suit jacket and removed the
pack of Morley's, shook a fresh stick from the packet and placed it between his
seamed lips. Light flared within the car illuminating the Smoker, casting deep
shadows across his ageing flesh. A smile curved upwards with the first drag which
could easily be mistaken for the hedonistic pleasure of a nicotine hit. A single
thought churned around his mind.

//Alive and... whole.// "Excellent news. Have you a location?"

The man hesitated before deciding that his Boss would not be interested in the
pile of rubble that had been the secret laboratory of the recently deceased
Englishman. He wanted the location of a certain ex-Consortium Agent.

"No. No-one knew what happened to him after he was removed from the tank."

He laughed in uncertainty, the sort of giggling cackle that would not have been
out of place within an asylum, wondering if he should tell his Employer what they
*had* said and deciding it couldn't hurt and might even bring back a little
levity into that dour expression.

"They said 'Aliens took him'... whatever that's supposed to mean."

Silence descended. The Smoking Man smiled and gently stubbed out the cigarette
that had quickly burned down to the filter, aided by the long drags he had made
as he listened to his employee. He knew exactly what that meant and he knew *who*
they meant; The Rebel Aliens.

The weasel-faced man slipped back into his memory of the frightened laboratory
assistant and the pretty way she had begged as he sliced her flesh with a
scalpel. His smile grew as he relived the sight of those bright ribbons of red
flowing down her creamy skin, soaking into the dainty little bra and panties
before a flick of his wrist sliced them from her plump body. Oh, he had such fun
with her. Her soft, frightened whimpers still thrilled him....

"Is Agent Mulder still under surveillance?"

The man frowned, dragged out of his wonderful dream world back to the darkened
parking lot. Puzzlement showed plainly on his face as he struggled to understand
the significance behind the sudden change of topic.

"The First Elder withdrew surveillance several weeks ago. Without the Englishman
he's no longer considered the threat that..."

"Renew the surveillance."

The older man turned his head away and after a few minutes of silence the man
realised their meeting was over. He opened the door and started to clamber out
before a gravely voice arrested the motion.

"Good work, Mr Roberts."

The pock-marked man smiled at the unaccustomed praise, continued out of the car,
shutting the door gently but firmly behind him before walking off into the
deepening shadows. Moments later another shadow detached itself from behind a
nearby pillar and swiftly moved into the Driver's seat. The Driver looked up into
the rear-view mirror and caught sight of the feral smile that almost reached his
employer's rheumy blue eyes. He dropped his gaze before the internal shudder
manifested itself physically and busied himself with gunning the engine. The
sedan started smoothly, purring like a big, well-fed cat and the car pulled away
slowly, heading towards the exit. He offered no words in conversation, knowing
this man was too dangerous to engage even in small talk, awaiting instructions
instead.

The Cigarette-Smoking Man let his head fall back against the seat and closed his
eyes. Visions danced behind his eyelids... past, present and, with careful
planning, future. A young man with dark, mahogany hair and beautiful green eyes,
alive and whole, lying naked beneath him; impaled by him, crying out softly with
each powerful thrust of his hips, sinking into that sweet, firm flesh, kneading
those perfect white asscheeks.

A single word escaped from him on a quiet sigh of deep longing and intense
pleasure.

"Alex."

When the Rebel aliens had attacked BioTechnics he thought he had lost his Alex
forever. He, himself, had barely escaped with his life, eternally grateful for
the sense of self-preservation that had kept his driver and car close at hand.
They had pulled over not far from the entrance, just in time to see Dana Scully
supporting her partner out of the burning building and forcing him into their
car. Of Alex there had been no sign... and no attempt by either agent to return
for him. Fire engines had descended upon the scene, and he had waited the three
hours it took to douse the flames, watching for signs of any bodies being removed
from the burnt-out remains of the laboratory. But the paramedics had gone away
empty-handed leaving the Smoker with only two possibilities floating through his
head, either Alex was dead, incinerated beyond all recognition of being human...
or the Rebels had taken him.

Over two months had passed but now he had the answer.

"Alive and whole."

This was so much more than he ever expected. Seeing the physical perfection
destroyed had angered him greatly as he remembered the way those agile fingers
would caress his skin, bringing him to such exquisite heights of passion and
pain. He had vowed to take revenge on the Russian peasants who had mutilated his
'lover' but gained no satisfaction when he discovered the task had already been
performed by another. Comrade Arntzen had decided the presence of these one-armed
rebellious peasants was a security risk. He had set up a ten mile exclusion zone
killing everyone within its perimeter that could not be used for the tests.

The Smoker's thoughts travelled back to the younger man. He remembered the way
that pretty mouth with its deep cupid's bow would smile just before the lips
stretched wide to take inside his considerable erection; remembered the way the
forest-green eyes used to dance as he watched the control slip from his 'master'.
His expression hardened as he recalled the later years when those eyes would stay
closed; the sucking hard and ferocious as Alex tried to bring him off as quickly
as possible; the surreptitious wiping of swollen lips with the back of his hand
when kissed. He had lost his Alex somewhere along the way but that didn't mean
Alex had to stay lost. He grimaced as he took another drag from the ever present
cigarette. If Alex would not come back to him willingly then he would take him...
and there were plenty of drugs on the black market that would ensure he forgot
all about Fox William Mulder.

The Smoker opened his eyes and raised his head to stare straight forward through
the windshield. Thoughts of Alexei Krycek's delicious body had sent tingling
sensations thrumming through his ageing body and, with a feral grin, he
remembered the photo that had been handed to him earlier. He pulled a manila
folder from the door pocket, removed the photo and studied the face. It was
closer than some; the eyes were green although not the right shade; the hair dark
but without the hints of red. Not his Alex but... A plume of blue-tinged smoke
drifted from the back seat. He raised his voice, his soft yet gravely tone
seeming to float across with the smoke.

"Have you made the necessary arrangements?"

The Driver turned his head slightly to acknowledge his employer. "Yes, sir."

Another feral smile followed and the Driver grimaced. John Davis did not need
explicit instructions to determine where his employer wanted to go. Exiting the
underground parking lot, he turned the wheel to take the shortest route to the
nearby Interstate. Within minutes the sleek, black car was heading North towards
the small town of Barter's Grove where a young man waited in a seedy motel for a
patron who had promised twice the usual fee for his services.

********************

Three Days Later 
2630 Hegal Place 
Apartment 42 Alexandria

Mulder paused on the threshold to the bedroom and gazed in pure, unadulterated
pleasure at the beautiful sight laid out before him on the bed. Alex was lying on
his stomach, half-raised on his elbows with a book in his hands. Mulder couldn't
prevent his eyes from travelling along the length of that perfect, naked body.
The broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist; honeyed skin paling to white
as his eyes fixed onto the exposed ass, with its soft round contours, then down
the long, firm legs covered in a light spattering of dark hair, eventually
resting on the soles of the high-arched feet. His eyes drifted back to his
favourite spot... those pale globes of firm, muscular flesh. His hands itched to
reach out and cup each one, pulling them apart to reveal the tightly puckered
muscle that was the gateway to his own private heaven on Earth. Gradually he
became aware of being watched and looked up to find a pair of teasing green eyes
glancing over his lover's shoulder.

Mulder couldn't stop the blush creeping up his face from reaching the tips of his
ears but Alex merely chuckled, a deep, sexy sound, pleased at the reaction his
body caused in his lover. Mulder cleared his throat.

"I spoke to Skinner today."

A slight dip of the head and rise of the eyebrows was the only response. A
beaming smile lit Mulder's often pensive features. Alex Krycek abandoned his book
and turned over, reaching for his lover's hand. He didn't really need to hear the
outcome of that talk. He already knew what Mulder intended to do that day. They
had talked about it long into the night. Obviously, from Mulder's expression, his
own positive stance on what would happen had borne out. Skinner had not accepted
Mulder's resignation but *had* accepted Mulder's lover, albeit reluctantly.

Mulder was mesmerised momentarily by the sight of his lover's semi-rigid shaft
arching gracefully across his thigh. He swallowed audibly, pulled out of his
frozen state by the heat flaring in those forest-green eyes. He reached the bed
in two strides and pulled Alex into a strong embrace, nuzzling the dark hair
before whispering into one slightly pointed ear.

"It's not all good news. We're on probation... both of us... and Skinner didn't
mention anything about taking you back into the Bureau."

"That's not up to him." Krycek pulled back and gazed into the large hazel eyes,
seeing his own reflection in the dilated pupil. "Anyway, it makes more sense for
me to remain on the outside as I expect the Rebels will want something in return
for their investment."

Alex flexed his left arm, a perfect match to the other, as a reminder to Fox
Mulder of what he had regained through his involvement with the Resistance. Even
now, Alex could barely believe what he saw when he gazed down, terrified this was
all a dream, that the tingling of nerve endings was just more of the phantom pain
that had plagued him since losing the limb. His attention focused onto his left
hand, fascination and awe vying for supremacy as he wiggled the fingers. He
looked up when the hand was captured and brought to soft lips, watching as each
finger in turn was taken into that luscious mouth and sucked. He licked suddenly
dry lips as energy danced from those stimulated finger tips through the length of
his arm and down into the pit of his stomach where it radiated outwards to set
his whole being aflame with desire.

Mulder frowned, releasing the fingers from his mouth but still clasping the hand.

"That reminds me. Scully says the bloodwork results are due back from the lab
today. She said she'd collect them and drop by on her way home..."

His words were halted when Alex, tiring of conversation, pulled Mulder down onto
the bed, tugging him on top of his naked body. Strong hands ranged along Mulder's
flanks then around his back as his mouth was drawn to the firm, willing lips
below him. A tongue, soft as velvet lapped against his full bottom lip sending a
frisson of delight through sensitive nerve endings and his mouth opened in
offering to the teasing, probing insistence. Moments later he found himself
crushed against the other's mouth as his own tongue battled furiously with the
invader, sucking, licking, pushing the other back and following its retreat into
another taste of heaven... the taste of Alex. The battle ended abruptly as Alex
submitted to his lover and Mulder flaunted his victory with strong strokes across
the palate, along the smooth ridge of teeth and into the softness of inner cheek
exploring the now familiar territory with the thoroughness of a perfectionist.

He felt a tug on his jacket and slowly they began a familiar dance as bodies
writhed and flexed until every article of clothing had slipped from Mulder's body
to lie pooled on the floor beside the bed. Alex smiled into the almost bruising
kiss that had remained unbroken throughout their dance. He raised both hands to
grasp either side of Mulder's face and gently pushed his lover away.

Fox Mulder stared down into eyes darkened in desire, his tongue teasing along his
own kiss-swollen lips, unconsciously mirroring the man beneath him. Coherent
thought returned and with it came the wonder of this moment. What had he done to
deserve this? What Gods had he so pleased that they saw fit to reward him with
this beautiful, sensuous creature?

Alex frowned slightly as Mulder's expression darkened in fear. He was acutely
aware of his lover's mood swings... the optimistic highs followed so closely by
the lows of near paranoia. One corner of his mouth rose. Mulder was a regular
roller-coaster of emotions, one moment impassioned by his quest for the truth,
the next despondent by the weight of past failures. He didn't need to be a
mind-reader to know what thoughts were racing through his lover's brain. He had
seen the selfless awe and wonder as he gazed down at his one-time enemy but
new-found love and knew the darkness was the flip-side... the fear of losing what
he had found. Alex Krycek took the one course of action that was guaranteed to
drive those thoughts away. He pulled the face back down to his own and possessed
the delectable mouth, hands flowing back through the thick chestnut hair, gliding
down the nape of Mulder's neck to slide across the strong shoulders, then down
further, until he was caressing the bulging biceps that supported the weight of
Mulder's body above him. In response, Mulder moaned softly into the demanding
mouth and felt his elbows give way until he was supported by his forearms either
side of the broad shoulders, his chest resting against the almost hairless skin
of his lover's torso. Long legs parted beneath him and Mulder felt his own slip
between them until he could feel the silken steel of his lover's erection sliding
against his own.

He moaned anew as Alex rocked his hips gently from side to side producing an
exquisite friction as his swollen shaft rubbed against the soft yet muscular
belly, trapped by his own weight. He lost himself in the sensation for several
minutes and then, before he could fall over the edge, pulled back until he was
kneeling between the wantonly spread thighs. As wonderful as this felt, Mulder
knew he wanted something far tighter, far more intimate. His gold flecked eyes
widened as a small tube was dangled before him and his smile grew into a stunning
grin as he allowed Alex to squeeze the cool gel onto his fingers. A single
thought broke through the haze of lust as he wondered how Alex could so easily
understand what he needed.

He gently prepared his lover, watching the green eyes glaze over as his fingers
plunged into the hot channel, stroking and rubbing the soft interior until he
felt the tight muscles relax. He pulled away once more and sat back on his heels,
waiting until Alex opened his eyes, needing to see the consent written across
that expressive face before he continued. His memory of abusing Alex, still too
close to the surface. Mulder smiled as the hungry eyes devoured his own,
kiss-softened lips quivering with expectation, then positioned himself at the
prepared entrance and thrust firmly but gently forward.

A sharp intake of breath was the only sound, the fluttering descent of those long
dark lashes, concealing the bright eyes, the only movement. Mulder held still and
waited until the curtain of lashes raised before pushing forward once more. Once
he was fully sheathed he paused again... this time to savour the tightness around
his swollen flesh and the warmth of the firm asscheeks against his thighs and
balls. Below him, Alex writhed, small pants of pleasure and need drifting up to
caress his ears and ignite his body. Too soon the need to seek completion pulled
him almost fully out of the delicious body before he plunged back into the
restrictive heat, his mind soaring as guttural moans of welcome possession
increased audibly.

Mulder pushed himself back up until his elbows locked and gazed down between
their bodies, his own excitement increasing as he watched his shaft drive deep
into the willing body. A hand snaked between them, grabbing Mulder's attention
and he became mesmerised by the fingers that wrapped around his lover's tumescent
flesh, gliding up and down the thick shaft until...

Mulder felt the beginning of his lover's orgasm as internal muscles clenched
tightly around him. He forced his eyes to remain open as Alex cried out softly,
watching the spurts of white semen splatter across the muscular abdomen and chest
before giving in to his own impending destruction and rebirth as he pumped
once... twice... three times into the beautiful sweat-sheened body.

He collapsed on top of his lover and revelled in the strong arms that enfolded
him. They remained that way for a few moments until it became obvious that his
weight was too uncomfortable for Alex to support. Mulder slipped to one side and
pulled Alex against him, covering the still gasping mouth with a slow,
affectionate kiss. He pulled back and grinned at the satiated expression on the
angelic face knowing his own mirrored that of his lover's.

"You're good for me."

Alex smiled then laid his head upon Mulder's shoulder and, with no more words
passing between them, they drifted into a deep, restful sleep.

********************

East 46th Street New York City

CBG Spender stubbed out one cigarette and, moments later, with the flick of his
thumb he lit another. He glanced around the conference table seemingly oblivious
to the baleful glares his actions evoked. The First Elder grimaced. He abhorred
the habit *and* the man but could not deny Spender's usefulness to the Project.

"I am told you have renewed surveillance on Agent Mulder."

"Yes. I have reason to believe he will be contacted by the rebel aliens."

"I see."

"If you wish me to remove..."

The First Elder's mouth tightened as the honeyed words flowed smoothly from
Spender's almost sneering mouth; the faked subservience grating on already
over-strung nerves.

"No... but I wish to be kept informed."

"Of course. Is that all?"

It was easy to see that there was no love lost between the two men but then,
Spender seemed to hold most of the powerful men present in barely held contempt,
his condescending attitude doing little to hide his disdain.

"Strughold has confirmed his requirements. You will arrange for more...
merchandise to be shipped. I expect you to take a personal interest in the latest
batch of acquisitions."

Spender nodded his head, lips pursed with a small show of distaste. He was
reluctant to leave the States knowing that Alex might be in hiding nearby. As to
reporting the results of any surveillance on Fox Mulder... well, he would ensure
a highly edited version reached the First Elder should his theory pan out. He did
not want anyone to interfere with his plans to regain Alexei Krycek. Spender
half-listened as the First Elder continued, the other half of his attention
caught in planning what he would do if he *should* locate Alex.

"In the meantime, to eliminate any possibility of Mr Mulder interfering with our
work I suggest you make arrangements for him and his partner to be permanently
reassigned away from the X-Files... and more amenable agents put in place."

"I have already set the wheels in motion."

"Excellent."

********************

2630 Hegal Place Apartment 42 Alexandria

A knock on the door brought both men out of a light sleep. Mulder glanced
blearily at the beside clock, his blue-gold eyes widening in shock.

"Jesus, Alex! Look at the time!"

He leapt out of bed, throwing sweats and a T-shirt at the recumbent man even as
he struggled into his own sweats.

"What the..." was all Mulder heard as Alex found himself muffled by the sweat
pants that landed on his face.

"Scully!"

"Oh shit!"

Alex clambered out from under the well mussed sheet, hair in disarray and started
pulling on the clothes. Beyond the bedroom door they heard the sound of the
apartment door opening as Scully let herself in.

"Mulder?"

Her soft, inquiring voice filtered along the short corridor. Krycek ran a hand
quickly through his short hair and turned to inspect his lover. He smiled at the
strands of hair that had taken a life of their own, reaching out as if trying to
escape from his head. Dunking his fingers in the glass of water by the bed, he
ran his fingers through Mulder's hair, taming the errant locks. A quick peck on
the cheek was his thanks as Mulder hurried out of the bedroom to meet Scully in
the lounge.

She smiled as she noticed his flushed face and flustered manner.

//I know what you've been doing...// the sing-song words floated into her head as
they had when she was a child taunting her elder siblings. Her smile raised a
notch when he ran his hand through the thick chestnut hair, undoing all of Alex's
work. Moments later Krycek entered the lounge looking equally dishevelled... and
bearing a mischievous grin.

"Before you say it... No, I hadn't forgotten you were coming over. I just forgot
the time."

"Got a little bit distracted, hmmm?"

The twinkle in her crystal blue eyes was at total odds with the seriousness of
her expression but she couldn't hold the 'severe' face for more than a few
seconds. Mulder blushed in embarrassment as her pretty mouth broke into an impish
grin. She turned her gaze, automatically, to take in Alex Krycek. Much of the bad
blood between them had faded away during those days in Florida. Still, she had
not completely resolved all her feelings towards him but had made the effort for
Mulder's sake. Seeing him now looking so young, innocent and carefree made her
smile. This was the Alexei Krycek that she *wanted* to know, not the duplicitous
rat that had entered their lives all those years ago. She had come to care for
*this* Alex Krycek.

The mood was broken as Mulder collapsed into his favourite spot on the old
leather couch.

"Coffee?"

Scully looked back at Krycek, almost off-hand in her reply.

"Yeah, sure."

She sank onto the easy chair opposite, engaging Mulder in small-talk until Alex
reappeared carrying three mugs. Once he settled himself on the couch next to her
partner she reached down and drew a folder from her briefcase. It was the report
from the laboratory.

"It's bad news, I'm afraid. The sample must have been contaminated as the blood
showed elements that couldn't possibly be present under normal circumstances."

"What sort of elements?"

"Oh, a higher percentage of copper than would be deemed safe in a human blood
sample... and strange aberrations of the DNA strands. I thought I could take
another sample, send it through the labs again."

"No."

Both Mulder and Scully looked to Alex in surprise, not understanding why he would
suddenly refuse to undergo the tests.

"I don't think it's necessary." He glanced from one to the other. "I mean... look
at me! I'm fine... just got one more hand than I had a few months ago."

Scully raised an eyebrow, her partner was more vocal in his opinion.

"Alex, that sample could be exactly what we need to *prove* there is
extra-terrestrial life not only 'out there' but walking around among us. *You*
might be the irrefutable proof the sceptics have demanded..."

Dana Scully watched as Alex averted his face from his lover's bright eyes,
seeming afraid of the obsessive light gleaming from them. She watched his lips
thin, realising how close Alex was to saying something he might later regret. She
interrupted Mulder before the explosion occurred.

"Mulder? Were the samples taken for Alex's benefit... or for yours?"

Mulder halted midstream, a stunned and wounded look crossing his face as he began
to deny putting his own search for the truth ahead of his lover's well-being. The
words tailed off as realisation came. Parading Alex Krycek around as a
human/alien hybrid might bolster his own ego, proving to the world that he *was*
right, that there *was* intelligent life out there but the effects on Alex would
be devastating and might even cost Alex his life.

"You're right. Perhaps it's for the best."

He glanced up and produced a small smile for the man seated by his side then
reached over and pulled Alex into his arms, hugging him tightly. After a moment's
hesitation, Alex hugged him back.

"Well, if that's everything then I'm off. I have a date with hot bath, a bottle
of tequila and a Hershey bar."

"Life in the fast lane, Scully."

As she walked to the door, trailed by her partner, Scully smiled secretly to
herself. What she hadn't mentioned was the Jackie Collins novel she had treated
herself to... and word on the grapevine was that it was raunchy in all the right
places.

********************

One Week Later 
FBI Headquarters 
Washington DC

Mulder could still not believe the way events had unfolded over the past week.
The day after speaking with Skinner he had found himself back in the AD's office
with Scully and what followed still filled him with both disgust and anger.

Skinner had seemed almost apologetic as he informed them of the decision to
remove them from the X-Files. Apparently, someone in the higher echelons of the
Bureau had decided that, following the Antarctic incident, Mulder was too
obsessed and therefore no longer subjective in his current work. He and Scully
were to be replaced by Special Agents Jeffrey Spender and Diana Fowley.

There were plenty of reasons why the news of his successors jarred. Despite the
fact that he and Diana had originally set up the X-Files together, Mulder was
less than willing to see her take them back. Her decision to take up another
assignment had followed hard on the footsteps of their ill-conceived marriage and
subsequent divorce. He knew that, at the time, she had not been happy with the
decision but it was that or carrying on as if nothing had happened between them;
pretending they had never shared anything more than an obsession with the
paranormal. He had been grateful then... now he was livid. As to Jeffrey
Spender...

The scene with AD Skinner replayed in his mind....

"That's a load of Bull and you know it. They thought they had destroyed my work
when they burnt the files. *You* know and *I* know that Spender is a Consortium
lackey... this is just another excuse to remove me from..."

"Agent Mulder, I am not here to argue with you. You and Agent Scully will report
to AD Kersh for reassignment at 11:00. Dismissed."

"Sir, isn't there..."

Skinner held up a hand as Dana Scully uttered her first words since entering his
office. She closed her mouth and watched as the hand travelled across the strong
face and over the balding head.

"You're good agents.... both of you... and I'm sorry this has happened but I have
no say in this matter. And neither do you. Dismissed."

Mulder had stormed out of the AD's office and, two hours later, he and Scully had
found themselves clearing their desks and moving into AD Kersh's realm.

A week had passed since then and the only work that appeared on their desks
seemed so inconsequential as to be laughable; checking references was the sort of
task reserved for junior agents, fresh out of Quantico. He had reconsidered
resigning but Alex was right. Someone was trying to force him out by demoralising
him. This knowledge merely served to fire him up; his stubborn, obsessive streak
standing him in good stead for once as he decided that, if the X-Files couldn't
come to him then he would go to them.

By day he was the pencil pushing bureaucrat as ordered, seeming to work late into
the evening but, as soon as the last person left he returned to his own agenda,
hacking into the FBI database looking for anomalies... and raiding Spender's
waste basket. It looked as though Spender shredded everything that came across
his desk.

Mulder frowned, aware that the true casualty of his latest plan had been his
lover. Although only a week had passed he could sense the restlessness in the
other. Until his reassignment they had filled the evenings with sex... fantastic
sex... but over this past week he had not returned until the early hours. Mulder
felt the smile that lifted his lips falter. Alex had waited up, choosing to sleep
during the day but the strain was starting to tell as they collapsed together on
the bed with Mulder too tired to raise an eyebrow let alone... He sniffed softly.
Such a turnaround. Two weeks ago Alex had been returned to him, miraculously
alive and whole but filled with a debilitating fatigue. During those first few
days it was Mulder who made most of the effort, teasing and caressing, bringing
Alex to the edge slowly and gently. He smiled in remembrance of those times when
Alex would pass out from the shock waves riding his body.

Since then the man had started to recover and it had not been unusual for Mulder
to return to his apartment to find his lover doing a series of strenuous sit-ups
and press-ups, rebuilding his strength. Over the passed few nights, however, he
had noticed the almost imperceptible twitch of the curtain as he made his way up
the front steps and into the tenement building. Usually, by the time he had
reached the apartment Alex had come away from the window having found some other
task to occupy him but the fact that he took such a risk in the first place was a
sure sign of his increasing restlessness.

Mulder glanced at the clock. It was time to start the last of his night duties.
He crept down to the basement office where he and Scully had so recently spent
most of their time when not on assignment. A quick check showed that no-one was
around and so he snuck in using a spare key he had cut several years ago, in case
of emergency, but had deliberately failed to hand over to Skinner. With deft
movements he emptied the trash can into one plastic bag and emptied another bag
of shredded paper into the trash bin in replacement. He didn't want to make the
Cleaner suspicious. A bang from along the corridor caught his attention. He
waited silently. Looked like the Cleaner was doing his rounds slightly earlier.

Mulder took a quick gaze through the single folder in the desk drawer, memorising
the details, flicked off the desk lamp and left the office. The clatter of the
trash cart proved he had cut it a little too fine but he sighed in relief as he
made the corner just before the Cleaner turned the far one.

Four hours later Mulder had pieced together most of the latest shredded document.
He grimaced. It was a report of strange lights over Barter's Grove. Nothing
special there. The small town was close to a military research station.

Mulder ran a hand through his short brown hair, sending strands spiking in all
directions. It was almost two a.m. Time to leave. He turned off the PC and hauled
on his jacket and coat.

When he finally pulled up outside the apartment he saw the curtain twitch and
grimaced once more. He was being so unfair on Alex but what choice *was* there?
As he moved into the quiet lounge he expected to find Alex curled up on the sofa
reading... or pottering around the kitchen making a sandwich but both rooms were
empty. Eventually he found Alex in the bedroom, standing in the dark, still
gazing almost longingly around the edge of the drawn curtains at the world
beyond. Mulder walked up behind him, wrapping one arm around his broad chest as
the other closed the curtain. He nuzzled the fine dark hairs at the nape of his
lover's neck and whispered a soft 'hi' into one elfin ear.

Pulling his lover away from the window, Mulder placed his finger across the
bow-shaped lips when it looked as though Alex was about to say something. With
deft fingers he stripped both of them and turned to study Alex. Only the barest
glimmer of light bled into the bedroom from the lounge but it was enough to throw
shadows across the well-formed chest, emphasising the strong pectorals, the peak
of an erect nipple and the ripple of muscle across his abdomen. Mulder gazed at
his own reflection in the dressing mirror. Many described it as athletic,
lithe... a runner's body with long thigh muscles and strong calves. Alex... well,
he was built more like a fighter; a boxer. So apt, really, considering their life
styles.

Strange. When he first entered the room he had all the intention of falling into
bed but not for sex, just to sleep. Seeing that lost and forlorn figure sent a
shard of ice ripping into his heart and he could think of only one way to bring
the warmth back.

Alex had remained motionless as if in shock when Mulder lay face down on the bed,
head pillowed on his arms, offering his body. The concern on his face proved he
had seen the fatigue that dulled the chameleon eyes and he was expecting nothing
more than to hold Mulder while he slept. Alex sank down on the bed, trailing one
hand along the soft, exposed skin and then sighed deeply, removing his hand.

"We have to talk."

Mulder mumbled a reply but knew Alex would not be satisfied until he heard
something more intelligible so he turned his head to look up into Alex's pensive
face.

"I know... but not tonight."

They held each other's eyes a moment longer before Alex nodded his assent.

"Okay. Not tonight... but soon." His voice becoming even softer, more husky.
"Cummon, you're tired. Let's just lie here. Sleep."

Mulder reached out and grabbed the hand that drew the bedsheet over his body.

"I *do* love you, Alex. You know that. You mean..."

Alex placed one finger over his trembling lips.

"I know."

Alex finished pulling the sheet over them and then snuggled down, pulling Mulder
into his arms. After a few minutes he heard the sound of Mulder's breathing
change, growing softer and deeper but, for him, sleep was elusive and, many hours
later, he was still staring up at the ceiling watching the light of a new day
creep across the room.

********************

The Next Morning 
FBI Headquarters 
Washington DC

AD Skinner dropped his briefcase onto his desk and sighed. He sniffed the air,
his nose wrinkling up in distaste and he turned on his heel. Holding the 'No
Smoking' sign up like a cross to a vampire, Skinner approached the seated man.

"I won't even bother asking how you got into my locked office uninvited but you
can at least show a little courtesy."

The Smoker merely smiled and took another long drag at the cigarette held
nonchalantly in his hand, blowing the smoke out in one long stream directed
towards the AD's face. With the other hand he flipped a folder to Skinner. The AD
caught it deftly and glanced at the cover. The name 'Barry, Duane' written in
bold type across the title. He recognised it as the report Mulder had written
following Duane Barry's suspicious death. The report in which the Special Agent
had made allegations against Alexei Krycek.

"It appears Mr Mulder has recently rescinded certain allegations made against
his... former partner, Agent Krycek. Any particular reason why he should do so at
this time?"

"How the hell would I know. The man's no longer under my control."

"Oh come now, Mr Skinner. I am not a fool and I did not take you for one either.
Where is Alexei Krycek?"

Skinner kept the small smile that threatened to break across his face from
showing. Despite his own personal dislike of Krycek... for obvious reasons; the
beating he had taken on the hospital stairwell being one of them, the thought of
holding out on CBG Spender was far more pleasurable than what he would gain in
handing over information on Krycek's whereabouts. He turned his deadpan
expression back on the Smoker, his voice low and gruff.

"I have no idea... and even if I did, what makes you think I would tell you?"

"Professional courtesy?"

This time the smile did make it's way onto Skinner's face as he tossed the 'No
Smoking' sign at the Smoker.

"Perhaps if I ever saw some then I might be willing to reciprocate. You found
your way in so I assume you know your way out."

The Smoker rose and moved to the door. He paused on the threshold.

"One day you'll need me..."

"When hell freezes over."

A malicious smile curled the corner of the Smoker's mouth. He nodded his head
once and left leaving Skinner alone with his thoughts, wondering if he should
mention this 'visitation' to Special Agent Mulder. With a shake of his head he
decided it would be better to forget the whole thing. He grimaced as a nasty
taste reached his mouth. The day had barely begun and already he had heartburn.

Skinner popped two tablets into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully as he pulled
the first of many reports open in front of him.

********************

A Few Hours Later 
AD Kersh's Department 
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC

Scully watched her partner from her desk. She knew what he was doing late at
night after everyone else had left but it did not sit well with her on more than
one front.

Firstly, she hated the subterfuge, her sense of duty vying uncomfortably with her
loyalty - and love - for her partner. They both knew what would happen to him if
he was caught and, although he would do his damndest to ensure she was not hit by
the fallout, she knew she would be 'tainted by association'. Normally this would
not bother her. She had made the decision to stick by her partner through thick
and thin and nothing, not even his relationship with Alex Krycek, could alter
that. However, a black mark on her FBI record would close many doors of
opportunity... and for what? Mulder had no proof that Spender and Fowley were
deliberately concealing evidence, just his intuition. In the past that would have
been enough but she wondered how much of this 'intuition' was actually fuelled by
baser emotions; jealousy, bitterness, anger.

Secondly, she was fully aware of the strain this was putting on Mulder. He was
more than just her partner... he was her best friend and she was appalled by the
way he had been treated. She could understand his anger and felt it almost as
keenly. Over the past few years she had devoted a lot of energy to the X-Files,
or rather, she had devoted the energy to Fox Mulder and his strange quests. She
knew her inability to accept much of what was thrust in front of her face was a
constant source of dismay to her partner but, equally, she knew how much he
relied upon her disbelief to keep him grounded. However, working with Fox Mulder
was a double-edged sword. It had provided her with some unique opportunities to
broaden her pathology skills but it had also brought her closer to death on more
than one occasion. Memories of Donald Pfaster and Duane Barry brought on a
shudder of remembered fear before being swiftly pushed back where they belonged.

Now, as she watched him scrub at tired eyes she felt more than just compassion
rise; she felt her own anger and with it, her determination to give him whatever
support he needed be it physical or psychological. With that thought in mind she
rose from her desk.

********************

Mulder rubbed his hands across eyes dulled by fatigue, gulping down black coffee
in the hope of pushing away the tiredness. He grimaced in distaste, suddenly
aware of the amount of time that had passed. The coffee was cold... stone cold.
He must have dozed off reading the latest boring report that had crossed his
desk. He flipped the report shut with a heavy sigh. Eventually he would get used
to the lack of sleep but, until then, he would have to take it easy. He didn't
want Kersh to order him out of the building... and he didn't want to face any
more disapproving looks from his partner.

Another cup of coffee was placed before him, the aroma curling up with the steam.
He inhaled appreciatively and swivelled in his seat. Ignoring the concern in the
bright blue eyes, he smiled his appreciation.

"You must be a mind-reader, Scully."

"And you should be more careful. They've been sniggering at you for the past ten
minutes. Fortunately they can't tell the difference between one of your
'introspections' and a man fast asleep at his desk so they gave you the benefit
of the doubt." Her eyes narrowed in thought and she added softly, "I think."

Mulder smiled wryly, well aware of the way he was viewed by many of the agents
present. He mumbled something under his breath and then found himself smiling at
the knowing look on her pretty face. Despite all they had been through, all their
differences, she still knew him better than anyone else on the planet. The only
exception being Alex.

He sighed. What was he going to do about Alex? He loved him... had been prepared
to give up everything to stay with his lover but they both knew time was running
out for the Human Race so their own personal choices would have to take a back
seat. Mulder realised that the time to talk about the future... their future...
had come. He couldn't expect Alex to wait around in his apartment, like a dutiful
spouse, and Alex would not expect him to give up his cause. Too much was at
stake. Tonight he would leave early and they would do what Alex had asked last
night; they would talk.

Decision made, Mulder turned his attention back to the hot coffee... and his
desk.

His in-tray was filled to the brim with the usual detritus of office paperwork;
forms for car rental, forms for expenses claims, briefing reports, social
reports. The list was endless and most were barely glanced at before being filed
away... in the circular waste basket by the side of his desk. An irritating
squeak heralded the arrival of yet another load of mail and Mulder sighed,
expecting more of the same boring paperwork to be offloaded. Around him the other
agents grimaced in annoyance. They had offered to bring in some grease to oil the
wheels of the cart but, despite the irritation, Mulder preferred to be forewarned
of someone coming up behind him.

When they had been sent back to the Bullpen, they had been forced to accept the
only available desks; desks that nobody else felt comfortable sitting in. He
realised pretty quickly how lucky he had been when the powers that be had given
him the basement office. It might not have been the most glamorous of
locations... and the view sucked but it had afforded him not just privacy but
also peace. Here, the inane chatter and the clatter of fingers on keyboards were
almost enough to drive him insane. Fortunately he did not need to 'think' about
the work he was given. However, sharing an office with umpteen other agents had
another down-side. Although having his back to the rest of the office gave him a
slight sense of privacy, it also meant that he couldn't see anyone approaching...
and there were a few items on his PC and on his desk that he would prefer not to
reveal to the others.

Another small sigh. Agent Sanders would be leaving next week to have a baby and,
as Senior Agent, he had already put in a claim for her desk once vacated. It
moved him a little further away from Scully but, with a little persuasion, he
hoped he might be able to convince Sander's ex-partner to swap desks with her.

The cart stopped by his side and Mulder watched the messenger reach for a stack
of papers, files and envelopes. Mulder eyed the latest additions to his in-tray
with disgust. Hauling them out and placing them in a pile in front of him, he
started separating the post; some were added to the pile on his desk, the rest
dropped the short distance into the trash bin. Automatic pilot was suddenly
disengaged as the removal of a staff memo revealed a small manila envelope.
Mulder's eyes narrowed in curiosity. He picked it up and turned it over in his
hands but, other than his name, there were no other markings or writing to
indicate an origin. With extreme care, he slit open the end and tipped the
contents onto the desk in front of him; a single piece of paper, with a name
written on it, fluttered to the desktop. A quick check revealed nothing left
behind in the envelope. With his curiosity level raised another notch, Mulder
read the name out, loudly enough to attract the attention of the agent seated
nearby.

"You say something?"

"No, just talking out loud."

As he turned back to the single sheet of paper held in his hand, a relieved look
on Markson's face was caught in his peripheral vision. He grimaced, his mouth a
tight line of annoyance. No-one spoke to him unless they had to and all seemed to
dread the occasions when 'Spooky Mulder' deigned to talk to them. His thoughts
drifted back to the two people who did not treat him like some Pariah; Alex and
Scully. A small smile lifted the sensuous lips at the incongruity of his
thoughts... and their names.

Dana was his best friend... and he called her Scully out of affection. Alex was
his lover and the love of his life yet he rarely ever thought of him as Krycek
anymore. He had used that name as a curse for a hated enemy and now only employed
it when he was annoyed or wanted Alex's full attention.

The smile broadened but the sound of feet shuffling behind him brought him back
from those distracting thoughts. He waited but the feet moved passed his desk
towards another and he turned his attention to the name on the piece of paper
held in his hand. With his eidetic memory he knew that it was not a name he had
come across before so he accessed the FBI database using the name in the search
parameters. A minute, that felt like ten, passed before the information began to
feed across the screen; Michael Anacek, age 31, dark hair, green eyes, height
1.8m, weight... Mulder frowned. The description fitted Alex. The rest of the
information detailed Anacek's criminal record; 23 arrests for prostitution
spanning 15 years; possession of narcotics leading to a short jail term. Passing
across this information, Mulder noticed a recent entry; a missing person report
entered the previous week. With some trepidation he clicked on the image button
and was strangely relieved to find a photo of a man who, despite bearing a
striking likeness to his Alex, was obviously not his lover. His fear of finding a
clone abated.

Mulder frowned again, pursing his lips in annoyance. Why would someone send him
this information? If they were hoping to drive a wedge between him and Alex then
they needed to do better than this but... another thought crossed his mind. The
man was a prostitute who had been reported missing well over a week ago; a
prostitute with a resemblance to his lover. What was the connection?

Surreptitiously, he checked around to ensure no-one was paying any attention to
him before pulling up the Missing Persons report. His eyes widened, mouth falling
open as a name jumped from the screen: Barter's Grove. His memory whizzed back to
the shredded paper he had pieced together last night and discarded so casually
afterwards.

"Mulder? What are you doing?"

Mulder looked up from his frantic search of his desk and the wastepaper basket
into Scully's concerned gaze noting the way her eyes flitted from side to side.
He glanced around to see several agents staring at him in morbid fascination,
only then becoming aware of the papers scattered over the floor in his search. He
opened his mouth to say something flippant when he saw *it*, the office light
glinting off the strips of tape used to reconstruct it. All thoughts of the
people around him vanished as he reached for the report.

"Eureka."

Mulder waved the sheet of paper in Scully's direction and then turned to glare at
a few of the spectators. None rose to the challenge, all preferring to back off
and leave 'Spooky' to his own devices; all *except* Dana Scully.

Scully cleared a space on the seemingly ransacked desk top and perched casually
on the edge.

"Care to tell me what this is all about?"

Mulder pointed to the screen. Scully twisted to view the data, unwilling to give
up her self-made *seat*. She skimmed the report on Michael Anacek, her brow
furrowing as she read the description and saw the photo.

"O-Kaayyy. So..." She halted as the repaired sheet was thrust into her tiny
hands. The rising of one well-sculptured eyebrow said 'I know where this came
from' and he had the good sense to looked chagrined but she read on anyway. "So
you think there's some connection?"

"Don't you? Here we have a missing person who just happens to have disappeared
the same night strange lights were seen over the town. This has all the hallmarks
of a classic UFO abduction..."

"Mulder, we're not on the X-Files anymore." She reached down and picked up the
small piece of paper with the name written on it, not recognising the writing.
"What's this?"

"Arrived in my in-tray this morning." Mulder stared deep into the blue eyes.
"Scully, someone sent me this name on purpose. Someone wants me to look into
this... but why? At first I thought it might be someone who knows about my
relationship with Alex; someone who wants to freak me out but the guy has only a
fleeting resemblance..." Mulder sighed. "...Okay, has quite a good resemblance
to..."

"They're so alike they could be brothers."

He paused as Scully's remark went careering through his head. He decided to flow
with the unbidden thought that flashed into his mind... just a hunch but... He
brought up the Missing Persons database and keyed in some relative details that
matched the description of his Alex; male, dark hair, green eyes etc then sat
back as the search engine trundled through the numerous files. He spent the
interminable wait picking up the wads of paper that had been discarded in all
directions during his search... and listening to Scully's fingernails click on
the surface of his desk, until a warble indicated that the search was complete.

Mulder leaned back in surprise at the list of 32 names that was presented to him.
He printed the names and then clicked on each in turn to bring up the details and
photos, with Scully watching over his shoulder. By the time they had worked their
way through all the names Mulder knew his hunch had paid off. Of the 32 names
there were seven men, including Michael Anacek, who bore a remarkable resemblance
to Alexei Krycek. Many were the kind of low-life that nobody really cared about;
prostitutes and drug addicts, the denizens of the red light districts and bars
that filled many of America's cities. Anonymous figures who were only missed by
their Pimps and Dealers for financial reasons and yet no-one seemed to have made
too much of a fuss when they disappeared. Mulder took the 'last seen' details of
these men and plotted them on a map. They were spread across the country from Los
Angeles to Chicago.

His first thought was that these unfortunate men had paid the price for having
such a close resemblance to his own lover. The Consortium had searched high and
low for Alexei Krycek following his theft of the MJ-12 tape. It still amazed him
that Alex had managed to evade their grasp for so long... unless someone had been
protecting him. His thoughts churned on. The latest missing person had
disappeared just over a week ago and if he had been mistaken for Alex Krycek then
it was a fair bet that the 'wrong people' knew Alex was back in the US. Sudden
concern for his lover showed plainly on his face. He printed off a copy of the
Missing Person report for each of the seven.

"I need to take this to Skinner. The latest victim disappeared over a week ago
and if we don't move soon then the trail will have gone cold. Besides, we'll need
to correlate these reports with UFO sightings."

"I'll go through the personal files and see if I can find any other connection...
apart from the obvious one that they all resemble Alex in some way."

Scully smiled at the grateful grin that lit up her partner's face. She watched as
he gathered all the data together and head out of the bullpen towards Skinner's
office with renewed purpose, the adrenaline kick of a new case putting the spring
back into his step.

********************

AD Skinner's Office 
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC

"Sir, Special Agent Mulder would like to see you."

Skinner sighed. He was up to his neck in reports and knew he'd be taking at least
a third of them home with him tonight if he didn't manage to get a few
uninterrupted hours in the office. He rubbed a hand over his bald head. To be
honest, he missed Mulder's bizarre theories and reports. Despite the dubious
content they were a lot more interesting than the normal run-of-the-mill
surveillance reports that crossed his desk and had made life a little more
exciting. That thought startled him. At the time he had suffered a constant
headache trying to follow the convoluted scientific explanations that Dana Scully
had put forward against Mulder's outlandish theories while performing a ritual
danse macabre with the shadowy Morley Man. Yet now, he missed the challenge.
Until today, it had been far too quiet since Mulder had been reassigned to Kersh.
In fact, the number of X-File reports that had crossed his desk since Spender and
Fowley had taken over could be counted on the fingers of one hand... and none of
these had been followed up. He made a mental note to look into this.

"Send him in."

Mulder bounded into the office like a man on a crusade. Skinner knew that look
well and pointed to the seat opposite.

"What is it, Agent Mulder?"

"I have a list of names... all Missing Persons..."

Skinner held up a hand to halt the flow.

"If this is another 'Alien Abduction' theory then I have to remind you that you
are no longer assigned to the X-Files..."

Mulder paused, his teeth, momentarily, worrying his lower lip as he considered
his options before finally deciding to tell the truth.

"Okay, Sir. I *do* believe these men have been 'abducted' by aliens but, if you
let me show you some photos, you might understand why it's important I follow
this up."

Walter Skinner leant back in his chair, hands raised in an expansive gesture. His
eyes narrowed with each photo laid in front of him, his forehead creasing in
realisation. As the last photo was displayed, Skinner looked up into the serious
face opposite. He held up a hand as Mulder opened his mouth.

"You think they're all dead... killed because of their likeness to Krycek."

"Yes, Sir. All the disappearances have taken place over the past 5 years, since
he went on the run with the DAT tape. I know the Consortium is in collusion with
the Aliens. The Consortium may have mistaken these men for Alex."

Skinner grimaced. He really didn't know what to believe. There was no proof that
Aliens existed but he had the utmost respect for Mulder and knew something must
be going on otherwise why waste all the time, money and effort trying to
discredit the man albeit on a small scale. It occurred to him then that
discrediting Mulder on a global scale would have a detrimental effect, pouring
unwanted attention on those very theories they were trying to suppress. He
sighed. No matter what the truth of the matter, he had been ordered to have no
professional contact with Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.

"Missing Persons is not your area of responsibility. Where did you get this
information?"

Mulder glanced up, his hazel eyes holding the dark ones of the AD in defiance.

"The name Michael Anacek was sent to me in an unmarked envelope. I put the rest
of it together by accessing the Missing Persons database." Mulder paused, pursing
his lips in mild agitation. "His disappearance was reported just over a week ago.
I'd like to check it out before the trail goes cold."

Skinner nodded his head. It was these intuitive leaps that made Mulder one of the
FBI's best agents  - if not the most infuriating but now came the hard part.
Mulder and Scully had been reassigned to AD Kersh's Domestic Terrorism department
checking out requests for chemicals that could be used to make explosives.
Missing Persons and Homicide did not come under that remit.

"I appreciate you bringing this to my attention but I'll have to assign people
from this department to investigate. It's the best I can do."

Mulder pushed back the chair as he sprang to his feet. He leant forward on
Skinner's desk; the aggressiveness of his stance was not lost on the AD.

"With all due respect... *sir*, that's not good enough..."

"Agent Mulder. You are about to cross the line. I would think very carefully
before you utter another word."

They held each others eyes momentarily; unrelenting hardness in one set, anger in
the other until Mulder backed down, the sulleness of his expression a true
indicator that he had no intention of letting the subject drop.

Skinner flinched slightly as a coldness crept into the usually warm, hazel eyes.
He raised a hand to forestall Mulder's explosion.

"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder, but you no longer report to me, it's not within my
power to assign you to the case."

Mulder stared hard into the deep brown eyes as if trying to decipher some hidden
meaning in the dark depths but Skinner was giving nothing away. Recognising the
dismissal, Mulder turned away without another word.

Walter Skinner swallowed visibly. The whole thing had left a sour taste in his
mouth but he had his orders to make no special dispensations for his former
agents and approaching Kersh to reassign the pair, even temporarily, would be
tantamount to disobeying that order. However, he could ensure that this
connection between the missing men was investigated, recognising that it was fear
for his lover that had driven Mulder to his door. His meeting with 'Morley Man'
proved the Consortium knew Krycek had resurfaced in the US and he realised it
would only be a matter of time before they found him.

Skinner dropped his head into his hands, fingers massaging his temples where the
tell-tale signs of a massive headache were beginning to make themselves known.
Despite his own continuing anger at the ex-FBI Agent, Skinner felt he owed it to
Mulder to try and protect his lover. He looked up, pressed the intercom button
and spoke to his secretary.

"Kimberley. Please send for Agents Harris and Davidson."

********************

Mulder stormed back to his desk and dropped into his seat, cursing himself for
believing Skinner would help him. If he'd kept his mouth shut then he could have
done a little more investigating himself but he had put his faith in Skinner.

"Dammit."

He dropped his fist to the desk, wincing slightly at the pain that jarred along
his arm. The soft, familiar sound of his partner's voice floated over his
shoulder in inquiry and he swivelled in his chair to face Scully.

"I just blew it with Skinner. I thought I could trust the man but..." He slouched
over and put his forehead on the desk.

"What is it, Mulder?"

Dana Scully perched herself on the edge of his desk and waited, knowing Mulder
would tell her in his own time. She watched as he raised his head from the desk,
an embittered smile toying about his mouth. He stared at his own reflection in
the darkened computer screen for a moment and then turned anxious eyes to his
partner.

"Alex's life is in danger and there's not a damn thing I can do to about it. I
think that Cancer ridden bastard knows Alex is here... and now it's only a matter
of time..."

Mulder straightened up suddenly and grabbed his cellphone. How could he have been
so stupid? There had to be a good reason why this name should arrive on his desk
today. It was a warning. He punched the speed dial and mumbled to himself as the
answer phone message cut in. His listened impatiently to the sound of his own
voice.

"Pick up the phone, Alex. Cummon, take a chance and pick up the phone..." As the
brief answer-message ended Mulder spoke louder. "He knows you're here."

********************

The journey back to his apartment seemed to take forever and Mulder found himself
leaning on the horn on more than one occasion as he impatiently negotiated the
early evening commuter rush. Eventually he pulled up outside his apartment block
and jumped out of the car. Fingers fumbled with the key and he decided against
waiting for the ancient elevator and took the stairs three at a time. The hallway
leading to his door was empty and, as he walked along the narrow corridor he
could barely make out the sound of the other inhabitants except for the
occasional muted hum of a television set. He slid the key into the lock on his
door and turned it slowly, keeping his tall frame to the side just in case he had
unwelcome visitors though why he expected them today was pure paranoia. The
arrival of the plain manila envelope had given him the jitters - not for his own
sake but for his lover's.

The door swung open on newly greased hinges... one of the differences between him
and Alex. He preferred the grating sound that would pre-warn him of some
intrusion, Alex preferred the well-oiled silence so he could slip in and out of
the apartment unheard, thereby reducing the chances of him being seen. The
silence within the apartment was unnerving. Had Alex heeded his warning and gone
to ground... or was there a more sinister reason for the heaviness of the dead
air? He moved from room to room, watching for signs of an unwanted third party
and, simultaneously, dreading finding something or someone. He pushed open the
kitchen door, concerned that it was shut... something that neither of them ever
did, his breath hitching as the unmistakable smell of blood assailed his senses.

"Alex!"

He knew, the moment he stepped into the room, that a body had lain in the pool of
dark red, viscous liquid that was spread out across the kitchen floor and that
left too many thoughts crowding around his head. Whose body? Was it Alex or
someone injured or killed by Alex? Where was Alex? Did he escape? Was he now a
hostage... or was he dead, his body taken away by his murderers?

Mulder sank into the seat at the kitchen table and stared at the pool of blood.
Fear coiled heavily in his stomach. He should have contacted Alex earlier...
before going to Skinner.

********************

Two Hours Earlier 
2630 Hegal Place 
Apartment 42 
Alexandria

The sound of Mulder's answer machine kicking in had brought his head around. He
never picked up the phone, not wanting to advertise his presence but he always
listened in on the call just in case. He moved closer to the phone the moment he
recognised Mulder's voice, his hand hesitating as he reached for the handset. The
message was brief and to the point... and Krycek went instantly on his guard,
senses reaching out to encompass his surroundings. With silent, graceful
movements he gathered up a few necessary possessions, pulled on Mulder's leather
jacket and stepped into the kitchen. He took the spare gun from the drawer where
it had been left for safe-keeping.

Cradling the Glock 9mm with silencer in his hand, he sat at the small table in a
position that gave him a clear view of the only entrances yet afforded him some
protection. Mulder's message had insinuated that the Consortium knew he was back
in the States but whether or not they knew of his current location was another
matter entirely. So he sat silently, gun resting on the table, fingers curled
around the handle and trigger and waited for someone to show; hoping it would be
only Mulder who came through the doorway.

Time passed slowly until the quiet click of a door being opened and then closed
brought his head snapping up, his ears straining to hear soft footsteps. He
smiled malevolently. There were three sets of footsteps so, unless Mulder had
brought home some very quiet company, he knew to expect the worst.

The barrel of a gun came through the doorway first, the hand following was
definitely male and, to Alex, easily identifiable by the coarse dark hairs and
the single lucky charm hanging from the thick gold chain that dangled from the
wrist. He recognised Roberts, one of Cancer Man's goons; a nasty sadistic piece
of work who loved to torture his victims before carrying out a death sentence.
Alex gave the man no time to take a bead on his position and shot where he knew
the heart would be. The man tumbled forward into the kitchen, the single shot
finding its target.

Wasting no time in admiring his handiwork, he jumped up and climbed through the
kitchen window onto the fire escape. The street below was empty so he leapt down
the metal stairway using the hand bars to control his flight, reaching the final
landing in moments. Foregoing the retractable ladder, he leapt over the side,
dangling for a moment before allowing his body to drop the remaining distance to
the ground. He ran on, pausing at the entrance to the alley, head whipping around
the corner to check for any other goons but the clatter of feet from the fire
escape forced his hand and he stepped out of the alley, moving swiftly along the
street.

The sound of a car pulling up close behind him sent him running hard, angling
down another garbage strewn alleyway. He could hear the sound of pursuit as the
car knocked aside trash cans and cardboard boxes. Krycek cursed when he saw the
tall mesh fence ahead, shoved the Glock into his inside pocket and leapt, his
fingers grasping the wire. He scrambled up, thankful he had spent so much time
rebuilding the strength in both of his arms. Behind him he could hear the sound
of a car door opening and running feet. A hand grabbed at his ankle, scraping
against his booted foot and he kicked clear, making the top and swinging his body
over, hoping the pursuers were too involved in their attempt to grab him to have
weapons drawn. He dropped the 8 feet to the floor, landing awkwardly as a bullet
zinged passed his side sending a sharp, burning through his body. Ignoring the
pain, he gained his feet and ran. Behind him he could hear a deep male voice
cussing.

"Put those fucking guns away! He said 'alive', you fools."

The booming voice was still audible as Alex high-tailed it down the alleyway. He
heard the man order the others back to the car but knew at least one of CSM's
goons had breached the fence and was on his tail.

Racing around the corner he encountered his first piece of luck. The street was
crowded with people watching an altercation between the owners of two vehicles
that had collided. Krycek dove into the small crowd of about 20 people and
gradually made his way to the other side. Glancing back he could see Goon number
2 jumping up onto the base of a street lamp so he could see above the heads,
narrowed eyes searching the crowd for his prey. Krycek pulled a baseball cap out
of his pocket before slipping off his jacket, revealing a pale, green T-shirt,
hoping he may have altered his appearance enough to fool the other man but there
was something else he had been practising, something he had not yet shown
Mulder... and now seemed the appropriate time to use this new found skill. It
took a lot of concentration but, somehow, he managed to remould his features and
shape, changing the colour of his hair and compacting his body to a slightly
different configuration. CSM's man brushed right passed him, barely registering
the stout, auburn-haired man with the startling green eyes. The man slapped his
gun against his thigh and moved off, pushing his way through the crowd to a
waiting dark sedan.

Krycek concentrated hard on maintaining his disguise as he watched the occupants
exchange heated words before the other man clambered inside. A puff of blue smoke
curling out through the slightly opened window told it's own story. The sedan
took off slowly, the eyes of the three men inside glued to the outside scene,
still searching for sign of their prey. Once the car drifted out of sight Krycek
released the hold he had on his body and felt it ripple back into its true
configuration. Ignoring the confused expression on the man closest to him, he
headed back through the crowd the way he had come and ran quickly for the bus
just pulling up to a stop. It didn't matter where it was going as long as it took
him well away from the search area. He slumped into a seat by the exit, keeping
his head lowered and breathed a sigh of relief as the bus picked up speed.

********************

2630 Hegal Place 
Apartment 42 
Alexandria

Waiting.... how he hated waiting. He could be a patient man when necessary but
fear for Alex set him pacing through the apartment. Mulder threw himself onto the
ancient leather couch, his head bouncing back as it hit the upright. The sun had
begun to set behind the tall buildings opposite and Mulder watched the shadows
lengthen across the floor until the room was lit only by the light from the fish
tank.

Silence... the apartment seemed so silent to him now. He could still hear the
muted sounds of life beyond his four walls, the whispers of television sets, the
soft footfalls of people moving through the corridors but these were not the
sounds he had become accustomed to. He strained to hear the sound of Alex
pottering in the kitchen making coffee, the rustle of paper as Alex turned the
pages in a book, magazine or newspaper. That made him smile. He'd never thought
of Alex being a bookworm but the man seemed to soak up the written word and never
seemed more relaxed than when he had his nose deeply buried in a book. The latest
title lay discarded upon the low coffee table. Mulder reached for it, turning the
battered paperback over in his hands before placing it back onto the table. He
glanced towards the door... nothing... no-one.

Other remembered sounds filled his mind and he cocked his head as if the memory
alone could bring them back. He missed the soft grunting breaths as Alex pushed
himself to complete the punishing fitness regime... and the gentle humming that
seemed to follow Alex around the apartment. It was hard to believe a man who had
spent so many years on the run could make so much noise and, many a time, Mulder
had stood outside the bathroom door listening to the surprisingly good tenor
voice that floated above the spray of the shower while the vision of an angel in
Krycek's form danced through his mind.

Mulder flicked on the reading lamp and watched as the encroaching darkness was
pushed back into the corners of the room. In only a few short weeks Alex Krycek
had brought his own form of light into Mulder's life. He had quickly grown used
to the ready smile that greeted him each morning; the arms that reeled him in,
soothing away the tension of another wasted day; the soft lips that would claim
his own, sucking gently, tongue probing delicately... and those clever fingers...
ten clever fingers... that would ease the constricting tie and push the jacket
from his shoulders when he came home.

It was hard to believe the gentleness, the sensuality of the man when all he had
seen before was a hardened assassin. Hard to believe those pure notes that filled
the air in song could deepen to a husky, sexy voice full of lust and need. His
eidetic memory mapped the strong body; the wide shoulders, the smooth almost
hairless chest; the silky softness of inner thigh beneath his fingertips.

"Alex... where the hell are you?"

The darkness seemed to encroach once more, filling his mind as well as his sight
until....

A soft voice was crooning nearby and he could hear the rustle of paper, of pages
being turned in a book. Mulder smiled.

"Alex?"

He rolled over and sat up, glancing across to the easy chair where Alex liked to
sit with his legs tucked up beneath him. Sunlight streamed across the room,
reflecting off the radiant smile and dancing green eyes. He couldn't remember
crossing the room but didn't care. Everything he wanted was here. His fingers
carded through the long strands of mahogany, mesmerised by the red-gold
shimmering in the brightness. His fingers were captured and brought to a
kiss-ripened mouth. A glint of white between those pink lips held him motionless
as first one finger and then another was drawn into that velvet cavern. Soft
vibrations against the sensitive tips as Alex moaned in delight. His fingers were
released and a husky voice breathed his name over and over. Mulder closed his
eyes as licks of energy traversed the length of his body.

//I'm in heaven...//

The thought was reinforced by the soft notes of a harp...

His eyes opened suddenly and he gasped into a darkened room. A quick check on the
illuminated display of the VCR showed that several hours had passed; he had
fallen asleep on the couch. Mulder cocked his head to one side, trying to capture
any sense of what had awoken him and then it registered. He moved quickly to the
PC set up on his desk and checked. He had mail; the soft harp music announcing
the arrival of a single message.

Shaking off the remnants of his dream, Mulder opened the message... 'Dusk 'til
dawn'. He frowned at the cryptic words and then it clicked. Moments later he had
grabbed his coat, keys and gun and was striding to the door.

********************

Somewhere on the Waterfront 
Washington DC

When Mulder was certain he had not been followed he turned towards a seamier part
of the city near the waterfront. Eventually he found himself standing beside a
small booth at the back of a seedy bar, his eyes raking the slightly bedraggled
figure of his lover. Mulder reached forward and grabbed the collar of the leather
jacket, pulling Krycek out of his seat. A sharp incline of his head towards the
back of the bar indicated his intent.

Alex followed him into the surprisingly clean washroom, his eyes widening in
surprise when Mulder turned suddenly and grabbed him once more; forcing him into
one of the private compartments. He was pushed onto the closed toilet seat as
Mulder twisted round to close the door and bolt it.

Mulder dropped to his knees in front of his lover, simultaneously parting the
muscular thighs so he could wrap his arms under the leather and around the strong
torso. He sighed against Krycek's chest, oblivious to the slight wince as he
listened to the steady beat of his lover's heart thrumming beneath him. Slowly,
he matched his own erratic breathing to the rise and fall of the chest. Fingers
dragged through his hair and he felt the whisper touch of a kiss on the top of
his head.

"I missed you too."

Krycek felt the chuckle that shook the body pressed against his own. Gradually,
Mulder pulled back, tilting his head so he could gaze into his love's
stormy-green eyes. Those eyes fluttered closed as Alex leaned forward taking his
mouth in a gentle kiss of reassurance. Mulder tightened his grip as Krycek moved
to pull away, the gentleness fading as all the fear of the last few hours
possessed him. He crushed his lips against their counterpart, forcing them to
open and welcome the blunt invader that licked and probed the heated interior. A
tremor reverberated through their joining as Alex moaned in desire.

Alex's eyes opened to slivers as a hand insinuated its way between their close
pressed bodies. He felt the fingers deftly pop the button and then slide down the
zip of his jeans. Mulder released his mouth, his hands urging the younger man to
wriggle slightly so he could free the burgeoning erection.

A wicked smile dashed across the agent's face, the tip of his tongue teasing
beneath the foreskin before he bent to deep-throat the rigid shaft. Above him he
heard Krycek gasp as Mulder took up a strong sucking rhythm. One hand on his hip
preventing him from bucking into the hot mouth. He threw back his head and bit
down hard into the side of his own hand to stop the whimpers turning into screams
as the intense pleasure peaked, short-circuiting his brain.

Mulder swallowed greedily, trying to capture every last drop of the bitter
ejaculate before he released the softening organ, his lust-filled gaze drinking
in the exposed column of throat. After an eternity had passed, Alex tipped his
head back down, eyes still tightly closed, breathing still heavy and erratic but
slowly coming back under control. When the heavy lids finally opened, there was
barely a glimmer of green around the dilated pupils and Mulder believed he had
never seen anything more beautiful than that sweat-sheened, satiated, angelic
face.

Gentle fingers caressed his cheek, stopping at the corner of his mouth to pick up
a spilt droplet. Mulder watched as Alex licked the droplet from his own finger.
He grinned up at the still stunned expression and rose to his feet. With quick
movements he dropped his pants. Alex leaned forward and pressed his mouth against
the cotton covered bulge, the pressure eliciting a stronger response as the
tumescent flesh grew harder still. Alex pulled down the briefs to release the
circumcised head, his tongue darting out to flick across the sensitive glans, his
teeth softly grazing the sensitive skin before he opened his mouth to take in the
engorged flesh.

Mulder sighed in frustration as the gentleness continued. He rocked his hips,
hoping to coax Alex into a stronger rhythm but the teasing went on. Ever so
gradually, a slow, burning sensation curled in his belly, slowly radiating
outwards. His limbs felt heavy, soft and languorous as the heat spread to the
very tips of his fingers and toes. When annihilation came he felt as if he had
been momentarily suspended in time and space before a wave of passion rolled over
him, crashing him back down to Earth in a torrent of ecstasy.

His knees buckled and he was grateful for the strong arms that supported him
until he could regain control. Alex stood up, closely pressed against him in the
restrictive compartment as they shared the taste of each other in a deep but
gentle kiss.

They froze at the sound of someone stumbling into the washroom, waited,
motionless as statues until the man finished relieving himself and stumbled back
out into the bar, both breathing a sigh of relief that the man had been too drunk
to notice two pairs of feet beneath the compartment door.

"We oughta go back out."

"Yeah."

Mulder unbolted the door and headed for the urinal. He followed Alex out a few
minutes later and slid into the seat opposite his lover. They stared at each
other for a moment, suddenly at a loss for words. Mulder cleared his throat.

"So. How did you know I'd remember this place?"

Krycek smiled. They had come here once while partners following up a lead on a
drugs case. He had relied on Mulder's eidetic memory to make the connection when
reading the cryptic email he had sent. Mulder frowned when he realised Alex was
not going to answer that particular question, instead, Alex hailed the barman.

"What happened, Alex?"

Krycek waited until they had a drink in front of them before he related what had
happened at the apartment after Mulder's warning. His eyes were guarded as he
mentioned killing one of the uninvited guests, watching the play of emotions
across the all too expressive face.

"Did you recognise any of them?"

Krycek exhaled sharply. "Of course. They were the Smoker's men. The one I killed
worked with me on a couple of assignments. Name of Roberts." He looked deeply
into the hazel eyes. "I don't regret killing him. He was a nasty piece of work.
Got better than he deserved... certainly better than he dished out."

Mulder looked away. It was one of the few things he had yet to reconcile with
Alexei Krycek. Alex had killed although, once more, it may have been in
self-defence. However, there was still one part of Krycek's story that did not
ring true.

"I don't understand how they could have walked right past you."

It was time to explain the extra gift the Englishman had bestowed upon him. He
gazed deep into the worried, quizzical eyes and took a deep breath.

"A new arm wasn't the only thing I got."

Krycek willed his features to change, the concentration needed making him miss
the incredulous look that spread across his lover's features. Alex looked back
from a new visage into the wide-eyed, astonished look, held the new configuration
for a moment longer and then let go until it was the dark-haired, angelic face
that Mulder knew so well staring back.

"Anything else you haven't told me?"

Krycek shook his head slowly. "Not that I know of." He took a sip of the cool
beer, licked his lips and replaced the glass on the table top. "Now it's your
turn. Why the warning?"

Mulder related the sequence of events that started with the arrival of the manila
envelope. He pulled copies of the seven Missing Persons reports from his coat
pocket and spread them out on the table. Picking up the first, he handed it to
Alex, waiting for a reaction.

A frown deepened the crease over the bridge of Krycek's nose as he stared at a
face so similar to his own.

"Scully did some digging... found some personal information on each of the
victims... and I got the Gunmen to correlate any unusual paranormal activity
occurring at the time of the disappearances."

The frown turned to puzzlement until Mulder held up the pieced together document
from Spender's trash bin and placed it alongside Michael Anacek's report.

"Colonists?"

"Who else. What I can't understand is why... and that's why I want you to lie
low. Skinner may have refused me official permission to investigate but he
doesn't control my own time. Scully's agreed to spend the weekend in Barter's
Grove."

"The woman needs a life of her own," Krycek muttered under his breath, eyes
downcast so he missed the beaming smile generated by his statement.

"Are you jealous?"

"No! No... envious. I would rather you were spending the weekend with me."

"I know. Me too."

Alex looked away in embarrassment. This was still all too new to him. He was
still expecting to wake up and find it was all just an elaborate dream... a
beautiful dream, admittedly, but still *just* a dream. He covered his
embarrassment by picking up one of the other reports.

"I'll take this one."

When Mulder made no sound, Alex glanced backup to find warring emotions flitting
across those expressive eyes. Mulder began to shake his head.

"No. It's too dangerous. What if this is a trap? A way of getting you out into
the open."

Green eyes softened as Mulder's concern for his well-being washed over him. It
had been a long time since someone cared enough to want him safe. Most of those
who had helped him over the years had not done it out of the kindness of their
hearts; they were fulfilling their own hidden agendas, expecting a return for the
favour.

"I can't just sit around twiddling my thumbs..." He smiled, his eyes darting down
to the new hand, "... no matter how enjoyable the sensation. I can help here,
Mulder. I can go places you can't; talk to people who would kill you before you
could ask the first question."

Mulder relented.

"Okay. But keep in touch... somehow."

"Perhaps that's what we need to talk about next."

They spent the remainder of time at the seedy bar setting up a communications
system that would enable Mulder to get messages to Alex and vice versa. It was
not perfect but it was the best they could do under the circumstances. The method
was not secure. Using the internet never was but a series of passwords would,
hopefully, ensure no-one could send a message that could lead either into a trap.

The parting was painful. Had it only been two weeks since Alex had become such a
major part of his life? It seemed as if they had spent years together and Mulder
knew he would miss those strong arms wrapped around him as they drifted into
sleep. He would miss the beautiful smile that greeted him first thing in the
morning.

With one last look Mulder climbed into the cab he had called from the bar.

********************

A large shadow detached itself from the darkened side of the building. He had
backed off when he saw Fox Mulder walking towards the exit having previously
maintained a good view of the interior through the grimy window. His square jaw
set into a close-mouthed smile as he watched the unsuspecting human climb into
the back of a cab and head off into the distance.

Following the son of William Mulder to this place had been so easy. Mulder had
taken no notice of the man who followed him to the bus-stop; had walked pass the
mature woman who had taken a seat two rows in front. He had barely even glanced
at the series of men and women who followed him from bus to subway to bus to taxi
as he took a circuitous route to this bar.

The Bounty Hunter was used to following a trail as convoluted as this one and Fox
Mulder had not disappointed him as he shadowed the human to this seamier part of
the city. He had gambled that the FBI agent would eventually lead him to his true
quarry. He had waited patiently outside the seedy bar watching the two figures
through the dirtied window pane, pleased that his gamble had paid off. The Smoker
wanted this other human, had already tried to retrieve him without success.

Want. A strange human word with various shades of meaning. Want. To wish to
acquire. Want... to desire sexually.

Yes. The Smoker desired this young human but it wasn't a healthy kind of 'want'.
Not that he cared. He had been given a task and, soon, he would fulfil it. The
Bounty Hunter felt a momentary stab of annoyance. He resented having to do these
pathetic little tasks for these pathetic little humans but his orders were quite
clear. His service was part of the 'deal' made between the Consortium and his own
people, the Colonists.

After the cab had disappeared from view he returned to his previous watching
place. He smiled when he saw the dark-haired human rise from his seat near the
back of the bar. Following Mulder had not been a challenge despite the Agent's
wariness but *this* human seemed to have an acute sixth sense. Somehow, he was
able to see through all the disguises. The Bounty Hunter wondered if this was a
throwback to the time when the human had been taken over by one of his immature
brethren or whether the years on the run had heightened his senses in the name of
self-preservation. Whichever, he knew he would have to be quick to capture the
human, using the element of surprise. He watched as Alexei Krycek shrugged on the
leather jacket and made his way towards the back of the bar. The Bounty Hunter
frowned. He had checked out the building and there was only one other exit but
the human was not moving towards it. His mouth quirked up in one corner as he
realised the human's destination. He waited, expecting to see Krycek walk back
out of the washroom anytime.

The sound of a motor bike engine being gunned brought another frown and he raced
around the side of the building in time to see the familiar figure speed off.
With an almost human sigh he turned back, spotting the partially opened window at
the back of the building. This time Krycek had gotten away but there would be
another time.

********************

Saturday Night 
Barter's Grove

The multi-coloured lights and strobes brought back memories of Oxford where he
and some of the other undergraduates would charge into one of the small
discotheque-pubs every Saturday night, spending the evening doing the inane
things prevalent to most young males on the prowl. He had met Phoebe Green on one
of those outings; had fallen for her dark, patrician looks and her sharp
intellect, ignoring the advice of friends who said she was a class-A bitch. For
two years she had used and abused him until he finally decided to start defending
himself... then she had dropped him in favour of another 'sap'. It was years
later that he was able to take a step back and analyse their doomed relationship
and her need to control every situation. He grimaced. Shame he had not turned
that psychoanalyst 'shit' upon himself. Maybe then he might have avoided falling
into the clutches of yet another dark-haired, manipulating, class-A bitch; Diana
Fowley. His introspection ended with a sharp dig of an elbow into his side. He
looked down to find Scully glaring at him.

"Why are we here?"

Scully mouthed the words, not even attempting to shout above the sound of the
Juke box which was playing a recent Cher hit... very loudly.

"Because..."

Mulder gave up, forced to resort to sign language. He pointed across the interior
to an empty table at the far end of the bar. He and Scully gently pushed their
way across the dance floor through the sweaty, gyrating bodies. They flopped into
the chairs in relief. Back here it was a little quieter. They gave the waitress
their order and scanned the crowd until the drinks arrived.

Scully took a sip of her tequila sunrise as she waited to see what her partner
was going to do next. Mulder picked up his own drink and began to take a gulp of
the cold Bud; smacking his lips in appreciation.

"That hits the spot, Scully."

That well-sculptured eyebrow rose again in disdainful resignation. She rolled her
eyes away, wondering for the nth time why she was sitting in a noisy bar on a
Saturday night in a dead-end town while the rest of that raunchy Jackie Collins
novel was waiting for her at home.

"Hey, Scully. Was that a Jackie Collins novel in your bathroom?"

Her startled eyes turned back to him, suddenly pleased about the lack of decent
lighting which would conceal the blush that heated her cheeks.

//Damn!! How does he do that?//

She remembered him asking to use the bathroom when he picked her up early this
morning and knew his photographic memory had probably taken a snapshot of what he
seen... but how did he time it so well? How did he manage to pick the exact
thought from her brain?

"Deduction, Scully. You looked like you had something far better to do on a
Saturday night... and having a half-read novel by the bath tub after your
previous comment about going home for a bath and tequila..."

"Okay. Okay. I'll admit that I enjoy your company, Mulder, but there are times
and places. As I said before... Why are we here?"

Mulder gave her that all-knowing grin, gulped down the remainder of the beer and
beckoned to the waitress. When she arrived he held out a twenty dollar bill,
holding on tight as she tried to take it, bringing her head down close to his.

"I'm looking for Paul Bright."

The waitress straightened and then pointed to a flamboyant looking man dressed in
a red suede jacket, pale silk shirt and pale slacks.

"Keep the change."

She smiled her thanks for the huge tip and walked away. Mulder motioned for
Scully to stay seated as he unfolded his long frame from the chair and made his
way across the room to the Pimp.

"Hey, there! I'm looking for a man..."

The Pimp eyed Mulder, noting the expensive watch.

"Well, you've come to the right place. There's plenty around here to choose
from..."

"No. Not just any man. This one was about my height. Dark hair, green eyes. Went
by the name of Michael. He... provided a service last time I was in town. Thought
I'd look him up again."

The Pimp's expression went from suspicious to lewd as he took in the ring on
Mulder's left hand. He was well acquainted with married men who used business
trips to indulge in their passion for other men, leaving the little wife at home
and oblivious.

"So who's the broad?"

"Work colleague."

The man eyed Scully suspiciously but he smiled, acknowledging the boredom in her
expression. Only a work colleague would be brought to a dump like this... never a
wife.

"Well, I can't help you. Michael found himself a sugar daddy. Left me high and
dry - except for my other studs. Hey, Leon! Come on over and say hello to..."

Mulder held up a hand.

"No... I was kinda only interested in Michael. My type. You know what I mean?"

Mulder gave a sly wink and felt sickened by the man's counter expression of
camaraderie. Leon approached seductively. Mulder wanted to shrug off the arm that
draped around his waist but this Leon was quite a big guy... not someone to mess
with.

"Who was this 'sugar daddy'?"

"*You're* mighty interested in Michael... Are you a Cop?"

"No... it's just... Michael looks a lot like someone I knew... and..."

The man smirked.

"Substitute meat, hey! Well, have no idea who the man was. Older guy, greying.
Smoked a lot. Now, unless you're interested in finding another *substitute* soul
mate..." The man's eyes trailed over Mulder's athletic body lewdly. "... or
joining my stable?" The man leered. "Guy as good looking as you could make a lot
of money..."

"No. Thanks."

Mulder turned away and walked back passed the table, surreptitiously motioning
for Scully to follow. She grabbed his arm and steered him off in a more
circuitous route to the exit. They didn't stop moving until Mulder was safely
behind the wheel of his car with Dana beside him.

"We made it out of there in good time. I saw Agents Harris and Davidson from
Skinner's department on the far side of the bar."

Mulder pursed his lips feeling, suddenly, a little perturbed. He thought he had
made a grave mistake going to Skinner; thought the man would ignore his theory
connecting the seven missing men but, instead, Skinner had kept his word and
assigned some agents to the case.

"Did they see us?"

"No... I don't believe so. Anyway, what did you find out?"

"It appears Michael was last seen in the company of someone older, greyer... who
smoked a lot. Ring any bells, Scully?"

********************

Same Time 
An Alleyway behind a bar 
Detroit

Alex shoved the man up against the wall, forcing the gun under the ribs into the
soft abdomen as his forearm pressed hard against the man's windpipe.

"The only blow job you're gonna get is from this gun... when I blow you away. You
know, I don't care for your kind. You're trash... lower than trash. So... Are you
gonna tell me what I want to know?  Or are you gonna die?"

The loan shark shook, terrified by the ferocity of the assault, by the feral
gleam in the narrowed green eyes.

"Yes... Okay, I'll talk. Please."

The man croaked pleadingly and then sagged when Krycek removed his arm but not
the gun.

"Davey owed some people some money. He liked to gamble; borrowed some off me to
pay his debts. Believe me, I'm not such an ogre... not like some of the big
boys."

"Stop snivelling."

"Yes. Sure. Okay. Last I saw of him he said he'd figured out a way to pay me
off."

"How?"

The man licked his lips and gave a pathetic leer.

"You know... by doing *that*. Personal services."

"Personal services to whom?"

"Look. I don't know any more. Jeez, it was years ago... Okay. Okay." The man
cried out as Krycek's dug the gun in hard. "I only saw the go-between; the
driver. A man who would be in his mid-thirties now; a blondie."

"What about the man he was chauffeuring?"

"I didn't see him. He kept to the shadows in the car. Chain smoker though."

Krycek released the man abruptly, pushing him aside.

"Get out of here."

He watched as the man scurried away down the alleyway, constantly looking back
over his shoulder as if certain a bullet would be winging its way the moment his
back was turned. When the man had disappeared around the corner, Alex took off in
the other direction, heading back to the nondescript hotel room. On the way he
saw something very, very useful.

Krycek was grateful for the rise in the internet café market. He slipped into a
seat near the back where he could keep an eye on all the patrons *and* on the
door. He logged on under a little known username; the one he had asked Mulder to
contact if anything happened. It took a few minutes but he spent the time sipping
the strong black coffee brought over by the young waitress. Eventually, he
located the message board. Krycek pursed his lips. Mulder wanted to meet; had
given a location. He checked his watch and calculated how long it would take him
to reach the rendezvous. There was still time but staying here any longer was not
a  great idea. He had no idea if the Smoker knew of this particular internet ID
but was not willing to take the chance.

He took a last gulp of coffee, replaced the cup and slipped a few dollars under
the saucer. Moments later he was putting as much distance between himself and the
café as he could... just in case. He paid his hotel bill in cash, not wanting to
use any of his various credit cards in case they were being monitored.

Krycek shoved his meagre belongings under the pillion of the bike and set off
back towards DC. As he rode, he thought... and the more he thought, the more he
became convinced that there was more to these disappearances that met the eye. He
had a theory and Mulder was not gonna like it one bit.

********************

Saturday Night 
Barter's Grove

Agent Harris shoved his FBI ID card at the barman, motioning towards the similar
wallet being displayed by his partner, Davidson. The barman snarled in annoyance
and jerked an arm out towards the back of the bar where Paul Bright still held
court amongst a small group of people.

The man eyed the approaching agents suspiciously. He recognised 'law
enforcement'; prided himself on being able to smell a cop a mile away. He pushed
the pretty young man hanging onto his arm aside brusquely as FBI identities were
held in front of his face.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure..."

"Don't worry, sir. We're not here to arrest you. Agent Harris and myself are
investigating the disappearance of a Michael Anacek..."

"You and everyone else."

"I'm sorry, Sir? Have there been other enquiries?"

"Yeah... in fact you just missed someone asking the whereabouts of Mikey. You
know what, I'll tell you the same thing I told him. Mikey ran out on me. Got
himself a Sugar Daddy; Older guy, chain smoker from what I could see."

"What about the other guy?"

"What other guy?"

"The one who was just asking about..."

"Oh him. Look, he was just some out-of-towner looking for a rematch..."

"Humour me. Give me a description."

"Tall, good-looking white boy. Wouldn't expect him to have to pay for sex. He had
a broad with him. A lovely petite red-head. Looked pretty pissed off being
dragged to a dump like this."

Harris gave a nod to Davidson and the other agent went off, checking through the
bar for a couple who fitted that description.

"Could you identify this older man..."

"No. Only ever saw his hand and a brief flash when he lit up the next cigarette.
Now, unless you plan on charging me with something..."

Harris closed his notepad with a terse smile. He was surprised to have gained
this much information out of the man and decided not to push his luck any
further.

"Thank you, Sir. You've been very helpful."

He circled through the bar, meeting his fellow agent on the other side. A shake
of the head and the grim set mouth showed a lack of success. They checked with
the doorman, discovered a couple matching that description had left several
minutes earlier. Harris wrote down the details in his notebook and they headed
back to their car.

********************

Another Seedy Bar 
Washington DC

Although he could see Mulder seated at a table near the back of the bar, Krycek
waited and watched from the shadows. He saw Mulder check his watch for the third
time, recognised the worry that tightened the full lips but some sixth sense was
screaming at him to stay back. He felt uneasy but, apart from a few well-soused
customers and the bar staff there was no-one else around. Years on the run had
taught him to take the tingle that raised the hairs on the back of his neck
seriously but, eventually, the need to gaze into those beautiful blue-gold eyes
overpowered his survival instincts. He sauntered forward and, with another
surreptitious look around the near-empty bar, he slid into the seat opposite his
lover.

"About time!" The relief on Mulder's face was just as evident in the soft voice.

"Miss me?"

"Always."

Krycek lowered his eyes away in embarrassment. He was not used to having people
admit they worried for him and he'd spent too many years making sure no-one got
close enough to care; pushing away anyone who tried. So how did Mulder manage to
squeeze passed the barriers he had erected? How had this man managed to succeed
where all the others had failed? And there *had* been others, enticed by a pretty
face and a good body. Krycek gave an inward sneer. Oh yes, he knew he was good
looking; had used it to his advantage many a time. Thoughts of Marita Covarrubias
crossed his mind as he remembered using sex as a means of gaining her
co-operation and assistance in escaping Russia with the boy. She had been good
between the sheets; a she-cat whose nails left scratch marks down his back... and
she had not been repelled by his prosthesis. If anything, he believed it might
have turned her on all the more; giving her the controlling edge in their
encounter.

//Bitch!//

"Alex?"

Krycek looked up into the worried face.

"It's okay. Just a trip down memory lane... and talking of trips, how did yours
turn out?"

Mulder eyed him suspiciously; recognising an attempt to move away from whatever
thoughts had occupied his lover's mind for that brief moment in time. The
temptation to dig in his heels and force Alex to expose those thoughts was
strong. He wanted to know everything about this man; every thought; every memory.
He wanted to soothe every hurt; laugh with him at every good time; give comfort
for every bad time. He wanted to possess this man, body and soul. Alex was like a
drug; a growing addiction and some of that obsession must have shown in his eyes
but, instead of being frightened, an equal measure of ferocity and obsession
darkened the green eyes. Eventually, Mulder broke the hold they had on each other
as he described his encounter with Paul Bright; Anacek's pimp.

"Older man, greying... heavy smoker. If I was a betting man then my money would
be placed on a certain cancerous bastard." Mulder sat back in his seat. "What did
you find out?"

"Same thing. Last seen with an older man... chain smoker."

"I don't understand it. All those men disappeared without a trace. Even Cancer
Man's goons couldn't have mistaken all of them for you..." Mulder paused as a
strange look came over his lover's face. "What is it?"

"It *is* me."

Krycek looked away at the puzzled expression. It was time to shake another
skeleton from his closet, to expose the theory that would make or break their
relationship.

"When I was first recruited, I was a little green. I had this idea that I was
going to save the world and I... I kinda idolised the man who recruited me."

Mulder noticed the blush that swept across the averted features, tingeing even
the tips of the slightly pointed ears but the thinned lips showed it was due to
more than just embarrassment... and then it hit. He remembered Alex telling him
that he had been recruited by the Smoking Man so...

"You had a crush on Cancer Man?"

The incredulous tone brought Krycek's head spinning back until their eyes met.
The chagrined expression told the rest of the story and Mulder felt his heart
stop cold.

"You slept with him?" No answer except a slight pursing of lips. "You fucked that
cancer-ridden bastard?"

Krycek's eyes slid away from the accusing glare, darting around to check no-one
had heard the slightly raised voice. His thoughts were a whirl. Should he tell
Mulder that it had been more than a one-night stand? That he had been at the
Smoking Man's beck and call for years before his assignment to *work* with FBI
Special Agent Fox William Mulder had opened his eyes to the truth. The look on
Fox Mulder's face told him that this was one subject that needed to be brought
out into the open or any future they might have together would be lost.

"I think this is one of those times when you need to stop and listen before
passing judgement."

He paused and sighed at the implacable posture Mulder had taken with arms folded,
lips a thin line and eyes glaring in anger. Was it even worth trying? Something
inside told him to start talking knowing that Mulder *would* hear even if he
wasn't prepared to deal with it right now.

"I was young... impressionable. I *believed* him. Believed in what he said we
were doing... that it was for our country." Krycek looked imploringly at the man
who meant more to him than life itself, pleading with Mulder to understand how
naive he had been. "It wasn't lust and it certainly wasn't love. I can't explain.
Hell, you're the psychologist." He paused but Mulder made no effort to relent.
"The first time... I let him seduce me. It was a power thing. This... this...
powerful man being at my mercy. Then, as time went by, it became a force of
habit, climbing into his bed whenever he commanded like a good little soldier,
afraid of the consequences if I said 'No'."

Krycek looked deep into the cold eyes, hoping to see some sign of a thaw.

"That night on Skyland Mountain, when Duane Barry handed Scully over to... them.
That's when the last embers of my innocence flickered and died. Watching you
climb out of the cable car, terrified you would fall. The next time he
*requested* my... personal services I said 'no'. After that events just seemed to
spiral out of control and I wasn't surprised when I found myself siting on top of
a car bomb."

Mulder unfolded his arms and placed his hands flat on the table. Now the initial
shock had worn off he could understand how someone... how Alex... could get
suckered into a relationship with that man but he wasn't ready to deal with it.
He needed time to think. He closed his eyes to shut out the pleading green eyes
but opened them again quickly. Mulder leant forward.

"Okay. This is something we're gonna have to talk about... another time... but
you still haven't explained why these look alikes have disappeared."

Krycek's eyes dropped to the table top, finding his hands far too interesting. He
licked suddenly dry lips and cleared his throat before looking back up. His voice
was so soft Mulder had to strain to hear the words above the sound of the juke
box.

"He wants me back."

"He... what?" His eyes opened wide in confusion, capturing his lover's. Krycek
swallowed hard, cleared his throat again and then repeated the words more firmly.

"He wants me back. He wants me to go back to him."

Mulder frowned, wondering how Alex could make such a connection, suddenly aware
that there was something else Alex had not told him. He was about to ask when
that final scene at BioTechnics with Cancer Man took on a whole new light....

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

"Oh, I think you know, Alex. Don't tell me you haven't told Mr Mulder about our
'relationship'"

"We have no relationship."

"Don't we?"

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Mulder remembered being confused by the interplay between his new lover and his
old enemy. At the time he had wondered what game Cancer Man was playing, wondered
whether Alex was more than just a subordinate. The Consortium had seemed so...
incestuous. He had considered the possibility that Alex was related to the
Smoking Man, biologically, and had intended to ask later but events had spiralled
out of control. At the time he had tried to defuse the situation by addressing
the clones whose weapons were trained on him and Alex but it was Cancer Man who
had replied.....

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

"So which one of you is the real Martha Hudson?"

"Neither. She outlived her usefulness... just as you have outlived yours...
unless Alex can persuade me otherwise."

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

He closed his eyes, sick to the stomach as the thought of Alex in that bastard's
arms filled him with disgust. Disgust at Alex for ever having been so naive;
disgust at Cancer Man for taking advantage of an idealistic young man... and
disgust at himself for having something else in common with *that* man. As much
as he needed to deny it, they both wanted Alex Krycek and, if Alex was right,
then Cancer Man was involved in these disappearances... but would the older man
be willing to kill for what he wanted? A thought flashed through his head like
lightning, stunning him. Would *he* be willing to kill for Alex? The iciness that
stabbed at his heart at the start of this revelation thawed. Yes. He'd kill for
Alex; he would *die* for Alex.

With his mind no longer clouded by anger the answer to his original question
became apparent. These men *had* paid the price for looking like Alexei Krycek
but as substitutes rather than as the result of mistaken identity. Only one
question remained. Why did these men disappear? Perhaps they became the Smoker's
companion... until he grew bored with them or until he resented the fact that
they were not his Alex. Mulder had no illusion as to what had become of them once
the Smoker had grown tired of them. He was not the type of person to leave
himself open to personal attack or blackmail. It seemed Cancer Man might have a
lot more blood on his hands than Mulder had previously assumed but there was only
one way to find out. Somehow, he had to find enough evidence so he could confront
the man.

Another thought occurred. Michael Anacek disappeared just over a week ago; maybe
he was still alive. But where should they start looking for him? Only one man of
Mulder's acquaintance seemed to have an inside track on Cancer Man but Mulder was
still uncertain whether he could place his trust in AD Walter Skinner.

Mulder glanced at his watch. It was well after midnight and he was expected back
in the office in less than six hours. He reached out and placed his hand on top
of Alex's. His body burned at the sight of that angelic face but the image of
Cancer Man and Alex writhing together in sexual abandonment dampened the flame.

"I have to go. We *will* work it out, Alex. I'm positive. I just need time to
think things through." After taking a quick glance around the bar to ensure
no-one was watching, Mulder leant forward and placed a chaste kiss on the bowed
lips. "Sit tight for a couple of days while I figure things out. I'll be in
touch."

Mulder pulled on his coat and walked away, glancing back only once as he closed
the door behind him. Krycek sighed and took another sip from the glass placed in
front of him. He let his forehead drop onto his raised palms.

"At least he didn't shoot me on the spot."

His head came up fast as a bulky figure slid into the seat recently vacated by
Mulder. Green eyes widened as they took in the square-jawed features of the alien
morph. Trigger fast reactions took over as he swept the remainder of the beer
into the creature's face, using the momentary blindness to make his escape. The
morph came hurtling after him but Krycek grabbed one of the bar's customers and
threw the man into the alien's path, hearing the curses and thump of a heavy body
landing awkwardly behind him. His action bought him enough time to reach and
start the bike. Moments later he was racing away at top speed. As soon as he had
put some distance between them Alex pulled up. Abandoning the bike, he broke into
the nearest car, jimmied the starter and was moving off at the fastest possible
speed that would not draw unwelcome attention. Eventually, he turned onto the
interstate heading northwards towards New York where he would lie low for a few
days.

********************

The Bounty Hunter brushed dirt from his suit as he watched the red tail lights
receding for the second time but, this time, he had come prepared, not willing to
take any chances with this particular human. He climbed into the dark sedan and
activated the tracker. A small red blip highlighted Krycek's position through the
tracking bug placed under the pillion on the bike.

He frowned when he noticed the bike had remained stationary for several minutes.
Moments later he turned a corner and found the abandoned bike. A smile broke
across the normally bland face as the Hunter offered his silent respects to his
cunning prey. As he walked back to his car the morph decided it was time to
change the game plan. He had tried to keep clear of Fox Mulder, being under
orders not to kill the son of William Mulder but that did not mean he could not
hurt him a little.

********************

Monday Morning 
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC

Mulder spent most of Monday morning expecting to be hauled into either Kersh or
Skinner's office; had spent the whole of the previous day preparing a speech just
for the occasion but, now, he was starting to relax.

//Relax? If I read any more of these reports I'll be so damn relaxed they'll have
to call the Paramedics to check I'm still breathing.//

He started to make a paper aeroplane out of one of the many staff circulars that
kept appearing on his desk having previously tossed the sheet aside in contempt.

"Scully? Do I look like the kind of guy who needs 'Assertiveness' training?"

Scully unfolded the paper airplane that landed on her desk and speed-read the
article. She raised both eyebrows, scrunched up the paper and dropped it into her
'dead' file. A small sign of activity brought her head back up and she began to
hum a few bars from her favourite sitcom 'Friends' as AD Kersh sauntered into the
bullpen. Mulder took notice of their prearranged signal. He piled a few files
over the top of the papers on his desk to hide the list of names and addresses
that he had printed out earlier and picked up one of those boring reports,
pretending that he had been engrossed in the latest acquisition request from some
Tennessee farmer. His eyes widened in pleasure as he read the address, hardly
believing his luck as his eidetic memory tagged the town name as being the same
as that of the first victim.

"Hey, Scully. Check it out." He passed over the file. "I think we should pay Mr
Markham a visit."

Scully frowned, wondering whether Mulder actually meant what he was saying - or
whether it was just a show for their new boss who had just come into earshot. She
handed back the file noncommittally.

"Something, Agents?"

Mulder looked up, almost in surprise as the smooth, chocolatey voice drifted over
his shoulder. He knew AD Kersh was in the room but he hadn't expected the man to
come so close. He certainly hadn't meant for his remark to be overheard. He
looked up into dark, uncompromising eyes.

"Uh... yes. Mr Markham has made several purchases over the past..." He flicked
through the report. "...seven months. More than I would deem necessary for the
size of the farm. It might be worth a visit."

Kersh took the file from Mulder and scanned the top sheet. His lips pursed and he
nodded his head slowly. It wasn't an exceptional amount but...

"Okay. Get onto it. I'll expect a full report this time tomorrow."

Mulder barely restrained himself from showing his surprise but, not being one to
look a gift-horse in the mouth, he picked up the phone and started placing some
calls.

********************

Markham Farm 
Near Jackson, Tennessee

The slight breeze ruffled his hair as he stepped from the rental. Dana Scully
looked across at her partner noticing the way his eyes were drawn to the fields
of Timothy grass surrounding them. Thoughts of a similar field standing tall with
ripening corn filled her mind but the farmhouse behind them bore no resemblance
to the domed structures at the centre of that particular field. She pushed a
stray lock of auburn hair back behind her ear.

"Mulder?"

He turned to face her, gradually losing that faraway look as hazel eyes locked
with blue. The screech of a screen door opening caught their attention and they
made their way towards the large-framed man dressed in faded blue jeans, white
cotton T-shirt and red/brown checked shirt who stood waiting for them on the
porch.

"Can I help you folks?"

"FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder... and this is my partner, Agent Dana Scully."

They both flashed their ID's waiting until the man had taken a good look before
snapping the small leather wallets closed and restoring them to inside pockets.
The man looked from one agent to the other in surprise.

"What can I do for you?"

Mulder put on his official smile.

"Just routine..."

One hour and several cups of coffee later they had learnt all there was to know
about the usage the chemicals were being put to and yet Mulder felt strangely
disturbed about... something. Something was not quite right; some answers
delivered too smoothly as if quoted from a script.

"Do you keep bees?"

"Pardon?"

Scully turned surprise-widened eyes to her tall partner. Her own confusion
matching that of the farmer.

"Bees. I noticed the jars on the side." Mulder indicated the row of neatly
labelled jars filled with a golden syrup.

"Sure, but if your wondering about those killer bees then don't. They haven't
been spotted this way... and I keep a close check on my queens, make sure no
foreigners get into the hive."

Scully raised an eyebrow, understanding Mulder's line of questioning but amazed
that he thought this small farm in the middle of nowhere could be linked to the
Colonists. She knew the farmer was referring to the aggressive African strain
that was gradually making its way north from South America where an accident had
set them free but could not prevent a shiver as she remembered the bees in the
white dome flying up through from the floor in a dense swarm... and her dash to
reach safety. She also remembered that it was a bee sting that had introduced the
Colonist DNA into her system. The memories following that incident were decidedly
hazy but... she looked up at her partner's profile in tenderness... Mulder had
not deserted her.

"If that's everything..."

Another official smile raised the corners of Mulder's lips.

"Sure." He turned away, heading for the door and then turned. "By the way, Mr
Markham. Have you heard of a Martin Leighton?"

"The Leighton boy? Yes. That boy was bad news. Got mixed up with the wrong
people. There was talk of drugs... of other unsavoury things. Then the boy just
upped and disappeared."

"Were there any rumours about where he could have gone?"

The man's face froze; mouth thinned, eyes hardened.

"Jeff Leighton's a good friend of mine. His boy and mine used to play together.
What that boy did broke his mother's heart."

"He's still listed as missing."

The Farmer paused as if debating something. Mulder watched the small war being
played behind the man's sky-blue eyes. A decision was made, the features relaxing
and Mulder knew he was about to learn something new.

"The night he disappeared old Frank Burrows spotted a fancy motor at the Griffin
Motel down the roads away. Said he spotted the Leighton boy at the motel about
the same time. Both motor and boy were gone by morning. Some round these parts
say it was some rich man enticing the Leighton boy back to the city with him."

Mulder's breath came faster. There was no mention of a Frank Burrows in the
Missing Person report.

"I'd like to talk to this Frank Burrows..."

"Can't. He died a few days later in the dangdest accident. Fell under the wheels
of a combine. Chewed him up and spat him out."

Mulder nodded his head, eyes closing in frustration. If what he suspected was
true then it had been no accident. Cancer Man had tried to be as thorough as
ever, leaving no witnesses behind.

"Did he say anything else? Description of the car? The occupants?"

"He didn't see the man except from a distance. Older guy. Heavy smoker. That's
all."

Mulder's eyes narrowed slightly. He could tell from the way Markham's eyes
shifted that there was more.

"Sir, is there anything else you want to tell me?"

Markham opened his mouth then shut it quickly. He debated whether it would be
wise to mention the strange activity occurring barely ten miles north of the
farm; the unusual choice of Corn as a main crop; the black helicopters that
sometimes flew over the farmhouse in the middle of the night. The official stance
was it was some kind of research facility working on GM methods. Manipulating the
genetics of foodstuff seemed all the rage these days and he'd heard strange tales
of introducing fish DNA into tomatoes to preserve firmness. The Leighton boy had
disappeared a few months after the strangers started to appear at the local
motel. It was common knowledge that the owner of that fancy car had stayed at the
motel several times... and the Leighton boy had been there *every* time... but
no-one dared say that out loud. Even the Leighton's had become close-mouthed on
the subject after someone had approached the Bank regarding Leighton's sizeable
debt. Life around here was tough enough without having to worry about the Bank
foreclosing on you.

"Nope. There's nothing more I can tell you."

"Thank you, Mr Markham."

"Sure thing."

Mulder drove several miles before pulling off the road. Ahead of them was the
small town where Martin Leighton had gone to school, taken his first hit; where
he had probably found his first client to help pay for his drug habit. The small
motel where he had last been seen was several miles beyond. Mulder wondered
whether they had any vacancies this night.

********************

Griffin Motel 
Near Jackson, Tennessee

For the second night Mulder found himself alone in bed and he hated it... and
then he hated himself for being so needful. How *had* Alexei Krycek become so
important to him so fast? It was not that long ago that he thought he hated the
man's guts... had sworn he would find something to ensure Krycek was put away for
life. During those long weeks when he had remained uncertain as to Alex's fate at
the hands of the Rebel Aliens he had spent many a night staring up at the ceiling
trying to pinpoint the exact moment when hate had turned to love only to realise
that it had *always* been love. He'd fallen for the geeky, green rookie with his
slicked back hair and cheap suits. He had basked in the adoration he had found in
those stormy-green eyes, letting down his guard in face of the innocence he
thought was in front of him and Krycek had seeped through his lowered defences
gradually entwining himself around his heart, invading his thoughts and his
dreams. It was the seeming betrayal that had smothered that fledgling love with
hate and it was the truth, finally offered... finally believed, that had banished
the hatred revealing the emotions buried so deeply, offering those emotions up to
the light. Yet still this did not explain the depth of emotion he felt for the
other man. It did not explain why he missed Alex with every fibre of his being.

His hand reached out to stroke the mattress beside him. Fingers met cold sheets
and he sighed as he visualised the strong, warm body that had lain beside him
these past few weeks. His photographic mind provided images; thick, sable hair
framing a face softened in sleep, sweet lips parted showing a hint of perfect,
white teeth... dark eyelashes flickering as the quicksilver mind was captured by
a dream. Sometimes he would lie there wondering where those dreams had taken his
lover, more so when those dreams turned to nightmares. On those occasions he
would pull Alex into his arms, stroking the fear-soaked skin, soothing his lover
with a litany of softly spoken words until Alex slept peacefully once more.

Eventually he slept but his own dreams mirrored the fears of his waking life.
Twisting, dark corridors... hazy shapes squirming inside long dead corpses...
bony, clawed fingers reaching out to grab at his clothes as he scrabbled past. He
was searching, frantically. Faces he knew floated out of the darkness and he
hesitated. Some were enemies, others friends but none were the face he was
seeking. He saw Scully, her eyes frozen open in disbelief and he paused, torn
between his love for her and his need to find another. A sensation brought his
head around and, for a moment he thought he could make out the fine-boned
features.

//Alex?... Alex?..// "Alex... Alex.... Alex!"

His voice became louder as the fear grew. He began to thrash as unseen hands
grabbed at him, smothering him and then...

"Ssshh... sshhh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

Mulder's heavy eyelids opened. He blinked several times until he was certain the
face barely a few inches above his own was the face he needed to see.

"Alex?"

A glint of white teeth in the semi-darkness and the caress of warm fingers
carding through his sweat-soaked hair.

"That was a doozy of a nightmare, Mulder. Wanna tell me about it?"

Mulder ignored the husky voice whispering close by, concentrating instead upon
the warm breath upon his face. He sat up quickly, nearly head-butting Alex in his
haste, the sheet falling to his lap.

"What are you doing here?"

"I-I needed to see you."

"Alex, we agreed it wasn't safe for you.