Work Text:
Dress up 9: Death Becomes Her
by peja
Skinner moved across the room, scooping up Lexi as she swooned in Mulder's arms. "Where's the bedroom?"
"A...lady doesn't invite a gentleman," she broke off, letting her head fall against Skinner's broad shoulder. "Under the circumstance, however..." She waved a languid hand in the direction of the hallway.
Skinner carried her down the hall and through the open bedroom doorway with Mulder dogging his footsteps. He paused halfway into the room, shocked by the Christian icons scattered sparsely about. Questions filling his hazel gaze, he sought out Lexi's slumberous, amused green one.
"I'm Russian, Mulder. Russian Orthodox," she said simply and, smiling a little sadly, reached slowly around to the zipper at her side, stripping away the gown to reveal a tightly drawn corset.
"How the hell do you breathe in that?" slipped past Mulder's lips before his brain could engage.
"A lady does what a lady needs to do." Lexi leaned over, careful to keep her balance with a hand on Walter's arm as the pills drew her closer and closer to sleep, and draped the gown over the chair near the bed before answering. She met Skinner's dark chocolate gaze and smiled again. "I won't need you any more. Thank you for..." She shrugged, then bent and pulled back the coverlet and settled on the bed. "You can wait if you want. It shouldn't be too much longer." Her lips curved again as she looked past Skinner to Mulder. "Take care of him, Skinner. He has a knack for getting into trouble."
Skinner smiled at that, nodding. "He does at that."
Lexi picked up the prayer beads that had gone unnoticed on the bedside table and settled more comfortably into the softness of the bed. "I...I love him, you know?" she murmured softly, the words meant only for Skinner.
"What?" Skinner studied the man...woman who refused to return his gaze, instead staring at the beads she rolled between her fingers, her lips moving silently as she devoted what time she had left in prayer.
Knowing she wouldn't expand on that statement, Walter moved to Mulder's side, giving her a few moments privacy.
"How long are we going to let this play out?" Mulder hissed, his gaze resting narrowly on Krycek.
Skinner followed his gaze and grunted. "All in good time." He grasped Mulder's elbow and led the younger agent out of the bedroom. "I want to see just how far he's going to play us along."
Mulder dared a shaking hand through his hair. "I don't know, sir," he said softly. "Krycek had to have swallowed a dozen pills before I scattered them. He...she..he.." Mulder shrugged his confusion away. "Krycek hasn't asked us to leave, in fact he invited us to remain until we could confirm the suicide. Seems pretty determined to follow through."
Skinner arched a brow. "Yeah, right." Shaking his head, he moved into the kitchen, pouring himself another coffee.
Mulder followed him in, shaking his head no to the silent offer of a second cup.
Skinner drew up a soft cushioned chair and seated himself at the table, leaning back to study Mulder over the rim of his cup. "Relax, Mulder. Krycek is a survivor. Last thing he's about to do is off himself. Any minute now he's going to spring his scam and try an escape. Mark my words."
Mulder didn't answer him, pacing back and forth as Skinner sipped his coffee, becoming more and more agitated as the seconds ticked into minutes.
"I can't take this any longer." Mulder snarled at length. Whirling on his heel, he sprinted back to the bedroom.
"Jesus," his voice, tinged with panic, screamed through the cabin, propelling Skinner out of his relaxed slump. "Walter get the first aid kit out of the car."
Walter dashed to the bedroom in time to see Mulder ripping the plastic bag off a semi-conscious Krycek's head and pull the liquid-boned man upright.
How could he have misread the situation so completely, tore at his heels as he dashed to get the requested kit.
TBC, if anyone's still reading this