RATales Archive

Aequi Iniqui

by Megan M. Jones

I finally got one good enough to post to the list! Bear with me though, I'm not the best writer.... ;)

Title: Aequi Iniqui
Author: Megan M. Jones or Megs, either or :)
Spoilers: Umm...there's little ones for Gethsemane, Redux, and Redux II but I'm sure that will change...so just expect everything up to...hmmm...how about S.R. 819?
Category: S, R (well...it'll get there) and hopefully A later on
Keywords: Scully/Krycek UST (for now...)
Archive: Ratales and anywhere else, just tell me first though :)
Summary: Scully comes home late one night and is in for a big surprise... (so sue me, I'm bad at writing summaries...)
Disclaimer: Scully, Krycek, and any other XF names to come are not mine and they belong to the almight ::coughs:: (yeah right) Carter, Fox, and 1013 productions. I'm just borrowing them for a bit because trust me, if I owned them I'd be doing much more than just writing about them <eg>
Author's Notes: First off I'd like to say to Jean F. on the list that after reading your next part to Necessary Evil all I could think about was 'great minds think alike.' You'll get why after you read this <g>.
Dedications: To my wonderful beta, Andrea, for putting up with my bad punctuation ;) to Jazz for encouraging me to post this, and to Mare for the countless number of great conversations you've given me. :) And of course I can't forget the rest of this list. Where would I be without you guys? :)

Oh yeah one more thing. Terma did happen, but you'll see that he has fully functional use of both hands (well not really clearly but he *does* have both arms at the moment)

Ok...I think I've covered everything <g>.

Georgetown, Maryland 3:04 AM

He sat in her apartment, hiding; waiting. Moonlight shone palely through the small cracks in the blinds, slightly illuminating his handsome features. Outside in the parking lot, a car door slammed, the sound echoing off of the other nearby apartment complexes. His body began to tense in anticipation. Tonight he would get to touch her, to see her in person and not just through a TV screen all cramped up in some van stuck on surveillance detail.

The abrupt sound of keys being shoved into the lock of her door caught his attention and he got into position. He flattened himself against the wall just as the door swung open. For a moment his eyes flinched, trying to adjust to the sudden onslaught of pale, fluorescent light as it emanated eerily in from the hallway. Slowly, she walked in, her usually confident composure replaced with a deep and drooping posture. The look on her face suggested that she was tired. Dead tired by the way her eyelids only seemed to be half open.

He watched as the door closed behind her, and she moved towards the couch where she mindlessly went through her usual routine of unloading all her things onto the sofa. He made a mental note of everything she dropped: her trench coat, gun, cell phone, badge; everything that posed a potential problem to him at this point could be found there. The one step she left out though, was turning on the lights which was fine with him. It just gave him another advantage and over all made things much easier. He didn't feel like fighting with her tonight... at least not physically.

She had just barely walked past him when he swiftly moved in, like a pack of hungry wolves for the kill. His trained, experienced movements caught her off guard as he clamped a hand over her mouth. The milky flesh of her face stood out greatly in contrast against the almond tint of his own hand. Her breath began to quicken against him and he could feel her eyes widening and her fear mounting. She froze right where she was, causing a small smile to form on his face. He liked it when he was the one in control, especially when the control he had was over a certain, attractive, redheaded FBI agent.

"Don't make a sound," he said softly, his voice low and raspy, while pulling out and gently pressing the barrel of his untraceable Sig Sauer against her left temple. "I only want to talk with you." By now the grip on her face had loosened considerably so that his fingers were feather-light against her lips. They lingered there for an extra second before he pulled them away entirely.

She wrenched herself away from him as soon as he let go of her and spun around, trying to put some distance between herself and the unknown attacker. For a moment she studied him, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She was trying to figure out what he had come for and if there was a way she could get past him to her gun when a minor detail about him caught her attention: his breathing. Everything seemed to fall into place once she had noticed, though. The small, even intakes of breath that were barely audible were too controlled and too self restrained to belong to a normal person. By now some psychotic would have adrenaline flowing out of his ears and his breathing would definitely not sound like he had been in front of the TV all day long. No, this man wasn't just anyone. There was only one person that she knew of that had such self-disciplined control over himself and he was the very *last* person she wanted to see.

"What do you want, Krycek?" She demanded, her voice harsh and bitter. His mouth twisted up into an amused smile, even though he could already feel her icy glare settling upon him. It hadn't taken her long to figure out who it was. He couldn't even credit Mulder with being that quick or talented. The fact that they had once known each other on several other personal levels, and not just as enemies might have had something to do with it, but she was a smart person. She would have gotten it eventually whether they shared a past or not.

When he didn't answer her, she took another step away from him. The silence unnerved her. *He* unnerved her. There was no reason for him to be in her apartment, waiting for her to return. The longer he stayed silent like that the more uneasy she grew and as a result took another step backwards into a spot where the moonlight spilled through the open blinds.

The light she stepped into hit her fully on one side shading half of her face while illustrating the other. Her pale skin gleamed in the ivory beams, no longer looking like the flesh of a human face, but of that of a beautifully crafted porcelain doll.

Slowly, he reached his hand out, afraid that he would feel the touch of fine china instead of the smooth feel of her face. To his relief, he felt the warmth of her skin, which still surprised him. So many times he had wondered if she was indeed made out of ice or if she was even warm to the touch. He knew she still was, he could feel that she still was, which sparked a certain desire within him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered while stepping even closer to her. She stood where she was, stunned, almost rooted to the spot. No man had uttered those words to her in... god it had been years. She contemplated the thought until she came up with the last person that had told her she was beautiful. It was him, and now he was telling it to her again.

Before she could get a grasp on the situation he took a step closer and placed his fingertips on her cheek. They gently began to caress her skin then moved up to her hair, and began to lightly finger it. How long had it been since he'd done that? How long had it been since *she* had just touched him, and it didn't count when he was in their custody. <When I was hospitalized because of my cancer.> She realized. <God, has it really been that long?>

She closed her eyes and swallowed. It was as if nothing had ever happened. His touch hadn't changed; he still caressed her with the same tenderness that he always possessed when with her. The feel of his fingertips on her was the same, even the exhilarating feeling he gave her was the same, if not stronger. <God he even smells the same,> she thought while inhaling his soft masculine scent that was a mixture of a light aftershave and the cheap, ivory hotel soap he always used from day to day.

She suddenly jerked herself away as if awakening from a deep, horrifying sleep. "Stop it," she ordered while backing away even more. He took a step that matched the one she'd taken back and moved forward, not wanting to break the contact he'd made with her. She took another one back and he once again matched hers. Neither said a word as they repeated the movements over and over against until she found herself trapped between him and a wall.

Her eyes darted nervously as his hand placed itself beside her on the wall and he leaned onto it. He brought the gun up to her side where he gently nudged her with it, just a little reminder that he was armed.

"What do you want?" she asked softly and for a brief moment he thought he saw a look of fear flicker through her eyes. <Impossible.> He told himself. <She has *never* been afraid of me.>

"I think you know," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. His breath fell soft and warm against her neck, creating a sensation that began to spread throughout her entire body. It felt warm, tingly, and so pleasant that she didn't want it to ever stop.

"I don't know what you're -" she began then abruptly let out a small gasp as his mouth sought out her neck. For a moment all she could think about were his teeth, gently nipping at her, his tongue, tasting her flesh, his mouth pressed against her skin. It had been so long since she'd felt this man do this to her. <Too long,> a tiny voice reminded her.

She tasted just as he'd remembered; salty, bittersweet, with a hint of something else that was all her own. He'd been with many women over the years. The art of seduction came easily with him, but every one he'd slept with he always found his thoughts wandering back to the woman in front of him. Just what did she possess that had captivated his mind so thoroughly that every time he saw her, he had to touch her, to taste her or else he felt like he'd go mad? He pushed those thoughts away. There were more important matters at hand that he had to deal with.

"Business," he whispered into her ear, pulling away from her neck a bit. "Dirty business." She watched as he pulled his head back enough so that he was looking into her eyes, monitoring her reactions. Her emotionless mask slipped back into place, not giving him any idea as to what was silently raging on inside of her. Anger, hurt, betrayal, desire, these things mercilessly hit her all at once, leaving her vulnerable and open to his sensual attacks.

"What do you want with me?" She questioned warily. If he was doing business, he usually went to Mulder. Him coming to her meant that it was something other than the usual government conspiracy rigamrole. Tonight he had brought her something out of the ordinary. <Like anything I ever get involved in is ordinary,> she thought bitterly. For once in her life she'd like to have something normal happen. Even if it was just remotely normal, it would be better than man-eating sewer monsters or sleeping with an assassin.

"You mean besides the obvious?" He replied, the tone of voice he used snapping her back into reality.

<Jesus, not only is he a murderer, a liar, a traitor, and out of his mind, he's also horny. What's next? Is he going to want to raid my cupboards as well?> She silently fumed.

"Not tonight, Krycek," she told him while pushing him away from her.

"What?" He said incredulously. She sighed and shook her head. Didn't he get it? Hadn't he gotten the hint when she hadn't responded to him the way she always did when he showed up? By now he should have known something was wrong. It took him a few moments, but it finally sunk in. She was pushing him away, not responding to him at all, he realized. There were no kisses from her, and by now they would have already been on their way to the bedroom.

"Not tonight and never, *ever* again." The harsh words echoed throughout his mind. She had just told him no. After all the years he'd just shown up and she received him warmly, now she was telling him no. What the hell was up with her?

"You don't really mean that," he whispered as he leaned in and prepared to kiss her once more. Her hands came up and gave him a violent, unexpected shove, and he stumbled back away from her.

"Yes, I do," she said forcefully, her tone cold, and without a hint of caring in it at all. "Just leave."

"What is wrong with you?" He demanded, beginning to get agitated with her.

"Nothing is wrong with me," she insisted while crossing her arms protectively over her chest. He tucked the gun inside the waistband of his pants, knowing that it was pointless to have it out. She knew he wouldn't use it on her, so why should he even bother? His own hands went to his hips and they stood stood there for a few minutes, trying to stare each other down.

"Why are you acting this way?" His voice softened a bit so he didn't sound as angry. He watched her eyes slip shut and she drew in a long breath.

It was a good sign for him.

"Because, Krycek, this can't go on anymore." Her voice took on a note of finality which would have made any normal man in a relationship begin to worry. Krycek didn't though. She was having conflicting emotions, he could see it in her eyes, which meant she wasn't too far gone from him.

"What can't?" He asked innocently. She glared at him, knowing that he could be anything *but* innocent.

"I'm going to tell you this once and then I want you to leave, got it?" He nodded his head noncommittally. She expected that much from him. He never said yes to a deal or anything that warranted an agreement unless he heard the entire thing through.

"I don't want you coming around here, showing up whenever you feel like it. This is not some brothel that you can walk in and out of as you please getting a quick fuck here or there, you got that? I am not here for your personal pleasures and I am certainly *not* here to help you out with any business you might have. I don't want anything to do with you from this night on. Do you understand?" She finished curtly.

"I understand that I've caught you at a bad time. It's late, we'll talk tomorrow morning," he replied calmly while walking away from her. He started taking everything off the couch until he came to her gun, which he tucked inside the waistband of his jeans along side the other one. After everything was cleared off he removed his shoes and stretched out against the sofa, trying to get comfortable even though his legs were hopelessly too long and dangled off the far end.

He let loose a yawn, as if proving his point that it was late.

"No, we won't. I want you out of here," she demanded angrily. "You should be thankful I'm letting you go instead of cuffing you and reading you your rights."

"You're telling me you're going to cuff a six foot one man who outweighs you by about eighty pounds without a gun?" He asked incredulously.

"What are you going to use, your looks?" She pursed her lips together in a thin, straight line, and continued glaring at him. Krycek making a point and being right about it angered her. It didn't just anger here, it made her seethe.

"But if you play your cards right, we can always go into your bedroom later and cuff each other," he told her, his voice dropping suggestively while his eyes raked over her body. "What do you say?" Her jaw clenched shut and her eyes turned to frozen chips of ice, the coldest he'd ever seen them.

"Fuck you, Krycek," she spat.

"Like I said, play your cards right..," he smiled at her frustration, which only seemed to feed her fury.

"Fine. Do what you want, but by the time I get up in the morning I expect you gone, you got me? Or else I will call Mulder down here to arrest you on the spot," she threatened. Krycek chuckled at her attempt to intimidate him. Did she really think she could call Mulder over there on him and get away with it?

"Yes, Tootsie," he mocked while settling into the couch even more. She sighed, exasperated and irritated, then turned around and headed to bed. The bedroom door slammed shut behind her and she leaned against it, shutting her eyes and willing her newfound pounding headache away. What was she going to do with him? After a few moments she realized that she wasn't weaponless.

She still had her spare gun in her dresser drawer.

She straightened up immediately and nearly ran over to her bureau, throwing open the top drawer and running her hand through it. <What the hell..,> she thought as she began to tear through it. <It's not here.> Closing the drawer, she reached into the second one, then the third one, and finally the fourth one.

"Bastard," she growled while slamming the last drawer shut. He'd taken her other gun. Fed up, she walked around to the other side of her bed and picked up the phone. Mindlessly, she began to punch in Mulder's number, too vexed with Krycek to think twice about it anymore.

"Come on, Mulder..," she urged quietly while waiting for it too ring.

Seconds went by and no sound came from the telephone. Her finger tapped the large button on the base of the phone once, twice, with no dial tone coming up either time.

"Damn it!" She cursed while slamming the phone down. <I'm going to kill him,> she fumed. <I don't know how and I don't know when but by the time I retire, I'm going to *kill* that son of a bitch.>

"Having trouble finding anything, Dana, dear?" He taunted from the other room. Her hand clenched into a fist while she made her way over to the door. She opened it a crack, just enough so that he'd be able to hear her clearly.

"It's *Scully*," she informed him coldly then banged the door shut. He laughed softly to himself while closing his eyes. She wouldn't be able to keep up the charade for very long. He knew her and he knew what she liked. There were certain weaknesses that she had, and he knew just what buttons to push with her. He gave her two weeks, at the most, before she broke down. <Oh yes, Dana Scully, you will,> he thought smugly. <And once I'm done with you, you'll be *begging* me to touch you.>

End Of Part One

So, what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Any constructive criticism? Be nice though ;) Send feedback, as you can see, I'm desperate! :)