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"I am myself indifferent honest; Red lights, grey morning And if you look, you look through me If I could stay then the night would give you up And if you listen I can't call If I could stay then the night would give you up Three o'clock in the morning Part One: Dirty Work Notes: One of the first rules of creative writing is: Write what you know. This makes it sound like I'm a lush, but I've spent a lot of time in bars. Actually I was only killing time waiting for my boyfriend to get off work (he worked in restaurants for many years). But I got to know bartenders and the kind of people (like me) who hang out with bartenders. So the brass thing is a bit of a jab at the typical "brass and fern" places. You know, like TGI Friday's, or Bennigan's, or your local "bar and grille". You get the idea. Later on I name one of the bartenders Kate works with "Bryce" after a good friend I used to know. He'll probably never read this, but if you're out there, Bryce, *wave*! He taught me everything I know about South Dakota. No, it didn't take long, but it helps when you're trying to make North Dakota realistic. Again, that gets important later on. Yes I know some veterans of the Gulf War, and yes, they do call it "Saudi" just like Alex does in this section. Kate dipped her rag into the polish and set to work on the dirty brass. At three o'clock in the afternoon, the Black Dog was dead as a church on Saturday night. She welcomed the mindless work after the usual lunch crowd, people packed in so tight it felt like a fallout shelter. Alex had pointed out that her natural ability to read people's thoughts would make her the perfect bartender. Having no other skills besides her police background, she took his advice. However, the thoughts of dozens of people in close proximity constantly strained her emotions. "How's it coming?" The voice of Tony, the owner of the Black Dog, interrupted her thoughts. "Just making the place all shiny for ya, boss," she replied without looking up. "That's why I like you, Murphy, you don't mind the dirty work," he complimented her. Kate considered the irony of his statement. Compared to her former career, not to mention life with Alex, she couldn't think of more honest work than polishing brass. When they first arrived in Seattle, Alex made good on his word to give her a fresh start. He used to work at the Black Dog so Tony accepted his reference happily. Now Kate Marcus lived as Kristine Murphy, or simply Murphy. She took to her new job well. Alex was right, she listened well. After the first week or so, even Tony realized she had a knack for saying just the right words to make someone feel better. She'd only begun settling into her new job, apartment, and identity when Alex left. She'd known for a while that he would, but it still came as a shock. She remembered the day vividly: not a cloud in the sky, the weather warm even for May. Out in the parking lot she watched Alex, his head under the hood of his Jeep, tinkering as always. He always seemed to be messing with it, one thing or another. She finally gave up asking what he was doing this time. It ran, that's all that mattered to her. "You'll take good care of it while I'm gone, right?" he asked suddenly, turning his head to look at her. His eyes bored into hers, piercing her to the bone. "Uh, yeah," she stuttered out. "Good." He stuck his head back under the hood. "Where are you going?" Alex paused. *You know I don't want to tell you this, but you will figure it out anyway,* he thought, and she heard every word. "There's an old friend I've been keeping in touch with. I thought I'd pay him a visit." Kate leaned down closer, putting her arms on the side of the Jeep. Quietly she asked, "Who is this friend?" "You're nosy today." When she didn't respond, Alex sighed. "I met him in Saudi. We served together." He pronounced it "Saw-dee" in a way Kate learned only veterans did. Like only veterans called Vietnam "Nam". "I thought Russia didn't have anything to do with...," she trailed off, then realized she was being stupid. Somehow she kept forgetting that everything she'd always assumed about the word wasn't necessarily true. Alex's back stiffened when she mentioned Russia. They both knew he hadn't said a word about where he was going. "Sorry," she apologized without explaining. "When are you leaving?" "Tonight." "Oh." She rubbed her hands on her arms, suddenly chilled. She could feel him dreading what he considered inevitable: she would ask to come along. "I'll miss you," she said. Alex stopped what he was doing to look at her again. "You don't want to tag along?" She ignored the mockery in his tone, though it stung. "I don't know." She shrugged. "I'm only beginning to get used to life here. Besides, you have your own work." She didn't mention the information from the files she helped unencrypt. But she knew that's what this was about: trying to find a buyer for classified government secrets. He looked at her for a long time, studying her face, wondering if she was playing games with him. "Okay," he finally said, apparently satisfied. "Okay." She turned to walk back to her apartment, too absorbed in her own shock to feel the regret pouring out of him. "Who's a guy got sleep with to get a drink around here?" Kate jumped, the unexpected voice jerking her out of her memories. She turned to find a man dressed in a suit, smiling despite his tone. Ordinarily the question would have angered her, but this man was her friend. "Jesus, O'Connor, you scared the crap out of me! What are you doing in here this time of day?" she asked, pouring him his usual beer. To honor his name, O'Connor looked like the stereotypical Irishman. He stood an inch or two taller than Kate, slightly overweight, with sandy brown hair and freckles. Not only that, his eyes proclaimed his heritage: they shone blue and twinkled when he laughed, which was often. "Came to celebrate," he briefly explained, then drank down half the glass in one gulp. "Better slow down. Have you even had lunch yet?" O'Connor hiccuped, then sat down. "You're right, as always. Get me a cheeseburger, will ya, Murph?" Amused, Kate glared at him and took his order. Then she sat down, grabbed a glass of ice water, and said, "Tell me everything." O'Connor smiled. He knew he'd find more than just a burger and a drink here. "We nailed Nash." "You are kidding me! The guy who was running guns to Canada?" "Thanks to you," O'Connor said, but frowned inwardly when he saw Kate flinch. "I mean it, if you hadn't given me that tip from that guy you overheard last week..." He shook his head. "Will you keep your voice down?" she asked in a loud whisper, glancing around. Sure, she "overheard" the man, but he hadn't said a thing outloud. Let O'Connor believe what he would, she didn't want to draw any attention to herself. "What are you so worried about? There's nobody else here," he told her, but spoke more softly anyhow. "Besides, I told you I protect my sources." He winked at her. Kate rolled her eyes. If she hadn't known better, she would think O'Connor wanted more from her than conversation. But he'd never been more than polite, and she didn't sense anything unwelcome about him. "You better watch out. If people figure out they get busted if they talk to me, forget about your snitch." "You're not a snitch, you're an informant." O'Connor just couldn't figure her out. She seemed to know a lot about law enforcement, but not just that, how police think. But whenever the topic came up, she somehow managed to avoid talking about her past jobs. Besides, he figured, if she had been a cop her boss would never have let her quit. "Big effing difference." "Hey, it makes a difference to me." He meant it honestly, and O'Connor hoped she believed him. "You're just happy you made the ATF look bad." "Can you blame me? Those, ah, losers have screwed up enough, they don't need my help to look bad." "Ah, the typical FBI superiority." Kate sniffed in the air, acting as snobby as the queen of England. O'Connor laughed out loud. "At least you sided with the good guys." A look he couldn't describe crossed her face, and he wondered what he said wrong. He tried to fix it. "Ok, here goes. In case I didn't make myself clear earlier. I appreciate your help, and you do make a difference." Kate smiled a tiny smile. "Thank you." "That's my girl." O'Connor took another sip of beer as Kate served up his lunch. She returned to her stool and began sneaking fries off his plate. He really liked the woman he called Murphy, and might have asked her out when they met several weeks ago. But he didn't get to be an FBI agent without picking up on hints, and he sensed her uncertainty. He wondered anyway, she never mentioned anyone, and he never saw her with another man. She kept him company while he ate. After he finished, she apologized for having work to do. "I don't mind, I'll just supervise," he offered jokingly. "Don't you have some girlfriend waiting for you at home? Isn't it Debbie this week?" she asked as she scrubbed the brass. O'Connor snorted. "Nah, she got sick of me working weekends. Some women just don't understand what law enforcement is like." He waited to see what Kate would say. "Uh huh." He tried a different approach. "What about you? Got any hot dates lined up for this weekend?" Kate scrubbed harder. "Not that I know of," she said tonelessly. Or did he sense a hint of disappointment? Dammit, he just couldn't let it go by like that. When he saw a mystery, he had to get to the bottom of it--that's what made him such a good agent. "Maybe I'm being a little forward, but did you have a bad breakup recently?" Kate stopped scrubbing and stared into the dirty brass. "I don't know," she said, unsure of herself. "What do you mean you don't know?" He laughed. "I'm not sure how things are in Murphy's world, but when I get dumped, I know it." "Are you sure?" The question set him back. He didn't answer right away. "I mean," she continued, "what if a relationship wasn't so cut and dried? What if you didn't know what was going on or if it was serious, or over, or, or, anything?" The last part came out sounding like a squeak. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this." "No, it's okay," he reassured her, missing the point of her discomfort. "I'm sorry things aren't going well." "I didn't say that. I meant it as a hypothetical question." *Sure you did,* O'Connor thought. "Oh, okay. Well I guess I could imagine something like that." *How did she ever meet this guy?* O'Connor wondered. *Whoever he is, he should know better than to treat a woman this way. Especially my friend. If I knew the guy I'd give him a piece of my mind, that's for sure.* Kate didn't catch every word but she understood O'Connor's anger at the man making her feel this way. *He's right,* she told herself. *I knew better. Alex Krycek is nothing but bad news. I knew that from the moment I met him. And now I have my own life and I can make my own decisions.* She sighed. If only it was that easy. O'Connor sipped his beer, giving Kate time to think. After a few minutes, she asked him about the gun-running case. They talked it over for a while, long enough that Kate hoped he would forget what she told him. She only heard vague concern coming from him, nothing specific. Checking his watch, O'Connor said, "Well, Murph, I better get going. It's been nice talking to you, as always." He turned to leave, then paused. On a whim, he added, "If you ever need to talk, about anything, I'm here, okay? As a friend," he added, and gave her his card with his home number written on the back. She tucked it in her back pocket. "Okay, O'Connor, congratulations again on the case. I'll probably see you this weekend, you're always welcome at my bar." He nodded, then headed out the door. After he left, Tony came over. "What was that all about?" he asked Kate. "Great news," she said, not sounding excited at all. "He just solved a case and wanted to celebrate." "You sure know how to keep the fuzz happy, I'll give you that, Murph," he said. "It's my job," she replied simply. *** Part Two: The Thin Line Notes: For clarity, I'm including a short explanation of the Russian terms in this section. "Bozhemoi" translates to "my God", and "Tovarisch" means "Comrade". If you listen closely, that's what Krycek calls Mulder in "Red and the Black". The subtitles say "my friend", I'm not sure if that translation is accurate. By the way, "Misha" is a nickname for "Mikhail" too. On with the show. Kate came home that night exhausted as always. A few regulars along with the normal crowd came in so her night wasn't a total loss. At least this job kept her around reasonably normal people. Working as a cop had nearly driven her insane, constantly exposed to the inner workings of criminals. Obviously she met a few deviants once in a while, but now she could turn them over to O'Connor. *And do my civic duty,* she thought sardonically. She sipped on a beer as she soaked in a hot bath. Sometimes the alcohol kept the dreams from invading her sleep. Despite her efforts, they only worsened over time. Tonight began the same as always: she'd sleep for a few hours, then the dreams came. She found herself in the now-familiar room, sun shining harshly through the window. Everything in the room was harsh: the furniture crafted of hard wood, the Oriental rug worn almost threadbare. She smelled the wax when the sun heated the wood floor, a chemical smell that made her want to sneeze. "Of course I see your side," the man said. His words, too, were harsh, in a language she'd slowly learned from the thoughts of the man whose life she dreamed. "I trust you, Aleksandr, it is the others I must convince," the man continued. "*Bozhemoi*, Misha, why do you think I came all this way? To talk about old times?" Alex Krycek asked. "The information is good. I risked my life to get it." *And what about mine?* she wondered amid the chaos of her dream. The man named Misha sighed. "All right, Aleksandr, I will speak to the others once more. But don't be surprised if they want more assurances." Kate's dream faded, and for a while she slept peacefully. But then the dreams started again. This time Alex waited in a cafe for Misha to arrive. He sipped tea and read the newspaper, never once betraying his impatience. At last Misha came with another man Alex hadn't met before. Misha introduced him as simply "The Doctor". They ate dinner and spoke of things Kate didn't understand, though she knew she should. She felt Alex's satisfaction as The Doctor agreed to take him to a place Kate knew only from the files she helped translate. The next thing Kate knew, morning had arrived. She shook her head to clear it of images of a train moving through the night, the smell of charcoal and forest. As she dressed, she found the card O'Connor gave her the day before still tucked in her jeans pocket. *How am I supposed to forget when I feel him, see through his eyes, every time I sleep?* She didn't know the answer. She considered the man Krycek met with in St. Petersburg. Alex called him "Misha", but his full name was Mikhail Artnzen. Sure enough, the two met in Saudi, but as usual, Krycek left out many details. He'd been relatively new to Special Forces and never expected he'd team up with a Russki. With a handful of others, they spread havoc throughout the mideast. Out of old prejudice an odd friendship grew between the two men. Misha changed over the years, but so had Krycek. Once a soldier, Tovarisch Mikhail Arntzen now sat behind a desk and directed others to spread havoc. Alex refused to see it, but Misha had become another dog of war, much like the men he hated in the Syndicate. Kate picked up on Alex's reluctance to deal with his onetime friend. Krycek knew better than to trust him, but Kate wondered just how much Misha wasn't telling. Right now Krycek worked to get his contact to trust the veracity of his information. Kate could feel his frustration, but Alex possessed a boundless supply of patience when it mattered. Often Kate heard Alex thinking of her as she dreamed. She hesitated to make any judgements, but he seemed to miss her too. Most of the time his mind stayed preoccupied with his mission. But if he was frustrated, lonely, or bored, which happened often, he thought of her. She felt only vague emotions; missing his country, the more familiar things, wishing she was nearby. With limited success she told herself not to dwell on it. Kate ate breakfast and began washing the dishes. She stared out the window at the beautiful summer day outside, dishes forgotten, hands itching as the soap dried on them. She had known she would miss Alex even before he left. But she never imagined she would follow him in her dreams. She remembered the night they shared in Salt Lake City. It seemed like years ago instead of just a few weeks. When he kissed her, touched her skin, something happened. They both felt it. Now she could feel him half a world away. Even during the day now, if Alex felt a strong emotion--anger, satisfaction, shock--she caught a glimpse. *How would I ever explain this to O'Connor?* she wondered. She doubted her friend would understand, even if he could comprehend the bond she shared with Alex. The men were so different: O'Connor so sure of right and wrong, Krycek walking the thin line between heaven and hell. Kate almost hated Alex sometimes, or hated herself for feeling the way she did about him. She told herself she only felt so strongly because he rescued her, if she could even call it that. He had been sent to kill her, then decided she was more valuable to him alive. She was bitter and she knew it. It was more than just lack of sleep. The Krycek she saw in her dreams showed little of the man she remembered. He was ruthless, driven, nearly obsessed. He didn't care about the money. He cared about power, control, revenge. Despite the unpleasant truth, she missed him, even painfully. She couldn't help but remember his humor, his unpredictable kindness, the peace she felt when he held her. She wondered if this is what a broken heart felt like. Half of hers was thousands of miles away. *** A few weeks later, working the bar, she caught the thoughts of a woman sitting in the shadows. Friday night kept her busy, as usual. Still, Kate's mind immediately latched on to this woman, although she sat across the room. She caught a name: Kallenchuk. The unmistakable feel of corruption, black and sticky, caught Kate's mind and held it like a trap. She hadn't felt anything like it since she worked as a cop in downtown Denver. "What's wrong?" O'Connor suddenly appeared in front of her. "I saw you zone out there for a second," he explained. "Oh, I'm just worn out," she replied. "I know that, why do I keep telling you to cut back on hours?" he scolded her. She dragged her eyes back to meet his. At first she considered telling him about the woman, Kallenchuk, but what would she tell him? Another group approached the bar and she had to leave O'Connor. As she mindlessly poured beer, she listened intently to Kallenchuk's thoughts. The woman waited for someone, a contact. When he sat down across from her, Kate sensed Kallenchuk's hand reach for her pistol. The woman wanted to kill this man, she could feel it. But he had information, something she could make money from. That took precedence. Kate's eyes grew wide as she overheard their conversation. He passed her an envelope with intelligence strikingly similar to the documents Krycek now possessed. Kate almost couldn't believe it. She thought she was crazy for believing half of what she read in Krycek's files, and this woman seemed to take it for granted. Kallenchuk rewarded the man with a large sum of money, and they left separately. Her first idea, again, was to tell O'Connor. But she knew even if he believed what Kate overheard, he couldn't understand the true nature of the information Kallenchuk purchased. Not only that, his superiors wouldn't take it seriously. O'Connor would look like a fool and she didn't want to do that to him. Her next thought, hard on the first, was about Alex. Maybe this woman would deal with him where Misha stalled. She shook herself. *What the hell am I thinking?* she scolded herself. *That woman is evil, and you want to set her up with Alex?* Reconsidering, she doubted Kallenchuk could be any worse than Mikhail Arntzen. Kate put it out of her mind as she worked the bar for the rest of the night. O'Connor showed up now and then when she had a free moment. He tried to cheer her up but she stayed distracted anyway. He didn't know what to make of it, and she didn't want to clue him in. After midnight or so he left with the thinning crowd, and she began cleaning up. *** I wasn't sure how much to post today, I've already spammed the list enough. :) If I post this then I have to post parts 4 and 5 (they go together) because there's no Alex in this part. So don't be surprised if your mailbox goes "ack!" because I dump half a 90K story in it. For those of you who like O'Connor in spite of the fact that he's not Alex, he will return. I felt kind of weird after I finished this chapter because I didn't want to introduce this character and then just drop him. But I'm working on the next chapter and sure enough, he's coming back. Just not for a while. I'll shut up now. *** Part Three: What's Fun She got home late that night and fell into bed exhausted once more. She dreamed: Alex returning to St. Petersburg, wanting more than ever to talk to Misha. She hoped against hope this meant he would return to her soon as well. She slept late Saturday morning, and woke to find the sun shining full in her face. She pulled on some socks and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Working her way through a bagel, she heard a loud knock at the door. "Who is it?" she called out, wondering who would visit her on a Saturday. "It's me, O'Connor." Her heart began thumping. To cover her shock, she threw back, "Am I under arrest?" O'Connor opened the door a crack and stuck his head in. "Are you going to let me in or not?" "Uh oh, that's trespassing, buddy, I'm going to have to write you up," she growled. O'Connor took that as an invitation. He bounced into her kitchen and sat down across from her. "You look like hell," he observed. "Thank you very much," she answered. "What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?" "I asked Tony," he said, as if that explained everything. Kate sighed. "If you want coffee, get it your damn self, I'm off duty," she said when she saw him eyeing her cup. He poured himself a mugful and sat down again. "You haven't answered my first question," she reminded him. "I know I didn't, I'm sorry. The truth is I'm worried about you." He was honestly concerned, she'd give him that. "Don't be." "Why not? I'm your friend, aren't I?" When she saw the pitiful look on his face, she nodded. "Yes, you are. My one and only real friend right now," she added, and his face lit up. "But that doesn't mean you can barge right in and ask me personal questions." "Why not?" he repeated. "That's what friends do." "Okay, you can ask, but I can't really talk about it." O'Connor knew a losing battle when he saw one. "Okay, if that's the way you feel about it. But please let me be a friend and help you take your mind off it, okay?" Kate eyed him suspiciously. "What does that mean?" "I dunno, we could go do something fun." She shook her head. "Sorry, I have to work tonight." "No you don't. I talked to Tony, he agreed with me. You need to take a break." Kate felt the tears welling up in her eyes, and tried desperately to hide them. She didn't understand why these people who hardly knew her, who didn't even know who she really was, cared so much. O'Connor saw the tears and realized, if anything, he underestimated her loneliness. *She doesn't even know she's that lonely,* he thought. *That's so sad.* Kate knew he was waiting for an answer. "You twisted my arm. The only thing is, I don't know what's fun around here." "Well, we could go to the zoo," he suggested. Kate laughed. "The zoo? What, are we in kindergarten?" "What do you mean? I love the zoo, it's not just for kids anymore," he quipped. "Okay," she yielded. "Let's go have fun." *** O'Connor watched Kate's face light up as they toured the zoo. At first she only followed him around, but soon he had to trot to keep up with her. "Oh! We have to see the hippos!" she exclaimed, or "Otters! I've never seen real live otters before!" She spent a good fifteen minutes just watching the polar bears swim. "Haven't you ever been to the zoo before?" he asked. "Of course I have, it's just been forever. I never realized how cool it is just to sit and watch all the different animals." "You like animals?" For a second a shadow crossed her face. "Yeah." "I have a dog." "Really?" She sized him up. "I can see that, you are a dog kind of guy." "What's that mean?" She shrugged. "You can tell a lot about a guy by what kind of pet they have." "What would you think if I had a boa constrictor?" "Well, I'd guess you liked to stand out from the crowd. And felt deficient in a certain area." O'Connor looked confused. "What do you--oh," he said as realization dawned. Kate hid her smile as her companion blushed. She didn't think he was that sensitive. "I'd like to meet your dog sometime," she said to take his mind off it. "I'm sure she'd like to meet you. Her name is Sandy." "Let me guess, she's a golden retriever." "Did the name give it away?" "A little. You seem like the kind of guy who would have a golden retriever." O'Connor cocked his head. "What does that say about me? Nothing bad I hope." "No, nothing bad. Just a little, um, ordinary. No, not in a bad way," she quickly reassured him. "Ordinary in a nice way, like homey, comfortable. That's what I mean." He smiled. "If that's what you mean, then thank you, Murph." "You're welcome." After they saw everything in the zoo twice, Kate plunked down on a park bench. "Is that all?" she asked. Grateful for the rest stop, O'Connor stretched his legs out next to her. "No, it just depends on what you feel like doing next." "I told you, I don't know what's fun." He thought for a few minutes. "I know what's fun." He stood up and held out his hand. "Where are we going?" "I'll tell you when we get there." Around dinnertime, Kate found herself at what looked like the state fairs she remembered from growing up in Oklahoma. "It's not much as theme parks go," O'Connor apologized. "But they have rides and games and best of all, cotton candy." "It's wonderful," she breathed, taking in the glowing lights. She didn't notice O'Connor watching her, his face suffused with happiness. They spent the warm summer evening stuffing themselves with junk food, throwing rings at Coke bottles, and riding the rides over and over again. O'Connor took in the sound of Kate's carefree laughter like a drowning man gulping down water. *I'd better be careful,* he thought, *I might be falling in love.* Kate enjoyed every minute of playing like a kid on Christmas morning. Somehow over the years of police work, she forgot how to play. She could sense O'Connor's delight just watching her relaxing and having fun. But inside, she didn't know how she felt about him. Sure, he was a friend, and a good one, but did she want anything more? Even thinking about it made her feel she was betraying Alex. After a day of fun Kate never imagined she'd enjoy, much less be capable of enjoying, O'Connor dropped her off at home. They had an awkward moment when it was time to say goodbye. Kate could tell he wanted to kiss her but thought it was a bad idea. So she just hugged him hard and thanked him for everything. He smiled, a little sadly, and waved goodbye. *** Part Four: Russian Dreams That night Kate dropped off to a peaceful sleep she stopped hoping for weeks ago. But inevitably, the dreams returned: St. Petersburg again. Weak afternoon sunlight fought through the clouds to light Misha's face. Rage boiled out of Alex, threatening to consume him. "Do you realize what is going on?" he nearly shouted at the other man, leaning over the desk. Misha steepled his hands, his face carved from stone. "Why should it surprise you, *tovarisch*? It is for the greater good." Taking several deep breaths, Alex tried to calm himself. "It's you. You ordered this." Misha smiled. "Of course I did. I did what must be done. You and I, we are the same, we understand what must be done. Was the war any different?" Alex shook his head, trying to push the knowledge of what he'd seen, what he'd done, out of his mind. "Or is it you who is different?" Misha asked. Eyes blazing, Alex glared at the other man. "No," he said flatly. "I know what must be done, *Tovarisch* Arntzen." "Good. We have a deal then." Kate woke up covered in sweat and shaking. She staggered to the bathroom for a glass of water and checked her watch: 1:51 a.m. "Goddammit, Alex, why do you do this to me?" she pleaded uselessly. *** Kate sat alone in the darkness. She tried sleeping but gave up hours ago. Her hands shook when she heard the key in the lock, the slow scrape as the bolt gave way. Alex Krycek stumbled in, throwing his bag on the floor. "Welcome back," she said softly. A few days ago she'd dreamed he was on his way home. All day she'd been distracted. The closer Alex came, the more she could feel his presence. Now he stood in her living room. "Kate? Is that you?" He closed the door and searched for the light. Kate reached over and turned on the lamp by her seat on the couch. She wondered what he saw in her face. Her emotions, chaotic and fierce, made it impossible for her to sense his feelings. She waited. Alex stretched. A wave of desire hit Kate as she watched his muscles twist and flex. He threw his jacket down beside his bag. "Watch where you put that, mister," she scolded him. "What are you doing up at one in the morning?" he asked, kicking off his shoes. "Couldn't sleep." He yawned, rubbing his eyes. "I could sleep for a week," he replied. "Okay." Kate searched for words. She didn't know what she wanted to do: tell him how much she missed him, yell at him for leaving her, throw herself into his arms and cry. Maybe all three at once. "Okay what?" He padded over and collapsed next to her on the couch. "Okay, sleep for a week, whatever." She sniffed. "Unless you would do me the honor of showering first." "Damn, girl, you haven't changed since I left." "What's that supposed to mean?" He started to say, "You're as bitchy as ever," but refrained. She heard it loud and clear. She couldn't argue, right now he had the right of it. Instead he told her, "It's nice to be back." "It's nice to have you back." "How've you been?" "Good." "Good." Alex looked at her, this time searching for meaning behind her brown eyes. She only smiled enigmatically. "I could use that shower, huh?" he said. As he took his time in the bathroom, Kate tossed his clothes in the washing machine. They smelled almost as bad as he did. *Don't they have laundry in Russia?* she wondered, picturing a babushka beating his clothes against a rock. She snickered. Kate reached out with her mind to see how his shower was coming, and immediately drew back. She suddenly remembered the motel room in Winslow, picking up on his fantasy of taking her in the shower. Only this time she was the Peeping Tom. Oh, but he was all warm and soapy...she shook herself out of it. *Down girl,* she reprimanded herself. *You hate him, remember?* She snorted. *Why can't I fall in love with a man I don't hate?* That hit her like a ton of bricks. *Oh, hell,* she thought, *the truth is a bitch.* She knew it was true. But that didn't make it any easier to deal with. It was one thing to know in the abstract, hear him thinking of her, and another thing completely to have him naked in her bathroom. She remembered the dreams she had of him spending hours, days, on a train. He would doze off, let his guard down, and imagine her. Sometimes just sitting in companionable silence, holding her, other times...she blushed just thinking about it. She left a pile of clean clothes outside the bathroom door, then went into the dark bedroom to sit on top of the covers. Her eyes adjusted to the dark so she could see by the watery moonlight filtering through the blinds. She heard the door open. "Hey Kate, do you...oh, thanks," he said as he found the clothes. She kept her back to the door. *Oh God, what do I do now?* As usual, she had no answer. He walked in the door, hair still damp from the shower. The t-shirt and shorts she left for him hung a little loose, he must have lost weight. Still, she drank up the sight of him, here, real, in her bedroom. How could she have forgotten the unbelievable pine green of his eyes? The arch and turn of his hands? The color of his skin? She felt herself redden. "I, uh, started the laundry," she said. "Thanks," he replied without taking his eyes off her. "Pretty rank, huh?" "Yeah." He sat down on the bed. She moved her feet to give him room. "Did you miss me?" For a moment she panicked, then reminded herself he had no way of knowing about her dreams. "Yeah." "How's work?" "Good." "Are you just going to sit there staring at me or what?" Her mouth went dry. She looked at her toes. "Sorry for staring." "What makes you think I'm complaining?" She could hear the mockery in his voice, so achingly familiar. She shook her head. He was insistent. "Look, if you don't mind, I'm going to sack out in the living room." *** Part Five: Even Better Than the Real Thing Yes we finally get to the sex. Certainly took long enough. :) This is my first smut post, EVER. I am so nervous! I hope it's not too embarassing...*sigh* For those of you who suffer (as I do) from Ratlust and are in severe withdrawal, I hope this keeps ya happy. No this isn't the last time you will see this type of stuff. For the rest of you (you know who you are :) who don't like the graphic stuff, you have been warned. And you really won't miss out on too much plot if you just skip this section. Without further ado, I present: "Wait," she hastily said. He looked at her expectantly. "Don't, I mean, you don't have to," she offered. He laughed, a dry, husky sound that made her tingle down to her bones. "I know you think I'm a gentleman, but I don't feel very gentlemanly right now. You'd be better off alone." She sat back, her head against the wall. "I know what I'm asking." Her heart pounded so loud in her ears, she didn't know how he could miss it. "Is that a fact?" He leaned in close, a hand on either side of her, pinning her. "Tell me what you want," he breathed, his face inches from hers. *Take me. Here. Now. Make all your fantasies about me real. Make me scream so loud they hear me back in Russia. Let me show you how much I missed every minute. Let me make you so crazy you'll never leave again.* A million thoughts whizzed through Kate's head, but she ignored them all. She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and found his mouth with her lips. Instantly his hands were in her hair, under her hips, pulling her down underneath him. He grabbed her wrists, pulling them over her head. She arched her back to meet him, then lost all coherent thought as his lips found her neck. Alex started right below her ear, nipping hard, almost fiercely. The feel of him, the smell of him, overwhelmed her. He let go of her wrists to reach under her shirt, and Kate took the opportunity to run her hands over his arms. Her hands went to his wrists, her fingernails tracing the way up to his elbows, scraping softly over his biceps, and on to grab his shoulders. She used the leverage to move underneath him, wrapping her legs around his hips. Alex groaned. Before she knew it, her shirt hit the floor and his mouth found her collarbone. He sneaked a hand up her side to cup her breast, rubbing his thumb over her hard nipple. She made incoherent noises, losing herself in the sensation. The warmth deep in her belly coursed through her, setting each nerve afire. She grabbed his hair, twining it through her fingers, pulling him closer. Next she reached for his shirt, snatching it over his head. He kissed her hard, panting, stroking her rhythmically with his tongue. He tasted so good, so good, like woodsmoke and...Alex. His hands moved from her hips up her back to hold her head gently in his palms. He pulled back a few inches, looking into her eyes. For a moment, she wondered if he would change his mind and push her away. But instead he caressed her jaw with his thumbs, just looking at her. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, the words sparking like lightning down her limbs, making her quiver. "Are you teasing me?" she asked, her brow furrowed. His eyes remained steady on hers. "No," he answered. "I just don't want to rush this." Kate's eyes shut as he kissed her gently on the mouth, slowly, languidly. She felt torn: she wanted him so much, but waiting might be even better. Alex laughed softly. "Are you laughing at me?" "No," he said, as serious as before. "I'm laughing because I hardly expected you to be awake, much less in bed with me, when I came home tonight." "Me neither." Alex considered asking what she meant exactly, but it didn't really matter. He continued to kiss her, moving down her throat to her breasts again. She sighed with pleasure. His hands continued down, caressing her waist, and slipped under her shorts. She gasped. He worked the last of her clothing off and laid her down beside him. For a long moment he simply looked at her, taking in the sheer beauty of her body gleaming in the moonlight. "Stop it, you're embarrassing me." "Believe me, Kate, you have nothing to be embarrassed about." His voice was breathless and throaty. She felt it deep inside. To prove his point, he ran his hands down her hip, her thigh, and began to work his way up the inside. She tensed, then relaxed into him. He moved in closer, kissing the underside of a breast. The sensations coursing through her were unbelievable: first she was hot, then shivering, then blazing hot again. When he eased her legs apart and found her center with his fingertips, she nearly screamed. Instead she bit her lip and squealed. He kissed his way down her ribs to her belly, nibbling on her navel. With one finger, he gently worked his way inside, finding her dripping wet. Still biting her lip, Kate flung her head back and forth, her hips arching to meet him. The ache inside seemed to grow and grow, demanding more. He found a rhythm, pressing the heel of his hand against her, stroking her deep inside. "I--Jesus--Alex," she gasped out. "Stop..." she groaned, and he froze. "I mean, don't stop, oh God, I need more, please..." Alex tried to find a coherent thought from the feelings her words evoked deep inside. He raised one eyebrow, his question unspoken. "It's alright, I'm taking birth control pills," she explained rationally. "You don't know where I've been," he argued. She shook her head, running her fingernails across his back. "Of course I do. You know you're clean, that's good enough for me, oh please say yes...I need to feel you inside me." Her admission, and the expectation of what was to come, nearly made Alex lose it right there. He buried his head in her shoulder. "You're sure," he mumbled. "Want me to prove it?" she gasped out. "Yes," he said, laughing softly at himself. She reached down as far as she could, trying to yank his underwear off. He helped her, then moved to cover her with his body. They both groaned when Kate arched her hips to meet him. The head of his cock touched her entrance, warm and soft and ready for him. She nodded, once. "Your wish is my command," he whispered. Then he slowly sank down, shaking with desire as she opened for him. He studied her face, concerned when he saw her flinch. "It's nothing," she reassured him. "It's just been a while, that's all." She wasn't lying, he could tell. She was tight, clenched around him, drawing him deeper inside. Kate could feel every inch of him stroking her in all the right places. *Too long,* she thought. *Why did he have to be gone so long?* He sank in to the hilt and lay still for a moment, content just to feel her wrapped around him. Alex heard her heart pounding out of her chest, stroked her skin lightly covered in sweat, glowing. He kissed her beneath her ear. "You are amazing," he said. "You going to stay there all night?" she asked impatiently. "Yeah," he teased, then relented. Braced above her, he began to move. She met him stroke for stroke, her hands running mindlessly across his back, reaching down to grab his ass. Kate lost herself in the sheer sensation of Alex's body moving with her, in her. She came frantically, biting his shoulder, his mind reeling as she squeezed him rhythmically. He gave her a moment, then asked, "Feel better now?" Out of breath she simply nodded. Alex picked up where he left off. Kate gripped him hard, gasping and moaning his name. Hearing her say his name like that, his much-abused control left him. He gave in to his desire, stroking her deeply, her cries urging him onward. When he felt her convulse once more, he let go. The spasms rocked him, leaving him spent and shaky. He rolled over, and she followed him, laying her head on his heaving chest. "Thank you, Alex," she said, and he laughed weakly. "What are you thanking me for? You rocked my world, woman," he answered. She smiled in the darkness. "Good." Kate got up to go to the bathroom and when she returned, Alex was already asleep. She shook him to get him off the covers and he groaned weakly. "You're cruel," he informed her as he got up to visit the bathroom himself. When he got back, he curled up around her and fell instantly asleep. Kate followed him soon after, smiling in her sleep. *** Part Six: From the Desk of... This one's short, and I'll leave you all in peace until tomorrow. Da svedaneya. "There, are you happy now?" Kerowyn asked Krycek as he finished reading the latest installment. "So what, she jumps me as soon as I get in the door?" "Got a problem with that?" Krycek shrugged. "Nope. So what are you going to put me through next? This O'Connor guy sounds like a setup to me." "You would say that," Kerowyn answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Krycek didn't respond. "Well, what would you do if you were writing the story?" He thought about it for a few minutes. Tapping the screen with his good hand, he said, "Well, I'd waste the Fed as soon as I found out. I mean, I am going to find out, aren't I? And what's with the dreams? Take away any shred of privacy I had. Damn good thing I didn't get laid in Russia, she'd rip my balls off." Kerowyn chuckled. "Nice image you got there." "I'll give you credit for the sex, but when do I get to waste somebody? I told you before, I'm not as nice as you make me out to be." "That's it, play it up big in public." Krycek looked ready to throttle Kerowyn. She loved doing this to him. "So that's all you care about, fucking and blowing people's brains out," she calmly stated. "Well if you put it that way..." "Methinks you doth protest to much," Kerowyn told him. "That's another thing. Hamlet? Puh-leez! I'm not some tortured Shakespearean hero, that's for damn sure." Ker smirked. "You think so, don't you?" he accused her. "Well, dammit, that's where I got the title, isn't it?" Krycek turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows. "See you again soon," Kerowyn called after him. He didn't answer. *** Part Seven: Morning Breath Kate woke the next morning to find herself tangled in the sheets and around Alex. Somehow through the night her head ended up on his arm, her leg thrown over his hip. His breath tickled the hair on top of her head. She couldn't imagine a better way to wake up. Apparently Alex couldn't either. Even though he slept on, oblivious, one particular part of him felt quite awake and aware of Kate. *So that's what morning wood feels like,* she thought to herself, amused. Trying to extricate herself proved more difficult than she expected. When she tried to unwrap herself from him, the unconscious Alex only pulled her closer. If she hadn't been sure he still slept, she would have thought he was doing it on purpose. She gave in. Besides, how often did she wake up to this? She watched him as he slept, feeling his breath tickle her hair, the rise and fall of his chest. His eyelids fluttered as he dreamed, and she admired his incredibly long, dark eyelashes. The morning sun lit the red highlights in his hair, bathed his face in golden light. She caught herself thinking how angelic he looked. *An angel asleep,* she thought, *but a demon awake.* As if to prove her point, he groaned in his sleep and pulled her against him. With an ache deep in her belly, she remembered every detail of their adventures the night before. She took in a deep breath. She didn't regret it, but she wondered what it would mean. Her fear surfaced--what if he didn't feel the same way about her? She resolved that no matter what happened, she could deal with it. Couldn't she? Alex relaxed his grip on her and turned over. She kissed him on top of his head and got up. She could feel his exhaustion so she let him sleep. Putting the clean clothes in the dryer, she realized she'd slept peacefully for the first time since he left. Not wanting to dwell on that knowledge, she went to the kitchen to make coffee. In the middle of her first cup, she heard a knock on the door: it must be O'Connor. He dropped by sometimes when he had a minute just to check on her. She opened the door and poked her head out. "Hey, Murphy, how are you this fine summer day?" O'Connor smiled at her. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" "Oh, hi, O'Connor, nice to see you," she replied, avoiding the question. "How's the case coming?" He shrugged. "Ran out of leads for now, so I'm heading back to HQ to catch up on paperwork." His unanswered question hung between them. Kate stepped outside and closed the door behind her. "Now's not a good time, okay?" she tried to placate him. O'Connor's Irish eyes twinkled. "He's in there, isn't he?" Kate jumped. "What are you talking about?" "The guy you aren't having a relationship with." "What makes you say that?" she snapped. "Don't get so defensive. I'm an investigator, I put clues together. You're practically screaming 'I've got a secret!', and besides, you can't stop smiling," he explained. Kate schooled her face to an even expression. "Well maybe I am, and maybe you're right, but it's none of your business." "It's okay, Murph. I'm just glad to see you smiling. I guess I'll let you get back to, ah, whatever you were doing." She searched for disappointment in his eyes but found only amusement. "I gotta get back to HQ. See you soon," he said and walked off. When she opened the door, she found Alex standing on the other side. "Who was that?" he growled. His tone shot straight to Kate's heart. "He's a friend." "He's a Fed," Alex accused her. "So?" She turned away. She didn't want him to see the pain in her eyes. A little part of her mind asked, How did he know O'Connor is FBI? "Well excuse me for wanting to stay out of prison." Amid her own emotions, Kate struggled to understand Alex's anger. Sure enough, underneath the rage and fear, he was jealous. Heartened, she decided a little payback was in order. "Damn, I was hoping I could surprise you. He said he'd forgive me for harboring a felon if I turned you in." She glared right back at him. Alex's hand clenched into a fist. "What, tough guy, you gonna hit me?" she taunted. He stared at his hand as if he'd never seen it before. "Sorry," he relented, but his tone stayed harsh. "I just don't like cops." She snorted laughter. "You seemed to last night," she teased. His eyes flew open. She had him there. "Are you sleeping with him?" Alex flung at her. "Just what kind of a woman do you think I am?" Hands on her hips, she stared him down. She could see a glimmer of uncertainty hiding in there somewhere. Alex considered making a comment, but went with the better part of valor and stayed silent. *Why else would she have gone to bed with me?* he wondered. Kate heard him regardless. "I told you he's just a friend. I met him at work. I'm allowed to have friends, aren't I?" *After you ditch me like a bad date,* she added, but didn't say it. He still looked uncomfortable so she tried to explain. "I didn't let him in because I wanted to give you your privacy. I knew he would make you uneasy, get it?" Alex nodded, emotions warring in his green eyes. Kate leaned forward and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He stiffened, but after a moment, kissed her back. "I missed you," she whispered. He didn't answer in words. Instead he pulled her closer, wrapping her in his strong arms as if he would never let her go. She sighed and leaned into him. He searched her face, brushing her hair back with a hand. "I wish...," he started, then fell silent. "What?" He shook his head. "I wish I could read you as easily as you read me." "Is that a question?" "Huh?" "You want to know how I feel." "I guess so." He wouldn't meet her eyes. Kate's throat knotted. It was one thing to pick up a stray thought or two from him, another to open her heart this way. "I don't regret what we did. Actually," she laughed huskily, "I can't stop thinking about it. And listen," she said, holding his face in her hands, "It meant a lot to me. I...I care about you." He looked in her eyes, searching. "Yeah," he replied softly. "I missed you too. But I wasn't um, expecting, well, you know." He looked positively embarrassed. Kate stifled a laugh. "I wasn't exactly planning on it either." "Oh yeah, you just happened to be taking the Pill?" She blushed profusely. "Okay, so I was hoping." They both laughed, releasing some of the tension. "You shouldn't be sneaking up on me like that anyway," she scolded him. "You're one to talk." Kate's heart stopped for a moment. *Does he know? About the dreams? How could he?* "It's your fault for thinking so loud," she accused him. A smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. "Ok, what am I thinking now?" He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, actively concentrating. When he opened one eye to peek, he saw Kate blushing again. "Here? On the kitchen table?" Alex grinned. "Why not?" She glared at him. "Morning breath, for one." "Hey, you kissed me first." "That was just to shut you up." She rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. He looked hurt. "And I thought you liked what I did with my mouth." "I didn't say I didn't, er, whatever, you know what I mean." "No, what do you mean?" He loved watching her squirm. "Oh shut up." "Make me." "Just to get that self-righteous smirk off your face," she mumbled as she kissed him. She yelped as he made good on his word, grabbing her and carrying her over to the kitchen table. *** "Nope, that didn't do it," Kate muttered. Alex felt a moment of panic. "What are you complaining about?" "You still have that shit-eating grin on your face." For a moment Alex couldn't figure out what she meant. Then he remembered how this whole thing started. "Can you blame me?" "Not really, I'm sure I look the same way." Alex grinned with white teeth. Kate fumbled around and finally came up with her watch. "Dammit, I have to get ready for work," she apologized. "Come back soon?" he asked, surprising her. She had to get used to the idea of him being around, not to mention him wanting her around. "Okay," she promised. *** Part Eight: One More Murder Kate kneeled on the floor, brass polish in one hand, rag in the other. Weeks ago Tony stopped trying to bribe people to do the dirty jobs. Kate enjoyed the manual labor: it gave her time to think. She sifted the events of the past weeks through her head like sand, searching for meaning. She'd always been a thinker, a planner, quiet but thoughtful. In that way she and Alex matched. Otherwise she gave up trying to understand relationship. Not that she was complaining. Having him around made her feel content with life, whatever may come. All too aware of his lifestyle, she enjoyed it while she had it. A part of her still felt guilty thinking of the crimes of the man she loved. She played no small part in his activities, either. Scrubbing away months of grime helped her push it out of her mind. She heard the door swing open and felt the familiar, yet troubled, emotions of her friend O'Connor. He stopped coming by her home soon after Alex returned. The FBI agent didn't miss a trick, she'd give him that. She clawed her way up to meet O'Connor at the bar. "Still scrubbing brass, eh, Murphy?" he asked as way of greeting. "Gives me time to think," she explained. Washing her hands in the bar sink, she wondered why O'Connor felt so uneasy. It wasn't like him to let his job get him down. Aware of his suspicions, she stayed quiet and waited for him to volunteer any information. "You had last night off, didn't you?" He sounded reluctant to bring it up, as if it took a great effort just to get the words out. She nodded, wiping her hands on a towel. "What's up?" O'Connor rubbed his face in one hand. "They found a guy in the alley." Kate didn't have to ask, her police experience filled in the details. "Murdered? Here? Why?" The Black Dog was anything but a dive, situated in a nice neighborhood with a clientele of young professionals. "Get me a beer, won't you?" he requested instead of answering her question. Kate could feel the emotions pouring out of him: anger, guilt, frustration. He wouldn't be covering the case, the local police would. Didn't mean he had to like it. He cashed in a few favors to learn the details, things he wouldn't have known otherwise. While he sipped the drink, Kate listened in. She never considered it an invasion of privacy. She didn't actively search his thoughts, just tried to pick up on the important details. Suddenly she dropped the rag she'd been holding. Bending down to get it, she hid the shock on her face from O'Connor. Since she knew her friend so well, she caught more than simple emotions, she could actually see what haunted his memories. What caught her attention made her stomach churn. The man found killed was the same man she saw with Kallenchuk before Alex came home. She had to know more. "O'Connor, could you tell me about the man they found? Do they have any leads?" O'Connor turned to look at her with sad eyes. "Nothing much so far. A name, if we can trust the ID we found on him." "Was it Siracusa?" He blinked a few times, not sure he could believe his ears. "Uh, yeah. How did you know that?" *Great, how do I cover this one?* she scolded herself. "He came in here a couple times. You know how I keep my ears open." O'Connor looked hopeful for the first time that day. "If you know anything, Murphy, it would help more than I can say." She shrugged. "He would come in, sit in the back like he was waiting for someone. I tried to steer clear of him, he wasn't selling anything I'm interested in. The only reason I know his name is from his bar tab." "Do you know anyone he might have, ah, angered?" O'Connor prodded. Kate paused. She felt the enormity of the decision she had to make. "I really can't say," she said, avoiding the question. O'Connor sighed deeply. "Is it okay if I come back and ask you some more questions? I mean, if we get any more leads?" "Of course, you know I'm always willing to help," she lied. *** Kate stomped around the house until Alex got sick of it and demanded she sit down and talk to him. She tried to brush him off. "It's just work." He waited patiently. His patience wore her down quicker than any demands he could have made. "Okay, I had to lie today. Not just a little lie, but a big whopper. And you know why?" She rounded on him. "To help you." Looking at him, her anger seeped away, leaving nothing but dust. "You haven't said anything, but I know things didn't go as well as you hoped in Russia." She chose her words carefully, unwilling to betray her secrets. Alex simply waited for her to continue. The look in his eyes, acceptance mixed with concern, made her melt. "A woman came in the bar about a month ago." She shook her head, trying to deny the enormity of what she was about to do. "I didn't want to tell you about her before, but I think she could help...I mean, she deals in the same sort of information you do." She could practically see Alex's ears perk up at that, and it only made her hate herself more. "Today I find out she killed the last guy who sold her information." At last Alex spoke up. "That's a chance we all have to take." "We? Who's we?" She jumped up and began pacing. "I'm not we. I mean, you do your thing and I have mine. We don't overlap." *Just who am I trying to convince?* she asked herself ruefully. She spun on her heel. "Her name is Kallenchuk," she spat out. "She doesn't live here, I think she deals out of San Francisco. Just don't get any more holes in your head, okay? I like your anatomy the way it is." Alex looked a little puzzled. "Slow down, Kate," he said softly. "I understand why you didn't tell me. Don't worry, Russia wasn't a complete loss." Hearing the words, knowing what she knew...he continually amazed her. She wondered how many men he had completely fooled over the course of his career. Kate returned to the topic. "Now you know." "Yeah, but it doesn't mean I'm going to bust down the door tonight and get myself dead." One simple sentence expressed so much. Kate knew his patience, but the sheer magnitude of his willpower made her flinch. His arrogance remained unspoken: he'd skip happily through a trap any other man would fall right into. In spite of herself, Kate thought it was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard. *What fools these mortals be,* she sighed inwardly. She collapsed on his lap, catching him off guard. It felt good to take a little control after everything she'd been through today. He put his arms around her, pinning her back to his chest. "Why do I do this for you?" she asked rhetorically. "It's my charm." She gave in and laughed. "I remember the last time you said that to me, on the road to Salt Lake City." "Do you believe me now?" She didn't expect the question, or the feeling of acceptance it brought. She remained quiet with her thoughts. "I'll take that as a yes," Alex said impudently. She could feel him smiling, his breath tickling the back of her neck. She elbowed him in the ribs, just hard enough for him to feel it. In response he nudged her braid away with his nose and kissed her neck. The simple act turned her into puddle, ready for him to do whatever he wanted with her, to her. "Your ego doesn't need any more help from me," she reasoned breathlessly. "It can't hurt," he whispered as his lips found her ear. *** Part Nine: High Noon in Hong Kong Notes: Yes, the Cantonese name for Hong Kong actually means "City of Flowers". Or is it Island? I forget. Something like that anyway. October in Seattle. *Where did the time go?* Kate wondered absentmindedly. She remembered coming here at the end of April, frightened and without a home. So much had changed, including the person she used to recognize in the mirror. Alex came and went as he pleased, sometimes telling her his plans, sometimes not. In her mind she followed him everywhere. Their bond only grew stronger as time passed. Sometimes she wondered when, or if, she'd ever tell him. She walked in the living room to find him pawing through a desk drawer. Kate announced, "This is new, you're leaving the country? I didn't think they let people like you just waltz in and out." He threw her a smirk. "Let 'em stop me," he bragged. She'd call him on it if she had a leg to stand on, but he was right. He held up a passport, one of several he kept handy. She caught varied thoughts from his mind: radiation burns, diesel oil, overtones of Kallenchuk. *Hong Kong, huh?* she thought, but didn't voice it. "Okay, I'll keep the home fires burning," she said. She thought nothing could surprise him anymore: she was wrong. "You will?" The question leaped from his lips before he had a chance to think about it. "Well, yeah. What else can I do?" Beneath all the arrogance, the posturing, he possessed the insecurity of a little boy. She wanted to convince him he could trust her, but she knew he wouldn't believe it. He had to figure it out on his own. He swept her up in a hug, kissing her hard. "I don't get you, Kate," he laughed. "And you know what? I like it." She only smiled, enjoying what she could before he left. Again. She felt absurdly grateful for their bond, at least she wouldn't be far. He left that night, promising to return as soon as he could. Kate wondered how soon the dreams would begin. *** Sure as the sunset, Kate dreamed. During the day she kept an awareness of Krycek in her mind, for reassurance more than anything. This was different. She saw a room, cluttered, lit only by the blazing neon from the signs outside. Sirens wailed, a woman screeched in the distance, men spoke in low tones outside the open window. She smelled smoke from the cooking fires in the street, the sweat of unwashed bodies, the reek of dead fish. Whoever named Hong Kong the "City of Flowers" must have been there on a good day. Gradually she became aware of Krycek, waiting in the shadows. He hadn't had a bath recently and his skin crawled. He adjusted his jacket, his gloved hand coming to rest reassuringly close to his loaded weapon. How long had he been there, waiting? Afraid the French government would get to her first? Personally he considered Jeraldine Kallenchuk a waste of ammo. But if she sold him out, there would be hell to pay. Absentmindedly he scratched his jaw. He hadn't had a chance to shave either. Suddenly a flare of light: the door kicked open. A tall man pushed a loudly objecting Kallenchuk inside and slammed the door behind him. Her wrist was cuffed to the other man's for some reason. As eyes adjusted Krycek's heart skipped a beat: Mulder got to her first. *Why doesd it always have to be Mulder? Rage swept through him, nearly overcame him. He stalked out of the shadows, pistol pointed at the agent's head. Mulder recognized him immediately. "Krycek. I thought guns were against the law here." "Yeah, well, you know what they say. When guns are outlawed..." He kept his eyes locked on Mulder's, anticipating his next move. His voice shook from too many emotions held in check too long. "Why don't you take that gun and shoot yourself in your head like you shot my father?" The accusation went through him like a knife, though his face showed none of it. Kallenchuk spoke up, out of fear or frustration, he couldn't tell. "Great. High Noon in Hong Kong." Krycek had enough. "Oh, why don't you just shut up!" he shouted, to Kallenchuk or Mulder, he wasn't sure. Did it matter? Alex grabbed Kallenchuk and forcibly shoved her out of the room, closing the door on the chain and trapping Mulder inside. They might not have noticed, but his trained ears heard footsteps in the hall. Sure enough, he heard the shots a moment later. Goodbye Kallenchuk. Mulder made some asinine comment about loyalty to his partner. Alex ignored him, heading for the window and escape. He stopped for a moment to consider his former partner at the FBI. "Looks like she's your partner now," he said, and leapt. *** Kate woke up, rubbing her eyes. She went through the now-familiar ritual to bring herself back to reality. She checked her watch: 2:42 am. With a sigh, she threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom and a glass of water. She'd never seen Mulder before. Every once in a while she'd catch a thought from Alex about the man he teamed up with at the Smoking Man's orders. Even Alex didn't quite know how he felt about the other man. Regret? Definitely. He'd never spoken of it, but Kate knew Mulder's accusation was accurate: Alex did kill Mulder's father. Incredibly, Alex felt more than regret. Rational or not, Krycek blamed Mulder, at least in part, for his current situation. The way she saw it, the Smoking Man screwed Mulder as much as he screwed Krycek. The Mulder and Alex were on the same side, whether they admitted it or not. But who was she to judge? Everything she knew came from Alex's experience. Kate returned to bed and eventually to sleep. She didn't dream again, but her mind blurred with impressions of running, hiding. *** Part Ten: Descent Notes: I kept thinking of Indiana Jones when I wrote this. Remember when he and Marian finally get out of Cairo on the boat, he's had a grueling day of kicking Nazi butt, and he's in horrible shape. All he can say is, "I feel terrible". Can't you just see Krycek feeling the same way after the oil thing? Read on and decide. The next day Kate went to work as always. If she was a little distracted, no one seemed to notice. Half her consciousness stayed with Alex, so far away, a stranger in a strange land. She breathed a sigh of relief when she knew he'd found the airport safely. *Soon,* she hoped. Before long the lunch patrons crowded the bar, keeping her too busy to track him. Kate heard a crash, then looked down to find glass shattered on the floor at her feet. The other bartender on duty hurried over. "Are you okay, Murphy?" he asked, concern lining his face. "Looks like you kind of zoned out there for a sec." "Oh, yeah, I don't know what I was thinking, Bryce," she replied. "Why don't you take a sec and get cleaned up? I can cover for you," he offered. Gratefully, Kate took him up on it. She splashed water on her face, then gazed sightlessly into the mirror. Gradually she pieced things together: Mulder finding Krycek at the airport, beating him, threatening to kill him, then...what? Nothing. She felt the emptiness rise up like bile in her throat to overwhelm her. She never noticed how much she depended on his presence until he was gone. Every minute of every day she heard Alex's thoughts somewhere in a corner of her brain. Now she felt only a gaping absence. Shaking, she slumped down the wall and put her head in her hands. *He's not dead, I would know if he was dead,* she thought. What should comfort her only increased her fear. She finished out the rest of the day somehow. The next day or two swept by, just trying to survive the aching loneliness. At last she felt something: a trickle, a bit leaking through here and there, but she knew immediately. Alex was back. *** He squatted on his heels in the darkness, arms clutching his knees, rocking back and forth, back and forth. Were his eyes open? He couldn't tell in the midnight blackness of his prison. He felt the crusted blood on his hands, dimly remembered beating the door, trying to tear down the walls, to escape somehow. His throat felt dry and raspy as if he'd been shouting. Amid a haze of pain he heard a noise. No, he'd been down here too long. How many times had he heard something only to find it was only his imagination? Then he looked up. The door was open--how? He heard a voice, couldn't place it, but the sound made his heart turn over in his chest. If this was a dream he never wanted to wake up. He gulped down cool water, soothing his abused throat. Arms wrapped around him, covering him like a blanket, warming him. He couldn't remember ever feeling warm before. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. He decided to go along with the dream, even if it meant he never woke up again. In a flash he woke up, his whole body tense as if a landmine went off not ten paces away. His eyes flew open, then quickly shut. The light--he barely remembered what it was like--it was so bright. "Shhh," he heard the voice from his dreams say. "Kate?" he croaked out, shocked at the sound of his own voice. "I'm here," she said. "You can relax. You're safe." Trusting the voice, he fell into a deep sleep. Blinking, he woke up a second time. He leaned forward, his head pounding. "I turned the lights off, I didn't want to hurt your eyes," he heard the voice say. "Thank you," he somehow got out. "Kate? Is that you?" "Yes, Alex, I found you. You're in North Dakota." A thousand questions formed in his head. He started with the basics. "How long?" Kate heard several questions from the few words he spoke. "You've been asleep for almost two days. I think you were down there for about eight hours, I'm not sure." Slowly returning to reality, Alex realized two things: he had to go to the bathroom and he really needed a drink of water. He slowly tried to get his limbs to work, but Kate had to help him up. He felt helpless as a child. He could barely walk. She got him to the bathroom safely and let him have his privacy. When he returned, she settled him on the bed again. His mouth tasted like a cat died in it. "I feel terrible." "I bet. Want a toothbrush?" He didn't even know how fuzzy his teeth felt until she said it. "Please." She helped him brush his teeth, twice, and rinse out his mouth afterwards. Maybe it was the light, but the toothbrush looked faintly gray when he finished. Come to think of it, his shirt felt slightly greasy as well. He felt memory returning and pushed it back. He had time, he would use it. He sat back again, looking down at his bandaged hands. Kate sat nearby, close but not confining. Waiting. To see what he would say, to see what he would ask. When he would ask. She didn't have long to wait. "How...?" he began, then stopped. She knew what he meant anyway. She'd known he would ask, pondered what she would say over the days she spent looking over him. Still, she felt unprepared. "About a week ago," she said, then paused. "I could tell something happened to you over there. Then a few days ago I knew you were trapped--there. I got here as quick as I could to get you out." She left so much out, she wondered if sounded coherent at all. "I feel terrible," he repeated. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look so hot either." He ran a hand down his arm, feeling the slight layer of grease. "I need a bath." "I washed you off the best I could while you were unconscious," she explained. He started to get up and she immediately put out a hand to steady him. "Don't overdo it, I'll help you." Leaning heavily on her, Alex staggered to the bathroom again. He noticed something he hadn't seen before: a pile of towels dirty with the same black grease covering him. He started shaking. "What is that?" "That's our security deposit," Kate joked. He didn't laugh. "You were covered with that black gunk when I found you, it took a while to get it off," she explained carefully. In the shower Alex leaned his head back into the warm water and closed his eyes. She climbed in with him, to keep him upright or help wash him, he wasn't sure. He needed both anyway. He didn't stop shaking until Kate wrapped herself around him and just held him, letting him know he wasn't alone anymore. After two rounds of soap, he finally started feeling human again. *** "You never answered my question." Kate blanched. She looked up to see Alex staring at her expectantly. "I mean, you told me some," he said, "but you left a lot out." She dropped her eyes to the floor. "I know. I didn't know how to tell you before this." "Before this?" He sounded almost angry. "How long has this been going on?" He wasn't even sure what "this" was, but it bothered him. Kate decided to tell him the truth, from the beginning. He'd improved dramatically after the sleeping, eating, and cleaning up. Personally Kate thought getting rid of the black crap did the most to improve his condition. "Remember back in Salt Lake City?" she began. "That-that-shock thing? I never understood that. When I touched you," he said haltingly, "something happened. I never knew what it was." He'd never forgotten, just tried not to think about it. Until now he could. Kate looked ashamed. "I know you hate how I invade your privacy anyway. But since then I always had an idea where you are, what you're doing." "Even in Russia?" Anger tinged his words with a harsh edge. "Even in Russia," she repeated quietly. "I would dream at night, see what you were doing. Even sometimes when I was awake, if you were feeling some strong emotion, I'd get an idea. It's not like I hear every single thought you have every moment of the day," she hastened to add. The hurt in his eyes nearly tore her apart. "I never wanted to do this to you," she apologized, fighting back tears. "I liked being close to you. I was never alone. I never even knew how much I grew to depend on it until you...disappeared. One minute you were there, the next you were gone. I couldn't sense you at all." Alex felt torn. He wanted to rip her throat out with his bare hands: how dare she lie to him! But another part of him couldn't deny the facts. She didn't hurt him or use him, but rescued him from living hell instead. If she hadn't known...he'd still be trapped there, alone, in the dark. At last he said, "I wish you would have told me before." "I didn't think it would come to this. I didn't know if you would understand," she pleaded. "When I felt you again, I knew you were suffering, I had to help. I couldn't just leave you there." A hard lump formed in Alex's throat. "You saved my life," he said, a mere statement of fact. Kate heard the gratitude he couldn't express. "I had to," she replied simply. He understood that too, without her even having to say it. She was like that. It gave him hope for the human race. Rarely, very rarely, it even gave him hope for his own soul. If she not only put up with him, but live inside his mind like that...what did it mean? "How can you stand it?" he asked. *How can you stand me?* She shrugged it off. "I told you, it's kind of nice sometimes. I've always been alone, I never realized what it was like to have someone until I met you." Alex heard her, and saw the truth of it in himself. He used to have strong beliefs: belief in his country, his flag, his mission. But all at once, everything changed. Since then he believed in one thing: himself. Now he doubted the truth of that simple fact. He shook his head, trying to sort out the conflicting emotions. He didn't understand how Kate could still care about him, much less want to have anything to do with him. She should have put a bullet in his brain long ago, but she didn't. It made him reevaluate everything. It was too much. Sensing his turmoil, Kate put a cool hand on his forehead. "Relax," she encouraged him. "You have time. You have so much to deal with. I'm here, I'm going to be here as long as you need me." "Why?" he asked, and the sound of it broke her heart. The tears came, and she didn't push them back. "Because I love you." She laid down next to him and put her arms around him, tears falling silently. His heart felt too big for his chest. He put an arm around her and weakly pulled her closer. She nestled in comfortably, sniffing a little. "Sorry I'm getting you all messy," she apologized. He laughed. He actually laughed; he thought he left it back in a deep, dark hole somewhere, never to return. "I've been through worse." *** Part Eleven: Not Even Close Notes: Yes this is NC-17 for graphic yummy sex. But it's more than that, honest. How did I describe it to a friend? "It's an emotional bonding sort of a thing that involves close physical contact." Or am I just rationalizing? By the way ladies, have you ever had a guy throw you over his shoulder for real? It sounds romantic but it's very uncomfortable, trust me. Oof. Alex opened his eyes to the sliver of morning sunlight fighting its way through the blackout curtains. He felt Kate's warm body still curled up next to him, an arm thrown over his chest. It felt good. It felt more than good; it might even feel somewhere approximating normal. She moaned a little in her sleep, probably from a nightmare. The sound made him want to protect her. *From what?* he wondered. He was the only danger in her life. Even if it was true, he didn't want to think of it that way. "Good morning," he said softly, brushing her hair out of her face. Sleepily one of Kate's eyes opened to see him smiling sadly. "This is new," she mumbled. "You're coherent and I'm asleep." The eye closed again, so he let her rest. He got out of bed. The patchy sunlight helped him find his way around the room. Alex looked again at the pile of greasy towels now crowned with yesterday's clothes. The sight made him want to light a match and watch it burn. Especially the jacket. He loved that jacket, dammit. For a motel in the middle of BFE, North Dakota, she had it pretty well stocked. In the tiny refrigerator he found bread, peanut butter, milk, even apples. The mere smell of food set his stomach to growling like a rabid tiger. As he ate he continued to think about Kate. He watched her sleeping soundly, an arm thrown across the bed, a furrow in her brow. More than anything else he wanted to make that worry line go away. He was tired of lying to himself. He lied enough to everyone else, including Kate. She even let him get away with it most of the time, even though he knew she couldn't always sense the truth. She let him have his privacy, as much as she could. He didn't understand that. If Alex Krycek could read minds, he sure as hell wouldn't be tending bar six nights a week. She confounded him. She inspired him. She made him question everything he ever believed, or thought he believed. *See, there I go, doing it again.* Maybe it wasn't just her--maybe he loved her too. He shivered. Knowing now she'd followed him to Russia, he shook his head. What he most wanted to forget, to never think about again, she took it in stride. Things were going to change, whether he liked it or not. Long ago he promised he wouldn't let her get involved, to suffer the way he had. Too late for that now. Now he had to save them both--somehow. Kate woke up to see Alex sitting on the desk, one leg tucked under him, staring off into nothing. "Hey," she said, bringing him back into reality. "Whatcha thinking about?" "Why do women always have to ask that?" He sounded annoyed, but followed up with a sneaky grin. "We do it to annoy men who think they can just fuck us silly and then roll over snoring," she replied in the same tone. "But I haven't fucked you silly." "Not yet." She pulled the covers over her smile and gave him a languid look through her eyelashes. Kate wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, she didn't know what she wanted. Alex was Alex again, at least for now. She'd be damned if she let that opportunity slip by. Little by little, she watched the grin spread from Alex's lips to his eyes and light up his face. He slid the leg out from under him. "Is that a request?" "What, are you going to make me beg? I hate it when men go on their little power trips," she huffed. "Like us women have nothing better to do than--oof!" she said as he landed on top of her. She squirmed, trying to get in a better position. "You don't even have to ask," he said as he moved in to kiss her. The kiss tasted like apples, warm and sweet and hungry. It spread from Kate's mouth to her belly and out to her fingertips, still clutching the sheet. Her toes curled. Alex moved with her gently, slowly, drawing her out. *He is teasing me,* she thought, but didn't complain. Suddenly he dropped off the bed and wrenched the sheet out of her hands, off her completely. She shivered, more from lack of Alex than lack of covers. She pouted. Seeing her expression, he protested, "What are you complaining about? You teased me first." Suddenly he tossed her over his shoulder and headed for the bathroom. "What-are-you-talking-about," she gasped out in between steps. *It may sound romantic,* she thought, *but a shoulder in your gut isn't the most comfortable sensation.* Working her clothes off her body, Alex explained logically, "You brought me in here and got me all wet and soapy and then didn't do anything." Kate leaned back against the wall, the feel of his hands turning her knees to jelly. "You weren't in any shape," she managed to get out. He gazed into her eyes, his lips parted, his eyes dark and all sex. "Do you still think so?" he asked, nuzzling her neck. Her breath caught in her throat when his hands found her breasts, his body pinning hers against the wall. "Say it," he demanded. It took her mind a moment to recognize the words. "Say what," she breathed, confused but beyond caring. "Do you think I'm in any shape to be doing this," he reminded her, his mouth inches from her ear. Her chaotic mind struggled to form thoughts. "Yes, because you're obviously doing it," she rationalized, struggling to form the words. "No." "No?" "I'm not even getting started," he assured her, and the thought made Kate lose control. She threw an arm around his neck to keep from falling over as her knees gave way. Alex never even broke his stride. Before she knew it, Alex had the rest of his clothes off and both of them covered in hot water. "I'd say you're up to the task," she punned, and he laughed softly. "Not even close," he whispered. "I won't be close until I have you up against this wall, screaming my name," he promised. The words, the animalistic sound of his voice, nearly made her scream right then and there. His hands found every part of her. One moment he teased a nipple, the next a hand stroked the back of her knee. Kate could feel his pounding erection slide against her belly. The expectation of it, the memory of what he did to her, it made her dig her fingernails into his shoulderblades is if to say: Yes. Do everything you just said you would do. Or I will hurt you. She felt more than heard his self-assured chuckle and knew he understood. His hand stroked her abdomen, working his way down, sliding between her legs. She gasped; he found her wet and throbbing, he could almost smell the desire pouring from her. He needed this. He needed her. To make him feel alive, to make him feel whole. And she did. He stroked her center gently with his thumb, barely touching her, and her grip on his shoulders tightened, her muscles tense with urgency. Alex slid his tongue down her throat to her breast. As he slid a finger inside her dampness, he bit down gently on her nipple. She was so ready for him, she came so hard; clenched around him, hands kneading his back, gulping down sobs. Alex didn't give her time to recover. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him. When he pressed her into the wall she opened to him gladly, gasping softly from the intense sensation. He nipped her shoulder, nearly losing control himself from the feel of her wrapped around him completely, body and soul. He could taste the salt-sweet of her skin, the steam from the shower mixed with his perspiration. The need built inside him, the demand for release. He filled her deeply, completely, losing himself inside her. Only this time it felt right. The fear drained out of him, filling him with something else. With her. He raised his head from her shoulder to see her eyes following his every move, her lip firmly between her teeth. She didn't have to beg, she didn't even have to ask. Submission was too demeaning a word for it; instead, she met him halfway, their desire for each other tangled up and coming together. To make them one. To make them whole. He made love to her slowly at first, simply enjoying each sensation, each stroke and moan, finding the rhythm. To express with his body what he simply couldn't tell her any other way. She understood everything, every pause, every heartbeat, every breath they shared. Too soon the desire overcame him and he thrust into her faster, pushing harder, her breath quickening to meet the pace he set. Locked together in the oldest dance of all, his eyes on hers, he expressed everything he couldn't bring himself to say aloud. She took all of it and then some, cherishing every bit he shared with her. He saw the sweet ecstasy suffuse her face, then she convulsed around him and growled deep in her throat. And yes, incredibly, like a prayer, his name on her lips. Alex. Over and over, silently, like a mantra. The sound made him lose control. The waves rocked him, zinging like lightning up and down his spine to his toes to the top of his head and back again. He rinsed them off in the rapidly cooling water, then toweled Kate off. He must have done something right, she just stayed limp and pliable in his arms. He felt the same way: drained. Without bothering to dress he led her back into the other room and wrapped himself around her in bed. "Took you long enough," she sighed. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he admitted. "You thought about doing that, a very long time ago," she reminded him. He remembered now. The motel room back in Winslow: he'd only known her a few days. She forgot a towel so she stuck her head out of the bathroom to ask him to get her one. The sight of her, wet and pink and tousled, made him think about doing...well, something like what he just did. "If I remember right, you got really mad at me for thinking that." A moment later he asked, "Are you mad now?" "Was never mad," she mumbled. "Was embarrassed." A thought tickled the back of Alex's mind. "Because you wanted me to." He could feel her blushing. "I guess," she admitted. Alex only squeezed her tighter. "See, it all worked out," he explained. She giggled. *** Part Twelve: Justice for All Alex surveyed the tiny motel room. "We'd better run to town for supplies before we head out," he decided. Two days after Kate found him in the missile silo, Alex could think of nothing but running, as far and as fast as he could. Although stronger physically, deep down he remained shaken. Kate knew only time could heal the latest layer of scars. "I was hoping we could hit the road first," she objected. Alex looked at her askance. "What's wrong with the store in town?" "It's the guy who works there. He gives me the creeps." Krycek learned through experience to trust her instincts. "What aren't you telling me?" "The man, he does more than run the store. He's involved with some sort of militia group. I couldn't help but notice, it's all he thinks about. He's not a nice guy," she explained. Alex's face hardened. "One of those so-called patriots, huh?" Kate registered surprise at his disdainful tone. "I don't get it. Aren't you out to get The Man too?" she asked, the capital letters evident. "One man in particular, yes. But killing innocent Americans? That's not patriotism, that's terrorism. I love this country, dammit." Alex set his jaw. "You never fail to surprise me," she admitted. "What's that supposed to mean?" he accused. She didn't want to answer that question. "Never mind. Besides, don't you want me to stay interesting?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood. *** Kate kept to herself as he drove, trying to comprehend Krycek's attitude. On the outside, it looked like simple hypocrisy. The ends justified the means--for him, no one else. On the other hand, she remembered the years he spent in the Army. *He means it,* she realized. He truly did love his country. He had an undying hatred for the men who tried to bring it down, whether they presided over the highest levels or worked underground through terror. She spotted the man she hated working the register. "Find everything you need?" he asked while he rang up their purchases. "Almost everything," Krycek said. Kate looked at him surreptitiously from under her eyelashes. He was up to something, she could feel it. That didn't mean she agreed with it. "If you could direct me to the nearest decent gun store, I'd sure appreciate it," Alex continued, his tone betraying nothing but guileless interest. The man nearly cracked a smile. "You've come to the right place," he replied. "I happen to run the store right next door. Give me a minute, I'll show you around myself. Hey, Kelly!" he shouted towards the rear of the store. A teenage girl poked her head out of a door marked "Employees Only." "What is it, Mr. Mayhew?" she whined as she snapped her gum. "Cover the register for a minute, I have to take this gentleman next door," he instructed her. Rolling her heavily made-up eyes, Kelly obeyed. Kate took in the rows of gleaming, polished metal lining the walls of the gun store. She tried to ignore Alex, busily talking up Mayhew. She caught bits of his story, he needed something automatic and high-caliber for "self-protection". Mayhew ate it up like a starving homeless dog. Sensing a fellow traveler, he showed off the pride of his collection: an M-16 rifle. "Ooooh," Alex breathed, cradling the gun like an infant. "I had one like this is Saudi. A man's best friend, and that's no lie," he set the hook. "You served in the Gulf?" Mayhew's eyes narrowed with interest. "Of course. I signed on with Uncle Sam as soon as he'd take me," Alex said proudly. Then he set down the gun and prepared to complete the sale. "Enough with the show. Where's the real stuff?" he asked softly. Completely won over, Mayhew glanced around. The store was desolate. The man watching the store when they came in had disappeared as soon as he figured out Mayhew had a special customer. Kate stood with her back to Alex, feigning interest in a .38 Smith and Wesson. Following his gaze, Alex assured the other man. "She's with me." "Come with me." Krycek followed Mayhew's lead through the back door, then closed it firmly behind him. The other man emerged shortly and tried to sell Kate a Lady Wesson. She listened to him with half an ear, trying her best not to correct the gaping errors in his sales technique. Over thirty minutes later, Krycek and Mayhew re-emerged. "Like I said, it's nice to meet a patriot like yourself," Mayhew said to Alex, holding out his hand. "Never did catch your name." Alex shook the man's hand firmly. "Arntzen. Michael Arntzen." Continued in Part III |
Crawling Between Earth And Heaven
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