Encounter

The brief rain had me standing close to a wall for shelter. Not that it mattered, since I was already rather wet, but just for the sake of it, and to keep my cigarette lit. Those damned poison sticks I had become addicted to. I knew they were bad for my health, but what the hell, most of what I did was bad for my health. I don't exactly live a peaceful life; being an errand boy for the consortium, in shit up to my ears on a daily basis. I actually consider cigarettes and alcohol the least threats to my well-being.

I inhaled the rich smoke, putting up the collar of my leather jacket. Damn, it was cold! Where was that old bastard? Couldn't he have chosen a warmer place for us to meet? He seemed to have a predilection for dark and cold streets, the wetter the better. This was probably one of his ways of showing his power, by letting me stand out in the dark and cold, waiting for him. I was fed up with him, but I couldn't find a way out, he was too powerful right now, having too many holds over me.

God knows he punished me for that DAT-tape fiasco, coming up with a devilish solution that served his plans together with making me pay dearly. I still have nightmares of coughing up that oily alien and almost dying in that silo. But thinking back, it had felt so good cheating that bastard, hearing the shift in his voice on the phone trying to regain control, when he understood that I was alive and that the DAT tape was in my possession. I believe it was at that point that he realized he had to reevaluate my use and abilities...smug bastard!

Now I was back in their little 'community', and I knew that they both realized my usefulness, maybe even respected me a bit, together with finding me an uncomfortable pain in the ass. I smirked faintly, dragging the last puff on the cigarette before flipping it away into a puddle. Sometimes I couldn't believe that I really was back with them. I loathed most of the men involved, and I knew it was mutual. But I also had some respect for their power, and I enjoyed the sources of information I had access to while working with them.

A big, black car drove up on my side of the road, headlights almost blinding me. It was about time he showed up! Opening the door I got into the backseat, welcoming the warmth. The driver, Belitsky cast a look at me in the rear view mirror, and I glared back dangerously. He was one of Spender's favorites, new, big, dumb and loyal.

The devil himself sat beside him, nonchalantly ignoring me; dragging on his Morley. I could almost hear the faint rustle of sound, as the glowing ember ate its way up the cigarette. Feeling kind of restless after the long wait in the cold, I cleared my throat.

"So, what do you want from me now?" I asked, trying to cloak my irritation at being kept waiting so long.

"I need you to prevent Mulder from getting access to some information. He has found a source that will provide him with some documents this evening". Another drag at the cigarette, then he turned looking straight into my eyes. "These documents must, under no circumstances, come into Mulder's possession, and I want you to get them before he does."

God! I really wanted to avoid Special Agent Fox Mulder, but knew that was probably an impossible wish, since he was always sniffing at the trails of the consortium's whereabouts.

"And what about the source, do you want me to...terminate him?"

"Why Alex, trying to sound tactful?" The old man smirked, using his usual amused, almost deprecating voice. I pressed my lips together hard, keeping any sarcastic words building up, behind those lips. "No, I don't want you to kill him," he continued. "Give him a slight lesson of what might be if he snoops again, but nothing else".

He handed me a folder that I opened up and glanced through. He was a computer nerd, had probably came in contact with Mulder through his freaking super nerd friends, calling themselves the Lone Gunmen. But I had to give it to them though; they were brilliant hackers, almost too brilliant for their own good.

Spender ordered Belitsky to stop at the side of the road, to drop me off, and I closed my jacket ready to go out into the cold again.

"I want you to give me positive reports on this! Destroy any possible back-up copies and get the information intended for Mulder back to me"

I didn't answer, just looked into those light, blue eyes and smiled sarcastically, closing the car door with a thud, walking down the street. The car stood still a while before it pulled out and drove away. Passing me, the wheels splashed through a puddle, almost spraying me. Damn Belitsky! I knew that was on purpose. I'd have to put that presumptuous bastard in his place, teach him to choose the people he fucks with, with more care.

I had plenty of time before Mulder would be picking up the information, and I planned to visit the guy who called himself 'The Riddle' on the net.

Coming to the building where Peter Kenswick AKA 'The Riddle' lived, I put one of my most trusting and innocent faces on, and knocked on the door. Hearing footsteps and seeing that little shadow in the peephole, I heard the fumbling of the door chain. The door opened and a man looked nervously at me through the narrow opening.

It had been ridiculously easy to trick the man into letting me into the apartment. The Riddle himself, was a thin little man with thick, enormous glasses that magnified his eyes, making him look like an owl. I almost felt sorry for his stupidity, he was so easy to read, body language betraying him, telling me where he had the back-up copies.

I worked him over a bit, but didn't put much effort into it. There was no need for much violence, the poor bastard looked terrified of me and almost fainted from fear after the first hit. I was now sitting by his computer, finding out whether he had sent the information somewhere, and destroying every trace of it on his computer.

The doorbell made me jerk and I glanced at the door, then at the computer screen, pressing the last commands for executing the permanent deletion. Switching off the lights, I put the folder, together with the diskettes, in my inner pocket and went over to the door. I looked out the peephole. God damn it! It was Mulder standing outside. What the hell was he doing here?

I looked around the room, as Mulder knocked on the door again, more persistently.

"Hey! Are you okay in there, Mr. Kenswick?"

Knowing Mulder, I knew that he was going to break into the apartment soon, and I couldn't find any other solution but climbing out the window, hoping that the downspout was well bolted to the wall.

If I had a normal job, I would probably sit on my couch, sip a beer, and watch football, I thought before lifting my other leg over the windowsill...Nah! Boring, I stated, sliding down to the street three stories below.

The old goat would be pleased with me this time. I scurried away and then stood, hiding behind some bushes planted by the parking lot of the apartment building. I could clearly see Mulder looking out the window, realizing that he had just lost the information, as well as the thief. He rubbed his temple with the fingers of his left hand, still gazing out into the dark. For a moment I thought he was looking straight at me, but I stilled myself as my logic told me that was impossible.

For a while I almost felt sorry for the broad shouldered man in the dark overcoat standing up there. Always just within reach of information, when it was snatched from him. That must be so frustrating. He struggled hard, and I admitted that I felt some kind of admiration for his eager search for the truth. Nevertheless I also knew that he'd probably never succeed, having such strong powers against him, always one step ahead of him.

Walking down the rain slick street, I lit yet another cigarette and dialed the numbers to Spender.

"Yes?" His voice almost tense, demanding good news.

"Mission completed", I said sarcastically. "Everything's dealt with, and I have a copy of the documents in my pocket".

"Good. I'll send Belitsky to fetch it within an hour".

"I'll be at the bar next to the place you dropped me off." I closed the cell phone and walked across the street. I could use a drink or two before heading home anyway.

Sitting in the darkest booth I sipped my second vodka, munching the cocktail nuts offered with the drinks. I studied the papers carefully, memorizing the information. Spender had seemed eager to have this in his possession, and I was eager to find out why this was so important to him.

Looking at my watch I could tell that the hour had already past. Putting the papers in order in the folder together with the diskette, I almost built up the cranky mood I'd experienced waiting outside in the rain, again. Then I saw Belitsky enter the bar, he looked around discreetly, spotted me and walked over to my booth, and I felt better in a sadistic way. He had an expression on his face as if we were old friends and I scowled at him.

"You have the papers?" He said sounding self-important. I merely glanced at the plastic folder on the table. He sat down heavily and pulled it over to him, looking at it...I'd bet he was illiterate.

"So this is it? You're a good boy, well done Alex". I almost choked he was just too much. Who did he think he was? He helped himself to my nuts and started some small talk. I smiled treacherously, closing my fist under the table so hard that the knuckles cracked.

"Could you drive me home? I think it has started raining again." I said looking innocent. Belitsky stopped chewing for a second, looking unsure.

"Spender wanted me to drive back with the file directly."

"Surely you can drop me off on the way. It won't take long."

"Okay," he said, grabbing the last of the nuts.

"You're a pal!" I said slapping his back, teeth clenched behind the smile as we walked out.

Almost at the car, I looked around, found the street empty and grabbed Belitsky's back, slamming him up against the car.

"Don't you *ever* fuck with me again you piece of shit!" I growled in his ear. "I'm *Krycek* to you, and if I found the effort worth it, I could kill you in an instant, remember that." Reaching for his balls, I twisted them hard. "...And don't you ever take my cocktail nuts again, or I'll eat yours!"

Squirming he managed to twist around, hitting me hard on the mouth. He moaned and bent forward slightly, hand protecting his crotch. Carefully licking my split lip, I felt the blood taste in my mouth and got even more furious, hitting him hard twice, grabbing his collar, and banging him up against the car. Then releasing him, letting him sag down into a puddle of water. I spit at his feet and growled some obscenities in Russian, before leaving him by the car moaning.

It was a petty act, but I felt so much better when I walked away. He had been begging for it for a long time now, and I had been more patient with him than I had with any of the other hired consortium gorillas. I knew Spender would be more than upset with me, kicking his trustful dog, but I felt so good walking away from him, that I didn't give a damn about any repercussions from Spender's side. I needed to find a more traveled street to wave down a cab, and I changed the direction to get there.

Then I froze, hearing that familiar sound of the cocking of a gun and an equally familiar voice hissed in my ear.

"Well, if it isn't the slippery rat himself. I was hoping someone would have given you rat poison by now."

"Fox Mulder, what a coincidence to meet you here" I said trying to keep my amused mood.

"Coincidence my ass!" He exclaimed.

"Your ass?" I smirked, and he hit my head with his open palm. I shook my head, as if to arrange my hair again, and glared rebelliously at him.

"Don't play smart with me!" He found my gun in the shoulder holster and took it. "Get going!" He pushed the barrel of his gun against my leather clad back, and I started to walk, silently cursing. I could have been lying peacefully in my lumpy bed right now, counting the cracks in the ceiling. But no! Such things weren't for me. I was Alex Krycek, the general punching bag it seemed.

Cuffed to the car door, I looked out at the street passing by, desperately longing for my cigarettes, my bed and a change of dry clothes. I could feel Mulder's looks from the corner of my eyes, but I refused to meet his eyes. I already knew what I would see in them, and I was too tired to deal with that right now.

"You don't have the papers do you?" Mulder suddenly asked.

"What papers?" I asked, twisting my head glancing sullenly at him...<deny everything>.

"Spare me Krycek" He snorted cynically. "I don't know that many green-eyed devils with black leather jackets. It took me a while getting your description out of Kenswick, but I smelled rat long before he stammered it out".

I tried to prevent a smile, but felt my failure as my split lip stung badly. Mulder looked at me with a hard-to-interpret grimace. I noticed a sparkle of danger in his eyes, and braced myself for the inevitable hit...that didn't come? The hands remained on the steering wheel, and I relaxed marginally, wondered where we were heading.

Mulder seemed to be deep in thought, and I was okay with the silence. Bending over slightly, wiping carefully with my hand over the lip, I realized it had started to bleed again, almost trickling down my chin. Casting a look at me, Mulder sighed and found an unused handkerchief in his pocket. He gave it to me quietly, but with a look on his face telling me not to dare drip blood in the car. I accepted it, mumbling thanks and put it against my lip, taking in the smell of clean linen and Mulder so clear.

God! I needed to get out of the car, the sooner the better. Why couldn't he leave for a while, so I could retrieve my little hidden blade to try picking the lock?

Suddenly we stopped and Mulder got out, opened up the backseat and picked up Kenswick's computer. Putting it on the roof, he yanked open the car door at my side, unnecessarily fast, which would have made me tumble out in a less than flattering way, if I hadn't spotted his sadistic expression in the side mirror, and was prepared. Pointing the gun at me, he came closer and uncuffed me from the car door.

"Okay, start walking, we're going to visit some friends of mine."

He knocked at a door, and my well-trained senses could hear the faint buzzing of a camera moving. The sounds of opening hatches, latches and locks, probably more than in Fort Knox, and then a little man peeped out...The Lone Gunmen!

"Mulder, this was unexpected...come on in."

"Thanks Frohike."

The funny looking, middle-aged man looked cheerfully at Mulder, and then he spotted me. Glancing curiously at me a while, ignoring my sulky grimace, before turning his gaze to Mulder, he stepped aside. We went in, and the two other goofs came towards us, looking happily at Mulder, and with the same curiosity at me as Frohike did, without asking a word, waiting for me or Mulder to explain my presence.

"Mulder man! To what do we owe the honor?" The longhaired blond guy, who looked like a too old teenager, asked.

"You know the information Kenswick managed to extract, that he was going to give me tonight? This ass..." Mulder hit me on the head with his open hand again, and I bit my teeth hard together, glaring angrily at him. "...Alex Krycek, stole the information, and then sabotaged the backup copies together with this computer".

The three very odd looking men gazed even more curiously at me, it was obvious that they had heard of me, and I'd bet it wasn't all praises. The bearded man, looking sophisticated in a nerdy way, dropped his gaze first, and went over to the computer Mulder had put down on a table.

"Well, we have to take a look at this darling then, maybe we can find the lost information." All four glanced at me at the same time, almost as if they had been connected to the same mind for an instance. I had a hard time keeping my face blank.

This could actually be kind of fun. I knew that they wouldn't be able to recover the information from the hard drive. Knowing the people I was dealing with, I had put a lot of effort in eradicating every trace on the computer. They probably underestimated me, but I have surely not underestimated them.

Looking around I spotted a couch that looked more than comfortable; well used and soft, and walked towards it, meeting Mulder's cautious looks as I sank down in it. He looked around the room, probably for something to cuff me to, but then seemed to drop it, and let me sit on the couch uncuffed.

Turning his attention to his three friends, who had connected the machine to a screen and keyboard, and started to clatter at the keyboard, alternatively humming, ah-ing and oh-ing.

"What? Can you retrieve it?" Mulder asked, lifting an eye, watching me every now and then.

"It's tricky indeed...this has been a thorough work" Byers mumbled, fingers dancing over the keys.

"There should be at least some electronic traces left, if we just can trace them, we would be able to decode them into the original message" Langly said, explaining to Mulder who stared intensely at the screen where the figures and numbers scrolled in a fast stream.

I yawned theatrically and leaned back against the couch, feeling that I really wouldn't mind sleeping. I didn't feel any impending threats right now, and just wanted to forget about everything that bothered me, if just for a moment. I allowed myself to close my eyes, keeping all my other senses connected, and it felt good to at least rest my eyes.

"Spender must be real proud of you this time!"

The bitter voice made me twitch, and I realized that I must have been half-asleep. Opening my eyes I saw Mulder standing by the couch, looking down at me with a mix of disappointment and anger. I cursed myself for letting my guards down, allowing myself to relax so much that I actually had slumbered. The Lone Gunmen looked at me too, but in their faces I could sense some traces of respect and almost...admiration? They appreciated technological skill, and the fact that I had been able to trick them, made me not just scum, but interesting scum.

"Spender doesn't acknowledge things by being proud." I said, and didn't even bother to deny that he was behind it. I didn't want to patronize Mulder any more. His eyes flashed dangerously and he breathed hard.

"Get up!" He growled, grabbing the cuff that hung loosely from my right hand.

I rose, feeling reluctant to leave the warm soft couch. Nodding at the Gunmen with a faint smile, which seemed to piss Mulder off even more, and turned around as he ushered me towards the door. He stopped by the door, and turned around.

"Thanks for trying to help guys. I will see you later." He said, pushing me out of the apartment.

"So the information's already with Spender?" Mulder asked. We had walked out of the building in silence, and I was kind of surprised he'd decided to talk to me.

"Should be in his nicotine colored hands by now, yes." I said and spit on the ground. My mouth still tasted blood, and I wouldn't mind drinking something to get rid of the taste. The air was cold and raw, and I was shivering in my leather jacket, as my body had just adjusted to the warmth and half slumber on the couch.

Less surprising, the conversation didn't go any further, and we were walking towards the car quiet again. Mulder held up the car keys, pressed the button that opened the automatic lock with a soft beep and gave me a strange look that made my skin creep.

"Get in the car!" He growled waving the gun towards the door. I sighed, reached for the door and got in.

Walking around the car to the driver's side, without taking his eyes off me, he got in, putting the keys in the ignition.

"Why don't you just let me go? I don't have the information and I can't get you what you want either." I tried, sounding reasonable, probably in vain, but what the heck.

He was a master of keeping his face impassive. Having that typical blank expression of his, I barely caught the sparkle in his eyes before his hand connected with my face, making my eyes water and nose throb. Goddamned it! He wanted to play it that way? I wasn't cuffed and could punch back; probably getting myself shot as well. It was almost worth it...but I strained myself, pinching the bridge of my nose trying to diminish the blood flow.

He stared at me breathing heavily, then started the car and pulled out onto the road.

"A simple no would have been sufficient," I muttered through my hand.

"Shut up."

I decided to obey, leaned my head back and held the already bloodied handkerchief against my nose. Sniffed a couple of time, feeling the blood at the back of my throat, really wanted to spit, but swallowed with a grimace. Bloody hell, if I couldn't have had a better way spending my evening.

By the time we arrived to Alexandria, my nosebleed had stopped, and I sat silent thinking very dark thoughts. Mulder parked the car in the garage, cut the engine and looked at me.

"You look like hell." He said matter of factly, and I snorted at that less than flattering observation.

"Well thanks, and whose fault is that?" I answered sarcastically and glared angry green fire at him. To my surprise Mulder actually smiled a bit, looking almost regretful and friendly, which made my synapses almost short circuit. Seeing his beautiful smile, I couldn't for my life hold my grudge against him. It ran off me like water from a duck's tail.

"Get out of the car." Mulder said. Not an angry request, just in a calm tone that expected to be obeyed.

We took the elevator up to the floor where Mulder had his apartment. Part of me wanted to flee and the other part wanted to stay and see what would happen. The curiosity won the inner battle, and I decided to stay put. It is possible that I underestimated him, but I was somehow sure that I would get a chance to get away later.

The inside of the apartment was the same as I remembered it. Dimly lit, a faint humming from the aquarium, messy, but somehow cozy. I stood still in the hall, watching Mulder lock the door.

"Go clean yourself up." He said, pointing towards the bathroom. There was actually no need for him to do that, I knew the blueprints of his apartment as my own.

I took the chance to relieve my bladder as well, and stood there looking around the small room. Typical bachelor bathroom, nothing fancy in view except a bottle of colorful bathoil, probably bought by a woman. A look in the mirror made me frown. I had dirt and blood smeared on my face, eyes were tired and hair a mess. Splashing my face with cold water, I took some soap and rubbed the spots till I almost looked presentable again. Fingering my split lip, I lent a thought to the mess that might await me. Then again, what the heck...beating Belitsky was worth it.

I braced myself to 'what kind of Mulder' I would find walking out of the bathroom door. There was a distinct possibility that he was just playing with me, like a cat...or should I say fox? Playing with a rat. Then again, I wasn't too sure about that. I had seen something strange in his eyes, like he finally really *saw* me. I carefully blew out air, and walked out.

He was sitting slumped back on the couch, feet on the coffee table, zapping mindlessly between channels. Hearing me enter the room, he signed at me to sit on the couch, and I sat down, feeling a little bit awkward. He handed me a bottle of beer and lifted up his own in a salute and drank.

I held the cold bottle firmly, watching him drink, seeing the Adams apple move as he swallowed. Lowering the bottle he studied me, drying the trickle of beer that had run down his chin, with the back of his hand.

"I'm afraid I don't have vodka."

"What? No. Beer's fine" I put the bottle to my lips, and enjoyed the cold, rich fluid flowing down my throat. I licked my lips, and noticed, kind of amused, that Mulder's tongue also reflexively did the same.

"Actually I like beer. Didn't know you were a man to pick up clichés."

"Me neither...I'm sorry."

I looked at him and lifted up the bottle to drink again. We sat quiet sipping our beers while the silly fraud UFO's hovered on the sci-fi channel.

"So what do you want?" I couldn't stand the silence anymore, and had to ask him. Mulder turned his gaze from the TV screen to me, looking questioningly.

"Well I'd guess it's not a polite invite between friends to beer and favorite TV shows?" I continued, pointing with my hand to the screen, not even bothering to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"It could have been." He mumbled, barely heard. "It's funny how things can develop."

I watched him quietly and he all of a sudden looked kind of sad and tired.

"I guess it was meant for us to take different roads." He continued.

"There can be many roads towards the same goals." I stated, looking intensely at him.

"What do you want?" I repeated, wanting to hear the magical words from his lips. But he lowered his gaze, playing around with the bottle.

"...I don't know," he mumbled, refusing to lift his gaze. "You always seem to keep giving me trouble, nevertheless I was kind of thrilled to see you...."

I suddenly felt brave and bold. Things couldn't develop to the worse could it? I would have to make the first move it seemed, and if I wasn't totally imperceptive, I didn't think I would get my fingers burned this time. I was hesitant though, since if I got burnt, I knew I wasn't a Phoenix who would rise from the ashes, anew and strong...I would crash towards the ground like Icarus, and I would be hurt badly.

But I couldn't let go this time; I had to know. Taking a deep breath through closed mouth, I stretched my arm out putting my hand at the side of Mulder's neck. First he twitched slightly, but then sat perfectly still and I let my fingers carefully follow the line of his jaw, over his lush lips, the soft cheek with a little bit stubble and back to his ear. Mulder leaned his head against my palm, closing his eyes, and I felt my pulse accelerate.

I turned his face against mine, and he opened his eyes looking into mine, pupils slightly dilated. There was no anger in his eyes, and I moved closer. Neither of us seemed to want to destroy the moment by talking, and there was no need for words right now.

Mulder lifted a slightly trembling hand and examined my split lip with his long fingers. His touch made me almost shiver, and the many nerve ends located at my sensitive lips sent tingling signals down my body. I parted my lips sticking out my pointed tongue, found the tip of his index finger, and circled my tongue around it.

Mulder's breathing became irregular and he started to breathe heavily. He was amazingly beautiful. His cheeks were flushed, his pupils big as wells and his lips were moist and slightly swollen. I wanted to rip his tie and shirt off, but instead unbuttoned it carefully, revealing his smooth naked chest. He leaned back, and I followed, starting to kiss down his throat. Tasting his skin, tracing with my tongue over his chest, and sucked one of his nipples.

I could feel his erection against my stomach, and he could probably feel mine against his leg in his soft, thin, dress pants. His hands stroked my hair and head, circled my shoulders and lower back.

"Take off that leather jacket," Mulder's voice was thick and strange, and we both sat up watching each other with shining almost feverish eyes. Fever induced madness, that was what it was, wasn't it? I started to undress and Mulder got rid of his shirt, got up, signaling that he'd be back soon.

I fell back against the couch, watching his strong back as he walked towards the bathroom. He didn't regret this did he? God I would have to throw myself in the icy Potomac River if he had. I heard the medicine cabinet open, watch his skirt lying on the floor and decided that he couldn't have changed his mind. Sitting up I pulled off my V-neck together with my T-shirt, and saw Mulder emerge from the bathroom as the clothing came off over my head.

He held a bottle of lube and some rubbers in his hand, and I could see in his face, that he had also been afraid that I would have regretted myself during the short time we'd been apart.

"Come here!" I said, voice purring, and the smile that was flashed at threatens to reach his both ears. I smiled back and helped him to take off his pants when he reached the couch. His tight underwear revealed a stiff bulge, and I swallowed hard, watching it. Mulder continued to unbutton my jeans, and I pulled them down, Mulder leaning down on his knees drawing them over my feet. His movement made me lose my view of his crotch, but I found myself appreciating his rear end as well as the front side.

He looked up at me, first in my face, and then his gaze followed my chest down to my erect cock desperately wanting out of the underwear. Separating my long legs, he crawled up between them, and I leaned down, taking the lube with me.

Pressing himself against me, Mulder stroked my cock, holding it in his hand, kissing my chest and neck. I stroked his neck, followed the long spine down to his ass. Massaging his firm buttocks, teasing and stroking his anus with my lubed fingers. Mulder had started to breathe gaspingly almost moaning, and I knew he would be ready soon.

Putting my fingers in, probing, reaching the prostate, rubbing and making Mulder flex and moan. It was time; Mulder fumbled with the rubber, put it on my hard, erect cock while rubbing my balls and shaft. We shifted positions and I buried myself inside of him, trying not to scream too loud, drawing attention from any of his neighbors.

This was too good to be true, it must be a dream?...But God no! I didn't wake up, and the feelings that seared through my body were so definite and tangible...so true! I was one with this beautiful man, and it was as if we were made for each other.

Mulder was breathing deep and regular, his warm body was snuggled up against mine and it felt so good. Casting a glance out the window I could see that it was almost dawn, I would have to leave. I looked down at the peaceful face with a blend of happiness and sorrow. I was afraid of what I would see in his face when he woke. Would it be disgust, regrets or anger? I could hear a quiet sound like from a wounded animal, and realized it came from me.

What if he would look at me with that beautiful smile I had seen last night? I wouldn't know, because I intended to leave without waking him. Coward or not, I'd rather call it self- preservation. I would go on with the thought of what happened last night, and that he might not have regretted...and maybe he didn't.

Anyway, I had been lying awake looking at the sleeping man a long time now...too long actually. I had made up my mind and I carefully loosened myself from him, getting up. Mulder protested slightly in his sleep, but relaxed as he found another comfortable position.

Looking down at him a last time, I put my hand inside of the leather jacket, retrieving my gift to him. Carefully walking out, I locked the door from the outside with the little blade I otherwise usually used to open doors.

Walking down the misty street, breathing the fresh crisp air I thought of my future and what might be. It had been a long time since I even dared to think of a future for me, and this made me stronger than before, almost longing to face Spender and his men. It was as if someone had thrown me a lifejacket; I wouldn't drown. I felt more defiant than usual, and my steps were so much lighter.

...And the reason for all of this was a man with ruffled hair, just waking up on his couch. Holding a pillow hard to his chest, realizing that he was alone. Sitting up on the edge of the couch, stroking his neck and wondering whether everything had just been a pleasant dream. Then his eyes caught the black diskette lying on the coffee table, and warmth and happiness spread through his body; as well as the beautiful smile on his face that Krycek had so much wanted to see.