RATales Archive

Past The Point Of No Return

by Kerowyn


Title: Past the Point of No Return
Author: Kerowyn
Email address: ladyker@mindspring.com
Distribution: RATales archive. Anyone else, please ask first.
Rating: NC-17 for sweet, seductive SMUT!
Category: Um, see above. S, R, if you can call it that. <eg>
Spoilers: Just the arm thing.
Keywords: Krycek/Scully sex, er, romance
Summary: Scully finds out she has more in common with Krycek than she ever wanted to admit.
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Files or the characters of Scully and Krycek. The music is directly quoted from Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Phantom of the Opera" CD notes. Nope, I don't own 'em either, I'm just borrowing them for effect.
Notes: I never thought I'd write holiday fic, much less gratuitous songfic, but the idea for this got into my brain somehow and just wormed its way in. Consider it a happy Halloween present to all my fellow Skippers and/or smut hounds.


When she received the invitation weeks ago, Scully nearly threw it out like she always did. Most Halloween nights she spent home alone, reading a good murder mystery and handing out chocolate for the trick-or-treaters. She tried her best to smile happily when she saw the young faces alight with the thought of candy, but the pain never truly faded.

Maybe that's what changed her mind. She spent too many holidays alone, lost in her own cheerless thoughts. She had heard about the Halloween party the local doctor's association threw every year. From what she knew, it hardly rated as a wild fraternity party. Perhaps talking shop with her colleagues would take her mind off her own self-pity.

As she pulled up to Dr. Wilson's large Victorian home, she could see why he hosted the parties each year. The orthopedic surgeon owned the perfect Halloween house, complete with numerous chimneys, dormer windows, and a balcony framed with wrought iron. Scully opened the door and fought down the urge to get back into her car and go home. If anything, the time and effort she put into her costume convinced her to stay.

With care she ascended the front steps where a group of doctors greeted her. She exchanged a few pleasantries and entered the house. Immediately Scully spotted a friendly face and waved. Colleen MacNamara worked her way through the crowd to greet her.

"Dana! I'm so happy you could make it!"

"I had a little extra time away from work, so I thought I'd drop by," Scully replied pleasantly.

Colleen tsk'd her. "I'd scold you but I know how it is," the other doctor said with a sigh. They shared an interest in forensic pathology and the other woman worked for the D.C. police. "Death never takes a holiday."

"You can say that again," Scully replied, fluttering her fan and revealing the gaping stitches she had painstakingly applied earlier with red makeup. They ringed her neck, giving the appearance of a severed head.

Colleen's eyes grew wide. "If you ever get tired of the stiffs, you could go into show business," she suggested.

"Indeed, Madame, but what would the peasants say?" Scully replied in an affected French accent. She had spent every moment of her free time tracking down an 18th century dress, complete with faux jewels and powdered wig. "I say, let them eat cake!" she pronounced with a smile.

As she and Colleen headed to the buffet to do just that, Scully garnered quite a bit of attention. "You know, you need someone to look at that head wound," Dr. Brooks, the neurologist, pointed out. The others were dressed according to specialty or simply for fun. Dr. Wilson, the host of the party, wore a skeleton costume.

"He never gets tired of that thing," Colleen commented. "The joke's a little old by now."

"And to think, I didn't have time to give myself a Y-incision," Scully retorted, sipping some punch.

"For that I am profoundly grateful," her friend laughed.

Scully gestured to Colleen's costume, taking in the sequins, feathers, and beads. "What's with the flapper look?"

Colleen gave her a sly grin. "It's easy. This was my prom dress from 1927."

"Yeah, and I'm the living reincarnation of Marie Antoinette," Scully snorted.

"Maybe not, but you certainly look it."

"Thanks. On that note, I have to powder my nose."

Cursing her full skirts, Scully headed out of the bathroom. Her nose literally powdered, her lips a flaming red, she headed back into the crowd. A tall figure appeared out of the shadows and took her gloved hand in his before she could react.

"Bon soir, mademoiselle," he said in a deep voice as he brought her hand to his lips.

"Excusez-moi, monsieur," she stammered out as she tore her hand from his grasp. Scully looked up and found a pair of green eyes glittering at her from behind a mask. He wore a tuxedo, a long black cape, and black gloves. The mask hid his eyes, nose and half of his face. His short black hair swept back from the mask. Had she ever met this man before? He acted as if he knew her. "Comment vous appelez-vous?" she demanded.

"Forgive me, mademoiselle," he replied in a thick French accent. "Do you not recognize me? I am the Phantom, of course, just as you are Marie Antoinette. Perhaps tomorrow you will no longer be the ill-fated queen. I, au contraire, shall remain forever the Phantom, non?"

Scully put her hands on her hips and tried to stare him down like an escaped felon on PCP.

She was rewarded only by the gleam of amusement in his smile. "Mademoiselle has no time for riddles, I see. Would she care to dance?"

The look in his hooded eyes, amusement mixed with something else, something darker, intrigued her. "If you like," she responded in her French accent.

Catching her hand up in his once again, he led her beneath the crystal chandelier. The Phantom took up her hand as Bach's "Toca et Fuga" played. Not the easiest piece of music to dance to, somehow he moved with a grace that drew her in. She followed his lead as her skirts and his cape swirled around them.

When the piece ended, Scully struggled to catch her breath. The room seemed to swim around her, the lights dimming, the other guests fading away. The music played on, Beethoven she guessed, and the Phantom took the lead once more. Pulling her closer, Scully could feel his cool breath on her cheek. Through her muddled mind she wondered how he could remain so cool when she felt as if a fire blazed within her, scorching her from the inside out.

Before she knew it, the Phantom began singing to her. His lips hovered over her ear and murmured a melody she could feel in her bones.

"Slowly, gently
night unfurls its splendour
Grasp it, sense it
tremulous and tender
Turn your face away
from the garish light of day
turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light
and listen to
the music of the night..."

Scully listened. His voice drowned out everything else. Dimly she wondered how he could have such an effect on her. Was it her imagination or did a mysterious fog arise, cutting her and the Phantom off from the rest of the world? She would have to ask Mulder in the morning...Mulder...the thought of her partner faded from her mind. The Phantom filled her entire world.

"Floating, falling,
sweet intoxication
Touch me, trust me
savour each sensation
Let the dream begin
let your darker side give in
to the power of the music that I write
the power of
the music of the night..."

As if in a dream, Scully saw herself following the Phantom up a narrow staircase to a darkened balcony. With infinite care he removed her elaborate wig and the bobby pins that kept it in place. "That's better, ma cher, non?" he said huskily as he ran a hand through her flattened red hair.

"Yes, ah, oui monsieur," she replied, touching the spot where his gloved hand had traveled.

When his hungry mouth descended on hers, she was ready and willing. Her eyes closed, her body overcome by the heat. Her knees trembled, threatened to give way, so she grabbed hold of his arms.

"Wha--" Scully nearly shrieked, backing up a few steps until the wrought iron trapped her. "You-- you--what the hell do you think you're doing?" she sputtered.

"Honestly, Scully, I'm surprised it took you this long," Alex Krycek replied with a sardonic smile. His French accent had mysteriously vanished. "A missing arm isn't an easy thing to hide."

"You tried to seduce me," she accused him.

With one hand he pulled the mask from his face and threw it down. "You knew what you were doing, Agent," he mocked. "And who you were doing it with."

"I did not," she flatly denied. "Now let me go."

Krycek swept out his arm. "I'm not stopping you."

Scully eyed the door, only a few feet away from where she stood. The Phantom-turned-Krycek regarded her angrily. His green eyes shone in the dim light. Dammit, he was right. She knew the moment she saw the green eyes. He'd been careful, keeping her hand on his shoulder, his prosthetic hidden underneath his cape.

It only took a moment of hesitation before he swept down on her like a hawk. His mouth seized hers, his tongue caressing her teeth, her tongue. His right hand snaked behind her head, made her escape impossible. In spite of herself Scully drew in a quick breath. God, this man exuded sensuality like cologne. Why hadn't she noticed it before? He had been too busy killing her sister, Scully's mind informed her. She began to struggle and he let go.

Scully raised a hand to dab at the side of her mouth. "Krycek, you're a liar, a murderer, and for all I know, a rapist."

"Aw, and I forgot to bring along my Ecstasy," he groaned. "Do you honestly think I would take a woman without her consent? Your pragmatic mind can't deny it. What would I possibly get out of it?"

"Power. Revenge," she flung back at him. "I doubt there is much you wouldn't stoop to, Krycek, for any reason."

He shook his head. He looked almost disappointed in her. "You don't know me at all."

"I know enough. I should haul your ass in for questioning."

"If you did that I wouldn't survive till morning," he said softly, moving closer and tracing a line down her throat. "I would very much like to see the sun come up, Scully. With or without you."

Calfskin, she decided. No other gloves felt that heavenly against bare flesh. As his hand moved lower, Scully wondered why she had to pick a dress that made her cleavage practically spill over? Cursing herself for a fool, she tried to switch from lust-crazed mode back into logic mode. "No," she declared.

"No? I haven't even asked you a question. Or does that mean, 'No, Krycek, I'm not going to haul your ass in for questioning after all?' I could kill you, you know," he said idly, his hand moving back up to her exposed throat. "They'd never find me."

"Mulder would find you."

"Mulder couldn't find his ass with both hands and a map," Krycek said vehemently. "Besides, I don't want to kill you. Before you ask, I wasn't sent here by anyone. I'm not supposed to question you, or torture you for no good reason, or even give you information." His voice turned deep and harsh. "I would, however, like to make love to you, Dana."

That was by far the strangest proposition she had ever heard but she didn't laugh. Scully went through the list. She had no reason to trust him. She had every reason to bring him in as a known felon. She didn't sleep with strangers, even if she knew this one a long time ago. She certainly didn't sleep with lying, murdering, back-stabbing sons of bitches.

Krycek watched Scully puzzle through her situation. He could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. The longer she stayed quiet, he figured, the better his chances were. Why did he ask her to sleep with him? Why did he go through all the trouble to seduce her? Revenge, like she said? Power? He didn't have any answers.

***

"Fine," Scully said, as if agreeing to a particularly unpleasant task like scrubbing the toilet.

Krycek looked confused. "Fine?"

"Look, I have a laundry list of reasons not to and a very, very short list of reasons to go home with you. Don't ask me why because I don't know. Chalk it up to sexual repression."

He laughed. "You're going to have to say about a zillion Hail Marys for this one."

"Don't remind me," she growled as she procured her wig. "There is no way I'm getting naked with you up here in the cold. So how the hell are we going to turn and walk out of this place without everyone and their dog noticing? Unlike some people, I have a reputation to uphold."

She turned around to find his mask in place once more. "Easy," he answered. "You go downstairs, say goodbye to all your friends, and I'll meet you outside. Oh, and you might want to check your lipstick, Dana. It got a little smeared." With those words, he hopped off the railing and into the darkness.

When Scully opened the door to her car, he gave her a sly grin from the passenger's side. "I'm not even going to ask how you got through the lock, but if it's broken, you're paying for it," she threatened.

"I pay all my debts."

"I'm sure you do."

Krycek sensed her unwillingness to return to her home with him so he directed her to his hotel room. "Not bad," she commented. "I guess international assassins get paid the big money."

He ignored the comment although it hit the mark. He didn't have much cash at the moment but he splurged on his accommodations, keeping his fingers crossed the entire time.

Scully expected him to pounce the minute the door of his hotel room snicked shut behind her but he surprised her once more. "Want something to drink?" he offered, pulling off his gloves and removing his cape and mask.

"Water's fine," she replied as she dropped down on the couch. She set the wig carefully on the corner of the couch and reached down to remove her shoes.

Krycek handed her a bottle of Evian and sat down beside her. She watched him secure another bottle of water between his knees and unscrew the top with his right hand. "Just one of my many talents," he joked, but Scully heard the undercurrent of old pain in his voice. Old pain, like hers, that never quite went away. Grudgingly she admitted to herself that they weren't as different as she would like to believe.

Under his breath, Krycek began to sing once more.

"Wishing you were
somehow here again
wishing you were
somehow near
Sometimes it seemed
if I just dreamed
somehow you would be here...

Too many years
fighting back tears
Why can't the past just die?"

"Krycek," she said softly, "what are you doing?"

Taking a drink of water, he shrugged. "Singing." He turned to face her. "You seemed sad there for a moment."

"It is," she said, then explained, "That song. It's sad."

"You're not ready to pull out your Sig and blow my head off for my lousy singing voice?"

She shook her head. "You have a beautiful voice, Alex."

When he snorted, she raised one eyebrow. "What?"

His eyes met hers. In this light she could see his eyes, the incredible, almost unnatural green color. "I don't think I've ever heard you say my name before."

"What reason would I have had?" she answered.

His smile reappeared. "You're so practical, Dana. Everything has to have a reason, an explanation."

"Got a problem with that?"

Alex took a moment to consider the question. "No. It's something I like about you. Like how you don't pull your punches. If there's something you want to say, you just come right out and say it. I'm a little envious."

"Envious." The disbelief in her tone was palpable.

"I don't expect you to understand. It's a hard life I chose. I'm not going to justify it. I don't even really want to talk about it. But sometimes I wish things could have been different. I zigged when I should have zagged, and now I have to live with it."

"That's a very believable story you've concocted there, Alex."

"I don't expect you to believe me," he said calmly. "To be brutally honest, I don't give a damn what you think of me."

*I don't know what to think anymore,* Scully thought to herself. Catching herself staring at his prosthetic hand, she moved closer and grasped it gently. Alex jumped infinitesimally at the contact but didn't move. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

When he didn't respond she lifted the hand to her mouth and kissed it, much as he had done to her earlier that evening. "So much has been taken from me," she murmured. "Sometimes I forget I'm not the only one until it hits me in the ass."

"Is that a request?" Alex raised one eyebrow suggestively but she saw hesitation in his face. She wondered if he'd had many women since he lost his arm.

As if to silence her thoughts he kissed her softly, a departure from the passion he had unleashed before. Scully's heart pounded in her ears. For some reason the tenderness was much more intimate than the frantic lust she'd experienced earlier. He said he wanted to make love to her. She hadn't thought he was capable of it. Now she was changing her mind.

Scully broke away long enough to peel her long gloves down off her arms and drop them on the floor. Her bare hands roamed his face and down his chest. Alex's hand went to her neck once again but he didn't force her. He simply stroked her skin with his thumb, sending shivers down her spine. She responded by deepening the kiss, leaning forward until her dress began to shift. Fumbling for the top, she leaned back and laughed breathlessly.

"So modest?" Alex whispered, moving in on her instead. Scully ducked at the last minute and caught the edge of his chin gently between her teeth. Slowly she worked her way back to the point of his jaw, nibbling and sucking lightly, teasing him. Alex took the opportunity to reach for her neck, then lower. Scully gasped, clenching his tuxedo jacket in her hands. With one hand and his artful mouth Alex worshipped the tender skin of her breasts. Jesus Christ, she hadn't even taken the dress off yet. Scully began to imagine what that mouth, that hand could do to her naked skin. Shuddering, she arched her back, giving him even better access.

"Dana," he said in a husky tone, "You have to help me with the buttons."

Of course she would have to. She had a bitch of a time getting them all done up in the back by herself. But after years of Catholic school she learned flexibility. Like how to unzip a cranky plaid jumper. God she hated those things.

Putting her back to him, she began at the bottom. She could feel Alex fumbling with the tiny buttons but before long they met in the middle. He planted a kiss on her spine, then pushed the fabric aside.

"Christ, Scully, I never knew you had it in you," he gasped as she stood to remove the rest of the dress. Underneath she wore a shimmering white bustier with matching silk panties.

"I'm just full of surprises," she remarked, smirking a little to herself at the expression on his face. She stepped out of the dress and positioned herself in his lap, her cleavage inches from his face. "Don't you think it's a little hot in here?" she remarked, tugging at his tuxedo jacket.

Like a trained dog he complied, shrugging out of the jacket and tossing it aside. Alex pulled at his tie but Scully shooed his hand away and took one end in her teeth, freeing him. Next she went to work on his cufflinks, then the first few buttons of his shirt. She wanted to repay him for the same attention he gave her chest.

His right hand stroked her thigh, then inched upwards to grip her ass. Scully gasped with shock and rubbed up against him, her chest against his, her wet center against his unmistakable erection.

"Dana," he moaned, "As much as I'd love to take you right here and now, don't you think we'd be more comfortable in the bedroom?"

She nibbled playfully on his earlobe. "Right now I'd do about anything you asked."

"Okay, but you sort of have to get off me first."

"What, a big strong guy like you can't pick me up and carry me?" she demanded.

"I hear a challenge."

She grinned. "I hope you like challenges."

"Always," he replied. When he stood up Scully's legs locked around his hips, her arms around his shoulders. He hardly had to do anything but stagger to the bedroom and set her down. Quickly Alex shed his clothing. When he started on his belt buckle, Scully leaned forward and kissed his stomach, making his head reel.

"You know what the sexiest part of a man is, according to the esteemed Dr. Dana Scully?" she asked conversationally.

"What say you show me."

"Here," she announced, yanking his boxers down and caressing the muscle that ran just inside his hipbones on either side.

"Okay, woman, that does it," he decided. "You're a tease."

Scully looked outraged. He never would have expected it, but seeing her angry, her color rising, he felt a new surge of desire.

"I am not a tease."

Alex kissed the top of one breast and tried to push her back, but she resisted. "Yes you are," he insisted.

"A tease doesn't finish what she starts," Scully said pragmatically.

He sighed. "Okay, then you're just going to have to finish what you started."

This time she pulled him down above her and kissed him hard, running her fingernails down his back. Flipping him over, she straddled him once again. Although she said nothing, they both knew he was off balance without his prosthetic.

"I may not be able to do buttons, but I can do zippers," Alex announced, and unzipped her lingerie. Tossing the scrap of lace aside, he lay his hand on her hip. Casually he worked his way up, tracing the underside of one breast with the backs of his fingers. Scully tossed her head back but didn't make a sound. He resolved to make her scream, make her moan, anything, before the sun came up. More than anything he wanted to see her lose control.

Scully moved forward and caught him off-guard with a kiss, moving her tongue in time with her hips. Alex felt her moisture seeping through his boxer shorts. He raised his hand and cupped her breast, finding her nipple alert and sensitive. Gently he ran his thumb over it. She had to pull away from the kiss to catch her breath and he attacked her other breast with his mouth. For long minutes he nibbled gently, sucking, until he heard her biting back a cry.

The practical side of Alex's mind kicked in and he reached for a condom. They both knew she couldn't get pregnant. He knew he was clean but he didn't want to worry her. God only knew what she thought of him already.

Scully brushed his hand away and ripped the condom wrapper open with her teeth. The understated savagery of the act sent a lightning bolt of arousal through his body. With one hand he reached for her, brushing the thin silk aside, and found her center. The wrapper still in her teeth, Scully dropped one hand down to balance herself. Alex heard her breathing harshly through her nose, trying desperately to hide her desire. Slowly he stroked her, entering her with two long fingers. She made a sound halfway between a scream and a moan, quickly cut off.

Reluctantly Scully pulled away. She pulled the last of his clothing off and shed her own soaked panties. She planted a kiss on the inside of his left hip. When she took his cock in her hand she felt it twitch. Looking up, she saw Alex's eyes taking in her every movement, his pupils dilated, a flush creeping up his bare chest to his face. With her other hand she stroked him, deftly unwrapping the condom to cover him.

Her job finished, she crept up his body. Scully wanted to feel every inch of his bare skin against her own. A voice inside her head began to nag her--did she really want to do this? This was her last chance to back out. From here on in she was past the point of no return. Before she could reconsider, Alex kissed her softly on the lips and her misgivings faded. His hand stroked her body from the top of her shoulder, pausing a moment to brush the side of her breast, down to her hip. Scully could feel his pulse beating a frantic rhythm between her thighs.

Raising herself up on two hands, she rubbed his cock against her tender flesh. Alex's hand continued its journey, lightly running his fingers across her back. She looked in his eyes and saw only desire. No lust for power, revenge. He let her take the lead, do with him whatever she wanted. That, more than anything, decided her. With one hand she maneuvered him inside her and was rewarded by a throaty groan. Scully had to drop her hand back down to control her trembling. With infinite patience Alex entered her, lifting his hips to meet her. He saw the hint of pain on her face and wanted desperately to soothe it. He pulled back slightly, then entered her again, a little deeper each time until she sat back, taking him inside her fully.

The sensation of Alex filling her completely was almost more than she could bear. She lost everything in him, in what they were doing. Scully began to rock forward, her clit brushing against him with each thrust. His hand reached for her breast, kneading it gently, rolling her nipple between his finger and thumb. "God," she moaned, "Alex." Her movements became more determined. She rose up slightly, then slid down his shaft with a deep cry of pleasure. When she rose up again, he lifted his hips to meet her, driving himself deeper within.

Scully's hands roamed his chest, her fingernails brushing past his nipples. Alex wasn't sure how much more he could stand before he went insane. The feeling of Scully wrapped tightly around him, stroking him with carnal desire, nearly overwhelmed him. With every thrust he brushed his thumb across her clit. Crying his name, her body racked with spasms of pleasure, she came. With a hoarse groan Alex let himself follow her over the cliff.

She collapsed on top of him and tried to catch her breath. "If I had known it would be like this, I would have seduced you years ago," he whispered.

Scully laughed. "You didn't seduce me. If you had we'd both be very uncomfortable right about now out on that balcony and I would still be calling you the Phantom."

"Does that mean you're not going to toss me in a cage and throw away the key?" he teased.

"And leave the women of the world deprived of a talent like yours? Hardly."

Alex rolled over and withdrew slowly. Scully sighed, then stretched out on the bed.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Dana. I can do everything I could do ten years ago. I just can't do it as often."

" 's okay," she mumbled, already feeling sleepy.

"But will you still respect me in the morning?"

"Alex, I don't respect you now."

"Good," he said to her raised eyebrow. "Then nothing's changed."

"I wouldn't say that," she replied, and drew him closer.

The End