The Artifact
Bastard.
And I'm wasting a shitload of money on this flurry of flights. I'm thinking of
going to the last place he'd think to look for me—Virginia. He'll never look
for me in his own backyard.
Somehow, though, I know that he'll eventually find me, no matter where I am.
It's not that easy to try to get a good night's sleep in the air. I've ended up
sleeping during the afternoons in an attempt to avoid him, catching flights in
the evening and staying up all night.
So here I am in Minneapolis. The disorientation of one hotel after another is
starting to get to me. I'm in a first class room in the Clarion but after a
while, who cares—I'd like to stop running. I stopped in Phoenix and look what
happened.
Now I'm the paranoid one. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation but I can't stop
jumping at shadows. Hallucinations are fun but not when one thinks that one is
being watched by aliens or hunted by a spooky ex-FBI man prone to impulsive fits
of violent behavior at the sight of me. Is it paranoia? Maybe. I'd dare anyone
who thinks so to spend just one day in my shoes.
I suppose I'm sulking, but Jesus, who wouldn't in my position? I can't stop
thinking that when he does finally catch up with me, it'll be frontier justice
all over again and this time he'll ensure somehow that the fucking aliens don't
revive me. I'm starting to think he'd be doing me a favor.
What a trip. Fox Mulder as Angel de la Mort.
I sigh and hold up my glass in a mocking salute before draining it.
Mulder was grateful for the pass-card that Frohike had given him—it enabled
him to open the hotel room door much the way that a skeleton key would have.
Following Krycek's previous pattern, Mulder had guessed he'd choose a three star
hotel close to the airport. He'd been catching up with Krycek, slowly but
surely. Mulder was a little put out that Krycek kept evading their shared dream
space—it was playing havoc with his own sleep cycle. Too late, he'd realized
Krycek must have been sleeping during the day. He'd end up on Singapore time
eventually, in his attempts to keep up.
Slipping into the room, he paused a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim
interior. As his pupils dilated to compensate for the lack of light, he spotted
a form in the bed, under the covers. Creeping stealthily across the room,
Mulder could make out Krycek's sleeping features in the sliver of light from the
partially open drapes at the window. Must've fallen prey to exhaustion finally,
to be sleeping in the early morning as he was, Mulder mused to himself. He
clicked off the safety.
Krycek's eyes flew open at the sound and he sat up with an audible intake of
breath..
Stepping back, Mulder said, "Ah-ah. Stay down, Krycek. My trigger finger is
rusty and I have no idea what I might hit if you get up."
"Fuck," Krycek muttered and sank back down with a sigh.
Mulder turned on the bedside lamp and then nodded approvingly. "All this pale
blue compliments you, Alex. Although, I guess it isn't really pale blue, is it?
It's—more a periwinkle, or even sky blue—"
"How'd you find me?" Krycek passed a weary hand over his face, rubbing his eyes.
Mulder sucked on his lower lip, deliberating. "Hands up, over your head.
Slowly.
That's it."
"You gonna shoot me, Mulder?" Krycek's tone was jocular and light but Mulder
could see the quickening of his breath and the way he tensed up as Mulder moved
closer.
"It's not my intention but like I said, don't push your luck. I might hit your
leg or something even more vital." Mulder brought the gun against Krycek's
upper thigh, through the covers. He took out a pair of cuffs. "Here. Try
these on."
Krycek stared at him. Finally, he ventured, "You don't need to do this."
"Right," Mulder replied, dryly. "Like you weren't a trained KGB operative
working for the Syndicate all these years. Put them on."
"For God's sake. Look, Mulder, I—"
Mulder dug the gun into Krycek's leg, hard.
"Ow! Fuck, you don't have to—Here, I'm putting it on."
Mulder noticed Krycek's left arm. "I thought it was true. How'd you get your
arm back? No," he said, swiftly, "just the one wrist for now." Mulder stepped
closer and took out a second pair of handcuffs, snapping them onto Krycek's
right wrist. Attaching each of the other ends above Krycek's head to the
bedrail, leaving his arms apart, Mulder admired the sight. The covers were
still over him though. Krycek was wearing a white t-shirt and he wondered if he
should have had him remove it first, to slow him down in the event that Krycek
managed to somehow get loose. Oh well. It was unlikely at this point.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. "That's better," he said cheerfully. "You
gave me quite a run-around, you know. Now, your arm. I'm glad you have it back—but how'd it happen?"
"The aliens," Krycek said, in a low voice. "Grew me a new one and grafted it
on."
"How thoughtful."
"Not really."
Mulder wondered why Krycek would be so ungrateful but there were more pressing
matters. He reached up a hand to feel the back of Krycek's neck.
Krycek's response was to suck in a breath and flinch away from him.
Mulder locked eyes with him and slowly felt the back of his neck. "Just
checking. Don't panic."
Krycek snorted softly. "Right."
Mulder tried to ignore how warm Krycek's skin was, how nice it felt to touch his
neck. Mulder ignored the impulse to lean down and kiss him. This was
interesting territory. Krycek looked both scared and glad at the same time.
Mulder grinned as he pulled back, keeping his gun against Krycek's leg. He knew
he must have a wolfish expression. Krycek's gaze kept flicking past his
shoulder, his face strained and nervous. Good. Keep him off-balance. Mulder
had no idea what he was going to ask but it felt so nice to finally, at LAST,
have Krycek in a position where he had to answer him for once.
"So. I was right; you ARE still alive," Mulder said cheerfully.
"Yeah, but for how much longer?" The imperceptible trembling evident in his
arms that were held apart and over his head belied Krycek's sardonic tone.
"I haven't come here to kill you. You'd probably end up haunting me for real."
Krycek didn't respond, merely looked away, beyond Mulder at the chest of drawers
that had his gun. Krycek let out a breath.
Mulder regarded him. Krycek was probably wishing he'd slept with it under his
pillow. He looked over at the empty glass on the bedside table. "Vodka?" he
asked.
Krycek licked his lips. "It's weird, you know? I still get phantom pains in my
arm, even though I've got it back."
Mulder lifted his chin, nodding once. "What about you, though? The whole of
you? How'd you manage to survive? Last time I saw you was with a bullet in your
forehead."
A dark expression crossed Krycek's face, a shadow entering his eyes. They were
both remembering that fateful last encounter under the Hoover Building. "The
aliens. They... revived me. You've met them—you know what they're capable
of."
Mulder nodded. "The way I see it, you paid your dues with that, Alex. I'm not
here to kill you."
Krycek lifted his brows. "Then what're these in aid of?" He lifted his
clenched hands up, rattling the matching pair of cuffs against the metal railing
of the bed.
"The only way those'll kill you is if you start sawing yourself with them and
bleed to death. And I'll shoot you in the leg first if you try that, so I'd
advise against it. Those are just a preventative measure... Against you
escaping. Alex, the artifacts, those magic squares: they're responsible for
bringing us back together, here. I need to find the others, the ones you
acquired."
Krycek sighed. "I don't have them. Not anymore. I had them stashed away in
what I THOUGHT was a safe place but they've walked." He stopped at Mulder's
leer. "What? What is it?"
Mulder was now grinning broadly. "Just thinking of taking you up on that last
one... Seems we're in a perfect position for me to kiss YOUR ass, Alex."
Krycek went still. Very still. And swallowed. In a low voice, he said, "Not
if I'm laying on it. Mulder, c'mon. You don't need to do this—I'm not going
to run. There isn't any point. We both know you can find me wherever I go."
He was speaking faster as Mulder stood up. A satisfying note of panic entered
his voice. "You don't have to do this—" he let out a gasp as Mulder whipped
back the covers, revealing Krycek's white shorts and bare legs. "That's
better," Mulder said, sitting back down and letting the gun rest casually
against Krycek's hip.
Krycek's lips were pressed together in a tight line of displeasure. His
breathing had grown shallower.
"Now, where were we? This seems kind of familiar, almost." Mulder noted that
Krycek was no longer looking at him at all; he was fixedly staring up at the
ceiling instead. "We have a problem—we're both caught up in the same dream,
over and over again. The only way we can stop it from happening again is if we
work together, and resolve our outstanding issues."
"I don't have any conflict with you. I'd be very happy if you left. There's
the door."
Mulder pursed his lips. "Don't lie, Krycek. It's getting so old."
"I haven't lied to you in years," Krycek returned, bitterly. "I've actually
told you the truth, just about every single time our paths have crossed and—"
"A lie of omission is still a lie, Alex," Mulder pointed out, mildly. "I'm not
here to fight with you, either. I'm willing to forgive you for the past, for
your betrayal of me, for helping them take Scully, for my father's death, the
whole thing. Don't you see: this is an opportunity for both of us to wash our
hands of the mess our parents left us? We both have a new lease on life, a
second chance. Let's not waste it. We can work together on this."
A flicker of what looked like hope entered Krycek's eyes as he glanced at
Mulder. But he said, "How can you expect me to trust you when you have
everything to gain by having your revenge on me this way?"
"What way?" Mulder was lost.
Krycek's face hardened but he didn't answer.
"If you mean that you think I'll betray your trust in return for your betrayal
of ME, back when you were in the FBI, you're wrong. I won't. I'm trusting you
here, too, against my own better judgment. Even though everything about you is
reminding me that I shouldn't. But it's time to stop; don't you think? Alex,
I'm only here to talk. I give you my word."
Krycek's eyes narrowed. "Whatever. What do you want?"
"Jesus, haven't you been listening?" Mulder was starting to lose his temper.
"Reconciliation. Resolution. I can't forget what you did, but I can forgive.
Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
Krycek wet his dry lips with his tongue. The sight sent a little dart of
arousal shooting through Mulder's lower belly. A little voice with a wicked
undertone was whispering in the back of his mind, 'he's restrained, he's here,
he's at your mercy, and he wants you. You know he does. He's not afraid of
you, he's afraid of what you'll do if you know just how much wants you. And you
BOTH know it.'
Krycek was speaking, the undercurrents of fear and doubt running through his
voice. "You come in here and hold a gun on me, cuff me—and expect me to trust
you? Go to hell, Mulder."
Mulder pulled a face, impressed at his bravado. "You're right. We're not on an
equal footing here. Still, it's kind of familiar, wouldn't you agree?"
Krycek evidently grasped what Mulder was referring to: that night in his
apartment years back when Krycek had brought word of an alien rebel leader on an
Air Force base. His eyes widened. In fact, Mulder was sure of it. He
deliberately let his eyes rake slowly downward over Krycek's body, then back up
again to his face. "Seems to me there's another part of you that remembers,
too."
Krycek's partial arousal was evident from the front of his shorts. His
breathing had quickened but it stopped completely as Mulder brought up his other
hand to Krycek's erection. Krycek stared back at him, his cock lengthening and
hardening now in Mulder's hand to its full glory. Mulder smiled down at him.
Krycek caught his lower lip between his teeth, as Mulder tightened his grasp for
a moment then let go, withdrawing. In a low voice Krycek said, "What do you
WANT, Mulder?"
Mulder tilted his head. "Just hear me out. I want closure on you; I don't want
to keep dreaming about you every night. I know you want that too. We need to
find the other pieces of that ship and gather them in one place. The part of my
brain, that goes haywire when those things are around has been neutralized, so
I'm actually the perfect person to do it. But I can't do it alone, and you
collected them all before. I'm sure you can do it again. We both have a vested
interest in finding out why they brought us together and what they want."
Mulder absently tapped the gun against Krycek's hip, repeatedly, thinking aloud.
"I thought you were a ghost, haunting me, Alex. I don't want to spend the rest
of my nights tied to you. And we can help each other to resolve this conflict
that we've always had."
Krycek rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Get to the point. How do you suggest we
do that?"
"Hear me out. I realize now that my father made his own choices and reaped the
consequences of his own actions. So did my mother. I think you of all people
would understand that, seeing as your parents paid the price for their treachery
against the Soviets when you were a kid. But Alex, I know now that just as you
could forgive Arntzen for giving the orders for their execution, I can forgive
you for the same. And I figure that you've paid for your actions with your
death, last year."
Krycek let out a breath. It looked like it was from a mixture of relief and
stress.
Mulder continued, "You might not believe me, but I've always wanted closure—I
never wanted anything else. On my sister, on my mother, my father, even on that
smoking bastard. Even Deep Throat; all the people who've died... I guess the
only thing I can hope for is to resolve this thing between us so that we can put
all our ghosts to rest."
Krycek shifted in place, looking unsettled and restless, but he didn't
interrupt.
"I tried to make things work with Dana; she's been my partner, my friend, closer
than a lover or a sister, but I guess with the baby, she's finally got the life
and future that she wanted. Maybe in some strange way, we're both alike—two
satellites in an erratic orbit around a smaller world that doesn't really have
any place for us. Hell, even the aliens don't bother with us anymore. The
artifacts are the only things that seem to care that we're here, these days. I
don't—"
"Mulder," Krycek cut in with a bored tone. "Either shoot me or fuck me, but
please, shut up. Get to the point, already. If you keep talking in that same
tone of voice, endlessly..."
Mulder stared, wondering if he should get upset at this, rise to it... Somehow
though, he could see the humor in it. He smiled slowly. And picked up the gun
from where he'd let it rest on the bed beside them. "So my voice puts you to
sleep, huh? Should I be flattered? Or am I boring you?" He held up the gun
and looked at it, then at Krycek. "Are you still bored? Or have I got your
attention again?"
Krycek held his breath again, tensing warily. A definite expression of fear
settled on his face. "Jesus, Mulder, you don't have to—don't do this, you
don't need to. I heard you, I did. We can work this out—"
Mulder leaned away, putting the gun on the bedside table. "It's not loaded."
Krycek stared at him as the implication of this sank in.
"It was just a deterrent. I didn't want any scenes. Besides, I just wanted to
make sure you weren't going to shoot at ME. And this way, I got you to sit
still long enough to hear me out."
"You son of a bitch," Krycek said, partly angry, partly relieved. His hands
gripped the metal rail above his head.
"Yeah, I know. I'll let you go in a minute, but first, I'm going to do
something that I now realize I've wanted to do for a long time," Mulder
continued, leaning down, bringing his face closer to Krycek's.
Krycek held himself quite still, his face coloring as Mulder remained several
inches away. His throat convulsed as he swallowed.
"I think you've wanted it too, haven't you?" Mulder asked, quietly, scanning
his eyes. Krycek was trembling again.
Mulder smirked a little, leaning to close the distance and press his lips to
Krycek's, slowly. He let his mouth rest there, against Krycek's, feeling the
heat come over him, washing over him, leaving him breathless and achingly hard.
Warm, firm, soft lips under his. Sweet, quiet—and with a feeling of mounting
tension like a coiled spring, this thing between them, brought into sharp relief
as he remained there, unmoving, letting the kiss go on...and on....and on...
Finally, he pulled away. Krycek opened his own eyes to look up at him,
surprised and looking a little defensive and vulnerable. There was a question
in them that Mulder wanted to answer. He brought up one hand to cup Krycek's
cheek, touching his face, thoughtfully. His voice was rougher than he expected
as he said, "Was that what you wanted?"
Krycek replied with a question of his own. "Was it what YOU wanted?"
Mulder smiled. "Yeah. You don't look disappointed, though."
Krycek's eyes fluttered. "Oh, but I am. Try it again."
Snickering, Mulder took Krycek's face in both hands and leaned down to kiss him
again, this time feeling Krycek's lips part and a tentative tongue-tip flick
against his.
Fuck. Warmth, wet, so good...and lips moving against his, getting crushed
beneath his own, and mutual inhalations of quickening desperation as Krycek's
mouth opened wider, letting Mulder taste him, all of him. He moaned into
Krycek's mouth, feeling Alex's answering moan as Krycek lifted his head to meet
him, despite the fact that Mulder was pushing him down against the pillow.
Their tongues were flailing against each other, and then he found he was licking
Alex's lips, nibbling on them. It was hungry, urgent, hot and finally Mulder
knew he was going to have to stop unless he wanted to climb atop Alex and just
rut against him. Indeed, his mind was whirling now and he honestly couldn't
come up with any reasons why he shouldn't do just that.
Some niggling sense of propriety whispered to him, however, that it might be
better to wait and do it... properly. Later. Besides, he was feeling a bit
lightheaded. He'd never kissed a guy before. Sure, it wasn't just any guy, it
was Alex. Alex Krycek. But still.
And then he laughed. "Alex, you look—pissed off. What's the matter? Wasn't
I any good?"
"What, you're just going to leave me like this?" Krycek was glaring at him,
looking a little mussed. Also, his hard-on was tenting his shorts, poking
upwards rather obviously.
Mulder licked his lips, weighing the possibilities. He knew Krycek desired him,
but the reality of being here, with him, and the thought of actually having sex
with him was something that he found he actually wasn't really ready for. In
fact, truth be told, he was kind of frightened at how strong it was... This
desire. This—want.
And Krycek had already known how he felt for Mulder all this time—Mulder
hadn't really come to terms with it until recently. It was shocking to him just
exactly HOW perfect and right it was, to be kissing Alex.
Jesus. Kissing Alex Krycek.
Mulder knew that Alex wouldn't run now, though. They hadn't fucked yet. He
smirked a little and took the key to both sets of cuffs out of the pocket of his
jeans. He undid the cuffs.
"Now you DO look disappointed," Mulder observed, nonchalantly.
Alex rubbed both his wrists in turn, scowling at Mulder. He got up quickly and
went to pull on his jeans. He put on a pair of socks next. "Well, so much for
a good night's sleep."
Mulder watched him dressing. "Why can't we stay here?"
Alex glowered at him. "No. Not after what you just pulled. Come on, let's go
get coffee or something."
Mulder shrugged. "Okay. My internal clock is shot to hell, anyway."
Sitting in the diner, Mulder thoughtfully watched Alex watching the people
passing by the window on the street. Alex kept flicking his eyes at them,
obviously keeping alert for possible trouble. Outside, the early morning sky
was filling with busy grey clouds.
Mulder regarded him. "We have to find all the pieces of the ship, all the magic
squares. We need to gather all of them in one place and see if they fit
together somehow. Who knows, it might even be like a jigsaw puzzle. Literally.
So we can prove that this dream phenomenon is linked to them. I don't know how
yet, but there's got to be a way for us to prove that they have an effect on us.
Some kind of energy field or something."
Alex sighed and looked down at his plate, toying with his fork in the food.
"You know, Fox, that's one of the things about you that I've never quite figured
out. Why do you have to—?" He paused. "Look, you want to believe so badly,
you spend all your time trying to gather evidence that what you want so
desperately to believe is really out there, confirmation that your theories are
correct. You're like a half-assed version of Scully—"
"Ouch." Mulder's eyes twinkled. "Thanks. And your point would be what; that I
display the need for proof but none of the method? Alex, are you trying to tell
me that I lack discipline?"
Dryly, Alex replied, "You lack faith."
"Oh? Give me one example. Go on," he urged, the glint in his eye taking on a
more angry sparkle.
Alex frowned. "Okay. The Loch Ness Monster."
Mulder's eyebrows shot up. He didn't know whether to accept that this was
surprising coming from Alex, that it turned him on, or that he found it
embarrassing that he was both excited and surprised. "You've got my attention."
Alex glanced up at him with a sardonic expression. "Right." He looked at
Mulder, leaving the impression that Mulder's eyes distracted him or he was about
to try to formulate some deep thought. Probably both, Mulder thought with a
slight thrill in his lower belly. It was too gratifying to know that Alex felt
so strongly about him.
"Let's hypothesize for a moment. You receive a report that someone has managed
to get a detailed screen capture of the thing in Loch Ness that all the locals
and their uncles claim to have seen glimpses of throughout the years. You want
to believe it's the real deal but already people are saying that the WebCams are
fallible and that... Well, you know the rest. It's just a hoax. A pretty
picture lacking just enough determinability to get you hooked and everyone else
up in arms trying to refute it."
Mulder's mouth twisted in a half-smile, half-grimace. "Yeah. I can see that
happening." He couldn't begin to admit just how much he already wished this
hypothetical scenario were occurring for real.
Alex regarded him patiently. "You already want to go, don't you? Jesus Christ."
He shook his head and flicked his gaze at the window again. "Mulder, I don't
need to go. I have absolutely no desire to go. And NOT because I don't
believe. I have no doubt that there is some anomalous creature, most probably a
prehistoric beast of some kind, swimming around in that lake. It doesn't bother
me and I don't bother it. Tell me WHY it is that you now have the burning
desire to fly to Scotland and investigate this thing. We already know what it
is. We don't need to try to find it. It's a fucking plesiosaur, Mulder... Why
can't we just leave it alone?"
Mulder licked his lips. Damn. He heaved a sigh. "Because it isn't enough to
have faith."
Now Alex's eyebrows climbed upwards. "Then it's not true faith, or you wouldn't
need to question it. I accept it, and that's good enough for me."
Mulder was shaking his head. "Even Scully, with her seeming contradiction of
scientific method and Christian beliefs, has seen the Ivory Coast ship. She saw
it with her own eyes, touched it. Spending all those years working on the
X-Files with me HAS given her some open-mindedness towards strange phenomena.
But even she would agree that unless we have the thing there, in front of us,
with documented proof of its existence, that we can't know for sure exactly what
it is!"
Alex smirked at him. "Sure, Fox. So tell me why it is that with a kiss and a
gun on you that night in your apartment all those years ago you'll accept it as
a concrete truth that extra-terrestrials exist...And accept it from ME, no less—
your mortal enemy at the time?"
Mulder reached up a finger and tapped the side of his head. "Intuition. And
right now, mine is telling me that the relics are the proof of both scientific
and religious belief systems having an equal standing, a marriage of opposites.
The relics bring both together in a convergent balance."
"I have no problem with that either. What I do have a problem with is your
predilection for running off half-cocked, unprepared, without back up and with
little regard for your own well-being. You don't need to go anywhere or do
anything. That the ship has vanished without a trace into the depths of the
ocean where's it has been sitting for the last four billion years. You know it,
and I know it. It isn't going to help us if you're running around batting at
ancient wasps' nests again. Let the artifacts find their own way around—they've already proven that they do. And stop looking so innocent—I know you,
Mulder. You're already planning how to track down more of them." Alex pinned
him with a glare. "Scully IS a saint, because she put up with your behavior for
so long. Anyone else would have left."
Mulder's eyes narrowed as he returned the gaze. "You wouldn't."
One dark brow lifted. "You think not?"
Mulder's mouth slowly spread in a smile. "Yeah. Because you love me. You
wouldn't desert me, any more than she did. Come on, Alex. Where's your sense
of adventure?"
Alex closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. "Do you have any idea of just
how irritating you are?"
Mulder chewed on his lower lip, thoughtfully. "I can be even more irritating."
He managed to silently pull off his right boot under the table and lifted his
leg beneath the table, encountering Alex's thigh, and then began inching
forward. He was rewarded with Alex shooting him a surprised look of
exasperation and dismay, and was then treated to the equally satisfying sight of
Alex twisting slightly in his seat. Alex was looking around them, probably in
the hopes that no one else had noticed just how interesting their conversation
had become.
With a grin, Mulder murmured, "How am I doing? Is this more irritating than you
thought me capable of?"
But with his sock-covered foot pressing and toeing between Alex's legs, and
Alex's knees parting to give him better access, he hadn't counted on Alex's
reaction. Alex visibly swallowed as Mulder's toes gently encountered his
swelling hardness packed in the denim of his jeans. His eyes widened as he
stared at Mulder, their discussion abruptly dropped. Mulder was taken aback at
the sheer lust in Alex' face. The man looked like a dark animal, flared and
alert, aroused to the point of pouncing. Mulder was suddenly aware that he was
teasing a panther.
Indeed, the sudden growl that Alex emitted, while shifting in his seat, made him
nearly pull his foot back. Alex's eyes glittered as he stared back at Mulder.
"Prick-tease."
The accusation was fair, actually, considering their previous clinch. Mulder's
mind whirled abruptly. It had only been a few hours since he'd finally caught
up with him.
Alex frowned at him, quizzically, noting his change of expression.
Mulder was brought back to himself and the current moment with a rush, realizing
that his foot was still pressed against Alex's erection between his legs. He
drew a breath, wondering how he could resolve this desperately urgent desire to
fuck Alex over the table that separated them. His own cock was at half-mast; it
twitched and lengthened even more. Warmth collected in his lower belly and he
swallowed at the curious, open look in Alex's eyes. To his surprise, Alex
dropped his gaze to the table before them and a red blush colored his cheeks.
Alex licked his lips, obviously feeling off-balance.
Mulder withdrew his foot and attempted to slide it back into his boot. "Should
we be thinking of pursuing more of the relics, or getting back to your hotel
room?" He leaned down to tie his laces. "Or both?"
Alex said, "You're lucky we're in a public place, Mulder."
Mulder straightened and noted Alex's continued interest, the flushed face and
dilated pupils. "Or unlucky, from another perspective."
Alex sighed and stood up, dropping extra coins on the table. "Let's get out of
here."
As they made their way back towards the hotel along the sidewalk, Mulder said,
"We could go and collect the first artifact. I have it safe, in Martha's
Vineyard."
A little shadow crossed Alex's face at the mention of Mulder's father's house,
however. "How the hell do you propose we find the others, when there have been
no signs whatsoever that they've resurfaced anywhere? Seems to me that the
artifact merely helped you resolve your own issues about me, and seeing as I'm
alive, helped lead you to me."
Mulder shook his head briefly, thinking. "No, it's more than that. I can feel
it. I don't know how. Trust me on this one. I'm right. We should go get it
and let it lead us to the others."
But when they went to the reception desk in the hotel, the concierge approached
them and said, "A FedEx courier is here, waiting for you. A package arrived
here, addressed to an F. Mulder, at Mr. Kruschev's room number?" He glanced
between Krycek and Mulder, who exchanged a glance of their own.
Mulder stepped forward. "I'm Mulder." The concierge pointed out the waiting
courier in the lobby. Mulder went up to the man who said, "You're F. Mulder?
Can you sign here, please?"
"Thanks," he said, absently, noting that it was the same package he'd sent to
the Vineyard, the one containing the artifact.
He looked up at Alex. "This is...odd. Let's go upstairs."
They went up in the elevator, accompanied by a couple of elderly women who kept
batting their eyes at the two of them and nudging each other and whispering.
Mulder glanced back at Alex who was smirking. Some little demon seized Mulder
and as the elevator chimed, stopping at their floor, he turned to Alex and
grabbed him by the arm, leaning over to kiss him on the mouth with a resounding
smacking sound. "Come on, darling," Mulder said. "This is our stop."
Alex blinked and then shook his head slightly, following him out of the elevator
and down the hallway. Mulder glanced back and saw the two women staring after
them with wide eyes and open mouths. He chuckled to himself.
Alex opened the door and let Mulder in, then came in after him and shut and
locked the door behind them. Mulder turned and found Alex abruptly seizing him,
both arms going around him as Alex kissed him fiercely, demandingly, ravaging
his mouth and moving to work on his lower lip.
Mulder couldn't help a groan as Alex's tongue slid between his lips again and
again to slide against his own. He could feel the delirium building in him as
he gradually became lost in this kiss, feeling his own passion rising, Krycek's
leg pressing in between his legs, against him, feeling his cock hardening
against Krycek's thigh...
Alex stepped back suddenly, releasing him, leaving Mulder swaying slightly as
his brain worked to catch up. Alex grinned at him. "Sorry, DARLING. Did I get
you going?" He let his gaze drop to Mulder's jeans and then travel back up
again, his grin not diminishing. "Oh, dear. So sorry to leave you wanting."
Mulder stood stupidly, feeling foolish at having fallen prey to exactly what
he'd just subjected Alex to, barely a few moments before. "Um," he said. Then
looked down at the package he still held in his hand. Right. He tore it open.
There it was, in all its ambiguous majesty, with the alien symbols taunting them
in the daylight. Mulder sighed and fished out his cell-phone.
After some enquiries, Mulder discovered that by some bizarre chance, the post
office had grown confused. One of their employees had accidentally returned the
artifact to Mulder at his Alexandria address by Federal Express but then en
route, FedEx's computers had freakishly sent the package to the Clarion Airport
Hotel in Minneapolis, there to await a signature.
Mulder put his phone away and regarded Alex who was laying back against the
headboard with his legs crossed before him at the ankles, his boots on the bed.
"How the hell did the artifact know we'd both be here? At this room number, no
less?"
Krycek's arms were folded across his chest and he gave a little shrug. "Who
knows? They seem to have a life of their own, though."
Mulder shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Well, it's here.
We've got it again, for better or for worse. Maybe we should just go home; wait
for the others to arrive." He looked up at Alex.
Alex didn't meet his eyes.
"What do you think?"
Alex cleared his throat. "I'm not going back with you. Are you kidding?" At
Mulder's wounded and accusatory glance, he gave Mulder a disparaging look.
"Come on, d'you think I've lost all sense of self-preservation? Imagine what
would happen if Skinner or Scully or someone else were to come by and find me
there, in YOUR apartment? They'd shoot first and ask questions later."
Mulder sighed. "Okay, Martha's Vineyard, then."
Alex shook his head. "I'm not stepping foot in that house again. Sorry."
"My mother's house, in Greenwich—"
"Are you nuts? That place is still under surveillance, as a known hot-spot.
Until it's sold and off the market... Mulder, there are some people who still
regard both your parents' places as convenient meeting sites. They're watched
accordingly. Don't tell me you didn't know that."
"So, where WILL you go with me?" Mulder exclaimed. "Do you have a better
idea?"
"Why can't we just stay right here?" Alex sounded matter-of-fact but Mulder
could see him closing up again. He could practically see the shutters coming
down, the walls coming back up.
"Okay, okay. The first artifact found its way here; we'll wait for the others.
For a while."
"You're tired," Alex observed.
Mulder looked back at him and sighed through his nose. "Yeah. And so are you.
It's been a while since I had a decent amount of sleep. It hasn't been easy
trying to catch up with you."
"Hasn't been easy running from you."
"We could have saved ourselves the hassle, I think. YOU could have let me catch
up sooner."
Alex smiled. "Yeah? You think? How was I to know that you didn't want to kill
me OR fuck me but just sit around playing footsie and scandalizing little old
ladies in hotels? Not to mention your predilection for forced sex fantasies
involving handcuffs and unloaded weapons."
"I did NOT force you to have sex with me," Mulder countered, a little
embarrassed.
"Tell me about it. I think you've managed to lead me on about three times now.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to have to force YOU." Alex stopped with
deliberation, and threw Mulder another knowing glance, one that was hot enough
to stop Mulder in his tracks and make him wonder if he'd ducked, would the paint
have been scorched on the wall behind him. "Or is that what you're waiting for,
Fox? Go on, get out the cuffs again. And this time, put them on yourself. I
promise I won't leave you hanging. Much. Although, I do wonder what kinds of
sounds you'd make if you were begging me to let you come."
Alex's voice had grown husky, sending telltale shivers over Mulder's skin as he
pondered Alex's suggestion. He licked his lips.
Alex stopped, his eyes widening as he realized Mulder was taking him seriously.
Mulder found himself grinning. He couldn't help it. "Do you want me to fuck
you, Alex?"
"Is that a trick question?" Alex countered. But Mulder could see that Alex was
noticing the shift from banter and flirting to something a lot more intense, a
nearly palpable charge in the air between them.
Mulder felt his own erection gaining impetus again; it hadn't really fully
dissipated from before and the thought of kissing Alex again was very appealing.
The realization that they WERE going to end up having sex in here, and probably
sooner rather than later, was enough to make his cock leap in his jeans and his
pulse quicken.
Alex moistened his lips and suggested, "Mulder, why don't join me, over here?"
Mulder's cell-phone rang. They both sighed in unison. Alex chuckled quietly as
Mulder answered it. "Mulder." He shot a glance at Alex. "Hey, hi, Scully.
Uh, sorry. Dana. How're things?... No, I'm fine. Just taking a break. Yeah...
Of course... Yeah... Really?...Jesus... You're kidding...No... Yeah...Okay...
Right. Well, can you hold onto it for me? I'll come get it when I get
back...I'm not sure, a few days... Yeah...Okay...Thanks... Bye."
He put the phone away and said, "Scully has a very interesting package for me.
She said it came addressed to me at her house, and it was open. She had a look
just out of curiosity, thinking it was something FBI-related and, what do you
know, it's one of the artifacts."
Alex considered him. "I'd say it's telling us we should go back."
"Yeah."
And then Alex smiled at him. "...'A few days', huh?"
Mulder felt heat flood into his face. "Well, I thought, why go back
immediately, you know?"
"No, I don't. What, were you thinking we could hang out up here, having wild
sex and acting out all of the fantasies we've had about each other the years,
before going home?" Alex was grinning at him, enjoying his discomfiture.
"Something like that. Why not?" Mulder stood his ground, even though he could
feel his knees weakening.
Jesus. This thing between them—it was like wildfire—it destroyed his
capacity for rational thought. All he could think about was what it would feel
like to be up close and personal with Alex, their naked bodies entwined and
rubbing against each other, skin on skin...
"Where were we?" he asked.
Alex laughed. "You were going to join me here on the bed." And then he yawned.
"Yeah, yeah, I was. That's right. Okay." Mulder started taking off his shirt.
He unzipped his jeans and began to peel them off. He encountered his own boots
in the process and bent down to undo the laces.
Alex was staring at him. "What are you doing?"
"Joining you. On the bed." He pulled off his jeans and boots and then his
socks. His cock was stiffly poking against his boxers, prominently. Alex's
eyes kept shifting. In fact, it looked like he could barely tear his eyes from
the sight, trying to keep his gaze fixed on Mulder's face. "Actually, in the
bed," Mulder added, moving to the bed and lifting back the covers to slide
between them.
Alex bit his lip and muttered, "I don't know about you, but I'm clean. I'm
safe. Haven't got laid since I was revived. What about you?" He turned to look
down at Mulder, his eyes inadvertently roving down to take in Mulder's raised
left knee, which lifted the covers up over his hard cock.
"I'm a safe bet, Alex. Have you got any lube?"
Alex took a breath, the sound hissing slightly. "Mulder, I—"
"Just get the lube, Alex. And turn off the light. And shut the curtains."
Alex did as he was told. And then stripped quickly, efficiently, nearly
fumbling in his haste to get his clothing off.
Getting into the bed beside Mulder, he lay on his back and said in a low voice,
"Been wanting this, been thinking about it for so long—I don't know."
"What? Don't tell me you're having second thoughts?"
"No, I just—I don't—" He stopped. "Mulder, I don't want you to regret this.
If it isn't what you want, if you aren't ready—"
Mulder lifted up and turned to take Alex in both hands, by his shoulders,
holding him down against the bed under him and silencing him very effectively
with a deep, searing, bone-melting kiss. He pulled back and whispered, "I do.
I want it. I want you. I think I always have. I've just—been hiding from
it, is all. From you. From how much I wanted you. I was always so angry, I
took it out on you. It was such an ego-boost, such a comfort, to finally have
the illusion that someone looked up to me, actually believed in what I was
doing. When you betrayed me, you took that away. And I was left with the
uncomfortable feeling of wanting it back, wanting you back. I didn't want to
want you. That's why I used to hit you. But I don't...I won't hit you again,
Alex. I promise."
Alex's eyes had grown suspiciously bright during his little speech and he
blinked a few times. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For everything, Mulder. God."
He bit his lips and brought his arms up to hold Mulder against him. They ended
up turning on their sides, Alex clutching him tightly.
"I know. I know you are. It's alright, Alex," Mulder murmured, knowing that
quite possibly, this was the only thing that would ever heal the rift between
them.
And then he felt wetness dripping down his skin, on his shoulder, as Alex
pressed his face against him. "Just don't hate me anymore. Please—I can't
stand it when you hate me." Alex's voice was hoarse, rough—it brought a sharp
sting to the backs of Mulder's eyelids in sympathy.
"I don't. I don't hate you." Mulder kissed Alex's head, ran his hands through
the short hair, his hand trailing to touch his ear, and come to rest against the
side of his neck, then down to his back. God, to enjoy the luxury of allowing
himself the pleasure...of clasping Alex against him, in his arms, to feel the
solid warmth and smooth beauty of him. To go ahead and relish the liquid desire
that gathered in his belly and his legs, his groin, to feel—not alone. No
longer alone.
Alex whispered something into his chest and Mulder asked, "What? What did you
say?"
Alex lifted his head and sniffled. "It wasn't a lie. It wasn't an act. I
really did look up to you. I did believe in you—I didn't have to act. But by
then, I was in too deep and really, I could see the forces that were arrayed
against you. They were already playing you, Mulder, pulling your strings. It
was a losing battle. At least, I thought it was."
Mulder sighed. "In the end, I guess you were right."
"I wish to God I hadn't been."
"I know. But maybe this is what the artifacts, your magic squares, were trying
to tell me, to tell us... That THIS is a better ending. That regardless of what
may happen in the end, it's better that we resolved this together. You know?"
"Yeah." Alex didn't say anything more though, merely pressed in tighter against
him, holding Mulder almost as if he expected this to be the one and only time
he'd be offered such an opportunity.
Mulder winced as the pressure grew so great now in his balls, his cock almost
painfully hard, he said, "Alex, if I don't come soon..."
Alex brought his leg up, resting his knee against Mulder's hip, bringing their
cocks into contact. "You're big, Mulder. Use your fingers first." He handed
Mulder the tube of lube.
Mulder hummed appreciatively in his throat, reaching down to undo it and squeeze
an amount on his fingers. The anticipation was too much. "I hope I last long
enough," he muttered.
Alex grabbed his hand by the wrist, bringing it down between them, guiding him
to the crack of his ass. Mulder slid his fingers along it, marveling at the
peach-skin texture of the smoothness there, upwards to the furred velvet of his
balls—and then slid the tip of his slick finger into the tight little hole,
loving the way Alex gasped.
"Jesus, Alex," he breathed, moving his fingertip in and out, sliding a little
farther and deeper inside with each stroke. The inside of Alex was silky soft
and clutching at his finger, and hot, so hot—oh God, the thought of sliding
his COCK into this was just... He encountered a little nub inside Alex and
pressed against it gently, stroking it.
Yep, he'd got it right, for Alex arched against him, a choked moan emitting from
Alex's throat as it if were drawn out of him, by the action of Mulder's fingers
in Alex's ass. "Mulder, God, fuck—don't—I'll—"
Mulder slid his finger out and looked back up into Alex's face.
"Mulder, if you're gonna do it, do it now." Alex's voice was dripping with
urgency and lust, his eyes grown quite feverish and his mouth open, breathing
hard.
Hell, who was HE to deny either of them at this point? Mulder arose, getting up
to lean on one elbow and then finally sitting up all the way to move between
Alex's legs, grabbing blindly for the lube and pushing Alex's knees up and
apart, ignoring his exclamation. Settling between Alex's thighs, he quickly
slicked lube all over his hard, weeping prick. The thought of where it was
about to go was almost enough to bring him off right there. He was vibrating
with the tension running like an electric current through him.
Bringing his cock to slide along Alex's crack now, up and down, he couldn't help
a snigger as Alex writhed against him, trying to make him push into his eager
ass. "Fox, fuck me. Now." Alex's voice was low, grating, almost a warning—a
threat.
Grinning down at him, Mulder obediently slid the head of his cock into that
tight and oh so hot passage.. "Ohhhh, yes. I'm gonna fuck you, Alex. Yeah.
And bareback, too. God." He gulped, trying to control himself, afraid of
sliding forcefully into Alex all the way.
After all, he could sympathize—he'd be pretty scared at this point himself,
that he'd be fucked too fast, too hard, before he was ready.
But Alex seemed slightly enraged at this and said, petulantly, almost angrily,
desperately, "So help me, Mulder, if you don't fuck me properly, right now, I'll
do it myself."
Mulder slid forward a few more inches into him, shutting Alex up, and made sure
his cock wasn't about to come out by accident, then leaned forward, grabbing
Alex by the wrists and slamming his arms up, by the side of his head. "I'd like
to see you try." He held Alex's arms down with more weight and then slid
forward into him harder, feeling Alex's anus give and the tight ring relax
around him. Alex couldn't reply; he was too busy trying to get air back into
his lungs after Mulder's spearing movement into him.
"You want it, Alex? I'll give it to you, what you've been waiting for, what
you've wanted all these years. Fuck, oh fuck, oh God," and he drew back
slightly, only to let himself sink forward again, going deeper yet, eliciting
the most delicious whimpers and groans from the man under him.
Alex was panting open-mouthed, straining desperately against him. Mulder began
to thrust in earnest now, faster, harder, deeper. "Please, t-touch me—" Alex's
right hand tried to struggle free from Mulder's grip. He let go of both of
Alex's wrists and moved to position himself up, to go ahead and let himself
grind his cock into Alex's satiny hot ass over and over, plunging into him so
hard that he felt his balls quiver each time. Alex looped one arm up to hold
Mulder's waist and brought his legs up to press his heels against Mulder's
buttocks. Alex reached down one hand to grab his own cock and began a frantic
motion.
He was fucking Alex... Fucking Alex Krycek... To finally have him, to have this
ass that had taunted him beneath those jeans all this time, to finally take this
ass that had sauntered saucily around him, Alex's nearly unconscious sexuality
seducing him every single damned time they'd met... To finally be able to let go
and take what he wanted... "Alex!" His cry was nearly a sob.
Mulder knew it wouldn't be long now, he wanted to come inside of Alex, to enjoy
the fact that he was no longer denied this sensation, this pleasure—and then
there was Alex's hoarse shout ringing in his ears as he felt the spattering of
Alex's hot cream against him, the convulsive rippling of Alex's orgasm as his
ass clenched around Mulder's cock with every deep thrust.
Mulder's own climax followed. He felt it like an electric shock, a hot fiery
wave that crashed over him with a screaming pleasure, white-hot and
uncontrollable as he jerked over and over into Alex. His face contorted and he
heard his own yell and groans as if from far away, his hearing fading
momentarily with the pure pulsing throb of his orgasm.
Gradually, he realized he was only twitching occasionally inside of Alex still,
and his arms were growing tired, nearly shaking from the strain. He moaned and
let himself down to rest on his elbows, then laying against Alex's chest,
letting his already-softening cock slide out of him as Alex's legs slid down to
join his.
Too mutually exhausted to move, they stayed like that for a while. But
eventually, Mulder realized he had to move, else he'd grow too heavy for Alex.
He began to lift himself up but Alex wrapped his arms around him. "Don't.
Just—just stay here."
"Don't want to crush you," Mulder began, but Alex tightened his hold.
"You're not. Don't move."
Mulder relaxed, letting himself drift back to that contented, sated place; for
once no longer struggling, no longer fighting—not Alex, not himself, not his
problems. For once, everything seemed...okay.
No dreams, just drift, in peaceful slumber.
When he opened his eyes, the room was bright. The curtains were open. Alex was
laying beside him, watching him sleep. They were still in bed, between the
covers. Alex looked away.
Mulder wondered if it were Alex who'd ended up regretting this. He felt great,
himself. "What time is it?" he asked, in a voice rough from screaming and
sleep.
Alex didn't look back at him. "It's nearly noon."
"Erg." Mulder threw an arm up to cover his eyes and exhaled loudly. "Need
more, I think. Sleep, I mean."
There was no reply. He frowned, bringing his arm down to look over at Alex
again. From what he could tell, Alex looked pensive, serious, a permanent frown
gracing his otherwise lovely face.
"You're beautiful, Alex, did you know that?" Mulder said.
Alex didn't answer.
Jesus. Whatever the fuck was wrong NOW? Mulder sat up, stretched and yawned.
"We already had breakfast. I don't know—shall we order in? Get lunch? Go
out? What do you want to do?"
Alex said, "We should go back. Pick up the other artifact from Scully's place."
Mulder shot him a look. "What the fuck is your problem? What's the matter?"
Alex got up out of bed. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt again. He pulled
on his jeans and went to go stand by the window.
"Fine. Don't speak to me." Mulder sighed in exasperation and got up. "I need
a shower," he declared, and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him
firmly.
Hm. Maybe Alex had a point, maybe he was worrying about what this really meant,
about what it represented and whether or not they actually had anything that
might go beyond a quick bout of fucking and a few hours in each other's arms.
He finished the shower though with the renewed hope that in dissipating the
tension between them with sex, maybe they didn't have to be enemies anymore.
Maybe they could be friends. Or maybe that was expecting too much, both from
Alex AND from himself. Maybe they could relax the strife and tense moments and
just let be, let live and let go.
But he was so tired of being lonely. Here was at least one other person, maybe
the only other person in the world who could truly understand what they'd been
through to make it to this present moment. He toweled himself dry, wondering if
maybe it hadn't been all that Alex had expected.
Maybe they were deluding themselves into thinking that sex would heal their
conflict. But he had forgiven Alex—had in fact forgiven him before, when he'd
thought his past nemesis was dead and haunting him from beyond the grave. The
relief that had come over him at finding Alex still alive and then finally
tracking him down here in this lonely hotel on the edge of the airport on the
edge of international departures... It had been overwhelming. He didn't want to
let Alex go. This realization brought him up short. He emerged, the towel
around his waist, half-expecting to find Alex gone.
Nope, still moping by the window. He began to get dressed, pulling on his
boxers and his jeans. Then his socks. "Alex, what? Was it not what you'd hoped
for? Did the dream vanish with the cold harsh reality of day? Or what?"
Alex regarded him, watched him putting on his shirt and retrieving his boots
from the floor. "So what happens now? Do we move in together, pick out
wallpaper? Argue over what videos to rent? Take turns doing the laundry?"
Mulder stopped and turned to face him again. "If that's a marriage proposal,
I'll have to think about it. Give me some time. Look, level with me. What IS
it?"
Alex looked away from him, out the window. "I think I was a fool, wanting to
believe that we could resolve our differences this way, that you'd be able to
forgive me if you fucked me."
"Don't be so melodramatic. This doesn't have to be a problem." Mulder went to
stand beside him, looking out the window at the clouds, bright and high, white
and reflecting the sun. He reached out and put his arm around Alex's shoulders.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe we should go back. But I thought you'd want to stay
here at least a little while, work things out. I know I do."
Alex didn't look at him. Mulder glanced at him out of the corner of his eye,
still facing the window. The pure pain and look of hopelessness, the fatalism
on Alex's face... Jesus. He frowned, considering. "I've thought about it and
I'll take you up on that proposal of yours."
Alex frowned. "What proposal?"
"Well, maybe my ears deceived me but you did say something about marriage,
didn't you?"
Alex tensed under his arm. "You said it, I didn't."
"Okay. We can take it one day at a time, if you'd prefer. But I didn't hunt
you down all this way just to have you go off and ditch me in a fit of pique.
And besides, the alien relics brought us together—you really think they'll let
you go? Don't fight it. We both know that you don't really want to."
Alex pulled away from Mulder's arm and turned, leaning back against the
windowsill, glaring at him, his arms folded defensively across his chest.
Mulder looked down. Alex was still barefoot. He had lovely feet, actually.
Nice toes. He wondered if Alex's feet were ticklish, if he'd squirm if he
sucked on those toes...
"So, why don't you tell me how long I have, before it all comes home to roost
for you, Mulder? How long before you remember that I'm a rat-bastard,
bottom-dwelling scumbag son of a bitch? The one who shot your father? The
bastard who was controlling Skinner, and helped them abduct your partner? That
guy? Not the one who kissed you but... You know, the one who you watched die in
front of you, a year ago?" Alex's voice lacked any kind of force though; he
sounded like he was repeating a litany of expected curses.
"Is THAT what this is about? Alex, I told you: I don't hate you, I forgive you.
I meant it. What, did you think I was just saying it to get you to let me fuck
you, is that it?"
Alex stared back at him, seriously. "This thing between us... What do you want
it to be?"
"If this is some twisted idea of yours to offer me a way out, I'm finding it
kind of insulting. What, do you think I do this all the time, sleeping with the
enemy and having revenge on them by breaking their hearts after getting them let
down their guard? You should know better; I've rarely had the time to get laid
with anyone, let alone cultivate dangerous liaisons with ex-Syndicate players
and alien-consorting adversaries."
Alex swallowed, his face darkened and he looked away.
Mulder realized that was precisely what Alex feared. They'd done the deed, and
now Mulder could walk away having broken through Alex's defenses, taking
advantage of the fact that he knew that Alex... was in love with him.
He let out a breath and stepped up to take Alex by the arms, slowly, holding his
gaze. Okay. This WAS scary, admittedly. But if Alex could do it, so could he.
"I love you. I want you; I don't want to lose you after finally finding you.
Please, Alex. Stay. Please. Stay with me."
Alex looked back at him, into his eyes, obviously looking for any sign of
evasion or intimidation. "Are you saying that now because you feel obliged to,
or because you want me to—to live with you?"
"I'll live with you, or you can live with me, as long as we're living together,"
Mulder stated, slowly. "Just get this into your thick head: I want you. And
no, I'm not saying this because I feel obliged to in any way. I'm in love with
you. And I'll tell you something else," he accented this by gripping Alex
harder and giving him a little shake, "if you run, there isn't anywhere you can
hide. The artifacts helped us to get to the point of realizing that we WANT to
be together. Whatever residual issues and concerns about our past we share, we
can work them out as we go along. But let's stop pretending, okay?"
"What would you have said if I'd sought you out before now, come to you and
suggested all this?" Alex countered. "You'd have kicked my ass instead of
fucking it."
Mulder stopped, realizing that, yes, indeed, it would have been hard to swallow
if Alex Krycek had come to him and suggested—this. He made a face. "Alright,
I'll concede that. You're right. It wouldn't have been as easy. I probably
would have taken longer to accept it, myself. But don't tell me you don't want
it, because you... I know that you do."
Alex smiled a little wistfully and finally reaching up and stepping closer to
pull Mulder to him. Hugging him, Alex said, "Are you kidding? I think I want
you more now than I ever have before. It wasn't exactly love at first sight,
you know. Lust, maybe. It took a while to grow. Took a while before I
realized what had happened. But now... Jesus, Mulder."
Mulder just held him tighter, and closed his eyes, enjoying the intimacy, the
warmth and the feeling of being held back, having his longing for this returned,
requited... the sensation of feeling Alex's voice reverberating through both of
them. "Took ME damned near forever. I don't think I actually realized it until
I found you, caught up with you here," he replied.
And he glanced up, over Alex's shoulder, his eyes landed on the artifact where
it sat on the table there by the window, beside them. And wondered what else it
could do, if it could bring two men who'd been enemies for so long, with such
deep-seated reasons for conflict between them, to resolve their issues and
choose love instead.
Magic Square III
by Jami Wilsen
From Jacksonville to Salt Lake City, Milwaukee to San Diego, no matter where the
fuck I go, he's there in my dreams. Drawing me out, grinning at me, trying to
goad me into slipping up and betraying some indication of where I am. He's
right on my tail, only a few steps behind. I called in a favor a couple days
ago and what do you know; he was in San Diego looking for me at the hotel I'd
stayed in. He's figured out I just stick close to the airports.
