What Krycek Is THIS?
I just couldn't let him down.
He returns to the table—a large table—that he appropriated as soon as we
arrived at the Wolf—bearing drinks for each of us. Settles next to me and
smiles that VERY irritating smile he's been sporting on and off ever since I
agreed to accompany him tonight. Fucker won't even give me a clue as to what
this is all about—what devious plan he has up his sleeve.
We've only been together for a short time now—and I've realized that he has a
wickedly evil sense of humor. Not to mention an amazingly persuasive nature.
The man has me wrapped around his little finger and is all too aware of that
fact.
Every time the door opens, he looks at the newcomer. WHO are we expecting?
"Walt, couldn't you at least give me a hint as to who'll be joining us?"
"Nope," he says firmly. And there's that smirk again.
Bastard.
Well, nothing to do but wait. I sip my beer, studying the growing crowd. Never
having been in a gay bar before, I'm damned fascinated. I see everything from
butch leather daddies to screaming queens to guys that look as far from gay as
I'd ever imagined.
Interesting.
Walter straightens beside me, smiling towards the door. Seems our party is
starting to arrive. I follow his eyes and... FUCK—it's Krycek.
Isn't he dead? I could swear I saw him laying on a cold garage floor—dead as
a doornail. The not-dead Krycek spots us and waves. He even smiles, as does
the man accompanying him.
Once they've gotten drinks from the bar, they head over to join us.
"John," Skinner says, "you know Alex, and this is... Adam Pierson. Adam, this
is John Doggett."
I nod reservedly, mind still spinning at the appearance of Krycek. I'm not even
close to accepting his presence when two more men join us.
SHIT! Another Krycek. I blink and shake my head. Look again. Yep—they look
so much alike that they MUST be twins.
"Gentlemen, this is John Doggett, John, meet Cory Raines and Mac Ramsey." Cory
sits down and smirks at my stunned expression. Mac looks at me with sympathy.
"Kinda hard to take, isn't it?" Mac offers me an understanding smile. "I was
in shock the first time I saw all of them."
My eyes widen in horror. "ALL of them? You mean there are MORE?"
Everyone but Mac laughs at me.
"Just you wait," says Adam.
I groan.
Skinner pats my shoulder in an irritatingly condescending manner. I wonder if I
could get away with killing him...
As murderous thoughts run through my mind, two more join us—both of them
Krycek lookalikes.
JESUS!
More introductions. Ricky Caruso and Anson Green.
What the hell? Did their mother deliver a fucking LITTER of them?
The table is full—all seats taken—so I assume that our party is now
complete. God, I certainly hope so—don't think I could take yet another
Krycek copy. In numb silence, I listen as they play catch-up. Apparently they
haven't seen each other for a while.
Which is a good thing, I think. They must all live in various locales—not
getting into D.C. very often. Yes, a VERY good thing—don't think I could deal
with seeing this group too often.
Skinner orders a couple of bottles of champagne when a waiter wanders by and
offers to take orders. He's back pretty quickly, and pours each of us a glass.
Standing, Skinner raises his glass. "A toast, I think."
Everyone nods in agreement and watches him expectantly.
"To friends. To resurrections. To our extreme luck in finding partners. And,
last, but not least, to the holiday season. May we all have a Very Merry
Christmas!"
A chorus of 'hear, hear's' follow, then we all take a sip of our drinks.
Walt leans over and whispers in my ear, "You holding up okay?"
"Yeah, sure, fine... just don't expect me to be able to walk anytime soon. I'm
still kinda in shock, here."
He chuckles.
Have I mentioned what a smart-assed SOB he is?
I'm slowly relaxing, just taking in the conversation around me, when Krycek
stiffens in his chair. "Oh fuck," he says, staring at the door and the two men
who've just entered.
Mulder. And ANOTHER Krycek.
Jesus Fucking Christ! How the hell many of them are there, anyway?
It takes practically no time for Mulder's sharp eye to spot us. His jaw
clenches, his lips tighten and he makes for our table, shoving through the crowd
with no care for who he pushes out of his way. His Krycek copy follows more
slowly, offering apologies along the way.
"FOX!" Adam exclaims cheerfully. "Damn, it's good to see you—been too long,
don't you think?"
Mulder grinds his teeth, jaw visibly clenching.
"What the HELL is going on?" Mulder demands of Skinner.
Walt slouches down in his chair and smiles affably. "Just a small gathering—in honor of the upcoming holiday."
Mulder's partner finally reaches our side and lays a hand on Mulder's shoulder.
"Calm down, Fox. You don't know..."
"Oh yes I do. One of them is Krycek—I KNOW it."
"But, you said he was dead," the man protests quietly. "You told me Skinner
shot him—in front of your eyes."
Adam snickers. "C'mon, Vic," he says, "you know FOX better than any of us. Are
you really surprised that he'd come up with something like this?"
Mulder growls.
Skinner laughs.
"Which one of you?" Mulder asks in a dangerously low tone. "Which of you is the
RatBastard?"
In unison, all of the clones stand up and smile brilliantly in Mulder's
direction. "I am," they chorus.
By this time, Mac is practically falling out of his chair with laughter. Gotta
admit I'm finding this rather amusing myself. Nice to see Mulder—that
pompous, overly impressed with himself bastard—at a loss for words.
"Hey," Adam says generously, "grab a couple of chairs and join us."
"I... you... FUCK!" Mulder sputters. With a look of disgust, he grabs Vic's arm
and turns to leave. "I WILL get you some day, Krycek," he spits.
Then, dragging Vic along, he storms out of the bar.
After we stop laughing, Walt passes the second bottle of champagne around the
table.
"To Mulder," he says heartily, raising his glass.
"To Mulder!" Everyone agrees, each with a smile.
I lean closer and whisper to Walt, "You knew he'd show up, didn't you?"
His only answer is a VERY evil smile.
And there you go.
One Night at the Wolf II
by Jennie
How the hell did he manage to talk me into this? I DON'T do gay bars. But,
he'd been so eager—and so determined that I should attend whatever it is he
has planned for tonight...
