Now, with Alex Krycek standing behind him it was an
embarrassment, not just an annoyance, but then the lock was
the least of his worries.
He had been shocked beyond action when Krycek showed up
at Starbucks. A voicemail had told him to meet Scully
there. The bastard had surreptitiously stuck a gun in
Mulder's ribs and assaulted him with a shit-eating grin
till they reached the dark land-yacht of a car waiting at
the curb.
Then it became surreal. The Well-Manicured Man had
greeted him in that genial but coldly aristocratic way, as
Krycek pushed Mulder into the car.
As the car sped away "The Gentleman", as Mulder always
called him in his mind, smiled and shrugged at the obvious
question that spilled from Mulder the moment he was
settled.
"All life is illusion, Mr. Mulder," he'd responded by
way of explanation for his apparent death.
It had taken some persuasion, as they sat in the car at
the end of a deserted pier, before Mulder agreed to do what
was being asked of him.
Now, fighting with the key, he still couldn't believe
he was going to be Alex Krycek's contact as he was
reinstated into the FBI. The Gentleman had somehow arranged
for Krycek to be exonerated of all charges and placed as a
Special Agent in Mulder's section.
Mulder finally clicked the lock open and Krycek
shouldered past. The act sent an immediate jolt of
adrenaline through Mulder. They hadn't been together for
more than an hour and he already wanted to tear him apart.
The leather-jacketed man strode into the darkened
room. Silhouetted by the muted glow of the streetlight
outside the window. There was a cocky defiance in his
stance.
Mulder still hesitated on the threshold, trying to get
control of himself. This didn't seem real. With the
lights out Krycek was just a dark phantom image. If he
flipped the switch the man would turn, the smirking grin
would flash, and Mulder's waking nightmare would begin.
"How about some light?" Krycek cracked off, his tone
sharp and demanding. "I don't want to stumble into some
mess you left behind from your considerable appetite for
adult entertainment." The sneer was apparent even without
being able to see his face.
"If you slip on anything it will be your own slime,"
Mulder popped back.
"Cute Mulder, but I don't know my way around your
apartment that well. I've only been here twice. Once to
put you to beddy, remember?" He punctuated his words with
a knowing chuckle. "Bless Skinner's pointed, bald head for
giving me all the crap assignments. The only other time
was when I gave you your orders from the consortium. An
equally...."
His words ceased as the ceiling light blazed on.
Krycek blinked, looked around the room then turned.
"Christ, Mulder. You make more money than this!" He
made a sweeping gesture with his right arm that took in the
room. "What a hole! I'm not staying here long."
"You've slept in worse places," Mulder said closing the
door behind him. He tossed his coat, with an angry jerk,
over the arm of the couch as he walked towards the window
behind the desk. He grabbed the old wooden frame with both
hands in an attempt to open it and start some air moving in
the stuffy apartment. The maddening presence of Alex
Krycek had suddenly sucked the oxygen from the room.
"Like the rock you crawled out from under," Mulder
sniped as he struggled with the sticky window. His anger
with the man was only multiplied by his frustration with
the totally immobile object. Without warning the window
flew up, almost catching his fingers in the process.
"Fuck," he said under his breath. He looked at his
fingers, unscathed but tingling. A wave of anger and heat
washed over him as he steadied himself for a moment before
he stepped back.
"Where I've had to live wasn't out of choice," Krycek
stated in an irritating, superior tone. "Now, you on the
other hand..."
Mulder was on Krycek in a few steps, rage exploding in
him. He knotted his fists in Krycek's T-shirt and jerked
him forward. Their noses bumped as Mulder screamed into
his face.
"You have no choice, you piece of shit! I'm the one
saddled with bringing you back into the bureau." He shook
Krycek in rhythm to his words. "So, you do what I say.
And I say shut the fuck up. It's my life you've ruined."
Krycek's right arm came up in a swift, fluid motion
that Mulder barely saw. His open hand delivered a short,
devastating blow to Mulder's chest. The force propelled
Mulder back to collide with the wall, a good three feet
away.
Krycek's smiling face looked down at Mulder from behind
the automatic pistol. His faceted green eyes glittered
with malicious amusement.
"The time when you can beat on me is over, buddy. I've
learned some things that are apparently very effective."
He put the muzzle of the gun under Mulder's chin and
used it to keep him looking up.
Mulder stood slowly, his hand massaging his chest as
his breathing gradually returned to normal.
"So, I ruined your life." Krycek gave a harsh laugh.
"That's a good one, Mulder. You always were a funny
bastard, but when it comes to ruining peoples' lives I
think you're the king. You were my second big assignment.
And due to your paranoid, self-absorbed, ugly personality,
and your world view that you are the focal point, I blew
it. As a result I lost the white collar job I deserved and
was demoted to hired muscle." He glanced away as a wave of
anger colored his cheeks.
"You just reached your true level of incompetence."
Mulder fixed him with a smarmy smile that he hoped spiked
the same sort of anger Krycek could always elicit from him.
Krycek waited a beat but then continued, his gaze fixed
on Mulder with even more intensity.
"You have no idea what it's like to try and work with a
bunch of brain dead thugs who can barely grasp the concept
of keeping their knuckles from dragging when they walk." He
shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the memory.
Krycek frowned and motioned Mulder towards the kitchen.
"Go sit down," he instructed as he put the gun back in
the holster at the small of his back.
Mulder wouldn't admit it, but he was grateful for the
invitation. The blow had taken a toll on him. He made his
way to one of the old wooden chairs by the kitchen table.
Krycek followed him into the kitchen and was opening
cupboards as he talked.
"You already know about Hong Kong." He turned and
smiled a sweet, false smile. "And thanks for the broken
nose, by the way. Then, I was mentally raped by an alien
who left me just enough awareness to be terrified by what
it was doing."
He turned suddenly and propped himself against the
kitchen counter.
"Let's skip past all the other crap and get straight to
the arm. We both know that ultimately you are responsible
for this." He raised the prosthetic arm and light gleamed
off its hard, artificial surface. "So, let me summarize.
Your inconvenience at being chosen by my handler to
mainstream me back into the system weighed against my loss
of career, safety, self-worth and being a whole man. What
do you think Mulder?" He arched an eyebrow at him. "You
think I got you beat, just a little, on the ruined life
thing?"
He turned back to rummage through the cupboards.
Krycek moved to the refrigerator, opened it and did a
quick inventory.
"Three cans of beer and a couple pieces of petrified
take-out chicken." He shook his head in disbelief. "You
live like a fucking frat boy."
"What am I," Mulder asked, anger rouging his face,
"your salvation or your punishment? Or is it the other way
around?"
Krycek shut the refrigerator door.
"I don't really know. The old man took me under his
wing so I try to do what he wants. Despite that, if you
pull any more shit on me, I'll just kill you and tell him
it didn't work out. He'll be disappointed but not
surprised."
"How surprised will he be," Mulder asked with barely
controlled rage, "if I kill you first?"
Krycek walked over to Mulder and stood for a moment
looming over him.
"Dream on buddy-boy. The point is you're just the
facilitator. I'm the one who's important, now."
He walked into the livingroom leaving Mulder fuming and
wondering just how stupid had it been to say yes to this
idea.
Krycek took the phone receiver from the cradle and
turned to Mulder.
"You like Le Provincial, or have you ever been there?"
"I'm not going out," Mulder snapped.
Krycek lowered the phone with an exasperated toss of
his head.
"God, you are such a piss-ant, Mulder! I'm ordering
take-out."
"You can't get take-out from a four star restaurant."
Krycek beamed with another infuriating smile. He
cocked his head in a questioning gesture.
"Mulder, when are you going to learn? I can do
anything."
Krycek ordered the meal in fluent French. The easy
familiarity in his tone conveyed that he was a well-known
customer.
The food arrived in record time. Krycek tipped
lavishly despite the fact that he told the delivery boy to
inform the owner he would not accept another domestic
Chardonnay, no matter how good it was supposed to be.
They ate in silence after Krycek made a few pithy
remarks about Mulder's miss-matched dishes and cutlery.
It wasn't until they were drinking Courvoisier cognac,
from juice glasses that had started life as small jelly
containers, that the strain between them broke.
"What's your real agenda, Krycek?"
"I don't know." He looked off towards the high set
kitchen window mulling over the question. "I want new
clothes but I think I should look at cars first. And
definitely find somewhere else to live."
"I'm not asking about your fucking shopping plans. Why
are you being brought back into the bureau? Working within
the system is a little vague for someone like you."
Krycek smiled. "Yeah. Sometimes the old man forgets
I'm not some hippie he's going to turn into a lobbyist."
"What's the truth, then?" Mulder prompted when Krycek
didn't offer.
"Truth, huh?" Krycek took another sip of Cognac.
"Still into those absolutes after all you've seen?"
"Are you going to tell me anything? Because I'm fed-up
with all your bull-shit."
"Oh!" Kyrcek laughed out the word. "Always the
charmer. I'm surprised you haven't talked our buddy
Spender into giving himself up with sweet words like that."
"Why are you being brought back into the FBI?" Mulder
beat out the words with an insistent rhythm.
"God, if it will shut you up!" He took the bottle and
poured himself another drink. "I'm a recruiter. It's
really a very simple plan. I designate people and
resources to be brought in as resistance to colonization
now and as our life-line later."
"Why should I believe you?"
Krycek tipped his glass at Mulder. "That's a very good
question, and one that I can't answer for you. But I think
you know. I think you know a lot of things you're not
willing to admit."
"I didn't know about your arm," Mulder said quietly.
There was an unexplainable need in him to let the other man
know he understood the level of his loss, and rid himself
of any shadow of responsibility.
"And you call yourself an FBI agent." Krycek laughed,
his cheeks were flushed from the drink. "They didn't try
that with you?" His eyes narrowed as he studied Mulder.
"Yes."
"You didn't put two and two together? And the fossils
thought you were a threat."
"I thought you were dead," Mulder blurted, not certain
whether he meant the words to hurt Krycek or serve as his
own defense.
Krycek raised his glass, swirled the amber liquid and
enjoyed the sharp bouquet before he took another sip.
"You're just damn lucky I'm not," he said arrogantly as
he put his glass down.
Mulder wanted to strike out at him, again. But it was
true he was lucky. Krycek had the answers to all his
questions. Mulder wasn't going to let the anger pumping
through his body get in the way of his finding out those
answers.
"There are things I want to know," Mulder stated, the
alcohol making him bold. "Things I deserve to know."
Krycek shook his head. "Are we going through this
again? Despite what you think when you look in the mirror,
Mulder, the universe does not revolve around you."
"I want to know about my sister. What do you know
about Samantha?"
Krycek poured more brandy into his glass and topped off
Mulder's as well.
"I'm bored, Mulder. So, I'll tell you what I know.
I've got nothing to lose anymore. But I don't know that
much about your sister."
"Is she alive?" He took a drink so he wouldn't have to
meet the smirk that Krycek might display.
"As far as I know. I was never involved in those
projects. I heard, about a year ago, that the original..."
He met Mulder's gaze with an apologetic nod of his head.
"That's what they call test subjects like her. Anyway, I
heard she was alive. But she may have been at the pickup
site when the rebels suckered everybody."
"I see they didn't sucker you."
"I try to stay a step ahead."
"And save your own ass."
Krycek raised his glass and gave a minimal salute.
"If that's the way you want to see it, Mulder. I don't
think I can change your mind about me." He took a sip. "And
I really don't give a shit what you think of me."
"What about Scully's sister?"
Krycek gave him a puzzled look.
"Did you kill her?"
"Haven't you seen the forensics, the angle of entry?
It was someone much shorter than me and ..."
"Reports can be tampered with."
"What do you want, the gruesome details, you freak?"
Mulder slammed his hand on the table startling both of
them.
"Your old man," his tone was sharp and sarcastic,
"contacted me before she was murdered and told me two men
were sent to kill Scully. I figure you just shot the wrong
sister." Anger heated his face as laughter was Krycek's
only response.
"You think this is funny?" he threatened.
"Well, ironic at the least. The old bastard set us up."
Krycek drummed the table in delight. "I was still in the
consortium stable and I knew there was a rift starting.
The old man contacted you in order to stop us, because we
were part of the faction he was fighting. Cool."
"So, you admit you were sent to kill Scully."
Krycek shot him a disgusted glance. "God, Mulder
you're so easy. You believe everything you're told? The
shooting was an accident. We were never sent to kill
anyone. We were after the tape. Apparently, so was the
old man."
"She's still dead, Krycek," Mulder bellowed.
"Cardinale panicked, Mulder!" Krycek screamed back
with equal force. After a small stare-down, Mulder settled
back in his chair, still fuming.
"We were sent to find the DAT tape," Krycek continued.
"We didn't know at that point that Skinner had it. Scully
was the most likely candidate. If we snagged the tape
there wouldn't be any hard evidence in the wrong hands. No
exposure. That was what they were always afraid of. The
old man knew that, too. We were just doing a little search
and seizure when the door opened."
He studied his glass for a moment and didn't look up
when he spoke.
"Cardinale was unstable at best." He looked up at
Mulder. "I told you it was like working with a bunch of
macho retards. He heard someone come in and before I could
reach him, he'd shot her. It was never meant to happen."
He drained his glass, wincing at the biting heat of the
brandy. "Of course that doesn't make everything all
better." Krycek gave a weak smile and refilled his glass.
"Does that ever cross your mind, Krycek? Do you ever
think about the pain you've caused everyone?"
Krycek flashed a bitter smile in response.
"Sometimes I don't think about anything else. Anymore
questions or can I go to bed?"
"Why did you side with the old man?"
"I didn't," he said softly. "He decided not to kill me
when he just as easily could have."
"Why?"
"I don't know." A rarely seen wistful openness softened
his features. "He only has daughters. They're terrific,
strong women and unfortunately all married," he joked.
"But he's old school so maybe I'm the son he never had."
He locked Mulder in a sudden feral gaze. "Or maybe I'm
just the weapon he always wanted."
The reality of who was sitting across the table came
home to Mulder with a thud. His heart began to race as he
looked into the other man's glittering green eyes. Krycek
had always been someone's weapon despite the brief glimpses
of humanity Mulder had witnessed tonight. Locked in
Krycek's gaze, seeing his amusement at Mulder's uneasiness,
there was no doubt in his mind that this "man" was more
inhuman than the aliens they both fought.
Mulder rose, no longer able to face his enemy, his
informant and regrettably his future. He walked into the
livingroom. Krycek followed in a moment.
"You can sleep on the couch." It already had two bed
pillows and a blanket piled at one end, as Mulder rarely
made it into the bedroom.
Krycek stood for a moment studying the couch as Mulder
neared the bedroom door.
"Am I going to sit in anything here?" he asked with
mocking disgust. "I've seen the surveillance tapes. I
know what you do on this couch."
"Go to hell, Krycek," Mulder seethed, and walked into
the bedroom.
"Mulder," Krycek called after him. "Look around. I'm
already there."
The thud woke him. Mulder shook his head trying to
come awake. He wasn't sure whether he'd heard the noise or
felt it. Maybe he'd just dreamt it. Sleep had been
difficult to come by with Alex Krycek lounging on his couch
in the other room. No one pissed him off like Krycek.
Mulder had tossed and turned for a good two hours before
the adrenaline that fired him with anger had slowly seeped
from his blood stream and allowed him to sleep. The dreams
that followed were disturbing, with vague, fleeting images
that he couldn't fully remember when he awoke but left him
troubled.
There was a scrabbling noise and a choked moan from the
livingroom.
That God damned Krycek was jerking off on his couch!
Mulder was wide-awake now and well on his way to
furious.
"Fucking rat-bastard," he mumbled as he pushed himself
out of bed and grabbed the sweats that he'd tossed on the
floor.
"Kry..." The rest of the name was swallowed as he entered
the livingroom and froze.
Alex Krycek lolled on the floor. His head was thrust
back; sweat gleamed on his face. He clawed at the hardwood
floor as he tried to drag himself forward with his one
hand. He wasn't wearing the prosthetic arm. He was clad
only in white T-shirt and white briefs. His bare legs were
entangled in the blanket from the couch as he attempted to
move.
Mulder covered the space between them in a few quick
steps. He tried to gather Krycek into his arms but the man
fought him. Mulder backed off a little but kept a hand on
him as he struggled.
"Krycek, what is it? What do you need." It was
obvious he was trying to reach something. Mulder hoped he
could cut through the haze in time to keep him from hurting
himself.
Alex continued to thrash and pull himself across the
floor, writhing and fighting his way along the smooth
surface.
Mulder grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to bring him
out of it.
"Alex! Alex, what is it? Alex, what's wrong?"
His head jerked in Mulder's direction. His green eyes
were still unfocused but the use of his first name had made
an inroad into his panic.
"Pills," he croaked out the word, his throat tight and
dry.
Mulder's gaze followed where his arm was leading. His
prosthetic lay on a chair across the room, the ubiquitous
leather jacket draped on the back of the chair.
"Inside pocket... jacket." Each word seemed an inhuman
effort. "Pills..." was all he could manage before he lost
focus and started to scramble towards the chair again.
Mulder stood and swiftly moved to snag the jacket. He
felt for the telltale shape of a pill bottle as he brought
the leather coat to Krycek.
Krycek touched the garment as soon as it was near
enough and fumbled about trying to open a small zipper in
the lining under the arm.
Mulder brushed his hand aside and drew it open. He
extricated a small vellum envelope and felt the hard form
of pill capsules inside.
As soon as it was out Krycek grabbed for it, spilling
the contents on the floor.
Mulder scooped up a handful of pills as they rolled
across the bare wood surface.
"How many?"
Kyrcek pawed at him trying to take the pills away.
Mulder closed his hand before the ones he'd retrieved
were knocked away as well.
"How many?" he tried again. "How many do you need to
take? Alex!" he yelled, finally grabbing his attention.
"How many pills do you need?"
"One," the word came out thick tongued and hoarse.
"I'll get some water." Mulder started to rise but Alex
clutched at the front of his sweatshirt.
"One," he repeated, his voice edged with desperation.
Mulder wedged a pill in his mouth and through some act
of pure will Krycek was able to swallow it. Then, he began
to shake.
Mulder put the remaining pills in the pocket of his
sweatpants. He picked up Krycek under his whole arm and
pulled him back towards the couch. It took some doing to
actually get him up onto the sofa. Krycek was trembling
too much to help. The younger man was much heavier and
solid than Mulder remembered. He didn't fight Mulder but
the effects of whatever was plaguing him made it as
difficult to move him as a dead weight.
Finally, Mulder grabbed him by the waist and heaved him
into a sitting position on the couch. He hurriedly wedged
the two bed pillows next to Krycek, so he wouldn't fall
over, and stood up.
"I'm going to get some water." He rushed into the
kitchen and grabbed a glass from the counter. He rinsed it
quickly and brought a full glass of water back to Krycek.
Krycek sat shivering, a ragged ugh escaping his lips
every few seconds, the occasional cry doubled him over.
Mulder sat on the wooden coffeetable in front of him
and pushed Krycek's forehead back. He pressed the glass to
his lips. The water dribbled down Alex's chin as Mulder
tipped the glass. After a moment Krycek gulped in a
mouthful, tried for another and coughed.
Mulder pulled the glass away and snatched the blanket
from the floor next to him. He wiped at Krycek's mouth and
chest as he continued to cough. After Krycek settled
Mulder tucked the blanket around him despite the fact he
could feel heat radiate from the other man's body.
Krycek's eyes were dilated and unfocused as he shook
and moaned on the couch.
Mulder tried to remember what he'd learned in pre-med
classes about seizures. But the more he thought about it,
the more this looked like withdrawal.
"Alex," he tried the name again. It had been
successful at pulling Krycek back before.
"Alex!" After the insistent second try Krycek's head
snapped up to look at him.
"Alex, it's me, Mulder."
"Fox," he said faintly, as if it were a name he
remembered from another life.
Mulder swallowed at the sound of his rarely spoken
first name coming from this man's lips.
"That's right Alex. It's me, Fox." He saw the flutter
of long lashes as Krycek slowly came back.
"Tell me about your first big assignment," Mulder
encouraged in hopes that getting him to talk would bring
him back completely.
Krycek shook violently and grabbed at his stomach as he
doubled over.
"Alex! Alex!" He called until Krycek could focus and
a shred of attention returned to his dark eyes.
Mulder released him and settled back on the
coffeetable.
"Tell me about your first big assignment."
"What?" The voice was puzzled but the tone was growing
a little steadier.
"You told me I was your second big assignment. Who was
your first?"
"First," Krycek repeated the word as if he was trying
to think of what it must mean to him. His breathing was
labored but the jerking gasps that had rocked him were
becoming fewer.
"Yes, remember, earlier when we first came back. You
told me I was your second big assignment. When you..."
Mulder hesitated and then repeated the words Krycek had
used. "When I blew it for you and they tried to terminate
you, permanently."
Krycek licked his lips. His hand came up to his
throat.
Mulder picked up the glass from beside him and held it
to Krycek's mouth. He was able to take a few sips without
choking. His fingers rested gingerly on Mulder's and
telegraphed the continuous shaking that rattled him.
Mulder put the glass back beside him. Krycek was
rocking again, his eyes looking vacantly off into space.
"Alex," he coaxed and rested his open hand on the man's
bare knee trying to gain his attention. After a few
seconds it appeared that Krycek actually looked at him.
"Alex, who was your first big assignment?"
"O'Brien." He gasped, then wrapped his arm around his
stomach.
"O'Brien? Who is that?" Mulder encouraged.
"O'Brien," Krycek repeated. "Jennifer O'Brien," he
added in a rush. His shoulders bucked forward from the
effort but he continued in a halting monotone. "District
Bureau chief. I was her intern." For the first time a
spark of being present flashed in his eyes. He looked
directly at Mulder. "You know who she is."
Mulder startled at the intensity in his gaze. He tried
not to react but his voice wavered slightly as he answered.
"I know her. She's friends with my ex-wife."
Krycek laughed and it sent him into another spasm of
pain. This time when he recovered he was still lucid. He
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smirked at
Mulder.
"That explains a lot," he said. His voice was still
husky but the words were less hesitant now. "She hates
your guts."
Mulder conceded with a shrug.
"You were her intern," Mulder continued. "What were
you supposed to do to her?"
Krycek leaned his head back and laughed softly. When
his gaze met Mulder's again there was the unmistakable look
of 'what do you think,' on his face.
"Seduce her," he said the words in a voice smoky with
sexuality.
"Is that what you were supposed to do to me?" Mulder
regretted the question the moment it was out.
Krycek looked away from him. "It was an option." He
coughed again as more pain shuddered through him.
Mulder offered the water without being asked.
After another sip Krycek pushed the glass away. He
looked at Mulder from under thick lashes, the corners of
his mouth curling into a wicked grin.
"I ruled out seducing you early on. I told them I
could never compete with your good right hand."
Another wave of pain wiped the smile from Krycek's face
before Mulder could respond with a comeback about the other
man's own limited choices.
"Alex, stay with me." Mulder gripped his knee. "You
were O'Brien's intern. What happened?"
Krycek raised his hand and spanned his forehead. His
fingers pressed into his temples. It was a moment before
he could continue. The words came slowly this time.
"That cancer man bastard Spender wanted her on a leash.
She could be an obstacle. But if he blackmailed her, he
had a District Bureau Chief in his pocket." Another wave
of pain shook him and he trembled as he finished. "Besides,
I think the creep wanted the photos. He has a Jones for
her." He gave Mulder a knowing smile. "I do, too." He
watched Mulder for a reaction. "Come on, she might be your
ex's friend but you have to admit she's hot. Smart,
pretty, kind.." his voice trailed off.
Mulder squeezed his knee again. The trembling
increased and Krycek seemed to drift to some other place.
"Jennifer is something," Mulder agreed trying to bring
him back. "So, what happened? Is she working for Spender?"
"What?" Confusion clouded Krycek's face.
"What happened with Jennifer?"
"I liked her." The bravado was gone from his voice a
pained loss replacing it. "She was so good to me. She
treated me like an equal. She liked my work." He looked
at Mulder, his face eager, like a child sharing a secret.
"She taught me how to walk into a room. You know, being a
woman in the Bureau she was at a disadvantage. That was
part of Spender's plan, what he hoped to use against her.
But before we'd go into a meeting we'd take a moment
outside the door. And I swear," he raised his hand a
little. "She grew three inches as she straightened into The
District Bureau Chief."
"She can be pretty impressive," Mulder agreed,
remembering a few of his own run-ins with her.
Krycek relaxed back onto the couch. A pleased smile
moving his lips. "I've even seen her make Skinner look at
his shoes."
"Did you seduce her?" Mulder needed to keep Krycek
talking. He really didn't want to hear that Jennifer
O'Brien was part of the conspiracy, no matter how coerced
her involvement was. She was one of the few constants in
his life. She hated him because she had probably heard
every stupid selfish thing his ex-wife ever imagined he had
done. But she was always honest. "Krycek, what happened?"
he pressed when the other man did not continue. "When did
you seduce Jennifer?"
Krycek took a deep breath. The shaking was minimal now
and only his hand showed the effects. He looked up at
Mulder. His jaw was tight, lips pursed against his
memories.
"I wanted to seduce her. She was...is fine. It was a
turn-on for me that this important woman thought I was
special. And there was the pressure to complete my
assignment. To show Spender and those other old bastards
that I could do the job." He paused and reached out his
hand. "Can I have the water?"
Mulder gave him the glass and took it back after he
drained it.
"We were working late one night on a report, alone, in
her office." Krycek smiled suddenly and looked away. "She
always liked my reports. She said I was brilliant at
distilling information." He pursed his lips to erase the
smile and raised his chin as if chastising himself for the
sentiment. "Anyway, I had my jacket off, and so did she
because we were going through all these old files to
compile the information. And she was standing on this
three-step foot stool reaching for a book on the top
shelf." His hand rose, mimicking the scene that replayed
in his mind.
"I thought, this is it. There's no one around to
interrupt us, or to make her think twice about it. She's
all stretched out reaching for a book. She was on tiptoes
on those long, gorgeous legs and I could see the pattern of
the lace teddy she wore under her white silk blouse. I was
more than ready to go through with the plan."
His gaze had drifted off again as if he could see what
he was saying in the distance. But Mulder didn't interrupt
him. His breathing was regular and his voice, while still
halting as he told the story, had regained that familiar
defensive yet arrogant edginess.
"I walked over to where she was and asked if she could
reach the book. She stretched a little further and said she
thought so." His fingers curled slightly. "I reached up
and raked my fingers down her sides, you know,
half-tickling, half-caressing. I felt her respond. There
was that moment of hesitation, an inhaled breath that
wasn't just from surprise, before she turned. She was off
the step stool in a second. She pushed past me. When I
turned around she was holding my jacket out to me."
Krycek swallowed and his eyes drifted to the empty
glass on the coffeetable.
"You want more?" Mulder, asked.
He shook his head no and swallowed again. He continued
without any prompting.
"She held the jacket out to me. I walked over to her
and stood too close." He lowered his head and smiled, then
looked up at Mulder through long, dark lashes. "That was
something I'd learned from her, too. I knew I had her.
All I had to do was take one more step. Just pull her into
a kiss. She was mine and the assignment was consummated.
I had succeeded in so many ways." The smile faded from his
lips. "But then she looked up at me and I could see the
conflict in her. She wanted to do the professional thing,
you know, and make me leave. But I could see how much she
wanted me to stay."
He paused again, repeating the same gesture with his
chin of muted self-anger.
"She held out my jacket and said, 'Go home, Alex.'
When I wouldn't take the jacket she pushed it at me. 'Go
home Alex before I have to dismiss you.' I never expected
that. I took my jacket." His hand rose and curled into a
fist. "I tried to explain, maybe talk my way out of this.
But she cut me off. 'Come in tomorrow and we'll forget
this ever happened.'" Alex lowered his hand to his lap.
"Then I knew nothing was ever going to happen. Not
because of her, but because I couldn't hurt her. I
couldn't take her down because she was trying to protect
me." He laughed self-consciously and looked up at Mulder.
"No one had ever done that for me. She was trying to
protect her flirtatious, brilliant report writing, young
intern who had just made a really stupid mistake."
Alex lowered his head and studied his fingers as he
rubbed his thumb across the tips. "There was no doubt in
my mind that I could press the situation, make it happen.
And there was just no way I could do that to her."
"It never happened?" Mulder asked quietly.
"No." Alex turned his head and glanced at the window.
The pale light from the street chased away the shadows.
His face was awash in a soft, pearl glow. His features
took on a new strength as he raised his chin.
For just one off-kilter moment Mulder had the feeling
he was looking at the inspiration for every heroic
classical statue ever carved.
"I just continued my internship till it was over. I
told Spender he'd been wrong when he thought I was her
type. But, all those consortium fossils were wrong about
the whole assignment. They couldn't possibly have imagined
how she would react. Because none of them had integrity.
Not like Jennifer."
Mulder was silent as he tried to put his mind around
what had just happened. Alex Krycek: liar, assassin, moral
defective had turned noble before his very eyes.
"Why did you do it, Krycek?" The words tumbled out
before he could stop them.
Alex turned and gave him a puzzled look. "I told you,
because she protected me."
"No. Why did you kill my father." Mulder hated himself
for asking, for leaving himself so vulnerable. But there
was something in Krycek's face tonight that told him he
might learn the truth.
Alex shook his head and a disappointed smile barely
moved his lips.
"I wondered when we'd get around to this."
"You owe me this much."
Krycek gave a harsh laugh and rolled his shoulder at
him, displaying the stump of his arm.
"I don't owe you anything. I paid my pound of flesh in
Tunguska. Even if I told you the reason you wouldn't
understand."
"Try me," Mulder stated, defiantly.
"The old man told me once that he thought we were two
halves of the same person." Alex pushed his sweat-dampened
hair off his forehead. "I said that if it were true we'd
have to stand back to back because we never saw anything
the same."
"Stop talking in riddles, Krycek." Mulder's voice rose
as he insisted, "Give me the truth."
Krycek leveled an icy stare at him. "I've never done
anything that I didn't think was right. You understand
that?" He gave a derisive laugh. "I didn't think so."
"Tell me why." Mulder grabbed at Krycek's T-shirt.
"He was a danger to the project," Alex said, his voice
still the same controlled, cold tone despite Mulder's hands
on him. "I believed the project was preeminent. I
believed it was our only hope. Not just the small our like
you and me, but the whole human race. They told me he had
to be eliminated and I believed them. I believed what I
was doing was the right thing for humanity."
Mulder could no longer look at him and lowered his
head. Krycek was right, he couldn't understand it. He
wanted the answer to be simple, to be black in a black and
white world. He wanted Krycek to scream I'm evil, I'm
debased and far less than human. Instead, he only proved
that his honor wasn't just a trick of the light.
Mulder shivered as he felt the long fingers thread
through his hair.
"I'm sorry, Fox." Krycek's cheek rested against his
bowed head. "I thought it was right. I couldn't see that
it was usel..." He stopped before the word escaped
completely. "I'm sorry. I couldn't see beyond what I
thought was right."
Mulder raised his head and swiped at his nose as he
pulled away from Krycek.
"I don't think we stand back to back. It's more like
we're a twisted Picasso painting. We're both the face and
each other's profile at the same time."
"That's why the old man sent me to you. We're the only
hope either of us has. And we're both the world's only
chance." Alex coughed again the trembling returning to his
hand. He sank back against the couch.
Mulder reached for him, one hand grasping his shoulder
as the other cradled his side.
"What is this, Alex? What's wrong with you."
Krycek laughed and it turned into another tremor.
"This is just a little souvenir from my close
encounter. When the alien took me over, in Hong Kong, I
had a pretty good drug habit going and wasn't exactly
practicing safe sex." He laughed again but this time it
only left him slightly winded. "Actually, I was practicing
insane sex but those stories are best left for when your
VCR breaks down."
"Alex, focus," Mulder snapped.
"Christ, Mulder you're a pissy grade school teacher at
heart. If I don't tell you, will you give me detention?"
Mulder closed his eyes and grimaced with frustration.
"Krycek, just tell me."
Alex gave a disgruntled sigh but continued.
"When the thing took me over it couldn't use a body
that was addicted and diseased. It cleaned me up, so to
speak. As far as the old man's doctor's can tell it made
new neural pathways in the process and," he looked off
towards the window as he raised his chin, "sometimes I
misfire."
"Is that what the pills prevent?"
"Yes, but I was told that I might be able to get by
without them." He looked at Mulder, his eyes dark. "There
will come a time I'll have to. I've been trying to wean
myself off the things. I just went too long this time."
"How long was it?"
Krycek gave a harsh laugh. "Four days, a new personal
best." He held out his hand and it still trembled
slightly. "This will all be gone in a couple minutes, then
I'll be good for a few more days."
Mulder reached for him and he shrank from the touch.
"I want you to sleep in my bed." He offered his hand
again.
Krycek laughed, a fatigued, uncontrolled near giggle.
"Gosh, Mulder," he said with mock sincerity. "I
thought I'd hear those words under different
circumstances."
Mulder hooked him under the arm and hauled him to his
feet.
"Annoying, God damn prick," he said the words under his
breath but loudly enough he was certain to be heard.
He started to move Krycek towards the bedroom but the
man shook him off.
"I don't want your fucking pity, Mulder," he snarled,
all traces of humor gone.
He started toward the room on his own and Mulder
followed. After only a few steps he faltered and Mulder
grabbed him as he swayed.
Mulder pulled Krycek against his chest to steady him
and wrapped his arms around him. There was a moment of
struggle, whether he was fighting the embrace or just
fighting for balance wasn't clear.
Krycek gulped in a deep breath and stilled.
"I don't want your pity," he whispered the words this
time.
"It's not pity, you stubborn shit."
Mulder grasped the back of his head, tangling his
fingers in the silky hair. He pulled Krycek's head towards
his shoulder. There was some hesitation but the man
relaxed against Mulder after a moment. His own hand
cradled the small of Mulder's back.
"If they could see us now, huh Mulder?" Krycek laughed
softly but didn't move himself from the embrace.
Krycek sniffed and looked towards the bedroom.
"I'm fine."
Mulder stood dumb struck for a moment. Krycek shifted
uneasily, not breaking from him but his uneasiness was
apparent. Light from the window painted his face into
exquisite sculptured planes. Since they first met, even in
the heat of killer rage, Mulder had always been brought up
short by the sheer beauty in his face. He had experienced
his own moments of heat when Krycek was near. It had
usually transformed into a blinding fury. Now, it was a
strange craving for renewed contact with Alex's body.
Mulder tightened his grip on Krycek's hair and turned
his head so he had to look at him.
"What do you want, Alex?" he asked softly.
"I don't want your pity," he mumbled the words, not
believing them but saying them as if it were expected of
him.
Mulder tipped Krycek's head back as he tried to lower
it. He brought his own face close enough to feel the other
man's breath.
"What do you want, Alex." His tone rose with insistence
and he gave Krycek's head a tiny jerk.
Krycek laughed nervously and glanced away.
"If I told you, Mulder, you'd kill me."
"Then why don't I show you?"
Mulder leaned towards him, but Krycek's hand came up
between them to stop him.
"You don't want to do this." He tried to turn his face
away but his head was caught in Mulder's grasp.
"You're not as smart as you think, Alex. This is the
one thing I've always wanted to do."
Mulder pulled Krycek's head towards him till their lips
met. Resistance melted as his tongue probed the heat of
the other man's mouth. It only took a few moments of
exploration before Krycek's hand snaked up Mulder's chest
and strong fingers wrapped around his neck. They stayed in
the security of their mutual grasp as their kisses became
more fevered and they moved against one another in a
sensual dance.
They broke off and gasped against each other's cheeks.
"Bed," Mulder whispered urgently and the hand that held
Krycek's head moved to secure his waist. He didn't give
the other man a chance to protest, but hurried him into the
bedroom. He turned back the sheets and pushed him gently
down onto the bed. Mulder turned to pull off his sweats.
When he looked back at Krycek he was sitting on the
edge of the bed staring at the floor.
"Alex," he said as he caressed his shoulders.
Krycek looked up at him, his large eyes were troubled
and he pursed his lips before he spoke.
"I can't do this," he said finally. "Not if you're
going to have regrets."
"We'll worry about that later."
Krycek's hand came up and grasped Mulder's wrist in a
nearly painful grip.
"There isn't going to be enough time, later, for us to
undo this."
"The old man told you about this." Mulder tried to
reassure him. "Not in so many words but he knew this would
happen. He knew it had to happen. When you kissed me I
was whole, for really the first time. We are two halves of
the same person. There isn't going to be any regret."
Krycek's finger's loosened on Mulder's wrist.
"I want to believe."
Mulder laughed softly and threaded his fingers through
Krycek's.
Alex's gave him a resentful frown.
"You don't remember? You said that to me once before.
'I want to believe, Mulder. I just need somewhere to
start.'" He took the hand he held and placed it against his
own chest. "Start here."
Alex squeezed his eyes shut. Mulder didn't give him a
chance to respond but pushed himself backward and they
tumbled onto the bed.
"I dream about you," Alex whispered between kisses.
The words jolted through Mulder as the images of his
own troubled dreams became clear. Visions of the two of
them lost in each other's bodies had left him panting and
heated when he awoke. But the other in these dreams, the
one who was not really other but so much a part of himself,
was never identified until this moment.
He pulled at Krycek's briefs, freeing his dusky cock.
Alex pushed against him the underwear was tossed aside.
Mulder reached for the hem of the T-shirt but was stopped
by an iron grip and one cold, firmly spoken word.
"No!"
"I want to see you. You're so fucking sexy. I want to
see all of you." Mulder tried to tug his hand free but it
was no use.
"Just drop it, Mulder."
Mulder leaned forward, his hand still in Krycek's grip.
His mouth found the other man's nipple through the cotton
of his T-shirt. He sucked and nipped at the hardened nub.
His kisses trailed off towards Krycek's shoulder and he
felt the tremor of protest. He pulled back and propped
himself on one hand, face to face with him.
"I'm not afraid of it Alex. So, you shouldn't be
either. We don't have any secrets now." He kissed him
softly on the mouth.
Alex was totally overwhelmed, lost in emotions that
were attractive and repellant at the same time.
"Believe, Alex. Just let yourself believe," Mulder
cooed as if trying to coax a frightened animal near enough
to touch.
Krycek didn't say anything. He turned his face away and
let his arm fall beside him.
Mulder slowly pulled the T-shirt up. His mouth
followed his hand leaving kisses over the warm taut skin of
Krycek's belly. Mulder smiled when he twitched and moaned
under him as Mulder's tongue explored his navel. A wicked
impulse flickered through him to see how long he could lick
and nip at the sensitive skin before Krycek made him stop.
But he shelved the idea. There would be plenty of time to
tease this beautiful body when Alex felt more secure. He
continued to pull up the cotton fabric and anoint the skin
revealed with his mouth.
He deliberately took the shirt off the good arm first,
then over Alex's head. Mulder planted a probing kiss while
he tossed the T-shirt to the floor.
It wasn't long before Krycek's passive discomfort gave
way to passion. He tangled his legs with Mulder, prying
them apart. His hand traced and teased down Mulder's body
drawing shivers and groans from the other man.
Their bodies seemed made for one another, proportioned
and paced to melt together. Each man's creativity matched
the other's as they found and tantalized sensitive, secret
spots. Neither of them hurried, relishing the slow erotic
torment they administered and received.
"Fox," Alex finally moaned. "Have you got anything we
can use for lube?"
"Yeah," Mulder said reluctantly, not wanting this to
end but knowing he couldn't last much longer either.
He went into the bathroom and quickly returned with a
plastic bottle of lanolin hand cream and a package of
condoms.
Alex pulled him back down when he returned and ran his
fingers over the silky hardness of Mulder's cock.
"Fuck," he hissed in response.
"That's what I have in mind." Krycek laughed as his
hand was brushed aside.
"Damn tease," Mulder groused as he flipped up the top
of the bottle of lotion.
"You didn't complain about it for the last hour."
Krycek grinned, and snatched the bottle away from Mulder.
"Give me your hand."
Mulder held out his long fingers. Alex covered the
tips with lotion.
"You need to open me. Take your..."
Mulder held up his hand.
"I spent four years in England. You think I don't know
how to do this?"
"Sorry, Fox," Alex said scoffed. "I forgot you spent
long winter nights with all those inbred blue bloods at
Oxford. I bow to your expertise, international pervert
that you..." The words were cut off as Mulder's slick
fingers teased at Alex's tight ass.
Soon Alex was writhing and moaning out a string of
needy obscenities as Mulder showed him a few old school
tricks. Krycek grasped his own erection at the root and
tried to strangle back the orgasm that threatened.
The sight of his struggle nearly caused Mulder to come.
He quickly pulled on a condom and lubed himself. He spread
Alex's legs and pressed himself tentatively against the
sensitized opening.
Alex tossed his head, eyes closed, biting his lip.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" he hissed. "I'm
in bed with a fucking sadist!"
Mulder laughed at his frustration, acknowledging that,
despite the fact that it was killing him, he waited
deliberately to tease Alex just a moment longer.
He nudged a few times and watched Alex gasp at each
contact. Finally, Mulder slid into him, slow and smooth.
Krycek moaned and gasped the entire time.
When Mulder stilled for a moment, once he was in,
Krycek pushed against him trying to establish a rhythm.
Mulder took it from him and delighted in the spasms
that rippled around his cock.
He pushed up Krycek's legs and leaned against them as a
prop. This allowed him one free hand. He took Alex's
rigid, heated cock in his grip and felt the other man
shudder. His finger's traced the veins that stood out like
cord. He teased at the hood and it flared at his touch.
But none of this lasted long. He knew by Alex's flushed
face, the tremble in his cock, that if he didn't take
matters in hand it would happen without him.
Mulder pushed aside the other man's hand that still
desperately gripped at the base of his cock. He tunneled
the rigid member and began to stroke. He moved his own
cock in the hot confines of Krycek's ass. As passion built
his pumping increased and his hand fell into the beat of
his hips.
Alex struggled to postpone the orgasm, to stay on the
ragged edge of pleasure for as long as he could. Finally,
the maddening slide across the spot inside him that melted
his brain, burned down his nerves to meet up with the tease
on his engorged cock. The ensuing explosion of pleasure
ripped at his mind. He pulsed in a universe of sensation
that peaked and peaked and peaked again till he thought he
would die.
Mulder shuddered and cried out as Alex's body spasmed
and trembled around him. The pleasure was so intense it
felt as if it were being torn from him. His climax was
long and hard and too good to be true. He crumpled,
panting over Alex's sweaty body after he slid out of him.
The walls were awash in dawn-tinted hues. Mulder
stretched carefully so as not to wake Krycek. But when he
turned to steal a look at the beautiful rogue agent who
shared his bed, he saw that Alex was already awake. The
man lay silently staring at the ceiling, his forearm
covering his brow.
"Morning," Mulder tested, now uncertain that the
previous night had made any difference between them.
Krycek lowered his arm to the bed and turned to face
Mulder. He looked serious. He looked like he had been
awake a long time and had decided many things.
"You married to this place, Mulder?" he asked without
ceremony.
"What?"
Krycek looked back at the ceiling.
"We've got a year, year and a half tops before the
planet is colonized. Then we have to go underground again.
I intend to live as well as I can till that happens." He
turned to look at Mulder once more. "You with me or
against me?" The question came out with a tense shrug of
his shoulders. His eyes darted about in uncertainty at
what Mulder's answer might be.
"Is that a proposal?"
"Fuck you, Mulder," Alex bristled, and started to climb
from the bed.
Mulder grabbed him and pulled him back into an embrace.
"Sorry." He laughed against the other man's neck. "I
couldn't help it."
"Yeah, well try." Alex struggled, not enough to break
free but enough to show he was still angry.
"What do you mean am I married to this place?"
Alex didn't answer till Mulder feathered the fingers of
one hand over his ribs.
"Don't do that!" He tried to squirm away from the
touch.
"Then talk to me."
"The old man gave me some platinum cards." Alex's tone
carried a pouting note. "And access to his Swiss bank
accounts. I told him I intended to be very self-indulgent.
He said to do whatever I wanted because money would be
worthless in the world we had waiting for us."
The playfulness Mulder had been feeling was suddenly
erased by the cold reality of Krycek's words.
"What do you mean?"
"I want the best, clothes, food, entertainment, place
to live. I want all the things I've been denied the last
few years, all the things that won't even exist when they
start the invasion. This is our only chance to have or say
or do the things we've always wanted"
"Then what?"
"Then we go live with the rats." He gave a harsh laugh
at the memory of the first time he had spoken those words
to Mulder. "You and I are inoculated. They can't use us
to make more little monster babies so they'll hunt us down
and kill us. I don't intend to go quietly."
"But you intend to take me with you?" The words came
out as much more of a challenge than Mulder intended.
"You got other plans?" Alex asked with equal intensity.
Mulder traced the line of the other man's jaw with a
fingertip.
"Not anymore."
Alex's body slumped slightly and he released a long
sigh of relief at the concession.
"We need to find a house outside the city and..." The
words were cut off as Mulder's mouth covered his with a
desperate kiss. He matched the kiss with his own needy
searching lips and tongue. The terror of the life that lay
just ahead made both men press close trying to anchor
themselves in the contact of the other's body.
It had come to this at last. There would only be the
two of them. The old man was right. They were two halves
of the same person. Each man was flawed and incomplete.
But now, joined like this in the warmth and security of
each other's arms, they formed one perfect person.
One Perfect Person
by LeFey
Mulder fumbled with the key in the lock. The
impatient, frequent sighs behind him weren't helping his
concentration. The lock mechanism on his apartment door
was always sticking. Scully had complained a million
times.
Pain radiated through his torso as he gasped for air.
Mulder dropped to his knees as the agony from the impact to
his back met with the tightness in his chest. He felt the
cold chill of the metal before it touched his skin.
"Am I wrong?" he prompted. "Or is it just that you
can't breathe yet?" He took the gun away and nodded at
Mulder to rise.
"But that didn't last long. My employer tried to terminate
me, permanently."
"You bring out the killer instinct in people."
"You got anything to eat in here, Mulder?"
Mulder took him by the shoulders, forcing Krycek to
look at him.
"Water?"
"Tell me when you're ready," Mulder said as he absently
caressed the back of Alex's head.
Mulder felt the heat before the hardness accidentally
nudged him. He couldn't stop his startled reaction in time
and knew Krycek registered it. The man's hand fell away
from his back. He raised his head and took a step away,
but Mulder kept him in his grasp.
