Fire by Raven "Gentlemen, I've asked you here for one reason and one reason only: it's time." Scully's voice was quiet, but sober. She eyed the two men sitting hunched across from her neutrally, but they knew she was reading every flicker of emotion that passed across their faces. "You've heard my plan, and you've had a week to think it over, but the situation is reaching a critical point, and we can't wait any longer. I need to know now, are you with me? Are we agreed?" Skinner's jaw was rigid, and his eyes looked wary, but he nodded. "I'm in." Relief she didn't show went through her, but Scully only turned patiently to her left. "I still think it's a bad idea, but I don't have a better one to put on the table. And you're right, it's getting dangerous. Count me in." John Doggett winced as he said it, but Scully knew that he would follow through. "Very well. Tonight, 1600 hours. You know what to do?" They both nodded, and she stood brushing the dirt from her faded black fatigues. She held out her hand, and Skinner placed his on top of it, engulfing it. Doggett's hand rested atop Skinner's and, as they did before each mission, they uttered the same invocation. "For those that survive." A pause, and they broke hands, each going their separate ways until time. ONE WEEK PRIOR "Dammit, Mulder, we don't have time for this shit!" Krycek's voice was sharp, short and hard. He was standing outside a pen full of huddled refugees, his gun trained on them, despite the fact that he was yelling at Mulder. His eyes swept the area, his walkie talkie squawking nearly constantly at his hip. "Wrong, Krycek! This is all we do have time for!" Mulder was working the lock, trying desperately to get the electronics to release. With a growl of frustrated rage, Krycek threw him back away from the gate, brought up his gun and fired into the mechanism. Alarms went off, but they'd already been discovered, so it didn't really matter. Flinging open the door, Krycek began herding the pitiful handful of humans out. "Listen up. Follow us or die, and don't expect help either way." Into his walkie talkie he barked, "Green team setting now. Evacuate in two, on my mark." Ignoring Mulder's "No!", he counted it down. Mulder watched, dismayed, as Krycek hit the button to start the explosions, and took off at a dead run. Grabbing the only child, Mulder had no choice but to follow, praying the victims would be strong enough to follow, though he knew most of them wouldn't be. Sure enough, of the fifteen released, only three made it out in time, counting the child Mulder had carried. There was no time to grieve, everyone had scrambled for the trucks, throwing themselves inside and calling the all clear. It was nearly an hour's drive to the temporary base they'd set up for this job, and at the end of it, Mulder turned the child over to the rescue services personnel, and went looking for Krycek. He found him in the tent being used for an office, getting the final set of reports from the other team leaders. Mulder, by now incandescent with rage, threw himself at the man bodily, fists flying. Krycek avoided all but a glancing blow to the chin, and kicked out. Mulder dodged the foot through sheer luck, and the two men went down on the floor in a tangled, snarling lock. As soon as they'd caught sight of Mulder's face, the team had radioed for help. They made no attempt to separate them, having learned from past experience that it would do no good, would only make things worse. No, there was only one thing to do, call and wait. Moments later, a petite redhead burst into the room, followed by an angry ex-Marine. The redhead had already drawn her gun, and she took careful aim and fired into the ground just to the side of them. They stopped, flinching, and looked up at her, noticing that she now had the gun trained on them. "Get up. Get up, right now!" It was gritted out angrily, in the tones of an overworked mother of a trying two-year old. "You know I'll shoot either one of you or both of you, and since I'm the one that'll be digging the bullet out later, you can bet you'll regret it." Slowly, looking like they were resentful of the interruption, they stood, panting but moving apart. If there was anything that they were both sure of, it was that Scully would indeed, put a cap in their ass. Skinner, once they were apart, had moved in between them, allowing Scully to put the gun away. "What the hell is it this time?" "You bastard, you freed them just to die." "Don't make this my fault, Mulder, you're the one that decided to play the hero. And I've got a newsflash for you, if any of them test for oil or chips, you get to be the one to put a spike in their brain." Mulder made a move that would have turned into a lunge, had it not been for Skinner's hands on his shoulders and Scully raising the gun again. "Go to hell, Krycek!" "Maybe, but at least I won't be taking half the resistance with me. You want to play god, Mulder, be merciful and kind, you go right ahead, but you do it on your own time." "These people are the resistance, you asshole!" Skinner had a hand on each of them now, and Scully cocked the gun, the sound loud and full of menace. "Shut up, both of you! It's done, let it go." Mulder, still glaring into Krycek's cool, unblinking gaze, finally turned and stormed off. When he'd gone, Scully again put the gun away, and she and Skinner left. Outside, they found Doggett waiting for them, concern on his face. Scully, despite her frustration and fatigue, managed to smile at the sight. She'd known he'd be there, having heard the call on the walkie talkies the same as she had. John Doggett was a modern man and accepted fully that the woman he cared for was a doctor and a soldier. He would follow her orders on the field without hesitation, and didn't balk at letting her do her share of the killing and dirty work. The fact that she was the only one willing to shoot both Mulder and Krycek, and thus, the only one that could get them to break up a physical altercation, made him plain old nervous. Doggett didn't say anything about it, and he never tried to interfere, but he was always around to make sure she was okay after. "That's the third time this week. I know there's a lot of bad blood between 'em, but they're leading this outfit, and it's no damn good for them to keep tryin' to kill each other." Skinner sighed deeply. He was even more tired of the drama than Doggett, owing to his own part of their shared history. "No shit. I just wish we could think of a way to fix it without Scully having to draw a bead. Hell, you had to fire a warning shot this time, and it still just barely worked. You'll have to shoot them next time." Scully looked thoughtful, and when she spoke, it was with some reluctance. "I have an idea about that actually. But this isn't the place to talk about it. Can you both come to my tent later? I liberated some coffee on my way out of the lab." "That's good enough to get me there." Skinner grinned, knowing Doggett wouldn't need an excuse to spend some time in Scully's tent. As though reading Skinner's thought, Doggett glared slightly with defiance as he asked, "What time?" "1800 hours?" With that agreed, they left to see to their various duties. Scully patched up the wounded, but she was on autopilot. She had a plan for dealing with Mulder and Krycek, she just wasn't sure how the others were going to take it. She wasn't really sure about it herself, but she was tired of having to haul ass from all over the camp just to keep them from killing each other. That, and she wasn't sure how many more times she could pull her gun on them and not actually use it. Since the resistance began in earnest, everyone had known there were only two people qualified to lead it. Krycek had all the dirt, he knew the system, knew how things worked and what was likely to be real and what was simply a trap. He'd proven he was on their side enough by then for his motives if not his past to be accepted, and Scully had put aside her personal feelings for the greater good of mankind. Mulder, on the other hand, had the intuition, the fantastic leaps of logic and the phenomenal memory they needed to make sense of the data they were bringing in. He was the only one that could even hope to tell them what the big picture was, and his genius and instinctive understanding of the forces they were up against had saved them more than once. Scully had put aside her fears and doubts and given herself into Mulder's keeping . If she couldn't comprehend what was going on, she could believe in Mulder, and follow blindly if needed. Together, there was no problem they couldn't solve. Between them, Mulder and Krycek were taking on the universe, and winning. They were brilliant, unbeatable and mankind's best and only hope. They worked with passion, with personal dedication and an overwhelming determination to get it done. And they'd been trying to kick the living shit out of each other since day one. They raged, they fought, verbally and physically. They wasted precious time and energy with on site battles for supremacy, and they were beginning to divide the rest of the resistance force into camps pro and con each other. It was wearing everyone down, the constant bickering, the snideness, the suspicion and coldness. The physical altercations just confused everyone. When they'd figured out that Scully could stop them long enough for Skinner to get between them, she'd hoped like hell they could find a solution. But for two such smart men, they were being incredibly difficult. No amount of talking, pleading or threats seemed to do more than annoy them, and the violence was escalating. They were now each starting to take foolish risks, just to get one up on the other. No, they were as corrosive and unstable as the chemical cocktails they used to make the explosives. Scully left the last patient, and sighed heavily as she cleaned up and headed for her small, but private tent. The two men would barely fit inside it with her, but they'd shared closer quarters. The first time she'd had to share a latrine trench with Walter Skinner was etched permanently in her mind. Now, she could ask him to pass the shovel and not even blink. They had all been forced into intimacy. It was that thought that had first led her to her rather unique solution to Mulder and Krycek. Setting the small tin of water to heat, she made the precious coffee, hoping her plan would be accepted. She really was going to shoot them next time, and she wasn't sure she could manage to feel bad about it. That had been six days ago. She'd outlined her plan, and sent them off to think about it. The only reason they'd had the chance was that Krycek had gone off to follow one lead, Mulder another, at opposite ends. It was a fairly safe mission, but the info was crucial, so they'd split up. The peace had been sweeter than honey. Now, one small week later, and they were both back, and the arguing had begun again almost immediately. They were in the office now, screaming at each other at the top of their lungs, the only reason they weren't physically fighting was that they were eating. You didn't waste food. It simply wasn't done, and even Mulder wouldn't break that sacred rule. Scully had known this. It was why she and her compatriots were standing out in the hall, waiting patiently for the drugs she'd laced the stew with to take effect. It didn't take long, and when two thuds reached them, they moved. Doggett picked up Krycek, Skinner took Mulder, and Scully led the way, reassuring all that saw her that everything was okay, despite the sight of both their leaders ass up over somebody's shoulder. Marching them to the portable secure room, they lay them down carefully on the single if wide bedroll provided, made sure the water was in place, the latrine bucket ready, and the locks all secure. Thus assured, the trio made their exit, and calmly locked the two men inside. The secure room was portable, barely. Made of steel panels that fit together with a peg and hole system, it had a narrow gash at the top to let in air and light, a sliding panel at the bottom to allow food, and a revolving tray for emptying the bucket. Each panel had a tiny window that would allow for viewing, and there were no blind spots. It was small, eight by eight, but impossible to break out of. They used it for many purposes, most of them dark. As he double checked the last padlock, Skinner looked over at Scully. "We really do need both of them. Are you sure they won't actually kill each other?" "Mulder wouldn't kill Krycek in his sleep, and he can't take him awake. Krycek knows he still needs Mulder, at least until the war's over. He's too cold to take him out just to satisfy his anger." She paused, then reached into her pocket. She was blushing violently, and Skinner and Doggett both eyed her curiously. "Besides, I have a small weight to balance the scales in our favor." Opening her hand, she revealed three moderately sized joints in an airtight bag, biting her lip as she heard Doggett's quickly indrawn breath, and Skinner's deep chuckle. "Why, Dana Scully, I'm surprised at you!" Skinner had gone to full out laughter, and Doggett, now over the shock, had a suspiciously twitching jaw. "I'm not saying a word. I neither claim nor disavow any personal connection to the contents of this bag. I am not going to discuss it. I will say that there are three of them. I propose to give them one tonight, before lights out. Tomorrow, depending on how things go, we'll give them another, about noon. The third we'll put in with their breakfast, if things are going well." "And if they aren't?" Doggett asked it with the air of a man expecting the worst. "Then we'll smoke it ourselves before we let them out." She held her firm look for just a moment, before her lips turned into a rare smile, shared by the three of them. "We might want to do that anyway. When they get out, they aren't going to be happy with us." Skinner spoke softly, knowing this wasn't news. "They'll probably come out swinging." "I'll take a punch, if it means this worked." Doggett was sincere, he'd count it worth the cost. "Me, too, but it'll be two punches, one from each of them," Skinner corrected resignedly. "Krycek might punch me, Mulder won't. Although..." Scully trailed off, a hint of her earlier blush returning. She looked up at the two men waiting with patient determination for her to finish. Knowing she'd have to spill, Scully sighed. "Mulder and I had a huge fight once, one like he and Krycek have all the time. We were both so mad, god, we were mad. I threatened to deck him, and he told me to go ahead. Then he told me that while he'd never raise his fist to a woman, if I threw the first punch, I'd find myself across his knee. You can imagine how well I took that." She grinned, the shared embarrassment part of being a comrade in arms. "Did you shoot him?" Skinner was serious, and Scully shook her head. "No. I called him the worst name I could think of and told him exactly how I would torture him if he ever dared...you get the idea. But I didn't punch him either." She made a little shrug of acknowledgment, and continued softly, "Still, like you say, if this works, I'll take a little pain and humiliation." "He won't spank you." Skinner sounded sure of himself and she looked over, puzzled. "I'll just tell him that whatever he does to you, he'll have to do to me first. Something tells me I won't fit comfortably over his knee, or even both of them." Chuckling at the mental image, and grateful for Skinner's sacrifice to make her feel more comfortable, Scully patted his arm in thanks, sharing a wink. They'd become friends, nothing more, but very good friends. Skinner had kissed her once, and that had been enough to tell them that it was no use. It was like kissing your sibling, and so they'd taken those roles for each other. He was her big brother, she the little sister, and both of them content with it. "So, how long before they come around?" Doggett, trying hard to get the picture of a naked Dana Scully stretched over his lap out of his head, steered the conversation back to business. "About fifteen minutes. Just enough time to share the plan." Squaring her shoulders, and with the two men behind her for backup, Scully moved to the front of the tent. A crowd had gathered, as she'd known it would, but she hit the chime on the walkie-talkie, just to be sure everyone would hear her. In clear no-nonsense tones, Scully told everyone what was going on. That she had, as third in command, taken it upon herself, for the good of the Resistance, to put an end to the trouble between Mulder and Krycek, once and for all. "They'll either beat each other to a pulp once and for all, with one of them clearly emerging as top dog. Or, and this is the scenario I see as most likely, based on my past with both men, they'll come out of this completely united. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if they came out of there as lovers. So, if anyone has a problem taking orders from a couple of fags, they'd better get it out of their system now." She levelled a glare at the entire group, and was relieved to see no one seemed to care. "If they'll stop bitching, I'll pass them the lube." Scully didn't see who made the comment, but it appeared to be the communal sentiment. With a grin at how weird life could get, she continued. "Alright. We give them three days, that's all we can spare. We'll monitor them to make sure they don't seriously injure each other, but that's all. No one talks to them, beyond the initial explanation, nobody comes into the tent except one of the three of us. That's because they can't really threaten us with anything we aren't willing to sacrifice. And hopefully, in three days' time, this will all be over one way or another. Dismissed." Everyone scattered, and she relaxed, pleased at how well it had gone. About then, she heard a muttering and ducked inside the tent. A peek showed her that Krycek was coming around. She'd expected him to be first, his tolerance for drugs was exceptionally high, thanks to his time with the Consortium. He looked around, blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Without moving, he took in the setting, the set-up and Mulder lying next to him, just beginning to stir. The string of curses was fluid and in Russian, but she managed to catch the drift. He hadn't bothered to move, knowing it was useless. Mulder moaned, and struggled to sit up. "What the hell did you do to me?" It was slurred slightly, but Krycek's response was sharp as a knife blade. "Not me, asshole. This stinks of that redheaded bitch and her two lapdogs." Wincing inwardly at the description, Scully remained silent, and continued to observe them from far enough away she wouldn't be seen. Mulder, by now realizing where he was and what the implications were, shook his head, hurt bewilderment in his voice. "Don't be a prick, Krycek. Scully would never do something like this to me. You, maybe, but not me." This time Scully didn't hide the wince. That hurt, and Doggett patted her shoulder, a brief moment of comfort. "Right. Just like she would only shoot me, not you. Just like she only gets pissed at me when we fight, not you, just like she..." He trailed off, face showing clearly that he was thinking. "Fuck!" It was a harsh bark, but full of comprehension. Krycek's face showed that he was glittering with rage, and he stood up, fists clenched until his knuckles were white. Mulder, the last effects of the drugs worn away by his growing apprehension, quickly came to the same conclusion. Standing, he moved to the wall nearest him, pushing vainly, then pounding. "Hey! Hey, is anybody out there? Scully!" Clearing her throat, Scully moved close enough for Mulder to see her through the viewing window. "Scully, let me out." He looked at her, his face showing clearly that he couldn't believe she was doing this to him. "No." It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to say to Mulder, but she let the word carry the full weight of her conviction, and his face blanched. Behind him, unseen, she heard Krycek's short sound of exasperation. "What? Scully, c'mon, I don't know what this is about, but let me out. Now." "You're wasting your breath, Mulder. She's the one that put us in here." Krycek's voice was a frozen wasteland, and Scully felt the goosebumps rise. Mulder turned, shouting over his shoulder, "Shut the fuck up!" "We were drugged, Mulder! Use your goddamn brain, we were both drugged, it had to be her!" Scully was the only one that had access to the group's limited medical resources. She had the only key, and it was always around her neck. Mulder knew this, and the hurt bewilderment was back, along with a look of betrayal. "Scully?" He sounded like a frightened child seeking its mother, and Scully spoke quickly, knowing it was best to get the pain over with. "No. Both of you will stay there until you find some way to reconcile, no matter how long it takes." This was a bold- faced lie, but they didn't have to know that. She wanted a genuine effort, not a carefully constructed fallacy to earn their freedom. "As long as you were only hurting each other, it was okay. But then you started to get worse. First you got me involved, then Skinner, and now you're beginning to divide the whole camp. We've tried everything we can think of, but you don't seem to care. We're out of options. You will either reconcile, kill each other, or become lovers. Either way, the madness is over, it ends and it ends now. You'll be fed, you'll be provided with blankets and light, your needs will be tended. But no one but myself, Skinner or Doggett will see to you. The camp agrees. So, it doesn't matter what your final solution is, gentlemen, so long as you find one. I'd suggest you cut through the bullshit and get busy. But I warn you, fake it and you'll find yourselves back in here, only I won't waste drugs. I'll shoot you first, then let you recover together. Good luck, you'll need it." She then turned her back and left the tent, ignoring Mulder's increasingly desperate and angry calling of her name. Krycek was leaning against one wall, squatting, head in his hands. They were shaking with outrage, and his jaw was clenched so tightly the bones creaked. "Shut up, Mulder! Just shut up, she's not listening." Mulder turned slowly, his own anger just now beginning to stir, fueled by the hurt of Scully's perceived betrayal. It rose in him like a cobra coiling, and by the time he was facing Krycek, it was ready to strike. "You." It was an ugly, dangerous whisper, and Krycek instinctively shifted to a better position. "This is all your fault." Krycek laughed, but there was no humor in the sound or in the green eyes. "Oh yeah, here it comes. This is the part where you blame me for everything. Like always. It's never your fault, is it, Mulder? No, I'm the only one that's ever wrong, I'm the Rat Bastard that ruined your life and now I'm ruining your war. Here's a clue, Mulder, we're in here together! Your girlfriend's pissed off at both of us, Saint Scully drugged your happy ass the same as she did mine." Mulder, unable to deal with the truth just yet, did the only thing he could do, what he always did when Krycek hurt him with honesty. He lashed out. Actually, he threw himself at the other man, and they went down in a tangled heap. Outside the tent, Skinner nodded at Scully, letting her know the sounds she was hearing were indeed, the first fight. He was monitoring the action from the small video camera tucked into the overhead panel. It had been added just for them, and they hoped neither man noticed it. There was no audio, just video, so they had privacy, but the captors would know if they needed to interfere. She peered over his shoulder, and he leaned forward, letting her see better. The men inside were scrabbling, but this time, no one would come to break them up. Scully bit her lip as she watched Krycek pin Mulder to the floor. She closed her eyes, unable to watch the blow land. Inside, Krycek struggled to hold Mulder down. Finally, he risked letting go with one hand long enough to backhand him. Mulder's eyes widened and he froze, for half a second, as he realized that, in all the times they'd fought since the war began, this was the first time Krycek had ever actually hit him. That thought went buzzing through his brain, and the profiler part of his mind began screaming that this was somehow a vital clue. It distracted him, and his struggles slowed. In the pause, Krycek got him pinned, and now he rested on top of Mulder, leaning forward and practically panting in the man's face. The green eyes were alive with emotion, and Mulder found himself relaxing under the intensity of that gaze. His mind was still alive, still working over the new factor in the complicated equation that was his relationship with Krycek. For his part, Krycek, feeling the body under his own relax, gave a puzzled frown, but used the advantage. "It's not just me, Mulder. It's both of us. You have to realize that, or we're never gonna get out of here." Mulder, to his absolute shock, only continued to stare at him, nodding faintly as he added this to the equation as well. His body became utterly pliant, all his energy turned inward, where a much bigger struggle was taking place. Krycek was just about to say something else, wondering if Mulder had slammed his head somehow, when Mulder spoke almost absently. "You hit me." "Damn straight, and I'll do it again if I have to. Besides, you were trying to knock my head off." "No." The voice was quiet, calm if a touch confused. "I mean, that's the first time you ever hit me, since we started the Resistance. We've fought a hundred times, easily, and you never hit me before." Krycek, looking slightly uncomfortable, sneered, "Usually your girlfriend breaks us up before I get the chance." Mulder thought a second, then shook his head. "No. No, you've had plenty of chances before, but you just never took them. Why now?" Krycek, seeing that Mulder was through fighting, let go, moving to sit against the wall. He said nothing, only reached out, taking a drink of the water. It was probably safe, Scully wouldn't waste too much of their medical stash on them. "Answer me, Krycek. Why now? Why this time?" "Christ, Mulder! It was just the back of my hand, stop whining, will you?" It was angry sounding, but Mulder was in full attention mode, and he heard the desperation, knew it to be the real emotion, the anger just a cover. "You're afraid to answer me." The sentence hung there between them, each man could practically see the letters swinging from some imaginary clothesline. Krycek made no response, only continued to stare at the floor. Mulder, realizing that nothing else was forthcoming, moved beside him. Krycek tensed, but Mulder only took the cup, dipping himself some water, and drinking thirstily. Going to the opposite wall, he slumped down, matching Krycek in the way his arms rested on his bent knees, head hanging slightly. Silence ruled for some twenty minutes before Krycek spoke in a harsh, hesitant mumble. "Scully wasn't coming this time. I had to stop you before you hurt us." It wasn't the way he'd meant to phrase it, but it was what came out. Hearing clearly what he knew Mulder would hear, Krycek swore vehemently, then stood, going to the view window. He was grateful that they'd put the tent over the shelter, but equally glad they'd left one flap open, allowing him to see outside. It was an open enough shelter that he didn't have to worry about claustrophobia. There was plenty of light, and candles for later. Krycek knew he was using all of this as a way of distancing himself from Mulder and his probing questions. He didn't care. He had his reasons, and if he'd never admitted them to anyone but himself, they were still valid. With a sigh, Krycek turned around, looking more carefully at the contents of his latest prison. There was the latrine bucket, the water bucket and one cup. The bedroll was well cushioned but had only one blanket. It was only a little wider than the normal single. There were candles and matches, but only one mess kit. A single washcloth and towel were folded next to the bedroll. He rubbed a hand across his eyes, not noticing that Mulder had been looking everywhere he did, and coming to the same conclusion. They were going to have to do a lot of sharing. Mulder had also come to some conclusions, but they were so deeply unsettling that he pushed them back. "They could have given us a book, at least." "Nah. You'd have read, and we wouldn't talk. They want us to talk, Mulder. They want us to bare our souls to each other, to bury the hatchet once and for all. Your girlfriend has decided to force a Hallmark moment." "She's not my girlfriend." Mulder's tone was flat, as he was busily adding the way Krycek said that word, to the rest of the clues. "Not anymore, maybe. Now I think she's doing the Dog." The Dog was Doggett's code name. Not imaginative, true, but nobody forgot who it was, either. "Not ever." Mulder wasn't sure why he said it, but he didn't flinch as Krycek turned and looked at him, incredulous disbelief plainly etched on his face. "Never? You and Scully never...?" "No. We thought about it, once, but it was too late by then. We'd spent too many years keeping it professional, I guess. We fell into and out of love with each other, before we ever had the chance to try. It was over before it began. We kissed, that was it." It was the truth, Krycek could tell that, and Mulder looked up in time to see the pain lace through the green eyes. "What about you?" "Huh? What about me? I never had a thing for Scully." "Well no, you wouldn't, she's lacking somewhat in the penile department for you." Krycek made a hiss, and Mulder watched, fascinated, as color flooded the handsome face. "Are you blushing?" "Fuck you, Mulder! Christ, of all the people to lock me up with... Scully! Get your ass in here and open this fucking door, you bitch!" Krycek had shouted the last, pounding on the panel he was leaning against. There was no response, but it had been worth a try. Mulder, realizing that he needed to think for a few more minutes, stood, stretching. It was getting late, he could see that evening was maturing into night. He moved to the candles and lit one, placing the squat tin of paraffin wax in the small reflective holder built into one panel. It brightened the grey of the room to a warmer shade, and made him feel better somehow. Krycek, grateful at not having been the first one to want the light, relaxed a little as well. A few moments later, the food panel slid out, and a dish of stew and two biscuits were pushed back through. Realizing that he was hungry, Krycek reached for it. "Hey, two spoons. Somebody slipped up." Mulder held them up triumphantly, and Krycek couldn't help the tired grin. He grabbed one, and they sat down, putting the bowl between them. Biscuit in hand, and with the water cup filled, they ate, each carefully taking one spoonful at a time, sharing it with merciless equality. "Not bad tonight." Krycek actually detected some flavor, and was suitably impressed. "It's never good, though." Mulder chewed mechanically, and Krycek asked, "You don't actually like food, do you?" "I like food okay, it's eating I object to." It was a very Mulder thing to say, and Krycek didn't even attempt to guess what it meant. Holding up his biscuit, he silently asked and was answered with a nod. Dunking it into the stew, Krycek counted it as one of his spoonfuls, grateful that the dry flat bread was soft enough to chew without much effort. Mulder followed his lead, and they ate in silence. When it was done, they each drank deeply of the water, and spared a little to rinse their hands and mouths, sharing the towel. They put the bowl and spoons back on the sliding panel. Mulder looked out, but saw no one. He moved to the next panel and caught a glimpse of Skinner standing near the doorway. "Skinner's playing guard. Must be shift change." "Yeah, he was supposed to have these four hours off. That means Doggett'll probably be our next babysitter." Mulder nodded, he was as familiar with the schedule as Krycek, more so because of his memory. They had each taken a window, and now they looked in unison as the food panel was activated, and slid back in place. Seeing something small on it, both men moved toward it. Krycek was closest, and he looked out the window, seeing Scully exit the tent. "What is it?" "It's a joint. Courtesy of the good Doctor." "Yeah? You sure?" "Of which, that it's a joint or that it was Scully that left it?" There was a trace of annoyance in the tone, and Mulder bristled. "It was a simple question, you don't have to get pissy." "Being sick and tired of having my every word questioned, is not being pissy." "And why should I take anything you say for granted? Why should I believe a single thing you say?" "Oh, God, not this again! Jesus, get a new routine, will you, please? Yes, Mulder, I lied. I lied my ass off. I cheated, I stole, I murdered in cold blood, and there's very little of it that I regret. In fact, there's not a thing worth saving about my whole miserable life, so tell me, Mr Honesty, why the hell did you let me live? Why did you come anytime I called? You were like Pavlov's dogs, I rang and you drooled. You not only let me live, you trusted me, Mulder. Why? How did you know when I was lying, and when I was telling the truth?" Mulder, unprepared for the attack to turn so quickly, said nothing, only turned away. Krycek looked at the stiff back, the hunched shoulders, and let his own head droop. He was tired. God, he was tired, and he just wanted to pretend this wasn't happening. Eyeing the joint on the panel, he bit his lip, then picked it up. "Mulder." "What?" It was a dark mutter, and when Krycek didn't answer, Mulder turned a careful eye toward him. Krycek held up the joint and the lighter for the candles. It was a question, and Mulder, suddenly weary, nodded. Krycek lit it as Mulder walked back over, and then inhaled deeply, filling his lungs, and then holding the breath. He passed the joint to Mulder, who followed suit. It was smooth, surprisingly so, not as harsh as he remembered. Of course, it had been years since he'd done any kind of drug recreationally, but he still thought it was smooth, if strong. He watched Mulder toke, finding the sight odd for some reason. When he couldn't hold the smoke any longer, Krycek released it slowly, then took a regular breath. "It's good stuff." He took the joint back, exhaled fully, and drew in another deep lung full. "Yeah." Mulder agreed, having released his own breath, and now preparing to take another toke. "It's not harsh, not like I remember anyway. I haven't done this since college, so I could be wrong." Mulder felt it kicking in already. "Me, either. Well, since I was college age." A thought occurred to Mulder, and when he was forced to breathe again, he used the opportunity to ask. "Did you go to college?" He carefully tapped the ash, then inhaled again. "I never went to high school. The Consortium took over my education when I was fourteen. After that, I went to the Academy just long enough to make it easy to place me there, and that was it." Krycek took the joint back, and on a quirk, asked, "You ever shotgun?" Mulder shook his head, then exhaled and answered. "I've heard of it, but I never did it. What's it like?" "Intense. It's like all the good parts of inhaling, none of the crap. You want to try?" Krycek offered it almost shyly, and Mulder found himself nodding. "Okay, scoot closer. No, really close. I'll nod when I'm ready for you, okay?" "Got it." Mulder had seen others shotgun, so he had a vague idea what was required. He watched as Krycek turned the joint around, placing the fire part within his mouth and signalling. Mulder leaned forward, his lips only millimeters above Krycek's, and inhaled. The smoke, already mild, was even milder, no worse than a cigarette, and the flavor of the weed was easy to taste. Krycek pulled back, removing the joint and coughing a few times. "I'm out of practice." "That was cool, thank you. Uhm, I've never done it before, but I'll try if you want a turn." "Sure, why the hell not?" He handed over the joint, with some final instructions, and Mulder carefully positioned the joint between his teeth. Krycek leaned forward, and it looked for all the world like he was going to kiss Mulder. Aware of the faint stirring of desire, Krycek took his hit, and sat back, feeling the relaxation beginning at the base of his spine. "Oh, yeah, that's some good shit." "Want me to roach it?" Krycek nodded, leaning back on the bedroll, and Mulder used the small tin provided to carefully butt it out. He then hesitated only a moment, before leaning back next to the other man. "Your eyes." "Hmmn?" "That's how I always knew when you were telling the truth. Your eyes change color when you're lying to me." "You're red-green color blind, how the fuck do you know if my eyes changed color?" There was chagrin in the tone, but no anger, and Mulder answered honestly. "The hue changes. They get darker when you lie, or when you're hurt." "Yours go brown. They're usually hazel, but when you're hurt, or really sincere, they turn a sort of pale gold." They said nothing for a while longer, and then Mulder rolled onto his side, propping his head on one hand. "You stoned?" "As close as I ever get to it, why?" "Because I think they're right. I think we should talk. And if we're both stoned, we can say whatever we want, and blame it on the drugs later. We could tell each other the truth. We could ask questions, the ones we've always wanted to know the answers to, and not be afraid." Krycek said nothing for a long moment, then finally looked up, nodding. "Yeah, okay. But light another candle, first, alright?" Mulder obliged, and then came back to the bedroll, sitting on the foot of it. "So, who goes first, Krycek, me or you?" "Alex." Krycek lowered his lashes for a minute, then forced his eyes to meet Mulder's. "I have another name. It's Alex. The way you say Krycek makes me want to take a swing at you. If we're going to tell each other the truth, let's start there." "Alright, Alex. But one condition..." "I know, you're still Mulder." "Uh, no, not actually. I was going to say that you had to use my name, too." "I thought you hated Fox. Even Scully calls you Mulder." "Only when strangers say it. And Scully calls me that because it's how we kept each other distant. We used last names only, until it became like a special thing, that we were these really good friends and never used each other's first names." "Okay. Fox." Krycek let a hint of a smile show, and Mulder returned it. "My turn to ask. Earlier, when you asked me what about me, I thought you meant, did I ever have a thing for Scully. You said no, but you never explained what you meant." "I meant, was there somebody special for you, somebody you cared about that way." "No, not that way. I've never had a partner, except for you. I don't have a Scully. And I'm not hot for Skinner, either. Though," Krycek's hinted smile bloomed slowly with mischief, "while we're being honest, he's pretty damn attractive. I had a few fantasies while I was standing on the other side of that desk, calling him sir." "You aren't alone. God, he wears the hell out of a dress shirt." They shared a moment of amused agreement, then Krycek spoke again. "How did you know, that I was gay?" "I'm not sure, really. I mean, for a while, I thought you were bi, like me. Then, I don't know, I just looked at you one day and couldn't picture you with a woman, not ever. You just seemed to need another man. It doesn't make sense, but then we got some files on you, it proved my theory." "That's how I found out you were bi. Well, that and one of your exs had a big mouth." "You must be referring to Diana. She was always telling somebody that her boyfriend was bi. I hated it, but she wouldn't quit." They lay quietly, and then Mulder asked softly, "Alex, did you kill Bill Mulder?" "Yes." The word was the merest whisper, but it was full of regret. "I'm sorry, Fox. I had no choice, I had to do it." "He wasn't my real father." "No, but he was the only father you'd ever known, and I killed him. I tried to put it off on Cardinale, I was afraid..." "Afraid of what?" Mulder was lying on his back, arm over his eyes. Krycek was in the same position on the other side of the mat, and he pressed the arm over his eyes, as though to shut out the reality of speaking these words. "I was afraid you'd never be able to forgive me. That you'd hate me, honestly hate me, not just believe you hated me." The words dropped quietly onto the floor, laying there undisturbed for a long time. "I don't hate you, Alex. You didn't kill him, I did. I killed him with every rock I upturned, every link I followed. I exposed him, made him dangerous, made him a liability. He died because of me, Alex. You were just the instrument of that death. I was the cause." "Dammit, Fox, no!" Krycek sat up and, reaching out, hauled Mulder into sitting up, too. "Listen to me, Fox! It wasn't your fault! He made his own choices, Fox, his own decisions, years before you were even thought of. If you turned up the heat, it was only a problem because he was guilty, had been for a decade before you were born. No, if I'm only an instrument, then so are you. He killed himself, Fox. It was an assisted suicide, nothing more." Pain stabbed into Mulder viciously, pain that lanced his tortured soul as he struggled to either accept or deny Krycek's words. Finally, his brain reached the only conclusion that made sense: Krycek was right. With a choked sob, the relief poured through him, wracking him as guilt was quickly overcome. Krycek stared at him for a few moments, afraid to move, to breathe in the presence of such genuine grief, but he couldn't ignore it either. With a shaking hand, he reached out, intending to only put a hand on Mulder's shoulder. Mulder stiffened, then turned into Krycek's arm so quickly, it threw them both off balance. They ended up lying on the bedroll, Krycek with his arms now instinctively around Mulder, who was pillowed on his chest, still crying brokenly. Awkwardly, Krycek began to stroke Mulder's back, rubbing a hand up and down the lean muscles, feeling the clutch of Mulder's fingers in his shirt, the heat of his breath against his chest, the wet of Mulder's tears on his skin. Without a word, Krycek held more tightly, and felt the first tear leak from his own aching eyes, felt it roll down his temple and pool in his hair. Outside, watching closely with a hand over her mouth, Scully tried hard not to weep with them. Skinner put a thick arm around her, and together they began to hope for the best. Mulder cried for a long time. When he was through, he raised his head, looking at Krycek, seeing the wet streaks from Krycek's own few tears. He reached out a finger, tracing the path, and Krycek met his eyes, not denying the truth about the tracks. "Thank you, Alex." "Don't thank me, Fox. God, please don't thank me. I deserve a hell of a lot of things, but your gratitude isn't one of them." It was a painful, husky slice of words, and Mulder traced another trail. "What do you think you deserve, Alex?" "Death." There wasn't even a hint of hesitation to the answer. "It's the only thing big enough to cover everything I've done." "You're wrong. There's one other thing." "What's that?" Krycek had dropped his lashes, but now they flew back up, as Mulder answered simply, "Forgiveness. Forgiveness would cover it all, wouldn't it? I know Scully's forgiven you. She knows you didn't kill her sister, we have proof of that. Skinner's forgiven you. Yeah, you killed him, but you brought him back, and that nearly got you killed. You don't give a damn about what Doggett thinks, but he's willing to let the past go. That leaves me." Mulder shifted, scooting up so that he was leaning almost directly over Krycek's face. "If I could forgive you, would you still need death?" "No. But you can't, you couldn't..." "Alex, I forgive you." Mulder cut him off with the blanket statement, and Krycek cried aloud at the blow the words were. He lay there, eyes huge and impossibly green, dark as the night around them, trembling violently, gasping for air as though he'd been running for miles. "I forgive you, Alex. For everything. For me, for my father, for Scully, for Skinner, for all of it. Everything. Every lie, every cross, every thing." Mulder's face was as untroubled as a child's and just as full of honesty. He was serious, absolutely serious. "No." It was a whimper, and now it was Krycek's turn to choke on a sob. "Why? Why not?" "I can't...it's too..." The words faltered, tripping before they were even off Krycek's tongue, and Mulder reached out, smoothing the hair from Krycek's forehead. The man closed his eyes tightly, shaking so hard it was almost frightening. "Yes, Alex. I'm going to forgive you, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. And if you piss me off tomorrow, I won't be sorry. I'll just forgive you for that, too. And do you know why?" It was obvious that Krycek couldn't answer, so Mulder leaned even closer, mouth nearly atop Krycek's. "Two reasons. One, you deserve it. Two..." Mulder trailed off as he lowered his mouth the last fraction needed, and kissed Krycek. It was just a simple kiss, a brief touch of lips, but it sent an electric shock through both of them. "Oh god, Fox, please." It was a desperate, needy whimper, and Krycek hated himself for making it, but his whole life was about to make sense, about to be worth everything he'd been through, and he couldn't bear the thought of letting that slip away, again. "If I say it, will you say it back, and mean it? Will you look me in the eyes, and promise me it's the truth? Alex, the last person I said it to was Samantha. I've never asked you for a promise, Alex, but I need one now. I'll tell you my truth, but I need yours. Please?" Krycek nodded, and took the deepest breath he could. He looked right into Mulder's beautiful golden eyes, and went for it. "I promise." Mulder held back only a moment more, then the last of the walls fell away, and he said with great clarity and conviction, "I love you, Alex." "I love you, too, Fox." Krycek couldn't believe he'd said it, couldn't believe the words had managed to get past the fear and the guilt, but they had, and now Mulder was smiling down at him, ever so softly. "I believe you." And then they were kissing again, and it was like breathing, like feeling oxygen rush into starving lungs. Outside, in the deepening dark, Skinner grinned and turned the monitor off. Scully had fled long ago, off to find a quiet space. He'd give them this. Besides, his relief was due in about five minutes. Doggett could decide whether or not to watch. The thought brought a low chuckle, and Skinner pulled a strand of grass from the ground near his feet, chewing on it contentedly. When Doggett arrived, Skinner cheerfully gave him the update, clapped him on a shoulder and left. Swearing mentally, Doggett cringed, before turning the monitor back on. To his relief, they were both fully clothed, and simply lying in each other's arms. The video feed was too grainy to give much detail, and so he didn't see that the front of each man's black camis were just a little darker than the black around them. Panting, Krycek took great comfort from the fact that Mulder was equally breathless. The kisses had revealed an urgency, a need for more, anything more, that couldn't be denied. With Mulder practically lying on top of him, it had taken little effort to shift just enough to rub his still clothed penis against Mulder's. He'd been as achingly hard as Krycek, and just as impatient. A few bucks and grinds, and Krycek felt the orgasm rushing through him, had felt Mulder's own spasms against him. Though what had really rocked Krycek, more than the orgasm even, was hearing Mulder plaintively call his name, just before he came. It was what had reduced him to rubble, and now, as he lay on his side, completely entwined with Mulder, he realized that, for the moment at least, he was also completely happy. As breathing returned to normal, Krycek knew he should start to pull back, to ease away. Common sense and his past training demanded that he let it go, that the walls go back up as soon as possible. It was the only way to survive, the only way to not risk being devastated when this all blew up in his face. It was also the only thing he couldn't do. Whether it was the pot, the shock of suddenly having the only thing he ever wanted, or simple fatigue from years of denial, Krycek couldn't say. He only knew that his instincts could go to hell, and take his brain with them. Allowing himself to be as open as he could ever remember being, Krycek met Mulder's slightly glazed look with a tender smile, letting his love show, for the first time in nearly six years. He even reached up, brushing that kiss- reddened lower lip with a thumb, just because he'd always wanted to. Mulder took the hand in one of his own, kissed the thumb, and then the palm. The face took on a slightly embarrassed look, but the eyes were brave as Mulder then held the open palm to the side of his face. It was the side Krycek had slapped earlier, and he reached up, kissing it tenderly. "I'm sorry I hit you, Fox. I didn't want to, love." "Say that again." "I'm sorry..." "No, not that. The last part. The pet name." Mulder's courage faltered slightly now, under the weight of his need, but Krycek only smiled brilliantly at him, and said warmly, "Love. My love." Mulder inhaled deeply, relaxing more than he'd ever dreamed possible. "Thank you." He paused to press a kiss to Krycek's willing mouth. "And, for the record, I'm not sorry you hit me. That's how I knew you were in love with me." "I don't understand. It's true, but I don't understand." Mulder shifted a bit, snuggling closer. "When you hit me, it was such a shock. And it shouldn't have been, not after all the times we've fought. That made me start thinking. It threw me into profiler mode. You and I both know that you could kick my ass anytime you wanted. But you never have. You've thrown punches that always missed, kicks just a fraction off to the side, and let me whale on you. You were doing everything in your power, including risking a bullet, to not have to actually hit me. When you had no choice, you chose the lightest, easiest thing for me to take. You bitch-slapped me." Mulder grinned, taking the sting out of it, and Krycek savored the curve of his mouth, before he continued. "I came up with the conclusion that you were in love with me. As soon as I thought it, I felt this surge of hope. That made me think about myself. I realized I loved you back. That every time I hit you, it was because I couldn't ask you to hold me, or because you made me feel something I didn't want to feel." "I got that. That you hit me, because you were afraid to do anything else. You only did it because you couldn't stand that you had feelings for me, that I could get to you. I'm not exactly Prince Charming." "Whoa, hold on a minute." Mulder shifted again, leaning up on his elbows, looking more fully into Krycek's face. "You think I was angry because the person I fell in love with was you?" Mulder's brows drew together, and Krycek knew he'd guessed something wrong, but couldn't figure out what. "Yeah. I mean, you were angry that I made you feel things you didn't want to feel, you said so." "Right quote, wrong interpretation. Alex, I wasn't angry that it was you making me feel, I was angry that I was being made to feel, by anyone. Scully can make me feel things, but they're safe things. I do love her, but not like that, like this. I can admit to having big brother feelings, partner and friend feelings. But to admit that there's somebody out there that gets past all my bullshit, that walks through my mental walls like they weren't there, that makes me lie awake at night and admit that I'm terribly, horribly lonely? That, I couldn't handle. I couldn't handle the truth. Some laugh, huh? Fox Mulder afraid of the truth." Mulder made a rueful face, and Krycek made a gentle chuff of amusement. "I was just the opposite. I knew I was in love with you, knew it from the first moment I saw you. I had it so bad, I was sure everybody knew, that they could all see. It was why I was always so cruel to you, Mulder. I had to protect you, and if they'd known I cared what happened to you, that I gave a damn...I couldn't let that happen. So I took the shit, played it hard, as hard as I could. Because I couldn't lose you. I couldn't let them have you." Mulder traced the arch of Krycek's eyebrow, the grin now a full smile. "You're my guardian angel, Alex. A black-clad, leather-winged angel, hell bent on saving my soul." It surprised a laugh out of Krycek, even as he felt his eyes sting at the description. But he rolled them anyway, saying with a sigh, "Oxford. I blame Oxford." It was worth the effort to hear Mulder laugh, then, somehow, they were kissing again. A few minutes later, Doggett turned off the monitor. There were some images he just didn't need stuck in his brain forever. The two men kissing as they began to tenderly undress each other was just the first. Besides, he was close enough to hear if they changed their mind mid-fuck and started batting each other around again. A few more minutes later, he swore silently as he realized that he was, indeed, close enough to hear. Of course, most of the camp would probably hear eventually. He was betting that Mulder wouldn't shut up and take it like a man. Doggett sighed. With his luck, Mulder would turn out to be a screamer when being fucked. Many long minutes later, Doggett amended that to 'while being fucked royally,' judging from the sound of it. Resignedly, Doggett settled down on the camp stool, face a stoic, if somewhat pink mask. Still, a deal was a deal. He said he'd do whatever it took, and if that meant hearing Mulder beg Alex Krycek to take him, so be it. Doggett, shifted slightly, continuing his neutral analysis of the noises coming from within the tent. A part of his brain monitored the sound behind him, being a good soldier and knowing that it was his duty. Another part of him mentally practiced looking the men in the eye again after this was all over. The majority of him simply wished that he and Scully could manage some off duty time together. They hadn't done more than neck, and while Doggett found the noises behind him a bit embarrassing, he couldn't deny that the hunger, need and unmistakable rhythm of flesh against flesh was more than a little arousing. And the love. Even a man as hopelessly straight and vanilla as Doggett could tell there was more going on in that little cubicle than a good balling. The tones were rich and warm, the language careful and tender, the voices raw with vulnerability. It wasn't the sound of simple sex, but the high music of two lost souls coming together and risking it all for the sake of love. Doggett wasn't the only one close, and he wasn't the only one that could hear the difference. Word began spreading through camp at a wildfire pace. Scully had been right. Fox Mulder and Alex Krycek had linked more than their destinies; they were now joined, heart and soul. A few people, those less knowing in the ways of love, wondered if it would weaken the leadership. Most knew it would only strengthen them, to be united in purpose. A few others, those that knew both men intimately, said a quick prayer to whatever god was listening. Scully, after making sure no one would see, made a ritual out of lighting her candle. Mulder deserved to be happy, and not just for a little while. He needed the whole fairy tale ending, and if Alex Krycek was less than a White Knight, he was still Mulder's only chance. The man had been in love with Krycek forever. Scully had known as soon as she'd heard Mulder say the name for the first time. Under the outraged professional was the deep pain of personal hurt. And then she'd seen Krycek look at Mulder, and had known, in the way one alcoholic knows another, that Krycek loved him just as much. It was why she had never let them seriously hurt one another, why she'd stopped them countless times before it could go too far, and why she'd felt sure her plan would work. Now, as she closed her prayer, she hesitated only a moment, before sending a quick mention of Krycek's name, too. After all, he was family now. She closed her prayer and began to work on lesson one. "Alex." She mumbled it to herself determinedly. "His name is Alex. Not Krycek, not Rat Bastard, not Lying Scumbag, not Soulless Slime, not..." She shook her head, having lost it already, and began again. "Alex. Al-lex. Alex..." Settling down on her pillow, she blew out the candle. "Alex." Mulder breathed the name into Krycek's warm mouth, following it with his tongue. "Oh, God, Alex, I love you so damn much." "Me, too, Fox. Love you, I mean." It was said with a little chuckle, and Mulder smiled at him indulgently as Krycek somewhat shyly eased away. He reached for the cloth and the water, and began to tenderly bathe Mulder. He was also checking for damage, though he kept that to himself. They had used the lubrication and condoms provided, damnation and thanks be to Scully, but Mulder had been tight, very tight. Krycek had taken his time, stretching and working at the muscles until they were lax enough, but he was still concerned. He wasn't much bigger than average, but he was pretty thick, and his careful control had slipped a bit at the end. "I'm fine, Alex," Mulder said quietly, and Krycek had the grace to admit what was going on. "You were really tight, Fox, I just wanted to be sure." "I know. And I appreciate it, Alex, honest, but you didn't hurt me. It was good, better than I'd imagined. Wa-was it...okay?" Krycek cuddled him close, kissing the broad forehead, holding Mulder's long lean form tightly to his own. "It was the best thing I've ever felt in my whole life. But I'm sure you could tell that. You don't have to fish for compliments, beloved, I'll give them freely." "I wasn't fishing, Alex, I just needed to know if it was as good for you as it was for me." The phrase and the words before it, combined with the memory of Mulder's extreme tightness, were enough to set off alarm bells. Sitting up, Krycek looked down into the compelling face, seeing uncertainty, and a trace of guilt. "Fox," Krycek asked gently, seeing the nerves already starting in Mulder, the teeth already in full possession of his bottom lip, "was that your first time? Were you a virgin?" "Yes." Mulder released the lip only long enough to whisper out the answer. Krycek closed his eyes, fighting the admittedly conflicted feelings bombarding him. His breath seemed stuck in his chest, and he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, unable to find the words for what he felt. "Please don't be mad at me, Alex." Mulder's plaintive words broke his stillness, and Krycek hastened to reassure. "Shhh, no, no, Fox. I'm not mad, love, how could I be? Overwhelmed completely by who and what you are, what you've given me so freely? Yes. Mad, no." Krycek kissed him enough to reassure him, then resumed the gentle interrogation. "But why didn't you tell me? I could have hurt you." "I was afraid you'd stop. That you'd worry I'd given in because of impaired judgement or something. Or worse, that you'd second guess yourself, and refuse, that you'd let your guilt about the past deny us this part of the future." It was Krycek's turn to acknowledge the truth. That was one of the things that he'd felt, guilt that he'd taken yet another part of Mulder's innocence, tarnished another part of his soul. It wasn't true, not like that, he knew it, and Krycek knew that the smoke had worn off long ago. Mulder had made his choice while in full control of his faculties. "Fair enough, but if you'd told me, we wouldn't have had to stop. There was another option." "I could have taken you, I know that. But it wasn't what I wanted, Alex, what I needed. I've made love to people before, I know what that's like. I've never been made love to, and that's what I had to have from you. Besides, don't you think you've given me enough? You've taken so much for my sake, Alex. I wanted to give something back." This was said with a guileless earnestness that made Krycek blink rapidly. "Dammit, Fox, if you make me cry again, I'll spank you." Mulder grinned, relieved and reassured by the mock threat. He pulled Krycek's head down onto his chest, and carefully drew the covers up over them. It was late, and he was exhausted. "Hmmm. Maybe tomorrow. I'm too tired for any more new sexual adventures." "Somehow, I knew you'd be kinky. But, sleep sounds good. Popping your cherry wore me out." Krycek smiled against Mulder's chest as he felt the snort of amusement before he heard it. A light whap to the back of his head was soon followed by a kiss to the top of it. "Jerk." "Yeah, but I'm your jerk." "Yes. And I'm yours. Rest, Alex. We're together, and we're safe. We've even got an armed guard. Nobody's going to bother us tonight." "Point taken. Goodnight, beloved." "Good night, angel." Mulder felt the mouth curve against him again, and Krycek snuggled that much closer, before they were both falling deeply into the best sleep they'd ever known. When Krycek opened his eyes, it was early morning. Given his choice, Krycek preferred to wake up in the near dawn, feeling the quiet as a balm to nerves usually stretched tight from the night before. This morning, the soft peach light seemed to heighten his emotions, rather than calm them. There seemed to be a stillness, and extra weight to the air, welcome, but unusual. Of course, he thought with a quiet rue, that might be because he was waking up with Fox Mulder, the man naked and wrapped around his body like a silken duvet. Krycek used the pale light to look down at the handsome face, seeing it for the first time ever, in natural repose. Younger, Krycek noticed that Mulder looked much younger this way, the lines of stress and worry fading, replaced by a false, if attractive calm. The body was lean and long, the hardship of their existence having sculpted a greyhound's grace out of the strength. The hair was mussed, as always, and the mouth still, as it never was. He looked beautiful, and Krycek refused to change the word out of deference to gender. Mulder was beautiful, handsome somehow just didn't fit. Knowing he didn't have much time, Krycek began to whisper, so softly he could barely hear himself. It might have been a prayer, might have been a plea, was more likely a confession. "I don't know what today will bring. You may wake up and hate me, you may want to forget yesterday ever happened. You may be ashamed. That's okay, beloved. This is your heart, your soul, you protect it however you need to. I've had one night, I've heard you say the words, felt you touch me with care. You gave yourself to me, willingly gave me everything you had, all that you were. If it never happens again, it's enough. I'll follow your lead, Fox, I always have. I won't ask for anything, don't want promises. I don't believe in forever or happily ever after. But I do love you, Fox, always have, and I always will. It's okay now. It's all okay now." Brushing a kiss over the broad forehead across from him, Krycek watched the eyelids flutter. Fighting the urge to school his features to neutrality, resisting the desperate need to pull away, Krycek offered a small shy smile to Mulder's blinking hazel eyes. "I love you." Mulder's voice was husky with sleep and smoke, thick with fog, but utterly sincere. He smiled back at Krycek, noting the faint shiver that ran through the compact body in his arms. "You were lying there, wondering how I was gonna play today, right? Well, that's how. I love you, you love me, yesterday was real and I'm glad. Okay, angel?" Never a morning person, Mulder delivered this in a near monotone, even yawning half-way through it, but his eyes were warm and peaceful as he idly stroked the skin under his palms. "Okay." Krycek managed to get the word out, and with a satisfied nod and another yawn, Mulder pressed a somewhat clumsy kiss to his mouth, rolled over, and went back to sleep. Krycek lay there for a long moment, grinning at the ceiling. Romantic declarations and flowery phrases, he neither needed nor trusted. The plain facts told in passing, now that, Krycek could believe. Feeling happier than he could remember, Krycek kissed the back of Mulder's neck and tucked him in, before slipping out of the bedroll. He saw to his personal needs, and then checked the view out of the slits. Scully was on guard, and Krycek made a small hissing noise, careful to pitch the sound out, and away from Mulder. She looked around, a good soldier despite her reluctance, and he motioned her close. She squared her shoulders, and moved to stand in front of the small rectangle. Krycek saw the nerves under her steel facade, and while he knew he'd never be anything but grateful, it wouldn't do to let her know that just yet. Keeping his face passive and voice neutral, he whispered, "I want coffee for him. I'm willing to trade." Scully thought a minute, gauging how valuable it would be, and relieved that Krycek was ignoring her duplicity, for the moment. "The same two hours off for me and Doggett." Two hours off wasn't much, but he'd be pulling two of his top people at the same shift, and so it was a definite price. Krycek reviewed the schedule in his mind, finding a near blank spot. "About a week and a half from now." "Deal." "Deal." He nodded and turned to leave, only just realizing that he was naked. He didn't care much, Krycek had almost no inhibitions, but he realized that if he and Mulder were now together, he'd have to start being considerate of Scully. He moved to the water bucket, washing off quickly and efficiently, and saw that fresh clothes had been sent in, sometime while he was asleep. Krycek had given in to Mulder's urging, and had slept so deeply that he hadn't heard the tray rattle. A flicker of unease went through him, but it was chased with a feeling of relief. He'd slept, slept deeply, and it had been okay. Shaking his head at himself, Krycek quickly dressed in the clothing provided. Instead of camis, each man had been left a pair of blue jeans and a plain black tee shirt. It was the only other clothing most people had, and so he wasn't surprised to find it waiting for him. Once dressed, he finger combed his hair, and noticed the sound of footsteps approaching. Scully sent the hot tin through on the food tray, along with another cup. He stood, looking out the slit. "Two cups?" "I have a few sources." "We only bargained for one. What's the new ante?" "Permission to call you Alex. And for you to call me Dana." If she'd suddenly sprouted a third eye in the center of her forehead, she couldn't have taken him more off guard. He studied her for a long moment, then recalled the reason he was dressed. She knew. "Granted, to both." She nodded and started to walk away. "Dana?" The name sounded odd coming from him, but she turned back. "Yes, Alex?" "Turn off the damn camera." She blushed scarlet, but offered neither apology nor explanation. "We already did. As soon as you started to make love, we shut it off. It hasn't been on since, and there was no audio." "Fair enough." And it was, he could understand that they'd needed to have some safety net. With his hurt that his first time with Mulder had been witnessed assuaged, Krycek relaxed, and let it go. They hadn't seen or heard anything really, and they were justified. Scully didn't try to hide her relief this time, and she left eagerly. "Is that coffee?" An only slightly sleepy voice emerged from the bedroll, and Krycek turned in time to see his new lover stretch with abandon. "Yep. For both of us." Krycek filled both cups, and brought them over carefully. Settling down on the bedroll by Mulder, Krycek took a cautious sip. "Oh gods, I miss coffee. There's nothing like it, nothing." Krycek inhaled deeply. This was weak, and he could tell it was instant to boot, but it was the first cup of real coffee he'd had in nearly three months. Mulder sipped at his, echoing the sentiment. "I know, I've boiled damn near everything I can think of, but it's just not the same." Another appreciative sip, and Mulder spoke softly. "Was this an apology or did you trade for it?" "I traded." "Thank you. It's like that last thing I needed to make this morning perfect." "P-perfect?" There was a world of curious insecurity in the tone, and Mulder nodded over the rim of his cup. "Yep. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the best morning of my life, and one being the worst, then I have to give this morning a definite 15. Know why?" "Why?" Krycek was staring at him, entranced by the sight of Mulder teasing him, as opposed to taunting him. "Because I slept last night, really slept. Because I have nothing to do today. Because my body still feels like it was made love to. But mostly, because I woke up in your arms, with you loving me. That's why." Mulder grinned, taking another sip, suddenly shy. "Well, and the coffee. That's what really put it over the top, having coffee." "Of course." Krycek, recovered now and appreciating the softness to his new lover's eyes, put his cup down, moving closer to Mulder. He ran a hand through the tousled hair, trailed it down the back of Mulder's neck, and back up to cup his face. "I love you, Fox. I'm not going to say it often, probably, because I'm scared to fucking death of the words. I've never had a relationship in my life, not a personal one, and I have no clue how to act like a part of a couple. I won't make you promises and I won't accept yours. I'm cynical and paranoid, and while I don't know for sure, I'm willing to bet I'm going to be jealous as all hell, and I don't do apologies. But I love you, I'll try to never hurt you on purpose and I'm willing to give it everything I've got." Mulder, eyes huge at the suddenly serious turn to the morning talk, knew that Krycek had never been more serious about anything in his entire life. It was a solemn vow, despite Krycek's aversion to outright promises, and Mulder accepted it as such, meeting the continued honesty head on. "I know. I love you, too, and I'm probably going to say it all the time, because I'm a talk kind of guy. You don't have to take my promises, Alex, probably shouldn't, but I'm going to make them, lots of them, some I have no hope in hell of keeping. I'm manipulative and selfish, and I'll try to play on our relationship if you let me. I've never had a serious relationship either, I'm just as clueless about how to be a couple, and I know I'm the jealous type. But I do love you, Alex, and while I know I'm going to hurt you, I'll mean it when I apologize. And I'm going to give this everything I've got, too. I love you." Krycek nodded somberly, and then began to grin. "Don't tell anybody, but I think this is going to work." Mulder, a matching acceptance of the situation on his own face, relaxed. "Yeah. I think it is. But rest assured, your secret is safe with me. And now that we're married, and our coffee's cold, why don't you take off those clothes, and we can start the honeymoon?" Krycek laughed out loud, the sound rich and full, echoing off the metal walls, and pounced. When breakfast was brought later, it was ignored, but Mulder did hide his face in Krycek's neck as he saw Skinner's head for a brief moment through the slot. Knowing it was just a bit of modesty on Mulder's part and not shame for the fact that they were making love, Krycek said nothing, only wrapped his legs more tightly around Mulder's waist. Later, as they lay eating the cold flatbread and cheese, drinking the fresh water, Mulder sighed. "That wasn't a contented sigh. What's wrong?" "We're not fighting." "You want to fight?" Krycek asked it carefully, and Mulder kissed him, shaking his head. "No, of course not. I only meant that they locked us up in here to get us to quit fighting. It worked, which means they'll probably let us go soon. I just - I don't want to leave yet. I want to stay in here with you, just a little bit longer. Out there, I have to share you, we both have to work, and we have to face some of the issues that we always fought about. I'm not ready for that yet. I'm scared, Alex, scared of going out there and losing this, losing us." Taking Mulder into his arms, Krycek held tight. "I know. I was thinking the same thing. It's going to be tough, Fox, we both have roles to play, and sometimes they clash. I'm the hard-liner, you're the optimist. That's good, it's part of our strength, it gives the whole thing balance. But it's going to be a tightrope walk, a leisurely stroll through a mine field, no doubt about it." "Alex?" "Yeah?" "Should...should we try to talk some of it out now? I hate to spoil the mood, and I'd enjoy nothing more than to just spend the time we have left making love, but it might be better to try to work some of this shit out before we have to face the others with it." "Yeah. You're right. I don't want you to be, but you are." Sighing, Krycek turned to Mulder, finding his mouth and kissing him with great deliberation. When he finished, he sat up, popped Mulder lightly on his naked backside, and reached for their clothes. "C'mon. Let's get dressed and get this over with." Mulder, deciding that he'd found the little slap both pleasant and intriguing, took his clothing and was soon dressed. Meanwhile, Krycek had gone to the window by the tent flap. Doggett was back up on duty, and Krycek called him quietly. "Doggett!" The man approached him warily, but without hesitation. "Yes, sir?" Doggett, too long in the military, police and FBI always called him sir, the reasoning being that Krycek was in charge, that made him Doggett's superior and therefore, the title. It would have bothered Krycek more, but Doggett called Mulder and Skinner both that, too, when on duty, and Scully was "ma'am", to her consternation. Doggett had simply come into this as a soldier, and that's how he acted. "Listen, Fox and I have some things to discuss. It might get loud, it might get ugly, but we're going to try and work them out once and for all. There's no danger of it going physical anymore, but all other bets are off. Fair warning. Don't disturb us, not for meals, not for anything, until it's quiet again, sustained quiet, and then find a way to knock first. Understood?" "Understood, sir." "Carry on." Doggett moved back to his guard position at once, and Krycek took up a spot opposite Mulder, both men visibly gearing up for the battle to come. "I love you." Mulder had to offer it once more before they started, too insecure not to. Krycek reassured him with a blistering kiss, then stepped away deliberately. "Okay, where do we start?" "Finding victims." It was their biggest bone of contention, the thing they fought over 99.99% of the time. "Let's dance." Krycek began, stating again his no-rescue policy and the reasons why. Mulder rebutted with his full rescue plan and reasons why. Twenty minutes later the noise level in the small space was appalling, and Scully was running up, looking at Doggett worriedly. To her surprise, he stepped in front of her, blocking her way. "No, ma'am, they left word that they weren't to be disturbed." Seeing her puzzled frown, he explained hastily. "Makes sense." She felt herself flush as she heard the latest remark fly through the air, Mulder the intended target. His reply was equally vitriolic, and she sighed. "Okay. Call me if you need me, or if they change their mind and draw blood." "Nah. They'll just fuck again if things get that wound." Doggett was just thinking out loud, and blushed scarlet as he realized what he'd said. Scully, trying very hard to both pretend she wasn't laughing and that Doggett wasn't blushing, realized that he was probably right. "Um, while I've got you alone for a moment...I've arranged for us to have some time off together. Two hours, in about a week and a half." "What'd you trade?" "The last of the coffee." "Worth it?" "I'll let you know." With a wink at his tease, Scully turned and left, doing her best to slink in army boots. She was fairly successful, and Doggett began to wonder where he could score some more coffee. An hour later, Krycek wearily asked, "So, we're agreed, then? If the victims appear relatively healthy and capable of making it out with the team, unassisted, or there is a child small enough to be carried, and we can make the save in less than three minutes, we do it. Otherwise, we leave them be, and grant them a merciful death. That's the rule, for operations of 15 minutes or less. If it's 30 minutes or longer, a no-pressure situation, we save all those that look unaffected, with the understanding that any future positives will be humanely euthanized. For operations between 15 and 30 minutes, we take a case by case examination, with the understanding that we'll always try to save the children. Beyond that, I make the final decision. These rules will go into the camp laws, and will be announced as such." "We're agreed." Krycek held out his hand, and Mulder shook it. "Thank God!" Both men turned the handshake into a hug, collapsing onto the mat and just holding close. "That was sooo not fun," Mulder whined lightly, but Krycek had to agree. "I know, baby. But it's over now, we don't have to have that fight again for a while." Krycek wasn't naive enough to think it was finished for good. "Did you call me baby?" "Yeah. If you don't like it, I don't have to." "No. I like it. Can I call you baby?" "You can call me whatever the hell you like, except Krycek." "That really hurts you, doesn't it, when I use your last name like that." Mulder reached up, caressing the arch of one well shaped brow with a fingertip. Krycek closed his eyes and sighed, snuggling closer into Mulder's arms. "I hate it." "I'll try to remember." Mulder, finished talking, moved on to expressing himself non-verbally. They'd just gotten out of their shirts, and made a good start on the pants, when a metallic clang reached them. "What was that?" Mulder, rolling off of Krycek and re- fastening his pants, looked confused. "Doggett. Knocking." Krycek straightened his own clothes, and moved to the slit. Sure enough, Doggett stood by the tent pole, having banged it with the butt of his rifle. "Yes?" "Sir, we'd like to go ahead and bring lunch out. It's a cold one today, and they're afraid of spoilage." "Sure, we're done. Thanks for the knock." "No problem, sir." Doggett nodded to someone, took a tray and moved to the food slot. "Step away from the wall, please, sir." Doggett was well-trained, and nearly as habitually paranoid as Krycek. It made him a valuable asset. Krycek obediently stepped back, though they knew from experience that the food slot was nearly impossible to gain an advantage from. Doggett put the food down, added the joint, and sent it in. "Enjoy." He started to walk away, when Mulder called him back. "John, can you tell me how much longer we have, in here?" "I believe you're paid up until 2200 hours, tomorrow night." A hint of a smile played across the craggy features, as he took in the relaxation on both men's faces. Mulder, especially, had been stretched wire thin when they went in. "Ten pm? Cool." Mulder slid his arms around Krycek, then froze as he realized he wasn't sure what Krycek thought about public displays of affection. He was very relieved when Krycek simply returned the embrace, adding a brief kiss to the worried mouth. "Something else to discuss, but after dinner." "Sounds good. Thanks, John." "You're welcome. Call if you need anything." Alone again, Mulder reached down to pick up the food tray, noticing the joint. "Looks like they want to keep us feeling happy." He held it up, and Krycek laughed. "I guess they couldn't find a nice wine to go with lunch, and decided some premium weed would work just as well. What is for lunch, anyway?" "Looks like they've found a rabbit warren." Peering over Mulder's shoulder, Krycek saw what he meant. It was a salad, an actual salad, and if most of the greens were wild, that was no problem. There was a trace of cold chopped ham, no doubt the ingredient they were worried about. "Is that actual dressing?" Krycek pointed to a small plastic cup full of pale yellow liquid. Sniffing it, he picked out sunflower oil and cider vinegar. "I'm assuming those little flecks are herbs." Deciding that anything fresh was good, they sat down with their bowl and forks, pouring a little of the dressing over and tossing it gently. "Hey, a tomato slice!" Mulder was impressed. He wasn't very fond of tomatoes, but it was still something different. He carefully cut it in half, and offered a part out to Krycek. "Feeding me?" Krycek teased it, even as he took the bite, savoring the burst of real flavor. "Would you let me?" Mulder sounded vaguely serious, and Krycek gave it honest thought. "Sure, if you wanted. Why not?" "You don't seem the type that lets other people take care of him." "Nobody's ever wanted to before." It was said baldly, without a trace of self-pity, simply an honest assessment. "What about you? If I try feeding you, will I lose fingers?" "Nope. In fact, truth be told, I like being taken care of. I didn't know it, not until I got sick around Scully for the first time. I mentioned having the flu and she did the whole doctor bit, no surprise. But then later, she shows up at my apartment with chicken soup and juice and a really bad sci-fi movie. She made me a bed on the couch, helped me get a shower, and fed me. After Samantha, my mother never really wanted to be a mom again. I couldn't blame her, and I was old enough, it was okay. We had someone to clean and cook, I didn't do without, but there wasn't much in the way of nurturing after that." "I'm sorry, Fox." "It's okay. But thank you." They lapsed into a comfortable silence until they'd finished eating. A quick wash, and when Krycek put the food tray out, he added the water bucket. It was taken quietly, and once brought back, they settled down on the bedroll, just casually reclining together. "Fox? If you're ready, we should talk some more." "About what?" "Which of us is actually in charge, and of what parts." "Oh, shit," Mulder grumped, but his tone spoke of agreement. "I don't suppose we can get stoned first?" "Nope, better not." "Damn. Okay, but I'm lying right here while we do it. I'm full and I don't want to move." "Ditto. Alright, weaponry." "You. Internment, me." "Unless it's a prisoner, then me." "Unless it's a delicate case, then me." Mulder countered it with emphasis, and Krycek turned his head on the pillow to look at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" And they were off and running, verbally settling another score. By the end of the afternoon, they'd called Doggett to bring them some paper, and had set out the new rules and the new parameters of each other's jobs and areas. It had been a long hard fight, but most of the worst of the issues were now put to rest, at least, semi-permanently. It was a good thing they'd decided to hash it out while still locked up. More than once one of them had shot up, ready to storm off, only to realize they couldn't get out of talking about it this time. Now, with a sigh of relief, Krycek began to light a candle for evening. "Okay, we're done. It's evening, dinner will be here soon, and we have the whole night, just to play." "Umm, I like the idea of playing with you, Alex." "I'll just bet you do." They spent a few minutes making out, not really starting anything, they knew there wasn't time before the meal, just reconnecting after the strain of the peace talks, as Mulder was referring to them. A knock on the tent pole, Doggett apparently having passed along the instructions, and Mulder looked out to see Skinner holding a tray in one hand and a small case in the other. "Feeding time at the zoo, Mulder. You guys ready?" It was offered gently, and Mulder graced him with a smile. "Sure. Bring it on." Mulder stepped back, knowing Skinner would wait until he'd done so. The meal and case were pushed through, and Mulder picked up the vinyl square curiously. "What's this?" "A reward for good behavior." Skinner waved goodbye, and Mulder took the case over to the bed roll, opening it in front of Krycek. It was a chess set. Both Mulder and Krycek were chess fiends. In the beginning, they'd played numerous games against each other, but as the fighting had gotten worse, the games had stopped, all pleasure stripped from them by the awareness of the real chess match being waged against each other. They'd missed it, missed playing each other. "That's cool." "You have some good friends, Fox." "Thank you, Alex, but they're our friends. Scully drugged your happy ass the same as mine, remember?" Krycek chuckled at having his own words thrown back at him, in this connotation. "Yeah, yeah. So, what's dinner?" "I'm not sure." Mulder was eyeing it oddly, and he brought it over, showing it to Krycek. A careful visual examination, a thorough sniff, and a hesitant cut through the middle, none of it helped. "I have no fucking idea what this is supposed to be. I don't even know if it's animal, vegetable or mineral. Those green things used to be green beans, I think, but this big brown blob...you got me. No clue." "I could ask?" Mulder offered it reluctantly. "No. If I have to eat it anyway, and I can't identify it without playing Blue's Clues, it's best to just choke it down in ignorance." "Good plan." They each took a fearful bite. It turned out to be mostly bland, vaguely meat flavored and roughly the consistency of meatloaf made with too many fillers and mixed with mashed potatoes. They hurriedly choked it down, Krycek looking reprovingly at Mulder until he caught up on the number of bites. A large swallow of water, and Mulder was all but throwing the tray onto the slot. "That was gross." "Agreed. I've had worse, but not much." Shuddering, Krycek made a face. "You're cute when you're six." "Like you could ever talk. Now, we've been good, we talked, we worked damn hard and we ate the mystery entree. I say we smoke that joint, play a nice long game of chess, then you let me suck your cock until you scream. What do you say, Fox?" "Uh..." Mulder, taken off guard by the final stage of the plan, could only nod stupidly, eyes fixed firmly on Krycek's mouth. When Krycek gave a slow lip lick, Mulder snapped, leaping across and on top of his lover, being sure to land carefully. He licked, sucked and nibbled on Krycek's mouth until the man was groaning out loud, hands reaching for Mulder's fly. "Fuck steps one and two." "Amen." Mulder supported Krycek fully in his efforts, rolling over long enough to drag the jeans down. In a flash, Krycek's mouth was on him, hot and wet and lovingly demanding. Later, as they lay sated, Krycek reached across Mulder's still nude form. Picking up the joint and the lighter, he ignored Mulder's hands roaming his back and rear. Or tried to. When long fingers skated across ribs, he jerked, not quite controlling the reaction. "Alex? Are you ticklish?" Mulder's voice held delight and Krycek squelched his instinctive denial. "Yes. Extremely." Mulder paused, looking at him with such an odd expression that Krycek sat up. "What? What's wrong, baby?" Mulder had sat up, too, and now he smiled, reaching out to place a kiss on the worried mouth. "Nothing, angel. I just didn't expect you to admit it. Revealing a weakness, all that." "Fox, you already know my biggest weakness, you goof. If I can admit I love you, then there's nothing left to hide." "Am I a weakness?" There was something in the way Mulder asked it that let Krycek know he was being serious. Biting his lip, Krycek prepared to hurt his lover. "You're a liability. A vulnerable spot. When we get out of here, people will know they can use you to get to me. But I don't consider you a weakness." Krycek cringed, saying it so coldly to Mulder, but he wouldn't lie. Mulder was staring at the floor, a small, slightly sad smile on his face. After a couple of heartbeats, he began to grin. "That's my Alex. You always tell me the truth, no matter how hard. Have I ever thanked you for that, Alex? For taking the shit? Being the bad guy?" "Shut up and kiss me." Krycek's voice was husky, thick, and Mulder happily gave in. Krycek motioned to the chessboard, and Mulder set it up while Krycek lit the joint. Pulling on a pair of jeans and nothing else, they spent a pleasant afternoon, playing an easy game, talking and touching. It was the closest thing to a date they'd ever had, and Krycek made a mental note to try and arrange time every couple of weeks or so to do this. He remembered hearing something about couple time on the radio, while stuck in an airport lounge one time. He'd check with Scully, see if it was still valid. The thought made him grin. "Hey, while you were still sleeping this morning, there was a truce. I'm now Alex, and your former partner is Dana." "Making nice with the in-laws?" "Something like that. Shit, this doesn't mean I have to call Skinner by his first name, does it?" Krycek asked it with some genuine alarm, but Mulder didn't answer him beyond a laugh. They had roached the joint, and now, as night fell in earnest, Mulder lit it back up. He looked good stoned. Oh, not the red eyes, but the relaxation suited him. Krycek had always thought Mulder was handsome, but now, seeing him content, quiet and calm, all easy smiles and open looks, the man had never looked better. As the drug kicked in, Krycek was aware of being suddenly caught up in a romantic fancy. "I'm stoned. I must be. There's no other explanation for why I suddenly feel the urge to..." Embarrassed, Krycek trailed off. "What urge? It's okay, you can tell me." "I want to dance with you, Fox. I want to hold you, and slow dance right here, right now." Krycek was looking at Mulder with that dreamy romance in his eyes, and Mulder was completely enchanted. "I'd love to dance with you, Alex." "We don't have any music." "We'll make our own if we have to. C'mon." Standing up, Mulder held his hand out to Krycek, helping him to his feet. He paused them long enough to light another candle, not caring about the waste. As he stood by the wall, waiting, Mulder noticed that Skinner was still watching them. "Hey, Walter?" Skinner approached cautiously, probably assuming he was going to be asked to find more lube. "Yeah?" "Would you do me a favor? I'll trade for it or whatever." "Depends. What do you want?" "Would you sing for us? Just one or two songs. Something slow, romantic?" Mulder felt his face heat just a touch as he asked it, but he'd heard Skinner's very pleasant voice before, singing around the fire. "Sure." Stepping back, so that he wasn't looking inside the cell, Skinner cleared his throat and then began humming, setting the tune. Inside, Mulder turned to Krycek, almost shyly taking the outstretched hand. Krycek didn't have much experience dancing, but he could hold his own, and now he settled Mulder into his arms, and began to lead them around the small space. "Love me tender love me sweet never let me go. You have made my life complete and I love you so..." It was perfect, Skinner's rich voice and the classically simple words and melody ideally suited. Swaying back and forth in the candlelight, feeling each other's heartbeat, both men knew that no matter what happened in the future, they'd never forget this night. Skinner sang them two more, before bidding them goodnight. He didn't expect an answer back, knew that they were too lost in each other, too busy trying to take as much as they could, store up the laughter and a few sweet memories, before the doors were unlocked, and reality tried to crush them. Skinner silently wished them good luck, and moved back to his post. They made love slowly, almost reverently, Mulder lying back on the bedroll, naked emotionally as well as physically. He held out his arms, legs parted, eyes and mouth beckoning to Krycek, with hopeful need, all his hunger and insecurity and newly found sexuality offered up with an honesty that stole Krycek's breath. Krycek tried his best to give it all back, to show Mulder the awe, the bitterly sweet yearning, the complete conviction of his love. He made each movement a prayer, and when Mulder's body opened to him, Krycek had to say it, too, the last words he'd fought against, had held back. "I love you, Fox. Only you, always you. I'm yours. Forever. I promise." Mulder, knowing what it took for Krycek to say that, to make him a promise of eternity, matched the honesty the best way he could, by remaining silent. No words to mar it, nothing to take back or deny later. Just the bravery of his silence. The vows complete, they began to move. The next morning, breakfast arrived while they were both still asleep. Scully looked in, surprised when Krycek didn't stir, only continued to sleep with Mulder held tightly in his arms. She paused, then held back the joint, taking it off the tray. Let them have today straight, she wouldn't let them use the mild drug to explain away or excuse. She hoped again that they'd be able to make it once the doors were unlocked. She knew that what had happened in that steel cube had changed everything, and while it seemed to be for the best, there was a part of her doctor's brain that was reminding her what could happen when humans decided to play gods. It was the sound of the camp that finally roused them. It was late morning, later than either of them ever slept, and it had been wonderful sleep. Neither one of them could remember the last time they'd had two decent nights sleep in a row, and this had been much more than decent. As they saw to their morning needs, and prepared to eat their usual cold breakfast, Mulder asked the question he'd been wondering since the previous morning. "Alex? When we get out of here, can we move in together?" "Of course. If you want to." "I want to, I just didn't know if you wanted to. I-I was wondering about a couple of things, actually." "So, today's topic is how do Fox and Alex start to think outside the box?" Mulder snorted, nodding. "Sure, baby. We can talk right after we have breakfast, and you make love to me. Okay?" "Okay." Mulder's look of delight intensified, when Krycek began feeding him bites of the cold rice and canned fruit. "You're going to be spoiled soon, aren't you?" "Probably. Scully always said I got spoiled easily. It's true. I can be a real brat, fair warning." Krycek cuddled him close, kissing the peach flavored lips. "I'm not worried. You get too out of hand and I'll just put you over my knee." He was teasing, but Mulder looked up at him quickly, face flushed, teeth sunk in that bottom lip. Krycek was just about to make sure Mulder knew he was kidding, when the lip curved into a devilish smile. "That sounds good." "I knew you'd be kinky." "You said that already." "I was right. Besides, I never said I minded." With a grin, Krycek turned back to breakfast. They talked until nearly time for the noon meal, figuring out just how out they were going to be, how public was too public and how they were to combine their tents, and still give each other the space they knew they'd need. "We're both loners, Alex. We can't be in each other's hip pockets, we'll go nuts. We need a safe area, a time when we can be alone." "Well, how about if we do that with the scheduling? You know, a couple of hours off before the other person gets back, some days with one of us off, the other on? And we can keep separate tents, if we want. Rank should have a couple of privileges. What if we take one of the big tents, and keep the two small ones we already have? A you space, a me space and an our space?" "It doesn't seem fair." "Sure it is. We always give married couples a big tent." Krycek turned away as he said it, busying himself with trimming the candles, but Mulder understood. He said nothing else about it, only put the water bucket out to be refilled. The afternoon passed gently, just cuddling and talking. They played another game of chess, this time genuinely trying to win. It went to a draw, to their satisfaction, and the post-game handshake turned into a caress. It was the way the day went. At nine o'clock, there was a knock on the tent pole. "Mulder, Alex? It's nine o'clock. We'll be back in an hour to let you out." Scully had thought it best to give them a warning. She was increasingly nervous about what would happen once they were out, and some of that came through in her voice. "She's scared. She thinks I'm going to kick her ass for drugging me and locking me up." Krycek murmured it absently, more or less thinking out loud. "Are you?" Mulder asked it hesitantly. He hated it, but he honestly wasn't sure of the answer. "Of course not. I'm fucking grateful to her. But she doesn't need to know that yet." He smirked, and Mulder chuckled, reaching out and slapping Krycek on his backside. "I can see I'm not the only brat." "I am not a brat. I'm an evil wrong doer, a ruthless assassin, a hardened criminal." Krycek offered this with great indignation, and Mulder shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Of course, how silly of me. My sincerest apologies." "That's more like it." Mollified, Krycek deigned to kiss him. A second later, he heard the breathless whisper. "Brat." At ten o'clock, they were dressed, with the chess set packed, waiting by the door. The bedroll was secured, the area cleaned. They were holding hands, each reluctant to leave the cocoon, but ready to face the world again. Doggett unlocked the panels, and together, he and Skinner lifted the panel out of the holes, setting the heavy steel aside. Scully was standing in the opened space, waiting calmly for whatever happened next. "Okay. I was the one that drugged you, and this whole plan was my idea. If you want somebody to blame or to be angry with, I'm the one. And I'm not sorry, and I don't regret it. So, give me you best shot, I'm ready." "Our best shot, huh?" Mulder spoke evenly, and she nodded. She was faintly surprised when he spoke to Krycek. "What do you think, angel, should we give her our best shot?" "She took the chance, she knew what she was doing." Krycek was completely cool and neutral, and now they moved to stand directly in front of her. She didn't flinch, but the nervous swallow was easily seen. And then they leaned down and kissed her, one of them on each cheek. Mulder reached out, picking her up and swinging her around just a bit. "Thanks, Scully. You always did try to take care of me. I love you, partner." Scully hugged back for a moment, and sighed her relief. With another kiss to the top of her head, Mulder stepped back. Krycek held out his hand. "Family?" She looked stunned, actually turned to Mulder to double check Krycek's sincerity. At his amused nod, she turned back, and took Krycek's hand. "Family." They shook, and then Krycek quickly kissed her lightly on both cheeks, before stepping back. "Okay, so what's happened while we were out? Any word on that facility to the north?" Krycek was all business, and they habitually fell into line beside him, briefing him as they walked toward the office tent. It was just like usual, with the minor exception that he had his arm around Mulder as they walked. It proved to be the pattern. They were business as usual, but with an absence of malice and an abundance of public displays of affection. If they hadn't cared who saw or heard them fight before, they cared even less who saw them being playful or loving now. The entire camp soon learned to knock before entering the office tent, and even then, to proceed with caution. Scully had walked into the main tent with Mulder once, to find Krycek and about three other men preparing to do some heavy re-con. Krycek was wearing the black camis, but he had ripped the shirt sleeves off, and it was unbuttoned half-way down his chest, before being tucked into his pants, which were tucked into his heaviest military boots. He'd tied a scrap of the cami cloth over his head, kerchief style, and he had black smudges under his eyes, right along his cheekbones. It was a blistering hot summer day, and Krycek was sweating already, his AK-47 draped across his chest. Mulder had given Krycek the last of the information he'd been sifting, when he'd trailed off at the end, eyes beginning to travel up and down his lover. "...so that's it, and my god, you look incredibly hot." Krycek, in work mode, but not quite fully, had given an exasperated grin, shot an arm out and hauled Mulder to him, kissing him savagely, before shoving the dazed man down into a chair. "Not now, baby. Daddy has to work." He had bent down, nipped Mulder's bottom lip, and with a roguish wink, he was gone. Mulder had looked after him, lips flushed, eyes glassy. "You are pathetically horny for each other, you know that?" Scully had said it with a sigh, wishing to hell she could convince Doggett she wouldn't break. "Oh, yeah! Oh, hell, yeah! Whoo-hoo!!!" Mulder had let his head fall back, and actually spun the chair once, before jumping up with a bright laugh. "C'mon, Scully, find me some work before I follow him and trip him." It was typical. And no one cared. It was a small price to pay for the fact that peace ruled. The camp was more focused and efficient than ever, and now there was time for everyone to have a bit of leisure. There was a chance to scavenge for non-essentials, and if they had to put up with the sight of their leaders sucking face to pay for it, they considered it worth the cost. Sometimes they met up with refugees, a pocket of two or three people. They were checked over, and then invited to join. Skinner had been explaining the camp rules to a couple of men they'd found in a cave, former military. The men had been eager to join, until they saw Mulder give Krycek a tonsil check before coming over to them. "Walter, when you've finished here, meet up with Charlie 2, they've found some things you might be able to help with." "Yes, sir." It had become a habit, picked up from Doggett, and now Skinner routinely called them both sir when on duty. "You call him sir?" The refugee, a man not much younger than Skinner, had looked outraged. "He's a fag! You take orders from a couple of queers?" Skinner, pissed off by the man who'd taken their help, but now would be rude to one of the men that made it possible, snapped back, "You listen to me, and you listen good. Those queers are saving your ass and the asses of everyone else left alive on this rock. They're the only hope we've got, and I'd follow either one of them anywhere." "I suppose you'd salute if they told you to get down on your knees?" "Damn right! If they told me I had to spit-shine their cocks before, during and after each mission, I'd learn to go way down and open wide." Skinner blushed somewhat, realizing that Mulder, despite his carefully controlled face, was going to be getting a lot of mileage out of that one. He pushed that thought far, far away, and continued. "And if you can't handle being saved by a couple of fags, then we'll be very happy to leave you here to die a miserable, upright death secure in your homo-free cave. But I warn you, it might not be humans that find you next time." With that, Skinner and Mulder had walked off. When they were out of earshot, Mulder's low whisper reached him tauntingly. "Spit-shine our cocks before, during..." Skinner's groan had drowned out the rest of his playback, but his remarks had become the traditional response to newcomers with an attitude about Mulder and Krycek. Now that they were together, they were popular leaders, both of them having an undeniable charisma, and the ability to command. Oh, there were still fights, still times when one or the other would leave, angry and silent, or when the sound of their yelling could be heard through half the camp. But there was always a resolution, always a making up, and the new laws they'd worked out helped ensure the fights were few and far between. When Mulder had disobeyed a direct order from Krycek, there had been no favoritism shown. Krycek had confined Mulder and confiscated half his rations. They didn't cheat either, Mulder stayed in his own tent for three days and nights, leaving only long enough to use the trench and then go right back. At the end of those three days, Mulder had run back to their shared tent, where Krycek was waiting with open arms. They'd made up, made love and made up for lost time. They were still very much individuals, but now, there was the added dimension of being a couple, as well. There was Fox, there was Alex and then there was Fox and Alex. Scully, watching as they prepared to blow another facility, looked at the two men standing face to face. They had been a force before, but now, nearly a year later, they were completely unstoppable. And still unapologetically in love with each other. She grinned as she watched Krycek raise the detonator remote with one hand, pulling Mulder close with the other. "And three, two, one..." The count over, Mulder put the walkie talkie down just as Krycek kissed him, simultaneously pushing the button to trigger the explosions. It was a slow, leisurely exchange of tongues, backlit by huge sheets of flame and chaos. When Krycek finally pulled back, Mulder's voice carried easily. "You only do that so I have to admit that the earth moved." Krycek threw back his head, laughing hard for just a moment, before claiming the mouth again, for a second. "Go co-ordinate with unit three." When Mulder turned to do so, Krycek drew back and smacked him hard on his cami- covered backside. Hazel eyes glowed lustily in the firelight, and Mulder's voice was pure erotic tease, even as he put a hand back, rubbing at the spanked spot. "Aw, Daddy!" It was a low pout, and drawled. "No fair spanking me in front of the other boys. They'll tease me." "If they tease you, baby, it just means that they want to play, too." "Yeah? So, is it okay, if they want to play?" "Well, that depends on the boy. Did you have somebody in mind?" "Not really. There is one boy I've thought about. He's real nice, Daddy, big and strong. We've been friends for a long time now, so I know he's a good boy." At this, Skinner, standing next to Doggett and Scully, waiting for orders, raised his head with a snap, eyes wary. Krycek and Mulder, arms around each other, were looking at him, grinning widely, and with a mix of desire, frank appreciation and humor in their eyes. It was a deadly, delicious look, and Skinner swallowed hard. "Maybe we should ask him over sometime, see if he'd like to come play. Maybe even have a sleepover. You like that idea, baby?" "Sure thing, Daddy." "Hmm. You be a good boy, and we'll see." "Yes, Daddy." A final kiss, and both men went their own ways, each having teams to check in with. "Oh, shit." It was a horrified mutter, and Skinner didn't blink until Doggett clapped him on the shoulder. "Walt, I really hope your door swings that way, 'cause it looks like you're about to get your hinges oiled." Chuckling, Doggett and Scully walked away, leaving Skinner blushing a bright red and not sure if they were kidding or if he wanted them to be. As time passed, however, Mulder became aware that something was bothering Krycek. He wasn't sure what. Nothing in their lives was radically new or different, and things were going well on most fronts. Still, he would catch Krycek looking at him, brows drawn together, obviously thinking about something very intently. Finally, Mulder couldn't take it any more. "Alex, what's wrong? I know something's been on your mind for a long time now, and you're starting to scare me, angel. Talk to me, please?" They were lying on their bedroll, and the tent was dark with the exception of one lone candle. "I didn't mean to frighten you. It's nothing bad, Fox, honest. You're right, I have been thinking about something, for a long time. I've just been too scared to bring it up. But now, well, I guess now's as good a time as any. Sit up, baby." Mulder did and Krycek followed suit. He took one of Mulder's hands in his, and spoke softly, as though terrified of the words. "I love you. I love what we are, and what we have. But there's something missing, something not quite right. It took me a long time to figure out what was wrong, but I finally did. So, here goes." Taking a deep breath, Krycek closed his eyes for just a moment and then looked up at Mulder with utter sincerity. "Fox William Mulder, I love you. Will you marry me?" Mulder, whispers of dread and pain having started coiling around his chest, was stunned stupid, absolutely floored. "What did you say?" Krycek swallowed hard, and without blinking, asked him again. "I said, Fox William Mulder, I love you. Will you marry me?" "Yes." There wasn't a touch of doubt in the voice, and Mulder was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. Reaching into a box on the floor beside the bedroll, Krycek pulled out a small, plain ring. "It isn't much, and I'm not sure it's the right size. We were going through an abandoned store, there was a case of them by the door. It's not gold or even silver, just stainless steel, but it's the best I could do." As Krycek spoke, he slid the ring onto Mulder's finger, relieved to see it was only a touch too big. They could make a guard, keep it in place easily. Mulder started to wrap his arms around Krycek, but his lover eased back, shaking his head. "Not yet, there's more. Fox, baby, I want us to have a wedding. I want us to get married in front of the whole camp, with our friends around us. And...and I want a preacher or a priest or somebody like that to perform the ceremony. I want to get dressed up, and exchange vows and rings. I want it all, Fox, the whole saccharine sham." "Why?" Mulder was incredulous, this was so far from everything his lover stood for, it wasn't even in the same universe, but Krycek was in deadly earnest, and clenching his hand so tightly it was nearly painful. "Because...because I believe. You made me believe, Fox. In promises and apologies, in blue skies and hope. In fucking living happily ever after. I want to marry you, Fox, because I believe in you and in us. Because I believe in love. And I want to respect that. It's sacred, Fox, what we have, it isn't just sex or need or any of that. It's true love, and that's how we have to treat it. Not all the time, but at least once. I want to stand up before God and everybody, and promise to love you until death us do part." Mulder traced a tear that was trailing exquisitely down Krycek's face. "I do." Krycek searched his face, needing to be sure, then whooped out loud, and tackled Mulder to the floor. A week later, as Doggett stood guard, Krycek and Scully broke into a bridal shop. It was against their usual rules, pillaging and looting. It was too dangerous, except for non-essential stuff, and it was simply uncomfortable to be inside the abandoned lives of these people. For the wedding, they were making an exception. "Okay, Alex, what color?" She was scanning through tuxedos on one wall while he worked on the other side. "White. For both of us." She dug through the colors, finally coming to a section of white. "Dana?" "Yeah?" "Do you think it's okay? Me, wearing white? I-I don't want this to be a mockery, I'm serious about it, all of it. Will it be an a-abomination?" "No, Alex. I think it's perfect." She saw his grateful smile even in the dim light of the flashlights, and returned it, before getting back to her search. They secured two white tuxedos, and an armful of other stuff, including a set of heavy gold wedding bands. They were about to leave, when Krycek stopped her. "We've got five minutes. Pick yourself a dress, get all the girl shit you can, and don't forget the underwear. Doggett's a leg man, there were some stockings over there." She hesitated just a second, and then flew into action. He chuckled, and spied a make-up kit full of samplers under a low shelf. He added it to his haul, and in moments, they were heading out and away. On the other side of the former county line, Mulder was raiding a supermarket, while Skinner stood watch. They came back loaded with enough powdered goods to make a passable wedding cake and feast. And a truckload of coffee. They were married two weeks later. Krycek and Mulder proudly wore the white. Doggett stood behind Krycek, Skinner behind Mulder, and Scully was centered between them, but back. A former priest turned resistance fighter performed a non-denominational ceremony. Krycek wept silently through the entire ceremony. From the moment he and Mulder had joined hands at the make-shift alter, to the reading of his vows, and the exchange of the rings, a steady slow stream of tears had tracked his face. But he was radiantly happy, and his voice was sure and strong. Mulder had choked his vows out, his voice failing him every time he looked at Krycek. But you could light a star from his eyes, and when the final prayer was spoken, the union blessed, Mulder let his own tears fall, mingling with those of his new husband. They cut the cake. They danced and ate and celebrated their love and their union. And despite aliens and the end of the world, they lived happily ever after. THE END continued in 'A Fire Christmas' raven@aeneas.net

Title: Fire Author: Raven Email: raven@aeneas.net Pairing: M/K Author's Notes: No real spoilers that I can think of, just a reference or two to a couple of episodes, in passing. Krycek has two arms, because I said so. [g] Warning: Despite the fact that this is post- war/apocalypse/colonization stuff, it's also mushy! Yep, this is a romance, and schmoop or mush or whatever the correct term is, definitely applies. And it was inspired by a song! No Doubt's "Start the Fire", a loving little ditty about sharing a toke as foreplay. [g] Um, that brings me to the last serious warning, mild recreational drug use mentioned. If you don't approve, then please, don't read. Rating: NC-17 Summary: In every love/hate relationship, there comes a time when you just have to make up your mind. Mulder and Krycek are there, with a little help from their friends. Disclaimer: The characters within these stories belong to Fox, 1013, CC et al. There is no profit made or intended from these stories, and they should be considered as being for entertainment purposes only. back to top

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