Part Two
Mulder woke slowly. He thought the car had stopped, and from the quality of
the light it looked to be about six a.m. A swift glance out of the window
confirmed the fact that they had stopped, evidently for gas. Krycek was
just coming back to the car from the cashier's window, looking very relaxed.
"Krycek, where the hell are we?"
" Good morning, sleepyhead. I can't believe how you can just fall asleep
in the car like that. We're in Massachusetts. The Berkshires, a little
town called Dalton, to be exact."
"Why?"
"You are incredibly surly without your coffee, aren't you? Can you wait
ten minutes for homemade, or do you want some from the Juice 'n' Java across
the street?"
Mulder considered the question. As usual, he answered with one of his own.
"Whose home?"
"An old friend. She's probably awake by now. I just hope her husband's out
of town." At Mulder's raised eyebrows, Krycek shrugged. "Luke doesn't like
me very much. I make him nervous."
"Lot of that going around," muttered Mulder. Alex raised an eyebrow of his
own.
"I rescued you. Twice just yesterday. What's a guy gotta do , Mulder?"
"Sorry. Old habits...let's go see your friend."
They drove off down the main street of what looked to Mulder to be an
exceptionally pretty town. Wide lawns in front of homes, a couple of banks,
three large churches and a smaller one. A large reddish stone building that
seemed to house the town offices, public library, police station, and
historical museum stood on the corner where they stopped for a red light.
Krycek indicated it with a jerk of his chin as the light turned. "I spent a
lot of time there when I was growing up."
"The police station?"
"No, the library , in fact. Jeez, thanks. I wasn't always a thug,
Mulder."
"Sorry, I just ...shit. I really am sorry. That was...completely uncalled
for. No more cheap shots, okay, Alex? I promise. Tell me about growing up
here. Looks like a nice place."
"Yeah, it was. We lived about two blocks from here. My dad took off when I
was five, so when my mom went to work at the paper mill, she had to find
somebody to take care of me. No daycare in those days, right? So you had
to trust your child to a stranger, without knowing how it would turn out.
We got lucky, I guess. She found the perfect place for me, with a really
nice lady who had a daughter of her own.
"After the first few days, I called her 'Aunt Cathy'. I remember a little
bit about the safe feeling I used to get when Mom left me there. And the
feeling of having a friend."
"Is this the friend we're going to visit?"
"Yeah. She's almost exactly a year younger than me. Her birthday's the day
before mine. That first summer—it's like a dream now, y'know? Like some
mythical place in my head. Aunt Cathy worked part time at the library, two
afternoons a week, and she didn't mind if we went along, as long as we
remembered to be quiet. We had no problem keeping quiet, surrounded by all
those books. In fact, most days it took a crowbar to pry us away. Debbie
is still the only person I've met who loves to read as much as I do. I
remember how jealous she was when I went off to first grade without her.
When I got to the house after that first scary day, she wouldn't rest until
I had told her all about it. We played school until my mom picked me up."
"You were reading on your own at five ?"
"I was two grade levels ahead of my age until I got to fifth grade. Then
they realized how much extra work it would be for the teachers to keep me
going at that pace, so they made me repeat all the stuff I had already
learned. That was the first time the system failed me." He stopped
talking and concentrated on finding a new station on the radio.
Mulder realised he'd been staring at Alex, and looked around. He noticed
they were in a small city now. "Are we still in Dalton?"
"No, this is Pittsfield. She moved here after they got married. Property
values here were more within their budget. I offered to help, but there was
no way Luke would take my money, so...anyway, here we are." He turned
onto a side street. One side had multi- family homes with a Saab dealership
incongruously in the middle. The right side of the street was all
single-family dwellings. Alex turned into the second driveway on the right
and parked behind a green Taurus station wagon with a huge alien-head
sticker on the rear side window. "We're good here. Luke's car's not in the
driveway. Come on."
They got out of the convertible, Mulder feeling slow and stiff after
sleeping for two hours in one position. Alex walked up onto the porch like
he owned the place and tried the doorknob. "Locked. 'S okay, there's a
key." He slid up the screen of the window that flanked the door and fished
around for a second. "Damn, I bet Chaz forgot to put it back again—no,
there it is." He unlocked the door and replaced the key in its hiding
place.
Mulder felt like he was in the Twilight Zone. "Are you sure you should do
that? Is she expecting us?"
"Don't worry about it. It's cool; I do this a lot. Oh, and don't mind the
dog. He sometimes barks at people, but you shouldn't take it personally."
The door was opened, and Mulder followed Alex in. His first impression was
of books, an overflowing set of shelves to the left of the door in the front
hallway. Mostly science fiction, he saw. Heinlein, Bradbury, some of the
older Star Trek novelizations; mixed with a few Dick Francis mysteries and
some Stephen King for variety. Alex had stopped in the middle of the room
and cocked his head, listening.
"The shower's running. I guess she's up. Let's go see about coffee."
They went around the corner into a dark and cluttered dining room, through
to an equally cluttered kitchen. Another overflowing bookshelf held
cookbooks of every size and description. Alex rooted around in a cupboard,
found a coffeemaker and began to set it up on the counter. "Mulder, check
the fridge for coffee, would you? Should be in one of those clear deli
containers."
"There's two."
"Are they labeled?"
"One says 'fine'."
"Grab the other one. Thanks."
Mulder heard the water stop upstairs. He was a bit nervous about being in a
stranger's house, especially when said stranger's husband was: a) out of
town, and b) not fond of Alex. He decided to voice his concerns. "Alex,
should you let her know we're here? Is she likely to be armed?"
Alex snickered. "No, I don't think you have to worry about that. Luke
wouldn't allow a gun in this house. That's one of the things he hates about
me . But I'll let her know she has company." He walked to the foot of the
stairs. "Loooocy! I'm hoooome!"
It was Mulder's turn to snicker. "Who are you?" he asked.
A voice came from the top of the stairs just then. "Alex? Is that you?
Oh, my God! I'll be right down, just let me get dressed. Make coffee,
okay?"
"Already did."
"Uh oh, watch out, Spike heard your voice. Here he comes!"
A medium-sized black and white dog came barreling down the stairs and jumped
at Alex, pushing his nose into personal places in that way that only dogs
understand. "Hey, Spike! You wanna go out? Come on, let's go." Alex
looked at Mulder. "Stay."
"Very funny."
"I'll be right back. He's gotta go out in the yard. Living room's in
there, have a seat."
Mulder wandered into the living room and sat on the cream-colored leather
couch. He looked at the large collection of videos beside the television—
again, mostly sci-fi, with some Marx Brothers and Hitchcock thrown in. The
place was almost as messy as his own apartment, and it felt comfortable. He
picked up the remote off the coffee table and turned on the television,
scanning the channels until he found CNN. //Not that they'll actually
tell us if the aliens decide it's the right time, but I can pretend, I
suppose.// He flipped past a few infomercials and then heard footsteps on
the stairs.
Gee, this was awkward. Alex was nowhere to be found, and here he was,
sitting on some stranger's couch, waiting for her coffeemaker to finish
perking and watching her t.v. Well, if she'd been friends with Alex Krycek
for as long as he said, she must have learned to expect the unexpected by
now. Mulder turned off the t.v. and stood up. The footsteps resolved into
a petite, dark-haired woman with hazel eyes almost the color of Mulder's
own. She looked at him with some confusion and said, "Did you get some
radical plastic surgery this time?"
"What?" Oh, God, a lunatic. Just what he needed. But at the sound of his
voice, her frown lifted.
"Sorry, I thought you were Alex. Is he out with the dog?"
"Uh, yeah. Listen, I'm sorry for intruding like this, Alex said you
wouldn't mind—"
"And I don't. Alex knows I'd kick his ass if he was in town and didn't stop
by. I'm Debbie. Welcome to Casa de Baker. Sound's like the coffee's done.
Come on."
Mulder noticed she had carefully refrained from asking his name. He
followed her into the kitchen, where she was loading up a large tray with
mugs, creamer, and a bakery box. "Grab the coffeepot, would you? We can
eat on the deck." She led the way through a room filled with more records,
tapes and CD's than Mulder had ever seen outside of a music store. "This is
my husband's practice room. He's out of town on a gig."
They went out to a large deck where Alex was sitting on a bench that ran
along the railing. He looked up from his study of the hole the dog was
digging, and smiled. "Hey, Deb, it's good to see you." She put down the
tray on the table and stood with an expectant look.
"Do I get a hug, or are you too good for that now?"
He replied in a teasing tone. "And give the neighbors a show? What about
your reputation?"
"The neighbors speak about two words of English, Alex. We can't even figure
out where they're from . And my reputation can only get better." She took
the three steps over to him as he stood up, and hugged him hard. "Jesus,
Alex, I thought you were gone for good this time." Her voice was muffled by
Alex's shoulder, and he smoothed her hair with his good hand.
"That'll never happen, Deb. Ask my friend here, not much happens to me for
good ." He quirked an eyebrow at Mulder. "Right?"
"Asshole. You could have called once or twice. Come on, sit down and
eat. Who is your friend?"
"This is Mulder."
She gave Mulder an odd look. "Interesting name. Your parents could only
afford the one?"
Alex tried to explain. "He really hates his first name. It's kind of a—"
"It's Fox."
Alex stared at Mulder in amazement. "I've known you for seven years ,
Scully's known you for eight; you met her ten minutes ago, and she gets
to call you 'Fox'?"
Mulder grinned. "I'm quirky that way."
"You are not quirky , you're—oh never mind. Pour me some coffee and
pass the danish."
Mulder turned to Deb to explain. "He's jealous."
"Am not." Alex stuck out his tongue.
They drank coffee and ate danish, listening to the birds and watching the
dog roll around in the grass. Alex broke the silence finally.
"So where's Luke?"
"He had a gig in Vermont and took Chaz with him. They're gone until Sunday
night." She turned to Mulder. "My husband plays the double bass. He's in
the middle of a tour with the Vermont Symphony, and as a favor to me, he
took our thirteen-year-old son along for a week of it. It's been a very
quiet week." She sighed happily. "So, Alex, how long can you stay?"
"Not long. I just wanted to touch base, let you know I was still alive..."
"Pick up your stuff ..."
"Well, yeah, that too. And I need to check my e-mail."
"Whatever you need. You know where the computer is. I haven't changed my
password."
"Didn't we talk about that?"
"Jesus, Alex, do you have any idea how many passwords I have to remember
just to log in at work? I need to keep a few things simple, okay? Don't
start."
Alex gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry. At least I don't charge you for the
consultation. Can I take a shower, too?"
"Yes, go ahead. The towels are in the closet. Meanwhile, I'll fill Fox in
on all the dirt from your past...I wonder where I put that yearbook..."
"Mwahaha, you'll never find it! I burned it the last time I was here!"
"Curses! Foiled again!"
Mulder looked from one to the other, bemused. It was just so strange to
think of Alex Krycek having a past. A high school yearbook , for God's
sake.
Evidently some of his thoughts showed on his face, because Alex frowned and
said, "Mulder, you didn't invent me, y'know. I'm sorry to disappoint you,
but I was a pretty normal kid right up through college." He turned to
Debbie. "I'm going to take that shower. Maybe you should let him fill you
in on the dirt from my recent past."
He got up to go, but turned back. "And don't worry, Mulder; if Deb couldn't
keep secrets, I'd be dead by now. Tell her whatever you want."
Series: Road Trip Title: Homecoming Author: Starfish Summary: After the
events of "Existence", things happen. To Mulder, of course. "Cause it's
all about Mulder, after all. Or is it? Bwahaha... Spoilers: Yes, for
Season Eight and other various eps; and if you didn't know Alex lost an arm
in Tunguska, let me be the first to tell you. Yes, he's in this. Surprise!
Rating: R for a little bad language and some lustful thoughts. Woo hoo!
Disclaimer: CC's mean to them. I'm much nicer with my toys...and I make
no money off their pain. Notes: I've followed canon up until the very last
moment of "Existence". This is set about three months after. Thanks to my
way cool beta, Wildy. Hi, hon! This is the promised (threatened?) sequel
to "Rest Stop", and another warning: it's a Mary Sue. ::whines:: Well,
there was a challenge on RatB...okay, I know, last year , but I'm new
'round these parts. Feedback to dbaker01201@yahoo.com
Saturday
Mulder woke slowly. He thought the car had stopped, and from the quality of
the light it looked to be about six a.m. A swift glance out of the window
confirmed the fact that they had stopped, evidently for gas. Krycek was
just coming back to the car from the cashier's window, looking very relaxed.
"Krycek, where the hell are we?"
" Good morning, sleepyhead. I can't believe how you can just fall asleep
in the car like that. We're in Massachusetts. The Berkshires, a little
town called Dalton, to be exact."
"Why?"
"You are incredibly surly without your coffee, aren't you? Can you wait
ten minutes for homemade, or do you want some from the Juice 'n' Java across
the street?"
Mulder considered the question. As usual, he answered with one of his own.
"Whose home?"
"An old friend. She's probably awake by now. I just hope her husband's out
of town." At Mulder's raised eyebrows, Krycek shrugged. "Luke doesn't like
me very much. I make him nervous."
"Lot of that going around," muttered Mulder. Alex raised an eyebrow of his
own.
"I rescued you. Twice just yesterday. What's a guy gotta do , Mulder?"
"Sorry. Old habits...let's go see your friend."
They drove off down the main street of what looked to Mulder to be an
exceptionally pretty town. Wide lawns in front of homes, a couple of banks,
three large churches and a smaller one. A large reddish stone building that
seemed to house the town offices, public library, police station, and
historical museum stood on the corner where they stopped for a red light.
Krycek indicated it with a jerk of his chin as the light turned. "I spent a
lot of time there when I was growing up."
"The police station?"
"No, the library , in fact. Jeez, thanks. I wasn't always a thug,
Mulder."
"Sorry, I just ...shit. I really am sorry. That was...completely uncalled
for. No more cheap shots, okay, Alex? I promise. Tell me about growing up
here. Looks like a nice place."
"Yeah, it was. We lived about two blocks from here. My dad took off when I
was five, so when my mom went to work at the paper mill, she had to find
somebody to take care of me. No daycare in those days, right? So you had
to trust your child to a stranger, without knowing how it would turn out.
We got lucky, I guess. She found the perfect place for me, with a really
nice lady who had a daughter of her own.
"After the first few days, I called her 'Aunt Cathy'. I remember a little
bit about the safe feeling I used to get when Mom left me there. And the
feeling of having a friend."
"Is this the friend we're going to visit?"
"Yeah. She's almost exactly a year younger than me. Her birthday's the day
before mine. That first summer—it's like a dream now, y'know? Like some
mythical place in my head. Aunt Cathy worked part time at the library, two
afternoons a week, and she didn't mind if we went along, as long as we
remembered to be quiet. We had no problem keeping quiet, surrounded by all
those books. In fact, most days it took a crowbar to pry us away. Debbie
is still the only person I've met who loves to read as much as I do. I
remember how jealous she was when I went off to first grade without her.
When I got to the house after that first scary day, she wouldn't rest until
I had told her all about it. We played school until my mom picked me up."
"You were reading on your own at five ?"
"I was two grade levels ahead of my age until I got to fifth grade. Then
they realized how much extra work it would be for the teachers to keep me
going at that pace, so they made me repeat all the stuff I had already
learned. That was the first time the system failed me." He stopped
talking and concentrated on finding a new station on the radio.
Mulder realised he'd been staring at Alex, and looked around. He noticed
they were in a small city now. "Are we still in Dalton?"
"No, this is Pittsfield. She moved here after they got married. Property
values here were more within their budget. I offered to help, but there was
no way Luke would take my money, so...anyway, here we are." He turned
onto a side street. One side had multi- family homes with a Saab dealership
incongruously in the middle. The right side of the street was all
single-family dwellings. Alex turned into the second driveway on the right
and parked behind a green Taurus station wagon with a huge alien-head
sticker on the rear side window. "We're good here. Luke's car's not in the
driveway. Come on."
They got out of the convertible, Mulder feeling slow and stiff after
sleeping for two hours in one position. Alex walked up onto the porch like
he owned the place and tried the doorknob. "Locked. 'S okay, there's a
key." He slid up the screen of the window that flanked the door and fished
around for a second. "Damn, I bet Chaz forgot to put it back again—no,
there it is." He unlocked the door and replaced the key in its hiding
place.
Mulder felt like he was in the Twilight Zone. "Are you sure you should do
that? Is she expecting us?"
"Don't worry about it. It's cool; I do this a lot. Oh, and don't mind the
dog. He sometimes barks at people, but you shouldn't take it personally."
The door was opened, and Mulder followed Alex in. His first impression was
of books, an overflowing set of shelves to the left of the door in the front
hallway. Mostly science fiction, he saw. Heinlein, Bradbury, some of the
older Star Trek novelizations; mixed with a few Dick Francis mysteries and
some Stephen King for variety. Alex had stopped in the middle of the room
and cocked his head, listening.
"The shower's running. I guess she's up. Let's go see about coffee."
They went around the corner into a dark and cluttered dining room, through
to an equally cluttered kitchen. Another overflowing bookshelf held
cookbooks of every size and description. Alex rooted around in a cupboard,
found a coffeemaker and began to set it up on the counter. "Mulder, check
the fridge for coffee, would you? Should be in one of those clear deli
containers."
"There's two."
"Are they labeled?"
"One says 'fine'."
"Grab the other one. Thanks."
Mulder heard the water stop upstairs. He was a bit nervous about being in a
stranger's house, especially when said stranger's husband was: a) out of
town, and b) not fond of Alex. He decided to voice his concerns. "Alex,
should you let her know we're here? Is she likely to be armed?"
Alex snickered. "No, I don't think you have to worry about that. Luke
wouldn't allow a gun in this house. That's one of the things he hates about
me . But I'll let her know she has company." He walked to the foot of the
stairs. "Loooocy! I'm hoooome!"
It was Mulder's turn to snicker. "Who are you?" he asked.
A voice came from the top of the stairs just then. "Alex? Is that you?
Oh, my God! I'll be right down, just let me get dressed. Make coffee,
okay?"
"Already did."
"Uh oh, watch out, Spike heard your voice. Here he comes!"
A medium-sized black and white dog came barreling down the stairs and jumped
at Alex, pushing his nose into personal places in that way that only dogs
understand. "Hey, Spike! You wanna go out? Come on, let's go." Alex
looked at Mulder. "Stay."
"Very funny."
"I'll be right back. He's gotta go out in the yard. Living room's in
there, have a seat."
Mulder wandered into the living room and sat on the cream-colored leather
couch. He looked at the large collection of videos beside the television—
again, mostly sci-fi, with some Marx Brothers and Hitchcock thrown in. The
place was almost as messy as his own apartment, and it felt comfortable. He
picked up the remote off the coffee table and turned on the television,
scanning the channels until he found CNN. //Not that they'll actually
tell us if the aliens decide it's the right time, but I can pretend, I
suppose.// He flipped past a few infomercials and then heard footsteps on
the stairs.
Gee, this was awkward. Alex was nowhere to be found, and here he was,
sitting on some stranger's couch, waiting for her coffeemaker to finish
perking and watching her t.v. Well, if she'd been friends with Alex Krycek
for as long as he said, she must have learned to expect the unexpected by
now. Mulder turned off the t.v. and stood up. The footsteps resolved into
a petite, dark-haired woman with hazel eyes almost the color of Mulder's
own. She looked at him with some confusion and said, "Did you get some
radical plastic surgery this time?"
"What?" Oh, God, a lunatic. Just what he needed. But at the sound of his
voice, her frown lifted.
"Sorry, I thought you were Alex. Is he out with the dog?"
"Uh, yeah. Listen, I'm sorry for intruding like this, Alex said you
wouldn't mind—"
"And I don't. Alex knows I'd kick his ass if he was in town and didn't stop
by. I'm Debbie. Welcome to Casa de Baker. Sound's like the coffee's done.
Come on."
Mulder noticed she had carefully refrained from asking his name. He
followed her into the kitchen, where she was loading up a large tray with
mugs, creamer, and a bakery box. "Grab the coffeepot, would you? We can
eat on the deck." She led the way through a room filled with more records,
tapes and CD's than Mulder had ever seen outside of a music store. "This is
my husband's practice room. He's out of town on a gig."
They went out to a large deck where Alex was sitting on a bench that ran
along the railing. He looked up from his study of the hole the dog was
digging, and smiled. "Hey, Deb, it's good to see you." She put down the
tray on the table and stood with an expectant look.
"Do I get a hug, or are you too good for that now?"
He replied in a teasing tone. "And give the neighbors a show? What about
your reputation?"
"The neighbors speak about two words of English, Alex. We can't even figure
out where they're from . And my reputation can only get better." She took
the three steps over to him as he stood up, and hugged him hard. "Jesus,
Alex, I thought you were gone for good this time." Her voice was muffled by
Alex's shoulder, and he smoothed her hair with his good hand.
"That'll never happen, Deb. Ask my friend here, not much happens to me for
good ." He quirked an eyebrow at Mulder. "Right?"
"Asshole. You could have called once or twice. Come on, sit down and
eat. Who is your friend?"
"This is Mulder."
She gave Mulder an odd look. "Interesting name. Your parents could only
afford the one?"
Alex tried to explain. "He really hates his first name. It's kind of a—"
"It's Fox."
Alex stared at Mulder in amazement. "I've known you for seven years ,
Scully's known you for eight; you met her ten minutes ago, and she gets
to call you 'Fox'?"
Mulder grinned. "I'm quirky that way."
"You are not quirky , you're—oh never mind. Pour me some coffee and
pass the danish."
Mulder turned to Deb to explain. "He's jealous."
"Am not." Alex stuck out his tongue.
They drank coffee and ate danish, listening to the birds and watching the
dog roll around in the grass. Alex broke the silence finally.
"So where's Luke?"
"He had a gig in Vermont and took Chaz with him. They're gone until Sunday
night." She turned to Mulder. "My husband plays the double bass. He's in
the middle of a tour with the Vermont Symphony, and as a favor to me, he
took our thirteen-year-old son along for a week of it. It's been a very
quiet week." She sighed happily. "So, Alex, how long can you stay?"
"Not long. I just wanted to touch base, let you know I was still alive..."
"Pick up your stuff ..."
"Well, yeah, that too. And I need to check my e-mail."
"Whatever you need. You know where the computer is. I haven't changed my
password."
"Didn't we talk about that?"
"Jesus, Alex, do you have any idea how many passwords I have to remember
just to log in at work? I need to keep a few things simple, okay? Don't
start."
Alex gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry. At least I don't charge you for the
consultation. Can I take a shower, too?"
"Yes, go ahead. The towels are in the closet. Meanwhile, I'll fill Fox in
on all the dirt from your past...I wonder where I put that yearbook..."
"Mwahaha, you'll never find it! I burned it the last time I was here!"
"Curses! Foiled again!"
Mulder looked from one to the other, bemused. It was just so strange to
think of Alex Krycek having a past. A high school yearbook , for God's
sake.
Evidently some of his thoughts showed on his face, because Alex frowned and
said, "Mulder, you didn't invent me, y'know. I'm sorry to disappoint you,
but I was a pretty normal kid right up through college." He turned to
Debbie. "I'm going to take that shower. Maybe you should let him fill you
in on the dirt from my recent past."
He got up to go, but turned back. "And don't worry, Mulder; if Deb couldn't
keep secrets, I'd be dead by now. Tell her whatever you want."
Road Trip
by Starfish
Homecoming
Saturday
