"What?"
"Jesus Christ, Mulder. I thought we'd gotten passed that stage."
Alex wiped, ineffectually, at the blood pouring from his nose before climbing
groggily back to his feet. This was not the first time his ex-partner had
launched an unprovoked attack at him. However, following on from the revelations
he had made in Mulder's apartment only a few short months ago, he thought they
had reached some form of understanding, perhaps even a truce. He pushed past
Mulder and staggered across the room, trailing drips of blood, and reached
across to grab a handful of Kleenex from a box on the table. He grimaced when he
recalled why Mulder placed the tissues there, remembering from his surveillance
days how Mulder liked to entertain himself in front of the television.
Alex tipped back his head and held the bundle under his nose to stem the flow. A
glance sideways revealed Mulder still frozen in place by the open door with a
look of total confusion written across the handsome features. Mulder was
cradling his right hand in his left, making Alex realise, with some
satisfaction, that the blow had done more than damage his nose—and bruise his
ass and ego when he fell. Alex ignored Mulder and wandered over to the couch
where he sank down, dropping his head backwards with his hand still pressing the
tissues tightly to his abused nose.
"You're bleeding all over my couch."
"Well, whose fault is that? Hell, I even knocked this time. Jeez, Mulder, d'you
punch every person who knocks on your door? Probably explains why Scully rarely
comes around."
Guilt crept across Mulder's face, replacing the confusion, which only made him
appear angrier. Alex could guess at the thoughts that tumbled through that
brilliant mind. 'What right did he have to make him feel guilty? He was a
no-good, lying, murdering scumbag with a moral dipstick two drops short of bone
dry, and he deserved every body blow he received'.
Alex grimaced as he recalled the harsh words Mulder had used just before that
ill-fated trip to Tunguska, and almost missed the start of Mulder's tirade.
"Just because you spun me a tale about Rebel Aliens doesn't mean we're friends.
You killed—"
"Your father, Scully's sister, the tram operator, the guy in the truck at the
warehouse. I threw a man over Skinner's balcony and watched him hurtle God knows
how many floors to splatter over the pavement. I've also aided in a few suicides
- held the rope steady... Oh, and don't forget, I'm a thug too. I beat up
Skinner. Though he got some of his own back so he has no cause to complain."
Mulder laughed aloud in horrified amazement.
"No denial? No remorse? No 'They made me do it'? No 'I was just being a good
little soldier, following orders for the greater good of the planet'? What about
all that shit you spouted. Quote. 'I love this country'. Unquote"
They stared each other out for a few seconds—incredulity on one face and
pain-filled annoyance on the other as Alex dabbed at his nose—before Alex
replied.
"Which country?"
"Gee, I forgot. You play every side... preferably against the other. What are
you this week? Russian? American? Guatemalan?"
Alex brought his head back down, carefully removing the blood- soaked tissues
and dropping them onto the coffee table. He sniffed and screwed up his nose as
the ferric taste of blood entered his mouth.
"I'm on my own side."
"Well, I'd never have guessed." Sarcasm dripped with every word and gesture as
Mulder settled on the far end of the couch. They fell into an uncomfortable
silence until Mulder decided to stir things up again. "So you did kill my
father."
"Oh God, if it will shut you up. YES. Yes I killed your fucking father. Okay?"
Alex snarled at the closed expression while dabbing at his nose with some fresh
Kleenex. "The slime bag had it coming to him. He was about to... to blow the lid
off it all. They couldn't have that. Just be thankful he died before passing on
any secrets or you would have been next."
"You'd have killed me too?"
Alex closed his eyes and sighed. "No. But someone would have. Cardinal
probably."
Mulder looked away before adding softly, "you didn't do a very good job. He was
still alive when I found him."
"Yeah, well. I slipped in the shower while pulling the trigger. I decided to get
outta there before my brains joined his on the bathroom floor."
Alex tried not to look furtive, aware that he had revealed enough for any other
FBI agent to consider it a true confession, but Mulder was not any other agent.
He was not the kind to take anything at face value even when all the facts
seemed to be pointing that way.
"Then why did you lie in Hong Kong?"
Sure enough, Alex could read uncertainty in the far too expressive eyes and in
the low tone of voice, but he was unsure which way to go. He knew Mulder had
learned enough about his father's role in the conspiracy—and in his sister's
subsequent abduction—to have lost whatever childhood awe for his father had
followed him into manhood. It occurred to Alex that Mulder's continued anger
towards him might have nothing to do with the actual murder but rather with his
betrayal of trust. Perhaps the truth was of little consequence, and if a lie
could get Mulder to trust him once more...
"Are you for real? You'd have gutted me if I told you then. Tape or no tape."
Mulder sighed still unsure whether he should believe this newly offered truth,
especially as there was positive proof that Luis Cardinal had shot Melissa
Scully—and not Krycek. Also—and he wondered if Krycek knew this—the tram
operator had shown up several months later on one of those 'Do you know this
man?' shows. A bit of a kick in the teeth for the FBI who had been trying to pin
a murder charge on Krycek for months but, apparently, the blow to the man's head
- most definitely from Krycek—had given him amnesia. The unfortunate man had
wandered the country as a hobo until being rescued by the Salvation Army. As to
the truck driver... The man had been a full-paying member of an extremist group
and had been fully armed at the time. FBI agents had found the man's gun in the
foot well making a 'self- defence' claim plausible.
So what was the truth? Krycek had once stated that there was no truth, that they
made it up as they went along. So, did Krycek really kill his father? Another
sigh. The man was so full of contradiction that Mulder doubted he'd ever get to
the truth. The truth for Alex Krycek seemed to be whatever felt good on the day
- or would buy him out of a tricky situation. Krycek was a born survivor.
Mulder remembered his psychology training and wondered if he should consider
Krycek a compulsive liar—but then he realised Alex did tell him the truth;
directly on occasion but most often obliquely. He just had to listen carefully
and then fill in all the gaps. Was this another of those occasions where Alex
was saying one thing but meaning another? Did he kill his father, or was he just
offering up a well-documented scenario?
The shower?
Forensics had held back the pertinent information that the killing shot had come
from beyond the bathroom window but they believed someone had been standing in
the shower at the time of his father's death. Why would Krycek mention the
shower? Was he the man who had stood there? One thing Mulder had learned was
that Consortium assassins tended to work in pairs, so if Alex was the one
standing in the shower then who was the one outside the window? Cardinal? Or had
Krycek been working alone? In which case, why had he stood in the shower and
then shot his father through the open window?
His head was beginning to spin and throb at the thought of trying to unravel the
enigma that was Alex Krycek, so he decided to quit while he was ahead.
"So... what are you doing here?"
Alex rubbed the wad of Kleenex under his nose one more time before throwing the
red, blood sodden rags onto the coffee table next to the other pile.
"Just visiting."
"Ha!"
The barked laugh echoed around the apartment and Alex noticed, for the first
time, that the television was not on. Must be an X- File, he thought to himself
wickedly.
"Cummon, Krycek. Give."
"Everything has to have a reason with you. Maybe I wanted some company. You
know it's real lonely working on your own, especially now..."
His thoughts carried on where his mouth left off. The Well- Manicured Man had
been scattered across a seedy alleyway along with his car and driver. Thank God
he didn't ask me to drive that night, he thought wryly. However, the
Englishman's demise had left him high and dry once more, with very few contacts
within the Resistance or the Consortium to consolidate his position. On its own,
this was not a major problem. He would build on what he had and, eventually, he
would grind the Consortium into the dust—along with all the other alien
conspirators who would see every human on this planet either enslaved or dead.
His main problem was an embarrassing lack of finance.
Although the Englishman had been good for a few thousand bucks, that was not
enough to keep him in prosthetic arms let alone build and run a Human Resistance
to Colonisation. What money he still retained was little more than pocket
change; not that he'd let Mulder learn that he had earned it mostly on his hand
and knees servicing the Englishman. The Englishman had locked the real money
away in secret accounts and Mulder, unwittingly, had the codes to unlock that
finance. Secretly, the Englishman had passed them onto him along with the
vaccine that Mulder used to save Scully's life.
The reasoning had been sound for the Englishman had spent the past two years
priming Mulder to take a leading role in the Resistance. He wanted Alex to join
forces with Mulder, being convinced that they would be a formidable team, and
the only way to ensure that happened was to give each of them half of the
'empire'. Alex had the key contacts of people—and aliens—who opposed
Colonisation, but Mulder had the resources.
However, Alex was not ready to place his life into Mulder's hands... not when he
might be able to retrieve the necessary information from the former-FBI agent
through subterfuge. He rubbed his nose gently, making a big scene out of it to
tug on Mulder's guilt strings. Thankfully, neither were broken. Alex was only
grateful his reactions had been so fast—pulling back from the lightning strike
to lessen the impact—otherwise he would be sporting two black eyes and a
broken nose rather than just a sore nose.
"I suppose you want me to kiss it better." The dry monotone revealed a mountain
of guilt and brought a lecherous grin flying across Alex's face and, with it,
wide-eyed astonishment on Mulder's. "You gotta be kidding."
Although his words said one thing, Mulder couldn't help the flush of heat that
travelled direct as an arrow to his groin as his body reacted differently. What
was it about Alex Krycek that stirred his blood? This love-hate relationship
that had him wanting to pummel that beautiful face one minute then cover him
with kisses the next. Not that he was about to admit any of this to the rat
bastard.
"And you called me a coward."
The taunt hung in the air like a challenge, boiling Mulder's blood in both lust
and anger. Without warning he dove under Alex's defences and planted a kiss on
the end of his very sore looking, up-turned nose then moved back before Alex
could react. The effect was stunning. Forest green eyes dilated into pools of
midnight-black, and soft, long lashes fluttered, fanning the high cheek bones.
The pale red lips parted, emphasising the Cupid's bow and fleshy bottom lip, and
a rose colour crept across Alex's cheeks and forehead as he flushed with desire.
If Mulder had believed Alex was beautiful before then this new vision before him
had to be that of an angel... or a demon. And then Alex spoke, his voice low and
melodic, sexy and warm, like glazed honey.
"Your fist grazed my cheek as well."
Mulder hesitated then moved forward more slowly this time and planted a soft
kiss on the indicated cheek.
"And this side."
Another soft kiss.
"And here."
Alex traced a finger lightly down the centre of his mouth, dragging slightly on
the bottom lip and waited. He held his breath tightly as Mulder closed the
distance between them. The green eyes fluttered shut at the pressure of lips
against his own and he sighed, expecting Mulder to pull away but, instead,
Mulder increased the pressure. The soft wetness of a tongue tickled Mulder's
sensitive bottom lip and he opened his mouth, tasting and teasing; his own
tongue reaching out to welcome its counterpart. He cupped his hand around the
back of Alex's head, drawing Alex closer until he was crushing their mouths
together. His tongue thrust inside Alex's hot mouth, pushing against the soft
palate, exploring and tasting every reachable surface... but he pulled away
suddenly, leaving Alex open-mouthed and gasping for breath.
Strands of shiny, mahogany hair flopped over the tall forehead, and unfocused,
lust-darkened eyes—with a corona of iris glinting in shades of green and gold
- stared back at him. Alex was breathing heavily, very aware of the thin line
they danced along and yet, considering he had started this, he seemed hesitant
to reach out and step across that line. Mulder brushed his thumb across the
kiss-softened lips, and this one gentle caress was enough to push Alex over the
line. Despite a heavier frame, Alex allowed Mulder to manoeuvre him onto his
back with Mulder's weight pressing down upon him. Their mouths met once more,
tongues battling for supremacy as Mulder began to explore the body beneath him.
He moved his hand under Alex's black leather jacket, tugging at the T-shirt
until it came loose from the waistband of the tight black denim. His hand dived
under the soft cotton to palm across warm flesh and hard muscle. It skimmed
along the side of the ribcage and into the soft forest of hair under the arm,
then back down, and across the muscular chest to tease a nipple. The sensitive
flesh wrinkled beneath one teasing finger; the nub hardening beneath the
onslaught as Mulder pinched and rubbed it between thumb and forefinger. Alex's
deep moan of pleasure reverberated through their joined mouths and down into
Mulder, setting his body aflame with desire as Alex submitted willingly to his
touch.
Mulder broke away and locked gazes with the man beneath him, feeling a renewed
sensation of lust and passion spiral downwards as he saw the flushed, open
expression. He pushed back up to his knees and, after another momentary
hesitation, Mulder reached down to unzip and push aside his sweatpants and
boxers. His erection was hard and solid against his stomach. Then he reached
across to unbuckle the belt on Alex's jeans. Alex made no attempt to help nor
hinder as Mulder popped the button and lowered the zip. The hard shaft sprung
out, freed from its denim prison, and Mulder grinned.
"That's a great time saver but doesn't it get cold down there in winter?"
Alex had the decency to blush, and Mulder wondered if he had deliberately
stripped off his underwear before heading out here, having already decided to
try to seduce him this night.
When Alex's jeans were around his knees, Mulder crawled back up his body until
they were lying face to face. One hand cupped the slightly stubbled chin as he
brought his mouth back down upon Alex's with gentler but no less ardent passion.
He pulled away slightly and then, with insistent hands, urged Alex to turn over
onto his stomach.
The muscular cheeks tightened as Mulder's hand skimmed across them, dragging his
finger nails over the pale globes and leaving multiple red trails in his path.
He lowered his mouth to suck and bite each globe in turn, enjoying the way Alex
flinched and moaned as he formed twin red marks upon the ivory flesh and
branding Alex as his own. The sudden thought of Alex walking around with
'Property of FW Mulder' tattooed across his butt brought forth a chuckle but he
decided against sharing the joke in case Alex didn't see it. Instead he nipped
and kissed the reddened flesh, his hands gently spreading the cheeks until he
could reach the hidden entrance. His tongue lapped softly along the crevice,
feeling the cheeks tighten as he rimmed the dark muscle. The body beneath him
began a slow undulation against the couch below, head arching back and hips
grinding into leather. Mulder moved his hands to those writhing hips and pressed
down hard to still the movement; a choked cry his only response.
"Mulder. Please."
Alex grimaced as a soft, taunting chuckle reached him and he lowered his head
back to the couch in frustration. Sweat trickled down his forehead; the
saltiness stinging his eyes. Trust him to choose a sadist for a lover. He
remained still as Mulder moved back up his body, feeling feather-light kisses
and caresses upon his back. Every touch sent shivers of pleasure radiating
through his body and he moaned softly as Mulder lightly bit into the nape of his
neck before that perfect mouth latched onto his throat. He gasped as Mulder
sucked hard, slowly driven mindless by the heady mixture of pleasure and pain.
Warm wetness stroked over the pulsing flesh, easing the ache, and Alex shivered
as Mulder's tongue assaulted his ear, teasing the outer shell before Mulder drew
the fleshy lobe into the heat of his mouth. He let go, his voice low and husky
as he whispered directly into Alex's ear.
"I don't suppose you came prepared?"
Alex flushed brightly; his head dipping farther into the couch out of view. He
mumbled something that must have been unintelligible and then repeated his
words.
"Jacket. Right pocket."
Mulder must have guessed his intent on coming here was to seduce. It partly
explained the lack of violence against him—apart from that initial thump to
his face. It fazed Alex for a moment as he wondered how Mulder could have known
about his sexual preferences. It had been relatively easy to figure out Mulder's
bisexuality—in spite of the predominantly heterosexual porn titles and
magazines scattered liberally around the apartment. A deeper dig had revealed
the gay flicks, and Mulder had made no effort to conceal his occasional use of
'gay party' phone lines. However, Alex had been far more discreet in his
preference. Certainly, he could not remember a single occasion when he had
displayed any interest in the same sex in front of Mulder—apart from that one
kiss.
He squeezed his eyes shut tight. Perhaps that had been his mistake, but he had
believed Mulder would interpret it as some Russian custom or Judas kiss rather
than a true show of affection.
Mulder reached into the pocket and pulled out lube and condoms. He patted Alex
gently on one asscheek and then unscrewed the lube, placing the cap in Alex's
line of sight as a visual sign of what was about to happen. Alex shivered in
fore-knowledge but made no other movement so Mulder took this as his consent. He
slithered back down the strong torso until he was sitting back on his knees,
looking down at the half naked body sprawled before him. With deft motions, he
squirted a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and paused—a smile playing
about his lips as he debated on whether to apply the freezing gel directly, just
to see Alex jump. However, Mulder decided he liked this warm, languorous feeling
and he wanted to give Alex no reason to back out of this. He heated the gel in
his fingers before reaching forward to stroke the lube into the tight muscle.
Alex groaned as the slicked fingers teased and danced across the sensitive skin
before pushing through the strong muscle. Fresh daggers of fire flashed through
him as the fingers rotated inside, rubbing against tender membranes and
stretching the entrance to his body. He gasped as one finger scraped across his
prostate, over and over, liquid fire flowing into his groin with this new
sensation, and he moaned in dismay when the fingers eventually pulled out.
Mulder shifted behind him, one hand grasping his hip to pull him backward off
the couch onto his knees, the other spreading his cheeks. He lay his head down
on his one forearm for balance, and to brace himself for what was to come. Alex
felt a large bluntness against the loosened muscle and he relaxed his whole body
as Mulder pushed forward; the latex- coated, gel-slickened erection forcing its
way inside. He hissed at the sudden burning sensation, tears prickling at the
back of his eyes, and felt relieved when Mulder stopped to give him time to
adjust to the bulk.
"You okay?"
The concern evident in the whispered words brought fresh tears brimming to the
surface. It had been so long since someone actually cared about the body lying
prone beneath them. A full minute passed before Krycek realised Mulder was
waiting for him to give the go-ahead bringing renewed warmth to his soul. He
sighed and pushed back against Mulder, his action giving Mulder his answer as
the thick rod slid another inch deeper.
Mulder took up the challenge and pulled the narrow hips back, smoothly, until he
had thrust all the way inside. Alex savoured the sensation of Mulder's balls
slapping against his body, and Mulder's thighs pressed tight against his
asscheeks. Then Mulder held still for a moment, as if he was also revelling in
the sensation of their close-pressed bodies, before pulling out almost to the
tip and plunging back hard.
Alex cried out as the blunt organ pushed against his prostate sending licks of
energy surging through him to his nerve endings. A hand groped beneath him,
seeking and finding his own aching flesh; the fingers curling around him. The
warm hand stroked from root to tip, a rough thumb smearing the copious precome
over the head and rubbing across the sensitive bundle of nerve endings to
increase his pleasure. Then the hand travelled back down, pumping him in rhythm
to the pounding in his ass.
His breath shortened into gasps. He threw his head back as a warm sensation
curled around his groin, into his belly and upwards through his chest. Alex
cried out, his vision darkening as he came; thick, creamy fluid jetting out in
spurts across his belly, chest and couch, and over the fingers that still held
him in their grasp.
Mulder yelled as the hot channel contracted around him, the increased friction
pulling him over the edge as wave after wave of intense pleasure travelled from
groin to brain through his over-sensitised nerves. He collapsed across the
shaking body, aware yet uncaring of the rapidly cooling fluid coating his hand
from Krycek's climax, his mind and body still floating on another plane.
Gradually, he came drifting back down to earth. He raised himself slowly, and
then grasped the condom securely around the base to prevent it from slipping as
he withdrew from the pleasure softened channel. Alex sobbed once
as Mulder moved away but he tried to cover the momentary lapse with a cough.
However, when Mulder lay down beside him, Alex wrapped his arm around him to
draw him tightly to his chest.
"What d'you say we clean up and take this to the bedroom?"
"You have a bedroom?"
Mulder chuckled. "Contrary to popular belief, yes, I do have a bedroom. A very
nice bedroom. It's just the cable TV doesn't reach that far."
Alex laughed softly. A logical explanation—and another X-File solved.
Later that night, while lying naked in a loose embrace, Mulder twirled one
finger tip around Alex's nipple, watching intently as the nub hardened into a
point.
"So why did you come here?"
Alex looked away, no longer sure why he had sought out Mulder. He had convinced
himself that he had come here purely to extract information from Mulder. The
profession of loneliness was supposed to be the cover story, as a way of using
the man's neuroses against him.
Keeping a watch on Special Agent Fox Mulder was one of the first assignments
given to him by the Consortium. He knew, from those early days, that Mulder was
a bundle of guilt and regrets. However, it was these negative passions that
drove Mulder so hard to discover the truth. Mulder believed it was all his fault
that they had abducted his sister, and Bill Mulder had never once told him
otherwise. Over the years, it made Alex realise how strong Mulder was. By
rights, a weaker man would have become an emotional cripple but, instead, Mulder
was stronger for all his experiences—and he had seemed obsessed with finding
the truth behind Samantha's abduction.
However, like Alex, Mulder had the ability to set aside his emotions and become
as cold-bloodied as any of the serial killers he had profiled in his career in
the FBI. Even so, there was also a gentleness about Mulder that Alex believed he
could use to his advantage. He had seen the affectionate way Mulder dealt with
victims of crime and society, and he had witnessed the fierce loyalty Mulder had
for his friends—especially Dana Scully and the three computer geeks. Alex
often wondered if Mulder would have given him that same loyalty had he not
proved himself to be a tool of the Consortium. It was moot point now. Mulder had
discovered his duplicity and subsequent actions had forced them down different
paths. Those paths had crossed time and time again, but the Englishman believed
there was no reason why those paths could not merge back into one.
Nevertheless, all of this did not answer Mulder's question. Why had he come
here? Was it only to get the codes? Or had there been a subconscious desire to
know if the constant aggression was just misplaced affection?
I came here for the codes.
Alex closed his eyes, trying to let the single thought dominate. However, lying
here, sated and warm in Mulder's arms, made him realise how easily he could spin
a web of deceit—even around himself. The Englishman had wanted them to work
together but, until now, Alex had been convinced that this could never happen,
and that there was too much pain and betrayal between them.
Now he was confused. Mulder had proved that it was possible to let go of the
past, and of past mistakes. He felt the phantom ache in his missing limb,
understanding why it had chosen this moment to make its presence—or lack of
presence—known. He had his own list of grievances against Mulder, and not just
for the loss of his arm. Could he put them behind him? An inner voice cried out
'yes' but could it really be that simple?
Alex knew there might never be a better opportunity to tell Mulder about the
Englishman and his vision of fighting the Colonist invaders. However, in a
moment of pure selflessness, Alex knew he had to give Mulder the chance to
choose his own path unhindered by what they had just shared. He had to offer
Mulder the chance to regain his coveted X-Files.
Mulder waited patiently beside Alex, his fingers trailing over the warm flesh as
he wondered what thoughts were flashing through the quicksilver mind. If Alex
had answered immediately then Mulder was certain he would have had difficulty
believing whatever Alex said, but Alex had been deep in thought for several
minutes. Some instinct told him that they stood at a cross-roads, and the
direction each of them travelled from this point onwards would depend solely on
Alex.
His fingers drifted upwards, tracing the curve of an almost elfin ear, and he
thought about this analogy of a crossroads. He had been standing at this point,
waiting for a clue as to which direction he should take, since returning from
the Antarctic. He had several paths set out before him, each enticing him to
take that first step but Alex's arrival had revealed another path that had been
concealed from him until now. All the paths led into danger eventually, either
directly or through complacency, but Mulder had never been one to sit back and
let life happen to him so he had already discarded those that offered an easy
route.
His thoughts evaporated, his stomach flipping in awe as Alex looked back at him;
an angelic smile on the beautiful face belying the devilry in the forest green
eyes.
"You want a reason? Okay, I'll give you a reason. A Christmas present—only you
get to choose. Two choices... but both will cost—"
"I thought it was a present."
Alex smiled mischievously and his eyes glittered in playfulness.
"Perhaps 'cost' is the wrong word." He held up one finger. "One: Do you want the
X-Files back? Or two." A second finger joined the first. "Do you want to get
some payback on Spender and Fowley?"
Mulder frowned. Did he want the X-Files back? That was one of the paths set out
before him. He recalled telling Scully that he had set up the X-Files in order
to investigate the disappearance of his sister. Although he still didn't know
exactly what had happened to Samantha, he suspected that they had snatched her
for the tests. He chewed at his bottom lip thoughtfully, as he considered all
that he had learned over the last few years. He had discovered the depth of the
conspiracy against mankind, and he knew there was more to learn, but was the
X-Files the right place to continue that work?
The X-Files were certainly more interesting than the run-of-the- mill FBI cases,
but did he want to stay in the FBI? Recently, a stranger had approached him to
join an outside group called 'Millennium'. The work sounded far more interesting
but it surprised him how little he cared about other paranormal incidents now
that he had seen the truth of an alien conspiracy with his own eyes. Half
remembered images of the Colonist mothership out on the ice fields of the
Antarctic filled his mind for a moment. Mulder realised that he was eager to
narrow his vision down to the Conspiracy with a part of him wanting to be that
old-fashioned comic book superhero who saved humanity from alien conquest.
Although the X-Files could give him the resources he needed, it came with a
price tag that he was not certain he was willing to pay. Certainly, the offer
from the Millennium group would give him a similar amount of resources and
freedom, but what did he really know about them except what he had gleaned
through the Gunmen. There were other paths still standing in front of him for
other choices he could make, and he suspected that Alex's path—although still
camouflaged—would offer him the greatest chance of finding the answers he had
sought so desperately for so long.
Mulder's eyes glowed as he thought of the two choices Alex was offering. If not
the X-Files then... the impish pleasure dropped from his face almost
immediately.
"If you're planning to maim or kill them then I want no part of it."
Alex grinned, his eyes lighting with a joy that encompassed everything around
him, and Mulder realised it was the response Alex had been hoping for. It had
revealed to Alex that he was ready to choose a different path from the one he
had followed all of these years.
"Just a little egg on their faces, perhaps?"
Mulder's grin grew wider as he contemplated all the ways Alex could torment
Diana Fowley and the Jeffrey Spender. Then he frowned as he considered the price
Alex might exact for this little retribution.
"So, what's the price?"
"Oh, I think you know."
Alex trailed one finger along the length of Mulder's shaft, smiling
mischievously as it began to lengthen. Mulder grinned, stroking one hand through
the thick strands of mahogany hair as Alex snuggled into the curve of his neck.
No doubt Alex would reveal his true motives in time, but as Mulder took the
first step down his newly chosen path, he knew that every moment spent with Alex
was a price he'd be willing to pay over and over again.
Chosen Paths
by Tarlan
"What d'you... do that for?"
I came here for the codes.
I came here for the codes.
