by Gaby
He looked at the glaringly white walls of the room he was
captured in, not knowing where he was or how he got there. He
couldn't find a door or a window, ceiling and floor were just
as white as the walls, making it appear as if he was caged
inside a cloud.
Not a feeling he cherished.
Still debating with himself what to do, he startled when
suddenly an older man appeared in front of him, literally out
of nowhere. Jumping back and making an instinctive grab for a
gun he wasn't carrying, Krycek frowned and then yelled, "Who
the hell are you and why are you keeping me here?"
The other man smiled benignly, smoothing back the shock of
white hair before stroking his equally white long beard.
"Well, young man, I am the Coordinator," he introduced
himself with a small bow. "And we don't keep you here. You
were...brought here. And let me assure you, we are very happy
to have you."
Krycek scowled. "Coordinator?" he muttered. "Coordinator of
what? And why are you happy to have me? Where is this 'here'?
How did you-"
"Now, now, one question at a time, young man," the
Coordinator chided softly, as if talking to a stubborn child.
Krycek felt his hackles rising. "I am the Coordinator," he
repeated, as if this explained everything. "As for why you're
here and why we're happy to have you, well, you died before
your time, and frankly, everyone was a little surprised by
your arrival. It was decided to 'park' you here for the time
being since we're a little short-handed. So, while you're
waiting to be processed, you can help us out."
Krycek closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had no idea
what the old fella was blathering about. The confusion seemed
to show on his face because the other man hastened to
explain.
"There's this nasty case of the flu going around right now,
and we need some substitutes. Since our work requires a
certain amount of special knowledge and skill, it's difficult
to find good help. You're the first they sent us. I take it
you're a sharp shooter?"
Krycek's head snapped up, and he glared at the other man.
"Why do you want to know?" he asked suspiciously. He couldn't
believe it. He was dead, for chrissakes, and even in the
afterlife they wanted him as a professional hitman? Could
life get any stranger?
"Well, young man, to do the job properly, one must know how
to hit a target," the older man replied calmly. "And it's an
especially busy time of year for us, getting closer to
Valentine's Day, so we need all the help we can get."
As if that explained anything! Krycek shook his head,
desperately trying to fight the migraine that was beginning
to throb behind his eyes. "Valentine's Day? What the hell
kind of a job are you talking about?" He really wasn't cut
out to write Hallmark cards!
"Well, the most wonderful and fulfilling job of them all!
Cupid's job!" the older man exclaimed excitedly, waving his
arms around and giving Krycek a blinding smile.
"Cupid?" Krycek screeched, unbelieving. "You mean, you're
seriously trying to tell me...you're saying there really is a
Cupid?" He snorted sarcastically.
"Well, of course not," the Coordinator replied, shaking his
head in disbelief. "There is no The Cupid. Just like there
is no The Santa Claus, or The Tooth Fairy. They all have
their little helpers. One person alone couldn't do all the
work! Don't be silly!"
The migraine was getting worse. Krycek sighed. "Tooth Fairy,
eh?" he growled. "Right. Santa Claus. Uh-huh. And Cupid." He
shook his head again. "So, there are dozens of little guys
wearing skimpy white robes wrapped around their bodies,
floating about and shooting arrows at innocent people, all in
the name of love?"
If he did hear the sarcasm in Krycek's voice, the Coordinator
chose to ignore it. Instead, he gave a proud smile, happy
that his latest helper apparently finally got it. "Exactly!"
he exclaimed. "But most of them are down with the flu, so
we've been looking for replacement. Don't worry, it's only
temporary, until the regulars are back. By then it should
also be decided what to do with you. Let me tell you, we were
all very surprised and shocked by your early death."
"Don't remind me," Krycek muttered, absently rubbing his
forehead—and startling when he realized there was no bullet
hole. "What the hell-" he yelled in shock, before he stared
down and discovered a perfectly healthy left arm and hand. He
screamed again, then fainted.
The Coordinator sighed and gently placed a cold cloth on
Krycek's forehead again. This sometimes happened to the new
arrivals, the shock wearing them out, but he had been sure
that this one was tough enough to keep a grip on reality.
Apparently not.
Krycek stirred and slowly opened his eyes, only to groan in
frustration when he stared at the Coordinator's smiling face.
So it hadn't been a dream after all. Damn. Double damn.
"Glad to see you're back among the living," the older man
quipped, then chuckled. "Well, figuratively speaking, of
course. We're all still dead around here." He gave a very
uncharacteristic giggle, then sobered up. "Okay, listen. We
always try to send our task forces to areas they know well.
We're especially short-handed in the DC area right now, and
I've heard you used to live there. So, we're sending you
there." He smiled broadly, as if these news should excite the
younger man.
Krycek, however, was most definitely not happy. "Washington
DC? Why the hell should I want to go back there?" he growled.
"I was shot there. Killed in cold blood. Bad things happened
to me there. Lots of bad things." Not to mention the fact
that the man he loved more than anything lived there. Krycek
gave a wistful sigh and shoved the mental image of pouty lips
and soulful hazel eyes out of his head.
"Well, then it's decided," the Coordinator replied, clapping
his hands together as if he hadn't heard Krycek's refusal. He
helped the younger man to sit up from the—glaringly white—couch he had been lying on. "Your job is actually very easy.
You have now the ability to find each person's true soulmate.
All you have to do is concentrate on the person in front of
you, and you'll be able to see inside their soul. Once you
know that person's soulmate, you write the name on the arrow
and then shoot the arrow at the person. Voila, a match made
in heaven."
"I didn't know it worked like that," Krycek muttered
sarcastically. He was convinced all of this still was a very
bad dream.
"Don't mind the silly rumors and folk tales, Alex. Pretty
name you have, by the way. So anyway, here you go. Here's
your bow and your arrows. Once you've matched everyone that
is in need of their soulmate, you'll have done your job and
can return here to be processed."
"Processed?" Krycek stared at the bow in his hand, trying to
convince himself that it was a hallucination.
"Yes. By the time you get back, I'm sure they've decided
whether you're going up or down. You know." The Coordinator
pointed to the ceiling and the floor, wiggling his eyebrows
meaningfully. Krycek gaped. "Or they'll come up with
something else. They sometimes do with people who ended up
here too soon." The older man shrugged, then his face
brightened again. "But don't worry your pretty head, Alex
dear. And such a pretty head it is! Now off you go, and do a
good job!" He made an encouraging shooing motion with both
hands, and before Krycek could open his mouth to protest, he
vanished with a poof.
This had to be a joke, Krycek concluded a second later,
staring in disbelief up and down the hallway. He was standing
in the middle of a fucking hallway in what he knew to be the
fucking headquarter of the fucking Eff Bee fucking Eye. A
universal joke, and of course it was on him.
For a terrifying moment he tried to find an escape route,
knowing he'd be dead meat if found here, and then realizing
that nobody noticed him. People were milling about, walking
past him—and through him, he discovered with a shriek
when one young agent hastened down the hall without looking
left or right.
Krycek stared down at himself, trying to see if he was
bleeding anywhere, and shrieked again when he realized that
he was wearing nothing but a white robe wrapped around his
otherwise naked body.
Universal joke. Had to be.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Krycek closed his eyes and
tried to focus.
Find someone who needs a soulmate...find someone who needs a
soulmate...find someone who needs-
Eyes snapping open, Krycek made a beeline down the hall and
turned left, walking into the bullpen. A young, slightly
plain looking young woman with the kindest eyes he had ever
seen, was sitting at a desk and reading a report. Krycek
stopped in front of her, somehow feeling that she needed his
help. The whole thing still freaked him out, but he had the
sudden urge to help the woman, so he closed his eyes and
concentrated on her. After only a few minutes, he had a clear
vision of a tall blond man. Not knowing how or why, but
realizing that he somehow knew the man's name, Krycek
dutifully grabbed a pen out of the folds of his robe,
scribbled the name on one of his arrows, took aim and shot it
at the woman.
Holding his breath, half expecting her to collapse with a
howl of pain, Krycek was surprised when all the woman did was
shake her head as if to clear it. Then she smiled gently to
herself, grabbed the phone and dialed a number. Krycek knew
instinctively that it was the blond man on the other end of
the line, and from the gently whispered nothings she giggled
into the phone, he realized that he had just made his first
match.
Grinning like an idiot, Krycek felt immensely proud of
himself and left the bullpen.
The whole matchmaking thing turned out to be fun, Krycek had
to admit. He also realized that he could actually float—not
really fly but sort of hover above the ground—and he was
able to go through walls. Nobody saw him, a fact he was most
definitely grateful for, because he didn't want to be caught
dead in this ridiculous outfit. Then he reminded himself that
he was, indeed, already dead, and that depressed him. Once
he realized he couldn't eat or drink, he grew definitely
morose. Life, even afterlife, wasn't worth shit when you
couldn't eat chocolate!
Still, over the course of the next couple of weeks, he
managed to make more matches than anyone in the history of
Cupid. And he had to admit, the job was actually fun. He
liked to see happy people for a change, and the knowledge
that he had provided Mulder with enough information to stop
colonization, so that said happy people would be able to live
a long and very human life, made him happy as well. The
thought of Mulder, however, depressed him again. He loved the
guy. Hell, he had loved his former boss as well once, had
still had feelings for him, in a twisted kind of way...until
the bastard had shot him down in cold blood. That particular
memory depressed him even more, and he promised himself to
stay clear of the Hoover building for the time being.
Krycek was floating above the Reflection Pool on his back,
hands behind his head, staring happily at the blue sky. Life
was good. Or afterlife, for that matter. He had been a busy
little bee, finding soulmates for anyone and everyone he met.
Krycek wondered idly if they had an Employee of the Month
kind of a thing wherever that weird Coordinator dude was
working, and if he'd already qualify even though he hadn't,
strictly speaking, worked for an entire month yet.
Suddenly hearing the old man's voice startled Krycek so badly
that he almost dropped into the water. Catching himself at
the last second, and briefly wondering if he really could get
wet, he looked around frantically, trying to find the old
man, but not seeing him anywhere.
"I'm not with you, Alex," the Coordinator chuckled. "We're
talking telepathically."
"I don't like people poking around my head," Krycek grumbled,
glaring around menacingly even though there was nobody in the
near vicinity. Still, it made him feel slightly better. "What
do you want?"
"Actually, I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done,"
the Coordinator said gleefully. "You managed to make everyone
happy in DC. That's unheard of! Well, almost everyone. We
have two lost souls still, Alex, and you need to save them.
Once that is accomplished, your job is done and you can
return to us."
"And then what?" Krycek asked suspiciously. He had been given
this a lot of thought, and somehow he feared his ticket would
send him downstairs, not upstairs. He really wasn't too
thrilled about that.
"Then you can decide what you want to do," came the reply.
"It has been decided that, even though you did some bad
things in your life, you've done tremendous work in your
afterlife, so you'll have a second chance. You may choose to
do anything you desire, Alex, go wherever you want to go."
Hmm, that sounded better. Krycek briefly wondered if he maybe
could keep his job, and then decided that choosing to "do
anything" also included deciding on a job. He would talk to
the Coordinator once they'd meet again.
"Okay, I'll go take care of these two lost souls," he
announced, closing his eyes to concentrate. He had learned
fairly easy how to tune out everything other than lost souls,
and he quickly realized that both of them were to be found in
the Hoover building. He hung his head in defeat. Of course.
Universal joke again. He sighed and floated towards the FBI
headquarters.
His instinct brought him up to the fifth floor, and he was
surprised to find himself in Skinner's inner sanctum. Krycek
frowned, not believing what was going on. Still,
concentrating on the big man did reveal a hurting, lost soul,
and that only meant one thing: Krycek had to help the man or
he wouldn't be allowed to return to...wherever the
Coordinator was hanging out.
Krycek sighed, slightly put-upon, and grabbed an arrow. No
big mystery who the soulmate was, he concluded without
checking, and scribbled the name of Skinner's PA, Kim, on the
arrow.
With intense delight, Krycek aimed the arrow at the big man's
forehead, right where he had been shot, and let go.
Skinner, bent over a report in deep concentration, suddenly
frowned and rubbed his forehead absently, as if something was
itching there. Krycek frowned as well. He had never seen that
particular reaction before. Not sure what to do, he decided
that Skinner was probably just too anal to go with the flow
and show his feelings openly. Maybe he had to help along a
little, Krycek told himself, grabbing a new arrow and
scribbling Skinner's name on it.
Once that one was shot at Kim, he reasoned, she would make
the first move and Skinner wouldn't be able to hold back.
Grinning inwardly and congratulating himself for being
brilliant, Krycek took aim through the closed door, knowing
where Kim's desk was and where she usually sat, and shot the
arrow.
A second later, he heard a strange yelp. Suddenly having a
very bad feeling about this, he floated through the closed
door and gaped in shock at Fox Mulder, bent over Kim's desk—both of them having obviously been busy gossiping—and
rubbing his ass.
"Something poked me in the butt," Mulder muttered petulantly.
"What the hell was that?"
Oh no. No, no, no! That was wrong, so wrong! Krycek cursed in
four languages and frantically reached for another arrow,
trying to get it ready in record time to aim at Kim. That's
what you get for shooting through closed doors, Alex, you
idiot, he chided himself.
But why the hell had Mulder felt the arrow? Krycek could
still clearly see it sticking out of Mulder's shapely behind,
though the other man couldn't grab it. His hand constantly
rubbed through it, as if it weren't there.
The door to Skinner's office was opened, and the big man
poked his head through. "What's going on?" he growled in that
voice that had always caused Krycek's dick to harden. He
startled, not expecting the big man to appear, and dropped
the arrow he was preparing. Cursing, he bent down to retrieve
it, only to come face to face with Mulder's ass. His shaking
fingers dropped the arrow again. Krycek swallowed hard.
Twice.
"S-sir?" Mulder stood up, looking at his boss with a confused
look on his face. "I came by to...I was just...there's
been...I had...uh..." His voice trailed off, and a slightly
goofy smile appeared on his face.
Skinner stared at his agent with an intense look on his face.
He blushed slowly. "A-agent M-Mulder," he stammered finally.
"Uh, what a nice surprise to find you h-here..."
Krycek slowly stood up, half-forgotten arrow in hand. He
narrowed his eyes suspiciously when he realized the two men
were making definite cow eyes at each other.
"Um, h-happy Valentine's Day, s-sir," Mulder finally
muttered, dropping his head shyly.
"To you, too, Mulder. To you, too," was Skinner's croaked
reply. When the silence stretched on, he finally added,
blushing furiously, "That suit really looks good on you. I,
uh, I always meant to tell you."
Mulder's eyes peeked up through long eyelashes. "Thank you,
sir, that's very kind," he whispered. "I really like your new
glasses, by the way."
Krycek rolled his eyes. That was pathetic! He couldn't
believe that those two...! Hey, wait a minute! The big guy,
the man he had had the hots for right until he turned into a
cold-blooded killer, was making a pass at his man! Krycek
fumed inwardly. That was not the way things were supposed
to go!
Grabbing three arrows at once, he shot the ones marked
"Walter Skinner" at Kim, while taking three stating "Dana
Scully" and shooting them at Mulder. Nothing happened.
Instead, Skinner invited Mulder into his office, closing the
door firmly behind them.
Krycek cursed again and followed the men, crashing through
the closed door and hating the fact that he could pass
through solid material. He was definitely in the mood to
either slam doors or throw some things.
Mulder and Skinner were sitting on the couch, too close to
each other for Krycek's taste. He scowled menacingly.
"Mulder, I don't know how to tell you this, hell, I don't
even understand it myself," Skinner began. "But somehow,
maybe it's the fact that today's Valentine's Day, but I
just...I mean...you have to know that I've had certain
feelings for you for a long time. I..." He trailed off,
ducking his head in embarrassment. "I know it's wrong. You're
my subordinate, my male subordinate. You love Scully. I'm
not trying to make a pass at you or anything, I've always
tried to act correctly. It's just that-"
He was stopped by a gentle finger on his lips. "Shh," Mulder
whispered. "Yes, I am your subordinate. And yes, last time I
looked, I was still male." That brought a small smile to
Skinner's lips. "And yes, I love Scully. But I'm not in
love with her. I'm in love with someone else. Have been for
the longest time." When Skinner gave him an inquisitive,
slightly blank look, Mulder slowly bent forward and placed a
soft kiss on the other man's lips. "Happy Valentine's Day,
Walter," he whispered.
"Fuck, I can't stand it anymore," Krycek yelled, staring at
the ceiling. "Hey, Coordinator! Old guy! Are you trying to
torture me here or what? You said two lost souls. Looks like
I found 'em and made 'em happy. Now do me a fucking favor and
come pick me up! Beam me up, Scotty! Whatever you have to do,
just get me out of here, okay?"
The desperate tone of voice increased his each syllable,
while Mulder and Skinner began to gently explore each other's
mouths and faces with tender kisses and soft strokes of
fingertips.
With a poof of white smoke, the Coordinator suddenly appeared
next to Krycek. He sighed happily, staring at the two men on
the couch. "Isn't this the most beautiful sight you've ever
seen?" he asked gleefully. "That alone is worth the effort,
isn't it? Seeing the result makes the work worthwhile."
Yeah, I used to think so too, Krycek muttered inwardly,
glaring at the couple on the couch. It hurt like hell,
watching them trading gentle kisses. It was like dying all
over again.
"Can we just leave, please?" he begged with a forlorn look on
his face.
"That depends, Alex."
"On what?"
"On what you want to do now. Where you want to go."
Krycek sighed. "What are my options?" he asked despondently,
thinking that a trip downstairs sounded pretty fucking damn
good right about now.
"Well, you can go up or down," the Coordinator explained,
jerking his thumb at the ceiling and the floor again. "Or you
can stay right here."
Krycek glared at the old man in disbelief. "Stay here? I just
told you I want to leave! The sooner the better!" He closed
his eyes, not wanting to even glimpse at the happiness on the
couch.
The Coordinator leaned in and whispered conspiratorially,
"You know, you might want to change your opinion in a
moment..."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Krycek willed himself away. It
had been easy in the past, he just thought of a place and
pronto, he was there. But no matter how much he envisioned
the Reflection Pool or the Lincoln Memorial, he stood rooted
to the spot in Walter fucking Skinner's office.
"You know, Mulder, I have something to confess," the big man
mumbled softly when they came up for air.
"I don't want to hear it unless you start calling me Fox,"
Mulder mumbled back, happily snuggling closer to Skinner. The
big man smiled and wrapped his arms around his Valentine.
"Fox," he said slowly, as if trying it on for size. He liked
the way it sounded. A lot. "Fox, I think we need to be honest
with each other. Right from the start. I want to do this
right. I've screwed up enough relationships with my stoic
behavior, closing off, not talking. I don't want that to
happen to us. I've finally found you and I don't want to lose
you again."
Mulder nodded against the broad chest. "Ditto," he mumbled,
then he tilted his face up and gave Skinner a brilliant
smile. "I have something to confess, too."
"Oh?" Skinner's eyebrows climbed up. "Okay, who goes first?"
Thinking for a second, Mulder decided, "Me." He took a deep
breath. "Okay, here goes. Um, I've always felt something for
you, I never really knew what it was, never really wanted to
admit it to myself. Deep down I always knew, no doubt about
that, and I'm happy beyond belief that it's finally out in
the open, but...well...you're not the only man I've had
feelings for...still have feelings for..."
Mulder felt Skinner's body stiffen slightly. Then, after a
long moment, the big man simply said, "Krycek."
Closing his eyes in defeat, worrying that the truth and
honesty in this case were too much after all, Mulder nodded.
"Yes. Krycek."
There was a long moment of silence before Skinner muttered,
"Ditto."
The shock on Mulder's face didn't even come to close to the
one on Krycek's face. "What?" they both screeched as one,
Mulder in surprise and Krycek in utter disbelief.
"Yes, I know, took me by surprise as well. I've always been
attracted to him, since the very beginning, but the same
rules applied there as well. Male subordinate and all that.
Then, once we realized he was working for the Smoking Man..."
"I wasn't, you idiot, I was working for the good guys all
along," Krycek grumbled sulkily.
"He wasn't, Walter, he was working for us all along," Mulder
chimed in helpfully, causing Krycek to raise surprised
eyebrows. "I looked at all the files I received from this
'anonymous source' and I now know it was Alex all along."
Alex? Krycek's eyebrows rose even higher.
"Yeah, I thought so," Skinner agreed, shocking Krycek all
over again. His face grew wistful. "There isn't a day I'm not
beating myself up over shooting him. If there was only one
thing I could change in my entire life, it would be this
second. I still don't know why I did it."
Mulder nodded, face solemn. "I know what you mean. I still
mourn for him, too." They looked at each other, then Mulder's
mouth quirked slightly. "Spooky Mulder at his best again," he
commented. "My perfect world would revolve around you and
Alex, preferably in a big house with a huge garden, a front
porch and white picket fences."
Skinner sighed and squeezed the man in his arms. They both
looked into the distance, obviously seeing the same thing.
"Yeah," the big man said softly. "Sounds perfect to me."
The Coordinator waited a full minute, in which neither man on
the couch said anything or moved, merely fantasized about a
future that wasn't meant to be. Then he turned to the man
next to him, giving him a soft look of compassion.
Krycek didn't even realize there were tears running down his
face.
"So, do you still want to leave, Alex?" the old man asked
gently. "Or do you want to stay?"
Krycek turned tortured eyes on him. "But how can I possibly
stay here and watch the men I love live a happy life? It
would kill me all over again. Every minute of every day. I-I
c-can't, I'm s-sorry."
The Coordinator nodded solemnly, then looked at the ceiling,
as if in discussion with someone high above. With one final
nod and a small smile, he turned back to his charge.
"Remember the second chance I mentioned to you, Alex?" At
Krycek's confused look, the smile grew wider. The old man
leaned in close, and gave him a wink. "Enjoy it," he
instructed, snapped his fingers—and was gone.
Krycek stared at the vacant spot next to him, completely
confused and feeling utterly helpless and alone. He jumped a
foot in the air when a deep, completely bewildered voice
asked, "Alex?" He couldn't believe the hope he heard in that
one word. He couldn't believe that Skinner was actually
seeing him!
Slowly turning around and looking at the two men on the
couch, he poked himself in the chest. "D-do you...can you see
me?" he asked hesitantly.
All three stared at each other for a long moment, then Mulder
shot up and ran across the room. "Alex! It's really you!" he
exclaimed. "My god, how did you...where have you...why didn't
you..." He shook himself, trying to clear his head. "Who the
fuck cares what happened as long as you're here, with us!"
Mulder grabbed his head with both hands and proceeded to kiss
the younger man senseless.
By the time they came up for air, Skinner stood next to them.
"Alex," he said softly, tears in his eyes. "You're back. I
don't know how or why, I don't care. But you're here. And you
belong here, to us. That is, if you want to."
Not believing his ears, Krycek could only nod silently.
Skinner broke out in a beaming smile and wrapped the younger
man into a bear hug. "I'm so sorry for what I did, Alex," he
whispered fiercely into the thick sable hair.
"'s okay, Walter. Just don't do it again," Krycek muttered
into the muscled chest, feeling the big man chuckle
helplessly. From behind, Mulder's arms wrapped around him,
sandwiching him between the two men he loved.
Second chance, indeed.
Happy Valentine's Day, Alex, he heard the Coordinator's
smiling voice in his head, and he nodded to himself. Soaking
up the love and affection that was bestowed upon him, Krycek
jerked in embarrassed surprise when Mulder's amused voice
whispered in his ear, "By the way, sexy boy...nice threads!"
his being dead thing really sucked, Krycek decided.
