by Lady Midath
Think warm thoughts, I had told him as I had turned and left him to
freeze out
there, the side of his face pressed against the railing. I had gone
to bed that
night satisfied that he was getting his just desserts. What goes
around, comes
around. My mother, god rest her had always been fond of saying that.
And if any
one had deserve it, that son of a bitch had.
Think warm thoughts, and had they been warm? I know mine had been red
hot that
night. The same night that Mulder had brought him to my apartment,
looking for a
safe house for him. A safe house, that had been a laugh. How safe
could Krycek
have been with me? After everything he had done. The betrayals, the
very fact
that he had taken me in so completely with that sweet green agent act
of his. If
only I had been able to see past the cheap suits and gelled hair. Too
late now,
I muse as I watch the clouds scud across a soon to be winter sky.
God how sick with rage had I been, looking into those incredible
green eyes
again. It had been so long since I had seen him, so long since I had
heard his
voice. I had no idea that seeing him again would have affected me
this way.
I glance down at my hands and I am surprised to see them shaking.
Even the
memory of that night is enough to make me tremble.
Suddenly my mouth is dry and I am badly in need of a drink. J&B
whiskey, my
drink of choice for all those long lonely nights after losing Sharon.
Sharon. My mind slowly drifted away again, following those grim night
thoughts
that always besets one at three o'clock on a dark cold morning.
It was my fault that I had lost Sharon. I can admit that now. At
first I had
blamed her, her lack of understanding, her impatience with me, with
my work.
With our life together. The fact that she seemed to want to pry into
every
corner of my life, wanting to know everything. Now I know that it was
me that
had been in the wrong. It had been me that had locked her out, made
her feel
more like a roommate than a wife and partner. And in doing so, had
lost her.
Poor Sharon, I wished her well, wherever she was now.
Suddenly my thoughts turn back to Krycek. His green eyes, hair as
black as the
night, as black as the battered old jacket that he always wore. I can
feel my
cock begin to harden just at the thought. Jesus, it's like Pavlov's
dogs. Ring a
bell and I began to saliva just like them. But it's not a bell that
wrings a
response from me. It's those slim hips and fuck you Jack attitude.
The way he'd
swagger into a room as if he owned it, all eyes automatically turning
to him.
The knack he had of staring straight at you...into you, as if your
very soul was
on display for him and him alone.
Strangers in the night... I hear the old song carried on the cool
early morning
breeze. So there's someone else that can't sleep either. Nice to know
I'm not
the only one, though I doubt it's over some gorgeous assassin.
Probably someone
just home from the nightshift, listening to some old music to wind
down and
relax before hitting the sack for a good eight to ten before having
to face
another shift again.
Strangers in the night, how appropriate. After all, isn't that what
we were,
Krycek and me? Strangers in the night. No, not strangers, we knew
each other far
to well to ever be strangers. Besides, that description was far too
hokey for
someone like Krycek.
No, there was nothing that I could think of that I could even
remotely compare
with Alex Krycek. Nothing at all, how's that for a lack of
imagination?
Once again, my mind turns back to that night. The night that Mulder
had brought
Krycek to my apartment.
I can feel the light sheen of sweat that slicks my face now. The
breeze tickles
against my skin, drying it.
The song has changed now, it's something very old that I don't
recognize, I like
it though. I stand on the balcony listening, letting my mind wander.
Better than
dwelling on that night.
That night...
Krycek had not been his usual smart ass self. Too scared I imagine.
He had
stared at me, eyes wide with fear, and something else. I had gazed at
him, my
face grim. I owned that little rat bastard and owed him big, and
what's more, he
knew it.
He had not been expecting that first punch, it had caught him
completely by
surprise. I had to admit, I had been gratified by the reaction. With
a surprise
grunt, Krycek had hit the ground. I had wasted no time. Grabbing him
roughly by
the collar, I had hauled him back up, growling a very effective
threat in his
ear while doing so.
Mulder had said nothing, he had merely watched while I dragged Krycek
out to the
balcony and cuffed him to the railing. If he had any objections to my
treatment
of the rat bastard, he had kept them to himself.
Had it been my fault that Krycek had gone with Mulder on that ill
fated trip?
Had it been my fault that they had been captured and imprisoned in
that hellish
gulag. Mulder had managed to escape whole. Lord I swear that man has
more lives
than a fucking cat. But I was pleased. I would have hated to see
Mulder maimed
at the hands of frightened ignorant peasants.
But Krycek had not been so lucky.
The memory of seeing him after he had returned from Russia. His face
thinned and
hardened from weeks, probably months of pain. The way he held
himself, trying to
get used to the uneven weight of the prosthetic limb.
I had felt sick. How could anyone have mutilated something as
beautiful as Alex
Krycek?
I remember how he had shown up here, his eyes mutely accusing me. I
had said
nothing to him. What could I say? That I was sorry for his loss? That
was a
laugh, as much as I hated Krycek, to see what they had done to him...
I wanted
vengeance. Vengeance for what they had done.
The force of my reaction had shocked even me. After all, I hated
Krycek. How
could I feel so strongly about his arm being hacked off? But
nonetheless, I did.
Of course there was no way that I could find those bastards now. They
were more
than likely dead anyway. Still, there had to be something that I
could do.
Anything.
Mulder could not understand why I had taken Krycek in. At first, he
thought I
had thrown my lot in with Spender and the rest of those Consortium
bastards.
Hell, he had even threatened to shoot me. He had waved his gun in my
face, his
own features contorted with rage. It had taken me quite a while to
calm him
down, convince him that I hadn't, and even longer to talk him into
helping me.
Finally he agreed to help, I suspected that his own guilt had
something to do
with it. Oh, he had been reluctant at first, obviously still waiting
for the
other shoe to drop. To discover that he had been right all along and
that I was
in cahoots with Spender.
But gradually Mulder had come to realize that I was not, that all I
wanted to do
was try and help Krycek, to ease some of my own guilt. Not the
noblest of
reasons, but what the hell, at least this time I was being honest
with myself.
Months and months of painstaking research had finally led to the
information
that I had sought for so long.
There were seven healers still left on Earth, all of them scattered
over the
different continents. All I had to do was find one of them. He would
be able to
restore Krycek's arm and perhaps ease my sense of guilt.
Maybe...
I leave the balcony now and head back towards my bed, to the figure
curled in an
S shape under the heavy quilt. He's sound asleep, the gentle snores
filling the
quiet room.
Seven healers left, I have to be able to find at least one of them
surely.
Suddenly an old nursery rhyme pops into my head, The Seventh Magpie,
and I
smile.
Seven for a secret, never to be told.
Is that what I'm looking for, the seventh magpie, the healer that
will help me?
Help Krycek? Carefully, so as not to wake him, I slide under the
quilt. It's no
good though, one green eye lazily opens.
"Hmm, tha' you Walter?"
"Shhh Alex, go back to sleep." I whisper.
He cuddles in closer, his face nuzzling sleepily against mine. "Mmm,
you're
cold, where you been?"
"I went to get a drink." I reply. "Now go back to sleep."
Obediently Krycek closes his eyes and is soon fully asleep again. I
wrap my arms
around him, relaxing in his warmth.
Krycek does not know of Mulder's and my hunt for an alien healer. I
have not
told him for fear of disappointing him. Mulder had suggested once
that I do tell
him, after all Krycek was once privy to all the Consortium's secrets.
I had once
broached the subject with him but Krycek had shook his head. He was
no longer in
the loop. He had been out of it for too long. He had not even known
that there
were healers still left on the planet.
So Mulder and I continue to search, and I know one day we will find
one, and
Krycek will have his arm back. After all, I owe him that much...
Don't I?
One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl
Four for a boy
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret
Never to be told
Skinner
t's late, but I can't sleep. I sit out on my balcony, the same one
where not so
long ago, a certain rodent had been handcuffed.
