Personally, Skinner suspected that Scully owed her restoration to the
lily white confines of Mulder's good graces more to Mulder's raging
guilt for everything she had suffered due to his ill-planned quest for
the Truth than any act of redemption she had possibly performed
because, frankly, Mulder was never satisfied. No one was ever 'good'
enough for him. Unless you were Scully. Or Samantha. And who wanted to
be shoved onto a pillar alongside those untouchable 'angels' in
Mulder's pantheon? Saint Scully, indeed!

Skinner had to scramble like mad just to maintain a desperate hold on
the middle ground in Mulder's conflict with the Consortium. It had
left him feeling soiled and unworthy. Neither Scully nor Mulder
trusted him wholly, and he didn't begrudge them their suspicions. But,
like Krycek had said, you couldn't fight the Consortium without
getting a little mud on you.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Skinner commented casually.

"What?" 

"His inability to forgive you. I mean, you'd have to be blind not to
notice how irrational Mulder gets around you, but it's just as obvious
how much you love him."

Alex sputtered, trying to force a denial past his lips, but it
wouldn't come. Skinner, in the meantime, just looked at him steadily
with his AD attitude, till Alex closed his eyes and sighed. "Like it
matters.... The funniest part is, I don't think I've loved anybody in
my entire life like I've loved Mulder.... And he absolutely hates my
guts. I mean, *absolutely.*"

Skinner frowned. "And all because you killed his father."

"Yeah?" Alex said, as if to ask what Skinner's point was.

"You said Spender was so upset about your relationship with Mulder he
'promoted you' to assassin. Who's the first person he had you kill?"

"...Bill Mulder.... Son of a bitch! He *knew* Mulder would never
forgive me! He ordered me to do it, knowing that it would ruin any
hope I had of ever reconciling with Mulder --and I bought his whole
bullshit 'National Security' line! Fuck!

"I am *such* an ass! And here I kept throwing information Mulder's
way, hoping that my small acts of absolution would eventually
out-weigh my sins against him, so I'd earn my happy ending, when I was
screwed from the get-go. I should have known there was no happy ending
for me. Mulder's Mr. Black and White, and I'm Mr. Gray, and there
isn't enough water in Lourdes to wash me clean enough to inhabit his
world. I let Old Smoky set me up, blew any chance I ever had with
Mulder, and I've been too stupid to see it. Worse, I *still* don't
want to let him go.... How pathetic is that?"

Skinner shook his head, not that Alex could tell, since his eyes were
still closed. "I don't think it's pathetic at all. Like Woody Allen
said: 'The heart wants what the heart wants.' Sometimes the heart is
stupid and the brain can't reign it in. That makes for tragedy, not
pathos."

"Yeah.... Tragedy...*yawn* and stupidity. I just wanted that picket
fence so bad.... Huh! Like Mulder was even the sort that would ever
settle down! Talk about delusional! Hmm....Least you're in the mud
with me...c'n count on you...so damned tired of fighting these shits
alone..." He gave a little snore, then, as his fatigue took advantage
of his stubbornly closed eyes to drag him down into sleep.

Skinner was heartened by Krycek's acknowledgment that he could be
counted on precisely because he was down in the trenches with him. He
hoped it meant he had a chance with the triple agent. He was
especially curious to see if Krycek could actually wean himself from
his fascination with Mulder now that he understood how hopeless the
situation was. Krycek had not struck him as the practical sort when he
was at the Hoover, but he had been young, back then. A lot of Life had
happened to Alex Krycek in the intervening years. He certainly
*seemed* more pragmatic.

In fact, working with Krycek had been a revelation. Alex had surprised
him with the hidden depths of his character, his willingness to be
known, his spirit of cooperation, his toughness, his sense of humor,
his insight, and his daring. His resolve to give up on Mulder after
all his shameless flirting and overtures for forgiveness, and physical
abuse bespoke of a strong sense of self-preservation, and considerable
self-esteem.

Skinner liked a man with a well-balanced sense of self-preservation.
The kind of man who could set aside that most basic of instincts for
the greater good. A man like himself, who plodded the ground of
discovery step by painful step instead of making seven league insights
in one stride. A man who understood sacrifice, who still loved life. A
man who he sensed had come to understand his need for something --or
someone-- else in his life. A man who had professed admiration for him
out of the blue. A man who had turned to him subconsciously, giving an
identity to that once nameless 'somebody' he petitioned for aid.

He just had to figure out how to make Krycek take the leap from
subconscious affinity, to conscious affection.

###

Scully showed up precisely on time, a worried scowl on her face. She
tried to mask it, but Skinner noted the conflict in her face, so he
decided to make her spill the beans.

"What's wrong, Scully?" he asked familiarly.

She chewed her bottom lip, looked at Krycek, who was still sleeping,
then paced to the far end of the room and whispered at Skinner, who
had obligingly followed. "It's Mulder, sir. He really did want to get
back to D.C. ASAP, he was only upset that it would reflect negatively
in his performance jacket." She looked around Skinner's solid bulk to
check on Krycek again. Satisfied that he was still sleeping, she
continued. "He thinks Krycek is an X-file."

Skinner choked down a laugh. "Why?"

"Because of something he remembered from a past case. He thinks he
remembers meeting someone who looked like Krycek on a case before he
met Krycek at the Bureau. You know Mulder. He never forgets anything.
It's just that sometimes he mis-places the pertinent connections. He
thinks the man's name was Michael, too, so he thinks it was either
Krycek in a previous identity, or Krycek's estranged brother, Mikey.
He's pretty sure I was with him, so that only gives him a two year
window to search."

"Meaning he'll find the file, if he's right --and he's usually right--
sooner than later," Skinner concluded. Scully nodded. Skinner sighed.
"If I send you back to D.C. will you keep me informed on his progress
into this matter?"

Scully looked at Krycek again. Reviewing an old case wasn't against
regulations, so Mulder couldn't get into trouble with Kersh for
delving into his own file cabinet, but she doubted Kersh would OK the
302 for a personal visit, and she knew for a fact Mulder wouldn't take
Kersh's denial for an answer. "If you'll OK the 302s," she bargained.

Skinner readily agreed. If Mulder was going to visit Krycek's brother,
he wanted make sure he was there to over-see the meeting. "Deal. I'll
cut you loose as soon as Inspector Lloyd and Agent Wong can coordinate
the protection for Krycek."

Scully nodded her assent. "Well, you've had an overly long day, sir. I
won't keep you any longer."

Skinner glanced over at Alex. He hated to leave, but he did need
*some* down time to recharge his own batteries. He wouldn't be a very
good bodyguard if he fell asleep on the job. He went over to the
visitor's chair to grab his suit coat.

Krycek began to moan. "No...light. Light! He took the light. Can't
move!" he wiggled in his restraints ferociously, then keened
helplessly. "Trapped! Doomed! Skinner! Skinner! Oh, please! Save me! I
don't wanna die!"

Walter stepped over to the bed and laid his arm over Alex's shoulder.
"Shh! It's OK, Alex. I'm here. You're OK. You're safe. Wake up, now.
It's just a dream. Wake up!"

Krycek's eyes snapped open. They were wide, rolling, panicky. He
wriggled like a maggot in hot ashes. "Can't move!"

"Shh, shh. Calm down, Alex. It's OK. Nobody's going to hurt you. The
doctor put you in restraints so you wouldn't aggravate your injuries,
remember?"

Alex sagged into his mattress. "Yeah. Right." He breathed evenly. "'M
OK."

Skinner nodded. "Look, Scully is here. I'm going to leave, now. Are
you going to be OK?"

"Sure."

"OK. See you later." Skinner backed away from the bed, grabbed his
coat again, caught Scully's eye and jerked his head towards the door.
She nodded understanding and followed him outside. "He's been like
that every time he wakes up," Skinner confided to Scully. "Is that
normal?"

Scully nodded. "He's reliving the trauma. It wouldn't be unusual if he
wasn't bound, but with the restraints in place...well, it just
reinforces his feelings of helplessness."

"Can you talk to Dr. Russell and see about getting him out of the
restraints, then? Frankly, I think they're doing more harm than good,
whatever the doctor's intentions."

"I'll see what I can do, sir," Scully promised.

A man with a cart load of food trays came around the corner, stopping
beside them. He checked the cards on the plastic salvers and found the
one that matched 'Tucci's' room. He lifted up the tray of food and
started inside.

Skinner felt inspired. "Oh, hey, is that for Mr. Tucci? He's unable to
feed himself, you know. If it's all right with you, I'll feed him for
you?" Skinner volunteered, ignoring Scully's wide eyed surprise.

The man was only too happy to get out of the extra work. He handed
Skinner the tray and wheeled the cart to the next room down.

Skinner went back inside, Scully following, and set the tray onto the
over-the-bed-table. He pushed it up to where he could spoon the food
into Krycek's mouth, then bent over to grin at Krycek. "Hey, Alex,
dinner's here. I told the orderly I'd help out and feed you. Let's see
what we've got." He lifted the salver. "Hmm. Red Jell-O, cranberry
juice, coffee, and beef broth. You take sugar in your coffee, right?"

Krycek sighed as his face reddened. "Yeah."

"Don't be embarrassed, Alex. I'm only here to help."

"Yeah. OK."

###

Walter sent Scully back to D.C. as soon as enough locals were found to
cover Alex 24/7, but took a week's vacation himself,  spending the
days guarding Krycek at the hospital, and allowing Lloyd's men to
spell him nights. He always showed up an hour ahead of time and left
an hour after the new shift started, so he could help feed Alex at
least two of his meals, and amuse him by reading or doing word puzzles
with him. Things a regular visitor would do that a truly vigilant 
guard never could.

Skinner considered it courting time. Personal time. And, after an
initial reluctance, Alex seemed to look forward to their interactions.

After seven days, Krycek improved enough to be moved to a nearby
convalescent hospital, and Walter returned to D.C., as planned,
leaving Krycek's security in the hands of the locals. Their good-byes
were stilted and brief. Krycek wouldn't look him in the eye, and
grunted his farewells, while Skinner kept stressing that he was
leaving Alex in good hands, while trying to hide his anxiety about
getting back, since Scully had informed him that Mulder had found the
case in question, and had been making discreet inquires about the 
current location of the former victim/witness.

###

CHAPTER NINE

#
"Every day I beat my own previous record for number of consecutive
days I've stayed alive." --George Carlin
#
Hoover Building, Washington, D.C.
Monday, April 4th
#

Walter managed to arrange to see Michael Gleason on the weekend he
returned to D.C., so it wouldn't cut into his time at the office.
Scully graciously bowed out so the budget committee wouldn't question
why three agents, including one Assistant Director, felt it necessary
to personally re-interview a witness in a closed case.

The shock of seeing 'Alex Krycek' whole and entire, down to the mole
on his cheek, added to Michael's own comments on why he was estranged
from his older brother, fueled Mulder's conviction that there was more
to Krycek's origins than even Krycek suspected, and he happily
returned to D.C. to begin delving into what Consortium files he had
access to, to unravel the mystery.

After back-to-back adventures in the field, Walter had some difficulty
settling back into the routine of his days at Headquarters. He found
himself thinking of Krycek and his brothers at semi-regular intervals
and stray moments, both in an esoteric and metaphysical way, and a
more sexual fantasy mode, usually triggered by the sight of a pair of
moss green eyes or of someone's back as they sauntered down the street
in a leather jacket.

In fact, the image of the jacket seemed to loom in his mind's eye like
some magical talisman thats possession would allow him to manifest the
man at will, not unlike summoning a genie from a lamp, or a Selkie's
skin that gave him power over its owner. The idea of Alex stripped of
his 'tough guy' 'skin' was so compelling, it prompted Walter to go to
a local leathermart and roam the aisles of leather goods, searching
for the definitive 'Alex' look.

Eventually, he found it. The perfect jacket. Black, sleek, lined,
buttery soft, with extra wide sleeves to accommodate his prosthetic,
inside and outside visible and hidden pockets, snap and zip closures,
and D-ring cinch straps that adjusted the cuffs and waist for a custom
fit.

Then he hesitated, overcome with doubts and a sense of the ridiculous.
No mere piece of apparel would summon Alex to his side, nor insure a
relationship with the triple agent. He left the store, only to return
repeatedly over the course of the following week, to rub the jacket's
buttery skin with his fingers and inhale the distinctive odor of
tanned cowhide.

Finally, he talked himself into purchasing the jacket, but, instead of
putting it away with the rest of Krycek's possessions in his keeping,
he kept it on his bed where he could sniff the scent of tanned hide in
his sleep. His memory supplied the missing 'Alex' scent, and he
dreamed Alex into his bed, playful and loving, and devoted only to
him.

The morning of April 4th, he sat at his desk and surveyed the results
of four weeks of intense effort to catch up on his paper work with
intense self-satisfaction. The stack of files on his desk had finally
attained a normal, manageable height. He reached for the top file.

Kim's buzz interrupted him. There was a Dr. Russell on line one,
calling long distance from San Francisco, did he want to take the
call?

Skinner snatched up the receiver. Dr. Russell proceeded to up-date him
on 'Mr. Tucci's' condition, which had deteriorated upon his move to
the convalescent home. Seems a decision had been reached only that
morning to return 'Mr. Tucci' to the hospital and schedule him for
surgery the next day in order to remove a portion of one lobe of his
liver, this the ultimate result of the beatings he had suffered. They
had hoped the area would heal, instead the tissue was disintegrating
and contaminating the abdominal cavity, endangering Krycek's life not
only with organ failure, but a secondary infection.

Dr. Russell realized it was short notice but, as Mr. Tucci's
self-appointed emergency contactee, he was obligated to inform Mr.
Skinner of the impending procedure, in case he or any of 'Mr. Tucci's'
relatives wanted to be there. The over-all prognosis was good, Mr.
Tucci was young and healthy, despite his injuries, and there would be
no ultimate harm done, as the liver was capable of regrowing its 
excised portions once its condition was stabilized. 

Skinner told Dr. Russell he did indeed wish to be there, that he would
fly out ASAP.

As soon as he hung up, he buzzed Kim and instructed her to buy a
ticket for the next flight to Frisco. Then he called his DAD and
Personnel, informing them that he was taking emergency family leave,
effective immediately.

He stared at his almost pristine desk and sighed, knowing that all his
hard earned progress on the files would come to nought the minute he
stepped out of the office, but he had to be there for Alex. He stood,
steeled his resolve, and left the building without further ado.

The news of Skinner's abrupt departure from work spread through the
Hoover as if on wings.

Skinner got to his condo just in time to pick up a phone call from
Mulder, who inquired politely if his sudden trip to Frisco had
anything to do with Krycek. Skinner allowed as how it did, and Mulder
reluctantly passed on the Lone Gunmen's phone number, urging Skinner
to call them for a threat assessment before he left D.C.

Skinner, once again struck by the tortured ambivalence of Mulder's
feelings for Krycek, did so, and was informed that a rumored hit on
the Rat had been tracked down to 'persons unknown' with Consortium
ties who was supposedly flying in --possibly from Poland-- to 'deal
with the traitor.'

According to Frohike, this person had been putting off the trip in
hopes that Krycek would succumb to his wounds --or possibly because
they had been unable to connect Krycek with his Tucci alias. Since
death no longer seemed a likely outcome --or they had finally
connected the fake name to the very real injuries-- they had belatedly
set their machinery of death into motion. And, considering the Polish
connection, it was no doubt someone with personal reasons to avenge
Kapustcha.

Walter stifled his amusement over the irony of the assassin's timing,
(and the Gunman's convoluted narrative), but he called Inspector
Graham and Agent Wong, alerting them to the confirmation of a threat
to their ward, its probable point of origin, and his own impending
arrival.

Then he made sure his weapon was loaded and ready and his bags were
packed for an extended stay, before putting together an emergency
travel kit for The Rat, utilizing Alex's own carry-all, including all
the remaining weaponry that had been residing in Skinner's weapons
locker all this time, plus the plam, but not the garrote, since that
item would have been too hard to explain to the authorities who had
confiscated it with all the other goods on the stolen boat. He did, at
least, have Alex's six locker keys, as well as his dop kit with the
Mayor McCheese doll tucked in it, which Skinner had brought home with
him the last trip out, to ensure it wasn't lost or misplaced in the
moves from hospital to convalescent home and, now, back to hospital.
The final item he packed --in his own suitcase-- was the leather
jacket.

Skinner arrived in San Francisco in time to indulge in a late lunch
with Wong and Graham, who had taken off work to meet him. Afterwards,
they all went over to the hospital to visit Krycek, who was
immediately concerned about Skinner's unexpected appearance on the eve
of his scheduled operation especially considering his two companions.

Walter allayed Krycek's immediate suspicions by telling Alex that he
had listed himself as Alex's emergency contact when he'd filled out
the insurance forms upon his original admittance, so Dr. Russell had
been obligated to contact him, and since Tucci's bills were still
being paid by the F.B.I., as it pertained to injuries sustained on an
official F.B.I. mission while under the Bureau's protection, Skinner 
felt an official presence was in order. And, since he was the one who 
had to fill out all the forms okaying the expenditure, he felt that a 
personal visit was the least perk he could finagle out of the Bureau 
on his own behalf, and that one of those perks had been a revisit to 
the Chi Din Yu, with his two more than eager companions.