Closer

Pushing a man in a wheelchair down the stairs wasn't his most classy murder, but it certainly was the most satisfying one. Krycek had tried very hard not to cheer as he stepped over the body, succeeding only because Marita was nearby. He had a facade to keep up when Marita was around. An "I hate your guts but I'm gonna be really cool about it" facade to be exact.

I killed him. He's dead. It's over. I'm free. These thoughts raced around in his head as he and Marita stood in the foyer waiting for the elevator to arrive. Finally Marita spoke.

"Thank you." It came out as all of Marita's sentences do, with a little extra unnecessary breathiness as though she were trying to seduce him with every word. She went so far as to add a little extra syllable in front of the "th" sound in "thank." "A-thank you." It made it sound as if she had been holding her breath before she spoke.

He looked at her sideways. "What?"

"You have no idea how disgusting he had become," she explained slowly. "I had to keep him company the whole time you were in Oregon, and I almost threw up whenever he smoked out of that... thing."

"Tracheotomy tube," he supplied with a little nod.

"Yes, that. If you hadn't killed him, I would have."

He nodded again, trying to keep from looking at her. Krycek willed the elevator to arrive so he could get out of there.

It did.

They both got into the elevater. Krycek pushed Marita against the wall.

"I want to f--k you like an animal," Krycek breathed out. "I didn't know if I could restrain myself for as long as I did. You were the one thing that kept me alive in that prison."

Marita just looked helpless. "Take me now, Alex. Have your wicked way with me and make hot monkey love to me now."

And he did.