Part One/4: The Road to Ruin NC-17 A restless eye across a weary room One slip, and down the hole we fall Notes: I had the idea for a scene like this long before I ever came up with a plot to go with it, much less the saga you're reading now. Yes, I have seen "Goldeneye" many times. Just imagine Kate in Onatopp's black dress and you'll get the picture. Kate leaned over the balcony, gazing through the darkness at the Mediterranean. A slight breeze made her wrap her black gauze shawl closer around her shoulders. Fall approached too soon and the evenings were getting colder even on the Rivera. Ignoring the itch of new satin, she reached in her handbag for a cigarette. As the smoke wafted away in the breeze, she closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. She retreated to the stone balustrade when the pressure of so many minds pushed her to the limit. Kate took small puffs off the cigarette and coughed lightly. Not a regular smoker, her craving hit only under extreme stress. Alex came to Monaco to meet with a contact. He talked Kate into earning them a little cash in the meantime. She earned it all right, and felt every bit of it. She spent a good hour losing at roulette just to make the pit boss happy, but overall she acquired a tidy profit. He didn't tell her the details of his meeting and she didn't ask. She stopped asking questions long ago, paying the price of survival. Once Alex Krycek escaped North Dakota he never looked back. This time Kate accompanied him. At first she tried living on her own, working as a bartender while Alex traveled the world, selling secrets. It felt like a lifetime ago instead of less than a year. Life without Alex drove Kate to distraction. She suffered from a rare talent, the ability to hear the thoughts of others whether she wanted to or not. But most people had to be in the general vicinity for her to pick up on anything. She didn't know how it happened, but somehow her mind got tangled up with his and wouldn't let go. If she didn't overhear Alex's thoughts during the day, she dreamed his life at night. No matter where he was. Where she once upheld the law as a detective, now she lived underground, working around the law. She took to her new career much better than she expected, much better than she liked to admit. Krycek alone could walk through walls but the two of them together made a ruthless, unstoppable team. Kate's ability to read thoughts gave her an edge. Working with Alex for nearly a year taught her everything else she needed to survive. When they met she helped him find someone who spoke Navajo to decode the precious government files he stole from his former employer. She still helped him, let him know when a deal was about to go bad, gave him insights into the people he dealt with. In exchange he taught her what he knew of covert operations. She developed skills she'd never imagined having, much less using, in her old life. She learned forgery, lockpicking, the ability to hide in plain sight. Kate stabbed the cigarette out and absentmindedly reached down to scratch the seam of her black silk stockings. Originally from Oklahoma, she felt more at home in jeans and boots than velvet and lace. A year or two ago she would never have imagined herself in Monaco at all. *Yet here I am,* she thought, *right in the middle of the James Bond scene. Shaken, not stirred?* She smiled to herself. Suddenly a slow blush crept up her cheeks. Kate steeled herself not to turn around. With shaking hands she lit another cigarette, this time taking deep drags instead of tiny puffs. She waited a few more minutes, then went back inside to cash out. *** Kate slid the plastic key into the lock and turned the brass doorknob. She shut the thick wooden door behind her with an exhausted sigh. Dropping her shawl and handbag on the table nearest the door, she made her way through the darkness. She stepped out of her heels and barely started on the first stocking when she heard a voice: undertone, barely audible, no more than a whisper against her ear. "Stop." Heart thudding in her chest, she straightened. Her gun remained in her handbag, a few immeasurable paces behind her on the table. "But they itch," she protested. The man behind her began a lecture: "How many times do I have to tell you, Kate, that's my job?" She spun around. "Alex, why are you playing games? Like this place doesn't have me on a hair trigger already," she complained. Alex Krycek grinned. She saw his tuxedo jacket tossed over a chair, his tie undone, his perfectly coifed hair rumpled. "You're supposed to be enjoying yourself. Having fun. You know, fun?" "Cheating at cards is not my idea of fun." "Well then you need to get a new idea." His grin turned serious, the hand on her back pulling her closer until she had to tilt her head to look him in the eye. With the other hand he reached down the back of her thigh, searching for the garter she hadn't quite undone yet. She wasn't about to give in that easily. "You think you can teach me?" There it was: he unhooked the clasp. He answered her with a kiss, slow, lingering, drawing her out. She yielded willingly, her lips finding his in the darkness. She wrapped both arms around his neck and went up on tiptoe to meet him. Without warning he picked her up, garters and all, and headed for the bedroom. Setting her carefully , he moved in above her. For a moment he simply watched her smooth out the crushed velvet of her dress and wiggle her toes. "I hate those heels," she said. "I know you do," he smirked. "And I hate the stockings too," she added. "We'll just have to change your mind about that," he replied. His hand slipped up the seam of her stocking, finding the other garter still in need of his attention. She leaned back and sighed to his attentions, his fingertips sending tiny lightningbolts of energy up her spine. "What were you doing here in the dark?" she asked suddenly. His hand might be busy with her stockings, but his eyes locked on hers. "Waiting for you." "In the dark," she repeated. "What do you want me to say? I was beating off?" She giggled. "If you were, please don't tell me." He finally got one stocking undone. As he reached up to caress her thigh, carefully pulling the silk off her leg, she decided to let him have his secrets. He earned them. Soon the offensive garments puddled on the floor like melted chocolate. Alex massaged her toes. "Poor toes," he sympathized. "I hope they feel better now." He glanced up to gauge her reaction. Kate looked wistful. "What about you? Do you feel better now?" she said with a secret smile. "Better all the time," he answered in a husky voice. "Good. Can I undo the rest of my 'do now?" she asked politely. He shook his head. "Let me." Carefully Alex pulled the bobby pins out of Kate's hair until it fell like black moonlight on her shoulders. He then set to work on her earrings with his teeth. Her voice trembling, she asked, "Why all the pampering? Tell me what I did so I can do it again, okay?" He abandoned her ears and leaned back to look at her face. His only answer was that same slow smile. What that smile did to her: turned her inside out, made her bare knees tremble, made every nerve tingle with expectation. When his lips found her neck, she gripped his shirt with her nails, pulling, pulling. Kate already knew the answer to her question, she only wanted to see what he would say. Through the course of her clandestine operations she lost track of him directly. But when he finished his business he went looking for her and saw her outside on the balcony. His sudden, unexpected response hit him like a slap in the face. He'd never seen her wear that dress before--all shimmering black velvet and cleavage. Like her every curve screamed for his attention. Every bit of him screamed right back. It's a good thing he had what he came for because he forced himself to turn right around and go back inside. She shuddered, remembering with vivid clarity his barely controlled desire. He wanted to take her into the shadows and make violent love to her right then and there. *Not that I would have minded, really,* she thought mindlessly as he gently removed the velvet from her shoulders and nibbled her collarbone. Alex waited until her lingerie, along with the rest of their clothes, met with her stockings on the floor. Nothing remained between them now but anticipation. "Do you know what you do to me?" he said in a strangled whisper, looking up at her, poised above him, waiting, watching him. She laid a hand over his heart, feeling it flutter like a butterfly's wings, too fast to sense. "I wanted you from the moment I saw you there, out on the balcony," he confessed. "I was that close. Me. Do you know what that means?" he asked, not expecting an answer. Kate answered without words. She arched her back and took him inside, feeling every inch, his strangled gasp erupting from the bottom of his lungs. He ran his hands over her bare skin, finding every spot he might have somehow missed before, searching, searching, for...what? Kate lost herself in every sensation: Alex moving with her, in her, listening to the tiny sounds he tried not to make. She'd never seen him like this before, struggling so hard for control and losing. He found her center with his thumb and rubbed it, once, twice, sending her up and over. She threw back her head, scraped his chest with her fingernails, and let out a long, low groan. The sensation of her coming so hard above him, around him, caused the last of Alex's control to shred like silk and flutter away in the wind. *** Alex ran his hands through her hair and down her back. Kate didn't want to move and besides, he wouldn't let go. She rested her chin on her interlaced fingers and watched his face as he thought. *He thinks too much,* she decided. His eyes found hers, then wandered away on their own again, somewhere she didn't know. After a time, Alex spoke. She knew he made his contact, but didn't know the details. As much as she could, she tried not to intrude on his thoughts. "We have to go to St. Petersburg," he informed her. She raised an eyebrow, her only indication of piqued curiosity. "Arntzen?" she asked when he refused to say more. "He might have a job for us." Kate considered the information. Alex first met Arntzen when they served together in the Gulf War. Officially the man worked for the Russian government. Unofficially he took orders from shadowy men much like the ones in the Syndicate. Alex worked for Arntzen a time or two in the past, but Kate had never met the man. Both of them preferred it that way. Kate avoided such meetings, reluctant to let anyone know of her existence as Alex's partner. Alex saw it as an advantage, and he never let an advantage go to waste. They despised the Russian, but due both to Alex's skill and Kate's knowledge, they managed to stay on top of assignments. Most people considered Alex Krycek one step down from a cockroach but he had his own moral code. In the heart of a spy lived a passion for justice, undiminished by the men who thought to use him for their own ends. Kate knew that betrayal kept the fires of revenge burning in his heart. He would never forgive them for twisting his respect for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness into something ugly, evil. Kate looked forward to leaving the casinos, the suspicious pit bosses, and the itchy underwear behind. But if it made Alex happy, she'd put up with the rest. From all appearances it made him very happy indeed. She smiled to herself, content with life, snatching rare moments like these to keep her going. With the darkness all around and the darkness to come she would need it. They would all need it. *** Part Two: The Mission They'll say my mission saved the world "He expects the impossible," Alex ranted. Kate watched him pace a proverbial hole in the floor of their room in St. Petersburg. "Then don't do it. You've refused him before, you can do it again." "I can't do that this time." She let to him argue with himself, back and forth, just to get it out of his system. "He's right. The Americans are smuggling out the rock somehow, they must be doing their own research. I have to do something," he reasoned. Kate knew of Tunguska only from Alex's memory. The Russians used the oil in the Tunguska rock to develop a vaccine against the "black cancer", as they called it. Arntzen's superiors learned that the Americans not only knew of Tunguska, but had a smuggling operation set up to get the black oil out of the country. Now Arntzen wanted Alex to find the man behind it and stop him. The suffering inflicted at the gulag made Kate sick regardless of the reason. If Alex accepted that, she didn't know how the American operation could be any worse. Deep inside she knew the answer: it all came back to the Smoking Man. It always came back to him. Alex never referred to him by any other name. She wondered if the man had a name. Come to think of it, Alex never referred to the man if at all possible. The Smoking Man picked Alex out of a host of others in the Department of Defense to do his dirty work. Why Alex Krycek? Kate suspected his relative naivete and willingness to obey orders had something to do with it. As soon as Alex realized the truth, he turned his back on everything he'd ever known to go rogue, to do what he swore he'd never do: disobey a superior. Not only did the Smoking Man try to kill Alex with a car bomb, the man left him trapped in a missile silo to die. He was lucky. She doubted he would have ever seen daylight again if she hadn't known where to find him. Suddenly Alex stopped pacing, his eyes focused somewhere in the distance. He had an idea. *** North Dakota, USA. Somewhere Kate never imagined she'd see again, not while Alex Krycek lived. But he was a man on a mission, a man with a purpose. She dimly remembered Mayhew, a man Alex briefly met on their flight out of the country. Now he worked with Timothy Mayhew, the leader of a militia sworn to bring down the legally appointed government. Alex hated every last one of them, saw them as an insult everything he held dear. He held no remorse in using them to get what he needed. The militiamen accepted his plans, and his money, all too readily. *Are all people this eager to believe what they want to hear?* Kate shook her head. The night Kate met Alex, she called him systematic. The plan he set in motion blew her first impression all to hell. If he pulled this off without a hitch, he deserved a medal. *From who? Arntzen? Not likely. More like the devil's uncle.* Krycek could lie, confuse, deceive like no one else. He told her once, "The most believable lies are based on truth. Tell the truth as much as you can, but shade it to make people think what you want them to think." In a theoretical way she understood how he did it. Watching him manipulate people so adeptly was another thing altogether. The men saw him as a war hero from the Gulf, a patriot like themselves, the visionary of a better America. He told them about the black oil--the oil of all things!--told them it was a biological weapon, Hussien's tool. Kate knew better. The oil made Saddam look like a child playing with plastic army men. She kept her mouth shut. The others ignored her, recognized her value only as Arntzen's wife. As a mockery Krycek took his employer's name as a pseudonym. As usual Kate worked in the background, but this time Alex hardly needed it. Raw energy flowed out of him, suffused him, as if he existed as the tool of some higher power. Revenge come alive. Before too long the decisions were made, the plans set in stone. All they had to do was wait. *** Kate sat in the shadows of a bar in Washington, D.C. and sipped her drink. She watched people go by, overheard a passing thought or two. Normal thoughts of normal people, concerned with ordinary things. She sighed wistfully. She left her normal life behind the minute Alex Krycek walked in her door. *Walked in my door, hah,* she thought with an ironic twist to her lips. *I invited him over for drinks and a little assassination.* She remembered that night perfectly. She met him in a bar much like this one, exhausted after a long day of chasing criminals. He was serving drinks and talking up the lost soul in the corner. The one he'd been sent to kill. She picked the thought out of his mind and later confronted him. She still didn't know why he changed his mind so quickly and let her live. He told her to stay hidden and she agreed. She didn't want to be anywhere near rifle range when the FBI caught up with Mayhew. And Alex. She checked her watch: barely 4 p.m. Night fell early so close to December, even as far south as D.C. She didn't have to wait long. She knew the minute the deal went down. Her background awareness of Alex flared up, obscuring her vision and making her head pound. She headed for the bathroom, feeling a wave of nausea from the intensity of his emotion. Finding a spot of peace and quiet, she put her head in her hands and closed her eyes. She saw it all happen through Alex's eyes: the ambush, bullets flying in the dark. The driver panicked, might have escaped, but Krycek pulled his gun and fired from point blank range. Kate's head jerked sideways as if the bullet shattered her own temple. Krycek flipped the safety back on and tossed the gun out the window. He heard Mulder's voice instruct him to come out with his hands up. Kate winced as Mulder punched her partner in the stomach with the butt of his gun. Krycek fell to the ground. "I handed you this bust, Mulder," she heard him say, gasping from very real pain. "Oh come on Krycek," Mulder bit out angrily. "Who do you think sent you those receipts?" Krycek asked, baring his teeth. Rage flowed out of him in waves, causing Kate's head to throb in sympathy. *Nobody treats me this way. Especially not Mulder.* Kate became aware of another voice, this time coming from her own location. She lifted her head to see a young woman kneeling beside her. "Are you okay?" she asked. Weakly Kate tried to smile. "Just a migraine," she lied. "Oh I'm sorry, can I do anything? You look terrible," the woman offered. "Actually I think the worst is over," Kate said. *** Notes: Kate finally meets Mulder in this scene. I have to give some credit to Spielberg & Co for her insights into his character. As I was writing I kept thinking of a scene in "Raiders of the Lost Ark". Remember Indy's conversation with Belloq in the bar in Cairo? I couldn't get it out of my head. Belloq is the villain of the movie, remember? He's another archaeologist out to find the Ark, but he's working for Hitler. He swipes the gold idol from Jones at the beginning of the movie. After the part with the big rock. Here's the dialogue from that scene, copyright blah blah blah, it's not mine, you know the drill... BELLOQ: How odd that it should end this way for us after so many stimulating encounters. I almost regret it. Where shall I find another adversary so close to my own level? JONES: Try the local sewer. BELLOQ: (laughs) You and I are very much alike. Archaeology is our religion, yet we are both fallen from the purer faith. Our methods are not different as much as you pretend. I am a shadowy reflection of you. It would take only a nudge to make you like me. To push you out of the light. If that's not Mulder and Krycek, I don't know what is. Even the sewer comment. Oh wait, Indiana Jones wasn't kicking the crap out of Belloq. So it's not a perfect comparison. Sorry for interrupting the story. Kate watched them from across the terminal at Dulles. She didn't know exactly how Krycek convinced Mulder to bring him here. She didn't even realize he knew so much about the American couriers. Alex scanned the crowd, caught her eye, looked away quickly. That one look spoke volumes: what the hell are you doing here? What I always do, she wanted to tell him. Follow you around like your shadow. He worried for her safety, he didn't want to get her involved in this mess. Putting himself in danger was one thing. His gut still ached from Mulder's ministrations. He'd have one hell of a bruise come morning. *Why Mulder?* she wondered uselessly. Poor Mulder, so eager to believe the lie, eating it up like Alex promised he would. Krycek lacked the skills to uncover the secrets of the Syndicate, so he let Mulder do the work for him. Kate knew Fox Mulder only from Alex's perceptions. Now she stood close enough to hear his thoughts, share his emotion. The sheer power of his presence nearly overwhelmed her senses. Only Alex had ever affected her mind this way. The two men shared the same burning spirit but each had his own crusade. Mulder sought the truth with a passion that bordered on obsession. He'd go to the ends of the earth for a grain of it, and that tiny bit would keep him going long past the point of reason. Like Alex on a revenge kick. What would it take to make Mulder like Alex? What if he told the Smoking Man to go to hell, gave up on the X-Files, and struck out on his own? She knew he never would. But why not? His partner, Scully? Possible, but that was the easy answer. The cop out. Maybe that's what he told himself on so many sleepless nights. She felt Mulder's irritation flare when he found the rock in the diplomatic pouch. She rolled her eyes. *He thinks it's a red herring. What a simp.* As his annoyance turned to rage, Kate felt confused. Why did Mulder hate Krycek so much? He wanted to beat Krycek bloody senseless in the middle of the crowded airport. It must go deeper than the "he killed my father" tirade Mulder pulled out every chance he got. Tired and frustrated, Mulder sent Scully home and considered what to do with his prisoner. Kate followed them from the airport to another man's apartment, someone she didn't know. She caught a name: Skinner. Mulder's superior at the FBI. Apparently Skinner had no love for Krycek either. Once again Alex found himself bent over in pain, wondering how the other man knew to punch him in the same spot Mulder hit earlier. Skinner tossed Alex out onto the balcony then chained him to the railing. Krycek mock-fumed, like all his best lies, with a heart of truth. He was angry. Beyond angry. At Mulder. After a while she felt his rage fade, dim, to be replaced with the glow of satisfaction. The plan unfolded before his eyes just as he predicted. Waiting in the shadows behind the building, Kate's heart constricted. *The fucking plan again,* she swore inwardly. What about Mayhew and his men? She never felt comfortable with it, any of it. Not even from the beginning. Sure, Alex brought some potential mass murderers to justice. But he did it in his own self-interest, not for the patriotism that once motivated him so strongly. He manipulated those men, even killed one with his own hands, to get to Mulder. And from Mulder to the Smoking Man. *There's a fine line between justice and retribution,* Kate thought, disgusted with her partner. *He crossed it a long time ago.* Kate faced some hard realities that dark night in the alley behind Skinner's building. She'd grown complacent over time. She followed Alex's lead but her heart wasn't in it. She never saw any other way because she never looked. Never wanted to look. Now she looked, and she didn't like what she saw, in Alex, in herself. At first the agony of life without Alex bound her to him. Now she felt that bond chafe like the cuffs on Alex's wrist. It wasn't a new sensation, she just never noticed it before. It built up slowly, over months. She knew she was in love with Alex Krycek. She'd known it before she joined his crusade. But right now she found it very difficult to even like him. This goddamned revenge, it made him a madman. All she wanted was the old Alex back. *Is that too much to ask?* She kicked a rock and shoved her hands deeper in her pockets. She watched Mulder leave and reached out with her mind. Alex remained on the balcony, still fuming but heartened. Check. She touched Skinner's thoughts and something resonated. Every day he had to live with the kind of choices she faced now. She actually found herself in the hallway outside Skinner's door before she realized where she was. *What am I gonna do, knock politely at one in the morning and ask to shake his hand?* She made her way back to the elevator, staring at her toes. She wanted very much to meet Skinner. She had a feeling she could pour out her tormented soul and he would understand every word. If he didn't hate her guts right off because Krycek fucked her. Fucked her. That's exactly how it felt. Had the master manipulator been manipulating her all along? With a pang of remorse she remembered his fear for her safety at the airport. If he was lying to her, he was lying to himself just as skillfully. Which was entirely possible. She waited a few hours until she knew Skinner slept soundly, then adroitly picked the lock and let herself in. Alex didn't see her until she knelt down beside him in the shadows. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed. She reached out for his free hand. "Are you okay?" "Get out," he growled, softly but with feeling. "Make me," she mocked him and his cuffed wrist. His eyes narrowed. His rage would have frightened anyone else, but she met his look with compassion. She felt the fear motivating it. He knew through long experience arguing with her would only prove pointless. Instead he looked away with a sigh only she could hear. "No, I'm not okay," he admitted. "But you are where you need to be," she said, echoing his unspoken thoughts. "Look, you set up this crazy plan. I'm only tagging along. I wanted to let you know I'm watching out for you." He raised his head to look her in the eye. Quietly he said, "I wish you wouldn't." "I know. But you have to let me make my own decisions. I got tired of the obedient wife trip." She shrugged, and against his will, he smiled. "No, you'll never be any good at that, woman," he teased. "Nope," she announced proudly, or as proudly as she could in a whisper. For a few minutes she simply sat there, holding his hand. She wondered when she'd get another chance. "I have to go," she told him. She leaned forward to kiss him and felt his free hand reach around to grip her head, pulling her closer. The contact drew her deep into his conflicting emotions: wanting to push her farther away but at the same time needing her by his side. He kissed her deeply, passionately, cherishing each moment. She moaned into his mouth, the combination of the kiss and the emotion leaving her helpless. *I can't live without you, Alex Krycek,* she admitted to herself. *Even if it kills me.* She had to break the contact or she might take advantage of his helpless state and do something that would undoubtedly draw Skinner's attention. Or at the very least the neighbor's. She pulled away, her face inches from his, losing herself in his bottomless green eyes. She could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek, in her own mouth, open and panting. "I have to go," she repeated, trying to convince herself as much as him. He released her and she left without looking back. *** Silent as a cat, Kate crept through the shadows of New York City. She found her target, straightened up, glanced around. She waited patiently for this opportunity all day. Finally Mulder left Alex alone while he did some research. "Hey, Alex, it's me," she whispered, her face appearing in the half-open window of Mulder's company car. His head whipped around like the turrets of a B-52 bomber. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he demanded. "Nice to see you too," she replied, annoyed. "I trail you all the way to New York and that's the kind of welcome I get." Alex glanced around the empty street, looked over his shoulder at the building Mulder vanished into not long before. "If I was in a less compromising situation I might give you a better welcome," he said, his eyes glittering in the dark. "But he could be back any minute." "Relax," she assured him. "His hostess plans on keeping him there for a while." "Hostess?" Alex asked, confused. "Yeah, he made Scully track down some chick he thinks can help him, she's got a funny name...Covarrubias, I think that's it." "Marita." "You know her?" "Used to. Back in the day." She sensed his reluctance to speak of the time he worked for the Smoking Man, so she didn't push it. "Anyway, I'm keeping an ear open so we've got a minute. Let's ditch the simp, Alex, I have what we need to know." His eyes lit up. "What? How? Tell me." "Skinner had a visitor this morning when he walked out of his building." She shuddered, reluctant to remember the slimy sensation of that man's mind. At last she got a good look at the enigmatic Smoking Man. She didn't want to repeat the experience any time soon. "I figured someone must have been watching. Skinner really should invest in a better security system." With a joke he brushed off the whole frightening encounter. The courier he'd fingered at Dulles broke into Skinner's apartment, most likely looking for the rock. Instead he earned a quick trip to the coroner's, courtesy of Krycek and 17 floors of freefall. "Yeah. Well." Kate didn't want to talk about the second murder Alex committed within 24 hours. "I got a nice close-up of your old friend Smokey," she said, catching the quick flare of hate in his eyes. "What did you find out?" Straight to business, as always. Alex never let emotion distract him from his purpose. Instead, he used it to make him more effective. Efficient, even. Kate broke off that train of thought before it went any farther. "He knew about the courier, I'm sure he knew about you, and now I know what he knows. He has an...ordered mind," she finished, looking away. "And?" he asked eagerly, ignoring her distress. "He's behind it?" Kate nodded. "The smuggling, the work on the vaccine. The courier was his." Alex leaned his head back, putting the pieces together. "Makes sense." She continued on for a while, filling in the details of the operation. She told Alex about Dr. Charne-Sayre, the doctor supervising the research. Where her patients were, how to find the doctor herself. Kate's conscience didn't bother her one bit about that. She wanted to kill the good doctor herself once she knew what the woman regularly perpetrated on innocents. She looked towards Marita's apartment. Narrowed her eyes. "Mulder took the rock to some expert at Goddard," she continued. "He cut it open." Alex snorted. "I bet he got a nice surprise." Kate twirled a strand of hair around her finger, over and over. "Scully's busy trying to figure out what's wrong with him. We can nab the rock and get rid of it, just like you planned." She tried not to think of yet another innocent infected with the black oil, what would undoubtedly happen to him now. "Thank you, Kate," he said, catching her off-guard. "No, I mean it, you made my life a lot simpler. Even though you should have stayed out of it," he finished with a stern look. "So can we bail now? I've got the car waiting." Slowly Alex shook his head. "What? What more can you get from Mulder?" "Tell me what's going on in there," he directed. Kate complied, closing her eyes to concentrate. "Covarrubias is going to send him to Krasnoyarsk," she breathed, stunned. "He's going to find Tunguska." "Most likely." "And you're going with him." Kate studied him closely, trying to see behind those impossibly dark eyes. She touched his surface thoughts, myriad, too fast to catch. Like Kasparov in the middle of a tough match, Alex worked out several possibilities all at once. "I need you to tell Arntzen everything you told me," he instructed her. Shocked, she simply stared. "A-Arntzen? Me?" He gave her a winning smile. "Just send him a telex, pretend you're me. If anyone can pull it off, you can." She opened her mouth, shut it again. He continued. "Arntzen has other contacts. Now that he has the information, he can find someone to finish the job." "I'm coming with you," she announced. "I knew you would say that." "You're not mad?" He looked sheepish. "I know better than to try and stop you." That made her laugh out loud. "You've got a deal. I guess I'll be seeing you on the other side." *** Part Three: Akuma to Tenshi no Kiss NC-17 (When Angel and Devil Kiss) Dare ni mo tomerarenai no yo Notes: Not that I am an anime freak or anything but..."Bubblegum Crisis" is my favorite Japanese animation series. I've used titles from BGC in my stories before, like "Born to Kill" and "Moonlight Rambler" from chapter one, What Evil Lurks. I apologize in advance if I butchered any of the Russian phrases Kate uses in this section. I had to look some words up in a dictionary and my Cyrillic leaves a lot to be desired. But it looks cool, doesn't it? Kate did as instructed, even found an outbound flight as soon as she knew for sure Mulder was headed that way. *Why do I even doubt Alex,* she wondered. Now she left Krasnoyarsk behind, headed for Tunguska. The place she knew she had to be. Where it would all come together. She wondered exactly what Alex had planned for Mulder. On the outside it looked as if he simply wanted Mulder to see for himself, to take the truth back to the US and fight the Smoking Man. But she had her private suspicions. She couldn't forget the heat of the rage boiling out of him. She shook her head. *He's not himself right now,* she reminded herself. *I can't predict what he's going to do next.* The guards eyed her warily when she arrived at the gulag. "Take me to the Doctor," she instructed them with as much authority as she could muster. "I come with word from Comrade Krycek," she snapped when they hesitated. Her knowledge of the man who ran the gulag, along with Krycek's name, convinced them to obey. Kate walked the halls of the living quarters with a guard on either side, one leading the way. Annoyed, she listened to their resentful thoughts of her. Kate knew her Russian was less than perfect and her American accent gave her away as an outsider. Her insights prepared her for the moment they stopped in the middle of a deserted hallway. The men's harsh laughter told her everything she needed to know. She didn't need supernatural abilities to guess what they wanted from her. Panic made her mind a powerful weapon: she needed only a moment to read their thoughts, to see exactly where and when they meant to strike. As the one in the middle lunged, the other two went to pin her arms. Quick as a snake she avoided the leader. The same motion brought her knee into the groin of the one on her left, leaving him screaming and helpless on the floor. Undismayed by the fate of his comrade, the one on her right went for force. Kate whipped her head back as his fist smashed into the place her face occupied not a moment before. She grabbed his wrist, using his momentum against him and pulling him off balance. Quick as a cat she scissored his forearm between her knee and elbow. The bones snapped with a gratifying crunch. She spun around to find the leader paralyzed, eyes wide and staring. "*Ved'ma*," he whispered. Witch. She bared her teeth, tossed her hair out of her face. "*Nyet. Toya'ko tsto smerteya'ny.*" Only lethal. He turned and ran. She examined the wrecks on the floor, one beyond screaming, the other bleeding all over the expensive carpet. Kate looked up to find a man she recognized as the Doctor staring at her hatefully. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Do you instruct all your men to attack unarmed women who come with word from Comrade Krycek?" she countered. Shock registered on his face. "Come with me," he instructed her, ignoring the cries of the wounded men. He led her down another hallway to his office and instructed her to take a seat. She sat on her hands so he wouldn't see them shaking. Quickly she informed the Doctor of Krycek's intentions. The man who ran the gulag frowned. She wondered if he had any other expression. "I will do as you ask," he assured her. *But only because of Krycek,* she heard his unspoken addition. "See to it," she snapped at him, aware of his unspoken curiosity of her identity, her relationship with Alex. The last thing she wanted was to tell this man anything more than she had to. She rose up and strode forcefully from the room. *** Her hands still shook when she reached the room the Doctor assigned her. With the door shut and locked behind her, she ran for the bathroom and ungracefully lost the contents of her stomach. *Next time you curse your gift, Kate,* she told herself, *remember this.* Without her skill she would have ended up beyond screaming on that very same carpet. She stood under the scalding water of the shower, trying to wash the memory away. Dog-tired, soon she fell into a sleep wracked by nightmares. She struck out blindly when strong hands shook her awake. "What? What's wrong?" It was Alex, finally. "Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me," Kate said without apology. "I guess so! You nearly took my head off." Kate rubbed her face with her hands, shaking away the last vestiges of nightmare. "I uh, had some trouble getting in to see the Doctor," she explained. Alex looked at her sideways. "I think you better start from the beginning," he said. She briefly related the incident with the guards, then practically had to tie him down to keep him from charging out and castrating all three of them with his bare hands. "Will you relax?" she said vehemently. "Hey, I'm here, aren't I? I'm still in one piece, unlike some others I could name." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Are you still in the same clothes? You stink, Alex." "I haven't had much of a chance to do anything about it," he protested. "I would have been here sooner and in better condition if it weren't for those stupid grunts." He stretched his arms over his head, his spine cracking loudly. "Did I make you mad or something? Did you tell them to be extra rough?" "No, if you pissed me off I would do it myself." That brought out a laugh. "I bet you would. You really broke his arm?" She smiled triumphantly. "Clean through." "*Ochen khorosho,*" he congratulated her. Very good. "Please, no more Russian," she pleaded. "So where is your esteemed companion?" "You mean Mulder? He's in a cell downstairs." His tone stayed flat, but that never fooled Kate. "You're not going to leave him there!" she protested. Alex turned dead serious. "You punish the people who fuck with you. He beat the everliving shit out of me for three days. He deserves it." The simmering rage boiled up in him once more. Kate saw the last bit of humanity fade from his eyes as his irrational hate surfaced. Kate felt like he just stuck a knife in her gut and twisted. Hard. "You're going to leave him there," she repeated. "Let them do the test on him. Until he drops dead." "He didn't have to come here." Christ, it hurt. "You manipulated him. You strung him along. You didn't bring him here to find the truth, you brought him here to get tortured and killed so you could watch! I can't believe I fell for it!" As she spoke she strode forward until he had to back up a pace. Now she shoved him, hard, and he fell sideways, caught himself with one arm. "You know what the worst part is? You used me to do it. Fuck you, Alex. Fuck you and your fucking vengeance." Slowly he stood up and faced her. Toe to toe, nose to nose, staring her down from six feet of solid muscle. "Then leave," he said quietly, dangerously. "If you can't stand the sight of me, then get the hell out." Kate began to do just that but he grabbed her arm and swung her around. For a moment he simply caught her in his gaze, caught her and judged her. She glared right back, so distracted by her own inner turmoil she never saw it coming. He swooped down like a hawk and grabbed her, hard. His tongue was in her mouth, his hands on her ass, lifting her off her feet. She couldn't struggle even if she wanted to. Instead she grabbed him right back, her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his narrow hips. "I hate you," she gasped out, but then had to struggle to breathe. She moaned aloud as his teeth ravaged her neck. Somehow she found herself thrown across a desk, her head colliding with the wall. She never even registered it. All she felt was Alex, his scorching hands on her flesh, ripping her shirt off her body. She leaned back, grinding her hips into his raging hard-on. He ravaged every part of her he could reach with his teeth, his tongue, leaving stains of red on her skin as if marking his territory. He stopped momentarily to rid himself of his own shirt, his skin glowing softly in the dim light of the room. Kate just watched him, her mind somewhere beyond thought. Primal. A place where nothing else mattered but their screaming need for each other. His teeth locked on her nipple, her nails leaving jagged red streaks across his back, he took the opportunity to divest her of her jeans. She pulled at his zipper, struggling to get closer, to get as close as possible and crawl inside. "Alex," she moaned, a long, drawn out, almost painful sound. "Christ," she whispered. He didn't hear any of it, lost in his own sensation. What she did to him, what she drove him to, time and time again. Naked at last, with nothing holding them back, he took her sharply, roughly. She made a sound somewhere between a choke and a scream and he felt her crash and come together around him. He couldn't get enough of her: of her skin, of her scent, of the sweet cries echoing through his head. He pounded in harder, faster, and moments later she reached ecstasy once more. He lost himself in her body as her screams turned to satisfied whimpers. Dimly he heard a voice coming from his own ravaged throat, whispering her name. Telling her he loved her, how he'd always loved her. How he couldn't live without her. Absently Kate studied the bits of skin under her fingernails. "You're bleeding," she announced. His eyes lifted, locked with hers. He didn't understand the words much less what she was trying to tell him. Against all logic she found herself tightening around him again, her abused body somehow calling out for more. *Well and truly fucked,* she thought incoherently. In every sense of the word. Never before had he said the words. Told her he loved her, was in love with her. She thought it didn't matter, she knew how he felt whether he voiced it or not. She was wrong. That night Alex held Kate as he slept, the fatigue of three wakeful nights catching up with him at last. Kate listened to the slow, steady sound of each breath he took. He kept an arm around her, possessive even in his sleep. She opened herself to the emotions around her. She felt the agony and suffering of the prisoners in the gulag. Heard the laughter of the other men as they drank and told stories to while away the long Siberian night. She turned the events of the last few days over and over in her head, examining each facet closely. He slept on, oblivious. *** Part Four: Point of No Return Hear the cry for the new life the mourning's flame On a winter's day I saw the lifeblood drained away Notes: Okay, there's something that's been bothering me for a long time. I try very hard to stay true to CC's canon, but this episode makes it very difficult. Think about it: Mulder and Krycek go to Tunguska. In Siberia. In December. And there's not a snowflake to be seen? How hard is it to find snow in British Columbia, anyway? I'll forgive him creative license, or maybe he filmed it in August, or he was just too cheap to find a snow machine. But if I'm the one telling the story, there has to be snow in Siberia. So I sacrificed continuity for a little reality. I think it's a fair trade. Do any of you remember my little handgun tirade at the end of "Far Away, So Close"? In the meantime I've been doing my research on firearms (just for the story, really!) and I had a lot of fun with it. It's interesting. Although the AK-74 (that's right, 74, not 47) 5.45mm automatic is standard Russian infantry issue, I decided to give Kate a Dragunov 7.62mm sniper rifle. You can even get telescopic and night sights for it, it's a nifty weapon. I have all the specs for Mulder's Sig too, in case anyone cares. :) Kate knew the moment Mulder's fist connected with Krycek's face. Even after he lost consciousness, she still felt him dimly in the back of her mind. Her senses reeled as the gulag erupted: the prisoners hopeful, the Doctor outraged, the guards frantic. Quickly she found what she needed and went for the barn at a dead run. She whispered sweet nothings to the leggy mare as she saddled her. Kate saw it in her mind: Alex waking up in the back of the truck, leaping for the road and freedom. Alex knew he didn't want to go wherever Mulder planned to take him. She left the back way, leading another horse behind her. In the confusion of Mulder's escape, she doubted the guards would notice two missing horses or even the Dragunov rifle slung over her back. Kate prayed to her grandfather, asked for guidance and strength. The guards returned to the gulag, then left rapidly with the Doctor in the lead. She took the time to circle around the camp completely so no one would see her tracks. In the silence of the forest she closed her eyes and reached out for Mulder. He hid a few miles away, buried under leaves and a snowdrift. For a moment she registered surprise--she didn't think a city boy like him would know how to survive the subzero temperatures of a Russian winter. Suddenly she felt a sharp pang: fear. Not her own, coming from Alex. "Jesus," she whispered. She turned her horse, kicking him hard. The quiet of the deserted forest made the thoughts of his companions echo in her head. As her horse steadily jogged she felt Alex's panic subside, then fade altogether. "Idiot," she said aloud. Her gelding snorted. "You said it," she told the horse, reaching down to pat his shaggy neck. "I want to be back in my warm barn eating oats too. How did we end up in this mess?" *** Alex woke abruptly, confused. His confusion turned to terror when the men seized him, held him down. His world came to a standstill when he saw the knife, felt the unbearable pain of severed muscle and tendon. Suddenly he heard a noise, barely audible over his own frantic screams. The others must have heard it too. Immediately they released him and backed away. He sat up. The man, boy really, with the knife lay in the snow next to Alex. The boy stared at his own red blood spilling from the bullet wound in his shoulder, staining the snow. The knife lay where it fell from his lone hand. He glanced around, looking into the darkness through a haze of pain. Alex saw his savior, his angel, come with terrible vengeance to smite the unjust. Time seemed to slow, almost stop, as if he could step outside himself and watch it pass, frame by frame. Right hand clamped on the gaping wound of his arm, he clumsily stood up. Kate strode over the snow towards him. She held the rifle in her hands, covering the other men, but her eyes stayed on Alex. The boy thrashed in the snow, clutching his wounded shoulder, crying out in pain. Krycek didn't spare a moment of regret. He took his bloodied hand from the wound, grasped the knife in slippery fingers. Cut the boy's throat in one smooth motion. He looked up at Alex with rapidly dimming eyes, the hot spray of blood steaming up from his slit neck. The others turned and fled, leaving him and Kate alone in the cold, dark night. Kate felt something irrevocably crack and slide away inside her as the boy died at her feet, helpless to stop the life spilling out of him in a river of red. Alex dropped the knife and clapped his hand back on his bleeding arm. "You...you came just in time," he stuttered out. An unfathomable look in her dark eyes, Kate shook her head. "Not soon enough." She shouldered the rifle and reached for her pistol, tossed it across the gaping chasm between them. It landed with a muffled thump in the snow at Krycek's feet. "The road's back that way," she gestured with her head. "Only a few hundred yards. You can make the camp within an hour. And I'd have the Doctor look at that arm." "What?" Alex shook his head to clear it; he wasn't hearing her right. "I thought you came to rescue me," he said awkwardly. Kate's eyes turned impossibly darker. "I thought I could." Her eyes returned to the boy's rapidly cooling body. Without another word she returned to her horse, swinging up and over in one smooth motion. She untied his companion and jogged off in to the darkness. Continued in Part IV |