Footprints

Part One

Do vampires leave footprints?

Krycek and I have been arguing this question for the last week and I'm about ready to bean the stubborn cuss. It's my considered opinion that they don't. They don't leave an image in a mirror; therefore, they can't leave footprints. I mean, I don't see how you can argue with that kind of sound reasoning. But, Krycek can and does, every chance he gets.

He's not arguing now, though. Neither am I. We're too busy fighting the vampires.

Actually, they're human/alien hybrids that have escaped one of the Consortium labs. Those labs have got to have the most godawful security. Creepy things are always escaping from them wrecking havoc on the local population.

Nobody wants to have them turn up on cable news or the front page of the local paper or worst of all being interviewed by Larry King. Plus, they're sort of dangerous since they have this tendency to kill people. So, guess who got picked to take care of the problem. You betcha. Krycek and Cowboy, Ghostbusters, Inc., that's us.

We tracked down a nest, pod or maybe it's a hive of them. They left footprints all in the dust on the floor of the old building they picked. I told Krycek it didn't count because they aren't technically your classic, real vampires. He said a bloodsucker was a bloodsucker and they counted. The guy could test a saint's patience.

They look a whole hell of a lot like Peter Lorre. If Peter Lorre was a hairless, albino spidery creature with anemic red eyes and a permanently open little round mouth filled with needle-like teeth and continuously flowing drool. Still, there's something about the face.

Anyway, we tracked these critters to an old Army base that's mostly used for Reserve training in the summer months. Most of the buildings had been built during W.W.II and there's row after row of wooden barracks with peeling white paint and weeds growing up between them. Most of the varmints have made their happy home in the old hospital, which had been built about the same time. It gives me the spooks.

There's not much in the way of equipment left around, just a musty abandoned building, but there is a real sense of times past and old ghosts about the place, like you could close your eyes and imagine the room bustling with doctors and nurses and wounded soldiers and there'd be a pinup on the wall of Betty Grable and 'Boogie, Woogie, Bugle Boy' playing on the radio. Somehow the place got stuck back in that time and the rest of the world moved on; like I said it's spooky.

I don't know why the Peter Lorre clones picked this place to make their nest, but I'm thankful you don't have to use a wooden stake through the heart on them. I ain't no Buffy, but Krycek could make a credible Spike. Our guns work just fine on them, thank god.

It gets dark early this time of year, especially on a cloudy day like today's been, and it's late enough we've got our flashlights out. This place hasn't seen electricity in a long time; so, we're walking down the main hallway on the second floor with the beam of my flashlight shooting around.

Krycek. One arm. One gun. No flashlight. We don't always carry night- vision goggles around with us.

Since he's only got the one arm, a roll of Duct tape comes in mighty handy. He keeps a super duper size roll in the trunk of the car at all times. Plus, it's useful when we need to restrain any hapless victims. You'd think world class assassins would have the latest gadgetry wouldn't you. Well, you'd be wrong. You can't do the job proper without a big old roll of silver Duct tape. I almost had him convinced to tape a flashlight onto the top of his left shoulder, but he nixed that idea. I think he was concerned about what it would do to that leather jacket of his.

I have a tendency to jerk the beam of my light about in quick flicks. It drives Krycek nuts.

It's one of my twitchy jerks, though, that catches the first of the little devils in the beam of my light. He's sort of stuck on the ceiling, hanging on with all four limbs and his face is nearly turned completely around so he can look down on us. His eyes remind me of a 'possum caught in the headlights of a car. Naturally, he's drooling.

Krycek sprays him with bullets. We might not have night-vision goggles, but we've got fully automatic GLOCKs. It chews him up pretty bad along with the ceiling and the wall and it makes a godawful racket in the confined space of the hallway. The thing falls off the ceiling with a heavy, wet, squishy plop like he doesn't have a bone in his body, which he might not have. I'm hardly an expert. I just kill them. I don't study them.

The fellow's family must have noticed because they start to come towards us from the far end of the hallway. My light's picking up dark shapes scurrying along the ceiling and the walls and the floor and they're coming way too fast for my comfort.

We start firing and because we've got limited ammo and there seems to be a massive number of them I switch to single shots to pick them off, but as soon as you kill one of them there's another to take his place.

Krycek's still putting out short bursts of fire. It's harder for him to switch over to single action and naturally we didn't bring the extended magazines with us. If there's many more of these bloodsuckers we're in a world of shit.

I get that vulnerable feeling between my shoulder blades and decide to stop firing for a second and check our rear.

Krycek starts cursing because he's firing into the dark now.

Sure enough, there's a couple on the floor behind us. Sneaky bastards.

I take care of them and when I turn around Krycek's run out of ammo and can't reload with one hand, takes too long. So, he's dropped his weapon and grabbed his reserve gun from his shoulder holster. I send a beam of light down the hallway and all I see are dark, unmoving figures, which is reassuring.

But, then I flick my light directly in front of Krycek and there's one of them inches from him. He stumbles back in surprise. I stumble back in surprise and then fall on my ass because Krycek has fallen against me. We both go down, flat on our backs.

The thing flings itself into the air like it's going to do a belly flop on us and Krycek jerks one of his long legs back, then thrusts forward and hits that sucker right in his bulbous little potbelly. Krycek pushes hard and jams the critter against the wall and holds him there with his foot. The thing's making these high-pitched screechy noises and its spidery arms and legs are flailing about and that little mouth full of teeth is trying to take a bite out of his leg, but Krycek just grinds his boot harder and pushes his gun into the creatures open mouth and pulls the trigger.

God, what a mess.

"Goddamn, Krycek! Next time I vote we just nuke the place."

He wipes a glob of bloodsucker goop off his cheek and grabs my light to make sure we don't have any more surprises.

While he's scanning the area, he says so quietly I can hardly hear him for the ringing in my ears from all the gunfire, "Maybe you could just tell them a few of your jokes. That should send them packing."

Ha ha.

The man's a real comedian. I wish to hell he would speak up, though. I don't know why he always has to talk in this husky whisper like we're constantly under surveillance.

What am I thinking?

I whisper back, "You think we got 'em all?"

He turns to face me and puts the light under his chin so it's casting his face in demonic shadows.

"I vant to drink your blooood."

He says this in the corniest Bela Lugosi accent and somehow it still sends chills down my spine because Krycek has that certain something about him that even though you know he's kidding you think, well, yeah, he's kidding but then he really is crazy like a fox and dangerous as a mustang with a burr under its blanket and you are alone with him in a creepy dark place full of dead monsters; so, you laugh and shiver at the same time.

I just shake my head and get the hell out of there. I'm beginning to wonder if I prefer Krycek in this new, improved mood he's been in lately to the earlier mood where he was constantly looking for a fight or struggling with road rage.

I think I prefer him this way. Ever since the fight with the biker dudes and he showed me the tattoo, it's like this dark cloud has lifted and his mood's been better. He's more relaxed or as relaxed as he ever gets.

It's probably the fact he's got someone else to share the secret with him, this love hate relationship he's got going with Skinner, and he doesn't have to carry it around by himself. Sometimes that feeling of loneliness can be a heavy burden. I know about that. And the only thing I've got to worry about is if he ever feels I've betrayed him.

I'll never do that. And it's not because I'm afraid of what he'd do to me if I did betray his trust. I just could never do something like that to my partner and he does kind of grow on you. Even though he does a really crappy Bela Lugosi.

We're going to let the Consortium 'cleaners' come in and do their job of getting rid of the evidence. Our work here is done. We've got to clean quite a bit of toxic bloodsucker innards off ourselves. Along with Duct tape another essential item for assassins and general badass guys is plenty of handi-wipes. The big tubs you get to wipe baby bottoms is best. It's amazing what they can clean up.

While we're wiping ourselves off, I'm watching Krycek and marveling once again at how patient he can be, how determined he has to be just to do ordinary things, let alone the dangerous things we're always getting into. The guy has got a lot of grit.

I tried it one day, just using one hand. I wanted to know something about the shit he had to manage every day for the rest of his life. I wanted to understand my partner better and I think I did a little. If it had been me I don't know that I'd be doing this. There's something driving him, maybe a lot of things or maybe it's just one assistant director.

I learned a long time ago there are two forces in this world that drive absolutely everything, love and hate, and Krycek has got both of them flip-flopping around in him most of the time till I don't think even he knows what he's feeling most of the time.

Right now he's as mellow as he's been in a long while. Maybe things are going to start changing for the better.

Yep, things were beginning to look up.

Until it all started to go to hell.

I knew something was wrong when we got back to the condo and Krycek listened to the message on the machine. It was a woman's voice and I didn't hear all of it because I'd gone into the kitchen, but what I did hear when I got back into the room was her pleading with him to come home.

Krycek had this really focused look on his face as he played the message over again. There was something familiar about her voice like I'd heard it before, but I swear I didn't recognize her. She was definitely wanting him to come home and lickety split. She wasn't giving out too many details, but she must've meant a whole lot to Krycek because he just glanced at me and made a bee line for his bedroom.

I mosey along behind and lean my shoulder against the door jam while he's hauling out his satchel and packing. I ask him if he needs company and he just pauses and looks at me with his eyes narrowed a bit then he nods and says it wouldn't hurt; so I guess I'm going on a trip.

While I'm packing I'm thinking about the fact we didn't get a chance to eat supper and my stomach's growling and I was sure looking forward to sipping on a little of that tequila out on the balcony tonight, making believe there were a bunch of pretty stars to see and Krycek could make moon eyes at Skinner's place and make-believe none of the bad shit between them had ever happened. Oh, well. Hopefully there won't be any vampires wherever the hell it is we're going.

Krycek's on the phone when I walk into the room. My guess is he's called the woman to tell her we're on our way. He's speaking in a mixture of Russian and English; so, it doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out this woman who wants him to come home must either be his mother or a close relative or friend of the family. This will be interesting. Like I say, Krycek's pretty close-mouthed about his personal affairs.

I take the opportunity to fix myself a cup of instant coffee. I've just zapped a cup of water in the microwave and put in a teaspoon of the coffee and barely had time to stir it when Krycek comes waltzing in. He must've smelled it because he cradles the phone between his head and shoulder and picks up my cup of coffee, takes a sip, grimaces, rummages around for the sugar; so, I just hand him the jar and he puts in two heaping spoonfuls of the stuff. Jesus, he's going to be wired tonight. I look over at the cupboard containing the tequila and I know there must be this droopy-eyed, hound dog look of yearning on my face, but I just zap myself another cup while Krycek wanders back out into the main room still talking.

I've got my hot cup cradled in my hands, blowing on it as I walk into the main room to find Krycek still on the phone, but this time his body language is completely different. He's pacing back and forth. His voice is notched down to another register and even huskier than usual. I'm getting that bad feeling. This isn't the person he was talking to before.

He's talking to Skinner. I know it sure as I'm standing here. Damn. What's he stirring up things with him for when we're due to leave any minute.

He finishes the conversation and just stares at me, his chin tilted up a little, daring me to say anything because he can tell by looking at my face I'm just about ready to preach him a sermon, but I just take a big sip of coffee instead and say, "I take it Skinner's still at work and we're making a stop to see him on the way out of town."

Well, that takes the wind out of him a little. He hates to admit when I'm right, though; so, he just grunts and mumbles, "Yeah, maybe. Are you coming?" He takes a look at my coffee, which I've still got in my hand. "If you're bringing that make sure you don't spill it in the car."

"Well, Krycek, if you're so worried about your car's interior, I can always transfer it into my Big Gulp I got at the E-Z Mart the other day. It won't be sloshing out of that since it's got a lid and all..."

"Jesus Christ, will you just haul ass out the door. We don't have all night."

"Well, I wouldn't know that now would I since you haven't had the decency to tell me exactly where the hell it is we're going. You know, you could..."

We carry on like this all the way down the hall to the elevators and into the car. Sometimes it feels like I'm married to the guy. If miracles do happen and he does manage to get together with Skinner then they deserve each other. That's all I can say.

When we get to Bureau headquarters we split up. Yes, that's right, we split up. We're not attached at the hip you know. Krycek is going straight to Skinner's office and I'm going the scenic route because you can see all sorts of interesting sights and find out many interesting things along the way. Especially if Krycek's not along to pick fights with the locals.

I get on the empty elevator and up we go, but it stops after only a couple of floors. The doors open and lo and behold there's one of them interesting sights walking right in to join me.

I reach my hand up to the brim of my hat and take the tip of it between my thumb and forefinger and dip my head just a bit, sort of like I'm going to take my hat off and bow at the waist. It's sort of your modern day equivalent of that.

I give her my slow and shy, aw shucks, Gary Cooper smile and say in my most neighborly drawl, "Howdy, ma'am."

Miss Scully is a mighty pretty woman. I've never seen her this up close before.

Her eyes scan me like one of those laser beams reading the bar code at the supermarket. My grandmother was always telling me that I had the kind of looks that made most women want to take me home and feed me. Miss Scully didn't seem to want to take me home just yet.

She wasn't giving me any downright hostile looks, either, just smiled politely, nodded and noted my security clearance.

She did open a file she was carrying to tidy some papers that were about to fall out and luckily for me one of them did fall to the floor. I immediately bent down to do my gentlemanly duty. It was only polite.

We were both squatted on the floor. Her eyes were level with the silver bolo at my throat. It's in the shape of a cowboy riding a bucking bronco and one of my favorites.

My eyes were, well they weren't at her throat.

We picked the paper up at the same time and she rose and I rose and we were still standing close. I could smell just a hint of perfume. Krycek doesn't wear any. Perfume that is. Mainly he smells like leather and in the summer time melted chocolate. Miss Scully smells a lot better.

She actually gives me a tiny little grin and I'm smiling back so big my face hurts.

I could imagine how she'd feel in my arms all soft and warm and yielding, her face turned up to mine.

By the time the elevator doors open we're married, bought a ranch in Montana and we're leaning against the rail fence watching the sunset while little Miss Scully junior rides her pretty little pinto around the corral.

She gets off and I get off with her. I have no idea what floor we're on; I just want to stick with her.

She strides briskly down the hallway with all the focus and intensity of a heat seeking, guided missile. Those short little legs tapping down the hallway to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I tell you it's enough to make a man weak in the knees. Now, if only she'd draw her gun I'd die a happy man.

I hang back a little to admire the view and almost run into Mulder when he steps out of a room right in front of me. Obviously, Krycek and I aren't the only ones without a private life around here.

He gives me a quicker once-over than Miss Scully, but you can tell it's like having your picture taken. He'll remember you. It may not even register now, but later if he needs to recall what you looked like; he's got you pegged.

Most people dismiss me because of the way I look. I can actually get away with a lot more than your average looking guy. Most people will remember the hat and the clothes and not my face, which comes in handy.

Mulder isn't most people. He'd remember my face. You get a sixth sense about that sort of thing in my line of work. You wouldn't want to leave someone like him as an eyewitness, that's for sure.

Now, don't get all riled up. I'm not about to go and kill Fox Mulder. Lord knows I've got enough trouble on my hands with Krycek as a partner. I don't need Miss Scully gunning for me.

Although, come to think of it, it might be the only way to get her attention.

While I'm ruminating over that thought, as I watch Mulder jog to catch up with the love of my life, I realize we're on Skinner's floor.

So, that's where we're all headed.

Skinner's door is open. He's behind his desk. His jacket is hanging on the coat stand in the corner with his overcoat, but Skinner doesn't need a nice suit to impress anyone. He's looking a bit stressed out, though. The reason for that's sitting on the leather couch opposite the desk looking innocent and relaxed. You'd think Krycek had just stopped by his dad's office to ask for the keys to the car for a hot date. He's got a Coke can in his hand.

Krycek found a vending machine on his way up here. It figures. I bet he's got a candy bar in his pocket. The lucky devil.

Miss Scully finds a seat against the far wall and I decide to hold the wall up on the other side. That way I have an unobstructed view of her.

Mulder hitches a hip onto the corner of Skinner's desk, which strikes me as a bit odd because Skinner doesn't seem to be the type of guy who normally tolerates having a subordinate perch on the corner of his desk. Seems to be a mite disrespectful to me, but then I guess I'm looking at Mulder through jealous eyes.

Mulder's giving Krycek this long perusal, like a guy trying to figure out why his cat is always pissing on his oriental carpet. He's obstructing my view of Skinner, but I don't care enough to move at this point.

I start to dig around in my pockets for something to eat because my stomach's trying to make friends with my backbone. All I can find is a piece of gum, which I begin to unwrap and pop into my mouth just when Scully and Mulder realize that this stranger has taken up residence in the room with them.

I just do the hat tip finger thing and murmur, "Howdy," around my mouth full of gum.

Skinner's growling at Krycek again. And he really does growl whenever he says anything to Krycek. So, everyone ignores me and focuses on them, which is just fine by me.

On the way over here Krycek finally got around to filling me in on where we're going and why. The woman who called was his mother and she lives in a little place close to the border of Virginia and North Carolina. I think the nearest big town is Winston-Salem. The name threw me for a minute, but then I realized it's not that Salem, which is good. After the business in the old Army hospital I don't need any more places with a history.

It seems his mother is having difficulties with a bunch of new people that have moved into town and the local sheriff doesn't seem to think there's a problem. Krycek didn't fill me in on the particulars of exactly what this group is doing, but it's obviously enough to make him high tail it down there. And obviously his mother thinks her little boy can do something about the problem.

I doubt very seriously if Krycek is going to give all the details to the people gathered in the room now, either. And I'm not exactly sure why he's involving them anyway. Unless he thinks he needs help.

Which is scary when you think about it. Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to volunteer for this little trip.

Skinner gets tired of sitting behind his desk, what with Mulder sitting higher than him and obstructing his view of Krycek, which seems to be his main focus. He's not even acknowledged I'm in the room yet.

He stands up and walks around the desk, hands on his hips and looms over Krycek, who still is acting like he doesn't give a shit where the man stands or how much he looms over him. He's still trying to get the keys to the car.

Skinner is looking just a bit skeptical and more than a little threatening. When those two are focusing on each other it's like the rest of the people in the room disappear.

Krycek's still trying to explain to them why they should be interested in this area where we're headed and actually even describes the bloodsucker critters that we just killed. He's apparently trying to build some connection to a Consortium lab in the area and if we move fast enough we can get ourselves a real human/alien hybrid to study. Which sounds as plausible as anything else I guess. He really must think he needs help on this and he doesn't want to involve the Consortium because of his mother and the people he needs help from really don't want to help him.

So, you lie to the good guys in order to get them to help you without them actually knowing they're helping you. I'm really not clear on what he expects them to do once he gets them down there. But, it's classic Krycekian logic.

Mulder wants to know how he gets all his information.

Krycek actually smirks at this. I'd like to slap him up the back of the head and tell him to be nice and respectful to the people he's trying to con. Sometimes Krycek's personal agenda gets in the way of his, well, his personal agenda.

"I keep my ear to the ground."

I almost smirk at this myself. I'm remembering that night with his biker friends.

But any happy thoughts are quickly wiped out of my head when Skinner growls, "Get used to it, Krycek. Where you're going you'll be on your hands and knees a lot, boy." No one says boy like Assistant Director Walter Skinner. You immediately get this mind picture of a chain gang in the deep south, Krycek's in those striped pajamas they used to make them wear and Skinner's sitting on a horse with the stock of his shotgun resting on one powerful thigh and they're making Krycek do stuff I don't want to think about, but obviously Skinner has been thinking about.

You can tell Krycek's startled at this. It's mainly the fact Skinner's said this really personal insult in front of a room full of people. He glances at Mulder as if to get his reaction and Mulder's just watching him and then his eyes slide on over to me and I can tell he really, really wishes I hadn't just heard that.

I know I wish I hadn't heard it either. My sphincter muscle clenched up tighter than Jerry Falwell's at a Gay Pride parade just in sympathetic reaction.

Jesus.

From the look on Krycek's face I'd say the hate side is winning out in this ongoing non-affair with Skinner. He crunches his Coke can like he wishes it were someone's neck and throws it in the trash can by the door.

He glares darkly at Skinner and leaves. Sometimes one of Krycek's looks is all the reply you need.

I pause a moment in the doorway to tip my hat at Miss Scully and give her a "Night, Ma'am," before I head out after Krycek. He's moving fast and already almost to the elevator. I just make it inside before the doors close.

He's a dark, cold, ominously silent presence in the corner.

I know Skinner's got reason to feel the way he does about Krycek, but one of these days one of them is actually going to permanently kill the other if they don't work this out.

"So. Are you going to let me have half that candy bar you've got stashed in your pocket or are you going to buy me supper because I'm starved?"

He gives me a little surprised look and slaps his hand over his pocket without thinking.

"Ha! Thought so." I say all smug and satisfied and hold out my hand and wiggle my fingers.

He hands over the candy bar and I wolf it down. He's not even making any dire threats about getting the car smeared in chocolate.

He doesn't buy me supper, but we do stop at a gas station on the way out of town and I get a package of corn nuts and a bottle of chocolate milk. He gets a cup of coffee because he's driving the first leg of the trip.

Back in the car I'm munching on my corn nuts and trying to get my brain to relax so I can get some sleep. I'll be driving in about four hours. We haven't made it out of the city yet and the lights give me a pretty good view of his face. I keep replaying that scene in Skinner's office over and over and remembering the look on Krycek's face.

He's probably replaying that scene himself. The look on Skinner's face. His voice repeating those words like they were a promise and he'd be happy to think about Krycek suffering that kind of violence. I guess Skinner would as payback for what he's been through. But still, that tattoo on Krycek's arm must be burning like hell right now.

I can't stand the silence anymore. It's just the sound of the car on the road and the passing vehicles and the occasional big rig going by and the echo of Skinner's voice in my head and Krycek's pale face.

Finally, I turn the radio on and find something we can both tolerate and adjust the seat so I can stretch my legs out. My eyelids are getting heavy now and the sway of the car is putting me to sleep.

Krycek's like a big, black nightmare sitting over there.

Maybe this trip to his mother's will help settle him some. I can't imagine what Krycek's mother's going to be like.

Part Two

Krycek's been sleeping real restless the past four hours or so. He's got his arm tight around his middle and he's curled away from me. He's going to wake up stiff and sore, that's for sure.

It's dawn. There's light but no sun yet, enough to see we're definitely in the country. I'm anxious to see what it looks like once the sun comes up. I haven't been out of the city in forever and didn't realize just how much I needed to get away from it.

I glance over at Krycek again. He's turned to face me; his hand's rubbing on what's left of his arm. He took his prosthetic off and laid it in the back seat when he got through driving, but I guess it just aches sometimes. He's got that little wrinkle at the bridge of his nose and looks downright puny.

I could sure use a stretch myself and some breakfast. I'm so hungry I could chew the balls off a skunk. Krycek must be starved since I got his candy bar last night.

We pass a sign on the interstate saying there's food and gas up ahead at the next exit.

It's one of those places where all the gas stations and drive-thru food joints are clumped together and not much else. Hey! There's a Cracker Barrel. My kind of food. I can get myself on the outside of some sausage gravy with biscuits and eggs and hot, black coffee. My stomach really starts feeling empty now. It's like a great knawing hole that's getting bigger and bigger and I'm nudging Krycek trying to wake him up. If he doesn't wake up soon I'm going to reach into that back seat and beat him over the head with his arm. I don't think I've ever been so hungry.

Krycek's finally waking up. He's got bedhead and a crease along his cheek from the seatbelt or something. He sure doesn't look like a dangerous badass right now. He's digging the goobers out of the corners of his eyes and trying to focus as I park the car. I inform him we're eating and launch myself out of the car praying they've opened the place up.

Thank god, they're open!

I make my way through all the shit they keep in the front room. It's a combination country store and restaurant. They make you walk through a maze of goods from Patsy Cline CDs and all sorts of Halloween shit to battery-operated toys on the floor that look like ferrets pushing a ball around and around and over and under and you've got to work your way through narrow little paths to get to the eats and if there's a lot of customers you can take up to four days to get to the dining area. Thank god it's so early we're one of their first customers. I glance back through the windows to the parking lot and Krycek's just now rolling out of the car. He's had to dig after his arm and put it on and that's slowed him down.

Well, I ain't waiting on him. I finally get a waitress and a table and order us both some coffee. By the time I do that Krycek's stumbled in. When he gets a startled look at the ferret toy on the floor doing its mating dance with the ball, I can see him make an aborted movement with his hand towards his gun. The look on his face has me smiling, but I have to wipe that off before Krycek can see it. He's not a morning person. Smiling at anything by anyone is not tolerated until he's had caffeine in some form.

Truth be told I'm exactly the same way when I first wake up. But, I'm fully awake now and did I mention starving.

Krycek seems to find me without even attempting to look around and appreciate the nice stone fireplace and homey atmosphere. He just sort of turns on the bat radar and walks over blind. He stands at the wooden table where I'm seated, looks down at me and I say coffee's on the way, he nods and motions with his head that he's going to the bathroom. I nod. Conversation over, thank god. Too much talking this early in the morning is a strain on both of us.

When he gets back the coffee's arrived and I'm placing my order, which takes a few minutes. Krycek loads his coffee up with cream and sugar then orders the buttermilk pecan pancakes with the real maple syrup. The guy must be feeling better; it looks like he's splashed some water on his face.

He's barely got any stubble at all and what's there just looks like he's trying to grow a goatee or something and looks cool as hell without even trying. He's tamed his hair down, too. I run my hand over my cheeks and chin and feel the roughness. I know I must look pretty much like something the cat drug in and then pissed on and I'm going to meet the guy's mother in a couple of hours or so. I hate giving a bad first impression like this and say so. Krycek pauses a moment in cutting his pancake with his fork and actually looks at me probably for the first time this morning and says I look fine to him.

Oh fuck, just forget it. I slice my biscuit and slap a sausage patty in the middle and take it down in two bites.

By the time we waddle out the front door and onto the porch the sun's come up and I get to take a look around. It's mighty pretty country, rolling hills with smoky blue mountains in the distance and so many different trees and plants. I'm just not used to seeing anything quite like the selection they've got here. It almost seems like a tropical rainforest compared to where I grew up.

Krycek and I both do some stretching and back popping. We're not exactly anxious to get into the car again and I take advantage of the fresh air. It's nice, but seems a bit warmer than I'd expected for this time of year. I start to ask Krycek if this is normal and then wonder just how long his mother's lived in this area and how many footprints Krycek's left in this place.

Before I can say anything, he takes a couple of steps down to the sidewalk and looks up at me and says his mother's place is only about an hour's drive from here. He holds out his hand and I fork over the keys. Makes sense for him to drive the rest of the way since he knows where he's going.

Which is fine by me because it gives me a chance to look the place over. We get off the interstate onto a two-lane road that snakes around the hills like the builders were following a wagon trail laid down years ago. There's not much to see except vegetation. It's like a postcard or a picture on a calendar it's so damn pretty. I thought getting out in the country would be great, but now I'm just feeling homesick for the ranch. It doesn't matter this countryside is so different; it stirs up the same feeling and it's like I've just had my guide rope cut loose and that sausage is beginning to stir up my stomach juices something awful just from the yearning to be back there.

I look over at Krycek and I settle down right away. Suddenly, I realize something I hadn't considered before. Krycek's the eye of the hurricane. Now, I know that sounds crazy, Krycek being Krycek; but, in all the swirling chaos that I wake up to every morning I know that he's going to be walking through it all like he knows what the hell's going on and even if he doesn't, just his attitude can calm me down and it's something I can hang on to. I guess we do this sort of thing for each other.

The sun's really come out full force now and the color on some of the trees is so red it's nearly purple. I lower the window all the way and practically stick my head out like a dog to feel the wind in my face.

Krycek looks over and smiles and I'll be damned if he doesn't do the same thing. Aw hell, if we were in a convertible we'd be Thelma and Louise. The city seems to be getting farther and farther away and it's not just miles I'm talking about.

The farther away from the interstate we go the more mountainous it gets. If I recall rightly I think Krycek said the Blue Ridge Parkway isn't too far from the little town his mother lives in. I think it's a big attraction for the tourists to drive along and look at the pretty scenery. I'm gawking so much I sure feel like a tourist.

We pass a sign with the name of the town we're aiming for, Mt. Adelaide, and the population is small enough that everybody probably knows everybody's business. Which could help and it could hurt.

There's more houses now, nothing real fancy, but most of them have big lawns out front and the grass is still green and some have Halloween decorations out. There's lots of big trees and leaves blowing around.

Now we're in more of a business section. There's a grocery store that's got a whole train load of pumpkins out front and bales of hay and some sort of flowers overflowing with blooms. It's already getting so warm I bet by the middle of the afternoon those pumpkins will turn into pumpkin pie all on their own.

A building catches my eye. We're in an area that's full of little stores packed tight together. The first thing I notice is big black letters spelling out Blood Bought Church. I mean they're big and not exactly done in the most professional manner. They're sort of plastered over most of the front of the building almost like graffiti on the side of a rail car. The building or church or whatever is light-colored, but it's the darkest place, like the sunshine's afraid to get near it. The windows seem like black holes into the hellmouth itself; probably because there's a porch that runs the length of the building blocking out most of the light, except what's brave enough to sneak under. It's the spookiest church I've ever seen. I crane my head to keep looking as we drive by.

We turn onto a street that seems different from the others. It's narrow and covered in something like cobblestones that give a thumpy sound under the tires. The shops are nicer here and look like they're selling homemade crafts by the locals for the tourist trade. We had places like this back home. Some of them look real interesting, but Krycek's focused on getting up the mountain.

We come to the end of this street, turn onto Blue Mouse Rd. and wind around a lot as we go up the mountain a ways further, make a sharp curve and the vegetation opens up and there she sits.

It's the house from Psycho only a hell of a lot prettier. This old Victorian isn't dark; it's painted all sorts of colors, sort of like the leaves on the trees that surround it. There's a big yard, but no fence. We turn off the road onto a driveway that's just tire-worn tracks in the grass that've been filled in with gravel. They crunch as we drive slowly up to the car port that's attached to the side of the house.

There's a car parked under it; so, someone's home. It's quiet except for a bird hollering his head off in a nearby tree. I guess he's trying to tell the people in the house they've got company.

My grandmother would have loved this place. There's a climbing rose growing up one of the supports of the carport and it's got these big pink blooms. Both my grandmother and mother had the worst luck with flowers. If the summer droughts didn't kill them the goats or the chickens or the grasshoppers did. They worked so damn hard. Sometimes they just wanted to look up a minute and see something pretty looking back.

I ask Krycek how long his mother's been here and he tells me they moved here when he was 12. It's hard imagining him as a little boy, a little Krycek running around in the rose bushes.

We grab our satchels out of the car and make our way up the steps to the porch and the front door. There's rocking chairs and a swing that looks like it gets used a lot. The front door's open except for a screen door. It seems to be completely dark inside the house, especially after coming in from the bright sunlight.

Krycek knocks on the wood frame of the screen door and hollers hello and then starts to open it. The screechy sound its hinges make brings back a flood of memories, of kids laughing, squealing with laughter the way only kids can, the screen door opening and closing with a loud bang! Their bare feet running across the wooden boards of the porch, slapping like little hands clapping. And then I'm back in the present and it's just me and Krycek's black, leather covered back.

Before we can walk inside this blonde figure seems to float out of the cool darkness of the house.

It's an almost overwhelming impression of tall blondeness. Ash blonde hair swept up, blonde dress, even her voice is blonde as she purrs out Krycek's name, only she calls him Alex.

Krycek's mother is Kim Novak.

She grabs him and gives him a big hug. Krycek is hugging her back. She pulls away and reaches up to cup his face and I swear to god she actually pinches his cheek.

The fingers holding my bag go a bit numb from the shock and I nearly drop it. I just never thought I'd see the day, you know? Krycek getting his cheek pinched. I don't know why I'm so shocked. I mean she's his mother and all, maybe I was expecting Ma Barker toting a sub-machine gun with a chaw of tobacco in her lip.

But then there's some movement behind them. Someone else is there, but I can't see who it is, then Krycek's mother lets go of him and steps back. Krycek looks at the doorway where a woman is standing looking up at him.

Delicate is the first impression I get, slender and fine. She opens her arms up wide, like a ballerina she's so graceful. She's focused on Krycek like nothing's going to come between them and he just seems to pause a second, sort of taking the sight of her in and then he's crushing her to him.

It's so personal I have to look down.

My eyes light on the blonde's shoes. She's standing beside me and I look up; she's nearly as tall as I am. She's watching Krycek and the other woman and you can tell she's so happy she's about to bust. Up close she's older than I first thought, but she's taken real good care of herself.

She turns her eyes on me and they're crinkled from her smile. They're the damnedest eyes. Sexy, sure, but it's like you can't look away. A woman starts to hum softly, somewhere, almost too low to hear, but you stop breathing just so you can hear it better, an odd tune that flows along like someone unseen, passing by the open window and then they're gone round the house, but you can almost hear...

"Cleo!"

I blink, startled, and stare at the blonde woman's smiling face, turn around to see Krycek and the other woman, who I know now must be his mother instead of Kim...Cleo, looking at me like something's just happened, but I sure as hell don't know what it is.

Before I can say a thing a cat meows. We look down at our feet where there's this gun-metal gray cat with a stubby tail twining around the blonde's legs and purring so loud it sounds like an outboard motor.

She laughs and scoops him up. "Oh, Piewacket, you didn't want to miss our Alex's return, either, did you." She lets him jump back down. He immediately goes to Krycek, who seems to be expecting him, gathers himself and leaps into the crook of Krycek's arm as easy as you please. Krycek laughs and eases him over so the cat's hanging on his other shoulder and he can scratch him under the chin. The cat loves this. He starts drooling so much it's coming out in a long, slimy, ropy string that glistens in the light.

Krycek must love this cat a lot because he doesn't seem to care that the cat's slimeing his jacket. He just laughs and lets the cat drop back down. His mother wipes his jacket off. Only your mother would love you enough to wipe cat drool like that off you with her bare hand.

Now I see where Krycek gets his grit.

She asks Alex...Krycek...to make the introductions. He introduces me to his mother. She's going by Alicia Karsavina, which could even be her real name. Who the hell knows for sure. The blonde is Cleo Zane and apparently a very close friend of the family.

We all decide it would be a good idea for Krycek and me to freshen up after our all night drive. We pick up our satchels as we start into the house. Cleo wraps her arm around Alicia's shoulders and gives her a quick hug. Alicia looks up at the other woman and there's something easy about the way their bodies fit together, familiar, and the look that's passing between them...

Oh.

Krycek's mother and Cleo.

I take a quick glance at Krycek and he's just looking at them with this small smile on his face like he's the proud parent.

After the bright sunlight the dark of the house makes it hard to really take in the details. The ceilings are high, which is what you'd expect in a house like this. Lots of wood, dark wood and wallpaper. There's a wide staircase heading straight up to the second floor with a landing and a large stained glass window.

I pause a minute to take a look at it. Really tall, old-growth trees with dark mountains in the background and a blue sky. A woman's standing in the foreground like she's going to step out of the window and run down the stairs. She's beautiful, young and slender with long, dark hair blowing in a cloud behind her and she's wearing some sort of white robe that's pressed against her by the same wind that's blowing her hair. You can see every curve. She's got her head turned a bit to the side and your eyes move in that direction to see what she's looking at.

At first I don't see it and then I spot something standing under one of the trees. There's a pale face of something in the shadows of the woods. I step closer and you can make out that it is a man or something with a man's face and naked chest. The rest of him is hidden in the bushes except for what looks like a goat's hoof where his foot should be. It's hard to tell. He sort of blends in with the woods so much you can't tell where all his bits are.

"Cowboy!"

Jesus Christ! I nearly jump out of my skin. I turn around to tell Krycek to stop fucking scaring the living piss out of me and then stop before the words get out of my mouth. There's women present.

They've already gone a ways down the hallway. Krycek comes back to stand beside me and look up at the window. The light shining through onto his face is mostly green and blue and there's something familiar...

I look back at the face of whatever it is lurking in the woods and back at Krycek. Damn, but there's something really similar about their faces or maybe it's just the light playing tricks.

I tell him I'm just admiring the art work. He continues to stare at it for a second longer and then just turns and walks back towards the women with, "Hurry up, Cowboy. Don't you want a shower?"

His mother steps forward, her hand outstretched to grab his and pull him forward, further into the shadows and away from the colored light. She looks back over her shoulder at me and smiles this shy little smile.

You know how two people can not look exactly alike, but you know for a certain fact they're related? Sort of like Judy Garland and Liza Minelli. It's like that with Krycek and his mother. It's a tilt of the head or a smile or a tone in their voice.

I take one last look back at the window before I head after them. I imagine the woman's dark hair more silver than black.

Shit, I stop with the imagining and head towards that shower they're promising me.

Part Three

I've never stood this close to Krycek before while another guy kisses him full on the lips.

To tell you the truth I've never actually seen two guys making out, period. It's not exactly something that comes up often in our line of work. Kill them, yes. Kiss them, no. So, okay, Krycek's in love with the Skin Man, got the tattoo to prove it, and I know that in my head; but it's not like I dwell on the actual physical fucking ramifications.

Hell, I never even saw my father get this friendly with my mother. We weren't exactly a demonstrative family.

I'm getting an eye full now, let me tell you, and it's like trying to look away from a car wreck, a really nasty pileup. The kind where you know it's not something you want to see and it's not like I haven't seen broken, maimed and dead bodies before; but you can't help looking anyway. The curiosity is too great.

And, no, the curiosity doesn't go that far.

I'm just damned uncomfortable around any show of emotion. I get nervous and twitchy and damned embarrassed. If I could blush, I would. Dammit.

I can't get around them either. Krycek and I were halfway down the stairs after taking our showers and changing into some clean clothes when we run into this guy coming in the front door. I'll have to tell you about the bedroom they've got me in later, after Krycek and whoever the hell he is are finished swapping spit. You would not believe that bed. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep a wink in it and after seeing this personal moment of Krycek's I know for damn sure I'm going to have nightmares. Somebody remind me again why I came on this trip into the twilight zone.

To be perfectly honest Krycek didn't start it. The other guy just sort of came in the door, looked up the stairs at us, seemed to recognize Krycek in a religious epiphany sort of way, gave a really girlie scream and launched himself up the stairs like a flying squirrel and latched himself onto Krycek's mouth.

Thank god Krycek's trying to push the guy away now; but the flying squirrel guy has sucked onto Krycek's lips so tight there's a little wet, smacking sound when they separate. God, this is just too damn much information here.

"Alex! You're home! I can't believe it. When did you..." The guy's voice is a lot deeper than the girlie scream had led me to believe it would be. He's got long, straight, black hair pulled back into a pony tail and eyes like a predatory Bambi.

Krycek is still having to hold him back with one hand because the guy's body is actually vibrating like it wants to snap right back against Krycek if he ever loosens his grip.

"Benny, it's good to see you. Sort of an unexpected trip for me and my friend here. Why don't you let me introduce you, huh Benny?" Krycek's working his arm around Benny's shoulders and turning him around so he can try and focus the guy's attention onto me, which he does for a split second and back those eyes snap to Krycek's face like a filing to a magnet.

"How long are you staying, Alex?"

I can see Benny the Squirrel and I are going to be real pals.

Krycek keeps darting looks at me like I can read his fucking mind. And, scarily enough, I think I can. He's pretty close to begging me to help him out here and I'm feeling in a generous mood; although, it's not often I get to see Krycek with such a pleading, puppy dog look on his face. Who am I kidding; I've never seen this look on his face before. Unfortunately, I don't get to savor the moment because it seems I can never just sit back and watch when it comes to Krycek and his little personal dramas.

I reach out and take the guy's hand and begin to shake it, vigorously. Damn, he's got cold hands. He finally turns his focus on me as I start to introduce myself, still shaking his hand like I'm a damn idiot. "Howdy there, Benny is it? Right nice to meet you. Can't say as my old friend Krycek here has told me a whole lot about you, but he sure seems to have an interesting family." I suddenly wonder if Benny is related to Krycek. I know in some cultures brothers kiss, but this is a bit extreme even for Krycek.

Benny answers in this low, breathy voice as if he's read my mind, "Alex and I are not related."

I give an internal sigh and heartfelt prayer of thank you, Jesus, and then get caught up in the guy's big eyes locked onto my face with all the intensity of a hawk that's just spotted a field mouse and wonder why the hell I wanted to get his attention anyway. There's something damn creepy about this guy.

Krycek nudges and maneuvers the guy around till he's facing down the stairs and we all start making our way down. Krycek's got his hand on the back of squirrel boy's neck and seems intent on keeping it there as a way of controlling the guy. Benny gives off the impression he could latch back onto Krycek at any moment, given the opportunity.

This little visit to Krycek's family home is proving far more entertaining than I ever imagined it would be.

We make our way to the kitchen, where we find Krycek's mother and Clara. It's a big room at the back of the house. There's a back door that's open with a screen door onto a porch. It's nice and pleasant with the morning air moving through the house. There's some mighty nice smells that make me hungry again even though we already had a big breakfast. Krycek pushes squirrel boy into a chair at a kitchen table that takes up most of the middle of the room. It's covered in a red and white checkered oil cloth with salt and pepper shakers sitting in the middle. I get the feeling Krycek did his homework on this table; but, right now my partner seems to be pushing Benny into place like he's trying to glue him to the chair with just the pressure from his hand on his shoulder.

Benny seems to finally settle enough that Krycek feels safe to walk over to his mother and give her another hug and kiss. I've been here 30 minutes and never seen so much hugging and kissing in my entire life.

Clara comes over and puts what looks like a glass of chocolate milk in front of Benny and places a steaming cup of black coffee by me that smells like a little bit of heaven. She gives me that smile of hers like I amuse the shit out of her and tells me to take a seat. I sit, but it's as far from Benny as I can get. He's still looking at me like I'm a bug under his microscope or maybe a fly he'd like to pull the wings off of.

Krycek sits down opposite me and his mother places a cup of tea in front of him. We all finally get settled at the table and I think I'm at long last going to find out what exactly is going on here to make Krycek hotfoot it home, but no such luck.

Krycek's mother and Clara start in on Krycek about the really important stuff and it's an amazing thing to watch. I've seen the professional law enforcement types interrogate people and these two women could teach those folks a few tricks. They're all motherly concern and soft voices and subtle touches and more relentless and ruthless than Chinese water torture.

They don't want to know what Krycek's been doing. They want to know who he's been doing. It seems they're concerned about his hermit like ways and are more than worried he's going to end up a lonely old man when he's got such a wealth of love he could be sharing with that special person and why hasn't he done something about that. The implication being that Krycek's getting a bit long in the tooth and what the hell's he waiting on.

They don't seem to be bothered in the least that me and Benny are sitting here sharing in this little intimate family moment. I guess from Benny's reaction to Krycek I can assume he's a real close friend of the family, but they seem to have included me a lot quicker than I would have myself. I'm still trying to decide how I feel about that.

All through this Krycek's sipping his tea and looking more and more uncomfortable. I give him credit for holding out as long as he has. It's amazing really. His mother's such a delicate looking thing and yet I'd bet she could face down any of those old Consortium farts and walk off leaving them mewling in the dust. He's not squirming too much in his chair, but he starts to rub his hand over the Skin Man tattoo and I see a look growing on Clara's face and a light suddenly seems to come on in her eyes.

"You've got someone special don't you Alex?" I'd swear the soft music of Clara's voice would make a dead man get up and dance a happy tune.

From the look on Alex's face he's crumbling fast. Oh yeah, he's a goner now. He sort of gets a tight grip over the tattoo and glares at Clara for a second like he's accusing her of peaking at something it's impossible for her to see, but then he kind of sinks into his chair and gives a little nod with his eyes fastened onto the tea cup in front of him, just like the 12-year-old kid he must have been doing his homework.

I'd have found it highly amusing if his mother hadn't taken it into her head to suddenly turn my way with a considering look and then Clara's eyes turn in my direction and I get the feeling eyes are boring a hole in the back of my head and I turn to see Benny the Squirrel Boy staring at me like he's discovered a pubic hair floating on his milk. It dawns on me what they're thinking, that I'm Krycek's special someone.

"Now, wait just a minute here, folks, me and Krycek, we ain't...we're not...Krycek help me out here, dammit!" I really hate it when I whine and the more I protest the more certain their eyes get that Krycek and I are practically a married couple. Krycek's just sitting there smirking at me with that glint in his eyes. He's highly amused, the bastard. I give him a good, hard kick in the shins and with my cowboy boots that's gotta hurt some. He loses that amused look pretty darn quick, the little fucker.

I guess I'm lucky he doesn't kick me back, just glares at me all evil like and then lets everyone know that they shouldn't start planning our wedding reception just yet. It doesn't get him out of the hot water, though, cause they're not giving up until he spills the beans; so, he just comes right out and lays the whole sordid mess of his love life, naked and in all its glory, onto the table.

When he starts it's kind of slow and halting and then he picks up a little speed cause his mother and Clara are giving him these reassuring looks and little murmurs. Hell, I start to feel a little jealous I can't tell them about my attraction for Miss Scully. But, he's brutally honest about it all. He doesn't play it like there's any hope, just this feeling he's got for the man and how it's never going to amount to anything and why and they should just give up about it because he has and not worry about him because he's fine and everybody's fine and the whole damn world's fine.

By the end of it all he's a little out of breath and I feel the same way, almost like I'd gone through it with him. I don't know what it is about emotions but they tire me out more than just about anything. His mother and Clara are looking at him with such love in their eyes. Damn. It's nearly enough to put a lump in my throat.

Krycek's sort of glaring at them, daring them to feel sorry for him. The wrinkle over his nose is etched in pretty deep and he's looking like he could panic and bolt if they even give a hint they're going to make him out to be their poor little boy with the broken heart. His mother, though, she's just looking at him with this glow on her face like he's given her a treasure beyond price. She's proud of her son; you can tell that and Krycek seems to realize there's not going to be any embarrassing moments and starts to relax a little.

Clara gets up and moves behind Krycek's mother on her way to the kitchen counter. She lets her hand rest on the woman's shoulder and gives it a squeeze as she passes and Krycek's mother glances up at her briefly with a look in her eyes that's all soft and like they're sharing a secret. Damn, if they both don't look as pleased as punch. You'd think Krycek had told them he was getting married to his high school sweetheart and settling down to raise a passel of grand kids right next door.

I might as well try and nail Jell-O to the wall as figure Krycek and his family out.

Clara comes back with more coffee and more tea. Benny still seems to be nursing that chocolate milk of his and that's not the only thing he's nursing from the way his eyes are studying Krycek. Benny's not said a word throughout all this, but you can tell the wheels are turning in that strange, pointy little head.

When he does say something it's totally unexpected. "Martha showed up last night. Jake's scared and so's Toby. Matt's talking about closing the place for a while, but that's stupid because there's no way he can afford to do that." He takes another sip of his milk and seems to be satisfied he's said all there is to say on the subject.

Krycek's mother looks at him with this intense, penetrating look and I realize where Krycek got that look to begin with. Krycek looks at his mother and finally gets around to asking just what the hell is going on around here. Of course he leaves out the profanity, but you get my meaning.

It seems some people in town have gone missing, friends of theirs, and Clara and Krycek's mother seem to have a notion it's due to foul play and they have a good idea where to start looking. The local sheriff wouldn't consider them officially missing for a long time and now, after some relentless aggravation from Krycek's mother and Clara, they've got an official investigation underway which is going absolutely fucking nowhere because the sheriff's department really doesn't give a shit. You can tell his mother and Clara are pretty darn upset about it all.

Krycek's not pleased his mother and Clara are upset. From the look on his face, we're going to be stirring things up in this town.

Krycek and I make plans to head into town and look things over. Just as we're about to head out the front door, I feel a tug on my sleeve and turn around to see squirrel boy staring at me. Jesus, he gives me the creeps he's so fucking quiet. I hate being snuck up on. I'm usually the one doing the Davy Crockett impersonation.

"You're his friend, right, not just his partner?" Benny's still got my sleeve between his fingers, but honestly that's not what's keeping me standing rooted to the spot. We're standing close to the front door and the light is enough that I can see his pupils clearly against the light brown of his eyes, those big, damn Bambi eyes, and for just a second I'd swear they look like vertical slits, like the goat's eyes I've seen on the ranch. But then they're back to normal and he's still tugging on my sleeve wanting his answer.

"You coming, Cowboy? Benny, leave him alone, we've got to get going." Krycek's yelling back at us. He's already at the car.

"Yeah, Benny, he's my friend." I tug at my sleeve, anxious to get away and then something in the look he's giving me makes me stop and say as earnest as I can, "He's my best friend, Benny. Ain't nothing going to happen to him while I'm around. Aim to see to it personal."

Benny relaxes his hold and I'm free. Krycek's standing with the driver side door open, leaning against the car with his arm resting on the top, a look on his face that's both impatient and thoughtful. I can feel Benny's presence back at the house, watching us.

I open the car door and Krycek's still standing there studying me. There's no way he could have heard what I told Benny.

"I thought you was in a hurry, Krycek. You gonna stand there all day?"

He slides into the car and starts it up. We back out and he says all casual like, "Benny's been a boarder for years. Mom and Clara sort of adopted him. He's harmless." He gives me a sharp look like I'm going to contradict him on this, but I just give him an, "Unh huh." This irritates the hell out of him because he can never figure out if it's an affirmative or a negative 'unh huh'.

Then I put this shit eating grin on my face. "Benny sure seemed mighty pleased to see you, Krycek."

He slides me a killer look through his slitted eyes and doesn't answer.

My grin gets bigger. "Ain't holding back on me here are you Krycek? I mean Skinner's got nothing to worry about does he?"

He starts cussing then, not loud, just a low, continuous stream of references to my family tree and the usual. I just take out my toothpick and start chewing on it real thoughtful like. Stopped smoking a while back, but can't get over the habit of having something in my mouth. Some sort of weird oral fixation I guess. Must've been weaned way too early.

Finally, he knows he's going to have to say something, otherwise I'll just keep teasing him about it all day. Can't help it. It's a guy thing.

"He might have a crush, I guess...sort of a crush thing,... maybe." Krycek says it like he's confessing something under torture.

"Unh, huh."

"Fuck. You are just about the most irritating son-of-a-bitch I've ever met. Why the hell can't you just come out and say what you mean. All the time it's unh, huh or nope or yep. I know you've got a brain in there somewhere under that big, damn, stupid hat or has...."

By this time I'm chuckling and Krycek is having a good time cussing. Just your typical day in the life of Krycek and Cowboy.