The New Help

When Mulder got home, he was startled to discover Byers waiting for him outside his apartment. It was late and he was tired, so his voice was a little impatient when he asked, "What do you want?" He shoved the key in the lock. "Where's the rest of the gang?"

Looking grim, Byers followed Mulder into his apartment. "I am here because Langley is with Frohike to make sure he doesn't do anything drastic. He is most likely in the process of drinking himself into oblivion."

Mulder arched an eyebrow at that, his irritation forgotten. "Why would he do that?"

"Because of a disturbing piece of information that has come into our possession." Byers shifted his feet, his determined manner faltering as he hesitated. "I was elected to deliver this information to you but please believe, it was not by choice."

Mulder knew it had to be bad if Byers felt the need for a disclaimer before it. "What is it?"

Byers shifted one last time before resolve hardened his boyish features, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. As distasteful as his news was, Mulder had to hear it.

Mulder paused at Scully's door and scrubbed at the day-old beard on his jaw. This was insane. There was no way that Scully had Krycek with her in her apartment. Not unless he was holding a gun on her. Even then Scully wouldn't voluntarily cooperate with the traitor that shot his father and helped kill her sister. She would die first.

It was late, past nine o'clock. He tried to think of a good reason to be knocking on her door. Something that didn't start, 'I'm here to check up on you,' but nothing was coming to mind. His mind was blasted to blankness by the news that Scully had Krycek with her in her apartment. He lifted his hand to knock. He would think of something when he saw her.

He froze when a moan drifted through the door. There was a pained whimper, a gasp, and then a nearly inaudible plea, "Oh, Alex."

Krycek! That bastard! What was he doing to her? He threw himself against the door. The door groaned but didn't budge. He jumped back and this time gave the door a hard kick. The door burst open, and Mulder charged in, his gun drawn.

To stop, slack-jawed, at the sight before him.

Scully reclined comfortably in an easy chair. Kneeling at her feet, massaging her bare feet, was Alex Krycek. He was wearing a white T-shirt and a skin-tight pair of black jeans. But even more bizarre and what made Mulder shake his head, afraid he was hallucinating, was the frilly white apron tied around the heartless assassin's hips.

"Krycek!" He was aware his voice was as shrill as a little girl's but couldn't seem to do anything about it. He turned his horrified gaze on the petite redhead who continued to calmly relax against the chair, barely bothering to look up at his destructive entrance. Krycek calmly continued to rub both hands soothingly up and down her right foot.

"Scully!" His mouth gaped like a fish out of water. Through force of will alone he was able to force his jaw to click close. He continued to split a horrified glance between the two people in front of him, Scully, his best friend and trusted partner, and Krycek, his worst enemy on earth.

Krycek seemed strangely unaffected by the sight of Mulder waving a gun at him and turning red-faced with rage. Meanwhile, Scully calmly watched as Mulder look around wildly. After a moment his accusing stare settled on her as a target.

"Scully!" That was all he seemed able to say, however, and Scully finally took pity on him.

She leaned forward and lightly touched Krycek on the shoulder. At her touch, his hands stopped moving over her foot, and he looked up at her. "Alex," she said sweetly, "why don't you go check on dinner?"

A beautiful smile broke over his face, and he gracefully rose to his feet. "Yes, Dana." With a smile sweet enough to make angels weep, he turned and headed for the kitchen, seemingly totally unaware of the large angry man pointing a gun at him. He strolled away, fastidiously straightening and resettling the lacy apron around his hips before disappearing through the swinging doors.

Mulder once again lost muscle-control at this exhibition and stared after him slack-jawed. He didn't...? He...? What...? Peripherally he noticed Krycek was wearing briefs under all that tight black denim. He shook himself and forced his attention to swing around to Scully.

Before he had an opportunity to straighten out any of the chaotic thoughts tumbling through his head and actually ask one of the many questions he had, Scully straightened in her seat. She stood, raising her arms in a lazy stretch.

"Mulder," she said calmly. "I hope you have an explanation for once again busting my door in?" She moved past him towards the door, frowning at the splintered wood. After pushing the door shut and fighting with it to get it to latch, she turned to watch him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"I... you... he..." He was starting to feel dizzy.

She stepped forward, beginning to look concerned. "Mulder, are you all right? You look pale." She took his arm and tugged him towards the couch. "Here. Sit down."

He collapsed onto the couch, gun forgotten in his right hand. "Scully!" he finally managed to burst out. "*What* is going on?"

Scully sank down next to him, watching him closely for the first signs of fever. He was pale and trembling. There was that flu thing going around. She was surprised he hadn't caught it already.

"Scully?" He ignored the cool hand suddenly pressed to his forehead and concentrated on her, refusing to be distracted.

"Nothing is going on, Mulder," she said absently. "Alex was giving me a foot massage while we waited for dinner to finish cooking." Her hand dropped from his forehead, so he had an unobstructed view of the soft smile that came over her face. "He's so sweet. I mentioned how I'd been standing all day over that autopsy you had me do and how much my feet hurt, and he insisted." She sighed contentedly.

Mulder clutched at his head, the forgotten gun in his right hand slamming into his forehead. The pain only distracted him a moment, however, before the reality of the situation came crashing down again. He dropped his hands, shaking the gun free as if it were stuck on by glue. It dropped to the couch beside him, quickly forgotten.

"Scully," his voice dropped to a desperate whisper. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Scully, I'm getting you out of here. I don't know what he's done to you, but I'm sure the guys can figure it out. I'll call them on the way." He tried to pull her to her feet, but she pushed his hands away with a laugh.

"Mulder, there's nothing wrong with me." She was smiling at him, humoring him. "Why don't you stay for dinner and see for yourself. He's a brand new Alex Krycek." She proclaimed this proudly, as if she herself had made a changed man of him.

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Alex Krycek is a liar and a murderer. Remember?" He shook her, throwing the words at her rapid-fire. "You said those very words to me, remember? Remember your sister, my father, selling secrets to foreign nationals, leaving me in that Russian gulag to rot? Remember what he did to Skinner? Nanites that nearly killed him? Remember?" He was getting desperate now, afraid she had lost her mind. "Scully, you *have* to remember!"

Frowning, she jerked away from his increasingly rough handling. "Yes, Mulder," she said sharply. "I remember." She smiled. "But things are different now. He loves me."

Mulder's jaw dropped. "Whaaaa....?"

She patted his knee. "Come on, Mulder." She stood up, pulling him to his feet. "You'll see."

She gracefully walked into the kitchen. Mulder staggered in after her.

Krycek was busily arranging another place setting on the beautifully arranged table. The centerpiece was an elegant flower arrangement, tall enough to add depth to the table but not so tall that the diners couldn't see each other. Two tall slim candles were lit, glimmering off white china and shining silverware.

Krycek looked up as they entered and smiled. Mulder was relieved to notice that the lacy apron had disappeared, but this close he uneasily noticed Krycek's muscles ripple under the skin-tight T-shirt as he extended his hand to Mulder. "Krycek, Alex Krycek. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Distracted, Mulder numbly held out his hand. "Mulder," he mumbled.

He shook Mulder's hand firmly, the warmth of his touch a shock against his skin. Krycek nodded politely and turned away to seat Scully.

The meal was delicious. By the end of it, that was all Mulder was aware of. Krycek continued to act the charming and personable host, solicitously asking if anyone wanted seconds or thirds whenever either of them were near finishing an entree.

"Alex, I couldn't eat another bite," Scully said laughingly, pushing away from the table. "Come join Mulder and me in the living room."

Alex frowned and looked around. "I really wanted to get started on the dishes."

She grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his. "You can do dishes later. Come talk with us."

"Okay," he said reluctantly. He pulled away from her clutch. "Let me put a few things away first. I'll be right out." He smiled and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I promise."

She smiled back at him. "All right, Alex, but hurry. I'm sure Mulder has lots of questions for you."

Scully led Mulder out to the living room and they both took a seat on the couch. They could hear Krycek clattering around in the kitchen, the clink of dishes carrying to them easily.

"What did you do to him, Scully? Give him a lobotomy?" Mulder sounded baffled.

"Do you like him?"

"I... I'm not sure." Mulder thought a moment. "He doesn't *seem* like Alex Krycek."

"Well, no, he wouldn't," Scully said casually. "I have him in Domestic Mode."

"Domestic Mode?"

"Oh. Well." She gestured vaguely towards the kitchen. "This model's a prototype. There aren't really any set names for his modes. That's just my little name for it." She raised her voice and called, "Oh, Alex!"

She lowered her voice to speak to Mulder. "He accepts voice commands or manually entered commands."

Alex came in. "Yes, Dana?"

Mulder nervously stood when he came in. Scully moved around to Krycek's back. "Maybe this would help you understand." She lifted his shirt, but Krycek didn't seen aware of anything amiss at her actions. She did something that Mulder couldn't see then let his shirt drop and abruptly stepped back.

The anxious, helpful look dissolved as mistrust and anger bloomed in his eyes. His gaze landed on Mulder, and he jumped, looking around desperately for an escape. There was no escape. "Mulder!"

Mulder remembered his gun for the first time since he dropped it. He turned and scrambled for it on the couch. By the time he had grabbed it and turned back around, Krycek had grabbed Scully and jerked her around in front of him, his hand at her throat. "Don't do it, Mulder! Drop it or I'll kill her."

Scully looked calm in the face of this new threat, only squirming lightly against the arm wrapped under her breasts. Krycek lifted her against him as he unsuccessfully tried to hide behind a woman too many inches shorter than himself.

Mulder slowly lowered the gun to the floor. Empty hands raised, he stood up. "Let her go."

Krycek ignored the command. "How did I get here? What's going on?"

Mulder was aware of an oddly comfortable feeling settling onto his shoulders even as Krycek continued to threaten Scully. This was more like it. There was a lean desperate look of mistrust and paranoia on Krycek's elegantly attractive features that he couldn't help but savor. This was the Krycek he had come to know. <And love,> whispered a tiny voice at the back of his head that he steadfastly resolved to ignore. "What do you mean, how did you get here? You've *been* here, Krycek. Don't you remember dinner?"

Krycek violently shook his head in denial and lifted Scully higher. "Tell me what's going on, or Scully's gonna regret it."

The low husky threat in his voice was enough to send a shiver of delight down Mulder's spine. He shook himself and pulled his attention back to Scully's safety. He would have to do something to get her away from him. There was no telling what a lunatic like Krycek would do to her. Especially the obviously mentally unbalanced lunatic that he had become. He held out his hand, trying to be reasonable. "Let her go, Krycek. We can talk about this."

Scully decided she had had enough. "Alex, stop." Just those two words, spoken quietly, and a magical change came over Krycek. He froze and his face went blank.

She easily wriggled out of his grip and stepped away. She turned to appraise Krycek, still in his frozen stance and glaring fiercely, her hands on her hips and her head cocked. "I think I like him like that. He looks like a beautiful statue about to come to life. What do you think, Mulder?"

There was only silence.

She turned to look at him. "Mulder?"

Mulder was standing with his jaw agape, staring. Krycek wasn't moving. As far as Mulder could tell, he wasn't even breathing.

"Mulder? Do you like him?"

"What is this, Scully? What's going on?"

"A friend of mine works in the research and development division of a robotics company. When she asked for specs on a model they were building for housework and odd jobs, I sent her Krycek's picture. Turns out she was very interested. We've been corresponding on a regular basis." Scully gestured vaguely in the direction of the motionless Krycek. "He's the result."

"You mean, she *made* him?" He sounded morally outraged at the idea.

Scully became defensive. "Yes, she *made* him. If it wasn't him it would have been someone else. They needed a model to work from." Scully looked proud as she continued. "He's the prototype. They're letting me try him out for a ninety day trial run. So far he's worked out beautifully." The satisfied smile she unconsciously shot in the Krycek robot's direction told Mulder far more about their relationship than he wanted to know.

"So why did he try to hurt you? Was that a malfunction?"

Scully looked unconcerned. "Oh, just a few extras I had programmed in. I call it Paranoia Mode. He couldn't *really* ever hurt me. I'm his owner. It's for when I'm in the mood for something a little less bland. Domestic Mode is great for a foot rub and a warm supper, but sometimes a girl needs more than that." Scully grinned.

There was silence while Mulder digested this. Scully wasn't consorting with the enemy. She was breaking in a new model of house help that looked and sometimes acted exactly like Alex Krycek. She was doing product tests.

And she hadn't told him. He couldn't believe she hadn't told him. "How long?" Scully looked blank. "How long have you been 'testing' him?"

"Oh." She thought a second. "Only a couple of weeks. He's barely broken in."

Mulder found himself eyeing Krycek up and down, admiring the way those tight jeans hugged his thighs and the way that white T-shirt fit so snug over his torso. He remembered the warmth of his hand in his. "Umm..." Mulder cleared his throat. "Do you mind...?" He cleared his throat again. It was hard for him to believe he was actually going to ask this, but something was pushing him on past his embarrassment.

Scully watched him innocently, but there was a decided gleam in her eye. "What, Mulder?"

"Do you mind if I take him home and try him out?" Mulder rushed out, his face turning pink. "My apartment's a mess," he explained lamely. Trying to meet Scully's gleaming eyes, he failed miserably and looked away, his face turning fire engine red.

Scully eyed him wickedly, but her voice was calm when she answered. "Sure, Mulder. I don't see why not. Just be careful not to break him."

Mulder swallowed hard at that and nodded wordlessly, unable to come up with a rebuttal.

"Alex," Scully called and Krycek snapped back on, paranoia returning to his eyes. "Domestic Mode, Alex." The hatred and distrust disappeared under a friendly smile and a vacuous look.

Mulder cleared his throat. "Um, Scully?"

"Yes, Mulder?"

"Um," Mulder looked highly uncomfortable and squirmed under her knowing gaze. He nearly whispered the next. "I like him better the other way." He wouldn't meet her eyes.

Mulder caught a flashing glimpse of her grin then, "Alex, Paranoia Mode."

Mulder swooped and grabbed up his gun to have it at the ready by the time awareness had settled back into Krycek's eyes. Krycek froze again, but this time under threat of Mulder's gun and with bitter disgust glowing in his fine green eyes. Those scientists had really done an amazing job. "Up against the wall, Krycek."

Krycek was soon handcuffed and ready to travel. Mulder glanced at Scully. "I'll bring him back as soon as I'm done with him," Mulder cleared his throat uncomfortably, "*he's* done, I mean, cleaning and stuff."

She grinned at him. "No hurry, Mulder. Keep him for as long as you need him."

Mulder nodded and ducked his head in embarrassment. Scully could obviously see right through him. He didn't know why he even tried to fool her.

Scully opened the busted door for Mulder to escort his 'prisoner' through. She stuck her head out to watch Mulder shove Krycek down the hall, then sighed and pulled her head back in. She worked on jamming the door shut and throwing the deadbolt. She eyed it unhappily, examining the smashed jamb. She would have to get it fixed first thing in the morning, but it would do for tonight.

She stared thoughtfully at the wood, suddenly wondering if she should have told Mulder more about the care and handling of a Krycek robot. He had special needs, she thought with a grin. First off, Mulder would quickly discover that he only answered to *her* voice commands. Anyone could punch in a command on the control panel, but he would only listen to his owner. Maybe she should give Mulder a call.

She shrugged, turning away. He would find out soon enough, if he hadn't already. She idly wondered if Mulder even knew where Krycek's control panel was. That thought disappeared with the memory of how Mulder had been devouring Krycek with his eyes all through dinner. He'll find it, she decided with a grin. Even if he has to check *everywhere*.

Mulder had rushed out the door with his new toy so quickly that she had forgotten to mention the third mode. It probably wasn't important. It would take quite some contortions to hit that sequence accidentally. She decided he would be perfectly safe.

Probably.

The silence seemed to echo even more now that they had gone. She headed towards her bedroom, tugging open the buttons of her blouse. It was late. She should go straight to bed. Or at the most take a bath first. She turned on the bedside lamp and sat down on the edge of the bed. Her blouse open, she was about to pull it off but stopped with her hands on the material, pensively staring into space.

She really shouldn't. She could go for one night by herself. She wasn't some kind of junkie or something. But the new package had just arrived, and she hadn't had a chance to play with it yet.

She wrestled with herself for a minute before realizing it was only a matter of time before she gave in, so she might as well quit pretending. She sighed her surrender, her hands dropping to her lap. "Fox," she called softly. "Fox, come out and play."

Noises came from her closet as something large banged around inside and then the door opened. Out stepped a perfect replica of Fox Mulder.

Scully sighed with disappointment. "I wanted to introduce you to Alex tonight, Fox, but I guess I'll have to give you a trial run myself." She smiled at him. "Why don't you run us a bath?"