Season Six:
Episode 10

A suburban neighborhood
7:35 pm

Cigarette Smoking Man was standing in the shadows. Smoking. He was watching ... and waiting. Professionally speaking, he had spun the wheels that were required to be in motion. This particular bit of watching and waiting was personal. And private.

From his vantage point, he could see the house clearly. It was empty. It wasn't dark. She had left some lights on. He could easily enter and wait for her inside. In the warmth of the house, rather than in the chill of the shadows. That would scare her. Scaring her was unacceptable. He had done enough of that.

A car turned onto the street. It was hers. She pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. When she opened the door and the vehicle's interior light illuminated, Cigarette Smoking Man could see her collecting packages from her shopping trip. He put out his cigarette and approached silently. As she got out of the car, Cigarette Smoking Man was at her side, wordlessly taking the majority of her packages.

Fox Mulder's mother looked at her benefactor uncertainly. He tilted his head toward the door and waited. She nodded and preceded him. Her hand shook only slightly as she unlocked the door. This man had always unnerved her. That had been part of the attraction.

She waited for him to shut the door behind them before speaking. "What do you want?" Her voice was flat. Emotionless.

"To see you. To explain. If you'll let me."

Dana Scully was observing Alex Krycek. He had been moving around the room restlessly for about 45 minutes. She wasn't certain, but she suspected that his eyes had never quite focused on his surroundings. The only word that Dana could think of for what he seemed to be doing was ... processing. Maybe processing information. Perhaps running through scenarios. She doubted the Lone Gunmen, with all of their computing and hacking prowess, could do it better. Their lives didn't depend on it.

Suddenly he stopped. His eyes focused on Dana. "I need a shower. Care to join me?"

Dana Scully was too surprised to respond, as Krycek approached, picked her up and proceeded toward the bathroom. As he opened the door awkwardly, she managed, "Put me down!"

He instantly obliged, but kept an arm around her waist, while guiding her into the bathroom. "Wait here. I'll be back in a minute." Scully decided that he was unstable, not to mention forward. She had further determined that she was not going to remain in an enclosed space with him, when he returned with a change of clothes for each of them and turned on the shower. Unfortunately with regard to Scully's intentions, he was between her and the bathroom door.

"Ok. I'm betting they don't have a camera in here. We can, if need be, talk until the hot water runs out." He smiled at her while adjusting the temperature of the water. "And if we can sell this, we can use it again. Let's see if you're Best Supporting Actress material."

Dana Scully had thought Fox Mulder was unpredictable. As she watched Krycek put his head under the water, she deemed him to be Mulder's equal in that arena. When he emerged and gestured for Scully to imitate his action, she couldn't believe she did it with imperceptible hesitation. As she made sure her hair was thoroughly wet, she realized that Mulder and Krycek were in some ways very similar. For one thing, they had the same warped brand of charisma, at least as far as she was concerned.

Scully felt ridiculous ... and exhilarated. Doing something this outrageous was completely against her nature. It was also ... liberating. She knew she had a somewhat wacky smile on her face, but she didn't care. Alex grinned back, but rapidly got serious. "Well Agent Scully. If I'm wrong and you're working for any one of the various "thems" in my life, here's where I make my big mistake." His tone was light, but Scully felt the intensity of his scrutiny. She was sure he was looking for any sign of duplicity on her part. After a short time, he seemed satisfied.

"Where to start? Um ... after Marita and I had a falling out of epic proportion, I was forced into a deal with a man you may have met. He was an older Englishman. In his sixties, I think. Quite proper. Always well turned out."

"I believe I've met him."

He nodded before continuing. "We negotiated a trade. A vaccine I brought back from Russia for my life. Seemed like a pretty good deal to me, given that he had a gun and I was handcuffed to something sturdy. When I gave him the vaccine, I wasn't sure what would happen. What he should've done was kill me or just walk away. Instead, he invited me to dinner. I laughed at him, but I went. Only partially because I hadn't had decent food in months. Mostly, I was curious. I ate. He talked. He told me that he was fighting a losing battle. His power base in the group you call the Consortium was rapidly diminishing. Then he described his perspective on what he called "the conflict," what he thought the rules of engagement were ... and how they were changing."

"Then he asked me why I took the vaccine and brought it home. My first instinct was to tell him the story I told Marita. It was plausible enough. I didn't. I told him the truth. After that, he talked for hours. He put all of his cards on the table Dana. At least, I think he did. Had to be most of the deck anyway." Krycek smiled at the memory and ran his hand through his wet hair before forging ahead once more.

"When he was finished, it was my turn. I showed him my hand, such as it was. I knew a few things he didn't. Then we talked about what we thought needed to be done until dawn. There was one immediate problem. A prisoner had to be freed from a military base. For that, Mulder was ... convenient. Convincing Mulder of things has become a hobby of mine. Because of his state of mind, ... his ... crisis of confidence, I had to pull out all the stops." Scully wondered what the chuckle referenced. Mulder had been unusually uncommunicative about that particular encounter with Alex Krycek. Now did not seem an appropriate time to inquire, however.

"After that, I worked with the old man pretty much exclusively. I rousted Cancerman out of hiding, helped acquire Gibson and some other things. But mostly, I listened. The old man had lived with and thought about the issues for a long time. Probably as long as we've been alive. There was a lot to learn. A while later, he invited me to dinner again. He needed to take care of some loose ends, he said. Deal with a leak and give Mulder the vaccine and your location. I offered to do it. Hell, I practically insisted on it. He refused. He said that his colleagues had tired of his challenges to their dogma. He expected to die and ... accepted it. He'd done all he could. He said he had a more interesting future in mind for me. When I expressed a preference for a dull and boring future, he said that, if I wanted any sort of future, I shouldn't run immediately. I needed to wait. He repeated this point several times. I had no idea why."

"So he went. I presume Mulder told you what happened. I waited, ignoring my instincts to the contrary, because the old man had been so adamant. Then I ran. And then ... well, I'm not sure exactly what happened then. What I suspect is that the Consortium needed a scapegoat for something, probably you and Mulder gumming up the works in Antarctica. I was it. I also think that the old man knew there was a chance that things wouldn't go the way they planned. It seems he was right."

Krycek paused and tested the temperature of the water. "We don't have much more time. I know what he knew, Dana. I'm just not sure what to do with the information."

Krycek paused uncertainly. Scully looked at him in silence, considering what he had told her. She felt she should be skeptical, but it didn't feel right. Recognizing the danger, Dana Scully admitted to herself that she believed Alex Krycek. Her investigative training demanded further questioning, however. "Why did he confide in you?"

"I have no idea. Initially, it was probably because he was totally in control. He had the gun, the allies, the information and the cognac. One of the very few things that separates us from the animals." Krycek laughed at Dana's bemused expression. "He said that. I didn't. As time wore on, maybe he sensed a kindred spirit. Maybe he had no alternatives. Maybe I reminded him of a long lost nephew. Your guess is as good as mine."

"Do you have any proof? Tangible evidence of any of this?"

"I can get it, if they don't know about the old man's security arrangements. If they do, no."

There was so much Scully wanted to know. Given the limited time, she opted for what she considered the most necessary bit of information. "Do you remember what they want to know?"

Krycek slowly shook his head. "I remember someone telling me about some sort of mission. I think you were there. Then I remember hiking somewhere hot. Wishing for a beer. Then ... something happened."

His shrug seemed calculated to communicate to Dana that he didn't know what the something was. She wasn't sure she believed him, but she didn't think she'd have any luck obtaining the information by indirect means in the face of his negative response to her direct inquiry. To do something constructive, Dana put her hand under the water and pulled it out quickly. "Ice cold, Alex."

He turned off the water, and picked up the clothes he'd brought for himself. Winking at Dana, he turned his back to her and started to change. Sighing, she followed suit. He stared at the bathroom door, until she tapped his shoulder. He turned, noted her somewhat evil grin and the rolled up wet towel, and exited the bathroom at best possible speed. The thrown towel hit him square in the back of the head.

Cigarette Smoking Man was watching his companion closely. She had listened to his tale without comment. She was now staring out the window but was actually looking inward. Examining her feelings and her possible responses through the filter of her conscience, he suspected.

"I find it hard to accept that Bill had to die. He was a virtual innocent."

"That was one of the reasons. Those who have left innocence far behind are loathe to be reminded of it. And Bill posed a threat. He'd lost the will to continue his battle against the way the Project was being run but retained the ability to sabotage it. Bill's information and Fox's drive was an unacceptable combination. The irony was that Bill, in baring his soul and making his confession to Fox, would've ensured Fox's death as well as his own."

"Surely Bill could've been made to see that."

Cigarette Smoking Man could see that the woman did not believe the words she had uttered. He also sensed that she needed verification of that disbelief. While he suspected that she would not accept it from him, he decided to make the effort. "I can't see how. The arguments were made. Not by me, of course, but by those that Bill might've listened to. Bill was dying. He was both obsessed and depressed by what he viewed to be the charade of his life. He decided ... "

"So he decided that throwing Fox to the same pack of wolves that orchestrated the hated "charade" would absolve him? That makes no sense. To suggest such a contrivance is beneath you."

She elicited a purely emotional reaction from him. This woman always could. With an effort, Cigarette Smoking Man unclenched his fists and fought to keep the anger out of his voice. "Do you actually believe that Bill thought about it that way? I don't. He viewed Fox as separate and apart. In Bill's mind, Fox was uncorrupted and uncorruptable. Bill considered that a positive consequence of Samantha's disappearance. You know as well as I that Fox was obsessed with discovering "the truth". That obsession made him both manipulative and manipulable. Bill wouldn't acknowledge that reality, even when he used it to his advantage."

She didn't argue, but Cigarette Smoking Man knew that that didn't mean she accepted his explanation. With a tired sigh, she asked "Why are you telling me this? Why now?"

"The Project has reached a crossroads. We have arrived at what history, were any of these activities ever to be recorded as such, would remember as a watershed moment. Things have been set in motion. The operation will run its course. Succeed or fail. Fox is ... involved."

He saw the disbelief on her face. Disbelief became horror. Horror transformed into a stronger negative emotion, directed at her companion. "You promised he would be kept out of it. You gave your word." Her bitter laugh stung more than he would ever admit. Even to himself. Her voice, as she continued, was controlled and measured. "As if your word ever meant anything, if the Project demanded something different. Do you ever wonder what Fox might've been? If it weren't for Samantha. If it weren't for all the manipulations ... all the lies and half truths. If it weren't for ..."

"The number of "ifs" in life is infinite. Were it not for my involvement, he would be a much more central figure in the current operation. I fulfilled my promise to the extent possible. I truly regret I could do no more."

She was ignoring her tears, so he did as well. The strength in her voice as she continued reminded him of why he loved her. And of why he hadn't spoken of those feelings to her for so long. This woman might well have been able to win the battle Bill Mulder had conceded. "Who have you placed at the epicenter?" she demanded. Cigarette Smoking Man had not even had a moment to consider his response, when she continued, "Don't deny responsibility. Whoever gave the order did so at your recommendation, and has undoubtedly selected you to run it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here. The risk would be to great."

She merely smiled knowingly at his hesitant response. "I wouldn't put you in danger."

"Of course not," was the sarcastic reply. "Unless your activities demanded it. Don't insult me by suggesting otherwise."

Cigarette Smoking Man considered how to proceed. It seemed both safest and most productive to return to her original question regarding Mulder's replacement as the centerpiece of the current operation. "His partner will be a focal point."

"You place Dana Scully in the middle of all of this and assert that Fox will not be right there with her. With a straight face, you assert it. What an amazing performance."

He grabbed her arm as she moved to stride past him. Responding instinctively to her scathing "unhand me" look, he released her but blocked her path. "Agent Scully will have other assistance. More appropriate assistance for the activities to be undertaken."

"So we arrive at the crux of the matter. Fox won't be satisfied to stand aside and let Scully rely on your definition of "more appropriate assistance." What is it that you want from me? You know any influence I may have had over him is gone."

Cigarette Smoking Man took a deep breath. They had not arrived at this juncture in the manner he had planned, but arrive they had. Retreat was not an option, if it ever had been.

Dana Scully was having trouble keeping the conversations straight. She and Alex Krycek were on the couch in each other's arms, hopefully looking to any observers like two people who had just taken a shower together. Audibly, they were having a conversation about casual things. Their likes and dislikes. The wine they were drinking. Scully's childhood. The other conversation, the one spoken virtually directly into the ear of the other party which was presumably a simple continuation of the more audible discussion, was quite different. They were talking about the upcoming meeting, and possible ways to handle it. Their lack of information concerning the agenda precluded a structured analysis. Tiring of the exercise, Krycek presented a highly implausible and amusing scenario in the same conspiratorial manner. Dana Scully was giggling as he concluded.

"Laughing at me, are you? I'll give you something to laugh about. Are you ticklish Dana?"

Scully was ticklish. Very ticklish. The thought of herself pinned and helplessly laughing as Krycek tickled her was ... alarming.

Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Alex backed off. "Ok. No tickling."

"I ..." Dana Scully felt tongue-tied and ... nervous. She didn't like it. Marita Covarrubias' "What would Mulder think?" query was running through her head. Over and over.

"Dana?" She could hear the concern in his voice. The recognition that she "heard" it led Scully to the realization that she had closed her eyes. Reverting to the childhood solution that a problem (such as a monster) isn't there, if you can't see it. Accepting her adulthood, she opened her blue eyes and found herself staring into green ones. Alex Krycek had green eyes. Mulder's eyes were hazel. "Oh God. Mulder."

"What about Mulder?" As Alex's words registered, she realized she must've spoken her partner's name aloud. Either that or Krycek was psychic. The thought of Alex Krycek reading her mind was downright frightening. Gibson was bad enough. Dana didn't want to think of where the progression from alarming to frightening went next.

"C'mon Dana. Snap out of it. You're making me nervous." Scully forced herself to look at Krycek. He did look a little nervous and oddly vulnerable. She smiled hesitantly. "What about Mulder?" he repeated.

Scully sighed and considered her options for responding. "What would Mulder say?" was her selection. "Wasn't that Marita's parting question to me?"

"Marita's somewhat melodramatic effort to goad you? Forget it."

Dana heard the reassurance in his voice, but her disquiet remained. It wasn't Marita Covarrubias that troubled her. It was Fox Mulder. She was concerned about the impact of her actions on Mulder. He deserved that much, after all they had been through together. When she spoke again, her tone reflected her earnestness. "What would my partner, who trusts no one but me, say if he knew that I was here with you and ..." Finding words inadequate to express herself, Scully simply adjusted her position and touched her lips to his gently. "What would he say Alex?"

"Other than you're out of your mind?"

Scully laughed and relaxed slightly. "Other than that."

"I don't know. I don't want to guess." Krycek looked at the woman in his arms. Surprised by her action and not wanting to consider possible implications, he had resorted to humor. However, her attention had only been deflected for a moment. Now she was looking up at him expectantly. One problem. Potentially a big one. He had no idea what she expected and no inspiration as to something to say. So he remained silent.

Dana considered tabling the Mulder issue for another day. Procrastination in this regard had become her habit. Maybe it was time to resolve the matter. Then again, maybe not. Uncertain as to her course of action, Scully glanced at her companion. Krycek's demeanor suggested that she had surprised him again. That made her smile, which appeared to add to the confusion he was trying not to show. Perversely deciding to push her advantage, Dana snuggled closer.

Reluctantly returning to the topic of Mulder, Dana accepted that Mulder was ... well, Mulder, with all the attendant pluses and minuses. On the plus side, he was brilliant, insightful and dedicated to his quest for the truth. Conversely, he was self-centered, opinionated, overbearing and a million other irritating things. Mulder was also extremely dependent on her in a number of respects. She grudgingly put that trait in the minus column, even though part of her liked it. It was that dependence that she feared now. That and the related, and in her mind positive, character trait, vulnerability. Dana believed that Mulder would feel betrayed by any action on her part that appeared to him to be untrustworthy or disloyal.

Mulder, as an investigator of Xfiles, accepted many million shades of gray. Mulder, as a person, tended to think in terms of black and white. Scully was white. Krycek was black. Mixing black and white might make gray for some people. Dana feared it made black to Mulder's eyes. Given his dependence, Scully knew that her reclassification would be a huge emotional issue. She shuddered as she considered how Mulder dealt with emotional issues in his dreams.

Yet Dana smiled as the man she found herself holding so tightly, who had deeply hurt Mulder even if Mulder wouldn't admit it, responded to her involuntary movement by whispering to her in Russian. Listening to words that she didn't understand, Dana achieved clarity. She was worried about Mulder. That was normal .... for them. Scully constantly worried about Mulder's state of mind and his physical well being. She was also deeply concerned about what he thought of her. She craved his approval and his trust. Somehow those things ... verified her worth as a person. She had begun to depend on him as well.

Mutual trust and respect was one thing. Co-dependence was another. While accepting that co-dependence was perhaps an inevitable result of the high level of stress under which she and Mulder operated, Scully knew she had to break the cycle. For her sake and for Mulder's. She needed to re-establish her identity as a separate and complete person. As she considered her present situation, certain things became clear. This isn't about Mulder. It's about Dana Katherine Scully. Her quest for the truth. Her enemies and her allies. Her choices. Maybe it was perspective. Maybe it was rationalization. Maybe it was something else. With the motivation question unresolved, she spoke. "If you don't want to guess, what do you want?"

Krycek had been speculating about what Scully was thinking. When she spoke, the nature of those speculations altered. Drastically. Her question was unexpected, and her tone and the expression on her face as she awaited his response were ... inviting. Retaining his composure though sheer force of will, he whispered, "To know what old enemies become." She answered with a kiss that was as far from platonic as he could imagine, and Alex Krycek had an excellent imagination.

Walter Skinner was tired. He was also annoyed. It seemed as though all of the investigations being run out of his office were stalling. Of particular concern was one of the two that Mulder was working on. Marita Covarrubias had disappeared from his apartment without a trace. Although he had heard nothing, Skinner knew that there were some in the Bureau that wouldn't hesitate to speculate about his involvement in her activities. Whatever the activities of a Mulder informant were. That he didn't need. He also didn't need surreal meetings with mysterious strangers. Unfortunately, the list of things Skinner didn't need, but was likely to get, seemed to be growing.

Because of his fatigue and ill temper, his alertness was not what it should have been. Thus, he didn't immediately notice the person seated on his couch. He did smell the cigarette smoke, however. "What do you want?"

"There's no need for hostility, Mr. Skinner. I've brought an ash tray with me. Your furniture shall remain pristine."

For the first time in a long while in the presence of Cigarette Smoking Man, Skinner felt like laughing. "Does Cancerman have a sense of humor?" he wondered.

Cigarette Smoking Man smiled slightly at the look on Skinner's face. Those very few that knew him could attest that he had a sharply honed wit. Too sharply honed for most. "Mr. Skinner, I've come to request a boon. A favor. And I have not come empty handed."

"Let's hear it."

"I would like you to recall the agents working on the case involving the four unfortunate immunologists. Senator Sidel is in agreement."

"You can verify the Senator's agreement in what manner?"

"You'll find the relevant paperwork in your office in the morning."

Skinner sighed. He really wasn't in the mood for this. Especially when Cigarette Smoking Man's actions made little sense to him. "Then why come here. It isn't really a Bureau matter. If the Senator hadn't inquired, there would've been no investigation."

"I'm aware of that Mr. Skinner, but feared that you might like to continue your experiment with the Mulder/Spender/Fowley investigative team." Cigarette Smoking Man noted that Skinner showed no surprise concerning his knowledge. That pleased Cigarette Smoking Man. He knew Skinner had it in him to play the game at a higher level. It remained only to draw him in. "Some interesting team building exercises are afoot, so I understand," Cigarette Smoking Man commented. Skinner merely raised an eyebrow. "I'd inquire, if I were you. Such things can be bad for morale."

"If Senator Sidel is no longer interested, and my agents give me no reason to keep the case file open, it will be closed. Now. Surely your quid pro quo isn't that bit of ... gossip."

"I wouldn't dare to insult you in such a fashion Mr. Skinner. My information is much more ... relevant than the tidbit I shared with you as a matter of professional courtesy. I merely wish to inform you that Marita Covarrubias will not turn up dead under any circumstances that will implicate you." Cigarette Smoking Man didn't miss Skinner's reaction to his information. His relief was understandable, given the FBI's recent propensity for hearings and inquiries. "She is quite healthy actually, and serving a useful purpose. I fully understand that closure of that particular case file is out of your hands, Mr. Skinner. I just thought you'd like to know."

"Is that all?"

"Almost," Cigarette Smoking Man stated as he rose and began to move toward the door. "Just a bit of advice. Don't let the past make you blind to the future."

"Speaking in riddles is uninteresting."

"Only to those with closed minds."

Skinner sighed and put his hand to his head as the door closed behind Cigarette Smoking Man. Cigarette smoke always gave him a headache.

The men, known only as David and Russell, were seated in a dimly lit, but well appointed, room. Littered on the table before them were the remnants of a Chinese take out dinner. It had been served on fine china, accompanied by an excellent champagne. The two men looked at each other worriedly. "Can he be trusted?" David asked.

"As far as what we ask him to do is not inconsistent with his goals." Russell stated his position, knowing full well the question it begged.

David, smiling slightly, played the straight man. "What are his goals?"

Russell shrugged. "We must answer that question. Soon. We cannot proceed much further without that knowledge."

"I presume you have something in mind."

"Certainly, David. I plan to ask him."