So I Wait

Should have known I'd still be here an hour after the agreed upon time. I mean, what is it with people? You leave them a note, give them a specific time and location; and they still can't be there on time.

So I wait.

It seems like half my life has been spent standing in cold doorways and deserted buildings. Why couldn't I have picked a warmer, more friendly climate for this? No, I have to be shivering in some abandoned warehouse freezing my ass off in the middle of Washington, D.C. But it's worth it.

After six long months I've finally found my 'ace in the hole.' Someone I could feed information to and make those bastards hurt.

They still haven't figured it out yet. I laugh out loud at the craziness of it all. Sitting to the side of the room at every meeting; watching them watch each other. What a joke. They're all so paranoid that they've long since given up any edge they might have had in these matters. Yeah, it was time for them to step aside; in a big way.

So I wait.

Six months. Seemed like a long time, but not in the grand scheme of things. Besides, I'd been getting some weird vibes last year. Nothing I could put my finger on, but something just the same. I felt compelled to cover myself. Like just before you move out of the safety of darkness and into the light. There was always that split second when you felt vulnerable. When you knew that if someone wanted to take you out, they could. This felt a lot like that. And I wanted to be on the taking end this time; for once.

So I wait.

You could call me a traitor to the cause; a rebel. Shit, you can call me whatever you want as long as it isn't 'dead.' Their 'cause' stopped being my cause a while ago. When they started bringing those little kids into it.

Now I've killed people in my time. Call it self defense, self preservation, whatever. But I have *never* killed anyone that didn't deserve it, and I would never even consider taking off a kid. What they're doing now, I can't even fathom. Breeding kids for nothing more than experimentation purposes. Filling them full of that half-human, half-hybrid green ooze. Reminds me of that black shit running out of me. Using them like little lab rats to see how they react to this stimuli or that stimuli. Fuck. Even animals don't do that.

So I wait.

I know this is dangerous. I know that at anytime one of the many enemies I've cultivated within the organization could find out what I'm doing. But in a way, I don't care anymore. I have someone now. Someone who will know the truth and continue to pursue it whether I'm there or not. Am I crazy to trust after all this time? Maybe. But then again, I'd be crazy not to. It's come down to a choice between the lesser of two evils for me; as I knew it eventually would.

What is they say? Something worth having is worth working for; or some such shit like that. So this has got to be *well* worth having after all I've gone through. We didn't even actually speak to one another until a month ago. Before that it was notes and emails. Small tidbits of information left to prove my sincerity. I felt like I was a dog jumping through hoops looking for the treat at the end. And I still haven't gotten it yet.

I think the first meeting was the actual breakthrough because I didn't initiate it. I was nervous. The thought slipped through my mind that I might be dismissed completely and left to drift on my own. I could do that if need be; but I didn't want to. I wanted to stop; and rest. The eyes are the window to the soul, and in those eyes that night I saw acceptance. Not complete trust; but acceptance. It was a start.

So I wait.

The glare of headlights forces me back into the shadows. My gun is at the ready concealed neatly behind my thigh. I watch as the driver's side door opens, scanning back along the lot looking for signs that we are not alone. My senses tell me that all is as it should be.

The crunch of feet on gravel and then the squeal of hinges as the door opens. I remain in the dark; watching just a while longer. If I am to go down I don't want it to be because of some impulsive gesture on my part.

"Krycek?" My name is whispered into the blackness.

I step out, keeping my gun at my side. I see my contact does the same. Neither of us is sure of the other, regardless of what has been exchanged.

"I'm going to put this away." I ease my hand back into my jacket at a snails pace. I did this at our first meeting as well. I realize that I'm low man on the totem pole of forgive and forget and so I allow myself to be held at gunpoint. I remove the envelope from my pocket and hand it over. It's a lot thicker this time. More names, places, dates, etc. My contact holsters the Sig as she accepts the papers.

"Come on."

We make our way out to her car and pull away, headlights out in case we are being watched. This too has become part of the meeting ritual. The silent drive to another deserted parking lot. Just in case. She puts the car in 'park' and opens the envelope, quickly scanning the pages.

I watch her. It seems in the past few weeks that I have come to look forward to our times together. I fantasize between meetings. I think of what it would be like to be with this woman. To feel her body arch against me as I enter her. To bury my head between the valley of her breasts and inhale deeply. As if becoming one with her would make me whole again. Jesus, when did I get so poetic?

A strand of hair drops as she leans closer to the papers. I want to reach out and push it back for her. I want to move across the seat and bury my hands in her hair. I want to feel what its like to be wanted by someone so far above the twisted refuse that I've become. Fuck it. I turn toward her, she sees me out of the corner of her eye and flinches as my hand moves towards her.

"What are you doing?" It comes out sounding more like an accusation than a question. Her hand is wrapped around my wrist, holding it in mid-air.

"Your hair ..."

She stares at me, her eyes boring into mine. I know part of her accepts me because she feels the need to pursue something of her own. The need to remove herself from Mulder's shadow and show him that she is every bit as capable as he is.

But the other part, I don't know. The other part longs for the same things that I do. The 'belonging.' That feeling of knowing that you're not alone. That maybe someone thinks of you often and looks forward to being with you. She lets go of my wrist and I push the loose strands back from her face.

She inches back letting me know that the moment is over. "You better go."

I turn and reach for the door handle, hoping my impulsiveness hasn't cost me any ground.

"Same time next week?" I turn to her, catching the hopeful sound of her voice in my ears.

"Yeah," I say, trying to keep my voice as level as it can be while I'm psychologically sucking wind. "Let's do the warehouse on 14th next time."

She nods and puts the car in drive.

"And Scully"

"Yeah"

"Try to be on time next week." I close the door before she has an opportunity to shoot me some sarcastic remark. She pulls away and I watch the car until it disappears around the corner.

Yeah, we're not there yet, but I can always hope. There's always next week.

So I wait.