Towel II: Sweet Surrender

Holy fucking shit. What the hell was that?

I lean back against the brick wall of Mulder's building and slam my head against it repeatedly. I just sucked off Fox Mulder and begged him to fuck me. And he did. And damn it was good. Then he went into the bedroom and I froze. I got scared. This is so much different from what I'd expected. I showed up, gun in hand, ready to have Mulder come at me, and ready to let him win. I always let him win, but this time, it was gonna be for keeps.

But this...I could have wept. I think I did, actually. I brush away the moisture from my lashes with the back of my hand, cursing my one weakness in this life.

And I didn't even get to tell him what I came to tell him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! It's really important! I mean, of course it is or I wouldn't have risked coming here. No one's even supposed to know I'm alive. Except Spender, of course. I told that yellowed old prick myself. And I let him know who was holding all the cards.

I thought it was me.

I sigh and scowl and beat my head against the wall some more, nails digging crescents into my palms.

See, I'm getting kind of desperate. Not just for a good fuck, either. I'm running out of dark alleys to hide in, chips to call in, stashes to raid. I came here to propose something completely fucking insane.

Partnership.

Yes, I killed Mulder's father. Yes, I was there when Cardinale killed Scully's sister. And yes, of course I helped stall Mulder when Duane Barry took Scully.

I'll admit it. I'm a fucking rat. But I've got something Mulder wants. Needs. And if he gives me the chance, I'd like to be *his* rat.

God, if he'll only let me back in, I'll do anything for him. Anything. Any fucking thing he wants. Kill anybody, steal anything, give him everything I have.

It's not just because I want him so bad my teeth ache. It's because he's the only one I've found that might just have a chance in hell of beating them. I've been looking.

That's what I've spent the last year doing, after they tried to blow me up. Sniffing around all the dark places, trying to ferret out the players, trying to find someone to align myself with, pledge myself to. Sure, I'm a leader, but a good Sergeant knows the value of the right General.

Despite his ignorance of the situation, Mulder's it, I think. The others get distracted by money or power or greed, but Mulder never, ever gets distracted. I'm not sure death could stop him.

That's the team I wanna play on from now on.

Okay, so now what? I suppose that what happened up there could be my way in, really. I mean, I'm here to subjugate myself to him. To offer my services, whatever he requires. I just really never let myself hope that blow jobs and up- against-the-wall fucks would be among those.

What the hell am I doing down here? I smooth the hair down over the back of my head, wincing slightly at the self-inflicted bruising. Like I don't get beat up enough. Sometimes I can be so stupid.

He fucking called me his pet! Just thinking about it makes me shiver. I'll curl up at his feet and grovel for the rest of my life just to hear him call me that again. It makes me weak. It makes me tremble. It makes me his.

Well, Mulder, I hope you want a pet rat. You're my last chance.

I smooth down my jacket, brushing my fingers through my hair, wanting to look good for him. I release a shuddering sigh, remembering how he said I was beautiful.

No one's ever called me beautiful before. Sexy, yeah, and cute, and hot, and fine and...well, you get the idea. I'm not unaware that I'm physically attractive. But there's something about the word 'beautiful' that reaches further...strokes me deep inside, making me want to arch and purr like a cat. I want so badly to be beautiful for him, to do whatever will make him think that of me...say it again.

God, just the thought of hearing it again makes me want to throw myself before him, giving him anything, everything, just to be petted like that.

So. How to do this? He's still awake. I can see the lights on up there. He's probably wondering what the hell I showed up there for in the first place. Hell, he might even be waiting for me! The thought makes my heart pound painfully in my throat, threatening to cut off my breath.

I duck into his doorway and ride the elevator back up to his floor, grateful for the late hour. I hadn't expected to find Mulder awake at two o'clock in the morning, but I guess he was taking a shower to try and relax. I know he doesn't sleep well. Maybe if he had a guard dog curled up on the floor next to his bed, he'd feel safe enough to rest.

I silently approach his door, wondering if he locked it behind me. I'd left it unlocked after picking it. I don't want to startle him, or piss him off. I don't think, after tonight, that he really wants to kill me, but I know Mulder isn't someone you push.

It's time to face the truth, whatever that's gonna be.

I raise my hand to knock, stop, make a fist, then bring my shaking knuckles against the wood with two short raps. I hear slight movement from inside and forget how to breathe.

The door swings open and I glance up at him from under my lashes, because I know he finds that attractive. The look on his face is wary but pleased. He steps back, silently bading me to enter, and I duck my head and step past him, letting out my breath. I turn around to face him as he closes the door, and I drop to my knees, head bowed, hands behind my back.

I hear him gasp. Pleasure? Surprise? Then I listen to him breathe as I watch my own chest rise and fall. Then I stop breathing again as I hear him walk toward me and I see his bare feet come into view, peeking out from under the hems of his Levi's. I can smell him now, and I swoon with it. Cotton and cum and fresh, clean Mulder. Then his hand comes down heavy and hot on my head, and I gasp, sagging forward bonelessly.

"What are you doing?" His voice is soft and curious.

"You're right," I rumble, clearing my throat. "I do just want to be someone's bitch. Yours, Mulder." I dare to lean my head forward slightly, rubbing it against his leg with a sigh.

"I...I don't understand, Krycek. What are you saying?" He's confused, but his hand doesn't leave my head, and I'm so grateful for that I could kiss his feet. If I thought he wanted me to, I would, but I think it would freak him out.

"Mulder," I begin, leaning back, still looking at the floor. "I came here earlier tonight to...offer myself to you."

"You came here to be my sex slave?" he asks incredulously.

I smile. "No, actually, that was just a damned fine bonus." I swallow, hoping he won't be displeased with my attitude.

"Then what do you mean?" He's getting a little impatient, and I nearly sob as his hand raises up away from my head, leaving it cold.

"I came here to see if you'd have me, Mulder. I can help you. I can give you things. I can do things for you that you can't or won't do. I'll be anything you want me to be. And I'll give you everything I have."

His breath leaves him in a rush, and he steps back. I nearly fall to the floor on my face and beg him to stay.

"Why...why should I trust you?" he asks, his voice strained.

"I'll give you the tape. It's the only thing keeping me alive, Mulder. When they find out I gave it to you, they won't stop until I'm dead. But I'm tired, Mulder. And I can't fight this fight alone. So my life is yours." I reach into my waistband and pull out my gun, keeping it low and sliding it forward across the floor to his feet. I see his beautiful hands for a moment when he bends to pick it up.

"Get up."

I look up and he's gesturing with the gun for me to stand. I quickly rise to my feet, head down, hands still behind my back.

"Why...why now?" The skepticism is hard in his voice and I know it will take everything I have to break through it.

"They tried to kill me," I start.

"Look at me." His voice is low and soft.

I look up, and my stomach flips as I am absorbed in the power of those eyes, so full of pain and distrust, but wanting so much to believe. The gun is held loosely at his side.

"They...they tried to kill me," I start again. "Car bomb. I barely got away, but when I did, I had this with me." I slowly bring one hand around in front of me and unzip my jacket, then reach into my inside front pocket and extract the small plastic box. I extend it to him, holding it on the palm of my hand, arm shaking. It's my life. My only chance of survival. And I'm handing it over. If he takes it and then turns his back on me, I hope he kills me. I'd rather him than them.

My hand shakes visibly as he just stares at the tape, his eyes narrowed. Then he looks back up at me, in stunned confusion.

"Is that what I think it is?" My heart flips at how much careful hope I can hear in his voice.

"It's the DAT." I smile then, proud to have brought it back to him. Proud to be the one to make his eyes light up like that. My hand isn't shaking quite so badly now.

He finally looks back down at my palm and reaches forward, and now it's his hands that are shaking as he removes the tape, holding it delicately in his long, strong fingers. I lower my hand and place it back behind my back. He raises the tape in front of his face and his eyes gleam as he turns it this way and that in wonder. He blinks and lowers the tape, then his brow furrows as he looks back at me.

"I..I have no idea what to say to this."

"Don't say anything, Mulder," I reply, my voice low and quiet. "Just take what I'm giving you."

"Um, why don't you sit down," he says uncomfortably, lifting his chin toward the couch. I nod and go over to the couch, sinking down into it, body tense. He follows me and lays the tape on the table, then sits down at the other end of the couch, rubbing his palms together nervously.

"All this because I called you 'pet'?" he says, trying to keep it light. And I want to tell him yes, so that he'll do it again.

"No," I say with a slight smile. Then my face goes serious as I take a deep breath and let it out. "All this because I play on the winning side, Mulder. And with this, you have what it takes to be that."

"But...without it, I don't, and you just gave it to me." He looks up at me sideways.

I sigh. "I know I've been a total shit," I say, changing the subject. "And I know 'I'm sorry' doesn't make any difference at all. All I can say, Mulder, is that I'm willing to do anything if you'll just give me one more chance."

He looks back down at his hands, palms pressed together between his thighs. Those fingers were inside me. For a minute that's all I can think of.

"How do I know that you won't find someone else you think is on a winning side, and leave me again?" He sounds so bitter and sad.

"I...I don't know, Mulder. I'll do anything," I say, growing anxious. "Just tell me...what can I do to prove myself?" I'm ready to do anything, kill the president, kidnap the 'emir, whatever he wants.

He sighs deeply and the sound pains me. "I don't know, Krycek," he says defeatedly. "I don't know if I can ever have faith in you again." He stares at his hands and I see the sparkle of what might be tears. My heart squeezes painfully and I choke. I stand quickly and step around the coffee table.

"I'm going to go." I stop, waiting, thinking that maybe he'll ask me to stay. He doesn't. He does look up at me, brows drawn, eyes full of helpless pain. It hurts me to look, so I turn away. "I'll be in touch."

"But..."

"Keep it. I told you. It's yours." Maybe if I give him my life, he'll find a way to accept what I'm offering. "Good-bye, Mulder." I open the door and step out, closing it silently behind me.

I left without my gun, and more importantly, without my tape. I feel like a rabbit on opening day of hunting season. I start walking, mentally reviewing the best bridges in town to sleep under. I flip my jacket collar up against the cold.