Under My Skin

"Until next time, Mulder."

Mulder raised his head as Scully walked in the office. And blinked.

She appeared to be wearing a red suit with a pink blouse underneath, and a silver heart necklace. She was also carrying several packages she was trying to juggle along with her briefcase.

Mulder blinked again, not sure if he had fallen asleep at the desk or if it had something to do with the five shots of tequila he'd taken last night.

"Uh...Scully?"

"Yes, Mulder?" Scully asked as she quickly set down her briefcase and systematically began handing out the mail. All five packages landed on his desk. This must be a dream. Since when did he get five things in the mail in a day? Unless it was National Salute Your Favorite Crazy FBI Agent Day.

"Umm...you uh, you look festive today."

"That's right Mulder, I do."

Mulder crinkled his brow and leaned back in his chair. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Scully finally looked up from her mail, balancing one hip on her desk.

"Mulder, do you know what day it is?" Her eyebrow shot up.

"February fourteenth," he replied promptly. Then groaned. Scully smiled at him, turning back to her mail.

"But, I've never seen you get into the spirit of it before."

She set the mail down and looked him straight on. "Well, now you have." She walked towards the door as he called out, "Scully, you're keeping something from me!"

"And so are you, Mulder," was her reply, throwing him a look over her shoulder as she left the office.

He sat back in his chair again, not even remembering half-standing. He wasn't keeping anything from her! His life was as dull as always. Not a thing she didn't know.

He tilted his head and sighed. Except for that. New Year's Eve. And Christmas. But Krycek had given him information. How could she think it was anything but what he'd said? The information had even led them to another cloning lab. This time, Mulder decided not to fuck it up by letting Consortium people find out he knew about it and having them disappear. He and Scully were continuing to trace other leads through it, hoping to get enough evidence to expose it. Maybe she thought it was too convenient?

Mulder sighed once again and grabbed his first package. Photos that were obviously doctored and some man spouting about seeing strange little men in the middle of the city. Yeah, right. Probably liquor- induced Oompa Loompas.

The second package contained his tax forms. Oh, joy.

Picking up the third, he paused. It felt soft. Opening it, he was surprised when something red with white hearts on it pooled onto his desk. Mulder leaned forward and stared. Boxers. He tilted the package up further and liquid red and gold spilled out. A pair of boxers and a man's smoking jacket. A touch declared them real satin. Holy shit.

"Mulder, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost." Scully's voice pierced through his shock. He looked up and saw she was carrying two cups of coffee.

"Shut the door, Scully," he rasped.

She did, giving him a funny glance. As she walked over proffering the cup she noticed the fabric on the desk.

The eyebrow shot up for the first time of the morning. "Mulder, got a secret admirer?"

"More like a torturer." He knew exactly where it came from too. No doubt about it. After a month in a half of no contact, he had the audacity to send Mulder underwear at work? Mulder felt his pulse quicken.

"I never knew you were partial to satin, Mulder. And I've always thought blue was more your color."

He glared at her. She set her coffee down and smirked at him while picking up the jacket. It was solid red, except the quilted gold collar. Its breast pocket has his monogram on it too. Fuck. Mind games. What the hell was Krycek pulling?

"I like it, Mulder. Whoever she is, she has good taste."

Mulder groaned inwardly. If only Scully knew.

"Well? Are you going to open the rest?"

He glanced at her, then to the packages. Sure enough, the other two were wrapped in the same style as the clothing. Mulder shook his head, groaning out loud this time. He couldn't believe the little shit. At work. Oh, he was a dead man. If Mulder ever got his hands on him again...

You'll grab him and kiss him silly, whispered a voice in his head.

NO!

"Mulder! Well, come on."

Growling, more at himself than Scully, he glared at her as he grabbed another package. This one was soft too. He ripped it open and out popped a teddy bear. It was white with pink and red hearts imprinted in its fur. A red heart nose. It wore a matching smoking jacket to his own with an 'A' embroidered on the breast pocket, one paw holding a box of stuffed chocolates, the other holding a bouquet of fabric roses.

All of this assimilated in the matter of seconds before Mulder dropped it like a hot potato and jumped out of his chair with a yelp.

"Mulder, what is with you today?" Scully eyed him incredulously as she reached for the bear and dusted it off, placing it on Mulder's desk. She picked up a sheet of paper that had fallen out of the wrapping.

"Oh, Mulder! How cute!! This is one of those Build-A-Bears!"

"What?" he asked, having caught his breath.

"A Build-A-Bear. The person goes to the bear factory and chooses the bear, stuffs it personally, and can pick out clothes and accessories for it. Though, I'd say whoever did this for you, Mulder, really went out of their way. I doubt they'd have a matching jacket to yours there." She read over the sheet of paper. "It's the bear's gift certificate. His name is Alex, Mulder."

Mulder's breathing shortened again as his pulse continued to race. Dead. Deader than dead.

"So, Mulder, you going to tell me who it is? Your secret admirer?"

Trying to calm down, he eased himself into his chair, watching the bear warily, afraid it might turn into a bomb. Actually, he'd be happy if it did. Much more Krycek-like.

"I don't know, Scully," he lied, hoping it came out smoothly.

"Mulder, be serious. This person went through a lot of work. Surely you must know who it is. I highly doubt the alien race is trying to woo you with teddy bears."

He could have laughed. It was funny. But he was afraid if he opened his mouth he'd vomit.

Just then a knock sounded at their office door. Jumping up, Mulder thrust the bear into Scully's arms just as the door opened. Ignoring Scully's look of surprise, he turned towards the courier coming in. Then he saw the uniform. 1-800-FLOWERS. Oh, hell no...

"Is a Miss Dana Scully down here? I was told she was but I don't see a name on the door."

Mulder sighed in relief flopping into his chair. And watched as Scully replied, "Yes," before the man brought out a huge vase full of white and red roses.

"Just sign here, miss."

Scully blushed as she did, holding the teddy bear under her arm.

"Ma'am, I fancy that man likes you quite a bit. Ordered the best we had. Not that I blame him." The man offered a smile reminiscent of Sheriff Hartwell's, minus the buckteeth.

Scully turned crimson.

After the man left, Mulder was even more dumbfounded. First she was dressed to look like the day. Then he got crazy gifts. And now Scully got flowers? Since when did Dana Scully have an admirer? She wasn't one to send them to herself. He'd know a few girls in college like that, but unless he'd woken to a different universe this morning, that wasn't likely. Although, it might happen in a universe where Krycek gave teddy bears.

"So, Scully," he prompted, leaning forward towards her after removing the teddy bear from his view which she'd set back on his desk.

Scully was busy arranging the flowers in their vase as she set them on the projector Mulder hadn't returned yet. Then she took out the card and scanned it quickly, getting a sappy smile on her face.

"Scully!" Mulder's gut was twisting. It wasn't fair that she should get roses while he got weird teddy bears from a killer. "Who's it from? "

She looked up haughtily. "You have your secret and I have mine as well, Mulder. When the time is appropriate, I'll let you know."

What was that? Scully never held out on him. Unless it had to do with how she was feeling physically.

He leaned his head over the back of his chair, running his hands through his hair and over his face. What a morning. His gaze wandered towards the bear and third package. No way was he opening it in front of Scully. Who knew what it would hold? A Japanese sling shot? He shuddered.

He had to admit though, the teddy bear was cute. If he didn't think about who it was from. Which was hard to do considering its name. Mulder picked up the "birth certificate" and read it. Belongs to Fox Mulder, born February fifth, created with love from 'Me'. Great. He'd obviously had the plan in mind at least two weeks. Damn. Mulder could rule out impulse or torture by the Consortium then.

"You going to open that last package, Mulder? Or do you know what it is already?"

Scully had stopped fiddling with her flowers and was already in the throes of a report due to Skinner today.

"Uh, not right now, Scully." He shifted in his chair awkwardly. "I uh, need to start reading through the newest file I started. Did you know there was a sighting of the Loch Ness monster in Lake Okoboji? Maybe it's really from outer space. Perhaps that's why it moves from lake to lake."

"Uh-huh, sure, Mulder." Scully rolled her eyes once before settling back in.

Lunchtime finally arrived and Mulder thanked the stars that Scully was going out with her mother today. He hadn't gotten much work done all morning worrying about that third package. And he had to stop listening to Scully's happy sighs that floated through the air each time she glanced over at the roses-which was often. Just an hour's reprieve was all he needed.

He vaguely waved after Scully as she left, eyes unfocused. First order of business. Mulder stood up and set the roses on the floor next to Scully's desk, which was too littered with papers, mainly his, for him to want to bother with it. He almost didn't read the card, after all it was private. Almost. He opened it.

Dana-
I know it hasn't been long. And I know I haven't been able to devote a lot of time with you yet. I only hope these roses will hold you over until tonight. But I want you to know, no rose is as beautiful as you are. Your hair is more stunning than the reddest rose, your skin fairer than any white rose. Until tonight...
-Your Admirer

Oh, please. Mulder tried not to gag. Who was this schmuck? Setting it back in its plastic holder he shuffled the roses attempting to make them look as though they hadn't been disturbed. Then he took the projector upstairs and returned it.

Coming back, he sat down. He forced his now-shaking hands to unwrap the final package. This one was a box about the size of a small dinner plate. He carefully lifted its lid, blanched, and replaced it. Oh shit. No, fuck. Calming his breathing down-when had his breath started coming faster?-he slid the box closer to him and lifted the lid again. Yep, still the same. He wasn't hallucinating.

Inside the box filled with crisp red tissue paper, lay a pair of cuffs. Lined with red fur. A third cuff larger than the other two was connected, obviously meant for a bedpost.

He was going to kill the man. Everything else he'd done? Small beans in comparison. He thought Mulder would let that rat cuff him? To a fucking bed? Those cuffs weren't going anywhere near his wrists, much less under Krycek's control. Fuck, no.

Mulder felt his suppressed anger rising, gorge along with it. He didn't care what had happened on New Year's. That he still had that bottle of pertsovka sitting in his cupboard, unable to drink it without Krycek. That every night the enticing scent of damned Dior filled his dreams. No, all he cared was that two times meeting Krycek, he hadn't exacted his revenge. The man had it coming to him. Mulder might be delayed but he was never distracted from a goal. In a flash of fury, he picked up the phone, dialing, at the same time grabbing his sunflower seeds from his desk drawer and delighting in the crunching noise they made between gnashing teeth. He rested his feet on the desk.

"Gunmen."

"Get me a phone number for Alex Krycek. As soon as possible. I don't care how you do it. I don't care if the Smoking Man knows I am calling Krycek. Just get it somehow." Mulder's voice was forced, anger bubbling through.

Langley responded, seeming a little taken back at Mulder's tone with, " Sure thing, Mulder. It might take awhile, but we'll call the minute we get it."

"Thanks," he said. And before the man could ask why Mulder was so desperate to get a wanted felon's number, he hung up.

Five minutes later his phone rang.

"Mulder," he said grouchily, spitting a seed into his waste basket.

"If I'd know you wanted me so bad, Mulder, I would have called sooner."

Mulder snapped his feet off the desk and leaned his elbows on his knees, seething. "You little shit, do you know what I've had to deal with today? And it's only noon!"

In a dulcet tone, the man replied, "Aw. I guess sex is out of the question tonight, honey?"

Laughter was the last thing he heard above his own spluttering as he threw the cellphone at the wall.

Another ten minutes passed before the phone rang again.

"Mulder."

"We got a number, Mulder. Don't know if its real or fake though. But it's the best we can do."

Mulder sighed, "Thanks guys."

"Mulder," came Byers' calm voice over the line, "why do you need this so bad? Is Scully ok? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah I am. Thanks for the concern fellas. But this is just about getting even. That bastard owes me and I think I have something on him."

"Ok, Mulder. It's got weird call numbers. But here it is: 365-3610-1336."

"Happy Valentine's Day, dude," came Langley's voice.

"Tell the delicious Agent Scully to have a Happy Valentine's Day, too. From me."

"Frohike," came Byers sigh.

Mulder couldn't help smiling. "Sure thing, guys. And thanks again." He almost hung up the phone when he thought of something. "Hey, you guys want to get together later, eat some pizza, play some good old ping-pong on the computer?"

"Uh, thanks for the offer, Mulder. But we already have plans."

"Yeah, we're gonna go meet some hot chicks," Frohike boasted.

"Nah," said Langley. "We've got a meeting to go to. Did you know, Mulder, that the government is behind Hallmark creating this holiday? Next thing you know, Hallmark will abduct Christmas and Easter in the name of commercialism. What's next? A holiday called Hallmark Day, I say."

Mulder tried not to sound too disappointed as he said, "Oh, ok. Well, have fun guys."

"Bye, Mulder."

"See ya round, dude."

"Frohike, out."

Mulder hung up, head hanging. Gathering his thoughts, he dialed the number Byers had given him. It rang twice.

"Your friends are better than I thought."

Silence.

"You didn't really think I'd let a line be traced to me, did you, Mulder?"

"What do you mean, Krycek?"

"I just planted the number right after you called. I knew you'd want to yell at me some more."

"I see."

They stayed silent for another few moments before Krycek spoke again. " Well, Mulder, nice as it is to listen to your breathing, I'm afraid I have work to do. So yell now and get it over with or I'll see you when you get to your apartment."

"Fine."

"Ok...see you later, Mulder." The phone died.

Why hadn't he yelled at Krycek right then? Now he had to see him. Maybe he wouldn't go home. He'd find something to do tonight.

He looked up as Scully entered, smiling. Then she stopped.

"Mulder! Where'd the projector go?"

"I returned it," he said, trying not to sound sulky.

He knew he hadn't succeeded when she frowned and in a tight voice said, "Mulder. You can have all the secrets you want, huh? You can take away time from my life, but then not expect me to have anything in return? Is that fair? Only Scully can't have a date, a boyfriend? You're jealous? Is that it, Mulder? Well how do you think I feel? You ditched me New Year's like you always do, this time not letting me follow you and you expect me to not be upset? No, no Mulder. Shut up. I am not done.

"Mulder, I haven't wanted to bring it up point blank, but its been obvious you have been seeing someone since Christmas. I don't know when or how often considering I know you're here in the office late almost every night. But obviously this woman is much more tolerant of having no life than I am. Yes, Mulder. I met someone. And what do you care? It's not like you have a claim over me. I know you like to think so, but you don't. And someone else decided he wanted me. I'd think you'd be happy. But clearly, you only care for yourself."

With a last blazing stare, she flounced from the room, head held high.

What a day. Now Scully was mad at him. All he'd done was return the projector she'd been yelling at him to do for a week now. Jeez.

Scully returned half an hour later without saying anything. He didn't either. At the end of the day he walked over to her and took the report as a goodwill gesture. Despite having read the note, he thought he'd ask. Maybe now she'd tell him who the guy was.

"So, Scully. Want to do something tonight? Pizza, maybe Mars Attacks? I know how much you love that movie." He waggled his eyebrows. "I already asked the guys and they're busy."

Scully shot him a condescending look. "How nice of you, Mulder. I'm glad to know how I rate." She started packing up her briefcase. "But no, thank you, Mulder. I already have plans. And I would have assumed you did too based on your packages."

He blushed. Thank God she hadn't seen the third one. She'd really be giving him shit if she knew he'd received a pair of handcuffs as well.

"Well, uh, alright. Have fun tonight, Scully. And I, um..." He trailed off, not good with apologies.

She sighed and smiled at him. "I know, Mulder." She grabbed his hand with a quick squeeze and started for the door after grabbing her roses. "Do something fun tonight, Mulder. Don't sit and brood. And don't forget, get that report to Skinner." With another small smile she was gone.

Damn. He'd been hoping she'd blow off her date for him. Selfish? Maybe. But better than going home and finding Krycek there.

He marched himself up to Skinner's office.

"Hi, Kim."

"Hello, Agent Mulder. Go right on in. He's almost ready to leave for the day."

Mulder walked in. "Hello, sir."

Skinner turned, smiling jovial as he shoved papers in a briefcase, shirt sleeves rolled up. "Mulder! Good to see you."

Mulder was taken aback. Skinner? In a good mood? Was it just him or was he overly happy?

"Uh, yes, sir. Here's the report you wanted. Scully just finished it."

"Did she? Good."

Skinner sat down, leaning back in his chair, still smiling. Weird. "So, Agent Mulder. You have any plans for tonight?"

"Uh, no, sir." He thought. "Well, actually. Would you like to go somewhere and get a few drinks? I know a really good upper class Japanese restaurant."

The man suddenly looked down, exposing a rapidly-turning-red top of his head to Mulder.

"Actually, Mulder, I'm afraid I have other plans tonight."

He stood up quickly grabbing his briefcase and trench coat from its stand.

"Maybe another night, though. Good day to you, Mulder." With another grin he disappeared. Mulder eyed him leaving. What in the world? Since when did Skinner have dinner plans? First Scully, now his boss? He was beginning to feel angry. Why was Fate conspiring against him?

"Agent Mulder? I hate to ask, but I have plans in two hours and I need to get ready still."

He turned towards Kim's voice, nodded and left. He decided to walk past the bullpen. Surely one of the guys would be free. His heart beat faster as he walked.

He paused at Thompson and Fritze's desks. Johnson, Mickelson and Angie Smith were gathered around them. All of them were chatting and welcomed him warmly as he approached.

"Hey Spooky! How's it hanging?" asked Fritze.

Gritting his teeth and almost deciding facing Krycek would be better, he replied, "Not much, actually. I didn't have any plans. Any of you men, or lady," he nodded at Angie, "care to get a drink with me?"

He was greeted with a chorus of no, no thanks, and I've got plans. And a decided look passing between Thompson and Fritze. Whoa. He'd never noticed that before. Two kisses between him and Krycek and he developed gay radar like Spidey senses? Next thing he knew, he'd be prancing about in pink polo shirts and liking normal ties.

"Alright. Have fun everyone." Completely annoyed and starting to panic, Mulder left the pit. He had thought it was just Scully and Skinner out to get him but it appeared the entire world had suddenly been struck by Cupid's arrow when he wasn't looking. He almost wished the cherub hadn't missed him. He might not be so lonely.

Mulder felt like he was backed into a corner, a sense of foreboding at having to see Krycek. And yet a part of him felt relieved no one had been free. Now why was that? He pondered on the way down the elevator but cleared it from his head when the doors opened.

Fetching his things from his office, including the gifts, carefully re- wrapped of course, he realized he could either head to a bar on his own and have to deal with kissing couples everywhere, or he could go deal with the man that had started his day out wrong. Getting to his car he tossed the gifts in the back seat, ignoring the impulse to grab the bear and see if it smelled anything like the man who'd given it. It was decided. Krycek was going to answer for today.

Mulder let himself stew the entire car ride. He didn't like surprises and one coming from the cruel-hearted bastard he thought Krycek was...it threw him off his game. By the time he reached his door, he was seeing red. He moved to put his key in the lock when the door swung open. In a moment of clarity Mulder saw an attractive man standing there in a leather blazer layered over a red turtleneck sweater, with a warm smile on his face, green eyes sparkling and Mulder thought to himself he could come home to this everyday or as often as possible.

Then the veil of anger dropped again and he thought, how dare he? Opening up my door like it's his home. Smiling at me like he has a secret and God knows he does.

All of this took but a moment before Mulder allowed his hand to reach out and grasp Krycek's lapels, literally taking his breath away as he crushed his lips to the man's in a cruel imitation of a kiss. He felt the man try to melt into him and quickly pushed him away to turn around and lock the door. Turning back around he saw Krycek's reddish lips open and panting slightly, looking surprised.

"Mulder, I thought-"

Mulder took advantage of this, once again grabbing Krycek's lapels with his left hand and pulling the man in close. He raised his right fist and before Krycek could react, he pulled back and let it fly.

It hit with a pleasant thwack and Mulder found he had to hear it again. He continued to punch Krycek, moving forward, not clear where he was going. The other man did nothing to stop him, only turned his other cheek after a few good punches, trying to keep his footing under Mulder's barrage.

"You bastard! Do you know...what you've done? Embarrassed me...will be the laughingstock...why did you do it? Can't believe Scully saw...Why, Krycek? Why? You fucking bastard! Do you know...?"

Finally Krycek's back came up against something and after one more punch, Mulder stopped. His voice had faded into a whisper; shaking and not nearly as angry as he wanted it to be. Finally focusing, he looked at Krycek.

The man's face was bloodied and red with imprints of Mulder's knuckles, calmly staring at Mulder. Krycek turned his head and spat in the sink which had stopped him, and turned to face Mulder again, wiping his lip with his forefinger, smirk playing about his lips.

"Are you through?" he asked quietly, as he attempted to stem the blood leaking from his nose.

Letting his arms drop and trying not to throw up at his own disgusting display, Mulder nodded. He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times.

"Good." Krycek turned his back to Mulder and turned the faucet on rinsing the rest of the blood away, spitting a few more times. Turning back around he advanced on Mulder.

"Then hear this, Mulder." His voice had gone quiet as Death himself. "I am not going to allow you to beat me up again. I am sick of it. I get enough pain in my life. I don't need it for some petty reason, not from you. I wanted to try this and see what would happen. I can now see you've never gotten past your fifth grade antics towards me. So be it. I need a little maturity. You've never shown it beforehand, I don't know what made me think something had changed. I never asked for you to like me, Mulder. Just a little sex. But I can't handle you, not your obsession for the truth without regard for reason and certainly not your need to punch me. I understand your anger. But be constructive, take up a damn hobby." The man glared at him. "Expect, the next time you attempt to beat me up, I'll fight back, Mulder. I am through with your dominance. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. Goodbye, Mulder. "

He gave Mulder a shove and walked towards the door quickly, pausing as he had on Christmas to mutter, "I really meant them in good faith. I had hoped you'd like them. But throw them away. They didn't mean anything."

And he was gone.

Aw, shit! Shitshitshitshitshit. He had been so angry, why now was he feeling guilty? Mulder sank into his kitchen chair, holding his head in his hands. Why had he gotten so worked up? All day he'd wanted to punch the man, the moment he opened the packages. Why was that? Was he mad at Scully and wanted to take it out on someone else? She hadn't done anything besides wear pink. Was Krycek his punching bag? Had he really been embarrassed enough to get that mad? It wasn't like the whole building knew. Really, the man had been discrete-for him.

No, he knew the real reason. He had been mad at himself for New Year's still. And mad Krycek hadn't made another move any earlier. Mulder had been getting sick of jacking off to his own bad fantasies. He didn't even know what the man felt like outside of his own twisted dreams. And he was mad that Krycek had given him something. Granted he might have been more shocked and grateful had it had been information, but a teddy bear? It showed a side that Mulder didn't want to think Krycek had. And why was that? So Mulder could feel justified using Krycek as his punching bag.

Mulder moaned. God, was he fucked up or what? No wonder why he understood psychos so well; he was one.

Something made him get to his feet and run to the window prying it open. A few moments of struggle and it came up jerkily. Somehow, he knew. Krycek was still down there. And he had to get him back. Ignoring the feeling that he was a damsel in distress calling for her prince, he yelled.

"Krycek!"

No response.

"Krycek!!" A little louder. Still nothing. "KrycekKrycekKrycek! Get your ass up here!"

A seemingly quiet and much annoyed noise reached his ears.

"Mulder. Can't you keep it down? Fine, I'll come up. Just shut up!"

Two minutes later, there was a knock on Mulder's door. He opened it and let the man in before locking it again. Now that he was back, he wasn't sure what to do. Mulder might have had a revelation but he wasn't about to share it. Krycek stepped away from him warily, hands tucked in leather pockets. The imprints were fading and Mulder was glad to see he had done no lasting damage.

"What a way to get us both killed, you idiot."

Mulder took a step towards him, hands splayed out showing no threat. Krycek eyed him up and down, noting the hands, before his eyes lit upon Mulder's. Five seconds later, Mulder found himself pushed up against a wall, fighting for breath in between the man's kisses.

He desperately toed off shoes and socks, letting his feet get free of stuffy office wear. Krycek allowed himself to be pushed back just enough so Mulder could fling his suit jacket over his head. Mulder quickly undid the buttons of Krycek's blazer and the man ripped it off one arm before sliding it down the other. The entire time their mouths moved; Krycek nibbling on Mulder's lower lip, Mulder tasting teeth, both of them stroking each others tongues, intertwining, lips pulling apart then pushing forward at a new angle seeking more and more contact.

This was what he wanted. Kisses. Fast hard kisses. He didn't really want to hit the man anymore. He had a new and much more pleasant way to take out his anger now. And Krycek was as passionate as he in this context.

As they tongue-fought each other, Mulder nearly choking as Krycek claimed him, Mulder's nose began to twitch. Oh yes. He was wearing it again. Mulder let a tiny moan escape his lips and Krycek took that as a go ahead.

His real hand began tugging at Mulder's shirt pulling it out of his waist band and then sliding his hand up and under the shirt, lighting on flesh. Krycek's hand was cool to the touch and Mulder's stomach pulled in as reflex. The man's hand slid around to his back kneading sore lower back muscles, pressure alternating, hard with feather-light.

Needing to get in on the action, Mulder brought his own hands up underneath Krycek's sweater. The fabric was soft on his knuckles as he tried to meld his hands into the man's body.

Suddenly an old Sinatra song he'd heard began to play in his head.

I tried so not to give in,
I said to myself this affair never will go so well But why should I try
to resist when baby I know so well, I've got you under my skin

Standing wasn't conducive to the desire coursing through his body. His arousal sang through him and in one movement that somehow Krycek anticipated and aided, Mulder jumped first to his toes and then up further getting his legs wrapped around Krycek's waist, crotches now as close as possible; only two layers of denim and perhaps underclothing separating them. His head slammed into the wall but any pain was redirected as Krycek bit his neck then sucked on it, quickly bringing the blood to the surface and leaving his mark.

It wasn't right. Not his surrender. But he gave it anyway.

I'd sacrifice anything, come what might
For the sake of having you near
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear
Don't you know little fool
You never can win
Use your mentality; wake up to reality

Mulder couldn't get enough of him. He tried to pull him closer letting Krycek's full scent envelop him, knowing it was his doom. He'd fall like the others who had loved their enemy. And still he couldn't stop.

Krycek's hips were rocking against him, plastic arm under his ass, real hand by Mulder's head. His voice shook as he asked, "Did you hate me when you woke up? New Year's Day?"

Mulder tried to steady his breathing, head arching against the wall as Krycek kissed up his throat.

"I always hate you, Krycek. Always. But no, I didn't stop wanting you the next morning," he whispered. And was rewarded with a tender kiss that contradicted Krycek's forceful thrust. Krycek swallowed his groan as he deepened the kiss pulling Mulder's tongue into his mouth so he could suck on it. Mulder slipped an inch on the wall, bulging erection pushing harder against Krycek's and their mouths slipped apart both coming away glistening. Mulder caught a glimpse of green eyes dilated with lust before Krycek leaned his forehead onto Mulder's chest to concentrate on moving his hips rather than kissing.

But each time that I do
Just the thought of you makes me stop, before I begin
Cause I've got you,
Under my skin...

Mulder didn't dare move his hips in kind knowing he really was too heavy for this; he wasn't exactly a lightweight girl. He longed for anything to grab onto above him so he could meet Krycek's assault but settled on letting his hands roam underneath the sweater still. A brush past a nipple and Krycek let out a sweet gasp. A pinch received a quick intake of air. Switching tactics, Mulder let his hands trail across the man's back and up to his shoulders, gripping tight and hoping for a release of pressure on his groin. If Krycek didn't stop his maddening movements he was definitely going to cum right here, in his clothes and plastered to the wall. Altogether, not unappealing.

"Mulder, I..." Krycek's voice had risen an octave and Mulder knew he wasn't any less ready to let go.

Gasping he said, "I have extra pants. And a shower."

That was all the other man needed. He moved his feet out and let Mulder slide down a little. Mulder thought it must be a strain on his single arm but was too damn close be able to stop in consideration. Cloth rasping as Krycek bucked his hips up once more, Mulder pushing his own out from the wall to meet them, they both came, moments after one another Mulder with a growl and a quiet keening noise from Krycek.

Shudders still passing over him Mulder let go of Krycek's hips, feet hitting the ground as they both sagged, attempting not to disgrace themselves by falling down completely.

"Fucking A," muttered Krycek.

"Well, that was a first," Mulder muttered back, not sure what type of first he was talking about. Coming in his clothes? Doing that with a man?

An awkward grin later they were both standing, Mulder showing Krycek the bathroom, not like he didn't already know probably, and then walking uncomfortably to his room to grab a pair of jeans for them both. Cooling semen was just not pleasant inside the pants, he thought, making a face.

Walking back to the bathroom Mulder handed in the old jeans he'd shrunk out of recently to Krycek who took them stonily before disappearing for a few minutes. Passing by him on his own turn in Mulder realized that despite having just come, he still wasn't satisfied. Now that the aroma of sex was in the air his penis was already trying to ask for an encore to the previous performance. The seemingly accidental brush of Krycek's hand didn't help either.

Exiting, hair wet from his quick shower, he found Krycek getting something out of his fridge.

"What's that?"

"Champagne."

"What is it with us and alcohol?" The man smiled as he poured. "I mean honestly, Krycek. I just did that without any alcohol in my system. Still think I need it?"

"Need it? No. But why not?"

Why not indeed? Mulder questioned silently, taking the proffered flute full of bubbling amber liquid.

"You know, weird as this is to say...fucking is messier this way."

Krycek's usual guard dropped along with his jaw before he let out a full-throated laugh. "That's right. You haven't done this before."

Mulder grimaced.

"Don't worry, we'll take it slow," Krycek said teasingly.

"And if I don't want to?"

The younger man's face went serious. "Let's just say enough of our past is filled with regrets and I don't want anymore. I don't rape people, Mulder. And I never want something to happen when you're not ready, high schoolish as it sounds."

"You went to high school?" Mulder asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, thank you. College too. I am every bit as smart as you. More so in some ways."

This was getting too close for comfort. First gifts, now seeming honesty. Mulder might not be turned off towards sex anymore but this was still the man who shot his father, watched Missy get shot, not to mention whatever else Mulder didn't know. He might have psychoanalyzed himself earlier but it still didn't mean he wanted to get personal with Krycek. No matter what, he was still a bastard.

Krycek seemed to notice his silence and his features shuttered closed. Mulder gazed at his glass and took another sip. It was tasty. And no doubt expensive as well. Where did Krycek get his money? Mulder might not want personal details but he wouldn't mind knowing what he did.

Silence persisted for a few minutes.

Clearing his throat and studying the man in front of him, the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, the graceful lines of his fingers holding the glass as he set it down, Mulder asked, "Now what?"

Krycek started to reach out his hand towards Mulder before he pulled back. What had he been going to do?

"Well, normally we'd fuck." He shrugged. "But seeing as how I'm not doing that tonight, I guess we get to talk. Care for pizza?"

"Umm...sure," responded Mulder. He got up to make the call pausing when the girl asked him what he wanted. Feeling awkward he turned and asked the man he still though of as his enemy what kind of pizza he wanted.

"Pepperoni," Krycek answered blandly.

Pizza ordered he sat down. "That's so American of you, Krycek."

An amused smirk accompanied, "Well, I am, Mulder."

"Those guards didn't seem to think so."

Eyes flashed cold. "You're a fucking idiot, Mulder."

"I'm still curious what you were doing. And how do I know this isn't some elaborate set up as well? Get Mulder to have sex with me and one night I can kill him in his sleep. Or hogtie him and offer him up for ransom to either the FBI or to the Consortium."

"You'll never understand, Mulder. My reasons will always be twisted to you. Until I know you're ready to listen to me, I'm not defending myself to you." Green flickered with icy anger, and Mulder watched as the man's forefinger began a slight tapping on his thigh.

"I am ready to listen."

"No, you're not, Mulder. Trust me, I'll know when you are."

Getting slightly annoyed with the cat and mouse game, his raised his voice. "How can I trust you? You haven't given me anything still!"

"Mulder, how many times do we have to go through this? What about the information I gave you last time? It was useful, correct?"

Mulder grumbled before giving in and nodding. It had been-was-useful. But it still didn't prove anything.

"And what did I say the last time I was here?"

Mulder blinked in confusion.

Sighing, Krycek answered for him. "I can't fake attraction, remember? Girls can fake it all they want. Men, especially me, can't. I could be getting my brains fucked out and finding it an all around pleasant feeling but if I don't like the person, I just can't get it up." He grimaced. "One of my worse faults. And I can't believe I just admitted it to you either." He smacked his head with his palm. "What is it about you, Mulder? Now you've got me spilling my guts about my sex life."

"Why is it so bad?"

Mulder felt like a first grader being lectured by their teacher, the way Krycek was looking at him so condescendingly. "Well, besides the fact that it's embarrassing...I can't tell you how many people have asked if I need one of those miracle drugs-"

"Besides that, Krycek," Mulder said bitingly. Of course it was embarrassing. And if true, then it was a pretty good measure that the man found Mulder attractive at the very least, considering what he had felt earlier. No lack in 'uppage' then. If true. He was willing to bet Krycek would say anything to fool him, embarrass himself even.

Krycek started fiddling with his jacket lapel, not looking at Mulder. " Look this isn't what I wanted to-"

"I don't care. You started it. And you don't want to talk about anything else. Remember, I'm not ready." Sarcasm dripped. "So your lack of sexual prowess is what we get to talk about instead."

Krycek's arm stopped its motion and moved to grip the table. He leaned forward, voice straining with anger and whispered, "I have no lack of sexual prowess, Mulder. I swear to God if...you're just lucky I'm not a rapist or your ass would be mine right now, Mulder."

Mulder leaned back, pleased he could goad Krycek into anger. He didn't care if Krycek couldn't get it up for his jobs. And he assumed that was what he was referring to. Not altogether a pleasant thought. Because it made Krycek a victim, or because Mulder couldn't help wanting the man himself and didn't want to contract something? He pushed that aside for the moment.

"Why not, Krycek? You can kill people in cold blood, but a little sex you can't do?"

The man was seething. "Push me any further, Mulder..." Suddenly he let go of the table and relaxed back, face calm and contemplative.

"That's what you were trying to do, isn't it? Push me over the edge. I see it now. I'm just not sure if you want to be raped making it easier on you, or some other reason like you can't let me win for a single moment. Mulder always on top."

Mulder sighed. Damn, he'd figured it out. Probably be more wary now too. His fun just couldn't last long.

There was a knock on the door. As he went to open it, Krycek called after him, "You won't always be on top, Mulder. I promise you that."

Shuddering, he tried to ignore the delivery boy's strange look, tipping him and forcefully shutting the door in his face. They ate in silence for ten minutes.

"Do you really hate them?"

Mulder blushed knowing exactly what he meant.

"Yes."

"Mulder, do we need to go over every conversation from the last time? Do you ever listen? I said I can smell bullshit a mile away. And I call you. Bullshit."

"Damn you."

"Been done."

Mulder's mouth quirked up the slightest bit. "Fine, after my beginning anger with you, I had to admit they're nice. I like the jacket."

"Thought you might. You don't take enough luxuries Mulder." He winked. "I plan on changing that. The teddy bear?"

"Weird."

Krycek laughed. "Had to, couldn't resist." Mulder gave him his best glare. "The handcuffs?"

"Fuck, no."

Krycek's eyes sparkled mischievously as he reached over and ran his hand up Mulder's thigh, squeezing lightly at the top. "Who said you had to wear them?"

"Who else has two hands in this arrangement?"

"Touche. But, I'm creative."

"I'll bet," Mulder said rolling his eyes.

"And hey, I got you to admit you liked the gifts. I knew I would." He smiled that grin again; Mulder couldn't decide if it was real or Krycek just baring his teeth for intimidation. "The only people more stubborn than the Germans are the Russians. How else did we beat Napoleon and the Germans?"

"You beat the Germans? I beg to differ."

"You couldn't have done it without us. There was no way Germany could invade a country on the other side of the world. But one right next to it? All lesser countries fell."

"A history buff too I see. More and more I learn...But tell me, Krycek, what happened to 'I love this country' and your supposed attempts to turn in anti-Americans?"

Krycek shrugged, the smallest movement of his shoulders possible. " Again, you don't know all my reasonings. But just because I like the country I've lived in all my life doesn't mean I can't be proud of my one hundred percent Russian ancestry."

"A point for you."

"Keeping score now?"

"Why not? It'll save me from the boredom."

"Implying I am boring?"

"Not at all, Krycek. Though, now that you mention it..."

"Bastard," Krycek said good-natured.

"Isn't that my line?"

"Maybe."

"Pissant."

"Well that's one I haven't heard before." Krycek stood, stretching, his sweater pulling up from his waist to give Mulder a glimpse of pale skin taut over a muscled waist. The look he gave Mulder as he sauntered towards the living room let him know it wasn't an accident. Mulder followed.

"So, Mulder," Krycek said, turning abruptly as he reached the couch and causing Mulder to nearly crash into him. Which Krycek used to his advantage, of course. Mulder needed to study the man more so he wouldn't surprise him so much. He found himself standing in between the legs of Krycek who was now sitting on the back of the couch. And he was almost purring.

"Ummm..."

"Mulder, will you put them on for me?"

"What?" Mulder asked, confused.

"The jacket and boxers."

The man was gazing at him from under his lashes. Those long lashes...

"I'm not your personal Ken doll, Krycek."

"But I know how good you'll look. Please?" Mulder watched as Krycek's lashes dipped provocatively in what could only be a choreographed movement designed to snare any human being, animal or machine for fuck's sake. And he was definitely purring.

How did he do it? Mulder felt his resolve melting and stepped back to pick up the package from the floor where he'd dumped them earlier. He grumbled the whole way back to his bedroom to at least appear that he wasn't happy Krycek wanted to see him in satin. He consoled himself thinking the entire NYPD police squad and Skinner would have fallen victim to that look.

Mentally kicking himself, Mulder pulled the jacket out from its package. He stripped his shirt and suits pants off then decided the boxers could go too. He slid both pieces on, loving the liquid cool feeling. He didn't think he'd ever worn satin before. It wasn't his usual style.

Looking in the mirror, Mulder thought he might start wearing it more often though. He looked pretty damn sexy, with the male version of bed hair, pieces sticking up strategically here and there. Very Frederic Fekkai. He snickered to himself. Ever since Krycek had been going on about luxuries, he'd decided to research more than just good quality suits.

Dressed, he walked out suddenly feeling self-conscience. This too was a strange feeling. Why did the man throw Mulder off kilter so much? He seemed to bring another side out of him. One that tried new things and derobed, or rather, he thought pausing, robed for an assassin.

He was greeted with a low whistle.

"I knew it would look good on you, but not that good. You're in better shape than I thought. You hide it well under those suits." Alex was leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Gee, thanks. I think."

"Learn to take a compliment, Mulder."

Mulder sighed as he walked over to the couch and sank into it. "I feel ridiculous. I'm parading around in Valentine's garb in front of you. A male assassin who's betrayed me I don't know how many times. At least let me know something, Krycek. How many video cameras are taping this?"

Mulder caught Krycek rolling his eyes as he turned and sat next to him.

"Mulder, don't you think I would have turned them off if there were any? I can't exactly be seen here with you either. Less of a worry about my sexuality, I could give a shit. But They'd all think I was sneaking information to you and we'd both be dead men."

"But you are."

"Doesn't mean I want them to know. Not until I can get you enough to bring those bastards down." His voice cracked at the end and as Mulder glanced over he saw the other man's brow furl and his one fist clench before he smoothed everything away.

"Speaking of, I have something new for you. It's in your desk drawer already. And I have to admit, I am impressed with your control on the last bit I gave you. Normally, you go charging in with no thoughts of implications for you, your truth, or Scully."

"I may be getting smarter."

"Maybe you are. Keep it up and we can bring them down."

"We?"

"We."

"I thought you worked alone."

He sighed. "I do my job alone. But if there's one person I wouldn't mind sharing it with, it's you. Sentimental as it sounds."

"Is it?" Mulder asked, eyebrows rising. This time though, he was more curious than nervous.

"Sentimental? Not really. You're the only one with more passion than me. Your obsessiveness with the truth is equal to my need to survive. Annoying as it can be, it helps on occasion too. Together, you and I, we make a great team. Unstoppable."

"Scully and I make a great team."

"Sure, for the X-Files. I'm not insulting her. But to fight, Mulder." He fully turned towards Mulder, leaning forward, his voice becoming an excited whisper. "To fight Them, you and I, we can go so much further."

Mulder couldn't help leaning in himself, Krycek's voice pulling him, exciting his brain and in turn his groin. Mulder's head was spinning with the promise he heard in Krycek's words and his penis was growing with lust as heat rolled off in waves from the other man. His rational brain cried out it had heard these words before, that promises like this had been made to him a thousand times, but its voice was drowned out.

He'd forgotten how silly he felt in what he was wearing, until Krycek finished moving forward, legs touching now, and ran his hands down the collar of the smoking jacket.

Mulder blushed, but Krycek's gaze was elsewhere. He felt surprisingly tender fingers graze his collar bone and smooth down one side of his chest which was exposed and up the other. Looking at the man, Mulder realized he blended into the darkness of the room, even the red sweater hidden by the black jacket in the winter darkness. Mulder hadn't even noticed when night had set in. For a brief moment he wondered what Scully was doing right now. Then he felt lips attach to his collarbone and a gasp ripped from his lips.

"Mulder, you taste so good..." he heard Krycek mumble.

Desire coursing through him, he hauled the dark head up towards his own and with his other hand pulled him closer, almost into his lap.

"Kiss me, you asshole," Mulder said and watched as Krycek's eyes went smoky before complying.

Thank God they hadn't ordered onions and neither one liked garlic sauce.

As the kiss deepened, Mulder pulling Krycek's tongue into his mouth, lips barely leaving each other for little air intakes, Krycek shifted his weight enough so Mulder's head was resting in the crook of the couch's arm. His fake arm moved to Mulder's side where it supported him as he slid his real hand down Mulder's chest, blazing fire as it went, skin turning to ice as it moved beyond. He fiddled with the knot for about three seconds before it was open, Krycek pushing the satin aside.

Krycek settled his hips over Mulder's better and in time with a thrusting tongue Mulder pushed his hips up to encourage more action from the other man. Mulder brought his own hands into action, first crushing Krycek's face into his, hoping to swallow him whole, then moving them to his jacket. Krycek's hand had slipped around to his back gently rubbing as he detached from Mulder's mouth to relatch onto Mulder's neck, finding a spot that made Mulder push his hips up again, a whining noise in the back of his throat.

He listened closely as Krycek started mumbling breathlessly and quiet, " Mulder, MuldergodwhyMulderyouMulderdamnonly..." as he kissed and licked Mulder's neck, hips finally pushing back towards Mulder. His voice drove Mulder who started fumbling with shoulders of his jacket trying to push it off. Krycek put his hand up covering one hand and stopping it, pulling back.

"Stop, Mulder."

"What the hell for?"

"You're not ready still. No, don't look at me like that. No one could know how much I want to fuck you right now. If you can't feel that, you're insane. But with you, I know this has to go in stages. If I want more than one fuck and your eternal hatred for screwing you, I have to go slow, annoying as that is. But I know how your brain works, Mulder."

Mulder stared. Krycek sure had good control over his hormones. Mulder didn't have nearly that much control. He wriggled his pelvis pushing his erection up to meet Krycek, gasping as he felt the rough jeans rub against the thin layer of satin covering himself. Krycek groaned, eyes dilating and leaned over Mulder so that he thought Krycek was going to change his mind after all.

Instead he heard, whispered in his ear, "I can't help but want you, more than I want to."

And with one last pelvic grind he was up and off Mulder, straightening his clothes.

Trying to regain some dignity after his shameless abandon, Mulder sat up, pulling the smoking jacket back about him and running his hands through his hair.

"So that's it, huh? Are you going to do this every fucking time? Run out? I'm the one who should be running here, Krycek, not you."

"You're right, Mulder, you should be." The man paused. "But I hope you won't. And that's why I keep doing this. I know what you need. What your brain needs to justify it. I have to make sure you know what you're doing. Anytime you want, we'll stop. But I won't let you blame it on me by letting your basic instincts take over. I have to have more control than that with you. Just like you have to learn to stop hitting me. Remember, I'll hit back next time. And I don't want to hurt you."

Mulder stared at his hands, watching them fold, unfold, rub together, in an unending, unrealized pattern.

"Why..." Why do I want you? He wanted to ask. Why do I have this overwhelming need to have you under my skin, possessing every bit of me? After all you've done...But instead he asked, "Why do you want me? Everything I've done. To you. And I wouldn't undo any of it."

Krycek looked at him almost sadly. Then he huffed out a laugh. " Shouldn't I be asking you that, Mulder? Why do I want you, Mulder? Tell you what. I'll let you know when I figure it out."

Mulder looked up, staring into his eyes, face blank. "Is that promise? Can I believe you?"

I tried so, not to give in...

Krycek stared back as avidly, blinking once before he lowered and tilted his head so Mulder could only see the long eyelashes resting on his cheek. "A promise. Like you would believe me anyway. Yeah, I promise I'll tell you. You'll just have to decide if you believe me or not. I can't make you."

Oh but I want to; I always have, thought Mulder as he stood up and walked over. As the man gazed up through his lashes, Mulder lowered his head just enough to lay his lips on Krycek's, hoping to let him know how much he wanted to believe through his kiss, rather than saying the words. Unspoken, they couldn't be used against him.

Wake up to reality...

Separating he said, "Is there some way I can contact you?"

"Not yet, Mulder."

"What do you mean, not yet?"

"I don't trust you with," a vague wave of his hand, "whatever this may be. The last thing I need is you calling or tracing me down when you're drunk and killing me in my sleep."

"So nice to know I am supposed to trust you, without the same in return. "

"I trust you, Mulder. I trust you to find the truth, to always strive for it, to always protect Scully. I don't trust you with my life yet, however. Don't try to beat the shit out of me next time and we'll see."

"Why do I feel like I'm being coddled?"

Krycek's face went soft. "You're not, Mulder. I just want something to work here and I just know you, Mulder. Ask yourself. Do you think, when you wanted to kill me for sending stupid gifts that you won't want to take it out on me if something goes wrong at work? You need to come to terms with it first, yourself. Then we'll talk."

Makes me stop, before I begin...

Mulder sighed knowing he was right. After today he was due for much soul-searching. Scully would really complain he was withdrawn. He always got depressed when he had to look at his sorry excuse for a life.

Standing by the door this time, instead of running out it, Krycek shuffled his feet. He seemed to be waiting for something, or was indecisive himself.

Mulder thought about kissing him, but figured a good-bye kiss would make it seem personal, make it more of a relationship. Mulder didn't want Krycek assuming anything.

Or yourself, whispered a voice in his head.

Mulder blinked that thought away as Krycek let out an answering sigh and opened the door.

"I'll see you around, Mulder. If I think I have more information for you, I'll contact you." His eyes lit with a fire. "Think about what I said, Mulder. Work with me, be with me, and we can win."

"Hm," Mulder said noncommittally, halfway to being depressed already, not paying attention as the light faded, Krycek's face falling at Mulder's comment, before he composed it quickly.

"Mulder."

He looked up into blazing green eyes. Surely, he could drown.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Mulder chuckled at the statement. "Yeah, you too, Krycek."

Krycek started to slip out the door.

"Oh, and Krycek?"

The black figure already blending into shadow paused.

"Yes?"

"Thanks...for everything."

He noticed a rippling in the form that could have been a smile or just a flickering shadow.

"Until next time, Mulder."

And once more, he was gone.

'Cause I've got you under my skin...

Mulder laughed as he realized Krycek had just left still wearing his jeans.

Ending Note: The Japanese slingshot line comes from the musical Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. It's what Burt Reynolds' character calls a man-thong with snaps on the sides.