Shut up.
How could he feel anything else? You helped them try to destroy him.
I protected him.
You stopped him from getting there in time to save Scully.
I saved his life. If he'd been there they would have killed him.
How can you be so sure?
Because I know them. Because I was them.
Exactly. And that's why he'll always hate you.
You don't know that. You can't know that.
Oh, I'm sorry. What I meant to say was 'Of course he feels the same
way. That's why he keeps trying to beat the shit out of you every time
he sees you.'
Not every time.
Well, no. There was the time he tried to shoot you instead.
He was doped up on LSD. It's not as if he's ever tried to actually kill
me when he wasn't high.
No, he just keeps threatening to do it instead. One of these days he's
going to pull that trigger.
He's had the chance. Twice.
He would have done it that time if Scully hadn't shot him.
True. I never thought I'd see the day where I thanked Scully.
She probably just wanted to save you so she could shoot you herself.
She'd have more of a chance of hitting; she's a better shot then he is.
It's all that pent-up aggression she has towards you.
She's lose some of that if she got laid more often.
Why, do you want to offer?
Ha-ha. I don't think so. Any man who sticks his cock into the Ice Queen
risks having it turn into an icicle. And I'm rather fond of that part of
my anatomy.
Besides, she's not the one you want to fuck, right?
I don't want to 'fuck' him.
Liar.
I want to make love to him.
{Retch.}
What was that?
Nothing.
I can't believe it. You're turning into a romantic. Oh God, I think
I'm gonna be sick.
If you do vomit, remember to lie on your back while you're doing it.
That way you might choke and give me some peace.
It's nice to know you care so much about me.
You're my conscience; my moral centre. I'm a... now let's see, what have
I been called recently? How about 'thief', 'assassin', 'traitor', and
there was that guy who called me an 'all-round amoral bastard'. So, it's
not as if you've been much use to me lately.
I'm trying to remedy that.
How? You're nowhere in sight when I'm killing people and blowing things
up, and now I'm taking steps towards actually changing, you're trying to
discourage me. Maybe you should look 'conscience' up in the dictionary,
'cause you've got it wrong some where.
I'm trying to look out for you, Alex. If you go to Mulder's apartment,
you'll just get hurt—physically and emotionally.
You don't know that.
Yes I do. Do the words 'rat bastard' mean anything to you?
Do the words 'shut the fuck up' mean anything to you?
A bit touchy there, Alex. What's the matter? Did I hit a sore point?
Fuck off.
Very eloquent. But it's for your own good I'm telling you this. My
only concern is what's best for you.
My heart bleeds. Now shut up and let me think.
If you have to think about what you're doing, then, odds are, you're
making a mistake.
Actually, I trying to decide whether to go through the door or if the
window would be better. But I'll give you points for trying.
Any feelings he may have had for you died on the same day his father
did.
That was nothing to do with me.
He thinks you killed him.
His father was a bastard, and if the old s.o.b. hadn't shot himself,
then I probably would have whacked him.
That's not a confession I would make to him.
Well d'uh! I'm not that stupid.
You were stupid enough to fall for a man you were assigned to.
It wasn't my fault. They didn't tell me.
Didn't tell you what?
Didn't tell me how brilliant his mind was. How his eyes look right into
you. How he wears his strength like armour, and his vulnerability like a
shield. And they certainly didn't tell me how fuckable he looks when he
pouts.
Okay, I'll give you that. He does look fuckable when he pouts. But
that still doesn't mean what you're about to do is right.
I need to know. And unless I do this, I never will.
He hasn't seen you since that time in Tunguska.
Hasn't seen you since you got yourself caught by a bunch of Russian
peasants.
Don't.
Why, Alex? Another sore point? Admit it, even if he could have felt
anything for you, he's hardly likely to feel it now, is he? After all,
you're not a full man anymore.
{Thump.}
Basdard, I dink you broke my dose.
Remember: my mind, my rules. I'm not going to take any shit from someone
who isn't even real.
And this is the thanks I get for trying to look out for you.
I'd laugh, but it's two in the morning and I don't want to wake anyone up.
I've made up my mind, now quit trying to get me to change it.
One last chance, Alex. You can still leave. It's not too late.
You're wrong. It was too late from the moment I saw him.
Opening his eyes, Alex Krycek reached out, and quickly picked the lock
to the door to apartment 42. Standing perfectly still, Alex looked
around the apartment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The man
sitting cross-legged on the floor slowly raised his head, as a hand
reached out to the desk to switch on the lamp balanced precariously on
the edge. Alex winced slightly as the harsh light flooded the room, and
tensed as he waited for Fox Mulder to jump up and attack him. Instead, a
brilliant smile crossed the FBI agent's face. "I'm glad you're here,
Alex," Mulder said, his voice soft. "There's something I want to tell
you."
End...
I Believe II—Alex
by Claire
I don't know why you're doing this. He hates you, you know.
