Screaming. Someone was screaming. I fought my way out of a deep sleep and
rolled out of bed. A red glow illuminated the darkened bedroom as I crossed
to the window. I looked out and... Oh shit.
The house across from me was on fire. I could see a woman I vaguely
recognized as the homeowner running at the front door, as if she wanted to
get back inside. The flames beat her back and she wailed again.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and my boots and rushed out the door, slipping a
sweatshirt over my head as I moved. I crossed the street, and a woman ran
to me babbling incoherently. I grabbed her and tried my best to understand
what she was so desperately trying to tell me. She pointed at an upstairs
window and I turned to look.
Oh, jesus. The kid was still inside. He was pounding at the window, mouth
open in a silent scream.
More neighbors swarmed out around us, and I turned to an elderly man I'd
spoken with on a casual basis from time to time. "Has anyone called this
in?" I asked him.
"I called the fire department a minute ago," he informed me.
"How long will it take them to get here?"
He shrugged. "This ain't their favorite part of town, you know? Last fire
it took 'em nearly fifteen minutes to respond." He looked past me at the
upstairs window, and his eyes widened. "Oh god," he groaned in horror.
"The boy!" Pointing with a shaking finger, he glanced at me hopelessly.
"We have to do something."
I swallowed heavily and scanned the gathering crowd. All of the men present
were either very young or very old. Damn, I hated fire. But, I couldn't
just stand there hoping that rescue would somehow arrive in time. I shoved
the woman at the old man and ran toward the burning building. Flames
engulfed the front room, climbing hungrily up from the windows to reach for
the second story. I went around to the back looking for a way in and found
the kitchen door standing open. Smoke swirled, but no flames were yet in
evidence. I went inside and stopped at the sink long enough to wet a couple
of dishtowels; placing one over my mouth and nose, I headed up the stairs.
The hallway was hot and the smoke so heavy that I had to move forward by
feel alone because my eyes were tearing, effectively blinding me. Once I'd
located the door behind which I thought the boy would be, I grabbed the
handle then pulled my hand back, cursing. Fuck! It was so hot that I'd
burned my hand badly. I used the wet towel and tried again. Yes... I was
in. Now, where was the boy?
"Kid?" I croaked. "You in here?"
"Mommy," a small voice whimpered.
I dropped to the floor and moved toward that voice. "Talk to me, kid. I
can't see."
"Mommy," he cried. "Want my Mommy."
I slithered across the floor following his pathetic noises, and when I
reached him, he threw himself at me, wrapping both arms and legs around me.
Stumbling awkwardly to my feet, I went to the window and tried to raise it.
No go. The fucking thing was nailed shut. I turned my back and slammed my
elbow through the damn thing, wincing at the tearing sensation as ragged
shards of glass caught my upper arm. Instead of cool air, flames rushed in
at me and I fell back.
Beginning to think that I just might die tonight, I turned and headed back
to the hallway. The fire had reached the second floor and was coming at me
at a terrifying speed. Knowing I had only seconds to save the kid—and
myself—I raised the hand that had been supporting him and held the wet
towel to my face.
"Hold on, kid." I yelled at him as I rushed down the hall. The stairway
was filled with smoke, but it looked as if the fire had not yet reached it.
I stumbled and slid down the steps, rushing through the kitchen to burst out
of the back door. Twisting so that I didn't land on the kid, I fell hard
and lay stunned for a moment. Gathering my strength, I rose and made my way
around to the front of the house, the kid still holding on with surprising
tenacity. I heard the mother wail again. Suddenly people surrounded me,
and someone took the kid.
I still couldn't see anything and wiped at my streaming eyes with the towel,
blinking repeatedly. A hand landed on my arm, pulling at me. "Come on," a
voice said. "Fire's getting worse... we have to move back."
I frowned as I blindly followed. I knew that voice. Who the hell? Once
away from the house, the fresh air hit my lungs and I started coughing
convulsively. The owner of the voice put an arm around me and practically
lifted me, hauling me over to set me down on the curb. Still coughing and
wheezing, I bent over my knees struggling for breath.
A warm hand settled on my back, rubbing soothing patterns, trying to ease
the spasming of my lungs. "Easy... relax and try to breathe through your
nose."
Damn. Who the fuck belonged to that voice? I knew I'd heard it before.
Not in connection with my neighborhood, though. Raising my head, I blinked
again and squinted in the direction of the voice, determined to identify it.
A hiss informed me that I was a surprise to this person. Uh oh. This might
be bad... very, very bad. I'd run to ground here almost a month ago,
needing to hide and recoup. Figuring that no one would look for me in the
ghetto, I'd thought myself safe. And now, it appeared I'd blown it.
"You!" The voice was low and dangerous. "What the hell are you doing here,
boy?"
Boy?! Son of a bitch. I was well and truly fucked this time. Of all the
damned people... It would just have to be him. I stiffened and pulled
back. A strong hand closed around the arm I'd cut on the window and I
gasped.
"Fuck! Let go of me, you bastard," I said in a pained voice, forcing the
words past my constricted throat. "Jesus christ, Skinner, let go of my
fucking arm already."
He opened his hand and cursed with surprise. "How the hell did you do
that?"
"Window," I managed to grit out through clenched teeth. The sound of
approaching sirens filled the air and I automatically tried to rise. He
grabbed my forearm and pulled me back down.
"Where do you think you're going?" He growled at me.
"Dammit, Skinner... you know as well as I what will happen if I'm taken to
a hospital." I slumped down. Wouldn't you just know it? The irony of it...
I shook my head. Escape the fire, save the kid only to have my past
rise up and bite me on the ass. I shrugged and rested my head on my knees.
I hate irony.
Someone sat on my other side and I instinctively flinched away when
something touched my face.
"Man," said a small voice. "Mommy, man hurt."
After some gyrations, he wriggled free of his mother's hold and leaned
against me. He patted my cheek with one hand. "Amalamce come, man. You
okay."
I looked up at him blearily and tried to smile. He put his arms around my
neck and hugged me.
This was a new one. I didn't do kids. To be honest, they scare me.
They're so little and fragile. And they smell funny.
Skinner was scary... but, he wasn't little or fragile and he didn't smell
like a kid. I leaned against him, not sure how to unattach the kid and
hoping he'd chase it away for its own safety or something.
Then the mother started to cry and put an arm around my back burying her
face against the kid. "You saved my baby. My baby." She wailed.
Oh gods, this just kept getting worse and worse. Fire... kids... crying
women. And, now the kid was crying on me, apparently set off by his
mother's tears. He tightened his arms and rested his full weight against
me, his tears rolling off of his face and down my neck.
Skinner was suddenly the very least of my problems. I shifted towards him
again. Surely, he could get them off of me. "Skinner," I pleaded huskily,
"do something."
Under any other circumstances, I'd have most likely laughed at the sheer
helplessness Krycek evinced in the face of this kid. At that particular
moment however, it just didn't quite seem the thing to do. I gently
disengaged the kid's hold on Krycek and turned the boy into his mother's
waiting arms.
"Thanks," he whispered huskily. Then he started coughing. He hunched over
his knees gasping desperately for air. I supported him when it began to
look as if he might pitch forward onto his face. Slumped heavily against
me, Krycek breathed shallowly with intense concentration on the task.
The rumbling of the firetrucks vibrated through the roadway, and Krycek
raised his head, squinting in the direction of the flashing lights. I could
hear a voice bellowing over the confusion, asking if anyone was hurt.
Rising to my feet, I kept one hand on the back of his neck to hold him in
place. I'd learned through years of hard-won experience to never, ever to
underestimate the capabilities of this particular rat.
"Over here," I yelled, waving my arm in the air. "He needs oxygen."
A paramedic headed our way and immediately settled an O2 mask over his mouth
and nose. Still standing behind Krycek, I watched as the medic reached for
his sweatshirt. Krycek immediately tensed and tried to back away from the
man, wrapping his arm around his middle as he leaned against my legs.
"Let him look at your arm," I said in his ear once I'd knelt down.
He shook his head and moaned. His arm closed protectively over the stump of
his left arm and he shuffled back again. I sighed and put one arm around
his shoulders, bracing him.
"Hush now," I said in a low voice. "I'll do it." Carefully moving his hand
down, I pulled at his sweatshirt. He made a noise of protest and I leaned
closer to him. "I'll just pull it off of your injured arm, okay?"
"Here," the paramedic waved a pair of scissors, "I'll just cut it off."
Krycek breathed in sharply and shifted even closer. Dammit—I had not
planned on ending up with Alex Krycek in my lap when I'd taken this
so-called short cut home tonight.
I shot the medic a quelling look. "No," I said sharply. "I've got it." I
pushed his shirt up and carefully worked his right arm free of the garment,
leaving his disfigurement covered.
The medic was careful in his examination; wiping blood out of the way he
frowned and looked up at me. "This'll need stitches," he said. "I'll
bandage it, and we'll transport him in a minute."
Krycek panicked. He pulled away from the paramedic and ran once again into
me, jerked forward. I strengthened my hold across his chest, holding him
steady as he moaned and struggled.
"Hold still," I told him. "Let the man bandage your arm now."
"No," he gasped, pulling the oxygen mask off of his face. "Gotta go...
can't let him find me."
I sighed and put my other arm around him. "It's all right," I said into his
ear. "I'll help you. Just hold still long enough to get this bandaged."
"Uh, sir," the paramedic protested, "this man needs medical attention."
Jesus H. Christ. Walt, what the hell are you doing? I reached into my
pocket and pulled out my Bureau ID. "I'm Walter Skinner, FBI." I held up
my badge. "This man works for me. I'll take responsibility for him. Just
get his arm bandaged and I'll get him to the ER."
"But, sir—"
I drew in a deep breath and fixed him with one of my best
don't-you-give-me-any-shit glares. "I said, I'll take care of him."
Huh. The AD voice seemed to work as well on firemen as it did on
recalcitrant agents. "Yes, sir," the paramedic mumbled.
Krycek shook his head slightly and said something under his breath.
"What?" I asked him.
"I get it," he said as he relaxed against me. "I'm dreaming." He nodded to
himself and sat quietly as his damned arm was bandaged.
Once the medic had finished, I rose and pulled Krycek up beside me. "Come
on," I instructed. "My car's right over there."
A police officer walked towards us. "Excuse me, sir. We'll need a
statement from this man."
I didn't even pause, just kept walking forward, pulling Krycek along with
me. "I'm taking him to the hospital. You can talk to him there."
"Now, sir," the cop planted himself in front of me, unwilling to let me
escape with his witness. "The ambulance—"
I stopped and glared at him. Oh, hell. I briefly debated my action, then
shrugged and reached once again for my ID. "AD Walter Skinner, FBI. This
man is one of my agents, he's working an undercover case and cannot be
identified at this time. I will take care of him, officer."
"I still need a statement, sir."
I stiffened and glared at the officer. "Fine. This is Special Agent
Mulder," I could feel Krycek's immediate reaction to that one. "You can
reach him at the Hoover on Monday," I told the cop shortly. "Now, if you'll
please excuse us."
Ol' Bulldog might be persistent but he wasn't stupid. He got the hell out
of my way.
Still unsteady on his feet, Krycek stumbled, and I put one arm around him.
I hauled him to the car and dumped him into the passenger seat. He leaned
his head back and closed his eyes, while I went around and climbed in behind
the wheel. I started the car and pulled away from the curb.
"Where are you taking me?"
Damn good question. Where was I taking him? Where could I take him? I
shrugged and glanced over at him. "My place," I finally answered him.
He looked at me for a moment then sighed and closed his eyes, resting his
head against the back of the seat. We accomplished the rest of the trip in
silence.
He was so quiet, I thought he'd either passed out or fallen asleep. I
parked the car and got out. When I opened his door, he was awake, looking
up at me. He sighed and climbed awkwardly to his feet. He came along,
unprotesting, to the elevator and leaned against the back wall. When we
reached my floor, he walked down to my door and waited for me to get my key
out.
I led the way in and shrugged out of my coat and suit jacket. "Come on," I
said to him.
He looked at me as if I had spoken in Swahili.
"Krycek, move."
Frowning in confusion, he remained still.
I sighed and reached for his shoulder. Pushing him ahead of me to the
steps, I marched him up to the bathroom. Once I had him seated on the
toilet, I reached for his sweatshirt, and he shied back.
"Krycek, I have to clean up that arm."
He subsided and allowed me to take the filthy shirt off. I tossed it on the
floor and removed the bandage the paramedic had applied. I leaned closer to
examine the cuts and wrinkled my nose.
"You stink," I said.
He shrugged and reached for his stump. When he closed his hand around it,
he gasped and jerked his hand away. I frowned and looked at the mangled
limb. Couldn't see anything but old scars, though. Closing my fingers
around his wrist, I turned his hand palm up and sucked in air when I saw the
burns there.
I stood and opened the medicine cabinet, rummaging for supplies. I lined up
what I'd need on the sink then turned to the shower. Once I'd adjusted the
temperature I turned to Krycek, reached under his arms and lifted him to his
feet.
"What now?" He asked tiredly.
"Shower," I told him as I unsnapped his jeans. "Then bandages. Then
medicine. Then bed."
He nodded and stood quietly as I knelt and removed his boots. I pushed his
jeans down and supported him as he stepped out of them. I got him into the
shower and started to back away, but he was just standing under the water,
unmoving. Realizing that he couldn't do a hell of a lot with that burn on
his hand, I sighed and ran a hand across my face.
What the hell had I gotten myself into here? I undressed to my shorts, and
got in behind him. Soaping up a cloth, I gave him a cursory wash and turned
him under the water, rinsing him off. Reaching around him, I grabbed the
shampoo and washed his hair.
He sighed and leaned into the touch.
Uh oh. Steadfastly ignoring my immediate reaction to his vulnerability, I
rinsed his hair and hauled him back out of the shower. I dried him, then
wrapped the towel around his waist and lowered him to sit on the toilet.
Grabbing a second towel, I ran it over my chest, then used it to dry his
hair.
Again, he sighed and leaned toward me. I tossed the towel aside and pushed
him upright, turning my attention to his injuries. Burn ointment on the
hand and a loose gauze bandage. Good. Now, the arm. I opened a bottle of
sterile wash and directed a stream over and into the gashes.
"Fuck!" Krycek opened his eyes and jerked away.
"Hold still," I grabbed his shoulder. "I have to clean this up before I
bandage it."
"Jesus, Skinner. Just put me on the balcony so I can wake up, already."
I frowned. "Did you hit your head, Krycek?" I lifted my hands to his head,
feeling carefully for any lumps or cuts but found nothing.
"Stop calling me that," he mumbled.
"Stop calling you what?"
"Krycek." He spat the name out. "Not Krycek. Not my name... I hate
that name."
"Okay," I soothed. The guy must be in shock. "What should I call you?"
"Alexei."
"All right, Alexei," I said agreeably as I reached for the antiseptic spray.
"Hold still now." I shook the can and quickly sprayed his arm.
He hissed but held steady.
"Stay here while that dries," I told him. He nodded, and I went into my
bedroom. I collected a pair of pajamas for him and headed back. He was
still sitting there, much to my surprise. I'd really expected to find him
trying to get away.
It had to be either shock or a head injury. Maybe both.
Opening a strip of butterfly bandages, I applied them to the worst of the
cuts and then wrapped gauze around the whole mess. Shaking pills out of the
containers I'd pulled out of the cabinet, I filled a glass with water and
held the pills up.
"Open up and take these," I said.
He frowned suspiciously at the pills and looked at me. "What are they?"
"Antibiotics and painkillers."
He closed his eyes and turned his head away.
"Alexei, take the pills."
Sighing, he turned back and opened his mouth. I put the pills on his tongue
and held up the water for him. Once the pills were down, I picked up the
pajamas and knelt in front of him. Pulling them over his feet and up to his
knees, I rose and hefted him to his feet. He stood unprotesting as I worked
the waistband over his hips, then moved willingly with me into the bedroom.
I threw back the covers and lowered him to sit on the bed. Putting one hand
behind his head, I rested his head against the pillow and lifted his legs.
He'd started to shiver in a combination of pain and delayed shock, I
supposed. I covered him up and got a heavy blanket out of the closet,
throwing that over him, too.
I got myself something to sleep in and went to take a shower. I stood under
the water and tried like hell to figure out what I was doing and why I was
doing it.
I'd just carefully tended the wounds of a man I knew to be a stone cold
killer. And tucked him into my bed.
I'd lost my mind.
What did I care if he was killed in the damn hospital? Hell, I should have
tossed him back into that burning house.
Yeah—the burning house. From which this amoral murderer, betrayer and
multiple agent had saved a kid.
Apparently, he'd lost his mind, too.
But then, he'd also saved my life. And Mulder's. Probably, I admitted to
myself, Scully's too. I felt sure that he had no idea just how much I knew
about him... After the nanocyte debacle, I'd made it my business to
investigate Alex Krycek as thoroughly as possible. Not that I'd found much—but what I had managed to discover had been most... illuminating. And
uncomfortable.
I'd always been attracted to Krycek. Hell, who wouldn't be? I mean, the
man is sex on two legs, for god's sake. At first, I'd held back because he
was my subordinate and because I was married. Then—well, hell—that
night he'd spent on my balcony... I'd tossed and turned all night thinking
of him. Just as I had been doing far too often since. And now, here he was.
In my bed, hurt and vulnerable and looking better than ever.
It promised to be a very long night.
I shook my head and got out of the shower.
I went into the bedroom to check and see if maybe it had all been a dream or
even a hallucination. No such luck. He was still in my bed. And, he was
shaking convulsively, shivering so hard that his teeth were chattering with
cold.
Great. I rolled my eyes and gave in to the inevitable. He watched me
bemused, as I moved to the side of the bed and lifted the covers.
"Move over," I told him.
Silently, he shifted backwards and I climbed it to lie beside him. I turned
off the light and pulled him against me. Stiff with shock, he tried to
resist.
"Alex, just come here."
"Skinner," he muttered. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I'm mad."
"Oh." He thought about that for a second, then gave in and let me pull him
close. "You're mad, huh?"
"Certifiable." I confirmed.
This seemed to make perfect sense to him. He nodded and lay against me.
Slowly, my warmth seemed to sink into him, and he gradually relaxed. It
took a while, but his breathing slowed as he fell asleep.
I lay awake, thoughts chasing themselves around my brain, which was probably
a good thing. I hoped I hadn't gone so far around the bend that I'd
actually fall asleep with Alex Krycek in my arms.
I woke reluctantly, unwilling to climb out of the wonderful warmth and
security my bizarre dream had evolved into. My nose itched though, and I
raised my hand to scratch it.
Bad move. The nerve endings in my hand came screaming to life and I gasped,
sitting up abruptly in my bed.
Except, of course, it wasn't my bed. Absolutely, definitely not my bed.
And, my bizarre dream, not a dream after all.
As I sat there gaping, Skinner grumbled and snorted, opening his eyes to
frown at me. "What?"
Holy freakin' shit! I was in bed with Skinner. Walter Skinner. AD Walter
Skinner.
The phone rang. I watched in a trance, as Skinner rolled to one side and
picked up the receiver.
"Skinner."
He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Yes, Mulder?"
I groaned. Hell, he'd given Mulder's name to that cop last night. Soon
enough, I supposed, Mulder would come storming through the front door and
throw me off of the balcony.
And then, Skinner put one arm behind his head, grinned and stretched like a
great big old cat. "Yes, Agent Mulder, I did give your name to a District
police officer last night."
I could hear sputtering noises coming from the phone.
"You don't say?" Asked Skinner. "The press, huh?"
More noises. Increasing in volume.
"Mmmhmm," Skinner rumbled. "Yes, indeed, I can see where that might be a
problem."
Sounds that bore a distressing similarity to cursing came from the phone.
Skinner's grin widened. "I can't imagine why you don't remember, Mulder.
You must have hit your head at some point last night."
I'd never imagined that Skinner enjoyed playing Mulder so much. He did,
though. The grin was my first tip-off. The decided twinkle in his eye
cinched the deal. I snickered.
"Well, Agent Mulder, I'll be happy to refresh your memory." Another pause.
"Oh no, it's no trouble at all. You were working an undercover case in a
questionable part of town and there was a fire. You bravely ran into a
burning building and saved a young boy. Of course, I couldn't let an
undercover operative go to the hospital, so I took you home, bandaged your
injuries and put you to bed."
At this point, Skinner put the phone under the covers and laughed. Out
loud.
I was amazed. Who'd have thought the big guy smiled, let alone laughed?
He'd been telling me the truth last night... he was mad. Or, an alien.
Once he'd recovered his equanimity, Skinner once again raised the phone to
his ear. "What was that, Mulder?" He pursed his lips, listening intently.
"Your arm? Hmmm, well, the last I heard that particular arm was in Russia."
Oh, jesus. I snorted with laughter.
Really loud noises coming from the phone now. The words Krycek and Rat and
Bastard recurred several times.
Skinner sat up in bed and straightened his shoulders. I grinned,
recognizing the signs.
"Agent Mulder!" Skinner frowned fiercely. It looked a bit strange atop the
grin that still decorated his mouth. "You will do no such thing. Do you
understand me, Mulder?"
Heh, the VOICE had done the trick. Suddenly the noises from the other end
of the phone became much quieter.
"Absolutely not, Mulder. I have excellent reasons for my actions and, all
things considered, I think that you'd best rethink your position."
He rested back against the pillows and bit his lip, trying, I think, to
contain the laughter I could see brimming in his expression.
"I'm fine Mulder." Pause. "No, Mulder... no aliens, no guns, no
blackmail." Another, longer pause, during which, Skinner turned his head
and looked at me for the first time since his conversation with Mulder had
begun. "Yes, he is... no, he's not... Mulder," sigh "the man couldn't
hold a gun if his life depended on it. He was injured in the fire... Yes,
there was a fire... Yes, he pulled a kid out of said fire... Yes,
Mulder, I am sure he's Krycek..."
At this point he winked at me.
My mouth dropped open in shock and he chuckled.
"What? Yes, I laughed... No, I do not want you to come over, Mulder."
He listened and then held the phone out to me. "He wants to talk to you."
I shrugged. What the hell? I mean, it had become quite apparent to me that
my neighbor—the sweet lady—must have been manufacturing hallucinogens in
her fucking basement and that I'd gotten a snootful last night during the
fire. I just had to stay strong and ride it out.
He put the phone on my shoulder and I tilted my head to hold it in place.
"Hello?"
"Krycek? Is that you?"
"Yes, Mulder, it's me."
"What's wrong with your voice?"
"Smoke inhalation."
"What have you done to Skinner?"
I raised my brows at the question. "I haven't done anything to him,
Mulder."
"Why's he acting so strange?"
"Hell, Mulder, I don't know."
"Then you agree he's acting... strange?"
I nearly choked with laughter. After a couple of minutes of coughing during
which I managed to drop the phone, Skinner resettled the receiver on my
shoulder and grinned at the expression on my face.
"Mulder," I said, "you don't know the half of it... the man's laying here
smiling and laughing and winking at me."
"Laying there? You're in bed with him?"
Oops. "Uh... well, yeah, actually, I am."
"Holy shit, Krycek!" He sounded a little envious, to tell you the truth.
"How... What..." He sputtered for a couple of seconds, then gathered his
wits and picked up on what he must have seen as the most amazing part of my
description of Skinner's behavior. "He winked at you?"
"Yeah."
"I see. Um, listen, Krycek... did you... I mean, did he... Hell, you know
what I'm trying to ask."
Oh yeah. I sure did. I lost it. The phone dropped and I collapsed back on
the pillows and giggled. Now, I'm not often given to giggles... but, given
my drugged state, and Skinner's madness and Mulder's confusion, I decided to
overlook my lapse. Skinner raised his brow at me in inquiry and I tried
mightily to tell him what had me in such a state. "He... he wants to know
if we... if you..." I choked and gave up talking, concentrating instead
on breathing between fits of laughter.
Skinner picked up the phone and I could hear Mulder's voice rising
indignantly and that set me off again.
"Just a minute, Mulder," Skinner said into the receiver. "Krycek's enjoying
a fit of the giggles just now."
"He's what?" Mulder's voice was so loud that I heard him quite clearly
from my side of the bed.
"He's giggling, Mulder... No, Mulder, we're not drunk... No, no drugs,
either."
Speak for yourself big boy
"All right, then. Oh, and Mulder? Stop and pick up something for breakfast
on your way over, would you?"
Skinner shrugged and looked over at me. "What would you like for breakfast,
Alexei? Mulder's going to stop."
Oh. Alexei My giggles stopped and I turned to look at him.
"What? I called him Alexei... No, he told me last night that he prefers
that name."
I did?
Once again, Skinner put the phone to my shoulder.
"Yes, Mulder?"
"Should I bring Scully with me?"
"What?" My eyes opened wide. "No, Mulder... absolutely, positively not.
Jesus, are you nuts?"
"Well," Mulder said, "I just wondered... I mean, what if there's really
something wrong with him?"
"With Skinner?"
"No, you moron. With President Clinton. Of course, with Skinner."
I snorted. "I think he's all right, Mulder. Just in a... strange mood."
Skinner started to laugh again.
"He's laughing again, isn't he?" Mulder asked in a low voice.
"Yes, he is. How very perceptive of you, Agent Mulder."
I looked over and saw that Skinner had put a pillow over his face to muffle
his shouts of laughter.
"I'll be right there."
"Okay, Mulder... Don't forget breakfast."
He didn't answer me. He'd already hung up. Probably falling down in his
haste to get here.
Skinner hung up the phone and grinned at me. "Thanks, Alex, I can't
remember when I've had quite so much fun."
"Hey, no problem, Skinner."
"Walt."
"What?"
"My name."
"Oh." I frowned. He couldn't possibly mean... could he?
"Just remember, when Mulder gets here, my name is Walt."
I fell over laughing. "Oh god, Skinner. You are an evil, evil man." I
finally managed to gasp.
He winked at me again. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, Alexei."
Rolling out of the bed, he stretched and ambled off to the bathroom. "I'm
gonna get dressed and make coffee. Come on down when you're ready."
I lay there for several minutes, laughing in fits and starts as I reviewed
our conversation with Mulder. Poor Mulder. Finally, deciding that I might
as well go downstairs, I rose and made my way to the living room. I could
hear Skinner in the kitchen and wandered in that direction. I came around
the corner and every bit of breath was sucked from my lungs when I saw him.
Wow. I mean... WOW! He'd dressed all right. In jeans. That's all. No
shirt, no shoes, no socks. Just those damn jeans. I'd seen him without his
shirt once. 'Course, that wasn't one of the better nights of my life, but
still, I'd never forgotten the sight. And now... well, damn.
He turned and, noticing my slack-jawed stare, grinned and leaned back
against the counter. That was when I noticed that the button at his waist
was unfastened and that his zipper was not quite closed.
Whatever that lady had been cooking in her basement had been good shit. I
made a mental note to strike up a friendship with her as soon as possible.
But, in the meantime...
"You dressed, and I must add that I use the term very lightly, that way
deliberately, didn't you?" I asked him, still staring in fascination at all
that... all that... I know I'm repeating myself here but... wow.
His head tilted back and he looked at me from under lowered lids.
I cleared my throat and swallowed. I eyed him again, then smiled. "I see."
"Do you?"
Jesus. Who the hell was this guy? Certainly not the Skinner I knew. I
sent my disbelief to the basement and locked the door.
"Oh yeah," I answered. "Definitely getting the picture here. I only hope
you have smelling salts on hand, because Mulder's gonna pass out cold once
he gets the picture."
A mental picture of Mulder swooning brought a gleeful smile to my lips.
Alex grinned at me and we broke into laughter again.
After a moment, Alex looked past me at the coffee and raised a brow. "Is
that ready yet?"
"Yeah," I said. "You need cream or sugar?"
He shook his head, so I poured two cups and carried them to the table. I
turned back and gave him an appraising look. "How's the arm this morning?"
He shrugged. "Not bad."
"And the hand?"
That got a grimace. "A little sore."
"Hmm." A little sore probably meant it hurt like hell. "Wait here, I'm
going to get you another painkiller and a couple of antibiotics."
I went upstairs and collected the pills, the gauze and the burn ointment.
When I got back to the kitchen, he was still standing where I'd left him,
staring into space. His expression reminded me of the look on Mulder's face
when he was working on a particularly puzzling case.
I set my supplies on the table and crossed to him. Starting a bit at my
approach, Alex watched me closely. Almost, but not quite touching him, I
stopped and stared at him seriously. "Are you all right with this?"
A grin spread across his face. "With your evil and salacious plan, you
mean?"
I nodded.
"I don't have a problem in the world with it, Walt." He leaned toward me
and raised his face to mine.
"That's good," I whispered as I rested my hands on his hips and bent forward
to let my lips touch his. I tasted him slowly, savoring the softness of his
lips, the warm puff of air that ghosted across my mouth when he exhaled
heavily. I raised my head. "What about Mulder?"
His eyes opened slowly, and he stared at me dazedly. "What about him?" He
finally asked.
I smiled; this was going very well. "You don't have a problem with him
either?"
"Nope."
"And, he with us?" I asked.
"Well, at the very least, we'll find out exactly how open to extreme
possibilities the Fox actually is."
I grinned and kissed him again, then turned to grab a glass of water for the
pills, and a straw. "C'mon and sit down. Take your pills and drink your
coffee, then I'll put cream on your hand and rebandage it."
He frowned at the pills when I held them out to him. "Just what kind of
pain pills are you feeding me?"
"Tylenol three, that's all. Now, open up and swallow the damn things."
He did as I asked, reluctantly. Once the pills were down, I transferred the
straw to his coffee and sat down.
"So, Walt, do we have a game plan?"
He grinned. "I have a couple of ideas, Alexei. Let's wait and see what
happens when he gets here."
I looked down at my arm and frowned. "You wouldn't by chance have a shirt I
could borrow, would you?"
"You cold?"
"No, Walt. I'm missing an arm, in case you hadn't noticed."
He shrugged. "If you really want a shirt, I'll scrounge something up for
you, but that half-naked look really works on you. The arm doesn't bother
me, and I don't think Mulder will even take much notice of it."
"Okay, if you think it's best, I'll manage."
"Good," he smiled. He looked at his watch and stood up. "Come on, Alex,
let's set the scene. He'll be here soon."
We went into the living room, and Walt directed me to sit on the sofa. He
sat next to me and rebandaged my hand. Such a large man... such a gentle
man. It had been so very long since anyone had shown me any compassion,
that I was close to melting.
Once the bandaging was done, he kissed me again and arranged me on the
middle cushion of the couch. I would be the second thing Mulder saw when he
arrived and I just couldn't wait to see the look on his face. I'd wanted
Mulder since the first time I laid eyes on him, and Skinner... well, once
you've seen him in full AD mode he's just about the sexiest thing going.
And that body. I eyed the expanse of his chest and licked my lips.
"Do you think this'll work?" I asked him.
"Mulder's an odd one, Alexei. He suppresses his sexual urges through
violence and insolence. I think he'll go for it—if we handle him right."
"Um, Walt, maybe you should know that I haven't done the threesome thing."
"Not to worry. We'll work it out. Besides, if I'm wrong about Mulder it'll
just be the two of us."
Oh. Well... 'Just the two of us'... I liked the sound of that. I liked it
a lot! Either way, I was gonna get the chance to bed at least one of the
two men I'd been lusting after all these years.
The doorbell rang and Skinner smiled. "It's showtime."
I paced indecisively in the hallway outside Skinner's door for several
minutes, thinking furiously. Hell, I didn't know what was going on but...
shit, the two of them giggling like teenagers? Sharing a bed? Skinner
winking at Krycek? Krycek the hero—running into a burning building to
rescue a child?
This, I decided, was most assuredly looking like a genuine, bonafide X-File.
And, that being the case, my duty lay clear before me.
I rang the doorbell, holding the coffee in one hand and a bag of cinnamon
rolls in the other, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Skinner opened
the door, standing back and rubbing one hand across his bare chest. Whoa.
For a moment I just stood there dumbly, remembering the last time I'd seen
him dressed—well, okay, if you want to be technical about it... undressed—like this.
"Mulder," he stepped back to let me in.
His movement jolted me out of my trance. I swallowed heavily and thrust the
cardboard tray and bag of rolls into his hands. "Uh, here, sir. Breakfast,
as ordered."
With a nod, Skinner took the items and crossed to the couch where Krycek
sat. I looked at my nemesis and... Well, hell. I was in trouble here. Big
trouble. The rat had on pajama bottoms. That's all. No shirt, no shoes,
no socks... no arm. And, he looked almost vulnerable. Kind of shy, you
know? Those indecently long lashes shielded his eyes as he glanced at me
sideways, and I gulped.
Shit.
Trying to salvage the situation, I shrugged nonchalantly and walked into the
room. "Hello, Krycek."
"Alexei," Skinner rumbled at me disapprovingly.
Krycek dipped his head to hide his rising blush, and I... Wait a minute!
Blush? He was blushing! What in the hell was going on around here? Who
were these men? Most important of all, why was I here? If they were doing
what I strongly suspected they were doing, the last thing they needed was
yours truly in the way. Skinner could have stopped my visit with a very few
well-chosen words and we all knew it. Why then had he told me to come over?
And bring food?
I concentrated on all of the questions crowding my brain and ruthlessly
quashed that inner voice that kept trying to remind me of how much I'd
always wanted Skinner: of the way Krycek had always been able to get to me:
of my complete inability to control my reactions to the bastard. Of my own
loneliness and need.
Nope—I would definitely not think about why I suddenly felt left out in
the cold. Alone again and all that shit.
"Alex is fine," Krycek offered softly in that husky voice made even deeper
by smoke damage. He looked up at me and smiled hesitantly. "Morning,
Mulder. What did you bring for breakfast?" He grinned. "Walt and I are
starving."
Walt?
I looked over at Krycek, er, Alex. "Hazelnut coffee and cinnamon rolls," I
said blankly, still trying to comprehend the situation. They couldn't
really have... Could they?
"Sir," I turned my head to look at Skinner. "What is going on here? I
mean, you and Kry... Alex, aren't um... well, you know."
Skinner raised his brows at me in polite enquiry. "Aren't, um, what,
Mulder?"
Bastard.
"Did you really sleep with him last night?"
Krycek seemed to suddenly find the pant leg of his pajamas to be the most
fascinating thing he'd ever seen. I stared at him suspiciously.
"Walt."
"Huh?" I asked brilliantly.
'Walt' shrugged. "Mulder, if you're in my home on a Saturday morning asking
me personal questions I think we can forego the formalities." He set the
cardboard tray on the coffee table and indicated that I should sit at one
end of the couch. "And, yes, we did sleep in the same bed last night."
I opened my mouth to ask the obvious next question, but he stopped me when
he continued. "No, Mulder, we didn't have sex. We just slept."
"Oh." I took a seat on the edge of the couch, resting my hands
uncomfortably on my knees. Krycek was so close that I could feel his
warmth, and I shifted back into the corner of the couch. "Why?"
"Why what?" Skinner asked as he put my coffee in front of me, and added
Krycek's as an afterthought.
"Um..." Shit! This was not going at all well. "Why did you sleep with
him?"
"Because he was injured and shocky, and I wanted to keep a close eye on
him." Damn him, Skinner sounded so fucking reasonable I wanted to scream.
"Alex burned his hand badly last night so we'll have to help him eat."
"We will?" Mind like a steel trap, that's me.
"Yes," Skinner said in an uncompromising manner. "We will."
Krycek, the bastard, looked like he was going to bust out laughing any
minute. I glared at him, then tuned my attention to Skinner. "Please
explain to me why we are feeding the man who murdered my father, was
implicated in Scully's abduction by Duane Barry—whom he most likely then
killed, assisted in an attempt on Scully's life which resulted in the death
of her sister, stole the digital tape..." I glared at Krycek. "Allowed me
to be used as a test subject in a prison camp in Russia..."
"Because his hand is burned and he can't do it himself."
"But, sir—"
"Walt."
Have I mentioned how that oh so fucking reasonable tone of voice Skinner
uses to such great effect makes me want to scream the house down? Well, it
fucking does!
"Fine," I said through clenched teeth. "Walt, this man—"
Skinner sighed and leaned over to pick up Krycek's coffee offering him a sip
with such care I felt a bolt of jealousy sear through me. "Mulder," he said
patiently—patient was almost as maddening as reasonable, in case you
were wondering. "I know exactly who and what Alexei is. Can you say the
same?"
I opened my mouth to say... hell, I had no idea how to respond to that
one.
"You do?" Krycek looked at Skinner and frowned.
"Alex," Skinner met his eyes then looked at me. "I think it's time you tell
Mulder here why you've been hiding out in the ghetto."
Krycek mumbled something as he shifted closer to Skinner. I caught the word
'contract' but no more.
"What?" I asked.
Krycek... Alex sighed and closed his arm protectively around his middle.
"Because Spender has a contract out on my life."
Skinner—dammit, Walt—nodded. "Now tell him why."
"Because you're alive. I didn't kill you."
Huh? "Didn't kill who?" I asked.
"All of you," Krycek said reluctantly. "Just like baseball, Mulder. Three
strikes, you know? I didn't kill Scully, strike one. I didn't kill you,
strike two. And," he looked into my eyes; "I wouldn't kill Skinner...
strike three."
Narrowing my eyes, I glared at him. "You don't really expect me to
believe—"
"Shit, Mulder, I don't expect one single godamned thing from you." Krycek
rose awkwardly to his feet. "Fuck! You know I..." he moved away from the
sofa and turned to face us both. "He was not your father, and if I hadn't
killed him when I did he'd have told you everything and then you'd have
been killed."
I stared at him, open-mouthed. I might learn truths here. I could see it
in his face. A face I'd hated and lusted after at the same time for years.
A face I wished I'd never seen. A face that had actually helped me on
occasion, and lied to me the rest of the time.
"Alexei," Skinner growled, "leave it."
Krycek shook his head "No, Walt. Now's as good a time as any for this."
He turned to meet my eyes again. "I had nothing to do with Scully's
abduction. I did keep you from becoming an abductee that day, though."
"How?" I asked, fascinated with this new, restless, relentless harbinger of
possible truths.
"You were the target, Mulder. If you'd gotten up to Skyland, they'd have
taken you. I couldn't let that happen." He frowned and looked away from
me. "As for Duane Barry... I didn't kill him any more than I killed Melissa
Scully; but you know that, don't you?" He met my eyes and I could see real
pain in his expression. "In Russia... in Russia, you dumb fuck, I almost
had us out of there free and clear when you had to..." He blinked, his eyes
suspiciously bright. "Fuck you, Mulder. Go home. This was a bad idea."
I stared silently as he turned and headed for the stairs. "I'll be
upstairs, Walt," he said quietly.
Skinner rested his head against the back of the couch. "Mulder, why the
hell is everything so damned complicated with you?" He asked the ceiling.
"Okay, look, maybe I was wrong. If so, I apologize. You go on home and do
whatever it is you do in your free time."
"You're going to..?"
He straightened and sighed. "I don't know, Mulder. After this, I just
don't know anymore."
I swallowed. "Sir... um, Walt, why did you let me come here this
morning?"
He shook his head tiredly. "Because I thought, apparently mistakenly, that
you wanted us as much as we wanted you."
We? Us?
They wanted me? Uh oh. I began to get the picture and my part in it wasn't
pretty. I grimaced. "Sir... how can you justify this?"
With a snort, Skinner rose to his feet. "Justify?" He repeated in a
disbelieving voice. "Go home, Mulder. Leave my conscience to me. Just...
go on home."
I shook my head in confusion. "But I—"
He bent down to grab his and Krycek's coffees. "I'm going upstairs to check
on Alex now, Mulder." He turned to leave the room.
I put one hand on his arm. "I don't... I'm not sure..." Dammit, Mulder,
spit it out already "I don't know what to do," I finally said helplessly.
One warm hand came to rest on my shoulder. "It is what it is, Mulder," he
said quietly. "No more, no less. I want him. I always have. I've wanted
you too, but I'll not let your fucking morals stop me from having what I
can." He shrugged and dropped his hand form my shoulder. "I apologize for
making you uncomfortable with this. I made a mistake."
"It's not so much that I'm uncomfortable..." I said softly. "I'm..."
"You're what?"
"I'm afraid, okay? The idea scares me to death. What if he—" My words
tumbled over themselves in a confused jumble. "Everyone leaves me, sir.
Everyone dies. I can't let myself care for him... for you that way. It
would make it so much worse when—"
The hand on my shoulder tightened. "Mulder, for an intelligent man you can
be so damned stupid," he sighed and released his hold on me. "Don't you
already care for both of us? What are gonna do, hmmm? Spend your entire
life in splendid isolation?"
I shrugged uncomfortably and wrapped my arms around my torso.
He looked at me for a moment. "Mulder..." With a heavy sigh he turned to
the stairs. "I'm going up. Alex needs me."
So do I
I stood silent and watched him leave the room.
Lying in Walt's bed, wrapped in the heavy comforter, I stared sightlessly at
the wall. What the hell had I been thinking anyway? To think that Mulder
might want me, might actually be willing to look beyond the obvious... I was
a fool. For whatever reason, Mulder had never been able or willing to look
at my true motives. I sighed and curled more tightly around myself.
I heard a movement behind me and closed my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Alex."
Skinner walked over and sat on the bed next to me. Reluctantly, I opened my
eyes and looked up at him. "Don't be," I said rustily. "I should have
known better. He'll never..."
"He's afraid, Alex."
Well, I could understand that. I offered Walt a weak smile and moved back a
little, hoping he'd take the hint. "We're all afraid, doesn't he know
that?"
He lay down beside me and pulled me into his arms. It was heaven. God, he
was so big and warm and he made me feel... unafraid. I breathed in shakily
and burrowed my head into his wide shoulder. I wanted to cry. I really
did. I mean, this whole situation was so fraught with emotions and needs and
desires that I was fast losing my tenuous control of my own feelings. It
was so damned confusing—and so fucking painful—that I just wanted to sob
until that comfortable numbness that came after a good crying jag descended.
Of course, I couldn't do that. Hell, I hadn't cried since the night my own
father handed me over to that smoking bastard's "care". Over twenty years
ago, that had happened. I'd cried that night for the last time. No more
childhood for Alexei after that...
"Shh," Skinner soothed me. He rubbed my back with one large hand and with
the other he stroked my hair. "This was my fault, Alex... I thought he
might just be ready to admit..."
I choked out a laugh. "So did I, Walt. So did I."
Pulling me even closer, he lifted my chin so that our eyes could meet. "I
really am sorry to have put you through that little scene, Alex." He
shrugged and a slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Are you
okay?"
My arm moved across his chest and I let my bandaged hand touch his neck.
"I'm getting there, Walt. We'll be fine," I said, suddenly wanting to offer
him comfort. "After all, you did say that if he said no... um, that you...
that we..." I stumbled to silence, caught by the gentle gleam in his
eyes.
"Mmmhmm," he rumbled. "Indeed I did."
Oh my. Suddenly, I felt much better. All was not lost after all—I might
want Mulder, but here was Skinner offering me... so much more than I'd ever
expected. "Just the two of us," I repeated his earlier words with a grin.
A faint noise reached me from the hallway and I—I'm a little embarrassed
to admit this—I buried my face in Skinner's shoulder and closed my eyes
again.
"Yes, Mulder?" Skinner asked quietly.
"I ah... I wanted to talk to Kry, um, Alex."
I took a deep breath and rolled to my back. "Go ahead then," I said
wearily, careful not to meet his eyes.
He cleared his throat and looked at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said
quietly. "I didn't mean to... I mean I was kind of... ah, hell." He rubbed
one hand across his eyes and looked at me. "This whole thing really threw
me off balance, you know? I... " He sighed. "It scares me, Alex."
"It scares me too, Mulder," I said softly. "But, the way I see it, there's
no point in running now. I mean, I've admitted that I want both of you.
That was the hard part. The rest..." I grinned. "The rest should be
easy. Not to mention fun."
Skinner snorted. "You calling me easy, Alexei?"
"I think he's calling you fun, sir." Mulder sounded like he just might be
willing to get with the program now.
"Walt."
Mulder gulped. "Sorry, si... Walt."
"Mulder," Walt sighed. "Would you just relax already? We're not gonna jump
you, you know."
"Maybe that's the problem," he mumbled.
I laughed. Well, okay, I giggled. Mulder appeared to be quite amazed at
the sight. That, of course, only increased my problem. Thing is, I have
this annoying tendency to snort when my laughter gets out of hand. When I
did just that, Mulder's mouth dropped open.
Then Skinner lost it. He has the most amazing laugh. Deep and booming, it
shook the bed under us. That was what finally got to Mulder. His lips
twitched, then a reluctant smile spread across his face. Pretty soon, he
was bent over, laughing so hard I was afraid he might fall on his face.
Stumbling a bit, Mulder made his way to the end of the bed and sat down. I
caught my breath. Did this mean what I thought it meant? My giggles wound
down and I lay quietly, just watching him. Waiting for him to say
something, do something, anything that might give me a clue as to what he
was going to do next.
He sobered and turned to face us. "Um... maybe I should warn you that I've
never... ah, well..."
Oh shit. "Mulder," I asked apprehensively. "Please tell me you're not
straight." Jesus, wouldn't that be a kick in the ass?
Skinner snorted but didn't voice the comment that was obviously just begging
to fly free.
Shaking his head, Mulder smiled. "You must know me better that that, Alex.
All the time you've spent near me, you've got to have figured out that I'm
bi."
Phew.
"Okay, so, what is this warning about then?" Not entirely sure I could ever
be ready for his answer, I held his gaze and did my best to not fidget while
he gathered his words.
"Ah, well... I've been with men, and women. But not at the same time and
not in crowds."
"I see." I shrugged. "Well, like I told Walt earlier, I've never actually
done the threesome thing myself."
We both turned to look at Walt.
He smiled.
We waited.
He smiled some more.
Bastard.
Finally, I nudged him with my shoulder. "Well?" I asked him.
He raised his eyebrows and managed to look oh so innocent. Hah. Innocent
my ass!
"Wa-alt," I groaned. "Tell us."
"Tell you what?"
I looked to Mulder for help. He blushed a little, but manfully forced the
words out. "Have you ever, um... done this?"
His smile widened even more and he settled himself more comfortably against
the pillows, arms lifted, hands behind his head. "Well," he drawled,
"obviously I haven't done this specifically..."
"How about generally, then?" Mulder asked with a slight smile.
He was definitely getting into the spirit of the thing. Now, if we could
just get him to— "So, Mulder," Skinner asked, "you gonna climb in here with us, or what?"
Oh
"Oh." Mulder looked at Walt then at me. And smiled. Standing up, he
removed his shirt and toed off his shoes.
Well, now. Things were certainly looking up here. I grinned at Walt.
Mulder finished with his shoes and socks and stood at the foot of the bed
looking at us uncertainly. "Where do I... I mean, um..."
Good old Walt. He shifted over a bit and patted the spot between us.
"Right here, Agent Mulder. Where I can keep a close eye on you."
Wow. I wouldn't have thought it possible for Mulder to turn quite that
shade of red. It was a good look for him, I must say.
The laughter had helped to relax me. Now, though, with both of them
watching me so expectantly, I felt my earlier nervousness returning. In the
middle... Damn. Between Skinner and Krycek.
Wow.
With an indrawn breath, I awkwardly clambered up onto the bed and settled
myself against the pillow Skinner, um, Walt, had propped up against the
headboard for me. Then I lay there not quite sure what to expect next.
"You know," Alex said with a smirk, "if anyone had tried to tell me
yesterday that I'd be in this position today, I'd have probably shot him."
Skinner snorted. "A little extreme don't you think, Alex?"
Krycek shrugged and lifted himself a little to look over at Walt. "So, you
never did tell us, Walt. Have you ever been with more than one person at
the same time?"
"Nope."
"Oh." Krycek frowned. "So, essentially, none of us has any idea what to do
next."
"Well," Skinner smiled, "between the three of us, I'm sure we have enough
experience to fumble our way through this."
Fumble being the operative word no doubt. I sighed, and turned to look at
Alex. Tentatively, I lifted one hand to touch his face. His eyelids
drooped, shuttering his expression. That was okay, though. His suddenly
labored breathing, not to mention the way his chin tilted encouraging my
exploration, told me that he didn't mind a bit.
Then Skinner touched me. He trailed his fingers up my arm and then rubbed
his palm across my chest and I forgot to breathe. Oh boy. That man has the
largest warmest hands! I'd been fantasizing about them for years. Can't
help it, I have a thing about hands. Always have. And, Skinner's are
definitely in my top ten list. In fact, now that I think about it... his
hands are probably in the number one spot.
Krycek watched the movement of Walt's hand, then smiled down at me.
"Mulder, breathe," he whispered.
I did. And he kissed me in reward.
Talk about forgetting to breathe. Damn. Krycek doesn't need any weapons.
He really should consider just kissing his enemies into submission. By the
time he drew back I couldn't have defended myself from a two-year-old. I
lay there panting; a limp mass of flesh, while Krycek traced patterns across
my face with his fingertips and Skinner's warm hand caressed my torso.
What the hell had I been thinking? Jesus, I'd almost climbed up on my high
horse and ridden away from all of this. I moaned at the thought of what I'd
might have missed.
"I've been watching your mouth for years now, Mulder." Oh. My. God. If
Skinner had ever used that voice on me at work... Well, suffice it to say
he'd probably still have all that hair he yanked out in frustrated anger
over my arguing with him.
One finger carefully outlined my lips with fire. I was so distracted by
that damned finger that I didn't even notice Walt moving closer until he
captured my mouth with his own. And that was it for me. Bye-bye brain. I
groaned and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him closer as I opened my
mouth to let his tongue in.
And, Krycek was nibbling on my shoulder and neck while Skinner explored the
recesses of my mouth. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to climb right
inside of them... both of them.
One of my hands was busy exploring the planes of Walt's back, and ran into
the waistband of his jeans. Impatient with the obstruction, I pulled my
mouth away from his and frowned at him.
"Take 'em off," I ordered. Well, I tried to make it an order. The
breathless quality of my voice probably detracted from my commanding tone.
Whatever... it worked. He smiled and rolled to his back, reaching for his
zipper. I immediately sat up and swatted his hands away.
"We'll do it," Alex said from behind me.
I turned my head we exchanged a grin. Once he'd moved down to the foot of
the bed, I unzipped Walt's jeans and we slowly peeled them off of him.
Damn. Old Walt is really something! His legs go on forever and ever. And,
muscles... Damn, his legs should be a national monument to something or
another.
I couldn't decide where to start. Then, I just shrugged and followed
Krycek's lead. We each worked our way up the outside of a leg with our
mouths and hands. By the time we reached his hips, Walt was breathing
rather quickly. He groaned in momentary protest when we stopped, then
sighed happily when we turned our attention to the insides of his knees and
thighs.
Alex reached the apex of Walt's thighs and started nuzzling at his heavy
balls. I stopped to watch in amazement as Skinner writhed and moaned under
his skilled care. Damn.
I couldn't tell you exactly how it happened, but suddenly my jeans were
unfastened and Walt was tugging at them impatiently. I didn't even
hesitate. I pulled them off and tossed them onto the floor without a second
thought. As I turned back, I noticed that Alex still had his pajama trousers
on.
That was no good. I looked at Walt, then at the offending garment still
decorating Alex. Skinner grinned and we wrestled him to the bed and
stripped him. That Alex is a beautiful man. Really, truly beautiful. His
amputated arm somehow seems to add to his attractiveness. Don't ask me why...
maybe because it's a vulnerability he seldom allows anyone to see.
Actually, I was more than a little touched that he trusted us enough to be
so comfortable with his weakness revealed.
Walt took up a position on one side of Alex, and I stretched out along the
other. We petted and stroked him until he was a wreck. What a responsive
lover he turned out to be! Every touch drew a moan or a sigh; he even
purred a time or two. It was a most gratifying sight.
I was nibbling at his soft lips when he gasped and arched up. Turning my
head, I saw that Skinner had swallowed his cock to the root. I'd have been
quite satisfied to lay there and enjoy the show, but Alex had other ideas.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled my head down so he could kiss
me.
Sorry, did I say kiss me? Devour me would be much more descriptive. I
truly don't think I'd ever experienced anything quite like that kiss. His
tongue pushed into my mouth demanding complete surrender, which I gave
unconditionally. I'll bet he could have drawn you a detailed diagram of my
mouth after that kiss. Embarrassingly premature ejaculation was a real
concern to me by the time he finally released me.
I dropped my head and chewed distractedly on his neck while trying to
recover my control. Groaning and panting from Skinner's attentions and mine
Krycek tossed his head restlessly.
He was so much fun to play with; I just can't even begin to tell you how
much. My lips traveled down his throat to the juncture of neck and
shoulder. I stopped there for a bit, alternately sucking and licking at him.
Judging by the response, that is a definite hot spot for Alex.
"Fuck," he hissed. "Jesus, you're gonna kill me."
Skinner chuckled around his mouthful of cock. I'm assuming that it felt
pretty damn good, because Alex shouted and every muscle in his body went
rigid.
"Ohmygod," he... well, I'd say he whimpered, but that really wouldn't fit
his macho image. So, let's say he groaned the words. Yeah, that's it, he
groaned. "Please stop... pleasedon'tmakemecomeyet."
Taking pity on the poor guy, Walt lifted his head and studied Krycek's
flushed face. "What do you want, Alex?"
The question seemed to strike Alex dumb with surprise. I wondered if anyone
had ever shown him any consideration in bed before this.
Green eyes opened impossibly wide, Alex looked at me and then at Mulder. He
honestly didn't seem to have any idea what to say. The mute appeal in his
eyes was the very last expression I ever thought I'd see in Krycek's face.
My cock jumped in response.
He swallowed audibly and opened his mouth to speak. "I want... I want..."
Pausing to gulp air, he met my eyes. "I want you to fuck me, Walt."
Mulder moaned.
Oh yeah, we were cooking with gas now.
"And you?" I looked at Mulder. "What do you want?"
He looked at Alex's cock and licked his lips.
Hmmm. I considered the possibilities, discarding several scenarios before
finally hitting on one I thought would work for us. I nodded and leaned
over to get a tube of lubrication from the bedside drawer.
They were watching me closely, obviously waiting for direction, so I
provided it. That's why I make the big money, I guess.
"Alex, on your knees." He obeyed with gratifying speed. I smiled and ran
one hand over his trembling flank. Boy was anxious.
"What about me?" Mulder pouted.
That damn lower lip of his could drive a saint to sin. Unable to resist, I
leaned over and gently tugged at it with my teeth. He sighed happily and
pressed his opened lips against mine. I leisurely tasted him, mapping his
mouth carefully with my tongue.
A soft touch on my erection broke my concentration, and I opened my eyes to
see Alex watching us as his fingers traced random patterns on my cock. He
smiled slowly at me and rubbed his thumb in the moisture collecting at the
very tip.
Damn. I held my breath for a moment, collecting my frayed control, then
looked at Mulder.
"You," I said huskily, "lay down. No, the other way, so that your head is
between Alex's legs."
"Oh." Mulder's eyes were almost completely black; his pupils so dilated
with arousal that only the barest ring of hazel was visible. He shifted
into the desired position and looked up for further instruction.
I couldn't help but grin. Never, in all the years I'd known him, had Mulder
been so eager to comply with my requests. I liked it. I liked it a lot.
"Give me your hand," I told Mulder. I squeezed a generous amount of lube
onto his fingers. "Now, get Alex ready for me."
With one hand on his shoulder in support, I urged Alex down until he rested
across Mulder's torso, bracing himself with one arm on Mulder's stomach.
They were an awe-inspiring sight.
Alex nuzzled at Mulder's pubic hair, gently pulling the curly strands with
his lips, while Mulder carefully used one, then two fingers to open him up.
When they were both breathing hard and moaning, I decided I'd better make my
move before I came just from watching and listening.
What did I ever do to deserve this? I still don't know the answer to that
one. I hope I figure it out soon, though. Whatever it was, I intend to do
it again and again.
Very, very carefully, I applied lube to my straining erection and moved up
until the head was pressing lightly at the entrance to Alex's body. He
moaned and pushed back towards me. Impatient kid. Gently, I let my hips
move, easing my way into his body a little at a time. Damn, he was like a
furnace inside. I clenched my teeth and prayed for control.
Then, he gasped and lurched forward. Looking down, I saw that Mulder had
opened his mouth and was sucking steadily at Alex's cock.
Damn. Suddenly, I was thrusting into him, unable to stop. All thoughts of
control went out the window as he moaned his response and moved in
counterpoint. My hands were moving restlessly over Alex's back, stroking
and scratching lightly. I needed a distraction of some kind. Anything to
make this last just a little longer...
My eyes followed the long line of Alex's back and fell upon the sight of him
sucking Mulder off. Oh god. That wouldn't do. The very sight brought me
to the edge. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, gasping for air.
Shit. I straightened in delighted surprise. Mulder's busy fingers were
suddenly investigating the texture of my ballsac. When they moved a bit to
stroke my perineum, I moaned and closed my hands on Alex's hips with
bruising force.
Damn.
"Shit!" I yelled. "Damn, Alex. You are so fucking hot, I—"
He shoved his hips back towards me forcefully and gave a muffled shout. His
sphincter tightened convulsively around me as he came.
I managed to hold on for all of three or four milliseconds before tumbling
over the edge myself. Holding his hips firmly in place, I poured myself
into the recesses of his body with a loud groan.
Mulder had started thrashing in the meantime. His hips arched up off of the
bed and he started begging. "God, Alex," he moaned. "Please let me come.
Please."
I leaned forward a bit to see exactly what had him in such a state, and
grinned. Krycek had closed his fingers firmly around the base of Mulder's
cock, refusing him the release he so desperately needed.
Damn, Mulder taste so fucking good. I'd have been happy to suck him all
day. Working my mouth up and down his cock, I hummed with contentment.
Vaguely, I heard him begging me to let him come, but I couldn't quite bring
myself to let him go yet. I tightened my hold, and continued to suck him
into my mouth, swallowing him completely every third or fourth stroke.
Every time I did that, he whined.
I loved it.
Walt nudged me aside and when I did as he asked, he leaned down and kissed
Mulder. Then, he slowly worked his way down the man's body, pausing to give
special attention to his nipples.
Mulder shuddered under the dual assault, and his begging continued unabated.
"Please, oh, damn... please let me come. Oh god, I can't stand it." He was
whimpering and thrashing and sweat rolled off of his body.
Damn, he's a gorgeous sight when he loses control.
Skinner slid down and moved one of Mulder's legs, bending it at the knee and
shoving it aside. With an evil little smirk, he ducked his head down and
started licking Mulder's balls.
"Oh, Fuu-uuck," Mulder panted. "Jesus, please letmecomenow!"
I raised a brow at Skinner in inquiry. He wet one finger and reached under
Mulder to rub at his asshole, then gave me a nod. I took a deep breath,
released my hold and swallowed Mulder's cock whole.
"Shit! Fuck! YES!"
Mulder arched up, every muscle in his body trembling, and I felt the
contractions begin. I continued to work him until the spasms had stopped,
then let his cock slip from my mouth.
"Oh my god," Mulder moaned. "I think you've killed me."
Skinner smiled and pinched his ass.
"Hey!" Mulder protested half-heartedly.
"If you can still talk, you're not dead, Mulder."
"Fuck you, Skinner," Mulder said, still somewhat breathless.
"Mmmm," Skinner rumbled. "Maybe next time. I'm too tired right now, you
boys wore me out."
Next time? My breathing quickened at the implication. Wow... next
time, indeed.
Walt collapsed onto the bed and groaned. "I think a short nap is in order,"
he said sleepily.
Mulder rolled onto his side and snuggled back into Skinner's warmth. He
sighed happily and looked up at me.
"C'mere," he murmured, holding one arm up. I lay down beside him and he
pulled me close, resting his head on my shoulder. His arm closed around my
waist and he closed his eyes.
For the longest time, I just lay there, listening to them breath,
remembering the past few hours. Damn. I still couldn't believe it.
Shitfire, I'd have run into a hundred burning buildings for this. For even
a fraction of what we'd shared this morning. It had been the most
incredible encounter of my life.
And, continuously running through my brain was the sound of Walt saying,
"next time".
Next time...
With that promise ringing in my ears, I fell asleep.
Rescue Me
Rescue me
Morning Variations III
by Jennie
Rescue Me
Fontenella Bass
(C. Smith—R. Miner)
Take me in your arms
Rescue me
I want your tender charm
'Cause I'm lonely
And I'm blue
I need you
And your love too
Come on and rescue me
