Not a problem, you might think. He was always such an irritating presence in
my life. Turning up in the oddest places, and always managing to upset my
plans. I should be glad that he was gunned down in his apartment one night.
Surely he could see that all of his interference was dangerous, that he was
upsetting the wrong men..... I guess not. In a few brief moments, all of that
potential, all of that brilliance was gone forever.
Well, not exactly.......
It turns out that the laws of the universe have a few odd little quirks. If
you kill a guy's father and he holds a grudge like no other ever did......
Then he comes back as a ghost!
Yeah. Mulder's ghost haunts me. During the hours of darkness, he makes his
appearance and follows me about my business, making the occasional sarcastic
remark, and trying to act like the moral guardian of the whole world. How
many professional assassins could put up with the things I have to bear? Not
many. Of course, no-one else but me can see him, which makes for some
interesting times in my life. My professional colleagues have begun to tread
carefully around me, even more paranoid than they used to be, because they
think I'm going insane.
Insanity is, of course, relative. Killing is a profession well accustomed to
madmen. It may even help. Look how many certifiable nuts get elected to
public office around the world.
I could never be sure I was alone, and when my personal phantom did make an
appearance, it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut, even in public. I
didn't particularly want a room in a mental hospital. The one thing that
continued to perplex me was that Mulder, my avowed enemy, had twice saved my
life.
Why did I have to get the world's most irritating and provoking F.B.I. agent
as my own, personal ghost?
Tonight was fairly typical. The first sign that he was there was the bright
pinpoints of his eyes, showing up against the pale coverlet of my bed in the
latest of my anonymous, hotel rooms. Slowly, the rest of him materialised,
and I saw that he was lying back, relaxed, hands behind his head. He grinned
disconcertingly.
"Busy tonight?" he asked curiously.
As if he didn't know I had a job to do tonight. That was the thing with
Mulder He loved making me feel uncomfortable. He knew I got nervous before a
hit, and anything he could do to make things worse....., you guessed it....,
he did.
Like his latest trick of appearing suddenly right up close to me at
unexpected moments. The first time he had tried it, I had leapt feet into the
air, and he had chuckled appreciatively. The fact that I had been in a
somewhat delicate situation at the time delighted him. My hand had been
wrapped around my cock and I had been enthusiastically jerking off, then a
maliciously grinning face had appeared inches above my face
"Boo!" it said.
I had been so unnerved, I swear I levitated off the bed, and my cock had gone
completely limp with shock. I cursed him loudly in three languages. None of
which bothered him at all. He had made me react twice more since then, once
when I was almost asleep, and once, humiliatingly, when I was using the john.
"Just so you don't get too relaxed, Krycek!" he had quipped, ignoring my
curses.
I hate him.
But tonight, paradoxically, I was glad he was there. That's the thing about
working alone so much. No one can be trusted, not if you want to stay alive.
At least Mulder could be trusted to keep my secrets to himself. And he seemed
to care what happened to me. Sometimes. Maybe he had figured out that if I
died, I was going to catch up with him and beat the hell out of him!
I moved through the crowd like the predator I was. None of the delegates at
the security conference knew what I was, so it was easy to blend in with the
crowd. I wore my geek clothes, and I looked like one of the many hackers who
were in attendance, whose sole purpose in life was to check out the latest in
computer security, probably in order to circumvent it. The scent of paranoia
was in the air. Justifiably, since I was here to kill one of them.
My employers had been annoyed to find that their computer system had been
broken into, and some sensitive information had been downloaded. But the
hacker had been careless in covering his tracks, and he had been traced. The
man named James P. Boyd was about to die!
I watched my target, as he headed for the men's room. The stupid Mr. Boyd,
spotty nerd, was easy to locate. His computer, which I destroyed an hour ago
when I burned his house down this afternoon, had contained a lot of material
on government conspiracy theories and it was easy to predict which
conferences he would attend. Easy to spot. Even easier to kill. I followed
him into the men's room. Silently I closed the door behind me and pulled my
knife out. The nerd didn't even notice me behind him. I hefted my knife and
moved towards him.
Something large and metallic crashed unexpectedly into my shin, tripping me
and I fell onto my ass on the tiled floor. The nerd swung round, caught sight
of the knife on the floor next to me and fled. Shit! I think I'd twisted my
ankle. Time to get out of there before the little creep called the cavalry
in....
"Oops! Sorry... I seem to have knocked the trash over!" Mulder materialised,
grinning wickedly.
"You.... you.....!" Words failed me. I finally muttered something filthy to
him in Russian. I headed for the exit, only to see the nerd pointing me out
to a couple of cops outside. Thinking fast, I jammed the door shut using the
upended trash can and made a hasty escape through the back window. Damn
Mulder! He'd ruined my hit! Then I paused and thought about it again. How
exactly had he done that?
The desire for a hot shower to ease the ache in my leg soon drove it out of
my mind. And later, a few vodkas, for medicinal purposes.....
Mulder studied the sleeping Alex. He didn't know why he liked being near
Alex. They had always been enemies, and their views of the world were poles
apart. But Alex was so full of life. He burned with it, a firebrand of
energy, so that being close to him was almost like being alive again.
Maybe that's why he had taken so much trouble to annoy Alex. When those green
eyes blazed with fury, Mulder could feel a part of himself answering, an echo
of life that sent a flood of strength through him. In fact, he thought he was
strong enough now to interact with the world around him. At least, during the
night. During the day, he seemed to float in a disembodied limbo, only
occasionally aware of his surroundings, and certainly not able to control his
movements.
Hesitantly, he reached out a hand towards the coffee cup Alex had abandoned
on the nearby table and exerted all of his willpower. It was rather an
anticlimax. The cup lifted easily in his hand, and he felt the cool ceramic
surface beneath his finger.
Incredible!
How could he have forgotten the pleasure of tactile sensation so soon. As
ghost, he had felt little for months, bare fragments of what he remembered
from life. And now, to have touch back again.....
Adventurously, he prodded the table, and found that he could control the
solidity of his hand. Then he grinned in exhilaration. This was more like it!
If he could interact with the world, he could do so much more. It was only
limited by proximity to Alex.
Curious now, he hesitantly reached his hand out to his sleeping "partner."
Alex felt solid and warm, and Mulder watched as his hand slowly rose and fell
with the movement of Alex's chest beneath it. The nearer he got to Alex, the
stronger he was
Mulder felt alive.
Slowly he traced his finger along the smooth flesh, feeling the tiny changes
in texture beneath it, as he stroked Alex. His finger approached the darker
rosy nipple, and he found himself lost in wonder as he felt it rise and come
alive under his touch, filling with blood and hardening to prominence. Alex
heaved a small breathy sigh in his sleep. Again experimentally, Mulder leaned
over and lowered his tongue to the small mound, tasting it and running his
tongue across it, sucking it gently. Mulder tasted the slight salt tang of
Alex's skin, again an incredible sensation. He felt as though he were just
discovering the world again after a period of sensory deprivation. The small
nipple hardened further under his tongue.
Eager for more, Mulder traced his fingers further down Alex's body, until he
reached the sheet which lay across Alex's stomach, covering his lower boy.
Again, it was easy to tug it lower. Mulder felt stronger than he had ever
felt before, and didn't hesitate. The sheet glided down across Alex's hips
and exposed his quiescent cock and firm thighs. Mulder leaned closer and
found that he could even smell the faint musky scent of Alex's body.
It was dangerously addictive, this reminder of life.
Mulder continued his light caressing of Alex's body, enjoying the pure
pleasure of it. The way tiny goose-bumps rose across Alex's skin as his cool
hand passed over it. Too tempting. Then with an impulse he couldn't have
named, Mulder touched Alex's cock and watching the slow reddening as blood
began to flow into it as his hand skimmed lightly over its surface. Alex
muttered something incoherent, and moaned softly, his hips turning slightly
as he leaned into the caress. Mulder froze. What the hell was he doing?
He was almost making love to Krycek! Just for a moment, he had been on the
verge of leaning over and seeing whether the sense of taste he was
rediscovering extended to.....
The ratbastard who had killed his father!
He jerked his hand away as if he had been burned. What the hell was he
thinking? Alex made him feel alive, sure, but he was treating the younger man
more like a lover.... This was madness! He backed away, even now feeling a
strange reluctance. This was too good, this newly awakened awareness of life.
Mulder moved further away from Alex. He needed time to think. And as the
first rays of the dawn entered the room, he disappeared into the limbo of
daytime.
Where the hell had that come from? I had been having the strangest dream. The
touch of a lover was something I had little recent experience of. Life was
too dangerous. My last sexual partner betrayed me, and besides which, I could
just imagine Mulder's reaction.
I wouldn't be able to keep my mind on the proceedings with Mulder popping up
from nowhere to interrupt me. As he certainly would. Those brown eyes would
gleam wickedly, and he would probably begin a loud and very distracting
commentary on my performance. Mulder loved annoying me. Unless I found
someone who I could fuck in daylight. Though they tended to notice my arm
more readily and it was harder to find a more attractive man of the type I
preferred. Tall, beautiful and willing to let me take the lead.....
So why had I started to dream about Fox Mulder? Too long without sex,
probably. And what a dream! Mulder making love to me, almost tenderly.
When had I ever wanted Mulder? When had Mulder ever been interested in me?
Crazy!
My boss wasn't pleased. In fact he was furious. Apparently it had taken three
operatives a couple of days to pick up Mr. Nerd's trail after my failure.
Time enough for him to confide in one or two other sad bastards who also had
to be... sterilised. My boss the Englishman raged at me, using some favoured
Anglo Saxon expressions, one or two of which were new even to me. I filed
them away to use on Mulder later.
"Alex, you fucked up!" he snarled. I tried to look contrite. I could hardly
say that it wasn't me, it was Mulder... "I'm giving you another chance
though! Don't foul this up! I'll have a prisoner I want you to take to our
Pennsylvanian facility. Be at this address tomorrow to do a pick up." He
pushed a piece of paper across his desk towards me. "Now get out!"
Accompanied by the smirks of his two bodyguards, I fled.
Relatively painless, I suppose. I had expected a lot worse from the
Englishman. I wondered where the catch was. But I didn't have a lot of
choices; he was one of the few employers who still used my services. If I
fucked this up, then I would probably have to go solo. If I survived.
For once, the limbo that surrounded him was no shield against the turmoil of
his own mind. He alternately raged at Alex and his own stupidity. But in the
end, it all came down to something he was afraid to admit even to himself. He
wanted Alex. He needed Alex....
He wished he had the power to throw something, or hit something....
He longed for Alex. He wanted to touch him, to hold him..... Now he knew it
was possible, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He had lived with the man
for months now, and he had seen aspects of the young man's character that he
had never dreamed of. Yes he was amoral and murderer, but also desperately
lonely, with no one to turn to when life grew dangerous. No wonder it had
warped him...
A part of his mind also whispered that he only wanted Alex because there was
no one else....
I awaited Mulder's appearance that night with a tension that surprised me. He
was getting stronger, and more troublesome, and it had occurred to me that he
now had the ability to get me into a lot more trouble, if he wanted to. It
seemed he could now interact with the world. The way he had thrown that trash
can under my feet suggested he was more than just a spirit now.
I wished he would work with me, instead of against me.
With the coming of dusk, I glanced around, trying to spot him. Nothing. Not
even a flicker of a shadow. Mulder was like that. Never predictable. He might
not appear for hours, hoping to catch me off guard, damn him. Why did there
always have to be conflict between us? He was probably watching me right now,
laughing at me...
"Damn you, Mulder!" I growled at the empty room. "At least when you were
alive, I could fight back!"
A cloudiness appeared in the corner, which resolved itself within moments
into Mulder. He stared at me, for once silent and without making any
wisecracks. It was a little unnerving. In fact he did look different somehow,
more serious perhaps...
"I couldn't let you kill that man!" he said after the silence had stretched
to several uncomfortable minutes. I was on the verge of telling him what I
thought of him using a selection of choice expletives, but I hesitated.
Finally, I just told him the truth.
"You idiot!" I replied. "I would have made it quick and painless. Because of
you, he had time to tell his friends and then they had to die too!"
"Death isn't painless, Alex..."
It was the first time he had ever talked about his situation. I was curious,
despite my annoyance.
"What is it like?" I dared to ask. Something seemed to flicker across his
face, something sad...
"Lonely..." he whispered.
"Yeah?" I said. "You see me having much fun lately, Mulder? The only company
I've had in the last year tried to kill me, in case you didn't notice. The
only company apart from you, that is..."
Maybe it was getting to me tonight, the isolation I felt. Or maybe I'd just
been alone too long, Something just snapped within me. I grabbed the nearest
thing off the table, a bottle of vodka, and I threw it at him as hard as I
could. Then I was screaming incoherently at him, throwing everything I could
get my hands on.
"I'm sorry!" he said simply.
He watched me in silence, totally unaffected by anything I did. The missiles
I threw just went straight through him and hit the walls behind with a series
of crashes. Damn him! Damn him for taunting me! Damn him for fucking up my
life!
Damn him for dying!
The rage left me as suddenly as it had come and I sank back onto my couch, as
the pain welled up inside me. Was that what I'd been trying to hide from
myself for so long? Losing him before I'd ever got to.... to...
I think I realised then that I had cared about him. That I wanted him
still. I couldn't hide it from myself any more. I felt a betraying tear ease
its way down my cheek and flushed, trying to turn away so he wouldn't see.
Stupid! And pointless! When had loving Fox Mulder ever been an option for me?
And it was impossible now!
Alex was crying! Mulder watched, stunned, as the young man turned his face
away and pretended to be staring at something on the other side of the room.
But the light caught on something shiny that glittered on his cheek. His
image of the cold, heartless assassin was forever shattered now. Alex was as
lonely and miserable as he was.
Slowly, he moved forward until he stood before Alex, reached out one finger,
and brushed the glittering tear away from Alex's cheek. It hung suspended on
his finger for a moment, then he let it roll off his skin onto the floor. He
knew now from his experimentation that he could remain semi-solid for quite a
while now. Longer still when he was close to Alex.
Alex caught his breath, and stared incredulously at the droplet, before
turning his face upwards to meet Mulder's gaze. Hesitantly, Mulder extended
his hand, palm outwards to touch Alex. His hand rested gently on Alex's
chest, and he noted with a kind of wonder the slight bump of the nipple as it
hardened, the warmth he could feel, even through the light cotton t-shirt.
Alex gasped, his green eyes wide. He raised a shaking hand and touched
Mulder's fingers hesitantly. His hand met cool solidity.
"Oh!" he whispered wonderingly. For once, he looked more like that green
young agent Mulder remembered, and less like an assassin.
Before Mulder could think about it, he leaned forward, tilted Alex's chin
upwards and kissed him.
Being close to Alex when he was sleeping had been like being close to a
flame. The heat and energy of life had made Mulder feel almost alive himself.
But this.... Kissing Alex was like being close to the sun. A white heat that
set him on fire. Energy surged through him and he felt as though he could
move a mountain or jump a thousand miles into the air. He heard Alex moan
into his mouth, felt the young man's fingers clutch at his hair.
Mulder felt a thousand different sensations all at once. The taste of Alex's
mouth, soft and sweet with a hint of vodka, the slight roughness of his
tongue as it tangled with his own. Warmth that flowed through him,
unexpectedly delicious. And the way he moaned softly, his fingers tightening
as if he wanted to cling to Mulder for the rest of the night.
Finally, they broke apart, Alex panting heavily, though Mulder found that he
wasn't affected by such a human concern as breathing during a kiss
"I need to think about this...." Alex gasped. "Mulder..... " His eyes
reflected his confusion.
"Yeah!" Mulder nodded. " I know. Maybe if I leave you alone tonight..."
Oh God, never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined anything like that! I
could touch him! I could feel every caress, and the way his mouth had moulded
to mine...
Most incredible of all, was that he had wanted me! Why else would he kiss me?
Like that! With a tenderness that made the loneliness disappear for just a
short while... Yet strange too. Cooler than human, a strange texture to his
skin and hair that wasn't unpleasant, yet wasn't human either.
Whatever he was, whatever he'd become, my body liked it There was an ache
between my legs that had told me my cock had woken when he kissed me, and it
definitely approved of him. In fact, now I though of it, I was harder and
more ready than I had been for a long time. My hand went down to cover the
denim covered mound, and I was momentarily tempted to pull it out and
frantically jerk off to the memory of hazel eyes and a single, cool-fleshed
kiss.
I dragged my hand reluctantly away. No. That wasn't what I wanted at all. I
wanted something else. I wanted him, no matter how odd our relationship would
be. How unreal this was. Maybe I didn't want reality any more.
"You don't have to leave!" I said loudly to the invisible Mulder. "I.... I
want you to stay... I want you...
The first thing that materialised, I swear, was a big Cheshire Cat grin!
End of Ghost of a chance
Ghost of a chance
by Megaera
Fox Mulder is dead.
