"This is all your fault," Mulder sulked, sitting on the floor of his
kitchen, legs spraddled out before him limply.
Across the room from him, Krycek stared at the FBI agent in
astonishment. "MY fault!?" he squawked, "MY fault?!?! How the hell
is this mess MY fault?!"
Mulder pouted and folded his arms grumpily. "I don't know yet, but
I'm sure it is, all the same."
Alex Krycek gave him a disgusted look. "You moron."
"Don't call me a moron!" Mulder snapped, ire sparking in his hazel
eyes. "Bastard!"
"You are a moron," Krycek snapped back, sitting against the kitchen
wall, legs drawn up, arms limp at his sides. "Blaming me for this
fiasco. That's exactly what you are. A great, big, annoying,
infuriating, paranoid idiotic smartass imbecilic MORON!"
"I'm warning you, Krycek—" Mulder began irately, stirring
sluggishly to life, "—don't make me come over there and kick your
ass!"
"Well, come on, big boy!" Krycek taunted, green eyes gleaming. "Just
scoot yourself right over here and show me what's what!"
This was all the incentive Mulder needed. He launched himself at the
assassin, and the two rolled around the kitchen floor for a couple
of minutes, snarling and biting and pulling hair and landing kidney
punches and hurling insults crazed enough to make an inmate at
Bedlam blink.
Outside the window, pink fingers of light dawned faintly from over
the horizon, soft and serene and silent.
The two men scrabbled on the floor, rolling over one another until
they ran into the kitchen table. Mulder's head cracked against a
table leg, and he howled.
"Christ fucked Mary!" he shrieked.
"Mulder!" Krycek hissed, appalled and suddenly showing a side to
himself no-one had ever seen before. "You watch your language, you
damned blasphemer!"
"I'll blaspheme you, you two-timing double-crossing punk-nosed
skinny-boned conscious-less sonuvabitch!" Mulder swung a fist into
Krycek's gut, and Krycek reciprocated.
Then they rolled around on the floor some more.
Then they got bored after a while, and stopped, and retired to
neutral corners of the kitchen. There, in silence, they sat for a
while. Mulder nursed a bloody nose, and Krycek wiped at a bloody
lip.
"Bastard," Mulder muttered, after a while.
"Moron," Krycek muttered back from around a swollen lip.
More silence.
"I think you broke my jaw," Krycek finally said, and Mulder snorted.
"Krycek, the end of the world is at hand. I could've bitten your
fucking nose off, and it wouldn't make a goddamned bit of
difference. In about three minutes, it won't matter at all anymore."
He sat for a moment, and Krycek stared gloomily at the ceiling,
which was cracked and stained. "Plus," Mulder continued, "if your
jaw was broken, I don't think you'd be able to talk."
Krycek briefly considered a scathing retort, but then figured he was
too tired and his jaw hurt too much to bother. He just stared at the
ceiling instead.
"Goddammit," Mulder groused, pouting at the floor. "I can't believe
this."
"Believe what? I thought you believed anything, as long as it was
highly implausible and confounded logic."
"I can't fucking believe that the end of the world is here, and I
get to witness it with you. Out of all the people I get stuck
dying with, I get stuck dying with you."
"Well," Krycek snapped, "I'm ever so sorry that Scully couldn't be
here to experience the Apocalypse with you instead. I'm sure that
the moment the Cosmic Maitre D' finds out he screwed up your
reservations, he'll just rush right over and fix it for you, seeing
as the whole fucking universe revolves around you."
"Fuck you, asshole!" Mulder shouted.
"Fuck you right back, prick!" Krycek shouted in return.
"You amoral bastard!"
"You arrogant fuck!"
"I hate you!"
"I despise you!"
"I'd kill you now with my bare hands," Mulder roared, "if the end of
the world wasn't about five seconds into the future and it would
just be a waste of time!"
"You couldn't kill me if I was tied up, unconscious, and rigged up
to an incendiary device and all you had to do was throw the switch,
you clueless clumsy hopeless psycho!"
The two were by now so incensed that they started throwing objects
at one another without actually getting up off the floor. Mulder
hurled pots, pans, a poached egg frier, and a colander at Krycek,
who retaliated with an egg beater, a spatula, two wooden spoons, and
a coffee mug. They both, of course, had terrible aim, and their
projectiles sailed harmlessly through the air and bounced safely off
of walls and cabinets, but not actual bodies. Steak knives whirled
and thunked safely into cabinet doors, buried to their hilts.
Really, it was quite sad.
After a while they both ran out of ammo within arm's reach, and were
too lazy to get up and find more. So they just sat listlessly
instead. Mulder inspected the wall across from him, and Krycek
inspected his knees.
Silence in the kitchen.
"Hey," Mulder said suddenly, breaking it, "remember that one time
when you gave me a blowjob in the office right before our meeting
with the chief of police? Back when we were partners?"
Krycek smiled, remembering. "Yeah."
Mulder smiled, too.
"Remember that one time when we decided to have sex in a car while
on a stakeout?" Krycek asked, and Mulder grinned and replied, "Sure
do. Scully almost caught us, that time."
"Remember... that one time... in the hotel... with the vase and the
cleaning maid?" Krycek asked, and Mulder nodded. They were both
quiet for a moment, remembering the hotel incident.
"We never did manage to clean off the walls with that one, did we?"
Mulder asked.
Krycek shook his head, and they both smiled.
Outside, the sky turned red.
"Y'know, Mulder," Krycek began slowly, "since we're gonna die
anyway, in a couple of minutes, why don't we—"
"No," Mulder cut in shortly, scowling.
"Why the hell not? What better way is there to go?" Krycek demanded.
"Krycek," Mulder began, his face perfectly blank, "I would rather
have my head hacked off with a butter knife while fully conscious
and with all my faculties intact than have sex with you."
Krycek whistled. "A butter knife? That's damn freaky, Mulder."
"Old case of mine."
"Ah."
Silence in the kitchen.
Outside, the sky turned green. Clouds began to roil, a dull orange.
It was a technicolor nightmare.
"So, did you ever bang 'er?"
Mulder looked up, startled. "Huh?"
"Scully," Krycek explained. "Did you ever fuck her? Do the wild
fandango? Do the horizontal electric slide? Do the nasty? Fuck like
weasels? Do the rabbit hop? Do some special hugging? You know, have
sex?"
Mulder's face grew an interesting shade of red. "Krycek! You shut
your goddamned mouth! It's none of your goddamned business, anyway!"
"Oh, come on, Mulder," Krycek taunted. "We're all gonna be dead in a
second, why not just tell me? What difference does it make? So, did
you two get down and dirty with each other? Didja do some laps? Make
like the beast with two backs? Inquiring minds want to know."
"Raaaaaggghhh!" Mulder replied, and launched himself again at
Krycek, who let out a little shriek.
They rolled around the kitchen floor some more, jabbing and kicking,
howling obscenities. They crashed into a cabinet, shaking the whole
wall, and a stack of plates rattled and fell off a shelf, smashing
loudly.
Mulder began throttling Krycek. "Shut up! Shut up! Just shut the
fuck up!"
"Ack!" Krycek gagged. "Ack! Make me, G-man! Ack!"
They rolled back into the kitchen table, which rocked, spilling a
jar of flowers that Scully had given Mulder the day before. More
crashes. More screaming and howling. More breaking flatware. Krycek
grabbed a half of a soup bowl and smashed it over Mulder's head.
Mulder kneed his groin. More rolling around the floor like an
overzealous tumbling display. Smash. Boom. Punch. Thwap. Bam.
Crunch. Crack. Shoom. Splatter.
The boys fetched up against the dishwasher and began pummeling one
another in earnest.
Outside, the sky turned black with green and blue flames. Pink
streaks flowed inkily over the sky. Then a crystalline tide of
white, pure sparkling white, spilled over the horizon, swallowed up
the blackness, and washed over them all.
THE END
Here it Comes
by Raietta
Through the window they saw the first streaks of dawn, and knew it
was coming. Just a few more minutes, and it would be here.
