His legs sprawled akimbo; Alex slouched in a leather armchair. Without
looking, he leaned back, his head hanging like a wilted rose. 'Who the hell
was he kidding? He had no intention of killing AD Skinner.'
Out of curiosity, Alex finally straightened in the chair and looked down at
the fallen palm pilot. Lucky bastard, it had come up heads anyway. An
exhalation puffing between his lips as he bent, Alex picked it up and placed
it carefully in the box where he kept it locked.
CSM had never explained which of Alex's transgressions had resulted in his
punishment in Tunisia. Was it for taking the nanos for his purposes? His
vendetta against the aliens? Or for subverting Jeffrey Spender and turning
him to the side of Fox Mulder?
Then again, Spender might have been angry because of the last actions that
Alex had taken in the case of Junior Spender. He hadn't even thought about
it, an odd state of being for a professional survivor. Mulder was almost
always his downfall, but in this case he didn't have that excuse. It could
have been guilt, but Alex wasn't ready to examine that as his motivation! It
wasn't an emotion he could afford.
However, as soon as that cold bastard had left, not even bothering to stay
with Jeffrey to make sure he was dead, Alex had knelt in the office and
stopped the bleeding. A minor bribe and Jeffrey was declared dead and
delivered to Marita's door. Alex regarded this as a belated birthday gift.
Marita had been fond of Jeff.
It had been a finger up-thrust in Spender's face and Alex loved that. He
loved the buzz in the Consortium as people realized that Spender's own son
had betrayed him and that he had lost control, killing for personal spite,
not even bothering with a hired man to perform the deed. When rumor slipped
out that Jeff was alive, suffice to say Spender had not been pleased.
Alex shambled to his feet. He felt as if he was walking at the bottom of the
Dead Sea. He was tired, soul-weary, and in pain. He'd taken a chance with
his king piece and lost it. Why the hell had he thought that he could win
against Spender on his own playing ground? What had they done with Mulder?
The small kitchen was a postage stamp for some third world country. Cracked
tile on the counter. Torn linoleum curling up in spots. An avocado tinted
refrigerator so ancient that the stickers laid on it by generations of
naughty children created the appearance of a geological map of the earth.
Grabbing bread and bologna, Alex made a tasteless meal, forcing the food
down because he was too stupid to know when to lie down and die. Almost
immediately, it forced its way back. He ran for the bathroom, hanging his
head over the toilet as his body rejected the food he needed. Grimly, Alex
poured soup into a pan instead. This stayed down as an act of will. He
washed the bowl, spoon, and pot, dried them and put them away. Returning to
his abandoned computer, he reopened Explorer, browsing for some clue, some
detail that would allow him to get Mulder back. Nothing, nada.
Perhaps it was time, time to give up and use the little biological weapon
that the Russians had developed. Sweet lethal virus that had such an
appetite for some enzyme essential to Oilien life. He had intended to use it
if he had to even though the risk was horrific. Chances were that it would
also destroy all the oil reserves on Earth, possibly even all oil-based
substances, no plastic, no gasoline, and no oil for heating.
A moment of bitter reflection on his one hand. One blood stained hand to
hold the fate of the world. He didn't want that power or the decision. At
one time, he had thought he did, but now it ate at him constantly. He'd
trade it all for...no; keep his thoughts from that track lest he go mad.
Waking from an exhausted sleep, Alex felt it, smelt it, sensed it. Them, it
was them. He scrambled out of bed, panic screaming through his veins. The
machine precise voice said, "We will negotiate."
Yeah, since there was no way out, he would have to agree. Alex drew an aura
of confidence around himself as a lesser man might put on trousers. He was
afraid, but if he couldn't deal with fear, he would have blown his brains
out long ago. "Get out," he commanded. "I'm going to take a shower and get
dressed. I'll talk to you in the living room."
The water ran down his scarred body as hot as he could stand it. Whenever
those things were around, he never felt clean. He could feel the acrid smell
burning his nostrils and triggering his gag reflex. He leaned against the
walls of the shower, head hanging as he fought for control.
By the time he stepped out to meet them; he was smooth shining steel, cold
as ice.
Alex ignored them to make a cup of tea. There were three of them. They
stood, stupid creatures, too ignorant of human parameters to bother to sit.
Taking his time, Alex waited for the water to boil, warmed his cup, and
measured the tea into a tea caddie. Finally, he sat in his best chair,
taking a sip of the hot, rich fluid. He leaned back, meeting the alien's
gaze through heavy-lidded eyes.
"You're here. You want something. I'm probably not going to give it to you,
but go ahead and tell me since you've already woken me," Alex said.
"We are told it is probable that if we force your hand you will find a way
to use the weapon against us," said the first alien. He was blond, curls
reaching down to his collar. He had pretty eyes, which were blue when they
were not black with swirling oil.
A second one had ebony skin, tribal markings visible in hatching on the left
side of his face. The third bore a resemblance to Dana Scully if her genetic
template had been stretched into a tall, muscular Amazon. All of them were
blank of expression. Alex observed that for such self declared superior
beings they couldn't even fake a plausible human emotion.
An old resentment surfacing, Alex recalled that Mulder hadn't noticed that
about him when the alien had been joyriding in his body.
"Yeah, you're right. If I don't contact a certain number once a day, then
you guys are going to be so much solvent lying around in lifeless puddles.
And let me tell you, they won't let you near the places where I keep my
little weapons. I can't even access them unless I submit to a blood test
twice in twenty-four hours."
"Humans are occasionally clever," the first alien admitted.
Alex nodded and said, "So tell me what you think you have that I can't get
on my own."
"Mulder," the alien said.
He had expected that, but he caught his breath anyway, tightened his eyes
against a sudden dampness. "What makes you think I'm interested in Mulder?"
The alien gave way to the woman who said, "I was the one who rode you. I
have your memories, human. I know."
Alex sat straighter and said, "You know nothing. It was an infatuation. I
got over it. Humans are fickle."
"Is this correct?" asked the first leader.
"No, this human would not change. His need to be with the other has no
logic, but is constant," the female alien said.
"Shall we terminate Mulder then? We find he is useless. Modifications of his
body are not satisfactory. We are working on a new hybrid instead," the
leader said, still standing, still toneless.
Alex's keen mind fastened on this information. He couldn't help thinking
about Dana Scully's unexplained pregnancy. He wondered what he could say to
get them to continue talking.
With their mechanical precision, all three turned at once to leave.
Alex's hand lifted up to halt them as he said, "Wait. I might be interested,
but I'm not sure. Humans often think they want one thing and find it is not
the true object of their desire. I want to take...a test run. Besides, I
have to see if I can ever change his behavior towards me. Getting beat up by
Mulder is no longer the thrill it was."
"Granted. You will continue to contact your minions about the weapon during
this period of time?" the alien asked.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? That would leave it wide open for you to
keep Mulder and have the weapon too. Well, no, I won't contact them. Come
back in an hour. I have some arrangements to make. I will arrange to be gone
for four days. After which time, the weapon will be let loose."
"Understood. We will go as you say, to make arrangements."
Taking a deep breath, Alex waited until they left before calling the first
of the numbers. He used a series of resources, fail-safes within fail-safes.
The last one he called was Marita. He said, "Marita, I'm going. They're
promising me Mulder."
Her voice was cool and contained as always. "You're a fool, Alex. It's not
worth it."
He shrugged. "Yeah, but I have to go. Give me four days. I don't think
they'll screw with me. They're scared."
Moving around the house, Alex packed a small bag, throwing condoms and lube
in the travel kit along with his toiletries and clothing, with a lift of his
lips at his own stupidity. He set his Watchdog program for self-destruction
if anyone accessed it but him. There would be no question of rebuilding his
documents from the fragments left on the hard drive. It would be more a
question of having the forensic experts rebuild the person who tried to
access it from the fragments of teeth and bone that survived the explosion.
Looking around, Alex was ready to chase Mulder one last time.
Ready to follow him anywhere.
There was a time when Alex Krycek dreamed of being an astronaut. Surprised?
How many kids grow up hoping to be assassins, traitors, or killers? He had
wanted to walk on the moon, be the first person on Mars. Instead he set foot
on an alien ship deep in the earth, and his skin twitched. All he wanted to
do was to run out of that place. He set one foot in front of the other,
keeping his mind on Mulder.
This ship was the same as all the others, dank and dark. Stone walls,
twisted and deformed by stalagmites defined huge open spaces. Narrow
passages would open with vertigo inducing suddenness to drop-offs. Mulder
lay like a sacrifice on a stone-like chair, naked and bound like Prometheus.
Alex paused in the doorway, not sure if the man was conscious or not.
Hazel eyes, bloodshot, sunken, dark circled, stared at him. Mulder pulled at
his bonds, wrists looking as if he had done this again and again. His voice
was parched, sounding withered as Spender's had been before Alex killed him.
"So, Krycek, come to kill me?"
Mulder always got to him one way or the other. Alex struck a pose, leaning
against the wall. He cocked his head, raking his eyes over every detail of
Mulder's imprisonment. He kept the pain from his expression and said, "It
appears that I have something they want. For some reason, they thought they
could bargain with me. I decided to have a look for old time's sake. You
don't look very tempting."
"Just like you, Krycek, I always knew you were a pervert. Can't get laid
anymore unless the guy is tied up and captive?" Mulder shot back.
Striding across the room, Alex moved to stand over his former partner. He
looked down at him, feeling cold, feeling even more alone then he had at the
bottom of the silo. Sighing, Alex rested his right hand on the immobile left
arm. "You know, I'm not the one who gets hard from beating me."
Belatedly, Alex blushed. What the hell had he just said? Now, he was making
double entendres like Mulder. He saw Mulder's Adam's apple bob as the man
swallowed back a laugh. Bound, tortured, and he still could see the humor in
their traditional posturing. "Anyway, you're the one that gets off on having
me in handcuffs."
"Whatever," Mulder said; his expression shifted and he furtively looked
around. There were no aliens in the room, but they were probably watching.
He said hoarsely, "Let me free, Alex."
Alex closed his eyes. *He called me Alex* he thought.
"Yeah, I can do that," he replied. He stepped forward and triggered the
button that released the cruel barbs that held Mulder captive. He watched
curiously as they slid free, traceless, bloodless.
"Don't try to get up, Mulder. You'll be too weak," said Alex, his fingertips
caressed Mulder's arm, tracing the compact muscle beneath the warm flesh.
"You make a regular practice of playing with abductees?" Mulder questioned,
scorn dripping from his tones.
"No, I..." Alex responded. He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed
down his words. "I just know about this."
Had Alex been here? Tortured like Mulder? The truth...? What to believe...?
In whom to believe...? Beautiful Alex. Deceptive Alex...
Memory was a funny thing. Mulder could remember a thousand facets of Alex's
face, like a diamond, cut, reduced, but never entirely ruined. His beauty
had changed from that of the brash young agent, first to the dark, seductive
desperation in that Hong Kong airport, then to the hard-faced soldier that
accompanied him to Russia. Yet in all those permutations, some core of him
remained the same, precious, scintillating and hauntingly lovely.
Alex was Lucifer, a fallen angel, whose saving grace was that he never
mentioned their one night in paradise.
Alex, Krycek, whatever Mulder meant to call him, had a strange expression on
his face, a mixture of shock, greed, and lust. He'd reopened his eyes after
standing there with that tormented expression on his face for so long that
it seemed as if he would never open them again.
"You want a bath? They never clean you up here," Alex remarked. Without
waiting for an answer, he almost ran from the room.
Mulder slowly brought his hand up to his face. It shook. He hardly had the
strength to move it. Krycek was right. He was weak. He touched his chest,
his head. He could feel no scars, no wounds, but his body ached with the
memory of pain. Sickness permeated his body. He didn't know if they were
curing him or killing him, only that he meant as little to them as a
specimen on a slide meant to Scully.
Out of sight, he could hear Alex yelling, bold as hell. His voice, edged
with emotion yet filled with his innate confidence, badgered the aliens as
if they were no more frightening than the guard in Tunguska, or the
witnesses he'd questioned during their brief partnership.
When Alex returned, he bore a basin, a steaming basin of water and a cloth
over his arm. Human things...comforting things, Mulder blinked back tears of
longing. He wanted to be clean. He wanted Alex to touch him, but he couldn't
trust him, must not trust him.
Alex's hand trembled as he gently ran a cloth over Mulder's rank body.
"Don't know why they treat you like this if they think you're important. Tie
you up. Don't wash you and God knows what else they've done," Alex's husky
voice seemed a caress of sound flowing over Mulder, as comfortingly as the
warm water.
Closing his eyes, Mulder just gave in to the sensation of a human hand on
him after all this time. His flesh knew the difference. There was energy
passing between them. The cloth sloshed in the basin and returned, washing
under his arms, sweeping down his sides and around.
Periodically, Krycek walked away to change the water, testing it carefully
before touching him with the heated rag. The cloth traveled down his legs
and touched the ticklish area under his knees before washing between his
toes thoroughly. The question didn't even make sense until the third time.
"Is it all right if I wash between your legs?" Alex asked, with an odd,
anxious prim inflection.
Mulder laughed hysterically...until he wept. He couldn't stop until Alex's
hand that had been caressing him, slapped him hard across the face.
"Get a grip, Mulder," said that voice, which purred, which growled, which
he'd heard in his moments of deepest fear and anger, and which invaded his
lustful fantasies.
Catching his breath, Mulder blinked back the stinging tears. He nodded and
struggled to speak. "Take me out of here. Take me any place where I don't
have to look at this room." His voice cracked as he added, "I'm so tired,
Alex. I want to go home."
Cool green, warm green, depths of the ocean and lush green valley called him
down as Alex's eyes looked into his. Trusting for the moment, Mulder let go.
Alex would take care of him.
However, there was a bed—and not a waterbed either. Alex had the two
shambling men put Mulder on the bed. He knelt, his movements more contained
than ever, gentle, tender, almost parental, and pulled the covers up around
Mulder. A tiny jerk of the sleeping body said he still had not been careful
enough. The tiny intake of breath went straight to Alex's heart. He was
undone. Mulder opened his eyes, the lashes clung together despite just having
been wiped clean, his dazed eyes traveled to Alex's face. Surprisingly, he
reached instead of pushing away. He clung to Alex insistently until,
understanding, Alex lay down. Mulder wrapped around him, Alex's one armed,
scarred body, a battered, but beloved teddy bear for an ill child.
Waking, Mulder's breath was damp against his neck. His entire right side was
numb from the man's weight, and he was as close to happy as a man who held
the fate of the world in his one hand could be. At his slight movement,
Mulder woke, rolled away after a frown creased his face.
So much for a brief moment of contentment...Alex sat up, swung his legs to
the side of the bed and waited for his brain to catch up with his body.
Mulder mumbled something that Alex didn't understand. He said, "Get your face
out of the pillow, Mulder, if you want to talk to me."
"I said that I want something to eat. All I've had is what they were putting
in my arm. I'm thirsty too," Mulder whined.
Great, Alex hoped nobody was taping this. At this rate he was more likely to
be changing Mulder's diapers as he reached advanced senility than he was
likely to seduce him. He scratched his flat stomach and lurched out of the
bed, stiff and sore from a long day and a night of service as a pillow. "All
right, all right, I'll see what I can do. This isn't the Hilton, Mulder."
Two of the big all-purpose clones stood like chessmen outside the door. Alex
engineered a sneer on his face and said, "Get us something to eat. Not that
pig slop you feed subjects here."
Blank eyes turned on him. Alex snarled, "Your bosses want to keep me happy.
I'm very unhappy now. Go."
One of the clones stalked away. Alex nodded and slammed the door between the
corridor and the mockup of Mulder's apartment. He heard a noise and had to
run across the room to catch Mulder. The man caught his arm, holding on
tightly. He said, "I need to use the bathroom, want a shower."
Alex understood that feeling. He said, "I'll help you. You don't look too
steady on your feet."
After starting to jerk away, Mulder gave it up. He moved his hand on Alex's
arm, softly. "You really want me, huh?"
Eyes adverted; pointed chin turned downward, Alex tried to ignore the finger
stroking his arm. They'd never discussed that one time. It had been a searing
moment in Alex's life, but he assumed it had meant nothing to Mulder, who had
watched him dress the morning after, expressionless, his eyes barely moving
as Alex sat on the bed, pulling on yesterday's socks. Mulder had let him
leave without word.
The last civil exchange they'd ever had was, "Alex, give me your keys." Their
fingers had brushed as they passed the metal, warm from Alex's pocket.
Mulder's eyes had looked into his for a few seconds, and after that they were
enemies.
"Mulder, I..." Alex couldn't remember what he meant to say. His heart hurt.
It literally ached as if something was clawing through the layers of stone he
had armored himself in. The urge to run, run as far away from Mulder as he
could, was as strong as the need to breathe. He shuddered as Mulder now ran
his hand up and down his sleeve, his face seemingly in a trance.
"They didn't let me touch anyone," Mulder murmured, "you never even know how
much people touch you until it's gone. A brush against a shoulder in an
elevator. Patting a friend on the back. Shaking hands even. And more, a
kiss...a kiss would be like water to a man dying of thirst. But here we are.
The last two people in the world who could give any comfort to each other."
Mulder's eyes burned him, but he was Icarus. Alex understood absolutely what
drew the boy...that bright incendiary presence calling to him, knowing that
he couldn't survive yet drawn ever nearer. "Mulder," he repeated, his agile
wit stunned stupid at the man's feet.
He couldn't run and the idea of asking Mulder what he wanted...if he could
touch him, consume him, run his feverish hands over every inch of that lanky
body that gleamed like white gold in this dim light, terrified him. Mulder
was his passion, his addiction, and a nemesis of the heart that was his
Achilles heel.
Alex's voice was a ragged growl, a bedroom voice that had been strained with
passion. He said, "Come on. Better get that shower before they bring us
breakfast."
The water ran in rivulets down Mulder's long body. His hands moved over his
chest, down to caress his stomach that had lost that sweet softness that Alex
remembered. Mulder had let Alexkiss him there. He had looked back at Mulder's
face, smiling and sweating as Alex tasted every inch of him. The slightly
fleshy stomach had surprised him after seeing the lean muscle of legs and
arms, the haunches as powerful as a greyhound's, as sleek as a seal's.
"You're getting wet," Mulder said, as if amused.
Hastily, Alex said, "I don't want to shut the curtain. I mean, I'm sorry
about not being able to give you any privacy and all, but I don't want you to
fall."
"Yeah, I saw how hard you weren't looking. Look, Alex, just get in. Save some
water and you'll be able to catch me all the sooner if I start to fall,"
Mulder said.
Undressing in front of Mulder was one of the most difficult tasks that Alex
had ever forced on himself. He felt the gaze frankly examine his shoulder and
saw the wince.
Mulder turned his face upward, letting the water run freely down his face. He
was beautiful, human, crooked beak of a nose, lips so full that the lower one
seemed almost swollen, eyes unevenly set in that narrow oval face.
Ignored, Alex gradually relaxed. Showers were a blessing he had more reason
than most to appreciate. Finally, the water cooled so even aliens must have
something like a water heater to contend with. When Alex had been here
before, long ago, he hadn't even known the ship possessed showers.
Thinking about that time, he shivered violently. Coming here reminded him why
he hungered for power, needed to stay on top. He wondered if Mulder had had
to face the same choice that Alex had long ago, would he have chosen...a more
heroic one than Alex had made?
Mulder said, "I'm getting cold too. Let's get out."
There were no towels to wrap around waists. Alex pulled his clothing out of
the small bag he had packed, reluctantly offering Mulder a pair of sweatpants
and a tee-shirt that would fit his body which, although they were both tall,
was proportioned differently than Alex's. He watched out of the corner of his
eyes, helping when Mulder tangled his head in the fabric of the shirt.
So intimate, simple gestures from one lover to another, these were things
they had never had in that one molten night of passion that had welded their
souls together. Alex almost swayed on his feet from the shocking need this
made him feel. He blinked back sudden moisture, an assassin who cried
too-easy tears.
Mulder was better at hiding his feelings, but his voice held some hint of
warmth as Alex smoothed the fabric of the shirt with shaking fingers. His
hazel eyes bored through the layers of Alex's defenses, a slight predatory
smile crossing his lips, as he saw what the man could not hide. He reached to
lift Alex's chin, forcing the verdant eyes to meet his. "I always thought
that night meant something to you."
What was he saying? That it meant nothing to Mulder? Probably.
Alex wondered what Mulder would have done if he had not suspected Alex of
killing his father? Found another reason to hate him? Anything to push him
away and pretend they had never made love. Not that Alex had ever pretended
he was an innocent, but still, that night had been about him.
Wrenching his chin away, Alex scrambled across the room, his hand
telegraphing his vulnerability as it cupped the naked surface of his
artificial arm. "I didn't make you sleep with me. You made the first move.
You wanted me."
"Wanted?" Mulder said slowly as if tasting the flavor of the word on the
barbs of this tongue. "Yeah, I did. Wouldn't take "No" for an answer. I
should regret it. I've tried to pretend it didn't happen." He shrugged,
wincing as some hidden ache revealed itself.
"But it did happen. And it was good, Alex, very good."
Lowering his eyes, Alex wanted to turn and hide from Mulder's alien eyes. He
wondered if Mulder was reading his thoughts and seeing right through him?
Mulder just smiled and sat back against the pillows of the bed.
A flash of pearl white teeth showed between the rosebud lips. Alex was
feeling cornered and that was when he was most dangerous. Mulder knew he
shouldn't continue. He was insane to play this game, but he couldn't stop.
If he didn't manipulate Alex, he might have to face the truth. And he
couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle the memories of that one night.
It could have been worse. He had stayed in bed, uncharacteristically silent,
watching Alex move around the room, getting ready for work. His mind had
been racing. He didn't know what had happened to him. He'd done this before,
picked up a guy. Not often lately, but on occasion. It had never been anyone
from his real life. It had never meant anything but a momentary relief,
forgetting his pain in uncomplicated lust.
"Make sure he gets home," Skinner had said.
Alex had clung to him like a shadow, insisted that he get in the car,
walking him to the door, and standing there looking at Mulder with puppy dog
eyes. "Can I get you something?" was all he said, but that had uncorked
everything that Mulder had been keeping in. It was happening all over again.
Samantha, Scully, gone. Taken. Abducted.
It had not been anything Mulder had thought about. One moment, Alex was
leaning over him, saying, "She'll be all right. They'll find her, Mulder.
Please, don't cry. Please."
Reaching out his hand, Mulder had pulled Alex near, feeling him warm, hot
even. He reveled in the feeling of solid human flesh to hold. He buried his
face in the luxury of Alex's hair, so thick and smooth, fragrant. His hands
fumbled over Alex's body, touching him, demanding everything from him.
"No, you don't want me, Mulder," Alex had said, "don't do something we'll
regret. Listen to me."
But Mulder had listened instead to Alex's body that yielded to his touch,
arched, and offered, to the catch of his breath when Mulder leaned closer.
To the trembling eyelashes and the eyes moving under the mauve lids. To the
lips that offered themselves, opening to his frenzied kisses.
Mulder's hands had undressed them both. His eyes had devoured what he had
known was there. A lean body, disciplined and strong, yet the ass cheeks
were soft and full, delighting his hands. Nipples rosy-ripe and turgid with
arousal. Neck arched back in a line that had always moved him. A soft throat
that was exposed to him like a sacrifice. The cock was so beautiful, plump,
straining, round head, pearl at the tip showing how excited he was.
The first time had been fiery solace...Lethe in the intoxication of making
love to the body, young and innocent seeming, a perfect wildness offering
itself to his without any artifice or reservation. No matter how many times
he went over it in his head, Mulder couldn't make himself believe that it
hadn't been real.
In the days thereafter, silence had been a shield between them as if it had
never happened.
But Mulder had never forgotten. Never could. He couldn't wipe it out with
fists or with mockery. He couldn't pull the roots of his passion from his
heart...not without cutting the heart from his breast. He'd tried that too,
locking the emotions away, so he'd never be hurt by another betrayal, but it
never worked, did it? So here they were, on the stage that seemed set by the
fates, and it seemed that Mulder knew his part. Knew it was time to claim
Alex.
"Come here, Alex," Mulder lured, using a voice he borrowed from the Horse
Whisperer.
Apparently, it didn't work on rats...
Alex said, "Food's here. I'll get it." He retreated out the door with all
too much haste.
The rap on the door, which announced the food, was all that saved Alex from
Mulder, and from himself. More dramatic as a new paragraph. He was heading
for that bed, for Mulder, and for the prospect of evisceration when Mulder
turned it (as he knew he would) into another of his cat games. Saved, it
took an act of will not to open the door and keep running. Why was this so
difficult? Mulder was not following the rules...keeping pain and bitter
acidic words between them like a wall.
Alex leaned against the door for a moment, catching his breath. He glanced
backwards, ruing his weakness. Mulder's expression held the essence of him,
questioning, brilliance of mind combined with white-hot fire of spirit. Alex
knew he'd finally done it. Shown too much. Given it all away. He may as well
lie on that altar and offer Mulder his throat.
The clone pushed a service cart, his gait as shambling as one of the
reanimated corpses from the Dawn of The Dead. His expression was leaden.
Alex felt a wave of sickness. This one was a Mulder clone, a badly botched
one. It hurt to see it, painful to see how gold could be turned to dross.
Mulder's body was not the whole of what he wanted. It was quintessence of
Mulder that was his secret addiction, his downfall. Alex winced and
carefully blocked Mulder's view, protecting him, as always, from the truths
he could not live with.
Summoning up the eager young agent from his repertoire, Alex pushed the cart
back into the room. He said, "We've got bagels, cream cheese, and
strawberries. Coffee and tea too. Guess we're getting the Hilton treatment
after all."
Patting the bed, Mulder said, "Bring it here, Alex. Come on and sit with me.
I dare you."
A blush as red as the strawberries crept down from his cheeks and kept going
until Alex knew he was pink from head to toe. He made himself lift his head
and face Mulder. Shrugging, he pushed the food over and sat on the bed.
Swiftly, he picked up a bagel with sunflower seeds embedding among the
scattering of poppy and sesame. He spread it with the cream cheese and added
the best berries on the side.
"For you," Alex said.
When Mulder leaned toward him, Alex thought it was just to take the food so
he didn't flinch away. Instead, Mulder caught the back of his head, captured
his lips, invading his mouth with a devouring kiss that stole his breath,
made his heart race, destroyed him.
Mulder's expression was self-satisfied; he licked his lips and took the
plate still clutched in Alex's trembling hand. "Delicious," he remarked, "I
must compliment them on their room service. It's just what I wanted."
There was no answer. What the hell was happening here? It was not going
according to plan...although truth to tell, Alex's only plan was to assure
himself that he was not trading for a clone, but for the real Mulder.
Perhaps he'd fooled himself into believing that he could take his payment
unwillingly, but if he'd considered it, he would have known that he was
lying to himself.
Alex had always made all the decisions in the name of protecting Mulder from
the harsh realities that tainted Alex's soul. He wasn't sure why he changed
that policy this time. The moment the words left Alex's lips, he regretted
them. Mulder was given to heroic, futile gestures, shaking his fist at the
wrathful irony of uncaring Gods. The worst of it was that if Mulder chose
death rather than the dishonor of Alex's bargain that Alex would not have
the luxury of lying down and dying. He was a soldier and a soldier does not
have the right to let a broken heart stop him from fighting.
But it was Mulder's choice. The first one that Alex had ever freely given to
him. And Alex waited for his answer.
The shadows wrapped around him like a familiar blanket. He held the small
glass tube in his hand, turning its smooth surface over and over as he
waited. He wasn't sure what he would do if they didn't bring Mulder back.
Was he deluding himself in believing Mulder was as important to the world as
he was to Alex? Spender has always made him think that was true, but the
aliens seemed to dismiss that notion.
Apparently, his bluff, if it had been a bluff, had worked. Alex closed his
eyes, expelling a breath he didn't know he had been holding as he saw the
black Cadillac pull up to the emergency door as he had demanded. They
hurriedly expelled a limp body and sped away.
A hospital employee coming out to get an abandoned wheelchair saw Mulder
first. She looked about with a shocked expression, knelt to check and then
ran in, roaring, "Get a gurney STAT!"
In the hubbub, Alex, dressed as a nurse's aid, was able to get near enough
to see that it was Mulder or at least that it looked like Mulder. He hoped
the aliens didn't have the balls to try to substitute a clone, but he didn't
trust them. He followed the technician to the lab and palmed the blood
sample when the man turned to answer a question. Fading into the background
was something he had learned to do from an early age.
The man frowned and asked the air, "What happened to that test tube?"
His sleepy eyed coworker said, "It wasn't logged in so it didn't exist.
Don't sweat it, go get another one."
Mulder had already been wheeled into a critical care room and Alex knew
better than to try his luck in there. The aliens had dropped him naked, with
no ID. There was something else that he needed to do before he went to have
the blood sample tested.
"He's back," Alex said into the phone.
Sleepy voiced, Scully asked, "What? Who's back? Who is this?"
"Krycek," Alex replied, "Mulder is at John Hopkins."
"Krycek, if you are playing some sort of game..." Scully declared.
"I'm not the one wasting time. Get your ass in gear, Scully. I don't want
him to wake up alone," Alex sharply said into the phone. He hung up,
confidant that Scully would call Skinner and hurry to Mulder's side. Still
he could not leave Mulder alone. He had to wait to see that his closest
friends were at his side, regretting that circumstances prevented him from
being the one whom Mulder saw upon waking.
It was a whiteness he saw all around him, making him wonder if he was having
a near death experience, but gradually a blob of flesh colored blur resolved
into a face, a beloved one if not exactly the one which he hoped to see.
"Alex?" Mulder asked, faintly and sounding even to himself like an abandoned
child.
"Scully," her voice said.
Deep voice rumbling from a bull-like chest added, "Walter too."
Unconsciousness pulled at him like a strong tide. He wanted to sink down
into it. Let it caress and heal him, hold him as tenderly as Alex had. His
eyes were heavy and it was difficult to keep them open. Still, he knew it
was important for him to let them know the truth.
"Krycek," Mulder said, his voice sluggishly enunciating.
"Was he the one that hurt you?" Scully's voice demanded; her tone so fierce
that Mulder was very glad that he wasn't the target.
"No, you don't understand. He saved me. Traded for something the aliens
wanted. He said, not something he wanted to use...end of civilization,"
Mulder babbled, knowing they really didn't understand.
"He loves me," Mulder finished, as his body slipped softly back into dreams.
He felt his cracked, dried lips creasing into a smile as he heard the
certainty of his own words.
The tender hand brushing his face became Alex's as Mulder found the safe
place that he had created in which to endure those last few days after Alex
had left to keep his bargain with the aliens. He slipped into Alex's embrace
and he was home again.
The lab said that it was Mulder, not a hybrid clone, the genuine article—
unless all the science the resistance had developed was awry. Alex held the
results as if they were almost as precious as his beloved's hand. Alex
nodded to the scientist and said, "Keep working on it. I want to know what
they did to him. If they changed him in any way."
What Alex did next was foolish, dangerous, and quite irresistible. He
returned to the hospital and walked through the lines, flashing his old FBI
identification with a confidant and casual flip of the hand. Insouciance
will win out in most situations, and it did here. Even in the heavily
guarded corridor, no one recognized him or did more than verify his ID. A
page that sent Skinner and Scully elsewhere had removed the largest
obstacles to his heart's desire.
No one stopped Alex from entering the room. He stood for a long time, unable
to do more than study the drawn face circled by white hospital linen, the
bandaged arm, with an IV attached, and the spill of his lover's raggedly cut
hair against the pillow. When Alex broke from his trance, he found himself
walking toward Mulder unaware of anything else. As he came close to the bed,
to Mulder, his heart thudded in an allegro beat of apprehension. His legs
gave out on him as he neared the bed and he thudded helplessly to his knees.
He barely had the strength to reach out and take Mulder's hand.
To save his life, he couldn't let go of that beloved flesh when he looked up
at Scully and Skinner as they burst in. He looked into the guns of two
people who had every reason to kill him where he knelt. Even so, as the limp
fingers twitched in his hand, he looked at Mulder instead. Whatever their
judgment was, he hoped he would see Mulder's eyes one last time.
Alex saw it all in Skinner's expression. How he had toyed with that strong,
valiant man and tried to make him a puppet. The painful death and painful
afterlife the nanocytes had inflicted on him.
Scully's face also reflected that her sense of justice was strained when it
came to Alex. She could deal with her conscience by having him locked away,
sparing her small white hand the bloodstain of his death.
Mulder's eyes flickered open and his mouth bowed into a drowsy smile.
"Alex," he whispered before subsiding back into exhausted slumber.
Looking back, Alex saw Scully holding her ground and the gun unswervingly.
Skinner said, "Dana, let him go. Remember what Mulder said."
Scully nodded and lowered her gun. Her blue eyes measured Alex and seemed to
find him as mysterious and disconcerting as one of Mulder's bizarre cases.
She asked, "Krycek, from what Mulder said you had every chance to demand
anything you wanted from the aliens. You could have asked for wealth,
power," She was sometimes a cruel woman and her eyes went to Alex's left
side as she said, "your arm back. Instead you asked only for Mulder. Why?'
"Matthew thirteen, forty-five to forty-six," Alex replied, stumbling to his
feet. He cupped Mulder's cheek in his hand and kissed his lips, believing
that he felt the smallest trace of response. Nodding at Scully and Skinner,
he said, "Take care of him or I'm coming after you."
Alex walked out of the room; he was leaving behind the only thing that made
him vulnerable, yet his stride was sure and proud now. He carried the sure
knowledge with him that he did not love in vain. And if there were still a
war in heaven and on earth that meant they could not be together, he would
never forget that Mulder loved him. He knew he had made the right choice.
Let the aliens pursue finding the antidote to that doomsday weapon. Alex was
sure he would never have used it anyway. Even now, the resistance was
looking for other means to send the aliens packing. He had the lead on
something new that might work, another alien experiment that might be a
self-created downfall. He'd have to go in and get it, but Alex smiled. If he
could steal heaven, nothing on earth was safe from him.
Watching Walter's expression, Scully wasn't sure what he was thinking. She
moved to Mulder's side and took her partner's hand. Belatedly, he fully woke
and said groggily, "I thought Alex was here."
Scully said, "He was. Don't worry. He'll be back. He can't stay away. How
are you, Mulder?"
Licking a dry tongue over parched lips, Mulder answered, "I feel as if part
of me is missing."
Skinner approached, broad face stretching into an unaccustomed smile,
"Welcome back, Agent Mulder."
"Glad to be back," Mulder said, "Can I have something to drink?"
Scully nodded at Walter who filled a small cup and lifted Mulder's head to
allow him to drink.
Skinner said, "It looked as if Krycek wasn't sure that the aliens had kept
their side of the bargain."
"They nearly didn't. I think I wasn't expected to live through those last
loving days in their care after Alex went to get the samples to trade,"
Mulder replied. "He almost had to let the stuff go and put the world back to
the Stone Age before they realized he wasn't bluffing."
From Skinner's expression, not much of his attention was on what Mulder was
saying. He looked at Scully and said, "I'm afraid I skipped out of most of
my Sunday school classes to go fishing. I know that Matthew thirteen,
forty-five to forty-six must be a biblical verse. I hate it when the devil
not only quotes scripture, but I can't even figure out the reference."
Scully smiled serenely at Mulder and said, "The kingdom of heaven is like
unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls. This merchant came across a
pearl that was so valuable, so precious, that he sold everything he had in
order to buy it."
Both of them looked at Mulder and understood perfectly.
An ending only as a seed ends when it sprouts from the ground...
Pearl Without Price
by Ursula
Spinning slowly in the air, the black box dropped in slow motion to the
floor. A macabre smile crossing his face, Alex thought, 'Tails you lose,
Skinner, you die."
Alex might have carried Mulder himself if he had been able, and although he
would have found a way to do so if he had to, practically it was easier to
ask for help. The aliens provided two dull-eyed clones that bore a
resemblance to Jeffrey Spender, to lug Mulder into a room, inexplicably set
up to be a duplicate of Mulder's apartment.
