Little Deceptions "I live like I feel:
I'm hoping to fall into grace"
1. MULDER ON THE COUCH
"I am ever so lost,
Krycek lounged on a hotel bed that was
missing a hotel room. Usually Mulder's dreams had a better sense of time
and place than this. "Am I really so bad?" Krycek asked plaintively.
"Are you trying to say that I've never done anything good for you?
Do you doubt that I love you?"
"It's not that—" Mulder said.
"Oh, really? So I'm bad and your
clone Brian is good. Aren't you forgetting something?" He pointed,
and Mulder turned to look.
He watched a handcuffed and concussed Brian
nearly brain a scruffy redneck with a shovel. A fight stunning in
its savagery and brutality followed and ended with Brian straddling the
redneck ready to blow his head off with the redneck's own gun. Then
Brian stiffened and hesitated as he realized that he had been ready to
kill someone.
The dream shifted Mulder's point of view
until he saw through Brian's eyes. The redneck, Early Grayce, gave
him a smile and a gurgling laugh as he put his bloody hand against Brian's
(Mulder's) face, not strong enough to give a push away and maybe not meant
to. Early followed it with a look that was a goad, a taunt, a threat,
and a kiss all at once. Brian fired at point blank range then ripped
the keys off the corpse's neck, stood, and moved away.
But Grayce, even with half his head blown
off, followed and held Brian tight against him in an obviously possessive
grip with an arm around Brian's neck and his other hand drifting to Brian's
groin. Brian moaned softly and leaned back, the keys and gun forgotten
in his hands, with his head lolling against the intact side of Grayce's
head. Grayce's blood on Brian's body mingled with his own, from the
deep cut on his face and the wrists rubbed raw by handcuffs Brian had never
really escaped from, all of which would scar and leave permanent marks of ownership
from the man who taught and forced Brian to kill. The scars on Brian's
body would forever hint at the ones Grayce cut into his mind, heart, and
soul.
Mulder knew all this but had read Brian's
book before he met his clone. He had viewed the story from a clinical
standpoint, seeing the horror but not really understanding the human cost.
Once Brian had told him that he felt no attraction to Early Grayce's body
but had been irresistibly drawn to his killer's soul and casual amorality.
The other night Mulder had bristled as Brian told him his view of Mulder's
relationship with Krycek. Now Mulder realized that Brian understood.
He couldn't watch this. Mulder turned
away. "Mulder, look at me," Brian said. When he did, he saw
to his relief that Grayce had disappeared. Another bloody Brian,
dressed all in black with a gun in his hand, crouched over the body of
something big and nasty. Dark Angel clung to his back like a second shadow.
"Mulder, you've been on this road long enough to have lost a belief in
white hats and black hats," Brian said. "Krycek isn't all bad, and
I'm no innocent."
"Fine. I know about shades of gray,"
Mulder said. "But are you saying that bloody violence is my destiny
either way?"
Krycek and Brian smiled. "It's been
your past and present," Brian said before he and Krycek walked over to
Mulder with Krycek stopping right in front of him and Brian behind.
Alex and Brian linked their hands around Mulder and stood so close to him
that he could feel both their heartbeats. Depending on his viewpoint,
Mulder could see this as a cage or a shield. He decided that he felt
safe like this. Then Alex kissed him deeply and Brian nibbled at
a particular spot on Mulder's right ear, and Mulder melted into the rightness of it.
Mulder woke up to the sound of persistent
knocking at his apartment door. "Hold on," he shouted as he reached
for his gun. Gun behind his back, he opened the door to find Scully standing
there.
"Brian?" she asked.
Mulder realized that he had fallen asleep
in the clothing, tight worn blue jeans and one of Angel's black T-shirts,
he'd borrowed from Brian yesterday. With the shades down he passed
for Brian. When he saw the look in her eyes he realized with some hurt
that Scully felt some attraction for Brian. For a single malicious
moment he considered pretending to be his clone just to see what she would
do, but sense and the certain knowledge that Scully would know the difference
even without looking for Brian's scars stopped him.
He let her in and closed the door behind
her. "No, I just borrowed some of his clothes," Mulder said.
"What's going on?"
She looked at him reproachfully.
"Mulder, it's 11 o'clock on a Monday morning and you didn't show up for
work. I got worried. I didn't know if you were still off in parts
unknown or hurt or sick."
It stunned and appalled him. He never
overslept. "I—I didn't realize. I must have overslept. I didn't
get much sleep this weekend."
"Mulder, I'm worried about you." She sounded
concerned and angry at the same time. "You were sitting in the dark
and looked so lost when I came to your apartment last time. You still
won't talk about what you saw on the truck—"
"I saw nothing I can remember; that's the
point."
"—but I saw your tears. Then you
disappeared without a word this weekend and didn't make it into work this
morning. Lately you've been keeping secrets from me and ditching
me every chance you get. When I see you afterwards you have a glow
about you, but it's an unhealthy glow, like the one people get during a
fever. I thought we were partners."
"You have no idea, Scully," he thought.
That comment about secrets irked him because he started keeping things
from her when he saw that she didn't want to hear any truth that didn't
fit her truth. For a moment he felt the temptation to blurt everything
out and see how much she liked truth then. He imagined with
a dark delight the inevitable look of anger, fear, confusion, and disgust
he would see on her face as she struggled for a logical explanation, but,
he smirked, he wasn't quite self-destructive enough to do it.
His smirk turned to a pensive frown. He
had time to think on the flight back from Newark about what he'd started
to call his Men's Room Stall Epiphany. Thoughts that had seemed right
and non-threatening at the time became scary once he no longer had Krycek's
head in his lap. Everybody including Mulder knew that Mulder was
screwed up, but his epiphany had shown depths he didn't even want to think
about. He wanted to think that he didn't really believe that he didn't
deserve to be safe and happy but instead deserved to be degraded and tormented.
He wanted to believe that he just got off on thoughts like that.
He couldn't entirely convince himself.
Mulder didn't know if he wanted to reject those thoughts because (1) they
weren't true or (2) if they were true he was one of the most pathetic human
beings walking the face of the earth. Even his revelations came with
strings attached. He'd gone to New York City looking for answers
but, as usual, found an answer that might be the truth or a just another
distraction from the truth and he couldn't be sure which was which.
Scully looked at him and waited for answers.
A cold calculating part of himself he didn't like to think about much told
him to give her a piece of the truth, something just intimate and shocking
enough to distract her from asking the larger questions. As much
as he hated this manipulative side of himself, he decided to follow its
lead.
"I—met someone months ago, Scully.
I've been seeing him on and off since then." He nodded when her eyes
widened and said, "Yes, it's a man, and I knew how the Bureau would treat
me if I were discovered so I covered it up. I didn't want you involved
in it. You lie enough for me already, and I was afraid that you'd
be disgusted if you found out about it. I couldn't bear to lose you,
Scully," Mulder said, blending heartfelt truth with misdirection.
She smiled and put her hand on his shoulder.
"I'm not disgusted, Mulder. Surprised maybe, a little hurt that you
felt you couldn't confide in me, but not disgusted. Is it anyone
I know?"
"No." "That's not a lie, really. You
don't know him the way I do." "His job makes him travel a lot so I don't
see him very often and I don't know when he'll pop up in my life.
Sometimes I feel like I can't trust him. I'm happy when we're together
but have second and third thoughts when he's gone but I feel so empty when
he's not around." Mulder realized that he discovered the truth of his feelings
himself as he told her even as he hid Krycek's identity in vague half-truths.
"This doesn't sound like a stable or healthy
relationship."
"You know me, Scully; I never do anything
the easy way. I'm working on it."
She smiled sadly. "I know.
I'm glad you finally decided to talk to me."
Mulder wanted to kick himself. "I'm
glad too, Scully. I wouldn't want to lose you."
2. THE IMPERFECT DRUG or, CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
"How can I exist without you?"
"Good luck with your case, Agent Mulder,"
the security guard called out to Brian as he left.
"Thanks," Brian said, feeling the man's
eyes on him. If Angel's suspicions panned out, the guard would tell
his superiors about Agent Mulder's visit to the archives. She said
she wanted to force Mulder to do something but refused to tell Brian what
that was.
Brian checked the mirrors in the car and
saw his familiar/unfamiliar face again. Through professional makeup
and artistic shading, Angel had erased the scar from his face. He
matched the counterfeit Sera had made of Mulder's FBI ID and didn't look
so different from the person he had been a few years ago. Brian switched his Mulder persona
off and quickly looked away from the mirror as he felt the depression closing
in tighter.
As he drove away he loosened the unaccustomed
tie around his neck then rummaged one-handed through his computer bag until
he could pry up the false bottom to reach the slim, small camera. He unloaded
the film and reloaded with new film then slipped the camera and used film
into separate places in his suit jacket.
He parked in front of Cup of Heaven and
walked inside with his computer bag to meet Angel. Serafine had plugged
her laptop into the electricity port and stared intently at it as she ate
her breakfast.
Keeping with his faux fed identity, he
said, "'Morning, Fitzwalter," as if she were his fed partner.
Sera grinned. "'Morning, Kessler,"
she said in a bland voice then made it deeper and warmer as she said, "Bunny."
When she leaned over and kissed him he drank her in with his senses and
felt her happiness start to clear the clouds from his brain. She
was a medication he loved to take. He slipped the film into the front
pocket of her jeans. When she pulled away from him, she said, "You
don't even taste the same."
"Method acting. I took some acting
classes in college."
"AD, I assume."
"'After Dad'? Yeah. Method acting.
That and lots of sunflower seeds. I'm starting to like them."
She looked at him searchingly. "You're
in the Downs again."
"My chemical imbalance makes life so wonderfully
unpredictable."
"I'm radiating happiness at you."
"Sera, I feel vampiric doing this."
"Bri, it would be vampiric if you stole
my happiness. Instead I'm happy and you absorb some of it and seeing
you happy makes me happier which then makes you happier. It's symbiotic
instead of parasitic."
"You spoil me."
"Every chance I get. They have an
Italian bakery here. Do you want my last zeppoli?" When he
nodded she fed it to him by hand with her fingers lingering near his mouth
when he finished. Seeing what she wanted, he took each finger into
his mouth one by one and sucked the sugar off. He realized that he
had become a part of one of those couples he'd always hated, the ones who
couldn't keep their hands off one another in public. It amazed him.
Her eyes too soon lost their dazed and
heavy-lidded look. She leaned in and whispered into his ear.
"Brian, the UN black ops force has invaded the Louisiana swamps looking
for Douglas. My friends got him out of the state, but they need my
help."
He whispered back, "The UN is nuts enough
to take on a bunch of Cajun swamp rats on their own turf?"
"Yeah. I have to go."
"And you want me to stay behind.
I understand."
Her eyes darkened. "I don't know what I'm
getting into. I may need you as backup. Find some way to let
Mulder know what going on, and see if you can figure out how they knew
where to look for Douglas." She stroked the side of his face.
"I felt bad enough about leaving you before I knew your brain had scheduled
a depression. Now—"
"Sera, go. I can't use you as a crutch."
She packed up her computer and gave him
a kiss that made him forget his own name before leaving in a rush.
As he watched her go he could feel his mood start to plummet again.
Sometimes it still amazed Brian how he could be flying one day and in the
deepest, darkest hole with the weight of the world on his head the next.
The fun never ended with bipolar disorder. He'd tried medication
under duress for a while but found the side effects unacceptable.
Of all the things his mother could have chosen to act like a mother about,
she chose that.
He had been in the last month of his senior
year of high school, and on the night she figured it out he had been on
the sweetest high, elated, brain singing with power and grace, everything
possible. At 3 am he felt too good to sleep so he decided to paint
his room.
While painting he brainstormed for a topic
for his honors English final paper. Actually, he looked forward to
this one. After finishing research and writing for a regurgitation
paper, with "this critic says this" and "this critic says that," he appreciated
the opportunity Mr. Kilcommons gave his students by assigning a final paper
that would be their pure opinion supported by the text.
Brian decided to continue working with
Crime and Punishment. He already knew the text inside and out.
He had a gift for getting into characters, a talent that helped him cruise
through English classes for his entire school career, but Raskolnikov spoke
to Brian in ways that no other had, maybe because Rodya, as Brian thought
of him, comprised a there-but-for-the-grace-of-God proposition. Scary as
it may be, Brian felt him from the inside.
As he dipped the roller into a creamy powder
blue, he pondered the possibilities. He could write his profile of
Rodya. One day Rodya woke up in his tiny, decaying room and couldn't
find a single reason why he should get up. Or
move or eat... Total burnout. A month later Rodya went out to
kill not for all the reasons he gave himself but because he had gone out
the far side of depression into living death and wanted desperately to
feel again. Why else would he play the cat and mouse games with the
cops or return to the apartment where he killed to ring that bell and relive
the sweet terror he felt the last time he felt alive.
Brian knew he could make a great paper
with that, but he would probably end it with a suicide note written in
his own blood. So, no.
Better to right a great wrong and work
with Dounia, Rodya's sister. In one hundred years of criticism that
found space to write about the meaning in the number of steps Rodya walked
and how his apartment's wallpaper was symbolic, somehow no one ever mentioned
the sister, overlooking her importance as the key to Rodya's character.
As if the sister never existed...
Brian turned the tape recorder on and started
painting. "Dounia and Rodya as mirror characters. Dostoyevsky
made them physical twins just to underscore the point. They're tall,
lean, pale, high-boned, dark-haired, dark-eyed, and physically
attractive. My type. Everyone in the book talks about how they have
the same gestures, how they're so alike. People—as examples Raz,
Svid, and Luzhin—react to them the same way. Luzhin especially underscores
the point. While he keeps his deluded idea of Dounia, he wants her, but once he sees her for
who she really is, he hates her as much as he hates her brother.
"Hmm, wonder if I should mention the flirting,
sexual current that I get from Svid's dealings with Rodya. I think
Svid feels Dounia might save him, but he feels that Rodya is as tainted
as he is and would understand him. No. Mr. K is cool, but I
doubt anyone else would be. So I'll have to keep that one to myself."
Brian had still been bouncing like Tigger
while painting and dictating notes when his mother opened the door.
"Bri, it's 3:30 am. What the hell are you doing?"
"My homework, Mom." It surprised
Brian to see that he'd already finished half the room.
"Go to bed!"
"I can't. All my furniture's out
in the hall."
Once his mother convinced herself that
he wasn't on amphetamines, she eventually connected his mood swings to
something he should be medicated for. Go figure. Brian's father
would beat both their heads in if he found out she had a psychologist put
Brian on medication, but after the divorce she seemed to have decided that,
while she usually neglected Brian, he was her possession to do with as
she pleased.
Brian hated the medication. It transformed
a colorful, sharp-edged, multi-textured world into something dim and dull
perceived at a distance, as if he watched his life on an old TV.
It wrapped his brain in gauze and blunted his intelligence. He went
from swinging between elation and depression to an even indifference.
Every drug they made him try had a similar effect. Eventually he
told his mother that he could either be an A student or sit there stoned
into listlessness. Since she had big plans for him, entirely different from his father's plans for
him, she couldn't have his grades affected.
Dad wanted him to be a police detective
and Mom wanted him to be a doctor. He became a writer and freelance
monster killer. Life was funny that way.
Brian recently read some of the Consortium's
reports on the Kitsune line and discovered that the bipolar disorder was
connected to his intelligence as he'd suspected. More specifically,
to the combination of empathy and intelligence the scientists had engineered
into the line.
Some day he would tell Mulder that Mulder
had been genetically engineered to be what he was. The news hadn't
bothered Brian, who had dealt with the idea that his parents weren't really
his parents months ago, but it might shatter Mulder. Angel had been
amused that her DNA had been tampered with before she was abducted, and
that Bill Mulder had only a tiny role in her genetic heritage.
A light voice snapped him from his reverie.
"Can I get you anything, sir?" the waitress asked as she looked him over
with great interest. Perhaps she thought his interest in what looked
like jailbait might extend to the right waitress if she stood there at
the right time.
Shit, people really did see him differently
without the scar. She didn't do the eye flick to the left side of
his face even the most polite people usually did when they saw him for
the first time. Of course she didn't, not when there didn't seem
to be anything unusual there. "No, thank you," Brian said. "I'll
be on my way." Unable to bear the way she looked at him a second longer,
he left before she could say another word.
Trench coat flying behind him in the wind,
Brian left the stolen car behind and walked without really noticing where
he was going. He tried to figure out where Mulder would be at this time
of day and realized that he might be out of luck.
Mulder could be on a case anywhere in the country instead of in his office
or at home here in Virginia.
Suddenly Brian realized that he had a car
following him. He put his hand to the gun in his shoulder holster
and arranged himself so he could use a nearby bus stop bench for cover.
Then he identified the driver and started to smile.
Krycek pulled up to the curb and yelled
out the open passenger window, "Mulder, I have some information about the
UN's secret troops that you might find interesting. Get in."
Without a word, his smile deepening by
the second, Brian got into the car.
"Baby got an alibi
As he got into the car without the usual
preliminary fight, Mulder said, "Could we stop off at my apartment first?
I want to check something. You can drop me off a few blocks away
so no one notices you there."
It amazed Krycek to hear Mulder speaking
reason. For all his paranoia, Mulder had a tendency toward recklessness.
"You sure you're okay, Fox?" Krycek asked.
Mulder smiled a bittersweet smile that
made Krycek's heart flip. "I'm just a little down, Alex, but I feel better
seeing you. With all the times you've popped up the last few days,
it's almost like we're having a stable relationship."
Ouch. Well, that was Mulder.
"I wish I could be around more often." He did, more than anything.
At some point, without Krycek realizing it, Mulder had become a kind of
addictive drug to him. He wanted so badly to touch Mulder, but one
of the many disadvantages of having only one arm was that driving had to
take up his whole attention. He never meant to get this attached.
"Fox, you cut your hair?"
"I had to. It kept flopping into
my eyes. I had it done as soon as I got back. You like it,
don't you?" Mulder looked a bit nervous as he waited for Krycek's
opinion.
Fox had chopped off that beautiful hair
again. "Oh, yeah. I like it." Years in the spy business
and on the run had given Krycek some idea of when to tell the truth and
when not.
He stopped two blocks away from Mulder's
apartment building. As Mulder got out of the car he gave Krycek a smoldering
look and said in that throaty, raw silk tone that always undid Krycek,
"I'll be right back."
On the strength of that look, Krycek decided
that the cut wasn't that short and that it might be interesting to see
if the freshly barbered ends of that silky hair felt as sharp and crisp
as they looked. He settled down to wait.
Mulder sat in his apartment in the dark
feeling like the lowest piece of slime to walk the earth. Scully
had left feeling so obviously happy with his little confession, secure
in the thought that she knew and understood it all. He hadn't directly
lied to her, but his omissions could fill a book.
More knocking at the door surprised him.
As he walked over to it he knew that if Scully stood there he would tell
her everything. He opened the door and instead found himself dressed
for work and waiting there. For a moment he thought he'd finally
lost his mind. He remembered in a moment that a number of clones who looked
just like him were out there wandering the country, but he could think
of only one who would do something like this and that one had an easily
identifiable scar on his face.
"God, Mulder, if you like the outfit enough
to wear it for a second day, you can keep it," the Mulder looking at him
said. "Is there some meaning to your choice of shirt?"
"I'm going to kill you, Brian." He
looked down at the black T-shirt he wore and saw the biohazard trefoil
symbol with the words, Warning! Biohazard sharps! written in white around
it. He'd forgotten. No wonder Scully kept directing odd looks
at his chest.
"You can't kill me, Mulder. I have
information you might like, and Krycek's nearby with information you might
like." He grinned, but it lacked its usual wattage. "I forgot I had
my camera with me. I should have taken a shot of your face when you
opened the door."
"What about yours?" Mulder asked as his
hand brushed near the cheekbone where the scar should be. He felt
powder.
Brian's eyes slid away, and he turned his
face away. "Angel has arcane talents. Do you want to go or
not?"
Mulder realized that Brian had closed himself
off, a big change from the way he'd radiated his happiness yesterday and
the night before. Mulder kicked himself for not realizing that his
clone would have the same problems with chemically induced mood swings
as he would. Brian was trying to protect Mulder from his depression.
"Yes, I'll go. Wait a minute, did
you pretend to be me with him?"
"Of course I did. After all the things
he's done to me, I would be a fool to ignore an opportunity when karma
drops it in my lap."
At first Mulder felt angry, but the situation
started to appeal to him. "This time, Brian, have your camera ready."
Mulder picked up his cell phone and gun, threw on boots and a leather jacket,
and left with Brian. "So what's this information of yours?"
"UN shadow shock troops have invaded Louisiana
looking for Douglas. They don't seem to care how illegal that is."
"Douglas? Wait, you mean the Englishman
Angel brought to your beach house?"
"The same. It turns out that before
Moreau took off on his messianic trip and Montgomery fried his brain cells,
the two of them were working for the Consortium trying to create a human-animal
hybrid either as a super soldier or a creature the oil aliens would have
difficulty possessing. It all depended on which faction of the conspiracy
involved itself. With the mass destruction caused by the hybrids
and the deaths of Moreau and Montgomery, only one source of any information
about the project still exists."
"Douglas?"
"He was a low level diplomat, not a doctor
or scientist, but at one point he went through Moreau's papers searching
for a way to stabilize the condition of a young woman he cared for.
The conspiracy wants to dredge his mind."
"So it's not just our government."
"It never was. Welcome to the new
world order."
"I am only a rat in a maze like you
Krycek waited impatiently. If Mulder
didn't show up in the next five minutes, he would go in after him.
Krycek never used to have nerves, but he
never worked with other people before. Around them, yes, but not
truly with them and especially never with anyone who had such a self-destructive
streak and reckless disregard for his own safety. Krycek knew that
he cared too much now. He hoped it wouldn't get him killed. Worse,
he hoped it wouldn't get Fox killed. "Going soft in your old age,
Alexei."
When he looked in the rear view mirror
he saw Fox approaching the car—with Brian Kessler? Even as Krycek
readied his gun, he wondered what the hell was going on. He also
had the feeling that he was about to get screwed.
Both of them walked up to the open window
and leaned toward him. Brian had longer hair... like Mulder's.
Revelation hit with a few flashes of light.
"Mulder" tucked the tiny, professional
spy camera into the pocket of his trench coat. "That was beautiful.
Almost made up for the fiasco in California. On second thought, no,
Krycek has a lot more suffering to do before he makes up for that."
"Will you make copies for me?" "Brian"
asked.
"Sure. What size prints do you want?"
"You're both so funny. So that was
Brian in the car earlier?" Krycek asked. He'd done that sort of thing
to other people countless times but didn't like being on the receiving
end, which still didn't mean he'd learned some warm and fuzzy lesson and
intended to change his ways.
"Yes. Don't be mad," Fox said before
he leaned in and gave Krycek a thorough kiss that stopped his breath.
Fox must have just crashed on the couch after returning home yesterday
because he still wore the same clothes and still smelled faintly of sex.
Fox's lower lip felt rough and further reminded Krycek of their time in
that men's room stall at the airport, Fox biting his lip to stop himself
from being too loud as Krycek deep-throated him. The kiss and the
memories made Krycek go hard, and his hand moved to the back of Fox's head to bring him
closer.
Dimly, his brain reminded him that he had
parked on a public street in broad daylight only two blocks from Mulder's
apartment. Being glad to see Fox didn't make this public spectacle a good
idea. Krycek helplessly imagined what this must look like, especially
with Fox's magnificent ass, clad in tight jeans, hanging out into the street.
Krycek, regretfully, backed away.
"We have to go," he said, his voice sounding low and harsh. Fox smiled
lushly and walked around to the passenger side. Krycek realized that
Brian already sat in the back seat and had no idea how he got there.
"Mulder unlocked the door while he was
kissing you," Brian said.
Krycek's felt an initial burst of outrage
quickly followed by rueful appreciation. "Not bad, Fox.
You're learning." "So what happened to your scar?" Krycek asked.
"Makeup," Brian answered in a monotone
too quickly, too casually. Krycek took note immediately. It
could be useful.
"Brian, now that I know it's you, I have
to say that I really hate your haircut."
Brian flipped him off but with very little
of his usual energy. Krycek decided that he would have to figure out the
cause.
As Fox handed Brian's bag back to him,
he said, "Brian tells me you have something for me."
By sheer force of will, Krycek managed
not to say any of the five double entendres that came to mind although
he couldn't avoid thinking, "Oh, do I, Fox". "The UN is on the
move against somebody, and they've invaded Louisiana to do it. I
figured you'd be interested, and I have some things at my apartment I think
you should see."
From the look on Fox's face, he had to
fight back some dirty thoughts as well. "You have my full attention."
As he started the car Krycek gave a final
look in the rear view at an unusually subdued Brian Kessler. Kessler
probably had information of his own that might be wheedled out of him with
the right prompting. Looking at Mulder's clone sprawled lithely out
on the back seat, he also had no doubt that Kessler could be useful in
other ways.
As Mulder sat at the kitchen table in Krycek's
spare apartment and argued with Brian while Alex acted alternately as referee
and instigator over what the UN really intended, Mulder realized that he
was enjoying himself immensely. Talking things out with Alex and
Brian reminded him of playing racquetball but with two very good
players at once. He lobbed an idea out and watched it ricochet off
the walls before one or the other returned it to him with a new spin and
direction, daring him to send it back.
Alex had a vibrant intelligence to go along
with his deviousness, while Brian used a mind similar to Mulder's to look
at ideas from angles different from the ones Mulder would choose.
It amazed him to see the way they sparked inspiration in one another and
him. They all three meshed together so seamlessly and fit so well.
Mulder wondered if Alex and Brian saw it too.
Mulder had missed seeing Alex like this.
Their recent encounters had involved incredible sex but little of the talking
and interplay he'd enjoyed during their partnership years back. What
they did now felt almost as good to Mulder as sex, and in some ways he
found it more satisfying.
Mulder couldn't stop looking at Alex or
wanting to touch him. Sexually, he'd gone from famine to feast and couldn't
stop the urge to gorge himself now against future deprivation. It
bothered him that every battle between his mind and body lately had his
body winning with almost no effort. He needed to think now.
Watching Brian in his current state almost
made Mulder depressed himself. He'd seen Brian like this before,
but never so soon after seeing Brian on a high. Only yesterday Brian
had all but crackled with an energy and enthusiasm that swept up everyone
around him. It seemed that, amazingly enough, Brian had even higher highs
and lower lows than Mulder did.
Looking tired and irritated, Brian paced
the kitchen floor. "Of course our government, or at least certain
factions of our government, know the troops are here. Hell, I'm sure
they invited them. Our government may give out stories of owing billions
in dues, but the money gets to the UN through less public channels.
"I'm not being naive; I'm just wondering
why they let the UN people in when they could have their own American operatives
do it," Mulder answered.
Alex smiled. "You're learning, Fox,
but their quarry is a British citizen and a former minor UN diplomat.
Aside from that, Angel blackened some eyes when she rescued him and the
whole rest of the security wing inmates from that institution in England.
There's no way they'd leave this one to the Americans." Alex had
taken off the prosthetic arm when they reached the apartment with the explanation
that, since it chafed and hurt him, he only wore it in public. Mulder
had been appalled that he had been fucking Krycek all this time and never
learned that before.
Brian sat down and started typing into
his laptop computer. Without looking up, he said, "I'm still wondering
how they figured out where he was."
"Don't look at me. I didn't know
where he was," Alex said with the most ingenuous look he could manage.
"And if you did?"
"Hey, this isn't going to turn into a fight,"
Mulder said as he saw Brian start to vibrate with anger.
"This is important. Leaks are dangerous,
and I want the leak responsible for this matter closed. Permanently."
Only a lunatic would argue with the look on Brian's face.
"Don't worry, we will."
Brian nodded without much satisfaction
and pulled out a pocket watch. The watch had another chain with a
small cross dangling from it entwined with its own. After getting
the time, he put it back in the pocket of his suit pants.
"Brian, that's not your usual cross," Mulder
said.
Brian stopped stroking his currently invisible
facial scar. "Huh? No, it's not." He put his hand down when he realized
what he was doing. "Did I take any of the makeup off?"
"No."
"Shit. I was joking when I referred
to that stuff as spackle."
"The cross, Brian?"
"It was a gift from an English teacher.
After Bethie's disappearance and my parents' divorce, I became withdrawn
and threw myself into my schoolwork. A lot of teachers wanted to
save me, but Mr. K was the only one who wanted me to save myself.
During one of our talks once I mentioned an interest in religion, so he
gave this to me as a graduation present and told me that I should never
be afraid to be myself, whatever that turned out to be. It wasn't
like that, Krycek."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to. I started wearing
it after my father's death and only stopped when Angel gave me the pure
silver one I wear now." His gaze went further into the distance. "I wore
this during the road trip. Anyway, I still keep it with me."
Brian shut down the computer and stood up. "I have a call to make." He
picked his trench coat up off the chair.
"Brian, you could make the call here."
Mulder said.
"You're still a naif. It could be
traced here. Trust no one, remember?" Brian shook his head
and left.
Alex laughed. "You're dying to eavesdrop
on that call, aren't you? You know he's phoning Dark Angel."
"I won't go."
"Why not? Who would it hurt?"
"If Brian wanted me to hear, he would invite
me to listen. Besides, I don't think I could eavesdrop without him
being aware of my presence."
Alex laughed again. "I'm corrupting
you."
"Yeah." Mulder sat down astride Alex's
lap, put his arms around Alex's neck, and kissed him. Mulder settled
against his heat and relished the feel of him.
Once again, in Alex's presence the doubts
left him. Mulder could still feel guilt, he never entirely stopped
feeling guilt, but it retreated to a dark, far away place where it didn't
bother him. Right now conscience and responsibility didn't matter to him
at all. This was as close to free as he ever felt
"Like you said, with all the times I've
popped up the last few days, it's almost like we're having a stable relationship."
Mulder shook his head. "I didn't
say that."
"You didn't? I'm sorry, that was
Kessler channeling you."
"He was that convincing?"
Alex seemed to be choosing his words carefully,
aware that he could come off badly with the wrong ones. "You share
a lot of things but not as much as he showed me during that ride.
He did your gestures, posture, facial expressions, and vocal inflections
perfectly. The only difference was that he's more careful and circumspect
than you are. The Consortium should have given up on him as an irrevocably
tainted control Kitsune and used him for black ops like some of them wanted
to."
Mulder rubbed himself against Alex and
smiled at his groan. "How does he measure up to the other Kitsune controls
you had?"
"What?"
"You told Brian once that you fucked two
of the other Kitsune controls for the Consortium. So you knew them.
Is he anything like them?" Mulder couldn't resist the urge to prick
at him, to watch him scramble. From the look on Alex's face, it seemed
that Alex was furiously thinking of ways to say something that wouldn't upset Mulder, not realizing that
it didn't upset Mulder, not right now. Mulder only brought it up
for the entertainment that came from watching Alex squirm.
Brian's return saved Alex the trouble.
"Everything's fine. You wouldn't believe the accent she spoke with
after spending so much time with Cajuns and Douglas. I'll be leaving
you now." If he had any thoughts or feelings about the scene that
greeted him, he kept them to himself.
"Why?" Mulder asked.
"I was up all night and need to sleep.
I'm a fifth wheel here. I'll find some cheap motel and crash."
Alex looked from Brian to Mulder then said,
"You can stay here. I have two bedrooms. It wouldn't be a problem."
Mulder wondered what Alex intended but
said, "I don't want you to feel like you have to leave, Bri."
Mulder could feel Brian struggling to focus.
"Okay, thanks."Brian wandered down the hall to the bedroom.
"You never get that bad. As your
clone, shouldn't Brian's disorder be exactly like yours?"
Mulder decided not to be surprised that
Krycek knew about the bipolar disorder. "It could be a slight genetic
drift or some sort of environmental factor at work. I don't want
to talk about it." He went back to one of his new favorite pastimes:
teasing Alex. He tongued Alex's ear and rocked against him.
Mulder purred as he felt Alex's erection through two layers of denim.
"I've created a monster," Alex groaned.
"Are you sorry?"
"No. Take off your shirt."
Mulder took his T-shirt off slowly, luxuriating
in the feel of the cotton sliding over his sensitized skin, putting on
a little show for his lover. When Alex pulled him closer, Mulder
moaned at the touch of Alex's rough sweater against his nipples.
Alex reclaimed Mulder's mouth, exploring its hot interior with his tongue,
then moved lower, marking Mulder's neck with hot kisses.
A sudden scream broke them apart.
"Damn, he started early," Alex said, his voice rough with frustration and
desire.
Mulder fought with himself then stood up.
He couldn't leave Brian lost in a nightmare if he could do anything to
stop it. "Stay here. I'll be right back. I swear this
won't take long." He rushed down the hall so he could help Brian and then
return to what he had been doing.
"Pale as a candle
Krycek stayed in the chair for a full half
minute before he silently followed, needing to see. He quietly pushed
the bedroom door open and watched Mulder struggle with Brian, who panted
and fought like a demon. Waking Kessler up appeared to have become
secondary to Mulder preserving his own life. "Brian! Brian,
wake up! You're safe!" Suddenly Brian gasped and went limp.
Mulder cocked his head and got that intense,
inward-focussed expression on his face that always made Krycek hot.
Mulder leaned down and breathed on one of Brian's wrists. Brian moaned
and bucked.
"Now when I do something like that, I get
yelled at. He's not even awake, Fox," Krycek said, making Mulder
jump. Fox gave him a slightly guilty look that warmed Alex's heart.
This was the Fox he knew, not the one he'd just seen in the kitchen.
"I am now," Brian said, still sounding
groggy.
"The truck dream?" Fox asked.
Brian nodded, his eyes shimmering with
what might have been unshed tears, then asked, "What the hell was that?
It felt incredible."
"I thought your problem with your wrists
was completely psychosomatic but it seems that the scars really are sensitive.
Your phobia about having things encircle your wrists is all in your head
though."
"Lovely. You have a one track mind,
Mulder, do you know that? Sorry I made a nuisance of myself. I'll
go back to sleep."
"Brian, it hurts me to see you so depressed.
I thought maybe Krycek and I could do something to try to... lighten your
mood."
Krycek stopped breathing for an instant.
Did he hear what he thought he heard?
Still fuzzed with sleep, Brian looked unusually
vulnerable. He looked at Mulder with eyes that glittered with fear
and questions. Can I trust you? those eyes asked. Mulder nodded and
stroked the still-hidden scar on Brian's face the way you'd try to calm
a frightened animal.
"Okay," Brian said softly as he looked
from Mulder to Krycek.
Krycek knew Brian to be a world class manipulator,
a natural talent who had the added advantage of training with another world
class manipulator. Krycek admired that, even as he told himself not
to fall for it. But Brian looked so young and so vulnerable without
his usual caustic wit to shield him. Krycek felt trapped by that
exposed look and by the trust Brian had so obviously placed in Fox, that
confidence that if Fox said it would be okay, nothing bad could possibly
happen to him. The wrong move on Krycek's part could hurt Brian and
double hurt Fox, who had finally trusted him with Brian. What a gift.
"Why the hell are you both trusting me?"
Fox gave him an affectionate look that
made Alex's heart turn over. Alex really didn't want to hurt either
of them any more than he had to. "You're going soft, Alexei.
Soft in the heart and soft in the head."
Fox gave him a look that said, Wait, and
started to lavish a gentle, sensual affection on Brian. Feather-light
touches at Brian's wrists and soft kisses alternated with what looked like
Mulder whispering something in his clone's ear.
Alex had watched them together once in
a club's basement hallway, but what he saw now didn't even belong to the
same species of making out. He felt a deep pain at the gentle tenderness
he saw as he realized that he could count all the tender acts shown him
on one hand.
Fox gave Alex a saucy look over his shoulder
as he started to undo Brian's suit pants. First those came off, then
the black silk boxers, leaving Brian in a dress shirt that still kept him
modestly covered with its trailing tails. Then, to Alex's disbelief,
Fox got up off the bed and hung the pants up.
Brian started to laugh. "You bastard!
That's why you wanted to get into my pants?"
Fox had an exaggerated look of innocence
on his face that didn't stop him from looking like the cat that ate the
canary. "They were wrinkling." Apparently he knew exactly the
right tone to take. He got back onto the bed behind Brian and held
him spooned against his bare chest, both of them kneeling, stroking and
kissing him all the while. Fox sent Alex a look that said, Now.
As Alex settled in front of Brian, Brian
had such lust, confusion, and trepidation in his eyes that Alex felt a
wave of nostalgia. Just like Fox that first time. When Alex
kissed Brian he could feel Fox's hands rubbing against his chest even through
his sweater as they undid Brian's shirt buttons. To Alex's
amazement, Brian even tasted almost like Mulder, saltier than the last
time with less of that sugar sweetness. Whatever Brian had been doing
that required him to pass for Fox Mulder, had it really required him to
do something that would make him even taste like his twin? Once again,
Alex sighed at black ops' lost opportunities.
Keeping in mind what Fox liked, Alex started
to suck and nibble on one of Brian's nipples while pinching the other one.
Brian's head abruptly lolled back against Fox's. Brian whimpered
and rippled against him, and Fox groaned. Realizing that his every
move made Brian push and writhe against Fox, Alex started to alternate his own movements to manipulate
Brian's. It gave him an incredible feeling of power to be making
love to both of them at once.
Alex wondered if this responsiveness and
sensitivity had been engineered into the Kitsune line. If so, he
gave thanks to every single black-hearted scientist responsible.
Alex felt two pairs of talented, long-fingered hands on his back roving
under his sweater, and he leaned further into Brian, who leaned back into
Fox, who hit the headboard. Again. And, from the sounds he
made, didn't seem to mind at all.
Brian lost himself in sensation.
The weight and very capable lips and tongue of the man in front of him
and the feeling of Fox's pounding heartbeat, hard nipples, and even harder
erection at his back distracted him completely.
Fox knew he'd be bruised the next day but
couldn't bring himself to care. Alex's every move sent Brian's shuddering
body sliding and rubbing against Fox's own in a different way. Brian's
hair—soft with sharp, crisp ends—kept brushing against Fox's neck, and
the thin layer of cotton separating Fox's chest from Brian's back enflamed
him. As he felt close to exploding Fox marveled at Alex's artistry,
that he could do this to him long distance. His hips thrusted involuntarily
against Brian's ass, sending Brian forward into Alex, whose own dry thrusts sent
him back. If Fox didn't get his pants off soon they would never come
off.
Two similar voices groaned, "Alex/Alexei,
please... "
Alex grinned and pulled Brian off Mulder,
who, even as he moaned at losing the contact with Brian, immediately started
to strip the rest of the way. Deep in lust, Brian lost all trepidation,
took the initiative, and flung Alex back down onto the bed. Brian's hands
stroked Alex's groin and started to remove his pants as Brian devoured
Alex's mouth. Despite being dazed by the erotic attack, Alex still
had enough thought left to be thankful for once for the Kitsune line's
tendency to obsessively and single-mindedly follow through to the end.
Finally free of the encumbering jeans and
boxers, Mulder stared at his two partners in disbelief as they rolled on
the bed kissing madly and rubbing wantonly against one another and completely
ignoring him. After he'd set this up.
Resisting the urge to whine, "What about me," Mulder instead lost himself
in appreciation of Brian's firm ass and two sets of long, muscular legs
tangling and untangling. Alex gasped out endearments in Russian as Brian
stroked him, and Fox could swear that Brian understood what he was saying.
Mulder searched through the drawers near
the bed and quickly found condoms and lubricant. That didn't tell
him anything about Alex he didn't already know. Fox left them on
top of the table and moved in on Alex and Brian, kissing Alex and stroking
down Brian's spine until he hit the small of his clone's back, a particularly sensitive spot, to make him
writhe. The three of them rolled on the bed like sparring kittens,
stroking and kissing whoever was handiest at the time.
Knowing that they couldn't hold out much
longer, Fox got the condoms and lubricant. He stroked the condom
onto Alex's cock and let Alex warm the lubricant in his hands, all the
while keeping Brian heated up by rubbing against him and lewdly tonguing
his ear. Alex smiled at the thought that his lover had so many talents
he kept hidden or at the very least misused most of the time. Fox
could do so many more rewarding things with such an ability to handle three
different tasks at once. Alex decided that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making sure
Fox used his gift the right way.
Alex stroked his lubricated fingers down
the crack of Brian's ass until they found their destination and pushed
upward. Brian grunted and, to Alex's delight, tried to push down,
to bring them deeper. He seemed to be more than ready. Alex
removed his fingers and pressed the head of his cock against the opening,
pushing in just a little before pulling out again.
"Please," Brian moaned.
Alex thrust in and groaned as the heat
and tightness surrounded him. Brian gasped and moved against him
in ways that maddened Alex even through the sweater, which he cursed himself
for not having removed sooner. Fox came in close and crushed them
both against the wall as his own fingers—Alex wondered when Fox had lubricated
them but he had to admit to himself that, busy as he was, he might not
have noticed—plunged into Alex's ass and moved with the rhythm of Alex's
thrusts into Brian. Fox's other hand seemed to be pumping Brian.
With the last bit of thought left him,
Alex reached out and grabbed Fox's cock at the base. Surprised, Fox
stared at him and stopped what he was doing. "You don't get to come
yet. I'm saving you for later. But not much later," Alex rasped
as he panted. Fox grinned and started again, making matters worse
by trapping Alex hand between his and Brian's bodies as they moved.
When Alex felt Brian's muscles start to
contract around his cock, he screamed and tried to remember not to let
his hand tighten as he came. Brian exploded in Fox's hand and slumped
back against Alex. "Oh, God," Brian gasped.
"Alex—" Fox grated as he removed his fingers.
"Coming," Alex answered with an exhausted
chuckle. He disengaged from Brian, who whimpered at the loss, and
put a condom on Fox's straining member. "Fuck me, Fox."
Fox turned him around with the aggression
Alex loved and entered him swiftly and cleanly, with every stroke fast
and deep. Aroused past finesse, Fox more than made up for it in thoroughness.
Alex screamed his name repeatedly. One of the neighbors banged on
the wall, but he figured losing the lease wouldn't begin to pay for having
this night. Fox finished with one last shudder.
As they all passed out among the sticky
sheets, Alex felt both of them burrowing into him. He should have
guessed that Brian would be a cuddler too. He smirked and went to
sleep.
"What can I say?
Alex awoke later to the muffled sound of
computer keys clicking at great speed. His outflung arm encountered
only Fox, who muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Again"
before he rolled over. Alex slowly disentangled himself from Fox
and stood. His kissed his lover's cheek then put on a robe and went
out to investigate.
Brian had showered and dressed and now
typed on his personal laptop computer like a demon. He must have
had spare clothing in his computer bag because he now wore black jeans,
a blue-black T-shirt, a silver cross on a long chain, and the studded collar
with the chain ring hanging from it. He had his gun in the waistband
at the small of his back. Lost in concentration, his tongue occasionally
flicked out to touch his lower lip. Alex shivered, knowing what else
that tongue could do. Brian's head moved to the music from his headphones.
Brian must have heard him somehow though,
because he turned to face him. "Sorry, couldn't sleep. I'm
writing. I'll stop if the noise is bothering you." This had
to be one of the highs. Brian all but glowed. It freaked Alex
out.
"No, no, it's okay," Alex mumbled.
"No, it's not. Go back to bed, Alexei."
Brian stood and kissed him in a way that he would have done something about
a few hours ago but could now only sigh at. "I'd only keep the both
of you up." Brian took Alex's arm and steered him back into the bedroom,
tumbling him into bed with a gentle push. As the door closed and
returned the room to total darkness, Alex found Fox's body by touch and
snuggled in before sleep claimed him again.
Hours later Alex woke again to total silence
and the feeling of something missing. Fox stirred against him and
muttered, "What is it?"
"Something's wrong." As he picked
his gun up off the night table, Alex saw that Brian's suit pants were missing.
As he made his way around the apartment he saw that everything of Brian's
was missing, with Brian gone as well. He got a bad feeling.
He opened up his secret cubbyhole and went
through his papers. Only another professional would be able to tell that
they'd been rifled through. Alex knew by instinct that Dark Angel,
who could speak Russian, hadn't been there, but Brian had that camera.
He could take pictures and bring them back to her to translate.
When he returned to the kitchen, he saw
that Fox was up and sitting at the table with the bleakest expression on
his face. He clutched a note in his hand. "Alex," the name
sounded suddenly bitter on Fox's lips, "this note told me what you've been
doing lately in Tunguska. What you did to that boy, when his only
crime was to witness something your employers didn't want anyone to see.
It told me... what you're going to do later today. The people you'll
meet, the deal you intend to make."
"But—"
"Brian knows Russian, Krycek. He
learned it in high school so he could read some of his favorite novels
in the original language."
"If you heard my reasons—"
"What? I wouldn't be disgusted and
appalled? That's why you never told me these things, right?
This is too much for even me to explain away."
"Fox—"
"Don't call me that!" Mulder got
up and stalked away searching for his clothing.
"I can't let you leave like this, Fox!"
"How are you going to stop me? With
threats and restraints? If you do that you will have already lost
me."
Krycek slumped forward against the table
with his head in his hands. As Mulder got dressed as quickly as he
could, he ignored the tearing sobs that came from his throat. When
Mulder left and started running, Krycek didn't follow.
"Don't believe what you hear
As Mulder ran, he realized that he had
just missed another morning of work without any notice, that Scully would
be arriving at his apartment again to wonder what had happened to him.
If she saw him now, running panicked, confused, stinking of sex, shaking
with fatigue, wearing two-day-old clothing, she'd probably call the men
in the little white coats to take him away at last. If he told her
how he'd gotten like this, she would lock him away and throw away the key
herself.
Fuck it all.
He hadn't told Krycek everything the note
said. He remembered the rest of it: "I'm sorry I had to skip out
on you, Mulder, but Angel needs backup with another car. She flew
down to Louisiana but has to drive back since Douglas' picture has been
given out to every airport, train and bus terminal in the country.
She should be in Tennessee by now.
"When I went through Krycek's papers I
prayed I wouldn't find anything. I hoped that what looked like his
greater commitment to you these past few days meant that he would be putting
all the really horrible stuff behind him. If so, I never would have
told you the things I know he's already done. But then I saw that
deal he has planned and wanted to go back into that bedroom and strangle
him myself. Sera would have. But I couldn't.
"I love you, Mulder. Have the strength
to be what you have to be and do what you have to do, whatever that turns
out to be. Brian"
Mulder wore the small cross around his
neck along with Brian's clothes. He would return it to Brian when
he caught up with him again. He would find out where his twin had
gone and follow.
Krycek sat at the table and slowly calmed
himself. Hysterics didn't do a damned thing. He let the ice
into his soul so he could think out his next move.
He wanted Fox back. Needed him back.
He would find out where his lover had gone and follow.
Then he would do whatever needed to be
done.
Hoping to Fall
Into Grace I
by Viridian5
"I'm fooling somebody"
—"Numb" by Portishead
Too much
I'll take whatever you're giving:
Not enough
...
—My misheard lyrics from "6 Underground"
by the Sneaker Pimps.
I can't find my way,
Been searching, but I have never seen,
A turning, a turning from deceit
...
Tried to reveal what I could feel
I can't understand myself anymore,
'Cause I'm still feelin' lonely, feelin'
so unholy"
—"Numb" by Portishead
—"Shame" by Stabbing Westward
Dressed all in black and with charmingly
smudged makeup, she looked like a club kid who decided to avoid sleep after
all, chasing fatigue away with coffee and pastries. When he sat at
her table he could feel everyone wondering about him, maybe thinking him
some ordinary businessman or federal employee slipping out of work to dip
his toe into the dark side of the pool with a younger Gothic mistress.
Beyond the sociological interest he felt as a writer, Brian couldn't bring
himself to care much.
Baby got eight more lives"
—"Atom Bomb" by Fluke
"Baby got pain on tap
Baby give me some of that"
—"Atom Bomb" by Fluke
3. DEPENDENCY
And only the dead go free"
—"4.41 AM (Sexual Revolution)" by Roger
Waters
"Talk me down
Safe and sound"
—actual "6 Underground" lyrics by the
Sneaker Pimps
So many people are so scared that the
UN is going to take over as a world government and supercede the United
States without realizing that our great country is at the forefront of
that movement and means to be top dog in it." As soon as they'd arrived
at the apartment Brian had taken off the trench coat and suit jacket and
rolled up his shirtsleeves. Mulder wondered how Brian could have
stoically suffered the feeling of the shirt cuffs against his wrists for
so long.
4. CAGE OR SHIELD
And your face is hot
And if I touch you
I might get what you've got"
—"99.9 Fahrenheit Degrees" by Suzanne
Vega
5. TURNABOUT
I don't want to play anymore
What can I say?
I'm heading for the door
I can't stand this emotional violence
Leave in silence"
—"Leave In Silence" by Depeche Mode
6. WHAT DOES FOLLOW
Don't believe what you see
If you just close your eyes
You can feel the enemy"
—"Acrobat" by U2
"Perfect little dream
The kind that hurts the most
Forgot how it feels
Well almost"
—"Gave Up" by Nine Inch Nails
