The Truth, The Whole Truth, And Nothing But The Truth by Windra Garrison Part 1 Alex crouched lower on the hard wooden bench trying to escape the overzealous scrutiny of the principal's secretary Kim. He threw her a scowl hoping she'd retract her obvious stare and go back to work. What it did do was prompt her to drop her pen and sigh. He balled his fist in annoyance wishing he could slug her. Not just her. Anyone. Everyone. All the assholes with the /I feel so sorry for you/ mask splashed on their innocent faces, trying too hard to be politically correct when all they really wanted to do was gape at the circus clown. Entertain themselves at the expense of someone else's sorrow. Because then they could forget their own pitiful empty lives for a second while they granted themselves the favor of conditional acceptance as a member of the tribe as they forgot a dismembered member of the same tribe. An outcast whose only redeemable purpose was to remind his mates that fate rarely had a meaning and that they too could and probably would someday fall victim to the whimsical madness of chaos. Alex philosophized the loss of his arm while impatiently waiting for his day to contiune and all the change it had wrought in his life. But he was overextending himself without realizing it. Straining his brain to conquer while simultaneously compensating for his lack of alpha male prowress when all he really needed to do was think like a typical 17 year old boy whose only goal was to see how many times a day he could unzip his pants for something other than urinating. All he needed to do was relax and let the hormones do their job. All he needed to do was comprehend the universal language of lust and understand that the only thought revolving in Kim's head was what a sin it was that this gorgeous green eyed boy was only 17, well that thought combined with the mental note to check the calendar and see what day he turned 18. To see what day she was legally obligated to do something more than stare. "She's old enough to be your mom," commented the petite redhead who had just deposited her tiny frame next to his on the bench. Alex made no move to turn his head but surveyed the girl as best he could using his sharpened peripheral vision. "Your nursery school closed today?" he snickered. A small handed curled in a fist and slammed into his right arm with surprising force. Alex turned to face her. "You have something to say?" she demanded. Alex's response was to edge away from her. He'd already played punching bag once today and he really wasn't in the mood to do it again. "Run into a blackboard?" she asked snaking out a hand to point at his eye. "Shut up," he muttered and kicked the bench hard enough to jolt the books she was holding out of her lap and onto the floor. "Asshole." "Bitch." "Don't call her that," ordered the young man who had just come into the office and was casually leaning against the doorframe. "What's it to you?" "Boys," the secretary warned. The lanky boy in the door spit something into his hand and nodded a silent agreement to cause no trouble. Then he sat down on the other side of Dana Scully. "You're new," he said, more a statement than a question. "Fox Mulder," he introduced and extended his hand which she accepted and then replied, "Dana Scully." "So, Scully tell me. Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrial lifeform?" Dana did not hide her surprise. "What, like what they found in that rock from Mars?" Alex snorted. "No, like little green men with antennas and silver space suits." Mulder jumped up, leaned over Scully and grabbed a fistful of Alex's collar, pulling tightly. Tight enough to cause him discomfort. "Mulder stop it!" commanded the secretary. Faces inches from Alex's Mulder whispered, "I'm going to kill you one day." "Probably," choked Alex when he was set free and was straining to gulp down as much air as his starved lungs could handle. Mulder backed away reluctantly. Hitting Alex was a rush. He could never get enough of it. He guessed that's why his ass warmed this bench as much as it did. "That wasn't very nice," Dana remarked. Oh what do you know? he thought. He's not as innocent as he looks. "He killed my dog," Mulder explained. Dana looked at Alex who was rolling his eyes. No one said anything more and at that precise moment a large muscular balding man in his mid forties strode into the outer office and waved the boys inside. The two rose and followed without a word, the tension between them hanging in the air like a pregnant storm cloud, electrical and unresolved. "Are you waiting for an engraved invitation Ms. Scully?" "Sir?" she asked. "I have an important meeting in forty-five minutes. You're all in trouble. Why should I waste my time yelling at the three of you separately?" His tone told her he was serious so she gathered her books tightly against her chest, jumped off the bench and rushed into the office where the two boys were fighting again. Principal Skinner reached a powerful arm into the melee of tangled limbs and pried the two apart. "He killed my dog, sir!" Mulder protested. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've heard it all before. Everybody sit down." Skinner gracefully put his own large frame into a too small chair behind his green metal desk and slid back on squeaky wheels to open a filing cabinet that refused to budge no matter how hard he pulled. It creaked and groaned until one last angry tug pulled it free. Skinner retrieved two book thick files from it and slammed them on his desk. He then proceeded to open the drawer above it and extract a new manila folder that seemed to hold nothing. "You two end up in here five more times and you'll qualify for free marriage counselling." Mulder's face flushed red from anger but Skinner focused his attention on Alex who had his eyes closed and was running through the plans for the evening. "Didn't I recommend a good gym for you?" he growled. Alex opened his eyes and gave the principal a hard glare. "I could kick his ass to Pluto and back," he stated matter of factly, "I choose not to." Skinner snorted and muttered wuss under his breath but Alex heard, prompting him to withdraw a small notepad from his left shirt pocket. He borrowed a pen from Skinner's desk and nonchalantly scribbled /homework assignment/ across the top of the paper and then wrote /15 ways to shut Skinner up with a garden hose/. "What are you doing?" "Wouldn't you like to know." Alex smirked. "Handy hardware tips for the suburban assassin," Mulder supplied. "Mr. Mulder would you care to explain why you felt the need to set up surveillance on the nurse's office?" "All the freshmen girls are getting physicals this week?" Mulder offered lamely. "Where's your posse at?" "My posse sir?" "Where are they?" "I don't know," Mulder said as he checked his watch. "It's 2:30. They're probably watching soap operas. Another World most likely. Or Guiding Light. They switch. Whichever has the cutest babe of the week." "I don't find you amusing Mr. Mulder. What were you doing there? Need I remind you that," Skinner picked up the thick file and waved it in Mulder's face, "I have ample evidence to kick your preppie butt outta here. Don't make me call your father in," he threatened without much reaction except a hearty laugh from Alex. "You think that's funny immigrant boy? How about I call in your papa?" "Trahai tya!" "Sir!" Scully admonished the principal. "That wasn't a very politically correct thing to say." "How about you army brat? You think you're dad's going to be happy with his little soldier when he realizes she doesn't know the first thing about taking orders?" Alex and Mulder both glad not to be the center of Skinner's attentive wrath were delighted to watch someone else be on the receiving end of his mighty bark for a change. "Your dad's military?" Mulder asked cheerfully. "Navy." "Why were you spying on the nurse?" she asked curiously. "Something's going on Scully. Something weird." "In the nurse's office? Like what?" "Aliens," Alex scoffed. "Huh?" "They've been inoculating all the freshmen girls with something unusual." "They're taking TB tests this week," Skinner informed him. "That's a cover. That's what they want you to believe." "Then enlighten, me Mulder, please, what are they really doing?" asked Skinner. "I'm not sure. Some kind of gene experiment maybe." "To do what?" Skinner said as he rapped his knuckles against a stack of paperwork. Mulder get to it. I've got to share something at this meeting and it better not be pity stares and the BPA retirement guide. Mulder leaned forward in his chair. "Like I said, I'm not sure. But I would imagine it's something nefarious." Mulder of course it's something nefarious. These men don't just kick back with a bowl of popcorn and a six pack to watch the game. "Does this have something to do with the time you wrecked the equipment of the stage tech crew claiming aliens landed on the football field?" "They did." "They were putting on a production of Beauty and The Beast." "On the football field?" "The school's short of money. The stadium holds more people." Dana, who had been slowly inching her chair away from all the crazies in the room was stopped when the door opened behind her, her chair impeding it's process. In walked a grey haired man in running shorts, a tee-shirt and a whistle around his neck. "Coach. We're busy," Skinner gruffly acknowledged the unwanted presence. Just when he was finally getting somewhere. He did not like to be interrupted. "Fox has a game." "Not today he doesn't, D.T." "The team needs him." "Yeah, the team needs me," Mulder came to his own defense. "When have you ever been a team player?" Alex observed. "The Truth is out there warming up. You know we can't beat them without our star shooter." "Crusade can go it alone today. In fact Mulder's permanently off the team until I say otherwise." "What?!" asked the coach and Mulder simultaneously. "You heard me. Coach, if you don't mind I have business here." "We'll talk later Fox," D.T. assured the young man and hurried out of the room. "Okay, Mr. Krycek, I see you went shopping again today," Skinner read off the latest perpetuated crime from the top of Alex's file. "What was on special today?" "Oh, you know, the usual, petri dishes, test tubes, a microscope or two," he said aloud, not voicing what he'd really taken. "Whatever I can stuff in my jacket. It's not like there's any security to speak of around here." But, he thought to himself as he carefully manipulated his face so that his smile wouldn't surface, you don't really need to know what I took Skinner. You'd think you'd know by now that I'm too good to get caught. Wouldn't you love to know that today's bargain for the taking was the high tech fancy gene equipment I ordered courtesy of the well dressed British biology teacher who keeps telling me I'm wasting my potential. The one who thinks he can play chess with Spender and win. Of course the beauty of it it is that the old uptight prude doesn't even know that his budget for the next ten years was spent, courtesy of me, and that he's never going to see what all the great toys his allowance from the school board bought me. And then there's always that other juicy tidbit. Wouldn't you and Mulder just love to sink your fingers into the fact that he's also fucking the doctor giving the physicals. Alex smiled ruefully to himself. Blackmail was icing. Everyone crossed a line eventually. And Alex was ready and waiting to use it. He doubted the old dude's grandkids would take too kindly to grandpa's indiscretions. He being such an honorable man and all. His contemplation was interrupted by Mulder who was saying, "Alex, Alex, Alex, I've told you over and over that your futile amateur attempts to play Dr. Frankenstein and regrow your arm are purely the beguine imaginings of someone who can't even grow refrigerator mold on old bread," Mulder taunted. In an outburst of boiling rage the normally passive Alex jumped up and delivered a swift and fierce blow to Mulder's nose, causing his chair to overturn leaving a stunned Mulder gazing at the ceiling and blood trickling from his nose. Scully sought out Skinner with her eyes but found him wearily shaking his head. She turned her attention to Alex whose chest was heaving with spent anger. And for the first time since first seeing him she noticed the his left sleeve was dangling too loosely at his side. "Y-y-your arm," Scully stuttered. Alex inhaled deeply, plastered an emotionally devoid mask on his face and answered, "Freak shop accident with a saw." "H-h-how is that possible?" "Ask Mulder. He did it." "You cut off his arm?" Scully asked as she helped Mulder back to his feet. "Krycek, the lab equipment?" Skinner prodded as everyone returned to their previous positions. "Well you know what they say, when you can't afford it take it from someone who can." "That's not what they say," Scully piped up. "Who cares? Why are you here anyway?" Alex wanted to know. Scully closed her mouth and stared straight ahead, refusing to stoop to the level of insanity circulating in this office. Skinner dropped Alex's file and retrieved Scully's. "Scully, Dana. K. Do you have a problem with authority?" "Well, no, not particularly but if you'll note that in each case in question I had a perfectly valid reason for exerting such aggressive behavior." "You told your calculus teacher and I'll quote, /that his educational level and knowledge was akin to a primitive Neanderthal and despite all his advantages of technology that the primitive Neanderthal could still compute better than he could using such rudimentaries as sticks and stones/. Is that accurate, Ms. Scully?" Alex and Mulder looked over at the petite redhead whose cheeks now added a very complimentary shade to her flaming hair. Both were impressed. "Mr. Firstelder is a moron with a huge speech impediment." Skinner stifled a laugh. "That may be, Ms. Scully but I can't have you going around verbally desecrating my staff. Your record clearly reflects your above average intelligence. If you're not being challenged we can get you in some AP classes." "I am in the AP classes." "Well then I suggest you learn to keep your comments to yourself until you graduate. I don't want to see you back in my office again." "You won't sir." "I had better not. Dismissed." "What, you're not giving her detention?" Alex inquired. "Sir you can't just let her off with a warning," Mulder agreed. "Actually I had something better in mind. You three are going to paint my house this weekend." "What!? You can't do that!" cried three voices at once. "Oh, children I can do anything I want. It's called creative discipline and if any of you have a problem with it I can always exercise my authority to expel you." "No problem, you have enough paint brushes?" Mulder asked. "What time?" Alex grunted. "You are acquainted with the term lawsuit aren't you sir?" Scully challenged. "Quite. It doesn't phase me. I'll see you kids at 8 a.m. sharp on Saturday morning. Part 2 Mulder paced Scully with enough distance so that she didn't know he was following her. He could've asked the Gunmen for her address but it was just as easy to do a little old fashioned detective work. Besides he was hoping for an opportunity to persuade her how vital it was she help him gain access to a military base. His prey spun swiftly, pivoting on her heel to face him as he idled along the sidewalk. "You're following me," she accused. "Yeah," he conceded. Why do the dance? "Here," she said as she transferred her heavy backpack to his empty hands. "If you insist on following me I'm going to have to insist on you being useful." The weight of the pack caused Mulder to groan but her hard stare cut off his spattering of expletives. "There a bowling ball in this?" "I don't bowl," she said with grave seriousness and walked faster now that her slight frame was no longer burdened with the extra weight. Mulder offered her a sunflower seed but she scrunched up her face and muttered something about empty caloric content and the lack of nutritional value. After two blocks she finally spoke. "Why did you cut off that kid Krycek's arm?" "Not you too!" "Not me too what?" "Because he's the cover boy for GQ's special edition: Handicappeds in High Schools you instantly assume that he's the victim. What about me? They took my sister godamnit. What's losing an arm compared to losing a sister?" "Anyone ever tell you you're odd not to mention mean? The correct term is physically challenged. And I don't care if he did kill your dog. It's gotta be pretty shitty to have only one arm. You're just jealous that he's better looking than you are." "Slightly paranoid, spooky, but no, never odd. Looks are deceiving." "I'll keep it in mind." Scully stopped in front of a one story ranch house where two boys were in the driveway playing basketball. "This is it. I'd invite you in but my mom taught me not to bring home stray cats or sociopaths," she waved her hand impatiently for him to hand back her bag. "That's not very hospitable." "It's policy. Scram." Mulder returned her pack and walked over to the court, caught a rebound and sunk a basket. "Nice shot," praised the younger boy. "Wanna play?" "Sure," Mulder accepted. "Charlie it's one on one. Three players is too many," commented the taller boy Bill. "I'm tired. You two play. I'm going inside. Hey Dana," he called as he jogged over to his sister. Dana gave Bill a secret nod that communicated he should give Mulder a hard time. Not that she needed to. Bill immediately disliked the smart ass kid that came home with his sister. A half hour later Mulder was doubled over trying to catch a breath when Bill slapped him on the back. "So you staying for dinner?" "Yeah, I just need a moment to wallow." Dana was pouring some orange juice for herself when Bill entered the kitchen. "Did you clobber him?" She was swallowing when a sweaty Mulder walked in the kitchen. "Smashed my pride in the blacktop. I'll never live it down, Scully." Dana choked on her juice as she unleashed her icy glare at Bill. "Hey, can I have some of that?" She shoved the carton in Mulder's hands, sloshing sticky liquid all over his shirt. "Help yourself." The incessant knocking at her door continued. "Go away. He invited you. Go be his friend," she called out over the din of music she'd turned on to cover the sound of his fist making repeated contact with the door. "That's not true. I want to be your friend." "No!" "I need your help," he pleaded. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the door an inch, closed it after a moment's reflection and then reopened and let him in. "What kind of help?" she queried as he nosily started perusing through her stuff. "Put Jeffrey down this minute," she screeched as he picked up her pet ferret that was napping on her bed. "Relax. I know what I'm doing. I'm animal friendly," he demonstrated by gently stroking Jeffrey's back and was rewarded with a bite as the creature wiggled out of his grasp. "Well?" Dana demanded, placing both hands on her slim waist for emphasis. "I need to get on X-Base." "They have tours every Wednesday and Friday." "The top secret labs aren't on the tour," he answered her gravely. This guy was certified for sure, Dana surmised. But she would confess to herself that he was slightly interesting if not altogether entertaining. She'd completed all her homework in study hall and the only thing on her agenda for the evening was to surf the web searching for the latest news on her favorite actor David Lea. And as exciting and thrilling as that was it could wait. "Secret labs?" "Well, yeah, Scully. It would be too difficult to carry out something of that magnitude at say Fort Deitrick or somewhere that kind of testing is normal." "So you're deducing that instead of hiding something in plain sight where no one would begin to suspect anything... well anything suspicious, that they'd conduct secret experiments at a base that is strictly a maintenance and equipment operation?" "The whole U.S. government can't be in their pocket. It would take too much time and resources to coordinate everything efficiently at such a high level security facility. It would be too much of a risk to chance losing everything for a simple breach in the chain of the command." "Who's they? Are you suggesting that the United States government is concealing the existence of aliens?" "No. Not the government. Some of the megalomaniacs who think they run it." "Are you on some kind of medication?" "No," he laughed. "It does seem a little preposterous, but I assure you it's not. I'd offer you some concrete evidence to back my theories but unfortunately every time I've gathered physical evidence it's been stolen." "Of course it has." "Look I have to move quick on this and that's why I need your help. This thing in the nurse's office. It's not their style. According to my source something big's going down and that's why I need access to the base." "You have a source?" "That's where you come in," he explained as he ignored her sarcastic disbelief. "I can't get you access to the base. I only have a visitor's pass. That won't get you into restricted areas." "No," he agreed, "but your dad's would." "You want me to steal my dad's id?" Her blue eyes opened wide at the impossibility of what he was asking. "I can't do that." "Not steal. Borrow," Mulder clarified. "Excuse me?" "Borrow. I just need you to borrow it for a few hours, then the Gunmen will have a blueprint to make me a fake one. They'll access personnel files and come up with an identity of someone matching my description." "Why should I help you? I don't even know the first thing about you." "What do you want to know?" "I'm sorry, I can't help you." "Come on Scully," Mulder begged. "It's your duty to your fellow humans to uncover the conspiracy. You'll be a heroine." "I don't want to be a heroine. I want you to go home and leave me alone." "You don't mean that," he teased. "I do," she said as she shoved him toward the door. He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, I'm leaving. Think about it." "Where've you been?" asked the old man as he puffed on his cigarette. Alex ignored him and went to the grab the clipboard hanging behind the cashier's counter. He briefly glanced at the list of the day's assignments and then held out his hand for the keys. "What does Mulder know?" "Nothing. He knows what you want him to know and nothing more." "Ah, good, I was starting to think..." "Well you thought wrong." Alex suddenly found himself jerked against the counter roughly. "Never underestimate the power of my thoughts unless you're ready to make other arrangements. Are you?" "N-n-no," Alex stammered in fear. Or at least what he hoped sounded like fear. Nothing like revealing your intentions too soon to doom the plan to failure. "I didn't think so," Mr. Spender gloated. "The truck needs loaded," he said as a sadistic grin stretched his wrinkled face even wider. "The address is in the glove compartment." "And how the hell am I supposed to load the truck?" Alex protested. "Next time wear the equipment. It's a fine prosthesis. Why you're too stupid to wear it, who knows? Such a waste. Well are you going to stand there all night or are you going to get to work?" Alex turned his back and practiced all the self control exercises he'd learned over the years. He wasn't going to give the smoking carcinogen the satisfaction of displaying his handicap. Because it was only physical. And anything physical could be overcome. His mental senses were more sharpened and prepared to walk a slippery slope. He was already calculating and plotting his next move before he exited the back door. After repacking the last box and changing the manifest to match inventory, Alex pocketed the vial of amber liquid, crawled behind the wheel and headed down the highway to make his delivery. He knew it would've been smarter just to switch the vials but the black lunged bastard would discover his deception more quickly that way and time was something Alex didn't have to waste. He was hoping that his repeated attempts to help Mulder would have lead to something by now, but Mulder had an uncanny knack of getting caught in the act by the legions of black ops troops a la Spender and forfeiting the goods in the process. So Alex had started collecting his own bargaining chips, his means of protection from the consortium that had controlled his life long enough. All he needed yet was to connect the dots. And the consortium had left plenty lying around. Okay, so Alex had to engage in some serious subterfuge and had to exercise his honed thievery skills to get these links to the puzzle. It hadn't been easy. But it had been worth it. And if things went as planned he'd have a straight line leading to the truth, with Fox Mulder's help of course. Alex completed the delivery to the Mulder house as quickly as possible. He didn't like coming here. He didn't like feeling sorry for Mulder. Alex's family life wasn't ideal by any means, his parents were dirt poor and could barely speak English but at least they were honest and decent. They didn't do...couldn't do...weren't capable of doing the things Mulder's folks had done for the project. Alex shivered in spite of the temperature he'd generated from the physical labor of unloading the boxes. But then he smiled wryly. Spender didn't know it but it was the first time he'd come here that had made him reevaluate his decision to sell his soul for a good four year college and a bank account that would retire him by thirty-five and ensure his parents would be set for life. No Spender had no clue that he'd turned traitor almost instantly. And if all worked out he'd still be choosing the college of his dreams. He'd have the power. He'd call the shots. With that happy thought circulating cheerfully through his brain he headed back home to catch a quick bite before heading out for an evening of information gathering. And he sure as hell hoped it went without incident. Part 3 Dana tried to focus on what her sister was rambling about, crystals, herbs and the power of the mind to heal the body, but her mind was elsewhere. On what Fox Mulder was doing. And why she shouldn't help him. Why it was ludicrous, what could happen if she did, if her dad caught her. If dad caught me, she thought gleefully as her heart leaped in anticipation at the possibilities. "Dana is something wrong? Your aura is cloudy," asked a concerned Missy, cutting off her endlessly boring monologue. "No," Dana snapped irritably and when she saw the look of hurt on her sister's face she change her tone. "Nothing's wrong and my aura isn't cloudy. I just remembered that I have some homework for government class that I forgot about. Can you read my cards some other time?" Because right now I have to smuggle dad's id out of the house and give it to Mulder. "Sure. Some other time. You promise?" "I promise." "Good. It wouldn't hurt you to believe, you know?" "I know," Dana said as she gave her sister a quick hug and proceeded to make a detour to her dad's office to discreetly borrow his pass. When the pass was safely deposited in her pocket, she headed down the hall to her room, put on a sweater and crawled out the window, wondering what she was going to demand Mulder give her in return for her criminal subterfuge. Alex had just finished going through the filing cabinets and was extracting the information he deemed most vital when he heard a loud click in the door causing him to scurry into the supply cabinet. "Damnit Mulder you're early," he cursed under his breath. I didn't even have time to search the refrigerator yet. "And remind me to teach you how to break in without waking the dead," he grumbled as he gently shut the door, leaving it open a crack so he could see what Mulder was doing. Shining his incandescent beam haphazardly around the room Mulder discovered the small refrigerator and proceeded to search its contents. He unzipped the front of his backpack and removed some foam padding like the kind hospitals use as mattress pads. He then carefully placed several vials of ambiguous looking liquid matter into it. From his limited view Alex could tell that they were the same as what he had delivered to Mulder's dad earlier that day but even from a distance he could see that one of the vials contained something black and murky. That was new. That he didn't have. He longingly watched Mulder place the tube of black liquid in his back pocket as he ran out of space on the foam pad. Mulder deftly finished his task, put the foam back in the pack cautiously and zipped it up. When he was finished he swiftly made his way to the filing cabinet hoping for the paperwork to back up the physical evidence. He had slid the top drawer open and was perusing through the paperwork with flashlight nestled between his teeth when he heard voices in the hallway. He randomly ripped out some files and stuffed them in his pack in case he had to make a hasty exit and didn't have a chance to come back. He removed the flashlight from his mouth, switched it off and searched for a place to hide. Not knowing the supply closet had an occupant he decided it would have to do and wasn't prepared when he was yanked back by the collar and shoved face first into the wall decorated with wet, used, and smelly mops. His nose crinkled in protest and he tried struggling but to no avail. The hand holding him was too strong. "Keep your mouth shut Mulder," the husky voice warned him as the outer door creaked open and the overhead light turned on. Mulder nodded yes that he would keep his mouth shut and Alex reluctantly let go. He found himself disoriented by the loss of contact and had to mentally restrain himself from reaching out and pulling Mulder closer. Which was absurd he knew, because the space was cramped and confined and they couldn't move without touching each other as it was but still that wasn't enough for Alex. So he backed into the opposite corner, closed his eyes and listened carefully to identify the voices. Mulder was spying through the crack. "Check the refrigerator," suggested the man who Alex and Mulder knew as their principal. Alex opened his eyes and looked at Mulder curiously. /Did you know/ his eyes asked. Mulder shook his head no and Alex moved a little closer so that he could also peek out the crack. "Nothing," the other tall black man said with irritation clogging his tone. "I can't waste my time any longer. We need proof, Skinner. Proof. Not hunches. Not theories. I thought you said this kid was in the loop." "He is. I don't know where he gets his information, but it's good." "Of course it is," Alex whispered under his breath, allowing himself a moment to gloat, unaware that Mulder was watching him intensely. "If it's not here," Skinner continued, "then someone else got here first." "What did that Krycek kid say?" the black man asked. "He didn't. He won't talk. But he knows something." "Then find out what it is. If we don't get this case wrapped up soon, budget cuts are going to work in their favor. And I don't know about you, but I'm tired of this cloak and dagger shit. I don't want to see that scumbag walk because of some Senator's insistence that our department gets more funding than necessary." "What do you know Alex?" Mulder's voice caressed the back of his neck causing the tiny hairs to rise as shivers ran the length of his body. That if you don't move away in about ten seconds I'm going to give you a taste of why it is you love to hate me so much, Alex thought but said nothing. "Did you hear something?" the black man asked Skinner. Alex had Mulder's back pinned against the wall before Mulder could react to the astonishing prowess and grace of his one armed closet buddy. Not that he wanted to think. Alex's body pressed firmly against his to hold him in place was more than enough to cause a pleasurable friction that cut off the blood supply to his head. Added to the sensory confusion was Alex's lithe hand covering his mouth and nostrils making it difficult to breathe effectively and causing his chest to heave unsteadily. But he wasn't entirely convinced it had anything to do with a lack of oxygen. He had to escape this suffocating desire before Alex became aware of just how much he, well his body, liked sharing personal space with him and as close as they were there was no way Alex wouldn't feel a hard on jutting into his hip. So he decided to set forth a strategy to ensure his release. He pushed against Alex's warm palm with his lips and then his tongue when Alex refused to budge. Sucking in a deep breath Alex croaked, "W-w-what do you think you're doing Mulder?" He didn't get an answer. He couldn't. Not with those lips and tongue moving in concert to the rhythm of his own unconfessed desire. What he did get was a pair of lust filled hazel eyes staring at him with a mixture of fear, loathing, and excitement. "You know what Mulder? I think you're right. I can think of a better way to keep you quiet." Swiftly and surely, before his confidence left him, Alex removed his hand and replaced it with his lips. It was even better than he had imagined. And while social honesty held little persuasion for him he'd never made it a habit of obfuscating matters of self. Therefore his mind was honor bound to admit that fantasies of kissing Mulder had occupied a large percentage of his time, but he never thought he'd get to do it. And in every fantasy he'd seen himself in the role of seducer and agressor. He certainly never thought Mulder would be kissing him back with the same desperatiion and fervor that he himself possessed or that their foray into passion would be equally demanding or that there would be absolutely no resistence and no need to cajole or persuade. Mulder found another use for his tongue and plunged it deep into Alex's mouth and he felt a jolt of pleasure shoot straight to his groin when Alex moaned in response. They devoured each other with all the frenzy that latent, pent up unresolved sexual tension emerges as when its reigns were unleashed and it was allowed to roam free. Mulder knew he shouldn't be doing this. Alex was his enemy, but god it felt so good. It's what he'd wanted. Had always wanted. Since he'd first seen the modern day Adonis on his front door stoop holding a box full of gardening supplies. He'd hoped then that they would be friends. Or more. But they'd both made choices that prevented that, and now, now he was being granted a favor. If only a temporary one. He didn't care. He had all the time in the world to regret it later. Mulder placed his hands on Alex's hips and ground their pelvises even tighter together. Alex purred and began rubbing up against him like a cat, increasing the sensation and drowning out the voices of the men who had decided their night was a bust, turned off the light, shut the door and and left. Alex made use of his good hand to slide it under Mulder's shirt, tracing outlines of his ribs and proceeding upward to circle the hardened nubs of Mulder's nipples. Mulder arched forward at the exquisite touch. He'd never regretted the accident that had permanently damaged Alex but now that he knew what mind altering things an Alex hand could do he was wishing for two Alex hands to torture his body in this achingly sweet pleasure. That hand was now sliding around Mulder's back and descending beneath the waistband of his jeans, stumbling past the elastic of his cotton boxers until it touched bare, naked flesh. He cupped a firm buttock in his hand and was massaging it while Mulder reached between them and gently squeezed the denim encased bulge of Alex's that wanted to be freed of the constricting material. "You too," Alex spoke in ragged breaths as he stopped his exploration, removed Mulder's hand from his pulsing blood engorged penis, put it back on his hip and pressed himself as tight against Mulder's own erection as he could. They started rocking against each other gently at first and slowly increasing the pace until they were both on the verge of coming. But as the fates would have it, orgasm wasn't on the agenda tonight. In the midst of their moaning and groaning neither heard Scully searching the office or her footsteps approaching the closet. They were absorbed in nothing but each other and the concept of release until they found themselves the unwitting objects of Scully's scathing stare. Alex used the confusion to his advantage. As they were extricating themselves from each other and the closet, Alex managed to snag the vial of black liquid from Mulder's back pocket and high tailed it out of the high school. Mulder made a feeble attempt to run after him but he realized that he didn't know what he'd do to him if he caught him. He didn't know where they stood anymore. He still hated him, he was sure of that. He still wanted to smash the gorgeous face and feel the crush of the bones beneath his fingers but he also felt something else. Something unidentifiable. Something closer to euphoria than rage. So he went outside and waited for Scully to catch up. "I thought about it," Scully told Mulder when she found him. "And I didn't think I'd find you and Krycek in the closet going at it like kids in a petting zoo." "Neither did I. I don't know why he was there." "Is this some kind of joke? she scoffed. "No. No joke Scully. It was an accident." "An accident is spilling a glass of milk or boiling a hot dog too long and having it burst," she sardonically claimed. "Humor is not appreciated right now," Mulder informed her. "Okay, what did you find out?" "Skinner's involved in this somehow. And Al...Krycek knows who my source is. Why are you here Scully?" "To give you this," she said as she removed her dad's pass from her coat and handed it to him. Part 4 Walter Skinner was just finishing his third cup of coffee when a knock on the door destroyed the modicum of serenity he'd managed to attain. He'd been up for two hours already, had done his morning exercises, finished the weekly housecleaning chores and as he reluctantly got up to answer the door he was doing more than a little regretting that he hadn't wielded his authority as principal to give those kids detention instead of ordering them to paint his house. A nice round of leisurely golf was looking more appealing every second as his feet slowly propelled him to the front door. When he got there he stood for a few seconds before punching in the security code for the alarm. Who was he kidding? He believed in those kids and he wanted them to have a future to fight for. Even if they did get on his nerves. They were in need of a little tough love, he thought as he peered out the peephole of his front door and saw Alex Krycek standing there in old paint splattered sweats and a dour expression lining the angled planes of his face. His large hands deftly deactivated the alarm and he grunted as he as he opened the door and beckoned Alex inside. He momentarily felt sorry that he'd involved the new girl in all of this. Alex and Fox in each other's company for an entire day was something only the strong or mentally deformed should have to endure. The unresolved sexual tension between the two was a palpable living breathing creature with a mind of its own. And he wished like hell they'd just do something about it already. He was tired of being reminded what a bust his own sex life was. "Grr, grr!" Sharon growled at the new guest. "It's not gonna bite is it?" Alex asked while he tried to will his body not to tremble in fear of the pit bull bearing its teeth at him. He desperately wanted to back up as it pranced forward, its claws clicking on the linoleum. Bad idea, he told himself. Dogs may be dumb but not dumb enough not to sense your dumbass fear. He gulped as Skinner just stood there not calling the dog back. "Bite," Skinner rasped in disgust. "Boy, you need to toughen up. Maybe I should talk to your dad about military school." "Huh, what?" "If Mulder takes a swing at you today, swing back. That's what," Skinner told him as he gently pulled at Sharon's collar to command her to settle. "Hey man, I'm lookin' forward to those Tae Bo classes as much as the next guy but I told you I am not into violence." Skinner was about to expound on the necessity of violence as a useful tool in building self-esteem when the sound of two voices chattering away outside interrupted him. Well one voice was chattering, the other was unsuccessfully trying not to laugh. "You're late," he said as he swung the door open. "Sir, with all due respect," Scully pursed her lips, "you're lucky my dad thinks I'm on a field trip." "Oh and why is that Ms. Scully?" "Because this is a democracy. A democracy with rules. Lots of rules. Rules that do not include engaging students in hard labor as a punishment." "Well," Skinner replied thoughtfully, "they should." Mulder nudged Scully's side. "He was a Marine. That strategy is not going to work. " "Yeah, Scully," Krycek chimed in, "this is nothing. You don't want to see the basement. Trust me on that one." "The basement?" Scully asked "Trust you?" Mulder scoffed as he found his fingers curling around a fistful of gray fleece. "You want roach goulash for lunch Mulder?" Skinner growled and Sharon backed him up with an even fiercer growl. Mulder reluctantly released his strained fist. "No sir. I had a hearty breakfast." "It better have been Lucky Charms," Skinner commented, "because if I have to pry the two of you apart with a crowbar..." He let the threat dangle in the air. He didn't know what he'd do. He had a raging headache already and he had the distinct suspicion that before the day was over he'd be begging the doctors for a lobotomy. "Pst, Pst." Scully wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and made a gallant effort to ignore Mulder who was making his best effort not to work. She hastily checked her watch. 11:45. Good. It would soon be lunchtime. She hated to give Skinner credit, but he was right. This was a good deterrent to getting in trouble. She couldn't remember if she'd ever worked this hard in her life before. She kept painting. By now she'd established a rhythm and had almost maneuvered her mind into a blissful state of meditation. Almost being the key word. Mulder was more annoying than the bumble bee who had mistaken her for a flower. She swatted at it with her free hand but it wouldn't go away. It had insinuated itself on her neck and panic was starting to overcome her. "Mulder! Mulder!" she screamed. Scully this is better than expected, Mulder mused as he dropped his bucket and ran over. He was wondering if they'd ever find a way to get inside the house. "Get it off! Get it off me!" Scully was flailing and Mulder found it difficult to see what she wanted off her. A shrieking "ow" burst forth from her lips and the thrashing stopped. By now Alex had trotted over to see what the commotion was all about. "What it is?" he asked with genuine concern. Mulder gently lifted Scully's hair from the nape of her neck and immediately honed in on the stinger still protruding from her skin. "Bee sting," he told Alex as he placed the stinger between thumb and forefinger and tugged it out and got a kick in the shin for it. "Give a girl some warning," Scully mumbled. "Hey it's not like I stuck it in you," he complained as he let go and rubbed his sore shin. "You really are a pervert you know that?" she said with a hint of amusement. "It's his only redeemable quality," Alex stated. "I'll go in and see if Skinner's got a first aid kit," he volunteered. Mulder lifted his head to meet Alex's eyes and he nodded once to indicate that he would uphold his end of the bargain to search Skinner's house while they were there. Scully had just given Alex the perfect excuse to go inside and do some digging around. And the timing couldn't be better. Skinner was mowing the back lawn and over the noise of the lawn mower hadn't heard Scully screaming. "If you get caught I'm denying all involvement," Mulder said. Scully rotated her head and moaned. "Oh god, not the Hardy Boys." "I thought you said you didn't read stuff like that," Mulder teased. "I don't. I watch. Shaun Cassidy is a babe." Both Alex's and Mulder's mouths twitched as Scully stared off into space. "Deny it all you want," Alex whispered huskily as he brushed past Mulder to go around to the side door. Mulder shivered in spite of the heat. Alex perused the desk quickly, his razor sharp instincts directing him to open the pencil drawer and grope the ceiling of the drawer until his fingers found a small clear case duct taped there. He hastily ripped the tape away loosening the case and pulling it free. He carefully studied it a few moments and then replaced it. Whatever he was expecting to find that wasn't it. He left the desk to check around for some kind of safe. Skinner wasn't the type of man to be unprepared for an emergency. He had to have a fireproof box stashed somewhere. His roaming eyes guided him forward. "Ah ha," he cried as he pulled back the throw rug and went to work. When he finished, the fanny pack he had concealed beneath his baggy sweatshirt was filled with a digital tape, a squashed alien fetus, and a palm sized computer labeled The Morely Files. Maybe house painting's not so bad after all he thought smugly as he stealthily exited the room and headed to the bathroom for the first aid kit. Skinner turned off the motor, took off his shirt, balled it up and starting wiping down when all hell broke loose. He wearily rubbed his eyes while he decided if he should bother intervening. He whistled for Sharon to follow him as he made his way around the side of the house. The last thing he needed was for his neighbors to call the police. "Liar," Mulder breathed against Krycek's ear. He was tempted to bite the whole thing off. But he wasn't about to give the world an even greater excuse to pity one armed boy. "Hey," Scully whined. "My neck?" Krycek gasped as his head was forced into the sand even further. He could feel it gritting against his teeth. He tried twisting his head but Mulder when enraged developed a superhuman strength. He was going nowhere. "Mulder pull his head out of the sand now!" Scully ordered. Feral sparks radiated from his green eyes as he turned to face her and shook his head no. "Yeah man," Alex choked. "I'm not ready to go the way of the dinosaur just yet." "This is my game. Mine," Mulder hissed. "What's it going to be ratboy, resist or serve?" He shoved Alex's head against a bright red and black fire truck for emphasis. Alex contorted his whole body until he was wriggling like a snake beneath Mulder trying to shake off his captor. Nothing like full body contact to dissuade Mulder. Mulder groaned. "You always cheat Alex," he groaned as he reluctantly backed off, giving Alex enough room to scramble out of the sandbox. He was more than a little surprised when Alex picked up fairly decent sized plastic toy shovel and whacked him across the side of the head. "I think I'll opt for that rebellion option. I never liked being told what to do," he told a stunned Mulder as he picked up the first aid kit and idly wandered over to where Scully was exposing her neck to Skinner. Skinner grabbed the first aid kit from Alex, "Nice technique," he complimented. "Next time though, keep it my yard. You wrecked Jeremiah's lighthouse sculpture and..." he paused to point at Scully's neck, "he keeps bees. Lots of 'em. I don't like bees, boy," he snarled. Mulder was just rising from his daze when a rickety old pickup truck pulled into the driveway leaving a cloud of exhaust in its wake. He rushed over to the driver's side and yelled "You killed my dog!" to the wrinkled man inside. Dana didn't have a good view but she was starting to get really pissed that no one was paying any attention to her. Damnit, she'd been stung. Who cared who killed Mulder's dog? She wanted some lotion and she wanted it now. Skinner dropped a small mound of antibiotic cream on the red puffy welt where Scully'd been stung and lightly rubbed it in with the pad of his fingertip. "I thought Alex killed your dog," Scully reflected, unaware that she'd spoken the words out loud and found four sets of eyes intensely watching her. "He did," the old man verified in between puffs from his cigarette. "I didn't kill the dog!" Alex defended himself as he found himself being slammed against a tree with a strong forearm pinned against his throat. "Fowley never did anything to you," Mulder declared. "The bitch breathed." That remark removed the forearm and he found it replaced with two hands vehemently clutching at his throat. He sucked in air through his nose as best he could, lungs painfully clamoring for any air coming through the restricted trachea. "What!? You did kill my dog?" Mulder asked with a hint of disbelief. He'd never truly allowed his subconscious to believe that Alex was the real culprit. He'd been hoping that it was the bastard he worked for. "For chrissakes Mulder," Skinner's deep voice echoed across the yard. "It was not a dog. It was a Pomeranian." He used his free hand to pat Sharon's rump. "Now this here is what you would call a certified real dog." "Well, sir, genetically speaking both are real dogs," Scully said as she ran over to the tree, not noticing how the old man in the truck was delightedly receiving pleasure from watching her petite body in motion. "Beating up on cripples is not cool." she told Mulder. "What happened to physically challenged?" rasped Alex. "Alex get in the truck. I don't have all day," the old man leaned out of the window. "Boss man is calling," Mulder taunted and relaxed his hold but didn't let go completely. "Fuck you. I did not kill your dog." "Krycek you killed the dog, now get in the truck!" "Why'd you kill his dog?" Scully wanted to know. Frustration boiling inside him, Alex stunned Skinner for the second time that day by kneeing Mulder in the groin. "Don't touch me again," he commanded as Mulder grunted, bent his knees and sank to the ground. Alex left him there and went to the truck. He opened the passenger door and hesitantly climbed in. This was not how he was expecting the mission to go. How had the old man found out where he was? That annoyed Alex because he knew it meant he was going to be doing something he didn't want to do. And he was so tired of doing things he didn't want to do. But that would all end soon. If things worked according to his haphazard plan. But then again, he mused, life had a way of running on accident. So until then he'd keep swinging at curve balls and hope he hit a homer. He slammed the door shut to piss off the smoking bastard and then he rolled down the window and called out matter of factly, "Ran over. Ran over the damn dog. When you say I killed the bitch you imply there was intention. There was no intention. She ran in front of the truck." Mulder ran up to the truck as it was backing out of driveway. "After you poisoned her with LSD. She was so tripped out she couldn't think straight. She probably thought she was chasing the perfect bone." "Ah, yes, Mr. Mulder," the old man tossed his spent cigarette into the yard. "But do you have proof?" Scully placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as they watched the truck disappear down the street. "I'm sorry." "Don't be. This isn't over yet." Part 5 "Son your friend is here," a loud guttural voice called from overhead. "Der'mo!" Alex cursed as his old man rattled on the locked door to the basement. "Da ty sovsem okuel!" Alex accused his father. But the knocking persisted so he temporarily abandoned his work, carefully placing the test tube back in the rack before heading up the stairs to put a stop to his father's nonsense. "I don't have friends papa," he reminded his dad. "Aloysha, you have a visitor. Open up," his mother called out in softer tones of broken English and he heard his father's heavy footsteps retreating back into the living room. Alex hesitantly unbolted the multiple locks on the door to his basement sanctuary and a tiny hand snaked its way past the chain to muss his hair. "You do have friends." Alex closed the door and unlatched the chain and was frightened, surprised, and somewhat, according to his heartbeat, excited to see Fox Mulder standing there beside his mom. "Khue"vye den'ki nastali." His mother, slightly amused, shook her head and offered to get them some snacks and drinks. "No thanks," Mulder declined the offer. "I can't stay too long." When his mother disappeared around the corner Alex stood aside so Mulder could enter. He then slammed shut the door, refastened the locks and yanked Mulder down the rickety wooden stairs until they were both standing at the edge of his makeshift laboratory. "Holy shit," Mulder whispered in awe. "You did read Mary Shelley as a kid?" he joked. "No that would be your dad." The mocking laughter died in Mulder's throat and the monumental proclivity towards violence he felt in Krycek's presence shifted to the forefront of his vision. He stomped over to a table holding an impressive chemistry set and swiped his arm across it. The satisfying crunch of breaking glass on concrete sent a tingle of adrenaline through him and he was inspired to destroy everything else on the table but something prevented him from paying homage to the god of vandalism. And if he could define what stopped him he'd then have to think about why he was here. And that was a truth he'd avoid as long as he could. "Go ahead. Finish it Mulder. Finish it," Alex taunted. Mulder smiled ruefully and shrugged his shoulders. Alex inhaled deeply hoping to catch some sense of reality in a healthy dose of oxygen. "What do you want?" "To see yo..." Mulder trailed off abruptly. Oh god, he thought, what the hell did I just almost say? What am I doing here? he wondered. To see what the fuck happened in the closet and how you felt about it? To see if it was as incredible for you as it was for me? To see if maybe we could do it again? Mulder could feel the heat rising in his neck and he scratched at it furiously as if that would make the color and obvious evidence of his distress disappear. "To see what you can give me," he recovered. But those weren't the words he'd wanted and if Alex's startled expression was a gauge of anything he wasn't the only one who'd misinterpreted his inadequately structured sentence. More than even your liberal mind can dream of Mulder, Alex thought. But he didn't say anything. Instead he slid the garbage can close to the pile of debris and started gathering the biggest fragments of broken glass. Mulder didn't offer to help and Alex didn't ask. He slowly continued his work until everything was cleaned to his satisfaction. Then he turned to Mulder and said, "Get back to me in another week. It'll take me that long to restore the damage you just did. The information highway is temporarily out of service." Mulder who had been wandering around the lab picking up things laying on the workbenches held up a sleek silver cylindrical object that looked like a super trendy flashlight and flipped the switch to on and was startled when a large pointy needle emerged instead. "Hey," Alex scolded. "Watch where you point that thing." "What is it?" "A sharp pointy object." "What's it for?" "I'm sure you can find some creative uses. What are you doing here Mulder?" "On April 14, 1970, a Baltimore football fanatic and a Virginia dairy farmer looked up into the hazy glow of pollution in the eastern sky to see a large black object streaking to earth. It created a series of rumors and speculations considered to be the most outrageous and most believable of all reported paranormal events in the history of civilization." "What was it?" "I haven't found any conclusive evidence," Mulder said as he put the strange object back where he found it and picked up a rock laying on the same table. He fondled the rock with his fingers. "But I believe it was an alien spacecraft." "It could've been a light aircraft that lost altitude or had mechanical difficulties," Alex explained logically. "No. It landed on property that is now owned by the military. Back in 1970 it was undeveloped wetland with no plans for construction. What else could it be? Why else would the government build a military installation on unsuitable land?" "Because if it's unsuitable it's cheap. And if a UFO did crash there it would've sunk. Wouldn't they want to preserve it? Study it?" "They moved it." "They moved a UFO?" "Yeah, I think they disassembled it and trucked it somewhere else." "How do you know all this shit?" "I watch tv," Mulder impatiently shook his head in disbelief that Krycek would not consider that the media in all their messed up glory provided more truth than anyone realized. It was very convenient. "You've never seen Sightings?" "No. Mulder go home." Mulder gave one last cursory glance at the vial before replacing it where he'd originally discovered it. He then extracted an old crinkled piece of parchment paper from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Alex who batted it away. "Take it," Mulder insisted. "I need your help." Alex permitted himself a moment to gloat before accepting the proffered document. "That must've hurt." "Can you translate it?" Alex quickly perused the faded lettering scattered haphazardly across the dry sheaf of paper. "Maybe," he shrugged. Mulder contemplated if Krycek knew how his simple gestures or tone of voice could provoke a burst of anger in Mulder in a flash. Before Alex had time to prepare a defense Mulder had him shoved against the wall, one strong arm resting tightly across Krycek's throat. "You know Russian Mulder?" Alex growled out in harsh ragged breaths. Mulder relaxed his hold, stepped away and pondered what kind of results he'd get if he leaned in and captured those pouty cupid lips between his own. Seduction as interrogation. What a concept. He sighed as he tried shaking the graphic mental images of the pleasurable possibilities of that game. Before he could clear his head of lusty ruminations Alex coughed and said, I thought I told you not to touch me again." Limbs overriding sensibility Mulder found himself powerless to stop his right hand from languidly rubbing up and down Alex's chest. "I didn't believe you." With a strong grip, Alex grabbed the straying hand and squeezed as hard as he could until Mulder yelped, retracted his appendage and began rubbing his sore wrist vigorously. "Ty mne van'ku ne val'aj." Mulder stared at him blankly. He hated when Alex launched into a string of Russian knowing full well he couldn't understand a word of it. "What Mulder? Should I buy you a translation dictionary for Christmas?" "That won't be necessary. The bulge in my pockets is sufficient thank you," he proclaimed as he shifted, spreading his legs a little to illustrate. Alex gaped in astonishment at Mulder's boldness. But he couldn't say he was surprised. Mulder's kinky humor was infamous. As was his brazeness. The guy had no shame. "No room for a pocket dictionary," he clarified. "Right," Alex drawled in disbelief. "Eidetic memory, huh? Useful skill Mulder but you're underrating the need for a little pocket knowledge." "How's that?" "Well," Alex laughed, "A dictionary is more substantial than Kleenex." "For hand to hand combat?" Mulder joked lightly, testing the boundaries of conversation that had definitely strayed far afield of what he'd originally intended. "Something like that." "What are we talking about here?" Mulder asked. Alex shrugged and refocused his attention on the map. "I don't know. I thought we were doing the typical male posturing tango." "The what?" Mulder laughed deeply. "You know, the my penis is bigger than your penis therefore I'm the most dominant male in the territory conversation." "Oh /that/ conversation. Wanna find out? Compare notes?" Alex wanted to give into the laughter threatening to escape but he wasn't about to give Mulder the satisfaction, so he nonchalantly lifted his eyes and studied Mulder's flushed and hopeful face. "Oh you have one of those surgical saws with you? And anesthetic? Because I know my brain is bigger than your brain Mulder, but if you need proof..." Mulder slugged Alex good naturedly on his right bicep. "We'll see. The map?" he prodded. "I'll need some time," Alex informed him. "Fine," Mulder consented. "I'll just look around some more." "Sit down." Sit down? I don't sit. I'm too wound. I need occupation. I need... his complaints vanished when he found himself the object of Alex's caustic stare. He obeyed and sat on one of the wobbly stools adjacent to the smaller workbench. He immediately searched his pockets for sunflower seeds and came up empty. "Do you have a tv?" he asked hopefully. "Some magazines?" "Sorry. I don't subscribe to the porn rags, but you can borrow this." Mulder snatched the flying Batman comic mid air before it could crash dive to the floor. He noisily perused the comic until he heard, "Hey Mulder you wouldn't happen to have a peg-leg would you? We could be a matching set," followed by husky laughter. "What?" "It's a treasure map. Of sorts." Mulder dropped the comic excitedly. "For a spacecraft?" "Nyet," Alex said absently as he stood up and went to open the cupboard he used as a storage for beakers and test tubes. He'd hidden the vial of black stuff inside. He took it out and sloshed it around wondering for the millionth time what it was. "Black gold." "Hey!" Mulder yelled as he realized exactly where that black stuff he'd pocketed at the nurse's office disappeared to. "That's black gold? Looks like oil to me." "It's not." "What is it?" "I don't know," answered Alex but his tone implied otherwise. He didn't know for certain but he could hazard a reasonable guess. "But you think you might," Mulder said as he inched closer until his fingers were pulling the vial out of Alex's light grip. "Hey, be careful with that. I told you I don't know what it is." Mulder ignored him and examined the vial. To him it looked like ordinary motor oil but Alex's actions indicated that it was something more valuable. He began unscrewing the cap. "Why don't you test it?" Alex moved forward but he wasn't quick enough to prevent the contents of the vial from spilling on the floor and slowly moving toward his foot. "That's why," Alex said in terror as he felt the sticky substance invade his body. His skin crawled in repulsion but there was nothing in his immune system ready and waiting to defend this foreign agent and cleanse it from his system. Mulder watched in horror as Alex Krycek's body writhed and contorted in a meager attempt to shake off whatever the hell it was that had just crawled inside of him. Alex's mouth was open as if to scream yet no sound emerged. His face was a miasma of gruesome imagery denoting panic, terror, and utter disbelief. But Mulder too fascinated by the transformation neglected to offer assistance. Get out of my body! Alex yelled at the parasite with a consciousness. Not until I get what I want, it replied trying to calm its host. What do you want? All in good time, Alex, all in good time. Now let's get Mulder out of here and see if we can make some sense of that intriguing map one of my colleagues must have left behind. Alex inhaled deeply, his concession to agreement. What other choice did he have? When he opened his eyes Mulder was stunned to see a murky darkness slide across Alex's eyes. "You okay?" Mulder asked with genuine concern. "What the hell was that?" "Sometimes I have convulsions. Phantom arm syndrome thing," Alex lied. Mulder didn't believe him. But he couldn't be sure he was talking to Alex either. Whatever entered his body was still there. He was positive. "Uh, Mulder, I don't feel too good. Can we do this another night? I need some time to translate the map." "You're full of crap Krycek." "Most of the words are archaic. Even my grandfather couldn't read them. I need time," he stressed. "Two days. Then I'm coming after you scumsucker." "Hey that's no way to insult me. You haven't seen what I can suck." Mulder narrowed his eyes. Mulder I didn't say that, Alex defended himself from deep inside his brain. He let out a string of curses in every language he was fluent in to the amusement of his brain's current occupant. "Two days and things better be looking up," Mulder delivered his last sentence of their conversation and hurriedly sprinted up the stairs, giving a quick goodbye to Alex's mom on the way out the front door. One week later. "Sorry dude. No can do," Frohike told him as he tried on a new pair of shades. "You guys can do anything." "I assure you that your confidence in our wicked spy skills is highly appreciated but somewhat misplaced. We have neither the instruments or expertise to do what you're asking," Byers the most professional of the three apprised him of the situation. "I'm asking you to locate a missing person. Now how damn hard can that be?" "Did you try talking to his parents?" Langley proposed. "What am I supposed to say? A parasitic alien invaded your son's body for some weird sort of recreational purpose and has led him astray on a galactic adventure? Wouldn't happen to know where they went would you?" "Why not?" Langley wanted to know. "It's the truth isn't it?" "Possibly," Byers answered before Mulder could open his mouth. "They barely speak English. That old guy he works for probably has them convinced he's at a home and garden show." "Hey man," Frohike called out as he removed the sunglasses, squinted his face and came over to where Mulder was standing. He clapped Mulder on the back, "accessing Russia's nuclear weapons disarmament codes is easier than tapping into one armed boy's files. " "Oh please." "No really, Mulder," Byers agreed. "We've tried. Besides Langley's failing gym again and Frohike got caught selling those pirated porn tapes you let him borrow." "What!? I didn't die yet." Frohike shrugged. "Man's got to make a living." "You get an astronomical allowance. Byers?" Byers blushed. "My mom's making me take dance lessons with my little sister." Langley and Frohike doubled over in a fit of laughter and Mulder stared at the three of them in disgust. "Sorry," the three apologized at once. "But don't worry, we'll check some things out." "Oh gee thanks, Mulder grumbled as he spit a sunflower seed on the floor and left. As he was climbing down the tree Byers popped his head out of the window. "Don't forget this," he said as he stretched out his arm and handed Mulder the id he was holding. Part 6 Dana Scully was deeply engrossed in her biology homework when the annoying ring of the telephone disrupted her concentration. "Isn't anyone going to get that?" she screamed. When she got no answer and the phone kept ringing she threw a pillow at the door and debated slamming the receiver right back into the cradle as she picked it up but vetoed it in case it was for her mom. "Hello?" "Scully it's me." "Who?" "Me." "Who?" she repeated. "It's me, Mulder." "Oh," she sighed. "Mulder I gave you the pass. When do I get it back?" "Have you seen Krycek by any chance? Don't you guys have the same chem class?" "Alex Krycek? Your boyfriend?" "He's not my boyfriend!" "Could've fooled me." "Scully. Yes or no. Have you seen him?" "As a matter of fact no. He hasn't been in class all week. I assumed he was sick. Are you telling me that Alex Krycek has disappeared under mysterious circumstances?" "Well, Nancy, sort of." "What do you mean sort of? And who's Nancy?" "You never read Nancy Drew as a kid?" Mulder asked with more than a trace of incredulity. "No. I read classics." "Nancy Drew is a classic!" "Did you call me to discuss literature or your lack rather of being able to define it?" Mulder snickered. "No. I need your help." "Doing what?" "Finding Krycek." "I thought you hated him." "I do." "Then why do you want to find him?" "Because he knows things. And he has the map. I need that map, Scully." "What map?" "The treasure map." Dana couldn't control her laughter and she had to put the receiver on the bed as her diaphragm shook from the pressure of her convulsive outburst. "Are you finished yet?" "Y-y-y-es. I thought you said treasure map. And then I had this image of you skulking about with a pirate's hat and a patch over one eye." "I did. And that map leads to a truth no one ever dreamed of." "You did," Scully pointed out. "I need you to break into the base with me." Scully unleashed a series of curses that would make a longshoreman proud. Mulder stuck a finger in his ear and waited for her to finish before delving into his own speech about how she was essential to the task. "You want me to what?" she demanded. "The pass gets me into the building. I need some assistance getting onto the grounds." "Climb a fence," she advised and hung up on him. But two hours later she found herself at the front gate of the base batting her eyelashes at Danny Pendrell, the night guard. "Are you sure the department head sanctioned this?" asked Skinner nervously as he and his partner took advantage of Dana Scully's diversion to breach the perimeter of the base by cutting a hole in the standard razor coil fence. "You're the department head!" "Oh yeah." "Well that kid damn well better be in the loop. We need solid evidence. I don't know about you but when I went through training I didn't do it to spend the rest of my career sitting beside the metal detector." "What did you get on Spender?" Skinner asked as they reached a concealed door. He nodded his head at Xavier and in less than a minute the man had extracted his all purpose toolman and gave them entrance into a high security government installation. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Xavier answered him. "Not much. He gives the garden club ladies free seeds." Skinner grunted. "Hey, I can't help it the man donates to charity. He and that Mulder kid's dad play poker every Saturday night." "Are you joking? The Mulder clan is strictly stuffed upper crust. Why would he be socializing with the pool guy?" "Gardener." "What?" "You said pool guy. Spender's a gardener." "Pool guy. Gardener. What's the difference." "A considerable one. Chemicals mostly." Skinner sighed irritably. "Get moving. If we don't get a specimen we at least better get them a fancy paper trail. I'll take the labs. You check the offices," he paused to read his watch. "Meet me back here in ninety minutes." As the two men stealthily made their way through the dimly lit hallways Mulder was sliding his fake ID through a machine to grant him access to the wing housing the labs. "That's fascinating Dana," Danny commented even though he hadn't been listening to a word the young girl had said. Something to do with her science class that day but he couldn't be too sure. He was preoccupied with the way the halogen lights of the booth caught her sparkling blue eyes. "So do you think it would be okay? I mean I wouldn't want to get you in trouble or anything but it's really important," she pleaded, hoping her voice conveyed an emotion she didn't feel. "I don't know," he hesitated. "This isn't your average base." "What do you mean?" Dana inquired, genuinely curious. It was supposed to be a normal base. Danny coughed, embarrassed that he was acting so unprofessional in the company of the young lady. "It's maximum security." "You make it sound like a prison, come on, I just want to get my notebook. Please? I never had a B before. I don't think I could handle it," she pouted. Then she touched him lightly on the arm. "Please?" she whispered. Danny wrote something on his clipboard and reached around to grab a laminated special visitor's pass. He handed it to her and warned her to hurry up." "No problem. Thanks Danny. I really appreciate it." She hugged him quickly before getting back in her mom's car. She resisted the urge to floor the accelerator when he lifted the gate but she forced herself to remain calm. She was beginning to think that Mulder was right. Maybe there was something out here. Maybe the government was hiding something other than sex scandals. Alex screamed as much as his parched lungs and dry throat would allow. He'd lost count of the days. He thought he might have been here four or five days. But seeing as how every minute felt like a year he couldn't adequately gauge the situation. His stomach growled in hunger and he kicked the door in anger. It had abandoned him as soon as it got what it wanted. He would kill it if he ever got the chance. Trusting Spender had been a mistake. Didn't it know Spender would trick it and give it the wrong ship? Obviously it didn't care. It was capable of hibernating apparently and was completely oblivious to Alex's terror. Hell just when he thought he'd actually gotten a good deal, what with the knowledge this thing carried around? He had enough to bury emphysema man so deep he'd be breathing dirt for an eternity. Alex had liked that plan. That plan had made him a very happy boy scout. Until he found himself puking up oil out of every orifice in his head on top of a spaceship. "He had been hoping that when it realized it got a raw deal that it would borrow his body again and it could burn their way out of here like it had burned Spender's goons when they came after it. He hoped wrong. It seemed perfectly content to wait a lifetime or two to get what it wanted. The only relief he could seem to find was in the memory of his attempt to escape by taking control of his body again before it could get to Spender. Alex smiled fondly in the darkness as the memory filled him with slight amusement. He'd stolen a bike from the blonde bitch that lived two doors down. She'd run out of the house in some slinky nightgown purring that she had something better he could ride. He'd told her he'd rather fuck a sponge, shifted gears and pedaled as hard and fast as his legs would allow given the improper seat adjustment. Spender's goons on their shiny mopeds, hot on his tail, had splashed mud on the stunned sex kitten wannabe and she screamed out that they could all just go to hell. Alex had thought it funny at the time, before it had regained control of his brain, radiated the thugs, ditched the bike, stole a car and drove back to the hardware store. At the time Alex had thought that its illogical attempt to ditch the goons and then go to Spender on its own was pretty damn stupid and he had hoped it indicated the thing had a sense of humor and could be reasoned with. But a week of being cooped up here had taught him otherwise. So here he was, stuck in a deep hole with an uncommunicative alien and its spaceship for company. He banged against the door one more time even though he was pretty certain no one could hear him. Maybe Mulder was telepathic he thought with momentary enthusiasm as he closed his eyes and sent a message. Mulder quietly made his way along the eerie hallway with locked labs on either side of him. He'd been checking the doors but had yet to find one that wasn't locked. He should have asked the guys for the deluxe locksmith set. But he didn't ponder that for long because his right hand was turning a knob that actually twisted in a complete circle instead of a half arc that clicked when it met resistance. I'm in, I'm in, a corner of his busy mind rejoiced. He slowly felt along the wall for a lightswitch and was startled when his hand encountered something cool, firm, wrinkled and bony. He froze and trained his ears to listen for breathing. Satisfied that whatever it was it was not alive he stuck his shaking hand in his back pocket and retrieved his mini maglite. This was definitely not a place to announce his presence. So why was the door unlocked, he wondered as he shone the light on what it was he touched. Illuminated in the hazy light Mulder could make out a tiny form that looked like a small child with one of those genetic mangler diseases. He studied it closely and upon deeper inspection he realized that it was only partly human. Or had been. Now he didn't know what it was. He continued to move deeper into the lab and encountered more of these things. Rows and rows to be exact. He didn't count. He wanted to get a look at the big metal containers at the other end of the room, but as he approached them he saw a big man dressed in a protective biohazard suit lifting something out of one of them. From his distance he couldn't see what it was, but the man could clearly see him. Mulder who was too scared to move just stood there and watched. The man quickly packed the object in a case he was carrying, ripped off his mask and walked to stand in front of Mulder. "W-w-who are you?" Mulder squeaked. "Purity control," the man laughed as he brushed past Mulder and paused at the door before waving his hand back and forth over a motion detector. His action unleashed a series of harsh bleeping sirens that echoed ominously throughout the empty building. Mulder uprooted his paralyzed feet and ran as fast as he could. Dana was in the process of searching some of the filing cabinets in the archive room when she heard the alarm. She hastily stuffed some photos and a manila folder underneath her shirt, placing them beneath her waistband to hold them in place. Then she ran back to her dad's office and sat in his chair until Sergeant Pendrell came to get her. "What is it?" Her voice trembled when she spoke. Only this time she wasn't feigning the emotion. It was real. She was scared. For herself. For Mulder. For what they found. For the kind of trouble they could get into. Pendrell shrugged his shoulders. "We don't know. Come on. You better go. I'll walk you out to your car." "Okay, thanks. It's kind of creepy in here when no one's around." "Yeah, I know what you mean. Did you get it?" he wanted to know. "Yeah," she said as she held up a book and prayed what she'd stolen wouldn't fall out of her clothes while they were walking to the car. Skinner and Xavier met up at the door, both infuriated that the tripped alarm had cut short their evidence gathering. They passed through the door dismayed and were outside debating the best way to get back to the car when to their good fortune the purity control man exited the very same door carrying something. Not expecting to encounter two men outside the safe escape route he momentarily lost his edge. It gave the two men enough to overpower him. Xavier was cuffing him when suddenly the man shifted beneath him. He could feel skin and bones and flesh writhing under him forming a different shape. "Oh shit," he cried. "It's one of them. Do you have it?" he demanded of Skinner. "Use your screwdriver," Skinner called out. Xavier didn't think it would work but given the circumstances he knew he had nothing to lose. He tried removing the toolman to pop out the screwdriver but it was snagged on his belt. After several seconds of struggling he managed to open it. Then he turned to Skinner. "You going to help me?" Skinner stopped his pacing long enough to deliver a fierce punch to the man's stomach. It obviously didn't cause the guy any pain but it did subdue him long enough for Xavier to stab the back of his neck with a screwdriver. Green ooze started leaking from the hole and Xavier jumped back. Skinner held out a handekerchief. Xavier stared at him. "What's that for?" "Stuff's toxic." "Of course it is!" Xavier accepted the white handkerchief and wiped away a spray of green ooze that was beginning to disintegrate his dress pants. When he turned to look at Skinner he found his coworker's face stretched in a broad smile. In his hand he was holding definitive proof of the existence of extraterrestrial entities- an alien fetus. "Remind me to buy Fox Mulder a Halloween gift," Xavier told his colleague." Part 7 "You owe me," Dana told him as she tugged on her short elastic shorts hoping to provide more coverage for her thighs. Mulder watched disinterestedly. His rapid eye movement kept checking all the entrances and exits to the gym for his informant. Although occasionally his eyes would linger on the bleach blonde doing cartwheels on the blue line. The rest of his time was spent tapping a thick rectangular block of paper, the kind newspaper was printed on, against his thigh. "Frohike thinks you're cute." "Cute," she huffed as her eyes surveyed the crowd until they landed on Frohike who was eagerly attuned to scantily clad girls spread out across the gym doing various things to contort their bodies into unusual and unnatural positions. He waved. She stomped the floor in frustration. "What is that anyway?" she asked Mulder. "Triple reverse backflip I think." He craned his head to get a different perspective as the blonde executed a perfect split. Scully shoved him hard, causing him to teeter for a minute on the slick bleachers before righting himself, and let out a long exasperated sigh. "That," she said and grabbed the block of paper from him. She flipped through it and studied the strange combinations of purple letters spaced at intervals. "Stenographic notes." "Dana Scully," a booming voice from the floor called out. Dana groaned. "It can't be that bad. Frohike'll have wet dreams about you the whole summer." "You owe me," she repeated as she climbed down the bleachers and made her way to the stocky woman holding a whistle. Oh, Mulder I am going to get you for this, no matter how long it takes. Cheerleading tryouts for chrissakes. You and your damn source are goddamn perverts. Alex had been watching Mulder and Scully waiting for the right moment to move and was about to pounce when Scully took the floor but he hadn't counted on Marita blocking his path. "You've been a very bad boy Alex Krycek," she purred. "Go to hell" he sneered. "I can help you." He laughed. "How can you help me?" "Besides the obvious?" Alex pushed her away. "I don't have time for this, sweetheart. You're not my type." "I used to be," she pouted. "No, darlin' that was what you'd call applied economics." Marita lightly traced the outline of his profile. "I know things." Alex yanked her hand away harshly. "Not interested." "I know where his sister is." Every muscle in Alex's body tightened at the information she was dangling before him. Mulder's sister had been missing since he was 12 and he'd spent the last five years searching for her. He'd convinced himself she'd been abducted by aliens. Not such an illogical conclusion given what his father and his father's pals were doing, but then again Mulder didn't know what his father's day job really involved. "Why should I believe you?" "You want to." Alex could feel a pounding headache coming on. Yeah, sure I do. The way I want to believe in fairytales and happy ever afters. The way I want to believe that Mulder and I could go to the prom, make normal, and be two princes in love. But just because I want it doesn't mean it's going to materialize and become reality. "Alex?" Marita pressed herself closer against him, intoxicated by the invisible scent of his pheromones- danger, vulnerability, and raw sex. Alex squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the onslaught of limited choices and unlimited possibilities those choices could bring. "I'm not a whore," he whispered. Marita's shrill laughter pierced his eardrum and sliced away a piece of his heart. But already his survival instinct was kicking in. If he could survive having his arm sawed off, having an alien host invade his body, and being caged in a dark hole for god knows how long, he still didn't know how he got out of there, then he could survive sex with the school's resident slut. But the issue wasn't about survival. It was about want. And his days of living with the rats were over. "Shalava," he exclaimed as he shoved her away from him. "You saving yourself for true love Alex?" "Da. Propezdoloch. " "That's wishful thinking." "Obossat's'a mozhno?" Alex backed away from the conversation that was going nowhere. There were other ways to find out what happened to Mulder's sister. But Marita wasn't giving up. As he pivoted she grabbed his right arm and slammed him against the wall with a strength that shocked him. Then she leaned in until he could feel her breath against his cheek and kissed him hard. "We can rule the world, Alex," she told him as she slobbered all over him. Angling his right shoulder into the wall he used it as a lever to twist his upper torso so that he could ram into her with his stump and deflect her sleazy advances. The leverage was enough to knock her on her ass. Alex wiped his mouth, spat at her and said. "I don't want to rule the world. And tell them they can kiss my ass." She sprang to her feet and screwed up her face in disgust. "That's gross. Wouldn't you rather I did it?" Alex ignored her and went to find Mulder. Scully had completed her first round of tryouts and he didn't think he had much time left before she and Mulder reconnected. He found Mulder drinking from the water fountain in the hallway perpendicular to the gym. And before he could say anything he found himself on the receiving end of Mulder's fist. Great, he thought, another round of Alex the punching bag. Just what I need. "You fucking bastard. Where the hell have you been?" "Ah, eh, oo, heh, ow, aaah,!" Alex panted, unable to form a coherent sentence. Alex felt something sting his cheek and opened his eyes long enough to see Mulder beating him with the steno tape. "What was that!?" "Ow, uh, oo, aaah!" The stinging burn of the tape made contact with his other cheek. "What were you doing with that bitch? I saw you kissing her!" Alex grunted as Mulder's fist connected with his gut. "I looked everywhere for you." Yeah, everywhere but your own backyard. "Eh, eh, eh," Alex's staggered breathing was establishing a rhythm he kind of liked. It meant he was drawing in enough air to talk. "Who do you think sent you that tape, Mulder?" This time the blow smashed across his mouth, splitting his lip. Blood trickled down his chin. Mulder stared at him with incredulity and sensible revelation. He released his grip on Alex's sweatshirt, pulled away and straightened his clothes. Alex slid to the floor to make himself more comfortable. "For all the fucking good it does. It might as well be Russian." Alex arched his eyebrows. He wasn't really hearing what Mulder was saying. He was stuck back at the part where Mulder was jealously accusing him of kissing Marita. "She kissed me," he explained. "Why?" "She likes me." "Oh, so there's like no...?" "No!" Alex exclaimed. "Of course not. Well once," he amended, "but it was a business transaction." "Why'd you give me this?" he waved the tightly banded notes in the air. "You came to me remember?" "Yeah and then you mysteriously disappeared. How do I know you didn't take that map to your boss?" "You don't. But why would I?" "Why do you do anything?" "Look Mulder," Alex stood up, his anger propelling him to action. "I want this as much as you do." He shoved his face close to Mulder's until their noses were almost touching. "I love your country," he said, throwing Mulder a wink as he said it. Mulder arched his eyebrows. "Uh, you, this, uh, well, you know what I meant." To show Alex that he did indeed know exactly what he meant Mulder placed a hand against Alex's chest and shoved him out of his personal space. This conversation was getting way too intimate. Just then Scully rounded the corner. Krycek swallowed and slid back to the floor as she approached, her blue eyes burning in the dim foggy light. She was holding something but Alex couldn't see what it was. "I want everything you know," Mulder stated. "I know that these men, including your father," Alex paused to share a look of understanding with Scully who handed the photograph she was holding to Mulder. It was a picture of a group of men standing in a warehouse. Both Mulder's father and Alex's boss were identifiable. She didn't know who the other men were. "These men," Alex continued while Mulder was studying the picture, "are not some redneck revolutionaries defending a purer race in the name of dickhead dogmas. They think they're engineering the future because they make it up as they go along. And that's their flaw. They may be smart enough not to use bombs and AK 47s to promote their cause but that's where their intelligence ends. Obviously their mommies never bothered to teach them that the more lies you tell the harder it becomes to remember the truth. They don't even know what they're covering up anymore." "And what's that?" "It's not about aliens taking over the world." "No shit," Scully agreed. Alex gave her a half grin. "It's about aliens wanting something back that we stole from them." Scully wanted to laugh. She wished she could laugh, but Alex's expression was anything but joking. "Enlighten us, Krycek. What do they want if not to colonize and turn the human race into a slave population?" "You read entirely too much science fiction, Mulder. They want their ship back. It's all in the notes." "You mean you, me and two billion other people aren't going the way of the dinosaur?" Mulder inquired seriously. "What about what happened in your lab? Why all the equipment if nothing untoward is happening?" "Because until a week ago I thought the same thing you did." "What changed your mind?" "You spilling that black shit on my foot." "What are you talking about?" Scully wanted to know. Alex had no intention of answering her question. "Langley's mom is a court reporter. See if he can transcribe the notes." "And then what?" "And then we'll match up the information up with what the notes say, find the ship, return it to its rightful owners and go to college," Alex informed him. Part 8 "This isn't going to work," Mulder protested even though he knew the stakeout was a good idea and had a high chance of yielding valuable results. It's just that he didn't want to be given irrefutable proof that his father was involved in criminal activity. He barely liked the man as it was but he was his father and he still felt some obligation as a son to believe in the man who had fed him, clothed him, and kept him in basketball shoes for the last 17 years. "Mulder face facts. You're dad's dirty dealin'. Get over it already," Alex growled. "One photograph and you're ready send him to jail," Mulder scoffed. "You can't deny what you saw Mulder," Scully defended Krycek. She had no trouble whatsoever believing Mr. Mulder was a primary player in the conspiracy they'd uncovered over the past few weeks. "He lied. There was no spacecraft," Mulder's anger was slowly announcing itself. "So what? They moved it," Alex explained logically as he surveyed the notebook he'd brought with him. The notebook that contained all the translations of the map and steno notes. The notebook he'd been eager to share with his unwitting and temporary ally. Yet said ally had refused to acknowledge the knowledge in said notebook. "Besides there is another one. All we have to do is make contact and give it back." "And how do we do that?" Scully demanded. Alex retrieved something from his backpack and held it against the lamplight. Both Mulder and Scully's eyes opened in horror. "You can't be serious," Mulder huffed. Alex shook the vial and grinned. "Oh yeah. I'm serious all right. You live for this shit Mulder. Pass up the chance at body invasion?" he paused to stretch his grin into a leer and watched happily as Mulder straightened his posture and smirked. "I didn't think so," he continued as he passed the vial to Mulder. "Mental impalement isn't exactly what I had in mind, but hey, I'll try anything once." Scully reached between the two and pried the vial out of Mulder's fingers. "Well maybe we'll get lucky and won't have to use it." "Did I just hear you say we're gonna get lucky, Scully?" Frohike prodded suggestively as he entered Mulder's bedroom through the window while Fox and Alex continued to devour each other with their eyes. "You wish," she rolled her eyes and deposited the black oil in her purse where she'd hope it would be safe from inquiring minds. "What's all that?" she asked Frohike he was unpacking a large black duffel bag. "Leftovers from Inspector Gadget's garage sale," Mulder teased as they all watched Frohike pull out wires, cables, little black boxes, and other computer gear and equipment from his bag. "This," he said as he began setting up the equipment, "is the finest of the spy toys you'll find in the greater metro area." Mulder a great believer of hands on experience began rooting around the bag to investigate the odd assortment of devices. "What's this?" he asked as he held up a small pod shape that resembled Mexican jumping beans. Frohike looked up. "Oh that's the high frequency two way listening plug. Go stick it in a bowl of pretzels or popcorn would you?" "Oh yeah that's brilliant, one crunch and all we'll hear is an intestine digesting junk food," Alex commented. Frohike waved him off. "Mulder just go downstairs and put it where no one will find it ok?" He turned to Alex, "Man you have got to get a sense of humor." "Okay," Mulder agreed. "Anything else?" "Power drill?" "What?" "Camera feed. You do want to see what they're doing don't you?" "They're playing poker," Mulder stated the obvious. "You hoping they'll go wild and start stripping Frohike?" Frohike grimaced. "Communication is very three dimensional." "I'll see what I can do. I'm not sure my dad owns any power tools." "What a shame," murmured Scully and the three boys turned to gape at her. But she was lost in her own world and didn't notice their silent pleas for an explanation. "Don't worry about it," Alex told Frohike. "I'll go swipe one from Spender's truck when he gets here." Frohike nodded assent. "What time do they cut the cards?" Mulder checked his watch, "Half hour," he replied distractedly as he caught sight of Alex straddling the window frame as he was climbing out. For a moment all that existed was the picture of Alex gracefully extracting himself from view. Mulder always wondered how he still managed to move like a cat when his equilibrium was suspended in a state of economic kinetics. He stayed inside of that fuzzy space for a few minutes until a repetitive kick to his left shin caught his attention. "Keep it professional, " Scully chastised. "You too," he winked at her while tilting his head in Frohike's direction and was rewarded with another booted toe clanking against his bone. "Just for that I'm not bringing you any snacks," he taunted as he finally left the room and headed downstairs to complete his mission. "Hey," she called out knowing he could still hear her, "I better get pop tarts, doritos, pizza, orange soda, peanuts, and chocolate or no wait, make that chocolate covered peanuts. Yeah, Mulder I better get some chocolate covered peanuts or I'm going home." Mulder slunk into the kitchen feeling like a snake. What was the world reduced to when you couldn't even trust your own father? And that wasn't the only reason he was feeling a bit queazy. He really wasn't relishing the thought of having that black oil inside his system. Even if he was voluntarily going to put it there. Buck up, he ordered himself as he opened a cupboard, withdrew a large colored pottery bowl and proceeded to slide the plug into the bottom before dumping a super sized bag of cheese popcorn on top of it. If Alex can do it so can I. And it is for a good cause, he tried convincing himself. A little excursion gone terribly wrong. Those poor aliens. They just wanted to go home. It wasn't their fault their bad sense of direction landed them smack dab in the middle of a power war between some dumb Department of Treasury workers who misinterpreted the entire situation. Misinterpreted it to fit the angle of their greed and hunger. And the depth of that greed knew no bounds. They'd murdered innocent people, mulitated them in the name of science, in the name of defense. And for what? So they could fly about on a whim and a wing to boost their egos? For an adrenaline rush? To control what they had no business controlling? Whatever it was, Mulder deduced, it wasn't good enough. No excuse could possibly be accepted. And no forgiveness would be meted. His only hope for consolation was that justice would be served. He placed the bowl on the counter where his father would be sure to see it and take it. He then gathered up what he could of Scully's requested menu and substiuted the rest. As soon as he opened the door Scully was on him clawing at the packages he was holding. "What took you so long?" she demanded as she stuffed half a cherry pop tart into her tiny mouth. Mulder ignored her and focused on Frohike who was inserting something through a small hole in the floor while Krycek was attaching the extending cables to the tv. Scully had nested on the bed and was happily making her way through her stash with sighs of contentment while Mulder was trying to clear his head and focus on what came next. He picked up the notebook Alex had brought with him and was reading through it but he couldn't concentrate. That's when he heard it. "Hey!" Scully protested around a mouthful of popcorn as he picked up the remote control and aimed it at the laser light. "I told you not to touch anything." "You touched stuff when you were in my room, " she announced loud enough for the other occupants of the room to hear. Alex snarled. Frohike shook his head in disappointment. Mulder shot both of them dirty looks. "I touched your ferret," he said for Alex's benefit, knowing perfectly well how he'd interpret the statement. Alex arched his eyebrows. Mulder and Scully? No, couldn't be. No chemistry there. Experimentation maybe? Nah, he's not her type, Alex consoled himself. He winked at Mulder. "Bush?" "Mmm, of course," Dana murmured as she tongued some cherry jelly into her mouth. "Billy Idol is old Mulder." Mulder stared at the redhead on his bed who was in such a state of blissful pleasure he was sure she was going to start writhing any minute. He was going to give her a chance to explain but nobody, nobody criticized his taste in music. So he did what he had to do. He pulled the plug. Her eyes opened as the shock penetrated her sugar induced high. "Godamnit, what is wrong with you?" she screached. Electrical cord still dangling in his left hand Mulder picked up the bag of chocolate peanuts with his right hand and shook them, "You have a choice, what's it going to be Scully?" Scully longingly looked to the stereo before turning her glazed eyes on the candy. "Gavin or goo, decide now. We have some sanctioned voyeurism to attend to." "How about a gooey Gavin?" she suggested as she snatched the package of candy from him, tearing into it vigorously and purring contentedly as the chocolate soothed her tastebuds. "What have you got against Gavin Mulder?" Alex who was now within reaching distance of Mulder was thanked for his curiosity with a stinging slap to his ribs with the electrical cord. Frohike was finished and had turned the tv on. "They're here," he said. "How's Teena, Bill?" Spender wanted to know as he layed down another winning hand. "She call you again?" Bill inquired as he gathered the cards and dealt another round. "I was her favorite," Spender reminded him as the British gentlemen organized his chips into neat stacks. "Is she threatening to go to the feds again?" the British man asked. Spender traded two cards. "She's always threatening. But then I remind her what happened the last time she seriously considered sharing information with those who had no business having it." "Ah yes, the circus." "How is Samantha anyway?" Mr. Firstelder mumbled. Bill Mulder folded his hand and glanced out the window. "She's still with Zeke, the lion tamer. Seems she has something of a talent for the trapeze." "How appropriate for the daughter of a whore," Spender commented. "Wouldn't expect anything less from the offspring of a professional prostitute and her pimp." Spender took a drag on his cigarette and calmly replied, So Bill what shall we expect of your son then? Is Fox going to grow up to be the producer of snuff films then? After all he does have the same genetic makeup" "You leave Fox out of this." "After all this time and you're still not convinced." "He is my son." "That's not what Teena says." "Mr. Mulder, Mr. Spender," the British gentlemen interrupted, "This argument is old hat, fellows. Why don't you just do the DNA tests and find out for sure?" "Where's the fun in that?" Spender pondered aloud as Bill pounded a fist on the poker table. Mr. Firstelder threw his cards down. "We have business. Let's just play cards, do business, and leave the personal issues aside." "Yes," the British gentleman agreed. "Extortion, money laundering, porn rings, murder, mayhem, those things need proper preparation and planning, not to mention the science projects, the cover ups, the organization of our thugs. So let's get to it shall we fellows?" The four teenagers sat in stunned silence as the elaborate conspiracy was revealed to be nothing more creative than organized crime courtesy of a well placed camera and hidden listening device. These men that Mulder thought heralded the coming of a new era, men who had the authority and the technology to engineer that new era simply had no vision, no inspiration, no idea of what was right before their very eyes. It's not that they didn't believe in aliens or that they didn't believe aliens were trying to take over the world. They did. They had evidence- two spaceships, unidentified alien substances, an alien fetus, an an armload of genetic information, a network of scientists who'd spent years analyzing the evidence to prepare for an invasion, to create a solution that would save the souls of the human race from a fate far worse than any hell the good poets had envisioned. And yet they had nothing. Nothing but shit for brains that is. Because there were no hostile aliens. Alex had told him that the other day but he hadn't believed him. Hadn't wanted to believe him. Not after all the time he'd invested in his personal crusade to find the answers to unlocking the universe. Not after he'd spent years convinced that his sister had been abducted by a biological entity foreign to the earth, a biological entity that performed horrible and gruesome acts against the human race. But now the proof was in front of him. All those years defining himself by his purpose, by his mission, his quest to bring the truth of alien existence to the forefront of human consciousness. All those years were nothing but a miserable failure. He had the truth. In less than hour of spying on his father and his friends he had a truth he'd fruitlessly given up his adolesence for. "He sold my sister to a circus to prevent my mom, the hooker from selling out. To prevent her turning state's evidence to the feds. My kid sister's living with some lion tamer who probably doesn't even have his real teeth not to mention the fact that his body is probably a living mass of scar tissue. And bald, I bet he's bald. She's just a kid for chrissakes!" "Mulder don't do..." Alex never got a chance to finish because Mulder had only paused in his ranting. "And that's just the beginning. He may not even be my father. That sick fuck you work for," he repeatedly poked Alex in the chest to illustrate his point, "could be. Not that either one is a prime candidate for father of the year, but hey I'd like to think my mom, oh wait, the whore, could choose a better man to breed with." Mulder's momentum was winding down and he slumped on the floor next to Alex seeking the comfort of a warm body. "Now what?" he whispered. "We get them their ship back." "That's too dangerous," Scully informed them. "We have to do it," Alex replied. "I don't like it." "Neither do I," he admitted, "but it's the only way." "Well we know for sure it's under the football field. Why can't we just take the vial and dump it somewhere nearby?" Scully asked. "It doesn't work that way," Alex told her. "How do you know?" "Scully he just knows," Mulder answered for him. "And it's my decision. I'm doing it." "When?" "No time like the present." "Mulder it's prom night," she said. "Couldn't get a date?" Mulder joked. She kicked him in the head. "Turned me down," Frohike exclaimed. "Well Scully looks like you're going after all," Mulder straightened his shoulders and stood up, offering a hand to pull Alex up. "What? I couldn't possibly," she protested. "Yes you can," Alex encouraged. "Go home and get changed. Frohike you go with her and take the video to Skinner. I think he's chaperoning. He'll know what to do. We'll meet up with you guys later." Frohike wasn't happy taking orders from ratboy but he wasn't going to turn down the chance to take the lovely Dana S. to the prom so he rewound the video, popped it out, put it in his duffle bag, and escorted a complaining Scully out of the room, down the stairs, out the side door and into his car. "So Krycek you have a date for the prom?" Alex smiled deeply. "You asking?" Mulder returned the smile. "Don't expect a corsage. And I'm not dressing up either." "Don't worry Mulder. I'll still dance with you." Part 9 "How do you feel?" asked Alex as he pulled a woozy Mulder to his feet. "I don't know. I don't know if I have the vocabulary. I don't if words exist to describe it." "Yeah, pretty fucked huh? Mulder allowed Alex to wrap an arm around his waist and guide him away from the remains of what used to be the football field. For a few minutes they just stood there watching the night sky pondering everything from string theory to Zoroastrianism, to hallucinogenic drugs to who was going to win the Stanley Cup. And what that pondering yielded was a mutual agreement that life was accidental or at least as accidental as the fates wanted it to be. And while it wasn't necessarily the answer either of them wanted it would suffice. It was enough to know that what kept them enemies was the same force that would make them friends. Mulder shifted slightly so that he was face to face with Alex and just as they were about to explore the perks of their new pact they were interrupted by a peach clad Scully hot on the heels of a a very pissed off Skinner. "Where is it?" he bellowed. "Suck face later," she ordered. Alex laughed and eased himself away from Mulder, instantly regretting it as the lack of body contact put him into a mild state of depression. Sensing Alex's mood Mulder reached out an arm and pulled him back. "On its way home sir," Mulder answered. "Oh well that's just great. Perfect," Skinner yelled. "I'm going to lose my job for this." "First you make me steal my dad's pass and then you make me sneak you into the base. And that's just all fine and dandy but then, then you make me try out for cheerleader. Cheerleader. But I do it on the off chance that my dad'll notice something's odd and decide it would be better for me to do homeschool. But this, this just takes the godamn fucking cake. I am forced to go to the prom. The prom, prom as in a bunch of immature pisspot shitheads dressing up in fancy clothes and pretending to be grownups. And for what? So they can fucking lose their virginity okay? You got that? Are you listening to me?" she demanded of Mulder who was listening to the amusing tirade and desperately trying not to laugh at the creamsickle coming to life before him. "What's your point Ms. Scully?" Dana forcefully grabbed Skinner's shirt, accidentally ripping it in the process, and pushed him. "And just what job would that be?" she spat. Skinner pried her fingers from his shirt and reached into his left jacket pocket to extract his official ID. He flashed it at them all, "Walter Skinner, Special Agent, Bureau of Paranormal Activity." "You made me come here when we could have just called the FBI to arrest your dad?" Mulder shrugged. He could care less about what agency did what and what the official lines of jurisdiction were. All he knew was that the man who had claimed to be his principal believed in the principles of weirdness. And that was okay in his book. And that gave him reason to trust the man. "What about all that stuff I gave you?" Alex wanted to know. Skinner let out a deep breath. "You mean the stuff you stole from me?" "Well if you want to argue semantics." "It disappeared from our evidence storage." "So they win?" "No Mulder they don't. This tape has enough to convict your dad and his croonies and sentence them to four life terms in the federal penitentiary. I don't think it was them." "The aliens?" Scully whispered. Skinner nodded yes. "It would appear so." "Well can't you investigate witches, werewolves and vampires?" Scully suggested. "No I can't. I'm not trained for that. And without definitive proof of the existence of aliens my job's finished. It was my specialty. Everything I've worked on to date will be shoved into some obscure file, my division will be shut down and they'll create a new one, something more contemporary, something reflective of the latest fads and fashions of popular culture." While Skinner was talking Alex moved away from the group and started a small fire. When his companions realized what was going on they moved over to join him. "Then I guess you won't be needing these?" he asked as he momentarily held the map and the notebook in the dim light before dropping them into the crackling flames. But there was no desolation or destruction in the act and they all watched with relief as the last physical connection they had to their personal crusade burned and turned to ash. There was only hope as they witnessed an ancient symbol denoting the reconstruction of what they'd lost and sacrificed for the cause. Epilogue Two weeks later Alex sat on the hard wooden bench wondering what he was doing here. It was the last day of school and he knew for a fact that he'd committed no transgressions against school policy for at least a week. Well except for that incident with Fox behind the concession booth at the track. But he was positive no one knew about that. He closed his eyes and continued to mull over the situation, a smile turning the corner of his mouth. He knew Kim was staring, ogling actually, maybe even drooling. And he was determined to give her a good show for a change. He spread his legs and leaned his head back to expose his neck. "What would your boyfriend think?" asked the redhead who had just joined him on the bench. Alex partially opened his right eye and looked out through fringed lashes to watch his new bench companion. "At least he's not old enough to be my dad." Dana pinched his right arm hard. "Age is relative," she stated. "Hey," called the boy leaning against the door. He popped a sunflower in his mouth and said, "Don't damage the goods." "Any more than they already are?" she joked. Mulder came over to the bench and wedged himself between Alex and Scully. He took a moment to run a hand up the long lean thigh smashed against him. "Mulder!" Alex hissed. "Just checking the merchandise." As they were gazing longingly into each other's eyes and trying to maintain a standard of public decency the principal's office opened and a large muscular balding man stepped out. He made a show of looking at the folders in his hand before calling out, "Krycek, Mulder, and Scully." The three looked at each other in surprise and made no effort to move. "Do I need to repeat myself?" he looked up from the folder and for the briefest second allowed a grin to pass across his rigid features. "No," Dana jumped up cheerfully and was the first to enter the office. Alex and Fox waited five minutes to join her. Skinner nodded his approval when Alex and Fox came into the office holding hands. "So I guess you won't be needing those classes I recommended?" Skinner asked Alex. "No. Never did." "Mulder, I hear your sister is back." "Yes, sir, she is." "And how is she readjusting?" "She's doing well. My mom's going to buy her a trampoline." "Good. Glad to hear it. Ms. Scully you've decided not to take the GED?" "I reconsidered. Seems there's plenty happening around here to keep me interested." "And how is Mr. Frohike?" Dana had the good grace to blush, Mulder guffawed, and Alex shook his head in disbelief. "He's recovering nicely." "Recovering nicely?" Mulder asked. "He was almost castrated." "Alex seems to do fine with just one arm," Dana pointed out. "Arm and pe..." Skinner held out his palm to stop Mulder. "There's a big difference Scully," Alex offered a defense for the universal boy's club. "He stuck his hand down my bra!" Scully raged. "He was only trying to get the screw from his glasses. If you hadn't pulled so hard when you were kissing him they wouldn't have broken. And besides aren't you being hypocritical? You said that proms were for..." "I know what I said." "Gypsies do it all the time," Alex explained. "What's the big deal?" "What's the big deal?" Dana screeched. "Do I look like a Gypsy to you?" Skinner groaned. Less than four hours on the job that was now a real job and not just a cover and his head was pounding already. "Enough already!" he commanded and the room fell silent. "Fox and Alex cut it with the footsie. Dana calm down, I'll buy you an ice cream later. Now unless the three of you feel like regutting my roof this weekend I suggest you listen up. Now here's what's going down..." The End

Title: The Truth, The Whole Truth, And Nothing But The Truth Author/Pseudonym: Windra Garrison email: windra63@hotmail.com Rating: R Pairing: M/K Category: AU, Humor Disclaimer: Don't own them but I sure appreciate them more than the guys who do. Entertainment value only, no money has exchanged hands. Summary: Mulder, Scully, Krycek and the rest of the gang have a mystery to solve. Notes: This is my first M/K piece. I'm sure I stole some lines from Due South too. Hasn't been edited by anyone but me so all spelling and grammer errors are mine as are bad transitions and lack of cohesiveness. Thanks to Joy for listening to me whine and moan for months about this and to everyone on the list who took the time to answer all my questions. back to top

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