Alice in Wonderland

Fandom: The X-Files

Category/Rated: Slash, NC-17. If you are offended by explicit male to male sex, don't go here, it will not make you happy.

Year/Length: ~3560 words

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek

Spoilers: for Sleepless, Duane Barry

Disclaimer: OK, I stole the boys, Chris Carter is their official owner, but they like me, they honestly do;

Beta: Thank you to Fleur and Frankie for their beta on part 1. Thanks to Frankie for the idea. Beta by Orithain on part 2, my lady of the commas, to whom there should be a shrine. Thanks Ori! Rowanne for beta above and beyond the call of duty on part 3 and To my beta readers for part 4, Bonita and phyre, who are the best help any writer could ever have. I can't possibly ever express all my gratitude.

1: White Rabbit

"He had a gun!" The words slide and skitter crazily over my thoughts. He did, he had a gun. He was going to shoot Mulder

I saw him.

I killed him!

Killed as in dead, bye-bye, all gone, goodnight, eyes staring wide and sightless, cold, stiff, dead.

I killed him. Oh my God, it was so easy, I didn't really think about it. All I did was aim and fire. Now he's dead and he will be dead forever. Fuck, I did that all on my own. I feel sick.

"Mulder, he had a gun." The words are blurted out. There is a pause then in which I look mutely at him hoping for absolution, and he knows, the bastard, he knows I need to hear him tell me it's OK. Why doesn't he tell me it's OK?

It isn't OK is it? Because of me, this man is dead. He's lying there on the ground and he's just so much meat.

Stepping shakily around Mulder, I stumble to the wall and retch, bringing back my breakfast. My stomach is still rebelling with painful dry heaves when Mulder comes and lays his hand on my shoulder.

"Come on Krycek, you need to get out of here." There is pressure on my shoulder, but it feels friendly, and I go with the pressure, moving with Mulder towards the stairs and down into the daylight. I shake and my teeth chatter. Is this how it's going to be? I think I want to go and be an engine driver, not a junior G-man. I can't do this.

Mulder brings me to the car and I sink into the passenger seat without any argument. So what if his loony driving almost killed me? I deserve it. I feel tears springing hot into the back of my nose, a feeling as if I just inhaled pepper. My sinuses are clogged and my head begins to ache. Please don't make me cry in front of this man. Give me just a little dignity

Mulder engages the gears, and we head out of there at warp speed. He's concentrating on the road and I'm grateful. I'm still shaking and don't trust my voice to reply if he asks me some deep psychological question about how I'm feeling. I zone out, and the reaction makes me dizzy. Murderer! Killer! Me!

The car draws to a halt, and Mulder is shaking my shoulder again. I blink at him owlishly and he gets out of the car, waiting for me. I follow. I don't really know where we're going and I don't care. I just want to sit until I feel better. There are stairs, and then a corridor. Mulder uses a key and opens a door, ushering me inside and pointing to the couch. I sit. He goes to the cabinet in the corner and gets out glasses and a bottle of some sort. He pours and I hear the glug-glug sound that tells me this is a fresh bottle. Then he hands me the glass and I take it.

"Drink it Krycek, you'll feel better." His matter of fact voice pierces my misery, and for want of something better to do, I raise the glass to my lips. It's vodka, neat, warm, oily and disgusting. I drink it and he takes the glass.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He's being kind. Looking at him sitting there in his silk suit, eyes earnestly and kindly fixed on mine, I feel a rush of affection for him. He's got better things to do with his time, but he's sitting here in his apartment trying to make a dumb freshman feel better about something he must regard as one of the routine parts of the job.

"God Mulder! I killed him and now he's dead and gone. I never thought about it before, but he's really gone and I did it. "Mulder is regarding me through sleepy hazel eyes, and I notice what long eyelashes he has.

"Krycek, is this the first time you killed someone?" I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He kneels and moves forward towards where I'm sitting, and suddenly, he has his arms around me, and my head is buried in his shoulder. His suit is silk, and it feels cool and wonderful on my hot cheek. I think to myself that I mustn't cry, it will spoil the jacket. It doesn't seem strange to be sitting here accepting comfort from a man. His cologne is spicy, and there's an odour of male underlying it. Not sweat or anything, just he's a man, and I can tell. It's sexy, very sexy.

"You did right. You believed that my life was in danger and you protected me. Thank you for that Alex."

My head comes up in a jerk. He is still kneeling but he removes his arms from around my shoulders. I'm looking at him, wondering if he's got any underlying agenda for this. I'm remembering that my employer has instructed me to seduce this man, and a twitch goes through my belly. I've never.....not with a guy. I don't hate gays or anything, but I just don't...I like girls.

I look back to Mulder, and unbidden, the image of him climbing out of the swimming pool floats up in front of me. The long flat slabs of muscle in his back and shoulders, the narrow waist and tight buns, the powerful legs and sleek, muscular arms are right there in my memory, and I wonder what the hell my subconscious is trying to tell me. I think about Andrea, my girl. Her image is refusing to come, and Mulder emerging from the pool is right back in centre stage. I shiver again, and Mulder obviously misinterprets this. He moves then to sit on the couch beside me, talking in that dogged, flat voice of his while he does so.

"You know, it's good that you're taking it like this. Killing isn't something you should be able to do without qualms. If you feel as badly about everyone you kill, you'll be a good agent." His hand comes up to ruffle my hair, and I lean into the contact somehow. I want the comfort, I think that's what it is. I'm not gay and I don't have a thing for men.

So why is it that I want Mulder to put his arms back around me? I hang my head because I can feel my face turn hot and I know I'm blushing. He's way off in his summing up of the situation because he sighs and folds me up in his arms again, rocking me slightly. My head is swimming from the triple vodka on an empty (oh yeah!) stomach. I turn my head into his neck, and nestle in as close as I can get. I haven't felt so safe for a long time. He strokes my back and I have a real desire to stay here for the rest of the day. My hand comes up to try and touch his face, and I have to exert a conscious effort to keep it still. I compromise in the end by tucking it in next to my face, just next to his neck. We stay like that for a moment.

"I'm sorry Mulder." I mumble, my tongue feeling large and clumsy in my mouth. "I think I'm a little bit drunk." He turns his face to look at me, leaning there on his shoulder and he is smiling. His face lights up when he smiles. I've never seen him do it before, but it was worth waiting for let me tell you. I smile in return. I must look a little dopey because his smile widens, and he starts to stroke my ear very delicately with the tip of his finger. All of a sudden my chest is feeling incredibly tight and I have to gulp in order to get enough oxygen into my lungs. I'm giving him the benefit of my unfocused stare when suddenly he leans his head forward and his lips are on mine, soft and moist, moving over my mouth. His skin is clean-shaven with just the hint of stubble to come, and his tongue is pushing through into my mouth, darting into all the corners, sliding over mine. I'm confused. Is this right? Do I want this? I concentrate on the feelings and try to decide if it's good or if it's bad. Meanwhile my hands, my traitor hands get away from my control and go up to hold his face between them.

I'm drowning in this kiss. It goes on forever, and he methodically explores my mouth with his. His lips don't press hard. He's not aggressive about it. He just does the job so thoroughly, my toes start to curl up. Worse, I'm getting this feeling in my mid-section that I really don't want to think about right now.

After what seems like an eternity, he pulls away from me and sits, staring at me as if he's trying to read my thoughts. They are probably written all over my face anyway and I shake my head in confusion.

"Krycek...Alex?" He's expecting something. Maybe he thinks I'm going to hit him, or throw up, or something, I don't know, but I'm not. I want him to kiss me again. I'm still trying to tell whether or not I like it.

"Mulder, I....I don't know...I haven't ever done this..." My voice runs down like a clockwork toy, jerky and slow. He has his arms around me still but he brings his hands back to my shoulders to push off my suit jacket. I can feel the heat of him through the soft cotton of my shirt, and there isn't enough air in this room.

There's certain inevitability about the way he pulls my face to his and fixes his mouth over mine. I can't stop him, don't want to try. Once again his tongue invades my mouth and I find myself responding, my own tongue running over his teeth. One of his hands is slipping up and down my spine, coming to rest on the back of my neck at the end of each stroke, while the other moves up between us to caress first my neck, then moves down to stroke my nipples through the shirt. I slide an arm around him and for some reason he takes it as an invitation. He presses backwards until I am lying on my back and he is covering my body with his. He doesn't break the kiss for even a second, and I'm gradually coming to the conclusion that I do like it. I like it a lot. My spare hand threads itself into his hair, and I find I'm massaging the back of his neck.

This strikes me as irresistibly funny, and I start to splutter with laughter which (though therapeutic I'm sure) has the net result of breaking off that long, long kiss. Mulder lifts his head and smiles again. My belly flips and I can feel a distinct presence inside my pants. I'm wondering what's going to happen next and thinking that I'm getting an education that I didn't put my name down for. Am I still here because I want to be, or because I'm too scared to run away. Maybe it's just because of the vodka. I hope it's just because of the vodka.

I look lazily up at Mulder, who is running his hands all over me. I'm feeling good now, I mean really good, but I don't know if I want to go any further than this. I know partners are supposed to have a bond between them, but this is probably over and above the call of duty.

"Mulder, what are you doing here? I'm straight you know. I don't..." His mouth halts my words, and also all conscious thoughts. The kisses are getting harder and deeper now, and his hands are circling my erogenous zones like sharks, darting in to nip or tweak from time to time. I am beginning to sweat. This feels good, very good. It feels so good in fact that I find I am gasping like a landed fish as waves of lust break over me. I moan into his mouth and once more he disengages, pulling himself up to stand, and grabbing my hand.

"Come on!" He leads me into his bedroom. It's small and the bed takes up most of the space. He turns to face me and begins to unbutton my shirt, loosening my tie and dropping it carelessly behind me before shucking the shirt off my shoulders and allowing it to flutter down to lie where it will. I'm strangely shy, feeling very vulnerable standing here without my shirt, and evidence of my excitement tenting out the loose suit pants I have on. Mulder tosses his clothing onto the chair in the corner of the room in a matter of fact way. He's not doing a strip for me, he's just getting naked in the most efficient way possible. I look at the body in front of me, and I know that I'm curious. Try everything once, I tell myself, and if you like it, do it again. I'm still standing like a fool, holding my hands in front of my hard-on and wondering if he wants me to make the next move because I don't think I can.

He steps in and his hands run over my chest, down to my belly, and the pants are suddenly undone, slipping down my legs and tripping me. I sit down with a bump onto the bed, and lift my feet to shake the encumbrance clear. Socks and shoes go too, and I'm left in my boxers. Mulder is sniggering at them and I realise that they are the ones with Mr. Happy from the Mr. Men all over them.

"Mr. Happy? Oh, Krycek!" He cracks out laughing again, and I smile uncertainly, feeling like a total dork. I don't feel that way for very long though because he sits down beside me again and starts necking with me. He's kissing me, stroking and pulling, nipping and licking, touching me everywhere he can reach. I throw my head back and let him. I think to myself, this is how girls must feel when I'm all over them and won't take no for an answer. Of course I haven't said no. At this stage I don't think I could possibly say anything except maybe "Please!" but I do start to run my hands over those muscles I remember from the pool.

He groans and rolls to press his penis up against me. This makes me jump a little I admit. I look down at it, and it looks back at me, it's one eye weeping a little. I'm wondering where he's going to put the thing! What he thinks I can do with it. I consider the alternatives and clench my butt cheeks together firmly. I can't possibly do that! It would be disgusting! It would tear me in two! It's huge. Ouch!

Mulder meanwhile is feeling down the front of my boxers, and Mr. Happy wants to play. This also strikes me as irresistibly funny, and I start to laugh all over again, which is probably a defense mechanism. Mulder rears back to look at me, and his expression is very tender, unlike any I've seen on his face before now. I stop my giggling, and try to communicate with him.

"Mulder, I don't know what you're expecting from me, but I don't know how to do this. I don't want to that's going to kill me, look at it!" Mulder smiles down at me and starts to place kisses with wet centres all over my face. My eyelids, my hairline, my cheeks and my neck, nibble at my nose and then the corners of my mouth get the treatment. I'm lying here like...like a girl while he kisses and strokes me. He lifts his head up again to look at me, and his hand finally drops down to my cock. Hands push down on my boxers to let it out, and he grasps it, squeezes it and I can't help myself, I push into his hand. He kisses my mouth again. His tongue knows it's way now, and mine is beginning to like the company. Mulder is slowly working my dick up and down, while pressing himself against my thigh. I am just about choking, I feel so strange, so excited, so out of control. I've never been out of control like this. The kiss is finally over, and he doesn't say anything, but starts to work his way south. He licks, sucks, flicks his tongue over me. I just lie and gurgle, and hope my arteries can take it. I;m lost in a whirl of sensation. Everything is moist and wet, his mouth is hot and his tongue is dipping into my navel. That's another first. Ewww.... He goes lower, and Oh, God, he's not going, yes he is. He is and he has.

Tentatively at first he licks around the end of my cock. It feels as if he's setting me on fire, but feels so good. He closes his lips on me, and his whole mouth slides down the shaft of it, making me jerk my hips like a crazy thing. His hands find their way to my balls, and he strokes them, teases them, feels below them and then his damp fingers are working their way into the crack of my ass. Oh, no! I panic and wriggle. Mulder lifts his head up to look at me again and gives me another encouraging smile.

"It's OK Alex, I'm only going to make you feel good. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Just relax and trust me, in a minute you'll be glad you did." I am moaning almost continuously and what I really need is for him to put those gorgeous lips of his back around my prick and for him to suck me, but he doesn't. He pulls away, leaving my cock twitching with a life of it's own, while he roots around in the drawer beside his bed. A grunt of satisfaction indicates that he's got whatever he was looking for, and he proceeds to squirt stuff from a tube, which he then starts to apply to my butt. I'm feeling better and better, as the pressure he exerts gets something down there thinking about playing the game. All of a sudden, he has his finger inside me, and his mouth goes back down around my penis. He sucks me in, so far in I wait to see if he gets a bulge in the back of his neck. That finger is working it's way in, out, in again, and on its way it brushes against something that I didn't know I had, but I will certainly be revisiting in the future. I yell his name and my whole body pulses, tingles and spurts out of the end of my cock, waves of hot joy carrying me along with it. I don't know what it was that I yelled, but he finally releases me and smiles, before squirming up to lie on top of me and give me one of those deep kisses. The taste on his tongue is from me. This seems somehow more exciting than anything else so far. I am aware that he is still as hard as granite, and he's probably expecting me to do stuff to him.

"Alex, You're so beautiful Alex." I'm still dizzy, only now it's desire. He's pushing up against me, and I grab hold of his cock making him moan. Looking around for inspiration, I must have been acting like a dork again because he chuckles and pulls me back to lie beside him.

"Listen Baby, I know this is new and scary, so let me do the work and show you how, OK? Think of it as sex 101 tonight. Maybe tomorrow there will be a test, but you have to complete the coursework first. His busy fingers are working on that cock of mine while he is talking, and despite the fact that I just blew all my seals, Mr. Happy is getting up again! Mulder is slicking on more grease, and the feel of his hand stroking me rhythmically is very nice. I can tell he's done this before. I collect some of the grease and start to reciprocate. I can do this, it's like jerking myself off, only in stereo. Then, Mulder scares me again. He turns his back into me, and with a wriggle and a twitch, my dick is inside him, and he's pressing backwards into me, forcing it higher. I'm feeling really good again, he is hot and tight and everything seems to be throbbing as he slides up and down on me. My hand goes back to his penis and I resume pumping it, which just about makes him scream. I hear my name from his lips and then I feel him come. It starts with tightness around my dick, and progresses to a pulsing movement up and down it that has me coming out in sympathy. His penis throbs too, and the sperm shoots, white and messy, all over my hand, his belly, the sheets, everywhere. He turns his head over his shoulder and gently bites my lower lip, before kissing me one last time.

"Alex..." He whispers my name. I'm starting to shake. I just came up a senior agent's ass. I'm lying here naked in his arms and I wonder if the world will ever go back to normal. Strange how much can change in the course of one afternoon. I'm on a journey now, and like Alice in Wonderland, I don't know if I'll ever be able to get home.

2: March Hare loves Mad Hatter

I still don't believe it, can't believe it. I'm having cold sweats just thinking about it.

Yesterday I killed someone, and it made me sick, but that's not it. I knew that was bound to happen one day. I am in the FBI after all.

Yesterday I let a man have sex with me, make love to me, whatever you want to call it, and I didn't run screaming from the touch of his hands, or his lips, or his cock. This isn't featured in the FBI manual. They didn't give me any training that would cover it while I was at Quantico.

What was I thinking? Whatever did he put in that drink?

I know he didn't put anything in the drink. I can't even blame that. I have no excuses, and I don't want to think about it for too long, and whatever possessed me to let him do that to me?

Whatever possessed me to do it to him?

I know the feel of his lips sliding over my skin. It felt good. It felt... right, somehow right. That's no excuse. I shouldn't have done it. God damn him! God damn me!

I want to do it again.

Now, I'm sitting waiting for him to come into the office and I'm going to have to be polite, pretend that everything is still exactly the same and make like it didn't happen. I'm going to have to grit my teeth and deliver reports and discuss cases with him when all I want to do is curl up into a little ball and rock in a corner.

Maybe AD Skinner won't mind if I crouch under his desk.

The door swings open and in he comes, head up, slight smile, coffee cartons clasped in hand.

"I brought you a coffee. How are you feeling?" I avoid his gaze, and he puts the coffee down on my side of the desk. I don't know what to say to him. I can feel a red tide sweeping up my neck and across my cheeks. What the fuck is this? I drop my head into my hands and moan softly.

He's beside me in a wink. His hand on my shoulder burns me, and I cower God damn it. I cower. I'm not ready for him to play the sensitive listener. What I really want to do is grab him by the hair and beat his head on the desk until he's unconscious. I want to smash his face until he can no longer look at me with his sarcastic, sexy, fuckable half-smile.

I want to shove my cock into him again and shove it deep, push it hard into him until he screams for mercy, tells me he's sorry and he'll forget it if I will. I want to wipe out what's happened to me with a quick spurt of jism, and no regrets.

I'm hard dammit! I'm hard and I know he knows. I'm pinned here to my seat, and there's no way I can get away, no way I can escape his cataloging eye.

Deep breaths, Alex! Breathe deep and think about something else. Think about exercise. I'll go to the gym after work and pump weights until I can't feel anything any more, 'til my limbs are all light and shaking, and I have no energy left for remorse. I'll...I'll run there to warm up. He runs, I've seen him, sweat in his hair, strong arms pumping and his long legs flying in an easy stride that makes him seem to float.

Big mistake! Whoa! Don't think about him. Just don't, OK?

My fool erection is subsiding a little at any rate. I risk looking at him, and his face seems non-committal. He is keeping it carefully expressionless and polite, and that makes me nervous.

"Regrets, Krycek?" His voice is calm, dispassionate, and I study him now, trying to see traces of the Fox that lay in my arms yesterday. I can't. This is purely Mulder, and I don't know how to talk to him.

"Mulder, you...you.." He smiles wolfishly.

"I seduced you? Is that what you're trying to say?" I nod, inadequately, my face burning with shame again. His hand creeps from my shoulder to the back of my neck, stroking softly amongst the fine hairs there, and making that fucking erection of mine leap up again. "I know I seduced you. You don't have to tell me. It isn't something I'd forget."

"Fuck you, you sarcastic son of a bitch!" I'm really ticked. How dare he turn my life on its ears and then make schoolboy jokes about it.

"You already did, and it was terrific. Am I sensing that you can't handle it? Is your ego really so fragile, Alex?" He plants his barbs carefully, knowing how to ensure that they tear me apart. I swallow, but there's still something solid in my throat. I don't know how to handle this. He's too slippery, too clever for me.

"I don't know why you did it. I'm confused." His fingers are still moving just above my collar, and I'm fighting the urge to shove my elbow into his groin to break free of him. I want jerk my head away. I want to snuggle back against his hand with a sigh. I do nothing.

"Krycek, I did nothing to force you. I want you, sure, but I'm no raper of innocent boys. You came to me of your own free will, and I thank you for it, it was wonderful. You are a beautiful, beautiful man, and I could go on forever about what it meant to me to have you trust me, love me, but I'm not going to force myself on you." His hand ceases its play in my hair. He leans down and places a hard, bruising kiss on my lips, swiping with his tongue and making that fool cock of mine twitch in response. "I'm not going to do anything except wait, Krycek. If you want me, I'll be here, but you're going to have to ask me. You are going to have to come to me and tell me that you want me. You aren't going to get away with blaming me. If you want anything more from me, you will need to come to terms with wanting me. I know how I feel about you, but only you can come to terms with your feelings for me."

I sit frozen, feeling him withdraw from me and move to his chair. Why do I feel as if someone ripped my warm blanket away from me and turned me out into the cold? I should be grateful, but I'm not. Dumbly I look at him and nod. Blandly, he smiles and reaches for a file and a pen.

My cock slowly, slowly returns to its sleeping state, and I reach disconsolately for my coffee.

We've been working out. She's strong for a girl. Her complexion is very fair, and her muscles are sleek under the covering of pale skin. A small dusting of freckles makes her look vulnerable. She's tall, her head tucks neatly under my chin when we dance. Her hair is sweat darkened right now, thick tangles of brown curls sticking to her cheeks and her neck. She grins at me as she raises her water bottle. I'm studying her curves, she's a pretty girl, but that's not why I like her, well not the only reason anyway. She's got full breasts, long legs, rounded arms, I could go on, listing the prettiness of her, but that would omit the wicked sense of humor that keeps me hanging onto her utterances. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I love her for her mind.

I *do* love her.

Honestly!

"See you in the hot tub?" Her voice is deep, breathy. I love the way it sounds.

"Sure, Babe. I'll be right out." Turning, I grab my towel and head for the changing rooms.

Once out in the hot tub, I sink gratefully into the heated bubbling water and wait. The hard jets of water scourge my back and arms, and I groan with the sensuality of it. This is my favorite part of a workout! I love the feeling of the hot water pummeling tired muscles until they float from the bone.

Andy comes walking carefully over the wet pool surround to slide in at my side and sighs as she sinks up to her shoulders in the warmth. Her one-piece swimsuit is plain. She doesn't need any embellishments. Her lithe figure is ornament enough. I feel her hand run along my thigh under the bubbles and raise a quizzical eyebrow at her.

"Didn't do enough curls, Hon! By rights you shouldn't have the strength left to do that!" I feel her fingers gently kneading the inside of my thigh. At my words, they stray up to the bulge in my shorts, and she squeezes gently!

"Actually, I was kinda hoping that you wouldn't have the strength to fight me off." She leers at me in a ladylike way, and I lay my head against hers for a brief minute.

"Hmm...Just wait until I get you home young woman. We'll see who needs to fight who off!" Her fingers have worked their way inside the leg of my shorts, and she's tugging on my penis, curling her fingers around it and tweaking it gently. If it notices, it doesn't let on. The thing stays curled like a prawn, disregarding her completely. I'm a little taken aback, but I did work out quite hard, and it's been a long day.

"If you're expecting me to get happy right now, Babe, I think you're going to be disappointed. I'm really tired. I don't think I've got a thrust in me just at the moment." Her hand flits away again, and she grabs my head, kissing me soundly, and then ducking under the water still hanging onto me, so that I emerge blowing and gasping like a fool, water streaming from my eyes and nose. By the time I clear my vision of course, she has moved out of my reach, so I settle for making faces at her.

Later, as we lounge in front of the idiot box, I reach for her and haul her onto my lap. She snuggles into my arms, turning up her face to kiss me, eyes closed and face serious. I lower my head and claim her mouth, holding her to me as I kiss her, my hands moving under her skirt to slide inside her panties. She is wet already, and my fingers move inside to caress her while my thumb seeks out that magic button just above. She moans into my mouth and hangs on around my neck, gasping.

Slowly, we work our way down until she's lying half under me, and I'm still playing with her, rubbing and stroking her while she whispers my name. I pull up her shirt, exposing her pink tipped breasts and sucking on each in turn as I continue to work moist magic with my fingers. She gasps and looks at me out of half drowned eyes.

"God Alex, I love you to do that." I move down, dragging off her panties before nuzzling into the wetness of her center. Hands knot in my hair as I lick daintily at her, and then bury my face in her, sucking her clitoris, fingers pressing into her. She comes for me and cries my name again and again. I can feel the contractions around my hand and the little spurts of moisture as she comes. I'm still soft. This is a worry. I don't think it's ever happened before.

Her insistent hand is tugging on my hair, hauling me up to kiss her, and for a minute we're pressed really close and I'm delving to the very bottom of her mouth. She tastes sweetly of chamomile and breath mints. She tastes herself on my tongue and groans through my kiss. Then she reaches down for me, and of course there's nothing. Nothing at all.

"Alex? Is there something wrong? Did I do something?" Her dark eyes are worried, and I find it hard to meet her gaze.

"No, Andy, you didn't do a thing. Why would you think that? I'm just a little stressed is all. Maybe just leave me out of it tonight. You enjoyed that didn't you?" She smiles and makes a sound of contentment in the back of her throat. I think she's going to leave it there but of course she doesn't. Rolling over to cover me, she works her way down my body to my fly, and opens it, hauling out my stupid penis, and licking around it in a careful, contemplative way. I think to myself that this is different from the way that Fox did it. His mouth was hotter, harder, and he wasn't so gentle. As I think of Fox, the fucking thing rises again, stiff and throbbing. It's only as I pretend that the mouth on me is his that all of a sudden, I come violently, not giving her a chance to pull away. She's ticked at me. Not half as ticked as I am at myself. We neck a little more, and then she leaves to go home, and I am alone with my thoughts.

What has that bastard done to me?

I take myself off to bed, and lie there in the darkness trying not to think of dark kisses sending lines of fire from my neck to my cock. I avoid the images of skin like silk sliding over me, while a hot sweet mouth lashes streamers of shivery joy wherever it touches and sucks me clean as I shoot into it.

It's no good. I can see him looking in disbelief at my boxers. I can see him as he was this morning, trying to conceal his feelings from me. Above all, I can see him above me, his face contorted with joy as he rides out his orgasm.

What the fuck do I do about this?

What is there I can possibly do? Wait, this too shall pass. I don't think there's anything else that can be done. I can't get his face out of my mind, and Mr. Happy, damn him, won't let me sleep. Finally, I grab hold of him and yank on him until he explodes again, locking up my joints and spattering me with evidence that I am still a man.

I sleep, but my dreams are confused, clouded with images of him. Twice I wake as my dick spurts in homage to my partner. By morning I feel heavy eyed and a little feverish.

I crawl through the day. I crawl through the week that follows it. It feels as if my whole life is done and gone now because of this one man. He treats me in his impersonal way, bullying me into letting him drive. He graciously listens to my theories and occasionally applauds them. His eyes follow me when he thinks I'm not watching, but I am. When he's there, I can't take my eyes off him. I'm good at observing through my eyelashes, and I don't think he knows. He never says anything, not even when I arrive yawning, hollow-eyed and cranky, ready to fight over any damn thing he likes. Andy finally decides that she wants someone who can fuck her. Oral sex is all very well in its way, she says, but she needs more. Go figure. I thought that girls liked it better.

Guess I was wrong!

The day comes when he's out of the office 'til late in the morning. I have no idea where he is, so I get to it and write a report, knowing that it needs to be done whether or not he's riding herd on me. The phone rings.

"Krycek."

"I need you to go get Agent Mulder for me right now." The voice is abrupt.

"Sir, I don't know where he is." I'm whining, I know it.

"Come on up to my office, Krycek, I'll give you all the details you need." Dumping the phone back into its cradle, I set off up the stairs at a trot.

As Skinner goes over the case file with me, I have an ominous foreboding. I know this man. I know what I'm required to do, and I can feel my time coming to a close. I repress a shudder, and the vision of Fox Mulder that rarely leaves me these days, eyes closed in ecstasy as he comes, floats up in front of me. How can I get through the next few days? Oh, Fox!

Bearing my clipboard like a shield against him, I race down to the swimming pool where I'm told he will be. As I enter, I can see a sleek form powering through the water. Nothing prepares me for the sight of him as he climbs out of the pool. He's wearing a red Speedo, and he's glistening wet. He leans on the rail as I approach to deliver my message, and I can see the long legs, the flat belly, the broad shoulders and the sleek muscles of his chest. I can see the bulge of his crotch, and my dick is doing its thing again.

My fingers ache to brush away the moisture clinging to the scattering of hairs on his chest, and I mumble incoherently at him. He does get the message and goes off to get changed, motioning for me to follow him. He's shooting questions at me over his shoulder as he goes, so I have no choice but to go after him. My extremities go numb, and I can feel a terrible leaden pressure in the pit of my stomach. Please don't make me do this.

My cock is so hard I'm gasping as I walk. I follow him in, and I can't concentrate on what he's saying because I'm watching him strip off the Speedo, and looking at his smooth white, beautiful butt. My tongue feels too big for my mouth, and there's no saliva left in there. My heart is thumping. I look at him poised with his towel, drying off his left leg, his knee raised, the dark strands of his pubic hair curling around his penis. I gulp, and then I croak.

"Fox!" He turns to eye me with interest. He stands there, still naked, making no attempt to cover himself, content to display himself to me. He waits.

"Fox, dammit!" I'm an idiot! I don't know what the hell to do or say, but I know he is waiting. "I want..."

He raises an eyebrow, and that sardonic look is on his face. I'm dying here and he's letting me. He waits.

"I want you." I mumble and he doesn't help me.

"Want me? How do you want me?" Served up on a silver platter surrounded by endives and truffles, I want to yell. I don't. I don't know what to say. I raise my eyes in mute appeal but find no answering kindness.

"I want to fuck you again." I practically yell it at him, and he nods, drops his towel and strides forward. I'm rooted to the spot as he takes me by the shoulders and yanks me forward into his embrace.

He holds me close to him, looking into my eyes with an expression I mistake for kindness at first. Then his lips descend on mine, drowning out reason, coherent thought and any sense of time that still remained to me. I remember the silk of his lips and open up to allow his tongue free access to the secrets of my mouth. He invades it, and plunges, licking and stroking, sifting through the space within it as if it were his own private place. My hands are full of warm, moist skin. My nose is full of the scent of chlorine with the underlying hint of warm, musky male. My cock is rigid, and I'm bucking up against him as if I were a teenager, dry humping a date.

He finally pulls back and gazes at me through lazy lidded eyes. His teeth appear, to bite into his lower lip as he studies me. I'm all in disarray, clumsy, sad, a poor monster faced with too much beauty. I don't know what to do, so in the end, I do nothing. It's enough, he pulls me to him again, his mouth moving down my chin to browse on my throat. I run my hands over him and feel the response in his quickening breaths and his urgent hands.

"Alex?" His voice, low and husky with need, breaks into my thoughts. I bring myself out of the trance I'm in with an effort. His hands go to my collar, smoothing my tie as if it were an extension of my flesh.

With difficulty, I drag myself back to the present. He's there, in front of me, and he wants a response from me.

"I'm sorry." I mumble. "We have to go. Skinner will be down to find out where we are if you don't get to his office in the next five minutes. I let my hands fall away from him, my palms still tingling from the feel of his silky skin. He purses his lips, nods and dresses efficiently, combing his wet hair back and grabbing the jacket of his suit to put on as he heads for the door. Pausing at the door, he turns back and leans against it waiting for me as I trail behind him.

"Tonight, Alex. We're going to have to get together tonight." He runs his finger across my lips, and I turn my head to suck it into my mouth. This makes him groan a little, and he pulls me to him again, pressing along the length of me, mouth slipping moistly to glue itself to mine again. I lean on him and feel his warmth through the silk of his suit, avidly sucking his tongue as I concentrate on the fiery knife-point prickles of sweetness generated by the feel of it in my mouth. I'm holding him helplessly, breath ragged, as I rub my body shamelessly against his.

"Oh, Baby, you really do want me, don't you?" His hand finds my fly and worms its way in to caress my shameless, desperate cock. He pulls on it lightly and I lose the power of speech. It's like magic, one tug and I'm a mute groaning mass of sensation! Then he shakes his head at me, drops to his knees and engulfs me in his soft, hot mouth. I can't help it, I scream, and he chuckles around my cock, the vibrations driving me batshit, making my knees give way. I fall forward to put my palms on the door so I can still stand up. The sweet sucking pressure of his mouth around my dick and the shivering sensation of true ecstasy coiling up my spine suddenly merge, and I throw my head back as I blow, shooting into his mouth, rigid with pleasure. It feels as if the top of my head is flying off, and his mouth tenderly licks me clean as I feel to make sure my brains aren't all hanging out where they can catch on things!

The force of my response shakes me. I can't do anything except roll my head from side to side and moan. He rises from his knees to fasten that mouth of his to mine again, and I sag in his arms like a Raggedy Andy...like a doll, just a doll.

When he releases me, and I can finally speak, there isn't anything I can say. He holds open the door for me, and I follow him, trembling, back into the real world.

Fuck!

Fuck and shit and God damn it! He's in there being a hero, and there goes my night in his arms. We don't have too much time left, and I want to feel good one last time.

Selfish of me, I know but I've only just found him. I can't lose him yet. God! I want to run away from here right now. They are all ignoring me, except for the ones who are using me as their errand boy. I want to go in there with my gun blazing and rescue him.

Please let him be OK. Please!

He looks terribly tired, terribly wounded. He's whining, and he never whines.

I want to kiss away the lines around his eyes. Skinner just told me to see that he gets home safely. I take his arm and mouth "Come on," and he stands mutely for a minute, before allowing me to lead him away.

He's so tired that he lets me drive. That has to be a first. I lead him tenderly from the car, take his keys from him and open his door. Then I gently tug him in and shut out the brightness of the morning. He just stands there, limbs hanging loosely, and I wonder how to help him.

Heading into the bathroom, towing him, in control for the first time in this relationship, I turn on the shower and help him to undress. He's limp, uncomplaining, totally plastic under my hands. The shock shows itself in the yellowing of his skin. I stroke his face gently and press small kisses on him to soothe him, but he doesn't really notice me.

Stripping my own clothes off, I get him under the shower, and stand behind him to work the shampoo into his hair, soaping his back, then reaching under his arms to attack the front of him with my soapy sponge. I'm pressed up close to his back, the warmth of the water mingling with the warmth of his skin. Running my hands over him, I create a mental blueprint that I will never be able to forget. I will have this to remember when the coming storm has me in its grip, and I can no longer reach him.

Unprotesting he allows me to dry him, and then I lead him to his bed. It's covered with files, books, a plate with a very old sandwich on it, even a partly dismantled piece of electronic something-or-other with lots of dials and LED lights on it. I pick it up and it rattles. Bits drop off it.

Clearing his bed takes a little time, but finally I sit him on the edge of it and drop down beside him.

I've brought him this far, he has to want what follows, or it's all for nothing. I put my arm around him and pull his head to my shoulder. At this point, he relaxes into my arms and sobs quietly. All I can do is stroke him and murmur nonsense to him, so that's what I do.

For a while we sit like this. I feel wetness on my shoulder and raise his face to lick away his tears. He tries a smile through his misery and my heart thuds painfully. I love this man, I really do, and it's all for nothing.

"Come on, you really need to sleep." I press him backwards, laying him down and arranging him so that he's covered. Crawling in to lie at his side, I throw my arm around his waist and curl my leg protectively over him. I kiss gently along his jaw, feeling the stubble that's been growing there for the past two days. My own chin is not much better, but I don't care, the rasp of his chin feels real to me.

"Sleep now, Fox. It will all seem more easy to solve after you get some rest." I'm speaking gently, trying to hypnotize him, I guess. Somehow I don't think I'll ever make a hypnotist, because he suddenly turns himself to face me and grabs me roughly, kissing my breath out of my lungs and digging his fingers into my side so hard it hurts me.

"Fox, you need to rest." My heart's pounding, and I want so much for him to make love to me, but he needs his sleep. He's at the end of his tether, so being the self-sacrificing man I am, I can forgo passion, to give him tenderness that he might recall someday when he thinks of me. He doesn't answer, he just proceeds to take me apart, body from soul, with his lips, his tongue and his clever fingers.

I am drowning in the warmth and feel of his body pressed along mine. I can feel his cock hard against mine, and I reach down to squeeze the two together, causing him to moan, causing me to moan too! I hold him close, whispering silly things to him, telling him that I want him, want this between us. Now I can tell him, the floodgates are open and I can't shut up. I babble about how much I need him between great, greedy kisses. I return again and again to those full lips, nibbling the lower, sucking them as I kiss him.

He finds my nipples and rolls them between his finger and thumb, sending coils of lust from my chest down to my balls. I'm rapidly losing the ability to rub two thoughts together. All I can think at the moment is summed up by "More, need more, now!" I'm grunting into his mouth as he draws the lightning down my body. I put my hand on him, feeling the satin smoothness of the skin covering his prick, and beneath it, the hard shaft. I tear myself from his devouring mouth to work my way down to the center of his body, leaving a wet trail of gentle kisses in my wake. He throws his head back as I take hold of his cock, and I can feel the bubbling under the skin as a thrill runs the length of him. There is a droplet of clear liquid at the tip of him, and I put out my tongue to taste it.

He tastes salty, and I lap around the head of his cock, eyes closed at first to savor the sensation, then open wide to drink in the sight of his pleasure at my actions. He is so beautiful. I'm mouthing the head of it, wondering if it's even possible to get the whole thing into my mouth, his hips are working frantically, and I try, diving down to take in as much as I can, and listening as he rewards me with a hissing sigh. I suck, lashing my tongue over the vein that runs down to the base, and my fingers creep through to part his cheeks, feeling for the sensitive opening that I recall made him thrill the first time we made love. I wet my fingers with saliva and probe until I can feel his muscle give way, and then my finger slides into him, right into him, making him cry out and grab my hair as he thrusts upwards into my mouth.

Moving my finger in and out of him, I watch him. His eyes are closed the way I've been picturing them every time I try to sleep, and the look of blind ecstasy on his face tells me I'm doing this right. He starts to jerk helplessly, and I'm going to taste him, I'm going to make him come for me.

"Give it to me! Oh, God, Fox, come on, I want to taste you. Give it to me now!" I push my finger in hard, angling back for that place I know that feels so good, and he cries out.

"Yes! Keep doing that, Alex. Please don't stop!" I can feel his muscles tensing, I suck hard and he tightens, pushing my head down on his cock and thrusting up at me until I can't breathe. I can feel the first spurting from his cock, and the sensation of it is unlike anything I've experienced before. He thrusts again, and again. My mouth fills with the taste of him, sharp, warm, acrid, mine.

As his erection begins to subside, I look up to him again.

"Now you can sleep? Did that help?" He smiles down to me.

"Don't think I'm finished yet! Come here, up here to me." His hand in my hair is pulling me, so I make my way upwards to lay partly covering him while he runs his hands over my back, down to my butt.

I take his face between my two hands and drop my head until my lips are brushing his. He cups my ass and pulls me against him, pressing my penis and causing me to shudder and groan. Finally, he rolls me over until he is lying above me and produces a tube of something from under the pillow. I'm kissing him as if he's my link to air. His hand goes to my cock and I can feel the slippery sensation of his slick hand working me up and down. I'm just about crying with the need to come when he pulls his mouth away from mine and rises up to sink himself down on my tingling shaft.

He slips down to rest, impaled on me, his muscle clenching around the base of my cock. He feels like hot, wet silk. He feels like home. I wait, rigid, knowing that if I move it will be all over. My balls are just about turning themselves inside out, and the biggest orgasm in the world lies curled in the pit of my stomach, waiting for the slightest movement to set it off. Once it gets loose, it will go ravening through my groin and send fiery pulses of slippery delight up my spine to lock up my limbs. Fox waits, watching me closely, knowing the state I'm in. He gets a cruel, wide smile on his face, and he drops his hands to caress my belly then leans forward to pinch my nipples.

Suddenly, as he moves on me, I lose every voluntary response, and that waiting monster rampages through my flesh, electric jolt, lightning bolt pouring me through my penis and out the end in a timeless, frantic fizzing rush. Everything goes dim, and all I can do is hold on tight to the sheet below me and concentrate on breathing.

He laughs, gently, and falls to hold me in his arms for a brief moment. I have no words to thank him with and can only touch him gently on the cheek as I gasp for air.

I clutch him to my chest and bury my lips in his neck. I feel him relaxing finally. Rolling to place him alongside me, I watch my lovely Fox slowly fall asleep, and my heart is heavy, because now I need to leave him.

He looks peaceful at last, sleeping, and I gradually disengage myself, pulling myself up to sit alongside him. I watch him sleep for a long time, burning into my memory the sight and feel of him beside me. This is all I will ever have, and I must not forget even a single second of it. I have to go now. I need to try and renegotiate with my employer. I can't be the cause of my lover's misery. I can't do it anymore, now that I know how much I love him. I brush his hair back off his face and very gently lean down to brush that tender lower lip with mine. Then I pour my heart out to him while he sleeps. I wish to God I had the courage to do it while he is waking, but I can't bear to see the contempt that will surely be in his eyes. When he learns of how I have harmed him, I will be long gone. I'll never see him again, but I'll never be able to forget him.

"Fox, my lovely Fox! I want to tell you this, even though I know you won't hear me. I'm not the man you think I am. I've been working for people who sent me to watch you, and to sabotage certain aspects of your work. I never meant to love you, but I do. Now I can't work against you any more, and I am going to go and try to change what I can. Please believe that I never would have hurt you if I had known you. I only hope that I can change things so that they aren't so bad." Then I place a kiss on his sleeping lips.

Then, sadly, I dress and leave.

There is an old Chinese proverb. One glass of wine is better spilled. If there is only one glassful and there will never be another, it is better to spill it on the ground than get a taste for it, because it will forever make you regret your loss. I drank, and I'll wish I hadn't for the rest of time.

3: Cheshire Cat

The lightning flashed in the plate glass and the reflection tore a hole in the back of his eyes, ruining his night vision and allowing the red-purple after images to riot across his visual field. He was so tired it would have been easy to relax into the fireworks display and just allow the discharge of nerve endings to seduce him into sleep.

He could not afford it. He was on the short strokes as it were. So close, he was so close to the payoff it was a living breathing entity. Drawing in a breath, he opened his eyes wider and waited for his night vision to return.

He moved from his car to a vantage point up on the hillside and as his vision returned, he could begin to make out the shapes of the aliens. They were milling about down there, scrambling and scuttling in the dark. They were so depressing. He would not allow them to take his planet. He would do what it took.

Whatever.

Sounds in the distance, and a car drew close. He saw the riot of the headlamps burst over the horizon, and then the car drew closer still. Another, and they were coming now, more and more cars coming to line up in the muddy field.

He shook his head, applied his eyes to the field glasses and began to check off the familiar faces as they emerged from their chrysalis vehicles. Light suddenly began to bloom, and the brightness coruscated around the glass and steel structure. He saw the men and women as they moved towards the light and mentally checked each of them off as they advanced. They were all there.

No, wait, they were not all there. Not all there at all.

Where was the cigarette smoking bastard? Alex could not see him anywhere. Then, finally a last car came straggling up, and as he turned to look, he heard screams. Screaming and smoke,

Oh, God!

With the scent of cooking pork. He vomited on the grass as he watched. The last car turned around and took off, and he watched it out of sight before climbing, shivering, back into his vehicle. He knew what he had to do now. He was the only one left.

Allowing the car to roll silently down the hillside, he started the engine as it reached the bottom and took off as fast as he could. Once over the horizon. he clicked on the lights and put his foot down. There was no time. No time left now.

Arriving at the facility, he used his hard won security clearance to pass through the checkpoints. Nobody there would know he had not been authorized. Nobody would ever be there again. It dawned on him that he and the bastard were the only two left, and if he could just get what he had come for, he would be in charge. He was not averse to being in charge.

He dressed in the quarantine suit as quickly as he could and scurried through the corridors, feeling like the rat he had been called. Reaching the cold room, he moved quickly to open the container and take out the tissue samples that would mean salvation for the world, redemption for himself, a life out of the shadows.

It was empty. The cupboard was bare. There was nothing there and he screamed. He had been so close, so very fucking close.

Stripping off the protective clothing, he turned and left the laboratory. His belly was flip-flopping as he went. Where to go? What to do now? How to regain the upper hand? The answer oozed unbidden into his mind - like the black oil and just as welcome.

Mulder.

His ace in the hole. His secret hybrid. He didn't want to go back to Mulder. He'd resisted seeing him. Mulder had never forgiven him for what he had seen as betrayal, way back when he was a junior agent. Mulder had spent the last few years pounding on him whenever he had the chance, and Alex could not see a day coming when they would ever reconcile. He'd avoided him successfully at the hospital, when Mulder had seen him and chased him. Now he was going to have to go back to him, and then who knew what would happen?

He felt sick. The dreadful smell of burning was still in his nostrils and the even more awful prospect of returning to Mulder hung over him. What else could possibly happen to him today? He rounded the corner and then he knew.

Spender. He could see Spender with a scarecrow in tow. A scarecrow he knew, incredulously, as Marita. Dyed-in-the-wool double-crossing perfidious bitch, and just look at her now. He stared at her, bemused. Knowledge that he had no need to seek revenge on her now hit him in his belly with a visceral clunk. He gasped slightly, and Spender, poor, dear, woolly-lamb Spender was talking to him. He didn't process the words, but knew they were asking for help. What a great day for the Krycek family. Amazing. He shook his head.

"It's all going to hell." He seemed to be saying that a lot lately, but it was true, and they should know. He allowed himself a further brief examination of Marita's discomfort, before turning like Moses to lead his pathetic followers to the Promised Land. Amazing how they followed him. Amazing how Spender trusted him even now. Totally amazing that Marita would place herself in his hands. He shook his head at the sheer stupidity of the two of them.

Then, he led them to safety.

Dropping them off at Spender's place, Alex allowed himself another grin. Marita was still wearing her green hospital robe. He wondered how Spender was going to deal with her. He didn't care, although on another day it would have been rewarding to watch. He snickered briefly, and turned to face his immediate problem.

Mulder.

God, Mulder! He had spent so much time screwing with Mulder's mind, the thought that he needed to go to him now, cap in hand as a supplicant, was the least appetizing thing he had been faced with in a very long time. He knew that if he got out of this with merely bodily bruises he would be doing very well indeed. He knew that his treatment of Mulder in the past wouldn't earn him any favors.

No use to put it off 'til later. Best face it now while he was still too heartsick to feel any pain. Starting his car again, he drove off.

The gloom of the dark streets suited his mood. God, he was so tired. He wanted to pull over and get a couple of minute's sleep, but there was really no time. He had to catch Mulder before he woke. The only way he would be able to control the encounter would be if he found the other man asleep and took charge of the conversation.

He arrived at Mulder's apartment block and parked in what he had come wryly to think of as his own parking space. The old woman that lived on the sixth floor had no car and Alex was used now to slipping into the space she had been allocated. He let his mind drift back in time to a short period when he had been Mulder's lover, before the betrayal he had been unable to avoid. He remembered Mulder going down on him in the swimming pool changing room, and even now, that memory was right, was necessary to him. He felt the cuts from his memory. Lashing pain that made him wince as he readied himself to meet Fox Mulder again, knowing that he had once been his lover, and never could be again.

Black in the shadows, he ghosted up to the door, and used a pick to open the way forward. He spurned the elevator, not wanting to risk waking someone who might remember him later. Silently he climbed the concrete stairs to the fourth floor, moving noiselessly as an owl through the building. Keds on his feet, black jeans and T-shirt worn under an old black jacket, he was merely another pool of shadow as he worked his way up to open the door onto Mulder's corridor.

He moved quickly, surely, making his way to the door of number 42 and using his lock-pick again to open it. Sliding inside, he carefully closed it behind him, listening for the double snick of the lock as it latched. Then he turned to the couch. He was so used to seeing Mulder asleep on his couch that it jarred him to see that it was empty. He stood baffled for a minute. What to do? He wasn't home. Mulder was never not home. He didn't have a life. He had no significant other he might be visiting.

An idea came to him and he padded on his panther feet to check out the other rooms. He knew that there must be a bedroom in this place although he had never seen it. Ordinarily Mulder slept on the couch. What the hell had happened? He realized that his memories of Mulder's habits came from many years ago and that so many changes had taken place since then that neither of them were the people they had been.

The first room he checked out was the kitchen. Surprisingly clean and tidy, it was obvious that Mulder spent very little of his time in the kitchen. Alex closed the door and moved on to the next. The door was almost closed, but not quite, and as he approached it, he knew he had hit paydirt. He could hear the deep breathing that signaled a sleeping Mulder.

As he stole into the bedroom, he could see the outline of the man, and a thrill ran through him as he paused to plan out his attack. He knew that if it were not executed perfectly it would not work. He knew too that he would not get a second chance at this. He drew his gun.

The man he was stalking lay sleeping on his back, arms flung wide and head lolling backwards. He was bare-chested, and the whiteness of his torso gleamed in the faint light from outside the open curtains. Long limbs tangled with the sheets, and Alex could see the rise and fall of his breast as he dreamed.

He grinned wryly to himself, recalling the last time they had encountered each other in this apartment. He'd been in charge that time too, leavening his message of alien rebellion with a healthy dose of mindfuckery. First he'd beaten Mulder, not severely, just sufficiently to demonstrate how if he wanted to, he could. He'd held Mulder captive at the point of his own gun, and then, to demonstrate his sheer devilry, he'd planted a kiss on Mulder's cheek. Then he'd handed him back his gun, turned his back and sauntered away. As he went, apparently relaxed, his muscles clenched in case, just in case Mulder got it together enough to pull that trigger and blast him to kingdom come.

He hadn't. He'd sat, stunned to silence, watching after him as he went. Alex hadn't seen him again, other than at the hospital when Mulder had chased him through the hospital and out the door into the parking lot.

Now, it was time to bite the bullet...a rather unfortunate phrase, though he said it himself. He moved over the carpet towards the man on the bed. A thought crossed his mind and it made him smile. Stooping, his hand clutching his gun, he placed his lips over Mulder's, and delicately applied the pressure and suction that would turn the gesture into a lover's kiss. He slid his tongue out to pass between the sleeper's lips, and tasted his sleep-drugged mouth as his memory leaped out to choke him.

The man on the bed responded for the flash of a moment. Alex felt the reciprocation, warmth of lips moving under his as the tongue probed outwards, seeking his own, just for a second, and then it was over.

"What the fuck?" The sleeper started up, and Alex, creature of the night, moved backwards to remain out of arm's reach of the very man he wished most in the world would hold him. By the time Mulder had woken enough to gather his scattered wits about him, Alex Krycek was standing at the foot of his bed, gun waving negligently at him, angelic smile wreathing his features.

It took Mulder a few seconds to process the changes in his room, but finally he had pulled himself to sitting, peering through the gloom at the man who appeared to have designated himself his nemesis.

"What now, Krycek? Can't it wait 'til morning? I was sleeping." His tone was flat, emotionless, and Alex would have believed him to be relaxed and a little bit fuddled if he hadn't seen the tension in the other man's hands, and the slight tremor that telegraphed his intention of movement. Alex leveled his gun.

"Come on Mulder, put your hands on the back of your head, you know the drill." He motioned with his gun, and Mulder, glaring, obliged him. Alex saw him relax, and knew that the threat of confrontation had been overcome for a few more minutes. "You're sleeping through one of the most important nights of your life. I'd have thought that you'd be out there tonight, watching the battle for your planet. Instead, here I find you in swinish slumber, to coin a phrase. You really can't afford to be sleeping." Krycek seated himself carefully on the end of the waterbed, and gestured with his gun. "Things have changed a lot since I was last in here."

"Krycek, what exactly is it that you want? What are you doing here? I suppose there's no point in asking how you got in?" Mulder sounded aggrieved, and Krycek laughed.

"As I was going up the stair, I met a man who wasn't there, he wasn't there again today, I think he's from the CIA. Come on Mulder. You're wasting my time, and we need to get you out of here to a safe place before the ones that are left come looking for you. You might not be too happy to see me, but tomorrow you'll be very dead if the rebels get to you first. For once in your life, do as someone suggests and get your ass in gear." He pulled open a drawer and began flinging underwear at Mulder. "Get dressed, we've got little or no time left."

Mulder continued to stare at Krycek in bewilderment, but after a second or two he climbed out of bed and began to pull on his underwear. He kept a wary eye on Alex as he found blue jeans and a sweater, pulling them on rapidly.

"Why should I trust you after everything you've done to me?" The question was conversational, but the eyes that Mulder turned on Krycek were black windows through which Krycek could see a sea of regrets.

"Because I've got the gun?" Alex gestured once again. "Come on, we have to go now. Now!" He turned and made for the door, hoping and praying that Mulder would follow. "Hate me and distrust me all you want, but your life is in danger tonight, Mulder, and if you don't come with me now, tonight, you will be a crispy critter by morning, and the Earth will be colonized before the year is out. Think about it. Is a fist fight with me worth the human race?" His voice was quiet, but something in it rang true, stopping Mulder in his tracks and making him catch the urgency. Together they left the apartment. Mulder made for the elevator, and the two of them heard it begin its ascent to the fourth floor before Mulder had the chance to press the button that would summon it.

Alex grabbed Mulder by the arm and virtually dragged him to the stair well. Hustling him into the quiet beyond the fire door, Alex gestured for silence from the other man as they stood in the poorly lit area. They heard the elevator doors open and then there was a pause before rattling indicated that something was happening outside.

"They've come for you, Mulder. I have to get you out of here. Come on, but quietly." Alex began descending the stairs, quietly moving from shadow to shadow. After a second or two, Mulder shrugged to himself and followed.

Arriving on the ground floor, Alex cautiously cracked open the fire door. He could clearly see the shapes of men, or reasonable facsimiles thereof, loitering around the lobby of the building. Allowing the door to close as quietly as he had opened it, he turned to Mulder.

"What's in the basement?" Mulder thought for a minute.

"Laundry facilities, the janitor's cupboard, there's a door out to the garbage disposal facility." Alex said nothing, he merely grabbed his arm once again and hustled him downstairs. "But it's kept locked at night," Mulder finished as they arrived at the door in question.

Alex gave him a sideways glance that raised blisters where it touched, and stuffed his gun into the waistband of his jeans so that he could pull a tool out of his pocket.

"Watch carefully, FBI man, this is the first lesson in "Treachery 101." There will be a test." He inserted the lock pick into the door and juggled it for what felt like forever, finally grunting in satisfaction as the door swung open.

Once again, Krycek grabbed the arm, and together they moved though the door. Krycek turned and bolted it behind him before clicking on his flashlight. Together they crept towards the back of the basement.

The two men paused at the door out of the basement, listening for any disturbance outside the door. They knew that they had to escape quickly or they would lose the element of surprise. Krycek was aware of the fate that awaited Mulder if he were taken. He knew also that his own fate would likely be similar. He knew too much. Hell, he knew everything. He might even be the only one left alive who did.

No! The Smoker was still around. Don't lose sight of that.

There seemed to be no sound, although the door was very heavy and it would be inclined to muffle sounds.

"What do you think? Shall we risk it?" Mulder's voice was quiet, and he showed no signs of sleepiness now.

"We have to. If we don't get out of here, we'll be roasted like bugs in a trap. Let's just take it nice and slow and easy, and go for it." Krycek's voice was low and husky. Mulder found that he had to strain to hear it, and ended up so close to the other man's lips that he could feel their movement on his ear. He shivered unaccountably.

Krycek drew back the bolts and attacked the door lock with his all-purpose tool, grinning over his shoulder at Mulder as he did so. "I hope you're getting this. You never know when you're going to be called upon to break out of a basement...or into an apartment."

The lock snicked quietly once, and then gradually the door slid open as Krycek peered carefully into the gloom of the garbage area. The smell was quite powerful, and Krycek held his nose briefly as the two of them ghosted forward into the shadow of the dumpsters.

Careful listening gave them no clue. They could hear nothing breaking the silence of the night, but fear roiled in Krycek's stomach. He had a fear that the rebels were concealed just beyond the doorway, and yet his scrutiny revealed no cover, anywhere that they could conceal themselves as they left the vicinity of the apartment block. He gestured, and as Mulder leaned in, he approximated his lips to Mulder's ear once again.

"There's no cover. We're just going to have to run for it and hope for the best. When I say the word, get going and I'll cover you. Go for the low buildings over there, and for God's sake wait for me. I'm probably the only person in the whole goddamn world who can save your sorry ass right about now." He spoke very quietly, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. Mulder could feel his skin start to creep as the realization that he was now a hunted man seized hold of him.

Krycek's body was taut and alert. Every sense seemed heightened as he drew his gun. Silently he gestured, a quick sideways flick of the head, and Mulder was gone, running as fast as he could over the moonlit pavement.

Krycek watched him reach the shadows, and breathed a sigh of relief that froze as he saw a hunter/seeker round the angle of the building. The creature hadn't seen Mulder, that was obvious, but his presence jeopardized the success of their mission. He couldn't join Mulder without attracting its attention, and if he lost Mulder...no, he couldn't lose Mulder. Best not to go there.

He tucked his gun away again and reached into his pocket to pull out a cylindrical metal object. Pressing a switch on the side caused a long wicked looking needle to spring out of the end.

He pulled back into the darkness behind the further dumpster and waited. He was rewarded a couple of minutes later by the bulky figure of the alien lumbering past him towards the door into the basement. Noiselessly, Alex slid from his hiding place to position himself behind the unsuspecting alien. Raising his needle-like device, he stabbed viciously into the back of the alien's neck, and it fell without any further commotion.

As the green, poisonous vapor began to ooze from the body at his feet, Alex turned quickly and, pulling his gun once more, he took off across the pavement, running as fast as he could.

As he reached the welcoming shadows of the building where he had seen Mulder vanish, he pressed himself up against the wall and tried to see where Mulder had gone. There was no sign of him, and Alex bit back a bitter curse. So near, he was so near to achieving his purpose. It would be just like Mulder to screw things up for him at the last minute. Fuck!

He snaked around the building and out of sight of the apartment block. His movements were subtle in the darkness, and his senses were tuned perfectly towards the place from where he expected the aliens to appear. He was not, when it came, prepared for the hand which seized his ankle as he crept along the wall, and he virtually jumped out of his skin, banging his head on the wall as he spooked. His curse at this point was far more explicit than the last, and extremely fluent. Mulder's voice came to him from the cellar into which he had climbed.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? How unsavory." Krycek crouched down and scrambled into the small, low wooden hatchway from which Mulder had ambushed him. A quick survey told him that it was as good a hiding place as they would find, and he quickly climbed down into the small, dark, dirty space next to Mulder.

Closing the wooden hatchway behind him, he pulled out his flashlight and quickly illuminated the room in which they were hidden. It was very small, and the ceiling was so low that neither he nor Mulder could stand erect. Mulder was now sitting on the floor hugging his knees. Krycek could see the tension in his ex-partner and dropped down to sit by his side, seeing him flinch as he did so.

"Okay, Krycek." The whisper was faint, but fierce. Alex extinguished the light and leaned his head back against the rough bricks of the wall. At least it was dry down here. They were going to have to stay there for a little while before they could get out of the area. God, he was tired. He closed his eyes and allowed the dizziness of sheer exhaustion to take him. Mulder was not going to let him get away with that, however, and in a moment of sheer irritation he realized that his companion was shaking him, none too gently. "Come on Krycek, so far I've done what you asked, but I'm not going to do anything else until you tell me what's going on."

Wearily, Alex turned to Mulder. "I told you. The invasion is starting. Tonight I watched a whole bunch of people being fried to a crisp, and among them was Cassandra Spender. She was the result of many years of experimentation. She was an alien/human hybrid, and she was supposed to be the means of developing the vaccine that would save the human race from takeover and eventual slavery. Most of the consortium has gone to their grave tonight, and I think I may be the only one in the world left alive who knows the truth. She was not the only hybrid. Another exists, and has existed in anonymity for many years, waiting for the day when the vaccine could be synthesized from his tissues." Alex's voice tailed off into gentle breathing, and he felt himself drifting off into sleep again. Mulder gripped him by the shoulder and shook him again, savagely.

"Come on you rat bastard. What are you implying?" The beginnings of panic were evident in Mulder's voice, but Alex had no time for kindness right now. If the fucker wouldn't let him rest, he saw no obligation to break it to him gently. He gave a sigh.

"I'm not implying anything, I'm merely stating facts. Mulder, your father was involved in this for years, along with that lousy cigarette smoking shit. As was my father. This is not hypothetical. This is the real deal I'm giving you here. You and your sister were carefully bred hybrids. You were kept in strict secrecy. Only four people knew of your existence. One of them told the aliens that a child existed and they took the child they were told about. That was Samantha. You were saved. You were kept secret. Now, as far as I know, you are the only thing that stands between the survival of humankind and total servitude. You'll forgive me if I'm being unnecessarily brutal, but it's been a long day, and if I don't get just a little sleep I'm gonna start making mistakes." Alex's rusty voice was still low, but the intensity of his feelings was unmistakable. As Mulder listened to the man beside him, he began to ask himself questions, and Alex could feel from the tension in him that he didn't like the answers he was getting.

Alex couldn't care less at this point. Closing his eyes again, he passed almost instantly into sleep, and his head lolled down onto Mulder's shoulder as he went out like a light. Mulder remained still. He'd been given a lot of information to digest. He didn't know how he felt about this man who had been his partner, and for a short time his lover, but he could not deny that tonight, the rat bastard had saved his life. Shrugging metaphorically, he closed his own eyes once more, and his head drooped to lie against Krycek's. He dozed off.

A crash from outside brought the two men awake instantly. Krycek had no idea what time it was or how long he had been asleep, but he was aware of gummy eyes, and a mouth that tasted like the bottom of a birdcage. He needed to pee really badly. Another crash from somewhere distant made him forget his discomfort as he tried to see through the cracks in the planking of the shutter without opening it.

Weak, watery daylight had dawned, and the wind had risen. After watching nervously for several moments, Alex was rewarded by the sight of an unlatched window in the building opposite. It was loose in the wind, and was banging against its frame. He relaxed, letting out the breath he had no idea he had been holding, and went to slide down alongside Mulder once again, pressing up to the side of him as the chill of the early morning seeped through his bones.

He checked his watch and found that the time was 7am. He sneaked a look at Mulder. The man seemed pensive. Alex turned to face him.

"We're going to have to get out of here sometime soon. I don't know about you, but I need to find a bathroom and a coffee. A wash would be nice too." A faint nod from Mulder signified assent. Dragging himself up to his feet, Alex cautiously opened the hatch, expecting at any minute for flame to burst in on him. All was quiet, and he emerged cautiously, followed by Mulder who was uncharacteristically subdued.

Together they stole their way around the building, and arranged a rendezvous site on the road. Alex turned and retraced his steps back to the parking lot that held his car. He could see no one, but he was aware of the possibility that he would be noticed and killed, or worse, followed back to where Mulder was awaiting him. He tried to walk nonchalantly and approached his car, checking surreptitiously as he did so.

Reaching his car, he did a speedy evaluation of the area and then opened the door. He had no reason to suppose that the rebels were aware of his presence in the vicinity, or that he even knew Mulder existed. He'd lived this long however by taking no chances. It now paid off for him. Slamming the door decisively, he moved away, pulling out his all purpose lock pick to break into a likely looking Ford that he could see parked a little way away. As he went toward the other car, there was a dull rumble, and his own car exploded, raining debris onto the surrounding area and laying open a gash in his cheek as he was struck by a piece of flying metal.

Fuck! There went his no-claims discount.

Speed had suddenly become incredibly important. He swiftly got the door of the Ford open, and after a few minutes fumbling, he heard the engine purr into life. He pulled away from the parking stall quickly, turning his vehicle towards the place where Mulder would be lurking. Gunning the engine, he took off like a rocket. As he approached the small group of trees they had selected, he slowed to a crawl and popped the central locking system. Mulder appeared at a run and made a dash for the car, yanking the door open as he made a dive for the passenger seat.

Without further ado Alex floored the pedal, and the car leaped forward.

"Now what?" Mulder was leaning back against the door, watching his ex-partner as he negotiated the early morning streets of Washington.

"We're going to find a safe place for 24 hours or so. Then, first thing on Monday, we're going to get you into the Hoover building and give everything we've got between us to Skinner. The time for secrecy is past and gone. We have to get as much of your tissue as we possibly can out to inoculate as many people as we can. I'd suggest that we start now, but first off they'd be watching for us. Second, we both need to catch up on sleep or we are going to make mistakes. Then, we'll be toast." Alex shuddered.

Damn his unfortunate turn of phrase. Mulder had no clue just how much like toast they were gong to be.

He turned into the parking lot of a small restaurant that had "All-day Breakfasts" advertised in the window. Wordlessly, they emerged from the car and filed into the dining room. Taking a seat, Alex ordered coffee and food for the two of them and then excused himself to head for the bathroom.

Mulder followed him.

The coffee, when it finally came, was hot and black. Alex didn't try to drink it at first, he merely held it to his face, allowing the steam to sink into his tired skin, and inhaled the fragrance. He had only gotten an hour and a half's sleep and he was still feeling extremely tired. As Mulder returned from the bathroom, Alex could see that he was not in much better shape.

Mulder sat down opposite and wrinkled his nose at the cholesterol-laden plate that had been set down in front of his companion. As Mulder began eating the fruit and yogurt he had ordered, Alex finally allowed himself to drink the coffee his hands had been cradling. He sighed in sheer enjoyment as he felt the bite of the hot liquid on his tongue.

"We're going to have to leave the car here." He spoke around a mouthful of eggs, and Mulder, who was just beginning an assault on his fruit and yogurt, raised his eyebrow in a query. "Yeah...didn't have time to tell you. I stole this one. That bang you heard was my car going boom. There's no point in leading them to us if we can avoid it, so we're gonna take a bus. There's a stop about a block and a half from here. Once we get where we're going, I've got another car we can use."

Mulder said nothing, and continued to munch his way methodically through his breakfast. Alex paused in his attack on the plate in front of him to watch the man eating. He'd loved Mulder so much once. Since then he'd been beaten and mutilated because of him, and he'd thought he was over him. The emotion roiling in his belly was suggesting to him that he was not only still in love with him, but that the feelings he had for him were stronger now than they ever had been. As he watched Mulder consuming the food in front of him, Alex felt as if his entire -section had suddenly fallen away. His breathing quickened and something, maybe the sheer strength of the emotions emanating from him, made Mulder look up and meet his gaze.

"What, Krycek? You look as if you've had a revelation." Alex shook himself. Better by far not to go there. He bent his head again and began to eat.

Breakfast done, Alex tossed money onto the table and the two of them emerged into the blustery morning. There was a gloomy, leaden sky lowering over them, and Mulder shivered once. The two of them made their way over to the bus stop in silence.

As the bus drew up, Alex tossed coins into the fare collection box and passed inside the bus. Mulder followed, and his face appeared to be as stormy as the morning outside.

"Fuck this, Krycek. I'm not a girl, and I'm not on a date. You can tell me where we're going right now, or I can get off this bus and go somewhere on my own. Give!" Alex eyed him nervously.

"Trust me, Mulder. We're going to a safe house that I set up a long time ago. I'm not about to sell you into slavery or turn you over to the aliens for experimentation. All I'm doing is taking us somewhere where we can catch a little sleep and hide out for a few hours. You're safer with me at this moment than you would be with anyone else in the world." Alex turned the full beam of his remarkable eyes onto Mulder. Mulder surveyed him sardonically for a few more seconds, and then gave a grunt and appeared to relax.

"You know, the one thing about repeating your mistakes over and over again is that at least you know exactly when to cringe." Mulder spoke on his usual flat voice, but when Alex's eyes flew to his face, he detected a small smile, rapidly fading.

"You betrayed me and mine so badly, I wanted to kill you, you know that?"

"I know. I've had to live with it for a long time now. You paid me out though, don't you think? There in Tunguska?" Alex was speaking quietly, picking his words with care. "It may not look like it, but all I've done has been to protect you. One day I'll be able to prove it to you. I was placed with you right at the beginning to make sure you came through it safely, and that, so far, is what I've done. You didn't make it easy for me. Seducing me was the worst thing you could have done. It clouded my feelings. It made me vulnerable and I made mistakes. Damn you, it made me love you. I never understood why you did it. Did you feel something for me or was it just because I was there?" There was hurt in his voice now and he knew it. The raw pain he thought had gone was back again. Amazing that he still felt this after the years that intervened.

"Krycek, Alex, what do you want me to say? I forgive you? I can't do that. I still recall you, all eyes and a bad haircut, following me around in your polyester suit. I can see you now, leaning against the door of the changing room just begging me to fuck you, and practically passing out with your need. You were so needy. How could I resist you? I can remember clearly how you put me to bed that day after Scully was taken. It was wonderful and I thought you loved me. I really thought you loved me. I didn't know you'd already betrayed me. I would have done anything for you then. When I found out that your innocent act was just that, an act, I wanted to kill you." Mulder was looking at something far away, his grey eyes unfocused as he stared into the beyond. Alex took a deep breath.

"I did what I had to. I didn't need to fall in love with you. I wish to God I hadn't. I've never been able to get you out of my mind, and after Tunguska I should have hunted you down and killed you. Look at me. You did this to me. What more punishment do you think I deserve?" Mulder focused on Alex, and his face clouded over in confusion.

"What are you talking about, Krycek? What punishment? You were living it up with a bunch of Russian prison guards while I froze in that cell last time I looked. I don't know where you went after I broke us out, but you sure didn't seem to be attracting any punishment as far as I could see."

Alex's face had slowly changed throughout this speech, and he was now as amazed as Mulder had ever seen him. Slowly, he drew the leather glove off his left hand.

"You mean you really don't know what you did to me? I could have got us out of that cell and away from there unscathed, but no! You had to go off half-cocked as usual. Look. Look at this. This is what happened after you threw me into the back of that fucking pick-up." His words were still quiet, but the intensity was so strong that the air seemed charged. As he spoke, Alex grabbed Mulder's hand and placed it on his own, ungloved left hand. Mulder froze, and then his face appeared to crumple. Alex released Mulder's wrist and leaned back in his seat, but Mulder's hand remained on the artificial limb, and Alex could see that there were emotions warring within him. "They just hacked it off me. They woke me in the middle of the night and hacked it off with a red hot blade. Wouldn't you call that payback, Mulder?"

There was a pause, and then Mulder turned to him as if to say something. As he opened his mouth, Alex pointed.

"Our stop. Come on, we're nearly there." Abruptly, he rose to his feet and made his way to the door of the bus. He could feel the other man following on his heels as he stepped down and off the bus, into the gloomy morning. It had now begun to rain, savage needles of fine cold water that were lashed across his face by the gusts of wind. He turned, gestured to Mulder, and then moved off at a brisk trot.

The two of them approached a small, dilapidated looking house. The windows were boarded over, and the paint had peeled so badly from the siding that it was difficult to assign a color to the structure. Mulder thought it might once have been green, but that might just have been the sheen of moss on the old wood.

Alex removed a key from his pocket and opened the door, standing aside to permit Mulder's passage into the musty smelling place.

"You want to stay here, Krycek? Are you out of your mind?" The question was indignant, and Alex grinned at him, impishly.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, Mulder. Follow me." He secured the door behind him, and led the way across the empty room towards the back of the house. Opening a tall cupboard, he shoved a bunch of cardboard boxes out of the way and revealed another door behind them. He drew another key from his pocket and unlocked it swiftly. Drawing the door back, he indicated a flight of stairs that descended into the basement. He flicked on a light switch and gestured for Mulder to precede him down the stairs.

Once again, Alex ensured that the door behind him was locked, and then followed Mulder down into the basement. Mulder was standing, looking around him at the facilities of the place in which he had found himself There was a small office alcove with a computer and a phone. A door, partially closed, showed that there were bathroom facilities within, and the main area was given over to a bed, armchairs and several closets. Krycek made an elaborate gesture.

"Welcome to my humble abode."

Mulder looked at him in disbelief. You live here, Krycek?"

Alex grinned nastily at him."From time to time I do, yeah." His voice contained ill-suppressed amusement as Mulder shook his head in amazement. "There are occasions when I don't want to be discovered by certain people, and it's never been discovered yet. You should be honored that I'm revealing it to you. It's not often I feel this generous."

Alex made his way over to the bed, and sitting down, began to pull off his shoes and socks, sighing with relief as he did so. Mulder gaped at him as he stood and began to shed his clothing, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his sweater and T-shirt off over his head.

"What are you doing?" Mulder appeared completely baffled by the other man's actions. Alex gazed at him fondly, a malicious smile playing across his features as he did so.

"I'm getting ready to go to bed. That's what I'm doing right now. I hate sleeping in my clothes. I'm going to have a shower, and then I'm going to get into this bed and try for a full eight hours sleep. I've had maybe an hour and a half in the past 36, and I'm completely wiped out. You can do whatever you like. You can sleep here in this bed, with me, or in a chair if you prefer. Hell, if you want, you can stay awake. Feel free to hack into all my files. There's no reason for secrecy any more. I'm sorry if you're embarrassed by my nudity, but it's not as if there's anything you haven't seen before, is there?" The last words were flung at him like a challenge, and his words were punctuated by the rustle and slide of clothing as he removed it, allowing it to fall where it would.

Finally, he removed his artificial limb, disengaging it from his torso and tossing it over into an armchair, and stood naked in front of his guest. His expression was a mix of defiance and regret. Mulder studied the body before him. He'd wanted Krycek from the first moment he has seen him, and was aware that he had hustled the younger man into a sexual relationship he had't wanted. He'd been in perfect control of the partnership at that time, and Krycek's weakness had been a turn-on for him.

Time had written many changes on the slate, and now he was no longer in control. The body before him was almost the same.

Almost.

He could not bring himself to look at the injury Krycek had sustained. He took in the long, slightly bowed, well-muscled legs, the tight curve of his buttocks, and his flat stomach. His eyes wandered over the man's chest, taking in the depth and strength of it, and up to his face. The man was even more beautiful now. Mulder could see that suffering had changed him, and the maturity of his face was the result of this. He exhaled, suddenly aware that the sight of Alex had literally taken his breath away. Alex turned away and padded off towards the bathroom, leaving Mulder alone with his thoughts.

In what seemed like seconds, Krycek was back, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, droplets of water glistening in his short hair, and off his eyelashes. Mulder had remained standing in the same position, thoughts racing through his head as he tried to readjust his attitudes. Krycek favored him with a further level stare as he began to towel himself dry. Mulder watched him for a moment or two, and then began stripping himself off to go for his own shower.

Krycek watched him go, and then turned his attention to the bed. He was more than ready for it. Giving a deep groan of satisfaction, he threw back the comforter and climbed into it. Within a few moments, he was asleep.

Alex awoke gradually for once. He was warm, comfortable, and had a feeling of well being that he hadn't experienced for as long as he could remember.

He stretched luxuriously, and became aware of the warmth of a body beside him in the bed. He was suddenly wide-awake, a shock flashing through his system as he recalled the previous 24 hours. Rolling over to face his companion, he opened his eyes cautiously, and found that he was looking straight into a pair of hazel eyes that were regarding him with interest.

His heart stuttered as he regarded Mulder, and the knowledge that he had slept along side him for the past little while made him shiver despite his warmth. He lay, unmoving, wondering what the other man was thinking about.

He closed his eyes once more and sighed, his voice signaling comfort as he stretched again, feeling the sensual snap and pop of joints against muscle. He yawned again and began to think of coffee.

Mulder was still submitting him to that disconcerting inspection, and after a few more minutes occasionally peeping through his lashes, Alex started to feel a little uncomfortable.

"What?" His voice was husky with sleep and he felt muzzy. Mulder didn't respond immediately, and Alex opened his eyes cautiously to see what the hell was going on with his bedfellow. He was just in time to see Mulder's hand reach out to him. He flinched, not ready to deal with violence at this moment, but the palm of Mulder's hand came to rest on his cheek, and he froze, not quite believing what was happening.

"You looked so young. I was remembering you before..." Mulder didn't have to finish his sentence. Alex lay, captured beneath the palm that touched him so gently. He felt unable to move. Strange, forlorn hopes ran crazily through his mind and he greatly feared that he was about to lose not only his advantage, but also his credibility as he felt his genitals start to pulse and fill up. The nudity with which he had maliciously taunted Mulder was now to be a liability as memories of the feel of him crawled on Alex's skin. He uttered a strange little sigh and nestled his cheek into Mulder's reaching hand. If he was going to be reduced to begging, he might as well get it over and have done with it.

"Mulder, you know how I felt...feel about you?" Alex spoke very fast, as if somehow he would only be able to discuss this if he articulated it all right now. He still had not moved and he was trying not to shiver under the warmth of the other man's touch. Mulder had not as yet done anything except lay his hand on Alex. Now, as Alex lay still, the pit of his stomach somehow lurched, earthquake and aftershock. There was a warm, queer feeling inside him as if he were melting over the bed. Mulder deliberately moved his thumb across Alex's sleep swollen lips, smoothing them delicately.

Alex gave his little choked sob sound once again and turned his face into that hand of Mulder's, placing a moist little kiss into the palm of it. He felt all at once afraid and excited as he suddenly realized what was happening to him. He closed his eyes, feeling the stab of excitement pierce his body from navel to knees, and put his hand up to cover Mulder's. He felt the hand under his tense slightly, and then, soft as a whisper, smooth lips brushed his and he cried out as his belly melted and flowed into the mattress.

The man beside him laughed harshly, and his hand slid around to cup the back of Alex's head, drawing him closer and then Alex was lost in sensation as Mulder fixed his mouth over his, kissing him with an intensity that made him catch his breath.

Alex felt as if he were drowning in sensation. His heart began to thud and the blood pounded briskly in his ears. He reached out for Mulder and pulled him in close, feeling the smooth skin of his back as he slid his hand around to embrace him. He parted his lips and felt Mulder move to take advantage of it, tasting the sweetness of the other man's mouth. It had been so long, so damn long since he had felt like this. His heart fluttered, and all of a sudden his stomach was filled with butterflies. He growled.

He bent forward to insert his tongue between Mulder's lips, mouth following to browse avidly on the other man's sensitive spots until he heard him moan. Pulling back, he looked down at him again and thrills passed through him because

He loves this, look at him, he loves it.

He was going to make Mulder scream. He was going to make him remember. He would make him sorry for every day, every night they had let go by without love. He prepared to put everything he had into making love to this man, hoping, praying that it would be enough to make up for the actions he had committed in the past. Knowing it probably wouldn't be, but willing to give everything, so dearly did he want this.

All the love and desperate longing he had ever felt for the man he was holding surged through him and he shivered, sinking himself into the feel of tongue teasing tongue and lip working against soft lip.

"Oh, God, Fox, it's been so long." Alex's whisky voice, soulful and jaded, stroked fine echoes of vibration that hung over Mulder. Alex saw him shudder. Looking at Mulder, his eyes were pools of obsidian and his mouth was an open question. He slid his hand into Mulder's thick hair, tugging it playfully, and then pulled the hair in his hand forward until their mouths collided, silken saliva and moist skin, while Mulder burrowed into him, trying to get ever closer, hands clutching and arms tightening in spasm as they kissed.

Alex was, for this moment, feeling good. He felt, at least right now, in total control and he knew that he could do anything he wanted to do to the man in his arms. He slid his hand around under Mulder's ass, and turned him, lowering him down to lie beneath him. His breathing was harsh as he rained kisses down on his eyes, his hairline, his jaw, and from there down to his throat. Mulder had clasped his hands behind Alex's head, and he was clinging to him, pulling his mouth back to meet his lips, teeth nibbling, tongue stroking and tasting. The warmth of his mouth was making Alex's head swim, and the two of them groaned, and then began to chuckle as they realized that they had done so simultaneously.

Alex reared up over the helplessly giggling Mulder, his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh, and dove down to trace a line with his tongue from throat to navel. Pausing to dip his tongue into the quaking man's navel as he did so he heard with satisfaction the sudden hiss that finally quenched his laughter. Looking up at Mulder, he encountered cloudy eyes, darkened with desire as he licked the tracery of fur that arrowed down to his groin. The sight made him catch his breath.

He bent his head to lap at angry, engorged flesh, relishing the taste, making every lick, every slide of his tongue over the length of it, last as long as he could, and rejoicing in the whimpers his actions elicited from his victim.

Mulder put hands to his head, and Alex pulled off, snarling, growling. Hastily, the hands flew back from him, to clutch the pillow, and Alex smiled at his lover, white teeth shining in the half-light, before swooping to engulf him in his warm, wet mouth. Mulder had reached the stage where he was powerless to do anything except groan. The lost, whimpering sounds he made just made Alex feel more powerful, somehow stronger.

He gave Mulder one last, hard suck, swirling his tongue around the crown of his cock before pulling off to look for something he could use as lube. Mulder moaned as he did so, almost putting out a hand to pull him back, but the hissing snarl Alex turned his way caused him to reconsider and he bit the back of his hand instead.

Alex was pleased, fiercely pleased. He had checked the drawers and found nothing that would conceivably work for them, and was beginning to resign himself to the fact that he and Mulder would not be able to do more than this. Not wanting to lose the momentum, he grabbed Mulder under his buttocks and deep throated him, gurgling as he felt the silk covered hardness touching the back of his throat. Mulder arched and cried out again, back bowing and straining into the all consuming furnace of Alex's mouth. Alex was by now sucking so hard that it was only a matter of seconds before Mulder couldn't hold it back and the fluid that poured from him gushed easy and fine into Alex's sucking mouth and swirling tongue.

Alex could feel Mulder trembling and jerking. He had not felt so happy for a long time. Aliens at the front door and the world well lost for love. Even knowing how irresponsible he was being, he could not stop the joy from seething around his system. It had been so fucking long since he and Mulder had been lovers. He thought he had been able to get over his lost love, but now he knew that he would never be able to cut Mulder out of his system. He slowly retreated from his position with Mulder sucked deep in his mouth until he was just resting on the limp man's thigh, lightly breathing on his reddened cock, watching it as it slowly subsided. Slowly then he slid up to cover the man, fixing his lips over Mulder's mouth to share the taste of his come with him. Mulder had no choice, he had caught fire and was starting to burn as Alex slid his arm under him, threading under his armpit to cup the back of his head and draw him to his insistent kiss. Even though he had just come, he was starting to harden again, pressed up against Alex's own jutting cock. He began to moan again, somewhere deep in his throat, and the resonance of it made Mulder's pulse leap. He sustained the kiss, tongue deep, deep inside, finding all the warmth and the sweetness he had craved for so long and tearing it from him while Mulder moaned and held him tight.

This was it for Alex. He had everything he wanted in the whole, fucking world. Everything. He pulled back at last, looking at the man in his arms. His lips were puffy and swollen from his attention, and he had his eyes closed. Alex bent to suckle on his throat, and was rewarded with another moan. He left a red mark as his mouth came away from Mulder's pulse-point.

"I could rip out your throat." He laughed as Mulder clutched him spasmodically. "You're mine now. Mine. I've missed you so much." His voice, hoarse with desire, sounded like frayed velvet ribbons, coiling in the air between them.

Mulder opened dazed eyes to stare blindly into his. "I never stopped wanting you, you know. Even when I hated you, I wanted you more." Alex could only shake his head from side to side and move to fasten their mouths together once again.

Lacking any kind of lube, he spat on his fingers and slid his hand down to feel his way over the temptingly displayed playthings Mulder had to offer. He stroked the writhing man's penis, and dropped down to fondle the sac beneath, feeling the ridges rise, corduroy and fuzz. His hand strayed to the cleft below where he located the dip and pucker that told him he had found Mulder's tight little asshole. Concentrating, he spat again, semen and saliva mixed onto his fingers, stroking it around the hole there. He had really started to feel his own cock begging him for action and had to pause for a second while he got himself under control, feeling the ripples of sensation flickering around his balls as he hung on. He slid an easy finger into Mulder, hooking it just so, and surprising a small yelp out of him as his finger found the hard little gland inside.

"You like that, eh? Want me to do it again?" He suited action to words as he stroked that finger over him again and again. Mulder started moaning again and Alex added another finger to stroke, twist, and stroke in an easy rhythm that caused droplets to start oozing from the head of Mulder's dick.

Finally, he sat up, took back his fingers and spat to lube up his cock. He was gasping now he was so close and he wanted more than anything to make this last.

Hooking Mulder's legs up over his shoulder, he positioned himself, and threw his head back, biting his lip. He felt the heat of his lover and suddenly was no longer sure if he could do this. He thought maybe it would be all over before he got inside. He waited, panting, and Mulder reached up to pull his head down, opening his lips to him and distracting him for the few seconds he needed to calm down, then he pushed.

Tight, silken heat. Want to sink in and drown forever

Into Mulder, past the tightness of his ring and into the passageway beyond where he lay, cradled snugly, held tight in that rippling furnace, walls sucking on him as he slid in, in.

He moaned and Mulder cried out his name, sending thrills through his system and making him drive deeper, deeper into him. Then they were making music, fucking music that had Alex reeling as he pushed in hard. He was inside, right inside that heat and he didn't know if he was going to be able to last long enough because the feelings were so intense. He pushed again and slid further in, gasping and shuddering.

Mulder was chewing on his lower lip as Alex pushed in, and he was losing himself again, had to stop and think remote thoughts before he exploded. He shoved his tongue down Mulder's throat as he finally sank in as far as he could possibly go. He was encased, possessed, totally surrounded by Fox and it was everything he wanted or needed. He pulled back an inch or two and Thrust. He shoved as hard as he could, straining against the rippling walls of the tight velvet sheath that was Mulder. He began to grunt, plunging deep, and unable to stop himself.

"Do it to me. Do it hard, Alex, hard." The voice was harsh and strained. Alex looked down at him, but he couldn't talk. Couldn't say a word if he wanted to. If words were necessary. Alex pulled back again and stroked, back and stroke, and the whole world became only this.

He was sure that he was going to die. Mulder still had his hand around the back of his head and now he pulled him down again to fix his mouth onto Alex's throat while his other hand went down to find and pump his own cock as Alex pounded into him.

Alex could feel it gathering. He was strung out tight as a bowstring, and the tickling flashes gathered first in the small of his back as he strained, gulping the air and hanging on, hanging on for dear life to Mulder's shoulders. The build up of tension was still making him grunt, little, lost sounds that Mulder echoed back as he approached his own climax.

Finally, Alex knew that he couldn't stop it. No turning back now as he

Pumped! Rigid, straining, tingles flash-flooding through him as he shuddered and shook,

//Oh God good, so good I can't stand it//

And spurted deep into Mulder. Then as he was coming down, ready to collapse and lie limp over Mulder's chest, Mulder came too, rolling his head from side to side as he spurted onto himself, and onto Alex.

Falling forward to bury his face into the hollow of Mulder's shoulder, Alex could feel his long looked for arms tighten around him, and muzzily wondered what was happening. This was wonderful. This was coming home. He tried to process what was happening, what had happened just, but he was too full of emotion to think straight. Vaguely, he knew that loving someone this much would be bad. He could get hurt so easily, but the thoughts just refused to solidify. He had to sleep again, had to, and at the same time as he slipped out of his lover, he slipped out of conscious thought.

He didn't feel Mulder stroking his neck, but he was safe, warm and being held by the man he loved and that was enough for him just then.

Later, he woke up, still lying over Mulder, who was trying to wriggle out from under him a little.

"You get heavy after a while, man. Can't breathe properly." The voice was gentle, and there was a smile to go with it that warmed him up as he rolled to one side and opened his arms for the other man to crawl into. They exchanged warm kisses, and then they drifted off to sleep. He would be there when he woke up and for Alex, that was enough.

Waking up was wonderful. He didn't know what time it was or even what day, but he was feeling wonderful if a little stiff. He was starving, and clicked on the light to check his watch. It was six in the evening, and he was really ready for something to eat, and coffee, he really needed coffee.

Sliding out of bed, he left his still sleeping lover, and crept silently for the kitchen to put on coffee, and then to the bathroom where he emptied his aching bladder, brushed his teeth and studied himself critically in the mirror. He was trying to see what changes had occurred in the past four years. He gazed at himself, recalling his appearance the day he had taken Mulder home. He'd been so stupid, so fucking young. How could he have thought he would be able to hold onto Mulder?

The thought of the other man sleeping in his bed, and the lovemaking they had enjoyed earlier made him tingle. He washed his face and went back into the bedroom to find that Mulder had woken and was sitting up in bed mildly watching the door.

"Coffee? I'd say good morning, but it isn't." Alex smiled a greeting at Mulder as he passed the bed.

"Come here." The laconic voice brushed over his ears, sending shivers down his spine with the intimacy of it. Alex allowed the voice to draw him over to the bed. Coming to rest on the edge of the bed beside Mulder, he raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. Mulder leaned forward to snag him around the shoulders, pulling him forward into a crushing embrace. Their mouths met, and for a moment there was only sensation and warmth, then Mulder pushed him away, holding him out at arm's length to study him.

"God, you're so much more beautiful now than you were then. Suffering suits you, Alex." Mulder was smiling a little, and Alex leaned forward to nip his lower lip, pulling it in between his teeth.

"Don't you be thinking to make me beautiful by cutting anything else off me, Fox. I grow more beautiful with care and attention too!" Alex was still nibbling that lower lip, and his words were a little muffled. Fox tightened his arms around Alex and laid his head on Alex's shoulder, deepening the kiss.

"Can I smell coffee?" Mulder's voice was plaintive.

"You bet, baby. There is no way I would hide out without coffee! It's filtering right now." Mulder was still holding him tightly, and Alex snuggled there, grinning wider than a Cheshire cat as he soaked up the love he could feel.

Tomorrow they would have to face the music, and get Fox in to see Skinner and Kersh, but tonight was theirs, and after four lonely years Alex Krycek was at long last, happy.

4: Jabberwocky

Jabberwocky

'TWAS brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Lewis Carroll

He was cold and his left arm hurt like the dickens. His mouth felt as if it were filled with sand. The fabric that covered his face stifled him, and he was close to panic. He moved uneasily, but there was no give in the thongs that held him.

He moaned, his voice sounding terribly loud in the silence. Nothing stirred. Panic fluttered just behind his eyelids, and his mouth loaded with unvoiced screams. He felt almost ready to die from the strain of holding back his terror when the other spoke inside his head.

"It won't be long now."

"I need to get out of here. I'm afraid." His mind shrieked an answer to the visitor inside his head, but already the presence of the other had already begun to have a calming effect.

"I know. He's coming. Soon you'll be safe. Hold on."

The man lay still once again. For the time being he was pacified. This inner communion was all he needed.

Fox Mulder had almost forgotten Alex Krycek. He certainly hadn't ever expected to see the man again. Had he been asked, and were he honest, he would have admitted that way down in the back of his mind, in the place that he ignored because he just couldn't change it, there remained a hurt, ragged fissure that ate positive emotion and bled rage and hate when touched.

Mulder wasn't honest, merely expedient, and he did the things he had to in order to survive. Alex had gone from his life, and at first he didn't have the time to seek him out. Later he believed Alex was dead.

When the end came and the black ops had been routed, the public vaccinated and the alien threat rendered harmless, Dana Scully and Fox Mulder had led the attack on the last stronghold of the Consortium.

It had taken them years to prove the threat to humanity, more years, much heartache and bloodshed to counter it, and now the clean up seemed almost an anti-climax. They had traced the Consortium back to this single facility in the west, and the pair of them had flown from DC to Washington State to be in at the final act of this drama. They still hadn't discovered the whereabouts of the Cigarette Smoking Man but it was hoped that he would be discovered during this raid.

"They don't call it the Pacific North Wet for nothing," Mulder observed wryly, as he waited beside his partner for the go ahead to move in.

"It will make you grow, Mulder, it's good for you," rejoined the pocket redhead as she crouched beside him, looking delectably as though being damp around the edges was the latest fashion.

The pair of them wore FBI issue jackets and hats, with kevlar vests beneath, and they carried heavy-duty weapons. When they finally got the go ahead, they would be ready for anything that might come at them.

Scully opened her mouth to whisper something to her partner, but at that moment there were shouts and her words were lost in a flurry of action. Guns fired and the door blew out from the front wall of the low concrete building that was set into the cliff face.

Pausing to don their gas masks, the two agents joined the throng of military and FBI moving in.

The rain lashed down on them with renewed force, kicking up mud and causing the ground to froth around their ankles. Mulder turned up his collar and hunched his shoulders beneath the fierce, driving sting of the water, and then sloshed his way over the waterlogged ground towards the door, his gun out drawn and ready. Scully pattered behind him, ploughing through the puddles like a tiny tank.

As the special team moved in she could see Mulder slip into the shadow that surrounded the entrance and make for the doorway that now stood open, black and mysterious, a rotting tooth in a grey-white concrete maw.

Without a second thought she followed him in, passing out of the gloom and into the smoky atmosphere of the bunker, turning on her flashlight as she went.

The powerful beam cut through the darkness to illuminate a long corridor and several other members of the task force, all wearing masks. Some propelled weeping men at gunpoint but the smoker was nowhere to be seen. Mulder was moving quickly ahead of her, striding through the melee, focused as ever on his surroundings to the exclusion of all else. Rolling her eyes, she plodded gamely after him.

Deeper inside, the corridor ended at a T-junction, and for a minute Mulder paused, allowing her to catch up with him at last. To the right the corridor opened out into a huge room, a laboratory of sorts, equipped with a number of complex machines and a row of tanks, each filled with a viscous liquid, and each seemingly occupied by a vaguely human shape. Nothing moved, and other than the sound, now faint, of the prisoners being rounded up, the only thing to break the stillness was the sound of bubbles passing through liquid.

Wordlessly, Mulder turned left to prowl along the corridor on that side. There were several doors set into the wall of the passageway, and Scully nudged Mulder, pointing at the barred grilles positioned at eye level on several of the doors.

Mulder nodded, somehow reluctant to break the shroud of silence that hung over them, though had he been asked, he'd have been unable to say why. He wasn't exactly superstitious but there was a bad feel to the place that he really didn't want to awaken.

The first door revealed a storeroom complete with janitorial supplies and a cowering old woman, who didn't appear to be rowing with both oars in the water. She babbled a few words in a language that Scully had never heard before and sank down onto the floor, a look of piteous entreaty on her face as she sat amid a dark pool that slowly spread around her feet.

"Leave her, Scully." Mulder sounded horrified as he turned away to the opposite door. This revealed an office and Mulder stepped inside to examine it more closely. As he moved towards the back of the room, Scully heard a tiny rustling sound, and, instinct kicking in, aimed her gun squarely at the center of the desk and shouted "FBI. Come out with your hands up."

Mulder cast a perplexed look at her and stood still waiting to see what would happen.

"I'm going to count to three and then I'm going to shoot." Her voice was firm. She was sure that someone was hiding behind the desk.

"One." Nothing. There was only silence.

"Two." Still nothing. She cocked her pistol and the sound was deafening in the leaden silence.

"Three." She was pulling the trigger, had almost fired when the man climbed out holding his hands away from his body in an almost apologetic manner.

Mulder gave a grunt of satisfaction and set about applying handcuffs to the man he had hated for so many years. He turned, yanking Spender behind him and headed towards the exit, and the prison cell that awaited the old man in his grip. For once, Spender was silent. There was nothing left to say.

Scully turned to follow him and then glanced back at the doors towards the end, the ones with the shuttered grilles. Sighing, she turned to go and look at them, feeling as she did so that it was probably a mistake, but unable to leave without seeing if there were prisoners.

The first door opened readily, revealing what was most definitely a cell. There was a bunk with a thin mattress in one corner, and a toilet bowl that jutted obscenely beside it. Nothing else broke the starkness of the narrow room. Ominous stains on the floor and in the mattress made the hair at the nape of her neck prickle.

Moving to the second door, she found it locked. Standing on tiptoe she peered through the grille into the room itself, and then applied her gun to the lock, firing into it. The door gave, and she yanked it open as her flashlight beam revealed a woman, lying on the bunk, arms bound to a ring over her head, and a black hood covering her face.

Stepping inside while she fumbled for her pocketknife, Scully rapidly severed the leather thongs that held the woman to the wall. As the woman sat up, raising swollen, empurpled hands to the hood she wore, Scully was torn. This woman needed help, but what if there were others like her?

"Stay there. I'll be back in a minute." Scully was back in the corridor again yelling for support, and seeing figures coming towards her she turned without waiting for a reply, moving swiftly to try the next door. It gave easily, revealing only empty, dusty desolation. Two doors left.

The next, as she slid the grille open gave her a fright. Something hurled itself against the door from within, something that raged and snarled and scrambled at the grating with claws that put her knife to shame.

She fell back, gasping, and moved away, leaving it unopened.

The fifth and final door revealed another prisoner, bound like the woman in a black hood, wrists lashed together to a ring that was set into the wall above his head. Unlike the woman she had already found, the man was bound at his ankles too. He was clad only in a white garment that barely covered him. His thighs, scattered with fine fuzz, protruded from the hem of the garment, giving way to long, strong legs. Scully made haste to get the door open, shooting out the lock once more until the door slumped open.

The man hadn't moved, and for a minute Scully thought that he might be dead, but then she saw the faint rise and fall of the man's chest. He was breathing. That meant something.

Swiftly, she made her way to him, cut the thongs that held him captive, and stood back, waiting for signs that he was conscious. There was nothing. Reaching to unfasten the hood, she began to remove it. Just as she was beginning to pull it from the man's face, there was a commotion in the hallway, and Mulder summoned her. Moving to the door, she beckoned one of the medics to take over as she raced to assist Mulder, putting out of her mind the man who had lain motionless in the fifth cell.

Once she had handed the woman over to the medical team she headed to find Mulder, pausing only to mention the presence of the man she'd left behind, lying so still.

She found Mulder in the middle of an argument with the task force leader about what was to be done with the Smoker, and when the field nurse came to her to tell her that they had found nobody in the fifth cell she was perplexed.

The mopping up exercise was almost over now. Mulder and Scully had seen the Smoker into the back of a prison van and watched with grim satisfaction as he set off for the local jail where he would spend the night.

The water fell in sheets that frothed up the mud underfoot and stung any exposed skin to livid rawness. Scully wondered if it had ever been other than this. She recalled sunshine, but could no longer feel it warm on her skin, and thought that her imagination was either too good, or not good enough.

They'd rounded the end of the bunker when they saw him.

Scully thought that maybe he believed he was alone, or perhaps he'd reached that point in his life where he no longer cared, didn't give a damn, knew that there was only one life, and he'd just reclaimed his portion of it.

Either way it didn't matter. He was leaning against the wall. He stood, face turned up into the rain as it sluiced down over him. Rivulets running from temple to jaw and streaming down his long neck. Somewhere along the line, he'd removed the mask that had concealed his features, and he was looking up at the grey, leaden sky, a soft smile on his face.

He must have been cold, but he showed no sign of it. All he wore was that same, loose-fitting white shirt that hung over his shoulders, adhering to the long slabs of muscle that studded his chest and arms. His bare feet were planted squarely in the thick, yellow mud, and Scully could see his toes working, curling and uncurling, cat-like in the frothing earth.

The two of them recognized him at the same time, and Scully shot out a hand to hold her partner back as he muttered an obscenity

"He was a prisoner." She said, softly as he started forward, his fists clenched.

The man was looking down now, lost in his own thoughts. The white cotton of the shirt he wore was translucent under the force of the downpour. His nipples stood proud, crinkled by the cold. Scully could see the dark, furred area around his groin, and the lighter bulge of his genitalia. The shirt stopped abruptly at mid thigh, revealing a pair of long, sturdy legs.

Mulder was virtually spitting with fury and again Scully placed a restraining hand on his arm, this time repeating, "Mulder, he was a prisoner. He was tied up, with a mask on his face. I was in the middle of taking it off when you called me." Mulder turned to her, his teeth set in a snarl.

"He probably double crossed them too." He snapped, and started towards the man trailing Scully behind him like a silk scarf.

When the man finally saw them approaching, he smiled; a sweet, guileless smile that lit his face and made his eyes shine through the dull, dark afternoon.

Krycek, you son of a bitch!" Mulder's angry voice cut the air like a pistol shot, and Scully made another small noise of remonstration.

Drawing up in front of the man Mulder leaned forward, thrusting his chin forward into the other man's face. Scully waited for the explosion of wrath that she felt sure would emanate from one or the other of the two men, but it didn't seem to be forthcoming. Alex Krycek, still leaning against the wall, raised his palms up to show them.

"Look! Two hands... " His smile was incandescent, and Scully furrowed her brow, wondering what the significance of that was, and why it seemed as if the man's smile was lighting up the lowering, greasy sky, "Two hands... "

The chocolate brown voice was soft, and it was almost as though he were talking to himself. Mulder moved back half a step and Krycek murmured something quietly to himself in a language she didn't know. Then, in a move fast enough to make her gasp, he laid his two hands against the sides of Mulder's astonished face, leaned forward, and applied his lips to Mulder's in a very thorough, very moist, very audible kiss.

Scully's jaw dropped as Mulder permitted the contact without moving, and Krycek leaned forward to press his almost naked body against Mulder. Time seemed to slip its gears and run idle. She could have sworn that sounds were muted and the rain hung in a veil, waiting to resume its downward path while she watched Alex Krycek kiss Fox Mulder.

When the tableau broke and the real world crashed over their heads like a monsoon, she found that she'd been holding her breath.

Mulder shoved Krycek, sending him to lie full length in the thick mud in which they'd been standing. As Krycek began to rise to his feet, his back slick and yellowed, Mulder moved in to hit and found himself face down in the sucking ooze of it, gasping for breath as he tried to right himself.

At that point the fight was on. Mulder flailing and Krycek - strangely - laughing as the two of them rolled about like small boys, punching at each other's backs as they tumbled and squelched in the filth at her feet.

Unconsciously Scully took a step back, and then another as the two men threatened to roll her way. Shit yellow was just not her color.

She shivered. It was beginning to grow dark, and whatever warmth the washed-out sun afforded now would soon be gone. Drawing a deep breath, she made up her mind.

"Mulder, he's going to catch his death if we don't get him covered up and indoors. He's turning blue."

On the ground, Krycek had wrapped his arms around Mulder's neck once more, and had applied himself to kissing the other man, his head still half submerged in the viscous mud.

Mulder finally struggled upright, hauling his virtually naked adversary roughly to his feet.

"Come on, move it." He yanked Krycek forward, roughly and made for the car dripping mud and fury in equal quantities and leaving Scully to trot after him feeling not only supremely irritated, but utterly confused into the bargain.

Arriving back at the car, Mulder hustled Krycek into the back, where he sat, dripping wet and laughing softly to himself, clutching to him the blanket Scully had found. Scully could hear his teeth chattering and leaned to turn the car heater on full as Mulder pulled away, turning the car for Seattle, and civilization of sorts.

The ride back to Seattle was strange, oddly dislocated from reality. Krycek had stopped laughing, and was shivering now even though the car heater was successfully turning the interior of the car into what felt to Scully like a steam bath. He seemed bemused by his hands and ceaselessly rubbed and stroked them together. Mulder, thickly caked in mud, drove grimly, a scowl plastered on under the mud, and formed his own small tribute to mud wrestlers everywhere as wet filth dripped from him like chocolate to lie in pools around his feet. Scully shuddered to think what Budget were going to say when they checked their vehicle back in.

When at last they reached the hotel they had been staying in, Krycek was shaking violently, obviously in great need of warmth and assistance.

"You're going to have to share with him, Mulder, unless you want him to have his own room."

Mulder glowered at her for a couple of seconds before nodding and then opened the door to his room. Turning, he took hold of his very oddly behaving captive to lead him inside. By this time Krycek appeared to be semi-comatose, though he still shivered. Scully placed a hand against Krycek's neck, assessing the situation rapidly. He was shocked and hypothermic.

Snapping "Bring him." over her shoulder, she rushed into room and through into the bathroom, where she began to fill up the tub with warm water.

Mulder groused for a second or two and then attempted to collect Krycek. The man appeared unconscious now and it was with some difficulty that Mulder managed to prize him out of the car where he lay slumped, limp against Mulder.

Sighing crossly, Mulder flexed his knees and hefted the sturdy body to stagger indoors with him.

Depositing the man's limp frame into the bathtub, Mulder left him to Scully while he turned his attention to his own mud-soaked person. He was cold and filthy, and he felt strange, very strange indeed.

Over the years he'd become used to Krycek messing with his head, but this was different. He knew, although Scully didn't, what the significance of Krycek's mumbled "two hands" was. He was at a loss to comprehend the double agent's insistent attempts to kiss him, but he certainly knew that Krycek had lost an arm. He'd even taunted the man about it.

Isn't that how you like to beat yourself?

And had wished he hadn't afterwards. Krycek had kissed him then as well. What was with the man? Krycek had always kept him guessing, and this new, strange behavior was, in a way, only to be expected. What a mindfuck. The man was a master at it, and had made a study of the buttons he needed to press in order to make him, Mulder, crazy.

When they'd actually been together, he'd disappeared in the night and left him alone to wonder where he'd gone. The following day, Mulder had woken up in the underground bunker, expecting his newfound lover to be there, sleeping alongside him. He hadn't been. He had vanished without a word, and when Mulder had ventured out to go to work on the Monday, he'd returned in the evening to find the site a heap of smoking rubble. He hadn't seen Alex Krycek again, until now.

Stripped naked, Mulder collected a towel and used it to dry off the worst of the filth. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the bathroom to see how Scully was doing with the Ratboy.

Krycek lay in the tub exactly where he'd been placed. He still wore the thin shirt, now stained yellow-brown by the mud in which they'd been battling.

He was conscious once more, and his face had gone from blue tinged to a flushed red. His eyes were alarming, huge and bruised looking, glittering with fever.

"Mulder, help me." Scully indicated the shirt Krycek wore, and Mulder bent reluctantly to remove it, trying unsuccessfully at first to pull it off over Krycek's head before finally taking it in both his hands and ripping it away from the quiescent body. Krycek didn't seem to register the motion at all, and Mulder fell back, dropping the ripped fabric into the garbage container beside the basin.

"I'm going to wait in the bedroom, Mulder. Let me know when he's clean." Scully was moving even as she spoke, and Mulder knew it would do no earthly good to argue. Sighing, he studied the man in the tub.

"Come on, Krycek. Get moving. I need a bath too. Here." Irritated, he took the other man's hand and placed the facecloth in it, resisting the message that Krycek was genuinely sick. Krycek grasped feebly at the wet fabric, but seemed unable to do more than swipe limply. Finally, his lips moved slightly and Mulder bent to listen.

"Help... Don' feel s'good." His eyes rolled up, and he appeared to lose consciousness.

For the next minute or so Mulder swore fluently, and Scully put her head around the door, a single eyebrow raised so eloquently that he subsided, sighed, and finally climbed into the tub behind Krycek.

The warmth of the water was sybaritic bliss. Mulder felt the heat seep into his bones as he sank down, holding Krycek against him. The other man's head fell back to lie against his shoulder at an oddly uncomfortable looking angle. His breathing had become strident, and he felt furnace hot against Mulder's skin. Sighing, his skin prickling with unaccustomed worry, Mulder set to and began to wash away all traces of their encounter in the mud puddle. Somehow the bastard had gotten the better of him yet again. How dare he be sick when Mulder was spoiling for a fight?

Krycek groaned and turned his face in to nestle against Mulder's neck, and it suddenly seemed to Mulder very important that he get out of there, away from the disturbingly beautiful man who was behaving so disconcertingly.

Caked in mud as they both were, it soon became apparent that they'd get no cleaner without a change of water, and Mulder struggled with his toe to yank out the plug and drain it, before scrambling out from behind Krycek to start the shower.

At last the two of them were clean to his satisfaction, and he left Krycek in the empty tub, wrapped a clean towel around himself, and went into the bedroom in search of clean clothing. He needed to get some clothing between himself and his former lover.

"Well, Scully, he's clean now, but it looks like he's going to spend the night in the tub. I can't seem to rouse him." He flipped open his suitcase, riffling through the contents and pulling out jeans, boxers and a soft, cotton shirt. Scully rose to her feet and marched off into the bathroom, leaving him to throw on his denim plated armor.

She returned just as he was buttoning his shirt, to demand his assistance in getting his unwelcome guest out of the bathtub and into bed. He rolled his eyes to heaven, and then went reluctantly to where the apparently comatose man lay waiting.

Together, they wrestled Krycek, barely conscious as he was, out of the bathtub and into the bedroom. Mulder had toweled him off and decanted him, limp and shivering, into the bed. Then Scully had left to find a pharmacist that could supply her with the medication that Krycek needed, and food for herself and Mulder. Returning with a Chinese take out, she proceeded to dose Krycek, and then feed her partner and herself.

Mulder, chafing at the necessity of staying beside their undeniably sick captive, was on the phone, mercilessly haranguing the agents who had taken Spender into custody, demanding that they get him back to DC as soon as possible. At the same time he demanded to know what the Smoker had said, and abjured them from any action that might detract from his triumph later. Scully was idly flipping through a copy of Newsweek, and Krycek remained motionless within the bed, his complexion a waxen, unhealthy color.

Neither of them was aware of the sick man's increasing restlessness until he was suddenly out of the bed, tottering to stand between them.

Scully was the first to sense that not all was as it should be. She looked up from her reading to see the naked body of the former FBI agent looming over her, and gasped.

He stood, swaying slightly, his complexion heightened by fever, and his eyes... She suppressed a scream.

Black marble swirled opaque across his eyes.

"Mulder."

Mulder continued talking, and she called his name again. "Mulder, I need you."

He turned, and his eyes widened as he caught his first sight of the man who had become his bete noir over the years. Krycek stood, waiting patiently, who knew for what?

The black film over Krycek's eyes eddied endlessly, and Scully cowered back into her chair, uncertain.

"Krycek?" The voice Mulder found at last was tinged with horror. Krycek turned his head to survey Mulder, his face impassive, his eyes black pools that seemed to consume the light and radiate dark certainty.

"The one you name Krycek is a satisfactory vessel, however, my need for such a vessel has now ended. There would be a reward should you assist my departure." Lashes dipped over gleaming onyx, and Krycek stood passive and somehow incomplete, head drooping, the purity of his features breathtaking as he awaited a response.

"Where are you going?" Mulder blurted out the question with no real expectation of a reply. When the being responded, both Mulder and Scully jumped.

"This world is no longer suitable for the ones who came here to take it. The one you call Krycek has assisted me in ensuring this, and deserves now to have the sole use of this vessel. I wish only to return to my place." Again Krycek slumped, and as the breathy voice ceased he stood waiting, merely being, a statue of flesh and blood, perfectly proportioned and utterly beautiful, a living sculpture.

"How long has Krycek... have you...?" Scully floundered for the words she needed, battling to keep any expression from her voice as she asked the question.

"I have been associated with this vessel for some years. Krycek and I have shared our ideals and adopted common goals. Now they are completed, I may leave. Assist me and be rewarded."

"Wait a minute." Mulder's voice was sharp in the ensuing silence. "When did you and Krycek begin your... " He floundered for a minute. "Your association?"

"It was five years ago. Krycek was in your company at the time of our meeting. I am grateful for that. You and he have much history together." The statement was merely that, a statement, flat and disinterested. Scully, who had sat with her jaw agape at this turn of events, put out a hand to touch Krycek's flushed skin.

"Be that as it may, this man is sick and if you value your 'vessel' you need to get him back into bed." She said, tartly.

The man turned and walked back to the bed, where he sat heavily, swung his legs around, and pulled the covers up to cover himself. He remained sitting.

"It isn't my intent to cause harm to this vessel... to Krycek's body.

"Krycek has assisted in the salvation of your world. I owe him much, as do you." The black film that floated over Krycek's eyes lent him an unearthly, sphinx-like expression.

"Let me get this straight." Mulder was frowning as he stared at his former adversary. "You think Krycek has been working for the good guys?" He laughed, cynically, but his mind was racing, recalling a night spent in an underground storage shed, a bus ride, and a single night of lovemaking that had felt real until the morning, and then hurt so much he'd put it away from him.

The life form that might or might not be Krycek eyed him with a basilisk stare.

"Krycek has been the vehicle by which the invasion of your world has been countered. We carried the vaccine to your government, and only because of my ability to heal this body quickly were we able to make a difference in time. Krycek has willingly jeopardized his safety and well being for the sake of this world." The alien moved as if to speak again, and suddenly the serenity of the mask-like expression was shattered. For a moment the blackness rolled back from Krycek's eyes and his face took on a look of set determination. After a moment or two Krycek's body relaxed once more, and his mouth closed, permitting the previous placid expression to return.

"This body has suffered much in the process, but I won't leave it damaged. Krycek deserves whatever he wishes to possess." Once again the spasm flickered across Krycek's face, and when the voice spoke again, it was hoarse.

"Mulder... Fox." The sound that grated from Krycek's lips was raw, and filled with pain. "Mulder, I... " He fell silent once more, and there was a pause, then, "Help Bandersnatch get home, please."

"Krycek, what are you trying to pull here? Where are you expecting us to take you?" Scully was as succinct as ever, and the wide black eyes turned to her.

"The ship waits in North Dakota. There is where I have to go before I can free this vessel."

Mulder acquiesced. "You want us to take you back to the silo where..."

The man in the bed nodded. "We have restored the body to its former operational strength. By morning, the virus we are enduring will be gone. Now it remains only for us to return to our place, and he to his. Will you assist us in this matter?" Serene and beautiful, the being before him was a temptation that Mulder found almost too much. Almost, but there were still niggling doubts.

"If we do this, what guarantee do we have that you're telling us the truth?" Once again, Scully cut to the heart of the matter, wielding her words like a scalpel, while Mulder sat on the edge of the bed, perplexed.

"My word and my deeds are guarantee enough."

Krycek stretched out his arm for them to see. "This should be an earnest of my good intent. I could have forced you... occupied you."

Scully was still confused, and sat with her white forehead creased as a million questions bubbled beneath the surface of her brain. Mulder leant forward to examine the arm, recalling with a cold shiver the mumbled chat of 'two hands, two hands' he had heard earlier on that afternoon. Faint white scars formed a ring around the biceps, and the flesh below it was pale, almost translucent, the bulge and dip of the muscle a solid delight as slight motion caused it to slide beneath the skin.

Tracing down the scattering of dark hair to the delicacy of the well-turned wrist and the long, elegant fingers with their oval nails, all seemed perfectly normal. Mulder knew that Krycek had lost this arm. He had shared a bed with him, and made love to him. He knew this was impossible. The arm lay somewhere thousands of miles away, discarded. It had either been burned in the fire or buried in the forest around Tunguska after being severed brutally by a pack of ignorant Russian peasants who had believed that they were doing him a favor.

"How...?" The shocked whisper caused the uncomprehending Scully to snap her head round to look at them in bafflement.

"Mulder, tell me what's going on?"

In hushed tones, Mulder described what had happened, watching her eyes turn dark with horror that the story evoked. Moving over to them, she leant forward to examine the arm that Mulder designated, and then took Krycek's other arm to compare the two.

The black eyes turned to her and the full mouth smiled gently.

"The vessel was harmed for our cause. It's our duty to make restitution. This we have done. Krycek has agreed that we may find our place and depart in peace."

The two FBI agents exchanged meaningful looks as the alien ceased to speak, finally Scully moved away, motioning Mulder to follow her.

"Mulder, what do you think? It just isn't possible to grow a hand and an arm." Her voice was low, and Mulder nodded.

"Scully, I know what I saw. I know it sounds unscientific, but his arm had been hacked off, I know, I saw it. I saw the scars. I saw the stump. Krycek had been mutilated. He can't possibly have faked it."

"Mulder, there's no way he could suddenly have re-grown an entire limb. It's just not possible."

"You can't argue with the truth, Scully. I vote for taking him back to his ship and seeing what happens. You can't deny that there's something very strange going on with him. Just look at his eyes. That proves it beyond a doubt. There's no way he could be faking that." Scully pressed her lips together, but after reflecting for a minute or two, she nodded. The two of them turned back to Krycek. They'd both seen the results of black oil infection, and they were uneasy at the thought of being in Krycek's proximity.

He'd changed dramatically. He no longer sat upright in the bed, he'd slumped back against the pillows and his breath was strident as he lay, glassy eyed. The black film had receded from them and all that remained was the man they had always known, a man that appeared right then to be very sick.

"Mulder?" The croak of his voice seemed very loud in the still room. "You gonna help us?"

"We're gonna take you back to the silo, if that's what you mean, Krycek." Mulder's words seemed to have exactly the right effect on Krycek. He smiled seraphically, and closed his eyes.

"Thanks, Mulder. You'll never know what this means to me."

Mulder stood for a long time looking down on Krycek, who appeared to drift off into a doze.

"That's what you think, tovarich. Trust me. I will, oh yes I will."

Later that night, climbing into bed beside the still sleeping Krycek, Mulder wondered if he'd finally gone insane. Krycek had always managed to keep him completely off balance. He'd never known whether the man was angel or devil, and now he felt as though he'd somehow slipped into a looking glass world where everything had turned on its head. Years ago he'd seduced Krycek, and then learned to hate him. He'd been rescued and seduced in return by a Krycek who was infinitely worldlier and more cynical than the young man he'd learned to hate, but who had still professed to love him. That man had rocked his world, and then vanished without trace, leaving him alone to refine the hatred he had learned.

Since then he hadn't been able to keep the image of Alex Krycek straight in his head. He hadn't seen the man, or any trace of him since he'd left his safe hideout over a year ago. When he'd gone back looking for Alex, Alex had gone, and so was the hideout. The old house that had stood above the subterranean apartment had been scattered to the four winds, and the little haven where he and his lover had shared their brief respite was no more.

He'd believed that Alex was dead, because that was preferable to believing himself betrayed again. He'd even shed a tear for Alex. Now, he didn't know what to believe. He wondered if this alien had ridden the Alex that had saved him at midnight from the hunters who had come for him. From what the man said, it seemed that he had been.

He laid his hand against Krycek's face. This afternoon he'd been thoroughly kissed by this being, whatever he was. It had awoken memories in him, memories of sweet kisses in times gone by.

Krycek seemed cooler now, and his breathing less harsh. Was it the alien within, working its strange magic, or was it merely Scully's medication, Mulder didn't know. In an uncharacteristically gentle gesture, Mulder smoothed back the stray hair that lay on the other man's broad forehead. Then he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't quite day when he awoke. Something had changed, but at first he couldn't decide exactly what.

Turning, he saw that the other half of the bed was empty, and sat up with a start. Krycek stood beside the window, peering out between the drapes, his body a pale, slender flame burning against the shadows.

"Mulder?"

"What is it?"

"I never stopped loving you, never stopped caring. You'll never know how hard it was to walk away from you, knowing that you thought me dead." The flicker of pale flesh against the gloom told of Krycek's approach to the bed, and Mulder suddenly felt vulnerable.

"Krycek, I can't do anything for you, see anything coming of this. I don't know what to tell you. You've got some kind of a creature inside of you. I can't... "

"You know what?" There was the lilt of a smile in Krycek's voice as he answered. "I'm gonna miss him when he's gone. It seems really strange to think about being alone again." The edge of the bed dipped as Krycek sat down beside Mulder. "It's been a long time."

"What happened to you, Alex? Your arm...?"

Krycek laughed softly. "The creature inside me has an ally that knows a way to tip my genetic make up into re-growth. He did it for me. Unfortunately, in doing so he managed to reveal his presence to old Spender. He was very impressed until he found that there was no way to force his obedience. When Scully found me and cut me loose, I was expecting old Spender to come and slit my throat. It was a personal thing with him. I've been to hell and back in this last year, Mulder, but here I am, and look at my hands."

The man moved swiftly, lifting both hands to place them against Mulder's cheeks as he leaned forward to fix soft lips onto Mulder's as his tongue fluttered against them, requesting entry. Mulder allowed himself to relax into the caress, as sweet, half forgotten memories rushed back to stir him as he opened himself to the kiss.

Krycek moaned softly, his breath puffing from him as Mulder turned his head, angling it as he parted his lips to deepen the kiss. His strong, flexible fingers slid around to cup the back of his head, holding him still for an expert exploration of his mouth, tracing teeth and tongue with fierce concentration that demanded everything that Mulder had to give. When they finally broke apart, Mulder was shivering himself, his body recalling times gone by when Krycek had lain with him, held him and made love to him.

"Krycek, this alien you're carrying around with you...?"

"Bandersnatch? I don't know what to tell you, Mulder. He and I have been together for a long time. He wants me to be happy. He's trying his damnedest to make things right again for me. He wants us to be lovers again because he knows what I want." Alex's words were hesitant, and Mulder shivered again.

"I don't know. I don't think I can while that thing is riding along inside of you." Alex's lips were ghosting kisses from Mulder's jaw along the line of his throat and down into the hollow of his collarbone. "Too much, Alex, please... "

"It was fine between us the night I pulled you out of your apartment and took you to my little hidey-hole for safety. Where's the difference?"

Krycek turned away then, and made his way back around to his own side of the bed, climbed in, and lay still. As Mulder lay huddled in his own small space he suspected that there would be no further sleep for him that night.

The morning dawned, still cheerless and wet. Mulder's memory of a time when the sun had warmed him was growing dim. Sheets of cold, angry rain needled down without cease, and he decided against a run before breakfast, choosing instead to snuggle into the warmth of the bed. A sudden movement reminded him that he wasn't alone, and he jumped at the touch of warm skin, turning his head cautiously to study the man beside him in the bed.

Krycek looked better this morning. His color was good, and his breathing was back to normal, no hint of the stridor of the night before remained. He lay on his belly, one arm curled under the pillow, the other outflung to dangle over the side of the bed. Thick, dark lashes curled on his cheek, and his lips, slightly parted, showed a glimpse of white teeth. His expression was one of great content. Mulder couldn't take his eyes off him, wanted to thread his fingers through the soft, dark hair, wanted to kiss the breath from his body even as he watched him.

The memory of the black slickness marbling the eyes now closed in sleep made Mulder reconsider and he swiftly rolled out of bed, pulling on the jeans and T-shirt he'd discarded the night before.

He was searching for a single, errant sock when he became aware of Krycek's gaze on his back, and turned to find speaking green eyes fixed on him. There was no trace of black.

"Good morning, Krycek. At least as good a morning as is possible in this miserable weather."

Alex smiled faintly, then threw back the bedclothes and made his way around the bed and into the bathroom, giving Mulder ample opportunity to admire the graceful, predatory stalk that was his usual form of locomotion. The sight of him made Mulder tingle. He'd had the chance. He knew the pleasure that lush body could give, and yet he'd turned it down.

With a groan he went over to his suitcase. It seemed to him that the sooner he found something to cover up his ex partner's nudity, the less under pressure he would feel.

When Krycek finally emerged from the bathroom, damp and shining, Mulder gestured to him, passing him underwear, jeans and a T-shirt. Krycek took them with a gesture of thanks and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on boxers and socks.

"I'm going to need to get some clothes of my own, Mulder. Feet are gonna be a problem. Your shoes are too small for me." Mulder surveyed Krycek as he sat, half in and half out of his second best pair of blue jeans.

"Do you actually have any money, Krycek? How are we going to get you clothed?"

Alex grinned, tapping his forehead. "Just get me to a bank, Mulder. I'll be okay."

Alex struggled into the jeans, fighting to fasten them. Once on they looked as though they had been spray painted on by an artist of great discernment. Mulder itched to run his hands over them, and then take them off again. With great difficulty he tore his mind from the image before him and back to fearful thoughts of alien possession.

"What's it like, Krycek?" Mulder's question broke the silence, and Krycek, struggling into Mulder's T-shirt, didn't answer for a moment.

"You mean Bandersnatch?" He spoke as his head popped up out of the neck of the shirt, and grinned at Mulder's confusion. "That's what I call him, Bandersnatch. It's from the old poem Lewis Carroll wrote. It's okay - kind of comforting in a way. There have been times when I'd have gone totally crazy if he hadn't been along for the ride." He tugged down on the T-shirt that snugged over his chest, showing clearly the small peaks that were his nipples, and the streamlined musculature of his chest and belly.

As fully clothed as possible given their limited resources, Alex reclined on the bed in a manner that pushed all of Mulder's buttons and caused the breath to catch in his throat.

"What do you mean? What did he do for you?" Mulder had found a real live alien at last, and as he began to formulate question for it he forgot the incongruity of the situation and embraced his newly found extreme possibility.

"He was... with me, I guess that's want you call it. He supported me, calmed me, helped get out of a hell of a lot of nasty situations. He's fucked up a couple, but then so have I. I'll miss him when he's gone, but at least he's given me back my wing." Krycek's right hand had been running up and down his left arm, and he smiled once again, dazzling Mulder with his radiant happiness. "Jeez, Mulder, you have no way of knowing how good it feels to be whole again. I can tie shoelaces, hold a remote while I eat popcorn, eat corn on the cob, drive a stick shift...Beat myself with both hands! " He was suddenly on his feet, sinuous and fluid in his movement, beside Mulder even as the other man blinked and stepped back. "I can hold you in both my arms, Fox. I'm going to spend a lot of time doing that."

He caught Mulder against him as he spoke, and he moved in to nuzzle against Mulder's ear, nibbling at the lobe as his breathy whisper tickled against Mulder.

"Krycek... Alex, I don't... " The words were swallowed as warm lips sought his mouth, fiercely claiming, visiting each sensitive fold with a slick and questing tongue. Sighing, Mulder gave himself to the embrace, beginning at last to return the kiss as his own arms slipped around Krycek to hold him in answer. For a few minutes no further words were spoken and the two men stood locked in each other's arms as they kissed passionately.

They were still pressed tight against each other when Scully knocked on the door.

Pulling apart at last, Mulder left Krycek, whose chest as heaving and whose every inch spoke of arousal, and went to the door to let his partner enter.

She seemed curious as she came inside the room, darting swift glances at Mulder, who was well aware that his kiss-swollen mouth betrayed his recent occupation, and then flicking to Krycek, who had turned to make for the bathroom once more.

"How did you sleep?" Was all she said as she moved to perch on the edge of the tumbled bed.

"Surprisingly well. He seems to be much better this morning."

"So I see." Her eyes flashed approval as they took inventory of the other man's skintight clothing, and the smug aura of sensuality as he emerged from the safe haven of the bathroom.

"Scully, I don't know what you're thinking, but nothing happened last night... I mean it wasn't like that... " His words trailed away as Scully fixed him with an inscrutable stare.

"Mulder, I'm not thinking anything. I'm sure you have one or two things we might want to discuss at a later date, but at the moment we need to concentrate on getting out of this... " She gestured at the seemingly never ending sheets of rain. "This hell hole. Where do we have to take him?"

"Fargo, North Dakota." Krycek's soft voice inserted itself into the conversation, making Scully jump. "There's a missile silo just north of there and that's where Bandersnatch's ship is waiting for him. Once he's home they'll be free to leave, but they won't go, can't until I get him home."

"All right." Scully's calm good sense seemed perfectly logical. "Do we drive, or do we fly?" Scully was addressing Mulder but her eyes were fixed on Krycek as she spoke.

"Fly, I think. Get that thing out of him as soon as possible, but first, we need to get him some clothes. He's got no jacket or shoes, and besides, " He gestured towards the tight blue denims. "He's X-rated in those."

"Not that you mind personally, Mulder?" Krycek chuckled softly and stretched, the ripple of movement that ran the length of his frame revealing an expanse of toned belly, his navel peeking shyly, and the hint of a scattering of dusky, silky curls below. Mulder, whose excitement had been beginning to subside, now found himself steel hard once more, praying that he wouldn't have to stand up and walk across the room in front of Scully, rigid and leaking as he was.

Scully must have realized something was going on, because she suddenly grinned and nodded to herself, and then arose to move over to the door.

Mulder snapped the lock on his suitcase, gathered his jacket, and turned to Krycek.

"I'll back the car as close as I can. Just hop in and we'll get going, okay?" The other man nodded, and for a second or two, the inky mist veiled his eyes, lending him an oriental appearance.

"Bandersnatch is excited. There's something going to happen soon, something involving you, Scully, but he isn't saying what."

As Dana Scully moved to climb into the car beside her partner, the human/alien hybrid named Alex Krycek stood to watch and the black light that shone from his eyes made the smile on his face almost mythic.

"We'll do it for her, Bandersnatch, it's the least we can do."

Their arrival in North Dakota was an escape from rain, but the evening was already overcast, and the sun was a fading memory in a bruised sky that tried to conceal its vast, uncaring presence with a veil of ragged clouds.

Fox Mulder gazed up at the rapidly darkening vault over his head, awaiting that first, twinkling presence as if somehow it would herald a new beginning.

Alex had completely given way, submerged in the Bandersnatch. Blackness glazed his eyes as he sat motionless, lost in his own world once they'd left the plane and picked up the rental car. He spoke only once, to Mulder, who was, of course, driving.

"It isn't time yet. We need somewhere to wait." Mulder recognized the tone from when they had been in a car together the last time they had traveled this road.

Looking down on Bandersnatch, Mulder could only nod. The other's face was as stern and inhuman as he had ever seen it. He steered for the town, stopping at a motel he half remembered from the time before, and booking two rooms, leaving Scully with her own extremely interesting thoughts.

They assembled in the double room, and Mulder called out for a pizza, which they ate without seeming to notice they were doing so.

Bandersnatch seemed disinclined to talk, his expression distant, as if he were communicating with someone, or something that was remote from them. He moved fluidly, feeding Alex's body, but his borrowed mind was apparently elsewhere.

Finally, at about 10pm, he roused himself.

"It's time. Let's go now."

The three of them made their way to the car, and this time, Alex drove, cutting the lights as he drove the car off the road and onto a dirt track. Pulling the car to a standstill 20 minutes later, he sagged back in the driver's seat.

Turning to the two agents, he paused for a minute, black roiling in his eyes as the Bandersnatch contemplated them.

"We should go. They aren't watching now, but they will come back soon enough and without me, this vessel is limited, as are you." He moved to open the door.

"What do you mean, limited, Krycek?" Scully asked the question but received no answer. Krycek and his strange passenger were already on the move.

Krycek was hurrying now; every movement was precise as he flowed through the bushes towards the bunker. The other two followed, afraid of losing him, a dark shadow against the night.

He'd clad himself in his favorite black, opting as usual for denim and a soft, roll-necked black cotton sweater over which he'd chosen a soft black jacket. With the collar turned up, all that could be seen of him was the whiteness of his forehead on the occasional time that he turned back to check their progress.

The silo loomed out of the darkness, a brooding presence that made Mulder shiver. He'd been here before, and had been hustled away before he could delve into the mystery that surrounded it.

He watched Alex Krycek open the door, and then step inside. Every bone in his body shrieked wrongness. There was something wrong here. He knew it. He didn't know what it was, but it was coming.

"Alex," he hissed, and Krycek turned to look back at him.

"Come on, we're nearly there."

Abruptly, a clattering, hissing sound came through the darkness and Alex swore faintly as the oily entity filled his eyes, turning him into an icon.

"There's a fucking Jabberwock loose. The fools have let one free in the building. Stay close behind me." He turned again, and began to make a strange crooning sound that set Scully's teeth on edge.

All of a sudden it was there, right in front of them, a vision from the pit with huge eyes, razor sharp claws, and teeth that clicked together like the bones of a hanged man. Dana Scully recalled the creature she had left locked in the bunker near Seattle, and a finger of ice ran the length of her spine, making her shudder.

Alex stepped in as the creature reached for him, knife-like nails clicking and drool sliding bright over its chin, almost iridescent in the glow from the flashlight.

"Close your eyes." He yelled, and then as the two agents did so, there was a dazzling flash, a howl that faded to a faint gurgling, and then silence.

When at last they opened their eyes, the creature was a blackened, smoking ruin, and the creature wearing Alex Krycek was grinning sardonically at them as they waited, stricken and terrified.

"Come on. There's hardly any time before the others will return and you will get away."

Exchanging worried glances, they followed the hybrid in front of them, stepping over the charred remains of the creature as they went.

Their arrival in the chamber that contained the ship was almost anticlimactic. The door was shoved open, they stepped inside, and there it was, sleek and unknowable, shocking in the gloom of the place.

Mulder gasped, and made for it, falling back reluctantly when Krycek barked out "No!"

"There's no time left. I must do what needs to be done, and then begone. You'll need to move very quickly to ensure that you return to safety. My companion, Krycek, has a blade, but you two aren't trained to it's use and it's better that you don't have false feelings of competence." The being smiled at Mulder. "I've grown fond of you, and in time you'll come to realize the things that we've done for you. Try not to feel dismay at a chance missed now. We will return to make contact with this world. You'll see us again."

Mulder shook his head. This was becoming too sci-fi even for him.

"You gonna pop in one day on the White House Lawn, and say 'take me to your leader"?" He growled.

The Bandersnatch - even he was thinking of the strange presence that way now - grinned at him unrepentantly, using Alex's face to ensure that the expression was as sensuous as it was insolent.

"Something like that, yes." The husky voice took on a tone of command he hadn't heard before. "Dana Scully, come here to me." He turned his dark eyes on the diminutive redhead, and she returned his gaze with her own level stare.

"Now what, Krycek?" She didn't move, and suddenly the alien was beside her, reaching out to hold onto her. "N... no, Krycek, don't... " There was a gasp, and the silence that followed was deafening.

"Krycek, No!" Mulder saw the man take hold of her, fold her into a tight embrace, and watched, dumbfounded as a glow suffused them both, a soft radiance that shone out from the alien to envelope his partner. There was a single, low sound, a sound that trembled somewhere on the edges of his consciousness, and which for some reason instilled in him an excited feeling of anticipation.

The glow faded, and Krycek released Scully, allowing her to stagger back the couple of paces to fall against Mulder, who steadied her.

"What did you do to her, Bandersnatch? If you've hurt her I'll... "

Krycek's words cut across the angry outpouring.

"I've restored to her that which was taken. She is deserving of no less." Mulder's attention transferred to Scully as he reassured himself that she was okay.

"What did you...?" Mulder got no further. The creature in Krycek's body stepped in, laced a hand - the left, Mulder noticed, hazily - through his hair, and pulled him in to a kiss that was hard and deep and bitter, and spoke to Mulder of regret.

Mulder was aware of a sudden warmth that bathed his limbs before he was released to fall back while Scully stood gaping at the two of them.

"All I have to give you is yours now, Fox Mulder. I leave you to Alex, who also loves you." There was a world of regret in Krycek's voice, and his face wore a curious expression. Mulder, recalling the things that he'd said to Alex that previous night, felt a sudden pang of loss for something he had never actually known.

"Must you go? I think we need you, Alex and I."

The alien had turned away now and didn't immediately respond. Then he looked back over his shoulder at Mulder.

"You had a chance last night for that which you now crave. Both Alex and I believe that it's time you began to take advantage of the fact that you are loved." The being resembled nothing more than an Egyptian God, old in wisdom, and unearthly in his beauty. He moved over the surface of the ship, and suddenly sank to his knees over a curious design etched into the otherwise smooth exterior.

"Leave it now, Fox Mulder. It's already too painful to leave this body, and this world. I must leave, and there's no way to change that. In time I may be able to return, but at this moment there are far too many things that it's my duty to do, and no time for the desires of one individual to be fulfilled."

All was still, and then suddenly Alex fell forward onto his hands, and as the two agents watched, a stream of viscous, black, oily fluid began to seep from Alex Krycek. It poured from his eyes; it oozed from his nostrils; it drooled from his mouth while he shuddered and choked. As it flowed, it gathered into a pool, and though it seemed to gleam in the light from the flashlights, it also seemed to radiate its own, inner glow.

As Krycek knelt, gasping for breath on the surface of the ship, the pool that was Alex's Bandersnatch seemed to flow slightly to one side and then, somehow, to sink down through the lines of the etched deign leaving not a trace behind.

Alex staggered to his feet and stood shivering in the gloom.

"He's gone." He said, and his voice was desolate. Mulder moved forward without even thinking, and took the other man into his arms, holding him tightly as the sobs began to escape him.

Krycek felt good in his arms, and he knew that he would never willingly let the other man go again. It had been a long time since he'd had the feeling that there was someone who needed him the way he was convinced that Alex did. He suddenly knew that he wouldn't ever let Alex get away from him again.

It seemed as though only a second or two had passed, but Krycek was pushing at him, forcing him back and causing ripples of anger to run through him as only Krycek could.

"Mulder, we have to leave. Bandersnatch said we shouldn't stay here in case they got us. There was a Jabberwock on the way in. God knows how many of them there are roaming these passages. I don't know if I'll be able to take on another without his help." Krycek had reached for Mulder's hand, and laced his fingers through Mulder's, bringing it to his lips. "Come on, baby, we have to get the redhead out of here even if we don't care for our own safety. If Bandersnatch finds that I let either of you come to harm, he'd fry me, and he will be back, I just know it."

The two men became suddenly aware of Scully, tugging at Mulder's sleeve nervously.

"Come on. He said for us to leave here quickly. I really don't like this."

Mulder smiled tightly down at her, his face full of tension.

"You heard the lady. Let's go, Krycek. You're the one with the blade." His voice was flat, but Scully could hear anger throbbing beneath the plain words, and touched his hand gently in a soft acknowledgement.

Krycek had a device in his hand of a kind that Mulder had seen before, a slim cylinder that he knew contained within it a wicked spike. He watched as Krycek satisfied himself that the mechanism worked, and then as Krycek moved towards the door, fell in behind him, nerves jangling.

The metal door had remained open, and Krycek stood there for a few seconds, listening, before gesturing them through and moving forward himself. As they stopped in the corridor, Mulder heard it, the rattling hiss coming from the passage to their left, and he very ungently shoved Scully back through the door and watches as the grey-green creature came out of the darkness, fangs and claws like so many shards of glass.

Alex let loose the same sounds that the Bandersnatch had made, a low crooning from somewhere deep in his chest. The creature paused, tilting its head to one side as Alex stepped in and raised the spike he held, thrusting it down into the spot where the animal's neck joined its shoulders. The creature shrieked, stiffened, and then crumpled. As a familiar green vapor began to bubble from the corpse of the monster, Krycek grabbed Scully's hand and jerked her forward, yelling "Run!"

After that there was no further pause. The three of them raced madly through the passageways towards the door and nothing was heard other than gasping breath and pounding feet.

As the three finally burst from the silo and out into the dank night, they felt the rumble under their feet, and Krycek yelled again, "Come on!" in anguished tones as he dragged the two of them willy nilly behind him.

Reaching the car Alex scrambled in, gunning the engine as the other two threw themselves in beside him. A figure loomed in front of them.

"Fuck," said Krycek, fervently, and put his foot down, aiming point blank for the creature and hitting it squarely as it sank beneath the vehicle with a sickening thud. Scully saw then that the creature had no face and screamed at last.

There was a bump and a lurch as the car passed over the thing that they'd struck, and Scully began to sob as the car gathered speed. Mulder put his arms around her, shushing her gently, but he too was shaking as the car plunged towards the distant road that lay beyond the rutted track on which they moved.

Trees scratched and ground against the car, and Krycek kept up a muffled litany of curses, intermingled with exhortations to the car to keep on going, and get them out of there fast.

At last the Taurus burst out onto the highway, and Alex floored the accelerator, shooting for town. Barely a minute later they felt a tremor, and Alex fought the car to a standstill as the engine suddenly died, and the lights went out.

Behind them, a glow began, faint and pulsing. The earth shook again, more determined in its ominous yawning and stretching. Scully raised her head in an effort to see what was happening, and her brow creased. As the glow grew in intensity, Mulder could see her baffled expression, her eyes tearstained, red mouth a circle that encompassed the questions that she would forever shy away from asking.

From the source of the light came a crashing rumble that spoke of destruction. The squeal and shriek of tortured metal wrote a melody that was accompanied by bangs and crashes. Suddenly there it was, Bandersnatch's ship, poised in the sky above like an exclamation point to underscore the strength of Mulder's belief in this most extreme of extreme possibilities.

"Oh, Bandersnatch." Alex's voice held such pain and loss that Mulder's attention was stolen for a second, seduced from the sight of the ship above that obscured their view of the heavens. Then as his gaze slid back, the solid, indisputable presence of the thing seemed to shrink, fall into itself, and finally to vanish with a faint pop, as though a child's balloon had just been blown up to bursting point.

Nobody spoke. The glow behind them had faded, and suddenly the engine of the Taurus stuttered, and resumed its smooth purr as the headlamps came back on. Alex started it moving and headed for the motel.

Nobody spoke.

As they pulled up to the place where they would spend the night, Scully left the car like a shot, murmuring goodnight and making for the sanctuary of her bedroom without any further attempt at communication. Mulder emerged from the back where he had been sitting with Scully, and strolled to open the door to the room that had been reserved for Alex and himself. Alex remained in the car, his head bowed as he sat, forearms resting on the steering wheel.

Mulder opened the door, clicked on the light, and stood for a second, illuminated in the pool of lamplight, hair burnished and glossy, mouth pursed as he considered. Slowly he retraced his footsteps, returning to the car to bend down and look at Krycek who still sat, a picture of dejection.

"Krycek? Alex? Are you coming? Hurry, it's cold." Alex didn't move, but merely sat huddled in his own small space and didn't respond. Mulder pulled the car door open and reached in to pass his hand over Alex's neck, stroking gently as he acknowledged the distress to seated man was feeling.

"Oh, Alex, baby, come on. Come here." The words were purely for comfort, and Mulder bent to put his arms around Alex. Awkward in the confines of the car, Mulder pulled Alex against him, slipping his arms around as much of him as he could manage.

At Mulder's urging, Alex finally climbed out of the car, and then, leaning heavily on Mulder, he stumbles into the room to stand, self-conscious and huddled. Mulder could feel a small trembling as he took Alex in his arms again and held him tight, stroking, soothing and murmuring calming words that made no sense.

The hour was late and Alex made no resistance when Mulder urged him to the bed, merely permitting himself to be divested of jacket and shoes. Reaching into his back pocket he took the ominous cylinder and laid it on the right table before seating himself on the bed. Mulder put out a hand and touched it briefly.

"His vorpal blade went snicker-snack," he murmured.

"What?" Alex looked up at him, blankly, eyes still bright with unshed tears as he struggled with the realization that he was now alone.

"Just borrowing your imagery." Mulder smiled faintly, and then kicked off his own shoes, lay down on the bed and pulled Alex into an embrace that was intended to comfort. Alex uttered a tiny, hiccuping sob, and then relaxed against Mulder's shoulder. After a brief pause, his arm stole over Mulder's chest, and the sound of Alex's breathing slowed.

They slept.

Once again Mulder awoke before the dawn to find Alex gone from the bed. This time, the other man wasn't standing by the window, and when Mulder clicked on the light he saw that the room was empty.

He leapt up, heedless of his stockinged feet, and raced to the door, flinging it wide, needing to know that Alex was still there and that he hadn't left. His sigh of relief stood out against the black of the shy, a puff of white breath in the cold air, hanging like a garland. Alex was sitting on the hood of the Taurus, his head flung back to reveal the arched curve of a throat that stood out white against the black of his clothing as he stared into the ink and glitter of the night.

Wordless, Mulder moved to stand beside him and reached to envelop Alex, reeling him in until he could touch the exposed vulnerability of his throat with anxious lips. His mouth mumbled over prickly skin, anxious to verify the reality of Alex's presence.

Slowly, Alex came back to himself, looking down instead of up as Mulder ran a delicate tongue tip over the other man's Adam's apple.

"You should be sleeping." The husky voice, warm as whisky, soft as cashmere, invaded his senses and made Mulder clutch convulsively at Alex.

"I thought you'd left me again." Mulder was quietly unhappy. He didn't know what he could do to help Alex, no matter how much he wanted to try.

"I'd come back soon enough, you know that." Alex spoke quietly, his voice small and lost in the vastness of the night. Mulder said nothing, merely waited, holding Alex tightly. After a while, Alex sighed and laid his cheek against Mulder's hair.

"Come in now?" Mulder's voice was a rustle against Alex's chest and Alex himself said nothing, merely sighed, and slipped from his perch on the car. Together they moved to the door, and at last beyond. Mulder gratefully kicked it closed, and reached to take Alex into his arms once again, this time seeking his mouth and fixing his own to it in a kiss that was part apology, and part inquiry. Slowly it gained momentum, their lips finding comfort, as they tasted each other with rapidly growing passion.

Alex, eyes closed, and chest heaving, slid questing arms around Mulder to pull him around until they stood tight against each other, belly to belly. Mulder could feel the flutter of the other man's breath as his tongue invaded the slick, warm fastness of Alex's mouth. His hand stroked the back of Alex's neck and threaded through short, silky hair to cup the back of his head, cradling it, holding it steady while he explored moist lips and recalled other times when he'd held Alex, and tasted the sweetness of his kiss.

Mulder released him finally and placed his hands at Alex's hips, stroking with his thumbs to slide under the turtle necked sweater that Alex wore, until he found flesh like hot satin beneath his eager hand. Alex, eyelids drooping, flashed him a small grin, quickly throwing off his sweater to reveal a torso that gleamed like marble in the lamplight, the small buds of his nipples a dusky rose and the hollow of his belly dimpling into his neat navel.

Mulder ran his hands the length of Alex's rib cage, bending to take a nipple between his teeth, flicking his tongue against it and listening for the answering gasp from his lover as he did so.

Alex reached down then, nimble fingers unfastening the fly of Mulder's jeans, pushing them down around his thighs so that his fingers could seize, and then knead at Mulder's taut, white buttocks. He stroked, working the muscle with hands that caressed, and pried, and sent tickling thrills rippling the length of Mulder's thighs.

Falling back to release Alex, Mulder threw off his clothes as fast as he could, grabbing at Alex as he shucked his own pants.

"Come here," He growled as he moved to press himself against Alex's skin, wanting desperately to feel him complete and eager beneath his searching lips and trembling, urgent hands.

Running his hands over slick, smooth skin, burying his mouth into the angle of Alex's neck, Mulder tasted him, and heard a groan that seemed to be ripped from deep inside his lover. He backed the pair of them up against the bed and fell, mouth still avidly sucking on Alex's tender skin as they went down. With Alex beneath him, pressing against his length, he could feel Alex thrusting against him in wicked counterpoint to his own urgent motion.

He was sure that now was the time, and that they were about to become lovers again, when he heard the sounds of distress emanating from the man in his arms, and let go, rolling away to sit up.

Alex sat too, hugging himself for a brief second that somehow gave the lie to the cold and competent killer image that he usually projected. Needy, the blood sang in Mulder's ears as he gazed hungrily at Alex. For a moment Fox was afraid to approach him, scared to disturb the aura that had surrounded him. Alex sat, apparently wrapped in a shroud of introspection and grief that muted his shine.

Mulder was going to turn away, defeated, had already turned to move around to the other bed when Alex reached a hand out to snag his wrist.

"Fox?" His name was a question breathed softly, energizing his skin like a breeze on a hot summer's day. He turned, and the cool fingers on his wrist slipped down to interlace with his own.

His breath caught in his throat as he raised his eyed from their joined hands to look at Alex's face.

Alex's eyes glowed green-gold, cut glass through which burned desire, despair and overwhelming need. Mulder dry-swallowed. His own longing suffused him as he felt himself drown in those eyes. Slowly, he raised Alex's hand up to his lips, running the tip of his tongue over the back of the knuckles before sucking the tips of Alex's fingers into his mouth.

Standing, transfixed by the wanting in Alex's eyes, Mulder could only wait. His heartbeat pounded against his ribs as he struggled to draw breath.

"Fox," said Alex again with an air of authority, and drew in his arm, reeling Mulder in along with it until he was once more seated beside him.

Alex's skin was silken smooth, cool that flashed to heat against the press of his body. Mulder took the fingers from his mouth and dragged his chin over the palm of Alex's hand, hearing the rasp as his whiskers scratched. The hand against Mulder's face smoothed around his cheek, paused briefly to caress an ear, and then curled around behind his head to ruffle the thick hair at the nape of his neck.

Mulder licked his lips and smiled, and the hand pressed him forward, drawing him down until their lips met and clung. Mouth pressed to mouth now, each molding itself into a conduit through which heat passed as Mulder melted into Alex. Tongue slid against tongue, slow and languorous becoming fierce and full of desire as each of them drank the other, gasping in breaths that filled lungs but didn't satisfy.

His arms were around Alex now. His hands roamed Alex's skin as their mouths stayed locked together, and he knew that this time he wouldn't - couldn't stop, not for anything. Alex was his, and they would be lovers. He had no choice.

He laid Alex down and began to peel the clothes from his body until at last he was naked, pale in the lamplight. Shucking his own clothes deliberately, he couldn't tear his gaze from the dark eyes of the man on the bed. Alex held his arms out to him then, and Mulder rolled to lie over him, gasping as his cock slid against the satiny feel of Alex's skin.

Mouth on mouth again, one of Alex's hands burrowed into his hair as the other found the curve of his backside and sketched it, then grasped it and molded the swelling of his buttocks as he pulled him in to lie close along the straining body.

Mulder could feel the jerky little pulses that heralded the growth of Alex's erection as it stiffened and lengthened against his own. The thought of it turned cartwheels in his belly, drawing his balls up to lie close against him as his hips flexed, driving their cocks together in a sunsparkle of sensation.

He felt Alex, moaning a little now, nipping and nibbling on his tongue. He could feel the heaving of Alex's chest as Mulder's fingers shaped around a nipple, plucking it and rolling it between finger and thumb. The groan that followed might have been from either of them. It found a resonance inside him, a fluttering that snaked through him as Alex's hand fumbled down to find and clasp their two dicks, working them together.

The world pulled in then, stretching around them like a glittering, protective bubble that insulated them from everything save each other. Mulder pulled away for a moment, studying Alex as he lay flushed and panting, lips pink and swollen from the kissing, tongue tip glistening between as he moistened them. God, he was gorgeous.

Lowering his head, Mulder licked at the side of Alex's face, scraping against his beard-stained cheek and tasting the salt from earlier tears.

He moved down by degrees, wanting to taste all of Alex, committing him to memory, uncertain whether Alex would fade from his life all over again as he had so many times in the past.

His tongue bathed Alex's neck, his shoulders, his chest, and he began to lick and suck on the small brown-pink coins of his nipples, eliciting a series of small, husky sounds from the man in his arms.

Alex gave a long sobbing sigh as Mulder slipped downwards, finding new and tender crevices to explore along the way, until at last he was level with Alex's groin, nuzzling into the damp curls that clustered around Alex's dick. The scent of him was musky and exciting. His taste was sharp and salty, and as his cock slipped between Mulder's lips to slide along his tongue, Mulder began to feel strangely disoriented, as though somehow he and Alex had become interchangeable.

There seemed to be a connection opening between the two of them, and as he sucked on Alex, he could feel the tug and pull of his own mouth drawing delicious threads of tickling pleasure up from Alex's balls, spinning it like sugar to sparkle and melt against his tongue.

Alex's eyes were wide in shock. as Mulder continued to suck, but his thought came through clearly to Mulder, a gentle stroking of fur against his inner ear.

I can feel you, Fox. He promised me I wouldn't be alone, and he didn't lie.

Mulder almost screamed. Only the sensation of utter bliss that radiated from Alex allowed him to continue. Confused, he raised his eyes to Alex, and felt rather than heard the joy that his lover was expressing to him.

You're in my mind. I'm in yours. I don't understand what's happening. He drew away, pulling off without warning, surprised to see the shine of tears on Alex's lashes.

Christ, you bastard! Don't stop. Please don't stop. Mulder suspended disbelief. Quickly he returned to his task, allowing Alex's cock to slip in and out, building tension in both of them as he did so. Soon, he could feel the ripple of sweet tingling electricity crackle along Alex's cock, and knew the man was seconds away from coming. He released Alex and climbed to his knees, stroking his own solid hardness as he spread moisture out from the eye of it. Alex's eyes widened, and then closed. He flung his head backwards, exposing his throat and spreading his knees wide apart, drawing them up to offer himself to Mulder.

Fuck, yes! Do it to me, Fox, come on.*

And Mulder centered himself, pressing home until he could feel Alex encasing him, the walls of his ass clasping him tightly while he buried himself as deep inside as he would go.

As they lay joined, waiting to regain a little control, it seemed only natural that their mouths should find each other once again, connecting, caressing. Alex filled his mind. Spikes of sexual arousal flickered by, crowning the complexity of thoughts and emotions his mind was transmitting as Mulder sank himself into Alex's body, wrapping himself in Alex's emotions.

He felt Alex surrounding him, opening him and nestling joyfully against him as they began to move together.

He was fucking. He was being fucked. He was himself and also his lover as fire and ice lit his cock and sent him plunging, tumbling and shuddering into a meltdown explosion that spat, consuming both of them and sending spasm after spasm through them until at last they slumped, drained and tingling. Limp at last, their bodies were sated, but their minds were full of wonder as they twined around each other in bliss.

Within a single second Mulder understood how Bandersnatch had transformed Alex's life from the drug-addicted, bitter man he had been. He saw through Alex's eyes how the wreckage of him had been ruthlessly shaped into a new, strong alliance between man and alien. Bandersnatch had formed him into what he was now. He had given him strength, hope, and a way to survive in a game that had always been too much for him before. Willingly, Mulder shared for the first time the taking of Samantha, his sister, and the subsequent fall out. His father's angry words, and later the beatings and petty cruelties that his mother had affected not to see.

Sifting through Alex's memories, Mulder understood at last what Alex had done, and felt, and lost. He saw himself the way that Alex saw him, and felt the flood of love for him answered.

I've loved you since that day I stood and looked at you, and wanted you to shake my hand.

I know.

The regret poured from Mulder even as he sensed the forgiveness. Alex snuggled in against the heat of Mulder's body and lay, fully opened to Mulder's probing thoughts. Mulder, faced by an X-file, as ever was determined to drain it to the dregs, even if the X-file were his lover. As Alex lay, permitting him to see who he was, Mulder could feel his body tighten, as something deep at the heart of him screamed that he was too close, too near to this other man, this alien.

Pulling away, he curled himself into a small, frightened space. Reassurance followed him. The flood of loving acceptance that stole into his heart from Alex rocked him to the core. He felt his body melt as his mind clung to the feeling of belonging he'd found. For the first time in his existence, Fox Mulder felt content.

He moved until he could touch Alex's lips with his own, feeling again the gutshot rush that hit him as the duality of physical sensation and emotional sharing kicked in. Alex opened his lips to receive his kiss, and the sensuality began to resonate between the two once more. It was then that he realized that he and Alex were together and would never again be separate.

As far as he was concerned, and he knew he could speak for Alex too, the world would be a better place for it.

The End

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