Guilt Edged Series

Fandom: The X-Files

Category/Rated: NC17, Slash. Het, Rape

Year/Length: ~69,350 words

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek, Krycek/Covarrubias, Krycek/Spender Jr, Krycek/OFC

Spoilers: Duane Barry, Tunguska

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, only having fun.

Warning: This is a rape story and you should not read it if this will offend you.

Summary: This story is my response to a challenge. Why does Krycek behave as he does at Tunguska. Why did he not run away when Mulder went under the wire? It's not for the faint hearted. No schmoop here.

Author's Notes:

Beta: Beta by Orithain, Rowanne and Frankie. Thank you, ladies.

Oh, the smell of him! Fox Mulder could not think straight. He was here, staking out a warehouse, expecting any moment that the low-life inside would come out with his guns blazing, and all he could think about was the smell of the man lying next to him.

He smelled faintly of some spicy cologne with undertones of spearmint chewing gum and a hint of tobacco. There was also the slight muskiness of the man himself.... Mulder's head swam and he took a couple of deep breaths, trying hard to get back on track. Alex Krycek, the man in question leaned his head towards Mulder, and whispered in his ear, making Mulder jump out of his skin.

"I think I saw something moving over that way." The junior agent gestured briefly with his head in the direction of the side of the building. "Do you want me to call for backup?"

Mulder rolled his eyes to heaven. "What, and have them all screeching up with their sirens wailing? No thank you! I've put in altogether too much time and energy to have it all go to hell now. We can do it if we just hang tough." He turned his head towards Alex, and once more caught a whiff of the intoxicating smell that had been preoccupying him. The temptation to roll over and kiss his partner was immense. Mulder turned away again abruptly. Krycek looked at him quizzically, but Mulder ignored him, once again training the field glasses onto the area where Krycek had reported movement.

They had arrived here at this stakeout as a result of several weeks sifting through strings of evidence. Krycek was a good, thorough and methodical researcher, and had pursued the tiniest of leads, uncovering the path that had led to this current situation. His attention to detail had impressed Mulder, who at first had written off the youngster as a lightweight who would hold him back. Mulder missed Scully, who was currently banished to Quantico, where she was teaching students there about the esoteric effects of bullets on flesh. He wanted the X-Files back. It nagged at his consciousness like a broken tooth. He was however beginning to enjoy Krycek as a partner, appreciating the young man's warped sense of humor. Every so often, Krycek would come out with a dry witticism that was all the funnier for the fact that he did not seem to care whether or not people got the joke. So, Mulder was not too unhappy about having Alex along for the ride. He wondered if he could possibly keep both Krycek and Scully. He was also beginning to wonder more and more what it would be like to rip off the young man's hideous suit, rumple his hideous hairstyle and jump his bones.

With a sigh, he peered through the glasses into the gloom, trying hard to distinguish any movement within the shadows. The flickering of the shadows from the trees around the perimeter of the lot seriously interfered with his ability to see what was happening. Krycek suddenly nudged him again and with a small movement of his finger, indicated a shadow, darker than the rest, slowly creeping along the side wall.

The two of them were lying on a garage rooftop, some yards away from the warehouse, and there was not a lot of space free from the junk that had been piled high on it. This was all to the good as it made their vantagepoint less conspicuous, but it meant that Alex was far too close for Mulder's comfort. Mulder leaned to whisper to Krycek, feeling the other man's warmth as they lay along side each other on their bellies.

"It looks as if their contact is on his way. Let him get in before we move." Krycek nodded in acquiescence and exhaled sharply through his teeth. Mulder put his hand up to reassure him.

"Let me go first. We should be able to take them both without too much effort as long as we don't blow it on the way in. All you need to do is follow my lead. If you cover me we'll be fine."

Again Krycek nodded, the hand on his shoulder gave him a final pat before being withdrawn once more. The shadow silently worked its way around to the front of the building as they observed it, and finally, with a minimum of fuss, slipped into the building through the partially open door.

Mulder put a restraining hand on his partner's arm, and together they waited for several minutes before quietly getting to their feet and dropping to the ground behind the garage. Mulder, dressed like his partner in black, adjusted his kevlar vest and put the field glasses down on the concrete beside the garage they had been hiding on. He surveyed Alex as he climbed noiselessly down from the roof, admiring his powerful shoulders and checking out the tight buttocks and the strong legs in their well fitting black jeans. He really needed to concentrate on the job in hand. He had no idea what Alex did in his free time but had yet to see any signs that he returned Mulder's interest in him. Alex jumped the last couple of feet from the top of the wall, staggering a little as he landed, and Mulder automatically put out a steadying hand. The other man was quick to recover, gently punching Mulder in the shoulder as he nodded his thanks. Together, they began to creep around to the doorway into which they had seen their prey vanish.

As the two men reached the entrance, they could hear low voices from within the building itself. Straining to hear what was being said, Mulder cautiously slid through the doorway, with Krycek on his heels. The voices were louder now, and they made their way on cat-like feet towards the origin of the sounds. As they came to the end of the short corridor, Mulder could see that there were at least two men in the warehouse, and on the floor there was a long shape. He gestured to Krycek who began to work his way around the stacked boxes to come at them from the opposite side. The shape on the floor moved, and Mulder heard a moan. This was definitely the place! They had found the kidnap victim, and it was not too late...yet.

He inspected his watch, giving Alex the agreed time to get into position. Peering through the gloom and debris, he could not make out where the other agent had gone but knew he must be somewhere on the opposite side of the warehouse. As his watch finally reached the appointed time, Mulder cocked his gun and stepped forward into the flickering circle of light.

"Freeze! FBI!" The two men whirled as one to face him, and he finally made out Krycek in the gloom behind them, moving in steadily to back him up. The men he had surprised were wearing stocking masks, and as Mulder gestured with his gun, they raised their hands. It came as a complete surprise to him when something struck him on the back of the head, and his lights went out.

"Mulder!" He heard the voice down a very long tunnel. "Mulder, come on man!"

His head hurt, and he could smell burning. He wasn't sure where he was, but he wouldn't be coming back here for his holiday, that was certain. He tried opening his eyes, but there seemed to be a lot of smoke all of a sudden, and it stung his eyes, making them smart.

"Mulder! Come on, I need you to help me." This time the voice got through. He opened his eyes and tried to roll over into a sitting position. He couldn't. Something was stopping him. He was aware of a heavy weight across his hips. Lifting his head he peered around, looking for Alex. The other man was frantically lifting pieces of debris, trying to free up whatever had dropped on him. A red glow indicated that there was fire somewhere close by, and he suddenly became aware of the danger he was in.

Alex had seen he was conscious and quickly made his way over to him.

"Mulder, this building is going to be a mass of flames in about two minutes time. I've got to get you out of here. Help me if you can." He positioned himself beside the beam that lay across Mulder's back and grunted out, "When I give the word, give it everything you've got. It's your only chance."

As Alex gave the signal, Mulder heaved himself upwards, and as Alex lifted, the beam shifted a tiny bit. Scrambling forward, Mulder managed to get out of the way as the whole lot dropped out of Alex's hands and crashed back down where Mulder's back had been scant seconds before.

"Come on!" Alex was shoving him madly as he stumbled towards the exit. "We're gonna fry if you don't hurry!"

Mulder, who did not like fire at the best of times, choked back the feeling of sickness as he pushed for the doorway. Alex grabbed him, and with his arm supporting him, the two of them staggered out into the night. As they reached the perimeter, Mulder sank to the ground and Alex threw himself on his knees next to him.

"Where are they?" Mulder croaked as he lay on the cement. Reaction was setting in, and his legs were feeling strangely numb. Behind them, there was a crash, and then a roar as the roof of the warehouse collapsed, and the flames burst free to complete their work of destruction.

Alex gestured to the fence beside him, "I got the girl out first, then came back for you." Mulder could make out the still blanketed figure now. It was squirming, and he could hear soft grunts.

"What about the low-life scum who abducted her?" Mulder could feel reality surging and fading as he spoke, but he had to know.

"Umm. They're dead. I shot them." Krycek looked sheepish as he confessed. "There really wasn't time to do anything else. The other man came up behind you. He must have followed us in, and when I saw him cold cock you, I figured it was time to do something fast. I hit them, but the guy behind you had some kind of flare gun, and he fired the whole building. I don't think my shots actually killed them, but they are still in there, so my guess is, they're dead..."

Mulder heard the confession, but as he did so, his attention fluttered and faded. He lost consciousness. He did not hear Alex calling for assistance, relaying that there was an agent down. He was not awake to see the ambulance arrive and take the rescued hostage and Mulder himself off to the hospital. The darkness into which he fell was warm and painless. Mulder sank and was lost.

Several weeks had gone by since the ill-fated stakeout that had seen Mulder and Krycek rescuing the missing heiress. Mulder had needed extensive surgery to his back and was now recuperating. He hated physical therapy. Working his weakened legs following the surgery was painful and reminded him that he had been fit a few short weeks before. He wanted to go running and resented the debilitated state in which he found himself. Scully had been several times to visit him while he was still in the hospital, but Mulder had not seen her since his discharge earlier on in the week. Of Alex, he had seen nothing at all, and he wondered where his new partner had gone. There was a knock on his door, and he rolled to his feet from where he had been lying, took the weights off his ankles and limped to check who was there.

He opened the door on Alex, who was standing holding a carrier bag, looking hopeful.

"Hi! I heard you were home at last. I just dropped by to see how you were feeling and to bring you this." Alex thrust the bag at Mulder, who took it reflexively.

"Ummm..thanks! Won't you come in? I was just doing my torture.... I mean my physical therapy exercises. I'd be really glad of an opportunity to stop." He stood aside to allow the younger man to enter the apartment. Alex was dressed casually for once, wearing slacks and a white turtle neck sweater under a dark V-neck. Mulder surveyed him, mentally shuddering. He wished he could dress his junior partner. He would make him look so good. He thought back to the night of the stakeout. Alex had been in jeans and a plain dark sweater that night and had looked very good. Jeans suited him. The cut showed off his tight ass and long legs. Mulder wondered how he could broach the subject of his dress sense to him without hurting his feelings.

He opened his gift, which proved to be a bottle of rum and a bottle of coke, and went into the kitchen looking for glasses and ice. When he came back, Krycek was sitting on the couch, reading through the physical therapy program he had been given on his discharge from the hospital Handing Krycek a glass, and taking a swig of his own drink, he sat down opposite his visitor.

"I never had the chance to say thank you for saving my life, Krycek. Thanks. I probably would have fried if it hadn't been for you." Mulder raised his glass to Alex, who actually blushed at his words.

"Listen, Mulder, it was nothing. I did what you would have done for me, that's all." He shifted uneasily in his seat, obviously feeling uncomfortable about the topic. "The forensics team confirmed that the kidnappers died in the fire. They are still investigating the reason why the whole warehouse went up in flames so quickly. There's some mystery there, but it's out of my hands now until their investigation is completed." Alex leaned forward, speaking earnestly, and his expression was intense.

"Have they given you anything that might lead you to believe they were holding her for passing on to a UFO?" Mulder frowned. Alex looked completely baffled at his question. "Do you think she's an alien abductee, Mulder? Those perps we saw in the warehouse were as human as you or I. I didn't see any signs of extra-terrestrial involvement while I was in the place. What makes you think...." He tailed off as Mulder rose from his seat to limp up and down in an agitated manner.

"Krycek, listen to me, the place she was being held was leaked to me by my source, the only source I have ever trusted. Furthermore the kidnappers names were on a document that I found where he told me it would be. Their names were among those included on a list of infiltrators and saboteurs who are colluding with a plot to supply subjects for experimentation." Mulder repeatedly jabbed his finger at Krycek as he spoke, and the other man sat back, well out of Mulder's way as he listened to him expound.

"Mulder, sometimes the simplest explanation is the real one, you know? What did Freud say? Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar! Well, sometimes, a kidnapping is just a ransom demand." Krycek smiled up at the pacing man. Mulder stopped short and looked at his visitor.

"Do you know, Krycek, that's probably the dumbest thing you've ever said to me?" Alex's grin widened, and he took a pull at his drink

"Hey, I come over to cheer you up, and all I get is abuse. Aliens aren't to blame for the kidnapping of that girl, real, flesh and blood type men are. I saw them, none of them were little or green." He put down his empty glass and leaned back into the couch, stretching out his long legs in front of him and hooking his thumbs into his pockets as he did so. Mulder was torn between getting into an argument with Alex about his views on alien abduction, or attempting to get him to re-vamp his wardrobe. He surveyed the elegant lines of the other man's body and put aside thoughts of alien invasion, focusing instead on trying to determine whether or not he would welcome Mulder's advances.

Krycek's eager-puppy expression faltered under the close scrutiny from his partner.

"What?" He was still smiling, but a little uncertainly. "Do I have spinach on my teeth? Is my zipper undone? What?" He shifted uneasily, and Mulder, feeling slightly foolish, turned away, collecting his glass for a refill.

"Nothing, Krycek! I was just wondering if you'd want to watch a movie or something." and by the way, I want to tear off your clothes and dress you in something that clings to your butt Alex took the offered drink, and the grin returned to his features.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Did you want me to go over your exercises with you? I know they can be really daunting when you have to do them alone. Here, come on!" He flung himself to the floor and began to go through the program of leg raises and back strengthening exercises Mulder had been given at the hospital. After a minute or two of watching him, Mulder shrugged his shoulders and joined him on the floor.

"I work out five times a week. I'm trying to get my body fat ratio down, it's a little high, but hey, I like to eat too." Krycek prattled on, seemingly unconscious of the way that Mulder was looking at him. Mulder, who now more than ever wanted to see his partner in well fitting clothes, or even better, no clothes at all, was trying to think of a way to tell him he was going to spend the night.

"Better get the aerobic content of your exercise program up a little." Mulder volunteered. Shit! Where did that come from? What a dumb thing to say! "I mean, You look fine to me...why do you think you have too much fat?"

"No, Mulder, you misunderstand me. If I'm going to go in for competitions as a body builder, I need to get the body fat percentage down. I'm not implying that I'm overweight or anything." Krycek beamed at Mulder and continued to do the crunches that were supposed to be strengthening up Mulder's abdominals.

"Krycek, are you seriously telling me that you're a competition body builder? You don't look to have the bulk for it. Of course I've only seen you in your suits and stuff, and they're loose fitting, but I'd have said you were far too slim." Bingo! Mulder gazed at Krycek and now had a legitimate reason for doing so. The shapeless clothes he was dressed in didn't give much of a clue to what kind of body Alex might have. Mulder hoped he was going too be able to check him out in more depth. As he spoke, Alex, whose grin had widened considerably during this speech, sat up and removed his sweater in one fluid movement.

He was very nicely built, but to Mulder's untutored eye, not a muscle bound super-stud. Mulder took a deep breath and put out his hand to stroke Krycek's chest. There was a moment's stunned surprise, and then Alex jerked backwards, revulsion on his face.

"What the fuck are you doing, Mulder? Are you coming on to me?" Alex was putting on his sweater as he spoke. His voice was cold.

"Umm...I thought..." Mulder wasn't quite sure what to say. It seemed as if he had made a mistake. Alex hadn't been egging him on with his little display after all. How wrong could he be? He thought for a minute, maybe things weren't totally unsalvageable.

"Krycek, I don't quite know how to phrase things. We're just beginning to get to know each other. I figure we could go one of two ways. We can have a purely business relationship, or we can think about, you know, maybe doing stuff together. I mean, not for sure, but we could leave the possibility open since you don't appear to be involved with anyone right about now, you know what I mean?" Mulder, aware that he was babbling, got to his knees preparing to stand up. Alex looked at him, his expression unreadable.

"No, I don't think I understood the last sentence at all...it was too complicated." Listening to Alex, Mulder was not sure at this point whether he was being made fun of, but he continued.

"I'm saying that I was tempted to come on to you a little bit." He attempted a smile but found that smiling was next to impossible with his dry mouth. He gave up, contenting himself with a sickly grimace.

"A little bit tempted, or a little bit come on?" Krycek was beginning to worry him. His husky voice was flat, and Mulder, so good at reading the body language of others, could get no sense of where he stood from Alex.

"A lot tempted to come on a little bit." The words sounded lame, even to him, but he was locked into this conversation now and didn't know how to get out of it.

"OK, I'm with you." Krycek appeared to be giving it some thought.

"But if there's no point, I'll forget it. Give up. On the other hand if there is a point, I'll continue to be tolerant and charming and liberal and shit, in my own special, casual way." Mulder stood and faced Krycek. Again he tried a smile, with a little more success this time. He wished he could get an inkling of what the other man was thinking about.

"So, is there a point or...." Mulder flinched backwards as the punch caught him and knocked him sideways. He tripped over the coffee table, measuring his length on the floor. Alex stood, hair tousled, indignation showing in every line of his posture.

"How dare you? I came over to try and cheer you up, and you start to feel me up as if I was some kind of...of slut! You're sick, Mulder, totally sick. I don't need it, and I don't need you!"

He turned on his heel and left the apartment. Mulder lay looking after him, all the things he had intended to say still bubbling on his lips.

"Shit!" He had blown it. He had been clumsy, and now the chance was lost. He wouldn't get the opportunity again to win Alex over. Feeling his tender jaw, he rolled over and climbed laboriously to his feet. Picking up the leg weights, he prepared to resume his interrupted exercises.

Two weeks later, Mulder was doing lengths in the large pool at Quantico, his powerful shoulders and arms churning the water, his legs, much stronger now, propelling him along the pool. Suddenly the door opened, and a familiar figure came rushing in carrying a file.

"Agent Mulder!" The familiar voice broke through Mulder's concentration, and he smoothly worked his way to the ladder, pulling himself up to emerge beside the waiting junior agent. Krycek eyed him uneasily but then began telling him about the situation that he had been ordered to bring to him. The dice were tumbling now, and the pieces were all falling into place. The events that would transpire from this moment would ensure that Mulder and Krycek would never again be able to co-exist peacefully.

Time passed by. Krycek became a memory for Mulder. He occasionally popped into Mulder's thoughts as a memory of something he had wanted and lost. Mulder learned not to think of him.

The sound of trucks pulling in broke into his reverie. There was suddenly a large number of people yelling, guns firing and general disorder confusing the quiet night. Rapidly, the group they had ambushed was rounded up and taken away. Mulder noticed another truck and ran to intercept it, followed by Scully who was apparently having the time of her life.

"Get out of the truck." The truck came to a standstill. Eventually the door opened, and a shadowy figure emerged. Mulder knew instantly who it was, purely from the smell of him. He was suddenly back on a garage rooftop, staking out a warehouse, with this man by his side. The man crouched at his feet was trying to remain unrecognizable, his head lowered, hat pulled firmly down over his face. He needn't have bothered. Mulder's stomach lurched, and he felt the waves of irrational anger rising as he gazed at the apparently submissive Krycek. He could smell that scent, the one he had first been drawn to. It was not just cologne, though there were spicy traces of that. He detected a hint of tobacco, a touch of mint, and the musky, clean animal smell of the man himself, all mixed in. It made him reel momentarily, while lust, peeled, diced and recycled as fury, surged through him.

"Krycek!" He raised his fist....

They had caught a plane, then another. Mulder and Krycek, jaunting across continents together, Mulder belligerent, Krycek challenging from time to time, but somehow only paying lip service to the struggle between the two of them. Mulder looked at his nemesis, taking in the apparent exhaustion that flowed from him in waves. Wherever his life had taken this man, the journey had not been easy or pleasant. He was sleeping now, crammed between Mulder and the window, head lolling back and mouth open, green eyes veiled by translucent lids, thickly fringed with spiky lashes. Mulder saw new gauntness in his face. The hair was cropped brutally short and revealed the pleasing lines of the other man's head, the high cheekbones, the shapely skull and the determined, mutinous jawline. He was clad in utilitarian denim, jeans worn and frayed in places, clinging to his thighs, shirt open at the neck, revealing his bared throat as he slept. His leather jacket was rolled up and stowed in the overhead compartment, but Mulder added it mentally to the inventory along with the high-tops of plain black that he wore on his feet. Krycek's body had filled out a little in the time since he and Mulder had been partners. There was new depth to his chest and shoulders, and nothing left of the child-like young man Mulder had known. This Alex had lines of strain on his face, new creases at the corner of his eyes, and there were purpling bruises at cheek and chin, bruises that Mulder had put there. Mulder knew that there would be others too, although those were hidden under the denim. Inhaling the scent of him, Mulder felt a fresh wave of need overtake him. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the tight fullness in his groin, and lay back himself, trying to catch a little sleep.

Sleep, when it came, was not restful. In his dream he pursued Krycek through trees and mud, never quite catching him, wanting him, while the other man occasionally turned to mock him, constantly eluding him by a hairsbreadth. The dream Mulder called for Alex, and the other man's response was to wait, then turn and spit as Mulder drew close. Standing stunned, spittle running down his cheek, Mulder knew a white blaze of fury. His dream deteriorated into a muddle of blows, screams and sobs of anguish as he caught his elusive tormentor and beat him, beat him bloody, smashed him senseless, drove first his fists, and then his penis into him again and again, the one release giving way seamlessly to the other. The hated face cleansed of its mocking expression by naked violence, he bit, kissed and bit again, sobbing as he tore at Krycek, who remained aloof, face calm and bloodied throughout.

When he came, thrusting mindlessly into a hot, dark, dream-Krycek that gazed past him like an alabaster saint and did not blame him, he woke up. Krycek, whose head had somehow come to rest on his shoulder, was in the act of struggling towards wakefulness. Mulder had called his name, and he was returning from his own dark corridor of dreamland to face his abuser. Mulder angrily shoved his captive's head off him, feeling with growing irritation the sticky interior of his jeans, the memory of his orgasm shaming him. He knew that he had somehow been marked by Krycek but didn't understand how. Refusing to meet Krycek's eyes, he stumbled off to the safety and solitude of the toilet cubicle, there to clean himself up as much as he could, bury his face in his hands, and sob.

They had arrived at Frankfurt airport in the early afternoon of a wintry day. They were both tired and enervated. Krycek was edgy and sarcastic, while Mulder glowered sullenly in an almost classic role reversal from their usual interactions. Krycek prowled along in front of Mulder, his loose, easy gait and unconscious sensuality affecting Mulder like so many hornets crawling on his skin. Krycek, aware in some way that he held the upper hand, continually needled Mulder, who reacted with very rewarding snarls and hisses.

Their onward flight into Russia was due to leave early the following day, and they were both jet-lagged and irritable. Leaving the airport with the keys to a rental car in his hand, Mulder yanked Krycek along by his handcuffs, taking savage pleasure in the bruising of the other man's wrists as he did so. When Krycek maliciously inquired whether he'd like to put a collar and leash on him, Mulder merely growled and yanked all the harder.

They checked into a small hotel on the edge of Frankfurt and made their way to the room that had been allocated to them. Mulder called Scully, who was overtly calm on the phone but who sent vibes of serious anxiety down the line, making Mulder's already queasy stomach roil. He had released the cuff from his own hand, passing it around the heating pipes that ran along the skirting board to feed the radiator and snapping it onto Krycek's other hand. The man himself lay patiently waiting for whatever might next befall him.

"Mulder, I'd like something to eat and drink please. A visit to the bathroom might be nice too." Mulder apparently didn't hear him and continued to sit on the bed, staring vacantly at his hands. "Mulder, I'm talking to you." Mulder turned towards Krycek very slowly, his face a mask, his eyes glittering strangely. Alex suddenly realized that there was something very wrong, and scooted up to sit with his back to the wall, as far into the corner of the room as he could go with the handcuffs on him.

"OK, Mulder, that's OK. You can go back to sleep, I'm fine, really I am." A smile distorted Mulder's features. It was not a pleasant smile. Krycek swallowed nervously. Mulder leaned forward to grab the other man's short hair on the top of his head. Yanking his head up by the hair, he slowly brought his face down to kiss Krycek.

Krycek winced and attempted to avoid the kiss, shaking his head and turning his face away. Mulder, who had his fingers buried in the man's hair, yanked hard, pulling the captive's face towards him and causing him to gasp. There was nowhere to go. The kiss landed, hard and brutal, on Alex's mouth. Mulder had his hands on Krycek's head, his thumbs digging into Krycek's jaw painfully, forcing his mouth open. Krycek shook his head again, trying to shake Mulder free, but could not dislodge his attacker. He finally gave in, his head trapped in Mulder's hands, pressed tight against the wall, Mulder's tongue pushed into his mouth, darting everywhere, and waited patiently for it to end.

Mulder was panting. His kiss gave him a taste of the man he had craved for so long, and as he finally drew away, just one kind word would have ended things right there and then. Mulder would have been recalled to reason and left Alex be, merely adding fuel to the guilt he already carried everywhere. Alex however, did not know or did not care. As Mulder pulled back, releasing his jaw, and freeing his mouth at last, Alex spat, hard and accurately, the moisture hitting Mulder on the cheek, mirroring his dream. Then he spoke:

"You fucking fairy."

It seemed for a moment as if the room darkened. The wetness on Mulder's cheek seared like acid, and the words echoed like cannon shots, reverberating inside Mulder's mind, blasting through reason, laying bare the savage he carried within him.

Krycek suddenly realized that he had miscalculated. He turned pale and huddled closer to the wall, unable to move because of the chain that held him to the sturdy steel pipes. Mulder, who, without analyzing it, knew that he had at last frightened the man on the floor, noted his slight flinch. Deliberately, he raised his hand, slapping Krycek's face. The other man glared back at him, eyes as hard as glass, and Mulder slapped him again. His skull rocked back and smacked the wall, and he grunted giving that arrogant, quick sideways toss of the head that was purely Krycek. This assertion of his individuality in the face of all that Mulder was submitting him to was what finally tipped Mulder over the edge, out of reason and into bare, blind, vicious insanity. Grabbing the chained man by the throat, Mulder began to choke him. Green eyes glazed, and eyelids fluttered and fell, as Mulder crouched over his victim. As Alex lost consciousness, Mulder caught his head again and kissed him, biting his lips, invading his mouth with thrusting tongue, allowing the taste of Krycek to flow through him like strong drink.

Laying him down on the floor, he unlocked the cuffs, refastening them so that Krycek now lay with his arms stretched above his head, the cuffs looped around the solid angle-iron of the heavy bed frame. His fingers trembling now, he began to unfasten Krycek's shirt, then the jeans, yanking them down his legs. Krycek now lay naked but for his shirt, which was open and folded back to reveal the strong lines of his torso, nipples rosy in the lamplight, a light dusting of freckles across his chest and shoulders, and slabs of muscle covered with smooth white skin. Beneath the indentation of his navel a scattering of soft, dark hairs thickened up as they began to cluster around his genitals. His penis lay quietly, wrapped in its foreskin, and beneath it lay the two balls, nestling like eggs in a nest. Mulder felt his own penis lurch. His breath was harsh and his head swam. Uttering a groan, he threw himself down to bury his face in Krycek's groin, licking and biting, inhaling the scent of the man, the scent that had obsessed him for all this time.

He stood up and methodically stripped himself, carefully watching Krycek for any signs of returning consciousness. As he threw his shirt into a corner, the other man gave a moan, and his head turned slightly, rolling on the floor. Mulder's whole body thrilled, and he quickly lay down beside his captive, throwing a leg across his hips, and pressing himself into Krycek along his entire length, feeling the pressure of silky skin on his penis which was now hard, tight and straining. He bent his head to lick at a nipple, and then looked up to see Krycek watching, his teeth bared in an almost-smile. He made that head movement again, and now Mulder was mad. He bit the nipple he had been tonguing, surprising a short yelp out of Alex. He laughed sharply at that, and Alex moaned again.

"What's the matter Krycek? I sometimes wonder if you're real or if you're only my imagination and someone's fucking with my head. You could have had..." Mulder's voice faltered, and he choked, then bent to kiss Krycek's throat again, sucking and biting, leaving a trail of love-bites that blazed red against the whiteness of his skin. His hand had been working roughly at Krycek's cock, and as he pulled and tugged at it, it began to stir, thickening in Mulder's hand, the tip growing and emerging from the foreskin. Mulder bent his head down to study it, and Alex closed his eyes again, saying nothing.

"Hmmm..Not Jewish I see! Maybe we should change that. Let me see, where's that knife I took off you yesterday?" Alex's eyes flew open, and the flash of horror, quickly masked rewarded Mulder, that he read in the green eyes. He laughed without humor, recognizing that he was close to breaking through the other man's icy calm. He bent to chew on a nipple, a reddened spot appearing when he withdrew his mouth. Alex made a sound that was almost, but not quite, a cry for help. Turning his head Mulder dropped his mouth to Alex's groin, and as Alex, who was now beginning to panic, writhed and kicked, his tormenter closed his lips around the erect cock, engulfing it in the heat of his mouth and sucking it deep into his throat. Alex bucked his hips once in an attempt to dislodge Mulder, but the other agent clamped teeth harshly around the base of Alex's cock, and he subsided. His breath was ragged. He closed his eyes, trying to think of nothing, while his traitor cock thrilled and leapt and throbbed and finally spat thick white juices into Mulder's moist, wet mouth. Alex began to curse steadily in a low monotone.

Mulder had withdrawn from Alex's cock after he had come, and was now fumbling for the knife he had removed from Alex the previous day. Examining it minutely, he tested the blade, easily slicing a button from Alex's shirt. He then proceeded to trail the point down from Alex's throat to his nipple, pausing to prick delicately at it, watching the dark blood well up around the small cut. The knife wandered over to his armpit, where once again the point drew blood. Mulder bent to taste it, and Alex trembled.

"You taste good, Krycek, want some?" He bent to the abused nipple, sucking and then covering Alex's mouth with his own, allowing blood to pass from his tongue to Krycek's, deepening the kiss, while pressing the knife into Krycek's armpit. The kiss was hard, but Mulder felt the tiniest response from his prisoner. He pulled back and examined Krycek with great interest, trying to determine what had just happened. Alex tasted his own blood and semen and knew he had to do something if he was going to get out of this situation alive.

"Mulder!" His voice when it came startled Mulder. "Mulder, do you want to deal?" Alex was desperate, his calm gone, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving. There was blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and the purple bruises that stained his skin made him look very vulnerable.

Mulder stared down at the man below him, trying to decide what he might mean. "Krycek, I'd be prepared to believe that you don't have a single chip to bargain with at this point." The words were vicious, and the smile that accompanied them was feral.

"You're wrong, Mulder." The husky voice was strained, fraying at the edges, as if Krycek had spent the night out on the tiles, as if he had smoked one cigarette too many. Mulder's cock leapt, and he returned his hand to the other man's, squeezing and pinching it, then sneaking it down to fondle his balls, before creeping down between his legs, to seek out his anus, circling around it, then plunging a finger into it. There was a gasp, then Krycek spoke quickly, words tumbling out over each other.

"Mulder, what if I let you do this? What if I gave you what you want?" His eyes were desperate.

"You know what, Krycek? I don't see how you could possibly stop me from taking it." Mulder accented his message with the point of Krycek's knife, tracing a line down the flat stomach, small pinpoints of blood springing up to show its path as it descended towards his crotch.

"M-Mulder, what if I responded, didn't fight? What if I made love to you instead?" Mulder thought for a minute.

"What would you want from me, Krycek?" His eyes narrowed. He wanted this, God, how he wanted it, but he couldn't see how it was possible. He had not forgotten that this man under his knife was a liar, a traitor, and a murderer with no conscience. He reflected that they were now two of a kind and that if the tables ever turned, he would be in great trouble. He wanted Krycek. His head reeled, imagining Krycek kissing him back, imagining the clever mouth tracing over his chest, slipping down to suck on his aching erection.

"Let me go. I just want you to let me go. I'll do whatever you want if you promise to turn me loose after you're done." The panic in Krycek's voice seemed genuine. He had broken out in a sweat, and his skin shone white against the livid bruises Mulder had inflicted. Mulder tilted his head, considering.

"Krycek, I need you with me for this. You speak Russian, and I don't. I need you to get to where we're going, but I'll promise you this. You will stay with me for the next 48 hours. At the end of that time I will stand back and let you walk away. If that's a deal, then we're in business. If not, then tough, you lose, and I'll take you back to Skinner and then justice."

Wordlessly Krycek nodded, then closed his eyes and sank back onto the floor. Mulder lay along him, gazing at him, drinking in the sight of this man he had wanted for years, and whom he had come very close to killing minutes earlier. After a minute, Alex appeared to make up his mind. Opening his eyes, he fixed Mulder with a penetrating gaze.

"It can't be done," he said, flatly. "You wouldn't keep your end of the bargain."

"Don't judge everyone by your own standards, Krycek!" Mulder felt his anger rising again. Krycek sneered, and the red haze returned to obscure Mulder's vision once more.

Mulder gripped Krycek by the throat again. The captive flinched, and then cried out in despair as his head was forced back against the floor. Mulder moved his head down and carefully placed his lips onto Krycek's once more. Krycek was making a soft sound in the back of his throat, as he attempted to keep his airway open. He struggled as he felt consciousness beginning to fade, and Mulder increased the pressure, until finally, Alex blacked out once more. Checking around the room for something he could use as lubrication, he could find nothing other than his own saliva. He shrugged. It would be just one more bruise for Krycek. Hardly noticeable amongst all the others he had.

Pulling Krycek's legs upwards and forcing them apart, Mulder wet the tip of his penis, and prepared to push it home. Alex lay with his head lolling loosely to one side. His mouth was open, and blood ran from the corner, drooling down to run onto the floor. His chest was a mass of cuts and contusions, and his belly bore the marks of punches as well as the knife tracks he had made previously. He had old scars too, a hole, now healed, marked where a bullet had hit his shoulder. Another ragged white line crossed his belly from just under his heart down to his groin. His eyelids, dark lashes fringing them, fluttered as he began to regain consciousness. Mulder pushed his cock home into Alex, feeling the heat of him as he got inside, feeling the tight sphincter muscle suddenly give way as warm, wet blood allowed him to slide right to the hilt inside him.

Mulder paused, trembling, for a moment. He felt the sparkling, pulsing tingle begin in his balls and knew that it would not take more than a minute to carry him over the edge and into ecstasy.

He waited, trying not to move, trying to let his excitement subside just a little. Alex moaned, and Mulder felt his belly quicken. Losing control, he plunged into Alex, and after a half a dozen thrusts, fell forward, loose-lipped and helpless, as the biggest orgasm he had ever had robbed him of breath, muscle tone and coherent thought.

Lying on top of Alex, he panted, and slowly became aware that the other man had opened his eyes. Mulder lifted his head for a moment and gazed into those eyes. The pupils now were so dark that there was no trace of color left in the surrounding iris. He appeared to be in shock, and his heart was pounding. His skin had a yellowish cast, with violet circles beneath his eyes. Mulder felt an unpleasant thrill swoop through the pit of his stomach. What had he done? What could he do now? Where would he be able to hide from his own accusing thoughts?

Mulder withdrew himself and fumbled with toilet paper, cleaning himself and Alex as best he could, and watched as Alex's eyes rolled upwards in his head.

Mulder lay looking at him for a few minutes more, and then wearily got to his feet, all passion spent. He could not imagine what had possessed him for the past hour or so. He had to get out of that room. Grabbing his clothes, he dressed quickly and hurled himself through the door and into the corridor.

An hour later when Mulder returned, Alex had recovered consciousness. He looked ill. His lips were dry and cracked, and Mulder, feeling guilty, knelt to support his head and give him a little water. Alex was still very pale, and he was bleeding from several places. Mulder unlocked the cuffs, allowing him to bring his arms down to his side, and Alex gave a cry of pain as sensation began to return to them. Wadding up the toilet paper, the kneeling man dampened it and sponged down the suffering man's face. Then he rose and went to the bathroom in search of more water for him. Returning with a glass he knelt beside the other man, taking the bruised hands in his. Mulder chafed his wrists for a moment and then held him tight as he cried out again.

"Are you going to kill me? Why don't you get it over with?" His eyes were dull, and his voice was flat. He shivered, and Mulder pulled his shirt around him.

"Kill you? No, Krycek, I'm not going to kill you." Mulder's expression was almost tender. "I'm going to clean you up, and then I'm going to feed you. Why do you think I'm going to kill you?"

"Because you hurt me. You've hated me since I was with the X-Files. Now you've got the chance. Why wouldn't you kill me? I'd have killed you." Alex closed his eyes again, and lay quietly in Mulder's lap. Somehow, this child-like speech of Alex's brought home anew the enormity of what he had just done. Mulder quailed. He knew that he had done something terrible. He als knew it was Alex's fault, but he couldn't work out how to explain that to the creature lying pathetically in his lap.

"Alex, I never hated you. I loved you, but then you betrayed me, and I've never been able to forgive you for that. You talk about what I've done to you, but what about the things you've done to me? You killed my father, gave Scully to those butchers, you killed Melissa and you seem to be in the center of anything that plays with my chances of getting to the bottom of this damned conspiracy. I just can't come to terms with the fact that one man could wish me so much harm. I still want to know why? Why did you do what you've done? Was it just because I made that pass at you?" Mulder was calm now, speaking in his quiet, flat voice. As he finished his voice cracked and broke. Alex looked up at him and noted the unshed tears in his eyes. He remained quiet for a few more minutes. Then taking in a shuddering breath he began to talk.

"Mulder! You of all people should know that it's not as easy as that. I did my job. You've got me wrong on a lot of it, but I can't explain it even now. It's not my secret. All I'm saying is think about things. Think about why I would be feeding you information the way that I have been doing. Ask yourself how you know I killed your father. While you're at it, ask yourself what would have happened to you if you'd gotten up the mountain in time to be there when Scully was taken. If you can think of answers to these questions, ask yourself what made you behave the way you just did to me. Is that how you usually treat your enemies? Do you rape all your sources? Why did you do it this time, Mulder?" Mulder closed his eyes and threw his head back. His mind was still reeling with the enormity of what he had done. He knew it was Krycek's fault, but he couldn't say why. He took a breath and decided to go on as if nothing bad had happened. Krycek still lay in his lap, and his breathing was calmer now.

"Alex, it's done now. You've done what you had to do, and so have I. If you still mean to give me your word that you'll work with me for the next 48 hours, do what I want you to do, I'll let you go after that." Mulder's voice was hoarse. He held his breath waiting for the answer.

"Deal, Mulder! I suppose I can be your whore for a couple more days. There's nothing that can happen to me now that would hurt me any worse." He put his hand up and took hold of Mulder's, shaking it awkwardly. Mulder sighed, and wordlessly helped the other agent to his feet. Krycek swayed a little, and Mulder kept his arm around him, steadying him. Then, the two of them made for the bathroom.

They made their way into the "Gasthaus" and sat down. Alex appeared to be much better for a bath and some painkillers, but he winced when he sat down on the bench. Mulder waved at the waitress, and when she came across, inquired if she spoke English. She shook her head blankly, and Alex addressed her in flawless German. Mulder gazed with interest as the two of them jabbered away for a good couple of minutes, then as the waitress smiled and left turned to Alex.

"What was all that about, Krycek? You trying to make new friends or what?" Mulder followed the waitress with his eyes as she went off, swinging her hips and casting glances back at Alex.

"I ordered for us. That's all. We're gonna have Zigeuner Schnitzel. Also, I told her to bring us some beer. Pils they call it. It's really good. I thought we could have a couple to get our digestion going." He stared blandly at Mulder and inwardly Mulder quailed. He had not been able to get past this calm, bland persona Krycek had adopted since the events earlier in the afternoon, and his heart wept for the loss of any real responses from the man he had abused so badly. Alex had told him he could be a whore for him, and that seemed to be just what he was getting.

The beers arrived, the waitress marking them off on a cardboard mat and wandering off after patting Alex on the head and saying something in German that made Alex laugh uproariously.

Dinner followed. Both men had now been without sleep for a long time, and Alex had not eaten in two days. They fell to and demolished their food very rapidly. The beers kept arriving, and Mulder was soon feeling a little worse for wear. Alex had been very sparing in his intake and was content just to watch his companion become drunk, reasoning that if he were addled enough, he would not be attacking him or wanting sex in the immediate future. He really needed time to heal, and this would help a little. He was beginning to get a fever. Spending the night on Skinner's balcony in freezing conditions had not helped. He had not slept at all. Then Mulder had dragged him here to this day of Hell. He needed sleep. He needed it really badly, but he couldn't get out of his mind what had happened to him this afternoon. He had come in Mulder's mouth. He hadn't wanted to enjoy it, but it had been perversely wonderful. He had not been able to will away the incredible sensations Mulder's mouth had produced, and he had come. He needed somehow to erase that moment. The waitress was now sitting in the seat beside Alex, making coy jokes about "Big Americans" and licking her lips rather a lot. Mulder was watching, but his eyes had reached the stage where they didn't track together any more. Alex decided it was time to make his move.

"I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back." He stood carefully and lazily sauntered off in the direction of the rear of the restaurant. Fox watched him turn the corner, then he laid his head down on his arms and closed his eyes. The waitress stood up and dusted her skirt down. Alex prowled out of the bar towards the back of the Gasthaus, in search of the gents. He paused at the door, to glance back into the bar at Mulder, who appeared to be snoozing with his head on his arms. His waitress was not immediately apparent. Alex stood watching Mulder for a moment, his face inscrutable and then turned back down the passageway. He pushed into the bathroom and gratefully unloaded his glass of beer. Washing his hands, he caught sight of his own face in the mirror. He had dark circles under his eyes, and Alex studied himself intently, looking for the sign on his back that he felt sure must be there alerting everyone to the fact that he was a weakling, a sucker, a victim. His body still hurt, but he was beginning to think that he would live. He wasn't sure that this was the option that he wanted. The shifting sands of his self esteem had buried his desire to go on. As of right now he could no longer see the point in life. He could feel nothing except rage, and it was this anger that was his only fuel. He wondered what the next 48 hours would bring him. He had considered running, but decided that he would rather die than confirm Mulder's belief in him as a liar, who would not hold to a bargain. He would go through with it, no matter what the cost, in order to try and improve his own feelings about himself. He wondered what kind of idiot that made him. He shivered, and turned to leave.

Opening the door, he caught sight of his waitress. She had come to find him, just as he thought she would. She was small and delicate, with high breasts that peeked enticingly from a white, lacy camisole. She wore a black skirt that was merely a token, barely covering her butt, and beneath which her long shapely legs were encased in dark hose. She had dark, short hair cut into a shiny cap that allowed tendrils to frame her face, large brown eyes and a red mouth that promised sinful pleasures. She beckoned to him, and he moved to her, putting his arm around her waist. She reached up to pull his head towards her, planting a quick kiss on his lips, then led him back through a door at the end of the corridor.

Inside, she closed the door and Alex could see a linen closet, with shelves full of white towels, sheets and tablecloths. She smiled up at Alex then, moving in close to him and lifting her hands to unbutton his shirt. Quickly, he grabbed both her hands and raised them to his lips and then put both his arms around her and stooped to kiss her. Her kiss was hot, the promise of her mouth a warm wet reality into which he slipped gratefully. He put one hand behind her head, pressing into her with desperate urgency, wanting to rediscover himself as a sexual animal in control of his own destiny, his own responses. She answered his need with her own, tongues entwining, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth. She had flung her arms around his neck, and he lifted her and carried her over to a bale of towels, pushing her back against it and running his hands over her breasts, down to her waist, where he reached behind to unfasten the buttons and zipper on her skirt. She sighed and then wriggled, rubbing up against him, and casing him to wince as her undulation reminded him of cuts and abrasions he had received earlier that day.

"Wie heisst du?" he whispered, before nibbling at the corner of her mouth. She didn't answer immediately, as she busily licked his lips, kissing her way along his jaw and biting behind his ear.

"Ursula. Du?" She returned her attention to his neck and sucked hard, leaving a red mark that he could not even think about right now, but which he was sure he would have trouble explaining later.

"Alex." He pushed her skirt down, and she stepped out of it. His hands moved down to grab her buttocks, before he stuck his thumbs into the waistband of her panties. Moving back to allow him better access, she began to unbutton his fly, reaching in to where his penis was beginning to thicken in anticipation. As he pulled her underwear down and then off, she arched back across the towels, offering herself to him. He ran his hands up her inner thighs until they reached her centre, before leaning forward and kissing his way across her belly, then applying his mouth to her vulva, tongue swirling around her clit, one, then two fingers pushing themselves into her. She groaned and spread her legs wider, putting her hands on his head to guide him as he licked and sucked busily. He could feel her tightening around his fingers, the core of her growing wet and slippery. Alex wanted, really wanted to make her come. He felt that somehow it would allow him to prove to himself that he was still the person he had always been. He threw himself into his task with total concentration. Her hands clenched in his hair, and he wanted to scream because it hurt him so much. She was so close he could feel how very near the edge she was, as she uttered little, lost whimpering sounds, and her eyes closed. He stood up straight and pressed his penis into her, feeling the heat and warmth in a shiver of delight as he plunged in as far as he could.

He began to move inside her, feeling her vaginal walls clamping onto his cock as he thrust. This was nice! This was worth having! He put his fingers down to where their bodies joined and began to rub her clit and then felt her insides begin to flutter. She groaned again, muttering incoherently, and then came in earnest, body spasmed, head thrown back and breath ragged as she bit her lip. He threw himself down to cover her and kissed her mouth deeply in genuine gratitude. A couple of minutes later, he felt his own orgasm building, and collapsed bonelessly as he felt himself spurt into her amid a tide of tingling heat. He lay for a minute recovering before staggering to his feet. Employing one of the towels on the stack, he dried her gently before wiping himself down and then refastening his jeans.

"Thank you, Uschi, thank you." He smiled at the girl who still lay in total disarray, and then quietly left the storeroom.

Returning quickly to the bar, he saw that Mulder had not moved from where he lay slumped. Sighing, he shook the other man's shoulder. It was time to get the show on the road. He felt better. He would cope whatever came.

The bar had closed, and the landlord had summoned Alex back downstairs from his room. Alex, who had been sleeping very peacefully, was more than a little upset when the landlord had demanded that he take Mulder back to the room. He had been very content to leave the man who had raped him sleeping it off on the table, but the hotel staff had other ideas, and so Alex was now attempting to get Mulder back to the room and out of trouble. It was as simple as getting a genie back into its bottle.

Fox Mulder was a maudlin drunk. Alex had woken him and was now attempting to get all of him into the elevator, so that he could get him back up to their room. He manhandled Mulder into the elevator, not an easy task when the sozzled agent's legs had apparently developed independent motion, and were trying to go off in opposite directions neither of which was the right way. Cushioned from the jabs to the kidneys and other small hurts that Alex had tried to inflict on him by several gallons of German beer, Mulder knew no pain. Sighing, Alex gave up trying to make him uncomfortable and concentrated on getting him out of the bar. Right now, Mulder was leaning up against the corner with Alex leaning against him in an attempt to keep him from sliding down the wall and across the floor. Fox was mumbling incoherently and showed an appalling tendency to keep grabbing Alex in a proprietary manner. Alex delivered a punch to his gut that made him fold neatly in the middle and he finally got the elevator loaded and closed, pushing the button for the fifth floor with a sigh of relief.

Mulder gave a huge groan, and as the elevator began to ascend, he began his descent. The lanky agent buckled at the knees and slowly toppled forwards over the long suffering Alex until he lost his balance, and the pair of them crumpled into a heap of thrashing arms and legs. The elevator came to a standstill, and the doors opened on their corridor, but just as Alex managed to fight himself out of the tangle, they closed again, and the elevator began to descend.

Shouting a number of particularly virulent curses in Russian, Alex thumped impotently on the button as the malevolent elevator came to rest on the ground floor once more. He tried to gather Mulder together as the doors opened, and a pair of elderly ladies entered. Grinning somewhat maniacally, Alex bent to put his arms under Mulder's shoulders, in an attempt to lift Mulder up off the floor. The elevator began to ascend once more, and too late, he realized that he had not yet pushed the button for his floor. Panicking, he attempted to extract his right hand to do so, but Mulder chose just that moment to open his eyes and throw his arms around Alex, trying drunkenly to kiss him. The old ladies moved into the corner of the elevator, where they huddled somewhat apprehensively, and Alex gibbered as the elevator went sailing past his floor.

The elevator came to rest on the 12th floor, and the two women, who had entered the elevator very sedately, shot from its innards as if pursued by demons. Mulder's voice followed them, telling them in slurred but distinctive tones just how beautiful Alex was. Alex heaved a sigh of relief and pushed the button for the 5th floor. The doors closed on him, and the elevator dropped. Mulder threw up.

Alex was by this time beginning to think that he had already died and was now in hell. As the elevator opened its doors enticingly onto the 5th floor, he shoved out his foot, and tried to peel Mulder off the floor, succeeding only partially as bits of Mulder kept eluding him and slipping down to rest once more. The door closed on Alex's leg.

Yelping a little, Alex prepared to get nasty. He grabbed Mulder by the hair and yanked. This had some of the desired effect. The other man appeared to get himself together to a certain extent, and rearing up to his full height, he stalked from the elevator, with Alex scampering in his wake like a tugboat following a liner into dock. This dignified procession was spoiled when after three disdainful paces Mulder suddenly pitched forward, and fell flat on his face in front of their door.

Shaking his head, Alex took out his key and opened the door to the room. After this afternoon, he had thought that he would never again want to see this room. He found himself feeling relieved when he finally gathered the unconscious thorn in his flesh by the hair and the back of his T-shirt and dragged him into the room before slamming the door shut with great relief.

He busied himself, stripping the dead weight that was Mulder down to his boxers, bathing his face and finally managing to pour him into the bed. Alex was concerned that he would be sick again and reluctant to share his space with a vomiting drunkard went in search of a receptacle just in case. He finally settled on the ice bucket and placed it next to the bed ready, then grabbing a spare blanket and a couple of pillows, he curled up on the floor beside the bed and fell instantly asleep.

Krycek awoke in the early hours of the morning. His body hurt. The only part that wasn't stiff was his dick, he thought to himself as he rolled and stretched, trying to iron out the kinks in his spine. He sat up to check on Mulder, figuring that the other agent had been the reason why he had awakened. He did not immediately see Mulder, and with a sigh he got to his feet, wondering if he would have to go out in search of him. He knew only too well that enough booze could bring about sleepwalking, and Mulder had certainly been very drunk that evening. He circled the bed, but the other man had not merely fallen out on the opposite side. Alex gritted his teeth. He was sore, tired and fed up. He wanted to sleep. He actually wanted to sleep in the bed, although if Mulder was going to throw up again he certainly didn't want to have anything to do with that process.

He opened the door of the room and looked up the corridor. The elevator was there, facing him, its doors invitingly open. He noticed that it had been cleaned since he last saw it. He shuddered, and when he didn't see Mulder, he retreated, closing the door behind him.

Next, he went to the bathroom to check if Mulder had found his way there. When he saw the other man slumped loosely over the toilet, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mulder, you OK?"

Mulder groaned, sounding a little as if he were a rusty door.

"Oh God, Krycek! I think I'm gonna die. I feel really bad." He raised plaintive eyes to Alex, who actually did feel a little sorry for him as he studied the usually intelligent face of his current partner. Alex filled a glass with water, shook a couple of aspirins out of the bottle, and handed them to the afflicted man. Mulder took them gratefully and downed them quickly.

"Are you feeling sick?" Alex was anxious and prepared to back away very smartly as Mulder struggled to his feet.

"Not now, but I've got a terrible headache." Mulder's voice held all the misery of the healthy male unused to the feeling of less than perfect health. Alex grinned.

"You deserve it. Don't you know any better than to knock back German beer on an empty stomach? Dumb fuck!" Mulder looked at him in mute appeal and Alex shook his head. "What? What do you want from me? I promised to stay with you for a couple of days, not to nurse you in sickness and in health. If you're sick, I'm not gonna clean it up for you. Live with it!"

Mulder pulled himself to his feet and struggled back to the bed where he lay down.

"I'm not going to be sick now, it's OK. Come to bed, I won't touch you." He closed his eyes, and after a minute, Alex peeled off his clothes down to his T-shirt and boxers and then crawled gratefully into the bed beside Mulder. Within a couple of minutes, they were both asleep.

The two men slept on into the morning, and it was around nine when Alex finally opened his eyes, rather blearily, and surveyed the day. His fever was still present, he had developed a sore throat and a headache to go with it. On the pillow to his left he could see the tuft of hair that was the only visible part of Mulder. On his right, the window, when he tweaked the curtains open a little, revealed a grey, blustery day that certainly didn't encourage him to leap out of bed.

Forced from his warm cocoon by his bladder, he stumbled off to the bathroom, where he rinsed his face in cold water and brushed his teeth, feeling a little better as he did so. Shaking a couple of aspirin from the bottle and chewing them, he decided that a shower could wait for a while. He high-tailed it back to the bed where he snuggled down, hoping to enjoy a few more minutes of warmth and comfort before he needed get up finally and face the day.

He was just nestling gratefully into his pillows when his companion finally came to. Initially there were a couple of hollow groans, and Alex grinned. Serve the bastard right! he thought viciously as he mentally took stock of his aches and pains. He felt a whole lot better now that he had had a little sleep.

Mulder moaned again and Alex prepared to be entertained as the other man emerged, whimpering, from his bedclothes. Tousled, hollow eyed and yellow, he looked anything but the picture of health as he made his own burst for the bathroom. Alex reached out a lazy arm for the telephone, and once he had dialed room service, he ordered breakfast, figuring that Mulder would feel better with juice and coffee inside him, even if he didn't feel like eating. He personally was starving, and he ordered eggs, ham, toast and cold cuts.

Mulder chose that second to reappear and stumbled back to bed. Krycek, comparatively clear eyed and full of energy, informed him that breakfast was on its way. It was worth it to hear the moans that followed his announcement.

"Alex, I'm sorry, really sorry." Mulder didn't elaborate, and Alex didn't ask him to. He merely nodded and left it at that. Mulder rolled to face Alex, and lifted a finger to touch a bruise that was showing just on his hairline. "You made me so angry. I think I was out of my mind. I would never.... Alex, I love you. Really, I do. I always have."

Alex closed his eyes and counted silently under his breath. "Mulder, I've told you, you have me for 48 hours, but that's it. I don't see my future as your sex toy. I'm not going to hang around after 4pm tomorrow, I give you fair warning. Now I'm keeping my side of the bargain. I'm trusting you to keep yours." He looked full at Mulder then and saw misery in the other man's eyes. He shrugged mentally. Some you win, some you lose. This time, Mulder would lose.

Mulder leaned forward then and kissed Alex, first very tenderly, nibbling his lips with gentleness he hadn't shown the day before. Alex lay passively, permitting the contact, and then gradually Mulder increased the pressure of his mouth over Krycek's, putting his soul into a kiss that had Alex responding in spite of himself. He made a soft sound in his throat, somewhere between a whimper and a sob, and his tongue began to find its way into Alex's mouth, his hands coming up to cradle Alex's face gently. After a few seconds, Alex gave a sigh, and began to kiss him back. He put his arms around Mulder, pulling his body into him and pressing up against him as hard as he could. If he was going to do this, he might as well get some enjoyment from it. He opened his lips further, and his tongue began to duel with Mulder's. The knock on the door when it came made them both jump. Mulder clambered laboriously out of the bed, pulling on jeans over his bulging erection and moving to answer the door. Room service had arrived, and there was food piled onto a cart. Mulder quickly pulled it into the room, thanked the bellhop and closed the door again.

They both felt better after several glasses of orange juice, plenty of coffee, and the food that they found under the covered trays. Mulder had also taken another couple of aspirin, and he felt almost human. Turning back to Alex where he lounged on the bed in his underwear, munching on a piece of toast, he tried again.

"Alex, I want to make things up to you. Show you how I feel about you. I want to love you properly." He was obviously in earnest, and Alex was amazed. It didn't seem to matter what he said; Mulder would just keep on trying until he could get away.

Listen Mulder, I have the flu, I'm sore from what you did to me yesterday, I don't now, and never will love you, but if that means nothing to you, go for it! Alex said nothing, knowing what would be next, and unable to do anything about it in his present weakened state. He had promised, and he would keep his promise.

Mulder crept back onto the bed, and Alex finished his toast, licking each finger clean the way a cat might. Mulder lay watching him, and gently tracing the lines of muscle in his arms as he did so.

"You make me want to tear you to pieces, Alex," he confided. "I look at you and you're so beautiful. You're the most beautiful thing I ever saw, and I want you so much, but you aren't mine, and I know that. It feels as if I've taken poison. I don't know what to do. I know you don't love me, but God, I wish you did." Mulder buried his head in Krycek's shoulder, and after a moment or two, Alex gently put his arm around Mulder, and held him while he cried.

As Mulder quieted, Alex withdrew his arms, pulling away from Mulder and getting out of bed.

"God Mulder, you're such a fucking mess. I won't have to kill you. You'll do it for me one of these days."

The plane ride had been a far cry from the sleek, transatlantic flight of the previous day. They had embarked on a small, propeller driven crate that looked as if it had seen better days. It did not help that one of the passengers had what appeared to be a wire crate full of chickens. Alex was coughing and shivering now, and Mulder was very quiet. They had wordlessly dressed, packed and checked out of the hotel two hours before the flight and now were deplaning at an airport which was barely more than a field with a hut at one end. It was becoming dark already, and Mulder thought that they should find somewhere to spend the night before attempting any investigations. He was a little worried about Alex's coughing. He had dosed him with some disgusting tasting cough syrup he had obtained before they departed Frankfurt. Now Alex appeared drowsy, and the air was freezing cold. At Mulder's prompting, they managed to find a room in a farmhouse several miles from the airport. After signing the guest book, Mulder requested some lunch to be brought to their room and then went off to get Alex into bed before he became any sicker than he was already.

Alex needed little or no persuasion to get into the bed and lay quietly, coughing from time to time. The landlady arrived with bowls of stew and black bread. They ate hungrily, and Alex appeared better. Mulder decided to leave Alex to sleep for a while and went off to see if there was anyone in the area who could speak English, and who would talk to him about the thing they had come so far to find.

Alex opened his eyes on a brand new day. He felt much better. His fever seemed less, and his throat no longer ached the same way. He rolled over to see that Mulder was awake and watching him.

"Have you been awake for long?" Alex still sounded a little hoarse, but the smoky quality of his voice was merely enhanced by his sore throat.

"About an hour. I was watching you sleep. You are so beautiful. I didn't want to wake you until I had to. We'll have to go soon, we've still got about an hour's travelling to do, and I need you to translate for me for a little while yet." Mulder stroked Alex's cheek softly as he spoke and rolled to snuggle against his warmth.

"Mulder, I want you to know...." Alex was starting to speak when Mulder put his hand over Alex's mouth and stopped him.

"Alex, I don't want you to say anything else. I know this is the last chance I'm ever going to have to show you how I feel about you." Mulder gave a little choking sound and then pulled Alex to him and kissed him hard.

Alex shuddered at the sensation of Mulder's lean, hard body against his, finally relaxing into the embrace with a sigh. Mulder turned his mouth against Krycek's, working with his lips to open Krycek's mouth, and when his lips parted, he gently stroked his tongue between them, moaning softly. Alex allowed him a little more access, and they lay, exploring each other's mouths, holding each other, Mulder's hands running over Krycek's back, along his ribs and down over his hip to cup his butt.

Mulder had become hard very quickly, and he could feel that Alex was beginning to get excited too. He ground his prick into Alex, rubbing it back and forth over Alex's. The sensation was amazing. He felt Alex's cock pulsing as it grew, and putting his hand down between them, he squeezed both of them together, gasping as the first splintery tingles of pleasure flashed through him. Alex put a hand up to his cheek, and Mulder's eyes flew to look at his face.

"Just one thing, Mulder. I'm gonna be the one today. I'm gonna do you." Mulder's cock pulsed wildly at his reluctant lover's words.

"Oh God, Alex, I want you to. Please, hurry." He reached for a tube of lube he had bought after the fiasco the day before. Opening the cap, he began to spread it into his hand, warming it. Reaching down, he smeared it onto Alex's cock, and his hand began to slide up and down the shaft, making Alex moan and buck his hips.

"Better not do that for too much longer, Mulder, unless you want me to shoot first and ask questions later!" Mulder reluctantly let go of Alex and began preparing himself, spreading the lube over his anus, pushing in first one, then two fingers, stretching himself so that Alex would be able to get his cock in without causing him too much discomfort.

Finally, Alex pushed Mulder face down on the bed and made him draw his knees up, so that he lay open, waiting for his impalement.

"Oh God! Alex, please hurry! I want you so much." Alex finally took hold of his penis and traced around the entrance to Mulder's passageway. Then at last he put the broad head against Mulder's puckered opening and pushed it home. It slipped in, meeting a little resistance at first, and then sliding in to the hilt, until Alex's belly rested on Mulder's ass cheeks. Alex dug his fingers into the skin of Mulder's sides, twisting the flesh beneath his fingers, hurting the other man as he gripped him. Mulder cried out incoherently, and Alex put his hand over the other man's mouth.

"If you make too much noise, I will stop. Be quiet!" Mulder groaned but quieted at this, and slowly at first, gradually picking up speed, Alex began to pump in and out of Mulder's ass.

Mulder began to lose it first. He was clutching his cock, frantically rubbing it as Alex pumped, and his balls tightened. The first wave of glowing tickling pleasure shot through him, starting in his balls, and spreading like ripples the length of his dick, across his belly and down through his thighs.

"Oh! Fuck me, Alex!" he screamed as he came. Alex, felt Mulder's muscles flex and tighten around his cock, clamping down and sending slippery hot joy pulsing through it. He grunted and his own orgasm rushed in like the tide, causing him to collapse onto the back of the man he despised..

"Yes! Fuck you, Mulder! Fuck you!"

They lay on the hillside watching the men below them. They had arrived here at the end of their journey, but they were still not sure exactly what it was that they were watching.

"We'll be finding out the truth soon enough," Mulder said with certain smugness.

"The truth!" Alex spoke scornfully. "I told you before, there is no truth. You only see your own "truth", and that makes you into a hypocrite. Grow up, Mulder, and then maybe you'll find a truth that's worth looking for."

They were in a holding cell. Alex had been a little panicked, thinking they were going to be tortured, but it hadn't happened. Mulder's watch was showing 4pm. Alex had yelled some Russian in answer to a guard, and suddenly Mulder became aware that his time was up. He grabbed Alex by the throat and pushed him up against the wall.

"What did you say to him?"

Alex surveyed him grimly, and the blank stare in his eyes made a mockery of intimacy previously given.

"Don't touch me again."

2.1: She Ain't Pretty, She Just Looks That Why

Things to do in St. Petersburg when you're dead. Alex Krycek had arrived earlier that day from the frozen green wasteland that was Tunguska, and the smell of the city was sour in his nostrils after the tundra.

He was mildly angry at having to be here but knew that the only way he could get back into the game was to return to the US, and now he had something worth the trading. All it would take was a little patience, and patience was something Alex had learned over the years. It was cold, and sleet was lashing down on him as he stepped out of the car that had been sent to convey him to his hotel. He nodded to the comrade behind the wheel before turning towards the facade of one of the city's better hotels and picking up his suitcase.

He supposed he could not grumble, but he hankered for the relaxed existence he had enjoyed in the US. He had scores to settle too, and he could not even begin to address them from an out-of-the-way facility like Tunguska.

As he was conducted to his room, one of the better rooms the hotel had to offer, his skin tingled with anticipation. He'd waited so long for this, and now everything was getting under way for him. The tingle along his veins and the buzz in his head felt as if he was on a high. It was like the Earth's first quickening after the winter. He felt suddenly alive and powerful again, as if he were breaking free from the confines of the chrysalis that had held him cocooned since the early winter.

His left arm itched unbearably, and, frustrated, he drove his fist into it again and again. The hollow thud of his fist on the plastic only served to infuriate him. He was devastated that this had happened to him, and that brought him to his next reason for wanting to get back to the good old US of A.

Fox Mulder.

He was the sum total of Alex's murderous aspirations. He'd been the cause of all his woes. He had beaten him, kidnapped him, raped and abused him before abandoning him in the ass-end of the universe and bailing on him when the local peasants (and he sneered as he named them that) had hacked off his arm.

Krycek had been in many unpleasant, even painful situations since the unfortunate (for him) Skyland Mountain affair had forced him out of his comfort zone and into the shadows. Most of these occurrences could be directly attributed to Fox Mulder.

Because of Mulder he was a cripple. Because of Mulder he'd been forced to do whatever it took. He'd sold his body in exchange for whatever services he could gather to him. Because of Mulder he'd lost most of the things he valued, and he was at last looking forward to equalizing the score.

The night they'd cut off his arm, he'd vowed that some day Fox Mulder would pay for this, and at long last it seemed as if he had the means at hand. Just let him get through this meeting tonight and he'd be all set. He had the means, he had the opportunity, and he had the motivation.

God, yeah, he had the motivation.

Fox Mulder would pay.

As he arrived in his room, he threw his case onto the bed, taking little notice of drab furnishing and peeling paintwork. He threw off his heavy winter coat, hat and boots, opened his suitcase and began to lay out clothes.

Nodding in satisfaction, he stripped off his heavy uniform, turned to the sink in the corner of the room and began to wash himself clean of the journey, rubbing hard with the coarse soap in his attempts to work up a lather.

Seen naked this way, Alex Krycek was a handsome man. Little remained of the smooth- cheeked junior agent who Fox Mulder had been so taken with when he had been assigned to him as a temporary partner. That Alex Krycek had been shy appearing, with gawky body protruding, stork-like from his ill-fitting suits, gel-coated hair and power tie. His aspect was now that of a man who had undergone suffering and come through it stronger. His face was fuller and more determined. A chin that had once appeared weak did so no longer, and he now wore a piratical look on his face. His most outstanding features were a pair of large, wide-set green eyes, thickly fringed with dark lashes.

A retrousse nose over a pair of mobile, perfectly bowed lips set off a face that had more than its fair share of charm. His hair was now worn short, brutally short in a buzz cut that revealed the finely molded shape of his head. As he began to dry himself, his back muscles rippled and slid taut beneath his skin as he moved and twisted, now graceful, now ungainly in his single-armed struggle.

Dried at last to his satisfaction, he turned to the clothing he had earlier distributed on the bed and began to dress himself, beginning with faded denims beneath which he wore no underwear, and a pair of dark-colored, silk socks. Pausing to fix his prosthesis into place, he reached for a shirt made from fine, white cotton, slipping into it but for the moment allowing it to hang loosely open around his waist. Finally checking his watch, he drew a paperback from the pocket of his overcoat and settled back on the single bed to read.

Maybe an hour had passed by when the phone beside his bed rang, and he put down his book, reaching eagerly to pick it up. He listened for a few minutes before he spoke.

"I'll be there in five minutes. Sure...wait for me." Scrambling to his feet, he swiftly buttoned his shirt and tucked it into his jeans. Inserting his feet into a pair of casual leather slip-on shoes, he grabbed for the black leather jacket that lay at the foot of the bed, ready. Scooping his wallet and keys into his hand, he strode quickly to the door and out, allowing it to click shut behind him.

Arriving downstairs in the restaurant, he caught the eye of more than one person as he paused in the doorway to study the diners. As he looked around, something in the set of his face and the way he carried himself made people lower their gaze again, and he was left alone to check out the diners until finally he noticed the woman sitting alone in the corner. She was half hidden from the main dining area as she sipped white wine behind a large display of parlor palms.

The woman was fine porcelain, translucent skin fine-grained and stretched over the knife blade cheekbones and the long column of her throat. Her neck was slender and arching to the smooth, spare planes and angles of her diamond-cut face.

Fair-skinned, blond and with eyes as clear and expressionless as the summer skies Alex recalled from his youth, she did not by one wit acknowledge him as he approached her table. He swung a chair out in order to seat himself opposite her. They looked at each other for a short while, and finally Alex's mobile mouth spread wide, flashing white teeth in the kind of smile that would usually let you know that your death was already a matter of record.

"I see you brought your American ass." The voice was cool, expressionless as the rest of her. She didn't drop her gaze, and her hands lay placidly on the table, betraying no nervousness.

"Yeah...you gonna kiss it for me later?" The sneer was unmistakable, and for the first time Alex saw a slight cloud pass across the china blue gaze fixed on his.

"You requested this meeting, Krycek, come to the point." The edge to her voice was unmistakable. She wanted him. Glory Hallelujah! She wanted carnal knowledge of him. He could do that. That was not a problem. That in fact made things so much simpler. He looked her up and down. She could have been a duchess, sitting there in her silk with her single strand of pearls and her ice-queen elegance, but the vague, faint tremor of her hand when it moved to pick up her wine betrayed the fact that she wanted him. She was discovered. She wanted the dirty boy with the big green eyes and the bulge in his jeans.

His grin widened and he licked his lips slowly, eyes still on her face. The waiter appeared to take his order, and he ordered sparingly. No alcohol, just pasta and water. He needed to keep his wits about him tonight. Drinking wine would make him careless, and he had to remain in control. This time, Alex would be in control to the last degree. This time he would win. It was all within his grasp now, and he would have it.

The meal passed slowly. Marita appeared bemused as it went on. Alex was charming, attentive, and they exchanged only pleasantries as the time went by. Finally, however, tossing a sheaf of banknotes onto the table, Alex rose and ushered his companion out of the restaurant. As they went, he made the pleasing discovery that the dress she was wearing plunged steeply down her narrow back, revealing the tantalizing bumps and hollows of her spine right down to her waist and a little below.

Alex's eyes flickered down from the bell of her hair over the slope of her neck to the slender, fine downed shoulders and on to the dip at her waist where folds of beige silk lay draped. Moving forward to crowd her a little, he carefully placed three fingers from his left hand onto the bare skin between her shoulder blades, guiding her forward, noting the shiver that she gave as the plastic of his prosthesis made contact with her sensitive skin.

"Where can we go to talk?" His husky voice dragged across her awareness like a silk scarf on naked flesh. She turned in towards him, unconsciously drawing closer to him, inhaling his scent and feeling her pulse quicken as the certainty dawned on her that she was definitely going to get to kiss the sweet American ass that was moving so sensuously alongside her.

Alex felt the shudder go through her and flexed his fingers, bestowing a cold caress on her spine, at the same time leaning in to whisper intimately, hot breath in her ear as his lips moved.

"You could come to my room. It's not bugged. They wouldn't dare." His fingers worked in small slow circles on her spine now, moving ever lower as the two of them headed for the elevator.

"I was thinking of mine. It's so difficult to find nice linen in Russia. I brought my own sheets with me." As they stepped into the elevator, Krycek brought his index finger up to caress her from the lobe of her ear, down the side of her neck to her collar bone resting sharp as a blade in the well-turned elegance of her décolletage. She moistened her lips and offered him a frozen smile.

Once inside her room, they paused. She perched herself in an armchair, sitting as primly as if she had been at a cocktail party, composed and cold. He moved at once to her bed, first sitting, and then rolling to sprawl on it, boneless and relaxed in cat-like ease.

"When you contacted me, I was wondering what you wanted. The Consortium thinks you dead. What do you need from me?" Now they were talking business, and her demeanor was brisk, but he could still feel her eyes on him as he lounged back on her bed, and he adjusted his pose so that his excitement would be evident to her. Her eyes flickered, and her small intake of breath told him she had noticed. The slow flush that followed made him secure in his knowledge that she knew he'd noticed. He was enjoying this.

"I'll cut to the chase. I want to come home. I'm prepared to bring something very valuable with me, but I'll need safe conduct and more. I'll need a position within the team." His voice drew the hairs on the back of her neck as if there were electricity in the air. She studied his wanton sprawl, the tawdry glamour of him, she felt the blood rush to that spot between her legs she'd been attempting to ignore for the past several hours. Her mouth had dried up, and she suddenly felt gauche, clumsy, not something she was used to feeling.

He awaited her response with the fixed stare and the benign air of a cat toying with a small mammal. Unable to suffer his gaze any longer, she stood, smoothing down the silk of her skirt. Moving to stand beside the window, she studied the street outside, where snow had begun to fall, settling on the sidewalks and whirling through the dim lighting like so many butterflies.

Abruptly, she closed the drapes on the cold night and whirled to face him. "I can offer you a means of returning to the US. There's a certain ship you can take." She moved to the dresser, where she made rapid notes on a jotter with a slim, gold pen before tearing off the top several sheets and passing them across. "I'm not able to give you assurances about any deal or future position once you arrive. The number you need to phone on arrival is on the sheet." She offered a chilly smile as she finished speaking, and he tucked the folded sheets into the inside pocket of his jacket before reaching out with his right arm to snag her wrist, drawing her down to rest beside him on the bed.

She hunched defensively as he bought her down to him, and he made up his mind at that point, sliding his hand up her neck to twist in her hair. He pulled back her head, exposing her slender, white throat. He kept her there, open to him, for what seemed an eternity, and then, he leaned forward slowly to bite, causing her to cry out sharply.

Then, and only then, did he transfer that supple mouth to hers, plunging his tongue into her as he bore down, bruising her lips with the ferocity of a kiss that had nothing of the lover in it.

Her facade of untouchability crumbled at this point, and she rolled around to meet his body, pulling him down against her with an urgency that surprised him. Sliding the silken, knit fabric from her shoulders, he dropped his head down to her breasts, fixing his lips over one rosy nipple as his fingers moved to roll the other between finger and thumb. Her breathing deepened and she arched back, holding his head between her two palms as he lapped and tongued her breasts.

He was fully hard now, his straining penis a dagger poised between his legs to stab the scrawny bitch's heart out. He was not averse to pleasuring this woman, but he didn't like her and was going to make sure that the sensations he invoked in her would be crude and harsh. He wouldn't raise his game for her. She must lower hers.

She was pulling now at his shirt, and he took her fingers instead to the buttons on his jeans. "The shirt stays on," he said throatily before taking her mouth again as roughly as before.

She unbuttoned him with staggering speed, pulling on the fabric of the waistband of his jeans and plunging her hands down inside to cup his buttocks, squeezing and kneading them as she gripped him.

He had been going to fuck her like this, still clothed, uncaring if he saw her as he drove in, but her apparent lack of concern for his boorishness made him reconsider, slow down and draw back from her, prompting her to free herself from her dress.

She lay on the bed as he studied her breasts, gilded by the lamplight, ribs clearly delineated and the mysterious hollow of her navel quivering as her breath drove it in and out. She had on only a scrap of pale blond lace anchored by silken strands, and he bent to her groin, tonguing her through the flimsy fabric, the sounds of her arousal amusing him. He continued to suck and lick at her through her panties, monitoring her moans and whimpers with satisfaction.

He finally drew away, inserted thumbs under the strings of her panties and exerted the downward pressure required to peel them, soggy as they now were, from her moist crotch.

Kneeling over her, cock jutting from the open denim of his Levis, he dragged the balance of her clothing from her, leaving her clad only in her stockings. He remained above her, idly thumbing her clitoris as he studied the planes of her body, the golden fluff of her pubis, and the gleaming fuchsia of the cleft between her legs.

She whimpered, and he returned his attention to her, grinning again and pulling her up to sit before grabbing her hair with his right hand and offering his cock, angry and dripping, to her mouth.

"Suck me." She glared up at him through lust drugged eyes. A shudder went through her system once more as she heard his words. She leaned forward to take him in her mouth, sucking and drooling as she moved her head up and down on the shaft of him, causing him to jerk sharply with his hips as he held her head to him. After a few minutes, she croaked a protest, but he ignored her, continuing to fuck her mouth for a while longer. He could see that she was becoming red in the face, and his balls were starting to tighten in the sweet climb towards release. He jerked her head away from his by now twitching cock and leaned forward to anchor his lips to hers once again, tongue searching and probing as he savaged her mouth.

He pushed her back and lay over her, denim scratching the fair skin. Alex continued to kiss her roughly, and she folded her hands around the back of his head, nails embedding into his scalp. He felt the sting of it, and then the trickle of blood that ran around his ear to drip down his cheek. As it trickled, she raised her head and applied her lips to the blood, licking it away from his face with an amazingly rough tongue.

He growled and plunged his by now dripping cock into her, surprising her into a low cry as he moved fiercely. Then suddenly he withdrew from her to position his cock at the further entrance pushing, pressing until it slid into the tighter opening, moving her hand down between them to work her clit again. He jerked, pushed, spasmed, and shot into her as she screamed out her own release.

Collapsing onto her, he felt a certain satisfaction quite apart from the intensity of the orgasm he had just experienced. This woman was his ticket out of here, out of Holy Mother Russia and back to good old Uncle Sam. He was moved suddenly to tenderness and turned her face to him, feathering her features with small, moist kisses. Her arms went around him, and they lay together for a short while kissing gently.

"I have to go, thank you for your help." The smoky voice sounded loud after the fast silence of their lovemaking.

"I'll see you when you get to New York." Her voice had shed what passion he had heard in it previously and was once more matter of fact and cool.

As Alex withdrew from her to stand fastening up his fly and rearranging his clothing for his trip back to his room, he studied her lying there on the bed. Her arms and legs were an artless sprawl on the bedcover, her mouth swollen and reddened from the force of his kisses. He nodded to her as he turned to leave.

"I'll be there, don't you worry." With on last glance at the woman on the bed, he checked his watch and left her alone.

Alex returned to his own, less luxurious accommodation and set to work, packing his small bag with his civilian clothing and pausing from time to time to check his watch. As soon as he had finished, he rumpled the bed, hung up the uniform in which he had arrived and headed out of the door.

Descending to the foyer, he approached the concierge who had been idly lounging beside the check-in desk. Flashing his ID, he smiled gently as the man snapped to attention. "I want to check on a container that should have been delivered to me here. Would you know where it is and how it has been handled?"

Picking up the telephone, the clerk made a couple of inquiries and finally nodded to Krycek. "It has indeed been delivered and is even now awaiting your approval to unload it."

Obtaining directions, Krycek made his way down through the service areas to the loading bay at the back of the hotel where a flatbed truck with a large, rectangular wooden crate lashed to the back of it waited in the quiet. Krycek nodded his approval, climbed into the cab and started the engine. In a few more minutes he had pulled the truck out of the bay and had vanished, truck and all, into the thickening blizzard.

Some time later the truck, sliding a little despite the snow tires, pulled into the dockland area where for the most part, the hard top had been ploughed.

He began to search for the Uroff-Koltoff Star of Russia, the vessel Marita had named.

The dock was vast, stretching for mile after mile, littered with containers, vehicles, machinery and all the paraphernalia of the docks. Alex, by now extremely tired, continued to drive the truck along, its precious cargo still lashed to the back. He had almost given up hope when he finally arrived alongside the ship he had been seeking.

Killing the engine, Alex hopped out of the cab and went swiftly in search of the master of the ship. A check on the time showed it to be 4:30am, and he yawned, listening to the cracking of his jaw with grim amusement. The ship was due to sail in only another hour and a half. He was not quite home free yet.

In a further hour he was feeling almost free of the jitters that had infested his mid section for the past day. His crate was now residing in the warmth of the boiler room. Not up to the standards of the Hilton, perhaps, but it was warm, and that was a plus. He had opened the crate and folded back blankets and cotton wadding to reveal the still, drugged form of the boy, D'mitri. Alex had checked the boy's pulse points and nodded, satisfied, before offering him water. He seemed glad of the moisture, though it was plain to see that both his eyes and his mouth had been stitched closed.

Alex bent and scooped the boy out of the crate, arranging him on blankets. As he surveyed the frail, bruised form of the sorry piece of humanity that lay on the ground at his feet, he felt pity, quickly and ruthlessly suppressed as he thought of everything the boy symbolized for him.

Not human, not human any more. but he knew what he'd done, and a small part of him wept for himself and the things he'd found it in himself to do.

We'll all be like him soon enough. This is no time for repining. He's only a vessel. A vessel can be full or empty. He'll love the US. I'm doing him a favor. The surge of cold in the pit of his stomach gave his thoughts the lie. He turned back to the packing crate, rooting amongst the debris within until he located the phial of amber liquid that gave this boy at his feet a chance for survival and himself a chance for redemption. He swiftly dropped it into his pocket, checked that all was as it should be and left the room, pocketing the key to the door after securing it behind him.

The days at sea were uneventful, and it was almost with regret that Alex heard the news of their impending arrival into New York. D'mitri, though much thinner, was still healthy, and Alex was beginning to take fire at the thought of what lay in his future.

The change in the motion of the ship had seemed to unsettle D'mitri, who for the first time on the journey appeared to be restless.

A seaman's head poked briefly around the door and presented the information that they had docked. He didn't wait for a response before withdrawing once more to go about his usiness.

Alex was packed and prepared. His waiting was over, and he was anxious to have at it, to get going. A brief, absurd image of himself as a knight on a white charger slipped unbidden into his mind. His laugh of sheer amusement caused D'mitri to stir again.

It's as if he knows...as if IT knows that the game is about to start.

The white knight, head full of nonsense, turned to the telephone and reached for the handset. He paused to splutter with laughter again as the image of a damsel fair with a tall pointed hat with a veil on the end of it tossing him a favor turned out to be Fox Mulder.

Pausing to get himself straight, and finish with his spluttering laughter, he picked up the phone and dialed. The voice of the man at the other end of the line sent a frisson of excitement down his spine. It was the Brit. He had expected the Smoker, but he had gotten the Brit. Oh, this was excellent. This was better than anything. He knew what kind of hold he could secure over the Brit, and he spoke...

"Well," sarcasm piled on. He was so happy, so very happy! "Look who's answering the batphone."

In a few short sentences, he defined his terms, and having done so, he hung up and prepared to wait. He was good at waiting. His mind ran onto Fox Mulder once more and the interesting things he had lined up for him later. He felt his cock begin to harden as his mind dwelt on the things Mulder would be doing at his behest. It was going to be payback time, and payback was a bitch.

The door suddenly opened, and there she was, a little disheveled but still the icy beauty he recalled. He rose to meet her, and a couple of long-legged strides took him to her. He took great pride then in mussing her up, painting broad strokes of chaos over her ordered beauty through the medium of his bruising mouth and his clutching hand.

Once again the fury of her response astonished him, almost un-nerved him. She gave as good as she got, and he yelped as she bit down on the angle of his jaw. Her hands convulsed to work the shirt from his jeans so she could reach the flesh it concealed. His earlier thoughts of Mulder torture had made him hard, and this would be good. It would be brutal and cleansing. He invaded her mouth again, leaning her hard against the bulkhead as he ran his hand over her.

"Let's get out of here." Taking his hand, she led him away to the small, austere cabin he had been using, and without ceremony he raised her skirt, tearing underwear in his haste to be in her and pumping. She did not seem to mind, and he raised her up, seating her on his dresser while he fumbled with button and zipper.

She smacked his hand away to one side and finished the task herself, pulling his jeans down to mid thigh and seizing his sturdy cock, smoothing it, jerking it roughly once, and then pulling him to her insistently until he slid into her heated depths and lost himself.

Mouth on mouth, no gentleness here, they tore at each other in their haste to reach completion. She had her legs wrapped around his waist, and her long red nails were scoring his back as the two of them drove furiously at each other. Their breath came in gasps and grunts. Alex felt the build up as a physical entity inhabiting his loins, curling and uncurling within, sending shudders through him until at last it burst out through his skin, flooding him, flooding her as he arched, spurting, and then collapsed, slack-mouthed against her.

She remained wrapped around him, legs locked in the small of his back as he slumped over her. Her nails dug into the back of his neck, and her mouth whispered into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

"The bed, come on, let's take it to the bed. It's cramped here." He shook his head, trying to clear it, attempting to concentrate on something more than the drumming of blood in his ears. He scooped her up and moved, still joined to her, over to his bunk where he finally laid her down on the covers and stood flexing his spine until the joints popped and snapped. Finally he stripped down until he wore only his shirt.

She watched him as he skinned down and reached out to take hold of his now limp penis, still glistening from the combination of their juices. Pulling him towards her, she rose and pushed him down to lie on his back beneath her as she began to move over him, teeth and tongue, sharp nails and smooth skin bringing him back to throbbing readiness. She seemed to be making him cry out, groan and forget everything in the fog of moist pearl with which she enveloped him.

He lay, allowing her to work on him as she pleased, a slight smile parting his lips as she ran through her repertoire of caresses. She touched him, stroked him, squeezing and licking as she moved. She slowly worked her way down to pay attention to the area between his legs, scraping those nails from perineum to testes and following on with her tongue. She licked him like a cat, and it felt good. To be honest, it felt wonderful, her tongue on his balls and then suddenly lower as she probed the rosette of puckered flesh between his buttocks, pulling his cheeks wide as she jabbed her tongue into him again and again.

He was lost. His guard was down and at that moment he almost loved her. She swarmed over him, silken moisture pulling sensation from him like a genie from a bottle. Every muscle in him locked itself tight until he finally called her by name for the first time ever, begging her to let him come.

At last she seemed to be satisfied with the wreckage of him that she had wrought and let herself kneel above him, idly drawing the tip of his cock up and down her labia as he whimpered, beyond any coherent speech. He thrashed his head from side to side, and she smiled her superior smile and sat down on him hard, her cunt stretching over him like a glove. Its rippling, clutching moisture sucked the sensation from him and invoked a scream from him that sounded even to his ears as if it might have been a prayer.

At the end as she squirmed and wriggled on him, he finally could no longer hold back, and the riptide of sensation swept him as the flood poured through him, out of him, and into the deep recesses of her body. As she came to rest, he lay, totally exhausted.

Fucked! He thought, I'm completely fucked!

Climbing off him and allowing her skirt to fall back around her thighs, she pinched his cheek, a sharp reminder of her viciousness that marked him, though he didn't feel it right at that moment. She stooped then and kissed him, licking over parted, gasping lips and

"See you on shore, lover, hurry along now, won't you?"

...Left the room.

2.2: Giving it All Away.

He lay, content, sexually replete, mind plotting the safe hand-over of his treasures, and his next meeting with Fox Mulder. For a few minutes he dozed but finally struggled up with a start and reached for his discarded clothing.

Time to get going now. Let's go.

Once more back at the boiler room, he fumbled in his pocket for the key he knew was there.

But it wasn't. It wasn't there and the door was unlocked and

Dear God in heaven don't let it be, please don't let it be.

But despite his prayers, his fervent, toes clenched and everything in him straining  towards heaven prayers. D'mitri was gone. And fuck it! Fuck everything because now he was lost. Now he was back at their mercy and the night was going to be long and cold. He stood beside the blankets where his ticket to salvation had lain for the past few days, getting his scattered thoughts into some kind of order.

The bitch! The fucking, evil bitch! She's killed me. The opening door gave him a sudden, total shock. Ice water thrown over warm shoulders or the sudden surge of movement in close darkness as you peep under the bed would make you feel this way.

Because he knows a fearsome fiend doth close behind him tread. Oh, sweet Jesus, I'm fucked.

And inexorably, as unstoppable as the sunrise, the door swung open.

Being Krycek, he turned to face his killer, wanting whoever it was to know that Alex Krycek, one time FBI agent, traitor, and killer for hire was also brave enough to die without whining about it. The man behind the door stepped in and he received his next shock, his first glimmer of hope.

It was the Brit. It was the Brit and he felt the adrenaline surge prepare him for fight or flight and this was both, baby, this was most decidedly both.

His negotiations, clever words and half-lies had done a number on the Brit for sure. That was why he now found himself in handcuffs in the very place he had kept the boy. Talk about poetic justice. He was amazed he was still breathing and he knew that if he could convince the Brit of his sincerity, he would be home free.

It hadn't been easy. The Brit had known it all. Knew about the vaccine, knew about Marita, knew every last sordid detail, and was determined to have the vaccine from him.

Alex knew that the Brit would have gone to any lengths to force the information of its whereabouts from him and he would, he had no doubts, have yielded the information, screaming. Then, it dawned on him that the Brit wanted something else from him, and that he was going to make it, he really was.

It was himself. The Brit had the hots for him and that was OK. That was fine. He was no longer the righteously indignant little straight that had reacted so violently to Fox Mulder's proposition. He'd learned. He'd been taught, and never let it be said that Alex Krycek was not a quick study. He knew how to suck cock. He could tell when someone wanted to slip it to him and he knew he could command the highest prices. He was good at what he did.

He'd give the Brit everything his sorry heart desired, and at the end of it he would walk away the winner. He'd planned it out, content to lie in his chains knowing his looks, the sheer, feral sensuality of him would work on the Brit.

He'd been right. The old man had spent a long time, far longer than necessary, watching him. "Interrogating" him.

Interrogating! Right!

And Alex had put on a show for him, writhing and sultry, legs spread, lips wet and eyes smoldering. The Brit had been affected, he could tell. His chest had moved faster. He had flushed and turned away, only to return for more almost immediately. Alex gazed up at him, eyes like pools of bruised moss, shadows making the play of thick dark lashes on his cheek almost irresistible.

He had of course known what Alex was doing. He'd smiled thinly, mouth stretching as if he'd needed to dredge his memory to locate the instructions for doing so.

"You really are a piece of work, aren't you, Krycek?" he'd asked, not unkindly, and Alex had flashed his white smile briefly

That's how you do it, old man! See that?

And his chin had gone up.

"I am what you made me. I'm a survivor." His voice was almost a whisper, causing the old man to lean in close. His throaty whisper was pitched to buzz across his ears and send darts down to his gonads. Alex licked his lips and closed his eyes briefly, feathery lashes lying dark on his bristle-stained cheeks achieving a look that was at once both vulnerable and dangerous.

He heard the man above him catch his breath and then, peeping through the veil of his lashes, saw him duck down until his face was only inches from his own. He saw the expression of shame and longing and knew that he'd won.

He lowered his voice still further and whispered, knowing he had him now and that it was only a matter of time.

"I could.... be.... useful to you"

"What do you want, Krycek?" The man had not drawn back, if anything, he was closer. Alex fought back an urge to brush his lips over those that hung just above him.

Too soon, but close... any minute now and he's mine.

"I want my place. I want to stop hiding and take my place... I want..." Alex gleamed up at him speculatively, stretching seductively as he did so, eyes carefully monitoring the effects of his artless sensuality on this old man who held the key to all his futures.

"What? What is it? What else?" The voice was gentle, promising, and Alex risked it then, straining upwards to brush the thin lips, his tongue flicking over them before dropping back down to its former, relaxed position.

"Fox Mulder." He blurted it out. "I want Fox Mulder. He owes me." The old man's face clouded over. He had flinched at Alex's sudden onslaught on his senses, and now he appeared ill at ease. Alex lay quietly, his very posture a challenge, and waited. He felt very sure of himself now. He could see the effect that his proximity was having on the other man.

"Give me the vaccine, Alex. Give it to me and I'll sponsor you. I'll give you what you've asked for, and more besides." The Brit's voice was measured, and Alex could sense the care with which he chose his words, but he could also see the pulse in his neck beating rapidly, hectically, and the swelling at the front of the man's trousers was unmistakable. He'd won.

He nodded, and at long last the Brit drew out the key to the handcuffs and moved to unlock the restraints that held Alex. Pausing, he suddenly changed his mind, turning instead to the buttons on Alex's jeans and reaching inside to release his cock, already swelling and stiffening as he brought it out.

The man hitched his pants legs and knelt carefully, taking Alex into his mouth very suddenly and making him cry out as warmth, wetness and a flickering tongue sent a charge through him. A charge that grew rapidly as the man began to suck on him, to squeeze and fondle his balls, and finally to probe a questing finger into his anus, twisting and hooking until he found the small gland inside and stroked it as he sucked. Alex, made responsive by relief, excitement and plain, old deprivation, allowed the sensations to take him over. He came fast and hard, pumping his emission into the greedily sucking mouth at his groin. Finally, he fell back, trembling.

"You'll do." Leaving his clothing in disarray the Brit. finally unfastened the cuffs that were holding him in place. "Get the vaccine, this ship is due to sail in a couple of hours.

2.3: Kissing a Fool

He'd been fortunate. He knew he'd been very fortunate. The Brit had kept his word. He'd more than kept it and Alex had plunged into the administration of the multi-national Consortium of which he was now a part. He learned the strengths, noted the weaknesses and waited, always waited for his chance.

The Brit was kind. He made few demands on Alex, occasionally appearing in his room at night, but for the most part wanting - no, needing - affection rather than passion. After dissembling for a short time, Alex found out that his affection was no longer an act, and he felt pleased that there was something genuine he could offer the old man who had given him so much.

All he wanted from Alex was the warmth of his arms from time to time. On very rare occasions he would move down to suck Alex off, his mouth efficiently working to give him the most stunning orgasms, before nestling down to sleep beside him. He didn't seem to want anything further from him. He never demanded that Alex reciprocate, and on one occasion, when Alex, orgasm still swirling through his senses, had seized the older man and kissed him with passion, the Brit had gently disengaged himself, stroking his face and telling him that it was OK. He was OK and everything was fine, not to worry himself but just to sleep now. Sleep well, Alex. A brief touch of lips to his and that was all.

He'd watched the interplay between the different members of the consortium and had read the available information about the bases, the laboratories and the locations where the alien presence was known. His excitement had been immense the day he'd hacked into the computer system that laid everything bare. He'd even read each file, avid as a hound on the scent of a fox.....

A Fox.

That had given him an idea and he'd punched in Mulder's name. The file that came up had staggered him.

He read it through then read it again. Finally he'd printed the entire file, carefully sealing it into an envelope, addressing it to himself and rushing out to mail it before he could be detected.

When at last he closed down the system, he'd erased every trace of his electronic presence there. No-one would know.

That very day had been the day the Brit had given him the assignment to go and pass on information to Mulder. He'd given him a number of packages to deliver to the DC base of the consortium, and then sat him down and made him rehearse a speech for Mulder that he required to be delivered verbatim.

Alex had queried the reason for the speech, and the need for Mulder to react to it, but the Brit just smiled and shook his head, pointing to the door. Knowing when to draw the line was a useful skill, and Alex exercised it now as he left the house to go and catch a plane for Washington DC.

He arrived in Washington a little after 4pm, and grabbing a rental car, he headed off to the consortium office where he dropped off his packages. He checked the office to see where the smoker might be, thinking to gloat over him a little. To his chagrin, the office was not only empty, but also free from smoke, free from cigarette butts, and totally devoid of occupants. Finally, he gave up and returned to his car, nerve endings fizzing with excitement at the thought of what he was going to do next. He put his car in gear and headed out towards Alexandria and Mulder's apartment.

Passing through the familiar neighborhoods after so long away, Krycek began to feel a little strange. His mind filled with memories of Mulder, the partner he'd looked up to, casual and sardonic, lying comatose while he, Krycek, had panicked. The angry man, goaded by betrayal until his only outlet was violence casually dispensed and almost gratefully received. A vision of the Mulder in Frankfurt who had drunk himself into a stupor after raping him swam into his vision. He shivered. Mulder had taught him to whore. Mulder had made it necessary for him to do so. Now, Mulder would learn how it felt, maybe not right away, but today would be a start.

Parking besides Mulder's building Alex strode up to the main doors and used the key he'd been given to pass through. Using the elevator, he ascended to the fourth floor and eventually found himself looking at the number 42.

Where's Ford Prefect when you need him? He thought to himself crazily, as he raised his hand and knocked on the door. Nobody answered, but he really hadn't expected an answer. He hadn't seen Mulder's car in the parking lot and he knew it was early for Mulder to be home. He waited a couple of minutes to be sure and then let himself in. The fish tank bubbled in the corner. The couch was the same shabby black leather, and Alex let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Mulder still lived there. Alex would see him very soon. Sick thrills were sliding through his system, and he felt weak at the knees. After this, I'm going to have a vodka, or maybe six. I've earned it, today.

He sat on Mulder's couch, waiting, and then an idea came to him. Quickly scribbling a note on a piece of paper, he placed it carefully on the floor beside the door where it couldn't fail to be seen by someone entering the apartment. His grin as he retreated to the corner away from the door could not by any stretch of the imagination be called nice.

He settled to wait, his memories, such as they were, for company.

As darkness fell, he must have dozed for a short while and it seemed to him that he and Mulder were back in the guest house beside Tunguska and he was screaming "Fuck you, Mulder!" as he drove into him. The sound of a key in the lock brought him to, and he sat up swiftly, sweating, and trembling, so real had been his dream.

Then at last the door had opened, and the man of his dreams, the object of his desire, the person to whom he owed everything he was, entered, and just as if he had read the script, he spotted the note, bending to pick it up.

Alex gathered himself and pounced. Mulder went down with an audible thump, smacking his head on the ground hard. Alex was on top of him, gun pointed into his face, before Mulder had the time to think.

"You must be losing it, Mulder. I can beat you with one hand." Soft, deadly, he waited for Mulder to react to his presence. Mulder, always the loose cannon, never able to resist the smart aleck response even (no, especially) at the point of a gun, was swift in his comeback.

"Isn't that how you like to beat yourself?"

He nearly shot him. He nearly did. The words echoed and rolled around inside Alex's head, and the fury they instilled in him was a live creature, tearing at his vitals.

All he could do was lapse into his carefully rehearsed speech, and the wonder of it was that Mulder didn't seem to care. Alex rolled his tongue around the explanation, savoring the words, and Mulder just sat there. He didn't care any more. What had happened?

He finished his speech. He cast his mind back to see if he had forgotten anything, anything at all, but he hadn't. It was all there, rolled out like a welcome mat for him, and he. Did. Not. Give. A. Damn.

Weird.

He crouched, staring at Mulder, who appeared to have taken root on the floor where he sat hunched against his chair. Finally it dawned on him that this Mulder in front of him was pathetic, a spent force. There was no vengeance needed because time had done it all for him. This man seemed to have nothing left to believe in. A hollow feeling descended on him as he surveyed the empty shell of Fox Mulder.

All that effort. All that time wasted. And now what? Fold my tent and fade into the night, I suppose. My work here is well and truly done. I wonder if he'll go to Wiekamp. Probably not.

He shook his head pityingly and on impulse, leaned forward to press a careful kiss onto the dazed man's cheek. His belly was filled with knots of excitement, and he wondered what reaction that would bring. Then he carefully disarmed himself, setting the safety and allowing the gun he had captured from Mulder to dangle from his forefinger as he extended his hand. Mulder took the gun, but did not otherwise move.

" Udachi tebya, tovarisch." The words might have been meant for himself, so quietly were they spoken. But they were heard, the quick hitch of breath behind him as he turned to leave told him that.

He left. A momentary tingle between the shoulder blades told him that he'd just handed a weapon back to someone who was as likely to shoot him as not. Then he was out the door, returning to his car leaving more questions than answers.

Back in New York, he delivered his report to the Brit who seemed to be quite satisfied with the way things had gone. When Alex tried to describe Mulder's apparent state of mind he merely nodded as if it came as no surprise to him.

He returned to work, losing himself in the mindless practice of running an office. Routine took over, but the Brit was somehow changing. He was seeking Alex out far more frequently now, and not only at night. He began to go through files with him, showing him passwords, telling him of events at which he had previously never guessed.

It didn't take long for Alex to ask him why.

He got nothing satisfactory as an answer, merely a perfunctory statement about the necessity for there being someone on hand who knew how to keep things going.

Alex realized at this point that he was being handed a torch in some obscure way, but he didn't know how or why. He shrugged his shoulders, determined to wait until such time as he would be given the information.

He knew of course that at some stage he would be told what he needed to know. The Brit was away for a few days, and then on his return, suddenly solemn. He called Alex into his office.

"I've been dreading this, but it had to happen sooner or later. Now it's time. Alex, I need you to go and bring the Smoker in for me. There's no need to be particularly gentle with him, but I do need him now." Alex, smiling wolfishly, accepted the folder with the information about the Smoker's whereabouts, and a wallet containing Canadian money. The Brit leaned forward to take Alex's chin in his finger and thumb.

"I want you in charge of this, Alex. It's too important to give to just anyone, but be careful. He's old, and he's survived this long because he's clever, and because he's deadly. Spend what you need to, but fetch him back." The Brit gave Alex's chin a quick, affectionate jerk from side to side, and then before Alex could straighten up again, slid his hand around to cup the back of his head. He pulled him down into a kiss that began as the mere touch of lips, but quickly deepened as the old man slid his tongue inside Alex's mouth. Alex returned the caress. His mind raced as he tried to consider the implications of this.

He doesn't expect me to come back. He thinks the Smoker will kill me.

"I'll bring him back, sir. Don't have any fears on that count." Alex smiled at the old man and was touched to see the concern reflected in his eyes. He touched the old man's cheek, turned and left the office.

Six hours later, waiting to board a Cessna with his two companions, he checked his parachute again, and itemized his cold weather gear.

The Smoker turned out to be in Canada, holed up somewhere in the frozen reaches of Quebec. There were no roads, and Alex was feeling like Powerful Pierre as he laid his plans. He had chartered the small plane and called upon the services of a couple of old acquaintances to assist him in his task. Tricky as the Smoker evidently was, he, Alex, would be trickier.

Boarding the plane, he sat back in his seat, nodding. It had taken him an hour or two to set things up, and another hour to get from New York to Montreal. Now here he was, and he was going to bring back the Smoker for his boss. He would hog-tie and brand the bugger if it became necessary.

He and the Cessna pilot had gone over the chart very carefully together and had carefully formulated a plan. The plane taxied down the runway, the pilot opened the throttle, and they were suddenly up in the air leaving their stomachs behind as they soared up, and North. It was getting close to the spring melt but there was still plenty of snow to be seen as they flew on over forest and lake. It was not long before they were flying over the place the Brit. had identified as his target's headquarters.

They circled a couple of times while they agreed on a rendezvous point, and then Alex gave his companion a nod, pulled open the plane door, and stepped out into the cold, windy sky.

He loved this feeling. He just plain loved it to death as he fell, subject to gravity but unafraid as he dropped. He stretched out his limbs as he gave himself to the air, then all too soon his parachute opened and he was hanging under the bell of it, watching for the man who should be following.

The ground rose up to him and he began to prepare himself for its kiss. He had his gun slung in its holster positioned between his shoulder blades, and as the ground finally claimed him, he shucked the parachute, rolling it loosely and stashing it onveniently. He drew his weapon then, watching in approval as his cohort made his landing close by.

The other man made his way through the knee-deep snow to knock on the cabin door. The sound of the shotgun blast was astonishing in the still air, and Alex saw his companion fold gracefully as he took the blast in his chest. The bastard had fired through the door.

Alex wondered whether the man got much mail. In a mad vision, he pictured the snow melting to reveal the blasted bodies of letter carriers and Avon ladies who had strayed too close.

Gently, this is not the time or place for silliness. You want to get back alive, don't you?

The door cracked open and Alex reflexively dove for cover just before the gun was fired once again.

He worked his way under the cover of snow-clad bushes and outbuildings and finally, with a sick surge of adrenaline, realized that he was looking at the back of the Smoker's head. He leveled his gun, pointed it and stood up.

The Smoker turned and the look of defeat on his face was so sweet that Alex wanted to kiss the man. Instead, he removed his ski mask, permitting the old bastard to know just who it was that had captured him.

"I was sent to bring you back."

The week after Alex had returned to New York with the Smoker, the Brit informed him that they would be moving the office back to Washington DC. Alex was to supervise the packing and transporting of the files while the Brit would fly on ahead. He'd appeared quiet and morose for the last few days and Alex had tried a couple of times to ask him what was the matter. The old man had merely placed a hand on Alex's shoulder and shaken his head. Alex had retreated to his computer, wading through file after file in an attempt to discover what was happening. He could find nothing untoward.

Moving day arrived and Alex closed the office for the last time, taking a final look around at a place where he had been if not happy, then at least content.

The following evening he arrived in Washington with his precious cargo of files, and pulled up outside a large house, set behind gates in a quiet neighborhood. As he supervised the unloading of the office he waited for his mentor to appear. When at last he did, Alex felt suddenly afraid. The old man seemed older and frailer than ever. Alex had jumped to his feet and gone to the old man, intent on receiving a welcome. The Brit had smiled briefly and led him down the hallway to a conservatory at the back of the house. There, he had been invited to sit down on the rattan couch amidst the riot of greenery, and offered a drink.

"You've been very useful to me, Alex, most useful. I'm very happy with the way you've worked out. I need to warn you that things are going to be changing very soon and you need to be ready." The old man paused to take a drink and Alex, who had heard him out in silence so far, frowned, watching the liquor as he swirled it around in his glass.

"When you say changes, sir, what do you mean?" His husky voice hung in the air between them, and he suddenly felt a stab of fear when the Brit did not answer immediately. He dropped to his knees in front of the old man, a slim, muscled figure in jeans and work-shirt. Sliding his arms around the old man's shoulders, he pulled him in for a hug, pressing his lips up against the wrinkled neck. He thought he would receive the usual, polite rebuff, but instead the Brit hugged him back and there they remained, taking comfort from each other as the darkness drew in. Finally, the Brit began to speak.

"I've made provision for you. This house is my legacy to you, and the deeds, along with everything else you need to know, are in this safety deposit box." The old man handed Alex a key with a fob that had an address and a serial number on it. "You'll have it all then, Alex. Everything you wanted with one exception. I really can't permit you to do anything that will harm Fox Mulder. He is, as you'll see, most important to the continuing of humanity on this planet."

Alex mulled over his words in silence. Now didn't seem to be the time to start protesting that he was no longer seeking revenge. The man he had been had wanted revenge. The man he was now merely wanted things to continue the way they were. He gently stroked the old man's hair and then covered his mouth with his lips, tenderly kissing him, trying to convey to him the way he felt, gratitude, admiration and affection all combining to leave no room for the negatives.

The Brit did not push him away this time. He kissed him back with a sudden intensity that rocked Alex to his shoes. His mouth was warm and firm, and it had been a long time since Alex had been kissed like this. The man had, for all intents and purposes, saved his life, and Alex would give him anything, knowing that whatever he gave would not be enough to repay him.

They finally released each other and Alex curled to sit at the old man's feet, permitting him to stroke and pet his hair as they talked. There was a pause, and then slowly, the old man began to tell him about the alien invasion. He left out nothing. Alex hadn't realized just how far reaching the invasion was, or how long the struggle against it had been waged.

When the Brit finally related the facts about the battle for supremacy within the Consortium itself, everything fell in place for Alex. At last he could see how very stupid he had been all those years ago when he'd believed he could mold events to suit his own agenda.

Finally, the old man told Alex how short a time he had left. He didn't expect to be allowed to live for very much longer. It suddenly dawned on Alex at what cost he'd purchased his new life. He didn't love this man. Strike that. He did. He loved him as a father, better than a father in some ways. He'd been given so much, and had nothing to offer in return. He pressed his cheek into the other man's thigh and bit back tears.

When the old man finally noticed how very bright Alex's eyes had become he put one negligent finger under Alex's chin to turn his face up, and leaned forward to drop kisses onto those eyes.

"Tears for me, Alex? That's more than I ever could have hoped for. Thank you." Then, without any further word, the old man had set him aside and left the house.

Alex slept alone that night, as usual.

2.4: Frost and Fire

Spring was beginning to bud, and over the next week, Alex continued his duties. Nothing further was said by his employer about an impending assassination attempt. Alex put the conversation they had shared to the back of his mind. He wasn't prepared for the phone to ring just as he was getting ready for bed. The Smoker, sounding as oily and unruffled as ever, gave him the news.

There had been an explosion. His boss, his friend, his mentor was no more. The torch had been passed.

Alex went to bed to lie awake all night, dry eyed, mourning for the loss of his more-than-friend. As the dawn broke, revealing a fine rain hanging like beaded curtains over the city, he rose, dressed and headed downtown with the key he'd been given.

When he finally opened the safety deposit box, its contents amazed him. He was now a wealthy man and the shock of it left him reeling. The information he'd found in that box gave him power. It made him unbeatable. Now he, Alex Krycek, would be able to help shape events to his liking.

He'd become a player.

Back in his office once more he punched in encryption codes he'd never thought to try. First his own name, then his birthday, and the flicker of files unlocking for him carried its own rush. The old man had loved him. That was plain. He must have loved him and Alex wouldn't let him down now. He began to read.

The Smoker called him again, just as he was finishing up and thinking about lunch.

"Fox Mulder is on his way to Antarctica right this minute."

"Who's the fool who allowed that to happen?"

"You know Mulder. Once he has an idea in his head it would take dynamite to shift it. We can't allow him to jeopardize the work of 30 years. Scully has been abducted yet again. Can you fix it?" For a wonder Alex could hear anxiety in the Smoker's voice. He thought for a minute.

"Where is he headed? Give me the co-ordinates." The ping that notified him he had new mail was incredibly satisfying. He'd just given orders to the Smoker.

And the Smoker had obeyed.

"I'll need a plane, cold weather gear...." Alex had begun to reel off his requirements, talking his way through this mission even though it seemed impossible at first sight. "D'you have him visible by satellite?" Alex was smiling now. He was needed. This bastard who had tried repeatedly to have him killed was treating him like an equal. He loved it!

He moved swiftly though the house, locking, packing, putting things away even as he gathered details from the Smoker. There was nothing here that he couldn't live without. Let the Consortium break in and take it all. His own files were all in his laptop, and safely concealed somewhere he knew they would never find them.

He had a sudden thought and made his way to the Brit's bedroom. He'd never actually been there before. His mentor had always come to him. He looked around, burning the image into his memory. His eyes fixed on a photograph in a silver frame, set beside the bed. It showed Alex laughing up at the old man, and his eyes misted as he recalled the details of the night it had been taken. They'd been to dinner and the photographer had caught them sharing a silly joke. At that time he'd only been in his employer's service for about three weeks and he still had that wild look in his eyes even though he was laughing. He thought back to how he had felt, half tame, suspicious of everything. Taking everything that was offered in huge, greedy bites for fear that it would all be snatched away from him.

He sat down on the old man's bed and prized the back of the frame loose, sliding the photograph out to take with him. To his amazement there was an envelope behind the hardboard backing, an envelope with his name on it. His fingers shook as he took hold of the envelope, allowing the frame and the picture it had held to slip onto the coverlet.

He turned it over in his hands, studying the name that stood out on the white paper, written in fine, old-fashioned copperplate handwriting. His eyes blurred and he used his sleeve to dash away the moisture before ripping open the envelope. Inside was a list of names, a certified check for a million dollars made payable to him, and a letter.

It was dated the previous week, and Alex closed his eyes, racking his brains to remember anything out of the ordinary about that day. An image of the two of them, the old man thanking him for his tears, rose up in his mind and those tears that had only threatened, suddenly burst on him now. Alex wept. He wept, holding the letter in his one hand and finally throwing himself full length onto the old man's bed as the tears flowed.

A little later, eyes reddened, and nose running, he had turned to his letter, reading its contents:

Dear Alex:

In many ways I am saddened that you did not come into my life until so late. You have been a joy to me and for that I want to thank you. The house is yours. The money is yours and is quite separate from my estate. I trust you to see this thing through to the end, and want you to know that there is no-one else I would rather see in control. You have come a long way in a very short space of time, and I admire you. It has been a privilege to know you.

All my love to you, Alex,
Thomas Meredith

Alex had never known his name, never seen it written or heard it spoken. During the months he had been with the old man he'd never heard him addressed as anything other than sir. Now there was this gift for him, and the gift was his name.

Alex paused by the dresser and took up the heavy gold signet ring that lay there. He slid it onto the plastic of his left hand, took up his photograph and his envelope with its exciting contents, and left, closing the door neatly behind him.

Several hours later he was on an executive jet heading for Tierra Del Fuego, and from there to Antarctica to rescue a man he had little or no reason to love.

He slept a good deal of the way, waking to eat and drink before zoning out once more as the plane traversed South America. On reaching the base on Tierra Del Fuego he'd transferred to a Hercules, slow and noisy, that would take him the rest of the way.

Now his palm pilot was indicating that Fox Mulder was somewhere down there beneath him, although Alex could not immediately see where. The plane circled a number of Quonset huts and a lone Snow Cat that stood some distance from the base. Alex began to put on his parachute, then checked the fuel he had brought, the pod containing warm clothing and supplies, and the chutes that would see them safely to the ground.

At that point, the world turned abruptly upside-down.

They had noted some activity as they approached. Vehicles appeared to be scurrying away from the base and there were aircraft scrambling without warning. Alex gazed in total astonishment as the ice below them began to surge, fall in and then bubble up. He screamed orders to the pilot, who veered away from the crazily shifting landscape. As they watched, a huge disk appeared from out of the confusion. It rose to hover above them, and then, with a sound vaguely like a balloon bursting it was gone.

Alex remained transfixed for a few moments more and then suddenly remembered Mulder. God! Where the hell is Mulder?

Consulting the GPS tracking system in his Palm Pilot he quickly narrowed the area he needed to search. Finally, the Hercules flew over the two small figures below on the ice. Alex nodded, happy now, gave directions to circle again and launched the fuel cans as they approached the stationary Snow Cat he had spotted earlier. Finally, as the plane approached the figures below him once again he put on his ski mask, pulled on goggles, put up his hood, and launched himself.

This is getting to be a habit, throwing myself out of aircraft into heaps of snow.

The cold hit him despite the warm gear he was wearing. A glimpse of his ex-partner on the ice below him made Alex shiver in sympathy. The man was apparently not wearing anything in the way of a coat.

Alex landed and ditched the chute, running as best he could towards the two still figures on the ice. The pod had fallen quite near and Alex hooked it clumsily as he ran. As he arrived beside them he knelt to open the case, flinging snow suits, boots and ski masks to them.

Mulder, blue and shaking, did not question this largess, merely inserting himself into a snowsuit and then attempting to wrestle Scully, lying comatose, into another. Alex moved to assist and between them they managed to get Scully into the warm clothes. It occurred to Alex as they worked, that Mulder had not yet seen Alex's face and had no idea who he might be. He grinned under his ski mask and considered how best to keep it that way. Things would be so much simpler.

He and Mulder between them managed to convey Scully to the Snow Cat and inside to shelter. They managed by dint of teamwork to fuel up the big machine and climbed on board. Krycek waved Mulder back to tend to Scully when the federal agent, still blue with cold but grimly determined to do it all, looked as if he was going to attempt to drive them out of there. It had been easy to overpower Mulder, to make him sit down beside Scully. It gave him a really happy feeling to assert his will over the generally intractable Mulder.

Even in a situation like this he still thinks he ought to drive, macho fuck! Alex chuckled briefly to himself as he turned the cat in the direction of the rendezvous point.

His small computer was announcing the imminent break up of the fine weather and threatening a storm to follow when Alex finally drew the Cat up at the way station where the Hercules was awaiting their arrival. Mulder and Scully were both sleeping, and Alex hopped out of the Cat to go and round up his pilot and the equipment he required to get them all back. Once he was organized he drew his pistol as insurance, tucking it into his belt where he could access it readily, and went to fetch Mulder. He had kept on his ski mask, hoping it would grant him anonymity for a little while longer. He didn't want Mulder to recognize him just yet.

Shaking the sleeping Mulder until he opened one bleary eye, and then shaking him still more violently, he made the man rise to his feet, where he stood as uncertainly as a boxer who had just risen from a count of eight, rocking back and forth on unsteady feet. Gesturing to him for assistance he began to manhandle Scully down from the cat and across the ice to the plane that was warming up even as he worked. After a few minutes, Mulder caught on, and between the two of them they succeeded in transferring the tiny redhead from the Cat to the plane. Alex closed the door and turned to pass through to the cockpit, but Mulder, always master of the in-your-face intrusion, stepped into his path.

"I guess I have to thank you, whoever you are...Who are you anyway? I wasn't aware that AAA made house calls to Antarctica." Krycek made a thumbs up, touched his own lips and moved past him, indicating that he should seat himself and fasten his belt ready for take off. Mulder followed him, and was about to take hold of his shoulder when Alex, irritated, enervated, chilly and exhausted turned and sank his fist into Mulder's solar plexus. Mulder grunted and doubled up in a very satisfactory manner, and Krycek took the hypodermic he had prepared, stuck the needle into Mulder and sent him to dreamland for the duration of the ride.

Sighing, he strapped them all into their places and with great relief removed the ski mask and the heavy top clothes he had retained in the interests of remaining incognito. Seconds later they were airborne. He'd done it. He'd pulled the Consortium out of the fire one more time. Mulder would live and the possibility of resistance against the invasion still remained. He lay back and finally slept.

On arrival back in DC, Alex brushed off the smoker and the medics that were awaiting him. The Smoker followed him, trying to gain some inkling of events that he had experienced on his mission.

Alex was tired, his nerves jangling. He shrugged and walked away from the Smoker. He was fed up with the red tape with which he was suddenly surrounded, and turned to leave, but then an idea suddenly occurred and he turned to go back to where the medics were still checking out the two heavily sedated FBI agents.

He approached the doctor who was checking Mulder out. "Is he okay?" The words were caring, but the voice was carefully expressionless - neutral.

"Oh sure. He's gonna have a little skin peeling but he's in pretty good shape all things considered. He's as strong as an ox." Alex grinned, and then turned to the Smoker, who had followed him.

"I want him for two days, then you can have him back. I earned him. Give him to me." The smoker smiled, a wintry, knowing smile.

"I have no need of Mr. Mulder right at this moment. If you give your word that he will suffer no permanent malaise... " The voice oozed over Alex making his hackles rise.

"I'll give you nothing. If you think I pulled him out of there just so I could cut him up or something I don't suppose there is anything I can say that will change your mind. This man owes me and I want to collect a little something on account. Then you can have him back, safe, and possibly even sound." Alex fixed a hard, cat-like stare on the Smoker as he spoke, and to his great delight the man looked away and finally nodded. He then turned to the medic and nodded towards the unconscious Mulder.

"Have Mr. Mulder conveyed to Mr. Krycek's residence, please. He will be assisting in the aftercare in this case. Please convey Miss Scully to the hospital, she will require more serious treatment." The elderly man turned away, nodding over his shoulder at Alex as he left.

Alex was left feeling triumphant, but irritated as he watched the Smoker out of the room. Turning, he surveyed the reclining Mulder as he lay on a stretcher with thermal blankets wrapped around him. Beckoning for the attendants to bring him, Alex strode out to the waiting ambulance.

He had them put Mulder into his own bed. Once the paramedics had departed, he had first stripped Mulder and then cuffed him, wrapping the handcuffs around the brass of his headboard. Then he'd brought in a tray containing the items he would need and settled himself alongside Mulder to await his return to consciousness. He was feeling jittery, excited. He had no idea what he intended to do with this man who had been the author of so much distress in his life, but he wanted beyond anything to have Mulder realize how badly his actions had harmed him. He wanted to see Mulder's eyes when Alex made him aware of all the things he had gotten him into through his casual violence and his poorly managed anger.

He lay on his left side, watching Mulder, his eyes avid for any signs there might be of the other man's return to consciousness.

The sleeping Mulder was beautiful despite bruises and scratches, despite the cold burns that had seared his skin, causing his lips to crack and his skin to peel and discolor. Alex reached for his tray, taking lip balm and smoothing it onto the sleeping man's mouth. Satisfied with the effect it produced, he next took a pot of medicated skin lotion and began to apply it, first to Mulder's face and neck and then, rolling down the duvet he worked the stuff into Mulder's arms and chest.

As he smoothed and massaged the other man's skin he became aware of changes in Mulder's breathing as he emitted a moan, licking at his lips with a dry, swollen tongue. Alex's heart thumped in his chest. Mulder was waking up. He reached for the water he had placed on the tray and inserted his prosthetic hand somewhat clumsily behind Mulder's head, raising it a little as he brought the water to Mulder's lips. The man's lips worked reflexively, and he drank deeply, finally shaking his head slightly to indicate that he was all done. His brow furrowed slightly as he realized that he had limited arm movement, and finally he opened his eyes.

At first it was obvious that he was baffled. Puzzlement crawled on the surface of his features like so many ants at a picnic. He looked around somewhat wildly, testing his bonds as he did so.

When he finally caught sight of Alex he froze, his mouth set in an O of surprise as Alex put out a hand to brush Mulder's hair back from his face.

To give the man credit, when he finally spoke, voice rusty from disuse, it was to ask about Scully. Alex could see his thought processes at work very clearly as the side to side movement of his eyes betrayed his search for an escape route.

"Agent Scully is perfectly safe. She's in the hospital, receiving treatment for exposure among other things. She'll be out in a day or two." Alex spoke calmly, dispassionately, and could see Mulder relax partway. "Are you feeling nauseous? Would you like something to eat?"

It was awhile before Mulder answered him, but finally he nodded, adding plaintively that he was thirsty. Alex held the water bottle for him once again, allowing his thumb to drag over Mulder's lower lip as he placed the neck to his mouth. As the man drank again, Alex continued to caress his face with his thumb.

"Krycek, why? ...What are you doing?" Mulder sounded confused still, rather than angry, and Alex smiled sweetly at him. Here it came now and he was ready. He was more than ready.

"I thought you would benefit from a little lesson, Mulder. You'll be staying here with me for the next couple of days and we're going to be discussing consequences. Would you like some soup?" Alex's question had come out of the blue and clearly caught Mulder off guard. He paused, stunned before nodding again.

"Yeah, feed me, Krycek. I never could think about morals and stuff on an empty stomach." The scathingly sarcastic tone indicated the start of Mulder's recovery. He appeared to think that there were no threats to him from this man who lay beside him on the bed. Alex nodded to himself and pulled the lid from a flask of soup he had brought upstairs on the tray. Pouring the liquid into a cup he held it up to Mulder's mouth, and for a while the two of them were silent as Alex tended to his captive. Finally Alex put down the cup and gently wiped the chapped lips. Mulder could hold back no longer.

"Okay, Krycek, what's on your mind?" His gaze challenged Alex who felt the irritation creeping up on him once more. He rose from his position on the bed and paced the floor as he tried to calm himself.

"I'm thinking back to a time when our positions were reversed. I'm remembering what you did to me and I'm thinking that it's time you paid me back." Mulder's eyes widened as he took in the implications of this threat. He could recall how he had treated Krycek all too vividly, and he was not at all anxious to be reminded of the things he had done. "48 hours... You wanted my compliance for 48 hours, and to be fair that's exactly what I want from you." He spoke quietly, gently, and was aware of the effect he was having on the man in the bed who was now beginning to look apprehensive to say the least.

"What are you going to do if I say yes?" The words were blurted out. Alex could tell that Mulder was afraid now.

"Oh no, Mulder, that's not how this game is played. You get no guarantees, other than the one you gave me. Stay with me and do what I want for 48 hours and then I'll let you go." Alex's smile would have cut glass at this point, and Mulder shuddered involuntarily, his mind sliding back to recall the way he had treated Krycek on their mad race to Tunguska. He remembered the misery and pain that Alex had endured at his hands and felt his belly turn cold with fear.

Alex busied himself tidying up the tray and seemed to have no excitement or curiosity as he stacked the empty cups and pots onto it. However, when Mulder cleared his throat, he turned towards him, and the avid light in his eyes betrayed his keen interest.

"I guess I owe you this?" The questioning tone in Mulder's voice brought another hard smile from Alex.

"I'd say you owed me at least this. Have you come to any decision yet?" Mulder fell silent and Alex picked up the tray from the side if the bed and moved it over to a small table beside the door before returning to resume his place on the bed beside Mulder. He watched Mulder for a little while, raising one eyebrow at him.

"Okay, time's a-wasting, Mulder. What's it to be?" After a pause during which Alex thought that Mulder was going to prove intractable, the man on the bed nodded. Alex let go the breath he didn't know he had been holding, and felt in his pockets for the key to the handcuffs. He found it and swung it idly around his finger as he leaned down to look Mulder in the eyes.

"I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you tell just what I had to say to you. Tell me that you're mine to follow every order for the next two days, and that you'll do exactly what I tell you to do at all times. Tell me that you won't try to escape. Tell me." His voice remained quiet, but the intensity grew as he spoke and he was now virtually hissing the words into Mulder's face. Mulder's eyes were wide and he was suddenly afraid, Alex could tell from the sudden sweat that beaded Mulder's forehead. He truly thought at that point that Mulder would lose his nerve, but as Alex finished talking, Mulder shrugged, fatalistically and began to recite.

"I will follow your orders. I won't try to escape. I'll follow your orders and after 2 days I can leave?"

"That's the deal, Mulder. You gonna take it?" Alex's eyes were blank walls, and his voice hit the words like blows, each delivered separately, each one hard and heavy.

Mulder nodded once, and when Alex kept on looking at him, expression unchanging, he finally spoke his assent.

"Yes."

And then seemed to shrink as he uttered the word that bound him.

Alex cast his mind back to that afternoon on board the Star of Russia when he'd been given an ultimatum, and accepted it, being forced to trust the person giving it to him without guarantees. He recalled the assault on his sexuality that at the time had both excited and disgusted him. He wondered why, in the light of his subsequent behavior, the old man had done that to him. He eyed Mulder speculatively and rolled back the bedclothes, raking him up and down with his eyes.

Mulder's body was slim, firm and muscled, with straight limbs. A sprinkling of hair on his chest leading like a pointer down to the center of his body, where his penis lay nestled amongst the tight curls.

Alex had never really examined Mulder before. His dislike and anger had clouded his vision on the road to Tunguska. Now he could study the other man without the hatred he had felt in the beginning and he finally saw how well made Fox Mulder actually was.

Earlier, he'd applied lotion to the man's face and torso. Now he reached for the bottle and began to smooth it onto the still captive man's feet, moisturizing the burned, dead skin, and soothing the blisters that his encounter with the cold had inflicted on him.

Throughout this Mulder remained silent, relaxing into the attention he was being given. When Alex finally screwed the cap back on the bottle, Mulder was watching him in puzzlement, obviously trying to comprehend his captor's motives, and equally obviously failing to do so.

Profiler at work, hmmm? Well, let him stew. I'm not going to offer him clues. He's mine for now and that's enough.

Alex leaned forward, unlocking the cuffs and permitting Mulder to bring his arms down, where he lay rubbing them to get the circulation back into them.

Okay, Krycek, what are you going to do to me?" Mulder's voice challenged Alex and it took him a moment to realize that his challenge masked a fear of the unknown. Alex felt a surge of something curiously close to tenderness. He'd never before entertained the idea of this arrogant, foolhardy, sometimes suicidally rash man experiencing fear.

Interesting.

He looked the man up and down, noting with mild interest that his penis was thickening a little, and filing away the notion that fear made Mulder horny.

"Relax, Mulder, I thought we'd start with a little talk, a little show and tell. First of all, how are you feeling? Do you want to stay in bed, or would you prefer to get dressed and take it downstairs?" Alex's voice was still mild, and Mulder, as Alex had known he would, opted for getting up.

He feels too vulnerable, lying there naked in front of me. That's good. Mulder was as restless as ever, and Alex watched benignly as Mulder rolled to sitting, but after watching him stagger and stumble, he moved to assist and support him as far as the bathroom.

Once there, Alex got the shower going. Mulder sat down limply on the toilet seat and watched him with real gratitude. Alex steadied the other man as he climbed into the shower and waited, lost in thought as he applied soap and shampoo, groaning in pleasure as the warm water sluiced over his limbs. He remained in the shower for a long time permitting the water to ease away the aches and pains of his recent ordeal. When he turned the water off at last Alex helped him out of the tub, wrapping a large, fluffy towel around him and assisting him to a seat. For a moment he swayed, and Alex found himself trying to support Mulder until he could ease him to sitting on the toilet seat. Mulder was looking up at him, eyes blank with effort and fatigue. It seemed very natural at that moment that Alex should lean forward and touch his lips to those of the man seated before him.

Time seemed to stop as they felt their mouths connect. Alex seemed dazed, and remained still, his lips on Mulder's. Mulder, however, groaned and stretched his arms up to pull Alex's face down into a deeper, more passionate kiss.

Alex dropped to his knees in front of Mulder, allowing the seated man to deepen the kiss still further, slipping his tongue into Alex's mouth and pulling him in close to press against his body. Alex could feel himself becoming aroused even as he asked himself what the hell he was doing. His right arm tentatively circled Mulder's waist and he slowly allowed his mouth to open fully, accepting the exploration of the inside of his mouth as Mulder held him, hands stroking his back, his hair, and his neck.

He'd been so lonely. So fucking lonely.

But this wasn't about Alex feeling freedom from loneliness, this was about Fox Mulder realizing that he'd caused untold pain and suffering. Soft lips, a sweet, nimble tongue and the bristle of his rough chin were not what Alex should be thinking of right now.

He slowly eased back and disengaged himself from Mulder. When Mulder would have pulled him back, seeking his mouth again, Alex pushed him away sharply with a quickly barked "No!"

He wasn't sure what he'd done, or why. He stood indecisively in the bathroom and tried to sort out his feelings. His cock had leaped inside his pants, and was sending out thrills of lust. He felt as if someone had removed the area centered around his belly button with an ice cream scoop and left some strange, perverse species of humming bird in its place.

Mulder sat forlornly on the lid of the toilet and watched Alex's obvious discomfort. Standing there, the picture of abject misery, Alex was unsure whether to stay or go. Finally, Mulder found his voice.

"Krycek...Alex?" His voice was curiously gentle as he pushed himself to his feet and stepped forward to put his arms around Alex. He didn't try to kiss him, merely pulling him in to rest against him, laying his head on Alex's shoulder while he held him tightly, very tightly.

They stood like that, arms about each other, while Alex took comfort from the other man. Mulder, confused but willing, stroked Alex gently and slowly rocked him from side to side. For Alex, the feelings he was experiencing were nearly intolerable as he inhaled the scent of the freshly showered Mulder. He was confused. He'd hated and despised this man, and then he'd pitied him. Finally, he'd discarded him as a spent force. He'd brought him here to teach the bastard a lesson.

So why did I kiss him?

Alex's lips were still tingling and his belly seemed as if it didn't belong to him. He stood in the warmth of Mulder's embrace and wondered what the hell was happening to him. It felt to him as if the heat from a star was concentrated in the ache and burn of his cock, pressed up against the man who held him. His denim jeans chafed him unbearably. He wanted to rip the towel off Mulder and shuck his own protective skin. He wanted to run his hands over this body, now at his disposal. He wanted to...

Oh. God, I can't. Not while he's bound to me. That would make me as bad as him.

With a heavy sigh, he backed away from Mulder, turned and went back into the bedroom, followed by Mulder who was now completely confused. Alex moved swiftly to his closet and found sweats for Mulder, tossing them at him as he left the room.

He strode blindly back to the old man's room and closed the door behind him. Sitting on the bed once more he tried to analyze what was happening to him. This man had raped him, raped him savagely. He'd beaten him too, and finally put him in a position where he'd been maimed before he had left him.

He hadn't attempted to verify whether Alex was living or dead. Alex could remember the hatred he'd felt for him, but when he tried to recapture the feeling of anger he associated with thoughts of Fox Mulder, all he could think of was the feeling of cool lips on his and the hot tongue that had just pierced through his defenses.

His cock stood stiff and straight to attention

Bloody hell! How am I going to walk with that?

And he could feel that it wasn't going to go away just like that. Sighing, he stood up and pushed down his jeans, allowing it to flop free.

He'd pretty much steered clear of sex since coming to live with the old man, and that had been good. He'd learned how it felt to own himself once again. He'd regained his self-respect as he regained control over who had access to his body. It was his body. He had the power to say no and recently he'd exercised it. There had been people that had wanted him, some who'd made offers to him, but none of whom he wanted.

Now, all of a sudden, his body was turning traitor. It wanted an orgasm. It wanted to fuck.

It wanted Mulder.

It wanted to feel those finely sculpted lips locked to his. It wanted the sudden rush of heated sensation it had just experienced. It wanted more. It wanted to pound itself inside Mulder until it exploded, and unbidden, the images rose up of Mulder lying beneath him in the guest house the day before they found the camp at Tunguska.

He studied himself in the mirror. He knew he was pretty, and in the past few years he'd become expert at seduction. He'd sold himself for many things, money, information, safety all had their price. The one thing he'd never known was love. He believed that he wasn't capable of love. Even with the Brit he'd known that he didn't love him, that his affection had been more about gratitude than about romance.

So, why was he sitting here, with his cock pointing to the heavens like some kind of outlandish meter of his emotional state?

A fuckometer!

He took hold of it and the damned thing drooled at him, pulsing a little in response to his touch. Frowning, he smeared the resulting moisture over it and began to slide his hand up and down its length, watching himself in the mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed.

Sighing, he added saliva to his palm and grasped his cock again, squeezing hard on the base of it before sliding his palm up to the ridge below the head, circling, pulling, sliding and then returning to circle once again. He could see his own hand at work, and he could feel the sensations building as he stroked himself. His balls had drawn up tight below the red-purple length of his prick. The skin blurred and crawled, arranging itself into neat ridges. He wished... he wished so badly for another hand. He wished for Mulder's mouth. Fox Mulder kneeling in front of him to slide those pretty, moist, cocksucking lips over his cock and down, down to the very base. He could feel Mulder sucking, tongue swirling and it was good. It was more than good. Sweet heavens, he wanted it as he pulled on himself and his tension built.

He could see himself in the mirror, jeans around his ankles, legs akimbo and hands moving steadily on his dick as the purple head oozed moisture, slide and circle, slide and circle. His chest heaved, and his face, flushed with his excitement was tilted back as his spine arched. His eyelids were drooping at half-mast, and his lower lip was captured between white teeth as he felt himself drawing closer and closer.

Oh, God, the tension was building in thigh and buttock and he felt the stirring in his balls, first as a whisper, then as a shout and finally as a fist, punching the heat and the desire and the sweet, impossible, silken tingle. At last he came, with the flooding rush of outrageous, self-annihilating release as semen flew, white, glistening droplets to rain on his ex-employer's mercifully hardwood floor.

He'd cried out, and he suspected that the name he'd yelled was Mulder's. His face was flushed with the telltale signs of his recent orgasm. His cheeks glowed, and his bitten lower lip looked bruised and vulnerable to him. Reaching for a tissue, he cleaned himself up and pulled his clothes back into some semblance of order. He was trembling, but at least he was no longer hard, and he felt as if he would be able to stay in control now, at least for a little while.

Dammit, Mulder, ever since I met you you've fucked with me, both literally and figuratively. Why can't I just put you behind me and move on?

2.5: Don't Stand So Close to Me

He wandered into the old man's bathroom and showered quickly, then put his denims back on, combed his hair and went in search of Mulder. He found him stretched out on his bed. Lying on his belly with his feet kicked up high, he was leafing through one of Alex's books. Mulder looked up at Alex.

"Krycek, this is your room, isn't it? I don't want to take your room." He'd obviously been looking around, checking out the contents of the drawers and cupboards. Alex was sure he couldn't have missed the two prosthetic arms that lay in the closet. One had been given to him immediately after the amputation for purely cosmetic reasons. The second had been a replacement after the lengthy surgery he'd endured. It was still clumsy, but had at least been made to fit his stump and hadn't been so painful to wear. They'd both been superseded by the arm he now wore. It was very new and he was still learning to use it. It had been bought for him by the Brit, who'd told Alex when sending him for fittings, that he required Alex to be as fully functional as he could be. At the time, Alex had laughed and said something flippant about Star Trek and Data, but he'd been grateful, even when the clasp of it on his arm bruised, and chafed, and caused his skin to blister.

The new prosthesis was a marvel of microtechnology and permitted Alex to make movements he'd thought lost forever. He no longer required cumbersome straps that bound and chafed, impairing the grace of his movement. Now, a sleeve fitted snugly onto his stump and to all intents and purposes he had a new arm.

Mulder's eyes were fixed on him, and Krycek brought his mind back to the present.

"Mulder, you'll take my room because I say you will. You're to follow my instructions, remember?" Alex beckoned Mulder out of the room and together they descended the staircase into the kitchen. The maid had prepared lasagna, salad, garlic bread and steamed vegetables, and all Alex had to do was lay them out on the table. He proceeded to do just that, and finally the two of them began to eat. Mulder chewed silently for a few minutes before laying down his fork.

"What do you have planned for me? Are you going to rape me, Alex? Are you going to do it to me the way I did it to you?" Alex glanced up from his plate. He'd heard a tone of regret in his prisoner's voice, and felt unsure again. His groin was stirring too, despite his recent activity, and he ruthlessly suppressed any twinges of desire he was feeling.

"As always, you go straight to the heart of the matter. I don't intend to rape you, Mulder. I don't plan on causing you any harm at all. I just want to show you the way that the things you did affected me." Alex was quiet. Mulder had to strain to hear the words as he spoke them. "Did you know when you abandoned me in the forest that those moujhiks would hack off my arm? They did, you know. They waited until I was sleeping and then held me down and hacked it off with a red-hot blade. Do you want to see?"

One-handed, he began to unbutton the denim shirt he wore, slipping out of it to reveal his naked torso. Mulder put his palms flat on the table and half-rose as if to leave, but then slowly relaxed. As Alex began to release the mechanism that held his prosthetic arm in place, Mulder sagged back down into his seat with a look of sick horror on his face. At last, as Alex laid the prosthesis across his knee, Mulder could see the truly sickening thing that had been done to him. He could see the scars, the blisters from the prosthesis, and the reddened patches where it chafed white skin. As Alex looked on, he saw the remote look in Mulder's eyes, and watched him bow his head. A moment later, Mulder's shoulders began to shake and Alex realized the other man was weeping.

Quickly fastening his arm back in place, he put his shirt back on and began to clear away the dishes, covering the leftover food and putting it into the refrigerator. Taking a bowl of fruit salad out of the fridge, he placed it on the table.

"Dessert?"

Mulder glumly shook his head and sat, dull-eyed and unresponsive. Alex helped himself to a little of the fruit and glanced at Mulder, trying to gauge the honesty of the man's response.

Mulder finally looked up again, evidence of grief still on his face, and seeing Alex watching him intently, tried to explain.

"The man in the cell next to me told me you were betraying me. He told me you were bailing out and leaving me. You had no reason to stay with me any more and I saw you hugging the soldier. You were going to escape and leave me behind." Mulder's voice was loud in the quiet of the house, impinging on Alex's ear like a wild animal crying in the night.

"Mulder, that soldier... that soldier was the camp supervisor. I fucked him just to get us a safe passage out of there. It was the first time I ever let someone screw me for what I could get out of it. He was going to drive us out that night if you could have waited just a little while longer." Alex turned his intense, green gaze on Mulder and again had the satisfaction of seeing his face crumple. "Once you'd received the shots and gained immunity from possession by the black oil there was no longer any reason for us to be there. We would have been away from there and back in Frankfurt the next day."

Mulder was quiet. One might even have thought he was in shock. He sat, stunned, while Alex cleared the table, filled the dishwasher and set it going. The maid had left for the day and the house was silent as the early evening sun glowed red-gold through the windows warming the two men as they sat facing each other. The sunlight cast shadows over their faces, the one ecstatic and the other devastated. Mulder stirred.

"I loved you, you know? I still do. I felt that everything you did was in mockery of me. I hated you for the way you betrayed me. I hated you because I loved you and you didn't care." Alex nodded, and the two were silent again. Finally Alex checked his watch.

"Are you feeling up to going out? There's something I want to do, but I need you to come with me." Mulder, lost in his own memories, took a moment to respond, then nodded. Alex stood up, pushing his chair back under the table and gesturing with his head towards the door. Mulder, who was being torn from the thoughts that raced though his mind, appeared a little vague. "I don't have shoes. Your shoes don't fit me. I tried them. Too small."

"We'll stop by your place on the way. You can get changed and pack a bag, okay?" Mulder nodded and Alex led him through the door at the rear of the kitchen. As they entered the garage, Mulder saw the cars parked side by side. He hadn't until this moment been thinking clearly. Now he turned to Alex.

"Krycek, It's obvious you've been living here. Whose house is this? I mean, it's beautiful. Do you own it?" Mulder was taking in his surroundings and for once appeared totally overwhelmed.

"Yeah, it's mine. It's all mine. I live here alone." He didn't elaborate, and Mulder said no more as Alex unlocked his car and gestured for Mulder to climb in.

They drove to Mulder's apartment, and Mulder packed himself some clothes, changing into jeans and leather jacket in unconscious imitation of Alex. His feet were now tidily tucked away into running shoes and once Mulder was dressed in his own clothes, both men drove off into the evening. A short time later they arrived at the hospital where Scully had been brought that morning. As they waited for the elevator to take them to the ward where Scully lay recovering from her ordeal, Alex put his hand on Mulder's arm.

"You can do and say anything you like as long as it's nothing against me. As far as Scully is concerned, you and I have been friends for years, okay?" Alex's voice was intense, and warning signals flashed in his eyes as he stared the other man down.

"Won't that be difficult to rationalize? She knows that I hated you. She knows I wanted to kill you." Alex's smile turned deadly.

"Don't forget our agreement. You are going to do what I order you for 48 hours, right? So far it's only been six hours. Are you gong to keep your word the way I did? Or are you just a miserable, worthless cocksucker after all?" His face showed fury and something more. He was showing Mulder ample reason to believe that he, Alex, could be a killer. Mulder quailed visibly as Alex's face resumed its normal expression. His inner beast returned to its lair, and Alex smiled as the elevator finally appeared.

"Here we are. Let's go. Fuck it up, Fox, and I will kill you." Mulder, entering the elevator on Alex's heels, did not doubt it for a minute.

Scully was sitting up in bed when the two of them walked into her room. As they entered, she registered Mulder first, smiling at him as she accepted the flowers and the kiss on her cheek. Then she turned to Alex and her brows drew together in a frown as she recognized him.

"Mulder? What does this mean? Why is Krycek here?" She made a vague gesture towards Alex, who had assumed his very best "harmless puppy" expression. Mulder, who'd sat down on the edge of her bed, patted her hand, ate a few grapes from the bowl beside her bed, and grinned at her when she smacked at his hand.

"He rescued you, Scully. He saved both our lives. If he hadn't turned up when he did we would be frozen memories now."

Scully studied Alex suspiciously and then turned to Mulder.

"I don't understand. I thought you hated him, Mulder."

"God, Scully, it's complicated, but believe me when I say I've been wrong about him. We would have died. We were already dying when he arrived. He rescued us. He brought us back from Antarctica. It's because of him that we're alive to tell the tale, though it looks as though you've taken a battering, kid." Mulder put out an idle finger, skimming across lips that were dry and peeling, before turning to Alex. "Tell her, Alex."

Alex sat back in the chair at the foot of the bed, radiating cute harmlessness.

"It was nothing really." The grin on his face was goofy and altogether sexy. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood..." Scully shot him a glare.

"In Antarctica? Don't give me that shit! What were you doing there?" Her voice was cold, although he hadn't missed the way her icy blue stare had checked him out, was still checking him out. He adjusted his posture carefully, focusing on the redhead, sending a muted message of sensuality her way even though he was aware of tension emanating from the watching Fox.

Scully licked dry lips and looked away. Seeing the dull flush of color rise to stain her cheeks, Alex grinned inwardly.

Yes, It's do-able, and it might even be fun!

"I wish I could tell you why I was there, but I can't. Suffice it to say that it would put lives in danger. I'm just glad I was able to help." The sincerity in his voice resonated in Scully, he could see it, and inwardly gloated.

"Fox, we shouldn't tire Miss Scully out. She's still recovering." He stood up and went towards Mulder, who was perched on the edge of the bed. As he went, he held out his hand to Scully, who, he was pleased to see, appeared mesmerized by his pantherish gait and apparently unconscious sexuality. She was so surprised that she took the hand, shook it, and appeared not to notice when he held it a fraction too long for good manners. Her gaze rose from the rapt contemplation of his midsection to those killer eyes. They met and held hers, guilelessly.

"I hope we can be friends now. There are explanations for everything." Alex spoke quietly, but both Scully and Mulder gave a sigh as he finished speaking. Alex moved back to lean against the wall, thrusting his hips forward, and hooking his thumbs into his belt, as he watched Mulder exchange comforting words and smiles with his partner. He made no overt movement, merely taking note of each time Scully's eyes flickered over him, each time she checked out his crotch. He could feel himself beginning to stir at her interest. This was good. This was very good. His jeans were tight and well worn. Alex could see her eyes widen as she ran her gaze over him for about the fifth time. Whatever she'd been saying to Mulder abruptly dried on her lips and Alex judged that it was time to stop today.

"Come on, Fox, It's late, and Miss Scully's tired. We need to go now. We can come back tomorrow if you like." Mulder nodded, patting the hand he had been holding. He bent forward and brushed her cheek with his lips before rising and following Alex from the room.

Once they were on their way back to the car Mulder grabbed Alex's shoulder. "What was that all about? What are you doing?" He sounded irritated, not understanding Alex's actions. Alex smiled.

"It's time to make peace with everyone. I don't want to spend the rest of my life at war with people who matter to me." His thick lashes veiled his eyes as he shot Mulder a glance to see how he was reacting. Mulder's face was a study in 'I want to believe', and a wry grin appeared fleetingly on Alex's face as he watched the other man wrestle with his words.

Oh, Mulder, whatever happened to "Trust No-one"?

"We'll go and see her tomorrow. She'll be much better by then. It's not fair to tax her while she's still a bit out of it. Let's go home. In the morning I have a job for you." Together, the two of them climbed back into Alex's BMW and pulled away.

Alex woke with the dawn and lay thinking of the day to come. He had definite plans for Mulder and now was the time to begin putting them into operation.

He thought about Mulder and the things he was planning. His mind wandered to Dana Scully. He'd made a good start there. She may not like him, but she'd been interested, that was definite. Even though she'd bristled at him she hadn't been able to take her eyes off him. More particularly, she had been drawn to the center of him. He'd known instantly that she was attracted to him, and that with care she would succumb to his charms. He smiled to himself. Success was coming his way.

He headed for the bathroom, shaving quickly and then hopping into the shower. Images of the little redhead were still with him. In his mind's eye she lay under him, spread and open for him as he buried his face in her, his tongue stroking and swirling around the soft pink tissue of her.

Glancing down at himself, he snorted with laughter as his cock jolted to attention. He took hold of it, thinking to stroke himself to orgasm and get rid of the annoyance, then reconsidered, and allowed his hand to fall away. It would give him an edge when they went to visit Scully later in the day. He knew she'd be aware of how needy he was, even if she didn't know how, or why, she knew.

His cock subsided a little bit after he emerged from under the shower although it hung heavy between his thighs. As he pulled on his silk shirt and his form-fitting denim he was aware that he'd be giving both Mulder and Scully a show. Alex reflected on the irony of the two partners in a battle for his favors, hurrying to get on with the day, he slapped on cologne, brushed his hair, and moved off out of his mentor's old room.

Entering Mulder's room, he was surprised to see the FBI agent was still sleeping. Alex stood watching him for a short while, admiring the slim, taut body splayed out in sleep as if for his approval. He'd known that Mulder was well made, and now, with the sheet down around his knees, the sleeping man was completely exposed to Alex's considering gaze. His arm was flung carelessly over his face and his lips were slightly parted, showing white teeth and the tip of a pink tongue. His chin was dark with morning beard, and his skin was pale in contrast to the sprinkling of curls scattered over his chest, trailing down over his flat belly to cluster around the erection he was sporting

One day I will. One day he'll get what's coming to him, but not today. Not now.

Alex shook the elbow that had been flung out beside him. And Mulder stretched, grumbling, before coming awake with a start.

"Rise and shine, Fox, I need you to do some work for me." Alex turned and made for the door. "Breakfast will be ready in 20 minutes. I'll see you downstairs." With that, he padded away.

After breakfast, Alex wasted no time at all in setting Mulder to work. He brought out a thick stack of files and dumped them down next to his rangy visitor.

"I need a profile on this man. I release I don't have much time with you so I want you to get started now and do as much as you can. You probably realize that there are things at stake here. I assure you that the future of the world, and the humanity which dwells on it are dependent on the job you do." Mulder, interested now, opened the flyleaf of the first folder and studied the photo inside. There was no name, but he certainly knew the man depicted there.

Cancerman.

Frowning, but eager, Mulder bent to his task.

When Alex came back into the study, he found the other man totally absorbed in files, with papers and notes scattered everywhere. He didn't look up as Alex approached bearing a mug of coffee. Alex cast about vainly for an empty space to put it in, before finally giving up.

"Fox, can you clear a space? Fox!" He found himself almost yelling in an attempt to attract the other man's attention. He clicked his tongue to himself as he remembered the depths of the man's concentration from the brief time when they were partners.

Mulder jumped and then rummaged through papers to clear the small space needed so Alex could put down his cup. His eyes were gleaming as he worked in a way that Alex remembered well, and was truly happy to see.

"How's it coming? You look as if you're getting somewhere." His offhand inquiry sounded casual, but Alex's breath was tight in his chest as he waited for Mulder's reply. He'd seen this man at work, and knew that while his results were always accurate, his methods were usually unorthodox to say the least. He wasn't at all sure whether he had enough time with Mulder to complete the profile.

Mulder grinned at him.

"I would have paid to do this, Alex. I've wanted to know about him for years. I'm getting there." He gestured to the papers he'd taped to the wall, most of them covered in Mulder's spiky hand writing, while more had headers waiting to be fleshed out. What a cold, hard son of a bitch!"

Alex uttered a curse that could only have been Russian and growled at Mulder, who looked at him consideringly for a long, frozen moment in time. Nodding to himself, he returned to his introspection, before bombarding Alex with a whole new set of questions about the smoker.

The morning had passed by rapidly as the two men worked. When Alex had suggested that they go and visit Scully, Mulder had been amazingly difficult to prize away from his task. Alex had growled and threatened, finally coercing the other man into making the trip to the hospital. Mulder had been silent all the way, chewing his lower lip with an intensity that made Alex shiver.

As they parked the BMW, Mulder suddenly turned to Alex and gave him a dark, intense stare, stripped of all artifice. "Alex, I do really love you. I wish you could see how much." He leaned forward and grazed Alex's mouth with his lips before drawing back.

Alex smoldered at him for a brief moment and then flashed Mulder a sardonic grin.

"Okay, Fox, we're even now. Just don't push it. You and I are not going to be lovers any time soon, and you may as well learn to live with it." So saying, he emerged from the car.

When they arrived at Scully's room this time, the petite redhead had just finished her lunch. She looked up as they came through the door and smiled as she saw Mulder. Looking beyond him to Alex, who was following behind, she blushed and her face became unreadable.

Mulder went straight to her and handed her the things he had brought her with a flourish. There was a bunch of flowers hastily bought from the hospital store, and a book on origami, which he presented to her, telling her that she might just as well put her time in the hospital to good use.

"I want to see those napkins shaped like swans, Scully. I know you can do it." The look she gave him was the kind reserved by an older sister for her idiot sibling.

Alex waited for this ceremony to come to a close before approaching her and stooping to  plant a peck on her cheek. He handed her a small package which, when opened, proved  to contain a dopey-looking stuffed penguin.

"I got it because something about it reminded me of Mulder. I think it's the beak!" He grinned shyly and backed out of the way to lounge against the wall in his favorite spot, while he watched Dana Scully trying to decide how to react to him.

They chatted for a while. Alex took little part in the conversation, content merely to watch Dana as she bantered back and forth with her partner. It was obvious that she was feeling nervous and slowly, Mulder recognized the fact. Then he did what Alex had been counting on, and began to sulk.

Alex had reasoned that Mulder would be jealous. Not only did he want Alex himself, but also Scully was his partner. He was watching them engage in some peculiar, unspoken courtship dance, feeling distinctly left out.

Finally Alex smiled at Scully.

"Fox, we need to go. There's a lot still left to be done. We can come back later this evening if you would like?" His raised eyebrow made it a question, and she nodded slightly, murmuring thanks and telling them that she expected to be discharged the following day.

As they turned and left again, Mulder demanded furiously to know exactly what Alex was trying to do. Alex just laughed at him and Mulder stalked alongside him in silence, eyes flashing as he punished his lower lip with his teeth.

Once back at the house, Alex steered him back to the kitchen where lunch was waiting for them in the form of new bread fresh from the oven, a salad with chicken and an apple pie.

Mulder picked his way through lunch and kept up the bombardment of questions. Alex shot answers back to him, brow furrowed in his efforts to be accurate.

The meal done, they left the table and threaded their way back through the house to the study that Mulder had been using, and settled down to work. An image of the smoker was on the TV monitor and, from time to time, Fox would sit back, staring at it while Alex watched him.

"He's a dangerous man, Fox. Beneath the polite 'old-boy exterior,' he's a killer." Mulder turned to face Alex, concern on his features.

"That's why you won't beat him. You care, Alex. You try not to, but you care. He doesn't. He doesn't care at all. He's subsumed all his weaknesses, and now there's only the man and he's hollow. You can make him obey you by coercion, but look out, he's as slippery as an eel and would have you put out of his way so incredibly fast..." Alex smiled a little.

"Good job I have insurance then? Yes, I thought so. One day he and I will finish what we've started, but right now he's necessary to unite certain factions within the group. He knows he can't just kill me, but he's trying to slow me down because he knows too that we don't want the same end to this sorry tale. I don't think he hates me, he just can't bear that someone else might have a hold on him, and I do."

Mulder was listening happily, occasionally making notes on the various papers that covered the wall.

Alex laughed. "It was he who sent me to pull the two of you out of Antarctica. He thinks he'll divert me by involving me with you."

"And won't he? True, he probably thinks that you love me, though nothing could be further from the truth, but then I never told anyone what I did to you. I find it hard enough to admit to myself." Mulder's voice was low, and Alex found himself drawing closer and closer in an effort to hear what he was saying.

"Fox, I don't know what you think you did to me, but if you want, I'll tell you. When I was sent to be your partner, I was told that I was your type and that I was to use whatever means were available to me to gain your trust. He meant for us to become lovers, and I have to admit that made me angry. I shied away from you because it seemed so cynical. Then when we were enemies, it no longer seemed possible. It was obvious how much you hated me. I wanted to kill you but then you made amends. I was going to get us out of there. I gave myself to the camp commander and we would have been free that evening. Who knows, we might have been lovers for real, but you jumped the gun. You broke me out. Then you left me to sink or swim with a pack of ignorant moujhiks and I had to say goodbye to my nice ideas pretty damned fast. I spent two years whoring, and it's only been a short time since I realized that there are other ways of making things work." Alex was silent then, and Mulder reached for his hand, pulling it to him and kissing the palm.

"Alex, I'm so..." he pressed his face to Alex's hand, unable to continue. Alex remained still for a few seconds more, then drew his hand away gently.

"So you see, I have few qualms about fucking people, and I'm not anxious to get into a relationship right now. I'm not ruling you out, Fox, but you have to wait. It's not going to happen now, if it ever does." He turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Mulder to sit alone with his thoughts.

2.6: Carve You in Marble

Dana Scully had left the hospital. Alex and Fox had driven her home, staying for coffee and desultory chit-chat. Scully was easier with Alex now and didn't react like a rabbit caught in headlights every time Alex turned his green-eyed gaze on her. Alex had begun to tease her, offering little touches and intimacies wherever he could, and the woman was practically begging for his attention.

It had been difficult to get her to himself to try and square things away with her. He knew that she still somehow blamed him for her abduction. His chance came when Mulder had disappeared in search of yet another pack of sunflower seeds, convinced that there had been one in his pocket when he set out from the house. While Mulder ransacked his car, and then mooched off to the corner store in search of a fix, Alex broached the topic he knew was foremost in her mind.

"I couldn't stop them from abducting you, Dana. All I could do was to keep Fox from getting hurt. I didn't know what they would do to you." He looked so innocent and lost that he could see her eyes soften. He leaned forward to touch her hand. "I'd like to make it up to you, if I can."

She surveyed him, and he could tell that she was a little surprised that he had brought the subject up by himself.

"What about Missy? My sister? What about her? What's your excuse there, Krycek?" Her words were harsh, but he could see in her eyes, the faint, fragile need to believe him. He took a deep breath.

"I didn't kill her, you know that. Cardinale killed her, the trigger-happy moron. I tried to stop him, but he was so fucking fast! I did manage to stop him when he was going to shoot Skinner there in the stairwell. Skinner hates me for beating him up, but he would be dead now if I hadn't. I know what's going to happen, Dana, and some of the things I've had to do are because of that." He appeared sincere. Hell, for the moment he was sincere. She gave him a tiny smile.

"I believe that you mean what you say. I'm still not sure if I trust your motives." He smiled then, a wide, gorgeous, nose-crinkling smile, as he gauged her reaction to him.

"I'd really like the chance to make amends...well, not amends, precisely. I want to show you I'm not a bad guy. Will you let me?" He was close now, his breath soft and sweet on her cheek, and he saw her shiver before drawing away in confusion.

"I...uh... maybe. How do you mean?"

He put out a finger, tucking a strand of hair back from her face in a curiously intimate gesture, making her catch her breath. He could see from her facial expression that she was ready.

"Come out with me. I'd love to talk to you without Fox hanging over me like the skeleton at the feast. He is okay in his way, but he's so jealous of you..." She shared his grin, and it was done. Dana Scully was going to go out with Alex Krycek, rat bastard.

She was waiting for him in the coffeehouse where they'd arranged to meet, and he saw her face light up as she saw him heading straight towards her. He turned on his hundred-watt smile and drifted over to where she was sitting. This was the first time they had met together without Mulder's presence to act as a catalyst, and she was obviously nervous.

"Hello, pretty lady." He kissed her cheek quickly, feeling her frisson as his lips brushed by the corner of her mouth. He bestowed on her a little box containing two hand-made chocolates and winked at her. "If they aren't good for you, I volunteer to destroy the evidence."

She chuckled, and the moment's unease was over. The two of them shared coffee before getting up and leaving, arm in arm, like two old friends. They strolled through the park and back towards the Hoover Building where Scully had an afternoon full of interviews and meetings scheduled. As they approached it, Alex turned to her and gathered her hands, holding them captive close to his body. He felt her tremble and smiled inwardly. This was easy. Just appoint him foreign minister and there would no more wars.

He bent his elegant head down to her.

"Dana, I..." Stopping in apparent confusion, he waited for her to part her lips as if she would begin to speak before rushing on, his voice like burrs in silk. "I really, really want to see you. Can I?"

His eyes were like forest fires, sparks in the green, and his mouth was moist, and close and kissable. She looked up at him, and swallowed as she allowed herself to see how very beautiful he was.

She nodded.

"Tonight?"

She nodded again. He gave her his cell phone number. "Call me when you're ready. I'll pick you up from work." He released her hands to tip her chin up, and laid a kiss on her lips, whisper soft and full of sweet yearning. Then he smiled and said, "See you tonight."

Then he was gone.

She stood looking after him for a minute or two, a tall, slim figure all in black, his short dark hair neatly cropped, and his gait an animal glide as he stalked panther-like away.

She only turned to enter the building once he was out of sight.

Alex spent the afternoon getting ready. He'd studied her profile, worked on his appearance, and by the time his cell phone rang, he was looking forward to the evening with her.

She'd driven home from work, and Alex lost no time in making his way over to her apartment. When he rang on her bell, he was a vision in a carefully tailored back silk suit, shirt collar open and every inch of him desirable.

She was wearing a dress that fit her petite form exactly. Her breath hitched once as she opened the door and the reality of his appearance bore home on her. He smiled at her, and lowered his eyelids, allowing the long, thick lashes to veil his eyes before giving her a cheerful greeting.

"Dana, you're beautiful. Long time, no see!" His throaty chuckle invited her to join in and she did so, stepping out of her home to join him and then turning to lock the door.

Alex put his arms around her gently, and stooped to kiss her hello, before leading her out of the building to his car.

They'd enjoyed dinner, and then a movie, and now they were sitting in Alex's car, outside her apartment.

"You're welcome to come up if you like." She sounded shy. Good little catholic girl who doesn't have affairs and isn't sure how the game is played.

"I won't come in. It's late, but I'll see you to your door. You never know who's out there these days." He climbed out of the car and walked around to hold the door open for her, skimming her arm with the back of his knuckles as he did so, and putting his arm carelessly over her shoulder. She shivered, and Alex wondered how far he could take it tonight.

They walked to her door, and Alex took her key from her, unlocking it and then returning it to her. She lifted her face to his, and opened her mouth to begin thanking him for a pleasant evening. As she did so, his hand came up to cup her elbow, and his mouth, plump and sweet as cherries, dropped onto hers. His kiss was intense, sucking sweetness from her as if he were starving. She responded, she couldn't help it, her tongue curling against his without prompting, as her head swam with the combination of fatigue, good wine, and desire.

"Goodnight, lovely Dana. Sleep well and dream good dreams." The quiet voice, sugar in gasoline, abraded her ears and she sought his lips again, but he was already moving, already in the stair well, the fire door banging as he left.

The following day he didn't see Dana. He had to travel to New York for meetings with some Tunisians, and followed the meetings there with a number of others with various scientists who were working on a project of special interest to him. He'd phoned and left her a message on her cell phone, and another at home, and then forgotten about her in his joy at returning to New York. Alex loved New York. As he conducted his business, he wondered whether his campaign to seduce Scully was having any effect on Mulder. He hoped so.

He returned to his hotel room, lay back on the bed, and checked the time - 8:30 p.m. He wondered if she were home yet, and on impulse, dialed her number.

It rang several times, and he was just about to hang up when he heard her voice. He settled back into his pillows and smiled.

"Dana? How are you? Did you just get home?" His voice was a silken purr and he heard her catch her breath in spite of herself.

"Alex. I thought you were out of town." He could hear rustling and clinking in the background. "I was just at the supermarket."

"I am, I'm calling you from the Big Apple. I just wanted to hear your voice." Her laugh came throatily to his ear. "I miss you."

"When are you coming back?" She sounded wistful, and he felt the blood stream through his belly to his penis in response to the tone of her voice.

"Thursday evening. I get into Dulles at 4 p.m. Would you like to come to my place for dinner?"

and fucking

His hand hovered over his silk clad erection. He was wearing black silk, carefully tailored, and the feel of it on his skin was slippery and wonderful.

"Please say you will, Dana. I'll cook. I'll make something truly delicious." His hand strayed down and he palmed the bulge in his pants as he spoke.

"God, Dana, I wish you were here right now."

"Why? Whatever are you doing?" The laugh was back in her voice again.

"Thinking impure thoughts, that's what! Damn me for a lecherous beast, but I'm all hot and bothered, thinking about you." He chuckled a little. "I don't think I'd better say anymore. Will you come tomorrow?" There was a brief pause and he closed his eyes, slowly unfastening the button on his pants, and then sliding down the zipper.

"Alright. What would you like me to bring?" The words were softly uttered and his cock pulsed with joy as he realized that he'd succeeded. She was going to come over and she'd more or less accepted his advances.

He'd melted the ice queen.

As he laid his hand on his cock, and began to slide and tug rhythmically, he closed his eyes, picturing her face, imagining the way she would look with her head on his pillow and her face contorted with orgasm.

"Just bring yourself, sweetheart, just yourself."

The following day had gone well for him. He'd come away from his meetings with a way back into the action. He was going to be able to defeat the smoker now, he was sure.

He was going to get himself back inside the Hoover, and his good buddy Walter Skinner was going to help him. It was perfect.

He owed Walter Skinner, almost as badly as he owed Fox Mulder. This would be amazingly good. As he boarded the plane, he reflected on the way things were going. The nanotechnology in his power could and would be used to develop a new arm for him, Dana Scully would be in his bed in a few more hours, and he was going to stick it to Skinner. How could life be sweeter?

Settling back in his seat with a ginger ale and a thick sheaf of notes, he prepared to learn everything he could about the alien nanotechnology with which he had been gifted.

His arrival back in Washington was much earlier than he'd told Dana it would be. He was inside the Hoover as Walter Skinner arrived at work on Thursday morning. It had been very easy in the confusion for him to touch the Assistant Director, and then he made himself scarce, waiting to get outside the vicinity of the building before he ripped the itchy wig away. In his heart he couldn't actually believe that Skinner was now infected, and would virtually become his slave, but the documentation he'd been given was very clear. Alex was almost overcome with his desire to escalate the process, but he was aware that it was delicate, and to hurry it would kill his subject. That would not be good.

He went home to make things ready for Dana.

He could wait.

Alex was ready when the doorbell rang. He'd phoned through orders to his staff, and there were delicious smells penetrating the house from the chicken, pasta and garlic bread that were ready to serve.

He rushed to open the door, his red apron slightly askew over black jeans and black silk shirt. Dana Scully stood on the porch, one eyebrow quirked at him in an amused manner.

"Alex? You cook? This will be interesting."

He ushered her in, and took her jacket from her, stooping to kiss her cheek as she passed him by.

"This is your house?" She moved slowly, studying the photographs and pictures that hung on the walls. "Mulder told me about it, but seeing it is a different thing entirely."

"Yeah, I've been lucky. Wanna come into the kitchen? I've got a couple of things still to do before we eat." He turned and led her back into the kitchen, passing the table that had been set with bronze, crystal and linen.

Opening the oven, he removed the garlic bread and sliced it on the counter. Then he returned to reach in and pull out a chicken. Dana leaned on the counter, watching his deft movements with approval.

"You know, it's easy to forget that you only have one arm. You're very well co-ordinated, Alex. That smells heavenly."

He flashed her a quick smile, feeling her eyes on his body as though it were the sun, warming him.

"There are a lot of things I can't do yet." His tone was matter of fact as he placed things on platters and into bowls. "Carving, for instance, is really tricky. Would you do the honors for me, and I'll open the wine?"

As she set to work, Alex took a moment to admire her sleek body. He was going to make her scream tonight. He was. His cock jumped in its silken prison, and he breathed in sharply. He poured her a glass of wine, and placed the salad and pasta on the table before holding her chair for her. As she sat down, he stooped and nuzzled into her neck, behind her ear.

"You look gorgeous, Red. I want to gobble you up right now." His smile was wide and she met his eyes with a certain amount of mischief in her expression.

"Feed me, Krycek. I'm much more amenable to reason when I'm well fed."

He sat across the table from her and began to offer her the various dishes.

After-they had eaten their way through dinner, Alex took her into the living room to drink coffee and a liqueur. Alex had led her to an easy chair, and seen her seated before curling up on the floor by her knee. They continued to laugh and chat, as they had through dinner. Dana sat curled in the chair while Alex sprawled at her feet, laughing as he described the pompous, fat gentleman who had sat across the aisle from him on his flight home.

He watched her avidly, noting the way she had stiffened as he dropped himself at her feet, and observing the growing relaxation as she became accustomed to his proximity and the little, intimate touches that he gave her as she spoke. As he mimicked the man, she giggled, and Alex suddenly stopped his pantomime, reaching up to cup her chin, and rising to his knees to touch his lips to hers. He allowed his lips to slide over hers and then to cling as he kissed her gently. She sighed and closed her eyes as his hand gently stroked her jaw and neck. When he finally moved away from her, it was to dot a kiss on to the end of her nose, and then slide his fingers into her fine, red hair to cup the back of her head.

"I've been wanting to do that for a couple of years, Dana. You have no idea how good it feels." His voice was very low, almost a whisper, and he could see a flush creep over her cheeks. He leaned in and kissed her again, this time turning his head sideways and parting his lips against hers as he pressed his mouth to her. His tongue shyly flickered in and out between his lips, teasing her as she reached up with a sigh to place her arms around his neck.

He growled deep in his throat at that, and stood, picking her up in his arms without for one moment breaking the kiss, and then turned to sit in the chair himself, Dana sitting on his lap.

His left arm cradled her, while his tongue sought out the secrets of her mouth. His right hand urged her to pillow her head on his shoulder, before sliding down, deftly stroking and teasing, first her neck, and then her breasts, as she clung to his neck. He could hear her breathing change and deepen as he found the nipples through her shirt and began to pinch them gently. She was ready. She was so ready for a lover. He wondered if she and Mulder had ever had an affair. They obviously were incredibly fond of one another, but whether they had or had not, she was his right now. He stretched her over him as he leaned back, mouth ravenously insistent on hers, his fingers caressing and stroking as he held her tight. He was stiff and ready. Momentarily, he wondered if she could accommodate him, as tiny as she was, but lost the thought as one of er hands wandered down to find his erection through his jeans, squeezing gently, until he sobbed into her mouth, causing her to chuckle softly.

"Jesus, Dana, I want you. Please, baby, please."

Again came the low laugh, and she skittered her fingers up to open the buttons on his jeans, reaching beneath to find silk boxers, and under that, silken skin, hot and hopeful beneath her touch.

He stood again, and carried her, lying secure against his chest, out of the living area and up the stairs to his room. Once inside the door, he allowed her to swing her feet down and stood her up, pulling her in to press against him as he held her.

"Better say now if you don't want me, Dana. I'm on a real short fuse tonight."

She grinned her answer, reaching up again to pull his head down, fixing her mouth onto his. She was making it plain that she intended to stay with him.

He fumbled at the buttons of her white satin shirt, finally opening it, and pushing it to one side, his hand going behind her to unfasten her bra even as she began with hasty fingers to open the shirt he wore. In no time he felt her small, smooth hands delicately stroking. He moaned into her mouth and gathered her to him, while their hands slid over each other, skin on skin.

The tip of his cock, already exposed by Dana's searching fingers, protruded from the confines of jeans and boxers, pressed and rubbed against the fabric of her skirt with a sensation that was completely arousing, but only partly pleasure. He reached down to unfasten the skirt, sliding it down over her hips like a greedy child unwrapping a parcel.

She put down her hands to help him, and he broke the kiss to look at her eyes, dazed with want. Then he sank to his knees, sliding skirt, hose and panties down for her to step out of and with a muttered imprecation, he pushed his face into the fuzzy, champagne-colored fluff between her legs and his tongue slid warm and wonderful, to tease the hidden button.

He felt her knees give a little as she stiffened, and let her go for a moment, chin shiny and a beatific smile making him look like an angel of some kind. Then he stood, quickly divesting himself of his lower garments. When finally he stood before her, naked but for the shirt that hung loosely from him, his cock had begun to glisten with the welling up of pearly moisture at the tip.

He didn't speak, and nor did she. He just stepped in close to kiss her again, very gently, as he guided her to his bed.

Reaching the side of the bed his smile faded, and he looked at her again, eyelids heavy as he considered her. His mouth found the pulse point in her neck as he slowly guided her to lay back on the bed.

He wanted to taste all of her. She was small and delicate, and sweet on his tongue. Nipping the rosy tips of her small breasts, he surprised a squeak out of her, and felt her shudder. Chuckling, he seized a nipple between his teeth, tugging gently and licking with his tongue until she buried her hands in his hair and gasped. His hand crept down to tease, skimming thighs, sliding between her legs to touch for an instant the groove where her leg joined her body.

She had parted her legs, and lay spread out beneath him, slowly writhing as he touched her. He drew back to study her, and she whimpered as he ran a questing forefinger down her body from chin to pubis, caressing her. She spread her legs wider and pushed up towards him.

"God, Dana, you're so beautiful." He leaned in then to drive into the center of her, tongue finding the swollen button again, and rhythmically lapping as his fingers slid inside her to press deep.

He was lost now in the responses of her, monitoring each quiver and twitch through tongue and fingers. He could feel the slippery folds of her tighten as he slid his tongue over her, and sucked the sensitive swelling in to tease it further with tongue and teeth.

He felt the surge inside her, and she cried out, hands gripping his head helplessly as she convulsed against him, moist and fluttering..

Rearing up again to hold her, he kissed her, her own juices sticky on him, and gently pressed his own thick, desperately leaking cock into her with a groan. She was hot at the core, heated satin, wet and slick as a dream, hotter than a warp core meltdown. He sank slowly inside her until he was completely buried and wholly unable to do more than hold her and thrust, jerk, and thrust again, as he murmured her name over and over.

There were no more kisses.. He wasn't conscious enough for kisses. His head was arched back, his eyes closed and white teeth sank hard into his lower lip as he rocked to and fro. She raised her knees high, wrapping her ankles around his hips, and held his buttocks to pull him in ever tighter on each thrust as she felt the heated glide of his cock pulling sensation from deep within her. Her slippery warmth made feelings surge in him, spinning them loose along his cock, until his body twanged with the silvery intensity of his growing orgasm

He heard her breath catch and hold, and he let out a little broken cry, and then ripples like hot molasses sucked the warm fluid from his balls. His body bowed rigid and he pushed hard, barely able to stand the sweet sensation as sperm spurted free into her and he came, and came, and came.

Finally collapsing onto her, boneless and gasping, he lay with his face buried in her hair.

"Dana, Dana, my god, Dana!" His voice slurred in her ear and his breath tickled as he tried his hardest to be coherent. "That was so almighty fucking wonderful. I think you broke my back. I'm never going to have voluntary muscle tone ever again." He laughed, his breath sweet against her cheek, and she turned her head, finding his lips and nibbling on them gently as he lay recovering, still joined to her though his penis was rapidly softening now.

"Alex, if anyone had told me that I'd ever let you touch me, let alone make love to me, I would probably have shot them, but, Oh My God, it was amazing, fantastic. I'm glad I left my gun at home. Yours was more than enough."

He chuckled slightly, and adjusted his position so that she was lying beside him, held in his embrace, as his cock finally fell from its resting place.

As he held her, nuzzling kisses around her hairline, and down the angle of her jaw, her cell phone rang. His arms tightened around her momentarily as she began to sit up, but then he released her, allowing her to fumble in her jacket and take out the offending instrument. As she sat on the edge of the bed to answer it, Alex rolled a little closer to her.

"Scully." Her voice was calm and business-like. Her brow furrowed as Mulder's voice came over the phone.

"Scully, there's something wrong with Skinner, he's sick." As she listened, Alex began to trace her spine with his tongue, surprising a little gasp out of her. "Scully?"

Alex's hand slid around her waist, and down, to bury itself in her dripping wet vulva, fingers tweaking gently as he nipped and nuzzled the back of her neck.

"I'm ... I'm here, go on." Her breathing was unsteady and she lay back against him, hips wriggling steadily as Alex worked her. He inserted his tongue into the ear she was not holding to the phone, and she uttered a strangled sob.

"Scully, what's wrong?" Mulder's voice came clearly to Alex as he buried his face in her neck, sucking hard enough to make a mark, never pausing in his gentle stroking of her cunt.

"N ... nothing ... I'm sorry ... I'll ... I'll call you back. " She shut off the cell phone, leaned back into Alex's arms, and came to the touch of his fingers.

When she was done, he held her to him, quietly playing with breast and belly while he murmured to her about the beauty of her. She lay quiescent, allowing his hand to touch her wherever it willed. Finally, she turned to him, grabbed him by his ears and fixed her mouth on his, kissing him avidly.

"You bastard. " She was smiling as she spoke, but there was a certain gleam in her eye as she chastised him. " How could you do that when I'm talking to Mulder? Damn it, he's going to know what I was doing. He's probably going to know who I as doing it with. He'll think I'm a total slut. How dare you!"

Alex gave her a sheepish grin. "I couldn't resist. You're so gorgeous, Dana. Besides, you're my slut now. " And he dived out of the way, cackling as she aimed a roundhouse swipe at him. They grappled together until finally he subdued her, lying pressed over her, kissing her long and hard. When finally he pulled backwards a little, she fixed him with a stern look.

"Alex, I have to go. This is good. This is wonderful, but I do have to leave now. " He swooped in to stop her words with his lips until she began to fight again. "I mean it, Alex, let me up."

"You're going to leave me and go to Mulder, aren't you? I want you so much more than he does. Stay here with me? Sleep with me tonight. You know I can make you feel good."

"I want to, but I can't. I have to go." She had already reached for the clothing she had been wearing, dressing unselfconsciously in front of him as he watched, his cock already beginning to thicken again as he gazed soulfully at her.

"Will you come back?" His simple words appeared to hold a world of meaning. He lay in disheveled splendor, shirt open and half off his shoulder, eyes hooded and the sheen of sweat on his muscled chest and stomach, prick twitching as it saluted her from between casually splayed legs.

She finished zipping her skirt, and then nodded once, smiling at him.

"Be sure I will. Just try and keep me away after that." Blowing him a kiss, she left the room hurriedly. A few seconds he heard the muted "clunk" of the front door closing.

2.7: Heart and Soul

Dana Scully had left the building.

Alex lay for a few minutes, grinning to himself. She'd been fantastic. Making love to her was not a chore at all. He felt energized, as though somehow he'd drawn fire from this encounter with her. He looked at the time. It was ten-thirty, not late. He'd go check out his latest project. Getting up, he slipped on some shapeless, shabby clothing, and applied fake whiskers to his face. Finally, he fitted on a longhaired wig, and took the small, black computer from the case on his dresser.

The following day, he was waiting outside the Hoover building when Scully emerged with Mulder. Lounging against a potted tree, he managed to look piratical and sexy in his leather, denim and silk. Dana's eyes opened wide as he prowled over to her, put his arm around her and kissed her hard, tongue flicking in to make her shudder.

"Hey, love, I brought you these, and wanted to let you know that last night was wonderful, amazing. I've got to go out of town again for three or four days, but I'll call. I didn't want you to think I was running out on you." A quick flick of his eyes showed him Mulder, dumbfounded, anger just beginning to congeal on his face as he pieced together facts and impressions into a maddening whole.

Inwardly grinning, but outwardly the earnest lover, he pressed the small posy of violets into her hands, kissed her again while she gaped, all cover blown, and then turned. Stunned, she watched him lose himself in the crowd of lunchtime agents scurrying after sandwiches and pizza.

He didn't need to hang around to watch. He knew there would be trouble in heaven. He was counting on it.

Much later, he was in the act of applying the hair and the facial fuzz once more when his cell phone rang. Mulder! He just bet it would be Mulder.

Mulder it was.

"Krycek? What the fuck are you doing with Scully?" The anger was a tangible entity, battering his eardrums as he listened, grin widening and straggly beard jutting.

"Ask her, Mulder. I don't discuss my conquests with anyone." He could hear the growl at the other end of the phone, and it made him laugh, causing the still tacky moustache he was wearing to fly off on one side. Sighing, he reapplied it as he listened to Mulder's diatribe running itself down. Eventually, as an island of silence loomed in the murky invective, he seized on it.

"That's all very well, Fox, and I may be everything you think me, but it's really up to her, wouldn't you say?" He was trying to remain immobile so the face-hair set, and had a sudden idea. He drew the control from his pocket, and escalated the effects the nanobytes would be having on Skinner. He was gratified when Mulder uttered a curse and hung up abruptly.

He punched in Dana's number, and waited to hear her voice. When she answered, he smiled again. This ime however, the moustache remained in place, looking for all the world as if a long dead guinea pig had been glued to him.

"Hello, love, I'm sorry, did I out you? I didn't realize," she cut him off abruptly.

"Alex, I can't talk right now. I'll call you back later." Then she was gone. He held the phone in his hand, stared at it for a few moments more, nodded, and finally moved off to see what mayhem he could cause for Skinner.

Alex leaned against the wall of the hospital corridor. He had by now established Walter Skinner's whereabouts, and was idly tweaking the control device up and down, knowing that Skinner was going to be uncomfortable and in pain, but that what he was doing was not actually enough to kill the man, quite. It had been a long day, and he was thinking to close down his assault for the night, when he found himself almost face to face with Fox Mulder.

He took off rapidly, bolting up the stairs and heading for the parking lot even as he heard Mulder's voice raising pursuit. Running as fast as he could, he reached the parking lot with Mulder in hot pursuit and crashed through it, hearing the tortured squeal of rubber behind him as he ran.

Finally, for his own peace of mind, he managed to avoid his relentless pursuer, hiding himself in a convenient delivery bay among piles of linen hampers. He paused there, silently waiting until Mulder, doggedly persistent, had chased off to look for him further afield. He had planned this well. A car was waiting for him and he leapt into it, driving recklessly around the turns of the parking garage until he reached the entrance. Once he'd arrived at the entrance, he drove full tilt at the car that was waiting to pay and leave the facility. The resulting smack left him breathless and more than slightly dazed. Feeling very light headed, he opened the door to his ill-fated vehicle, and left at a run.

On his return to his own car, he turned off the control device and packed it away very carefully before settling down behind the wheel. He shook his head, grinning ruefully. He should have known. It was becoming a game between himself and Mulder now, but then, when you boiled it down, it always had been. Whenever the two of them came up against each other, they managed to transmute themselves into Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. Alex liked that metaphor, hugging it to himself with glee.

"Be vewwy, vewwy quiet, I'm hunting Kwycek." and the laughter spilled out of him like bubbles in champagne.

His cell phone rang.

Here it comes!

Sighing, he thumbed the thing open and responded. Mulder didn't waste time on pleasantries, but then he never had.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" and Alex could picture him, thunderous fury closing out the usually amiable face as it added color to the sultry beauty of him.

"I shouldn't have taken that left turn at Albuquerque, Fox, that's my problem." There was a moment of stunned silence at the other end of the phone, and then Mulder's voice again, beginning who knew what diatribe. Still grinning, Alex closed the phone up, turned it off, and tossed it negligently onto the passenger seat. Setting his car in motion, he pulled away.

It was midnight. He'd been working out, trying to find ways of preventing the steady atrophy of musculature on the left side of his body that would twist him eventually into a scoliosis. His armlessness offended him, even though the new prosthesis that made use of the nanotechnology was helping to keep his spine straight. It hurt. It chafed and abraded his stump, and he was never pain free. He'd just removed the arm and the scarred stump just above where his elbow should have been was burning agony for him. The raw flesh had chafed until it oozed clear fluid.

He sprayed it with a little local anaesthetic, and then as the pain began to dull, he plunged it into surgical spirits, biting back the scream that rose to his lips as the agony threatened to make him pass out. Moaning faintly, he sprayed it again and then headed in to take a shower.

He reflected to himself that he had Skinner in the palm of his hand now, totally under his control, and smiled to himself again, teeth flashing white as he adjusted the water temperature in the shower. Finally, he stepped out of his sweats and under the cascade of water, humming to himself in his husky baritone as he did so.

He had not heard anything over his own uplifted voice and the drumming of the shower. As he climbed out from under the water and reached for a towel, he was completely taken by surprise when he felt the unmistakable, cold, dead feel of a gun pressed to the back of his neck. He froze.

"If you really hate my singing that much, I'll stop. No need to be so vehement." Who the hell was in his bathroom? He listened, searching for any clue, but the steam on the mirror prevented him from seeing his assailant, and he had enemies, oh yes indeed, enemies galore.

The gun jabbed sharply at the back of his neck and for a moment he felt rage that someone could invade his home this way. He felt sheer, blind murderous rage that the end had come before he could carry out his plans. Once he was dead, so too would be the human race, and there was no other to whom he could pass the baton. He'd planned on Fox Mulder being the one, but there was no way now. He just hadn't had enough time.

As if he'd voiced his thoughts, the flat voice of Fox Mulder, bete noir, impinged on his ears.

Jesus, it's okay. It's only Fox. Alex felt the skin of his balls relax as he realized just who was menacing him with that gun.

"I'm sorry." He tried for a casual tone. "What did you say? I missed it." Alex lifted his hand into the air and slowly began to turn round. His body was seal-wet and glistening, his hair stood wet and spiky, and his skin was flushed from a combination of hot water and exercise. His cock, always quick to respond to danger, was filling with savage little leaps as it hung heavily between his thighs. So aroused was he by his situation that he wanted to take hold of it and work it in front of the man who stood before him, holding the gun on him.

Mulder gaped at him, and Alex stepped in against the gun barrel that was now pressing into his throat, causing Fox to step backwards, making contact with the wall. He watched Mulder's Adam's apple rise and fall again in a nervous swallow, and he smiled slyly at the other man.

"Keep the gun right there, Fox. You never know what I'm likely to do." His raised hand reached forward, very gently to cup the back of Mulder's head, pulling it forward as he leaned in. His lips made contact with Mulder's, soft and warm and right, very right even though he'd constantly denied himself this until now. Mulder stood, nonplussed, apparently unable to deal with what was happening. Alex ran his tongue over Mulder's lips, seeking admittance, and they parted, apparently of their own volition, allowing him to slide gently past to caress the soft, sweet interior of Mulder's mouth. The gun remained wedged under Alex's chin as though it belonged there, but Mulder's other arm slipped around him to pull him close. The kiss swiftly escalated from soft and gentle clear through to nuclear meltdown. Alex could feel the harsh smoothness of leather against his chest and the rough abrasion of Fox's denim covered fly on the head of his cock. He sighed, melting into Fox, and Fox's hand abandoned the gun, wedged where it was under Alex's chin, as he encircled Alex with both arms.

For a minute, Alex continued to kiss Fox, tongue plunging in to tease and torment the other man. Then, he gently drew back, lips a whisper away from the other man.

"Uh, is the safety on your gun, or am I likely to lose my head over you?" He nibbled contemplatively on Fox's lower lip for a moment or two after speaking. Fox groaned and reached for the gun, thumbing on the safety catch and then dropping it into his pocket.

We're hunting wabbits!

Smoothly, he pulled Fox back into his embrace, allowing his caresses and his evident arousal to speak in his defense as he molded himself up against the other man. He'd always known that this day would come but he hadn't anticipated it happening quite in this manner. Mulder had taken him by surprise, and Alex hadn't had time to steel himself against the emotions he could feel kicking in.

He leaned hard on Fox, pressing him tight up against the wall, giving him no chance for second thoughts as he invaded his mouth. Fox, eyes closed and gasping, was returning his kisses, his hands pulling Alex's naked body up to press the length of him while his breath spun rags of passion over damp skin, and his body writhed against the silken nudity of the man in his arms.

It was clear to Alex that somehow tonight had been chosen as the time to cross a boundary of some kind, and as he began to catch fire from the wildness of their lovemaking, he reflected on the relationship between the two of them. He decided that it was time to exert a hold over the FBI agent. Once more he pulled back, his smile rendered sensual by the slight swelling of well-kissed lips.

"You realize you're cheating on Dana, don't you, Fox?" He murmured, grin widening at the look of consternation that suddenly appeared in Fox's passion-dazed eyes. "Come on." He took Fox's hand, and led him from the bathroom back to the bedroom where he'd stayed after the Antarctica experience.

The two of them stood, surveying one another. Trapped by time and circumstance, the two of them had always known that they were paired by fate. Now, Alex felt only relief as he finally surrendered to that fate instead of fighting it as he usually did.

Fox was trying, with shaking hands, to unfasten his buttons. Alex stepped in behind him, kicking the fallen leather jacket out of the way, and snaked his arm around Fox's waist, deftly opening his fly as he ran his tongue over the nape of Mulder's neck. Three hands pushed down on the fabric of Mulder's jeans. Two hands slipped the waistband of his boxers, allowing them to slide down over his prick, and one hand...

Ah, that one hand!

It circled the straining penis, squeezing and pulling, while Alex held Fox captive against him. His tongue delved busily into the side of his neck, his ear, and the base of his throat. Fox leaned back into Alex, feeling the press of Alex's cock against the cleft in his buttocks and wriggled against him just a little as Alex's knowing hand closed on his penis, tugging him gently towards the bed.

Pushing Fox down to sit on the edge, Alex gestured to him to finish undressing, turning away to find his new arm, slipping it into place over the stump and wincing a little at the contact with the fresh blisters. The hand wore a black leather glove, and he left that in place with a smirk. Then he turned back to show Fox exactly what he had learned since the last time they had shared a bed.

In his mind he could picture them as they had been. He with a bad case of the flu, still sore and shaken from the brutality of the rape, ploughing into his tormentor with hate in his heart, and Fox, so desperately needy that he would take anything Alex offered him because it was better than nothing.

Fuck you, Mulder! He could remember screaming that as he pounded into him, and wondered where all that hatred had gone. He didn't hate Fox any more. He felt sorry for him, found him touching and oddly noble.

He loved him.

This was new to Alex, this feeling. He'd managed to go through life without ever feeling love, and was fighting it grimly now. He'd enjoyed most of his life to date, getting his kicks from the power he could exert over others. This man with all his pathetic personality defects had somehow wormed his way past Alex's defenses, and Alex was caught. He turned back to Fox, who was sitting, wide-eyed, on the edge of the bed, penis leaking as he watched Alex.

Alex put out a hand to cup Mulder's chin, drinking in the sight of him as he stared back at Alex through glazed eyes. His thumb moved to brush the corner of Fox's mouth, and he felt the shudder that went through Fox at his touch.

For a moment they held still, communicating need through touches in the silence, and then Alex dropped smoothly to kneel between Fox's knees. The silence was broken as he opened his mouth to take Fox in, sucking on Fox's cock as the other man cried out "Oh," and "Oh," and "Oohhhhh!"

Fox tasted good. He tasted salty and desperate, a fine combination. Alex took the length of him in deep. His hand circled the base of Mulder's cock, and he could feel the build of excitement beginning, felt the jolt as sharp, sucking pressure drew hot pleasure through Fox. He pushed Fox back, parting his thighs to drape them over his shoulders as he knelt beside the bed.

Groping for lube, he released the purpling cock from his mouth and moved downwards to lick and nibble gently at Fox's balls, listening avidly for the moans and whimpers that Fox was producing as he gave himself up to the liquid heat and slide of Alex's mouth on him. Fox had found his voice now, but only to beg for Alex to please, please, fuck him now!

Alex laughed a little harshly. His own excitement was growing, but the reduction of surly, cerebral Mulder to a quivery mass of urgent sensuality was too thrilling for him to leave just yet, and he moved lower. He spread the cheeks of Mulder's ass wide to lay it open for inspection, running his tongue from anus to perineum repeatedly before finally pressing home with his tongue, stabbing the small pucker until it yielded, and then working in and out past the muscle there.

Mulder sobbed, his breath catching in his throat as Alex covered his penis with a gentle hand to keep Fox from touching it himself. Fox was wailing now, struggling to control the rhythm and punch of that wicked tongue. Not content to allow Alex total control, Fox was fighting to rub his wanting penis on something, anything, and finally, Alex drew away to wait, the taste of Mulder on his tongue like the sweetest delicacy. Alex was dazed, blood drumming in his ears and sweat-slick chest, flushed rosy with effort, heaving.

The hand that had been protecting Mulder's cock moved down to press over his testicles. Fox writhed as Alex waited, holding still as he watched the urgency of the other man's orgasm recede. As Fox stilled his desperate movements, Alex rose to his feet, climbing onto the bed and pulling Fox up to lie beside him, facing him. He had not spoken yet, but he did so now. His voice was quiet, gentle, and inexorable.

"Tell me what you came here for." And Mulder, passion-dark eyes free-wheeling over landscapes of requited lust, was suddenly jerked back to the here and now, distrustful as Alex moved to cup his buttock and nip at his throat.

"You," he gasped. "You were at the hospital." And Alex flashed him his widest smile before dropping again to lay his lips against Mulder's, delivering tiny kisses until Fox groaned and grabbed Alex's head, centering their mouths and then kissing him hard.

"You believe I was at the hospital?" Now he was tugging at an earlobe, now lapping at the corner of Mulder's avid mouth. "And why would you think that?"

"Do you think I don't know you, Alex? Do you think I don't see you in my mind's eye every minute of every day? I know the shape of you. I know the way you walk. I know the movement you make with your chin when something disturbs you. I could pick you out in a crowd. It's the price I pay for the way I feel about you." Mulder avoided Alex's lips, and the dark, introspective expression solidified on his features, leaving him to appear somehow smaller, less substantial than before. Alex rolled to lay over him and slipped his arms through to lie under Mulder's shoulders so that he was cradling Fox's head in his two hands, the one of flesh and blood, and that strange, leather clad other.

"Were you going to kill me?" Alex's voice was rough with excitement as he awaited Mulder's answer. The thumb of his right hand was still describing little circles on Fox's face, just below that maddening lower lip. His mouth came smoothly down to cover that mouth, tongue snaking in again in a slippery wash of sly exploration. His body squirmed over Fox. And Fox, needing, always needing, melted gratefully into Alex, opening himself, offering everything he had, or was, or could possibly give. "Would you?" Alex repeated, and Fox shook his head, in denial, pulling him back to suck on his mouth.

The time for questions had passed. Fox had clearly fallen back again to a place without thought and was running purely on instinct as he kissed, and licked, and nipped at Alex. They were pressed close now, cocks sliding against each other and mouths glued. There was no way back. Alex was gone now, gone on a mad rush of adrenaline that dried his mouth, curled his toes, and had him thinking purely with his dick.

Somewhere, his rational mind screamed that this was the man who had raped him, but as Mulder continued to moan and urge him on, Alex knew without any doubt that it was time, and that Mulder was his, had always been his. He spread Fox's legs, reached for the lube and stroked it onto the area around Fox's anus. All of a sudden it had stopped being about Alex gaining control, and become about him losing that control, losing himself as he pressed home with fingers that shook and heard the dark, grating cry of Fox's arousal.

It was no longer enough for Alex to be with Fox, running his hands over the sweetly muscled body. He wanted to own him, to possess him completely, to merge identities until neither of them could see where the profiler ended, and the sheer, rat bastard began. He drew his fingers out from the warmth of Fox's ass and took hold of his own cock, centering it and slowly, gently pushing it in through the barrier. He heard sobs as he slid home, his own sobs that were his gift to Fox as the layers of exquisite feeling flowed between them.

Fox, calmer now, pulled him back into a kiss, and as Alex began to fuck him, sliding in and out of the slick hotness of him, Fox mirrored his actions with his tongue, holding Alex captive in the crook of his arm as he kissed him stupid.

Stupid! He was stupid with lust, crazy for this man in his arms, and he held him tight, fucking him, kissing him, losing himself in the willing body as he prayed that this would never end, never, never end.

Then of course, it had to. Fox came first, his cock mashed between them as Alex stroked inside him. Alex felt him tense and spasm, and then the sticky fluid spattered between them. Alex exulted, feeling his own orgasm build.

His cock was on fire with the delicious friction of their movements. When his balls finally clenched and emptied themselves, he felt a sunburst of flashing pleasure riot through him, sensitizing him from the fine hairs on the nape of his neck, down clean through to his toes. The tip of his cock screamed joy. He was the tip of his cock, spurting into Fox, deep into him.

And God was there. He swore God was there as he heard Fox say "I love you" and tasted acid copper on his tongue from where he had bitten his lip until it bled. He lifted his head up from Fox's shoulder to look at him, and the cloudy eyes locked to his as Fox smiled weakly.

"God, Alex," and subsided, letting his total state of disarray speak for him.

Alex kissed him very gently, leaving a trace of blood on Fox's swollen lips and then collapsed to lie on him, sticky and sated.

"I was clean. I just had a shower, and now look at me." Fox laughed softly as he heard the aggrieved tone.

"You'll be clean again someday. God, Alex, I love you." Fox lay sprawled beneath him, virtually purring as he recovered, their welter of tangled limbs sweat-sheened and loose. Alex sagged to one side and rolled to lie nestled on Fox's shoulder, arm and leg draped across his lover's body in ownership. He felt the stickiness of Mulder's cooling ejaculate over belly and chest but was just too shattered, too comfortable to go looking for a wash cloth.

They slept.

Waking in the morning, Alex found himself lying spooned up against the sleeping Mulder who was warm and snug, snoring faintly as he dreamed on. Alex had his arm around Mulder's waist and he relaxed, feeling wonderful as his lover continued to sleep. In the clear light of morning he wondered what he had done, and how he would ever manage to control Mulder now. He didn't know whether to be happy or dismayed, but however stupid his decision to take Mulder as a lover had been, right now he felt terrific. He was in love with this man. He'd finally admitted the fact to himself, and that was enough for today.

His hand gently stroked the flesh of Mulder's belly. He could no more still it than he could fly. Under his gentling hand, he felt Fox awaken slowly, gradually returning to consciousness. He could tell the exact moment when Fox recalled the night before. The lean body started, and his breathing changed. Alex moved forward until he could press his lips onto Fox's smooth  shoulder.

"Good morning, love. Are you going to shoot me now?" and Fox rolled over to face Alex, greedy eyes and strange, shy smile as he pulled Alex into his arms.

"I can't believe this. I've wanted it for so long. Oh, Alex... " And then there were no more words as the two of them kissed again, long and slow.

Fox was glowing. His smile was incandescent as he radiated his happiness. He became playful, and rolled to loom over Alex, offering little, playful strokes and caresses to him.

"I love you, you know that, don't you? Yeah, I guess you do. It feels as if I've always loved you. You were sent here for me, and you have no business fighting it." Alex nodded. The other man had never made any secret out of his feelings for him. He lay quietly on the pillow, watching Fox, and trying to analyze his own feelings. This would make a difference, but whether for better or for worse, he could not say.

He tried to think of world domination, of darkly malevolent shapeshifters capturing his world and everything that was in it. He tried, but all his mind would reflect on at the moment was the curve of Fox's neck, the sweetness of his rarely seen smile, and what it did to him when Fox touched him, oh god, there!

Then, Fox's mouth was on his face slipping down on moist tracks across his throat, rough beard providing a scratchy, sensual counterpoint to his kisses as he fastened on Alex's nipple. There was no alien presence so menacing that it could take him from this, nothing but here, now, today, and the feel of Fox loving him. He felt as if his belly had somehow melted, trickled away leaving a void in which small creatures fluttered blindly, while Fox sucked his nipples between his teeth, lashing each in turn with his tongue. Alex hissed in his breath as the tickling pleasure forged a line that shot direct from nipple to cock.

Fox's hands roamed over him, delicately stroking his thighs, skimming over his rapidly growing erection to trace small circles on his loins. His skin felt charged, electrified and urgency began to sing in his blood as Fox continued his leisurely exploration of Alex's body.

When Fox slid down over the flat stomach and curled himself comfortably between Fox's legs, Alex felt flashes of excitement curl through him, turning him hot, then cold, then hot once more as the sweat began to shine on his chest.

As Fox began to lick and kiss him from the inside of his thighs around to the tender groove that ran between leg and torso, his penis began sending its own, demanding messages, and his breath began to shorten. Then, Fox licked the length of his cock from base to crown, and his hips began to jerk forward in a motion he just couldn't seem to control.

He looked down at the dark head, tousled hair standing in tufts, and at the face, studious expression and slight frown, as he contemplated the erection that Alex was now sporting. Fox was so beautiful. How could their lives have been so badly fucked up? Alex didn't know. He reached to stroke the other man's hair and received an impish grin. Fox had planned his attack and was even now moving to put it into practice.

Fox held out a hand for the lube and Alex passed the small bottle down to him, feeling gentle thrills of anticipation course through him as he lay back to await the further developments. Fox began again to lick at his cock, and with every swipe of his broad, flat tongue he found it harder and harder to think straight. He couldn't look away from this gorgeous man who was slowly, methodically driving him crazy.

He didn't know exactly when it was that he started to whimper. He became aware that he was doing so when Fox suddenly got a gleefully pleased expression on his face, and his onslaught intensified. To Alex, he looked for all the world like a small boy eating illicit candy.

Alex was pushing blindly with his hips now, in an attempt to hasten the slow, maddening escalation of sensation that Fox was orchestrating, but Fox was carefully ensuring that he remained in control, and that Alex remained helpless until he himself decided it was time.

Alex's legs were splayed wide apart. Mulder had coated his fingers generously with lube and now pushed one index finger into Alex's ass, hooking it forward to find his soft spot and stroke it. Alex choked as the bolt shot through him, and Mulder paused in his steady, rhythmical licking to grin up at him again. Alex felt so good right then, so very fucking wonderful that he was almost screaming with the need to be sucked.

He closed his eyes and willed Fox to suck him.

Fox didn't.

"Please, Fox, please. You're driving me crazy now. Please." He heard the words spill from his mouth with some kind of amazement. He didn't beg. He didn't plead, and yet here he was, reduced to a squirming, begging mass of frustrated sensation. The tone of his voice must have been desperate enough, because Fox suddenly opened his lips and went down on Alex, sucking him back into his throat as he massaged the inside of his ass, incredible feeling radiating out from the base of his cock. Alex screamed once, and then it was impossible to stop fucking Fox's mouth as the pleasure built, and Fox sucked, heat and slippery wetness and impossible tightness in his balls as Fox's mouth rose and fell on him, taking him deep into his throat each time.

"Fox, stop, I'm... " Alex tried to push Fox away as he felt the stuttering build of his orgasm, but Fox renewed his efforts, and Alex couldn't hold on, had to give it up for his lover. The electric surge and spurt of his release shot though him, draining him and causing him to lie gasping as Mulder sucked him dry, laughed in delight, and finally released his spent organ just as Alex was about to beg for that too.

Wriggling up to kiss him again, Fox whispered thanks and lay holding onto him as though he were the most precious being that ever lived.

Now more disinclined to move than ever, Alex merely accepted Fox's lovemaking, accepted gentle kisses from him and felt the evidence of the other man's arousal pressed hard against his thigh.

"What are you going to do with that?" His eyes were a little wide as he recalled the size of Mulder's cock. His hand moved to hold it, stroking it lightly for a minute or two, while Fox moaned and thrust into his hand. Finally, making up his mind, he kissed Fox hard, and rolled over onto his belly, spreading his legs in mute invitation.

Mulder, tentative at first, began to stroke his shapely backside, adding more slick as he continued what he'd already begun. Alex felt fingers stretching him as Mulder probed again for that trigger point inside him, and he felt the first stirring tendrils of pleasure as his ass was worked into loose, slippery compliance.

Fox fumbled behind him, and Alex felt the loss of those fingers, crying out as they were removed. Then, firm hands on his hips pulled him up to kneel, and the massive pressure of Fox's cock made him grunt as it stretched him. Finally, as it slipped inside him, he heard Fox gasp, and felt him bite his shoulder as he tried to gain control of himself.

Fox felt huge inside him as he began to move with tiny, careful movements that stretched and burned at first. Gradually, the feelings changed, and pain became pleasure, gentle waves of it that carried him along, gasping. He leaned back on Mulder's shoulder, allowing Fox's hands to roam where they willed as he strained into Alex's tight channel. Alex's insides melted as the cock that was sliding to and fro within him somehow made connection with the cock that protruded from his groin. As Fox increased the urgency of his motion, delicious tingles began to spread through Alex.

Fox was plunging into him wildly now, and reached down at last to take Alex's prick into his hand, pumping it in rhythm with his thrusting motion. The sweet sensation intensified in Alex, and suddenly he was there. He was flying. Fox's dick pushed tingles through into the head of his cock and the lightning hit. He came hard as Fox buried his face in Alex's neck and fucked him desperately, shortening his stroke, moving faster and faster until he let go with a cry and bit at Alex's neck as he strained to pour himself into Alex.

Alex was totally limp now as Fox slumped against him. Slowly the two men slipped forward to lie collapsed together amid the wreckage of Alex's bed.

Alex was confused, even horrified. His life had just been turned around by 180 degrees, and he didn't know how he could keep on doing the job he had to do. His mind raced around in circles as he tried to decide how he could keep what he had, without losing the world.

He had to tell Fox everything, but he knew that Fox's methods were other than his own. Fox would want to take the information he had to Skinner, and Alex couldn't allow that, yet. He racked his brains, trying to decide just exactly how much he could tell Fox.

Fox was nuzzling Alex's shoulders now, his overnight growth of beard providing Alex with a luxurious back-scratch that caused little ripples of sensation to spread through him.

It's too soon. I don't know how I'm going to keep this from self-destructing. He rolled over and turned Fox to face him. His arms went around the other man who moved into the warmth of Alex's embrace, cuddling into Alex's neck. Alex buried his lips in Fox's hair for a minute or two before taking a deep breath.

"Fox," he spoke in a whisper, "We need to talk. There are things I need to tell you." Mulder moaned, and raised his head to bring them face to face.

"Alex, answer me one question. Would it be better if I didn't know?" Fox's low voice came as a surprise to Alex, who had been expecting who knew what question.

"Frankly, love, yes. I know you. You'll fight me every inch of the way if you don't have the answers." Alex's forehead furrowed as he picked his words with care. "You and I are on the same side, but I know things you don't, and that I can't tell you at the moment. I'm desperately trying to work out how to put your mind at ease without putting your life in danger." As he stopped talking he scrutinized Mulder's face, trying his best to gauge how his words were being received.

Fox's eyes were fixed on him, and he had never in his life wanted so much to forget the world and sink into the warm, safe haven of Fox's arms. Only the knowledge that nowhere would be safe, and his Fox would become the breeding ground for some alien spawn stopped him from giving up right there and then. As he looked into the steady gaze from the bright, grey-blue eyes, he gave a broken cry and pulled Fox in to kiss him.

The kiss was a beginning and an ending. The taste of regret was on his tongue and he felt as though he was losing his life.

In a way, he was.

"We can't do this again. I love you, but we have to be apart, at least for now. If ever they heard that you and I were lovers they would kill you, and I would be left behind to mourn you. I can't do that. If you were to die, I couldn't continue." His voice caught then and he was silent, head moving from side to side and eyes closed against the enormity of what he was giving up.

Mulder, who'd listened to him in silence, now cupped Alex's face while he kissed him hard and deep.

"I can't give you up completely, Alex love. There must be a way we can communicate if we need to." The harsh voice grated need with every syllable.

"I can't face the prospect of seeing you dead, Fox, and the two of us united would be too dangerous to let live. Give me a month. We'll be able to get together then. I'm sure I'll be able to get things a little straighter in a month." Alex's voice was quiet, and the husky quality was very marked as he spoke. "Please, Fox, I can't see you die, and people are going to die."

Mulder stared at him intently for so long that Alex began to feel as though he was on trial. Time stretched until Alex wanted to scream, but finally Mulder nodded, and that mouth of his moved in, soft and sweet as a whisper, brushing his forehead, his eyes, and finally his lips.

"Okay, I trust you, Alex. God knows why, but I do. I'll stay away from you until next month. I guess I'd better call you from time to time so I can yell at you or they won't believe it. I promise I won't try to find out what you're doing as long as you promise me that once the month is over, you'll fill me in about the stuff I missed." And wonder of wonders, he was smiling, a soft smile that lit up his features and set Alex's stomach lurching.

"I promise. We'll meet in New York or somewhere like that."

Their pact sealed, there were more kisses before they slowly dragged themselves out of bed to stumble off and shower so they could begin their day.

Separate.

Alex was waiting in the parking garage below the FBI building. He'd spent much of his adult life in environments such as this, and he wondered if he would ever walk in the sunlight again. Skinner was currently interviewing the two agents he'd worked with all this time. Alex had seen the two of them go into the building, and now he waited in the shadows, in the rear seat of the Assistant Director's car until such time as he might appear. He felt drowsy, and almost began to think that it would never happen when, suddenly, without warning, the big man was there, unlocking his vehicle.

The waiting time while he climbed into his vehicle seemed to drag on forever. Alex allowed Skinner to settle himself in the front seat before drawing attention to his presence in the back of the big man's car, then he leaned towards the light as his thumb caressed the control device.

"I've been expecting you to show up." Skinner's voice was not gentle. He virtually snarled at Alex, but Alex remained calm, quiet, confident that he was at last in control. Alex exchanged a few more words with the large Assistant Director, but wouldn't, or couldn't let him off the hook.

As Skinner pressed him for the reason he was there, all Alex could tell him was "All in good time," As he slid furtively back into the shadows once again.

2.8: Stop for a Minute

Alex spent the next few days getting reports together for the CSM. The Consortium was gathering in Washington, and Alex found little or no time to brood. He'd called Dana a couple of times but she'd been cool towards him, and he had a sneaking suspicion that she'd come to her senses. That was fine by Alex. He'd started his affair with her because he'd wanted to goad Mulder and now he had no real desire to do that any more. She was in some ways an innocent bystander who'd been drawn into the middle. He wished her well. He had no desire to hurt her.

He found it difficult to concentrate on anything. It was as if he'd opened a door that, until now he hadn't known existed, and now he was lost in a new place. Visions of Fox Mulder plagued him. He could think of nothing but the feel of Mulder's lips on him. Mulder, eyes closed, and head thrown back in the throes of his orgasm was before him constantly. He had a perpetual hard on, and even though he continued to jerk off repeatedly, nothing seemed to help him.

He had it bad for Fox Mulder.

Several times he'd picked up the phone to dial Mulder, but he knew it was a really bad idea. Mulder seemed to be a habit he couldn't break, and it had only taken one night. He needed a fix. Dammit! He had to break the spell somehow. He felt so vulnerable.

He had just delivered his report to a group of executives from the different chapters of the Consortium, and was packing up the visual aids he had used. He was at ease amongst the powerful now, and felt comfortable. He'd carved out the position he now occupied. The Brit had helped, and Alex felt unexpectedly misty eyed as he recalled his elderly mentor, but he knew that he wouldn't have been able to make a place for himself had he not been intelligent, ruthless and good at the things he did.

As a hand laid itself on his shoulder, he jumped, and turning, saw that it was the Smoker. His heart dropped into his boots.

"Alex, I have a favor to ask." Alex's head came up at that. CSM had barely spoken to him for months, and he thought he had managed to cloak his recent activities. Maybe he was wrong. He knew he couldn't afford to allow the Smoker to find out what he had been doing lately. The more he could keep this man at arms length the better he would feel.

He was wary, looking into the face of the evil old bastard who had manipulated him for all the years he had known him. Hell, this man had manipulated everybody. He made them all dance like puppets, he and Fox, Skinner, Dana Scully, all of them capering and bowing while he, the Cancerman, pulled the strings.

One day... one day I'll kill him. The Brit told me that I was going to need him, but I can't imagine why.

"What kind of a favor are you looking for?" The Smoker shook a cigarette free from the pack in his hands, raising it to his lips and absently flicking his lighter. Alex waited. Puffing out a cloud of smoke that made Alex grit his teeth, the Smoker appeared to search for words.

"There's somebody I need your help with. He needs..." there was a pause, "supervision. He's new, and he's young. He shows great promise, but he has yet to be tried. I think he's ready for testing, but I need you to watch over him for me and make sure that he comes to no harm. I would consider it a significant favor." The look on the Smoker's face was strange, and Alex felt that the conversation was bordering on the surreal. He could sense that something lay hidden. He waited.

"We need this man. He's our new presence within the FBI, and it's important we not jeopardize that at this time." Alex's eyes gleamed as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. He knew who this was now, and it was wonderful. Oh, God, yes it was! "His name is Jeffrey. That's all you need to know. Will you help him for me?"

All I need to know? You arrogant bastard! You'll wish that was all I knew.

Alex smiled at the Smoker, a guileless, wide-eyed smile that spoke of perfect innocence.

"It'll be a pleasure." His voice was gentle, and his face sincere. Inside, he was rubbing his hands together in glee at the thought of babysitting the Smoker's precious offspring. It would indeed be a pleasure. The Smoker nodded and smiled at Alex then, and began to outline his plans for blooding Jeffrey Spender.

Later, Alex sat behind the wheel of the car that awaited Jeff Spender. Fierce thoughts were chasing madly through his skull. He knew that Spender was now in control of the X-Files, and that Fox was being systematically squeezed out of the FBI. The Smoker had positively gloated over that, and Alex was now determined to hurt the old bastard before he killed him. He was happily reflecting on the fact that tonight would be the start of a beautiful payback, when the car door opened, and a man got in.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but this was definitely not it. He'd read file after file on Jeff Spender, and the picture he had built up for himself was that of an angry, humorless young clone of his nemesis. This slender, obviously petrified young man definitely didn't match the vivid picture he'd painted for himself. He sat, rigid in the back seat. He had a gimlet in his hands and he was waving it around haphazardly.

This was definitely Jeff Spender, Alex had seen the photographs on the file, and the resemblance to his father was plain in the line of his jaw and the set of his head on his shoulders, but there was none of the aggression he had expected, no competent arrogance here. This man was an innocent adrift in a sea of predators. Alex wondered what the Smoker had said to him that had given him that stunned, despairing look, meanwhile, it looked as if he was going to be babysitting with a vengeance.

Yes, a vengeance!

He turned to the man cowering in the back seat and told him to be careful where he pointed the gimlet. Spender jumped, and laid it down very carefully, it was obvious that the man had no idea what it was for, or how to use it.

He pulled up to the front of the house that was their destination. Spender got out, and Alex watched as he approached it and was admitted. As Jeff entered the house, Alex slid from the car himself, checked that his own gimlet was at the ready, and prowled around the house, searching for a means of entering. He found French windows ajar at the back of the house and ghosted in, passing silently through unoccupied rooms until he heard the sounds of low speech emanating from behind a curtain.

//He'll never do it. He's just incapable of this.// and as he arrived in sight of the innocent and his would-be target, he could see that a struggle was going on, one that Jeff would lose in only a few minutes more.

He moved in and ended the creature. The gimlet slid home, and it fell. He turned to Jeff, and watched the other man as shock and panic set in. He decided all over again that this wasn't fair, adding yet another crime to the list for which the Smoker would eventually pay.

This is his own son, goddammit. How could he send his own son to his death like this? He's had no training, no warning. How could he do it?

By this time, Jeff had sunk into the chair to which Alex had steered him, and watched, apparently unseeing, as the alien melted before him, turning into a green slime that gave off noxious fumes as it decayed and vanished. He looked pale, shocked, beyond terrified.

Alex shrugged to himself, and began the self appointed task of re-building Jeffrey Spender to his liking.

"You've never seen one before, have you?" The question hung in the still air as Spender sat, huddled in his seat, and the rebel alien degenerated into little more than a puddle of slime. Spender offered no response, and it seemed as though he hadn't heard.

Alex began the task of soothing the younger man, and eventually he began to respond, to take note again, although the horror had not yet left his eyes. As Spender became able to take note, Alex began to weave his web. He slowly unfolded the story of how the Smoker had used his mother. As he did so, he almost felt guilty.

Almost, but not quite, and as Jeff mumbled "I'll be my own great man," and stalked away, Alex smiled, somewhat savagely, before following him out. Spender's indignation had only taken him as far as the car, and now he stood, lost and shrunken, a child in a man's body with nowhere to go. Alex strode to him rapidly, anxious that the possible watchers would see no more than he intended.

"You don't have to be like him, Jeff." Alex placed a hand gently on Spender's shoulder "You owe him nothing, nothing at all." And the dam burst. Spender crumpled before Alex, shoulders hunched and shaking as gut wrenching sobs were pulled from him. Alex ran his hand around to stroke the wiry hair at the back of the other man's neck, and Spender turned blindly then, flinging himself against Alex as he sobbed. There was nothing Alex could do but hold him carefully as his distress wore itself down, his hand caressing the slim neck as he comforted the disillusioned man.

"Do you know what it's like to be different? To grow up without a father? To have a mother that makes crazy claims and involve you in causes that make all the other kids ostracize you?" The voice was muffled, and Alex laid his cheek against the springy hair, murmuring small words of comfort as he rubbed the still heaving shoulders.

"Come on, Jeff, get in the car. We shouldn't stay here." Alex spoke softly, and it took Spender a moment or two before he finally pulled away from Alex and climbed into the front of the car. Alex watched in approval, nodded, and then returned to the driver's seat, put the car in gear and pulled away.

As Alex steered the car towards his home, Spender sat in an apparent trance, not even asking where they were headed. He was dull-eyed and made no attempts at conversation. Finally, Alex drew an audible breath.

"I grew up without parents, yeah, so I sympathize. Nobody needs to go through the kind of childhood you had." He left the words hanging and returned to his driving, noting out of the corner of his eye that Spender looked more than ever like a beaten dog.

As they entered Alex's garage and parked, Spender stirred apathetically. He turned dark, hollow eyes on Alex, and his lugubrious face spoke of ghosts he had yet to deal with.

"Where are we?" Alex, in the process of unbuckling his seatbelt, turned to Spender.

"It's where I live. Come on." As biddable as a child, Jeffrey Spender emerged from the vehicle and followed blindly behind the reassuring shape of Alex's back. Entering the kitchen, Alex moved to a cupboard from which he withdrew a bottle of brandy. He poured them both a generous shot, passing Jeffrey his with a gesture of encouragement.

"Drink that. It'll help." Alex demonstrated, raising his glass to his lips and sipping at the spirit within. Jeffrey looked at him uncertainly, and Alex wondered what the man might have been told about him to put that expression on his face. He seemed to think that Alex was trying to poison him.

"I don't even know your name." When he spoke, Alex almost missed it. He was so quiet. Inwardly he was raging against the cynical bastard who was this man's father. The boy he was with was damaged. He recognized the signs, and sure, he, Alex was damaged too, but he'd grown stronger, his determination expanding as his body and soul had become scratched and tarnished.

"My name is Alex..." He got no further. Spender's eyes widened at that. Alex was a little taken aback at the response he got to his name.

"Krycek? You're Alex Krycek?" Alex affected and ironic bow, and came close to laughing out loud as the other man's eyes widened.

"I'm not a goblin. I don't know what you've heard about me but it's probably gross exaggeration." Alex was busily hunting for the cookie jar, and once he found it, offered the contents to Spender. He sighed with pleasure and bit into a cookie that appeared to be liberally studded with smarties.

Spender, who'd been watching him the way one would watch an angry scorpion, suddenly appeared to cast his misgivings to the wind, and helped himself to the offered treats.

"I want to thank you for what you did back there." Spender's voice was bleak, and his expression was that of a man who believed himself to be defeated. Alex moved closer to him, once again placing a hand on the narrow shoulder as he met Spender's gaze with his own, terrifying sincerity.

"Think nothing of it, Jeff. We all need someone to understand once in a while." Spender's eyes rose to meet interested green orbs, and he swayed a little.

"What I want is to belong. I want to have a place somewhere. You don't know what it's like to have nobody. You couldn't." The voice was a monotone and Alex was silent, fixing him with the shining, measured intensity of his stare.

"Why don't you shake free of him, Jeff? Find yourself a new place and a nice little woman to keep you warm when things get rough?" His hand slid to the angle of neck and shoulder, and his thumb began absently caressing the other man's jaw line as he watched the thoughts drift over the planes of his face as though they were seeking a safe mooring.

"We all need someone to hold us once in a while, Jeff." And the face crumpled before him, mouth fraying and stoic expression melting like wax as he broke down. Wordlessly, Alex suited actions to words, and held Jeffrey Spender while he cried.

Spender had no spare flesh on his body, and Alex, soothing and stroking as the other man's distress subsided, never quite realized exactly when it became a certainty that they would make love. The transition from comfort to passion was so gradual that it was only when Jeff lifted his head and Alex found himself suddenly mouth to mouth with him, the full lips melting against his own, that he realized they were going to become lovers. For a split second his mind dwelt on the inadvisability of this, and he pulled back from the heat of the other man's mouth.

"Don't be thinking I'm the love of your life, Jeff. Don't do this if you expect a long term relationship. I have a love in my life already. All I can offer you is comfort for now." He examined the face in front of him. The habitual scowl had gone, and Spender suddenly looked much younger, boyish and sweet.

Alex knew that he had already killed this man, this boy. His death now was inevitable, and he felt a qualm as he studied the face of this new victim of his. There was weariness in his eyes, and a small trace of something that might be called hope. As Alex watched him, the lips spread into a frayed smile, and for just a second he was transformed from his nonentity, made beautiful by his smile.

"Ships that pass in the night, Alex?" Well, at least that's honest." Alex quailed as Spender accused him of honesty, and flinched unnoticed as Spender moved to lay his lips over Alex's once again, surprising Alex with his urgency as he pressed close in, forcing Alex's lips to part and admit his avidly seeking tongue.

Alex shuddered as his body was pulled close into a bruising embrace. He'd somehow imagined the son of the smoker to be a diffident, somewhat repressed man. The sheer greed of the young man's caresses rocked him back on his heels as the quiet, reserved looking Spender devoured him, mouth sucking greedily as his hands pressed and pulled, squeezed and stroked.

There was no need to feign arousal for him. The sheer urgency with which Spender attacked him was enough to excite him, and the other man's lack of skill was more than made up for by the clumsy intensity of his lovemaking.

Alex responded, partly in spite of himself. He didn't want to build any kind of relationship with this... this victim. Ha wanted no part of the coming rebellion of son against father. All he wanted was to stand a safe distance away, and watch the inevitable storm.

Yet, here he was, with Jeff Spender's tongue half way down his throat, and Jeff Spender's definitely hard cock nudging firmly against his belly while the man himself sucked the very breath out of his lungs. Spender's hands were everywhere, now pulling Alex's butt tight against him, next cupping the back of his head as the kiss went on and on.

Jeff had been tugging at the edges of the work shirt Alex wore, and when it came free from the waistband of his jeans, his hand slid beneath it, roaming the length of his back as Spender's mouth continued its onslaught.

He felt a strange tenderness for this young man he suddenly found himself cradling in his arms. As Spender began to take command of him, stroking his body and pulling him in tight, Alex suddenly thought 'why not'? And when the other man unfastened his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, he allowed it to happen, allowed the mounting feelings to take him over.

Spender had him pressed up against the kitchen counter, and now he'd dropped his head down to suck at Alex's nipple while his hands roamed up and down the length of Alex's torso. Alex stroked a hand through the short curls, reflecting that it was a very long time since anyone had actually topped him. It was obvious that Spender was going to want to. Alex smiled.

The boy deserved it.

He was definitely making Alex feel good. The little moans and grunts of need he gave out as he licked and sucked on Alex's torso were travelling straight from his ears down to his cock, and Alex felt adored. He felt worshipped.

He liked it.

A sudden decision made, Alex stroked gentle fingers under Jeff Spender's chin, cupping it, and gently forcing his head up until he was facing Alex. His eyes were dazed, his face flushed and chest heaving. It took a second or two before the other man focused. Alex called his name gently, his thumb moving over the corner of the generous mouth.

"Come on, Jeff. It's more comfortable upstairs." Spender whimpered a little, and then nodded. The two of them moved through the house to Alex's bedroom, and Alex turned to face Jeff, his body tingling in anticipation at the other man's obvious excitement. Jeff was trying hard with shaky hands to take off his shirt, and when Alex moved in to assist, he lost it, and stood, shuddering and helpless as Alex carefully undid the buttons, laying bare the creamy skin and wiry musculature beneath.

Dark hair curled over knotted muscle, and Alex could see the rise and fall of his unsteady breathing as he pinched a nipple absently. He pulled Jeff to him, and kissed him deep and hard.

Once more, Jeff claimed the kiss, bending Alex back and devouring him as he sucked on his mouth. Alex moaned, and fumbled for the waistband of Jeff's pants, fingers exploring the tight skin, tracing the ridges of the slim hips as he pushed down slacks and underwear. As Spender's cock sprang free, Alex ran his curious hand over the length of it, making its owner cry out into his mouth.

He pulled away then, grinning at Jeff, who stared back, unfocused at first, until a small answering smile found its way to the surface of his being. He looked down at himself, chuckled ruefully, and then began to divest himself of the remainder of his clothing. A blush stole across his features, and Alex sat down, squirming out of jeans and underwear as fast as he could.

He'd barely succeeded in shedding his garments when Jeff pounced, bearing him back onto the bed as his mouth sought him, suckling at lips, then throat, then nipples, as he worked his way south. As Jeff closed an eager mouth over his cock, Alex spread his legs wide and arched backwards, content for the moment to feel the heated suction of Jeff's urgent caresses. He felt overwhelmed by the need of this man he was with. For the first time that he could remember since Mulder had raped him, he relinquished control, permitting Jeff to lead, to do as he wished. Giving up the reins he allowed himself to sink into the sweet sensations being generated by Jeff's tugging mouth and lashing tongue. As he felt the bubbling rise of his climax, he put his hand down to stop the young man's onslaught.

"Slow down, Slugger. It will all be over in a second if you don't." Again, the wide-eyed, unfocused stare that Jeff bent on him had him wondering if the other man had heard him. Then he grinned wickedly and squirmed up to lie alongside Alex, delicately avoiding Alex's dick as he bent to apply his mouth to the crook of his elbow, and then the hollow at the base of his throat.

Alex was in heaven. His body felt good, felt the rush. He was going to let go, really let go and get fucked until he couldn't stand. He gestured to the nightstand.

"There's lube there. Do it to me, Jeff. I'm ready." And the sound of his voice, rough with need, made him laugh again. It had been a long time since he had been able to give himself up this way. It was wonderful. He snaked his hand around to cup the back of Jeff's head, pulling him down to meet his mouth, delving deep with his probing tongue as he writhed in an ecstasy of need.

Jeff pulled away, looking for the lube Alex had mentioned, and once he had found it, looked suddenly lost, holding the small bottle in his hands. Alex looked up at him through thick lashes.

"Come on, Jeff. Do it to me." He said again, and Jeff flushed, frowning uncertainly.

"Have you ever done this before?" Alex raised a careful finger to stroke down the stubble-stained skin of the young man who half sat beside him, seemingly poised for flight as he trembled in confusion. "It's okay, baby." Alex kissed him again, long and hard, and then began to coach his inexpert lover, wondering why he was doing this, but knowing, knowing somehow that he needed to.

"Just coat your fingers with it, Jeff. That's good." As Spender matched the deed to the words Alex took the slick hand and drew it gently down his own body until it lay against the underside of his balls. He held it there, moving it to stroke against his perineum.

"I'm gonna be tight. I haven't done this much, Jeff. You're going to have to get me ready or it will hurt me." He continued to press Spender's fingers against him, and Spender suddenly got the idea. Alex felt a warm, slick finger push into him, and arched up, gasping out his pleasure. "Oh, baby, yes, do that! Just like that!"

Spender laughed shortly and began to stroke in and out of him, bending his head to kiss him, gently at first, and then more urgently until by the time they were done he thought his lips might be bruised. The younger man attacked him as though he were starving.

Jeff had certainly got the idea now, and a second finger joined the first, working in concert to press in on the gland at the base of his cock. He began to moan in earnest at that point, and pushed his hips up against Jeff's hand.

"Oh, God, Jeff. That feels so good, so fucking good. Hurry up, please." And Spender drew himself up with an air of controlled dignity that had been lacking just moments before. He knelt between Alex's thighs, and Alex could see that Jeff's cock was dripping. He reached for the lube and began to slather it over the hard, smooth, satiny surface. Spender watched the other man's hand moving against his twitching cock, as his own continued to drive Alex wild.

When Jeff began to moan and shiver, Alex finally resorted to begging, and at last the young man took away his hand, placing the rounded head of his slippery cock up against Alex, uncertainty once again in his face as he looked down at the man lying beneath him.

"Are you sure? It looks so big." Alex laughed, a little wildly, and lunged, applying pressure that caused the glistening helmet to pop inside him. They both moaned, and Jeff gasped "Oh, my God, you're so hot!"

They were still for a moment, growing accustomed to the feel of the invasion, and then Alex wriggled again.

"More, Jeff, Come on! Give me more." And Jeff gave a strange cry, bucked his hips, and slid in tighter against Alex until he was encased in the rippling velvet heat as far as he could go.

Alex wrapped his legs around Jeff's waist and pulled him down to kiss him thoroughly before breathing into his ear in a voice made ragged by desire.

"Come on, Jeff. One fall, one submission, or a knockout to decide the winner. Do your worst." And Jeff turned, grinning, to kiss his ear, before replying.

"You already won in that case. You're a knockout."

Then, he began to fuck Alex. He moved slowly at first, as he grew accustomed to the sensation of Alex's ass clinging, sucking, and radiating heat. He pulled out and slid home deliberately, straining with every ounce of energy he possessed. Alex, his back resting against Jeff's knees, felt slivers of aching, tingling pleasure invade him with each new thrust of the stiff cock inside him, and he writhed a counterpoint to each of Jeff's solid, piston punches.

The speed gathered, and so did the delight. Alex was on fire. There was a gathering tide of something wonderful gathering at the base of his spine and tendrils of ecstasy flashed down to yank on his balls each time Jeff slid home. When Jeffrey Spender finally began to lose control, hips jerking gracelessly and head forced back until the tendons of his neck stood out like ropes, Alex was already there, passing the point of no return. He felt as though he was being split apart by the pleasure that knifed through him. His hand fell to his cock, and he squeezed, jerked on it hard and fast, his body rigid as his dick spurted seed, milky white and glistening, shooting up his belly and onto his chest as he cried out.

Jeff was gone, totally gone, back arched and hips slamming in short, punching strokes. His eyes were closed and his head was back as he grabbed Alex, pulling him closer, harder, fingers digging in as he fucked him. When he came, Alex felt him to the core as he flooded Alex with his juice. It made Alex feel inexplicably tender towards Jeff. He was ready and waiting when the young man collapsed onto his chest, flushed and panting.

Too drained to do anything more, Alex nuzzled into the warmth of Jeffrey's neck and slept.

He awoke in the night to the sound of muffled sobbing, and not knowing what else to do he rolled to cover Jeff, his mouth seeking the voluptuous warmth of the other man's lips.

Slowly, gently, mouths locked against each other, the two men strained body to body and Alex felt himself stiffening all over again as Jeff clutched him tightly.

"It's okay, Jeff. You're not alone." Alex moved to nip and nibble his way down over the other man' throat, across his chest and down past the hard, flat belly with its dimpled navel. Reaching the swelling prick, he sucked it deep into his throat as Jeff ran his fingers through his lover's short hair, finally fixing his palms flat to Alex's head.

Alex liked the taste of Jeff, musk and salt fluid with an underlying taint of bitterness. He pulled away for a second before beginning to lick and suck first the sturdy penis, and then lower, to tongue and mouth his balls. Jeff spread his legs wide, his fingers tracing tight circles on Alex's scalp.

As Alex licked and tugged the loose skin covering Jeff's balls. He felt them tighten up, and redoubled his attentions, lapping over the other man's perineum before parting his ass cheeks to lick at the crinkled skin of his anus. A whimper from Jeff told him that he was getting somewhere, and he darted his tongue into the tight opening, plunging it in and out as his hand reached to grasp hold of the leaking, twitching cock.

Jeff thrashed his head from side to side, one hand releasing Alex's hair to travel to his own mouth as Alex lazily pumped his dick, while his tongue slid in and out of the clinging depths of his ass.

Alex could feel Jeff's tension build. He relinquished his hold on the now throbbing cock, searching for the tube that lay in the tangle of bedclothes. As soon as he found it, he spread glistening oil over his dick and then rolled to lie on his left side, pulling Jeffrey up against him so that his cock pressed up along the crease of Jeff's ass. He slid forward into Jeff's warmth, and held tightly to him, mouth buried in the hollow of the other man's neck and shoulder as he inched into him.

Jeff was tight, wet satin inside, and cool, smooth silk under his stroking hand. As he began to move, he could feel the inner ring of muscle clasping the base of his cock and he thrust in, pulled back and thrust again, losing himself in the tingling build up of delectable fire along his dick. He heard Jeff try out and he took the other man's cock in his hand and began to jerk him off, urging him on with growled obscenities.

Jeff came fast then, his body spasming as he shot his load and Alex followed him, losing himself in warmth and throbbing sweetness to power himself out into the silken depths of his temporary lover.

They fell back then, Alex's hand absently drawing small circles on the spare flesh of Jeff's stomach as he felt himself slip from the other man's body.

A soft sigh was all that Jeff could manage then before he drifted off, the soft, regular sound of his deepening breathing telling Alex that his insomnia treatment had worked. Reaching for the Kleenex, Alex performed a rough and ready clean up as the young man slept.

He awoke the next morning to find Jeff still comatose, sprawled out on his back with his arms flung wide. Climbing out of the bed he surveyed this needy young man for whom he'd felt such a rush of tenderness.

His features were softened by sleep, and he looked absurdly boyish. He was slim and pale, and one long leg had escaped the duvet, lying in an innocently provocative fashion. Alex contemplated waking him, but then decided to shower, leaving him to enjoy a little more sleep.

Half an hour later, freshly showered and dressed in sweats he'd pulled on hastily, Alex returned bearing a tray with coffee and toast. Putting it down carefully, he bent to kiss the slumbering man on his lips. Sleepy brown eyes opened part way, and Jeff smiled a bemused smile, slipping strong arms around his neck, pulling Alex into him until he overbalanced and collapsed onto the laughing man.

"Hang on a minute." Alex chuckled out loud as he scrambled to get his balance. " I brought you sustenance, but I don't think you need it. You seem to have more than enough energy."

The young man pulled him in for a lazy kiss once more as he finished speaking, and when they finally broke apart, Jeff took Alex's face between his two hands, holding him captive as he searched his face.

"Thanks, Alex. Thanks for being with me, and not making me face this alone. It means more to me than you could know." The brown eyes were unguarded, and Alex felt a lump rise in his throat.

"Jeff, listen to me. Stay here for as long as you need. No one will bother you. Stay here ‘til you find somewhere to go that's away from here, then run. Get away from Washington, get away from the X-files, and most of all, get away from that fucking father of yours, or you're a dead man." Even as he spoke, he could tell that Jeff wasn't going to do it, wasn't going to take his offer and save himself, and he felt the back of his eyes sting.

"Alex, I can't. I've got to get my mother out of his hands. She's all I have, I can't just leave her to his tender mercies." Alex had known he would say something like this. He'd known all along that Jeffrey Spender was as good as dead. He bowed his head.

"We all do what we have to do. Take care of yourself, Jeff." There was nothing more to say after that.

2.9: Four Seasons in One Day

They ate the toast and drank the coffee, talking about nothing of importance. Once Spender showered and was dressed, Alex raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Where would you like me to drop you, Jeff?" The young man smiled his thanks as the two of them threaded their way back down through the house that was now bustling with activity as the housekeeper saw to its smooth running.

"I'm going to take my mother out of there and put her somewhere safe. Then I'm going to settle a score with Fox Mulder once and for all." Spender's eyes flashed, and Alex blinked at him.

"Mulder? Why would you want to settle anything with Mulder?" Alex thought madly for a moment. Jeff could not be allowed to harm Mulder, but Alex didn't want Jeff to come to any harm either.

"He's like a thorn in my side. Everywhere I go I butt up against him. Fox Mulder! He's a self indulgent, hypocritical, manipulating liar. He pulls the wool over everyone's eyes. He's bewitched my mother. She thinks he's a god." Jeff closed his mouth sharply. Alex gazed at him, as if fascinated.

" What are you going to do this thorn in your side?" Alex smiled and Jeff began to tell him of the alarm he'd set that would summon everyone to his office the moment that anyone other than he or Diana accessed any of the computer's files. He was still telling Alex about his dislike of Mulder when Alex drew up outside the FBI Headquarters and let him go.

Alex watched as the young agent was swallowed by the gloom of the foyer of the Hoover building, and then, swearing, he punched in Mulder's number.

"Mulder. " The voice made the blood thump through Alex's head. Alex closed his eyes, hoping against hope that he could prevent any tragedy from occurring. His hand shook as he tried to think.

"Mulder, don't say a word. Just listen to me. You're being watched and if you go near the X-Files database, you are going to be in trouble." Mulder' short laugh stopped him.

"We're there. We're in the X-files right now. What do you know?" Alex hung up and dialed another number, biting back a curse as he did so.

"Assistant Director Skinner." Alex sat, eyes squeezed shut as he prayed fervently.

"Walter, drop what you are doing, right now, and go down to the basement, to the X-files. There, you're going to drag Fox Mulder out by force if necessary, thus saving him from his own folly. Spender's looking to frame him." He grinned as a growl emanated from the phone, but Walter Skinner was at least a sensible man, and he wasted no time arguing with Alex, even though Alex could feel the waves of hatred emanating from the phone itself. He was abruptly disconnected, and wondered just how long he had to wait before he discovered what had happened, and whether he had been in time.

He pulled back into the traffic. There was little he could do here. He headed back to his office; aware of the work he still had to get through.

Back at the office, he kicked his heels, unable to settle to anything until he had learned the outcome of this hasty attempt to save Fox. He was so on edge that he found he was making mistake after mistake. When the phone rang, he grabbed for it, happy for the distraction. It was Dana Scully.

He winced. His tinkering with Dana's affections seemed to have taken place a very long time ago. What had he been thinking? Everything was going wrong, but at least now he could find out just how fucked up things were.

" Hey Dana. I missed you. How are you?" He thought the gaiety in his voice sounded as forced as it was. She obviously thought so too as her words dropped, cold and hard as pebbles.

"Cut out the social niceties, Alex. I want to know how much responsibility you share for this latest series of events." Alex grinned to himself. She was something else. She was as feral as he was himself, and frankly he had much better manners than she did.

"Dana, honey. I'll be happy to answer whatever questions you have if you just abandon the idea that I might be a thought reader, or omniscient, and just tell me what the fuck's happening?" His voice rose a little at the end of his sentence, and hitched against his will, try as he might to control it. She must have picked up on his lapse, because there was a momentary silence, and then,

"I'm sorry Alex. I guess I'm just taking it out on you. I don't know why I should think you could possibly have anything to do with it. Mulder and I were suspended today, pending a disciplinary hearing." He gasped at that. He couldn't help himself. Damned Skinner hadn't been in time. Damn Jeff and his grudges. Damn everything. He needed Fox in the FBI. He needed him in the X-files. He wanted Fox to be happy and this would hit at the heart of him.

"Is there anything I can do? Do you want to meet somewhere?" His brain was screaming in protest even as he issued the invitation, but the answer floored him.

"No. It's best if we don't see each other. You are a very handsome, persuasive man, Alex Krycek, but I know the only reason you seduced me is to upset Mulder, and it worked. I was just a tool for you, and I don't like that. I'm just glad that you aren't involved in this present mess. " He drew a breath.

"Does that mean you still like me?" The question sounded lame even to him, and he found himself holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

She laughed shortly. "I need notice of that question, Alex. I'm not sure I know you, even a tiny bit. When I do, I'll get back to you."

There was a click, and she was gone.

The next day or two passed quietly. He wondered how Jeff was doing, but made no attempt to find out what was happening to him.

Better I don't know.

Watching over Mulder was taking up a lot of his time. Mulder seemed to have accepted his suspension without any of the fight he was famous for, and Alex was wondering what he'd have to do to motivate him again, when he received a call from the Smoker.

"Alex, the time has come. We've all worked for this and you deserve to share. We're going. We're all going." Inside, Alex cringed. He was out of time. What the hell could he do?

"What about Cassandra? I thought you lost her. It will be worth nothing if you don't take Cassandra with you." His mind was racing. He had thought she was safe. He had really thought he had time. His mind raced furiously.

The smoker's answer hit him like a blow. "Cassandra need not worry you. She'll be there."

"When are you going?" Was there still time? It was obviously too late to save Cassandra, but he might still manage to lay hands on the information that was the key to activating the genetic material that lay dormant in Fox. "I'll be right there."

He slammed down the phone without waiting for a reply. Fuck them! Fuck them all for doing this. He'd only needed a week or two more and his own plans would have been complete. Now he was forced to scrabble about to salvage any shred of hope there might be.

Climbing into his car, he raced to the offices where the Consortium had been for the past 50 years.

Gone! All gone.

He was too late. Sinking into a chair he pummeled his brain in his attempt to find a way out. He had no idea how he was going to achieve his goal, but he had come too far now to lie down and give up. Sighing heavily, he was about to pull himself to his feet when the door opened, and Jeffrey Spender came into the room. Alex felt vicious. He looked at the young man, and saw nothing but an irritation, a loose canon, a factor to get in his way. Idly, the back of his mind recalled previous tenderness, but today Alex was angry. There would be no tenderness here.

He smiled a saccharine smile.

"You're looking for your father. He's gone. They're all gone." He gloated inwardly as Jeff's face changed, and fell.

"But they're coming back." The man was completely crushed, and Alex felt savage joy.

"No." He gazed at Jeff, willing him to feel just as bad as he did himself. "No, they've left for good."

There was a pause. Jeff's brow furrowed, and he blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, they've abandoned these offices." Malice ate at him. He wanted to slap the silly face that mooned at him. He would hurt him. He wanted to get him back for the pain he had caused, and the sheer inconvenience his resentment of Mulder had created.

"But they've been here for fifty years." Alex felt like shaking the naive young man. He stood suddenly, and Spender closed his mouth abruptly as Alex began to walk towards him.

"I don't think you understand..." His voice was silky and menacing. Jeff gulped. This was a different Alex from their last meeting and he was suddenly afraid of the man who was approaching him, feral eyes unwavering as he drew near.

"W..where did they go?" Spender was suddenly unsure of himself. The world had seemed so safe until this man had come into his life and set it on its ear.

"To West Virginia. They'll be transported by the colonists and begin medical preparations to receive the hybrid genes. Except for your father. He's gone to get your mother." Alex saw Jeffrey flinch at that, and rejoiced. He'd twist the knife in his wounds. Jeff would be sorry for his behavior or Alex would know why.

"No one can get to her. I've got her secured away." He faltered as the smile on Alex's face widened, giving him unpleasant thrills.

"Secured away? He's already had his doctors looking at her." Jeff looked at him imploringly, as though anything that Alex said might change what was. Alex snickered softly, and the young man took a deep breath.

"I've got her under guard." He blustered, and Alex shook his head, pityingly.

"She's probably being prepared as we speak, Jeffrey." He moved past Jeff, and towards the door, then faltered a little as Jeff hurtled past him on his way, presumably, to rescue Cassandra, without whom this mess would not be unfolding. Alex gestured after him as he went, and then shook his head.

In a few short words, Alex had disabused the young man of any thoughts that he might achieve success. It hadn't, however, helped his mood any. The way he felt as he followed the rapidly departing Spender could best be described as savage. He was furious.

He was angry with himself as much as with the Smoker or Jeffrey. He should have kept better watch. He should have predicted what Jeff was going to do. He should have warned Mulder earlier. He should have... should have...

He thought of dialing Mulder but decided against it, and as he headed out to the laboratory in Virginia he grabbed the phone and instead, called Scully.

By the time she answered, he'd forgotten to stay calm. The voice that came out of him as he drove on through the dying evening was hoarse with worry.

"Dana, It's Alex. Where's Mulder?" He didn't want to do this. Why had it all fallen on his shoulders?

Please, give me the right answer. Please!

"He's with that bitch Diana." She was terse, sounding as irritable as he felt himself, and once again Alex pondered the similarity between the two of them. "They're heading to some air base. I'm on my way now to stop them."

"Dana, you have to keep him away. I don't care how, but stop him from going with her. Drug him, shoot him, fuck him. I don't care how, but you have to stop him. I promise I'll explain a little when I see you, but right now, please suspend your disbelief a little and keep him away... and alive?" He didn't give her a chance to question. He merely closed up his cellphone and concentrated ferociously on the road as his car ate up the miles between him and his destination.

Arriving at the facility, he headed for the laboratory where the purity tests had been conducted. Pulling on the protective suit he entered the long room where the item he needed was to be found.

Please, oh please. He repeated, and Alex, who had never had a god, or indeed much faith in anything but himself, found that he was chanting a litany of prayers.

Alex opened the container where the alien fetus had been stored, and as he did so, he realized that he had no further hope of success.

The flask was empty. His solution to the problems the world was facing was so much dust beneath his feet. He screamed then. He had to. The rage that filled him would otherwise have killed him. He screamed his anger out at the empty walls and threw down the protective clothing he had been wearing. Then he stormed out, all his remaining focus now on safeguarding Fox Mulder's life.

He stomped through the empty corridors checking for signs that the flask might still be on the premises. As he went, he felt his purpose slipping away from him. He might as well give up now. He had been so close, and now there was no hope. He paused in his relentless pace and leaned against the wall, hands splayed against it as water welled in his eyes.

Fox. There was still Fox, for now at any rate. He might as well go find him, before he too was lost to Alex. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and turned wearily back to his task. He knew who would have taken the fetus, and where it would have gone. He would just have to go and get it back. He knew where it could be found, but he still had to go through motions of searching here, just in case.

When they came upon him suddenly he was shocked. His usually fine-honed sense of danger had not triggered any feelings of unease, and yet, here they were, standing right in front of him.

"Can you help us, please?" He raised weary eyes, and found himself once again looking into the eyes of Jeffrey Spender.

Not now! I don't have time for this right now. The man was babbling about escaping. About guards not letting him out. Didn't he understand that it didn't matter any more? Jeff twittered on about his companion, and Alex furrowed his brow. What companion? What the hell was he talking about?

The slight figure moved forward from the gloom where she had been hiding, and just for a minute, Alex thought it was Cassandra. Hope flared for an instant, only to die once more.

"It's all going to hell."

He knew who this was. Not Cassandra, who would have put him back into the game by her very presence. As he stared at the degraded piece of human flotsam that stood before him, he almost laughed.

Marita!

Not glossy, not golden, no longer poised and perfect, she appeared old, and tired, and grey. It was a good look for her. Wordlessly, Alex turned and walked away, unwilling messiah with his unwanted disciples. They could follow or not. He didn't care. As he reached his car they were still behind him and shrugging he allowed them to climb in the back. What did it matter to him if they died here, or in Washington?

He put his foot down hard on the gas and the car surged forward. They were just on the outskirts of Alexandria when Alex spoke for the first time.

"Have you changed your mind about Fox Mulder and the X-Files?" He wasn't sure why he was even bothering. Mulder was probably dead by now, if Diana Fowley had been able to deliver him over to the aliens.

Spender seemed lost in a brown study, and didn't respond for a moment. Then he leaned forward.

"Do you think he'll make a difference? Do you think he'll be able to do anything about my bastard of a father." His voice was hoarse. Here was a man at the end of his tether, and Alex felt a sickened glee at the thought that he had helped to bring Jeff to this.

"Do you think you could do better?" Alex's words were cold. He no longer had any hope of winning. All he wanted was to make the callow young fool shut up for once in his stupid life. Spender subsided, lapsing back into thought, and for that small mercy Alex was devoutly grateful.

Jeff roused himself enough to offer directions, and Alex dropped them off at what must have been Spender's residence, pulling away without waiting to see where they went. He knew where he was going as he headed for Mulder's apartment. He no longer had any particular reason to hide. The pair of them wouldn't live long enough now to have any regrets, and the world would go with them.

He drew up outside the apartment block and climbed out of his car, locking it against would-be joyriders. Without a pause he was inside the building, door clinking shut in his wake as he summoned the elevator.

Stepping inside the elevator, he suddenly wondered what the hell he was doing here. What was the point of all this? One thing was certain. He had to keep Fox safe if that was still an option. Fox was the only hope the world had left, even though the trigger had been taken, it might be possible to activate him some other way.

He would play the game out to the bitter end. He knew that he would go down fighting, and that even though he knew it was useless he would not be able to give up his struggle. That was his curse. He knew no other way to be.

Slipping the catch to apartment 42, he entered quietly. All lay in darkness, and it was obvious that nobody was there. To one side of the living room, the fishtank lights cast a gentle glow that was enough to see by, without precisely revealing the clutter and mess in which Fox Mulder habitually existed.

He had no way of knowing where Fox might be. He could only pray that Scully had understood him when he had spoken to her earlier, and would manage to keep him safe.

He checked his watch. It was 2am and he was tired. He wondered whether Fox would be back soon. He wondered if he would ever return. He stepped through into Mulder's bedroom and looked around. It seemed as though Fox had gotten himself a waterbed.

Shrugging his shoulders, he stripped off his clothing, made use of Mulder's bathroom facilities, and slipped into Mulder's bed. He was asleep within a very few seconds.

He came awake with a start, an indeterminate amount of time later, and lay listening, his hand on the gun he had slid beneath the pillow. There had been a sound. He knew that he'd heard one, but he could hear nothing now.

He waited, and as the seconds ticked away, no further sound came to his ears. Slipping out of the bed, he took his gun and drifted soundlessly across the room until he was just inside the door. Once there he paused, ears pricked for the slightest noise. There was nothing to hear.

His mental clock told him that dawn was very close. There was still no Mulder, and he told himself grimly that Mulder was not going to be coming home any time soon, if indeed ever again. He turned, relaxing, and moved towards the chair where he had laid his clothes. As he stooped to retrieve them, he was suddenly aware of movement behind him, and half-turned, bringing up his gun.

It was too late.

Black lightning exploded behind his eyes, and unknowing, he crumpled and fell.

There was light glowing red through his closed eyelids, and he felt sick. He'd been suckered like a fucking novice. Someone had cracked him smartly over the back of the head. He was slipping, really slipping. He wondered who had laid him out flat, and as he began to inventory himself, he realized that he wasn't bound. Furthermore, he was once more lying in Fox's waterbed. His heart thumped painfully as a surge of joy melted down through his insides.

It was Fox. It had to be. He was alive.

Fox was alive and now Alex's job was to keep him that way. Nobody else had any idea how difficult a task that was going to be.

He risked opening his eyes at that point, and cast around for sight of his assailant. He couldn't see the other man, but his own gun lay where he had dropped it, on the floor beside the chair. He sat up, taking in the changes to the room itself. There were clothes on the floor in an untidy heap, and he felt more relieved than he ever had in his life. Once more he climbed out of the bed and padded to the bathroom. The door was partially open and now he could hear the shower running. Without further ado Alex was through the door and into the bathroom. The image of the love of his life seen through frosted glass made his cock twitch, and he slid the door open enough to step inside and join Fox amongst the soapsuds.

Sliding his strong arm around his slippery lover, Alex laid his cheek against the back of Fox's neck and pressed himself up close. Fox paused in his industrious scrubbing to laugh a little, and turned to envelop Alex in a cloud of steam and soapsuds. Mouth sought mouth, and the two of them forgot everything as they rediscovered the taste and feel of each other.

For Alex, that kiss beneath the hot water spraying from Mulder's shower signaled a turning point. His feelings of utter defeat evaporated as he felt the heat and warmth of his lover surround him. They would succeed. The human race would carry on. He couldn't lose what he had only just found. He wouldn't allow his world, his home to be ripped away from him by interlopers, even if they were extra terrestrial in origin. Wherever they hailed from they were still bullies and he wouldn't let them win. There was no way.

As they drew apart from that initial sweet soul kiss, Alex looked ruefully at Fox out of eyes spiked with long, wet lashes.

"You hit me, you son of a bitch. You knocked me out!" Mulder, who had begun to work up a lather over Alex's lean and muscled body, burst out laughing.

"I can't believe you were so careless. I could have been anybody. This place is like Grand Central Station for intruders. If I hadn't recognized you at the last minute and pulled my punch I'd have fractured your skull, you dumb-ass bastard. What the hell were you thinking of?" Mulder grinned widely down at Alex, his face tender. His hands dropped down to rub soap into the base of Alex's spine, massaging down to the buttocks, his hands kneading them gently as he spoke.

Alex almost blushed. He raised his hand to rub the tender spot on the back of his head.

"I'm an idiot. I was so worried about you I forgot every rule I've ever learned. See what you do to me? It's always you. I don't know how you always manage to fuck me up, but you do." Fox's mouth swooped in again to find Alex, and soft lips clung as their passion grew.

"You were worried about me, baby? Why?" Mulder spoke again, and then threw back his head as Alex bent to suck on the neck that presented itself invitingly to his mouth.

There was a pause while mouths worked rough magic, and hands slid to give what pleasure they could, and then Alex, body stiffening under Mulder's knowing touch, gasped out his climax while Mulder chuckled gently. Seconds later, Mulder too exploded in obedience to Alex's fiercely moving hand.

Lips met lips once again as their chests heaved and they leaned against each other. Then, the water in the shower suddenly turned cold.

Bowing to the inevitable, Mulder turned off the water and the two of them emerged form the tub, spluttering and giggling like a pair of children.

Alex turned to face Mulder, and touched the other man's lips.

"Mulder. Fox; please stay away from Diana Fowley. You have no idea how dangerous she is." He spoke quietly, all his attention focused on somehow, anyhow, persuading this obstinate man to take heed of his words. Mulder leaned to cover his mouth with firm lips and the moment was lost as the two of them rediscovered their need for each other.

Still damp, they clung to each other as they found their way back into the bedroom where Alex had been sleeping and sank onto the waterbed.

Alex squirmed around to take Fox's prick in between his lips, and his tongue flicked over the smooth, hard length of the shaft before he settled down to suck on the hot, satiny skin of the tip.

Mulder moaned then, lacing his fingers through Alex's hair and pushing up in an attempt to go deeper and deeper into the heat and moisture of Alex's greedily sucking mouth.

"God, Alex, I love you so much. Oh, Baby, I do."

Alex chuckled around the other man's cock, feeling the swell and throb of it in his mouth. He began to play with Fox's balls, stroking and teasing as he felt the excitement rise in him. His lover groaned again, and Alex leaned over to take him down to the root, relishing the moans and cries Fox was making and determined to make him scream.

All too soon the bubbling of ejaculate along Mulder's twitching penis heralded the burst of sticky fluid as Fox tensed, rigid, and came, gasping into Alex's mouth.

As Mulder panted out his love for Alex, the man himself squirmed to lie along Mulder's body, resting himself on his elbow as he searched Mulder's face.

"I mean it, lover, you have to stay away from Fowley. She's the most dangerous one. I'm watching, but I can't be everywhere. You have to look out for yourself too. Will you promise me?" His voice was harsh as he pleaded. Mulder, still feeling little aftershocks from Alex's thorough blowjob, took a moment or two before he responded.

"There doesn't seem to be much chance of Diana and I getting involved any time soon. Scully and I are being thrown out of the Bureau. That weasel, Spender..." Alex laughed, shortly.

"I think you'll find Spender has had a change of heart. You need to get some sleep, lover, because they are going to want you back tomorrow." Mulder shook his head at Alex then, and took him into strong arms, stopping any further conversation with a series of kisses, each deeper and more voluptuous than the last, until Alex felt as though he were on fire.

Mulder's mouth traveled over Alex's face, nibbling on his lips, his chin, and then his ears, before taking off a pink nipple between his teeth and tugging on it. Alex closed his eyes, savoring the sweet sensations that Mulder soft mouth was arousing in him.

His cock, which had come to attention during his assault on Fox earlier, was now tingling as the moisture pearled at the tip. He clenched anxious buttocks, thrusting up in an attempt to achieve the friction he needed, and was answered when Fox slid his hand down to brush gently over his genitals.

" Harder, do it harder. I need..." Fox laughed again as switched nipples, continuing to lap and suck, while his hand just barely grazed the proud flesh between his legs.

Alex considered punching Fox and then having his way with him while he was still groggy, but as the talented mouth traveled slowly south, tongue swiping down his belly, he felt a rush of tenderness, of anticipation. Fox had arrived at his groin and was now licking along the crease between leg and torso. The hand was still skimming his cock, and he heard himself swearing, muffled obscenities that rose and fell as Fox continued to tease him.

Moving down to spread the quivering Alex's legs wide, Mulder began to lick at the tightly drawn in balls as they slowly wrinkled and rose up towards his body. His teeth nibbled gently at the loose skin as that hand continued on, stroking, stroking, and Alex's uttered profanity switched to Russian, causing Fox to give a small hiccup of laughter as he worked.

Lower still, Fox licked along his perineum with determined passes of his rough tongue while his hand still teased Alex's steadily dripping, pulsing cock. Fox's eyes were fixed on Alex, drinking up the cries and moans of his prey as though they were fine wine. Alex was delirious, his body singing with need as he spread himself wide to the onslaught. Flashes of prickling white pleasure accompanied each separate caress, and as Mulder steadied his hip with one hand, his teasing, delicate stroking continued in a rolling, twisting motion that moved the length of his shaft and over the dripping head before sliding stealthily down to begin again.

His words had died to incoherent mumbling as Fox continued on down to tongue Alex's tightly puckered ass. His tongue was insistent, rhythmic, and Alex felt himself stretch and give as it plunged into him, fucking him with a relentless intensity. The hand on his cock had tightened now, and as it reached the glans each time, that velvet tongue stabbed home, invading his ass, drawing sensation from his body until he thought he would explode.

The soft brush of Fox's hair on his thighs was like the touch of the breeze, and Alex hung in space for a moment that felt like forever as a supernova gathered in his balls, in his ass, ready, so ready to burst free that he sobbed.

When he came, he screamed. He knew that. He knew his voice had been torn from him, howling and honest, in rags of bright sound, a fountain of bright love-words sprayed into the night. His thoughts, such as they were, centered on love. He could live like this, loving, and being loved. It would be enough for him. He lay, finally, limbs loose and trembling, and allowed Fox to lick him clean and then pull him in until he was held close.

Sleep drifted in on Alex, as he lay, for once warm and secure in the arms of his lover.

The morning came all too soon, heralded by the shrilling of the telephone. Alex felt Fox grope, and then climb over him to reach his phone. He sighed as he overheard AD Kersh summoning Mulder to a meeting.

So soon! There's never enough time. and he gritted his teeth against the parting he knew was inevitably approaching.

I'll be so close to you from now on, my Fox, they won't ever get you. You're mine, to comfort or to kill. then he smiled a sleepy hello to Mulder, who was plainly anxious to get going.

"I guess this means I won't be staying for breakfast." Alex volunteered, a nasty grin on his face, before laying a kiss on Fox's scratchy chin and then slipping from the bed.

"They want me there in an hour. God, Alex, I'm so sorry. Will you be here when I get back?" Smiling again, more sweetly this time, Alex shook his head sorrowfully.

"I've got to get going too. Stuff that can't wait. You know how it is?" And Mulder's face fell.

"When will I see you? When, Alex?" Alex could only shake his head.

"I'm not sure. Soon, I promise." And with that Mulder had to be content, for Alex had dressed already, and was leaving even as he spoke.

2.10: The Scorpion Lament

His drive to the FBI building was uneventful. As he slipped into the corridor that led to the series of concealed rooms that overlooked the ADs' offices, he smelled old cigarette smoke and shuddered to himself, wondering if the evil old bastard was alive or dead. He supposed he would find out soon enough.

As the office began to fill, he grinned to himself as he watched his lovers past and present file in. When it came down to it, he was a slut. There they were, lined up behind Kersh's desk. Jeff, the confused, unhappy, bitter youngster sat stiffly, guarded against potential hurt, licking his lips nervously.

Dana, impeccably groomed as usual, showed no sigh of the sexual being he had found her to be. She sat still, posture open and aggressive, her cold gaze raking the other occupants in the room indiscriminately as she awaited the start of the meeting.

As he watched, Fox burst in, dishevelled already in his grey silk, and sat, tapping restlessly against his knee. Alex gazed lovingly at the rangy body that seemed poised to get out of there as soon as he could.

He knew their bodies. He'd loved them all in different ways, and now they were all together, working for the things that he wanted. He felt a flush of pleasure suffuse him as he watched. Now, if only they would do what he needed them to do.

He observed with satisfaction as the little drama played itself out. Jeff was determined, and Alex watched him lay himself bare as he dispossessed himself of the X-Files, abdicating completely. When he stood up to leave the room, he was wrapped in his distress as if it were a threadbare cloak.

A few more minutes, and Alex ghosted from his hideaway, satisfied that the return of the X-Files was a fait accompli. A thought occurred to him, and he made his way down to the office of the X-Files, hoping to catch Jeff there and renew his offer of sanctuary.

As he reached the room that housed whatever of the X-Files had been recovered, he froze. There were voices within. One of them was Jeff, he could tell, and then, with a sinking feeling, he realized that the meeting between Jeff and his father was taking place, here and now. The old bastard had survived the holocaust and was even now taking out is spite on his bewildered, unhappy son.

He fantasized bursting in and affecting some kind of rescue, but even as he steeled himself and gripped the handle of the door to push it further open, there was a shot. He backed away rapidly and rounded the corner into the file stacks, waiting as the Smoker left the room and made his way back along the corridor to the stairwell.

As soon as the old man had left, Alex was in motion, flinging himself into the room. He looked around, seeing the partially filled container into which Jeff had been loading his belongings but not initially spotting Jeff himself. As he moved forward, he felt the cold snaking of horror slither the length of his spine, and he realized that the young man had fallen behind the desk. With a moan he raced forward to where Jeffrey Spender lay.

Spender was unconscious, unmoving, and his face was white as a ghost as he lay in his own blood. There was a wound in Jeff's chest from which bright blood bubbled, and Alex knew he had little time. He removed his own T-shirt, wadding it tight and laying it over the place where the red foam was welling up, applying pressure as best he could.

Jeff moaned, rolling his head, and Alex ripped off his belt, attempting to use it to lash the impromptu dressing in place.

"I'm here, Jeff. I'm sorry. I didn't make it in time, but I'm here now, and I'll get you out of here, I promise." There was a faint whisper from Jeff, and then he lost consciousness once again. Distraught, Alex cast around for some way of moving him, and finally he threw stacks of books onto the floor, kicking the side of a bookshelf off in order to appropriate the long, smooth sidepiece.

Jeff's tie and belt were removed carefully and pressed into service as he maneuvered Jeff onto the makeshift stretcher and lashed him to it as well as he could. Grabbing the phone, he summoned a colleague from his office elsewhere in the building, and between the two of them, they carefully transported Jeff out of the X-Files and away from the Hoover Building.

Much later, with the sky already darkening as the end of the day approached, Alex found himself sitting at the young agent's bedside, holding his hand, and waiting. Surgery had made a slight difference to Spender's appearance, and now at least he was breathing properly. He looked at Jeff's chalky face and knew that he couldn't just leave him. If his father found out where Jeff was and that he still lived, there would be no way to protect him while he was here in the hospital. He was damned if he was going to let that smoking bastard snuff this boy's life out casually.

Jeff Spender would live. He was going to do his damnedest to make sure of that. Reaching for his phone, he checked his watch. There would be no time to visit Fox tonight. If he left Jeff now, he knew the young agent would not stand a chance. Sighing, he picked up the phone, dialing swiftly and waiting for the voice he longed to hear.

"Mulder." Alex's chest thumped painfully as his lover's voice broke the silence of the room.

"Fox, it's Alex." His soft rasp seemed to carry shadows along with the words he spoke.

"Alex! I've got the X-Files back! I've got it all. Listen, I'm not going to be able to get home tonight. I'm packing to go out of town right now." Alex closed his eyes. He knew that this was the way things had to be, but he was nervous. He couldn't leave Jeff, at least until tomorrow, but he needed to make sure Fox was going to be ok. Damn, he needed clones. Knowing that this was the only way didn't make him feel any better. He sighed, a tender, curious little smile on his face. Fox was as he was, and his focus was part of him.

"Just be careful, love. It's not all over yet by any means. Stay away from Diana, please."

There was a few minutes silence and then Fox's voice again, and now it was filled with suspicion. "Alex? What do you know? Tell me now!"

His heart sank "I can't yet, Fox. Soon, I promise it will be soon." And the click on the line sounded very final this time as Alex sat, phone to his ear, wishing things could be different.

4am, there was something about 4am that disturbed Alex. That was the time of the morning when his body became clammy with night sweat. That was the dark time just before the dawn when souls departed their bodies. He felt at his lowest ebb this night, as the machinery that assisted Jeff's breathing hissed and chugged, and the display of monitors bleeped and stuttered. Jeff had not moved, and though from time to time a nurse had come by to make notes on his chart, there seemed to be little change.

Alex had left Jeff's bedside for a minute while he went in search of the bathroom and had now paused for a few desultory words with the nurse at the central nursing station a few yards from where young Spender lay.

The middle-aged lady in the nurse's whites had been describing the doctor who would be seeing Jeff in the morning. She took a long, searching look at Alex and suggested that he get some sleep.

"You can't make any difference to him now, and you'll want to be there for him when he wakes up, won't you?" Alex gave her a distracted smile as he spotted a suggestion of movement in the dimly lit doorway to Jeff's room. With a muffled curse he flung himself towards the door, gun out and cocked, ready. Crashing through the door, he saw that he had surprised a white-coated man in the act of readying a hypodermic. He was almost ready to accept the man's presence, until a flash of something sinister, quickly veiled, had shown in the man's eyes, and he felt uneasy.

"Back away now, or you're a dead man!" The other man raised his hands and smiled in a manner that was meant to reassure but merely succeeded in causing Alex to panic. The nurse had come running at the sound of Alex shouting, and the look of amazement on her face confirmed to Alex that the man was an intruder and up to no good.

He held his gun on the man at Jeff's bedside, his eyes flicking from the bed to the hand holding the syringe. The man continued to appear relaxed, the needle held loosely in one hand.

"What are you doing? Who are you?" The nurse had gotten over her astonishment and was now apparently approaching indignation. She took a step towards the false medic, and Alex yelled to her to stay back, keep away, for God's sake.

It was all in vain. The man was as quick as a snake, grabbing her by the hair and swinging her across him until she lay against him as he pressed the needle against the pulsing vein in her neck.

"Put your gun down or she dies, right here and now." The words were snarled, and Alex, tired, angry, and wishing that for once people would just not fuck with him while he was sleep deprived, fired a single bullet into the man's head. The syringe dropped to smash on the floor, as a spreading pool of amber liquid studded with glass slivers slowly spread over the linoleum floor. He saw the nurse turn white and, in a frozen instant, realize what was happening to her, and then the would-be assassin folded neatly and slumped to the floor. He half expected the nurse to scream, but in the event, she did not. Instead, she checked Jeff, and apparently satisfied with his condition she collected rubber gloves, swabs and a specimen bottle and began to gather a sample of the substance that had been intended for Jeff.

She was still very pale, and Alex looked on in admiration as she carefully stepped over the corpse that lay on the floor.

"Are you married? I think I'm in love!" Alex's smoky voice stopped her in her tracks, and she turned to him with the ghost of a smile on her plain, middle-aged features.

"You couldn't keep up with me, young man! I'd have you in the next bed to your friend, suffering from severe dehydration if you tried. I just figure that it might be a good thing to find out just what's in here." She carefully squeezed the swab into the small plastic container and moved to place it on the table next to the bed.

Alex nodded.

"Nurse, darling, I know he's seriously ill, but his life isn't worth a plugged nickel while he's in here. I won't be able to stay awake 24 hours a day, until he's well enough to be moved, and they will keep on trying until they get him." He stroked the dark hair of the unconscious man. "I have to get him to a place of safety. Help me? Help me save his life?" She stood for a moment, a dumpy figure in crisp white jacket and pants. He could see the thoughts chase each other across her face until finally she nodded.

"I know how it could be done." She thought for a minute, and then moved to the bed, beginning to adjust the tubes and wires that festooned the motionless body.

"He needs the IV at present. He's not only getting fluids from it, he's getting antibiotics. He also needs the oxygen. All the rest of it is just for show, really." So saying, she released the brakes on the bed's castors, and gesturing for Alex to manage both IV stand and oxygen bottle, she began to move the bed out of the ward.

"We'll put him where we're taking him for the rest of the night, and then I'll go back to the ward and call the police. I can't let you take him out of the hospital itself until a doctor has checked him out. He's seriously ill, you must know that." Alex nodded.

"I know a doctor that will help him." He sounded grim.

The bed fit into the elevator, and the two of them squeezed in beside it. Jeff remained motionless, his face white and pinched, his lips pale and his eyes looking like bruises. Alex wondered if he would ever be truly recovered. It was better not to dwell on that.

As the elevator reached the fourth floor, they manhandled the unwieldy bed out of the cramped space, then, at the nurse's bidding, they pushed the bed down a corridor from which the sounds of crying emanated. Alex's brow furrowed in confusion as he listened.

"What? Where the hell are we taking him?" The nurse grinned over her shoulder at Alex as they made their way along to the farthest reaches of the corridor.

"I thought you'd never ask! It's the maternity ward. It occurred to me that it's possibly the last place that anyone would look for him. We can certainly hide him here 'til morning." The grin on her face lit up her ordinary features, making her appear, just for that moment, almost beautiful.

Alex gave a brief snort of laughter as the humor of the situation sank in. The nurse had flung open one of the doors, and together they maneuvered Jeff's bed inside, taking out the empty bed that had been there and pushing it back out of the door.

There was no time to speak for the next few minutes as the nurse bustled about getting things organized. Finally satisfied, she stepped back and drew the curtain across the glass panel in the door, concealing the occupants of the room from anyone who might pass. She followed the action up by rolling a folding screen out around the end of the bed.

"There. He's as safe as he can be for now. I have to go back and raise the alarm. There's a dead man on my floor, remember? I'll come back down after the shift change at 7:30. Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Alex smiled at her as she indicated the empty second bed on the other side of the room. He quickly wrote down the number of his cell phone and gave it to her, then, on impulse, he put his hand to her cheek and dropped a quick kiss onto her surprised mouth.

"Thank you. You're wonderful. If there's any trouble, any at all, call me, and I'll come running." She smiled back and patted his arm.

"It will be okay. You'll see. Get some sleep, or I'll spank you." And then, she was gone, leaving Alex to his own thoughts as she trundled the empty bed away from the room where Jeff lay.

He checked his watch. It was 5:45 am and he couldn't wait any longer. Pulling out his phone again, he sat down on the chair beside Jeff's bed and dialled Scully's number.

"Dana?" He could hear her sleepy response. Damn! She'd be mad at him. "Dana, honey, wake up. It's Alex. I need you."

There was a pause during which he held his breath.

"What do you want Alex? It's nighttime. Don't you ever sleep?" Her voice was growing stronger, clearer, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dana, listen. I can't tell you over the phone, but I need your help. I desperately need your help. Please come." She grumbled a little at this, but he could tell that she would help him. "I need you to come to the Memorial Hospital. Call me as soon as you arrive, and I'll come and find you." He was back to praying once again. Where else would he find someone he could trust if she turned him down? "Dana, please say you'll come?"

There was a very long pause.

"Dana?" He was worried now. He would not be able to stay awake for much longer, and once he was asleep anyone could harm Jeff.

Scully sighed, audibly. "Krycek, if this is any kind of a false alarm, I will shoot you."

"Does that mean you'll come?" There was relief apparent in his voice. She was coming. He would soon be able to rest, knowing he'd succeeded.

"Give me 15 minutes, Alex, and wait out front for me. Oh, and Alex?" The last was spoken with a smile. He could hear it in her voice.

"What, Dana?" He was grinning, light headed with relief.

"This had better be good." There was a click as she hung up.

Eleven minutes after he had replaced the phone in his pocket, it rang again. Spender still lay unmoving, unchanged, and Alex swiftly grabbed the instrument from his jacket.

"Hello?" Dana's welcome voice slid over his waiting ears. He exhaled, relief throbbing in the air around him.

"Where are you, Dana?"

"Just approaching the front of the hospital. Where d'you want me?" He grinned. He'd tease her about that one later. Right now he was swiftly making his way back out of the ward and along the corridor down to the entrance, hoping that they'd be safe, that nobody had monitored the call.

She was standing in the foyer of the darkened hospital, a slim figure in blue jeans and a sweater with a skier on it. He peered cautiously around the corner to check for lurking hitmen, and whispered her name sharply. Turning, she made for him with a minimum of fuss.

He wasted no time greeting her, merely seizing her hand and racing back to the elevator, pulling her behind him. She followed, mercifully asking no questions, and he flashed her a grateful smile over his shoulder.

"Thanks for coming, love." She gave him a dark look.

"You'd better hurry up and convince me that this is an emergency." He grinned, shook his head at her, and as the elevator doors closed, he tweaked her nose, affectionately. The doors opened on the fourth floor, and he grabbed her by the hand again, hurrying off towards the room where Jeffrey lay.

Gun in hand he pushed the door open cautiously, fingers crossed that the room had not been discovered during his brief absence.

All was still, and as he rounded the screen that concealed Jeff's bed, he relaxed, slipping his gun back into the waistband of his jeans as he beckoned for Scully to come in.

As her gaze fell on the stricken Spender, she turned pale.

"Alex? What...?" Her voice trailed away, and she raised her horrified eyes to his.

"Don't look at me. I didn't do it. I'm trying to save the poor fuck's life. There's already been one attempt on it since he got here, and I've hidden him here temporarily. He can't stay here. I need your help. They said he was stable after surgery but obviously he's pretty sick. Is it safe to move him? Where can I take him?" Alex had begun his speech quietly, but his voice was rising as he spoke, distress evident in his every gesture. Scully put a hand on his arm.

"It's okay, Alex. Don't worry. I'll help you. Let me go and check him out first of all." He slumped onto the spare bed as Scully began to examine the comatose Spender.

"I was starting to worry that I would fall asleep and they'd get him while I was unconscious. Dana, you've got to help me keep him alive. Old man Spender tried to kill him."

Dana looked up sharply at that. "Tried to kill him? But he's..."

"His son. Yes, I know. You can't believe just how evil that old bastard is. There's nothing he won't stoop to, nothing at all." Alex was silent once more as Scully continued to do things to the man in the bed.

"His pulse is good and strong. His heart is fine. He definitely needs medical care right now though." She paused for a moment., deep in thought, and then her face brightened.

"Sleep for a while, Alex. I'll stay and keep watch. You'll both be safe enough." Alex flashed her a relieved smile and lay back. Within seconds, he was asleep. The last thing he heard was Scully on the phone, setting things up for Jeffrey's rescue.

He was shaken awake some time later by Dana, who handed him a coffee as he rubbed at his gummy eyes.

"We're all ready to move him. Do you want to come along? Wordlessly, he nodded, running his hand through sweat-spiked hair and giving a bone-cracking yawn. Glancing over at the bed, he saw that Jeff had awoken. Although his face was still pinched and white with pain, his eyes were alert, and he smiled at Alex.

"You saved me again. This is becoming a habit. Thanks, Alex." The thread of a voice fell on Alex's ears, soft and welcome as spring rain. Impulsively Alex bent to kiss the sick man's forehead.

"I'm sorry I wasn't in time to stop it from happening. I couldn't just let you die, it would please the old bastard too much. You've gotta live to spite him, Jeff." That brought a low, gasping laugh from Spender and an admonishment from Scully.

Checking his watch, he noticed that the time was now 10:45. A thought occurred to him.

"My nurse. The one who brought us here. She was going to come back once her shift changed. Did she come? Where is she?" Scully viewed him, her perplexed gaze telling its own tale.

"Stay here for a couple of minutes. Don't leave without me." She nodded and he began the trek back to the ICU, where he hoped there would be no problems. He approached the central nursing station and asked the lone man in nursing whites where he could find Nurse Patterson. The man looked at him blankly, before consulting the duty roster.

"She's the night nurse, my man. If she has any sense at all, she'll be at home in her bed right now."

"Have you been on since 7:30?" Alex could feel a presentiment of disaster raising the hairs at the back of his neck. Chill fingers ran the length of his spine. As the nurse nodded yes, he persisted. "Were there any unusual things this morning? Did she seem okay?"

"You act as though you think something happened to her. She was perfectly fine. She went home, I think." The man sounded uneasy. "Are you saying she's not okay?"

Alex couldn't think of an answer. He had been sure there would be cops all over the place. He'd left a dead man in here, lying in a pool of his own blood, and kidnapped a seriously ill patient. The place should be buzzing with boys in blue. That was weird. Sighing, he made his way back down to the maternity unit.

Entering the room once more, he found that the Lone Gunmen had joined Scully. Scully was hooking up a drip to the stretcher they had brought in, and the four of them were busy, tightening and tweaking at incomprehensible machinery that surrounded Spender, who was now sleeping once again. As he looked on, they deftly transferred Jeff to the stretcher, and Scully motioned for Alex to go first.

"Head for the front doors. We've got an ambulance waiting." Together, the five of them moved Jeff Spender, pawn, out of the danger zone and off the board to the safety of the Gunmen's home.

Alex busied himself over the weeks that followed. He stayed close to Fox, as close as he could. He'd seen Jeff brought down, and he was anxious to stop the same thing from happening to Mulder.

He knew now that not only had Jeff's father survived the Consortium holocaust, so had Diana Fowley. He knew that Fox was in terrible danger, by the very nature of what he was. He also knew that he could do nothing at present except watch over him.

Fox took up most of his time now. Nights were spent in his arms whenever it was possible, and days, particularly days when Fox was in the Hoover Building, were spent observing, shadowing, poised and ready to intervene if anyone tried to harm him.

Twice, he killed.

Fox came and went, unknowing, immersing himself with glee in his precious X-Files.

Jeff was well on the road to recovery now, and though he never would be as fit as before, he'd impressed Alex greatly in his struggle to regain his health. Time and again Alex had attempted to persuade Jeff to go away and start a new life, but the grim young man had refused. Alex could do nothing except wait, knowing that something was building.

When it finally occurred, he almost missed it. Fox had been happily pursuing phenomena unrelated to the alien invasion, and Alex had grown a little lax, not really expecting trouble.

Mulder had been out of town, and when he had returned, he'd brought with him an alien artefact. When Alex had seen it, he had become very excited. It was something he had believed lost forever.

Fox had kept it a secret, even from Alex, and it had come as a surprise to him when he had produced the thing in AD Skinner's office. He was still reeling from the blow of this realization when he saw Fox begin to show signs of a serious headache.

It could mean only one thing. Someone had activated that dormant gene that lay within his Fox, and now the change was beginning. It was too late to go back., Too late to stop it. His love was going to have to suffer the change without the close supervision he needed, and he was going to suffer.

From his vantagepoint, he watched the exchange between AD Skinner and the two agents of the X-Files. He prayed that the transition would be gentle for Fox. He knew that without the correct supervision, it would potentially be lethal. And that even if he were to live, it could possibly induce an incurable psychosis in him.

His blood ran cold. He could hear Mulder ranting about another person working the case. As the man berated Skinner, who could do nothing except stare, open-mouthed, Alex came to the conclusion that something very strange indeed was happening to Fox.

He wondered what could be done. Fox was so fragile at present, Alex was not sure if he would be able to take him away from the pain. Even as he thought this, he knew that Fox would never consent to go with him.

He shivered, drinking Fox in with his eyes, helpless to do anything except wait and watch. One thing was certain, he would need to find out how Fox had been infected, and by whom. He knew that it must have occurred very recently and that it indicated that there were still members of the consortium around.

He knew that Spender Senior wouldn't have been able to get close enough to Fox. The only other member of the syndicate he could picture right now was Diana Fowley.

It must have been Fowley. Despite his warnings, despite his begging and pleading, he must have let her in close. Now it appeared that Fox had somehow begun to sense the thoughts and feelings of those around him. It was no longer safe for Alex to be close to him, at least not until the change was complete. If Fox sensed the truth before his defences were in place, he would probably give up on the spot. After that, his death would be only a matter of time.

Alex couldn't bear the thought of that. He'd stay away from his lover if he could, as long as he could ensure that Mulder made the change successfully. Once that had happened, there would be no stopping them.

As the two agents left Skinner's office, Alex emerged from behind the panel through which he had been observing and held out his hand for the video on which the scene had been recorded. He had to study it and see if he could tell just how far along Fox was, but even more importantly, he needed to follow Fox and make sure he came to no further harm. He had to be there, close to Fox, just in case.

Just in case of what, he didn't know, but unknowing, he took the tape, dropping it into his pocket, ignoring Skinner's baleful glare. Then he hurried out of the office after Fox, a slim figure in black, seemingly at home in the lengthening shadows.

On reaching his car he found that some asshole had double-parked alongside it, effectively blocking him in, and Alex, fuming impotently, was forced to stand and watch as Scully and Mulder emerged from the underground parking facility and drove off towards the west.

He cursed his luck, wishing that he had thought to put a tag on Scully's car as well as the one on Mulder's. He chafed at the bit, waiting for the street to empty out a little so that he could pick the lock on the offending vehicle and get it out of his way. He'd have to hot-wire the damned thing, and he reflected that there had been a time when he could just have shoved it out of the way. Now, his one-armed state meant that pushing and steering at the same time were virtually impossible.

It was his missing limb that saved his life. He'd hesitated for just a minute or two, wondering if he could actually work out a way of pushing the stupid vehicle out of the way. Finally deciding that it was not going to work, he moved around to open his trunk in order to find the tools necessary for entering the car that was inconveniencing him so.. Taking a roll of tools from the trunk, he turned and, fumbling, dropped his keys into the road. He was in the act of stopping to retrieve the things when the earth surged beneath his feet, pitching him to his knees.

He crouched for a moment or two as debris rained around him. Fuck it all! What had happened? His car was probably a write off, and he could not waste time with the police. He needed to get out of here as fast as he possibly could.

Grabbing his roll of tools, he scrambled to his feet and took off.

He ran for several blocks, and when he finally slowed down to a brisk walk, he reflected that the powers that be would be calling on him just as soon as they identified the owner of the black BMW. He was determined not to be in the vicinity of the explosion when that happened.

Fuck again! Who the hell had tried to kill him?

He flagged down a passing cab and directed it back to his house. Once home, he changed his clothes quickly, watching Skinner's tape as he did so. He knew where Mulder must have gone now. Popping out the tape, he dropped it back into his pocket and made for the garage. He discarded the old man's limo as too big and flashy for his purposes, finally settling in behind the wheel of a sporty, hunter-green Jaguar and gunning the engine.

The university was complex. Alex parked as close as he could to the building that housed the Department of Genetics, and entered through a side door. Disdaining the elevators, he started up the stairs, paying scant heed to the sounds that were emanating from above. As he progressed up the stairs, he could see that there was a man lying on them in some distress, and as he drew closer, he discovered with a thrill of despair that it was Fox.

Jesus! It's advancing so fast. I don't know what to do for him.

He had to help him. He had to, but the only way was to keep on going, find Dr. Barnes and discover what had been done to him. He would catch Barnes now, quickly, and wring him dry of information, then return for Fox and take him home to safety. Fox was perfectly safe for the moment; he wasn't going anywhere like that.

Stepping over Fox's moaning body, he continued on up the stairs and out onto the roof.

Barnes was there as Alex had suspected he might be. Alex approached him swiftly, a predator, stalking his quarry. Dr. Barnes, uncertain, cast about himself for some way of escaping this malevolent presence, but it seemed that he was trapped.

He looked wide-eyed at this being who stood over him in a manner that made him think of sharp teeth and ravening jaws.

"Dr. Barnes?" The husky voice was soft and menacing, and it brought the doctor's head upright as Alex held up the videocassette. Barnes nodded, swallowing nervously with a mouth that suddenly seemed to be devoid of saliva. "You and I are destined to be great friends." His smile became positively angelic as Alex stepped into the other man's personal space.

"W...what do you want? I've done nothing wrong." He was up against the parapet now, a cold sweat making his face gleam as Alex leaned over him.

"I want to know what you've done to Fox Mulder."

Alex reached out with one black-gloved hand and almost tenderly encircled Dr. Barnes's neck. His smile spread, seraphic and alluring, and Dr. Barnes suddenly understood the concept of mortality.

Alex began to squeeze. He applied the pressure slowly at first, and as he did so, his velvet voice told away the seconds remaining of Dr. Barnes's life.

"Fox Mulder has been infected with something, and you are the one who accomplished that." He squeezed, punctuating his words as the smaller man gagged. "I want to know the hows and whys of your little effort.

"I want to know where the facility is that you planned on taking him to when he went critical, and I want to know who has the program for helping him make the transition." He squeezed again, and Barnes began to turn an alarmingly high color as Alex choked him relentlessly. "I know you can tell me if you really try."

Alex's hand had closed on the man's throat and Barnes's eyes bulged with horror as he felt his own pulse under Alex's tightening fingers. He let out a croak as Alex continued in conversational tones.

"You know, they say that one loses consciousness easily if one has the blood supply to the brain interrupted like so." He suited his actions to the words, pinching hard on the pulse until he saw the other man's eyes begin to roll up, then releasing him for a seconds or two before beginning again. "However, I'm not going to let you off that easily. I'm going to crush your larynx. Now that's a pain you just can't imagine. You won't just fade to grey, Dr. Barnes, you'll choke on your own blood and drown."

Alex applied more pressure to the now gobbling Dr. Barnes, and his face suddenly lit up as though he had had a brilliant idea. "Unless, of course, I can successfully perform an emergency tracheotomy on you. I've always wanted to try that." His hand found its position and pinched in over the now terrified man's larynx, and Barnes finally broke.

"I'll tell! I'll tell! Stop it and I'll tell you." The voice was a high pitched squeak, and Alex released his grip on the throat in favor of stroking his victim's now grey cheek.

"Good, very good. Look on this as a reprieve, for now. Tell me what I need to know, and we'll discuss your continuing good health." Barnes slid down the guard-rail to slump at Alex's feet, and Alex stood, waiting patiently while the pathetic heap on the floor before him managed to get himself together. Then he reached down and took hold of the man's collar, hauling the sorry looking scientist to his feet.

"Step into my consulting room, Dr. Barnes. I think you might want to unburden your conscience. My door never closes." And with that remark Alex began to tow the quaking man back into the building, disregarding the monkeys that screeched and leaped in their cages as they entered.

Once he had entered, he found a seat for Barnes and stood beside him, one leather-clad hand absently caressing the nape of the trembling man's neck.

You were going to tell me what you've done to Mulder," he prompted, and his teeth gleamed white in what Dr. Barnes might easily have mistaken for a smile.

"He was infected. There were originally three specially bred hybrids who were constructed to take the virus and adapt it once they had reached adulthood. Once the change was complete in them, they would have the necessary tools to cleanse the earth of the alien invaders. Mulder is the only one of the three that is left now, and it was decided to activate him." Alex rocked back on his heels. He knew the truth about Fox, but...

"Who are the other two hybrids?" He was fascinated, but at the same time troubled. Fox was not the only one, but the cushion provided by the other two might mean that they would not try as hard to save him in a pinch. He shook the doctor, hard. "Tell me. I'm losing patience." The doctor shuddered.

"Alex Krycek is the name I was given, although there are orders out to terminate him, so he may very well be dead by now. The other is called Spender, Jeffrey Spender, and I know that he's dead. His father told me." Alex nodded, ruffling Barnes's hair in a dreadful imitation of affection.

"Go on, you're doing really well. Don't stop there. Where is the virus you've introduced into Mulder? " Barnes indicated the refrigerator in the corner of the room.

"It's all in there. Even the ones for Krycek and Spender, though they won't ever be used now. The shot for Mulder's second stage treatment is the blue one. He needs to get that one within the next few hours. It's no use though. Sandoz took off with the equipment they need for his final metamorphosis. Mulder is going to die, because we can't complete the cycle, and then the human race might as well give up." Alex's ears went back at that, and he felt a flash of panic slice through to his groin.

"Tell me all about this third stage. What's needed?" Dr. Barnes raised wild eyes to meet his.

"There was a fragment from the alien artifact. It emitted the radiation that's required to modify the virus that's in Mulder. It's not my department. There were others working on that aspect of the treatment. All I was involved in was the administration of the virus." Alex cut him off then, moving to the fridge to secure the phials of virus. He readily found the two that were labeled with Jeff's name, and then those that were for him. After a moment's fumbling he revealed the solitary tube with Fox's name on it. Gathering them up, he wrapped them carefully, snagged a couple of syringes from the tray beside the fridge, and left the room, deserting the terrified Barnes and made his way back down to where he knew Fox would be lying.

Only when he reached the place, Fox was no longer there.

The drive back to Fox's apartment seemed like an eternity. Alex jittered as he sped through city streets that glistened in the aftermath of a light rain. He cursed himself for not having taken Fox to safety first, and prayed that the stricken man had managed to make his way safely home.

He pulled up outside Fox's apartment building and quickly made his way up the stairs to the door, pulling out the keys Fox had given him as he approached. Ever cautious, he paused at the door to listen and stiffened up as he heard voices within, then he quietly unlocked the door and entered the suite as silently as a shadow. Moving on cat feet down the short passageway, he began to discern a woman's voice. Listening, he recognized the unmistakable tones of Diana Fowley.

He drew his gun. This would be a pleasure.

When he rounded the corner into the living room, the woman had just hung up the telephone and was in the act of undressing. Alex waited until she was clad only in her bra and panties and then ambled forward, his gun held loosely but firmly in his hand. She was watching Fox with a peculiar expression on her face and didn't quite realize his presence until he was very close to her. She was studying Fox with an look that was part satisfaction and part amusement, and as his shadow fell over the bed, she jumped and turned, exclaiming angrily as she saw who Mulder's unwelcome guest was.

For a frozen moment neither of them spoke, then Alex found his voice.

"Get out." His eyes raked up and down her scantily clad body, and a sneer spread over his face. She stepped backwards, flustered.

"There's nothing we can do for him, Alex. You might as well just leave him to me." Diana raised her chin, and Alex lifted his gun with a smirk.

"He doesn't want anything you could possibly give him. Now get out, or I'll blow your supremely ugly head off." And he thumbed the safety catch off his weapon, bringing it to bear on her left eye.

She backed slowly away to where her clothing lay in a neatly folded pile and picked up her skirt. Alex moved again, cobra fast, and the gun was suddenly cold against the base of her spine.

"Take your clothes and go. Now." She turned pale at that.

"But I'm not... " She indicated her clothing vaguely, and he jabbed her hard with the barrel of the gun.

"Don't test me, Diana. Don't try my patience, I have none. Just get out." Something in Alex's face must have convinced her. She swiftly gathered up her belongings and made for the door.

Alex watched her as she stood in the hallway and rapidly made herself decent. He only closed the door to the apartment when he had seen her step into the elevator.

He locked the door and hurried back to the bedroom, to where his stricken Fox was lying, ghost like now and still, his breathing shallow as he labored to throw off the virus that had invaded his system. He took the hypodermic and the phial with Mulder's name written on it, and began to load it, praying that he was doing this right, terrified that he was not.

Fox lay, sweat sheened and pale in his bed, his bruised eyes closed and pain written on his face, set in the lines around his mouth. As Alex moved towards him, Mulder's sudden scream took him by surprise.

"Help me, Alex. You know you can. I can hear you."

"I'm here, darling. I'll try." He could hardly breathe. His hand shook and he knelt beside Fox on the bed, trying to get himself together enough to apply the needle.

He had no idea how this stuff was to be administered. He could just as easily kill Fox as help him. There was no other choice; he had to do something, and the doctor had been very specific that something must be done tonight if Fox were to survive.

Alex thrust the needle into the skin of Fox's arm and injected the serum as the tears rolled down his face to splash onto his lover's skin. Then, stripping off his clothes, he climbed into bed beside him and held him close as he waited to see whether or not he had made the right decision.

Fox seemed to doze for the next while, and Alex lay beside him, stroking and petting the soft, thick hair and clammy skin, murmuring to him about the things he had found out about the process he was going through. He was not sure if Mulder could hear him or not, but he could not give up now.

He finally knew that Fox was feeling better when he suddenly opened dazed looking grey eyes and smiled, a sad, strained little smile.

Alex was holding him tightly, and his heart skipped, thudded and skipped again as he gazed down at his lover.

This man had somehow become his life, and he had no idea how it had happened. His mind traveled back to a time long since gone when he and this man in his arms had hated each other. He could see himself as he had been, chained to a cast iron pipe in a third rate Frankfurt hotel, exhausted, shocked, bloodied and broken after Fox had raped him.

Somehow the feelings he was experiencing now had grown out of that horrific start to their relationship. He frowned, not understanding, and then Fox reached up to encircle him with his arms and pulled Alex down to meet his lips in a sweet, sticky kiss.

He didn't think any more after that.

Their mouths slid over each other to lock in place, and Fox sucked Alex's tongue into his mouth, teasing and caressing it with his own. One arm was around Alex's neck, while his other hand had sneaked down and was now cupping his ass, pulling him in tight until their bodies lay pressed together along their entire length.

Alex wriggled, feeling his cock slither against Fox's belly, and the answering twitch of increasing hardness as Fox deepened the kiss, rolling over to lie on top of him, pinning him, breathless and moaning, under him.

Closing his eyes, Alex drank in the taste of Fox's mouth and the sweet scent of his arousal. It came home to him with a chill that this might be the very last time he and Fox would ever make love. If he could not locate Dr. Sandoz and the alien artefact he'd absconded with, his beautiful Fox was doomed. He thrust his body hard against Mulder, feeling the other man catch fire in response.

Mouths greedy on each other, hands clutching, the two men continued to devour each other, desperation driving them to even greater heights as they touched and stroked each other.

Alex could feel Fox's breath against his cheek and offered up his thanks that he was still aware, still breathing, then Fox began a steady, rolling motion with his hips, and Alex groaned into the mouth that covered his. Pulling away for a second, Fox lifted his head to gaze down at his lover.

"Thank you, love, thank you." And Alex's eyes flew open as he tried to process what Mulder was saying.

"Thank me for what, baby? I've been in bed with you before." Slow and husky, his voice made Fox smile, and he dipped his head to place small kisses along Alex's jawline and down to his throat where he set to work sucking a necklace of small bruises into being.

"Thank you for helping me, for getting that stuff that I needed. I could see in your thoughts how much you wanted to make me well. Even if you can't get the last part, I know you tried, baby."

It took a minute for Fox's words to sneak through the haze of arousal that was building in Alex. Then, all of a sudden, even as Fox bent to lick around his nipples, it dawned on Alex just exactly what Fox had said, and he froze, forcing Fox's face up to look at him.

"How...?" Fox smiled down at him, kissing the end of his nose.

"How did I know about the serum? To tell the truth, I'm not really sure. It's just that from time to time I seem to be able to hear the thoughts of those around me, even when I don't want to. In fact my main problem seems to be that I can't shut things out when I need to, and it's killing me. I could hear when you were arguing with Diana. I could hear your thoughts and hers too. I love you, Alex." And he resumed his tender onslaught on Alex's chest, nipping and sucking at each rosy nipple in turn while his hands kneaded and teased at firm flesh.

Alex moaned again, and stroked the back of Mulder's neck as he gave himself up to the things his lover was doing to him. It was no use trying to figure things out right now. This was Fox, his Fox, and they were making love for one last time. Surely the world would wait for them.

Fox moved back up to cover Alex's mouth with his once more, as his hand stole down to find and seize Alex's hard flesh.

Knowing fingers closed around Alex's cock and began to stroke him insistently. Alex gave himself up to the feelings his lover was stirring in him, responding to the clever hands and voluptuous lips with his own urgent touches, feeling all the time as though this would be the last time he and Fox would ever be together.

Fox was still kissing him, tongue snaking and darting to explore the inside of his mouth as his hand slid back and forth over his cock. Alex felt the approach of his orgasm like a wave of tingling warmth that built in the base of his spine, waiting to burst free and flood him with pleasure. Panting, he pushed himself up into Fox's hand.

Fox suddenly stopped his movement, holding Alex still, and Alex cried out for the lack of the delicious friction that had been driving him wild. Fox ran a considering tongue tip over Alex's lips and smiled down at the desperate, wild eyed man as he attempted vainly to recapture the motion of just few minutes ago.

"Alex, baby, please. I want you. I want to fuck you right now." Alex swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry with need, and lowered improbably long eyelashes submissively.

"Anything, Fox. You can do anything. Just hurry, please, before I explode." Mulder kissed him again, a rough, hard kiss that bruised his lips, and Alex could feel him trembling. Then Fox pulled away as he groped through the items in the drawer of his nightstand, quickly finding the bottle of Astroglyde and pouring it into his hand.

Alex, made shameless by desire, spread his legs wide, arching into Mulder's touch, and Mulder began to stroke the crease of his ass. To start with, his fingers went to the soft, delicate skin behind his balls, tracing sensations as soft and fluttery as butterfly wings as he massaged Alex's sweet spot.

Alex was moaning again, writhing up into Mulder's touch as he invited more and more intimacy. His lover circled one long forefinger around and around the bud of his anus, finally slipping it in past the muscle as Alex twisted and rocked.

He felt Fox begin to slide in and out, stretching him as he filled him, and heard his own voice whimpering out his need for more, more with a detached curiosity. That wave was back to lurk behind his balls, and he could feel it building as Fox fingerfucked him.

Fox drew away from his onslaught on Alex's lips to smile a predatory way at his moaning, desperate lover, relishing his evident arousal as he fingered him slowly and steadily. He could see the tendons of Alex's neck standing out like cords as he rolled his head from side to side. Mulder stooped to nip at the long, smooth throat, and then, as Alex found his voice, he smiled again.

"Come on, Fox, I'm ready, please. Give it to me." And his voice was crushed velvet, abrading Fox's senses as it brushed his skin.

"Hold on, love, I'll take good care of you, just have a little patience." Mulder pulled away, snickering at the whimpered protests from his lover, and then laughing out loud as Alex began to swear at him. He knelt up and pulled Alex onto his thighs, slicking up his cock and positioning it ready. Then he pressed home slowly and relentlessly into the heat of Alex's body.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, Fox, please... " Alex was filled, stretched to the tearing point, burning ache fading to sweet intensity as Mulder pushed home, drew back and thrust in again.

"I'll take care of you, love." Fox leaned forward and his mouth covered Alex's once again as he held him tightly, his hips undulating as he fucked.

Electric tingles were building in Alex now. He pressed his hand down between their two bodies to take hold of his cock and work it in time with the action of Mulder's pumping hips until Fox reared up again, placing his hands over Alex's.

"Oh, God, yeah! Please, Fox, you do it for me, lover." And Fox took hold of the purple, slippery cock, beginning to jack it until Alex gasped, his orgasm slamming though him like a tsunami, bursting over his limbs like foaming water as his cock spat sticky white gobs of semen. Seconds later, he felt the stutter and jerk inside him as Fox followed, pouring out his own spunk into the sweet liquid heat that surrounded him.

With a cry that was part benediction and part curse, he fell forward onto Alex and held him tightly as he buried his face into the other man's shoulder.

Alex wished he could stay warm and wanted in Fox's arms for the rest of time, but shadows were lengthening, he had an alien artefact to find, and who knew how long he actually had to do it in.

Fox was lying warm on his chest, and he nuzzled in to him, mumbling something indistinct about the alien technology. Alex, who had been stroking the long muscles of Fox's back, paused for a minute.

"Tell me what you know, Fox. It's important. It might even save your life." Alex rolled to take Mulder into his embrace and fixed him with an unblinking green stare.

"Scully knows about it. She went off after Dr. Sandoz. All you need to do is call her and ask her for it." Mulder pulled his face down again for a kiss, and Alex reluctantly began to get up from the bed, feeling cold and alone as he left the warmth on Mulder's body behind. Passing through the door into the living room, he picked up Mulder's phone and dialed Dana's cell. After a few seconds, he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Dana? It's Alex. Have you found Dr. Sandoz? It's really important. Mulder's life depends on locating him." There was a silence at the other end of the phone, and then, "He's in Ojo Caliente, New Mexico. I'm just on my way back. I was with him about ten minutes ago, why?" Alex would have kissed her if she had been there with him, as it was, he let out a war whoop, and broke the connection, casting around for Mulder's well used road atlas. Fox had risen and put on some elderly, disreputable sweats, and he leaned over Alex, leaning against his back as the nude counterspy studied maps.

"Albuquerque! Look at that. I get to take the left turn at Albuquerque after all!" Alex turned, grinning to point out his destination, and Fox spluttered with laughter as he recalled the silly phone call that had brought the two of them together at last. Then he was on the phone again, booking a ticket west for a plane that was leaving in four hours time.

The heat of New Mexico was immense, even the velvet darkness of the night on the reserve. Alex was still dressed for the cool clime of Washington DC, and was more than a little uncomfortable. He didn't intend to stay for any longer than it would take to relieve Sandoz of his life saving piece of machinery and had rented a car at the airport. Now he was on the Navajo reserve, looking for his quarry.

He had found the settlement of Ojo Caliente with surprisingly little fuss, and it seemed to have around a dozen houses, a church and a gas station that had a small store attached to it. Alex was depressed by the very appearance of it.

As he arrived at the large, clapboard building next to the garage, he spotted a man talking on a cellphone, standing beside a couple of horses. He was not going to lose anything at all by asking. He moved in.

"I'm looking for Dr. Sandoz. I don't know if you've seen him?" Alex spoke quietly, but the man flinched, turning to run. It suddenly dawned on Alex that this was the man he had sought. He had found him so quickly that he almost believed in God just for that moment. He leapt to stop the older man from running, not at first spotting that the other man had drawn a gun. As Dr. Sandoz turned to face him, gun coming up to position itself menacingly. Sighing, Alex, his hand in his pocket curling around his own gun, shot him through the fabric of his coat.

As Sandoz fell into the red dirt, Alex dropped to his knees and felt through the dead man's pockets. There it was, thank God. Fox might live yet. He hadn't given up.

Alex was back into his car and pulling away onto the road to Albuquerque before anyone had come to investigate the gunshot.

The next morning, an exhausted, exhilarated Alex opened the door to Fox's apartment, holding the piece of alien technology in his hand triumphantly. Calling out, he waited for his lover to come out. There was no sound. He rushed into the bedroom, and there was no sign of Fox there. The bed had been made and it was as if he had never been there.

He moved to the phone. Dana would probably be mad at him for continually calling her to pick her brains but, fuck it, this was an emergency. He dialed.

"Dana? Where is he? Where's Mulder?" The silence at the other end of the line was deafening, bruising him as he waited for the woman's answer.

"Alex. It's too late. He's in the hospital." He heard the words through numbness. He didn't know what it meant. Maybe it would still be okay. Fox needed the treatment, that was all, and Alex was here now with what he needed. Better not think about it too hard. He gulped.

"He's still alive? Tell me he's still alive!" Hoarse with the need to hear the right words, he stood, tensed against the words he feared.

"It might be better for him if he weren't. He's insane, Alex. He's totally insane." Her words were careful, pitying, and he wanted to punch her to make her unsay it. Instead, he heard himself asking for the directions to the hospital.

He was so tired now, after two days without sleep, he thought he would go mad himself, but instead he placed the metal fragment back into his pocket and went back down to his car.

Arriving at the hospital where Scully had directed him, he found himself a closet and snagged a white coat from one of the hampers. Stripping off his coat, he donned the medical garment. Then he transferred the artefact and his gun into the pockets before moving out into the corridor. All he would need was a minute or two to get the device through to Fox, and then it wouldn't matter any more.

He arrived at the secure unit where Mulder was being held, and within moments he had picked his way through the locks to enter. Peering around the corner, he could see Skinner and Diana. Scully was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't sure how this was going to work. The two of them were deep in conversation, but there was a doctor present too. Unless they went away, he was going to have trouble. He was still deliberating a way forward when Scully came up behind him, making him jump out of his skin.

"Dana! Thank God!" She looked at him, puzzlement in her face. "You have to help me. I can save him, but I have to get to him."

She shook her head.

"It's quite out of the question, Alex. He's beyond your help. I know he was your friend, but.." Alex seized her shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh painfully.

"No!" The cry was wrenched from him, and Scully's eyes flew to his face as she realized that there was more here than she had imagined. "You don't understand. I can help him, but you've got to get me to him. I can't get past them on my own." He indicated the trio in the room around the corner.

Dana's eyes rested on him, taking in the bloodshot eyes and the two days growth of beard.

"You care about him don't you?" She touched his face, gently.

"Care about him? I love him. He's my life." The bleak voice crashed like waves on rocks, and the shock of discovering that Mulder had a male lover appeared to shake her, although it could have been his imagination.

"I'll help you. How are you going to do this?" She smiled gently, and Alex felt weak kneed with relief.

"Take me in there at gunpoint and get me close to him. Ill do the rest." He smiled, proffering his gun as he did so and nodding as she took it.

"Let's go then. I may chicken out if I stop to think about this too much." She gave him a small, sad smile, and then the two of them moved out and around the corner.

As they came within sight of the two agents sitting in the waiting area, Alex could see satisfaction in their eyes. Skinner looked positively glowing as he surveyed Scully's prisoner. Above his head, Alex could see Fox in a green, hospital gown on the monitor, and he heard a hoarse screech of "Alex!" from him as he moved towards the Assistant Director.

Dana gestured for him to move over to the corner, where there was a window into the secure room where Fox was being kept. Alex wondered how they were going to get the artefact to him, and then Diana stood, smoothing down her skirt with a careful hand.

"Ah, Krycek. You're just in time to see us move him. We're taking him away to a place of safety. He'll be safe from the likes of you anyway. Just sit on a chair and stay out of the way." Alex sat, and Dana turned to Skinner.

"Where are you taking him?" Skinner merely shook his head at her, and then a couple of orderlies materialized, entered the room where Mulder was, and wrestled him to the ground. Fowley pushed a wheeled stretcher in, and Mulder was placed on it, kicking and struggling. Alex could stand no more. He rose and threw himself full length onto Fox, artefact pressed between them. He wriggled, stuffing it up under the robe Fox wore, and prepared himself for the beating he knew would come his way.

There was a loud bang, and something hit him in the back. Surprised, he stood, and turned to see Skinner returning his gun to its holster with a smile on his features.

Then he fell, gracefully slipping to the floor, and the lights went out for Alex Krycek.

Dana Scully stood, aghast, as Alex hit the ground, knocking the stretcher wheels with his shoulder and smacking his head against the floor. A.D. Skinner was looking at the still figure on the floor, a smirk on the blunt features. He turned to look at Scully, and froze as he spied the gun trained unwaveringly on his middle.

"Step away from him, sir, or I'll be forced to shoot you." Skinner put his hands in the air, and backed away from the angry little woman. Diana Fowley opened her mouth to say something, and Scully snarled.

"Just give me one reasonable excuse to kill you," She hissed at the taller woman. Then She settled on a plan. "In there! Move!" She gestured with the gun and indicated that they step into Mulder's erstwhile cell. After a pregnant moment, they all complied and Scully closed the door, locking it with venomous satisfaction.

Grabbing a pair of shears from a tray on the counter, she cut through the restraints that bound Fox, and shook him.

"Mulder, Mulder come on! I need your help." Mulder looked at her vacantly for a minute or two, and then shook himself.

"Come on, Mulder. Alex needs you. Help me." And at that, the befuddled agent staggered to his feet and at Scully's command, the two of them lifted Alex onto the gurney. Fox, a vision in his short, green, hospital gown and Scully with her smart suit rapidly turning red with Alex's blood, got the now moaning Alex onto the stretcher, and the three of them moved away towards the elevator, and possible safety.

Finis

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