Shelter From the Storm

Part 1: Hard Rain

Category/Rated: NC17 for M/M sex. If you are likely to be offended, go somewhere else.

Year/Length: 1996/~60,440 words

Disclaimer: Mulder and Krycek belong to the Surfer Dude and David Duchovny belongs to Tea Leoni and is based on an original idea by Mrs. Duchovny. I didn't make any money off these boys, much as I would have liked to, and suing me will merely get you my debts.

Summary: Mulder goes on holiday and finds an X-File...

Author's Notes: This was my first ever fanfic although that's not quite true, I did once write a Ranma 1/2/X-Files crossover which died with my last hard drive. Sad, that. I think it was the best piece of characterization I ever did, but there was no Krycek... I wrote Hard Rain because David Duchovny started whining about the rain in Vancouver. I felt it needed some kind of comment. He was proud to become an X-file and merely told me to get a life....I'm still searching for one. Of course, it contains the actor himself, and that is not to everyones taste. Please be assured that I put him back just as I found him, with no visible scars.

Beta: by the lovely Orithain, and audiencing by Frankie, for whom I have gratitude that manifests itself in all kinds of fawning behaviour....one day they will learn.

There was turbulence. The seatbelt sign had been showing for the last hour, and outside the plane there were immense clouds below, growling angrily. Fox Mulder put down the monograph he had been reading and took off his glasses. They would be touching down in less than an hour. He really wanted to go and freshen up, but the flight attendants were belted in, and the plane bounced and plunged as if it were a roller coaster. There would be no roaming the cabin while the plane was shaking this way.

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He hated the feeling of impotence he had. It was all too much like the rest of his life. It was not the way he would have wanted to begin his vacation. He clenched his jaw in irritation, thinking back to how this had all started. The events of the past few days suddenly flashed into focus.

"Agent Mulder, you're not helping your cause by behaving like this. You're tired, you're edgy, and you're jumping to conclusions. It is three years since you last took leave. I am ordering you to go away. Take at least two weeks off. Lie on a beach and recharge your batteries. You can't process information when your brain is fried! Do me a favor and get some rest. It will save me from having to check you into a sanitarium for testing."

The huge man rose from behind his desk. Dressed as usual in shirt sleeves, with his suit jacket casually slung over the back of his chair, the speaker was an intimidating sight, muscles rolling smoothly beneath the fine cotton of his shirt. Mulder did not appear to notice. His boss was a familiar sight, and the beautiful body was far from his thoughts as he tried to find the right combination of words to keep the big man happy. He licked his lips and turned away like a small child who had been forbidden something he wanted.

Assistant Director Skinner walked around the paper-strewn desk to stand looking out of the window alongside Mulder, who was doing his best to appear as sulky as a schoolboy.

"Did you hear me? I want you to take some time off from the X-Files. Agent Scully has already applied for leave. She is going on a retreat for a couple of weeks, and you may as well take time off at the sametime. It will give me the chance to get your office painted."

Mulder's face darkened. He turned to confront the Assistant Director as he formulated his reply.

"Sir, I want you to reconsider. I am just on the verge of discovering something significant from this text I found on the site of our recent investigation. The letters from this scientist lead me to believe that he was onto something." Skinner shook his head violently and removed his glasses as he passed his hand over his forehead in an age-old gesture that signified disbelief.

"Agent Mulder, you just don't get it do you? It isn't negotiable. You will go on holiday. You will have a good time. You will come back to the department refreshed after a break. You will not stay here or continue to work. If you defy me, I'll have you removed to the medical facility for testing. I'm convinced that you're in no condition to continue working unless you take time out to de-stress your life for a while."

Agent Mulder stared at the Assistant Director in horror. "For heaven's sake, Mulder. Anyone would think you were being sentenced to death. Lighten up a little, will you? Go to Miami, do some tanning. Date a blonde. Live a little."

The look of horror increased as he listened to this speech. How could this be happening? He was being turned out by his boss with no thought for his well being. Have fun? He didn't do things like that! He didn't know how. Whatever would he do for two weeks? Well, maybe he could go and sit in the local library, but have fun? It just wasn't going to happen!

He stared numbly as his boss picked up his jacket and left the office, with one parting shot over his shoulder as he went: "I'm going to play golf. It's tough counseling the staff. I've earned a round or two. See you in two weeks time, Agent Mulder."

Later, as he opened the door to his apartment, he found himself reiterating to himself, "Hah! They can't make me have fun. If I want to be miserable, I will be." He opened a can of beans and dug a spoon into it. He missed Scully already. She was always there, on the other end of his cell phone. The fact that she had left her phone behind hit him as no other act could have. She was really gone. Totally gone. There would be no midnight chats with his redheaded partner. None for the next two weeks anyway. He felt incredibly lonely.

Idly, he grabbed the paper. It was three days old, but that was OK. He opened it to read about a popular actor complaining about the weather in Vancouver, Canada. Interesting! He hadn't ever been to Vancouver. What was so wrong with the weather there anyway? Didn't it always snow in Canada? Where was the problem? These actors were always moaning about something. They had it easy. They weren't compelled to go find rest and relaxation when they didn't want to....

He caught his own thought and grinned ruefully. His face lit up as the smile creased his normally somber features. Hmmm. The city of Vancouver in grainy black and white looked somehow attractive. If he had to take time off, he'd go there. He hadn't been to that part of the world, and it would be interesting.

Entering his bedroom, he opened the closet, and carefully hanging up his suit, he pulled on his blue jeans before reaching for his suitcase and beginning to toss in an assortment of clothing.

The hotel was very comfortable. He had checked into the Waterfront, one of the better hotels in Vancouver, and as he looked out across Canada Place, he could see cruise ships lining up at the terminal outside. The harbor was busy, with tugs and float planes, sailboats and cargo vessels performing an intricate dance. For a wonder it wasn't raining, and he could see the mountains on the North shore of the inlet. They still had white tops to them, though it was warm enough where he was. He found himself mildly curious about the fact that there didn't appear to be any snow in the city.

He had thought it would be snowy. Oh, well, you live and learn. He turned on the television. How astonishing! There was that actor again. The news was winding up, and the reporter was investigating the complaints about rain that had been made by actor David Duchovny. The report was light hearted, but it did indeed seem that the level of rainfall recently was unusually high.

Mulder shrugged his shoulders. The forces of evil usually felt more at home with the gloom of rain. He didn't see what the problem was. Shutting off the TV, he grabbed his favorite leather jacket and decided to go out and explore while the sun was still shining. As he closed the door, he found himself whistling a melody. Maybe, just maybe Skinner was right. He would go and explore this new city. He would even,just maybe, date a blonde and have a good time. He wished Scully were there with him. She was a lot of fun. He might not have to date the blonde if she were there to share the moment with him. He set off insearch of something new and exciting.

On the street he found himself amid the bustle of the busy waterfront. There were tourists a-plenty heading for Canada Place and the cruise ship terminal. A white-faced mime stood on the corner blowing up balloons and attempting to get out of an imaginary box in the fashion of all mimes. Mulder glanced at him as he passed and then backed up to say "Hey, if I shoot a mime in the forest with a silencer and nobody hears me, is he really dead?"

Not waiting to hear the reply, he strolled on up the hill that was Granville Street. A brisk walk took him past bookstores, department stores, movie theatres and fast food outlets. A couple of sex shops caused him to slow down his progress and window shop, but for now he didn't need to stop. He was actually enjoying himself today. The busy street suddenly became a bridge that arched across a wide waterway.

He strode on and paused to look out toward the harbor. Maybe he should go that way later; it was certainly picturesque from here. As he finished crossing the bridge, he noticed the signs pointing toward Granville Island and followed them. Hey, there was no reason why he shouldn't, was there? He was going to act on impulse for a change. Maybe he'd have something to tell Scully when he returned to Washington.

At that moment, with the sun shining at long last, a tormented man sat in the Backstage Bar pub on Granville Island, hating the weather, hating Vancouver, and feeling terribly sorry for himself. He had the afternoon off for the first time in eleven days but was not feeling relaxed enough to enjoy it. He was, to put it bluntly, suffering from burnout. He had been in this city for far too long. He longed for his home. How much longer would they keep him here just to feed their money machine. Didn't they care about him at all? David Duchovny sighed into his glass of white wine and dreamed of beaches, studios and smog.

David, sipping his wine and beset by the ghosts of his psyche, did not notice the newcomer. He gestured to the barman to pour him another glass of dry white wine – the California, not the BC! He was well on his way to becoming maudlin drunk. Why was he exiled like this? What had he done to deserve this fate?

He gradually became aware of a murmuring. Something was happening behind him... or maybe it was just killer bees again! Duh! What a plot! He shuddered and looked at his watch. It was only five thirty, and already he was exhausted. What kind of life was he living anyway? Something had better change, and quickly.

He gradually became aware that someone had come to rest next to him and was apparently making himself comfortable. With a sigh, he turned to confront the newcomer. He was prepared to utter a bitingly sarcastic comment designed to repel the intimacy of yet another intrusive stranger. It seemed as if he was never allowed his own space. Everyone wanted a piece of him.

As David turned to face the intruder, the few people in the bar with him gasped. His eyes met those of the newcomer, and he uttered his own small, shocked sound. The person sitting beside him on a barstool might have been himself. He was astonished. As he brought his eyes up to meet those of the interloper, he saw a pair of lazy-lidded, blue-grey eyes, with heavy lashes and a knowing look. His eyes glanced over the straight, long, slightly fleshy nose to the well shaped, full lips. He knew this man! He could have been looking in a mirror.

Fox Mulder looked at his double's confused countenance and grinned inwardly. What a shock! He looked incredibly confused, and no wonder. He had heard that everyone in the world had a doppelganger, but now it seemed as if it were true. His very self was sitting here in front of him, on a bar stool, and to add to his confusion, he appeared to be slightly the worse for drink!

As he signaled to the bartender for a drink, he ran his eyes over the man before him. He was dressed in faded blue jeans, a slightly frayed sweatshirt, and a soft leather jacket. They could have been mirror images. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth.

"Under the circumstances, I think I should buy you a drink."

"Thanks." The confused man merely nodded, and the bartender pushed another identical glass forward."Where did you come from? Are you here to take my place? I know the show has had clones, but I didn't think they would actually manufacture one. Chris must have a bigger budget than I knew!"

"My name is Fox. I'm just here on vacation, and I don't know Chris. I only got here a few hours ago."

David shook his head. "On vacation? Why did you come here of all places? It's hell on earth. It never does anything but rain, and..."

Mulder was about to say that the sun had been shining a few minutes previously when he heard the rumble of thunder from outside. The sky darkened, and he heard the steady crackle and hiss of a downpour. He closed his mouth again, and it suddenly dawned on him that he was going to get incredibly wet going back to his hotel. David was in the throes of telling him about his desire to go home to California, and this seemed like a good place to wait out the storm. Mulder turned to him and prepared to be a good listener when he noticed a strange phenomenon. There seemed to be a flickering darkness around the other man's shoulders. It was only visible if he looked at him out of the corner of his eye. If he turned to face his companion, the aura was not visible. He seemed to have stumbled into a paranormal event! He was going to have fun on his holiday after all.

As the sky blackened, and the lightening began to flash a dark-haired man with eyes that seemed to see beyond reality into a disturbing place was sitting in the Starbucks opposite to Kitsilano Beach, moodily sipping an ebony hot chocolate.

Alex Krycek was dressed in a black leather jacket over his blue denims. His comfortable running shoes had seen better days, but he was not about to trade them in. He'd arrived in Vancouver a few hours before, on the bus from Seattle, and was beginning to feel safe at last. He'd done nothing but run for the last few months. Marita had betrayed him, stealing the antidote. He'd sacrificed everything to bring that antidote out of Russia. It had been the precious tool with which he had hoped to buy back his life. Her betrayal meant that he had been thrown to the mercy of the Consortium and was now once more a hunted man. It was only a matter of time before they caught up with him, and he harbored no illusions about how they would deal with him.

His mind wandered back to his last encounter with Fox Mulder. He could not help it. It was as inevitable as poking at a sore tooth. He'd kissed him on the cheek before he left. If only he'd had the strength of purpose to do what he really wanted to do, which was to kiss that perfectly sculpted mouth. He hadn't stayed behind to check out Mulder's reaction then, but he wished he could have been a fly on the wall after he had made good his escape.

A wry smile made Alex's face light up. Several pretty girls lining up for their coffee gave him the glad eye as he sat. He was a beautiful man, with large green eyes, fringed with long, feathery lashes, a nose that had a frivolous little upturn at the end, and marked frown lines that attested to suffering endured. His triangular face had a broad brow, a pair of high cheekbones, and a pointed chin. The body was chunky, with broad shoulders, slim hips and long legs. He also wore a prosthetic arm, though this was not immediately apparent to the two girls who were trying to attract his attention.

He looked out of the window towards the water, but the relentless downpour obscured his view and made everything look grey and faded. He knew that there were mountains beyond the bay, but they were hiding in clouds, and he could not guess where they might be. He thought that he had made it into Canada without being followed and that he had at least a day or two to rest before he need worry about being found. He would have liked to have a better day for his first view of Vancouver but he could wait. He looked forward to being an anonymous tourist. In a few minutes, he was going to have to look for a place to stay.

God, he was tired. How he wished he could have had Mulder by his side. What a team they could have been. He, the deadly weapon, the assassin, finely honed with his speed and dexterity, his lack of scruples and his hair-trigger instincts; Mulder, the controller with his analytical brain, his ability to enter the mind of an opponent, and his refusal to give up on a cause, his tenacity. Mulder had tenacity that bordered on the bloody-minded. It was, in fact, one of the reasons why Krycek found himself here, in someone else's country, with nowhere left to run.

He thought back over the last three years. He had no reason to love Mulder. Mulder had been instrumental in making him the fugitive he was. It was because of Mulder he had been locked into the missile silo where he had almost lost his mind. Because of Mulder he was afraid of the dark. If he had not been tied to Mulder in both an emotional and actual sense, he would still have his left arm. Why did he want the man so badly? His obsession was going to be the death of him, he just knew it. He felt like a moth, attracted to a dazzling light, knowing that he would burn and die, but unable to resist for more than a moment.

He sighed again. If he was going to die for Fox Mulder, the only regret he had was that Fox would never know. His death would be for a man who neither knew nor cared about it or him. He finished his chocolate and put the cup down on the table. First he needed a bolt-hole. What would a rat be without a hole? He grinned to himself as he thought of Mulder's name for him. After that, he would come out and sniff the air and look for some cheese. Rats liked cheese, didn't they? All work and no play made Alex a dull rat! He felt overdue for some kind of reward. He needed to find some fun. Once he had gotten a good night's rest and relaxation, he would try to decide just what action he needed to take in order to survive.

As he stood to leave the coffee bar, he first raised the hopes of a very attractive girl who had been trying to catch his eye, and then dashed them when he walked straight past her without even seeing her. She watched him wander off in the direction of West 4th St. and imagined how things might have been. As she sat disconsolately, she never suspected how close to death she had come. She watched the cute stranger with the well-filled jeans and the face like a lost angel walk up the hill and out of sight, then she sighed and ordered another coffee.

"I never met anyone called Fox before. Round here, it's a radio station." David was at the giggly stage of inebriation, and his drinking companion was not far behind him.

"I would just for once like to have the last word. That redhead thinks that just because I love her to pieces, she can get away with anything.." Mulder gestured vaguely as he spoke. David nodded sagely. Neither of them was listening to the other, and they were both enjoying themselves immensely, as they unburdened themselves of all their problems. They had spent the afternoon drinking wine on Granville Island before moving off to a bar on West 4th Avenue. Now they were on their way to David's house, arm in arm, as they enjoyed each other's company in a way that was most unusual for either of them.

"You know, you don't just look like me, you think like me. It's really strange. It must be an X-File!" mumbled Mulder, as he tottered along beside David, who'd given up trying to stay dry beneath his umbrella and who was now splashing through puddles as he danced a hilarious version of "Singin' in the Rain."

The rain was teeming down on them as they reached the pathway that ran along Kitsilano Beach. David, who was rapidly going into hysterics of laughter, announced that he was going to swim, and Fox, who was not far behind him in terms of inebriation, instantly started to remove his coat. As he lurched down to the shore, David, who was following, suddenly thought better of the whole idea,

"No, silly really! Don't want to get wet. Let's go to my place. I've got some vodka in the freezer." The two staggered off towards Point Grey, failing to notice the figure standing in the shadows, watching them.

As they left, Alex Krycek's eyes followed their erratic progress, and he shook his head in disbelief. He must be completely obsessed. Here he was in Canada, for heaven's sake, and everyone he saw looked like Mulder! He watched the two men as they continued on their way, and after a brief battle with himself, during which he called himself a fool and worse, he decided, as he had always known he would, to follow them.

Moving like a cat, rather than the rat he had been labeled, Alex stalked the pair, determined to find out whether they really were Mulder clones or whether they were merely an illusion brought on by the fact that he was now officially knitting with only one needle.

The rain, which had been lashing down viciously since late afternoon, suddenly decided to turn up the intensity a couple of notches. Ice cold needles of water slicked off Alex's head, and ran down his back. He shivered and almost turned back from his pursuit. As he faltered, he saw that the other two had come to a stop beside a house and that one of the two Mulders appeared to be trying to open the door. He could hear the cursing and giggling as firstly he could not find the key, and then, having at last managed to isolate the key, he could not locate the door.

"You know, David," slurred Mulder, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were drunk!"

David, who had finally managed to locate both key, and keyhole was now attempting to marry the two together. He ceased his actions to turn and address his companion, giving the watching Alex a great opportunity to see that there really were two Mulders right there in front of him.

"M not drunk, besides, so are you!" floated the reply as he turned back to the door, this time managing to get the key inserted into the lock. "Keys are bad! You have to lull them into a false sense of security before you sneak up on them," was the parting shot that Alex heard as the two party animals disappeared into the waiting warmth and dryness of the house.

Krycek was confused. Here he was, in a strange country, nobody knew he existed. It was pissing down with rain, and he was apparently in a world where everyone looked like his dearest obsession. For a moment he had an impulse to knock on other doors, just to see if more Mulders would answer. Finally, suppressing his wild impulse to march up and ring the doorbell, giving himself away if it really was his favorite FBI agent, he settled for making a circuit of the building. He searched through the garbage as he attempted to find out whose house this might be, but there didn't seem to be anything other than empty TV dinner packs and coffee cartons to indicate that someone actually lived there. He heard a dog barking briefly but nothing more until a cab pulled up outside and one of the clones came out of the front door shouting "See you tomorrow, I'll call!" before getting into the cab and driving off into the night.

Alex, who earlier had rented an apartment for the next few weeks, was toying with the idea of going home himself. He wanted to sleep but knew that he would not be able to if he didn't find out just exactly what was going on.

As he snooped around the building for one last time, the rain renewed its fury, and Alex heard a dull rumbling sound. There was a dark shimmering in the air all around him, as if a bright light had been turned on, filmed, and the negative projected into the atmosphere over the house. He paused in his attempt to climb the fence and leaped back onto the road as, with horror, he saw that cracks had begun to appear, first in the pavement, and then in the foundations of the house itself.

He never knew how long he stood, rooted to the spot in horror, as the fissures before him widened. All of a sudden the sidewalk shook for a stomach-churning moment. He stumbled and fell onto his side as he tried and failed to keep his balance with just one arm. The pain lanced through his remaining elbow as he connected sharply with the curb. As he lay sprawled in the road staring in equal parts of horror and shock, the house he'd been examining slowly began to fall in on itself.

The house seemed to melt, as a crack appeared up the front wall, widening from the base as it crept upwards. Slowly, the roof began to subside. There was little to be heard above the roaring and hissing of the storm, only a few sharp cracks as timbers gave way, once a groan as something within the structure moved, followed by a dull rumble as it finally settled, then the rain resumed its steady hissing and drumming.

Alex was dumbfounded. He pulled himself up, staring with dread as he imagined Mulder lying crushed within the devastation in front of him.

"No!" he screamed as the rubble before him came to rest. He hurled himself back across the sidewalk to the ruins as the enormity of what had just happened finally hit him. Feverishly he began to tear away parts of the wreckage. He didn't understand how it could be, but his love was trapped, possibly dead, right here in front of him, and he had to do what he could to save him. He could hear the barking again, and as he hauled on one end of a 4 x 4 timber, a little dog, some kind of terrier he thought, emerged from the scene of destruction and ran towards him.

"Hello, boy! Help me out here." he yelled as the rain renewed its torrents. "Where's Mulder, boy? Is he in here, or did he go in the cab? Where is he, boy? Help me find him."

The little dog, who had been shivering as she stood looking at what had been until moments ago a safe,warm house, suddenly trotted to a corner of the pile of rubble. There, she scratched at the wood and whined as Krycek came to see what she had found. He could hear the little dog whine above the hissing of the rain. Faintly, he heard a groan. He began to tear away the wreckage from the corner of the site. He was sweating as he attempted to negotiate huge pieces of lumber and board with only one arm.

Suddenly he could see a narrow tunnel, and at the end of it, he could see the legs of the man he was trying to help. The dog had squirmed into the space and was barking loudly now as Alex, abandoning any attempts to be cautious, pulled away a huge piece of plasterboard and revealed Mulder's body. It was him. He would know him anywhere. Alex knelt to feel for a pulse and was rewarded by a steady beating. The unconscious man didn't look too bad, although he was definitely out for the count. As Alex cast around for some safe way of extracting Mulder from the wreckage, people finally began to come out from their houses.

"Call an ambulance!" He yelled as he looked around helplessly. Maybe this would blow his cover again, but he couldn't just run away and leave his love to die. Fox Mulder had once more caught him in a trap without bars. He'd stay until he knew Fox was OK and to hell with the consequences.

"Sir, we have him now. Would you kindly step back please?"

"Sir, are you hurt sir?"

"Sir, could you tell me what happened here? What was going on?

The babble of questions rose and broke along the edges of Krycek's hearing like ocean waves. He could hear the questions, but he was tired and frightened for Mulder. He couldn't somehow get it together enough to answer the questions. Finally, a large paramedic guided Alex into the ambulance alongside Mulder and yelled at the crowd of police, onlookers and press to get out of the way.

"Can't you see that this man's shocked? We're taking him to the hospital. See him later after we've given him the once-over.

Alex slumped down onto the floor of the ambulance beside Fox and laid his head on Mulder's knees. A fit of shivering threatened to overtake him, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before the questions started up once more. He gazed at the unconscious man and fumbled for his hand. All the feelings he had suppressed for this man welled up, and in the back of the ambulance, holding the hand of a man he believed to be Fox Mulder, Alex Krycek did something he had not allowed himself to do since the age of 9. He broke down and wept tears for himself and the places his life had taken him to. He cried for the love of this man he had saved, who wouldn't ever want him. He cried for the fact that Fox would live and that he had saved him. He cried for the fact that this was all he could ever have.

The man in the ambulance patted him on the shoulder and said "It's OK Bud, He's going to be fine."

Alex slowly stopped his weeping, and gave the paramedic a somewhat watery grin. "I guess I'm just a bit overwrought. It was a bit of a shock, that's all, and I feel so helpless with only one arm. There wasn't too much I could do.

The conversation came to an end as the ambulance pulled into the A&E bay, the doors opened, and Fox was wheeled out of the back, with Alex following. They were put into a cubicle, and a doctor came in to examine them both.

"You're OK, Sir. Perhaps you could tell me what happened here?"

Alex searched his memory, exhaustion, fear and stress turning his face chalky white as the horrors of the previous few hours hammered on the inside of his brain, each one trying to be noticed. He swayed and abruptly vomited, as he reached the state of shock he had deferred for the past little while. The doctor, who had been examining David, gave Alex a cursory glance and summoned a nurse.

"Admit these two, would you please? They should be observed for 24 hours. This one has a concussion, and the other is definitely suffering from shock." A groan from the patient on the table drew the attention back to David, whose breath was redolent with alcoholic fumes and who doubtless would be experiencing the joys of a hangover when he awoke.

The nurse gently led Krycek to a wheelchair and bore him off to a ward, settling him into the dreaded green hospital gown before ushering him into a bed opposite a window.

"Can you tell me, what's the rationale behind these gown things? They never meet at the back. Why is that?" The nurse, appreciating her patient's good looks, chuckled.

"I guess it's to make sure you stay humble and do as you're told. You don't want to get too high and mighty when your ass is hanging out!"

"Nurse!" Krycek couldn't resist flirting just a little: "Is that a technical term? Which piece is that?"

The nurse grinned at him and turned to leave the room, tossing her final rejoinder over her shoulder as she left.

You'd better pray you never find out. We do things here with enemas and cold spoons that would make your blood run cold!"

Alex laughed for a moment before suddenly becoming very thoughtful as he considered her words. He shivered and began counting the seconds before he could take off. No way was he going to stay here, pleasant though it was to dally with pretty nurses. He had to get out of here, and he had to make sure Fox was OK. He was just about to get himself dressed and go in search of the special agent when a couple of orderlies arrived with David, on his stretcher, and transferred him onto the bed beside Alex.

"Hey, what do you know? I get to sleep with Mulder after all!" Alex grinned wryly to himself. He was beginning to feel a little better, and though he absolutely would not be here tomorrow morning, he was going to stay for a little while yet. He felt like the moth that circles a lighted candle knowing that he would eventually die of it, but too bedazzled to leave. As the orderlies returned to their station, Alex pushed himself up onto his good elbow, and in the low lighting of the room, he studied the face of the man he thought was his love.

David was still pale but a better color than he had been earlier. Someone had covered his left cheekbone with a Band-Aid, and bruising was beginning to discolor his arms, disappearing under the short sleeves of the ubiquitous green garment he was wearing. Alex scrambled down from the high hospital bed and stepped across to gaze at his unconscious object of desire.

David was lying tidily on his back with his arms down at his sides. His long legs were together, his hands lying loosely open along his thighs. His face was white, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His thick hair was falling down over his forehead, partially covering a purple bruise on his forehead. His mouth was slightly open, and he was snoring very gently as he slept. Alex looked for a long time before putting out his hand and gently touching his cheek, then running it down the side of his face, caressing the stubbly jaw-line, and gently fondling his ear. David moved slightly and mumbled something unintelligible as he did so. Alex jerked his hand away, uncertain if he would wake, and if so, what would happen. In many ways he wished that Mulder would wake up and kill him right now. He'd be out of his misery, and the endless future he foresaw of always running, always hiding, and never, ever being warm again would be gone. He took a deep breath and bent forward to kiss the sleeping man first on the forehead then on his lips.

Alex, half crazy with longing, and half terrified of discovery, retreated to his own bed to take care of the pressing urgency he was experiencing. His penis rose from his groin like a tower and was so hard it hurt. He grasped it and rubbed it with saliva, watching as the little eye on the head winked open and closed while he stroked. His fingers slid up and down the shaft, squeezing and pumping as he dragged the slick skin over the rigid, stiffened core that it covered. Finally, his body arched on the bed and his eyes fixed on the man sleeping next to him, he felt his climax grow within him. It started from his balls and with gathering speed, rushed up the shaft of his penis in a red tide that eliminated all conscious thought and flooded his tired body with incredible sensation. His semen spurted high in the air as he writhed and panted.

"Oh Fox! Ya tebya lyublyu. Lyublyu."

He lay still, too shattered to move for just a few moments, and then, hauling himself off the bed, once more he crossed to the closet and, opening the door, considered his wet clothing. After a few moments' thought, he silently apologized to the other man before pulling on David's dry sweats. Finally he turned to the door, checked for passing nurses, and finding the way clear, he drifted away into the shadows like a ghost in the darkness.

Fox Mulder woke late the following morning. He opened one eye and promptly closed it again with a moan that echoed and reverberated around his head as if he were lying in the Grand Canyon. He was thirsty. Fumbling for the telephone, he dialed room service. The voice at the other end of the phone was almost unbearable, but somehow, he managed to order a gallon or two of juice, coffee, cereal and toast.... and aspirin. The lady taking his order had promised to send him aspirin. He loved her. Subsiding into his bed once more, he waited.

Much later, having re-hydrated his body, popped a couple of aspirin, and breakfasted, he emerged from his shower feeling pretty close to perfect once more. The hangover had left him, and he was thinking over the interesting evening he had spent. He had a double! That was very cool. He should go over to David's place and get some photos to take back and show Scully. She would be amazed at just how alike they were. He would also call into the library today. He was still curious about the strange flickering darkness that he had seen surrounding David on a couple of occasions the night before.

Running a comb through his thick hair, he pulled on his jeans and sweatshirt, grabbed a warm jacket and trotted off to face what the day might bring. Emerging onto the sidewalk in front of Canada Place, he stood for a moment looking at the mountains of the North Shore. The day was beautiful, sunlit and warm, with the scent of coffee in the air. He summoned a cab and gave the driver David's address.

The cab moved off, and Fox sat back to watch the view as it found its way over the Burrard Street Bridge and out towards Point Grey. Turning down the street he and David had straggled down last night, the cab pulled up.

"I can't go any further, sir, there are road works or something.." Grabbing a handful of change, Mulder thrust it to the driver with muttered thanks and scrambled out of the cab to go see what the problem was. Reaching the barrier that had been erected overnight, he gazed uncomprehendingly at the rubble that yesterday had been a house. Finally, he turned to look for a policeman.

"Excuse me, but can you tell me what happened here? I was here last night, and everything was fine. Was there a bomb or something? Where are the people who lived here?"

"Sorry sir, I can't really tell you much. There were a couple of people taken to the hospital last night, but as to what happened, we just don't know yet. We're waiting for reports from the forensics team, but it doesn't look as if there was a bomb." The cop thought for a moment. "If you were in the house last night, maybe you would be able to give a statement to the detectives investigating the incident."

"I can certainly do that, but I don't think I know anything of value to them. Everything was perfectly OK when I left at about two am. What time did the house collapse?" Fox shook his head in bewilderment as he surveyed the mess.

"I believe it was shortly after two fifteen when we were called out. You must have missed it by only a few minutes."

Mulder was beginning to worry now. "I need to see if my friend is OK. Where would they have taken him?" The policeman gave him directions to St. Paul's Hospital, a mercifully short distance away, and murmuring his thanks, Fox jogged off in search of another cab.

Alex Krycek was once more within the hospital. He had slept well last night once he finally crawled into his own bed and was now feeling up to whatever might befall him. He was bearing David's clothes in a bag slung over his left shoulder, along with a bunch of grapes and a couple of paperbacks with bright covers. His jeans and denim shirt were clean and pressed, but frayed and worn. He wanted his leather jacket back and mentally cursed the mental aberration that had made him leave it behind in the hospital. Still, Mulder would be slow. He'd seen the bruises and knew that the man would be in pain. He hoped that it would slow him down enough to allow him to escape with his life.

He hoped that Mulder had no recollection of the previous night.

Approaching the nurse's station on the floor he had escaped last night, he warily avoided the nurse on duty and ducked into the room he had vacated the previous night. A pair of intelligent hazel eyes regarded him curiously as he entered. The man in the bed had been dozing but struggled to haul himself up as Alex entered the room.

"Hello, who are you?"

Alex rocked back on his heels as the man in the bed spoke. Mulder had lost his memory. This would be so much easier. He grinned at the man.

"I'm just a friend. Ummm..You can call me Sacha. I pulled you out of the house last night after it collapsed. Here, I brought you some stuff." He plonked the bag down on the end of the bed and pulled out the gifts, taking David's sweats over to the closet. Thank goodness, his belongings were still here. He bundled his now dry clothing into the bag and grabbed his leather jacket.

"Aren't you the guy who disappeared overnight into thin air? You caused a whole lot of consternation this morning. They seemed to think I had somehow devoured you!" David smiled wryly.

"Yes, well, I have kind of a phobia about hospitals." Alex gestured towards his empty sleeve. That would hopefully pre-empt any questions his companion might think up. "I only came back to check that you'd made it OK and to get my jacket. I left without it, but I think I was a little confused." Alex grinned at the man in the bed, inviting him to share the joke. Misdirection was always the key. He was home free.

David had examined his books and now laid them down.

"Thanks a lot for these. I was beginning to get very bored. They tell me I can't go home until tomorrow, so I'm really going to go nuts with nothing to do. Besides, my mind is just spinning right now. From my perspective, I went to bed at home and then woke up here. What the hell happened? Can you tell me exactly what happened to me last night?"

Alex thought for a moment. What could he tell him? He took a deep breath.

"There's really not too much to say. All I know is that I was passing by, and I saw the house falling down. A little dog led me to where you were buried, and I pulled you out." He tried to look heroic. "I was scared stiff. It's not easy doing the action stuff with one arm missing."

"Blue, that was my girl Blue." David had pricked up his ears on hearing about the dog. "Where is she? Is someone looking after her?"

Alex tried to remember what had become of the pooch. Finally it clicked and he remembered.

"The lady from the house next door took her in when we left in the ambulance. I think she'll be OK."

At that point the door opened, admitting Fox Mulder, and the next few minutes of Krycek's life became exceedingly complicated. For a minute or two, the two of them just stared at each other. Then, as Alex backed up toward the window beside the bed he had lately occupied, Fox's face darkened, and he strode towards the shrinking double agent. His fists clenched as he prepared to inflict some serious injuries on this man who would not just go away, returning to haunt him and confuse him again and again.

Alex had retreated up against the wall and stood transfixed. There were two Mulders, one who knew him and one who didn't. There was no mistaking the fact that this man coming toward him right now, anger pooling the blue eyes and twisting the firm mouth into ugliness, was in fact Fox Mulder. He had no fight left in him. There was nowhere else he wanted to be.

"Go ahead, Mulder, just do it to me, finish it!" He'd said that before, he thought, a long time ago. Mulder had reached him, and was grabbing for his throat with his left hand as the right hand moved back to deliver the punch. Alex ducked his head and dropped a kiss on the reaching left hand, then closed his eyes and waited. Mulder faltered a moment, and the man in the bed caught his arm, pulling him backwards, away from Krycek.

"What the hell are you doing? Sacha hasn't done anything! He's just saved my life. He pulled me out of the wreckage last night. He came to see if I was OK. Why are you beating up on him?" Wincing as his hurried movement disturbed some of his many bruises, David released Fox's arm and pointed imperiously to the opposite side of the bed.

In a daze, Fox subsided, moving around to the indicated chair and sinking into it without question, his face a picture of bafflement. Many thoughts were racing around in Mulder's head as he listened to this speech, but the first one that surfaced was, "Sacha? Did you say Sacha?" His tone was one of complete disbelief.

Krycek stirred from where he had been standing and opened his eyes. Seeing that he was not in any danger of being manhandled right at this minute, he also pulled up a chair and sat down. His green eyes were defiant as he faced Mulder, who was now grinning derisively.

"Listen, you don't know anything about me. Not even my name, but just for you, I'll explain. My full name is Alexander. In Russia, the diminutive form is Sacha. Someone who was my friend would call me Sacha. Not you of course, Fox, but someone who liked me." His voice tailed off as he ran out of steam. His face had closed up, making him look as remote as an icon.

David stirred in his bed. He was now interested in the apparent dislike between the two men and wanted to know all about it. Right now he would attempt to keep the peace, but he would find out just what was going on here.

As Fox looked from person to person in astonishment, the two other men told their story. Alex, how he had seen the building begin to collapse, (leaving out the reason for his presence, of course) and David, how he had woken in the hospital and how Alex had come to see him, bearing his small gifts. Alex was wondering how he could escape from the room, prior to disappearing once more, when Fox suddenly started a new line of questioning.

"Krycek, you say you thought you saw some kind of atmospheric disturbance? When did it appear? Tell me about it." He had seen something similar himself, and was now forgetting personal animosity as his fascination began to grow. Alex launched into a description of the phenomenon he had observed during the happenings of the previous night, and Mulder stopped him to have him go over it again and again.

"You know, it's almost as if you're haunted or something, David. We have to get to the bottom of this. Find out why. I need to go to the library; I was meaning to go today anyway, as I saw something like a black aura around you yesterday. I think we need to do something quickly though. Whatever it is that's hanging around you seems to be wishing you harm. It could strike again very soon. Krycek, you're coming with me. I want you where I can see you!"

Alex, who had been quiet for the last few minutes, looked up with a brilliant smile and nodded. "Sure thing "partner", it will be just like old times!"

Mulder, who had just risen to leave, tossed a dark look back over his shoulder at Alex. "Don't push it, Slasher!"

The Vancouver Public Library was a state-of-the-art facility, and the two agents were poring through the information they had gathered while seated at a table close to the information desk. Working swiftly and methodically, Krycek had assembled weather reports for the past five years and a number of filming schedules for the X-Files, whilst Fox was delving through tomes on Native American weather magic, the effects of disturbing sacred sites and rituals for banishing curses.

Krycek watched Mulder as he read. The intelligent face was tense, lips pursed as he perused a page in a huge old book he had discovered after an extended search. He was wearing his reading glasses, and his hair was well and truly rumpled from the constant running of his fingers through it. At one point, Alex got up and went in search of coffee and pizza from one of the concession stands in the library. Mulder had flashed a quick smile of thanks at him as he had returned bearing his offerings. Now, the pizza only a memory, Alex, having run out of things to do, was sitting watching him and wishing he could be here like this forever.

"Would you like more coffee? I could go grab another cup if you like?" Inwardly he cursed his stupidity. Christ, he sounded like a lovesick teenage girl! Why could he only speak in platitudes when he loved this man so much?

"No thanks, it will keep me awake. That last one is keeping me awake right now. Krycek, just what were you doing last night? How did you come to be there when David's house collapsed? I wouldn't have labeled you as the altruistic type. It doesn't fit in with the rest of the things I know about you." Mulder looked up from his studies and began to home in on the other part of the puzzle he had been presented with.

Alex mumbled something. As Mulder continued to press for an answer, he finally raised his eyes to meet Mulder's full on.

"I thought he was you, OK?"

In Krycek's eyes, Mulder could read hurt, shame, and need. Looking into the green eyes with their fringe of long, spiky lashes, he read the other man's bared soul. Noting his apparent defenselessness, Fox found that he was experiencing a new sensation. It took him a minute to identify the feeling and realize that it was affection. He thought back to the time a few weeks ago when Alex had planted a kiss on his cheek and sauntered out of his life leaving him feeling off-balance yet him with his gun to sit, puzzled. He had wondered why the hell Alex had kissed him. Then just this morning he had kissed the hand Mulder had raised with the intent to strike him. He looked back into Alex's eyes, seeing the growing hope, the green eyes turning black as his pupils dilated, and he felt something in his own gut lurch as a warmth spread through his belly and his heart began to pound. He was suddenly very short of breath.

"Krycek, I think we need to talk. Here is not a good place. Come on back to my hotel." He listened with amazement to his own voice say the words. He sounded hoarse. His breathing was ragged, and he had suddenly grown a fierce erection he hoped devoutly that he would be able to overcome long enough to get home without pole-vaulting through the window or something.

Alex heard the words as if from very far away. My God! Mulder was either going to kill him at long last or make love to him. Maybe it would be both. He felt very weak at the knees, and as he gathered up his papers, he tried to gather his wits together. It was no use. They were long gone. He felt foolish. His mouth was dry and he could not quite find his voice. Wordlessly, he rose from the table and headed for the exit, as the taller man followed, his jacket slung casually in front of him.

The chambermaid had tidied Room 1013 during the course of the day, and now it waited with sheet turned down and gilt-wrapped chocolate on the pillow. The door opened and the current occupant entered the room. As he walked into the room and crossed to look out of the window, his companion followed him.

Alex entered the room, closed the door, and leaned on it, in an attitude that suggested he might be poised for flight at any minute. Mulder sat down on the bed, letting his jacket fall to the floor as he did so. The two men remained silent for a moment before Mulder, taking a deep breath, opened the conversation he had been dreading - had been longing for.

"Why would it have made such a difference to you if it had been me in the house last night?" His voice sounded harsh. He wanted to unsay it, ask again, gently, but it was too late. Alex hugged himself with his one arm and raised his gaze to meet Mulder's. Once again that deep green stare of his offered a look to the very bottom of the man's soul. Fox shuddered. He didn't know what he was doing here with this man who had killed his father and caused him untold pain throughout the past few years. He didn't know what was going to happen. He didn't know what he wanted to happen. He only knew that he was here, and so was Krycek and that whatever happened here in the next few minutes would change their lives, one way or another.

When he finally spoke, Alex's voice was low, and he spat the words out almost as a challenge.

"How obvious do I have to make it to you? I love you. I'd let you kill me rather than hurt you. Hadn't you noticed? I could've eliminated you. I was told to eliminate you. I let you kick me around, use me like a punching bag when I could've killed you and that was what I was supposed to be doing. I let you go. I gave up everything to save you. I helped you. Now I'm on the run, with nowhere left to go. You even followed me here. What do you want from me, Mulder? You've already had everything. First you took my job, my reputation, then my arm. Do you know what it's like for me? I know I'm worthless now. I'm useless, scarred and maimed. Well, do what you have to do, Mulder! Take my life and then you'll have it all." His breath caught in a half choking sob. Once again he closed his eyes.

Mulder slowly stood and walked over to the younger man. He wasn't sure what to do. He was used to Krycek the defiant, tricking his way in and out of his life like a malevolent spirit. He'd always wanted to beat him, show him who was the strongest. He wanted now to shake the man in front of him and make him take a step back to become the old Krycek, the Krycek he could understand and hate. He couldn't bear to see Alex like this. It was as if he had given up.

He put his hand on Alex's shoulder and gripped it firmly, shaking him a little.

"Come here." He pulled the other man to him, and slowly Alex relaxed against Fox's chest, his head falling to rest on the other man's shoulder as his arm went around his waist. After a moment, slowly and deliberately Mulder's arms wrapped around Krycek and came to rest on his shoulders. They stood motionless, holding each other, before Mulder, feeling Alex trembling within his grasp, slowly began to caress him. He stroked his back, gentling him, moving up to fondle the back of his neck at the point where the short dark curls ended and the long clean sweep down to his shoulders began. For a long while they stayed like that, then Alex lifted his head and slowly, gently brought his lips forward to press against Mulder's mouth, pushing his tongue between Mulder's lips, pulling him closer to him and feeling with intense joy that the other man was hard against him. He shuddered as he felt Mulder respond to his kiss, pushing back with his tongue, sucking and nibbling the flesh of his lips.

He cupped Mulder's buttocks and pulled him tight against his own erection. The kiss went on forever. Mulder, who had at first seemed a little uncertain, was now thrusting his tongue down Alex's throat. His hands were roaming over his body as they kissed. Mulder had pulled Alex's shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and was stroking the long hard muscles of his back with one hand, as he buried the other in Alex's hair and leaned into the kiss. As they finally broke apart, gasping, Mulder looked at Alex. His eyes were wide and full of love. Once again, he felt that sensation in the pit of his stomach that clutched, swooped and thrilled him. He was going to do this. He wondered why he had ever resisted when it was so obviously so right. He groped towards Alex and pulled the leather jacket off his right arm. The jacket tumbled to the floor, where it lay unremarked.

Mulder turned his attention to the shirt. Fumbling with Alex's shirt buttons took altogether too long, and he was just about to rip the damned thing open when Alex said mildly, "Fox, Fox, listen baby, I want you. I want this so badly, but if you destroy my shirt, you're gonna have to keep me in your room forever because I don't have any other clothes besides what I'm wearing and these that got filthy and soaked last night. I had to travel light. So just be kind to my shirt, 'K?".

Mulder paused for a minute and then took the other man's face between his hands, kissing the tender mouth and then his jaw and neck as Alex groaned and with his one hand fumbled his own buttons undone. Mulder's T-shirt followed Alex's denim to the floor, and somehow the two of them were pressed chest to naked chest. Alex pushed his tongue into Fox's ear as Mulder wrestled first with his own belt and then with Alex's zipper.

Kicking off his pants, Alex pushed down on Mulder's jeans, succeeding in getting them caught up around the knees, toppling the two of them over onto the bed, where he landed on top but was unable to stop himself from hitting his head hard on Mulder's teeth. His equilibrium deserted him, and he began to laugh even as the stars whirled around his head. Jeez! Even when they were finally getting on well together, Mulder was still beating him up! He was fated!

Mulder, who had just tasted Alex's blood for real, looked up at the other man in astonishment. Seeing him gazing in complete amazement was too much for Alex, and he broke up completely, rolling over, crying with laughter and holding his ribs. Mulder sat up grinning as the other man laughed, watching him firstly with appreciation of the other man's unconscious beauty and then with a desire that gradually began to take over all conscious thought. He looked down at Alex, the broad chest tapering to slim hips, the strong legs and flat stomach. His eyes were finally drawn to the ruin that was his left arm. He caught his breath at the sight of it, shaking his head.

His first inclination was to look away, to deny that this had happened. His mind went back to the night they had spent in the cell in Tunguska. Alex had been whole then. Why hadn't he given in that night and done what he now realized he'd wanted to do since the two of them had first met? He looked back at Alex's left shoulder. Somehow, it was partly his fault that this had happened. He owed it to Alex not to be revolted by it. As he looked, it dawned on him that even though this injury was devastating, it didn't change how he felt. He could regret Alex's loss, but Alex was who he was, and this hadn't changed him. He was the person he had always been, infuriating, ruthless, vulnerable, and beautiful. Fox wanted him.

He gazed once more at the beautiful face gasping with incomprehensible laughter then, lowering himself towards the still laughing Alex, he began kissing his way from his navel down towards his groin. Alex's laughter finally subsided, and he moaned, groping down to bury his hand in Fox's thick hair. Pushing his hands up across Alex's chest to tweak his nipples, Fox brought them sliding down over Alex's ribs to his hips and then dug them behind him to grab his buttocks. He kneaded them, pulling the cheeks of his butt apart, not yet touching the penis that rose outward from his groin. Alex gasped and arched his back in an attempt to push his engorged cock up against Mulder's lips, so close he could feel the breath on his glans. After a moment or two when Mulder still held off, Alex whimpered and thrust upwards once more.

"Please, oh please. I want you so much."

"Alex...Oh, hell! Sacha, are you quite sure you want this?" Mulder already knew the answer, but he wanted to torment the man a moment longer.

"Oh God, Mulder, I've waited my whole life for this. Please, please..." His voice was thick with longing, and his eyes were dark before he closed them, somehow giving control over to Fox with this small gesture.

The tiny gesture of submission made Mulder's penis lurch. He looked at Krycek lying below him, and very slowly Mulder finally ducked his head down and opened his lips around Alex's erect penis. The head was like velvet and tasted faintly salty. The shaft, which Fox was now holding, rapidly became slick with moisture as he worked his head up and down. With his other hand, Fox found the crease of Krycek's bottom, and with a little saliva to moisten his fingers, he began to stroke up and down the cleft before slowly working his fingers into the other man's anus in search of the little gland he knew would be there. A groan let him know that he'd found it, and he stroked his finger in and out, massaging it as he licked along the man's penis before sucking it deeply into his throat.

Alex's breath was coming in ragged gasps now, and his whole body tensed up as his orgasm built. He tried to call out a warning to his lover, but all that came out was a strangled croak as he suddenly melted and torrents of prickling, tingling, piercing sweetness poured through his belly and gushed out in a flood into the other man's mouth. Mulder kept right on sucking until Alex gasped out a plea for him to stop. Pulling the man up to meet his lips, Alex could taste the faintly acrid trace of his own come on the tongue of his lover.

"Oh baby! Oh sweet baby! If you only knew how much I've wanted you." His voice tailed off as he opened his lips beneath Mulder's once more. If Mulder killed him now, he would die so happy. He snuggled up against the hard body of his lover and felt the pole-like erection the older man was pressing up against him.

"Fox, I need to take care of that for you, baby. Come here." Alex was rolling Mulder over, reaching around him to grip his prick and gripping it firmly as he kissed and nibbled his way up towards the nape of Mulder's neck. Reaching down, he moistened his fingers with saliva, and transferred the slick fluid to his cock. He was hard again, and his cock strained against the other man's anus as Alex pushed, still gripping the other man's penis as he rubbed it up and down.

Fox cried out once as Alex's prick pushed its way into his rear. It stung, then it hurt, then it didn't hurt any more, Oh, God! It felt so good! He closed his own hand over Alex's, and the two of then, body slick with sweat, gasped and surrendered to a fierce orgasm. Mulder's muscles began to contract and relax as he toppled over the edge into bliss. Alex caught the jetting sperm as it pulsed out of his penis and smearing it up and down his shaft, milked him until nothing more appeared. The strong pulses clenching around Alex's dick brought him over the threshold once more, and choking back a cry, he collapsed onto the edge of the bed, almost blacking out for a minute or two.

After a moment, he opened his eyes once more to look for Mulder. The other man was lying along side him, up on one elbow, watching him with an amused expression on his face. Alex furrowed his brow, gazing at this man he had longed for, and sent him an unspoken question.

"Krycek, do you think it's time we had our talk yet?" Mulder's grin let Alex know that he was joking. Alex thought for a minute and then responded.

"Talk, talk, talk, that's all you FBI agents ever do. Who do I need to fuck to get a cup of tea round here?" Mulder smiled down at him before bending to kiss him soundly, nibbling along his lower lip and then probing deeply with his tongue.

"OK, I guess you got the coffee in the library, let me see what I can do about tea. Then we should get on with our research;, something tells me we don't have much time."

Darkness was falling at the end of a sunny day. David Duchovny was feeling very sore but even more bored. He was thinking about demanding to get up and start packing his things in preparation for discharging himself from the hospital when the door to his room opened once more, and the two men who had visited him earlier came back into his room. Glancing at both, he could sense a change in their attitude. Somewhere during their day, they had obviously achieved some kind of working relationship. They appeared to have accepted each other. He searched for signs of bruising on either man but could find little more than a cut on Krycek's forehead. Happy that he wasn't going to have his bed used for a pitched battle right at this moment he raised a cautious eyebrow.

"Hey guys, what's happening? Did you find out anything useful?"

Mulder took the seat to the right of David's bed and prepared to pontificate, while Alex, ever restless, moved stealthily around the room, checking out of the window, looking in closets and behind screens. Mulder began to talk, initially, about the history of the area.

"You know that there have been people living here for thousands of years?" He asked rhetorically. "For many years there were cultures different from our own. We are newcomers to this land and are here for the most part against the will of the former residents. The natives of this area lived in harmony with nature, while we, the invaders, attempt to force our belief systems, our way of life, and our technology on the land and on the people who have always been here. Now I know that you come from elsewhere. You don't belong here in the Vancouver area, and you are particularly at risk of offending the spirits that still remain in the land. Your current employment focuses on tales that feature the occult, and given this, my research is rapidly leading me to the conclusion that you have somehow brought what, for want of a better term, I'm going to call a curse on yourself." Mulder, leaning forward as he always did to punctuate his dissertation with gestures, paused for a moment. Alex crossed over to stand behind him as he fixed David with an intense stare.

David, who had been listening, though not intently, began to take in what was being said.

"Are you telling me that I've somehow violated some kind of taboo? Just supposing that was true, what could I possibly do about it?"

Krycek, who had until now kept silent, came forward to grab David's arm, coming to rest on the bed as he did so.

"Listen, man! You're in danger right now. You've annoyed something, and until we can find out what it is, you are gonna be better off indoors. I don't know how to break this to you, but this climate is hostile, specifically to you!"

Mulder, who was now looking at Krycek as if he could somehow make him vanish with a wave of his hand, joined in.

"We know that it's a spirit that you have somehow activated. We think we know where the spirit comes from, but we need a little time to discover what the best treatment is and think that you should maybe leave the Pacific North West until such time as we can set up a banishing ritual. It's up to you, but I'd feel safer if you were to be out of the lower mainland."

David smiled. He'd been thinking much the same as he'd listened.

"All I want to do is pick up Blue, and I can go home for a couple of weeks. I don't really want to stay here too much longer anyway." He threw back the bedclothes and hopped out of the bed, limping toward the closet. "I was looking for reasons to get out of Vancouver."

"No!" Mulder was quite emphatic. "You can't just walk out of here. Look at what's happened already. How can you take chances with what might end up as being your life?"

David slowly subsided.."OK, help me to get away, and I'll be really grateful. How do you recommend I do it?"

Alex, who had been listening to the conversation while still roaming about the room, suddenly spoke up.

"OK, I'll go and find your dog for you. Mulder will rent a car, and somehow we'll get you out to the airport and onto a plane. You won't be safe here, I know it. You can trust my 'safety radar' even better than you can trust me or Fox!" Alex looked over at Fox, who grimaced.

"It's true. This man is always one step ahead of trouble." Mulder confided.

Alex stared incredulously at his partner as he spoke: "You mean apart from being locked in the missile silo and getting my left arm amputated without the benefit of anaesthetic do you? That's not what I meant at all. I meant that I always know trouble is on its way. I don't necessarily manage to avoid it. I'm not the one who bears a charmed life. That's you!" He turned to David. "This man loses his gun all the time. He gets blown up, shot at and poisoned on a regular basis. He's like the Roadrunner. He always bounces back. Now me, I'm more like Wile E. Coyote! Everything gets me. Everything! However I do see it coming!"

David turned from one to the other as they spoke. His confidence in them seemed to be dropping visibly as they bickered. Finally he broke in.

"So what can I do? You say I can't go outside? Short of digging a tunnel, I'm not sure how we can accomplish that. I'm surely not going to spend the rest of my life in this hospital because something's going to get me! I was indoors last night, but it didn't help me much. What makes you think I'm going to be safe here anyway?"

Mulder thought for a moment. "All of my research today has given me a feeling that you only actually trigger the 'weather demon' (if you want to call it that) when you go outside. We had spent a lot of time outdoors yesterday evening, and the effect was already well advanced. We'll work out a plan of action that will keep you safe, you'll see! Spend the night here, and we'll come pick you up tomorrow as soon as we can. In the meantime, we'll try to get things set up for you to leave Vancouver for LA. Sleep well, Bud." Krycek added his reassurances to those of his partner. David, who had been tottering towards the closet in search of his sweats, gradually subsided thankfully back into his bed.

"Thanks, guys. You have no idea how grateful I am right now. I'll make it up to you....to both of you."

As the two investigators began to retreat towards the door of the ward David gradually sank back against his pillows. He picked up his novel but laid it down again listlessly. He was already exhausted, but tomorrow he would be feeling better. Then, look out! He would not take any more silliness. He drifted off to sleep not even realizing that he was attracting the attention of all the younger, more nubile nurses on the unit.

"Where are you going? Alex, wait up! Alex..."

Mulder was racing to keep up with Krycek, who had emerged from the front door of the hospital at a great pace. He was confused. As they had been descending the stairs, Alex had suddenly looked at his watch and jumped. Then he had taken off like a bat out of hell, shouting out something like "Catch you later." Mulder had been thinking with increasing pleasure of sushi and a glass or two of cold beer with Alex and now all at once the rat was running out on him. He didn't know what was happening. All he knew was that he didn't want Krycek to leave him. The trouble was, that's just what was happening.

Emerging from the front door of the hospital Fox looked around but could not see where Alex had gone. Defeated, he stood for a while looking at the sunlit sidewalk, the shadows lengthening as he watched. Maybe Alex would come back if he waited, so he sat on the steps, gazing moodily at the Wall Towers across the road.

Time seemed to stand still for a while as Mulder reflected on the happenings of the day, reliving the taste of Alex's mouth, the softness of his lips and the sleek, round, hard shoulder muscles. He was confused. He didn't know if he wanted to stay here and see it through. He had never thought of himself as a homosexual before, but Alex was definitely all man, and right now he was all Mulder wanted. Finally, with a savage growl, he shook off his daydreams, rose to his feet, and then began to wander down Burrard Street towards the waterfront.

The sun was setting in earnest now, and long shadows crept along the pavement. Lights were beginning to wink on, and the air was cooling. He shook his head dejectedly. He was still trying to make some sense out of the day. From the hangover he had awoken with, through the debris of David's house, to the interlude with Alex, everything was moving too quickly. He wondered if Alex had fooled him once again or whether there was a problem he could have helped with. He suddenly realized that the sex they had shared this afternoon had been so intense that they had taken no precautions. There had been no thought of safety in their minds. He hoped that Alex was healthy. Maybe he was sick and had sought out Mulder to achieve an ultimate revenge.

Mulder suddenly felt ill! No, Alex wouldn't do that. He'd promised that he'd never harm him. Turning onto Cordova Street and heading towards his hotel, he realized that he had lost his appetite. Moodily, he mooched up to the reception desk to get his key.

"Mr. Mulder?" The reception clerk smiled sweetly at him, leaning forward to allow him a glance at her very impressive cleavage as she handed him his key and a message. "This just came in for you." Barely noticing her, Fox grunted his thanks as he padded through the lobby toward the elevators. Behind him, the impressive bosom heaved tremulously, before returning to her workstation.

Riding up in the elevator, visions of the afternoon in his head, he felt so miserable that he wondered whether he should just cut his losses and go back to Washington, DC. He could spend two weeks in his apartment watching videos, and nobody would be any the wiser. Real life was too hard. Real life hurt.

Tossing his jacket onto the bed, he kicked his shoes into a corner and moodily munched on the chocolate that had been left on his pillow. Opening his message, he glanced over it. It was from Alex. He had phoned a bare minute before Fox had returned to the hotel. All it said was: "Sorry I had to bail out on you; I remembered something I had to do. I'll see you around 9pm. Sacha." Looking hurriedly at his watch, he saw it was 7:30. Heading for the bathroom, he tossed his clothes one by one to the floor as he prepared to dive under the shower.

Alex had been hurrying. He was a little flushed, and his upper lip was beaded with sweat. He carried his bag slung negligently over his shoulder as he strode through the corridor toward Mulder's room. Arriving at room 1013, he put his bag down and knocked on the door. Through the door, he could hear the sound of the television as he waited. Finally, he banged the door good and hard with the heel of his hand. Footsteps approached, and the door swung open.

"Hi. I followed you home. Can you keep me?" Alex grinned his best goofy-little-boy grin as Fox stood looking at him without expression. Gradually the grin died, fading away as he became aware that all was not well. After a long pause, Fox stood to one side, allowing his nemesis to come in before closing the door again. The two stood without speaking for a moment before Alex, now anxious, broke the silence.

"What's the matter? You look upset. Did something happen?"

"Yes, something happened. You bailed on me without saying a word." The reply sounded bitter. "You just left me without telling me why. Where did you go?" Mulder was not looking at Alex, and as he spoke, he blinked rapidly. Alex heard him out with mounting surprise. When the protest ran itself down, he dropped his bag on the floor, and grabbing the taller man by the shoulder, he pulled him into a hard embrace.

"Listen to me. I realized that the laundromat beside my apartment closed in half an hour. I already told you I only had the one change of clothes. I had to get in there and start my washing before the doors locked. They don't let you start a load after 7:30. My other jeans were filthy after yanking David out of the rubble. I want you to keep me around you. If I start to smell like a skunk, you ain't gonna want to." Alex bent to pick up the bag and pulled out his clean clothes as he spoke. Mulder turned his head away, ashamed, as Alex tossed the bag to one side and pulled him against his shoulder, running his hand through the taller man's hair, and then pressing his lips into Mulder's neck where he nuzzled against him, nibbling and licking around his ear and jawline. Mulder had just shaved and smelled of spicy cologne. Alex's head swam a little as he pressed a kiss into the hollow behind Fox's ear. He realized that he was very hungry. Glancing at the bed, he saw the foil wrapper from the chocolate lying on the cover.

"You ate the chocolate. I wanted that!" His cry brought Mulder's head up to look at him, a grin beginning to materialize. Mulder looked at Alex for a long second as a sweet fluttering ran through the pit of his stomach. He looked at the man holding him and knew that labels weren't important any more and that he would do what it took to keep Alex in his life.

"Are you hungry? We could go out and get something in Gastown, or we could get room service and stay here." For some reason, Mulder's voice was not quite steady. He moved away from Alex to turn off the TV.

"Oh, let's get something here. I'm really tired, and I'm not exactly well off at the moment either. I was thinking of a pack of instant noodles for dinner you know." Alex bounced down onto the bed as he spoke.

"I don't know about you, but all this wild emotion is very tough for me to handle. I've had a stressful couple of days. I'm just about ready to crash and burn." He flung himself full length and kicked off his boots with a sigh that was almost a purr. "So, baby, feed me something better than noodles, to bring my strength up to par, or I'm gonna have difficulty keeping up with things."

Mulder reached for the phone and dialed up room service. As he placed his order, he looked at Alex, who was now lying on his pillow, with his eyes closed, humming something under his breath. His voice, always husky, was tuneful, and Fox wanted to have him sing louder. Replacing the receiver, he sat down on the edge of the bed, and jumped as a long arm snaked out to pull him close. Alex had not otherwise moved, but the goofy smile was back on his face. Mulder took a deep breath.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but are you...er...well?... Alex opened his eyes and looked quizzically at Fox, who was having some trouble finding words.

"What are you trying to say?" His grin was fading, and he lifted himself up onto his elbow so he could turn and face his lover, who was looking at him in what appeared to be embarrassment. Mulder, who had now grasped the bull by the horns, was determined to go through with his inquiry. He stared at his hands as he tried to put things into words without making Alex mad at him.

"Umm...We had unprotected sex. It was wonderful, and I wouldn't wish it away, but it was not safe sex. I know I am clean, because it's been years since I had sex with anyone, and I was tested for aids 6 months ago. I just don't know about you, Alex. Are you promiscuous? Are you safe? Who do you sleep with? I hate having to ask, but it's important."

"Fox, I haven't been in a relationship with anyone else since the day I met you. I've had a couple of encounters of the down and dirty kind, but I never really wanted to care for anyone. It's not something you do in my line of work. It gets you killed. Oh, there was Marita. You can't call that love though, that was strictly business. You'd better bet I used protection with that one. I didn't really want to actually touch her. Condoms were very important to me there! I wasn't careful enough though. The bitch betrayed me. Listen, we can both have tests if you think we should. I've already told you, I won't let anyone hurt you. You might not believe that, but everything I've done since I met you has been for you." Alex sat up as he spoke, tension showing in the lines of his face as he expressed himself. Fox remained looking downcast, studying his fingers as if trying to decide whether he would ever play the violin again. Looking up finally, he opened his mouth to ask the sixty-four-thousand dollar question. Alex lounged, apparently at ease but tense as a coiled spring while he waited for the question he knew must come.

"Alex, I have to know, why..." The staccato knock on the door made both agents jump. The voice from beyond the door called "Room service." And with a sharp exhalation of breath, Mulder rose to open the door and allow the bellhop to wheel in their dinner. The questions could wait now.

The two of them circled the cart like sharks, and as the bellhop left, they zeroed in for the kill, quietly devouring the food they had ordered.

Fox Mulder woke up to see the sunlight washing the walls of his room. He felt wonderful, better than he had in years. He stretched mightily and rolled lazily over to feel the warmth of the body at his side. His lover lay sleeping beside him, his short hair a little damp and spiked with sweat. He gazed at the face before him. Last night it had been twisted in passion that had made him cry out. Now, the wide green eyes were closed, and impossibly long, curling lashes fanned onto his cheeks. His mouth was slightly open, and the teeth gleamed whitely. Fox ran his finger lightly along the sleeping man's jaw, feeling the harshness of his stubble and watched as Alex frowned slightly in his sleep, turning towards Fox and nestling against his shoulder with a sigh of contentment. Fox planted a kiss on the end of Alex's frivolously turned up nose. The result of this was a wrinkling of the nose in question, followed by the opening of two inquiring eyes, and a sleepily mumbled "Hi Babe. Breakfast?"

Toying with the idea of whacking him with a pillow, Mulder finally compromised by gathering the sleepy man into his arms and kissing him long and deeply. Alex, who was by now beginning to feel more awake, responded, throwing his arm around Fox and kissing him back. Their tongues danced and flickered as they explored each other's mouths. The feel of Alex's naked body laying pressed up against him and the lushness of his mouth as they kissed made Fox hard. He pressed his penis up against Alex and felt a similar object pushing into his belly. This was the way to wake up on holiday. How come he'd never thought of it before?

Drawing his head back, he gazed down at Alex, who was smiling up at him through half lidded eyes in a way that made his insides melt with desire.

"I have to go to the bathroom first. Don't move, just hold that thought." He hastily dived out of the bed to go and relieve his bladder. Alex watched him go, admiring the lean, hard muscles, the deep chest and the suppleness of him. He had no excess fat on him, and Alex could tell that he was a runner. Nestling in the comfort of Fox's bed, he made a vow to start working out again. It wouldn't do for him to get flabby when his darling was so fit and gorgeous; however, like Winnie the Pooh he could eat a little something round about now, and he could use the bathroom too. He was bursting. A knock on the door made him sit up.

"Who is it?" Alex was out of the bed now, groping for Mulder's bathrobe and pulling it on.

"Room service." Came the reply. Great! Breakfast! Alex blessed the thoughtfulness Fox had shown, ordering sustenance before waking him. As the bellhop wheeled in the cart, Alex grabbed for some of Mulder's change, and gave the young man a tip. Closing the door behind him, he was about to lift the silver cover from the tray when the bathroom door opened and Fox emerged.

What's going on?"

"It looks like breakfast got here baby. Are you as hungry as I am?"

"Don't, Alex! Don't touch it. I didn't order any room service."

As Fox approached the cart, Alex swiftly crossed to the balcony doors and threw them open. Mulder grabbed the cart and pushed it through while Alex peered over the balcony down to the street below.

"It's OK, there's nobody down there." They picked up the cart and tossed it over the balcony. It began to fall, tilting slowly and suddenly exploding some thirty feet below them. Alex heard the tinkle of breaking glass, followed by the crash of the rubble hitting the road beneath. Ducking back into the room, Mulder began to pack rapidly, as Alex used the bathroom and then grabbed his things together. Pulling on his clothes, Mulder wondered how a morning that had started so well could have deteriorated so quickly. Alex was now fully dressed, prosthesis in place, bag slung over his shoulder, gun in his hand, standing by the door.

"Come on, Fox, we need to go now, or we may never get out of here." He glanced over to Fox, who was trying to stow useful articles about his person in the event that he and his suitcase became separated.

His eyes widened as he gazed fondly at his lover, and he grinned.

"Wow, is that a gun in your pocket?" Mulder gave him a level look.

"No Alex, I'm just pleased to see you... Of course it's a gun, you idiot!"

Gesturing with his gun that Mulder should go to the other side of the door, Alex suddenly flung it open, ducking and rolling to the other side of the corridor.

"Go!" Mulder peeked round the door to get the layout, and then he was out and running for the stair well. Jamming himself into the recess beside the door, he motioned to Alex who was already up and running for the cover it offered. As he made it to crouch beside Mulder, a bullet snarled past him. The two agents risked a peep, and spotting movement in the doorway next to Mulder's room, Alex snapped off a shot. It was rewarded by a grunt, followed by a thud, followed by silence. Motioning to Alex to stay back, Mulder crept along the wall toward the neighboring room. The door was a little ways open. Alex had followed him in spite of his command, and together, they surveyed the scene.

A man lay on the floor. A quick check of his pulse assured Mulder that he was dead. He looked at the man. There was nothing to make him stand out. He was small, dark haired, middle aged, with no outstanding features. He was the kind of man who would blend perfectly with a crowd except that now, being dead, he couldn't. Alex studied the body for a few minutes before turning to Mulder.

"Baby, I'm so sorry to mix you up in this. It looks as if they've found me. I'm going to have to take a rain check on breakfast. I can't let them get to you." Mulder listened to this speech in mounting indignation.

"Alex Krycek! If you think you are going anywhere without me, you have to be one sandwich short of a picnic. Besides which, I need your help with David, remember." Mulder put his gun back into its holster, and the two of them turned back for the stair well. Alex, still brandishing his weapon, led the way, as the two of them prepared to abandon the hotel, the corpse, and the fuss that would no doubt result. Watching him go in front, Mulder marveled at the sudden change in Alex. He had gone from being cuddly, sleepy and loving, to feral, menacing and deadly so rapidly, Mulder could only gape at him in amazement.

Being with Krycek was like having a pet leopard or something. This man was a killer. He'd executed more than one man without remorse, had been betrayed by those he trusted, and had stayed ahead of them, so far at least. He showed no guilt for the death he had just caused, and was now hunting like a great cat. Fox shuddered as he imagined the day when he would be Alex's prey. It suddenly dawned on Mulder what it must be like for Alex. He had thought he himself was lonely, but his situation could not begin to compare with the life his lover must have been leading. How could you go from day to day when everyone was your enemy and you had no one to turn to? A lump rose to his throat, and he swallowed grimly.

He has me now. Things will change for him. There would be time to console and comfort once they were out of this. Right now he needed to keep a clear head if he was not to get hurt or worse, get Alex killed.

The two men sat in the Asian "All day breakfast" restaurant on Granville Street and drank their third cup of coffee. Fox was feeling better now he had eaten, and all traces of the predator had vanished from Krycek's countenance as he had demolished a huge plate of cholesterol. Idly, he rolled up small pieces of bread and flicked them at Mulder, who rolled his eyes upward to heaven as he tried to quell the irrepressible double agent. They were making plans to get David safely out of the area, at least Mulder was. Alex seemed not to be taking any of this seriously.

"Alex, do you have a car?" Fox fielded a piece of bread that had gotten lucky and wedged itself down the back of his jacket.

"No, no car, no nothing. I had to leave Reno in a bit of a hurry, and only came here with my bag. I spent my ready cash on rent for a month, and that was about it. I'm gonna have to get a job if I wanna eat or anything fancy." Alex had the grace to look a little sheepish as he related his circumstances. Fox was once again struck by the charm with which Alex concealed the beast within him. Who would ever think of this sincere-looking young man as being a contract killer.

"Where would you look for work? What would you do?" He couldn't resist the sidetrack he was being shown.

"Oh, I'm reliably informed that there are a couple of Asian gangs trying to control Vancouver. I have a contact that could get me some wetwork if I want it, and I do need to eat, you know. I can't live on love alone, even though I'd like to. I can't live on your generosity forever, baby. I have my pride, even if you think I'm a sleazy double crossing SOB." He grinned at Fox again and flicked another bread ball, which rebounded off Fox's forehead and plopped into his coffee with a splash.

Fox shuddered. He didn't want to get into this. He would have to re-start the conversation when he had thought about it. It would be so easy to get into a fight right now, but he could resist.

Fishing the soggy bread ball out of his coffee, he flicked it back at Alex, scoring a direct hit on his cheekbone.

"Good job that wasn't a bomb, Slasher. You'd be in trouble if it were." He paused, drank the contents remaining in his mug and then leaned forwards. "We have to get David out of here today. I'd better rent a car so we can do it as fast as possible. Are you ready?" Alex signified his assent by getting up from the table and heading for the door. Smiling his thanks to the waitress, Mulder followed Krycek out of the restaurant. Together, the two men went in search of a vehicle, a small dog, a movie star, and a way of hiding him from the sky.

The clock was showing 10:30 by the time Mulder and Krycek found their way to the ward once more. Alex had a bag slung across his shoulder, and Fox swung the keys to their car rental ostentatiously, whilst in his left hand he carried a huge, multi-colored umbrella. Entering the room where David was being treated, they saw that he was up and about. He was wearing his sweats and lounged in the chair beside the window. As he looked up and saw his visitors, he smiled and jumped up.

"Hey, guys! Am I gonna be sprung or what?" David was eager to get moving. He looked a hundred percent better than he had the previous day. He no longer wore the tasteful head bandage, and though he still had a multitude of cuts and bruises visible, he was no longer paper-white, and the lively intelligence in his face was no longer blurred by shock.

Alex unslung his bag and began to pull things out with the air of a magician hauling rabbits out of a hat. Swiftly he presented David with underwear, shirt, socks, jeans and a pair of runners, all with the labels still attached.

"I figured that if they will fit Fox, they will fit you. You'll have to tell us if anything is a different size!" Alex grinned. "All brought to you courtesy of Mulder's Visa card, and no doubt chargeable to the FBI seeing as you're about to cross a bunch of state boundaries."

David, who had been wondering about taking the plane in his bare feet and stained sweats, flashed a truly grateful smile that encompassed both men as he gathered the clothing up and prepared to change. Alex, watching intently as David donned underwear and socks, turned to Mulder.

"Nope, it looks as if everything is the same size. Glad I checked." Mulder punched the smaller man in the arm and then grunted when the hard plastic of his prosthesis jarred his hand. Alex grinned nastily, and then turned again to David. "Blue is waiting for you down in the car. They wouldn't let us bring her up to you. Said she was not hygienic or something." Looking around at the room for the last time, each of the men had their own thoughts about leaving it. David hurried on ahead, leaving behind the memory of pain endured. Fox followed him, anxious to get going. Alex lingered for a minute, seeing again the sorry, shocked man he had been a couple of nights before, and remembering how he had felt when he believed David to be Fox and forever out of his reach. Slowly he shook himself, took a breath, and closed the door on his vision of himself as needy. Quickening his pace, he followed the other two men out of the hospital and down to the car.

Racing from the hospital steps to the car, David Duchovny felt like a total idiot. Lurking beneath the huge golf umbrella in the gold of a sunny summer's morning, he wondered what he was doing and why. Diving into the back of the car, he was suddenly licked all over by his little dog. Tears welled up as he hugged her and imagined how it would have been if she'd been killed. He reached over to punch Alex gently on the shoulder.

"Hey, I really am grateful you came by the other night. You saved us both, man. Don't think I'll forget."

Alex grinned over his shoulder at the earnest man in the back seat. "No sweat! I think I had my reward already. You may never know how much it's given me!"

Fox, who had been stowing umbrella and assorted junk into the trunk, opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat. Easing into the traffic, he headed out of the downtown core and across the Burrard Street Bridge towards the airport. "I've been thinking about how to resolve your problem, David. The local native cultures don't really have any solutions for curse breaking. All I have been able to glean is that you need to make restitution for your transgression. I was thinking that any New Age ceremony would do, but I called an old friend this morning, his name is Albert, and he's a Native American. He feels that you need to be far more specific to break the curse. You have violated a sacred site, and you will need to atone in a couple of ways. Firstly, you will need to make an apology through the same medium that you transgressed, so you're gonna need to broadcast a message over the TV, I guess. That's the medium you started it all with. Better say how sorry you are, etc." Then you need to return whatever it was that you removed from the site. In the meantime, Albert will speak to the elders here, and we'll try to find a shaman who will intercede for you and raise the curse."

David had been listening to Mulder with great interest. "OK, I can probably arrange to get on Letterman again seeing as I was in a potentially fatal accident, you know? That will give me the forum, always supposing that he doesn't bump me again that is.... I'm not sure what it is that I removed from the site, because I'm not sure where the site is. The only thing I can think of is that we painted this quarry red, to look like the Navajo Desert. You think it would be worth going back and painting it grey again?" David appeared confused.

"I don't think it could hurt. Do you want to arrange it?" Fox proffered his cell phone over his shoulder as he negotiated the heavy traffic along Granville Street.

"I don't want to think that I've defiled anything, but we were only shooting a TV show, you know? We do that all the time. Why would it come back on me? Why not Gillian, or Chris? Why not Rob, he was directing then? David pursed his lips, his brow furrowed in thought. He dialed a number and began to issue instructions for the restoration of the quarry. Alex, who had been looking out of the window, gestured to Mulder as an ominous black cloudbank began forming on the horizon. David, engrossed in his phone call was oblivious.

"Mulder..." Alex was beginning to feel nervous as he watched the clouds swirling closer. "Mulder, we don't have too much time. How much further do we have to go?" The first spots of rain had begun to appear on the windshield as he spoke. "Mulder, the whatever-it-is knows that David is here in this car. I've got a funny feeling that we're all gonna be toast before we get to safety." Alex studied the sky anxiously in the hopes that he was merely suffering from an overactive imagination but flinched visibly when a flash of lightning suddenly hissed overhead. A short second later, a crash heralded the beginnings of a thunderstorm and the spots of rain, which had been pattering down suddenly became a torrent. David looked up uneasily, his face reflecting his fear.

"Hey guys, can we hurry this up? It's beginning to feel like I'm a bug on a card. I'm out where everything can get me. I haven't felt so nervous since the Duchovniks were last in town." His grin was only partly humorous. Sweat had begun to stand out on his forehead, and he shifted in his seat. The car had slowed to a crawl, and Mulder was sitting forward in an attempt to see through the blinding downpour. He had just crossed the bridge and was now on the run up to the airport, but water standing on the surface of the road made steering difficult and braking problematical. A large truck thundered past him, drenching him with spray as it went. Mulder fought to stay on the road and still see where he was going. A sudden scent of ozone made the three of them jump. Alex felt the skin on the back of his hand crawl as the hairs stood on end. Knowing what was about to happen, he turned to Mulder.

"Oh Fox..." The zing and crackle of the lightning rocked the car. A smell of burned out electrical circuits pervaded the interior as the lights went out. A dull redness flared from the hood for just a minute before smoke filled the car and the rain drenched whatever fire might have been threatening. David was dialing again. Mercifully, the cell phone was working still. Krycek unbuckled his seat belt and went to open the door. Mulder shrieked at him.

"Stay in the car, godammit! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Alex continued to open the car door, ignoring the rain. "You don't seem to understand, baby. The car ain't going anywhere, and we're stuck in it. Visibility is poor enough that the next big truck that comes by is gonna kill us even if the big ugly that's up there stalking David lets up. I'm not used to being a hero, but someone has to get us off the road, and you're far too pretty to mess up if something goes wrong. It has to be me, Wile E. Coyote, esquire. Stay put, I won't be a moment. Just knock it out of gear for me if you can." As he spoke, Alex jumped out of the car, and seconds later, Fox could feel the jerk of the movement as Krycek began to push them to the grass verge at the side of the road. David was yelling into the phone, but Fox was not listening as he tried with all his strength not to scream Alex's name out loud.

Alex, meanwhile, was beginning to get the car under way. As he pushed the car, he anxiously listened for approaching traffic, aware that they would be unlikely to be seen before an accident obliterated them. Sweat mingled with the rain. He had never really thought how difficult it would be to push a car with only one rm. He breathed out a heartfelt swearword in Russian. The verge was approaching, and gradually the car slid onto the grass, out of the path of any oncoming vehicles. Alex stood in the lashing rain, with mud oozing over the top of his boots, and gasped out a sigh of relief. The heavens might kill them, but they were temporarily safe from being mown down by BC Transit.

"Shit! I'm soaked again!" Alex turned toward the front of the car to get back inside. A green coach loomed up out of the spray and flashed past them. The car rocked as it sped by. The wall of water its wheels kicked up drenched Alex thoroughly, pouring down the back of his leather jacket and soaking his denims. He reached for the door handle of the car, never noticing the dark limousine that slid by him in the gloom. He didn't hear the pop of the silenced pistol as it was fired. He felt something hot slam into his back, then he felt very light, as if he would float away. After that he felt nothing at all. With a grunt of surprise, he folded gracefully and slid down to lie in the muddy grass, where rain continued to lash at him, blood mingling with the water turning the mud to a pink froth.

Inside the car, David had succeeded in getting through to the BCTV Newsdesk and was attempting to convince the editor that he was not only David Duchovny, but also in complete possession of his faculties.

"It's a matter of life and death. I need thirty seconds of airtime. That's all. Oh for heavens sake, come and get me then." Exasperation colored his voice as he proceeded to give directions to the faceless nuisance at the other end of the phone line. He turned to Mulder and yelled over the drumming on the roof. "The film crew will be coming in a minute or two. Hopefully, I can get on the air and stop all this before anyone gets killed." Blue, who had been cowering down on the floor between David's feet, raised her head and let out a mournful whine. The car rocked suddenly and then stood still.

Mulder was looking around the car for Alex. Failing to spot the double agent's shape moving outside, he was beginning to worry. "David, where's Alex?" The two of them peered through the gloom to try and locate the missing man. Mulder opened the car and tried to see out, but there was no sign of Alex. Blue whined again and David soothed her before winding down his window to take a look on the other side of the car. Spotting the crumpled form lying beside the car, he grabbed Mulder's arm.

"Mulder, something's happened. You'd better look." Fox climbed out of the car and stumbled around the front to the passenger side. He saw his lover lying sprawled out on the grass, apparently unconscious. Dropping to his knees, he began to try and keep Krycek's face from getting under water. He had no idea at first as to what had happened. Feeling for a pulse in Alex's neck, he wished Scully were there with him. She'd know what to do, though knowing how his partner felt about Alex, he wasn't too sure if she would do it or just get out her gun and finish the job. He finally managed to locate the pulse. It was barely perceptible and very rapid. Mulder could not determine what had happened and tried to roll Alex over, bringing a wash of red oozing from his sodden black leather jacket.

"David, help! You have to call an ambulance. For God's sake, call someone to help him, he's been shot." A fast moving vehicle zoomed by them, spraying them with cold water. Mulder continued to kneel beside his fallen lover, knowing that to delay getting him to hospital for much longer would prove fatal to him. Shock had obviously begun to take its toll, and Krycek's features were bloodless in the half-light. David climbed out of the car but retreated hastily as a thunderclap sounded overhead.

"I've called for an ambulance. The press are on their way too. I was going to go on the news to tell what has happened and make my apologies. What can we do? Can you get him inside? I'd help but we might all drown if I do!" David reached out of the car to assist Mulder in his struggle to lift the sopping wet dead weight of Alex Krycek into the car.

Laying him on the back seat, Mulder tried to remove his leather jacket so he could assess the damage. Blood welled from a gaping wound in the fallen man's back, just below the right shoulder blade. Fox looked around for something he could use to stop the bleeding and settled on a roll of paper towels that was sitting on the back window ledge. David, who was once more talking into the cell phone, turned toward Mulder.

"The ambulance will be here shortly. I've given them the location. The press van is about two minutes away. Do you want to wait here or come to the airport to wait for the paramedics? I think I'm going to help most by getting this apology on the air. What do you say?" He scanned the road behind as he spoke. Mulder, who was trying to give his lover some warmth and staunch the bleeding, nodded in agreement.

"Call me on the cell if you succeed. I don't think we need any publicity for Alex at the moment. He'll probably not be too grateful for ending up on the TV. Good luck man!" As a van drew up outside the car, David stepped out, followed by his little dog. Fox watched for a minute as the van drew away and headed towards the airport. All he could hope for was that David would handle things the way Albert had suggested. He had no control over that. All he could do was keep Alex alive. He bowed his head over his erstwhile partner, and Alex let out a faint moan. Stooping down towards Alex, Mulder kissed his ear gently.

"Alex, you've got to live. You can't leave me now. I only just found you."

The faint thread of a voice reached him "Mulder, the Acme bullet proof vest is seriously defective." Krycek's eyelids fluttered for a moment, and a slight lift at the corner of his mouth made Mulder's stomach lurch.

"Hang in there, Slasher. I'm gonna get you out of this one. Just hang in there." Tears stung his eyes as he spoke.

After what felt like forever, blue flashing lights and a siren heralded the arrival of the paramedics. As they transferred Alex to the back of the waiting ambulance, Fox stuck grimly to his side, and when the doors were closed, he was firmly ensconced in the back of the ambulance. Alex, who was now wrapped in thermal blankets, lay sprawled loosely on a stretcher, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Mulder gazed at the wet, tousled head, and the sleep eased face that revealed the carefree boy Krycek had once been. His heart lurched. He would be staying close to Alex until he was sure there were no more threats to him.

Alex was aware of a dull ache in his back. He didn't understand where he was or how he had gotten there, but he was sure of one thing: he was not in a hurry to move. He took a deep breath, and a lance of white-hot pain sliced through the muscles of his back, making him hiss in pain and sending a black blanket fluttering down to shroud him from reality. After a few minutes, he risked a further breath, wincing as the pain stabbed him again. He lay quietly for a short while longer before opening his eyes. His chest was bound with bandages, and he was tastefully draped once again in the green hospital gown that he'd worn so recently. A slight sound made him turn his head, and he saw a sleeping Fox Mulder in the chair beside his bed. Fox lay back with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his head lolling untidily to one side. His mouth hung slightly open, and he was going to have a very stiff neck when he woke up. Alex looked at him for a very long time before he called his name. Mulder stirred and opened his eyes, squinting into the light. He winced as he moved his head from side to side.

"What the hell happened, Mulder? Did we get David out of here without injury? Is it still raining? Why am I here? Come on, talk to me!" He attempted to push himself up on his elbow, but a roaring in his ears and the threat of blackness falling down on him soon made him desist.

"I don't know what happened, Krycek. One minute you were pushing the car out of the roadway, and the next you'd vanished. I thought you'd run out on me again. David saw you lying down beside the car. He called the ambulance, and we got you here. You had to have surgery to remove the bullet from your back. It happened two days ago now." Alex looked incredulously at Mulder as he continued. "They broadcast David's apology to the rain spirits from the airport about half an hour after I got you into surgery. It was quite astonishing. The sun came out shortly after that. He's gone back to L. A. to convalesce though. He won't be back to Vancouver for a couple of weeks. I thought you would probably like to forgo the publicity that being on TV with David would give you, so I kept us both out of it. By the way, I'm your brother. I registered you as Alex Mulder." Alex thought about this for a short time, and a grin slowly spread across his face.

"Hey, I didn't say I'd marry you yet, and if I do, I'm keeping my maiden name!" Mulder, who had been looking at Alex with concern, picked up a pillow from the next bed and slammed it onto Alex's head. Dropping his weapon, he leaned forward to put his lips onto Alex. The kiss brought a moan from Alex, who was hurting too much to do anything except accept his lover's mouth. His tongue crept in between Mulder's lips and gently found that of the other man. He sighed as he realized that he would not be able to stay with Mulder, at least not right now.

"So how long 'til I get out of here?" He opened his eyes hopefully.

"The doc says it will be a couple of days. Also I have to tell you that even though you started off with two changes of clothing, you're gonna be making a fashion statement if you go out wearing the things you had on at the airport. There are holes through everything, including you. You need a whole new outfit. Even the boots are toast. By the time I got them dried out and cleaned the blood off them, they attracted the flies so badly that I tossed them in the garbage. So you see, you're gonna have to stay there at least 'til I can get you something to wear." Mulder's smile masked a real anxiety. He wanted to get Alex away before the shadowy whoever-it-was discovered he was not dead and tried again. Alex was helpless here in the hospital, and Fox would have to go out and buy him clothes before he could sign himself out.

Eyeing the various tubes leading into the different portions of Alex, Mulder figured he would be there at least for another day. Alex however, had other plans.

"Baby, do something for me? Lend me your gun, and go get me some stuff to wear. I'll pay you back, I promise, but I have to get out of here. I can't stay. I'll be dead before another 24 hours if I do. I'm going to have to leave Vancouver, I think, but I have to get out of here first.

Mulder started to object, but he knew in his heart that this was exactly what he had been thinking himself. Reluctantly, he drew up his pants leg and took his second gun out of the tiny holster on his calf.

"This should keep you safe and be small enough to keep out of sight unless you need it, but you're going to have to stay conscious. We need to sit you up a little so you can see what's out there." Alex winced. He knew that it would hurt to move, but he was a pragmatist, and if it could not be avoided, it could be endured.

"You're going to hurt me again,aren't you?" He grinned at Mulder ruefully. "OK baby, but you have to know that I'm gonna renegotiate this relationship just as soon as I can get out of here." He took a deep breath as Mulder prepared to raise him up onto a bank of pillows. The liquid fire that seared his upper body made him grunt and go limp. A faint laugh told Fox that his troublesome love had recovered a little. He was pale, with grey rings under the pain darkened green eyes, currently squeezed shut, a tear glittering under his lashes.

"Alex, are you OK? Alex?:" Mulder was not sure whether to summon assistance or give him a shake. Alex slowly opened his eyes, and very gingerly he drew a breath.

"Oh, fuck! That was really awful. That one compared with the worst times you ever beat me up. You should bottle that one and sell it as canned torture." Krycek looked up at Mulder from beneath his wet, spiky lashes, causing Mulder to experience a reaction quite inappropriate for a sickroom. Resisting the urge to dive into the bed with him, he cleared his throat and handed his gun to Alex.

"Stay well, Alex, I'll be back as soon as I possibly can, with something to cover your nakedness." He turned to leave: a snort from the patient in the bed behind him made him turn around. Alex blew him a kiss.

"You know, there are plenty of people who would like me this way. However, if it makes you feel better if I cover up, I take a size ten wide in shoe. No Day-Glo colors on my boots please, I'm a conservative type at heart." Fox flipped his beloved the bird as he exited the ward.

It's deja view all over again! thought Mulder to himself as he pounded up the stairs to the ward where Alex lay. He seemed to have spent the last millenium bringing clothes to injured men in back fastening green hospital gowns. He wondered if it was a dream and whether he would wake up to find himself in hospital wearing a green hospital gown, and waiting for some awful surgery.

Once he reached the correct floor again he pushed open the door to Alex's room. Resistance to his push made him nervous. Shouldering the door, he rammed it with all his strength. It opened by degrees, and he squeezed inside. As he pushed his way past the obstacle, he could see Alex pointing the gun at him. After a moment, there was an audible sigh, and he relaxed his arm. Mulder looked down to see the body of a man on the floor up against the door. There was a neat, round hole in his forehead. He had bled onto the floor a little, but there was very little sign of a disturbance.

"Fuck it, Fox, I nearly killed you. I should have told you to announce yourself before you came in. I was just gonna fire through the door. My God!" Alex was flushed, hectic color staining his cheekbones. Mulder dropped the bags he was carrying and rushed over to hold Alex. Alex buried his head in Mulder's shoulder. "God, Fox, get me out of here. Please get me out of here."

Mulder turned to survey the neatly drilled corpse. He counted two men his Alex had terminated since their traumatic meeting. He was going to have to get a Dumpster outside his apartment if Alex was going to be staying with him.

I brought you some stuff. Are you going to be able to get dressed?" He indicated his bags, the contents of which were now strewn over the linoleum floor. Alex nodded and bit his lip before throwing back the bedclothes and swinging his legs around. Mulder stood anxiously while he waited to see if Krycek would pass out or not.

Grunting from the pain, Alex sat, bandaged and beautiful, his muscled legs protruding from beneath the gown. Mulder hesitated but then began to untie the strips at the back of the gown. It fell to the floor, leaving Alex clad only in his bandages. He put out his legs, and Fox, who had been gazing at him dumbly, his mind filled with lust, rushed to unpack the soft white cotton boxers and T-shirt he had brought. The two of them appeared to dance a stately tango in their efforts to get Alex dressed without hurting him too badly. Alex, who was in too much pain to do more than just suffer Fox to dress him, gasped with every movement but did not seem to be in danger of losing consciousness again.

Finally Mulder had him dressed. He had bought Alex a silk shirt in a rich deep indigo and a pair of black slacks that draped over his slim hips and his tight buns. The feet got soft leather slip-ons. There was a casual silk jacket to complement the outfit.

Krycek surveyed the proceedings wordlessly, but when he was dressed, he fixed Mulder with a glare. "What do you think you're dressing me for? I'm a hit man, for God's sake, not a fucking gigolo." His indignation made Mulder grin.

"I'm so tired of seeing you in your rough trade gear. The only time I've seen you wearing anything but the denims, you were in the worst suit in the universe, and your tie made me want to hit you. I just wanted to see how you would look if you were dressed nicely, and now I have. I approve. You look gorgeous."

"Yeah, dressed to kill!" came the wry reply. "Get me out of here, Fox, please." Their eyes returned to the silent and unwanted visitor on the floor. Fox gave a deep sigh, and he turned to scoop Alex off the bed and transfer him to the chair, where after a few seconds he began ripping the various tubes and needles out of himself. Mulder dragged the unknown assailant over to the bed, where he quickly stripped him, putting him into the green gown that Alex had been wearing so recently. Finally, he hauled the dead man into the bed, where he tucked the bedclothes around him to hide the fact that this sleeper would never more awaken.

A quick search in the corridor outside revealed a wheelchair. Inserting Alex into the chair, Mulder, doing his best to look as if he were supposed to be there, made a beeline for the elevator, pushing Alex's chair, his few remaining belongings stuffed into a carrier bag and slung onto the back of the it. Alex, with a blanket tucked tidily around his legs, nursed Mulder's gun concealed in a fold of the fabric.

The elevator arrived, and a nurse got out, glancing casually at the two of them as she went. Mulder thrust Krycek into the cubicle and pushed the button. As the door closed, they both exhaled gustily, and a muffled chuckle from Alex told Mulder that the warped sense of humor had re-surfaced.

"Behave yourself! I want us to make it through tonight. I don't want any more corpses, especially not yours or mine." His speech was a little spoiled by the fact that he had an uncontrollable urge to hoot with laughter.

"Can I help it if people are just dying to meet me?" Came the less than sensitive response. Fox clipped him mildly on the back of his head, then mooched off, out of the hospital and over towards his car, his lover, for once quiet, keeping a watchful eye on any passers-by.

The roar of a departing jet filled the air as Mulder's rental car drew into the parking lot. He drew the Grand Am to a halt and turned off the engine.

"Well, here we are. I wish you could stay here with me. I've got another week of holiday before I have to go back." Fox gazed forlornly at Alex, who was staring grimly at his hands and did not look at him. Finally, after a grim pause, he raised his eyes to Mulder's. His look was blank, and his carefully bland expression cut Mulder through to the heart.

"You know I have to go. You know I can't let you go with me. You know I love you. What else can I possibly say?" Alex's voice was husky. He turned his eyes away again. "I've already told you, I would never ever hurt you or do anything to cause you harm. I promise that I'll come to you as soon as I can, but first, I have to get this business completed. I can't put your life at risk, baby!"

Mulder put out his hand to seize hold of Alex's chin and force his face around towards him. The look on his face made Mulder's heart stop. All the need and longing in the world were visible in the green eyes. Mulder knew right then that Alex would come back to him if he could. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth onto Alex's. The kiss was long and sweet. At length he drew back and brushed the hair away from Alex's forehead.

"When will you come home to me?" He was almost holding his breath as he asked the question, even though he knew Alex could not answer him.

"Baby, I'll be there as soon as I possibly can. I just don't want to get you killed. I've only just found you." Alex smiled a little as he touched Mulder's cheek, running his finger down to trace the full lower lip. "Fox, I have to go now. Thanks for the ticket. I'll pay you back somehow, and soon. Just one thing still bothers me. I think you'd better start working on a solution to it pretty soon." A gleam of humor showed in his eyes.

"Oh, what's that...and why do I have the feeling that I won't like it?" Fox nibbled at the finger that hovered beside his lips, wanting to spin out the time that was left. Not wanting to say goodbye quite yet.

"Well, it's occurred to me...er...how are you gonna explain me to Scully?" Alex grinned, leaned over stiffly to kiss Mulder on the corner of his mouth, and then the car door opened, and he was out of the car and gone, a slim form in dark silk disappearing into the terminal. Mulder sat forlornly, watching the bustle of the airport and praying that his Alex would stay safe and come home to him. Then with a sigh, he started the car engine. He still had a week's leave to finish.

Part 2: Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night

Category/Rated: PG-13

Summary: Alex has to tell someone that a miscarriage of justice has occurred, but how can he? He's dead.

Author's Notes: Thank you Frankie, and Fleur for reading and snorting

I've been here before. Whenever I come here it seems to be dark. The streets are always wet and grimy, and I invariably end up slinking around in some black, abandoned warehouse, in pursuit of a shady being who will kill me if I make a wrong move.

Why don't I move to Fort Lauderdale, cut the legs off my jeans, get myself a tan and go fishing? It would be so much easier to go with the flow instead of always swimming against the tide. Why don't I just hightail it to the airport and grab the next flight out to a sunspot. Maybe I could be in a whole different story...."Pirates of the Caribbean" perhaps? I'm not too hot with a sword any more now that I only have one arm, though. I used to be a great sabre fencer, and once in a while I would try an epee. Foils are boring. There's no risk to fencing with foils, but epees are different. Did you know that there are channels cut into an epee for the blood to rundown?

No matter. The reason why I'm here, the reason why I can't just go off to lie on the sand and drink strawberry daiquiris, the reason I'm putting my life on the line again? All reasons are the same. There's only one cause. When you get right down to it, it all adds up to one thing. His name is Fox Mulder.

I've been away for a few weeks. I haven't been able to contact Fox, until yesterday. I haven't dared to call him. I didn't want to get him killed. He lives on the edge, but I've been so far out over the void now for so long that I can walk on air like a cartoon character. I don't think Fox can do that! Once in a while I fall but the trick is not to look down. As long as you don't see the drop, you don't hurt yourself.

So, I finally got back to DC last night. I've been running for a long time now, but at last it seemed safe to come back here. I lost the tail in Colorado. Lost him somewhat permanently, too. He won't be coming up behind me and saying "Boo!" not unless he can find a spade under there. A new right eye would help him a lot, and there were a few bits of brain that parted company from the mother ship too, as I recall!. So, I get into DC last night and decide that I want to go call on my tovarich. I've missed him.

I'm making my circumspect way to his apartment, not wanting to get him into trouble-you know how it is- "desperate criminal found in the bed of Federal Agent". Not good for the career, not to mention the fact that his arch -enemy the Cigarette Smoking Man would probably kill us both. Anyway, I'm skulking in dark alleys, the way any good rat would, when I see him. I see the CSM. I'm wondering what he's doing in an area that's less than a block away from Mulder's apartment, so I wait, and I watch, and finally, when the evil old bastard stirs himself and turns to leave, I follow.

It takes a lot of skill to spot me when I'm tailing you. I've made my career from being silent but deadly. So I have to say it comes as no surprise to me when he doesn't see me, and then he leads me to an office, where I overhear him arranging a meeting with the Consortium. I figure that Fox would like to be in on this, so I take a little risk. I phone him.

Well, he's not at home, and I don't want to risk calling his cell-phone. Those things are not secure, I don't care what anyone says. I don't want to say too much or be betrayed into giving too much info over the phone, so I call his home and I leave my message. I say:

"Hey Mulder, this is Slasher, remember me? Long time no see. I thought we could get together tonight. Meet me outside the World Bank Office on 19th and F at 8:15, there's a bus shelter there. Our mutual friends are planning a party and I think it would be great to surprise them. There may even be someone with wacky tobaccy there if you get my drift. We're gonna have a blast Mulder. Bring something that packs a punch, and wear a little black number."

And now here I am, waiting in the bus shelter and he's late. Do you suppose he's stood me up? I'm going to have to go in on my own if he's not here in the next 15 minutes or the old bastard will get away and we'll have to start all over again.

It would be so good to get the foul smelling old prick off my back and out of our lives together. In about 20 minutes, I'm gonna be shoving a packet of Morleys up where the sun don't shine, and if he asks me real nice, I may not light them up first! Boy, where does the time go? Maybe he's out of town. Dumb of me, I should have checked but I was so excited to be here that it didn't occur to me. Looks like I'm going to have to go in and take care of things on my own. Same old story.

Who can you depend on if not yourself? Fox, this will be my gift to you. What a great Thanksgiving present it will be. I just can't wait to see you! No, dammit. You aren't coming, are you? Where are you? Maybe you decided it's too tough to carry on a relationship with an unscrupulous killing machine that's missing some integral parts anyway. I'd be thinking long and hard about it too, if I were you. Still I wish we'd never gotten together over there in Vancouver. You know what the Chinese say? "One glass of wine is better spilled." If I didn't know how love could be, I wouldn't be missing it so much right now. Anyway, it's time. Let's get Fox something really nice for Thanksgiving. Lets give him the whole damned Consortium, complete with their stooges, politicians and flunkies.

So, I'm inside. There wasn't much of a lock there. No security guards, no lookouts. These guys are either confident or careless. I bet they think nobody knows they exist. Wrong! Go directly to jail! Do not collect 200 dollars.

Hmmm. They aren't on the ground floor. The Cancerman said room 301 on the phone last night. I'm heading that way now. Where's the fanfare? The music? I guess I'm better off without.

So, there's a light on, but not much noise. I'm wondering what's going on in there. What are they waiting for? I don't see any movement, so I'm going to risk going in. The safety catch is off, and I'm about as alert as I've ever been.

Oh, Fuck!

"Ah, Mr. Krycek. So glad you could come. Do sit down. You'll see I have saved you a chair." I sit, what else to do? The smoke is curling up from one of his damned cigarettes, and I'm wishing that I knew why he's looking so smug when I'm pointing a fucking great automatic pistol at him.

I look around the room, and something in my bowels runs hot, then cold. Man, I need the bathroom! There are nine other people in here with us, and they are all sitting around the table with us, and they're all dead. They are fucking dead! Every single one of them has had his brains blown to kingdom come. Jeez, I hope I'm not gonna get stuck with the bill for cleaning the carpets.

"I'm very glad to see you here Mr. Krycek. You have caused me more than a little trouble over the past few months. I do so hate to leave things untidy. Your presence tonight has made me very happy. I'm holding a party in your honor as you can see." The man lights up yet another cigarette and smiles at me through the smoke. His skin is so well preserved, and the smile so forced it seems to me that the face will fall in half. Imagine that! The top of his head falls off! No such luck however. He keeps on talking.

"In a few minutes we'll be expecting another guest. One you may know. I have assembled these fine people around us especially for the two of you. I really think it's time that we paid attention to your little rebellion. It's a great shame you couldn't have carried out your orders, Mr. Krycek. There was a time when I had great hopes for you. However, you are somewhat of a problem now, and I'm afraid it's too late for you." He picked up a small tube from the table. Whatever it was, it shone with a deep black inner gleam like hematite. Maybe he was going to smoke it. Did I care? No, not so you would notice. Finally, I ask him the 6,400 dollar question.

"What are you talking about? Are you going to kill me?" I try to be nonchalant about it but can't help feeling that he's noticed the fact that my voice has gone up 3 octaves and I'm sweating like a pig.

"Oh yes. I'm very definitely going to kill you. I'm going to test out this new weapon. It's something our visitors have loaned us for trials, and from the specifications it should work very well on you. It's something of an honor you know. You will be the first subject of our new batch of tests."

Oh great. In a minute he'll let out a maniacal laugh and start telling me his secret plans to rule the world. Oh Fox, I would so much rather be curled up on the couch with you and a box of popcorn, watching reruns of the Rockford Files. Where are you? I think I need you to rescue me. My favorite ex-employer goes on the air again.

"I've prepared things very well for you. You are going to expire in one minute when I fire this device at you. Thirty seconds later, Fox Mulder will walk through that door and I will hand the device to him. He will be a little surprised, maybe, when I tell him it's an alien weapon, but not as surprised as when he finds you, lying dead with your gun in hand, having shot all these nice people. When the police arrive in three minutes time, they are going to find Mr. Mulder in possession of a murder weapon, and they are going to take him away and incarcerate him. Then, I'll go home and have a brandy before retiring for the night."

I open my mouth to say "Don't kill me, I really enjoyed working for you. I'd love to sign on again." But before I can open my mouth, he lifts the tube up and points it at me. There's a fizzing sound and the world starts spinning around. Then everything goes cloudy for a minute. I fall down, but get up again almost immediately, and head towards him to teach him the error of his ways. I grab hold of the device with my left hand while raising my right to punch out his lights.

I grab with my left hand. I pull back my left hand and look closely at it. I have a left hand. Something happened to me. I have two arms. I want to kiss the filthy old villain, but then I realize he isn't looking at me. He's looking at something behind me. He's looking at something on the floor and smiling. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth long enough to speak.

"Goodbye Mr. Krycek." I look to the floor and see what it is he's looking at.

Oh fuck! It's me. I think I'm dead.

Quickly, he puts the gun in my hand, holds it up and makes my finger pull the trigger. There's a very loud bang. I realize that he's used my hand to shoot his own arm, just above the elbow. I guess that forensics are going to find powder on my hand. He's a clever bastard. I hear footsteps, hurrying toward the room.

The door crashes open, and in he comes. Fox. My love. He didn't stand me up, but he's so late.

Not as late as me. I'm the late Alex Krycek. I wonder how he's going to take the news of my demise. I go to him and try to make him know I'm here. I yell at him, and put my hand on....gulp, through his shoulder.

Oh God, what can I do? I think I've messed up alarmingly, and for once, I'm not going to be able to get out of it.

CSM staggers to Fox, and extends his hand. He says "Take it. It's the only thing I had to defend myself with. It's yours now." Puzzled, Mulder takes the object and I see it's the alien ray gun or whatever. He's holding it, looking baffled, and I'm not surprised. He catches sight of me. I watch him sink to his knees and feel for my pulse. He can't find it.

I want to hold him but I can't. His face crumples and he slumps next to me and covers his face in his hands. Oh Fox. I'm here. Can't you tell?

There are more sounds coming from the door. In come about four cops. They are wearing kevlar vests and pointing huge artillery at my guy. He is not noticing anything. Tears are rolling down his cheeks, and I want to lick them off his cheeks: to tell him I'm here and everything's going to be all right.

Except that it won't and I can't.

CSM is offering them some kind of credentials and telling them how I shot everyone including him, and how Fox and I argued and how Fox killed me.

Fox is still out of it. They take him down and cuff him. He screams "No!" and then "Alex!" before they drag him out. I go with him. There doesn't seem to be any further point in staying with my body, it doesn't appear to want me any more.

I tag along behind Fox, and try to catch his eye. Once, just after they load him into the back of a police van I think I've got his attention. He looks at me, right at me. Then, he shudders and looks through me, before his shoulders start to shake, and the tears come again. His hands are cuffed behind his back and he can't hide the fact that he's crying this time.

My heart (if I still have one) aches for him. I don't know how I can help him. I love him and he's hurting. It suddenly dawns on me that I'm never going to be able to hold him again. I'm dead.

That means no more kisses, no waking up to feel him stroking my neck, no long hard body pressed against mine. Now there are two of us bawling our eyes out.

Oh Fox, I'd give anything I had for just the chance to tell you goodbye, and to let you know at last why I killed your father.

He's just lying there. I've tried and tried to make him see me, but he doesn't.

I've been all around the cop-shop trying to get people to see me. The only one I seemed to have any success with was the drunk in the holding cell three doors down from Mulder, and he screamed and fainted. Then he puked. I don't really want him to see me.

I've seen "Ghost". Patrick Swayze found other ghosts who helped him to learn what you do, but so far, I've seen only the living. I wonder why. I don't know how to help you Fox, and I'm sure I'm here because I have to help you. I can't think of any other reason for me to be left after I've bitten the big one.

I wonder if there really is a hell. I'm gonna find out one way or another aren't I? Maybe this is hell. I'm condemned to watch everything I love turn to shit, while I can't do anything to stop it. That's hell right there! I wasn't that bad though. Everything I did, I did for a reason. I was never evil, not the way that cigarette smoking bastard's evil.

Oh, Fox, how can I help you?

It's getting late. I'm beginning to ramble. Oh boy! Swayze went to look for a medium. I should maybe try that. There's the Stupendous Yappi I suppose, but I'll save him 'til I get really desperate! There's no point in staying here watching Fox. He's completely out of it at the moment.

I touch his face with my left hand. My left hand! He doesn't feel it, I don't feel it, but it's the thought that counts. I go outside to see what I can find. Out on the street, there's a misty quality to the night. There's enough rain in the air to make a halo around the moon. I take a deep breath, watch my chest moving and wonder what the hell it is that I'm breathing. It feels like air, but it's not the air of this night I see. It has no flavor, no scent of grass, no moisture, no clean chill to draw into my lungs.

I'm looking around, but there's nothing moving but a few scraps of paper, blown by the night breeze. I've got to do something, or I'll burst.

Think Alex, think!

I'll go and see Scully.

I walk. It seems as if I walk, though I don't make any sounds. This is all so weird it's like a dream. What can I do for you Fox? How can I get you out of this?

I suddenly get an idea. If I'm a ghost, how come I can't fly? I try for a minute, willing myself to rise up, and for a few seconds I actually do, but the second I quit concentrating, I sink back down to the earth.

Hmmm. Alex Krycek, earthbound spirit! What will become of me? I keep waiting for those black critters from "Ghost" to appear and drag me down, but there's nothing, not an angel from heaven, not a demon from the black beyond, only me.

Here's Scully's apartment building. It seems odd to call them apartments when they're all together the way they are! I'm beginning to bore myself with this philosophizing shit! All the lights are out, but that is probably because it's about 2:30am and everyone's sleeping. I think about Mulder, lying dry-eyed and stunned in his holding cell, and I want to run yelling through these halls screaming and banging on the doors. I've learned a thing or two in the past few hours though, and instead of standing around waiting for someone to open the door for me, I close my eyes and step in.

I was here once before. I remember the horror of watching as another redheaded girl died. I remember that I was going to kill, but that I did not. I remember going back to report what had happened, and being berated by the man who had sent me. I remember that it was to have been Scully who died that night, Dana, not Melissa. I still have no idea why. I wonder to myself as I have many times since why did I do it? How did I think it would help Fox?

Scully's apartment is quiet when I enter it. The living room is neat, and nothing is out of place. The kitchen is tidy too, with rows of herb jars and pretty plates hung on a rack. There are no dirty dishes. Dana, you are the perfect housekeeper! Come live with me, please. I've always wanted you!

I stick my head into her refrigerator and there are carefully packaged items, everything clean and labeled, nothing fattening here. Such discipline! I bet she likes to tie men up and get on top.

Holy shit! Maybe I'll get to check that out before too much longer.

Where is she? I seep through the closed door that leads to what just has to be her bedroom. There she is. I ooze up closer to look at this formidable little person in her vulnerability. If I could touch you, I could kill you right now Dana, but I won't. I need you. Fox needs you.

She's lying on her stomach. Her pajamas are green silk and her sheets are soft white cotton. Her hair fans out over the pillow like a flower's petals, and she looks so peaceful I'm touched. I want to stroke my finger down her cheek, and share her peace, but hey, not a chance. She's a beautiful lady, this prickly little partner of Mulder's. I stand and watch her, and feel quite moved. Her lips are full and red, her lashes curl onto her cheek, and contrast with the incredibly fine-grained white skin. She doesn't snore either. Please come live with me Dana.

I'm lost in a reverie that involves a sandwich, with me playing the ham, and Fox and Dana pressed one on either side, each trying in their own way to ensure that I stay with them. Dirty Alex! Dirty boy! You had Fox, and you lost him, now do what you came here for, and quit wasting time. I'm feeling a certain fullness in my groin and wondering if ghosts ever jerk themselves off?

I'm going to be finding that out sooner or later I guess.

I don't know what to do here. I'm confused. Sexual tension, misery and anger are a powerful cocktail. I want to pound something. I want to pound and pound on the cancerous old shit that put me in this position. I am so mad, I want to kill.

I look around and see the metal tray on her dresser. It holds all kinds of little stuff, beads and combs and knick-knacks. I stride over to it and without thinking I hurl it to the floor. It makes the mother and father of all crashes.

Holy Cow! I jump out of my ethereal skin at the sheer surprise of it. Beads and feminine accoutrements go all over the floor and Dana sits bolt upright yelling "Freeze!"

I cheer softly. You go girl! You didn't disappoint me even slightly. Fox may lose the odd gun but not you Dana, you sleep with yours under your pillow. I'm looking down the barrel of a gun that you would not even believe she could lift, let alone fire, and it's pointing very steadily. It's trained on me.

I move slightly and the gun follows me.

She sees me.

I fall to my knees, and at last, tears come to my eyes. The gun still points at me. She does not seem to realize just what my problem is. I push myself up, walk towards her and am rewarded by her yell.

"Don't move! Put your hands on your head and stand still. I will kill you if you come any closer."

"Scully, put down the gun, I need your help." Her eyes suddenly widen as she hears my voice. She's recognized me. Part of me is grateful for the fact that she can't do anything to actually hurt me! Her fingers are tightening on the trigger.

... "And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way"...

"Scully, I'm not here. I'm a ghost. Here, look." I reach forward and pass my hand through the end of her bed. The expression I'm rewarded with is priceless. I've never seen such a double take in my life. She is seriously shocked about this I can tell, but she does lower the gun and relax a little bit. I perch my ectoplasm on the side of her bed, and she moves away to the other side. I grin and am thinking of tormenting her a little by jumping into bed with her, when I remember, belatedly, why I am there.

Whilst these thoughts are running madly through my mind, she finally gets herself together.

"Krycek! What are you doing in my apartment? What's happened? Why would you imagine for even one minute that I might want to help you?"

I draw a deep breath and begin to tell her about the evening's events. I tell her about the sick fuck that set me up, and how I'd called Mulder to come and back me up. I fill her in about the arrest, and about my death. Then, I let her know that Mulder is in jail, and that he's catatonic. I don't tell her that Fox is (was) my life, and that I had planned to spend the rest of this night depriving him of sleep in the most arousing ways I could think of. I don't say that I love him, and that he's keeping me here beyond the grave. I finish up my synopsis and move straight to the editorial.

"Scully, Dana, we have to get him out of there. We have to help him. He didn't kill me, or any of the others. He's going to be indicted, and he'll go to the gas chamber for murder unless we can prove he didn't do it. We're the only ones who can do anything to save him."

Scully furrows those perfect eyebrows, and her smooth alabaster forehead shows a momentary frown. She is thinking and I don't really want to interfere with the process.

Firstly she's a clever lady, and she's got more ideas than any two other people I know.

Secondly, she once shot Mulder right in front of me and I haven't really ascertained just yet whether or not she can hurt me.

Thirdly, she's pretty when she frowns, and I want to watch her.

"So your telling me that you were set up by this... this shadowy government figure, and that Mulder has been arrested?" Bingo! She got it in one. She's not slow, this girl. I nod my assent.

"Yeah, the old bastard set us both up. He told the cops that I'd shot most of them, and that Mulder had helped. He gave Mulder the weapon and then told the cops he'd seen the murders, and that he was going to be next. If I could only hold a gun, he'd be right.

Walls and guards can't stop me now. The thing is, Scully, Mulder has just gone completely to pieces. We're going to have to do something creative to get him out of the pokey, because when I last saw him, he was not even capable of stirring his own coffee let alone finding a way to prove his own innocence. He just didn't care any more." I try to convey all the sincerity in the world. I need this amazing little person on my side. If she decides she will help, maybe, just maybe I'll see that evil old man get what he deserves and I won't have died in vain.

I hold my breath and wait for her to deliberate.

"Krycek, you say Mulder has had some kind of a breakdown? Why? What made him fall apart. Is it something to do with his sister?" Scully is on the wrong track and I break in:

"No, his sister was never mentioned. It isn't anything to do with her." I fall silent. Honestly, I don't mind Scully knowing about us, but it's not my story to tell any more. I'm not gonna be the one who has to live with it once she finds out, and really thinks it through. I'm sitting on the sidelines now. I mull that over, and all of a sudden it hits me. I mean, it really hits me, like a thump in the gut. Like Fox was here, and letting me know he didn't like me.

Holy shit, I'm dead. All done! Bye-bye! I'll never hold him again. I'll never wake up again and open my eyes to see him gazing at me with that expression on his face. I only ever got to experience it the once, and now it's gone forever beyond my reach. I bury my head in my hands and let a wave of desolation wash over me. Oh Fox.

Scully is watching me, but I can tell she doesn't understand.

"Krycek, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt for now. I can't for the life of me see what you have to gain by helping Mulder, but I'm willing to go along with you for the moment. However, the minute I find out that you're lying to me, believe me, all bets are off. The fact that you're dead won't save you from me. I'll have you exorcised. I'll find some way to make you wish you hadn't ever met me." Throwing back the sheet, she swings her legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. I flinch involuntarily as her shapely feet pass clean through my mid-section. She sits for a minute, before giving me the evil eye again.

"You may be dead, but you are not going to watch me getting changed. Would you mind going into the living room for a few minutes. I'll be with you as soon as I can." I slouch off through the wall, but turn after a moment to peek.

She wears pretty undies. She trusted me not to look. I cheated. Oh well, rats must be rats! I float in the general vicinity of her couch and wait for this irresistible force to get dressed and come help me rescue my lover.

My money's on our side.

It seems like forever, but when she emerges from her bedroom, she's done a first class job. She hasn't got a hair out of place, and she's dressed in her tailored best. Figure-hugging pants do their duty by a figure that's worth every squeeze it gets. Her feet are tucked into shiny leather boots and her blouse reveals just enough cleavage to seriously distract anyone who isn't dead yet.

Ahem, I'll amend that. I am seriously distracted. It must be the green silk pajamas that got to me, I'm not usually a push over for a pretty face.

She's pulling on a leather jacket and swinging her car keys at me. I blow her a kiss, and float over to her. I'm getting the hang of this locomotion now. If you concentrate on going somewhere, you just somehow seem to get there. It ain't fast, but it's ghostly all right, and if I'm gonna find a career haunting and rattling my chains at evil doers I can't put off learning just because Scully is pissed off at me.

We leave her apartment and head for her car. She fixes me with what I imagine to be the kind of look that makes strong men weep and cave in. I return the look with my own special bland stare. It's guaranteed to piss you off every time. I developed it when I was working with Mulder. It's a stand off.

After a minute, I see her lip twitch, and if you'll pardon the expression, I corpse. I start to laugh. Forgive me, I've been through a lot today, and it's made me a little crazy, but I laugh and laugh until I cry with laughter. She regards me disdainfully at first, but slowly, the ice queen sheds her snooty expression, and an answering grin appears on her face. If I could, I'd be leaning on her, slapping her back and drumming my heels, but as it is, I just kinda hover. In another minute, she's howling too, and between splutters, she's trying to tell me something.

"Krycek, how do you that? You're fading in and out like a really bad tracking system on a VCR!" She's warmed up for a minute, and I watch her with genuine enjoyment. She's got it all does this little woman. She's clever, beautiful, and much more ruthless than I am. She could kill you and walk away. She could shoot you, and then extract the bullet, bandage you up and tell you what an asshole you were for making it necessary.

If you don't believe me just ask Mulder. He's got holes up and down him like a fucking flute from Scully's tender ministrations.

Eventually, the hilarity dies down, and we begin to address the serious business of the night. Getting into Scully's car, we head out towards the police station where they are holding Fox. As we go, I give her a blow by blow account of what went down. She's thinking hard, and I'm trying to find a way forward for us both.

"Scully, I think we should split up. I'm going to go find the Cigarette Smoking Man and find out what's going down. There's nothing he can do to me now, and I want to find some way of exposing what he's doing. We'll go to the jail, and see what you can do for Mulder, but then I have to go find that bastard. We need to arrange a time and a place to meet. Are you going to tell Mulder that I'm here?"

She thinks for a minute: "Krycek, you're a real nuisance! Why can't you do things the way everyone else does? I don't know if I can admit to hobnobbing with a ghost or not. Don't push me, I'm not even sure if I'm awake or dreaming."

She gives me another grin, and I think I see the stars come out. "I can see a great use for your services if you're going to hang around with me! You're the perfect undercover agent!"

"Dr. Scully, you are a reprehensible young woman! Let's get this over with first then we can talk. I might just get carried aloft on a shaft of moonlight once we get Mulder out of this jam. I don't know why I'm still hanging around here. I would have thought I'd be in a warm dark place by now, with a bunch of demons slapping my feet with birch twigs and stuffing lighted matches under my toenails. Maybe I've been given a chance to redeem myself. I have no idea what's going to happen after that. Also, much as I hate to argue theology, I don't believe in God, but if I do find him, I'm going to blow the motherfucker right off his pearly throne for the stuff he's done to me. All I wanted was to be happy with the person I loved. I never had a chance. Look at the stuff that's happened to me. Talk about never giving a sucker an even break." OK, I know, I was pontificating. She's got that look in her eyes.

"Krycek, are you whining? I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to find some way of hurting you if you keep on!" I gulp, and pictures of her in black leather and chains, standing over me flow through my mind and warm me up considerably. Ghosts get horny too. Who knew? Maybe I should tell her. She looks as if she'd get a kick out of it. I'm beginning to like Scully.

We are drawing up at the cop-shop. She parks neatly and perfectly, just the way she does everything, and with little or no fuss, she hops out and locks up. I watch her take a deep breath and transform from a kitten into a lioness.

She starts forward and I tag along. Opening the door into the police station, we confront the extremely fat desk sergeant, who doesn't seem to be very wide-awake. He opens a rheumy eye and gives her a fishy stare. Dana hands it straight back to him. The temperature drops ten degrees right there, and the officer gets frost on his uniform jacket. He reluctantly wakes himself up, and gives her the benefit of his attention.

"Special Agent Scully, FBI!" She flashes her badge and leans in to intimidate the blubbery hulk behind the desk. He smiles in a sickly way, and smartens his ideas up.

"What can I do for you, Agent Scully?" She rolls her eyes, and asks to see Mulder. She gets her way of course and Lardo conducts her down into the basement where the holding cells are. We pass the drunken man who saw me earlier, but he's not in any fit state to see me now. He's lying on his back on the floor, blowing bubbles and grunting like a pig. I resolve never to drink too much again. Not that it's much of a sacrifice. OK, I further resolve to haunt Fox unless he stays off the sauce.

We progress down the corridor to the other cell and there he is. He hasn't moved much. His eyes are red, and his hair is a mess. He's got tear tracks on his face, his suit will never be the same again, and he's lying on his side, with that terrible flat, blank gaze. I look into his eyes, but he's not at home. Scully is taken aback by the appearance of her partner. She stands for a long moment surveying the wreck of a once proud FBI agent, and then she turns to me, obviously wanting to ask me something. The presence of Sergeant Congeniality inhibits her, and a spasm of frustration flickers across her face.

I meet her stare with one of my own, and reflect that she is going to be asking questions as soon as she can. Meanwhile, she is tugging at Mulder, trying to get him to take notice.

"Mulder! Come on Mulder. You have to pull yourself together if we're going to get you out of here." Mulder doesn't move, he just lies there and a tear runs down onto the striped ticking of the pillow on which he lies.

Scully shakes her head angrily, and then begins to put him through a complete medical examination. I watch her touching him gently, and wish it were yesterday. I want him so badly. I want to make him better again, but as usual, it's my fault and I can't help put things right. A thought chases that one. If I have my time over again, I'm going to be a doctor. You get to put your hands in amazing places and nobody thinks it strange. Nobody slaps your face.

You can also bet that nobody hacks your arm off with a red -hot machete either, it just isn't done in medical circles.

Scully has got him sitting up now, but he's still locked in his own silent world of misery. The duty cop has finally taken himself off outside. Quick as a flash, she whirls and fixes me with the gimlet stare. The one designed to make me confess to everything.

"Krycek, just what happened to him? He's in deep shock. I realize that he's been in the presence of murder victims today, but that shouldn't be affecting him this way. What aren't you telling me?" As she talks, Mulder looks up at last.

"He's dead, Scully." The words are so quietly spoken, I think I dreamed them, but Dana hears and I know he's back with us for now.

"Who's dead? Krycek? Yes, I know." Scully answers without really taking time out to examine the import of Mulder's anguished statement. I stay quiet, looking for a way to ease myself out of this conversation. It's Mulder's story to tell, but I don't know how she will react to the news that he and I were lovers.

She sits down next to Mulder and gathers him up in her arms, almost like a little boy. He sighs once and lays his head on her shoulder. I am touched. I can see love between them, and it's the kind of love I've never known personally - the kind of love that accepts, and doesn't pass judgment ever- just because. Maybe she won't be beating him up about me after all. I turn away. I'm hurting now, and who's going to clasp ol' ratghost to their bosom, answer me that?

I can tell you this ghost thing is not great. I feel so damned lonely. I can look, but I can't touch. Never to touch again! Poor Alex!

Mulder has been lying in Scully's arms, and she has been rocking him gently from side to side. Now, at last, he stirs and lifts his head up to look into her eyes. His own eyes are red, and the skin beneath them looks bruised. Scully sits straighter, and fixes me with her evil eye once more.

"Come on Krycek. Give What is it that I don't know here, that I need to know?" I spread my hands in the age-old gesture.

"Scully, there's nothing that you need to know. The only thing there is, is not my story to tell you, so you'd better ask Mulder. I think I need to go haunt the Cancer Man before dawn. Once he's out on the street I'll never find him, and I do really need to tail him if we're to get any kind of clues as to how to get Mulder out of this." I make for the outside wall of the cell. Funny, even though I've been walking through closed doors, it hasn't occurred to me to try walking through the walls. Duh! Scully is pretty fast though.

"Alex Krycek, if you go before I've finished with you, I'm going to be very annoyed." I turn back to her. She's got a way about her that's for sure. Mulder is looking at her as if she's gone totally bananas, and I guess he has good reason.

"Scully, Alex is dead. Who are you talking to?" He looks around wildly and I want to kiss him and make him all better.

"Mulder, I don't quite know how to tell you this, but Krycek is right here, and he's talking to me. I can see him, hear him, everything. I guess he just isn't visible to everyone. He's here though. He's the one who brought me tonight. He came and woke me up." Mulder is looking at her with a very odd expression on his face. I look around for something I can hurl at him, but everything is bolted down and besides, I don't seem to be able to throw things the way I managed to in Scully's apartment. Scully runs down a little like a clockwork mouse. Mulder is still looking at her. She drops her gaze and blushes. I blow her a kiss and she recovers enough to glare at me.

... "Rage, rage..."

"Don't ask stupid questions Mulder. I need to know why you're in here, and what we can do to get you out. What happened, Mulder? Krycek told me some of it, but he said I needed to ask you for the details. He seems to be wanting to get out of here right now, so I want the complete story please." I have been edging quietly towards the back wall but ostentatiously sink down to pseudo-sit cross-legged on the floor in an attitude of spuriously intense concentration. I hang on Fox's lips, but sadly, my dumb play is wasted on him.

Dana gives me that schoolmistress look again, and I subside. Damn, she's good.

Mulder has been sitting quietly for the last few minutes, but now he takes a breath and starts to talk in a monotone.

"Alex, he died. Scully, I saw them kill him." He stops talking and his head hangs down.

"Mulder, you hate Krycek. Why are you so upset about the death of a person you accused of having a moral dipstick two drops short of bone dry? Someone who you think killed your father? I don't understand."

Mulder lifts his head once more and regards her without speaking. Then with a sigh he slumps over, and the story begins to come out.

"When I went on holiday in April, I went to Vancouver." Scully nods as he speaks. "To cut a long story short, Alex and I met while we were there. I got to know him. I realized that he wasn't the man I had thought him." For a minute I think he's going to leave it at that, but then it all bursts out of him.

"Scully, I fell in love with him. We were only together for about 24 hours before he was shot. I had to get him away from danger, and he was coming back to me tonight. Scully, I lost him."

Scully sits, staring at Mulder as if a man holding a sock stuffed with lead has just whacked her on the back of the neck. Mulder pauses, and I watch in fascination as the tableau goes on and on. Finally, Mulder gives her a little shake and she appears to recover her senses.

She says nothing for a few minutes more and I think she's in a state of shock, but finally she opens her mouth.

"Mulder, are you telling me that you had a relationship with the man who killed your father?" Mulder nods dumbly.

"Don't you care that he...." Mulder interrupted:

"Killed my father? Of course I care, but I loved Alex. He swore that he'd never do anything to hurt me. He was going to tell me why it happened. Now it's too late." Scully regards him for a seriously long moment, before beginning to speak once more.

"OK Krycek. The one thing you can do for us right now is to tell us why in God's name you killed Mulder's father." I stand up. I want to tell her. I want Fox to know, but he can't see me or hear me, and I'm sure he's not going to believe Scully. All that stuff about 'I want to believe!' It's all bullshit you know!

He's very set in his ways sometimes.

"Scully, I killed the alien life-form that was inhabiting Bill Mulder's body. I did it to save Fox, who incidentally is the man I have loved for the past four years. He was just telling the creature that he believed to be his father that he had found out enough that he was to be killed. I saved his life. That's pretty much all I've been doing for the past few years. Protecting Fox, saving him from the consequences of his own rash actions, and trying to keep him safe even though he won't be careful. I died trying to help him, and I'm still trying to help him. Don't you dare try to put that down. It doesn't matter if you like me, or if you hate me, this is the soul of Alex Krycek right here doing the only thing it can. Loving Fox Mulder." I turn away then, and walk through the wall.

Let them talk it out any way they can. They don't need me for it, and I've got to find that old CSM before the day begins.

I read a poem. It went:

"It is in my blood, the black poison. I am the sinister glass in which the fury sees itself."

I know how they felt, the person who wrote that.

I'm on the street now, looking for the office where I last saw the Cigarette Smoker. He has to be found.

I am not staying there to hear them cutting me up and debating my intentions. Scully can tell Fox or not. One day, he'll know, I swear it, whether I tell him myself or not. I killed a monster, and I'm not ashamed.

Tonight I'll try once more to do what I have done for the past four years. I'll try with all my soul to protect my love and deliver him from evil.

I wander into the building and start to search for what I need. All is darkness. He certainly doesn't seem to live over the shop. I wish I'd followed him from the scene of the crime, instead of hanging around Mulder. I could have done so much more good for him.

It's easy to be wise after the event. Oh well. I'm searching for the office, the papers, everything that was here. It's not here now. What to do? I think of Scully's superior smile when I go back and tell her that I totally struck out. The hell I will, she will patronize me. I go through the building again. There must be something. There doesn't seem to be even so much as a packet of Morleys. Even the ashtrays have been emptied!

Shaking my head, I drift downwards. This is new. If I really concentrate, I can pass though the floor, and once through, I float down to the next level. Eventually I fetch up in the parking garage, and there I get my first break. I fix on the Cadillac in the corner. I'd know that car pretty much anywhere. I've chauffeured the Smoker in that car too many times not to recognize it right off.

Sliding into the front seat, I settle down to wait. No doubt if they've moved the office, someone will be coming for the car. Hey! There's my REM tape I couldn't find. I get a kick out of the lyrics while I'm waiting. Too bad I can't turn the thing on and play it. Hey, that's me in the corner. That's me in the spotlight, losing my religion. What a terrible thing for a newly dead person to be confessing!

Fox, I'm here, and I still believe in you. Something happens to me, and I seem to lose consciousness. Would you believe that ghosts sleep?

I'm awoken awakened by a sharp sound, as someone puts the key in the lock and opens the car door. I don't recognize him, but I can tell at a glance that he's packing some hardware. That's so sloppy. When I go hunting, nobody sees my weapons until it's too late, and I'm usually toting at least two guns, a couple of knives, a garrote, and several other things that would cause grievous bodily harm to anyone needing the treatment. I can also improvise. You wouldn't believe the mess I can make with a steel comb, or a bunch of keys.

Anyway, Mr. Dynamic here is getting into the car, and I quickly scoot over. I don't want him sitting on my knee. We haven't been formally introduced. He turns on the tape player, and on goes REM. Hey, just for that, you get to live an extra day.

He seems uneasy, and he keeps casting glances over at me. That's just what I need, a psychic thug, who won't drive me to meet my nemesis. I fade into the upholstery and he seems to relax. The car starts, and we pull away.

Outside, it's getting light. The birds are yelling their empty little heads off, and I wonder who it was that first got poetic about birdsong. To me, birds go good in pies. They aren't musical. Michael Stipes is musical. Live is musical. Birds are just very, very noisy. They are all creating a ruckus this morning. I'm watching from the back of the car, as we pull out of the downtown core and head out towards the suburbs. I'm watching intently because somehow I have to get back from here, and I can't just hotwire a car any more.

Finally, we end up at a large house with a sweeping driveway. We sweep up it in the approved manner! The Heavy-du-jour climbs out of the car and heads for a door around the side of the house. I don't. I walk in through the front entrance, admiring the large heavy oak door and the mellow gleam of wood paneled walls. This is a very nice house.

I head into the nearest room and find a table set for breakfast. There seems to be nobody around, so I take a seat, and settle down to wait for a few minutes.

I'm working on quite a serviceable fantasy, with lots of action from Dana, dressed in her lacy camisole and stockings. I'm trying to decide whether Fox gets to play with us both, or just with me, when there is noise from the hallway, and the door opens. A liveried servant enters, pushing a cart on which there are a number of covered dishes. For heaven's sake, this sort of thing is usually seen in pre-war British movies. My God, a butler, right here in the good old USA! He's laying things out on the table, when a maid flies in, bearing a teapot, which she deposits on the table prior to rushing off again. I almost follow. Her skirt is short and she's got one of those little white apron thingies on. I'm wondering if she's wearing a garter belt, and if so, whether or not I can fit her into my daydream without giving Fox a heart attack.

Something must be happening pretty soon I think, and I am right for a change. The door is pushed wide, and a number of men walk in. I gaze around me, and recognize a number of them. My heart is in my mouth as the last person who enters the room turns out to be my nemesis, my murderer. He saunters into the room with his cigarette unlit, but pauses theatrically to light it once inside the doorway.

As the men take seats around the table and begin their breakfast, I wander over to the Smoker, and attempt to look through the files he has brought in. When I grab them, and throw them into the air, they scatter like leaves, spreading all over floor and table indiscriminately. I glance through the turned up pages, looking for something I can use to clear Fox's name, but nothing seems to help.

Oh well, I have time. I have forever, if that's what it will take.

Wait a minute, I'm trying to decide why I could throw the papers this time, but couldn't move anything last night except for Scully's tray. It dawns on me that it might be due to sexual tension and I recall that when I had tossed Scully's tray to the floor, I had been thinking...umm...impure thoughts about green silk. I pause to recall the green silk in great detail.

I float over to the table, where a slightly amazed Smoker and his cronies are trying to gather all the papers together in a cohesive pile, and then, with deliberation, I grab the big teapot, raise it above my head, and hurl it onto the smoker. There are screams. I picture Fox, and then recall him in the hotel room the night we made our peace at last. This does it and I sweep everything from the table, I overturn the chairs, I hit men and send one hurtling through the window into the flowerbed outside.

I howl with fury and rip the pendant light fixture from the ceiling before tossing it outside. There are shrieks and screams. Those who still can, run away. Others lie on the floor and moan. The Smoker lies still. He is scalded, and his face is covered with blisters.

In retrospect, I reflect that maybe I should have waited a little while before I began to play at being the Incredible Hulk. I haven't really helped Fox, but on reflection, it was fun. The butler rushes into the room, and then grabs for the telephone. I hear him summoning the ambulance, the police, and the entire emergency service. He doesn't of course summon an exorcist, and to be honest, I don't know if it would help him.

I, poor spent force of nature that I am, sit lounging beside the Cancer Man, gloating about the state to which I have reduced him. At least I know where the Cancer Man is, I've seen his HQ, and when the ambulance comes I can get a ride back into town.

The ambulance gets me back into downtown much faster than my ride out into suburbia, but this time there's no music playing, and I don't get to sing along to REM. Instead I'm hearing the siren wailing and the blue light is flashing on the top of my chariot, urging the other vehicles to the side of the road.

I'm tempted to wave out the window, but it's a momentary whim. I know nobody will see me. Looking for a way to pass the time, I turn to the Smoking Man, who is looking a little unhealthy to my jaded eye. His color has always been grey, but now he's greenish tinged, and he does not breath easily.

His face has a number of raised blisters on it, along with the reddened patch where the tea hit him. I'm an artist, though I say it myself, and I admire my handiwork. Not bad for a ghost!

He's wheezing, and the paramedics are giving him oxygen so I guess he's in pretty bad shape. I amuse myself for a few minutes pinching the tube that leads from the oxygen cylinder but it soon palls, and I leave him alone. He isn't waking up right now anyway. I have a terrible thought. Supposing he joins me and we're here together for eternity.

That would be hell. Maybe that's going to be my fate. Worse than being alone! Please don't let it happen. I wasn't that bad a rat!

I think of the things I can't have any more. I think of the bite on my tongue of a really good brandy. I remember the wonderful pilaf with spiced lamb that my Mom used to make on holidays. I think of turkey, and bacon, and mushrooms. I think of the feel of silk on my skin, the feel of leather and the warmth of the sun on my back. I think of sex. I get no further.

I think of Fox, and the one night that we spent together. Don't send Cancer Man after me too, please. Isn't losing all of this enough of a punishment?

The ambulance is pulling into the A. and E. bay, and I leave it. Following the Smoker up to his eventual destination occupies a little time, but once I know where he is I don't feel the urge to stay. I float off, heading towards FBI Headquarters. I need to find Scully, to see whether she has managed to get Fox out of jail.

I'm travelling along an older street, there are vagrants sitting in doorways, and the stores are mean looking and old. I pause at one because the sign in the window is advertising a medium. I'm really fascinated by the idea of giving a medium the Krycek Test for Psychic Ability. Do I have time? I decide that half an hour is not going to make any difference to the way the world is treating me, and I leave the sidewalk in search of this medium.

The store looks dusty and I can't see anyone about. I proceed through the wall into the back where there is a small kitchen. A can of tomato soup seems to be the food of choice for the psychic amongst us. There is a pot on the stove, but the burner is turned off and the can lies patiently so I leave it behind. I guess I'm not going to be eating soup any more.

I am looking for signs of life when I hear footsteps, and turn to see what may be the oldest woman in the world coming down the stairs. She's very tiny, covered in wrinkles that aren't so much wrinkles as clefts in her skin. She's a little slow, but carries herself upright and in her eyes there is a sparkle. I stare at her, and it's fairly obvious that she sees me.

..."Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears"...

"Hello, is this the right place for the medium?" Silly question I know, but you have to start somewhere, and I really need to get some answers. The old lady smiles at me, and boy, does she have a smile!

She's not a beauty or anything, but her smile lights her up and I can see the soul shining through. I wish I could be like that. I'll trade pretty for spiritual now you know. I've never considered it before, but I'm learning, God, I'm learning stuff now.

"Well hello young man! What can I do for you?" Her voice is not old at all, it's like a flute, pure, sweet, quiet, musical. I want to hear her sing Ave Maria or something. She would make theatergoers weep.

I resist the urge to get sidetracked. I need answers too badly, so I leave the levity for once and cut straight to the chase.

"I need help Mrs....Ms..."

"Call me Dorothy young man, and how may I address you? She moves past me with deliberation, heading for the kitchen and the tomato soup. I follow her, trying (why, I can't imagine) to walk on the ground instead of doing the Casper impression I've been perfecting for the past 24 hours.

She watches my progress wryly, before turning to open the can.

"Alex, my name is Alex. I died yesterday evening, and I don't know why I'm stuck here, but I really need to get help to my friend. He's in jail. I want...." My speech runs down as I take in her amused expression.

"Alex, whatever made you think that you're dead? You aren't dead at all. I've seen enough dead men to know the difference by now." I stare at her in blank amazement. It does not compute. I and totally confused by her statement.

"Last night I was shot, and the police arrested my friend for my murder. He was framed, but I don't know how to get him off. I know he didn't kill me, but I'm not in much of a position to clear his name." She's laughing. I run down again and gape at her. I'm very good at gaping. I've had lots of practice!

"Alex, take it from me, you are not dead. The spirits of the dead don't look anything like those of the living. You have a silver thread connecting you to your body, I can see it clearly. My advice to you is to go back to it, and wake up. You've obviously had a wonderful sleep, but your dreams are just a little dark for my taste." She pours the soup into the pot on the stove and lights the burner. I'm thinking hard.

"Dorothy, I don't know where my body is. I don't know how to get back to it." I must sound pretty pathetic, because she shakes her head at me, and then starts with words in a language I don't understand. I feel a click and a pull, and I'm fading out of her kitchen. Everything is whirling around in front of me, grey and white. I'm afraid. I don't know what's happening and I hate that.

Things slow at last and I'm in a room, it's a scary place. Everywhere is stainless steel, and there is a table. A trolley beside the table holds something covered by a white paper sheet, and I know where this is now. I'm in the pathologist's lab at FBI Headquarters. Some days it just isn't worth coming back from the dead.

Now, if I want to "find myself" I'm going to have to find Scully, or if not Scully, someone else who can see the undead. There is a sound from behind me, and all of a sudden Scully is coming in, pulling her surgical gloves on. Oh no! I don't believe this!

Two men are with her, and as she directs them, they transfer the contents of the trolley to the table, and I don't think I have to look under the sheet to know who it is that's lying there. She snaps her gloves menacingly, and turns on her little tape recorder. Then she pulls back the sheet, and as the orderlies leave, she examines my body. I'm with her, and I'm examining it too.

"Subject is a well nourished Caucasian male of 73 inches tall, weighing around 170lbs. Left arm is missing from just above the elbow. I'm noting a scar..."

I start to get agitated at this point. Fuck! She's gonna cut me up. I'm still alive according to Dorothy, but if she does her famous "Y" incision and then saws the top off my head, it will be "Bye-bye Alex". As my level of agitation reaches high anxiety, she suddenly notices me. She has the grace to blush and puts down the scalpel. I shudder as she focuses on me.

"Alex, you came especially for my autopsy? How sweet!" She needs her little behind kicked, and I'm tempted, but I need her help. I can't antagonize her right now, she might cut off my dick or something, especially when she hears that I'm still alive. I know Mulder told her about us, and I can see her taking things into her own hands if I'm not careful.

"Scully," I am trying very hard to stop my voice from squeaking as I talk. "I need for you to listen to me before you start on my autopsy. On my way here, I stopped off to see a medium, and she told me I'm not dead. Do you understand me? I'm still alive after all."

She surveys my body, lying there on the stainless steel, with all the channels around it for blood to drain into, and her smile has the cutting edge of a diamond.

You look pretty dead to me." She says, reversing the scalpel and drawing the handle down the sole of my foot with what seems to me to be an unnecessarily vicious flick of her wrist. "See, no reflexes to speak of. Dead! I'm sure you're dead." She starts to turn me over, and then there's a pause, whilst I can hear the cogs turning within her feral little head.

"Hmmm, Krycek, there's something very strange here." She turns to me as she talks, and I see that she has put the scalpel down again. I try to summon up the energy to flick the thing under the bench and fail lamentably. Hot damn! Where's my libido when I need it most?

Scully beckons me and I approach, even though the sight of me lying like a worn out animal on the butchers slab gives me a feeling that, if I weren't in my astral state, I would call nausea. Hell, I'll call it nausea anyway.

"Look at this, Krycek. When a man dies, all the blood sinks to the bottom, and you get what's called lividity. The heart stops pumping the blood around, and it just sinks to rest. That makes the top of the body white and the bottom purple. Do you follow?" I nod, and I'm looking at my back now, trying to see what she's driving at.

"Well it seems that you aren't showing this kind of symptom. Also, to put it bluntly, you should be as stiff as a board by now, and you aren't. You're still quite flexible, so I think I should maybe hold off from ripping your face off until you're in a fit state to enjoy it." She hisses the last sentence at me, and I feel very fragile as you can imagine.

"Scully, how am I going to get back into my body? I've never done this before." I know, I sound pathetic, and I have no excuses. It's been a very long day already and it's only just beginning as far as I can tell.

"I don't know, just lie down in it or something. I'm a doctor dammit, not an astrologist!" She giggles a bit after she says this, and I give her a veiled look.

"OK, Bones!" She giggles again and I move to the silent Alex shape lying waiting, and lie down in the middle of it. I'm just about to sit up and tell her it's not working, I'm still a ghost, when there is a rushing sound, a flash of whiteness, and then a fall down into soft black flakes of nothingness.

There's someone calling my name. I turn away, but they won't shut up. I hiss at them to go away, and leave me alone but it keeps on going. There's too much noise! Why don't they shut up and let me sleep?

"Alex! Alex! Come on Alex, talk to me." A voice- I've heard the voice before. Why won't she go away?

"Don't owe you anything. Go 'way an' let me sleep." I can hear myself and I sound pathetic again. My voice gets no points at all for depth of tone, it sounds like I drank a bucket of raw spirit and smoked a pack of Sobranie without stopping for lunch. In my next incarnation I want to come back as a frog. I've had practice.

I am cold. I am so cold that I can't move, except I'm shivering and shaking violently. I don't know what's happening, but if I can't get warm in a minute, I'm going to shake myself apart.

The voice comes again, and this time I recognize it.

"For God's sake Dana, let me sleep, I don't feel good." I'm trying to be nice, and the woman is buzzing around me like a hive of wasps. I'll get her for it, see if I don't.

She shakes my shoulder, none too gently I might add, and I open an eye. She's looking really concerned, her doctor face gone and her Dana face showing. I'm stupidly pleased about this. Maybe she doesn't hate me after all. I lift my hand up to her, and she's tugging at me, trying to make me move. I'm at a serious disadvantage here, totally naked, clothes and prosthesis gone I know not where, cold as the grave, hopelessly disoriented and unable to move.

She throws a blanket over me, and starts to rub my feet and legs. If I were even slightly more alert I would be yelling and screaming at her to stop. I'm ticklish!

All of a sudden my body decides to take things into its own hands. I can't do anything to prevent the terrible cramps that wrack me, tensing me up like a bow, and making me scream out in agony. It goes on for so long I start to wish myself back on the astral plane, but then I feel the slick insult of a needle piercing flesh, and something hot, ahhh, burning! oozes into my shoulder muscle.

The orderlies are back, and this time they put me onto the gurney and wheel me out of there, still wracked and straining against cramps that come and go, but getting less incredibly painful each time they come.

"What did you do to me?" I recover enough to gasp out. She's running alongside the gurney, her doctor face returning as she follows.

"I gave you a shot of muscle relaxant. You looked as if you could do with it." I thank her wordlessly, and she smiles at me for a minute, a real smile, not the cut crystal of her 'let's hurt Ratboy" expression.

"Dana, I'll be especially good to you for that once I've recovered. You wait and see." She looks down at me, and her face hardens.

"The only thing you can do for me is leave Mulder out of your sordid little games." There's not too much I can say to this, especially as I am weak and vulnerable. I know she will hurt me if I get fresh so I stay quiet. Who said that I was a slow learner? It's not true, just whack me on the head a few times and I'll get the message right enough.

An ambulance is waiting outside the door and we hustle into it, where they wrap me in tin foil and Scully takes my temperature.

"I feel like a turkey that's just been made ready for the oven. Not only that, but you know that isn't the most effective place to take a temperature." Scully smacks me once with her sheaf of notes, before grabbing bundles of blankets and tucking them round me.

"They say that the way to warm someone up who's suffering from hypothermia is to strip off and get into bed with them. You have to transfer your body heat to them." Oh-oh! I've overstepped the mark this time. She leans in to menace me, seriously invading my personal body space.

"Krycek!" She hisses through gritted teeth "I don't personally care one iota whether you live, freeze to death, or spontaneously combust right there on your bed of pain. The only reason I am helping you at all is because my partner loves you. I don't know why he loves you, I always thought of him as a pretty good judge of character, but he does. However, he loves you with bits missing right now, and I'm sure he'll love you missing a few more. Do you want to try it out and see?" I quail, and fall silent. I'm not proud of it, but I'm a coward where she's concerned. Some people you just don't want to push.

A thought occurs to me.

"Where are we going?"

"Hmmm? Oh, Washington District Hospital. A. and E."

I grin to myself. The Smoker is going to be so pleased! I have to break this to Scully.

"Once we get there, just go take a look in room 10B Scully, you're going to be surprised and delighted." A thought suddenly occurs to me. "Hey, if I'm not dead, they have to let Mulder out of the pokey! Get him here, as fast as you can. You're gonna just love this, Scully, and he is gonna piss himself laughing."

Scully gives me one of those looks-you know the ones. I feel like she set fire to my ears. Then she reaches for her cell phone.

It's 6pm, and we're all together again. My clothes have been produced, though I still don't have my prosthesis. Fox is with us, grimy, crumpled and unshaven, but very, very upbeat. He smiles a lot and can't stop babbling. I'm thinking that Scully should be giving him a shot of her wonder juice too, but she doesn't seem to notice that he's completely off the wall. I haven't told Fox yet what we are going to find in room 10B. It's my little gift to him.

Together, the three of us stride mightily into the room where I just know the old bastard who started all this will be waiting. He is going to be so happy to see us! Happy to see me, especially!

He's sitting up in bed, and he's not smoking. He looks a little worse for wear, burns and blisters on his face. I did a great job. I pick up the chart at the end of his bed and pass it to Scully.

"Here babe, doctor stuff for you!" Scully grabs it, and studies it intently, I don't think she's noticed who the patient is yet. Mulder has though. He gives a great yell and hurls himself at the man in the bed.

"You evil old piece of excrement! I'm going to...." What he's going to do may never be known as Scully does her thing.

"Freeze Mulder! Leave him alone or I'll shoot you right now!" She's using her fierce voice, and he knows well enough that she means it. He subsides.

The two of them turn a little to look back at me, and all of a sudden I am on center stage, loving every minute of my 15 minutes fame.

"Hello, sir. I heard you were in hospital and though you would like a visit from your very favorite ex-employee. I felt it would make your day to hear that, contrary to popular opinion, I'm alive and kicking. You aren't looking so hot yourself, sir, but I'm sure Dr. Scully will be able to figure out what ails you."

His face is a picture. I wish I had a camera, so I could capture the scene for posterity. Mulder's belligerent, Scully's disdainful, I'm grinning like a Cheshire cat, and Cancerman, oh yeah! Cancerman's looking like he's seen a ghost.

We turn then and leave the room. The cops will be along in a few minutes to interview him, but that's OK, I've had my revenge. I've got my life back, and I'm feeling generous.

Scully drives me to the bus station where I pick up my bag from the lockers. I turn to her, and look steadily at her.

"Scully, I know you want to protect him, but I promise you this, on my life that I just got back, and which is more precious to me than you could possibly know, I will never hurt him. Not only that, but I will never allow him to be hurt by anyone else if I can protect him. Is that clear?" She's staring into space and I wonder if she's heard me at all. Then her eyes clear, and she looks at me with her intense gaze.

"Krycek, I don't know why but I'm inclined to believe you this time. You'd better take care though, because I'm going to be watching you." She smiles ever so slightly, and I take a chance. I lean down and grab her chin, turning it up and planting a kiss on her very red, very surprised lips.

"Thanks for your help. I was very alone there for a while. I'll repay you someday, you just see." Turning, I walk away without waiting to see her reaction. I figure that if she shoots me, I'd rather not know it's coming. I picture green silk pajamas and I smile to myself.

He's waiting for me, just as I cross the street towards his apartment building, and as I walk he falls into step beside me. He's been running, and he's wearing disreputable sweats with a toweling band around his head. I glance at him and quicken my pace. Together, we head for his front door, and as he unlocks it, I feel a rush of something very like tears.

We tumble through the door and he pushes it closed very firmly. Turning towards me, I see on his face that he's been longing for me, the way I've been longing for him. His arms go around me. I turn my face to him, and open my lips to his kiss, and I'm home at last.

Part 3: Good for the Soul

Category/Rated: NC-17

Summary: The missing sex scene from the end of "Do Not Go Gentle"

Noises in the night...I awaken with a start. I'm not used to sleeping in a bed. Not this bed. I've never really spent time in this bed, I usually fall asleep on the couch with the TV going.

I'm not used to company. I've been alone for a long time now, and I had gotten used to the fact that this is how it's always gonna be. They say that what you've never had you'll never miss and now I know how true that is. I never missed you at all before now.

So what was it that woke me? I don't sleep too well. Betrayal will do that to you, and I've been betrayed so many times. I know you'll be able to identify with that. How did I get here like this, with you?

I lie quiet for a moment and listen. I think you called out my name. That must be why I woke. Now as I come awake I hear a faint pattering of rain on the window. The fridge in the kitchen is doing its thing again. Maybe I should get it looked at. It's very old, and has trouble keeping it's cool - a bit like me I guess.

I can't hear anything else except for your breathing. You are beside me, pressed against me like a child against his mother, heating my flesh, my thoughts and my desires. You're breathing gently, regularly as you sleep, and I'm overwhelmed by the heat of you. You burn with vital flame, and even at rest you're the warmth of the summer sun to me. Without you I am cold, dark, lost in ice and dead.

I don't understand how this could possibly have happened. When did I suddenly find that I needed you, that I could no longer contemplate living without you? When was it that you suddenly became the meaning behind everything I am?

It seems as if yesterday I was whole, pursuing my own interests and feeling complete, and then, all of a sudden, without warning I became a half of something greater. Now, if you leave me I'll bleed.

I can see your dark hair in the half light, sweat making it stand up in spiky tufts, lending you a little boy innocence that I know is misleading. My assassin, you're so deadly, how can it not show on your face? Your beautiful eyes are veiled in sleep and the long dark lashes fan out on your cheeks. You look so comfortable. You sleep like a cat, completely at rest wherever you might be.

My throat develops a lump as I look at you. I want to touch you, to make you know that you're mine, right now, mine. I don't want to wake you, you're sleeping so gently, so perfectly, but I can't keep from bending forward to brush my lips over your temple, just where the dark hair fades to down, and your forehead begins.

You snuffle a little as I do this, and the crease across the top of your nose appears momentarily as you frown. My heart thumps painfully as I think I've woken you and spoiled your sleep, but slowly the worry lines fade from your face, and you nuzzle the pillow slightly as you recapture your dream.

I watch you, and hope that somewhere, somehow, I am a part of your dream. You look so self contained as you sleep on. How could it possibly be that you need me? What could I ever bring to you that you don't already have?

I know the answer. I know it. It's pain.

That's my gift to you. That's what you always take away from me, whatever I mean to offer. Tell me how to stop hurting you, my dark angel. Tell me how to make everything right again. I need to know how we can live happily ever after.

My body feels heavy and warm from our exertions. You wrecked me last night you know. When I yelled your name out loud it was a scream for mercy. Now I feel peaceful. Every part of me is singing with the joy of our love.

You do love me, don't you?

What am I saying? You must love me. You have to love me. Nobody could have endured everything that you have gone through for someone they just liked a little. Would you give your arm for someone just because it was your job?

Once more I lean forward and my lips hover over yours. I can feel the heat from them, your breath sweet on my cheek, and I can't resist any longer, I fall into them and my hand comes up of itself to cradle your jaw as I kiss you deeply. I turn my lips on your mouth, until I can open yours and let my tongue slide in to find you.

You come awake with a groan, and I can feel your breathing change. You kiss me back and I'm drowning in the smell of you, the sheer, musky perfume of you. The warmth and silkiness of your skin, the roughness of your cheek, and the shivering delight as your tongue strokes against mine makes my head reel and I hold you so tightly you gasp.

I can't let you go. I pull you so close I hear my joints creak a little, and still I want to be closer. I can understand the allure of the vampire myth. I want to drink your blood, eat your flesh, feel you part of me, flooding through my body. I want to crawl into your skin and be within you, warm for always. We kiss for a long time, and when we finally break apart we are gasping.

"I'm so sorry I woke you." Gleam of eyes, flash of teeth in the darkness.

"I'm not!" Husky voice murmuring so softly I have to strain to hear it. Growling I push you onto your back and roll to cover your body with mine. My mouth comes down to meet yours again, seeking to suck your breath away. I snake my tongue between your lips and my hands move to caress you, one to slide over the skin of your chest, down along your side and ending on the cheek of your behind. Of itself, it grasps and presses you into me, the other resting alongside your jaw, then slowly moving to the back of your neck to hold your head against the pressing of my mouth, my thumb caressing your ear. There's no escape for you tonight, my lover. You're mine, and I will have you. Slowly, you trace my spine, making me shiver with lust and I moan softly into your mouth.

What are you doing to me? I'm so horny! I haven't felt like this ever. Even Miss October 1979 did not produce so much excitement. I grind my pelvis into you, and feel your response as you push to meet me. We're both hard again. How can this possibly be after last night? I thought I'd never be able to move again, let alone fuck you, the way I want to, need to now. I move to close my hand on your penis and you whimper as you are caught in my grasp, unable to stop me.

Unwilling to stop me I hope.

I pull back, and see you smiling. Your eyes are closed and you have such a look on your face I think I'm going to die with love for you. Oh my Alex, I love you so much.

I reach up to grope along the headboard, looking for the Astroglide. In the faint light from the clock radio I can see your eyes open. and you smile at me as I fumble. I know you. You are my captive and I won't let you go.

My hands reject the Maalox and finally close on the lube. I grin down into your face, and brandish the bottle. Your fingers come up to trace my lips, and then you hold out your hand for me to put the moisture into. I tremble as I pour, and a great dollop goes onto your chest. The hiss of your sharp intake of breath as you feel the cold on your skin makes us both giggle. I don't ever remember laughing so much or so easily. I don't remember anyone sharing jokes with me without needing to explain and explain. All I need to do is meet your eyes and I can see you share the same sense of the ridiculous. I don't have to explain things to you my dark angel. You know how I think.

You are stroking the length of my cock, wetting it, sending splinters of shivery delight from the small of my back, through my groin to the backs of my knees. At this point I am glad we are lying down because I couldn't stand up if I tried. I scoop from the puddle of goo on your chest and reach down to feel between your legs, searching for the small opening there and liberally slathering it with lube. We're going to have such a wet spot in this bed before we've finished!

"Come on, spread for me." My voice sounds rusty with need and you lift up your head to kiss me, running your tongue over my lower lip, and from there across my chin and down my neck. Your eyes close again, and you sigh as you pull your legs up to accommodate me.

The tip of my penis is pushing, pushing into you and you bite your lower lip, rolling your head from side to side as I sink deeper and deeper into you. Finally, I am so far inside you that I feel your tension as a series of little pulses that may just push me over the edge before I even start to move.

I put my hands one on either side of your face, and hold you like that for a minute. My thumbs caress the corners of your mouth, and I kiss you deeply, then pull back again.

"Open your eyes, I want to see you come. I want you to watch me." Your eyes fly open again as you raise your mouth up to me. More kisses, and you gasp as I start to thrust into you. I'm going to lose it very soon, can't Keep this up for long. I feel for your cock, and pump it in rhythm with my thrusting.

"Oh Baby! Oh, God, I love you." You are velvet, and your voice drips like honey on my soul. I look into your eyes, and you shiver.

"Say it, say my name." I pause in my movements and you whimper, wriggling to try and re-start the ecstasy. "Come on Alex, I want to hear you say it."

"Fox! Oh God, Fox! You know it's you. It was always you. I love you Fox."

I keep still, and you pull on the back of my neck as I lie, your face still cradled in my hands. I resist your attempts to kiss me, waiting. I don't know what I'm waiting for.

You trace the side of my face with your index finger, then slip it between my lips. I wait still, feeling my orgasm subside slightly. I am just about to plunge hard into you again when you speak.

"I killed your father because he was alien, Fox. He'd been possessed by the aliens for a number of years. When you took everything that you knew to him that day, I realized that it was time for him to kill you, and I couldn't let you die. You see, when you didn't know anything, you weren't a threat to them. Once you began to find out about them, they knew you couldn't be controlled and you couldn't be silenced. His job was to make sure you would never compromise the Consortium. He hadn't been your father for a long time Fox. I had to do it."

Your voice, husky to begin with, catches on a sob. You close your eyes, and I see the look of hopeless resignation steal over your face. I have nothing to say. I am stunned. Staring at you in the half-light I feel my whole body suffused with love for you.

I see the terrible scar where once your left arm used to be. I see the pain on your face, and the scars on your body, many of them put there by me. I bend and kiss you again, feeling tears on your cheek, pausing to lick them away. I move within you, and you gasp.

Moving faster, pounding into you, I'm lost now and I can't stop, don't ever want to stop. You scream out my name again, and it's all perfect. All I've ever wanted, here, distilled in my arms tonight. Wet stickiness on my belly, ropes of semen pulsing from your cock as you arch back into the pillow, your hand tangled in the sheet. I'm gone feeling the bright heat of tingling sweet joy radiating out from my balls to pour myself into you. I collapse onto your chest, and lie, listening to our hearts pounding together.

At last, I lift my head to look at you again, and see you watching in the half-light, your face a shadowed mystery, your eyes gleaming from the darkness. I know you are waiting, and I know I can make it all better this time.

"Shhh, Alex, it's OK. It will always be OK. I love you." Your breath exhales on a shuddering sigh, and you clasp me convulsively. With our arms around each other, we sleep again at last.

Interlude: Clean-up and Dirty Mind

Category/Rated: PG-13

Summary: A writer has to get inspiration from somewhere.

Author's Notes: Thanks to Frankie. It's all her fault.

Dr. Ruthless sat at her computer and wondered what she should be getting on with. She had finished her stories, everyone was reconciled with anyone who mattered. Nobody was love-lorn and asking her for advice, and she had replied to every last item of e-mail. What to do? What to do?

She spun around in her chair, and surveyed her humble basement. Maybe she should actually do some cleaning up for a change. There were dust bunnies under the VCR and her prized copy of Xtro II had a coffee ring on the cover. She sighed and headed out to the kitchen to find the furniture polish and the vacuum cleaner.

Passing the computer, she clicked hopefully on "get mail" but nothing happened. The dialog box apologised. "Sorry, you have no mail".

"How the heck can I have no mail when I'm on 17 mailing lists? I don't understand." She pondered as she dusted and swept busily. A voice came from somewhere behind her.

"Sue...Sue!" and she turned to look, but there was nobody there.

"I really need to get a life. I'm going to take root in this basement if I'm not careful." Venomously she polished the coffee table. "Other people go out and shop, or lunch or whatever on their day off. Me, what do I do? I clean. Mrs. Mop! No excitement at all! I suppose the high spot of the day is going to be when the husband comes home and I serve him his dinner. Grrrrr!"

The floor was sparkling, the rugs were beaten, the cat had run for its life, and she was stacking dishes in the sink, prior to the final onslaught when a strong arm snaked around her waist, and a warm, raspy chin nuzzled the back of her neck. She jumped out of her skin!

Turning in mid leap, in much the same way cartoon characters manage it, she came face to face with *holy shit!* Alex Krycek. Her heart just about leapt into her mouth. What was going on?

"Sue..." coming from his gravelly, sexy voice, her name sounded like a caress. "I need you to help me out. You've been really mean to me."

"Whatever do you mean? I ended the story with you and Fox just about riding off into the sunset together, and Scully half way reconciled to your relationship. What more could you possibly want?" He snorted, and the arm tightened around her, as he pushed her up against the counter.

"You've gotta be kidding me! Every time you write about me you hurt me. You shot me, dammit, you even killed me in that last one, and OK, I know you relented and brought me back, but that hurt too, you know, and you gave Scully the chance to perform an unauthorised vasectomy on me. I want you to know that I suffered untold anguish over that. I may never be the same again." He surveyed her to see how his complaint was going over. She was flushed, with a smudge of something grubby on the end of her nose. She stood, trying very hard not to wriggle against the extremely insistant lower half of the delectable body she had been writing about for the past few months.

"Alex, I don't know what else you want. You want me to write you a holiday or something? Why don't you go home to Fox and be domestic. Isn't that your major goal in life?"

He laughed harshly.

"That's what I'm trying to get through to you! I really want him, but you left me high and dry on the fucking doorstep. I didn't even get a proper kiss when you faded us both out!" He looked very cute in his indignation, and she was wondering just how she was going to restrain herself from grabbing him and planting a really wet one on him.

She took a deep breath. It didn't work,and she considered a cold shower.

"Alex, let me get this straight. You can't actually get it on without I give you permission? Is that what you're saying?" His green eyes flashed and he moved in closer, squishing her firmly against the worktop and letting her feel that he was all there. Very much all there! She shuddered.

"You got it in one. I knew you were a really smart lady. Now if you can just see your way to sitting down and writing me some really hot sex I will be much obliged!" He stooped to kiss along her neck and around her left ear. She felt her knees growing weak and the rest of her getting more than a little warm. Clearing her throat, she fixed him with a stern glare.

"Alex, God, she loved saying that name! just what do you think you are doing to me?" He grinned a lazy, ratboy kind of grin and ran his tongue around her lips before replying.

"Oh, I'm just letting you see what it feels like to be left high and dry by someone. I'm going to get you so worked up, you'll just be begging me for it, and then....heheheh! Then, I'm going to go back to the doormat just inside Fox's apartment, where I've been standing hopefully for the last several days."

Her blood ran cold. Truly, he was as bad as people said he was. What a shame he was so beautiful. Maybe she should write in some disfigurements, so that she could get over him a bit, but he was so pretty! She couldn't do it!

"I don't see what's in it for me! If I write you your sexy vignette, you go off to play with Mulder, and if I don't you're going to torment me. I lose whatever I do." She whimpered a little in the back of her throat, wishing that she could play with him the way he deserved. Pushing him away, she started to speak, then started again, trying to get her voice to go back down to it's usual contralto, instead of the Minnie Mouse squeak she had just produced.

He ground his pelvis into hers once more before backing off a little way, shit-eating grin still plastered across his gorgeous face.

"Besides, what about the short story I wrote for you and Fox the other week. It was supposed to happen straight after the main story finished. Surely that was steamy enough even for you!" Poking her finger into the chest of her favourite character, she pushed past him, heading very determinedly for the cold shower.

"Yeah, that was great, fantastic, but it was 10 days ago now, and I need more! I'm a creature of large appetites honey, and I need to pander to them. Come on now, you have to be nice to me for a change!" So saying, he grabbed for her again, and his mouth came down on hers, muffling the words that had been bubbling up a second before. As she sank into the kiss, his tongue ran the inside of her mouth, and her whole body turned to mush. He slowly released her, and stood grinning at the wreckage.

"So, what about it, honey?"

"Yes, Alex, whatever you say..."

and so, a story was born...

Part 4: Storm in a B-Cup

Category/Rated: NC-17

Spoilers: The Red and The Black, Terma.

Summary: A touching tale of a misunderstanding, and an elevator...

Author's Notes: Undying thanks to Frankie for giving me the list, looking after the story and then sharing it.

Beta: Thanks go to Frankie and Orithain, for beta of the best kind. Any mistakes that still remain are my own and should not be blamed on them.

Items: for inclusion

Church - check

Skinner - check

Marita's black lacy bra - check

Frank Sinatra - check

Beef Wellington - check

M/K -check, check, check!

The church was old, with high vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows, and carved wooden ornamentation curving in rich scrolls around an old fashioned wood screen. The choir was singing their heart out and candles flickered around the nave as the midnight service progressed. Assistant Director Skinner raised his voice in song. He had a fractured baritone that burst forth in a manner that had people for ten rows in each direction turning to look at him in disbelief. Oblivious, he sang on.

At the end of the row, in an attempt to disassociate himself from the vocal disaster in their midst, Alex Krycek searched manfully for a way out. He had been pressed into service, as had the other members of the party, by Special Agent Dana Scully, who had thought it might be nice to attend the service before experiencing the more secular delights of the office party. So far, the effects of all this heavenly celebration on the souls of the participants were mixed. Fox Mulder was unashamedly asleep. He lounged in the pew, head back, mouth open, and from time to time he snored. Alex would have liked to sleep too, but the noise was immense, and rather than finding God in the singing of the choir, he was discovering a headache. He tried to keep the hunted expression off his face and wished in vain that he had smuggled in his Walkman.

Skinner, as has been detailed, was having a fine old time. He had murdered "Away in a Manger" with great gusto and was now starting in on "Silent Night, Holy Night". Scully, whose idea it had been to attend the service, was currently looking a little hunted as she surveyed her companions. She hoped that she could get them into the Christmas spirit somehow. It spoiled things when they behaved like this.

Look at Mulder there. If he rolls over and sticks his thumb in his mouth, I'm going to knock him off hisseat!

Watching Alex, she wondered just how much longer he would cope before he cut and run. It afforded her grim amusement to watch him wince each time Skinner hit a high note.

What a good job I made sure to keep Krycek and Mulder apart.

She had been sure that letting them sit together would be a recipe for disaster, so she had separated them. Mulder was annoying, but Alex, who she had been sure would cause trouble, was (for Alex) behaving himself perfectly, although he was looking somewhat haggard. The service was drawing to a close now, and the minister was saying a few words of benediction. Scully extended her elegantly booted foot and toed Mulder. Nothing happened at first, but as she poked him once more with her foot, he exploded in a blur of perfectly co-ordinated action, rising in a fluid motion, dropping to a crouch, two hands holding his gun in the manner approved by Quantico.

"Freeze, FBI!" he yelled. People squealed and moved away. Skinner stopped singing, and Krycek started laughing. Mulder, who by this time had realized that his performance was slightly inappropriate, lowered his gun and began to shrink in an attempt to become invisible. It failed. All about him in the packed church, folks were pointing and giggling. Scully dropped her head into her two hands, and Alex, purple faced with explosive merriment, sat down in the pew and held his sides as he laughed.

Skinner began to sing once more, but mercifully, with the final bars of "Oh Come all ye Faithful", the service came to an end. As the congregation began to file out of the church, Scully shook her head.

It should have been a pleasant hour at the start of a great Christmas Eve. She ought to have known that Mulder would do something to make it different. He was looking furtive now, and she knew that he would make himself scarce once they were out of the church if given the opportunity. She grabbed his arm as they moved out of the pew towards the door, where the minister was dispensing Christmas good wishes to the last straggling worshippers as they departed.

"Ah, Miss Scully. So nice to see you and your..er...friends." The minister was a large, shiny man, with a round face that beamed with transparent good nature. His hair was a colorless halo around his bald, shiny head, and the vestments he still wore were ornate and gleamed in the light of the many candles. Scully began to introduce her companions to him. Mulder was monosyllabic, encouraging no intimacies whatsoever. Skinner was cheerful, pumping the other man's hand enthusiastically, and commenting on how much he had enjoyed the singing. Alex, last in line, offered his right hand with a smile and then with great theatrical timing, pressed a black lacy brassiere into the minister's still outstretched hand.

The ride back to HQ was full of meaningful silences. Scully was quiet, and although she hadn't yet said anything to Alex, it was obviously only a matter of time. Skinner was singing happily as he drove, and Mulder was surveying his beloved with a wondering gaze. Alex, sprawled back against the seat, appeared to be totally relaxed, thumb tucked into the waistband of his jeans, and booted leg flung high across his knee as he lounged.

"Alex, where on earth did you get it?" Mulder had watched in awe as Krycek had bestowed his gift to the minister. His mouth twitched in amusement as he surveyed his companions.

Alex gave his lover a bland look.

"I haven't worn this jacket for a while; it was still in the pocket. Funny how things take you back, isn't it?" His face was a study in deadpan attitude. "Last time I wore it, I was on a ship..."

Thick lashes veiled his sideways glance at Mulder. Mulder caught it, and his smile faded. There was still a lot about his Alex that he didn't know.

"Who does it belong to?" His question was out before he could bite it back. He wasn't sure that he really wanted to know. He was about to say something else when Scully interrupted.

"Mulder, don't encourage him. He's bad enough without that." She had been sitting quietly, debating the value of chewing Mulder and Krycek out, and had come to the conclusion that it was probably not worth her while. Having made a mental note to bake them some ex-lax cookies or something, she was now attempting to damp down any gloating that might occur, at least within her hearing.

Mulder was thinking hard. The more he thought about it, the uneasier he became. He had to know. Turning to face Alex, he could see that for all his apparently casual posture, the other man was wound tight, poised like a steel spring, ready for fight or flight.

"Who did you say it belonged to?" There was an edge now to Mulder's voice, and Alex stirred uneasily, his eyes flickering to Mulder's face and away.

"I didn't. I hate to kiss and tell, Mulder. I was raised to be a gentleman about these things." The sneer was unmistakable, and Mulder felt a cold punch to his gut as he digested it. He was confused. One minute he had been sharing in an easy camaraderie, and the next he felt as if he had been bruised. He looked at Alex, still sitting apparently unmoved by his last comment. The green eyes flickered back to his face and away again. Mulder swallowed his retort, not wanting to get into an argument in front of his other friends.

Once back in the office, Scully had gotten the decorations together and was ordering the other agents around as she effected the transformation of the general office into a party venue. Someone had brought a portable stereo, and for the last half-hour Christmas music had been pouring from it. All at once the CD had been changed, and now the mellow sound of Frank Sinatra's "Strangers in the Night" could be heard. Mulder started to sing it softly under his breath, looking around as he did so. He had been stringing tinsel around the tree, waiting for his opportunity to fade out and go in search of Alex. Glancing over his shoulder, he observed his delinquent love vanishing out of the door. Dropping his glittering burden, he took off after him. Scully saw him leave and was about to call him back when Skinner put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Let them go, Agent Scully, let them go. They need to work that out really fast or their Christmas will be totally shot."

Scully smiled up at Skinner. She had been thinking the same thing but did not want to see a battle between Mulder and Krycek that would ruin the party. She was this year's organizer, and she wanted to have fun after all the work she had put in on the planning of it.

"You think they'll get over it quickly? I do hope they don't have a spat right now." Her blue eyes reflected fondness for her partner, and Skinner patted the arm he had been holding.

"I'm sure it will be OK. Those two love each other, but they still have a lot of baggage to clear. It's not easy being in the line of fire sometimes."

Scully looked up at Skinner and thought anew that he was one of the kindest men she had met. She patted his cheek and smiled. "It's OK, I'll leave them to it. I won't interfere unless they actually start having a fistfight amongst the potluck! Now where do you suppose we should lay out the food?" Turning away, she began to clear desks of their paraphernalia, prior to creating a buffet.

Mulder saw the door closing at the other end of the corridor as he hurtled in pursuit of Krycek. He ran the length of the passageway to crash through just as Alex was summoning the elevator. Putting on a burst of speed, he caught the elevator just as the doors were closing. Alex stood, white-faced and determined, his finger still on the button. Glancing at the floor he had chosen, Mulder saw he was headed for the parking garage and that he had been intending to leave.

He fought his way clear of the doors and into the elevator.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? What are you doing?" His voice sounded furious, and Alex moved uneasily back against the wall.

"It's just a bad idea, Mulder. It's over. Go back to your party. Go back to Scully. You'll be fine in the morning." Alex's face still held the bland, sneering expression he had seen earlier in the car. Mulder shook his head, trying to decide how to proceed. He suddenly realized that he was fighting for his happiness.

"Alex, please... " His voice cracked as he held out his hand and stepped towards his lover. Alex moved suddenly, whipping out a pistol and shoving it into Mulder's neck as the other man moved towards him.

"I told you, it's over. Leave me alone, Agent Mulder." The words were spat out viciously. Mulder stood bewildered, not able to take in what was happening to him.

The elevator doors opened, and a chilly breeze blew in from the parking facility. Everything was quiet save for the sound of distant dripping somewhere in the gloom. Mulder stood in Alex's way.

"I won't let you do this, Alex. I don't know what it's all about, but you can't just leave me. You can't just vanish off out of my life now that I care about you."

Krycek stood taut, his gun unwavering. His face was now set in a grimace. His teeth were bared, and his eyes were hard, glittering marbles. Mulder shivered under his cold scrutiny.

"Alex! Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong? Please?"

"Let me past, Mulder. Let me through right now or I'll hurt you." Alex moved to pass Mulder and leave the elevator, but Mulder blocked his exit. The door closed.

"You're hurting me now. What's the difference?"

Alex shook his head. "Oh, no, no! You're not going to lay a guilt trip on me. Just chalk it up to experience and move on, why don't you?" His voice was harsh and strained. Mulder felt a cold flood of fear trickle like icy water down his spine. He cast about for something he could do or say to stop this from happening. He felt as if his life were unraveling before his eyes.

He put up his hand and began to unfasten his tie. Alex had jabbed the "door open" button on the control panel, and the door was letting in that cold blast of air again. Mulder dropped his tie onto the floor and slid out of his jacket. His hands flew to his collar, and he began doggedly to unfasten the buttons on his shirt. Krycek watched him for a moment.

"What are you doing? You'll catch cold." Alex's husky voice sounded cracked and strained. The elevator doors closed again. Mulder unfastened the cuffs of his shirt, and it followed his tie and jacket to the floor. He began to lift the hem of his white T-shirt. "Oh, fuck, Mulder. Don't do this, please." Mulder, listening avidly to Krycek's voice, heard the pain in it and hugged it to him. He began to unfasten his belt and opened the fly of his trousers, eyes fixed on his lover. He smiled, knife pain lancing his heart as he spoke. He put everything he was feeling into his next words.

"I love you, Alex." The zipper dropped, and his pants slipped to the ground, pooling around his ankles. Mulder began to slip off his boxers.

"Jesus, Fox! Let me go! I don't want to hurt like this." Alex licked his lips nervously as Mulder stepped out of his clothes, slipping off shoes and socks as he did. Standing before him quite naked, Mulder began to stroke his own skin. His hands passed over his arms, moving to his chest and down his flanks. He stroked his own thighs, then moved up to pinch a nipple. His eyes were fixed unwaveringly on his lover, and he drank in every little partially hidden emotion he could see crossing Alex's face.

"Alex, I love you." The words, repeated like a litany, hung in the air between the two of them.

Mulder's hands moved to his penis, already thickening as he stood, displaying himself to this man that he couldn't bear to lose. He licked his hand and slid it down to grasp hold of his cock, shivering slightly as the door opened once more, goose flesh starting on his arms and legs.

"This is yours, Alex, yours. There's nobody else in the whole of the world that I need the way I need you." His cock was now standing tall, and Alex swallowed, then moved to put his finger over the "stop" button on the elevator.

Mulder leaned against the door, his hand sliding, jerking up and down over his hardness as he stroked his own body. He opened his thighs, one hand moving between them to press behind his balls, searching for the gland that lay under the perineum, pressing it and groaning when he felt the heated rush of sensation.

"God, Alex, you do this so much better. I would so much rather it was you. I love you." The tip of his cock was now shiny with fluid, and his hand, still clasping the shaft, was moving faster now. Alex's eyes were wide, and the pupils were growing larger and larger as he watched Mulder's shameless display. He made a little sound that was midway between a sob and a moan, and his head turned from side to side as he appeared to look for a way out of the corner.

"Fox, I... " He returned his gaze to Mulder's dancing hands, and then, like a sleepwalker, he stumbled the couple of paces to where Mulder stood, dropped to his knees, and his hand went to Mulder's hip. Alex laid his head against Mulder's thigh and pressed his face against the standing man's penis. Mulder's hands moved to stroke Alex's hair very gently.

"I love you, Alex. I really do." Alex groaned and moved to close his mouth over the penis that was bobbing beside his cheek. His mouth was liquid fire, his tongue playing teasing music on the head of his cock, running around the ridge of it and dragging him closer and closer to orgasm with every moist slurp. Pushing his hand between Mulder's legs, Alex felt for his anus and circled the tight, puckered opening with his finger, gradually dipping in until he could hook it forward to massage his prostate gland. Mulder threw back his head and screamed as Alex sucked hard on his shaft. His legs grew wobbly and he felt his balls contract. He jerked his hips into Alex, plunging into his mouth as he arched his back and the tickling electric feel of his orgasm pulsed through him. Mulder gasped, and the elevator started to move upwards.

"Oh, shit!" There was a flurry of activity as Alex tried to stop the elevator, and Mulder tried to put on his pants. He had his boxers on, and was hopping comically around with one leg in and one leg out of his pants when the doors opened, and Assistant Director Skinner entered the elevator.

"Good evening boys, I see you're having fun!" Skinner grinned but said nothing more as he pushed the button to start the elevator down towards the basement again. Mulder shrugged to himself and sat down on the floor to put on his shoes and socks. Alex stood quietly, face a pale mask, waiting patiently for them to be alone again. As the elevator opened its doors once more on the drafty basement, Skinner felt for his car keys.

"I'll be back in about a half hour. I have to go home to get the Beef Wellington I made for the potluck. I had it baking on a timer, so it will just be ready about now. If you guys are going to play in the elevator for a while, may I remind you that public nudity is an arrestable offense. Agent Mulder, your shirt is on inside out. Krycek, you really need to wipe your chin." They could hear him laughing as he made his way over to his car.

Without any further conversation, the two men watched him out of sight and then wordlessly set the elevator to take them up one floor. First Alex, then Mulder emerged through the doors and headed for the door to the X-Files office. Mulder paused to lock the door behind him, and then, grabbing Alex by the shoulder, he threw him up against the wall, leaning in to hold him there with the weight of his body.

"What was all that about down there? You nearly killed me. What do you think you're doing?" His voice was quiet, but his words were sharp, and his face was as angry as Alex had ever seen it. Alex gulped.

"Fox, I can't stay with you. I'm no good for you, baby. The things I've done! You're better off to just leave me. Find someone else who can make you happy. With me, you're always going to be wondering. You're never going to trust me... " His voice trailed off as he saw the expression on Mulder's face. Mulder took him by the ears, and his mouth descended on Alex, kissing him hard, his tongue forcing its way inside Alex's mouth to tease and worry at him. Alex resisted for a second only, and then melted into that kiss, returning it, his hand tugging at Mulder's still inside-out shirt until he had made a space to slip his hand up under it. He stroked Mulder's back as they kissed. His groin thrust against Mulder's as he leaned on him, still holding him up against the wall. Fox reached with one hand down to feel for Alex's fly buttons, his mouth still working on Alex as he kissed, and licked, and nuzzled.

Finally, he drew his head away, drinking in Alex's face as his head lay cradled in the crook of his elbow, eyes closed, mouth red and lips puffy from the harshness of his kiss.

"You know I don't care about what you did before. I only care about now, Alex. Why were you suddenly so worried?" He pressed a tender little line of kisses from the corner of Alex's mouth up to his eye, gently tracing along his lashes with his tongue tip. Alex's eyes fluttered open, and he licked his lips before starting to speak.

"It was on the ship. After we docked in New York, I contacted the Consortium. I had brought a specimen of the virus back along with the antidote. Marita came to see me, and she and I... " Alex went silent, searching Mulder's face for clues as to how he was receiving this news. Mulder appeared grim.

"You mean you fucked her? You fucked Marita?"

Alex blushed, wincing at the words. "Yes. We went to bed, and then she cold cocked me and stole my ticket out. She kidnapped the virus specimen. I haven't worn the jacket since then, and I found the bra in there today. It was funny because I haven't thought about her for a long time. When I suddenly remembered, I felt sick." He looked at Fox, his lashes tangled and damp. "Now you'll go. You'll say you don't mind, but you do. You'll leave me."

Mulder was still looking grim. His hand came up to hold Alex by the throat, long clever fingers pressing against his Adam's apple, making the blood sing in Alex's ears.

"You stupid piece of shit! You prick! If you ever put me through that again, for whatever reason, I'll kill you. How dare you scare me like that? How dare you?" His voice had started quietly, but by the time he reached the end of his speech, he was bellowing at the top of his lungs. Alex, still being throttled, could not move.

Mulder suddenly released Alex, then grabbed his lapels and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. Alex moaned, and the two of them slowly sank down to the floor. Mulder, who was still angry, horny and desperately relieved all at the same time, tore at Alex's belt, reaching in to grab his cock and pump it fiercely. Alex moaned into Fox's mouth and threw back his head, offering his throat to Mulder as if he were a wolf. Like a wolf, Mulder received it, and bit gently at it, before moving down to lick at the head of the other man's cock. Finally, he closed his lips over it and sucked it into his mouth as far as he could, angling his head back to take in the last little millimeter, his tongue swirling along the vein on the back of it, as he sucked. Alex bit the back of his hand to prevent himself from screaming out loud as Mulder's rough technique made the warm tingles of his orgasm gather, then as he felt everything tighten, he buried his hand into the other man's hair, dragging his head down. Fox felt Alex's penis throb, and then the sharp salty taste of spurting semen filled his mouth as he felt his love buck under his mouth. Alex cried out wordlessly as he came, finally falling back, gasping.

Mulder released him and pulled up to embrace Alex, kissing him tenderly, and teasing him with the tongue that still retained the taste of Alex's ejaculate. Alex lost himself in that kiss, trying to eradicate his sense of self. He wanted to forget everything that had gone before and start again.

Mulder finally pulled back to look at his lover. Alex lay, head pillowed on Fox's arm, face alight with adoration as he looked up at the other man. Mulder smiled down at him tenderly.

"Wanna hear something really sick?"

Alex cocked one eyebrow at him inquiringly.

"I slept with her too."

Alex's jaw dropped. Then he started to laugh. His chuckles grew and grew until the tears were starting in his eyes, and he was holding his sides. Fox, who was a little astonished at his reaction, waited patiently through the outburst, a small grin on his face.

"Oh, Fox!" Alex gasped, when he could finally talk "Did you get some of her underwear too?" Mulder aimed a swat at Alex's butt.

"Dumb fuck!" he growled. "Come on, we're going to have to get ourselves straightened out here before we go and hit this party. Anyone would think we've been groveling all over the floor."

"Oh Christ, Fox, do we have to go? Can't we just go home and go to bed? I've had enough carols and shit to last me a lifetime." Alex sounded plaintive.

Mulder got to his knees and extended a hand to pull his partner up before starting to brush his suit down as best as he could.

"Not on your life. Have you forgotten? Skinner's bringing Beef Wellington. I wouldn't miss that for the world."

Part 5: The Devil Makes Work...

Fandom: OaT/X-Files X-Over, for those who need more than one Nick per story line.

Category/Rated: PG-13

Summary: Alex is in trouble, again, and Mulder must go it alone in his attempts to find him,until a shadowy Government Agency gets in on the act.

Beta: Thank you, thank you, thank you to my tireless beta goddesses, Orithain, Paula and Frankie, all of whom are totally necessary for my continued well being. Thanks also to Nicole and Aries for their immoral support.

Alex:

"I hate the fucking winter!" Nobody was listening because the only other people in the room had heard him say the same thing six times in the past half-hour. Alex Krycek, tired of talking to himself, and irritated that nobody cared if he was bored, looked around for something to do.

He was still not particularly welcome in the FBI Headquarters. Scully had reported his assistance in their recent case, and he had, for a while, basked in the mild approval of AD Skinner and the rest of the familiar old crew. He was there pending the completion of Skinners report, and had spent most of his day dictating every last thing he could remember of the Cancerman's headquarters, and the contents of the files he had been exposed to. He had not been reinstated however, nor did he want to be. He still pursued his own hidden agenda, and his employer was not the FBI. Being in the Hoover building again made him feel edgy, as if he were caged somehow. He gazed over at Fox, who was deep into writing his umpteenth report and who wore his glasses as a signal that to disturb him would be punishable by a fate worse than death. Scully sat, self-contained as a cat, glasses falling down her nose as she typed.

He prowled restlessly for a few minutes until Mulder finally snapped.

"Alex, for God's sake, go out and play! I can't work with you fooling around all over the place." Alex sulked for a second, and Scully, without even turning her head, scored a direct hit on his cranium with the eraser that she lobbed in his direction. Feeling more than a little aggrieved, Alex mooched off out the basement in search of something to occupy his peculiar talents.

Once out on the street, he turned up the collar of his leather jacket and strode away from the warmth of the building. There was a fine, thin drizzle that hit his face, and a wind that felt colder than Scully's welcome. He groaned and walked purposefully off into the weather, head down and jacket fastened close against the cold and damp.

Five minutes later, he was shaking himself like a puppy to remove the moisture he had collected before wandering into the welcoming warmth of the pub he had found. He blew on his frozen fingers and stepped inside the bar, where there were several pool tables and a large screen TV, currently showing a hockey game. He ordered a beer, and once he had it in his hand, he drifted over and slouched against the wall to watch one of the games of pool in progress.

It had been several years since he had come here. He looked around but could see nobody he knew. This was good; it meant that nobody should recognize him either. He cast his mind back to the first time he had been brought here.

The Cigarette Smoker had led him to a table at the back of the bar and had effectively directed him to the mission that would change his life forever.

"You will go to Agent Fox Mulder with this file. You will insist on remaining in charge of the case. When Agent Mulder attempts (as he will) to shake you off, you will persist. You will stay with Agent Mulder, and you will make yourself indispensable to him. I'm sure you will be able to think of ways to do this, you're a very...ah...bright young man." The Smoker looked him up and down as he spoke these last words, setting off warning bells in Alex's head. He continued, "You will also ensure that he does not take a live suspect into custody. Do you have any questions?"

The man sitting beside him blew a cloud of evil smelling smoke in his direction, and Alex gagged a little. He had heard of Spooky Mulder, as had everyone in the division, though he had never met him. He had privately laughed about the man's obsessions. Why live in a dark and demon inhabited world when there were beaches, pretty girls, rock n' roll and fast cars? Alex lived a life uncomplicated by commitment, with no more serious thoughts than whether to play football or basketball. He wondered where this assignment was leading and leaned forward towards his employer, forehead creased in a frown.

"I'm getting the feeling that you aren't telling me everything here, Sir." Fixing the boss with his best 'trust me' look.

"I'm telling you everything you need to know. Suffice it to say that I want you to build a relationship with Agent Mulder, become his friend. Do whatever it takes." A thought flashed through Alex's mind, scorching the sides as it went.

"Um.... Is this Mulder guy gay? I don't do guys, Sir!" The Smoker smiled and stubbed out the remains of his Morley.

"I'm sure you will find it in yourself to improvise, Mr. Krycek. Read the file now, and be prepared to get in your claim as soon as you can. I don't have to tell you that this is very important to a future government project." With that, he had risen from his seat and left the bar, leaving a thoughtful young agent to sit and speculate.

With a shudder, Alex came back to the present. Looking back over the past four years gave him a sinking feeling he didn't like, couldn't deal with just at present. He'd been betrayed by his employer...he should say his ex-employer. He'd fallen for the man that he had been sent to shadow and dropped into hell by his own double-crossing boss. Mulder had hated him. He'd spent years running,-not always certain from what, and lost practically everything he held dear. His career, his physical perfection, his ability to tolerate the darkness were all gone. He was left with a smoldering hatred for the man who had destroyed everything he'd valued in his life.

He closed his eyes for a second. The only good thing to come out of his ordeal was Fox. He was grateful for Fox. The door to the bar swung open, and as Alex glanced idly across, he hissed a sharp breath between his teeth and drew back into the shadows. Cancerman was there, in the doorway, lighting up a cigarette prior to finding a table. Alex wondered if he was meeting another young idealistic soul and how long it would take to corrupt him. Lurking in the back of the bar, behind the pool table, Alex watched his nemesis as he ordered and drank a glass of something amber with ice in it. He hoped it was toxic! Nobody approached the smoker, and Alex grew bored. He was checking his watch for the time, when without warning, something hard and cold was shoved into his back and a command was hissed into his ear.

"Don't move or you're dead." He froze.

Fox:

Mulder had finished his ever-present paperwork. It had been a hard slog, but worth it. It meant that he and Alex could maybe go out on the town tonight instead of being tied to the computer screen. He understood his lover's boredom, but he didn't know what he could do for the other man. It would take time to get him reinstated in his old job, if it were possible at all. Alex had been back in his life for only a few days, but already Mulder was hooked. He couldn't concentrate on work for thinking of him. He daydreamed constantly. Always in his visions were the wide spaced green eyes, the dark lashes curling in a way that would send most women crazy with envy, (they certainly sent him crazy with lust!) the carefully molded mouth and the perfect skin.

Mulder leaned back in his chair, flexing the muscles in his back and shoulders, and hearing them crack as he stretched. He gave himself over to imagining the incredible things that beautiful mouth would do to him later. He shuddered as he ran a scenario in his head. Alex had the softest lips and the most inventive fingers. Mulder felt as if he were a schoolboy once more. Despite his age, and his short-lived marriage, he had very little experience with close relationships and tended to think of sex as a solo sport. Alex had proven to him that it could be fun for doubles too, and always a quick learner, Mulder was developing skills he had previously never suspected he possessed. He was learning things about himself lately, the most exciting of which was that he loved Alex more than he thought he could ever love anyone.

He tried to remember why the man had instilled such rage in him for so long, but all he could do was picture his face as it turned up to him for a kiss, eyes plaintive and lips parted. He gave himself up to imagining sinking into that soft mouth and sighed. As he zoned out, his partner glanced over at him and shook her head disapprovingly. She was feeling more than a little disturbed by Mulder's latest insanity. She could understand that Krycek was pretty, and that he had a certain amount of charm, but really! The man was a slippery, double crossing rat. He killed people without blinking and appeared to hire himself out on a whim to just about anybody that would pay. Didn't that make him a whore? Why he was battening on Mulder she didn't know, but she would find out, and when she did, he was going to be history.

In a way, she liked the new, love-smitten Mulder. He was less argumentative, more considerate and altogether less of a challenge to work with. On the whole however, she wished she had her old, familiar, cantankerous Mulder back. She had never quite given up hope that he would some day wake up and see that she was desirable, and...well...desire her!

"Mulder, what are you doing tonight? Do you want to take in a movie? I'm going to go see "The Mighty". I'm hearing very good things about it." She tossed a pencil over at him, and it rebounded off his chin, making him jump in his chair and practically tipping him out onto the floor.

"Hmmm...?" Mulder righted himself but still wasn't right there with her, she could tell. "Sorry, I was just daydreaming there...what did you say?"

"Oh nothing, I was just asking if you felt going to a movie with me." She felt cross. He was ignoring her in a manner calculated to make her feel very inadequate, not something that sat well with her. She prided herself on her resourcefulness and capability, so why should she feel so forlorn when this nitwit in front of her sat mooning over a man with questionable morals?

"Jeez Scully! I think my evening's all booked up. I'll have to check with...." He broke off hurriedly as she jumped to her feet, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Don't say it!" She hissed at him, causing him to cower down in his chair, pulling his tie safely off the desk and out of reach just in case. "I'm getting really fed up with hearing about the one armed wonder rat! You are so besotted I can't stand you any more." She whirled on her high heels and stomped from the office, slamming the door behind her. Mulder watched her go in blank amazement. Slowly, he shook his head, and reached for his cell-phone. Pressing the speed dial, he waited for the response.

"Scully, it's me. What did I do?" He scratched his head in bafflement.

"Eat shit and die Mulder, I'm going on vacation!" Came the terse reply, followed by a click and the dial tone. Mulder slowly put down his cell phone and surveyed the room. He was alone in it. Where did Alex go anyway? He got to his feet, gathered up his coat and left the room in search of his lover.

Dana:

Dana Scully emerged from the office of Assistant Director Skinner in a slightly better mood. She had gone in to request a few days leave to attend a conference on forensic medicine. She was not really hyped about the presentations themselves, but she knew that she needed a break from the situation here in Washington. She had watched the man she thought her own private property (ready for collection whenever she wanted him) suddenly lose his head over a pretty, murderous sleazebag. Not only that but he was beginning to wear the sleek, satisfied look of a man who was screwing himself into oblivion at every opportunity, while she was having a hard time trying to recall just exactly when she last got laid. She had actually found herself wistfully eyeing the bulge in Krycek's jeans this morning as he had prowled around the office whining. This was not a good thing!

She had found AD Skinner in a good mood. He had listened to her request for time to attend the conference and grinned at her.

"So they are starting to make you nauseous too?" He'd said, and she'd relaxed as she realized that she didn't have to go through the rigmarole of trying to explain her frustration. He understood. Wordlessly she nodded, and good old AD Skinner had swiftly OK'd not only the trip but also the expense account she hadn't dared to ask for. She trotted off to pack feeling a little happier than she had earlier.

Dana:

She had disembarked from her plane and was now standing in line waiting for her rental car. She was feeling a little strange. Usually a careful planner, who meticulously prepared for every possible eventuality, she was a little unsure how she had arrived here in Canada merely because she had been annoyed. It was unlike her to storm off the way she had, and normally she prided herself on being the voice of reason, tempering the excesses of her partner. Not this time, she grinned ruefully to herself. He's going to think I have a screw loose. I think I do too!

Picking up her car, she made her way through the underground parking lot to the rental bay. Tossing her small suitcase into the back of the Sunbird, she climbed in and adjusted the seat before putting it into gear and pulling out of the berth. As she left the airport, she could see the mountains in the distance, and on a clear, bright day like today she felt as if she were heading for adventure.

As she approached the downtown hotel where she was to stay, she became aware of some commotion outside the car. There was the sound of breaking glass, followed by the revving of engines. She hastily pulled to the side as a car careered past her on the wrong side of the road, followed closely by a motorcycle. As she craned her neck to see what was happening, she felt an ominous clenching in the pit of her stomach. It seemed as if she had seen the rider of the motor bike before. As the two vehicles disappeared from view, two more people could be observed running from the main doors of the hotel. She saw them climbing into a car parked on the curbside. With a U-turn in the face of oncoming traffic, they took off after the others. Scully shook her head and pulled in to the space that had been vacated.

Later, after she had checked in and found the schedule for the conference that began the following day, she pulled on her jeans and sweatshirt and wandered down to the bar for a pre-dinner drink. The bar looked out over the inlet, and she could see the lights of distant boats and buildings from her seat by the window.

There were several other people scattered around the room, and she wondered if they felt as lonely and bored as she did. Noise erupted at the entrance to the bar as a group of three entered and took a table on the opposite side of the room. She looked up to see who was disturbing the evening. One, a lanky, fresh faced young man, eyed her shamelessly as he sat, long legs stretched out in front of him. An equally tall woman sat beside him, and they were both deep in animated conversation with a third person. He sat with his back to Scully, and she could see that he had short, dark hair and powerful shoulders. He seemed familiar, and she tried for a better angle, but could not see his face.

The woman, a beautiful Chinese girl, was angry about something and was remonstrating with her companions. The tall man who sat beside her was apparently not worried about this and was behaving in a manner calculated to drive her into total fury. The third seemed quiet, and although she could see that he spoke from time to time, for the most part he appeared content to allow the other two to bicker. Appeared so, that is, until he suddenly got up out of his seat and punched that tall man on the jaw, sending him crashing to the floor over the back of his seat.

Scully looked on in blank amazement as the aggressor threw his hands in the air and then strode out of the bar. His body was taut with fury, and his face was contorted as he stomped out of the room. The man she had felt was so familiar was none other than Alex Krycek. She felt in her purse for her cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Mulder!" The familiar voice of her partner answered her.

"Mulder, it's me." She smiled. She couldn't stay mad at him forever. She was going to give him a shock anyway, so she should stop behaving like a pre-menstrual neurotic and just be nice.

"Scully, I thought you were out of town 'til Tuesday." His voice sounded puzzled, but she could hear stress in it and wondered what the problem was. She thought she knew the answer. How could she check this out without worrying him unnecessarily?

"I am, but I just wanted to ask you if you've seen Krycek lately."

"No, in fact I'm getting worried about him. Scully, what do you know?" His response came back in a rush. She could tell that he was very worried already, and her heart went out to him. She was going to make things worse, she could just tell.

"I'm not sure Mulder, I'll call you later, OK?" Hanging up the phone and stowing it back in her purse, she wondered whether she should just have told him or not. Oh well, time would tell.

Alex:

Alex was cold. He didn't know how long he had been in his dungeon, but he was frozen, hungry and thirsty. He also needed to pee very badly indeed. He stood huddled by the door, listening, occasionally banging and shouting, and wondering if he had been left there to die.

He'd done jumping jacks and some tai chi forms to try and keep warm in the darkness, but the cold was really beginning to penetrate to his bones now, and he no longer had the energy to keep moving. His nausea had subsided, but his head still hurt, and he knew that he had bruises.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he awoke. He was so cold now that he felt lightheaded, and his joints were stiff and sore. He had leaned up against the door to go to sleep, and now the door was pressing against his back painfully as someone on the other side attempted to open it against his body.

Stumbling to his feet, he moved slightly to allow whomever it was free passage. There was still no light, and he could not make out any details of the person who was entering the room. The door, which he had expected to creak, opened smoothly and quietly, and the footsteps were also quiet. Lurking behind the door, Alex prepared to pounce in the direction of whoever had come in but was shockingly pre-empted as his arms were seized and a hood thrust roughly over his head. He struggled desperately, but to no avail. He was bundled to the ground, his arms secured behind his back, with ties at elbow and wrist, his feet hobbled together at the ankles with only about six inches of slack between his feet. Lying face down in the clammy darkness, his head inside a hood made from some coarse, itchy fabric, and someone kneeling on his back in just exactly the spot that made his full bladder agonizing, Alex wished he had stayed in bed that morning.

He wondered how his assailant could see to catch and truss him up so effectively.

"What do you want from me? Why don't you just let me go?" As he yelled out, he received a cuff on the back of the neck. Nobody said anything to him. He was starting to feel seriously spooked. He hated the darkness, and he didn't know why he had been apprehended. Why didn't they just put him out of his misery?

More footsteps came, and after a minute or two he felt himself yanked to his feet and pulled roughly.

"Hey, Guys, I'd really appreciate a bathroom at this point. I'm in serious danger of an accident here if I can't go pee." Once more a blow to the back of his head let him know his opinion was neither required nor appreciated.

They pushed and pulled him for some feet before he stumbled against a set of stairs, smacking his knee into one of them. He bit off a cry and began to climb. Sixteen stairs, there were sixteen. He hung onto the number, thinking insanely that sixteen was going to be an unlucky number for someone.

He suddenly felt light on his face through the cloth that covered it and with lightness came warmth. He wanted to cry out it felt so good. Something that was unmistakably a gun was thrust into the back of his neck, and he felt the ties being released on his arms. He was pushed forward and for the first time heard the voice of his captor.

"Use the toilet. Any sudden movement and you're history." Alex gulped. Fumbling for his fly, blind in the claustrophobic hood, he shuffled towards the urinal. The relief was incredible. He felt almost human as his guard jerked on his elbow, pulling him off balance and almost toppling him as he staggered backwards. He yelled out and once more received a blow, this time so hard that he crumpled and fell.

Dana:

The dinner had been OK, not great, not wonderful, but OK. She wondered what to do to kill time until she felt sleepy. Emerging into the shadows of the evening, she set off for a brisk walk to take in her surroundings. Heading down the staircase from the cafe on the mezzanine in her hotel, she caught sight of the tall couple she had seen earlier in the bar.

The tall man was still irritating his beautiful companion, and she was standing with her shoulder turned to him, every inch of her radiating annoyance. She looked up, spotting Dana, and they shared the rolled up eyes and shrug that united them as a sisterhood who knew just what pains in the ass men can be. Dana grinned at her, and she wandered over to chat.

The woman would have made a wonderful model. Tall, lean and exotic, she had on a very short skirt and high boots. Her short hair was slicked back from her face, and she was stunning. Dana craned her neck upward as she approached and smiled. She was happy and a little relieved to think that there was someone she could talk to. She had been feeling very isolated, unaccustomed to being totally alone and not sure if she liked it. She wasn't sure if she liked the feeling of not having a case to work on either. There were usually too many things filling her day, and she had forgotten how to spend free time. Maybe this girl would be able to point her in the right direction, and she'd have some fun after all.

"Hi! I think I saw you earlier didn't I?"

Victor:

He was tense and angry. He'd spent the past several hours trying to make his partner understand that you just don't behave like a child all the time. It's all right to be carefree, but downright irresponsibility was different. Mac had deliberately placed a young woman's life in danger with his foolish posturing, and Vic had been forced to put his own safety on the line in order to save her. Mac had appeared to be completely uncaring about the way things had gone down and he'd laughed at Victor, as usual. When Mac had mocked him this last time, right in front of Li Ann, he'd come to the end of his tolerance. He'd risen, punched the taller man full on the jaw and then left quickly before he could be goaded into doing anything worse. He knew he wasn't the world's greatest brain, but he wasn't stupid, and he resented the implication that he was.

Though not given to the quick flashes of brilliance that were his partner's signature, Victor Mansfield was loyal, honest and fierce. He was a careful, kind, methodical man who would not give up until he had solved a mystery and seen the wrongdoers behind bars. If he had a major fault it was his very quick temper. He didn't suffer fools gladly, and in his mind at the moment Mac was shaping up to being a prize asshole.

He strode out of the bar after he had knocked Mac down, not sure where he was heading, but grateful to be away from the constant barbs that the taller man constantly planted. As he flung himself out of the door, he reflected that he was living a life of constant aggravation and fury. It was only a matter of time until he developed ulcers. He stomped down the marble steps that led to the hotel's main doors, and was just making the turn to go to the parking lot for his truck when a low, soft voice cut through his brooding.

"Victor, walk with me for a minute." He turned and stopped like a mouse that had just seen a snake. The Director was wearing a pinstriped man's suit, bowler hat and vest. She did not, however, look like a man. She wore no shirt under the vest, and her cleavage would have been most interesting to Vic if she'd been anyone else but his boss. Vic swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. As the Director took his arm, he shuddered quietly, wondering what was coming.

"I expect a certain standard of behavior from my operatives, Victor." Her voice never rose above a purr, but his stomach clenched at the ominous words.

"What do you want me to say? I got that girl out of trouble after your precious Mac decided that she was expendable. Did you want me to just walk away from it? I'm sorry, I can't do that." He spoke quietly, his tone matching the Director's, but his eyes flashed angrily, and the crease across the top of his nose reflected his irritation. Vic might be scared of this woman, but he would never back down. "The man's a liability. Can't I go back to working alone?"

The Director didn't respond immediately. They walked on in silence, and Vic's stomach slowly began to churn as he waited for the blow that was sure to fall. When she did speak, it seemed to be totally unconnected.

"What do you know about cloning?" He did a double take at that, but his boss and nemesis appeared serene as they ambled along the sidewalk. He thought fast.

"Not a whole lot. I know it's been done with plants and some animals. Wasn't there a sheep or something?" Vic frowned as he sifted through the snippets of information he had stored in his brain.

"Very good, Victor. There was indeed a sheep. I want you to take a little trip for me, Victor. There have been some very worrying developments in the field of cloning, and our sources show a tie-in between events happening here in Vancouver and certain extremely dark developments that are currently occurring in Washington. Now for reasons I can't go into right at this minute, the only person I can send to look into things just happens to be you. However, I don't want you to think that this is some kind of a reward for your recent behavior. Let me remind you that you are mine now, and you will do what I say.

"You will return right now and apologize to Mac, and then you'll complete your current tasks. I want you packed and ready to travel to Washington the day after tomorrow. Contact Dobrinski for the information we have on file about your upcoming assignment." She paused and turned to Vic, who was looking at her with a broad grin that hardly dimmed when she mentioned apologizing to Mac. Patting his face with her slender fingers, she idly drew her index finger down his neck to fondle the ex-cop's chest. "Oh, and Victor... Try to wear something a little more ...er... dressy. You are, after all, going to the US Capitol. See if you can impress them with your beauty, if not your brains." With that parting shot, she turned on her heel and strode off leaving Vic looking after her with a faintly puzzled expression on his face.

Shaking his head, he turned and began to re-trace his footsteps, heading back to the hotel he had so recently left.

Dana:

Standing in the hotel lobby, conversing with the beautiful Asian woman, Dana was relaxing for the first time in a very long while. She was right to take some time away from her claustrophobic relationship with Mulder. The two women had made a date to go out shopping the next afternoon and were now discussing restaurants in the area. Dana had her back to the door when Victor Mansfield walked back into the hotel. Spotting Li Ann, he made his way over to her, hoping to find out where Mac had gone.

"Hey, Li Ann. Have you seen Mac? The Director wants us to take that package back in to HQ now, not tomorrow." A familiar husky voice made Dana draw her breath in sharply. Turning, she found herself looking at Alex Krycek. She shook her head and tried to make the vision go away, but it was still Alex when she looked back again. The man gazed at her incuriously. Li Ann had already indicated that Mac was still in the bar. The puzzled expression that this red-haired stranger was wearing finally sank in. Vic wasn't sure what he had done.

"Pardon me, do I know you?" Vic's voice was throaty, just like Alex's. She shook her head wonderingly.

"No, er...that is I don't think so. It's just that you look so much like a friend of mine back in Washington. You could be his twin." Her voice trailed off; he was looking at her with some interest now.

"Washington? Are you from Washington? Are we talking State, or DC here?" His smile was sweet. Dana decided that the difference between this man and Krycek was apparent at this moment. Krycek smiled rarely, but then to be fair, he hadn]t had many reasons to smile. She put out her hand.

"I'm Dana Scully. I'm here on a conference just for the weekend, but I work in Washington DC." she smiled. "Why? Do you know someone down in Washington?"

"Nope, not a one. Sorry. I'm Victor Mansfield, and I'm only interested because I have to go to DC next week. I've never been. Look, maybe you'd like to have a drink and tell me a little about the place." Dana looked at the man towering over her. He was cute. She found Alex sexy, but this man had Alex's looks without the feral aura that Alex carried with him like a shield. Not only was he cute but he was looking at her with the kind of interest she hadn't seen displayed towards her for some time.

She looked at Li Ann, wondering at the expression she saw flitting over the tall woman's face. It looked as if Li Ann was trying her best to decide whether she should be jealous or not. Making up her mind, Dana nodded. She was on holiday, well, sort of, and she was damned well going to have a good time. Vic punched his very real left fist into the palm of his right hand and grinned widely. Holding out his hand to usher her before him, he escorted her back into the bar leaving Li Ann who called out that she would see her tomorrow.

As he followed Dana into the bar, Vic studied her rear view. She was classy and elegant despite her casual clothing. Vic liked her clear skin and red hair. It would be nice to make a friend down in DC if he was going to have to go there. Pointing to the bar, he raised his eyebrow in silent inquiry. Dana considered.

"I'll have a Long Island Iced Tea, please." She deserved a little relaxation and had decided that things were looking up. Vic held a seat for her, and then sauntered over to the bar where he speedily acquired drinks for the two of them. As he returned to where Dana was sitting, she spotted the tall man he had been arguing with previously zeroing in on him.

Vic appeared to be feeling better about the newcomer, or maybe he was merely on his best behavior, but he actually smiled at the taller man, and their conversation appeared to go well. He put their drinks down on the table and sat, his ankle casually resting on his knee. Dana had time to study him, and he was certainly worth studying.

He was dressed casually in a black, V-necked sweater, and blue jeans that were tight enough to display his nicely developed thighs. He moved more than Alex did, constantly tapping and fidgeting. He also smiled a lot more, she noticed, and in many ways his smile was infectious. She felt herself warm to him in a way that she had never been able to warm to Alex. Leaning forward, she offered a smile of her own.

"So, Vic, what was it exactly you wanted to know about DC?"

Alex:

He was cold. It was dark, and he had no clue as to where he was, or what people wanted with him. He did not know what time it was or how long he had been in the dark. He felt lightheaded, but at least he was conscious now. The drugs they had injected into him had begun to wear off.

He paced around his small, dark cell. He had felt around the walls repeatedly but had been unable to find anything that might help him. He had measured out the cell by pacing it out and knew every ridge and irregularity in the brickwork. It was no help. He had no idea how he could get out. His captors had relieved him of his prosthetic arm, ensuring that he had no spare gun and no knife. He still had the lock picks in the seams of his jeans and a serviceable garrote coiled into his belt but would have traded them both for his knife.

He knew he had to do something to keep warm. He moved into one of the Tai Chi forms, pacing out the moves slowly and deliberately, not needing to see as he balanced stretched and crouched, a flickering black flame in the velvet darkness of the cellar. As he worked his way through the form, he felt his body warming and his head began to feel as if it belonged to him once more.

He reflected on the happenings of recent months. He had found his heart's desire, only to lose it again almost immediately. Never in a million years would he have imagined that Fox Mulder could have fallen in love with him. He still couldn't believe it. His mind wandered back to the brief couple of nights they had spent in each other's arms since they had finally declared their love for one another. It seemed as if fate was conspiring the keep him apart from Fox.

They had been separated in Vancouver after only a single night because he had been shot. He had found his way back to Washington and was on his way to meet up with his lover once again when his ex- employer had used a strange weapon on him, sending him to a ghostly existence that was neither in or out of the real world. Alex had thought he was dead, and although he was now alive and kicking, he had missed out on the loving encounters he had been looking forward to. Following his return from the grave, he and Mulder had spent just one night together before he had ended up here, in a godforsaken cellar, captured by Lord alone knew who.

If he only knew who it was that was keeping him here he might be able to formulate a plan. He sat in the corner beside the door, in the area he knew was drier than all the rest and began to think about the couple of nights he had spent with Fox. Staring into the darkness, he willed an image of Fox to float in front of him. His eyes grew moist as he recalled the two of them rolling about in fits of laughter after Mulder had managed to cut Alex's forehead open with his teeth. He closed his eyes, picturing Mulder lying beneath him, eyes closed and lips parted as Alex drove into him, filling him.

Alex lay back and unfastened his jeans, preparing to pass the time as pleasantly as he could under the circumstances.

Mulder:

Fox Mulder had had a rough few days. He had fallen hard for a lying, cheating rogue with a pair of beautiful green eyes and a voice like cream stirred into brandy. He was not used to having anyone in his life and was finding it almost impossible to think of anything except Alex. The man had betrayed him once, and as a result, Mulder had hated him. Not only had he hated him, he had beaten him, abused him and been the direct cause of his loss of an arm. Mulder had not even cared about the mutilation until Alex had somehow managed to get under his skin by confessing his love for him, Fox Mulder, brutal abuser.

Mulder could picture him as he had stood in the hospital room, expecting Mulder to hit him. He had not attempted to defend himself, until in the end he stood defiantly waiting for the blows to start and had ducked his head to kiss the fist that was poised to strike him. Mulder couldn't say quite when it had happened, but he'd fallen in love with Alex Krycek. He'd offered his heart when he should have known better. Now, the cheating son of a bitch had disappeared without trace, leaving him with an ache in his heart that felt like a stab wound. The rat-bastard had left him flat. It seemed that he'd also alienated Scully, his best friend, before he'd gone away. Mulder was alone now, lonely, hurting and unsure whether he wanted to live on without him.

He'd searched almost every bar, pool hall and club on this side of the city and was now very close to giving up. It had been three days since Alex had left him alone to write that damned report. He'd shown photos of Alex to anyone who would stop to listen to him, and so far nobody had admitted to having seen him. Mulder pulled the collar of his topcoat up around his ears and shivered. The wind was an icy blast that threatened to flay the skin from his cheekbones, and mixed with it was sleet, lashing like knives as he walked. He ducked into the bar that he'd been aiming for, and his sharp intake of breath attested to the momentary agony of thawing flesh.

Moving up to the bar, he ordered a scotch and leaned against a stool for a moment, luxuriating in the warmth that had begun to permeate his frozen body. After a few minutes watching the pool players, he sipped at his drink and turned to the man behind the bar.

"I'm looking for a man." He waved Alex's photograph at him, watching carefully for any flash of recognition. The man's eyes opened wide momentarily, and Mulder felt a quick surge low in his belly.

"What do you want him for?" The man was cagey, and Mulder contemplated grabbing him and pistol whipping the information out of him. Taking a hold of himself long enough to quell the rising tide of anger he was experiencing, Mulder fixed the bartender with a soulful look.

"The rat-bastard owes me money. He owes me big time!" The man nodded, obviously buying into the fiction.

"Figures. He has shifty eyes!" Once again Mulder fought back a surge of fury and concentrated on extracting the information from the other man. "Yeah, he was in here 3 days ago. He got into a rumble with a couple of other guys. I guess you aren't the only one he owes money to?" Mulder nodded, a sick leap swooping through his stomach as he realized that he'd at last found a positive lead. " I guess he went with a couple of the regulars in the end. He didn't seem to be too happy about the arrangement, so it looks as if they were after the same as you."

Mulder closed his eyes, worry gnawing at his chest as he pictured the kind of trouble Alex might be in. "Do you know where I can find any of these guys? I'd be real happy to talk to them." He slid a $20.00 over the counter towards the man, who made it disappear very quickly.

"Yeah. Ray over there is one of them." The bartender jerked his thumb over at the far pool table, towards a tall, heavy set man wearing a check shirt and filthy blue jeans, who was idly taking shots at the pool balls between gulps at a pint of beer.

Mulder nodded his thanks as he moved off towards the back of the room. He found a table and placed himself so he could observe his quarry. His mind was racing. He was beginning to think that Alex was in trouble after all and that he'd maligned him by assuming that he'd just walked out. He wasn't sure if that was good news or not. He began to picture Alex lying dead or seriously hurt somewhere. His chest tightened as he envisaged nameless horrors.

Sometime later, the solitary pool player slouched over to take his jacket from the rack and left the bar. As he left, Mulder was right behind him.

The man left the bar and began to walk away down the street. Nobody else was visible in the sodium glare of the streetlights. The sleet had turned into snow. Mulder did not feel that it was much of an improvement as the wind lashed small, hard pellets against his face. He quickened his pace and caught up with the other man, his gun held ready in his pocket.

"Ray, I want to talk to you." The man paused and turned towards Mulder.

"Bite me!" He turned to walk on, and Mulder reached for the back of his collar, hauling him off balance as he swung against the back of the man's head with his gun. His captive reeled, and Mulder thrust the pistol into his back, shoving him face first into the brick wall.

"No thanks, I haven't had my rabies shots! I want to know everything you do about Alex Krycek. I want to know where you took him, and who has him now. I want to know it right this minute, and if you are very co-operative you will win a prize." The man heaved backwards at Mulder, and Mulder put a bullet into his shoulder.

"I'm not joking, you bastard! The next one will be your kneecap. How do you feel about artificial limbs? Think you'd like to try one?" White faced, the thug slid down the wall to sit in the snow at Mulder's feet.

"Don't shoot me. I'll tell you." The man was virtually squeaking in his fear. "We were paid by an old guy to take him and make sure he was delivered to an address out in the suburbs. We took him out there about three days ago."

"Was he OK? What did you do to him?" Mulder had his hand at the other man's throat, and was raising his gun to hit him. The other man flinched.

"We didn't hurt him, honest. We injected him with a knockout drug, but he wasn't hurt. He was fine when we left him, honest!" He gave Mulder the address. Mulder stepped back, still holding the gun on the other man.

"Get up!" He staggered to his feet, and Mulder snapped cuffs onto him, shoving him in front of him to where he had left his car. "I can't let you go just yet. I don't want you warning them that I'm coming. You're going to have to stay out of the limelight for a little while. He threw the cuffed man into the back of his car, secured the cuffs by clipping them around the iron frame of the seat, and pulled away from the parking lot.

As he drove, his cell phone rang. Thumbing it open, he raised it to his ear.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me. Where are you?" Scully's voice cut through Mulder's dire imaginings. "I just got back, and there's someone I want you to meet."

Dana:

As Mulder's car pulled up to the building where she lived, Dana Scully tugged Vic Mansfield's sleeve and pointed through the window. She was fascinated to see how Mulder would react to her companion. Vic had heard at great length about Mulder and his theories, and despite Dana's attempts to be supportive of her partner, Vic was expecting to meet a rare nutball. He was looking forward to it, knowing that he would be able to share his experiences on his return and looking forward to a good laugh.

Mulder approached the apartment block. Vic got an impression of a tall, elegantly tailored man, dressed in a dark grey wool overcoat, with a lighter grey suit beneath. His hair was dark, and his face, at that point set in a scowl, was handsome, with a finely sculpted mouth and a pair of expressive eyes. Scully moved to admit her partner, holding the door so that he could enter. He was already speaking as he came into her

"I've got a lead on where Alex went, but I'm going to need some assistance to get...." Mulder's voice stopped suddenly, gasping as he caught sight of Vic. With a curse, he moved swiftly across the room to pin the unsuspecting ex-cop against the wall, running his hand around to the back of his neck and pulling his face forward to kiss him hard. There was a pregnant moment when Mulder thought things were looking up, and then Vic managed to get his frozen brain in gear, and yanked Mulder away by the hair, coughing and spluttering as he did so. Mulder pushed forward with his forearm against Vic's throat. Vic kneed the hapless Mulder in the balls and as he folded in the middle, followed through with a vicious chop to the back of his neck that felled him neatly. Turning to Scully, he held his hands out, palms up.

"What? What the hell was that? What did I do?" He stood looking aggrieved, while Mulder moaned and groaned in his heap on the floor.

Scully was hooting with most unlady-like laughter. Tears ran down her cheeks as she attempted to contain her mirth. She collapsed onto the couch, holding her sides as she laughed. Mulder slowly pulled himself up off the floor and stared at her, as indeed did Vic.

Finally, she was able to stop laughing long enough to gasp out a few words. "Mulder, meet Victor Mansfield. Vic, this is my partner, Fox Mulder." She went off into a renewed spasm of laughter while Vic and Mulder surveyed each other distrustfully.

Mulder heard the introduction, and blinked. He looked at Victor, trying to process the information that his Alex was not unique. He opened his mouth and closed it again. The man in front of him was Alex; he would swear to it. He moved closer to the man before him, and Vic raised both hands in a gesture that was part placatory and part threat. Mulder's eyes widened as he watched Victor's left arm bend up, and his very real left hand clench into a fist.

This was not Alex Krycek. Mulder shivered.

Alex:

His head throbbed. He could hear a strange, high pitched sound a little like a dentist's drill, and there were muffled voices somewhere to his left. He had fallen asleep and was now waking to find that he had been moved. He thought he must have been drugged because his head hurt and his limbs tingled. There was a hood over his head once more, and he was tightly bound on a hard surface. His chest appeared to be strapped down, and his arm was immobilized. He was laid in a spread-eagled fashion, and his ankles had been fixed tightly, pulling his legs apart. He was naked.

He felt a faint breeze against his skin, and his senses swam as he fought off the effects of whatever drug he had been given. He had remained comparatively cheerful up until this point, but he could feel his optimism crumble as he visualized his predicament. As far as he knew, he was not going to be rescued. Nobody knew he was here, and there would be no rescue attempt. He was helpless, trussed up like a turkey ready for the oven, and with his clothing had gone his last remaining weaponry. He could not see his surroundings but was ready to bet that he was going to be put through some kind of unpleasant ordeal. To crown it all, he was feeling very sick, and really wanted to vomit very badly indeed.

He lay as still as he could, thinking that his captors might not realize that he had awoken. His ears were acute and he attempted to sort out some way of gaining information about his surroundings. At first the sounds echoed inside his head, making it swim, but gradually he became aware that the drilling sound was not right there in the room with him. As a door opened and then closed, the volume rose and then dropped back to its original level. He could hear several sets of footsteps and a peculiar grating sound somewhere behind his head. He licked his dry lips and realized that he was thirsty. A moan escaped his lips.

Suddenly the door opened once again, and heavy heels clipped the floor as somebody approached him. A familiar, hated voice impinged on his ears.

"Mr. Krycek. I'm so glad you could make it today. I've been looking forward to seeing you again. I have one or two things that I need to discuss with you." The Cigarette Smoking Man lit a Morley. Alex heard the rasp of his lighter, and then, the familiar acrid smell of the smoke hit him, sending fresh waves of nausea over him. He moaned again.

Footsteps behind his head made him jump a little, and then rough hands were untying the folds of cloth that were around his face, pulling it away and making his eyes water and screw themselves up following their long sojourn in the darkness of the cellar. For a while the strong light was so dazzling after the darkness that his eyes were no use to him. He could make out only vague shapes surrounded by rainbows. Desperately he tried to clear his vision, needing to see where he was and what threatened him.

Slowly his eyes began to tolerate the light once again, and he began to make out the crow-like silhouette of his ex-employer. He could turn his head through a limited arc, and this was enough to let him see that there were two large, ugly guards, one on each side of him. He could see a small, slender woman with her hair tied back under some kind of cap, wearing green surgical garments. He could not see what she was doing, but it obviously involved her entire concentration. Finally, with a mental shrug, he turned his head back and fixed his eyes on his nemesis.

"What do you want from me?" His voice was cracked and rusty from lack of moisture. He began to cough and felt his gorge rising as he did so. With a supreme effort he swallowed his feeling of sickness, refusing to allow the old man looming over him to see how uncomfortable he was feeling. "Are you just going to have me lie here and look cute?"

The smoker gestured expansively with his cigarette. "All in good time, Mr. Krycek. I have a proposition to put to you. Meanwhile, allow me to make you more comfortable." He gestured to one of the goons at Krycek's side, and he stepped forward with a water bottle and a straw. He placed the straw between Alex's lips, and as he began to suck, the water flowed, cool and sweet into his dry throat, washing his mouth clean and improving his spirits remarkably. For a moment he closed his eyes and gave himself up to the sheer bliss of a cool drink quenching his raging thirst. At last, he heard the gurgling sounds that indicated that the bottle was empty. He allowed the straw to fall from his lips, and mumbled a "Thank you" to whoever might choose to accept it.

The smoker had been standing back, eyeing Alex's body, displayed for him on the metal table where he was lying. Now he came forward to stand over Alex.

"When you were first assigned to Fox Mulder, you were directed to get close to him in any way you could. Do you remember? You have been very successful. More so than I could possibly have hoped. Now it's time for you to complete your long delayed mission, Mr. Krycek." The smoker took a long drag of his cigarette, allowing the ash from it to fall onto Alex's belly. Alex fought not to react.

"What are you talking about? What are you going to do to him?" Alex's voice had begun to betray him. His fear for Mulder was now so strong that he was fighting back the urge to plead for him. He wanted to beg the smoker to go and find another target, to make him leave Fox in peace.

"That's not your concern. All you have to do is bring him to us, at a place and time to be appointed, and we will allow you to go free. We'll even return him to you once we have finished with him." The smoker smiled. He appeared to be genuinely amused.

"No! You can do what you like to me, but you can't have Fox. I sold him out to you before, and I won't do it again." Alex closed his eyes. Sweat was beginning to stand out on his forehead although the room was not warm by any stretch of the imagination. His mind raced over the possibilities of what might come next and he was afraid.

"My advice to you is not to make your decision without careful thought. The doctor here is with us only for another few hours, but she's been looking forward to seeing you again." Alex studied the nondescript woman in the white coat who had moved up to stand beside his tormentor. He had no recollection of ever having seen her before and could not imagine what the other man meant until he saw a film of black slowly curl across the woman's eyes. Alex felt faint. He knew beyond a doubt who this was, and he could feel a scream welling up as he recalled his last encounter with the thing that rode the doctor beside him. He turned his head away.

"What are you going to do to me? Are you going to make me like her? Are you going to put that stuff into me again?" His voice was trembling a little, and he cleared his throat. He wanted to go out with dignity if he could but suspected that it wasn't going to be possible after all.

"Oh, no! You are for some reason immune to the infection or we'd have taken that course right away. It would have been so much more convenient. Don't you think? No, you are part of a large genetic research program, and we require your tissue for further experimentation. You and Mr. Mulder both have certain genes that we cannot allow to slip through our fingers. We have decided that if you feel unable to co- operate with us regarding our requirements, there is no choice but to remove the tissue we require so that it can be stored until it is needed, and then, ah... dispose of the surplus." Alex's mind was racing. They were going to remove parts of him and then kill him. They were going to remove parts of Fox too. Maybe they would let Fox go, but he didn't think so.

"What are you talking about? What tissue are you going to remove from us? You're going to kill us both, aren't you? Why even bother having this conversation?" Alex was shaking now; he had never felt so helpless.

"Now, now, Mr. Krycek! You've proven very useful to us in the past. One hates to throw a good weapon away. It's always better to attempt first to sharpen a dull knife, don't you think? The Consortium would like to have you working for us again, but there are of course questions about your loyalty. We'd need assurances of your continuing desire to be of service to us. Consequently, we are asking that you deliver Fox Mulder to us. The tissue that we require is testicular, and we're aware that you do not wish to lose your testicles. Should you be willing to co-operate with us, there are methods we can employ that would leave you still able to have sex if you wish. If you remain adamant in your refusal, there is really not much to discuss. You won't be requiring your gonads in the grave, will you?" The black-clad man smiled as if he had made a joke, and Alex struggled with the straps that held him. He knew it was hopeless, and a part of him wanted to beat himself up for it, but he absolutely could not stop himself.

"How long do I have to think about it?" Alex was trying to buy time however he could.

"I think we can allow you to ponder your situation for a short while. Shall we say six hours?" The smoker lit another cigarette and glanced at the alien doctor for confirmation. She nodded curtly, and taking out a stethoscope and a number of other instruments, she began a complete physical examination of the quivering man on the table.

"It will take some hours to ready the cryogenic receptacle. We can wait until then. This specimen is healthy and will not deteriorate in so short a time." So saying, she covered Alex's body with a white paper sheet, and the two left the room together. After a minute or two, the goons who had stood guard over him during the conversation also turned and left, but not before Alex had observed the tell-tale film of black oil that clouded their eyes.

Vic:

The two men drove off into the night, conscious of the fact that there was a large man on the back seat with a bullet in him. Vic had checked their captive out as they entered the vehicle and had secured him thoroughly using a roll of duct tape. The man was so trussed up now that he bore a strange resemblance to a silvery sheened mummy, and from time to time he moaned. It was not possible to do more than moan because his mouth had also been duct taped.

"You know, duct tape is the Force they were going on about in Star Wars!" Vic was grinning as he spoke.

"Hmmm..? How do you mean?" Mulder was driving fast, taking chances that made Victor wish he were behind the wheel. He wondered how he could take over the responsibility of driving without starting a war.

"Haven't you noticed? It has a dark side and a light side, and it binds the universe together!" Vic waited for a laugh. None was forthcoming. "You know what? I've got an associate you really should meet! You guys have so much in common. His name is Nathan, and there isn't a conspiracy he doesn't know about. You really have to meet him." Vic sniggered inside as he pictured an encounter between the two of them. Glancing at Mulder, he realized that the man was very worried and was not taking in much of what he was saying. He felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He briefly patted Mulder's shoulder but took his hand away when the other man flinched. "Hey! We'll get your friend out. Don't sweat it. As soon as we take a look at what we're up against, we'll be able to make some plans."

"I'm sorry! I'm just not good company. How long do you think it will take to get some kind of plan formulated?" Mulder's voice was harsh and strained. Vic sensed that the man was seriously upset about what was happening, and he fell silent, allowing Mulder the brooding time he so obviously wanted. They drove on in silence. Victor pondered what he knew of the situation. So far all he was aware of was that the captive they needed to rescue was a friend of the man sitting beside him and that there was a resemblance between this mysterious captive and Victor himself. He needed to know more.

The cell phone rang in Mulder's pocket, and he groped in his jacket for it, flipping the top one handed and grunting into it. Wordlessly he handed the phone to Vic.

It was Dana. She had heard from Mac, who had announced that he was going to be arriving in Washington at 6am. Glancing at his watch, Vic mentally calculated how much time they had before they needed to go and pick him up. It was now 2am. He nodded to himself. That would be plenty of time to drop off their captive before they needed to go to the airport.

Alex:

He came awake screaming. They were coming for him with hot knives. They were going to cut off his arm. He couldn't move, and there was nothing he could do.

He slowly returned to reality. Nightmares were a part of his life, and he'd come to accept them. Usually he knew that he would get through the nightmare and be able to greet the day. This time it was different. He was helpless, strapped to the table with no means of breaking free. He was awaiting an alien to come and perform obscene surgery on him, and he could do nothing but wait for the end, knowing that he was alone at last.

He pictured Fox, sitting in the car with him, waiting for him to take a flight out of Vancouver. He could see his misery as he waited to say goodbye, not knowing when, if ever, they would meet again.

He recalled Fox grieving for his supposed death, while he looked on, helpless and unable to do more than watch him.

He pictured the man he loved lying in his arms, all passion spent, grey eyes half-closed in sheer bliss as he recovered from their lovemaking. He had to do something. He just had to.

The door was pushed open at that point, and the doctor-thing came in, bearing a metal bowl. He felt a cold thrill of fear running down his back as he realized that time was running out for him.

The white clad woman twitched off the paper that was covering Alex and began checking his vital signs. Nodding to herself, she made a few notes on a chart, and then taking soap and a razor from the tray, she proceeded to shave his groin. Alex opened his mouth to try and communicate with the creature, but to no avail. She ignored him totally and continued with her task. As she finished, she dried him off and then replacing the sheet, she disappeared through the door, leaving Alex behind to worry and finally to panic.

Mulder:

They were waiting for Mac. Mulder was dubious as to how this person would be able to help him in his attempt to find Alex. He was by this point, however, willing to take any help he could get. A study of the house had revealed guards patrolling large grounds, and an electronic surveillance system that would certainly alert the occupants as soon as the boundaries were breached. He'd observed Victor in action as the two of them had checked out the unknown enemy's headquarters and grudgingly been impressed.

Mulder knew he should not hold it against Victor that he happened to look exactly like the man he loved, but he couldn't help resenting the fact that Vic still had two arms. He wondered what was going through the Canadian's head as he watched him pacing in an agitated fashion. Finally, just when Mulder could not stand any more of Vic's restless behavior, Vic looked up and Mulder observed a cocktail of emotions flitting across his face. Vic's face had lit up, making Mulder's breath catch in his throat as he watched him. Looking around he saw a tall, skinny guy with rather large ears bearing down on them.

He loves that man. How strange that they should be so much like Alex and me.

As Vic waved, the other man loped up and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder.

"Thought you could handle everything without us, did you? Hah! You can't do anything on your own!" The man was soft spoken, and his eyes twinkled with malicious good humor. Mulder suddenly felt very tired.

"Come on. We need to go now. We'll explain everything in the car on the way." Mulder cut across Victor's protests. He was anxious about his lover. Watching the two of them together just made him miss Alex more.

"Hold on for one more minute. The others brought checked baggage. They should be out in a little while." Vic gaped at Mac.

"The others? What others? Did Li Ann come?"

Mulder felt as if he were attempting to knit fog. He could not quite get a handle on the conversation and was inclined to be a little peeved.

"You brought your girlfriend or something? Oh, that's just great. And she brought her holiday outfits with her no doubt. Terrific. I hope you brought a tux. We're certainly going to need to go over that wall in formal gear." Mulder gritted his teeth and snarled at the world in general.

As Mac and Vic processed Mulder's outburst, two women appeared from the baggage claim area. They both carried slim suitcases, and both appeared to be in a hurry. The one in front, a slender, elegant woman with long red hair and a set of incredibly long, sharp red fingernails, approached Mulder.

"So you are Agent Fox Mulder." She put up her hand and ran her forefinger over Mulder's lower lip and down to his chin. "I'm very pleased to meet you at last. I've been studying your work on conspiracy theory very closely."

"We should go." Victor gestured to the exit and started walking, leaving the others to follow if they wanted to. Mulder moved quickly, trying to catch up with him as he headed for the vehicle.

"Who are these people? What are they doing here? Are they aware that they are going to be in great danger? We can't have hangers on at a raid like this! Their lives could be in jeopardy." He was angry and became even more so as Victor flashed him a very amused grin.

"You don't need to worry about either of them. I'll introduce you properly once we get to the car. LiAnn is deadly in her way, but the Director..." Vic shuddered, leaving his sentence unfinished.

"The Director? Which is the Director? Doesn't she have a name?" Mulder was still mad. Vic, arriving at the car, waited for Mulder to unlock it, and then went around to the trunk to place the ladies' suitcases inside. When he returned, the others were already in the car and had begun to introduce themselves to Mulder. Mulder appeared to be a little stunned.

Vic opened his sheaf of notes and began to go over the information he and Mulder had gleaned during the night. The Director, who had listened without speaking, suddenly brought out a building plan, which she unrolled, spreading it for them to study.

"I just happened to have this with me, and I thought it might prove useful. Coincidentally, Victor, this is the very case I asked you to look into. You couldn't have done better if you'd actually been investigating it." Vic smiled at the compliment before suddenly spotting the veiled insult within. The smile left his face and he tossed his head in irritation.

Mulder had been driving and had remained silent as the four other occupants of his very crowded car bickered. Now, as they arrived at the street where the house they were targeting stood, he held up his hand for silence, and indicated the large gates of the property and the cameras that were trained on those gates. He caught sight of Scully's car, parked a little way down the road, and pulled in behind it. The contingent climbed out of the vehicle, and Scully came up to them, greeting LiAnn with evident delight as she did so.

The morning was still very gloomy, and a fierce wind was blowing the snow into drifts. Mulder had lost the concealment that nighttime would have afforded him and was now very worried indeed. It was just not possible to sneak in snow. The footprints gave you away every damned time. He wondered how the hell they were going to get in unscathed.

Alex:

He was shivering. His cool had long ago deserted him, and all he could do now was imagine the things that were going to happen any moment. He had prayed. He had wept a little, for the first time since his childhood, as he tried once more to find any way of helping Fox to escape this fate. He knew that he was now a goner but wanted to defy the Smoking Man one last time if he could. He could only see images of Fox, lying where he lay right now, waiting for the knife to fall on him. Visions of his Fox, castrated and bleeding, welled up before his mind's eye. Alex Krycek, sometime G-man, triple agent and hired assassin, prayed in as many languages as he knew for the God he no longer believed in to save the only man living or dead that he cared about.

The door opened, and the Smoker entered the room with a smile, pausing to light up his latest cigarette. Alex closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was showtime.

Dana:

She was crouched around the corner from the gates of the mansion they were attempting to raid. She could see the others close by, weapons drawn, and wondered how they would get to the house itself without the cover of night. The early morning light was barely enough to see by, and the drifting snow made it unlikely that anyone would be passing by on a pleasant stroll. She waited.

The woman known as the Director approached the gates very confidently. She wore leather pants that were tightly molded to her slender figure. Long, spike heeled boots and a thick fur jacket made her look very warm as she strode towards the gate.

Pressing the button on the intercom, she spoke confidently to the guard who answered, and following a brief conversation that Dana could not quite hear, the gates opened. The Director sauntered through, pausing just before she got clear of the gates. The guard emerged from his shelter to address the frail looking woman, and the two of them headed towards the shelter. After a few moments, the Director emerged once more and beckoned the party in. As they entered the shed, the gates closed behind them.

Dana looked around the guardhouse and took in the surveillance monitors. She could see two recumbent forms stacked in the corner and was about to go to them when Vic pre-empted her, motioning her back before attacking them with the duct tape, swaddling them in the stuff and grinning as he surveyed his handiwork.

"I go through so many rolls of this stuff. I should buy shares!" He drew his gun and moved over to where the Director was quietly issuing instructions. Mulder suddenly exclaimed and pointed to one monitor, which showed what looked like a medical room. There were people moving to and fro around a table, but what drew Mulder's gaze was a face he knew well standing beside it. It was the man he thought of as Cancerman. He moved closer to the screen, and with a sudden feeling of great horror, he realized that there was a gurney beside the Cancerman, and that on the gurney was a man who looked very much like Alex. Even as they watched, the doctor came forward and removed the sheet that covered him, leaving Mulder in no doubt whatsoever that his lover was being tortured in some way.

She turned away and began to lay out a series of glittering blades on a tray beside Alex's head, and Mulder could stand no more. He made for the door despite Scully's attempts to call him back. With a sigh, the rest of the group followed him, and they ran for the house.

Arriving at the front door, Mac made short work of the lock, and they entered the building. A guard, who had been sitting, dozing beside the front door looked up in astonishment as they entered. Vic hit him behind the ear with his pistol, pausing to wrap a few turns of the ubiquitous duct tape around him before moving to follow the others.

Mulder was running down the corridor, trying doors and flinging them open as he ran. At the end of the corridor there were two staircases, and he came to a stop, unsure where he should go next. Scully caught up with him, and the two of them looked at each other indecisively. Then Li Ann, who had been sorting through the plan of the building, began to climb the stairs. Victor and Mac followed in her wake, and Mulder watched them around the first dogleg before turning to Scully.

"We'd better go down then."

Soberly she nodded her head.

"A wise decision, Agent Mulder." The voice was deep and throaty, and Mulder turned hastily, to see the Director emerging from one of the side rooms, stuffing a bundle of papers into the bag she carried. "Let's go down and check if your friend is there. If the others find him, they'll be able to handle it."

As they started down the stairs, Mulder heard Alex's voice, shouting his name. He turned.

"That was Alex." He spoke flatly.

"Mulder, how can you tell? It could have been Vic. They sound alike." She had descended a few more steps as she spoke, and when a shot suddenly rang out from below, she fired her own weapon. There was a hoarse cry and then silence once more.

"No. It was Alex. He's the only one in the world who actually calls me Fox. He's up that way." They turned and ran up the stairs the way that the others had gone. At the top of the staircase, there was a commotion. What seemed like a large crowd was milling about screaming. Mulder, waving his gun wildly and yelling that he was with the FBI pushed his way through the mass of humanity. The Director was rather more direct. Drawing a pepper spray out of her bag, she proceeded to render anyone in her path helpless and choking. The three agents ran for the room at the back from which most of the commotion seemed to be coming.

Alex:

The doctor had laid out her tools very deliberately. She had washed her hands and donned a surgical mask, above which her oil-filmed eyes were sinister. Then she had left the room for a few minutes, only to return with a large metal container on which Alex could see beads of condensation. She placed the container down beside the table where Alex lay, and then turned to look at the Smoker. He was in the act of lighting up yet another of his cigarettes, and there was a brief pause. Then the Smoker approached Alex once more.

"Well, Mr. Krycek, we appear to have run out of time. Have you arrived at any kind of decision yet? The good doctor is impatient to begin." He smiled benignly, and Alex felt the goose bumps rise on his skin as he observed the man's evil joviality.

"No deal. I won't give you Fox." He felt somehow clean and empty once he had spoken. There was no more now. He had given Fox his last gift. He wondered if Fox would ever know.

He closed his eyes once more and lay, waiting for it all to be over. He felt the table on which he lay shudder a little, and then his legs were being parted even further as they were raised high in the air. He had never felt quite so vulnerable. He concentrated on his mental image of Fox the last time they had made love, hovering over him in the half-light as he cried out Alex's name.

He felt cold moisture being drawn over his testicles and the smell of alcohol told him that the surgery was about to start. He screamed Fox's name out loud and then fell silent. What would be, would be.

The Smoker tossed his cigarette butt onto the linoleum, and turned towards the door without speaking. The doctor came around to the tray to pick up the first of her blades, an evil looking scalpel. Alex felt the blade against the flesh of his perineum, and then suddenly there was a muffled sound. The doctor fell to the floor. At this, the Smoker, who had been opening the door, turned and ran for another door at the other end of the room.

Alex was mystified. He opened his eyes to try and see what was happening and caught sight of a tall, beautiful Asian woman, wearing a kevlar vest and dressed in black. She was occupied at that precise second in beating up one of the guards. Alex suddenly found himself renewing those desperate prayers as he hoped against hope that he was going to be able to get out of there.

Vic:

Vic had by now run out of duct tape and was improvising with the surgical supplies. He and Mac had enjoyed a brief battle with a couple of guards who had felt that they should not pass. Between them, they had accounted for five guards and one woman who appeared to be some kind of lab assistant who had run screeching at them and attempted to dig her fingers into Mac's eyes. Vic had shot her without any compunction, and Mac had flashed him a brief smile as they moved along the corridor.

Bursting into the room where they had seen LiAnn go, they were met by the sight of one comatose guard, one very dead doctor, and no sign of LiAnn. At the other end of the room a door stood open. They both headed for it, but Vic turned back quickly as he heard a moan from the table beside the window.

Mac joined him as they moved swiftly to see what was making the sound. Together, they began freeing up the buckles and Velcro that held the prisoner captive. Mac suddenly froze. "My God, Vic, it's you! Look at him, he's exactly like you. The captive was attempting to sit up. It was obviously very painful for him and Vic was moving forward to help him when Mulder burst into the room. Scully and the Director were behind him, but he didn't stop to wait for them.

As he spied the naked man struggling to sit up on the gurney, Mulder let out a cry and ran to his side. He threw his arms around the reclining man and glued his mouth to him, not heeding the fact that there were others in the room watching with great interest. As Vic watched the two men kissing each other passionately, he felt a twinge of jealousy, and then became aware of a very rapid hardening of his own cock. He felt very strange, watching himself kissing another man.

The two of them had forgotten about bystanders and were engaged in the kind of lover's kiss that Vic could barely recall ever having the opportunity to experience. It was as sexy as all hell, but made him feel sad. He had nobody.

He turned to find Mac eyeing him speculatively.

"What? What's the matter?" He felt unaccountably nervous.

"Nothing's the matter, Victor, it's just...." Mac broke off his speech and grabbed Vic by his shoulders, pulling the surprised man in to envelop him in a kiss every bit as passionate as the one they had been watching. Vic felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as Mac's lips touched his, and his cock, already stiffening at the sight of Mulder and his lover, began to ooze and throb. He moved closer to Mac and allowed his mouth to open under the relentless pressure of Mac's lips.

Dana:

Scully, who had finally entered the room, stood watching the four men, and her expression was one of dismay. She'd found her own version of Alex, and right in front of her eyes he was being stolen. Everyone seemed to have someone except her. The Director stepped forward, placing a caressing hand on Dana's shoulder.

"My dear Dana, you look a little upset. Don't be. You were only going to get second best with Victor, wasn't she, Li Ann?" Dana felt the long fingernails lightly scraping the skin on the back of her neck.

Li Ann came to stand on her other side, putting her hand up to stroke Dana's hair.

"Oh, yes. The Director is always right. There are far more things to enjoy than just plain white bread!"

Part 6: Just For one Day.

Category/Rated: NC-17

Summary: A codicil to "The Devil Makes Work". Alex and Fox enjoy a rare gentle moment after their ordeal.

Beta: Thanks to Orithain for very speedy beta.

They'd found him some clothes, and Mulder had driven him home. Mulder had wanted to take him to the hospital, but he'd flatly refused to go, saying that he was fine. All he wanted to do was forget about the humiliation of his experience.

Despite the fascination everyone seemed to find in the resemblance between himself and Victor, he couldn't seem to summon up any energy or enthusiasm for an extended meeting with Vic. He just wanted to go home with Mulder and hold him.

The Canadians said goodbye and arranged to meet up with them the following evening for a farewell dinner. Mulder watched as Mac and Vic departed, walking very close together. Knowing that the two of them had just discovered their feelings for each other, he felt a certain amount of excitement on their behalf, thinking of the evening ahead of them as they discovered each other for the first time.

Scully, LiAnn and the Director had waved and then piled into Scully's car, taking off after only brief good-byes. Now he and Alex were alone at last and on their way back to Mulder's apartment. Alex sat quietly in the passenger's seat, and Mulder was worried about him. He appeared to be in shock, and his color was very pale. Mulder put out a hand and caressed the back of his lover's neck. As he did so he felt Alex flinch and mentally cursed the evil man who had caused this to happen. He pulled smoothly into his parking spot and climbed out of the car. Alex didn't move, and after a few minutes Mulder sighed and moved round to open his door.

"Come on, love, we're home." The other man sat there, staring blankly into space. "Alex, come on. Let's go in." He bent and took Alex's hand, and Alex allowed himself to be pulled from the car. Together, they went into the building and headed for apartment 42.

Once inside, Alex appeared to relax a little bit, and after coats and shoes had been put away, Mulder had turned to Alex, opening his arms as the other man moved hesitantly into his embrace. They stood for long moments, Mulder stroking the length of his lover's back as Alex rested his head on Mulder's shoulder.

"Love, I was so worried about you. I thought I'd lost you." Mulder's voice was gruff as he choked back the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him. He could feel Alex trembling in his arms as the other man clung to him. He stood, arms folded around his man as he offered him whatever comfort he could.

Alex stayed in the circle of Mulder's arms, clutching him tightly, head pressed against his shoulder. He was rigid, and Mulder could sense his distress. He made soothing noises and laid his mouth against the fine hairs on the back of his lover's neck, gently nibbling the skin there as he did so. Slowly, he felt Alex relax a little, and as Mulder rocked him gently from side to side, Alex finally gave a sigh and raised his head to place his lips onto Mulder's. There were a few seconds when Mulder wondered whether he should kiss him back or hold off. While he did so Alex uttered a choking sob and opened his mouth, kissing Mulder with intensity that bordered on the desperate.

The feel of Alex pressing up against him as their hands clutched wildly and their tongues dueled together made Mulder groan. Alex seemed to go from passive to desperate in the blink of an eye. As he strained against Mulder, it appeared as though Alex had never felt quite so afraid. Mulder could see that he felt violated, abused. He seemed to have (at least temporarily) lost the confidence that had always been his trademark and was suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable.

"I've missed you so much. I thought I was going to die without ever seeing you again." The whisper was breathy, husky and immediate. Mulder felt an answering jolt pass through the center of him as his body responded to his lover's need.

"Come on, Alex, let's get you cleaned up." Mulder reluctantly peeled his clinging lover from him and took his hand, leading him into the bathroom where he turned to face Alex. Gently peeling off the other man's clothes, he turned on the shower and pushed him under the warm spray, then began to shed his own garments in order to follow him in.

Alex stood under the torrent of water, face turned upwards, allowing it to beat on his skin as he relaxed slowly. When Mulder stepped in behind him, he leaned back onto him, wriggling lasciviously as their bodies touched. Mulder put his arms around Alex, employing a soapy sponge on him as he did so, and letting his head droop until he could apply his lips to Alex's throat. Alex sighed and lay back against Mulder, allowing him free rein over his body.

The days of incarceration had left Alex with a heavy growth of beard and it felt scratchy on Mulder's cheek as he nuzzled Alex's neck. He ran his soapy hands busily over Alex, washing away the sweat and grime of his incarceration. Alex, silent up until now, suddenly turned towards him and grabbed hold of him, uttering a sentence in Russian as he did so, and then kissing him as if his life depended on it.

The water ran down their faces and bodies, adding its own caress to tease their nerve endings. Alex's hand cupped the back of his lover's head, pressing him into the kiss as Alex's tongue sought out the sensitive interior of the mouth he was exploring. Their bodies slid over each other, slick with the feel of soap. Mulder slid his hands slowly down to cup Alex's ass, pulling him in close so that their rapidly hardening erections were pressed one against the other. He gave a happy sigh as they contested with each other, laughing softly into Alex's mouth as the other man moaned and writhed, attempting to get closer.

Finally, turning off the water, Mulder groped for towels, wrapping one around Alex and drying him off tenderly. He knelt, kissing and licking around the inside of Alex's thighs. His groin seemed strangely childlike where the hair had been shaved away, but there was nothing childish in the way Alex offered his penis to Mulder's mouth.

Mulder extended his tongue to flick it around the head of the cock in front of him. He could taste the sweetness of Alex's skin overlaid with the salt bite of the droplets of fluid that were oozing from the tiny slit. He gripped it in one hand, his other passing behind Alex to sink into his ass cheeks, pulling him forward towards his teasing mouth.

Circling it with his lips, he swirled his tongue over the head of it, paying loving attention to the sensitive ridge that ran around it, and chuckling again at the sound of Alex's gasps. As Alex began to buck and thrust in an attempt to press right into his lover's mouth, Mulder pulled off, holding his lips just out of reach, teasing and probing the sensitive end with his tongue until Alex cried out and gripped his hair. Mulder laughed out loud at Alex's yell of anguish and leaned forward briefly to suck hard on his cock before letting go of it once more and rising to his feet.

"You haven't finished yet, you know! You need to shave. I'll get whisker burns if you stay like that!" Alex sighed again, and turning to the sink, began the process of scraping the whiskers from his chin. He finally finished, rinsing his face in cold water and smoothing on a little lotion. Mulder, who had remained behind him watching the process, stepped forward and slipped his arms around him once again, tongue working on the back of his neck, as his busy fingers sought out his nipples, playfully rolling and tweaking them.

Alex let his head fall back onto Mulder's shoulder once again as he luxuriated in the sweet sensations he was experiencing. He reached behind him for Mulder's cock. It stood straight and tall, and Alex took hold of it, squeezing as he worked his hand up and down over the velvet skin that covered the hard shaft beneath. Mulder groaned and moved his mouth over to attack the sensitive curls and convolutions of Alex's ear, running the tip of his tongue around inside until Alex shivered.

Together they left the bathroom and headed for their bedroom, pausing once in the doorway when Alex pulled Mulder in to his embrace, kissing each other breathless as they came together. Arriving in the bedroom, Mulder laid Alex out on the bed and stood back to take inventory of his lover. Alex, who had been very silent until now, finally decided to speak.

"They were going to castrate me. They said they would do the same to you. You have to be careful, Fox! Don't let them get to you. I couldn't bear it if they hurt you." Alex's voice was tense, and his face reflected his anger and distress.

Mulder, who had heard him out in silence, climbed onto the bed beside him and took him in his arms, rocking him gently and trying as best he could to sooth his distressed lover. Gradually, he felt Alex relax as tension began to drain away. He slowly rolled to cover Alex, feeling their two erections hard against each other, and as they ground their hips together. Mulder gazed down at his lover, thinking that he was still a little passive and wondering how to help him recover his confidence.

Alex was lying, eyes closed and chest heaving as he felt himself rushing towards orgasm. Already, Mulder, looking at him, could feel the sharp stabs of pleasure radiating from his cock, through his balls and into the pit of his stomach. It wouldn't take long. Mulder shuddered as he contemplated nameless tortures inflicted on the man he loved. Determined to make the most of the time they had left before the horror he was sure would come, he slid his hand around Alex's neck to pull his mouth down, and gently at first, then with increasing passion, they kissed.

He could feel Alex's lips pressing against his, and his tongue thrust in to run over the sensitive ridge behind his teeth, finding Alex's's tongue and sucking on it. He moaned. As they finally pulled back from their kiss, he knew that he could not wait any longer.

"Fox, fuck me, please. I need to feel you inside me right now. I need you, Fox." Alex spoke in a whisper, but Mulder responded instantly, groping for lubricant and applying it to his fingers, while Alex licked along his neck from collarbone to chin, nipping the loose flesh with sharp, white teeth and leaving small contusions in his wake.

Moving down between Alex's legs, Mulder began to touch the crevice between his ass cheeks, stroking with sticky, slippery fingers as he felt for the small puckered site that would open for him. He ducked his head and licked around Alex's balls, feeling the unusual sensation of the perfectly smooth, hairless sacs in his mouth. He played there for a moment, relishing Alex's moans as he sucked them gently into his mouth and swept his tongue over them, feeling them tighten under his ministrations. He moved down to explore Alex's perineum, listening to his lover's gasping breaths. He laughed as Alex desperately clawed at him, trying to get what he craved most, and then moved further down, parting his cheeks to reveal the opening between, stiffening his tongue and pushing it home. Alex whimpered and jerked as Mulder tongue-fucked him.

Trading tongue for fingers, Mulder slowly inserted his slippery digit into Alex's tight ass, twisting and sliding it in and out, knowing when he finally touched Alex's prostate because he cried out "Oh, God, Fox!" and thrashed his head from side to side wildly.

Mulder could see that Alex was very close indeed to the edge, and he was getting there himself. The sight of his lover helpless with desire as he did all the things he could think of was making his belly go into meltdown. Pulling himself up to his knees, he lifted Alex's legs to lay them over his shoulders, and slicking up his cock, he placed it at Alex's opening, sliding the head in past the tight sphincter muscle until he was buried in the hot, liquid silk of his tight channel.

Alex was arched backwards, teeth sunk into his lip as he stared blindly up at his lover. The sight of him made Mulder's head swim, and he paused, eyes shut as he attempted to hold off the threads of ecstasy that were spilling into his abdomen. Mulder began to move slowly, feeling the pulse and throb of Alex's excitement echoed in his own sensations. Rapidly he found himself pounding away, restraint forgotten as he drove into the man he loved.

Alex was whimpering now, incoherent cries urging him onward as they sliced though his senses like razor blades, leaving the keen edge of absolute pleasure behind. He grabbed Alex's cock, and jerked it as he thrust, sensations building inside until he wanted to scream. He looked at Alex lying spread beneath him, and each cry, each gasp and moan from his lover brought him closer to the edge. He could feel his orgasm begin to bite down, and his movements became more spastic and jerky by the second.

Alex, who had closed his eyes as he sank into the eroticism of the moment, suddenly gave a great cry, and Mulder could feel his flesh tighten and pulse as he came, spurting the evidence of his orgasm up against Mulder's belly as he convulsed once, twice, three times. His semen shot as he lay, bathed in sweat, exhausted, but unable to look away from Mulder as he finally emptied himself deep inside his lover's flesh. Mulder fell forward helplessly and lay, head pillowed on Alex's chest, too weak to move.

After a short time punctuated only by gasping and groaning, Mulder summoned up the energy to separate himself from Alex, and rolled to take him in his arms.

"Fox, thank you for coming to my rescue. I never thought I'd see you again. You're my hero." He gave a small grin. "You're my knight in shining Armani."

Mulder raised his head to look reproachfully at Alex but soon dropped his head back down to Alex's shoulder once more, letting the absolute relaxation of afterglow take him.

"Who is your all-time hero?" He tilted his head to look up at Alex, hazel meeting intense green as they gazed at each other. Alex's eye contact was intense; he appeared to be drinking in the sight of his lover, memorizing every nuance and every slight change and flicker of expression. Mulder rolled his head in to run his tongue over Alex's neck. There was a pause, and Mulder thought Alex was not going to answer, but as Mulder was just beginning to drift off into a warm place somewhere between waking and sleeping, he heard Alex speak.

"Fox, did you ever watch the Roadrunner? You know, the cartoon?" Mulder nodded, then raised his head again to look at Alex, amused, and unsure where this apparent non sequitur was leading.

"Sure I did! Still do when I get the chance. I don't know anyone who wouldn't laugh at him. Why?" Mulder rolled over to lie on his belly, propping himself up on his elbows and cupping his chin in his hand. His other hand moved to touch Alex's lips, stroking gently as the other man thought.

"Well, when I think about all the stuff that's happened to me, I think there's only one thing I can possibly choose as my hero." Alex had a dreamy smile on his face as Fox's nimble fingers wandered over his face.

"You mean the Roadrunner?" Fox's brow was furrowed as he attempted to work out how the cocky bird could have heroic tendencies, even for someone as unusual as Alex.

"No, not the Roadrunner, that Coyote guy that stalks him all the time. He's almost exactly like me. Watch him! He tries and tries to catch that damned bird, and he sometimes comes close, but he never actually manages it. He gets beat up, hit with huge objects, dropped off cliffs and exploded, but he never gives up. He just takes his lickin' and keeps on tickin'! Just like the ads! I really identify with that poor animal." Alex was smiling, and the sight of him made Mulder feel very protective.

"Alex Krycek, alias Wile E. Coyote! Yeah, I can see the resemblance!" Mulder dropped to cover Alex's mouth with his, and for a moment they shared a tender kiss, with only moist sounds and faint rustling to break the silence in the room. Finally, with a sigh they drew apart.

"How about you, Fox? Who do you look up to?" Alex was beginning to recover from his post coital slump of exhaustion now and shifted to cradle the other man so that his head rested on Alex's shoulder.

"I've never really thought about it before, Baby. Hmmm. Let me see. When I was a kid, it was always Han Solo. He was tough, rough, cute and a winner. Now, I have to say that I no longer want to marry Princess Leia. Han's a pretty cool guy though!" Alex giggled as he pictured Mulder, fending off stormtroopers with Leia at his back.

"You'd lose your gun! The hairstyle would suit you though!" Mulder made an exasperated sound.

"Here I am, baring my soul to you, and all you can do is mock me. Well, I've got news for you, Mr. Coyote, you're in for some serious pain any minute." He turned in the embrace of his drowsy partner and began to tickle him, persisting until Alex was writhing and screaming in his attempts to dislodge the insistent Mulder.

Finally, Mulder relaxed, allowing Alex to break free from his grip and then snuggled back into him, pulling his arm around him and nuzzling his lips across Alex's chest.

"You know, I think I have a new hero. You know I kinda like Jesse 'The Body' Ventura. He's a clever guy, and he doesn't need a gun! He cuts through the government bullshit in a most satisfactory way." As Mulder finished this careful speech, Alex quirked an amused eyebrow at him.

"So are you gonna body slam me now?" He seemed fairly content to accept his fate as Mulder moved to cover him.

"I'll save that for later, baby; what I have in mind is a new variation on a body press and pin." There was no further talking as the two lovers moved together to try for one fall, one submission or a knock out to decide the winner."

end...

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