TITLE: Caccia alla volpe (Catch the fox)

AUTHOR: Taffeelatte

PAIRING: Mulder/Krycek

RATING: PG-13

STATUS: New

SERIES: WIP

CATEGORY: Slash, AU, UST, Adventure

SPOILERS: None

ARCHIVE: Yes

SUMMARY: What would've happened, if bad boy Mulder and good guy Krycek met back in the 1920s? Think pulp magazines.

Disclaimer: All X-Files characters are property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Network. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from the use of these characters.

General notes: I've been lurking on a few lists for some time now and I've really enjoyed reading all the stories posted there. So I've finally decided to come out of hiding and contribute as well.
I will post the individual parts whenever I find the time to write them. Although the story's long finished and filed away in my head, I've yet to find the time to sit down and actually write the thing. This is my first slash story ever so please don't tar and feather me.

Story notes: Alex's soul maybe torn, but his body his fully intact and that includes his arms.

Caccia alla volpe (Catch the fox)
by Taffeelatte


"I really need to talk to him." I glared at the bulky thug who tried to block my way into the nightclub.

"What makes you think that a man like Mr. Mulderanto would talk to a roach like you?" The heavy sneered at me.

Good question that. I had asked myself the same thing a hundred times over in the last few days. But Fox "La Volpe" Mulderanto, ruling mob boss of Philadelphia, was my last hope.

So I ignored the sneer of the man in front of me stoically. A few weeks ago I wouldn't have bothered with that garbage in human disguise. I would've shoved my badge which identified me as an honorable agent of the Bureau of Investigation under his nose and would've simply walked into the club. That was a few weeks ago. Now I actually had to talk to this jerk.

"Mr. Mulderanto told me that if I needed to I could talk to him. My name's Krycek, Alex K-r-y-c-e-k."

Would the palooka get that? I could see him digesting the information and mulling it over in his one brain cell. I could be a con, yes, but if I wasn't and he went against Mr. Mulderanto's wishes he might be in deep shit. He finally came to a decision.

"You wait here. I'll go and talk to Tony."

*Yeah, just do that and make it quick.*

I waited at the side-entrance of the nightclub 'Chez Cesare'. Quite a fancy name for a liquor joint. Although I had to admit that it was a pretty up-market one. Since I had been standing here I had seen one big black limo after the other pull up in front of the main entrance and the whole upper crust of Philadelphia waltz into the club. The women dressed in figure hugging shiny satin dresses, only partly visible under their long fur coats. The men with gelled back hair and in elegant tuxedos.

All I could afford was a crumpled suit. Being on the nut did bad things to your wardrobe choice.

To think that only six weeks ago I was a special agent with the Bureau of Investigation. I liked the work. Becoming a member of the BI was a dream come true. Until it turned into a nightmare. They framed me but by the time I'd realized that, it was too late.

During the course of an investigation I'd found out a few things about Senator Whiteshawn. He wasn't only a highbinder, nope, he liked his girls young, extremely young. What I didn't find out was that he had connections. High up connections. I should've never touched the case. But with typical Krycek stubbornness I dug right into it and I dug deep. So they got rid of me the dirty way. Set me up and made me look like the guilty party.

My boss told me I had one hour to leave the Bureau and that I was lucky that I didn't end up in the slammer. But the senator wasn't happy with just having me kicked out of the Bureau. He wanted my ass. When I returned from the Bureau to my apartment, only to be told by my landlord that I had to move out 'pronto' I should've been warned. I wasn't. At that time I though it would be easy for a young, able man to find a job. I had been a copper so I tried the Shop, but of course they didn't want me back. I tried security, sales work, anything. It took me six long weeks to realize that I was finished in this city. I'd never get a job. I was tainted. Whiteshawn made sure of that.

Now I was running low on cash and self-esteem. I was tired of sleeping in the flophouse. It was full of disgusting old boozehounds who couldn't keep their dirty hands to themselves. Their leering and jeering got to me more and more each night and I hadn't had a full nights sleep for at least a week. I really needed to get a job. Any job. That's when I remembered Fox Mulderanto.

I had met him last Christmas at a big charity party. I went there with my then girlfriend, Alyss. Her folks were old money. They never understood why she went out with a Polack from the wrong side of town, but what Alyss wanted she usually got. And back then she wanted me. At least that's what I thought.

Unlike Alyss I wasn't that thrilled to go to the party. In fact I couldn't care less, but one has to keep a dame happy, so Alyss' father grudgingly secured us an invitation. Anybody who's anybody
was there. Plenty of fat old business tycoons and their pretty, far too young wives who eyed me up unabashedly. Politicians and society ladies. And of course the families with connections.

It was Mulderanto's party. The money collected that night would go to a children's hospital. Nice touch that. Mulderanto had provided the food, the drinks, and the entertainment. Only the best, of
course.

A table in the middle of the club was reserved for Mulderanto and his company. Sipping on my champagne I idly watched their table which was just a few feet away from where Alyss and I were standing. A few select guests, who were obviously considered important enough to dine with what could truly be called the real power in Philadelphia, were seated at the table. I recognized the mayor and his wife as well as Ariel Riebenstein, a wealthy banker.

Then I noticed Mulderanto for the first time. Gee, he was a real eye-catcher. Tall, slim, elegant, and young. I'd always pictured him to be plump, greasy looking and old. No way. This Fox Mulderanto was a very attractive man. Next to him sat an exotic looking woman. She wasn't your average bleached, blonde bimbo. That babe had class. Dark hair down to her waist, pale skin, huge green eyes framed by dark long lashes, sensuous mouth. She looked familiar. I didn't make
the connection until Alyss, who was standing next to me, let out her breath audibly.

"Alex, just look at that woman over there. She could be your twin."

Matter of fact she could. It was eerie, but I looked at the female version of the face I saw each morning in the mirror. She even had my nose. I simply hate my nose. Had it deliberately broken in a fight once just to get rid of that damn 'cute' tilt, but unfortunately it had healed just fine.

Mulderanto must have felt us staring and looked into our direction. For a brief moment he seemed every bit as surprised as us at the likeness then he simply smiled at us and turned around to the next table on which four men where seated. Hired muscle and the bulges in their suits told me they were packing. One of them got up and walked over to where Alyss and I were standing.

"Mr. Mulderanto would like to meet you," the man said with a strong Italian accent.

Needless to say that it was an order, not an invitation. Alyss and I went over to Mulderanto's table. He got up. Made the introductions. The exotic beauty was a Miss La Lunette. We all sat down. Mulderanto had a soft, somewhat flat voice. Not the trace of an accent. He sounded more like Philly aristocracy than Alyss ever would. We made small talk.

"Well, Mr. Krycek, the similarity between you and Coco is just amazing. You're sure you're not related?"

I just smiled for lack of a witty answer.

"Darling, don't embarrass Mr. Krycek," La Lunette saved me with amusement in her voice.

I could've sworn she was winking at me. And judging from Alyss' frown she must've noticed it too. I knew that Alyss thought little of women like Coco La Lunette. They just didn't fit her small, neat, bourgeois world.

The conversation turned to more mundane topics.

Mulderanto sure was not your average mobster. Educated, intelligent, witty. I enjoyed talking to him nearly as much as looking at him. And look at him I did. Close up I couldn't help but notice his eyes. Deep warm hazel eyes with a zest and sparkle in them that was irresistible. Oh, I've read about wanting to drown in somebody's eyes, but I always thought that just happened in stupid romance dime novels. But every time Mulderanto looked at me I felt like a thousand butterflies were dancing fox-trot in my belly. I had last felt like that when I was about 13. How could a complete stranger make me feel that way ten years later? Luckily Mulderanto seemed oblivious to my cow-eyed admiration.

After a little while I got up to dance with La Lunette.

"How do you know Mr. Mulderanto, Miss La Lunette?"

"You can call me Coco. All my friends do. And I'm sure we'll become good friends," she flirted. "Mulder won't like it, but I'll tell you anyway. He saved me from my boyfriend. Phil used to beat me up regularly. Now I dance in one of Mulder's clubs. You're shocked Mr. Krycek?"

I wasn't. She probably was a hell of a dancer and her boyfriend was a stupid fool to mistreat a classy girl like that.

"Mulder?"

"Nobody calls him Fox. His friends call him Mulder, short for Mulderanto. He likes you."

I looked at her unsure whether I heard her right or not.

"I'm not kidding. I know that look in his eyes. You're just his type."

I didn't know what to say. I thought it best to ignore her remark and the meaning behind it.

"Oh I'm sorry Alex, I can call you Alex can't I, now I've really shocked you."

She didn't though. These were the 20's after all. Besides I have always been attracted to both men and women. But as a copper it was something you didn't talk about and in the BI it would've been sheer career suicide to admit to being interested in men.

Therefor my experiences with men were rather limited. Limited to two men in fact. One was Steven my sergeant in the Shop and the other was the biggest mistake ever. Luigio Cardinale, a stool pigeon, whom I first met when I worked as a patrol officer. He was a slimy little weasel, the epitome of sleaze but I didn't see it then. He showed me how hot it could be between two men and for that I fell in love, or more accurately in lust, with him.

Where Steven was shy and naive like me, Luigio was bold and aggressive. He was addictive, like ersatzsugar, a forbidden fruit I just had to taste. But I caught diarrhea fast enough. After we'd
been seeing each other for a few weeks he threatened to rat about our affair to my boss. Unless I made it worth his while not to say anything. He knew I had no money so he asked for payment in 'natural goods'. Spend some quality time with some of his friends for instance. I refused and he snitched on me to Steven, not knowing that we'd been involved.

Lucky for me my ex-lover told Luigio in no uncertain terms what he thought of black-mail. That it would be easy to turn the tables and that he wouldn't hesitate to circulate the fact that Luigio was an informer. Luigio backed off. I never saw or heard of him again.

The band finished the song and we went back to the table. Just when we got back Alyss and Mulderanto got up to dance. He was a good dancer and moved with an effortless elegance. His graceful body was just made for dancing. I was mesmerized. When I looked at Coco she smiled at me knowingly. That woman simply saw too much, it was unnerving.

After Alyss and Mulderanto returned to the table we talked some more. We talked into the small hours of the morning in fact. Finally Alyss and I got up to bide our leave. Mulderanto looked at me with those expressive hazel eyes of his.

"It was a pleasure making your acquaintance Mr. Krycek and I do hope we meet again. If you need my assistance in anything just let me know".

Three months later Alyss ditched me for a more suitable admirer. A millionaire 25 years her senior. Her parting words "you didn't really expect me to marry you, did you?" cut deep. At the same time I joined the Bureau of Investigation. I lost myself in the work until that fateful day I came across the Whiteshawn case.

And that's how I ended up standing in front of one of Mulderanto's clubs abasing myself before his watchdogs.

Mr. Beefy returned. He looked slightly subdued, but he just opened the door for me and I walked in ahead of him. Inside there was a second hood. He frisked me quickly and efficiently. They led me along a dimly lit corridor and then up a squeaky old staircase. In the distance I could hear faint noises coming from the nightclub. Goon number one knocked on a wooden door at the end of the staircase. The door was opened from the inside by another thug.

Mulderanto sat at a huge oak desk. In front of him sat a tall, muscular, balding man with glasses. A third man stood by the window. All three of them completely ignored our entry.

"Listen Skinnetti," Mulderanto's voice was icy venom as he addressed the man facing him, "I want that Spender problem solved once and for all. Nobody trespasses my territory. And you know full well what I think of underage prostitution. So tell that slimy little pimp to go back to the rock he crawled under from. Use any measures you think might be necessary."

Mulderanto nodded curtly at the man in front of him. It was an obvious dismissal. Skinnetti got up. Still ignoring me he left the room through a second door.

Mulder turned to me with a cordial smile. "Mr. Krycek, I'm pleased to see you again. Do have a seat."

The transformation from ice-cold mobster to jovial gentleman was frightening. I wondered which of the two the real Mulderanto was.

"What can I do for you?"

With a quick sideways glance at the blond man by the window I looked back at Mulderanto.

"Oh, this is Mr. Langley. He does my bookkeeping."

I'd heard of the infamous Mr. Langley. A Yale graduate who was a wizard with numbers. So far he'd managed to keep Mulderanto's' tax returns spotlessly clean and thus Mulderanto out of trouble with the law, much to the dismay of the BI.

Mulderanto looked expectantly at me, so I opted for the direct approach.

"I need a job, Mr. Mulderanto."

"Why do you think I should give you a job?" was his equally blunt answer.

"I told you that I used to be a police officer. I could do security work for you."

Mulderanto smiled thinly his handsome face inscrutable. "I've got enough muscle for that."

"Yeah, but I got brains as well."

"Obviously not enough brains to know when to back off." So he knew that I had been fired. That was strange.

"Oh, that. Suited me just fine. I wanted to make a career move anyway."

"So you call sleeping in the flophouse a career advancement?"

"You gonna give me a job, or not?"

"Don't get hasty. You got any credentials besides getting fired from the Bureau?"

Come to think of it I didn't. I had been to high school and then joined the police force. It was my lieutenant who'd suggested applying for the BI. I did and I got in. Not much of a life, but it had worked fine for me.

Mulderanto got up. "Don't worry, I actually do have a job for you."

He went to the door through which Skinnetti had left and motioned for me to follow him. Langley hadn't said anything during our conversation. He had stood by the window and now moved over to the desk, our eyes met. His eyes were baby blue. His blond hair was a tiny bit too long for a man, his features a bit too soft. He had daisy written all over him. I wondered what the relationship between Mulderanto and him exactly was.

I followed Mulderanto out of the room. We went down another dark and dingy staircase. I thought we would go into the nightclub, but we came out through another back door and stepped out into a dark alleyway.

Maybe I had made a big mistake. Mulderanto didn't strike me as a man easily fooled. He knew nothing about me. I could be what I told him I was, an ex-agent who got the push. But I could also be a fraud he needed to get rid of quick.

We walked to the end of the alleyway, towards a parked car. A man leaned casually against the car door and moved to stand to attention when we approached him. Mulderanto only nodded and the driver opened the door for us. Just as we were climbing into the car I could hear a commotion coming from the other side of the street. A man was gesticulating wildly and running towards the car. I don't know what made me shout "Mulder down!" but I did.

I shoved Mulderanto, who was in the process of climbing into the car, down onto the pavement. As we hit the ground, me falling on top of him, I heard the shots. Two shots. The first one hit the driver and I saw him go down. The second smashed the car's right front light. Then silence. I knew the guy must be standing in front of the car, obviously waiting for us to get up. Mulderanto had turned around and lay facing me. I was still covering most of his body. To my immense shame I felt myself getting aroused. Not my usual reaction when I was just about to get shot. Mulderanto looked up, no expression on his face.

"Don't move" he whispered. Surely, he wasn't enjoying this too? Carefully he wormed his hand between our bodies and with one swift movement he got out a .45. When he fired the shot right next to my ear I thought I was gonna go deaf. Cold arrogant smile at me.

"You can get up now. If you want that is".

What the hell... I was glad that the alley was so dark as I could feel a heated flush crawling up my face. Trying to hide my embarrassment I turned around and managed to scramble up. The man who'd caused all the commotion was lying face down in the grass. Dead. He must've walked around the back of the car and I hadn't even heard him. And what was I to make of Mulderanto's last remark? Mulderanto had gotten up as well and walked towards the dead man.

"Stupid sucker" he said and put another bullet into the corpse. I just stood there dumbfounded.

"Eh, Nicky, Andy come here and get the mess cleaned up. And get us another car".

Suddenly the alley was full with men hurrying to obey Mulderanto's orders. A new car pulled up out of nowhere. We sat in it not five minutes after a man had been shot.

I turned to Mulderanto who seemed pretty unfazed by all the action.

"Care to tell me who that was? Why did he try to shoot you? Why'd you kill him?" God, my voice was actually trembling. But I had just seen a man being shot and although I'd been a copper I'd never witnessed a killing.

I was surprised to get an answer.

"That punk claimed that I've kidnapped his sister. He was totally spooky. Thought that I'm a Martian in human disguise and that I've come here to destroy earth. I'm supposedly kidnapping people to take back with me to Mars to enslave them. And why I killed him? Well, I would call it self-defense. Wouldn't you?"

His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief and I wasn't sure if he was lying or not, but whatever grudge the man had held against Mulderanto had died with him. And then it finally hit me. Maybe this had been my 'job'. To be a witness to Mulderanto shooting a man in *self-defense.* The first shot might've been just that, but the second was nothing but an execution of an, albeit dead, man.

So there I was sitting in a car with a cold blooded murderer and all I could think was that he was the best looking man I'd ever met. Pathetic.

"You saved my live Alex, I can call you Alex, right? I owe you."

I nodded. Looking for a new job seemed one of my smaller problems now.

"Where are we going, Mulder ... ah, Mr. Mulderanto?"

"Just Mulder please. We're going to my place. I'm hungry and I could do with a drink. Don't you?"

Again I could only nod. I felt at a complete loss as what to do or say next. Just half an hour ago I would've called myself an upright, law-abiding citizen. Hell, six weeks ago I *represented* the law. Now everything had changed. I couldn't help it but I was falling for a criminal and I was falling hard. And you know what? I couldn't care less.

The End