HOPE 3

By Jennie

Disclaimer: Not mine - more's the pity. *sigh*

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek and Mulder/Skinner implied - Skinner/Krycek later

Rating: P - PG so far

Archive: Yeahsureyoubetcha

Spoilers: Post series. No spoilers, per say - and, as always I'm deep in denial! Krycek is NOT dead. NONONONONO!!!

Notes: A shameless PWP, which has now become a series. Written for the Lyric Wheel –

Endings round. For Jose, Peach and Urs.

Website: Jennie's Place

Summary: Eh... well... AU, I guess. Somehow, Skinner and Krycek find their way into a relationship. Thanks to Mulder. <g>

Beta: ... the incomparable Josan.

HOPE 3

By Jennie

That first dinner was a little... strange. The original plan was coffee, if I remember correctly. Yeah, coffee. And I was headed for a privately owned coffee house I liked when it happened. His stomach growled. Now, I know that's not such an unusual thing. After all, neither of us had eaten anything at Mulder's. We were both too busy staying out of the way, trying to avoid...

Well, no need to go into all that much detail.

But, like I said, his stomach rumbled.

Mine responded in kind.

Then he snickered.

Which was pretty much when things changed. Or, maybe it was when I looked over at him and saw an embarrassed tide of red coloring on his face. I'm not sure. But, somehow, it all just seemed easier after that. Maybe because, for the first time, he seemed human. That cold, invulnerable facade of his faded into an actual human being. One that shared all the foibles the rest of us endured.

I hadn't even realized that I didn't think of him as having normal human motivations and needs. Not too surprising, I suppose, when one considers our history. He killed me, for godssake. Not to be outdone, I returned the favor some years later. In the end, we'd made a kind of peace. More for Mulder's sake than anything else.

Which, when you think about it, is pretty damned odd. We should have been at each others' throats over him. But, by then, it was obvious that Scully and William were going to be Mulder's future. Leaving us with nothing, really.

Except, as it turned out, each other. Only took us seven years to figure that one out.

Instead of the coffee place, I pulled up in front of my favorite Jewish deli. "C'mon, Krycek. Let's eat."

Without argument, he followed me in. Proceeded to charm the hostess into giving us a booth in the middle of the dinner rush. Unheard of. Hell, I'd been eating in the place for well over fifteen years and she'd never once given any group a table larger than necessary. Something about Krycek's roughened voice, brilliant smile, and fluttering lashes seemed to reach a girlish part of her that I'd never even suspected could possibly exist.

I hadn't quite recovered from the sight of Miriam blushing like a teenager under Krycek's approving grin, when the waiter approached our table. "What would you like to drink tonight?" he asked me.

I ordered my usual scotch, and Harold turned to Krycek. "For you, sir?"

Krycek lowered his eyelashes, looking up at the waiter through those sinfully long lashes of his. He licked his lips and managed to look oh-so-innocent. "Vodka, please. And, it's Alex."

Harold blinked. Coughed. Shuffled his feet. Then he smiled shyly back. "Yes, s- ah, Alex."

I did what any normal man would do under the circumstances. I kicked Krycek in the shin. Worked, too. Harold was forgotten as Krycek turned an incredibly innocent and questioning gaze upon me.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, leaning down to rub at his injured leg.

"Kid's not in your league yet, Krycek. Leave him alone."

The 'kid' snorted and drew himself up. I glanced up into the deeply offended blue eyes of my favorite nephew. "Go get our drinks, Harold." He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off, "Don't sass me, boy. Go on now."

Krycek watched him depart with measuring eyes. "Looks plenty old enough to me."

"He's twenty years old, Krycek."

That gained me a smirk. "Like I said, plenty old en-"

"He's also my younger sister's son."

"Shit."

"Exactly."

He raised his hand in a disarming gesture. "Didn't mean anything, old man. It's just... "

"I know exactly what 'it' is, Krycek. I've watched you do it for years, but the game's over now, so can it. We're here to talk, remember? Or was that just a convenient excuse for Scully's sake?"

"No." He shrugged uncomfortably. "No, it wasn't. This is just a little strange, you know?"

I snorted. "Tell me about it."

Harold returned with our drinks and took our food order, shooting me reproving looks the whole time. Once he'd left, Krycek gave me a 'see-I-can-behave' expression.

Yeah, right.

"So, tell me, Krycek, what are you doing with yourself out in LA?"

He swallowed the knee-jerk smartass comment I could see lurking in his eyes, and shrugged. "Private security."

"Assassin to the stars?" I sneered.

"Something like that."

"You like it?"

After draining his drink, Krycek gave a noncommittal smile. "It's a living." He looked at me for a moment, then asked what I was doing these days.

"Writing."

Eyebrows raised, he waited for more information. I hesitated, then decided to elaborate. "I edit and write for Quantico - procedural manuals, textbooks, that kind of thing."

"And in your free time?" he asked.

"The usual... I exercise, do yard work, and try to attend family gatherings."

"And, Mulder and Scully, are they part of this 'family' you spend time with?"

"I turn up there often enough to keep me on Scully's good side," I answered reluctantly. "But, like you said, it hurts."

"I really never saw that one coming, you know. I mean, after how many years of being partners, they're suddenly the all-American family? Four kids?" He shook his head in confusion, then grinned wryly. "Long way from you and me to *her*."

Ah. An opening I'd not been expecting presented itself. "Krycek... you and Mulder... when... I mean, how long... I mean-"

"Was he doing us both at the same time?"

I nodded, then waited to hear the answer with mingled dread and curiosity.

"I was with him on and off from the beginning. The last time we were together was just before his abduction. So, yeah, he was bouncing back and forth between us."

Damn. "And that didn't bother you?" I asked him incredulously.

He snorted. "Of course it bothered me, Skinner. But, at least I knew you would keep him as safe as you could when I couldn't be there."

Unable to gather any kind of coherent response to this little revelation, I settled for a noncommittal grunt and took refuge in my drink. When Mulder had admitted to having actually had an intimate relationship with Krycek, I'd been damned well eaten up with jealousy. It had taken one hell of a lot of work on my part to come to terms with the idea. But, the fact that Mulder had survived, apparently uninjured by their association - and the knowledge that it was over and done with (at least, I'd assumed it was in the past) - had convinced me to reluctantly accept their past relationship.

Now, to learn that it had gone on while Mulder was with me... well, dammit! "That little slut!" I growled.

With a sympathetic look, Krycek shook his head. "Walter, you know him. His insecurities. His needs. We each gave him something. I really think that we both, in our different ways, kept him as stable as possible during those years."

My doubt must have shown clearly in my expression, for he sighed impatiently. "Look, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but... Tell me, when you were with him, you were on top, right?"

I shrugged, then nodded a reluctant confirmation.

"Okay. And I - well, when he was with me, *he* was on top. He needed both. The comfort of letting you be in charge, and the confidence that my submission gave to him."

Damn him. He was right. I didn't like it - but he *was* right.

Harold returned to take our food order just then, breaking the suddenly tense atmosphere between us. Once he'd departed to put our dinner order in and get us each a refill on our drinks, Krycek offered me a surprisingly sympathetic look.

"Can't we just let that go for now? Enjoy a meal together? Try to get to know each other just a little better?" He met my eyes, no pretence in his expression. "We're the last ones, Walt. We're both on our own now - we've moved on from the bad old days. Let's talk and see if *we* have any chance of being, if not friends, friendly acquaintances."

Boy had a point. I was lonely. He, I could see, was quite obviously lonely, too. And, really, who else could we talk about our pasts with? Besides, I'd always been curious about him. About how such an intelligent man had come to be what he'd been. And, I found that I really wanted to know more about him - Alex Krycek, the man.

"Okay, Krycek - Alex. No more Mulder. No more past, for tonight. We talk. About now - where we are, and where we'd like to be in the future."

Visibly relieved at my words, he nodded gravely in agreement.

And, damned if we didn't have a nice meal. As the evening wore on, I was surprised to find a surprising depth in him. A lively, curious mind. A well-educated mind. A man who took great interest in current events and had opinions on many subjects that closely matched mine.

I enjoyed myself. From all appearances, he did too. When I dropped him off at his hotel, I couldn't quite conceal my dismay at the news that he'd be returning home the following morning.

As he climbed out of my car, he paused. "I'll, uh, be coming back later in the summer. Maybe we can get together then?"

Without hesitation, with rather embarrassing alacrity, to tell the truth, I agreed. Pulled out a slip of paper from the glove box and wrote down my email address for him. "Here," I said gruffly, shoving it into his hand. "Write me. Let me know when you'll be here. We'll make plans."

It might have been a trick of the light, but I suspect not. He blushed as he tucked the paper into his wallet. "I will," he promised.

As I drove away, I couldn't help thinking that I - *we* - just might find, with time, that we had even more in common than I'd imagined

end