Title: Tangled Webs I: Setting the Lines

Author/pseudonym: Barb G.

Fandom: Xfiles

Paring: Mulder/Krycek CSM/Krycek Krycek/kitchen sink

Rating: NC-17

Status: complete, the end, their ain't no more

Archive: Yes, please

E-mail address for feedback: ba3333@kornet.net

Series: Tangled Webs #1

Other websites: www.slashcity.com/barb

Disclaimers: Not mine, but Chris Carter can have what's left of them.

Notes: Moonpuppy is the fastest beta in the west, and Devo and Sandy are this thing's grandmother. Thanks for encouraging me/threatening me to continue.

Tangled Webs I : Setting the Lines

by Barb G.

Krycek unlocked his door and smelled the cigarette smoke.

"You've changed the locks again," the smoker said, coming out of the bedroom.

Krycek threw the useless set of keys onto the table. "For all the good it did me," he said.

"Surely you weren't expecting to keep me out, Alex?"

"What do you want?" Krycek asked as he leaned against the wall.

"For one thing, to question you about your wardrobe. I don't like this at all," the smoker said. Krycek pulled back, but against the wall he couldn't escape the man's hand as it ran down his shirt collar. "You have a reputation to uphold."

"Since when are you the fashion police?" Krycek snarled. The flannel shirt had more warmth than the tight black clothes the smoker liked him in, and the jeans were from before the smoker had known him.

The smoker smiled at him for a heartbeat, and then cuffed his ear. It started to ring, and Krycek glared as he brought his hand up to protect the throbbing side of his face. "Did you want to get smart with me again?"

Krycek shook his head. The smoker stepped closer, pinning him to the wall for a moment longer, and then walked away. "Go get changed."

Krycek balled his fist, but went into the bedroom. He closed the door behind him, which probably angered the smoker even more, but he wasn't going to give the man a cheap thrill.

He changed into a pair of black jeans and tucked in a new turtleneck. The room was colder with only the thin shirt, but he squared his shoulders and went back into the main room.

"Much better," the smoker said. He put his hand up to stroke Krycek's cheek, but Krycek didn't stand still for it. He walked away, taking his spare gun from the kitchen draw and started to take it apart on the table. The smoker watched him, eyes narrowed, but Krycek wasn't his whore.

Not anymore, at least.

He had been, but that as before the smoker had disgraced himself to the consortium. It had been a long fall from favour, and to punish him once he returned to the flock, they took away all his toys, which included Krycek. The smoker had every right to discipline his behaviour if he stepped out of line, but it was a thin line. Krycek held him to the letter of it.

"What do you want?" he asked again.

"A simple job."

Krycek checked the action, but the smoker put his hand over Krycek's arm. "No guns."

"Where?" Krycek asked.

The smoker gave him a slip of paper. Krycek pocketed it without looking at it. "Is that all?"

The smoker turned to leave. "One last thing. How's Mulder?"

Krycek's back knotted up. "I wouldn't know," he said.

The smoker smirked at him. "Keep working on it, Alex. You might convince me next time."

"You keep saying that."

"One day it might be true."

The piano wire bit into Krycek's hand as he tied it around the false arm. He tested the knot before wrapping it tight. He slipped his glove on and grabbed his keys.

The address was in the warehouse district. He ducked as a patrol car passed and then relaxed. With all the budget cuts the city had to make, he doubted the next one would circle for an hour. He got out of the car and propped the hood up.

The slip of paper said ten o'clock along with a license plate, but it was closer to half past before the right car pulled across the street. It would have been easier if he hadn't worn all black, but Krycek looked around from staring at the engine block and half-waved at the man in the car. He looked both ways before he ran across the street, and knocked on the window with his good hand.

It would also have been easier to have just shot the mark. There was absolutely no one on the street, no witnesses and a thousand places to dump the gun, but Krycek had his orders. The man glared at him, but Krycek tried to look as harmless as possible. He ran his hand through his hair and pulled his jacket closer to his body. "Come on, man, it's freezing out here," he said.

The man finally unrolled his window. "What do you want?"

"Got a phone, buddy? I hate to leave the car to go find one."

The man went to roll his window back up, but Krycek gripped onto the it. He yanked back, and snapped the glass out. The man tried to turn the car back on, but Krycek half-pulled him out of the broken window. He unwound the piano wire and wrapped it quickly around the man's throat.

The cut glass pressed into his belly as he thrashed, but Krycek pulled the wire tighter. The man's eyes bulged, and Krycek waited until the body stopped jerking against the glass before he let go.

Krycek left the wire embedded in the man's throat and kicked off his bloody shoes. He wrapped them in a plastic bag he kept in his trunk, and drove to Mulder's apartment.

Mulder answered the door wearing nothing but sweats. He looked down and saw Krycek's socks, and then back up at his face. "Want a shower?" he asked.

Krycek nodded.

Mulder put his hand on the back of Krycek's neck. "I have to work tomorrow. Be quiet."

Krycek nodded again.

Mulder went back into his bedroom and Krycek started a shower. He washed using Mulder's soap and Mulder's shampoo before he toweled off.

Mulder moved over to the second half of the bed, but held out the blankets for him. Krycek curled up behind him, back to back, and Mulder said nothing about the chilled flesh against him.

Mulder nudged him awake. Krycek sat up on his elbows, bleary-eyed, and Mulder continued with his tie. "I bought you a tooth-brush so you'd stop stealing mine," he said.

"Thanks," he said.

"Am I going to read about your handiwork this morning?"

"Warehouse district," Krycek said.

"You going to be here when I get back?"

He made his face. "No. I gotta go."

Mulder leaned over him and kissed his forehead. "Don't be a stranger."

Krycek didn't say anything as Mulder left him.

#

The smoker looked up as Krycek returned. "Sleep well?"

"You'll never know."

"It's only a matter of time, Alex. We know both know that."

Krycek sat down on the couch. He sprawled back, which spread his legs almost lewdly. "So tell me, why no gun?"

"He stole a shipload of weapons from us over the fall, and we know he had a partner. This is our way of...encouraging him to come forward to return the stolen goods or you might have to visit him as well."

Krycek put the flat of his palm against the inside of his thigh. The smoker tried to look like he wasn't watching, but when Krycek played with the seam of the denim, the man's mouth dropped open a quarter of an inch.

"More grunt work," he said, and ran his fingers up closer to his ass. The smoker followed the motion, and he reached for his cigarettes.

"Stop it."

"Why? Does it remind you of past grunt work?" Krycek asked. He drew his hand up and down his testicles and sighed.

"A thousand dollars."

"No," Krycek said. His cock was only half-hard against his thigh, but it appreciated being stroked.

"Five. Name your price."

Krycek stood up and went to the door. "You couldn't afford it," he snapped. "Get out."

"You forget yourself," the smoker said. He stood up and went to Krycek, who stood his ground. "I had you once, I'll have you again."

Krycek met his eyes. "You can bugger my corpse to your heart's content," he said, softly. "But you will never have me."

"I could make your life hell, boy."

"What makes you think you haven't already?"

The smoker left, and Krycek locked the door behind him.

#

Mulder answered his cell phone, but Krycek hung up before the man could speak. At six he walked into the coffee shop and sat down next to him.

"Your guy last night didn't play very nicely with others," Mulder said.

Krycek nodded. It was easier for Mulder to accept his occasional killing sprees if he could rationalize it. Luckily very few innocents tied themselves up with the smoker enough to need a killing. The ones that did, Mulder never found out about. "Can we not talk about this?" he asked.

"What do you want to talk about?" Mulder asked.

"I don't want to talk."

"Ah. Well then that calls for two tickets to a knicks game where the only acceptable form of communication are low-level grunts at appropriate intervals and beer libations on the half-hours."

It had been a long time since Krycek had been out. He nodded, and paid for his coffee.

Krycek refused to buy tickets close to the court; he didn't want to risk the cameras being so close. Mulder took the banishment well, and although they lost the game, it had been nobly fought.

Krycek half-dozed as Mulder went through his "basketball as a microcosm of the decline of the male psyche" speech. Finally, he reached over and closed his hand over the man's mouth and nose. Mulder fought him, but Krycek only released him when the cab driver looked suspiciously at them through the mirror. "Point taken," Mulder said. "Very well argued."

Krycek smiled at him.

He got out with Mulder in front of his apartment, and followed him up to his apartment. Krycek shut the door behind him and they kissed against it.

It had been a month since the last time they had fucked, when Krycek had forced Mulder over a bed in a cheap motel. Mulder had been on a case in New York and Krycek flew out to join him there. It was safer than being together in Washington.

This time, Mulder moved his hands down the small of Krycek's back. His fingers worked through the muscles on either side of the spine, and Krycek leaned against the cold door and closed his eyes. "Let's go to the bed," Mulder whispered.

Krycek was content to let Mulder lead him. Mulder stripped his shirt easily, but used his hands to roam over Krycek's body. Krycek braced himself against the wall with his single hand as Mulder's lips joined his fingers. He never knew when the lips would graze him or if he would feel Mulder's teeth, but he didn't care. He closed his eyes and allowed it.

Mulder's fingers lulled him into passivity, which ended as he felt Mulder's lips against his upper thigh. Mulder nipped him as he lowered Krycek's jeans, and Krycek stepped out of them. "On the bed," Mulder whispered.

"No," Krycek said. He didn't move from the wall.

"I don't think you heard me. On the bed, Krycek, now."

"I heard you," Krycek whispered.

"So, tell me. Do you want it forced against the wall or shall I make you get into bed?" Mulder growled into his ear.

Krycek looked over his shoulder, sneered, and turned back to the wall.

Mulder struggled with him, and he tensed when he heard Mulder flip the top of the lube with his thumb. Krycek threw himself backwards, but Mulder caught his good hand and twisted it behind his back.

Mulder never put any pressure on his arm, but Krycek felt secure in the grip. "Don't struggle," Mulder warned him. "I swear I'll let you go if you do."

Krycek nodded. "I won't," he said.

Mulder awkwardly lowered his pants with his free hand and squirted a healthy dose of lubrication in his palm. Krycek felt a finger force its way inside him. "You're always so tight," Mulder hissed into his ear. "Tell me I'm the only one you give this to."

"You're it," Krycek whispered. He forced himself backwards, but Mulder only moved away.

"That was your last warning, Krycek."

Krycek moved back to the wall and waited. Mulder slipped another finger inside him, and he felt the thrill in his knees as he felt Mulder move against the soft tissue inside of him.

"Ready?" Mulder whispered.

Krycek nodded, and Mulder's pelvis was against him for a moment. Mulder's hot breath touched against the back of his neck as Mulder entered him, but Mulder didn't seem to mind him straining ever so slightly against his shoulder. Mulder laughed, letting him know he knew, but he wasn't going to stop gripping onto his hip to hold him still for the fucking.

Mulder was babbling again. Helpless, hopeless meaningless words tripped out of him, but the heat from the hand over his wrist and the thrusts against him didn't stop. Krycek couldn't keep quiet any more, but matched the words behind him with moans. He closed his eyes, moments away from coming when they both heard the applause behind them. Mulder pulled away, reaching for his slacks, but Krycek didn't turn.

"Well, well, well. I hadn't thought you had it in you, Agent Mulder. It's one thing to fuck him, but another to fuck him like the whore he is."

"Get out of my apartment," Mulder demanded. Krycek turned around, and without shame began to dress.

"You may own his ass, but the rest belongs to me. Alex, downstairs."

Krycek glanced to Mulder, but shook his head. The smoker wasn't wrong,

Krycek hadn't asked if the man needed him again that night, and he was within his rights to collect his property. Mulder was furious enough not to look at him as he left.

The smoking man was half an hour later. He hadn't brought a driver with him, and so Krycek had to wait on the hood of his car for the smoker to come down.

"Tell me, did I come at a bad time? Or didn't you come at all?" the smoker asked, blowing a plume of smoke into his face.

Krycek refused to even cough. He kept his face straight and said nothing as the smoker passed him the keys. "To the airport," he said. "We have a plane to catch in an hour."

The streets were empty that late. "What is his appeal, Alex? You aren't even on first name basis. Those little sounds you make are quite endearing, my boy, why haven't you made them for me?"

Krycek took another right and headed out of town. The smoker waited a few moments in the silence, and then smiled again. "Is it true love? Would you like to settle in the Hamptons and have a little garden in the back yard? Would you wear the apron in the family? Tell me, Alex."

Krycek looked at him, shook his head, and went back to driving. "At least won't you like to know when is the next time you are going to see him?"

Krycek bit his lip. The strength the silence gave him grew, and by the time he reached the airport, he was feeling smug with it. The smoker couldn't touch him, and he knew it. He got out of the car, and even brought the smoker's bags into the terminal.

They passed a young couple with two children who waited at a bus stand.

The blue sign said they still had another twenty minute wait, but they must have just missed the previous bus. The smoker walked inside the terminal, turned around, and waited for the door to close. "Kill them," he said.

"What?" Krycek asked. The smoker hadn't surprised him like that in almost three years.

"I said, kill them. Shoot them in the head, but kill them all."

"They are nothing to you. Why would I kill them?"

"Are you disobeying a direct order, Alex?" the smoker asked, innocently.

The father glanced at his watch again, and exhaled sharply enough to stir his hair with the breath. The mother said something and put her hand on his arm, and he relaxed again.

"No," Krycek said. "I won't."

"You have no choice. I tell the consortium that you refused, and you won't be able to hide anywhere. They will find you, Alex. Boys ten years younger than you will be thrilled to have the great Alex Krycek to finish what the Russians started. Think about that."

Krycek swallowed. He looked at the family, and then back at the smoker. "But...?" he asked, sincerely hoping that there was a but.

"I think you know."

Krycek looked at the family one more time, but nodded. The smoker smiled and turned around. "We won't be taking that trip after all."

Without being told to drive anywhere else, Krycek brought the man back to his apartment. Within moments of walking in the door, the man had him in a parody of the position he and Mulder had taken. Only this time the arm behind his back wasn't for comfort and Krycek deliberately bit his tongue to keep the painful cries inside of him as the smoker mounted him.

He was already greased and mostly open from Mulder, so at least he wasn't torn too badly. He accepted the man into his body with all the fight of the promised corpse, but had to leave the room when the smoker left him against the wall and climbed into the bed. He paced for almost twenty minutes, but he was naked and he would have to go back into the bedroom to dress before he left.

Finally, Krycek squared his shoulders. He had puked up black oil until his stomach felt like it had collapsed. He could survive this.

He kept to his quarter of the bed, but the smoker moved up behind him and began rubbing his limp cock against the small of his back. Krycek looked up at the alarm clock, but groaned when it was only four thirty. Two and a half hours left to go. He sighed and tried to pull away from the man an extra inch.

#O

He woke the next morning to with a sore shoulder. He sat up to test it, and noticed he was alone in bed. The smoker was in the shower, but Krycek dressed rather than joining him.

"You try me," the smoker said, coming out of the bathroom. "Do you think I would forgive you your lapses?"

Krycek didn't look up from taking the loaf of bread down from the cupboard. If he concentrated on the individual motions required to drop the bread down the toast slot, open the fridge door, find the butter and everything, he could almost drown out the smoker.

Not that the man would let him. The smoker slammed the door and threw Krycek up against it. The cold touched his bare back, but he looked off to the side and down rather than at the man. "Look at me!"

Krycek kept looking away. The smoker finally had to grab his chin and force his face forward. Krycek strained against the fingers, but the smoker only dug deeper. The pain started to break through the wall of numbness Krycek had built, and he stopped fighting. The smoker relaxed, and to fuck with his mind, Krycek leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He drew his tongue across the cheek, but was silent as the man grabbed his hips and thrust against him.

His toast popped up, and Krycek stared at it. He hated cold toast, but doubted he could get out of the hold any time soon. He tried not to make the wince too noticeable as the smoker thrust into him again, but he was anything but excited and the body grinding against him was painful. He held a finger to the smoker's lips and pushed him back slightly.

The smoker fell over himself to obey, and Krycek dropped to his knees. He had felt the bulge when it was against him, and the smoker was hard enough that when Krycek freed his cock, it bounced up and slapped his belly. He must have been jerking off in the shower.

Krycek started to suck. He forced himself to pantomime the signs of arousal. It didn't work until he started to make the soft sounds in the back of his throat. He manufactured it, but the smoker bought into it. He grabbed the back of Krycek's head and forced himself. Krycek caught the man's come on his tongue, but stood up and spat it out into the sink. He rinsed his mouth out, spat again, and then buttered his toast.

The smoker was furious at being dismissed, and tried to grab the back of Krycek's hair to yank his head back, but his hair was too short and his grip kept slipping. "You don't want to play this game, Alex. You are going to lose."

"Are you done with me?" Krycek asked. He swallowed with difficulty, and waited passive under the smoker's anger. The smoker let him go, furious, and left the room.

Krycek followed him out. "I asked if you were done with me," he repeated.

"No! Not tonight, not ever again. You're mine!"

"You can't do this," Krycek snapped. He tried to feel angrier, but couldn't.

The smoker grabbed him and pulled him to the window. Krycek lived in a good neighborhood, and the streets were starting to fill with young children and their nannies. "Tell me, what colour do you like. Red? Blue? How about that green shawl over there. Fuck around on me, Alex, and I'll order you to kill them all," the smoker said, and shot them all with his finger-gun.

Krycek wordlessly didn't fight the hand that held him to the window. "There is a meeting at five o'clock tonight. I expect you to be there."

Krycek nodded, and flinched as the smoker backhanded him. "Answer me. I am tired of this deaf-mute game that you play."

Krycek bobbed his head, but then cleared his throat. "Yes...sir," he managed.

The smoker patted his cheek and the door closed as Krycek slipped the cold toast into the trash. He had lost his appetite.

The players all looked at him as he entered the room. There were a couple new young ones that stood around their keepers. One of them looked like a gap-commercial, while the other one looked like a skater. He felt old and expendable just looking at them. The smoker pretended to notice him and snapped his fingers, so he heeled.

He tried to think of others his age what had joined him standing towards the back of the room, but one by one they had stopped attending the meetings. He felt even older.

The boys reminded him more of yapping terrier pups than actual assassins. Once the second part of the meeting began and the players dismissed their flunkies, Krycek waited in the ante-chamber for the smoker to finish.

Mulder would be home, and Krycek almost left the waiting room to go find a phone, but gap-boy and skater stood in front of him.

Krycek looked up, annoyed, but gap-boy didn't move. "You're blocking my sun," he said.

The skater actually looked out the darkened window. "You're Krycek, aren't you?" gap-boy asked.

Since they had put the smoker on the "look but don't touch" order, the man had stopped bringing him to the meetings. "I am. Who are you?"

"Shinu," the boy said.

Death in Japanese. Cute, but it didn't impress him. "Never heard of you," he said. "Who is your daddy?"

Shinu reacted like he had been slapped. He pulled out a ceramic knife and tossed it from hand to hand. He must have thought he was in a fighter's crouch, but there was no weight on the balls of his feet. "Take that back."

"No," Krycek said. He stood up faster than the boy expected and hit him hard in the chest. The boy fell backwards, and Krycek stepped on his hand. He heard three fingers and possibly a thumb break, which made it easier to retrieve the knife. "Pretty," he said as he tested the edge. Gap-boy gasped in pain, and his skater friend stared at him as he tossed the knife so that it embedded itself an inch into the wooden bench.

They didn't bother him after that.

The smoker chastised him in the car, but the man was smiling. "You put him out of commission for a month," he said.

Krycek let his false arm hit against the glass. "He'll survive," he said.

The smoker put his hand on Krycek's upper thigh, and Krycek tensed. "If you thought I was defending you, you're wrong," he said.

The man's hand moved up. "You still kicked his ass."

"What, worried that your boy toy is getting long in the tooth?" Krycek snarled.

"I'd take experience over youth any day," the smoker said his finger tired to slip between Krycek's thighs, but Krycek slammed on the brakes. "Get your hand off me."

"Don't do this Alex."

Krycek tensed his thigh muscles. A car came in the opposite direction, but Krycek didn't move.

"Drive."

"Fuck you."

The hand tightened over his cock. Krycek bit back a cry, but tightened his hand on the steering wheel. The pain shot through him, but he gritted his teeth and took it. Eventually the hand moved away. Krycek remained parked for a moment longer. "Keep your hand off me while I'm driving," he growled.

"Temper, Alex."

Alex drove home. The smoker punished him for his willfulness, but the bleeding stopped when he was in the shower. He still had a large bottle of antibiotics over the sink from the last time the smoker owned him and he downed a couple just in case.

The doorbell rang on the third night. Krycek was alone and he stood up gingerly to answer the door.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Mulder blinked, but stepped past him into the apartment.

"You made me worry."

"What do you want?" Krycek asked.

"Alex..." Mulder began, but Krycek narrowed his eyes. "Krycek. Are you in trouble? I can help."

"Good. Get out before he comes back. You can't help me."

He opened the door, but the smoker stood on the other side. Krycek stared at him, looked to Mulder, and just stood there.

The smoker grabbed the back of his neck. Krycek swore as the man pushed him back against the wall, and winced as he felt one of the nails break skin. "Sniffing after my property again, Agent Mulder?"

"Just get out of here, Mulder," Krycek said. He winced again as the nails dug deeper.

Both of them heard the gun's safety click off. "Let him go," he ordered.

The smoker laughed. "You are going to shoot me over a whore?"

"Let him go, you bastard, or I won't let the cancer have a chance."

"Mulder, what are you doing?" Krycek demanded.

"You're coming with me."

"Mulder--" Krycek began, but then looked at Mulder's face.

The smoker was still amused by this all, but the entertained look to his face ended as Krycek pulled away from the hand holding him. "Alex, you aren't going anywhere," he snapped.

Krycek shook his head. Mulder took his arm and pulled him out the door. "This disappoints me, boy," he said.

Krycek nodded, but Mulder slammed the door.

Krycek pulled away. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"You told me he couldn't fuck you."

"Yeah? Well now I'm telling you he can."

Mulder shook his head. "Did you want to go back to him, then?" Krycek thought about it, but shook his head. "Coffee?" Mulder asked.

"Yeah," Krycek said.

#

The coffee house was warm, but Krycek didn't take off his jacket. "So why?" Mulder asked.

"I didn't have a choice," Krycek said flatly.

"You always have a choice."

"Not all of us."

"What does he have over you?" Mulder asked.

Krycek looked around him, but he didn't see anyone in the shop besides customers. "I disobeyed a direct order," he said.

Mulder waited, not soliciting for any other information. Krycek sighed, and looked up. "He ordered me to kill a family. I refused. If he tells his bosses I'm fertilizer."

Mulder nodded, once.

#

He came home late, but the smoker was waiting. Krycek groaned as he sat down next to him on the couch. "He fucked you?"

Krycek shook his head.

"But you wanted to."

"It would have hurt too much."

"And did you think I would hurt you any less?"

"I came back, didn't I?" Krycek said.

The smoker pulled his head down, and Krycek took him in his mouth. Krycek covered his teeth and kept from gagging, but that was all the smoker wanted from him. The smoker wouldn't touch him, and Krycek's lips went numb before the man came.

He swallowed, wiped his mouth, and went into the bedroom. The smoker didn't follow.

#

A week later the phone rang once, but by the time the smoker picked it up, the line had gone dead. Krycek glanced up from the movie, but the smoker went back to his files and ignored him. It was time. Krycek swallowed and still tasted the smoker's come in the back of his throat. He put his head back down over his folded arms and exhaled in relief. All he had to do was pick a fight.

He got up and the smoker caught his wrist. Krycek stared at the hand like it was something dead and pulled away. The smoker stood up and followed him to the door. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"For a drive," Krycek said.

"Excellent. Where are we going?"

"I've already blown you. I want tonight off."

"Was that call was from Mulder, whore? The phone rings and you come in your pants."

"Since when did you give a damn about where or when I come?" he demanded.

"Where will you meet him?"

Krycek looked away, but the smoker grabbed his wrist. "I said, where will you meet him?"

"Are you going to beat it out of me?" Krycek asked.

"If I have to."

Krycek bit his lip. He inhaled, sharply, and then shook his head. "Outside of his apartment," he said.

"Then let's go."

"No."

The smoker grabbed his arm. "Do you need a refresher course in obedience?"

Krycek pulled away, and went down to the parking lot. He refused to look at the smoker as he drove, and parked in front of Mulder's apartment without getting out. "Go get him."

"No."

"Get him, Alex, or she is going to have a very bad night," the smoker said, and motioned the college girl walking down the street with a backpack.

"I said no. I'm sick of being your bitch."

"Kill her."

Krycek kept his face hard for an instant, but then shook his head. He stared down at his feet, and the smoker put his hand on Krycek's thigh. To get away from it, Krycek opened the door.

The woman looked up, startled at the sudden movement, but she froze as she saw the gun. She was still a few hundred yards away from him, but before she could turn and run, Krycek shot her, four times. She fell to the ground, blood exploding through her white sweater, and Krycek looked back through the windshield at the smoker. He looked back to the body and fired one more shot.

The smoker pursed his mouth, but as Krycek walked over to the body to dispose of it, the smoker drove past him in the van. Krycek waited for it to turn around the corner before he offered his hand. "You can get up now," he said.

The woman wiped some of the false blood off her cheek and pulled off her wig before she let him help her up. Mulder was a moment later and he gave her a wet cloth. She took the envelop of money from Krycek, and a moment later a car swung around to pick her up.

"Let's go inside in case he comes back. Are you sure that's the end of it?"

Krycek looked up to where the van had gone, but shook his head. "He's not going to risk dead bodies piling up. He can't afford investigations, and innocents cause too much stir."

Mulder leaked a story of a missing nursing student to a newspaper, but with the vague description and without any proof of foul play, the story made it to page forty-seven.

He called in sick for the rest of the day. Krycek had curled up on the side of the bed, but looked up as Mulder came into the room. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Krycek shook his head. "It's cold in here."

Mulder left for a moment, and as he came back into the room, the furnace kicked in. "You look like shit," he said, and joined Krycek on the bed.

Krycek rolled onto his back. "You're supposed to get into my pants with that opening line?" he asked.

Mulder put his hand down over Krycek's groin. Krycek closed his eyes and sighed as Mulder gently stroked his cock through the denim. Mulder worked his hand under the shirt, and Krycek groaned as the flat of Mulder's hand worked against his belly. The first of the heat from the register moved over him, and he arched his back, offering himself more completely to Mulder.

Mulder's fingers pressed his ass over his denim, but Krycek flinched. "He's been tough on you," he whispered.

Krycek felt his body tense. Mulder pulled away for a second, and then went back to stroking his cock. "Sorry."

Krycek shook his head. Mulder moved over him and kissed his throat before he gingerly settled his weight down over Krycek's body. Krycek wrapped his legs around Mulder's hips and heard him hissed.

Mulder bit into his throat gently, but Krycek held Mulder's head to him. Mulder sucked on his skin and moved against him, awkwardly, but the friction between them made Krycek flush. He squeezed his thighs and dug his ankles into Mulder's ass.

Mulder began to grunt against his throat, and Krycek tilted his head back. He hadn't made-out since high school, but he came hard against Mulder's body. Mulder was a moment later, and then collapsed against him.

Mulder pulled away from him after his breathing calmed down. "I'm sorry," he said.

Krycek opened his eyes. "For what?" he said.

"This," Mulder said, and touched Krycek's throat.

Krycek moved his hand up and traced the mark. "Don't be."