Title: Tangled Webs III: Mastering Deception

Author/pseudonym: Barb G.

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 #3 (final chapter)

Other websites: http://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.

Summary: Krycek sits down.

Tangled Webs III: Mastering Deception
by Barb G.

Krycek ran after him, but missed the elevator. He took the stairs down and got to Mulder as he unlocked his car door.

"It's not how it looks," Krycek said.

Mulder's face was dark. "I doubt that."

"It was business, Mulder."

"Who was paying whom?"

"Mulder--" Krycek began, but Mulder grabbed him and threw him against the car. Krycek hit hard, but he didn't move away from where he had been thrown. "Just like old times," he gritted out as his lungs tried to inhale.

"You want it like old times?" Mulder hissed as he pressed his hands into Krycek's throat.

Krycek exposed his throat, trusting Mulder enough not to keep the pressure on too long.

Mulder broke away disgusted. "You're a whore, Krycek."

"I'm an opportunist," Krycek said as he rubbed his throat. "And this is an opportunity."

"Men go their entire lives without fucking an opportunity, Krycek," Mulder said as he unlocked his door. He went to open it, but Krycek didn't move away from the door. Mulder said nothing for a long set of heartbeats, but then pulled away far enough so that he could draw his finger down Krycek's cheek. "It's not going to work, Krycek," Mulder said.

"What's not?"

"Making me angry."

Krycek rubbed his throat, feeling the heat from Mulder's fingerprints. "You don't say."

"You are a bastard, Krycek," Mulder said.

"I know," Krycek said. Mulder stared at him, but tugged on the door. Krycek stood away, and Mulder opened the door.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Mulder said before he got into the car.

"And let me guess, you aren't going to care," Krycek said.

Mulder looked up just before he closed the door. "Oh, I'll care," he said, and drove away.

Krycek bent his head, but then realized he was cold. He had followed Mulder down wearing nothing but jeans and he suddenly flushed, feeling more than naked with his stump exposed. He took the stairs up rather than risk any of his neighbours seeing him.

Chris glanced up from the coffee pot as Krycek let himself the apartment. Chris studiously studied it rather than looking at Krycek as he entering the bedroom.

He left the room once he had dressed. "That was Mulder?" Chris asked.

Krycek moved behind him and parted the longer hair on the back of Chris' neck. He kissed the nape, and then blew on the spot. "Yes."

"Was he pissed?"

Krycek ran his hands up Chris' thighs. "Do you care?" he asked.

Chris pushed against him as the toast popped up, but Krycek wasn't hungry. He forced Chris down to his knees, tired of playing the martyr. Chris resisted slightly, but Krycek was insistent. He couldn't hold Chris down and undo his jeans at the same time, but Chris took the hint and unzipped them himself.

"Very good," Krycek whispered. Chris took him in his mouth, but it was obvious he was an amateur at it. Krycek coached him through it, but gave the smoker's tricks off as his own. It took Chris a bit to start improvising, and Krycek was finally able to close his eyes and pushed the thought of Chris out. The texture of the hair under his palms wasn't right. It was too long and too coarse. The sounds weren't right either. When Mulder wasn't talking he was silent as if he were conducting an experiment. He closed his eyes and pulled from his stored memories what it should be like, and linked his hands behind Chris' head to set his own pace.

Chris started to gag, and Krycek squeezed his eyes shut as he forced himself to come down Chris' throat. Chris stood up, but Krycek moved away before they kissed so he wouldn't have to taste himself. "You working today?" he asked.

It was the right thing to ask. Chris glanced down to his watch, swore, and left.

Krycek took his gun apart and began to clean it when someone knocked on the door. He stood up and answered it without his spare. It was the man from the interrogation room.

"Did you have a doctor look at that when you returned?" the man asked.

Krycek didn't move from the door. "Only when the arm was being fitted."

"The stump healed without complications? Any phantom pain?"

Krycek rubbed his false wrist. "In the mornings."

"You fascinate me, Mr. Krycek. Your handler had never had an assistant he kept for more than six months before you, yet he hand-picked you from the very beginning. Why?"

Krycek turned around. "Beats the hell out of me," he said and went back to the kitchen table.

The man shut the door behind him. "I asked you a question, Mr. Krycek."

"And I answered it."

"How is Agent Mulder?"

"I haven't asked lately."

"Mr. Krycek. I suggest you start taking this seriously."

Krycek turned in his seat. "We aren't talking," he said. "He seems to find my willingness to fuck my handler as one of my many character flaws."

"It's time to kiss and make up."

Krycek put his gun back together again. "You're asking me to betray him?" Krycek asked.

"And if I were?"

Krycek just looked at him.

"I have a hard time believing that your old handler would take this behaviour from you, Mr. Krycek."

Krycek forced himself to lower his eyes. "So you're my new one?" he asked.

"No. We have decided to leave you independent."

Krycek looked at him. "No handler?"

"None."

"Do I thank you?"

"No."

Krycek nodded.

"We want to see you tonight."

Krycek nodded again.

There were men who sat, and men who stood behind, and Krycek would always stand. The second half of the meeting started, but Krycek remained for it. Chris glanced at him, raising an eyebrow and Krycek nodded. The smoker saw him do it.

The second half of the meeting was much more informative, but Krycek was almost disappointed to find out that Mulder was not the topic of any of the items. It could have been because he was there, but he doubted it. None of the men looked up at him. They were moving the Brazil operations underground, and an official had to be eliminated in Mexico because he beginning to reluctantly take the bribes. Krycek tensed, waiting to be assigned to the job, but they voted on an outside contractor.

There was no reason for Krycek to be there other than to listen in on the next phase of plans. He had thought that his involvement with Mulder would keep him from the higher levels, but it only kept him from sitting down.

At the end of the meeting, the smoker walked past him again. Krycek slowed as he approached Chris, but as the smoker went to say something, he was called back. Krycek glanced behind him to the two men who called him, and they looked at him deliberately and then turned back into the meeting room.

The smoker met his eyes for the first time and smirked.

#

Krycek focused on the sweat that covered his skin as Chris worked against him. He gritted his teeth, but he was able to stretch out on the bed enough so that he could move his free hand down to jerk off. Chris collapsed against him, and Krycek forced his body into a shudder. He came in his hand and pulled away from under Chris. Chris' skin against his own annoyed him, but Chris moved away as he disposed of the condom.

Krycek scraped the blond hair off Chris' forehead and sighed.

"What?" Chris asked.

"Nothing."

Chris rolled over to his side. "Tell me," he said as he drew patterns on Krycek's back.

Krycek turned his head. "I need a favour."

Chris sat up. "Name it."

Krycek reached for a pair of jeans and struggled with zipping them up. Chris followed him out. "It's not really a favour, more like a job."

"You want me to do a job for you?" Chris asked, shocked.

Krycek shook his head. "It's not that kind of job. I need information from my ex-handler and I don't have anything that he's interested in left to trade him."

Chris nodded. "When?" he asked.

Krycek kissed his forehead. "I'll let you know," he said.

Chris left. Krycek waited long enough for him to be gone before leaving the building himself.

#

Mulder answered the door in a pair of baggy sweats. "What do you want, Krycek?"

"Alex," Krycek said.

Mulder stared at him. "It's my name. I'm taking it back," Krycek said, simply.

"What do you want, Alex?"

"You."

"No, you don't."

"Mulder, please," Krycek said. He looked around the empty hall and then past Mulder's shoulder. "Just let me in."

Mulder's face didn't lighten up. Krycek looked around the hall one more time. "If that's how you want it," he said. He turned to go, but Mulder grabbed him, dragged him inside the apartment, shut the door and locked it.

"Mulder--"

"Shut up," Mulder growled. He backed Krycek up to the wall, and Krycek ran his hands under the sweatshirt. Mulder's skin was hot under his fingers. "Just shut up."

Krycek shook his head, not saying anything. He went to drop down to his knees in front of Mulder, but couldn't move from the hands pinning him to the wall. "No, you don't."

Krycek inhaled through his nose as Mulder's hand clamped over his mouth. "So, am I supposed to take you in now?" Mulder growled, but didn't move his hand for Krycek to answer. Mulder's free hand traced a line down Krycek's chest and worked its way into his jeans. "You've been losing weight again, Alex," he said.

Krycek pressed his lips against Mulder's palm, but jerked back as Mulder yanked down his zipper. "Oh, you'd like it gentle? Tough shit, Alex. You should have thought about that before you drove away from me."

Krycek's eyebrows almost touched, and he twisted to get away from the hand over his mouth, but Mulder's finding Krycek's erection through the jeans drained all the blood from his will. He stood still for it, almost hyperventilating through his nose. He wanted to beg Mulder to drop to his knees, but Mulder bit down on his throat and Krycek stopped fighting.

Mulder obviously had been waiting for that. He dropped down to his knees in the next instant and the cold fresh air was shocking enough on his lungs that the feeling of Mulder's mouth was distant. Krycek twisted, digging his nails into Mulder's scalp. He parted his legs as much as he could without sliding his jeans down his thighs.

For the first time since the airport, Krycek didn't have to pretend or force himself. He pushed back against the wall hard enough to strain his muscles, but Mulder reached up and took his hand, lacing their fingers together.

Mulder didn't tease him, but pulled away long enough to suck on his finger. Krycek tensed as Mulder pressed against him, and as the finger slowly slipped inside him Mulder took him deep down his throat.

Krycek came, flushing. Mulder backed away long enough to wipe his mouth, and then stood up to wash.

Krycek stripped off his clothes in the meantime and lay down over the bed. Mulder joined him, reaching for the drawer before he lay next to him.

Krycek rolled onto his back. Mulder kissed him, and settled his weight between Krycek's legs. Krycek looked at him, waiting for the kiss, but Mulder hooked his arms behind Krycek's legs and pulled him up. Krycek closed his eyes at the feeling of the cold lube, and he hissed softly as Mulder slowly moved inside him.

The stress on his legs was almost enough to hurt, but Mulder moved gently enough so that it never came close to actual pain. He had already come twice that night, but didn't mind taking the ride with Mulder.

Mulder tensed as Krycek reached up with his single hand to pull Mulder to him. Krycek shifted, and Mulder slipped out of him long enough for him to turn over. He didn't climb up to his knees, but Mulder parted his legs and pushed back inside.

Krycek hugged the pillow to his chin and loved the feeling of Mulder's entire body moving against him. His cock woke up again, and Mulder moved so that he could hold it. "Alex," Mulder whispered. Krycek turned his head so that Mulder's mouth was right next to his cheek, but Mulder apparently just wanted to say his name.

Mulder grunted, burrowing his face into the short hair on the back of Krycek's head as his body shuddered. Mulder went to pull away, but Krycek protested. "Stay with me," he asked.

"What about..." Mulder worked his thumb against the base of Krycek's testicles, but Krycek yawned hard enough to crack his jaw. "Too tired."

Mulder lay back. "What ever you want. If you wake up in the middle of the night in a turgid state, you have my expressed consent to have your evil way with me."

"Turgid?" Krycek asked, but was asleep before he heard Mulder's answer.

#

He woke up the next morning to Mulder kissing the back of his neck. Krycek burrowed his face into the pillow, and the sounds of their breathing and the wet kisses drowned out the sound of the street from the window. The morning was cool, but Mulder moved the blankets back over their shoulders.

Mulder moved his hands down to Krycek's hips, but Krycek pulled away and Mulder let him go. Krycek went to the bathroom, but Mulder didn't join him until the shower started.

Mulder was better at bracing himself against the shower stall, so Krycek moved up behind him. Mulder bent at the waist, and Krycek wrapped his arm around Mulder's lower belly. Mulder threw his head back as Krycek entered him.

Mulder was beautiful under him, braced to accept him. His head was bowed, but Krycek suddenly wanted to see his face. Everything fit the way it was supposed to. "Tell me he meant nothing," Mulder said.

Krycek shook his head; Mulder knew he hated talking, but he cleared his throat. "He meant nothing," Krycek said.

"Then why?" Mulder asked and then flinched as Krycek moved against him roughly.

Krycek didn't answer him, and Mulder gave him the reprieve. Krycek focused on the sensations, and it was enough to pull him over.

Mulder had brought himself off and straightened up. They didn't say anything as they finished the shower in the luke-warm water, Krycek reached for the towel when Mulder stopped him. "Then why?" he asked again.

Krycek paused. "It's a means to an end, Mulder," he said.

Mulder looked at him, but then glanced to his watch. "Be here tonight."

"I--"

Mulder put a finger over his lips. "I said, be here tonight. Your only response is 'yes'."

"Yes," Krycek said, obediently.

#

Krycek's hair was still damp as he entered the office building. Chris had met him in the parcade, and Krycek put a hand on the small of his back. Just outside of the office, Krycek had a sudden attack of conscience. He tried to ignore it, but he was asking Chris to be a whore. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

Chris nodded.

The smoker looked up at them both. Krycek paused for a moment, and then turned to Chris. "Wait for us outside," he asked.

Chris glanced at the smoker, but nodded and closed the door behind him. "What do you want?" the smoker demanded. He had deliberately not watched Chris leave, but it made Krycek smile. He sat down on the desk.

"What do you want, Krycek?" the smoker repeated.

"A trade."

"You have nothing I want."

"Don't I?"

"He belongs to someone else."

"It would be a personal favour," Krycek said.

"It didn't take you long to put your thumb in his pie, Krycek."

"Are you interested or not?" Krycek said, standing up.

"And if I am? What do you want in exchange?"

"Was Mulder the topic of your private meeting?"

"That's all you want to know?"

Krycek nodded.

"In that case, no, he wasn't."

Krycek tightened his mouth, and let the smoker feel a moments satisfaction at his expense. "A deal is a deal, Krycek. Send in your friend and excuse yourself."

"Yes, sir," Krycek said. He opened the door and motioned Chris inside. Chris looked at him, and Krycek drew his finger across Chris' jaw. "Enjoy yourself."

#

Mulder had ordered a pizza and rented a couple videos. Krycek found it odd to be spending a night sprawled out on the couch with a full belly and laughing at Mulder as he threw popcorn at the television over the malicious representation of federal agents in the media. Mulder's words, not his.

Krycek finally had to distract him the only way he could. He undid Mulder's jeans, which slowed the rant slightly, but when the blow-job didn't end it entirely, Krycek reached for his beer and pressed the length of it against the underside of Mulder's cock.

Mulder yelped and threw him off the couch, but Krycek amused himself on the carpet until Mulder had to get down and take over the task at hand. The movie ended without either of them noticing it, but when it switched to a snowy-screen and started crackling, they both jumped.

#

It took less than a week. Krycek had expected it to take a few more days, but he was summoned to the offices on Thursday. "Your little friend has put in a request to be transferred," the man who had interrogated him said.

Krycek stood up. "To the smoker? You can't be serious. And you are going to approve this?"

The man spread his hands out. Krycek nodded and stood up.

He went home, and wasn't surprised at seeing Chris waiting for him. "Alex--" Chris began.

Krycek looked around. Chris' jacket was draped over the couch, and there were several empty bottles on the coffee table; he had been there a while. Krycek didn't say anything, but brought Chris back a beer and motioned him to sit down. "So you hit it off?" he asked, needlessly.

Chris nodded. He drank half the beer, and then wiped his palms onto his jeans. "No hard feelings?" he asked.

Krycek almost had to smile at the awkwardness of the situation. "No, no hard feelings."

Chris drained off the last of his beer and stood up to go. "May I use the washroom?" he asked.

Krycek nodded. Chris was gone for a couple minutes. "So, tell me, Chris. When did you decide to play this for your favour?" he asked.

"You had him, Alex. You let him go."

"Did he promise to take care of you? Take you to the top with him?"

"You don't have a handler right now, and you belonged to him," Chris argued.

Krycek bowed his head, slightly. "I suppose you're right," he said, and stood up. He opened the door for Chris and handed him his jacket. "Bundle up," he said.

Chris smiled an embarrassed apology and left.

#

Krycek unwrapped his sandwich and sat down on a bench. The park was crowded with innocents, and Krycek sat alone watching them. It was calming to think that people could live their lives and have their only concern be about rent money or improperly installed car-seats.

"Sheep, aren't they?" the smoker asked.

Krycek offered the man half of his sandwich, but he refused it. "Walked into that one, didn't I?" he said.

The smoker nodded. "You did."

"Where are you registered? Am I invited to the reception?"

"Chris was everything you were, Krycek. Bright, amoral, obedient. When you offered him to me on a platter, what was I supposed to do?"

Krycek took a bite and said nothing.

"You have no friends here, Krycek."

Krycek nodded. "I'll find something else."

"You always do. I've been told to tell you that there is no point in you coming to the meeting tonight. There is nothing that involves you."

The smoker stood up and lit up a cigarette. "It was nice knowing you, Krycek," he said.

Krycek saluted him with his sandwich.

#

Scully saw him first. She obviously thought about not pointing him out, but she finally nudged Mulder. He waited for her to point out his location before he ducked back behind the fountain.

Mulder was there a few moments later. "What are you doing here? Outside the FBI building, are you suicidal?" he demanded.

Krycek sat down on the edge. Mulder joined him. "Alex?" he asked.

Krycek moved his thigh so that they almost touched. "I have something I've got to do tonight," he said.

"Another opportunity?" Mulder asked, bitterly.

"Yes. But not like that."

"Alex?"

"If this works, it will be the end of it," Krycek said.

Mulder moved closer to him, but then remembered they were in public. "Alex?" he asked again.

Krycek stood up. "Good-bye," he said.

"Alex--"

"Mulder, don't," he said and walked away.

#

Krycek waited until almost seven before working the lock. The chain was on, but Krycek snipped it with bolt cutters. The smoker was in the shower, but the apartment was empty. Chris hadn't officially been transferred yet, and he was probably meeting with his handler for the last time. Krycek deadbolted the door, and waited in the bedroom for the smoker.

The man looked surprised for a moment. "I had thought I made myself clear in the park," he said.

"You had," Krycek said.

"Then if you are here to beg, you'd look better on your knees. I might take you back, if you accept being below Chris."

"That's very generous, but I'm not here to beg," Krycek said.

"What are you here for then, Krycek?" the smoker asked, and then went back to toweling off his hair.

Krycek took another step. "I thought I might gloat for a bit and then kill you," he said, calmly.

The smoker froze. "What?" he demanded, but dropped his towel as Krycek pulled out Chris' ceramic knife.

"Gloating's over," Krycek said.

The smoker tried to run, but Krycek grabbed him and threw him to the bed. He would only allow himself one cut; anything more would be classified as a crime of passion. He didn't think the smoker and Chris had a passionate relationship.

Krycek slit the man's throat. He knew from experience that the man's bedroom was soundproof, so did nothing to stop the man's screams. He had to climb onto the body to keep it pinned down; he needed his hand for the knife. The man's threats turned to bloody gurgles as Krycek moved the blade slowly enough so that it grated against the neck bone. The smoker stopped struggling under him. The sheets turned red as the blood spread across and was absorbed into the satiny mattress.

Krycek stopped the blade and realized he had been panting. He backed away so that his knees wouldn't touch the bloodstain, and he stabbed the knife down into the smoker's chest so they would be sure to find it.

He glanced down, but he had been careful. He adjusted the collar to his jacket and left the apartment unlocked.

An hour later, he strolled into the meeting. The consortium watched him as he walked over to the smoker's chair and sat down. No one questioned him.

He stood up at the end of the meeting, and was called back. "Mr. Krycek," his interrogator called.

Krycek stopped.

"What happens to the boy?" the man asked.

"It's my decision?" Krycek asked.

"Not usually, but in this situation I'll make the exception."

"I'll take him on," Krycek said.

The man nodded. "Done. Congratulations, Mr. Krycek. You have officially been erased. Don't go back to your old apartment."

Krycek nodded. "Have Chris sent up to my office," he said.

The man nodded.

Krycek put his feet up on the desk. He would have to air out the office on another day, but for a moment he enjoyed sitting in the last of the smoke scent. He closed his eyes and relaxed until he heard the door open. Chris walked in, looking shell-shocked.

"You're late," Krycek said.

"I'm sorry," Chris said. Krycek looked at him. "I'm sorry, sir," he repeated.

Krycek nodded. He kept Chris in the silence, and Chris broke first. "How did you--" he stopped and cleared his throat. "When did you plan this, sir?" he asked.

"You were outclassed from the beginning. If I catch you trying to rat your way away from me, I'll take you out myself," Krycek said.

Chris lowered his eyes. "Yes, sir."

#

Mulder answered the door wearing sweats again. "Want a shower?" he asked.

Krycek nodded.

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

Krycek nodded again.

Warnings: Spoiler space
(scroll down for spoiler warnings)
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
Okay, it's a death story, but it's *not* who you think. Just be warned, some icky stuff ahead, but it's really deserved.