*********************

Everyone was busy dusting and polishing when a cell phone rang.

"Mine," Skinner said as four adults reached for their pockets. "Skinner," he said, wiping a window down with one hand. He stopped, listening to Natti. Mulder noticed and stopped, too. He walked over to Skinner and put out a hand, resting it on Skinner’s waist. "Send him over here, please. Thanks." He disconnected the cell and put it back in his pocket.

"Marty has a registered letter for me. I have to sign for it." Marty was their postman.

"Registered? From who?" Mulder asked. Skinner lifted a hand.

"I don’t know, we’ll find out in a few minutes."

They had been at Dominic’s for most of the day, helping to get the place cleaned out and up. Most of the furniture was too gothic for Dom’s taste, so he called an auction house to come and get it. The proceeds would come back to his new parish. Marc had come out from the city to help, but Skinner suspected that his young cousin simply needed time with people who understood him better than his older cousins, aunts and uncles, most of whom were either not speaking to him or hurled taunts and epitaphs every time he walked into the room. Luckily, Marc had the support of his sisters and his father. Zia Ginny had declared that she was on her death bed and closed herself off in her room, permitting no one except her priest to enter. Dominic told Skinner not to worry about it, she’d be out when the soaps started again on Monday. Everyone just needed time to adjust; theirs was the poster family for bi-polar disorders. Mulder had nudged Skinner and said,

"You see? You’re not the only bi in the family."

Marcus took Skinner up on the offer to use the family room for the time being. He didn’t want to stay with Dom, who had imposed a celibacy rule for the house. Marc had no intentions of bed-hopping through town, but neither did he appreciate the 11^th Commandment, ‘thou shalt obey cousin Dominic’.

Krycek was out of town, so Skinner didn’t have to worry about...

"What’s going on?"

...Krycek was back in town.

"You need glasses, Alex, I swear you do," Mulder told him, waving a rag and a bottle of Murphy’s Oil Soap. Mulder suddenly tossed the rag and bottle down and ran to the door, putting his arms out and holding onto the frame. Everyone stopped and looked at him.

"What are you doing?" Krycek asked, looking at Mulder with a wrinkle of confusion between his eyes.

"Making sure the building doesn’t collapse," Mulder said. Skinner burst out laughing. Krycek looked from one to the other before his eyes rested on a large Crucifix on the wall.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny," Krycek said. Dom and Marc finally got it; Krycek, the Devil, in a Church. "Just for that, I don’t think I should give you the present I found for you at an estate sale in London. Large estate. Old money estate. An entire library of musty, smelly, extremely obscure, old books." Krycek took a step closer to Mulder with each adjective, waving a wrapped square package he had pulled from the back of his jacket, in the air. Mulder released the door frame and came slowly closer, his nose practically sniffing the air. Krycek feinted and ran past him out the door. Mulder swore and ran after him. Skinner chuckled.

"Fox has a thing for strange books," he told his cousins. He noticed that Dom had a cold look on his face. "What?" Skinner asked. Dom shook his head and shot Marc a look that Skinner could only interpret as a severe warning. Marc flushed and threw his cleaning rag down, stalking out of the house.

"Boys, go outside and play for a while," Skinner asked them.

"Yes, Sir," they said, knowing when it was not a good time to listen to the adults. They ran outside to look for Alex and Uncle Fox.

"What was that all about?" Skinner asked Dominic in his AD voice.

"It doesn’t bother you that Alex was Marc’s..?" Dom asked with a look of disbelief as he waved his hand.

Skinner’s mind blanked out to be followed by a flash of images that scared the shit out of him. He turned and followed everyone else out the door.

"Stay here," he said to the boys, pointing at the house. He kept his voice calm, not wanting to scare them. They were too busy tumbling down the high rise of the lawn to notice Skinner’s altered mood.

Skinner strode past Marty, who frantically turned his jeep around and called out to Skinner to stop. Skinner stopped, but jumped into the passenger side of the jeep.

"Drive, Marty," he growled. Instead of lecturing Skinner that no one was allowed in a US Postal jeep except a US Postal employee, Marty drove. He asked very nicely if Skinner would sign the letter. Skinner signed for it and stuffed it into his back pocket. Minutes later, he was home and storming through the front door. Mulder and Krycek were sitting on the couch looking at the old book that Mulder was delicately paging through. They looked up at Skinner’s entrance and before they could say anything, Skinner had his hands on Krycek’s shirt, hauling him up off the couch, his feet barely touching the floor.

"Did you hurt him?" Skinner growled.

"Walter!" Mulder jumped to his feet, his eyes open in astonishment.

"What the hell is your problem?" Krycek yelped. Natti came running out of her room where she was watching a movie.

"Marcus! Did you hurt him!" Skinner gave Krycek a shake.

"No, Walter, he didn’t," came a voice at the door. Skinner dropped Krycek, who fell back onto the couch. Skinner strode over to Marc.

"Tell me the truth, Marc, I won’t let him touch you," Skinner promised his young cousin, putting his hands on Marc’s slim shoulders, looking into Marc’s brown eyes, looking for abuse.

"He didn’t hurt me, Walter, really," Marc insisted. "I told you, it was wonderful. He took his time, he was patient. It hurt a little at first, but after that it was the greatest feeling that I have every felt. I have no one to compare him to, but I’d say he’s a very good lover. Really." Marc smoothed Skinner’s tensed shoulders. "Don’t be mad at him, he made the initial offer and gave me the choice and the time to take it. I wanted him, Walter, please. Don’t be mad, everyone is mad at me, not you, too," Marc pleaded softly, his eyes sad.

"Walter," Mulder said calmly behind him. He put his hands on Skinner’s back, rubbing them gently over the tight muscles. "Come on, babe, I believe him. I also believe that Alex wouldn’t rape anyone."

Skinner shut his eyes, trying to calm himself. He loosened his grip on Marc’s shoulders and drew him in.

"I’m not mad at you, Marc," Skinner said. "I’m only worried for you. I wanted your first time to be good, that’s all."

Marc pulled off of Skinner’s shoulder and smiled a little.

"It was good," he insisted. "better than my dreams. I thought sex was going to be mechanical, but he made me feel alive. Come here, Alex," Marc held out a hand to Krycek, who was still on the couch, looking like a whipped dog that was ready to bite back. "Alex," Marc insisted. Mulder added his own weight to the invitation and motioned Krycek up.

Krycek stood resentfully, glaring at Skinner with the cold-blooded eyes of a killer. Marc stepped away from Skinner and put his mouth to Krycek’s. Surprised for a second, Krycek then responded, taking Marc’s breath away. He put his hands on the younger man’s waist and rubbed gently as they touched tongues.

Skinner had never imagined what Krycek kissing would look like, but it wouldn’t have been something that looked so good.

Marc took his time ending the kiss, giving Krycek’s cheek a stroke before turning back to Skinner and Mulder.

"He didn’t hurt me," Marc said, a new maturity in his voice as he squeezed Skinner’s arm.

Skinner pulled the reign on his anger, telling himself that Marc was an adult and that Alex knew what would happen if he hurt Marc. Skinner felt like an idiot for not thinking before he acted.

"Alex, I..."

Krycek took a step forward, fist raised and ready to fly. Mulder and Marc yelled, trying to keep the two men separate. Natti ran across the room to try and calm Krycek.

"Peace, please," Dom begged from the doorway. "I’m sorry. This is my fault."

Mulder kept his hands on Skinner, holding him back, while Marc and Natti attempted to hold Krycek back. Dom came forward, standing between them.

"Alex. Marky. I thought he knew," Dom explained. "I would never have blurted it out if I thought that he didn’t know. I even said it badly, Alex, his anger is my fault. Please."

Krycek shook Marc and Natti off. He stormed out the back door, stomping up the stairs. The door slammed shut.

"I’ll go and talk...." Mulder began.

"No, Fox, it’s my turn," Skinner said, turning to follow Krycek. He turned back, brushed Mulder’s mouth, and went out the back door.

He needed to put this right, there was too much conflict in their home. In a home of seven people, honesty was needed, boundaries drawn and respected; if not for the sake of the adults, then for the sake of three boys pulled in the middle. It was past due for Skinner to bury the hatchet, and not in Krycek’s back. The man had been trying but Skinner hadn’t given him a chance. He climbed the stairs and reached for the doorknob; he stopped. Waiting behind the first boundary line, he knocked.

"May I come in?" he asked politely when there was no response. "I’d like to talk, Alex."

He waited several minutes and slowly turned, his heart heavy. He was half way down the stairs when he heard the lock click. He climbed back up, pausing before turning the knob.

"May I come in?" he asked again, opening the door just a crack.

"Come," he heard reluctantly spoken. He stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him.

Krycek was sitting in the corner of his couch, arms crossed defensively. Skinner looked around. Krycek had slowly begun to decorate his flat with his own choice of furnishings. An entertainment center had been added and a desk for his computer, a small bookshelf with a few books. He was even surprised to see curtains blowing in an open window. Everything was neat and tidy, another trait that Skinner had not expected from Krycek.

"I’m sorry, Alex," Skinner said with all sincerity. "I should have asked you about it first." He gestured toward the chair at the desk. Krycek shrugged, not looking at him. Skinner pulled the chair out and turned it around, facing Krycek.

"All I could think about was our history together, can you understand that?" he asked gently. After a moment, Krycek gave a single nod. "We’ve both seen the worst that Humanity has to offer, we’ve seen nightmares that no sane person should ever have to witness. We’ve seen innocent people, children, destroyed in the name of whatever someone’s current cause is. Marc is an innocent. He’s a gentle, bewildered soul who has found himself right smack in the middle of a loud boisterous family in the middle of a loud dangerous city. In my own selfish way, I wanted him to have what I had; someone to show him the joy of life, not a quick, painful fuck in the back seat." Skinner could see that Krycek was paying attention, even if he was staring at the floor.

"First times are almost always completely forgettable experiences. Mine wasn’t. Fox is a wonderful lover, he made it perfect for me. I think that I saw myself in Marc and I wanted it to be wonderful for him, too. He’s too pretty, Alex, too trusting. You know as well as I do what kind of scum would have lured him in and turned him out."

Krycek nodded. He usually killed scum like that.

"When Dom said that you... I saw that palm pilot again, like a bad dream. I saw guns, blood, hospitals, Fox and Dana both being taken.. you killed a Hunter not too long ago. I saw Marc being grabbed. I don’t want him involved in the life that we have led, he’d never survive it."

Skinner stood up and sat at the end of the couch, facing Krycek.

"He says you were patient and caring with him. I’m sorry for doubting that you knew those qualities. If I doubt again, I promise to at least try and remember to ask you first, instead of accusing." Skinner held out his hand and waited.

"You had good reason to doubt," Krycek quietly admitted as he slowly put his hand in Skinner’s.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don’t get my thrills hurting innocent people," Krycek said, almost too low for Skinner to hear. "I don’t deny killing bastards who’ve deserved it, I’d do it again, but when I’ve had to hurt innocent people, like you, Scully.. I was under surveillance. Bad excuse, but it’s the truth.

"I would never have hurt Marc. He isn’t the first person that I’ve ‘initiated’ and I’m sure he won’t be the last. My own initiation was a gang rape, I didn’t want that for him. You’re right, Marc is too pretty. I hope it won’t happen, but if it does, I’ve given him good memories to fall back on. I made love to him, Skinner, I didn’t fuck him. I do know what making love is, and I enjoy it very much," he said in defense.

"I’m sorry, Alex, my view of you is a biased one, I admit it," Skinner said, leaning forward. "I’m trying very hard to get over that, and for the most part, I thought I did. The ‘nice’ side of you that I’ve seen has been you with the boys and getting to know Fox. Any time you spent with Sharon, was only with her. I guess we’re still strangers, after.. what? 25 years? About? Will you let me get to know you better?"

Krycek crossed his legs, leaning his elbows on them as he looked at the cushion. He whispered something, but Skinner didn’t hear him.

"I said, do you miss her?"

Skinner didn’t need to ask who. "I miss her very much. I was a lousy husband to her, I shut her out when I should have been letting her love me. She wanted the divorce, I didn’t. I wouldn’t sign the papers because I couldn’t stand the thought of her not being there when I woke up in the mornings. I thought that if I didn’t sign, there wouldn’t be a divorce, and I could win her back."

Krycek picked a stray thread and balled it up.

"I came to the funeral," he mumbled. Skinner was stunned.

"I didn’t see you," was all he could say. Krycek lifted a shoulder.

"You were too busy arguing with the Old Man. I’m just surprised that Fox or Scully didn’t shoot the bastard and toss him into the open grave for an easy burial," Krycek snorted wryly.

"What? They weren’t there," Skinner said. For the first time, Krycek looked up.

"Sure they were, right behind you, by the big oak tree. I figured they were avoiding him."

"I think I’m going to have to have a long talk with Fox," Skinner said. He knew, though, why his agents had been there and didn’t tell him; they were showing their support for him, knowing that he would never have accepted it.

"Let me know when so I can leave town."

Skinner looked at Krycek sitting in the corner of the couch, dejected. He hadn’t realized how much the younger man had changed over the past few years. The old Krycek would have punched Skinner in the face and left with a loud ‘fuck you!’; this Krycek actually seemed to care about Skinner’s opinion. Krycek had a slight pout which he was trying not to show. Skinner’s vision was suddenly juxtaposed with two little boys and he gave a chuckle.

"What?" Krycek asked.

"The twins. I just saw them as adults. In about 15 years, there’s going to be three of you running around."

"Heaven help the world?" Krycek suggested.

"Something like that," Skinner said, remembering his conversation with Mulder the night that Krycek had brought the boys to them. "I love them very much, Alex. I never thought I would love a child like this, not even one of my own. I know that I’m their uncle, but I feel like their father."

"Did you want children of your own?" Krycek asked, curious.

"At times. Probably a hormonal flux. Sometimes I felt real pain at wanting a child, sometimes I was convinced that I’d be as lousy a father as I was a husband. Since a bullet took away that choice, I just tried to put it out of my mind."

"It would have been dangerous for you to have a child," Krycek reminded him. Skinner nodded.

"Just one more bargaining chip," he said. "Besides, I was too selfish at the time."

Krycek stood and went to the refrigerator. He took out two beers and handed one to Skinner, sitting down again as he twisted the top off.

"So, did you want a girl or boy?"

Skinner chuckled.

"I could be politically correct and say anything as long as it was healthy, but then footballs come to mind. Having experienced a house full of sons, though, I think I’m ready for something sweet and pretty." He could see the wheels turning. "Don’t, Alex," he warned the man. "We have a full house already, no more children. Especially not a girl; that would kill Fox and destroy whatever’s left of Scully’s sanity."

Krycek nodded. "I forgot about that," he admitted.

The one subject that Mulder refused to discuss; the daughter that he and Scully had together. She had died within days of her birth in cardiac arrest due to a heart defect. She had been with them long enough for Mulder and Scully to fall in love with her.

"If I need a little girl running around for a while, I have cousins to borrow from," Skinner said.

"If you freak out over a cousin you hardly know losing his virginity, what are you going to do when the boys become sexually active?" Krycek asked in amusement. Skinner groaned, not wanting to think that far ahead.

"Probably go on a bender to forget that I’m getting old," he said. "How did you lose yours? With a woman, I mean?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"That was about the only thing that I can honestly thank the old man for," he said, lifting his beer in salute. "He sent me to a very expensive, very high-class call-girl for my 16^th birthday. She ‘serviced’ only the very elite of society. I spent two days and two night under her tender ministrations. It cost him a fortune."

"How considerate of him," Skinner said dryly. "Promise me that you’ll wait until the boys are 18 before you send them for ‘servicing’."

Krycek lifted his bottle again, "Hail the great god Priapas," he intoned solemnly.

"Blasphemy, and with a Priest in the house," Skinner reprimanded him, though amused. Krycek snorted, unimpressed. "What about with a man? Not counting your ‘initiation’."

"Same two days. She wanted a complete accounting for any past teenage groping so I told her about my history. She immediately sent for a friend of hers to join us. She believed in getting back onto a horse after falling off. Lucky for me, the guy was a decent size but he wasn’t a horse."

Skinner frowned; the numbers weren’t adding up right.

"But you were 16. How old were you when the other.. happened?"

"Rape, Walter, you can say it. I was 14. Man was pissed at Pop for some reason so he and a couple of his buddies cornered the old man’s kid with the pretty girl eyes." Krycek inspected the remainder of his beer and gulped it. Skinner was justifiably shocked.

"Did you tell anyone?" he asked.

"Yes. Spender. Right after I made my first three kills," he said dispassionately. Skinner ran his mind over the time period. He had been married to Sharon for about a year and a half when Alex was about 14. He suddenly recalled Sharon buying a birthday present in the spring. He was never even able to remember the time of year for Krycek’s birthday until this moment.

"I remember you being in the hospital for a while. Sharon was worried. I thought it was appendicitis."

Krycek nodded. "Actually, those bastards perforated my bowel. I needed surgery. Old man told everyone that it was my appendix. He actually had his doctors remove it at the same time they fixed the tear."

Skinner swallowed the rest of his beer. "Another thing to apologize for; I should have been there for you. My own wife’s little brother and I never even tried. I should have been a better brother-in-law."

Krycek inclined his head toward Skinner’s hand.

"You still are my brother-in-law," he reminded Skinner. Skinner looked down at his left hand, the gold band shining on his finger. "We all have things in our past that we would change if we could, but we can’t. Use my philosophy, Walter," Krycek leaned forward, about to impart great wisdom.

"If you can’t do anything about it, just say ‘fuck it!’ and move on."

******************

He found everyone sitting in the kitchen when he went back down, so he sat himself at the table.

"Did you yell at Alex?" Ivan asked. Skinner lifted him onto his lap.

"Yes, I did," he admitted.

"Did you say sorry?"

"Yes, I did."

Ivan kissed his cheek and hopped down to go and play. Mulder pushed his coffee over for Skinner to share.

"Is it alright if I go up?" Marc asked. Skinner nodded.

"Knock first, and respect his wishes if he wants to be alone."

Skinner slouched in the chair, his head thrown back.

"Is he alright?" Mulder asked quietly.

"I think so. We had a good talk. I even learned a few things about him that I never knew. Dom, why are you being so hard on Marc?" Skinner switched to the other person without a pause or lifting his head. Dom contemplated his coffee.

"Religious reasons aside, I changed his diapers. Watching a baby grow into a man, and having all your hopes and dreams for him thrown out the window in a single instant, is a shattering experience. What would you do if one of your boys moved onto a path that you knew deep in your heart was wrong?"

Skinner straightened up and looked Dom in the eyes.

"I think your reason is an incredibly self-centered one and has more to do with what you want than what he wants. I hope that I love and trust my boys enough that they will make the decisions for their lives that they have to make, and that I will respect their choices. And no matter what they do, I hope that they love and trust me enough to know that I will always be here for them."

"Very correct," Dom responded.

"Also very true," Skinner said. "Fox, I need to go into the city for a while."

Mulder inclined his head, accepting Skinner’s need without asking for an explanation. Skinner took his car keys from the keyrack on the wall. He bent down and kissed Mulder, pouring his passion for the younger man into the act, before backing away and going up to his room for his wallet.

Just after Skinner left, Mulder noticed the registered envelope sitting on the table and picked it up, turning it curiously. It was from a lawyer’s office in Seattle.

Ninety minutes later, Skinner was jabbing a fist hard at a bag handing from the ceiling. Sweat poured off of him as he punched right and then left, grunting with the effort. None of the other men offered to spar with him; they could see the bad head-space that he was in. He pictured a face and swung at it, feeling the adrenaline rush through his muscles and his body. Face after face was punched at until his arms began to grow weary.

He stood under the shower, hands on the wall in front of his as he let the hot stream cascade down his back. He was so sick and tired of all the crap, of having to explain himself to various clergy, to his new family, of being on guard. It was no one’s fucking business what went on in his house!

A couple other men came in, quickly showered off, and left. He wondered if they would have used the shower if they knew that he showered quite often with another man. Skinner noticed nothing more until a hand reached around and shut off the water. He turned to bark at the intruder. Krycek.

"What are you doing here?" Skinner asked. Krycek handed him a towel.

"Helping you find trouble. I figured it was my specialty so I left Fox to watch his kids."

Skinner frowned and dried his face and head.

"I don’t need help finding trouble."

Krycek turned to walk out of the shower. "I could go a long way with that statement," he said over his shoulder, his boots echoing on the tile. Skinner must have really been out of it not to have heard Krycek enter.

Half an hour later, Skinner was attempting to corner the 8 ball. He missed.

"Ha!" Krycek raised a triumphant fist. Skinner handed over five dollars. He never claimed pool as one of his accomplishments, so he bet double or nothing on the darts. He was always a better shot than Krycek.

"I made a discovery today," Skinner said. Krycek’s dart landed at the edge of the outer circle.

"And what would that be?" he asked. Skinner’s dart was centered.

"I discovered that my family is human."

Krycek stopped his aim to look briefly at Skinner.

"Welcome to Earth," he said, sending his dart flying. "Let’s see if you were paying attention to the Gospel of Alex; what’s my first Commandment?"

Skinner paused in taking a gulp from his beer bottle.

"Fuck it?" he said after a moment. Krycek patted him on the head.

"Very good! What’s my second Commandment?"

Skinner had no idea so he shrugged.

"How would you know, I haven’t told you," Krycek said. "Alex’s second Commandment is –confession is good for the soul. So confess; have you ever done Scully?"

Skinner choked on his beer.

"No, why?" he asked between coughs. Krycek smacked helpfully between the shoulder blades. Skinner was sure his teeth were going to fly out.

"Better question is why not? She’s hot, Walter."

Skinner’s darts all crowded the center of the board.

"I’m aware of her temperature," he said. "Honestly? I’ve never asked her because of timing. She was with Fox, I was AD; I was with Fox, she’s AD. We have children in the house, delicate job positions to consider..."

Krycek held up a hand.

"Let me get this straight, excuse the term. If there were no kids and no sensitive jobs, you’d ask her?" Krycek didn’t believe it.

"Sure." Skinner waited for Krycek to shoot.

"With or without Fox?"

"Both."

Krycek’s dart hit the wall. "You? A threesome?!"

"If they both agreed, yes. I’m a little anal retentive, Alex, I’m not a prude."

"Can you picture Scully’s face as she watches you and Fox fucking?" Krycek laughed, bending over to slap his thigh in his glee. "I’m sorry I ruined your orgy plans," he said between chuckles. Skinner had a vision of the twins in 35 years time. He hoped he was still around to see them. "Let me know when you need the space for a party, I know people with the proper settings that you can borrow. I’ll expect an invite, though, that’s one show I don’t want to miss." It was Skinner’s turn to hit the hall.

"Have you...?" he asked. Krycek shrugged and tossed a dart.

"Sure, I’ve been to some really great parties. This is what happens when old fogies settle down and start a family, Walter," he waggled a finger at Skinner. "They miss out on the best parties."

"And what do you think you’d do at an orgy with me and Fox? Assuming that Scully would even let you through the door." Skinner asked. Krycek slinked over to him and put an arm around his shoulder.

"What do you think I’d do with you naked at my feet?" he asked teasingly. "You in that gym shower is going to supply a hell of a lot of fantasy material." He nipped at Skinner’s ear.

Skinner flushed and shoved Krycek off him.

"Hey! This ain’t no fag bar!" came a yell from the tables.

Since Krycek had chosen the worst bar in the worst part of town to swish into, Skinner knew it was only a matter of time before one of the greasy leather clad porkers took exception to Krycek’s wiggling butt. It took an entire forty minutes.

"It isn’t?" Krycek asked in amazement. "Sorry, sweet cheeks, I took one look at you and thought I was in fag heaven!"

And the fight was on.

The loud mouthed biker came at Krycek with a bottle and a roar as others grabbed cue sticks, chairs, knives and chains. Considering Krycek’s hand to hand combat was almost as bad as Mulder’s, Skinner knew that this was a bad idea. A table flew past his head and smashed into the mirror behind the bar. The smell of alcohol immediately filled the air. Krycek tossed a cue stick to Skinner and they both blocked and swung at their attackers. Skinner’s stick broke in half over a head, so he swung out his fist. The man went down. Skinner shook his head in disappointment; glass jaw. Unfortunately, their fun was put to a halt by the police very quickly.

"Officer, we were minding our own business, just playing darts, a couple of beers, buddies talking, when that man decided he liked my ass," Krycek said indignantly, pointing at the greasy biker lying semi-conscious on the floor. "He wouldn’t take no for an answer and he touched me. What was I supposed to do? I clocked him like any real man would."

Skinner verified Krycek’s story.

"That’s a fucking lie!" one of the women spat out. Krycek gave the officer Ivan’s innocent dimples and glittering eyes.

******************

"I should let you both stew in here until morning and hand you over to Mulder!"

The officer had run their ID’s. They found nothing on Krycek, big surprise, but they took one look at Skinner’s return, straightened fast enough for spines to crack, and called Assistant Director Scully of the FBI who now glared at them from the other side of the bars.

The bikers were in another cell, for which Skinner was exceedingly grateful, since Krycek insisted on cuddling close and blowing kisses to the other men. Skinner had to slap his hand a couple of times from wandering but that didn’t slow Krycek down from playing with fire.

"It was a simple misunderstanding," Skinner told Scully. She put her hands on her hips and shifted to the other foot.

"You and him, in a biker bar, is no misunderstanding," she quickly threw back.

"Don’t I get a lawyer?" Krycek complained. Scully turned her glare on to him.

"And which charge over the past forty years would you like to plea bargain for first?" she asked with saccharin politeness.

"Never mind," Krycek sank back onto the bench next to Skinner. They looked up at Scully like two little boys brought before the school principal. She shook her head in disbelief.

"Most men at least have enough sanity to take their mid-life crisis out on an affair with a twenty year old bimbo, not pick fights at a biker bar. Go home," she ordered them. She turned and stalked out of the holding pen, gesturing to the guard to release them.

"Were we just told to leave town or else?" Krycek asked Skinner.

"Home, Alex!" Skinner said forcefully.

The burger joint was in full swing as kids 18-25 danced to the juke box, ate burgers and downed cokes and beers. The music was loud, the waitresses rude and the burgers the best greasy burgers Skinner had ever had. Skinner wasn’t sure if felt more out of place at the biker bar or here with the kids. Krycek had watched the young adults dancing for a while before beginning to compare dancing styles throughout the decades and in different countries.

"You don’t dance!" Skinner said in disbelief.

"Of course I do," Krycek assured him. "I got dragged around to state functions most of my life by Smokey. He didn’t want me to embarrass him so he sent me to finishing school when I was 17. I’ve danced with queens, and I don’t mean Fox."

Skinner threw a fry at him.

"There’s something to be said for formal dancing," Krycek waxed with a waving of his wrist. "Not like this," he gestured toward the bodies jerking and jumping in time with the rock music. "This is fun, yes, but nations have negotiated contracts over a perfectly timed waltz. These kids wouldn’t know what to do with a 3-4 beat if it hit them in the face."

As if cued, the next song came on the juke box. A few hearty souls tried to dance but soon sat down.

"See?" Krycek crowed. He stood up just as the door opened. "Not only do schools nowadays not even teach the basics," he said loudly, drawing attention. "They don’t even teach civilized behavior." Some of his audience began to hoot and cheer him on. Krycek turned to his admirers as Scully watched in disbelief.

"This, boys and girls, is a 3-4 beat," he pointed over his shoulder to the juke box. "1,2,3,1,2,3, get it? It’s a waltz. You don’t drag your partner over the floor, you ask her politely for a dance. May I have this dance?" he asked with a small bow, holding out his hand to Scully. Scully looked askance at Skinner who shrugged helpfully. Dubious, she placed her hand in Krycek’s. Several of the young men whistled and cat-called.

"You take her GENTLY into your arms," he instructed them. "Do NOT grab her, nor do you paw her and hump her like the dogs you are." The boys boo-ed and the girls shrieked, yelling their agreements.

"You’re drunk," Scully accused.

"Slightly buzzed," Krycek conceded. "Your left hand gently holds her right," he continued as Scully placed her hand in his palm. "Do not mangle her delicate fingers, allow them to simply rest in your palm. Your right hand rests on her waist, NOT her butt," he glared at the young men who howled in protest.

"Yeah!" a young lady yelled and knocked her boyfriend’s shoulder.

Scully’s left hand rested on Krycek’s right shoulder. She was suddenly conscious of the fettered strength in him, his corded muscles ready to spring at any given moment. Her face flushed as a heat raced through her. Krycek took a step forward and she automatically followed. Scully was shocked to discover that he actually could dance, and gracefully at that. She and her sister and brothers had learned as children; Navy bases had formal cotillions quite often.

He glided her across the floor, counting out loud for his rowdy audience.

"1,2,3,1,2,3, see? It may be a new and popular song, but the beats haven’t changed since the first heart began to beat." He focused his attention on their feet, exaggerating the steps for the young people to follow.

One of the girls jumped to her feet and dragged her boyfriend out onto the floor. She thumped him into straightening his back and getting their hands in the proper positions. They faltered on the first step as she stepped forward instead of back and got her toes squished. She stopped and took a close look at Krycek and Scully. Krycek obligingly stopped and started over again so that the young lady could see.

Several other couples reluctantly stood up, the young men figuring that is this dark and dangerous dude in the leather jacket could do a hokey dance with the first beautiful woman that walks in the door, they could do it, too. One girl insisted that her boyfriend ask her properly for a dance. He reddened as his friends shouted and laughed, but eventually held out his hand with a mumbled plea.

The waitresses and the cook watched in disbelief and began to wonder about possible food poisoning behind the behavior of the Stepford Children.

Skinner watched from their table with amusement. He knew that Krycek had a few beers in him, or he would never be attempting to give a dancing lesson nor would he be waltzing Scully around the floor. In public. Skinner had blackmail material. Too bad he didn’t have a camera, Mulder would never believe it. The song ended and he noticed that Scully was a bit flustered as she stepped away. He really couldn’t blame her, Krycek was a sight to behold when he was being charming. He wondered if Scully would ever overcome her hatred for Krycek; with all the sparks they generate, the bed would probably ignite.

She sat next to Skinner and took his iced tea, gulping it.

"How’d you know we were here, Dana?" Skinner asked.

"I didn’t actually think that you’d go home right away, so I had you tailed," she admitted. "Your shadow thought that your being in here was strange enough to tell me about it."

Krycek sat down and lowered his head onto the table with a groan. Scully reached into her purse and took out a small bottle, deliberately slamming it onto the table.

"Ow!" Krycek winced and grabbed his head in pain. "You’re a cruel woman, Scully," he informed her as he delicately opened the bottle and shook out a couple of aspirin.

"What are you doing, Walter?" she asked him. Skinner signaled for another glass of tea.

"I needed some down time. Alex thought he’d be able to help me find trouble."

"You don’t need help," she said. Both men chuckled.

"That’s what he said," Krycek told her.

"Un-huh. And what does Mulder think about this?" she waved a finger between the men.

"It was either this or kill Dominic and Alex."

Skinner told her about their run-in earlier in the day. When he was done, Scully was frowning in confusion.

"I thought you were with Emilia?" she asked Krycek. He took a sip of iced tea and made a face.

"I have fun with Emilia," he said. "I’m not ‘with’ anyone. Can you really picture me going steady?"

She honestly couldn’t. "And she doesn’t mind that you see other people?"

Krycek looked at her steadily. "Not that I need to answer to you, but Emilia doesn’t need an excuse to enjoy her body or anyone else’s body, and neither do I. If you really want to know what she thinks about it, you should ask her, not me. I like sex, so does she. Neither of us have a problem asking for what we want, or even setting up a fantasy scene. It’s fun." His expression dared her to ask another personal question. She didn’t.

"My turn," he said. "Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time?"

Scully flushed and avoided looking at Skinner. She shook her head.

"You should try it," Krycek advised her. "A lot less performance pressure, more possibilities, no one dreaming of white weddings, just a night of mindless orgasms induced by the man or woman of your choice."

Skinner could feel Scully tensing beside him as she studied her glass. Krycek was deliberately baiting her.

"Alex," he warned.

"What? I’d like to see her get off that pedestal for once and join the living."

Scully abruptly pushed back and jumped up, racing out of the diner. The other customers watched her and then looked back at the men before going about their business.

"That was incredibly cruel, Alex," Skinner informed him. "You might as well have hauled off and put a knife in her gut, it would have hurt her less."

"Bullshit, Walter, I’m tired of her constantly judging me! She’s waiting with baited breath for me to fuck up, she practically has an orgasm just thinking about arresting me. She’s always been a bitch with me, has been from day one, and nothing I do pleases her!" he smacked the table, rattling the glasses.

"Why should pleasing Scully concern you?" Skinner asked quietly. Krycek waited for a moment before stomping out of the diner. Skinner puffed out a breath. Maybe he should just go home before a leg followed both the feet he had already shoved into his own mouth during the course of the day.

********************

********************

"...and then he left. I don’t know where he went to. I tried to call Scully, but she isn’t answering her phone, and she didn’t answer her door when I went over." Skinner looked into the water, flicking his finger at his reflection. Mulder put his arms around him, pulling Skinner back against his chest. He cupped some of the warm water and poured it over Skinner’s chest.

"I’ll call her tomorrow," he said, pressing his mouth to Skinner’s shoulder. "Let Alex cool down. I don’t think that you said anything wrong, he gets a little one-tracked and sometimes needs a fact shoved into his face before he takes notice."

"Must be genetic," Skinner muttered. Mulder splashed him and reached down to grab Skinner between the legs.

"Apologize!" Mulder insisted as he squeezed. Water sloshed over the side of the tub as the men wrestled.

"Make me," Skinner murmured, staring into Mulder’s hazel eyes. Mulder reached between Skinner’s legs again as Skinner eased back against his chest.

****************

Just after midnight, Skinner put his glasses on to read the letter he had forgotten about. He frowned, a little confused.

"What?" Mulder asked sleepily. He curled around Skinner’s hip and snuggled his face against Skinner’s warm waist.

"I call Washington tomorrow. Washington State. I have something waiting at my father’s old lawyer’s office for me. From an uncle in Hungary. I’ll have them send it down here to Harry’s office."

"I didn’t know you had relatives in Hungary," Mulder murmured.

"Neither did I. Although whether or not you could say he was still in Hungary is semantics. He’s dead."

End.