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Disclaimer: Mulder, Krycek, Scully and all other X-Files characters who get thrown into this mix do not belong to me. Chris Carter owns 'em. I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow them for a little fun, though.

Rated NC-17 This is not a story for the kiddies. If naughty words and strong same-sexual images disturb you, run! Go and never come back. There’s tons of angst, a touch of violence, bad words, a whole bunch of sweet moments and even...dare I say it...the "L" word thrown in for good measure. If sugar isn’t in your diet, I’ll give you a second warning. Run!!

Admission II
Awakening

By Aries

As my life goes on I believe
Somehow something’s changed
Something deep inside
A part of me
There’s a strange new light in my eyes
Things I’ve never known
Changin’ my life
Changin’ me
I’ve been searchin’
So long
To find an answer
Now I know my life has meaning
Now I see myself as I am
Feeling very free
Love means everything
It’s meant to be

I’ve Been Searching for So Long ~ Chicago

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

Thursday, 1:57 p.m.

"I don’t understand this, Mulder. How can there not be an exit wound?" Scully massaged her temples and paced the cluttered length of their shared office. "The M.E. went up one side of that body and down the other." She threw the coroner’s report down onto Mulder’s desk. "He can’t even find the damn bullet!" She paused, hands on hips, waiting for a response. Mulder rolled a pen back and forth between his fingers. His eyes focused on nothing. "Mulder..."

"Hmm?"

"Have you heard a word I said?"

"Sure."

"And?"

"And, what?"

"You’ve got no thoughts?"

"About what?"

"The dead guy! Entrance wound! No bullet, no exit wound!"

Mulder raised and lowered his eyebrows. "Interesting."

"That’s all you can say? Mulder, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing," she repeated. "In the last five weeks, we’ve had at least two cases that I was sure you’d be salivating over! And yet, it seems like I’m doing all the work!" She moved to the side of the desk and sat down. "Mulder, what’s wrong? Do you not feel well?"

"I’m fine."

"And I’m tired of these one or two word answers. Talk to me, dammit!" Before he could answer, she pointed a finger and threatened him. "Tell me nothing again, and I swear, I’ll shoot you."

Mulder tapped the pen to his forehead. "Sorry, Scully. There are just... I’ve had some things on my mind, that’s all."

"What things?"

"I’d rather not talk about it."

"You have to talk about it. Whatever it is, it’s interfering with your job. And in our line of work, I don’t have to tell you that distraction can be a dangerous thing."

"I know."

"So let’s have it." She tried a little levity. "Is it woman trouble?" It was an inside joke between them. Neither could remember the last relationship they’d had, and the mention of it had usually reduced them both to giggles. Not today.

"I wish it was that simple."

His reply puzzled her. She patted his hand. "Okay then, what gives?"

"I can’t."

"Can’t what? Can’t talk to me? Why not?"

"It’s... I just can’t."

"Mulder, I’m sorry. I can see that this is upsetting you. But you need to get it off your chest... for both our sakes."

He lowered his eyes to the desktop. "I need to be able to trust you, Scully."

"I’ve gone to jail in the interest of preserving the trust between us."

She was right. He could trust her with this. She was his best friend. Shit, she was his only friend. She’d understand. He hoped she’d understand.

"Not here, okay?"

"Your place?"

"No. Yours. After work."

"Fine. I’ll order a pizza."

He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "What, no three course meal?"

"Only if you want to go to a restaurant instead."

"No. We need to be alone."

Scully emitted a long sigh. "You’re really worrying me, Mulder."

"Don’t. I’ll be okay." He picked the folder up and opened it. He perused the contents for a few moments, then looked up at Scully, who was still staring curiously at him. "Okay, how about this? The body dissolved the bullets..."

4:00 p.m.

Alex Krycek stretched out on the decrepit twin bed that sat in the middle of the tiny, run down motel room and checked his watch. Nine hours. He dropped his hand and stared up at the yellow-tiled ceiling.

6:45 p.m.

Scully flipped the top on the pizza box, allowing the steam to escape.

"Smells good."

"Well," she encouraged Mulder, "eat up."

He lifted a slice a stared at it.

"You going to study it, or eat it?"

Mulder took a bite and set the pizza down on the plate in front of him. Scully was almost done with her first slice, before she decided to needle him. "Mulder, don’t tell me you’re not hungry. You didn’t have any lunch and God only knows what you had or didn’t have for breakfast."

Mulder gave no answer. He picked the pizza up and took another bite. "Okay?" he asked around a mouthful of sausage and mushrooms. Scully shook her head.

"Let’s talk about what you came here to talk about." Scully tucked one leg up under herself and slung an arm over the back of the sofa. "What’s going on?"

"Sheesh. Couldn’t you at least let me enjoy my supper?"

"Mulder..."

Mulder tossed the half eaten slice back onto the plate. He looked up at her. If she didn’t know him better, she’d say that the look in his eyes was one of fear. She brought a clenched hand to her mouth and waited.

"That umm... that comment you made earlier... it wasn’t entirely off base. Well... it was, and it wasn’t."

"What comment was that?" Scully paused a few seconds, then asked, "That comment I made about you having woman problems?"

"Yeah."

"Mulder... are you involved with a woman?"

"No."

"So then... what?"

"Sc... Scully, listen to me. What I’m going to tell you is very difficult to say. It’ll probably change the way you see me, forever. And, it could very well mean the end of my career if anyone found out."

"If anyone finds out whatever this is, I can promise you, they won’t hear it from me." She leaned forward and took his hand. "Mulder, I’m your friend. Friends are friends no matter what... tell me."

Mulder swallowed the dryness that had suddenly claimed his throat. "Five weeks ago, I had a... a... I spent a night with someone."

"Hasn’t that been what I’ve been asking you?"

"Yes, but... you were wrong on one count."

"What count was that?"

Mulder closed is eyes and bowed his head.

"Mulder, come on. Just say it."

"It wasn’t a woman."

Scully blinked slowly, trying to absorb what it was that her partner was trying to tell her. "Mulder, are you telling me..." she shook her head. "Are you telling me that you spent the night with a..."

Mulder’s eyes remained focused on the sofa cushion between them. "A man."

Scully felt her head begin to pound. "How? Uh... wha... are you saying that you’re..."

"I don’t know what I’m saying. It was a one time thing, Scully. I don’t know why. I could give so many reasons, I guess... I’d had a couple of drinks. I was tired... lonely... confused. But I don’t know that any of them are entirely correct. I was... sick... after. Physically sick."

Scully moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "Mulder..."

He looked up at her, tears shimmering in his eyes. "You know what the worst part is? The worst part is that I can’t stop thinking about it."

"Have you seen him again?"

"No. He left while I was throwing up in the bathroom and I haven’t seen him since."

"This happened in your apartment?"

Mulder nodded.

Scully winced. "Is this someone you know?"

Trust or no trust, he couldn’t tell her that it was Alex Krycek.

"I can’t tell you that, Scully. Please understand. I’ll just say that it wasn’t anyone at the Bureau, in case you were wondering."

"Okay, Mulder. That’s good enough. So... umm, you said that you can’t stop thinking about it. In what way? Is it like, a recurring nightmare?"

"Only after I get past the point where I come in his mouth." His sudden candor shocked Scully, but she tried to mask her surprise.

"I see."

"Do you? Do you really see what I’m telling you, Scully? I lay naked in my bed with a man and let him give me the most amazing blow job of my life, and I loved it. Then, a matter of minutes after it was over, I wished I was dead."

"Because of what you’d done, or because of how you felt while you were doing it?"

"I don’t know."

"What about this man? I know you don’t want to tell me who he is, but tell me this. How do you feel about him?"

No answer.

"Is there a chance that you might ever see him again?"

"I guess there’s always a chance, but I get the feeling that after that night, he’ll do his best to keep his distance."

"You said that he left while you were in the bathroom. So you didn’t talk to him at all afterward?"

"No... he left a note."

"What did it say?"

"It just said, ‘Forgive me.’"

"‘Forgive me.’ Sounds like he instigated this?"

Mulder though a minute. "My first response would be to say yes, but you know, the more I think about it, the more unsure I am. Shit. I’m not sure about anything."

"Mulder, why don’t you take a long weekend? Get out of that apartment and clear your head?"

"Scully, I don’t think..."

"Do it, Mulder. You’ve spent every night for the last five weeks in your apartment, where it happened, rehashing it. You need to be somewhere else for a while, to get your head together."

"Maybe you’re right."

"Of course, I am. Why don’t you go up to Rhode Island? Stay at your mother’s summer house? Notify Skinner, then leave tomorrow."

Mulder nodded. "I think I will. I need to sort this out."

"And for tonight, you can stay right here."

"Scully, I..."

"Mulder, I can’t stand the thought of you spending another night alone in that apartment with your guilt. Stay here. You can go home to change in the morning. Okay?"

"How can you be so kind, after what I’ve just told you?"

"Mulder, you’ve committed no crime. You’ve hurt no one... except maybe yourself, and there’s no way in the world that I’m going to desert you, no matter how unworthy of my friendship you think you are. I’m with you all the way on this. The fact that you spent the night with another man doesn’t change who you are. You’re still the same stubborn, brilliant, dry-witted, half-baked idea spewing, sincere man, that I love and respect."

"Thank you, Scully. You have no idea how much weight you’ve taken off me, already."

"I’m glad I could make it a little better. Anything more that I can do, you know I will."

Scully held out her arms and Mulder leaned into them, gratefully. "I don’t know what I’d do without you," he murmured into her shoulder.

"You must be tired," she joked. "You’re starting to get mushy on me."

They spent the rest of the evening, making light conversation and watching television, until Mulder fell asleep at around ten-thirty. Scully tucked a blanket around him and switched off all the lights. She stood, studying him in the pale light that streamed in from the hall. "How much more does he have to suffer?" she asked no one in particular. "How much more?"

Friday, 1:28 a.m.

"Krycek!"

"What?"

"Wake up, man! You gonna help me move this shit, or what?"

Krycek heaved himself out of the passenger’s seat of the truck and walked around to the back.

"I thought someone was supposed to be here to pick this stuff up?" he asked, looking around the almost empty warehouse.

"Don’t know," his companion shrugged. "Let’s get it all out of the truck, then I’ll see if I can find out what’s goin’ on."

They unloaded the roughly, twelve boxes from the back of the truck. Krycek planted his hands on his hips and glanced around. "Well?"

The other man pulled a cell phone from his pocket and pressed a few buttons. "Ah shit," he cursed. "Fuckin’ thing won’t work in here. Keep an eye on those boxes. I’ll be right back."

The driver wasn’t gone for more than twenty-seconds when Krycek began to smell a rat. Something was definitely wrong, here. If the contents of those boxes were as valuable as he was led to believe, there was no way in hell that he’d be standing in a warehouse, waiting for someone to show up to claim them.

He broke for the door and almost made it out before the truck exploded.

10:15 a.m.

Scully watched Mulder throw the leather bag into the trunk of his car. "You’ll call as soon as you get in, right?"

"Yeah."

"Are you listening to me?"

"I’m listening, Scully."

"I’m serious. Do not forget to call me."

"I won’t forget."

She scowled at him for a moment, before nodding. "I don’t want to see you back here before Wednesday."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I’m serious, Mulder. You’ve got a lot of thinking to do. There’s a lot to sort out."

"I know."

"If you feel like you need to talk, you can call me. But don’t you come back here. There’s nothing going on at work that I can’t handle alone."

Mulder stood silently watching the occasional car pass them by. "You won’t forget to feed my fish, will you? And water my plant?"

"Mulder, that plant has been dead for three months. Give up. It’s not coming back."

"It’s just in a resting phase."

"Uh... yeah. Okay Mulder, I’ll water it. And I’ll feed the fish, don’t worry. Now, get going. As it is, you’ll probably hit some traffic."

Mulder opened the car door, then turned back to her. "Thanks again, Scully... for not making me feel any dirtier than I already do."

"Make that one of the things you work on, okay? You’re not dirty. You’re human. With human feelings and human needs."

"Then why do I feel so much less then human?"

"That’s the guilt talking. You have to let it go."

"But Scully, what if I’m..." he shuddered. "What if I’m... I can’t even say it."

"Mulder, one encounter with a man doesn’t make you gay. And so what if you were? What does it change, except for sex... which neither of us gets a whole lot of, anyway?"

Mulder smiled.

"Ha! I saw that!"

"You know, I hope you don’t mind me saying this Scully, but I’m glad I didn’t go my whole adult life not knowing what it would be like to have a sister."

It was Scully’s turn to smile. "Why should I mind that? Don’t ever tell my mother this, but I feel closer to you than I do to either of my brothers. I tell you things I’d never tell them."

"Wow. Really?"

"Yeah. Now would you leave, already?"

"Okay, I’m going."

They embraced, then Scully pushed him toward the open door. "Call me!"

"I know!"

She closed the door after his long legs were safely tucked into the car and back away. She watched until the Ford was out of sight, then started toward her own car.

8:45 p.m.

Mulder pulled up to the dark house and stopped the engine. He chewed his bottom lip as he sat, contemplating spending four days alone with nothing but his thoughts. Did he really want to spend all that time thinking about what he and Alex Krycek had done? What if the conclusions he came to about his feelings made him just as sick as he’d been that night? He was afraid. So terribly afraid that he’d make the decision to find Krycek and hash this out. Afraid that if they did, they’d end up right back where they started. He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Unbidden images of he and his male lover entered his thoughts. Strong hands, gently touching and caressing. That mouth, so warm and insistent, all over him, sending delicious ripples of pleasure, through his body...

Mulder’s eyes snapped open. He groaned, feeling the ache in his jeans.

Son of a bitch.

He flung himself out of the car and popped the trunk. He grabbed his bag and slammed the trunk lid. Muttering to himself, he stomped up the three steps to the front door and inserted the key. It stuck, and he had all he could do, to get the door unlocked. "Shit!" He cursed, not caring if the neighbors were asleep. Finally, the door swung open. He threw his bag inside and proceeded to wrestle the key out of the lock. He barreled into the kitchen and threw open the door to the cabinet where his father had always kept tools and other household repair necessities. After throwing much of the contents onto the floor, he found a half full can of WD-40. He returned to the door and jammed the tiny red straw into the lock.

"Take that, motherfucker," he whispered, spraying until the liquid dripped out of the lock and down the door. He reinserted the key, pushing it in and out a few times, then turned it roughly, back and forth. Satisfied, he snatched the key back out of the lock, and kicked the door shut. He walked to the kitchen, turning lights on as he went and plugged the refrigerator in. He put away the few groceries he’d purchased at the small store down the road and packed the milk and other cold items in ice, until the fridge got cold. That done, he retrieved his bag from the living room and took it into the bedroom that had been his, so many years ago. He walked over to the window and threw it open, then pulled the coverings off of the furniture. He eyed the twin-sized boy’s bed doubtfully.

"Oh yeah, that’d be real comfy."

He went to the hall closet and pulled out a blanket and pillow and held them to his nose. "Not as bad I thought." He carried them to the living room and placed them on a plastic covered chair while he uncovered the sofa. He worked quickly, ignoring the screaming erection that still tormented him.

Once he’d made up the sofa, he kicked off his shoes and fell onto his makeshift bed. "Shit," he mumbled, reaching behind him, to pull his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.

The soft voice on the other end, calmed him a bit. "Mulder?"

"What if it was your mother?"

"Are you kidding? My mother isn’t usually up any later than nine-thirty. Did you just get there?"

"A few minutes ago."

"How was the drive?"

"Not too bad. Hit a little traffic in New Jersey, but that’s about it."

"Hmm. Okay then, I’m glad you made it there, all right. You must be beat. Get some sleep."

"Yeah, I am. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, don’t worry, okay? I’ll definitely call on Sunday."

"Sure. I understand. You get some rest now."

"Goodnight, Scully."

"Night, Mulder."

He disconnected and tossed the phone on the nearby chair. It hit the plastic, and slid to the floor. He grimaced and flipped onto his side. The lights were all still on, but he had no intention of getting up to shut them off. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for sleep to take him, so he couldn’t feel the urgent demands of his body. Ten minutes later, he threw the cover off and sat at the edge of the sofa.

"No. Not this time. Not again."

He clenched his hands together and rested his forehead against them.

Tell Alex what you want.

He shook his head from side to side.

Let me give you what you need.

"Shut up."

Admit it to yourself.

"No!" Mulder jumped up and began to pace wildly. "I admit nothing! I don’t want you, so just leave me the fuck alone! My life was fine before that night..." He rattled on. "..well maybe not fine, but at least I never doubted my manhood, for Christ sake!"

Tell me, Fox. Tell Alex what you want.

"No... no!"

The front door crashed against the wall as Mulder flung it open and ran out into the chilly night air. His flat out sprint soon turned into a jog, as his angry energy spent itself. The jog turned into a walk and his head began to clear a bit. He walked a little further, then turned around and headed back to the house.

Saturday, 7:20 a.m.

Mulder awoke from the first dreamless sleep he’d had in weeks. His eyes opened slowly and focused on the wood paneling above the back of the harvest gold sofa. He tried, but could barely recall what time he finally made it back to the house. He’d fallen, exhausted onto the sofa and drifted into sleep, almost immediately. And even thought he’d only had a few hours, he felt better than he had in some time. He swung his legs off of the sofa, then got up and headed for the bathroom and a nice, warm shower.

3:35 p.m.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hey! I didn’t expect to hear from you."

"I know. I just thought I’d check in."

"How’s it going?"

"Well," Mulder hesitated. "I sort of hit a little rough patch last night, but I’m doing much better, today."

"That’s good," she replied in her most encouraging voice, but in her mind, she wondered how much difference a day could make, especially after a bad night. "So, what happened to make you feel so much better?"

"A decent night’s sleep. It does wonders."

She couldn’t let him delude himself. "Mulder... as messed up as you’ve been, I really don’t think that a little sleep is going to help all that much."

His tone became a bit indignant. "How do you know? Sleep deprivation can do a lot of bad stuff to a person."

"Mulder, don’t you even think about coming home, do you hear me? You stay your ass right there and do what you went to do!"

Silence.

"Mulder? Do you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you."

"You’d better. Give me call tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah."

Mulder pressed ‘end’ and dropped heavily onto the sofa. He wanted to be angry with Scully, but he knew that she was just concerned about him. So okay, he’d stay until Tuesday. What the hell, he could use some more rest. If a little sleep was good, a lot of sleep had to be better, and by the time Tuesday rolled around, he’d forget all about this shit. Having completely convinced himself, he headed out to the kitchen for a sandwich.

Sunday, 2:15 a.m.

The ringing doorbell roused Scully from a deep sleep. She glanced at the alarm clock and cursed. Mulder. Just for once, can’t you do what I ask you to do?

"Who is it?" She asked, just because she thought she should.

There was no answer.

"Who’s there?" she called, a little more insistent.

Still, no answer, though she thought she did hear a sound.

She went quickly to her bedroom, then returned with her gun firmly in hand. She unlocked the door and opened it, weapon poised for use.

The man at the door practically fell into her arms. She caught him and immediately pushed him against the door frame.

"Krycek! What the..." She stopped in mid sentence when she saw the blood- stained shirt. "What happened to you?"

"Scully... please..." he labored to speak in full sentences. "Mulder..."

Scully’s eyes widened. "What about Mulder?" She shook him none too gently. "Answer me! What about Mulder?"

He couldn’t answer her. All his strength had been spent in the attempt to get to her apartment and on the few words he’d managed to get out. He slumped against the wall.

"Shit! Krycek!"

It was useless. She managed to get him over to the sofa and dropped him onto it. He grimaced with the pain and emitted a harsh, unintelligible sound.

Scully pressed a hand to his perspiration-soaked forehead. He was burning up. "It’s times like this that I’m sorry I became a doctor," she muttered as she opened the front of his shirt to see where the blood had come from. Just over his hip, she found a diagonal wound, approximately three to four inches long. It had been stitched. Not a terribly professional job, but it certainly seemed to have been done by someone with some amount of training. The fever, she guessed, was a direct result of the wound. If he’d stitched it up himself, chances were great that he’d not taken any antibiotics.

"Krycek, can you hear me? I need you to tell me what happened." His head rolled back and forth against the cushions. He mouthed something - just one brief word it seemed, but she was unable to make it out. While she examined him, her mind was on Mulder. She’d only spoken to him the previous afternoon. Surely nothing could have happened to him in such a short time. But, if Alex Krycek was involved, she couldn’t count out any possibility.

Sonofabitch.

She reached for the phone and dialed Mulder’s cell phone. Four rings later, he answered.

"Mulder?"

His shook the fog from his head. "Scully? What time is it?" he asked, even as he took a glance at the alarm clock. "What’s wrong?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Scully, what the hell is wrong?"

"I... I’m not sure," she spoke as she opened her medical bag and found what she was looking for. "I’ve got a guest."

"Who?"

She looked down at the unconscious man on her sofa. "Alex Krycek." The information was greeted with silence. "Mulder? You there?"

Mulder fought to keep hyperventilating. "Yeah... uh... what is he doing there?"

"Nothing much at the moment. He’s unconscious."

"What?"

"He came to my door about ten, fifteen minutes ago, wounded and feverish, mentioned your name, then promptly passed out on me."

His head began to ache. "Wounded? Wounded, how?"

"Looks like maybe a stab wound of sorts. The fever is from infection, I gather. I’m administering antibiotics, now... Mulder, I still don’t know why it was so important for him to come here in his condition, other than the fact that he mentioned your name."

"W-was that all he said?"

"Well... first he said, ‘Scully, please.’ Then, he said ‘Mulder’, then he said something that I didn’t catch. Mulder, I can’t believe I’m here, at two-thirty in the morning, caring for a man that I would much rather shoot than treat... Mulder?"

He cleared his throat. "I’m here."

"I know that I warned you against coming back home before Tuesday, but this, I’d say, was an extenuating circumstance."

"Yeah... uh... I’ll call the airport and see when the soonest is that I can get a flight out. I’ll call you back."

"Okay. I’ll wait to hear from you."

Mulder disconnected and raised a trembling hand to his forehead. So much for thinking that he had his head together. He took a couple of steadying breaths and dialed Warwick.

4:24 a.m.

Scully sat in the chair opposite the sofa, observing Krycek’s disturbed slumber. He may have been wounded, and he may have a high fever, but there was no way in hell she was closing even one eye with him in her apartment. She cocked her head and listened carefully, trying to make some sense of the words he was now mumbling.

"Sorry... .. ... .. .wouldn’t... .. ... .. ... .. ... didn’t mean to... .. " He moaned softly. "So good... .. ..so..." The agitation returned. "Sorry... please... ."

His voice trailed off, leaving Scully confused and eaten up with curiosity. Whatever it was he was babbling about, it certainly seemed to be an emotional issue. There was definite remorse in his tone, but for just a second, it seemed as though there was something very close to pleasure mingled in all that angst.

"What the hell is going on?" she whispered to herself.

6:45 a.m.

Mulder entered Scully’s building, psyching himself up for God only knew what. He reached her door and willed himself to ring the bell. The door opened and his bloodshot eyes met hers. She stepped aside and motioned him in. He took three steps into the living room and turned toward her.

"So... what’s up?"

"Mulder, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I’m just uh, I’m just really beat." He inclined his head, then raised it and looked at her. "Is he still out?"

Scully nodded and moved toward the sofa.

"He was restless earlier. Saying things..."

"Things?"

Yeah, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, though. It was just a jumble of words. I uh..." She turned to see where he was. He still stood in the spot she’d left him in. "Mulder?"

"Huh?"

She leveled a perplexed gaze on him. "You know, I was very uneasy, being alone here with this guy, incapacitated though he is, but I was almost just as uneasy at the thought of you being in the same room with him."

"Why?"

"Mulder, I had to shoot you once, to keep you from killing him. And now, you’re acting so... I don’t know how to describe it."

Mulder ignored her attempted observation and forced himself to move toward the sofa. He tried to display no emotion as he, for the first time in over a month, laid eyes on the man who had taken his mind and body to a place he never knew existed.

Alex Krycek lay before him, a light sheet pulled halfway up his bare chest, which was coated with a light sheen of perspiration. There were some minor cuts and bruises scattered over his face.

"Will he be all right?"

"I think so. As soon as the antibiotics take hold. That shouldn’t be too much longer." She studied Krycek for a moment, then turned her attention to Mulder. "This man killed your father and my sister. I wanted so much to just let him die."

"Scully..."

"I mean, why should I help him?"

"Scully..."

"If he hadn’t mentioned your name..." Scully..." he finally got her attention. "He didn’t kill my father or Melissa."

She shot him a look. "Where did that come from?"

"He didn’t do it."

"Mulder, the man is a liar and a killer. You of all people know that."

"I’m not saying that he isn’t. But he didn’t kill my father or your sister."

"How do you know this?"

He hesitated. This ought to go over real big... "He told me."

"You’re... you’re kidding."

Mulder avoided her intense gaze.

"Since when do you believe anything that comes out of this man’s mouth?"

"Scully, would you say that I’m a good judge of people?"

"You weren’t the darling of the Violent Crimes Unit for nothing. Yes, I’d say that you were an excellent judge of people."

"Krycek didn’t do it. He’s caught up in this crap, just like we are."

"No, not just like we are."

Okay, but he is trapped... and he’s just trying to survive it."

"Well. Okay, Mulder. But, what wrought this change? Last time the name Alex Krycek was mentioned in your presence, you just about popped a vein."

She was going to figure this out. Soon. He had to tell her. But he needed a little time to figure out how.

"Can we talk about this later? We’re both exhausted. Go get some sleep."

"What about you?"

"I’ll catch a nap on the chair, here. That way, I can keep an eye on him."

"Mulder, if he comes out of it and we’re both asleep... he could still be dangerous."

"It’ll be fine, Scully. Trust me. Krycek isn’t going to do anything to anybody."

Scully looked from one man to the other, then back again. She nodded, then exited the room. Mulder heard her door close, then turned his attention to Krycek. He sat at the edge of the sofa and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. His eyes traveled up to his face. He noted how the long dark lashes gently brushed the surface of his high cheekbones. He stared at the relaxed set of his mouth... the mouth that had driven him so insane... Before he could stop himself, his fingers were lightly feathering the bottom lip.

Krycek sighed softly and shifted his position, ever so slightly. Mulder jerked his hand away and waited, frozen. To his relief, the green eyes did not open. He rose from the sofa and took a seat in the chair on the other side of the coffee table. He eyed Krycek’s motionless form.

Alex. How the hell am I going to tell her about you? What can I possibly say to make her understand a situation that I don’t understand, myself?

He tore his eyes away and tilted his head back against the cushion.

9:12 a.m.

Scully opened her eyes and listened. The apartment was quiet. She got out of bed and slipped on her robe. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and padded into the living room. Her eyes immediately fell to the sofa, where Krycek still slept. He seemed to be resting comfortably. She then sought out Mulder, who wasn’t in her direct line of sight. A soft clinking sound came from the kitchen.

"Did you sleep?" he asked without turning around.

She leaned in the doorway as he poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

"Thanks." She took the cup and sipped twice, then answered his question. "Yeah, actually. I can’t believe it... you?"

"I dozed off for a little while."

"How about our friend?"

"He hardly moved. Scully, are you sure he’s going to be okay?"

"I’m going to go out and examine him, right now." She turned toward the door and stopped to look at Mulder, who stood lingering by the counter. "Coming?"

"Yeah. I’m just going to pour a little more coffee." He reached for the pot. "I’ll be there in a second."

She nodded and left the room.

Mulder put the pot back down and leaned against the counter. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. He’d spent most of the three hours that Scully was asleep, trying to come up with the best way to tell her. No luck. Maybe the best thing to do would be to just say it straight out and let the heads roll where they may.

Alex Krycek opened his eyes while Scully was examining his wound.

"Am I going to live?"

His gravely voice startled her. She looked up at him, wide eyed. He stared back, his eyes a bit glassy, but otherwise alert.

"It would appear so," she said curtly and re-bandaged his wound. "How do you feel?"

"Better. What did you do?"

She answered his question with a question.

"Why did you come here, last night?"

"To ask you to warn Mulder."

"About?"

"There are people... I don’t know who, but there are people who apparently have a different agenda than those you’ve been after. Those people haven’t killed me because I..." he swallowed dryly. "Because I hold a few cards. But the game has changed. There’s obviously somebody out there who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about what I can prove... and they tried to get rid of me."

"And how does this involve Mulder?"

"Scully, if they’re out to get me, then these are people with nothing to lose. They might go after him too... and you. I just... I just wanted to warn you."

Mulder slipped into the room and stood quietly as Krycek spoke.

"Tell him, Scully. Please."

He tried to get up, but Scully pushed him back down. "Where do you think you’re going?"

"I have to go. It’s dangerous for me to be here. Sooner or later they’re going to find out that I’m not dead. I’d rather not be responsible for them taking you out with me." He tried to get up again. Again, Scully stopped him.

"Knock it off, Krycek. You’re not going anywhere. Not just yet, anyway. If they’re going to kill you, you’re going to be healthy when they do it."

Krycek stared up at her in obvious confusion. "You hate my guts. Why are you doing this?"

"You’re right about that. But I’m a doctor and it’s my responsibility to heal, regardless of personal feelings." She paused, then went on. "Plus, I’ve got it on good authority that I’ve got less reason to despise you than I originally thought."

"What are you talking about?"

Scully motioned with her head to the one who stood at a distance. Krycek followed her direction and met the hazel eyes of the man who’d possessed his every waking thought since that night, more than five weeks ago. His lips parted, but no sound left them. Mulder’s gaze dropped to the floor. Krycek turned his head away.

"Okay." Scully pushed back and sat on the coffee table. "What’s the deal, here?" Her question was greeted by silence. "Mulder? I want to know what’s going on, and I want to know, right now."

In that instant, Mulder made a decision. He inhaled deeply and walked over to the sofa. He lowered himself to the edge and spoke softly to Krycek.

"How do you feel?"

Krycek shrugged but did not meet his eye. "A lot better. Thanks to Scully."

Scully watched the proceedings in complete and utter confusion.

Mulder laid his hand on Krycek’s forearm. "Alex..."

Scully recoiled in shock. Her mind began to spin in a million different directions at once. "Alex?"

Krycek turned his eyes to Mulder and shook his head. "Mulder..."

Scully repeated herself, unable to accept what was becoming more and more obvious. "Alex?"

Mulder turned to her. "Scully, I..."

Krycek cut him off. "Mulder, don’t."

He turned back to him. "It’s all right. I told her most of it, the other day. All that was missing was a name."

Krycek stared up at him, remorse glittering in his eyes. "Let it lay," he whispered.

"I can’t." He faced Scully once more. "Scully... Alex is the man I..."

Scully leapt off the table. "Don’t! Don’t say it!"

"Why not, Scully, you already know. I need to say it."

Scully clenched her hands in her hair and stalked half the length of the living room.

Mulder continued. "Scully, I spent that night with Krycek."

"I can’t believe you just did that," Krycek rasped.

"Why?" Scully fairly screamed, whirling to face them. "With all the men in Washington..."

A look of pain crossed Mulder’s face. "It’s not like I was out looking. I’d never had thoughts like this about any other man."

"But my God, Mulder..." she cast a disgusted glance at Krycek. "Him?"

"Scully," Krycek intervened, "it was my fault. He didn’t want..."

"Oh, really? So you’re saying that you, what? Seduced him? Raped him? Oh, Christ, I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation."

"Can he be moved?" Mulder asked, breaking in on Scully’s tirade.

"What? Why?"

"I’ll take him to my apartment."

"No," Krycek objected. "If I’m able to leave here, I’ll do so, alone."

Mulder ignored him. "Scully?"

Scully brought her hands up to her eyes and rubbed at them. "I suppose it would be all right to move him a short distance, but he still needs to rest for a couple more days, at least. And he needs to be on those antibiotics for a while longer."

"Fine. Show me how to administer them, and we’ll go."

Scully swallowed her anger. "Mulder, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but surely you can understand..."

"I know." He turned to Krycek for a moment. "Don’t move. I’ll be right back."

He rose and led Scully away.

"How could you let this happen, Mulder," she asked as soon as they were in her bedroom. "Alex Krycek?"

"I don’t know. I told you, I hated myself afterward. I hated myself when I left for Rhode Island. I hated myself all the way back here... I may hate myself again tomorrow. But for today, I can’t deny how I feel. It all came back as soon as I looked at him. I was so terrified of how I felt, that I would have done anything to deny it, but when you asked me to tell you what was going on, something clicked. It was like, okay. Here it is. I can either lie, or I can tell you the truth. But in order to tell you the truth, I had to first recognize what that truth was. I’ve done that, now."

"What’s the truth?" Scully asked.

"I’ve got feelings for him. I have for a long time. I just kept them buried under a ton of anger and hostility. I can’t do that anymore Scully, it’s eating me up. I wish you could understand."

Scully sighed and took his hand. "I’ll get the meds for you."

Mulder nodded and released her hand. He left the room and returned to stand over Krycek who had since struggled into a sitting position.

"You should be lying down until we leave."

"I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that much."

"That’s not the point."

"I’m not going with you."

"Yes, you are."

"I can’t. I won’t put you in danger."

Scully, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, had entered the room and was listening quietly, from the doorway.

"You heard Scully, you need to rest."

Krycek lowered his eyes. "Fox, please."

"It’ll be all right. Nobody’s going to kill any of us. Besides, we need to talk."

"No, we don’t. Forget it. It’ll be better for you if you just forget it."

"What about you? Can you forget it?"

Krycek avoided his stare.

Scully took advantage of the lull and stepped forward with a small bag. "Here’s everything you need. I’ve written specific instructions for you. Her eyes fell on Krycek, then cut away and back to Mulder. "See that he gets plenty of rest."

"I will."

"I’ll help you get him to the car."

"Thanks."

Once Krycek was settled into the passenger’s seat of Mulder’s rental, Mulder faced Scully. "I’m sorry. I know how upset you are. You remember I told you that you’d probably never see me the same way again..."

"Mulder. I’m the one who should apologize. I won’t pretend that I like this new turn of events, but I promise you that I’ll try to understand it and accept it the best way I can. I’d do as much for either of my brothers."

"I doubt that either of your brothers would ever come to you and say that they’d gotten sexually involved with someone like Alex Krycek."

Scully folded her arms across her chest and kicked at a small piece of loose concrete. "Probably not. You going to settle this with him?"

"I hope to. One way or the other."

She didn’t ask what he meant by that. She was pretty sure that she knew.

"I’ll be in touch."

Scully stepped away as Mulder got into his car and started the engine. She motioned for him to lower the window.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, Mulder... okay?"

He glanced over at Krycek, who was sitting quietly, eyes closed and head tilted back against the seat. "I will."

The window went back up and the rental car pulled away. Scully watched until it was out of sight, before turning and slowly walking back toward the elevators.

"What’s with the rental?" Krycek asked, once they were on their way.

"My car is in Rhode Island."

"What’s it doing there?"

"That’s where I was until Scully called."

"On a case?"

"No. A vacation, of sorts."

"I’m sorry. She shouldn’t have called you. I went to her in the first place, because I didn’t want you to have to see me."

"I gotta say, I wasn’t real thrilled about seeing you, myself."

Krycek turned his head toward the window and didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey.

10:35 a.m.

Mulder entered his apartment and tossed his bag onto a nearby chair, as he helped Krycek in.

"I shouldn’t be here," he said softly as Mulder steered him toward the bedroom.

"We’ve established that," Mulder answered flatly, walking him to the bed. "Lie down."

"Why are you doing this?

"We’ll discuss it later. Now..." he turned the sheet down and motioned with one hand. "if you don’t mind?"

Krycek abandoned his efforts at protest and got into the bed.

"Let’s get that shirt off."

"What?"

"It’s full of dried blood. Take it off." Mulder went to the closet and pulled a pale blue t-shirt off the shelf. "You can put this on."

Krycek began to remove his shirt with a bit of effort.

"Need help?"

"No, I got it." He struggled a moment longer, then laid it in front of him and reached for the clean shirt that Mulder held out to him.

"Do you want anything?"

"I’m kind of thirsty."

"I’ll get you some water. Anything else?"

"No."

Mulder picked up the soiled shirt, executed a brief nod, and slipped out of the room. While he was gone, Krycek took in the familiar surroundings. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see this apartment again, let alone lay in this bed.

Life is damn cruel.

Mulder returned with a tall glass of cold water and handed it to him.

"Thanks."

He took a seat at the edge of the bed and stared intently as Krycek sipped the water.

"What happened to you?"

"Work related injury."

"Who stitched you up?"

"I did it myself. The scar won’t be pretty, but the emergency medicine courses they taught at the academy were designed to be strictly utilitarian."

Mulder smiled. "Was Dr. Hughes still teaching when you were there?"

"Yeah. He ever show you some of his scars? The word ‘delicate’ was not in that guy’s vocabulary."

"I know. How’d you get hurt?"

Krycek sighed. "There was an explosion. I got hit with some flying debris. Mulder, it was a setup. Just for me. I figured it out and took off, but before I could get out, the truck that I had been in, exploded."

"Was there anyone else?"

"Just the driver. He was in on it. When they find out that I wasn’t killed, they’ll try again. And I don’t want to be here when they do."

"What difference does it make? If they want me, they’re going to try to get me, whether you’re here or not."

"But if I’m wrong, and it’s just me they want, it’d be best if I wasn’t anywhere near you. They may kill you, simply because you’re in the way."

"You look tired."

"Dammit, would you stop changing the subject and listen to me? I can’t stay here!"

He tried to get out of bed, but Mulder gasped him by his shoulders and pinned him against the pillows. Krycek winced in pain.

"Stop trying to be so fucking noble, would you? It’s starting to irritate me."

"As long as it doesn’t make you sick," Krycek replied, the heaviness evident in his voice. "I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you throwing up in the bathroom, again."

"Krycek..."

He avoided Mulder’s eyes.

"Alex..."

Even the soft utterance of his first name, did not draw his attention.

Mulder sighed. "Try to get some rest."

Krycek felt the mattress rise as he got up and left the room. His eyes followed Mulder to the door, then rose to the ceiling. "Rest," he repeated. "That’s a good one."

Fifteen minutes later, he was asleep.

3:14 p.m.

"Where are you going?"

Krycek stopped in his tracks and cursed softly to himself. He turned around. Mulder watched him from a reclining position on the sofa. He weighed his chances of making it to the door before the other man could get up.

"Try it, and I’ll shoot you in the leg." Mulder raised his right hand and waved his gun from side to side. "Come in here and sit down. You and I are going to talk."

Krycek heaved a defeated sigh and walked slowly into the living room. Mulder swung into a sitting position and waited as he lowered himself onto the black leather cushion at the far end of the sofa. Mulder placed the Sig down on the coffee table. "Time for your meds." He rose and went to the bag that Scully had packed for him. He pulled the contents out and shook the proper dosage into his hand. "Here." He handed the pills to Krycek. "I’ll get you some water."

Krycek stared quietly down at the white tablets in his hand, until Mulder returned with a glass. He took it, washed the antibiotics down, and placed the glass on the table. He leaned back and his eyes automatically went to the floor. Mulder squatted in front of him and placed a hand on his thigh. The muscle tightened in his jaw, but he remained still and silent. Mulder’s thumb swept back and forth, slowly.

"I’ve spent the last five weeks in hell. Hating myself. Disgusted at the thought of what we did. Ashamed."

Krycek covered Mulder’s hand with his own, stopping his thumb’s movement. Their eyes met.

"And now?"

"I lost count of how many times I thought about the things you did to me. Cold showers have become part of my routine." His eyes burned into Krycek’s. "I hate cold showers." He kneeled between the younger man’s parted thighs. "I’m tired of trying to convince myself that it was nothing more than a moment’s weakness. I can’t do it anymore."

"What are you saying?"

Mulder studied his face. It was a mask of intensity. "I’m saying that..." he stopped and began again. "I’m saying that I’d like to talk about this with you, if you’re willing."

He drew a shaky breath as Krycek gently skimmed his lips with his fingers.

"Can I tell you something?"

Mulder nodded.

"You really need to get off your knees."

"Worried about my poor aching joints?"

"I’m worried about a poor aching something, but it isn’t your joints."

Mulder smiled and levered himself up to the sofa. He settled beside Krycek and turned toward him, just enough so that one of his knees was touching the side of Krycek’s thigh.

"Are you comfortable?"

"I’m okay. The stitches are starting to bother me a little, but not much."

Mulder checked his watch. "It’s not quite time for the pain pill. Can you wait another forty-five minutes?"

"Yeah, I’m fine."

"Maybe you should lie down, though. Take some weight off of it."

"You know how tired I am of being on my back?"

"Mmm hmm." Mulder slid back to the other side of the sofa and leaned against the arm. He lifted one leg and stretched it straight out, while planting his right foot on the floor. "Come here. Lay back against me."

Krycek regarded him doubtfully.

"That wasn’t a request."

He duplicated Mulder’s movements, sliding backward, until his back came in contact with a hard, warm chest. That warmth spread through his body like a flood. Long arms draped loosely around him and he felt Mulder’s cheek rest itself on the top of his head. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A soft monotone came from above him.

"Is that better?"

"Yeah." He stopped and cleared his throat. "It actually is better. Some of the pressure is off the stitches."

"Good."

They both fell silent for a while, enjoying the closeness. Krycek closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. The smell that was Mulder’s alone, invaded his nostrils and filled his head with impossible thoughts. Mulder broke into those thoughts.

"I missed you." His admission was met with silence. He continued. "You don’t believe me, do you?"

"It’s kind of hard, after the way we left things. If Scully hadn’t called you, we wouldn’t be here now and maybe you would have had a real chance to forget about what happened."

"First of all, I don’t know how that would have been possible, since I’ve been reliving that night every day, five times a day. Second, you knew that there was no way in hell that Scully wouldn’t have called me. You wanted to see me. You needed to get this settled as much as I did."

"Maybe."

Mulder shook his head. "No maybe... tell me why you left."

"I was wrong to do what I did to you. I took everything you knew about yourself and turned it inside out. I’m sorry, Fox. It was selfish. I wanted you so much, I didn’t think about what it might do to you, afterward."

"It did a number on me. I don’t know how long you stayed after I went into the bathroom but... after I threw up, I took a hot shower. Brushed my teeth till my gums hurt. Anything I could think of to get the smell and the taste of you off of me. When I first found your note, I didn’t know how to feel. Then a little while later, I told myself that I was glad you were gone. And everyday I tried to go about my normal routine, but it was wearing on me. Nights were impossible. It was a constant battle to stop myself from remembering how it felt to be with you. I always lost. I hated myself for my weakness. I woke up every morning for two weeks, wishing I hadn’t..."

"Jesus."

He tightened his arms around Krycek’s chest. "I didn’t say any of that to make you feel bad. I just want it all out. You understand?"

"I guess."

"I don’t want to leave it hanging over our heads."

"You think you’ve come to terms with it, now?"

"I’d be lying if I said that I was completely comfortable with this. I mean, how can I be? I’ve lived thirty-seven years as one person and now all of a sudden, it would seem that I’m somebody completely different. But I’m ready to deal with it."

"Are you?"

"If I’m going to maintain my grip on sanity, which Scully thinks is tenuous at best... I have to. Besides..." he smirked into the silky dark hair, "that was the best blow job I’ve ever had."

Krycek shook with laughter. "Fuck you."

Mulder slipped a hand under his chin and lifted until he could see his eyes. "Please do."

Krycek stared up into his warm, amber-flecked eyes mutely, not knowing how to respond.

"Later," Mulder told him, "when you’re better."

"Are you sure about that?"

"As sure as I’ve ever been about anything."

The hand under Krycek’s chin held him still, while Mulder’s lips descended on his. Soft. Gentle. Completely overwhelming. He let himself melt into it just for a moment, then reluctantly pulled away.

"What?"

"Please let me leave."

"Are we back on that, again?"

"Yes, we are." Krycek wrenched himself from Mulder’s light grasp and sat at the edge of the sofa. "The longer I stay here, the longer I want to stay, and I can’t."

Mulder tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. "You can’t or you don’t want to?"

Krycek’s head snapped around. "What do you think?"

Mulder shrugged.

He rose stiffly, grimacing at the discomfort, and took a few steps into the middle of the room. His soft voice, oozing with regret, brought Mulder’s attention to his face.

"I would give my soul, if I still had one, to be able to change the way things are." He blinked rapidly, fighting back the burning he felt behind his eyes. "But I can’t. I’ve made some choices in my life that can only be described as bad and now, I’m paying for them... in a way I never thought I would."

Mulder stood and moved toward him. "You can turn it around." He stopped only when their bodies were practically touching. "Let me help you."

"You can’t..."

"I can if you really want me to."

Krycek shook his head and tried to turn away, but Mulder moved with him, maintaining that close, nerve-racking contact.

"Look at me."

Krycek spun around and headed toward the bedroom with Mulder close on his heels. When they were both inside the room, he slammed the door behind them. He leaned against it and watched as Krycek snatched up his jacket, then turned to him.

"Move."

"Make me."

"You are the most stubborn son of a bitch I’ve ever known."

Mulder remained against the door, his eyes issuing a silent challenge.

"You fucking asshole!"

"Sticks and stones..."

"Get the fuck out of the way!"

He moaned softly and his hand came up to cover the stitched area above his hip.

"You’re aggravating it, doing all this yelling and moving around. You need to get off your feet and..." he checked his watch. "take that painkiller."

Krycek stared at Mulder, amazed, as he moved toward him and took the jacket from his hands. He tossed it back onto the chair.

"Now. Are you going to get into bed or do I have to put you there, myself?"

"You know what?" Krycek sliced one hand upward, through the air. "Fine. You want to fuck up your life, go ahead. Why should I give a shit? You want to play nurse maid, shove pills down my throat, make my boo boo all better, so I can live to double-cross you sometime in the future... great."

Mulder said nothing. He simply stood with arms folded across his chest, waiting. Krycek blew a short, hard breath out through his nose, and lowered himself to the bed.

"Okay, okay," he said impatiently snapping his fingers once he got settled, "where’s my pill?"

Without a word, Mulder exited the room and returned minutes later, with another glass of water and a small plate, on top of which, sat a ham sandwich. He placed both on the nightstand by the bed.

"What the fuck’s this?" Krycek asked, trying his best to be obnoxious.

"You shouldn’t be taking this stuff without having something in your stomach, first." He held out his hand and dropped a small white pill into Krycek’s open palm. "If you want anything else, I’ll be in the other room." With that, he turned and left, closing the bedroom door softly behind him.

Krycek glanced at the sandwich. He shouted at the closed door. "Maybe I’ll just take this pill without eating first. What’ll happen, huh Mulder? Will it make me sick? Maybe I’ll just throw up all over your bed! It’d serve you right, you foolish bastard!"

His tirade was met with silence. "Shit." He looked back at the sandwich. Hunger got the better of him. He snatched it off the plate and took a bite. And another. Seconds later, the sandwich was gone. He popped the pill in his mouth and took a swig of water. He placed the glass down beside the empty plate and lay back against the pillow, clasping his hands behind his head. He lay that way for a long time, contemplating the situation he was now in. He’d been in some tight spots before but, this was by far, the worst. He’d been up against some dangerous adversaries before, including one Fox Mulder, but this was a completely different battleground, with so many more twists and pitfalls to consider. The biggest of these problems... his feelings for this man. His own emotions would prove to be his downfall, and there was no way that he could see... no way at all, around them.

8:12 p.m.

Krycek awoke. The room was dark. Quiet. He fumbled around for the lamp. He found it and pale light washed the room as he flicked the switch. He looked around the room. His jacket was in the same place, thrown across the back of the chair near the foot of the bed. He glanced at the night table. The plate and glass were gone. He’d been there. Krycek wondered if he’d stayed in the room a while, watching him sleep, or if he just gathered up those things and left. He turned his eyes to the door. Should he or shouldn’t he?

8:49 p.m.

Mulder ignored the band of light that streamed into the hall, then disappeared. He remained focused on the television as the dark figure entered the room and hesitated in the doorway. Silently, it moved into the room and stopped beside the sofa. His eyes drifted up to Krycek’s face. He shifted slightly farther against the back as his reluctant guest took a seat, just about parallel to his waist. Mulder watched him with quiet interest, as he tried to find the words for what he wanted to say.

"I was a real prick," he began and risked a glance at Mulder, who was still staring intently at him. "I know you care. You just wanted to help and I was such a... a... shithead. I was rotten and nasty and... uh... feel free to stop me at any time."

"Why?" Mulder rasped. "You’re doing great."

Krycek lowered his head. "Can’t you just please understand that I don’t want you hurt? If something happened to you because of me, I’d..."

"So it’s okay if I get killed as long as it’s not your fault?"

"You know that’s not what I meant. This is a lose-lose situation for you. If we become involved..."

Mulder broke in. "Become involved?"

"... you’ll have nothing but trouble with Scully. She’s your partner. You need there to be unwavering trust between you. As long as you have anything to do with me, that trust is going to be compromised."

"I know Scully was upset, but she’s my best friend. She wants me to be happy."

"I’m sure that’s true. But she can’t get around her dislike or her distrust for me. Chances are very great, she never will."

Mulder gave no response.

Krycek continued. "I can get out of the business I’m in, now. As long as I have what I have against them, they’ll leave me alone. But this new threat... whoever this is who tried to kill me... I don’t know that they’ll stop. And I told you what that could mean for you."

"And I told you..."

"I know what you told me..."

"You ever hear of strength in numbers? You’re more vulnerable if you’re alone. And so am I."

Curiosity etched Krycek’s features. "You’d trust me to that extent?"

"Stupid, huh?"

"Your partner would think so."

"I know."

"You’d be flushing your career down the toilet."

"My private life is my own. No one need know about it."

"I hate to keep bringing Scully into this but..."

"Scully is no problem."

Krycek shook his head. "Were you and I in the same apartment, this morning? She was wild."

"Yeah, I know. But she’d never do anything to hurt me. She may never like you, but that would stay between the three of us."

"What about what I know? It could be a big help to you. But if I gave a single bit of that information to you or anyone, I’d be as good as dead. Are you willing to forget about that for the sake of a relationship between us?"

Mulder pulled himself into a sitting position. "I wouldn’t risk your life. Does that answer your question?"

Krycek slid a hand up Mulder’s arm and rested it on his relaxed bicep. "You know that you’re watched. It’s only a matter of time before they catch on to this. They’ll use it to try and get what they want. Then you’ll be trapped, too."

Mulder shook his head in disagreement. "The way I see it, it would be a standoff. Neither side could afford to use the ammunition they had against the other." He paused for a few seconds. When Krycek issued no comeback, he raised a hand, then slapped it against his knee. "So, now what?"

Krycek chewed his lip. "You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?"

A self-assured silence was his only reply.

"Well, answer me this. How are you going to live with yourself, knowing that you’re sleeping with a man who’s done things so completely despicable, that two lifetimes in prison wouldn’t be enough? You’re an honest man, Fox. That quality is one of the things that attracts me to you. I don’t want you to change who you are for me. I’m not worth it."

Mulder leaned forward, until his face was only inches from Krycek’s. He spoke in a tone so low, that Krycek could feel the vibration tickling his lips. "Why don’t you let me decide what you’re worth."

Krycek’s eyes dropped shut and he shook his head slowly. His respiration grew shallow as he felt the soft touch of Mulder’s mouth against his.

"Mulder..."

"Shut up, Krycek."

He resumed the gentle, teasing kisses coaxing their recipient to surrender to him. And he did. Before either of them knew it, they were lying together on the sofa, Mulder’s body half-covering that of the man beneath him. He rested most of his weight on his arms, to avoid putting any pressure on Krycek’s wound. Their lips met again, this time with frightening urgency. Krycek threaded his fingers through Mulder’s hair, curling them around the thick brown strands and effectively preventing him from pulling his mouth away. Not that Mulder had any such intention. He compelled Krycek to open his mouth and allow his tongue to slip inside. Slowly, he searched the warm recesses, stroking and caressing. Tormenting. The anguished moan that vibrated into his mouth, sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin.

Krycek broke the kiss and pressed his leg up against the crotch of Mulder’s jeans. "Why don’t you let me take care of this for you," he murmured against the stubbled jaw.

Mulder shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Your turn."

"My... uh... are you sure about that?"

"Well," Mulder’s hand traveled down and stroked the bulge in Krycek’s jeans. "I sort of left you hanging the last time. I’d say I owed you one." Their eyes met. "Wouldn’t you?"

"You don’t owe me anything."

Mulder’s hand traveled the short distance to the top button of Krycek’s jeans and undid it. Next he took hold of the zipper and slid it down as far as it would go. "I think I do." His lips again found his lover’s, even as his hand slid inside the white briefs to gently fondle him.

A tingle of excitement rushed through Mulder as he stroked this cock that was not his own. The faint gasps and sighs that reached his ears did not come from his own throat and that excited him as well. He released Krycek’s lips and nipped at the small indentation just beneath them.

"I thought we were going to wait till I was better?" he teased.

"For the good stuff," Mulder smirked down at him. "All you have to do right now, is lay there."

"Just... lay here."

"That’s all."

"And what do you mean, the good stuff? Does that mean that whatever I’m in for tonight is going to suck?" He drew in a sharp breath as Mulder squeezed him none too gently.

"I’m sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing," Krycek whispered. "I didn’t say a word."

"I didn’t think so." Mulder loosened his grip and let his fingers slide tenderly along the length of his cock, then back again. Krycek closed his eyes and moaned aloud.

Mulder grinned. "And uh... speaking of suck..."

He slipped Krycek’s jeans and underwear past his hips. Just far enough for easier access. As he began to slide downward, Krycek wound his fingers in his hair and pulled him back up.

"What?"

"When I get close... which should be about five seconds after you touch me, I’ll tell you. When I do, stop, okay? You can finish me with your hand."

"Why would I want to do that?"

Krycek stroked the underside of Mulder’s chin with his knuckles. "You’ve got nothing to prove to me."

"Who said I did?"

"Just... don’t, okay? Please?"

Mulder grasped his wrist and brushed his lips against the curled fingers, then moved to the floor, beside the sofa.

Krycek’s jaw tensed and he inhaled deeply as he felt Mulder’s lips close over him. For so long, he’d wondered... fantasized, about what those full lips would feel like on his cock. Tonight he knew. There was no feeling in the world like it. This was to him, heaven in it’s purest sense. He reached down and petted the golden brown hair. "Ohhhh, baby...

Mulder’s heart thundered in his chest. If anyone had ever told him that he’d be on his knees, in his own apartment, giving Alex Krycek a blow job and loving every minute of it, he’d have pulled out his gun and shot them. Yet here he was, in exactly that position. He swirled his tongue around the hard, velvety shaft as again and again, he slid down and back, glorying in every sigh, every sweet whisper.

Krycek’s hips lurched beneath him. The sensation of his cock rubbing against the smooth interior of Fox Mulder’s mouth, was just too much. He had no idea how much longer he could hold on, though he desperately wanted to. When for the last agonizing time, Mulder reached the tip, he paused and opened his mouth slightly, bestowing a series of tiny, flicking lashes upon it with his tongue.

Krycek gritted his teeth and groaned harshly. "Fox..."

Mulder closed his mouth around Krycek once more and sucked him in, completely. Almost immediately, he withdrew, then descended again. Krycek grabbed a hand full of hair and attempted to pull him away.

"Fox... stop... s-stop..."

Mulder reached up and forced Krycek’s hand away from his head. He shackled both of the younger man’s wrists with his hands and held them down by his sides. His head rose and fell on his cock with long, sure strokes. Krycek strained against the determined strength that held him captive.

"Come on! You shouldn’t... no... oh... oh... Christ!"

A chain of violent spasms rocked Krycek’s body. For as long as it took for his orgasm to complete itself, he cared not one bit that he was doing exactly what he hadn’t wanted to do. His hips jerked upward, time and again, as he came in Mulder’s mouth.

Mulder held Krycek’s wrists tightly to his sides as what seemed like an endless river of warm fluid gushed down his throat. His first instinct was to pull back, but Fox Mulder was not a man who did anything halfway. He forced himself to relax and accept what, in essence, he had asked for. When it was over and he had successfully quelled the revolt that his stomach had threatened to stage, he moved up and laid his head on Krycek’s chest. A hand rose and rested weakly on the silky cushion of his hair. After long minutes of struggling to drag air back into his lungs, Krycek whispered to him.

"You stubborn bastard."

Mulder smiled into his shirt. "I’ll just take that as a compliment."

"Are you all right?"

He lifted his head and met Krycek’s eye. "I’m not going to make a break for the bathroom, if that’s what you want to know."

A tiny smile played at Krycek’s lips. "It takes a lot of nerve to actually swallow, the first time."

"Did you?"

He hesitated, then answered. "Yeah." He pulled his jeans up, then made room on the sofa for Mulder, who settled on his side, head propped up on his hand.

"And you didn’t think that I’d have as much nerve as you do?"

Krycek turned his face to Mulder’s. "I had no choice."

Mulder’s smile faded. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said."

"What happened to you?"

Krycek looked away, all at once sorry that he’d said what he did. Mulder asked again, the insistence evident in his tone.

"Alex, what happened?"

He knew there was no way out of it, now. Mulder was like a pit bull. Once he got hold of something, there was no letting go.

"My initiation wasn’t exactly voluntary."

Mulder’s shock registered in his eyes and his voice. "You were raped?"

Krycek looked straight ahead, unable to meet his eye. "Yeah."

"When?"

"Years ago," he answered flatly. "I was nineteen. It hadn’t been all that long since I’d come to terms with the truth about myself. I fooled around a little, but nothing too heavy. Just some experimentation. One night, a couple of friends and I were at this party and there were these guys there. Four of them. For some reason, they decided that it might be fun to harass one of my buddies. He was sort of a meek, quiet guy and they were starting to piss me off, so I stood up for him." He shrugged. "They backed down and I figured that was that. Until we left."

"They were waiting for you?"

"The party wasn’t that far from Pete’s house, so we walked. Scott got a ride home, so it was just the two of us. They jumped us from behind and threw us into two separate cars. They drove for about twenty minutes, into a wooded area. They dragged me out of the car and one of them punched me so hard that I almost blacked out." He paused, then continued without emotion. "I could hear Pete screaming. The one who had hit me, smiled and said to the other one that he bet he could make me scream louder. One held me while the other pulled my pants down, then they made me lay face down over a rock..."

Mulder lowered his head and whispered more to himself than to Krycek. "Christ."

"I’d never been in that much pain... but I didn’t make a sound. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. When he was through, he asked his friend if he wanted a turn. He said yes, but he was in the mood for a blow job. So they pulled me to my knees and while one held me up, the other one tried to get into my mouth. I wouldn’t open it, so he held my nose, until I started to gasp for air, then he forced himself in. It was over in a matter of seconds, but it seemed like hours. I was so sick. I threw up until I thought my insides would come out. They just... left me there. I lay on the ground, until I heard both cars drive away. I managed to get myself together and go looking for Pete. He was in worse shape than I was. I helped him get dressed and we walked home. It took us a couple of hours, but we made it to his house. His parents were away, thankfully. We got cleaned up and never spoke of it, again."

"Never?"

Krycek shook his head.

"Are you still in contact with him?"

He turned his eyes to Mulder. "He committed suicide less than a year later."

"I don’t... I don’t know..."

"It’s okay," he broke in. "There’s nothing to say." He paused, then went on. "The next day, my parents asked me what had happened, you know, because of the bruises on my face. I told them that I was in a fight. They never had any reason to doubt me, so I got a lecture and that was it."

"Did you ever see those guys again?"

"Oh, yeah. They pretty much acted like nothing had ever happened... like they didn’t even know who I was, which was fine with me. All I wanted to do was forget it."

Mulder pulled him against the warmth of his chest. "I’m so sorry that happened to you."

Krycek closed his eyes, lulled by the steady rhythm of Mulder’s heart. "I never got involved with anyone after that. The thought of any man touching me, made my blood run cold. That changed only after I met you."

Mulder dropped a light kiss on the top of his head. "What was so damn special about me?"

"I don’t know if I can pinpoint any one thing. I loved the way you looked directly at me when we talked. That’s the mark of an honest, self-assured person. It’s sexy. At least it is to me." He took in a long breath and let it out slowly. "Your eyes. So intense. A person could drown in them. When you opened your mouth to speak, my knees just about buckled..." He smiled against Mulder’s shirt. "I won’t even mention what that Speedo did to me."

"Okay, that’s all initial attraction. What kept you interested?"

"The more time I spent with you, the more attractive you became. I was fascinated with your single-mindedness. Your devotion to your partner. I was so completely taken in by your strength. I found myself thinking about you constantly."

"Then why did you do the things you did?"

"I made a bad career move, I know that. But I was in it up to my neck and there was no way out. You don’t just walk away from these men without some damn good insurance. I never in a million years, thought that there’d be a chance for anything between us. I was sure those little changes in your expression when you looked at me sometimes, were just my imagination. I wanted to believe that they meant something... but you were Fox Mulder, for Christ sake. What the hell was on my mind? I spent all my spare time thinking about you. Imagining what it would be like to be with you. You brought to life, feelings in me that I thought were long dead, and since..." he stopped.

"Since, what?"

"Since I knew you were unattainable, I tried to satisfy my desires elsewhere... with men and women. Didn’t work. You were always there. In the back of my mind. And I’d be furious with you sometimes, because I wanted you so much and you seemed so fucking oblivious. Well fine, screw you. That’s what I told myself any time I caused some kind of trouble for you. Then I’d be sick afterward. That time you caught me outside after your father died, something in me... some part of me wanted you to kill me. I wanted it over." He stopped and pulled away so he could see Mulder’s face. "You would have, wouldn’t you, if Scully hadn’t shot you?"

Mulder answered without hesitation. "Yes." Then he changed the subject. "I never really came to grips with how I felt about you. Any time I was near you, I’d feel so... my body did things. I did everything I could to suppress my feelings, but sometimes everything wasn’t enough. That’s when I’d get angry. I didn’t even have to see you. Just the mention of your name would send me into a tail spin. And when you did show up..." He spoke through gritted teeth. "I can’t explain to you the rage I felt. All I wanted to do was kill you. I guess just like you, I wanted it over. The first time that I actually realized that I was fantasizing about you while I was jerking off, I wanted to die. I mean, it couldn’t be. How the hell could it be that I wanted to do the things that I was imagining with a man, much less, the man who killed my father?"

"Fox?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you really believe me when I say that I didn’t do it? I know you told Scully that I didn’t, but do you believe, in your heart, that I’m telling you the truth?"

"Yes, I do."

"Because we’ve become lovers, or because you really believe it?"

"I really believe it."

"And can you believe me when I tell you that I won’t ever betray you again? I’d sooner let them kill me."

Mulder studied him for a moment, then lowered his head and touched his lips to those of his lover. Krycek’s tongue inched out to gently skim his lower lip.

"Mmmm." Mulder moaned deep in his throat. "I believe you."

Krycek’s hand wandered over his chest. He spoke to Mulder, his tone seductively low. "I won’t ever hurt you again. I promise." His hand slid lower and came in contact with the hardness at the front of Mulder’s jeans. Krycek stroked and teased until his breaths were coming in ragged gasps.

"You want to feel my hand around you?"

"Yes... please... .. shit!" He glared at his cell phone on the coffee table, which had begun to ring.

"Gotta be Scully, right?" Krycek asked as he continued to rub Mulder’s still covered erection.

"Yeah. Wonder why she’s using my cell number when she knows I’m home."

"Because she thinks I’ve bugged your phone here in the apartment, that’s why," Krycek answered evenly.

Mulder winced at the slightly increased pressure of his caresses. "You’re killing me."

"You’d better answer that phone before your partner thinks that I have killed you and comes over here."

Mulder snatched up the phone and answered it.

"Mulder? I was getting worried. Why’d it take you so long to answer your phone?"

"I was in the middle of something."

Krycek smiled and unzipped his pants. Mulder looked to him with widened eyes.

A short stretch of silence was followed by another question.

"How’s your houseguest?"

"F-fine..."

"Mulder? Is everything okay? You sound a little odd."

"Odd?" He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, as Krycek’s hand slipped inside his underwear and closed around his stiff cock.

"Where’s Krycek?"

"He’s uh, lying down..."

"Those meds are helping?"

"Oh yeah," he glanced at Krycek, who was thoroughly enjoying making him squirm, "he feels real good."

"Have you talked?"

"Yes... yes, we have." The soft, involuntary groan that followed that last sentence, didn’t go unnoticed.

"Mulder," Scully whispered, "do you need help? Should I come over there?"

"No! Uh, no. W-why would you ask that?"

"Because something isn’t right. I can hear it in your voice."

"I’m just tired, Scully. I haven’t slept much in the past twenty-four hours, remember?" He shot a warning look to Krycek, who simply ignored him and went on with his business.

"So… is it settled? If I’m overstepping my bounds with that question, just say so."

"Scully, we’re friends. I tell you... .. .I tell you everything. I would hope that this wouldn’t be any different. Yes, I think it’s settled." His tone softened considerably as Krycek snuggled closer and tucked his dark head under his chin.

Scully went silent. She’d deduced from the way he’d given his answer that things hadn’t gone exactly the way she was hoping they’d go.

"Can you find some way to understand?"

"I don’t see that I’ve got much choice in the matter, do I? As your friend, I’ve got to respect your decisions. No matter how insane I think they are."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "Just had to get that in, didn’t you?"

"Goodnight, Mulder. I’ll check in tomorrow. You’re not thinking about coming in, right? I mean, technically, you have still got two days vacation left."

"And I’m taking them. Don’t worry. I’ll be rested and refreshed and ready for work on Wednesday."

"All right. Call you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Scully."

"Night." She hung up and rested her head in her hands. She almost wished that he had decided to come in to work. At least she’d know that he was safe and away from Krycek, even if it was for only part of the day.

Mulder dropped the phone onto the floor and turned his attention back to his lover, who was still working his magic on his aching cock. "Are you purposely trying to antagonize her?"

"Of course not. I’m just trying to make things a little more stimulating for you..."

"A few more minutes of stimulating, and she would have known exactly what was going on."

"Exciting, wasn’t it?"

Mulder’s eyes rolled back into his head.

"Keep them closed," Krycek whispered. "Concentrate on what you’re feeling and the sound of my voice." The tips of his fingers brushed the silky length of Mulder’s cock. "You feel so good. Warm... smooth... incredibly hard..."

Mulder expelled a hard breath. "Alex..."

"Take it easy. Easy..." He continued to stroke Mulder, but his fingers just barely touched him. When his respiration returned to semi-normal, Krycek applied a bit more pressure. "Is that good?"

Mulder sighed softly.

"I’ll take that as a yes." His hand moved up and down, just a bit faster. "You’re ready, aren’t you?"

"Yes."

"You want it so bad you can taste it."

Mulder’s hips arched upward. "Yes... please!"

Krycek took his hand away.

"Wh-what are you doing? Don’t stop!"

"You’re getting too worked up."

"Whose fault is that?"

Krycek smiled an evil smile. Gorgeous, green-eyed Satan. "Mine. But I’m not ready for this to be over, yet. I’m enjoying watching you. You’re so pretty when you’re turned on."

"Jesus, Alex, please..."

"And you’re even prettier when you’re begging for it."

"How about when I’m threatening to rip your stitches out, one by one?"

"You don’t scare me. I know what some of your weaknesses are, now."

Mulder tried a different approach. He gave Krycek his best smoldering look. "You’re my weakness. No one’s ever done me the way you do." He threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled him down for a deep, nerve-rattling kiss. "Please," he murmured against Krycek’s open mouth.

"Well... since you asked so nicely..."

His hand once again enclosed Mulder’s cock.

"Thank you," he sighed. Krycek worked him gently, steadily. "Oh God, thank you..."

Krycek watched as his neck, that long, graceful neck, curved, pressing his head into the cushions. Hungrily watched the maddeningly full, luscious lips part ever so slightly on a soft whimper. Frantically strove to remain silent as thoughts such as he’d never had before, tempted him to give them voice.

"Mmph... oh... .Alex... oh God..."

Krycek quickened his strokes and rested his cheek against Mulder’s. "Let it go," he whispered against the light stubble. "Come on..." Mulder’s body tensed and he let out a low, harsh groan. Warm, slick fluid shot up and ran over Krycek’s fist and down his arm. He pumped Mulder’s cock for as long as his body continued to writhe and shudder. "That’s it baby," he encouraged. "Feel it."

Mind-shattering convulsions gave weigh to intermittent shivers as Mulder finally started to come down. Krycek kissed his temple, then his cheek.

"I could make you come twenty times a day, just to see that look on your face."

Mulder smiled weakly. "If anyone could do that, it’d be you." He opened his eyes and turned them to Krycek, who was making no attempt to conceal his pleasure at hearing the admission. He raised his arm and glanced at his watch. "Why don’t we call it a night?"

Krycek nodded. "You sleep in your bed. I’ll be fine here..."

Mulder shot him a puzzled look. "I don’t want you to sleep on the couch. I want you next to me."

Krycek opened his mouth to speak, but fell silent, not knowing exactly what to say.

"Why would you think that I wouldn’t want to sleep with you?"

"I... I don’t know," Krycek stammered. "It’s just so intimate. I didn’t know if you were ready for that."

Mulder’s brow wrinkled. "Alex... after what we just did... how much more intimate can we get?"

"It’s hard for me to explain. It just seems like a... a commitment, for lack of a better word."

Mulder’s gaze fell away from his face. "Oh. I guess I see what you mean. Uh... if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to..."

"No! No." He anchored his fingers in the hair at the back of Mulder’s head. "I’d really love to wake up next to you in the morning. I didn’t want to push you."

Mulder rose to his feet and pulled his jeans up over his hips, but did not bother to zipper them. Krycek watched him from the sofa.

"Meds, first."

When he disappeared into the kitchen, Krycek went into the bathroom to get cleaned up. He arrived back in the living room before Mulder, who reappeared some ten minutes later, with the pills and some food. When Krycek had finished, he took the plate and glass away, then returned and stood before him.

"Come on." He held out his hand. "Let’s go to bed."

Krycek studied him for a few seconds, before reaching out to grasp his wrist.

Mulder’s hand closed firmly around Krycek’s wrist, and pulled him to his feet. He turned wordlessly, and proceeded toward the bedroom. Krycek followed, keeping several paces behind. By the time he reached the bedroom door, Mulder was already inside. He stood in front of the bed, thumbs hooked in his back pockets. He was doing that infuriatingly sexy thing that he did with his bottom lip.

"Thought maybe you took a wrong turn somewhere."

Krycek lowered his eyes and laughed softly.

"What’s so funny?"

"You are."

"Me? Should I be insulted?"

Krycek looked across the six foot distance, into his eyes. "You’re such a contradiction. I don’t understand how it is you can do such a turnaround. Up until early this morning, you were mortified at the thought of what we’d done. And," he snapped his fingers. "this fast, you’ve completely changed. You’ve faced this head on and have even gone so far as to suck me off... beautifully, I might add, right in there, on your couch. I honestly can’t figure you out."

"I’m just tired of fooling myself. Takes a lot of energy that could be better spent on other things."

"Such as?"

"Enjoying my life. Some small part of it, anyway."

Krycek moved toward him. He stopped when they were practically touching. "Am I somewhere in there?"

"You’re everywhere in there."

He pulled off his tee-shirt, then did the same for Krycek. Each man finished undressing himself, then slipped into bed. Mulder displayed a sheepish grin.

"How do you sleep?’

"With one eye open, usually."

"I mean, in what position?"

Krycek suppressed a laugh. "Oh. Uh, on my back, I guess. You?"

"Don’t you know?"

"I didn’t watch you that often."

"I start out on my left side, but I wake up in all kinds of different positions." He jumped over Krycek and settled himself to his right.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Mulder gave no answer. He simply drew close to Krycek’s side and rested his head against his lover’s temple.

Krycek turned his head slightly to the right, so that it was now his cheek against the top of Mulder’s head. He brought his left hand up to rest on the arm that had draped itself loosely across his waist.

Without any more discussion, both men closed their eyes and drifted into sleep.

Monday, 7:10 a.m.

Krycek opened his eyes and immediately glanced to his right. He was alone in the bed. His arm swept the area where Mulder had been. Cold. He’d apparently been up for a while, but how long? Visions of Mulder slipping out of bed in the middle of the night, to sleep on the couch, flitted through his head. Maybe he wasn’t as comfortable with this as he thought he’d be. Krycek sighed inwardly.

"About damn time."

The amused masculine voice coming from the doorway, startled him. He jerked his head in that direction and found Mulder leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. The faint odor of bacon wafted in through the open door. Mulder pushed away from the wall and made his way over to the bed. Krycek watched mutely, as he lowered himself to the edge. They searched each other’s eyes for a number of seconds, then Krycek spoke.

"How long have you been up?"

"About two hours."

Relief. He nodded. "Are you cooking?"

Mulder smirked. "To the best of my ability. I don’t do it very often, so I don’t want to hear any complaints."

"You won’t get any out of me. I can’t remember the last time somebody made me breakfast."

"Well, get up, get showered and changed. It should be ready in about ten minutes." He motioned to the chair, where he’d already laid out clothes and underwear. "Got some fresh clothes for you over there." He patted Krycek’s thigh twice, then rose and moved to the door. "Get moving," he ordered as he passed into the hall.

7:25 a.m.

Krycek stood in the doorway, watching as Mulder heaped scrambled eggs into a plate. As obviously ill at ease as he was in the kitchen, there was still an exquisite grace to his fumbling. Krycek smiled to himself.

"Coffee?"

"How’d you know I was here?"

Mulder turned to place the dish on the table. He straightened his back and shrugged. "I knew." He motioned to the chair in front of which, he’d just put the bacon and eggs. He stepped out of the way as Krycek moved forward and seated himself. As he turned back to the stove to get his own plate, he repeated his offer. "So, do you want any coffee?"

Krycek shook his head. "Never got in the habit."

Mulder poured himself a cup. "I don’t drink much, myself... especially for an FBI agent. Most of the people at the Bureau have a cup permanently fused to their hands. I usually just have some in the morning and that’s it."

Krycek looked down and noticed the pills alongside his glass of orange juice. Mulder took in the disturbed expression that suddenly crossed his face.

"Something wrong?"

"Would you tell me the truth if I asked you how much you minded that I’ve completely upset your life?"

"I wouldn’t exactly use the word, ‘upset’."

"What, then?"

"Changed."

"Okay, how much does it bother you that I’ve changed your life?"

"At first? It bothered the hell out of me, but you know that. Now? It doesn’t. I welcome the change."

"You can actually sit there and tell me that it doesn’t bother you in the least that all of sudden, you’re sharing your bed with someone else, cooking for two, keeping track of medication, in a real bad place with your partner and best friend..."

"Eggs get cold, fast."

Krycek stared at him. "Is that your way of avoiding my question?"

"No, it’s my way of telling you that your breakfast is getting cold."

Krycek gave up and dug into his food. When he was through, he picked up the plate and started to push away from the table. Mulder rose immediately and took it from him. He dropped back into the chair and watched as Mulder rinsed the plate and put it into the dishwasher. That done, he turned and leaned on the table, facing Krycek.

"I like that you’re here." Mulder held him immobile, using nothing but his eyes. What seemed like two hours later, he backed away and went about clearing the rest of the table, leaving Krycek to agonize in the residual heat of his stare.

After he’d finished stacking the dishwasher, he picked up the phone and dialed.

"Scully? Wasn’t sure I was going to catch you at home. Oh. Uh-huh. Pretty well, I think. Yeah. Come on, Scully... I’m talking to you, aren’t I? Fine. When? Right." He hung up and clasped his hand to the back of his neck, twisting it as far as it would go, to one side, then back.

"Didn’t sound especially pleasant."

"It’s going to take her a little while."

"I think you’re deluding yourself."

"I don’t."

"Okay, whatever."

"She’s coming by to check you out."

Krycek was about to reply with a wise crack, but thought better of the idea. He cleared his throat and asked, "When?"

"Later this afternoon. When she’s through at the office."

"Can’t wait."

"Why don’t you go relax? Watch TV or something? I’ll finish up in here."

"What are you going to do, after?"

Mulder shrugged. "I got some work I can do."

"You can go out if you need to, you know. I promise I won’t take off or anything."

"There’s no place I need to be."

"But if there was... you don’t need to stay here and hold my hand."

Mulder approached once more and leaned over him. "It isn’t your hand I enjoy holding."

"I think I’ve created a monster."

"You sorry?"

"No... no, I can’t say that I am."

"Then shut up and get yourself into the living room."

He moved away and proceeded to clean up. Krycek watched him for a while, then quietly rose from his chair and exited the room.

4:49 p.m.

The soft knock brought Mulder’s head up. He glanced from the computer screen, to the door, to Krycek, who was dozing on the sofa. Still asleep. He quickly rose from his chair and went to the door. Scully stood rigidly in the hall, her medical bag in-hand.

"Hey."

"Hey."

He stepped aside and allowed her to enter.

"Working?" she asked, noting that he was wearing his glasses.

"Yeah. There was some stuff I needed to catch up on."

"Where’s Krycek?"

"He’s asleep," Mulder announced, almost inaudibly.

Scully looked past Mulder, at the man dozing comfortably on the sofa. A twinge of anger flushed her cheeks.

"He’s been taking his meds when he’s supposed to?"

"I make sure he takes them on time."

Scully closed her eyes briefly, then re-opened them. The thought of Mulder catering to this man just went up one side of her and down the other. She swallowed down her ire and checked her watch."

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Well, I have a few things to do."

"I’ll wake him."

Mulder walked over to the sofa and bent slightly at the waist. He laid a gentle hand on Krycek’s arm and softly spoke his name. The corner of Krycek’s mouth slanted upward, then back into place. Other than that, he did not stir. Mulder firmed his grip on the sleeping man’s arm.

"Wake up."

"Hmmm..."

He shook Krycek’s arm and called to him, again.

"Alex. Hey."

"What?" The reply of a man, still half-asleep.

"Wake up, okay?"

Krycek moaned and opened his eyes reluctantly. He smiled sleepily and covered Mulder’s hand with his own. Mulder didn’t pull away, but he could feel the tension in him.

"Scully’s here."

Ah. Well, that explained that.

Krycek took his hand away and struggled into a sitting position. He looked past Mulder into the blatantly irritated face of Dana Scully.

"How do you feel?" she asked from where she stood.

"Pretty good," he said as he became more alert. "Just a little sore."

"Uh huh."

Mulder moved out of the way, as she walked over to the sofa and quickly performed her examination. Once she’d changed the dressing on his wound, she immediately backed away and closed up her bag.

"Everything is fine. I’ll remove the stitches in about a week or so."

"Thank you."

Instead of acknowledging his expression of gratitude, Scully turned to her partner. "Mulder, call me if any problems arise. Other than that, I’ll see you on Wednesday."

"Scully, can I have a few seconds?"

She hesitated, then nodded curtly.

"Excuse us," Mulder said to Krycek and placed a hand under Scully’s elbow. He steered her into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.

"What’s up?" she asked, trying her level best to sound casual.

"Take a good look," he said, raising his arms out to his sides and turning in a circle. "No cuts, no bruises... I’m still walking and talking, so I must be alive..."

"What’s your point?"

"He’s no danger to me."

Scully turned around, then almost immediately spun back to face him.

"Yes, he is! If not physically, then most certainly, emotionally and mentally! Let me ask you a question. Where do you see this going?"

"I don’t know."

"You don’t know. How far do you think it can go?" Before Mulder could answer, she continued with her diatribe. "You’ve got to keep this thing in the shadows. You’re not a private citizen, Mulder. You belong to the government. An intolerant, homophobic government. Krycek, isn’t exactly a regular guy, either. He’s got more dirt swept under his rug than anyone you and I know, put together."

"He’s through with all that."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, Mulder! Get real! Think for a minute, would you? Even if he’s absolutely sincere about that, which I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe... this isn’t some street gang that if he wants to quit, he can get jumped out of! He’s stuck!"

"It’s in their best interests not to push him, and they know it."

"Okay, what about these other people who tried to kill him? They just may succeed, someday. What I’m saying Mulder, is that it can’t last. Sooner or later, one way or another, it’s going to end, and you’ll be hurt. You don’t know how I hate the thought of what this could do to you."

Mulder approached her slowly and placed his hands on her shoulders. He inclined his head and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you. But please, try to understand. I know the dangers. I know the problems that come with this. I’m willing to deal with them. You might not want to hear this Scully, but... he makes me feel so good. I look at him and he just does things to me."

"It used to be, not all that long ago, that you’d look at him and want to kill him."

"I wanted him then, Scully. I just wouldn’t allow myself to come to that realization. The big thing between us was the fact that I thought he’d killed my father and Melissa." He shook his head. "He didn’t."

"Even if he didn’t Mulder, he betrayed you. How can you forget that?"

"We discussed that and came to an understanding about it." He cupped her face in his hands. "Please, Scully. Can you try to accept this? For me?"

Scully looked up at him with somber eyes. She grasped both of his hands and held them together in hers as she raised them to her lips. The brief kiss was followed by a tight squeeze. She released his hands and turned toward the door. He remained where he stood, staring after her.

Scully passed through the living room, and ignoring Krycek, headed to the door.

"Scully?"

She stopped in her tracks, but did not turn.

"I won’t do anything to hurt him."

Scully stood motionless for a moment, then proceeded to the door. A soft click of the latch, and she was gone.

Krycek tore his eyes from the closed door and went quietly to the kitchen. He found Mulder slouched in a chair, one long leg stretched out before him, both hands laid flat on top of the table. He approached slowly and slid his palms along Mulder’s shoulders.

"You okay?"

Mulder nodded.

Krycek kneaded the knotted muscles. "You’re tight."

No response.

"She got you thinking, didn’t she?

"About what?"

"About what the hell it is you’re doing."

Again, no answer.

Krycek leaned in close to Mulder’s cheek and spoke softly. "You need time to figure out whether or not you can live with a rift between the two of you. He turned Mulder’s face to his. "And you can’t do that with me around."

"I don’t want you to go..." The thought hit him like a hammer. "But you do."

"No..."

"Jesus." Mulder got up and moved over to the far end of the kitchen. "I was so wrapped up in my feelings, I never stopped to think that maybe what you wanted from me was only physical..." Had he been looking at Krycek, he would have seen him shaking his head. "Look... uh... as soon as you feel up to it, you can go. I won’t stop you."

Krycek advanced toward him, slowly. "I will. But not because I want to. I’ll leave because it’s what’s best."

"For who?"

"For you." Krycek stopped when their bodies were slightly touching. "Try to work it out with Scully. I think, she thinks that my presence is having a lot of influence on you. She’s itching to get you away from me, so she can try to talk some sense into you. Maybe if I’m not around and she sees that you still feel the same, she’ll finally get it." He didn’t believe a word he was saying to Mulder. "Maybe she’ll come to understand."

Mulder’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. "Where will you go?"

"I’ve got someplace I can stay."

Mulder titled his head and frowned. Krycek wished like hell that he wouldn’t look at him like that.

"I’ll be okay. I’ll come back in a week, so she can remove the stitches."

"And then, what?"

"I don’t know. I hardly think a week is enough time for you to do what you need to do. I get the feeling that Scully is a tough woman to convince of anything that she might be skeptical about, much less something like this."

"What if I can’t make her understand? What if there’ll always be a degree of discomfort between us, if you and I continue?"

"I told you, that’s what I need to know. You have to ask yourself if that’s something that you can live with. You love Scully. She’s your best friend as well as your partner. Can you forgive yourself if something like this comes between you? I don’t think you can. And if that’s true, then things will go real bad, real fast, for us. I don’t want that to happen. I’d rather end it right now... hell, I’d even rather go back to the way we were, than see that happen."

"Will..." Mulder stopped to clear his throat, then started again. "Will you stay until I go back to work on Wednesday?"

Krycek cupped the back of his head with one hand, and brought their lips together. "Yeah," he said, after they parted.

One more day. Krycek’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. Two more nights. It was more than he’d ever dreamed they’d have.

Tuesday, 5:46 p.m.

Mulder stabbed at the fried rice, again and again, with his fork. Krycek put his carton of chicken chow mein down on the desk and watched him.

"I think it’s dead."

The rhythmic action stopped. Mulder attempted a weak smile. "Can’t be too sure."

"You haven’t eaten much."

"I could say the same to you."

Krycek left his seat by Mulder’s desk and came to sit beside him on the sofa. He gently removed the fork and carton from Mulder’s hands and placed them on the coffee table.

"I don’t want you to think that this is easy for me." He reached out and cupped Mulder’s face. His thumb swept back and forth across the cheekbone. "It’s not."

Mulder nodded his acknowledgment.

"You want to turn in early?" His words sounded innocent enough, but his eyes were full of hidden meaning.

The smile this time, was genuine. "It’s a little early to think about going to sleep, isn’t it?"

"I don’t recall saying anything about sleep."

"I didn’t... I didn’t think..."

"Why? Because I didn’t touch you, last night? It was a heavy day. I just wanted to put my arms around you and let you feel warmth and comfort. And remind you that you were safe with me."

"I stopped expecting a gunshot to the head, some time ago."

"I don’t mean that." He let his hand slide downward, then stopped it over Mulder’s heart. Understanding flashed in the depths of those incredible hazel eyes. And something else.

"Let’s go to bed."

He pulled Krycek up by the front of his shirt and led him to the bedroom.

"That’s all I was saying..."

Once in the room, Mulder pushed Krycek against the wall and pinned him there by his wrists. His mouth went to the hollow between Krycek’s neck and shoulder, alternately nipping and licking. An unintelligible sound issued from the trapped man’s throat. Mulder wandered to his ear.

"Remember that first time that we were together and you asked me to tell you my deepest darkest fantasies?"

"Yeah."

"Do you still want to know?"

"Oh, yeah."

"The times that we fought... even after... these images of me fucking you would always be stuck in my mind. Loud. Violent. Like animals. I’d get so hard thinking about it, it’d actually hurt."

"Is that what you want?"

"Maybe... but without the black eyes and bloody noses."

Krycek’s grin turned into a grimace as he felt the sting of Mulder’s teeth at his earlobe.

"Not now, though," Mulder rasped in his ear. After your wound heals."

"And after you’ve had some experience."

"Which you’ll give me, tonight?"

Krycek’s eyes darkened. "If you like."

"I like."

He freed himself from the grip Mulder still held on his wrists and, in an instant, turned things around. This time, it was Mulder up against the wall, but Krycek had him turned, facing it. He pressed against Mulder from behind, holding his wrists in a tight grasp, slightly out from his body, against the plaster. He rubbed his cheek against the back of Mulder’s head, enjoying the sensuous feel of his hair, cool and silky on his heated skin.

Mulder turned his face to the side and flattened his cheek against the wall. His eyes closed and his lips parted as Krycek crushed him between his body and the unyielding surface in front of him. Krycek released one of his wrists, but Mulder kept his arm where it was. The hand that had freed him, made its way down to the top button of his jeans and efficiently undid it. The zipper gave next, and then his hand was there, insinuating itself between his jeans and underwear and the wall, stroking, squeezing.

Krycek listened attentively. As soon as he heard Mulder’s breaths turn shallow, he ceased his actions. He removed his hand from Mulder’s other wrist, with a soft warning. "Keep them there." He slipped both hands inside his lover’s jeans and pulled them and his underwear down and off in one swift movement. He straightened his posture and quickly disposed of his lower garments in the same manner.

Mulder grunted softly as he felt Krycek’s fingers trailing up and down his spine, in feathery lines. They reached the enticing curve that started just below the small of his back and Krycek could see that small jerk of Mulder’s hips. He smiled, curving his hands to the tightly muscled flesh and gave a gentle squeeze. Mulder jumped again.

"A little sensitive, are we?" he teased.

Mulder gave no answer. He was already too far gone for rational thought.

Krycek brushed his fingers down the length of the cleft of Mulder’s ass, feeling his whole body tighten in natural response.

"It’s okay," he cooed. "We’re going to do this nice and slow." His fingers continued to tease. "If at any time you want to stop, just tell me. I will not hurt you. Do you have any lube?"

Again he received no answer.

"Hey." He patted Mulder’s hip.

"Hmm."

"Lubrication. Do you have any KY or anything like that? It’ll make things a hell of a lot easier."

Mulder attempted to get his breathing under control, long enough to answer. "I don’t know. Bathroom, maybe."

"Okay. Come on." He led Mulder to the bed and pulled his shirt off, before letting him sink to the mattress. He stole quickly into the bathroom and began rummaging through the drawers, mumbling as he searched. "Everybody in the world keeps their lube in the nightstand. Not this guy. Oddball right to the very last detail." Finally, he hit paydirt. He lifted the tube out of the third drawer and tested its weight. Very light. He hoped to hell that there was enough.

Mulder lay trembling on the bed as thoughts of what was to come, tumbled through his mind. His already rigid erection swelled painfully as he imagined Krycek driving his cock deeper and deeper into his ass. He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. What the hell was taking him so long? If making him wait was Krycek’s sick idea of a joke...

Before he could complete his thought, he felt the hard warmth of a body, pressing his into the mattress.

"Miss me?" Krycek breathed against his shoulder.

"What the hell took you so long?"

"Have you opened those drawers lately? I’m lucky nothing in there bit me."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yeah, but I don’t know. It feels kind of empty."

"Cut it open. There should be something in the nightstand that you can use."

Krycek slid off Mulder and reached to his right, pulling open the drawer. He pulled a long, slim object out. There was a click then a swishing sound as the five inch blade appeared from within the handle. He blinked in surprise.

"But he’s got a switchblade in the nightstand..."

He cut the tube open and found too little lubrication inside for comfort.

"Alex..."

"I don’t think there’s enough in here."

"But there is some?"

"Yeah..."

"It’s enough."

"I don’t think so."

"You’re not getting out of this." Mulder turned onto his back and focused his eyes on Krycek’s face.

Krycek stretched out alongside Mulder and ran his hand down the length of his upper body and up again. He stopped at one tight nipple and plucked gently. He watched, satisfied, as Mulder’s jaw clenched and a clipped sound caught in his throat.

"I never said I wanted out." He moved closer. "But this is your first time." He held the open tube up. "This would make it easier on you."

Mulder took the tube from his hand and looked at its contents. "It’ll do."

"Fox..."

He tossed the tube back onto the nightstand and curved his hand around Krycek’s neck. "I want this and I won’t wait for it." He pulled Krycek down for a hard, mind-numbing kiss, then released him abruptly. "Tonight. Do you hear me?"

Krycek stared down at him, captivated by this man’s tenacity.

Mulder’s tone softened. "Do me, Alex." He brushed his mouth against Krycek’s. "I want you so much."

Krycek’s heart felt as though it was going to pound a hole through the wall of his chest. He released a short, hard breath. "You’re a damn persuasive man, you know that?"

"I just know what I want," he said as his hand gently gripped Krycek’s erection. "Are you going to give it to me?"

Krycek sighed as Mulder caressed him. "If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to." He took Mulder’s hand away. "Turn onto your right side."

Mulder did as he asked, without question. Krycek moved against him, molding himself to his body. One arm snaked around his chest and pulled him even closer. His lips found the rapid pulse in Mulder’s neck and he touched his tongue to it.

"Mmmmmmm."

Krycek’s hand moved from his chest, downward. As it closed around his straining cock, he could hear a tiny gasp escape Mulder’s throat. He fondled him tenderly as his mouth worked the length of his neck.

Instinctively, Mulder pressed back against Krycek’s hips. The hardness that nudged him, brought an urgent desire. He needed that hardness. Needed to feel it inside him. Now. He began to rock against Krycek.

"God. Fox, what are you doing?

Mulder tilted his head back so that his lips could touch Krycek’s face. "I can’t wait anymore, Alex. Please."

Krycek hesitated.

"Please."

Shit.

Krycek snatched the tube off the nightstand and coated two fingers with it, careful not to use more than he needed. He leaned over Mulder and whispered soothingly into his ear. "Relax, okay? Take a few deep breaths and just try to relax your whole body." He rubbed his cheek against Mulder’s. "Tell me if I’m hurting you." He slowly worked one finger to the tight opening. He’d barely got the tip in, when he felt the muscles contract. "It’s okay. Nice and easy." He slipped in another fraction. Mulder moaned and in his concern, Krycek took it as an expression of pain. "Damn. I’m sorry..."

"No. Don’t. It’s all right. Don’t stop..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He was panting. "Please."

Krycek continued, moving at a painfully slow pace. When at last he had one finger half-way in, he withdrew just far enough to add the second.

Mulder threw his head back and gasped aloud.

"Relax. Breathe slowly. You’re doing great. Breathe, lisa. I need you to relax... that’s it..."

A few minutes later, Krycek’s two fingers were completely embedded in his lover. Carefully, he began to move them in and out. With his free hand, he reached over Mulder’s hip and began to stroke his cock. A loud, harsh groan ripped from Mulder’s throat.

"Is that good, baby?" Krycek taunted.

"Christ, yes!"

"You ready for the real thing?"

Mulder nodded.

Just as carefully as he’d inserted them, Krycek removed his fingers and again reached for the lube. Praying that it’d be enough, he skimmed every last bit from the split tube and applied it. His erection throbbed. Whether it was from the brief contact with his fingers or from the anticipation of burying himself deep within this man, he wasn’t sure. He suspected it may have been both.

"Just like before, now," he said. "Deep breaths. Just relax and it’ll be okay."

Gripping his cock at its base, he guided it between the constricting muscles and paused at the opening. He took a long breath and proceeded.

Mulder gritted his teeth and a low, rough, hum pushed past his throat as he felt himself being stretched beyond all reasonable expectation.

"Do you want me to stop?"

A hoarse whisper. "No."

He pressed forward, another centimeter. And another.

Mulder’s breaths came in ragged gasps. He curled his fingers into the pillow, and buried his face in it.

"Fox." Krycek’s voice came to him, as if in a dream. "Listen to me. I’m going to take you all the way through this." He kissed the curve of Mulder’s shoulder. "I promise you, it’s going to feel so good, if you can just hold on a few minutes more..." He pushed deeper, as gently as he could. The sound of Mulder’s muffled whimper, sent a fresh surge of desire thundering through him.

Keep it in check, Alex.

"Are you all right?"

"No." Mulder’s answer came out in a rush of breath.

"What’s wrong? Tell me."

"Give it to me, Alex. Stop teasing me."

Krycek couldn’t mask his surprise. "I thought I was hurting you."

"You are... but you’re not killing me. Finish. I want to feel you deep inside me."

Krycek stroked his chest. "We’re almost there." He inched deeper, bit by bit, until he was completely embedded in Mulder’s heat.

"Ohhh, Jesus!" Mulder’s chest heaved. "Fuck me, Alex..."

Krycek clenched his teeth and attempted to still the rocking of Mulder’s hips. "Wait. Give me a second, okay? Just don’t move. I feel like I’m going to explode..."

As hard as it was, Mulder lay still. He didn’t want Krycek to come, yet. He refused to be deprived of the sensation of his lover’s hard cock, pumping steadily, in and out of his ass. It was what he’d been fantasizing about for years, and he’d be damned if anything was going to stop him from experiencing it.

An eternity later, Krycek began to move. Mulder emitted a low moan.

"Is there any more pain?" Krycek murmured against the back of his neck.

He shook his head from side to side. "Noooo. Oh God, Alex. No pain."

Krycek wrapped his hand around Mulder’s cock and slowly, began to stroke up and down. Mulder sucked in his breath.

"Good." He established a smooth, even, double rhythm. "No more pain. I won’t ever hurt you again. All I want to do is give you pleasure." He quickened his pace just a bit. "Does this feel good?"

Mulder nodded. "So good." He pushed back as Krycek rocked forward. "Harder..."

"No, baby. Let’s just take it easy, tonight."

"No..."

"Yes. If I do you the way you want me to, this’ll be over in nothing flat. I’m enjoying you too much to end it, now. Please, can we wait a while?"

Mulder sighed.

"Please?"

He reached behind his shoulder and threaded his fingers through Krycek’s hair. "Do it your way."

"Thank you."

For the next ten minutes, Krycek teased Mulder, mercilessly. He’d bring them both to the brink of orgasm, then stop, drawing many a protest and even a few threats from the object of his torment. Finally, Mulder had had enough. It was coming this time, and there was no stopping it. Krycek sensed as much. He increased the speed and strength of his thrusts. His hand kept pace with his hips and he whispered into Mulder’s ear.

"Okay. This is what you wanted. Come for me... .come... for me..." His voice trailed off as the first wave of his orgasm hit.

Krycek’s hoarse cry was joined almost immediately by Mulder’s. Their respective climaxes hit with a force previously unknown to either man, and when it was done, they lay together, weakened and exhausted and drenched in sweat. Krycek shifted with the intention to disengage himself. Mulder stopped him.

"No. Don’t. It feels so good. Don’t pull out, yet."

Krycek scattered small kisses in Mulder’s dampened hair. "You’re amazing." He tucked his arm around Mulder’s waist and snuggled close. In no time at all, they were both asleep.

Wednesday, 5:15 a.m.

Mulder brought his palm down on the alarm clock button, bringing to an end its annoying buzz. He smiled, feeling the warm presence behind him. The smile faded when he realized that it was Wednesday morning. He turned over, grimacing at the vague soreness he felt, and met the deep green eyes of the man who had last night taken him to a place he’d never in his life imagined going.

"Good morning."

Mulder chewed the inside of his bottom lip. "It is, and it isn’t."

"I know."

Mulder wanted so much to ask him to stay, but they’d settled this issue already, and he would not push it, again.

"Shower and some breakfast before you go?"

Krycek smiled sadly. "Well, I think that a shower is a good idea... I’m surprised we aren’t stuck together... but after that, I think I’ll just go. We shouldn’t drag this out any longer than we have to."

Mulder nodded.

"Besides, I should leave while it’s still relatively early. You don’t want any of your neighbors seeing me coming out of your apartment, do you?"

"Unless there’s gunfire, they pretty much just ignore the things they see around here, now. I think they’ve learned to expect just about anything. I’ll bet a few of them could tell you the first names of most of the officers in the Alexandria Police Department."

"Well, just the same..."

"Yeah."

Krycek sat up and looked around the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just... when I left that morning, I thought I’d never come back here again. I never expected that I’d be back in this bed. And I sure as hell never expected that I’d spend the night, making love with you, in it. I’ll never forget it."

"Stop."

Krycek looked down at Mulder. His eyes reflected a myriad of emotions, not the least of which was anger.

"What did I say?"

"You have no intention of ever coming back here, do you?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I can see it all over your face."

Krycek lowered himself to Mulder’s level and threaded a hand through his hair. "You’re reading me wrong there, crack profiler. I fully intend to come back, next Wednesday. If I don’t show, don’t think that it’s because I didn’t want to."

Mulder understood the vague inference.

"Do you believe me?"

Mulder studied him for a moment and answered. "Watch your ass. Come Wednesday, it’s mine."

Krycek smiled. "I’ll do my best." He brought his mouth down on Mulder’s for a long, tender kiss. Pulling away reluctantly, he rose from the bed and walked toward the bathroom.

Mulder fought the urge to follow him to the shower. He knew what would result and he knew that there was no way that he would be able to stop himself from begging Krycek to stay, if he allowed himself to be placed in a weakened state. Instead, he got up and retrieved his jeans from the floor. He pulled them on, then proceeded to strip the bed. That done, he went to the closet and pulled out a navy blue suit, white shirt, and a tie, and laid them over the chair. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

Krycek shut the shower off and grabbed the towel that he’d thrown over the curtain rod. He dried himself slowly, letting his mind wander to last night. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to discourage the stirring he felt in his groin. The soft knock startled him. He wrapped the towel around his waist and answered.

"Yeah."

The door opened and Mulder walked in. "There are a few sets of clothes on the bed. I don’t know if you’ll be able to get back to where you were staying, so..."

Krycek nodded. "Thanks. I don’t know, either. I’ll see... well... let me get out of your way, so you can get ready for work."

"Don’t leave until I get out of the shower."

Krycek hesitated. "Okay." He turned away, unable to watch Mulder strip and step into the shower. He left the bathroom and got dressed, doing his best to ignore his growing erection. He gathered up the remaining clothes and placed them inside of the duffel bag that Mulder had left next to them.

By the time the sound of running water stopped, Krycek had managed to regain his composure. Ten minutes later, Mulder emerged from the bathroom and began to get dressed. Krycek watched silently from the other end of the room. Mulder finished buttoning his shirt, then reached for the tie.

"You’ve got to be kidding me." Krycek approached him from behind. "Where do you get these ties?

Mulder looked down. "What’s wrong with it?"

Krycek laughed softly. He placed a hand on Mulder’s shoulder and turned him around. "Nothing," he answered, as he pushed Mulder’s hands away and finished knotting the tie. Mulder stood quietly, as he worked, eyes never leaving his face. When he was through, he pulled on the tie, bringing Mulder in closer. "I really should be going."

Mulder cast his eyes downward. "I know."

"I’ll see you next week."

"All right."

"Be careful, okay? Just in case?"

"I will. You too."

Both men turned and walked toward the living room and the front door.

"Damn. Wait a minute."

Mulder disappeared into the kitchen and came back with Krycek’s meds. He handed them over and watched as Krycek stuffed them into the bag.

"Thanks."

"Don’t forget to take them."

"I won’t."

Brief nod.

"Okay. Well..."

Mulder closed the distance between them and brushed Krycek’s jaw with his knuckles. "Please be careful."

"You already said that."

"It bears repeating."

Krycek leaned forward and laid a quick, hard kiss on Mulder’s lips. He opened the door and slipped out, without another word between them.

Mulder stood in the open doorway for a bit, staring at nothing in particular, then closed the door and walked back into his empty apartment.

End

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