He wasn't completely drunk. He was at the stage where he still knew that drinking with an FBI Agent was probably going to get him in big trouble, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. He was completely fixated on the sight of cake disappearing in between her plump lips. So fixated that he thought he must have misheard her next statement.

"Are you gay?"

Spluttering from surprise, he managed to yelp "What!?" in a most unmanly fashion. And he'd just sprayed a mouthful of margarita all over himself. Unbelievably smooth.

"Well, this place is, you know, sorta . . ." Then she did that limp wrist wave instead of coming out and saying it. Yeah, the house looked queer. That's because the owner was queer. But he wasn't the owner. He couldn't very well tell Scully about Rachelle. She was a good friend, and he wasn't going to bring the FBI down on her just because he had to prove a point about his sexuality.

"Since when does liking purple make someone gay?" he asked, hoping to make her squirm. Worked like a charm.

"The vibrator?"

Shit. He'd forgotten about that. Why did Rachelle have to leave it lying around? And in the kitchen of all places? The first thing that popped out of his mouth was, "It's not mine."

The look on her face let him know what she thought of that. "Sure. I used that line too. My mother didn't believe me either."

Stupid stubborn woman. Why did he care so much what she thought? Maybe because he would have less of a chance getting her out of his underwear if she thought he liked guys. "I'm not gay."

"Look, forget I even said anything--"

"I'm. Not. Gay." And apparently there was only one way to convince her. Before she could anticipate what he was doing, he jumped her. She put up the token struggle, and then stilled much more quickly than he expected. He took it as a good sign and began lowering his face toward hers. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't look panicked. Not at all.

"What are you doing?"

"Showing you how not gay I am," he grinned, descending the last precious inch to bring their lips together. His tongue immediately sought entrance into her mouth, hoping to get a good taste of her before she came to her senses. When there was still no resistance, he deepened the kiss. She still wasn't pushing him away, wasn't biting his tongue off. He nibbled on her lips for a moment before delving back into her warm mouth. His tongue fluttered along the roof of her mouth and brushed against her tongue, earning a tiny response as her lips moved against his.

This was un-fucking-believable. He let his arms relax and rested more of his weight on her. She felt so soft beneath him, so warm. And she was starting to kiss him back, like maybe she wanted him. The idea sent a bolt of lust straight to his cock and he found himself grinding his crotch against her hip. Then the most amazing thing happened. Dana Scully groaned into his mouth, a throaty mewling noise that he never imagined she could make. Her hips jerked up and he felt the whisper of fingertips on his skin.

Shit. He was only supposed to be proving a point. And that point was . . .? Oh. Right. He wasn't gay. With some force of will that he didn't know he had, he pulled away. She just laid there for a moment, panting through kiss-swollen lips and looking like that wet dream again. He wasn't sure how he stopped himself from pouncing on her again. There was always the threat of having his balls ripped off. When her eyes finally opened, he watched her carefully, waiting for a flash of shock or anger. Instead, her eyes held a glazed expression that didn't quite evaporate. When her gaze caught hold of the erection he was sporting, she actually gasped. He couldn't stop the smirk that spread over his face. Goddamn. He'd really gotten to her. She was making no move to castrate him, to run for the door, or to at least spring up and get away. She wanted him. She really did. Goddamn.

After an eternity he caught her eyes. Even in the candle light he could see that the blue had diminished to a tiny ring around her pupils. Maybe she looked like a wet dream because this was a wet dream and he was asleep in his bed right now. And he wouldn't get shot for trying to bag an FBI Agent. In that case . . .

He started to crawl toward her on the floor, watching the increasing desire cross her features. His seduction was ruined by the sharp pain that suddenly shot through his knee and up his thigh. All feeling abandoned his leg as he fell to the side and right into something wet and sticky

"Shit! Stupid cake." He clutched his knee, wondering if he could look like more of an idiot. Scully hovered over him.

"What happened?"

He groped the floor blindly, finally feeling warm metal against his fingers. A stupid fork. "Fork jabbed me in the knee." Directing all of his frustration into the utensil, he hurled it across the room. It bounced off something with a satisfying thunk.

"I'm sure the fork deserved it," Scully observed dryly. "But what about the cake?"

Could he look like more of an idiot? The answer to that was definitely yes. He glanced around, unable to believe the grin that was stretching across her lips. Then she laughed at him. He couldn't really blame her. It was a little bit like a bad 70's sitcom.

"It's fine," he insisted when she asked about his knee. "I think I must have hit a nerve, because it stung like a bitch, but it's okay now. I better go clean this off."

"Wait."

He glanced at her, seeing the indecision written all over her face. What was going on in that brain of hers? That's when the second most amazing thing happened. She pushed him back to the floor and lowered her mouth with agonizing slowness, never once breaking eye contact.

Holy shit. He tensed, willing himself not to come in his pants. She was licking him. She was eating the remainder of the cake off his body. He closed his eyes for a second. Maybe when he opened them she'd be gone, like it really was a dream. Then one small hand closed around his bicep, and another skimmed down his side. Her tongue was taking broad swipes across his skin, lapping up the frosting like a hungry cat. She had to stop now or he was going to embarrass himself like a horny teenager. He reached for her, meaning to push her away, but instead his hand settled in her hair, carding through the damp strands. At his touch she looked up, and the heat between their gazes almost set him on fire.

"What are you doing?" he asked, echoing her earlier words. His voice only shook a little.

"Can't let good cake go to waste." She smirked at him. Christ. How had he never noticed that this woman was sexy as hell?

He let out a desperate moan. "Shit, Scully . . ." And then he was pulling her up, and she seemed to weigh nothing, but that might have been because she was moving toward him just as much as he was pulling her. Their mouths met and he tightened his hold on her hair. He was probably hurting her a little, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she began to rock her hips against his, and the two layers of cotton between them did nothing to disguise the wet heat of her. He gasped in shock and her tongue slithered between his lips. The taste of her exploded in his mouth. Chocolate, and rum, and utter sweetness.

Both hands slid down to her ass to press her firmly against his groin. She moaned and arched her back, baring her throat. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Krycek latched onto the smooth skin of her neck and traced random patterns with his tongue.

"Oooh. This is crazy," she said, never stopping the undulating of her hips. She reached back and grabbed his wrists, bringing his arms over his head and stretching out on top of his body.

"Mmmmm," he murmured against her neck. Crazy didn't even begin to describe it. Unexpected, electrifying, awesome, overwhelming.

"If anyone finds out about this, I'll lose my job."

"If anyone finds out about this, I'll lose my head," he countered. She stilled and looked down at him. Concern flashed in her eyes, and he thought for one terrible moment that she was going pull away.

Suddenly he felt something cool and slick tighten around his wrists. Shit! This was probably when she pulled a hidden gun from somewhere and tried to arrest him again. He tugged on his bonds. They weren't tight. In fact, they felt like . . . silk. What the hell? Her hand skimmed up his arm and covered his wrists, stilling his movements. Then the corner of her mouth quirked in a lopsided smile.

"You win."

Thank God. She wasn't stopping. Not even close. He relaxed slightly. So Scully had a kink. That was fine with him. His bonds were loose enough that he'd be able to get free if he needed.

Her lips descended on his, but at the last minute she veered to the side to nibble on his jaw. Those pouty lips made their way down his throat, stopping to suck on his adam's apple before continuing down to trace the ridge of his collar bone with a pink tongue. It took all of his willpower not to come as she worked her way down his smooth chest, nipping and sucking as her nails teased up and down his sides. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at the sight of her red hair spread over his abdomen. Oh dear Lord. She kept going down, down, and then she was tonguing the waistband of his sweats. He jumped as her finger traced a line up his covered erection.

"Jesus!" he gasped. "You know, Scully. The last time you were down there it wasn't exactly a pleasant experience." A whole sentence. Maybe he wasn't as far gone as he thought. He craned his neck to see her response. Instead of speaking, she gave him another cheshire grin and pulled down his sweats. His erection bobbed up right in front of her face, but she kept her eyes focused on his. Before he realized what was happening he was enveloped in the most incredible wet heat. His hips surged forward but Scully pushed him back to the floor with firm hands. Either he'd lost all control of his muscles, or she was a lot stronger than she looked. Could have been some combination of both.

Pleasure coursed through his limbs as her mouth moved slowly over his cock, cheeks caved in with the force of the suction. He shuddered and let out a pathetic moan. Oh God. Her tongue--how did she know just how to--God. If he wasn't dead now, he was going to be soon, because this was almost heaven. Her fingers slid in between his legs and cupped his balls, kneading gently. He was gonna come. There was no holding back now. Gonna come gonna come gonna--

Her hand clamped around the base of his cock just in time, and he felt the pressure begin to recede. Her tongue flicked over the head a few times, drawing whimpers, and then she let him go with a wet pop. He wanted to free his hands so he could touch her, run his fingers over her skin, through her hair. That glorious red hair. There was a pool running at the Bureau to find out if Scully was a natural redhead. When he'd worked there a year ago, it had been up to four hundred dollars. But curiosity got the best of him. He waited to see what she would do.

His dick twitched as she laid a lingering kiss on the side, before working the sweats down his legs and off entirely. Her shorts went next. Another tremor rushed through his bones. Jesus Christ. If he didn't know better, it looked like Dana Scully was going to have sex with him. There was no way this was really happening. Then she straddled his stomach and sat, grinding her center against him, spreading warmth across his abs. His eyes widened lustfully. A glistening tangle of red curls peeked out from under the hem of her borrowed t-shirt. Gently, she began to rock against him. This prize was better than any amount of money.

She bit her bottom lip and looked at him with resolve in her eyes. "Krycek."

"S-Scully?"

"In the morning I'm going to leave, get my car fixed, and fly back to Washington. If I see you again, I will arrest you. If any word of this gets out I will hunt you down and shoot you. Are we clear?"

He nodded, unable to say anything more. She was basically handing him a get out of jail free card. She bent closer and closer with each word, finally whispering in his ear. "Good. Because now I'm going to fuck you."

She swallowed his surprised gasp. God. He could taste himself, but it didn't matter because it was her mouth melting against his, her lips forcing his open, her tongue wrestling with his. His whole body jerked upwards, needing to feel her, needing to be inside her. He brought his bound hands forward, trying to pull off her shirt. They were tied together with a silk scarf. A purple silk scarf. He'd remember to thank Rachelle later. If she didn't kill him for having sex on her floor. Nah. It was more likely that she'd ask for exact details.

Scully took the hint and ripped the shirt over her head, baring her breasts. She was too fucking gorgeous. His mouth began to water at the sight of the rosy flush spreading down her chest. Mulder was such an ass for passing this up. He didn't think he'd ever wanted anyone this badly.

She raised herself, and he felt hot fingers circling his cock. Oh man, she was really going to do it. She slid down in one smooth motion, letting out a loud groan that did fantastic things for his ego. Fuck. She was tight, and hot, and her hips moved in the most amazing way. She was on all fours above him, slamming her hips against his in a punishing rhythm. He put his arms around her and pulled her down, raising his hips to meet her thrusts, wanting to feel the press of bare skin, the slide of nipples over his chest. Her teeth sunk into his neck, and with an animalistic growl he broke free of the scarf and flipped them over. Small hands grappled at his back as he plunged into her body. He'd never felt anything like this before. Not the vise-like grip that held his cock, not the welts on his skin that made him shudder in pleasure rather than pain, not the all-consuming need to hear this woman scream his name. His head felt like it was about to explode. Or was that his dick?

Pale, toned legs wrapped around his thighs, heels drumming into his ass to spur him on. He braced one hand beside her head and slid the other down her sweat slick body. He spent a moment teasing her pert nipple, admiring as her back arched off the floor toward him. His hand moved lower, running through her curls. He almost lost it as his fingers grazed his own cock moving in and out of her. Shit. She had to come, and she had to come now, because he couldn't last any longer. Not without losing his mind.

His fingers circled her clit, pressed, and circled again. He did it over and over, thanking God for two arms as Scully sobbed out her pleasure below him.

"Oh God, Krycek! Krycek . . . yessssss."

Her inner walls fluttered around him, squeezing, and he let himself fly apart at the seams, hops thrusting jerkily. He buried his face against her neck as his orgasm washed over him. It started in his balls, erupted throughout his pelvis, white hot sensation careening up his spine into his brain. Jesus. Maybe his head really had exploded. He collapsed on top of her, panting harshly against her skin. Jesus.

"Actually, it's Scully," came a breathless voice in his ear. Had he spoken out loud? God, she was going to think he was a real idiot. He raised himself just enough so that he could look at her. She smiled up at him with a dopey grin, then gave a powerful squeeze with her vaginal walls before he slipped out of her body. Her grin widened at his shocked gasp. Shocked that she was being playful, and shocked that his body was even responding to it. Scully let out a contented sigh and curled herself around him like a cat. Seconds later he was asleep.