G.E.M. Prequel

Alex's Journal

by Aries

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rated NC-17 m/m sexual situations and a few naughty words. If you're under
eighteen years of age, detest tampering with canon, or can't stand the idea
of Mulder and Krycek being completely gone on each other, I give you fair
warning. Run!

Web page: http://members.tripod.com/~ter_ma/aries/aries.htm

Summary: This is a prequel to Green Eyed Monster. Alex works with Mulder and
Scully to break the Consortium and put an end to all this *aliens taking
over the world* nonsense. He starts scribbling out a journal, originally to
record the events for Mulder in the event of his demise, but things begin to
change...

Disclaimer: They are not mine, but they will be, any time now. My dog told
me so, yesterday.

Endless thanks to Nic, Orithain and Sue, for marvelous beta and continuous
harassment. Big hugs to the lovely Pat, whose opinion I hold in the highest
regard, for continuing to be enthusiastic about my work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Green Eyed Monster Prequel

Alex's Journal

By Aries

March 8

First entry

**********

I've never kept a journal before, so I have no clue how to start this.

I guess I just did.

After weeks of trying to find reasons why I shouldn't do it, I've made the
decision to go to Mulder tomorrow. Offer him my assistance and whatever
information I have that'll help to bring this shit to an end. Things are
going to hell really fast and I no longer have the luxury of *options*.
Besides, two heads are better than one. Well...three. Can't forget Little
Red. Not that she'd ever let him.

The thought of being a team player makes my skin crawl, but this lone wolf
crap just ain't gonna get it anymore. I've gone about as far as I can go
alone. It's time for some help.

After Mulder tries to kill me, he'll probably ask if I'm out of my fucking
mind. I'm asking myself that exact same question right now. What the hell
makes me think that he's going to trust me after all the shit I've done to
him?

Oh Well. If he kills me or refuses my help...or refuses my help *then* kills
me, at least I can say that I tried. For all the fucking good it'll do the
world *then*.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 9

**********

So, here I sit. Holding an icepack over the left side of my face, writing my
second entry. Thanks, Mulder, it really is a fucking pretty shade of blue.

I can't bitch. I knew it wasn't going to go over too big when I showed up at
his door. I wish I had a camera to get a picture of the look on his face
though when he opened the door and saw me standing there. It felt ridiculous
actually standing there and knocking. As many times as I've been in his
apartment, I've never *knocked*.

Anyway, after he finally got over his shock, he grabbed me by my jacket and
flung me into the room so hard, I stumbled and slid face first on the floor
into his living room. I just about turned myself into a more dignified
position when he threw a right cross and knocked me against the couch. He
really should see someone about his violent tendencies.

Went through all the obligatory 'yes you did, no I didn't' bullshit, then he
finally asked me what the fuck I was doing there. Of course, he didn't
believe me when I told him. And I had nothing tangible to give him. Nothing
but the information I had stored in my head, which was pretty extensive. By
the end of my little speech, I thought I saw a little different look in his
eye, but that was gone as fast as it appeared.

So, after he pulled his gun on me, he asked how far I was willing to go to
prove my sincerity. I almost said something that would surely have gotten me
killed, but I held my tongue. I asked him what he had in mind, and he said
he needed to think about that a while. I'm supposed to contact him again
tomorrow. I guess there's hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 11

**********

It's late. A little after two. I've been at Mulder's for hours, being
grilled. He must've spent all his time since yesterday coming up with
questions for me. I think I must've answered them all to his satisfaction
because I'm still alive.

He looked genuinely surprised when I showed up again at his door at the
specified time. It really knocked him on his ass when I offered him my gun.
Naturally, he thought it was some kind of trick and insisted on frisking me
to be sure that I wasn't carrying another one. Of course, I had to give him
*some* shit. Told him I usually didn't let a guy touch me like that until
the third or fourth date. He wasn't amused.

Anyway, I spent hours answering question after question. Some of them, the
*same* question, phrased at least five different ways. He tried every way he
could think of to catch me in a lie. I think it pissed him off that he
couldn't seem to trip me up.

Finally, sometime before one, he decided that he wanted me to repeat
everything I'd said to him over the last two days to his partner. I can
think of things I'd rather be doing...an extended vacation in another
missile silo comes to mind, but I know that if he was ever going to trust
me, I had to play it his way. To a point, anyway. So, I agreed to talk to
Scully. I have to call him later to find out what time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 12

**********

Well, the meeting is on. I just called Mulder, and he said to come to his
apartment at seven. More later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 13

**********

Another late night.

She was already there when I arrived. Standing there with her arms crossed
against her chest, staring daggers at me. The hostility so was thick you
could cut it with a knife. Well, on *her* part, anyway. Mulder seemed a
little more relaxed than he'd been. Not much, but a little.

I walked in, handed him my gun and let him check me again. I had to smile
when he asked me if it was okay, seeing as this was now our *third* date.
Scully stood there, glaring and not saying a word. Tiny little red-headed
Medusa.

Anyway...

I didn't think it was possible to be asked the same goddamn questions in
ways which I *hadn't* heard yet, but Red managed it. When she was through,
she turned to Mulder without the slightest bit of expression and announced
that I was lying through my teeth. Like I didn't see *that* coming from
fifty miles away.

He told her that this was the second time he'd heard what I had to say, and
I hadn't deviated at all from my first version. She still didn't believe it.
He asked me if I would be willing to take a lie detector test, which I have
to say pissed me off a little, although *why*, I can't say. I agreed,
though. He said he could get his hands on the equipment, but I'd have to
contact him tomorrow. I told him that he was wasting time with all this
shit, and time wasn't something we really had no shortage of, so whatever
else he wanted to do to make sure that I was on the level, we'd better get
it all done in the next two days, or I was walking. He agreed, which ticked
Scully off, and he said that he'd get the equipment and that there was one
more person who he wanted to bring into this.

Walter Skinner has got to be right there in the bottom eight of my favorite
people list...right below Scully. But Mulder insisted, and again, I let him
have his way.

Walt Skinner.

This should *really* be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 14

**********

All we needed was some chips and dip and some beer, and it would have been a
party.

Aside from Mulder and Scully and eventually Skinner, his three buddies were
there. Geeks of the first magnitude. They brought the equipment.

I have to back up a little.

I walked in at seven-thirty. Mulder and I went through our ritual. The Ice
Princess was there, stiff as always, and hunched around the coffee table
were the three geeks. They looked at me as though I was the grim reaper or
something. I could swear that two of them were shaking. Mulder introduced
them, not that he needed to. I'd done enough surveillance on Mulder to know
more about him than his own mother...which wasn't especially hard.

As Byers was finishing the set up, the buzzer rang, and Scully let the last
party guest in. Skinner walked in and didn't stop until he was standing not
more than a foot and a half away from me. It was the last thing I remember,
until waking up on the floor with Mulder kneeling over me. He asked me if I
was all right, and when I opened my mouth to tell him that I was just
fucking peachy, my face started to throb.

Fucking son of a bitch. He hit me on the same side that Mulder had, only
with about three times the force. I'm surprised all my teeth are still in my
mouth.

I didn't need this shit. I staggered to my feet and snatched up my jacket
and was about to leave, when Mulder caught me by my upper arm. He said that
while I was out, he'd had a talk with Skinhead, and he'd agreed not to touch
me again.

I can't believe I'm going to say this, I can't believe it. Ah, what the
fuck? Nobody is going to read this but me...or Mulder, but that will only be
if I'm dead, and by then, who gives a shit? The whole time he was talking to
me, all I could focus on was the feel of his hand around my arm and his
eyes. I've heard about falling into someone's eyes, but I've always just
dismissed it as so much crap. Till tonight. Shit, those eyes are beautiful.
Mostly green with slashes of gold and blue. And I really did feel like I
could just get lost in them.

I blinked, and he wasn't looking at me any more. He was looking at Skinner.
And talking. When I finally managed to tune in to what was being said, I
heard Mulder telling the asshole that he wouldn't have him and everybody
else there if he didn't believe me and if he didn't think that this wasn't
damn serious.

Skinner came toward us and stopped just parallel to me and said something
like, if I was just jerking everybody around and wasting their valuable
time, I was going to wish I was dead. I guess I must have tensed because
Mulder's hand was around my arm again. Skinner noticed and just gave me this
sneer that made me wish I hadn't given Mulder my gun. Then he dropped into a
chair and told Mulder to get on with it.

In the meantime, Scully had come from the kitchen with an icepack. She
shoved it at me, then Mulder steered me toward a chair. I sat down and let
Byers hook me up. The first two inevitable questions were asked and I gave
my *no* answer to both. Half an hour later, Byers and the other two stood
checking the results, shaking their heads. Skinner was the first one to open
his big mouth, saying that he *knew* this was going to be a bunch of crap.
He got out of his chair, and I jumped up. He wasn't going to catch me off
guard again. Mulder and Scully jumped between us, and the little
troll...Frohike, started yelling, saying that I'd passed. Not just passed,
I'd aced the motherfucker. It was worth getting knocked out, just to see the
look on the bastard's face. Red's, too.

In light of the results, Mulder asked for a truce and wouldn't move on to
any new business until everyone in the room had agreed.

So, for the third and final fucking time, we went over all this shit. Since
I'm the one who knows names, times, dates and locations, and has the ability
to get in and out of a lot of the places that we'll need to, it was decided
that this is going to be my show. Nobody says a word, nobody makes a move
without my say so. No power plays here. It's necessary if everybody is going
to stay alive. Everybody's jobs were established, then Scully suggested we
all call it a night so everyone would be rested for tomorrow.

The geeks left, then Scully. Skinner couldn't resist threatening me one more
time before he took off. Mulder handed me my weapon back and I had to fight
back the urge to follow Skinner outside and bust a cap in that shiny head of
his. Instead, I stood at the door, talking to Mulder for a few minutes. I
told him that this was dangerous, dangerous shit we were about to get into,
and if he had any doubts at all, about himself or the others, I needed him
to say so.

He answered for himself exactly the way I knew he would and promised to talk
to the others tomorrow.

I told him that I knew what it must have taken for him to believe me and
agree to work with me; after all, I may not have killed his father, but I'd
done a whole hell of a lot of other shit to him. He told me not to worry
about it, he hadn't forgotten a thing, and left it at that.

I left and went down to my car, half expecting to see Skinner waiting for me
somewhere in the shadows, but he was gone. Probably a damn good thing for
both of us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March15

**********

It's eight a.m., and I've booked three tickets on a flight to Arizona.
There's a testing site there that they'd never find on their own, and they
need to know exactly where it is, in case something happens to me and they
need to get back to it. We leave tonight, at six-ten.

Think I'll take a break and go visit Byers. He seems like the most
level-headed of the bunch and I'm pretty sure I can trust him with the
location of this journal. Somebody's gotta know, in the likely event I wind
up buying it at some point during this thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 17

**********

Just got back in from Arizona. There's a strong rebel base there. One of the
largest, and thankfully, still a secret to those who really don't need to
know of its existence. We took every precaution to insure that we weren't
followed there by any of the hunter/killers. *Disaster* is much too mild a
word for what would happen if we had been.

We met six out of the twenty-odd 'Stevens', who worked round the clock,
monitoring the development of the other clones, and searched for a way to
destroy the things that the black oil evolved into. The vaccine did no good
once that change had taken place, and it *had*. At an alarming rate. They
had managed to capture and contain one of the fuckers and were experimenting
on it with everything they could think of, as fast as they dared. So far,
they've only come up with one promising lead and are working as fast as they
can, to improve on it.

Scully was fascinated. I mean, we *all* were, but she was dying to examine
the thing, which of course, they couldn't let her do. And of course, right
away she came to the conclusion that it was all a big hoax.

I didn't have to explain to her the dangers of getting near the thing, but
ever since that first day in Mulder's apartment, she's been looking for a
reason why I shouldn't be trusted, and this seemed as good as any.
Fortunately, Mulder was still with the program. As anxious as *he* was for
more, he understood and reminded her that we all agreed that it was my call.

We stayed just a little while longer. No time to linger. Too much for us to
do. Too much to show them. We caught a flight back to DC, and now I'm here
at home, writing this, instead of getting a good night's sleep. I have to
get to bed now though. We've got an early day. I happen to know that the
smoking bastard and his cronies will not be in their New York office
tomorrow, and I just happen to know a way into the building...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 18

**********

We're back. *We*, being Mulder and me. There was no need for Scully to be
along on this, and it was easier if I didn't have to watch out for two of
them.

We caught an early flight to New York and wasted no time. I showed Mulder an
easy way to get into the building. I mean, there's no *easy* way, but every
fortress has weak spots. Areas that are more easily breached than others.

We made it into the elders' inner sanctum, and just as I said, there wasn't
a soul around. You're too confident, boys. You ought to do like Congress
does, and leave one at home to mind the store, just in case.

We searched the office, even though I was pretty sure that it'd be a waste
of time. They'd be very sure not to leave anything incriminating hanging
around. No, I *knew* where the jackpot would be. The door at the other end
of the room.

I've seen them come in and out of that room, but I've never been invited
inside. And everyone always looks so suspicious when they come out of there.

That's the joint. That's where we wanted to be.

I'd done a peripheral survey of the place on my many *legitimate* visits and
more in-depth investigating on the occasions when I've snuck in, and we
brought along with us the proper equipment to gain entrance.

Mulder was nervous, asking me at least half a dozen times if I was insane,
wanting to do this in the *morning*. But I knew this was the best time.
They'd never think that anyone would have the balls to try to walk in here
in broad daylight. I think I should be insulted. Anyway, we disarmed the
first two alarms without too much fuss, but the third gave us a bit more
trouble. By the time we finally cut it, we were both drenched in sweat. I
can think of much better reasons to be drenched in sweat, believe me.

Okay Alex, knock it off.

So, we made it in, disabled the cameras, and got down to business. It was
like the equivalent of Disneyland for Mulder. He was a bit nervous about
getting in, but once there, it was obvious that I was going to have to drag
him out.

We photographed, copied, and just plain *stole* everything we could get our
hands on, then left. I was nervous that we'd stayed too long, and my
instincts were right. We had to do some serious maneuvering to get
ourselves, the equipment, and our newly acquired information out of there
and past the new shift of rested and alert guards. I didn't breathe easy
until we were on a plane and heading back to DC.

Mulder was pumped. He dragged me off the plane and right over to the LGM. He
called Scully on the way, and she met us there. While Langly and Frohike
started developing the film, the rest of us began to go through the tapes
and floppies. We worked until we couldn't see straight, then called it a
night. Morning, actually. It's three twenty-eight right now, and I've got to
get my ass to bed and try to get at least six good hours before we go back
to work again. This is going to be a long, pain-in-the-ass project; I can
see it already. But if it proves to be the means to an end, I guess it'll be
worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 20

**********

God, I feel like shit.

I'm tired, as is everybody else, but no one's complaining. Langly and
Frohike finally got the seventeen rolls of film all developed. Looks like
there could be a lot of useful information there.

We've got quite a few addresses. A good number of them are in Europe, so it
looks like at least one of us is going to be doing a little traveling. I
recognize a lot of the pictures. Places I've been. Horrors I've seen. Faces
of men who've got no business breathing. Lots of them now dead, for one
reason or another. The worst of them remain. Figures.

Look at me. Who the hell am I to pass judgment on *anyone*? I'm no cleaner
than they are. If they're not fit to live, neither am I. That should all be
resolved soon though anyway. I don't expect to make it through this. Not
after they start to figure it out. My life won't be worth two cents. I just
need enough time to get Mulder through the toughest parts. After he's got
them in a position that they can't slither, torch or kill their way out of,
he'll be safe. I just need to stay alive at least that long, to cover that
pretty ass of his.

Forget his ass, Krycek. It ain't yours. Never was, never will be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 21

**********

According to some of the very recent intelligence that we'd stolen, a
possible new pocket of resistance had cropped up in North Carolina. If
*they* know about it, it'll only be a matter of time before the h/k's do,
too. We're on our way there tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 23

**********

We found the facility and had no trouble getting in. Apparently, every clone
and his brother knows who Mulder is.

We issued the warning but found that they already knew that their time was
limited. All vital information had already been dispersed to the other
sites, and they were preparing to move out themselves.

But, goddamn it all, just as we were leaving, the shit hit the fan. Mulder
and I just about got out of there when the h/k came through. I had all I
could do to keep him from going back in. Even with all the blasting and
fire, he wouldn't give up on the thought that maybe he could save *one* of
them. I had to literally wrap my arms around him to hold him back. He would
have gotten himself killed, the damn idiot. When he finally realized that it
was too late, he let me take him away from the scene.

He was quiet on the flight back. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking. I
started to, at least half a dozen times, but I was afraid to know. I know a
lot about his life, his job...stuff like that, but I can't claim to know
*him*. But there was something about his expression...his eyes, that said so
many things.

Coward. Heartless, self-serving Krycek wouldn't even *try* to save them.
Cold blooded prick...

I could be wrong. Maybe that isn't what he was thinking at all. I don't
know. I guess I'll never know. And *he'll* never know that it was *him*.
*His* safety that was my first priority. For more reasons than he'd ever
understand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 24

**********

Byers recognized one of the men in the pictures we took as a Doctor Manheim.
Genetics was his bag. Apparently he was in the middle of some pretty heavy
work when he disappeared one day back in the mid-seventies. Right off a ski
slope in New Hampshire, never to be found again. Till now. That picture is a
recent one. Wonder if his wife and daughter know?

There were two addresses in with the picture. One here in the
States...Vermont, and the other is in Austria. In the interest of saving
time, I'm going to Austria alone, while Mulder and Scully check out that
Vermont address. We leave tomorrow morning.

Mulder is a little bit colder than he has been. Not that he's been Mr.
Warmth, but he's been a hell of a lot more civil to me than I thought he
would be. I hope he gets over what happened yesterday soon. It doesn't help
working conditions in the slightest, and he needs all his attention
concentrated on the job.

Who the fuck am I kidding?

It's not the job. Well, yeah, it is the job, but that's not all. It
*bothers* me, okay? There, I said, it. His distance bothers me. He's talked
to me, he *has* to, but he hasn't looked at me. Maybe it's better if he
doesn't. That whole getting lost in his eyes thing is *not* good. I wish I
hadn't written it, but damn, now that I have, there's no sense in taking it
back. It'd be a lie if I did.

Now, *why* would I care about *that*? Shit, I don't know. I'm getting a
major headache. Time for bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 30

**********

Shit, shit, shit. They're on to us.

Three days searching. I found him. Another day of *gentle* persuasion. I
*had* him. He was set to come back with me. I'd gotten it out of him that he
was approached over twenty years ago about his research by a group of men
who asked that he work for them. When he refused, the lives of his wife,
daughter and anyone else even remotely related to him were threatened. As
proof of the group's determination, his sister's husband was made an example
of. He still refused, not wanting to believe the extent of their power. The
next day, a first cousin who was as close as any brother was killed in a car
crash. He'd been convinced. It was arranged that he would disappear without
a trace and his wife and daughter would be well cared for, for the rest of
their lives. He was not exactly willing to put them at risk by resurfacing.
I could understand that. He must have loved them dearly to have stayed away
from them for all those years. You sacrifice a lot for those you love. Or so
I hear.

Anyway, I managed to make him understand that there was a hell of a lot more
at stake here, and if he *didn't* come back with me, his family would suffer
a much worse fate. We all would.

I made the fucking stupid mistake of leaving him alone. There were no phones
around at the house where he was staying, and I *had* to check on the plane
reservations and call Mulder. By the time I got back, the whole fucking
place was in flames. I got out of there as fast as I could and lay low until
my flight. All the way home, I kept expecting the plane to blow up. When it
didn't, I began to wonder if they might not have a more painful, drawn out
death in store for me. I wouldn't be a bit surprised

I made it back and tracked Mulder and Scully down. I hadn't gotten the
chance to contact them again, so they had no idea that the doctor was *not*
with me. Mulder's expression betrayed little or no emotion when he'd heard
the news and I can't help but wonder what it was he was thinking. Maybe he
thought I should have run into the burning house in case the doc was still
alive.

Forget it, Alex. Don't go there.

Mulder and Scully found the daughter. The wife had died a few years earlier.
Nothing suspicious, the woman had heart trouble for a few years and just had
a coronary and keeled over one day.

He said that the daughter was shocked that someone was actually poking
around, asking questions about her father's disappearance, some twenty-odd
years later. The case had been closed ages ago.

Not wanting to raise the woman's hopes, they just made up an excuse about
doing some research on unsolved cases and asked if there was anything left
of her father's personal effects. She explained that everything had been
lost in a fire at their family home not long after the doctor's
disappearance.

What a surprise.

We spent the rest of the day examining more documents and updating lists.
Around five-thirty, Mulder received a call from Skinner. He was calling from
an undisclosed location and informed Mulder that he was sure that he was
being surveilled. He had to be very careful about when and where he
contacted us.

Well, that was fine with me. I don't know why the hell we needed him in this
in the first place. The less we heard from him, the better, as far as I was
concerned. Of course, maybe I shouldn't have said that out loud. His friends
didn't appreciate it too much, Scully more so, and Mulder most of all.

Mulder spent most of the afternoon ignoring me. Now I'm *sure* he thinks
that I must have screwed up somehow...or I'm jerking them around. I'm not
sure which.

Fine. Whatever. Let him believe what he wants. I don't give a shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 2

**********

I can't believe this. That chain smoking bastard contacted me today, wanting
to deal.

Deal? Is he out of his fucking mind? What the hell deal is there to make? We
either fight or become slaves. I see absolutely no room for dickering there.

I told him to go fuck himself. He got pissed and told me that he was going
to kill me in the slowest and most horribly painful way possible. Okay
smokey, tell me something I *don't* know. But to kill me, he's going to have
to catch me. And I can't let him do that yet. Not while Mulder is still in
danger. Maybe with a little luck, I'll get him before he gets *me*.

I told them about the call when we got together earlier. We have to move
faster. Those bastards are going to be doing whatever they have to do, to
make sure that they can't be connected with any of this shit, and that means
burial of a whole bunch of evidence. There are a whole lot more of them than
there are of us, so we're going to have to pick our battles carefully.

I have to do a little backtracking first.

When we left the LGM tonight, I stopped Mulder and asked him to talk. Yeah,
I know what I said about not giving a shit what he thought.

I asked him what the hell his problem was, and he just sort of stood there
for a while, looking down at the ground. Then finally, he said that it had
occurred to him that I could be screwing them all over. Showing them things
they wanted to see, pulling an elaborate smoke and mirrors thing, while my
*bosses* continued to run their game, unimpeded. And it would all be his
fault. He'd believed me and convinced Scully and the others to do the same.

I looked at him standing there, eyes still lowered to the ground, and my
heart sank to my feet. I would have felt better if he had just slugged me.
That I could handle, but this? I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how
to prove to him that I really was working with and not against him. So, I
just threw caution to the wind and asked him.

Okay, he said that the thought had *occurred* to him. But did he really,
deeply, in his heart, believe that I was lying to him? He said no, but
that's what made it worse. His heart had gotten him into big trouble plenty
of times before.

Well, I couldn't argue that. All I could do was swear to him that I was on
the level and corny as it sounded, the fate of the world hinged on whether
or not we could stop this mess. I asked him to go home and give it a lot of
thought. I needed his trust. If he doubted me, if he questioned my motives
at every turn, this would *not* work. I told him that I knew that was a hell
of a lot to ask, given our history, but nevertheless, I *was* asking. He
agreed to think about it, then he left.

I stood there, leaning against my car for the longest time, and then
suddenly the strongest feeling washed over me. It was a bad, bad feeling. I
jumped in my car and headed toward Mulder's. I pulled up to his apartment
building and looked up at his dark window. I looked up and down the street.
It was quiet, but for some reason, the silence didn't hit me right. I drew
my gun and checked out the outside of the building, but found nothing out of
the ordinary. I went inside, and it was as quiet as it was outside. I
thought I heard a door swish closed, and the bad feeling got worse. I ran up
to the fourth floor and found that his door was ajar. I nudged the door open
and slipped inside. There was someone else there, I could smell him. It took
a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dark, and then I saw him.
Pointing his weapon. I dropped him before he could get off a round, and
Mulder jumped up from the couch.

I flipped the wall switch and found him standing there, dazed and shocked,
looking down at the dead man. I came into the room, asking him if he was all
right, and all he could do was give me this wide-eyed stare. I sat him down
and got him a glass of water. I made him promise to stay put while I got rid
of the body.

I'd remembered to put the silencer on my weapon, so chances were great that
no one heard the shot. I found a blanket, wrapped the body, and took it out
to my car. Fortunately, the guy wasn't especially big, and I didn't have
much of a problem lifting him. Once the body was in my trunk, I went back up
to Mulder, who was still sitting on his couch. He was more composed now and
started asking questions as soon as I came back through the door.

He wanted to know, first of all, who that man was, and secondly, how *I*
knew he was there. I had to tell him that it was just a feeling. I mean,
what else *could* I say? It was the truth. He just sort of looked at me with
this unreadable expression on his face and said nothing.

I recognized the asshole who tried to kill him as a lackey for the
Consortium, though I didn't know his name. He asked me what I was going to
do with the body. I just told him not to worry about it, that it would be
taken care of. I cleaned up all traces of blood from the floor, asked him
again if he was okay, then called Scully, told her what happened, and
suggested that she watch her back. She insisted on coming over, so I waited
with Mulder until she got there.

We sat in virtual silence until Scully showed up at the door. As I was
leaving, Mulder looked up and said thanks. I didn't know how to respond, so
I just nodded, then left.

I properly disposed of the body, and now I'm back home.

They tried once, they'll try again.

Maybe it'd be better if Scully stayed with him, to watch him when I can't.
Not that he'd appreciate having *anyone* for a babysitter, but he'd be much
more comfortable with his partner, I'm sure.

He thanked me. Does that mean he believes me? Does it, Mulder? I don't know.
I'm just glad I was there. I didn't have time to be scared when I first came
in and found that guy standing over you. I just did what I had to do, but
after it was over, my whole body had started to shake. I don't know if you
noticed. I don't think so; you were too dazed to realize.

If I had been just ten seconds later, you'd be dead. Jesus, just writing
that makes my hand shake. So much would be lost if you'd died. It's
inconceivable. I can't let it happen. I *will not* let it happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 3

**********

Names, names and more names. I saw your face. Watched your expression as we
read together the names of the people involved in this shit. People in the
highest branches of government. Our own, and other countries'. The damage
that bringing this out in the open could do is staggering. We all agree that
the quieter it's done, the better. Of course, how does the government
explain a shakeup of this magnitude to the nation without raising a whole
shitload of suspicion? Well, it beats the alternative. They'll find a way to
get around it. I have no doubt. Besides, we've got enough of our own
problems to worry about.

Against my better judgment, I'm going to the Ukraine, alone. According to
the latest data we've received, there's a massive effort going on there to
alter the vaccine to introduce it to the general public without its
knowledge. It won't help with those that have already evolved, but at least
it'll stop others from being infected in the first place. I have to get
there and gather all the information that I can before the operation is
taken out. Hopefully I'll be in time. I leave soon. You should be here in
about half an hour to pick me up.

There is another facility that I had no idea about. Right in our own
backyard. It wasn't in any of the documents that we'd stolen, so I'm hoping
that smokey and the boys don't know about it, either. We were contacted this
morning and were asked for a meeting. We agreed that we'd go together, once
I got back. I hope to return in just a couple of days. I've already told you
that if I'm not back by the sixth, presume that I've been killed and
continue without me.

Now, I didn't say that for shock effect. I expected no reaction, but I think
I got one anyway. I saw your eyes. I saw the tiniest change in your
expression, and I couldn't help but be filled with hope. Hope for what, I
don't know. A friendship that has no time to develop and grow? Grow into
what? I'm dreaming, Mulder. I'm fucking dreaming. And rambling. If you ever
read this, just chalk it up to a dead man's insanity, and burn this journal.
Save the world, and then forget about me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 6

**********

Son of a bitch!

You *had* to do it, didn't you? You *had* to go without me! The *sixth*,
Mulder, I said the *sixth*! You went yesterday, which was the fucking
*fifth*! What the hell were you thinking? God, I could strangle you.

You know, I had this bad feeling all the way home, just like the one I had
the night that I caught that guy in your apartment. I couldn't wait to get
off the goddamn plane and find you. I'd breathe easier when I saw you.

I walk into your office, and what the fuck do I find? Scully. Just Scully.
When she told me that the two of you had gone to the facility and that you'd
encountered one of the h/k's *and* that you'd been hurt and were in the
hospital, I felt all the life drain out of me. I knew it. I *knew* I should
have taken you with me. Shit! Okay, so she said that it was only a
concussion and that you'd be fine, but it could have been so much worse,
Fox. What the fuck ever possessed you to try to take one of those things
down? You *know* what they're all about. Yeah, yeah, your partner was in
danger, and you had to save her. Well, she wouldn't have *been* in danger if
she'd just kept you *away* from the bloody place!

I *told* you to wait for me, didn't I? *Didn't* I say, "Mulder, stay away
from the facility. We'll check it out together when I get back." My exact.
Fucking. Words. But did you listen to me? Now I can see why Scully is pissed
with you so much of the time.

Back to Scully.

I'd like to wring her little neck, but I guess I can't. Short of shooting
you in both legs, I suppose there would have been no way for her to stop
you. That's why I shouldn't leave your side. You can just swat Scully to the
side, the little red-headed gnat, but *I* can't be so easily moved. And I
*won't* be. Not if I think your safety is going to be compromised. If there
are any outrageous chances to be taken around here, *I'll* take them. I'm
expendable. *You*, Fox, are not.

I wanted to go to the hospital today...as soon as Scully told me what had
happened, but I thought better of it. It would just seem a little...I don't
know...*odd*, I guess. Besides, I needed time to calm my nerves. Please,
don't get me wrong. If Scully had told me that you were badly injured,
there'd be no way in hell that I'd stay away, but since you're fine, I'll
wait till tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll just hang out here, pacing a hole
in my floor. You're not alone, Scully is there with you, and since you're
temporarily incapacitated, I guess it's safe enough leaving her to watch
you, for tonight. But it still doesn't mean that I won't worry.

On a brighter note, I found the facility, said the magic password (Fox
Mulder seems to be the equivalent of *open sesame*), and bang, I was in.
They've gotten farther with their research than intelligence would suggest.
The plan is to introduce the vaccine to all water and food sources. Whether
ingested or absorbed, it will have the same affect. It's been tested and
retested, and the results are the same. Complete and total protection
against the virus. Thank God.

You were actually going to be contacted in a few days, but I guess my
arrival saved us some time. At great risk to themselves, the resistance is
going to stage a massive campaign, positioning themselves at the most
strategic points around the world. At a time soon to be determined, they're
going to release the vaccine. We need to cover them. Provide some sort of
distraction. I think I've got an idea, but I want to run it by you first. It
involves Skinner. Yes, he may finally be able to make himself useful.

They're already watching him closely. Well, what if he suddenly took off one
day? Booked a flight to *somewhere*, then disappeared? They'd think
something was up.

I know. Why would a massive organization come to a grinding halt to tail one
man? Maybe it won't. But maybe we don't need it to. *Maybe*, they'd be
thrown off kilter just long enough for the resistance to release the
vaccine.

Not much of a plan, I know. But it's all I've got at the moment. I'm
exhausted and my nerves are shot...thanks, Mulder. If you're able to come up
with a better idea, I'll be thrilled to hear it when I see you tomorrow.

Well, I'd better try to get some sleep, now. The faster I pass out, the
faster morning will come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 7

**********

Morning.

God, that was the fucking longest night of my life.

I'm off to the hospital in a few minutes. There were no phone calls during
the night, so I expect to find you alive and well when I get there.

**********

It's eleven forty-nine, now.

When I got to the hospital, I found Scully and Frohike there. Skinner walked
in just minutes later. I didn't appreciate the fact that he'd come, but one
of his agents was injured. There was no big deal about him going to the
hospital to see him, I guess.

You were fighting with Scully and the doctor, and being completely
obnoxious. The room went quiet when I walked in. You turned those eyes up to
me and I could feel myself turning to liquid.

Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?

You looked up at me, and I could swear I saw a trace of a smile. I sloshed
over to the bed and tried like hell to give off some attitude, but it just
wasn't happening. I played it through anyway, yelling at you about what
happened, and I asked you why the hell you went to the facility when I
specifically asked you to *wait* until the sixth.

You got itchy. That was my answer.

Well, how do I respond to *that*?

I wanted to choke you. I wanted to slap you silly; I wanted to punch you
dead in the mouth and double the size of those lips, those goddamn,
infuriatingly luscious lips. Then I wanted to kiss you and not stop until I
felt you kissing me back and you understood.

I wish you could understand, Fox.

Fuck, I wish *I* understood. Because I *don't*. I don't know. I don't know
where all these feelings are coming from. I've always been attracted to you,
I won't deny it. But this fear, this bone-rattling fear that something will
happen to you, it's not...and I can try from now till hell freezes over, and
I won't be able to reason it away...it's not just in the interest of world
preservation or even *self* preservation, it goes much deeper than that.

There was a day...one day last week, when we were all at your apartment. I
don't remember now what I'd said, but it struck you funny, and you laughed.
A flat-out laugh. Your eyes crinkled at the corners, and the full, rich
sound of your laughter filled the room. It didn't last, it wasn't any big
deal. Nothing terribly significant I guess, but it meant the world to me.

And now, this little *moment* today. You know, I suddenly find myself
*wanting* to get through this alive...which is pointless, because even if I
*did* make it through in one piece, then what? You go your way, I go mine?
But it would shock you to know, Fox, that your way *is* my way.

Jesus Christ, this journal was a fucking bad idea. It's so easy. Much too
easy to write these things down. I should just stop. Stop writing right now
and destroy the damn thing. But what good would that do? The feelings are
out there. I've released them forever, and they can't ever be taken back.
Even if you never know...they're out there. And they're for you.

You'd probably shoot me where I stand if you knew this stuff. I guess it's a
good thing that I'm dead, as you're reading this. I'd rather look into the
face of death and recognize it as an enemy, someone I hate, than see you.
Then I can die, holding onto the foolish notion that there may have been a
slim chance.

Where the hell was I? Oh yeah. Scully decided to play attack dog, since it
looked like you had no intentions of defending yourself. Just as she started
to let me have it, Skinhead walked in, and it immediately became two against
one. Their jaws dropped to the floor, as did mine, when you came to my
defense. You told them that we'd made an agreement, and *you* went back on
it. You said that you deserved the reprimand and then turned to me and
promised that you'd be more cooperative in the future.

I had to sit down before I *fell* down. When I'd finally gotten over the
shock, I told you about what I'd found in the Ukraine and my idea, lame as
it was.

Skinner was ready to jump all over me, but again you came to my rescue,
saying that it wasn't such a bad idea. All we needed was a *little*
breathing space, and Skinner's sudden *trip* may afford us that.

After a bit of arguing, it was decided. As soon as word came down, Skinner
would be off.

I think what pissed him off more than anything was that it was *my* idea,
and you went along with it. It didn't thrill Scully a whole lot either. She
kept asking you if you were sure and if you realized what it was you were
saying; after all, you *did* suffer a concussion.

God, that ticked me off. I wanted to slap that condescending tone right out
of her. Why do you let her talk to you like that? Never mind.

You're asleep right now, in your bedroom. I'm out here on the couch. The
doctor agreed to release you if someone stayed with you for at least one
night. No problem there, I had no intention of leaving you alone, anyway.

This also didn't go over too big with the gang. I understand that they're
trying to protect you, but what they don't understand is I want the same
thing. Scully is a very capable agent, I can't take that away from her, but
she's not a killer. I am. A second's hesitation is all it would take for
disaster to strike. I'm not willing to take that chance. Not with you.

You agreed that I should stay with you, and that really stuck in her craw.
You tried to explain to her that you didn't want her in any more danger than
was necessary, but it didn't exactly sit well with her.

She finally left at about nine o'clock and promised you that she'd call the
minute she got home. She did, and the two of you were on the phone for at
least fifteen minutes. You kept your replies as brief as possible, but I
know you were arguing about me. You hung up and sent another of those
*almost* smiles my way and asked if I wanted anything to eat or drink. I
refused and recommended that you turn in and get some rest. You gave in
without an argument, so I assume that you must have been pretty tired.

And now I sit here, alone in your living room, with the flicker of the t.v.
for company, and writing in this stupid journal.

I just stopped a second ago, to check in on you. You were out. Good. You
could use the sleep.

I stood there for a few seconds, looking at you. The light from the hall
lent just enough visibility for me to make out your face. Jesus, Fox, even
in sleep you're not completely at rest. I could see your eyes going a mile a
minute under your lids. Your body jumped once, and I thought you may have
been having a nightmare. I almost woke you, but number one, you settled back
down, and number two, what the hell would I have done with the awkward
moment after you opened your eyes and I explained why I woke you, and what I
was doing in your bedroom in the first place? Instead, I waited a few more
seconds, then left the room.

I wonder if that's how you always sleep. And I can't help wondering if
having someone beside you to hold and comfort you would keep whatever demons
torment you away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 9

**********

The time is set. Skinner leaves *suddenly*, later today. No warning to the
Director, no word of any kind to anyone. That ought to make them sit up and
take notice. All we can do right now is sit and wait for word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 11

**********

Goddamn, it went like clockwork.

Mission accomplished.

Skinner is back without a scratch on him.

Damn the bad luck.

Sorry, Fox, that wasn't nice. I know he's a friend.

That was almost too easy. Unfortunately, large numbers were lost, but from
what we understand, each group completed its mission before they were taken
out. The old guys slipped. They fell asleep at the switch for two seconds
and are now finding that they aren't untouchable. Unfortunately, Fox, we
aren't at the point yet where we can safely say that they're broken. If
anything, desperation will make them more dangerous. We have to find a way
to take the aliens down. Back to Arizona, we go. The best hope still seems
to lie there with the 'Stevens'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 13

**********

Big doings.

Our friends in Arizona have now got backup. Since the vaccine has been
successfully released, they are better able to concentrate their efforts in
one area. There's more security at the facility now, and the research teams
have been doubled. They feel they're close. They just need a little more
time.

We didn't have an opportunity the last time we were there, so yesterday,
they took us on a tour of the facility. It's huge. So huge it's amazing that
they've been able to keep it secret.

There were other clones there, besides the Stevens. We'd met about fifteen
Marcys and, passing through on our way out, came across two young ones,
walking through the hall. Scully's knees went out from under her. Good
catch, Fox.

We were taken to a small room where you laid her down on a sofa and sat
rubbing her hand. I wanted to ask, but you were so intensely concentrated on
your partner I didn't think you'd even hear me.

She finally came around, and after asking her if she was all right, you said
you'd get someone to explain it to her and left the two of us alone. She was
trying so hard to keep herself together, but I could see her slowly coming
unglued. I got up and squatted in front of her and asked what was wrong. She
looked up at me, and the tears started to flow.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't think the Ice Princess *ever* fell apart.
I sat beside her and put an arm around her, and she practically fell against
me, crying like a baby. I asked her again what was wrong, and she managed to
tell me about Emily. The two we'd seen in the hall were obviously her,
or...more of her...whatever.

I felt terrible for her. She was so upset. I can't imagine what it must be
like to lose a child. And even under the unnatural circumstances in which
she came into the world, it couldn't have been any easier to let her go.

Yesterday, I found new respect for Scully.

I sat holding her, letting her cry it all out, and when she was done, she
pulled away and dried her eyes. Two minutes later, you came in with one of
the Stevens, and he explained the presence of the two that we had seen. They
were rescued from a lab in Stockholm, the only two survivors of the
experiments that were being performed there. They weren't direct hybrids,
but clones from the original Emily. Scully's Emily. They were safe at the
facility, and it was agreed that there is where they would remain.

Since yesterday, Scully and I seem to have formed an unspoken truce. I think
she finally realizes that I'm not exactly who she thought I was. And she
sure isn't who *I* thought.

This is good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 14

*********

And this is bad.

Well, it could have been worse.

Fortunately, I'm in the habit of checking my car out *before* I start it.
You know, just in case any bombs wander up under there. Well, it paid off,
today. I would have been confetti if I'd just jumped in and started it up.

I called you and Scully and warned you both not to get into your own
vehicles until they'd been checked out. The LGM and Skinner were informed
too. None of you found anything, so I guess it was just me they were after,
today. Gee, I feel so special.

I disconnected the device and got myself over to your office. Scully seemed
genuinely concerned when she asked if I was okay, and it actually felt good
to know that someone was worried about me. I looked over at you and saw the
concern in your eyes too, even though you said nothing. There was no need, I
guess. Scully had already spoken for the both of you.

I asked you if you felt well enough to be at work, and you of course, said
that you were fine, although your eyes did still look a bit glassy to me. I
looked to Scully for confirmation and she threw her hands up, saying that
you were an impossible pain in the ass who did exactly what you wanted to
do, no matter how stupid she told you it was.

I studied you for a few seconds, then snatched your jacket off of the hook
and threw it at you. You gave me this "excuse me?" look and I told you that
I was taking you home. We did the "no I'm not, yes you are" thing for a
couple of seconds, then I got pissed. I walked up to you and looked you
square in the eye and said, "Yes. You. Are."

Some nerve, huh?

I think even Scully got a little nervous. She probably thought that we were
going to come to blows. But you looked at me for a while and then brushed
past me and walked out the door.

Scully gave me a smug little grin and said that we'd better follow you. She
obviously thought that you were taking off to go about your business. She
almost dropped when we caught up to you and found you sitting in your car on
the passenger's side.

I wish I'd had a video camera to get a shot of Scully's face, and then you
while you sat there pouting. You looked up at me, then snapped your fingers
impatiently, mumbling something like, "If you want me to go home, you're
going to drive."

Damn, that pout. Jesus, Fox, you're so beautiful.

Something just occurred to me. When the hell did I start calling you Fox?
Hey, and when did I start addressing you directly? Damn. I mean, yeah, this
journal was for you, but now it seems as if it's for...*you*. Does that make
*any* sense? Shit, it seems like every time I start to get personal, I start
making less sense. You really fuck me up, you know that, Mulder?

Mulder.

Tried it, doesn't sound right anymore, going back to Fox.

Okay, Fox. So I drove you home, and Scully followed. You gave me the silent
treatment all the way to your apartment, which was fine. I really didn't
think you were in any shape to be arguing anyway.

We got back to your place, and you dropped down on the couch and closed your
eyes. Scully asked if you had a headache, and you nodded. She went to get
you some aspirin, and I sat in the chair opposite the couch, watching you.
You must have felt my eyes on you because you opened your eyes and turned
your head in my direction. Scully came out of the bathroom before you could
say anything to me, and I don't know if that was good or bad. You took the
aspirin, then settled back and closed your eyes again. I felt a tap on my
shoulder, and Scully waved me into the kitchen. Once we were in there, she
told me that she didn't know what it was I did or *how*, but she was glad
for it. You needed another day, maybe two, of rest, and she didn't know how
she was going to get you to take it. I shrugged and chalked it up to dumb
luck.

By the time we got back out to the living room, you were asleep. Scully
called the LGM to ask if they were done cleaning up the old audio tapes that
we'd brought them. When she got no answer, she started to become concerned.
At least one of them should have been there at that time of day. I didn't
want to leave you, but I volunteered to go check on them, knowing that you'd
never forgive me if she'd walked into a bad situation and something happened
to her. She surprised me by insisting that it was more important that I stay
and watch you. She promised to be extra careful and to call as soon as she
got there.

I sat watching t.v., glancing from time to time at you, as your body
flinched and you made these tiny little agitated sounds. I wanted to get up
out of my chair. Go to you. Lay my hand on your arm. Maybe your head.
Whisper to you that everything was okay. I read once where people could hear
what was being said to them in their sleep.

Before I could do something I'd probably not live to regret, you woke up.
You blinked up at the ceiling for a few seconds before looking around the
room. Our eyes met again, only this time, Scully wasn't there to interrupt.
Seemed like hours had gone by before you spoke. In reality, I'm sure it had
only been a few seconds, but it didn't seem that way. Not for me, anyway.
You asked me where Scully was. Your voice was soft and scratchy from sleep,
and it sent a tingle right down through the middle of me. It took me a while
to trust my voice enough to tell you.

Before you could respond, the phone rang. It was Scully. I could see what
little color you had drain out of your face, then you asked her about the
guys. You nodded a lot, like she could really see you, and the last thing
you said before you hung up was, "I'll be right there."

The phone rang almost immediately again, as I was asking you what had
happened. You said that someone had attempted to torch the LGM's place with
them right there, inside. You got up, ignoring the phone and started to
prepare to leave. I had a feeling that ringing phone that you were ignoring
was Scully, so I took a chance and answered it.

Sure enough. She told me first of all to stop you. There was no need for you
to go down there. When I had you settled, I should call her back. I slammed
the phone down and stopped you at the door.

You're one stubborn son of a bitch, you know that, Fox? Fortunately, the
concussion put you in a bit of a weakened state, and I was able to subdue
you and get you back over to the couch. To make sure you stayed there while
I made the call, I sat down at the edge, sort of pinning you in. While you
cursed me and my whole family, I called Scully back. Turns out that yes,
someone *did* try to torch the place but was largely unsuccessful. The guys,
being every bit as paranoid as you are, have detection devices *everywhere*,
and the fire department got there very quickly. The damage was minimal, and
the worst of it is, the place'll smell like smoke for a few weeks. I've been
there. It'll be an improvement.

What really shocks the shit out of me is the increasing failure rate that
the old guys are experiencing. Who the hell have they got pulling these jobs
for them, anyway? Gee, they must miss me...

Anyway, Scully made me promise to keep you there and said she'd be back
later. I told her not to worry, that I'd cuff you and sit on you if I had
to, to keep you in one place. I could see you glaring at me out of the
corner of my eye.

When I hung up, you were still staring daggers at me. I suggested you take
off your coat since you weren't going anywhere, and you yanked it off and
threw it at me.

It's okay, Fox. I understand how frustrated you must have been. An attempt
was made on your friends' lives because they were willing to help you, and
you felt the least you could have done was be there.

You said very little to me the rest of the day, even after Scully and your
friends showed up later. I'd catch you looking at me quite often, but every
time that happened, you'd turn your head and say nothing. What's up with
that, Fox?

Well, the whole day passed without a peep from the people we've been waiting
to hear from. Maybe tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 16

**********

I didn't have time to write yesterday. Too much going on. Word came down,
finally. *Steven* contacted us and let us know that they'd done it. They'd
found the way to take the alien bastards out.

This is it, Fox. We've got the goods; we've got a way to fight back; and
there's no way they can touch us now. They're done.

We spent all day and night putting our plan into action, and all those sons
of bitches who were involved with this are scrambling to cover their asses.
Let em scramble. It's too late for them. It looks like the aliens are
abandoning their plans for colonization, and their plausible deniability has
gone up in flames, so to speak. With the aliens packing their shit up,
they'll have no one to deal with the hybrids and clones. No way to dispose
of the proof, no way to hide the truth. It's just about over.

And I guess, so are we. There'll be no need for us to see each other again
when this is done, and the sense of loss that just swept over me is numbing.
I never meant for this to happen, Fox. I never meant for my feelings to get
this deep. I don't know what to do. Maybe it would have been better if
they'd killed me.

No. Stupid way to think, Krycek. You're a survivor. You've gotten through a
lot a bad shit over the years. This'll be a cakewalk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 18

**********

I'm dreaming. I've *got* to be fucking dreaming.

I walked into your office yesterday to tell you that it was over. Ran into
Scully in the hall, and she told me that you'd been officially informed
about your sister. I really was sorry to hear that she was gone. I was
surprised at your...I want to say indifference, but that's too strong a
word. Resignation, I guess.

It was so good to hear that most of those bastards had been rounded up. It
was just as good to hear that a lot of them had killed themselves. And CM!
That was the best news of all. I hated that son of a bitch more than I ever
thought I could hate anyone. He did the world a huge favor.

Then you thanked me and told me I was free to go. The look on your face. In
your eyes, when you told me...I didn't know how to read it. But the words
couldn't be misinterpreted. I could go. As in goodbye. See ya later. So I
headed for the door, not knowing what else to do. And you stopped me. I
tried so hard, Fox. I really tried not to get my hopes up. I mean, it was
crazy. We were barely even friends.

You complimented me on a job well done, then clammed up again. It was
fucking torture. I couldn't stand it anymore. I told you to have a good
life, and I opened the door. You stopped me again, and I could feel my heart
pounding in my ears. When you asked me out for a beer, I had to stop myself
from falling against the door. It seemed to me now as though you were
stalling me, and all kinds of outrageous reasons why you might do that ran
through my head.

I accepted your invitation, and we went out.

The bar was crowded. Noisy. Stunk like cigarette smoke and stale beer. No
place for a well-dressed FBI agent. But somehow, you managed to look right
at home. You threw your coat off and slouched down into the booth, resting
your head back against the cushion. I watched your eyes slip shut and
realized how tired you must have been. That crack on the head combined with
too-long hours and all the excitement really had taken a lot out of you. I
told you that you really should be home resting, but you insisted that you
were fine.

You opened your eyes and looked over at me. I could feel a sweat break out
over my top lip, but I couldn't turn away. You stared at me, your eyes
looking for answers to questions you hadn't yet asked, and I tried not to
let you see too much. I shook off the fog that I'd been lingering in and
focused on your moving lips. You asked me what I was going to do now that it
was over. I gave you no definitive answer because I had none. I could have
told you what I *wanted* to do, but I didn't think that would have gone over
too big.

The waitress came over, and you ordered two beers, then turned your
attention right back on me. I wondered if you always stared at people so
intently. It was sort of unnerving. Then out of the blue, you asked me if I
had any family. Someone to go home to. And I felt this huge lump form in my
throat. I gave you the only answer I could, and forced my eyes away, trying
my best to look nonchalant as I glanced around the bar. To my relief, you
didn't push the issue.

The waitress came and placed two bottles and two frosted mugs in front of
us. You ignored the mug, and I smiled to myself, wondering if you would have
done so had it not been me you were with. You raised your bottle, and I
lifted mine, clinking the necks together. I know I'm nuts, but that little
action sent a surge through my whole body. It just seemed so intimate, which
was crazy, because people toast all the time. They don't even need a reason.
Somehow, the presence of alcohol just seems to require a toast, but
still...it was somehow *different*. You took a sip and set your bottle down.
I held onto mine, picking at the label, grateful for something to do with my
hands.

I cleared my throat, but I ended up sounding like a frog anyway when I asked
you what *you* were going to do. It was a dumb question, but it just tumbled
out. You smirked at me and said, "I'm going to Disneyland," and we both
laughed. But the laughter faded, and we were left in silence for a little
while again before you blurted out that Scully had done a one-eighty
concerning me. You said she actually thought that I might be redeemable
after all. I wanted to ask you what *your* thoughts on that subject were,
but I didn't have the guts to hear it.

That's something new. Alex Krycek. Afraid. And it wasn't like you had a gun
pointed at my head or anything, it was just words, for God's sake. Yet I was
afraid to hear them. I was terrified to know what you really thought, so I
left it alone.

We nursed our beers for the next half hour, making small talk in between the
long silences. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. As much as I knew it was
going to kill me to walk out of that place, I had to. The agony of knowing
that sooner or later, we were going to go our separate ways was just too
much. I thought if I was the one to end it, then somehow it wouldn't hurt so
much. So I took a deep breath, drained my bottle, then announced that it was
time to go. You didn't argue, and you didn't try to stall, which, I have to
say, made my heart sink like a brick.

You paid the tab, and we walked out together. We reached your car first, and
just kind of stood there, watching people go in and out of the bar. After a
while you turned and looked at me. I felt you more than saw you. I couldn't
bring myself to look, knowing that it would be the last time I ever saw
those incredible eyes. So, still glancing around the parking lot, I thanked
you for the beer. You thanked me again for my help and out of the corner of
my eye, I could see that you were holding your hand out. I forced myself to
take it, and the touch was electric. I couldn't help it, I looked at you and
everything stopped. The noise around us, the people...my heart. I made a
weak attempt to pull my hand away, but you held on to it. Your thumb stroked
over my skin, and my heart started again. Only it was beating five times
faster than normal. Your eyes, Jesus, Fox, your eyes...they were burning a
hole straight through me. My head was spinning, and it hurt, and I didn't
know how much longer my legs would hold me up. You raised our hands, just
about to the level of our chins and laced our fingers together. You stared
at them for the longest time and I wanted to scream. When your eyes came
back to mine, they were clear and sparkling and so completely readable.
Before I could respond, your arms were around me, and we were up against
your car, kissing with a fierceness that shook me to the ends of my hair.

Everything I've ever wanted in my life was in that kiss, and if it had ended
right there, I could never ask for anything else, *ever*. I thought if I
could just somehow suspend that moment. Stretch it out and make it last
forever, but...you pulled away. You didn't say anything, but there was so
much in your eyes. Surprise, uncertainty, an apology...a little fear...

I don't think I ever would have initiated that kiss, Fox, but since *you*
started it, *I* was going to finish it. I yanked you back against me and
took your mouth again, with the same wild desperation that you had taken
mine. You melted into it without a struggle, and that was it. We were both
hopelessly lost.

After God knows how long, you pulled away just far enough to whisper against
my lips, and I'll never forget how your words vibrated through my whole body
when you said, "Come home with me."

I nodded and pulled you in for another kiss before going to my car. I still
don't know how my legs were able to hold me up long enough to take me the
roughly, forty feet from your car to mine. I got behind the wheel and
expected to wake up from what I was sure was a dream, as soon as I started
the engine, but damn if I didn't. I pulled out and followed you to your
apartment. It was only about ten minutes away, but it seemed like all of
three hours. I wondered as I drove if that ten minutes would be enough time
for you to come to your senses and tell me to get the hell away from you and
for me to not ever let you see my face again. But when I pulled up behind
your car, you were there, leaning against your driver's side door, waiting
for me. I fell in beside you, and we walked in silence to the elevator. We
stood side by side, just barely touching as we waited for the doors to open.
The minute they did, we stepped inside, and before they could fully close,
you threw me against the wall, and we were at it again. Jesus, Fox, I was so
goddamn hard, it hurt.

The door opened, and you dragged me down the hall to your door. You stood
there fumbling with your keys, cursed when you dropped them not once, but
*twice*, then I went and made things worse by pressing myself against you
from behind and reaching around to the front to rub your cock through your
pants. You fell forward against the door and stood there, helpless and
moaning while I teased you.

I undid your pants and slipped my hand inside the slit of your underwear.
Your cock was so hot and velvety smooth. I couldn't wait. I spun you around
and dropped to my knees right there in the hall and took you into my mouth.

I don't know how the neighbors didn't hear you. Maybe at some future
point...if I'm lucky enough to *have* future nights with you, that would be
an exciting little adventure, but for last night, I wanted you to myself. No
audiences, just us. Plus, my cock was about ready to rip a hole through my
pants, so I thought it might be time to move the party inside.

I let you go and got to my feet. Damn, Fox, you were beautiful. Your eyes
were almost closed, but the little bit of color that I could see was a deep,
sparkling gold, and that mouth...I've never seen a more kissable mouth. Your
breaths were coming soft and shallow, and they were mixed with the tiniest
traces of a whimper. God, I couldn't wait to see you while I was fucking
you.

I held out my hand, and you dropped the keys into it. I forced myself to
concentrate on getting us inside the apartment, and not on the feel of your
hands wandering all over me as I tried to get the damn key in the lock.
Finally, the lock gave, and I threw the door open, pulling you inside after
me. You kicked it shut, and as I was throwing my jacket onto the chair, you
came up behind me and wrapped your arms around my chest. You pushed against
my ass and moaned. You said you liked the feel of the denim rubbing against
your cock. I turned around to find that you had pushed your pants and
underwear down far enough to completely free your cock and balls. I cupped
your balls and licked your mouth until you started to lick back and beg for
more.

I finished undressing you, then myself. We stood for the longest time, just
looking at each other. When that wasn't enough anymore, we began to touch.
Gently at first, exploring and getting to know each other's bodies. Then
rougher and more demanding, squeezing and growling and biting. I always knew
that there was a little animal in me but never knew exactly how much until
last night. And *you*. I'd always wondered. Fantasized about you, but still,
you surprised me.

Somehow we made it to your bedroom, and I pushed you onto your back and fell
on top of you. The feel of our cocks rubbing together almost made me come
right then and there. I had to shift a bit to reduce contact, which didn't
exactly please you, and you let me know. I just had a look at that bite mark
on my shoulder. It's turning purple now and I'll bet it's going to be with
me for at least two weeks. It's okay. In fact, I like it. Even if tomorrow
you come to your senses, I'll have proof for a little while at least, that
for one night, we belonged to each other.

Anyway, I figured I should return the favor. You know, what's good for the
goose, and all that. I pinned you down and inflicted an equally severe mark
just above your left pec, and you just about went crazy. I remember a
thought flashing through my head as you were cursing and groaning. I was
thinking I hoped that your walls weren't too thin, or your neighbors were
really going to be in for a show. Not that I particularly *cared*, but I'm
not the one who has to live there, you know?

I slid down your chest, licking and kissing all the way to your nipples.
They were so hard, Fox, like little brown pebbles. I couldn't resist. I
sucked one into my mouth and flicked at it with the tip of my tongue. Do you
know how vocal you are? It really surprised me. I'll bet you could make me
come just by whimpering like that in my ear. Those sounds are so fucking
erotic. Like everything else about you.

I moved to your other nipple and lashed all around it with my tongue, while
I pinched and pulled at the other one. Your body practically leapt off the
bed, and you plunged both hands in my hair. I don't think you realized just
how hard you were pulling on it, and actually, neither did I at the time.
But I'll tell you, Fox, my scalp is pretty damn sore today.

I moved lower, nipping and licking my way down toward your cock. By the way,
the taste of your skin is now permanently ingrained in my memory. Where was
I? I finally made it down to your cock and lightly teased the head with the
tip of my tongue. You arched again, trying to push yourself into my mouth,
but I pulled back. Each one of those damned gasps and whimpers was like a
long, hard suck on my cock, and I seriously considered gagging you in the
simple interest of prolonging the evening. Instead, I just pulled myself up
beside you and kissed you into silence. Well...near silence. When I broke
the kiss, you started to squirm and complain and tried to pull me back down,
but I wouldn't let you. I stroked a hand up and down your chest, trying to
soothe you at least a little. Your breathing did even out a little bit, and
I felt your muscles loosen and relax. Of course, I didn't want you so
relaxed that you fell asleep on me, so I *accidentally* let my hand slip a
little lower and brush the length of your cock. You grunted and your hips
jerked upward, looking for more, but I distracted you with another kiss.
Your mouth opened for me, and I plunged inside. So many different tastes and
textures, it was overwhelming. I know I'll remember them all.

We lay there together, exploring each other's mouths, licking and tasting
and slowly driving each other crazy. You started to get restless and your
hands began to move through my hair, up and down my back, then over my ass.
Your fingers dug in, squeezing hard, and you pulled me tightly against you.
I let you rub against me for a little while, only as long as I could take
it, then I pulled away and rolled onto my side. I took your hand and pressed
it to my chest, so you could feel the pounding and know what it was you were
doing to me. You gave me a tiny smile and pushed me onto my back.

Your hand moved, starting out slow and gentle, barely skimming my chest and
stomach. You brushed your fingertips across my nipples until they were as
hard as yours, and I started to squirm, then you covered one with your mouth
and dragged your tongue over it. Damn, Fox, it felt so good.

As you switched from one nipple to the other, one hand made its way down to
my cock. Your fingers wrapped around it carefully, almost as though you were
afraid you might hurt me. Your hand was every bit as gentle as your tongue
and I shivered, making sounds that I'd never made before in my life.

Don't know why I was surprised, it wasn't as if anyone had ever taken the
time to please *me* before. It was always either fast, impersonal and
unfulfilling, or completely one-sided. Part of the job. Last night, for the
first time, I felt human. Wanted.

You lifted your head and our eyes met while you continued to stroke me. You
kissed me once, then slid down my body, licking and kissing all the way. I
felt your lips brush my cock, and I was gone. That first touch of your
tongue confirmed it. I was all yours, never *ever* to belong to anyone else.
Not that I had any such desire.

You scraped your teeth lightly over the head, then swirled your tongue
around it before sucking half of my length into your mouth. I gritted my
teeth and fought to keep from bucking my hips. I didn't know if you could
take it all, and I didn't want to scare you off. So, you might imagine how
you shocked the shit out of me, when you withdrew, teased the tip for a
second, then sank back down, right to the base.

What a fucking unbelievable feeling. There I was. Flat on my back. Naked.
Being sucked into near unconsciousness by Fox Mulder. This was like, every
outrageous fantasy I'd ever had come true.

All of a sudden, the sensation was gone. You pulled away and drew yourself
back up to face me. You kissed me, and the taste of myself in your mouth
drove me nuts. I threw you onto your back and got on my knees between your
legs. I pulled you forward, lifting you up against my thighs, then shoved a
finger into your mouth. You sucked it with the same hunger that you had my
cock, then I pulled it out, and spread your ass. I worked it in slowly,
enjoying every moan, every last little grimace. When I had it all the way
in, you started to move against my hand, doing that damn whimpering thing
again, and whispering things I couldn't really understand. When I added
another finger, the words became clearer.

"Fuck me. Oh God, Alex, please fuck me."

That's what you said, and I nearly died.

I asked you if you had any lube around, and you directed me to the first
drawer in your dresser. It was practically unused, and I couldn't help but
wonder when the last time was that you'd gotten any.

No matter. Could have been yesterday. I was determined to make you forget
it. I wanted to make you forget anyone you'd ever been with. Stupid.
Impossible maybe, but I want you to know only me, Fox. Just me.

I slicked myself up, then pulled you back into position. Our eyes locked and
held as I carefully guided the head of my cock into your ass. You were so
hot and tight. Just like I knew you would be. I pushed in, a little bit at a
time, never taking my eyes off of your face. I had to stop twice to pull
myself together. We'd gotten that far, there was no way in hell I was going
to end it right there.

When I was all the way in, I stopped again, giving us both a chance to calm
down and get used to each other. I managed to string a few words together
and asked you if you were okay, and all you did was nod, but there was this
look, this dreamy sort of look in your eye, that told me that you were
probably a little bit more than okay. I started to move again, and it wasn't
too long before that dreamy look turned wild and you started growling at me,
demanding more.

I moved faster and just a little harder, and still you weren't satisfied. It
only seemed to agitate you more. You alternated between growls and whines,
pushing against me and digging your fingers into my back. I couldn't stand
it. I wanted to take it easy on you, I'd really intended to, but that wasn't
what you wanted or needed from me. So I chucked restraint out the window and
did you the way I sometimes fantasized I would. I grabbed you by the hair
and pulled your head back into the pillow until you couldn't move, and then
I slammed into you with as much strength as I could muster.

It was surreal, Fox. I mean, I could hear every cry, even though after a
while, I wasn't sure which sound came from who, and I could feel every jolt
that passed through me with every thrust, but it seemed like I was above it
all, watching us. Does that make sense? Probably not, but it's the only way
I can describe it.

I continued to fuck you as hard as I could, but refused to touch your cock,
and it was driving you insane. Just what I wanted. Your impatience got the
better of you, and you reached down between us, but I slapped your hand
away...frustrated Fox is a pretty, pretty thing to see, you know that? God,
there are so many more ways I can think of to frustrate you. I hope I get to
try them all.

You cursed and swore at me in one breath, then begged and pleaded in the
next. Made no difference, because it all just sort of jumbled into a mass of
unintelligible nothing, when I came. Jesus Christ, I came. You know what,
that's not even a strong enough word for what happened to me. Detonated,
maybe. Blew apart at the seams. And I couldn't stop fucking you. Even after
I'd emptied every drop into you, I couldn't stop until my arms got too weak
to hold me up.

I pulled out of you and dropped down beside you, trying to catch my breath,
but the way you looked at me...that expression went *way* beyond simple
frustration. It took me a second to figure it out, and by the time I did,
you were turning onto your side and your hand was moving down to your cock.

I know it's stupid, but I was hurt that you would think that I would leave
you like that. But hey, why *wouldn't* you think it? This is *me* we're
talking about here, right? Yet, it really, *really* bothered me.

I grabbed your arm and rolled you onto your back, then you mumbled something
like, well, if it made me happy to watch you humiliate yourself, then fine,
and you started to jerk off. I slapped your hand away again, then got out of
bed and stormed out of the room. When I came back, you were on your side
again, this time facing away from the door, but you weren't touching
yourself. You just lay there, quiet. I came back to the bed and rolled you
over again. I straddled your waist. You seemed surprised that I was back and
that irritated me, too. I leaned down and kissed you long and hard, and when
I released you, you were panting again. I raised your hands above your head
and cuffed you to the post. I kneeled there over you, waiting. You looked up
at me a little wide-eyed, but you didn't protest, and I felt better. It
takes some degree of trust to allow a person to restrain you with your own
handcuffs, in your own bed. I need that trust from you, baby. I can't
believe how much I need it.

I bent over and kissed you again. Your mouth, your chin. I kissed my way
down your throat and up and over to your shoulder. You flinched and I could
hear the sharp gasp as I sank my teeth into the muscle. Then I sucked at it,
leaving a second mark on you. I pulled back a little to look at you and
there was that beautiful, cloudy expression again in your eyes. I stretched
out and settled myself on top of you. For the longest time I just lay there,
enjoying the feel of you under me...your cock so hard against my thigh. I
came in for another kiss. Slow. Soft. You've got the most amazing mouth, do
you realize that? No. You don't. You have no idea how fucking irresistible
those lips are. We kissed endlessly, it seemed, with a tenderness I had no
idea I'd possessed. Our tongues stroked and explored each other's mouths,
and I traced the line of your lips over and over again until I was sure that
I would know them blindfolded.

You strained against the cuffs, whimpering against my mouth. The impatience
was beginning to build again, but I wasn't ready to end it, yet. I had no
idea if I'd ever get this close to you again. I knew that once you came and
the cloud of lust was lifted, you might push me away forever. I wanted as
much as I could take from you last night, and I wasn't going to stop until
I'd gotten it.

I kissed you one last time, then brought my fingers up to where my tongue
had been. I skimmed your lips gently, then your cheek. My fingers moved down
past your chin and you arched your neck, offering me your throat. I started
at the base and licked all the way up to the underside of your chin and back
down, stopping halfway to mark you a third time. I heard you gasp and
whisper my name, but I continued downward, teasing you with my hands and my
tongue, stopping at your nipples. I lapped at one, while I gently rolled the
other between my fingers. Your head tossed back and forth on the pillow and
this low-pitched rumble began in your chest. Your hips kept jerking upward,
but I purposely avoided contact, and the begging started again. I think the
only sound that I'd like to hear as much as you begging me to fuck you, is
*me* begging *you* for the same thing.

I left your chest and slid down, teasing your navel, then sliding my tongue
through the hair surrounding your cock. You bucked and strained, trying hard
to get me to touch it, but that wasn't in my plans just yet. I moved to your
thighs, running my tongue along the crease, where they joined your body,
then to the insides, marking each one. I couldn't see your face, but from
the sound of your moans, your teeth were clenched tightly, and you were
holding on by a thread.

I moved carefully, knowing that a wrong touch at this point could take you
past the point of no return. My own cock had come back to life and was also
begging me to bring this little torture session to a close, but my head kept
screaming, "*No*. Don't do it. It feels so good, and it'll never happen
again," but when my tongue touched your balls and that scream ripped from
your throat, I couldn't do it anymore. To either of us.

I moved back over you and pulled you against me. You were so wild, pulling
and straining against the cuffs, snarling your impatience. I positioned my
cock and rammed into you with one thrust, and our world went to pieces. I
wrapped one hand around your cock and jerked you brutally, while I fucked
you with all my strength. You screamed curses into the air, pleading with me
not to stop, and then it hit you, and you were grunting and sobbing as you
came all over my hand and your stomach. I came seconds later, the sound of
your screams still ringing in my ears, drowning out my own.

I collapsed on top of you, luxuriating for a while, in the feel of our
sweat-soaked bodies, sliding against each other. But as we began to dry, you
started to shiver, and I rolled off of you, released you from the cuffs, and
flipped the blanket up over us. You curled into my side and rested your head
against my shoulder and fell into a deep sleep, and I lay there, awake and
more satisfied than I'd ever been in my life, and at the same time, so
goddamn sad. I wanted to cry, and I probably would have, if I didn't think
you'd wake up. I couldn't give you up. Not after tonight, not after this.
But what was I going to do if in the morning you told me to get lost? How
could I handle that?

I remember seeing your clock change to three-fourteen, before I finally fell
asleep. Then I was opening my eyes, and it was morning. I'd only gotten
about three and a half hours, and I probably could have closed my eyes and
gone back to sleep, but the feeling that I was being watched grabbed my
attention. I turned my head to the side, and there you were. Your head was
resting on your upstretched arm, and you were staring at me. I waited for
you to say something, but you just kept staring. I couldn't take it anymore.
I closed my eyes and turned my face away. A few seconds later, I felt your
hand on my cheek, turning me back to face you. You whispered my name, and I
opened my eyes. You paused for a second, then you asked me if it was a
mistake. If it was maybe just us venting after all the shit we'd been
through. How the hell could I answer that? I mean, I knew the way I *wanted*
to answer it, but should I?

I had to. I had to tell you the truth, no matter what *your* answer to your
own question would be.

I told you that it was no mistake on my part; it had nothing to do with the
pressure we were under, or anything else like that. I wanted you. Plain and
simple. Well, maybe not *so* simple.

Much as hearing *your* answer scared me, I asked anyway. What about you? Had
you any regrets?

You answered by sliding your hand around to the back of my head and pulling
me toward you. You kissed me...gently at first, but then with more
insistence. And more, until I was squirming and rubbing myself against your
thigh. You pulled away and smiled, then you swung a leg over my hip and slid
up on top of me. You were hard already, as hard as I was, and God, it felt
so good when you reached between us and squeezed our cocks together.

It wasn't over. Last night *wasn't* the beginning and the end. I don't know
if I can ever express to you, Fox, the joy I felt. You must have seen it in
my face, though, because you gave me this grin that turned me to jelly, and
before I could take a breath, you were kissing me again, still stroking our
cocks together.

I was ready in no time flat. A couple more strokes, and I would have been
all done, but you knew that, and you stopped.

It was my turn to beg, but unlike me, you had no intention of prolonging the
torture. You needed me as badly as I needed you, and you had no intention of
tormenting either of us. You reached for the lube on the nightstand and
quickly applied some to your cock, and when you were ready, you inched
slowly into me.

Jesus, it was like heaven. I'd thought about you fucking me so many times.
More times than I can count, but *damn*, the feel of you inside me was more
than I'd ever imagined. I clung to you, pleading for you to move. To do me
the way I needed you to. I wanted you to make me feel you for weeks after
you were through, and you did your best to give me what I wanted. You
wrapped your hand around my cock and began to jerk me off as you drove into
me, faster and harder with every thrust.

It was coming. I could feel it, like a storm rolling in, and nothing could
stop it. When it hit me, my body tightened around you and my screams sounded
like something made by an animal, or so you told me, later. You kept
pounding into me, then a few seconds later, cried out my name, and slumped
on top of me. I felt your cock slip out of me, and while I was mourning the
loss, you snuggled against my chest, kissing and licking the sweat away. I
wrapped my arms around you and kissed the top of your head. God, I was
smiling like an idiot. I'd never been so happy, Fox. Never.

We lay like that for quite a while, in fact I even fell asleep for about an
hour. When I woke up, you were still there in my arms, lightly licking my
collarbone. I laughed and asked you what the hell you were doing, and you
just said that you loved how I tasted. I felt my cock twitch when you said
that but managed to shake it off.

You asked me what I was going to do today, and I gave you some bullshit
about my laundry piling up and some other mundane domestic crap. I don't
know why I said it. Truth was, all I wanted to do was stay there in bed with
you, but that's not very realistic, is it?

You nodded and asked me if you'd see me later. My heart jumped into my
throat, but I tried to keep cool when I said *sure*. We finally got out of
bed, showered together, which was an experience in itself, managed to keep
from attacking each other, then got dressed. We had a light breakfast, then
I left after we stood in the doorway kissing for at least twenty minutes.
And now, here I sit, clothes all washed and put away, waiting. Just waiting.
For what, I don't know. I want to be with you, but I just think I should
wait a while. I don't want you to think I'm some kind of nut, who suddenly
can't live without you for more than a few hours. I think I'll sit here,
dying for another hour or so, before I call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 19

**********

It was an early night, last night. You hadn't been to work at all yesterday,
so you had to at least put in an appearance today.

I showed up at your apartment at around six-thirty and, after about an hour
of crawling all over each other, we decided to take a break from all the
teasing and eat. We ordered in and ate like there was no tomorrow. Neither
of us had really realized how little sleep *or* food we'd had till now.

We finished eating, then snuggled together on the couch, watching t.v. for a
little while. Christ, it was so....domestic. It shocked me that I loved it
so much. I couldn't think of anything I'd rather be doing. Well, except
for...you know. You seemed to read my mind, because your hands began to
wander over my chest and arms and your lips moved through my hair, then down
to my ear. After teasing the inside for a few seconds, you asked if I'd
planned on staying. I didn't quite know how to answer that. I wanted to, but
again, I didn't want to push it. Fortunately, you didn't wait for an answer.
You tilted my face up and laid a long kiss on me, then whispered against my
mouth, "Please stay with me." You pushed me away from your chest, then got
up and held your hand out to me. I took it, and we went in to bed. We sucked
each other dry, then fell asleep together and didn't wake up until your
alarm went off at five. We went for a run together, came back, did it in the
shower, ate, and you went off to work, and I came back here.

You called me a little while ago and asked me to meet you and the others at
Jimmy's Pub after you got out of work. Today is Friday, and they figured a
celebration was in order. Sure, what the hell? Keeping my hands off of you
in front of them is going to be tough, but I'll live through it, somehow.

That sentence brings up a whole lot of questions, Fox. Questions I wonder if
you've given any thought to. What *about* your friends? Are we going to keep
this from them? Even if we want to, will we be *able* to? For the sake of
peace with Scully and the security of your job, I guess we should. Hell,
maybe I'm jumping the gun, anyway. A couple of nights together does not a
relationship make. Maybe there'll be nothing *to* tell. I can't really
believe that, but I'm trying hard not to get my hopes up too high. That's
damn hard though, considering how we've been with each other the past couple
of days. I don't know. I guess we'll just wait and play it by ear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 21

**********

Interesting evening.

I walked in and you were there, already. Everybody was. The glare I got from
Skinner wasn't exactly welcoming, and I just got the overall feeling that I
wasn't exactly expected. My suspicions were confirmed when Scully voiced her
surprise. She wasn't mad or anything, she just said that she thought that
maybe I'd already moved on, then she turned to you and asked how come you
hadn't told her that I was still around. You just shrugged and moved over to
make room for me to sit. I did, and our legs bumped together. I held my leg
in place, feeling the warmth and wanting so much to slide my hand up your
thigh. Instead, I decided to have a little fun with your friends.

I couldn't resist making trouble. I looked Skinner in the eye and asked if
he wasn't glad to see me. "Thrilled," I believe was his answer, and I told
him that I *knew* he'd miss me if I was gone. I could see you rolling your
eyes, and I smirked to myself, pressing my thigh a little tighter against
yours. I turned to Frohike and Langly, gave them an evil grin and asked them
if *they* were glad to see me. I almost felt sorry for them. They
practically fell over themselves trying to come up with an answer that would
keep me from killing them.

Skinner asked when I was planning on leaving, if you could really call it a
question. Sounded more like a statement. A threat. God, I wanted to shoot
him. Instead, I gave him another brilliant smile and said that actually, I'd
grown rather fond of DC and thought I'd hang around. Blunt as he is, he came
right to the point and asked why. There was nothing here for me, why not
start a new life somewhere else?

I shrugged and asked him what was so wrong with settling here? He leaned
back and studied me for a little bit, then he asked what I was doing there
at the pub; after all, your group didn't seem like the type of people I'd
normally hang around with. Before I could answer, you jumped in, reminding
him that if it weren't for me, none of you would be there, celebrating. I
had every right to be there and frankly, you were surprised at everyone's
reaction to my appearance.

I'm a people watcher, Fox. Quite often, my life depended on reading thoughts
and intentions. I watched their faces as you defended me. Confusion
registered on all of them, to different degrees. Blatant irritation radiated
from Skinner, nothing but total confusion from the geeks, and some mild
suspicion from your partner. The table fell silent for a little while, then
Scully chirped up, involving Skinner and the Gunmen in conversation, while
you and I sat quietly. I couldn't touch you, we were all too close together
and someone might notice, but God, how I wanted to. Being that close to you
and not being able to kiss you was driving me crazy.

The waitress came over with the drinks you all had already ordered but
noticed that I was a new arrival. I looked up at her, and she turned a
hundred and fifty watt smile on me and asked what I'd like to drink. I
smiled back, only to be polite, and asked for a beer. Apparently, she took
it as some kind of encouragement though and leaned over, giving me and the
rest of the table a pretty good look down her blouse. She said it was kind
of loud in there and then proceeded to read off the beer list in my ear. I
ordered a Corona, and before she straightened up, she decided to let me know
that she found leather and earrings tremendously sexy...on the right man, of
course. I said nothing, only grinned at her, and she slinked away, wiggling
her ass.

I laughed to myself and turned my attention back to the table, where I found
everything pretty much as I left it, with one exception. The tension I felt
coming from you was incredible. You had your eyes turned down toward your
beer, and you were picking at the label, dropping the pieces into a pile
beside the bottle. It took me a second to realize what was wrong. You were
jealous! I couldn't understand why you would be; I mean, in *my* mind, you
had absolutely no need to be. You were all I wanted, and I couldn't believe
that you didn't know it, too. I thought about it some more, then I was
flattered. You were jealous. A thoroughly possessive emotion. You thought of
me as yours, and it pissed you off to think that I might be interested in
anyone else.

I was still processing this new information when the waitress returned and
set my beer down in front of me. She said something like, "Here you go,
gorgeous," and made sure she brushed my hand before turning and walking
away. This time, Byers noticed. He raised his eyebrows at me and nodded. He
said that it looked like I wouldn't be going home alone tonight, if I didn't
want to. I just smiled and shook my head. Then your voice reached me. That
soft, flat, seemingly emotionless tone. You said, "Why not, Krycek? She
wants you bad. You could be in for a wild night." Scully picked up on you
and just sat there, staring, not knowing what the hell to make of what you'd
just said and *how* you'd said it. You were so immersed in whatever it was
you were feeling that you didn't even notice her looking at you. But I did,
and as much as I wanted to reassure you, that would only feed her suspicion.
So, I went along with it, and said something like, "I think you're right,
Mulder. I'll be sure to tell you all about it." You seemed to sink deeper
into your mood after that, but I did the best I could, covering it. God, I
couldn't wait to get the hell out of there and get you home.

You were quiet for the rest of the night, talking only when someone said
something to you. Fortunately, the others were so involved in conversation
that they didn't really pick up on your mood. Only Scully and I knew that
you were sulking. Difference was, *I* knew why.

When the party finally broke up and everyone was leaving, the waitress
stopped me and pressed a piece of paper into my hand. I didn't want it, but
I was being watched. So I accepted it and smiled at her. You had been behind
me, but when you saw me take the paper, you brushed past me and walked out
the door. By the time I got outside, you were getting in your car. I
couldn't go to you, Scully was still watching. I smiled at her, waved
goodnight, and got into my car. I drove out of the parking lot and turned in
the opposite direction from which you had gone. I circled back and headed
toward your apartment. By the time I got there, I figured you'd already been
home for a good fifteen minutes or so. I came up and tried the door. Locked.
I didn't bother to knock or ring the bell. I wasn't so sure you'd answer. I
reverted to old ways and picked the lock, letting myself in. I found you by
your desk, in the dark, staring out the window. I called your name and you
blinked, as if you were just coming out of a trance. You seemed genuinely
surprised to see me there.

I walked toward you and stopped when your desk was the only thing between
us. I remember word for word what we said to each other...

Me: "Did you really think that I was interested in that woman?"

You: "You seemed to be."

Me: "Fox, I *had* to make it look that way. Everybody was there..."

You: "She was very attractive."

Me: "Yeah. So?"

You: "You could have had her."

Me: "I don't *want* her. I want *you*."

You: "Uh huh. That's why you took her number."

Me: "Scully was right there, for Christ's sake! What was I *supposed* to do?
She's already suspicious, in case you hadn't realized it."

You: "Why do you say that?"

Me: "How the hell could you not notice? Oh yeah, you were too busy being
stupid."

You: "Fuck you."

Me: "I never should have gone to that stupid bar. I should have known it'd
be nothing but trouble."

You: "Yeah. Sorry, I was too *stupid* to realize it was a bad idea."

Me: "Is that all you think was a bad idea?"

You: "What are you talking about?"

Me: "You know what I mean. Do you want me to leave?"

You: "Doesn't matter what I want. If you don't want the same thing, there's
no point."

Me: "You have no idea what I want. I thought you did, but you don't."

You: "Tell me, Alex. Clue me in."

Me, getting more irritated by the minute: "I'm *here*. That doesn't tell you
anything?"

You went quiet, looking down at the desk. I remember cursing under my breath
and coming around to stand in front of you. I grabbed you by the front of
your shirt and jerked you toward me, right into a violent kiss that left us
both panting and gasping for air. I released you, and we practically tore
each other's clothes off. You cleared your desk and bent me over it. You
took me without any preparation, and though there was some initial pain,
that soon dissipated, and all that was left was mind-shattering pleasure. I
raised my ass a little bit, giving you the angle for deeper penetration, and
you took full advantage of it, hitting my prostate now on every stroke. Even
though the sensation was fantastic, I needed you to stroke my cock, so I
could come with you. But you were drowning in your own pleasure at the
moment, and nothing else could get through to you.

You came, groaning into the back of my neck, then dragged yourself off of me
and pulled me up and toward the bedroom. We fell onto the bed and you turned
your back to me, grinding your ass against my cock. I kissed the back of
your head and turned toward the nightstand.

"No."

I turned back to you and asked what you meant by *no*. You said you wanted
it just like you'd given it me. Hard and fast. No lube. You wanted to *feel*
me. You begged me to make you feel it, and I did. You whimpered and sobbed
as I drove into you, but you wouldn't let me stop, pleaded with me not to,
until I came. Didn't take long. My orgasm hit me in one blinding flash that
left my throat sore and my body incredibly weak.

You moved, and we both moaned softly as I slipped out of you. You turned
around and pulled me into your arms. You kissed my forehead and my hair and
said that you were sorry for what had happened. You said you had no business
being jealous; after all, we'd had no understanding between us about other
people.

I looked up at you and said, no that's right, we didn't. And I asked you if
we could talk about that. Not in the morning, but right then and there. I
wanted clarification of the boundaries of our relationship, and I wanted it
now.

We sat up, propped against the pillows and began to talk. I laid it all out
to you. I had to, if I was going to have any peace. I told you how long I'd
been attracted to you and that since we'd been working together, that
attraction had grown into something I never dreamed it would. I told you
that I realized that it was probably way too soon to be saying such things,
but I wanted it to be just you and me. No one else.

You looked at me so long I was beginning to worry. Then, you said that you
were glad I felt that way. Surprised, but very glad, because ever since the
morning after our first night together, you'd been thinking the same thing.
That's why you were so upset about the waitress. You said that you knew you
probably shouldn't be thinking of me as yours, but you couldn't help it. And
if we'd stayed in that bar just ten minutes longer, everybody at our table
would have found out exactly how you felt.

God, Fox, I was so happy, I could have cried. I turned into your chest and
wrapped my arms around you. Your arms came around me, and you stroked my
back and kissed the top of my head. You apologized again for being such an
idiot, and I told you not to worry about it. If the situations were
reversed, I probably would have reacted a lot worse than you did.

The truth is, I'd actually given that scenario some thought earlier at the
bar while you were pouting, and the thought of someone, be it man or woman,
trying to get a piece of *my* Fox just went up one side of me and down the
other. Jeez, if just the *thought* of it made me that angry, I can imagine
how you felt as it was happening to *you*.

Anyway, it seemed that it was settled. We were exclusive. I know that by all
accounts that may seem crazy. Look at our history. Not very pretty. And
we've been together now for what? Three days? But my feelings for you, Fox,
are so strong. And from what you've told me, you feel pretty much the same.
I want to be with you every minute of every day and night. I know that
sounds juvenile and maybe just a little bit nutty, but it's how I feel. I
know that the end of this mess isn't the end of the X-files. You've still
got a job to do. And it takes you away a lot, I know that too. But knowing
that it's me you're going to come back to gives me such a feeling of warmth
and security. I've never had that. It's overwhelming but only in the best
sort of way.

You leaned to the left, and I leaned to the right, resting our heads
together. We laced our fingers, and we talked some more. You asked me what
my real name was, and I started to laugh. When I finished, I asked you what
made you think that Alex Krycek *wasn't* my real name. You just shrugged and
said that you figured in my line of work, it might be an alias. You were
surprised to find out that it wasn't. Of course, technically, I told you
that Alex was short for Alexei. You told me that you were glad that my name
wasn't like, Marvin or Lester or something geeky like that. You'd gotten
used to addressing me as Alex, (we won't talk about the other things you've
called me over the years, sweet Fox) and thought that it fit me well.
Masculine. You kissed my eyebrow. Sexy.

I rubbed my head against yours, then turned to lick the line of your jaw.
You taste so good, baby. Especially after we've worked up a good sweat. I
love that salty tang. I could have licked every inch of you. Some Saturday
night when we've got nothing but time, I may do just that.

I brought the subject of your partner up, asking you what you planned to do
about Scully. You said you had no idea what to do and asked me if I thought
you really needed to do anything at all. I thought you did. She was
seriously suspicious after watching us at the bar, and I thought it was
better that you tell her, than have her draw her own conclusions. You
thought about it for a few seconds, then agreed. But you insisted that we
*both* tell her. Great. We'll die together. So romantic.

We made love again, this time, slowly, teasing each other unmercifully, and
finally ending it with a long, sweet fuck. God, you were amazing. I don't
know how the hell you kept it together for that long, but damn, you drove me
insane. I've never screamed so much in all my life as I have these past few
days.

We fell asleep wrapped around each other, and when I woke up in the morning,
it was in the warmth of your arms. God, how did my life get so good?

You were already awake and very involved in nuzzling my hair and stroking my
back. Felt so good. I must have made some sort of sound because you stopped
and tipped my head up. You smiled down at me, and my insides turned to mush.

You're beautiful in the morning, did you know that? Your hair all over the
place, those sleepy eyes...your mouth all soft and swollen...and when you
say good morning. Your voice is all raspy and deeper than normal. What a
turn-on. Hell, Fox, I'm finding myself *perpetually* turned on by you. You
could *sneeze*, and I'd be ready to jump you. I wonder if this is normal. I
wonder if this deep, consuming lust we have for each other will last, or if
we'll settle into that *comfort zone* that so many couples do. I don't know,
somehow I just don't see us going stale, but I guess time will tell.

You came in for a kiss, then asked if I liked bagels. You said you were
hungry and you woke up with bagels on your mind, and you were going out for
some. I offered to go, but you insisted that you wanted me to stay put. You
kissed me again, then got out of bed, wincing a little as you did, and
headed for the bathroom. I watched you walk away, watched that
ass...remembered being buried in it the night before, and was sorely tempted
to join you, but you *did* ask me not to move, so I just fell back against
the pillows and waited. Next thing I knew, you were standing over me, fully
dressed, rolling up your sleeves. You reached down and skimmed the bridge of
my nose with the back of one finger and told me to go back to sleep, and
that you'd be back in a little while with breakfast. You started on your way
out of the room, then stopped and backed up to the bed. You leaned over me
and said that by the way, that waitress wasn't the only one who found
leather and earrings sexy. You nuzzled my ear, then bit down on my earring
and pulled. You let go, gave me a smirk, then left the apartment.

I lay there for a little while, basking in unbelievable joy, then I got up.
A shave could wait, but I never could eat breakfast until I'd at least
showered and brushed my teeth, so I got up and did that, then got back into
bed. I heard the door open a few minutes later, and waited another ten
minutes or so before you came in, carrying a tray loaded with bagels and
cream cheese, muffins, and two cups of coffee. You set the tray down,
dropped onto the bed, and asked me if I missed you.

I answered you with a long, wet kiss, then demanded that you feed me. I
didn't mean it literally, Fox, but you did actually hand feed me a lemon
poppy seed muffin and half of a cinnamon bagel. Halfway through the muffin,
I stopped eating and refused to take another bite until you undressed and
got under the sheet with me. You gave me some bullshit about at least
letting you finish your breakfast first, but I wasn't having it. I folded my
arms across my chest and refused to open my mouth when you offered me
another bite.

You laughed, dropped the muffin onto the tray, and got undressed. You slid
under the sheet with me, citing my irresistible pout as the reason for your
easy compliance. Hey. Whatever. As long as I had you back in bed and naked,
I didn't give a damn *what* got you there.

We finished eating, then I took the tray into the kitchen. I can't stand to
have food hanging around after I've eaten.

When I came back to the bedroom, you flipped the sheet back, spread your
legs, and pulled me down to sit between them. I leaned back against your
chest, and you flipped the sheet back over us, then wrapped your arms around
me. You rubbed your cheek into my hair, and slowly moved your hand up and
down my arm. It was so soothing, I found myself fighting to keep my eyes
open. Just as I'd about lost the battle, the phone rang. Scared the shit out
of me. You tightened one arm around my chest, and reached for the phone. It
was Scully, telling you that her mother wanted her to call and invite you
out to lunch with them. You politely turned her down, and though I couldn't
hear what she was saying, it was obvious from your end that she wasn't
giving up so easily. You finally convinced her to take no for an answer,
told her to send her mother your regrets, and hung up. You wound your arm
back around me, and explained that Margaret Scully was a sweet, lovely
woman, who just could not understand how you and her daughter could spend so
much time together, and *not* be romantically involved. Scully tried to get
her to give it up, but she was a stubborn woman and most times, like this
morning, Scully would just rather go along with her, than listen to her
lecturing. She said it was just easier that way. I understood. Hey, it must
be nice to have a mother fussing over you.

That conversation ended, and I started another one. I asked you when it was
that you first realized that you wanted this. When did you stop hating me,
and start wanting me. You said you weren't exactly sure. You actually think
that you hated me and wanted me at the same time. And the fact that you
wanted me made you hate me even more. Sort of a vicious circle type thing.

You said that you remember being attracted to me right from the beginning,
though you thought it was rather perverse of you. Not because I was a man,
you'd been with men before. It was the fact that I looked so much like a
little boy playing dress-up in his daddy's oversized suit. You ignored me,
you were insulting, you deserted me...anything to hide the attraction you
felt. And when you'd found out that I'd double-crossed you, it was perfect.
You said you'd found yourself breaking down a little, day by day, but now
you had a damn good reason to push those thoughts away. And when you thought
I'd killed your father, the rage was overwhelming. Even though there was
absolutely nothing between us, you felt so betrayed, and you were really
able to work up a good hate. But still, you'd find yourself thinking of me
some nights. And you despised me all the more for being in your head. So
every time you saw me, you'd beat the shit out of me to try to keep that
hatred in place.

You stopped in the middle of what you were saying and I nudged your shoulder
with the back of my head and asked if you'd fallen asleep or something. You
were quiet a few seconds more, then asked me why I never fought back. I
probably could have killed you each one of those times, but I never even
took a swing at you. You wanted to know why.

I just shrugged and said that I couldn't. I'd done so much to you, and I
deserved everything you dished out and more. I told you I still couldn't
believe that we were together and that every time I woke up, I expected to
do so alone, finding that all that's happened between us in the last few
days had been a dream. When I open my eyes and you're there next to me, I
say a little prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening, for giving me
another day with you.

I've never said stuff like this before in my life. Not to anyone. But I look
at you, Fox, and I just want to tell you everything. Well. Not quite
*everything*.

There's one thing I haven't told you, and I don't know when I will, if ever.
It's way, *way* too soon. I'd seem like a total maniac if I told you right
now that I love you. I mean, it feels so right to say it to myself, but I'm
deathly afraid that you'll laugh at me or worse, completely reject me. The
last thing in the world I want to do is scare you away. So I'll keep it to
myself for now...probably go mad in the process...and just take each day as
it comes and relish every minute I have with you.

Shit, I sure know how to get off track, don't I? What the hell was I talking
about? Oh yeah. I pitched forward and turned to face you. I asked you if you
trusted me. *Really* trusted me.

You cocked your head and gave me this faintly amused look and said something
like, if you *didn't* *really* trust me, we'd all be E.T.'s house servants
by now.

Yeah, okay, but that's not what I meant. That had to do with the fate of the
whole world. There was so much, so many people involved in that. This was
just you and me, on the most personal of levels, and I needed to know.

Your smile faded, and my heart began to pound. I was so sure that you were
going to tell me that you didn't know. But you surprised me again. You
slipped a hand into my hair and pulled me forward. After a long kiss, you
pulled back, looked me in the eye, and said that you did trust me. And I
believed you.

We were both a little sore from the night before, but that didn't stop us.
We exercised a little restraint, and made love again, gently, then fell
asleep until early afternoon. We spent the rest of the day doing nothing in
particular. We talked, watched a couple of movies, ate dinner...all without
ever really getting out of bed. Later last night, we killed a whole bag of
cheese popcorn and a bottle of cheap wine, then I jerked off while you
watched. By the time I came, you were ready to climb the walls, so I took
care of you, then we fell asleep until late this morning.

I'm home now. Losing my fucking mind.

I thought that maybe it might be a good idea to spend tonight apart. If
we're together, you're not going to get the sleep that you should, and
you've got to drive out of town tomorrow. Now I'm here, writing this,
cursing myself to hell and back for making the suggestion.

We're big boys, right? We should have enough discipline to keep our hands
off of each other and just go to sleep. Who the fuck am I kidding? I'm
sitting here, with a screaming hard-on, thinking about that mouth of yours.
It should be illegal to have a mouth that goddamn beautiful. If I close my
eyes and concentrate, I can almost feel it wrapped around my cock.

Ah, shit. Somebody's at the door. Who the hell would be at my door at almost
midnight?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 22

**********

I'm not looking in a mirror, but I know I've got the stupidest grin on my
face. I couldn't believe it when I looked through the peep hole last night
and saw you standing there. I secured my gun and threw the door open. You
stood there, looking sort of unsure when I stared at you and said nothing.
Finally, you found your voice and told me that you couldn't sleep. You'd
tried for two hours, and your eyes just wouldn't stay closed. I stepped
aside and you took a few steps beyond the door. You looked down and saw the
gun dangling in my hand. You gave me a weak smile and said, "If you want me
to go, just say so."

I set the gun down and turned back to you. I asked you why you'd come, and
you stood quietly a minute, then said that you'd decided that my idea to
sleep apart stunk, and you came over to tell me so. I had to smile at that,
and I told you that I had just been thinking the same thing. You took a few
more steps forward and stopped just a couple of inches from me. That mouth.
God, that mouth. It was so close. You stared directly into my eyes and said
that you missed me.

That was it.

I yanked you against me and practically devoured those lips. It took you a
second to respond, but when you did, holy shit.

We never even made it to the bedroom. Hell, the couch was only a few feet
away, and we missed that too. We hit the floor, ripping each other's clothes
off. Before you tossed your pants, you dug into the pocket and pulled out a
small tube. I had to laugh. I'm glad you were prepared though, because there
was no way in hell that I was going to take the time to go get *my* lube,
and since I was still a bit sore from the other night, and I bet you were
too, it really wouldn't be a good idea not to use some.

You attacked me like an animal. I just about had time to catch what was left
of my breath, and you were on me, biting and sucking, doing that growling
thing. Not that I'm complaining. God *knows* I'm not complaining.

Damn, Fox, you sure know how to make me crazy. Your mouth was everywhere at
once, it seemed, kissing my shoulder, sucking my nipples, biting at my hip.
I fought to hold still. I was so sure that my cock was next, and I was
shaking with anticipation, but dammit, you avoided it altogether and moved
back up and kissed me. Again and again, sucking on my tongue, nipping at my
lips, while you rubbed your cock against my thigh.

I started to beg...like you didn't know that I would. You really enjoy that;
I can see the satisfaction on your face when I do. I think you like the idea
of having me at your mercy. Alex Krycek, naked, helpless, pleading, needing
something only you can give. And you just held it back until you were
goddamn fucking good and ready to give it to me. You're just lucky that I
love it too, that's all I gotta say. I don't know if I'd ever have let
anybody else do this to me. Let me amend that statement. I *know* I'd never
have let anybody else do this to me.

You unscrewed the cap on the lube and greased up your cock, then worked your
finger into my ass. I pushed against you until you were in up to your last
knuckle, and still, it wasn't enough. You slid that one finger in and out a
few times, then added another. I gritted my teeth and bucked against your
hand while you pinched my nipples with the other. Jesus, my head felt like
it was going to come off. I would have done anything at that point. Anything
you asked, if only you would fuck me. That was a stupid thing to say because
I'd do anything you asked, even if I *wasn't* trying to get fucked. But you
know what I mean. I was desperate. I pleaded with you to give me your cock.
I begged. I threatened. You just smiled. Actually, it came out as more of a
sneer. Fucking bastard. I love you.

You pulled your fingers out and positioned me against you. I could feel your
cock lying hard against the crevice of my ass, and I just about lost it. I
had to clench my hands in my hair to keep from grabbing my cock. I felt the
head move between my cheeks, then start to stretch me. Then you were there,
fucking me hard and fast. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't make a sound. I was
completely overwhelmed, but you wouldn't stop. You just moved harder and
faster, and all I could hear above the roar in my head, was the grunts that
came out of you every time you slammed against me.

You grabbed my cock and started to jerk me off, thank God, because I don't
think I would have lived another three minutes, if you didn't make me come.
I felt it rise up and take me over in the blink of an eye. I clawed at the
carpet and screamed, and then you were there too. You fell on top of me,
biting into my shoulder and groaning as you finished. That was the last
thing I remember until I woke up forty-five minutes later with you still on
top of me.

With a little coaxing, I managed to wake you up and get you into bed. I went
into the bathroom to wash. When I came out, you were asleep again, and I
just had to stand there for a minute and look at you. First of all, seeing
you there in my bed gave me the most indescribable feeling. Second, seeing
that you were obviously comfortable enough with me to fall asleep *in* *my*
*bed* compounded that feeling. God, it was unbelievable.

I sat at the edge of the bed and washed you with the warm cloth I'd brought
with me from the bathroom. You barely even moved. When I finished, I slipped
in beside you and pulled the blanket up over us. Without waking up, you
gravitated toward me and settled against my side, wrapping one arm around my
waist. I kissed the top of your head and went to sleep.

I woke this morning to the sound of your watch alarm. You must have set it
before you came over last night. So you'd planned on staying right from the
time you'd made up your mind to come over. How'd you know I wasn't going to
send you home, huh?

Yeah, right. Like I ever would have done that.

I managed to wake myself sufficiently enough to ask you what time it was.
You said it was five thirty. You had to pick Scully up at seven. I asked you
if you had enough time to go from here to your apartment, then to Scully's,
and you gave me this smirk. You said that you had everything you needed for
the trip already packed in your car, plus a fresh suit for today. I laughed
my ass off and asked you if you were always so confident. You leaned over
and kissed the side of my nose and said no, that's why you didn't just bring
the suit up with you in the first place.

You never have to be uncertain about whether or not I want you with me,
baby. It's a sure bet.

You went to the living room to get your clothes, so you could go down to
your car. In the meantime, I jumped out of bed and took a quick shower. When
you got back, I was just shutting the water off. You complained because I
didn't wait for you, but you knew that taking a shower together when you
didn't have a whole lot of time to kill was *not* a good idea. I dried
myself and got dressed, then went into the kitchen to make you a quick
breakfast. By the time you finished showering and dressing, I had poached
eggs, bacon and toast almost ready. You came up behind me and wound your
arms around my chest. You kissed the side of my neck and jaw and told me
that I didn't have to do that for you. It had been a late night, and I just
should have stayed in bed. You had just planned on stopping at McDonald's on
your way to Scully's.

Well, there was no way in hell I would have let you do that. You were going
to be gone for a couple of days, and the least I could do was send you off
with a decent breakfast.

We sat down and ate, then at around six-thirty, you got up to leave. I
walked with you to the door, where we kissed for a couple of seconds. You
thanked me for last night and for breakfast, said you'd call me tonight, and
then you were gone.

I cleaned up in the kitchen, then went back into the bathroom, where I found
you'd left your clothes. I picked them up, smiling like a damn fool the
whole time. I tossed your underwear and pants into the laundry basket and
was about to throw your shirt in too, but I stopped. I stripped my own shirt
off and put yours on. I loved having something that touched your skin,
touching mine. And now your smell is surrounding me as I sit here, writing.
It's almost like you're here with me. Okay, that's stretching it a bit, but
you know what I mean.

Phone's ringing. I hope it's you.

It was you. Well, who else would it be? I'm not exactly drowning in friends.

I asked you how your drive was. You said it was fine, you assumed. You slept
most of the way, while Scully drove. She must have loved that. Anyway, you
said that you'd probably be home in a couple of days and that you'd call me
again tomorrow. We talked for a few minutes more about nothing in
particular, you asked me what I was doing, and I said nothing, I was just
sitting around wearing your shirt. You laughed, asked me why, and I told
you. You went quiet for a few seconds, then you said you wished it was you
here, wrapped around me. I felt this wave of heat crawl up my neck and
spread over my face. For Christ's sake, I haven't blushed since...shit, I
don't think I've *ever* blushed in my life. You do some strange shit to me,
you know that?

I just let the statement go by. I had been pretty sure that I wasn't going
to get a very good night's sleep, *before* you called, but if we started on
any conversations like *that*, I'd be all done. I told you that you should
go and get some sleep because you'd said it was going to be an early day
tomorrow. We said goodnight just a couple of minutes ago, and now I'm here,
doing my best to ignore the throbbing in my jeans. It'd be easy enough to
just give in to it, but it's not the same as when I come with you. That's
what I want. That's what I'll wait for. It might kill me, but I'll wait for
you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May 11

**********

Been a while since I've done any writing. No particular reason, I've just
been busy living life.

You came back a couple of days after your last trip, and you came straight
here. To me. I met you at the door, and we left a trail of clothes from
there to the couch. We went at each other like demons and didn't stop until
the fucking walls shook.

We've spent every night together, either here or there at your apartment,
and last night, just before we went to sleep, you told me that you'd been
putting it off, but you thought it was time to tell Scully. You said you
knew that you'd originally told me that you wanted us to tell her together,
but you wouldn't hold me to that. I tightened my arms around you and told
you that I wasn't going to let you face the fire alone. I'd be right there
with you.

You called me today from work and said that you'd told Scully that there was
something important that you needed to talk to her about and asked if she
could come to your apartment tonight after work. She said yes and that she'd
had an idea for some time that something was up with you. She didn't say if
she had any ideas about what it was, though we're both pretty sure that she
does.

You should be here soon. Hope you disarm her before you get here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May 12

**********

It's about 2:13 a.m. You're asleep.

I slipped out of bed to get this all down while it was fresh in my mind.

Some night.

You walked in a little after six with her behind you. We hadn't seen each
other in weeks, and she couldn't hide her surprise at seeing me there. Then
all of a sudden, the surprise was gone. She did us the courtesy though of
letting us tell her what we had to, in the way that we wanted to. You know,
I'm saying *we*, but it was you who did most of the talking. Hey, she's
*your* friend.

When you finished, she sat there on the couch, not saying anything. You sat
on the chair across from her, leaning forward, your elbows resting on your
thighs, fingers clasped together. I sat on the arm of the chair, not
touching you, but wanting to. She kept looking from you to me and back
again. Finally, she said something.

Her: "How long?"

You: "Almost a month."

Her: "So, just around the same time we took the Consortium down."

You: "Technically, yes."

Her, looking at me: "Technically?"

Me: "Yeah, well, we knew there was something between us before then, but
that night we found out that it was all over is when we confronted it."

Her: "I see. So...why tell me?"

You: "You're my partner, Scully. My friend. Friends share important events
in their lives with each other."

Her: "Important."

You: "Yes." At that point, you leaned back and took my hand in yours. You
smiled up at me, then turned your attention back to her. "Very important. I
don't want to hide this from you, Scully."

Her: "You took a hell of a big chance, Mulder. How did you know I wasn't
going to go nuts? How do you know I won't walk out of here and go straight
to Skinner? Ask for a transfer off the X-files and get as far the hell away
from you as I can?"

You: "Will you?"

Her, after a brief pause: "No. Your personal life is your own. I don't
understand this, I don't know if I can, but I won't give you a hard time.
Either of you."

You: "I appreciate that, Scully. I know it came as a shock to you. We were
more than a little surprised, ourselves."

Her: "I just have to ask. How? I mean, you *hated* this man, Mulder. I know
he's not exactly who we thought he was, but...how do you go from one extreme
to the other?"

You: "I've always been attracted to him." You kissed the back of my hand and
let it go. Your hand dropped to my thigh, and I raised my hand to your
shoulders, massaging them gently. "I just could never admit it."

Her: "What about you?"

I nodded and stroked your hair. "I've wanted him for a long, long time."

Her: "And how is it that you came to admit this to each other?"

Me: "We could read it all over each other, that night. There was no doubt."

She looked down long enough to give us the opportunity to shoot nervous
glances at each other.

You: "Scully, I need you to understand this. I'm happy with Alex. These last
few weeks have been the best I've ever had."

Her: "I understand, Mulder, that there's no way I can deny that you've been
in a better mood than I've ever seen you. I tried to attribute it to the end
of the smoking man and his friends and all their plans, but I knew deep down
that it was more than that. I knew something was up that night that we were
all at the bar and that waitress was flirting with Alex. I could see that
something was wrong. The thought that you may actually have been jealous
even flitted across my mind, but I squashed it, quick. I wouldn't allow
myself to even consider it." She paused, looking back and forth between us,
again. "You're really happy?"

You: "Yes."

Her: "Okay." She looked back at me. "I've changed my opinion about you,
Alex, quite a bit, but...if you hurt him...I swear on the souls of my father
and my sister..."

You: "Scully..."

Me: "It's okay, Fox. Let her say what she wants to say. Finish, Scully."

Her: "I'll kill you."

Me: "Fair enough."

Her: "I'm not kidding, Krycek."

Me: "I never thought for a second that you were."

Her: "Dead."

You: "All right Scully, all right. I think he's got it."

She stayed a little while longer, then left with the promise to do her best
to understand and accept our relationship. It was all we could ask. Frankly,
I'm surprised at her reaction. I expected her to be a lot more upset than
she was.

We turned in not long after she left. I could feel the tension drain out of
your body as you relaxed against me. I held you against my chest and rubbed
your back until you fell asleep only a few minutes later. I dozed off for a
while, but all that was said kept running through my mind, so I decided to
get up and write it down.

I'm starting to feel tired again, so I guess I'll end this here and get back
to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May22

**********

Major event. Well, to me, anyway.

We've reached the point in our relationship where we're apparently so
comfortable with each other, that we've started using those cute little
endearments that always used to make me roll my eyes when I heard them. Now,
I find myself calling you *baby* on a regular basis, while you seem more
partial to the shorter *babe*. And the other day, out of the blue, you
slapped me with a nickname. I am now *Lexei*, which I have to admit, I love.
It's personal, you know? Something that'll always be just between us. A name
only you will ever know me by. Really makes me feel like I'm all yours.

Scully is adjusting to us very well. Unbelievably well. The woman is a lot
cooler than I ever gave her credit for.

With your permission, she told her mother. She said the poor woman was
shocked and more than a little disappointed that she'd have to give up on
her plans to get you two together. But she said that the news will do
nothing to change her feelings for you, and she's even expressed an interest
in meeting me. I'm amazed. I thought devout Catholics were dead set against
same sex relationships, as a rule.

We told your other friends a few days ago, and they reacted pretty much the
way we thought they would. They were dumbstruck, but out of friendship for
you and fear of me, they accepted our announcement and promised that nothing
between you would change.

In light of the reactions we've gotten so far, you're now considering
talking to Skinner. I told you that you should think about that one long and
hard. Yeah, I know he's a friend. But first, he's your boss, and he seems to
me like he would be too rigid *not* to take his duties as A.D. seriously.

The long and the short of it is, I'm afraid, Fox. Not for myself, Skinner
can kiss my ass. I'm afraid for you. I don't want you to lose your job
because of me. I love you, and if I were ever to cause you any pain of any
kind, I'd never forgive myself.

Maybe I'm worrying for nothing. Maybe you'll decide against telling him. Or
if you do tell him, maybe he'll actually act like a human being and at least
*try* to understand your feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 2

**********

Took me two days to actually compose myself enough to write. Plus, I wanted
to make sure that it wasn't like, a dream, or you weren't going to change
your mind and take it back or anything.

We were at your apartment. It was about one-thirty, and we were watching
some ridiculously hokey late night movie, laughing and pointing out all the
mistakes, counting the amount of times we saw the overhead mike in the shot,
how many times the part in the star's hair switched sides...stuff like that.
I was sitting, propped against the pillows and you were between my legs,
lying back against my chest. You stopped laughing. Well, you didn't just
*stop*, your laughter sort of faded away, and you pulled my hand into yours
and laced our fingers together. You studied them for the longest time, and I
started thinking that the last time you did that, our lives did a screaming
one-eighty. Before I could do any more thinking, you lifted our hands, and
brushed your lips across my knuckles. You shifted around so that we were eye
to eye and gave me this smile, this soft, sweet smile, and then you just
said it. "I love you, Lexei."

Everything started to spin. I felt like I'd suddenly left my body, yet I was
right there, unable to move, grounded by those eyes. I finally remembered to
breathe, and some of the dizziness subsided. I don't know how long I sat
there staring at you, but I saw your smile fade and a little sliver of
apprehension replaced the gleam in your eyes. You looked away and I felt
your body sag. I gave myself a mental shake, and touched your face. You
looked back at me, and I wrapped my arms around you and held on to you like
you might suddenly vanish. We clung to each other for I don't know how long,
then I whispered in your ear that I loved you, too. That I've loved you for
such a long time now.

You pulled back and looked at me, obviously stunned. I asked you if you
really had no idea. You shook your head. Said you'd never even dared to hope
that I'd ever feel that way about you. I can still see your face. You were
so uncertain. So beautiful.

I pulled you in for a kiss, mumbling "I love you" against your mouth, over
and over. I couldn't stop saying it. It'd been building up for so long. My
heart jumped into my throat when you said, "Show me."

So I showed you.

All night.

I don't know if it sounds stupid to say that it was different, but it was.
We were making love, in every sense of the word. I never knew that it could
make such a difference, I mean, I loved you, I knew I loved you the whole
time. But knowing that you loved me back, Fox...it was just...it never felt
so good. And that's saying a hell of a lot.

After devouring each other until almost dawn, we fell asleep. Last thing I
remember was you sprawled over my back, still deep inside my ass, kissing my
cheek and telling me you loved me, before our bodies began to relax and we
passed out.

We slept until late morning, spent the early afternoon just hanging around,
discussing our new discovery, then later got ready to go out to dinner with
Scully and her mother. It would be my first time meeting the woman, and
knowing how much *you* liked her, I wanted to make a good impression.

I let you and Scully take me shopping last week in preparation. All in all,
an experience I hope never to repeat. Not with Scully present, anyway. She
was just trying to be helpful, but she was driving me crazy, throwing so
much at me at once. Pants, shirts, ties, jackets. Do you know when the last
time was I'd worn a freakin' tie? After the Bureau, I burned every suit and
tie I had and never looked back. Now here I was, buying more. Granted,
Armani and Hugo Boss are a hell of a lot nicer than anything I had back
then, but *still*.

I won't forget the look on your face when I walked out of the dressing room,
wearing the first suit. You didn't care that Scully was sitting right there.
You got up from your chair and walked up to me. When we were only a few
inches apart, you looked me up and down. The look in your eyes made my cock
twitch. You skimmed your knuckles down the lapel of my jacket and gave me a
trace of a smirk. Told me I was drop dead gorgeous, then you kissed me right
there in the store. As far as I knew, besides Scully, only the clerk saw it.
Poor woman didn't know which way to look. Okay, so maybe I *did* have a
little fun that day...

Anyway, we met Scully and her mother yesterday at the restaurant, at six. I
liked Maggie the minute we met. She had the sincerest, kindest smile I've
ever seen.

And even though I didn't really give her much to go on, I think she liked
me. Which I admit surprises me. First, I'm the guy who screwed up her hopes
for having you for a son-in-law...second, I'm...well, I'm *me*. Expensive
suit not withstanding. But then again, she probably knows nothing about
*me*. Somehow I doubt that Scully would have given her the whole story.

I thought I'd be very uncomfortable, but she did everything she could to put
me at ease, and I appreciated it.

Dinner ended at around eight, and as we were leaving the restaurant, Maggie
wound her arm around yours and led you away, leaving Scully and me to walk
together. We couldn't hear what she was saying to you, but Scully thought
that from her expression, it wasn't anything bad. A little later on the way
to your apartment, you told me that she said she liked me, and she asked you
if I was always so quiet. She also made the observation that while I was
very handsome, I didn't exactly look comfortable in that suit. Smart woman.

We got to your apartment and I headed straight for the bedroom, starting to
yank at the knot of the tie. You grabbed me by my arm and pulled me back.
You asked if you could undress me yourself. Like I was going to say no.

You took perverse pleasure in *slowly* peeling my clothes off, and by the
time you made it down to my pants, I was really cursing Mr. Armani.

T-shirt, jeans, ten seconds, and *bang*. Naked. But, noooooooo.

I really shouldn't complain. You *do* like that GQ look on me. Turns you on.
Maybe I could wear nicer stuff once in a while, for you. Casual, but better
than the jeans.

After a long, sweaty session, we fell asleep, and I didn't wake until a
sound startled me at around three. It was you. You were moaning and shifting
around, like you were in pain. Then you started to scream your sister's
name. Scared the hell out of me.

I touched your shoulder and called to you, but you didn't wake. I tapped
your chest and called a little louder. Your eyes opened, and you looked
around the room like you didn't know where you were. I turned your face
toward me and rubbed your cheek. Asked if you were okay, but you didn't
answer. All you did was look up at me in a daze, and shake. God, you were
shaking so much. I pulled you into my arms and held you as tight as I could
until I felt the trembling subside.

When you were calmer, I asked you about the dream. You said it happened
every once in a while. Seemed to come in waves. It'd be months and months,
and you wouldn't dream about it. Then for some reason, it'd come to you four
or five times in the span of a month or two. You didn't know what triggered
it, if anything did at all. It was always the same. Your sister being taken
away, by what, you didn't know. Floating out the window, and you, not able
to stop it.

You wrapped your arms around me and buried your face in my chest while I
rocked you. After a long while, you spoke again. You said that you'd always
sat up all night alone after one of these things, afraid to go back to
sleep. I tilted your head up and kissed you and reassured you that you
weren't alone anymore, and you didn't have to be afraid to go back to sleep
because I'd be right there with you.

I held you against me, petting your hair, even after I was sure you were
asleep. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, hating CM and those other
bastards all over again. They were gone, but reminders of what they'd done
would always be with you.

If I could dig them all up and kill them again for what they've done to you,
Fox, I would. But since that's impossible, I'll just have to put all my
energies into trying to help you forget it. I love you baby, and I swear on
my life, I'll do everything I can to make you happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 15

**********

I knew you were impulsive, Fox, but *damn*, to just...show up on Skinner's
doorstep and *tell* him? I know we've discussed it before, and you said that
*if* he was to be told, it'd have to be by you alone, and I understood that.
He hates me so much there's no way he'd even *try* to be objective if I was
there. But I thought you'd at least let me know that you'd decided when you
were going to tell him.

You said that you would have told me, had you known that today was going to
be the day when you left the apartment, but it wasn't until you were in your
car and on your way home that you'd decided. Actually, you said you couldn't
even really call it a decision. You said that one minute you were driving
home, and the next, you found yourself turning onto the exit for Crystal
City.

You said he was shocked, to say the least. But you were friends, and he said
that as your friend, he'd accept your decision and would keep your personal
relationship completely separate from your working relationship. Meaning
that, in the office, it would be as if you never told him a thing. He also
told you that he didn't like me, and he *didn't* trust me, but if you did,
then that's what counted.

We've been damn lucky, Fox. Well, *you* have. You've got good friends. I'm
glad. I'd hate to think you'd lost any of them on my account.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 22

**********

Had Scully and her mother over for dinner, yesterday. You asked Skinner, but
he said he had other plans.

Maggie was happy to see that I could cook since you could just about boil
water without any major catastrophes. She said that maybe *now* you'd put on
a couple of pounds. She's so motherly, for lack of a better word. I really
like her.

I wish I had someone like her in my life. I mean, my mother was a good
woman, from what I could remember of her, but she was gone too quickly. She
died when I was thirteen, and from then on, my life was pretty much devoid
of any affection.

I'm sure as hell not going to sit here and blame the lack of a mother's love
for the way I've lived my life, I alone am responsible for the things I've
done. I guess I'm just saying that it would have been nice. Whatever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

July 28

**********

Been a long time.

I just find that I've got less and less time to write.

This was important though.

We were fighting about all the crap cluttering your apartment yesterday. I
was cleaning, telling you how it'd be so much easier if you didn't have so
much shit; you told me that if I felt I *had* to clean, just clean around it
and leave your shit alone, and the war was on. Our first argument.

We went at it about everything from all your books and files all over the
place, to lack of floor space, to the damn way you exist in darkness like a
damn vampire, to the disgusting condition of your oven.

We loved being together, didn't want to spend even one night apart if we
could help it, but being in such close quarters, practically tripping over
each other, was starting to get the better of us.

The argument wound down, and we spent the remainder of the day in virtual
silence, but as night fell, you finished the reports you were working on,
and you came over to sit next to me on the couch.

I ignored you and continued to read the paper, but I could feel the warmth
of your thigh pressing against mine. You rested your forehead on my shoulder
and wrapped your arms around my waist.

You: "Lexei..."

Me, trying to sound mad: "What?"

You: "I'm sorry."

Me: "Uh-huh."

You: "Really, I am. Don't be mad, okay?"

Me: "Okay."

You: "That wasn't very convincing."

Me, still looking at the paper: "It wasn't?"

You: "Come on, cut it out." You kissed my shoulder and took the paper away
from me. "I have an idea. Want to hear it?"

I looked at you. "Does it involve your bare ass and my belt?"

You gave me that damn pout that I can't resist and snuggled against me. "You
that mad?"

Me: "Maybe."

You: "Well, just listen to my idea. If you don't like it, then you can spank
me." You dropped a hand into my lap and stroked me. "Hell, you can spank me
even if you *do* like it."

I had to fight not to bend you over my knee. I kept my voice low and even.
"I might just do that."

You licked the side of my neck and told me your idea. "Let's buy a house."

You sure as hell know how to throw me off balance. "What?"

You repeated yourself, a little more insistently: "Let's buy a house."

Me: "You.....and *me*."

You: "No, me and Frohike."

Me: "Where the hell did you pull *that* idea from?"

You: "We're only apart when I'm out of town. It's crazy to keep two
apartments, and it would solve our *space* problem. We could find a nice big
place in the suburbs, but not *too* far from work..."

Me: "You're serious, aren't you?"

You: "Yeah...." And I could see the disappointment. "You think it's a bad
idea?"

Me: "I just...I 'm shocked, is all. You'd really like to do that?"

You: "I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't. But listen, if the idea
doesn't appeal to *you*..."

Me: "No! I mean, it *does*. I'd love for us to live together in our own
house."

The sparkle came back to your eyes. "I was worried for a second, there."

Me: "Sorry, you just caught me by surprise. Fox, this is serious stuff,
here. Do you know what you're saying to me?"

You: "I'm saying I want us to buy a house?"

Me: "*Yeah*, but in saying that, you're telling me that you want this to be
forever. You know, on and on, without end. You and me, permanently...at
least that's what *I'm* hearing."

You: "That's what you're hearing 'cause that's what I'm *saying*. When I
told you I loved you, Alex, it wasn't just for a week or a month. It was for
always. Can you handle that?"

Me: "Yeah." I leaned forward and kissed the tip of your nose, then your
mouth. "I can handle it fine."

You stared at me, your eyes so serious. "Do you want it?"

Me, just as serious: "More than I can tell you."

We sat, just staring at each other for a few seconds, then you swung your
leg over mine and straddled me. My cock was already half hard from when you
rubbed your hand over it earlier, and when you settled down on top of my
thighs, it jumped to attention. You brushed your mouth over mine before
covering it completely. Your mouth was so soft... and your tongue. My cock
started to throb, and all I could think about at that point was fucking you
silly, but I let you have the lead. For a little while anyway.

You continued to kiss me slowly, seducing me with your tongue, while you
started to unbutton my shirt. Your hands felt cool against my chest as they
rubbed up and down. You stopped at my nipples and brushed them with your
fingertips. The sensation vibrated through me, and I shivered. You asked me
if I was cold, and I just smiled and pulled you down for another kiss.

Your hands slid down to the waistband of my pants and undid the belt, then
the button, then pulled the zipper down. You ran your fingers over the bulge
in my underwear and smiled when I jumped and sucked in my breath. You got
off of my lap and spread my legs, then kneeled on the floor between them. My
heart rate tripled, just looking at you down there on the floor in front of
me, rubbing my thighs.

You hooked your fingers in the band and started to pull. I lifted my hips to
help you get them off faster. Once that was done, you pulled my underwear
off and looked down at my cock. You lifted a hand from my leg and touched
it. The touch was so gentle I could have almost imagined it. You traced the
big vein from beginning to end, then back again. You smiled every time it
lifted toward your mouth, but you just rested your cheek on my thigh and
continued to stroke it lightly with your fingers.

Me: "Baby?"

You: "Hmm?"

Me: "Please suck my cock."

You: "I will..."

Me: "When?"

You: "When I'm ready."

Me: "I think you're ready, now."

You: "You think so?"

Me: "I really do."

You licked a long trail up my thigh but stopped short of the mark.

Me: "That's good, but you need to move a little higher, okay?"

You: "I know where your cock is."

Me: "Really?"

You: "Yes."

Me: "Show me."

You: "Or what?"

I reached down and picked up my pants, pulling the belt from the loops. I
let the pants drop back onto the floor and doubled the belt up in my hand.
"Or this."

You stood up, undressed, then kneeled back in front of me. Your head went
back down, and you nipped at the inside of my thigh.

Me: "Fox..."

You, licking the area you'd just bitten: "What?"

Me: "You're being bad..."

You: "I know..."

You flinched and yelped as I surprised you with a stinging stroke of the
belt over the top of your ass.

Me: "Suck my cock, baby."

You rubbed your cheek against it but wouldn't take it into your mouth.

I slipped the belt under your chin and lifted your head so that I could see
your eyes. They had that beautiful, cloudy look to them

Me: "You want another one?"

You didn't answer, you just leaned forward, draping yourself over my legs,
and resting your head against my hip.

I arched up a little, pressing my cock harder into your chest, then I
brought the belt down again over your ass. You gasped and bit into my hip. I
gave you one more, then pushed against your shoulder so that you slid back a
little. I held your chin in my hand and forced you to look at me.

Me: "Suck me."

You hesitated, then lowered your head into my lap. My head fell back against
the cushion as you licked up and down my cock. You circled the head a few
times, then sucked me down your throat.

There's nothing like that first sensation of plunging into your mouth. I
mean, one second, I'm thinking about it, anticipating it, then the next, I'm
there, suddenly surrounded by beautiful, wet, warmth. Fucking fantastic.

Well, you were giving me what I wanted, so I gave you what *you* wanted. I
slid the leather over your ass, ran it between the crack, and shuddered as
your moans vibrated all around my cock. I smacked you again, and you
whimpered and sucked me a little harder.

I didn't know how much longer I could hold on. From the tightening in the
pit of my stomach, I'd guessed not too much longer. I gave you one more,
then I pushed you away from me and wrapped the belt around your cock, firmly
enough so that it wouldn't slip off, but not tight. I pulled you back to me
and pushed your head back down to my crotch.

Me: "Now suck me and don't stop until I tell you to."

When you settled into a comfortable rhythm, I began to pull on the belt.
Your head continued to bob up and down on my cock, but I could feel your
whole body begin to shake. I pulled a little harder and faster, and you
groaned and dug your fingers into my hips.

I could feel my orgasm building, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds
till I blew. I told you to suck me harder, and I pulled the belt with the
same amount of force. We came at almost the same time, but since you had a
mouthful of cock, only my screaming could really be heard.

You swallowed all that you could and continued to suck as you came all over
the front of the couch.

I let the belt go, then gently pushed you away from my cock and pulled you
up onto the couch. You fell onto your stomach across my legs and moaned
softly as I stroked your back and the little pink welts that had risen on
your ass.

Me: "You're such a freak."

You, mumbling into the seat cushion: "I am what you made me."

Me: "Don't blame *me*."

You flipped over onto your back and I cradled you in my arms. You winced and
shifted for a position that was a little easier on your ass, then you gave
me a tired smile. "I was actually crediting you."

I smiled back. "Oh."

You: "So. When are we going to start looking?"

Me: "For?"

You: "*House*..."

Me: "Oh! I don't know. When do you *want* to start?"

You: "Tomorrow?"

I laughed and gave you a kiss. Suggested that we get the hell to bed and
talk about it in the morning.

I don't know what talking we're going to do, other than figure out where to
start looking. I know that neither of us is going to change his mind.

House hunting.

You and me.

This ought to be interesting.

END
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