From Nicci73813@aol.com Sat Apr 05 13:06:25 1997
Subject: New Story: 'Unholy Act' NC 17 (1/2) by Nicole B.
From: Nicci73813@aol.com
--------

Unholy Act

by Nicole B.

nicci73813@aol.com

Please archive
Please forward to ATXC

No fourth season spoilers

NC 17

Mulder/Krycek Slash story
Rape story

Classification: SRA

Summary: Mulder runs afoul of the Cancerman and
his cronies while on an assignment, then finds
comfort from an unexpected source.

This is slash, folks. For the uninitiated, slash is fanfiction
that has to do with same-sex pairings. Definitely NC 17.
Minors turn back. Those of delicate sensibilities, go away.

Comments always welcomed, flames always ignored.

This is a rape story. This story takes place after the events
of Ascension and One Breath, but before Anasazi.

Disclaimer: Mulder, Krycek, Skinner, Luis Cardinal, Scully,
and any other interesting character who may appear in this
story is the property of Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions,
and FOX television. No infringement intended, please don't
sue, yadda yadda....

Unholy Act
by Nicole B.

(1/2)

Mulder shifted the bag of groceries to his hip and fumbled his keys
from his pocket, swearing under his breath as the packages he was
clutching threatened to slip from his grasp to the floor. It was the
end of another long, and from his perspective, mostly pointless day,
at the end of another long and pointless week. He was exhausted, and
looked forward to spending an evening alone, with nothing more
challenging planned than engaging in a little solitary sex to the
accompaniment of the new porn tape in one of the many packages
he held. Sex of the solitary sort seemed to be the *only* sort he
engaged in anymore, he thought ironically.

He was thinking about the case he and Scully were working on,
that of young children, all girls, all three years old, mysteriously
disappearing from their beds in the middle of the night while their
families slept. So far, all the girls had been returned after six
days, with no memory of where they had been, who had taken them or
what had been done to them. Mulder would be meeting Scully at their
office early the next morning to review some of the case files, even
though it was Saturday. Scully hadn't been pleased, but finally
capitulated. Mulder, as usual, was insistent.

Mulder finally got the right key into the lock and pushed the
door open with a relieved sigh. As it swung inward he suddenly
detected something, some slight movement from the corner of his
eye, a faint sound perhaps, and suddenly he knew that someone
with evil intentions was waiting for him.

He dropped his packages to the floor and reached for his gun,
dodging away from the presence he sensed more than saw, but
he was too slow, much too slow. A heavy blow crashed down
onto his temple, stunning him. Brightly colored lights exploded
behind his eyes, and he staggered. Another blow, and he was on
his knees without knowing how he got there. One more blow,
and he was flat on his face, consciousness spinning away from
him like water swirling down a drain.

**************************************************
When he came back to himself, he was still face down on the floor,
his arms wrenched behind his back and bound so tightly he thought
his shoulders would break. He blinked rapidly, and shook his head,
trying desperately to clear his muddled thoughts. Two pairs of
rough hands grabbed him, and for the first time Mulder realized
that there were two of them. He was rolled over, and found himself
looking into a pair of contemptuous brown eyes. He looked quickly
back and forth between the two men, from the small dark one with
the brown eyes, to the tall, dark haired, blue eyed man, dressed
incongruously in a neat blue pin striped suit. He looked like a
successful young banker. Mulder didn't recognize either man, but
the fact that they were not wearing any disguises and were making
no attempt to conceal their identities terrified him.

He opened his mouth to ask the men what they wanted, knowing even
before he could begin to utter the words how ridiculous the question
was. The smaller man seized the opportunity to shove a piece of cloth
roughly between his parted lips and into his mouth.

Mulder began to struggle, fighting to gain some sort of advantage,
knowing it was hopeless, his eyes filling with tears of rage at his
impotence. His assailants effortlessly quelled his attempts at self
defense, shoving him back down to the floor and tying his ankles
together.

When he was trussed like a turkey and utterly helpless, the men
stepped back and surveyed their work.

"You're not a very good listener, Mr. Mulder," the smaller mansaid,
his voice soft and dispassionate. Apparently he was the designated
speaker. Mulder sensed the menace behind the specious gentleness
of his voice, and shuddered uncontrollably. The voice held a faint
Spanish accent, which fit the man's looks. He was wiry and dark, with
a coldly expressionless face that made Mulder's skin crawl. He
stared at the Hispanic man with trepidation, wondering if he would
get out of this encounter alive, wondering stupidly why he hadn't
listened to Skinner's constant warnings to just leave things alone, to
stop constantly looking for trouble, wondering why he always had to
be such a hard ass, why he couldn't just give up and follow the party
line. He forced aside these thoughts born of panic and terror with
a flash of anger. He wasn't a quitter, and no late night visit from
the Cancerman's hired thugs would ever convince him to back down.

Mulder wondered suddenly if Scully would decide to come over,
maybe make one of her infrequent unannounced late night visits, and
incredibly he smiled around the gag thrust half down his throat at
the thought of her riding to his rescue in the nick of time, like the
cavalry.

A sudden kick to his ribs, and Mulder curled into a fetal ball,
retching. Once again he began struggling, but several more swift
kicks to his kidneys left him paralyzed with pain. He retched again,
and his heart began to pound with the fear that he would vomit into
the cloth in his mouth and choke to death.

After a time the beating stopped, and Mulder realized that the
Hispanic man was the one beating him. The tall man in the blue
suit just stood back and observed silently. So far, he'd hadn't
uttered a word. Mulder took the opportunity provided by the
respite in the battering to try to recover somewhat, gasping and
wheezing, tears of agony pouring down his cheeks.

"You are a foolish man, Mr. Mulder. Always pressing for answers to
questions you have no right to be asking," the Hispanic man said in
his low, soft, dead voice. "You were warned about questioning those
matters which have nothing to do with you. You are a hard man to
convince, Mr. Mulder. It seems you need persuasion......" and the
Hispanic Man resumed his beating, pounding his leather clad fists
into Mulder's face, his ribs, torturing him with blows, striking at
him with the relentless and detached violence of a snake, never giving
him a chance to recover his breath before striking at him again, until
Mulder was reduced to sobbing helplessly against the gag in his
mouth.

Suddenly the beating ended and the Hispanic man fell to his knees
beside Mulder, thrusting his face within inches of Mulder's. Mulder
could smell his sour body odor, could see the sweat shining on his
skin and hear his harsh breathing. Fingers began to stroke his
jawline, a touch grotesque in its mocking gentleness, shocking in its
unexpectedness. Mulder closed his eyes, his body screaming in protest
at the torment it had suffered, willing the experience to be just a
nightmare he would soon waken from.

Mulder thought if he could only hang on just a bit longer, he might
get out of this intact. The man had told him what he needed to be
told, hadn't he? Mulder had taken his beating and survived, and now
surely the men would leave. Wouldn't they? Mulder didn't *think*
the Cancerman would have ordered him to be killed, he didn't think
so, but maybe he was wrong, maybe the men *would* kill him, but if so,
then Mulder wished they would do it, just do it and get it over with,
anything as long as the small dark man stopped stroking Mulder's skin
that way, stopped blowing his fetid breath in Mulder's face....

Mulder gasped sharply when he felt the fingers leave his face and
began to fumble at his belt. The Hispanic Man was breathing
harshly, gasping and panting as he clutched at Mulder's zipper.

Mulder felt his tenuous hold on his emotions start to slip, and
terror began to overwhelm him. No, not this, he thought. Anything
but this....He fought ferociously, kicking out with his bound legs,
the movements sending spirals of anguish through his abused body.
The Hispanic Man paused only long enough to crash the butt of his
gun against Mulder's temple, and he felt awareness begin to slip
away. Yes, Mulder thought dimly, yes, unawareness in this case
would be a good thing, unawareness was more than welcome......

Dimly he heard a voice in the background. The tall man was speaking
for the first time.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his voice amazingly
seeming to be filled without outrage. "What the FUCK do you think
you're doing?!?"

"Shut up," the Hispanic man hissed. He continued to paw at Mulder's
trousers, roughly yanking down the zipper.

"The boss didn't say anything about this, man." The blue suitedman
said. His voice was filled with disgust. "This is too much, man.
You don't need to do this. We've accomplished what we came for,
now let's get the hell out of here."

"I'm not ready to go now." the Hispanic man hissed. "If youdon't
want to stay, then go. Go wait in the car. This won't take long." He
laughed harshly.

Mulder prayed against reason that the blue suited man was going to
help him, he obviously objected to what the Hispanic man was
planning to do, maybe he would stop him.... but then Mulder heard
footsteps and the front door of his apartment closing, and he realized
that he was completely alone with his nightmare.

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

The third member of the assault team sat quietly in the car, a sullen
and dark young man, wearing a leather jacket and gloves. He seethed
with quiet fury, enraged that he had been denied the opportunity to
accompany his usual partners into Mulder's apartment. He could only
guess at the reason why he had been refused the opportunity to
participate fully in this particular mission, but he figured that the
Cancerman and his cronies didn't want him coming into contact with
Mulder again. At least, not just yet. He wondered what they were
saving him for, where he would be forced to turn up next when Mulder
least expected to see him.

Alex Krycek heaved a heavy sigh. Luis had driven the car over here
tonight. Krycek rarely got to drive, he wasn't sure why. Even when
he and Mulder had been partners, he'd rarely gotten to drive. No one
seemed to trust him behind the wheel, and he wasn't sure why. He knew
he was a good driver. It was unfair, really..... he shook his head,
knowing his thoughts were rambling. He started with surprise and
automatically reached for his weapon at the sound of the car's driver
side door being yanked open.

Krycek relaxed a bit when he saw that it was only his tall companion.
He looked around. "Where's Luis?"

"Still up there," the man in the blue suit replied tersely.

"Why? Was there a problem?" Krycek could feel his anxiety rising.
Something was wrong.

"Yeah, there's a problem, man. Nobody ever told me that Luis was a
fuckin' faggot." He snorted with disgust.

"What are you talking about?'

"He's up there now..... fucking that guy," the tall man spit thewords
out distastefully. "I swear to God, I never knew that about him. I'd
have never trusted....." the rest of his sentence was cut off when
Krycek brought the barrel of his semi-automatic weapon crashing
down on the back of his head. He slumped over in the seat,
unconscious.

As quickly as he dared, Krycek got out of the car and begin making
his way up to Mulder's apartment. He longed to run, pound wildly
along the sidewalk and into the building, up the stairs, he didn't
have time to wait for the elevator, but he dared not do anything
which would draw unwanted attention. As he made his way up to
apt #42, his thoughts whirled wildly. "Let it be okay," he prayed.
"Let it be okay, let me be in time, let it be okay...." the thoughts
were like a mantra, keeping panic away.

And then he was at the door to Mulder's apartment, pushing it open
and stepping inside. He got there just in time to hear the Hispanic
man saying something to Mulder. "You should learn to listen better,
Mr. Mulder," the man was saying tauntingly. "You listen, likea good
boy, and you do what you are told, and the bad things don't happen to
you, you know?"

Krycek could see Mulder lying on the floor, bound and gagged, his
trousers bunched around his ankles. He wasn't making a sound.
Krycek heard his already pounding blood begin to roar dully in his
ears. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded stupidly.

Cardinal whirled, surprised. "What the hell are you doin' up here,
man? You were supposed to stay in the car."

"I asked you a question, Luis. What did you do?"

Cardinal laughed harshly. "I handled him, man. I handled him good.
Hey, I couldn't help myself. You used to work with him, man. You've
read his file, you know what he looks like, you know he's gay. You
know he's a real nice piece of ass, don't you? Did you ever find out
how nice first hand?" Cardinal laughed again. "Hey, man, I didn't
do anything wrong. The boss only cared that we put him out of
commission, so I put him out of commission. He won't be dating
anyone any time soon."

Krycek felt his rage well up in his belly, felt his head filling with
red fire. He felt nauseated, and was truly afraid for a moment
that he was going to vomit. He gulped several times, forcing the
bile down. A blood red haze was filling his vision, blinding him
to all but his rage. He closed the gap between himself and
Cardinal in a space of a second with animal-like quickness and
grace.

Before Cardinal could react, Krycek grabbed his shoulders and drove
one knee hard into his crotch. As Cardinal doubled over in pain,
Krycek slammed the knee into his face. He shoved Cardinal hard, and
the man staggered back. Though gouting blood from his broken nose,
he managed to gasp, "I hope you know, Krycek, you've just fucked
yourself good."

Krycek hesitated only a moment. He knew that what he was about to
do would mean the end of his career, such as it was, with the
Cancerman's outfit. From this moment on he would be on the run,
alone and constantly watching his back, but he didn't care. This
animal had hurt the only person he had ever cared about, the only
person he ever had allowed himself to love, the person he'd been
forced to abandon, and now this mindless beast would pay for what
he'd done, would pay for everything Krycek had lost. Krycek pulled
his weapon from the holster at the small of his back and pointed it
at Cardinal's face. The Hispanic Man's eyes widened, then narrowed
in hatred.

"See you in Hell, Luis," Krycek said, and shot Luis Cardinal right
between the eyes, watching as a small dark hole appeared on his
forehead. The silenced gun made little sound. <There's so little
blood,> Krycek thought calmly. <I'd have thought there would be
more....> He watched with grim satisfaction as the Hispanic man
fell to the carpet with a light thump, watched as the light of life
faded from his eyes, leaving behind only a corpse with a very
surprised look on its face.

Krycek made his way swiftly over to Mulder's side. He'd thought
from the lack of sound or movement, Mulder might have been
unconscious. He was surprised to see that his eyes were open, and
looking right into Krycek's own with full awareness of what was going
on around him.

Krycek gently pulled the cloth from Mulder's mouth. "Mulder, just
lie still, I'm going to call for help. You're going to be fine, just
hang on."

"Why?" Mulder's voice was raspy, and the sound of it wounded
Krycek to the core. He didn't know what Mulder was asking; why was
Krycek helping him now, why had he shot Cardinal, why was he here
with these men in the first place. He didn't know, and at the moment,
it really didn't matter.

Krycek dragged the afghan off Mulder's couch and draped it over him,
then reached into Mulder's pocket and pulled out his phone to punch
in 911. He tried to put out of his mind the sight of his former
partner lying trussed and helpless on the floor, his pants crumpled at
his ankles, his pale buttocks smeared with blood.

When the 911 operator answered, Krycek said urgently, "Send help!
Please, we've had an accident here, send an ambulance right away!"
He reeled off Mulder's address twice, then hung up before the
dispatcher could ask his name. Rising quickly, he strode to where
Cardinal's body lay on the floor, and with easy strength he picked up
the smaller man and threw him over his shoulder. He turned to
Mulder, as if to say something, but then seemed to think better of it.
Then he was gone.

The minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly. Mulder struggled to free
himself, without success. His bonds were too tight, and he was too
wounded. Finally, just as he heard the faint wail of distant sirens,
he lapsed into full unconsciousness.
*********************************************************

"Sir, it's Scully. I've just received a call from the police. Agent
Mulder has been attacked in his apartment. He's at Georgetown
Memorial. I'll meet you there."

"What's his condition, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked.

"It seems that he's going to survive, Sir. The officer said any
further information will have to wait until we get to the hospital."

***********************************************************
The man with the cigarette leaned back in his chair and rocked gently,
making the leather squeak softly.

"What is Agent Mulder's current condition?"

"He's been taken to Georgetown Memorial. The nurse I spoke to said
he's currently listed in serious but stable condition."

Cigarette smoke in the air. "Excellent. It is imperative that this
mission succeed. Our objective for these young girls must continue to
be implemented as projected. Now, what about the whereabouts of your
erstwhile partner Mr. Krycek?"

"Unknown, Sir. But he won't get away." The tall man, still wearing
his blue suit, narrowed his icy blue eyes. He'd awakened in the car
several blocks from Mulder's apartment with a massive headache and
the dead body of his partner in the back seat. He was not a happy
man. "We have two teams out looking for him, Sir. We'll find him."

Soft exhalation. "I expect no less. You can go now, I'll be in
contact."

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

"How's he doing?" Skinner asked.

Scully looked around at the sound of her superior officer's voice.
"Unknown at this time, Sir. I'm still waiting for the doctor."

"Mr. Skinner?" Skinner and Scully turned to see a very serious
looking young man in blue surgical scrubs looking at them. <He
doesn't look old enough to be a doctor> Scully thought idiotically,
forgetting for a moment that neither did she. Her heart was
pounding with anxiety, and she placed one hand firmly on her
chest, over her heart, in an effort to calm herself. She wished she
could show the kind of equanimity that Skinner projected, though
she knew it was only a front. He was as concerned as she.

"I'm Skinner. This is Special Agent Scully, Agent Mulder's partner."

The doctor nodded politely and began speaking without preamble.
"Dr. Walt Willis. Agent Mulder is stable at this time, but his
condition is serious. He has suffered a very cruel and methodical
beating, but he will recover." The doctor hesitated, and removed his
wire framed glasses. He rubbed the reddened bridge of his nose and
sighed. "There is something else, however. Agent Mulder was raped.
There are clear signs of sexual assault."

Scully felt as though all the air in the room had been sucked away,
and she was trying to breathe in a vacuum. The floor tilted slowly,
and she watched it, fascinated. She thought that perhaps she was
going to faint.

"Agent Scully, are you all right?" Skinner's firm and businesslike
voice brought her back. She realized that he was gripping her arm,
and the doctor was looking at her with undisguised concern.

"I'm fine, Sir." She drew a deep breath and straightened her
shoulders with an effort. "Fine, I'm fine now." She looked at
Skinner and saw that the news had hit him very hard as well, he
was very pale beneath his usual dark tan. Scully patted the hand
still gripping her arm comfortingly. Skinner cleared his throat.

"Has he said anything yet, given you a description?"

"He hasn't been able to tell us too much, Mr. Skinner. He has told
us there were two assailants, one a Hispanic man in his forties, the
other a Caucasian man in his thirties, but hasn't been able to give
us a detailed description of either man as yet."

"What is the nature...... how is he.... will he be......" Skinner
faltered, and pressed his lips together in a grim line, wincing
painfully. He could not bring himself to ask.

"There is every reason to believe that Agent Mulder will make a full
recovery, Mr. Skinner, Ms. Scully. A full physical recovery. Of
course, a rape kit has been performed and blood has been taken from
him so that he can be tested for infections."

"May I see his chart? I'm a medical doctor," Scully said.

"Of course." Dr. Willis handed it over. "Just leave it atthe
nurse's desk when you're finished." He shook hands with both of them
and with an admonition to call him if they needed anything at all,
strode off down the hospital corridor.

Scully leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted, and began
flipping though Mulder's chart. She felt very old, and very jaded.
Skinner stood silently next to her, waiting. Neither of them said a
word. Finally Scully cleared her throat. "You know, Sir, while I
was waiting for you and the doctor to arrive, I was thinking about
Agent Mulder's attack. It was my original belief that this attack was
a profession hit, Sir."

"And now you've reconsidered that opinion?"

"Well, I'm not sure. From reading Agent Mulder's chart, it's obvious
that the beating he suffered was designed to produce injuries with a
maximum potential for pain and temporary disability, without any
lasting effects. It would seem that someone wanted to put Agent
Mulder out of commission for a time, without incapacitating him
permanently."

"But......?"

"But sexual assault really doesn't fit the profile of a professional
hit. It is my opinion, however, that these assailants were sent by a
person or persons unknown to do a job, but then one of them was......
carried away by a violent impulse to commit a sexual crime."

"I'm assigning a guard to Agent Mulder, Scully. I'm also assigning
four agents to his case. I'd like for you to consult with them in
their search for this perp, give them whatever information or help
they might need. You'll keep me informed."

"Of course, Sir."

Skinner wheeled abruptly and strode away, seemingly unable to get
away fast enough.


End part one


From Nicci73813@aol.com Sat Apr 05 13:06:06 1997
Subject: New Story: 'Unholy Act' NC 17 (2/2) by Nicole B.
From: Nicci73813@aol.com
--------

Unholy Act (2/2)

by Nicole B.

nicci73813@aol.com

Please archive
Please forward to ATXC

No fourth season spoilers

NC 17

Mulder/Krycek Slash story
Rape story

Classification: SRA

Summary: Mulder runs afoul of the Cancerman and
his cronies while on an assignment, then finds
comfort from an unexpected source.

This is slash, folks. For the uninitiated, slash is fanfiction
that has to do with same-sex pairings. Definitely NC 17.
Minors turn back. Those of delicate sensibilities, go away.

Comments always welcomed, flames always ignored.

This is a rape story. This story takes place after the events
of Ascension and One Breath, but before Anasazi.

Disclaimer: Mulder, Krycek, Skinner, Luis Cardinal, Scully,
and any other interesting character who may appear in this
story is the property of Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions,
and FOX television. No infringement intended, please don't
sue, yadda yadda....

Unholy Act
by Nicole B.

NC 17

(2/2)

The hospital released Mulder after a week. He wanted to go home, but
Scully convinced him to come and stay with her for a while. She
didn't think he was ready to face going back to the place where his
violation had taken place, and in fact she planned to try to convince
him to move as soon as he was feeling stronger.

For the first week after his release from the hospital, Scully stayed
home with him, bringing him soup and magazines and ginger ale, playing
cards with him and watching monster movies on the sci fi channel. At
the beginning of the second week, he convinced her that he had to go
home, and she had to return to work.

Mulder knew she was only doing what she was doing out of concern, but
he couldn't sack out on her couch forever. And though he would never
have told her, her constant presence was starting to wear on his
nerves. He needed some time alone to think, to think about why his
enemy, the man who helped abduct Scully and who was obviously
working with the two men who broke into his apartment and attacked
him, would then arrive suddenly and shoot one of them. He simply
couldn't understand, and he knew he could never rest until he made
sense of the senseless.

Gradually, he healed. Physically, at least. After two weeks
recovering at home, he returned to work. Scully treated him the same
as always, for which he was enormously grateful. He tried to avoid
his other, well meaning co-workers, the ones who tried awkwardly to
give him their sympathy at his attack. He much preferred the ones who
avoided *him*, because they didn't know what to say to him. After a
week back at work, he was left mostly, blessedly alone.

One night a month after the attack, he was asleep on his own familiar
couch when he heard the footsteps on the polished wooden floors. He
came awake with a start, wondering wildly if it could be Scully,
but he knew it wasn't. He knew these soft steps were not hers, these
footfalls belonged to a man.

Mulder sat up suddenly, clutching the afghan that covered him, his
heart pounding wildly. The figure across from him froze in its
tracks, and for a moment they just stared at each other.

Mulder spoke first. "Krycek! I never expected to see you again."
He struggled to rise from the couch. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you. I wanted to make sure you were all right."

Mulder stared at him. "Why do you care about how I'm doing?"

Krycek crossed the floor to stand in front of Mulder, trying not to
show how it hurt him when the other man flinched slightly at his
approach. "Please believe me, Mulder, I didn't come here to hurt you.
It has never been my intention to do anything to hurt you. I.... I've
always cared about what happens to you."

Mulder glared at him bitterly. "You care about me. That's why you
gained my trust and then betrayed me, right? You care, so you gave
Scully to them, led Duane Barry to her, let him sacrifice her. Then
you killed him so he couldn't tell what he knew."

"I didn't kill Duane Barry, Mulder. And I didn't know what they had
planned for Scully, I swear. I didn't know that she would be taken
like that."

"I see. So you're saying ignorance really is bliss, Krycek? As long
as you don't know what's going on, you're excused from responsibility,
is that right? Well, of course. I understand. You didn't know.
That excuses your betrayal of your oath to the bureau, your betrayal
of the trust placed in you..... your betrayal of *my* trust in you!"

Krycek sat down beside Mulder on the couch. "I never meant to betray
you, Mulder, I swear. I never meant to hurt you at all." He sighed
deeply, and Mulder took a close look at him for the first time. He
looked ragged and weary and frightened. He looked like a man on the
run.

"Where have you been, Krycek?"

"Here and there," Krycek smiled ironically. "After the....afterI killed
Luis, I left town. I've been staying with some....friends. But it
was time to move on. Cancerman was getting too close, and I
couldn't let them endanger themselves any longer by sheltering me.
So I'm going to leave the country, tonight. I just, I had..... I
guess I wanted to see you one last time before I left, see with my own
eyes that you are okay."

Mulder stared at him in disbelief. He shook his head at the
absurdity of it, realizing the insanity of hearing these things from a
man he had sworn to kill on sight.

"I still don't understand *why* you're here, Krycek. Why do you care
how I am?" he asked again.

Krycek dropped his gaze to the floor. "I have something to tell you,
Mulder. Something I think you need to know. Are you aware that the
man you call Cancerman and his cronies know that you are gay?"

Mulder drew in a sharp breath. "No...." he whispered. "No,you're
lying, Krycek. I mean, I'm not gay, they couldn't know it, because it
isn't true."

"Don't bother denying it to me, Mulder. I know it's true, and so do
they."

"If that's true, why hasn't Cancerman ever tried to use it againstme?
He'd never pass up the opportunity to use information like that to
discredit me."

"He's never used it because you've always been too discreet, Mulder.
You are too careful. He's tried to set you up before, to get
ammunition to use against you, but you never fell for it." Krycek
took a deep breath. "Why do you think they assigned me to be your
partner?"

Mulder stared at him. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying Cancerman had me assigned me to you to seduce you and
discredit you, Mulder. I was supposed to get in your pants, set you
up to be videotaped having sex with me, so that he would have
something to use against you. But then things started to spiral out
of control. Duane Barry came along and took those people hostage, and
from that point on, the plan changed. Cancerman decided that he'd
found a better way to get to you, by abducting your partner. He
thought that you would associate Scully's disappearance with your
sister's, and break down. He's always thought you were mentally
unstable, and would crack under enough pressure. But I swear, Mulder,
I didn't know what he was planning to do with Scully until it was too
late. He never told me more than he thought I absolutely had to know.
I'm just a grunt, Mulder, I'm not in the loop."

"But you kept working for him. Even after you found out what he was
doing, you still kept working for him. Why?"

"What choice did I have? After Duane Barry died, Cancerman knew he
could never risk letting me take that lie detector test. He pulled me
off my assignment to you, and once I was out of the FBI, I was tied
to him. He would never have let me go. I was just trying to survive,
Mulder. I'm still just trying to survive."

Mulder looked at him hard. "So you are on the run from your friends
now, right? They're a little pissed off that you killed your partner,
actually the wrong partner, I guess, and now they want to kill you,"
he smiled grimly, though the thought actually gave him no pleasure.
Then his eyes narrowed. "Your slimy black ops buddies, with all
their many resources, have been looking for you for the past month,
and they haven't been able to find you? That's a little hard to
believe, Krycek."

Krycek smiled ironically. "Not hard at all, Mulder. A rat can always
find a place to hide. And you're right, they are pissed, as you say,
and they definitely want to kill me, but the plan was never to kill
*you*, Mulder. And the plan certainly was not to..... hurt you like
Luis did. He was always a loose cannon, screwing up, making
mistakes..... I tried to tell them all something like this was
eventually going to happen, but they wouldn't listen to me. Like I
said, I'm just a nobody in this operation."

Mulder stared at him. "Why?" he asked, and Krycek shuddered,
remembering that that was exactly what Mulder had said to him
that night, the only word he'd spoken. "Why would you do such a
thing, kill your associate? You must have known what the
ramifications would be."

Krycek stood and began pacing. "I knew, Mulder. I knew all too well,
believe me. But I couldn't bear the idea of what he'd done to you.
The son of a bitch was boasting about it, and he would have continued
to do it. I couldn't let him get away with it, hurting you and
*bragging* about it. I knew that he'd never be punished by the law
for what he did, Cancerman is too powerful. The police would never
had found Luis, he'd have been protected. I had to take care of him
myself."

"Krycek, you still haven't answered my question. *Why* do you care?
Why do you care how I feel, why do you care if he bragged about
what he did to me?"

"Because I love you, Mulder," Krycek said simply, finally. "Ialways
have. That's why Cancerman assigned me to you. He knew you were
gay, he knew I am too, and he knew I cared about you, that I'd been
wanting to meet you since I was in the academy. He thought that if
I was your partner, I could play the hero worshipping role to the
hilt, earn your trust, and make you fall for me. He didn't count on
me falling in love with you, though. He didn't, and neither did I.
Even before Duane Barry, I'd already decided I wasn't going to do what
he'd told me to do, set you up. I just couldn't. I couldn't hurt you
like that."

He stopped pacing and moved again to sit beside Mulder on the couch.
Mulder was stunned into silence. He couldn't believe what he was
hearing, the things this man was telling him couldn't possibly be
true. He'd sensed when they were working together that perhaps
Krycek was gay, and in fact had begun to consider acting on the
belief. He had been attracted to Krycek, he really didn't want to
think about exactly *how* strongly attracted he had been. He'd been
just beginning to really trust Krycek, just begun to think that maybe
he could make a move, make sure of his partner's attitudes about
male/male relationships, when he'd disappeared. Events had proved
Mulder right for not being too quick to trust Krycek, at that time.
But what about now?

But Krycek seemed sincere. Mulder couldn't deny that the man had
the haunted look of a pursued animal, he reeked of fear and had the
haggard look of someone who hadn't had a night's sleep without having
one eye open for quite some time.

And even more than that, he couldn't deny what Krycek had done for
him that night. At first he'd felt rage that Krycek had killed
Cardinal, denying Mulder the chance for his own vengeance, but he'd
come to realize that what Krycek had said was true, Cardinal was too
well protected. Mulder would never have had the chance to kill him
himself.

Mulder was in a quandary. He didn't know what he wanted. Yes, he
did.... he wanted comfort. He wanted reassurance. He wanted someone
who cared about him to hold him, and tell him that everything was
going to be okay, just as Krycek reassured him that night, before
calling 911. He shook his head in amazement. Was Krycek what he
wanted? That couldn't be, it was too crazy. He hated Krycek...
didn't he? The aching pain in his heart was becoming to much to bear.

Krycek sat beside him quietly, looking into Mulder's face with a
faraway, wistful look in his eyes. Hesitantly he raised his hand and
touched his fingertip to Mulder's cheek, trailing it down, following
the curve of Mulder's strong jawline, feeling the roughness of
beard stubble. He drew his finger up to his mouth, that mouth he'd
yearned to kiss for so long, feeling the soft and pliant flesh of that
pouting lower lip. "Mulder..... I'm leaving, tonight. One way or
another, you'll never have to see me again. Most likely, pretty
soon no one will be seeing me, ever again. I can't run forever. I'm
so tired..... it's just a matter of time before they catch up with me,
and I'm prepared for that. But I just couldn't leave without seeing
you, without doing this....."

Slowly, giving Mulder ample time to stop him if he so desired, he
leaned forward and kissed Mulder, full on the mouth, sealing his lips
over the other man's, gently cupping his face as he held him there,
as they both held their breath. Krycek expected Mulder to push him
away, and was more than astonished when he did not. He did not
expect Mulder's mouth to open under his, nor did he expect him to
allow Krycek to begin a slow, gentle, gratifying exploration of his
mouth. Krycek slowly moved his arms around Mulder's firm body,
wincing a bit when he realized that Mulder, whose lithe body scarcely
had an ounce to spare, had lost weight. He hugged him gently, then
released his hold.

Krycek broke the kiss and rested his head on Mulder's shoulder. "I'm
going to miss you, Mulder," he said simply. He tried to rise from the
couch, but Mulder pulled him back down.

"Where are you going, Krycek?" he asked, his voice husky.

Krycek was at a momentary loss for words. "I'm, I have to go now,
Mulder. I got what I came for, assurance that you really are going
to be all right, and, well, call it one last kiss, for old times sake."
He smiled sadly.

"Who says that has to be the last kiss?" Mulder asked, and Krycek
caught his breath, staring into those startling hazel eyes, the pupils
now expanded to take over the iris, dilated with desire.

Mulder put his hand at the back of Krycek's head and urged him
forward, reclaiming his mouth with a desperate hunger that surprised
them both. Krycek urged Mulder closer, and they clung to each other
almost frantically.

Krycek slid his hands up and down Mulder's ribs, down to his
waist where he slipped his hand underneath Mulder's tee shirt to feel
soft warm skin beneath the cotton. Mulder convulsed, as if the very
touch of Krycek's fingertips sent electricity coursing through him.

Krycek began gently tugging at Mulder's tee shirt, urging it off of
him. Mulder cooperated sluggishly, his movements almost dreamy.
Krycek felt a momentary stab of foreboding, wondering if what he
was doing could be harmful to Mulder's recovery, but he didn't think
he could stop. Mulder wasn't resisting, and Krycek had no intentions
of hurting him.

Krycek pulled the shirt up and over Mulder's head and tossed it onto
the floor. He pulled Mulder toward him again for another kiss, tasting
his lips, his mouth..... At first the kiss was delicate, slow and
sensuous. As their passion rose he pulled at Mulder's lips, nibbling
and sucking them, finally biting them gently. Mulder timorously put
his arms around Krycek, trembling violently as he clung to the man.
Krycek held him tightly, stroking his back and whispering nonsense in
his ear.

Gradually Mulder calmed, and Krycek continued his seduction of
his former partner, moving his mouth down Mulder's chest and
latching onto a hard, brown nipple, suckling gently. Mulder's hands
slipped beneath Krycek's shirt to caress his warm skin, then moving
them upwards, tentatively exploring Krycek's nipples before rending
the shirt open and tossing it away. They kissed hungrily, as Mulder
continued to push Krycek back against the couch cushions, moving
against him so that both their bodies slid slowly down to lie on the
couch, with Mulder on top of Krycek, still kissing. Mulder was
using his tongue like a weapon, thrusting it into Krycek's mouth and
playing with his tongue like it was some particularly clever and
amusing toy. Krycek's erection was screaming for attention. He was
acutely aware of sensation of their bodies grinding together, their
bare sweaty chests sliding against each other, their erections
rasping against each other through their jeans.

Mulder reached underneath himself to unzip his jeans and push them
down, along with his boxers. He slowly unbuckled Krycek's belt and
unbuttoned his jeans, slowly drawing them down over Krycek's narrow
hips. He wore no underwear. Mulder lay back down atop Krycek, and
together they used their feet to push their jeans the rest of the way
off and onto the floor. Mulder ran his hands over the body of the man
beneath him, his lover, his enemy. Down the muscular body, down the
smooth hairless chest, the softly rounded tummy, the line of feathery
dark hair arrowing to Krycek's groin.

Mulder sat up, straddling Krycek's knees. He leaned forward, trailing
his tongue up the inside of Krycek's thigh until it reached the base of
Krycek's erection, where Mulder nuzzled the fine fuzzy hair covering
Krycek's balls. Mulder began gently fondling Krycek's cock, running
his fingers languidly up and down the swollen shaft. Slowly he ran
his tongue up the shaft of Krycek's cock, placing his lips around the
head, first stroking it with his tongue, then swirling his tongue
around the head, lapping at it like an ice cream cone, all the while
still gripping the shaft with his hand. Lying underneath him, Krycek
realized that Mulder had cleanly taken complete control of the
situation, but Krycek was perfectly happy to let him keep it.

Mulder licked the tender underside of Krycek's cock just behind the
crown, pulling the cock deeper into his mouth, and applying his tongue
with more ardor. Krycek was beginning to make sounds, soft keening
sounds at first that quickly grew in urgency and volume and made
Mulder squirm with excitement. Mulder continued to stroke Krycek's
blazing hot, rigid member, encircling it with his fist and firmly
stroking the entire length.

Krycek whimpered piteously, and pushed his hips upward, thrusting
desperately into Mulder's hand. He uttered a long, agonized moan.
"Please," he whispered. "Suck me, Mulder, please finish me."No
sooner had he asked than he was engulfed in wet heat, with Mulder's
talented lips squeezing the bittersweet drops of precum from his
manhood. Krycek thrust forward, keening, his fists gripping the
afghan that Mulder had been using as a cover, his toes curling, his
head thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of his head. Mulder's
strong fingers and his shameless tongue had driven him to the point
of no return. The keening turned to a harsh groan, and Krycek's body
stiffened, his cock swelled in Mulder's mouth, and he spilled his
seed into his lover's mouth with a choking cry.

Mulder continued to milk the twitching, softening organ until Krycek
squirmed away, he'd had enough. Mulder was eager for his own
release, and stretched out to lay his body over Krycek's. He
reclaimed Krycek's mouth, kissing him urgently as he ground his
erection into Krycek's naked hip.

Krycek slid his hands down Mulder's spine, stroking and caressing him
lovingly and encouragingly. Mulder thrust against him wildly, his
hard shaft sliding up and down Krycek's abdomen, prodding him
insistently, rubbing against his sweat slicked skin, writhing against
him. Krycek hung on for dear life while Mulder took him on the ride
of a lifetime, feeling him bucking wildly against him, hips grinding
against hips, thrusting his rock hard cock against Krycek's belly
until he heard Mulder's cry, and felt the thick hot liquid spurt out
to cover his stomach and he knew Mulder had come.

For a long moment they just lay there, clasped tightly in each other's
arms. Krycek dimly became aware that Mulder was crying. At some
point the wall of psychological self defense he'd built had come
crashing down. He was ashamed, and tried to hide the tears from
Krycek, but Krycek wouldn't permit his deceit. He caught Mulder under
the chin and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Tell me what I can do," he said simply.

"Nothing." Mulder laughed harshly. "Nothing, Krycek. I guessyou've
done enough." Mulder didn't see the look of pain that crossed
Krycek's face.

"Well, then, if you don't need me, I'd better be going. Don't liketo
stay in any one place too long, you know. They'll be looking."

"Don't go," Mulder blurted, surprising both of them.

"They'll be looking for me, Mulder. Staying here will put you in
danger."

Mulder rose from the couch. "Then we won't stay here. We'll leave,
go to a hotel somewhere until we figure out what to do."

"Mulder, I think I've missed something here. What are you saying?
You want us to run away together?" Krycek actually laughed, the idea
was ridiculous.

"Not permanently, no. But until we can find some way to protect you
from Cancerman, get you back into civilian life where you'll be safe,
then we have to stay on the move, while we figure out which course to
take. I have a stake in this, Krycek. I was beaten on orders from
above. Someone didn't want me digging too deeply into something
sensitive, and I think I know what it is. It must have something to
do with the abducted baby girls, and I'm going to find out what. Grab
those files there and my laptop. I'm going to pack a few things, and
then we're out of here."

Fifteen minutes later, two FBI agents, former and current, armed and
determined and even a bit dangerous, were speeding down the Interstate
to find a non descript motel in a neighboring state, where they could
hopefully ditch the MIB's on their tails long enough to figure out how
to keep Krycek alive in the long run, and how to punish the man most
responsible for Mulder's rape.

THE END????

to be continued..........

comments to:

nicci73813@aol.com