: S, Scully/Krycek
Rating: PG-13 for S, L, and V
Distribution: Any ol' where
Disclaimer: Dana, Alex, and Fox belong to CC, 1013 Productions,
Television. Other characters mentioned herein are mine, nyah nyah.
Special thanks: To my Vark for the opinions, and to Megan Reilly
Ripley of RATales for being interested.
NOTE: The first part (which would be good to read before this
the Devil Series can be found at my website:
Summary: Scully's wild roadtrip with Alex Krycek continues...in
"The Devil's Silk" (1/1)
Scully kicked the blanket from her bare legs at 3 a.m. and finally
up trying to fall asleep.
Nighttime restlessness was uncommon for her; she had to blame
it on her
mind being occupied with matters other than a good night's rest.
her mind and...other parts that hadn't been occupied in six years.
Perhaps the events over the past few days would cause insomnia
anyone, she thought, especially if they had experienced what she
going through right now.
It was doubtful, though.
Were there any other FBI agents out there who had run off with
and mysterious leather-clad rogue?
She couldn't think of any, but if there were, she'd bet money
all men. She giggled softly. Right now, she was in a class by
She sighed, and turned over to face the window. The blinds remained
partially open, allowing the streetlight to reflect through the
of rain running down the window. Odd shadows danced across the
room walls, shifting and swirling in time to the cascading water.
Ever since she was a child, Scully could recall rainstorms lulling
to sleep. Tonight all this one was doing was keeping her awake.
She stretched slightly, realizing after she did so that she was
extremely tense and uncomfortable.
It certainly wasn't the bed.
Good Lord, it was king-sized with red silk sheets. And the hotel
Alex had chosen, she noted, was as spacious and well-furnished
apartment overlooking Central Park West. There was a living room
fireplace, and a huge bathroom covered in mirrors and Italian
The bedroom suite itself was enormous--this was no Motel 6.
She definitely was not used to such opulence, and she didn't think
was either. But he was trying to impress her, which she found
sweet. A man who she had heard was a cold-blooded killer made
concierge return with two-dozen fresh roses after Alex decided
petals in the room weren't fragrant enough.
Scully was drowning in luxury for the first time in her life.
She had a
huge bed, an enormous hotel suite, and, according to Alex, anything
"Katie," he had told her, "tonight, anything is
"Anything?" she had purred, curled up in the red silk
of the bedcovers.
"Well," he admitted, "for tonight only. Tomorrow
we get the back seat of
my Cadillac again. We need to keep moving."
"I can take it. I'm as good in the back seat as I am in the
she teased. "And you may regret your generosity for tonight.
is mine, I'm going to take it...anything and *everything*."
That conversation, she realized, was over 3 hours ago. They came
air and glasses of champagne at one a.m., and then she continued
advantage of Alex's generosity until...
Now she understood! The whole reason she was restless and jumpy
because it had been hours since she last had any...Alex.
She rolled over, but he wasn't next to her in bed. Then Scully
remembered, to her disappointment, that Alex told her he was going
get ice for the champagne.
When was that?
Her memory was a little foggy since those last toasts of bubbly.
a little drunk, in fact, because she and Alex finished two bottles
after Scully received the phone call.
They had just begun to try out the silk sheets--to test the thread
quality, Alex had said, since he *was* paying a fortune for this
room--when Scully's cell phone rang.
Scully told him she wanted to get rid of it somewhere along the
but Alex suggested she hold on to it. He may have been expecting
The conversation on the phone, she recalled, was rather short.
"Yes, Mulder, it's me."
That was when Alex had grabbed the phone from her hand.
"Mulder, you know who this is, and if you open your mouth
once while I'm
talking, I hang up. Understand?" The pause had been been
a quick one.
"Good. Now pay attention, because what I have to say should
realize that coming after her is pointless...she made a decision,
this time she didn't do it for the Bureau, or for her career,
for you, Mulder. She did it for herself, and she left with *me*.
Katherine Scully followed her *heart*."
With that, Alex hit the END button and plunged the phone into
champagne ice bucket.
Scully smiled to herself when she remembered what Alex had said
with that evil grin of his: "I'm still not quite sure about
There was still much to learn about Alex Krycek.
Actually, there was *everything* to learn about him, and Scully
convinced herself to stay on the defensive, no matter what her
She was confused, because for the first time in her life--as Alex
said to Mulder--she followed her emotions instead of common sense.
Now that she thought about it, aside from the short conversation
had about Alex's trip to Bureau headquarters to get her, he hadn't
much. He did say he wanted Scully at his side when colonization
but he never explained why. "I need you with me" were
the words he used.
Was it love? Lust? Simple companionship? Or was it another reason?
She couldn't be sure.
From their wild trip in the Cadillac and the incident on the highway,
the champagne now buzzing around her brain and sex between silk
she definitely wasn't thinking clearly.
But perhaps that was a good thing.
God, she was never getting back to sleep tonight. She couldn't
advantage of it, because Alex wasn't back yet. How long did it
get ice, anyway?
Scully closed her eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to settle
thoughts. Slowly, she let it out, and tried controlling her breathing
relax. She really needed to talk to Alex about his intentions.
breath in, hold, then out. Was she doing the right thing? In,
sheets felt wonderful. In, out. He felt so good lying next to
bed. On the fifth breath in, she thought she smelled something.
Something...out of place in the luxurious hotel suite full of
scented bath beads.
Concentrating on the smell now, she breathed in again, and caught
It was a strong, heavy scent, like the oil she once used to rub
Doc Martens to protect them from rain damage. She was years from
high school punk days, but the smell was instantly recognizable.
sniffed again, and this time she was sure it was mink oil, mixed
what she knew to be leather. It brought back many memories of
youth...she must not have noticed it on Alex's leather jacket
Eyes open now, she recalled specifically the time she told Mulder
should treat his leather jacket with the stuff. Mulder, being
and obsessive as he was sometimes, replied that he never even
jacket when the sky looked slightly cloudy.
Glancing out at the pouring rain, she knew it couldn't be her
Besides, there was no way he could have traced her cell phone
hotel. He was smart and an excellent FBI agent, but Scully knew
well. Fox Mulder wasn't *that* good.
Then she heard leather creak, and caught the damp, wafting scent
mixed with the musky oil.
Scully turned from the window and stared into the open doorway
bedroom, expecting a leather-clad Alex to walk in. Smiling again,
slid her lace nightgown up her thigh in anticipation. They would
She sighed, noticing the shadows cast by the rain pouring down
window pane still swirled about the room. She watched them dance
played across the furniture, spilled over the sofa and its cushions,
travelled down the loveseat where Alex's leather jacket sat.
She adjusted her eyes to the sight.
Draped over the back of the loveseat.
If it had been in the room the entire time, why was she suddenly
smelling the mink oil now?
With rising fear, she instinctively reached out for her Sig, sitting
holstered on the nightstand.
Her fingers had unlatched the snap on the holster when a black-gloved
hand slammed down against her wrist.
In a blur of movement, the man's leather jacket creaked again
straddled her legs, preventing Scully from kicking him. His gun
her face immediately, and he drew the hammer back with a soft
Leaning down close to her cheek, she felt the man's hot breath
her skin when he whispered a warning. "Don't."
The wet leather and oil from his jacket assaulted her nostrils
hovered over her. The shadows she found comforting only moments
ominously highlighted the wild green eyes that glared from beneath
black ski mask.
He seemed unnaturally calm, and the only reason she could tell
breathing at all was because rivulets of water rolled down his
every time he exhaled.
Scully knew struggling was useless; his well-muscled arm was almost
crushing her hand.
In a similar situation, most people she knew would probably be
Scully, however, wasn't most people. And most people also weren't
sex with a suspected murderer who slept with a gun under his pillow.
Her left hand was free, and she began inching it carefully across
bed, hoping to grab Alex's little .22 quickly enough to send a
bouncing through this bastard's skull.
The man suddenly moved his weapon from between her eyes and started
tracing the cold barrel over her lips, down her throat, and around
breasts, until it came to a stop near her stomach.
"With all your medical training, I'm sure you're aware of
excruciatingly painful a gunshot wound to the gut can be. Reach
other gun under that pillow," he threatened, now prodding
"and you'll *beg* me to die."
This wasn't a random occurrence, then. He knew who she was.
"Fuck you," she hissed.
The man shifted slightly on top of her legs, and then she felt
denim of his jeans slide closer to her thighs. Slowly, he pulled
mask from his face and replied with a sly half-grin, "Suggestion
He let up on her right wrist, and placed her gun, holster and
the waistband of his jeans. Then he flipped his gun to his left
and reached into a pocket of his coat, retrieving a large, black
With the flick of a small button, the switchblade sprung to life,
13-inch pointed blade glinting despite the darkness of the room.
She glared at him, watching as his green eyes danced with amusement.
*Now* she was scared.
Her eyes went to the blade, and then back to his face. She couldn't
out any of his features except those eerie green eyes. Alex's
like that, she thought, right before he shot that cop on the highway.
Oh God. Yes, she *was* scared shitless.
"What do you want with me?" she asked, trying to sound
"I'm going to ask the same question," came the sudden
sound of Alex's
dark, threatening vioce from the bedroom doorway, "before
I spread your
brains across our expensive silk sheets."
"Zdrastvooytye, Alyosha," said the man, not bothering
to turn around.
It took a moment, but when Alex replied his voice wavered and
his throat. "Bohdan."
"Alexei Nicolavich," Bohdan admonished, turning around
now. "What would
Mama say? Why so formal towards your baby brother?"
Bohdan spun back to face Scully again, twirling the knife in his
fingertips. "Please, call me Danya."
Comments taken with a hearty black bread and Vodka.
Alex Krycek stole my sig.
If you spot him, please call
Scully: "Look, dog-lady...Mulder's *my* bitch."
-- "The Slightly Mundane Dog Inside"
by Amanda Finch