TITLE: Winter Blues M/K (01/03)
DATE: 16 October 1999
E-MAIL ADRESS: TarlanX@aol.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer - yes. Ratlover - Yes. Terma
- Yes. Spookey site - Yes. Basement-Yes. Elsewhere please ask.
WEB SITE: http://chaelyndra.com/nicklea/index.html then click
on the fiction button
SPOILER WARNING: All Krycek episodes up to and including 2F/1S.
CONTENT WARNING: m/m sex and some swearing. WHOOP, WHOOP MAJOR
SCHMOOP ALERT. If this isn't your scene then don't bother reading
on. You have been warned.
SUMMARY: Mulder decides to search for Alex Krycek when he doesn't
show on New Year's Eve.
COMMENTS: Sequel to 'Another Lonely Christmas' and my very, very
late response to the 'Krycek 'n' Jackboots Challenge'. Thanks,
as always, to Aqualegia for all the encouragement, advice and
beta reading. Any and all comments gratefully received - as long
as they're constructive. PLEASE FEED ME!! Flames will be circulated
around so we can all have a good laugh at your expense so if you
don't want the publicity...
DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Alex Krycek and all other X-Files regulars
belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX Television.
No copyright infringement intended. Any characters you haven't
heard of before, are copyrighted to me.
"And I guess that's why they call it the Blues Time on my
hands could be time spent with you Laughing like children Living
like lovers Rolling like thunder under the covers
And I guess that's why they call it the Blues" 'And I Guess
That's Why They Call It The Blues' by Elton John
Her attention attracted by a soft sigh, Scully scowled at Mulder
over the top of the ballistics report she was reading. He was
really beginning to irritate her now. For the nth time over the
past few days a small smile had flickered across her partner's
face as his beautiful green/gold eyes, once again, took on that
glazed, faraway look. His long fingers were gently stroking the
plush, velvet softness of one of those grey alien dolls that seemed
to be the craze this year. She pursed her lips. A present, no
doubt, from the woman who had lain snuggled against him on Christmas
Her frown deepened. When he had turned down her offer to spend
Christmas Eve at her apartment he had made no mention of having
other plans. She had assumed he was merely uncomfortable with
the idea of having to socialize with her mother, realizing how
Christmas could be a bad time for someone coming from a dysfunctional
family such as his. Nevertheless, she had dropped by his apartment
early on Christmas morning with the intention of re-issuing her
offer to spend the day with her family. Her thoughts drifted back....
His apartment had been strangely quiet for someone with an acute
case of insomnia. It was very rare for there to be no sound, or
flickering picture from the TV set, and no sign of him sprawled
across the old leather couch. For one moment she thought he was
out, and then she heard the soft sound of movement from... the
bedroom? Mulder *never* used the bedroom... and that's when she
noticed the half-empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table - and
two glasses. Her curiosity got the better of her and she crept
towards the open doorway of the seldom-used room.
The curtains were closed, but the sharp, cold whiteness of winter
light bled through the thin material so she could just make out
the sleep-tousled hair and pale face of her partner against the
soft blue pillow. He was lying on his back; the blanket pulled
up high, head angled slightly to the side towards the door. Her
eyebrows shot up in surprise, as it became apparent that a second
person-shape was draped across him. Only a small part of the back
of the head was visible above the blankets, dark hair pillowed
against Mulder's shoulder, features hidden in the curve of his
neck as her partner rested his cheek against his lover. She backed
out quickly, in embarrassment, her thoughts whirling on who the
mystery person might be yet not wanting to be caught staring from
Now, as she sat at her desk watching him dream away another day,
her thoughts returned once more to this mystery lover. Her first
thought was Phoebe Green, that oh-so-English detective that had
caused no end of grief during the Cecil L'Ively case but Mulder
had made it clear he was no longer interested in her. Who else
had he mentioned over the years? Some Entomologist called Bambi?
Or perhaps it was someone new... or someone bought. She clamped
down on that thought as uncharitable. Mulder was too handsome
to need to buy the services of a Hooker... unless he was desperate....
No. No Hooker was going to buy him a present and she was certain
that alien doll was a gift from his bedmate. Scully slammed down
the report in disgust.
"Scully? Something bothering you?"
Those faraway eyes were now sharply focused on her face, and she
felt a fierce blush burn across her cheeks until even the tips
of her ears felt hot.
"Uhh, no. No. Just... can't get into this report."
His eyes narrowed in puzzlement, then a lop-sided grin arched
across his handsome face.
"Perhaps it's time to call it a day."
Scully glanced at her wristwatch. It was only three in the afternoon,
but most of the building would have been cleared hours ago. No
one stayed late on New Years Eve unless they had to... or had
no where else to go.
"D'you wanna go for coffee?"
His teeth chewed thoughtfully on his full bottom lip for a moment
before he shook his head.
"Can't, Scully. Got plans."
"Anyone I know?" Her own eyes narrowed to thin blue
strips at his shuttered expression and, haltingly, she continued.
"I... err... dropped by to see you Christmas morning, but
you had a... guest."
Fear quickened his breath, but he pushed the sudden dread aside
as her words sank in, or more precisely, her tone of voice. There
was no accusation, just curiosity. If she had seen... him... then
she would have been ranting and foaming at the mouth days ago.
"Just an old friend who just happened to be in town and dropped
by out of the blue."
"Are you seeing this old friend tonight?"
"I hope so."
Scully tilted her head at the softened tone. "Someone special?"
Mulder turned away, partly in embarrassment, and partly to hide
the reaction those words caused. Was Alex special? Yes. Yes. Yes.
His fingers tightened on the doll as he fought the urge to press
the silly stuffed creature against his heart. He cleared his throat
and turned back.
"So, are you off to the Party tonight? Wave in the New Year
with our fellow Enforcement Agents?"
She smiled, recognizing the change of subject, deciding to ride
with his wishes.
//But this is just a postponement, Mulder. After tomorrow I'm
gonna drag all the dirty details out of you.// This thought swum
deliciously around her head as she laid out her own plans for
bringing in the New Year.
Mulder stamped his feet on the doormat to shake off the snow clinging
to his dress shoes, then made his way up to his apartment. He
dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen table and then pulled
off his coat, leaving it draped over a chair to dry off. He shivered.
Damn. He had forgotten to set the timer before he left for work
this morning, and the place was as cold as the inside of his refrigerator.
Moving swiftly to the heating controls, Mulder turned it up to
maximum. No way was he gonna freeze his butt off should his...
A warm sensation spread through his chest, curling in the pit
of his stomach before tingling downwards into his groin. The remainder
of that initial thought was lost in the maelstrom of sensation
caused by a single word, then by the torrent of anxiety and fear
//What if he doesn't come?//
Mulder brushed away the fear and began to sort through the bags,
pushing some items into barely stocked cupboards, others into
the empty refrigerator. It was the most food he had brought into
the apartment in years but he didn't want to give Alex any excuse
to run out on him... should he come.
One month later....
The crisp, newly fallen snow crunched beneath his army boots,
the sound echoing sharply in a strangely muffled, deserted world,
as he made his way across the square towards the dilapidated apartment
building that he presently called 'home'. The sparsely lit streets
increased his feelings of isolation... of loneliness... as he
moved within the dark shadows, ignoring the insipid orange light
glowing from the street lamps. For a moment he wondered where
everyone else could be.
//Probably all tucked up safe and warm in their beds// he thought
to himself as he pushed his hand deeper into the pocket of the
thick overcoat. //Where I oughta be.//
He sighed. In another fifteen minutes he would probably manage
to achieve half of that. Warm? Possibly, if the heating hadn't
packed up... again. Safe? Nowhere on this planet was safe anymore.
Everything he had feared had come to pass. Strughold and his cronies
had started packing Humans into the Colonist container ships.
It was all going to hell, just as he had told Covarrubias all
those months ago. He smiled sadly. There was only one place that
had seemed even remotely safe and warm over these past few months
- Mulder's arms. His mind drifted back to that one night when
the loneliness of his chosen life had been swept away for such
a pitifully short time. In many ways he regretted that night,
for it had shown him what he truly wanted - and what he couldn't
have - and the emptiness that followed seemed so much the worse
for knowing. Even so, the thought of Fox Mulder warmed a special
place in the soul many believed he did not possess but, like heat
applied to frozen fingers, the memory brought searing pain. He
felt tears of anger and frustration well up in his eyes but quickly
wiped them away before they had a chance to freeze on his face.
God, how he wished he could be in Mulder's arms, safe and warm,
rolling together under that thick blue coverlet.
//Christ!// So what the hell was he doing here in Berlin, in mid-
winter, when he wanted to be in Washington DC with Mulder?
Unfortunately, that particular question seemed far too easy to
answer despite all the complications in his life. He sneered at
himself. When had he become such a zealot? When had destroying
the invading Colonists become a personal crusade? Had the Englishman
reached another part of him that he had thought long dead, re-directing
that urge for self-preservation, bringing out the Hero in him?
Or had this something to do with Fox William Mulder and his quest
for the truth? Certainly this new purpose had dampened the survival
instincts that had kept him going through the years but, this
time, the whole world was at stake rather than just his country.
He shook his head deprecatingly as he fumbled with the key in
the lock. Alexei Krycek, American patriot turned World Crusader.
Perhaps he should start wearing his underwear over his pants and
call himself 'Super Rat'.
He shivered and stamped his feet on the mat inside the entrance
hall, shut the door quietly behind himself, then climbed the rickety
stairs, his boots thudding as heavily as his heart against the
bare and splintered wood. He paused outside the door to his small,
grimy apartment. Years on the run had taught him to ignore the
peeling wallpaper and lumpy beds, but he couldn't help wishing
he was back in Mulder's warm apartment, lying wrapped in his arms
on the old, comfortable couch, his head pillowed on Mulder's chest,
watching some stupid seasonal movie.
//Jesus, Krycek. You're so pathetic.//
He often berated himself, sometimes out loud, but mostly internally
and usually in Mulder's sexy monotone.
So, what *was* he doing here in Berlin?
He was here because Conrad Strughold was here. Strughold knew
the location of the second Colonist ship. Information vital to
the Rebellion. Information he had been directed to obtain for
the Human Resistance at any cost. Well, several days ago he had
achieved a modicum of success. Backtracking Strughold's movements
had led him to a site within the vast desert of North Africa.
He had passed along the details but *they* would have to verify
it for themselves. All he needed to do now was sit tight, and
wait. If the information did not pan out then he might have to
make that, possibly suicidal, attempt on Strughold's well-secured
From their lack of interest he assumed the Antarctic ship was
long gone taking its cargo of Colonist infected Humans with it.
According to Mulder's report, which he had obtained through illicit
channels, it had taken off following his infiltration to rescue
Dana Scully, leaving a gaping chasm behind in the ice field. Krycek
had seen the surveillance photos and was still stunned by the
sheer size of the hole. He often wondered how come no one had
ever noticed something that big entering Earth's atmosphere -
let alone leaving the planet. Even if the world's military was
in the Consortium's pocket, there were plenty of civilian stations.
Obviously, the Colonists had some other method of avoiding detection,
and he was dammed if he knew anything about it. But then, he was
a 'soldier' not a scientist.
He pushed the key into the lock on his apartment and twisted,
shoving hard to open the sticking door then reached in to flick
on the light. The bulb made a fizz and pop.
He sniffed loudly and sighed, if that were not bad enough, the
place felt only marginally warmer than outside. Damn heating had
packed up again.
"I gotta leave this dump before it kills me."
The weak light from the hallway barely stretched a few feet into
the room but it was enough to catch the surface of a small piece
of paper lying in his path. Krycek's eyes narrowed and he cocked
his head to one side, listening for any betraying sounds but,
apart from the humming motor of the ancient refrigerator, the
apartment was as silent as a grave. He pulled out his gun and
moved sideways into the deepening shadows, crouching low to offer
a smaller target. Still nothing. Curiosity drew him slowly forward
until he was close enough to read the words.
'Old habits die hard'.
He frowned and crouched down again to reach for the paper, wondering
if there was another message on the other side. The hand that
whipped out from beneath the bed caught his wrist, pitching him
forward onto his face, the gun still held but useless in his grip.
Another hand appeared and the pressure of a barrel against his
temple stilled his next move.
"You must be losing it, Krycek. I can beat you at your own
Krycek raised both eyebrows in surprise at the familiar words
and even more familiar voice.
"Toss the gun away."
Alex Krycek threw the gun several feet, it landed with a heavy
thud and skittered across the floor for another couple of feet.
"So what brings you to Berlin, Mulder?"
Krycek huffed, then shook his head slowly before letting it drop
to the threadbare carpet. Despite his predicament, he really didn't
give a damn what Mulder did to him, and he couldn't help the beaming
smile that was, fortunately or not, hidden from Mulder's view...
nor could he prevent the warm rush that culminated in his groin
as that achingly familiar monotone washed over him.
Mulder pursed his lips together in annoyance when Krycek made
no attempt to move, and he slid out from under the bed with as
much grace as he could muster. He had spent a fair portion of
the day sitting outside this freezing apartment waiting for Krycek's
return, all the while debating how he would greet the man. His
muscles felt stiff and sore from the cold, and from the inactivity.
Once the night began to close in he had given up and decided to
break in - if only to get out of the biting wind. He had dared
to switch on the light for only a few moments... enough time to
acquaint his eidetic memory with the room's layout but, hopefully,
not long enough to draw attention to his intrusion. A heavy tap
on the bulb was enough to damage the filament and the decision
to hide under the bed came a little later, appealing to his warped
sense of humour.
Mulder heard Krycek sniff and breathe heavily through his mouth.
His lips softened into a small but feral smile as he rose to his
feet, brushing away the dust and fluff from his overcoat. He kicked
Krycek in the thigh, not gently but not viciously either. Krycek
flinched as if expecting more of the same yet seemed reluctant
to put up any fight. Any attention from Mulder was better than
the loneliness of the past month.
"I said get up."
Mulder reached across and flicked on the bedside lamp, his smile
turning to a grin as he took in the pale features and red, runny
nose beneath the dark grey Cossack hat.
"You're a little too late for the Rudolph auditions. Christmas
was last month."
Krycek sniffed once more, raising his hand to wipe across his
nose, and the FBI Agent's grin widened on hearing the congestion
in the other that forced the Russian American to take deep breaths.
"You gotta cold? Jesus, Krycek. You look so pathetic."
He frowned when Alex Krycek ducked his head to hide the smile
that threatened to break across his face on hearing words, so
similar to the ones he had berated himself with earlier, in that
very same, almost playful, tone.
"Did you forget to pay the heating bill? This place is freezing.
Pack your stuff."
Confusion brought a frown that crinkled the bridge of his nose.
Something was definitely off-key. Anger he expected... or perhaps
a return to the previous 'old habit' of using him for a punch
bag, but not this... this... smugness.
"I'm not gonna freeze my butt off here a moment longer, Krycek.
Pack your stuff. We're going."
"Now wait a minute..."
Mulder gave him a condescending smile as Krycek picked himself
up from the floor. He re-holstered his gun and started opening
drawers - all empty.
A deep sigh and a shake of the head were all he gained before
Krycek stomped to the tallboy. There seemed little point in staying
now that Mulder knew his whereabouts. It could only be a matter
of time before other, less friendly parties, arrived on his doorstep
- if they were not already waiting outside in the shadows, but
it was a risk he had to take. He pulled out a medium sized holdall
that contained his jeans and t-shirts and dropped it on the bed,
then disappeared for a moment into a nearby room before returning
with a wash bag and shoving it viciously into the holdall. Returning
to the tallboy, he removed the leather jacket and moved back in
front of Mulder. Mulder picked up a worn paperback from the bedside
cabinet, eyebrow raising at the title 'The Vampire Lestat'. Several
"That's it? Don't tell me these are all your worldly possessions?"
Krycek bristled in annoyance, snatching the book from Mulder's
grasp and placing it in the holdall, but the affronted effect
was lost completely as several sneezes in succession overtook
him. He gratefully accepted the handkerchief Mulder held out and
blew his nose. Then watched as Mulder hefted the holdall and made
for the door. He followed stiffly, aware of the danger that might
be lurking outside but, inside, he was more than relieved to leave
the flea-bitten, roach-infested dump. Mulder paused at the bottom
of the stairs.
"I assume you have a car stashed someplace."
Krycek sighed and led the way out the back door. He paused for
a moment, listening to the silence of the night, before crunching
his way across the alley to a black Volkswagen Golf. A click signalled
the opening of the trunk and he threw in his jacket, waiting until
Mulder had dropped the holdall in, before slamming the tailgate
shut. He started to move towards the driver's side before Mulder's
voice stopped him in his tracks.
"My car. I drive." He glared back at the FBI agent.
It seemed as though some things never changed. Mulder still hated
to relinquish the driver's seat, a trait that extended far beyond
"Just give me the goddamned keys, Krycek."
"Christ, are you always so fucking annoying?" He stared
at the implacable expression and lifted his own eyes heavenward.
He really wasn't in the mood for this. "Fuck it! Have the
goddamned keys then."
He threw the car keys at his ex-partner and one-time lover, then
trudged around the car to the passenger side, totally missing
the triumphant smirk that crossed the handsome face. The drive
passed by in silence while Krycek stared out of the side window,
not wanting to make eye contact with Mulder. He watched the dark,
drab streets give way to a wider stretch of open land that was
once the East-West divide but there were no remains of the Berlin
Wall, no Checkpoint. He began to notice more signs for the airport
and frowned. Surely Mulder wasn't planning on forcing him aboard
another plane, not that he remembered Hong Kong after going to
wash the blood off his face - and that woman...
"Where're we going?" Silence. "Mulder! I'm not
getting on any plane with you. I have... I can't leave here yet."
"We're not going to the airport."
Krycek leaned back into his seat, still tense. He relaxed slightly
when, ten minutes later, the car pulled off into a hotel parking
lot. Mulder got out and released the tailgate. He watched and
waited as Krycek made no attempt to leave the car.
The dark head bowed, the shoulders drooping, then Krycek opened
the door and got out. He straightened his hat and moments later
they were trudging through the thickening snow shower towards
the hotel entrance. Once inside, they brushed the snowflakes from
coats, and stamped to remove the snow from their boots. Mulder
made his way to the reception desk.
"I'd like to upgrade my room to two sharing."
"I am sorry, Herr Mulder. There are no twin rooms available
until Mittwoch... Wednesday. The Conference... However, I can
arrange for a... put-you-up, to be sent to your room. Will this
"That's OK. The bed's large enough to share for one night."
Mulder looked around and noticed Krycek was still standing by
the entrance, holdall slung across his broad shoulder. His heart
skipped a beat as he remembered an old phrase, 'there's nothing
like a man in uniform'. The tall, well-built frame looked every
inch a soldier, with fur trimmed winter hat, greatcoat and thick-
soled, black boots. Mulder tilted his head in a beckoning gesture
and Krycek marched towards him, slowly, the boots thudding along
the tiled reception area. Several heads turned to watch the handsome
Russian 'Officer' pass by, but Mulder barely noticed them, his
whole gaze taken up by the heart-wrenching, beautiful sight of
his lover. Mulder waited until he was close and spoke sotto voce.
"I like a man in uniform... but you look like you joined
the Russian Army."
For a moment he was tempted to tell Mulder that he held the 'honorary'
rank of Major, but thought better of it, especially as some Russians
would have liked nothing better than to strip him of his rank
and execute him after that stunt in Tunguska. Abducting the boy,
Dmitri, was one thing, but stealing the vaccine and giving it
to the Americans was unforgivable in the eyes of the Russian Consortium.
They had wanted the vaccine for themselves, to give their own
people an edge but others, those in league with the Rebel Aliens
and the now deceased Englishman, had seen his actions in a different
He rarely had the opportunity to wear the uniform these days,
but the Human Resistance had managed to install him in the Russian
Embassy as part of the security force. His rank, position, and
knowledge had given him a certain amount of discreet access to
individuals within the Berlin Embassy. In fact, it was the sole
reason why he was wearing the uniform. Until he knew, one way
or another, whether the information on the Colonist ship panned
out, he needed to carry on with the assignment. He had only hoped
it would not take too long as every passing day increased the
risk of discovery.
Tonight he had been returning 'home' from his shift at the Embassy
as usual, not expecting to find someone waiting for him. His heart
beat a little faster. Not *just* someone. Mulder. His Mulder.
The bright green eyes fell headlong into a gold and green gaze.
Alex shivered slightly as a warm tendril of desire coiled within
Mulder gestured towards the elevator and they rode up to the fifth
floor in silence. A short walk along the well-lit, and well-decorated,
corridor brought them to Mulder's room. He swiped the electronic
key card through the lock and turned the handle. The door swung
open smoothly and Mulder swept his hand out in a flourish for
Krycek to precede him. Alex stopped just inside the door, holdall
dropping to the floor, mouth falling open at the sight of the
ostentatious room. A far cry from the flea-ridden hovel he had
just left. The high walls were papered in soft green and beige.
Thick, green velvet curtains, falling from the top of the windows
to the floor, were a shade darker than the walls. The thick-piled,
luxurious carpet showed no signs of wear and the bed... Krycek
looked back at Mulder.
"Not something I expected to see on an FBI expense account."
"This is pleasure - not business."
Krycek mulled over the words for a moment. So Mulder had come
here for personal reasons. For a moment he hoped that reason was
him, but it was more likely that he had been tipped off about
something relating to his quest for the truth. He only hoped that
he could convince Mulder to leave before the agent blew his cover
at the Embassy. Krycek removed the thick fur trimmed hat and placed
it on a beautifully carved chest of drawers, then started to undo
his coat but his still frozen fingers wouldn't obey his commands.
There were many times when he mourned the loss of his left hand.
This was one of them.
Mulder moved in front of him and began to tease the buttons through
the holes, his golden, glowing eyes never once leaving their deep,
forest green counterparts. He pushed the coat open and off the
shoulders, its heavy weight dragging it from the unresisting body
until it pooled at Krycek's feet. Mulder stepped back to admire
the deep brown uniform. The jacket with its red epaulettes and
flash fitted perfectly, tapering from the broad shoulders to the
much narrower waist. The pants flared out slightly from where
they tucked into the boots. Even the trudge through the snow had
not dulled the shine in the black leather. The stunning effect
was suddenly blasted into oblivion by another string of sneezes.
Mulder grabbed a box of Kleenex off the dresser and threw it at
"That'll help warm you up. You're frozen."
Mulder moved forward once more and began to unbutton the jacket
with fingers that felt far more competent and able than he expected.
He felt a pulse jump in his groin, and a tightness, as the material
of his pants stretched around his burgeoning erection.
//Oh God, Alex. See what you do to me!// A hand brushed his fingers
"I can manage now."
"At least let me help take off your boots."
Krycek stared at him for a moment and then relented. To be honest,
he had found it hard enough removing the boots when he had *both*
arms. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his heart fluttering
at the sight of Fox Mulder kneeling before him. Mulder grabbed
the back of the heel and the toe and pulled. Alex flexed his foot
and the boot slid smoothly off. It was discarded but, instead
of reaching for the other boot, Mulder grabbed his foot, stripped
off the thick woollen sock and began to massage. Strong fingers
circled across the ball of his cold foot then moved to knead each
toe in turn, gradually bringing warmth back into his extremities.
He then moved to the other foot, grabbing the boot as before and
waiting for Alex to flex before pulling slowly. The sock followed
the first, and another massage left more than just his feet tingling.
Mulder gazed up with lidded eyes, a smile tugging gently at his
luscious mouth as he noticed the telltale bulge in front of him.
It pleased him to know Alex still felt the same desire for him.
He raised his eyes higher and took in the flushed face.
"I'll... finish undressing in the bathroom."
Mulder rose to his feet in one fluid motion and held out a hand
that was reluctantly taken. He watched as Krycek moved swiftly
to the bathroom, detouring only to snatch up his holdall on the
way. The door snicked shut behind him. Mulder gazed at the closed
door for a moment then decided that it would be better if he weren't
still standing there where Krycek came out again. After hanging
the leather jacket, and both his and Krycek's overcoats, in the
wardrobe, he collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, his thoughts
racing back to Christmas Day.....
Alex had spent the whole of Christmas Day with him. They had stayed
in bed most of the morning, limbs entangled, lips and hands caressing
silken skin, only moving to get food and to pee. Eventually they
had showered and dressed, flicking on the TV and lying together,
full length, on the couch. Mulder had wrapped his arms around
his lover, pulling the muscular frame back against him snugly
as they finished watching some stupid film about Santa Claus...
until Alex had suddenly leapt up.
He drew the gaily-wrapped box from the carrier and passed it to
Mulder, watching in apprehension as the paper was torn off. His
face had brightened, a heartstring pulling smile lighting up the
beautiful, angelic features when Mulder looked up in pleasure.
The soft grey alien doll seemed to follow them around for the
rest of the day, as if permanently attached to its new owner.
Gradually, darkness fell and Mulder noticed the increasing number
of times that his lover glanced at the clock on the VCR. A deep
sigh heralded the end of their time together.
"I've gotta go."
"Because... but I'd like to come back."
"New Year's Eve?" Silence fell for moment.
"I'll try... but I can't promise. Things might come up."
His fingers had stroked along Mulder's stubbled cheek. "Whatever
happens, I want you to know this is the best Christmas I've had
in a long, long time and I..."
Krycek looked away without finishing and Mulder could only nod
in response, his own thoughts echoing that of his lover's. And
then Alex was gone, leaving Mulder's world far emptier, but with
a glimmer of bright hope that they would spend another day like
this very soon.....
Mulder's thoughts raced forward.....
The stroke of Midnight on New Years Eve was accompanied by the
sound of raised voices. He moved to the window and watched people
pour out of nearby apartment buildings to dance in the street.
Party poppers and firecrackers added to the mayhem, but the lone
man felt only a new emptiness. *He* hadn't come. His phone jangled
moments later and, heart in mouth, he reached across to snag the
/Mulder! It's Scully. Happy New Year./
"Hey! Same back."
/Did your guest arrive?/ The silence was all she needed to guess
the answer... that and the slight disappointment apparent in his
voice. /Maybe they were held up... or something came up. Why don't
you come on down here. The Party's just begun./
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll hang around here just in case."
"Hey Scully! Enjoy the party. Give Skinner a kiss from me!"
/Too late, I already did!/
Mulder almost felt guilty for the smile that crossed his face
but the mischief in his partner's slightly inebriated voice lifted
some of the despondency.
/Hey, I'll call again later./
As he replaced the receiver her words came back to haunt him.
/Maybe they were held up./ His chest constricted for a moment
in panic. What if...? He forced a deep breath into his lungs and
berated himself. Krycek knew how to take care of himself... wasn't
that what he did best? But still his thoughts returned to that
Sometime over the next hour he had made the decision to find Alex.
The first, most obvious place to check was, mentally speaking,
the hardest... the FBI database on reported deaths. There had
been one bad moment when he came across a 'John Doe' answering
Krycek's description but the amputated arm had been the right
not the left. A Gulf War Veteran who had decided to bump up the
Christmas Suicide statistics by eating his own gun.
Weeks passed by with no leads and then, as he trudged into his
apartment after another fruitless day, he spotted a small piece
of paper lying just inside the door. Mulder pulled out his gun
and made a thorough search of the apartment before returning to
the note. He grimaced, realising that, this time, it had probably
been slipped under the door. Snatching it up he glanced at the
writing and was instantly disappointed. The handwriting was not
the same as before, so Alex had not written the note. Mulder read
the words. On one side was 'Seek and ye shall find', on the other
an address in Berlin.
A small ray of hope flared within him. The only 'seeking' he had
performed lately was the search for Alexei Krycek. A simple phone
call confirmed there was a seat on a flight heading out in a few
hours. He would have just enough time to pack a bag and make a
few more calls.
He knew no one would complain if he requested a vacation - certainly
not his new boss who wanted nothing better than to have him out
of his sight, so he typed out an Email and sent it to Kersh's
secretary. Scully would be more difficult to handle, especially
as he couldn't tell her why this trip was so important, but she
had a generosity of spirit that had been his mainstay for many
years, she would let him go with just a single request... to take
He picked up the phone and called her number.
So here he was, lying fully clothed on a comfortable king-size
bed, in an expensive hotel suite in Berlin, with the sound of
a shower and a pair of black leather, Russian army boots the only
visible evidence that Alex was here. He stood up and grabbed the
phone, calling up room service. As he placed an order, he divested
himself of his own thick woollen jumper and boots. He sat on the
edge of the bed and waited for the sound of the shower to stop.
Ten minutes later, Krycek appeared, his lower body wrapped in
a large bath sheet.
Krycek waited cautiously at the bathroom door, watching... but
Mulder made no threatening moves, so he eased forward until he
had reached the dresser. His eyes never left Mulder's face as
he brushed fingers through his fast drying hair. It didn't prevent
a few strands from sticking up out of place, but there was nothing
he could do about that except get another 'stupid-ass' haircut.
A knock at the door brought him swinging round, but Mulder didn't
seem nonplussed as he swiftly rose to answer it. The man, garbed
in hotel livery, hardly batted an eyelid as he wheeled in the
trolley, despite the sight of a half-naked man with only one arm
poised in front of the dresser. He laid the covered dishes on
the table; two place settings, deposited a small package on the
dresser, graciously accepted a tip and pushed the trolley back
out of the suite.
"I thought you might be hungry. I know I am."
"Why am I hungry?"
Krycek halted. He knew what he wanted to say. Why are you treating
me so well? Why aren't you hitting me rather than hitting *on*
me? Mulder smiled enigmatically as if he had heard those questions
but made no attempt to answer them. Instead he sat at the table
and lifted up the dish cover. After a moment's hesitation, Alex
joined him, the box of Kleenex following him to the table. He
felt rather self-conscious sitting opposite half- naked, the discomfort
apparent in his face. Despite the temptation, Mulder left the
table and reached into the wardrobe, removing a bathrobe and offering
it to his companion. Krycek smiled in grateful relief, shrugging
into the robe before allowing the bath towel to drop unceremoniously
to the floor. They ate in silence. Krycek kept his eyes lowered
to his plate, confusion and embarrassment filling them on the
few occasions when he looked up to find Mulder staring at him
with an unreadable expression. Mulder found it increasingly difficult
to prevent his happiness and relief shining out at his companion,
but he wasn't going to make it easy for Krycek. Eventually, they
pushed the dishes aside. Krycek stared across at Mulder feeling
full and lethargic. He watched as Mulder went to the dresser to
retrieve the package, face tilting in puzzlement as the FBI Agent
removed a bottle, twisted off the cap and filled a small container
with a thick, green liquid, before holding it out to Alex.
"Cold remedy. The British swear by it."
Krycek took the small plastic cup and, after a moment's hesitation,
downed the contents in one swallow. His face contorted in disgust,
and he glared back as Mulder's soft laughter filled the room.
"You can sleep on the right."
Without further words Mulder disappeared into the bathroom. By
the time he returned Alex was fast asleep. He stood for a moment
staring down at the sleep-softened face snuggled into the soft
pillow, finally allowing a warm smile of satisfaction to lighten
his features. He slipped under the covers beside his lover, angling
his body towards the other man, and closed his eyes. There would
be plenty of time to reach out tomorrow but, for now, Alex needed
to sleep - and so did he.
His dream that night was filled with frightening images. Faceless
men, sharp-clawed aliens and frozen people encased in their individual
tombs. He wandered around the dark corridors, looking left and
right in near panic. Every face was known; Scully, Skinner, his
mother, Samantha... yet none were the face he was seeking and,
behind it all, he could hear a clock ticking off the seconds as
time slowly ran out until....
The ringing of the bedside phone catapulted him out of the dream.
Mulder wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead and grabbed
the handset. As he answered he became aware of the bright green
eyes watching him and felt the tense remnants of the dream float
away. Looking slightly stunned he held it out.
"It's for you."
Frowning slightly, wondering who knew he was here, Krycek took
the receiver and placed it to one perfectly formed, slightly pointed
ear, saying only a single word: "Yes?"
After a few moments, looking much less worried, he handed it back
to Mulder. When Mulder held it close he was to hear only the dialling
tone, the caller had disconnected. He turned a puzzled expression
on his bed companion, raising one eyebrow quizzically.
"It seems my work here in Berlin is over. A courier will
be delivering two flight tickets to the Concierge."
"One of them is in *your* name." Krycek saw another
question forming in Mulder's bright eyes and answered it. "Same
destination... Washington DC. Flight leaves in 4 hours."
Mulder nodded as if he fully understood what had transpired. He
watched carefully as Alex Krycek looked away in embarrassment;
his eyes narrowing when he realised that the younger man had something
to ask... something that he was afraid to ask. He waited, patiently.
"Why did you come to Berlin?"
The voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, but Mulder had
been expecting this question.
Krycek glanced up into the golden eyes, trembling fingers reaching
out to trace the curve of the luscious bottom lip.
A gentle smile curved Mulder's mouth; a smile that was mirrored
in the bright, hazel eyes. After a moment Krycek realised that
no answer would be forthcoming leaving him to second guess. Several
answers popped into his head but he carefully avoided the one
that said 'because he cares about you'. Instead he asked another
"How did you know where to find me?"
Mulder reached into the drawer of the beside cabinet and withdrew
a small piece of paper, the same piece of paper he had found on
his hallway floor. He handed it to Krycek and waited for a reaction.
Alex frowned, the skin over the bridge of his nose crinkling as
his eyes narrowed. Only his new employers knew where he was...
and then the frown disappeared. He blushed. Until recently, every
encounter between the two of them had led to violence, usually
with him being on the receiving end. There could be only one reason
why they would trust Mulder now. Only one reason why they would
send the agent to retrieve him. *They* knew about their new-found
relationship... but how? He had been so discreet, they had spent
only a single night and day together... so how did they know?
Mulder answered his unspoken question.
"When you didn't show on New Years Eve I decided to look
for you. Yesterday I found this note with a Berlin address on
it. I booked a flight. I got on the plane and..." His widened
his arms to encompass the room. "...the rest is history."
Mulder grinned at the slight tremble in his companion's voice.
His own deepened in response.
"How about I show you why."
Mulder reached out and pulled the dark head towards him taking
the soft lips in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. He pulled back
and smiled into startled sea-green eyes before reaching forward
once more. This time his lips pressed harder, more demanding and
he sighed as Alex softened beneath him, lips parting to allow
the deeper possession that Mulder craved.
A hand reached up tentatively, carding through his thick, chestnut
hair. Slowly, he forced the younger man down onto the mattress
until his own chest covered the strong torso. He pulled his mouth
away, his incisive mind recognising the confusion warring with
desire expressed on the beautiful face below him. Krycek's kiss-swollen
lips shined, mesmerising him as he focused on that sweet mouth,
with it's soft cupid's bow and slightly thicker lower lip, reddened
by the pressure of their kiss.
Leaning up on one elbow, Mulder allowed his other hand to trace
a path along the well-remembered features, smiling at the tell-tale
remnants of a '24 hour' cold that had worked itself out overnight.
A curtain of dark lashes closed, hiding green eyes turned almost
black by lust-dilated pupils, as Mulder's fingers smoothed along
one dark eyebrow, across the temple to follow the form of a perfect
ear around the slight point and down to the fleshy lobe. He leaned
forward to nibble at the succulent flesh, his soft breath eliciting
small moans from his lover, before returning to plunder the slightly
open mouth anew.
The moans grew louder as Mulder's fingers drifted down to tease
one small nipple into a hardened point; before reaching lower
still, dipping into the navel and then following the path of fine
hair that drifted down across the firm belly, carefully avoiding
the swollen flesh that arched up from the thick thatch of dark,
curly hair below.
His questing fingers trailed along the silky skin of inner thigh,
lightly scraping the taut sac as his tongue thrust deep into Krycek's
mouth. He could sense the frustration in the man below him as
Alex tried to reciprocate but Mulder wanted to dominate... wanted
to show Alex who was in control... wanted to punish the other
for disappearing from his life, having wreaked such havoc last
Christmas. Mulder wanted there to be no doubt in Alex Krycek's
mind that he was no longer a free agent... that Mulder owned him
as deeply as he, himself, was possessed. The love that had finally
revealed itself after years of torment, pain, and denial would
not be placated by a single night and day. Mulder wanted more...
and he knew, instinctively, that Alex needed and wanted him just
The body beneath him arched from the bed as tumescent flesh sought
the friction that would bring the completion it craved. Mulder
relented, his hand reaching down to wrap around the thick shaft.
A sob vibrated against his mouth as his hand moved up and down
the aching flesh, the thumb rubbing across the sensitive tip,
smearing precum to ease the friction. He allowed the body beneath
him to dictate the pace, gradually increasing the tempo as the
hips rose and bucked until the body stilled, the mouth beneath
him opening wider as Alex cried out, his sobs muffled by the mouth
clamped so tightly to his own.
Alex fell back against the mattress in a boneless heap, stunned
that a hand-job could have such an effect on him. It had never
felt that good even when he used his *own* right hand. Mulder
had released him from that bruising kiss moments after the cataclysmic
orgasm and, as he tried to catch his breath, he felt cool, gel-slicked
fingers stroke across the perineum and circle the tight muscle
beyond. His sated body made no attempt to prevent the invasion
as fingers pushed gently inside, caressing and stretching, causing
a sensation within him that walked the fine line between intense
pleasure and exquisite pain.
The fingers left him and he felt his legs being drawn up over
Mulder's thighs as his lover positioned himself for that most
intimate possession. With a gentle thrust, Mulder pushed the head
of his gel-slicked shaft into the tight, hot channel. He held
still, waiting for Alex to adjust before pushing forward again.
Slowly, with infinite care, he sheathed himself and only when
he could go no further did he open his eyes to seek out those
of his partner. He waited until all sign of pain had receded from
the sweat-soaked, face before starting a slow, burning rhythm
in and out of the heated flesh, at no time taking his eyes from
his beloved's face. He revelled in the submission as he snapped
his hips forward in a firmer thrust until he was pummelling into
the acquiescent body. The impending orgasm crept up on him, a
warmth spreading out from his groin, curling in his belly and
then exploding along his nerve endings, setting his whole being
alight with an intensity of pleasure that bordered on pain.
Subconsciously, he felt the friction ease as his semen bathed
the passage taking the raw edge off of his climax as he spiralled
back to Earth.
Mulder collapsed on top of his lover, his harsh breathing gradually
fading as his racing heart slowed back down. With carefully measured
movements, Mulder eased himself out of his lover and flopped to
the side, reaching out to pull Alex against him until the dark
head was pillowed into the crook of his neck. Mulder rubbed his
cheek against the dark hair as his arm snaked across Alex's chest
to hold him tight.
Several minutes passed by in silence and Mulder was almost convinced
Krycek had fallen back to sleep when his lover suddenly pulled
away, out of his embrace. He watched as Alex sat up, drawing his
knees up almost to his chin, looking for all the world like a
sad and lost boy.
Krycek gazed down at the handsome man who had shared more than
just his bed.
"Us. We're wrong."
"Because of what you are..." the husky voice dropped
to a soft whisper "...what *I* am."
Mulder raised himself up until they were sitting side by side,
backs against the headboard.
"I know what we are. If I'm prepared to forgive and forget,
then why should it be a problem."
Krycek turned to look at Mulder in amazement. He gave a bitter
laugh. It was part of what he loved about Fox William Mulder,
this combination of being both worldly-wise and yet strangely
innocent. He had killed Mulder's father. OK, so it had been necessary.
Bill Mulder had been threatening to reveal everything to the American
People... to the World... and the result would have been catastrophic.
The Colonists had only agreed to stick to the timetable as long
as their plans remained relatively secret. If Bill Mulder had
gone public then Colonisation would have begun immediately and
the Human Resistance had not been ready for that. Alex wondered
if he should tell Mulder that his father's death had been ordered
by both the Resistance *and* the Consortium. One of the few times
that their orders had coincided. Not that it had made the job
any easier. Killing was not a habit he wanted to become accustomed
to, just a necessary evil. Was Mulder really ready to forgive
him for his father's death? And what of all the other things he
had been forced to do, either through necessity, or to maintain
"Will Scully forgive and forget? Will Skinner say 'Hey, no
hard feelings for...'" Alex turned away.
He wondered if Mulder knew it was Alexei Krycek who had controlled
the nanotechnology that had almost killed AD Skinner. It was all
part of a plan put together by the Human Resistance, its purpose
to become clearer at a later date. And what of the future? The
Resistance had plans to get him back inside the Consortium...
at a high level. He would no longer be just a foot soldier, instead
he would have a position of some authority. He would be privy
to the most secret information, attend high- powered meetings;
be in the right place to influence decisions and people.
Alex bowed his head in despair. When the Englishman had taken
him into his confidence as well as under his protection, Alex
had learnt the full extent of the Consortium's betrayal of the
Human Race; and something inside him, some sense of nobility that
he had not thought he possessed, had ignited. All the pieces of
the puzzle had come together except for one seemingly insignificant
corner. Fox Mulder. Alex was almost certain that Mulder was more
than just a pawn... or an irritant... to the Consortium. What
he had never expected was for Fox Mulder to become so important
"Perhaps, when this is all over..."
Mulder turned and grabbed Alex by the shoulders.
"This has already been going on for 50 years. For all any
of us knows, another 50 years may pass before it's *all over*.
I don't want to reach the end of my life full of regrets for what
could have been. I've already spent too many years doing just
Alex closed his eyes to shut out the earnest expression on his
lover's face. His eyes shot open with Mulder's next words.
"A compromise. If we can't be together openly then..."
Mulder paused. Did he need to say anything more? The look on Alex's
face said he did. "Then we take what we can, when we can."
"Do you understand what you're proposing? A few hours snatched
in back-street motels. Pretending to be 'enemies' whenever anyone
else is around? Can you accept that? Could you *live* with that?"
"*Yes*, if the only alternative is to walk away... because
that's one option I can't take Alex." Mulder sighed. "I've
lost too many people I care about. I'm not going to lose you too.
And when *it* is all over, one way or the other, I want you to
promise to come to me... openly."
The triple agent regarded his companion, noting the implacable
expression written across his lover's face.
"There's no guarantee that either of us will still be standing
when this is over..." He sighed and looked at Mulder directly.
"...but, I promise you, if we are, then I *will* come."
"And in the interim?"
Krycek smiled, thinking clearer now. The Resistance would never
have revealed his location to Mulder unless they wanted to cement
the growing bond between them, providing a new ally to stand by
his side in the coming years. Perhaps this was the way it was
meant to be. It was, certainly, more than he ever expected to
have, more than he felt he deserved. But if Mulder was willing
to accept *them* on these terms then who was he to argue? Something
inside him melted as he realised that he would never again have
to fear loneliness as long as Mulder was out there and, maybe
one day, they would be able to stand together in the open and
declare to the whole world how they felt about each other. Until
then, they would live for each stolen moment.
"In the interim... don't be *too* afraid of dark alleyways.
You never know what kind of rat will be waiting there for you."
Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like it's forever.
Between you and me I can honestly say
That things can only get better
And while I'm away
Dust out the demons inside
And it won't be long
Until you and me run
To a place in our hearts
Where we hide.
'And I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues' by Elton John